"A message bottle!" she exclaimed. "It's so pretty! I haven't seen one for eons! They're not very practical, however. Each owner can use it only once. But they do come in handy." Suddenly her brow furrowed. "I hope there's a good message inside, so I don't get bored with it in the meantime."

"If you like kender, you'll love-" Flint began before Tanis clapped his hand over the dwarf's mouth.

Chen'tal Pyrnee turned to stare suspiciously at the dwarf, but Raistlin cut in, waving his hand reassuringly. "It’s from a kender on an ocean voyage, and-"

Listening to Raistlin, she nodded excitedly. "Oooh! A kender!" Chen'tal Pyrnee squealed with delight. "I couldn't be more pleased. They are such diverting creatures. I hired one to clean and sweep for me over seven years ago, but it didn't work out, because one day… Oh, never mind. It’s a long story-kender stories always are-and as I recall, you're in a bit of hurry."

Moving with surprising speed, the ogress bustled over to the large trunk and opened it, with her copious backside carefully screening the interior from her visitors' view. She rummaged among the contents, noisily shoving things aside, until at last she straightened up and turned around, triumphantly clutching a shimmering black gem dangling from a silver chain.

"Here it is!" the Oracle proclaimed, handing it over to Raistlin. "It is very powerful, so use it wisely."

"The Amulet of Darkness," said Raistlin wonderingly, holding it up for the others to see. The gem spun slowly on its chain, catching the pale light in the room.

Flint thought it looked like a lot of other black gemstones he had seen in his life. Tanis could tell that Raistlin recognized it as unique.

"Of course," Chen'tal Pyrnee added wistfully, "I have never had an opportunity to use it myself, so I can only suggest how best to make use of it."

"I thought the Amulet of Darkness had been lost forever," mused Raistlin.

"Lost, perhaps," said the ogress, "but not forever. Besides, I didn't say it was the one and only Amulet of Darkness. You did. All I guarantee is that it will take you through the portal to Ogrebond. It will do that, I know. You can call it the Amulet of Mustard Pie, for all I care."

"How do we release the magic?" asked Raistlin.

Looking around warily, the ugly ogress leaned over and whispered into Raistlin's ear. The mage nodded, giving a sign to the others that he was satisfied. He pocketed the amulet.

"Where do we find the portal?" asked Tanis.

"Easy enough," said Chen'tal Pyrnee. She launched into a shrill recital of directions that were so elaborate they left Tanis dizzy. Something about due east, sharp left at dog rock, follow the tree line up to a high precipice, a gusty overhang, and then…

"I know the spot," said Flint.

The ogress stopped talking and turned her suspicious stare to the dwarf. The other two companions also looked at the dwarf in surprise. "I've hiked around these parts for thirty years," he said proudly. "You can't name a peak I haven't climbed or at least seen."

Tanis looked at Raistlin. "Then let's go," the half-elf said eagerly.

"Yes," Raistlin agreed. He made another slight bow to the Oracle. "Thank you for your help."

All three of them backed out of the cave, keeping their eyes on the one-eyed hag who was stirring her misty caldron with one hand and, with the other, happily holding the message bottle aloft.

"Thank you for the kender message bottle!" Chen'tal Pyrnee called to them as they retreated from sight. "Good luck with the portal! One never knows about portals. And if you happen to run across that old grump Morath, tell him not to send me any more visitors for at least a decade! I'm all done in!"

Tired and ill-tempered, the three companions made camp only a few short miles from the Oracle's cave. The strange, smelly ogress hadn't put any of them in a better mood for the adventure ahead. Tanis collected sticks and fallen branches for a fire, while Flint made a flaxweed broth for supper. Raistlin stayed apart from the half-elf and dwarf, eating placidly, his face drained, his eyes preoccupied as they stared into the dancing tongues of flame.

Finally Flint's cranky muttering got to the mage. "If you want to turn back, then turn back!" snapped Raistlin. "Both of you! If necessary, I'll find the portal and go to Ogrebond myself!"

"I didn't say anything about turning back," retorted Flint. "I was talking about where we're heading tomorrow!"

"Flint says it's a remote ledge at the top of a sheer cliff," explained Tanis diplomatically. "Very difficult to climb."

"How far away?" asked Raistlin, having regained his customary composure.

"Not far," huffed Flint, sipping his brown broth. "That's not the problem. I can climb it, and probably Tanis. But," he added, eyeing the young mage's less than impressive physique, "it may not be, uh, practicable for a fellow in your, uh, condition."

"How far away?" insisted Raistlin.

"One, maybe two hours only," said Tanis.

"Good," said Raistlin.

"How do we know the Oracle told the truth? How do we know there's a portal up there? How do we know it's not a waste of our blasted time?" Flint's voice rose vehemently.

"She told the truth," muttered Raistlin. "Morath said if Chen'tal Pyrnee chose to bargain, she would bargain fairly."

"But how do you expect to climb a precarious rock face?"

"Stop worrying about me," ordered Raistlin, "and get some sleep!"

Snorting angrily, Flint said nothing further. He hauled out his bedroll, lay down on it with his back to the others, and within minutes was snoring loudly. No words were exchanged between Tanis and the young mage during this awkward interlude.

Lunitari and Solinari shone at opposite ends of the sky, rising slowly toward each other, twin paths that at this time of year, late summer, would not intersect. The night was bright with stars at this elevation. The foliage had thinned considerably. The slope was strewn with sculpted rock. The light of the stars and moons revealed sparse, stunted trees rimmed by nearby peaks frosted with shining snow.

The serenity of the night echoed with the furtive sounds of nocturnal creatures. A gentle wind rustled the treetops. Tanis breathed deeply of the pine and earth and crisp mountain air.

He ventured to glance at Raistlin who sat, hands cupped together, still lost in thought, looking so worried and worn that a sharp breeze could knock him over. As Tanis watched, the young mage sighed, stood, and began pacing around the campfire. The half-elf was well aware of Raistlin's physical limitations, especially compared to his more robust twin. But he also knew that the young mage regularly adventured side by side with Caramon. And on more than one occasion, Tanis had seen a flash of the same fire that animated Raistlin's half-sister, Kitiara. No, Flint was wrong to underestimate the young mage, Tanis decided, physically or otherwise.

At that moment, Raistlin looked up and met Tanis's gaze, returning it defiantly.

"What's really bothering Flint," offered Tanis gently, "is the idea of the Blood Sea. He knows you'll make the journey all right. But he himself has a deadly terror of crossing any body of water, dating back to that unfortunate camping trip on the shores of Crystalmir Lake."

Raistlin gave a low chuckle and sat back down. The weariness of the day's effort settled on him like a great weight. "Perhaps," the young mage said softly.

Some months back, Flint and Tasslehoff had arranged an overnight expedition on the far shores of Crystalmir Lake.

Caramon and Sturm had come along and spent the day learning hunting and tracking skills from the grizzled dwarf. Tasslehoff tagged along with Raistlin, who busied himself searching for herbs and flowers for his spell components. It was on that day, ironically, that Tasslehoff had told Raistlin about his good friend Asa and the unusual minotaur herbalist from Southern Ergoth Asa had spoken of.