Palin touched the other manacle and, freed of his chains, Raistlin slumped forward, his body falling into the arms of the young man. Catching hold of his uncle, his horror lost in his pity and compassion, Palin gently laid the torn, bleeding body on the ground.
"But how can you go anywhere?" Palin murmured. "You are… dying."
"Yes," Raistlin answered wordlessly, his thin lips twisting in a grim smile. "In a few moments, I will die, as I have died countless mornings before this. When night falls, I will return to life and spend the night looking forward to the dawn when the Queen will come and tear my flesh, ending my life in tortured pain once more."
"What can I do?" Palin cried. "How can I help you?"
"You are helping already," Raistlin said aloud, his voice growing stronger. His hand moved feebly. "Look…"
Reluctantly, Palin glanced down at his uncle's terrible wound. It was closing! The flesh was mending! The young man stared in astonishment. If he had been a high-ranking cleric of Paladine, he could have performed no greater miracle. "What is happening? How-" he asked blankly.
"Your goodness, your love," whispered Raistlin. "So might my brother have saved me if he had possessed the courage to enter the Abyss himself." His lip curled in bitterness. "Help me stand."
Palin swallowed but said nothing as he helped the archmage rise to his feet. What could he say? Shame filled his soul, shame for his father. Well, he would make up for it.
"Give me your arm, nephew. I can walk. Come, we must reach the Portal before the Queen returns."
"Are you sure you can manage?" Palin put his arm around Raistlin s body, feeling the strange, unnatural heat that radiated from it warm his own chilled flesh.
"I must. I have no choice." Leaning upon Palin, the archmage gathered his torn black robes about him, and the two walked forward as fast as they could through the shifting sand toward where the Portal stood in the center of the red-tinged landscape.
But before he had gone very far, Raistlin stopped, his frail body wracked by coughing until he gasped for air.
Standing beside him, holding him, Palin looked at his uncle in concern. "Here," he offered. "Take your staff. It will aid your steps-"
Raistlin's hourglass eyes went to the staff in the young man's hand. Reaching out his slender, golden-skinned hand, he touched the smooth wood, stroking it lovingly. Then, looking at Palin, he smiled and shook his head.
"No, nephew," he said in his soft, shattered voice. "The staff is yours, a gift from your uncle. It would have been yours someday," he added, speaking almost to himself. "I would have trained you myself, gone with you to watch the Testing. I would have been proud… so proud…" Then, he shrugged, his gaze going to Palin. "What am I saying? I AM proud of you, my nephew. So young, to do this, to enter the Abyss-"
As if to remind them where they were and the danger they were in, a shadow fell upon them as of dark wings, hovering overhead.
Palin looked up fearfully. Then his gaze went to the Portal that seemed farther away than he remembered. "We can't outrun her!" he gasped.
"Wait!" Raistlin paused for breath, color coming back to his face. "We don't need to run. Look at the Portal, Palin. Concentrate on it. Think of it as being right in front of you."
"I don't understand-" Palin looked at Raistlin, confused.
"Concentrate!" the archmage snarled.
The shadow was growing increasingly darker. Looking at the Portal, Palin tried to do as he was told, but he kept seeing his father's face, the dragon ripping his uncle's flesh.
.. The shadow over them grew still darker, darker than
night, dark as his own fear.
"Don't be afraid." His uncle's voice came to him through the darkness. "Concentrate."
The disciplined training in magic came to Palin's aid. Thus was he forced to concentrate on the words to a spell. Closing his eyes, the young man shut everything out-his fear, his horror, his sorrow-and envisioned the Portal in his mind, standing directly before him.
"Excellent, young one," came Raistlin's soft voice.
Palin blinked, startled. The Portal was right where he had envisioned it, just a step or two away.
"Don't hesitate," Raistlin instructed, reading the young man's mind. "The way back is not difficult, not like coming through. Go ahead. I can stand on my own. I will follow…"
Palin stepped inside, feeling a slight sensation of dizziness and a momentary blindness, but it passed quickly. Looking around, he drew a deep breath of relief and thankfulness. He was standing in the laboratory once more. The Portal was behind him, though he had no clear remembrance of how he got through it, and, beside the Portal, he saw his uncle. But Raistlin was not looking at him. His eyes were on the Portal itself, a strange smile played on his thin lips.
"You are right! We must close it!" Palin said suddenly, thinking he knew his uncle's mind. "The Queen will come back into the world-"
Raising the staff, the young man stepped forward. A slender, golden-skinned hand closed over his arm. Its grip hurt, the touch burned him. Catching his breath, biting his lip from the pain, Palin looked at his uncle in confusion.
"All in good time, my dear nephew," whispered Raistlin. "All in good time…"
CHAPTER NINE
Raistlin drew the young man nearer, smiling slightly as Palin flinched, noting the look of pain in the green eyes. Still Raistlin held him, regarding him searchingly, studying the features, probing the depths of his soul.
"There is much of myself in you, young one," Raistlin said, reaching up to brush back a lock of hair that had fallen across Palin's pale face. "More of me than of your father. And he loves you best for that, doesn't he? Oh, he is proud of your brothers"-Raistlin shrugged, as the young man started to protest-"but you he cherishes, protects…"
Flushing, Palin broke free of Raistlin's grip. But he might have spared his energy. The archmage held him fast-with his eyes, not his hands.
"He'll smother you!" Raistlin hissed. "Smother you as he did me! He will prevent you taking the Test. You know that, don't you."
"He-he doesn't understand," Palin faltered. "He's only trying to do what he thinks-"
"Don't lie to me, Palin," Raistlin said softly, placing his slender fingers on the young man's lips. "Don't lie to yourself. Speak the truth that is in your soul. I see it in you so clearly! The hatred, the jealousy! Use it, Palin! Use it to make you strong-as I did!"
The golden-skinned hand traced over the bones of Palin's face-the firm, strong chin, the clenched jaw, the smooth, high cheekbones. Palin trembled at the touch, but more still at the expression in the burning, hourglass eyes. "You should have been mine! My son!" Raistlin murmured. "I would have raised you to power! What wonders I would have shown you, Palin. Upon the wings of magic we would have flown the world-cheered the winner of the fights for succession among the minotaur, gone swimming with the sea elves, battled giants, watched the birth of a golden dragon… All this could have been yours, should have been yours, Palin, if only they-"
A fit of coughing checked the archmage. Gasping, Raistlin staggered, clutching his chest. Catching hold of him in his strong arms, Palin led his uncle to a dusty, cushioned chair that sat near the Portal. Beneath the dust, he could discern dark splotches on the fabric-as though it had, long ago, been stained with blood. In his concern for his uncle, Palin thought little of it. Raistlin sank down into the chair, choking, coughing into a soft, white cloth that Palin drew from his own robes and handed to him. Then, leaning the staff carefully against the wall, the young man knelt down beside his uncle.
"Is there something I can do? Something I can get for you? That herbal mixture you drank." His glance went to the jars of herbs on a shelf. "If you tell me how to fix it-"