‘Must...rest...’ Laurana said, her throat aching. She started to sit down, but strong hands grabbed her.
‘No!’ Silvara said urgently. ‘Not here! Just a few more feet! Come on! Keep going!’
The Wilder elf dragged Laurana forward. Dimly she was aware of Sturm helping Flint to his feet, the dwarf groaning and swearing. Between them, Theros and Sturm dragged the dwarf up the trail. Tasslehoff stumbled behind, too tired even to talk.
Finally they came to the top of the pass. Laurana slumped into the snow, past caring what happened to her. The rest sank down beside her, all except Silvara who was staring below them.
Where does she get the strength? Laurana thought through a bleak haze of pain. But she was too exhausted to question. At the moment, she was too tired to care whether the elves found her or not. Silvara turned to face them.
‘We must split up,’ she said decisively.
Laurana stared at her, uncomprehending.
‘No,’ Gilthanas began, trying without success to get to his feet.
‘Listen to me!’ Silvara said urgently, kneeling down. ‘The elves are too close. They will catch us for certain, then we must either fight or surrender.’
‘Fight,’ Derek muttered savagely.
‘There is a better way,’ Silvara hissed. ‘You, knight, must take the dragon orb to Sancrist alone! We will draw off the pursuit.’
For a moment no one spoke. Everyone stared silently at Silvara, considering this new possibility. Derek lifted his head, his eyes gleaming. Laurana flashed a look of alarm at Sturm.
‘I do not think one person should be charged with such a grave responsibility,’ Sturm said, his breath coming haltingly.
‘Two of us should go—at least.’
‘Meaning yourself, Brightblade?’ Derek asked angrily.
‘Yes, of course, Sturm should go,’ Laurana said, ‘if anyone.’
‘I can draw a map through the mountains,’ Silvara said eagerly. ‘The way is not difficult. The outpost of the knights is only a two-day journey from here.’
‘But we can’t fly,’ Sturm protested. ‘What about our tracks? Surely the elves will see we’ve split up.’
‘An avalanche,’ Silvara suggested. ‘Theros throwing the boulders down behind us gave me the idea.’ She glanced up. They followed her gaze. Snow-covered peaks towered above them, the snow hanging over the edges.
‘I can cause an avalanche with my magic,’ Gilthanas said slowly. ‘It will obliterate everyone’s tracks.’
‘Not entirely,’ cautioned Silvara. ‘We must allow ours to be found once again—though not too obviously. After all, we want them to follow us.’
‘But where will we go?’ asked Laurana. ‘I don’t intend to wander aimlessly through the wilderness.’
‘I—I know a place.’ Silvara faltered, her gaze dropping to the ground. ‘It is secret, known only to my people. I will take you there.’ She clasped her hands together. ‘Please, we must hurry. There isn’t much time!’
‘I will take the orb to Sancrist,’ Derek said, ‘and I will go alone. Sturm should go with your group. You’ll need a fighter.’
‘We have fighters,’ Laurana said. ‘Theros, my brother, the dwarf. I, myself, have seen my share of battle—’
‘And me,’ piped Tasslehoff.
‘And the kender,’ Laurana added grimly. ‘Besides, it will not come to bloodshed.’ Her eyes saw Sturm’s troubled face and wondered what he was thinking. Her voice softened. ‘The decision is up to Sturm, of course. He must do as he believes best, but I think he should accompany Derek.’
‘I agree,’ muttered Flint. ‘After all, we’re not the ones who are going to be in danger. We’ll be safer without the dragon orb. It’s the orb the elves want.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Silvara, her voice soft. ‘We’ll be safer without the orb. It is you who will be in danger.’
‘Then my way is clear,’ Sturm said. ‘I will go with Derek.’
‘And if I order you to stay behind?’ Derek demanded.
‘You have no authority over me,’ Sturm said, his brown eyes dark. ‘Have you forgotten? I am not a knight.’
There was a painful, profound silence. Derek stared at Sturm intently.
‘No,’ he said, ‘and if I have my way, you never will be!’
Sturm flinched, as if Derek had struck him a physical blow. Then he stood up, sighing heavily.
Derek had already begun to gather his gear. Sturm moved more slowly, picking up his bedroll with thoughtful deliberation. Laurana pulled herself to her feet and went to Sturm.
‘Here,’ she said, reaching into her pack. ‘You’ll need food—’
‘You could come with us,’ Sturm said in low tones as she divided up their supplies. ‘Tanis knows we were going to Sancrist. He will come there, too, if possible.’
‘You’re right,’ Laurana said, her eyes brightening. ‘Perhaps that would be a good idea—’ Then her eyes went to Silvara. The Wilder elf held the dragon orb, still shrouded in its cloak. Silvara’s eyes were closed, almost as if she were communing with some unseen spirit. Sighing, Laurana shook her head. ‘No, I’ve got to stay with her, Sturm,’ she said softly. ‘Something’s not right. I don’t understand—’ she broke off, unable to articulate her thoughts. ‘What about Derek?’ she asked instead. ‘Why is he so insistent on going alone? The dwarf’s right about the danger. If the elves capture you, without us, they won’t hesitate to kill you.’
Sturm’s face was drawn, bitter. ‘Can you ask? Lord Derek Crownguard returns alone out of horrifying dangers, bearing with him the coveted dragon orb—’ Sturm shrugged.
‘But there’s so much at stake,’ Laurana protested.
‘You’re right, Laurana,’ Sturm said harshly. ‘There’s a lot at stake. More than you know—the leadership of the Knights of Solamnia. I can’t explain it now...’
‘Come along, Brightblade, if you’re coming!’ Derek snarled.
Sturm took the food, stowing it in his pack. ‘Farewell, Laurana,’ he said, bowing to her with the quiet gallantry that marked all his actions.
‘Farewell, Sturm, my friend,’ she whispered, putting her arms around the knight.
He held her closely, then kissed her gently on the forehead.
‘We will give the orb to the wise men to study. The Council of Whitestone will meet soon,’ he said. ‘The elves will be invited to attend, since they are advisory members. You must come to Sancrist as soon as possible, Laurana. Your presence will be needed.’
‘I’ll be there, the gods willing,’ Laurana said, her eyes going to Silvara, who was handing Derek the dragon orb. An expression of inexpressible relief flitted over Silvara’s face when Derek turned to go.
Sturm said good-bye, then he plunged into the snow after Derek. The companions saw a flash of light as his shield caught the sun.
Suddenly Laurana took a step forward. ‘Wait!’ she cried. ‘I’ve got to stop them. They should take the dragonlance, too.’
‘No!’ Silvara shouted, running to block Laurana’s path.
Angrily, Laurana reached out to shove the girl aside, then she saw Silvara’s face and her hand stopped.
‘What are you doing, Silvara?’ Laurana asked. ‘Why did you send them off? Why were you so eager to split us up? Why give them the orb and not the lance—’
Silvara didn’t answer. She simply shrugged and stared at Laurana with eyes bluer than midnight. Laurana felt her will being drained by those blue, blue eyes. She was reminded terrifyingly of Raistlin.
Gilthanas, too, stared at Silvara with a perplexed and worried expression. Theros stood grim and stern, glancing at Laurana as if beginning to share her doubts. But they were not able to move. They were completely under Silvara’s control—yet what had she done to them? They could only stand and stare at the Wilder elf as she walked calmly over to where Laurana had wearily let fall her pack. Bending down, Silvara unwrapped the broken piece of splintered wood. Then she raised it in the air.