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. If that's what you want ...." Caramon
hesitated, looking at his brother with such a dumb-founded
expression on his face that Amberyl started to laugh, only it
came out in a sob. Hiding her face in her scarf, she tried to
check her tears.
"Leave us!" Raistlin ordered.
"Sure!" Amberyl heard Caramon backing out the door.
"Just . . . just remember, you're not strong, Raistlin . . . ."
The door closed gently.
"I - I'm sorry," Amberyl faltered, raising her face from
the scarf, using the hem to dry her eyes. "I didn't mean to
cry. I lost control. It - it won't happen again."
Raistlin did not answer her. Comfortably settled in a
battered old chair, the mage sat calmly staring at Amberyl,
his frail hands clutching a mug of tea that had long ago
gone cold. Behind him, near at hand, his staff leaned against
the wall. "Remove the scarf," he said finally, after a long
silence.
Swallowing her tears, Amberyl slowly reached up and
unwound the scarf from her face. The expression in the
golden eyes did not change; it was cold and smooth as
glass. Amberyl discovered, looking into those eyes, that she
could see herself reflected there. She wouldn't be able to
enter again, not as she had on the stairs
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