Just then Raistlin appeared in their path. His clothing was ripped and disheveled. One eye was already swelling shut, and his upper lip was bleeding.

"Who did this to you?" Caramon demanded.

Raist, his lower lip trembling, pushed past them into the cottage without saying anything. Inside, Rosamun fell on him instantly, exclaiming and weeping. She sat him in a chair and wiped at his lip and scratches. Caramon paced up and down in front of the door, swearing revenge. Kit stood off to one side, watching everything anxiously.

Afterward, Rosamun retreated to her room, and Raistlin and Caramon started quarreling.

"If I had been with you, this never would have happened," said Caramon, puffing out his chest.

"Don't be ridiculous. This is between me and-"

"Caramon, calm down," Kit commanded. "Now, Raist, tell us what happened. I think we can all agree that any revenge devised by all three of us will be three times as sweet as anything you can concoct by yourself." Her tone brooked no argument.

"I was on my way home from school, on the outskirts of Solace where there's that stand of young trees," Raistlin began slowly. "I had just entered the shade of that grove from the bright sunlight, and my eyes were still adjusting to the dimness so I'm not sure exactly what happened. But someone or something pounced on me from above at the same time that I tripped, I think over a rope drawn tight across the path. I hit my face on some rocks as I fell down, which is how I got the cut lip.

"Before my head had cleared, my hands and feet were tied up. I saw who was tying me-it was Dune Wister. His brother, Bronk, was with him. They made fun of me for being a magic-user. They looked in my pockets for anything of value. There wasn't any gold or silver, of course, but they took the pouches you gave me, for holding my spell components, and they filled them instead with… bat dung. They ran off laughing, and it took a while for me to get untied."

For an instant Raist looked as if he were about to cry, then he fiercely blinked back the tears.

"Those scum!" Caramon exploded.

"Quiet!" snapped Kitiara.

"Dune and Caramon are in the same class at the village school," Raist continued. "Dune's just like his brother, a pint-sized bully. Every time he sees us, he makes a crack about Mother." Raistlin's voice dropped a notch in the telling.

"Tell her about the last time," urged Caramon.

"The last time," said Raistlin, shooting a glance at his brother, "I was ready. We haven't learned many spells at Poolbottom yet, just some simple illusions. There was one that only called for dried beetle wings, which are easy enough to get, so I was carrying some with me. So as soon as Dune started saying something about Mother, I had Caramon pin him down and I made the spell. Every time he opened his mouth to say something, bugs fell out." Raistlin and Caramon grinned at the memory.

"Bugs?" repeated Kit.

"You know, beetles and ants, centipedes and flies. Dune couldn't open his mouth without spitting out bugs. The spell was supposed to last for a couple hours, so I don't think he had much fun teasing anyone the rest of that day."

Despite his scratches and swollen lip, Raist looked slyly pleased with himself. Caramon, though, had stopped grinning. "We ought to settle this my way," he declared vehemently, "We're three against two. Bronk and Dune won't dare jump Raist again."

Raistlin glared at his twin, but Kit spoke first.

"One good brain is worth more than a dozen stout warriors," she said emphatically. That was one of Gregor's maxims, and the twins had heard Kitiara repeat it before.

"Come here," she said, drawing her younger brothers close in a huddle. "I have an idea."

The sun had just risen when Kit slipped the note under the door. She hoped that, as the oldest, Bronk was up first to help with the chores. If Aureleen had been right all those months ago, Bronk wouldn't be able to resist an invitation from Kitiara, even if what little common sense he had told him the circumstances were suspicious.

My heart's beating quickened when I saw you the other day. Meet me at the end of the path to Crystalmir Lake tonight at dusk.

Affection, Kitiara

Pleading aches and pains from the previous day, Raist stayed home from Poolbottom. Gilon raised his eyebrows at the excuse, for Raist had always been eager to go to school, even on days when he'd had a raging fever. But Gilon was preoccupied with his own concerns, and Raist's acting job convinced him.

After solicitously serving the twins breakfast, Rosamun, her strength depleted, dozed in her favorite chair.

Kit, Raist, and Caramon spent the day coming and going on mysterious errands. After one final whispered conference between the three of them in the late afternoon, Kit disappeared with a bundle under her arm. Not one of the three came home for supper, and Rosamun became very worried.

"Don't fret," said Gilon, when he returned to the cottage. "They must be up to something." He stroked his wife's white hair soothingly. But Gilon was worried, too.

Kit had found a vantage point on a hill overlooking the path down to the lake and was keeping watch. As she expected, Bronk showed up a good hour before sunset, nervously checking the area for any traps. He made a more thorough job of it than she would have guessed, then settled down on a stump at the edge of the sand leading down to the water.

Bad luck. Earlier that day the twins had tethered a line to the far side of that exact stump, burying it under the sand and running it down into the water. Kit didn't want Bronk to start poking around the stump, so quickly she shrugged out of her tunic and leggings, then unrolled the bundle from home.

A gauzy, flowered dress, one of Rosamun's old ones, fluttered in the lively breeze. Kit regarded the garment with some distaste, then slipped it on. The rich colors set off her dark hair.

Bronk had started to idly dig into the sand with the toe of his boot. Kit looked up the path toward Solace. No sign of the twins, yet she had no choice but to begin the charade.

Making certain Bronk did not see her, Kitiara hurriedly crept around to the back of the hill where she had been perched, then stepped onto the path. Fortunately, he caught sight of her right away and stopped his idle digging.

She sighed with relief. "I'm so glad you came, Bronk," Kit murmured. "I didn't think it was going to be so dark on the path down here."

Bronk mistook her sigh for a flirtatious gesture. When she glided closer to him, Kit could see that his mouth was hanging open. He was definitely off his guard.

"Gee, I, uh, I… what's all the mystery, Kitiara?" he stammered, thrusting out his chest and striking a virile pose.

"Well," Kit began, "it's just that I haven't seen you for an awfully long time."

"You've been gone," Bronk said, sounding a little miffed. He glanced around nervously. "Everybody wondered where you went. Nobody knew for sure. Not even your brothers, I don't think. Where'd you go anyway?"

"What does it matter?" she said, lowering her head. She tried some sniffling. "It's all over anyway."

"What's over?" he demanded to know.

"What does it matter?" Kit repeated mysteriously. Sniffle, sniffle.

Bronk sidled over and clumsily put his arm around her shoulder.

Where were Caramon and Raist? How long was she going to have to put up with this dunce and keep him dangling around this tree stump!

"Well," Bronk said petulantly, "I'm glad you realized the error of your ways. I always thought that us… that is, you and me… I mean, even if I don't like your dumb brothers, I always thought that you and me could be friends. More than friends."