“Be there in a minute!” he yelled. Turning, he dashed back through the door and ran down the stairs.
“He certainly didn’t act very grateful,” Tas humpfed as he sped along. “Not a bit like the old fun-loving Tanis. I don’t think being a hero agrees with him.”
Behind him, muffled by the wall, he could hear the sound of harsh chanting and several explosions. Then draconian voices raised in cries of anger and disappointment.
“That bracelet will hold them off for a while,” Tas muttered, “but not for long. Now, how do I get over to the other side of the tower to reach them? I guess there’s no help for it but to go clear back to the bottom level.”
Racing down the stairs, he reached the ground level again, ran past the room where he had entered the citadel, and continued on until he came to a corridor running at right angles to the one he was in. Hopefully, it led to the opposite side of the tower where Tanis and Caramon were trapped.
There was the sound of another explosion and, this time, the whole tower shook. Tas increased his speed. Making a sharp turn to his right, the kender hurtled around a corner. Bam! He slammed into something squat and dark that toppled over with a “wuf.”
The impact bowled Tas head over heels. He lay quite still, having the distinct impression—from the smell—that he’d been struck by a bundle of rotting garbage. Somewhat shaken, he nevertheless managed to stagger to his feet and, gripping his little knife, prepared to defend himself against the short, dark creature which was on its feet as well.
Putting a hand to its forehead, the creature said, “Ooh,” in a pained tone. Then, glancing about groggily, it saw Tas standing in front of it, looking grim and determined. Torchlight flashed off the kender’s knife blade. The “ooh,” turned to an “AAAAAHHH.” With a groan, the smelly creature fainted dead away.
“Gully dwarf!” said Tas, his nose wrinkling in disgust. He sheathed his knife and started to leave. Then he stopped. “You know, though,” he said, talking to himself, “this might come in handy.”
Bending down, Tas grasped the gully dwarf by a handful of rag and shook it. “Hey, wake up!”
Drawing a shuddering breath, the gully dwarf opened his eyes. Seeing a stern-looking kender crouched threateningly above him, the gully dwarf went deathly white, hurriedly closed his eyes again, and attempted to look unconscious.
Tas shook the bundle again.
With a trembling sigh, the gully dwarf opened one eye, and saw Tas was still there. There was only one thing to do look dead. This is achieved (among gully dwarves) by holding the breath and going instantly stiff and rigid.
“C’mon,” play Tas irritably, shaking the gully dwarf. “I need your help.”
“You go way,” the gully dwarf said in deep, sepulchral tones. “Me dead.”
“You’re not dead yet,” Tas said in the most awful voice he could muster, “but you’re going to be unless you help me!” He raised the knife.
The gully dwarf gulped and quickly sat up, rubbing his head in confusion. Then, seeing Tas, he threw his arms around the kender. “You heal! Me back from dead! You great and powerful cleric!”
“No, I’m not!” snapped Tas, considerably startled by this reaction. “Now, let loose. No, you’re tangled up in the pouch. Not that way... .”
After several moments, he finally managed to divest himself of the gully dwarf. Dragging the creature to his feet, Tas glared at him sternly. “I’m trying to get to the other side of the tower. Is this the right way?”
The gully dwarf stared up and down the corridor thoughtfully, then he turned to Tas. “This right way,” he said finally, pointing in the direction Tas had been heading.
“Good!” Tas started off again.
“What tower?” the gully dwarf muttered, scratching his head.
Tas stopped. Turning around, he glared at the gully dwarf, his hand straying for his knife.
“Me go with great cleric,” the gully dwarf offered hurriedly. “Me guide.”
“That might not be a bad idea,” the kender reflected. Grabbing hold of the gully dwarf’s grubby hand, Tas dragged him along. Soon they found another staircase leading up. The sounds of battle were much louder now—a fact that caused the gully dwarf’s eyes to widen. He tried to pull his hand loose. “Me been dead once,” the gully dwarf cried, frantically attempting to free himself. “When you dead two times, they put you in box, throw you in big hole. Me not like that.”
Although this seemed an interesting concept, Tas didn’t have time to explore it. Keeping hold of the gully dwarf firmly, Tas tugged him up the stairs, the sounds of fighting on the other side of the wall getting louder every moment. As on the opposite side of the tower, the steep staircase ended at a door. Behind it, he could hear thuds and groans and Caramon’s swearing. Tas tried the handle. It was locked from this side, too. The kender smiled, rubbing his hands again.
“Certainly a well-built door,” he said, studying it. Leaning down, he peered through the keyhole.
“I’m here!” he shouted.
“Open the”—muffled shouts—“door!” came Caramon’s booming bellow.
“I’m doing the best I can!” Tas yelled back, somewhat irritably. “I don’t have my tools, you know.
Well, I’ll just have to improvise. You—stay here!” He grabbed hold of the gully dwarf, who was just creeping back to the stairs. Taking out his knife, he held it up threateningly. The gully dwarf collapsed in a heap.
“Me stay!” he whimpered, cowering on the floor.
Turning back to the door, Tas stuck the tip of the knife into the lock and began twisting it around carefully. He thought he could almost feel the lock give when something thudded against the door. The knife jerked out of the lock.
“You’re not helping!” he shouted through the door. Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Tas put the knife back in the lock again.
The gully dwarf crawled closer, staring up at Tas from the floor. “Lot you know. Me guess you not such great cleric.”
“What do you mean?” Tas muttered, concentrating.
“Knife not open door,” the gully dwarf said with vast disdain. “Key open door.”
“I know a key opens the door,” Tas said, glancing about in exasperation, “but I don’t have—Give me that!”
Tas angrily snatched the key the gully dwarf was holding in its hand. Putting the key into the door lock, he heard it click and yanked the door open. Tanis tumbled out, practically on top of the kender, Caramon running out behind him. The big man slammed the heavy door shut, breaking off the tip of a draconian sword just entering the doorway. Leaning his back against the door, he looked down at Tas, breathing heavily.
“Lock it!” he managed to gasp.
Quickly Tas turned the key in the lock again. Behind the door, there were shouts and more thuds and the sounds of splintering wood.
“It’ll hold for a while, I think,” Tanis said, studying the door.
“But not long,” Caramon said grimly. “Especially with that Bozak mage down there. C’mon.”
“Where?” Tanis demanded, wiping sweat from his face. He was bleeding from a slash on his hand and numerous cuts on his arms, but otherwise appeared unhurt. Caramon was covered with blood, but most of it was green, so Tas assumed that it was the enemy’s. “We still haven’t found out where the device that flies this thing is located!”
“I’ll bet he knows,” Tas said, pointing to the gully dwarf. “That’s why I brought him along,” the kender added, rather proud of himself.
There was a tremendous crash. The door shuddered.
“Let’s at least get out of here,” Tanis muttered. “What’s your name?” he asked the gully dwarf as they hurried back down the stairs.
“Rounce,” said the gully dwarf, regarding Tanis with deep suspicion.
“Very well, Rounce” Tanis said, pausing on a shadowy landing to catch his breath, “show us the room where the device is that flies this citadel.”