As Raistlin had hoped, the nudibranch—not known for its intelligence—opened its mouth wide for what we were shoving in its direction. We released the anchor at the last moment and scurried to safety.
An almost surprised expression crossed the slug's rudimentary face as Captain Nugetre turned the wheel hard away from the creature. The sudden movement caused it to slide backward off the deck into the sea. Flint's anchor took it swiftly down into the murky depths until we could no longer glimpse any evidence of it other than the explosion of bubbles that rose to the surface.
The attack had left the Castor sorely in need of repair. Three sailors were dead, as we were reminded by the blood staining the deck, and Flint had to take up the task of creating another anchor from scrap metal.
TENTH DAY
Captain Nugetre says we are no more than half a day from the coast of Karthay, even at the slow pace we must now maintain. The Castor is a crippled ship. Only round-the-clock bailing shifts keep us afloat, a strain on the crew, which has been halved by our experiences. Flint, Raistlin, Kirsig, and I pitch in.
Although the journey across the Blood Sea has been as fast as anyone could have hoped, the captain says that he isn't sure that the fee makes up for the damage to his ship and crew.
"I will not take the chance of making the landing at Karthay," Captain Nugetre announced. "I won't incur any further risks. I will give you a small boat to row to shore. Consider yourselves fortunate at that."
Despite Kirsig's best entreaties, Captain Nugetre has refused to budge from his position.
Raistlin paid him his double fee and didn't press him about the landing. The captain has more than kept his part of the bargain, Raistlin said, thanking him.
Kirsig announced her intention to come with us. Flint tried to talk her out of it—unsuccessfully. She insisted that she wouldn't abandon her "pretty dwarf."
More of a surprise was that Yuril announced her desire to join us. Captain Nugetre raged at her, but to no effect. The first mate said that she owed us her life—at least twice over—and that she intended to help us fulfill our quest. The captain seemed saddened as well as angry at her decision. Not for the first time did I get the idea that these two at some time had been more than captain and ship's mate to each other.
Three of the sailors, all female and more loyal to Yuril than to Captain Nugetre, said they would come along as well.
That made eight, and the furious Nugetre had to promise us two small boats in order to land us ashore.
Chapter 10
The Evil Kender
The potion worked wonderfully. Most assuredly, Tasslehoff Burrfoot had been changed into an evil kender. There could be no question about that. From his former topknot to his toes, Tas was thoroughly evil.
The minotaur guards weren't so sure they didn't like Tas better the way he was before, before Fesz, the shaman minotaur and the high emissary of the Nightmaster, had fed him the potion that perverted his true kender nature.
Of course, they couldn't be called Tasslehoff's guards anymore, not strictly speaking. Glorying in his new evilness, Tas had been upgraded from prisoner to honored guest of the minotaur king. He occupied privileged quarters on an upper floor of the palace, a spacious room of plush and velvet with a balcony overlooking the sprawling, seedy city of Lacynos.
Across the hall was another privileged guest room, even more privileged and roomier, that had been set aside for Fesz, who needed to be close to Tas on account of their growing friendship and frequent consultations.
A small number of minotaur guards still stood outside Tas's room in the hallway. They were ordered to keep Tas from leaving the premises without escort or authorization, but they were also ordered not to act like guards. Instead, they were to act friendly and do the kender's bidding, and they dared not disobey.
The evil kender was ten times the nuisance that the good kender had been—that is, if anyone would have called Tas "good" in the first place. Worse than a nuisance, in the unanimous opinion of the minotaur guards, Tas was downright . . . well, evil.
Since the guards were his to order around, Tas made sure they were kept busy attending to his every whim. And Tas had plenty of whims, one for every minute of the day, it seemed.
In his evilness, Tas had decided that he would like to take three hot baths each day at strictly appointed intervals. It was hard work, even for the minotaur guards, to organize the baths and heft the hot water buckets up the several flights of stairs leading to the privileged guest quarters three times a day.
And woe betide them if the water wasn't hot enough. If it wasn't, Tas would throw a terrible tantrum, hitting them over the head with the empty bucket or poking them in the eyes with a curtain rod, the best poking weapon he had at his disposal. Or he would curse them with an amazing litany of taunts. Some of the guards could barely restrain themselves, having to take insults and orders from a kender. But take it they did, and after the hitting and poking and taunting, they usually had to slink out and start all over again, praying to get the bathwater hot enough next time.
Because he was a bit bored being cooped up all day, every day in his privileged quarters, Tasslehoff also decided that he wanted the room redone and painted in more pleasing colors. He didn't like its present off-white, but it was very difficult for Tas to decide precisely which color,
