'I'm going to him. You can't stop me.' Nikol, her right hand still held fast in Raistlin's grasp, reached for her sword with the left.
Sparks jumped from the hilt. She snatched her hand back, wringing it in pain. Again she tried; again the sparks. She glared at the mage.
'You foul wizards are in league! I should have known! I never should have trusted — '
'Silence!' ordered Raistlin.
His gaze was intent on Akar. His entire being seemed concentrated on his counterpart. He had even ceased, for the moment, to cough. A faint tinge of color burned in the thin cheeks. He didn't seem to notice the woman struggling in his grasp, though his hold on her never loosened.
Nikol twisted around to face Michael.
'Why are you standing there? Go to Nicholas! Save him! This wicked man has no hold on you! He cannot fight us both!'
Michael started forward, reluctant to turn away from the shining bridge, yet his heart ached for the gallant young knight and for the sister who suffered with him. The voice of Raistlin stopped him, held the cleric as completely as the mage's hand held Nikol.
'Far more is at stake here than the life of one brave knight. The fate of the world hangs in the balance on Gilean's scales.' Raistlin glanced at Michael. 'What do you see, healer?'
'I see… a sight more beautiful than anything I've ever seen in my life. A temple stands before me, its columns of black and white and red marble. Its dome is the heavens, its roof the constellations. A bridge of starlight extends from this world to worlds beyond. People walk across that bridge — men, women, human, elven. They look back at this world with regret, their faces sad. But Paladine is with them, and he reassures them, and they turn to the door with hope.'
'What have you done?' Nikol demanded of Raistlin. 'You've bewitched him!'
Michael himself took a step forward, as if he would follow. An outraged cry jolted him back to this world. Akar had regained his feet. He glared at the knight in anger.
'Truly, as I said, a tough breed. Come, Sir Knight, I am losing patience. Time grows too short for more games.'
Akar kicked Nicholas in the face. The knight fell back without a sound and lay still and unmoving. Akar grasped Nicholas, this time by the shoulders, and began hauling the limp body across the ground.
'He's taking him to the temple! What does he plan to do?' Michael asked Raistlin, who watched all with an expression grim and stem.
'He plans to murder him!' Nikol cried, trying again to free herself.
'My lady, please — ' Michael began gently.
'Leave me be!' Nikol's eyes flared. 'You're ensorcelled. The wizard's cast some sort of spell on you! Bridge of starlight! Radiant temple! It's a broken ruins, probably an altar of evil, consecrated to the Dark Queen!'
Michael stared at her. 'Can't you see?…'
'No, she cannot,' said Raistlin. 'She sees a ruined citadel, nothing more. You alone, cleric, see the truth. You alone can stop Her Dark Majesty in her efforts to return to this world.'
Michael didn't believe the wizard. How could Nikol not see what was so obvious and beautiful to him? And yet Nikol was staring at him angrily, fearfully, as if he were indeed a person acting under a spell.
'What must I do?' he asked in a low voice.
'The lady is right. Akar intends to murder the knight, but the mage must commit the crime within the precinct of the ruins or, as you see it, on the bridge of starlight. If the blood of the good and virtuous is spilled on the sacred bridge, the dark clerics, long held prisoner in the Abyss, will be free to return to Krynn.'
'Will you help me?' Michael demanded.
'Don't trust him!' Nikol cried, twisting in the mage's grasp. 'His robes are cut from the same black cloth!'
'I brought you here,' said Raistlin softly. 'And without my help, you will not succeed. Your brother will die, and all of Krynn will fall into the hand of the Dark Queen.'
'What must we do?' Michael asked.
'When Akar drops the dagger, pick it up swiftly and do not allow him to retake it. He has foolishly bound the knight's life in the weapon.'
'I will seize it,' said Nikol.
'No!'
Perhaps it was a trick of the light shining from the temple, but the wizard's brown eyes, staring at Michael, gleamed suddenly golden, as if that were their true color, the other, only a disguise.
'The cleric alone must take the dagger, else the spell cannot be broken.'
'What do I do then?' Michael's gaze shifted back to the black-robed wizard, laboriously dragging the body of the dying knight across the grass.
'I do not know,' said Raistlin. 'I cannot hear the voice of the gods. You can. You must listen to what they say.
'And you, my lady' — the wizard released Nikol's hand — 'must listen to your heart.'
Nikol sprang away from Raistlin, drawing her sword in the same motion. She held it, blade toward the wizard, as she began backing up. 'I don't need either of you. I don't need your gods or your magic. I will save my brother.'
She ran off, sword flashing in the temple light, a light that, to her, was darkness.
Michael took a step after her, fear for her and for himself and for them all constricting his heart. Then he paused, turned to look at the wizard.
Raistlin stood leaning on his staff, regarding the cleric intently.
'I don't trust you,' said Michael.
'Is it me you do not trust?' asked the wizard, his thin lips twisted in a smile. 'Or yourself?'
Michael turned without responding, ran after Nikol. There came to him the words, 'Remember, when the dagger falls, pick it up.'
Part VIII
Sweating and straining, stumbling over the hem of his black robes, Akar dragged the unconscious knight across rough and uneven ground. The mage, though strong, was more accustomed to spending his time studying his spells. Akar was forced to pause a moment in his exertions, rest aching muscles. He glanced over his shoulder to judge the distance to his destination.
He could see, by Nuitari's dark light, a ruined citadel, its stone walls crumbling into dust. A bridge extended outward from the broken floor, a bridge that glimmered with a ghostly, wraithlike glow. On the far side of the bridge, shadowy figures reached out eager hands to him. Hollow voices shouted for him to free them, release the legions of darkness.
'A few moments more, Knight, and you will be free of this life and I will be free of you, for which we both will be grateful,' Akar grunted, bending once again to his task.
Nicholas had regained consciousness, pushed back the shadows that would have brought him blessed relief from the agony he suffered. But worse than the pain of his wounds was the bitter knowledge that he would be, however innocently, responsible for the resurgence of evil in the world. He kept his gaze focused on the face of his enemy.
'Why do you stare at me so?' Akar demanded, somewhat disconcerted by that burning-eyed gaze that never left him. 'If you are afraid you will not recognize me when our souls meet on the other side, save yourself the trouble. I will be more than happy to introduce myself.'
It took all the knight's will to release each indrawn breath in a sigh and not a scream. Nicholas managed a smile, through lips caked with blood, parched and cracked from thirst. 'I watch you as I would watch any opponent,' he whispered hoarsely. 'I wait for you to slip, to lower your guard, to make a mistake.'
Akar laughed. 'And then what will you do, Sir Knight? Drool on me? Or do you have the strength to do that
