‘The Cat Lord? If is it truly he, then he is a demi-god. How can I stand against one so powerful?” Raistlin asked.
“I didn’t tell you this before,” Shavas began, taking a deep breath, “but my ancestors collected several items of
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magic in their journeys. One of them is this broach of good fortune I wear”—she touched the golden necklace with the fire opal—”and the other is this.” Opening the drawer to the table, Shavas removed a triangular leather pouch that bulged in the center. “It is a weapon.”
Raistlin was not looking at the bag. He was staring at the necklace, thinking that it looked incomplete, unfinished. Why didn’t I notice that before? he asked himself.
Because you weren’t looking at the necklace, a mocking, inner voice answered.
Shavas opened the pouch, taking out a short wand. Raistlin glanced at it, saw that it was bent at one end, and fitted with a metal ring at the other. It was covered with runes and sigla. He did not touch it.
“How does it work?”
“I’m not certain. I’ve never used it. I’ve never had any need. But, I was told by my father that it takes our feelings and amplifies them a hundredfold. If you want to destroy an enemy, you have only to feel his destruction and point the wand at him, like this.”
She held the weapon by the bent end, pointing the tip at Raistlin.
The mage made no comment. He did not move.
Shavas, smiling and lowering her eyes, turned the wand around and handed it to him. Raistlin replaced it in the bag, then tucked the bag into his robes.
“Now, you can protect me,” Shavas said. “It is a powerful weapon. It can destroy even a demi-god.”
She leaned forward and her gown slipped, revealing her white bosom. The opal hung glittering from her soft neck. “And when this terrible nightdream is over, we will have time to ourselves.”
“You mean you and my brother will have time,” Raistlin said, sneering. Why did I say that? What is she doing to me? He snarled at himself inwardly. Remember! Remember what you have seen!
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“I admit it,” said Shavas, her fingers caressing the mage’s hand. “I … met with Caramon”—she blushed like a schoolgirl—”but it was only to make you jealous. You’re the one I want!”
Her voice was low and husky. There was a ring of truth to her last statement that startled Raistlin. He stared at her, entranced.
“I am wealthy, powerful! I could give you … so much! Do this one thing for me! Destroy the Lord of the Cats!”
Raistlin slowly removed his arm from the woman’s grasp. She let him go, sitting back in her chair. The mage stared down at the board, at the warrior of the dead who stood before his champion.
“From the way you speak, you sound as if you know where he is.”
“Not where he is, where he might be. Lord Cal is very efficient. We think the Cat Lord may be trapped in Le-man Square, east of the center of Southgate Street.”
“I have seen it,” the mage said, standing. “Shall I go there now, lady?”
“Yes!” she cried. “And if you succeed, come back to me . . . tonight.”
“Yes,” said Raistlin, gazing at her intently. “I will be back. Tonight.”
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CanaMON Maoe excelled r/Me, RUNNING at a steady pace up Southgate Street. The road was, for the most part, empty. Lord Cal and his guards were busy dispersing the people, attempting to restore order. Still, the warrior thought it best to keep to the shadows of twilight. He didn’t have time to beat off an enraged mob.
When he reached Barnstoke Hall, the place appeared deserted. He put his hand on the doorknob. It wouldn’t turn. The door was locked. He started to bang on it, demanding entrance, then realized the proprietor might not be exactly delighted to see him.
Well, I opened it once, he thought. I can do it again.
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Taking a deep breath, Caramon stepped back, then threw his weight into the door. It gave a little. Gathering himself together, rubbing his shoulder, he started to try again when a voice shrilled behind him.