"I'm lowering it," the woman called out. "It's coming down on your right. See it?"
He saw it-a thin, pink shawl dangling in the wind.
He grabbed it with his free hand. The shawl, and other shawls of red, blue, purple, and yellow to which it was tied, went taut.
Breathlessly, Tanis called out, "What's your end tied to?"
"A cart," came the reply. "I put stones under the wheels, but it's sliding toward the edge of the cliff. The cart's too light, and I can't hold it. Hurry!"
Tanis heaved himself up the multicolored rope of shawls as if he were climbing a vine in the forest.
"Hurry!" the woman pleaded. "The cart's sliding faster!"
Hand over hand, Tanis struggled. His arms ached, and his mouth was as dry as the loose dirt that kept breaking away from the rock face.
But he was getting close to the top. Just a few more heaves up the makeshift rope…
The half-elf looked up, hoping to see a hand stretched out to help him. Instead, he heard a scream and saw the cart coming over the top of the cliff. He wasn't going to make it!
The cart tumbled over the edge, smacking into Tanis, who had been a mere few feet below it when it fell.
Stunned by the blow, Tanis knew only that something terrible had happened. He flailed helplessly as the churning sea rushed up to meet him-until a wind like no other Tanis had experienced blew up from beneath him with such force that it stopped his fall and sent him flying upward. At the same instant, the cart crashed into the sea- cliff, breaking apart in the wind. Splintered wood whipped all around him, its lighter weight sending it careening skyward far faster than Tanis's own flight.
Unable to breathe, Tanis tried to turn over on his back as he soared ever higher on an invisible carpet of air. All he could manage, though, was to roll over and over as the wind caught his arms, turning him in ever-faster circles. On one of his revolutions, he caught sight of Scowarr surging skyward, catching up with him.
By the time Tanis reached the lip of the seacliff wall, Little Shoulders was within easy reach. His face a portrait in terror, Scowarr reached out with both hands and gripped Tanis's left shin so hard that the half-elf thought the human might snap it.
They floated up over the top of the cliff, where the calmer air sucked them out of the gale. They hit the ground in a sprawl, tearing up meadow flowers as they rolled over the bumpy ground.
Confused, gasping for air, Tanis lay still for a moment. Then he remembered the woman. He struggled to his knees and, sensing a presence behind him, turned.
The woman, a matronly dwarf with eyes like green chips of malachite, ran toward him. Walking slowly behind her was a young man who also looked vaguely familiar. Tanis's senses were still reeling, and he had trouble focusing.
The woman reached him first and took his bloody hands in her own. "I heard a cry and that's when I saw you," she said in a comforting, motherly voice-the same voice that had signaled rescue from the top of the cliff. "I thought you'd be killed for certain when my cart went over the cliff." Her hand moved to his forehead. "I'm so sorry I couldn't stop it."
Her hands were soft and warm. Instinctively, he leaned close and breathed in her scent. It was a fragrance of spring flowers tinged with the clean aroma of fresh cotton. He felt comforted by her presence.
"I'm sorry about your cart," he said finally, feeling a deep pang of guilt. "You lost everything, didn't you?"
"It was nothing compared to the loss of a life." She glanced at Scowarr, who was finally stirring. "Two lives."
"I… we… thank you most sincerely for what you tried to do," Tanis said with humility.
"What about me?" boomed the man, who swaggered up behind the woman. "Don't I get any thanks? After all, it was my magic that actually saved you."
Tanis blinked. The face was thinner, the hair thick and black, and the robes clean and crimson. Was it Kishpa? The man was so young, so healthy, so full of vigor. His blue eyes gleamed in a young face. It seemed impossible. Yet…
"You will speak to Yeblidod, but not to me?" questioned the man good-humoredly. He turned to the woman and kidded her, saying, "Mertwig will be jealous." Then, more seriously, he added, "Don't be concerned about your loss. I'll talk to Mertwig about replacing what went over the cliff."
She looked up at the wizard and nodded humbly.
Meanwhile, in his mind's eye, Tanis tried to picture him as an ancient man with charred skin, lying on a blanket, begging for help. They were so much the same, yet so markedly different.
Although still dazed, Tanis knew that he had to be careful. He remembered Kishpa's warning: "There will be many who will try to stop you. I can warn you about one of them… me."
When the mage turned back to him, Tanis awkwardly tried to rise to his feet. "I'm sorry for my lack of good manners," said Tanis. "Let me thank you now." He swayed but remained erect; even though he still heard the wind howling in his ears, only a light, early afternoon breeze ruffled the flowers and grasses at the top of the cliff. "May your magic always be a blessing to you," he added with an unsteady bow.
The woman reached out and took his arm to keep him from falling.
The magic-user bowed in return, saying, "Your words do you credit. But I must say," he added, narrowing his eyes, "you are not of my village, and your blood lines appear to be, let us say, betwixt and between. One might ask where your loyalties lie."
Accustomed to such queries, Tanis was able to reply evenly although annoyance, as usual, burned just below the surface. He pretended to be unaware of Kishpa's elven bloodlines. "My loyalties lie with those who call me friend," Tanis said steadily. "And you? To my eye, you appear to be a human and potentially an enemy to Ankatavaka yourself. Where are your loyalties?"
The dwarf pulled at Tanis's sleevie. "You know not of what you speak," she said, apparently embarrassed to be overheard by the wizard. "This is Kishpa, grandson of Tokandi, who was a much-revered elder of Ankatavaka."
"Who was also a notorious lover of human females," the young Kishpa chimed in with a hearty laugh. "My father was like you," he said, gesturing at Tanis. "He was a half-elf. He married a human woman-it seems to be a family weakness-and they gave birth to me. You ask me of my loyalties. I answer: This is my home. These are my people, and the humans who have gathered to attack it are my enemies. Enemies," he added with sudden harshness, "like this one." He pointed at Scowarr.
Little Shoulders seemed to shrivel with fear. He was not only speechless, but for once, jokeless. Kishpa's life- saving magic had left him awestruck.
"Scowarr is no enemy of yours," Tanis intervened. 'The humans tried to kill him, and he fled. And when I was about to be killed by this same enemy, he saved my life. Let a man's actions speak for him, rather than the accident of his birth."
Kishpa studied Tanis. "Ah, a philosopher, too?"
"Hardly."
The wizard smiled. "And modest. But tell me this- what is your name?"
"Tanthalas, or Tanis, as you please."
'Tell me, Tanis, what brings you to this place7" Kishpa's voice lowered. "Why are you here, and why now?"
The intensity of the man's tone startled Tanis. It was as if this young Kishpa suspected something. Lying was not in the half-elf's nature; on the other hand, he feared telling the young mage the real reason he had come. Vet he had to say something, something that was true, so he blurted, "A dying man asked me to find someone for him. I came as soon as I could, and I will leave for home, I think, very soon. At least I hope so."
Kishpa seemed unconvinced. Tanis wondered if he had blundered already.
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