Dragons of Autumn Twilight by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman

“The door!” he whispered. “Caramon-”

But the warrior had already moved over to stand behind the door, his back to the wall, his giant hands flexing.

The footsteps flapped to a stop outside. “The Seekers demand right of entry.” The goblins began to bang on the door, then stopped in surprise as it swung open.

“This place is empty,” said one. “Let’s move on.”

“You got no imagination, Grum,” said the other. “Here’s our chance to pick up a few pieces of silver.”

A goblin head appeared around the open door. Its eyes focused on Raistlin, sitting calmly, his staff on his shoulder. The goblin grunted in alarm, then began to laugh.

“Oh, ho! Look what we’ve found! A staff!” The goblin’s eyes gleamed. It took a step toward Raistlin, its partner crowding close behind. “Hand me that staff!”

“Certainly,” the mage whispered. He held his own staff forth. “Shirak” he said. The crystal ball flared into light. The goblins shrieked and shut their eyes, fumbling for their swords. At that moment, Caramon jumped from behind the door, grabbed the goblins around their necks, and swept their heads together with a sickening thud. The goblin bodies crumpled into a stinking heap.

“Dead?” asked Tanis as Caramon bent over them, examining them by the light of Raistlin’s staff.

“I’m afraid so.” The big man sighed. “I hit them too hard.”

“Well, that’s torn it,” Tanis said grimly. “We’ve murdered two more of the Theocrat’s guards. He’ll have the town up in arms. Now we can’t just lie low for a few days-we’ve got to get out of here! And you two”-he turned to the barbarians-“had better come with us.”

“Wherever we’re going,” muttered Flint irritably.

“Where were you headed?” Tanis asked Riverwind.

“We were traveling to Haven,” the barbarian answered reluctantly.

“There are wise men there,” Goldmoon said. “We hoped they could tell us about this staff. You see, the song I sang-it was true, the staff saved our lives.-”

“You’ll have to tell us later,” Tanis interrupted. “When these guards don’t report back, every goblin in Solace will be swarming up the trees. Raistlin, put out that light.”

The mage spoke another word, “Dumak” The crystal glimmered, then the light died.

“What’ll we do with the bodies?” Caramon asked, nudging a dead goblin with his booted foot. “And what about Tika? Won’t she get into trouble?”

“Leave the bodies.” Tanis’s mind was working quickly. “And hack up the door. Sturm, knock over a few tables. We’ll make it look as if we broke in here and got into a fight with these fellows. That way, Tika shouldn’t be in too much trouble. She’s a smart girl-she’ll manage.”

“We’ll need food,” Tasslehoff stated. He ran into the kitchen and began rummaging through the shelves, stuffing loaves of bread and anything else that looked edible into his pouches. He tossed Flint a full skin of wine. Sturm overturned a few chairs. Caramon arranged the bodies to make it look as if they had died in a ferocious battle. The Plainsmen stood in front of the dying fire, looking at Tanis uncertainly.

“Well?” said Sturm. “Now what? Where are we going?”

Tanis hesitated, running over the options in his mind. The Plainsmen had come from the east and-if their story was true and their tribe had been trying to kill them-they wouldn’t want to go back that way. The group could travel south, into the elven kingdom, but Tanis felt a strange reluctance to go back to his homelands. He knew, too, that the elves would not be pleased to see these strangers enter in their hidden city.

“We will travel north,” he said finally. “We will escort these two until we come to the crossroads, then we can decide what to do from there. They can go on southwest to Haven, if they wish. I plan to travel farther north and see if the rumors about armies gathering are true.”

“And perhaps run into Kitiara,” Raistlin whispered slyly.

Tanis flushed. “Is that plan all right?” he asked, looking around.

“Though not the eldest among us, Tanis, you are the wisest,” Sturm said. “We follow you-as always.”

Caramon nodded. Raistlin was already heading for the door. Flint shouldered the wine skin, grumbling.

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