Tanis's home looked like most of the other tree-houses in Solace, except perhaps it was a bit smaller and more modestly appointed. With a grunt, Flint bent over and flipped up the seagrass mat beneath the door. "Damnation! What's that half-elf gone and done with his key now?"
"Are you looking for this?" Tasslehoff asked. Flint looked behind him and saw the kender with a notched key held aloft by his thumb and forefinger.
Flint scowled. "Give me that!" he said, snatching the key from the kender's hand. "Where did you get it?"
"Under the mat." Tasslehoff shook his head in disbelief. "Tanis really shouldn't keep his key where just anyone can find it. You never know who might help himself to his home." He wagged his finger at Flint. "It's a good thing I came along, you know."
Harrumphing, Flint slipped the key into the lock and gave the door a shove and the kender a yank. They stood in Tanis's cozy entryway, its outside wall cleverly carved into the vallenwood itself. Shafts of yellow sunlight puddled around their feet from small windows in the ceiling, which Tanis called skyloops, an elvish invention he brought with him from his childhood in Qualinesti.
Much of Tanis's home reflected his upbringing. There was a soothing, sylvan quality to its design, even apart from its placement in a vallenwood. Potted plants abounded. Like most houses in Solace, it had a common room, bed chamber, and kitchen. The hearth was the focal point in the common room, and around it were piled immense, fluffy feather pillows for sitting. In deference to his old dwarven friend, Flint, Tanis also had one sturdy chair. The only other furniture were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves carved into the nooks provided by the vallenwood that ran through the house. Tanis was an inveterate reader of anything and everything. He also collected rare, finely crafted bows, which he displayed on the wall opposite the hearth.
Flint saw the kender's eyes light up when they came upon the elven weapons. "Keep your hands to yourself," the dwarf cautioned. "If I see just one bowstring out of place, I'll—"
"You don't have to constantly threaten me," Tas interrupted wearily. "I won't touch anything."
Flint looked dubious. "It's taking, not touching, that I'm worried about."
"Why, I never—"
Flint held up a hand to silence the indignant kender. "I know, you've never stolen anything, and it's not your fault that the bracelet is missing," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Now, may we get on with collecting Tanis's things, so we can go find the bracelet that just mysteriously ended up in your possession not once but twice?"
"Be my guest." Tasslehoff waved Flint forward. "I must say, I'm glad to see that you're beginning to see my side in this thing."
Shaking his head incredulously, Flint stomped into Tanis's bedchamber and headed straight for the heavy wooden clothes chest at the bottom of the foot-high feather-stuffed ticking the half-elf used as a bed. He took out an undershirt, several pairs of hose, a tunic, two blankets, a woolen shirt, and heavy woolen socks. He quickly rolled the clothing inside the blankets, tied the two ends of the roll together with a leather thong, and slipped it over his shoulder.
Digging to the bottom of the chest, Flint found a large canvas sack and headed for the kitchen. As he passed the common room, Flint saw Tasslehoff quickly withdraw his hand from the bows.
"I was just looking!" He followed Flint to the kitchen.
The room was very small, really just a storeroom, or pantry, since the cooking was done in the hearth in the common room. The ceiling stretched up higher than in the other rooms, and vallenwood branches grew freely through holes poked and caulked in the side wall. Tanis utilized every available space with shelves. Smoked hams, bunches of dried herbs, bags of potatoes, squash, dried fruit, and garlic cloves hung from thick cords on dark beams. A small drop-leaf table folded down from a cupboard in the wall across from the archway, with two cane-backed chairs tucked beneath it.
Working quickly, Flint grabbed a haunch of ham, an acorn squash, and two handfuls of dried apples and stuffed them into the sack. As he turned to leave, he spotted Tasslehoff inspecting several raisin buns from the local bakery, which Flint knew to be among Tanis's favorite foods. Though usually generous to a fault, Tanis could be downright possessive about his buns.
"Get away from those. We have what we need," growled the dwarf.
"I was just thinking," Tas mused. "We could be gone for several days. These buns are already a day or two old." He poked one to demonstrate, licking his finger afterward. "By the time we get back, they'll be too stale to eat. It just seems like a shame, that's all."
Flint glanced at the buns, then scowled at the kender, then looked back to the buns again. They were thick and shiny with glaze, and each had a star-shaped pattern laid out on top with raisins. Now Flint was staring at them, his empty stomach growling and churning after their all-night march. They did look quite tasty.
"Just one," mumbled Flint, grabbing a bun for himself. Half of it disappeared in the first enormous bite. With his cheeks puffed out like a squirrel's and crumbs tumbling into his beard, he led the way back into Tanis's common room. Tasslehoff followed, popping raisins into his mouth.
Just as Flint raised the bun for a second bite, the door flew open and in strode Tanis. He carried a red-and-gray blanket, rolled lengthwise and slung over his shoulder. Bulges in the roll showed where other items were packed inside. Tanis lifted it over his head and dropped
