A skeptical snort was Hint's only answer, his heavy boots clopping noisily on the wooden bridgewalks.
They arrived at the landing before the entrance to the inn. Bright lights from inside shone warmly through the colorful stained glass windows. Sounds of laughter and song drifted out to welcome the new arrivals. Tanis closed his eyes, pulled open the door, and drew a deep breath as he stepped into the room.
The inn had an aroma that Tanis found irresistible: pipe and hearth smoke mingled in the air, along with the scents of Otik's spiced potatoes, sizzling sausages, roasting fowl, and fresh bread from the kitchen, and the inescapable smell of spring from the mighty vallenwood trunk that grew right through the midst of the common room.
As Tanis opened his eyes again, the pleasant air caught in his throat. The crowd at the inn was often boisterous. This night, several dozen patrons stood or sat throughout the room, clapping and banging their mugs on the tables in time to an embarrassingly bawdy song. And in the center of it all, leading the singing as he leaped from table to table and even walked on the shoulders of his audience, was the person they had come to meet, the irrepressible kender himself, Tasslehoff Burrfoot.
Flint's elbow jabbed into Tanis's ribs, releasing the air that had caught in the taller man's throat. Tanis glanced at Flint, but could only shrug in response to the dwarf's glare. With studied patience, Tanis began to thread his way through the noisy, stomping crowd.
The song ended moments before the two new arrivals reached an empty table along the room's farthest wall. Seemingly from nowhere, a body launched itself toward Tanis, who reflexively put out his arms to catch it.
Tas smiled up at his new friend. "Hey, Tanis, I'm glad you made it!" He crawled from the half-elf's lap, twisted his vest back into place, and settled himself into a chair. "What a crowd!" He took a sip from a half-empty mug of ale left over from the previous patrons. Foam coated his upper lip in a golden mustache. "This is a great town. I can see why you guys live here." He settled back with a satisfied belch.
"Did you hear the song?" he asked, leaning forward again. "It almost became the kender national anthem, but it's a hard one to sing correctly, what with those four octaves in it and all. Still, bad renditions are real popular at inns in Kendermore. At least they were when I was last home."
"When was that?" Tanis asked conversationally. He yanked the reluctant, grim-faced dwarf onto the bench next to him.
With a long-suffering sigh, Flint wiggled three fingers above his head at a serving girl and settled in for the night. The fair-haired lass bounced over quickly, three large, overfull mugs slopping over in her cradled arms.
"Thanks!" Tasslehoff threw back the contents of the half-filled mug he'd found, then traded it for one of the full ones in the girl's arms.
"Now, what was your question? Oh, yes, Kendermore," Tasslehoff recalled. He scratched his head. "What year is it now?"
"Year?" Tanis asked, incredulous. "Have you been gone so very long?"
"I haven't really given it much thought," said the kender, screwing up his wrinkled face in concentration. "Let's see, I left just after my sixteenth day of life-gift, which was the second of the month of Blessings, 341. I remember having two birthdays since then—one spent with some very nasty wizards who wanted this really neat teleporting ring I had, and the other talking to some very nice ladies in a pleasant bordello in Khuri-khan, or was it Valkinord? I always get them confused. Have you been?"
Oblivious to Hint's blush and Tanis's laughter, Tas pressed on. "I guess that means I've been on wanderlust for two and a half years, so far. Hmm," he muttered, "I didn't realize it had been that long. . . ."
"Good lords," breathed Flint apprehensively, "what on Krynn is 'wanderlust'?"
Tasslehoff looked surprised at the question. "Why, it's when you wander around, learning about life and making maps. When you've learned enough, or made enough maps, you're ready to return to your hometown and begin life as an adult. Doesn't everyone do it?"
"Good heavens, no," snorted the dwarf, compelled to call on the gods yet again. "What a ridiculous notion."
Tanis remarked with a shrug, "I guess it's no different than any culture's rite of passage. The elves have one, I know." He flinched at the memory of his humiliation at being forbidden to take the elven rite in Qualinost years ago because he was a half-breed. "And I'll bet the dwarves have one, too.
"So," Tanis continued, filling in the dwarf's gloomy silence, "have you learned enough to return home yet?"
"Not yet, but I'll tell you," the kender said as he leaned in, his little face serious, "I made some really great maps of that bordello."
Blushing anew, the straitlaced dwarf swallowed the last of his amber ale in another big gulp. "Speaking of maps, let's have another drink and take a look at yours."
"You want to see the bordello one?" asked Tas eagerly.
"No!" exploded Flint, flustered further by Tanis's laughter. Flint heaved a sigh of relief just then, when the serving girl returned with another round. "You said you had some maps of Abanasinia, which is the only reason I'm here. So let's see 'em," he ordered.
Of course, there were few things in the world Tasslehoff liked better than talking about and showing off his maps. In a trice he had ordered a plate of fried sausages and settled into his chair near the wall. Across from him, Tanis stretched out his legs along the bench, Flint still sitting stiffly next to him.
"I don't think you'll be able to see well way over there," Tas said frankly to the bushy-haired dwarf, "what with the light so dim and
