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. Beneath the dust, he could
discern dark splotches on the fabric-as though it had, long
ago, been stained with blood. In his concern for his uncle,
Palin thought little of it. Raistlin sank down into the chair,
choking, coughing into a soft, white cloth that Palin drew
from his own robes and handed to him. Then, leaning the
staff carefully against the wall, the young man knelt down
beside his uncle.
"Is there something I can do? Something I can get for
you? That herbal mixture you drank." His glance went to
the jars of herbs on a shelf. "If you tell me how to fix it-"
Raistlin shook his head. "In time . . ." he whispered as
the spasm eased. "In time, Palin." He smiled wearily, his
hand reaching out to rest on the young man's head. "In time.
I will teach you that . . . and so much more! How they have
wasted your talent! What did they tell you, young one? Why
did they bring you here?"
Palin bowed his head. The touch of those slender fingers
excited him, yet he caught himself cringing, squirming
beneath their burning caress. "I came- They said . . . you
would try ... to take . . ." He swallowed, unable to
continued.
"Ah, yes. Of course. That is what those idiots would think. I
would take your body as Fistandantilus tried to take mine. What
fools! As if I would deprive the world of this young mind, of this
power. The two of us ... There will be two of us, now. I make you
my apprentice, Palin
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