Caramon glanced around. The gate was empty, unguarded. The streets were filled with people hurrying from door to door, each relating to another his own version of the terrifying wonders that had occurred during the night. The city was in chaos, its leaders dead. Rumor had it that they had perished, fighting alongside the Lord of the Cats to protect the city from some great evil. The walls of Mereklar knew better, but few in the city paid any attention to the new carvings.
A cat carrying a newborn kitten in her mouth hurried past on light feet, moving her family from the wilderness into the city that was said to welcome felines. Several townsfolk, spotting the cat, knelt down to make overtures.
“I still think we should say good-bye to Lady Shavas,” Caramon said.
Raistlin glanced back to the center of Mereklar where a thin column of black smoke still lingered in the air.
“No.” The mage spoke from the depths of his hood. When it seemed Caramon was going to persist, he gently laid a hand on his brother’s arm. “Come. We must go.”
“Oh, here, Raist.” Earwig drew the mage’s cure-the bag of pungent herbs-from his pouch. “You dropped it. You really did!” said the kender, eyes wide.
“I didn’t drop it, Earwig,” said Raistlin. “I threw it a-” He paused, then said, “That is … you may keep it, if you want.”
“I may! Gosh, thanks!”
“Thank you, Earwig, for your help,” Raistlin said. He lifted his eyes and fixed them on the girl.
Take care of him.
The words formed in Catherine’s mind. Startled, she nodded her head. “I will,” she promised.
“Well, be seein’ you, Earwig,” said Caramon. “Good luck with your adventuring.”
The twins started down the road in one direction, Catherine and Earwig turned the other. They were walking past what had once been the blank walls of Mereklar when Earwig suddenly stopped and stared.
“Wow!” he said in awe.
Tears filled his eyes, and he ran his hand across the stone on which was carved a kender perched bravely on the back of a carriage in the Abyss. And there was another carving, of a kender hero slaying a demon. And a third, of a kender gallantly thrusting his hand into a deadly box.…
“Hey, Caramon! Raistlin!” Earwig shouted in wild excitement.
The twins-small figures in the distance-turned. The mage was leaning on his brother’s arm. Both looked sad and weary and in pain.
“Never mind,” said Earwig softly.
“ ’Bye!” shouted the kender, waving the pouch. “Say ‘hi’ to Cousin Tas for me!”
The journey back to the Black Cat was long and tiring for both brothers. They had to stop often to rest. Near midday, Raistlin turned off the path and entered the forest. Caramon, as usual, stopped to wait for him, but this time Raistlin glanced back and gestured.
“Come, Caramon.”
“Sure. Is something wrong?” the warrior asked in concern.
“We must speak.”
Caramon felt himself grow cold. The warrior had awakened from a deep, nightmare-ridden sleep to find himself lying in a bed in Barnstoke Hall, his brother watching over him, guarding his rest. Raistlin had treated his brother’s wounds and told him that it was all over, it was time to leave Mereklar.
“Then the city’s safe?” Caramon had asked.
“I’ll tell you all later, my brother!” Raistlin had said. “When I feel the time is right.”
That time, seemingly, was now.
The twins left the road. Walking into a sparse forest, they picked their way carefully through the undergrowth. Raistlin moved slowly, his strength waning. Caramon grimaced with every step.
“Does your shoulder hurt?” Raistlin asked.
“Like fire,” Caramon admitted.
“I will change the dressings.”
The mage’s slender hands, which could be gentle when he wanted them to be, ministered to Caramon’s wound, washing it with cool water from the stream. Raistlin spread a salve of his own invention over the inflamed area. Caramon grunted, sighing in relief as the balm eased his pain.
Raistlin settled himself on the bank of the stream and stared for long moments into the rippling water. Caramon waited in trepidation. He had never seen his brother so withdrawn, so silent and preoccupied.
“Shavas is dead,” said Raistlin suddenly.
“What?” Caramon gasped. “Dead! How-”
“I killed her.”
Caramon made a strangled sound. Raistlin glanced up at him. His twin was gazing at him in horror. The expression on his brother’s face was familiar. Raistlin had seen it once before-in the Tower of High Sorcery. The mage’s thin lips twisted in bitterness.
“Perhaps I should explain-”
“Yes, perhaps you should!” Caramon’s voice grated harshly.
“I will start at the beginning. Since her banishment from the world, the Dark Queen has always sought a way to reenter. She lacks the strength to do so on her own, and so she decided to attempt to take advantage of the power unleashed by the Great Eye.
“To this end, she sent her agents into Mereklar. The gods of neutrality were tricked by Takhisis and her cohorts into building the city, not knowing, at the time, that they were forging an entrance from the Abyss into the world.
“The gods of good discovered the plot, however, and constructed the city’s three gates in such a way that they would close if the forces of evil tried to escape. In addition, to make amends for the part he played in the trickery, the Cat Lord offered his services and those of his kind to guard the city. But that, my brother, is another story and one which I have neither the breath nor the inclination to relate.”
“Agents?” said Caramon, regarding his brother skeptically. “Who were the Dark Queen’s agents in Mereklar?”
“The nine members of the council-”
“But there were ten members,” interrupted Caramon.
“And Lady Shavas,” Raistlin concluded softly.
The warrior rose to his feet, glaring at his brother in anger.
“Sit still, Caramon, and listen!”
Pierced by Raistlin’s golden-eyed stare, Caramon subsided and reluctantly sat back down.
“The council members were, in fact, demons from the Abyss who murdered the original members and took their form and features. Lady Shavas was …” Raistlin hesitated.
“Was what?” Caramon demanded.
“An … evil wizardess,” the mage lied, his gaze leaving his brother, moving to gaze at the water. “This is the chain of events as I have been able to reconstruct it.
“The demons arrived in Mereklar and, aware of the prophecy, immediately began to get rid of the city’s cats. They reduced the feline population slowly, in hopes that they would not arouse suspicion, but it didn’t work. The townspeople became upset and demanded action. To keep up the pretense, the Dark Queen’s agents were forced to appear to be interested in hiring someone to solve the mystery. That was why they posted that reward announcement.”
“And that was why Lord Manion tried to kill us!” Caramon said, his suspicion starting to crumble beneath the weight of his brother’s words.
“Yes. When that attempt failed, we made it to the Black Cat Inn and revealed our intent to go to Mereklar. The demons feared then to kill us outright, afraid it would start a panic-perhaps even a revolt-in the city. Councillor Shavas had to pretend to be thankful to see us. She had to make a show of offering us the job. I don’t believe she was ever much afraid of us,” Raistlin added dryly. “She knew she had a hold on us both.”
Caramon’s face burned. He lowered his head and moodily began to toss bits of bark into the stream. “Go on.”
“Shavas even managed to gain control of the kender, trapping Earwig with the gold ring. It turned him into a spy and eventually put him under the sway of the Dark Queen.
“When we were at the Black Cat, I had seen a magical line of power flowing into Mereklar. I discovered three of them, forming a triangle that ended at the councillor’s house. I didn’t understand their meaning until we visited the cave of the dead wizard. Our doing so, by the way, was all arranged by the Cat Lord. As a demi-god, he could not interfere directly, but he managed, nonetheless, to guide us toward the truth. I have the feeling”-Raistlin smiled slightly-“that Bast does not always play by the rules, even those laid down by heaven.