To be invited to take the Test is a great honor, an honor accorded to few, and should be taken seriously. You may impart knowledge of this honor to members of your immediate family, but to no others. Failure to accede to this injunction could mean the forfeiture of the right to take the Test.

You will bring with you your spellbook and spell components. You will wear robes representing the alliance of your sponsor. The color of the robes you will wear, if and when you are apprenticed- i.e., your allegiance to one of the three gods-will be determined during the Test. You will carry no weapons, nor any magical artifacts. Magical artifacts will be provided during the Test itself in order to judge your skill in the handling of said artifacts.

In the unfortunate event of your demise during the Test, all personal effects will be returned to your family.

You may be provided with an escort to the Tower, but your escort should be aware that he or she will not be permitted to enter the Guardian Forest. Any attempt by the escort to force entry will result in most grievous harm to the escort. We will not be held responsible.

That last sentence had been written, then crossed out, as if the writer had experienced second thoughts. An addendum had been inserted.

An exception to this rule is made in regard to Caramon Majere, twin brother to the aforementioned contestant. Caramon Majere is expressly desired to attend his brother's testing. He will be admitted into the Guardian Forest. His safety will be guaranteed, at least during the time he is inside the forest.

Raistlin lowered the scroll, let it roll back upon itself. His hands lacked the strength to hold it up, keep it open. To be invited to take the Test so young, to be even considered capable of taking the Test at his novitiate stage, was an honor of incredible magnitude. He was overcome with joy, joy and pride.

Of course, there was that cautionary phrase, In the event of your demise. Later, in the small hours of the night, when he would lie awake, unable to sleep for his excitement, that sentence would rise up before him, a skeletal hand reaching out to grasp him, drag him down. But now, filled with confidence in himself, proud of his achievements and the fact that these achievements had evidently impressed the members of the conclave, Raistlin had no fear, no qualms.

"I thank you, Master," he began when he could control his voice sufficiently to speak.

"Don't thank me," Theobald said, standing. "It is likely that I am sending you to your doom. I won't have your death on my conscience. I told Par-Salian as much. I go on record as being opposed to this folly."

Raistlin accompanied his guest to the door. "I am sorry you have so little faith in me, Master."

Theobald made an impatient gesture with his hand. "Come to me if you have any questions on your spellbook."

"I will do so, Master," said Raistlin, privately resolving that he would see Theobald in the Abyss first. "Thank you." After the master had gone and Raistlin had shut the door behind him, it was now Raistlin's turn to caper about the house. Transported with happiness, he lifted the skirts of his robes and performed several of the round-dance steps Caramon had struggled for years to teach him. Entering at that moment, Caramon stared openmouthed at his brother. His astonishment increased tenfold when Raistlin ran over to his twin, flung his arms around him, embraced him, then burst into tears. "What's wrong?"

Caramon misread his brother's emotions, his heart almost stopped in terror. He dropped his sword, which fell to the floor with a resounding clang, to clutch at his twin. "Raistlin! What's wrong? What's the matter? Who died?"

"Nothing is the matter, my brother!" Raistlin cried, laughing and drying his tears. "Nothing in the world is the matter! For once, everything is right."

He waved the scroll, which he still held in his hand, pranced about the small room until he collapsed, out of breath but still laughing, in his mother's rocking chair.

"Shut the door, my brother. And come sit beside me. We have a great deal to discuss."

Swearing Caramon to secrecy regarding the Test proved a difficult task. In his exuberance, Raistlin showed Caramon the precious document summoning them both to the Tower at Wayreth. Caramon came across the unfortunate line in the event of your demise and was extremely upset. So upset that, at first, he vowed Raistlin should not go, that he would have Tanis and Sturm and Flint and Otik and half the population of Solace sit on Raistlin before he should take a Test where the penalty for failure was death.

Raistlin was at first touched by Caramon's very genuine concern. Exhibiting unusual patience, Raistlin tried to explain to his twin the reasoning behind such drastic measures.

"My dear brother, as you yourself have seen, magic wielded by the wrong hands can be extremely dangerous. The conclave wants only those among their ranks who have proven that they are disciplined, skillful, and-most important-dedicated body and soul to the art. Thus those who merely dabble in magic, who practice it for their own amusement, do not want to take the Test, because they are not prepared to risk their lives for the magic."

"It is murder," Caramon said in a low voice. "Murder, plain and simple."

"No, no, my brother." Raistlin was soothing. Thinking of Lemuel, Raistlin smiled as he added, "Those deemed not suitable for taking the Test are prohibited from doing so by the conclave. They permit only those magi who have an excellent chance of passing to take the Test. And, my dear brother, very, very few fail. The risk is extremely minor and, for me, no risk at all. You know how hard I have worked and studied. I can't possibly fail!"

"Is that true?" Caramon lifted his pale, haggard face, regarded his twin with a searching, unblinking gaze.

"I swear it." Raistlin sat back in the rocker, smiled again. He couldn't keep from smiling.

"Then why do they want me to come with you?" Caramon asked suspiciously.

Raistlin was forced to pause before answering. Truth to tell, he didn't know why Caramon should be invited to come along. The more Raistlin thought about it, the more he resented the fact. Certainly it was logical for his brother to escort him as far as the forest, but why should he come farther? It was extremely unusual for the conclave to permit entry to their Tower to any person outside their ranks.

"I'm not sure," Raistlin admitted at last. "Probably it has something to do with the fact that we are twins. There is nothing sinister about it, Caramon, if that's what you are thinking. You will merely accompany me to the Tower and wait until I have finished the Test. Then we will return home together."

Envisioning that triumphant journey back to Solace, Raistlin's spirits, which had been shadowed a moment before, were elevated to the heavens and sparkled bright as the stars.

Caramon was dolefully shaking his head. "I don't like it. I think you should discuss it with Tanis."

"I tell you again, I am not permitted to discuss it with anyone, Caramon!" Raistlin said angrily, losing patience at last. "Can't you get that through your gully-dwarf skull?"

Caramon looked unhappy and uneasy, but still defiant.

Raistlin left the rocking chair. Hands clenched to fists, he stood over his brother, stared down at him, spoke to him with passionate intensity.

"I am commanded to keep this secret, and I will do so. And so will you, my brother. You will not mention this to Tanis. You will not mention this to Kitiara. You will not mention this to Sturm or anyone else. Do you understand me, Caramon? No one must know!"

Raistlin paused, drew a breath, then said quietly, so that there could be no doubt of his sincerity, "If you do-if you ruin this chance for me-then I have no brother."