Tanis." The mage suddenly coughed up blood. He wiped it off his fire-scarred face, breathlessly forging on. "While I'm still conscious, I'm going to cast a spell. I will send you deep into my memory, back to the time when I knew my Brandella best and when your father came to my village." He stopped and Clotnik gave him a worried look.
Few sounds broke the morning calm; pieces of charred wood occasionally thumped against each other in the lake, and a branch broke with a crack and dropped to the littered ground only yards away. The smell of smoke was still strong. The half-elf and the dwarf were silent as they waited for the aging wizard to overcome the latest spasm of pain. Tanis watched the mage's shallow breath barely move the charred robes that once, he knew, had been red and velvety.
A fierce expression crossed the mage's face; he refused to let the pain stand in his way. "Learn what you will about your father," he said, "but find my Brandella and escape from my mind with her so that when I die, she will live on. I don't want her memory to die with me, Tanis. Do you understand? I love her too much to see her perish with me. Find her. Free her."
The old man slumped back, watching Tanis with a stare that now waned from demanding to hopeful. "Will you do it?" Kishpa asked weakly.
To actually see his father? To meet him? "Yes," he replied. There could be no other answer.
The mage managed a smile. "There is much you should know," he said, "but I must concentrate now and build my strength for the spell. Clotnik," he called, "tell Tanis what to expect. And be quick. Time is short."
Clotnik took Tanis by the arm and led him a short distance away. They seated themselves on the log, now wedged on the bank, that had sustained them during the night. Clotnik looked out over the lake, his thoughtful green eyes soft as moss agates. Wrinkles creased the dwarf's skin around his eyes, and Tanis realized that his companion might not be as young as he'd thought. Clotnik began speaking as if from a long distance.
"Kishpa knew Brandella long ago, during a time of war," explained the juggler. 'There was disease, and humans were in flight, sending their armies westward to untainted lands. They marched against scattered elven villages north of Qualinesti, vowing to drive those in their path into the Straits of Algoni."
Tanis knew of the wars between the humans and elves, of course. Those invasions were yet another reason the two races remained suspicious of each other-and another reason members of both sides considered Tanis, a product of those violent years, an outcast.
"And my father?" he prompted.
Clotnik looked at him for the first time, his eyes sympathetic. "Your father was among those soldiers. I tell you this so that you are prepared for what lies ahead. Violence and bloodshed will surround you, and you could become their victim. It is possible that you could die in Kishpa's memory."
"I will be careful," Tanis promised.
Clotnik shook his head, however, and put one hand on Tanis's muscular forearm. "Death is only one of the dangers," he warned.
Tanis looked aside at the old mage, lying a few yards away on the sandy ground and marshaling his strength for the ordeal ahead. The half-elf replied, "I must take the risks." Then, when the dwarf remained silent, Tanis looked back at him. "All right. Explain them."
Clotnik removed his hand from Tanis's arm and ventured on. "Kishpa doesn't know what will happen if a stranger enters his past. You may change the whole direction of his life, you may change only his memories, or you may change nothing at all. He is willing to risk any consequences just as long as you find Brandella and return with her before he dies. If he should breathe no more, neither will you." The dwarvish gaze grew as sharp as one of Hint's forged swords. "At least not in his memory," Clotnik went on. "What will happen to you- whether you will ever be able to return to this life-he does not know, either."
Tanis sat