“Take my father and Riverwind inside. Healer, attend to the son of Wanderer.” The litter bearers, their burdens, and the healer went into the house. Loreman cleared his throat, halting Goldmoon before she could follow.
“What?” she asked coldly.
“Riverwind has returned. Does he admit defeat in his quest?” said Loreman.
“Not at all. He has triumphed.”
“Where then is the proof of the old, dead gods?”
She thrust the staff out at him. “Here! Riverwind brings this, the sacred staff of the goddess Mishakal.”
Loreman smiled. “An impressive piece of wood,” he said sarcastically.
“I will speak with Riverwind and learn more,” Goldmoon said. “You need not concern yourself.”
“Heresy always concerns me.”
“Enough! I am needed within.” She swept past Loreman, attempting to hide her loathing.
She went to Riverwind's side. A screen of hides had been hung around his bed for privacy. Goldmoon slipped in and dismissed the healer. When they were alone, she kissed him.
His face was wet.
“Are those your tears or mine?” she said, sniffing.
“Ours,” he said, his voice like a sigh.
“Loreman asked if you had failed in your quest. I said you hadn't. How can we prove it, beloved?”
Riverwind coughed raggedly. Goldmoon lit a stick of curative incense by his bed. The aromatic smoke drifted over the room. There was something about the smoke that struck a chord in him, a place he'd seen, a person he'd known. Gold-moon looked down at him tenderly. He put a hardened hand to her soft cheek. “The staff is a sliver from the throne of the goddess,” he explained. “Made of sapphire. It is disguised as wood, but will show its true nature when needed. The goddess herself gave it to me. She said I was to give it to you.”
Goldmoon's eyes widened and she gasped. “To me? Why? What shall I do with it?”
“Heal the sick. Repel evil. Perhaps even raise the dead.”
Goldmoon regarded the crude wooden stave with awe. So much power-could she wield it justly?
Even as the thought crossed her mind, the handworn wood began to glow. In a heartbeat, the rod lying across Goldmoon's lap became a fiercely glowing scepter. The chieftain's daughter felt the presence of the goddess, knew the Tightness of her holding the crystal staff. Riverwind grasped the staff also, and the sky-blue aura passed up his arm to envelop him.
“I don't remember much of what happened to me,” Riverwind said. “There was great hardship and an evil place where death rode on black wings. I know that people died, good people, like the old soothsayer, Catchstar. There was a girl-a woman, I think-who saved my life. It's all so blurred and confused.” He looked into her eyes. “But throughout my trials, the one truth I held firm was you. Your love always broke through the veils cast around me. It saved more than my life. It saved my soul.”
Goldmoon couldn't speak through her tears, but her hand on Riverwind's face was soft and warm.
The divine glow penetrated and healed Riverwind's fever-plagued body. When it finally dimmed and receded, he lifted his arms and embraced the woman he loved.