Tales of Uncle Trapspringer

my time on more important matters.'

'We'll wait,' Trap said, making a major concession. Waiting was the hardest chore a kender ever faced. The next hour seemed to last a month.

Ripple, sitting at the other end of the room, near the sleeping merchesti, was playing with a small object. Trap wandered over to see what it was. She held a white rock that gave off a curious little glow when she rubbed it.

'Touch it,' she instructed her bother.

'Quiet!' Halmarain shouted.

'Touch it,' Ripple whispered. 'I found it when we were picking up the books.'

Trap fingered the rock. It felt so slick, at first he thought it was covered with a slimy substance, but his fingers were dry when he withdrew his hand.

'Wonder what it is,' he asked just loud enough for Ripple to hear. Then he had an idea, one so exciting he forgot to keep his voice down.

'Do you think it's magic?' he asked Ripple. She shook her head indicating her ignorance and continued to play with it, but his question had caused Halmarain to raise her head.

'Is what magic?' she asked. 'Let me see what you're talking about.'

Ripple jumped up and skipped across the room, anxious to have the little wizard explain the stone.

'I found it on the floor, and I was just keeping it until you had time to tell me what it is,' she said, holding it out. 'It's really interesting, the way it feels wet and slippery, but there's no water on it. Do you know what makes it so slippery? It's like the moss in the creek at home; when you put your foot on it, you slide. Doley Goforth once slipped on the moss and he went-'

'It's one of the gate stones!' Halmarain cried out, staring at the strange little rock in her hand. 'That's why Orander hasn't come back! He only has one stone!'

'Then why don't we open the portal and give him the other one,' Trap asked. 'When he gets back we can-'

'It doesn't work that way,' Halmarain interrupted. She lowered her head over her reading, but the kender didn't understand that she was attempting to end the conversation.

'Doors are doors,' the sometimes practical Ripple announced. 'My brother can open all sorts of doors. He is very good, you're just not giving him a chance.' She gazed at Trap. 'Remember that door to Longdown Walka-long's house?'

'Sure, I got that open when even Uncle Skipout couldn't.'

Halmarain clenched her tiny hands into fists as she forced down her impatience. 'Look,' she said. 'I'll try to explain so even you can see the difficulty.'

'To understand portals, you must think in terms of the multiverse. Think of an onion slice, the way the rings circle each other?'

'I like onions in a stew.' Trap informed her.

'Planes circle each other like the rings of an onion,' Halmarain continued, ignoring Trap's interruption. 'There are many worlds on each plane, some are nice, some terrible. To reach them you must go through portals: doors created by magic.'

'They're not ordinary doors?' Trap asked, disappointed.

'I've heard kender are good with locks, but you can't open a door that isn't there,' the little wizard explained. 'Portals have to be created. We can't make one and neither can Orander. At least, I don't think we can. Let me study these books.'

'No food,' Grod suddenly complained.

'Leave here, find food,' Umpth announced, getting to his feet and picking up the wagon wheel.

'You're not leaving here, not any of you.' Halmarain glared at the dwarves. 'You helped to make this mess and you'll stay and help settle it.'

'Done swept,' Grod argued, thinking he had done his share.

'That's not the mess I'm talking about,' the wizard said. 'Now I know what that monster is.' She tapped the book in front of her and pointed to the corner of the room where Beglug slept. 'It's an infant merchesti. Well, probably not an infant, but so young I doubt it can take care of itself.'

'A merchesti?' Trap asked. 'What is a merchesti? Can it make magic too?'

'It's a creature from the Plane of Vasmarg, and its evil. Apparently they have some innate magic, though this one is probably too young to take advantage of it. That's probably why it snarled at me,' she said, her eyebrows rising in surprise. 'It's sensitive to the power around it, and afraid.'

'It doesn't seem evil,' Ripple said.

'It is, but, according to Alchviem, the merchesti are normally not a problem to us, even if we opened a portal. Our world doesn't attract them, it's a bit too cold, he says.'

'The wind that came through the portal was hot,' Ripple said. 'Do you remember the hot wind that blew-'

'And it was hot over there,' Trap said, interrupting Ripple's story.

Halmarain ducked her head over the book again and read for a bit.

'Alchviem says here that he traveled on Vasmarg without trouble except for the time when he encountered a merchesti with a young one. Apparently they're vicious when protecting their young. As long as that thing'-she pointed to the corner again-'stays in our world, it's parent will be working to reach Krynn. Merchesti have been known to use portals, or so Alchviem writes.'

'So will she open the portal and take her baby back?' Trap asked. He hoped the wizard would return soon. Perhaps he could persuade Orander to take the kender with him on his travels.

'That's what I'm trying to find out. In the meantime we need to keep the creature here, and you will look after it. I need to study, to see if there is any way I can protect us from it.'

'If Orander can't open the portal with one stone, how can the merchesti do it?' Ripple said, her sharp little mind still alert to fallacy.

'They have been known to enter other planes by their own means,' Halmarain said. 'Not even Alchviem knew much about the merchesti.'

'You said the mother wasn't dangerous, and she didn't hurt Trap,' Ripple reminded Halmarain.

'No, I said it wasn't interested in Krynn. If it opened a portal, entered our world, and couldn't find its young, it could kill thousands in its search.' She glared at the kender. 'It didn't hurt your brother because it was too concerned with finding its offspring to bother with him. Merchesti are evil, they're from an evil world.'

Grod, who had been walking around the room, stared at Halmarain with wide blue eyes. The gully dwarf turned to look at the little fiend, then back to gaze at the wizard, and then turned toward Beglug again.

'I don't see how you can be so sure of that,' Trap argued. 'Beglug doesn't look evil, and he hasn't done anything wrong. He's just little, and if he does things we don't like we can teach him to be good. Remember, Ripple, when little Ham Trotalong wanted to walk off the side of the bridge, his mother taught him not to?'

Ripple agreed with her brother. 'And if the merchesti mother loves her baby enough to search for it, she couldn't be evil either.'

'Caring for its young doesn't make it good,' Halmarain retorted. 'Every creature is born with a need to procreate. The need to protect the young usually varies with the number of offspring at one birth. A creature that lays hundreds, maybe thousands of eggs at one time may leave them to their fate, but those have few or single births actively protect their young.

'Protection has nothing to do with good and evil, it's an instinct,' the little wizard continued. 'That thing is evil. It doesn't seem harmful right now, but if it's in our world very long, you'll soon see for yourselves.'

'What can we do?' Trap asked the little wizard.

'I don't know,' Halmarain admitted. Her face twisted as if she might cry, but she pulled herself together. 'I don't know what I can do, I'm just an apprentice. I don't know enough magic to open the portal, even if we had both stones.'

'But you can read Orander's books,' Ripple said, encouraging Halmarain.

'Sure, you're a wizard, even if you're just a little one,' Trap agreed. 'You'll think of something, and we'll help you, if you want us to, particularly if you show us some magic.'

The tiny human drew herself up and took a deep breath. She formed her trembling lips into a firm line and