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Tanis held up his hand. “Enough.” He scratched his beard. “You will be safer with us. Will you accept our help?”

“I will,” Goldmoon answered gravely, “for a short distance at least.”

“Good,” Tanis said. “Tas, you know your way through Solace Vale. You are our guide. And remember, we’re not on a picnic!”

“Yes, Tanis,” the kender said, subdued. He gathered his many pouches, hung them around his waist and over his shoulders. Passing Goldmoon, he knelt swiftly and patted her hand, then he was out the cave entrance. The rest hastily gathered their gear together and followed.

“It’s going to rain again,” Flint grumbled, glancing up at the lowering clouds. “I should have stayed in Solace.” Muttering, he walked off, adjusting his battle-axe on his back. Tanis, waiting for Goldmoon and Riverwind, smiled and shook his head. At least some things never changed, dwarves among them.

Riverwind took their packs from Goldmoon and slung them over his shoulder. “I have made certain the boat is well-hidden and secure,” he told Tanis. The stoic mask was in place again this morning. “In case we need it.”

“A good idea,” Tanis said. “Thank—”

“If you will go ahead.” Riverwind motioned. “I will come behind and cover our tracks.”

Tanis started to speak, to thank the Plainsman. But Riverwind had already turned his back and was beginning his work. Walking up the path, the half-elf shook his head. Behind him, he could hear Goldmoon speaking softly in her own language. Riverwind replied—one, harsh word. Tanis heard Goldmoon sigh, then all other words were lost in the sound of crackling brush as Riverwind obliterated all traces of their passing.

7

The story of the staff.

Strange clerics. Eerie feelings.

The thick woods of Solace Vale were a green mass of vibrant life. Beneath the dense roof of the vallenwoods flourished thistlebrush and greenwall. The ground was crisscrossed with the bothersome tangleshoot vines. These had to be trod on with great care or they would suddenly snake around an ankle, trapping the helpless victim until he was devoured by one of the many predatory animals lurking in the Vale, thus providing tangleshoot with what it needed to live—blood.

It took over an hour of hacking and chopping through the brush to get to the Haven Road. All of them were scratched, torn, and tired, and the long stretch of smooth-packed dirt that carried travelers to Haven or beyond was a welcome sight. It wasn’t until they stopped just in sight of the road and rested that they realized there were no sounds. A hush had fallen over the land, as if every creature were holding its breath, waiting. Now that they had reached the road, no one was particularly eager to step out of the shelter of the brush.

“Do you think it’s safe?” Caramon asked, peering through a hedge.

“Safe or not, it’s the way we have to go,” Tanis snapped, “unless you can fly or unless you want to go back into the forest. It took us an hour to travel a few hundred yards. We ought to reach the crossroads next week at that pace.”

The big man flushed, chagrined. “I didn’t mean—”

“I’m sorry.” Tanis sighed. He too looked down the road. The vallenwoods formed a dark corridor in the gray light. “I don’t like it any better than you do.”

“Do we separate or stay together?” Sturm interrupted what he considered idle chatter with cold practicality.

“We stay together,” Tanis replied. Then, after a moment, he added, “Still, someone ought to scout—”

“I will, Tanis,” Tas volunteered, popping up out of the brush beneath Tanis’s elbow. “No one would ever suspect a kender traveling alone.”

Tanis frowned. Tas was right—no one would suspect him. Kender were all afflicted with wanderlust, traveling throughout Krynn in search of adventure. But Tas had the disconcerting habit of forgetting his mission and wandering off if something more interesting caught his attention.

“Very well,” Tanis said finally. “But, remember, Tasslehoff Burrfoot, keep your eyes open and your wits about you. No roaming off the road and above all”—Tanis