"Yes," the voice said, obviously annoyed, "and while I'm still willing to talk to you, I guess I should tell you to stay to your left when the tunnel divides." The human re-' sumed walking.

A few moments later, Tanis fought to keep from getting pinned between the narrowing tunnel walls. "I'm not sure I can squeeze through," he called out.

The voice seemed to have lost its irritation. "Keep going. If I could, I would happily give you my little shoulders, nickname and alk It's just this sort of activity that they're great for."

Who cares? Tanis wondered. Actually, the voice was beginning to sound more like a kender than a human; Tas wandered conversationally, too, but the owner of this voice had displayed an unkenderlike tendency toward irritability. Tanis resolved to humor his rescuer. "Does this cave widen eventually?" he asked.

"The other advantage," the voice prattled on hollowly, "is that I make a rather thin target. As you can see, I like to look on the bright side. If only there were some light. By the way, what is your name7"

"Tanis Half-Elven."

"Well, Tanis-may I call you that, or do you prefer the entire title?"

Tanis puffed with the effort of inching along a passageway designed more for a dwarf or kender than someone of human blood. "Anyone who saves my life can call me anything he wants. And if you don't mind my asking, why did you save my life?"

The voice, ranging up into the alto register now as its owner became winded, reverted to an earlier question.

"First of all, Tanis, the tunnel widens again soon and then cuts to the right before there's a sudden drop. You'll fit through just fine. And…" Tanis heard several deep breaths, and the voice dipped back'to baritone. "And as for why I pulled you down here into this miserable dark pit, the answer is simple. I need protection. And now you owe me your life."

Tanis grimaced in the darkness. Certainly the old mage, breathing out his life on some lakeshore a century in the future, did not have the time left for Tanis to let himself get diverted from the quest for Brandella. And Tanis definitely had priorities of his own. In his mind, however, he could hear Sturm Brightblade quoting the Solamrdc oath, "My honor is my life," and he suspected that his former companion would find the time to help Scowarr, regardless of the consequences.

Scowarr paused-for dramatic effect, Tanis was beginning to realize-then said, "You know, some people pay their debts when they're due, some pay them when they're overdue, and some never do."

"That's clever," Tanis conceded.

"But you didn't laugh," Scowarr complained.

"I smiled. You just couldn't see me because it's so dark."

"Not good enough. Anyway," the man persisted, "the question is, Are you going to pay me back?"

Tanis made one last effort to escape from the responsibility that now pressed about him like the tunnel's narrow walls. "I didn't ask you to save my life," he pointed out.

The voice balanced annoyance with an equally irritating note of reasonableness. 'True, but I'm asking you to save mine. And it comes out the same in the end. Let's not quibble, Tanis. Can I count on you?" Tanis could almost hear his companion hold his breath for the answer.

Tanis had to be honest-or as honest as he could be. If he tried to explain the whole story, the human never would believe him. "I'm here to find two people," he said. "I must find them as fast as I can, and then, after I find them, I must leave immediately. I have no choice in this. If I can protect you in the meantime, I will. You have my word."

The gravelly tone dropped from the voice. "Good," Scowarr said. "And you can have my whole sentence." Tanis groaned.

"Some people farм. Sоме tan hides. There are tinkers, smiths, teachers, clerics, soldiers. Everybody does something. Me," said Scowarr, "I tell jokes." 'To earn your daily bread?" asked Tanis doubtfully as he inspected his broadsword for damage. The thin-framed human, whose otherwise youthful face was deeply etched with laugh lines around the eyes and mouth, did not answer. Instead, he picked at the small, smokeless campfire that burned in their seacliff wall cave. Tanis thought he had embarrassed his new friend into silence. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

"I'm the one who's sorry," Scowarr replied mournfully. "Of all the jackanapes I could have saved today, I had to pick one who doesn't laugh at my jokes, who doesn't smile at my cleverisms, who hasn't even heard of me!"

"Shhhl There's no telling who else is in these tunnels," said Tanis, pointing toward the last hole through which they'd crawled. Scowarr had led Tanis through a honeycomb of tunnels, depositing them in a cave that lay just north of Ankatavaka, facing west. The noon sun beat down on the sea, but the cave remained damp and chilly.

The human glanced nervously over his shoulder, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes for a moment. "Don't scare me like that," he said. "I was sick once and went to a healer. I told him that I was afraid to die. He said, 'Don't worry. That's the last thing you'll do.' "

Tanis smiled.

'That's it?" Scowarr demanded. "One of my best' jokes, and all you can do is lift one-half of one lip?"

Tanis hastened to conciliate the man. "I guess my thoughts are elsewhere. Sorry."

" 'Sorry,' " Scowarr mimicked. He pouted and sat, wordless, until the moments stretched uncomfortably long. Finally, he spoke. "I was dragged from my home because of my fame as a funny man and forced to tell my jokes to this idiot army of humans." He spat out the word "humans" with sarcasm.

"But you're a… " Tanis began, then, thinking better of it, leaned closer to inspect his sword as though he'd just found a nick in the blade.

Scowarr continued heedlessly. " 'Entertain them,' the officer told me. 'Make them laugh; they're far from home, and their morale is low. You always make people laugh, Little Shoulders. That's what your neighbors say. Make my men laugh. Make them laugh, or I'll change your name to Broken Shoulders. Or worse.' "

"That's why you're here?" Tanis interjected.

Scowarr nodded. "And I've begun to think that my neighbors were trying to get rid of me."

Tanis wasn't sure if that was a joke or not. Luckily, Scowarr didn't explode when the half-elf neglected to laugh.

"We were just a few miles from here," Scowarr went on. "It was yesterday. There must have been three hundred soldiers sitting on a hillside while their commander waited for orders.

" Make them laugh.” he said. 'Now.'

" 'But it's the middle of the afternoon,' I told him. 'It's hot. They're tired. They're in a bad mood. This isn't a good time.'

" They're hot, they're tired, and in a foul mood,' their commander said. 'And that's just why they need a good laugh to keep their spirits up.'

" 'It's not the right time,' I complained again. So he put a knife to my throat… and I told my jokes."

Tanis leaned forward, suffering for the poor, frail soul who sat across the fire from him. "What happened?" he asked, knowing that Scowarr needed to tell it.

Scowarr looked out the cave entrance at the Straits of Algoni. The waves danced in the distance, but Tanis knew the funny man wasn't seeing the beauty of the natural world. He was back in time, suffering humiliation in front of hundreds of soldiers.

"They laughed," Scowarr conceded. "They laughed a lot. I was overjoyed. Such a big audience." His voice began to rise again, and he poked once more at the fire. "Such gales of laughter; it was enough to make you feel like a god. Except they weren't laughing with me, Tanis. After I'd told maybe eight or ten jokes, one of them-one of my own kind!-shot an arrow at me."