sent, in part, to prepare the world to face her coming and give it the strength to defy her—”
“So you murdered him!” Caramon interrupted hoarsely.
“I told him to get the device”—Raistlin bit the words—“I taught him how to use it, and I sent him home!”
Caramon blinked. “You did?” he asked suspiciously.
Raistlin sighed and laid his head back into the cushions of the chair. “I did, but I don’t expect you to believe me, my brother.” His hands plucked feebly at the black robes he wore. “Why should you, after all?”
“You know,” said Crysania softly, “I seem to remember, in those last horrible moments before the earthquake struck, seeing Tasslehoff. He … he was with me … in the Sacred Chamber.…”
She saw Raistlin open his eyes a slit. His glittering gaze pierced her heart and startled her, distracting her thoughts for a moment.
“Go on,” Caramon urged.
“I—I remember … he had the magical device. At least I think he did. He said something about it.” Crysania put her hand to her forehead. “But I can’t think what it was. It-it’s all so dreadful and confused. But—I’m certain he said he had the device!”
Raistlin smiled slightly. “Surely, you will believe Lady Crysania, my brother?” He shrugged. “A cleric of Paladine will not lie.”
“So Tasslehoff’s home? Right now?” Caramon said, trying to assimilate this startling information. “And, when I go back, I’ll find him—”
“—safe and sound and loaded down with most of your personal possessions,” Raistlin finished wryly. “But, now, we must turn our attention to more pressing matters. You are right, my brother. We need food and warm clothing, and we are not likely to find either here. The time we have come forward to is about one hundred years after the Cataclysm. This Tower”—he waved his hand—“has been deserted all those years. It is now guarded by the creatures of darkness called forth by the curse of the magic-user whose body is still impaled upon the spikes of the gates below us. The Shoikan Grove has grown up around it, and there are none on Krynn who dare enter.
“None except myself, of course. No, no one can get inside. But the guardians will not prevent one of us—you, my brother, for example—from leaving. You will go into Palanthas and buy food and clothing. I could produce it with my magic, but I dare not expend any unnecessary energy between now and when I—that is Crysania and I—enter the Portal.”
Caramon’s eyes widened. His gaze went to the soot-blackened window, his thoughts to the horrifying stories of the Shoikan Grove beyond.
“I will give you a charm to guard you, my brother,” Raistlin added in exasperation, seeing the frightened look on Caramon’s face. “A charm will be necessary, in fact, but not to aid your way through the Grove. It is far more dangerous in here. The guardians obey me, but they hunger for your blood. Do not set foot outside this room without me. Remember that. You, too, Lady Crysania.”
“Where is this … this Portal?” Caramon asked abruptly.
“In the laboratory, above us, at the top of the Tower,” Raistlin replied. “The Portals were kept in the most secure place the wizards could devise because, as you can imagine, they are extremely dangerous!”
“It’s like wizards to go tampering with what they should best leave alone,” Caramon growled. “Why in the name of thegods did they create a gateway to the Abyss?”
Placing the tips of his fingers together, Raistlin stared into the fire, speaking to the flames as if they were the only ones with the power to understand him.
“In the hunger for knowledge, many things are created. Some are good, that benefit us all. A sword in your hands, Caramon, champions the cause of righteousness and truth and protects the innocent. But a sword in the hands of, say, our beloved sister, Kitiara, would split the heads of the innocent wide open if it suited her. Is this
“So you murdered him!” Caramon interrupted hoarsely.
“I told him to get the device”—Raistlin bit the words—“I taught him how to use it, and I sent him home!”
Caramon blinked. “You did?” he asked suspiciously.
Raistlin sighed and laid his head back into the cushions of the chair. “I did, but I don’t expect you to believe me, my brother.” His hands plucked feebly at the black robes he wore. “Why should you, after all?”
“You know,” said Crysania softly, “I seem to remember, in those last horrible moments before the earthquake struck, seeing Tasslehoff. He … he was with me … in the Sacred Chamber.…”
She saw Raistlin open his eyes a slit. His glittering gaze pierced her heart and startled her, distracting her thoughts for a moment.
“Go on,” Caramon urged.
“I—I remember … he had the magical device. At least I think he did. He said something about it.” Crysania put her hand to her forehead. “But I can’t think what it was. It-it’s all so dreadful and confused. But—I’m certain he said he had the device!”
Raistlin smiled slightly. “Surely, you will believe Lady Crysania, my brother?” He shrugged. “A cleric of Paladine will not lie.”
“So Tasslehoff’s home? Right now?” Caramon said, trying to assimilate this startling information. “And, when I go back, I’ll find him—”
“—safe and sound and loaded down with most of your personal possessions,” Raistlin finished wryly. “But, now, we must turn our attention to more pressing matters. You are right, my brother. We need food and warm clothing, and we are not likely to find either here. The time we have come forward to is about one hundred years after the Cataclysm. This Tower”—he waved his hand—“has been deserted all those years. It is now guarded by the creatures of darkness called forth by the curse of the magic-user whose body is still impaled upon the spikes of the gates below us. The Shoikan Grove has grown up around it, and there are none on Krynn who dare enter.
“None except myself, of course. No, no one can get inside. But the guardians will not prevent one of us—you, my brother, for example—from leaving. You will go into Palanthas and buy food and clothing. I could produce it with my magic, but I dare not expend any unnecessary energy between now and when I—that is Crysania and I—enter the Portal.”
Caramon’s eyes widened. His gaze went to the soot-blackened window, his thoughts to the horrifying stories of the Shoikan Grove beyond.
“I will give you a charm to guard you, my brother,” Raistlin added in exasperation, seeing the frightened look on Caramon’s face. “A charm will be necessary, in fact, but not to aid your way through the Grove. It is far more dangerous in here. The guardians obey me, but they hunger for your blood. Do not set foot outside this room without me. Remember that. You, too, Lady Crysania.”
“Where is this … this Portal?” Caramon asked abruptly.
“In the laboratory, above us, at the top of the Tower,” Raistlin replied. “The Portals were kept in the most secure place the wizards could devise because, as you can imagine, they are extremely dangerous!”
“It’s like wizards to go tampering with what they should best leave alone,” Caramon growled. “Why in the name of thegods did they create a gateway to the Abyss?”
Placing the tips of his fingers together, Raistlin stared into the fire, speaking to the flames as if they were the only ones with the power to understand him.
“In the hunger for knowledge, many things are created. Some are good, that benefit us all. A sword in your hands, Caramon, champions the cause of righteousness and truth and protects the innocent. But a sword in the hands of, say, our beloved sister, Kitiara, would split the heads of the innocent wide open if it suited her. Is this
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