again.
“Paladine came to me in a dream -” she said haughtily.
Raistlin laughed.
Few there were who had ever heard the mage laugh, and
those who had heard it remembered it always, resounding
through their darkest dreams. It was thin, high-pitched, and
sharp as a blade. It denied all goodness, mocked everything
right and true, and it pierced Crysania’s soul.
“Very well,” Crysania said, staring at him with a disdain that
hardened her bright, gray eyes to steel blue, “I have done my
best to divert you from this course. I have given you fair warn-
ing. Your destruction is now in the hands of the gods.”
Suddenly, perhaps realizing the fearlessness with which she
confronted him, Raistlin’s laughter ceased. Regarding her
intently, his golden eyes narrowed. Then he smiled, a secret
inner smile of such strange joy that Astinus, watching the
exchange between the two, rose to his feet. The historian’s
body blocked the light of the fire. His shadow fell across them
both. Raistlin started, almost in alarm. Half-turning, he
regarded Astinus with a burning, menacing stare.
“Beware, old friend,” the mage warned, “or would you med-
dle with history?”
“I do not meddle,” Astinus replied, “as you well know. I am
an observer, a recorder. In all things, I am neutral. I know your
schemes, your plans as I know the schemes and plans of all who
draw breath this day. Therefore, hear me, Raistlin Majere, and
heed this warning. This one is beloved of the gods – as her
name implies.”
“Beloved of the gods? So are we all, are we not, Revered
Daughter?” Raistlin asked, turning to face Crysania once more.
His voice was soft as the velvet of his robes. “Is that not written
in the Disks of Mishakall Is that not what the godly Elistan
teaches?”
“Yes,” Crysania said slowly, regarding him with suspicion,
expecting more mockery. But his metallic face was serious, he
had the appearance, suddenly, of a scholar – intelligent, wise.
“So it is written.” She smiled coldly. “I am pleased to find you
have read the sacred Disks, though you obviously have not
learned from them. Do you not recall what is said in the -”
She was interrupted by Astinus, snorting.
“I have been kept from my studies long enough.” The histo-
rian crossed the marble floor to the door of the antechamber.
“Ring for Bertrem when you are ready to depart. Farewell,
Revered Daughter. Farewell… old friend.”
Astinus opened the door. The peaceful silence of the library
flowed into the room, bathing Crysania in refreshing coolness.
She felt herself in control and she relaxed. Her hand let loose of
the medallion. Formally and gracefully, she bowed her farewell
to Astinus, as did Raistlin. And then the door shut behind the
historian. The two were alone.
For long moments, neither spoke. Then Crysania, feeling
Paladine’s power flowing through her, turned to face Raistlin.
“I had forgotten that it was you and those with you who recov-
ered the sacred Disks. Of course, you would have read them. I
would like to discuss them with you further but, henceforth, in
any future dealings we might have, Raistlin Majere,” she said in
her cool voice, “I will ask you to speak of Elistan more respect-
fully. He -”
She stopped amazed, watching in alarm as the mage’s slender
body seemed to crumble before her eyes.
Wracked by spasms of coughing, clutching his chest, Raistlin
gasped for breath. He staggered. If it had not been for the staff
he leaned upon, he would have fallen to the floor. Forgetting
her aversion and her disgust, reacting instinctively, Crysania
reached out and, putting her hands upon his shoulders, mur-
mured a healing prayer. Beneath her hands, the black robes
were soft and warm. She could feel Raistlin’s muscles twisting
in spasms, sense his pain and suffering. Pity filled her heart.
Raistlin jerked away from her touch, shoving her to one side.
His coughing gradually eased. Able to breathe freely once
more, he regarded her with scorn.
“Do not waste your prayers on me, Revered Daughter,” he
said bitterly. Pulling a soft cloth from his robes, he dabbed his
lips and Crysania saw that it came away stained with blood.