didn’t help. Her red curls bouncing in anger, she whirled
around and disappeared through a door into the kitchen. Cara-
mon winced as he heard heavy iron pots bang. The sound
brought the dwarves and their hammers back. Within a few
moments, Tika returned, carrying a huge dish of sizzling
bacon, fried maize cakes, and eggs. She slammed the plate
down in front of him with such force the cakes leaped three
inches into the air.
Caramon winced again. He wondered briefly about eating –
considering the queasy state of his stomach – then grouchily
reminded his stomach who was boss. He was starved, he
couldn’t remember when he’d eaten last. Tika flounced down
in a chair next to him. Glancing up, he saw her green eyes blaz-
ing. Her freckles stood out clearly against her skin – a certain
sign of fury.
“All right,” Caramon growled, shoveling food into his
mouth. “What’d I do now?”
“You don’t remember.” It was a statement.
Caramon cast about hastily in the foggy regions of his mind.
Something stirred vaguely. He was supposed to have been
somewhere last night. He’d stayed home all day, getting ready.
He’d promised Tika… but he’d grown thirsty. His flask was
empty. He’d just go down to the Trough for a quick nip, then to
… where… why…
“I had business to attend to,” Caramon said, avoiding Tika’s
gaze.
“Yes, we saw your business,” Tika snapped bitterly. “The
business that made you pass out right at Tanis’s feet!”
“Tanis!” Caramon dropped his fork. “Tanis… last night…”
With a heartsick moan, the big man let his aching head sink
into his hands.
“You made quite a spectacle of yourself,” Tika continued, her
voice choked. “In front of the entire town, plus half the elves in
Krynn. Not to mention our old friends.” She was weeping qui-
etly now. “Our best friends….”
Caramon moaned again. Now he was crying, too. “Why?
Why?” he blubbered. “Tanis, of all of them…” His self-
recriminations were interrupted by a banging on the front
door.
“Now what?” Tika muttered, rising and wiping her tears
away with the sleeve of her blouse. “Maybe it’s Tanis, after all.”
Caramon lifted his head. “Try at least to look like the man you
once were,” Tika said under her breath as she hurried to the
door.
Throwing the bolt, she unlatched it. “Otik?” she said in
astonishment. “What are – Whose food?”
The rotund, elderly innkeeper stood in the doorway, a plate
of steaming food in his hand. He peered past Tika.
“Isn’t she here?” he asked, startled.
“Isn’t who here?” Tika replied, confused. “There’s no one
here.”
“Oh, dear.” Otik’s face grew solemn. Absently, he began to
eat the food from the plate. “Then I guess the stableboy was
right. She’s gone. And after I fixed this nice breakfast.”
“Who’s gone?” Tika demanded in exasperation, wondering if
he meant Dezra.
“Lady Crysania. She’s not in her room. Her things aren’t
there, either. And the stableboy said she came this morning,
told him to saddle her horse, and left. I thought -”
“Lady Crysania!” Tika gasped. “She’s gone off, by herself.
Of course, she would….”
“What?” asked Otik, still munching.
“Nothing,” Tika said, her face pale. “Nothing, Otik. Uh, you
better get back to the Inn. I’ll – I may be a little late today.”
“Sure, Tika,” Otik said kindly, having seen Caramon
hunched over the table. “Get there when you can.” Then he left,
eating as he walked. Tika shut the door behind him.
Seeing Tika return, and knowing he was in for a lecture, Car-
amon rose clumsily to his feet. “I’m not feeling too good,” he
said. Lurching across the floor, he staggered into the bedroom,
slamming the door shut behind him. Tika could hear the sound
of wracking sobs from inside.
She sat down at the table, thinking. Lady Crysania had
gone, she was going to find Wayreth Forest by herself. Or
rather, she had gone in search of it. No one ever found it,
according to legend. It found you! Tika shivered, remembering
Caramon’s stories. The dread Forest was on maps, but –
comparing them – no two maps ever agreed on its location.