Tanis stopped and grabbed Flint's arm. "You haven't answered my question," he said tersely.
"Well," said Flint, halting in midstep. His eyebrows shot up and down like a pair of wriggling caterpillars. "There may have been someone once. Another hill dwarf like myself, of course. I don't know that you'd call it love. It was sort of . . . a romance."
Flint stumbled over his words, the color rising to his cheeks. He looked at his feet, shifting his weight back and forth. Tanis waited for him to go on.
"Well?" queried Tanis at last, leaning closer to his friend, "Go on, what happened? Tell me."
Flint's expression was pained. "She was a huntsman's daughter," he said hesitantly. "Our families had pledged us to be married since birth. Times were hard in those days." He snorted. "Still are . . ."
Tanis listened with fascination. The dwarf was normally stingy with personal information. Maybe his good mood had put him off guard, allowing his natural reserve to slip.
Flint paused, seeming to watch something in his mind's eye. Abruptly he shook his head as if to clear it of cobwebs.
"She was just . . . someone! Back when I was young and foolish like you!" he said gruffly. "You know how it is with dwarves. Marriages have to be arranged and approved by the clans. Or do you know very much about the history of the hill dwarves and mountain dwarves? Now there's an interesting tale . . . ."
Tanis coughed. "What was her name?"
Flint glared at him. "Lolly Ockenfels."
Tanis broke out into a grin.
"A respectable clan, the Ockenfels," Flint said defensively. "They were exceptional huntsmen. But the point is, I didn't think that it was a good time to get hitched, married, and take on family responsibilities. I was just a sprig of a lad, and although I'd seen her around, I didn't really know Lolly all that well. That is, until we had a secret rendezvous to talk it over, and I found out that she was a lot like me."
Tanis raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Pigheaded?" he ventured.
"Strong-minded," Flint said, irritated. "And when we had our secret meeting, why, I found out she was just as eager as I was to scotch the whole thing. Only . . ."
"Only what?"
"You ask a lot of bothersome questions," Flint snapped. "I don't know why I'm telling all this to you." He broke off and moved toward the bridge, but Tanis stepped in front of him, blocking his way.
"Only what?" the half-elf repeated.
Flint spoke in a quiet voice. "Only, meeting with her, all alone like that, I got to know her better and see what she was like. Strong-minded, like myself . . ."
"You said that."
"And kinda pretty. Long pigtails, good, strong shoulders . . . dark brown eyes that were, uh, deep." His voice trailed off. Flint chanced a glance at Tanis, who was waiting eagerly for the rest of the story.
"Well?"
Flint set his jaw. "That's one too many questions, boy." The dwarf swatted Tanis on the shoulder, knocking him off balance. "I've said too much already, and Raistlin's waiting."
Flint clomped off toward the bridge. Tanis looked after him thoughtfully. Then, with a couple of long strides, he caught up.
Coming across the bridge from the opposite direction sauntered a couple of seedy farmhands heading toward the marketplace in Solace. One, dressed in an ill-fitting tunic, pointed at Tanis and made a loud remark about "pointy elf ears," provoking a guffaw from his companion.
Flint could feel Tanis tense as they approached. Considering the mood Tanis was in, Flint thought, the half-elf might get himself into trouble.
The dwarf moved quickly, deftly unbuckling a mallet from the belt around his waist and seeming to drop it accidentally to the ground. He managed to kick it with his boot so that it slid toward the scruffy pair and stopped, spinning, at the feet of the one who had made the crude comment.
The man stooped to pick it up, but Flint was already there. When he lifted his mallet up, the dwarf "accidentally" smacked its hard, rounded end into the chin of the man in the tunic. The farmhand collapsed in a heap.
"Oops," said Flint as he and Tanis continued on their way. The other fellow, slapping his friend's cheeks, looked after them in slack-jawed amazement.
* * * * *
By the time Tanis and Flint reached the wooded path along the shore of Crystalmir Lake, their moods had switched. Wondering with some relish what adventure might lay ahead, Tanis's spirits had buoyed considerably, while Flint, who had kept up a monologue about what a , nuisance Tasslehoff could be, had worked himself into a fretful temper.
The summer had come in with a blaze of scarlet, purple, and gold wildflowers that lined the path. Tall trees ringed the lake. The sky was cloudless, and there was no hint of wind. PlacidCrystalmirLake stretched out before them like shiny blue glass.
Gazing at the lake's smooth surface, Flint's spirits revived somewhat. He was pretty sure he could beat Tanis at rock-skipping. Maybe he could win that copper back.
Ahead of them they spotted Raistlin, his back to them, perched on a large flat rock overlooking the lake. The aspiring mage wore a rust-colored robe that covered his thin frame and spilled over onto the stone. Tanis and Flint knew the Majere twin liked this place. It had something to do with an adventure he, Caramon, and Kitiara had here when they were kids. Now he often came here to be alone for hours at a time—"to ponder the imponderable," as Flint put it, "which, fortunately for the rest of us ordinary folks, is a job for mages."
Raistlin turned and stood to greet them, his grave smile quickly evaporating. His face was tightly drawn. The mage motioned for them to sit next to him
