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"Don't, please, don't," Amberyl said, crawling nearer to
the mage.
"Look at me, lady!" Raistlin gasped, his laughter catching
in his throat, setting him to coughing. Grinning at her
mirthlessly, he gestured outside. "You had best wait for my
brother," he said. "Caramon will be back soon... ."
"No, he won't," Amberyl said softly, creeping closer
still to Raistlin. "Your brother will not be back before
morning."
Raistlin's lips parted. His eyes - filled with a sudden
hunger - devoured Amberyl's face. "Morning," he repeated.
"Morning," she said.
Reaching up a trembling hand, Raistlin brushed back
the beautiful hair from her delicate face. "The fire will be
out long before morning."
"Yes," said Amberyl softly, blushing, resting her cheek
against the mage's hand. "It - it's already growing cold in
here. We will have to do something to keep warm ... or we
will perish. . . ."
Raistlin drew his hand over her smooth skin, his finger
touching her soft lips. Her eyes closed, she leaned toward
him. His hand moved to touch her long eyelashes, as fine as
elven lace. Her body pressed close to his. He could feel her
shivering. Putting his arm around her, he drew her close
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