Brothers Majere by Weis, Margaret

“What do you call this street?” the mage asked the driver.

“This, sir? This is called Eastgate Street, sir.”

“Councillor Shavas will pay your fare,” Raistlin said, climbing down out of the carriage. “No need to wait.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” The driver whipped up his horses and left as quickly as he could, nearly running over Caramon and Earwig.

“Now that we’re here, what do we do?” Caramon asked.

“We get a drink,” Raistlin said, heading toward the first hyava house he found.

“Huh? This time of morning? Since when—”

“Hush, my brother. I’m thirsty.”

The fighter stared after his twin, wondering what had come over him. Shrugging, he grabbed the kender and followed.

The hyava shop was similar to all of the other shops the companions had passed, offering tiny cups of the liquor with equally tiny saucers, and chairs and tables for sitting outside. Earwig and Caramon both ordered straight hyava with scones. Raistlin bought a small glass

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of brandy. The three relaxed in the warm sun.

“Why did you get that?” Caramon asked. “I thought you wanted hyava.”

Raistlin sipped at his brandy. Caramon sat, brooding. Earwig ate his scone in one bite. Seeing that his large friend was not going to eat his scone, the kender snatched the pastry off the plate, lifting it to his mouth.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Caramon yelled, batting at the kender’s hand.

“Watch it!” Earwig yelled in return, trying to hang on to the scone. It broke apart in his hands and fell to the ground. “Now see what you’ve done. You’ve ruined my snack!”

“Your snack?” the warrior said in disbelief. “What do you mean, your snack?”

“You weren’t going to eat it, so I assumed you wanted to give it to me.”

“How do you know I wasn’t going to eat it? I— Oh, never mind. At least it won’t go to waste.”

Several cats had wandered by and, assuming that neither the kender nor the fighter wanted the scone, took it upon themselves to resolve the argument. The warrior cheered at the sight, bent down to pet one of the animals. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a figure, dressed in black, crouched in the shadows.

“Earwig!” Caramon whispered. “Do you see someone standing in that alley? No, don’t look up!”

“What?” the kender said loudly, looking up. “Where?”

Caramon gritted his teeth. There were times, he realized, when a kender’s companionship was not worth the effort. “I said not to look!”

“Well, how am I supposed to see if I don’t look?”

“Never mind. It’s too late, now. Do you see somebody standing in that alley across the street?”

“No, not anymore,” Earwig said.

Caramon sat up and turned around, staring directly

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into the alley. No one was there. In fact, looking closer, the fighter saw that he must have been mistaken. What he had taken for a figure in black was a water barrel.

“Well?” demanded Raistlin.

“Nothing. I guess I’m just spooked from last night,” Caramon muttered. Raising up from petting the cat, he saw—in astonishment—tears streaming down his twin’s golden-skinned face.

“Raistlin! What’s the mat—”

“Nothing, Caramon,” the mage interrupted. “In fact, quite the opposite. I’m beginning to understand something about this city.” Raistlin clenched his hand around his wooden staff to control his mounting excitement.

There are two lines, the mage concluded. They both cut through the center of the two main streets. This one must also lead directly to the councillor’s house! And I’ll wager my staff that a third line runs down the west street. Lines of power, stretching across the world, perhaps; shining more brightly every moment. Lines that end here! In this city. ‘The city that stands before the first gods.”

“Caramon,” said Raistlin aloud. “I must have a sextant.”

The companions walked to the third section of the city, looking into several shops for the navigational tool. When they finally found one—a small brass sextant with an extremely accurate lens and even more accurate gradations—it was far too expensive.

“A bargain,” the shopkeeper assured them, but the mage handed it back.

“Can’t you use Lady Shavas’s scroll to get it?” Caramon asked.

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