M. weis, t. hickman – dragonlance: 3. dragons of spring dawning

DragonLance Chronicles Volume 3
Dragons of Spring Dawning
Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman

Kitiara, of all the days these days are locked in dark and waiting, in regret. The clouds obscure the city as I write this, delaying thought and sunlight, as the streets hang between day and darkness. I have waited past all decision, past the heart of shadows to tell you this.
In absences you grew more beautiful, more poisonous. You were an attar of orchids in the stemming night, where passion, like a shark having found a bloodstream murders other senses, only taste preserving, buckling into itself, finding the blood its own, a small wound first, but as the shark unravels the belly tatters in the long throat’s tunnel. And knowing this, the night still seems a richness, a gauntlet of desires ending in peace, I would still be part of these allurements, and to my arms I would take in the darkness, blessed and renamed by pleasure;
But the light,
The light, my Kitiara, when the sun spangles the rain-gorged sidewalks and the oil from doused lamps rises in the sunstruck water, splintering the light to rainbows! I arise, and though the storm resettles on the city, I think of Sturm, Laurana, and the others, but Sturm the foremost, who can see the sun straight through the fog and cloudrack. How could I abandon them?
And so into the shadow, and not your shadow but the eager grayness expecting light, I ride the storm away.

Tanis Half-Elven


“Why, look, Berem. Here’s a path… how strange. All the times we’ve been hunting in these woods and we’ve never seen it.”
“It’s not so strange. The fire burned off some of the brush, that’s all. Probably just an animal trail.”
“Let’s follow it. If it is an animal trail, maybe we’ll find a deer. We’ve been hunting all day with nothing to show for it. I hate to go home empty-handed.”

/> Without waiting for my reply, she turns onto the trail. Shrugging, I follow her. It is pleasant being outdoors today – the first warm day after the bitter chill of winter. The sun is warm on my neck and shoulders. Walking through the fire-ravaged woods is easy. No vines to snag you. No brush to tear at your clothing. Lightning, probably that thunderstorm which struck late last fall.
But we walk for a long time and finally I begin to grow weary. She is wrong-this is no animal trail. It is a man-made path and an old one at that. We’re not likely to find any game. Just the same as it’s been all day. The fire, then the hard winter. The animals dead or gone. There’ll be no fresh meat tonight.
More walking. The sun is high in the sky. I’m tired, hungry. There’s been no sign of any living creature.
“Let’s turn back, sister. There’s nothing here…”
She stops, sighing. She is hot and tired and discouraged, I can tell. And too thin. She works too hard; doing women’s work and men’s as well. Out hunting when she should be home, receiving the pledges of suitors. She’s pretty, I think. People say we look alike, but I know they are wrong. It is only that we are so close – closer than other brothers and their sisters. But we’ve had to be close. Our life has been so hard…
“I suppose you’re right, Berem. I’ve seen no sign… Wait, brother… Look ahead. What’s that?”
I see a bright and shining glitter, a myriad of colors dancing in the sunlight-as if all the jewels on Krynn were heaped together in a basket.
Her eyes widen. “Perhaps it’s the gates of the rainbow!”

Ha! Stupid girlish notion. I laugh, but I find myself running forward. It is hard to catch up with her.

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