"But they'll want to know. They'll ask questions. What do I say?" Caramon was clearly unhappy. "I don't like

keeping secrets, Raist."

"Then you do not belong with me. Go back!" Raistlin said coldly and waved his hand. "Go back to your friends. I

have no need of you." "Yes, you do, Raist," Caramon said. "You know you do."

Raistlin paused. His steady gaze caught his brother's and held it. This was the decisive moment, the moment on

which their future depended.

"Then you must make a choice, my brother. You must either pledge yourself to me or return to your friends."

Raistlin held

up his hand, halting his brother's quick answer. "Think about it, Caramon. If you remain with me, you must trust

me completely, obey me implicitly, ask no questions, keep my secrets far better than you keep your own. Well,

which will it be?"

Caramon didn't hesitate. "I'm with you, Raist," he said simply. "You're my twin brother.We belong together.

It was meant to be this way."

"Perhaps," Raistlin said with a bitter smile. If that were true, he wondered very much who meant it and why.

He'd like to have a talk with them someday.

"Come along then, my brother. Follow me."

According to Master Theobald, the mageware shop was located at the very end of Herbalists Street, on the

left-hand side as you faced the north. Standing at some distance from the rest of the shops and dwellings, it was

tucked back by itself amid a grove of oak trees.

Theobald had described it. "The shop is located on the lower floor of the house, living quarters above. It is

difficult to see from the road. Oak trees surround it, as does a large walled-in garden. You will see the sign

outside, however-a wooden board painted with an eye in colors of red, black, and white.

"I've never had any business there myself. I acquire everything I need from the Tower at Wayreth, you know,"

Master Theobald had added, with a sniff. "However, I'm sure Lemuel has some small items that mages of low

rank might find valuable."

If Raistlin had learned nothing else from Theobald, he had learned to hold his tongue. He swallowed the

caustic retort he would have once made, thanked the master politely, and was rewarded with the following bit of

information, which might prove of inestimable value.

"I've heard that Lemuel has an interest in weeds the same as you," Theobald said. "You two should get along

well."

Consequently Raistlin had brought with him a couple of rare species of plants he'd discovered, dug up, and

carried home, and now had seedlings to share. He hoped in this way to curry Lemuel's favor, and if the books

Raistlin wanted proved beyond his means, perhaps he might persuade their owner to lower the price.

The twins walked the length of Herbalists Street; Caramon taking his new duties and responsibilities with such

extreme seriousness that he nearly tripped on his brother's heels in order to guard him, glared balefully at anyone

who glanced twice at them, and rattled his sword constantly.

Raistlin sighed to himself over this, but he knew there was nothing he could do. Remonstrating with his brother,

urging Caramon to relax and not be so conspicuous, would probably only confuse him. Eventually Caramon would fit

comfortably into his role as bodyguard, but it would take time. Raistlin would just have to be patient.

Fortunately there were not that many people on the street to see them, since most of the herbalists were in the

process of setting up stalls on the fairgrounds. On reaching the end of the street,they found it abandoned, no people

in sight. Raistlin located the mageware shop easily enough. It was the only building on the left side of the road. Oak

trees hid it from view, and there was the garden with its high stone wall. The sign of a mageware shop, the sign of the

eye, was missing, however. The door was shut up tight, the windows were closed. The house might have been

abandoned, but on peering over the wall, Raistlin saw that the garden was well tended.

"Are you sure this is the place?" Caramon asked."Yes, my brother. Perhaps the sign blew down in a storm."

"If you say so," Caramon muttered. He had his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Let me go to the door, then."

"Absolutely not!" Raistlin said, alarmed. "The sight of you, scowling and waving that sword around, would scare

any wizard witless. He might turn you into a frog or something worse. Wait here in the road until I call for you. Don't

worry. There's nothing wrong," Raistlin said with more assurance than he truly felt.