A/N: Anastasya: Thanks for commenting each chapter. Though, I wouldn't mind criticism either, as long as it is constructive, I am really encouraged by every sign of appreciation I get. ;)

Valura: ROFL! Lestat, well yes... could work. But Ozzy??? That guy is rather the "prince of dorkness" if you ask me. ;D

Guan: Dalamar's problem is that the truth is just so unlikely that everything else seems more logical then that his Shalafi just turned into a copy of Tasselhoff.

Chickens: More introspection will come soon.

Dally: LOL Poor Dalamar, only getting attention from starry-crossed females while his master never even thinks about raising the monthly salary...

Katherat: I'm glad you like this story.

Part 20 - Breakfast, Bunnies and Bruises

Several days earlier somewhere on Krynn in a jugglers camp...

The morning was bright and early when Raistlin found himself eye in eye with a huge plate containing several different pancakes and at least three kinds of meat. His "family" was already digging into the breakfast as if they wouldn't be allowed to eat for the next week. He doubted this was the case. While he was still fighting with the first pancake the babykender had already devoured his portion. While the child gulped down milk it stared at Raistlin's food with hungry eyes. At that moment, Mother Teketoll lifted her head, watching the progress of her children in eradicating their pancakes. Her gaze stopped at her eldest daughter, who, according to Mother Teketolls observation, picked at her food, unmotivated. Motherly instinct lead to the dreaded utterance:

"Honey, you have to eat more!"

"No, I'm fine." answered Raistlin politely. It was obvious that the discussion would not end at this point.

"But- But you had only one pancake." Mother Teketoll responded promptly, a hint of worry in her high kender-soprano. "That's not enough, dear."

"I'm fine. Really." tried the mage. His stomach already protested against the sacrilegious idea of consuming large masses of the greasy food at this time of the day. He could tell, his efforts would not lead to success. Now Mr. Teketoll joined the conversation.

"Young Lady, are you on this nonsensical diet trip again? We told you a thousand times, if you get any more slim, we'll have to tie you to the wagon or the next breeze will carry you away. Women and their vanity!" He rolled his eyes.

"Darling" Mrs. Teketoll had taken the lead of the conversation again. Her tone held a touch of scolding. "Don't be so insensitive about your daughter's feelings."

She turned to Raistlin again, even more concerned, now.

"Are you doing a diet darling? Even if your father is sometimes just too blunt-" she granted her husband a short dispraising glance, "he is right about the issue. You really are slim and sweet and you are a nice-looking girl and I swear, every young kender on Krynn would be more than happy to have you as a girlfriend."

"The gods spare me that." Raistlin muttered dryly to himself, silently enough to escape the kender's notice. He had to admit, the situation bore a certain degree of comedy. If only the elderly kenderlady knew whom she was just giving a motivation boost.

"Nima, can I have your food?" blurted the kenderchild eventually. Runino's urgent demand saved Raistlin from having to defend himself further. Mr. Teketoll raised his finger at the kid.

"No no, Son. You already had enough. If you eat more, you will start looking like a balloon and we would have to roll you out of the wagon!"

Runino whined.

"But I am still hungry. And Nima doesn't want anymore. If you are disciplining her, then why do I have to suffer?"

This lead to another discussion which lasted the next half of an hour. And while the Kender parents' attention focused on their son, Raistlin retreated into the quietest corner he could find studying the infamous Grimoire.

Trouble arose when the kender had quit their meal and finished their educational efforts on their youngest son. Mr. Teketoll's attention went back to his elder offspring.

"Nima, we have to practice the stunts for tonight. And I made up a new one and I think it could be a great show if we do the flipflop-trick in combination with the double-jump. You know, I have a bet with Abrakus going on, I said we need less time to do it then him inventing a new spell for changing the color of the bunnies while he draws them out of the hat. I want us to try another rope today..."

Through the incessant chatter Raistlin extracted one important piece information. The kender were rope-walkers and of course he was part of the show, and of course they expected him to prove "his" artistic skills tonight. Why had he not considered this circumstance earlier? It had to be the special conditions of the whole affair. Inwardly the mage groaned. He should be in full control of the game; he had handled harder situations in a more professional manner. Neither his traitorous sister nor any other foe had ever managed to baffle him with complicated schemes and subtle manipulative attempts. But the smiling little nuisance in front of him did it without even planning to. Of course only because Raistlin had allowed the situation to take over once again. No, the archmage was not pleased with himself. Why did he suddenly miss the most basic things? However, Raistlin knew he couldn't allow himself the luxury of wallowing in self-accusation. Instead of fretting he had to come up with a quick solution.

Tonight! Even earlier if the kender insisted on a training-session. He needed a good explanation for not having to participate in any acrobatic acts. Though quick reflexes had occasionally saved his life during his time of adventuring, even in his own body he wouldn't have the sense for balance that was needed. Much less in a body crucially different to his own. Raistlin knew he was in trouble when the kender announced:

"We meet in half an hour at the main-tent."

The kender left the wagon one by one leaving only Raistlin.

Working magic was out of the question at this point. He could manipulate their minds and make them believe that he was the greatest rope-walker on Krynn if necessary, but it would be much harder to keep up the pretense as soon as more people got involved. And tonight half the village would be there awaiting the show.

His first thought had been on creating an illusion of him performing the deed. But this plan had two intrinsic weaknesses. First of all, the show included combined action and team-work. An illusion would not be able to catch a flying Runino. Secondly, even if he put enough effort into the illusion to make it so real it could even be touched and held, he didn't know the exact program of the artistic act which made improvising nearly impossible. And even spells that allowed him to boost his own agility to a point where he would make a squirrel jealous were useless since he had not enough theoretical knowledge. No, it was a useless waste of energy and simply out of question.

It was also out of question for another reason. The same reason that had kept him from inventing an idiotic coverstory like, for instance, a memory loss or something similar. Yes, the kender and their friends would surely believe him, still there was a reason he had not made use of this possibility beforehand.

Some would maybe call it paranoia, but Raistlin had the certain feeling that somebody in this camp played with a folded hand. Maybe the one who had interfered with the wishing spell was still here. Maybe someone was waiting for him to show that something was not as it should be. Someone knowing about the true nature of the milk-white stone would probably not be fooled by such an excuse. Somebody who knew to read the signs would maybe realize what had happened. And probably that person was just waiting for him, Raistlin, to show a weakness. The archmage was not inclined to lay his cards all in the open at this point. And he wouldn't grant any trumps to his hypothetical enemy. No, he needed to be Nima and with no word he would refer to the incident with the crystal in public. Not as long as he hadn't solved the problem already. All he needed was a reason for them not to involve 'their daughter' in their rope-walking acts for certain time. It needed to be something harmless. Something that could happen every day... like... an accident. The mage was sure he could improvise a little incident. Nothing really disturbing, maybe just a hurt ankle that didn't keep Nima from running around but strained 'her' balance enough, so she could not participate in any acrobatic acts. Of course he would mostly pretend the hurt since, apart form certain rumors about the followers of Nuitari, he didn't enjoy masochistic practice. Of course the accident had to happen in public to make it more realistic and less suspicious. And Mr. Teketoll's announced training session would give him the perfect opportunity.

Loosing no more time, Raistlin left the wagon and headed to the big tent in the middle of the camp. He hurried around the backside of the tent, searching for the entrance, when he suddenly spotted something little moving on the ground. Raistlin followed the tiny creature with his eyes and watched a disorientated white bunny lolloping over the meadow. He remembered the kender talking about Abrakus, the gnomish illusionist and his show including bunnies. The furry creature had apparently managed to escape his owner. Now it hopped towards him, not afraid of human beings in the least. Automatically he bent down and reached for it. It sniffed at his left shoe and then at his palms in search for some tasteful vegetables, which it had likely been given in the past by these hands. Carefully, Raistlin grabbed the bunny. He took it in his left arm and fondled it absently. It wrinkled it's tiny nose and ears nearly rhythmically while sniffing on his tunic. While Raistlin allowed himself to halt and stroke the furry being in his arms. A silent observer would have been granted the rare sight of a smile in the corner of Raistlin's mouth. The moment the mage heard the steps of jugglers coming out of the tent, he rose, still carrying the bunny in his arms. He would bring it back to its owner before somebody accidentally stepped on it, even if it meant having to face 'The great Abrakus - the mysterious gnomish sorcerer'.

Approaching the wagon of the gnomes, he was greeted by the sounds of high voices screeching at each other in the strange cadences of the gnomish language. It seemed as if Abrakus and his family had noticed their pet was missing. Raistlin had to climb three wooden stairs until he reached the door of the wagon.

"Don'ttellmemynewlyinventedsafetysecuritylockisbroken! Itsnotbrokenintheleast! ItoldyouyouhadtobemorecarfulbecausethisisthethirdtimethisweekandItoldKnoblartousethespecialsafetysecuritylockintherightway! Iexplaineditthreetimesbecauseifyouuseitrightitcan'tgowrong..." he heard from the inside.

Raistlin was just about to knock when all of a sudden the door flew open, nearly bumping against his head and revealing the view of a dumbfounded Abrakus. Obviously, the gnome hadn't expected somebody right in front of the door. Raistlin stumbled backwards narrowly avoiding the crash. However, his next step was too short to reach the stair. He struggled for balance hopelessly, realizing once more that he was caught in a body too alien to him. Cursing he tumbled backwards. At least he reacted quickly enough, not to let go of the animal in his arms. Shortly before he felt air being pressed out of his lungs he noticed a sharp wave of pain from his left foot. Somehow he had managed to get his foot stuck between the lower steps of the staircase. His back ached and for a second, the sight of the blue morning sky was substituted by darkness. The next things he noticed clearly were the gnomes fussing over him and the bunny rubbing its warm nose against his neck as if nothing had happened.

"OhmyReorxshehashurtherankle!Maybeshehashurtherheadaswell! PoorNimawhataterribleterribleaccident!"

Raistlin was given cold water, hot water, had strangely smelling salty substances rubbed under his nose and got his head and feet wrapped in wet towels all at the same time, while he was desperately trying to sit up. Somehow he had managed to run from the care of kender directly into the care of gnomes. Right from the breeze into the storm. Which damned god had a grudge on him? And why? Actually, he had to admit there were possible reasons, but why... now?

The exited gnomes didn't stay unnoticed. Other people ran towards them and the story of his unlucky accident got around. If it hadn't been for a swollen foot and a hurting spine, he could have congratulated himself to this perfect outcome of his plan. While he was carried into the kender's caravan somebody ran for Hrongar, who apparently was not only the alchemist but also the camp's healer. Highly curious, Raistlin waited for the mage to appear. Maybe he could recognize the face. However, the gods didn't grant him any pleasure today, since the news came that Hrongar had disappeared. None of the jugglers were surprised by that since the old man - at least they called him an old man- from time to time left the camp only to reappear some days later his bag full of herbs and ingredients for his potions. All of them put so much trust in their alchemist that nobody had ever asked if the man pursued some secret activities while he was "collecting ingredients".

Even without the alchemist's help the kender and Tiomar took care of his ankle. His back would only hurt for a few days; he had fallen luckily, not breaking anything. However, his leg was not in the best condition. The ankle was red and swollen, he had to cool it with cold towels and keep it still for the next couple of days. That was probably not the worst thing after all, it spared him to be part of the feast and while the others were busy selling their handicraft and services to gullible villagers, he had time to occupy himself with the crystal. Maybe the day was not that bad after all. While Tiomar took care of his foot, Raistlin noticed the half-orc's practiced movements. He seemed to have some experience with wounds. Very likely that came with the profession of a Ranger. A hunter often had to face accidents and light wounds. Timoar's fingers were quick and skillful and made a strange contrast to his slow, reduced speech.

"You have very strange luck, lately." was all the half-orc said about the issue.