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.
It grew quickly, the magic rope, and leaped away from
the young mage's hands, directed and sped upon its way by
will and spell. Out across the black surface of the water it
flew, with the grace of a hawk rising, with the certainty of
one of Tanis's well-drawn arrows speeding to its mark.
Sturm leaped into the lake, cutting through the icy
water with powerful strokes. By the time he reached
Caramon, the shining line had passed well over their heads,
flying toward the arch and Tas's outstretched hand. On the
shore Flint shouted, his voice rising high in triumph, ending
on an oddly broken note, a cry of warning.
Tigo was halfway across the bridge, the hook that passed
for a hand glittering balefully in the fading light.
Tas stepped in front of Keli and wound the shimmering
rope around the boy's hands. "We'll go together. It'll hold, I
swear it. Just slide right down. It won't burn your hands -
you can hardly feel it."
Keli eyed the water, then Tigo advancing slowly across
the arch. "Tas, it's not a rope - it's LIGHT AND AIR! It can't
hold us!"
"Oh, sure it will. It's Raistlin's magic." Tas cocked his
head as though he'd had a sudden thought. "You're worrying
again, are you?"
"Worrying?" Keli gasped
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