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. He looked around hurriedly
to see if either his father Dalamar had noticed. Neither had,
both being engaged in a quiet discussion near the window
overlooking the city of Palanthas.
"You have never been back to the laboratory since?"
Caramon was asking, his voice low.
Dalamar shook his head. He had removed the hood of
his robes, his long, silky hair brushed his shoulders. "I went
back the week you left," he replied, "to make certain all was
in order. And then I sealed it shut."
"So everything is still there," Caramon murmured. Palin
saw his father's shrewd gaze turn to the dark elf, who was
staring out the window, his face cold and expressionless. "It
must contain objects that would grant a tremendous power
to a wizard, or so I would guess. What is in there?"
Almost holding his breath, Palin rose from his chair and
crept silently across the beautiful, luxurious carpet to hear
the dark elf's answer.
"The spellbooks of Fistandantilus, Raistlin's own
spellbooks, his notes on herb lore and, of course, the Staff
of Magius-"
"HIS staff?" Palin said suddenly.
Both men turned to look at the young man, Cara-mon's
face grave, Dalamar appearing faintly amused.
"You told me my uncle's staff was lost!" Palin said to his
father accusingly.
"And so it is, young one," Dalamar answered. "The spell I put
upon that chamber is such that even the rats do not come anywhere
near it. None may enter on pain of death
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