More cautious, Darkhorse repositioned Aurim so that this time he would be secure. Even so, Darkhorse knew that he would not be able to move very swiftly through the forest. The saddle would continue to shift around as he moved, upsetting Aurim's balance again. Carrying the sorcerer across his back also meant that the shadow steed now needed an even wider path. In a forest as thick as Dagora, that was bound to cause trouble at more than one point during their flight.
By now, Yureel had to know that he had lost his hold on his puppet sorcerer. The other members of the Order would also realize that one of their own was missing. Some sort of pursuit could certainly not be far behind. Darkhorse had to move on.
He passed the tree that had once been a thinking being. There was nothing Darkhorse could do for the sprite, but he did vow that he would alert the Green Dragon to what had happened. Despite his distaste for the creatures, her fate was a matter for her master to decide. If the drake chose to free her, so be it.
Handicapped as he was, reaching the Dragon King was still his best option. The drake lord had eyes throughout the forest; someone or something would take note of the huge black stallion and his unconscious charge. Hopefully, this time it would be a creature actually serving the Dragon King.
As the shadow steed traversed the thick forest, he continued to keep a wary eye out for Saress or any of the other spellcasters. For some reason the enchantress had not been part of the invasion force. Darkhorse supposed that her present duties now included monitoring Zuu while the king was away, although certainly Lanith could contact her through one of the other members of the Order if necessary. Still, it would have been nice to know where the treacherous woman was.
The night quickly aged. The shadow steed paused momentarily to assess two possible paths ahead. More than two hours had now passed since Darkhorse had left the region of the sprite and still he had come across no one who could help him. At this rate, dawn would soon arrive. Where are your spies, drake? Surely some creature other than the sprite dwelled or hid in this part of the forest. So far, the only signs of life other than the trees themselves had been the occasional cry of a night bird and the constant rustle of leaves as the wind blew—
It suddenly dawned on Darkhorse that although the leaves rustled even now, this time there was no wind. Something else was causing the branches to shift, something very large.
What dropped from the high, night-shrouded treetops was no bird . . . or, rather, was a bird, but also much more. It stood approximately the height of a human, but other than also having the general shape of one, the creature was avian. In many ways, it resembled the Gryphon with its predatory beak and its intelligent, searching eyes. However, where the king of Penacles often showed compassion, an aura of arrogance surrounded the newcomer.
Wide wings now folded, the avian pointed a taloned hand at Darkhorse's cargo.
"Stand aside, Seeker, I have no time for you!" The eternal kept glancing about the area. Where one Seeker lurked, there was generally a full flock nearby. Prior to the Dragon Kings, the avians had ruled this land, but their own audacity coupled with their continual war with the earth-burrowing Quel had led to their downfall. Rookeries still existed, though, and many Seekers still believed that they were masters of the Dragonrealm.
The avian, a male judging by his height, opened his other hand, revealing a medallion. The Seekers were renowned for the magical medallions they had created and many humans, elves, and drakes had hunted ruined rookeries looking for such prizes. Darkhorse, who knew how devious the devices could be, took several steps back until he heard fluttering behind him.
A second Seeker just a little smaller than the first and therefore likely a female blocked his path of retreat. Darkhorse wondered if they were aware that his power was hindered by his trappings. Certainly they wondered why he took such a slow, methodical route to bring Aurim Bedlam home. The avians were very familiar with the Bedlams, especially Cabe and his mad father Azran. Darkhorse suspected that the Seekers respected Cabe for his past dealings with them, but that did not mean that such respect transmitted into concern and respect for either the master sorcerer's friend or his son.
Seeming somewhat irritated, the first Seeker squawked quietly, then held the medallion up. The shadow steed readied himself for whatever assault the birdman planned.
Images flooded his head, images Darkhorse immediately recognized as originating from the mind of the Seeker. The avians could communicate with those of other races by either using their talismans or, better yet, touching their clawed hands to the forehead of the one with whom they desired to converse. Communication always occurred in the form of a series of images, not all of them necessarily based in reality. This Seeker had chosen the medallion, likely well aware what it might mean to touch the legendary demon steed.
In his mind, Darkhorse saw the Green Dragon, now seated on his throne, making a demand of a pair of elder Seekers. The image was followed by one of the armies of Lanith poised at the edge of the Dagora Forest. That picture, in turn, was followed by the vision of a blazing forest. Next came a series of swift scenes, all of them of flocks of Seekers rising swiftly into the night sky.
"So your flocks serve the drake lord of this forest, do they?" An interesting alliance. Seekers despised drakes even more than they did humans.
The vision shifted without warning, showing avian against drake in combat. The alliance was only temporary, foes joining together to combat a common enemy. Lanith's horde lay destroyed, their pitiful weapons no match for the combined might of the Seekers and the Dragon King.
"And what about his sorcerers? Your victory will not be an easy one, bird!" Pride was still one of the Seekers' greatest weaknesses. Too often they dove into conflicts, assuming that they were destined to be the victors.
The winged figure ignored his question, instead indicating the prone form atop the back of the shadow steed. An image of Cabe Bedlam materialized in Darkhorse's thoughts. The avian had made the link between Darkhorse's unconscious charge and the master sorcerer. How he had made that link became a little clearer a breath later when a vision of Yssa formed. Evidently the Seekers held her in as much respect as they did Cabe. For some reason, the eternal was not at all surprised. The drake's half-human daughter seemed to have a way with some creatures.
Pulling the medallion to his chest, the birdman indicated that Darkhorse should follow him. While the eternal would not normally have trusted the creature enough to obey, he decided that it was best to risk it at this time. After all, the Seekers only had to seize the reins to put him under their complete control, something he did not want them to discover. If he cooperated, they would not be tempted to forcibly lead him along.
One benefit of the avians' unexpected appearance was that any pursuer would think twice before attacking while the Seekers were nearby. Even the Order would pause. Seeker magic was a force to be reckoned with.
While it was clear the pair with him would have preferred to return to the sky, they remained earthbound for the trek, flittering through the woods like graceful yet deadly dancers. However, Darkhorse did not doubt that at least half a dozen more just like them lurked above, flying from tree to tree and keeping a silent vigil on the surrounding area with both their eyes and their medallions.
The Seeker behind Darkhorse suddenly bumped into him. He glanced as best he could at the smaller of the bird people, discovering her all too interested in Aurim. While reading the shadowed, inhuman features was ofttimes difficult, the stallion thought he saw suspicion and uncertainty in her eyes. She started to reach for the sorcerer's dangling arm, but Darkhorse took a quick step forward. She glared at him but could not match his icy gaze for very long. The Seeker retreated a few steps and did not try to touch Aurim again.
As pleased as he was to be making apparent progress, Darkhorse again grew impatient with the length of the journey. Surely the Green Dragon had to know where he was by now. Why did the drake not simply use his vast power to transport the eternal and his companion to his
caverns? Why trust to the untrusting Seekers?
The lead creature paused without warning. Darkhorse looked around, but saw nothing significant about the location. The Seeker, ignoring his impatience, went down on one knee, lowering his head at the same time.
With the other Seeker keeping watch, the first avian raised his hands upward. Darkhorse could not sense any use of sorcery, but he suspected that his guide was trying to summon someone very far away.
When enough time had passed and still nothing had happened, the shorter Seeker squawked angrily. The male looked up at her and squawked back, his annoyance seeming to be focused more on his companion than the one he was trying to summon. When it was clear that there would be no more interruptions from the impatient female, the taller Seeker renewed his summoning.
As if in response, a figure formed in the darkness just before the male.
At last! the shadow steed thought, his exasperation having grown nearly beyond his control. / will have some very choice words for you, drake lord, for making me journey this long when the situation is so dire!
However, the newcomer was not the Dragon King, but a shorter, more familiar person.
Yssa.
"I'm here, J'K’I’RU—" The enchantress paused when she saw the steed and his cargo. "Darkhorse! You escaped! Is that . . . is that Aurim?"
"It is, Yssa, and while I am indeed happy to see you, perhaps you can explain to me how you come to be associated with these . . ."
"That can wait." She folded her arms tight. "I don't think that I want to let Lady Bedlam wait any longer than I have to. Not after our first encounter. She doesn't even know why I left so suddenly." Yssa turned to the male Seeker, reaching out a hand at the same time. Surprisingly, the avian, now standing, took her hand and held it. He squawked something, to which Yssa replied with a nod. "Thank you again, J'K'i'RU. I know it wasn't easy to convince your flock to do this, even for me."
"Do you actually understand that noise? What is this Jkiroo you've said twice already?"
"J'K'i'RU. That's the shortened version of his name. Don't ask me to repeat the full version; I don't think my mouth and lungs could take it. Yes, of course I understand him, just as I understood the grass."
She said it in such a matter-of-fact tone. Darkhorse doubted that anyone save perhaps Azran Bedlam had ever been able to understand the natural language of the Seekers. Most had to rely on either the medallions or being touched by the avians. Truly there was more to Yssa than anyone realized.
However, she was correct about one thing. Now he, who had been so impatient to end his journey, was delaying it further. Aurim needed to be attended to and the sooner the better.
Behind him, the female said something. The male shook his head, but she insisted. Finally, he squawked at Yssa, who nodded her head. "I'll tell him that."
"Tell who what?"
"A message for Cabe Bedlam. A personal one. This flock holds him in especially high regard because of something concerning his father . . ." The enchantress sounded somewhat puzzled.
"He can explain in more detail, but I will tell you that it is because of Cabe that many Seekers were freed from their servitude to Azran, his father. Azran was nothing like his son."
"So I've heard." She approached the eternal. "The saddle. It feels . . . evil. The rest of the equipment does—"
"Lady Bedlam is no doubt very upset, Yssa. We should go to her as soon as possible." He dared not let her continue speaking about the saddle and bridle until they had been removed. If the Seekers did not realize just how handicapped he was at the moment, he had no intention of illuminating them in that regard. Darkhorse did not trust them enough to not think that they might turn on Yssa, even if she was respected by them.
"You're right, of course." The blond enchantress held both hands out, thumbs together and fingers fanned out. The Seekers returned the gesture, the male actually touching palms with Yssa. Darkhorse, studying the hands, wondered if the gesture was supposed to represent a flock coming together in harmony. When there was time, he intended on discussing much with the young woman.
The Seekers suddenly darted up into the air, vanishing into the darkened treetops. Yssa watched them disappear, then turned her attention back to the ebony stallion and his unconscious passenger. "You can't transport the pair of you back to the Manor, can you?"
"No, I cannot . . . can you?"
"I think I can do it, but we might have to appear just outside the magical barrier that surrounds their domain. I don't think Lady Bedlam trusts me quite enough yet to let me immediately enter. I only made it last time, I think, because I was with Cabe. She's very protective of him."
"Like me, Yssa, she is very protective of all of those close to her." The shadow steed studied the darkened forest. "I am very distrustful of the lack of attention Lanith has given our escape so far. You had best send us on our way before that changes."
"I agree." She closed her eyes, concentrating.
The blink hole illuminated the entire area. The moment Yssa indicated everything was ready, Darkhorse wasted no time in entering.
Nothing hindered them as they crossed from one end of the hole to the other. Yssa and Darkhorse stepped out of the other end, only to find that what she had feared was true. They had not materialized on the Manor grounds, but rather in the surrounding forest. Darkhorse recognized the region and knew that another two or three steps would take him up to the barrier that prevented those without permission from entering.
"There's something I should warn you about first, Darkhorse. I nearly forgot. The Bedlams think—"
"Darkhorse." The voice that interrupted was that of Gwendolyn Bedlam, but the tone was hardly one of relief or greeting. Instead, it almost sounded accusatory. "What have you done to my son?"
"My lady?" He turned, nearly jostling Aurim loose, and found the legendary sorceress standing behind Yssa. An aura surrounded Gwendolyn Bedlam, a crimson aura that mirrored the outrage in her expression.
"Careful, Gwen," called Cabe from yet another direction. He, too, faced his old friend as if confronting a possible foe, but his expression was more a combination of curiosity and sorrow. "Let's hear him out."
"Our son lies on his back like some gutted stag. I want to know if he's all right before anything else happens, Cabe."
"He is not all right, Lady Bedlam. He has been through far too much. The sooner you are able to care for him, the better his chances of full recovery are!" The shadow steed sidled close to them so that the Bedlams could retrieve their eldest offspring.
The emerald-clad enchantress seemed to relax a little. Darkhorse, neck twisted to the limits the bridle allowed him, saw that the aura had faded somewhat. She was still furious with him for some reason, but parental concern had taken the forefront.
Aurim's still form rose from his back, the young sorcerer's flight guided by his father. Cabe Bedlam brought his son up to eye level, then floated him toward his mother, who immediately began to inspect him.
"He seems all right on the surface, but something's been done to his mind." She glared at Darkhorse. "What did you do to his mind?"
"I did nothing!" the eternal instantly protested. He slowly began to understand what was happening. As impossible as it was to imagine, they believed that he was somehow responsible for Aurim's condition.
Stepping forward, Cabe interjected, "Darkhorse, I felt your presence when Aurim and the other sorcerers attacked me. I also sense your touch in his mind. Everything points to you being responsible for possessing and possibly injuring our son. Can you explain that?"
"I can, but it would be better if we did so in the safety of the Manor. You must understand—"
"You're forbidden entrance for now, Darkhorse. I'm sorry. Gwen and I can't take that chance."
"Cabe! You cannot possibly believe that I would ever harm either you or yours! I am your friend! I was your grandfather's friend! I have stood by your line more times than even I can count! I have fought beside you against drakes and more! How could you
, how could even your lady, believe that I would harm your son?"
Even Gwen was moved by his words. "I don't want to believe that of you, either, Darkhorse, but something did happen to my son and your trace is on him."
"Not my trace, my lady, although I can clearly see why you would think so. No, to my shame, that which you sensed earlier, Cabe, was not me . . . and yet I must also say that it was. The villain you seek is an abomination, a travesty of everything that I have sought to be, whose foul name is Yureel."
"Yureel?" The Bedlams and Yssa stared blankly at him. He had hoped that at least the young enchantress would make the link between Lanith's mysterious intelligent force and what he had just revealed, but such was not to be the case.
"Yureel," Darkhorse repeated. "A creature whose trace is so very much like mine because . . . because once, before there were two of us, there was only one. Him." He shook his head. "I will say no more out here. We risk his presence by doing so. Besides, Aurim needs aid."
Cabe walked over to him, reaching out to touch his muzzle. The eternal felt a sorcerous probe enter his mind. He did nothing to deflect it, knowing that the spellcaster sought the proof of his words.
Stepping away a minute later, the sorcerer said, "I believe him." When he saw that his wife was about to protest, Cabe Bedlam added, "And yes, I also believe it's him, Gwen. I thought of that, too." The human did not bother to explain to Darkhorse what he meant by the last, but he did apologize. "I'm sorry, my old friend, but we've been on edge for the past several days. We know all about the armies devastating the western edge of the Dagora Forest and we're painfully aware that our son seems to be a part of the horse king's Magical Order, the ones most responsible for what was happening."
"The Gryphon's been speaking to the Green Dragon, although if they've accomplished anything yet, we haven't heard," Gwen added. "We wanted to go and confront Aurim ourselves, but the Gryphon convinced us that it was more likely we would fall prey to the same power that had taken him. Worse, it was even more likely we'd have to fight our son."
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