Captain Nugetre says we are no more than half a day from the coast of Karthay, even at the slow pace we must now maintain. The Castor is a crippled ship. Only round-the-clock bailing shifts keep us afloat, a strain on the crew, which has been halved by our experiences. Flint, Raistlin, Kirsig, and I pitch in.

Although the journey across the Blood Sea has been as fast as anyone could have hoped, the captain says that he isn't sure that the fee makes up for the damage to his ship and crew.

"I will not take the chance of making the landing at Karthay," Captain Nugetre announced. "I won't incur any further risks. I will give you a small boat to row to shore. Consider yourselves fortunate at that."

Despite Kirsig's best entreaties, Captain Nugetre has refused to budge from his position.

Raistlin paid him his double fee and didn't press him about the landing. The captain has more than kept his part of the bargain, Raistlin said, thanking him.

Kirsig announced her intention to come with us. Flint tried to talk her out of it-unsuccessfully. She insisted that she wouldn't abandon her "pretty dwarf."

More of a surprise was that Yuril announced her desire to join us. Captain Nugetre raged at her, but to no effect. The first mate said that she owed us her life-at least twice over-and that she intended to help us fulfill our quest. The captain seemed saddened as well as angry at her decision. Not for the first time did I get the idea that these two at some time had been more than captain and ship's mate to each other.

Three of the sailors, all female and more loyal to Yuril than to Captain Nugetre, said they would come along as well.

That made eight, and the furious Nugetre had to promise us two small boats in order to land us ashore.

The potion worked wonderfully. Most assuredly, Tasslehoff Burrfoot had been changed into an evil kender. There could be no question about that. From his former topknot to his toes, Tas was thoroughly evil.

The minotaur guards weren't so sure they didn't like Tas better the way he was before, before Fesz, the shaman minotaur and the high emissary of the Nightmaster, had fed him the potion that perverted his true kender nature.

Of course, they couldn't be called Tasslehoff's guards anymore, not strictly speaking. Glorying in his new evilness, Tas had been upgraded from prisoner to honored guest of the minotaur king. He occupied privileged quarters on an upper floor of the palace, a spacious room of plush and velvet with a balcony overlooking the sprawling, seedy city of Lacynos.

Across the hall was another privileged guest room, even more privileged and roomier, that had been set aside for Fesz, who needed to be close to Tas on account of their growing friendship and frequent consultations.

A small number of minotaur guards still stood outside Tas's room in the hallway. They were ordered to keep Tas from leaving the premises without escort or authorization, but they were also ordered not to act like guards. Instead, they were to act friendly and do the kender's bidding, and they dared not disobey.

The evil kender was ten times the nuisance that the good kender had been-that is, if anyone would have called Tas "good" in the first place. Worse than a nuisance, in the unanimous opinion of the minotaur guards, Tas was downright… well, evil.

Since the guards were his to order around, Tas made sure they were kept busy attending to his every whim. And Tas had plenty of whims, one for every minute of the day, it seemed.

In his evilness, Tas had decided that he would like to take three hot baths each day at strictly appointed intervals. It was hard work, even for the minotaur guards, to organize the baths and heft the hot water buckets up the several flights of stairs leading to the privileged guest quarters three times a day.

And woe betide them if the water wasn't hot enough. If it wasn't, Tas would throw a terrible tantrum, hitting them over the head with the empty bucket or poking them in the eyes with a curtain rod, the best poking weapon he had at his disposal. Or he would curse them with an amazing litany of taunts. Some of the guards could barely restrain themselves, having to take insults and orders from a kender. But take it they did, and after the hitting and poking and taunting, they usually had to slink out and start all over again, praying to get the bathwater hot enough next time.

Because he was a bit bored being cooped up all day, every day in his privileged quarters, Tasslehoff also decided that he wanted the room redone and painted in more pleasing colors. He didn't like its present off-white, but it was very difficult for Tas to decide precisely which color, or colors, the room ought to be.

First he ordered two of the guards to repaint his room a deep indigo blue-by sundown. Afterward, staring at the deep indigo blue that covered the floor, walls, and ceiling, Tas almost fell asleep. So he decided that deep indigo blue was a tad too lulling.

He ordered the same two guards to repaint the room a bright crimson-by sundown of the next day. The guards grumbled and swore, especially because Tas poked at them, swatted their heads, and berated them as they slaved to meet the deadline.

Bright crimson kept the kender wide awake at night. So Tas decided that the floor could stay crimson, if it was covered with some rugs-he wouldn't be noticing the floor much at night anyway-but the walls ought to be some substantial color, like orange, while the ceiling ought to be some profoundly evil color, like midnight black.

The same two minotaur guards, because they had done such a good job the first two times and also because they had done such a bad job the first two times, were selected to repaint Tasslehoff's room again.

All the minotaur guards complained bitterly among themselves about Tasslehoff. No matter why or when they entered the kender's quarters, they were likely to be struck by some flying object or tackled from behind or tripped by wire strung across their path. Insults-the worst insults Tas could think of, comparisons to dumb cows and dull-horned bulls-poured out nonstop. Food was rejected and tossed in their faces.

Dogz, the only minotaur who managed to avoid being poked or insulted, sadly remembered the good old Tasslehoff, before he had turned evil.

Tasslehoff Burrfoot is a valued minion of the Nightmaster," Fesz had declared. And the minotaur guards dared not disagree.

To Fesz, Tas's hostile and aggressive behavior was proof positive that the kender had turned evil. And if his obnoxious behavior wasn't evidence enough, Tasslehoff also had proved extremely cooperative in telling Fesz a great deal about the thin, intelligent mage from Solace who had sent him to Southern Ergoth to obtain the rare jalopwort from a minotaur herbalist.

Tas also told Fesz all about his good friends, Flint and Tanis Half-Elven, and his Uncle Trapspringer, and the time he, Tas, had almost captured a woolly mammoth single-handedly. He told him about poor Sturm and Caramon, probably carcasses picked over by spiny fish at the bottom of the Blood Sea by now. It was good riddance to bad rubbish, because they were honorable and pure and wouldn't fit in with the kender's new way of looking at the world as something to be stomped on and mashed and conquered.

Indeed, the kender loved to talk about his friends-"ex-friends," he sometimes corrected himself. He especially loved to talk about the dwarf, Flint Fireforge. So much did he love to talk about Flint that occasionally Fesz had to put his arm around the kender and gently steer him back to the subject of Raistlin Majere, the enemy of the minotaur race and therefore, Fesz reminded him, an enemy of Tas's.