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His throat was raw from coughing.
"I'm taking you out of here," his brother announced firmly.
Raistlin felt strong arms slip under his body. He smelled the
familiar smell of sweat and leather, heard the familar sound of
armor creak and broadsword clank.
"No!" Raistlin pushed against his brother's massive chest with a
frail, fragile hand. "Leave me, Caramon! My tests are not
complete! Leave me!" His voice was an inaudible croak, then he
gagged violently.
Caramon lifted him easily, cradled him in his arms. "Nothing is
worth this. Rest easy, Raist." The big man choked. As they walked
under a flickering torch, Raistlin could see tears on his brothers
cheeks. He made one last effort.
"They won't allow us to go, Caramon!" He raised his head,
gasping for breath. "You're only putting yourself in danger!"
"Let them come," Caramon said grimly, walking with firm
steps down the dimly lit corridor.
Raistlin sank back, helpless, his head resting on Caramon's
shoulder. He felt comforted by his brother's strength, though he
cursed him inwardly.
YOU FOOL! Raistlin closed his eyes wearily. YOU GREAT,
STUBBORN FOOL! NOW WE'LL BOTH DIE. AND, OF
COURSE, YOU WILL DIE PROTECTING ME. EVEN IN DEATH
I'LL BE INDEBTED TO YOU!
"Ah . . ."
Raistlin heard and felt the sharp intake of breath into his
brother's body. Caramon's walk had slowed. Raistlin raised his
head and peered ahead.
"A wraith," he breathed
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