"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.