Raistlin glanced behind him. “There are only four of them, my brother.”
“Oh, yeah,” said Caramon, flexing his sword arm.
The twins turned their steps in the direction the barmaid had indicated and soon left the city behind them. ‘A journey by day, the map of a friend, and fair weather is all I crave,’ ” said a voice.
Caramon turned, his sword rattling in its sheath.
“Peace, my brother,” said Raistlin.
Bast was leaning up against a tree, his arms crossed in front of his chest. The shadow from his curling hair fell over his features, making his countenance appear even darker.
“You are well read,” Raistlin said, planting the Staff of Magius into the soft ground.
“Willians is a favorite of mine.” Bast moved over to the twins. He seemed to flow rather than walk. His footsteps were as silent as night stealing over the world.
“What do you want? And don’t tell me that I already know what you want,” Raistlin added dryly.
“But you do. I want to accompany you to the wizard’s cave.”
Caramon tensed. He could still feel the mysterious power emanating from the man. “We don’t need any com — ” the big man began.
“Come along then,” Raistlin interrupted as though Caramon had not spoken. The mage pulled the hood of his red robes over his face.
261
DRAQONLANCE PRClubes
The lands surrounding Mereklar were rich with crops and food-bearing trees, planted there since the first people inhabited the city. Wheat, corn, and various grains lay in measured patterns, interspersed between regular groves of bushes and other plants. But there were no farmers in the fields, and tools lay scattered about, as if they had been discarded hurriedly. The travelers ignored these sights, moving on the main road leading from the great south gate until they came to a lake.
“We turn east here,” said Bast.
“If my friend has come to any harm,” began Caramon hotly, “I’ll-”
The man in black turned, fixed him with his blue eyes. “No,” he said. “You won’t.”
Caramon didn’t argue.
It was midday when they reached the end of the planted lands, coming to a forest. They paused to observe the path that ran through the trees, the tracks of animals, and the leaves of previous winters scattered about. The smell of sap and flowers wafted among the scattered sunshine like a light perfume.
Raistlin walked forward, crushing branches under his heel. His brother followed, making more noise. Bast, however, padded after the twins without disturbing a blade of grass or leaf on the ground.
Suddenly the mage stopped and moved over to a tree. He bent down, studying the grass.-
“What is it?” Caramon asked.
Raistlin pulled a flower from the roots of the tree. He held it up for the others to see. “A black lily.”
Caramon sniffed at it and wrinkled his nose. “It smells like . . . death.”
The sorcerer nodded, holding the flower up for Bast to inspect. The man in black did not appear interested. Shrugging, Raistlin, holding the lily carefully in his hand, stepped off the path into the woods.
262
Buotfjens Majene
“This way,” he said. He glanced at Bast. “Right?”
“The decision is yours,” said Bast. “1 do not make use of this entrance. But you should, mage. You will find it … interesting.”
Raistlin’s eyes flickered. “What do you want of me?”
“Nothing. Everything. It all depends now, doesn’t it?”
The mage swept past the man in black and headed deeper into the forest. Following his brother, Caramon saw a carpet of darkness spread on the green floor, a path of black lilies. The mouth of a cave was visible in the distance—a circle of stones set in the shape of an animal’s paw.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” the fighter asked, starting forward.
The Staff of Magius swept out, rapping him lightly on the chest. “We will proceed with caution, my brother,” Raistlin said softly. “This is the tomb of a wizard!”
The three moved up the path slowly—the mage in front, then the fighter, then Bast. Though it was midday, the sun’s rays were blocked by the thick trees and the ancient stones and rocks. Chill air flowed from the cave’s entrance.