''Kill me, knight, and you doom yourself and the others to death, for through my magic-and my magic alone-will you be able to defeat Cyan Bloodbane!"
"Hold, Stucco!'" Though his soul was Filled with loathing, Tanis knew the mage was right. He could feel Raistlin's power radiate amp;rough the black robes. `We need his help:'
"No;' Sturm said, shaking his head and backing away as Raistlin neared the group. "I said before-I will not rely on his protection. Not now. Farewell, Tanis"
Before any of them could strap him Sturm walked past Raistlin toward -Cyan Bloodbane.. The great dragon's head wove back and forth in eager anticipation of this first challenge to his power since he had conquered Siilvanesti.
Tanis clutched Raistlin. "Do something!"
"The knight is, in my way. Whatever spell I cast will destroy him too:" Raistlin answered,
"Sturm!" Tanis shouted, his voice echoing mournfully.
The knight hesitated. He was, listening but not to Tanis's voice. What he heard was the -clear, clarion call of a trumpet, its music cold as, the air from the snow-covered mountains of his homeland, Pure and crisp, the trumpet call rose bravely above the darkness and dead and -despair to pierce his heart.
Sturm answered the trumpet's call with a glad battle cry. He raised his sword-the sword of his father" its antique blade twined with the kingfisher and the rose. Silver moonlight streaming through a broken window caught the sword in a pure-white radiance that shredded the noxious green air.
Again the trumpet sounded, and again Sturm answered, but this time his voice faltered, for the trumpet call he heard had changed tone. No longer sweet and pure, it was braying and harsh and shrill.
No". thought Sturm in horror as he neared the dragon. Those were the horns of the enemy! He had been lured into a trap! Around him now he could see draconian soldiers, creeping from behind the dragon, laughing cruelly at his gullibility.
Sturm stopped, gripping his sword in a hand that was sweating inside its glove. The dragon loomed above him, a creature undefeatable, surrounded by masses of his troops, slavering and licking his jowls with his curled tongue.
Fear knotted Sturm's stomach; his skin grew cold and clammy. The horn call sounded a third time, terrible and evil. It was all over. It had all been for nothing. Death, ignominious defeat awaited him. Despair descending, he looked around fearfully. Where was Tanis? He needed Tanis, but he could not find him. Desperately he repeated the code of the knights, MY Honor !s My Life, but the words sounded hollow and meaningless in his ears. He was not a knight. What did the Code mean to him? He had been living a lie! Sturm's swordarm wavered, then dropped; his sword fell from his hand and he sank to his knees, shivering and weeping like a child, hiding his head from the terror before him.
With one swipe of his shining talons, Cyan Bloodbane ended Sturm's life, impaling the knight's body: upon a blood-stained claw. Disdainfully, Cyan shook the wretched human to the floor while the draconians swept shrieking toward the knight's still-living body, intent upon hacking it to pieces.
But they found their way blocked. A bright figure, shining silver in the moonlight, ran to the knight's body. Reaching down swiftly, Laurana lifted Sturm's sword. Then, straightening, she faced the draconians.
"Touch him and you twill die;' she said through her tears.
"Laurana!" Tanis screamed and tried to run forward to help her. But draconians sprang at him. He slashed at them desperately, trying to reach the elfrmaid, Just when he had wan through, he heard Kitiara call his name. Whirling, he saw her being beaten back by four draconians. The half-elf stopped in agony, hesitating, and at that moment Laurana fell across Sturm's body, her own body pierced by draconian swords.
"No! Laurana!" Tanis shouted. Starting to go to her, he heard Kitiara cry out again. He stopped, turning. Clutching at his head, he stood irresolute and helpless, forced to watch as Kitiara fell beneath the enemy.
The half-elf sobbed in frenzy, feeling himself begin to sink into madness, longing for death to end this pain. He clutched the magic sword of Kith-Kanan and rushed toward the dragon, his one thought to kill and be killed.
But Raistlin blocked his path, stranding in front of the dragon like a black obelisk.
Tanis fell to the floor, knowing his death was fixed. Clasping the small golden ring firmly in his hand, he waited to die.
Then he heard the mage chanting strange and powerful words. He heard the dragon roar in rage. The two were battling, but Tanis didn't care. With eyes closed fast, he blotted out the sounds .around him, blotted out life. Only one thing remained real. The golden ring he held tightly in his hand.
Suddenly Tanis became acutely conscious of the ring pressing into his palm: the metal was cool, its edges rough. He could feel the golden twisted ivy leaves bite into his flesh.
Tanis closed his hand, squeezing the ring. The gold bit into his flesh, bit deeply. Pain . . . real pain . . .
I am dreaming!
Tanis opened his eyes. Solinari's silver moonlight flooded the Tower, mingled with the red beams of Lunitari. He was lying on a cold, marble floor. His hand was clasped tightly, so tightly that pain had wakened him. Pain? The ring. The dream! Remembering the dream, Tanis sat up in terror and looked around. But the hall was empty except for one other person. Raistlin slumped against a wall, coughing.
The half-elf staggered to his feet and walked shakily toward Raistlin. As he drew nearer, he could see blood on the mage's lips. The blood gleamed red in Lunitari's light-as red as the robes that covered Raistlin's frail., shivering body.
The dream.
Tanis opened his hand. It was empty.
Chapter II
The Dream ends. The Nightmare begins.
The half-elf stared around the hallway. It was as empty as his hand. The bodies of his friends were gone. The dragon was gone. Wind blew through a shattered wall, fluttering Waistline's red robes about him, scattering dead aspen leaves along the floor. The half-elf walked over to Raistlin, catching the young mage in his arms as he collapsed.
"Where are they?" Tanis asked, shaking Raistlin. "Laurana? Sturm? And the others, your brother? Are they dead?" He glanced around. "And the dragon-"
"The dragon is gone. The orb sent the dragon away when it realized it could not defeat me:" Pushing himself from Tanis's grasp, Raistlin stood alone, huddled against the marble wall. "It could not defeat me as I was. A child could defeat me now;" he said bitterly. "As for the others"-he shrugged-"I do not know:' He turned his strange eyes on Tanis. "You lived, half-elf, because your love was strong. I lived because of my ambition. We clung to reality in the midst of the nightmare. Who can say with the others?"
"Caramon's alive, then;" Tanis said. "Because of his love. With his last breath, he begged me to spare your life. Tell me, mage, was this future you say we saw irreversible?"
"Why ask?" Raistlin said wearily. "Would you kill me, Tanis? Now?"
"I don't know;' Tanis said softly, thinking of Caramon's dying words. "Perhaps:"
Raisted smiled bitterly. "Save your energy;" he said. "The future changes as we stand here, else we are the game pieces of the gods, not their heirs, as we have been promised. But"the mage pushed himself away from the wall-"this is far from over. We must find Lorac-and the dragon orb:"