Time of the Twins

“How will it stop it?” Tas interrupted eagerly. “Will I see it shoot a ray of light up to heaven or something? Will it knock the Kingpriest flat?”

“No,” Raistlin answered, coughing softly, “it will not—um—knock the Kingpriest flat. But you are right about the light.”

“I am?” Tas’s mouth gaped open. “I just guessed! That’s fantastic! I must be getting good at this magic stuff.”

“Yes,” Raistlin replied dryly, “now, to continue before I was interrupted—”

“Sorry, it won’t happen again,” Tas apologized, then shut his mouth as Raistlin glared at him.

“You must sneak into the Sacred Chamber during the night. The area behind the altar is lined with curtains. Hide there and you will not be discovered.”

“Then I’ll stop the Cataclysm, go back to Caramon, and tell him all about it 1 I’ll be a hero—” Tas stopped, a sudden thought crossing his mind. “But, how can I be a hero if I stop something that never started? I mean, how will they know I did anything if I didn’t—”

“Oh, they’ll know...” said Raistlin softly.

“They will? But I still don’t see—Oh, you’re busy, I guess. I suppose I should go? All right. Say, well, you’re leaving after this is all over,” Tas said, being rather firmly propelled toward the door by Raistlin’s hand on his shoulder. “Where are you going?”

“Where I choose,” said Raistlin;

“Could I come with you?” Tas asked eagerly.

“No, you’ll be needed back in your own time,” Raistlin answered, staring at the kender very strangely—or so Tas thought at the time. “To look after Caramon...”

“Yes, I guess you’re right.” The kender sighed. “He does take a lot of looking after.” They reached the door. Tas regarded it for a moment, then looked up wistfully at Raistlin. “I don’t suppose you could... sort of swoosh me somewhere, like you did the last time? It’s great fun...”

Checking a sigh, Raistlin obligingly “swooshed” the kender into a duck pond, to Tas’s vast amusement. The kender couldn’t recall, in fact, when Raistlin had been so nice to him.

It must be because of my ending the Cataclysm, Tas decided. He’s probably really grateful, just doesn’t know how to express it properly. Or maybe he’s not allowed to be grateful since he’s evil.

That was an interesting thought and one Tas considered as he waded out of the pond and went, dripping, back to the arena.

Tas recalled it again as he left the arena the night before the Cataclysm that wasn’t going to happen, but his thoughts about Raistlin were rudely interrupted. He hadn’t realized quite how bad the storm had grown and was somewhat amazed at the ferocity of the wind that literally picked him up and slammed him back against the stone wall of the arena when he first darted outside. After pausing a moment to recover his breath and check to see if anything was broken, the kender picked himself up and started off toward the Temple again, the magical device firmly in hand.

This time, he had presence of mind enough to hug the buildings, finding that the wind didn’t buffet him so there. Walking through the storm proved to be rather an exhilarating experience, in fact. Once lightning struck a tree next to him, smashing it to smithereens. (He had often wondered, what exactly was a smithereen?) Another time he misjudged the depth of the water running in the street and found himself being washed down the block at a rapid rate. This was amusing and would have been even more fun if he had been able to breathe. Finally, the water dumped him rather abruptly in an alley, where he was able to get back onto his feet and continue his journey.

Tas was almost sorry to reach the Temple after so many adventures, but—reminding himself of his Important Mission—he crept through the garden and made his way inside. Once there, it was, as Raistlin had predicted, easy to lose himself in the confusion created by the storm. Clerics were running everywhere, trying to mop up water and broken glass from shattered windows, relighting blown out torches, comforting those who could no longer stand the strain.

He had no idea where the Sacred Chamber was, but there was nothing he enjoyed more than wandering around strange places. Two or three hours (and several bulging pouches later), he ran across a room that precisely matched Raistlin’s description.

No torches lit the room; it was not being used at present, but flashes of lightning illuminated it brightly enough for the kender to see the altar and the curtains Raistlin had described. By this time, being rather fatigued, Tas was glad to rest. After investigating the room and finding it boringly empty, he made his way past the altar (empty as well) and ducked behind the curtains, rather hoping (even if he was tired) to find some kind of secret cave where the Kingpriest performed holy rites forbid den to the eyes of mortal men.