Dragons of Winter Night - Margaret Weis [15]
The guard watched them enter the Red Dragon. He waited outside in the cold until he was sure they must be in their rooms. Then, slipping inside, he spoke a few words to the innkeeper. The guard peeped inside the common room and, seeing the group seated and apparently settled for some time, ran off to make his report.
“This is what comes of trusting a kender’s map!” said the dwarf irritably, shoving away his empty plate and wiping his hand across his mouth. “Takes us to a seaport city with no sea!”
“It’s not my fault,” Tas protested. “I told Tanis when I gave him the map that it dated before the Cataclysm. ‘Tas,’ Tanis said before we left, ‘do you have a map that shows us how to get to Tarsis?’ I said I did and I gave him this one. It shows Thorbardin, the dwarven Kingdom under the Mountain, and Southgate, and here it shows Tarsis, and everything else was right where the map said it was supposed to be. I can’t help it if something happened to the ocean! I—”
“That’s enough, Tas.” Tanis sighed. “Nobody’s blaming you. It isn’t anybody’s fault. We just let our hopes get too high.”
The kender, his feelings mollified, retrieved his map, rolled it up, and slid it into his mapcase with all his other precious maps of Krynn. Then he put his small chin in his hands and sat staring around the table at his gloomy companions. They began to discuss what to do next, talking half-heartedly.
Tas grew bored. He wanted to explore this city. There were all kinds of unusual sights and sounds—Flint had been forced to practically drag him along as they entered Tarsis. There was a fabulous marketplace with wonderful things just lying around, waiting to be admired. He had even spotted some other kenders, too, and he wanted to talk to them. He was worried about his homeland. Flint kicked him under the table. Sighing, Tas turned his attention back to Tanis.
“We’ll spend the night here, rest, and learn what we can, then send word back to Southgate,” Tanis was saying. “Perhaps there is another port city farther south. Some of us might go on and investigate. What do you think, Elistan?”
The cleric pushed away a plate of uneaten food. “I suppose it is our only choice,” he said sadly. “But I will return to Southgate. I cannot be away from the people long. You should come with me, too, my dear.” He laid his hand over Laurana’s. “I cannot dispense with your help.”
Laurana smiled at Elistan. Then, her gaze moving to Tanis, the smile vanished as she saw the half-elf scowl.
“Riverwind and I have discussed this already. We will return with Elistan,” Goldmoon said. Her silver-gold hair gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the window. “The people need my healing skills.”
“Besides which, the bridal couple misses the privacy of their tent,” Caramon said in an audible undertone. Goldmoon flushed a dusky rose color as her husband smiled.
Sturm glanced at Caramon in disgust and turned to Tanis. “I will go with you, my friend,” he offered.
“Us, too, of course,” said Caramon promptly.
Sturm frowned, looking at Raistlin, who sat huddled in his red robes near the fire, drinking the strange herbal concoction that eased his cough.
“I do not think your brother is fit to travel, Caramon—” Sturm began.
“You are suddenly very solicitous of my health, knight,” Raistlin whispered sarcastically. “But then, it is not my health that concerns you, is it, Sturm Brightblade? It is my growing power. You fear me—”
“That’s enough!” said Tanis as Sturm’s face darkened.
“The mage goes back, or I do,” Sturm said coldly.
“Sturm—” Tanis began.
Tasslehoff took this opportunity to leave the table very quietly. Everyone was focused on the argument between the knight, the half-elf, and the magic-user. Tasslehoff skipped out the front door of the Red Dragon, a name he thought particularly funny. But Tanis had not laughed.
Tas thought