Dragons of Spring Dawning - Margaret Weis [20]
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