“I’m beginning to agree with Flint,” Sturm growled.
“Shhhh,” Tanis said. Just then the screeching noise stopped. The gully dwarves looked down the corridor uneasily as into the silence came the harsh cracking sound again.
“What is that noise?” Raistlin asked his spellbound adorer.
“Whip,” the female gully dwarf said emotionlessly. Reaching out her filthy hand, she took hold of Raistlin’s robe and started to pull him toward the east end of the corridor. “Bosses get mad. We go.”
“What is it you do for the bosses?” Raistlin asked, holding back.
“We go. You see.” The gully dwarf tugged on him. “We down. They up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Come. You go. We give ride down.”
Raistlin, being carried along on a tide of Aghar, looked back at Tanis, motioning with his hand. Tanis signaled to Riverwind and Flint, and everyone started moving down the hall behind the gully dwarves. Those Raistlin had charmed remained clustered around him, trying to stay as close as possible, while the rest ran off down the corridor when the whip cracked again. The companions followed Raistlin and the gully dwarves down to the comer, where the screeching noise started up once again, much louder now.
The female gully dwarf brightened as she heard it. She and the rest of the gully dwarves halted. Some of them slouched against the slime-covered walls, others plopped on the floor like sacks. The female stayed near Raistlin, holding the hem of his sleeve in her small hand. “What is it?” he asked. “Why have we stopped?”
“We wait. Not our turn yet,” she informed him.
“What will we do when it is our turn?” he asked patiently.
“Go down,” she said, staring up at him adoringly.
Raistlin looked at Tanis, shook his head. The mage decided to try a new approach.
“What is your name, little one?” he asked.
“Bupu.”
Caramon snorted and quickly clapped his hand over his mouth.
“Now, Bupu,” Raistlin said in dulcet tones, “do you know where the dragon’s lair is?”
“Dragon?” Bupu repeated, astounded. “You want dragon?”
“No,” Raistlin said hastily, “we don’t want the dragon-just the dragon’s lair, where the dragon lives.”
“Oh, me not know that.” Bupu shook her head. Then, seeing disappointment on Raistlin’s face, she clutched his hand. “But me take you to the great Highbulp. He know everything.”
Raistlin raised his eyebrows. “And how do we get to the Highbulp?”
“Down!” she said, grinning happily. The screeching sound stopped. There was a crack of a whip. “It our turn to go down now. You come. You come now. Go see Highbulp.”
“Just a moment.” Raistlin extricated himself from the gully dwarf’s grasp. “I must talk to my friends.” He walked over to Tanis and Sturm. “This Highbulp is probably head of the clan, maybe head of several clans.”
“If he’s as intelligent as this lot, he won’t know where his own wash bowl is, let alone the dragon,” Sturm growled.
“He’ll know, most likely,” Flint spoke up grudgingly. “They’re not smart, but gully dwarves remember everything they see or hear if you can just get them to put it into words of more than one syllable.”
“We better go see the great Highbulp then,” Tanis said ruefully. “Now, if we could just figure out what this up and down business is and that squeaking noise-”
“I know!” said a voice.
Tanis looked around. He had completely forgotten about Tasslehoff. The kender came running back in from around the comer, his topknot dancing, eyes shining with merriment. “It’s a lift, Tanis,” he said. “Like in dwarven mines. I was in a mine, once. It was the most wonderful thing. They had a lift that took rock up and down. And this is just like it. Well, almost like it. You see-” He was suddenly overcome with giggles and couldn’t go on. The rest glaring at him, the kender made a violent effort to control himself
“They’re using a giant lard-rendering pot! The gully dwarves that have been standing in line here run out when one of the draco-thing-a-ma-jiggers cracks this big whip. They all jump into the pot that’s attached to a huge chain wrapped around a spoked wheel with teeth that fit into the links of the chain- that’s what’s squeaking! The wheel turns and down they go, and pretty soon up comes another pot-“