"I thought you said the markesi-"
"Merchesti," Halmarain corrected Trap.
"I thought the merchesti could open the portal," he finished.
"If Orander is still alive and had both stones, he could open it. If he's not still alive-and I'm afraid he's not- then it could take the fiend years to learn how to reach our world. This monster would be growing up on Krynn."-she pointed at Beglug who sat on the floor- "The longer it stays here, the larger and more dangerous it will become. If we can't send it home before long we'll have to kill it."
"No!" Ripple objected. The merchesti was sitting at the foot of her stool. He occasionally leaned his head against her leg as if seeking the touch of another creature for reassurance.
"Stop saying that! He's not evil! You're just mean!" Trap argued. "He hasn't done anything but eat and sleep."
Across the table, Grod's eyes grew wide again.
"It will show its foul nature as it grows," the little wizard passed off the arguments as if they didn't exist. She paused and referred to the book. "But the portal won't open here. According to Alchviem, to open and then close a portal by the use of the gate stones thickens the fabric between planes. The thickening sounds as if it's some-thing like scar tissue over a healed wound."
"I know what that is, I have a scar," Ripple pushed back her sleeve to show a blemish on her arm. "One day when Soso Stepup and I were-"
"I must find a wizard powerful enough to help Orander open the portal," Halmarain said, interrupting Ripple's story. "Maybe we can rescue Orander if he's still alive."
"And Beglug can go home," Trap said. "He doesn't seem to like wandering." The kender shook his head. "I'd think he would like to see new places, but he keeps moaning. Of course maybe he just has a belly ache from all that strange stuff he keeps eating…"
Ripple frowned. "But if you have to go far to find a wizard, how do we know Beglug's mother will find him when we send him back?"
"I don't know," Halmarain snapped. "I don't know what else to do. Alchviem says no one can open the portal from here a second time, so we know staying here won't help."
"Who is Alchviem?" Trap asked. Halmarain had never explained him. "Is he a wizard? Will he do magic for us?"
"He was a wizard who lived a thousand years before the Cataclysm," Halmarain said with a patience they had not yet experienced from her. "He took the red robes, and devoted his life to learning about the portals. He learned more about traveling the planes than anyone has before or since. Orander found his writings and discovered how to obtain the gate stones. When I tell you anything I read in these books,"-she tapped the one she held-"you can be certain there is no better information on Krynn."
"Information? That means learning new things. I like information," Trap said, thinking magic facts might be both interesting and good to know.
Beglug had been wandering around the kitchen, his head down as he inspected the floor, possibly looking for more glass shards. He bumped into Halmarain's stool and jumped back, snarling, claws bristling as he eyed the little wizard.
. "Get him away from me," Halmarain cried and made shooing motions at the merchesti.
"I'll get him," Ripple said. She jumped down and took the little fiend by the arm. He was willing enough to sit on the floor by her stool. "He was just scared, he didn't attack you or anything."
"Read us some out of that book," Trap suggested.
"This isn't a story book," the wizard said, slapping it closed with her two small hands.
"And you didn't make much of a story about Alchviem," Ripple observed as she shifted on her stool. "I don't like it here anymore and I want to leave." Her lowered brows were storm warning signs, though the little wizard didn't know it.
"I don't think you understood what I said," Halmarain frowned at the kender.
"Of course we know what you said," Trap was quick to come to the defense of his sister. "Opening the portal made a scar. Remember the scar on Marchon Bolo's hand, Ripple?"
"How did he get that?" Ripple asked. "I forgot."
"Trying to open a chest that belonged to-"
"Forget Marchon Bolo!" Halmarain ordered. "We have a problem. We must take the little fiend to a wizard powerful enough to-"
"-Bagbus Jumpdown!" Trap triumphantly finished his sentence.
"You're not listening to me!" Halmarain shouted in anger. Her habitual irritation suddenly made Ripple angry.
"Wizard's gizzard, loud and yelling," she snapped.
Trap grinned at his sister. He knew the game.
"Cannot listen, always telling," he added
"Stomps and shouts and gives orders," Ripple continued while Halmarain glared, her flush of anger deepening.
"Makes big noise too," Grod added, inexpertly capping without a rhyme.
Both kender laughed and Grod joined in with clapping hands, then Trap gazed at Halmarain.
"We did hear you," he said.
"You want to take Beglug to another wizard who might open a portal and send him home," Ripple said. "I think sending him back is a good idea if he doesn't like to wander, though I don't understand why he wouldn't like to see new places, but then I remember hearing of a kender who didn't like to wander either, still, I think Trap might be right and he might have a belly ache, but it seems to me that if you can open and read the books, you should be able to take the stone and open the portal and then-"
"Isn't a portal like a door?" Trap asked, interrupting his sister with a new idea. "I can open doors, all sorts of doors, even when they're locked like the one out in the passage-"
"Stop all this chatter!" Halmarain demanded. "I need the help of a master wizard. Salrandin, who lives just south of Palanthus would be the best, I think. But master wizards don't just come when summoned, so I must take the merchesti and the gate stone to him. We either do this or we kill the little fiend before he becomes large enough to be a danger."
"You can't do that!" Ripple bristled. "He hasn't done anything!"
"And I have to take Alchviem's books and open them for the other wizard." The little wizard stared at the kender who still appeared to be unconvinced. She sighed and explained. "As wizard's go, I'm not exactly on the top rung of the ladder. I'm just learning my art. The first spell I learned was one of reading magic, but that only allows me to read it. I can't use the more powerful spells… not yet."
"You can make more salt men," Trap suggested hope-fully.
Halmarain continued as if he had not spoken. "I know the command to open the books; I can read them, but it would take a wizard with far more power to use what I can read. If and when we find one, even he may not have the knowledge of Alchviem, so we need to take the books with us."
"You've stopped saying 'I' and you've started saying 'we,' " Ripple pointed out. "Are you inviting us to come with you?"
"I've just realized I can't do it alone," Halmarain said with a sigh. "It will even be dangerous to take that monster through the city, There's nothing like the merchesti on Krynn. Some idiot will realize it's an abomination and try to kill it. People often try to destroy what they don't understand."
"You could disguise him," Ripple said.
"That's a good idea," Halmarain said, nodding, thinking out loud. "We'll do that, but the journey will still be too hard and too long. I don't want to try to make it alone. The easiest way to reach Palanthus would be to travel west to Gwyntaar and take a ship from there… but the crew would soon see through Beglug's disguise. We'll need to travel overland, by horseback, ponies, I think."
"I love riding," Trap announced.
"I hope so," Halmarain said. "I can't saddle a pony, and even if I could, I could never get that monster onto a saddle. That's why you must go with me."
"We stay," Umpth announced. "New This Place now."
"Plenty good food." Grod added. "All stay This Place." The kender now understood that the gully dwarf was using his race's term for home. "Last This Place knocked flat."
"You're right. This would make a good place to live," Ripple said brightly. "That is, if you want to stay here, but think of all the things you'll miss seeing, and now that I think of it you can't stay here, because you couldn't get out to get more food, and I don't think starving would be interesting at all, but maybe Beglug could teach you how to eat wood and rocks… wonder how they taste?"
The gully dwarves traded speculating glances, scratched different parts of their bodies, and appeared to come to some sort of agreement.
"We go with them," Umpth told Grod.
"Find new This Place." Grod agreed
"I won't travel with gully dwarves," Halmarain snapped.
"Gee, I don't see why not," Trap said, staring across at Umpth and Grod. "I think they're nice, and they did help clean up the laboratory, and even if they do eat a lot-"
"You're just being mean. You know you like them, or you wouldn't have asked-did you ask them to help clean up after Orander fell through the portal? I forgot. Anyway, since we promised to help find them a new home after their old one was knocked down, we have to stay with them."
"You must go with me. I need you to take care of the merchesti. Even if I could watch him day and night, that monster doesn't like me. And I need you to look after it while I study my spells." She met Trap's eyes in the manner of a person squarely meeting an unpleasant subject. "I can't make the journey and look after it alone, so if you don't go with me I'll have to kill it before I leave."
"No!" Trap was outraged.
"If its dead, I can travel with a caravan, the way I did when I came south."
"Oh, Trap, we'll have to go or she'll kill Beglug!" Ripple cried.
"We'll go with you, if you promise not to hurt Beglug," Trap said. "Actually, we'd like to see Palanthus. Would we see other interesting places?"
"We'll stay away from cities," the wizard said. "We'll stay away from as many people as we can."
"Thorns and thistles, that sounds boring," Trap announced.
Halmarain took a deep breath, puffing herself up like a frog. Then her look turned cagey. She folded her little hands and stared up at the ceiling.
"Then I suppose you don't want any magic."
"Magic?" Ripple was instantly diverted.
"Aglest clan got magic," Umpth announced, but neither the kender nor the wizard paid any attention to him.
"If you help me get Orander back from the other plane, he will reward you with all sorts of magic," Halmarain replied.
"What kind of magic?" Trap asked. "Will he teach us spells?"
"No, you wouldn't like that," Halmarain said. "You'd have to study magic and you'd find that boring. He might take something… like he took my staff and put magic into it."
"Show us! What will it do besides make light?" Ripple asked.
"Well, I don't like to clean the scullery," Halmarain said. "And it takes too much time, so Orander gave the staff some special magic that I haven't learned." She spoke a word of command. In an instant the cups, spoons, trenchers and pots were clean and they lifted off the table, sailing to their appropriate storage areas. With a clatter and clang, the pots hung themselves back on their hooks, the trenchers stacked themselves on the shelves and the spoons dipped, handles down, to stand in a crockery pot.
"Wow! Big jiggies!" Ripple jumped up from her stool and ran over to look at the clean pots. "If I make more pudding will you do that again?"
"Orander will think up something far more interesting for you if you help to return him to Krynn," the little wizard said as Ripple returned to her stool. She sat staring at Halmarain with sparkling eyes.
"Then I'll go," Trap said. "I want a-"
Ripple gave a yelp and threw herself halfway across the table as her stool collapsed. Beneath her swinging feet, Beglug chewed on one leg of her stool.
"Kender want," Grod prompted, reminding Trap he was about to make a request.
"I forget," Trap said, sliding off the stool to assist his sister. He took the remains of her former seat and used it to coax Beglug to the hearth. Then he pushed another stool under his sister.
"We'll have to disguise the merchesti," Halmarain said. "If we're going to send it home, we don't want it to attract too much interest here on Krynn."
"We won't let anyone kill him," Trap assured her.
"Maybe he'll catch the eye of someone who wouldn't want to kill him," Halmarain suggested slyly. "They might want to steal him, put a chain around his neck and pull him from town to town. Somebody could make a lot of money by exhibiting him to the curious."
"That would be cruel," Trap was shocked at the idea.
"If we're not careful, he will attract attention," the little wizard repeated her warning.
"So will a wizard," Ripple said with a grin.
"If the citizens learn I'm a wizard I'll be in more danger than the fiend," Halmarain said. "And my size-well- some consider me a freak." Her eyes darkened over some memory. "Children like to throw stones at what they don't understand…" Her voice trailed off in sadness.
"But that's not fair," Trap said. "We'd never throw anything at you, we like you, except when you're mad, but I don't think-"
"I know, we can all go as animals," Ripple announced.
"Wow! Great! I want to be a bird," Trap said, falling in with his sister's idea. "Halmarain can put a spell on me so I can fly. That would be fun."
"We could all fly," Ripple agreed. She held out her arms and flapped them. The gully dwarves looked doubtful, but they mimicked the female kender.
"No, I can't do flying spells," Halmarain said.
The kenders' hopes were dashed for only a moment before Trap's natural enthusiasm rose again.
"I know! We could be horses!"
"Then we could travel very fast," Ripple urged. "Could you make us horses?"
"No, and I can't make you wolves either, so don't suggest it. We use clothing, I suppose. Dwarves. Beglug and I are a little small, but we might pass as Neidar."
"We could all be dwarves," Trap said. "Umpth and Grod are going with us. We could be gully dwarves."
Halmarain stared at the kender as if they had lost their minds. "I won't do it," she announced. "Nothing would make me pretend to be a gully dwarf!"
Trap glanced uneasily at Umpth and Grod, but they had filled their stomachs and pushed their dishes aside. They sat, elbows on the table, chins propped in the palms of their hands. They were watching the kender and the wizard with an air of impersonal interest as if they had no idea they were the subjects under discussion. They turned their heads to speak to each other and proved they had heard every word.
"Maybe clan grow," Umpth said. "Beglug make good Aghar."
"More good than wizard," Grod agreed. "She too short."
"Got no clan magic," Umpth added. "Not much use."
"Kender got no clan magic," Grod said. "Much trouble. Only Aghar have good magic."
"Thank you very much, but I can handle myself," Halmarain bristled. "And I don't appreciate being talked about as if I wasn't here. It would be bad enough to pretend to be a Neidar, but an Aghar, no." Halmarain shook her head.
"Yes, you can do that," Ripple said. "That would be fun. You pretend to be Neidar… you, Beglug, Umpth and Grod. What could we be?" She gazed questioningly at her brother.
"Eagles? Unicorns?" he asked hopefully. He sighed as Halmarain shook her head. "How can the gulleys be Neidar?" he asked. "How will you keep them clean?"
"Not even my magic could handle that," Halmarain scoffed. "I'll need all my art to handle that thing." she pointed at Beglug.
"Wizard like no's," Umpth observed to his brother. "Have no yes's," Grod agreed.
"I can say yes as quickly as any other if someone suggests a workable solution," Halmarain snapped. "I refuse to look like a fool or a gully dwarf."
"I won't go if you won't stop being mean!" Ripple crossed her arms and pursed her mouth as she stared at the little wizard with tightened lips.
"See a fight," Umpth told Grod, wriggling in anticipation.
"Females fight good," Grod nodded.
"There will be no fight," Halmarain said with a sigh. "You're right, Ripple, I'm letting my concern for Orander override good sense. I'll do whatever it takes to get my master back through the portal. I really don't think I can travel as a gully dwarf, but if we can disguise them as Neidar, I'll try it. They'll need new clothing, and they'll have to bathe."
The decision made, they settled to planning the journey to Palanthus. Once the tiny wizard had decided to cooperate, she started to work. By a water clock in the passage, they knew the evening was well advanced. The shops would be closed, so they set to work doing what they could.
Halmarain decreed the Aghar had to be bathed and scrubbed until years of grime had been removed. Along with the gully dwarves and kender, she struggled with pails of water and armloads of wood as they filled a caldron and heated it. The gully dwarves became increasingly uneasy as the water heated, fearing the wizard would put them in the boiling caldron. They were only a little relieved when the water reached a temperature a bit beyond the best degree for soaking off the dirt and Trap raked away the fire. When the bottom was cool enough not to burn their feet and bottoms, Halmarain gave them a choice: they could climb in and bathe or she would turn them into frogs and throw them in.
"Frogs must wash?" Umpth said, considering the second option.
"Frogs stay in water," Grod said with a shudder and then turned his attention on the wizard. "Can no make fly, can no make horses. How make frogs?"
Umpth was sitting on the floor. He had removed one boot but he stopped and gazed at his brother as if he doubted such profound logic could come out of Grod. Umpth slowly nodded and put his boot on again.
"I can't make six people into horses but I can turn two gully dwarves into something, and that will be you, and you will be frogs. Now get in that tub!"
Umpth nodded and stripped off his clothing. Ripple and Halmarain turned their backs until the dwarves were in the caldron. Then, to the surprise and delight of the kender, Halmarain touched the dwarves' filthy, ragged clothing with her staff and spoke a word of command. In an instant the garments were clean, the original color restored and all the tears mended. The spell only restored the clothing, it did nothing for the length of the sleeves and the trousers that had been made for humans.
"Oh! Hey! That's good magic!" Ripple clapped her hands.
"I took care of their clothes, you take care of them," the little wizard said. She left Trap to scrub the gully dwarves while she and Ripple returned to Orander's work room.
Trap decided he had the worst of the deal as he tried to keep the gully dwarves sitting in the large caldron of hot water. He argued them into rubbing soap in their hair and beards. He used a brush to scrub at their necks and backs. He insisted they clean the rest of their bodies. They knew nothing about closing their eyes to keep the soap out. Their howls echoed through the scullery and down the passage.
Drawn by the excitement, Beglug came over to watch the splashing. The little fiend thought the bath looked like fun and he hopped into the caldron too. At first he contented himself with trying to bite the bubbles. Then he ate the soap.
"Drink all water too," Umpth encouraged Beglug.
Fortunately, the gully dwarves were as clean as they would get with one soaking. To remove all the embedded grime would take daily soaks for weeks. Still, one cleansing had made a tremendous difference. Umpth did have brown hair that flowed into a brown beard. They matched in a depth of color that was almost black. After a thorough cleaning, his cheeks, nose, and part of his forehead was pink, but the grime in his wrinkles gave the appearance of dark lines drawn on his face.
Grod, without wrinkles, had a reddish complexion that almost blended with a reddish blond beard and hair. His eyes were a startling bright blue.
While the gully dwarves and Beglug slept, Trap, Ripple, and Halmarain talked over their plans again and added details. They had decided the shopping trip to outfit the expedition would be made by Halmarain, who could negate the spells on the doors; with her would go Trap and Grod. One of the gully dwarves had to go to be sure the clothing and dwarf armor fitted. Halmarain fashioned herself a tunic and skirt that would allow her to pass as a dwarf.
"It will work," Ripple said and with a sudden leap, did a back flip.
Early the next morning, the three shoppers walked the long, confusing route through secret underground passages that Orander had cleared for his own use. They came out on a street nearly half a mile west of Market Square. Since Halmarain had spent most of her time far below the city, she knew little about Lytburg. Grod had to be forcibly pushed past trash heaps in the ally before he was convinced to lead them to a narrow, noisy, but clean street that served as the dwarven section of town. Their first purchases were clothing, two sets for Halmarain and Beglug, and an extra for each of the gully dwarves.
To explain their numerous purchases, they told a tale of having been robbed of everything but the clothing they wore and a hidden purse. The story seemed to allay the suspicions of the shop keepers who were glad to make large sales. At the boot makers, Halmarain purchased new boots for the Aghar, a pair for Beglug, and attempted to find something that would fit her small feet. She had to settle for the smallest pair and stuff them with rags.
Dwarves never traveled without weapons and armor so they visited another shop. Trap lost count of the steel pieces they were spending. He was doling out the money because, for some reason he could not explain, he always seemed to have Orander's purse. Halmarain finally told him to keep it. At least she would know where it was.
Under the little wizard's suspicious scrutiny, he had been systematically emptying the bag, but though it was nearly flat when he returned it to his pouch in the second shop, when he took it out to pay for their third bundle of purchases, it was heavy with steel pieces again. He decided it was a magic bag, refilling itself automatically.
When they left the armorer's shop, Grod and Halmarain were dressed in chain mail under dwarven tunics and wore metal helms. Halmarain clumped along in her heavy boots as if she were slogging through thick mud. She could no longer help to carry their purchases since she could barely walk in her armor. All this seemed to add to her bad mood.
Their weapons-axes-would be useless in the hands of the wizard and the Aghar, but they were needed to complete the disguises. Trap struggled under the weight of a heavy canvas bag that held armor and weapons for Beglug and Umpth. Grod was loaded down with bedrolls, clothing, and boots.
They left the purchase of food and other traveling needs for later, since they had so much to carry. Before they returned to the underground caverns, Halmarain wanted to visit an inn, one where adventurers and travelers gathered when they first entered Lytburg.
"And you two, behave," she warned. "You sit with your mouth shut while you're eating, Grod. And Trap, keep your hands to yourself and listen. We want to hear any news about roads, traveling conditions, goblins, ogres, or any other humanoids on the move."
Trap and Grod were agreeable. Grod was hungry and the kender loved to hear any sort of story, no matter if it was only a few words about the travel of goblins. The gully dwarves were familiar with the shops and inns, though they knew them from their trash heaps. Grod led them to an establishment where, he insisted, adventurers and mercenaries often gathered. In addition, judging by the tastiness of what they threw out, Grod said their food was good.
They entered the inn, the Leaping Hart, and took seats at a small table in the corner. A hearth at the rear boasted a roaring fire with a pig roasting over the flames. The day had turned warm, so the inn was stifling. It did not seem to bother the more than twenty rangy, hard-eyed drinkers who were swilling ale and passing stories. Most had weapons and helmets lying beside them. Some had removed pieces of armor and their chain mail.
Halmarain had instructed Trap to order enough food and ale to keep Grod quiet and had told him to watch the gully dwarf's table manners while she listened.
Halmarain suggested they order rib meat, chicken, and rolls for the gully dwarf. Everyone ate bony meat and bread with their fingers, so Grod's lack of manners would not be too noticeable. Trap kept ordering food and ale, cautioning the dwarf to be as quiet as possible while he ate. Halmarain sat a little apart from them, her eyes on her mug as she listened in on the conversations at the other tables. Trap could hear practically nothing over Grod's slurping and smacking.
Bored, the kender fingered the table, his mug and the seat, the only items available for handling. He finally became interested in tracing the raised grain on the well scrubbed table. He forgot to keep his hat on in order to hide his ears and top knot. He took it off to fan himself. He was soon noticed by a tall, rangy human who frowned and pointed at Trap.
"Hey, innkeeper, I didn't think you allowed kender in here!"
Every eye turned toward Trap. The innkeeper had served them twice with food and three times with ale. He knew Trap had paid promptly, but he slammed his tray of empty mugs on a table and glared at the three in the corner.
"Out, you! I'll have no kender stealing from my patrons."
"He is not stealing," Halmarain spoke up, dropping her highly pitched voice in an attempt to sound like a dwarf. "And he paid you in full! He travels with us, and we'll vouch for him."
"And who will vouch for you?" The innkeeper demanded. "If you travel with a kender-"
"Wait," a burly man on the other side of the room interrupted, rising to glare at the three in the corner. "Ask him his name."
"Trapspringer Fargo," Trap said clearly and at once. "I'm very glad to meet-"
"Wasn't that the name of that outlaw kender traveling with Alchar Groomb's band?" someone yelled. "Trap-springer, or something like that?" Several others nodded.
"It's a common name among kender," Halmarain spoke up quickly. "Half the kender in Hylo are named Trap-springer."
Trap turned toward her, already shaking his head. She must have misunderstood the name. As far as he knew he was the only Trapspringer in Hylo. Before he could object, movement among the patrons caught his attention.
They rose from their seats and started forward, their hunger for revenge clear in their eyes.