Sturm groaned and tried to sit up, but pain flashed through his head and he sank back. “My sword,” he said.
Tasslehoff looked over to see Sturm’s two-handed weapon sticking out of the back of the stone cleric. “That’s fantastic!” the wide-eyed kender said. “Look, Flint! Sturm’s sword-”
“I know, you fog-brained idiot Render!” Flint roared as he saw a creature running toward them, its blade drawn.
“I’ll just go get it,” Tas said cheerfully to Sturm as he knelt beside him. “I won’t be a moment.”
“No-” Flint yelled, realizing the attacking cleric was out of Tas’s line of vision. The creature’s wicked, curved sword lashed out in a flashing arc, aimed for the dwarf’s neck. Flint swung his axe, but at that moment, Tasslehoff-his eyes on Sturm’s sword-rose to his feet. The kender’s hoopak staff struck the dwarf in the back of the knees, causing Flint’s legs to buckle beneath him. The creature’s sword whistled harmlessly over-head as the dwarf gave a startled yell and fell over backwards on top of Sturm.
Tasslehoff, hearing the dwarf shout, looked back, astonished at an odd sight: a cleric was attacking Flint and, for some reason, the dwarf was lying on his back, legs flailing, when he should have been up fighting.
“What are you doing, Flint?” Tas shouted. He nonchalantly struck the creature in the midsection with his hoopak, struck it again on the head as it toppled forward, and watched it fall to the ground, unconscious.
“There!” he said irritably to Flint. “Do I have to fight your battles for you?” The kender turned and headed back toward Sturm’s sword.
“Fight! For me!” The dwarf, sputtering with rage, struggled wildly to stand up. His helm had slipped over his eyes, blinding him. Flint shoved it back just as another cleric bowled into him, knocking the dwarf off his feet again.
Tanis found Goldmoon and Riverwind standing back to back, Goldmoon fending off the creatures with her staff. Three of them lay dead at her feet, their stony remains blackened from the staff’s blue flame. Riverwind’s sword was caught fast in the guts of another statue. The Plainsman had unslung his only remaining weapon-his short bow-and had an arrow nocked and ready. The creatures were, for the moment, hanging back, discussing their strategy in low, indecipherable tones. Knowing they must rush the Plainsmen in a moment, Tanis leaped toward them and smote one of the creatures from behind, using the flat of his sword, then made a backhand swing at another.
“Come on!” he shouted to the Plainsmen. “This way!”
Some of the creatures turned at this new attack; others hesitated. Riverwind fired an arrow and felled one, then he grabbed Goldmoon’s hand and together they ran toward Tanis, jumping over the stone bodies of their victims.
Tanis let them get past him, fending off the creatures with the flat of his sword. “Here, take this dagger!” he shouted to Riverwind as the barbarian ran by. Riverwind grabbed it, reversed it, and struck one of the creatures in the jaw. Jabbing upward with the hilt, he broke its neck. There was another flash of blue flame as Goldmoon used her staff to knock another creature out of the way. Then they were into the woods.
The wooden cart was burning fiercely now. Peering through the smoke, Tanis caught glimpses of the road. A shiver ran through him as he saw dark winged forms floating to the ground about a half mile away on either side of them. The road was cut off in both directions. They were trapped unless they escaped into the woods immediately.
He reached the place where he had left Sturm. Goldmoon and Riverwind were there, so was Flint. Where was everyone else? He stared around in the thick smoke, blinking back tears.
“Help Sturm,” he told Goldmoon. Then he turned to Flint, who was trying unsuccessfully to yank his axe out of the chest of a stone creature. “Where are Caramon and Raistlin? And where’s Tas? I told him to stay here-”
“Blasted kender nearly got me killed!” Flint exploded. “I hope they carry him off! I hope they use him for dog meat! I hope-”
“In the name of the gods!” Tanis swore in exasperation. He made his way through the smoke toward where he had last seen Caramon and Raistlin and stumbled across the kender, dragging Sturm’s sword back along the road. The weapon was nearly as big as Tasslehoff and he couldn’t lift it, so he was dragging it through the mud.