Goldmoon’s staff won’t help Raistlin, the cost of his magic

Caramon busied himself around his brother, placing his own heavy cloak over his shoulders. Raistlin’s body was wracked by coughing spasms, and blood trickled from his mouth.
…
“The staff will not heal me, Tanis,” he whispered. “Do not waste it on me. If it is a blessed artifact … its sacred power is limited. My body was my sacrifice … for my magic. This damage is permanent. Nothing can help.…” His voice died, his eyes closed.

Excerpt From Dragons of Autumn Twilight, pg 111
Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman