innocent, childlike expression on his face, reached into his fleecy vest, whipped out a dagger, and threw it-all in one motion. The goblin clutched his chest and fell with a groan.
There was a sound of flapping feet as the remaining goblin fled. The battle was over.
Tanis sheathed his sword, grimacing in disgust at the stinking bodies; the smell reminded him of rotting fish. Flint wiped black goblin blood from his axe blade. Tas stared mournfully at the body of the goblin he killed. It had fallen face-down, his dagger buried underneath.
"I'll get it for you," Tanis offered, preparing to roll the body over.
"No." Tas made a face. "I don't want it back. You can never get rid of the smell, you know."
Tanis nodded. Flint fastened his axe in its carrier again, and the three continued on down the path.
The lights of Solace grew brighter as darkness deepened. The smell of the wood smoke on the chill night air brought thoughts of food and warmth-and safety. The companions hurried their steps. They did not speak for a long time, each hearing Flint's words echo in his mind: Goblins. In Solace.
Finally, however, the irrepressible kender giggled.
"Besides," he said, "that dagger was Flint's!"
2
Return to the Inn.
A shock. The oath is broken.
Nearly everyone in Solace managed to drop into the Inn of the Last Home sometime during the evening hours these days. People felt safer in crowds.
Solace had long been a crossroads for travelers. They came northeast from Haven, the Seeker capital. They came from the elven kingdom of Qualinesti to the south. Sometimes they came from the east, across the barren Plains of Abanasinia. Throughout the civilized world, the Inn of the Last Home was known as a traveler's refuge and center for news. It was to the Inn that the three friends turned their steps.
The huge, convoluted trunk rose through the surrounding trees. Against the shadow of the vallenwood, the colored panes of the Inn's stained-glass windows glittered brightly, and sounds of life drifted down from the windows. Lanterns, hanging from the tree limbs, lit the winding stairway. Though the autumn night was settling chill amid the vallenwoods of Solace, the travelers felt the companionship and memories warm the soul and wash away the aches and sorrows of the road.
The Inn was so crowded on this night that the three were continually forced to stand aside on the stairs to let men, women, and children pass them. Tanis noticed that people glanced at him and his companions with suspicion-not with the welcoming looks they would have given five years ago.
Tanis's face grew grim. This was not the homecoming he had dreamed about. Never in the fifty years he had lived in Solace had he felt such tension. The rumors he had heard about the malignant corruption of the Seekers must be true.
Five years ago, the men calling themselves "seekers" ("we seek the new gods") had been a loose-knit organization of clerics practicing their new religion in the towns of Haven, Solace, and Gateway. These clerics had been misguided, Tanis believed, but at least they had been honest and sincere. In the intervening years, however, the clerics had gained more and more status as their religion flourished. Soon they became concerned not so much with glory in the afterlife as with power on Krynn. They took over the governing of the towns with the people's blessing.
A touch on Tanis's arm interrupted his thoughts. He turned and saw Flint silently pointing below. Looking down, Tanis saw guards marching past, walking in parties of four. Armed to the teeth, they strutted with an air of self-importance.
"At least they're human-not goblin," Tas said.
"That goblin sneered when I mentioned the High Theocrat," Tanis mused. "As if they were working for someone else. I wonder what's going on."
"Maybe our friends will know," Flint said.
"If they're here," Tasslehoff added. "A lot could have happened in five years."
"They'll be here-if they're alive," Flint added in an undertone. "It was a sacred oath we took-to meet again after five years had passed and report what we had found out about the evil spreading in the world. To think we should come home and find evil on our very doorsteps!"
"Hush! Shss!" Several passersby looked so alarmed at the dwarfs words that Tanis shook his head.
"Better not talk about it here," the half-elf advised.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Tas flung the door open wide.
A wave of light, noise, heat, and the familiar smell of Otik's spicy potatoes hit them full in the