The companions left the chamber of Mishakal, Goldmoon coming last. She gently touched the statue of the goddess with her hand as she passed, whispering a silent prayer.
Tas led the way, skipping merrily, his topknot bouncing behind him. He was going to see a real live dragon! The kender couldn’t imagine anything more exciting.
Following Caramon’s directions, they headed east, passing through two more sets of golden double doors, and came to a large circular room. A tall, slime-coated pedestal stood in the center-so tall not even Riverwind could see what, if anything, was on it. Tas stood beneath it, staring up at it wistfully.
“I tried to climb it last night,” he said, “but it was too slippery. I wonder what’s up there?”
“Well, whatever it is will have to stay forever beyond the reach of kenders,” Tanis snapped irritably. He walked over to investigate the staircase that spiraled down into the darkness. The stairs were broken and covered with rotting plants and fungus.
“The Paths of the Dead,” Raistlin said suddenly.
“What?” Tanis started.
“The Paths of the Dead,” the mage repeated. “That’s what this staircase is called.”
“How in the name of Reorx do you know that?” Flint growled.
“I have read something of this city,” Raistlin replied in his whispering voice.
“This is the first we’ve heard of it,” Sturm said coldly. “What else do you know that you haven’t told us?”
“A great many things, knight,” Raistlin returned, scowling. “While you and my brother played with wooden swords, I spent my time in study.”
“Yes, study of that which is dark and mysterious,” the knight sneered. “What really happened in the Towers of High Sorcery, Raistlin? You didn’t gain these wonderful powers of yours without giving something in return. What did you sacrifice in that Tower? Your health-or your soul!”
“I was with my brother in the Tower,” Caramon said, the warrior’s normally cheerful face now haggard. “I saw him battle powerful mages and wizards with only a few simple spells. He defeated them, though they shattered his body. I carried him, dying, from the terrible place. And I-” The big man hesitated.
Raistlin stepped forward quickly and placed his cold, thin hand on his twin’s arm.
“Be careful what you say,” he hissed.
Caramon drew a ragged breath and swallowed. “I know what he sacrificed,” the warrior said in a husky voice. Then he lifted his head proudly. “We are forbidden to speak of it. But you have known me many years, Sturm Brightblade, and I give you my word of honor-you may trust my brother as you trust me. If ever a time comes when that is not so, may my death- and his-be not far behind.”
Raistlin’s eyes narrowed at this vow. He regarded his brother with a thoughtful, somber expression. Then Tanis saw the mage’s lip curl, the serious mien wiped out by his customary cynicism. It was a startling change. For a moment, the twins’ resemblance to each other had been remarkable. Now they were as different as opposite sides of a coin.
Sturm stepped forward and clasped Caramon’s hand, gripping it tightly, wordlessly. Then he turned to face Raistlin, unable to regard him without obvious disgust. “I apologize, Raistlin, ” the knight said stiffly. “You should be thankful you have such a loyal brother.”
“Oh, I am,” Raistlin whispered.
Tanis glanced at the mage sharply, wondering if he had only imagined sarcasm in the mage’s hissing voice. The half-elf licked his dry lips, a sudden, bitter taste in his mouth. “Can you guide us through this place?” he asked abruptly.
“I could have,” Raistlin answered, “if we had come here prior to the Cataclysm. The books I studied dated back hundreds of years. During the Cataclysm, when the fiery mountain struck Krynn, the city of Xak Tsaroth was cast down the side of a cliff. I recognize this staircase because it is still intact. As for beyond-” He shrugged.
“Where do the stairs lead?”
“To a place known as the Hall of the Ancestors. Priests and kings of Xak Tsaroth were buried in crypts there.”
“Let’s get moving,” Caramon said gruffly. “All we’re doing here is scaring ourselves.”
“Yes.” Raistlin nodded. “We must go and go quickly. We have until nightfall. By tomorrow, this city will be overrun by the armies moving from the north.”