Tanis hesitated. Elven warriors hovered on the fringe of the clearing. They surged forward to attack, but Raistlin raised his hand, and they stopped as though crashing against an unseen wall.
“Come to stand near me.” The companions were astonished to hear Raistlin speak-for the first time since his Tests-in a normal voice. “Hurry.” he added, “they will not attack now. They fear me. But I cannot hold them back long.”
Tanis came forward, his face pale beneath the red beard, blood dribbling from a wound on his head. Goldmoon helped Caramon stagger forward. He clutched his bleeding arm as his face was twisted in pain. Slowly, one by one, the other companions crept forward. Finally, only Sturm stood outside the circle.
“I always knew it would come to this.” the knight said slowly. “I will die before I place myself under your protection, Raistlin.”
And with that, the knight turned and walked deeper into the forest. Tanis saw the leader of the elven undead make a gesture, detailing some of his ghastly band to follow. The half-elf started after, then stopped as he felt a surprisingly strong hand grip his arm.
“Let him go,” the mage said sternly, “or we are all lost. I have information to impart and my time is limited. We must make our way through this forest to the Tower of the Stars. We must walk the way of death, for every hideous creature ever conceived in the twisted, tortured dreams of mortals will arose to stop us. But know this-we walk in a dream, Lorac’s nightmare. And our own nightmares as well. Visions of the future can arise to help us-or hinder. Remember, that though our bodies are awake, our minds sleep. Death exists only in our minds-unless we believe otherwise.”
“Then why can’t we wake up?” Tanis demanded angrily.
“Because Lorac’s belief in the dream is too strong and your belief too weak. When you are firmly convinced, beyond doubt, that this is a dream; you will return to reality.”
“If this is true,” Tanis said, “and you’re convinced it is a dream, why don’t you awaken?”
“Perhaps.” Raistlin said, smiling, “I choose not to.”
“I don’t understand!” Tanis cried in bitter frustration.
“You will,” Raistlin predicted grimly, “or you will die. In which case, it won’t matter.”
Chapter I0
Waking dreams. Future visions.
Ignoring the horrified stares of his companions, Raistlin walked to his brother, who stand clutching his bleeding arm.
“I will take care of him,” Raistlin said to Goldmoon, putting his own black-robed arm around his twin.
“No,” Caramon gasped, “you’re not strong en-“His voice died as he felt his brothers arm support him..
“I am strong enough now, -Caramon.” Raistlin said gently, his very gentleness sending a shiver through the warrior’s body. “Lean on me, my brother.”
Weak from pain and fear, for the first time in his life Caramon leaned on Raistlin. The mage supported him as, together, they starting walking through the hideous forest.
“What’s happening, Raist?” Caramon asked, choking. “Why do you wear the Black Robes? And your voice-”
“Save your breath, my brother.” Raistlin advised softly.
The two traveled deeper into the forest, and the undead elven warriors stared menacingly at them from the trees. They could see the hatred the dead bear the living, see it flicker in the hollow eye sockets of the undead warriors. But none dared attack the black-robed mage. Caramon felt his life’s blood well thick and warm from between his fingers. As he watched it drip upon the dead, slime-coated leaves beneath his feet, he grew weaker and weaker. He had the fevered impression that the black shadow of himself gained in strength even as he lost it.
Tanis hurried through the forest, searching for Sturm. He found him fighting off a group of shimmering elven warriors.
“It’s a dream.” Tanis shouted to Sturm, who stabbed and slashed at the undead creatures. Every time he struck one, it vanished, only to reappear once more. The half-elf drew his sword, running to fight at Sturm’s side.
“Bah!” the knight grunted, then gasped in pain as an arrow thudded into his arm. The wound was not deep, because the chain mail protected him, but, it bled freely. “Is this dreaming?” Sturm said, yanking out the blood-stained shaft.
Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127