I'm very sorry that this takes so long but at the moment I can't find time for writing. I blame it on Christmas time. So forgive me that I leave out the usual review comments. Except to Childlike Empress. I fear that our darling host doesn't allow emailadresses in reviews for the emailadress was not displayed in your last review either. Please write me an email on that, I might go and follow your suggestion.

Oh, and if you hated the last cliff-hanger you'll probably want to strangle me for this one...

Thnaks to you all for reviewing,

Petalwing

--

Chapter 36 - Imaginations From the Other Side

'I'm half sick of shadows said the Lady of Shalott.'

"Hm..." Nima pressed her index finger against her lower lip while thinking. It was not the first time Raistlin had noticed this habit. "That leaves two questions. How did we come here in the first place and how do we get out of here?"

She looked him questioningly. Her gaze met a cynical smile on the mage's lips.

"Kender, if I had already figured out the answer to your questions, I would definitely not be here anymore."

"You surely meant 'we' not 'I'." Nima corrected. "WE would be out of here."

He frowned.

"Really? Did I?"

She pouted. On her sweet girlish face it looked out of place and almost comical.

"Of course you meant 'we'." she insisted stubbornly. "I mean, it's your odd dream after all. You are responsible. So it is your job to get us out again. I'm just your average guardian-kender who watches over you."

In response he leaned towards her until their faces were as close as quill-distance, his eyes narrowing. Dark hourglasses fixed her. His voice was nothing more then a hoarse whisper.

"Once for all, kender, keep one thing in mind: There exists no 'We'. Just because we're both involved in this, it doesn't mean that I feel in any way responsible for you, even less that I would be loyal in any respect. These meetings are only a temporary inconvenience that I will undo soon. Your presence here is nothing more than an unfortunate coincidence without any further meaning or obligation. You are completely unimportant."

He leaned back after having made his point clear. To his surprise there was no apparent reaction on her face, though. He had expected refusal, defiance or offended looks. However, her expression was rather dreamy than anything else. And her next question even made him doubt whether she had actually listened to his words.

"You smell nice. Like herbs and roses, you know?"

What in the abyss was wrong with this tedious girl? Was she a half-wit?

"Did you listen to one word I said?"

"Of course." Nima grinned and if he hadn't been sure that kender were not capable of this, he would have regarded her expression as sly.

"You said 'we'."

"What do you mean?" he demanded irritably.

Nima hadn't stopped grinning yet.

"You said 'we'. When you said 'Just because we're both involved in this' you said 'we'. But you know what? I don't have time to argue about this right now. I'm too thirsty to think. This is too complicated for me, let's look for the kitchen. Since its your dream, you should probably lead the way, don't you think?"

For once he felt rhetorically disarmed. He couldn't quite deny that she was right in respect to his use of grammar and she had also been the first to get back to the right priorities. There was only one thing left to do. He rose carefully and strode past her.

"This is no average dream or we would be awake by now. Therefore, we will look for a way to wake up or for a passage back to the globule." Raistlin said when he entered the hall, ending all discussions about kitchens.

He didn't look back to make sure that she followed him. Sometimes, he realized, ignorance must be blissful.

He opened the door and entered a narrow hallway. It was dim, barely illuminated by an indirect light of unknown source. As the kender had said, to the right, there was a dead end. The only door stood at the end of the hallway, to the left. The wooden floor resembled the building in Solace in some respects but it was likewise unfamiliar. Raistlin saw no other option and slowly proceeded to the only door that could lead them further. He had to stop twice and lean against the wall. His draining fever definitely didn't make things easier. In the moment his fingers closed around the doorknob, the door sprang open...

They stood in a high hall. Dark walls surrounded them with bookshelves covering every spot. A small fireplace in the back of the hall was the only source of light. This room had similarities to his own library in the tower of Palanthas, yet there were subtle differences. However, there was not one single object that didn't seem oddly familiar. Only the arrangement was wrong, or at least warped. Behind him he heard the kender gasp. What had she done now?

"Huh, Raistlin." she exclaimed." The door has gone! Look!"

Indeed, solid wall filled the place where they had just stepped through.

"Ha, I told you that this creepy house was moving!"

He muttered a spell and performed the necessary gestures. However, it was not a concealed door. Even to astral sight the wall was solid and not distinguishable from the other parts. He had to admit that this was actually irritating. However, he didn't want to analyze the physical possibilities of a reality where a door in Solace lead to a bizarre copy of a library in Palanthas. They had to watch their step. He was about to pass on the warning to Nima, when he noticed that she was gone while he had been preoccupied with his true-sight invocation. At the same time, he heard her yell excitedly from somewhere to the left. Passing a bookshelf he found her occupied with another door.

"I found another one!" she cried happily and opened it. The moment Raistlin sped up to reach her in time before she inevitably performed an inconsiderate action, the fever demanded another tribute and for some moments darkness welled up before his eyes. He staggered shortly and when his sight cleared, she was already gone.

He peered through the open door and saw the old schoolroom of Master Theobald's house. But in contrast to how he had always experienced it in the past, it was dark and deserted as if it hadn't been used for years. Only a candle on the teacher's table lit the room. The blackboard still had some vowels in the language of magic written on it. This was a remnant of Master Theobald's usual writing tests. Even in the darkness, Raistlin could recognize his own clear handwriting among the crude scribble of his classmates.

Over the white chalk letters of the students, somebody had painted other signs. Signs that were much more elaborate and complicated. These symbols were not as prominent as the student's inscriptions since they had been painted with red color. After a while, he recognized a pentagram and certain astrological signs as they were used in the summoning of beings from other planes. But Theobald had surely never taught his students anything like this? Even he, Raistlin, had needed years of study and research to find a way to these secrets and mysteries of the dark sides of magic.

But more importantly, he couldn't sense Nima in the classroom. If she had been here, she would have said something by now. It was completely impossible for her to keep her mouth shut longer then a minute.

He still pondered where she could have been transported to, when he heard the soft scratching of several opening drawers from the student's desks.

His eyes widened. They were close again. They had waited for a chance to trap him without light. Within seconds the candle flickered and expired. To his utmost horror he heard the beings clicking and shuffling behind the blackboard and under the tables. He had only once chance, he had to be quicker then them. Luckily he hadn't let go of the door yet. They were only inches away now, speeding up and charging for him as if his sheer presence was a clear signal in the darkness. Without thinking he made a hasty step back and banged the door close violently. At the moment the lock snapped in, something bumped against the door from the other side, giving a loud knock that made Raistlin jump. That had been a close one.

When he turned around the library was gone. Now, he stood in another place again which he immediately recognized as the common room of the grungy old inn he had visited during his test. In this very room he had met the dark elves. Not surprisingly, nobody was here besides himself. While he searched for an exit, he suddenly noticed the burning candles in the chandelier above his head. The only source of light. To his horror, they slowly went out one by one as if extinguished by an unseen hand. With each candle the darkness advanced, came closer. Where was the staff of Magius when you needed it? Unlike the latest 'dreams' it wasn't automatically with him. Panic arose in him when there were only three candles left and the clicking started again in the corners. That couldn't be his only option. Of course he didn't need the staff to produce a decent light spell. That was a beginner's class catechism. He fought for calmness but his soul had already succumbed to an overwhelming wave of utmost, shaking trepidation. A devastating, paralyzing emotion he remembered too well.

Only two candles left...

The clicking came nearer. With trembling lips he muttered the words of the spell. Everything went fine until he came to the last syllable. The last consonant. Which one was it? 'k' or 'g' Which one? He couldn't believe it, but all of a sudden he was confused with two options. His usually sharp memory was blurred by the tremor of panic. No, that mustn't happen now, he should easily overcome such a loss of self control. Especially with the firm governance of the soul that he had achieved during the last ten years. However, he realized, this time all was different. This time he was confronted with his most private and deepest fears. The darkness...

Only one candle left...

He needed to remember! Every child coud do it! 'k' or 'g'? Gods, how often had he used that spell? A thousand times? Probably more then a thousand times. The last candle flickered. He still couldn't come up with the right answer. This time not paralyzed in body but in mind. Meanwhile the last candle died with a subtle puffing. He was alone. With them.

The agonizing clicking had become louder each time a candle had been snuffed out. There must be hundreds of those beasts. He heard their little sharp legs on the floor. The clicking had grown so loud he couldn't even hear his own blood rushing through his veins anymore.

'The things I didn't want to see...' he realized.

What an irony of ironies. Raistlin Majere, the ambitious, promising archmage, would be killed in his own nightmare by his childhood phobia because he had not been able to cast a primitive light spell.

'If your armor is made of dross...'

Yes, finally Fistandantilus, the dark elves and even Master Theobald would get their revenge at last. And then, his foes had reached him...

--

TBC