The Eve of the Maelstrom

8 A Matter of Timing

“Where you heading, Ulin?” Blister stood in the hallway, feet spread wide, blocking Ulin’s path. The curving passage high in the Tower of Wayreth was narrow, and though Blister was small, there was no easy way to get around her.

Ulin shifted the leather pack on his back and gestured with his head, indicating she should move to the side.

She didn’t. “Where you going?” she persisted.

“Away.”

“Away where? Home to your wife?”

“Just away, Blister. I don’t know where yet.” The mage ran his free hand through his chestnut hair and stared down at the determined kender. “Away from here,” he added evenly.

“Need some company? I could tag along. It’s getting boring around here.”

“Not this time.”

“Palin and Usha know you’re going?”

He let out a long sigh and nodded. “Yes. Of course. I told them. I’m a grown man, Blister. I can do what I want, go where I want.”

“But the dragons and everything. Rig and Feril and...”

“I’m leaving with a dragon. Sunrise.” The younger Majere had met the dragon when he journeyed with Gilthanas to the icy land of Southern Ergoth. Sunrise taught him how to draw on a dragon’s essence to enhance spells. The first time Ulin tried the technique, more than a month ago, was during the battle with Khellendros on Schallsea Island. He hadn’t yet mastered the ability, and he longed to do so. He always hungered for more where magic was concerned. “So you’re leaving with a good dragon, a gold one. Lucky you. But I’m worried about the evil ones.”

“So am I. And so is Sunrise.”

“So you should be helping us—and your father.”

Ulin drew his lips into a thin line, closing his eyes for a moment. “I don’t have time for this conversation, Blister. Sunrise is waiting outside, and time is slipping away. There’s nothing more I can do here to help.”

“Then maybe you and Sunrise should be flying after Gilthanas. Silvara took him to...”

“Brukt. I know. Where Dhamon and the glaive are. But I’m not going there. I’m going to where I can learn more about magic and study with Sunrise.”

“You could do that here. Or at home with your wife.”

“You’re right. I could.” A hint of color crept into his face. He glowered at the kender. Then he softened his expression, gave a hint of a smile. “I could study right here, except I don’t want to. We’re going to where there are other good dragons. And while I work with Sunrise, we’ll learn from them. If we can more firmly unite the good dragons, they will present a great challenge to the overlords and offer my father their assistance when the showdown comes. So, you see, I will be helping my father.”

“Sure, your father. Of course, he does pretty well on his own. But your wife and...”

Ulin kept his temper in check. “Blister, do you honestly think I want to be away from my wife and my children? I love them and miss them terribly. But I might not have a wife and children if the overlords continue unchecked and if Takhisis returns.”

“What does your father think about all of this?”

“I didn’t ask him.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Maybe you should mind your own business for a change.” The kender sadly shook her head and stepped aside. “You used to mind other people’s business,” she said softly.

“I still do,” he returned as he walked by.

Blister clucked sadly to herself as Ulin continued down the hallway and disappeared down a flight of steps.

Usha approached her son, holding the skirts of a long green gown to avoid tripping. She started to say something, but he quickly brushed by her, offering her only a hurried goodbye. She’d overheard his conversation with Blister; it was similar to a talk she’d had with him last night. And the ending was the same, though the kender had detained him a little longer. With each passing day, Ulin reminded her more and more of his father and his Great-Uncle Raistlin. Magic was Ulin’s passion, as it had been Raistlin’s. And working against the evil dragons was foremost in his mind right now. She knew her son’s family would have to wait. If they could wait, she thought. And if he lived through this experience to return to them.

“Good morning, Blister. Are they still at it?” Usha put on a cheerful front.

The kender nodded, making a mental note to speak to her later about Ulin. It just wasn’t right, him leaving. Not when she was stuck here with nothing important to do. It was so unfair. “They’re still talking, arguing actually.” She waved a hand toward a doorway at the far end of the hall. “I’ve been trying to talk to Palin, ’bout something important, but he’s too busy”

“Let’s unbusy him, shall we?”

The kender followed Usha, complimenting her gown as they went, asking if Usha had something smaller in that color that she might wear. Her own brown tunic looked rather drab next to Usha’s. All of the kender’s clothes had sunk with the Anvil. She’d fashioned a few things to wear out of blouses Usha had tired of. And to the kender it seemed Usha tired of the all drab colors. Blister thought it unfortunate that the Majeres only kept a small trunk of clothes and personal possessions high in the tower and that the bulk of their things remained back home.

They stopped in the doorway. The large room beyond was round at the far side, following the exterior curve of the tower, and it was cut in the center by a large window. Walls angled off to the right and left, making the room appear pie-shaped. A triangular table was placed in the center, with Palin, the Master, and the Shadow Sorcerer each taking a side. Maps were spread out across the surface, covering almost every inch of the dark marble.

The sorcerers continued to talk, though they noticed Usha and Blister in the doorway. Not even Palin stopped to offer his wife a greeting.

“There!” The Shadow Sorcerer said. The mysterious mage was stabbing at a place on the map that displayed Neraka, Khur, and Blöde. The sleeves of his gray robe were so voluminous that only the tip of a pale, gloved finger edged out to touch the yellowing parchment. He was pointing at a mountain range.

“I was watching the shadow dragon—the rogue dragon who has been killing smaller dragons. Yesterday morning, I saw him slay a large red, not too terribly far from Brukt where Palin’s friends are heading.”

“And where is the shadow dragon now?” The Master’s gaze rested on the parchment. “Do you think he poses a threat to the Kagonesti and the others?”

“I don’t know.” The Shadow Sorcerer’s hood moved back and forth, the visage hidden from Usha and Blister. “It is difficult to determine. But I believe he is the first dragon that Palin’s friends should tend to—after they’ve recovered the glaive from Dhamon and the crown from the Dimernesti.”

“The shadow dragon is not the greatest threat,” the Master argued.

“But he is the most unpredictable, and in that respect the most dangerous.”

Palin glanced at his two companions. “More dangerous now than when you first took notice of him?”

The Shadow Sorcerer’s hood nodded. “He has grown stronger from slaying the large red, the largest dragon I have seen him attack. He has absorbed the red’s energy as did the dragons during the Dragon Purge. Perhaps if your friends do not tend to him first, another purge will begin. There are too few good dragons now, and—”

“I will admit the shadow dragon bears watching,” Palin interrupted. “But my friends can do nothing about him now, at least not without the artifacts. And you haven’t seen him kill a good dragon. Do you know where this shadow dragon is now?”

“Hiding, resting. Somewhere in the mountains.”

“Where exactly?” The Master’s unnaturally soft voice rose. “I do not know.”

The Master’s fingers traced a line from the mountains to Brukt. “Neither do we know exactly where Dhamon Grimwulf is.”

“You lost Dhamon?” Blister put her hands on her hips. “You brought me here to help find him. And I did help. You found him. And now you’ve lost him?”

“I lost track of Dhamon Grimwulf when my attention was distracted by the shadow dragon,” the Shadow Sorcerer said.

“Oh, yeah. That happens.” The kender brightened. “Well, that reminds me why I’ve been trying to talk to Palin.”

The Shadow Sorcerer, ignoring her, turned back to the map. “Now to important matters,” the gray-cloaked mage said.

“Yes, actually this is very important,” the kender offered. “And it matters to me.”

The sorcerers seemed not to hear her. Blister glanced up at Usha, looking for support, but Usha had become engrossed in the map and the discussion.

“I believe Takhisis will appear here,” the Shadow Sorcerer stated. The gloved finger was pointing at a spot in northern Neraka. “At Ariakan’s Rest.”

“I disagree.” The Master stabbed his finger at a location in Khur.

“They’re going at it again,” Blister muttered.

The Master raised his soft voice; it sounded as if it were painful for him to speak. “The Window to the Stars, here in Khur. It used to be a portal between worlds, dimensions, and planes. My divinations point to this area. I mentioned this to Sunrise and to Ulin. It is not too great a distance from Goodlund, the seat of power of the red overlord. I believe if the Dark Queen were to return, she would choose the domain of the most powerful dragon, and that is where Malys rules. So here will mark the downfall of all Ansalon. Or, perhaps if we are fortunate, here will mark where a god has been rebuffed.”

The Shadow Sorcerer batted the Master’s hand off the map. “No. Ariakan’s Rest! Listen to me. Don’t be a fool—there’s too much at stake. Takhisis will return here. The Rest is a mountain cave in the Khalkists. Ariakan, one of the greatest warriors in Krynn’s history, was led to this cave by the goddess Zeboim, his mother, the trail marked by fragile sea shells placed in the snow. It is part of this great land’s history, Krynn’s history. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten all about it?”

“It is also the birthplace of the Knights of Takhisis,” Palin said calmly.

“Yes,” the Shadow Sorcerer continued. “There is historical precedent here. Takhisis came to the Rest before appearing to Ariakan. Why should not this be the place again?”

“Your words have merit,” Palin agreed softly. “And there is a strong concentration of Knights of Takhisis in Neraka.”

“Ready worshipers. It is their land,” the Shadow Sorcerer added. “And they could support Takhisis here. They could guard—”

“But my divinations,” the Master interrupted. His voice had grown hoarse.

“My divinations point to Ariakan’s Rest!”

“Please stop arguing.” Usha glided to Palin’s side. “I thought you were supposed to be working together.”

“We were,” the Shadow Sorcerer snapped. “Until you intruded.” The gray-cloaked figure looked at Palin, pointedly avoiding Usha’s stare. “We will discuss this later, when we are alone.” The sorcerer whirled on slippered feet and stalked from the chamber. The kender had to leap out of the way to avoid being knocked down.

“I’m sorry,” Usha offered. “I really didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Ahem,” Blister cleared her throat.

“But Blister wanted to talk to you, and—”

“No intrusion.” Palin took Usha’s hands in his and kissed her cheek. “A welcome break. This discussion was going nowhere. Time will soothe tempers, and we’ll attack the problem again in an hour or so.”

Usha smiled, her golden eyes twinkling. “Blister?”

Palin turned toward the kender and motioned her farther into the room. Blister looked about tentatively for a moment, then hurried to join them.

“The Shadow Sorcerer said I’m not needed anymore to find Dhamon.”

“You gave the Master and the Shadow Sorcerer enough information earlier. They will use that information again. We’ll eventually find him—mostly thanks to you. And it should not take too long.”

“Then you really don’t need me here anymore.”

Palin looked at the kender, smiled, and arched an eyebrow. “You’re very helpful Blister. There are plenty of things you can—”

“I’d like to be with Rig and Feril, Jasper, too. And I kinda miss Groller and Fury, even though I can’t really talk to either of them. Well, I can. But Groller can’t hear me and Fury can hear me, but he can’t understand—or talk back. Anyway, they’re all going to Brukt. At least the Master says they are.” She waved her hands in the air. “Gilthanas is gonna help get the glaive for you. He’ll probably keep Dhamon from killing Rig, if Rig hasn’t already caught up to Dhamon and killed him. I would’ve gone with Silvara, too, but I didn’t know that you didn’t really need me anymore. If I would’ve known that, I would’ve gone. So I was wondering...” She fidgeted with the cord that tied her tunic.

“Yes?”

“I was wondering if you could, you know... magically send me to Brukt. Sort of like how you brought Usha and me here from Schallsea. I could go on to the coast with Rig and them and then to Dimernesti. I’ve never seen a sea elf.”

Palin rubbed his chin. Stubble dotted his face; he’d been so busy lately that he hadn’t taken time to shave or to eat properly. He was falling into bad habits again. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Blister nodded. “I’ve never been to Brukt before, or to any ogre ruin, for that matter. I would’ve asked Ulin if he and Sunrise would take me there, but Ulin was kinda grumpy and just said he was going somewhere. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to go ‘somewhere.’”

“I understand.”

“So it’s okay?”

“Yes.”

“And you can do it? Just send me to them?” Blister smiled wide.

“Well, I’d like to be sure exactly where they are first.”

“You can do that?”

“Yes.”

The Master cleared his throat, interrupting their conversation. “Tonight I will contact Rig.”

Palin mouthed his thanks, then returned his attention to the kender. “And then I’ll—”

“You’ll send me with Blister.” Usha’s golden eyes had lost their sparkle, her expression instantly serious.

“What?” Palin’s eyes were wide.

“Hmm. I better go pack.” Blister hurried from the room, giving the Majeres a chance to be almost alone.

“Perhaps we should continue our discussion of Takhisis and the dragons later.” The Master padded up behind Palin, attempting to slip past him and leave.

“No.” Usha put her hand out and stopped the mysterious sorcerer. “It is Palin and I who can talk later.” She leaned forward, kissed Palin, and left.

Palin watched her go, then rubbed at the stubble on his face again. “I don’t think she’s serious,” he told the Master. “She won’t really leave with Blister.”

The Master said nothing.

The two returned to their maps. The Master studied his friend’s weathered face and began to roll up the parchments. “I still believe the Window to the Stars is the answer.”

“Perhaps. But Ariakan’s Rest is indeed a possibility and has precedent, as the Shadow Sorcerer says. And... perhaps... neither is correct.” Palin eased himself into a high-backed chair, steepled his fingers, and stared at his reflection in the dark marble. “I, too, will devote my time to divining the location of Takhisis’s arrival,” he said finally.

“And together we will discover how to use the artifacts to stop Takhisis’ return.” The Master tugged the ring free from his hand. “Dalamar’s ring,” he said softly. “Your ring now.” He placed it in Palin’s palm. “I’ve no need of such baubles anyway. So now you have two artifacts.”

“The Fist of E’li and Dalamar’s ring. Thank you, my friend.”

“And soon, if Rig and his companions are fortunate, you’ll have the glaive and the crown.” The Master walked to a slender bookcase filled with leather-bound volumes. He tugged a thick black book free and brought it to the table. Pale fingers turned the pages. “It took me quite a while to find this. Here. See? I believe this is the weapon Dhamon carries.”

Palin leaned over the tome. The words were scratchy, as if they’d been penned in a hurry or by someone with a shaky hand. “Gryendel,” he pronounced. “You’re right. This could be it.” He placed Dalamar’s ring in his pocket and traced his finger down the page. “This says it was forged by Reorx centuries upon centuries ago, that it was lost in the All Saints War, before the coming of the last gods and before the Age of Dreams. Indeed it is ancient.”

“Reorx’s Grin,” the Master said. “Crafted to part whatever its wielder desires—wood, armor, stone... perhaps even dragonflesh. In any event, it can’t be allowed to fall into the clutches of the dragons. Khellendros has Huma’s Lance and Goldmoon’s medallions already. This cannot be lost too.”

“Reorx’s Grin,” Palin whispered.

In a laboratory upstairs, one with lots of windows, Usha sat at a makeshift easel, putting the last touches on a painting of Blister. The kender was surrounded by flowers that Usha had painstakingly depicted. All that remained were to add a few highlights to Blister’s graying blonde hair and a bit of rose to her lips. Perhaps a half-hour’s work at best, she thought.

Usha moved the picture and put another piece of smoothed wood on the easel. She cleaned her brush, drying it on a rag. Then she thrust the tip in dark green paint and began dabbing at the fresh surface. An hour later, she had painted the beginnings of a forest, with trees stretching from the bottom to the top of the canvas. The outline of a dwarf was in the center of the painting.

“Jasper, you’re carrying the Fist. I know it,” she said to herself. “But you don’t know what you carry—and neither, it seems, do I.”