Margaret Weis - Dragons of Autumn Twilight

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Creatures of legend, the dragons have returned to Krynn. Now, the darkness of war threatens to engulf the land. Then hope appears — a blue crystal staff in the hands of a beautiful bar barian woman. The promise of this hope forces a group of long-time friends into the unlikely roles of heroes: Tanis Half-Elven, their leader, a skilled warrior who detests fighting and is tormented by love for two women; Sturm Brightblade, Knight of Solamnia, driven to restore the honor of the knighthood; Raistlin Majere, the powerful and unsettling magic-user, whose hourglass-shaped eyes conceal dark mysteries; Caramon, Raistlin's twin, a genial giant both loved and feared by his brother; Flint Fireforge, the gruff old dwarven fighter, almost a father to them all; and Tasselhoff Burrfoot, a kender, the nuisance race of Krynn, immune to fear and followed by trouble wherever he goes.

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"Yes. We'll rest." His eyes gleamed brightly.

"Are you all right?"

"Fine," Sturm said absently and paced around the grass, gently stroking and smoothing his moustaches. Tanis looked at him a moment, irresolute, then went back to the others who were just coming over the crest of a small rise.

"We're going to rest here," the half-elf said. Raistlin breathed a sigh of relief and sank down in the wet leaves.

"I'm going to have a look north, see what's moving back on the road to Haven," Tanis added.

"I'll come with you," Riverwind offered.

Tanis nodded and the two left the path, heading for the rock ledge. Tanis glanced at the tall warrior as they walked together. He was beginning to feel comfortable with the stern, serious Plainsman. A deeply private person himself, Riverwind respected the privacy of others and would never think of probing the boundaries Tanis set around his soul. This was as relaxing to the half-elf as a night's unbroken sleep. He knew that his friends-simply because they were his friends and had known him for years-were speculating on his relationship with Kitiara. Why had he chosen to break it off so abruptly five years ago? And why, then, his obvious disappointment when she failed to join them? Riverwind, of course, knew nothing about Kitiara, but Tanis had the feeling that if he did, it would be all the same to the Plainsman, it was Tanis's business, not his.

When they were within sight of the Haven Road, they crawled the last few feet, inching their way along the wet rock until they came to the rim of the ledge. Tanis, looking below and to the east, could see the old picnic paths disappearing around the side of the mountain. Riverwind pointed, and Tanis realized there were creatures moving along the picnic trails! That explained the uncanny hush in the forest. Tanis pressed his lips together grimly. The creatures must be waiting to ambush them. Sturm and his white stag had probably saved their lives. But it wouldn't take the creatures long to find this new trail. Tanis glanced below him and blinked- there was no trail! There was nothing but thick, impenetrable forest. The trail had closed behind them! I must be imagining things, he thought, and he turned his eyes back to Haven Road and the many creatures moving along it. It hadn't taken them long to get organized, he thought. He gazed farther to the north and saw the still, peaceful waters of Crystalmir Lake. Then his glance traveled to the horizon.

He frowned. There was something wrong. He couldn't place it immediately, so he said nothing to Riverwind but stared at the skyline. Storm clouds massed in the north more thickly than ever, long gray fingers raking the land. And reaching up to meet them-that was it! Gripping Riverwind's arm, Tanis stabbed his finger northward. Riverwind looked, squinting, seeing nothing at first. Then he saw it-black smoke drifting into the sky. His thick, heavy brows contracted.

"Campfires," Tanis said.

"Many hundred campfires," Riverwind amended softly. "The fires of war. That is an army encampment."

"So the rumors are confirmed," Sturm said when they returned. "There is an army to the north."

"But what army? Whose? And why? What are they going to attack?" Caramon laughed incredulously. "No one would send an army after this staff." The warrior paused. "Would they?"

"The staff is but a part of this," Raistlin hissed. "Remember the fallen stars!"

"Children's stories!" Flint sniffed. He upended the empty wineskin, shook it, and sighed.

"My stories are not for children," Raistlin said viciously, twisting up from the leaves like a snake. "And you would do well to heed my words, dwarf!"

"There it is! There's the stag!" Sturm said suddenly, his eyes staring straight at a large boulder-or so it seemed to his companions. "It is time to go."

The knight began walking. The others hastily gathered their gear together and hurried after him. As they climbed ever farther up the trail-which seemed to materialize before them as they went-the wind switched and began blowing from the south. It was a warm breeze, carrying with it the fragrance of late-blooming autumn wildflowers. It drove back the storm clouds and just as they came to the cleft between the two halves of the Peak, the sun broke free.

It was well past midday when they stopped to rest for one more brief period before attempting the climb through the narrow gap between the walls of Prayer's Eye Peak through which Sturm said they must go. The stag had led the way, he insisted.

"It'll be suppertime soon," Caramon said. He heaved a gusty sigh, staring at his feet. "I could eat my boots!"

"They're beginning to look good to me, too," Flint said grumpily. "I wish that stag was flesh and blood. It might be useful for something besides getting us lost!"

"Shut up!" Sturm turned on the dwarf in a sudden rage, his fists clenched. Tanis rose quickly, put his hand on the knight's shoulder, holding him back.

Sturm stood glaring at the dwarf, moustaches quivering, then he jerked away from Tanis. "Let's go," he muttered.

As the companions entered the narrow defile, they could see clear blue sky on the other side. The south wind whistled across the steep white walls of the Peak soaring above them. They walked carefully, small stones causing their feet to slip more than once. Fortunately, the way was so narrow that they could easily regain their balance by catching themselves against the steep walls.

After about thirty minutes of walking, they came out on the other side of Prayer's Eye Peak. They halted, staring down into a valley. Lush, grassy meadowland flowed in green waves below them to lap on the shores of a light-green aspen forest far to the south. The storm clouds were behind them, and the sun shone brightly in a clear, azure sky.

For the first time, they found their cloaks too heavy, except for Raistlin who remained huddled in his red, hooded cape. Flint had spent the morning complaining about the rain and now started on the sunshine-it was too bright, glaring into his eyes. It was too hot, beating down on his helm.

"I say we throw the dwarf off the mountain," growled Caramon to Tanis.

Tanis grinned. "He'd rattle all the way down and give away our position."

"Who's down there to hear him?" Caramon said, gesturing toward the valley with his broad hand. "I bet we're the first living beings to set eyes on this valley."

"First living beings," Raistlin breathed. "You are right there, my brother. For you look on Darken Wood."

No one spoke. Riverwind shifted uncomfortably; Goldmoon crept over to stand beside him, staring down into the green trees, her eyes wide. Flint cleared his throat and fell silent, stroking his long beard. Sturm regarded the forest calmly. So did Tasslehoff.

"It doesn't look bad at all," the kender said cheerfully. Sitting cross-legged on the ground, a sheaf of parchment spread out on his knees, he was drawing a map with a bit of charcoal, attempting to trace their way up Prayer's Eye Peak.

"Looks are as deceptive as light-fingered kender," Raistlin whispered harshly.

Tasslehoff frowned, started to retort, then caught Tanis's eye and went back to his drawing. Tanis walked over to Sturm. The knight stood out on a ledge, the south wind blowing back his long hair and whipping his frayed cape about him.

"Sturm, where is the stag? Do you see it now?"

"Yes," Sturm answered. He pointed downward. "It walked across the meadow; I can see its trail in the tall grass. It has gone into the aspens there."

"Gone into Darken Wood," Tanis murmured.

"Who says that is Darken Wood?" Sturm turned to face Tanis.

"Raistlin."

"Bah!"

"He is magi," Tanis said.

"He is crazed," Sturm replied. Then he shrugged. "But stay here rooted on the side of the Peak if you like, Tanis. I will follow the stag-as did Huma-even if it leads me into Darken Wood." Wrapping his cloak around him, Sturm climbed down the ledge and began to walk along a winding trail that led down the mountainside.

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