Rhys helped Nightshade to his feet and assured Atta that all was well. Mina was looking eagerly about. She was delighted with Solace.
“The houses are built in trees!” she cried, clapping her hands. “There’s a whole city up in the trees! I want to go up there. What is that place?”
She pointed to a large building nestled in the branches of a giant vallenwood.
“That’s the Inn of the Last Home,” Nightshade stated, eagerly sniffing the air. He was feeling almost back to normal. “Boiled cabbage. Which means today must be corned beef and cabbage day. Wait until you meet Laura. She owns the Inn and she does the cooking and she’s the best cook in all of Ansalon. Then there’s our friend, Gerard, the sheriff. He’s-”
“Mina,” Rhys said, interrupting, “would you run over to that well and fetch some water for Atta?”
Mina did as she was bid, running excitedly off to the public well, taking the panting dog with her.
“I don’t think we should tell Gerard the truth about Mina,” Rhys said to Nightshade when Mina was gone. “We don’t want to strain his credulity.”
“Is that like noodles?” Nightshade asked, puzzled. “’Cause I know you have to strain them.”
“I am afraid he would not believe us,” Rhys clarified.
“That she’s a god whose gone crazy? I’m not sure I believe us,” Nightshade said solemnly. He put his hand to his forehead. “I’m still kind of dizzy from all that walking. But I see what you mean. Gerard knew Mina, didn’t he? The old Mina, I mean. When she was a soldier during the War of Souls. He told us about meeting her that one night when he started talking about what happened to him during the war. But she’s a little girl now. I don’t think he’d be likely to connect the two. Do you?”
“I don’t know,” Rhys said. “He might recognize her if he hears her name and sees her. Her looks are extraordinary.”
Nightshade watched Mina hurry back toward them. She was carrying water in a pail and sloshing most of it onto her shoes.
“Rhys,” said the kender in a whisper, “what if Mina recognizes him? Gerard was her enemy. She might kill him!”
“I don’t think she will,” said Rhys. “She seems to have blotted out that part of her life.”
“She blotted out the Beloved too, and it all came back to her,” Nightshade reminded him.
Rhys smiled faintly. “We must hope for the best and trust that the gods are with us.”
“Oh, they’re with us, all right,” Nightshade grumbled. “If there’s one thing we’re not short on, it’s gods.”
After Atta gulped her water, Rhys and his companions joined the people standing in line, waiting for a table in the popular inn. The line wound up the long, curving stairway that led to the front door. The last rays of the setting sun turned the sky golden red, gleamed off the leaves of the vallenwood and shimmered in the stained glass windows. People in line were in a good mood. Happy to be finished with the day’s work, they were looking forward to a hearty meal and an evening spent in the company of friends.
“Goldmoon told me stories about the Inn of the Last Home,” Mina was saying excitedly. “She told me how she and Riverwind were brought here miraculously by the blue crystal staff, and how they met the Heroes of the Lance, and how the Theocrat fell into the fire and burned his hand and the staff healed him. And then the soldiers came and-”
“I’m starving,” Nightshade complained. “And this line hasn’t moved one little bit. Mina, if you could just whisk us to the front-”
“No!” Rhys said severely.
“But, Rhys-”
“Race you!” Mina cried.
Before Rhys could stop her, she had dashed off.
“I’ll go get her!” Nightshade offered, and he bolted before Rhys could grab him.
Reaching the stairs, Mina pushed past indignant patrons. Nightshade caused further disruption trying to catch her. Rhys hastened after both of them, apologizing profusely as he went. He collared Nightshade at the door, but Mina was too fast and had already darted inside the Inn.
Several good-natured customers told him he could go ahead of them. Rhys knew he was condoning bad behavior, and also knew he should have scolded both girl and kender and marched them to the back of the line. But, frankly, he was too tired to lecture, too tired to put up with the arguing and the wailing. It seemed easier just to let it go.
Laura, the proprietor of the Inn, was vastly pleased to see Rhys again. She gave him a hug and told him he could have his old job back if he wanted it, and added that he and Nightshade could stay as long as they liked. Laura had another hug for Nightshade, and she was charmed when Rhys introduced Mina, whom Rhys described vaguely as an orphan they had befriended along the way. Laura clucked in sympathy.
“What a state you’re in, child!” Laura exclaimed, looking with dismay at Mina’s dirt-streaked face and tangled hair, her tattered filthy clothes. “And those rags you’re wearing! Mercy’s sake, that chemise is so threadbare you can see right through it.”
She cast Rhys a reproachful glance. “I know you old bachelors don’t know anything about raising little girls, but you could at least have seen to it that she took a bath! Come along with me, Mina dear. We’ll have a nice meal and a hot bath and then off to bed with you. And I’ll see to it that you’re dressed properly. I have some of my niece Linsha’s old clothes packed away. I think they should just about fit you.”
“Will you brush my hair for me before I go to sleep?” Mina asked. “My mother used to brush my hair every night.”
“You sweet thing,” said Laura, smiling. “Of course, I’ll brush your hair-such pretty hair. Where is mother, dear?” she asked, as she led Mina away.
“She’s waiting for me at Godshome,” Mina replied solemnly.
Laura looked considerably startled at this pronouncement, then her face softened. “Ah, you sweet child,” she said gently, “that’s a lovely way to remember her.”
Nightshade had already found a table and was discussing the evening’s offerings with the waitress. Rhys looked about for Gerard, but his usual table was empty. Nightshade tucked blissfully into a large plate of corned beef and cabbage. Rhys ate a small amount, then gave the rest to Atta, who sniffed disdainfully at the boiled cabbage, but wolfed down the corned beef.
Rhys insisted on paying for their room and board by helping in the kitchen. As the night went on, he continued to look for Gerard, but the sheriff never came.
“Small wonder,” said Laura, when she returned to inspect her kitchen and make preparations for tomorrow’s breakfast. “There’s been trouble in Temple Row lately. Oh, nothing serious, mind you. The clerics of Sargonnas and Reorx got into a shouting match and nearly came to blows. Someone threw rotten eggs at the temple of Gilean, and lewd pictures and bad words were scrawled on the walls of Mishakal’s temple. Feelings are running high. The sheriff’s likely out talking to people, trying to keep things calm.”
Rhys listened to this in dismay. He tried to tell himself that this rivalry among the gods could not possibly have anything to do with him or his companions, but he knew otherwise. He thought of Zeboim and Chemosh, both gods trying to lure Mina to join them. Whichever side she chose-darkness or light-she would upset the balance between good and evil, tilt the scales to one side or the other.
“She’s a beautiful child,” said Laura, bending down to kiss the girl’s forehead, as she and Rhys checked on her before going to their rest.
“She does say some strange things, though. Such a vivid imagination! Why, she said that yesterday you’d been in Flotsam!”
Rhys went thankfully to his bed, which Laura had made up in the room next to Mina’s. Atta was just settling herself at his feet, when a shrill scream roused Rhys. He lit his bedside candle and hurried to Mina’s room.