Now was their chance! Tasslehoff crawled back to the mage.

"Old One!" he whispered. "Wake up!" He shook him.

"What? Who? Fire?" The mage sat up, peering around blearily. "Where? Run for the exits!"

"No, not a fire." Tas sighed. "It's morning. Here's your hat-" He handed it to the magician who was groping around, searching for it. "What happened to the puffball light?"

"Humpf!" Fizban sniffed. "I sent it back. Kept me awake, shining in my eyes."

"We were supposed to stay awake, remember?" Tas said in exasperation. "Rescue Sestun from the dragon?"

"How were we going to do that?" Fizban asked eagerly.

"You were the one with the plan!"

"I was? Dear, dear." The old magician blinked. "Was it a good one?"

"You didn't tell me!" Tas nearly shouted, then he calmed down. "All you said was that we had to rescue Sestun before breakfast, because gully dwarf might start looking more appetizing to a dragon who hadn't eaten in twelve hours."

"Makes sense," Fizban conceded. "Are you sure I said it?"

"Look," said Tasslehoff patiently, "all we really need is a long rope to throw down to him. Can't you magic that up?"

"Rope!" Fizban glared at him. "As if I'd stoop so low! That is an insult to one of my skill. Help me stand."

Tas helped the mage stand. "I didn't mean to insult you," the kender said, "and I know there's nothing fancy about rope and you are very skilled… It's just that-oh, all right!" Tas gestured toward the balcony. "Go ahead. I just hope we all survive," he muttered under his breath.

"I won't let you down-or Sestun either, for that matter," Fizban promised, beaming. The two peeked over the balcony. Everything was as before. Sestun lay in a corner. The dragon slept soundly. Fizban closed his eyes. Concentrating, he murmured eerie words, then stretched his thin hand through the railing of the balcony and began to make a lifting motion.

Tasslehoff, watching, felt his heart fly up in his throat. "Stop!" he gurgled. "You've got the wrong one!"

Fizban's eyes flew open to see the red dragon, Pyros, slowly rising off the floor, his body still curled in sleep. "Oh, dear!" the magician gasped and, quickly saying different words, he reversed the spell, lowering the dragon to the ground. "Missed my aim," the mage said. "Now I'm zeroed in. Let's try again."

Tas heard the eerie words again. This time Sestun began to rise off the floor and, breath by breath, came level with the balcony. Fizban's face grew red with exertion.

"He's almost here! Keep going!" Tas said, hopping up and down in excitement. Guided by Fizban's hand, Sestun sailed peacefully over the balcony. He came to rest on the dusty floor, still asleep.

"Sestun!" Tas whispered, putting his hand over the gully dwarf's mouth so that he wouldn't yell. "Sestun! It's me Tasslehoff. Wake up."

The gully dwarf opened his eyes. His first thought was that Verminaard had decided to feed him to a vicious kender instead of the dragon. Then the gully dwarf recognized his friend and went limp with relief.

"You're safe, but don't say a word," the kender warned. "The dragon can still hear us-" He was interrupted by a loud booming from below. The gully dwarf sat up in alarm.

"Shhh," said Tas, "probably just the door into the dragon's lair." He hurried back to the balcony where Fizban was peering through the railing. "What is it?"

"The Dragon Highlord," Fizban pointed to the second level where Verminaard stood on a ledge overlooking the dragon.

"Ember, awaken!" Verminaard yelled down at the sleeping dragon. "I have received reports of intruders! That cleric is here, inciting the slaves to rebellion!"

Pyros stirred and slowly opened his eyes, awakening from a disturbing dream in which he'd seen a gully dwarf fly. Shaking his giant head to clear away the sleep, he heard Verminaard ranting about clerics. He yawned. So the Dragon Highlord had found out the cleric was in the fortress. Pyros supposed he'd have to deal with this now, after all.

"Do not trouble yourself, my lord-" Pyros began, then stopped abruptly, staring at something very strange.

"Trouble myself!" Verminaard fumed. "Why I-" He stopped, too. The object at which both stared was drifting down through the air, gently as a feather.

Fizban's hat.

Tanis woke everyone in the darkest hour before dawn.

"Well," said Sturm, "do we go ahead?"

"We have no choice," Tanis said grimly, looking at the group "If one of you has betrayed us, then he must live with the knowledge that he has brought about the deaths of innocents. Verminaard will kill not only us, but the hostages as well. I pray that there is no traitor, and so I'm going ahead with our plans."

No one said anything, but each glanced sideways at the others, suspicion gnawing at all of them.

When the women were awake, Tanis went over the plan again.

"My friends and I will sneak up to the children's room with Maritta, disguised as the women who usually bring the children breakfast. We'll lead them to the courtyard," Tanis said quietly. "You must go about your business as you do every morning. When you are allowed into the exercise area, get the children and start moving immediately toward the mines. Your menfolk will handle the guards there and you can escape safely into the mountains to the south. Do you understand?"

The women nodded silently as they heard the sound of the guards approaching.

"This is it," Tanis said softly. "Back to your work."

The women scattered. Tanis beckoned to Tika and Laurana.

"If we have been betrayed, you will both be in great danger, since you'll be guarding the women-" he began.

"We'll all be in great danger," Laurana amended coldly. She hadn't slept all night. She knew that if she released the tight bands she had wrapped around her soul, fear would overwhelm her.

Tanis saw none of this inner turmoil. He thought she appeared unusually pale and exceptionally beautiful this morning. A long-time campaigner himself, his preoccupation made him forget the terrors of a first battle.

Clearing his throat, he said huskily, "Tika, take my advice. Keep your sword in your scabbard. You're less dangerous, that way." Tika giggled and nodded nervously. "Go say goodbye to Caramon," Tanis told her.

Tika blushed crimson and, giving Tanis and Laurana a meaningful look, ran off.

Tanis gazed at Laurana steadily for a moment, and-for the first time-saw that her jaw muscles were clenched so tightly the tendons in her neck were stretched. He reached out to hold her, but she was stiff and cold as a draconian's corpse.

"You don't have to do this," Tanis said, releasing her. "This isn't your fight. Go to the mines with the other women."

Laurana shook her head, waiting to speak until she was certain her voice was under control. "Tika is not trained for fighting. I am. No matter if it was 'ceremonial. " She smiled bitterly at Tanis's look of discomfiture. "I will do my part, Tanis." His human name came awkwardly to her lips. "Otherwise, you might think I am a traitor."

"Laurana, please believe me!" Tanis sighed. "I don't think Gilthanas is a traitor any more than you do! It's just-damn it, there are so many lives at stake, Laurana! Can't you realize?"

Feeling his hands on her arms shake, she looked up at him and saw the anguish and the fear in his own face-mirroring the fear she felt inside. Only his was not fear for himself, it was fear for others.

She drew a deep breath. "I am sorry, Tanis," she said. "You are right. Look. The guards are here. It is time to go."

She turned and walked away without looking back. It didn't occur to her until it was too late that Tanis might have been silently asking for comfort himself.

Maritta and Goldmoon led the companions up a flight of narrow stairs to the first level. The draconian guards didn't accompany them, saying something about "special duty." Tanis asked Maritta if that was usual and she shook her head, her face worried. They had no choice but to go on. Six gully dwarves trailed after them, carrying heavy pots of what smelled like oatmeal. They paid little attention to the women until Caramon stumbled over his skirt climbing the stairs and fell to his knees, uttering a very unladylike oath. The gully dwarves' eyes opened wide.