Brothers Majere by Weis, Margaret

The proprietor slammed the door shut again immediately after the three were inside. He was trembling so hard he could barely stand.

“Forgive me, sirs, but there’s been a terrible accident in town! Lord Manion—”

“We know,” snapped Raistlin, moving past the man. “And it was no accident.”

Caramon noticed that his brother barely needed the assistance of the staff to walk anymore. Raistlin’s gait was strong, even after being up all hours of the night. He had not coughed once. The mage reminded Caramon so much of what he had been before the test that tears came to the warrior’s eyes. He blinked them back and prayed

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to whatever gods were listening that this change would last.

The cat in his arms suddenly began to wriggle and squirm. Jumping out of Caramon’s grasp, it landed on the floor and sat there, staring at him for a moment. Then, tail stuck straight up in the air, the cat wandered off, heading for the kitchen.

The proprietor began bolting the door, chained it securely. Raistiin climbed the stairs to their room. Caramon came after him, dragging Earwig, who was staring with professional interest at the numerous locks on the door.

Arriving outside their room, Raistlin held up a warning hand. Caramon kept hold of Earwig, who would have charged heedlessly ahead.

“Wait,” said the warrior.

“Why?” Earwig asked, staring at Raistlin.

“Shiraki” The mage held the beaming orb to the floor, stared intently underneath the door.

“What’s he doing, checking for dust?” asked the ken-der.

“Yeah, sort of,” said Caramon.

“It’s all right,” said Raistlin, standing up. He held a rose petal in his hand. “This was where I left it. No one has passed.”

“You better let me go first, just in case,” said Caramon, drawing his sword.

The mage unlocked the door, and the warrior pushed it aside with his hand, both of them keeping well out of the way. Nothing happened. Carefully, Caramon entered the room. Raistlin came after him, holding the light of his staff high. Earwig bounded in, hoping the rose petal had been wrong and that there might be something interesting inside.

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DRAQONLANCE

There wasn’t.

Raistlin sank down on the bed and gave way to a sudden fit of coughing. He fumbled for his pouch of herbs. “It’s gone!”

“What? What’s gone?”

“My herbal mixture! My pouch must have fallen off in the park.”

“I’ll go—” Caramon began.

“No, don’t leave me, brother!” Raistlin clutched his chest. “Besides, you’d never get out of the inn. Not the way it’s locked up!”

“I’ll go!” said Earwig, jumping up and down with excitement. “I can get out!”

“Yes!” Raistlin nodded, sinking down on the bed. “Send the kender.” He shut his eyes.

“Hurry up!” Caramon admonished Earwig sternly. “No stops along the way!”

“Not me!”

Opening the door, the kender darted out. They could hear his light footsteps racing down the hall and clattering down the stairs. Then, silence.

Raistlin, drawing a deep breath, sat up briskly. Rising from the bed, he went to the window. Caramon stared at him.

“Raist? What—”

“Hush, my brother.” The mage drew back the curtain, being careful to keep himself behind it. “Yes,” he said after a moment. “There he goes. Now we may talk freely.”

“You think Earwig’s a spy?” Caramon didn’t know whether to burst into laughter or tears.

“I don’t know what to think,” Raistlin answered gravely. “Except that he wears a magic ring and has no idea how he came by it. Or, at least, so he says. You’ve seen how strangely he’s been acting.”

Caramon sat down heavily in a chair. Leaning his elbows on the table, he let his head sink into his hands. “I

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Majene

don’t like this, any of it! A man murdered— his body ripped apart. No blood. Only a kind of brown dust. The kender wearing a magic ring . . .”

“It’s going to get worse, my brother, before it gets better.” Reaching into his robes, Raistlin brought out the bag of herbs and regarded it thoughtfully. He was growing stronger. There was no doubt about it. Was it his cure? Or. . .

“Could you break a tree, Caramon? One of the trees in the park?” he asked abruptly.

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