Wanderlust

by Mary Kirchoff

  Just then Tanis came forward with four glasses and a dusty bottle of mulled ale he had been saving. He smiled at the woman and said, “Tanis Half-Elven.”

  She regarded his fine facial features, the slightly slanted eyes, and the suggestion of a tip to the ears beneath his thick reddish brown hair. “I thought you looked too rugged to be full elf, yet too beautiful to be human.…” she mused.

  It was Tanis’s turn to blush. “All we know is your given name from Flint,” he said hastily. “Selana, isn’t it?” He offered her one of the glasses. She extended a slim, almost translucent hand to accept it, which shook slightly as Tanis poured the pale-colored ale into the vessel.

  “Yes, I am called Selana.” She took a hasty gulp of the ale, coughing as she swallowed. Tasslehoff clapped her on the back. “I thought it was water,” she gasped.

  “Water?” The kender slapped his knee as he laughed. “Why, only an ogre would drink water that looked like swamp juice.”

  “Tasslehoff.” Tanis spoke the warning low in his throat after he saw Selana’s flustered expression. She took another slow swallow of the ale. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she did not cough again. Chin set determinedly, she addressed Flint in the rocker.

  “Flint Fireforge, I am here for my bracelet. I am not such a fool that I can’t see something is amiss. Were you unable to make it? Perhaps you will tell me now.”

  Flint shook his head. “No, I made it, all right, and a beautiful bracelet it was—is,” he corrected himself hastily, rubbing his face in distress as he tried to think of the best way to explain the situation.

  Tasslehoff dropped to the floor to sit cross-legged at her booted feet. “Look, this whole thing is my fault. Well, not entirely my fault. It was just a silly bit of strange fortune that the bracelet found its way onto my wrist in the first place. Of course I knew how much the bracelet meant to Flint, after he got so mad when he lost it the first time, that I knew he’d be furious and frantic when he discovered he’d been careless enough to lose it a second time.”

  “That’s enough!” Flint roared at the kender. “I don’t need your brand of help.” The dwarf proceeded to piece together the events of the last several days, from the crafting of the bracelet, through its “pocketing” by Tasslehoff, to the robbery of the tinker’s wagon.

  “We were on our way to find this thieving bard and get your bracelet back, when we, uh, met you outside. I’m as sorry as I’ve ever been about anything,” said Flint, hanging his head. “And even though I’d like to throttle this kender,” the dwarf said through gritted teeth, his eyes narrow as slits, “this whole blasted mess is still my responsibility. I’d gladly return your money if I could, but I’ve already spent it on supplies,” he admitted sheepishly.

  “I don’t want the money,” the young woman said. “It’s the bracelet I need, and I insist that you retrieve it immediately.”

  Her imperious tone made Flint flush further in embarrassment, but it only annoyed the half-elf. “Certainly the bracelet should not have been mislaid,” Tanis said stiffly, “but it wouldn’t hurt you to show some patience and understanding. Flint told you he was trying to get it back.”

  “You know, Flint, I’ve been thinking,” the kender interjected. “It’s a good thing I came along when I did. Reorx alone knows who could have picked it up from where you’d carelessly left it, if I hadn’t taken steps to keep it safe.”

  “Carelessly left it?” Flint barked, jumping to his feet. “That bracelet was safely in my display box! And you weren’t taking steps to do anything but steal it, you thieving little—”

  “—thief!” Tas cried indignantly, his fists clenched as he faced off against the sputtering dwarf. “I am sick to death of taking the blame for other people’s carelessness. Listen, you old—ouch, Tanis!” Tasslehoff glared at the half-elf, who had wedged himself between them and was pinching the muscle on the kender’s right shoulder.

  “Stop it, both of you,” Tanis admonished them. “This isn’t helping us find the bracelet.” He turned to the pale woman, who had been silently appalled during the exchange, her face now a study in vexation. “If it’s the bracelet you want, why can’t Flint just make another?”

  “You don’t understand!” Selana cried, stamping her booted foot petulantly. “Even if there were time for that, the special components were the only ones of their kind. You have no idea what I went through to get them.” A sob escaped her at the memory.

  “Why don’t you tell us?” Tanis insisted. Her reaction confirmed his growing suspicion that there was more at stake here than a missing bracelet. “While you’re at it, why don’t you tell us why a slip of a girl needs a magical bracelet that divines the future?”

  A slender hand flew to her mouth. “You know?”

  Tanis shook his head. “Until now, we only had the ramblings of a superstitious tinker and Tas’s suspicions.”

  Angry, her eyes flashed from sea green to storm black. “What right is it of yours to know? You tricked me!” She raised her hand to strike him.

  Almond eyes narrowed, Tanis caught her by the wrist. “No more than you did when you commissioned Flint to make an ‘ordinary’ bracelet. You must know how much dwarves distrust magic. What right had you to conceal the bracelet’s magical nature from him?”

  “I never said it was ordinary,” she retorted. “I sought a noted craftsman to perform a task for which he was handsomely paid. Do you tell your tailor every occasion for which you might wear the clothing he makes you?”

  “That’s not the same thing!” Tanis snapped.

  It was Flint’s turn to step between combatants. Tanis dropped Selana’s wrist as Flint glared at him. “What’s gotten into you? Whatever the bracelet is or might have been, it was my responsibility. I shouldn’t have let it leave my sight. Now I just have to get it back, no matter what it takes.”

  His statement, meant to be reassuring, brought only a cry of alarm from Selana. “How long will it take?”

  Flint looked surprised. “If this Delbridge fellow headed north, and if we can find him—” He shrugged—“three days … less with good luck, maybe a week with bad.”

  “And if you can’t find him? Or if he’s somehow lost the bracelet? What then?” Her usually low voice was rising in agitation.

  “Why is this bracelet so important, Selana?” Tanis asked faintly. “Who are you that you must cover yourself so?” Although tears glistened in her lovely eyes, narrow with fury, she did not resist as he reached out and loosened the blue-green scarf from her face. It fluttered back and settled in soft folds to her shoulders.

  “A sea elf!” Tanis gasped as shimmering silver-white hair sprang about her face in soft waves. He had but heard of the reclusive sea elves, distant cousins to his elven kin in Qualinesti. He’d been told their skin was so translucent as to be blue, yet Selana’s was milky-white. Her eyes were perfectly round and very large, unlike the almond shape of land-living elves. Though possessing human form, sea elves lived underwater. Tanis had never heard of one leaving the sea to travel on land.

  Unwanted tears pooled in Selana’s eyes. Vexed, she brushed them away. “Yes, I am a Dargonesti elf.” She snatched at the end of her scarf and twisted it anxiously as she began to pace.

  Flint forgot about his own shame as fatherly concern grew for the obviously tormented girl. “Tell us what troubles you so much that you have left the sea?”

  Selana stopped to examine the faces of the three in the small room, then sighed in resignation. “Forgive me, but I am not used to trusting strangers. Actually, I’ve led a sheltered life and have met very few.”

  She held her chin up high. “In the Dargonesti language, my name would sound like little more than unpronounceable squeaks to you. In your tongue, my name is Selana of the Reefs Where Sea Fronds Dance and Eels Dart, Shark Chaser, Moonbeam Laughter.” She paused but received only puzzled looks. “Princess Selana Sonluanaau. My father was Solunatuaau, the Speaker of the Moons.”

  She gave them time to gasp in astonishment
before continuing. “I say was, because he died quite suddenly at the time of the last full moon.” She waved away their pitying glances. “Although I miss him terribly, he lived a fruitful life. It was his time. That is our way.”

  She dried the last of her tears on the back of her hand. “It is also our way that the ruler of our people must possess, by nature, the ability to foresee the future. My father could. He knew of his own impending death, though he kept it a secret until it was too late.”

  “I get it!” cried Tasslehoff. “You need the bracelet so that you can become queen of your people!”

  Selana frowned at the kender and shook her iridescent head. “No, I do not seek the crown for myself, but for my elder brother.”

  Tasslehoff’s brow knit in deliberation. “Now I’m really confused. If he has the natural ability to see the future, why do you need a bracelet?”

  A look of unbearable despair settled upon the sea elf’s comely face. “My brother Semunel is good and wise and strong, but for reasons only the benevolent god Habbakuk knows,” she sighed, “he has not the natural ability. Semunel will rule well and long, but only if he ascends the throne. This he cannot do unless he demonstrates to the regents of the House of Law that he possesses the ability to see what will be. Without the bracelet, he will surely fail the test.”

  Selana resumed her pacing. “Semunel’s deficiency was a secret shared between my father, brother, and myself—secret even from my mother. There are factions that would see House Sonluanaau end.”

  Trying to calm the roiling emotions inside her, the princess focused her attention on a book from the carved shelf and fingered its spine. “We hoped that perhaps the skill was latent and would eventually develop, but it never did.… Now Father has died, and there is no more time to wait.”

  Tanis cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to appear impertinent, but isn’t it dishonest to deceive the regents—and ultimately the people—if your brother does not possess the skill your customs require? Perhaps Habbakuk had reason for not granting Semunel the ability.”

  Selana slammed the book down on the shelf at Tanis’s effrontery. “Is it wrong to want to rule the people fairly, rather than hand rulership over to those who would misuse the power?” At that moment, she found the half-elf bucolic, with his homespun clothing and disheveled hair. The sea elf laughed contemptuously. “What would you know of court politics, anyway, half-elf?

  Tanis gave a humorless laugh of his own. “More than I care to, my dear princess,” he said dryly. Tanis’s face was flushed with fury as he left the room and went into the kitchen.

  “Gee, what’s eating him?” asked Tas.

  Flint noted the bewildered expression on Selana’s face as well. He alone knew the reason for Tanis’s strong reaction, but she could not have guessed the deep wounds her defensive words had opened. Flint didn’t feel it his place to tell the sea elf that no one knew court politics better than Tanis, a victim of their viciousness.

  The half-breed had survived a tortured upbringing in the court of the Qualinesti, as ward of the Speaker of the Sun himself. Many, many years had passed since the dwarf had met the unhappy young elf there. He had found in him a kindred spirit, another who could not live comfortably among his people. Tanis had suffered a terrible confrontation with his guardian—actually, an accusation of murder. Although vindicated, Tanis had decided he would fit in better as the only half-elf to live in the human village of Solace, with the only resident dwarf, Flint.

  “Tanis, or Tanthalas as he is known among the Qualinesti elves, is much more complex than he appears on the surface,” was the old dwarf’s only explanation.

  Selana looked flustered. “I’m sorry if I offended him, but I am preoccupied with finding my bracelet and unused to your customs.” She smoothed her indigo robe and headed for the door. “Now, if we may, I’d like to begin our search for this bard person.”

  “Yeah, I’m getting bored, too. Let’s go,” said Tas, standing up and heading for the door.

  Taken aback, Flint almost choked on the last swallow of his drink. “Princess, I don’t think you understand what we’re about to undertake. Life on the trail is rough, uncomfortable, filthy—not at all civilized,” he added, hoping to strike the right note. “You’d be more comfortable and much safer in Solace, while we go and retrieve the bracelet.”

  “Absolutely not,” she said. “I’m neither helpless nor unskilled,” she defended. “I got as far as Solace by myself.”

  Flint shook his head vigorously. “I’m sure you’d do just fine on the trip, but once we find him we’ll be up against a desperate thief.”

  Tanis, who had been listening from the kitchen, added, “You’d only slow us down, Princess. Just let us handle this.”

  “Please, don’t either of you patronize me,” she said stiffly. She addressed Flint. “No offense, Master Fireforge, but I left things in another’s hands once before, and I’ll not do it again.” Selana noted Flint’s embarrassed scowl. “I’ll go with or without you.”

  Flint had not known her long, but he had played at cards enough to recognize a bluff when he saw one, and headstrong Princess Selana was not bluffing. He could not have her traipsing about by herself. With a deep, rumbling sigh, he gave in. “All right, you win.”

  Selana allowed herself a smile. “You’ll see. I’ll be quite a help.”

  Standing in the archway to the kitchen, arms folded, Tanis clucked his disbelief.

  Flint clapped his hands and pulled a cap over his salt-and-pepper hair. “Well,” he said, ignoring Tanis, “what are we waiting for?”

  * * * * *

  It was not, by anyone’s account, turning out to be a good day, even for Tasslehoff. In the rolling foothills of the Eastwall Mountains, they had stopped to rest. Selana sat demurely on a dry stump; Tanis was on the ground at her feet, his back against it. Flint paced angrily before the kender, who lay on his stomach on the soft earth, his head propped up by his elbows, his eyes on the map spread before him.

  “How do we know that mountain isn’t new?” he asked defensively. “They were springing up left, right, and center during the Cataclysm, you know—couldn’t hardly spit without hitting a new one. This map of mine is perfectly good.” The kender gave it a thump for emphasis.

  Having consulted one of Tasslehoff’s many guides before leaving Solace, the companions saw that there were only three villages of any size to the north: Que-taw, Ravenvale, and Tantallon, and the only established route to the north went farther east than it needed before actually turning north. They thought they would save time by going cross-country, then cutting east in terrain that looked free and clear on Tas’s map. They had traveled north out of Solace along the eastern shore of Crystalmir Lake and crossed into an area known as the Near Fields. For the entire overcast afternoon they walked north at the base of the Eastwall Mountains, looking for the range to stop so they could cut east. They had long ago passed the point on the map where the mountains should have ended.

  “Tasslehoff,” Flint began patiently, “have you ever, honestly, been to this area before? Did you make this map yourself?”

  Tasslehoff looked sheepish. “Not entirely. One day I just sort of found it in my pack, so I’m not exactly sure where it came from.” His eyebrows lifted in thought, and he took a quill and bottle of ink out of his pack. “I’ve been adding to it, though, and now would be a good time to mark in the rest of that mountain range, wouldn’t it?” He scratched at the paper with his quill, biting his lip in concentration.

  “There’s no point in a lecture now, Flint,” said Tanis wearily, handing the dwarf a chunk of hard bread and a slice of jerky from his pack of supplies. “Let’s just eat something and press on.”

  Flint took the food, dropped to the grass, and chewed. He looked up at the fading sunlight. “This looks as good as anyplace to make camp for the night. Besides, I’m sure Selana’s feet have swelled up like hams, now that she’s been off them for ten minutes.”

  All eyes turned to the bedraggl
ed princess, who was munching on a crust of bread, having declined the offer of meat with a disdainful wrinkle of her nose.

  Selana was, without a doubt, having the worst time of it. Her cheeks were speckled with dried, crusty mud from the numerous times she had slipped on the trail or tripped over her robe and fallen. Her beautiful blue robe was ripped at the hem, where merciless shrubs had latched onto it. Her soft leather boots were downright mud-caked and provided no cushion against the unyielding terrain. No doubt partly as a consequence, she had been most irritable and was keeping to herself and speaking only in response to direct questions, while refusing any offers of help.

  “I’ll be fine, really,” she protested weakly. “I’m just unused to all this walking.”

  “That’s right!” exclaimed Tasslehoff. “You probably swim mostly, considering where you’re from. But don’t you ever walk on the bottom of the sea?”

  Selana looked at his curious face and became self-conscious. “Sometimes,” she responded in a clipped voice.

  “I’m glad you brought the subject up, because I have a number of very important questions,” said the kender, who was poised to take notes. “Is there sunlight underwater? I’ll bet not, so how do you see? Do your fingers and toes get all pruny, too? Are there doors, or even buildings? If not, how do you keep things from getting stolen?

  “And what about talking? Anytime I’ve tried to speak underwater, all I get is bubbles and a snootful of water. So you probably have to put up with that all the time. What I really wonder is, how do you breath underwater? Perhaps you could show me how in a bucket sometime.”

  “Tasslehoff!” Tanis shrieked, aghast.

  “What?” asked the kender, his eyes wide with innocence.

  Instead of being offended, Selana laughed for the first time. “I don’t blame Tasslehoff for being inquisitive about someone who’s different—I confess to a curiosity about land dwellers, as well,” she said to Tanis, before turning to the kender. “I don’t know about the bucket, but I’ll be happy to answer your questions, if you answer mine and help me to learn your customs.”