Tanis sat down heavily. Flint's brow furrowed.

"It's been over seven weeks since the Venora left Eastport," added Raistlin significantly.

"How do you know it isn't some kind of trick, or one of Tas's pranks?" barked Flint suspiciously. "How can you trust this peddler?"

"It's no trick!" responded Raistlin impatiently, "The peddler only wanted to do the errand and get his coppers. I could see that. He was well-meaning. The message in the bottle held no augury for him."

Flint sighed. He stood and skipped a stone across the surface of placid Lake Crystalmir. Seven skips. Not bad, the dwarf thought to himself with some pride.

Sturm and Caramon-those big oafs were nothing more than overgrown kids, really. They couldn't be counted on to behave sensibly, Flint thought. Why, he had spent hours with them in the woods along these very shores, and all around Solace for that matter, teaching them the lore of the forest. Willing enough pupils, but put them together with Tasslehoff, and…

"So they're a few weeks late," said Flint cautiously. "I don't see what all the bother is."

Raistlin grew solemn. "There's something else… something I should have realized before. You remember that I happened to be with Tasslehoff when his friend Asa told him there was a minotaur herbalist on Southern Ergoth who sold crushed jalopwort in his shop.

"As unlikely as that information seemed, I paid special attention because of an ancient spell I had come across once in one of Morath's spellbooks. Although the pages were crumbling and I couldn't decipher all the phrases, the spell intrigued me."

Tanis watched Raistlin closely. As he had when he first heard this story, the half-elf thought there was some part of the account that Raistlin was keeping to himself.

"I knew that the spell required jalopwort," Raistlin continued, "and that jalopwort is rarely found in these parts. Here was an opportunity to obtain some. Sturm and Caramon volunteered to accompany Tas on a journey to Southern Ergoth to purchase a quantity for me."

"And?" prompted Flint, who was beginning to think that Raistlin was getting awfully long-winded these days. The dwarf knew all about the crushed whatever-it-was and the reasons behind the trip to Southern Ergoth. He took aim and skipped another stone. Nine skips, the dwarf counted with satisfaction.

Raistlin templed his fingers, staring at both of them with that intensity that so unnerved Tanis. "After receiving Tasslehoff's message, I made the journey to Poolbottom yesterday and consulted with the Master Mage. He reminded me of something that I should have taken into account. Jalopwort grows in abundance only on the island of Karthay, a remote and desolate part of the minotaur isles. According to minotaur law, it cannot be transported or sold outside the realm. Minotaur society deems jalopwort sacred. That indicates whoever killed the minotaur herbalist-"

"Argotz," murmured Tanis, remembering.

"Whoever killed Argotz," continued Raistlin, "may have followed Sturm, Caramon, and Tasslehoff and tried to kill them."

Tanis jumped up, eager for an adventure, eager to be doing something, anything but mooning around in Solace. "Then we must go to Vengeance Bay, track these seamen, and force them to tell us what happened to the Venora. If necessary, we'll go to Eastport and look for clues."

Flint looked at his elven friend in horror. "Go to Vengeance Bay… Eastport?" the dwarf sputtered. He was worried about his friends, but this seemed a little hasty. Flint had been thinking of taking a summer trip, but somewhere nice and quiet and alone up in the mountains, not to the rowdy, crowded towns of the seacoast.

"No," Raistlin said flatly. "It has been over ten days since the peddler was in Vengeance Bay. And Eastport would yield nothing. It would be a fruitless chase."

"Listen to Raistlin," agreed Flint hurriedly. "It wouldn't make any sense."

Raistlin gestured impatiently. "And remember, the sailors were celebrating with minotaur coin," the mage said. "No, it wouldn't make any sense to head to the west, because if I am right, the danger to my brother and our friends lies far, far to the east. That is where we must go as quickly as possible. To the Blood Sea and the minotaur isles."

"To the Blood Sea?" gasped Flint. His face lost color. He had to sit down to absorb the shock.

"The minotaur isles?'' asked a surprised Tanis. "But they're thousands of miles away, several months of arduous land travel. Even if Sturm, Caramon and Tasslehoff have been taken there, if they're in danger, we could never hope to arrive in time."

"How the devil would they get from the Straits of Schallsea to the minotaur isles in so short a time?" asked a bewildered Flint.

"I don't know how," admitted Raistlin. "Probably by some highly evolved magic. But if they are alive, that is where they are. This I believe. And I am going to go there and try to find them. The only thing I want to know is are you going to come with me?"

"How?" asked Tanis again. "How can we possibly hope to cover such a distance?"

The mage's eyes glittered excitedly. "When I spoke with Morath, he told me of an oracle who lives near Darken-wood and knows of a portal that could take us, in the matter of heartbeats, to Ogrebond on the coast of the Blood Sea."

"Ogrebond!" muttered Flint disconsolately.

"From there, we would have to make our own way by hiring a ship and crossing the Blood Sea to the minotaur kingdom."

"Oh, no!" Flint threw up his hands. "I'm not crossing any Blood Sea! I've heard all about the Blood Sea!" He pointed out across peaceful Crystalmir Lake. "Maybe," he continued, "just maybe, I'd cross Crystalmir Lake to rescue my friends, but maybe I wouldn't, either. It would depend on my mood and which friends they happened to be. But you're not going to get me into a boat to cross the Blood Sea no matter what portal or which friends or how many coppers you gave some shrewd roving peddler!"

Raistlin paid little attention to the grizzled dwarf, who was making a great show of stomping around kicking rocks and tree stumps. He stared intently at Tanis. The half-elf shifted uncomfortably under Raistlin's gaze. Tanis guessed the mage knew more than he was telling them, but he didn't doubt his genuine purpose. He knew that if Raistlin believed it to be so, then Sturm, Caramon, and Tas were indeed in trouble.

After a long silence, Tanis stood and extended his hand in agreement. "They would risk their lives for us," said the half-elf solemnly, "and we owe as much to them."

Raistlin gave him a nod of thanks.

"What about Kit?" Tanis asked, thinking of her all of a sudden. "Don't you think one of us should make an effort to contact her?"

"I have already sent her a message," said Raistlin. "Don't worry about Kitiara. If she can meet up with us, she will."

"But where is she?" persisted Tanis. "Maybe I-"

Raistlin cut him off with a look.

Flint stood near the shore, glowering, holding a perfectly round, flat stone in his hand. He sailed it out over the water. It skipped once, twice, then sank. A bad omen, he was certain.

The stocky dwarf came over to Raistlin and Tanis, who were waiting for his decision. He looked them both in the face, certain he was staring at two fools.

He extended his thick, right arm and laid his knotty hand over Tanis's and Raistlin's. "I just want to make one thing clear," the dwarf growled to the mage. "I'm doing this for Sturm and your brother, not for that blasted kender!"

Raistlin had told them to pack food, weapons, clothing, climbing equipment, and other essentials. Flint got little sleep that night, packing and repacking his haversack, sharpening his axe and knife, and muttering to himself about what a fool he was. Just before dawn, a knock sounded at the door, and there stood Tanis, all packed for the trip and grinning broadly. What put the half-elf in such a blasted good mood? Flint wondered.