“Kender!” muttered Derek, but I noticed he stepped across the stone before continuing into
the room beyond. Sturm and Laurana followed, with Elistan and me behind.
Several candles, nearly burned to their bases, lit the small room that was filled with
racks and shelves of books, scrolls, and loose papers. Tasslehoff was everywhere at once,
ducking under tables and peering between shelves.
“What makes you think the orb is in here, kender?” asked Derek. “We shouldn't stay long.
We can't afford to get caught in here. I can barely turn around, let alone fight.”
“Derek's right, Tas,” said Laurana. “Let's search quickly and get out of here,” Derek cast
a surprised glance at Laurana, caught off guard by her support. “Raggart, keep an eye on
the courtyard.” Following her instructions, I moved back to stand in the doorway,
an eye on both areas. “I didn't say the orb was in here,” Tasslehoff said de-
fensively, “I only said it MIGHT be. Whoever owns this library must certainly read a lot,
though how he finds the time ... Of course, what else has he to do in the middle of all
this boring ice and snow-no offense, Raggart.”
I smiled to let him know none was taken. Frankly, I found the landscape a bit dull at
times, too. But my smile slipped as I read the spines of several books- spellbooks, I
noted with growing apprehension.
“I've not felt such all-consuming evil since . . . since Pax Tharkas.” Elistan shuddered,
though I didn't understand the reference. “I think we're near the orb, but I do not
believe it is in this room.”
Abruptly, Laurana stopped pulling books from shelves. Looking resolute, she said grimly,
“Then we'll just have to search every room in this frozen castle until we find it.”
“I knew better than to trust a kender,” Derek scoffed, striding toward the door.
“You're the one who insisted back in Tarsis that I come along,” Tasslehoff pointed out,
his little chin thrust forward.
“A demand I've come to regret more than once,” Derek muttered.
“Then I don't suppose you want to know about the room hidden behind this wall?” the kender
asked coyly.
Derek's face turned dark.
Laurana stepped up between them. “What room, Tas?” she asked in that sweet voice of hers.
Tasslehoff shot a triumphant glance at Derek before turning an excited grin on Laurana. “I
think there's one behind this bookcase,” he said, striding up to the shortest wall in the
room, directly opposite the doorway I stood in. Tas knocked twice on the middle sup port
of the bookcase. The whole wall swung back, almost knocking the kender off his feet in the
process. “See?”
“I see,” Derek said, pushing past the startled kender to peer into the room beyond. “I see
another empty, orbless room!”
Derek took a few steps into the room, disappearing from my view. “Whoa-what the-?” He
gasped suddenly. “Hey!” It was a shriek of frustration, not pain. Everyone pressed
forward. Though I knew I should stay by the door no matter what, I could not resist
looking too.
There, in a bedchamber the same size as the library, stood
Derek, his hands frozen to his sides. I could not understand it until I saw the slender
form of an elf in chainmail and black robes, a black longsword gleaming in his hand. He
wore a strange helmet with horns over his head. I did not know it then, but I was getting
my first glimpse of a Dragon Highlord.
“He's a dark elf wizard and he's put some kind of hold on Derek!” Elistan cried. “Keep him
from casting spells!”
Before anyone could reach the dark elf, he slammed the hilt of his sword into Derek's
face. The knight crumpled into what I hoped was only unconsciousness.
Instantly, Laurana and Sturm ran into the room, their arrival drawing the dark elf wizard
away from the helpless Knight of Solamnia. The Highlord started to attack them, but he
hesitated for a moment at the sight of Laurana.
“An elf, and a woman yet, dares invade the castle of Feal-Thas, Dragon Highlord of the
White Wing?” the wizard snarled, and suddenly began slashing at her with his sword.
Ducking his blow, Laurana lost her footing and fell, hitting her head on a wooden desk.
For a moment, she could not move, but crouched on the floor, holding her head in her
hands. Seeing his opening, Feal-Thas closed in, his sword raised.
“It was high and mighty elves like you who cast me out!” Feal- Thas cried. “You will pay!”
But in his thirst for Laurana's blood, the wizard had forgotten Sturm.
The knight lunged forward to strike the sword from the dark elf's hand. But with a speed
and agility unknown to most humans, the Highlord read Sturm's intentions and whirled
about, slashing the knight's own sword hand. Sturm's gasped, holding his bleeding wrist.
His moment of weakness cost him dearly. In a single, lightning-swift motion, Feal-Thas
snatched a dagger from his sleeve and hurled it toward the knight. A hideous shriek
gurgled out of Sturm's mouth as he clutched at his throat, and blood streamed down his fur
cloak. He collapsed.
“Sturm!” Laurana cried out at the sight of her fallen friend. Her beautiful face contorted
with rage as she whirled on Feal-Thas. With grim determination, Laurana wiped the blood
from her eyes and fought her enemy, though it was easy to see that each blow drained her
by half. Feal-Thas appeared to enjoy playing with her, seeming to delight in parrying her
waning blows without striking back.
Elistan, whose strategy so far had been to stay out of the way of the fighters in the
small chamber, could hold back no longer. Seeing Laurana alone, he hurled himself at the
wizard, bashing
him repeatedly in the back with his mace. Though the attack caught him unaware, Feal-Thas
used his magic to toss the cleric from him as he would a fly. A huge, phantom hand reached
out, grabbed the cleric, and threw him aside. Elistan slammed into the far wall and slid
silently to the floor.
And there I stood, rooted to the spot, useless as a dwarven doorknob. What had my
strategy-my excuse-been? I wasn't even watching our rear anymore. What could I do? I
remembered the kender- where was he? He'd come through for me before, tripping the
minotaur. But he was nowhere to be seen. There weren't any barrels here to save my
unworthy life.
I watched in despair as Laurana, exhausted from her lone struggle, dropped to one knee.
She tried desperately to regain her footing, but Feal-Thas leaned forward and plucked the
sword from her bloodstained, aching hands. Eyes dim with angry tears, she swung
desperately at him with her fist. The dark elf grabbed her wrist and laughed.
“What a pity,” he murmured, the patronizing sound of victory in his voice. He held the tip
of her own sword to the throbbing vein in her throat. “You appear to be an elf of some
breeding-not entirely unattractive either. I could spare your life if you gave me good
reason,” he offered suggestively.
Laurana, breathing heavily from her struggles, turned her gaze from the knife in Sturm's
throat and his blood-soaked chest to look at the Highlord. She swallowed hard. “Are you
suggesting I join you as a Highlord?” she asked in a seductively coy tone I would never
have thought her capable of using.
I was shocked. Why on Krynn was she toying with this evil Highlord while her friend lay
dying at her feet? Suddenly, I saw the knuckles of her hands, clenched and white with
anger, and I knew she must be stalling for time, hoping to regain her strength.
“What I'm suggesting has nothing to do with being a Highlord,” the wizard said, leering.
Encouraged that she might entertain the thought, confident that she no longer had the
strength to fight, and obviously discounting me completely, the wizard lowered his sword.
“If we cleaned you up a bit, you might be worthy.”
Laughing, he looked over at the bed and even reached out his hand to smooth the silken
sheets.
I thought I might choke on the bile in my throat, as I longed to strangle the life from
the evil creature. Suddenly, I remembered my frostreaver! (I know now that the thought
came from Paladine himself.) But I was not strong enough to wield it-only fighters were. I
looked at the bent form of the courageous woman warrior.
Could Laurana . . . ? No one but Ice Folk had ever been allowed to use frostreavers. But
these were extraordinary people I traveled with. Faith overcame tradition.
Sliding the axelike weapon from my pack ever so quietly, I crept forward. Time seemed to
grind to a halt. The wizard was still pawing the bed and laughing, his foul suggestions of
what he intended to do to the elven maid burning my heart.
Softly, I tip-toed up behind Laurana and slipped the glistening frostreaver to the
princess of the Qualinesti elves, praying to Paladine to give her strength that I did not
have.
Laurana's fingers curled around the haft of the icy 'reaver. Raising it over her head, she
sprang up like a wolf and lunged at the unsuspecting elf wizard just as he turned around
for his answer. Candlelight glinted off the frigid edge of my painstakingly crafted
frostreaver as it bit into Feal-thas's throat. A scream, the wizard's last on Krynn,
pierced the air. The floor of the small chamber ran red with the blood of the dead
Highlord.
Dry, wracking sobs shook Laurana's body as she stumbled over to kneel beside Sturm.
Selfconsciously, I moved forward to wrench the icy weapon from her shaky fingers. She laid
her hands awkwardly on the knight's bloody chest, not quite knowing what to do. Biting her
lip, she forced her right hand forward to close around the hilt of the dagger in his
throat. A heart-breaking moan escaped her lips as, mustering all her strength and courage,
she pulled the dagger out. Blood welled from the wound;
she pressed a small cloth to it timidly, uselessly. My throat grew thick with tears as I
watched the life drain from her friend.
Somehow I became aware of other sounds in the room. Derek stirred slowly, then spun onto
his back.
“Be careful, Laurana!” he cried, jumping to his feet as if pulled by a rope, his sword
aloft. “He's a magic-user!” Spinning about, the Knight of Solamnia blinked in
bewilderment. His eyes traveled from the dead body of the Highlord to Laurana as she knelt
at Sturm's side. Understanding and admiration lit his eyes. He bowed his head respectfully
for the dying knight.
Suddenly there came a muffled pounding on the wall behind Elistan, rousing the unconscious
cleric. Shaking his head to clear it, he stood slowly and stepped away from the wall.
Oh, no! I thought. The wizard's allies! We are doomed!
Brows narrowed in a frown, Derek raised his weapon as a small crack spread on the wall in
the shape of a door.
Suddenly, out popped the kender! “Who's been blocking the door?” he demanded testily. "I've
been pounding and pounding, but you've all been too busy doing who knows what to notice!"
He saw Laurana's tear-stained face, then the bloody pool on the floor. His eyes widened in
disbelief.
“Sturm!” he cried, dropping to the floor by Laurana. “Sturm, wake up! Flint would never
forgive me if I let anything happen to you while he was away!” The kender choked. "You
know how grouchy he can be when he thinks I've fouled things up
again! Oh, Sturm!" The kender's voice trailed away into sobs.
Wringing my hands helplessly, I searched my mind for some way to comfort them. I felt even
more useless than I had when Derek's foot had been crushed.
Then, “Elistan!” Laurana cried, motioning for the cleric.
I stared at her in sorrow. Now we would see Elistan for the fake he was. I wished, for her
sake alone, that he was what he claimed to be.
-Furry robe rustling softly on the floor, Elistan's face was composed as he knelt beside
the dying knight.
“We will ask for Paladine's aid, but it may be that this man's life has been fulfilled. If
so, we must give thanks that he died as he would have wished, defending those he loved.”
Drawing the golden medallion from under his furs, Elistan held it tenderly and mumbled
words I could not understand. Moments passed and nothing happened. I held my breath,
hoping, and yet not daring to believe. I kept my eyes on Sturm. Elistan continued to pray,
his voice gathering intensity and momentum.
Suddenly, blood stopped oozing from Sturm's throat. Fear grabbed me. Was this the end? Had
the knight's heart simply given up?
And then a miracle happened. I can close my eyes and, to this day, see again what I saw in
that small room in Icewall Castle. Color returned to Sturm's cheeks. Slowly, so slowly I
couldn't be certain of my eyes, the wound sealed shut. Sturm moaned as life again flowed
through him.
“He will live,” Elistan pronounced heavily, obviously drained. Tears flowing from my eyes,
I bowed my head and dropped to my knees before Paladine's cleric.
But Elistan pulled me to my feet. “Do not worship me. I am but Paladine's messenger on
Krynn, as you will soon be.”
I heard the words of promise as if in a dream I could scarcely believe.
“Hey, I almost forgot!” Tasslehoff hiccuped, his tears drying. "I
found it!“ ”Found what?“ Laurana asked, preoccupied with Sturm. A look of extreme patience
crossed the kender's face. ”What
have we been looking for? The orb, that's what! I must say, it doesn't look like much
compared to the picture I saw in the book in the Great Library. Oh, it's round and carved
and all that, but it's awfully small. It looks like there's something red inside it- I'd
love to break it and find out what it is!"
“Don't you dare!” Derek shouted, heading for the small door Tas had just used. He returned
a few moments later holding a small crystal globe that randomly shifted in color from
misty white to blue.
It didn't look like much to me either, but almost instantly, fighting broke out over it.
Laurana wanted to hold it, for she intended to give it to her people, the elves. Derek
demanded to keep it to return it to the council of the Knights. They agreed only to
disagree- and to let me, as a disinterested third party, hold it until we reached the Ice
Folk camp, where they would rejoin their friends.