ment, calls, cries. There was only a dreadful silence.  for them. The living need you. Your brother is hurt, so is the

 "We've got to get out here;' he said slowly, without moving. kender. The draconians are invading. We must either escape

He looked at Elistan, who was staring back at the wreckage, his now, and keep fighting these horrible monsters, or waste our

fare deathly pale. "The others?" lives in useless grief. Tanis gave his life foe you, Laurara. Don't

 "They were all in there;' Elistan said in a trembling voice. let it be a needless sacrifice:'

"And the half-elf . . :' , Laurana stared up at him, her face black with soot and filth streaked with tears and blood. She heard the horns, she heard Gilthanas calling, she heard Flint shouting something about Tasslehoff dying, she heard Elistan's words. And then the rain began, dripping from the skies as the heat of the dragonfire melted the snow, changing it to water.

 

The rain ran down her face, cooling her feverish skin.

 

"Help me, Sturm;' she whispered through lips almost too numb to shape the words. He put his arm around her. She stood up, dizzy and sick with shock.

 

"Laurana!" her brother called. Elistan was right. The living needed her. She must go to him. Though she would rather lie down on this pile of rocks and die, she must go on. That was what Tanis would do. They needed her. She must go on.

 

"Farewell, Tanthalas;' she whispered.

 

The rain increased, pouring down gently, as if the gods themselves wept for Tarsis the Beautiful.

 

Water dripped on his head. It was irritating, cold. Raistlin tried to roll over, out of the way of the water. But he couldn't move. There was a heavy weight pressing down on tap of him. Panicking, he tried desperately to escape. As fear surged through his body, he came fully to consciousness. With knowledge, panic vanished. Raistlin was in control once more and, as he had been taught, he forced himself to relax and study the situation.

 

He could see nothing. It was intensely dark, so he was forced to rely on his other senses. First, he had to get this weight off. He was being smothered and crushed. Cautiously he moved his arms. There was no pain, nothing appeared broken. Reaching up, he touched a body. Caramon, by the armor-and the smell. He sighed. He might have known. Using all his strength, Raistlin shoved his brother aside and crawled out from under him.

 

The mage breathed more easily, wiping water from his face. He located his brother's neck in the darkness and felt for the lifebeat. It was strong, the man's flesh was warm, his breathing regular. Raistlin lay back down on the floor in relief. At least, wherever he was, he wasn't alone.

 

Where was he? Raistlin reconstructed those last few terrifying moments. He remembered the beam splitting and Tanis throwing Laurana out from under it. He remembered casting a spell" the last one he had strength enough to manage. The magic coursed through his body, creating around him and those near him a force capable of shielding them from physical objects. He remembered Caramon hurling himself on top of him, the building collapsing around them, and a falling sensation.

 

Falling . . .

 

Ah, Raistlin understood. We must have crashed through the floor into the Inn's cellar. Groping around the stone floor, the mage suddenly realized he was soaked through. Finally, however, he found what he lead been searching for-the Staff of Magius. Its crystal was unbroken; only dragonfire could damage the Staff given him by Par-Salian in the Towers of High Sorcery.

 

"Shirak;" whispered Raistlin, and the Staff flared into light. Sitting up, he glanced around. Yes, he was right. They were in the cellar of the Inn. Broken bottles of wine spilled their contents onto the floor. Casks of ale were split in two. It wasn't all water he had been lying in.

 

The wage flashed the light around the floor. There were Tanis, Riverwind, Goldmoon, and Tika, all huddled near Caramon. They seemed all right, he thought, giving them a quick inspection. Around them lay scattered debris. Half of the beam slanged down through the rubble to rest on the stone floor. Raistlin smiled. A nice bit of work, that spell. Once more they were in his debt.

 

If we don't perish from the cold, he reminded himself bitterly. His body was shaking so he could barely hold the staff. I-3e began to cough. This would 6e the death of him. They had to get out.

 

'Tanis," he called, reaching out to shake the half-elf.

 

Tanis lay crumpled at the very edge of Raistlin's magic, protective circle. He murmured and stirred. Raistlin shook him again. The half-elf cried out, reflexively covering his head with his arm.

 

"Tanis, you're safe," Raistlin whispered, coughing. "Wake up:'

 

"What?" Tanis sat bolt upright, staring around him. "Where-" Then he remembered. "Laurana?"

 

"Gone:' Raistlin shrugged. "You threw her out of danger-"

"Yes . . :' Tanis said, sinking back down. "And I heard you say words, magic-"

 

That's why we're not crushed:' Raistlin clutched his sopping wet robes around him, shivering, and drew nearer Tanis, who was staring around as if he'd fallen onto a moon.

 

"Where in the name of the Abyss-'

 

"We're in the cellar of the Inn;" the mage said. 'The floor gave way and dropped us down here;'

 

Tanis looked up. "By all the gods;' he whispered in awe.

 

"Yes;" Raistlin said, his gaze following Tanis's. "We're buried alive:'

 

Beneath the ruins of the Red Dragon Inn, the companions took stock of their situation. It did not look hopeful. Goldmoon treated their injuries, which were not serious, thanks to Raistlin's spell. But they had no idea how long they had been unconscious or what was happening above them. Worse still, they had no idea how they could escape.

 

Caramon tried cautiously to move some of the rocks above their heads, but the whole structure creaked and groaned. Rais^ tlin reminded him sharply that he had no energy to cast more spells, and Tanis wearily told the big man to forget it. They sat in the water that was growing deeper all the time.

 

As Riverwind stated, it seemed to be a matter of what killed them first: lack of air, freezing to death, the Inn falling down on top of them, or drowning.

 

"We could shout for help;" suggested Tika, trying to keep her voice steady.

 

"Add draconians to the list, then," Raistlin snapped. "They're the only creatures up there liable to hear you:"

 

Tika's face flushed, and she brushed her hard quickly across her eyes. Caramon cast a reproachful glance a# his brother, then put his arm around Tika and held her close. Raistlin gave them both a look of disgust.

 

"I haven't heard a sound up there;' Tanis said, puzzled. "You'd think the dragons and the armies-" I3e stopped, his glance meeting Caramon's, `path soldiers nodding slowly in sudden grim understanding.

 

"What?" asked Goldmoon, looking at them.

 

"W'e're behind enemy lines;" Caramon said. "The armies of draconians occupy the town. And probably the land for miles

and miles around. There's no way out, and nowhere to go if there were a way out:"

 

As if to emphasize his words, the companions heard sounds above them. Guttural draconian voices that they had come to know all too well drifted down through to them.

 

"I toll you, this is a waste of time;' whined another voice, goblin by the sound, speaking in Common. "There's no one alive in this mess'

 

"Tell that to the Dragon Highlord, you miserable dog-eaters;' snarled the draconian. "I'm sure his lordship'll be interested in your opinion. Or rather, his dragon'll be interested. You have your orders. Now dig, all of you:'

 

There were sounds of scraping, sounds of stones being dragged aside, Rivulets of dirt and dust started to sift down through the cracks. The big beam shivered slightly but held.

 

The companions stared at each other, almost holding their breaths, each remembering the strange draconians who had attacked the Inn. "Somebody's otter us," Raistlin had said.

 

"What are we looking for in this rubble?" croaked a goblin in the goblin tongue. "Silver? Jewels?"

 

Tanis and Caramon, who spoke a little goblin, strained to hear.

 

"naw" said the first goblin, who had grumbled about orders. "Spies or some such wanted personally by the Dragon Highlord for questioning:'

 

"In haze?` the goblin asked in amazement.

 

"That's what I said" snarled his companion. "You saw how far Z got. The lizardmen say they had them trapped in the Inn when the dragon hit it. Said nave of them escaped, and so the Highlord figures they must still be here. If you ask me-the dracos screwed. up and now we've got to pay for their mistakes:'

 

The sounds of digging and of rack moving grew louder, as did the sound of goblin voices, occasionally punctuated by a sharp order in t7-.e guttural voice of the draconians. There must be fit ty of them -ate the-e! Tanis thought, stunned.

 

Riverwind quietly lifted his sword out of the water and began wiping, it dry. Caramon, his usually cheerful face somber, released Tika and found his sward. Tanis didn't have a sward, Riverwind tossed him his dagger. Tika started to draw her sword, but Tanis shook his head. They would be fighting in close quarters, and Tika needed lots of room. The half-elf looked questioningly at Raistlin.

 

The mage shook his head. "I will try, Tanis;' he whispered.

 

"But I am very tired. Very tired. And I can't think, I can't concentrate:" He bowed his head, shivering violently in his wet robes. He was exerting all his effort not to cough and give them away, muffling his choking in his sleeve.

 

One spell will finish him, if he gets that off, Tanis realized. Still, he maybe luckier than the rest of us. At least he won't be taken alive.

 

The sounds above them grew louder and louder. Goblins are strong, tireless workers. They wanted to finish this job quickly, then get back to looting Tarsis. The companions waited in grim silence below. An almost steady stream of dirt and crushed rock dropped down upon them, along with fresh rainwater. They gripped their weapons. It was only a matter of minutes, maybe, before they were discovered.

 

Then, suddenly; there were new sounds. They heard the goblins yell in fear, the draconians shout to them, ordering them back to work. But they could hear the sounds of shovels and picks being dropped down onto the rocks above them, then the cursing of the draconians as they tried to stop what was apparently a full-scale goblin revolt.

 

And above the noise of the shrieking goblins rose a loud, clean, high-pitched call, which was answered by another call farther away. It was like the call of an eagle, soaring above the plains at sunset. But this call was right above them.

 

There was a scream-a draconian. Then a rending sound as if the body of the creature were being ripped apart. More screams, the clash o$ steel being drawn, another call and another answer-this one much, nearer.

 

"What is that?` Caramon asked, his eyes wide. "It isn't a dragon. It sounds like-like some gigantic 62r3 of pre y!"

 

"Whatever it is, it's tearing the draconians to shreds^." Goldmoon said in awe as they listened. Tine screaming sounds stopped abruptly, leaning a silence behind that was almost

 

worse. What never evil replaced the old? j

 

Then came the sound of racks and stones, mortar and timber being lifted and sent crashing to the streets, Whatever was up there was intent on reaching them!

 

"It"s eaten all the draconians," whispered Caramon gruffly, "and now it's after us!"

 

Tika turned deathly white, clutching at Caramon's arm. Goldmoon gasped softly and even Riverwind appeared to lose same of his stoic composure, staring intently upward.

 

"Caramon," Raistlin said, shivering, "shut up!"

 

Tanis felt inclined to agree with the mage. "We're all scaring ourselves over noth-" he began. Suddenly there was a rending crash. Stone and rubble, mortar and timber clattered down around them. They scrambled for cover as a huge, clawed foot plunged through the debris, its talons gleaming in the light of Raistlin's staff.

 

Helplessly seeking shelter beneath broken beams or under the casks of ale, the companions watched in wonder as the gigantic claw extricated itself from the rubble and withdrew, leaving behind it a wide, gaping hole.

 

All wan silent. For a few moments, none of the companions dared move. But the silence remained unbroken.

 

"This is our chance;" Tanis whispered loudly. "Caramon, see what's up there ."

 

But the big warrior was already creeping out of his hiding place, moving across the rubble-strewn floor as best he could. Riverwind followed behind, his sword drawn.

 

"Nothing;" said Caramon, puzzled, peering up.

 

Tanis, feeling naked without his sword, came over to stand beneath the hole, gazing upward. Then, to his amazement, a dark figure appeared above them, silhouetted against the burning sky. Behind the figure towered a large beast. They could just make out the head off a gigantic eagle, its eyes glittering in the firelight, its. wickedly curved beak gleaming in the flames.

 

The companions shrank back, but it was too late. Obviously the figure had seen them. It stepped nearer. Riverwind thought-too late-of his bow. Caramon pulled Tika close with one hand, holding his sward in his other.

 

The figure, however, simply knelt down near the edge of the hale, being careful of its footing .among the louse stones, and removed the hood covering its head.

 

"We meet again,. Tanis Half-Elven," said a voice as cool and pure and distant as tile stars.

 

Chapter 8

Escape ~ from Tarsis. the story of the dragon orbs.

 

Dragons flew on their leathery wings above the gutted city of Tarsis as the draconian armies swarmed in to take possession. The task of the dragons was completed. Soon the Dragon Highlord would call them back, holding them in readiness for the next strike. But far now they could relax, drifting on the super-heaved air currents rising from the burning town, picking off the occasional human foolish enough to came out of hiding. The red dragons floated in the sky°, keeping in their well-organized flights, guiding and dipping in a wheeling dance of death.

 

No power on Krynn existed now that could stop them. They knew this and exulted in their victory. But, occasionally something would occur to interrupt their dance. One flight leader, for example, received a report of fighting near the wreckage of an inn. A young male red dragon, he led his flight to the site, muttering to himself about the inefficiency of the troop commanders. What could you expect, though, when the Dragon Highlord was a bloated hobgoblin who hadn't even courage enough to watch the takeover of a soft town like Tarsis?

 

The male red sighed, recalling the days of glory when Verminaard had led them personally, sitting astride the back of Pyros. He had been a Dragon Highlord ! The red shook his head disconsolately. Ah, there was the battle. He could see it clearly now. Ordering his flight to stay airborne, he swooped in low far a better look.

 

"I command you! Stop!"

 

The red halted in his flight, staring upward in astonishment. The voice was strong and clear, and it came from the figure of a Dragon Highlord, But the Dragon Highlord was certainly not Toede! This Dragon Highlord, although heavily cloaked and dressed in the shining mask and dragon-scale armor of the Highlords, was human, to judge by the voice, not hobgoblin. But where had this Highlord come from? And why? For, to the red dragon's amazement, he saw that the Highlord rode upon a huge blue dragon and was attended by several flights of blues.

 

"What is your bidding, Highlord?'" the red asked sternly. "And by what right do you stop us, you who have no business in this part of Krynn?"

 

"The fate of mankind is my business, whether it be in this part of Krynn or another;" the Dragon Highlord returned. "And the might of my swordarm, gives me all the right I need to command you, gallant red. As for my bidding, I ask that you capture these pitiful humans, do not kill them. They are wanted for questioning. Bring them to me. You will be well rewarded:'

 

"Lock!, called a young female red. "Griffons!"

 

The Dragon Highlord gave an exclamation of astonishment arid displeasure. The dragons looked down to see three griffons sweeping up out of the smoke. Not quite half the size of a red dragon, griffons were noted for their ferocity. Draconian troops scattered like ashes in the wind before the creatures, whose sharp talons and ripping beaks were tearing the heads from those reptile-men unlucky enough to have been caught in their path.

 

The red snarled in hatred and prepared to dive, his flight with him, but the Dragon High lord swooped down in front of him, causing him to pull up.

 

"I tell you, they must not be killed!" the Dragon Highlord said sternly.

 

"But they're escaping!" the red hissed furiously.

 

"Let them;" the Highlord said coldly. "They will not go far. I relieve you of your duty in this. Return to the main body. And if that idiot Toede mentions this, tell him that the secret of how he lost the blue crystal staff did not die with Lord Verminaard. The memory of Fewmaster Toede lives on-in my mind-and will become known to others if he dares to challenge me!"

 

The Dragon Highlord saluted, then wheeled the large blue dragon in the air to fly swiftly after the griffons, whose tremendous speed had allowed them to escape with their riders well past the city gates. The red watched the blues disappear through the night skies in pursuit.

 

"Shouldn't we give chase as well?" asked the female red.

 

"No;' the red male replied thoughtfully, his fiery eyes on the figure of the Dragon Highlord dwindling in the distance. "I will not cross that one!"

 

"Your thanks are not necessary, or even wanted;' Alhana Starbreeze cut off Tanis's halting, exhausted words in midsentence. The companions rode through the slashing rain on the backs of three griffons, clutching their feathered necks with their hands, peering apprehensively down at the dying city falling rapidly away beneath them.

 

"And you may not wish to extend them after you hear me out;' Alhana stated coldly, glancing at Tanis, riding behind her. "I rescued you for my own purposes. I need warriors to help me find my father. We fly to Silvanesti:"

 

"But that's impossible!" Tanis gasped. "We must meet our friends! Fly to the hills. We can't go to Silvanesti, Alhana. There's too much at stake! If we can find these dragon orbs, we have a chance to destroy these foul creatures and end this war.

 

Then we can go to Silvanesti

 

"Now we are going to Silvanesti;" Alhana retorted. "You have no choice in the matter, Half-Elven. My griffons obey my command and mine alone. They would tear you apart, as they did those dragonmen, if I gave the order."

 

"Someday the elves will wake up and find they are members of a vast family," Tanis said, his voice shaking with anger. "No longer can they be treated as the spoiled elder child who is given everything while the rest of us wait for the crumbs:'

 

"What gifts we received from the gods we earned. You humans and half-humans'"-the scorn in her voice cut like a dagger-"had these same gifts and threw them away in your greed for more. We are capable of fighting for our own survival without your help. .4s to your survival, that matters little to us:'

 

"You seem willing enough to accept our help now!"

 

"Fur which you will be well-rewarded;' Alhana returned.

 

"There is, not steel nor jewels enough in Silvanesti to pay us

 

"You seek the dragon orbs;" Alhana interrupted. "I know where one is located. It is in Silvanesti:"

 

Tanis blinked. For a moment, he could think of nothing to say, but the mention of the dragon orb brought back thoughts of his Friend. "l^4-hexes Sturm?" he asked Alhana. 'The last I saw him, he was with you:"

 

"I don't know; " she replied. "We parted. He was going to the Inn, to find you. l called my ,griffons to me:'

 

"Why didn't you let him take you to Silvanesti if you needed war riors

 

"'E h .at is none of your concern." .Alhana turned her back to Tanis. who pat wordlessly, too tired to think clearly. Then he heard) a noire shouting at him, barely distinguishable through the feathery ru tle of the griffon's mighty wings.

 

It was Caramon. The warrior ryas shouting and pointing behind them. What now? Tanis thought wearily.

 

They had. left behind the smoke and the storm clouds that covered Tads, flying out into the clear right sky. The stars gleamed al---ove them, their sparkling lights shining as cold as diamonds, emphasizing the gaping black holes in the night sky where the two constellations had wheeled in their track above the world. The moons, silver and red, had set, but Tanis did not need their light to recognize the dark drapes blotting out the shining stars.

 

"Dragons;' he said to Alhana. "Following us:'

 

Tanis could never afterward clearly remember the nightmare flight from Tarsis. It was hours of chill, biting wind that made even death by a dragon's flaming breath seem appealing. It was hours of panic, staring behind to see the dark shapes gaining on them, staring until his eyes watered and the tears froze on his cheeks, yet unable to turn away. It was stopping at dusk, worn out from fear and fatigue, to sleep in a cave on a high rock cliff. It was waking at dawn only to see-as they soared through the air again-the dark, winged shapes still behind them.

 

Few living creatures can outcry the eagle-winged griffon. But the dragons-blue dragons, the first they had ever seen-were always on the horizon, always pursuing; allowing no rest during the day, farting the companions into hiding at night when the exhausted griffons must sleep. There was little food, only quith-pah-a dried fruit type of iron-ration that sustains the body, but does little to ease hunger-which Alhana carried and shared, But even Caramon was too weary and dispirited to eat much.

 

The only thing Tanis remembered vividly occurred on the second night of their journey. He was telling the small group huddled around a fire in a damp and cheerless cave about the kender's discovery in the library at Tarsis. At the mention of the dragon orbs, Raistlin's eyes glittered, his thin face lit from within by an eager, intense glow.

 

"Dragon orbs?" he repeated softly.

 

"l thought you might know of them;' Tanis said. "What are they"

 

Raistlin did not answer immediately. Wrapped a both his own and his brothels cloak, he lay as near the fire as possible, and all his trail body shook with the chill. The wage's golden eyes stared at Alhana, who sat somewhat apart from the group,, deigning to share the cane but not the conversation. Now, however, it seemed she half-turned her head, listening.

 

"You sand them is a dragon orb in Silvanesti;' the wage whispered,, glancing at Tanis. "Surely I am not the one to ask'

 

"I know little about it;' Alhana said, turning her pale face to the firelight. "We keep it as a relic of bygone days, more a curiosity than anything else. Who believed humans would once again wake this evil and bring the dragons back to Krynn?"

 

Before Raistlin could answer, Riverwind spoke angrily. "You have no proof it was humans!"

 

Alhana swept the Plainsman an imperious glance. She did not reply, considering it beneath her to argue with a barbarian.

 

Tanis sighed. The Plainsman had little use for elves. It had taken long days before he had come to trust Tanis, longer for Gilthanas and Laurana. Now, just as Riverwind seemed to be able to overcome his inherited prejudices, Alhana with her equal prejudices had inflicted new wounds.

 

"Very well, Raistlin:' Tanis said quietly, "tell us what you know of the dragon orbs:'

 

"Bring my drink, Caramon," the mage ordered. Bringing the cup of hot water as commanded, Caramon set it before his brother. Raistlin propped himself up an one elbow and mixed herbs into the water. Tile strange, acrid odor filled the air. Raistlin, grimacing, sipped the bitter mixture as he talked.

 

"During the Age of Dreams, when those of my order were respected and revered upon Krynn, there were five Towers of High Sorcery." The wage's voice sank, as if recalling painful memories. His brother sat staring at the rock floor of the cave, his face grave. Tanis, seeing the shadow fall across both twins, wondered again whale had happened within the Tower of High Sorcery to change their lives so drastically. It was useless to ask, he knew. Both had been forbidden to discuss it.

 

Raistlin paused a moment before .he continued, then drew a deep breath. "When tile Second Dragon Wars came, the highest of my order met together in the greatest of the Towers-the Tower of Falanthas-and created the dragon orbs:"

 

Raistlin's eyes. grew unfocused, leis whispering voice ceased a moment. When he spoke next, it was as if recounting a moment he was reliving in his mind. Even his voice changed, becoming stranger, deeper, clearer. He no longer coughed. Caramon looked at him in astonishment.

 

"Those of the White Robes entered the chamber at the top of the Tower first., as the silver moon, solinari, rose. Then Lunitari appeared in the sky, dripping with blood, and those of the Red Robes entered. Finally the black disk, Nutari, a hole of darkness among the stars, could be seen by those who sought it, and the Black Robes walked into the chamber.

 

"It was a strange moment in history, when all enmity between the Robes was suppressed. It would come but one more time in the world, when the wizards joined together in the Lost Battles, but that time could not be foreseen. It was enough to know that, for now, the great evil must be destroyed. Far at last we had seen that evil was intent on destroying ail the magic of the world, so that only its own would survive! Some there were among the Black Robes, who might have tried to ally with this great power"-Tanis saw Raistlin's eyes burn-"but soon realized they would not be maskers of it, only its slaves. And so the dragon orbs were born, on a night when all three moons were full in the sky:"

 

"Three moons?" Tanis asked softly, but Raistlin did not hear him and continued to speak in the voice not his own.

 

"Great and powerful magic was worked that night-so powerful that few could withstand it and they collapsed, their physical and mental strength drained. But that morning, five dragon orbs stood upon pedestals, glistening with light, dark with shadows. All but one were taken from Palanthas and carried, in great peril, to each of the other four Towers. Here they helped rid the world of the Queen of Darkness:"

 

The feverish gleam faded from Raistlin's eyes. His shoulders slumped, his voice sank, and he began to cough, violently. The others stared at him in breathless silence.

 

Finally Tanis cleared his throat. "What do you mean, three moans?"

 

Raistlin looked up dully. "Three moons.?" he whispered. "I know nothing of three moons., What were we discussing?"

 

"Drag an. orbs. You told us how they were created. Now did you-" Tanis stopped, seeing Raistlin sink onto his pallet.

 

"I have told you nothing:' Raistlin said irritably. "What are you talking about?'"

 

'

 

Tanis glanced at the others. Riverwind shook his head. Cararnorl bit his lip and looked away, his face drawn with worry.

 

 "We were speaking of the dragon orbs;" Goldmoon said. "You were going to tell us what you knew of them.."

 

Raistlin wiped blood from has mouth. "I do not know much;' he said wearily, shrugging. "The dragon orbs were created by the high mages. Only the most powerful of my order could use them. It was said that great evil would came to those not strong in magic who tried to command the orbs. Beyond that, I know nothing. All knowledge of the dragon orbs perished during the Lost Battles. Two, it was said, were destroyed in the Fall of the Towers of High Sorcery, destroyed rather than let the rabble have them. Knowledge of the other three died with their wizards:' His voice died. Sinking back onto his pallet, exhausted, he fell asleep.

 

"The Lost Battles, three moons. Raistlin talking with a strange voice. None of this makes sense;' Tanis muttered.

 

"I don't believe any of it!" Riverwind said coldly. He shook out their furs, preparing to sleep.

 

Tanis was starting to follow his example when he saw Alhana creep from the shadows of the cave and came to stand next to Raistlin. Staring dawn at the sleeping mage, her hands twisted together.

 

"Strong in magic!" she whispered in a voice filled with fear. "My father!"

 

Tanis looked at her in sudden understanding,

 

"you don't think your father trued to use the orb?"

 

"I am afraid;" Alhana whispered, wringing her hands. "He said he alone could fight the evil and keep it from our land. He must have meant-" Swiftly she bent down near Raistlin. "Wake him!" she commanded, her black eyes flaring. "I must know! Wake him and make him fell me what the danger is!"

 

Caramon pulled her back, gently but firmly. Alhana glared at him, her beautiful face twisted in fear and rage, and it seemed for a moment as if she might strike him, but Tanis reached her side and caught hold off her hand.

 

"Lady Alhana;' he said calmly. "it would do no good to wake him. He has told us everything he knows. As. for that other voice, he obviously remembers nothing about what it said:'

 

"I've seen it happen to Raist before;' Caramon said in low tones, 'as if he becomes someone else. But it always leaves him exhausted and he never remembers."

 

Alhana jerked her hand away from Tanis's, her face resuming its cold, pure, marble stillness. She whirled and walked to the front of the cave. Catching hold of the blanket Riverwind had hung to hide the fire's light, she nearly tore it down as she flung it aside and skulked outdoors.

 

"I'll stand first watch;" Tanis told Caramon. "You get some sleep:"

 

"I'll stay up with Raist awhile;" the big man said, spreading out his pallet next to his frail twins. Tanis followed Alhana outside.

 

The griffons slept soundly, their heads buried on the soft feathers of their necks, taloned front feet clutching the cliff edge securely. For a moment he could not find Alhana in the darkness, then he saw her, leaning against a huge boulder, weeping bitterly, her head buried in her arms.

 

The proud Silvanesti woman would never forgive him if he saw her weak and vulnerable. Tanis ducked back behind the blanket.

 

"I'll strand watch! " he called out loudly before he walked outside again. Lifting the blanket, he saw, without seeming to, Alhana stark up and wipe her hands hurriedly across her face. She turned her back to him, and he walked slowly toward her: giving her time to pull herself together.

 

"The cave was stifling;' she said in a low voice. "I could not bear it.. I had to come out for a breath of air."

 

"I have t-:rsl watch;' Tanis said. He paused, then added, "You seem afraid your father might have tried to use [his dragon orb. Surely he would know its history. If I Remember what I knave of your people, he was a magic-user::

 

"He knew &,.,here the orb came from; Alhana said; her voice quivering before she could regain control. 'The young, mage was right when he spoke of the Last Battles and the .destruction of the Tower=_. But .he was wrang when he said the other three orbs were to :. -One was brought is Silvanesti by my father for safe-k.eFing:'

 

"What were :he Lost Battles?:' Tanis .asked. `:caning on the rocks next to Alhana,,

 

"Is no _-Xe at all kept in Qualincsti?' she reformed,, regarding Tanis with scorn. -What barbarian you have become since mingling with humans!"

 

"Say the fault is my own," Tanis. said, 'that I did not pay enough heed to the Loremaster"

 

Alhana glanced at him, suspecting him. of being sarcastic.

 

Seeing his serious face and not particularly wanting him to leave her alone, she decided to answer his question. "As Istar rose during the Age of Might to greater and greater glories, the Kingpriest of Istar and his clerics became increasingly jealous of the magic-users" power. The clerics no longer saw the need for magic in the would, fearing it-of course-as something they could not control. Magic-users themselves, although respected, were never widely trusted, even those wearing the white robes. It was a simple matter for the priests to stir the people against tire wizards. As times grew snore and more evil, the priests placed the blame upon the magic-users. The Towers of High Sorcery, where the magicians must pass their final, grueling tests, were where the powers of the mages rested. The Towers became natural targets. Mobs attacked them, and it was as your young friend said: for only the second time in their history, the Robes came together to defend their last bastions of strength:'

 

"But how could they be defeated?" Tanis said incredulously.

 

"Can you ask that, knowing what you do of your mage friend? Powerful he is, but he must have rest. Even the strongest musk have fume to renew their spells, recommit them to memory. Even the eldest of the order-wizards whose might has root been seen on Krynn since-had to sleep and spend hours reading their spellbooks- And then, too, as now, the number of magic-users was small. There are few who dare take the tests in the Towers of High Sorcery, knowing that to fail is to die."

 

"Failure means death?" Tanis said softly.

 

! "Yes;' Alhana replied. "Your friend is very brave, to have taken the Test so young. Very brave-OT very ambitious. Didn't he ever tell you?"

 

"No;' Tanis murmured. "He never speaks of it. But go on:"

 

' Alhana shrugged. "When it became clear that the battle was

 

hopeless, the wizards themselves destroyed two of the Towers.

 

 The blasts devastated the countryside for miles around. Only

 

three remained-the Tower of Istar, the Tower of Palanthas, and the Tower of Wayreth But the terrible destruction of the other two Towers scared the Kingpriest. I-le granted the wizards in the Towers of Istar ante' Palanthas safe passage from these cities if they left the Towers. undamaged, for the wizards could have destroyed the two cities, as the Kingpriest well knew.

 

"And so the merges traveled to the one Tower which was never threatened-the Tower of Wayreth in the Kharolis Mountains. To Wayreth they came to nurse their wounds and to nurture the small spark of magic still left in the world. Those spellbooks they could not take with them-for the number of books was vast and many were bound with spells of protection-were given to the great library at Palanthas, and there they still remain, .according to the fare o£ my people:"

 

The silver moon had risen, its moonbeams graced their daughter with a beauty that took Tanis's breath away, even as its coldness pierced his heart.

 

"What do you know of a third moon?" he asked; staring into the night sky, shivering. "A black moan . . ."

 

"Little;' Alhana replied. "The magic-user draws power from the moons: the White Robes from Solinari, the Red Robes from Lunitari. There is, according to lore, a moon that gives the Black Robes their power, but only they know its name or how to find it in tile sky:"

 

Raistlin knew its namo, Tanis thought, or at least that other voice knew it. But he did not speak this aloud.

 

"How did your father get the dragon orb?"

 

"My Father, Lorac, was an apprentice;' Alhana replied softly, turning her face to the silver moon. "He traveled to the Tower of High Sorcery at Istar for the Tests, which he took and survived. It was there he first saw the dragon orb." She fell silent for a moment. "I am going to tell you what I have never told anyone, ands' what he has never told-except to me. I tell you only because you have a right to know what-what to expect.

 

 "During the Tests, the dragon orb . . ."- Alhana hesitated,

seeming to search for the right words-"smoke to him, to his

mind. It feared some terrible calamity was approaching. 'You

must not leave me here in lstar; it told him. 'If so, I will perish

and the -world will be lost. 'My father-I suppose you could say

hg stole the dragon orb, although he saw himself as rescuing it.

 

"The 'Tower of ]star was abandoned. The Kingpriest moved in and used it far his own purposes.. Finally the merges left the Tower of Palanthas:' Alhana shivered. "Its story is a terrible one The Regent of Palanthas,. a disciple of the Kingpriest, arrived ad the Tower to seal the gates shut-5o he said. But all could see his eyes lingering on the beautiful Tower greedily, for legends of the wonders within-both fair and evil-had spread throughout the land.

 

"The Wizard of the White closed the Tower's slender gates of gold and locked them with a silver key. The Regent stretched out his hand, eager for the key, when one of the Black Robes appeared in a window in one of the upper stories.

 

" "The gates will remain closed and the halls empty until the day when the master of both the past and the present returns with power; he cried. Then the evil merge leaped out, hurling himself down at the gates. As the barbs pierced the black robes, he cast a curse upon the Tower. His blood poured down on the ground, the silver and golden gates withered and twisted and turned to black. The shimmering tower of white and red faded to ice-gray stone, its black minarets crumbling to dust.

 

"The Regent and the people fled in terror. To this day, no one has dared enter the Tower of Palanthas-or even approached its gates. It was after the cursing of the Tower that my father brought the dragon orb to Silvanesti:'

 

"But surely your father knew something about the orb before he took it;' Tanis persisted. "Haw to use it-'

 

"If so, he did not speak of it;" Alhana said wearily, "for that is all I knave. I must rest now. Good-night;' she said to Tanis without looking at him.

 

"Good-night, Lady Alhana," Tanis said gently. "Rest easily this night. And don't worry". Your father is wise anti has lived through much. I'm certain everything is all right:'

 

Alhana started to sweep past without a word, then, hearing tine sympathy in his voice, she hesitated.

 

"Though he passed the Test;" she said so softly Tanis had to step closer to heat, "he was net as powerful in his magic as your young friend is now. Arid if he thought the dragon orb was our only hope, I tear-" Her voice broke.

 

"The dwarves have a saying:' Sensing for a moment that the barriers between them had been lowered, Tani:; put his arm around Alhana's slender shoulders and drew her ..-lose. " 'Rouble borrowed will be paid hack with interest compounded an sorrow: Don't worry. We're with you:'

 

Alhana did not answer. She let herself be comforted far just an nstant, then, slipping .free of his grasp, walked to the entrance to the cave. There she stopped and looked back.

 

"You are worried about your friends;" she said. "Do not be. They escaped the city and are safe. Though the kender was close to death for a time, he survived, and now they travel to Ice Wall in search of a dragon orb:'

 

"How do you know this?" Tanis gasped.

 

"I have told you all I can:' Alhana shook her head.

 

"Alhana! How do you know'?" Tanis asked sternly.

 

Her pale cheeks stained with pink, Alhana murmured, "I-I gave the knight a Starjewel. He does not know its power, of course, nor how to use it. I don't know why I gave it to him, even, except-"

 

"Except what" Tanis asked, amazed beyond belief.

 

"He was so gallant, so brave. He risked his life to help me, and he didn't even know who I was. He helped me because I was in trouble. And-" Her eyes glimmered. "And he wept, when the dragons killed the people. I've never seen an adult weep before. Even when the dragons came and drove us from our home, we did not weep. I think, perhaps, we've forgotten how:'

 

Them, as if realizing she had said too much, she hastily gulled aside the blanket and entered the cave.

 

"In the name of the gads!" Tanis breathed. A Starjewel What a rare and priceless gift: A gift exchanged by elven lovers forced to part, the jewel creates a bond between souls. Thus, linked, they share the innermost emotions of the laved one and can grant strength to each other in times of need. But never before in Tanis's long life, had the half-elf heard of a Starjewel being gives to a human. What would it do to a human? What kind of effect would it have? And Alhana-she could never love a human, never return lave. This must be some sort of blind infatuation. She had been frightened,, alone. No, this could only end in sorrow, unless something changed drastically among the elves or within Alhana herself.

 

Even as Tanis's heart expanded with relief to know Laurana and the others were safe, it contracted with fear and grief for Sturm,

 

Chapter 9

Silvanesti. Entering the dream.

 

The third day, they continued their journey, flying into the sunrise. They had lost the dragons; apparently; although Tika, keeping watch behind, thought she could see black dots upon the horizon. And that afternoon, as the sun was sinking behind them, they neared the river known as Thos-Thalas-Lord's River-which divided the outside world from Silvanesti.

 

All of his life, Tanis had heard of the wander and beauty of the ancient Even Home, though the elves of Qualinesti spoke of it without regret. Then did not miss the last wonders of Silvanesti, for the wonders themselves became a symbol of the differences that had developed between the elven kin.

 

The elves in Qualinesti lived in harmony with nature, developing and enhancing its beauty. They built their homes among the aspens, magically gilding the trunks with silver and gold. They built their dwellings of shimmering rose quartz, and invited nature to come dwell with them.

 

The Silvanesti, however, loved uniqueness and diversity in all objects. Not seeing this uniqueness existing naturally, they reshaped nature to conform to their ideal. They had patience and they had time, for what were centuries to elves whose life spans measured in the hundreds of years? And so they reformed entire forests, pruning and digging, forcing the trees and flowers into fantastic gardens of incredible beauty.

 

They did not 'build' dwellings, but carved and molded the marble rock that existed naturally in their land iota such strange and wondrous shapes that-in the years before the races were estranged-dwarven craftsmen traveled thousands of miles to view them, and then could do nothing but weep at the rare beauty. And, it was said, a human who wandered into the gardens of Silvanesti could not leave, but stayed foaever enraptured, caught in a beautiful dream.

 

All this was known to Tanis only through legend, of course, for none of the Qualinesti had set foot in their ancient home since the Kinslayer wars. No human-it ryas believed-had been allowed in Silvanesti since a hundred years before that.

 

'What about the stories;' Tanis asked Alhana as they flew above the aspens on the backs of the griffons, '"the stories of humans trapped by the beauty of Silvanesti, unable to leave  Do my friends dare go to this land?" Alhana glanced back at him.

 

"I knew humans were weak;' she said coldly "brat I did not think they were that weak. It is true humans do oat come to Silvanesti, but that is because we keep them out. We certainly wouldn't want to keep any in. If I thought there was danger of that, I would not allow you into my homeland:'

 

"Not even Sturm?" he couldn't help asking wry,"I3.^, nettled by her stinging tone.

 

But he was not prepared for the answer. Albans lwist-ed ":o face him, whipping around so fast her long black hair flailed his skin. Her face was so pale with anger, it seemed translucent and he could see the veins pulse beneath her skin. Her dark eyes seemed to swallow him in their black depths.

 

"Never speak of that to me!" she said through clenched teeth and white lips. "Never speak of him!"

 

"But last night-" Tanis faltered, astonished, putting his hand to his burning cheek.

 

"Last night never happened;" Alhana said. "I was weak, tired, frightened. As I was when . . . when I met Stur-the knight. I regret speaking of him to you. I regret telling you of the Starjewel:'

 

"Do you regret giving it to him?" Tanis asked.

 

"I regret the day I set foot in Tarsis;' Alhana said in a low, passionate voice. "I wish I had never gone there! Never!" She turned away abruptly, leaving Tanis to dark thoughts.

 

The companions had just reached the river, within sight of the tall Tower of the Stars, shining like a strand of pearls twisting into the sun, when the griffons suddenly halted their flight. Tanis, glancing ahead, could see no sign of danger. But their griffons continued to descend rapidly.

 

Indeed. it seemed hard to believe that Silvanesti had been under attack. There were no thin columns of campfire smoke rising into the air, as there would be if the draconians occupied the county',,^. The land was not blackened and ruined. He could see, below him., the green of the aspens gleaming in the sunlight. Here and them, the marble buildings dotted the forest with their white splendor.

 

"No!' Alhana spoke to the griffons in elven. "I command you.' Keep going! I must reach the Tower!"

 

But the griffons circled lower and lower, ignoring her.

 

"What is it?'" Tanis asked. "Why are we stopping? We're in sight of the Tower. W'hat's the matter?" He looked all around. "I see nothing to be concerned over."

 

"'They refuse to go an;' Alhana said, her face drawn with ,,,Worry. "They won"t tell me ruby, only that we must travel on our own from here. I don't understand this:"

 

Tanis didn't like it. Griffins were known as fierce, independent creatures. bat once their loyalty was gained, they served their maulers with undying devotion. The elven royalty of Silvanesti has always tamed griffons for their use. Though smaller than dragons, the griffons' lightning speed, sharp talons, tearing beak, and lion-clawed hind feet made them enemies to be respected. There was little they feared on Krynn, so Tanis had heard. These griffons, he remembered, had flown into Tarsis through swarms of dragons without apparent fear.

 

Yet now the griffons were obviously afraid. They landed on the banks of the river, refusing all of Alhana's angry, imperious commands to fly farther. Instead, they moodily preened themselves and steadfastedly refused to obey.

 

Finally there was nothing for the companions to do but climb off the griffons' backs and unload their supplies. Then the birdlion creatures, with fierce, apologetic dignity, spread their wings and soared away.

 

"Well, that is that;" said Alhana sharply, ignoring the angry glances she felt cast at leer. "We shall simply have to walk, that's all. The way is not far:"

 

The companions stood stranded upon the riverbank, staring across the sparkling water into the forest beyond. None of them spoke. All of them were terse, alert, searching for trouble. But all they saw were the aspen trees glistening in the last, lingering rays of sunset. The river murmured as it lapped on the shore. Though the aspens were green still, the silence of winter blanketed the land.

 

"I thought you said your people fled because they were under siege?" Tanis said to Alhana finally.

 

"If this land is under control of dragons, I'm a gully dwarf!" Caramon snorkel.

 

"We were!" Alhana answered, leer eyes scanning the sunlit forest. "Dragons Filled the skies-as in Tarsis! The dragonmen entered our beloved woods, burning, destroying-" Her voice died.

 

Caramon leaned near Riverwind and Muttered, "Wild goose chase!"

 

The Plainsman scowled. "If it's nothing more than that, we'll be fortunate," he sail, his eyes on the elfanaid. "Why did sire bring as here? Perhaps it's a trap."

 

Caramon considered this a moment, then glanced uneasily at his brother, who had not spoken or moved or taken his strange eyes from the forest since the griffons left . The big warrior loosened his sword in its scabbard and moved a step nearer Tika. Almost accidentally, it seemed, their two hands clasped. Tika cast a fearful look at Raistlin but held onto Caramon tightly.

 

The merge just stared fixedly into the wilderness.

 

"Tanis!" Alhana said suddenly, forgetting herself in her joy and putting her hand on his arm. "Maybe it worked! Maybe my father defeated them, and we can come home! Oh, Tanis-" She trembled with excitement. "We've got to cross the river and find out! Come! The ferry landing's down around the bend-"

 

"Alhana, wait!" Tanis called, but she was already running along the smooth, grassy bank, her long full skirts fluttering around her ankles. "Alhana! Damn it. Caramon and Riverwind, go after her. Goldmoon, try to talk some sense into her:'

 

Riverwind and Caramon exchanged uneasy glances, but they did as Tanis ordered, running along the riverbank after Alhana. Goldmoon and Tika followed more slowly.

 

"Who knaves what"s in these woods?" Tanis muttered. "Raistlin-"

 

The merge did not seem to hear. Tanis moved closer. "Raistlin?" he repeated, seeing the mage's abstracted stare.

 

Raistlin stared at him blankly, as if waking from a dream. Then the merge became aware of someone speaking to him. He lowered his eyes.

 

"What is it, Raistlin?" Tanis asked. "What do you sense?"

 

"Nothing, Tanis;' the merge repined.

 

Tanis blinked. "Nothing?" he repeated.

 

"It is like an impenetrable fog, a blank wall;" Raistlin whispered. "I see nothing, sense nothing:'

 

Tanis staged at him intently, amid suddenly he knew Raistlin was lying. But why? The merge returned the half-elf's gaze with equanimity, even a small, twisted smile on his thin lips, as if he knew Tanis didn't believe him brat really didn't care.

 

"Raistlin;' Tanis sail softly, "suppose Lorac, the elfking, tried to use the dragon orb-what would happen?"

 

The merge lifted his eyes to stare auto tile forest. "Do you think that is possible?" he asked.

 

"Yes;" Tanis said, "From what little Alhana told me, during the Tests in the Tower of High Sorcery al Istar, a dragon orb spoke to Lorac, asking, him to rescue it from the impending disaster."

"And he obeyed it?" Raistlin asked, his voice as soft as the murmuring water of the ancient river.

 

"Yes. He brought it to Silvanesti:"

 

"So this is the dragon orb of Istar;" Raistlin whispered. His eyes narrowed, and then he sighed, a sigh of longing. "I knew nothing about the dragon orbs;' he remarked, coolly, "except what I told you. But I know this, Half-Elf-nave of us will come out of Silvanesti unscathed, if we come out at all:'

 

"What do you mean? What danger is there?"

 

"What does it matter what danger I see?" Raistlin asked, folding his hands in the sleeves of his red robes. "We must enter Silvanesti. You know it as well as I. Or will you forego the chance to find a dragon orb?"

 

"But if you see danger, tell us! We could at least enter prepared-" Tanis began angrily.

 

"Them prepare;" Raistlin whispered softly, and he turned away and began to walk slowly along the sandy beach after his brother.

 

The companions crossed the river just as the last rays of the sun flickered among the leaves of the aspens on the opposite bank. And then the fabled forest of Silvanesti was gradually swamped lay darkness. 'The shadows of night flowed among the feet of the trees like the dark water flowing beneath the keel of the ferry book.

 

Their journey was slow. The ferry-an ornately-carved, flat-bottomed beak connected to both shares by an elaborate system of copes and .pulleys-seemed at first to be in good condition. Bait once they set foot on board and began to crass the ancient river, they discovered that the rapes were rotting. The boat begarn to decay before their eyes. The river itself seemed to change. Reddish-fo:rawn water seeped through the hull, tainted with the faint swell of blood.

 

They had just stepped out of the boat on the opposite bank and were unloading their supplies, when the frayed rapes sagged and gave gray. The river swept the ferry boat downstream in. an instant. Twilight vanished at the same moment, and night. swallowed them. Although the sky was clear, without a cloud to mar its dark surface, there were no stars visible. Neither the red nor the silver moon rose. The only light came

 

THE DRAGONS OF WINTER NIGHT

 

from the river, which seemed to gleam with an unwholesome brilliance, like a ghoul.

 

"Raistlin, your staff;" Tanis said. His voice echoed too loudly through the silent (ores'.. Even Caramon cringed.

 

"Shirak:" Raistlin spoke the word of command and the crystal globe clutched in the disembodied dragon's claw flared into light. But it was a cold, pale light. The only thing it seemed to illuminate were the mage's strange, hourglass eyes.

 

"We must enter the woods;' Raistlin said in a shaking voice. Turning, he stumbled toward the dark wilderness.

 

No one else spoke or moved. They stood an the bank, fear overtaking them. There was no reason for it, and it was all the more frightening because it was illogical. Fear crept up on them from the ground. Fear flowed through their limbs, turning the bowels to water, sapping the strength of heart and muscle, eating into the brain.

 

Fear o6 what? There was nothing, nothing there! Nothing to be afraid of, yet all of them were more terrified of this nothing than they had been of anything before in their lives.

 

"Raistlin's right. We've-got to-get into the woods-find shelter . . :' Tanis spoke with an effort, his teeth chattering. "Follow Raistlin :'

 

Shaking, he staggered forward, not knowing if anyone followed, not caring. Behind him, he could hear Tika whimper and Goodmoon trying to pro}^ through lips that would not form words. He heard Caramon shout for his brother to stop and Riverwind cry out in terror, but it didn't matter. He had to run, get away from here'. His only guidance was the light of Raistlin's staff.

 

Desperately, he stumbled after the mage into the woods. But when Tanis reached the trees, he found his strength was gone. He was too scared to move. Trembling, he sank down on his knees, then pitched forward, his hands clutching at the ground.

 

"Raistlin!" His throat was torn by a ragged scream.

 

But the mage could not help.. The last thing Tanis saw was the light from Raistlin's staff falling slowly to the ground, slowly, and mare slowly, released by the young ravage's limp, seemingly lifeless hand.

 

The trees. The beautiful trees of Silvanesti. Trees fashioned and coaxed through centuries into groves of wonder and enchantment. All around Tanis were the trees. But these trees now turned upon their masters, becoming living groves of horror. A noxious green light filtered through the shivering leaves.

 

Tanis stared about in horror. Many strange and terrible sights he had seen in his life, but nothing like this. This, he thought, might drive him insane. He turned this way and that, frantically, but there was no escape. All around were the trees-the trees of Silvanesti. Hideously changed.

 

The said of every tree around him appeared trapped in torment, imprisoned within the thank. The twisted branches of the tree were the limbs of its spirit, contorted in agony. The grasping roots clawed the ground in hopeless attempts to flee. The sap of the living trees flowed from huge gashes in the trunk. The rustling -of its leaves were cries of pain and terror. The trees of Silvanesti wept blood.

 

Tanis had no idea where he was or haw long he had been here. He remembered he had begun walking toward the Tower of the Stars that he could see rising above the branches of the aspens. He had walked and walked, and nothing had stopped him. Then he'd heard the kender shriek in terror, like the scream of some small animal being tortured. Turning" he sate Tasslehoff pointing at the trees, Tanis, staring horrified at the trees, only eventually comprehended that Tasslehoff wasn't supposed to be here. And there was Sturm, ashen with fear, and Laurana, weeping in despair, and Flint, his eyes wide and staring.

 

Tanis embraced Laurana, and his arms encompassed flesh and blood, but still he knew she was not there-even as he held her, and the knowledge was terrifying.

 

Then, as he stood there in the grove that was like a prison of the damned" the horror increased. Animals mounded out from among the tormented trees and fell upon the companions.

 

Tanis drew his sword to strike back, but the weapon shook. in his trembling hand, and he was forced to avert his eyes for the living animals had themselves been twisted and misshapen unto hideous aspects of undying death.

 

Riding among the misshapen beasts were legions of elven warriors, their skull-like features hideous to behold. No- eyes glittered in the hollow sockets of their faces, no flesh covered

 

THE DRAGONS OF WINTER NIGHT

 

the delicate bones of their hands. They rode among the companions with brightly burning swords that drew living blood. But when any weapon struck them, they disappeared into nothing.

 

The wounds they inflicted, however, were real. Caramon, battling a wolf with snakes growing out of its body, looked up to see one of the elven warriors bearing down on him, a shining spear in his fleshless hand. He screamed to his brother for help.

 

Raistlin spoke" "Ast kiranann kair Soth-aran/Suh kali Jalaran:" A ball of flame flashed from the mage's hands to burst directly upon the elf-without effect. Its spear, driven by incredible force, pierced Caramon's armor, entering his body, nailing him to the tree behind.

 

The elven warrior yanked his weapon free from the big man's shoulder. Caramon slumped to the ground, his life's bland mingling with the tree's blood. Raistlin, with a fury that suprised him, drew the silver dagger from the leather thong he wore hidden on his arm and flung it at the elf. The blade pricked its undead spirit and the elven warrior, horse and all, vanished into air. 'fret Caramon lay capon the ground, his arm hanging from his body by only a thin strip of flesh.

 

Goldmoon knelt to heal him, but she stumbled over her prayers, her faith failing her amid the horror.

 

"Help me, Mishakal,"' Goldmoon prayed. "Help me to help my friend.'"

 

The dreadful wound closed. Though blood still seeped from it, trickling down Caramon's arm, death loosed its grip on the warrior Raistlin knelt beside his brother and started to speak to him. Then suddenly the wage fell silent. He stared past Caramon into the trees, his strange eyes widening with disbelief.

 

"You!" Raistlin whispered.

 

' "Who is it?" Caramon asked weakly, hearing a thrill of horror and fear in Raistlin's voice. The big man peered into the green light but could see nothing. "Who do you mean?"

 

But Raistlin, intent upon another conversation, did not answer.

 

'7 need your aid," the mage said sternly. "Now, as before."

 

Caramon sawn his brother stretch out his )hand, as though reaching .across a great gap, and was consumed with fear without knowing why.

"No, Raist!" he cried, clutching at his brother in panic. Raistlin's hand dropped.

 

"Our bargain remains. What? You ask for more?" Raistlin was silent a moment, then he sighed. "Name it!"

 

For long moments, the mage listened, absorbing. Caramon, watching him with loving anxiety, saw his brother"s thin metallic-tinged face grow deathly pale. Raistlin closed his eyes, swallowing as though drinking his bitter herbal brew. Finally he bowed his head.

 

"I accept:"

 

Caramon cried out in horror as he saw Raistlin's robes, the red robes that marked his neutrality in the world, begin to deepen to crimson, then darken to a blood red, and then darken more-to black.

 

"I accept this;' Raistlin repeated more calmly, "with the understanding that the future can be changed. What must we do?"

 

He listened. Caramon clutched his arm, moaning in agony.

 

"How do we get through to the Tower alive?" Raistlin asked his unseen instructor. Once mare he attended carefully, then nodded. "And I will be given what I need? Very well. Farewell then, if such a thing is possible for yaw on your dark journey.'

 

Raistlin rose to his feet, his black robes rustling around him. Ignoring Caramon's sobs and Goldmoon's terrified gasp as she saw him, the mage went in search of Tanis. He found the halfelf, back against a tree, battling a host of elven warriors.

 

Calmly, Raistlin reached into his pouch and drew forth a bit of rabbit fur and a small amber rod. Rubbing these together in his left palm, he held forth his right hand and spoke, "Ast kiranann kair Gadurm Soth-arn,: Sub kala'alaran:'

 

Bolts of lightning shot from his fingertips, streaking through the green-tinted air, striking the elven warriors. As before, they vanished. Tanis stumbled backwards, exhausted.

 

Raistlin stood in the center of a clearing, of the distorted, tormented trees.

 

"Came around me!" the mage commanded his companions.

 

Tanis hesitated. Elven warriors hovered on the fringe of the clearing. They surged forward to attack, but Raistlin raised his hand, and they stopped as though crashing against an unseen wall.

 

"Come to stand near me:' The companions were astonished to hear Raistlin speak-for the first time since his Tests-in a normal voice. "Hurry;" he added, "they will not attack now. They fear me. But I cannot hold them back long:'

 

Tanis came forward, his face pale beneath the red beard, blood dribbling from a wound on his head. Goldmoon helped Caramon stagger forward. He clutched his bleeding arm as his face was twisted in pain. Slowly, one by one, the other companions crept forward. Finally, only Sturm stood outside the circle.

 

"I always knew it would come to this;" the knight said slowly. "I will die before I place myself under your protection, Raistlin:'

 

And with that, the knight turned and walked deeper into the forest. Tanis saw the leader of the elven undead make a gesture, detailing same of his ghastly band to follow. The half-elf started after, then stopped as he felt a surprisingly strong hand grip his arm.

 

"Let him go;' the mage said sternly, "or we are all lost. I have information to impart and my time is limited. We must make our way through this forest to the Tower of the Stars. We mast walk the way of death, for every hideous creature ever conceived in the twisted, tortured dreams of mortals will arose to stop us. But know this-we walk in a dream, Lorac`s nightmare. And our own nightmares as well. Visions of the future can arise to help us-or hinder. Remember, that though our bodies are awake, our minds sleep. Death exists only in our minds-unless we believe otherwise:'

 

"Then why can't we wake up?" Tanis demanded angrily.

 

"Because Lorac's belief in tine dream is too strong and your belief too Weak. When you are firmly convinced, beyond doubt, that this is a dream; you will return to reality:"

 

"Ii this is true;' Tanis said, "and you're convinced it is a dream, why don't you awaken?"

 

"Perhaps;" Raistlin said, smiling, "I choose not to:'

 

"I don't understand!" Tanis cried in bitter frustration.

 

"You will," Raistlin predicted grimly, "or you will die. In which case, it won't matter:'

 

 

Chapter I0

 

Waking dreams. Future visions.

 

Ignoring the horrified stares. of his companions, Raistlin walked to his brother, who stand clutching his bleeding arm.

 

"I will take rare of him," Raistlin said to Goldmoon, putting his own black-robed arm around his twin.

 

"No," Caramon gasped, "you're not strong en-"His voice died as he felt his brothers arm support him..

 

"I am strong enough now, -Caramon:' Raistlin said gently, his very gentleness sending a shiver through the warrior's body. "Lean on me, my brother:'

Weak from pain and fear, for the first time in his life Caramon leaned on Raistlin, The mage supported him as, together, they starting walking through the hideous forest.

 

"What's happening, Raist?'' Caramon asked, choking. "Why do you wear the Black Robes? And your voice-"

 

"Save your breath, my brother;" Raistlin advised softly.

 

The two traveled deeper into the forest, and the undead elven warriors stared menacingly at them from the trees. They could see the hatred the dead bear the living, see it flicker in the hollow eye sockets of the undead warriors. But none dared attack the black-robed mage. Caramon felt his life's blood well thick and warm from between his fingers. As he watched it drip upon the dead, slime-coated leaves beneath his feet, he grew weaker and weaker. He had the fevered impression that the black shadow of himself gained in strength even as he lost it.

 

Tanis hurried through the forest, searching for Sturm. He found him fighting off a group of shimmering elven warriors.

 

"It's a dream;" Tanis shouted to Sturm, who stabbed and slashed at the undead creatures. Every time he struck one, it vanished, only to reappear once more. The half-elf drew his sward, running to fight at Sturm's side.

 

"Bah!" the knight grunted: then gasped in pain as an arrow thudded into his arm. The wound was not deep, because the chain mail protected him, bur, it bled freely. "Is this dreaming?" Sturm said, yanking out the blood-stained shaft.

 

Tanis jumped in front of the knight, keeping their foes back until Sturm could stanch the flow of blood.

 

"Raistlin told us-" Tanis began.

 

"Raistlin! Hah! Look at hid robes, Tanis!"

 

"But you're hero! In Silvanesti!" Tanis protested in confusion.. He had the strangest feeling he was arguing with himself. "Alhana said you were in Ice Wall!"

 

The knight shrugged. "Perhaps I was sent to help you:'

 

All right. It's a dream, Tanis told himself. I will wake up.

 

But there was no change. The elves were still there, still fighting. Sturm must be right. Raistlin .had lied. Just as he had lied before they entered the forest. But why? To what purpose?

 

Theca Tanis knew. The dragon orb!

 

"We've got to reach the Tower before Raistlin!" Tanis cried to Sturm. "I know what the mage is after"

 

The knight could do nothing more than nod. It seemed to Tanis that from then on they did nothing but fight for every inch of ground they gained. Time and again, the two warriors forced the elven undead back, only to be attacked in everincreasing numbers. Time passed, they knew, but they had no conception of its passing. One moment the sun shone through the stifling green haze. Then night's shadows hovered over the land like the wings of dragons.

 

Then, just as the darkness deepened, Sturm and Tanis saw the Tower. Built of marble, the tall Tower glistened white. It stood alone in a clearing, reaching up to the heavens like -a skeletal finger clawing up from the grave.

 

At sight of the Tower, both men began to run. Though weak and exhausted, neither wanted to be in these deadly woods after nightfall. The elven warriors-seeing their prey escaping-screamed in rage and charged after them.

 

Tanis ran until it seemed his lungs would burst with pain. Sturm ran ahead of him, slashing at the undead who appeared before them, trying to block their path. Just as Tanis neared the Tower, he felt a tree root twist itself around his boot. He pitched headlong onto the ground.

 

Frantically Tanis fought to free himself, but the root held him fast. Tanis struggled helplessly as an undead elf, his face twisted grotesquely, raised a spear to drive it through Tanis's body. Suddenly the elf's eyes widened, the spear fell from nerveless fingers as a sword punctured its transparent body. The elf vanished with a shriek.

 

Tanis looked up to see who had saved his life. It was a strange warrior, strange-yet familiar. The warrior removed his helm, and Tanis stared into bright brown eyes!

 

"Kitiara!" he gasped in shock. "You're here! How? Why?"

 

"I heard you needed some help;" Kit said, her crooked smile as charming as ever. "Seems I was right:" She reached out her hand. He grasped it, doubting as she pulled him to his feet. But she was flesh and blood. "Who's that ahead? Sturm? Wonderful! Like old times! Shall we go to the Tower?" she asked Tanis, laughing at the surprise on his face.

 

Riverwind fought alone, battling legions of undead elven warriors. He knew he could not take much more. Then he heard a clear call. Raising his eyes, he saw Que-shu tribesmen! He cried out joyfully. But, to his horror, he saw them turning their arrows upon him.

 

"No?" he shouted in Que-shu. "Don"t you recognize me? I..."

 

The Que-shu warriors answered only with their bow strings. Riverwind felt shaft after feathered shaft sink inks his body.

 

"You brought the blue crystal staff among us!" they cried. "Your fault! The destruction of our village was your fault!"

 

"[didn't mean to;' he whispered as he slumped to the ground. "I didn't know. Forgive me:"

 

Tika hacked and slashed her way through elven warriors only to see them turn suddenly intro draconians! Their reptile eyes gleamed red, their tongues licked their swords. Fear chilled the barmaid. Stumbling, she bumped into Sturm. Angrily the knight whirled, ordering her out of his way. She staggered back and jostled Flint. The dwarf impatiently shoved her aside.

 

Blinded by tears" panic-stricken at the sigh) of the draconians, who sprang back. into battle full-,grown foam them own dead bodies, Tike; last control. In her fear, she stabbed wildly at anything that moved.

 

Only when she looked up and :saw Raistlin standing before her in his black robes dial she come to her senses. The made said nothing: he simply pointed downward. Flint la!," dead at her feet, pierced by her own sword.

 

I led them here,. Flint thought. This is my responsibility. I'm the eldest. I'II get them out.

 

The dwarf hefted his. battle-axe .and yelled a challenge to the elven warriors before him. But they just kaughed

 

Angrily. Flint strode forward - only to find himself walking stiffly. His knee joints were swollen. and hurt abominably. His gnarled fingers trembled with a palsy that: made him lose his grip on the battle-axe. His breath came short., -And then Flint knew why the elves weren't attacking: they were lelting old age finish him.

 

Even as he realized flays., Flint felt his mind begin to wander. His vision blurred. Patting his vest packet, he wondered where he had put those confounded spectacles. A shape loomed before him, a familiar shape. Was it Tika? Without his glasses, he couldn't see

 

Goldmoon ran among the twisted, tortured trees. Lost and alone, she searched desperately for her friends. Far away, she heard Riverwind calling for her above the ringing clash of swords. Then she heard his call cut off in a bubble of agony. Frantically she dashed forward, fighting her way through the brambles until her hands and face were bleeding. At last she found Riverwind. The warrior lay upon the ground, pierced by many arrows-arrows she recognised!

 

Running to him, she knelt beside him. "Heal him, Mishakal," she prayed, as she had prayed so often.

 

Hut nothing happened. The color did not return to Riverwind's ashen face. His eyes remained locked, staring fixedly into the green-tinged sky.

 

"Why don't you answer? Heal him!" Goldmoon cried to the gods. And then she knew. "No!" she screamed. "Punish me! I am the one who has doubted. lam the one who has questioned! I saw Tarsis destroyed, children dying in agony) How could you allow that? I toy to have faith, but I cannot help doubting when I see such horrors! Do not punish him:' Weeping, she bent over the lifeless body of her husband. She did not see the elven warriors closing in around her.

 

Tasslehoff, fascinated by the horrible wonders around him, wandered off the path, and there discovered that-somehow his friends had managed to lose him. The undead did not bother him. They who fed oft fear felt no fear in his small body.

 

Finally, after roaming here and there for nearly a day, the kender reached the doors to the 'Tower of the Stars. Here his lighthearted journey came to a sudden halt, for he had found his friends-one of them at least.

 

Sacked up against the closed doors, Tika fought for her life against. a host of misshapen, nightmare-begotten foes. Tas saw that if she could get inside the Tower, she would be safe. Dashing forward, his small body flitting easily through the melee, the reached the door and began to examine the lock while Tika held the elves back with her wildly swinging sword.

 

"Hurry, Tas!" she cried breathlessly.

 

It was an easy lock to open; with such a simplistic trap to protect it, Tas was surprised that the elves even bothered.

 

"I should have this lock picked in seconds;' he announced. Just as he set to work, however, something bumped him from behind, causing him to fumble.

 

"Hey!" he shocked at Tika irritably, turning around. "Be a little more careful-" He stopped short, horrified. Tika lay at his feet, blood flowing into her red curls.

 

"No, not Tika!" Tas whispered. Maybe she was only wounded! Maybe if he got her inside the Tower, someone could help her. Tears dimmed his vision, his hands shook.

 

I've got to hurry, Tas thought frantically. Why won"t this open? It's so simple. Furious, he tore at the lock.

 

He felt a small prick in his finger just as the lock clicked. The door to the Tower began to swing open. But Tasslehoff just stared at his finger where a tiny spot of blood glistened. He looked back at the lock where a small, golden needle sparkled. A simple lock, a simple trap. He'd sprung them both. And, as the first effects of the poison surged with a terrible warmness through his body, he looked down to see he was too late. Tika was dead.

 

Raistlin and his brother made their way through the forest without injury. Caramon watched in growing amazement as Raistlin drove back the evil creatures that assailed them; sometimes with feats of incredible magic, sometimes through the sheer farce of his will.

 

Raistlin was kind and gentle and solicitous. Caramon was forced to strap frequently as the day waned. By twilight, it was all Caramon could do to drag one foot in front of the other, even leaning upon his brother far support. And as Caramon grew ever weaker, Raistlin grew stronger.

 

Finally, when night's shadows fell, bunging a merciful end to the tortured green day, the twins reached the Tower. Here they stopped. Caramon was feverish and in pairs.

 

"I've got to rest, Raist:' he gasped. "Put me down:"

 

"Certainly, my brother;" Raistlin said gently. He helped Caramon lean against the pearl wall of the Tower, then regarded his brother with tool, glittering eyes.

"Farewell, Caramon;' he said.

 

Caramon looked at his twin in disbelief. Within the shadows of the trees, the warrior could see the undead elves, who had followed them at a respectful distance, creep closer as they realized the mage who had warded them off was leaving.

 

"Raist;' Caramon said slowly, "you can't leave me here! I can't fight them. I don't have the strength! I need you!"

 

"Perhaps, but you see, my brother, I no longer need you. I have gained your strength. Now, finally, I am as I was meant to be but for nature's cruel trick-one whale person:"

 

As Caramon stared, uncomprehending, Raistlin turned to leave.

 

'Raist!"

 

Caramon's agonized cry halted him. Raistlin stopped and gazed back at his twin, his golden eyes all that were visible from within the depths of his black hood.

 

"How does it feel to be weak and afraid, my brother?" he asked softly. Turning, Raistlin walked to the Tower entrance where Tika and Tas lay dead. Raistlin stepped over the kender's body and vanished into the darkness.

 

Sturm and Tanis and Kitiara, reaching the Tower, saw a body tying on the grass at its base. Phantom shapes of undead elves were starting to surround it, shrieking and yelling, hacking at it with their cold swords.

 

"Caramon!" Tanis cried, heartsick.

 

"And where's his brother?" Sturm asked with a sidelong glance at Kitiara. "Left him to die, no doubt."

 

Tanis shook his head as they ran forward to aid the warrior. Wielding their swords, Sturm and Kitiara kept the elves at bay while Tanis knelt beside the mortally wounded warrior.

 

Caramon lifted his glazed eyes and met Tanis's, barely recognizing him through the bloody haze that dimmed his vision. He tried desperately to talk.

 

"Protect Raistlin, Tanis-" Caramon choked on his own. blood-"since I won't be there now. Watch over him."

 

"Watch over Raistlin 7" Tanis repeated furiously. "He left you here, to die!" Tanis held Caramon in his arms.

 

Caramon closed his eyes wearily. 'No, you're wrong, Tanis. I sent him away. - . :"The warrior's head slumped .forward.

 

THE DRAGONS OF WINTER NIGHT

 

Night's shadows closed over them. The elves had disappeared. Sturm and Kit came to stand beside the dead warrior.

 

"What did I tell you?" Sturm asked harshly.

 

"Poor Caramon," Kitiara whispered, bending down near him. "Somehow I always guessed it would end this way:" She was silent for a moment, then spoke softly. "So my little Raistlin has become truly powerful,"' she mused, almost to herself.

 

"At the cost of your brother's life!"

 

Kitiara looked at Tanis as if perplexed at his meaning. Then, shrugging, she glanced down at Caramon, who lay in a pool of his own blood. "Poor kid;' she said softly.

 

Sturm covered Caramon's body with his cloak, then they sought the entrance to the Tower.

 

"Tanis-" Sturm said, pointing.

 

"Oh, no. Not Tas," Tanis murmured. "And Tika.''

 

The kenders body lay just inside the doorway, his small limbs twisted by convulsions from the poison. Near him lay the barmaid, her red curls matted with blood. Tanis knelt beside them. One of the kender's packs had opened in his death throes, its contents scattered. Tanis caught sight of a glint of gold. Reaching down, he picked up the ring of elven make, carved in the shape of ivy leaves. His vision blurred, tears filled his eyes as he covered his face with his hands.

 

'There's nothing we can do, Tanis:' Sturm put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "We've got to keep going and put an end to this. If I do nothing else, I'll live to kill Raistlin'

 

Death is in the mind. This is a dream, Tanis repeated. But it was Raistlin's words he was remembering, and he'd seen what the mage had become.

 

L will wake up., he thought, bending the full force of his will to believing it was a dream. But when he opened his eyes, the kender's body stall lay on the floor.

 

Clasping the ring in his hand, Tanis followed Kit and Sturm into a dank, slime-covered, marble hallway. Paintings hung in golden frames upon marble walls. Tall, stained-glass windows let in a lurid, ghastly light. The hallway might have been beautiful ante, but now even the paintings on the walls appeared distorted, portraying horrifying visions of death. Gradually, as the three walked, they became aware of a brilliant green light emanating froze. a room at the end of the corridor.

They could feel a malevolence radiate from that green light, beating upon their faces with the warmth of a perverted sun.

 

"The center of the evil;" Tanis said. Anger filled his heart, anger, grief, and a burning desire for revenge. He started to run forward, but the green-tainted air seemed to press upon him, holding him back until each step was an effort.

 

Next to him, Kitiara staggered. Tanis put his arm around her, though he could barely find the strength to move himself. Kit's face was drenched with sweat, the dark hair curled around her damp forehead. Her eyes were wide with fear-the first time Tanis ever saw her afraid. Sturm's breath came in gasps as the knight struggled forward, weighted down by his armor.

 

At first, they seemed to make no progress at all. Then slowly, they realized they were inching forward, drawing nearer and nearer the green-lit room. Its bright light was now painful to their eyes, and movement exacted a terrible toll. Exhaustion claimed them, muscles ached, lungs burned.

 

Just as Tanis realized he could not take another step, he heard a voice call his name. Lifting his aching head, he saw Laurana standing in front of him, her elven sword in her hand. The heaviness seemingly had no effect on her at all, for she ran to him with a glad cry.

 

"Tanthalas! You're all right! I've been waiting-"

She broke off, her eyes on the woman clasped in Tanis's arm.

 

 "Who-" Laurana started to ask, then suddenly, somehow she knew. This was the human woman, Kitiara. The woman

Tanis loved. Laurana's face went white, then red.

 "Laurana-" Tanis began, feeling confusion and guilt sweep over him, hating himself for causing her pain.

 "Tanis! Sturm!" Kitiara cried, pointing.

 Startled by the fear in her voice, all of them turned, staring down the green-lit marble corridor.

 "Drakus Tsaro, deghnyah!' Sturm intoned in Solamnic.

 At the end of the corridor loomed a gigantic green dragon.

His name was Cyan Bloodbane, and he was one of the largest dragons on Krynn. Only the Great Red herself was larger.

Snaking his head through a doorway, he blotted out the blinding green light with his hulking body. Cyan smelled steel and human flesh and elven blood. He peered with fiery eyes at them.

 

They could not move. Overcome with the dragonfear, they could only stand and stare as the dragon crashed through the doorway, shattering the marble wall as easily as if it had been baked mud. His mouth gaping wide, Cyan moved down the corridor.

 

There was nothing they could do. Their weapons dangled from hands gone nerveless. Their thoughts were of death. But, even as the dragon neared, a dark shadowy figure crept from the deeper shadows of an unseen doorway and came to stand before them, facing them.

 

"Raistlin!" :Sturm said quietly. "By all the gods, you will pay for your brother's life!"

 

Forgetting the dragon, remembering only Caramon's lifeless body, the knight sprang toward the mage, his sword raised. Raistlin just stared at him coldly.

 

''Kill me, knight, and you doom yourself and the others to death, for through my magic-and my magic alone-will you be able to defeat Cyan Bloodbane!"

 

"Hold, Stucco!'" Though his soul was Filled with loathing, Tanis knew the mage was right. He could feel Raistlin's power radiate &rough the black robes. `We need his help:'

 

"No;' Sturm said, shaking his head and backing away as Raistlin neared the group. "I said before-I will not rely on his protection. Not now. Farewell, Tanis"

 

Before any of them could strap him Sturm walked past Raistlin toward -Cyan Bloodbane.. The great dragon's head wove back and forth in eager anticipation of this first challenge to his power since he had conquered Siilvanesti.

 

Tanis clutched Raistlin. "Do something!"

 

"The knight is, in my way. Whatever spell I cast will destroy him too:" Raistlin answered,

 

"Sturm!" Tanis shouted, his voice echoing mournfully.

 

The knight hesitated. He was, listening but not to Tanis's voice. What he heard was the -clear, clarion call of a trumpet, its music cold as, the air from the snow-covered mountains of his homeland, Pure and crisp, the trumpet call rose bravely above the darkness and dead and -despair to pierce his heart.

 

Sturm answered the trumpet's call with a glad battle cry. He raised his sword-the sword of his father" its antique blade twined with the kingfisher and the rose. Silver moonlight streaming through a broken window caught the sword in a pure-white radiance that shredded the noxious green air.

 

Again the trumpet sounded, and again Sturm answered, but this time his voice faltered, for the trumpet call he heard had changed tone. No longer sweet and pure, it was braying and harsh and shrill.

 

No". thought Sturm in horror as he neared the dragon. Those were the horns of the enemy! He had been lured into a trap! Around him now he could see draconian soldiers, creeping from behind the dragon, laughing cruelly at his gullibility.

 

Sturm stopped, gripping his sword in a hand that was sweating inside its glove. The dragon loomed above him, a creature undefeatable, surrounded by masses of his troops, slavering and licking his jowls with his curled tongue.

 

Fear knotted Sturm's stomach; his skin grew cold and clammy. The horn call sounded a third time, terrible and evil. It was all over. It had all been for nothing. Death, ignominious defeat awaited him. Despair descending, he looked around fearfully. Where was Tanis? He needed Tanis, but he could not find him. Desperately he repeated the code of the knights, MY Honor !s My Life, but the words sounded hollow and meaningless in his ears. He was not a knight. What did the Code mean to him? He had been living a lie! Sturm's swordarm wavered, then dropped; his sword fell from his hand and he sank to his knees, shivering and weeping like a child, hiding his head from the terror before him.

 

With one swipe of his shining talons, Cyan Bloodbane ended Sturm's life, impaling the knight's body: upon a blood-stained claw. Disdainfully, Cyan shook the wretched human to the floor while the draconians swept shrieking toward the knight's still-living body, intent upon hacking it to pieces.

 

But they found their way blocked. A bright figure, shining silver in the moonlight, ran to the knight's body. Reaching down swiftly, Laurana lifted Sturm's sword. Then, straightening, she faced the draconians.

 

"Touch him and you twill die;' she said through her tears.

 

"Laurana!" Tanis screamed and tried to run forward to help her. But draconians sprang at him. He slashed at them desperately, trying to reach the elfrmaid, Just when he had wan through, he heard Kitiara call his name. Whirling, he saw her being beaten back by four draconians. The half-elf stopped in agony, hesitating, and at that moment Laurana fell across Sturm's body, her own body pierced by draconian swords.

 

"No! Laurana!" Tanis shouted. Starting to go to her, he heard Kitiara cry out again. He stopped, turning. Clutching at his head, he stood irresolute and helpless, forced to watch as Kitiara fell beneath the enemy.

 

The half-elf sobbed in frenzy, feeling himself begin to sink into madness, longing for death to end this pain. He clutched the magic sword of Kith-Kanan and rushed toward the dragon, his one thought to kill and be killed.

 

But Raistlin blocked his path, stranding in front of the dragon like a black obelisk.

 

Tanis fell to the floor, knowing his death was fixed. Clasping the small golden ring firmly in his hand, he waited to die.

 

Then he heard the mage chanting strange and powerful words. He heard the dragon roar in rage. The two were battling, but Tanis didn't care. With eyes closed fast, he blotted out the sounds .around him, blotted out life. Only one thing remained real. The golden ring he held tightly in his hand.

 

Suddenly Tanis became acutely conscious of the ring pressing into his palm: the metal was cool, its edges rough. He could feel the golden twisted ivy leaves bite into his flesh.

 

Tanis closed his hand, squeezing the ring. The gold bit into his flesh, bit deeply. Pain . . . real pain . . .

 

I am dreaming!

 

Tanis opened his eyes. Solinari's silver moonlight flooded the Tower, mingled with the red beams of Lunitari. He was lying on a cold, marble floor. His hand was clasped tightly, so tightly that pain had wakened him. Pain? The ring. The dream! Remembering the dream, Tanis sat up in terror and looked around. But the hall was empty except for one other person. Raistlin slumped against a wall, coughing.

 

The half-elf staggered to his feet and walked shakily toward Raistlin. As he drew nearer, he could see blood on the mage's lips. The blood gleamed red in Lunitari's light-as red as the robes that covered Raistlin's frail., shivering body.

 

The dream.

 

Tanis opened his hand. It was empty.

 

 

Chapter II

The Dream ends. The Nightmare begins.

 

 

The half-elf stared around the hallway. It was as empty as his hand. The bodies of his friends were gone. The dragon was gone. Wind blew through a shattered wall, fluttering Waistline's red robes about him, scattering dead aspen leaves along the floor. The half-elf walked over to Raistlin, catching the young mage in his arms as he collapsed.

"Where are they?" Tanis asked, shaking Raistlin. "Laurana? Sturm? And the others, your brother? Are they dead?" He glanced around. "And the dragon-"

"The dragon is gone. The orb sent the dragon away when it realized it could not defeat me:" Pushing himself from Tanis's grasp, Raistlin stood alone, huddled against the marble wall. "It could not defeat me as I was. A child could defeat me now;" he said bitterly. "As for the others"-he shrugged-"I do not know:' He turned his strange eyes on Tanis. "You lived, half-elf, because your love was strong. I lived because of my ambition. We clung to reality in the midst of the nightmare. Who can say with the others?"

"Caramon's alive, then;" Tanis said. "Because of his love. With his last breath, he begged me to spare your life. Tell me, mage, was this future you say we saw irreversible?"

"Why ask?" Raistlin said wearily. "Would you kill me, Tanis? Now?"

"I don't know;' Tanis said softly, thinking of Caramon's dying words. "Perhaps:"

Raisted smiled bitterly. "Save your energy;" he said. "The future changes as we stand here, else we are the game pieces of the gods, not their heirs, as we have been promised. But"the mage pushed himself away from the wall-"this is far from over. We must find Lorac-and the dragon orb:"

Raistlin shuffled down the hall, leaning heavily upon the Staff of Magius, its crystal lighting the darkness now that the green light had died.

Green light. Tanis stood in the hallway, lost in confusion, trying to wake up, trying to separate the dream from realityfor the dream seemed much more real than any of this did now. He stared at the shattered wall. Surely there had been a dragon? And a blinding green light at the end of the corridor? But the hallway was dark. Night had fallen. It had been morning when they started. The moons had not been up, yet now they were full. How many nights had passed? How many days?

Then Tanis heard a booming voice at other end of the corridor, near the doorway.

"Raist!"

The mage stopped, his shoulder slumped. Then he turned slowly. "My brother;' he whispered.

Caramon-alive and apparently uninjured-stood in the doorway, outlined against the starry night. He stared at his twin.

Then Tanis heard Raistlin sigh softly.

"I am tired, Caramon:' The mage coughed, then drew a wheezing br eath. "And there is still much to be done before this nightmare is ended, before the three moons set:' Raistlin extended his thin arm. "I need your help, brother:'

Tan is heard Caramon heave a shuddering sob. The big man ran into the room, his sword clanking at his thigh. Reaching his brother, he put his arm around him.

Raistlin leaned on Caramon's strong arm. Together, the twins walked down the cold hallway and through the shattered wall toward the room where Tanis had seen the green light and the dragon. His heart heavy with foreboding, Tanis followed them.

The three entered the audience room of the Tower of the Stars. Tanis looked at it curiously. He had heard of its beauty all his life. The Tower of the Sun in Qualinost had been built in remembrance of this Tower-the Tower of the Stars. The two were alike, yet not alike. One was filled with light, one filled with darkness. He stared around. The Tower soared above him in marble spirals that shimmered with a pearly radiance. It had been built to collect moonlight, as the Tower of the Sun collected sunlight. Windows carved into the Tower were faceted with gems that caught and magnified the light of the two moons, Solinari and Lunitari, making red and silver moonbeams dance in the chamber. But now the gems were broken. The moonlight that filtered in was distorted, the silver turning to the pale white of a corpse, the red to blood.

Tanis, shivering, looked straight up to the top. In Qualinost, there were murals on the ceiling, portraying the sun, the constellations, and the two moons. But here there was nothing but a carved hole in the top of the Tower. Through the hole, he could see only empty blackness. The stars did not shine. It was as if a perfectly round, black sphere had appeared in the starry darkness. Before he could ponder what this portended, he heard Raistlin speak softly, and he turned.

There, in the shadows at the front of the audience chamber was Alhana's father, Lorac, the elfking.His shrunken and cadaverous body almost disappeared in a huge stone throne, fancifully carved with birds and animals. It must once have been beautiful, but now the animals' heads were skulls.

Lorac sat motionless, his head thrown back, his mouth wide in a silent scream. His hand rested upon a round crystal globe.

"Is he alive?" Tanis asked in horror.

"Yes;' Raistlin answered, "undoubtedly to his sorrow:'

"What's wrong with him?"

"He is living a nightmare;' Raistlin answered, pointing to Lorac's hand. "There is the dragon orb. Apparently he tried to take control of it. He was not strong enough, so the orb seized control of him. The orb called Cyan Bloodbane here to guard Silvanesti, and the dragon decided to destroy it by whispering nightmares into Lorac's ear. Lorac's belief in the nightmare was so strong, his empathy with his land so great, that the nightmare became reality. Thus, it was his dream we were living when we entered. His dream-and our own. For we too came under the dragons control when we stepped into Silvanesti:'

"You knew we faced this!" Tanis accused, grabbing Raistlin by the shoulder and spinning him around. "You knew what we were walking into, there on the shores of the river-"

"Tanis," Caramon said warningly, removing the half-elf's hand. "Leave him alone:'

"Perhaps;' Raistlin said, rubbing his shoulder, his eyes narrow. "Perhaps not. I need not reveal my knowledge or its source to you!"

Before he could reply, Tanis heard a moan. It sounded as if it came from the base of the throne. Casting Raistlin an angry glance, Tanis turned quickly from him and stared into the shadows. Warily he approached, his sword drawn.

"Alhana!" The elfmaid crouched at her father's feet, her head in his lap, weeping. She did not seem to hear Tanis. He went to her. "Alhana;" he said gently.

She looked up at him without recognition.

"Alhana;" he said again.

She blinked, then shuddered, and grabbed hold of his hand as if clutching at reality.

"Half-Elven!" she whispered.

"How did you get here? What happened?"

"I heard the mage say it was a dream;" Alhana answered, shivering at the memory, "and I-I refused to believe in the dream. I woke, but only to find the nightmare was real! My beautiful land filled with horrors!" She hid her face in her hands. Tanis knelt beside her and held her close.

"I made my way here. It took-days. Through the nightmare." She gripped Tanis tightly. 'When I entered the Tower, the dragon caught me. He brought me here, to my father, thinking to make Lorac murder me. But not even in his nightmare could my father harm his own child. So Cyan tortured him with visions-of what he would do to me:'

"And you? You saw them, too?" Tanis whispered, stroking the woman's long, dark hair with a soothing hand.

After a moment, Alhana spoke. "It wasn't so bad. I knew it was nothing but a dream. But to my poor father it was reality-" She began to sob.

The half-elf motioned to Caramon. 'Take Alhana to a room where she can lie down. We'll do what we can for her father."

"I will be all right, my brother;" Raistlin said in answer to Caramon's look of concern. "Do as Tanis says."

"Come, Alhana;' Tanis urged her, helping her stand. She staggered with weariness. "Is there a place you can rest? You'll need your strength."

At first she started to argue, then she realized how weak she was. "Take me to my father's room;" she said. "I'll show you the way:" Caramon put his arm around her, and slowly they began to walk from the chamber.

Tanis turned back to Lorac. Raistlin stood before the elfking. Tanis heard the mage speaking softly to himself.

"What is it" the half-elf said quietly. "Is he dead?"

"Who?" Raistlin started, blinking. He saw Tanis looking at Lorac. "Oh, Lorac7 No, I do not believe so. Not yet:'

Tanis realized the mage had been staring at the dragon orb.

"Is the orb still in control?" Tanis asked nervously, his eyes on the object they had gone through so much to find.

The dragon orb was a huge globe of crystal, at least twentyfour inches across. It sat upon a stand of gold that had been carved in hideous, twisted designs, mirroring the twisted, tormented life of Silvanesti. Though the orb must have been the source of the brilliant green light, there was now only a faint, iridescent, pulsing glow at its heart.

Raistlin's hands hovered over the globe, but, Tanis noted, he was careful not to touch it as he chanted the spidery words of magic. A faint aura of red began to surround the globe. Tanis backed away.

"Do not fear;" Raistlin whispered, watching as the aura died. "It is my spell. The globe is enchanted-still. Its magic has not died with the passing of the dragon, as I thought possible. It is still in control, however:"

"Control of Lorac?"

"Control of itself. It has released Lorac:'

"Did you do this?" Tanis murmured. "Did you defeat it?"

"The orb is not defeated!" Raistlin said sharply. 'With help, I was able to defeat the dragon. Realizing Cyan Bloodbane was losing, the orb sent him away. It let go of Lorac because it could no longer use him. But the orb is still very powerful:'

"Raistlin, tell me-"

"I have no more to say Tanis :' The young mage coughed. "I must conserve my energy:"

Whose help had Raistlin received? What else did he know of this orb? Tanis opened his mouth to pursue the subject, then he saw Raistlin's golden eyes flicker. The half-elf fell silent.

"We can free Lorac now;' Raistlin added. Walking to the elf king, he gently removed Lorac's hand from the dragon orb, then put his slender fingers to Lorac's neck. "He lives. For the time being. The lifebeat is weak. You may come closer:"

But Tanis, his eyes on the dragon orb, held back. Raistlin glanced at the half-elf, amused, then beckoned.

Reluctantly, Tanis approached. "Tell me one more thingcan the orb still be of use to us?"

For long moments, Raistlin was silent. Then, faintly, he replied. "Yes, if we dare:'

Lorac drew a shivering breath, then screamed-a thin, wailing scream horrible to hear. His hands-little more than laving skeletal claws-twisted and writhed. His eyes were tightly closed. In vain, Tanis tried to calm him. Lorac screamed until he was out of breath, and then he screamed silently.

"Father!" Tanis heard Alhana cry. She reappeared in the doorway of the audience chamber and pushed Cararnon aside. Running to her father, she grasped his bony hand in hers. Kissing his hands, she wept, pleading for him to be silent.

"Rest, Father;" she repeated over and over. "The nightmare is ended. The dragon is gone. You can sleep, Father!"

But the man's screaming continued.

"In the name of the gods!" Caramon said as he came up to them, his face pale. "I can't take much of this:"

"Father!" Alhana pleaded, calling to him again and again. Slowly her beloved voice penetrated the twisted dreams that lingered on in Lorac's tortured mind. Slowly his screams died to little more than horrified whimpers. Then, as if fearing what he might see, he opened his eyes.

"Alhana, my child. Alive!" He lifted a shaking hand to touch her cheek. "It cannot be! I saw you die, Alhana. I saw you die a hundred times, each time more horrifying than the last. He killed you, Alhana. He wanted me to kill you. But I could not. Though I know not why, as I have killed so many:" Then he caught sight of Tanis. His eyes flared open, shining with hatred.

"You!" Lorac snarled, rising from his chair, his gnarled hands clutching the sides of the throne. "You, half-elf! I killed you-or tried to. I must protect Silvanesti! I killed you! I killed those with you:" Then his eyes went to Raistlin. The look of hatred was replaced by one of fear. Trembling, he shrank away from the mage. "But you, you I could not kill!"

Lorac's look of terror changed to confusion. "No;" he cried. "You are not he! Your robes are not black! Who are you?" His eyes went back to Tanis. "And you? You are not a threat? What have I done?" He moaned.

"Don't, Father;" Alhana pleaded, soothing him, stroking his fevered face. "You must rest now. The nightmare is ended. Silvanesti is safe:'

Caramon lifted Lorac in his strong arms and carried him to his chambers. Alhana walked next to him, her father's hand held fast in her own.

Safe, Tanis thought, glancing out the windows at the tormented trees. Although the undead elven warriors no longer stalked the woods, the tortured shapes Lorac had created in his nightmare still lived. The trees, contorted in agony, still wept blood. Who will live here now? Tanis wondered sadly. The elves will not return. Evil things will enter this dark forest and Lorac's nightmare will become reality.

Thinking of the nightmarish forest, Tanis suddenly wondered where his other friends were. Were they all right? What if they had believed the nightmare-as Raistlin said? Would they have truly died? His heart sinking, he knew he would have to go back into that demented forest and search for them.

Just as the half-elf began to try and force his weary body to action, his friends entered the Tower room.

"I killed him!" Tika cried, catching sight of Tanis. Her eyes were wide with grief and terror. "No! Don't touch me, Tanis. You don't know what I've done. I killed Flint! I didn't mean to, Tanis, I swear!"

As Caramon entered the room, Tika turned to him, sobbing. "I killed Flint, Caramon. Don't come near me!"

"Hush;" Caramon said, gently enfolding her in his big arms. "It was a dream, Tika. That's what Raist says. The dwarf was never here. Shhh:' Stroking Tika's red curls, he kissed her. Tika clung to him, Caramon clung to her, each finding comfort with the other. Gradually Tika's sobs lessened.

"My friend;" Goldmoon said, reaching out to embrace Tanis.

Seeing the grave, somber expression on her face, the half-elf held her tightly, glancing questioningly at River-wind. .What had each of them dreamed? But the Plainsman only shook his head, his own face pale and grieved.

Then it occurred to Tanis that each must have lived through his or her own dream, and he suddenly remembered Kitiara! How real she had been! And Laurana, dying. Closing his eyes, Tanis laid his head against Goldmoon's. He felt Riverwind's strong arms surround them both. Their love blessed him. The horror of the dream began to recede.

And then Tanis had a terrifying thought. Lorac's dream became reality! Would theirs?

Behind him, Tanis heard Raistlin begin to cough. Clutching his chest, the mage sank down onto the steps leading up to Lorac's throne. Tanis saw Caramon, still holding Tika, glance at his brother in concern. But Raistlin ignored his brother. Gathering his robes around him, the mage lay down on the cold floor and closed his eyes in exhaustion.

Sighing, Caramon pressed Tika closer. Tanis watched her small shadow become part of Caramon's larger one as they stood together, their bodies outlined in the distorted silver and red beams of the fractured moonlight.

We all must sleep, Tanis thought, feeling his own ewes burn. Yet how can we? How can we ever sleep again?

 

Chapter I2

Visions shared the death of Lorac.

 

Yet finally they slept. Huddled on the stone floor of the Tower of the Stars, they kept as near each other as possible. While, as they slept, others in lands cold and hostile, lands far from Silvanesti, wakened.

Laurana woke first. Starting up from a deep sleep with a cry, at first she had no idea where she was. She spoke one word, "Silvanesti!"

Flint, trembling, woke to find that his fingers still moved, the pains in his legs were no worse than usual.

Sturm woke in panic. Shaking with terror, for long moments he could only crouch beneath his blankets, shuddering. Then he heard something outside his tent. Starting up, hand on his sword, he crept forward and threw open the tent flap.

"Oh!" Laurana gasped at the sight of his haggard face.

"I'm sorry;" Sturm said. "I didn't mean-" Then he saw she was shaking so she could scarcely hold her candle. "What is it?"' he asked, alarmed, drawing her out of the cold.

"I-I know this sounds silly;' Laurana said, flushing, "but I had the most frightening dream and I couldn't sleep:"

Shivering, she allowed Sturm to lead her inside the tent. The flame of her candle cast leaping shadows around the tent. Sturm, afraid she might drop it, took it from her.

"I didn't mean to wake you, but I heard you call out. And my dream was so real! You were in it-I saw you-"

"What is Silvanesti like?" Sturm interrupted abruptly.

Laurana stared at him. "But that's where I dreamed we were! Why did you ask? Unless . . . you dreamed of Silvanesti, too!"

Sturm wrapped his cloak around him, nodding. "I-" he began, then heard another noise outside the tent. This time, he just opened the tent flap. "Come in, Flint;' he said wearily.

The dwarf stumped inside, his face flushed. He seemed embarrassed to find Laurana there, however, and stammered and stamped until Laurana smiled at him.

"We know;' she said. "You had a dream. Silvanesti?"

Flint coughed, clearing his throat and wiping his face with his hand. "Apparently I'm not the only one?" he asked, staring narrowly at the other two from beneath his bushy eyebrows. "I suppose you-you want me to tell you what I dreamed?"

"No!" Sturm said hurriedly, his face pale. "No, I do not want to talk about it-ever!"

"Nor I;' Laurana said softly.

Hesitantly, Flint patted her shoulder. "I'm glad;" he said gruffly. "I couldn't talk about mine either. I just wanted to see if it was a dream. It seemed so real I expected to find you both-"

The dwarf stopped. There was a rustling sound outside, then Tasslehoff burst excitedly through the tent flag.

"Did I hear you talking about a dream? I newer dream-at least not that I remember. Kender don't, much. Oh, I suppose we do. Even animals dream, but-" He caught Flint's eve and came hurriedly back to the original subject. "Well! f had the most fantastic dream! Trees crying blood. Horrible dead elves going around killing people! Raistlin wearing black robes! It was the most incredible thing! And you were there, Sturm. Laurana and Flint. And everyone died! Well, almost everyone. Raistlin didn't. And there was a green dragon-'

Tasslehoff stopped. What was wrong with his friends? Their faces were deathly pale, their eyes wide. "G-green dragon;' he stammered. "Raistlin, dressed in black. Did I mention that? Qquite becoming, actually. Red always makes him look kind of jaundiced, if you know what I mean. You don't. Well, I g-guess I'll go back to bed. If you don't want to hear anymore?" He looked around hopefully. No one answered.

"Well, g-night;' he mumbled. Backing out of the tent precipitously, he returned to his bed, shaking his head, puzzled. What was the matter with everyone? It was only a dream.

For long moments, no one spoke. Then Flint sighed.

"I don't mind having a nightmare;" the dwarf said dourly. "But I object to sharing it with a kender. How do you suppose we all came to have the same dream? And what does it mean?"

"A strange land- Silvanesti;" Laurana said. Taking her candle, she started to leave. Then she looked back. "Do you-do you think it was real? Did they die, as we saw?" Was Tanis with that human woman? she thought, but didn't ask aloud.

"We're here;" said Sturm. "We didn't die. We can only trust the others didn't either. And-" he paused-"this seems funny, but somehow I know they're all right:'

Laurana looked at the knight intently for a moment, saw his grave face calm after the initial shock and horror had worn off. She felt herself relax. Reaching out, she took Sturm's strong lean hand in her own and pressed it silently. Then she turned and left, slipping back into the starlit night.

The dwarf rose to his feet. "Well, so much for sleep. I'll take my turn at watch now:'

"I'll join you;" said Sturm, standing and buckling on his swordbelt.

"I suppose we'll never know;' Flint said, "why or how we all dreamed the same dream:"

"I suppose not;' Sturm agreed.

The dwarf walked out of the tent. Sturm started to follow, then stopped as his eyes caught a glimpse of light. Thinking perhaps that a bit of wick had fallen from Laurana's candle, he bent down to put it out, only to find instead that the jewel Alhana had given him had slipped from his belt and lay upon the ground. Picking it up, he noticed it was gleaming with its own inner light, something he'd never seen it do before.

"I suppose not;" Sturm repeated thoughtfully, turning the jewel over and over in his hand.

Morning dawned in Silvanesti for the first time in many long, horrifying months. But only one saw it. Lorac, watching from his bedchamber window, saw the sun rise above the glistening aspens. The others, worn out, slept soundly.

Alhana had not left her father's side all night. But exhaustion had overwhelmed her, and she fell asleep sitting in her chair. Lorac saw the pale sunlight light leer face. Her long black hair fell across her face like cracks in white marble. Her skin was torn by thorns, caked with dried blood. He saw beauty, but that beauty was marred by arrogance. She was the epitome of her people. Turning back, he looked outside into Silvanesti, but found no comfort there. A green, noxious mist still hung over Silvanesti, as though the ground itself was rotting.

"This is my doing;" he said to himself, his eyes lingering on the twisted, tortured trees, the pitiful misshapen beasts that roamed the land, seeking an end to their torment.

For over four hundred years, Lorac had lived in this land. He had watched it take shape and flower beneath his hands and the hands of his people.

There had been times of trouble, too. Lorac was one of the few still living on Krynn to remember the Cataclysm. But the Silvanesti elves had survived it far better than others in the world-being estranged from other races. They knew why the ancient gods left Krynn-they saw the evil in humankindalthough they could not explain why the elven clerics vanished as well.

The elves of Silvanesti heard, of course, via the winds and birds and other mysterious ways, of the sufferings of their cousins, the Qualinesti, following the Cataclysm. And, though grieved at the tales of rapine and murder, the Silvanesti asked themselves what could one expect, living among humans? They withdrew into their forest, renouncing the outside world and caring little that the outside world renounced them.

Thus Lorac had found it impossible to understand this new evil sweeping out of the north, threatening his homeland. Why should they bother the Silvanesti? He met with the Dragon Highlords, explaining to them that the Silvanesti would give them no trouble. The elves believed everyone had the right to live upon Krynn, each in his own unique fashion, evil and good. He talked and they listened and, at first, all seemed well. Then the day came when Lorac realized he had been deceived-the day the skies erupted with dragons.

The elves were not, after all, caught unprepared. Lorac had lived too long for that. Ships waited to take the people to safety. Lorac ordered them to depart under his daughter's command. Then, when he was alone, he descended to the chambers beneath the Tower of the Stars where he had secreted the dragon orb.

Only his daughter and the long-lost elven clerics knew of the orb's existence. All others in the world believed it destroyed in the Cataclysm. Lorac sat beside it, staring at it for long days. He recalled the warnings of the High Mages, bringing to mind everything he could remember about the orb. Finally, though fully aware that he had no idea how it worked, Lorac decided he had to use it to try and save his land.

He remembered the globe vividly, remembered it burning with a swirling, fascinating green light that pulsed and strengthened as he looked at it. And he remembered knowing, almost from the first seconds he had rested his fingers on the globe, that he had made a terrible mistake. He had neither the strength nor the control to command the magic. But by then, it was too late. The orb had captured him and held him enthralled, and it had been the most hideous part of his nightmare to be constantly reminded that he was dreaming, yet unable to break free.

And now the nightmare had become waking reality. Lorac bowed his head, tasting bitter tears in his mouth. Then he felt gentle hands upon his shoulders.

"Father, I cannot bear to see you weep. Come away from the window. Come to bed. The land will be beautiful once more in time. You will help to shape it-"

But Alhana could not look out the window without a shud

THE DRAGONS OF WINTER NIGHT

der. Lorac felt her tremble and he smiled sadly.

"Will our people return, Alhana?" He stared out into the green that was not the vibrant green of life but that of death and decay.

"Of course;' Alhana said quickly.

Lorac patted her hand. "A lie, my child? Since when have the elves lied to each other?"

"I think perhaps we may have always lied to ourselves;' Alhana murmured, recalling what she had learned of Goldmoon's teaching. "The ancient gods did not abandon Krynn, Father. A cleric of Mishakal the Healer traveled with us and told us of what she had learned. I-I did not want to believe, Father. I was jealous. She is a human, after all, and why should the gods come to the humans with this hope? But I see now, the gods are wise. They came to humans because we elves. would not accept them. Through our grief, living in this place of desolation, we will learn-as you and I have learned-that we can no longer live within the world and live apart from the world. The elves will work to rebuild not only this land, but all lands ravaged by the evil:'

Lorac listened. His eyes turned from the tortured landscape to his daughter's face, pale and radiant as the silver moon, and he reached out his hand to touch her.

"You will bring them back? Our people?"

"Yes, Father;" she promised, taking his cold, fleshless hand in her own and holding it fast. "We will work and toil. We will ask forgiveness of the gods. We will go out among the peoples of Krynn and-" Tears flooded her eyes and choked her voice, for she saw Lorac could no longer hear her. His eyes dimmed, and he began to sink back in the chair.

"I give myself to the land;' he whispered. "Bury my body in the soil, daughter. As my life brought this curse upon it, so, perhaps, my death will bring its blessing:'

Lorac's hand slipped from his daughter's grasp. His lifeless eyes stared out into the tormented land of Silvanesti. But the look of horror on his face faded away, leaving it filled with peace.

And Alhana could not grieve.

That night, the companions prepared to leave Silvanesti.

 

They were to travel under the cover of darkness for much of their journey north, since by now they knew the dragonarmies controlled the lands they must pass through. They had no maps to guide them. They feared trusting ancient maps anymore, after their experience with the landlocked seaport city Tarsis. But the only maps that could be found in Silvanesti dated back thousands of years. The companions decided to travel north from Silvanesti blindly, with some hope of discovering a seaport where they could find passage to Sancrist.

They traveled lightly, so they could travel swiftly. Besides, there was little to take; the elves had stripped their country bare of food and supplies when they left.

The mage took possession of the dragon orb-a charge no one disputed him. Tanis at first despaired of how they could carry the massive crystal with them-it was nearly two feet in diameter and extraordinarily heavy. But the evening before they left, Alhana came to Raistlin, a small sack in her hand.

"My father carried the orb in this sack. I always thought it odd, considering the orb's size, but he said the sack was given to him in the Tower of High Sorcery. Perhaps this will help you:'

The mage reached out his thin hand to grasp it eagerly.

"Jistrah tagopar Ast moirparann Kini," he murmured and watched in satisfaction as the nondescript bag began to glow with a pale pink light.

"Yes, it is enchanted;" he whispered. Then he lifted his gaze to Caramon. "Go and bring me the orb:"

Caramon's eyes opened wide in horror. "Not for any treasure in this world!" the big man said with an oath.

"Bring me the orb!" Raistlin ordered, staring angrily at his brother, who still shook his head.

"Oh, don't be a fool, Caramon!" Raistlin snapped in exasperation. "The orb cannot hurt those who do not attempt to use it. Believe me, my dear brother, you do not have the power to control a cockroach, let alone a dragon orb!"

"But it might trap me;' Caramon protested.

"Bah! It seeks those with-" Raistlin stopped suddenly.

"Yes?" Tanis said quietly. "Go on. Who does it seek?"

"People with intelligence;" Raistlin snarled. "Therefore I believe the members of this party are safe. Bring me the orb, Caramon, or perhaps you want to carry it yourself? Or you, Half-Elf? Or you, cleric of Mishakal?"

Caramon glanced uncomfortably at Tanis, and the half-elf realized that the big man was seeking his approval. It was an odd move for the twin, who had always done what Raistlin commanded without question.

Tanis saw that he wasn't the only one who noticed Caramon's mute appeal. Raistlin's eyes glittered in rage.

Now more than ever, Tanis felt wary of the mage, distrusting Raistlin's strange and growing power. It's illogical, he argued with himself. A reaction to a nightmare, nothing mare. But that didn't solve his problem. What should he do about the dragon orb? Actually, he realized ruefully, he had little choice.

"Raistlin's the only one with the knowledge and the skill and-let's face it-the guts to handle that thing;" Tanis said grudgingly. "I say he should take it, unless one of you wants the responsibility?"

No one spoke, though Riverwind shook his head, frowning darkly. Tanis knew the Plainsman would leave the orb-and Raistlin as well-here in Silvanesti if he had the choice.

"Go ahead, Caramon;' Tanis said. "You're the only one strong enough to lift it:"

Reluctantly, Caramon went to fetch the orb from its golden stand. His hands shook as he reached out to touch it, but, when he laid his hands upon it, nothing happened. The globe did not change in appearance. Sighing in relief, Caramon lifted the orb, grunting from the weight, and carried it back to his brother, who held the sack open.

"Drop it in the bag;' Raistlin ordered.

"What?" Caramon's jaw sagged as he stared from: the giant orb to the small bag in the mage's frail hands. "I can't, Raist! It won't fit in there! It'll smash!"

The big man fell silent as Raistlin's eyes flared golden in the dying light of day.

"No! Caramon, wait!" Tanis leaped forward, but this time Caramon did as Raistlin commanded. Slowly, his eyes :held fast by his brother's intense gaze, Caramon dropped the dragon orb.

The orb vanished!

"What? Where-" Tanis glared at Raistlin suspiciously.

"In the sack;' the mage replied calmly, holding forth the small bag. "See for yourself, if you do not trust me:'

Tanis peered into the bag. The orb was inside and it was the true dragon orb, all right. He had no doubt. He could see the swirling mist of green, as though some faint life stirred within. It must have shrunk, he thought in awe, but the orb appeared to be the same size as always, giving Tanis the fearful impression that it was he who had grown.

Shuddering, Tanis stepped back. Raistlin gave the drawstring on the top of the bag a quick jerk, snapping it shut. Then, glancing at them distrustfully, he slipped the bag within his robes, secreting it in one of his numerous hidden pockets, and began to turn away. But Tanis stopped him.

"Things can never again be the same between us, can they?" the half-elf asked quietly.

Raistlin looked at him for a moment, and Tanis saw a brief flicker of regret in the young mage's eyes, a longing for trust and friendship and a return to the days of youth.

"No;" Raistlin whispered. "But such was the price I paid:" He began to cough.

"Price? To whom? For what?"

"Do not question, Half-Elf:" The mage's thin shoulders bent with coughing. Caramon put his strong arm around his brother and Raistlin leaned weakly against his twin. When he recovered from the spasm, he lifted his golden eyes. "I cannot tell you the answer, Tanis, because I do not know it myself:'

Then, bowing his head, he let Caramon lead him away to  I

find what rest he could before their journey.

"I wish you would reconsider and let us assist you in the funeral rites for your father;" Tanis said to Alhana as she stood in the door of the Tower of the Stars to bid them farewell. "A day will not make a difference to us:"

"Yes, let us;' Goldmoon entreated earnestly. "I know much about this from our people, for our burial customs are similar to yours, if Tanis has told me correctly. I was priestess in my tribe, and I presided over the wrapping of the body in the spiced cloths that will preserve it-"

"No, my friends;" Alhana said firmly, her face pale. "It was my father's wish that I-I do this alone:"

I40

THE DRAGONS OF WINTER NIGHT

This was not quite true, but Alhana knew how shocked these people would be at the sight of her father's body being consigned to the ground-a custom practiced only by goblins and other evil creatures. The thought appalled her. Involuntarily her gaze was drawn to the tortured and twisted tree that was to mark his grave, standing over it like some fearful carrion bird. Quickly she looked away, her voice faltered.

"His tomb is-is long prepared and I have some experience of these things myself. Do not worry about me, please:'

Tanis saw the agony in her face, but he could not refuse to honor her request.

"We understand;' Goldmoon said. Then, on impulse, the Que-shu Plainswoman put her arms around the elven princess and held her as she might have held a lost and frightened child. Alhana stiffened at first, then relaxed in Goldmoon's compassionate embrace.

"Be at peace;' Goldmoon whispered, stroking back Alhana's dark hair from her face. Then the Plainswoman left.

"After you bury your father, what then?" Tanis asked as he and Alhana stood alone together on the steps of the Tower.

"I will return to my people;' Alhana replied gravely. "The griffons will come to me, now that the evil in this land is gone, and they will take me to Ergoth. We will do what we can to help defeat this evil, then we will come home:"

Tanis glanced around Silvanesti. Horrifying as it was in the daytime, its terrors at night were beyond description.

"I know;" Alhana said in answer to his unspoken thoughts. "This will be our penance."

Tanis raised his eyebrows skeptically, knowing the fight she had ahead of her to get her people to return. Then he saw the conviction on Alhana's face. He gave her even odds.

Smiling, he changed the subject. "And will you find time to go to Sancrist?" he asked. "The knights would be honored by your presence. Particularly one of them:'

Alhana's pale face flushed. "Perhaps;" she said, barely speaking above a whisper. "I cannot say yet. I have learned many things about myself. But it will take me a long lime to make these things a part of me:' She shook her head, sighing. "It may be I can never truly be comfortable with them:'

"Like learning to love a human?"

 Alhana lifted her head, her clear eyes looked into Tanis's.

"Would he be happy, Tanis? Away from his homeland, for I

must return to Silvanesti? And could I be happy, knowing that

I must watch him age and die while I am still in my youth?"

 "I asked myself these same questions, Alhana," Tanis said,

thinking with pain of the decision he had reached concerning

Kitiara. "If we deny love that is given to us, if we refuse to give

love because we fear the pain of loss, then our lives will be

empty, our loss greater:"

 I wondered, when first we met, why these people follow

you, Tanis Half-Elven," Alhana said softly. "Now I understand.

I will consider your words. Farewell, until your life's journey's

end:"

 "Farewell, Alhana;' Tanis answered, taking the hand she

extended to him. He could find nothing more to say, and so

turned and left her.

 But he could not help wondering, as he did, that if he was so

damn wise, why was his life in such a mess?

 Tanis joined the companions at the edge of the forest. For a

moment they stood there, reluctant to enter the woods of

Silvanesti. Although they knew the evil was gone, the thought f

of traveling for days among the twisted, tortured forest was a

somber one. But they had no choice. Already they felt the sense

of urgency that had driven them this far. Time was sifting

through the hourglass, and they knew they could not let the sands run out, although they had no idea why.

 "Come, my brother;' said Raistlin finally. The mage led the way into the woods, the Staff of Magius shedding its pale light as he walked. Caramon followed, with a sigh. One by one the others trailed after. Tanis alone turned to look back.  They would not see the moons tonight. The land was covered with a heavy darkness as if it too mourned Lorac's death.

Alhana stood in the doorway to the Tower of the Stars, her body framed by the Tower, which glimmered in the light of

moonrays captured ages ago. Only Alhana's face was visible in the shadows, like the ghost of the silver moon. Tanis caught a glimpse of movement. She raised her hand and there was a brief, clear flash of pure white light-the Starjewel. And then she was gone.

 

 

Book 2

 

 

 

The story of the companions' journey to Ice Wall Castle and their defeat of the evil Dragon Highlord, Feal-thas, became legend among the Ice Barbarians who inhabit that desolate land. It is still told by the village cleric on long winter nights when heroic deeds are remembered and songs are sung.

 

SONG OF THE ICE REAVER

I am the one who brought them back. I am Raggart I am telling you this. Snow upon snow cancels the signals of ice Over the snow the sun bleeds whiteness In cold light forever unbearable. And if I do not tell you this The snow descends on the deeds of heroes And their strength in my singing Lies down in a core of frost rising no more No more as the lost breath crumbles.

Seven they were from the hot lands (I am the one who brought them back) Four swordsmen sworn in the North The elf-woman Laurana The dwarf from the floes of stone The kender small-boned as a hawk. Riding three blades they came to the tunnel To the throat of the only castle.

Down among Thanoi the old guardians Where their swordsmen carved hot air Finding tendon finding bone As the tunnels melted red. Down upon minotaur upon ice bear And the swords whistled again Bright on the corner of madness The tunnel knee-high in arms In claws in unspeakable things As the swordsmen descended Bright steam freezing behind them.

Then to the chambers at the castle heart Where Feal-thas awaited lord of dragons and wolves Armored in white that is nothing That covers the ice as the sun bleeds whiteness. And he called on the wolves the baby-stealers Who suckled on murder in the lairs of ancestors. Around the heroes a circle of knives of craving As the wolves stalked in their master's eye.

And Aran the first to break the circle Hot wind at the throat of Feal-thas Brought down and unraveled In the reel of the hunt perfected. Brian the next when the sword of the wolf lord Sent him seeking the wane lands. All stood frozen in the wheel of razors All stood frozen except for Laurana. Blind in a hot light flashing the crown of the mind Where death melts in a diving sun She takes up the Ice Reaver And over the boil of wolves over the slaughter Bearing a blade of ice bearing darkness She opened the throat of the wolf lord And the wolves fell silent as the head collapsed.

The rest is short in the telling. Destroying the eggs the violent get of the dragons A tunnel of scales and ordure Followed into the terrible larder Followed further followed to treasure. There the orb danced blue danced white Swelled like a heart in its endless beating (They let me hold it I brought them back). Out from the tunnel blood on blood under the ice Bearing their own incredible burden The young knights silent and tattered They came five now only The kender last small pockets bulging. I am Raggart I am telling you this. I am the one who brought them back.

 

 

 The flight from Ice Hall.

 

The old dwarf lay dying.

His limbs would no longer support him. His bowels and stomach twisted together like snakes. Waves of nausea broke over him. He could not even raise his head from his bunk. He stared above him at an oil lamp swinging slowly overhead. The lamp's light seemed to be getting dimmer. This is it, thought the dwarf. The end. The darkness is creeping over my eyes ....

He heard a noise near him, a creaking of wooden planks as if someone were very quietly stealing up on him. Feebly, Flint managed to turn his head.

"Who is it?" he croaked.

"Tasslehoff," whispered a solicitous voice. Flint sighed and reached out a gnarled hand. Tas's hand closed over his own.

"Ah, lad. I'm glad you've come in time to say farewell;" said the dwarf weakly. "I'm dying, lad. I'm going to Reorx-'

"What?" asked Tas, leaning closer.

"Reorx;" repeated the dwarf irritably. "I'm going to the arms of Reorx:"

"No, we're not;' said Tas. "We're going to Sancrist. Unless you're mean an inn. I'll ask Sturm. The Reorx Arms. Hmmm-"

"Reorx, the God of the Dwarves, you doorknob!" Flint roared.

"Oh;" said Tas after a moment. "That Reorx:'

"Listen, lad;" Flint said more calmly, determined to leave no hard feelings behind. "I want you to have my helm. The one you brought me in Xak Tsaroth, with the griffon's mane:"

"Do you really?" Tas asked, impressed. "That's awfully nice of you, Flint, but what will you do for a helm?"

"Ah, lad, I won't need a helm where I'm going:'

"You might in Sancrist," Tas said dubiously. "Derek thinks the Dragon Highlords are preparing to launch a full-scaled attack, and I think a helm could come in handy-"

"I'm not talking about Sancrist!" Flint snarled, struggling to sit up. "I won't need a helm because I'm dying!"

"I nearly died once;" Tas said solemnly. Setting a steaming bowl on a table, he settled back comfortably in a chair to relate his story. "It was that time in Tarsis when the dragon knocked the building down on top of me. Elistan said I was nearly a goner. Actually those weren't his exact words, but he said it was only through the inter . . . interces . . . oh well, intersomething-or-other of the gods that I'm here today."

Flint gave a mighty groan and fell back limply on his bunk. "Is it too much to ask;' he said to the lamp swinging above his head, "that I be allowed to die in peace? Not surrounded by kenders!" This last was practically a shriek.

"Oh, come now. You're not dying, you know;' Tas said. "You're only seasick:'

"I'm dying;' the dwarf said stubbornly. "I've been infected with a serious disease and now I'm dying. And on your heads be it. You dragged me onto this confounded boat-"

"Ship;" interrupted Tas.

"Boat!" repeated Flint furiously. "You dragged me onto this confounded boat, then left me to perish of some terrible disease in a rat-infested bedroom-"

"We could have left you back in Ice Wall, you know, with the walrus-men and-" Tasslehoff stopped.

Flint was once again struggling to sit up, but this time there was a wild look in his eyes. The kender rose to his feet and began edging his way toward the door. "Uh, I guess I better be going. I just came down here to-uh-see if you wanted anything to eat. The ship's cook made something he calls green pea soup

Laurana, huddled out of the wind on the foredeck, started as she heard the most frightful roaring sound come from below decks, followed by the cracking of smashed crockery. She glanced at Sturm, who was standing near her. The knight smiled.

"Flint;" he said.

"Yes;' Laurana said, worried. "Perhaps I should-'

She was interrupted by the appearance of Tasslehoff dripping with green pea soup.

"I think Flint's feeling better;" Tasslehoff said solemnly. "But he's not quite ready to eat anything yet:'

The journey from Ice Wall had been swift. Their small ship fairly flew through the sea waters, carried north by the currents and the strong, cold prevailing winds.

The companions had traveled to Ice Wall where, according to Tasslehoff, a dragon orb was kept in Ice Wall Castle. They found the orb and defeated its evil guardian, Feal-thas-a powerful Dragonlord. Escaping the destruction of the castle with the help of the Ice Barbarians, they were now on a ship bound for Sancrist. Although the precious dragon orb was stowed safely in a chest below decks, the horrors of their journey to Ice Wall still tormented their dreams at night.

But the nightmares of Ice Wall were nothing compared to that strange and vivid dream they had experienced well over a month ago. None of them referred to it, but Laurana occasionally saw a look of fear and loneliness-unusual to Sturm-that made her think he might be recalling the dream as well.

Other than that the party was in good spirits-except the dwarf, who had been hauled on the ship bodily and was promptly seasick. The journey to Ice Wall had been an undoubted victory. Along with the dragon orb, they carried away with them the broken shaft of an ancient weapon, believed to be a dragonlance. And they carried something more important, though they did not realize it at the time they found

The companions, accompanied by Derek Crownguard and the other two young knights who had joined them at Tarsis, had been searching Ice Wall castle for the dragon orb. The search had not gone well. Time and again they had fought off the evil walrus-men, winter wolves, and bears. The companions began to think they may have come here for nothing, but Tas swore that the book he read in Tarsis said there was an orb located here. So they kept looking.

It was during their search that they came upon a startling sight-a huge dragon, over forty feet long, its skin a shimmering silver, completely encased in a wall of ice. The dragon's wings were spread, poised for flight. The dragon's expression was fierce, but his head was noble, and he did not inspire them with the fear and loathing they remembered experiencing around the red dragons. Instead, they felt a great, overwhelming sorrow for this magnificent creature.

But strangest to them was the fact that this dragon had a rider! They had seen the Dragon Highlords ride their dragons, but this man appeared by his ancient armor to have been a Knight of Solamnia! Held tightly in his gloved hand was the broken shaft of what must have been a large lance.

"Why would a Knight of Solamnia be riding a dragon?" Laurana asked, thinking of the Dragon Highlords.

"There have been knights who turned to evil." Lord Derek Crownguard said harshly. "Though it shames me to admit it:"

"I get no feeling of evil here;' Elistan said. "Only a great sorrow. I wonder how they died. I see no wounds-"

"This seems familiar;" Tasslehoff interrupted, frowning. "Like a picture. A knight riding a silver dragon. I've seen-"

"Bah!" Flint snorted. "You've seen furry elephants-"

"I'm serious;" Tas protested.

"Where was it, Tas?" Laurana asked gently, seeing a hurt expression on the kender's face. "Can you remember?"

"I think . . :' Tasslehoff's eyes lost their focus. "It puts me in mind of Pax Tharkas and Fizban. . . :'

"Fizban!" Flint exploded. "That old mage was crazier than Raistlin, if that's possible:"

"I don't know what Tas is talking about;" Sturm said, gazing up at the dragon and its rider thoughtfully. "But I remember my mother telling me that Huma rode upon a Silver Dragon, carrying the Dragonlance, in his final battle:'

"And I remember my mother telling me to leave sweetcakes for the white-robed Old One who came to our castle at Yuletime;' scoffed Derek. "No, this is undoubtedly some renegade Knight, enslaved by evil:'

Derek and the other two young knights turned to go, but the rest lingered, staring up at the figure on the dragon.

"You're right, Sturm. That's a dragonlance;" Tas said wistfully. "I don't know how I know, but I'm sure of it:"

"Did you see it in the book in Tarsis?" Sturm asked, exchanging glances with Laurana, each of them thinking that the kender's seriousness was unusual, even frightening.

Tas shrugged. "I don't know;' he said in a small voice. "I'm sorry:"

"Maybe we should take it with us;' Laurana suggested uneasily. "It couldn't hurt:"

"Come along, Brightblade!" Derek's voice came back to them, echoing sternly. "The Thanoi may have lost us for the moment, but they'll discover our trail before long:'

"How can we get it?" Sturm asked, ignoring Derek's order. "It's encased in ice at least three feet thick!"

"I can;' Gilthanas said.

Jumping up onto the huge cliff of ice that had formed around the dragon and its rider, the elf found a handhold and began to inch his way up the monument. From the dragon's frozen wing, he was able to crawl along on his hands and knees until he came to the lance, clutched in the rider's hand. Gilthanas pressed his hand against the ice wall covering the lance and spoke the strange, spidery language of magic.

A red glow spread from the elf's hand to the ice, melting it away rapidly. Within moments, he was able to reach his hand through the hole to grasp the lance. But it was held fast in the dead knight's hand.

Gilthanas tugged and even tried to pry the frozen fingers of the hand loose. Finally he could stand the cold of the ice no longer and dropped, shivering, back down to the ground. "There's no way;" he said. "He's got it gripped tight:'

"Break the fingers-" suggested Tas helpfully.

Sturm silenced the kender with a furious look. "I wilt not have his body desecrated;" he snapped. "Maybe we can slide the lance out of his hand. I'll try-"

"No good;' Gilthanas told his sister as they watched Sturm climb up the side of the ice. "It's as if the lance has become part of the hand. I-" The elf stopped.

As Sturm put his hand through the hole in the ice and kook hold of the lance, the icebound figure of the knight seemed to move suddenly, just slightly. Its stiff and frozen hand relaxed its grip on the shattered lance. Sturm nearly fell in his amazement, and, letting go of the weapon hurriedly, he backed away along the dragon's ice-coated wing.

"He's giving it to you;' cried Laurana. "Go ahead, Sturm! Take it! Don't you see-he's giving it to another knight:"

"Which I'm not;' Sturm said bitterly. "But perhaps that's indicative, perhaps it is evil-" Hesitantly, he slid back to the hole and grasped the lance once more. The stiff hand of the dead knight released its grip. Taking hold of the broken weapon, Sturm carefully brought it out of the ice. He jumped back to the ground and stood staring at the ancient shaft.

"That was wonderful!" Tas said in awe. "Flint, did you see the corpse come alive?"

"No!" snapped the dwarf. "And neither did you. Let's get out of here;' he added, shivering.

Then Derek appeared. "I gave you an order, Sturm Brightblade! What's the delay?" Derek's face darkened wrath anger as he saw the lance.

"I asked him to get it for me;" Laurana said, her voice as cool as the wall of ice behind her. Taking the lance, she began to wrap it swiftly in a fur cloak from her pack.

Derek regarded her angrily for a moment, then bowed stiffly and turned on his heel.

 

 "Dead knights, live knights, I don't know who's worse;' Flint grumbled, grabbing Tas and dragging him along after Derek.

 "What if it is a weapon of evil?" Sturm asked Laurana in a low voice as they traveled the icy corridors of the castle.

 Laurana looked back one final time at the dead knight mounted on the dragon. The cold pale sun of the southland was

setting, its light casting watery shadows across the corpses, giving them a sinister aspect. Even as she watched, she thought she saw the body slump lifelessly.

 "Do you believe the story of Huma?" Laurana asked softly.

 "I don't know what to believe anymore;" Sturm said, bitterness hardening his voice. "Everything used to be black and a white for me, all things clear-cut and well-defined. I believed in the story of Huma. My mother taught it to me as the truth. Then I went to Solamnia:' He paused, as if unwilling to continue. Finally, seeing Laurana's face filled with interest and compassion, he swallowed and went on. "I never told anyone this, not even Tanis. When I returned to my homeland, I found that the Knighthood was not the order of honorable, self sacrificing men my mother had described. It was rife with political intrigue. The best of the men were like Derek, honorable, but strict and unbending, with little use for those they consider beneath them. The worst-" He shook his head. "When I spoke of Huma, they laughed. An itinerant knight, they called him. According to their story, he was cast out of the order for dis

 obeying its laws. Huma roamed the countryside, they said, endearing himself to peasants, who thus began to create leg

ends about him:"

 "But did he really exist?" Laurana persisted, saddened by the sorrow in Sturm's face.

 "Oh, yes. Of that there can be no doubt. The records that survived the Cataclysm list his name among the lower orders of the knights. But the story of the Silver Dragon, the Final Battle, even the Dragonlance itself-no one believes anymore. Like Derek says, there is no proof. The tomb of Huma, according to the legend, was a towering structure-one of the wonders of the world. But you can find no one who has ever seen it. All we have are children's stories, as Raistlin would say:" Sturm put his hand to his face, covering his eyes, and gave a deep, shuddering sigh.

"Do you know;' he said softly, "I never thought I'd say it, but I miss Raistlin. I miss all of them. I feel as if a part of me's been cut off, and that's how I felt when I was in Solamnia. That's why I came back, instead of waiting and completing the tests for my knighthood. These people-my friends-were doing more to combat evil in the world than all the Knights lined up in a row. Even Raistlin, in some way I can't understand. He could tell us what all this means:" He jerked his thumb back at the ice-encased knight. "At least he would believe in it. If he were here. If Tanis were here-" Sturm could not go on.

"Yes;' Laurana said quietly. "If Tanis were here-"

Remembering her great sorrow, so much greater than his own, Sturm put his arm around Laurana and held her close. The two stood for a moment, each comforted for their losses by the other's presence. Then Derek's voice came sharply back to them, reprimanding them for lagging behind.

And now, the broken lance, wrapped in Laurana's fur cloak, lay in the chest with the dragon orb and Wyrmslayer, Tanis's sword, which Laurana and Sturm had carried with them from Tarsis. Beside the chest lay the bodies of the two young knights, who had given their lives in defense of the group, and who were being carried back to be buried in their homeland.

The strong southern wind, blowing swift and cold from the glaciers, propelled the ship across the Sirrion Sea. The captain said that, if the winds held, they might make Sancrist in two days.

"That way lies Southern Ergoth." The captain told Elistan, pointing off to starboard. "We'll be just coming up on the south end of it. This nightfall, you'll see the Isle of Cristyne. There, with a fair wind, we'll be in Sancrist. Strange thing about Southern Ergoth," the captain added, glancing at Laurana, "it's filled with elves, they say, though I haven't been there to know if that's true:'

"Elves!" said Laurana eagerly, coming forward to stand beside the captain, the early morning wind whipping her cloak.

"Fled their homeland, so I heard;' the captain continued. "Driven off by the dragonarmies:"

"Perhaps it's our people!" Laurana said, clutching at Gilthanas, who stood next to her. She gazed out over the born of

the ship intently, as if she could will the land to appear.

"Most likely the Silvanesti," Gilthanas said. "In fact, I think Lady Alhana may have mentioned something about Ergoth. Do you remember, Sturm?"

"No;' the knight answered abruptly. Turning and walking over to the port side of the ship, he leaned against the railing, staring out across the pink-tinged sea. Laurana saw him pull something from his belt and run his fingers over it lovingly. There was a bright flash, as it caught the sun's rays, then he slipped it back into his belt. His head bowed. Laurana started to go to him when suddenly she stopped, catching a glimpse of movement.

"What kind of strange cloud is that to the south?"

The captain turned immediately, whipping his spyglass out of the pocket of his fur parka and placing it to his eye. "Send a man aloft;' he snapped to his first mate.

Within moments, a sailor was scampering up the rigging. Clinging to the dizzying heights of the mast with one arm, he peered south through the spyglass.

"Can you make it out?" the captain called aloft.

"No, capt'n;" the man bellowed. "If it's a cloud, it's like none I've seen afore."

"I'll look!" volunteered Tasslehoff eagerly. The kender began to climb the ropes as skillfully as the sailor. Reaching the mast, he clung to the rigging near the man and stared south.

It certainly seemed to be a cloud. It was huge and white and appeared to be floating above the water. But it was moving much more rapidly than any other cloud in the sky and

Tasslehoff gasped. "Let me borrow that;' he asked, holding out his hand for the watch's spyglass. Reluctantly, the man gave it to him. Tas put it to his eye, then he groaned softly. "Oh, dear;" he muttered. Lowering the spyglass, he shut it up with a snap and absently stuffed it into his tunic. The sailor caught him by the collar as he was about to slide down.

"What?" Tas said, startled. "Oh! Is that yours? Sorry." Giving the spyglass a wistful pat, he handed it back to the sailor. Tas slid skillfully down the ropes, landed lightly on the deck, and came running over to Sturm.

"It's a dragon;" he reported breathlessly.

 

 

The White Dragon. Captured!

 

 

The dragon's nave was Sleet. She was a white dragon, a species of dragon smaller than other

dragons dwelling in Krynn. Born and bred in the arctic regions, these dragons were able to withstand extreme cold, and controlled the ice-bound southern regions of Ansalon.

Because of their smaller size, the white dragons were the swiftest flyers of all dragonkind. The Dragon Highlords often

used them for scouting missions. Thus Sleet had been away from her lair in Ice Wall when the companions, entered it in search of the dragon orb. The Dark Queen had received a report that Silvanesti had been invaded by a group of adventurers. They had managed-somehow-to defeat Cyan Bloodbane and were reportedly in possession of a dragon orb.

The Dark Queen guessed they might be traveling across the Plains of Dust, along the Kings Road, which was the most direct overland route to Sancrist where the Knights of Solamnia were reportedly trying to regroup. The Dark Queen ordered Sleet and her flight of white dragons to speed north to the Plains of Dust, now lying under a thick, heavy blanket of packed snow, to find the orb.

Seeing the snow glistening beneath her, Sleet doubted very much if even humans would be foolhardy enough to attempt to cross the wasteland. But she had her orders and she followed them. Scattering her flight, Sleet scoured every inch of land from the borders of Silvanesti on the east to the Kharolis Mountains on the west. A few of her dragons even flew as far north as New Coast, which was held by the blues.

The dragons met to report that they had seen no sign of any living being on the Plains when Sleet received word that danger had marched in the back door while she was out scouting the front.

Furious, Sleet flew back but arrived too late. Feal-thas was dead, the dragon orb missing. But her walrus-men allies, the Thanoi, were able to describe the group who had committed this heinous act. They even pointed out the direction their ship had sailed, although there was only one direction any ship could sail from Ice Wall-north.

Sleet reported the loss of the dragon orb to her Dark Queen, who was intensely angry and frightened. Now there were two orbs missing! Although secure in the knowledge that her force for evil was the strongest in Krynn, the Dark Queen knew with a nagging certainty that the forces of good still walked the land. One of these might prove strong and wise enough to figure out the secret of the orb.

Sleet, therefore, was ordered to find the orb and bring it not back to Ice Wall, but to the Queen herself. Under no circumstances was the dragon to lose it or allow it to be lost. The orbs were intelligent and imbued with a strong sense of survival. Thus they had lived this long when even those who created them were dead.

Sleet sped out over the Sirrion Sea, her strong white wings soon carrying her swiftly to within sight of the ship. But now Sleet was presented with an interesting intellectual problem, and she was not prepared to handle it.

Perhaps because of the inbreeding necessary to create a reptile that can tolerate cold weather, white dragons are the lowest in intelligence among dragonkind. Sleet had never needed to think much on her own. Feal-thas always told her what to do. Consequently, she was considerably perplexed over her current problem as she circled the ship: how could she get the orb?

At first she had just planned to freeze the ship with her icy breath. Then she realized this would simply enclose the orb in a frozen block of wood, making it extremely difficult to remove. There was also every probability the ship would sink before she could tear it apart. And if she did manage to take the ship apart, the orb might sink. The ship was too heavy to lift in her claws and fly to land. Sleet circled the ship and pondered, while down below she could see the pitiful humans racing around like scared mice.

The white dragon considered sending another telepathic message to her Queen, asking for help. But Sleet hesitated to remind the vengeful queen of either her presence or her ignorance. The dragon followed the ship all day, hanging just above it, pondering. Floating easily on the wind currents, she let her dragonfear stir the humans into a frenzy of panic. Then, just as the sun was setting, Sleet had an idea. Without stopping to think, she acted upon it at once.

Tasslehoff's report of the white dragon following the vessel sent waves of terror through the crew. They armed themselves with cutlasses and grimly prepared to fight the beast as. long as they could, though all knew how such a contest must end. Gilthanas and Laurana, both skillful archers, fit arrows to their bows. Sturm and Derek held shield and sword. Tasslehoff grabbed his hoopak. Flint tried to get out of bed, but he couldn't even stand up. Elistan was calm, praying to Paladine.

"I have more faith in my sword than that old man and his god;' Derek said to Sturm.

"The Knights have always honored Paladine;" Sturm said in rebuke.

" I honor him-his memory;' Derek said. " I find this talk of Paladine's 'return' disturbing, Brightblade. And so will the Council, when they hear of it. You would do well to consider that when the question of your knighthood arises:'

Sturm bit his lip, swallowing his angry retort like bitter medicine.

Long minutes passed. Everyone's eyes were on the whitewinged creature flying above them. But they could do nothing, and so they waited.

And waited. And waited. The dragon did not attack.

She circled above them endlessly, her shadow crossing and crisscrossing the deck with monotonous, chilling regularity. The sailors, who had been prepared to fight without question, soon began to mutter among themselves as the waiting grew unbearable. To make matters worse, the dragon seemed to be sucking up the wind, for the sails fluttered and drooped lifelessly. The ship lost its graceful forward momentum and began to flounder in the water. Storm clouds gathered on the northern horizon and slowly drifted over the water, casting a pall across the bright sea.

Laurana finally lowered her bow and rubbed her aching back and shoulder muscles. Her eyes, dazzled from staring into the sun, were blurred and watery.

"Put 'em in a lifeboat and cast 'em adrift;' she overheard one old grizzled sailor suggest to a companion in a voice meant to carry. "Perhaps yon great beast will let us go. It's them she's after, not us:'

It's not even us she's after, Laurana thought uneasily. It's probably the dragon orb. That's why she hasn't attacked. But Laurana couldn't tell this, even to the captain. The dragon orb must be kept secret.

The afternoon crept on, and still the dragon circled like a horrible seabird. The captain was growing more and more irritable. Not only did he have a dragon to contend with, but the likelihood of mutiny as well. Near dinnertime, he ordered the companions below decks.

Derek and Sturm both refused, and it appeared things might get out of hand when, "Land ho, off the starboard bow!"

"Southern Ergoth;' the captain said grimly. "The current's carrying us toward the rocks." He glanced up at the circling dragon. "If a wind doesn't come soon, we'll smash up on them:' At that moment, the dragon quit circling. She hovered a moment, then soared upwards. The sailors cheered, thinking she was flying away. But Laurana knew better, remembering Tarsis.

"She's going to dive!" she cried. "She's going to attack!"

"Get below!" Sturm shouted, and the sailors, after ogle hesitant look skyward, began to scramble for the hatches. The captain ran to the wheel.

"Get below;" he ordered the helmsman, taking over.

"You can't stay up here!" Sturm shouted. Leaving the hatch, he ran back to the captain. "She'll kill you!"

"We'll founder if I don't;" the captain cried angrily.

"We'll founder if you're dead!" Sturm said. Clenching his fist, he hit the captain in the jaw and dragged him below.

Laurana stumbled down the stairs with Gilthanas behind her. The elflord waited until Sturm brought the unconscious captain down, then he pulled the hatch cover shut.

At that moment, the dragon hit the ship with a blast that nearly sent the vessel under. The ship listed precariously. Everyone, even the most hardened sailor, lost his feet and went skidding into each other in the crowded quarters below deck. Flint rolled onto the floor with a curse.

"Now's the time to pray to your god;" Derek said to Elistan.

"I am;' Elistan replied coolly, helping the dwarf up.

Laurana, clinging to a post, waited fearfully for the flaring orange light, the heat, the flames. Instead, there was a sudden sharp and biting cold that took her breath away and chilled her blood. She could hear, above her, rigging snap and crack, the flapping of the sails cease. Then, as she stared upwards, she saw white frost begin to sift down between the cracks in the wooden deck.

"The white dragons don't breathe flame!" Laurana said in awe. "They breathe ice! Elistan! Your prayers were answer-ed!"

"Bah! It might as well be flame;" the captain said, shaking his head and rubbing his jaw. "Ice'll freeze us up solid:'

"A dragon breathing ice!" Tas said wistfully. "I wish I could see!"

"What will happen?" Laurana asked, as the ship slowly righted itself, creaking and groaning.

"We're helpless;' the captain snarled. "The riggin'll snap beneath the weight of the ice, dragging the sails down. The mast'll break like a tree in an ice storm. With no steerage, the current will smash her up on the rocks, and that'll be an end of her. There's not a damn thing we can do!"

"We could try to shoot her as she flies past;" Gilthanas said. But Sturm shook his head, pushing on the hatch.

"There must be a foot of ice on top of this;' the knight reported. "We're sealed in:'

This is how the dragon will get the orb, Laurana thought miserably. She'll drive the ship aground, kill us, then recover the orb where there's no danger of it sinking into the ocean.

"Another blast like that will send us to the bottom;' the captain predicted, but there was not another blast like the first. The next blast was more gentle, and all of them realized the dragon was using her breath to blow them to shore.

It was an excellent plan, and one of which Sleet was rather proud. She skimmed after the ship, letting the current and the tide carry it to shore, giving it a little puff now and then. It was only when she saw the jagged rocks sticking up out of the moonlit water that the dragon suddenly saw the flaw in her scheme. Then the moon's light was gone, swept away by the storm clouds, and the dragon could see nothing. It was darker than her Queen's soul.

The dragon cursed the storm clouds, so well suited to the purposes of the Dragon Highlords in the north. But the clouds worked against her as they blotted out the two moons. Sleet could hear the rending and cracking sounds of splintering wood as the ship struck the rocks. She could even hear the cries and shouts of the sailors-but she couldn't see! Diving low over the water, she hoped to encase the miserable creatures in ice until daylight. Then she heard another, more frightening sound in the darkness-the twanging of bow strings.

An arrow whistled past her head. Another tore through the fragile membrane of her wing. Shrieking in pain, Sleet pulled up from her steep dive. There must be elves down there, she realized in a fury! More arrows zinged past her. Cursed, nightseeing elves! With their elvensight, they would find her an easy target, especially crippled in one wing.

Feeling her strength ebb, the dragon decided to return to Ice Wall. She was tired from flying all day, and the arrow wound hurt abominably. True, she would have to report another failure to the Dark Queen, but-as she came to think of it-it wasn't such a failure after all. She had kept the dragon orb from reaching Sancrist, and she had demolished the ship. She knew the location of the orb. The Queen, with her vast network of spies on Ergoth, could easily recover it.

Mollified, the white dragon fluttered south, traveling slowly. By morning she had reached her vast glacier home. Following her report, which was moderately well-received, Sleet was able to slip into her cavern of ice and nurse her injured wing back to health.

"She's gone!" said Gilthanas in astonishment.

"Of course;" said Derek wearily as he helped salvage what supplies they could from wrecked ship. "Her vision cannot match your elfsight. Besides, you hit her once:'

"Laurana's shot, not mine;' Gilthanas said, smiling at his sister, who stood on shore, her bow in her hand.

Derek sniffed doubtfully. Carefully setting down the box he carried, the knight started back out into the water. A figure looming out of the darkness stopped him.

"No use, Derek;" Sturm said. "The ship sank:"

Sturm carried Flint on his back. Seeing Sturm stagger with weariness, Laurana ran back into the water to help him. Between them, they got the dwarf to shore and stretched him on the sand. Out to sea, the sounds of cracking timber had ceased, replaced now by the endless breaking of the waves.

Then there was a splashing sound. Tasslehoff waded ashore after them, his teeth chattering, but his grin as wide as ever. He was followed by the captain, being helped by Elistan.

"What about the bodies of my men?" Derek demanded the moment he saw the captain. "Where are they?"

"We had more important things to carry" Elistan said sternly. "Things needed for the living, such as food and weapons."

"Many another good man has found his final hoarse beneath the waves. Yours won't be the first-nor the last-! suppose, mores the pity," the captain added.

Derek seemed about to speak, but the captain, grief and exhaustion in his eyes, said, "I've left six of my own men there this night, sir. Unlike yours, they were alive when we started this voyage. To say nothing of the fact that my ship and my livelihood lies down there, too. I wouldn't consider adding anything further, if you take my meaning. Sir:'

"I am sorry for your loss, captain;' Derek answered stiffly. "And I commend you and your crew for all you tried to do:"

The captain muttered something and stood looking aimlessly around the beach, as if lost.

"We sent your men north along the shore, captain;" Laurana said, pointing. "There's shelter there, within those trees:"

As if to verify her words, a bright light flared, the light of a huge bonfire.

"Fools!" Derek swore bitterly. "They'll have the dragon back on us:'

"It's either that or catch our deaths of cold;" the captain said bitterly over his shoulder. "Take your choice, sir knight. It matters little to me:" He disappeared into the darkness.

Sturm stretched and groaned, trying to ease chilled, cramped muscles. Flint lay huddled in misery, shaking so the buckles on his armor jangled. Laurana, leaning down to tuck her cloak around him, realized suddenly how cold she was.

In the excitement of trying to escape the ship and fighting the dragon, she had forgotten the chill. She couldn't even remember, in fact, any details of her escape. She remembered reaching the beach, seeing the dragon diving on them. She remembered fumbling for her bow with numb, shaking fingers. She wondered how anyone had presence of mind to save anything

"The dragon orb!" she said fearfully.

"Here, in this chest;' Derek answered. "Along with the lance and that elvish sword you call Wyrmslayer. And now, I suppose, we should take advantage of the fire-"

"I think not:" A strange voice spoke out of the darkness as lighted torches flared around them, blinding them.

The companions started and immediately drew their weapons, gathering around the helpless dwarf. But Laurana, after an instant's fright, peered into the faces in the torchlight.

"Hold!" she cried. "These are our people! These are elves!"

"Silvanesti!" Gilthanas said heartily. Dropping his bow to the ground, he walked forward toward the elf who had spoken.

"We have journeyed long through darkness;' he said in elven, his hands outstretched. "Well met, my broth-"

He never finished his ancient greeting. The leader of the elven party stepped forward and slammed the end of his staff across Gilthanas's face, knocking him to the sand, unconscious.

Sturm and Derek immediately raised their swords, standing back to back. Steel flashed among the elves.

"Stop!" Laurana shouted in elven. Kneeling by her brother, she threw back the hood of her cloak so that the light fell upon her face. "We are your cousins. Qualinesti! These humans are Knights of Solamnia!"

"We know well enough who you are!" The elven leader spit the words, "Qualinesti spies! And we do not find it unusual that you travel in the company of humans. Your blood has long been polluted. Take them;' he said, motioning to his men. "If they don't come peacefully, do what you must. And find out what they mean by this dragon orb they mentioned."'

The elves stepped forward.

"No!" Derek cried, jumping to stand before the chest. "Sturm, they must not have the orb!"

Sturm had already given the Knight's salute to an enemy and was advancing, sword drawn.

"It appears they will fight. So be it;" the leader of the elves said, raising his weapon.

"I tell you, this is madness I" Laurana cried angrily,. She threw herself between the flashing swordblades. The elves halted uncertainly. Sturm grabbed hold of her to drag her back, but she jerked free of his restraining hand.

"Goblins and draconians, in all their hideous evil, do not sink to fighting among themselves"-her voice shook with rage-"while we elves, the ancient embodiment of good, try to kill each other! Look!" She lifted the lid of the chest with one hand and threw it open. "In here we have the hope of the world A dragon orb, taken at great peril from Ice Wall. Our ship lies wrecked in the waters out there. We drove away the dragon that sought to recover this orb. And, after all ibis, we find our greatest peril among our own people! If this is true, if we have sunk so low, then kill us now, and I swear, not one person in this group will try to stop you:'

Sturm, not understanding elven, watched for a moment, then saw the elves lower their weapons. "Well, whatever she said, it seems to have worked:' Reluctantly, he sheathed his weapon. Derek, after a moment's hesitation, lowered his sword, but he did not put it back in its scabbard.

"We will consider your story;" the elven leader began, speaking haltingly in Common. Then he stopped as shouts and cries were heard from down the beach. The companions saw dark shadows converge on the campfire. The elf glanced that direction, waited a moment until all had quieted, then turned back to the group. He looked particularly at Laurana, who was bending over her brother. "We may have acted in haste, but when you have lived here long, you will come to understand:"

"I will never understand this!" Laurana said, tears choking her voice.

An elf appeared out of the darkness. "Humans, sir:' Laurana heard him report in elven. "Sailors by their appearance. They say their ship was attacked by a dragon and wrecked on the rocks:"

"Verification?"

"We found bits of wreckage floating ashore. We can search in the morning. The humans are wet and miserable and halfdrowned. They offered no resistance. I don't think they've lied:'

The elven leader turned to Laurana. "Your story appears to be true;" he said, speaking once more in Common. "My men report that the humans they captured are sailors. Do not worry about them. We will take them prisoner, of course. We cannot have humans wandering around this island with all our other problems. But we will care for them well. We are not goblins;' he added bitterly. "I regret striking your friend-"

"Brother;' Laurana replied. "And younger son of the Speaker of the Suns. I am Lauralanthalasa, and this is Gilthanas. We are of the royal house of Qualinesti:"

It seemed to her that the elf paled at this news, but he regained his composure immediately. "Your brother will be well tended. I will send for a healer-"

"We do not need your healer!" Laurana said. "This man"she gestured toward Elistan-"is a cleric of Paladine. He will aid my brother-'

"A human?" the elf asked sternly.

"Yes, human'' Laurana cried impatiently. "Elves struck my brother down! I turn to humans to heal him. Elistan-"

The cleric started forward, but, at a sign from their leader, several elves quickly grabbed him and pinned his arms behind him. Sturm started to go to his aid, but Elistan stopped him with a look, glancing at Laurana meaningfully. Sturm fell back, understanding Elistan's silent warning. Their lives depended on her.

"Let him go!" Laurana demanded. "Let him treat my brother!"

"I find this news of a cleric of Paladine impossible to believe, Lady Laurana," the elf leader said. "All know the clerics vanished from Krynn when the gods turned their faces from us. I do not know who this charlatan is, or how he has tricked you into believing him, but we will not allow him to lay his human hands upon an elf!"

"Even an elf who is an enemy?" she cried furiously.

"Even if the elf had killed my own father;" the elf said grimly. "And now, Lady Laurana, I must speak to you privately and try to explain what is transpiring on Southern Ergoth:"

Seeing Laurana hesitate, Elistan spoke, "Go on, my dear. You are the only one who can save us now. I will stay near Gilthanas:'

"Very well;" Laurana said, rising to her feet. Her face pale, she walked apart with the elven leader.

"I don't like this;' Derek said, scowling. "She told them of the dragon orb, which she should not have done:"

"They heard us talking about it;" Sturm said wearily.

"Yes, but she told them where it was! I don't trust her - or her people. Who knows what kind of deals they are making?" Derek added.

"That does it!" grated a voice.

Both men turned in astonishment to see Flint staggering to his feet. His teeth still chattered, but a cold light glinted in his eyes as he looked at Derek. "I-I've had a-about enough of yyou, S-Sir High and M-Mighty:" The dwarf gritted. his teeth to stop shivering long enough to speak.

Sturm started to intervene, but the dwarf shooed him aside to confront Derek. It was a ludicrous sight, and one Sturm

often remembered with a smile, storing it up to share with Tanis. The dwarf, his long white beard wet and scraggly, water dripping from his clothes to form puddles at his feet, stood nearly level with Derek's belt buckle, scolding the tall, proud Solamnic knight as he might have scolded Tasslehoff.

"You knights have lived encased in metal so long it's shaken your brains to mush!" The dwarf snorted. "If you ever had any brains to begin with, which I doubt. I've seen that girl grow from a wee bit of a thing to the beautiful woman she is now. And I tell you there isn't a more courageous, nobler person on Krynn. What's got you is that she just saved your hide. And you can't handle that!"

Derek's face flushed dark in the torchlight.

"I need neither dwarves nor elves defending me-" Derek began angrily when Laurana came running back, her eyes glittering.

"As if there is not evil enough;' she muttered through tight lips, "I find it brewing among my own kindred!"

"What's going on?" asked Sturm.

"The situation stands thus: There are now three races of elves living in Southern Ergoth-"

"Three races?" interrupted Tasslehoff, staring at Laurana with interest. "What's the third race? Where'd they come from? Can I see them? I never heard-"

Laurana had had enough. "Tas," she said, her voice taut. "Go stay with Gilthanas. And ask Elistan to come here:"