“Maybe I did, but that’s because I can still have those kind of feelings! I can know what it is to love someone!”
Caramon tossed his barbed words without aim, goaded into fighting by his brother’s bitter sarcasm. But
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when he saw them hit their target, he would have given his soul to take them back.
Raistlin’s shoulders jerked, as if pierced to the heart. The thin frame seemed to collapse in on itself. His head bent, his body trembled. He gathered his robes around him.
“I’m sorry, Raist—” Caramon began.
“No, Caramon.” His twin raised a feeble hand. “I am the one who should apologize. Your comments were most . . . perceptive.”
“What happened to you last night?” asked Caramon, with the intuitive knowledge of a twin.
The mage said nothing for a minute. He stared down into his hyava, watching the brew swirl in the cup. “I was nearly destroyed last night. ”
“An ambush?” Caramon started to stand again. “It was that man, wasn’t it? That Bast fellow! I’ll—”
“No, my brother. It was a trap—a magical trap. It was set for me in one of the books.”
“Trap? Where? In Lady Shavas’s house?” Caramon stared, incredulous.
“Yes, in Lady Shavas’s house.”
“You think she set it, don’t you?” Caramon demanded, growing angry.
“I found three books of magic in her library, my brother, and one of them contained a rune-spiral that nearly captured my soul and dragged me into the Abyss! What would you think?”
“It was an accident. She couldn’t know she had something like that in her house!”
“How could she not know? Ah, I remember now. There are no magicians in Mereklar’ ” The mage mimicked the woman’s voice. “A perfect excuse.”
“You don’t suspect . . . You do think she did it on purpose!”
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His twin’s silence spurred Caramon further.
“Why would she want to do that?” he yelled. “She’s the one who hired us! She defended us to the ministers!”
“Exactly. Why would she want me … ?” Raistlin paused, eyes narrowing.
“Look, Raist!” said Caramon, breathing heavily, trying to control his anger. “You’re smarter than I am. I admit that. You seem to know a lot more about what’s going on here than I do. Someone tried to kill both of us in the woods. Then someone tried to kill me. Someone’s tried to trap you. Earwig’s disappeared. Now you come here on purpose to meet that man who’s been following us. How did you know he’d be here? Who is he? I think you should me tell what’s going on.”
Raistlin shook his head. “So much to do. And so little time. Tonight, Caramon. The Great Eye shines tonight. And I’m not ready. …” He sighed, then said, “If you must know, in one of the books, I saw a picture of that man standing in a place that looked familiar to me. I realized this morning that the place was here—Westgate Street.”
“You saw him in a book? What did it say about him?”
“That he was a creature of great evil. But, after meeting him, I’m no longer sure what to believe.”
“I know.” Caramon shuddered. “He’d just as soon rip out your heart as look at you.”
“Perhaps. But—”
“Excuse me, gentlemen.” It was the barmaid. Caramon vaguely remembered that her name was Catherine, “I couldn’t help overhearing you mention Earwig. Do you mean Earwig Lockpicker, the kender?”
“You’ve seen Earwig? Where is he?” Raistlin asked with interest.
“I don’t know. That’s what I’ve come to tell you. I think he’s been abducted.”
“Abducted?” Caramon snorted. “Who in his right mind would run off with a kender?”
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“Well, we were talking in the tavern where I work, and I went into the back to get some ale, and when I returned, he was gone!” Catherine stared down at her shoes.
Raistlin’s shrewd eyes watched the girl from the shadows of his hood. “He probably just wandered off.”
“No, he didn’t.” Catherine began to twist and tug at her apron.
Raistlin eyed the girl specula lively, then suddenly the golden skinned hand shot out and grabbed hold of her wrist. “Where have they taken him?”