for silence. With much shuffling, coughing, and whispering, the crowd settled down to await the promised miracles.

Two flute players entered the arena and began to play a dolorous tune. Doors on either side of the statue opened,

and a procession of priests and priestess clad in sky-blue robes entered. Each carried a viper coiled in a basket.

Raistlin examined the priestess closely, searching for the Widow Judith.

He was disappointed not to find her. The flute music grew livelier. The vipers lifted their heads, swaying back and

forth with the motion of their handlers. Raistlin had read an account in one of Master Theobald's books on snake

charming, a practice developed among the elves, who killed no living thing if they could help it but used the charming

to rid their gardens of deadly serpents.

According to the book, the charm was not magical in nature. Snakes could be put into trances by means of music,

a fact Raistlin had found difficult to credit. Now, watching the vipers and their reactions to the changes in the flute

music, he began to think there might be something to it.

The audience was impressed. People gasped in awe and thrilled horror. Women gathered their skirts around their

ankles and pulled children onto their laps. Men muttered and grasped their knives. The priests were unconcerned,

serene. When their dance in honor of the statue concluded, they set the baskets containing the snakes on the floor of

the arena. The vipers remained inside the baskets, their heads moving back and forth in a sleepy rhythm. Those

people seated in the front rows watched the snakes warily.

The priests and priestesses formed a semicircle around the statue and began to chant. The chanting was led by a

middleaged man with long, gray-streaked black hair. His robes were a darker color than the robes of the other

priests, were made of a finer cloth. He wore a gold chain around his neck, a chain from which hung the image of a

viper. Word whispered around the

room that this was the High Priest of Belzor.

His expression was genial, serene, though Raistlin noted that the man's eyes were much like the eyes of the

statue; they reflected the light, gave none of their own. He recited the chants in a somnambular monotone that was

punctuated with an occasional shout at odd moments, shouts perhaps intended to jolt into wakefulness members of

the audience who had dozed off.

The chanting droned on and on. From mildly annoying, it soon became quite irritating, rasping on the nerves.

"This is intolerable," Sturm muttered.

Raistlin agreed. Between the echoing noise, the smoke of the fires burning in the braziers, and the stench of

several hundred people crowded into a single windowless room, he was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. His

head ached, his throat burned. He didn't know how much longer he could stand this and hoped it would end soon.

He feared he might fall ill and have to leave, and he had yet to find Judith. He had yet to witness these purported

miracles.

The chanting ceased abruptly. An audible sigh whispered among the audience, whether of reverence or relief,

Raistlin couldn't tell. A hidden door located inside the statue opened up, and a woman entered the arena.

Raistlin leaned forward, regarded her intently. There was no mistaking her, though it had been many years since

he had last seen her. He had to make absolutely certain. Grabbing hold of Caramon's arm, Raistlin shook his twin

into wakefulness.

"Huh?" Caramon gazed around dazedly. His eyes fo cused, he sat upright. His gaze was fixed on the priestess who

had just entered, and Raistlin could tell from the sudden rigidity of his brother's body that Caramon had also

recognized her.

"The Widow Judith!" Caramon said hoarsely.

"Is it?" Kit asked. "I only saw her once. Are you sure?"

"I'm not likely to ever forget her," Caramon said grimly.

"I recognize her as well," Sturm stated. "That is the woman we knew as the Widow Judith."

Kit smiled, pleased. Crossing her arms over her chest, she settled back comfortably, her bent leg propped over one

knee, and stared at the priestess to the exclusion of anyone else in the temple.

Raistlin also watched Judith attentively, though the sight of her brought back intensely painful memories. He

waited to see her perform a miracle.

The High Priestess was clad in sky-blue robes similar to

those the others wore, with two exceptions: Hers were trimmed in golden thread, and whereas the sleeves on the