It was not, by anyone's account, turning out to be a good day, even for Tasslehoff. In the rolling foothills of the Eastwall Mountains, they had stopped to rest. Selana sat demurely on a dry stump; Tanis was on the ground at her feet, his back against it. Flint paced angrily before the kender, who lay on his stomach on the soft earth, his head propped up by his elbows, his eyes on the map spread before him.

"How do we know that mountain isn't new?" he asked defensively. "They were springing up left, right, and center during the Cataclysm, you know-couldn't hardly spit without hitting a new one. This map of mine is perfectly good." The kender gave it a thump for emphasis.

Having consulted one of Tasslehoff's many guides before leaving Solace, the companions saw that there were only three villages of any size to the north: Que-taw, Ravenvale, and Tantallon, and the only established route to the north went farther east than it needed before actually turning north. They thought they would save time by going cross-country, then cutting east in terrain that looked free and clear on Tas's map. They had traveled north out of Solace along the eastern shore of Crystalmir Lake and crossed into an area known as the Near Fields. For the entire overcast afternoon they walked north at the base of the Eastwall Mountains, looking for the range to stop so they could cut east. They had long ago passed the point on the map where the mountains should have ended.

"Tasslehoff," Flint began patiently, "have you ever, honestly, been to this area before? Did you make this map yourself?"

Tasslehoff looked sheepish. "Not entirely. One day I just sort of found it in my pack, so I'm not exactly sure where it came from." His eyebrows lifted in thought, and

he took a quill and bottle of ink out of his pack. "I've been adding to it, though, and now would be a good time to mark in the rest of that mountain range, wouldn't it?" He scratched at the paper with his quill, biting his lip in concentration.

"There's no point in a lecture now, Flint," said Tanis wearily, handing the dwarf a chunk of hard bread and a slice of jerky from his pack of supplies. "Let's just eat something and press on."

Flint took the food, dropped to the grass, and chewed. He looked up at the fading sunlight. "This looks as good as anyplace to make camp for the night. Besides, I'm sure Selana's feet have swelled up like hams, now that she's been off them for ten minutes."

All eyes turned to the bedraggled princess, who was munching on a crust of bread, having declined the offer of meat with a disdainful wrinkle of her nose.

Selana was, without a doubt, having the worst time of it. Her cheeks were speckled with dried, crusty mud from the numerous times she had slipped on the trail or tripped over her robe and fallen. Her beautiful blue robe was ripped at the hem, where merciless shrubs had latched onto it. Her soft leather boots were downright mud-caked and provided no cushion against the unyielding terrain. No doubt partly as a consequence, she had been most irritable and was keeping to herself and speaking only in response to direct questions, while refusing any offers of help.

"I'll be fine, really," she protested weakly. "I'm just unused to all this walking."

"That's right!" exclaimed Tasslehoff. "You probably swim mostly, considering where you're from. But don't you ever walk on the bottom of the sea?"

Selana looked at his curious face and became self-conscious. "Sometimes," she responded in a clipped voice.

"I'm glad you brought the subject up, because I have a number of very important questions," said the kender, who was poised to take notes. "Is there sunlight underwater? I'll bet not, so how do you see? Do your fingers and toes get all pruny, too? Are there doors, or even buildings? If not, how do you keep things from getting stolen?

"And what about talking? Anytime I've tried to speak underwater, all I get is bubbles and a snootful of water. So you probably have to put up with that all the time. What I really wonder is, how do you breath underwater? Perhaps you could show me how in a bucket sometime."

"Tasslehoff!" Tanis shrieked, aghast.

"What?" asked the kender, his eyes wide with innocence.

Instead of being offended, Selana laughed for the first time. "I don't blame Tasslehoff for being inquisitive about someone who's different-I confess to a curiosity about land dwellers, as well," she said to Tanis, before turning to the kender. "I don't know about the bucket, but I'll be happy to answer your questions, if you answer mine and help me to learn your customs."

"With pleasure!" Beaming, Tasslehoff looped his arm for her to take hold of, escorting the sea elf princess from the stump to a more secluded spot near a blooming crab tree. "Let's continue our talk in private." He sniffed over his shoulder for Tanis's benefit.

Flint and Tanis watched the two go.

"Well, if that isn't rich." Tanis scowled after them. "I ask a few intelligent questions-defend her privacy, for gods' sake-and I'm an impertinent jerk who doesn't deserve to live." The exasperated half-elf wagged his hand at the kender, who was happily seated next to the sea elf, engaged in conversation. "He openly insults her, and they become the greatest of friends. She probably finds his precociousness cute or something."

"Not jealous of a kender now, are you?" teased Flint, watching the half-elf out of the corner of his eye.

"Certainly not!" huffed Tanis. "I'd just like to understand the rules, that's all."

Still giving Selana a puzzled glance, Tanis set off in search of firewood. Feeling suddenly cold, he looked to the darkening sky and pulled down the sleeves of his deerskin jerkin for extra warmth. But the half-elf knew his chill had nothing to do with the weather.

Dinner, served two hours later, was braised ham steak, more bread, and dried p as soaked in ham juice until moist, then heated through. Flint soaked up the last of the tasty gravy with his bread, popped it into his mouth, and downed it with one satisfied gulp. He leaned back against a boulder rolled near the fire, patted his full stomach, and belched contentedly.

"Nobody can say you're not a good cook, Tasslehoff," he said. The dwarf locked his fingers behind his head. "Why doesn't someone tell a story?"

Tanis put up his hands. "You've heard all of mine a thousands times over."

"Selana knows a good one," blurted Tas.

The sea elf blushed. "I'm sure they wouldn't want to hear it." She was looking at Tanis.

"Sure they would!" exclaimed Tas. "Tell her you want to hear it, Tanis!"

Flint noticed the half-elf's chagrined expression. "We're interested in hearing anything about your people that you're willing to tell us," he said kindly.

"I'm always intrigued to hear of other customs and cultures," Tanis finally managed to say. He turned to the kender with a grin. "Since you've heard this story already, Tas, I vote it's your turn to go find some wood for the fire."

"It's dark beyond the firelight," said Selana. "Here,

take this, Tasslehoff." She reached into the depths of her robe and withdrew a small, curved sea shell. "It's a special conch shell. Hold it right here-" she placed Tasslehoffs hand on the rounded edge "-and point it anywhere you need illumination." Tas and the others were startled as muted yellow light poured from the opening in the shell.

"Wow! How does it do that?" asked Tas. "Is that how everyone sees underwater?"

"No, it's my own invention," the sea elf admitted vaguely.

"You mean, it's magical," cut in Tanis. "You didn't mention you were a mage."

"I am a spellcaster of some ability, yes," admitted Selana. "You never asked. Besides, after your comment back in Solace, I thought it might make Flint uncomfortable."