Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. II

by Richard A. Knaak

  Behind them, Melenea’s stronghold started its final collapse within itself. Melting yet not melting, it looked like a water-soaked drawing rather than an actual castle. That such power was now unchecked…

  If it was a sign, neither of them wanted to know. They closed their eyes and were, a heartbeat later, at their destination.

  XX

  THE DISCONCERTING IMAGE of one land imposed upon another was possibly the most refreshing vision that Dru had experienced in some time. The shrouded realm was a victim of paradox; its presence was one of the few stable things that the sorcerer could still recall. Where everything else was suffering chaotic change in one manner or another, the region where he had made his accidental pilgrimage to the Void and beyond was nearly the same as it had been at that time.

  “This is… beautiful.” Xiri brushed a hand through several blades of ghostly grass. “Like seeing the spirit of the forest and the field.”

  “But not enough.” The realm beyond the veil was too vague an image, too much like so many others he had investigated early on. Even from where he stood, he could see that the rift area was only a vague shadow of its once-mighty self. He could not say whether the spectral land would fade to nothing or strengthen until it was more real than the piece of Nimth it was displacing. Whichever, it was evident that for at least the time being, they would find no accessible path to the founders’ world. Perhaps later, but not now.

  Dru imagined several thousand vengeful faces and shuddered at what sort of reward Vraad imagination would create for him if his promises proved as transparent as the woods in the distance.

  “I do not see him.”

  He did not have to ask who it was she meant. Rendel would have known after a few moments that there was no escape using this place. Dru had not expected to find him here, though he had scanned the region with care, just in case. The Tezerenee was none of his concern, however. Rendel had chosen to go his own way.

  The sorcerer shifted, anxious to be gone from here. He had fulfilled his duties to the other Vraad; it now was necessary, not just for his own sake but theirs as well, that he return to his domicile. That his concern presently centered more on Sharissa than the fate of his race did not disturb him.

  He sent his mind out, seeking the link.

  Sirvak?

  Xiri watched, both interested and anxious. He had explained earlier about Sirvak and how the familiar, like Cabal, protected the pearl edifice from outsiders.

  Dru frowned. Sirvak rarely took so long to respond. The link between them was strong… or had been until now. Concentrating harder, he discovered only the barest thread keeping his mind in tune with the creature. Sirvak’s end was a complete mystery. There was a fuzziness, as if the familiar was not quite there. Dru grew more uneasy. He called to the familiar again, this time pressing to the limits of his will.

  After another long, nerve-twisting silence, a distant, tentative voice filled his head. Masterrr?

  He knew that Xiri was aware of his success by the look of relief she flashed at him. Likely the same expression was plastered over his own. Sirvak! What happened to you? Why didn’t you respond? Is Sharissa all right?

  Masterrr. There are troublesss! You must come here!

  “What about Sharissa?” Dru realized he had shouted, so frustrated had he become in the few seconds since contacting his creation. Why was Sirvak acting so upset? Why would the familiar not answer a question concerning Sharissa? I’m coming! You will wait for me by the entrance to my work chamber!

  Masterrr, no! Danger! Let Sirvak guide you in! Will explain when you are safe!

  Very well! Just do it! Dru broke the link, confused and very angry. He reached out to his right and took Xiri’s hand. “My familiar will teleport us into my home. It seems quite agitated.”

  “Something to do with your daughter?”

  “It must be. Sirvak wouldn’t say a thing concerning her, but kept speaking of trouble. I—”

  Nimth was no more. Dru suffered a brief period of total chaos where he floated in a dark limbo. He had lost his grip on Xiri, somehow and realized that he had never brought her up to Sirvak. Had the familiar left her outside?

  His feet touched the cold, hard surface of one of the castle’s floors.

  “Sirvak? Xiri?” His eyes refused to focus. “Sirvak? What kind of spell was that? What happened? Xiri?”

  After a moment, a delicate hand touched his. “Hush, Dru. I’m right here.”

  He blinked, slowly making out vague shapes. The shapes tightened until they were actual forms… walls, doorways, torches, and, to his left, his elfin companion.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked in concern. Her eyes were bright, as if she had actually enjoyed the transfer.

  “Better than I did when I first arrived. Didn’t you feel the disorientation? A sensation of being held in place for a moment or two?”

  “A little. Perhaps it didn’t affect me as much since I’m an elf.” Xiri said the last with a touch of amusement in her voice.

  Dru was unable to see the humor. He turned around and looked for the gold and black form of his winged familiar. Sirvak was nowhere in sight.

  Sirvak?

  Masterrr?

  Where are you? Dru let his rising anger wash over the disobedient creature.

  I come. The great reluctance with which the familiar responded caught the spellcaster by surprise. He would have questioned Sirvak then, but Xiri chose that moment to desire his attention.

  “What is that in there, Dru?” She had drawn closer to him, nearly clinging to his arm. To his surprise, he felt uneasy rather than pleased with her nearness. Stirring himself, he followed her finger, which pointed at the doorway to his work chamber.

  “That’s our destination. That’s where the key to crossing the ghost lands into the realm beyond waits. It should—” He broke off and stretched a hand out toward the unimpressive-looking doorway. “It’s open!”

  “Of course it is.”

  “That’s not what I mean! Sirvak!”

  There was no response from the familiar. With a new fear stirring in the pit of his stomach, Dru raced through the unprotected entrance. He had improved on the magical barricade surrounding this, one of the most important of his chambers, and left it active prior to his last departure from the castle. By rights, only he and Sharissa could have entered and neither of them would have removed the spell, even with all the other defenses implanted throughout Dru’s domicile. Did this have anything to do with the dangers that Sirvak had mentioned in his ravings? Where was the familiar? Where was Sharissa, the only other person who had access?

  When Dru saw the crumpled figure buried beneath the long cloak, he thought his worst fears had finally caught up to him. Then the sorcerer stared more closely and saw that it was a male body sprawled before them.

  Rendel.

  From the awkward angle that his body lay in, it was quite impossible that the Tezerenee had survived. Dru stepped closer, cautious because he still did not know what had killed the other Vraad. He also wanted to know how Rendel had gained entrance in the first place.

  He touched the body. It was still warm, which was not too surprising since Rendel had only departed the communal city a short time before Dru and Xiri had. The dead Vraad’s expression was that of puzzlement, as if even then he could not believe that something had, in absolute fashion, ensured that he would not return to the shrouded realm. He felt no remorse for the arrogant Tezerenee. As intelligent as Rendel had been, his ego had made him blind to common sense. He could not see the abrupt end his ways would bring him. Nothing had been beyond him, as far as Rendel was concerned.

  Dru wondered what it was that the Tezerenee had desired so much that he would grow so careless. If it did lie in the realm beyond the veil, then someone else would someday claim it. Dru hoped he would not be around when that happened. Anything that so obsessed a Tezerenee could only be a danger to all others.

  Stepping back from the corpse, he saw the cracked blue crystal, n
o more than the size of a nut, that lay nestled in the crook of Rendel’s arm. Dru forgot about the body at his feet.

  “Serkadion Manee!” He had slim hope that he was wrong, but a simple turn of the head was enough to show him the worst.

  His experiment, the spiral patterns and the orbiting crystals, the work that was to have given him the answers he needed, was in disarray. A few stones still circled, but in mad curves that no longer had meaning. Several had fallen to the floor. The spiral patterns still existed, but they had deteriorated beyond repair. Rendel had destroyed not only the culmination of his research but the patterns that had been needed to find the nearest opening.

  The master mage frowned. Viewing things, he saw it was not so much Rendel who had destroyed the artifact but rather the artifact that had killed the Tezerenee. But how? As he had created it, the experiment should have been harmless. This one had unleashed enough magic to make an end of the intruder.

  “Sirvak!” Dru shouted, more out of anger than because he thought that it would have any more success in summoning the familiar than the mind link had.

  “Masterrr.”

  The gold and black beast was a pitiful sight as it fluttered into the room. It gave Xiri a wide berth, glancing at her with pain-wracked eyes as it passed, and settled down on a table nearby. Dru studied the animal, taken aback by its disheveled appearance. Its fur and feathers were matted heavily with dirt and blood and it was even missing most of one of its forelegs. The spellcaster’s anger deflated as he imagined the cause of the beast’s injuries.

  Sirvak stretched its ravaged wings, the effort visibly painful. “Masterrr.”

  Xiri moved to join Dru, taking his arm and watching the familiar from his side. Sirvak hissed in her direction, but shrank into itself when the sorcerer gave it a withering look. A slight smile spread across the elf’s face.

  “What happened here, Sirvak?” he finally asked. “Where is Sharissa? How did Rendel get in here and what killed him? Tell me.”

  The familiar opened its toothy beak and squawked in frustration. It could not take its eyes from Xiri, though it was evident that Sirvak could not abide her being here. Dru knew that not trusting outsiders was part of the creature’s training, but it should have been able to make the distinction between those like Melenea and one who was so obviously the master’s companion.

  “I’m still waiting.”

  “Answer your master, familiar,” the elf urged, still wearing the smile.

  “The Mistressss Sharissa, masterrr. It was by her doing that this one”—it indicated Rendel—“gained entrance here.”

  “What killed him? Was it my experiment?”

  Sirvak’s eyes were narrow slits that followed each movement Xiri made. “Yes-sss. It was the experiment.”

  Dru had been afraid of that. He had no doubt that the trap had been set for him, which meant that Melenea had been here at least once before. Had Sharissa let her inside? He recalled his own commands to the familiar, the ones that had made it virtually impossible for the winged creature to tell his daughter anything about Dru’s time with the enchantress. Once again, the fault was his. Sirvak had only done the best it could under the circumstances.

  “Where is Sharissa?”

  “Sirvak does not know.”

  “Not know?” He quieted as the injured creature shut its eyes in shame. “I’m sorry, Sirvak. When was the last time you saw her?”

  The familiar opened its brilliant eyes wide. “Mistress was with Tezerenee! Hood-faced one. Like this one.”

  Dru gave Rendel’s body a glimpse and asked, “Gerrod? Do you mean she’s with Gerrod?”

  “Gerrod, yesss.”

  “This Gerrod is like his brother?” Xiri asked.

  “Like Rendel, yes, but I didn’t think he was quite so bad.” He studied Sirvak’s wounds. The familiar had fought wyverns before, but none had caused such damage. A larger beast, like Cabal, would have been more of a threat. Something did not sit right. “You’ve no idea what happened to them.”

  “No, masterrr.” Sirvak was upset with itself. It kept staring at its lord’s companion with loathing. Dru stroked the creature’s head, trying to soothe it.

  “It’s been terribly damaged,” the elf said, looking over the ruined limb and the scars. “Perhaps it might be better if you destroyed it and made a new one.”

  Dru said nothing, but rather stared into Sirvak’s eyes. When the gold and black animal closed its eyes again, its body shivering, he leaned close to it and, in a quiet, companionable tone, asked, “Sirvak, will you do something for me?”

  “Master?” It looked at him, weariness and pain giving its voice an unsteady pitch.

  “I want you to go outside and search. Find Sharissa.”

  “Masterrr—”

  “Do as I say.”

  Sirvak hesitated. It eyed the elf, then Dru again. Something changed in its manner. It spread its wings and shifted. “I will obey.”

  “You always know what I want, Sirvak. I trust you do now.”

  The familiar dipped its head. “Sirvak will not fail you.”

  Both Dru and Xiri stepped back as the once-magnificent creature flapped its wings and rose with awkward movements into the air.

  “Are you certain it can handle this task? It looks nearly dead.”

  “Things are not always what they appear,” was his reply. “Sirvak will do what it must, regardless of the handicaps it now suffers.”

  “And what do we do in the meantime?” Again, her arm was around his. “What do we do with him?”

  She spoke of Rendel. Dru did not bother with the still shape. “The castle will take care of his remains. It, like Sirvak, owes its ultimate loyalty to me.”

  The downward corners of her mouth revealed her uncertainty concerning the phrasing of his response, but the elf did not say anything more, allowing Dru to bring her along as he suddenly started for the doorway.

  “Have I raised any doubts in your mind?” he asked when they were out in the hallway.

  “What?” She stumbled as she blurted out the question.

  “Have I raised any doubts? Do you still want to remain with a Vraad? One of the unholy race?”

  “You’re not so evil.” Xiri caressed his cheek.

  Dru watched the hall ahead of them. “No, there are far worse.”

  “Melenea.”

  “And Barakas, for one, though he’s been rather tame. I wonder if he has his empire yet or if the Seekers have left his bones to the scavengers. Have you ever seen one of their cities? What is it like?”

  They moved through one hallway to another. Ahead of them, Dru knew, lay the theater where Sharissa had created and manipulated her fanciful dancers.

  The woman at his side shrugged. “I’d rather not say too much. I didn’t care for them.”

  “Ugly places of iron and stone sprouting out of the earth like sores, if I remember what you said before.”

  She smiled, not wanting the subject to go on any further. “You see why I don’t like to talk about them. Horrible places.”

  “Yes.”

  “Where are we going, Dru?”

  He sighed and squeezed her hand. “I want to show you another side of me. I want to show you the theater I built for my daughter… and my bride.”

  “Is it much farther?” She let the comment about Dru’s mate pass, but he could see that it had touched her in some way.

  “Not far. As a matter of fact, here it is already!” The theater had actually been farther away, but he had decided to risk using sorcery and have the castle realign itself. The sooner this was over, the better.

  Dru had desired the chamber to appear to them in its simplest form… a soft dirt floor and blank curved walls. In some respects, it resembled a miniature version of the room of worlds minus the images covering the walls and ceiling.

  “Is there more to it?”

  “Much more.” He waved his free hand and a marble floor of alternating black and white squares formed. “I can’t say why we nee
d a separate chamber to do what could be done anywhere, but Sharissa and I have preferred it this way.”

  He gestured to the left and the right. A slight tremor shook the room, but his spell still worked. Several figures, some human, some creatures of varying sorts, stood in what appeared to be random placement on the squares.

  “Do your people have chess?” He briefly outlined the game.

  She nodded, but her eyes were not on him. Rather, the figures themselves fascinated her more. “We have it, but not like this.” Xiri started to walk toward one of the closest pieces on the giant board, a wide, armored figure holding a scepter and sporting a sadistic smile. “These playing pieces… is there something—”

  Dru blinked and the board was now normal size. It rested on a glass table that was accompanied by two soft couches, one for each player.

  “Why did you do that?” Xiri snapped. She immediately remembered herself and gave him an apologetic smile.

  “You wouldn’t like what you saw there. Shall we play a game?”

  “A game? Now? When we still have to find Sharissa?”

  Joining her, he reached out to run one of his hands in her long hair. “I thought you liked games.”

  Her face was stone. “You know!”

  He tightened his grip on her hair. “You forget, Melenea, as much as you claim to understand me, I also understand you.”

  She laughed. Her form changed without warning and Dru found his hand holding nothing more than illusion. With daring quickness, Melenea took hold of him and kissed him long and hard. Dru finally succeeded in prying her away, his face deepening to a color akin to her hair.

  “No, Melenea, not again. I won’t be a part of your world. That’s behind me.”

  “If you say so, sweet. Was it that question about those Seekers that told you? I wondered about that when you asked, though I thought you were suspicious before you mentioned them.”

  “They only verified that you weren’t Xiri. You played a poor game. Tiny things that you knew that she couldn’t. Rendel and Gerrod being brothers. The worst move yet, you couldn’t even control your own personality. I gave you every chance. Sirvak wanted to tell me that it was under your sway. I guessed as much once I knew that you had gained entrance to the castle earlier, but Sirvak was unable to point you out as an imposter.” Dru turned from her, nearly daring Melenea to do something, and walked over to the chess set. He fingered one of the pieces, the one that she had tried to study up close. “I sent it away knowing you, wherever you were, wouldn’t stop me. Sirvak has suffered too much already and I know you’re to blame.”