Time of the Twins

“She is fine and sends her love,” Riverwind answered in his deep, low baritone. “My son”—his eyes glowed with pride—“is but two, yet already stands this tall and sits a horse better than most warriors.”

“I was hoping Goldmoon would come with you,” Tika said with a sigh she didn’t mean Riverwind to hear. The tall Plainsman ate his food for a moment in silence before he answered.

“The gods have blessed us with two more children,” he said, staring at Tika with a strange expression in his dark eyes.

“Two?” Tika looked puzzled, then, “oh, twins!” she cried joyfully. “Like Caramon and Rais—” She stopped abruptly, biting her lip.

Riverwind frowned and made the sign that wards off evil. Tika flushed and looked away. There was a roaring in her ears. The heat and the noise made her dizzy. Swallowing the bitter taste in her mouth, she forced herself to ask more about Goldmoon and, after awhile, could even listen to Riverwind’s answer.

“... still too few clerics in our land. There are many converts, but the powers of the gods come slowly. She works hard, too hard to my mind, but she grows more beautiful every day. And the babies, our daughters, both have silver-golden hair—”

Babies... Tika smiled sadly. Seeing her face, Riverwind fell silent, finished eating, and pushed his plate away. “I can think of nothing I would rather do than continue this visit,” he said slowly, “but I cannot be gone long from my people. You know the urgency of my mission. Where is Cara—”

“I must go check on your room,” Tika said, standing up so quickly she jostled the table, spilling Riverwind’s drink. “That gully dwarf is supposed to be making the bed. I’ll probably find him sound asleep—”

She hurried away. But she did not go upstairs to the rooms. Standing outside by the kitchen door, feeling the night wind cool her fevered cheeks, she stared out into the darkness. “Let him go away!” she whispered. “Please...”

2

Perhaps most of all, Tanis feared his first sight of the Inn of the Last Home. Here it had all started, three years ago this autumn. Here he and Flint and the irrepressible kender, Tasslehoff Burrfoot, had come that night to meet old friends. Here his world had turned upside down, never to exactly right itself again.

But, riding toward the Inn, Tanis found his fears eased. It had changed so much it was like coming to some place strange, a place that held no memories. It stood on the ground, instead of in the branches of a great vallenwood. There were new additions, more rooms had been built to accommodate the influx of travelers, it had a new roof, much more modern in design. All the scars of war had been purged, along with the memories.

Then, just as Tanis was beginning to relax, the front door of the Inn opened. Light streamed out, forming a golden path of’ welcome, the smell of spiced potatoes and the sound of laughter came to him on the evening breeze. The memories returned in a rush, and Tanis bowed his head, overcome.

But, perhaps fortunately, he did not have time to dwell upon the past. As he and his companion approached the Inn, a stableboy ran out to grab the horses’ reins.

“Food and water,” said Tanis, sliding wearily from the saddle and tossing the boy a coin. He stretched to ease the cramps in his muscles. “I sent word ahead that I was to have a fresh horse waiting for me here. My name is Tanis Half-Elven.”

The boy’s eyes opened wide; he had already been staring at the bright armor and rich cloak Tanis wore. Now his curiosity was replaced by awe and admiration.

“Y-yes, sir,” he stammered, abashed at being addressed by such a great hero. “T-the horse is ready, sh-shall I bring him around n-now, sir?”

“No.” Tanis smiled. “I will eat first. Bring him in two hours.”

“T-two hours. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Bobbing his head, the boy took the reins Tanis pressed into his unfeeling hand, then stood there, gaping, completely forgetting his task until the impatient horse nudged him, nearly knocking him over.

As the boy hurried off, leading Tanis’s horse away, the half-elf turned to assist his companion down from her saddle.

“You must be made of iron,” she said, looking at Tanis as he helped her to the ground. “Do you really intend to ride further tonight?”

“To tell the truth, every bone in my body aches,” Tanis began, then paused, feeling uncomfortable. He was simply unable to feel at ease around this woman.

Tanis could see her face reflected in the light beaming from the Inn. He saw fatigue and pain. Her eyes were sunken into pale, hollow cheeks. She staggered as she stepped upon the ground, and Tanis was quick to give her his arm to lean upon. This she did, but only for a moment. Then, drawing herself up, she gently but firmly pushed him away and stood alone, glancing at her surroundings without interest.