“What’s the matter, Caramon?” the kender asked, noting that the big man’s face was red and he appeared to be breathing more rapidly than normal.
“Nothing! Just leave me alone!” Caramon ordered, tromping down the hall.
Open me! Open me!
“This is truly remarkable,” said Earwig happily as he reached into his pouch for the box. There was really no reason why he shouldn’t open it in front of Caramon, but the kender felt a sudden need to keep the marvelous box hidden from his friend. Letting the warrior get ahead of him, Earwig flicked the catch with his finger. The lid of the box flew open. Inside was a single ring—a plain, gold band without stone or engraving, nestled in red velvet. Earwig frowned in disappointment, having hoped to find something more interesting. After all, the box had talked to him.
“So, where were you?” Caramon demanded, stopping dead in his tracks to confront the kender. “Hiding behind a curtain?”
Earwig thrust the box beneath his tunic. “Curtain? I wasn’t behind any curtain!”
“I heard you call my name from that room! You must have been somewhere? One of the dressers?”
Earwig shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Caramon. I came into that room looking for you!”
The warrior glared at the kender skeptically. Then, shrugging, he shook his head and sighed. “It’s this weird house. It’s got me hearing things. So, where have you been?”
150
BROttjens Majene
“Well, I’ve been to Solace and Thelgaard and Southern Ergoth and—”
“I mean where in the house!” Caramon shouted, exasperated.
“Oh. Why didn’t you say so?” Earwig said, slapping himself in the forehead with the palm of his hand, raising his eyes to heaven. “There’s a really fantastic room that’s filled with plants, and they’re all growing indoors.”
“Plants?” Caramon repeated. “Are you sure there’s a room with plants in it?”
“Yeah. It’s all hot and steamy in there, too.”
“Uh-huh. Next you’ll tell me there’s a secret chamber somewhere.”
“Wow! How did you kn—”
“Name of the Abyss, Earwig! Quit making up these wild tales of yours!” Caramon stalked off down the hall. “Come on. I think we should be getting back to Raist.”
“Sure, Caramon,” Earwig said cheerfully. He slipped the ring onto his finger.
“You and Caramon are twins?” Shavas asked from across the small table.
Raistlin glanced up from the game board before him, startled by the observation. He had made no mention of it before. “I didn’t think it was that obvious,” he said dryly.
“Granted, you don’t resemble each other, but you and your brother are more alike than perhaps either of you realize.”
“I doubt that, Lady Shavas, The same informant who told you of our plans to come to Mereklar must have given you this information, as well.”
DRAQONLANCE PneluDes
“Don’t be angry, Raistlin,” the lady said, looking at him with her splendid eyes, the eyes that did not age. “With such terrible trouble coming to our city, it is my duty as councillor to divine the intent and motives of all who visit Mereklar.”
She was right, of course. Raistlin grudgingly admitted and sneered at himself. This cursed nature of his that must gain dominion of everything, everyone . . . despite the fact that he could still taste the sweetness of her lips on his.
The game board was a block of unidentifiable grayish metal the length of a forearm and many inches thick, checkered on top with alternating squares of silver and ebony. The mage reached over and moved the carved figure of a man on a horse two spaces left and one forward.
“An excellent move, but one with which 1 am familiar.” The councillor smiled.
Taking a piece of gold—a small rectangle with a raised square at one end—from a scale set to the side of the players, she placed it among a small pile she was accumulating. The scales tipped toward the mage. Shavas moved one of her own pieces—a man with a large shield and spear—from in front of Raistlin’s knight, next to two other knights on the same row. She placed a thick metal bar under her men, creating a barrier Raistlin’s horseman could not cross.