“The dead wizard showed me what I needed to know-both about Mereklar and about Shavas.”
“He didn’t say anything about her!” Caramon protested.
“He did. To me.”
“Why would he?”
“To avenge himself, avenge his death. Shavas killed him, you see, my brother. He was a threat to her. He knew the truth. ‘A mask of flesh.’ ” Raistlin sighed. “I saw her truly for what she was the first time I met her. I saw-” He paused, shuddering.
“What?”
Raistlin looked at his twin intently, then sighed and glanced away. “It doesn’t matter what I saw. You wouldn’t understand. At any rate, I knew the truth. I knew what she was. I knew why she had tried to have you assassinated-”
“I don’t believe it!” Caramon shook his head stubbornly.
“Don’t persist in being a fool! She was the only one who knew we would be returning to the inn at that time that night. She sent her assassin ahead of us, to wait for us in our room.”
“But it was me he tried to kill!”
“So that you would no longer be around to protect me.”
“Oh, you’re saying she wanted you?” Caramon sneered.
“Yes, but not the way you imagine. She wanted … my soul.”
Raistlin whispered the word. Caramon, seeing his brother’s strained face, could not repress a shiver. Against his will, he was beginning to believe.
“When the attempt to kill you failed,” the mage continued, “Shavas seduced you, rendering you helpless to harm her. She sought to catch me in a magical trap. That, however, failed. She was not too concerned, believing that I, too, would fall under her spell as had you. Then, disaster struck.
“The Lord of the Cats, enraged by the murder of his people, appeared. He knew the demons for what they were, but not why they were here. He tried to get information from them. When that failed, he started killing them, one by one, hoping to scare the others and rouse the townspeople to a knowledge of their danger.
“The rest of what happened after that-about the gate, the demons’ entry into the world, and their failure-you know, my brother, for you were part of the reason they failed.” Raistlin fell silent.
“Shavas?” Caramon persisted, softly.
“Yes, Shavas. I knew she had to be stopped. She was supremely powerful. If she were free to act, she would have insured her Queen’s entry. You and the kender and perhaps even the Cat Lord would have fallen. And so, I prepared a poison. I took it with me to her house and I put it in the brandy. To allay her suspicions, I drank the poison along with her.”
Caramon sucked in his breath, clenched his hands to stop them from trembling. He couldn’t believe his twin’s terrible calm. He stared at Raistlin wildly.
“But you’re not-you won’t-”
“Die? No, the poison did not affect me. You see, my brother, I was able, at last, to command the power of the Great Eye. I developed a poison that would channel the Eye’s power and destroy Shavas.”
“I don’t understand!” Caramon let his head fall into his hands.
“It’s simple.” Raistlin spoke like a teacher to a dullard pupil. “When induced into a user of magic, the poison I made causes all magical energy suffusing an area to flow into the wizard. After I refused her offer to align myself with the Dark Queen, Shavas cast a spell to destroy me. She destroyed herself, instead.”
“But, since you drank the poison-” Caramon hesitated, staring in disbelief.
“Yes.” Raistlin nodded. “If I had tried to cast a spell, it would have destroyed me instantly. I left myself defenseless. But it was the only way … the only way.”
“I can’t believe it,” said Caramon, but he spoke in a tone that admitted his belief. “She was so beautiful! So young!”
Raistlin began to cough. Hiding his face behind the white cloth he held to his mouth, he gazed at his brother from the shadows of his cowl.
I could tell you the truth. I could tell you that she was a lich. I could tell you she had been alive since before the Cataclysm. I could tell you that she had been Councillor of Mereklar since its beginning, taking the guise of one person, then another. I could tell you her life was bound in that opal necklace, giving her the semblance of youth, of beauty. I could tell you, my brother, that the lips you kissed were, in reality, rotting and decaying flesh.…
“Yes, my brother,” said Raistlin, reaching out his hand to touch Caramon’s arm. “She was very beautiful.”
The big man lifted his head and gazed at his twin in astonishment. Gingerly, fearing rebuff, he laid his hand on his brother’s.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Raistlin curled his thin fingers around his brother’s hand and held it tightly. The twins sat quietly together for a long time beside the stream, watching the water flow.