Jean Rabe - The Eve of the Maelstrom

The glaive Dhamon Grimwulf clutched was simple in design yet starkly beautiful, an axe-like blade affixed to a long, polished wooden haft. The edge, curved gently like a smile, gleamed silver in the light that spilled through the window. The weapon was drawn back, steadied. Dhamons eyes were steady, too, fixed on Goldmoons.

My faith will protect me, Goldmoon whispered as she stepped back, trying to put some distance between herself and the weapon. A few moments would buy time to convince Dhamon this was wrong. Goldmoons fingers touched the medallion about her neck, a symbol of her departed goddess Mishakal, and of her undying faith in the goddess.

Dhamon, you can fight this. Fight the dragon....

There were other voices in the chamber beside hersthat of the dwarf, Jasper, her favored student of many years, and those of Feril, Blister, and Rig. Shouted words, pleading, angry, incredulous words all aimed at Dhamon Grimwulf, the tall man with wheat-blonde hair and piercing eyes. They were meant to stop the glaive, to stop him. But the words ere thrust aside by the red dragon who controlled Dhamon. Against his will, Dhamon listened to the dragon voice inside his head and advanced on the healer.

Goldmoon, too, thrust all the words aside, and concentrated. My faith will protect me. My faith... no!

Dhamon swung the blade down, striking Jasper, who had suddenly leapt in front of him trying to save Goldmoon. Before the others could react, the weapon was pulled back, this time gleaming red with the dwarfs blood.

Jasper, Goldmoon whispered.

The blade poised for the most fleeting of moments. It was suspended for a heartbeat, no more, before continuing on a lethal path toward the famed healer and Hero of the Lance.

My faith will protect me, Goldmoon repeated in a slightly stronger voice. Then she felt the coolness of the metal as it touched her; surprisingly she felt no pain. The gleam of the blade filled her vision. Then she saw nothing. Dhamon and the voices of her friends were gone, as her life was gone.

She slipped from Krynn.

A welcoming blackness swallowed Goldmoon, tactile like velvet and somehow comforting. This was death, she knew, and she was not afraid of death. She had never been afraid of it. Death had claimed her husband and one of her daughters years before, had claimed cherished friendsTanis, Tasslehoff, Flint. Jasper too? In death, she expected to greet them all again.

The darkness, like a gentle vise, held her briefly, then receded. As the darkness changed to a charcoal gray, it lessened its grip, but it did not release her. Then the space around her lightened further, until her surroundings became almost white, the shade of pale smoke. No floor to stand on, no walls, only a limitless mist. She hovered in its soft embrace, seemingly alone. But she knew he must be here with her.

Riverwind. She spoke the word, though her lips didnt move. She spoke the word with her mind and heard it clearly, as she also heard the response.

Beloved. He appeared before her as if by magic, young and strong, looking as he had on the day shed first glimpsed him. His skin was tan, his eyes dark and full, his arms muscular and now wrapped around her. His long black hair fluttered in an intangible breeze.

Riverwind... husband, Ive missed you so. Goldmoon clung tightly to him and inhaled his scent. Memories flooded her mind: his courtship of her under the disapproving gaze of her father; the exhilarating danger they had experienced together during the War of the Lance; the time they had spent apart; and, above all, his death far from her side. Even after Riverwind had been killed helping the kender against Malystryx the Red, she had sensed that he was with her, part of her.

Ive missed you, too, Riverwind answered. Ive not been complete without you.

To be together again, she said wistfully. Complete. For-ever.

Forever. He stared at her. She looked as she had decades ago, full of hope and life, skin shining, silver-gold hair festooned with the feathers and beads of the Que-shu tribe. Forever, yes. But forever must wait. Goldmoon, you cant stay here. You must go back.

Go back? To what? Krynn? The Citadel of Light? I dont understand.

It isnt your time to die. You have to go back. Feril... the Kagonesti... she can heal you.

Not my time to die?

No. Not yet. He shook his head. At least not for a while, love. Forever will have to wait a while longer.

I think not, husband.

Goldmoon...

Im more than eighty years old. Ive walked more than enough years on Krynn. Few people are fortunate to live as long. And Ive had enough of living.

He ran a finger across her cheek, his spirit form as vibrant and warm as it had been in life. But Krynn hasnt had enough of you, beloved. Not just yet, anyway.

And who or what force decides this? I am dead, River-wind. Am I not?

Dead? Yes. Still... its not easy to explain, he began. There is still time, if you hurry. Feril can He tried to say more, but she cut him off.

I will admit I hadnt expected to die this way. I didnt think Dhamon would kill me, could bring himself to kill me. I thought he was strong enough to resist the beast that possesses him.

Malystryx.

Goldmoon nodded. She controls him through a scale on his leg. I was so certain he could overcome that. I thought he was the one, the man who could lead the fight against the overlords. I myself chose him, Riverwind, chose him months upon months ago as he kneeled outside the Last Heroes Tomb. I looked into his heart. I erred....

Things dont always turn out the way we expect, Riverwind replied.

No.

The others need your help.

They can continue the cause without me. Palin, Rig, Blister, Feril...

They need you. Riverwinds voice was firm. There are things youve yet to accomplish. The dragons...

How do you know this? Are the gods not truly gone? Do they speak to you? Are they...

You werent supposed to die this day. Thats all I know. And thats all you are permitted to know right now. Another was so fated.

Another was to die? Not me?

Riverwind drew his lips into a thin line. With a gesture of his hand the mists parted. They were hovering above the chamber in the Citadel of Lightghostlike, for no one saw them there. The floor below was covered with bloodGoldmoons, Jaspers, Rigs. The dwarf was seriously wounded, barely clinging to life, but he was clinging to Goldmoons body, sobbing, his eyes wide with disbelief.

I will miss them all, she whispered, her fingers reaching out toward the dwarf.

There is still time. Return to them, beloved. Let the Kagonesti aid you. Then help Jasper. Hurry.

Let Feril help Jasper.

Riverwind and Goldmoon could faintly discern words swirling in the airgrieving words over Goldmoon and Jasper, venomous words about Dhamon, words of shock that something like this could have happened, words demanding revenge.

It wasnt Dhamons fault, Goldmoon said. They have to understand that. Theyll eventually realize that.

One of them was to die, Riverwind repeated. Not you. Not yet. Dhamon wasnt meant to kill you.

It wasnt Dhamons fault. The dragon... the scale on his leg... who was supposed to die instead of me?

Riverwind shook his head.

Who? she insisted.

I cant tell you. All I can tell you is that you must go back. Riverwinds voice was firm, tinged with sadness. Well be together again, I promise. It will be soon enough. And you know Ill always be with you.

In the very air I breathe.

Yes.

No. That isnt enough. Goldmoon tilted her head upward, drifted toward the ceiling, through the domed roof. Riverwind followed her, his arguments lost amid the heated words still audible from the chamber below. Again they were surrounded by the pale mist. Im not going back, husband. Only forwardto wherever spirits are destined to go. To see Tanis, Tasslehoff, dear Flintwherever they are. My daughter Brightdawn. My mother. Perhaps finally to reconcile with my father. It is long past my time to join them all. And to join you.