Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. II

by Richard A. Knaak

  The eyes of his cousin blazed bright. Gerrod peeled his hand free. Ephraim’s gaze finally met his own. It was not one the hooded Vraad cared to stare into for very long.

  “As you wish, Ephraim. If you need anything, though, you must—”

  The other interrupted in the same monotone voice he had utilized earlier. “Do you know that it should be possible to take a portion of a ka and keep it after the one to whom it belongs has died? We’ve discussed it, the others and I. No one would truly ever be dead, then. They could be called up, using golems for temporary form, and made to—”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Ephraim quieted. “Nothing. We have found that we only need a part of our selves now and so we talk. The strain lessens with each one. Perhaps we are adapting to the Dragonrealm.”

  Gerrod had heard more than enough. The strain might be lessening, but it had evidently already driven the group mad if its leader was any example. He doubted that his sire would send anyone to spell the group until they began dying. Why waste any more? If Ephraim and the others lived long enough to complete their task, that was all that his father would want.

  He wrapped the shroudlike cloak about himself, once more becoming more of a shadow than a man. Ephraim took a step away. Gerrod hesitated, then said, “I will inform Father of your success and your confidence concerning your ability to continue.”

  “That would be good.”

  Perhaps they will die when no one is around to see, Gerrod thought. If only there was another way than Father’s, I would… He curled within himself, feeling, as he had the last couple of times, a curious hesitation, as if the teleportation spell did not wish to work. It did, however, and he gratefully left his cousin and the others.

  Ephraim, for his part, waited until Gerrod had left. Then, he silently returned to the center of the pentagram. The others looked up in unison, and had anybody watched them then, it would have seemed that they were one mind with eleven bodies… a mind that was no longer Tezerenee.

  DRU LOOKED OVER the information his crystals had gathered for him and compared them to those he had utilized in the past. There were definite signs of a potential breakthrough, yet there were aberrations that still made no sense.

  Made no sense unless…

  He recalled the change in the pattern that Sharissa had wrought. A pattern that should not have been stable. The intruding forces from the other realm were affecting the natural laws of his own world in much the same way as Vraad sorcery did, only without the damage. Could it be that what Dru thought made no sense merely did not because his mind refused to accept that the binding forces of Nimth had been altered by the intruding power?

  “A change in the laws of power like none before,” he muttered.

  “What will you do now?”

  “What will we do? Don’t look at me like that. I’m beginning to think that you know more than I do… or will, before long. Besides, what I hope to do will take two people and I think I prefer to trust you.”

  Her eyes were wide with realization. “You think you can cross!”

  Again, she had anticipated his next moves. Dru’s smile masked mixed emotions. “It may be possible. What we have to do is go to the point where the forces from the other realm merge and fade away. That is the point of weakness, I hope.” It was also quite possible that due to the combination of Nimth’s power and that of the other, the location would actually be the point of greatest strength. If such were the case, Dru might find himself beating against a wall so incredibly hard that not all the Vraad in the world, even had they been able to cooperate, would have been able to bring it down.

  “Will we have to walk there?”

  He considered their options. “I do not care to try to teleport, especially not after what I’ve seen and what the crystals have verified.” His eyebrow arched. “We can ride there.”

  Sharissa caught his meaning. “I’ll saddle them up!”

  Dru watched her hurry off, her childlike glee a direct contrast to her elegant face and form. If there was one thing that she had never outgrown, it was her fondness for the creatures of the stable, specifically the horses. They were rare and wonderful beasts taller than Dru, and fearsome to all save his daughter. She rode them expertly and without the aid of sorcery. They might not be as powerful or majestic as the gryphons, which she also enjoyed, but they were swifter and more companionable.

  While Sharissa went about her task, Dru reached out with his mind and strengthened the link between himself and Sirvak. The familiar’s mind opened, knowing that orders were about to be given. Dru informed it of his intentions to investigate and how long he thought they would be. To his surprise, instead of acknowledging all and returning to its duties, the beast protested.

  Masterrr! Take Sirvak with! Will need!

  Not for this, friend. I only go to research, as I have done in the past.

  Do not leave Sirvakkkk! Sirvak will guard!

  Your duties are here! Enough of this! What’s gotten into you?

  The creature sulked and would say no more. Still perturbed, Dru broke contact. As if he did not have enough difficulties! Now, even Sirvak was causing him worry!

  “Father, the horses are ready.” Along with Sharissa’s words came the echoes of animal sounds, hooves clattering on hard earth and the snorts of the two mighty steeds.

  “I’m on my way.”

  The walk to the stables was not as long as it sometimes was, especially when one was propelled, as the sorcerer was now, by a desire to be done with things. Sharissa waited at the mouth of the central stable, a horse on each side of her, their reins in her hands. Again, she had used no magic save her own charm and skill. It was not due in any part to the gentle nature of the horses, either. As one Vraad—sardonic Krystos, wasn’t it? Dru remembered vaguely—had once discovered, these animals were particular as to whom they allowed close. Krystos had escaped with his fingers intact, at least. A few more arrogant visitors, invited and not, had discovered that the stables of Dru Zeree were no place to vent their arrogance. Like their master, the animals were willing to strike back… and were doubly protected by the spells that he had layered over their forms.

  “Was Sirvak upset?”

  “Yes, how did you know?”

  “It just seemed that way. I could feel the poor thing all the way here. Why not take Sirvak with, Father? The castle will defend itself adequately.”

  Dru shrugged off her suggestion. “And Sirvak will defend it superbly. Never underestimate others, Sharissa. A Vraad always has rivals and those rivals always look for weaknesses in your defense. With Sirvak there, it will be as if they are fighting me… and you know what success they’ve had so far.”

  Sharissa’s perpetual smile broadened. Despite his more peaceful way of life since her birth, her father was not one to be underestimated. After the Lord Tezerenee, Dru was one of the most respected of the Vraad. Even his most bitter rivals occasionally came to him for assistance and advice.

  Taking the reins of the larger of the two animals, Dru mounted. In general shape and color, the two steeds were identical—proud, auburn-furred animals built for both speed and battle. Dru had chosen to forgo the use of sorcery when breeding them and had found, to his pleasure, that the results exceeded what he had originally wanted. As with many things over the past few years, he had discovered a diverse pleasure in not performing spells to accomplish his needs.

  When both of them were ready, Dru urged his horse forward. Sharissa’s steed followed close behind. With the cool wind in his face, the sorcerer slowly calmed. Things were moving in the proper direction for once, and if his theories held out, the Vraad would not have to bow to the will of the Lord Tezerenee. Barakas would be upset about that, to be sure, but Dru had no qualms about destroying his “partner’s” dream. It was only because there had seemed no other way at the time that he had let the situation go on for as long as it had. Now, the cross-over would no longer be necessary.

  The sky rumbled again, tearin
g him from his musings and making him look up. The dark, foreboding green was dominant for the first time in months. Dru frowned, recalling the violent changes in the land when that had last happened. The dominance of either color in the sky spoke ill for Nimth. Things were always best when the two were more or less even.

  Change could have only come about from some extensive use of Vraad sorcery. Dru knew of only one cause… the spells of the Tezerenee tearing at the boundaries and beyond. The great cross-over was hastening the death of the world, if Dru read the signs right. Now, more than ever, the importance of his own plan became unmistakable. Unconsciously, he urged the horse to greater speed.

  “Father!” Sharissa suddenly called out, her voice partly obscured by the continued rumbling.

  He turned toward her, careful to make certain that the steed was following a safe path, and saw what had caught her attention.

  A crack had opened in the earth far to the north of their present location. It was small now, little more than a scar, but it was widening with each passing moment. The walls of each side of the growing ravine crumbled, causing a rain of rock and dirt. The sight would not have disturbed Dru save for the fact that the path of the tear would cut through his own domain closer than any such vast instability had prior to this. In fact, the horses might not be able to clear it on the way back. He would be forced to use his sorcery… and so near to an untrustworthy region.

  Complications and disaster; it seemed he was never to be free of them. Dru hoped that the point of intersection would at least prove peaceful, like the eye of a storm.

  The horse stumbled, nearly causing him to lose the reins. The path was rocky and rose higher than he recalled. When he pulled on the reins in order to slow the animal, it gave him no argument. Sharissa’s mount caught up to them, then slowed to a similar pace as the young woman copied her father’s action.

  The wind was picking up, much the way it had at the city. There seemed, however, no one direction to its movement, for it struck the tiny party from all sides, changing with each passing breath. Dru cursed his own impatience, for they had left their cloaks behind. With some trepidation, he stretched out his left arm and summoned one for each of them.

  On his outstretched arm appeared two brown cloaks with hoods. Sharissa took hers and gratefully put it on, drawing the hood partly over her massive waves of hair. Dru donned his own, but left the hood down for the time being. He had simply wanted the garment as a precaution.

  “How much farther?”

  Dru pointed at a ridge. Though both of them could follow the lines of binding, the odd strings of power cut through the ridge and came out somewhere on the other side, completely hidden. “Over that ridge! This must be where the rift was birthed!”

  “But that was elsewhere!”

  “The power… the flow from the other realm… spreads as it enters Nimth! The rift was the weakest of spots, perhaps created by some surge! I don’t know yet!”

  Their conversation continued as they encouraged their mounts around the ridge. As they drew closer to their destination, the wind abruptly changed again, this time dying to next to nothing. It was so calm, in fact, that Dru felt as if he had ridden into a tomb. The only sounds were the clatter of hooves against loose rock and the breathing of the riders and steeds.

  “Serkadion Manee!” Dru tugged tight on the reins as he spoke, for the horse had begun to shy at the disquieting sight before them.

  “It’s—” Sharissa struggled futilely for words and finally just let her silence speak for her.

  Dru had seen the phantom lands three times before, but they never ceased to stun him. A part of his mind that still functioned understood what Sharissa, who had never seen such a sight, must be feeling.

  The ridge that was truly a part of the Vraad’s world was a sharp, twisted thing that rose high in the air and went on for some distance. A few scraggly trees stood here and there, along with some equally misshapen bushes. Of animal life, there was no trace. The ridge was more or less a great gray-brown mass of dirt and rock, hardly worth looking at by itself.

  Not so, the other realm.

  A forest of spectral trees, high and strong, seemed to stand guard at the base of the ridge. When Dru looked closer, he saw that the forest went into the ridge itself, much the same way the lines of force had on the other side. Transparent waves of grass, knee-high to the spellcaster, dipped back and forth, brushed gently by some breeze that existed there, but not in Nimth. A tiny form flitted beyond, an avian of some sort, though it looked like no more than a shadow. The curious mist hung over all, making both regions appear blurred.

  “It’s frightening… and beautiful,” Sharissa finally managed to say.

  “Yes.” Dru stirred, knowing he was wasting valuable time. “Stay where you are. I want to go farther.”

  “Father! You can’t do that! This isn’t like the others, the intruding power—”

  He was already dismounting. “I won’t be able to find out what I want unless I walk through it.” That was not quite true, but he could not resist. This was not the solid, absolutely real mountain peak he had spotted earlier, but it was the most complete image yet. More important still, the point of intersection was almost in sight. There, he would learn the most.

  Dru started to hand the reins of his mount over to Sharissa, then decided it might be better to have the horse handy. He whispered a short spell to the animal, calming it in case the unnatural landscape made it too distraught.

  “Be careful.”

  “I will. You watch. Let me know if you see anything out of the ordinary.”

  “Everything here is out of the ordinary.”

  He chuckled. “True.”

  Leading the horse he slowly walked into the chaotic region. Even the ground, the watchful spellcaster noted, had its wraithlike counterpart. Twice, he stepped into depressions that he had assumed were not part of his reality and once he nearly tripped when what he thought was better footing proved to be a slightly more solid-looking bit of the other realm.

  The translucent field of grass invited him to enter. After a moment of hesitation, he put a foot forward. Finding nothing but the hard soil of his own world, he grew more confident.

  All around him, Dru began to feel a tingling. He was close to the invading lines of force. For reasons the sorcerer could not fathom, a great revulsion at the thought of using Vraad magic overwhelmed him. He had not had any desire to cast a spell, but the feeling was with him, regardless. Dru steadied himself and pushed the emotion to the back of his mind. It continued to nag him, but no more than if he had been experiencing a mild headache.

  Halfway through the field, Dru paused. The forest was far more solid now and tinges of color pervaded it. The lines converged within the forest after all, but he could still not make out where.

  “Father!”

  Dru whirled back, but all he saw were Sharissa and the other horse. She did not appear fearful, only worried. He waited for her to say or do something.

  Sharissa pointed at the treetops, which Dru had more or less ignored. It was hard to hear her; the shrouded realm seemed to deaden sound. All that he could make out from her shouts and gesturing was that she had seen some fairly large shape in the trees. The master mage turned and studied them for more than a minute, waiting for some sign of whatever it was his daughter had noticed. His own impatience, however, got hold of him and he finally turned back to her and shrugged. She still looked disturbed, but indicated her willingness for him to continue if he wished.

  His steed was beginning to act up now, despite the spell. Dru held tight to the reins and talked to it. Slowly, he got the animal under control. When he was at last able to gaze upon the forest again, it had grown even more real. Now, he could almost imagine the sounds of wildlife.

  Within a few yards of the first trees, Dru paused again. The true landscape of Nimth was no longer visible through the trunks; he might have very well been standing at the edge of an actual forest, though none such remained in his wor
ld. Leading the reluctant horse on, Dru moved to within arm’s length of the nearest tree. Slowly, cautiously, he reached out.

  His hand waded through something that had the consistency of mud. It was as if the tree was there, but not quite.

  The horse reared, screaming as it did.

  A man-sized shape with a wingspan greater than the length of the maddened steed fell upon the startled Vraad. Dru saw taloned hands and feet and a beak designed for tearing flesh come racing at him. So sudden was the attack that it was all he could do to raise his arms in a feeble effort to block the airborne monstrosity. There were spells that he wore upon his person that should protect him, but should and would were two different things. Whatever assaulted him was a creature of the other realm and there was no way of telling what powers it might have.

  An odd twinge coursed through Dru’s body. He stared in amazement as his adversary fell through him. In his surprise, the sorcerer had forgotten that any creature of the land beyond the veil would have the same consistency as its habitation.

  It seemed that the winged horror would continue down, battering itself against the earth of its phantom plain. Then the creature somehow managed to flap hard enough to keep it above ground level. With great strain, it rose swiftly into the air and back toward the forest. Throughout most of the moment, Dru saw little more than wings, feathers, and limbs all tangled together. Not until the attacker was disappearing into the treetops did the spellcaster get a good look at it.

  Avian it was, but also manlike. It could walk on its hind legs and grasp things in its hands, of that he was certain. Standing, it was probably nearly as tall as he was. From its ability to compensate for its mistakes and the nearly human form it wore, Dru knew that it was likely that it was intelligent as well. If such was the case, then the Lord Tezerenee’s precious Dragonrealm might not prove so idyllic a place… although the sons of the dragon might actually look forward to fighting an actual foe for a change. Perhaps Barakas already knew what awaited the Vraad.