"I'll be with you presently, Elistan;" Laurana said, flushing. "I-I want to speak a moment with Tanis.'
Elistan gave them both an appraising, understanding look, then walked through the darkened gateway with Sturm. Tanis began dousing the torches, preparatory- to the closing of the gate. Laurana stood near the entrance, .her expression growing cold as it became obvious Tanis was ignoring her.
"What is the matter with you?" she said finally. "It almost sounds as if you are taking that Clark-sauled mage's part against Elistan, one of the best and wisest humans I have ever met!"
"Don't judge Raistlin, Laurana;' Tanis said harshly, thrusting a torch into a bucket of water, The light vanished with a hiss
"Things aren't always black and white, as you elves are inclined to believe. The mage has saved our lives more than once. I have come to rely upon his thinking-which, I admit, I find easier to rely on than blind faith!"
"You elves!" Laurana cried. "How typically human that sounds! There is more elven in you than you care to admit, Tanthalas! You used to say you didn't wear the beard to hide your heritage, and I believed you. But -now I'm not so certain. I've lived around humans long enough to know how they feel about elves! But I'm proud of my heritage. You're not! You're ashamed of it. Why? Because of that human woman you're in love with! What's her name, Kitiara?"
"Stop it, Laurana!" Tanis shouted. Hurling down a torch to the ground, he strode to the elven maiden standing in the doorway. "If you want to discuss relationships, what about you and Elistan? He may be a cleric of Paladine, but he's a man-a fact to which you can, no doubt, testify! All I hear from you;" he mimicked her voice, " is 'Elistan is so wise; 'Ask Elistan, he'll know what to do; 'Listen to Elistan, Tanis-' "
"How dare you accuse me of your own failings?" Laurana returned. "I love Elistan. I reverence him. He is the wisest man I have known, and the gentlest. He is self-sacrificing-his entire life is wrapped up in serving others. But there is only one man I love, only one man I have ever loved-though now I am beginning to ask myself if perhaps I haven't made a mistake! You said, in that awful place, the Sla-Mori, that I was behaving like a little girl and I had better grow up. Well, I have grown, Tanis Half-Elven. In these past few bitter months, I have seen suffering and death. I have been afraid as I never knew fear existed! I have learned to fight, and I have dealt death to my enemies. All of that hurt me inside until I'm so numb I can't feel the pain anymore. But what hurts worse is to see you with clear eyes:"
"I never claimed to be perfect, Laurana;' Tanis said quietly.
The silver moon and the red had risen, neither of them full yet, but shining brightly enough for Tanis to see tears in Laurana's luminous eyes. He reached out his hands to take her in his arms, but she took a step backwards.
"You may never claim it;" she said scornfully, "but you certainly enjoy allowing us to think it!"
Ignoring his outstretched hands, she grabbed a torch from the wall and walked into the darkness beyond the gate of Thorbardin. Tanis watched her leave, watched the light shine on her honey-colored hair, watched her walk, as graceful as the slender aspens of their elven homeland of Qualinesti.
Tanis stood for a moment, staring after her, scratching the thick, reddish beard that no elf on Krynn could grow. Pondering Laurana's last statement, he thought, incongruously, of Kitiara. He conjured up pictures in his mind of Kit's cropped, curly black hair, her crooked smile, her fiery, impetuous temper, and her strong, sensual body-the body of a trained swordswoman, but he discovered to his amazement that now the picture dissolved, pierced 6y the calm, clear gaze of two slightly slanted, luminous, elven eyes.
Thunder rolled out from the mountain. The shaft that moved the huge stone gate began to turn, grinding the door shut. Tanis, watching it shut, decided he would not go in. "Sealed in a tomb:' He smiled, recalling Sturm's words, but there was a shiver in his soul as well. He stood for long moments, staring at the door, feeling its weight settle between him and Laurana. The door sealed shut with a dull boom. The face of the mountain was blank, cold, forbidding.
With a sigh, Tanis pulled his cloak about him and started toward the woods. Even sleeping in the snow was better than sleeping underground. He had better get used to it anyway. The Plains of Dust they would be traveling through to reach Tarsis would probably be choked with snow', even this early in the winter.
Thinking of the journey as he walked, Tanis looked up into the night sky. It was beautiful, glittering with stars. But two gaping black holes marred the beauty. Raistlin's missing constellations.
Holes in the sky. Holes in himself.
After his fight with Laurana, Tanis was almost glad to start on the journey. All the companions had agreed tar go. Tanis knew that none of them felt truly at home among the refugees.
Preparations for the journey gave him plenty to think about. He was able to tell himself he didn't care that Laurana avoided him. .end, at the beginnings the journey itself ways enjoyable. It seemed as if they were back in the early days of fall instead ofthe beginning of winter. The sun shone, warming the air. Only Raistlin wore his heaviest cloak.
Conversation as the companions walked through the northern part of the Plains was light-hearted and merry, filled with teasing and bantering and reminding each other of the fun they had shared in earlier, happier days in Solace. No one spoke of the dark and evil things they had seen in the recent past. It was as if, in the contemplation of a brighter future, they willed these things never to have existed.
At night, Elistan explained to them what he was learning o? the ancient gods from the Disks of Mishakal, which he carried with him. His stories filled their souls with peace and reinforced their faith. Even Tanis-who had spent a lifetime searching for something to believe in and now that they had found it viewed it with skepticism-felt deep in his soul that he could believe in this if he believed in anything. He wanted to believe in it, but something held him back, and every time he looked at Laurana, he knew what it was. Until he could resolve his own inner turmoil, the raging division between the elven and human inside of him, he would never know peace.
Only Raistlin did not share in the conversations, the merriment, the pranks and jokes, the campfire talks. The mage spent his days studying his spellbook. If interrupted, he would answer with a snarl. After dinner, of which he ate little, he sat by himself, his eyes on the night sky, staring at the two gaping black holes that were mirrored in the mage's black hourglassshaped pupils.
It was only after several days that spirits began to flag. The sun was obscured by clouds and the wind blew chill from the north. Snow fell so thickly that one day they could not travel at all but were forced to seek shelter in a cave until the blizzard blew itself out. They set double watch at night, though no one could say exactly why, only that they felt a growing sense of threat and menace. Riverwind stared uneasily at the trail they left in the snow behind them. As Flint said, a blind gully dwarf could follow it. The sense of menace grew, the sense of eyes watching and ears listening.
Yet who could it be, out here in the Plains of Dust whew nothing and no one had lived for three hundred years?
Chapter 2
Between master and dragon. Dismal journey.
The dragon sighed, flexed his huge wings, and lifted his ponderous body from the warm, soothing maters of the hot springs. Ernerging from a billowing cloud of vapor, he braced himself to step into the chill air. The clear winter air stung his delicate nostrils and bit into his throat. Swallowing painfully, he firmly resisted the temptation to return do the warm pools and began to climb to the high rocky ledge above him.
The dragon stamped irritably upon rocks slick with ice from the hot springs' vapor, which cooled almost instantly in thefreezing air. The stones cracked and broke beneath his clawed feet, bounding and tumbling down into the valley below.
Once he slipped, causing him momentarily to lose his balance. Spreading his great wings, he recovered easily, but the incident only served to increase his irritation further.
The morning sun lit the mountain peaks, touching the dragon, causing his blue scales to shimmer golden in the clear light but doing little to warm his blood. The dragon shivered again, stamping his feet upon the chill ground. Winter was not for the blue dragons, nor was travel in this abyssmal country. With that thought in mind, as it had been in his mind all the long, bitter night, Skie looked about for his master.
He found the Dragon Highlord standing upon an outcropping of rock, an imposing figure in horned dragonhelm and blue dragon-scale armor. The Highlord, cape whipping in the chill wind, was gazing with intense interest across the great flat plain far below.
"Come, Lord, return to your tent:' And let me return to the hot springs, Skie added mentally. "This chill wind cuts to the bone. Why are you out here anyway?"
Skie might have supposed the Highlord was reconnoitering, planning the disposition of troops, the attacks of the dragonflights. But that was not the case. The occupation of Tarsis had long been planned-planned, in fact, by another Dragon Highlord, for this land was under the command of the red dragons.
The blue dragons and their Dragon Highlords controlled the north, yet here I stand, in these frigid southlands, Skie thought irritably. And behind me is an entire flight of blue dragons. He turned his head slightly, looking down upon his fellows beating their wings in the early morning, grateful for the hot springs' warmth which took the chill from their tendons.
Fools, Skie thought scornfully. All they're waiting for is a signal from the Highlord to attack. To light the skies and burn the cities with their deadly bolts of lightning are all they care about. Their faith in the Dragon Highlord is implicit t. As well it might be, Skie admitted-their master had led them to victory after victory in the north, and they had not lost one of their number.
They leave it to me to ask the questions-because I am the Highlord's mount, because I am closest to the Highlord. Well, so be it. We understand each other, the Highlord and I.
'We have no reason to be in Tarsis:' Skie spoke his feelings plainly. He did not fear the Highlord. Unlike many of the dragons in Krynn who served their masters with grudging reluctance, knowing themselves to be the true rulers, Skie served his master out of respect-and love. "The reds don"t want us here, that's certain. And we're not needed. That soft city that beckons you so strangely will fall easily. No army. They swallowed the bait and marched off to the frontier:'
"We are here because my spies. tell me they are here-or will be shortly" was the Highlord's answer. The voice was low but carried even aver the biting wind.
"They . . . they . . :' grumbled the dragon, shivering and moving restlessly along the ridge. "We leave the war in the north, waste valuable time, lose a fortune in steel. And for what-a handful of itinerant adventurers:"
"The wealth is nothing to me, you know that. I could buy Tarsis if it pleased me:' The Dragon Highlord stroked the dragon's neck with an ice-caked leather glove that creaked with the powerful movements. "'The war in the north is going well. Lord Ariakus did not mind my leaving. Bakaris is a skilled young commander and knows my armies nearly as well as I do. And do not forget, Skie, these are more than vagabonds. These '.itinerant adventurers' killed Verminaard."
"Bah! The man had already dug his own grave. He was obsessed, font sight of the true purpose:' The dragon flicked a glance at his master. "The same might be said of others:'
"Obsessed; Yes, Verminaard was obsessed, and there are those who should be taking that obsession snore seriously. He was a cleric, he knew what damage the knowledge of the true ;gads, once spread among the people, can do us," answered the f-Iighlord. "Now, according to reports, the people have a leader in this human called Elistan, who has become a cleric of Paladine. Worshipers of Mishakal bring true healing back to the land. No, Verminaard was farseeing. There is great danger here. We should recognize and move to stop it-not scoff at it:"
The dragon snorted derisively. "This priest -Elistan~ doesri t lead the people. He leads eight hundred wretched humans, former slaves of Verminaard's in Pax Tharkas. Nowthey're holed up in Southgate, with the mountain dwarves:' The dragon settled down on the rock, feeling the morning sun finally bringing a modicum of warmth to his scaled skin. "Besides, our spies report they are traveling to Tarsis even as we speak. By tonight, this Elistan will be ours and that will be that. So much for the servant of Paladine!"
"Elistan is of no use to me:' The Dragon Highlord shrugged without interest. "He is not the one I seek:'
"No?" Skie raised his head, startled. 'Who, then?"
"There are three in whom I have particular interest. But I will provide you with descriptions oar all of them-"The Dragon Highlord moved closer to Skie- "because it is to capture them that we participate in the destruction of Tarsis tomorrow. Here are those whom we seek. . . :"
Tanis strode across the frozen plains, his booted footsteps punching noisily through the crust of wind-swept snow. The sun rose at his back, bringing a great deal of light but little warmth. He clutched his cloak about him and glanced around to make certain no one was lagging behind. The companions line stretched out single-file. They trod in each other"s tracks, the heavier, stronger people in front clearing the way for the weaker ones behind them.
Tanis led them. Sturm walked beside him, steadfast and faithful as ever, though still upset over leaving behind the Hammer of Kharas, which had taken on an almost mystical quality for the knight. He appeared more careworn and tired than usual, but he never failed to keep step with Tanis. This was not an easy feat, since the knight insisted on traveling in his full, antique battle armor, the weight of which forced Sturm's feet deep into the crusted snow.
Behind Sturm and Tanis came Caramon, trudging through the snow like a great bear, his arsenal of weapons clanking around him, carrying his armor and his share of supplies, as well as those of his twin brother, Raistlin, on his back. Just watching Caramon made Tanis weary, for the big warrior was not only walking through the deep snow with ease but was also managing to widen the trail for the others behind him.