“Ah!” exclaimed Tas, laughing. “Here the ale comes up and the garbage goes down.” He swung out onto the rope and shinnied down easily.
“I’m sorry about this,” Tika apologized to Goldmoon, “but it is the only way out of here.”
“I can climb down a rope.” Then the woman smiled and added, “Though I admit it has been many years.”
She handed her staff to her companion and grasped the stout rope. She began to descend, moving skillfully hand over hand. When she had reached the bottom, her companion tossed the staff down, swung on the rope, and dropped through the hole.
“How are you going to get down, Raist?” Caramon asked, his face lined with concern. “I can carry you on my back-”
Raistlin’s eyes flashed with an anger that startled Tanis. “I can get down myself!” the mage hissed. Before anyone could stop him, he stepped to the edge of the hole and leaped out into the air. Everyone gasped and peered down, expecting to see Raistlin splattered all over the ground. Instead, they saw the young mage gently floating down, his robes fluttering around him. The crystal on his staff glowed brightly.
“He shivers my skin!” Flint growled to Tanis.
“Hurry!” Tanis shoved the dwarf forward. Flint grabbed hold of the rope. Caramon followed, the big man’s weight causing the limb the rope was tied around to creak.
“I will go last,” Sturm said, his sword drawn.
“Very well.” Tanis knew it was useless to argue. He slung the longbow and quiver of arrows over his shoulder, grabbed the rope, and started down. Suddenly his hands slipped. He slid down the rope, unable to stop it tearing the skin off his palms. He landed on the ground and looked, wincing, at his hands. His palms were raw and bleeding. But there was no time to think about them. Glancing up, he watched as Sturm descended.
Tika’s face appeared in the opening. “Go to my house!” she mouthed, pointing through the trees. Then she was gone.
“I know the way,” Tasslehoff said, his eyes glowing with excitement. “Follow me.”
They hurried off after the kender, hearing the sounds of the guards climbing the stairway into the Inn. Tanis, unused to walking on the ground in Solace, was soon lost. Above him he could see the bridge-walks, the street lamps gleaming among the tree leaves. He was completely disoriented, but Tas kept pushing forward confidently, weaving in and out among the huge trunks of the vallenwood trees. The sounds of the commotion at the Inn faded.
“We’ll hide at Tika’s for the night,” Tanis whispered to Sturm as they plunged through the underbrush. “Just in case someone recognized us and decides to search our homes. Everyone will have forgotten about this by morning. We’ll take the Plainsmen to my house and let them rest a few days. Then we can send the barbarians on to Haven where the Council of High Seekers can talk with them. I think I might even go along -I’m curious about this staff.”
Sturm nodded. Then he looked at Tanis and smiled his rare, melancholy smile. “Welcome home,” the knight said.
“Same to you.” The half-elf grinned.
They both came to a sudden halt, bumping into Caramon in the dark.
“We’re here, I think,” Caramon said.
In the light of the street lamps that hung in the tree limbs, they could see Tasslehoff climbing tree branches like a gully dwarf. The rest followed more slowly, Caramon assisting his brother. Tanis, gritting his teeth from the pain in his hands, climbed up slowly through the rapidly thinning autumn foliage. Tas pulled himself up over the porch railing with the skill of a burglar. The kender slipped over to the door and peered up and down the bridge-walk. Seeing no one on it, he motioned to the others. Then he studied the lock and smiled to himself in satisfaction. The kender slid something out of one of his pouches. Within seconds, the door of Tika’s house swung open.
“Come in,” he said, playing host.
They crowded inside the little house, the tall barbarian being forced to duck his head to avoid hitting the ceiling. Tas pulled the curtains shut. Sturm found a chair for the lady, and the tall barbarian went to stand behind her. Raistlin stirred up the fire.