Dragons of Autumn Twilight - By Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman Page 0,22

shot away from shore, accompanied by the howls of angry goblins. More arrows whizzed around the boat as Caramon, dripping wet, plopped down next to Tanis.

"Goblin target practice tonight," Caramon muttered, pulling the arrow from his mail shirt. "We show up beautifully against the water."

Tanis was fumbling for his dropped bow when he noticed Raistlin sitting up. "Take cover!" Tanis warned, and Caramon started to reach for his brother, but the mage, scowling at both of them, slipped his hand into a pouch on his belt. His delicate fingers drew out a handful of something as an arrow struck the seat next to him. Raistlin did not react. Tanis started to pull the mage down, then realized he was lost in the concentration necessary to a magic-user casting a spell. Disturbing him now might have drastic consequences, causing the mage to forget the spell or worse-to miscast the spell.

Tanis gritted his teeth and watched. Raistlin lifted his thin, frail hand and allowed the spell component he had taken from his pouch to fall slowly from between his fingers onto the deck of the boat. Sand, Tanis realized.

"Ast tasarak sinwalan krynawi," Raistlin murmured, and then moved his right hand slowly in an arc parallel to the shore.

Tanis looked back toward land. One by one, the goblins dropped their bows and toppled over, as though Raistlin were touching each in turn. The arrows ceased. Goblins farther away howled in rage and ran forward. But by that time, Sturm's powerful strokes had carried the boat out of range.

"Good work, little brother!" Caramon said heartily. Raistlin blinked and seemed to return to the world, then the mage sank forward. Caramon caught him and held him for a moment. Then Raistlin sat up and sucked in a deep breath, which caused him to cough.

"I'll be all right," he whispered, withdrawing from Caramon.

"What did you do to them?" asked Tanis as he searched for enemy arrows to drop them overboard; goblins occasionally poisoned the arrowtips.

"I put them to sleep," Raistlin hissed through teeth that clicked together with the cold. "And now I must rest." He sank back against the side of the boat.

Tanis looked at the mage. Raistlin had, indeed, gained in power and skill. I wish I could trust him, the half-elf thought.

The boat moved across the star-filled lake. The only sounds to be heard were the soft, rhythmic plashing of the oars in the water and Raistlin's dry, wracking cough. Tasslehoff uncorked the wineskin, which Flint had somehow retained on his wild dash, and tried to get the chilled, shivering dwarf to swallow a mouthful. But Flint, crouched at the bottom of the boat, could only shudder and stare out across the water.

Goldmoon sank deeper into her fur cape. She wore the soft doeskin breeches of her people with a fringed overskirt and belted tunic. Her boots were made of soft leather. Water had sloshed over the edge of the boat when Caramon had thrown Flint aboard. The water made the doeskin cling to her, and soon she was chilled and shivering.

"Take my cape," Riverwind said in their language, starting to remove his bearskin cloak.

"No." She shook her head. "You have been suffering from the fever. I never get sick, you know that. But"-she looked up at him and smiled-"you may put your arm around me, warrior. The heat from our bodies will warm us both."

"Is that a royal command. Chieftain's Daughter?" Riverwind whispered teasingly, drawing her close to him.

"It is," she said, leaning against his strong body with a sigh of contentment. She looked up into the starry heavens, then stiffened and caught her breath in alarm.

"What is it?" Riverwind asked, staring up.

The others in the boat, although they had not understood the exchange, heard Goldmoon's gasp and saw her eyes transfixed by something in the night sky.

Caramon poked his brother and said, "Raist, what is it? I don't see anything."

Raistlin sat up, cast back his hood, then coughed. When the spasm passed, he searched the night sky. Then he stiffened, and his eyes widened. Reaching out with his thin, bony hand, Raistlin clutched Tanis's arm, holding onto it tightly as the half-elf involuntarily tried to pull away from the mage's skeletal grip. "Tanis . . ." Raistlin wheezed, his breath nearly gone. "The constellations . . ."

"What?" Tanis was truly startled by the pallor of the mage's metallic gold skin and the feverish luster of his strange eyes. "What about the constellations?"

"Gone!" rasped Raistlin and lapsed into a fit of coughing. Caramon