Dragons of Autumn Twilight

"Return this man to Huma's breastBeyond the wild, impartial skies;Grant to him a warrior's restAnd set the last spark of his eyesFree from the smothering clouds of wars,Upon the torches of the stars.Let the last surge of his breath

Take refuge in the cradling airAbove the dreams of ravens, whereOnly the hawk remembers death.Then let his shade to Huma rise,Beyond the wild, impartial skies."

The knight's voice sank.

Tanis felt the peace of the gods wash over him like cool, cleansing water, easing his grief and submerging the horror. Caramon, beside him, wept silently. As they watched, moon-light flashed on the sword blade.

Then a clear voice spoke. "Stop. Bring him to me."

Both Tanis and Caramon sprang up to stand in front of the man's tortured body, knowing that Goldmoon must be spared this hideous sight. Sturm, lost in tradition, came back to reality with a start and reversed his killing stroke. Goldmoon stood, a tall, slender shadow silhouetted against the golden, moonlit doors of the temple. Tanis started to speak, but he felt suddenly the cold hand of the mage grip his arm. Shivering, he jerked away from Raistlin's touch.

"Do as she says," the mage hissed. "Carry him to her."

Tanis's face contorted with fury at the sight of Raistlin's expressionless face, uncaring eyes.

"Take him to her," Raistlin said coldly. "It is not for us to choose death for this man. That is for the gods."

16

A bitter choice. The greatest gift

Tanis stared at Raistlin. Not the quiver of an eyelid betrayed his feelings-if the mage had any feelings. Their eyes met and, as always, Tanis felt that the mage saw more than was visible to him. Suddenly Tanis hated Raistlin, hated him with a passion that shocked the half-elf, hated him for not feeling this pain, hated him and envied him at the same time.

"We must do something!" Sturm said harshly. "He's not dead and the dragon may return!"

"Very well," Tanis said, his voice catching in his throat. Wrap him in a blanket… But give me a moment alone with Goldmoon."

The half-elf walked slowly across the courtyard. His footsteps echoed in the stillness of the night as he climbed marble steps to a wide porch where Goldmoon stood in front of the shining golden doors. Glancing behind him, Tanis could see his friends wrapping blankets from their packs around tree limbs to make a battlefield stretcher. The man's body was nothing more than a dark, shapeless mass in the moonlight.

"Bring him to me, Tanis," Goldmoon repeated as the half-elf came up to her. He took hold of her hand.

"Goldmoon," Tanis said, "Riverwind is horribly injured. He is dying. There is nothing you can do-not even the staff-"

"Hush, Tanis," Goldmoon said gently.

The half-elf fell silent, seeing her clearly for the first time. In astonishment, he realized that the Plainswoman was tranquil, calm, uplifted. Her face in the moonlight was the face of the sailor who has fought the stormy seas in his fragile boat and drifted at last into peaceful waters.

"Come inside the temple, my friend," Goldmoon said, her beautiful eyes looking intently into Tanis'. "Come inside and bring Riverwind to me."

Goldmoon had not heard the approach of the dragon, had not seen its attack on Riverwind. When they entered the broken courtyard of Xak Tsaroth, Goldmoon had felt a strange and powerful force drawing her into the temple. She walked across the rubble and up the stairs, oblivious to everything but the golden doors shimmering in the silver-red moonlight. She approached them and stood before them for a moment. Then she became aware of the commotion behind her and heard Riverwind calling her name. "Goldmoon…" She paused, unwilling to leave Riverwind and her friends, knowing a terrible evil was rising from the well.

"Come inside, child," a gentle voice called to her.

Goldmoon lifted her head and stared at the doors. Tears came to her eyes. The voice was her mother's. Tearsong, priestess of Que-shu, had died long ago, when Goldmoon was very young.

"Tearsong?" Goldmoon choked. "Mother-"

"The years have been many and sad for you, my daughter"-her mother's voice was not heard so much as felt in her heart-"and I fear your burden will not soon ease. Indeed, if you continue on you will leave this darkness only to enter a deeper darkness. Truth will light your way, my daughter, though you may find its light shines dimly in the vast and terrible night ahead. Still, without the truth, all will perish and be lost. Come here inside the temple with me, daughter. You will find what you seek."