Dragonlance 04 - Time of the Twins by Margaret Weis

Peering back out the window, he saw the shapeless bundle napping in the gutter.

    Relieved on that point, Tasslehoff paused to look around the house, his sharp eyes taking in everything, his hands touching everything.

    "My, isn't this interesting," went Tas's running commentary as he headed for the closed door from beyond which came the crashing sounds. "Tika won't mind if I study it for a moment. I'll put it right back." The object tumbled, of its accord, into his pouch. "And look at this! Uh-oh, there's a crack in it. She'll thank me for telling her about it." That object slipped into another pouch. "And what's the butter dish doing clear over here? I'm sure Tika kept it in the pantry. I better return it to its proper place." The butter dish settled into a third pouch.

    By this time, Tas had reached the closed door. Turning the handle—(he was thankful to see Tika hadn't locked it as well!)—he walked inside.

    "Hullo," he said merrily. "Remember me? Say, this looks like fun! Can I play? Give me something to throw at him, too, Tika. Gee, Caramon"—Tas entered the bedroom and walked over to where Tika stood, a breastplate in her hand, staring at him in profound astonishment—"what is the matter with you—you look awful, just awful! Say, why are we throwing armor at Caramon, Tika?" Tas asked, picking up a chain mail vest and turning to face the big warrior, who had barricaded himself behind the bed. "Is this something you two do regularly? I've heard married couples do some strange things, but this seems kind of weird—”

    "Tasslehoff Burrfoot!" Tika recovered her power of speech. "What in the name of the gods are you doing here?"

    "Why, I'm sure Tanis must have told you I was coming," Tas said, hurling the chain mail at Caramon. "Hey—this is fun! I found the front door locked." Tas gave her a reproachful glance. "In fact, I had to come in a window, Tika," he said severely. "I think you might have more consideration. Anyway, I'm supposed to meet Lady Crysania here and—”

    To Tas's amazement, Tika dropped the breastplate, burst into tears, and collapsed onto the floor. The kender looked over at Caramon, who was rising up from behind the backboard like a spectre rising from the grave. Caramon stood looking at Tika with a lost and wistful expression. Then he picked his way through pieces of armor that lay scattered about on the floor and knelt down beside her.

    "Tika," he whispered pathetically, patting her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean all those things I said, you know that. I love you! I've always loved you. It's just . . . I don't know what to do!"

    "You know what to do!" Tika shouted. Pulling away from him, she sprang to her feet. "I just told you! Lady Crysania's in danger. You've got to go to her!"

    "Who is this Lady Crysania?" Caramon yelled back. "Why should I give a damn whether she's in danger or not?"

    "Listen to me for once in your life," Tika hissed through clenched teeth, her anger drying her tears. "Lady Crysania is a powerful cleric of Paladine, one of the most powerful in the world, next to Elistan. She was warned in a dream that Raistlin's evil could destroy the world. She is going to the Tower of High Sorcery in Wayreth to talk to Par-Salian to-"

    "To get help destroying him, isn't that it?" Caramon snarled.

    "And what if they did?" Tika flared. "Does he deserve to live? He'd kill you without a second thought!"

    Caramon's eyes flashed dangerously, his face flushed. Tas gulped, seeing the big man's fist clench, but Tika walked right up to stand in front of him. Though her head barely came to his chin, Tas thought the big man cowered at her anger. His hand opened weakly.

    "But, no, Caramon," Tika said grimly, "she doesn't want to destroy him. She's just as big a fool as you are. She loves your brother, may the gods help her. She wants to save him, to turn him from evil."

    Caramon stared at Tika in wonder. His expression softened.

    "Truly?" he said.

    "Yes, Caramon," Tika said