request."

This was not part of the plan. Raistlin had no idea what Kit was up to, but before he could question her, she

draped her arm around Tanis, ran her hand caressingly over his shoulder. "Are you coming along to help us

tonight, my love?"

Tanis pulled away from her touch.

"The fairgrounds don't shut down until dark," he said. "I have work to do here."

Kit drew close, nibbled at his ear. "Is Tanis still mad at Kitiara?" she asked in a playful tone.

He gently shoved Kit away. "Not here," he said, adding in a low voice, "We have a lot of things to talk over,

Kit."

"Oh, for the love of- Talk! That's all you ever want to do!" Kit flared. "All last night, talk, talk, talk. So I told

you a harmless little lie! It wasn't the first time, and it won't be the last. I'm sure you've lied to me plenty!"

Tanis paled. "You don't mean that," he said quietly.

"No, of course I don't. I say things I don't mean all the time. I'm a liar. Just ask anyone."

Kit strode angrily around the counter, giving Caramon a kick when he didn't move out of her way fast enough

to suit her. "Are the rest of you coming?"

"Untie the kender," Raistlin ordered. "Sturm, you're in charge of Tas. And you, Tas"-he fixed the kender with

a stem eye "you must do exactly as I say. If you don't, you might be the one fed to the vipers."

"Ooh, how excit " Tas saw by Raistlin's swiftly contracting brows that this was not the right response. The

kender was suddenly extremely solemn. "I mean, yes, Raistlin. I'll do whatever you tell me to do. I won't even

look at a snake unless you say to," he added with what he considered truly heroic self-sacrifice.

Raistlin suppressed a sigh. He could see great gaps opening in his plan, envision any number of things going

wrong. For one, he was counting on a ke nder, which anyone in Krynn would tell him was sheer madness. Two,

he was trusting in a would-be knight, who put honor and honesty over every other consideration, including

common sense. Three, he had no idea what Kitiara was plotting on her own, and that was perhaps the most

dangerous gap of all-a veritable chasm, into which they all might tumble.

"I'm ready, Raist," said Caramon stoutly. His loyalty wasp comforting to his brother, but then Caramon

spoiled it by tugging proudly on his collar and adding, "I won't breathe the smoke. I wore this big shirt specially,

so that I could pull it up over my head."

Presented with a vision of Caramon entering the temple with his shirt hiked up over his head, Raistlin shut his

eyes and silently prayed to the gods-the gods of magic, and all true gods everywhere-to walk with him.

They arrived at the temple in time to mingle with the

throng surging inside. The crowd was far larger tonight,

word of Judith's "miracle" having circulated among the fairgoers, and included hill dwarves, several of the

barbaric, feather-decorated Plainsmen, and a number of noble families, clad in fine clothes, accompanied by their

servants.

Raistlin also saw, much to his dismay, several of their neighbors from Solace. He drew his shapeless felt hat low

over his face, huddled into the thick black cloak he wore over his robes. He was actually glad to see that Caramon

had his shirt pulled up to his ears, making him resemble a gigantic tortoise. Raistlin hoped none of their neighbors

would recognize them and make some reference to their fellow villager's magic.

Raistlin was somewhat daunted by the turnout. People from all parts of Abanasinia would be witness to his

performance. It had not occurred to him until now that he would be performing before a large audience. The thought

was not a comfortable one. At that moment, if someone had appeared before him and offered him a bent penny to

flee, he would have grabbed the coin and run.

Pride goaded him on. After his confrontation with Tanis, his fine talk before his siblings and friends, Raistlin could

not back down now. Not without forfeiting their respect and losing any hold he might once again wield over them.

Crowding close behind Caramon, Raistlin used his brother's large body as a shield as they made their way

through the crowd. Sturm kept near them, shepherding Tasslehoff with one hand on the kender's shoulder and the

other plucking Tas's wandering fingers out of the worshipers' pouches and bags.

"I have to go down in front with the priests. It's a great seat!

Good luck," Kit called and waved her hand.