Her hand fell from Tanis's jaw. Curly hair framed a suddenly joyful face. "Kishpa… you haven't come to stop us?"
He shook his head. She threw her arms around him and kissed him on the neck, the cheek, and then the lips. Tanis, teetering on weak legs, turned away and sank into a chair.
"I tried to tell you when that gag was in my mouth," Kishpa explained, "but none of you would take it out and listen to me. What you said to me… made sense. I believe you. I've been trying to catch up to you to tell you."
'Then why'd you fight me?" Tanis demanded.
"You started it," the mage grumbled.
"Men!" exhorted Brandella. Then she kissed Kishpa again and straightened his robes. "It was all for nothing," she said pensively. "There will be no good-byes between us because we can't leave. It seems-"
"You're wrong," he said gently. "You can go. At least you can if my magic is strong enough."
Tanis heard the wizard and blinked several times, trying to remember what Clotnik had told him so long ago. He'd said it was Kishpa who would bring them back to the present. But he hadn't said which Kishpa. Tanis laughed harshly All along, he had been trying to get the wrong Kishpa to help them while running away from the right one! "I'm sorry about Mertwig," Brandella said tenderly, stroking her lover's face. The mage lowered his head. "That's the other reason I've come to help," he said. "I was wrong about Mertwig, and he died. I can't take the risk of doing that to you, too." Brandella hugged him. "I wish I knew what was going on," said Flint. "This kind of thing happens all the time in the innkeeper business," Hey, You confided to the dwarf. "You learn to ignore it." He passed Hint another ale. With the help of Scowarr, Tanis hobbled over to where Kishpa and Brandella were lost in each others' arms. He cleared his throat to get their attention, and then said, "It would be better not to wait. If you can free us from the ancient Kishpa's memory, you should do it soon." The mage reluctantly pulled away from Brandella and nodded. "I don't know if my magic will work. I've rethought all of my spells, trying to find a new combination of conjurings that will have the desired effect. I don't know if I can do it." "But you can try," countered Tanis. "And so I shall. But I would like a moment alone with Brandella first." Tanis limped toward the dwarf and innkeeper near the bar. Hint was appraising the half-elf with an approving eye. "You did well," Hint said. "A rule of thumb, though." He leaned closely. Tanis winced at the odor of stale ale on the dwarf's breath. "Don't ever fight wizards." Tanis looked Hint straight in his slightly bloodshot eyes. "Then why did you jump in to help me?" Hint shrugged. "You looked like you could use a hand. Who are you, anyway?" "His name is Tanis," said Scowarr, who had quietly joined the trio. "But he is rarely funny." "And you are?" the dwarf asked Little Shoulders. 'Tell me something amusing." Scowarr sat down next to Hint and began quietly telling him a story…
As Scowarr spoke in low tones, Tanis drifted toward Brandella and Kishpa. The mage saw him coming and regretfully led the woman to the doorway of the Inn of the Last Home. Tanis joined her there, taking her hand.
Kishpa kissed her one last time. And then he surprised Tanis by saying, "Half-Elven, there is no one I would entrust her with but you. I thank you for coming to get her. I know you risked not only your life but your world to do this thing for me. Don't think it escapes me."
Tanis touched Kishpa's arm. "Have a good life between now and then."
Kishpa put his hand over Tanis's but said nothing.
The mage stepped back, gave Brandella a last, loving look, and then closed his eyes. Kishpa's lips began to move. At first, Tanis didn't hear him say anything. Soon, though, he could make out the faint sound of odd words spoken in a peculiar rhythm. The chanting became louder.
At that moment, Tanis also heard the sound of Hint roaring with laughter. Scowarr had found a willing audience.
Kishpa's chanting grew even louder.
Tanis felt the pull of the magic. Soon his mind swirled with images. He saw the burnt glade next to the pond. He saw ashes floating in the water. He heard the ragged breathing of the ancient Kishpa. But it was a blur- unreal, untouchable, yet somehow tangible. He and Brandella floated there, looking down from on high as if they were seeing a picture in a cloud that kept changing with the wind.
They were getting closer. He could smell the aftermath of the fire. He could even feel the heat of the sun. Soon the ground below seemed almost real enough to step down upon.
Suddenly, he noticed a change. Something that he had noted was no longer there. Then he realized: The breathing had stopped. The ground beneath his feet vanished. The glade disappeared. The sights, the smells, all were no more. Everything was gone except for an impenetrable darkness and the familiar sound of a beating heart. Except it was beating too slowly, irregularly. Tanis was still holding Brandella's hand, but he could not see her in the blackness.
Kishpa, ancient in years and ravaged by fire, was losing his final battle.
Although neither could hear the other, Tanis and Brandella called out to Kishpa, urging him, begging him, to fight death just a little longer, to live, to bring them home.
Their cries fell on ears that could no longer hear.
Kishpa was dead.
The beating heart stilled.
Tanis realized that they might exist in this netherworld forever, sailing on a sea of black in a mind that no longer could think or feel.
The darkness loomed empty, bleak, and seemingly never-ending… until they saw a spot of light far in the distance. It was tiny but bright. And it was getting ever closer. Was it a sun? A moon? A fire that would consume them? All Tanis knew was that they were hurtling straight toward it.
29
The bright light was not a star a moon, or a fire. It was merely an opening at the end of an almost infinite corridor, much like the bright light one sees when looking at the opening of a mine from deep inside the shaft. When Tanis and Brandella finally came tumbling out of the darkness, they were dumped onto a flower bed awash with vivid colors. Above them stood trees with bright purple leaves. Blinded by the light, neither could see anything but flashes of brilliant color for several minutes. As they groped about the flower bed, Tanis called out, "Are you all right7 Are you hurt?"
Brandella's voice floated shakily to him through the blotches of red, orange, purple, and magenta. "Nothing broken. What about you7"
He made another attempt to focus on what appeared to be a chrysanthemum-although he'd never seen one in that particular shade of chartreuse. "Fine. I'm fine. At least I think so."
"I wonder where we are," Brandella said, rubbing her eyes.
"You're in my garden!" boomed an angry male voice. "And you're ruining it!"
Tanis tried to crawl toward the voice, squashing a splotch of pink under one knee.
The voice grew more strident. "Don't move! You're making it worse. Wait until your eyes adjust."
They did as they were instructed. As they sat, though, Tanis asked, "Other than your garden, what is this place?"
There was a pause. "You don't know?"
Tanis shook his head.
A short, baritone chuckle broke the silence. "Why, this place is Death. Everyone who comes here knows that."
Flower gardens in Death? Tanis wondered. A white and black tulip slowly came into focus before him, then drifted out again.
"That can't be," explained Brandella. "We're not dead. At least I don't think we are. Are we dead, Tanis?"
Tanis studied the tulip. When it came back into focus again, it was lavender and black. He shook his head, hoping to clear it, and a cloud of unfocused multicolored snow drifted down past his eyes. "I have no idea. I certainly hope not."