Tina Daniell: The Companions

The shape they formed was that of Tasslehoff Burrfoot, the very image of the kender, reduced to miniature and animated by the sparkling points of light. The kender was gesticulating. Not only that, but Tasslehoff's utterly distinctive voice also piped eerily out of the long neck of the bottle.

"Dear Raistlin,

"Isn't this amazing? I'm writing to you on board the good ship Venora… at least it's been a good ship so far (about two nights and two days). Caramon is up on deck having a good time with his new friends the sailors, and Sturm…"

The trio listened in silence to the first half of the magic message. Tanis was amazed. Flint's jaw sagged open.

"Incredible," said Tanis. "Where did you get it?"

"A kender in a bottle," mused Flint wryly. "Not a bad idea. Not a bad idea at all."

"Shhh!" said Raistlin, "Here comes the important part."

The kender image continued its tale:

"…He didn't smell as bad as most of them usually do, either. Sturm said he actually detected the scent of soap on the horned beast, whose name is-I guess I should say was, but that's getting ahead of myself-Argotz.

"As I said, Argotz had the crushed jalopwort, and I haggled a fair deal out of him, and I guess he threw in some extra out of gratitude because when I got back to the inn where we were staying in Hyssop I noticed that I had about twice what I paid for.

"Anyway, that's not the strange part-remember, I told you there was a strange part. Although I guess you could say that it is plenty strange when a minotaur runs an herbal shop in a cave. At least Asa said so, and I seem to recall that you said so, too. But the really strange part…"

"The kender isn't even here and he's talking nonstop," muttered Flint, rolling his eyes.

"But the really strange part is what happened next. Oh, did I mention that Argotz was packing up all of his herbs and seemed to be in a big hurry to go somewhere? Of course, we didn't think anything of it until two days later when we woke up on our last morning at Hyssop. That was the day we had planned to leave, and we did leave, too, but before we left, a man came rushing into the inn to tell everyone about what had happened to the minotaur herbalist at the edge of town.

"We went out there ourselves to see, and sure enough, what the man said was true: A great big explosion had ripped through the cave and blown out the side of the mountain. Bits of the minotaur's goods and belongings were scattered in all directions. 'Argotz probably made a mistake and mixed some of the wrong herbs,' one of the local geniuses said. But if that were true, I answered, then why was his head, neatly severed and dripping blood, stuck on a pike at the edge of the path leading off the main road to the cave?

"Sturm and Caramon and I thought it was darned curious, but probably none of our business, and we were ready to leave anyway, so we made the boring journey back to Eastport and hired Captain Murloch and his ship to take us to Abanasinia. Captain Murloch reminds me of Flint, although he's much burlier and human, of course, but Captain Murloch thinks he knows the right way to do everything and doesn't always appreciate my advice.

"Anyway, that's the story of the minotaur herbalist and the crushed jalopwort, which I hope you like, since it cost me the use of this magic message bottle. I have to hurry now because there's a powerful storm brewing-rather unusually dark and fearsome, if you ask me-and I want to toss this into the sea while the waves are crashing high.

"P.S.: To anyone who finds this bottle and uncorks it, you will hear this message, but that's okay. Bring the bottle to Raistlin Majere of Solace, and he will give you at least fifty coppers for it, or even more because he's generous and doesn't care a whit about money anyway. Ask around town. Most everybody knows him.

"Truly yours,

"Tasslehoff Burrfoot of Kendermore,

"lately of Solace"

Swiftly Raistlin replaced the cork in the bottle and dropped it back into the folds of his cloak. The mage peered at Flint and Tanis, watching their reaction. "The magic is in the cork," the young mage noted for their benefit, "more so than in the bottle."

Still entranced by the idea of Tas in a bottle, Flint could only shake his head in wonderment.

"Where did you get it?" Tanis, his eyes narrowed, repeated his earlier question.

"A lucky stroke," replied Raistlin. "An honest peddler scooped it out of the water near the docks when he disembarked at a small port called Vengeance Bay on the coast of Abanasinia. After uncorking it and hearing the message, he decided to seek me out. He was planning to travel in this vicinity anyway, but fortunately he came to Solace directly. He arrived yesterday and inquired about me at the Inn of the Last Home. Otik located me, and," the mage added pointedly, "I paid the peddler seventy-five coppers just to prove the kender right."

"Seventy-five coppers!" exclaimed the notoriously thrifty dwarf.

"The message bottle is quite unique," agreed Tanis, standing and stretching. He gazed out over Crystalmir Lake, remembering a picnic he and Kitiara had had once on its shores. "But I don't understand why it puts you in mind of danger. It’s just Tas on a boat writing one of his rambling letters. The part about the minotaur herbalist is a little odd, but-"

"The peddler brought other information with him," Raistlin cut in. "He had come from Eastport himself, where the talk of the docks was that the Venora had been lost at sea in an unusually sudden and violent storm. The peddler has made the trip between Southern Ergoth and Abanasinia many times, so he knows Captain Murloch by sight, and he swears he saw some of the captain's mates drinking in the taverns of Vengeance Bay. And they were paying for their celebration with minotaur coin."

"Curious," agreed Tanis, running his fingers through his reddish brown hair.

"Even more curious," added Raistlin, "is that the corpse of Captain Murloch washed up on the rocks within the week. His body was bloated, his features erased. His face was eaten away, covered by strange burns and punctures. Despite that, the crew recognized him as their captain, and immediately they collected what remained of their minotaur money and scattered to the winds."

Tanis sat down heavily. Flint's brow furrowed.

"It's been over seven weeks since the Venora left Eastport," added Raistlin significantly.

"How do you know it isn't some kind of trick, or one of Tas's pranks?" barked Flint suspiciously. "How can you trust this peddler?"

"It's no trick!" responded Raistlin impatiently, "The peddler only wanted to do the errand and get his coppers. I could see that. He was well-meaning. The message in the bottle held no augury for him."

Flint sighed. He stood and skipped a stone across the surface of placid Lake Crystalmir. Seven skips. Not bad, the dwarf thought to himself with some pride.

Sturm and Caramon-those big oafs were nothing more than overgrown kids, really. They couldn't be counted on to behave sensibly, Flint thought. Why, he had spent hours with them in the woods along these very shores, and all around Solace for that matter, teaching them the lore of the forest. Willing enough pupils, but put them together with Tasslehoff, and…

"So they're a few weeks late," said Flint cautiously. "I don't see what all the bother is."

Raistlin grew solemn. "There's something else… something I should have realized before. You remember that I happened to be with Tasslehoff when his friend Asa told him there was a minotaur herbalist on Southern Ergoth who sold crushed jalopwort in his shop.

"As unlikely as that information seemed, I paid special attention because of an ancient spell I had come across once in one of Morath's spellbooks. Although the pages were crumbling and I couldn't decipher all the phrases, the spell intrigued me."