"Oh, that's different, let me think. ... I didn't clean up last night—waited until this morning. That's right, I came downstairs early to ready the inn for breaking fast. Took a bowl of gruel from the porridge pot—not a good batch at all, though, all lumpy and gluey." Otik's eyes narrowed, and he scrubbed overzealously at a spot on the bar. "I'll be speaking to Amos Cartney. He can't go on selling grains that choke a man."
"Otik, the bracelet," Tanis reminded the innkeeper before Flint exploded.
"Oh, yes." Otik shook his head. "No, no bracelet. I'm sure I didn't find a bracelet. I could ask one of the serving girls, or you could check around your table yourself . . ."
Before the innkeeper could finish the sentence, Flint ran to the table and dropped to his knees, pushing chairs and benches out of his way. He gave up the search after only a few minutes, falling back on his haunches with a resigned, hopeless sigh, his arms folded across his knees.
"That doesn't look good," Otik muttered to Tanis. "What's so important about this bracelet?"
"It was commissioned by a lady from out of town, and she's coming to fetch it at the festival." Tanis remembered something and chuckled. "He lost it once already, yesterday, to a kender . . ." Tanis's voice trailed off as an awful idea took form in his head.
Tanis stepped away from the bar and approached his friend cautiously. The dwarf still sat on the floor, back against the wall, muttering incomprehensibly to himself. "Say, Flint, you don't suppose the bracelet could be with Tasslehoff—?"
"Burrfoot!" Flint spurted. His eyes shot open and his hands twisted into tight fists. "I should have thought of that. I knew he was just another thieving, scheming little—" The dwarf cut his verbal tirade short when he noticed a young serving girl, eyes wide and staring, as she lugged ashes from the fireplace.
"Well, that's simple, then," Tanis said. "The kender said he intended to stay here at the inn for a few days. Let's just find him and get it back," he finished reasonably.
"Yeah, I'll get it back." Flint rose to his feet, an evil glint in his eyes.
Otik leaned across the bar on his elbows. "You talking about that little kender fellow you two were drinking with last night?" Flint nodded. Otik shook his balding head. "You won't find him here. He bounced down the stairs early, ate breakfast—and a mighty big one, I'll add, for such a little fellow—then left, that little sling-stick over his shoulder."
Flint seized Otik's arm. "He was just going out for the day, right?"
Otik shook his head again. "I don't think so ... He paid off his bill." Otik's expression turned to wonder. "Can you imagine, a kender actually paying his bill? Of course, I had to remind him several times—once he was all the way out the door—but he paid it, all right."
"Did he say where he was headed? The festival, perhaps?" Tanis asked.
Otik eased his bulk onto a stool and tapped his chin in thought. "Festival, hmm. I don't recollect . . . no, I'm sure not, come to think of it. Just making conversation, I asked him that very question myself. He said he'd had his fill the day before, said he was going to lick his finger, stick it in the air, and go wherever the wind was blowing."
Tanis shook his head sadly and clapped Flint's hunched shoulder sympathetically. "That about clinches it, Flint. You'll just have to tell this lady the truth and give her money back. She'll probably understand."
Flint had been staring silently at some distant point in space, absorbed in thoughts of revenge and kender hunting. Suddenly he spun, grabbed Tanis by the lapels, and shook him. "You don't understand! I don't have the money to give back to her! I spent it on supplies for our trading trip! I can't very well explain that, can I?"
Tanis struggled to pry Flint's hands from his clothing, but couldn't break the dwarf's grip. "So, offer to make her another one."
"Didn't you hear anything I said last night?" he bellowed. "She gave me special ingredients, and there was only enough for one bracelet! She told me specifically to make only one! She came to me because she trusted me—and me alone—to get it right the first time. What am I supposed to say?" he moaned, his face screwing up into a sarcastic grimace. "'Yes, ma'am, I made it, all right. It was beautiful. I'm sorry I let a fast-fingered kender walk off with it.' I'd be humiliated. Worse still, if word spreads, my reputation as a metalsmith will be ruined!"
Still grasping Tanis's lapels, Flint looked toward the door. "Otik, how long ago would you say the kender left?"
"Four hours, maybe."
'You're not thinking of trying to follow him, are you?" Tanis asked, incredulous. "You don't even know what direction he was headed."
"Sure I do. He's walking with the wind." Flint released Tanis only to shove his finger in his mouth, then stare at it as he held it in front of his face. "This will tell me where he went." Tanis's skeptical expression irritated the desperate dwarf. "What other choice do I have? He's only four hours ahead at most. The way kender travel, stopping to talk to bugs and clouds and Reorx knows what other foolish claptrap, I can probably catch up to him, throttle the bracelet out of him, and be back before dark, with average luck."
"What if this lady customer shows up at the booth looking for the bracelet while you're gone?"
Flint thought about that one for a long moment. "You know my wares well enough that you could stay behind and open the booth. Stall her if she shows up—tell her I'm still working on it or something."
Tanis held his hands up defensively and backed away. "Oh, no, you don't. I'm not staying behind to blow
