Dragons of Autumn Twilight by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman

“My father was determined I should not marry so far beneath my station. He sent Riverwind on an impossible quest-to find some object with holy properties that would prove the existence of these ancient gods. Of course, my father didn’t believe such an object existed. He hoped Riverwind would meet his death, or that I would come to love another.” She looked up at the tall warrior walking beside her and smiled. But his face was hard, his eyes staring far away. Her smile faded. Sighing, she continued her story, speaking softly, more to herself than Tanis.

“Riverwind was gone long years. And my life was empty. I sometimes thought my heart would die. Then, just a week ago, he returned. He was half-dead, out of his mind with a raging fever. He stumbled into camp and fell at my feet, his skin burning to the touch. In his hand, he clutched this staff. We had to pry his fingers loose. Even unconscious, he would not release it.

“He raved in his fever about a dark place, a broken city where death had black wings. Then, when he was nearly wild with fear and terror and the servants had to tie his arms to the bed, he remembered a woman, a woman dressed in blue light.

She came to him in the dark place, he said, and healed him and gave him the staff. When he remembered her, he grew calmer and his fever broke.

“Two days ago-” She paused, had it really been only two days? It seemed a lifetime! Sighing, she continued. “He presented the staff to my father, telling him it had been given to him by a goddess, though he did not know her name. My father looked at this staff” -Goldmoon held it up-“and commanded it to do something -anything. Nothing happened. He threw it back to Riverwind, proclaiming him a fraud, and ordered the people to stone him to death as punishment for his blasphemy!”

Goldmoon’s face grew pale as she spoke, Riverwind’s face dark and shadowed.

“The tribe bound Riverwind and dragged him to the Grieving Wall,” she said, barely speaking above a whisper. “They started hurling rocks. He looked at me with so much love and he shouted that not even death would separate us. I couldn’t bear the thought of living my life alone, without him. I ran to him. The rocks struck us-” Goldmoon put her hand to her forehead, wincing in remembered pain, and Tanis’s attention was drawn to a fresh, jagged scar on her tanned skin. “There was a blinding flash of light. When Riverwind and I could see again, we were standing on the road outside of Solace. The staff glowed blue, then dimmed and faded until it is as you see it now. It was then we determined to go to Haven and ask the wise men at the temple about the staff.”

“Riverwind,” Tanis asked, troubled, “what do you remember of this broken city? Where was it?”

Riverwind didn’t answer. He glanced at Tanis out of the corner of his dark eyes, and it was obvious his thoughts had been far away. Then he stared off into the shadowy trees.

“Tanis Half-Elven,” he finally said. “That is your name?”

“Among humans, that is what I am called,” Tanis answered. “My elvish name is long and difficult for humans to pronounce.”

Riverwind frowned. “Why is it,” he asked, “that you are called half-elf and not half-man?”

The question struck Tanis like a blow across the face. He could almost envision himself sprawling in the dirt and had to force himself to stop and swallow an angry retort. He knew Riverwind was asking this question for a reason. It had not been meant as an insult. This was a test, Tanis realized. He chose his words carefully.

“According to humans, half an elf is but part of a whole being. Half a man is a cripple.”

Riverwind considered this, finally nodded once, abruptly, and answered Tanis’s question.

“I wandered many long years,” he replied. “Often I had no idea where I was. I followed the sun and the moons and the stars. My last journey is like a dark dream.” He was silent for a moment. When he spoke, it was as if he were talking from some great distance. “It was a city once beautiful, with white buildings supported by tall columns of marble. But it is now as if some great hand had picked up the city and cast it down a mountainside. The city is now very old and very evil.”

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