as the fair runs, I do not think they will bother you, sir."

"We should be grateful for small blessings, as the gnome said when he blew off his hand when it might

have been his head. Have you had breakfast? Do you mind very much if we take our

food into the garden? I have a great deal of work to do there."

Raistlin indicated that he had already eaten and that he would be perfectly happy to go into the garden. He

found the plots about a fourth of the way dug up, with plants arranged in neat bundles, ready for transport.

"Half of them won't survive the trip, but some of them will make it, and in a few years, I daresay I will have

my old garden back again," Lemuel said, trying to be cheerful.

But his gaze roved sadly to the blackberry bushes, the cherry and apple trees, the enormous lilac bush. The

tees and plants he could not take with him could never be replaced.

"Perhaps you won't have to leave, sir." Raistlin said. "I have heard rumors that some people think Belzor is a

fraud and that they intend to expose him as such."

"Really?" Lemuel's face brightened, then fell again into shadow. "They won't succeed. His followers are much

too powerful. Still, it is kind of you to give me hope, even if only for a moment. Now, what is it you want, young

man?" Lemuel regarded Raistlin shrewdly. "Is someone ill? Do you need some of my medicines?"

"No, sir." Raistlin flushed slightly, embarrassed that he was so transparent. "I would like to look over your

father's books again, if you don't mind."

"Bless you, young man, they're your books now," Lemuel said warmly, with such kindness that Raistlin

determined then and there to bring down Belzor no matter what the cost and without a thought to his own

ambition. He left the mage roving unhappily about his garden, trying to decide what could be safely transplanted

and what should be left behind, hoping that the next owner would properly water the hydrangea.

Inside the library, Raistlin spent a moment looking fondly and proudly on the books -his books, soon to be his

libraryand then he set to work. He found the spell he was seeking without difficulty; the war mage had been a

man of precise habits and had noted down each spell and its location in a separate volume. Upon reading a

description of the spell-which the war mage had also included, apparently for his own reference-Raistlin was

convinced beyond doubt that this indeed was the spell the High Priestess was casting.

He was further confirmed in his belief on noting that the spell required no components -no sand sprinkled over

the eyes or bat guano rolled in the fingers. Judith had only to speak the words and make the appropriate gestures

in order to work the

magic. This was the reason for the voluminous sleeves.

The question now was, could he cast this same spell?

The spell was not exceptionally difficult, it did not require the skills of an archmage to cast. The spell would

be easily accessible to an apprentice mage, but Raistlin was not even that. He was a novice, would not be

permitted to apprentice himself until after he had taken the Test. By the laws of the conclave, he was forbidden to

cast this spell until that time. The law was quite specific on that point.

The laws of the conclave were also quite specific on another point: If ever a mage met a renegade wizard, one

who was operating outside the law of the conclave, it was the duty of that mage to either reason with the

renegade, bring the renegade to justice before the conclave, or-in extreme cases -end the renegade's life.

Was Judith a renegade? This was a question Raistlin had spent the night pondering. It was possible she might

be a black-robed wizard, using her evil magic to fraudulently obtain wealth and poison people's minds.

Practitioners of evil magic, the Order of the Black Robes, worshipers of Nuitari, were an accepted part of the

conclave's ranks. Though few outsiders could understand or accept what they considered a pact with the forces of

darkness.

Raistlin recalled an argument he had presented to Sturm over this very point.

"We mages recognize that there must be balance in the world," Raistlin had tried to explain. "Darkness

follows the day, both are necessary for our continued existence. Thus the conclave respects both the dark and the

light. They ask that, in turn, all wizards respect the conclave's laws, which have been laid down over the

centuries in order to protect magic and those who practice it. The loyalty of any wizard must be to the magic

first, to all other causes second."

Needless to say, Sturm had not been convinced.