conversation, almost forgotten. He returned to his chair, sat forward in the seat.

"I meant to tell you, young man. I saw your sister when I was in ... on my travels."

Raistlin's gaze darted back to the archmage, was alight with interest. "Kitiara? You saw her, sir?"

"Yes. I was quite astonished, I may tell you. One doesn't expect ... a girl that age. .." He paused, not quite

certain where, under the light of the lad's blue eyes, to go from here.

Raistlin understood. "She left home shortly after I was enrolled in the school, Archmagus. I think she'd wanted

to leave before that, but she was worried about Caramon and me. Me especially. She figures that now I can take

care of myself."

"You're still only a child," Antimodes said sternly, deciding precociousness had gone far enough.

"But I can take care of myself," Raistlin said, and the smilethe smirk Antimodes had seen earlier-touched his

lips. The smile widened when Master Theobald's loud, haranguing voice was heard booming through the door.

"Kitiara came home a couple of months after she left, before winter set in," Raistlin continued. "She gave

Father some money to pay for her room and board. He said it wasn't necessary but she said it was; she wouldn't

take anything from him ever again. She wore a sword, a real one. It had dried blood on it. She gave Caramon a

sword, but Father was angry and took it away from him. She didn't stay long. Where did you see her?"

"I can't quite recall the name of the place," Antimodes said, carefully evasive. "These small towns. They all

look alike after a while. She was in a tavern with some ... companions."

Disreputable companions, he almost said, but he didn't, not wanting to upset the child, who seemed genuinely

fond of his half-sister. He had seen her among mercenary soldiers of the very worst sort, the kind who sell their

swords for money and are willing to sell their souls, too, if anyone happened to want the wretched things.

"She told me a story about you," Antimodes went on quickly, not giving the child time to ask more questions.

"She said that when your father first brought you here, to Master Theobald's, you came into his library-this very

room-sat down and began to read one of the books of magic."

At first Raistlin looked startled, then he smiled. Not the smirk, but a mischievous grin that reminded

Antimodes that this boy really was only six years old.

"That wouldn't be possible," Raistlin said, with a sidelong

glance at Antimodes. "I'm only now learning to read and write magic."

"I know it's not possible," Antimodes replied, smiling himself. The boy could be quite charming when he

chose. "Where would she have come by such a story, then?"

"My brother," Raistlin answered. "We were in the classroom, and my father and the master were talking about

letting me enter the school. The master didn't want to admit me."

Antimodes raised his eyebrows, shocked. "How do you know? Did he say so?"

"Not in so many words. But he said I wasn't properly brought up. I should speak only when I was addressed,

and I should keep my eyes down and not 'stare him out of countenance.' That's what he said. I was 'pert' and 'glib'

and 'disrespectful.' "

"So you are, Raistlin," admonished Antimodes, thinking he should. "You should show your master and your

classmates more respect."

Raistlin shrugged, dismissed them all with that shrug, and continued with his story. "I got bored listening to

Father apologize for me, and so Caramon and I went exploring. We came in here. I pulled a book off the shelf.

One of the spellbooks. Only a practice one. The master keeps the real spellbooks locked up in his cellar. I know."

The child's voice was cool, serious; the eyes glistened with longing. Antimodes was suitably alarmed and

made a mental note to warn Theobald that his precious spellbooks may not be as safe as the master imagined.

Then suddenly the boy was a boy again. "I may have told Caramon the spellbook was real," Raistlin said, the

mischievous grin returning. "I don't remember. Anyway, Master Theobald came dashing in, all huffing and

puffing and mad. He scolded me for wandering off and 'invading his privacy,' and when he saw me with the

book, he got madder still. I wasn't reading a spell. I couldn't read any of it.

"But"-Raistlin gave Antimodes a sly glance "there's an illusionist in town. His name is Waylan, and I've heard

him use magic and I memorized some of the words. I know the spells won't work, but I use them for fun when

the other boys are playing at war. I said some of the words. Caramon was all excited and told father that I was

going to summon a demon from the Abyss. Master Theobald got really red in the face and grabbed the book