Tanis, shivering, looked straight up to the top. In Qualinost, there were murals on the ceiling, portraying the sun, the constellations, and the two moons. But here there was nothing but a carved hole in the top of the Tower. Through the hole, he could see only empty blackness. The stars did not shine. It was as if a perfectly round, black sphere had appeared in the starry darkness. Before he could ponder what this portended, he heard Raistlin speak softly, and he turned.
There, in the shadows at the front of the audience chamber was Alhana’s father, Lorac, the elfking. His shrunken and cadaverous body almost disappeared in a huge stone throne, fancifully carved with birds and animals. It must once have been beautiful, but now the animals’ heads were skulls.
Lorac sat motionless, his head thrown back, his mouth wide in a silent scream. His hand rested upon a round crystal globe.
‘Is he alive?’ Tanis asked in horror.
‘Yes,’ Raistlin answered, ‘undoubtedly to his sorrow.’
‘What’s wrong with him?’
‘He is living a nightmare,’ Raistlin answered, pointing to Lorac’s hand. ‘There is the dragon orb. Apparently he tried to take control of it. He was not strong enough, so the orb seized control of him. The orb called Cyan Bloodbane here to guard Silvanesti, and the dragon decided to destroy it by whispering nightmares into Lorac’s ear. Lorac’s belief in the nightmare was so strong, his empathy with his land so great, that the nightmare became reality. Thus, it was his dream we were living when we entered. His dream—and our own. For we too came under the dragon’s control when we stepped into Silvanesti.’
‘You knew we faced this!’ Tanis accused, grabbing Raistlin by the shoulder and spinning him around. ‘You knew what we were walking into, there on the shores of the river—’
‘Tanis,’ Caramon said warningly, removing the half-elf’s hand. ‘Leave him alone.’
‘Perhaps,’ Raistlin said, rubbing his shoulder, his eyes narrow. ‘Perhaps not. I need not reveal my knowledge or its source to you!’
Before he could reply, Tanis heard a moan. It sounded as if it came from the base of the throne. Casting Raistlin an angry glance, Tanis turned quickly from him and stared into the shadows. Warily he approached, his sword drawn.
‘Alhana!’ The elfmaid crouched at her father’s feet, her head in his lap, weeping. She did not seem to hear Tanis. He went to her. ‘Alhana,’ he said gently.
She looked up at him without recognition.
‘Alhana,’ he said again.
She blinked, then shuddered, and grabbed hold of his hand as if clutching at reality.
‘Half-Elven!’ she whispered.
‘How did you get here? What happened?’
‘I heard the mage say it was a dream,’ Alhana answered, shivering at the memory, ‘and I—I refused to believe in the dream. I woke, but only to find the nightmare was real! My beautiful land filled with horrors!’ She hid her face in her hands. Tanis knelt beside her and held her close.
‘I made my way here. It took—days. Through the nightmare.’ She gripped Tanis tightly. ‘When I entered the Tower, the dragon caught me. He brought me here, to my father, thinking to make Lorac murder me. But not even in his nightmare could my father harm his own child. So Cyan tortured him with visions—of what he would do to me.’
‘And you? You saw them, too?’ Tanis whispered, stroking the woman’s long, dark hair with a soothing hand.
After a moment, Alhana spoke. ‘It wasn’t so bad. I knew it was nothing but a dream. But to my poor father it was reality—’ She began to sob.
The half-elf motioned to Caramon. ‘Take Alhana to a room where she can lie down. We’ll do what we can for her father.’
‘I will be all right, my brother,’ Raistlin said in answer to Caramon’s look of concern. ‘Do as Tanis says.’
‘Come, Alhana,’ Tanis urged her, helping her stand. She staggered with weariness. ‘Is there a place you can rest? You’ll need your strength.’
At first she started to argue, then she realized how weak she was. ‘Take me to my father’s room,’ she said. ‘I’ll show you the way.’ Caramon put his arm around her, and slowly they began to walk from the chamber.
Tanis turned back to Lorac. Raistlin stood before the elf king. Tanis heard the mage speaking softly to himself.
‘What is it?’ the half-elf said quietly. ‘Is he dead?’
‘Who?’ Raistlin started, blinking. He saw Tanis looking at Lorac. ‘Oh, Lorac? No, I do not believe so. Not yet.’
Tanis realized the mage had been staring at the dragon orb.
‘Is the orb still in control?’ Tanis asked nervously, his eyes on the object they had gone through so much to find.
The dragon orb was a huge globe of crystal, at least twenty-four inches across. It sat upon a stand of gold that had been carved in hideous, twisted designs, mirroring the twisted, tormented life of Silvanesti. Though the orb must have been the source of the brilliant green light, there was now only a faint, iridescent, pulsing glow at its heart.
Raistlin’s hands hovered over the globe, but, Tanis noted, he was careful not to touch it as he chanted the spidery words of magic. A faint aura of red began to surround the globe. Tanis backed away.
‘Do not fear,’ Raistlin whispered, watching as the aura died. ‘It is my spell. The globe is enchanted—still. Its magic has not died with the passing of the dragon, as I thought possible. It is still in control, however.’
‘Control of Lorac?’
‘Control of itself. It has released Lorac.’
‘Did you do this?’ Tanis murmured. ‘Did you defeat it?’
‘The orb is not defeated!’ Raistlin said sharply. ‘With help, I was able to defeat the dragon. Realizing Cyan Bloodbane was losing, the orb sent him away. It let go of Lorac because it could no longer use him. But the orb is still very powerful.’
‘Raistlin, tell me—’
‘I have no more to say Tanis.’ The young mage coughed. ‘I must conserve my energy.’
Whose help had Raistlin received? What else did he know of this orb? Tanis opened his mouth to pursue the subject, then he saw Raistlin’s golden eyes flicker. The half-elf fell silent.
‘We can free Lorac now,’ Raistlin added. Walking to the elf king, he gently removed Lorac’s hand from the dragon orb, then put his slender fingers to Lorac’s neck. ‘He lives. For the time being. The lifebeat is weak. You may come closer.’
But Tanis, his eyes on the dragon orb, held back. Raistlin glanced at the half-elf, amused, then beckoned.
Reluctantly, Tanis approached. ‘Tell me one more thing—can the orb still be of use to us?’
For long moments, Raistlin was silent. Then, faintly, he replied, ‘Yes, if we dare.’
Lorac drew a shivering breath, then screamed—a thin, wailing scream horrible to hear. His hands—little more than living skeletal claws—twisted and writhed. His eyes were tightly closed. In vain, Tanis tried to calm him. Lorac screamed until he was out of breath, and then he screamed silently.
‘Father!’ Tanis heard Alhana cry. She reappeared in the doorway of the audience chamber and pushed Caramon aside. Running to her father, she grasped his bony hands in hers. Kissing his hands, she wept, pleading for him to be silent.
‘Rest, Father,’ she repeated over and over. ‘The nightmare is ended. The dragon is gone. You can sleep, Father!’