PAR-SALIAN'S TWISTED HANDS CLASPED AND UNCLASPED. "WHO QUESTIONS THE GODS?" HE FROWNED. "THEY DEMANDED A SWORD. I FOUND ONE, BUT HIS METAL IS WHITE HOT. HE MUST BE BEATEN… TEMPERED… MADE USEFUL."
Raistlin dragged himself away from the dead body of the dark elf. Wounded and exhausted, he crawled into a shadowy corridor and slumped against a wall. Pain twisted him. He clutched his stomach and retched. When the convulsion subsided, he lay back on the stone floor and waited for death.
WHY ARE THEY DOING THIS TO ME? he wondered through a dreamy haze of pain. Only a young conjurer, he had been subjected to trials devised by the most renowned Mages-living and dead. The fact that he must pass these Tests was no longer his main thought; survival, however, was. Each trial had wounded him, and his health had always been precarious. If he survived this ordeal-and he doubted he would-he could imagine his body to be like a shattered crystal, held together by the force of his own will.
But then, of course, there was Caramon, who would care for him-as always.
HA! The thought penetrated the haze, even made Raistlin laugh harshly. No, death was preferable to a life of dependence on his brother. Raistlin lay back on the stone floor, wondering how much longer they would let him suffer…
.. And a huge figure materialized out of the shadowy
darkness of the corridor.
THIS IS IT, Raistlin thought, MY FINAL TEST. THE ONE I WON'T SURVIVE.
He decided simply not to fight, even though he had one spell left. Maybe death would be quick and merciful.
He lay on his back, staring at the dark shadow as it drew closer and closer. It came to stand next to him. He could sense its living presence, hear its breathing. It bent over him. Involuntarily, he closed his eyes.
"Raist?"
He felt cold fingers touch his burning flesh.
"Raist!" the voice sobbed. "In the name of the gods, what have they done to you?"
"Caramon," Raistlin spoke, but he couldn't hear his own voice. His throat was raw from coughing.
"I'm taking you out of here," his brother announced firmly.
Raistlin felt strong arms slip under his body. He smelled the familiar smell of sweat and leather, heard the familar sound of armor creak and broadsword clank.
"No!" Raistlin pushed against his brother's massive chest with a frail, fragile hand. "Leave me, Caramon! My tests are not complete! Leave me!" His voice was an inaudible croak, then he gagged violently.
Caramon lifted him easily, cradled him in his arms. "Nothing is worth this. Rest easy, Raist." The big man choked. As they walked under a flickering torch, Raistlin could see tears on his brothers cheeks. He made one last effort.
"They won't allow us to go, Caramon!" He raised his head, gasping for breath. "You're only putting yourself in danger!"
"Let them come," Caramon said grimly, walking with firm steps down the dimly lit corridor.
Raistlin sank back, helpless, his head resting on Caramon's shoulder. He felt comforted by his brother's strength, though he cursed him inwardly.
YOU FOOL! Raistlin closed his eyes wearily. YOU GREAT, STUBBORN FOOL! NOW WE'LL BOTH DIE. AND, OF COURSE, YOU WILL DIE PROTECTING ME. EVEN IN DEATH I'LL BE INDEBTED TO YOU!
"Ah…"
Raistlin heard and felt the sharp intake of breath into his brother's body. Caramon's walk had slowed. Raistlin raised his head and peered ahead.
"A wraith," he breathed.
"Mmmm…" Caramon rumbled deeply in his chest-his battle-cry.
"My magic can destroy it," Raistlin protested as Caramon laid him gently on the stone floor. BURNING HANDS, Raistlin thought grimly. A weak spell against a wraith, but he had to try. "Move, Caramon! I have just enough strength left."
Caramon did not answer. He turned around and walked toward the wraith, blocking Raistlin's view.
Clinging to the wall, the conjurer clawed his way to a standing position and raised his hand. Just as he was about to expend his strength in one last shout, hoping to warn off his brother, he stopped and stared in disbelief. Caramon raised his hand. Where before he had held a sword, now he held a rod of amber. In the other hand, his shield hand, he held a bit of fur. He rubbed the two together, spoke some magic words-and a lightning bolt flashed, striking the wraith in the chest. It shrieked, but kept coming, intent on draining Cara-mon's life energy. Caramon kept his hands raised. He spoke again. Another bolt sizzled, catching the wraith in its head. And suddenly there was nothing.
"Now we'll get out of here," Caramon said with satisfaction. The rod and the fur were gone. He turned around. "The door is just ahead-"
'"How did you do that?" Raistlin asked, propping himself up against the wall.
Caramon halted, alarmed by his brother's wild, frenzied stare.
"Do what?" The fighter blinked.
"The magic!" Raistlin shrieked in fury. "The magic!"
"Oh, that," Caramon shrugged. "I've always been able to. Most of the time I don't need it, what with my sword and all, but you're hurt real bad and I've got to get you out of here. I didn't want to take time fighting that character. Don't bother about it, Raist. It can still be your little specialty. Like I said before, most of the time I don't need it."
THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE, Raistlin's mind told him. HE COULDN'T HAVE ACQUIRED IN MOMENTS WHAT IT TOOK ME YEARS OF STUDY TO ATTAIN. THIS DOESN'T MAKE SENSE. FIGHT THE SICKNESS AND THE WEAKNESS AND THE PAIN! THINK! But it wasn't the physical pain that clouded Raistlin's mind. It was the old inner pain clawing at him, tearing at him with poisoned talons. Caramon, strong and cheerful, good and kind, open and honest. Everyone's friend.
Not like Raistlin-the runt, the Sly One.
ALL I EVER HAD WAS MY MAGIC, Raistlin's mind shrieked. AND NOW HE HAS THAT TOO!
Propping himself against the wall for support, Raistlin raised both his hands, put his thumbs together, and pointed them at Caramon. He began murmuring magic words, but different from those that Caramon had spoken.
"Raist?" Caramon backed up. "What are you doing? C'mon! Let me help you. I'll take care of you- just like always… Raist! I'm your brother!"
Raistlin's parched lips cracked in a grin. Hatred and jealousy long kept bubbling and molten beneath a layer of cold, solid rock-burst forth. Magic coursed through his body and flamed out of his hands. He watched the fire flare, billow, and engulfCaramon. When the fighter became a living torch, Raistlin sud denly knew from his training that what he was seeing simply could not be. The instant that he realized something was wrong with this occurrence, the burning image of his brother vanished. A moment later, Raistlin lost consciousness and slumped to the ground.
"Awaken, Raistlin, your trials are complete."
Raistlin opened his eyes. The darkness was gone;
sunshine streamed through a window. He lay in a bed. Looking down at him was the withered face of Par-Salian.
"Why?" Raistlin rasped, clutching at the Mage in fury. "Why did you do that to me?"
Par-Salian laid his hand on the frail young man's shoulder. "The gods asked for a sword, Raistlin, and now I can give them one-you. Evil is coming upon the land. The fate of all this world called Krynn swings in the balance. Through the aid of your hand and others, the balance will be restored."
Raistlin stared, then laughed, briefly and bitterly. "Save Krynn? How? You have shattered my body. I can't even see properly!" He stared in terror…
.. For, as Raistlin watched, he could see the Mage's face
dying. When he turned his gaze to the window, the stones he looked at crumbled before his eyes. Wherever he looked, everything was falling into ruin and decay. Then, the moment passed, and his vision cleared.
Par-Salian handed him a mirror. Raistlin saw that his own face was sunken and hollow. His skin was a golden color now, with a faint metallic cast; this would be a symbol of the agony he had endured. But it was his eyes that caused him to recoil in horror, for the black pupils were no longer round- they were the shape of hourglasses!
"You see through hourglass eyes now, Raistlin. And so you see time, as it touches all things. You see death, whenever you look on life. Thus you will always be aware of the brief timespan we spend in the world." Par-Salian shook his head. "There will be no joy in your life, Raistlin, I fear-indeed, little joy for anyone living on Krynn."
Raistlin laid the mirror face down. "My brother?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
"It was an illusion that I created-my personal challenge for you to look deeper into your own heart and examine the ways in which you deal with those closest to you," Par-Salian said gently. "As for your brother, he is here, safe… quite safe. Here he comes now."
As Caramon entered the room, Raistlin sat up, shoving Par Salian aside. The warrior appeared relieved to see that his twin had enough energy to greet him, but Caramon's eyes reflected a certain sadness that comes from learning an unpleasant truth.
"I didn't think you would recognize the illusion for what it was," Par-Salian said. "But you did; after all, what magic-user can work spells, carrying a sword and wearing armor?"
"Then I did not fail?" Raistlin murmured hoarsely.
"No." Par-Salian smiled. "The final of the Test was the defeat of the dark elf-truly superb for one of your experience."
Raistlin looked at his brother's haunted face, his averted eyes. "He watched me kill him, didn't he?" Raistlin whispered.
"Yes," Par-Salian looked from one to the other. "I am sorry Ihad to do this to you, Raistlin. You have much to learn, mage mercy, compassion, forebear-ance. It is my hope that the trials you face ahead of you will teach you what you lack now. If not, you will succumb in the end to the fate your master foresaw. But, as of now, you and your brother truly know each other. The barriers between you have been battered down, though I am afraid each of you has suffered wounds in the encounter. I hope the scars make you stronger."
Par-Salian rose to leave. "Use your powers well, mage. The time is close at hand when your strength must save the world."
Raistlin bowed his head and sat in silence until Par-Salian had left the room. Then he stood up, staggered, and nearly fell.
Caramon jumped forward to help him, but Raistlin, clinging to the wooden staff, caught himself. Fighting the pain and dizziness that assailed him, Raistlin's golden-eyed gaze met that of his twin. Caramon hesitated… and stopped.
Raistlin sighed. Then, leaning on the Staff of Ma-gius, the young mage pulled himself upright and walked, slowly and with faltering steps, out the door.
Head bowed, his twin followed.
Harvests
Nancy Varian Berberick
Flint squinted up at the patches of fading blue sky showing through the forest's skeletal cover. Golden light slanted down from a westering autumn sun. The thought of another night in this gloomy woods did nothing to improve his mood, already soured by two restless nights. Wicked whispers and dread-filled moans were this forest's night song. He shivered and caught himself tapping the haft of his battle-axe. There was something wrong in these woods, and thoughts of Solace and home never seemed more welcome to the old dwarf than they had on this journey.
The dwarf glowered at Tanis. Blast the young half-elf's curious nature! So he hadn't been out of his homeland of Qualinesti that long. Did that mean he had to lead them down every cowpath in search of adventure? And wasn't he, Flint Fireforge, a respectable dwarven businessman, old enough to know better?
Flint heaved a disgruntled sigh. He guessed not-or he wouldn't be in this predicament, lost in some gloomy forest that wasn't on his map.
"Are you going to be peering at the dirt much longer," he grumbled, "or can we look for a camp site?"
Tanis, moving on Flint's heels and inspecting the ground to the left of the root-webbed path, gestured for Flint to join him. "Look at this."
The bushes and frost-seared grass to the side of the path were bent and trampled, marking a departure into the forest. A scrap of brown wool still fluttered in the sharp-toothed grasp of a young prickly ash.
"It looks like someone went through here," Flint said. "And recently, at that."
Tanis peered into the forest in the direction the lone traveler had taken. The song of water racing and tumbling over rocks played a faint counterpoint to the whispering rustle of leaves in the cooling breeze. But then from nearer by he heard the soft sound of something or someone breathing in the hard, short gasps that clearly spoke of fear.
"Flint?" he whispered.
"I hear it."
Tanis reached for his bow and nocked an arrow with the quick, almost absent moves of one who has used it with familiarity for years. It took only a gesture and a nod from him to tell the old dwarf to follow quietly.
Elf-silent, making no more noise than a hunted fox, Tanis stepped off the path and into the darkening woods.
Close-growing oaks and then underbrush crowded together, forming a broad wall of trunks and forbidding shadow. Tanis moved quickly from one oak to the next, keeping cover. Several growths thick, the trees ended abruptly in a clearing carpeted with their wide-fingered bronze leaves.
The girl crouched at the edge of the clearing was the most bedraggled creature Tanis had ever seen. Her hair, the color of frost-kissed aspen leaves, tumbled around her shoulders and straggled across her face. It did not hide the scratches and cuts, signs of a careless passage through the prickly ash, that scored her cheeks.
She could not have been more than seventeen and that was young, Tanis thought, even by the standards of short-lived humans. Crouched in the thick shadows of an ancient oak's trunk, she held perfectly still. There was that in her blue eyes that reminded the half-elf of a doe caught in a hunter's aim.
Flint breathed a startled oath. As though the old dwarf's whisper was the impetus she needed, the girl bolted.
"No, wait!" Tanis called. But the girl plunged through the trees, too terrified to cast even a backward look. Tanis leaped after her, slinging his bow and returning the arrow to the quiver as he ran. Behind him he could hear Flint angling toward the stream. Above them a raven screeched hoarsely and took noisy wing from a tall oak.
Tanis caught up with the girl at the stream. "Lady, wait!"
She skittered down the mossy bank. Once there she dropped to her knees, groping along the edge of the water for a rock. Her hand, raw with cold and trembling with fear, clutched a large stone. She hurled it at the half-elf with all her strength and awkward aim.
Tanis ducked and heard the rock drop harmlessly into the brush behind him. Flint breached the woods just a little upstream from the girl. He moved silently down the water's edge. While her attention was still on Tanis, who took the banks in two long leaps, Flint caught her by the elbows. He pinned her arms behind her, and brought her up to her feet.
"That will be enough of that, young woman," he said gruffly. "We've no interest in harming you."
Her eyes wide and wild with terror, the girl looked from the old dwarf to the young half-elf. Gasping, she struggled against Flint's hold. Tanis took another step toward her, showing her his hands, free of weapons.
"He means it, lady. We won't harm you. Flint, you can let her go."
"I'll be happy to-if she promises not to try to break our heads with rocks."
Tanis smiled at the girl. "She'll promise that, won't you, lady?"
Her chin came up, and though her lips trembled, she eyed Tanis defiantly. "And what warrant do you make?"
"I'll make you two," Tanis said gently. "That neither of us will harm you and that we'll offer you a warm fire for the night. Are they acceptable?"
Her whispered «yes» carried such mingled notes of hope and fear that it went right to Tanis's heart. In the twilight gloom now settling on the forest, he saw the sparkle of tears in her eyes. He took her hand and helped her up the bank.
He glanced over her head at Flint, but the dwarf only shrugged. Still, Tanis knew that his friend pondered the same question that he did: what was the girl doing alone in these woods?
Tanis managed to bring down two fat hares while Flint and the girl made camp. Riana, she'd said her name was, but she volunteered no information after that. It was Tanis's thought that she'd speak more willingly once she was fed and warm.
Riana was silent through all the time it took to roast the hares, though some of her fear seemed to leave her as she listened to Tanis's easy banter and Flint's gruff answers. She did not speak during the meal but to thank them for the food and finally to offer to clean the cookware at the stream.
Tanis listened to her careful progress down the bank. A cold wind scampered through the clearing, rustling the leaves and causing the bare branches of the trees to rub and clack together. These were the only sounds in a forest fallen silent before winter's approach.
The sky had been clear at sunset, but now thick clouds crawled up from the north. Though Lunitari's crimson glow had lighted each of their nights before this, it would not tonight; Solinari, could she be seen, was only a slim new curve. Beyond the fire's glow the trees' gnarled hands scratched at the grim sky. Ghostly mist drifted between their dark trunks, obscuring the ground and lowest growths.
In Flint's pack was a small pouch containing nothing but blocks of wood. Tanis smiled as he watched his friend reach into the pouch, taking the first one he touched. The size of his hand, the block was smooth and white, taken from the heart of a maple. Flint's dagger gleamed in the firelight as he made himself comfortable before the fire. In the companionable silence that fell between the two, the little block of wood became a rabbit, one ear dipped, one standing at the alert. The rabbit s nose, nostrils flared as though sniffing the frosty night air, required only a few last cuts when the soft dirge-like moaning that had haunted their nights began again.
Tanis shivered. "In the name of the gods, Flint, why is a child like that traveling alone in this miserable forest?"
But before Flint could answer, Riana's shadow fell across the fire, sharp and black. Her voice trembled. "I was not alone when I set out. My brother and-and Karel were with me." She set the cookware by the fire to dry and came to sit close to the warmth.
Tanis poked at the fire and watched the bright flames lick higher. "Where are they now, Riana?"
The girl shuddered, hunching closer into the poor shelter of her ragged cloak. "I–I don't know. It happened two nights ago. We were camping farther north, returning from our journey to Haven. Our village lies north of here. You might know it-Winding Vale."
Flint worked at his whittling and did not look up. "We know it," he said quietly. "What happened to your brother and this Karel?"
"Our camp-it was attacked!" The wind mourned long and low in the trees. Riana drew her knees up close to her chest, huddling for warmth. "It was attacked by-things, phantoms, ghosts-I don't know what they were. I only know that they were horrible. And when Karel ran his sword through one it-it didn't die. It laughed and the sound froze the heart in me. I've never seen such fear in Karel before! And I've known him all my life. He looked at me- It was as though he pleaded for my help. Or bade me farewell." She stopped, a sob caught in her throat, grief and an almost witless despair in her wide blue eyes. "And then it touched him, took his hand, and another one took Daryn, my brother, and-and they were gone."
She dropped her forehead to her knees and rocked there in silent misery. Moved by her sorrow, Tanis put his arm around her. She leaned against him, shivering. In the stillness of the black night the fire's crackling seemed too loud.
"And you've been lost these two days, wandering?"
"No!" Her voice was muffled against his shoulder. Tanis could feel her stiffen in anger. "I'm not lost, I'm trying to FIND them!"
"It seems to me," Flint muttered, his eyes still on his whittling, "that it amounts to about the same thing."
"It's not the same thing." Riana pulled away from Tanis and brushed at the hair straggling across her tear-streaked face.
"I see. Then perhaps you have an idea where these ghosts or phantoms have taken your brother and his friend?"
"If I knew that I'd be going there."
"Lost and wandering."
Before Riana could protest, Tanis took her hand and silenced Flint with a sharp look. "Riana, whatever the case may be, you cannot be alone in these woods. Our way lies northeast to Solace. We would be glad of your company that far."
"No. Thank you, but no. I must find my brother and Karel. Haven't you heard what I've said?" She looked from Tanis to Flint, then suddenly understood the hard line of Flint's questioning. "You don't believe me, do you?"
Tanis shook his head. "No, Riana, it's not that-"
"You don't. What do you think? Do you think I've done away with them? My own brother and the man-who has been a friend to us both for all our lives? Or do you think that I'm fey enough to wander these wretched woods alone for pleasure?" Her voice rose, sharp in the cold dark. "My brother and Karel have VANISHEDL"
"Riana, let us help you. Let us take you to Solace."
"I must find them. I'll not find them in Solace." Her tone was bitter, cooling now with disappointment. "But I thank you for your fire tonight and the food. I'll be on my way in the morning."
Tanis took her hand again and suddenly Flint sensed his friends thought as clearly as he could sense the frost on the night air.