“What did you see, Raistlin?” Tanis asked softly, after a long pause. “You looked far away-what did you see?”
“I am magi, Tanis, not a seer.”
“Don’t give me that,” Tanis snapped. “It’s been a long time, but not that long. I know you don’t have the gift of foresight. You were thinking, not scrying. And you came up with answers. I want those answers. You’ve got more brains than all of us put together, even if-” he stopped.
“Even if I am twisted and warped.” Raistlin’s voice rose with harsh arrogance. “Yes, I am smarter than you-all of you. And someday I will prove it! Someday you-with all your strength and charm and good looks-you-all of you, will call me master!” His hands clenched to fists inside his robes, his eyes flared red in the crimson moonlight. Tanis, who was accustomed to this tirade, waited patiently. The mage relaxed, his hands unclenched. “But for now, I give you my advice. What did I see? These armies, Tanis, armies of draconians, will overrun Solace and Haven and all the lands of your fathers. That is the reason we must reach Xak Tsaroth. What we find there will prove this army’s undoing.”
“But why are there armies?” Tanis asked. “What would anyone want with control of Solace and Haven and the Plains to the east? Is it the Seekers?”
“Seekers! Hah!” Raistlin snorted. “Open your eyes, Half-Elf. Someone or something powerful created these creatures-these draconians. Not the idiot Seekers. And no one goes to all that trouble to take over two farm cities or even to look for a blue crystal staff. This is a war of conquest, Tanis. Someone seeks to conquer Ansalon! Within two days time, life on Krynn as we have known it will come to an end. This is the portent of the fallen stars. The Queen of Darkness has returned. We face a foe who seeks-at the very least-to enslave us, or perhaps destroy us completely.”
“Your advice?” Tanis asked reluctantly. He felt change coming and, like all elves, he feared and detested change.
Raistlin smiled his crooked, bitter smile, reveling in his moment of superiority. “That we go to Xak Tsaroth immediately. That we leave tonight, if possible, by whatever means this Forestmaster has planned. If we do not acquire this gift within two days-the armies of draconians will.”
“What do you think the gift might be?” Tanis wondered aloud. “A sword or coins, like Caramon said?”
“My brother’s a fool,” Raistlin stated coldly. “You don’t believe that and neither do I.”
“Then what?” Tanis pursued.
Raistlin’s eyes narrowed. “I have given you my advice. Act upon it as you will. I have my own reasons for going. Let us leave it at that, Half-Elf. But it will be dangerous. Xak Tsaroth was abandoned three hundred years ago. I do not think it will have remained abandoned long.”
“That is true,” Tanis mused. He stood silently for long moments. The mage coughed once, softly. “Do you believe we were chosen, Raistlin?” Tanis asked.
The mage did not hesitate. “Yes. So I was given to know in the Towers of Sorcery. So Par-Salian told me.”
“But why?” Tanis questioned impatiently. “We are not the stuff of heroes-well, maybe Sturm-”
“Ah,” said Raistlin. “But who chose us? And for what purpose? Consider that, Tanis Half-Elven!”
The mage bowed to Tanis, mockingly, and turned to walk back through the brush to the rest of the group.
12
Winged sleep. Smoke in the east. Dark memories.
“Xak Tsaroth,” Tanis said. “That is my decision.”
“Is that what the mage advises?” Sturm asked sullenly.
“It is,” Tanis answered, “and I believe his advice is sound. If we do not reach Xak Tsaroth within two days, others will and this ‘greatest gift’ may be lost forever.”
“The greatest gift!” Tasslehoff said, his eyes shining. “Just think, Flint! Jewels beyond price! Or maybe-”
“A keg of ale and Otik’s fried potatoes,” the dwarf muttered. “And a nice warm fire. But no-Xak Tsaroth!”
“I guess we’re all in agreement, then,” Tanis said. “If you feel you are needed in the north, Sturm, of course you-”
“I will go with you to Xak Tsaroth.” Sturm sighed. “There is nothing in the north for me. I have been deluding myself. The Knights of my order are scattered, holed up in crumbling fortresses, fighting off the debt collectors.”