Margaret Weis - Time of the Twins

“And drawn to evil as a moth is drawn to the flame,” Par-Salian murmured, looking at Crysania with deep pity.

Tas, watching Caramon, wondered if the big man was even absorbing half of this. He had a vague, dull-witted look about him, as if he wasn’t quite certain where—or who—he was. Tas shook his head dubiously. They’re going to send him back in time? the kender thought.

“Raistlin has other reasons for wanting both this woman and his brother back in time with him, of that you may be certain,” the red-robed mage said to Par-Salian. “He has not revealed his game, not by any means. He has told us—through our agent—just enough to leave us confused. I say we thwart his plans!”

Par-Salian did not reply. But, lifting his head, he stared at Caramon for long moments and in his eyes was a sadness that pierced Tas’s heart. Then, shaking his head, he lowered his gaze, looking fixedly at the hem of his robes. Bupu whimpered, and Tas patted her absently. Why that strange look at Caramon? the kender wondered uneasily. Surely they wouldn’t send him off to certain death? Yet, wasn’t that what they’d be doing if they sent him back the way he was now—sick, depressed, confused? Tas shifted from one foot to the other, then yawned. No one was paying any attention to him. All this talk was boring. He was hungry, too. If they were going to send Caramon back in time, he wished they’d just do it.

Suddenly, he felt one part of his mind (the part that was listening to Par-Salian) tug at the other part. Hurriedly, Tas brought both parts together to listen to what was being said.

Dalamar was talking. “She spent the night in his study. I do not know what was discussed, but I know that when she left in the morning, she appeared distraught and shaken. His last words to her were these, ‘Has it occurred to you that Paladine did not send you to stop me but to help me?’”

“And what answer did she make?”

“She did not answer him,” Dalamar replied. “She walked back through the Tower and then through the Grove like one who can neither see nor hear.”

“What I do not understand is why Lady Crysania was traveling here to seek our help in sending her back’? Surely she must have known we would refuse such a request!” the red-robed mage stated.

“I can answer that!” Tasslehoff said, speaking before he thought.

Now Par-Salian was paying attention to him, now all the mages in the semi-circle were paying attention to him. Every head turned in his direction. Tas had talked to spirits in Darken Wood, he had spoken at the Council of White Stone but, for a moment, he was awed at this silent, solemn audience. Especially when it occurred to him what he had to say.

“Please, Tasslehoff Burrfoot,” Par-Salian spoke with great courtesy, “tell us what you know.” The mage smiled. “Then, perhaps, we can bring this meeting to a close and you can have your dinner.”

Tas blushed, wondering if Par-Salian could, perhaps, see through his head and read his thoughts printed on his brain like he read words printed on a sheet of parchment.

“Oh! Yes, dinner would be great. But, now, um—about Lady Crysania.” Tas paused to collect his thoughts, then launched into his tale. “Well, I’m not certain about this, mind you. I just know from what little I was able to pick up here and there. To begin at the beginning, I met Lady Crysania when I was in Palanthas visiting my friend, Tanis Half-Elven. You know him? And Laurana, the Golden General? I fought with them in the War of the Lance. I helped save Laurana from the Queen of Darkness.” The kender spoke with pride. “Have you ever heard that story? I was in the Temple at Neraka—”

Par-Salian’s eyebrows raised ever so slightly, and Tas stuttered.

“Uh, w-well, I’ll tell that later. Anyway, I met Lady Crysania at Tanis’s home and I heard their plans to travel to Solace to see Caramon. As it happened, I-I sort of... well, found a letter Lady Crysania had written to Elistan. I think it must have fallen out of her pocket.”

The kender paused for breath. Par-Salian’s lips twitched, but he refrained from smiling.

“I read it,” Tas continued, now enjoying the attention of his audience, “just to see if it was important. After all, she might have thrown it away. In the letter, she said she was more—uh, how did it go—‘firmly convinced than ever, after my talk with Tanis, that there was good in Raistlin and that he could be turned from his evil path. I must convince the mages of this—’ Anyhow, I saw that the letter was important, so I took it to her. She was very grateful to get it back,” Tas said solemnly. “She hadn’t realized she’d lost it.”

Par-Salian put his fingers on his lips to control them.

“I said I could tell her lots of stories about Raistlin, if she wanted to hear them. She said she’d like that a lot, so I told her all the stories I could think of. She was particularly interested in the ones I told her about Bupu—

“‘If only I could find the gully dwarf!’ she said to me one night. ‘I’m certain I could convince Par-Salian that there is hope, that he may be reclaimed!’”

At this, one of the Black Robes snorted loudly. Par-Salian glanced sharply in that direction, the wizards hushed. But Tas saw many of them—particularly the Black Robes—fold their arms across their chests in anger. He could see their eyes glittering from the shadows of their hoods.

“Uh, I’m s-sure I didn’t mean to offend,” Tas stuttered. “I know I always thought Raistlin looked much better in black—with that golden skin of his and all. I certainly don’t believe everyone has to be good, of course. Fizban—he’s really Paladine—we’re great personal friends, Paladine and I—Anyway, Fizban said that there had to be a balance in the world, that we were fighting to restore the balance. So that means that there has to be Black Robes as well as White, doesn’t it?”

“We know what you mean, kenderken,” Par-Salian said gently. “Our brethren take no offense at your words. Their anger is directed elsewhere. Not everyone in the world is as wise as the great Fizban the Fabulous.”

Tas sighed. “I miss him, sometimes. But, where was I? Oh, yes, Bupu. That’s when I had my idea. Maybe, if Bupu told her story, the mages would believe her, I said to Lady Crysania. She agreed and I offered to go and find Bupu. I hadn’t been to Xak Tsaroth since Goldmoon killed the black dragon and it was just a short hop from where we were and Tanis said it would be fine with him. He seemed quite pleased to see me off, actually.

“The Highpulp let me take Bupu, after a—uh—small bit of discussion and some interesting items that I had in my pouch. I—took Bupu to Solace, but Tanis had already gone and so had Lady Crysania. Caramon was—” Tas stopped, hearing Caramon clear his throat behind him. “Caramon was—wasn’t feeling too good, but Tika—that’s Caramon’s wife and a great friend of mine—anyway, Tika said we had to go after Lady Crysania, because the Forest of Wayreth was a terrible place and—No offense meant, I’m certain, but did you ever stop to think that your Forest is really nasty? I mean, it is not friendly”—Tas glared at the mages sternly—“and I don’t know why you let it wander around loose! I think it’s irresponsible!”

Par-Salian’s shoulders quivered.

“Well, that’s all I know,” Tas said. “And, there’s Bupu, and she can—” Tas stopped, looking around. “Where’d she go?”

“Here,” Caramon said grimly, dragging the gully dwarf out from behind his back where she had been cowering in abject terror. Seeing the mages staring at her, the gully dwarf gave a shriek and collapsed onto the floor, a quivering bundle of ragged clothes.

“I think you had better tell us her story,” Par-Salian said to Tas. “If you can, that is.”