arguments along those lines. Already Sturm was talking of Solamnia. Goldmoon mentioned Haven, while Tanis himself was thinking the Disks of Mishakal would be safest in the elven kingdom.
Discussing vague plans, they traveled on well into the night. They saw no draconians and supposed that those escaping Xak Tsaroth had traveled north to join up with the armies of this Lord Verminaard, Dragon Highmaster. The silver moon rose, then the red. The companions climbed high, the sound of the horns driving them on past the point of exhaustion. They made camp on the summit of the mountain. After eating a cheerless supper, not daring to light a fire, they set the watch, then slept.
Raistlin woke in the cold gray hour before dawn. He had heard something. Had he been dreaming? No, there it was again-the sound of someone crying. Goldmoon, the mage thought irritably, and started to lie back down. Then he saw Bupu, curled in a ball of misery, blubbering into a blanket.
Raistlin glanced around. The others were asleep except for Flint standing watch on the other side of camp. The dwarf had apparently heard nothing, and he wasn't looking in Raistlin's direction. The mage stood up and padded softly over. Kneeling down beside the gully dwarf, he laid his hand on her shoulder "What is it, little one?"
Bupu rolled over to face him. Her eyes were red her nose swollen. Tears streaked down her dirty face. She snuffled and wiped her hand across her nose. "I don't want to leave you I want to go with you," she said brokenly, "but-oh-I will miss my people!" Sobbing, she buried her face in her hands.
A look of infinite tenderness touched Raistlin's face a look no one in his world would ever see. He reached out and stroked Bupu s coarse hair, knowing what it felt like to be weak and miserable, an object of ridicule and pity.
"Bupu," he said, "you have been a good and true friend to me. You saved my life and the lives of those I care about. Now you will do one last thing for me, little one. Go back I must travel roads that will be dark and dangerous before the end of my long journey. I cannot ask you to go with me "
Bupu lifted her head, her eyes brightening. Then a shadow tell across her face. "But you will be unhappy without me."
No, Raistlin said, smiling, "My happiness will lie in knowing you are safely back with your people."
"You sure?" Bupu asked anxiously.
"I am sure," Raistlin answered.
"Then I go." Bupu stood up. "But first, you take gift" She began to rummage around in her bag.
"No, little one," Raistlin began, remembering the dead lizard thats not necessary-" The words caught in his throat as he watched Bupu pull from her bag-a book! He stared in amazement, seeing the pale light of the chill morning illuminate silver runes on a night-blue leather binding.
Raistlin reached out a trembling hand. "The spellbook of Fistandantilus!" he breathed.
"You like?" Bupu said shyly.
"Yes little one!" Raistlin took the precious object in his hands and held it lovingly, stroking the leather. "Where-"
"I take from dragon," Bupu said, "when blue light shine. I glad you like. Now, I go. Find Highbulp Phudge I, the great" She slung her bag over her shoulder. Then she stopped and turned. "That cough-you sure you not want lizard cure?"
"No, thank you, little one," Raistlin said, rising.
Bupu looked at him sadly, then-greatly daring-she caught his hand in hers and kissed it swiftly. She turned away, her head bowed, sobbing bitterly.
Raistlin stepped forward. He laid his hand on her head. If I have any power at all, Great One, he said inside himself, power that has not yet been revealed to me, grant that this little one goes through her life in safety and happiness.
"Farewell, Bupu," he said softly.
She stared at him with wide, adoring eyes, then turned and ran off as fast as her floppy shoes would carry her.
"What was all that about?" Flint said, stumping over from the other side of the camp. "Oh," he added, seeing Bupu running off. "So you got rid of your pet gully dwarf."
Raistlin did not answer, but simply stared at Flint with a malevolence that made the dwarf shiver and walk hurriedly away.
The mage held the spellbook in his hands, admiring it. He longed to open it and revel in its treasures, but he knew that long weeks of study lay ahead of him before he could even read the