Part 4,
Chapter1
(Or; A spell makes dinner)

All was quiet. The house was still. Tas had gone off to make the most of the recent snowfall, Vicious Bastard was asleep in front of the fire, and it was Mrs. Wiggin's afternoon off. Heaving a quiet sigh of relief, Raistlin slipped silently into the sitting room and headed for the stereo. A minute later the room was filled with the powerful sweep of Matovani - the Mage's current favourite and a complete antithesis to Tasslehoff's preferred music (Metallica) which was currently stacked in mounds across the floor in towering complexities, mostly un-paid for. Rock and Roll was anathema to Raistlin.
With the thrill of real music flowing in his veins, Raistlin passed through the room like a faltering shadow and entered the kitchen. Here he paused to survey his surroundings. The truth was, he hardly ever had cause to trespass upon the domain of Mrs. Wiggins, except for the odd cup of hot chocolate or a midnight snack - usually a sandwich. Tas had returned from one of his sorties bearing a sandwich toaster once and Raistlin had been forced to wait until three in the morning to test it out in privacy. He had grasped the technicalities surprisingly well (for him), but he had unwisely selected strawberry jam as his first experiment. The toaster smouldered for a week at the bottom of the garden after Raistlin had wreaked vengeance on it. Then it had quietly shuffled off somewhere to expire. After that he had stuck to traditional cold snacks.
But today Raistlin was going to be much more ambitious. He placed the book he had been reading carefully on the kitchen table, washed his hands at the sink and rolled up his sleeves. Then he began selecting ingredients. "Salt, pepper...tomato sauce...pinch of madras curry...whew! An onion, one diced green pepper and one diced red pepper. And eggs, of course." he took a pace back to survey his handy work. "So far, so good." He looked up at the clock - half past five. All in good time. Then, recalling a programme he had been watching the other evening on just this subject, Raistlin turned his attention to the wine rack, which cradled a much-cherished selection of wine, sherry and port from around the world. It was his pride and joy. "And alcohol " Raistlin concluded, coming out of his near-trance.
He selected a mixing jug, added the recommended number of eggs, and off he went. "A pinch of white powder at the base," he recited, sprinkling a bit of salt in the jug, "another of black to equalise..." The pepper made him sneeze violently. "Blood from all parties? I'll have to improvise a bit." he thought. "Ah, yes." He liberated the tomato sauce from a cupboard and set it on the table. "Tas has disgusting eating habits," he mused. "Now...the curry powder. Not too much!" He reminded himself, "it's pretty potent!" He referred once more to the book. "Clear crystals to bend. What? I'll have to improvise a lot," Raistlin amended. Then a thought struck. "I know..." The mage rummaged about in one of the lower cupboards until a hand hit upon the food-mixer (another of Tasslehoff's little acquisitions). "THIS should do the trick." he regarded the Pyrex bowl thoughtfully. "Not exactly crystal, he admitted aloud, "but it IS clear and it WIILL bend, or rather.. blend."
After whizzing the mixture into a satisfying gloop and pouring it into the frying pan, he returned to the book on the table. "It says here...green to expand, red to destroy. This takes more than mere improvisation," he sighed wearily, "Now I'm reduced to cheating." Raistlin shrugged resignedly. "Oh well! I've done worse." He scooped up the diced peppers and dumped them unceremoniously into the mixture. "That should be about it! It says...heat to forge...well THAT'S straight forward enough, at any rate.
He hummed to himself happily in time to the music as he supervised the cooking process. It was the last line that stumped him. "A cylinder of gold to cool? Good grief! Who do they think I am - Mrs. Beaton? A cylinder of gold...cylinder of gold...?" He took a long sip of wine as he contemplated the problem. Just then, Tasslehoff arrived. "Wotcha Raist!" he greeted the mage brightly as he stomped snowy boots all across the kitchen lino. "What's for tea?" Raistlin opened the crockery cupboard and withdrew a pair of dinner plates. "Omelettes," he replied almost cheerfully. "Hang your coat up - and I do NOT mean 'toss it the couch and hope Raistlin doesn't notice - while I dish-up."
Tas assumed an air of utter innocence and went to hang up his coat, making a great performance of doing so for the mages benefit. It involved a lot of jumping up and down because hat-racks are TALL and Kenders are SHORT.
He returned just in time to witness Raistlin turn from the table, plates in hand, slip on the snowy slush Tas's boots had just deposited, and go crashing to the floor in a swirl of robes, omelettes and bone china like a surrealist version of the Wicked Witch of the West on a cheap catering holiday.

Five minutes later, a somewhat forlorn Raistlin deposited the last, mortal remains of his omelettes into the sunny yellow Addis flip-top bin. The final part of the Spell had been played out - a cylinder of gold to cool...Raistlin sent Tas out for fish and chips in the end.

Doo-wop di doo-di doo-whah!" Tas sang, swathing himself in a huge blue bath towel. "Woah, di dow-bi doo woah!" he added, twirling his hair into a pile on top of his head within a rather smaller towel and grinning at his image in the mirror (not, fortunately for it, a Sentient Being). He burst out of the bathroom in a Kenderoid explosion and cannoned straight into Raistlin, who had been surreptitiously proceeding towards the Library in the hope of a bit of peace and quiet. Alas, it was not to be. "Doo-Wop!" Tas said by way of an apology. "'Do what?"' Raistlin asked, unnerved by the sight of Tasslehoff of Arabia suddenly materialising in the corridor, giving obscure orders and causing him to spill his hot chocolate on the carpet. "Wop!" Tas grinned, bouncing off down the passage. He disappeared into his room with a swift "Shoobi" and a wailing "Doo-wah."
Raistlin blinked. He took a step forward. He took a step back again. He dithered a bit. He was unsure how to approach a possessed Kender. Frowning thoughtfully, he decided to consult one of his Tomes about the matter, though he rather suspected that nobody had ever been confronted with such an unusual subject for exorcism. He entered his Library, locking the door behind him.
Two minutes later he opened the door again, waved a hand at the stain, and retreated once more, safe in the knowledge that he would not incur the wrath of Mrs. Wiggins. He didn't surface again for several hours, and the aardvark sloped off in search of ants.
"Bell.." Raistlin looked at the bell uneasily, disturbed by the aura of smugness surrounding it - as if the bell knew something Raistlin didn't. The mage had always disliked bells; it was a hangover from his days working with plague victims. He associated ringing bells with Bad News. He regarded the bell rather as if it might bite, before continuing with his Inventory. "Book" after due consideration, he selected "The Edited Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley," one of his favourite Poets. He held the book in one hand. "Candle..." he had no trouble there - his study was positively awash with candles. Raistlin had erred on the side of safety and taken the largest one he could find. It was currently propped against the wall.
He referred once more to the Tome in his free hand. Finally satisfied that he had the words of the Spell fixed firmly in his brain, he closed the Tome and placed it on the hall table, then, clutching the candle to his chest, he grabbed up the bell with his free hand, stuffed the Staff of Magius under his arm and used "Shelley" to knock on Tas's bedroom door.
"Woah, like a breath of spring. I - I - I heard a Robin sing." Tas wailed. Gathering that to be tacit permission to enter, Raistlin turned the handle and made his way carefully into the room. Unfazed by the accumulated junk scattered on every conceivable surface, the mage zeroed in on the recumbent Kender. He fixed Tas with a Steely Gaze. Tasslehoff cringed guiltily, and tried to speak. "Rais.. "
"Be silent, Demon!" Raistlin commanded in his best Firm Voice as he placed the candle on the bedside table (ignoring the almost empty pizza box), and lit it. It glowed cheerily. Tas subsided onto the bed and resigned himself to being told off. Raistlin straightened himself to his full height, flung his arms toward the bed, and began to chant the words of magic. Tas sat up expectantly - this was going to be Interesting. "Barberus.. Emporiamus.."
(Tas' eyes assumed a glazed look )
"Altos...Tenorum...Baritonus...Basso..."
(he moaned softly)
"'Egress...Exodus...Exaunt...Excorcism..."
(And slumped back on the bed.)

Raistlin smiled in satisfaction - The Kender was in his power. Stage 1 complete, Raistlin proceeded to Stage 2. This involved ringing The Bell. His hand inched towards the table, where the bell rested innocuously. This was the bit the Mage hadn't been looking forward to. Gritting his teeth, Raistlin Rang The Bell. The room echoed to a tinny chorus of "Deck the Halls with Boughs of Holly." Raistlin winced. Despite the Bel1 having lived up to expectations, Raistlin carried on stoically, crushing an impulse to hum along to the "Fa la lah-s." He had things to do.
It was time for Stage 3. The Book. "The Nightingales complaint / It dies upon her heart..." he recited, now in direct competition with "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" The gentlemen appeared to be winning. Raistlin fought back heroically. "As I must die on thine / O, beloved as thou art!" he shouted, waving his Staff at Tasslehoff in what he hoped was a threatening manner. It was getting increasingly difficult to concentrate.
Suddenly four small Demons appeared on the foot of the bed. They ranged in size from roughly two foot tall, down to eight inches. They all wore striped suits and straw boaters, and they were singing "When the red, red robin comes bob, bob, bobbing along...along..." in perfect four-part harmony. They broke into "Give my regards to Broadway" before the Mage could draw breath.
Fixing the Demons with an Evil Look, Raistlin retaliated. The battle was on. The Demons launched a salvo - Forties Favourites, including "Don't sit under the Apple Tree" and "White Cliffs of Dover." Raistlin struck back with a searing burst of Byron.
"She walks in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies." The bell interrupted with an uninspiring burst of "Oh, Tannenbaum." Raistlin trod deliberately on the bell. It sparked a bit, played a bizarre rendition of "God Save the Queen" (with the same noble air as the Band on the Titanic must have possessed, as the Titanic sank beneath their feet) - then finally fell silent.
The Demons paused, impressed by Raistlin's ruthlessness. The Mage used the pause to play his Master Stroke. He hit them with a verse of E. E. Cummings. "I do not know what it is about you that closes / and opens; only something in me understands / the voice of your eyes is deeper that all roses / nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands."
The Demons were thrown into confusion. They fell out of key, They fell out of harmony, and they fell off the bed. In a final cloud of choking black sulphur, they vanished.
"No." Raistlin said aloud, "I never worked out what he was talking about either."
He closed the book with a sigh, blew out the candle and kicked the mortal remains of the front-door bell under the bed. He suddenly felt very tired.
Tasslehoff Burrfoot sat up in bed, yawned and rubbed his eyes in amazement. "Hi-ya, Raist! wotcha doin' on the floor?"
"Oh, lift me from the grass! I die, I faint, I fail!" Raistlin babbled in a strained tone of voice.
"Do you?" Tas asked, enthralled. "Then you'd better lay down for a bit. You can use my bed for a while if you're tired," he added generously, "you look rather peaky."
Raistlin moaned softly and clutched for his Staff. "Let thy love in kisses rain / on my lips and eyelids pale..." he beseeched, soulfully.
"I don't know about that," the Kender said uncertainly. But - look, have a piece of pizza, if you like. It might make you feel better. It's not that old." He added truthfully.
Raistlin snored softly from his place on the floor. Tas wisely decided to leave him to it and went off to have a bath.