“Stay with him!” Tanis said unnecessarily. “I’m going to the Inn. I’ll bring Caramon!”
Flint looked up at him grimly, then glanced over at the Inn. Both could hear the yells of the draconians, see their weapons flash in the glare of the firelight. Occasionally an unnatural light flared from the Inn-Raistlin’s magic. The dwarf shook his head. He knew Tanis was about as capable of returning with Caramon as he was of flying.
But Flint managed to smile. “Sure, lad, I’ll stay with him. Farewell, Tanis.”
Tanis swallowed, tried to answer, then gave up and ran an down the street.
Raistlin, coughing until he could barely stand, wiped blood from his lips and drew a small, black leather pouch from the innermost packets of his robes. He had just one spell left and barely energy enough to cast it. Now, his hands shaking with fatigue, he tried to scatter the contents of the little pouch into a pitcher of wine he had ordered Caramon to bring him before the battle started. His hand trembled violently, and his coughing spasms doubled him over.
Then he felt another hand grasp his own. Looking up, he saw Laurana. She took the pouch from his frail fingers. Her own hand was stained with the dark green draconian blood.
‘What’s this?” she asked.
“Ingredients for a spell.” The mage choked. “Pour it into the wine.”
Laurana nodded and poured in the mixture as instructed. It vanished instantly.
“Don’t drink it,” the mage warned when the coughing spasm passed.
Laurana looked at him. “What is it?”
“A sleeping potion,” Raistlin whispered, his eyes glittering.
Laurana smiled wryly. “You don’t think we’re going to be able to get to sleep tonight?”
“Not that kind;” Raistlin answered, staring at her intently. “This one feigns death. The heartbeat slows to almost nothing, the breathing nearly stops, the skin grows cold and pale, the limbs stiffen.”
Laurana’s eyes. opened wide. “Why-” she began.
“To be used as a last resort. The enemy thinks you are dead, leaves you on the field-if you are lucky. If not-”
“If not?” she prompted, her face pale.
“Well, a few have been known to waken on their own funeral pyres.” Raistlin said coolly. “I don’t believe that is likely to happen to us, however.”
Breathing more easily, he sat down, ducking involuntarily as a spent arrow fluttered overhead and fell to the floor behind him. He saw Laurana’s hand tremble then and realized she was not as calm as she was forcing herself to appear.
“Are you intending that we take this?” she asked.
“It will save us from being tortured by draconians.”
“How do you know that?”
“Trust me,” the mage said with a slight smile.
Laurana glanced at him and shivered. Absently, she wiped blood-stained fingers on her leather armor. The blood did not come off, but she didn’t notice. An arrow thudded next to her. She didn’t even start, just stared at it dully.
Caramon appeared, stumbling out of the smoke of the burning common room. He was bleeding from an arrow wound in the shoulder, his own red blood mingling oddly with the green blood of his enemy.
“They’re breaking down the front door.” he said, breathing heavily. “Riverwind ordered us back here.”
“Listen!” Raistlin warned. “That’s not the only place they’re breaking in!” There was a splintering crash at the door leading from the kitchen to the back alley.
Ready to defend themselves, Caramon and Laurana whirled gust as the door shattered. A tall, dark figure entered.
“Tanis!” Laurana cried. Sheathing her weapon, she ran toward him.
“Laurana!” he breathed. Catching her in his arms, he held her close, nearly sobbing in his relief. Then Caramon flung his huge arms around both of them.
“How is everyone?” Tanis asked, when he could talk.
“So far, so good.” Caramon said, peering behind Tanis, His face fell when he saw he was alone. “Where’s-”
“Sturm’s lost.” Tanis said wearily. “Flint and Tas are across the street. The kender’s pinned under a beam. Gilthanas is about two blocks away. He’s hurt;” Tanis told Laurana, “not badly, but he couldn’t make it any farther.”
“Welcome, Tanis,” Raistlin whispered, coughing. “You have come in time to die with us.”
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