“We don’t have any choice. I know it’s not proper, but Pala-
dine will see that her soul journeys in peace. We don’t dare
build a funeral pyre, not with those dragonmen around -”
“But, Caramon, I really think you should come look at her!
There’s not a mark on her body!”
“I don’t want to look at her! She’s dead! It’s my fault! We’ll
bury her here, then I’ll go back to Solace, go back to digging
my own grave -”
“Caramon!”
“Go find some flowers and leave me be!”
Dalamar saw the big man tear up the moist dirt with his bare
hands, hurling it aside while tears streamed down his face. The
kender remained beside the woman’s body, irresolute, his face
covered with dried blood, his expression a mixture of grief and
doubt.
“No mark, no wound, draconians coming out of nowhere…”
Raistlin frowned thoughtfully. Then, suddenly, he knelt beside
the Live One, who shrank away from him. “Speak. Tell me eve-
rything. I must know. Why wasn’t I summoned earlier?”
“Th-the d-draco k-kill, M-master,” the Live One’s voice bub-
bled in agony. “B-but the b-big m-man k-kill, too. T-then b-big
d-dark c-come! E-eyes of f-fire. I-I s-scared. I-I f-fraid f-fall in
wa-water….”
“I found the Live One lying at the edge of the pool,” Dalamar
reported coolly, “when one of the others told me something
strange was going on. I looked into the water. Knowing of your
interest in this human female, I thought you -”
“Quite right,” Raistlin murmured, cutting off Dalamar’s
explanation impatiently. The mage’s golden eyes narrowed, his
thin lips compressed. Feeling his anger, the poor Live One
dragged its body as far from the mage as possible. Dalamar
held his breath. But Raistlin’s anger was not directed at them.
” ‘Big dark, eyes of fire’ – Lord Soth! So, my sister, you
betray me,” Raistlin whispered. “I smell your fear, Kitiara! You
coward! I could have made you queen of this world. I could
have given you wealth immeasurable, power unlimited. But
no. You are, after all, a weak and petty-minded worm!”
Raistlin stood quietly, pondering, staring into the still pond.
When he spoke next, his voice was soft, lethal. “I will not forget
this, my dear sister. You are fortunate that I have more urgent,
pressing matters at hand, or you would be residing with the
phantom lord who serves you!” Raistlin’s thin fist clenched,
then – with an obvious effort – he forced himself to relax. “But,
now, what to do about this? I must do something before my
brother plants the cleric in a flower bed!”
“Shalafi, what has happened?” Dalamar ventured, greatly
daring. “This – woman. What is she to you? I do not under-
stand.”
Raistlin glanced at Dalamar irritably and seemed about to
rebuke him for his impertinence. Then the mage hesitated. His
golden eyes flared once with a flash of inner light that made
Dalamar cringe, before returning to their flat, impassive stare.
“Of course, apprentice. You shall know everything. But
first -”
Raistlin stopped. Another figure had entered the scene in the
forest they watched so intently. It was a gully dwarf, bundled
in layers and layers of bright, gaudy clothing, a huge bag drag-
ging behind her as she walked.
“Bupu!” Raistlin whispered, the rare smile touching his lips.
“Excellent. Once more you shall serve me, little one.”
Reaching out his hand, Raistlin touched the still water. The
Live Ones around the pool cried out in horror, for they had
seen many of their own kind stumble into that dark water, only
to shrivel and wither and become nothing more than a wisp of
smoke, rising with a shriek into the air. But Raistlin simply
murmured soft words, then withdrew his hand. The fingers
were white as marble, a spasm of pain crossed his face. Hur-
riedly, he slid his hand into a pocket of his robe.
“Watch,” he whispered exultantly.
Dalamar stared into the water, watching the gully dwarf
approach the still, lifeless form of the woman.
“Me help.”
No, Bupu!”
“You no like my magic! Me go home. But first me help pretty
lady.”
“What in the name of the Abyss -” Dalamar muttered.