away from me. He knew I wasn't really

reading the words," Raistlin added coolly. "He just wanted a chance to get rid of me."

"Master Theobald accepted you into his school," said Antimodes sternly. "He didn't 'get rid of you,' as you put it.

And what you did was wrong. You should not have taken the book without his permission."

"He had to take me," Raistlin said flatly. "My schooling was bought and paid for." He stared very hard at

Antimodes, who, having expected this, was prepared for it and returned the stare with bland innocence.

The child had met his match. He lowered his gaze, shifted it to the bookcase. One corner of his mouth twitched.

"Caramon must have told Kitiara. He really did think I was going to summon a demon, you know. Caramon's like a

kender. He'll believe anything you tell him."

"Do you love your brother?" Antimodes asked impulsively. "Of course," Raistlin responded blandly, smoothly. "He's

my twin

"Yes, you are twins, aren't you," Antimodes said reflectively. "I wonder if your brother has a talent for magic? It

would seem logic-"

He stopped, confounded, struck dumb by the look Raistlin gave him. It was a blow, as if the child had struck out

with his fists. No, not with fists. With a dagger.

Antimodes recoiled, startled unpleasantly by the malevolence in the child's expression. The question had been

idle, harmless. He had certainly not expected such a reaction.

"May I return to class now, sir?" Raistlin asked politely. His face was smooth, if somewhat pale.

"Uh, yes. I ... uh ... enjoyed our visit," said Antimodes.

Raistlin made no comment. He bowed politely, as all the boys were taught to bow, then went to the door, opened

it.

A wave of noise and heat, bringing with it the smell of small boys and boiled cabbage and ink, surged into the

library, reminding Antimodes of the tide coming in on the dirty beaches at Flotsam. The door shut behind the boy.

Antimodes sat quite still for long moments, recovering. This was difficult to do at first, because he kept seeing

those blue poignard eyes, glittering with anger, sliding through his flesh. Finally, realizing that the day was winding

on and that he wanted to reach the Inn of the Last Home before dark, Antimodes shook off the aftereffects of the

unfortunate scene and returned to the schoolroom to make his farewells to Master Theobald.

Book 2.

I will do this. Nothing in my life matters except this. No moment in my life exists except this moment. I am born in this moment,

and if Ifail,I will die in this moment.

-Raistlin Majere.

Raist! Over here!" Caramon waved from the front of the

farmer's cart, which he was driving. At the age of thirteen, so tall and broad and muscular that he often

passed for much older, Caramon had become Farmer Sedge's top field hand.

Caramon's hair curled on his brow in soft auburn rings, his eyes were cheerful, friendly, and guileless:

gullible. The children adored him, and so did every shyster, beggar, and con artist that passed through Solace. He

was unusually strong for his age, also unusually gentle. He had a formidable temper when riled, but the fuse was

buried so deep and took so long to burn that Caramon usually realized he was angry only when the quarrel had

long since ended.

The only time his anger exploded was when someone threatened his twin.

Raistlin lifted his hand to acknowledge his brother's shout. He was glad to see Caramon, glad to see a friendly

face.

Seven winters ago, Raistlin had decided that he must board at Master Theobald's school during the coldest

months of the year, an arrangement that meant for the first time in their lives the twin brothers were separated.

Seven winters passed, with Raistlin absent from his home. In springtime, like this spring, when the sun melted

the frozen roads and brought the first green and golden buds to the vallenwoods, the twins were reunited.

Long ago, Raistlin had given up secretly hoping that someday he would look into a mirror and see in himself

the image of his handsome twin. Raistlin, with his fine-boned features and large eyes, his soft-to-the-touch

reddish hair that brushed his shoulders, would have been the more handsome of the two but