senses. They can go places he cannot, see things he is unable to
see, hear conversations he has not been invited to share.”
At the time, Tasslehoff had thought it a wonderful idea,
although he recalled Raistlin had not been impressed. He
seemed to consider it a weakness, to be so heavily dependent
upon another living being.
“Well, answer me?” the red-robed mage demanded, shaking
Tasslehoff by the tail. Blood rushed to the kender’s head, mak-
ing him dizzy, plus being held by the tail was quite painful, to
say nothing of the indignity! All he could do, for a moment,
was to give thanks that Flint couldn’t see him.
I suppose, he thought bleakly, that familiars can talk. I hope
they speak Common, not something strange – like Mouse, for
example.
“I’m – I – uh – belong to” – what was a good name for a
mage? – “Fa – Faikus,” Tas squeaked, remembering hearing
Raistlin use this name in connection with a fellow student long
ago.
“Ah,” the red-robed mage said with a frown, “I might have
known. Were you out upon some errand for your master