Returning to one of their best-loved fantasy series, Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman bring alive a sweeping tale of intrigue and magic. It is twenty years since the once-magical land of Thimhallan was shattered by the forging of the Darksword. The survivors of that catastrophe now live on Earth, bereft of magic and hope, forbidden to return home. Only Joram remains behind on the world ravaged by his Darksword.  Although the magic weapon has been destroyed--and with it, Joram's power--rumors have risen that Joram has forged a second Darksword. Now, as a merciless alien race threatens Earth with annihilation, Earth's desperate leaders look to Joram as their only hope.  But even as his old friend Saryon begins the perilous journey to seek his aid, the embittered Joram has his own plans for the weapon. And Joram is not the only one.  Soon a new menace looms, foreshadowing betrayal, enslavement, and death to humans and Thimhallans alike. years since the once-magical land of Thimhallan was shattered by the forging of the Darksword. The survivors of that catastrophe now live on Earth, bereft of magic and hope, forbidden to return home. Only Joram remains behind on the world ravaged by his Darksword. Although the magic weapon has been destroyed--and with it, Joram's power--rumors have risen that Joram has forged a second Darksword. Now, as a merciless alien race threatens Earth with annihilation, Earth's desperate leaders look to Joram as their only hope. But even as his old friend Saryon begins the perilous journey to seek his aid, the embittered Joram has his own plans for the weapon. And Joram is not the only one. Soon a new menace looms, foreshadowing betrayal, enslavement, and death to humans and Thimhallans alike. Returning to one of their best-loved fantasy series, Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman bring alive a sweeping tale of intrigue It is twenty years since the once-magical land of Thimhallan was shattered by the forging of the Darksword. The survivors of that catastrophe now live on Earth, bereft of magic and hope, forbidden to return home. Only Joram remains behind on the world ravaged by his Darksword. Although the magic weapon has been destroyed--and with it, Joram's power--rumors have risen that Joram has forged a second Darksword. Now, as a merciless alien race threatens Earth with annihilation, Earth's desperate leaders look to Joram as their only hope. But even as his old friend Saryon begins the perilous journey to seek his aid, the embittered Joram has his own plans for the weapon. And Joram is not the only one. Soon a new menace looms, foreshadowing betrayal, enslavement, and death to humans and Thimhallans alike. Returning to one of their best-loved fantasy series, Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman bring alive a sweeping tale of intrigue and magic. Finally, a child may be born to the rarest of all the Mysteries, the Mystery of Life.  The thaumaturgist, or catalyst, is the dealer in magic, though he does not possess it in great measure himself.  It is the catalyst, as his name implies, who takes the Life from the earth and the air; from fire and water, and, by assimilating it within his own body, is able to enhance it and transfer it to the magi who can use it. --Forging the Darksword Saryon, now somewhere in his sixties or seventies, as reckoned by Earth time, lived very quietly in a small flat in Oxford, England.  He was uncertain of the year of his birth in Thimhallan, and thus I, who write this story out for him, cannot provide his exact age.  Saryon never did adapt well to the concept of Earth time relative to Thimhallan time.  History has meaning only to those who are its products and time is but a means of measuring history, whether it be the history of the past moment or the history of the past billion moments.  For Saryon, as for so many of those who came to Earth from the once-magical land of Thimhallan, time began in another realm--a beautiful, wondrous, fragile bubble of a realm.  Time ended when that bubble burst, when Joram pricked it with the Darksword. Saryon had no need for measuring time anyway.  The catalyst (though no longer required in this world, that is how he always termed himself) had no appointments, kept no calendar, rarely watched the evening news, met no one for lunch.  I was his amanuensis, or so he was pleased to call me. I preferred the less formal term of secretary.  I was sent to Saryon by command of Prince Garald. I had been a servant in the Prince's household and was supposed to have been Saryon's servant, too, but this he would not allow.  The only small tasks I was able to perform for him were those I could sneak in before he was aware of it or those which I wrested from him by main force. I would have been a catalyst myself, had our people not been banished from Thimhallan.  I had very little magic in me when I left that world as a child, and none at all now after living for twenty years in the world of the mundane. But I do have a gift