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. The dead cat had provided more than a
meal. It had provided a good, black fur coat, two packs,
and a supply of smoked meat. "It was just a dream," he
said. "At least that's what almost everybody tells me.
Maybe they're right, too. But it's my dream, and I don't
think that's all it is."
"Well, what do you think it was?" The kender shaded
his bright eyes, gazing at the distant, craggy mountains
that rose above the mists several miles eastward, across
the valley.
"I think it was a message," Chane sighed. "It's like a
dream that I've had a hundred times over the years, only
this time it seemed to almost make sense, and there was
this face - I felt like I should know who he was, but I
can't quite grasp it. He told me that I had a destiny and
the fate of Thorbardin depends on me, and he showed
me a place where I must go."
'Why?"
"I don't know. He didn't say, but it must have some-
thing to do with the helmet, because that's what I always
dream about."
The kender glanced around at the dwarf, raising an
eyebrow quizzically. "What helmet?"
"The same one I always dream about. Ever since I was
half-grown."
"A helmet," Chess breathed. "Gee, I usually just dream
about butterflies and leeches and things. I don't think I
ever dreamed about a helmet," He raised his forked staff,
twirled it in his hngers for a moment, then tossed it into
the air and caught it, still twirling, as it fell
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