Then Berem quit. His shoulders sagged. He stood staring out into the swirling depths, ignoring Maquesta, ignoring Koraf. His face was calm, Tanis saw; the same calm Tanis remembered seeing on Berem’s face at Pax Tharkas when he took Eben’s hand and ran with him into that deadly wall of cascading boulders. The green jewel in his chest glowed with an eerie light, reflecting the blood red of the water.
Tanis felt a strong hand clutch his shoulder, shaking him out of his rapt horror.
“Tanis! Where’s Raistlin?”
Tanis turned. For a moment he stared at Caramon without recognition, then he shrugged.
“What does it matter?” he muttered bitterly. “Let him die where he chooses—”
“Tanis!” Caramon took him by the shoulders and shook him. “Tanis! The dragon orb! His magic! Maybe it can help—”
Tanis came awake. “By all the gods! You’re right, Caramon!”
The half-elf looked around swiftly, but he saw no sign of the mage. A cold chill crept over him. Raistlin was capable either of helping them or of helping himself! Dimly Tanis remembered the elven princess, Alhana, saying the dragon orbs had been imbued by their magical creators with a strong sense of self-preservation.
“Below!” Tanis yelled. Leaping for the hatch, he heard Caramon pounding along behind.
“What is it?” called Riverwind from the rail.
Tanis shouted over his shoulder. “Raistlin. The dragon orb. Don’t come. Let Caramon and I handle this. You stay here, with them.”
“Caramon—” Tika yelled, starting to run after until Riverwind caught her and held her. Giving the warrior an anguished look, she fell silent, slumping back against the rail.
Caramon did not notice. He plunged ahead of Tanis, his huge body moving remarkably fast. Tumbling down the stairway below decks after him, Tanis saw the door to Maquesta’s cabin open, swinging on its hinges with the motion of the ship. The half-elf dashed in and came to a sudden stop, just inside the door, as if he had run headlong into a wall.
Raistlin stood in the center of the small cabin. He had lit a candle in a lamp clamped to the bulkheads. The flame made the mage’s face glisten like a metal mask, his eyes flared with golden fire. In his hands, Raistlin held the dragon orb, their prize from Silvanesti. It had grown, Tanis saw. It was now the size of child’s ball, a myriad of colors swirling within it. Tanis grew dizzy watching and wrenched his gaze away.
In front of Raistlin stood Caramon, the big warrior’s face as white as Tanis had seen his corpse in the Silvanesti dream when the warrior lay dead at his feet.
Raistlin coughed, clutching at his chest with one hand. Tanis started forward, but the mage looked up quickly.
“Don’t come near me, Tanis!” Raistlin gasped through bloodstained lips.
“What are you doing?”
“I am fleeing certain death, Half-Elf!” The mage laughed unpleasantly, the strange laughter Tanis had heard only twice before. “What do you think I am doing?”
“How?” Tanis asked, feeling a strange fear creep over him as he looked into the mage’s golden eyes and saw them reflect the swirling light of the orb.
“Using my magic. And the magic of the dragon orb. It is quite simple, though probably beyond your weak mind. I now have the power to harness the energy of my corporeal body and the energy of my spirit into one. I will become pure energy—light, if you want to think of it that way. And, becoming light, I can travel through the heavens like the rays of the sun, returning to this physical world whenever and wherever I choose!”
Tanis shook his head. Raistlin was right—the thought was beyond him. He could not grasp it, but hope sprang into his heart.
“Can the orb do this for all of us?” he demanded,
“Possibly,” Raistlin answered, coughing, “but I am not certain. I will not chance it. I know I can escape. The others are not my concern. You led them into this blood-red death, Half-Elf. You get them out!”
Anger surged through Tanis, replacing his fear. “At least, your brother—” he began hotly.
“No one,” Raistlin said, his eyes narrowing. “Stand back.”
Insane, desperate rage twisted Tanis’s mind. Somehow he’d make Raistlin listen to reason! Somehow they would all use this strange magic to escape! Tanis knew enough about magic to realize that Raistlin dared not cast a spell now. He would need all his strength to control the dragon orb. Tanis started forward, then saw silver flash in the mage’s hand. From nowhere—seemingly—had come a small silver dagger, long concealed on the mage’s wrist by a cunningly-designed leather thong. Tanis stopped, his eyes meeting Raistlin’s.
“All right,” Tanis said, breathing heavily. “You’d kill me without a second thought. But you won’t harm your brother. Caramon, stop him!”
Caramon took a step toward his twin. Raistlin raised the silver dagger warningly.
“Don’t do it, my brother,” he said softly. “Come no closer.”
Caramon hesitated.
“Go ahead, Caramon!” Tanis said firmly. “He won’t hurt you.”
“Tell him, Caramon,” Raistlin whispered. The mage’s eyes never left his brother’s. Their hourglass pupils dilated, the golden light flickered dangerously. “Tell Tanis what I am capable of doing. You remember. So do I. It is in our thoughts every time we look at one another, isn’t it, my dear brother?”
“What’s he talking about?” Tanis demanded, only half listening. If he could distract Raistlin... jump him...
Caramon blanched. “The Towers of High Sorcery...” He faltered. “But we are forbidden to speak of it! Par-Salian said—”
“That doesn’t matter now,” Raistlin interrupted in his shattered voice. “There is nothing Par-Salian can do to me. Once I have what has been promised me, not even the great Par-Salian will have the power to face me! But that’s none of your concern. This is.”
Raistlin drew a deep breath, then began to speak, his strange eyes still on his twin. Only half-listening, Tanis crept closer, his heart pounding in his throat. One swift movement and the frail mage would crumble.... Then Tanis found himself caught and held by Raistlin’s voice, compelled to stop for a moment and listen, almost as if Raistlin was weaving a spell around him.
“The last test in the Tower of High Sorcery, Tanis, was against myself. And I failed. I killed him, Tanis. I killed my brother"—Raistlin’s voice was calm—“or at least I thought it was Caramon.” The mage shrugged. “As it turned out, it was an illusion created to teach me to learn the depths of my hatred and jealousy. Thus they thought to purge my soul of darkness. What I truly learned was that I lacked self-control. Still, since it was not part of the true Test, my failure did not count against me—except with one person.”
“I watched him kill me!” Caramon cried wretchedly. “They made me watch so that I would understand him!” The big man’s head dropped in his hands, his body convulsed with a shudder. “I do understand!” he sobbed. “I understood then! I’m sorry! Just don’t go without me, Raist! You’re so weak! You need me—”
“No longer, Caramon,” Raistlin whispered with a soft sigh. “I need you no longer!”
Tanis stared at them both, sick with horror. He couldn’t believe this! Not even of Raistlin! “Caramon, go ahead!” he commanded hoarsely.
“Don’t make him come near me, Tanis,” Raistlin said, his voice gentle, as if he read the half-elf’s thoughts. “I assure you—I am capable of this. What I have sought all my life is within my grasp. I will let nothing stop me. Look at Caramon’s face, Tanis. He knows! I killed him once. I can do it again. Farewell, my brother.”