Raistlin waited a long time before replying. "Partly," is all he said.
The Nightmaster reared back and struck Raistlin across the face, bowling him off the rock that served as his chair. Blood streaked down Raistlin's face. For good measure, the Nightmaster kicked the young mage hard in the side as he lay on the ground. Still Raistlin did not cry out.
Dogz watched, his arms folded, his face impassive.
"Guards!" called the Nightmaster. Two armed minotaurs broke rank with the others on the perimeter of the area and came running over. "Bring this pathetic human over to the crater and hold him until I am ready for him!"
The soldiers picked Raistlin up and dragged him over to the crater's edge, so near to the mouth that the heat from below blasted him.
The High Three lined up across the crater at an angle from Raistlin.
The Nightmaster donned a crimson cloak and marched up the dozen steps to the top of the scaffold. There a stand held a massive tome.
Raistlin shook his head to clear it from the blow by the Nightmaster. He was only slightly dazed. Although he was held tightly by the soldiers, the young mage could twist around and glimpse Tasslehoff behind the High Three, still slumped on his chair.
Atop the scaffold, the Nightmaster lifted his horned head, took a deep breath, and gazed skyward.
Cold gripped the summit, though no wind stirred. The clouds that blotted out the sky on previous nights had disappeared. The stars shone like beacons.
Not only could Raistlin feel the intense heat of the volcano, but now he also could clearly hear the bubbling of the fiery orange liquid as it gradually welled to the surface.
The Nightmaster began to read from the tome in an ancient minotaur dialect, his guttural voice rising steadily in volume.
The High Three started to murmur in the background.
Raistlin could make out almost none of the words, only an occasional invocation to Sargonnas.
As he chanted the spell, the Nightmaster moved his powerful arms in a strange, graceful manner, weaving intricate hand language in the air. His cloak swished behind him. The small bells draping his sharp, curved horns jingled a musical accompaniment to his every movement. His deep bull voice, growling out mysterious phrases, contrasted eerily with his balletlike motions.
Thunk! Flying out of nowhere, an object struck the throat of one of the minotaur guards, hitting him with such force that he immediately let loose his grip on Raistlin, clutched at his throat, and fell to the ground, dead.
Before anybody could react, another object flew in from the periphery of Raistlin's vision, this one even bigger. It was Tasslehoff Burrfoot.
Tas leaped from the shadows onto the back of the other minotaur holding Raistlin. He was doing his best to choke and pummel a creature who was three times his size and six times the weight of the kender. He was doing a pretty good job of it, however, because the kender had landed so high on the minotaur's back that the creature couldn't reach far enough behind to get his hands on Tas.
But it was only a couple of seconds before Fesz sprinted over and jerked Tas to the ground. Although Tas got right up, he was moving groggily. Fesz easily latched on to his collar and lifted the squirming kender several feet into the air.
"You shame me, kender!" boomed Fesz, shaking Tas so violently that the kender started to hiccup. "You, whom I believed and trusted-you, whom I turned evil-you, whom I honored with the great privilege of attending the coming of Sargonnas-you-you-"
The shaman minotaur was livid with anger and disappointment.
Meanwhile, the minotaur soldier recovered his balance. Indeed he had never lost his hold on Raistlin.
The young mage could think of no spell which he could unleash without the use of his hands. Still bound and tied, Raistlin could do little but intently watch the scene unfold.
"Great privilege"-hiccup-"pfooey!" Tasslehoff spat into the smelly bull face of Fesz. "You cowheads wouldn't know honor from"-hiccup-"cow dung. I've had it with your cave breath, your exalted horns that any dumb ox could grow"-hiccup-"your smelly wardrobe, your barnyard manners"-hiccup, hiccup…
Tas was practically purple from being shaken so violently.
Suddenly a thunderous roar stilled both of them. Everyone looked up to the top of the scaffold, where the Nightmaster, who had been momentarily forgotten in the melee. With his fists clenched and his jagged teeth bared in a snarl, the Nightmaster personified rage.
"Silence!" screamed down the Nightmaster. "You are interrupting the spell!"
"But-" rumbled Fesz plaintively, "but the kender-"
"Be done with him," commanded the Nightmaster. "Throw him into the crater!"
"Yes," said Fesz meekly.
"No!" roared a different voice.
Raistlin, who had been looking up at the Nightmaster, turned his head just in time to see Fesz clutch at his throat. Embedded there, so deeply that the shaman couldn't budge it, was a dagger with an H-shaped hilt, Dogz's well-polished katar. Fesz dropped Tasslehoff, who landed with a thud. Then the shaman minotaur unceremoniously keeled over, quite dead.
From the scaffolding, the Nightmaster shouted, "Seize him!"
Dogz didn't even try to run away, nor did he resist when several soldiers surrounded him, pointing their spears and swords threateningly. In truth, the minotaur couldn't have said why he did what he had done-the unthinkable, treason-except that he liked the kender, Tasslehoff Burrfoot. Especially now that Tas seemed to be back to his old self. Dogz had reacted out of an instinct that he didn't know he possessed-the instinct of friendship.
Dogz sank to his knees.
The kender got up from his.
Hiccup.
Thoroughly pinioned by the remaining minotaur guard, Raistlin was trying to think of a spell he could manage in this desperate situation when Tasslehoff's hiccup suggested one: the invisibility spell that Raistlin had used to get past the minotaur guards earlier that day. It wouldn't do Raistlin much good now, but if he could pass it on to someone else… It wouldn't last for long, but long enough for Tas to get away. The young mage concentrated. Behind his back, he moved his fingers underneath their bonds.
Raistlin murmured the words to the spell, substituting Tasslehoff's name and throwing all of his focus and energy in Tas's direction.
With a soft popping sound, the kender vanished.
The Nightmaster, who had been preparing to cast a bolt of lightning at Tasslehoff, cursed himself. "Fool! I'm a fool!" he raged. "I should have thought of that." The high shaman leaned over the scaffold railing and shouted to the soldier who was holding Raistlin. "Put a gag around his mouth and make sure the mage can't speak. Then bring him up the steps and give him to me."
The guard hurled Raistlin down on the ground and bound his mouth roughly with a dirty strip of cloth. Then he began to drag Raistlin toward the scaffold steps.
The Nightmaster leaned over the railing in the opposite direction and yelled at several of his disciples who stood outside the line of minotaur soldiers. "The kender is invisible! Find him and kill him!"
Four of the minotaurs burst into the staging area, then stopped, confused. After a moment, they began stalking around, bending and peering suspiciously at thin air.
Hiccup.
Every time the soldiers heard a hiccup, they whirled and raced to another spot, lunging for something that wasn't there, colliding with each other.
The Nightmaster leaned over the railing toward the High Three, who had been reduced to the High Two with Fesz's death, and shouted, "Continue! The spell is almost completed!"
The two shaman minotaurs, taken aback by the unexpected death of Fesz, successor to the Nightmaster, had stopped their chanting. They appeared to be confused. But the murderous look the Nightmaster wore was enough to galvanize them into action. Once again they took up their supportive roles in the spell, intoning the required phrases.