must return to Silvanesti? And could I be happy, knowing that

I must watch him age and die while I am still in my youth?"

"I asked myself these same questions, Alhana," Tanis said,

thinking with pain of the decision he had reached concerning

Kitiara. "If we deny love that is given to us, if we refuse to give

love because we fear the pain of loss, then our lives will be

empty, our loss greater:"

I wondered, when first we met, why these people follow

you, Tanis Half-Elven," Alhana said softly. "Now I understand.

I will consider your words. Farewell, until your life's journey's

end:"

"Farewell, Alhana;' Tanis answered, taking the hand she

extended to him. He could find nothing more to say, and so

turned and left her.

But he could not help wondering, as he did, that if he was so

damn wise, why was his life in such a mess?

Tanis joined the companions at the edge of the forest. For a

moment they stood there, reluctant to enter the woods of

Silvanesti. Although they knew the evil was gone, the thought f

of traveling for days among the twisted, tortured forest was a

somber one. But they had no choice. Already they felt the sense

of urgency that had driven them this far. Time was sifting

through the hourglass, and they knew they could not let the sands run out, although they had no idea why.

"Come, my brother;' said Raistlin finally. The mage led the way into the woods, the Staff of Magius shedding its pale light as he walked. Caramon followed, with a sigh. One by one the others trailed after. Tanis alone turned to look back. They would not see the moons tonight. The land was covered with a heavy darkness as if it too mourned Lorac's death.

Alhana stood in the doorway to the Tower of the Stars, her body framed by the Tower, which glimmered in the light of

moonrays captured ages ago. Only Alhana's face was visible in the shadows, like the ghost of the silver moon. Tanis caught a glimpse of movement. She raised her hand and there was a brief, clear flash of pure white light-the Starjewel. And then she was gone.

Book 2

The story of the companions' journey to Ice Wall Castle and their defeat of the evil Dragon Highlord, Feal-thas, became legend among the Ice Barbarians who inhabit that desolate land. It is still told by the village cleric on long winter nights when heroic deeds are remembered and songs are sung.

SONG OF THE ICE REAVER

I am the one who brought them back. I am Raggart I am telling you this. Snow upon snow cancels the signals of ice Over the snow the sun bleeds whiteness In cold light forever unbearable. And if I do not tell you this The snow descends on the deeds of heroes And their strength in my singing Lies down in a core of frost rising no more No more as the lost breath crumbles.

Seven they were from the hot lands (I am the one who brought them back) Four swordsmen sworn in the North The elf-woman Laurana The dwarf from the floes of stone The kender small-boned as a hawk. Riding three blades they came to the tunnel To the throat of the only castle.

Down among Thanoi the old guardians Where their swordsmen carved hot air Finding tendon finding bone As the tunnels melted red. Down upon minotaur upon ice bear And the swords whistled again Bright on the corner of madness The tunnel knee-high in arms In claws in unspeakable things As the swordsmen descended Bright steam freezing behind them.

Then to the chambers at the castle heart Where Feal-thas awaited lord of dragons and wolves Armored in white that is nothing That covers the ice as the sun bleeds whiteness. And he called on the wolves the baby-stealers Who suckled on murder in the lairs of ancestors. Around the heroes a circle of knives of craving As the wolves stalked in their master's eye.

And Aran the first to break the circle Hot wind at the throat of Feal-thas Brought down and unraveled In the reel of the hunt perfected. Brian the next when the sword of the wolf lord Sent him seeking the wane lands. All stood frozen in the wheel of razors All stood frozen except for Laurana. Blind in a hot light flashing the crown of the mind Where death melts in a diving sun She takes up the Ice Reaver And over the boil of wolves over the slaughter Bearing a blade of ice bearing darkness She opened the throat of the wolf lord And the wolves fell silent as the head collapsed.

The rest is short in the telling. Destroying the eggs the violent get of the dragons A tunnel of scales and ordure Followed into the terrible larder Followed further followed to treasure. There the orb danced blue danced white Swelled like a heart in its endless beating (They let me hold it I brought them back). Out from the tunnel blood on blood under the ice Bearing their own incredible burden The young knights silent and tattered They came five now only The kender last small pockets bulging. I am Raggart I am telling you this. I am the one who brought them back.

The flight from Ice Hall.

The old dwarf lay dying.

His limbs would no longer support him. His bowels and stomach twisted together like snakes. Waves of nausea broke over him. He could not even raise his head from his bunk. He stared above him at an oil lamp swinging slowly overhead. The lamp's light seemed to be getting dimmer. This is it, thought the dwarf. The end. The darkness is creeping over my eyes ….

He heard a noise near him, a creaking of wooden planks as if someone were very quietly stealing up on him. Feebly, Flint managed to turn his head.

"Who is it?" he croaked.

"Tasslehoff," whispered a solicitous voice. Flint sighed and reached out a gnarled hand. Tas's hand closed over his own.

"Ah, lad. I'm glad you've come in time to say farewell;" said the dwarf weakly. "I'm dying, lad. I'm going to Reorx-'

"What?" asked Tas, leaning closer.

"Reorx;" repeated the dwarf irritably. "I'm going to the arms of Reorx:"

"No, we're not;' said Tas. "We're going to Sancrist. Unless you're mean an inn. I'll ask Sturm. The Reorx Arms. Hmmm-"

"Reorx, the God of the Dwarves, you doorknob!" Flint roared.

"Oh;" said Tas after a moment. "That Reorx:'

"Listen, lad;" Flint said more calmly, determined to leave no hard feelings behind. "I want you to have my helm. The one you brought me in Xak Tsaroth, with the griffon's mane:"

"Do you really?" Tas asked, impressed. "That's awfully nice of you, Flint, but what will you do for a helm?"

"Ah, lad, I won't need a helm where I'm going:'

"You might in Sancrist," Tas said dubiously. "Derek thinks the Dragon Highlords are preparing to launch a full-scaled attack, and I think a helm could come in handy-"

"I'm not talking about Sancrist!" Flint snarled, struggling to sit up. "I won't need a helm because I'm dying!"

"I nearly died once;" Tas said solemnly. Setting a steaming bowl on a table, he settled back comfortably in a chair to relate his story. "It was that time in Tarsis when the dragon knocked the building down on top of me. Elistan said I was nearly a goner. Actually those weren't his exact words, but he said it was only through the inter . . . interces . . . oh well, intersomething-or-other of the gods that I'm here today."

Flint gave a mighty groan and fell back limply on his bunk. "Is it too much to ask;' he said to the lamp swinging above his head, "that I be allowed to die in peace? Not surrounded by kenders!" This last was practically a shriek.

"Oh, come now. You're not dying, you know;' Tas said. "You're only seasick:'

"I'm dying;' the dwarf said stubbornly. "I've been infected with a serious disease and now I'm dying. And on your heads be it. You dragged me onto this confounded boat-"