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Dragons of Winter Night - Margaret Weis [7]

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Tanis snatched his arm from her touch and turned his gaze on Elistan, his eyes filled with anger.

“Raistlin says hope is the denial of reality,” Tanis stated coldly. Then, seeing Elistan’s care-worn face regard him with sorrow, the half-elf smiled wearily. “I apologize, Elistan. I am tired, that’s all. Forgive me. Your suggestion is good. We’ll travel to Tarsis with hope, if nothing else.”

Elistan nodded and turned to leave. “Are you coming, Laurana? I know you are tired, my dear, but we have a great deal to do before I can turn the leadership over to the Council in my absence.”

“I’ll be with you presently, Elistan,” Laurana said, flushing. “I—I want to speak a moment with Tanis.”

Elistan gave them both an appraising, understanding look, then walked through the darkened gateway with Sturm. Tanis began dousing the torches, preparatory to the closing of the gate. Laurana stood near the entrance, her expression growing cold as it became obvious Tanis was ignoring her.

“What is the matter with you?” she said finally. “It almost sounds as if you are taking that dark-souled mage’s part against Elistan, one of the best and wisest humans I have ever met!”

“Don’t judge Raistlin, Laurana,” Tanis said harshly, thrusting a torch into a bucket of water. The light vanished with a hiss. “Things aren’t always black and white, as you elves are inclined to believe. The mage has saved our lives more than once. I have come to rely upon his thinking—which, I admit, I find easier to rely on than blind faith!”

“You elves!” Laurana cried. “How typically human that sounds! There is more elven in you than you care to admit, Tanthalas! You used to say you didn’t wear the beard to hide your heritage, and I believed you. But now I’m not so certain. I’ve lived around humans long enough to know how they feel about elves! But I’m proud of my heritage. You’re not! You’re ashamed of it. Why? Because of that human woman you’re in love with! What’s her name, Kitiara?”

“Stop it, Laurana!” Tanis shouted. Hurling down a torch to the ground, he strode to the elven maiden standing in the doorway. “If you want to discuss relationships, what about you and Elistan? He may be a cleric of Paladine, but he’s a man, a fact to which you can, no doubt, testify! All I hear from you,” he mimicked her voice,” is ‘Elistan is so wise,’ ‘Ask Elistan, he’ll know what to do,’ ‘Listen to Elistan, Tanis—’ ”

“How dare you accuse me of your own failings?” Laurana returned. “I love Elistan. I reverence him. He is the wisest man I have known, and the gentlest. He is self-sacrificing—his entire life is wrapped up in serving others. But there is only one man I love, only one man I have ever loved—though now I am beginning to ask myself if perhaps I haven’t made a mistake! You said, in that awful place, the Sla-Mori, that I was behaving like a little girl and I had better grow up. Well, I have grown, Tanis Half-Elven. In these past few bitter months, I have seen suffering and death. I have been afraid as I never knew fear existed! I have learned to fight, and I have dealt death to my enemies. All of that hurt me inside until I’m so numb I can’t feel the pain anymore. But what hurts worse is to see you with clear eyes.”

“I never claimed to be perfect, Laurana,” Tanis said quietly.

The silver moon and the red had risen, neither of them full yet, but shining brightly enough for Tanis to see tears in Laurana’s luminous eyes. He reached out his hands to take her in his arms, but she took a step backwards.

“You may never claim it,” she said scornfully, “but you certainly enjoy allowing us to think it!”

Ignoring his outstretched hands, she grabbed a torch from the wall and walked into the darkness beyond the gate of Thorbardin. Tanis watched her leave, watched the light shine on her honey-colored hair, watched her walk, as graceful as the slender aspens of their elven homeland of Qualinesti.

Tanis stood for a moment, staring after her, scratching the thick, reddish beard that no elf on Krynn could grow. Pondering Laurana’s last statement, he thought, incongruously, of Kitiara. He

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