There had been times of trouble, too. Lorac was one of the few still living on Krynn to remember the Cataclysm. But the Silvanesti elves had survived it far better than others in the world-being estranged from other races. They knew why the ancient G.o.ds left Krynn-they saw the evil in humankind-although they could not explain why the elven clerics vanished as well.

The elves of Silvanesti heard, of course, via the winds and birds and other mysterious ways, of the sufferings of their cousins, the Qualinesti, following the Cataclysm. And, though grieved at the tales of rapine and murder, the Silvanesti asked themselves what could one expect, living among humans? They withdrew into their forest, renouncing the outside world and caring little that the outside world renounced them.

Thus Lorac had found it impossible to understand this new evil sweeping out of the north, threatening his homeland. Why should they bother the Silvanesti? He met with the Dragon Highlords, explaining to them that the Silvanesti would give them no trouble. The elves believed everyone had the right to live upon Krynn, each in his own unique fashion, evil and good. He talked and they listened and, at first, all seemed well. Then the day came when Lorac realized he had been deceived-the day the skies erupted with dragons.

The elves were not, after all, caught unprepared. Lorac had lived too long for that. Ships waited to take the people to safety. Lorac ordered them to depart under his daughter's command. Then, when he was alone, he descended to the chambers beneath the Tower of the Stars where he had secreted the dragon orb.

Only his daughter and the long-lost elven clerics knew of the orb's existence. All others in the world believed it destroyed in the Cataclysm. Lorac sat beside it, staring at it for long days. He recalled the warnings of the High Mages, bringing to mind everything he could remember about the orb. Finally, though fully aware that he had no idea how it worked, Lorac decided he had to use it to try and save his land.

He remembered the globe vividly, remembered it burning with a swirling, fascinating green light that pulsed and strengthened as he looked at it. And he remembered knowing, almost from the first seconds he had rested his fingers on the globe, that he had made a terrible mistake. He had neither the strength nor the control to command the magic. But by then, it was too late. The orb had captured him and held him enthralled, and it had been the most hideous part of his nightmare to be constantly reminded that he was was dreaming, yet unable to break free. dreaming, yet unable to break free.

And now the nightmare had become waking reality. Lorac bowed his head, tasting bitter tears in his mouth. Then he felt gentle hands upon his shoulders.

"Father, I cannot bear to see you weep. Come away from the window. Come to bed. The land will be beautiful once more in time. You will help to shape it-"

But Alhana could not look out the window without a shudder. Lorac felt her tremble and he smiled sadly.

"Will our people return, Alhana?" He stared out into the green that was not the vibrant green of life but that of death and decay.

"Of course," Alhana said quickly.

Lorac patted her hand. "A lie, my child? Since when have the elves lied to each other?"

"I think perhaps we may have always lied to ourselves," Alhana murmured, recalling what she had learned of Goldmoon's teaching. "The ancient G.o.ds did not abandon Krynn, Father. A cleric of Mishakal the Healer traveled with us and told us of what she had learned. I-I did not want to believe, Father. I was jealous. She is a human, after all, and why should the G.o.ds come to the humans with this hope? But I see now, the G.o.ds are wise. They came to humans because we elves would not accept them. Through our grief, living in this place of desolation, we will learn-as you and I have learned-that we can no longer live within the world and live apart from from the world. The elves will work to rebuild not only this land, but all lands ravaged by the evil." the world. The elves will work to rebuild not only this land, but all lands ravaged by the evil."

Lorac listened. His eyes turned from the tortured landscape to his daughter's face, pale and radiant as the silver moon, and he reached out his hand to touch her.

"You will bring them back? Our people?"

"Yes, Father," she promised, taking his cold, fleshless hand in her own and holding it fast. "We will work and toil. We will ask forgiveness of the G.o.ds. We will go out among the peoples of Krynn and-" Tears flooded her eyes and choked her voice, for she saw Lorac could no longer hear her. His eyes dimmed, and he began to sink back in the chair.

"I give myself to the land," he whispered. "Bury my body in the soil, daughter. As my life brought this curse upon it, so, perhaps, my death will bring its blessing."

Lorac's hand slipped from his daughter's grasp. His lifeless eyes stared out into the tormented land of Silvanesti. But the look of horror on his face faded away, leaving it filled with peace.

And Alhana could not grieve.

That night, the companions prepared to leave Silvanesti. They were to travel under the cover of darkness for much of their journey north, since by now they knew the dragonarmies controlled the lands they must pa.s.s through. They had no maps to guide them. They feared trusting ancient maps anymore, after their experience with the landlocked seaport city, Tarsis. But the only maps that could be found in Silvanesti dated back thousands of years. The companions decided to travel north from Silvanesti blindly, with some hope of discovering a seaport where they could find pa.s.sage to Sancrist.

They traveled lightly, so they could travel swiftly. Besides, there was little to take; the elves had stripped their country bare of food and supplies when they left.

The mage took possession of the dragon orb-a charge no one disputed him. Tanis at first despaired of how they could carry the ma.s.sive crystal with them-it was nearly two feet in diameter and extraordinarily heavy. But the evening before they left-Alhana came to Raistlin, a small sack in her hand.

"My father carried the orb in this sack. I always thought it odd, considering the orb's size, but he said the sack was given to him in the Tower of High Sorcery. Perhaps this will help you."

The mage reached out his thin hand to grasp it eagerly.

"Jistrah tagopar Ast moirparann Kini," he murmured and watched in satisfaction as the nondescript bag began to glow with a pale pink light. he murmured and watched in satisfaction as the nondescript bag began to glow with a pale pink light.

"Yes, it is enchanted," he whispered. Then he lifted his gaze to Caramon. "Go and bring me the orb."

Caramon's eyes opened wide in horror. "Not for any treasure in this world!" the big man said with an oath.

"Bring me the orb!" Raistlin ordered, staring angrily at his brother, who still shook his head.

"Oh, don't be a fool, Caramon!" Raistlin snapped in exasperation. "The orb cannot hurt those who do not attempt to use it. Believe me, my dear brother, you do not have the power to control a c.o.c.kroach, let alone a dragon orb!"

"But it might trap me," Caramon protested.

"Bah! It seeks those with-" Raistlin stopped suddenly.

"Yes?" Tanis said quietly. "Go on. Who does it seek?"

"People with intelligence," Raistlin snarled. "Therefore I believe the members of this this party are safe. Bring me the orb, Caramon, or perhaps you want to carry it yourself? Or you, Half-Elf? Or you, cleric of Mishakal?" party are safe. Bring me the orb, Caramon, or perhaps you want to carry it yourself? Or you, Half-Elf? Or you, cleric of Mishakal?"

Caramon glanced uncomfortably at Tanis, and the half-elf realized that the big man was seeking his his approval. It was an odd move for the twin, who had always done what Raistlin commanded without question. approval. It was an odd move for the twin, who had always done what Raistlin commanded without question.

Tanis saw that he wasn't the only one who noticed Caramon's mute appeal. Raistlin's eyes glittered in rage.

Now more than ever, Tanis felt wary of the mage, distrusting Raistlin's strange and growing power. It's illogical, he argued with himself. A reaction to a nightmare, nothing more. But that didn't solve his problem. What should he do about the dragon orb? Actually, he realized ruefully, he had little choice.

"Raistlin's the only one with the knowledge and the skill and-let's face it-the guts to handle that thing," Tanis said grudgingly. "I say he should take it, unless one of you wants the responsibility?"

No one spoke, though Riverwind shook his head, frowning darkly. Tanis knew the Plainsman would leave the orb-and Raistlin as well-here in Silvanesti if he had the choice.

"Go ahead, Caramon," Tanis said. "You're the only one strong enough to lift it."

Reluctantly, Caramon went to fetch the orb from its golden stand. His hands shook as he reached out to touch it, but, when he laid his hands upon it, nothing happened. The globe did not change in appearance. Sighing in relief, Caramon lifted the orb, grunting from the weight, and carried it back to his brother, who held the sack open.

"Drop it in the bag," Raistlin ordered.

"What?" Caramon's jaw sagged as he stared from the giant orb to the small bag in the mage's frail hands. "I can't, Raist! It won't fit in there! It'll smash!"

The big man fell silent as Raistlin's eyes flared golden in the dying light of day.

"No! Caramon, wait!" Tanis leaped forward, but this time Caramon did as Raistlin commanded. Slowly, his eyes held fast by his brother's intense gaze, Caramon dropped the dragon orb.

The orb vanished!

"What? Where-" Tanis glared at Raistlin suspiciously.

"In the sack," the mage replied calmly, holding forth the small bag. "See for yourself, if you do not trust me."

Tanis peered into the bag. The orb was inside and it was the true dragon orb, all right. He had no doubt. He could see the swirling mist of green, as though some faint life stirred within. It must have shrunk, he thought in awe, but the orb appeared to be the same size as always, giving Tanis the fearful impression that it was he he who had grown. who had grown.

Shuddering, Tanis stepped back. Raistlin gave the drawstring on the top of the bag a quick jerk, snapping it shut. Then, glancing at them distrustfully, he slipped the bag within his robes, secreting it in one of his numerous hidden pockets, and began to turn away. But Tanis stopped him.

"Things can never again be the same between us, can they?" the half-elf asked quietly.

Raistlin looked at him for a moment, and Tanis saw a brief flicker of regret in the young mage's eyes, a longing for trust and friendship and a return to the days of youth.

"No," Raistlin whispered. "But such was the price I paid." He began to cough.

"Price? To whom? For what?"

"Do not question, Half-Elf." The mage's thin shoulders bent with coughing. Caramon put his strong arm around his brother and Raistlin leaned weakly against his twin. When he recovered from the spasm, he lifted his golden eyes. "I cannot tell you the answer, Tanis, because I do not know it myself."

Then, bowing his head, he let Caramon lead him away to find what rest he could before their journey.

"I wish you would reconsider and let us a.s.sist you in the funeral rites for your father," Tanis said to Alhana as she stood in the door of the Tower of the Stars to bid them farewell. "A day will not make a difference to us."

"Yes, let us," Goldmoon entreated earnestly. "I know much about this from our people, for our burial customs are similar to yours, if Tanis has told me correctly. I was priestess in my tribe, and I presided over the wrapping of the body in the spiced cloths that will preserve it-"

"No, my friends," Alhana said firmly, her face pale. "It was my father's wish that I-I do this alone."

This was not quite true, but Alhana knew how shocked these people would be at the sight of her father's body being consigned to the ground-a custom practiced only by goblins and other evil creatures. The thought appalled her. Involuntarily, her gaze was drawn to the tortured and twisted tree that was to mark his grave, standing over it like some fearful carrion bird. Quickly she looked away, her voice faltered.

"His tomb is-is long prepared and I have some experience of these things myself. Do not worry about me, please."

Tanis saw the agony in her face, but he could not refuse to honor her request.

"We understand," Goldmoon said. Then, on impulse, the Que-shu Plainswoman put her arms around the elven princess and held her as she might have held a lost and frightened child. Alhana stiffened at first, then relaxed in Goldmoon's compa.s.sionate embrace.

"Be at peace," Goldmoon whispered, stroking back Alhana's dark hair from her face. Then the Plainswoman left.

"After you bury your father, what then?" Tanis asked as he and Alhana stood alone together on the steps of the Tower.

"I will return to my people," Alhana replied gravely. "The griffons will come to me, now that the evil in this land is gone, and they will take me to Ergoth. We will do what we can to help defeat this evil, then we will come home."

Tanis glanced around Silvanesti. Horrifying as it was in the daytime, its terrors at night were beyond description.

"I know," Alhana said in answer to his unspoken thoughts. "This will be our penance."

Tanis raised his eyebrows skeptically, knowing the fight she had ahead of her to get her people to return. Then he saw the conviction on Alhana's face. He gave her even odds.

Smiling, he changed the subject. "And will you find time to go to Sancrist?" he asked. "The knights would be honored by your presence. Particularly one of them."

Alhana's pale face flushed. "Perhaps," she said, barely speaking above a whisper. "I cannot say yet. I have learned many things about myself. But it will take me a long time to make these things a part of me." She shook her head, sighing. "It may be I can never truly be comfortable with them."

"Like learning to love a human?"

Alhana lifted her head, her clear eyes looked into Tanis's. "Would he be happy, Tanis? Away from his homeland, for I must return to Silvanesti? And could I be happy, knowing that I must watch him age and die while I am still in my youth?"

"I asked myself these same questions, Alhana," Tanis said, thinking with pain of the decision he had reached concerning Kitiara. "If we deny love that is given to us, if we refuse to give love because we fear the pain of loss, then our lives will be empty, our loss greater."

"I wondered, when first we met, why these people follow you, Tanis Half-Elven," Alhana said softly. "Now I understand. I will consider your words. Farewell, until your life's journey's end."

"Farewell, Alhana," Tanis answered, taking the hand she extended to him. He could find nothing more to say, and so turned and left her.

But he could not help wondering, as he did, that if he was so d.a.m.n wise, why was his life in such a mess?

Tanis joined the companions at the edge of the forest. For a moment they stood there, reluctant to enter the woods of Silvanesti. Although they knew the evil was gone, the thought of traveling for days among the twisted, tortured forest was a somber one. But they had no choice. Already they felt the sense of urgency that had driven them this far. Time was sifting through the hourgla.s.s, and they knew they could not let the sands run out, although they had no idea why.

"Come, my brother," said Raistlin finally. The mage led the way into the woods, the Staff of Magius shedding its pale light as he walked. Caramon followed, with a sigh. One by one the others trailed after. Tanis alone turned to look back.

They would not see the moons tonight. The land was covered with a heavy darkness as if it too mourned Lorac's death. Alhana stood in the doorway to the Tower of the Stars, her body framed by the Tower, which glimmered in the light of moon rays captured ages ago. Only Alhana's face was visible in the shadows, like the ghost of the silver moon. Tanis caught a glimpse of movement. She raised her hand and there was a brief, clear flash of pure white light-the Starjewel. And then she was gone.

BOOK 2.

The story of the companions' journey to Ice Wall Castle and their defeat of the evil Dragon Highlord, Feal-thas, became legend among the Ice Barbarians who inhabit that desolate land. It is still told by the village cleric on long winter nights when heroic deeds are remembered and songs are sung.

Song of the Ice Reaver I am the one who brought them back.

I am Raggart I am telling you this.

Snow upon snow cancels the signals of ice Over the snow the sun bleeds whiteness In cold light forever unbearable.

And if I do not tell you this The snow descends on the deeds of heroes And their strength in my singing Lies down in a core of frost rising no more No more as the lost breath crumbles.Seven they were from the hot lands (I am the one who brought them back) Four swordsmen sworn in the North The elf-woman Laurana The dwarf from the floes of stone The kender small-boned as a hawk.

Riding three blades they came to the tunnel To the throat of the only castle.

Down among Thanoi the old guardians Where their swordsmen carved hot air Finding tendon finding bone As the tunnels melted red.Down upon minotaur upon ice bear And the swords whistled again Bright on the corner of madness The tunnel knee-high in arms In claws in unspeakable things As the swordsmen descended Bright steam freezing behind them.Then to the chambers at the castle heart Where Feal-thas awaited lord of dragons and wolves Armored in white that is nothing That covers the ice as the sun bleeds whiteness.

And he called on the wolves the baby-stealers Who suckled on murder in the lairs of ancestors.

Around the heroes a circle of knives of craving As the wolves stalked in their master's eye.And Aran the first to break the circle Hot wind at the throat of Feal-thas Brought down and unraveled In the reel of the hunt perfected.

Brian the next when the sword of the wolf lord Sent him seeking the warm lands.

All stood frozen in the wheel of razors All stood frozen except for Laurana.

Blind in a hot light flashing the crown of the mind Where death melts in a diving sun She takes up the Ice Reaver And over the boil of wolves over the slaughter Bearing a blade of ice bearing darkness She opened the throat of the wolf lord And the wolves fell silent as the head collapsed.The rest is short in the telling.

Destroying the eggs the violent get of the dragons A tunnel of scales and ordure Followed into the terrible larder Followed further followed to treasure.

There the orb danced blue danced white Swelled like a heart in its endless beating (They let me hold it I brought them back).

Out from the tunnel blood on blood under the ice Bearing their own incredible burden The young knights silent and tattered They came five now only The kender last small pockets bulging.

I am Raggart I am telling you this.

I am the one who brought them back.