“Rhys,” cried Nightshade in strangled tones. “Look up.”

The kender pointed.

Krell hung upside down, suspended from the ceiling of the grotto from a length of rope tied around his boot. His ram’s skull helm had fallen off and now lay on the floor at Mina’s feet.

Krell’s eyes bulged. His mouth gaped open and shut. His broken arm dangled helplessly. He struggled, kicking his foot, but only succeeded in twisting round and round in midair.

Mina looked up at Rhys.

“I’m not sleepy anymore. It’s time to go.”

Rhys gazed up at Krell, twisting and turning on his god-spun thread, demanding, begging Chemosh to come save him. Rhys looked at Nightshade, who was staring at Mina with awestruck eyes-and it is not easy to strike awe into a kender.

Mina reached out and took hold of Rhys’ hand.

“You’re going to take me home, Mister Monk,” she reminded him. “You promised.”

Rhys could not answer. A smothering sensation in his chest made it hard to breathe. He was starting to realize the enormity of the task that he had undertaken.

“C’mon, Mister Monk!” Mina tugged at him impatiently.

“My name is Rhys Mason,” Rhys said, trying to speak in normal tones. “And this is my friend, Nightshade.”

“P-pleased to meet you,” said Nightshade faintly.

“What’s the dog’s name?” Mina asked. She reached down to pet Atta, who cringed at the god-child’s touch and would have crawled off, but Nightshade had hold of her. “She’s a nice dog. I like her. She bit the bad man.”

“Her name is Atta.” Rhys drew in a deep breath. He knelt down, putting himself at eye-level with her. “Mina, why do you want to go to Godshome?”

“Because that’s where my mother is,” Mina answered. “She’s waiting for me there.”

“What is your mother’s name?” Rhys asked.

“Goldmoon,” said Mina.

Nightshade made a choking sound.

“My mother’s name is Goldmoon,” Mina was saying, “and she’s waiting for me at Godshome, and you’re going to take me to her.”

“Rhys,” said Nightshade, “could I have a word? In private?”

“Aren’t we going now?” Mina asked impatiently.

“In a minute,” said Rhys.

“Oh, all right. I’ll go play outside,” Mina stated. “Can the dog come with me?” She ran to the entrance of the grotto and turned to call, “Atta! Come, Atta!”

Rhys made a sign with his hand. Atta cast him a reproachful glance, then, her ears drooping, she slunk out of the cave.

“Rhys”-Nightshade pounced on him-“what in the name of Chemosh, Mishakal, Chislev, Sargonnas, Gilean, Hiddukel, Morgion and… and all the other gods I can’t think of right at the moment, what do you think you’re doing?”

Rhys picked up Nightshade’s boots and held them out to him.

Nightshade shoved the boots aside.

“Rhys, that little girl is a god! Not only that, she’s a god who has lost her bloody mind!” Nightshade waved his arms to emphasize his words. “She wants us to take her to Godshome-a place that maybe doesn’t even exist to meet Goldmoon-a woman who’s been dead for years! That girl is crackers, Rhys! Cuckoo! Looney! Off her rocker!”

“Chemosh,” Krell was howling. “You son-of-a-bitch! Come get me out of here!”

Nightshade jerked his thumb upward.

“What happens when Mina gets mad at us? Maybe she’ll shoot us off to a moon and leave us stranded there. Or pick up a mountain and drop it on top of our heads. Or feed us to a dragon.”

“I made a promise,” said Rhys.

Nightshade sighed and, sitting down, he pulled on one of his boots and tugged.

“You made that promise before you knew all the facts,” Nightshade stated, pulling on the other boot. “Do you even know where Godshome is-that is, if it is?”

“Legend holds that Godshome is in the Khalkist mountains, somewhere near Neraka,” Rhys replied.

“Oh, well, that’s all right,” Nightshade grumbled. “Neraka is the most horrible, evil place on the continent. Not to mention that it’s on the other side of the-world.”

“Not quite that far,” said Rhys, smiling.

They left the grotto, where Krell was still hanging from the ceiling, twisting and swearing. Chemosh appeared to be in no hurry to rescue his champion.

“In my opinion, you were hoodwinked,” Nightshade continued. He halted at the entrance, looking up at his friend. “Rhys, I want you to consider one thing.”

“What’s that, my friend?”

“Our story is over, Rhys,” said Nightshade earnestly. “We had a happy ending-you and me and Atta. Let’s close the book and go home.”

The kender gestured to Mina, who was running among the sand dunes, laughing wildly. “This is god-business, Rhys. We shouldn’t be getting mixed up in it.”

“A wise person once told me, ‘You can’t quit a god,’” said Rhys.

“The person who said that to you was a kender,” Nightshade returned grumpily. “And you know you can’t trust them.”

“I trusted one with my life,” said Rhys, resting his hand on Nightshade’s head. “And he did not let me down.”

“Well, then, you got lucky,” Nightshade muttered. He shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked at a rock.

“My story is not finished. No one’s story is ever really finished. Death is just the turning of another page. But you are right, my friend,” Rhys said with an involuntary sigh. “Traveling with her will be dangerous and difficult. Your story may not be finished, but perhaps now you should turn the page, take a different path.”

Nightshade thought this over. “Are you sure Majere won’t help me pick locks?”

“I cannot say for certain,” Rhys replied, “but I really doubt it.”

Nightshade shrugged. “Then I guess I’ll stay with you. Otherwise I’d starve.”

He grinned and winked. “I’m only fooling, Rhys! You know I’d never leave you and Atta. What would you two do without me? You’d get yourselves killed by crazy gods!”

That may yet be the end of our tale, Rhys thought. Chemosh will not be the only god seeking Mina.

He kept the thought to himself however, and, whistling to Atta, he gave his hand to Mina, who came skipping up to him.

Mina set off, but she did not head toward the road. She started walking toward the sea.

“I thought you wanted to go to Godshome,” said Nightshade, who was not in a good mood. “What are you going to do? Swim there?”

“Oh, we’ll go to Godshome,” said Mina. “But first I want you to come with me to the tower.”

“Which tower?” Nightshade asked. “There are lots of towers in the world. There’s a very famous tower in Nightlund. I’ve always wanted to visit Nightlund, because it is filled with the roving spirits of the dead. I can talk to roving spirits, if you ever-”

“That tower.” Mina added proudly, “My tower.”

She pointed to the tower that stood in the middle of the Blood Sea.

“Why do you want to go there?” Rhys asked.

“Because she’s crazy,” Nightshade said in a low voice.

Rhys gave him a look, and the kender lapsed into a gloomy silence.

Mina stood gazing out across the sea.

“My mother will be mad at me for running away,” Mina said. “I want to bring Goldmoon a present so she will forgive me.”

Rhys recalled Revered Son Patrick, cleric of Mishakal, telling the story of Goldmoon and Mina. After Mina ran away, Goldmoon had grieved for the lost girl and hoped someday she would return. Then came Takhisis, the One God, and the War of Souls began with Mina leading the armies of darkness. Hoping to turn Goldmoon, who was now an elderly, frail woman, to the side of Darkness, Takhisis gave Goldmoon youth and beauty. Goldmoon did not want her youth back. She was ready to die, to proceed on the next stage of her life’s journey where her beloved, Riverwind, waited for her. Though Mina tried to persuade Goldmoon to change her mind, Goldmoon defied Takhisis and died in Mina’s arms.

Goldmoon must have died in sorrow, Rhys realized, believing the child she had loved was lost forever, bound to evil. No wonder Mina had obliterated that memory.