"Would he show us some magic?" Trap asked hopefully.

The little wizard frowned at the kender, then her gaze turned speculating for a moment. She favored them with a sly smile that was just opposite to her earlier mood.

"He just might show you all sorts of magic."

"Oh, good, if he'll show us magic, we'll be glad to help," Ripple said, her anger fading as quickly as it had appeared.

Trap stepped forward along with Ripple and with a shrug the gully dwarves took a hand. They set up the table and when it was in place Trap went back to the corner where the creature crouched.

"Trapspringer," he said as he put a hand to his chest. He tried three times before the huddled figure blinked, put a hand to its own chest, and said, "Beglug."

"Beglug," Trap repeated, pointing at the creature. He had intended to point to himself again and give his name, working through the process of building communication, but Beglug scampered out of his corner. As he stood upright he proved to be slightly less than three feet tall, just a couple of inches taller than the little wizard. His feet, which Trap had not noticed until the creature was standing on them, were small hooves. He dashed the length of the wall to the pile of broken glass and started eating it.

"No, you'll cut your mouth! You'll cut your insides all to pieces and you won't like that at all!" Trap ran after Beglug and tried to take the glass away. The creature bared its teeth and swatted at him with a hand that suddenly showed extended claws. Trap backed away.

"Waste time clean floor," Grod said with disgust.

Neither the mage nor the gully dwarves seemed to care what the little merchesti ate as long as they weren't on the menu. The two kender watched it anxiously. Beglug consumed the broken glass, apparently without feeling any pain.

Beglug ignored his companions as he happily cleaned the floor of all shards of glass, but when Halmarain climbed down off a stool and tried to pass the little fiend, he roared at her and made a swipe with his clawed hand.

"Keep it away from me or I'll kill it," Halmarain warned.

"He didn't attack you." Trap objected. "He just wants you to leave him alone."

"I wonder why he doesn't like you?" Ripple asked before leading the creature away to the corner where it had hidden behind the table. With a sound akin to a burp, it settled in its corner, closed its eyes, and went to sleep.

"You promised us some magic," Trap reminded the little wizard.

"I don't have time to play games. I need to open that portal."

"You promised," Ripple said, her voice harsh with anger. "You said you'd show us some magic if we picked up the books and we did, but if you're not going to keep your promise we can pull them all off the shelf again."

Halmarain glared at them for a moment, sighed, and pushed away the book she had been studying.

"You'll have to give me time to study something you would like." She sighed. "It can't be much, I need to put my time on more important matters."

"We'll wait," Trap said, making a major concession. Waiting was the hardest chore a kender ever faced. The next hour seemed to last a month.

Ripple, sitting at the other end of the room, near the sleeping merchesti, was playing with a small object. Trap wandered over to see what it was. She held a white rock that gave off a curious little glow when she rubbed it.

"Touch it," she instructed her bother.

"Quiet!" Halmarain shouted.

"Touch it," Ripple whispered. "I found it when we were picking up the books."

Trap fingered the rock. It felt so slick, at first he thought it was covered with a slimy substance, but his fingers were dry when he withdrew his hand.

"Wonder what it is," he asked just loud enough for Ripple to hear. Then he had an idea, one so exciting he forgot to keep his voice down.

"Do you think it's magic?" he asked Ripple. She shook her head indicating her ignorance and continued to play with it, but his question had caused Halmarain to raise her head.

"Is what magic?" she asked. "Let me see what you're talking about."

Ripple jumped up and skipped across the room, anxious to have the little wizard explain the stone.

"I found it on the floor, and I was just keeping it until you had time to tell me what it is," she said, holding it out. "It's really interesting, the way it feels wet and slippery, but there's no water on it. Do you know what makes it so slippery? It's like the moss in the creek at home; when you put your foot on it, you slide. Doley Goforth once slipped on the moss and he went-"

"It's one of the gate stones!" Halmarain cried out, staring at the strange little rock in her hand. "That's why Orander hasn't come back! He only has one stone!"

"Then why don't we open the portal and give him the other one," Trap asked. "When he gets back we can-"

"It doesn't work that way," Halmarain interrupted. She lowered her head over her reading, but the kender didn't understand that she was attempting to end the conversation.

"Doors are doors," the sometimes practical Ripple announced. "My brother can open all sorts of doors. He is very good, you're just not giving him a chance." She gazed at Trap. "Remember that door to Longdown Walka-long's house?"

"Sure, I got that open when even Uncle Skipout couldn't."

Halmarain clenched her tiny hands into fists as she forced down her impatience. "Look," she said. "I'll try to explain so even you can see the difficulty."

"To understand portals, you must think in terms of the multiverse. Think of an onion slice, the way the rings circle each other?"

"I like onions in a stew." Trap informed her.

"Planes circle each other like the rings of an onion," Halmarain continued, ignoring Trap's interruption. "There are many worlds on each plane, some are nice, some terrible. To reach them you must go through portals: doors created by magic."

"They're not ordinary doors?" Trap asked, disappointed.

"I've heard kender are good with locks, but you can't open a door that isn't there," the little wizard explained. "Portals have to be created. We can't make one and neither can Orander. At least, I don't think we can. Let me study these books."

"No food," Grod suddenly complained.

"Leave here, find food," Umpth announced, getting to his feet and picking up the wagon wheel.

"You're not leaving here, not any of you." Halmarain glared at the dwarves. "You helped to make this mess and you'll stay and help settle it."

"Done swept," Grod argued, thinking he had done his share.

"That's not the mess I'm talking about," the wizard said. "Now I know what that monster is." She tapped the book in front of her and pointed to the corner of the room where Beglug slept. "It's an infant merchesti. Well, probably not an infant, but so young I doubt it can take care of itself."

"A merchesti?" Trap asked. "What is a merchesti? Can it make magic too?"

"It's a creature from the Plane of Vasmarg, and its evil. Apparently they have some innate magic, though this one is probably too young to take advantage of it. That's probably why it snarled at me," she said, her eyebrows rising in surprise. "It's sensitive to the power around it, and afraid."

"It doesn't seem evil," Ripple said.

"It is, but, according to Alchviem, the merchesti are normally not a problem to us, even if we opened a portal. Our world doesn't attract them, it's a bit too cold, he says."

"The wind that came through the portal was hot," Ripple said. "Do you remember the hot wind that blew-"

"And it was hot over there," Trap said, interrupting Ripple's story.

Halmarain ducked her head over the book again and read for a bit.

"Alchviem says here that he traveled on Vasmarg without trouble except for the time when he encountered a merchesti with a young one. Apparently they're vicious when protecting their young. As long as that thing"-she pointed to the corner again-"stays in our world, it's parent will be working to reach Krynn. Merchesti have been known to use portals, or so Alchviem writes."