“Enough driveling!” Raistlin said coolly. Reaching out a hand, he grabbed Tas and jerked him close. “Now, tell me where did you come from?”
Tas faltered, staring up into Raistlin s eyes. “I—I’m not sure you’re going to believe this. No one else does. But it’s the truth, I swear it!”
“Just tell met” Raistlin snarled, his hand deftly twisting Tasslehoff’s collar.
“Right!” Tas gulped and squirmed. “Uh, remember—it helps if you let me breathe occasionally. Now, let’s see. I tried to stop the Cataclysm and the device broke. I—I’m sure you didn’t mean to,” Tas stammered, “but you—uh—seem to have given me the wrong instructions... .”
“I did. Mean to, that is,” Raistlin said grimly. “Go on.”
“I’d like to, but it’s... hard to talk without air...”
Raistlin loosened his hold on the kender slightly. Tas drew a deep breath. “Good! Where was I? Oh, yes. I followed Lady Crysania down, down, down into the very bottom part of the Temple in Istar, when it was falling apart, you know? And I saw her go into this room and I knew she must be going to see you, because she said your name, and I was hoping you’d fix the device—”
“Be quick!”
“R-right.” Speeding up as much as possible, Tas became nearly incomprehensible. “And then there was a thud behind me and it was Caramon, only he didn’t see me, and everything went dark, and when I woke up, you were gone, and I looked up in time to see the gods throw the fiery mountain—” Tas drew a breath. “Now that was something. Would you like to hear about—No? Well, some other time.
“I-I guess I must have gone back to sleep again, because I woke up and everything was quiet. I thought I must be dead, only I wasn’t. I was in the Abyss, where the Temple went after the Cataclysm.”
“The Abyss!” Raistlin breathed. His hand trembled.
“Not a nice place,” Tas said solemnly. “Despite what I said earlier. I met the Queen—” The kender shivered. “I—I don’t think I want to talk about that now, if you don’t mind.” He held out a trembling hand. “But there’s her mark, those five little white spots... anyway, she said I had to stay down there forever, be—because now she could change history and win the war. And I didn’t mean to”—Tas stared pleadingly at Raistlin—“I just wanted to help Caramon. But then, while I was down in the Abyss, I found Gnimsh—”
“The gnome,” Raistlin said softly, his eyes on Gnimsh, who was staring at the magic-user in amazement, not daring to move.
“Yes.” Tas twisted his head to smile at his friend. “He’d built a time-traveling device that worked—actually worked, think of that! And, whoosh! Here we are!”
“You escaped the Abyss?” Raistlin turned his mirror-like gaze on the kender.
Tas squirmed uncomfortably. Those last few moments haunted his dreams at night, and kender rarely dreamed. “Uh, sure,” he said, smiling up at the archmage in what he hoped was a disarming manner.
It was apparently wasted, however. Raistlin, preoccupied, was regarding the gnome with an expression that suddenly made Tas go cold all over.
“You said the device broke?” Raistlin said softly.
“Yes.” Tas swallowed. Feeling Raistlin’s hold on him slacken, seeing the mage lost in thought, Tas wriggled slightly, endeavoring to free himself from the mage’s grasp. To his surprise, Raistlin let him go, releasing his grip so suddenly that Tas nearly tumbled over backward.
“The device was broken,” Raistlin murmured. Suddenly, he stared at Tas intently. “Then—who fixed it?” The archmage’s voice was little more than a whisper.
Edging away from Raistlin, Tas hedged. “I-I hope the mages won’t be angry. Gnimsh didn’t actually fix it. You’ll tell Par-Salian, wont you, Raistlin? I wouldn’t want to get into trouble—well, any more trouble with him than I’m in already. We didn’t do anything to the device, not really. Gnimsh just uh—sort of put it back together—the way it was, so that it worked.”
“He reassembled it?” Raistlin persisted, that same, strange expression in his eyes.
“Y-yes .” With a weak grin, Tas scrambled back to poke Gnimsh in the ribs just as the gnome was about to speak. “Re... assembled. That’s the word, all right. Reassembled.”
“But, Tas—” Gnimsh began loudly. “Don’t you remember what happened? I—”
“Just shut up!” Tas whispered. “And let me do the talking. We’re in a lot of trouble here! Mages don’t like having their devices messed with, even if you did make it better! I’m sure I can make Par-Salian understand that, when I see him. He’ll undoubtedly be pleased that you fixed it. After all, it must have been rather bothersome for them, what with the device only transporting one person at a time and all that. I’m sure Par-Salian will see it that way, but I’d rather be the one to tell him if you take my meaning. Raistlin’s kind of... well, jumpy about things like that. I don’t think he’d understand and, believe me”—with a glance at the mage and a gulp—“this isn’t the time to try to explain.”
Gnimsh, glancing dubiously at Raistlin, shivered and crowded closer to Tas.
“He’s looking at me like he’s going to turn me inside out!” the gnome muttered nervously.
“That’s how he looks at everyone,” Tas whispered back. “You’ll get used to it :”
No one spoke. In the crowded cell, one of the sick dwarves moaned and cried out in delirium. Tas glanced over at them uneasily, then looked at Raistlin. The magic-user was once again staring at the gnome, that strange, grim, preoccupied look on his pale face.
“Uh, that’s really all I can tell you now, Raistlin” Tas said loudly, with another nervous glance at the sick dwarves. “Could we go now? Will you swoosh us out of here the way you used to in Istar? That was great fun and—”
“Give me the device,” Raistlin said, holding out his hand.
For some reason—perhaps it was that look in the mage’s eye, or perhaps it was the cold dampness of the underground dungeons—Tas began to shiver. Gnimsh, holding the device in his hand, looked at Tas questioningly.
“Uh, would you mind if we just sort of kept it awhile?” Tas began. “I wont lose it—”
“Give me the device.” Raistlin’s voice was soft.
Tas swallowed again. There was a funny taste in his mouth. “You—you better give it to him, Gnimsh.”
The gnome, blinking in a befuddled manner and obviously trying to figure out what was going on, only stared at Tas questioningly.
“It—it’ll be all right,” Tas said, trying to smile, though his face had suddenly gone all stiff. “Raist—Raistlin’s a friend of mine, you see. He’ll keep it safe... .”
Shrugging, Gnimsh turned and, taking a few shuffling steps forward, held out the device in his palm. The pendant looked plain and uninteresting in the dim torchlight. Stretching forth his hand, Raistlin slowly and carefully took hold of the device. He studied it closely, then slipped it into one of the secret pockets in his black robes.
“Come to me, Tas,” Raistlin said in a gentle voice, beckoning to him.
Gnimsh was still standing in front of Raistlin, staring disconsolately at the pocket into which the device had disappeared. Catching hold of the gnome by the strings of his leather apron, Tas dragged Gnimsh back away from the mage. Then, clasping Gnimsh by the hand, Tas looked up.
“We’re ready, Raistlin,” he said brightly. “Whoosh away! Gee, won’t Caramon be surprised—”
“I said—come here, Tas,” Raistlin repeated in that soft, expressionless voice. His eyes were on the gnome.
“Oh, Raistlin, you’re not going to leave him here, are you?” Tas wailed. Dropping Gnimsh’s hand, he took a step forward. “Because, if you are, I’d just as soon stay. I mean, he’ll never get out of this by himself. And he’s got this wonderful idea for a mechanical lift—”