on tables and shelves. A small room in back provided sleeping quarters.

Flint had an ideal location, about halfway into the fairgrounds, near the brightly colored tent of an elven flute

maker. Flint complained a lot about the constant flute music that resonated from the tent, but Tanis pointed out

that it drew customers their direction, so the dwarf kept his grumbling to himself. Whenever Tanis caught Flint

tapping his toe to the music, the dwarf would maintain that his foot had gone to sleep and he was only attempting

to revive it.

There were some forty or fifty vendors at the fair, plus various venues for entertainment: beer tents and food

vendors, dancing bears, games of chance designed to part the gullible from their steel, rope walkers, jugglers, and

minstrels.

Inside the grounds, those merchants who had already

arrived had unpacked and set up their merchandise, ready for tomorrow's busy day. Taking their leisure, they rested

near their fires, eating and drinking, or ventured around the grounds to see who was here and who wasn't,

exchanging gossip and wineskins.

Tanis had provided the twins with directions to Flint's booth; a few additional questions asked of fellow vendors

led the two straight to the location. Here they found Kitiara pacing back and forth in front of the stall, which was

closed up for the night, its doors bolted and padlocked.

"Where have you been?" Kitiara demanded irritably, her hands on her hips. "I've been waiting here for hours!

You're still planning to go to the temple, right? What have you been up to?"

"We were -" Caramon began.

Raistlin poked his brother in the small of the back.

"Uh ... just looking around town," Caramon concluded with a guilty blush that must have betrayed his lie if Kit

hadn't been too preoccupied to notice.

"We didn't realize how late it was," Raistlin added, which was true enough.

"Well, you're here now, and that's what matters," Kit said. "There's a change of clothing for you, little brother,

inside that tent. Hurry up."

Raistlin found a shirt and a pair of leather breeches belonging to Tanis. Both were far too big for the slender young

man, but they would do in an emergency. He secured the breeches around his waist with the rope belt from his robe

or they would have been down around his knees. Tying back his long hair and tucking it up beneath a slouch hat

belonging to Flint, Raistlin emerged from the tent to chortles of raucous laughter from Caramon and Kitiara.

The breeches chafed Raistlin's legs, after the freedom of the comfortable robes; the shirt's sleeves kept falling down

his thin arms, and the hat slid over his eyes. All in all, Raistlin was pleased with his disguise. He doubted if even the

Widow Judith would recognize him.

"Come along, then," said Kit impatiently, starting off toward town. "We're going to be late as it is."

"But I haven't eaten yet!" Caramon pr otested.

"There's no time. You better get used to missing a few meals,

young man, if you're going to be a soldier. Do you think armies

lay down their arms to pick up frying pans?"

Caramon looked horrified. He had known that soldiering

was dangerous, the life of a mercenary a rough one, but it had not occurred to him that he might not be fed. The

career he had been looking forward to ever since he wassixsuddenly lost a good deal of its luster. He stopped at

a water well, drank two gourdfuls, hoping to quiet the rumblings of his stomach.

"Don't blame me," he said in an undertone to his twin, "if these growls scare the snakes."

"Where are Tanis and Flint and the others?" Raistlin asked his sister as they retraced their steps back into

Haven.

"Flint's gone to the Daft Gnome, his favorite alehouse. Sturm went on ahead to the temple, not knowing if you

two were going to honor us with your presence or not. The kender vanished-good riddance, I say." Kit never

made any pretense of the fact that she considered Tasslehoff a nuisance. "Thanks to the kender, I managed to get

rid of Tanis. I didn't think we wanted him along."

Caramon shot an unhappy glance at his brother, who frowned and shook his head, but Caramon was upset and

doggedly ignored his twin's subtle warning.