Time of the Twins

“Hush!” Justarius ordered, and his voice was tinged with anger. “Of course, he knew this was a possibility. He had to be prepared. It was well he did so, for we had no idea your brother intended to move this fast!” Tas heard the man draw a deep breath. When he spoke again, it was in calmer tones. “Now, I repeat, when we climb these last few stairs—speak no word! Is that understood?”

“Yes.” Caramon sounded subdued.

“Do exactly as Par-Salian commands you to do. Ask no questions! Just obey. Can you do that?”

“Yes.” Caramon sounded more subdued still. Tas heard a small tremor in the big man’s reply.

He’s scared, Tas realized. Poor Caramon. Why are they doing this to him? I don’t understand. There’s more going on here than meets the eye. Well, that makes it final. I don’t care if I do break Par-Salian’s concentration. I’ll just have to risk it. Somehow, someway—I’m going to go with Caramon! He needs me. Besides—the kender sighed—to travel back in time! How wonderful...

“Very well.” Justarius hesitated, and Tas could feel his body grow tense and rigid. “I will say my farewells here, Caramon. May the gods go with you. What you are doing is dangerous... for us all. You cannot begin to comprehend the danger.” This last was spoken so softly only Tas heard it, and the kender’s ears twitched in alarm. Then the red-robed mage sighed.

“I wish I could say I thought your brother was worth it.”

“He is,” Caramon said firmly. “You will see.”

“I pray Gilean you are right... Now, are you ready?”

“Yes.”

Tas heard a rustling sound, as if the hooded mage nodded his head. Then they began to move again, climbing the stairs slowly. The kender peered out of the hole in the bottom of the sack, watching the shadowy steps slide by underneath him. He would have seconds only, he knew.

The stairs came to an end. He could see a broad stone landing beneath him. This is it! he told himself with a gulp. He could hear the rustling sound again and feel the mage’s body move. A door creaked. Quickly, Tas’s sharp teeth sliced through the remaining threads that held the seam together. He heard Caramon’s slow steps, entering the door. He heard the door starting to close...

The seam gave way. Tas fell out of the sack. He had a passing moment to wonder if mice always landed on their feet—like cats. (He had once dropped a cat off the roof of his house to see if that old saying was true. It is.) And then he hit the stone floor running. The door was shut, the red-robed mage had turned away. Without stopping to look around, the kender darted swiftly and silently across the floor. Flattening his small body, he wriggled through the crack between the door and the floor and dove beneath a bookcase that was standing near the wall.

Tas paused to catch his breath and listen.

What if Justarius discovered him missing? Would he come back and look for him?

Stop this, Tas told himself sternly. He won’t know where I fell out. And he probably wouldn’t come back here, anyway. Might disturb the spell.

After a few moments, the kender’s tiny heart slowed down its pace so that he could hear over the blood pounding in his ears. Unfortunately, his ears told him very little. He could hear a soft murmuring, as if someone were rehearsing lines for a street play. He could hear Caramon try to catch his breath from the long climb and still keep his breathing muffled so as not to disturb the mage. The big man’s leather boots creaked as he shifted nervously from one foot to the other.

But that was all.

“I have to see!” Tas said to himself. “Otherwise I won’t know what’s going on.”

Creeping out from underneath the bookcase, the kender truly began to experience this tiny, unique world he had tumbled into. It was a world of crumbs, a world of dust balls and thread, of pins and ash, of dried rose petals and damp tea leaves. The insignificant was suddenly a world in itself. Furniture soared above him, like trees in a forest, and served about the same purpose—it provided cover. A candle flame was the sun, Caramon a monstrous giant.

Tas circled the man’s huge feet warily. Catching a glimpse of movement out of one corner of his eye, he saw a slippered foot beneath a white robe. Par-Salian. Swiftly, Tas made a dart for the opposite end of the room, which was, fortunately, lit only by candles.

Then Tas skidded to a stop. He had been in a mage’s laboratory once before this, when he’d been wearing that cursed teleporting ring. The strange and wonderful sights he’d seen there remained with him, and now he halted just before he stepped inside a circle drawn on the stone floor with silver powder. Within the center of the circle that glistened in the candlelight lay Lady Crysania, her sightless eyes still staring up at nothing, her face as white as the linen that shrouded her.

This was where the magic would be performed!