Trap vaulted into the saddle and raced to catch up with the little wizard. It was only luck that their next turn took them into an arroyo that definitely sloped down and to the west. Judging by the sounds in the distance, the goblins and the kobolds would be too busy with each other to chase them. When the sounds of battle faded, Trap reduced the pony's pace to a trot. After an hour of travel they left the last of the maze behind.
According to the map, the low line of hills that were an extension of the Vingaard Mountains, were no more than ten miles wide. It shouldn't have taken them more than six hours to cross the hills if they moved in a straight line. They had entered the maze early that morning, and the sun was just touching the horizon when they finally came in sight of the plain to the west.
They continued until they found a natural swale where the grass was tall and thick. They made camp in the semi-darkness, hobbling the ponies so they could graze. Since they lacked firewood, and could barely find enough thick limbed brush to satisfy Beglug's appetite, they made a cold camp.
"Pony tired," Grod said the next morning. "Me tired."
"We can't stay here," Halmarain said, looking around at the empty countryside. "Those kobolds and goblins may find our trail and we already know they outnumber us."
"By the sounds, they were having a great fight," Trap said wistfully. "They may have killed each other off, but maybe they didn't and they'll start fighting again. I'd be glad to go back and see."
"Yes! That's a good idea. I can go with you," Ripple said eagerly.
"With our luck, they may have joined forces," the little wizard griped.
"Look bad things, find bad things," Umpth told his brother as he shoved the last of his travel bread into his mouth.
"Think bad, find bad," Grod agreed. "Wizard think up bi-i-ig mess."
"I'll have no more gully dwarf philosophy," the little wizard snapped.
"I will," Ripple's voice grated with that particular harshness of kender anger. "If you can bring trouble on by thinking about it, then you can bring fortune on by thinking good thoughts."
"Kender optimism," Halmarain snapped. "Kender foolishness."
"Yes, kender optimism!" Trap said, wondering exactly what optimism meant. It sounded good, so he decided he must have some, since he agreed with his sister.
Halmarain glared at the kender and silently followed Ripple toward the pony carrying packs and bedrolls. The tiny wizard raised her bedroll to the pack frame, but she was too short to hold it in position and tie it. After three tries she slammed the roll to the ground and marched off to stand staring out into the distance. Trap and Ripple had loaded the pack animal and saddled the ponies when the little wizard returned.
"Perhaps you're right," she said reluctantly. "Maybe I do worry overmuch, but Orander is in that awful place, we have that… we have Beglug to worry about and all the dangers between here and Palanthus." She glanced at Ripple who did not seemed swayed by her explanation. "I'll decide that we're fortunate, that we'll be safe, and that we won't face any dangers. Will that satisfy you?"
"Great! And you'll feel better too," Trap said. Even if her good thoughts didn't really help, she might be happier and more fun on the journey.
"If we can just order up our good fortune, we should find a peaceful village with an inn before the day's journey is over," Halmarain said. "And a good wood pile to keep that… to keep Beglug from eating the furniture."
Beglug seemed to like riding though he was unable to mount without help. Trap picked up a few dried sticks and gave them to the merchesti to snack on. Umpth, the largest of the two gully dwarves, put both hands on the rusting iron rim of the wheel.
"Find good place," he intoned. "Find good food, good dump." He handed the wheel back to Grod and with the kender's help, climbed into the saddle.
Halmarain glared at the dwarves as, with a boost from Ripple, she mounted her own pony.
"We should stay in the foothills," she told Trap as they set out on their second full day's journey. "We'll travel slower, but there's less danger of being seen by anyone who might follow us."
Trap sighed and pulled out the roll of maps that had belonged to the captain of the ship on which they had sailed from Hylo to Solamnia. He reminded himself he must find the captain and return the maps the next time he was near a seaport.
How the ship's master had been so careless as to put them into Trap's pack by mistake, he would never understand. At that moment he was just glad of the error.
He unrolled a particularly pretty one that showed the western section of Solamnia and studied it as Halmarain led the way north. Some careful hand had painted it with different shades of brown for the hills and mountains, green for farm and range land, and blue for the seas and rivers. The locations of many cities, forts, and castles had been drawn in. Beneath some had been written the word "ruins." The map showed no villages, and the nearest point of civilization marked on the map was a fortress with the name of Ironrock.
With a road and fresh ponies they could reach it by nightfall, but traveling through the hills on tired mounts they would be two days reaching the fortress.
"Do you think many people live close to the mountains?" he asked Halmarain. "I hope the rest of the area isn't as deserted as this. We might find some friends- then again they might not be friendly, so many humans aren't-but we're thinking good thoughts so I'll pretend they will be."
"I'd be happy not to see another person or animal larger than a rabbit from here to Palanthus," Halmarain said as she adjusted her hair combs to keep her dark curling hair out of her face. "I'd just like a peaceful, quick journey."
"I like meeting people," Trap said. "Adventurers have so many tales to tell, and dwarves make such good stuff."
"Stuff that would end up in your pouches," Halmarain retorted, pulling a small spellbook from the bag she kept slung over her shoulder. She began to study, just giving the reins a tug now and then to keep the placid pony moving in the general direction she wanted it to go. Beglug's mount and the pack animal followed hers on long leads tied to her saddle.
Trap sighed and dropped back to ride beside his sister. She was still leading the two gully dwarves. Trap and Ripple wiled away the morning trading old gossip about their friends back home.
"Legup was more fun than this," Trap said as he shifted in the saddle. "We knew all the places, but at least there were people to talk to-"
"And everyone had a story," Ripple broke in to add her part. "I know! Tell us a tale of Uncle Trapspringer. That should be interesting."
"Him dead," Grod said.
"Yes. He never should have stepped into the middle of the fight between the goblins and the kobolds," Trap said as he began his story. "Of course, he didn't know he was going to get killed so we won't really blame him for making a mistake, and after all it was his last one…"
Trap wiled away a couple of hours letting his imagination soar.
"That was a wonderful tale," Ripple said when Trap had finished. She wiped away a tear as she mourned an uncle she had never had. "When we get back to Hylo, everyone will want to hear your tales."
"And before long every kender on Krynn will have an Uncle Trapspringer," Halmarain said. Until she spoke she had given no hint that she was listening.
"Why would every kender want one?" Trap asked, suspicious of the remark.
"They'll need one to keep up with your tales. I don't imagine they'll want to tell stories about your uncle when they can claim him for themselves. He has died so many times there will have to be a thousand of him. Before you get through he will have traveled all over this world and to the moons too."