"Not without help!" Antimodes clenched his fist. "If only the gods would give us a sign!"

"I'd say Takhisis has already done just that," Par-Salian said wryly.

"The gods of good, I mean. Will they let her walk over them?" Antimodes demanded, impatient and

exasperated. "When will Paladine and Mishakal finally make known their presence in the world?"

"Perhaps they are waiting for a sign from us," Par-Salian observed mildly.

"A sign of what?"

"Of faith. That we trust in them and believe in them, even though we do not understand their plan."

Antimodes regarded his friend narrowly. Then, leaning back in his chair, continuing to keep his gaze on Par-

Salian, Antimodes scratched his raspy jaw. Par-Salian bore up under the intense scrutiny. He smiled to let his

friend know that his thinking was traveling along the right road.

"So that is what this is all about," Antimodes said after a moment.

Par-Salian inclined his head.

"I wondered. He is so very young. Skilled, admittedly, but very young. And inexperienced."

"He will gain in experience," Par-Salian said. "We have some time before us, do we not?"

Antimodes considered the matter. "These ogres and goblins and humans must be trained, molded into a

fighting force, which may prove extremely difficult. As it stands now, they would just as soon kill each other as

the enemy. Ariakas has a monumental job on his hands. If rumor is true and the dragons have returned, they must

also be controlled in some manner, although it will take those of strong will and courage to accomplish that! So,

yes, in answer to your question, I say that we have time. Some time, but not much. The young man will never

wear the white robes. You know that, don't you?"

"I know that," Par-Salian replied calmly. "I've been listening to Theobald rant and rave about Raistlin Majere

for years, practically

ever since he started school as a child. I know his faults: He is secretive and conniving, arrogant, ambitious, and

hungry."

"He is also creative, intelligent, and courageous," Antimodes added. He was proud of his ward. "Witness his deft

handling of that renegade witch, Judith. He cast a spell far above his level of ability, a spell he should not have even

been able to read, let alone command. And he cast it by himself, without help."

"Which only goes to prove that he will bend rules, even break them if it suits his purpose," Par-Salian said. "No,

no. Don't feel the need to defend him further. I am aware of his merits as I am aware of his weaknesses. That is why I

invited him to take the Test, rather than bring him up before the Conclave on charges, as I should do by rights, I

suppose. Do you think he murdered her?"

"I do not." Antimodes was firm. "If for no other reason than cutting someone's throat is not Raistlin's style. Far too

messy. He is a skilled herbalist. If he had wanted her dead, he would have slipped a little nightshade into her tarbean

tea."

"You believe him capable of murder, then?" Par-Salian asked, frowning.

"Who among us is not, given the right set of circumstances? There is a rival tailor in my town, an odious man who

cheats his customers and spreads vicious lies about his competitors, including my brother. I myself have been

tempted more than once to send Bigby's Crushing Hand knocking on his door." Antimodes looked quite fierce when

he said this.

Par-Salian hid a smile in another glass of wine.

"You yourself used to say that those who walk the paths of night had better know how to see in the dark,"

Antimodes continued. "You don't want him bumbling about blindly, I suppose."

"That was part of my reasoning. The Test will teach him a few things about himself. Things he might not like to

know, but which are necessary to his understanding of himself and the power he wields."

"The Test is a humbling experience," Antimodes said with something between a sigh and shudder.

Their faces lengthened, they cast surreptitious glances at each other to see if their thoughts were once more

traveling in similar directions. It seemed that the thoughts were concurrent, as evidenced by the fact that they had

no need to name the personage about whom they now spoke.

"He will undoubtedly be there," said Antimodes in a low voice. He glanced around guardedly, as if he feared they

might