Dragons of Winter Noght by Weis, Margaret

Tanis fell to the floor, knowing his death was fixed. Clasping the small golden ring firmly in his hand, he waited to die.

Then he heard the mage chanting strange and powerful words. He heard the dragon roar in rage. The two were battling, but Tanis didn’t care. With eyes closed fast, he blotted out the sounds around him, blotted out life. Only one thing remained real. The golden ring he held tightly in his hand.

Suddenly Tanis became acutely conscious of the ring pressing into his palm: the metal was cool, its edges rough. He could feel the golden twisted ivy leaves bite into his flesh.

Tanis closed his hand, squeezing the ring. The gold bit into his flesh, bit deeply. Pain . . . real pain . . .

I am dreaming!

Tanis opened his eyes. Solinari’s silver moonlight flooded the Tower, mingled with the red beams of Lunitari. He was lying on a cold, marble floor. His hand was clasped tightly, so tightly that pain had wakened him. Pain? The ring. The dream! Remembering the dream, Tanis sat up in terror and looked around. But the hall was empty except for one other person. Raistlin slumped against a wall, coughing.

The half-elf staggered to his feet and walked shakily toward Raistlin. As he drew nearer, he could see blood on the mage’s lips. The blood gleamed red in Lunitari’s light-as red as the robes that covered Raistlin’s frail., shivering body.

The dream.

Tanis opened his hand. It was empty.

Chapter 10

The Dream ends. The Nightmare begins.

The half-elf stared around the hallway. It was as empty as his hand. The bodies of his friends were gone. The dragon was gone. Wind blew through a shattered wall, fluttering Waistline’s red robes about him, scattering dead aspen leaves along the floor. The half-elf walked over to Raistlin, catching the young mage in his arms as he collapsed.

“Where are they?” Tanis asked, shaking Raistlin. “Laurana? Sturm? And the others, your brother? Are they dead?” He glanced around. “And the dragon-”

“The dragon is gone. The orb sent the dragon away when it realized it could not defeat me.” Pushing himself from Tanis’s grasp, Raistlin stood alone, huddled against the marble wall. “It could not defeat me as I was. A child could defeat me now.” he said bitterly. “As for the others”-he shrugged-“I do not know.” He turned his strange eyes on Tanis. “You lived, half-elf, because your love was strong. I lived because of my ambition. We clung to reality in the midst of the nightmare. Who can say with the others?”

“Caramon’s alive, then.” Tanis said. “Because of his love. With his last breath, he begged me to spare your life. Tell me, mage, was this future you say we saw irreversible?”

“Why ask?” Raistlin said wearily. “Would you kill me, Tanis? Now?”

“I don’t know,” Tanis said softly, thinking of Caramon’s dying words. “Perhaps.”

Raistlin smiled bitterly. “Save your energy.” he said. “The future changes as we stand here, else we are the game pieces of the gods, not their heirs, as we have been promised. But,” the mage pushed himself away from the wall-“this is far from over. We must find Lorac-and the dragon orb.”

Raistlin shuffled down the hall, leaning heavily upon the Staff of Magius, its crystal lighting the darkness now that the green light had died.

Green light. Tanis stood in the hallway, lost in confusion, trying to wake up, trying to separate the dream from reality for the dream seemed much more real than any of this did now. He stared at the shattered wall. Surely there had been a dragon? And a blinding green light at the end of the corridor? But the hallway was dark. Night had fallen. It had been morning when they started. The moons had not been up, yet now they were full. How many nights had passed? How many days?

Then Tanis heard a booming voice at other end of the corridor, near the doorway.

“Raist!”

The mage stopped, his shoulder slumped. Then he turned slowly. “My brother,” he whispered.

Caramon-alive and apparently uninjured-stood in the doorway, outlined against the starry night. He stared at his twin.