Special thank's to chickens, Guan and Dalamar for reviewing. And greetings to my new beta-reader. Now, onward with the story:

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Part four - Hiding the Truth

"What?" Nima stared shocked at the elf. Oops, now things had gone a little bit out of hand...

"Not what." he said dangerously cold. "Who? You are not my Master."

"Um..."

How was she to come up on top and out of this mess alive? How was she to explain? She couldn't tell him the truth. He was a big, bad, bullying buddy and he would probably rather strike her down than help her. She needed time. Time to think and invent a proper strategy.

"How did you find out?" she whispered.

"My Shalafi never taught me lectures about runes."

"Oh."

Nima watched this blade of his closely. A dangerous situation. But, hey, Danger was Fun!

"I... I... I think I should explain..."

"Well?"

She could sense that his patience was nearly expended.

"I... lost my memory!" she blurted.

That hit him.

"You... what?"

"I lost my memory. I don't know what I did before you found me. I still don't know where I am and I have trouble to figure who I am myself."

He looked thoughtful now but the blade didn't waver a bit.

"This is a joke." he said.

"No. It's probably due to the magic. A magical accident."

He shook his head.

"Nice try, spy. And now, where is my Shalafi?"

Oh, he had taken her for a spy. No wonder he had reacted like this. So, that was his problem. Why did the big ones always have to be so paranoid? However, that was something to build on.

"Look." she began in the same tone, she used when explaining Runino, her little brother how to pick pockets. "If I was a spy, sent by a hypothetical and powerful foe, if I did overcome all the obstacles to fill in the position of your master, would I really have behaved like I did?"

He didn't retort but she could see by his narrowed eyes that he was considering her point.

"Oh well." she said frankly. "Let's test it. Do whatever you want. Do magic. Find out, whether I am an illusion, or transformation or whatever. If I am, it is better we both know it at once. Test me. I will hold still. And if your tests prove that I am real, you may help me to find out who I am and what I did. Deal?"

Well, Dalamar had agreed. He had taken her not to the laboratory but to his master's study room and performed different spells on her. Several hours later, Nima sat exhausted on a bench in the study. The last hours had been filled with strange commands from the dark elf. "Close your eyes.", "Stand still!", "Get over there."

She knew none of the spells. But she knew the outcome. It seemed that he hadn't found anything. Diverse means of identifying a person had led to only one possible conclusion. Nima was his master. That was perfectly logical and, unfortunately for Dalamar, totally incorrect. But how should he guess that she was a girl that was captured in the body of his master. Things like these didn't happen frequently. Not even to mages. Right now the elf had made her drink a bitter substance and chanted a strange incantation while observing her. A frustrated line appeared between his brows. Nima leaned back and looked around. What a big room. If it wasn't for a strange eerie coldness that traversed the hall in spite of a homely fire in the huge fireplace, the room could have had an atmosphere of cozyness maybe. Big comfortable chairs and soft candlelight invited the visitor to sit down and read one of the thousands of books that were collected in here.

Nevertheless, things began to be boring. When did Dalamar realize that his magic wouldn't grant him any further clues? When would he accept her version that she,- his master-, had just lost her memories? Why couldn't he just give in? She wanted to take a bath. She needed rest. And tomorrow she had to find out how to change everything back. But that was for tomorrow. Nima decided that she could live within a mage's body for the night. She just waited for the elf to stop.

Finally he gave up. He was forced to admit that, according to magical investigation, she was neither an illusion, nor a shapechanger, nor a demon in disguise. So she must be Raistlin. Ah, this was the name of her host. Raistlin. Note to self: Must not forget name.

"Oh well, after we have this fixed, can you please accept that I just have a memory problem and help me get it back tomorrow? I am really tired now."

"Well, yes, master. Please forgive me but I had to make sure you are not an intruder."
"I understand but I want to rest by now. If you can just show me the bathroom, I'll be fine."

He was shocked.

"Master, you even forgot the rooms of your residence?"

Nima pondered for a second, if she should reveal how far her "memory loss" went. Perhaps it was not the wisest thing to do. But on the other hand she was tired of lying to him all the time. She smiled her most charming smile.

"Unfortunately, I even forgot who you are."

The elf breathed deeply, but stayed calm at these news. Since he had no other option for the moment he had to accept the fact that his master was like a stranger to him.

"My name is Dalamar. I am your apprentice."

"Hello Dalamar. Nice to meet you."

He rolled his eyes, but didn't question her further. It seemed that he was more shocked about the situation than she was. Well, that was surely because he was a Big One. Biggies always took everything much too serious. To Nima, the situation didn't seem so bad. Oh yes, she was now an evil mage, but she had already gotten something decent to eat. And tomorrow there was a tower of sorcery to explore. And that Dalamar-elf was quite nice when he didn't wield blades of fire at her. As long as she could convince him that she was just Master Raistlin with amnesia, they would get along well. Oh, she would have to tell wonderful stories when she was back home. And of course she would be back in time. There had to be a way. There was always one.

Then he had brought her to the bathroom. A nice room. Much more comfortable than the few cheap bathhouses she had visited in her life. Everything in here was of exquisit quality. And there was so much space. The room had nearly the size of her family's caravan. And while her home was stuffed with the personal belongings of four people, this room here contained only a drawer for towels, a shelf with soap and essences and a big, wooden bathtub. Right now, it was filled with water. Dalamar went to the tub and leaned over the water. He murmured something and touched the surface. In an instant steam rose from the tube. Oh, a heating spell. The man was so practical. Great.

She remembered Hrongar speaking about this kind of spells. He had called it house-keeping-magic. 'Nothing is so useful as house-keeping-magic, Nima. You need not learn the mighty spells at first. You can do a lot with beginner spells if you know how to use them.'

And now Hrongar's house-keeping-magic had granted her hot water. Yay! Not the cold water of a river, spring or lake. Nevertheless, the water was clear and smelled of refreshing herbs. And there was no family to share it with. And all this in such an agreeable surrounding. Nima sniffed happily and turned to Dalamar.

"We are quite rich, aren't we?"

He smiled back tentatively.

"I think you could say so."

His face became serious again. "I leave you alone now, Shalafi, if you haven't any further orders."

"No, no, I haven't. You helped me a lot today."

"Will you find the way to your resting rooms, Shalafi?"

Nima nodded.

"Yeah, I think so." She had to suppress a yawn. "See you tomorrow, Dalamar."

Then, he was gone. And she was alone with the bathtub.