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. The
words it whispered were of welcome, of invitation. His
body trembled with the ecstasy of the magic and, opening
his eyes, Palin saw his exultation reflected in the dark elf's
glittering gaze.
"Now you taste the power!" Dalamar whispered. "Go
forward, Palin, go forward."
Smiling to himself, cocooned in the warmth of his euphoria,
Palin climbed the stairs rapidly, all fear forgotten. For him, the
door would open. He had no doubts. Why or by whose hand, he
did not speculate. It did not matter. Finally, he would be inside the
ancient laboratory where some of the greatest magic upon Krynn
had been performed. He would see the spellbooks of the legendary
Fistandantilus, the spellbooks of his uncle. He would see the great
and terrible Portal that led from this world into the Abyss. And he
would see the famed Staff of Magius. . . .
Palin had long dreamed of his uncle's staff. Of all Raistlin's
arcane treasures-this intrigued Palin most. Perhaps because he
had seen it portrayed so often in paintings or because it always
figured prominently in legend and song. Palin even owned one
such painting of Raistlin in his black robes, the Staff of Magius in
his hand, battling the Queen of Darkness. If my uncle had lived to
teach me, and I had been worthy of him, perhaps he might have
given me the staff, Palin thought wistfully every time he looked at
the painting of the wooden staff with its golden dragon claw
clutching a shining, faceted, crystal ball
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