"- and then Sturm stepped in and chopped the monster's arm off!" The gnomes all went Ohh, and Kitiara described how the arm had withered before their very eyes.
Stutts saw Sturm approach. "Ah, Master B-Brightblade!
You're awake. We are just hearing about your t-tremendous adventure on board the cursed c-caravel."
Sturm grunted something noncommittal and looked at
Kitiara. "How do you feel?" he asked.
"Fit as can be. How're you7"
"Rested," he said. "How long have I been asleep?"
"T-two nights and a day," said Stutts.
"Two nights!"
"And a day," added Fitter.
"I came to about an hour ago," Kitiara said."I slept like a dead woman, but now I feel better than I have in ten sum mers."
"You almost were a dead woman." Sturm explained how the Gharm had poisoned her and told her that the elven pen dant had saved her once again. Kitiara brought the ame thyst out of her blouse. Not only was it clear once more, but it was seamed with hundreds of tiny cracks.
"I don't remember using it," she said, puzzled.
"You didn't. I did," said Sturm. Kitiara's eyes widened in surprise.
He turned and went into the dining room. There the water barrel sat, almost empty. Sturm downed a dipper of tepid water.
Outside, Wingover said, "I thought men of his order would not use magic under any circumstance."
"They're not supposed to," Kitiara said. She began to tuck the pendant back under her blouse, but as she did, it crum bled into dust. She stared sadly at the flakes on her tunic;
Tirolan Ambrodel's gift was no more. Then, brushing them away, she rose and said to the gnomes, "Excuse me, fellows.
I need to have a word with Sturm."
Kitiara found Sturm standing by the port rail, staring at the green land below.
"Northern Ergoth," she said." Wingover spotted a flock of terns and followed them. The birds led them to land."
Sturm stared on, saying nothing. "Not very scientific, I thought, but Wingover says, 'Anything that yields good results is scientific."'
"I am tainted," Sturm said quietly.
"In what way?"
"I used magic. Such a thing is forbidden. How am I ever going to become a knight?"
"That's ridiculous! You used magic on Lunitari when you had those visions," she said.
"Those were inflicted on me; I had no choice. On the ship,
I used the power of the pendant to heal your wound."
"I call that a right proper thing to do! Are you sorry you didn't let me die?" she asked sarcastically.
"Of course not."
"But you're 'tainted' nevertheless?"
"I am."
"Then you are a fool, Sturm Brightblade, a hidebound fool! Do you honestly believe that an ancient set of rules for knightly conduct is more important than a comrade's life?
My life? He did not answer. "There's something twisted about such thinking, Sturm."
Sturm shook his head vigorously. "No, Kit. I would have given my life to save yours, but it is a cruel turning of fate that made me break the Measure."
Her jaw clenched in anger and she said stiffly, "I never realized how little value you place on friendship. You want me to believe in your dusty old code. Just like Tanis. He tried to make me into something I wasn't. He couldn't con trol me, and neither can you!" She stamped the deck, barely containing her fury.
Sturm folded his hands and regarded them carefully. "Vir tue is a hard master, Kit. The Measure and the Oath were never meant to be easy burdens to bear. A knight carries them like ponderous stones on his back, and their weight makes him strong and upright." He lifted his gaze until their eyes met. "You will never understand, because all you want from life is to give your burden over to someone else. A lov er, a servant, even a brass dragon. As long as someone else can bear the burden of honor for you, you don't have to feel guilt, or face the consequences of your acts."
Color drained from her face. No one had ever spoken to her like that, not even Tanis. "Then this is the end," she said coldly. "From the moment this soap bubble touches the ground, we're finished."
Kitiara left him watching the canopy of trees unroll. They did not speak to each other again.
"Careful! Careful! Watch those branches!"
The Cloudmaster pushed into a forest clearing. Elm, ash, and birch branches clawed at them. Wingover was atop the deckhouse, trying to direct the landing. Flash and Birdcall had opened the neck of the ethereal air bag, letting some of the lifting power out. The flying ship had scraped over a few bald hills before the wind carried it down. Sturm stood at the bow, fending off dangerous limbs with the boat hook from the Werival – his only souvenir of the perilous hours on the cursed ship. They had no anchor, no grapnel to fix them in place, only timing and control of the air bag. Flash and Birdcall clung to the rope that held the half-empty bag shut.
Branches scraped the length of the deck, snapping when the gaping windows of the deckhouse caught them. Birds fled, chirping, when the ship disturbed their treetop homes.
"Clearing ahead!" Sturm called.
"Get ready!" Wingover cried.
The bow dipped once the trees were out of the way. The keel gently touched the meadow's grass, dragged a few yards, and stopped. Sturm jammed the boat hook into the ground and swung over the rail. He landed on the soil of
Krynn with both feet.
"Praise Paladine!" he said. "Solid ground at last!"
The boarding ramp fell, and seven gnomes boiled out.
Wingover was inhaling deep breaths and patting himself on the chest when he heard Birdcall whistle questioningly.
"Can we open the bag now?" asked Flash.
"Yes, yes, we're landed!"
The two gnomes pulled the zigzag stitching loose. A gust of sulfurous air fled the bag, and the exhausted craft settled, finally and heavily.
Kitiara descended the ramp and dumped what belongings she had left on the ground. In spite of the bitterness of their parting, Sturm couldn't stop his eyes from following her.
She paid no one the slightest heed, but stood a ways off, hanging her water bottle and leather pouch on opposite hips to balance the load. She slung her bedroll over one shoulder by its strap. Sturm had an urge to speak, to say something conciliatory, but her hard expression forestalled him.
"Well, Wingover, it's been a long, strange voyage," Kiti ara said, shaking the little man's hand. "I'll never forget it."
"We couldn't have made it without you, lady."
She moved on to Cutwood, Sighter, Birdcall, and Flash.
"Keep thinking up new ideas," she said amiably, "That way the world will never get dull." She turned to Roperig and Fit ter and chucked the littlest gnome under the chin. "So long, boys. Stick together – you make a good team."
"We will," said the two in unison.
Finally, she approached Rainspot and Stutts. "You're a very lucky fellow, Stutts," she said warmly. "Not many peo ple get to realize their life's dream as completely as you have. Keep flying, old fellow. I hope you will have many more adventures."
"My," said Stutts. "It d-doesn't seem likely. I have so many reports to write and s-so many lectures to give. After all, the
Gnomish Patent Office must be satisfied that we have d-done what we have done." He bowed formally. "Farewell,
Mistress. You were a t-tower of strength."
"I was, wasn't I?"
"Where are you off to?" Wingover asked.
"Wherever the trail takes me," she replied.
Kitiara's crooked smile almost appeared. She squinted into the sky. It was not yet noon. The sun warmed her face.
Sturm stood apart from her leave-taking. He felt the weight of his own resolve and knew that what Kitiara had said was true. They were finished. And yet, he knew he would miss the old Kit, the brash, fun-loving companion.
Kitiara crossed the warm meadow briskly and did not look back. Sunlight burnished her black curls as she cut a swath through the high grass. Sturm bent over to shoulder his own gear. When he straightened again, Kitiara had van ished among the closely growing elms and birches at the field's far end.
"Aren't you going after her?" said Fitter.
"Why should I do that?" Sturm said. He tied a thready piece of twine around his bedroll and tucked it under his arm. "She can take care of herself. It's what she does best."
"I don't understand," Fitter said, scratching his nose. "I thought you two were going to get married one day."