Time of the Twins

Raistlin started to leave, but Crysania stopped him. “I-I apologize for not trusting you, Raistlin Majere,” she said softly. “And, again, I thank you for coming.”

Raistlin turned. “And I apologize for my sharp tongue,” he said. “Farewell, Revered Daughter. If you truly do not fear knowledge, then come to the Tower two nights from this night, when Lunitari makes its first appearance in the sky.”

“I will be there,” Crysania answered firmly, noting with pleasure Bertrem’s look of shocked horror. Nodding in good-bye, she rested her hand lightly on the back of the ornately carved wooden chair.

The mage left the room, Bertrem followed, shutting the door behind him.

Left alone in the warm, silent room, Crysania fell to her knees before the chair. “Oh, thank you, Paladine!” she breathed. “I accept your challenge. I will not fail you! I will not fail!”

Chapter 1

Behind her, she could hear the sound of clawed feet, scrapping through the leaves of the forest. Tika tensed, but tried to act as if she didn’t hear, luring the creature on. Firmly, she gripped her sword in her hand. Her heart pounded. Closer and closer came the footsteps, she could hear the harsh breathing. The touch of a clawed hand fell upon her shoulder. Whirling about, Tika swung her sword and... knocked a tray full of mugs to the floor with a crash.

Dezra shrieked and sprang backward in alarm. Patrons sitting at the bar burst into raucous laughter. Tika knew her face must be as red as her hair. Her heart was pounding, her hands shook.

“Dezra,” she said coldly, “you have all the grace and brains of a gully dwarf. Perhaps you and Raf should switch places. You carry out the garbage and I’ll let him wait tables!”

Dezra looked up from where she knelt, picking broken pieces of crockery up off the floor, where they floated in a sea of beer. “Perhaps I should!” the waitress cried, tossing the pieces back onto the floor. “Wait tables yourself... or is that beneath you now, Tika Majere, Heroine of the Lance?”

Flashing Tika a hurt, reproachful glance, Dezra stood up, kicked the broken crockery out of her way, and flounced out of the Inn.

As the front door banged open, it hit sharply against its frame, making Tika grimace as she envisioned scratches on the woodwork. Sharp words rose to her lips, but she bit her tongue and stopped their utterance, knowing she would regret them later.

The door remained standing open, letting the bright light of fading afternoon flood the Inn. The ruddy glow of the setting sun gleamed in the bar’s freshly polished wood surface and sparkled off the glasses. It even danced on the surface of the puddle on the floor. It touched Tika’s flaming red curls teasingly, like the hand of a lover, causing many of the sniggering patrons to choke on their laughter and gaze at the comely woman with longing.

Not that Tika noticed. Now ashamed of her anger, she peered out the window, where she could see Dezra, dabbing at her eyes with an apron. A customer entered the open door, dragging it shut behind him. The light vanished, leaving the Inn once more in cool, half-darkness.

Tika brushed her hand across her own eyes. What kind of monster am I turning into? she asked herself remorsefully. After all, it wasn’t Dezra’s fault. It’s this horrible feeling inside of me! I almost wish there were draconians to fight again. At least then I knew what I feared, at least then I could fight it with my own hands! How can I fight something I can’t even name?

Voices broke in on her thoughts, clamoring for ale, for food. Laughter rose, echoing through the Inn of the Last Home.

This is what I came back to find. Tika sniffed and wiped her nose with the bar rag. This is my home. These people are as right and beautiful and warm as the setting sun. I’m surrounded by the sounds of love—laughter, good fellowship, a lapping dog...

Lapping dog! Tika groaned and hurried out from behind the bar.

“Raf!” she exclaimed, staring at the gully dwarf in despair.

“Beer spill. Me mop up,” he said, looking at her and cheerfully wiping his hand across his mouth.

Several of the old-time customers laughed, but there were a few, new to the Inn, who were staring at the gully dwarf in disgust.

“Use this rag to clean it up!” Tika hissed out of the corner of her mouth as she grinned weakly at the customers in apology. She tossed Raf the bar rag and the gully dwarf caught it. But he only held it in his hand, staring at it with a mystified expression.

“What me do with this?”

“Clean up the spill!” Tika scolded, trying unsuccessfully to shield him from the customer’s view with her long, flowing skirt.

“Oh! Me not need that,” Raf said solemnly. “Me not get nice rag dirty.” Handing the cloth back to Tika, the gully dwarf got down on all fours again and began to lick up the spilled beer, now mingled with tracked-in mud.