Dragons of Autumn Twilight by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman

Raistlin drew a deep breath and continued. “When I awoke,” the mage said, “my skin had turned this color-a mark of my suffering. My body and my health are irretrievably shattered. And my eyes! I see through hourglass pupils and therefore I see time-as it affects all things. Even as I look at you now, Tanis,” the mage whispered, “I see you dying, slowly, by inches. And so I see every living thing.”

Raistlin’s thin, clawlike hand gripped Tanis’s arm. The half-elf shivered at the cold touch and started to pull away, but the golden eyes and the cold hand held him fast.

The mage leaned forward, his eyes glowing feverishly. “But I have power now!” he whispered. “Par-Salian told me the day would come when my strength would shape the world! I have power and”-he gestured-“the Staff of Magius.”

Tanis looked to see a staff leaning against the vallenwood trunk within easy reach of Raistlin’s hand. It was a plain wooden staff. A ball of bright crystal, clutched in a disembodied golden claw carved to resemble the talon of a dragon, gleamed at the top.

“Was it worth it?” Tanis asked quietly.

Raistlin stared at him, then his lips parted in a caricature of a grin. He withdrew his hand from Tanis’s arm and folded his arms in the sleeves of his robe. “Of course!” the mage hissed.

“Power is what I have long sought-and still seek.” He leaned back and his thin figure melted into the dark shadow until all Tanis could see were the golden eyes, glittering in the firelight.

“Ale,” said Flint, clearing his throat and licking his lips as if he would wash a bad taste out of his mouth. “Where is that kender? I suppose he stole the barmaid-”

“Here we are,” cried Tas’s cheerful voice. A tall, young, redhaired girl loomed behind him, carrying a tray of mugs.

Caramon grinned. “Now, Tanis,” he boomed, “guess who this is. You, too, Flint. If you win, I’ll buy this round.”

Glad to take his mind off Raistlin’s dark tale, Tanis stared at the laughing girl. Red hair curled around her face, her green eyes danced with fun, freckles were lightly smattered across her nose and cheeks. Tanis seemed to remember the eyes, but beyond that he was blank.

“I give up,” he said. “But then, to elves humans seem to change so rapidly that we lose track. I am one hundred and two, yet seem no more than thirty to you. And to me those hundred years seem as thirty. This young woman must have been a child when we left.”

“I was fourteen.” The girl laughed and set the tray down on the table. “And Caramon used to say I was so ugly my father would have to pay someone to marry me.”

“Tika!” Flint slammed his fist on the table. “You’re buying, you great oaf!” He pointed at Caramon.

“No fair!” The giant laughed. “She gave you a clue.”

“Well, the years have proved him wrong,” Tanis said, smiling. “I’ve traveled many roads and you’re one of the prettiest girls I’ve seen on Krynn.”

Tika blushed with pleasure. Then her face darkened. “By the way, Tanis”-she reached in her pocket and drew forth a cylindrical object-“this arrived for you today. Under strange circumstances.”

Tanis frowned and reached for the object. It was a small scrollcase made of black, highly polished wood. He slowly removed a thin piece of parchment and unrolled it. His heart thudded painfully at sight of the bold, black handwriting.

“It’s from Kitiara,” he said finally, knowing his voice sounded strained and unnatural. “She’s not coming.”

There was a moment’s silence. “That’s done it,” Flint said. “The circle is broken, the oath denied. Bad luck.” He shook his head. “Bad luck.”

3

Knight of Solamnia.

The old man’s party.

Raistlin leaned forward. He and Caramon exchanged glances as thoughts passed wordlessly between them. It was a rare moment, for only great personal difficulty or danger ever made the twins’ close kinship apparent. Kitiara was their older half-sister.

“Kitiara would not break her oath unless another, stronger oath bound her.” Raistlin spoke their thoughts aloud.

“What does she say?” Caramon asked.

Tanis hesitated, then licked his dry lips. “Her duties with her new lord keep her busy. She sends her regrets and best wishes to all of us and her love-” Tanis felt his throat constrict. He coughed. “Her love to her brothers and to-” He paused, then foiled up the parchment. “That’s all.”

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