Dragons of Spring Dawning

by Margaret Weis

  Kitiara pointed at Berem and loosed her hold upon the dragon. With a cruel shriek, Skie prepared to dive. But Kitiara’s moment of hesitation proved disastrous. Steadfastly ignoring her, Berem had steered the ship deeper and deeper into the heart of the storm. The wind howled, snapping the rigging. Waves crashed over the bows. The rain slashed down like knives, and hailstones began to pile up on the deck, coating it with ice.

  Suddenly the dragon was in trouble. A gust of wind hit him, then another. Skie’s wings beat frantically as gust after gust pummeled him. The hail drummed upon his head and threatened to tear through the leathery wings. Only the supreme will of his master kept Skie from fleeing this perilous storm and flying to the safety of calmer skies.

  Tanis saw Kitiara gesture furiously toward Berem. He saw Skie make a valiant effort to fly closer to the helmsman.

  Then a gust of wind hit the ship. A wave broke over them. Water cascaded around them, foaming white, knocking men off their feet and sending them skidding across the deck. The ship listed. Everyone grabbed what they could—ropes, netting, anything—to keep from being washed overboard.

  Berem fought the wheel, which was like a living thing, leaping in his hands. Sails split in two, men disappeared into the Blood Sea with terrifying screams. Then, slowly, the ship righted itself again, the wood creaking with the strain. Tanis looked up quickly.

  The dragon—and Kitiara—were gone.

  Freed from the dragonfear, Maquesta sprang into action, determined once more to save her dying ship. Shouting orders, she ran forward and stumbled into Tika.

  “Get below, you lubbers!” Maquesta shouted furiously to Tanis above the storm wind. “Take your friends and get below! You’re in our way! Use my cabin.”

  Numbly, Tanis nodded. Acting by instinct, feeling as if he were in a senseless dream filled with howling darkness, he led everyone below.

  The haunted look in Caramon’s eyes pierced his heart as the big man staggered past him, carrying his brother. Raistlin’s golden eyes swept over him like flame, burning his soul. Then they were past him, stumbling with the others into the small cabin that shivered and rocked, tossing them about like rag dolls.

  Tanis waited until everyone was safely inside the tiny cabin, then he slumped against the wooden door, unable to turn around, unable to face them. He had seen the haunted look in Caramon’s eyes as the big man staggered past, he had seen the exultant gleam in Raistlin’s eyes. He heard Goldmoon weeping quietly and he wished he might die on this spot before he had to face her.

  But that was not to be. Slowly he turned around. Riverwind stood next to Goldmoon, his face dark and brooding as he braced himself between ceiling and deck. Tika bit her lip, tears sliding down her cheeks. Tanis stayed by the door, his back against it, staring at his friends mutely. For long moments, no one said a word. All that could be heard was the storm, the waves crashing onto the deck. Water trickled down on them. They were wet and cold and shaking with fear and sorrow and shock.

  “I—I’m sorry,” Tanis began, licking his salt-coated lips. His throat hurt, he could barely speak. “I—I wanted to tell you—”

  “So that’s where you were these four days,” Caramon said in a soft, low voice. “With our sister. Our sister, the Dragon Highlord!”

  Tanis hung his head. The ship listed beneath his feet, sending him staggering into Maquesta’s desk, which was bolted to the floor. He caught himself and slowly pushed himself back to face them. The half-elf had endured much pain in his life, pain of prejudice, pain of loss, pain of knives, arrows, swords. But he did not think he could endure this pain. The look of betrayal in their eyes ran straight through his soul.

  “Please, you must believe me …” What a stupid thing to say! he thought savagely. Why should they believe me! I’ve done nothing but lie to them ever since I returned. “All right,” he began again, “I know you don’t have any reason to believe me, but at least listen to me! I was walking through Flotsam when an elf attacked me. Seeing me in this get-up”—Tanis gestured at his dragonarmor—“he thought I was a dragon officer. Kitiara saved my life, then she recognized me. She thought I had joined the dragonarmy! What could I say? She”—Tanis swallowed and wiped his hand across his face, “she took me back to the inn and … and …” He choked, unable to continue.

  “And you spent four days and nights in the loving embrace of a Dragon Highlord!” Caramon said, his voice rising in fury. Lurching to his feet, he stabbed an accusing finger at Tanis. “Then after four days, you needed a little rest! So you remembered us and you came calling to make certain we were still waiting for you! And we were! Just like the bunch of trusting lame-brains—”

  “All right, so I was with Kitiara!” Tanis shouted, suddenly angry. “Yes, I loved her! I don’t expect you to understand, any of you! But I never betrayed you! I swear by the gods! When she left for Solamnia, it was the first chance I had to escape and I took it. A draconian followed me, apparently under Kit’s orders. I may be a fool. But I’m not a traitor!”

  “Pah!” Raistlin spit on the floor.

  “Listen, mage!” Tanis snarled. “If I had betrayed you, why was she so shocked to see you two, her brothers! If I had betrayed you, why didn’t I just send a few draconians to the inn to pick you up? I could have, any time. I could have sent them to pick up Berem, too. He’s the one she wants. He’s the one the draconians are searching for in Flotsam! I knew he was on this ship. Kitiara offered me the rulership of Krynn if I’d tell her. That’s how important he is. All I would’ve had to do was lead Kit to him and the Queen of Darkness herself would have rewarded me!”

  “Don’t tell us you didn’t consider it!” Raistlin hissed.

  Tanis opened his mouth, then fell silent. He knew his guilt was as plain on his face as the beard no true elf could grow. He choked, then put his hand over his eyes to block out their faces. “I—I loved her,” he said brokenly. “All these years. I refused to see what she was. And even when I knew, couldn’t help myself. You love”—his eyes went to Riverwind—“and you”—turning to Caramon. The boat pitched again. Tanis gripped the side of the desk as he felt the deck cant away beneath his feet. “What would you have done? For five years, she’s been in my dreams!” He stopped. They were quiet. Caramon’s face was unusually thoughtful. Riverwind’s eyes were on Goldmoon.

  “When she was gone,” Tanis continued, his voice soft and filled with pain, “I lay in her bed and I hated myself. You may hate me now, but you cannot hate me as much as I loathe and despise what I have become! I thought of Laurana and—”

  Tanis fell silent, raising his head. Even as he talked, he had become aware of the motion of the ship changing. The rest glanced around, too. It did not take an experienced seaman to notice that they were no longer pitching around wildly. Now they were running in a smooth forward motion, a motion somehow more ominous because it was so unnatural. Before anyone could wonder what it meant, a crashing knock nearly split the cabin door.

  “Maquesta she say get up here!” shouted Koraf hoarsely.

  Tanis cast one swift glance around at his friends. Riverwind’s face was dark; his eyes met Tanis’s and held them, but there was no light in them. The Plainsman had long distrusted all who were not human. Only after weeks of danger faced together had he come to love and trust Tanis as a brother. Had all that been shattered? Tanis looked at him steadily. Riverwind lowered his gaze and, without a word, started to walk past Tanis, then he stopped.

  “You are right, my friend,” he said, glancing at Goldmoon who was rising to her feet. “I have loved.” Without another word, he turned abruptly and went up on deck.

  Goldmoon gazed mutely as Tanis as she followed her husband, and he saw compassion and understanding in that silent look. He wished he understood, that he could be so forgiving.

  Caramon hesitated, then walked past him without speaking or looking at him. Raistlin followed silently, his head turning, keeping his golden eyes on Tanis every step of the way. Was there a hint of glee in those golden eyes? Long m
istrusted by the others, was Raistlin happy to have company in ignominy at last? The half-elf had no idea what the mage might be thinking. Then Tika went past him, giving him a gentle pat on the arm. She knew what it was to love.…

  Tanis stood a moment alone in the cabin, lost in his own darkness. Then, with a sigh, he followed his friends.

  As soon as he set foot on the deck, Tanis realized what had happened. The others were staring over the side, their faces pale and strained. Maquesta paced the foredeck, shaking her head and swearing fluently in her own language.

  Hearing Tanis approach, she looked up, hatred in her black flashing eyes.

  “You have destroyed us,” she said venomously. “You and the god-cursed helmsman!”

  Maquesta’s words seemed redundant, a repetition of words resounding in his own mind. Tanis began to wonder if she had even spoken, or if it was himself he was hearing.

  “We are caught in the maelstrom.”

  4

  “My brother …”

  T he Perechon hurtled forward, skimming along on top of the water as lightly as a bird. But it was a bird with its wings clipped, riding the swirling tide of a watery cyclone into a blood-red darkness.

  The terrible force pulled the sea waters smooth, until they looked like painted glass. A hollow, eternal roar swelled from the black depths. Even the storm clouds circled endlessly above it, as if all nature were caught in the maelstrom, hurtling to its own destruction.

  Tanis gripped the rail with hands that ached from the tension. Staring into the dark heart of the whirlpool, he felt no fear, no terror, only a strange numb sensation. It didn’t matter anymore. Death would be swift and welcome.

  Everyone on board the doomed ship stood silently, their eyes wide with the horror of what they saw. They were still some distance from the center; the whirlpool was miles and miles in diameter. Smoothly and swiftly, the water flowed. Above them and around them the winds still howled, the rain still beat upon their faces. But it didn’t matter. They didn’t notice it anymore. All they saw was that they were being carried relentlessly into the center of the darkness.

  This fearsome sight was enough to wake Berem from his lethargy. After the first shock, Maquesta began shouting frantic orders. Dazedly, the men carried them out, but their efforts were useless. Sails rigged against the whirling wind tore apart; ropes snapped, flinging men screaming into the water. Try as he might, Berem could not turn the ship or break it free of the water’s fearsome grip. Koraf added his strength to the handling of the wheel, but they might as well have been trying to stop the world from revolving.

  Then Berem quit. His shoulders sagged. He stood staring out into the swirling depths, ignoring Maquesta, ignoring Koraf. His face was calm, Tanis saw; the same calm Tanis remembered seeing on Berem’s face at Pax Tharkas when he took Eben’s hand and ran with him into that deadly wall of cascading boulders. The green jewel in his chest glowed with an eerie light, reflecting the blood red of the water.

  Tanis felt a strong hand clutch his shoulder, shaking him out of his rapt horror.

  “Tanis! Where’s Raistlin?”

  Tanis turned. For a moment he stared at Caramon without recognition, then he shrugged.

  “What does it matter?” he muttered bitterly. “Let him die where he chooses—”

  “Tanis!” Caramon took him by the shoulders and shook him. “Tanis! The dragon orb! His magic! Maybe it can help—”

  Tanis came awake. “By all the gods! You’re right, Caramon!”

  The half-elf looked around swiftly, but he saw no sign of the mage. A cold chill crept over him. Raistlin was capable either of helping them or of helping himself! Dimly Tanis remembered the elven princess, Alhana, saying the dragon orbs had been imbued by their magical creators with a strong sense of self-preservation.

  “Below!” Tanis yelled. Leaping for the hatch, he heard Caramon pounding along behind.

  “What is it?” called Riverwind from the rail.

  Tanis shouted over his shoulder. “Raistlin. The dragon orb. Don’t come. Let Caramon and I handle this. You stay here, with them.”

  “Caramon—” Tika yelled, starting to run after until Riverwind caught her and held her. Giving the warrior an anguished look, she fell silent, slumping back against the rail.

  Caramon did not notice. He plunged ahead of Tanis, his huge body moving remarkably fast. Tumbling down the stairway below decks after him, Tanis saw the door to Maquesta’s cabin open, swinging on its hinges with the motion of the ship. The half-elf dashed in and came to a sudden stop, just inside the door, as if he had run headlong into a wall.

  Raistlin stood in the center of the small cabin. He had lit a candle in a lamp clamped to the bulkhead. The flame made the mage’s face glisten like a metal mask, his eyes flared with golden fire. In his hands, Raistlin held the dragon orb, their prize from Silvanesti. It had grown, Tanis saw. It was now the size of child’s ball. A myriad colors swirled within it. Tanis grew dizzy watching and wrenched his gaze away.

  In front of Raistlin stood Caramon, the big warrior’s face as white as Tanis had seen his corpse in the Silvanesti dream when the warrior lay dead at his feet.

  Raistlin coughed, clutching at his chest with one hand. Tanis started forward, but the mage looked up quickly.

  “Don’t come near me, Tanis!” Raistlin gasped through blood-stained lips.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I am fleeing certain death, Half-Elf!” The mage laughed unpleasantly, the strange laughter Tanis had heard only twice before. “What do you think I am doing?”

  “How?” Tanis asked, feeling a strange fear creep over him as he looked into the mage’s golden eyes and saw them reflect the swirling light of the orb.

  “Using my magic. And the magic of the dragon orb. It is quite simple, though probably beyond your weak mind. I now have the power to harness the energy of my corporeal body and the energy of my spirit into one. I will become pure energy—light, if you want to think of it that way. And, becoming light, I can travel through the heavens like the rays of the sun, returning to this physical world whenever and wherever I choose!”

  Tanis shook his head. Raistlin was right—the thought was beyond him. He could not grasp it, but hope sprang into his heart.

  “Can the orb do this for all of us?” he demanded.

  “Possibly,” Raistlin answered, coughing, “but I am not certain. I will not chance it. I know I can escape. The others are not my concern. You led them into this blood-red death, Half-Elf. You get them out!”

  Anger surged through Tanis, replacing his fear. “At least, your brother—” he began hotly.

  “No one,” Raistlin said, his eyes narrowing. “Stand back.”

  Insane, desperate rage twisted Tanis’s mind. Somehow he’d make Raistlin listen to reason! Somehow they would all use this strange magic to escape! Tanis knew enough about magic to realize that Raistlin dared not cast a spell now. He would need all his strength to control the dragon orb. Tanis started forward, then saw silver flash in the mage’s hand. From nowhere, seemingly, had come a small silver dagger, long concealed on the mage’s wrist by a cunningly designed leather thong. Tanis stopped, his eyes meeting Raistlin’s.

  “All right,” Tanis said, breathing heavily. “You’d kill me without a second thought. But you won’t harm your brother. Caramon, stop him!”

  Caramon took a step toward his twin. Raistlin raised the silver dagger warningly.

  “Don’t do it, my brother,” he said softly. “Come no closer.”

  Caramon hesitated.

  “Go ahead, Caramon!” Tanis said firmly. “He won’t hurt you.”

  “Tell him, Caramon,” Raistlin whispered. The mage’s eyes never left his brother’s. Their hourglass pupils dilated, the golden light flickered dangerously. “Tell Tanis what I am capable of doing. You remember. So do I. It is in our thoughts every time we look at one another, isn’t it, my dear brother?”

  “What’s he talking about?” Tanis demanded, only half liste
ning. If he could distract Raistlin … jump him …

  Caramon blanched. “The Towers of High Sorcery …” he faltered. “But we are forbidden to speak of it! Par-Salian said—”

  “That doesn’t matter now,” Raistlin interrupted in his shattered voice. “There is nothing Par-Salian can do to me. Once I have what has been promised me, not even the great Par-Salian will have the power to face me! But that’s none of your concern. This is.”

  Raistlin drew a deep breath, then began to speak, his strange eyes still on his twin. Only half-listening, Tanis crept closer, his heart pounding in his throat. One swift movement and the frail mage would crumble.… Then Tanis found himself caught and held by Raistlin’s voice, compelled to stop for a moment and listen, almost as if Raistlin was weaving a spell around him.

  “The last test in the Tower of High Sorcery, Tanis, was against myself. And I failed. I killed him, Tanis. I killed my brother”—Raistlin’s voice was calm—“or at least I thought it was Caramon.” The mage shrugged. “As it turned out, it was an illusion created to teach me the depths of my hatred and jealousy. Thus they thought to purge my soul of darkness. What I truly learned was that I lacked self-control. Still, since it was not part of the true Test, my failure did not count against me—except with one person.”

  “I watched him kill me!” Caramon cried wretchedly. “They made me watch so that I would understand him!” The big man’s head dropped in his hands, his body convulsed with a shudder. “I do understand!” he sobbed. “I understood then! I’m sorry! Just don’t go without me, Raist! You’re so weak! You need me—”

  “No longer, Caramon,” Raistlin whispered with a soft sigh. “I need you no longer!”

  Tanis stared at them both, sick with horror. He couldn’t believe this! Not even of Raistlin! “Caramon, go ahead!” he commanded hoarsely.

  “Don’t make him come near me, Tanis,” Raistlin said, his voice gentle, as if he read the half-elf’s thoughts. “I assure you, I am capable of this. What I have sought all my life is within my grasp. I will let nothing stop me. Look at Caramon’s face, Tanis. He knows! I killed him once. I can do it again. Farewell, my brother.”