"Don't be silly! It's a coin, not some evil artifact! I won it playing at bones with a sailor," Kit said, her crooked smile

limpid. "Lucky at bones, unlucky at love, so they say. But I proved them wrong. The very next day, I met you, lover."

She leaned over to Tanis, kissed him on the cheek.

Her tone was easy, casual, her smile genuine. Raistlin would never have had reason to doubt her if he had not

seen that coin, or one like it, sparkle in Lunitari's light only a month ago.

The half-elf believed her; that much was certain. But then Tanis was so besotted with Kitiara that she could have

told him she'd sailed to the moon and back on a gnome ship and he would have asked her for details of the voyage.

None of the others questioned her either. Flint regarded all his friends with a patronizing, grandfatherly air, which

was degenerating rapidly with every ale the dwarf drank. Tasslehoff roamed happily around the inn, much to the

dismay of the other customers. The members of the party took turns rescuing people from the kender, who, after two

pints of ale, was wont to regale them with his favorite Uncle Trapspringer stories. Flint

InT

and Tanis returned the customers' belongings or made restitution if the "borrowed, strayed or otherwise abandoned"

personal possessions were irretrievably lost in the kender's many pouches.

As for Caramon, he was watching his twin with almost pitiful anxiety, willing desperately that Raistlin should have

a good time. Caramon was elated when his morose brother actually looked tip from the single glass of wine he had

not even touched to ask, "Speaking of dragons, I am currently pursuing a course of study on beasts from antiquity.

Does anyone know any stories about dragons?"

"I know one," offered Sturm, who, having imbibed two mugs of mead in honor of the occasion, was unusually

loquacious.

He told the company a story about the Solamnic knight Huma and how he had fallen in love with a silver dragon,

who had taken the disguise of a human female. The tale was well received and raised speculation. Dragons, good and

evil, had once lived on Krynn; the old tales were filled with stories of them. Were such tales true? Did dragons really

exist, and if so, what had happened to them?

"I've lived in this world a long time," said Tanis, "and I've never seen any sign of dragons. It's my belief that they

exist only in the lays of the minstrels."

"If you deny the existence of dragons, you deny the existence of Huma Dragonbane," said Sturm. "He was the one

who drove the dragons from the world, the good dragons agreeing to leave with the evil in order not to upset the

balance. That is why you see no dragons."

"Uncle Trapspringer met a dragon once -" Tasslehoff began excitedly, but the party was slated to hear no more.

Flint kicked the stool out from under Tas, depositing the kender and his ale on the floor.

"Dragons are kender tales," said Flint with a disgusted snort. "Nothing more."

"Dwarves tell dragon stories, too," Tas said, not at all disconcerted. He picked himself up, looked sadly into his

empty ale mug, and traipsed off to ask Otik for a refill.

"Dwarves tell the best dragon stories," Flint stated. "Which is only natural, considering that we once competed

with the great beasts for living space. Dragons, being quite sensible creatures, preferred to live underground.

Oftentimes a dwarven thane would pick out a snug, dry mountain for his people, only to find that a dragon had

entertained the same idea."

Tanis laughed. "You can't have it both ways, old friend. Dragons can't be false in kender tales and true in

dwarf tales."

"And why not?" Flint demanded angrily. "Have you ever known a kender to speak a true word? And have

you ever known a dwarf to lie?"

He was quite pleased with his argument, which made sense when viewed through the bottom of an ale mug.

"What do you say, Raist?" Caramon asked. His brother appeared to be taking an interest in this subject,

unlike many subjects previous.

"As I said, I have read of dragons in my books," Raistlin replied. "They mention magical spells and artifacts

related to dragons. The books are old, admittedly, but why would such spells and artifacts have been created if

the beasts were only mythological?"

"Exactly!" cried Sturm, tapping his mug on the table and bestowing a rare look of approbation on Raistlin.

"What you say is quite logical."