Earwig stopped short, dropping his torch and clutching a wall to keep himself from falling forward. He had stumbled into a room — a dome underneath the ground. Set in the bare walls at regular intervals were burning torches whose light did not fully penetrate the gray fog drifting through the air.
“Well, at least this is different from tunnels!” said the kender, feeling cheered.
He walked inside, staring about curiously. The floor
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was smooth and hard, and in the middle of the chamber sat a huge circular stone dais, taller than the kender.
“And that’s big!” he exclaimed, moving up to the stone, running his hands along its smooth, unmarked surface. “What’s it for? I know! It must be the way out.”
It wasn’t. Earwig moved around the circumference of the disk, using his hoopak as he did in the cell, searching for a secret door or hidden opening. Finding nothing, he looked over the rest of the room.
The torches were held in sconces set into the wall at regular intervals, ten in all. He tried to remove one, but didn’t have the strength to lift the pole out of its holder. The light they cast was yellow, like the sun on a hazy day. They gave off no heat and no smoke.
“Magic,” said the kender knowingly, and was bitterly disappointed that he couldn’t take one with him.
The chamber was small, and there was very little to see and no way out except the way he’d come, and that led to tunnels. His stomach growled more insistently.
“I’m trying to get us out of here, darn il!” said the kender to that unhappy portion of his anatomy. “And I could concentrate a lot better if you’d leave me alone!”
Earwig leaned against the dais, irritably tapping on it with the golden ring on his finger.
“Now what do I do?” he asked aloud.
Who calls? A voice rang in his head, hissing the words as a snake spits venom.
“Wow!” said the kender, awed.
The room began to grow dark. The torches dimmed in their holders. The gray mist turned black.
Who calls? the voice asked again.
“Me!” Earwig yelled in excitement. “My name’s Earwig Lockpicker.” He paused, then asked politely, “What’s yours?”
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The space above him filled with points of light, nodes and motes swirling in a pool of darkness. The kender suddenly realized that he was seeing the stars in Krynn’s night sky, and the foremost constellation shown was—
What do you want of me, Wearer of the Ring?
“You don’t sound very friendly,” Earwig pointed out, in case the voice was interested. The stars kept swirling around him, he was starting to feel dizzy. “And after I’ve come all this way—”
What do you want of me? the voice thundered.
“Uh,” said Earwig, growing more and more confused. He thought it was a marvelous experience, watching the stars spin, but his stomach didn’t seem at all impressed. “Uh, I think I want to leave. …”
We leave through the gate!
“Good, now we’re getting somewhere. Where’s the gate?”
You know I cannot reveal its location! That would bring them to our door!
“First a gate, now a door. ” The kender was growing dizzier and dizzier. He wondered if he might have consumed more Celebration Punch than he thought.
You must wait and take no part! Do not interfere with our agents lest you bring them to our door! They will find— They will find— They will— They—”
The voice faded away to a whisper, then disappeared completely. The dark closed in on the kender. He couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t hear anything.
His stomach rumbled loudly. “Oh, shut up,” said Earwig miserably. The ring burned his hand. He scratched at it violently, fingers clawing his flesh until he felt something warm and sticky run down his wrist.
“Stop it!” he cried frantically. “Stop it! Stop it!”
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A carriage took the twins to the edge of the city, where they exited through Southgate.
“Good riddance,” said one of the guards.
“Don’t bother coming back,” added another.
“How are we going to get in the gate again?” Caramon asked.