"I will;' Tas said, smiling.

Tas found Fizban two levels down. (A fascinating journeyhe simply yelled out the name -of his level, then Leaped into the void. Nets flapped and fluttered, bells went off, gongs sounded and whistles blew. Tas was finally caught one level above the ground, just as the area was being inundated with sponges.)

Fizban was in Weapons Development, surrounded by gnomes, all gazing at him with unabashed admiration.

"Ah, my boy!" he said, peering vaguely at Tasslehofe. "You re just in time to see the testing of our new ;weapon. Revolutionize warfare. Make the dragonlance obsolete."'

'Really ?" Tas asked in excitement.

"A fact!" Fizban confirmed. "Now, you stand over here-' He an.otioned to a ,gnome who leaped to do his bidding, running

to stand in the middle of the cluttered room.

Fizban picked up what looked, to the kender's confused mind, like a crossbow that had been attacked by an enraged fisherman. It was a crossbow all right. But instead of an arrow, a huge net dangled from a hook on the end. Fizban, grumbling and muttering, ordered the gnomes to stand behind him and give him room.

"Now, you are the enemy;' Fizban told the gnome in the center of the room. The gnome immediately assumed a fierce, warlike expression. The other gnomes nodded appreciatively.

Fizban .aimed, then let fly. The net sailed out into the air, got snagged on the hook at the end of crossbow, and snappedback like a collapsing sail to engulf the magician.

"Confounded hook!" Fizban muttered.

Between the gnomes and Tas, they got him disentangled.

"I guess this is good-bye," Tas said, slowly extending hid small hand.

"It is?" Fizban looked amazed" "Am I going somewhere? I one told rne". I'm not packed-'

"I'm going somewhere;' Tas said patiently, "with Laur We're taking the lances and-oh, I don't think I'm supposed tbe telling anyone;' he added, embarrassed.

"Don't worry. Mum's the word.' Fizban said in a ho. whisper that carried clearly through the crowded room. "You love Palanthas. Beautiful city. Give Sturm my regards. and Tasslehoff"-the old magician looked at him shrewdly, "'you did the right thing, my boy!"

"I did?" Tas said hopefully. "I'm glad:" He hesitated. ", w dered . . . about what you said-the dark path. Did I-?"

Fizban's face grew grave as he gripped Tas firmly an shoulder. 'I'm afraid so. But you have the courage to wailk'

"I hope so;'Tas said with a small sigh. "Well, good- bge. be back. Just as soon as the mar's over."

"Oh, I probably won't be there;' Fizban said, shaking I-~s so violenay his hat slid off. "Soon as the new weapon"s

fected, I'll be leaving for-" he paused. "Where was that I

supposed to gc? I can't seem to recall. But don't worry.

meet again. At least you're not leaving me buried under a

of chicken feathers!" he muttered, searching for his hat,. '

Tas picked it up and handed it to him.

"Good-bye;' the kender said, a choke in his voice.

"Good-bye, good-bye!" Fizban waved cheerfully. Thengiving the gnomes a hunted glance-he pulled Tas over to him. "Uh, I seem to have forgotten something. What was my name again?"

Someone else said good-bye to the old magician, too, although not under quite the same circumstances.

Elistan was pacing the shore of Sancrist, waiting for the boat that would take him back to Southern Ergoth. The young man, Douglas, walked along beside him. The two were deep in conversation, Elistan explaining the ways of the ancient gods to a rapt and attentive listener.

Suddenly Elistan looked up to see the old, befuddled magician he had seen at the Council meeting. Elistan had tried for days to meet the old mage, but Fizban always avoided him. Thus it was with astonishment Elistan saw the old man come walking toward them now along the shoreline. His head was bowed, he was muttering to himself. For a moment, Elistan thought he would pass by without noticing them, when suddenly the old mage raised his head.

"Oh, I say! Haven't we met?" he asked, blinking.

For a moment Elistan could not speak. The cleric's face turned deathly white beneath its weathered tan. He was finally able to answer the old mage, his voice was husky. "Indeed we have, sir. I did not realize it before mow. And though we were

but lately introduced, I feel that I have known you a long, long time."

"Indeed?" The old man scowled suspiciously. "You're not making some sort of comment on my age, are you?"

"No, certainly not!" Elistan smiled.

The old man's face cleared,

"I'Vell, have a pleasant journey. And a safe one. Farewell:'

Leaning on a bent and battered staff, the old man toddled an past them. Suddenly he stopped and turned around. "Oh, by the way, the name's Fizban."

"I'll remember;" Elistan said gravely, bowing, "Fizban."

Pleased, the old magician nodded and continued on his way along the shoreline while Elistan, suddenly thoughtful and quiet, resur-,eG his walk with a sigh.

The Perechan.

Memories o, f long ago.

his is crazy, I hope

realize that!" Caramon hissed.

,-We wouldn't be here it we were sane, would we?" I'a~ responded, gritting his teeth.

"No," Cararnon muttered., "I suppose you're right:'

The two men stood an the shadows of a dark alleyway, '~ town where generally the only things ever found in alley wre rats drunks and dead bodies.

e ,

The name of the wretched town was Flotsam, and it well-named, far :it lay upon the shores of the Blood Sea of

THE DRAGONS OF WINTER NIGHT

like the wreckage of a broken vessel tossed upon the rocks. Peopled by the dregs of most of the races of Krynn, Flotsam was, in addition, an occupied town now, overrun with draconians, goblins, and mercenaries of all races, attracted to the Highlords by high wages and the spoils of war.

And so, "like the other scum;' as Raistlin observed, the companions floated along upon the tides of war and were deposited in Flotsam. Here they hoped to find a ship that would take them on the long, treacherous journey around the northern part of Ansalon to Sancrist-or wherever-

Where they were going was a point that had been much in contention lately-ever since Raistlin's recovery from his illness. The companions had anxiously watched him following his use of the dragon orb, their concern not completely centered on his health. What had happened when he used the orb? What harm might he have brought upon them?

"You need not fear," Raistlin told them in his whispering voice. "I am not weak and foolish like the elven king. I gained control of the orb. It did not gain control off me:'

"Then what does it do? How can we use it?" Tanis asked, alarmed by the frozen expression on the mages metallic face.

"It took all my strength to ,gain control of the orb; Raistlin replied, his eyes on the ceiling above his bed. "It will require much mare study before I learn how to use it."

"Study . . :' Tanis repeated. "Study of the orb?"

Raistlin flicked him a glance, then resumed staring at the ceiling. 'No," he replied. "The study of books,, written by the ancient ones who created the orb. We must go to Palanthas, to

the library of one Astinus, who resides there:'

Tanis was silent for a moment. He could hear the mage's ''breath rattle in his lungs as he struggled to draw breath.

What keeps him clinging to this life? Tanis wondered sillentlv.

It had snowed that morning, but now the snow had charged to rain. Tanis could hear it drumming on the wooden roof of the wagon. Heavy clouds drifted across the sky. Perhaps it was

the gloom of the day, but as he looked at Raistlin, Tanis felt a chill creep through his body until the cold seemed to freeze his heart.

"4Vas this what you meant, when you spoke of ancient spells?" Tanis asked.