Looking up, Palin saw a gentleness in the arch-mage's face, a gentleness few in the world had ever seen. The image of the young man in the black robes faded from the glittering golden eyes, replaced by a yearning, a hunger for love. Now it was Palin who reached out and clasped hold of Raistlin's hand. "Close the Portal, uncle!" the young man pleaded. "Come home and live with us! The room my father built for you is still there, in the Inn. My mother has kept the plaque with the wizard's mark on it! It is hidden in a chest of rosewood, but I've seen it. I've held it and dreamed of this so often! Come home! Teach me what you know! I would honor you, revere you! We could travel, as you said. Show me the wonders your eyes have seen…"
"Home." The word lingered on Raistlin's lips as though he were tasting it. "Home. How often I dreamed of it"-his golden-eyed gaze went to the wall, shining with its ghastly light-"especially with the coming of dawn…"
Then, glancing at Palin from within the shadows of his hood, Raistlin smiled. "Yes, nephew," he said softly. "I believe I will come home with you. I need time to rest, to recover my strength, to rid myself of… old dreams." Palin saw the eyes darken with remembered pain.
Coughing, Raistlin motioned the young man to help him. Carefully, Palin leaned the staff against the wall and assisted Raistlin to the chair. Sinking into it weakly, Raistlin gestured for the young man to pour him another glass of wine. The archmage leaned his head back wearily into the cushions. "I need time…" he continued, moistening his lips with the wine. "Time to train you, my apprentice. Time to train you… and to train your brothers."
"My brothers?" Palin repeated in astonishment.
"Why, yes, young one." Amusement tinged Raistlin's voice as he looked at the young man standing by his chair. "I need generals for my legions. Your brothers will be ideal-"
"Legions!" Palin cried. "No, that's not what I meant! You must come home to live with us in peace. You've earned it! You sacrificed yourself for the world-"
"H" Raistlin interrupted. "I sacrificed myself for the world?" The archmage began to laugh-dreadful, fearful laughter that set the shadows of the laboratory dancing in delight like demons. "Is that what they say of me?" Raistlin laughed until he choked. A coughing fit seized him, this one worse than the others.
Palin watched helplessly as his uncle writhed in pain. The young man could still hear that mocking laughter dinning in his ears. When the spasm passed, and he could breathe, Raistlin lifted his head and, with a weak motion of his hand, beckoned Palin near.
Palin saw blood upon the cloth in his uncle's hand, blood flecked Raistlin's ashen lips. Loathing and horror came over the young man, but he drew nearer anyway, compelled by a terrible fascination to kneel down beside his uncle.
"Know this, Palin!" Raistlin whispered, speaking with great effort, his words barely audible. "I sacrificed… myself… for. Myself! Sinking back into his chair, he gasped for breath.
When he could move, he reached out a shaking, blood-stained hand and caught hold of Palin's white robes. "I saw… what I must… become… if I succeeded. Nothing! That… was… all. Dwindle… to… nothing. The world… dead… This way"-His hand gestured feebly at the wall, the gruesome pool beneath it. His eyes gleamed feverishly-"there was… still… a chance… for me… to return…"
'"No!" Palin cried, struggling to free himself from Raistlin's grasp. "I don't believe you!"
"Why not?" Raistlin kept hold of the young man. His voice grew stronger. "You told them yourself. Don't you remember, Palin? 'A man must put the magic first, the world second… ' That's what you said to them in the Tower. The world doesn't matter to you anymore than it does to me! Nothing matters- your brothers, your father! The magic! The power! That's all that means anything to either of us!"
"I don't know!" Palin cried brokenly, his hands clawing at Raistlin's. "I can't think! Let me go! Let me go…" His fingers fell nervelessly from Raistlin's wrists, his head sank into his hands. Tears filled his eyes.
"Poor young one," Raistlin said smoothly. Laying his hand on Palin's head, he drew it gently into his lap and stroked the auburn hair soothingly.
Wracking sobs tore at Palin's body. He was bereft, alone. Lies, all lies! Everyone had lied to him-his father, the mages, the world! What did it matter, after all? The magic. That was all he had. His uncle was right. The burning touch of those slender fingers; the soft black velvet beneath his cheek, wet with his tears; the smell of rose petals and spice. That would be his life… That and this bitter emptiness within. An emptiness that all the world could not fill.
"Weep, Palin," Raistlin said softly. "Weep as I wept once, long, long ago. Then you will realize, as I did, that it does no good. No one hears you, sobbing in the night alone."
Palin lifted his tear-stained face suddenly, staring into Raistlin's eyes.
"At last you understand." Raistlin smiled. His hand stroked back the wet hair from Palin's eyes. "Get hold of yourself, young one. It is time for us to go, before the Dark Queen comes. There is much to be done-"
Palin regarded Raistlin calmly, though the young man's body still shuddered from his sobs and he could see his uncle only through a blur of tears. "Yes," he said. "At last I understand. Too late, it seems. But I understand. And you are wrong, uncle," he murmured brokenly. "Someone die? hear you crying in the night. My father."
Rising to his feet, Palin brushed his hand across his eyes, keeping his gaze steadfastly on his uncle. "I am going to close the Portal."
"Don't be a fool!" Raistlin said with a sneer. "I won't let you! You know that!"
"I know," said Palin, drawing a shivering breath. "You will stop me-"
"I will kill you!"
"You will… kill me…" Palin continued, his voice faltering only slightly. Turning around, he reached out his hand for the Staff of Magius that stood leaning against the desk beside Raistlin's chair. The light of the crystal beamed white and cold as his hand closed over it.
"What a waste!" Raistlin hissed, twisting out of his chair. "Why die in such a meaningless gesture? For it will be meaningless, I assure you, my dear nephew. I will do all I planned. The world will be mine! You will be dead-and who will know or care?"
"You will," said Palin in a low voice.
Turning his back upon his uncle, Palin walked with firm, steady steps over to stand before the Portal. The shadow was deeper and darker, making the wall within the Abyss stand out by hideous contrast. Palin could feel the evil now, feel it seeping through the Portal like water flowing into a wrecked ship. He thought of the Dark Queen, able to enter the world at last. Once more, the flames of war would sweep across the land as the forces of good rose to stop her. He saw his father and mother die by his uncle's hand, his brothers fall victim to their uncle's magical charm. He saw them dressed in dragonscale armor, riding evil dragons into battle, leading troops of hideous beings spawned of darkness.
No! With the help of the gods, he would stop this if he could. But, raising the staff, Palin realized helplessly that he hadn't the vaguest idea how to close the Portal. He could sense the power in the staff, but he could not control it. Raistlin was right-what a stupid, meaningless gesture.
Behind him, Palin heard his uncle laugh. It wasn't mocking laughter this time, however. It was bemused, almost angry.
"This is senseless, Palin! Stop! Don't make me do this!"
Drawing a deep breath, Palin tried to concentrate his energy and his thoughts upon the staff. "Close the Portal," he whispered, forcing himself to think about nothing else, though his body quivered with fear. It was not a fear of dying, he could tell himself that with quiet pride. He loved life, never so much as now, he realized. But he could leave it without regret, though the thought of the grief that his death would cause those who loved him filled him with sorrow. His mother and father would know what he had done, however. They would understand. No matter what his uncle said.