I'm back!!!! Sorry that took so long, I have waaaaaaaay too much homework . . . and I whine about my

homework way too much.

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonlance. I don't even own the plot. Weis and Hickman own Dragonlance, Charles Dickens owns the plot.

Thank you Stacey, Nicolette, Chetwynd, Corinne, Dreya Blackurn, Muslima, and Laralanthalasa for reviewing!

Chapter Three

As the night wore on, Raistlin convinced himself quite thoroughly that he had dozed off, that Nikora was a figment of his imagination. He had not, he reminded himself occasionally, heard the aforesaid figment mention "the other two."

Roughly an hour later, the mage decided to get some sleep. He stumbled to the door, intending to make Dalamar get him some tea, just in case.

Oddly, though, there was someone blocking his way. Raistlin sucked in a breath. This would not do . . .

He did not allow kender in his Tower!

"Out," Raistlin said in a voice of frozen steel. "Get out now."

The kender smirked. "So sorry to disappoint you, Majere, but you really can't order me around. Oh, what's the matter? Never seen an evil kender before?

"Well, that's me. The only evil kender in the history of Krynn, far as I know. Hm? Still tongue-tied, Majere?"

Raistlin's eyes were about the size of his twin's biceps.

"My name's Takhin. Changed it after awhile, used to be something long, very kender-ish.

Couldn't stand it after I turned to Takhisis. Now, if you'll just let me take your arm—" The kender clapped a hand over Raistlin's wrist— "we'll be on our way to certain other parts of Krynn to see what everyone else is up to this Yuletide."

A bright, blinding light covered Raistlin and Takhin, clearing away to reveal a room in the Tower of Palanthas— Dalamar's.

The dark elf sat on his bed with his head leaning back against his pillow. He had obviously been crying earlier; the red rims of his eyes stood out clearly against pale skin. A spellbook rested in his lap, but Dalamar did not seem to be in the mood for studying.

Now Raistlin's smirk mirrored the one the kender's face had held earlier. "Oh, did the party mean that much to him? That makes my heart hurt, it really does!"

To Raistlin's surprise, Takhin frowned at him. "It is sad. Don't make fun of him."

"So says the evil kender," the archmagus retorted.

Shadows of pain lurked behind Takhin's eyes. "I've learned, Majere. I've learned . . . But I could have learned before it was too late."

"So original."

"It's true," protested the kender defensively. "I was visited by spirits too, you know. And I thought everything they said was a piece of junk not fit to grace the pouches of one of my relatives." He shrugged. "And now I have to run around clearing up everyone else's screwed up lives every holiday."

"How very—"

"Look, Majere, if it's sarcastic it doesn't need to be said right now. And if watching one of maybe three people in the whole gods-cursed world who actually care about you cry about what you did to him doesn't faze you, we're leaving."

"Unfazed. Completely unfazed."

Takhin grabbed Raistlin's wrist, and the archmage winced at the bright light that surrounded them. It faded to show a simply furnished room; Lady Crysania sat on the bed, staring out the window.

"All right, Majere, just watch. No stupid comments, no intelligent comments. Just watch."

Raistlin watched.

He had been working on keeping his eyes from glazing over for about ten minutes when Crysania stood up, brushed and braided her hair, and went to bed.

The archmagus turned to Takhin. "I fear that the meaning of whatever you were attempting to get across was lost on me."

"She was up terribly late, wasn't she?"

"Kender, if you expect me to be concerned with a priestess's sleeping habits . . ."

"Why d'you suppose she's up late?"

"By Nuitari, I don't know! Maybe she ate too much! Maybe she's just not tired! Nuitari, I'm still up, too!"

"She was distressed, idiot!" the kender snapped. "And why d'you think she was—"

"How very odd. I never considered the Revered Daughter a damsel in distress."

"Y'know what, Majere?" Takhin hissed. "Y'know what? There were other things I was going to show you tonight. I was going to take you to your brother's house, show you him filling up Christmas stockings and wishing you were there, helping. Show you his son, Palin, who you've never even met, who needs a magic teacher so badly. But, Raistlin Majere, I am going to leave you to the mercy of the third spirit, you are so damned thick—"

The kender didn't finish his sentence, and after another flash of light, Raistlin found himself back in his room; the kender was gone.

I am going to leave you to the mercy of the third spirit . . .

Raistlin's golden skin paled. Both spirits had left him feeling nervous. He did not look forward to a third supernatural tour of Krynn.

A/N: I know Raistlin's kind of out-of-character here, sorry about that.

Thanks a trillion and some times to Ebony Moonlight for teaching me how to use italics!!! I am eternally grateful! ^_^

Thanks also, those of you who reviewed:

Stacey: Okay, you can have Raistlin and Neal, as long as I get Dalamar and Owen. Deal?

Nicolette: Thanks!!! ^_^

Chetwynd: Turkey? What's this about turkey? I like turkey . . .

Choorananaeth: Thanks, sis! *huggles*

Dreya Blackurn: He'll feel guilty by the time the third spirit's through with him . . . oh yes . . .

Muslima: Thank you! By the way, is this Zakyu an alter ego or something? Just curious.

Laralanthalasa: Thanks; it's so great getting a review from someone who writes such great fanfiction. ^_^

Another spell checker thing, it suggested McGee for Majere . . . Raistlin McGee just doesn't sound cool.