The morning of Raist's visit to the master mage, Caramon still lay in bed, all tangled up in the bedding, as if he had been dreaming about wrestling with a serpent. He had protested when Gilon told him he would be staying behind, but his arguments had died quickly when Rosamun promised they would bake sunflower seed muffins.

Rosamun was in the midst of one of her longer periods of good health. She had begun to dress up a little, to comb her hair regularly, and to set it off with beads and flowers. For weeks her face, usually so tense and lined with worry, had been more relaxed and almost happy.

Kit's mother stood by the kitchen table now, preparing tea for the trio of travelers. Kit avoided her mother's solicitous gaze as she went over to take a warm mug. When Rosamun turned to tend to the fire, Gilon, who had just emerged from the bedroom, drew Kit aside.

"Caramon knows to run and get Bigardus if Rosamun… if… you know…" he trailed off, looking at Kit anxiously.

"If she goes off her head, you mean," Kit said bluntly, ignoring the look of hurt that crossed Gilon's face. "Yes. Caramon may not be able to do anything else for Mother, but he certainly knows how to run.

"And," she added, seeing Gilon's anxiety mounting, "it wouldn't take him much time to get to Bigardus's and back, as long as he doesn't run into one of his dumb friends and-"

"Perhaps we shouldn't go," Gilon said. "I mean, if you think your mother won't be all right or that Caramon can't manage without us…" He lifted his hands questioningly.

It had been Gilon's idea to pay a visit to the mage school today. Kit's stepfather had spent two long evenings at the kitchen table, laboring over a letter to the master mage asking for permission to enroll Raist. He had searched his brain for the right wording, the proper tone. But he was not satisfied with any one of his dozen drafts, and at the end of the second night he had stood up and crumpled his latest effort into the fire.

"Letters are so cold," he had declared. He would go himself to make a plea for his youngest child. Then the master mage could see for himself what a gifted pupil Raist would make.

The mage school was mysteriously situated on the outskirts of Solace, its location a source of rumor and gossip, and Kit did not know anyone who could make a credible claim to have actually been there. Yet Gilon, with his simple, stubborn nature, was determined to go. Kit knew Gilon wanted to get Raist's future "settled" as much as she did, if for different reasons.

"No, no. Caramon can manage fine. It's Rosamun who can't. We'll just have to keep our fingers crossed," she reassured Gilon-without comforting him much.

During this whispered exchange, Caramon had woken up and trudged sleepily over to the table, where Rosamun was coaxing Raist to eat some porridge. Kit watched her mother turn toward Caramon with a loving smile and hug him before serving up a generous bowl of porridge. Caramon dug into his portion eagerly, asking, with his mouth full, what else there was to eat.

Both boys watched their mother avidly, obviously delighted to have her up and about. Rosamun glanced up from her duties and met Kit's judgmental gaze.

"Kitiara, won't you have something to eat before you leave? You have a busy morning ahead, and who knows what hospitality you will find at your destination," Rosamun said kindly.

"Don't worry about me, Mother." Kit must have put an edge on the word that caused Rosamun to flinch. "I've packed some bread and cheese, enough for me, Gilon, and Raist. I know how to fend for myself-I've been doing just that for years. Don't start worrying about me now."

Flushing, Rosamun turned back to the twins. Caramon, busy shoveling porridge into his mouth, hadn't paid any attention to the exchange, but Raistlin, ever observant, had been listening with a frown.

Gilon stepped in from the outside, breaking the tension. "Hurry up, Raist. We want to arrive early enough so that the master mage will have time to see us. Kitiara, are you ready?"

Raistlin slipped off his chair, had his face wiped by Rosamun, and joined Gilon at the door. Kit tied a rope around the sack of food she had prepared and slung it over her shoulder. Gilon planted a gentle kiss on Rosamun's forehead, then hesitated, obviously torn about leaving her and Caramon for the day.

Rosamun, looking the very image of a typical, if slightly disheveled, homebody, shrugged off his concern affectionately. "Go on," she urged. "We'll be just fine."

As they filed out the door, Caramon had already pulled out a mortar and pestle from the kitchen cabinet and was kneeling on a chair next to the eating table, determinedly grinding sunflower seeds while his mother looked on, beaming with approval.

The last to leave, Kitiara took in the domestic scene before closing the door, gripped by envy as well as resentment. She hated the way the twins and Gilon doted on Rosamun during her "normal" periods. If her mother had ever spent any special time with Kit, it was so long ago she could not remember it.

The trio descended along the ropeways and ramps between the vallenwoods toward one of the paths that wound through the trunks of the giant trees and to the southern outskirts of Solace. Kit, who had not helped herself to any breakfast back at the cottage, pulled a piece of black bread and cheese from her pack and began munching as she walked.

Dropping back alongside her, Gilon spoke to Kit in a lowered voice, out of Raist's earshot. "Though I have never been there, I judge it to be a good hour's walk to where the master mage is said to keep his school. Will Raist be all right? Should we rest halfway? We don't want him to be too tired once he gets there."

Kit eyed the slight figure walking dutifully in front of them. His curious eyes roamed the sky, the treetops, the side of the path, picking out things that intrigued him. He paid no attention to Kit and Gilon and imagined himself the bold leader of their little expedition.

"If he looks like he's tiring, we can take turns carrying him on our backs," Kit said, adding under her breath, "it won't be the first time." Though Raistlin resembled his sister, especially his deep brown eyes, he had none of her wiry strength.

The early morning was warm, with the songs of birds returning from their winter migrations carried on welcome breezes. Kit felt her spirits lift as she headed toward the ancient bridge that spanned Solace Stream. They soon veered off the road. Gilon knew a shortcut through the forest that lined the edge of Crystalmir Lake, one that would help them reach their destination more quickly.

Before long, the three of them emerged from the shadows of the vallenwoods into less wooded, hilly country. Raist continued to trod ahead of Kitiara and Gilon, showing no signs that his energy was flagging. He really must be excited about this, Kit thought to herself.

Three quarters of an hour passed with very little conversation between them. Single file, they followed a narrow, pebbly path that snaked through the tall yellow grass and wildflowers that heralded spring. Little crawling creatures scuttled across the path in front of them, and wild game flew up out of nowhere. The land was beautiful, and its natural harmony had a blissful effect on the travelers.

Kit was daydreaming about her father when a loud declaration from Raist jolted her back to the present. Raist was skipping between Kit and Gilon, tugging at their sleeves and exclaiming as he pointed. "Look, look, there it is! The school!"

A rocky outcropping had risen out of the contoured landscape the same way a small island seems to appear, without warning, out of the sea. A moment before, they hadn't seen it. The glare of the sun meant they had to shade their eyes. The rocks formed a steep hill, its dimensions lost in the haze of the sun. It was bleached of color, its sides littered with limestone boulders, its top obscured from view. Kitiara had to blink to be certain of what she was seeing.