Dragons of Winter Noght by Weis, Margaret

Sobbing, muttering to herself like one possessed, Silvara buried her face in her knees. The tender-hearted kender had never seen such sorrow, and he longed to go comfort her. Then he realized what she was talking about didn’t sound good. “Choice is a hard one, break the oath . . .”

No, Tas thought, I better find a way out of here before she realizes her spell didn’t work on me.

But Silvara blocked the entrance to the tomb. He might try to sneak past her …. Tas shook his head. Too risky.

The hole! He brightened. He’d wanted to examine it more carefully anyway. He just hoped the lid was still off.

The kender tiptoed around the bier until he came to the altar. There was the hole, still gaping open. Theros lay beside it, sound asleep, his head pillowed upon his silver arm. Glancing back at Silvara, Tas sneaked silently to the edge.

It would certainly be a better place to hide than where he was now. There were no stairs, but he could see handholds on the wall. A deft kender-such as himself-should have no trouble at all climbing down. Perhaps it led outside. Suddenly Tas heard a noise behind him. Silvara sighing and stirring ….

Without another thought, Tas lowered himself silently into the hole and began his descent. The walls were slick with moisture and moss, the handholds were spaced far apart. Built for humans, he thought irritably. No one ever considered little people!

He was so preoccupied that he didn’t notice the gems until he was practically on top of them.

“Reorx’s beard!” he swore. (He was fond of this oath, having borrowed it from Flint.) Six beautiful jewels-each as big around as his hand-were spaced in a horizontal ring around the walls of the shaft. They were covered with moss, but Tas could tell at a glance how valuable they were.

“Now why would anyone put such wonderful jewels down here?” he asked aloud. “I’ll bet it was some thief. If I can pry them loose, I’ll return them to their rightful owner.” His hand closed over a jewel.

A tremendous blast of wind filled the shaft, pulling the kender off the wall as easily as a winter gale rips a leaf off a tree. Falling, Tas looked back up, watching the light at the top of the shaft grow smaller and smaller. He wondered briefly just how big the Hammer of Reorx was, and then he stopped falling.

For a moment, the wind tumbled him end over end. Then it switched directions, blowing him sideways. I’m not going to the other side of the world after all, he thought sadly. Sighing, he sailed along through another tunnel. Then he suddenly felt himself start to rise! A great wind was wafting him up the shaft! It was an unusual sensation, quite exhilarating. Instinctively, he spread his arms to see if he could touch the sides of whatever it was he was in. As he spread his arms, he noticed that he rose faster, borne gently upward on swift currents of air.

Perhaps I’m dead, Tas thought. I’m dead and now I’m lighter than air. How can I tell? Putting his arms down, he felt frantically for his pouches. He wasn’t certain-the kender had very vague ideas as to the afterlife-but he had a feeling they wouldn’t let him take his things with him. No, everything was there. Tas breathed a sigh of relief that turned into a gulp when he discovered himself slowing down and even starting to fall!

What? he thought wildly, then realized he had pulled both his arms in close to his body. Hurriedly he thrust his arms out again and, sure enough, he began to rise. Convinced that hey wasn’t dead, he gave himself up to enjoying the flight.

Fluttering his hands, the kender rolled over on his back in midair, and stared up to see where he was going.

Ah, there was a light far above him, growing brighter and brighter. Now he could see that he was in a shaft, but it was much longer than the shaft he had tumbled down.

“Wait until Flint hears about this!” he said wistfully. Then he caught a glimpse of six jewels, like the ones he’d seen in the other shaft. The rushing wind began to lessen.