He remembered standing alone, in the center of the town, looking at piles of dust with arrowheads in them, and recognizing them as bodies of draconians.

He remembered a cold hand touching his arm and the mage's whispering voice. "Tanis, we must leave. There is nothing more we can do and we must reach Xak Tsaroth. Then we will have our revenge."

And so they left Que-shu. They traveled far into the night, none of them wanting to stop, each wanting to push his body to the point of exhaustion so that, when they finally slept, there would be no evil dreams.

But the dreams came anyway.

Tanis felt clawed hands clutching at his throat. He struggled and fought, then woke to find Riverwind bending over him in the darkness, shaking him roughly.

"What…?" Tanis sat up.

"You were dreaming," the Plainsman said grimly. "I had to wake you. Your shouts would draw an army down on us."

"Yes, thanks," Tanis muttered. "I'm sorry." He sat up, trying to shake off the nightmare. "What time is it?"

"Still several hours till dawn," Riverwind said wearily. He returned to where he had been sitting, his back against the trunk of a twisted tree. Goldmoon lay sleeping on the ground beside him. She began to murmur and shake her head, making small, soft, moaning cries like a wounded animal. Riverwind stroked her silver-gold hair, and she quieted.

"You should have wakened me earlier," Tanis said. He stood up, rubbing his shoulders and neck. "It's my watch."

"Do you think I could sleep?" asked Riverwind bitterly.

"You've got to," Tanis answered. "You'll slow us up if you don't."

"The men in my tribe can travel for many days without sleep," Riverwind said. His eyes were dull and glazed, and he seemed to stare at nothing.

Tanis started to argue, then sighed and kept quiet. He knew that he could never truly understand the agony the Plainsman was suffering. To have friends and family-an entire life-utterly destroyed, must be so devastating that the mind shrank from even imagining it. Tanis left him and walked over to where Flint was sitting carving at a piece of wood.

"You might as well get some sleep," Tanis told the dwarf. "I'll watch for a while."

Flint nodded. "I heard you yelling over there." He sheathed his dagger and thrust the piece of wood into a pouch. "Defending Que-shu?"

Tanis frowned at the memory. Shivering in the chill night, he wrapped his cloak around him, drew up his hood. "Any idea where we are?" he asked Flint.

"The Plainsman says we're on a road known as Sageway East," the dwarf answered. He stretched out on the cold ground, dragging a blanket up around his shoulders. "Some old highway. It's been around since before the Cataclysm."

"I don't suppose we'd be fortunate enough to have this road take us into Xak Tsaroth?"

"Riverwind doesn't seem to think so," the dwarf mumbled sleepily. "Says he's only followed it a short distance. But at least it gets us through the mountains." He gave a great yawn and turned over, pillowing his head on his cloak.

Tanis breathed deeply. The night seemed peaceful enough. They hadn't run into any draconians or goblins in their wild flight from Que-shu. As Raistlin said, apparently the draconians had attacked Que-shu in search of the staff, not as part of any preparations for battle. They had struck and then withdrawn. The Forestmaster's time limit still held good, Tanis supposed-Xak Tsaroth within two days. And one day had already passed.

Shivering, the half-elf walked back over to Riverwind. "Do you have any idea how far we have to go and in what direction?" Tanis crouched down next to the Plainsman.

"Yes," Riverwind nodded, rubbing his burning eyes. "We must go to the northeast, toward Newsea. That is where the city is rumored to be. I have never been there-" He frowned, then shook his head. "I've never been there," he repeated.

"Can we reach it by tomorrow?" Tanis asked.

"Newsea is said to be two days' journey from Que-shu." The barbarian sighed. "If Tak Tsaroth exists, we should be able to reach it in a day, though I have heard that the land from here to Newsea is swampy and difficult to travel."

He shut his eyes, his hand absently stroking Goldmoon's hair. Tanis fell silent, hoping the Plainsman would sleep. The half-elf moved quietly to sit beneath the tree, staring into the night. He made a mental note to ask Tasslehoff in the morning if he had a map.

The kender did have a map, but it wasn't much help, dating, as it did, before the Cataclysm. Newsea wasn't on the map since it had appeared after the land had been torn apart and the waters of Turbidus Ocean had rushed in to fill it. Still, the map showed Xak Tsaroth only a short distance from the highway marked Sageway East. They should reach it some time that afternoon, if the territory they had to cross wasn't impassable.

The companions ate a cheerless breakfast, most forcing the food down without appetite. Raistlin brewed his foul-smelling herbal drink over the small fire, his strange eyes lingering on Goldmoon's staff.

"How precious it has become," he commented softly, "now that it has been purchased by the blood of innocents."

"Is it worth it? Is it worth the lives of my people?" Goldmoon asked, staring at the nondescript brown staff dully. She seemed to have aged during the night. Gray circles smudged the skin beneath her eyes.

None of the companions answered, each looking away in awkward silence. Riverwind stood up abruptly and stalked off into the woods by himself. Goldmoon lifted her eyes and stared after him, then her head sank into her hand and she began to weep silently. "He blames himself." She shook her head. "And I am not helping him. It wasn't his fault."

"It's not anyone's fault," Tanis said slowly, walking over to her. He put his hand on her shoulder, rubbing out the tenseness he felt in the bunched muscles of her neck. "We can't understand. We've just got to keep going and hope we find the answer in Xak Tsaroth."

She nodded and wiped her eyes, drew a deep breath, and blew her nose on a handkerchief Tasslehoff handed her.

"You're right," she said, swallowing. "My father would be ashamed of me. I must remember-I am Chieftain's Daughter."

"No," came Riverwind's deep voice from where he stood behind her in the shadows of the trees. "You are Chieftain."

Goldmoon gasped. She twisted to her feet to stare, wideeyed, at Riverwind. "Perhaps I am," she faltered, "but it is meaningless. Our people are dead-"

"I saw tracks," Riverwind answered. "Some managed to flee. They have probably gone into the mountains. They will return, and you will be their ruler."

"Our people… still alive!" Goldmoon's face became radiant.

"Not many. Maybe none now. It would depend on whether or not the draconians followed them into the mountains." Riverwind shrugged. "Still, you are now their ruler"- bitterness crept into his voice-"and I will be husband of Chieftain."

Goldmoon cringed, as though he had struck her. She blinked, then shook her head. "No, Riverwind," she said softly. "I… we've talked-"

"Have we?" he interrupted. "I was thinking about it last night. I've been gone so many years. My thoughts were of you-as a woman. I did not realize-"He swallowed and then drew a deep breath. "I left Goldmoon. I returned to find Chieftain's Daughter."

"What choice did I have?" Goldmoon cried angrily. "My father wasn't well. I had to rule or Loreman would have taken over the tribe. Do you know what's it like-being Chieftain's Daughter? Wondering at every meal if this morsel is the one with the poison? Struggling every day to find the money in the treasury to pay the soldiers so that foreman would have no excuse to take over! And all the time I must act as Chieftain's Daughter, while my father sits and drools and mumbles." Her voice choked with tears.