Time of the Twins

“Tas, come out! This is no time for games!” Caramon ordered sternly. Tasslehoff had nearly frightened him out of six years’ growth one day by hiding under the bed, then leaping out when Caramon’s back was turned. Lighting a torch, the big man got down, grumbling, on his hands and knees and flashed the light under the bed. No Tas.

“I hope the little fool didn’t try to go out in this storm!” Caramon said to himself, his irritation changing to sudden concern. “He’d get blown back to Solace. Or maybe he’s in the mess hall, waiting for me. Maybe he’s with Kiiri and Pheragas. That’s it! I’ll just grab the device, then join him—”

Talking to himself, Caramon went over to the small, wooden chest where he kept his armor. Opening it, he took out the fancy, gold costume. Giving it a scornful glance, he tossed the pieces on the floor. “At least I won’t have to wear that get-up again,” he said thankfully. “Though”—he grinned somewhat shamefacedly—“it’d be fun to see Tika’s reaction when I put that on! Wouldn’t she laugh? But I’ll bet she’d like it, just the same.” Whistling cheerfully, Caramon quickly took everything out of the chest and, using the edge of one of the collapsible daggers, carefully prized up the false bottom he had built into it.

The whistle died on his lips.

The chest was empty.

Frantically, Caramon felt all over the inside of the chest, though it was quite obvious that a pendant as large as the magical device wouldn’t have been likely to slip through a crack. His heart beating wildly with fear, Caramon scrambled to his feet and began to search the room, flashing the torchlight into every corner, peering once more under the beds. He even ripped up his straw mattress and was starting to work on Tas’s when he suddenly noticed something.

Not only was the kender gone, but so were his pouches, all his beloved possessions. And so was his cloak.

And then Caramon knew. Tas had taken the device.

But why?... Caramon felt for a moment as if lightning had struck him, the sudden understanding sizzling his way from his brain to his body with a shock that paralyzed him.

Tas had seen Raistlin—he had told Caramon about that. But what had Tas been doing there? Why had he gone to see Raistlin? Caramon suddenly realized that the kender had skillfully steered the conversation away from that point.

Caramon groaned. The curious kender had, of course, questioned him about the device, but Tas had always seemed satisfied with Caramon’s answers. Certainly, he had never bothered it. Caramon checked, occasionally, to make sure it was still there—one did that as a matter of habit when living with a kender. But, if Tas had been curious enough about it, he would have taken it to Raistlin... He did that often in the old days, when he found something magical.

Or maybe Raistlin tricked Tas into bringing it to him! Once he had the device, Raistlin could force them to go with him. Had he been plotting this all along? Had he tricked Tas and deceived Crysania? Caramon’s mind stumbled about his head in confusion. Or maybe—

“Tas!” Caramon cried, suddenly latching onto firm, positive action. “I have to find Tas! I have to stop him!”

Feverishly, the big man grabbed up his soaking wet cloak. He was barreling out the door when a huge dark shadow blocked his path.

“Out of my way, Raag,” Caramon growled, completely forgetting, in his anxiety, where he was.

Raag reminded him instantly, his giant hand closing over Caramon’s huge shoulder. “Where go, slave?”

Caramon tried to shake off the ogre’s grip, but Raag’s hand simply tightened its grip. There was a crunching sound, and Caramon gasped in pain.

“Don’t hurt him, Raag,” came a voice from somewhere around Caramon’s kneecaps. “He’s got to fight tomorrow. What’s more, he’s got to win!”

Raag pushed Caramon back into the cell with as little effort as a grown man playfully tosses a child. The big warrior stumbled backward, falling heavily on the stone floor.

“You sure are busy today,” Arack said conversationally, entering the cell and plopping down on the bed.

Sitting up, Caramon rubbed his bruised shoulder. He cast a quick glance at Raag, who was still standing, blocking the door. Arack continued.

“You’ve already been out once in this foul weather, and now you’re heading out again?” The dwarf shook his head. “No, no. I can’t allow it. You might catch cold...”

“Hey,” Caramon said, grinning weakly and licking his dry lips. “I was just going to the mess hall to find Tas—” He cringed involuntarily as a bolt of lightning exploded outside. There was a cracking sound and a sudden odor of burning wood.

“Forget it. The kender left,” Arack said, shrugging, “and it looked to me like he left for good—had his stuff all packed.”

Caramon swallowed, clearing his throat. “Let me go find him then—” he began.