dining tables. Putting that one down, she started on another
and polished off a dish of gravy, the butter, the sugar and
cream, and finally half a dish of milk potatoes before Tas real-
ized what she was doing. He just barely saved a salt cellar.
“Well,” said Tas brightly. Pushing back his empty plate, he
tried to ignore the sight of Bupu grabbing it and licking it clean.
“I’m feeling much better. How about you, Caramon? Let’s go
explore!”
“Explore!” Caramon gave him such a horrified look that Tas
was momentarily taken aback. “Are you mad? I wouldn’t set
foot outside that door for all the wealth in Krynn!”
“Really?” Tas asked eagerly. “Why not? Oh, tell me, Cara-
mon! What’s out there?”
“I don’t know.” The big man shuddered. “But it’s bound to be
awful.”
“I didn’t see any guards -”
“No, and there’s a damn good reason for that,” Caramon
snarled. “Guards aren’t needed around here. I can see that look
in your eye, Tasslehoff, and you just forget about it right now!
Even if you could get out” – Caramon gave the door to the
room a haunted look – “which I doubt, you’d probably walk
into the arms of a lich or worse!”
Tas’s eyes opened wide. He managed, however, to squelch an
exclamation of delight. Looking down at his shoes, he mut-
tered, “Yeah, I guess you’re right, Caramon. I’d forgotten
where we were.”
“I guess you did,” Caramon said severely. Rubbing his aching
shoulders, the big man groaned. “I’m dead tired. I’ve got to get
some sleep. You and what’s-er-name there turn in, too. All
right?”
“Sure, Caramon,” Tasslehoff said.
Bupu, belching contently, had already wrapped herself up in
a rug before the fire, using the remainder of the bowl of milk
potatoes for a pillow.
Caramon eyed the kender suspiciously. Tas assumed the
most innocent look a kender could possibly assume, the result
of which was that Caramon shook his finger at him sternly.
“Promise me you won’t leave this room, Tasslehoff Burrfoot.
Promise just like you’d promise… say, Tanis, if he were here.”
“I promise,” Tas said solemnly, “just like I’d promise Tanis – if
he were here.”
“Good.” Caramon sighed and collapsed onto a bed that
creaked in protest, the mattress sagging clear to the floor
beneath the big man’s weight. “I guess someone’ll wake us up
when they decide what they’re going to do.”
“Will you really go back in time, Caramon?” Tas asked wist-
fully, sitting down on his own bed and pretending to unlace his
boots.
“Yeah, sure. ‘S no big thing,” Caramon murmured sleepily.
“Now get some sleep and… thanks, Tas. You’ve been…
you’ve been… a big help…. “His words trailed off into a
snore.
Tas held perfectly still, waiting until Caramon’s breathing
became even and regular. That didn’t take long because the big
man was emotionally and physically exhausted. Looking at
Caramon’s pale, careworn, and tear-streaked face, the kender
felt a moment’s twinge of conscience. But kender are accus-
tomed to dealing with twinges of conscience – just as humans
are accustomed to dealing with mosquito bites.
“He’ll never know I’ve been gone,” Tas said to himself as he
sneaked across the floor past Caramon’s bed. “And I really
didn’t promise him I wouldn’t go anywhere. I promised Tanis.
And Tanis isn’t here, so the promise doesn’t count. Besides, I’m
certain he would have wanted to explore, if he hadn’t been so
tired.”
By the time Tas crept past Bupu’s grubby little body, he had
firmly convinced himself that Caramon had ordered him to
look around before going to bed. He tried the door handle with
misgivings, remembering Caramon’s warning. But it opened
easily. We are guests then, not prisoners. Unless there was a lich
standing guard outside. Tas poked his head around the door-
frame. He looked up the hall, then down the hall. Nothing. Not
a lich in sight. Sighing a bit in disappointment, Tas slipped out
the door, then shut it softly behind him.
The hallway ran to his left and to his right, vanishing around
shadowy corners at either end. It was barren, cold, and empty.
Other doors branched off from the hallway, all of them dark,