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Crepuscule	By : Skullbearer Category: A through F > Dragonlance Views: 2832 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the book(s) that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
- 19
Crepuscule
Chapter seventeen - Of Silence
But through it all I still get lost without you
Hard to find a new soul,
The silence takes it's toll.
- Lost Prophets, Sway
The storm clouds from the north had almost reached Qualinesti by morning, and Raistlin hardly needed the whispers to know that they could not afford to waste time here. Dalamar had clearly come to the same conclusion; the Dark elf was shooting looks at the strange clouds as they packed their meagre belongings.
Absently, the human wizard checked his pouch of spell components and had an unpleasant shock in finding it empty. By the look on his lover’s face, the elf had also run out. The Red Robe sighed, that was all they needed. Still, they would have enough time on the road to find the components.
The elves had offered them all supplies, but unfortunately, they were either unable or unwilling to give them the components needed, so other than a few days’ worth of quith-pa, the two mages had refused. They had what they needed and Raistlin for one hardly needed any extra weight.
The sun was just rising, its light thin and almost insubstantial behind the clouds, when Gilthanas led them out of Qualinesti.
Both mages had been pleasantly amused to see that Rashas had not been one of those who came to see them off; probably, the lordling was still locked inside his house, brooding over the humiliation.
Raistlin carefully avoided looking at Dalamar; it was hard enough to keep a straight face as it was.
They started off, heading south towards the old fortress of Pax Tharkas. The going was easy; a party of warriors had gone on ahead and were clearing the thick undergrowth as they went.
The red-robed wizard looked over at the group. He and his dark lover had lagged back, letting the others go up ahead. Seeing that everyone was occupied and deciding that their absence would not be missed, the younger mage nodded towards the undergrowth.
Dalamar smiled. "Good idea."
The spell components were not hard to find. After five years wandering, they had become adept at finding what they needed for their spells. Some webbing from a tattered spider web, scraps of fur torn off in briars, and few leaves for Raistlin's tea. It was relievingly easy to find what they needed on the outskirts of the elven wood, and before long, the two of them were heading back to the trail.
It seemed to be too much, however, to hope for their absence to go unnoticed. The Red Robe had hoped that no one would realise they had left the path -after the argument they had overheard, it would hardly be a good idea to advertise-, but clearly they had.
"Where are those two?" Gilthanas' voice was harsh.
"Maybe something's happened..." That was Caramon, faithful as always.
"Nonsense! What could have happened to them? There is no enemy for miles. They must have gone off somewhere, for some purpose." Gilthanas' voice was dark, making it blatantly obvious what he was suggesting.
"What are you saying?"
Sturm spoke up, ready to clarify for Raistlin's thick-skulled brother, "Maybe they left to-"
"-To collect what we need for the making of our magic, knight," the younger mage finished, stepping out of the brush as he did so. "And to replenish the herbs I need to heal my cough."
"Raist!" Caramon stepped forward, making as if to hug his brother. When the younger Majere took two steps back and raised his staff as if for protection, Caramon remembered himself and stopped. "You shouldn't go off by yourself, it's dangerous."
Raistlin lifted an eyebrow. "He wasn't by himself," Dalamar put in lazily.
"Besides," the human wizard finished, "my spell components are secret."
Dalamar stepped around the little group and walked over to rejoin Fizban in the line. The Red Robe made to do the same, but stopped when his brother's hand closed on his arm.
"You went with /him/." Caramon looked hurt, jerking his head towards the Dark elf.
"Yes, I did." Raistlin pried his brother's hand off. "And /never/ touch me again."
Turning his back on his twin, he followed Dalamar.
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The path became steeper as they went, heading down to join a large stream as they headed further south.
It was when they broke for lunch that Fizban confided that he had seen someone following them. Raistlin hadn't seen anyone, and Dalamar shook his head to show that he hadn't noticed anything either, but they both knew better than to dismiss the old magician’s words out of hand, as Gilthanas did.
The sun was starting to slant down now, a warning of the shortening of the days, and after eating, they packed up and set off again, upon Gilthanas' insistence that they had to be at the Sla-Mori by sundown.
It was not much further on they came to the clearing. Tanis hissed a warning and they all ducked back, peering out at what had caught the Half-elf's attention.
A vicious battle had clearly been recently fought in the clearing, and its bloody remnants still littered the area. Men and hobgoblins were lying broken all over the ground.
Despite the devastation, there seemed to be no threat, and the group moved out one by one from the tree line.
"No enemy for miles!" Sturm snorted, scowling at Gilthanas.
It was Tanis who caught sight of the survivor, a human warrior. He was covered in blood, but didn't appear badly hurt. The mages watched from a distance as the others gathered round to examine the man. The Solamnic questioned him as to his part in the recent battle, the man swearing he had been fighting the hobgoblins. He appeared to know the Qualinesti prince, but before anything else could be said, a dozen draconians appeared at the edge of the clearing. They didn't seem to recognise the group, but simply ordered them to come with them for questioning.
Raistlin and Dalamar exchanged glances. These were not the strange, wingless breed that had overcome them on the road to Xak Tsaroth, but rather the smaller fighting race.
This was a fight they could win.
"We do not take orders from Lord Verminaard!" Tanis declared, drawing his blade.
"You will, soon enough," the draconian sneered, then motioned its warriors to attack.
Fizban, standing beside them, pulled out a lump of bat guano and started mumbling a spell. The Dark elf groaned and the two younger wizards held the older one back. "Not fireball! You'll incinerate everyone out there!"
"Oh, really?" The old man's face was a mask of innocence that Raistlin bought not at all. "Wait -I'll think of something else."
The Red Robe sighed. As powerful as the mouse-robed magician was, he sincerely doubted the man would use those powers for anything helpful. The two dragged Fizban down and told him to stay put before entering the fray themselves.
At first, they simply circled the battle, pulling away from any who might attack them, casting spells at any near them. Finally, three draconians, who had had enough of being blasted with spells, drew away from the battle and charged at them.
Which was exactly what Raistlin and Dalamar wanted. The younger mage whispered /"Shirak,"/ and thrust the lit staff into the draconians faces, dazzling them. Then it was simple work to stand back and cast.
The Red Robe smiled, delighting in the lightning crackle of the magic as it flowed through him, arcing from his fingertips to hammer down the draconians. It was the most wonderful ecstasy, powerful as anything he and Dalamar had shared.
Beside him, the Dark elf was laughing as one of their foes dropped to the ground, the stone statue cracking into pieces as it fell.
It took a few moments to realise that the battle was over, their attackers lying on the floor in pieces. No one seemed to have been hurt, although Tika had clearly gone berserk and nearly broken her shield.
Raistlin lifted one hand, staring as the residual magic crackled around his fingertips. He turned and looked at Dalamar, who smiled back wolfishly before kissing him violently. It was often like this, the blur of magic and adrenaline giving way to desire. It wouldn't be long before the hollow exhaustion set in, but the red-robed wizard was quite willing to make the best of what time they had, kissing back fervently before drawing away, breathing heavily.
This was not the time for this, and Raistlin tore his eyes away from his lover, looking back over the clearing, now the scene of two battles.
Apparently he wasn't the only one experiencing the after-effects of battle-lust. Caramon looked about ready to sweep Tika off her feet and into the trees. The younger Majere was about to roll his eyes and leave them to it when the big man's eyes fell on him. The warrior blinked, as if coming to his senses, and stepped back from the young woman.
The bone numbing tiredness came across them then, and Raistlin sighed, lowering the staff of Magius as if he could no longer hold its weight. His brother stepped forward to help him, but the young mage waved him off. The last thing he needed was his twin.
The Red Robe sighed, and together he and Dalamar walked over to where Sturm, Tanis, and Gilthanas were interrogating the newcomer -Eben, the elf named him.
"No, I'm fine, I just felt a little faint when I saw those creatures, that's all. You really have a cleric among you? That's wonderful, but don't waste her healing powers on me. Just a scratch. It's more their blood than mine. My party and I were tracking these draconians through the wood when we were attacked by at least forty hobgoblins."
Gilthanas' eyes were narrowed in suspicion. "And you alone lived to tell the tale?"
Raistlin looked at Dalamar. "What do you think?"
The Dark elf looked thoughtful. "I think he could be on either side, or, more likely, neither. You noticed that he didn't fight the draconians with us, it just be that he decided to hold back and pledge himself to whoever won." Dalamar shrugged. "Smart move."
The red-robed wizard looked at the bodies of the twelve draconians and nodded. Such an action was hardly cowardice. But, friend or foe, he heartily disagreed with the idea of taking the man with them. A good swordsman he may be, but the plan would be difficult enough without taking in strays.
There was no point in speaking up though, and Raistlin just shrugged and followed the others as they set off again.
As they went, Raistlin caught Eben looking straight at Dalamar, an inscrutable expression on his face.
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The sun was setting by the time they came into view of the huge fortress of Pax Tharkas. The two massive towers they could see competed with the mountains for mastery of the skyline, and the rest of the place must be bigger still. Raistlin had travelled extensively, Dalamar even more, but they were both still impressed with the size and grandeur of the fortress.
However, as awe-inspiring as the fortress was, what came marching through its gates was more horrifying than anything was. An army, endless ranks of draconians, goblins and hobgoblins, accompanied by human mercenaries, marched out onto the plains while the harsh horns of war brayed from the battlements.
The Red Robe spared these barely a glance, his attention drawn to the creature circling above like a terrible red hawk: A dragon, and even from where they stood, the wizard could see it was much, much larger than the one they had fought in Xak Tsaroth. Even at such a distance, the dragonfear sent shudders up Raistlin's spine.
"They march on Qualinesti," Gilthanas said in a broken whisper. "We must get inside and free the prisoners, then Verminaard will be forced to call his army back."
"You're going inside Pax Tharkas!" Eben exclaimed.
The Qualinesti prince closed his eyes. "Yes," he admitted.
"Whew! You people have guts, I tell you that. So -how do we get in there? Wait until the army leaves? There will probably be only a few guards at the front gate. We could handle them easily, couldn't we, big man?" Eben nudged Caramon, who grinned.
"That is not the plan," the elflord said coldly, pointing at a narrow vale leading into the mountains. "That is our way. We will cross under cover of darkness."
They were walking, still under the trees, when they caught sight of someone within the undergrowth. Dalamar was the first one to do it, and pointed it out to Raistlin. Fizban also saw it and told anyone who would listen.
It was true then, Raistlin thought grimly. They were being followed.
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It was very late when they crossed the plain and headed into the vale. The sun had set long ago, but the moons had not yet broken the crest of the mountains. None of them dared light torches, and the darkness made the going treacherous. Luckily, a stream cut across their path -not so luckily for Flint, who fell in and had to be fished out by Caramon- and helped guide them into the mountains.
They had only gone a short way, however, before Gilthanas left the group and disappeared into the forest, something that provoked all kind of suspicions, particularly from Eben, who recalled that the elflord had been acting suspiciously even when they had travelled together. Again, Raistlin noticed that the human was shooting strange glances at Dalamar whenever he thought the Dark elf wasn't looking.
The Qualinesti wasn't long gone, however, and came back with the tale that he had been scouting ahead and the way was clear.
"I say we go in by the front gate," the swordman replied.
"I agree," Caramon put in.
The Red Robe said nothing. He didn't trust either Eben or Gilthanas, but he was certainly sure that trying to assault the main gate -particularly in broad daylight as Sturm was suggesting- was nothing short of suicidal.
Dalamar snorted, "Go and bang on the door if you want Brightblade, I'm sure Verminaard will be very helpful and we would be rid of your company."
The knight wheeled around. "And I would be equally glad to be rid of yours, Dark elf. Of all those here, you are the one I trust least! Keep your lying tongue behind your teeth and I might not remove it." Turning, the Solamnic stomped along after Gilthanas and Tanis.
Raistlin watched them leave. "Dalamar-"
The Dark elf shook his head. "Don't. There may be a traitor among us, but Brightblade is the only one here who would actively have us dead."
"And now would not be the time to have such a confrontation!" the younger wizard hissed. "They-" He indicated the group "-are looking for a scapegoat they can brand traitor. The last thing we need is the knight declaring us the betrayers!"
The dark-robed elf sighed and shook his head in silent disagreement, but said no more as they walked over to where the prince had stopped.
The Qualinesti had removed a small gem from his pocket and set it into the rock face, then stepped back and started tracing symbols in the air, murmuring words that were familiar to the Red Robe.
Raistlin nodded. "A spell of opening."
Fizban watched. "I didn't know he was one of us."
Dalamar sneered, "No more than a dabbler."
Dabbler or not, the spell worked well and a huge block of stone swung aside, revealing a gaping black hole like a toothless crone's mouth.
The younger Majere shivered and pulled his cloak closer as a blast of chill, dank air passed over them. The feeling of dread coming from the tunnel was harder to dispel though.
"What's in there?" Caramon wanted to know.
"I do not know what is in there now, I have never entered," Gilthanas answered. "I know only of this place through the lore of my people."
Caramon snorted, "All right, what /used/ to be in there?"
"This was the burial place of Kith-Kanan."
Dalamar groaned and Raistlin looked at him sympathetically. Rhe Dark elf was no doubt growing to /really/ hate the dead, particularly the restless kind.
"More spooks," Flint grouched. "Send the mages in first, they can warn them that we're coming."
"Send the dwarf in first," the former Silvanesti answered. "And let him bore them to oblivion."
Tanis broke in before the argument could escalate and turned to the two mages. "All right, what do you two sense about this place."
"Evil. Great evil," Raistlin said.
"And great danger," Dalamar agreed.
"But also great goodness too," Fizban put it unexpectedly. "The elves are not truly forgotten within though evil things have come to rule in their stead."
The Dark elf snorted, clearly remembering the 'great goodness' of Darken Wood. "As I said," he hissed to his human lover, "great danger."
Behind them, Eben was listening intently, before again demanding that they go around to the front of the fortress. It was only Tanis' intervention that got them all inside the cave and settled in for the night.
Raistlin investigated the back of the cave. There was mostly dust and few footprints, and a crossroads further on. The atmosphere shrouding the right-hand path had him shuddering and woke the whispers again. Shrugging off the sensation and the soft warnings, he walked back to where the others were making camp. Tanis had left the stone door slightly open to lay a trap for whoever was following them.
The Red Robe looked around for Dalamar, and found the Dark elf talking -of all people- to Eben. When he saw Raistlin, the former Silvanesti gave a rather strained smile. "I think it might be best if you got ready to sleep, Raistlin. I may be up a while."
The human wizard felt momentarily thrown, and glared at the warrior suspiciously, remembering the odd looks the man had been throwing at Dalamar. "Why?"
The Dark elf's expression was unreadable. "You're tired, and I need to talk to Eben."
Raistlin cocked his head. What was going on? "Without me?"
The dark-robed mage reached up to rub his face. "Please. I'll join you later."
The human wizard hesitated, then walked away, sitting against the side of the cavern. He had no idea what could have possessed Dalamar to act this way; it was unlike them to keep secrets from each other.
Except for his own secret, Raistlin reminded himself, remembering the argument they had in the slave caravans. After such, how could he expect Dalamar to share everything?
He had a feeling that if he told Dalamar, that the Dark elf would explain what he was doing. It was the principle of the thing, the former Silvanesti keeping his secrets because Raistlin kept his. If the young wizard wanted answers, he would have to offer them first. However, why did it have to be him to make the first move? The thought flickered into his mind. Why shouldn't Dalamar offer his information first? If the dark-robed elf could demonstrate that he trusted Raistlin that far, then the latter would tell him the truth about his Test. Besides, it was hardly the right time, the thought reasoned. They were surrounded by people who would be hardly sympathetic or accepting upon hearing about Fistandantilus and the rest.
Decided, the Red Robe unpacked the bedroll they shared and spread it out on the most even patch of floor he could find.
Sleep came quickly, and Raistlin never realised that the thought that had warned him away from telling Dalamar had sounded so very much like the voice of his whispers.
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Dalamar had not joined Raistlin in the bedroll that night. Instead, the human mage found the former Silvanesti slumped against the wall next to him. It looked as though sleep had caught the Dark elf in mid thought. Whatever Eben had to tell him, it must have been disturbing.
Trying to shove the unwelcome thoughts out of his mind, the Red Robe sat up. He had slept in his robes again, which was just as well. He had forgotten just how cold it was when you slept alone.
"Dalamar?" The young mage reach over and shook the Dark elf's shoulder. The latter jerked awake and blinked around the room, disoriented.
"It must have been an interesting conversation," Raistlin remarked, not quite succeeding in keeping the bitter note out of his voice, "to have kept you up so late."
Dalamar sighed and rubbed his eyes. "It was." There was no mistaking the emotion and honesty in those words. "He and I... we had a lot to talk about."
"What about?" the young wizard probed.
The former Silvanesti shrugged. "He had never met a Dark elf before." He turned to go.
Raistlin reached to stop him. "What kind of answer is that?"
The dark-robed elf's eyes narrowed. "I'd have thought you would be all too familiar with what kind of answer it was," he answered coldly before getting up.
The Red Robe sighed. So he had been right, Dalamar would not tell him unless he got the answers he sought. It seemed more than a little high handed, he thought, for the Dark elf to demand trust when he himself not only showed none, but also admitted to being unable to trust at all!
Kicking off the blankets, Raistlin got up, gathering his cup and herbs before heading for the small fire Flint had made the night before.
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The tension was still between them when the group broke camp and made their way down the passage Raistlin had investigated last night. The chill in the air had nothing to do with the temperature, but the Red Robe pulled his cloak close anyway, trying to ignore the whispers that sprang up if he even looked at the right-hand path.
Finally and much to his relief, they decided to go left, down a dusty, broken tunnel. The going was harder now; bits of debris covered the ground, no doubt knocked loose during the Cataclysm. Twice Raistlin stumbled and once nearly fell, but Dalamar stopped him.
The young mage looked at the Dark elf. His lover’s hand was on his arm, skin warm against his own. Their eyes met, and the elven wizard let go. Neither spoke, but the silence was heavy with their words. Raistlin turned away first and walked on. Behind him, he heard Dalamar sigh, then follow.
Several hundred feet on, the left had wall had been rent apart, the debris partially blocking the passageway. The Red Robe stepped through the hole, his lit staff held before him, and held it up to light up the room. The Dark elf and the others clambered through after him.
The hall must once have been one of the finest in Ansalon, but was now so damaged that the tattered remnants of beauty seemed almost a mockery of what the place once stood for. Two rows of seven columns supported the roof, though some had been broken, and at the back, the ceiling had fallen in entirely. Beside this ruin stood a tarnished bronze double door.
Caramon suddenly cried out and Raistlin spun around staff pointed to find whatever was attacking them.
There were no attackers; rather, the sight of a skeleton had surprised Caramon. The remains sat on a massive throne, flanked by two statues. The robes and finery, though tarnished, showed that this had been a person of great importance, and the sword the bony hands rested on was one of the most ornate the human mage had ever seen.
Behind him, Dalamar took a step back. "Kith-Kanan!" he breathed.
Gilthanas had fallen to his knees and nodded. "We stand in the Hall of Ancients, his burial tomb. None had seen this sight since the elven clerics vanished in the Cataclysm."
Raistlin turned back. Tanis had joined Gilthanas on the floor, but Dalamar hadn't moved. The Dark elf was staring at the skeleton with a rather shaken expression. Then he shook his head and smiled thinly. "A lot of old bones," the red-robed wizard heard him mutter to himself.
The young mage's attention was drawn to Kith-Kanan's sword more than his remains, and he wasn't the only one. Tanis had warned Tasslehoff away from touching the beautiful blade. Raistlin walked forward, being careful not to touch the throne, the skeleton, or the statues. After the latest string of events, he wasn't taking any chances.
Luckily, he wouldn't need to touch the sword to cast the spell. /"Tsaran korilath ith hakon."/
Raistlin wished he had the foresight to memorise a spell of identification; the one he had was one he had hoped to use to find magical traps. It would tell if there was magic in the area, but not what it did.
Unsurprisingly, the sword started to glow; oddly enough, it was the only thing that did, although Raistlin wondered if he had imagined the thin red glow in the skull's eye sockets. "It is enchanted."
The kender came over for a closer look. "Good enchantment? Or bad?"
The Red Robe shrugged. "I have no way of knowing, but since it had lain undisturbed for so long, /I/ would certainly not venture to touch it!"
He stepped back from the throne, and he and Dalamar walked over to where the others were examining the walls. Gilthanas called them over, one of the bronze doors had a map on it, although, Raistlin though -remembering Xak Tsaroth-, exactly how useful it would be after so long was debatable. The map was faded, scratched from fallen masonry and encrusted with dirt so that it was hard to make head or tails of it.
He was so intent of the door that he jumped when the Dark elf touched his shoulder. "Listen."
The human wizard felt rather annoyed at the interruption. "What for?"
"Shh!"
A strange sound reached their ears, a soft scraping, shuffling sound. Suddenly a blast of foul smelling air came from the half-open door. Raistlin reeled and started coughing. "Shut the door!” he wheezed, stumbling back.
Caramon and Sturm made a run for the doors, but before they could reach them, they flew open.
The Red Robe had expected guards, draconians, perhaps even undead, but what actually came out was so malformed, twisted, and hideous that it was almost a relief when it withered and crumpled in his sight.
"A slug!" Tasslehoff exclaimed. "But look at the size of that thing! How do you suppose it got so big? I wonder what it eats-"
Flint lunged forward and hauled the kender out of the way of the stream of foul liquid the slug spat at him. The saliva struck the ground and the stones seemed almost to melt when touched by it. Raistlin was forcibly reminded of the black dragon of Xak Tsaroth.
He was just reaching for his spell components to cast when Dalamar caught hold of his shoulder and pulled him back away from the fight, hand's closing on the younger mage's wrists to prevent him from casting. "What are you doing?" he demanded, staring at the Dark elf.
The dark-robed wizard paused momentarily, letting go of him. Dalamar looked shaken and unsure, he seemed about to speak, then shook his head as if making his mind up about something. He nodded at his lover, then lifted his hands to start casting.
Raistlin sighed in relief. He had a shrewd suspicion about what had just happened, but at the moment, they had rather more pressing problems.
Dalamar's spell, that from the Sentinel Peaks, shot at the slug, neatly severing its eyestalks. The monster reared back, only to catch the Red Robe’s blast of flame in its rubbery mouth. The creature's skin boiled and bubbled under the heat, splitting to let fall more of the foul acidic liquid. The warriors waded in, Sturm's enchanted blade bit in, but Caramon's blows just bounced off the tough hide. Tanis lunged forwards, sword outstretched as the monster reared back, aiming at the creature's seared mouth.
"Tanthalas!"
Surprised, Tanis spun around. "Laurana!"
Raistlin looked round. The elfmaiden was standing at the other end of the hall, looking horrified. At the same time, he spotted one person who had not joined the attack: Eben was standing in a corner, well out of the way. The mage smiled to himself grimly. So, the human was not only taking no part in the fray, but he had no doubt suggested that Dalamar do the same.
At a shout from Flint, Tanis tore his eyes off Laurana and hefted his sword, but too late. The slug, blinded and maddened with pain, had reared up and spat a line of acid at him. The half-elf’s sword liquefied in his hands, the acid dripping down to scorch his flesh. Goldmoon ran over to heal him.
Seeing the monster rear up and no doubt sensing an opportunity, the Dark elf cast again, the bolt of magic punching through the slug's dripping maw and out through its back. Grievously wounded, the creature slithered back, to be hit in unison by Riverwind's arrows, Sturm's sword, and Raistlin's spell. Oozing clear liquid from its many wounds, the slug keeled over and struck the doors. They closed with a deafening bang as its weight struck them. The creature slid down them to rest on the ground, quite dead and completely blocking the doors with its stinking carcass and dripping acid.
The stench made the Red Robe choke and he opened the pouch he kept his herbs in, hoping that the scent would banish the tightness around his chest.
The silence after the din of the battle was deafening. Raistlin saw Eben emerge from behind one of the pillars and make to stand next to Dalamar, but the Dark elf stepped away from the human and walked to his lover’s side. The young mage caught the former Silvanesti’s eyes and gave a thin smile, taking the elf's hand in his own. Dalamar looked away, embarrassed.
Tanis had turned to Laurana. He was holding a new sword he had found somewhere and was furious with the elven girl.
"You are going right back!" Gilthanas shouted, looking, if anything, even angrier than Half-elven.
"I'm not going back," the elfmaid countered, all but pouting at her brother. "I'm coming with you and Tanthalas and..." She looked over nervously at Dalamar. "...And the rest."
"Laurana, this is madness, we're not going on an outing. This isn't a game. You saw what just happened, we were nearly killed!"
"I know Tanthalas," the elven princess sounded like a child denied some treat. "You told me there comes a time when you've got to risk your life for something you believe in. I'm the one who followed you."
Dalamar groaned. Clearly, the idea of having her along no more attractive to him than it was to Tanis. "We do not need an untrained girl tagging along."
Laurana flinched. "I have been trained -all elven women are, in memory of a time we fought beside our men to save our homeland."
"It's not serious training," Tanis argued, for once joining the Dark elf’s side of an argument.
"I followed you, didn't I?" the elven girl interrupted. "Skilfully?" She turned to Sturm.
"Yes," the knight admitted.
"That doesn't mean-"
Deciding that if allowed to continue, this debate could take all day, Raistlin stepped in, "We are losing time, and I for one do not want to spend any longer than I must in this dank and musty tunnel." All too true. Although the herbs had helped his cough, the cold was not making his breathing any easier. "The girl has made her decision. We can hardly spare anyone to go back with her."
The elven mage sighed, but nodded. "She can't go back by herself either, she knows far too much, and should she be captured, this Verminaard would have her tell everything."
The look Tanis turned on them was one of pure poison, but there was nothing he could say. Instead he looked at the elfmaiden. "You are one your own," he told her, with a coldness that rivalled Dalamar's own. "I can't hang around protecting you. Neither can Gilthanas. You have behaved like a spoiled brat. I told you once before -you better grow up. Now, if you don't, you're going to die and probably get the rest of us killed along with you!" The former Silvanesti looked at the half-elf, mildly impressed.
Raistlin leant on the Staff of Magius as the exhaustion of casting kicked in, and shook his head. Nice words, but he doubted Tanis would back them up. The half-elf would probably spend the rest of his time looking back over his shoulder to check the girl was all right. His suspicions were not helped when Laurana swore to make Tanis proud of her, and confessed her love. He snorted and Dalamar rolled his eyes. "Nuitari help us."
The Qualinesti princess shot the Dark elf a worried look, but Tanis ignored her. "It seems we must take the right-hand corridor after all, whether or not Raistlin's feelings about evil were correct." He buckled on his new sword, and for the first time, the Red Robe saw it fully.
The sword of Kith-Kanan.
"Where did you get that?" he whispered.
Half-elven turned around, looking back at the throne. "I was near the body of the elven king, looking for something to throw at the slug, when, suddenly, the sword was in my hand. It had been taken out of its sheath and-" Tanis' voice broke off as he reached the same conclusion the wizard had.
"Yes?"
"/He/ gave it to me. I remember his hand touched mine. He pulled from the sheath."

"Who?" Dalamar hissed.
"Kith-Kanan..." Tanis breathed, looking again at the throne. The skeleton's hands were indeed empty.
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It was when they had turned to leave the chamber, going back the way they came, that Dalamar turned to Raistlin. The tension of the last few hours had gone and the Dark elf looked, if anything, slightly ashamed. "About earlier..."
The younger wizard raised a hand. "Never mind."
"But he-"

Raistlin looked over at Eben, golden eyes boring into the man's back. "I know."

Skull Bearer.
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