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Bnotftens Majerce
Raistlin heard the door close behind them. The sun, warm and encouraging, shone through the window, causing the mage’s skin to glow with an inner golden light that seemed healthy in comparison with the sickly tinge it had acquired the night before. He reached over and touched the Staff of Magius with his hand, finding comfort in the feel of the wood.
“Why can’t I remember? And why am I maddened by a half-dream I can’t recall? It was important. Something important—”
“Excuse me, sir,” came a timid voice, taut with fear.
Raistlin turned swiftly. He had not heard the door open. “What do you want?” he asked dourly, seeing a thin, dark-haired woman standing in the doorway.
The woman blanched at his harsh tone, but, gathering her courage, she took a trembling step forward into the room.
“Pardon, sir, but I was talking to your brother, and he said you was the one brought about the downfall of the cleric of Larnish?”
The mage’s eyes narrowed. Was this some religious fanatic, about to berate him? “He was a fraud and a charlatan. A third-rate illusionist,” Raistlin whispered. Turning to face the woman, he pulled back his hood.
The woman saw hourglass eyes sunken into golden skin, reflecting in the morning light. The sight was alarming, but she held her ground.
“He stole money from innocent people in the name of his false gods,” Raistlin continued. “He ruined countless lives. Yes, I was responsible for his downfall. I repeat again, woman, what do you want of me?”
“I’ve . . . I’ve just come to thank ye, and give ye this,” the cook said. She crept nearer the mage, holding something in her hand. “My boy, sir. He was one of them that
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DRAQONLANCE PuelUbes
was took in. He’s back home with me now, sir, and doing well.”
The woman dropped her gift in the mage’s lap.
“It’s a good-fortune charm,” the woman said shyly.
Raistlin lifted it. The amuiet sparkled and glimmered, shining and glittering as it spun slowly on its chain. It was ancient, the jewels in it valuable. He recognized it as a treasured possession, one that could have been sold to ease poverty, but was kept in remembrance of loved ones long dead.
“I must get back to my work now,” said the cook, backing up. “I just wanted to tha—”
Raistlin reached out a skeletal hand and took hold of the woman’s arm. She cringed, shrinking backward.
“Thank you, mistress,” he said softly. “This is a wondrous charm you have given me. I shall cherish it always.”
The woman’s thin face brightened with pleasure. Bending down, she timidly kissed his hand, shuddering slightly at the feel of the too-warm skin. The mage let loose of her arm, and she fled out the door.
Alone again, Raistlin tried to recapture the dream, but it wouldn’t be caught. Sighing, he stuffed the charm into one of his pouches, and—leaning on the staff—pulled himself to his feet. He took one final look out the window and saw, shimmering afong the grass, the strange white line leading north, leading to Mereklar.
Raistlin walked outside the inn. The staff’s golden claw shone in the sunlight, the pale blue orb it held seemed to absorb the dawn, transforming the light into its own.
“Where’s Caramon?” the mage asked Earwig, who was sitting hunched over on the packs.
“He told me to stay here and wait for him, but it’s getting awfully boring. Can’t we go now?”
“Where—” began Raistlin again.
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Bnotrfens Majeue
“Oh, he went around the side of the building about a minute ago.” The kender pointed.
Raistlin looked at the packs that had obviously been rifled and wondered just how much of their possessions had made their way into Earwig’s pouches. Caramon was such a fool sometimes.
The mage, face set into grim lines, stalked around to the back of the inn. He found his brother and one of the barmaids embracing, the warrior’s huge body enfolding the girl’s smaller one.
Raistlin stared silently. A slight breeze barely moved his robes, the only motion around his body. No breath could be heard, no sound passed from his lips. Emotions surged from a well he knew must be sealed forever if he was to achieve true power. He stood and watched, his chest burning, though a coolness was already rushing from within to extinguish the heat. Even with great effort of will, there was something that made him stand and watch until he could bear no more.