Time of the Twins

The voice sound faintly exasperated. Apparently, this had been going on for some time. Tas put his eye to the keyhole. He could see Bupu, her hair clotted with milk potatoes, glaring suspiciously at a red-robed figure. Now Tas remembered where he’d heard the voice—that was the man at the Conclave, who kept questioning Par-Salian!

“Highbulp!” Bupu repeated indignantly. “Not Highpulp! And Highbulp is home. You send me home.”

“Yes, of course. Now where is home?”

“Where Highbulp is.”

“And where is the Highpul—bulp?” the red-robed mage asked in hopeless tones.

“Home,” Bupu stated succinctly. “I tell you that before. You got ears under that hood? Maybe you deaf.” The gully dwarf disappeared from Tas’s sight for a moment, diving into her bag. When she reappeared, she held another dead lizard, a leather thong wrapped around its tail. “Me cure. You stick tail in ear and—”

“Thank you,” said the mage hastily, “but my hearing is quite perfect, I assure you. Uh, what do you call your home? What is the name?”

“The Pitt. Two Ts. Some fancy name, huh?” Bupu said proudly. “That Highbulp’s idea. Him ate book once. Learned lots. All right here.” She patted her stomach.

Tas clapped his hand over his mouth to keep from giggling. The red-robed mage was experiencing similar problems as well. Tas saw the man’s shoulders shake beneath his red robes, and it took him a while to respond. When he did, his voice had a faint quiver.

“What... what do humans call the name of your—the—uh—Pitt?”

Tas saw Bupu scowl. “Dumb name. Sound like someone spit up. Skroth.”

“Skroth,” the red-robed mage repeated, mystified. “Skroth,” he muttered. Then he snapped his fingers. “I remember. The kender said it in the Conclave. Xak Tsaroth?”

“Me say that once already. You sure you not want lizard cure for ears? You put tail—”

Heaving a sigh of relief, the red-robed mage held his hand out over Bupu’s head. Sprinkling what looked like dust down over her (Bupu sneezed violently), Tas heard the mage chant strange words.

“Me go home now?” Bupu asked hopefully.

The mage did not answer, he kept chanting.

“Him not nice,” she muttered to herself, sneezing again as the dust slowly coated her hair and body. “None of them nice. Not like my pretty man.” She wiped her nose, snuffling. “Him not laugh... him call me ‘little one.’”

The dust on the gully dwarf began to glow a faint yellow. Tas gasped softly. The glow grew brighter and brighter, changing color, turning yellow-green, then green, then green-blue, then blue and suddenly—

“Bupu!” Tas whispered.

The gully dwarf was gone!

“And I’m next!” Tas realized in horror. Sure enough, the red-robed mage was limping across the room to the bed where the thoughtful kender had made up a dummy of himself so that Caramon wouldn’t be worried in case he woke up.

“Tasslehoff Burrfoot,” the red-robed mage called softly. He had passed beyond Tas’s sight. The kender stood frozen, waiting for the mage to discover he was missing. Not that he was afraid of getting caught. He was used to getting caught and was fairly certain he could talk his way out of it. But he was afraid of being sent home! They didn’t really expect Caramon to go anywhere without him, did they?

“Caramon needs me!” Tas whispered to himself in agony. “They don’t know what bad shape he’s in. Why, what would happen if he didn’t have me along to drag him out of bars?”

“Tasslehoff,” the red-robed mage’s voice repeated. He must be nearing the bed.

Hurriedly, Tas’s hand dove into his pouch. Pulling out a fistful of junk, he hoped against hope he’d found something useful. Opening his small hand, he held it up to the candlelight. He had come up with a ring, a grape, and a lump of moustache wax. The wax and the grape were obviously out. He tossed them to the floor.

“Caramon!” Tas heard the red-robed mage say sternly. He could hear Caramon grunt and groan and pictured the mage shaking him. “Caramon, wake up. Where’s the kender?”

Trying to ignore what was happening in the room, Tas concentrated on examining the ring. It was probably magical. He’d picked it up in the third room to the left. Or was it the fourth? And magical rings usually worked just by being worn. Tas was an expert on the subject. He’d accidentally put on a magical ring once that had teleported him right into the heart of an evil wizard’s palace. There was every possibility this might do the same. He had no idea what it did.

Maybe there was some sort of clue on the ring?

Tas turned it over, nearly dropping it in his haste. Thank the gods Caramon was so hard to wake up!

It was a plain ring, carved out of ivory, with two small pink stones. There were some runes traced on the inside. Tas recalled his magical Glasses of Seeing with a pang, but they were lost in Neraka, unless some draconian was wearing them.

“Wha... wha...” Caramon was babbling. “Kender? I told him... don’t go out there... liches...”

“Damn!” The red-robed mage was heading for the door.