Thinking of the journey as he walked, Tanis looked up into the night sky. It was beautiful, glittering with stars. But two gaping black holes marred the beauty. Raistlin’s missing constellations.
Holes in the sky. Holes in himself.
After his fight with Laurana, Tanis was almost glad to start on the journey. All the companions had agreed tar go. Tanis knew that none of them felt truly at home among the refugees.
Preparations for the journey gave him plenty to think about. He was able to tell himself he didn’t care that Laurana avoided him. .end, at the beginnings the journey itself ways enjoyable. It seemed as if they were back in the early days of fall instead of the beginning of winter. The sun shone, warming the air. Only Raistlin wore his heaviest cloak.
Conversation as the companions walked through the northern part of the Plains was light-hearted and merry, filled with teasing and bantering and reminding each other of the fun they had shared in earlier, happier days in Solace. No one spoke of the dark and evil things they had seen in the recent past. It was as if, in the contemplation of a brighter future, they willed these things never to have existed.
At night, Elistan explained to them what he was learning of the ancient gods from the Disks of Mishakal, which he carried with him. His stories filled their souls with peace and reinforced their faith. Even Tanis, who had spent a lifetime searching for something to believe in and now that they had found it viewed it with skepticism, felt deep in his soul that he could believe in this if he believed in anything. He wanted to believe in it, but something held him back, and every time he looked at Laurana, he knew what it was. Until he could resolve his own inner turmoil, the raging division between the elven and human inside of him, he would never know peace.
Only Raistlin did not share in the conversations, the merriment, the pranks and jokes, the campfire talks. The mage spent his days studying his spellbook. If interrupted, he would answer with a snarl. After dinner, of which he ate little, he sat by himself, his eyes on the night sky, staring at the two gaping black holes that were mirrored in the mage’s black hourglass shaped pupils.
It was only after several days that spirits began to flag. The sun was obscured by clouds and the wind blew chill from the north. Snow fell so thickly that one day they could not travel at all but were forced to seek shelter in a cave until the blizzard blew itself out. They set double watch at night, though no one could say exactly why, only that they felt a growing sense of threat and menace. Riverwind stared uneasily at the trail they left in the snow behind them. As Flint said, a blind gully dwarf could follow it. The sense of menace grew, the sense of eyes watching and ears listening.
Yet who could it be, out here in the Plains of Dust whew nothing and no one had lived for three hundred years?
Chapter 2
Between master and dragon. Dismal journey.
The dragon sighed, flexed his huge wings, and lifted his ponderous body from the warm, soothing waters of the hot springs. Emerging from a billowing cloud of vapor, he braced himself to step into the chill air. The clear winter air stung his delicate nostrils and bit into his throat. Swallowing painfully, he firmly resisted the temptation to return do the warm pools and began to climb to the high rocky ledge above him.
The dragon stamped irritably upon rocks slick with ice from the hot springs’ vapor, which cooled almost instantly in the freezing air. The stones cracked and broke beneath his clawed feet, bounding and tumbling down into the valley below.
Once he slipped, causing him momentarily to lose his balance. Spreading his great wings, he recovered easily, but the incident only served to increase his irritation further.
The morning sun lit the mountain peaks, touching the dragon, causing his blue scales to shimmer golden in the clear light but doing little to warm his blood. The dragon shivered again, stamping his feet upon the chill ground. Winter was not for the blue dragons, nor was travel in this abysmal country. With that thought in mind, as it had been in his mind all the long, bitter night, Skie looked about for his master.
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