itself. He stepped back out into the street, lifting his hands and shrugging to indicate that he saw nothing.

"There, you see, sir," Raistlin said, motioning his brother back. "We are alone. The black bryony is very fine. I

have used it successfully to heal scars and close wounds."

Raistlin held the plant in his palm.

Lemuel regarded it with interest. "Yes, I've read about it. I've never seen any. Where did you find it?"

"If I could come inside, sir ..."

Lemuel eyed Raistlin narrowly, gazed at the plant longingly,

made up his mind. "Very well. But I suggest that you post your

brother outside to keep watch. You can't be too careful." "Certainly," said Raistlin, weak with relief.

The mage pulled Raistlin inside, slammed shut the door so

rapidly that he shut it on the hem of Raistlin's white robes and was forced to open the door again to remove the

cloth.

His twin gone, Caramon roamed about for a few moments, scratching his head and trying to figure out what to

do. Eventually he found a seat on a crumbling stone wall and sat down to watch, wondering what it was he was

supposed to watch for and what he was supposed to do if he saw it.

The interior of the mage's shop was dark. The shutters over the windows blocked out all the daylight. Lemu el

lit two candles, one for himself and one for Raistlin. By the candle's light, he saw in dismay that everything was

in disorder, with half-filled crates and barrels standing about. The shelves were bare, most of the merchandise

had been packed away.

"A light spell would be less costly and more efficient than candles, I know," Lemuel confessed. "But their

tormenting has me so upset that I haven't been able to practice my magic in a month. Not that I was all that good

at it to begin with, mind you." He sighed deeply.

"Excuse me, sir," said Raistlin, "but who has been tormenting you?"

"Belzor" said the mage in a low tone, glancing about the darkened room as though he thought the god might

jump out at him from the cupboard.

"Ah," said Raistlin.

"You know of Belzor, do you, young man?"

"I met one of his priests when I first came to town. He warned me that magic was evil and urged me to come

to his temple."

"Don't do it!" Lemuel cried, shuddering. "Don't go anywhere near the place. You know about the snakes?"

"I saw that they carried vipers," Raistlin said. "The fangs are pulled, I suppose."

"Not so!" Lemuel shivered. "Those snakes are deadly poison. The priests trap them in the Plains of Dust. It is

considered a test of faith to be able to hold the snakes without being bitten."

"What happens to those lacking in faith?"

"What do you suppose happens? They are punished. A friend told me. He was present during one of their

meetings. I tried to go to one myself, but they refused to let me inside. They said I would pollute the sanctity of

their temple. I was glad I didn't. That very day one of the snakes bit a young woman. She was dead within

seconds."

"What did the priests do?" Raistlin asked, shocked.

"Nothing. The High Priestess said it was Belzor's will." Lemuel shook so that his candle flame wavered. "Now

you know why I asked your brother to stand guard. I live in mortal fear of waking up one morning to find one of

those vipers in my bed. But I won't live in fear long. They win. I'm giving up. As you see"-he waved his hand at

the crates "I'm moving out."

He held the candle near. "Might I take a closer look at that black bryony?"

Raistlin handed over the small parcel. "What have they done to you?" He had to ask the question several times

and give Lemuel a gentle nudge before he could wrest the mage's attention away from examining the plant.

"The High Priestess herself came to me. She told me to close my shop or face the wrath of Belzor. At first I

refused, but then they grew nasty. The priests would stand outside the shop. When anyone came, they'd shout out

that I was a tool of evil.

"Me?" Lemuel sighed. "A tool of evil? Can you imagine? But the priests frightened people and they quit