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. He saw a
young man, dressed in robes whose color was indeterminate, now
white, now red, now darkening. . . .
The arm Raistlin held jerked spasmodically within the
archmage's grasp.
He can feel my fear, Palin realized, trying to control the
tremors that shook his body.
Is it fear? the golden eyes asked. Is it fear? Or exultation?
Palin saw the staff he held in his hand reflected in those eyes. He
stood within the pool of its bright light. The longer he held the
staff, the more he could sense the magic within it-and within
himself. The golden eyes shifted in their gaze slightly, and Palin
followed them. He saw the black-bound spellbooks standing upon
the shelf. He felt once again the thrill he had experienced upon
entering the laboratory, and he licked his dry, parched lips like a
man who has been wandering long in a vast desert and who has, at
last, found the cool water to ease his burning thirst. Looking back
at Raistlin, he saw himself as in a mirror, standing before the
archmage dressed in black robes.
"What-what are your plans?" Palin asked hoarsely.
"Very simple. As I said, I had long years to consider my
mistake. My ambition was too great. I dared become a god-
something mortals are not meant to do-as I was painfully
reminded every morning when the Dark Queen's talon ripped my
flesh."
Palin saw the thin lip curl for a moment and the golden eyes
glint. The slender hand clenched in anger and remembered agony,
its grip tightening painfully around the young man's arm
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