at the rapid pace customary to the tree, bringing solace to the grief-stricken. The spirits of those who had died

flourished were renewed in the living tree.

This spring brought another disease into Solace-a disease known to be carried by kender, a disease that is

often contagious, especially among the young, who had just come to realize that life was short and very sweet

and should be experienced to the fullest. The disease is called wanderlust.

Sturm was the first to catch it, although his other friends had exhibited the same symptoms. His case had been

coming on ever since the death of his mother. Bereft and alone, his thoughts and dreams looked northward, to his

homeland.

"I cannot give up the hope that my father still lives," he confessed to Caramon one morning. It was now his

custom to join the twins for breakfast. Eating alone, in his own empty house, was too much to bear. "Though I

admit that my mother's argument has some merit. If my father is alive, why did he never once try to contact us?"

"There could be lots of reasons," said Caramon stoutly. "Maybe he's being held prisoner in a dungeon by a

mad wizard. Oh, sorry, Raist. I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

Raistlin snorted. He was occupied in feeding his rabbits, paying scant attention to the conversation.

"Whatever the case," Sturm said, "I intend to find out the truth. When the roads are open, within the month, I

plan to travel north to Solamnia."

"No! Name of the Abyss," exclaimed Caramon, startled.

Raistlin, too, was amazed. He turned from his work, cabbage leaves in his hand, to see if the young man was

serious.

Sturm nodded his head. "I have wanted to make such a journey for the past three years, but I was loath to leave

my mother for an extended period of time. Now there is nothing to hold me. I go, and I go with her blessing. If, in fact,

my father is dead, then I have my inheritance to claim. If he lives-"

Sturm shook his head, unable to complete the expression of the dream, too wonderful to possibly come true.

"Are you going alone?" Caramon asked, awed.

Sturm smiled, a rare thing for the usually solemn and serious young man. "I had hoped that you would come with

me, Caramon. I would ask you, too, Raistlin," he added more stiffly, "but the journey will be long and difficult, and I

fear it might tax your health. And I know that you would not want to be so far from your studies."

Ever since their return from Haven, Raistlin had spent every moment he could spare studying the tomes of the

war magus. He had added several new spells to his spellbook.

"On the contrary, I am feeling unusually strong this spring," Raistlin remarked. "I would be able to take my books

with me. I thank you for the offer, Sturm, and I will consider it, as will my brother."

"I'm going," Caramon said. "So long as Raist comes, too. And as he says, he has been really strong. He hasn't been

sick hardly at all."

"I am glad to hear it," Sturm said, though without much enthusiasm. He knew very well that the twins would not

be separated, although he had hoped against all reason to be able to persuade Caramon to leave Raistlin behind. "I

remind you, Raistlin, that magic-users are not venerated in my country. Although, of course, you would be accorded

the hospitality due any guest."

Raistlin bowed. "For which I am deeply grateful. I will be a most accommodating guest, I assure you, Sturm. I will

not set the bed linens on fire, nor will I poison the well. In fact, you might find certain of my skills useful on the

road."

"He's a really good cook," stated Caramon.

Sturm rose to his feet. "Very well. I will make the arrangements. My mother left me some money, although not

much. Not enough for horses, I fear. We will have to travel on foot."

The moment the door closed behind Sturm, Caramon began capering around the small house, upsetting the

furniture and

wreaking havoc in his delight. He even had the temerity to give his brother a hug.

"Have you gone mad?" Raistlin demanded. "There! Look what you've done. That was our only cream pitcher.

No, don't try to help! You've caused enough damage. Why don't you go polish your sword or sharpen it or

whatever you do to it?"

"I will! A great idea!" Caramon rushed off to his bedroom, only to run back a moment later. "I don't have a