was slightly larger than the rest. Here sat the head of the conclave. The cushion on the chair was white.

At first glance, the chairs were empty.

At second glance, they were not. Wizards occupied them, men and women of different races, wearing the different

colors suitable to their orders.

Caramon gasped and lurched unsteadily on his feet. Raistlin's hand closed viciously over his twin's arm, probably

hurting his brother as much as it supported him.

Caramon was having a very bad time of it. He had never taken either magic or his brother's gift for magic

seriously. To him, magic was coins dribbling from the nose, bunnies popping up unexpectedly, giant kender. Even

that spell had impressed Caramon only moderately. When it came down to it, the kender had not really turned into a

giant at all. It was only illusion, trickery. Trickery and magic had been all muddled up in Caramon's mind.

This was not trickery. What he witnessed was a raw display of power, intended to impress and intimidate.

Caramon continued to fear for his brother. If he could have, he would have snatched Raistlin from that place and

fled. But somewhere in the depths of Caramon's mind, he was finally beginning to understand the high stakes for

which his brother gambled, stakes high enough that it might be worth betting his life.

The wizard in the center chair rose to his feet.

"That is Par-Salian, head of the conclave," Raistlin whispered to his brother, hoping to save Caramon from yet

another gaffe. "Be polite!"

The initiates bowed respectfully, Caramon along with the rest.

"Greetings," said Par-Salian in a kind and welcoming tone.

The great archmage was in his early sixties at the time, though his long white hair, wispy white beard, and his

stooped shoulders made him look older. He had never been robust, had always preferred study to action. He worked

constantly to develop new spells, refine and enhance old ones. He was eager for magical artifacts as a child is eager

for sugarplums. His apprentices spent much of their time traveling the continent in search of artifacts and scrolls or

in tracking down rumors of such.

Par-Salian was also a keen observer and participant in the politics of Ansalon, unlike many wizards who held

themselves

above the trivial, everyday dealings of an ignorant populace. The head of the conclave had contacts in every single

government of any importance on Ansalon. Antimodes was not Par-Salian 's only source of information. He kept most

of his knowledge secret and to himself, unless it benefited his plans to do otherwise.

Though few knew the full extent of his influence in Ansalon, an aura of wisdom and power surrounded Par-Salian

with an almost visible halo of white light, shining so brightly that the two Silvanesti elves, who held most humans in

the same regard as other races held kender, bowed low to him and then bowed again.

"Greetings, initiates," Par-Salian repeated, "and guest."

His gaze went to Caramon, seemed to strike right to the big man's heart and set him trembling.

"You have each come at the appointed time by invitation to undergo tests of your skills and your talent, your

creativity, your thought processes, and, most importantly, the testing of yourself. What are your limits? How far can

you push beyond those limits? What are your flaws? How might those flaws impede your abilities? Uncomfortable

questions, but questions we each must answer, for only when we know ourselves-faults and strengths alike -will we

have access to the full potential that is within us."

The initiates stood silent and circumspect, nervous and awed and anxious to begin.

Par-Salian smiled. "Don't worry. I know how eager you are, and therefore I will not indulge in long speeches. Again

I want to bid you welcome and to extend my blessing. I ask that Solinari be with you this day."

He lifted his hands. The initiates bowed their heads. Par-Salian resumed his seat.

The head of the Order of Red Robes stood up, moved briskly on to the business at hand.

"When your name is called, step forward and accompany one of the judges, who will take you to the area where

the testing will begin. I am certain you are all familiar with the criteria of the testing, but the conclave requires me to

read it to you now, so that none can later claim he or she entered into this unknowingly. I remind you that these are

guidelines only. Each Test is specially designed for the individual initiate and may include all or only a part of what

the guidelines call for.

" 'There shall be at least three tests of the initiate's knowledge