"You're welcome," said the kender pointedly. The dwarf did not meet his gaze.
Facing the crowd, the young man waved his hands and dismissed their curiosity. "That's all folks, there's nothing happening here anymore. Go on back to your business." Turning to the kender, he offered his hand. "My name is Tanthalas, but everyone calls me Tanis. This fellow, who'd have you believe you've deeply offended him, is my good friend and hearthmate, Flint Fireforge. His bark is much worse than his bite."
Tasslehoff reached up and clasped the man's hand warmly. "I can't begin to say how happy I am to meet you, Tanis. You're the first person I've met here who's spoken kindly to me. I'm Tasslehoff Burrfoot, of the Kendermore Burrfoots. Maybe you've heard of us?
"Happy to make your acquaintance, too, Flint Fire-forge. I'm sorry you misunderstood my intentions about the bracelet. It's a beautiful piece of work." Tas extended his hand to the dwarf, who folded his arms and stared at the sky until a jab from Tanis's elbow nearly knocked him over. After firing a simmering glance at Tanis, Flint finally—grudgingly—accepted Tasslehoff's handshake and "apology."
Tanis watched Flint's scowling face, amused. "Well, Tasslehoff," he said, "I'm glad that's settled. I wish you a pleasant journey, wherever it is you're going."
"Actually," the kender said thoughtfully, "now that I have some friends here in Solace, I believe I might stay for a while."
"Actually," said Flint hastily, "we don't live—"
The heel of Tanis's boot crunched Hint's toes, cutting off the dwarf's words. "What Flint meant to say was, even though we live here," explained Tanis, "we'll be leaving in a day or two, as soon as the highways dry up again. The Spring Festival only lasts two more days, and then we'll be taking our goods on the road, south to Qualinost, probably."
Tas's face lit up. "Really? I've never seen the ancient elf capital, but I hear it's breathtaking. My uncle Trapspringer met the Speaker of the Sun once. I was thinking of going there myself." His expectant gaze traveled from Tanis to Flint and quickly back to Tanis again.
Tanis shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Well, a trip to Qualinost isn't definite. Not yet, that is. We might, umm, head north into Abanasinia first. We still haven't decided. It all depends."
"What does it depend on?" the kender asked innocently.
Flint folded his arms and smirked at Tanis, then said smugly, "I'm interested, too, Tanis. Exactly what does this depend on?"
Tanis shuffled his feet and cleared his throat awkwardly, then tried to swallow the dry lump forming there. 'The usual things. The condition of the roads, and what we hear from other merchants about those areas, and whether we can get good directions, and—" he blushed—"things like that."
Tasslehoff beamed. "You don't have to worry about directions. I have wonderfully accurate maps of the whole area. They show where the roads come from and where they're going—mostly, anyway. Plus where there are bad bridges and high taxes and monsters and good food. They show lots of things." The kender set his shoulders resolutely. "You're going to be awfully glad you met me."
Chapter 2
Among Friends
The Inn of the Last Home was perched high in the branches of one of the mightiest vallenwood trees in Solace. This was only fitting, as the inn was one of the largest buildings in town. Even on the ground it would have looked inviting. Nestled there in the branches of that powerful tree, the two-story inn seemed enchanted.
The one drawback to its location was reaching it. A long and winding ramp spiraled round and round the great trunk until it finally deposited the unprepared visitor, puffing and very ready for a drink, at the door of the inn, forty feet above the ground. (Needless to say, this ramp had a stout railing for the sake of those customers who might have trouble negotiating the path back down.)
This evening found Tanis and Flint snaking their way up the torturous incline.
Pausing for a moment to lean against the trunk, Flint ruffled his moustache. "I swear that rascal Otik moves this inn just a little bit higher every year. Besides, what idiot makes his business taxing to get to and easy to leave?"
"It's only hard when you start from the ground. I never hear you complain when we come in on the bridge-walks," replied Tanis. "I think the real problem is that you're getting old."
"And I think you're getting stupid," grumbled the dwarf as he resumed the pace. "Only a hare-brain would meet a kender for a drink, and only a doomed idiot would invite one along on a trip."
Tanis, who was accustomed to the dwarf's bile after years of exposure, took no offense. "Nobody says you have to come along, Flint. I know your wares well enough to sell them for you. Somebody your age probably shouldn't travel much, anyway."
Flint poked a short, stubby finger at his nettlesome young friend. "Just you remember that even at my age I could still snap you in half like a greasy chicken bone. It's only my short reach that's kept you alive this long."
Tanis chuckled and wrapped his arm around the dwarf's thick shoulders. "Anyway," he said, "nobody says he has to come along, either. He'll probably forget we even suggested it. If he really does have maps of the whole region we can look at and perhaps copy, he could save us enormous amounts of time and wasted effort. You know what a maze the KharolisMountains can be."
"Yes, I know," the dwarf grumbled. "And I also know I could be sitting before my own hearth with my feet up, eating my own smoked ham and drinking good dwarf spirits."
The half-elf sighed. "It'll do you good to get out. I swear," he said with a shake of his russet head, "you'd be a regular hermit, Flint Fireforge, if I let you."
"So why don't you?"
Tanis clapped Flint's shoulder fondly. "It's a shame I'm the only one who knows what a pushover you are." He
