Then Tanis heard Raistlin sigh softly.
“I am tired, Caramon.” The mage coughed, then drew a wheezing breath. “And there is still much to be done before this nightmare is ended, before the three moons set.” Raistlin extended his thin arm. “I need your help, brother.”
Tanis heard Caramon heave a shuddering sob. The big man ran into the room, his sword clanking at his thigh. Reaching his brother, he put his arm around him.
Raistlin leaned on Caramon’s strong arm. Together, the twins walked down the cold hallway and through the shattered wall toward the room where Tanis had seen the green light and the dragon. His heart heavy with foreboding, Tanis followed them.
The three entered the audience room of the Tower of the Stars. Tanis looked at it curiously. He had heard of its beauty all his life. The Tower of the Sun in Qualinost had been built in remembrance of this Tower-the Tower of the Stars. The two were alike, yet not alike. One was filled with light, one filled with darkness. He stared around. The Tower soared above him in marble spirals that shimmered with a pearly radiance. It had been built to collect moonlight, as the Tower of the Sun collected sunlight. Windows carved into the Tower were faceted with gems that caught and magnified the light of the two moons, Solinari and Lunitari, making red and silver moonbeams dance in the chamber. But now the gems were broken. The moonlight that filtered in was distorted, the silver turning to the pale white of a corpse, the red to blood.
Tanis, shivering, looked straight up to the top. In Qualinost, there were murals on the ceiling, portraying the sun, the constellations, and the two moons. But here there was nothing but a carved hole in the top of the Tower. Through the hole, he could see only empty blackness. The stars did not shine. It was as if a perfectly round, black sphere had appeared in the starry darkness. Before he could ponder what this portended, he heard Raistlin speak softly, and he turned.
There, in the shadows at the front of the audience chamber was Alhana’s father, Lorac, the elfking. His shrunken and cadaverous body almost disappeared in a huge stone throne, fancifully carved with birds and animals. It must once have been beautiful, but now the animals’ heads were skulls.
Lorac sat motionless, his head thrown back, his mouth wide in a silent scream. His hand rested upon a round crystal globe.
“Is he alive?” Tanis asked in horror.
“Yes,” Raistlin answered, “undoubtedly to his sorrow.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He is living a nightmare,” Raistlin answered, pointing to Lorac’s hand. “There is the dragon orb. Apparently he tried to take control of it. He was not strong enough, so the orb seized control of him. The orb called Cyan Bloodbane here to guard Silvanesti, and the dragon decided to destroy it by whispering nightmares into Lorac’s ear. Lorac’s belief in the nightmare was so strong, his empathy with his land so great, that the nightmare became reality. Thus, it was his dream we were living when we entered. His dream-and our own. For we too came under the dragons control when we stepped into Silvanesti.”
“You knew we faced this!” Tanis accused, grabbing Raistlin by the shoulder and spinning him around. “You knew what we were walking into, there on the shores of the river-”
“Tanis,” Caramon said warningly, removing the half-elf’s hand. “Leave him alone.”
“Perhaps,” Raistlin said, rubbing his shoulder, his eyes narrow. “Perhaps not. I need not reveal my knowledge or its source to you!”
Before he could reply, Tanis heard a moan. It sounded as if it came from the base of the throne. Casting Raistlin an angry glance, Tanis turned quickly from him and stared into the shadows. Warily he approached, his sword drawn.
“Alhana!” The elfmaid crouched at her father’s feet, her head in his lap, weeping. She did not seem to hear Tanis. He went to her. “Alhana.” he said gently.
She looked up at him without recognition.
“Alhana.” he said again.
She blinked, then shuddered, and grabbed hold of his hand as if clutching at reality.
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