The Second Generation

Run they did, Palin hiking up his white robes, the stout dwarf huffing and puffing along about three steps behind. Whether they truly made their destination before the sward had time to change into something more sinister or whether the sward was always a sward, they never knew. At any rate, they reached the castle wall just as night's black shadows closed in on them, and they were still standing on smooth, soft grass.

“Now all we need,” said Sturm, “is a way inside—”

The blank wall of gray marble shimmered in the staff’s light, and a small wooden door appeared, complete with iron hinges and an iron lock.

Hurrying forward, Tanin tugged at the lock.

“Bolted fast,” he reported.

“Just when a kender would come in handy,” Sturm said with a sigh.

“Kender! Bite your tongue!” Dougan muttered in disgust.

“Palin, try the staff,” Tanin ordered, standing aside.

Hesitantly, Palin touched the brilliantly glowing crystal of the staff to the lock. The lock not only gave way, but it actually melted, forming a puddle of iron at Palin’s feet.

“Lad,” said the dwarf, swallowing, “your uncle must have been a remarkable man. That’s all I can say.”

“I wonder what else it can do?” Palin stared at the staff with a mixture of awe, pride, and frustration.

“We’ll have to worry about that later! Inside,” said Tanin, yanking open the door. “Sturm, you go first. Palin follow him. We’ll use your staff for light. The dwarf and I’ll be right behind you.”

They found themselves crowded together on a flight of narrow, winding stairs that spiraled upward. Walls surrounded them on all sides, and they could see nothing save the stairs vanishing into darkness.

“You realize,” said Palin suddenly, “that the door will—” Whirling around, he shone the light of the staff on a blank wall.

“Disappear,” finished Tanin grimly.

“There goes our way out!” Shuddering, Sturm looked around. “These stairs could change! Any moment, we could be encased in solid rock!”

“Keep moving!” ordered Tanin urgently.

Running up the steep stairs as fast as they could, expecting to find themselves walking on anything from hot coals to a swinging bridge, they climbed up and up until, at last, the stout dwarf could go no farther.

“I’ve got to rest, lads,” Dougan said, panting, leaning against a stone wall that was, unaccountably, remaining a stone wall.

“Nothing inside seems to be changing,” Palin gasped, weary himself from the unaccustomed exercise. He looked with envy at his brothers. Their bronze-skinned, muscular bodies gleamed in the staff’s light. Neither was even breathing hard.

“Palin, shine the light up here!” Sturm ordered, peering ahead.

His legs aching so that he thought he could never move them again, Palin forced himself to take another step, shining the staff’s light around a corner of the stairwell.

“There’s a door!” Sturm said softly, in triumph. “We’ve reached the top!”

“I wonder what's beyond it,” Tanin said darkly.

He was interrupted by, of all things, a giggle. “Why don’t you open it and find out?” called a laughing voice from the other side of the door. “It’s not locked.”

The brothers looked at each other. Dougan frowned. Palin forgot his aching body, forcing himself to concentrate on his spellcasting. Tanin’s face tightened and his jaw muscles clenched. Gripping his spear, he thrust his way past Dougan and Palin to stand beside Sturm.

Cautiously, both warriors put their hands on the door.

“One, two, three,” Sturm counted in a whisper.

On the count of three, he and Tanin threw their combined weight against the door, knocking it open and leaping through, spears at the ready.

Palin ran after them, his hands extended, a spell of fire on his lips. Behind him, he could hear the dwarf roaring.

They were greeted with peals of merry laughter.

“Did you ever see,” came the giggling voice, “such cute legs?”

The mist of battle rage clearing from his eyes, Palin stared around blankly. He was surrounded, literally, by what must have been hundreds of women. Beside him, he heard Sturm’s sharp intake of breath, and he saw, dimly, Tanin lower his spear in confusion. From somewhere on the floor at his feet, he heard Dougan swearing, the dwarf having tripped over the stoop in his charge and fallen flat on his face. But Palin was too stunned, staring at his captors, to pay any attention to him.

An incredibly gorgeous, dark-haired and dark-eyed beauty approached Tanin. Putting her hand on his spear, she gently pushed it to one side. Her eyes lingered appreciatively on the young man’s strong body, most of which—due to the loincloth—was on exhibit.

“My, my,” said the young woman in a sultry voice, “did you know it was my birthday?”

More laughter sounded through the vast stone hall like the chiming of many bells.

“Just—just stay back,” Tanin ordered gruffly, raising his spear and keeping the woman at bay.

“Well, of course,” she said, raising her hands in mock terror. “If that's what you really want.”