"It doesn't seem evil," Ripple said.
"It is, but, according to Alchviem, the merchesti are normally not a problem to us, even if we opened a portal. Our world doesn't attract them, it's a bit too cold, he says."
"The wind that came through the portal was hot," Ripple said. "Do you remember the hot wind that blew-"
"And it was hot over there," Trap said, interrupting Ripple's story.
Halmarain ducked her head over the book again and read for a bit.
"Alchviem says here that he traveled on Vasmarg without trouble except for the time when he encountered a merchesti with a young one. Apparently they're vicious when protecting their young. As long as that thing"-she pointed to the corner again-"stays in our world, it's parent will be working to reach Krynn. Merchesti have been known to use portals, or so Alchviem writes."
"So will she open the portal and take her baby back?" Trap asked. He hoped the wizard would return soon. Perhaps he could persuade Orander to take the kender with him on his travels.
"That's what I'm trying to find out. In the meantime we need to keep the creature here, and you will look after it. I need to study, to see if there is any way I can protect us from it."
"If Orander can't open the portal with one stone, how can the merchesti do it?" Ripple said, her sharp little mind still alert to fallacy.
"They have been known to enter other planes by their own means," Halmarain said. "Not even Alchviem knew much about the merchesti."
"You said the mother wasn't dangerous, and she didn't hurt Trap," Ripple reminded Halmarain.
"No, I said it wasn't interested in Krynn. If it opened a portal, entered our world, and couldn't find its young, it could kill thousands in its search." She glared at the kender. "It didn't hurt your brother because it was too concerned with finding its offspring to bother with him. Merchesti are evil, they're from an evil world."
Grod, who had been walking around the room, stared at Halmarain with wide blue eyes. The gully dwarf turned to look at the little fiend, then back to gaze at the wizard, and then turned toward Beglug again.
"I don't see how you can be so sure of that," Trap argued. "Beglug doesn't look evil, and he hasn't done anything wrong. He's just little, and if he does things we don't like we can teach him to be good. Remember, Ripple, when little Ham Trotalong wanted to walk off the side of the bridge, his mother taught him not to?"
Ripple agreed with her brother. "And if the merchesti mother loves her baby enough to search for it, she couldn't be evil either."
"Caring for its young doesn't make it good," Halmarain retorted. "Every creature is born with a need to procreate. The need to protect the young usually varies with the number of offspring at one birth. A creature that lays hundreds, maybe thousands of eggs at one time may leave them to their fate, but those have few or single births actively protect their young.
"Protection has nothing to do with good and evil, it's an instinct," the little wizard continued. "That thing is evil. It doesn't seem harmful right now, but if it's in our world very long, you'll soon see for yourselves."
"What can we do?" Trap asked the little wizard.
"I don't know," Halmarain admitted. Her face twisted as if she might cry, but she pulled herself together. "I don't know what I can do, I'm just an apprentice. I don't know enough magic to open the portal, even if we had both stones."
"But you can read Orander's books," Ripple said, encouraging Halmarain.
"Sure, you're a wizard, even if you're just a little one," Trap agreed. "You'll think of something, and we'll help you, if you want us to, particularly if you show us some magic."
The tiny human drew herself up and took a deep breath. She formed her trembling lips into a firm line and narrowed her eyes, blinking away the tears on her lashes.
"I have to try," she said. "If I keep studying the books, I might find an answer. Just keep that beast quiet and let me see what I can learn."
"She's back to giving orders," Ripple said, her sympathy evaporating.
"And you promised us some magic," Trap reminded her.
"Got food?" Umpth asked.
"The kitchen is along the passage, to the right, up five steps," Halmarain told Ripple. "You fix it the meal. Don't let those stinking creatures near the larder or they'll be wearing pig's heads on their shoulders. And don't try to leave. Orander wove protective spells over all the other doors."
"If we try to go through the doors, what will the spells turn us into? It might be nice to be something different," Trap said.
"You'd be burned to a crisp," Halmarain said, then returned to her studies.
Trap decided that a crisp was not the most lively thing to be, since crisps didn't wander. He woke the little merch-esti and led him down the passage, following Ripple and the gully dwarves. They walked along the passage beyond the door where they had entered the wizard's lair. At the end, a second narrow hall led into a large scullery.
A huge hearth filled the far wall. To the right, wide shelves held more than twenty large, overturned kettles of various sizes. More than half were too large for the ken-der to lift. In the center of the room four tables, twenty feet long and six wide, provided a work space for an army of cooks. The tables had been made for the comfort of standing human cooks and their surfaces were at eye level to the kender. Umpth and Grod, short for gully dwarves, were no better off.
Ten tall stools stood around each table as if the workers had just stepped out. Fifty pottery jars bearing the names of spices, sat in a rack across from shelves of pots. Through an arch they could see huge earthen storage vessels standing rank on rank.
A small fire burned in the big grate. The merchesti gave a gurgle of pleasure when he felt the heat and was soon curled up on one end of the hearth.
"What a big place!" Ripple looked around.
"Let's explore," Trap suggested. He followed Ripple into the larder where the torches lit by themselves as the two walked in. Most of the huge jars were empty, but in the smaller ones they found a good supply of staples. Before long Ripple had made a maize pudding while Trap sliced rashers of bacon and had them sizzling in a skillet.
Just as Trap was taking up the bacon, Halmarain entered the chamber. She was still reading one of the red-bound books. She sniffed from time to time as if following her nose.
"Have you found out how to open the portal to the other plane?" Trap asked. He was already bored with the underground caverns.
"I may be coming to the answer," she said. "Let me read this and I'll tell you."
She ordered the gully dwarves back to sit on stools and reached up over her head to put the book on the table. She climbed the rungs of a stool, perched on the seat and continued to read.
The two kender brought the food to the table in bowls and trenchers. They brought spoons for the pudding, but the gully dwarves grabbed the bowls and shoved the pudding into their mouths with their dirty fingers.
Disgusted by the Aghar's lack of table manners, Trap searched for a topic of conversation to help cover the slurping. As he glanced at the wizard, he thought of a question he had wanted to ask.
"You're a dwarf," Trap observed. "What kind? Are you a Neidar or Klar?" His uncle had told him dwarves were suspicious of any magic that wasn't innate to their race. He doubted she could be from one of the Hylar clans, since they usually stayed in their deep caverns in the mountains, though they were sometimes seen on the surface if they were on a mission of some importance.
"I'm not a dwarf," she answered, too absorbed in her reading to sound irritated. "I'm human, believe it or not."