The sanctum of the Nightmaster was perfectly fascinating, Tasslehoff Burrfoot had to admit.

Crumbling walls dotted the dry, broken land. Here and there a few columns, all that was left of the temples of the fabled city, slanted toward the sky. Tumbled masonry lay everywhere. A broken statuette or two stood among the rubble.

Fissures, the result of earthquakes that had rocked the once-great city, zigzagged across the ground, contributing to the eerie landscape. Gray and black ash, some hardened into a brittle crust, blanketed everything.

The Nightmaster watched Tasslehoff as the kender picked his way across part of the dead city, plucking up an occasional ash-covered object and stuffing it in his backpack. Tas turned, saw the Nightmaster observing him, and waved, bounding back in his direction.

'Isn't the kender… interesting?" asked Fesz, for lack of a better word. The shaman was standing at the Nightmaster's elbow. "I trust you agree that it was a good idea to bring him here. Tasslehoff has been very helpful with information about all of his former friends, and he begged to accompany me."

"You're certain that he is evil?" rumbled the Nightmaster, tilting his head to peer at the approaching kender with his big bull eyes.

"He drinks a double dose of the potion every day. And he has given me no cause to doubt him."

"What is that strange wooden stick across his back?"

"It is called a hoopak, my lord," replied Fesz. "The kender says it is an invincible weapon." The shaman minotaur cracked a jagged smile. "I don't see any harm in indulging his childishness."

The Nightmaster cast a sideways glance at his disciple. Fesz was in line to succeed him. In some ways, he was the Nightmaster's most shrewd and trusted disciple, but in other ways, the Nightmaster knew, Fesz was the most guileless, the most trusting of minotaurs.

"What about the human, Sturm?"

"An incident that does dishonor to all minotaurs," agreed Fesz, "but Tasslehoff cannot be suspected. Sturm was within moments of losing the duel, and Tas was cheering as loudly as the rest of us. No minotaur was more upset and angry at the rescue than Tasslehoff himself. He insisted that several of the guards be put to death as punishment for allowing the Solamnic to escape! Why, he asked to execute one himself. Of course, we couldn't allow that because of the High Laws, but the fact remains, he asked."

The Nightmaster seemed to ponder this information. Then, with a shrug of his shoulders, he turned back to his room without walls that had once been the entrance to the great library. As he moved with animal grace, feathers rustled in the wind and the bells draping his immense shoulders and horns jingled.

"Hullo, Nightmaster!" Tasslehoff chirped after him.

The Nightmaster didn't turn around to acknowledge the kender's greeting. The high shaman sat heavily at his long table, while the other two members of the High Three hastened to bring him spellbooks and components. These he arranged in front of him, inspecting and comparing them, while making notes with a quill pen.

"Kind of standoffish, isn't he?" asked Tas.

"The time is near," rumbled Fesz solemnly. "The Nightmaster is concentrating all of his attention on the task at hand. I must go to him, Tasslehoff, and help him with the preparations."

Fesz turned and crossed over to the long table, where he took his place with the other two high acolytes of the Nightmaster. As the Nightmaster bent to his calculations, the High Three stood behind him, careful not to interrupt but quick to do his bidding each time he growled an instruction.

Tas shrugged and skipped over to where Kitiara was imprisoned in her wood-slatted cage. She looked a tad gaunt and unbathed, he thought to himself. He noticed that Dogz, sprawled on a blanket nearby, was watching him intently.

"So, Kit," said Tasslehoff, nonchalantly, "how'd you get to Karthay so quick? I'm impressed. I bet it was something magical, wasn't it?"

Kitiara looked at him stonily.

"Well, tell me this, then. How'd you get captured so easily? I thought Caramon was the only stupid Majere."

She glared at him and bit off the words. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not a Majere!"

Tas shrugged. "Well, half a Majere, then. Probably the half that got captured." He chuckled at his own jest.

"In case you haven't noticed, this place is crawling with minotaurs. How was I supposed to know that?"

Tas cut her off. "Hey, I hear you're going to be sacrificed when the time comes-tomorrow night, Fesz tells me-so if you have any messages you want me to give to Raistlin if I ever see him again, you might want to tell me now."

With all the strength she had left, Kit hurled herself futilely against the side of the cage. The slats shuddered, and the kender backed up a safe distance. Kit pressed her face against the slats and snarled in Tasslehoff's face.

"I don't know what mischief you're brewing, Tasslehoff," hissed Kit, "but if I ever get out of here, I'll wrap my hands around your treacherous little neck and squeeze the life out of you!"

"Well, I'm sorry that you're taking that attitude," said Tas in a hurt tone, "because we are such old and dear friends. Besides," he added mischievously, "I wonder if you're not just a little bit jealous. Admit it, you wouldn't mind being evil for a while yourself…"

Kit stared daggers at him.

Tasslehoff backstepped toward Dogz, grinning. The kender turned and looked at the minotaur, who eyed him ruefully.

"Now what's the matter with you?" asked Tas, plopping himself down on the ground next to the minotaur who was supposed to be guarding him.

"Nothing, friend Tas," said Dogz, picking up some dry ash and letting it sift through his fingers. He avoided Tas's eyes.

"Nothing, friend Tas," mimicked Tas in a singsong voice. He glanced around, estimating there were about a dozen minotaurs surrounding the perimeter of the Nightmaster's encampment. They carried all manner of weapons-double-edged axes, studded clubs, throwing spears, and barbed whips. Dozens more roamed farther out.

By contrast, none of the High Three were armed, nor was the Nightmaster. Only Dogz carried a broadsword, katar, and chain flail.

Dogz lowered his voice to a soft growl. "Sometimes I wonder about you, friend Tas," said the minotaur.

"Wonder what?"

"If you are really a friend to all these people-first, Sturm. And now this female, Kitiara. The way you treat them."

Tas patted Dogz on the shoulder. "Well, I got turned into an evil kender, right?" Tas reminded Dogz. "I'm just doing my best to act like one. Sure, they used to be my friends. But that was when I was good -well, pretty good-most of the time, anyway. Now I'm evil. And if I betray them, I'm just doing my job in the evil category. You ought to be proud of me."

"Yes," said Dogz hesitantly.

"The way I look at it," Tas expanded, lying back on the ash-covered ground, clasping his hands behind his head, "I'm a kind of honorary minotaur nowadays. Didn't you tell me once that might makes right and the minotaur race was going to conquer the world someday, and all that stuff?"

"Yes," replied Dogz once again.

"Well, I'm just proving my loyalty to the minotaur nation. If you had a choice between betraying your nation or betraying your friends-oops, I mean used-to-be friends-which would you do?"

The minotaur dipped his huge horns, and when he looked up, his eyes were huge and sad. His fetid breath nearly overwhelmed Tas. "I don't know. Betray my friends, I suppose," he added slowly, obviously confused.

"Aren't you looking forward to the time when Sargonnas comes into the world?"

Dogz looked over to where the Nightmaster sat reading his spellbooks. Behind him, the High Three stood purposefully.