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“I agree,” muttered Flint. “After all, we’re not the ones who are going to be in danger. We’ll be safer without the dragon orb. It’s the orb the elves want.”

“Yes,” agreed Silvara, her voice soft. “We’ll be safer without the orb. It is you who will be in danger.”

“Then my way is clear,” Sturm said. “I will go with Derek.”

“And if I order you to stay behind?” Derek demanded.

“You have no authority over me,” Sturm said, his brown eyes dark. “Have you forgotten? I am not a knight.”

There was a painful, profound silence. Derek stared at Sturm intently.

“No,” he said, “and if I have my way, you never will be!”

Sturm flinched, as if Derek had struck him a physical blow. Then he stood up, sighing heavily.

Derek had already begun to gather his gear. Sturm moved more slowly, picking up his bedroll with thoughtful deliberation. Laurana pulled herself to her feet and went to Sturm.

“Here,” she said, reaching into her pack. “You’ll need food—”

“You could come with us,” Sturm said in low tones as she divided up their supplies. “Tanis knows we were going to Sancrist. He will come there, too, if possible.”

“You’re right,” Laurana said, her eyes brightening. “Perhaps that would be a good idea—” Then her eyes went to Silvara. The Wilder elf held the dragon orb, still shrouded in its cloak. Silvara’s eyes were closed, almost as if she were communing with some unseen spirit. Sighing, Laurana shook her head. “No, I’ve got to stay with her, Sturm,” she said softly. “Something’s not right. I don’t understand—” she broke off, unable to articulate her thoughts. “What about Derek?” she asked instead. “Why is he so insistent on going alone? The dwarf’s right about the danger. If the elves capture you, without us, they won’t hesitate to kill you.”

Sturm’s face was drawn, bitter. “Can you ask? Lord Derek Crownguard returns alone out of horrifying dangers, bearing with him the coveted dragon orb—” Sturm shrugged.

“But there’s so much at stake,” Laurana protested.

“You’re right, Laurana,” Sturm said harshly. “There’s a lot at stake. More than you know—the leadership of the Knights of Solamnia. I can’t explain it now.…”

“Come along, Brightblade, if you’re coming!” Derek snarled.

Sturm took the food, stowing it in his pack. “Farewell, Laurana,” he said, bowing to her with the quiet gallantry that marked all his actions.

“Farewell, Sturm, my friend,” she whispered, putting her arms around the knight.

He held her closely, then kissed her gently on the forehead.

“We will give the orb to the wise men to study. The Council of Whitestone will meet soon,” he said. “The elves will be invited to attend, since they are advisory members. You must come to Sancrist as soon as possible, Laurana. Your presence will be needed.”

“I’ll be there, the gods willing,” Laurana said, her eyes going to Silvara, who was handing Derek the dragon orb. An expression of inexpressible relief flitted over Silvara’s face when Derek turned to go.

Sturm said good-bye, then he plunged into the snow after Derek. The companions saw a flash of light as his shield caught the sun.

Suddenly Laurana took a step forward. “Wait!” she cried. “I’ve got to stop them. They should take the dragonlance, too.”

“No!” Silvara shouted, running to block Laurana’s path.

Angrily, Laurana reached out to shove the girl aside, then she saw Silvara’s face and her hand stopped.

“What are you doing, Silvara?” Laurana asked. “Why did you send them off? Why were you so eager to split us up? Why give them the orb and not the lance—”

Silvara didn’t answer. She simply shrugged and stared at Laurana with eyes bluer than midnight. Laurana felt her will being drained by those blue, blue eyes. She was reminded terrifyingly of Raistlin.

Gilthanas, too, stared at Silvara with a perplexed and worried expression. Theros stood grim and stern, glancing at Laurana as if beginning to share her doubts. But they were not able to move. They were completely under Silvara’s control—yet what had she done to them? They could only stand and stare at the Wilder