“Don’t be a fool,” said Raistlin. He glanced again at the corpse. “The man obviously died while on his way to the meeting. I was with Councillor Shavas the entire time.”
“Mages can get others to do their dark deeds for them, or so I’ve heard,” said Lord Cal grimly. “Others-like their familiars! Like giant cats!”
The councillor shot Cal a look so filled with venom that Caramon took a step back to avoid being poisoned by the glare.
Raistlin turned. “Perhaps I should leave your city to its own devices-”
“I’m sure that will not be necessary, Raistlin,” Shavas said. Gliding over to the mage, she put a hand on his robed shoulder, keeping her eyes averted from the horror on the ground. “Isn’t that correct, Lord Cal?”
The lord tensed, as if afraid of some veiled threat. Clearing his throat, he said, “No, of course not.”
Shavas slumped, letting her body sag against Raistlin’s. He put his arm around her, supporting her.
“Raistlin!” said Earwig urgently.
“Not now!” The mage didn’t even glance at the kender. He and Shavas whispered together softly.
Caramon watched his brother and the councillor, feeling something hot and angry stir deep inside him. Raistlin hated to be touched! And here he was, holding Shavas! How could he do this to me? the warrior demanded inwardly in frustration.
He was about to say something, he didn’t know for certain what, when he saw a cat move out from under a bush to stand next to a tree. The animal was regarding him with bright eyes that shone red in the torchlight. Caramon beckoned, and the cat darted forward. Standing on its hind paws, it clawed at his leg.
“Well, at least someone loves me,” said Caramon, recognizing his black-furred friend of the other afternoon. “You want to come up?”
The cat leaped onto Caramon’s shoulder, balancing perfectly. His brother and Shavas were still conferring. Raistlin kept his arm around her. The warrior reached up to scratch the feline behind the ear.
“There is a test I can make,” Raistlin said, moving away from the councillor, “to tell if the man died by magical means.”
He waved the Staff of Magius over the body, closing his eyes to prepare a spell. Shavas’s terse voice broke his concentration.
“We cannot allow you do to that, Master Mage! We have certain … sacred rituals that must be performed before the body is interred in the ground.”
“I would not do anything that interferes with your religious beliefs-”
“I’m afraid I must insist. Please, Raistlin.” Choking back tears, Shavas put her hand to the necklace at her throat. “This is very difficult for me. He was … a close friend!”
Raistlin lowered the staff. “I’m sorry, Councillor. I have been thoughtless, it seems. Forgive me.”
Lady Shavas beckoned to a guardsman, then leaned over to speak softly into his ear. The soldier nodded once and ran off.
“This evening has been a great strain on all of us,” she said, addressing everyone in the park. “It is time for us all to return to our homes.”
The soldier came back, driving a carriage that he had commandeered. It was obvious to Caramon that this time they weren’t going to be able to convince the fellow to wait for them outside.
Raistlin drew his hood up over his head. Taking his brother’s arm, he said softly, “Come, Caramon, Earwig … Let us go.”
The cat dug its claws into Caramon’s shoulder, drawing a very small trickle of blood.
“Ouch! Hey!” he exclaimed, attempting to dislodge the animal. The cat, however, would not be moved but clung to Caramon tenaciously. They clambered into the carriage. Once Caramon was inside and seated, the cat jumped lightly from his shoulder and curled up in his lap, its red eyes fixed on the twin opposite. The carriage, driven by the soldier, rumbled through the empty, silent streets.
“Raistlin,” said Earwig in a small voice.
“What is it, kender?” the mage asked wearily.
“That man. He’s the one who tried to kill me.”
Caramon jerked his head up, staring. Raistlin, however, did not move.
“What do you think, Raist?” Caramon asked, feeling a chill of horror creep over his body.
“I think,” said the mage, “that we have one more day, my brother. One more day.”
Chapter 15
No one spoke during the carriage ride. No one made a sound except the cat, who purred loudly, rumbling like a small thunderstorm. Earwig sat in one corner of the carriage, scratching his hand. Raistlin sat huddled in another, his cowl pulled low over his head. He might have been thinking or fast asleep. Caramon sat miserably, his broad shoulders spanning two corners, wishing he was back in Solace.
“I’d ask Tanis about this mess,” he said quietly to himself, a wave of homesickness sweeping over him. The half-elf was the wisest man Caramon knew. Always calm and steady-going, Tanis rarely allowed anything to shake him-with the possible exception of the twins’ older sister, Kitiara. Caramon heaved a great sigh. He wouldn’t see Tanis again for a long time, perhaps ever, the way the world seemed to be falling headlong into darkness. They were supposed to meet again in five-no, now make it four-years time. It seemed an eternity. Caramon sighed again. The cat licked his hand with its rough tongue.
“Barnstoke Hall, sirs,” said the soldier-driver.
The carriage rolled to a halt. The companions climbed out, the soldier watching every step. It was obvious he wasn’t going to leave until they were safely inside the inn. From the look of him, Caramon thought, he might be planning to spend the night.
The fighter, cat tucked under one arm, attempted to open the door of the hall, but discovered it was locked. He pounded on it loudly. Minutes passed, then the proprietor slid open a panel in the door and peered outside. Seeing the companions, he slid the panel shut. They waited another several moments, hearing bolts being drawn and chains rattling. Finally the door opened a crack, barely large enough for the warrior to squeeze through.
The proprietor slammed the door shut again immediately after the three were inside. He was trembling so hard he could barely stand.
“Forgive me, sirs, but there’s been a terrible accident in town! Lord Manion-”
“We know,” snapped Raistlin, moving past the man. “And it was no accident.”
Caramon noticed that his brother barely needed the assistance of the staff to walk anymore. Raistlin’s gait was strong, even after being up all hours of the night. He had not coughed once. The mage reminded Caramon so much of what he had been before the test that tears came to the warrior’s eyes. He blinked them back and prayed to whatever gods were listening that this change would last.
The cat in his arms suddenly began to wriggle and squirm. Jumping out of Caramon’s grasp, it landed on the floor and sat there, staring at him for a moment. Then, tail stuck straight up in the air, the cat wandered off, heading for the kitchen.
The proprietor began bolting the door, chained it securely. Raistlin climbed the stairs to their room. Caramon came after him, dragging Earwig, who was staring with professional interest at the numerous locks on the door.
Arriving outside their room, Raistlin held up a warning hand. Caramon kept hold of Earwig, who would have charged heedlessly ahead.
“Wait,” said the warrior.
“Why?” Earwig asked, staring at Raistlin.
“Shirak!” The mage held the beaming orb to the floor, stared intently underneath the door.
“What’s he doing, checking for dust?” asked the kender.
“Yeah, sort of,” said Caramon.
“It’s all right,” said Raistlin, standing up. He held a rose petal in his hand. “This was where I left it. No one has passed.”
“You better let me go first, just in case,” said Caramon, drawing his sword.
The mage unlocked the door, and the warrior pushed it aside with his hand, both of them keeping well out of the way. Nothing happened. Carefully, Caramon entered the room. Raistlin came after him, holding the light of his staff high. Earwig bounded in, hoping the rose petal had been wrong and that there might be something interesting inside.