“We couldn’t even come back for your father’s funeral!” Usha continued. “We were permitted to leave only because I agreed to paint a portrait of the magistrate’s wife. She has a face that would have been ugly on a hobgoblin. Now you want me to leave again.”
“It’s for your own safety.”
“What about your safety?” she demanded.
“I can take care of myself.”
“Can you, Palin?” Usha asked. Her voice was suddenly gentle. She reached out, tried to take hold of his hands in her own.
“Yes,” he snapped and snatched his crippled hands away, folded them in the sleeves of his robes.
Tasslehoff, feeling extremely uncomfortable, wished he could crawl inside the pantry and shut the door. Unfortunately, there was no room, not even after he’d cleared out a space by stashing several interesting-looking objects in his pockets.
“Very well, if that’s how you feel. I’m not to touch you apparently”—Usha folded her arms across her chest—“but I do think you owe me an explanation. What is going on? Why did you send this kender here claiming to be Tas! What are you up to?”
“We’re keeping Mistress Jenna waiting—”
“I’m sure she won’t mind. I am your wife, in case you’ve forgotten!” Usha tossed her silver hair. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you had. We never see each other anymore.”
“Don’t start that again!” he shouted angrily and turned away toward the door.
“Palin!” Usha reached out her hand impulsively. “I love you! I want to help you!”
“You can’t help me!” he cried, rounding on her. “No one can.” He lifted his hands, held them to the light, the fingers crooked and turned inward like the claws of a bird. “No one can,” he repeated.
More silence. Tas recalled the time he’d been a prisoner in the Abyss. He had felt very alone then, desolate and unhappy.
Strangely, he was feeling the same now sitting in his friends’ kitchen. He lacked the spirit to even give the lock on the silver cabinet a second glance.
“I am sorry, Usha,” Palin said stiffly. “You are right. You deserve an explanation. This kender is Tasslehoff.”
Usha shook her head.
“Do you remember my father telling the story about how he and Tas traveled back in time?” Palin continued.
“Yes,” she answered, her voice tight.
“They did so by means of a magical artifact. Tasslehoff used that same device to jump forward in time so he could speak at Caramon’s funeral. He was here once, but he overshot the mark. He arrived too late. The funeral was over, so he came back a second time. In this instance, he was on time. Only everything was different. The other future he saw was a future of hope and happiness. The gods had not gone away. I was head of the Order of White Robes. The elven kingdoms were united—”
“And you believe all this?” Usha asked, amazed.
“I do,” Palin said stubbornly. “I believe it because I have seen the device, Usha. I’ve held it in my hands. I’ve felt its power. That’s why Mistress Jenna is here. I need her advice. And that’s why it’s not safe for you to stay in Solace. The dragon knows I have the device. I’m not sure how she found out, but I fear someone in Laurana’s household may be a traitor. If so, Beryl may already be aware that I have brought the device to Solace. She’ll send her people to try to—”
“You’re going to use it!” Usha gasped, pointed her finger at Palin.
He made no response.
“I know you, Palin Majere,” Usha said. “You’re planning to use the device yourself! To try to go back in time and . . . and. . . who knows what else!”
“I’ve only been thinking about it,” he returned, uneasily. “I haven’t made up my mind. That’s why I needed to speak to Mistress Jenna.”
“You planned to speak to her and not to me? Your wife?”
“I was going to tell you,” Palin said.
“Tell me? Not ask me? Not ask me what I thought about this insanity? Not ask my opinion? No.” She answered her own question. “You intend to do this whether I want you to or not. No matter how dangerous. No matter that you could be killed!”
“Usha,” he said, after a moment, “it’s so very important. The magic. . . if I could. . .” He shook his head, unable to explain. His voice trailed away.
“The magic is dead, Palin,” Usha cried, her voice choked with tears. “Good riddance, I say. What did it ever do for you? Nothing except destroy you and ruin our marriage.”
He reached out his hand, but this time she was the one who pulled away. “I’m going to the Inn,” she said, not looking at him.
“Let me know if . . . if you want me to come home.”
Turning away from him, she walked over to Tas. Usha looked him over long and hard. “You really are Tas, aren’t you?” she said, awed.
“Yes, Usha,” Tas said miserably. “But I wish right now I wasn’t.”
She leaned down, kissed him on the forehead. He could see the unshed tears shimmer in her golden eyes.
“Good-bye, Tas. It was nice to see you again.”
“I’m sorry, Usha,” he wailed. “I didn’t mean to make a mess of things. I just came back to speak at Caramon’s funeral.”
“It’s not your fault Tas. Things were a mess long before you came.”
Usha left the kitchen, walking past Palin without glancing at him. He stood where she had left him, staring at nothing, his expression dark, his face pale. Tas heard Usha say something to Jenna, something he couldn’t quite catch. He heard Jenna respond, but he couldn’t catch that either. Usha left the house. The front door shut with a bang. The house was silent except for Jenna’s restive pacing. Still Palin did not move.
Tas reached into several of his pockets and at last located the device. He removed some string that had become tangled around it dusted off the lint from his pocket and some crumbs from a biscuit he’d meant to eat two days ago.
“Here, Palin,” Tas said, holding out the device. “You can have it.”
Palin stared at him, uncomprehending.
“Go on,” Tas said, pushing the device at him. “If you want to use it like Usha said you did, I’ll let you. Especially if you can go back and make things the way they’re supposed to be. That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? Here,” Tas said insistently and gave the device a shake, which caused its jewels to wink.
“Take it!” Jenna said.
Tas was startled. He had been so intent on Palin, he hadn’t heard Jenna come into the kitchen. She stood in the doorway, the door partially ajar.
“Take it!” she repeated urgently. “Palin, you were worried about overcoming the geas laid on the device, the spell that would always return the device to the person who uses it. Such a geas would protect the owner if the device was ever stolen or lost but if the device is freely given, this act may break the geas!”
“I don’t know anything about gewgaws,” said Tas, “but I know that I’ll let you use the device if you want to.”
Palin lowered his head. His gray hair fell forward, covering his face, but not before Tas had seen the pain that contorted and twisted it into a face he did not recognize. Reaching out Palin took hold of the device, his crooked fingers wrapping around it lovingly.
Tas watched the device go with something akin to relief.
Whenever the device was in his possession, he could always hear Fizban’s voice reminding him in irritable tones that he wasn’t supposed to be off having adventures. He was supposed to go back to his own time. And while this adventure certainly left a lot to be desired as far as adventures go—what with being cursed and having to see Usha cry and discovering that he didn’t like Palin anymore—Tas was starting to think that even a bad adventure was probably better than being stepped on by a giant.
“I can tell you how it works,” Tas offered.
Palin placed the device on the kitchen table. He sat there staring at it, not saying a word.