Dragonlance 15 - Dragons Of A Fallen Sun (56 page)

"Nothing. Never mind," Palin said, not wanting to enter into

long ,xplanations involving the death of a dream. "Come along.

We have no time to was-"

"Look!" Tas cried, pointing. "Someone's walking around

there. I'm going to go look!"

He was off, his bright shirt tail fluttering behind him, his top-

knot bouncing with glee.

"Come back-" Palin began and then realized he might as

well save his breath.

Tas was right. Someone was indeed walking around the ruins

of the academy and Palin wondered who it might be. The resi-

dents of Solace considered the place cursed and never went there

for any reason. The person was wearing long robes; Palin caught

a glimpse of crimson fabric beneath a gold-trimmed beige cloak.

This could, of course, be some former student, come back to gaze

in nostalgia at his wrecked place of learning, but Palin doubted

it. By the graceful walk and the rich dress, he realized that this

was Jenna.

Mistress Jenna of Palanthas had been a powerful red-robed

wizardess in the days before the Chaos War. An extraordinarily

beautiful woman, she was reputed to have been the lover of

Dalamar the Dark, pupil of Raistlin Majere and once Master of

the Tower of High Sorcery at Palanthas. Jenna had earned her

living by running a mageware shop in Palanthas. Her shop had

done moderately well during the Fourth Age, when magic had

been a gift granted to people by the three gods, Solinari, Luni-

tari, and Nuitari. She carried the usual assorted spell compo-

nents: bat guano, butterfly wings, sulphur, rose leaves (whole

and crushed), spider eggs, and so forth. She had a good supply

of potions and was known to have the best collection of spell

scrolls and books outside the Tower of Wayreth, all to be had for

a price. She was particularly renowned for her collection of

magical artifacts: rings, bracers, daggers, swords, pendants,

charms, amulets. These were the artifacts on display. She had

other, more potent, more dangerous, more powerful artifacts,

which she kept hidden away, to be shown only to serious cus-

tomers and that by appointment.

When the Chaos War came, Jenna had joined Dalamar and a

white-robed mage on a perilous mission to help defeat the ram-

paging Father of the Gods. She never spoke of what befell them

on that terrible journey. All Palin knew was that on their return

Dalamar had been critically wounded. He had lain near death in

his tower for many long weeks.

Jenna had been his constant companion and nurse until the

day when she walked out of the tower, never to return. For on

that night, the Tower of High Sorcery at Palanthas was de~troyed

in a magical blast. No one ever saw Dalamar again. After many

years had passed and he had not returned, the Conclave pro-

nounced him officially dead. Mistress Jenna reopened her mage-

ware shop and discovered that she was sitting on a treasure

trove.

With the magic of the gods vanished, desperate mages had

sought ways to hold onto their power. They discovered that

magical artifacts crafted in the Fourth Age retained their power.

The only drawback was that sometimes this power was erratic,

did not act as expected. A magical sword, once an artifact of

good, suddenly began to slay those it was meant to protect. A

ring of invisibility failed its owner at a critical moment, landing

the thief five years in a Sanction dungeon. No one knew the

reason. Some said the unreliability was due to the fact that the

gods no longer had influence over them, others said that it had

nothing to do with the gods. Artifacts were always known to be

tricky objects to handle.

Buyers were more than willing to take the risk, however, and

the demand for Fourth Age artifacts soared higher than a

gnomish steam-driven mechanical flapjack-flipping device. Mis-

tress Jenna's prices rose to match. She was now, at the age of

sixty-something, one of the wealthiest women in Ansalon. Still

beautiful, though her beauty had ripened, she had retained her

influence and power even under the rule of the Knights of

Neraka, whose commanders found her charming, fascinating,

mysterious, and accommodating. She paid no attention to those

who termed her "collaborator." Jenna had long been accustomed

to playing both ends against the middle, knew how to fool the

middle and the ends into thinking each was getting the best of

the bargain.

Mistress Jenna was also the acknowledged expert in Ansalon

on Fourth Age magical artifacts.

Palin could not go immediately to greet her. The griffon com-

plained again of hunger. The beast was, in fact, eyeing the kender

avariciously, obviously considering Tas a toothsome morsel. Palin

pro~ed he would send back a haunch of venison. This satisfied

the griffon, who began to preen herself, pleased at having

reached her destination.

Palin went off in pursuit of Tasslehoff, who was happily pick-

ing his way through the rubble, turning over rocks to see what

was underneath and exclaiming over every find.

Jenna had been strolling around the grounds of the ruined

academy. Curious herself to see what the kender had discovered,

she walked over to look.

Tas lifted his head, stared at the mage for long moments and

then, with a glad cry, he jumped up and ran straight for her with

arms outstretched.

Jenna quickly extended both hands, palms outward. Light

flashed from one of several rings she wore, and Tas stumbled

backward as if he'd run headlong into a brick wall.

"Keep your distance, Kender," she said calmly.

"But, Jenna!" Tas cried, rubbing his nose and eyeing the

rings with interest, "don't you recognize me? It's Tasslehoff!

Tasslehoff Burrfoot. We met in Palanthas during the ~haos War,

only a few days ago for me, but I guess for you its been years

and years Icause you're a lot older now. A lot older," he added

with emphasis. 1'1 came to your mageware shop and. . ." Tas

prattled on.

Jenna kept her hands stretched outward, regarding the kender

with amusement-a pleasant distraction. She obviously did not

believe a word he was saying.

Hearing footsteps crunch on rock, Jenna turned her i\ead

quickly. I'Palin!" She smiled to see him. ~

"Jenna." He bowed in respect. "I am pleased you could find

the time to come."

"My dear, if what you intimated to me is true, I would not

have missed this for all the treasure in Istar. You will excuse me if

I do not shake hands, but I am keeping this kender at bay."

"How was your journey?"

"Long." She rolled her eyes. "My ring of teleportation"-she

indicated a large ring of sparkling amethyst set in silver that she

wore on her thumb-"used to take me from one end of the conti-

nent to another in a flash. Now it takes me two days to travel

from Palanthas to Solace."

" And what are you doing here at the academy?" Palin asked,

glancing around. "If you're looking for artifacts, don't bother. We

salvaged what we could."

Jenna shook her head. "No, I was just taking a walk. I stopped

by your house," she added with an arch glance. "Your wife was

there, and she was not overly pleased to see me. Finding the re-

ception a bit chilly indoors, I decided I would prefer a walk in the

sunshine." She looked around in her turn, shook her head sadly.

"I had not been here since the destruction. They did a thorough

job. You're not going to rebuild?"

"Why should I?" Palin shrugged. His tone was bitter. "What

use does anyone have for an Academy of Sorcery if there is no

more sorcery? Tas," he said abruptly, "Usha is at home. Why

don't you go surprise her?" Turning, he pointed to a large house

which could barely be seen for the tall trees surrounding it.

"There is our house-"

"I know!" Tasslehoff said excitedly. "I was there the first time

I went to Caramon's funeral. Does Usha paint wonderful pictures

like she did then?"

"Why don't you go ask her yourself?" Palin said irritably.

Tas glanced at the rubble and appeared undecided.

"Usha would be very hurt if you didn't go to see her," Palin

added.

"Yes, you're right," Tas replied, making up his mind. "I

wouldn't do anything to hurt her. We are great friends. Besides,

I can always come back here later. Good-bye, Jenna!" He started

to extend his hand, thought better of it. "And thanks for mag-

icking me. That hasn't happened to me in a long time. I really

enjoyed it."

"Odd little fellow," remarked Jenna, gazing after Tas, who

was running pell-mell down the hillside. "He looks and talks

very much like the kender I knew as Tasslehoff Burrfoot. One

would almost think he is Tasslehoff."

"He is," said Palin.

Jenna shifted her gaze to him. "Oh, come now." She scruti-

nized him more closely. "By the lost gods, I believe that you are

serious. Tasslehoff Burrfoot died-"

"I know!" Palin said impatiently. "Thirty-odd years ago. Or

thereabouts. I'm sorry, Jenna." He sighed. "It's been a long

night. Beryl found out about the artifact. We were ambushed by

Neraka Knights. The kender and I barely escaped with our lives,

andJhe Solamnic who brought Tas to me didn't escape at all.

Then we were attacked in the air by one of Beryl's greens. We es-

caped the dragon only by making a harrowing flight into a

thunderstorm."

"You should get some sleep," Jenna advised, regarding him

with concern.

"I can't sleep," Palin returned, rubbing his eyes, which were

red-rimmed and burning. "My thoughts are in turmoil, they give

me no rest. We need to talk!" he added in a kind of frantic des-

peration.

"That's why I am here, my friend," Jenna said. "But you

should at least eat something. Let us go to your house and drink

a glass of wine. Say hello to your wife, who has just returned her-

self from what I gather was a very harrowing journey herself."

Palin grew calmer. He smiled at her wanly. "Yes, you are

right, as usual. It's just. . ." He paused, thinking what to say and

how to say it. "That is the real Tasslehoff, Jenna. I'm convinced of

it. And he has been to a future that is not ours, a future in which

the great dragops do not exist. A future where the world is at

peace. He has brought with him the device he used to travel to

that future."

Jenna gazed at him searchingly and intently. Seeing that he

was in earnest, utterly serious, her eyes darkened, narrowed with

interest.

"Yes," she said at last. "We do need to talk." She took his arm,

they walked side by side.

"Tell me everything, Palin," she said. ~

The Majeres' house was a large structure that had once be- (!,~

longed to a Master Theobald, the man who had taught Raistlin

Majere magic. Caramon had purchased the house at the master's

death, in memory of his brother, and had given the house as gift

to Palin and Usha when they were married. Here their children

had been born and grown up, going off on adventures of their

own. Palin had transformed the classroom where the young

Raistlin had once droned through his lessons into a studio for his

wife, a portrait painter of some renown throughout Solamnia and

Abanasinia. He continued to use the master's old laboratory for

his studies.

Tasslehoff had spoken truly when he told Palin that he

remembered the house from Caramon's first funeral. He did

remember the house-it hadn't changed. But Palin certainly

had.

"I suppose having your fingers all mangled would give you

a mangled view of life," Tas was saying to Usha as he sat with

her in the kitchen, eating a large bowl of oatmeal. "That must be

the reason, because at Caramon's first funeral, Palin's fingers

were just fine and so was he. He was cheerful and happy. Well,

maybe not happy, because poor Caramon had just died and no

one could feel truly happy. But Palin was happy underneath. So

that when he was over being sad, I knew he would be happy

again. But now he's terribly unhappy, so unhappy that he can't

even be sad."

"I . . . I suppose so," Usha murmured.

The kitchen was a large one with a high, beamed ceiling and

an enormous stone fireplace, charred and blackened with years of

use. A pot hung from a black chain in the center of the fireplace.

Usha sat across from the kender at a large, butcher-block table

used for chopping the heads off chickens and such, or so Tas sup-

posed. Right now it was washed clean, no headless chickens lying

about. But then it was only midmoming. Dinnertime was a long

way off.

Usha was staring at him just like all the rest of them-as if

he'd grown two heads or maybe was headless altogether, like the

chickens. She had been staring at him that way ever since his

arrival, when he had thrown open the front door (remembering

to knock afterward), and cried out, "Usha! It's me, Tas! I haven't

been stepped on by the giant yet!"

Usha Majere had been a lovely young woman. Age had en-