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. A residue of Raistlin's magic? The boy thought so.
None sat waking now in night's darkest hour but Keli
and Tas, the half-elf Tanis, and the dwarf Flint. The young
mage had been the first asleep. Keli knew nothing of magic
or its tolls, but it was clear to him that Raistlin's light-
weaving had left him drained. It seemed to Keli that the thin
young man was hardly strong enough to exert such effort
often. Or, the boy thought as he stole a covert glance at the
sleeping mage, maybe he is. Even in exhaustion something
of power and strength had lighted the mage's eyes.
The mage's brother was Caramon, warrior big, with
mischief dancing in his brown eyes, a kind of magic of his
own. He slept so soon after his brother that the difference
could hardly be measured. His snoring was like low
thunder.
"Asleep between one bite of rabbit and the next," Flint
had growled. "We could be witnessing the dawn of a new
age of miracles." Keli had wanted to laugh at that, but he
didn't. The old dwarf bore a forbidding look in his eyes,
scowled easily and grumbled often. Here was one who
would need a wide berth.
For a time it looked as though Sturm would stay awake
long enough to make good his claim on the first watch of
the night
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