'No, Caramon!' Justarius's fist clenched, his gray brows drew together. 'Raistlin made a deliberate choice to turn his back upon the light and embrace the darkness. Fistandantilus gave him the power to pass the Test and, in exchange, Raistlin gave Fistandantilus part of his life force in order to help the liche's spirit survive. That is what shattered his body-not the Test. Raistlin said it himself, Caramon! 'This is the sacrifice I made for my magic!' How many times did you hear him say those words!'
'Enough!' Scowling, Caramon stood up. 'It was Par-Salian's fault. No matter what evil my twin did after that, you mages started him down the path he eventually walked.' Motioning to his sons, Caramon turned upon his heel and walked rapidly from the chamber, heading for what he hoped (in this strange place) was the way out.
'No!' Justarius rose unsteadily to his feet, unable to put his full weight upon his crippled left leg. But his voice was powerful, thundering through the chamber. 'Listen and understand, Caramon Majere! You must, or you will regret it bitterly!'
Caramon stopped. Slowly, he turned around, but only half way. 'Is this a threat?' he asked, glaring at Justarius over his shoulder.
'No threat, at least not one we make,' Justarius said. 'Think, Caramon! Don't you see the danger? It happened once, it can happen again!'
'I don't understand,' Caramon said stubbornly, his hand on his sword, still considering.
Like a snake uncoiling to strike, Dalamar leaned forward in his chair. 'Yes, you do!' His voice was soft and lethal. 'You understand. Don't ask for us to tell you details, for we cannot. But know this-by certain signs we have seen and certain contacts we have made in realms beyond this one, we have reason to believe that Raistlin lives- much as did Fistandantilus. He seeks a way back into this world. He needs a body to inhabit. And you, his beloved twin, have thoughtfully provided him with one-young, strong, and already trained in magic.'
Dalamar's words sank into Caramon's flesh like poisoned fangs. 'Your son…'
CHAPTER FOUR
Justarius resumed his seat, easing himself into the great stone chair carefully. Smoothing the folds of his red robes about him with hands that looked remarkably young for his age, he spoke to Caramon, though his eyes were on the white-robed young man standing at his father's side. 'Thus you see, Caramon Majere, that we cannot possibly let your son-Raistlin's nephew-continue to study magic and take the Test without first making certain that his uncle cannot use this young man to gain entry back into the world.'
'Especially,' added Dunbar gravely, 'since the young man's loyalties to one particular Order have yet to be established.'
'What do you mean?' Caramon frowned. 'Take the Test? He's long way from taking the Test. And as for his loyalties, he chose to wear the White Robes-'
'You and Mother chose that I wear the White Robes,' Palin said evenly, his eyes avoiding his father. When only hurt silence answered him, Palin made an irritated gesture. 'Oh, come now. Father. You know as well as I do that you wouldn't have considered letting me study magic under any other conditions. I knew better than to even ask!'
'But the young man must declare the allegiance that is in his heart. Only then can he use the true power of his magic. And he must do this during his Test,' Dun-bar said gently.
'Test! What is this talk of the Test! I tell you he hasn't even made up his mind whether or not to take the damn thing. And if I have anything to say about it-' Caramon stopped speaking abruptly, his gaze going to his son's face. Palin stared at the stone floor, his cheeks flushed, his lips pressed tightly together.
'Well, never mind that,' Caramon muttered, drawing a deep breath. Behind him, he could hear his other two sons shuffling nervously, the rattle of Tanin's sword, Sturm's soft cough. He was acutely aware, too, of the wizards watching him, especially of Dala-mar's cynical smile. If only he and Palin could be alone! Caramon sighed. It was something they should have talked about before this, he supposed. But he kept hoping…
Turning his back on the wizards, he faced his youngest son. 'What… what other loyalty would you choose, Palin?' he asked belatedly, trying to make amends. 'You're a good person, son! You enjoy helping people, serving others! White seems obvious…'
'I don't know whether I enjoy serving others or not,' Palin cried impatiently, losing control. 'You thrust me into this role, and look where it has gotten me! You admit yourself that I am not as strong or skilled in magic as my uncle was at my age. That was because he devoted his life to study! He let nothing interfere with it. It seems to me a man must put the magic first, the world second..'
Closing his eyes in pain, Caramon listened to his son's words, but he heard them spoken by another voice-a soft, whispering voice, a shattered voice —
'Yes,' said Caramon in a choked voice, reaching out and grasping his son in his big arms, 'I know your mother.' Clearing his throat, he tried to smile. 'She might have thrown something at you-she did me once-most of my armor as I recall. But her aim is terrible, especially when it's someone she loves…'
Caramon couldn't go, but stood holding his son. Looking over his shoulder at the wizards, he asked harshly, 'Is this necessary, right now? Let us go home and talk about it. Why can't we wait-'
'Because this night there is a rare occurrence,' Justa-rius answered. 'The silver moon, the black, and the red are all three in the sky at the same time. The power of magic is stronger this night than it has been in a century. If Raistlin has the ability to call upon the magic and escape the Abyss-it could be on a night like this.'
Caramon bowed his head, his hand stroking his son's auburn hair. Then, his arm around Palin's shoulder, he turned to face the wizards, his face grim.
'Very well,' he said huskily, 'what do you want us to do?'
'You must return with me to the Tower in Palan-thas,' said Dalamar. 'And there, we will attempt to enter the Portal-'
'The Tower? Let us ride as far as the Shoikan Grove with you. Father,' Tanin pleaded.
'Yes!' added Sturm eagerly. 'You'll need us, you know you will. The road to Palanthas is open, the Knights see to that, but we've had reports from Porthios of draconian parties, lying in ambush-'
'I am sorry to disappoint you, warriors,' said Dalamar, a slight smile upon his lips, 'but we will not be using the roads between here and Palanthas. Conventional roads, that is,' he amended.
Both the young men looked confused. Glancing warily at the dark elf, Tanin frowned as though he suspected a trick.
Palin patted Tanin's arm. 'He means magic, my brother. Before you and Sturm reach the front entry-way, Father and I will be standing in Dalamar's study in the Tower of High Sorcery in Palanthas-the Tower my uncle claimed as his own,' he addedsoftly. Palin had not meant anyone to hear his last words, but glancing around-he caught Dalamar's intense, knowing gaze.
'Yes, that's where we'll be,' muttered Caramon, his face darkening at the thought. 'And you two will be on your way home,' he added, eyeing his older sons sternly. 'You have to tell your mother-'
'I'd rather face ogres,' said Tanin gloomily.
'Me, too,' Caramon said with a grin that ended in a sigh. Leaning down suddenly to make certain his pack was cinched tightly, he kept his face carefully in the shadows. 'Just make certain she's not standing where she can get hold of the crockery,' he said, keeping his voice carefully light.
'She knows me. She's been expecting this. In fact, I think she knew when we left,' Palin said, remembering his mother's tender hug and cheery smile as she stood at the door to the Inn, waving atthem with an old towel. Glancing behind him as they had been rid ing out of town, Palin recalled seeing that towel cover his mother's face, her friend Dezra's arms going around her comfortingly.
'Besides,' said Caramon, standing up to glare at his older two sons, his tone now severe, 'you both promised Porthios you'd go to Qualinesti and help the elves handle those draconian raiding parties. You know what Porthios is like. It took him ten years to even speak to us. Now he's showing signs of being friendly. I won't have sons of mine going back on their word, especially to that stiff-necked elf. No of tense,' he said, glancing at Dalamar.
