Caramon had gone out to cover their tracks from the pursuers, and when he came back, he saw his brother,
106
BnotfjeRs Majene
leaning against a wall, head bent at an odd angle, eyes rolled back so that only the whites showed. A few moments later, however, Raistlin had recovered and acted as if nothing had happened. But Caramon knew that his brother had exhausted himself beyond even the endurance of his indomitable will.
This night, however, Raistlin was not recovering, though Caramon was sure he had acted in time, forcing the vapors of the herbs into the mage’s lungs.
“Something’s going on that I don’t understand,” the warrior muttered.
Looking at the still figure on the bed, Caramon gently brushed the long, white hair away from the mage’s face, revealing a mask of metal that gave no clue to the thoughts and feelings behind it. Raistlin was still wrapped in his red robes, a crimson shroud that concealed the weakness of his body.
Caramon, sitting in a large, plush chair near the bed, allowed himself a moment to close his eyes and stretch his huge frame. He was tired, but he had no intention of falling asleep while his twin was in the grip of this strange malady.
Oil lamps hung in each of the four corners of the room, suspended from the ceiling on silver wires, creating steady illumination that covered everything in a white-yellow glow. Moving to the lamps, Caramon blew them out one by one until the room was dark.
Turning from the last, Caramon caught his breath as he looked back to the mage. Raistlin’s body was covered in a faint blue glow, an aura that moved and flickered and danced around the gold of the magician’s skin. Arcs of lightning cracked between and around the fingers of his hands.
“Raist!” Caramon whispered in awe. “What’s going
107
DRAQONLANCE Pneluoes
on? Please, tell me! I’ve never seen anything like this before! I’m frightened! Raist! Please!”
But his brother couldn’t answer.
“It’s not real. It’s a trick of my eyes because I’m sleepy.” Caramon rubbed his eyes, but the glow remained.
Hurrying to the bed, the fighter imagined he saw the nimbus growing brighter at his approach. He reached out with an unsteady hand and touched Raistlin’s arm. The lines around the mage’s hands extended toward him, as if groping out blindly to feel another’s presence.
Caramon quickly backed away, unwilling to commune with the power that surrounded the sorcerer’s body.
“Well, I can do one of two things,” said Earwig to himself, standing in the middle of the empty street. “I can go back to Raistlin and tell him I lost his staff. . . .”
The kender paused to consider this course of action. Raistlin would not be pleased. And while he would undoubtedly do something very interesting to the kender, Earwig wasn’t certain that he really wanted to live the rest of his life as a slug.
“Or,” said Earwig, “I could go out and find the staff and bring it to him and he’d be eternally grateful.”
That sounded much better. Earwig returned to the inn, intending to collect his pouches and his hoopak from where he’d left them when he went to get the staff. However, one of the servants had been posted at the ruined front door to guard against unwelcome intruders. He immediately stopped the kender.
“But I’m with Caramon and Raistlin Majere! I’m Earwig Lockpicker!” said the kender importantly.
“Yes, he’s one of them,” the proprietor concurred, hastening back down the stairs. “Councillor Shavas says to
108
BRotrjens Majene
make them all welcome and provide them with every comfort. But,” he said, shaking a finger at the kender, “you’re to stay in your room and not go wandering about the town! Come on. This way!”
And before the startled kender could protest, the proprietor had hustled him up the stairs, into a room, and shut and locked the door behind him.
“Well!” said Earwig, and sat down to consider the matter. “It’s nice of them to be concerned about my rest, but they don’t know that I have a very important mission to perform. I don’t want to hurt their feelings, though, after all the trouble they’ve gone to, so I’ll just wait until they’re in bed and then slip out.”