"Seventy-five coppers!" exclaimed the notoriously thrifty dwarf.
"The message bottle is quite unique," agreed Tanis, standing and stretching. He gazed out over CrystalmirLake, remembering a picnic he and Kitiara had had once on its shores. "But I don't understand why it puts you in mind of danger. It’s just Tas on a boat writing one of his rambling letters. The part about the minotaur herbalist is a little odd, but—"
"The peddler brought other information with him," Raistlin cut in. "He had come from Eastport himself, where the talk of the docks was that the Venora had been lost at sea in an unusually sudden and violent storm. The peddler has made the trip between Southern Ergoth and Abanasinia many times, so he knows Captain Murloch by sight, and he swears he saw some of the captain's mates drinking in the taverns of VengeanceBay. And they were paying for their celebration with minotaur coin."
"Curious," agreed Tanis, running his fingers through his reddish brown hair.
"Even more curious," added Raistlin, "is that the corpse of Captain Murloch washed up on the rocks within the week. His body was bloated, his features erased. His face was eaten away, covered by strange burns and punctures. Despite that, the crew recognized him as their captain, and immediately they collected what remained of their minotaur money and scattered to the winds."
Tanis sat down heavily. Flint's brow furrowed.
"It's been over seven weeks since the Venora left Eastport," added Raistlin significantly.
"How do you know it isn't some kind of trick, or one of Tas's pranks?" barked Flint suspiciously. "How can you trust this peddler?"
"It's no trick!" responded Raistlin impatiently, "The peddler only wanted to do the errand and get his coppers. I could see that. He was well-meaning. The message in the bottle held no augury for him."
Flint sighed. He stood and skipped a stone across the surface of placid LakeCrystalmir. Seven skips. Not bad, the dwarf thought to himself with some pride.
Sturm and Caramon—those big oafs were nothing more than overgrown kids, really. They couldn't be counted on to behave sensibly, Flint thought. Why, he had spent hours with them in the woods along these very shores, and all around Solace for that matter, teaching them the lore of the forest. Willing enough pupils, but put them together with Tasslehoff, and . . .
"So they're a few weeks late," said Flint cautiously. "I don't see what all the bother is."
Raistlin grew solemn. "There's something else . . . something I should have realized before. You remember that I happened to be with Tasslehoff when his friend Asa told him there was a minotaur herbalist on Southern Ergoth who sold crushed jalopwort in his shop.
"As unlikely as that information seemed, I paid special attention because of an ancient spell I had come across once in one of Morath's spellbooks. Although the pages were crumbling and I couldn't decipher all the phrases, the spell intrigued me."
Tanis watched Raistlin closely. As he had when he first heard this story, the half-elf thought there was some part of the account that Raistlin was keeping to himself.
"I knew that the spell required jalopwort," Raistlin continued, "and that jalopwort is rarely found in these parts. Here was an opportunity to obtain some. Sturm and Caramon volunteered to accompany Tas on a journey to Southern Ergoth to purchase a quantity for me."
"And?" prompted Flint, who was beginning to think that Raistlin was getting awfully long-winded these days. The dwarf knew all about the crushed whatever-it-was and the reasons behind the trip to Southern Ergoth. He took aim and skipped another stone. Nine skips, the dwarf counted with satisfaction.
Raistlin templed his fingers, staring at both of them with that intensity that so unnerved Tanis. "After receiving Tasslehoff's message, I made the journey to Poolbottom yesterday and consulted with the Master Mage. He reminded me of something that I should have taken into account. Jalopwort grows in abundance only on the island of Karthay, a remote and desolate part of the minotaur isles. According to minotaur law, it cannot be transported or sold outside the realm. Minotaur society deems jalopwort sacred. That indicates whoever killed the minotaur herbalist—"
"Argotz," murmured Tanis, remembering.
"Whoever killed Argotz," continued Raistlin, "may have followed Sturm, Caramon, and Tasslehoff and tried to kill them."
Tanis jumped up, eager for an adventure, eager to be doing something, anything but mooning around in Solace. "Then we must go to VengeanceBay, track these seamen, and force them to tell us what happened to the Venora. If necessary, we'll go to Eastport and look for clues."
Flint looked at his elven friend in horror. "Go to VengeanceBay . . . Eastport?" the dwarf sputtered. He was worried about his friends, but this seemed a little hasty. Flint had been thinking of taking a summer trip, but somewhere nice and quiet and alone up in the mountains, not to the rowdy, crowded towns of the seacoast.
"No," Raistlin said flatly. "It has been over ten days since the peddler was in VengeanceBay. And Eastport would yield nothing. It would be a fruitless chase."
"Listen to Raistlin," agreed Flint hurriedly. "It wouldn't make any sense."
Raistlin gestured impatiently. "And remember, the sailors were celebrating with minotaur coin," the mage said. "No, it wouldn't make any sense to head to the west, because if I am right, the danger to my brother and our friends lies far, far to the east. That is where we must go as quickly as possible. To the BloodSea and the minotaur isles."
"To the BloodSea?" gasped Flint. His face lost color. He had to sit
