The warlock wished it were possible for him to just forget Plool, but he was not that sort of person . . . and the underdwellers certainly had to be aware of that.
His inquisitor rose and indicated he should follow suit. Rising stiffly, the wary mage followed the Quel to the tunnel mouth. The other creature, taller and definitely a male, waited until the two had passed before joining. The male moved with some stiffness, as if working with muscles long unused. The Quel were careful to keep him sandwiched in between, he noted. A brief touch with his mind also indicated that they were doing what they could to stifle his magical abilities, but their strength was not enough to completely disable him. His mind already shielded so that the gemstone he still had to carry would not betray him, Cabe pondered his possible options. Down here, his sorcery appeared to work, but what would happen if he tried to teleport to the surface? Could he do it safely? More to the point, did he have the concentration and strength to even perform the spell? He doubted it. Still, he was fairly certain he would be able to defend himself when it came time for the Quel to turn upon him.
The warlock wondered what he would do about Plool when that happened.
As they walked, Cabe, with growing curiosity, carefully studied the tunnel. It was a claustrophobic thing, not at all like the larger passages he recalled from his earlier encounters. There was barely room enough for one of the diggers to pass. More important, after the first few steps, the only sources of illumination became the occasional crystal embedded in the walls. They were of the same type as those in the vast tunnels, but so scattered and so few, it was as if they had been added only recently and with great haste.
This is a new tunnel. Very new. “Where are we going?”
He received no response from his companions. The more he thought about it, the more they seemed to be growing increasingly anxious. The warlock did not find that comforting. Anything that worried the Quel surely had to be fearsome.
There was only one thing he could think of that would put such uneasiness into the minds of his captors. One creature.
Only the Crystal Dragon.
They wouldn’t! That would be suicidal!
Unfortunately, he could think of no other explanation. Cabe had intended on seeking out the lord of Legar, but now that he was possibly on his way to do just that, the idea had turned sour. Who was to say that the Crystal Dragon might not find his intrusion just as irritating as that of the wolf raiders? What had he been thinking? One could not just walk up and ask to see the Dragon King!
But that was what the Quel intended him to do. He knew that the moment they came to the end of the tunnel. Before him was a vast cavern that glittered so great that he had to shield his eyes for several seconds before they finally became accustomed to the brilliance. Gemlike stalactites and stalagmites, looking much like the jagged teeth of some great beast, dotted the cavern. The faceted walls reflected themselves again and again and again, an infinity of cold, gleaming beauty. Cabe began to sweat heavily, but not because of fear. The heat in the cavern was ghastly and when he stared at the floor, which was also of crystal, he knew why. Some subterranean source of heat buried deep beneath was what turned the chamber into an oven. It even gave the floor a reddish tinge. It was not enough to make travel across impossible, but the warlock did not intend to stand on any one spot too long.
What he saw beyond the chamber made him forget the heat. Carved into the far wall was a temple that, in many ways, resembled the Manor, a place that Cabe wished he had never left. Columns rose high, at least two stories. There were three doorways. Symbols that the warlock did not recognize formed an arc over each of them. Cabe knew that the work was very, very old, but it was still in immaculate condition. A sense of ancient power radiated from the temple.
He was on the threshold of the Dragon King’s inner sanctum.
The Quel in front of him shifted to the side. Journey . . . the crystal lord . . . (fear) . . . seeking an audience . . . statement!
So this was to be his role. They wanted him to do what they could not, namely face the Dragon King and seek his aid. The warlock found himself amused. He was expected to go where they refused to tread and seek aid on their behalf. It almost made him laugh aloud. Their capture of him must have been a lucky but desperate venture. It said something for their ability to plot under dire circumstances but little for their bravery.
The male took hold of his shoulders and shook him. New images danced in Cabe Bedlam’s head. Audience . . . the crystal lord in his sanctum . . . dispersing the floating death . . . driving the black shells back into the sea . . . statement!/question?
It took him time to decipher the last. The message was evidently a list of requests the Quel had for the Crystal Dragon, requests that they wanted Cabe to make. From the way the male gripped him, he knew that even the very thought of asking the drake lord for such aid unnerved the subterraneans. They deeply feared the might of the Crystal Dragon . . . and Cabe could hardly blame them for that.
He was prodded from behind. The Quel would not join him on this last part of the trek. They would trust that their captive would make the warlock do what they wanted. It had probably never occurred to them that Cabe might have gone even without a threat.
Slowly he entered the gleaming chamber. What wonders the underground recesses of Legar held. It was amazing that the surface of the place did not collapse, considering how extensive the world beneath was. Of course, more than a little of it had been carved by intelligent hands, not the forces of nature. Those hands had made quite certain that their efforts would not end up buried in rubble.
Cabe still found it amazing, nonetheless.
The temperature was steady, which was fortunate. He still found he had to loosen the top of his robe. It was bad if not worse than being on the surface during noontime.
The walk across passed without incident, although at one point the Quel hooted something. He turned, but even holding the gem, he could not understand what they wanted. They did not appear to want him to return, so Cabe finally turned back to the glistening temple and continued on.
It was not until he stood before the carved structure that he discovered a problem. While there were indentations representing windows and doorways, none of them were real entrances. As far as he could see, the temple was nothing more than a vast relief.
There must be something! He stared at his reflection, distorted by the multifaceted surface, and thought. The Quel would not have sent him to this place if they had not believed it to be a way to the Crystal Dragon. Yet if they were too frightened to come this far, then perhaps none of their kind had ever journeyed close enough to see that this was no more than some sculptor’s masterpiece. It hardly seemed possible, but . . .
“Who seeks passage?”
The voice, piercing, echoed all around him. Cabe stepped back from the temple and as he did an astonishing thing happened, for his distorted reflection, instead of copying his movements, stepped forward. Not only did it step forward, but it left the confines of the wall and continued toward him.
“Who seeks passage?” This time, it was definitely his macabre reflection that spoke.
“I do,” Cabe responded, finally able to find his own voice.
Although the crystal golem-the warlock could find no better term for what faced him-looked his way, the eyes did not exactly fix on him. Rather, they appeared focused behind him, perhaps on the Quel. “You alone seek passage?”
“I alone seek passage, yes. I would speak with the Crystal Dragon.”
The guardian was silent. It was eerie to stare at himself, especially a self who was twisted and jagged. Cabe reached up to rub his chin in thought, a habit he had long had, and watched bemused as the reflection followed the same course. Cabe wondered what the creature would do if he started to dance.
An eternity passed before the golem finally said, “You may pass through.”
Cabe glanced beyond the golem. He saw no doorway. “Where do I go?”
The guardian looked
at him with vacant eyes. “Follow.”
He began walking backward.
After a moment’s hesitation, the warlock obeyed. The crystal creature had no trouble walking backward, but the sight made Cabe stumble twice. He kept waiting for a passage to open in the temple wall, but nothing changed. As the guardian reached the wall, Cabe braced himself for the collision.
The golem melted into the crystal.
The warlock froze, uncertain as to what to do now. He stared at his reflection. Almost it seemed to be waiting for him.
Its mouth opened. “Follow.”
“Follow?”
“Follow yourself if you would enter,” was the only explanation he received.
He thought he understood, but that made it no easier. Nodding, Cabe focused on his reflection, tensed, and walked forward.
He closed his eyes just before he would have hit the wall and so he was never exactly sure what happened next. Instead of a harsh, very solid wall, the anxious mage walked into a substance that reminded him of syrup. Gritting his teeth, he continued through it. The voice of the guardian urged him on now and then. Despite being surrounded by the odd substance, the warlock had no difficulty breathing. That in no way meant that the crossing was easy on him. He was reminded of Gwen, who had been trapped in an amber prison by his father, Azran, and left there for nearly two hundred years. The thought of being so imprisoned sent a chill down his spine.
When his hand broke through to empty space, Cabe sighed in relief.
Only when he was free did he dare open his eyes. He did not look around but rather spun back and faced the wall through which he had passed. The warlock stared at it. To the eye, it was as it should have been, a crystal-encrusted barrier of rock. There was no passage and when he touched it, he felt only what one would expect to feel. Rock.
“If you are finished, huuuman . . .”
A drake warrior stood waiting for him in the new chamber, a drake warrior like none he had ever seen. Thin, glittering, his skin armor was an array of multifaceted jewels, not all of them the same color. There were deep greens, sunlit golds, ocean blues, and so much more. When the drake moved, it was a graceful movement, almost as if the creature were a dancer, not a fighter.
“Your Majesty?”
The flat, half-seen reptilian visage broke into a thin-lipped smile. “I will take you to him.”
Cabe reddened slightly. He should not have assumed. It might be a mark against him now. The Dragon King might take umbrage at being mistaken for one of his mere subjects.
His new guide led him along a well-worn path that, like all else here, spoke of incredible age. Most everything down here had been built long before the Dragon Kings; Cabe was certain of that. He wondered if the Quel had built it. Possibly. Then again, they, too, might have come across it and decided to simply move in. Some additions looked more recent than others. Differences in style could be seen here and there. Everything gleamed, but fortunately not with too great an intensity.
They passed only two other drakes, both warriors like the first. He wondered how small the clan was. Some drake clans were larger than others. The Ice Dragon had sacrificed the last of his people for his master spell and several other clans had been more or less decimated over the past couple decades by their struggles with each other and the humans, but some, like Green and Blue, were actually increasing in number for the first time in generations. Cabe doubted that this particular clan was large. Legar could not support so many. Their principal source of food would have to come from the sea, for life was not abundant enough here. True, there were things that grew well under the surface, but these were dragons he was speaking of, which meant they needed meat of some sort.
Their journey ended before the mouth of another tunnel. Two warriors flanked each side of the mouth. Within, Cabe could make out only darkness.
His guide turned to him. “He awaits within, Cabe Bedlam.”
“You know who I am.”
“He knew. I simply obey.” With that, the drake abruptly turned from him and walked away.
One of the guards used a lance to indicate that he should enter. Putting on a mask of resolve, the warlock stalked past the sentries and stepped into the darkness before hesitation got the better of him. It was not, he was grateful to see, like crossing through the wall. Instead, the moment he was through the entranceway, the darkness was burned away by a brilliant illumination. Cabe blinked, found himself blinded again.
“There isss an object in front of you, Cabe Bedlam. Pick it up. Itsss purposssse will become apparent to you.”
The blinded warlock reached down, then recalled that he was still holding the Quel device. He started to pocket it, but a warning hiss made him halt.
“You have no more need of that. Drop it.”
Cabe did . . . and a second later heard a crackling sound, as if something were melting. He did not dare try to look, but rather searched for the vague shape of the object the voice had mentioned. His hands came upon a curved item that upon very close inspection proved to be a visor of sorts. It was designed to be worn over the ears like a pair of the glasses that were now fairly common among humans. Gingerly he put it on, blinked a few times, and let his eyes complete the task of adjusting.
Even with the visor on, the chamber still gleamed. Now, at least, he could see it . . . and also its lone inhabitant.
“Welcome to my domain, Massster Bedlam.”
He knew of the Crystal Dragon, knew what he looked like from the visions, but still Cabe was not completely prepared for the leviathan.
The lord of Legar was possibly the largest of the Dragon Kings he had ever seen. Like his counterpart Blue, however, the Crystal Dragon was sleeker than some of the others. Yet it was not size that so overwhelmed the warlock. Neither was it the image of a dragon who seemed carved from the very crystal he took his title from. The drake warriors had dazzled Cabe’s eyes enough, but their monarch positively blinded. In fact, it was the Crystal Dragon who so made the room blinding.
What overwhelmed him was the age. There was no particular thing that indicated it, but staring at his host, Cabe knew that here was the oldest of the present Dragon Kings. Even older than Ice, who had claimed the mantle of age often. It was said that the drake lords tended to live a thousand years at best, mostly because of the violent world of their kind. The warlock doubted that any of the other Dragon Kings were more than seven hundred years old. They might have the potential for long lives, but the drakes always found conflicts to kill themselves in . . . much the way humans did. Unfortunately for the drakes, their kind did not multiply as quickly as Cabe’s race did.
Sharp diamond wings spread. The huge head dipped down so as to better observe the tiny human. “You have ssssought me, Cabe Bedlam, and I have given you an audience. Do you now intend to ssssimply sssstare for that time?”
It did not help that no matter where he looked, all he saw was either the reflected image of the Dragon King’s unique countenance or that of his own, uncertain visage. Each face was distorted. He felt as if they all watched him, awaiting his response.
“Your pardon, Your Majesty. This is, I hope you’ll understand, much to take in.”
“Isss it?” An unreadable look crossed the draconian features.
Try as he might, Cabe could not completely calm himself down. This chamber was by far the most daunting. It served some distinct purpose, a purpose that he could not help but think that the Dragon King was trying to hide from him. All this blazing brilliance, brought forth by the drake lord himself, was meant to distract. The warlock was not certain how he had come to that conclusion, just that it made some sense when he viewed the chamber and its lord as a whole.
“It is,” he finally answered. Clearing his suddenly dry throat, Cabe continued. “You must know, my lord, that even though it was the Quel who led me here, I would have come to request an audience with you regardless.”
“Then you are here about the black plague sssswarming over my realm.” The Dragon King shifted
. Although he pretended control, his movements looked forced to his human guest, as if the crystalline monarch was trying too hard to appear confident. The drake lord’s entire body spoke of a creature at war within. Even his disinterested tone was too perfect.
What goes on here? This was not what Cabe had expected. “I am, yes. You should know. It is your summons that brought me here in the first place.”
“My what?” The reptilian eyes widened. Almost it seemed that fear was the dominant emotion, but Cabe could not believe that was possible. What could frighten the Crystal Dragon?
“Your . . . summons. The vision and the dream.”
“Visions . . . dreams?” Lifting his head high, the glittering leviathan turned his gaze toward the walls. The Dragon King had an apparent fascination for his reflections, but not because of any vanity. The mage watched him closely. Although he had only been in the Dragon King’s presence for a minute or two, Cabe was already beginning to worry about the drake lord’s sanity.
“You didn’t send them?” Cabe asked after a long silence had passed.
Instead of answering his question, the Crystal Dragon quietly ordered, “Tell me of the visions.”
Having few options, the worried spellcaster did that. He described his first experience and how he had shrugged it off. Then Cabe described the dream and how Aurim had also been affected. At that the reptilian monarch glanced his way, but the images soon snared him again. Cabe concluded with the vision he had suffered while recuperating in the hills of Esedi. When his tale was complete, the warlock waited for some comment.
Another long silence ensued, but at last the Crystal Dragon gazed down at him. The look in those great, inhuman orbs was enough to make Cabe Bedlam stiffen. There was sanity in them, but not much.
“I did not ssssummon you, warlock . . . or perhapssss I did.”
Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III Page 23
