over the room. There was something about the smoke that struck a chord in him, a place he'd seen, a person he'd known. Gold-moon looked down at him tenderly. He put a hardened hand to her soft cheek. “The staff is a sliver from the throne of the goddess,” he explained. “Made of sapphire. It is disguised as wood, but will show its true nature when needed. The goddess herself gave it to me. She said I was to give it to you.”
Goldmoon's eyes widened and she gasped. “To me? Why? What shall I do with it?”
“Heal the sick. Repel evil. Perhaps even raise the dead.”
Goldmoon regarded the crude wooden stave with awe. So much power-could she wield it justly?
Even as the thought crossed her mind, the handworn wood began to glow. In a heartbeat, the rod lying across Goldmoon's lap became a fiercely glowing scepter. The chieftain's daughter felt the presence of the goddess, knew the Tightness of her holding the crystal staff. Riverwind grasped the staff also, and the sky-blue aura passed up his arm to envelop him.
“I don't remember much of what happened to me,” Riverwind said. “There was great hardship and an evil place where death rode on black wings. I know that people died, good people, like the old soothsayer, Catchstar. There was a girl-a woman, I think-who saved my life. It's all so blurred and confused.” He looked into her eyes. “But throughout my trials, the one truth I held firm was you. Your love always broke through the veils cast around me. It saved more than my life. It saved my soul.”
Goldmoon couldn't speak through her tears, but her hand on Riverwind's face was soft and warm.
The divine glow penetrated and healed Riverwind's fever-plagued body. When it finally dimmed and receded, he lifted his arms and embraced the woman he loved.
