“It’s not magic, Raistlin,” the kender whispered. “It’s a simple, hidden floor lock. I saw it when she pointed at the wall and I was about to say something when she went through this magic rigmarole. She steps on it when she gets close to the door and waves that thing.” The kender giggled. “She probably tripped it once, accidentally, while carrying the rat.”
Bupu gave the kender a scathing glance. “Magic!” she stated, pouting and stroking the rat lovingly. She popped it back into her bag and said, “Come, you go.” She led them north, passing through broken, slime-coated rooms. Finally she came to a halt in a room filled with rock dust and debris. Part of the ceiling had collapsed and the floor was littered with broken tiles. The gully dwarf jabbered and pointed at something in the northeast coner of the room.
“Go down!” she said.
Tanis and Raistlin walked over to inspect. They found a four-foot wide pipe, one end sticking up out of the crumbling floor. Apparently it had fallen through the ceiling, caving in the northeast section of the room. Raistlin thrust his staff down inside the pipe and peered inside.
“Come, you go!” Bupu said, pointing and tugging at Raistlin’s sleeve urgently. “Bosses can’t follow.”
“That’s probably true,” Tanis said. “Not with their wings.”
“But there’s not room enough to swing a sword,” Sturm said, frowning. “I don’t like it-”
Suddenly everyone stopped talking. They heard the wheel creak and the chain start to screech. The companions looked at each other.
“Me first!” Tasslehoff grinned. Poking his head in the pipe he crawled forward on his hands and knees.
“Are you sure I’ll fit?” Caramon asked, staring at the opening anxiously.
“Don’t worry.” Tas’s voice floated out. “It’s so slick with slime you’ll slip through like a greased pig.”
This cheerful statement did not seem to impress Caramon. He continued to regard the pipe gloomily as Raistlin, led by Bupu, clutched his robes around him and slid inside, his staff lighting the way. Flint climbed in next. Goldmoon followed, grimacing in disgust as her hands slipped in the thick, green slime. Riverwind slid in after her.
“This is insane-I hope you know that!” Sturm muttered in disgust.
Tanis didn’t answer. He clapped Caramon on the back. “Your turn,” he said, listening to the sound of the chain moving faster and faster.
Caramon groaned. Getting down on his hands and knees, the big warrior crawled forward into the pipe opening. His sword hilt caught on the edge. Backing out, he fumbled to readjust the sword, then he tried again. This time his rump stuck up too far making his back scrape along the top. Tanis planted his foot firmly on the big warrior’s rear end and shoved.
“Flatten down!” the half-elf ordered.
Caramon collapsed like a wet sack with another groan. He squirmed in, head first, shoving his shield in front of him, his armor dragging along the metal pipe with a shrill, scraping sound that set Tanis’s teeth on edge.
The half-elf reached out and grasped the top of the pipe. Thrusting his legs in first, he began to slide in the foul-smelling slime. He twisted his head around to look back at Sturm, who came last.
“Sanity ended when we followed Tika into the kitchen of the Inn of the Last Home,” he said.
“True enough,” the knight agreed with a sigh.
Tasslehoff, enthralled by the new experience of crawling down the pipe, suddenly saw dark figures at the bottom end. Scrabbling for a handhold, he slid to a stop.
“Raistlin!” the kender whispered. “Something’s coming up the pipe!”
“What is it?” the mage started to ask, but the foul, moist air caught in his throat and he began to cough. Trying to catch his breath, he shone the staff’s light down the pipe to see who approached.
Bupu took one look and sniffed. “Gulp-pulphers!” she muttered. Waving her hand, she shouted. “Go back! Go back!”
“We go up-ride lift! Big bosses get mad!” yelled one.
“We go down. See Highbulp!” Bupu said importantly.
At this, the other gully dwarves began backing down, muttering and swearing.
But Raistlin couldn’t move for a moment. He clutched his chest, hacking, the sound echoing alarmingly in the stillness of the narrow pipe. Bupu gazed at him anxiously, then thrust her small hand into her bag, fished around for several moments, and came up with an object that she held up to the light. She squinted at it, then sighed and shook her head. “This not what I want,” she mumbled.