Dragons Of Winter Night Part 9

"You are worried about your friends," she said. "Do not be. They escaped the city and are safe. Though the kender was close to death for a time, he survived, and now they travel to Ice Wall in search of a dragon orb."

"How do you know this?" Tanis gasped.

"I have told you all I can." Alhana shook her head.

"Alhana! How do you know?" Tanis asked sternly.

Her pale cheeks stained with pink, Alhana murmured, "I-I gave the knight a Starjewel. He does not know its power, of course, nor how to use it. I don't know why I gave it to him, even, except-"

"Except what?" Tanis asked, amazed beyond belief.

"He was so gallant, so brave. He risked his life to help me, and he didn't even know who I was. He helped me because I was in trouble. And-" Her eyes glimmered. "And he wept, when the dragons killed the people. I've never seen an adult weep before. Even when the dragons came and drove us from our home, we did not weep. I think, perhaps, we've forgotten how."

Then, as if realizing she had said too much, she hastily pulled aside the blanket and entered the cave.

"In the name of the G.o.ds!" Tanis breathed. A Starjewel! What a rare and priceless gift! A gift exchanged by elven lovers forced to part, the jewel creates a bond between souls. Thus linked, they share the innermost emotions of the loved one and can grant strength to each other in times of need. But never before in Tanis's long life, had the half-elf heard of a Starjewel being given to a human. What would it do to a human? What kind of effect would it have? And Alhana-she could never love a human, never return love. This must be some sort of blind infatuation. She had been frightened, alone. No, this could only end in sorrow, unless something changed drastically among the elves or within Alhana herself.

Even as Tanis's heart expanded with relief to know Laurana and the others were safe, it contracted with fear and grief for Sturm.

9.

Silvanesti. Entering the dream.

The third day, they continued their journey, flying into the sunrise. They had lost the dragons, apparently, although Tika, keeping watch behind, thought she could see black dots upon the horizon. And that afternoon, as the sun was sinking behind them, they neared the river known as Thon-Thalas-Lord's River-which divided the outside world from Silvanesti.

All of his life, Tanis had heard of the wonder and beauty of the ancient Elven Home, though the elves of Qualinesti spoke of it without regret. They did not miss the lost wonders of Silvanesti, for the wonders themselves became a symbol of the differences that had developed between the elven kin.

The elves in Qualinesti lived in harmony with nature, developing and enhancing its beauty. They built their homes among the aspens, magically gilding the trunks with silver and gold. They built their dwellings of shimmering rose quartz, and invited nature to come dwell with them.

The Silvanesti, however, loved uniqueness and diversity in all objects. Not seeing this uniqueness existing naturally, they reshaped nature to conform to their ideal. They had patience and they had time, for what were centuries to elves whose life spans measured in the hundreds of years? And so they reformed entire forests, pruning and digging, forcing the trees and flowers into fantastic gardens of incredible beauty.

They did not 'build' dwellings, but carved and molded the marble rock that existed naturally in their land into such strange and wondrous shapes that-in the years before the races were estranged-dwarven craftsmen traveled thousands of miles to view them, and then could do nothing but weep at the rare beauty. And, it was said, a human who wandered into the gardens of Silvanesti could not leave, but stayed forever, enraptured, caught in a beautiful dream.

All this was known to Tanis only through legend, of course, for none of the Qualinesti had set foot in their ancient home since the Kinslayer wars. No human, it was believed, had been allowed in Silvanesti since a hundred years before that.

"What about the stories," Tanis asked Alhana as they flew above the aspens on the backs of the griffons, "the stories of humans trapped by the beauty of Silvanesti, unable to leave? Do my friends dare go to this land?"

Alhana glanced back at him.

"I knew humans were weak," she said coldly, "but I did not think they were that that weak. It is true humans do not come to Silvanesti, but that is because we keep them out. We certainly wouldn't want to keep any in. If I thought there was danger of that, I would not allow you into my homeland." weak. It is true humans do not come to Silvanesti, but that is because we keep them out. We certainly wouldn't want to keep any in. If I thought there was danger of that, I would not allow you into my homeland."

"Not even Sturm?" he couldn't help asking wryly, nettled by her stinging tone.

But he was not prepared for the answer. Alhana twisted to face him, whipping around so fast her long black hair flailed his skin. Her face was so pale with anger, it seemed translucent and he could see the veins pulse beneath her skin. Her dark eyes seemed to swallow him in their black depths.

"Never speak of that to me!" she said through clenched teeth and white lips. "Never speak of him!"

"But last night-" Tanis faltered, astonished, putting his hand to his burning cheek.

"Last night never happened," Alhana said. "I was weak, tired, frightened. As I was when...when I met Sturm, the knight. I regret speaking of him to you. I regret telling you of the Starjewel."

"Do you regret giving it to him?" Tanis asked.

"I regret the day I set foot in Tarsis," Alhana said in a low, pa.s.sionate voice. "I wish I had never gone there! Never!" She turned away abruptly, leaving Tanis to dark thoughts.

The companions had just reached the river, within sight of the tall Tower of the Stars, shining like a strand of pearls twisting into the sun, when the griffons suddenly halted their flight. Tanis, glancing ahead, could see no sign of danger. But their griffons continued to descend rapidly.

Indeed, it seemed hard to believe that Silvanesti had been under attack. There were no thin columns of campfire smoke rising into the air, as there would be if the draconians occupied the country. The land was not blackened and ruined. He could see, below him, the green of the aspens gleaming in the sunlight. Here and there, the marble buildings dotted the forest with their white splendor.

"No!" Alhana spoke to the griffons in elven. "I command you! Keep going! I must reach the Tower!"

But the griffons circled lower and lower, ignoring her.

"What is it?" Tanis asked. "Why are we stopping? We're in sight of the Tower. What's the matter?" He looked all around. "I see nothing to be concerned over."

"They refuse to go on," Alhana said, her face drawn with worry. "They won't tell me why, only that we must travel on our own from here. I don't understand this."

Tanis didn't like it. Griffons were known as fierce, independent creatures, but once their loyalty was gained, they served their masters with undying devotion. The elven royalty of Silvanesti have always tamed griffons for their use. Though smaller than dragons, the griffons' lightning speed, sharp talons, tearing beak, and lion-clawed hind feet made them enemies to be respected. There was little they feared on Krynn, so Tanis had heard. These griffons he remembered, had flown into Tarsis through swarms of dragons without apparent fear.

Yet now the griffons were obviously afraid. They landed on the banks of the river, refusing all of Alhana's angry, imperious commands to fly farther. Instead, they moodily preened themselves and steadfastly refused to obey.

Finally there was nothing for the companions to do but climb off the griffons' backs and unload their supplies. Then the bird-lion creatures, with fierce, apologetic dignity, spread their wings and soared away.

"Well, that is that," said Alhana sharply, ignoring the angry glances she felt cast at her. "We shall simply have to walk, that's all. The way is not far."

The companions stood stranded upon the riverbank, staring across the sparkling water into the forest beyond. None of them spoke. All of them were tense, alert, searching for trouble. But all they saw were the aspen trees glistening in the last, lingering rays of sunset. The river murmured as it lapped on the sh.o.r.e. Though the aspens were green still, the silence of winter blanketed the land.

"I thought you said your people fled because they were under siege?" Tanis said to Alhana finally.

"If this land is under control of dragons, I'm a gully dwarf!" Caramon snorted.

"We were!" Alhana answered, her eyes scanning the sunlit forest. "Dragons filled the skies, as in Tarsis! The dragonmen entered our beloved woods, burning, destroying-" Her voice died.

Caramon leaned near Riverwind and muttered, "Wild goose chase!"

The Plainsman scowled. "If it's nothing more than that, we'll be fortunate," he said, his eyes on the elfmaid. "Why did she bring us here? Perhaps it's a trap."

Caramon considered this a moment, then glanced uneasily at his brother, who had not spoken or moved or taken his strange eyes from the forest since the griffons left. The big warrior loosened his sword in its scabbard and moved a step nearer Tika. Almost accidentally, it seemed, their two hands clasped. Tika cast a fearful look at Raistlin but held onto Caramon tightly.

The mage just stared fixedly into the wilderness.

"Tanis!" Alhana said suddenly, forgetting herself in her joy and putting her hand on his arm. "Maybe it worked! Maybe my father defeated them, and we can come home! Oh, Tanis-" She trembled with excitement. "We've got to cross the river and find out! Come! The ferry landing's down around the bend-"

"Alhana, wait!" Tanis called, but she was already running along the smooth, gra.s.sy bank, her long full skirts fluttering around her ankles. "Alhana! d.a.m.n it. Caramon and Riverwind, go after her. Goldmoon, try to talk some sense into her."

Riverwind and Caramon exchanged uneasy glances, but they did as Tanis ordered, running along the riverbank after Alhana. Goldmoon and Tika followed more slowly.

"Who knows what's in these woods?" Tanis muttered. "Raistlin-"

The mage did not seem to hear. Tanis moved closer. "Raistlin?" he repeated, seeing the mage's abstracted stare.

Raistlin stared at him blankly, as if waking from a dream. Then the mage became aware of someone speaking to him. He lowered his eyes.

"What is it, Raistlin?" Tanis asked. "What do you sense?"

"Nothing, Tanis," the mage replied.

Tanis blinked. "Nothing?" he repeated.

"It is like an impenetrable fog, a blank wall," Raistlin whispered. "I see nothing, sense nothing."

Tanis stared at him intently, and suddenly he knew Raistlin was lying. But why? The mage returned the half-elf's gaze with equanimity, even a small, twisted smile on his thin lips, as if he knew Tanis didn't believe him but really didn't care.

"Raistlin," Tanis said softly, "suppose Lorac, the elfking, tried to use the dragon orb-what would happen?"

The mage lifted his eyes to stare into the forest. "Do you think that is possible?" he asked.

"Yes," Tanis said, "from what little Alhana told me, during the Tests in the Tower of High Sorcery at Istar, a dragon orb spoke to Lorac, asking him to rescue it from the impending disaster."

"And he obeyed it?" Raistlin asked, his voice as soft as the murmuring water of the ancient river.

"Yes. He brought it to Silvanesti."

"So this is the dragon orb of Istar," Raistlin whispered. His eyes narrowed, and then he sighed, a sigh of longing. "I know nothing about the dragon orbs," he remarked, coolly, "except what I told you. But I know this, Half-Elf-none of us will come out of Silvanesti unscathed, if we come out at all."

"What do you mean? What danger is there?"

"What does it matter what danger I see?" Raistlin asked, folding his hands in the sleeves of his red robes. "We must enter Silvanesti. You know it as well as I. Or will you forego the chance to find a dragon orb?"

"But if you see danger, tell us! We could at least enter prepared-" Tanis began angrily.

"Then prepare," Raistlin whispered softly, and he turned away and began to walk slowly along the sandy beach after his brother.

The companions crossed the river just as the last rays of the sun flickered among the leaves of the aspens on the opposite bank. And then the fabled forest of Silvanesti was gradually swamped by darkness. The shadows of night flowed among the feet of the trees like the dark water flowing beneath the keel of the ferry boat.

Their journey was slow. The ferry-an ornately carved, flat-bottomed boat connected to both sh.o.r.es by an elaborate system of ropes and pulleys, seemed at first to be in good condition. But once they set foot on board and began to cross the ancient river, they discovered that the ropes were rotting. The boat began to decay before their eyes. The river itself seemed to change. Reddish-brown water seeped through the hull, tainted with the faint smell of blood.

They had just stepped out of the boat on the opposite bank and were unloading their supplies, when the frayed ropes sagged and gave way.

The river swept the ferry boat downstream in an instant. Twilight vanished at the same moment, and night swallowed them. Although the sky was clear, without a cloud to mar its dark surface, there were no stars visible. Neither the red nor the silver moon rose. The only light came from the river, which seemed to gleam with an unwholesome brilliance, like a ghoul.

"Raistlin, your staff," Tanis said. His voice echoed too loudly through the silent forest. Even Caramon cringed.

"Shirak." Raistlin spoke the word of command and the crystal globe clutched in the disembodied dragon's claw flared into light. But it was a cold, pale light. The only thing it seemed to illuminate were the mage's strange, hourgla.s.s eyes. Raistlin spoke the word of command and the crystal globe clutched in the disembodied dragon's claw flared into light. But it was a cold, pale light. The only thing it seemed to illuminate were the mage's strange, hourgla.s.s eyes.

"We must enter the woods," Raistlin said in a shaking voice. Turning, he stumbled toward the dark wilderness.

No one else spoke or moved. They stood on the bank, fear overtaking them. There was no reason for it, and it was all the more frightening because it was illogical. Fear crept up on them from the ground. Fear flowed through their limbs, turning the bowels to water, sapping the strength of heart and muscle, eating into the brain.

Fear of what? There was nothing, nothing there! Nothing to be afraid of, yet all of them were more terrified of this nothing than they had been of anything before in their lives.

"Raistlin's right. We've-got to-get into the woods-find shelter..." Tanis spoke with an effort, his teeth chattering. "F-follow Raistlin."

Shaking, he staggered forward, not knowing if anyone followed, not caring. Behind him, he could hear Tika whimper and Goldmoon trying to pray through lips that would not form words. He heard Caramon shout for his brother to stop and Riverwind cry out in terror, but it didn't matter. He had to run, get away from here! His only guidance was the light of Raistlin's staff.

Desperately, he stumbled after the mage into the woods. But when Tanis reached the trees, he found his strength was gone. He was too scared to move. Trembling, he sank down on his knees, then pitched forward, his hands clutching at the ground.

"Raistlin!" His throat was torn by a ragged scream.

But the mage could not help. The last thing Tanis saw was the light from Raistlin's staff falling slowly to the ground, slowly, and more slowly, released by the young mage's limp, seemingly lifeless hand.

The trees. The beautiful trees of Silvanesti. Trees fashioned and coaxed through centuries into groves of wonder and enchantment. All around Tanis were the trees. But these trees now turned upon their masters, becoming living groves of horror. A noxious green light filtered through the shivering leaves.

Tanis stared about in horror. Many strange and terrible sights he had seen in his life, but nothing like this. This, he thought, might drive him insane. He turned this way and that, frantically, but there was no escape. All around were the trees-the trees of Silvanesti. Hideously changed.

The soul of every tree around him appeared trapped in torment, imprisoned within the trunk. The twisted branches of the tree were the limbs of its spirit, contorted in agony. The grasping roots clawed the ground in hopeless attempts to flee. The sap of the living trees flowed from huge gashes in the trunk. The rustling of its leaves were cries of pain and terror. The trees of Silvanesti wept blood.

Tanis had no idea where he was or how long he had been here. He remembered he had begun walking toward the Tower of the Stars that he could see rising above the branches of the aspens. He had walked and walked, and nothing had stopped him. Then he'd heard the kender shriek in terror, like the scream of some small animal being tortured. Turning, he saw Ta.s.slehoff pointing at the trees. Tanis, staring horrified at the trees, only eventually comprehended that Ta.s.slehoff wasn't supposed to be here. And there was Sturm, ashen with fear, and Laurana, weeping in despair, and Flint, his eyes wide and staring.

Tanis embraced Laurana, and his arms encompa.s.sed flesh and blood, but still he knew she was not there was not there-even as he held her, and the knowledge was terrifying.

Then, as he stood there in the grove that was like a prison of the d.a.m.ned, the horror increased. Animals bounded out from among the tormented trees and fell upon the companions.

Tanis drew his sword to strike back, but the weapon shook in his trembling hand, and he was forced to avert his eyes for the living animals had themselves been twisted and misshapen into hideous aspects of undying death.

Riding among the misshapen beasts were legions of elven warriors, their skull-like features hideous to behold. No eyes glittered in the hollow sockets of their faces, no flesh covered the delicate bones of their hands. They rode among the companions with brightly burning swords that drew living blood. But when any weapon struck them, they disappeared into nothing.

The wounds they inflicted, however, were real. Caramon, battling a wolf with snakes growing out of its body, looked up to see one of the elven warriors bearing down on him, a shining spear in his fleshless hand. He screamed to his brother for help.

Raistlin spoke, "Ast kiranann kair Soth-aran/Suh kali Jalaran." A ball of flame flashed from the mage's hands to burst directly upon the elf-without effect. Its spear, driven by incredible force, pierced Caramon's armor, entering his body, nailing him to the tree behind. A ball of flame flashed from the mage's hands to burst directly upon the elf-without effect. Its spear, driven by incredible force, pierced Caramon's armor, entering his body, nailing him to the tree behind.

The elven warrior yanked his weapon free from the big man's shoulder. Caramon slumped to the ground, his life's blood mingling with the tree's blood. Raistlin, with a fury that surprised him, drew the silver dagger from the leather thong he wore hidden on his arm and flung it at the elf. The blade p.r.i.c.ked its undead spirit and the elven warrior, horse and all, vanished into air. Yet Caramon lay upon the ground, his arm hanging from his body by only a thin strip of flesh.

Goldmoon knelt to heal him, but she stumbled over her prayers, her faith failing her amid the horror.

"Help me, Mishakal," Goldmoon prayed. "Help me to help my friend."

The dreadful wound closed. Though blood still seeped from it, trickling down Caramon's arm, death loosed its grip on the warrior. Raistlin knelt beside his brother and started to speak to him. Then suddenly the mage fell silent. He stared past Caramon into the trees, his strange eyes widening with disbelief.

"You!" Raistlin whispered. Raistlin whispered.

"Who is it?" Caramon asked weakly, hearing a thrill of horror and fear in Raistlin's voice. The big man peered into the green light but could see nothing. "Who do you mean?"