But, finally, the spasm eased. Raistlin was able to draw a shuddering breath and motioned for his drink. Amberyl held it to his lips, her nose wrinkling at the foul smell.
Slowly, Raistlin sipped it. "I wondered if you would find us here," he whispered. "I wondered if the wizards would allow you inside the forest."
"I wondered the same myself," Amberyl said softly. "As for me finding you" — she sighed — "if I hadn't, you would have found me. You would have come back to me. You couldn't help yourself."
"So that's the way it is," Raistlin said, his breathing coming easier.
"That's the way it is…" Amberyl murmured.
"Help me lie down," Raistlin ordered, sinking back among his blankets. Amberyl made him as comfortable as possible, her gaze going to the dying fire. A sudden gust of wind blew the blanket aside. A flurry of snow hissed and danced on the glowing embers.
"I feel myself growing strangely weak, as though my life were being drained off," the mage said, huddling into the wet blankets. "Is that a result of the spell?"
"Yes… I feel it, too. And it isn't a spell," Amberyl said, doing what she could to stir up the blaze. Coming around to sit in front of the mage, she clasped her arms around her legs, looking at him as intently as he stared at her.
"Take off your scarf," he whispered.
Slowly, Amberyl unwound the scarf from her face,letting it fall about her shoulders. She shook out her snow wet hair, feeling drops of water spatter on her hands.
"How beautiful you — " He broke off. "What will happen to me?" Raistlin asked abruptly. "Will I die?"
"I–I don't know," Amberyl answered reluctantly, her gaze going to the fire. She couldn't bear to look at him. The mage's eyes burned through her, touching something deep inside, filling her with sweet pain. "I have… never heard of this… happening to — to a… human before."
"So you are not human," Raistlin remarked.
"No, I am not," Amberyl replied, still unable to face him.
"You are not elven, nor any of the other races that I am familiar with who live upon Krynn — and I tell you — What is your name?"
"Amberyl."
"Amberyl," he said it lingeringly, as though tasting it. She shivered again.
"I tell you, Amberyl," he repeated, "I am familiar with all the races on Krynn."
"Wise you may be, mage," Amberyl murmured, "but the mysteries of this world that have yet to be discovered are as numberless as the snowflakes."
"You will not reveal your secret to me?"
Amberyl shook her glistening hair. "It is not my secret alone."
Raistlin was silent. Amberyl did not speak either. Both sat listening to the hissing and popping of the wood and the whistling of the wind among the trees.
"So… I am to die, then," Raistlin said, breaking the silence at last. He didn't sound angry, just weary and resigned.
"No, no, no!" Amberyl cried, her eyes going to the mage. Reaching out impulsively, she took his thin, wasted hand in her own, cradling her cheek against it. "No," she repeated. "Because then I would die."
Raistlin snatched his hand from hers. Propping himself up weakly on his elbow, his golden eyes glittering, he whispered hoarsely, "There IS a cure? You can break this… this enchantment?"
"Yes," Amberyl answered without a voice, feeling the warm blood suffuse her face.
"How?" Raistlin demanded, his hand clenching.
"First," said Amberyl, swallowing, "I–I must tell you something about… about the VALIN."
"The what?" Raistlin asked quickly. Amberyl could see his eyes flicker. Even facing death, his mind was working, catching hold eagerly of this new information, storing it away.
"The valin. That is what it is called in our language. It means…" She paused, frowning, trying to think. I suppose the closest meaning in your language is life-mate."
The startled expression on the mage's face was so funny that Amberyl laughed nervously. "Wait, let me explain," she said, feeling her own face growing more and more flushed. "For reasons of our own, in ages so far back that they are past reckoning, my people fled this land and retreated to one where we could live undisturbed. Our race is, as you were able to detect, long-lived. But we are not immortal. As all others, in order for our race to survive, we must produce children. But there were few of us and fewer still as time went by. The land we chose to live in is a harsh one. We tend to be loners, living by ourselves with little interaction even among our own kind. What you know as families are unknown among us. We saw our race begin to dwindle, and the elders knew that soon it must die out completely. They were able to establish the VALIN to ensure that our young people… that they…"
Raistlin's face had not changed expression, his eyes continued to stare at her. But Amberyl could not continue speaking beneath that strange, unblinking gaze.
"You chose to leave your land?" Raistlin asked. "Or were you sent away?"
"I was sent to this land… by the elders. There are others here as well…"
"Why? What for?"
Amberyl shook her head. Picking up a stick, she poked at the fire, giving herself an excuse to avoid his eyes.
"But surely your elders knew that something like this must happen if you go out into other lands," Raistlin said bitterly. "Or have they been away THAT long?"
"You have no conception of how long we have been away," Amberyl said softly, staring at the fire that was flickering out despite her best efforts to keep it going. "And, no, it should not have happened. Not with one who is not of our race." Her gaze went back to Raistlin. "And now it is my turn to ask questions. What is there about you that is different from other humans? For there is something, something besides your golden skin and eyes that see death in the living. Looking at you, I perceive the shadow of another. You are young, yet there is a timelessness about you. Who are YOU, Raistlin, that this has happened between us?"
To her amazement, Raistlin blanched, his eyes widening in fear, then narrowing in suspicion. "It seems we both have our secrets." He shrugged. "And now, Amberyl, it appears that we will never know what caused this to happen. All that should really concern us is what must be done to rid ourselves of this… this Valin?"
Shutting her eyes, Amberyl licked her lips. Her mouth was dry, the cave was suddenly unbearably cold. Shivering, she tried more than once to speak.
"What?" Raistlin's voice grated.
"I… must bear… your child," Amberyl said weakly, her throat constricting.
For long moments there was silence. Amberyl did not dare open her eyes, she did not dare look at the mage. Ashamed and afraid, she buried her face in her arms. But an odd sound made her look up.
Raistlin was lying back on his blankets, laughing. It was almost inaudible laughter, more a wheeze and a choking, but laughter nonetheless — taunting, cutting laughter. And Amberyl saw, with pity in her heart, that its sharp edge was directed against himself.
"Don't, please, don't," Amberyl said, crawling nearer to the mage.
"Look at me, lady!" Raistlin gasped, his laughter catching in his throat, setting him to coughing. Grinning at her mirthlessly, he gestured outside. "You had best wait for my brother," he said. "Caramon will be back soon…"
"No, he won't," Amberyl said softly, creeping closer still to Raistlin. "Your brother will not be back before morning."
Raistlin's lips parted. His eyes — filled with a sudden hunger — devoured Amberyl's face. "Morning," he repeated.
"Morning," she said.
Reaching up a trembling hand, Raistlin brushed back the beautiful hair from her delicate face. "The fire will be out long before morning."