Raistlin wasn't thinking of money. He wasn't thinking of the fact that the elves were lying to him, that they were

undoubtedly intending to use him and then find a way to conveniently get rid of him. He was thinking of spellbooksancient

spellbooks, perhaps spellbooks that had been stolen from the besieged Tower of High Sorcery in Daltigoth, or

rescued from the drowned Tower of Istar. What wealth of magic lay within their covers? And why was Lemuel keeping

them secret, hidden away?

Raistlin had the answer immediately. These must be books of black magic. That was the only logical explanation.

Lemuel's father had been a war wizard of the White Robes. He could not destroy the books. By strictest law, no

member of one order could willfully destroy any magical artifact or spellbook belonging to another. Magical

knowledge, no matter from whence it came, who produced it, or whom it might benefit, was precious and deserved

protection. But he might have been tempted to conceal those spellbooks he considered evil. By hiding such books

away, he could both preserve them and keep them from falling into the hands of his enemies.

It is my duty to look into this matter, Raistlin convinced himself. Besides, if I do not go with these elves, they will

only find someone else, someone who might harm the books.

Thus Raistlin rationalized, but in his heart was the undeniable longing to see these books, to hold them and feel

their power. Perhaps unlock their secrets ...

"When do you propose to do this?" Raistlin asked.

"Lemuel left town two days ago. We are pressed for time. Tonight? Are you with us?"

Raistlin nodded. "I am with you."

The red and silver moons shone brightly; the orbs were close this night, as if the two gods were leaning their heads

together, to whisper and laugh over the follies they

viewed from high above. The silver and red light shone down on the thieves. Raistlin cast two shadows as he walked

along the road. The shadows stretched before him. One shadow, tinged with silver, went to his right; the other,

haloed by red, to his left. He could have almost imagined diverging paths, except that, in essence, both shadows were

black.

They took a roundabout way to Lemuel's house to avoid passing through town. Raistlin did not recognize the

route. They were coming from a different angle, and he was startled---startled and ill at ease -to suddenly see the

mage's house loom in front of him before he was expecting it. The house was the same as Raistlin remembered, held

the same appearance of being abandoned that it had worn the first time he had visited Lemuel. No lights shone in the

windows, nor was there a single sound of anything living within. Lemuel had been at home then. What if he were at

home now?

These dark elves would have no compunction about killing him.

Micah produced the skeleton key he had made, fitted it into the lock. The other two elves kept watch. Their cloaks

were cast aside, providing easy access to their weapons. They were well equipped with daggers and knives, the

weapons of thieves, weapons of assassins.

Raistlin felt a deep loathing for these dark elves, a loathing that extended to himself, for he was standing in the

moonlight in the dead of night alongside them, preparing to enter a man's house without his knowledge or his

permission.

I should turn right now and walk away, he thought to himself.

The door opened soundlessly. Beyond, it was dark and still. Raistlin hesitated only a moment, then he slipped

inside.

He could have rationalized the situation. He had come too far to back out, the dark elves would never let him

escape alive. He might have continued to pretend that he was doing this for Lemuel's own good to relieve him of

books which must be a burden on the mage's soul.

Now that he was here, now that he was committed, Raistlin scorned to do either. He already loathed himself

for the crime that he was about to commit, he didn't intend to add to that loathing by lying about his motives. He

hadn't come here out of fear or constraint, he wasn't here in the name of loyalty and friendship.

He was here for the magic.

Raistlin stood in the darkness in the mageware shop with the elves, his heart beating fast with excitement and

anticipation.

"The human cannot see in the dark," Liam said in Qualinesti. "We don't want him falling over something and