[Meetings 02] - Wanderlust Page 4

  "And the coast. There are the Straits of Schallsea across the north, and Newsea on the east."

  At last Tanis caught on. "Oh, I see. This is the coastline, here. I thought that was part of the stain."

  "That is part of the stain," corrected Tas, pointing with a thin finger. "This is the coast."

  "Right," said Tanis. "I see it now."

  "I told you this would be nothing but trouble," Flint sang out softly.

  Tanis ignored the dwarf as he pressed his face close to the map, pausing occasionally to take swigs from his mug. Tasslehoff sat quietly waiting for words of appreciation or admiration.

  He sat still as long as he could, which was about fifteen seconds. When the lack of conversation became unbearable, he blurted, "Isn't Tanthalas an elf name?"

  "That's right," said Tanis, still studying the map.

  "So how come you're not an elf?"

  Tanis looked up slowly. "It's kind of a long story."

  But Tasslehoff would not be put off. He crossed his arms expectantly. "I'm in no hurry."

  "You might as well tell him now," Flint ordered, "because he's not going to let up until he gets it out of you."

  Tasslehoff squirmed up to the edge of his seat as Tanis swallowed another mouthful of beer. "Well, a long time ago . . . oh, what the hell," he said, annoyed that he was making his heritage sound like a bedtime story. The half-elf set down his mug and then, using both hands, swept the long, reddish brown hair back on both sides of his head. Tasslehoff gasped on seeing the elongated, slightly pointed ears.

  "I don't get it," he said. "They're not elf ears, but they sure aren't human ears, either. They look like my ears, only twice as big. What are you, a giant kender?" Tas snickered behind his hand.

  That remark brought an explosion of laughter from Flint. The dwarf lurched forward, spraying beer all across Tanis's back. "A giant kender! He's assayed you, my boy!" Wiping tears from his face, Flint was able to stop laughing only by looking away from Tanis. Just as he calmed down, Flint looked back again and the sight of his friend, with hair pulled back and ears sticking up, started the whole uproar over again.

  More than slightly irritated, Tanis pulled his hair back across his ears. Tasslehoff tried hard to look concerned, but he could not keep his mouth from crinkling.

  "No," stated Tanis, "I am not a 'giant kender'."

  Tas snorted indelicately through his nose.

  Piqued, Tanis's almond-shaped eyes narrowed. "My mother was an elf and my father was a human warrior. My mother never even knew his name. All he left me was mixed blood and no people to call mine," he concluded somberly.

  "With those ears, you'd be welcome in Kendermore,"

  said Tasslehoff, slapping his knee in merriment. Feeling the effects of too much ale, both he and Flint promptly doubled up, shrieking with laughter. Tas kicked the table leg, while Flint pounded the top with his fist. Beer mugs danced and skittered across the surface, splashing foam on everyone.

  The half-elf leaped to his feet. "Sargonnas take both of you!"

  He whirled and pushed his way through the crowd to the blazing hearth at the back wall. There he stood, staring into the roaring flames, feeling their warmth rapidly baking through his leggings and tunic. In his own ale-numbed state, he did not mind when the heat became uncomfortable, almost scorching. Still Tanis stood there, one hand on the mantel, the other clenching and unclenching at his side.

  Back at the table, the kender looked at the half-elf and chirped, "Gee, he's really mad. Is he overly sensitive or something?"

  Startled by the kender's insight, and dismayed that he had not realized it first, Flint quickly brought himself under control again. Tanis had always been uncomfortable with his mixed heritage, but Flint knew that it was the memory of the rape of his mother that had truly up-Bet him. "I'll be right back," he muttered to Tas, redfaced.

  Swaying from the ale, the powerful dwarf shouldered his way across the tavern to where Tanis fumed. He stood silently alongside the furious half-elf for several moments, as they shared the warmth of the fire. Then he thrust his great hands into his tunic before clearing his throat.

  "Come back to the table, pup. We were out of line there, and, well, the kender's real sorry. Me, too."

  Tanis hesitated, then glared at Flint for a brief moment. "Tasslehoff didn't know, Flint, but I expected better from you."

  Flint coughed guiltily, and spat into the fire. "And you deserve it. Like I said, I'm real sorry about that. We've all had a few drinks. Come back to the table." Flint extended his hand, and after a few moments, the younger half-elf took it. Flint pressed it affectionately.

  The pair turned and shuffled back to where Tasslehoff waited. The trio sat silently for several long moments, everyone staring self-consciously into his beer mug— except Tasslehoff, of course, who was incapable of feeling self-conscious.

  "Now that I know something about Tanis, what about you, Flint?" the kender prompted. "Where did you learn to make such beautiful jewelry? You're quite good, and I should know. I've been all over Ansalon and seen a lot of things."

  Flint swelled under the praise. Like Tasslehoff with his maps, the dwarf was always willing to discuss his craft. "My kin have always been metalsmiths or warriors," he said. He told the kender about his youth in the hills near the dwarven fortress-city of Thorbardin and his decision to leave the hill dwarves of Hillhome and move to the human settlement of Solace so long ago. His pride was unmistakable when he spoke of his summons to the court of the Speaker of the Sun.

  "I would have to say that was where I honed my skills to their highest point, during my time in Qualinost," he said in conclusion. "Even the Speaker of the Sun said so. That's also where I met Tanis."

  "Is that where you made that splendid bracelet I saw today?" asked Tas. "The copper one with the gems that you weren't even willing to discuss selling?"

  Flint shook his head. "No, that's a very new item. It sure is a beautiful piece of work, though, isn't it?" As he spoke he reached into his pocket and drew out the bracelet. He turned it over and around in his hands, stroking the filigree and buffing the stones on his sleeve.

  Impulsively, Tasslehoff stretched across the table to look at the item more closely. But as his hand shot forward, Flint's beer mug crashed onto the table, gouging out a dent as large as a walnut. Only Tas's remarkable reflexes saved his hand from being smashed by the heavy crockery. Tas shoved his hands into the protective recesses of his pockets, looking profoundly hurt. "I only wanted to look at it."

  "May I?" asked Tanis. Flint eyed him suspiciously for just a moment, then sheepishly handed over the piece. "Sorry, Tanis," he muttered, "I forgot myself for a second."

  Tanis examined the bracelet minutely as the other two watched. When he spoke, he addressed Flint without taking his eyes from the jewelry.

  "This is exquisite, Flint," he admitted. "But why do such gorgeous work in copper? These stones look valuable—why mount them in such a relatively inexpensive metal?"

  Flint rocked back on the bench and said mysteriously, "That's the way she wanted it."

  "Somebody commissioned it?" asked Tas.

  Flint nodded, looking uncomfortable.

  "You didn't tell me about any commissioned piece," said Tanis. "Was it somebody local?"

  "I didn't tell you," confessed Flint, "because the whole thing happened so fast, and the woman was very strange and mysterious."

  "A strange woman?" Tasslehoff looked intrigued.

  Flint settled himself forward on the bench again and dropped his deep voice to a whisper. "One day last week this woman showed up and claimed she knew my work from the time Tanis and I spent in Qualinost.

  "Now, I took it from that that she was an elf, but she didn't look like any elf I ever met, not a healthy one, anyway. She was close to being the palest creature I ever saw—almost translucent as death itself—and all wrapped up in silk cloaks."

  "Maybe she was an undead creature, or a succubus, come to seduce you and drain your life away!" Tassle
hoff suggested eagerly.

  "She looked too nervous to be seducing anyone," Flint said.

  "A succubus would be nervous," reasoned Tas.

  "Tasslehoff, would you let him finish?" implored Tanis, silencing the kender's wild guessing.

  "Anyway," Flint continued, "she said she needed this bracelet, only it had to be made according to very strict instructions. I told her I could make anything, any way she wanted it. So she handed me a sheaf of papers and said, 'Make it this way, exactly.'

  "Well I've made things for folks who were obsessed with details before, but this was incredible. Every bit of that bracelet was designed and sketched out on those papers. And as if all that weren't enough, she handed me a sack full of copper ingots, gems, powders, and little jars of liquid that had to be mixed into the metal just so. She said, 'You'll find everything you need in this sack.' She even expressly asked me not to put my usual trademark on it."

  Flint leaned back. "Naturally, I was a bit put off by that. I thought to myself, 'Why does she want an original Flint Fireforge if she doesn't want the signature?'"

  Tanis was taken aback. "That is strange. I hope she paid you well for it."

  "That's just it," said Flint, a puzzled expression on his face. "The whole thing was so fishy that I quoted her what I thought was an outrageous fee. She paid it, plus half as much again, up front, without flinching! I couldn't turn it down!"

  Flint looked at the dregs of his ale, then pushed it away. "I followed those instructions to the letter, right down to burning them when I was finished. I kept the bracelet at my booth because she said she would come back to pick it up during the Spring Festival. I expect she'll be by any day now." At last the dwarf sat back on the bench again, satisfied that his story was finished.

  Tasslehoff stared intently at the bracelet, now lying on the table. "No wonder you were so touchy about it. Who do you suppose she is, and what's the bracelet for?"

  "I'm no clairvoyant," said Flint. "There's certainly something unusual about the bracelet, though, I'll grant you that. I'll just be happy to have it off my hands."

  Tanis nodded. "It's obviously very important to this woman, whoever she is." He stretched and looked at the dying embers in the hearth. The inn's common room had nearly emptied. A sleepy-eyed Otik glared at them from behind the bar. "Anyone care for a last round?"

  Following Tanis's example, Flint threw his arms back and stretched his face in a ferocious, jaw-breaking yawn. "No, I drank at least three too many already," he said, pushing himself away from the table. "Let's stagger home, Tanis, or I'll fall asleep here."

  "What about my maps?" asked Tasslehoff. "You've hardly looked at them."

  Tanis frowned, but his ale-fogged brain was unable to choose between going home and to bed, or staying to study the maps.

  Fortunately, Tasslehoff provided a solution for him. "I'm staying at the inn tonight. How about if I stop by Hint's stall tomorrow and you can look at them there?"

  Tanis was relieved to see that Flint had already shuffled toward the door and had not heard the suggestion. Tanis hastily accepted the idea, said his good-byes to the kender, and dashed after the drunken dwarf to keep him from falling off the bridgewalks.

  Left alone in the stillness and smoke of the common room, Tas made his way up the narrow stairway to the sleeping floor in the inn. It had been a long, tiring day.

  "I'll just rest a few minutes before I go to sleep," he mumbled to himself, collapsing onto the feather mattress in his small but tidy room. Though his eyes were closed, the bed spun dizzily. He was vaguely aware of something hard pressed against his breast in a most uncomfortable way. Propping himself up on his side, he fished his hand into his pocket and pulled out Flint's copper bracelet.

  "How in the world did that get in my pocket?" he mused. Viewing it through half-closed eyes, he harrumphed in amazement. "I must remember to return it."

  Unconsciously stuffing the bracelet back into his pocket, he rolled over and fell into the deep sleep of the innocent and inebriated.

  Chapter 3

  Inn and Out

  A tooth-rattling snore popped Flint's bloodshot eyes open in bewilderment. He lay on his back in his bed, wearing a single heavy leather boot and just one leg of his muddy breeches. Craning his head around, he saw the familiar cupboards and chairs of his home in the hollowed-out trunk of a vallenwood. How did I get here? he wondered.

  The last thing he remembered was sitting on one of Otik's comfortable benches at the Inn of the Last Home. It had been dark then. The muted light filtering through his parchment windows told him it was now daytime, and had been for some hours. Frowning, he sat up suddenly, then collapsed back onto the bed. His throbbing temples explained the lapse in his, memory. He'd really tied one on last night.

  Then he saw Tanis. Still fully clothed in breeches, boots, tunic, and wool vest, the half-elf lay face-down on the plank floor near the fireplace. A small puddle of drool spread from his splayed lips with each drawn and exhaled breath. The old dwarf chortled heartily, in spite of the pain it sent through his head.

  Startled, the younger half-elf woke, wiping spittle from his lips with the back of his hand. The ever-present feathered headband that held back his unruly, long russet hair had slipped down over his eyes, and he pushed it back to his forehead in annoyance. Spotting the amused dwarf, Tanis scowled. He rolled over slowly and sat up, cradling his head in his hands.

  "Otik's ale sure tasted smooth going down," he moaned.

  Nodding his head, more slowly this time, Flint pulled on the one pant leg that he'd managed to pull off before collapsing the night before. "Kicks like a mule the next morning, though," he said, adding "especially when you drink twice your weight of it!" He located his other boot under the bed and stuffed his foot into it, then straightened his fur-lined vest and tucked his rough-spun tunic back into his pants. "At least I managed to crawl into bed and get half my clothes off."

  Tanis jibed him right back. "That's because you're older and have more experience at this. Not to mention that your greater weight allows you to hold more ale . . ." he finished, eyeing Flint's round girth.

  "Have some respect for your elders, pup!" Flint growled, cuffing Tanis's dark-haired head. He walked to the larder, across from the fireplace in the hollowed-out base of the giant vallenwood. "I've got two pickled eggs, three strips of jerky, and a slightly moldy sole of bread." He took a large carving knife and deftly trimmed the green fuzz from the bread. "There, that looks fine." He looked at Tanis. "What'll it be?"

  Tanis's fine-boned elven nose wrinkled in distaste. "Some of Otik's spiced potatoes, if he's serving yet." He stood and pushed back one of the parchment windows flanking the heavy wooden front door. "What time do you suppose it is?"

  Frowning, Flint peered out the open window. "Good gods, it's late, from the looks of the deserted streets. Everyone's working the festival already." He hastily scooped the eggs and jerky into a square cloth and tied up the corners. "My customer could be coming to the booth any time for her bracelet." With more than a little pride, he patted the pocket inside his vest. His face froze. He patted it again. This time his face contorted into a mixture of horror, disbelief, and fury. "It's gone!" he shrieked.

  Still at the window, Tanis winced at the noise and looked over his shoulder at his friend. "What's gone?"

  "The bracelet, of course!" he shouted. Panic clawed at his stomach. "I put it in the inside pocket of my vest and it's not there! I know I put it in my vest!"

  Tanis strode over to the disheveled bed and began poking through the covers. "It probably fell out of your pocket while you slept."

  Flint's face brightened with hope. "I bet you're right!" He helped Tanis strip the bed, but they found nothing. Flint flapped the sheets, then flapped them harder, and finally clawed his way through them like an animal. Then he turned back to the bed and poked his nose into every cranny of the mattress and the frame. Finally he dropped to his knees and glared under it, peering into every dust ball and pushing aside old shoe
s. But he came up empty-handed. Flint felt panic rising past his stomach, reaching up to his throat, threatening to strangle him unless he controlled it.

  "When do you last remember seeing it?" Tanis asked calmly.

  Flint exploded. "I don't know!" He flailed his arms uselessly and paced between the bed and the hearth. "I don't remember much at all from last night." He tugged at the corners of his mustache until Tanis thought he would pull it right off.

  "That's it!" Tanis said, snapping his fingers. "Last night at the Inn—you showed it to us while you talked about it. You probably just forgot it on the table. I'll bet Otik found it and is wondering right this minute who it belongs to." Tanis looked pleased with himself. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go get your bracelet and a couple plates of potatoes for breakfast!"

  Flint looked marginally calmer as he followed Tanis's slender form out the door. "I hope you're right. . . ." he said, his voice trailing off with doubt as he glanced back over his shoulder. "I've had a strange feeling about that bracelet from the moment I read those instructions." He shuddered, remembering. "There's something very odd about someone being willing to pay that much for a copper bracelet."

  Knowing his friend's superstitious nature, Tanis felt compelled to ask, "Then why did you agree to make it?"

  Flint's ample cheeks grew crimson under his salt-and-pepper beard. "I'll admit, at first I fell for her flattery. She said she'd heard I was the greatest metalsmith around." Suddenly, he frowned and scratched his graying head above the right ear. "Given her praise, I was surprised to see how simple it was in design—nowhere near as difficult as my usual work, and that's my professional opinion, not just ego." He shrugged. "Anyway, it was a long, cold winter, and I couldn't pass up the money."

  Tanis stretched in the sunshine as Flint pulled shut the heavy, ornately carved door. He fished a heavy key from his pocket, jammed it in the brass lock, and gave it a twist. The bolt shot home with a satisfying thunk. Tanis looked back with raised eyebrows. "Why'd you do that? You never lock your house."