spoke to him swiftly in the elven language.
'What do they say?' Riverwind asked Tanis suspiciously.
'Gilthanas is telling how Goldmoon healed Theros,' Tanis said slowly. It had been many, many years since he had heard or spoken more than a few words in the elven tongue. He had forgotten how beautiful the language was, so beautiful it seemed to cut his soul and leave him wounded and bleeding inside. He watched as Porthios's eyes widened in disbelief.
Then Gilthanas pointed at Tanis. Both the brothers turned to face him, their expressive elven features hardening. Riverwind flicked a glance at Tanis, saw the half-elf standing pale but composed under this scrutiny.
'You return to the land of your birth, do you not?' Riverwind asked. 'It does not seem you are welcome.'
'Yes,' Tanis said grimly, aware of what the Plainsman was thinking. He knew Riverwind was not prying into personal affairs out of curiosity. In many ways, they were in more danger now than they had been with the Fewmaster.
'They will take us to Qualinost,' Tanis said slowly, the words apparently causing him deep pain. 'I have not been there for many years. As Flint will tell you, I was not forced out, but few were sorry to see me leave. As you once said to me, Riverwind-to humans I am half-elven. To elves, I was half-man.'
'Then let us leave and travel south with the others,' Riverwind said.
'You would never get out of here alive,' Flint murmured.
Tanis nodded. 'Look around,' he said.
Riverwind glanced around him and saw the elven warriors moving like shadows among the trees, their brown clothing blending in with the wilderness that was their home. As the two elves ended their conversation, Porthios turned his gaze from Tanis back to Goldmoon.
'I have heard strange tales from my brother that bear investigation. I extend to you, therefore, what the elves have extended to no humans in years-our hospitality. You will be our honored guests. Please follow me.'
Porthios gestured. Nearly two dozen elven warriors emerged from the woods, surrounding the companions.
'Honored prisoners is more like it. This is going to be rough on you, my lad,' Flint said to Tanis in a low, gentle voice.
'I know, old friend.' Tanis rested his hand on the dwarf's shoulder. 'I know.'
5
The Speaker of the Suns
I have never imagined such beauty existed,' Goldmoon said softly. The day's march had been difficult, but the reward at the end was beyond their dreams. The companions stood on a high cliff over the fabled city of Qualinost.
Four slender spires rose from the city's corners like glistening spindles, their brilliant white stone marbled with shining silver. Graceful arches, swooping from spire to spire, soared through the air. Grafted by ancient dwarven metalsmiths, they were strong enough to hold the weight of an army, yet they appeared so delicate that a bird lighting on them might overthrow the balance. These glistening arches were the city's only boundaries; there was no wall around Qualinost. The elven city opened its arms lovingly to the wilderness.
The buildings of Qualinost enhanced nature, rather than concealing it. The houses and shops were carved from rose-colored quartz. Tall and slender as aspen trees, they vaulted upward in impossible spirals from quartz- lined avenues. In the center stood a great tower of burnished gold, catching the sun-light and throwing it back in whirling, sparkling patterns that gave the tower life. Looking down upon the city, it seemed that peace and beauty unchanged from ages past must dwell in Qualinost, if it dwelled anywhere in Krynn.
'Rest here,' Gilthanas told them, leaving them in a grove of aspen trees. 'The journey has been long, and for that I apologize. I know you are weary and you hunger-'
Caramon looked up hopefully.
'But I must beg your indulgence a few moments longer. Please excuse me.' Gilthanas bowed, then walked to stand by his brother. Sighing, Caramon began rummaging through his pack for the fifth time, hoping perhaps he had overlooked a morsel. Raistlin read his spellbook, his lips repeating the difficult words, trying to grasp their meaning, to find the correct inflection and phrasing that would make his blood burn and so tell him the spell was his at last.
The others looked around, marveling at the beauty of the city beneath them and the aura of ancient tranquility that lay over it. Even Riverwind seemed touched; his face softened and he held Goldmoon close. For a brief instant, their cares and their sorrows eased and they found comfort in each other's nearness. Tika sat apart, watching them wistfully. Tasslehoff was trying to map their way from Gateway into Qualinost, although Tanis had told him four times that the way was secret and the elves would never permit him to carry off a map. The old magician, Fizban, was asleep. Sturm and Flint watched Tanis in concern-Flint because he alone had any idea of what the half-elf was suffering; Sturm because he knew what it was like returning to a home that didn't want you.
The knight laid his hand on Tanis's arm. 'Coming home isn't easy, my friend, is it?' he asked.
'No,' Tanis answered softly. 'I thought I had left this behind long ago, but now I know I never truly left at all. Qualinesti is part of me, no matter how much I want to deny it.'
'Hush-Gilthanas,' Flint warned.
The elf came over to Tanis. 'Runners were sent ahead and now they have returned,' he said in elven. 'My father has asked to see you-all of you-at once, in the Tower of the Sun. I can not permit time for refreshment. In this we seem crude and impolite-'
'Gilthanas,' Tanis interrupted in Common. 'My friends and I have been through unimagined peril. We have traveled roads where-literally-the dead walked. We won't faint from hunger'-he glanced at Caramon-'some of us won't, at any rate.'
The warrior, hearing Tanis, sighed and tightened his belt.
'Thank you,' Gilthanas said stiffly. 'I am glad you understand. Now, please follow as swiftly as you can.'
The companions gathered their things hastily and woke Fizban. Rising to his feet, he fell over a tree root. 'Big lummox!' he snapped, striking it with his staff. 'There-did you see it? Tried to trip me!' he said to Raistlin.
The mage slipped his precious book back into its pouch. 'Yes, Old One.' Raistlin smiled, assisting Fizban to his feet. The old magician leaned on the young one's shoulder as they walked after the others. Tanis watched them, wondering. The old magician was obviously a dotard. Yet Tanis remembered Raistlin's look of stark terror when he woke and found Fizban leaning over him. What had the mage seen? What did he know about this old man? Tanis reminded himself to ask. Now, however, he had other, more pressing matters on his mind. Walking forward, he caught up with the elf.
'Tell me, Gilthanas,' Tanis said in elven, the unfamiliar words haltingly coming back to him. 'What's going on? I have a right to know.'
'Have you?' Gilthanas asked harshly, glancing at Tanis from the corners of his almond-shaped eyes. 'Do you care what happens to elves anymore? You can barely speak our language!'
'Of course, I care,' Tanis said angrily. 'You are my people too!'
'Then why do you flaunt your human heritage?' Gilthanas gestured to Tanis's bearded face. 'I would think you would be ashamed-' He stopped, biting his lip, his face flushing.
Tanis nodded grimly. 'Yes, I was ashamed, and that's why I left. But if I was ashamed-who made me so?'
'Forgive me, Tanthalas,' Gilthanas said, shaking his head. 'What I said was cruel and, truly, I did not mean it. It's just that… if you only understood the danger we face!'
