The echo of outrage and impotent fury might be mistaken for a brush of memory, his or hers, if Need hadn't not-quite-seen the oily black thing before. Try to catch the thought, however, and it's gone like a nightmare come morning.

What Raistlin feels is a rush of energy that catches him like a kick in the chest. Except it doesn't hurt; the opposite, in fact. For the first time since his Test, his lungs are clear. No fever burns through him. Despair and horror still beat at him, but the sheer relief of the strength flowing through him overwhelm them. The shock of it makes him forget to mindspeak.

"Are you doing this?"