Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III

XX

Although the wind and cold could not touch him, Cabe Bedlam nonetheless felt a chill as he stood on a ledge high atop one of the smaller peaks of the Tyber Mountains. In the distance, Kivan Grath stood above all else. Somewhere within, the warlock knew, Toma and the others waited. The spells that now enshrouded the citadel of the Dragon Emperor made it impossible to locate those inside. They also made it impossible for Cabe and Darkhorse to simply materialize there.

“We are not alone,” remarked Darkhorse. The shadow steed had insisted on joining him in this confrontation and, despite Cabe’s awareness of the fact that the eternal was not entirely well, the warlock had been unable to turn down his offer.

Cabe nodded. Besides the creatures who inhabited the Tybers, he could sense two other forms in the direction of Kivan Grath. Two monstrous forms. Dragons.

“Are you ready?” he asked the eternal.

Darkhorse chuckled and kicked the edge of the ledge. A portion of it broke off and tumbled down to the valley below. “Of course!”

“Then let’s see what Toma has waiting for us. You know what I want of you?”

The ice-blue orbs flashed. “I will watch for Valea; you may rest assured on that, Cabe. I will take her from this place and bring her safely back to the Manor. Grath, too?”

“Please. It’s not his fault Kyl is allied with Toma.”

“I wonder. The young drake is clever; I find it amazing that he could be so ignorant of his brother’s doings.”

Cabe tried to fix on the two hulking figures he could sense near the mouth of the Dragon Emperor’s sanctum. They were most definitely keeping guard. He sighed. “Follow my lead.”

“As you say.”

With a thought, the warlock sent the two of them forward. They materialized only a short distance from the very mouth of the cavern, but still far enough so that its two immense guardians were not on top of them.

Even still, the sight of the two dragons was an impressive one.

Green they were, but mixed within was a trace of gold that made them glitter a little even in the cloud-enshrouded Tybers. Their wings, presently folded, looked to have a span at least equal to the length of their bodies. They were a pair of the largest dragons that Cabe could recall encountering, and he had encountered some of the greatest. Each drake guarded one side of the massive doorway. The warlock glanced between them and noticed that someone had repaired the entrance but recently.

“Come no farther, Master Bedlam!” rumbled the dragon on his left.

“Faras?” the warlock asked, slightly disoriented. The two leviathans were almost identical in appearance, but something in the first one’s voice reminded him of the drake.

“You have not been given leave to enter,” hissed the other.

“Ssgayn.” Cabe nodded to each of them. He had never seen the two drakes in dragon form, not since they were hatchlings. In truth, it was almost as surprising that they could actually shift to such shapes, not having practiced it . . . or had they? “You know why I’m here.”

Faras dipped his huge head. His teeth were jagged spikes as long as the human’s arms. Ssgayn’s were no less impressive. Even for dragons, these two were giants. “Duke Toma hasss given us strict ordersss.”

“Duke Toma? Is he emperor now?”

The dragons snapped their heads back in discomfort. Faras hissed, “Duke Toma ssspeaks for the emperor!”

“Does he?” The warlock’s eyes darted over the forms of the two dragons. He had seen almost all he needed to see. Faras and Ssgayn were not as comfortable in their present shapes as they would have liked. Their movements were slightly awkward, as if they understood the functions of their bodies but had not had enough practice. Still, knowing dragons as well as he did, Cabe did not doubt that they would be swift and deadly foes.

“So Toma speaks for Kyl now. Does Kyl know that?”

Ssgayn hissed. “You would be wissse not to mock, Master Bedlam.”

“Let me through, Ssgayn. I want my daughter.”

“We cannot. We have been charged to protect thisss entrance from all intrudersss. We mussst obey.”

They would, too. It saddened Cabe, because, knowing the two as he did, the warlock understood that Faras and Ssgayn truly saw this as their duty.

“I’ll have to enter. I won’t be kept from Valea.”

The two dragons simultaneously raised their heads. Ssgayn opened wide his maw while Faras simply replied, “Then you mussst pass usss first, Massster Bedlam!” The dragon lowered his eyes. “I am sssorry.”

Cabe started to raise his hand toward Ssgayn when the green-and-gold leviathan called out, “Wait!”

The warlock paused, but did not lower his hand. “Why?”

Both guardians had distant looks in their eyes. Cabe Bedlam recognized that look; someone was speaking to them through their minds. He glanced at Darkhorse, who dipped his head in understanding. They would wait for the dragons to listen, but no longer.

Faras was still listening inwardly when Ssgayn finally returned his attention to the warlock. “Fortune sssmiles upon us all, Massster Bedlam.” The massive dragon almost sounded relieved. “You have been granted entrance.”

Without pause, the two guardians began to shift aside. Faras, too, had broken contact with whoever had spoken to the two of them. He dipped his head in what might have been construed a draconian bow.

“This is a trick,” rumbled Darkhorse softly. “They shall let us pass and then try to catch us from all sides.”

Eyeing the dragons, Cabe scratched his chin. “I don’t know. They look as if they’re telling the truth,” he whispered back.

“How would you have them look if they wanted you to believe their story?”

“Good point, but there’s only one way to really find out whether they’re lying or not, isn’t there?”

“And if they are, we shall easily take them, won’t we?” The eternal chuckled, which made the dragons, who had been unable to hear the conversation, tense.

The warlock and the shadow steed started forward, but then Faras, who more directly faced Darkhorse, hissed and shook his head. “Noooo . . . only you, Massster Bedlam! Only you. Ssso the emperor hasss spoken.”

“Through Duke Toma, no doubt,” muttered Cabe.

“I will not accept this!” roared his companion. “We go together!”

The two dragons shifted nearer one another, effectively cutting off any glimpse of the entrance to the Dragon Emperor’s sanctum. “That isss not permitted,” added Faras.

Darkhorse looked ready to charge both scaled titans, but Cabe quickly put out a hand to halt him. “No, Darkhorse. If we fight, then we certainly endanger Valea. I’ll go in alone.”

“You cannot walk blindly into such an obvious trap!”

“But I won’t be blind, will I?”

Ssgayn moved a stride closer, a great distance when one considered that he was a dragon. Darkhorse thought it too great, for he suddenly darted ahead of Cabe, becoming, in effect, a shield between the warlock and the leviathan.

The drake did not retreat, but he did pull his head back. “I only convey my liege’sss promissse that this will be a proper, peaceful audience.” Ssgayn’s reptilian eyes met the sorcerer’s own. “Thisss my emperor ssswears!”

Whether or not he truly believed the guardian, the warlock had no true choice. Valea needed him. “Very well. I’ll enter alone.”

“Cabe! I-”

“You’ll be near enough, Darkhorse,” Cabe interjected, glancing at his companion. “If this is a ploy, do whatever you have to do.”

Neither dragon looked comfortable with that notion, but they did not appear ready to back away. I hope it doesn’t come to that, Cabe thought. Darkhorse isn’t as strong as he generally is and . . . and I’ve known Ssgayn and Faras so long.

The ebony stallion settled down, albeit with reluctance. He glared at the two huge drakes. “Very well . . . but I shall be waiting for your summons, Cabe. Do not hesitate in the least, and rest assured that I will come to you . . . no matter what or who I must go through.”

From the expressions on the draconian visages of Faras and Ssgayn, Cabe knew that Darkhorse would have to fight both of them if he did try to pass. The warlock shook his head as he started toward the guardians. If this was the path to peace, then perhaps the old days were better.

The two behemoths again moved aside, making a clear path for the warlock. Faras kept one eye on Cabe while Ssgayn studied the shadow steed carefully. The warlock paid no further attention to the guardians; his gaze was on the great bronze gate before him. It had been repaired recently, possibly by the Dragon Kings in preparation for the ascension. Toma would not have had the time or patience, not even if he had been willing to use sorcery. He could also not have replaced it during his long exile, for the other drake lords would have investigated immediately. That the gate had been repaired interested Cabe. It meant that at least someone had been fairly certain of Kyl’s success, and since only the Dragon Kings ever came here, it had to have been one of them.

That was something he could think about later . . . always providing there was a later.

He was just about to reach forward and knock on the gate when it swung open to receive him.

There was no one within. Cabe stepped into the gloom of the cavern and looked around.

A figure suddenly stepped out of the darkness, a figure who the warlock knew quite well.

“Ursa!”

Her sorrowful smile told him that she was not under the sort of spell that Toma had cast upon Gwendolyn. Cabe was glad to see that, but at the same time, he felt worse because Ursa was clearly a slave. She was clad in fine emerald-and-gold raiment worthy of her status as drake dam of the royal line, yet being here was clearly not by her choice.

“If you will follow me, Master Bedlam, they are waiting for you.”

She started to turn away, but he caught her arm. “Ursa, can you tell me if-”

“We have to go to them, Massster Bedlam,” the beautiful drake insisted, turning anxious. “I cannot sssay anything.”

“Toma?”

The look in her eyes was answer enough. Cabe quickly released his hold on her. With Ursa in the lead, they began the trek through the dark cavern entrance. Creatures fluttered about above them. The warlock heard something fairly large scuttle away.

“May we at least have some light?”

The words were no more off his tongue when a dim, golden sphere materialized before them. From Ursa’s gasp, he gathered that she was not responsible. Toma was keeping a very keen eye on his old foe.

It was the longest short walk in which Cabe had ever partaken. He knew that the distance to the main cavern was but three or four minutes, yet time seemed to slow during the journey. It felt more like an hour. That might have been due to his own anxiety concerning Valea or, knowing Toma, it might have been a spell.

Certainly, his first glimpse of the main cavern when he and Ursa finally emerged seemed to be the product of a spell.

When last Cabe had left here, the throne room of the Dragon Emperor had been a fallen ruin. The huge stone effigies that lined the path to the throne had been in total disarray, with many of them tipped over and shattered. Vast portions of the ceiling had collapsed. While the massive stone throne itself had more or less survived, the steps of the dais it stood upon had been cracked and broken. All around, the Gold Dragon’s treasures had been crushed.

Here, too, someone had tried and succeeded in repairing much of the damage. Now there were barely any signs that the destruction created in the process of bringing down the mad emperor had ever taken place. Only a few telltale cracks and some missing fragments gave any indication that the warlock’s last visit had not been a delusion.

On the throne once occupied by his sire sat Kyl.

To his left stood Valea.

At the sight of his daughter, the mage started forward. Ursa shook her head and tried to grab hold of his sleeve, but Cabe moved too swiftly for her. He stalked toward the path and the effigies, his only concern being to get Valea safely away.

“That . . . will be far enough, warlock.”

From behind the statues nearest to the dais stepped Toma. The renegade duke wore the form of the knight, but instead of his more normal green coloring, the drake was a resplendent gold and green. Cabe had seen him like this only once before, when Toma had invaded Talak and had captured both Gwendolyn and him.

A movement near Valea tore Cabe’s gaze from the deadly drake. To the sorcerer’s shock and amazement, he watched as Grath, materializing out of the shadows, seized hold of the young witch’s arms. Kyl’s brother bore an expression of interest in the proceedings, nothing more. Cabe did not even have to utilize his skills to know that Grath was no prisoner, no enchanted victim. He was a willing participant in Toma’s madness.

It was all the mage could do to keep his fury under control.

“It isss cussstomary to kneel before the emperor,” Toma announced.

“I am not a drake, as you know,” returned Cabe. He gave the renegade a slight smile. “Besides, I recall the ascension being some days away still . . . if it still comes after what you’ve done.”

At that, Kyl leaned forward. There was something in his manner that the warlock thought bespoke of built-up tension. The heir resembled a trap set much too tight, so that the slightest touch would set it off. Cabe thought it an interesting contrast to the attitude of the other two drakes. “What do you mean by that?”

“He meansss nothing by it, Your Majesty. He isss seeking to undermine you, to ssstir phantom fears in the hopesss that you will be a less able monarch becaussse of them.” Toma took a few steps upward as he spoke. Almost midway to the top, he turned to again study the human. “He hasss never desired a strong ruler for our race. That would be too much a danger to growing human control. That would be too much a danger to the power that he and hisss friends wield.”

Cabe wanted to laugh, although the duke’s words were anything but humorous. “I’m hardly you, Toma. I never asked for or desired my power the way that you covet not only yours but everyone else’s. Neither I nor any of the others have tried to seize the entire land . . . unlike you.”

“I did what I did in the name of my father, the emperor.”

“And now you do it in the name of your brother?”

“Of course,” replied the duke in all solemnity. “Ssserving the emperor hasss always been my duty . . . but perhapsss you cannot fathom sssuch thinking, warlock.”

Cabe took a defiant step forward. Kyl leaned back in the throne, his eyes darting from the warlock to Toma and then back to Cabe again. Grath tightened his hold on Valea, who was clearly under some spell that did not allow her to move of her own accord. Cabe was, however, fairly certain that she could both hear and see him. “Oh, I can fathom such thinking, as you say, but not in regards to you, Toma. I know you. I remember. Perhaps you did have some loyalty to the Gold Dragon, but I wonder just how much of that has been transferred to the one who, because he bears the markings that you feel life cheated you of, sits on the throne that would have been yours, otherwise.”

The duke hissed in anger, but said nothing. Cabe noted with interest how Kyl studied his supposed champion. It was not the type of look that he would have expected. The heir was not so pleased with Toma as the warlock had first imagined. What else have I been mistaken about?

“You have ssstill not anssswered my question, Massster Bedlam. What do you mean when you sssay that my ascension to the throne isss now in jeopardy?”

He had Kyl listening. That was more than Cabe could have hoped for under the circumstances. Toma clearly wanted to find some reason to prevent the warlock from answering, but to interrupt again would only serve to indicate the danger the duke felt Cabe’s response represented.

“First, I must assume that it was not the duke’s original intention to cause such chaos so close to the culmination of his plans. I must assume that he wanted you to be firmly ensconced on the throne . . . with Grath beside you acting as his mouth.” The last was only a guess, but from the way Kyl’s brother behaved, Cabe had to assume that he had spent most of his life misreading Grath. The younger drake was no innocent; he was definitely allied with Toma. The reasons behind that alliance would have been interesting to know, but now was hardly the time to pursue such questions.

Toma laughed, a harsh, raspy sound containing little humor. He turned partially toward the heir and pointed an accusing finger at the warlock. “You see how hisss mind works! You need to forget whatever supposed friendship he extended to you, my liege, and recall only hisss dissstaste for you whenever you were near hisss daughter.” The renegade’s eyes burned bright as he returned his attention to Cabe. “Hisss Majesty isss well aware of the circumstancesss that forced me to abandon a plan ssso well conceived and executed that I walked among you for years! An accidental encounter that could have been forgotten if not for your precocious ssson! No one would have had to come to harm or trouble. You would have all sssimply been made to forget. What your get did to my ssspell I do not know, but by meddling when he should not have, he forced me to defend my emperor.”

Now it was the sorcerer’s turn to laugh. “‘Defend my emperor’? Nothing would’ve happened to Kyl if you’d left. In another day, he would’ve simply met with Lord Blue and, I’ve no doubts about this, Kyl would have gained his support without trouble.” Cabe’s expression turned grim. “I wonder, too, how you planned to make us forget Ssarekai’s death on top of matters, Toma. He remembered you, didn’t he? Poor Ssarekai. Knowing him, he tried to stop you himself. You didn’t have to kill him, especially not the way you did, but that’s typical of you-”

“Toma!” hissed Kyl. “You told me that Ssssrekai wasss alive but bessspelled!”

The duke’s taloned hands folded into fists. Cabe felt a mild tug on the powers around them. Toma was doing something, but it was too weak to be a spell of any danger. What then?

“An accident, my liege,” replied the sinister drake. “I acted without thinking, for a knife wasss at my throat. I assure you, I did not want the ssstable master’s death-”

“I’ve told you about Toma, Kyl,” interrupted Cabe. “Others tend to die around him.”

“I will have you sssilent!” roared Toma. This time, there was the definite buildup of power. Cabe quickly threw up a magical shield, all the while silently praying that he had not underestimated the intensity of the duke’s assault.

The area surrounding the warlock flared bright orange.

“Toma! Ssstop! I forbid you!”

The renegade did cease his attack, but was otherwise paying little attention to Kyl. He descended to the last step, eyes wide with hatred and lipless mouth open to reveal the sharp, predatory teeth. Cabe strengthened his shield again, but Toma unleashed no new spell.

“Ssso much planning wasted after ssso much success! Daysss from my goal and children ruin everything! Ever hasss there been a Bedlam acting as a thorn in my hand! The cossst of the ssspell that allowed me to masquerade as the tutor left me without physical ssstrength for days and little ability to touch upon the powers for monthsss.” Here, Toma clasped a hand over the blade that Cabe recognized as the one Traske-the drake-had always worn. Now the sorcerer knew what it was and the knowledge made him curse himself for never noticing. Small wonder that Toma had been so weakened after endowing the blade with his spell. The complexity of such a design staggered Cabe. Toma would have to look, act, sound, and even feel like Benjin Traske, a human, at nearly all hours. He could never be certain that someone might need to speak to him in the middle of the night. More dangerous was the fact that, with so many others around him, the drake would have to be concerned over an accidental touch by a passerby. Yet, despite living among his enemies for so very long, Toma had been able to succeed with his masquerade. Cabe had shaken his hand on many occasions. He should have been able to note the difference. Worse, the warlock should have sensed the sorcery at work.

Something must have happened that night that Aurim had noticed Toma. Perhaps Toma had lost control of the knife. Aurim probably recalled now. If Cabe survived . . .

“Jussst a little longer,” Toma continued, oblivious to the intense interest Kyl now had in what he was saying. “Jussst a little longer and then he would have been emperor. I could have been introduced to him ssslowly, firssst as Benjin Trassske, his advisor, and then asss myssself.”

Someone would have had to pave the way for that to happen. Cabe looked up at Grath, who was growing uncomfortable. That was why Toma needed Grath. Kyl had always looked to his brother for advice; if the younger drake recommended leniency, even a position of importance for the renegade, Cabe did not doubt for one moment that the new emperor would eventually grant the duke both.

How long after would Toma be all but emperor? Could Kyl not see what Toma’s plans would ultimately mean?

Cabe was not quite certain how he hoped to end this situation, but he knew that much of it rested on Kyl now. The heir was obviously neither the steady ally nor the outright pawn the mage had expected him to be. If Kyl no longer supported Toma . . . “Kyl, the Dragon Kings will never accept Toma. Ask Blue what they think of him. You already know how Lord Green feels about him. When I spoke of the danger to your ascension, I was referring to this. If you support Toma-and have no doubts that even if I should remain silent, the Dragon Kings will discover what happened today at the Manor-they will reject you.” The warlock shrugged. “Some might not-I suspect that Toma has support from some quarter-but that will only mean a potential civil war among your kind. I can’t allow that to happen. The fate of the drakes is tied to the fate of my kind as well.”

Kyl brooded on this in silence, which Cabe took as a good sign and Toma, it appeared, took as the opposite. The drake turned toward his supposed emperor and, forcing himself to remain calm, again pointed at the warlock. “Subtle wordsss in their own way, my brother, but surely you sssee what lies beneath them?” At the heir’s puzzled look, Toma quickly continued, “He says give in to the Dragon Kingsss in this and give in to the Dragon Kings in that. He tellsss you not to be a ssstrong emperor, but rather a weak puppet of theirs, fearful of offending them. Let them sssee you back down once and they will make you back down again and again! You will be an emperor in name only. A mockery to be paraded around whenever they have need to impressss the humansss. It will be Black, Ssstorm, and the others who will dictate and it will be you who obeysss!”

As opposed to you giving him sage advice, Toma? The trouble was, there was something to what the duke had said, just enough, in fact, to lend credence to his warning. It was clear that Kyl thought so, too, for his face took on a troubled expression, as if Toma had reminded him of something he had already feared.

The renegade drake saw that he had touched a nerve and pushed his advantage. “It wasss what they tried to do to our father, Kyl, but he persssevered . . . at leassst until they entirely abandoned him.” Toma’s tone grew sad. “They tried to overthrow him, but when that failed, they turned their backs on him in his hour of need. Left him to be driven mad by the very human before you! That isss the thing you mussst truly remember, my brother and my liege! The creature resssponsible for the fall of our father, our emperor, ssstands before you now spouting lies!”

Kyl raised a hand, silencing everyone. He rose from the throne and peered down at both the duke and the warlock. The heir’s expression was unreadable. He clasped his hands behind his back, then glanced at Grath, who had remained by Valea all this time. Cabe did not like the way the younger drake held his daughter so possessively. He was almost willing to swear that Grath was obsessed with her, which would be yet another thing he had failed to notice during the past several years. What have I been doing all this time? There were obviously many things he had failed to notice and realizing that now did not in any way assuage his guilt. Should this situation somehow be resolved, Cabe swore that he would be more careful . . . and more caring. How much of what Toma had accomplished might have been avoided if the warlock had not suffered from his own prejudices against drakes?

Kyl faced him again. “There isss much merit in what you sssay, Massster Bedlam, but at the sssame time, there isss much, even you will admit, to what the duke saysss. Asss emperor, I will have to make decisions on mattersss far more complex than even thisss. I mussst consider what ssserves bessst. I cannot be weak, but I cannot try to be too ssstrong, for that, alssso, hasss itsss dangers. I mussst learn to heed the advice of many,” here the heir indicated Grath, Toma, and Cabe, “but make the final choice basssed on my own evaluation of the sssituation.”

Triumph returned to Duke Toma’s expression and Cabe could not blame him for reacting so. While Kyl’s words impressed upon the warlock the fact that the drake would make a more able emperor than he had once supposed, the tone left little guesswork as to his decision regarding Toma.

“I will not bend to the Dragon Kingsss. With or without an official coronation, they mussst learn that I am emperor. They mussst accept my decisions. Lessst they think that I will have no sssupport without them, the duke hasss informed me that the legionsss of the drake confederation will act as my handsss. They are more than a match in number to any Dragon King’s army.”

At this revelation, Toma hissed in dismay. Cabe, on the other hand, found it interesting that Kyl would reveal such a secret. It was almost as if he was trying to warn the warlock.

The confederation. After the debacle with the Silver Dragon, survivors of those clans without a Dragon King had finally banded together, first slowly and then quicker and quicker as the benefits of an independent “clan” became clear. They held lands to the west and, if the rumors were true, kept on fairly good terms with the human kingdoms there. However, among the clans of their kind, they had no recognized status. The backing of the emperor, even an embattled one, would give them some recognition in the eyes of both the drake and human races.

No doubt Toma had presented it to their leaders in much that way.

Kyl looked at his brother, who appeared almost as upset as the renegade, then returned his gaze again to Cabe. He nodded slightly to the wary sorcerer. “I have made my decision. If you have no other reassson for being here, then thisss audience isss at an end.”

That suited Toma. Recovering from his consternation, he started to point at Ursa, no doubt to tell her that the warlock was to be escorted out now. Cabe, however, did not give him the chance to speak.

“You know that I can’t leave yet, Kyl. Even if I grant you all that you say, I can’t leave here without my daughter.”

Grath held Valea’s arm in an even tighter grip. Toma backed up a step. Kyl, oddly enough, did not seem put out by the demand.

“I once thought to make her mine,” he began almost apologetically. “She doesss fassscinate me, Massster Bedlam. I would have treated her like a queen.”

“But not an empress. At the very least, Kyl, as emperor you would have to take one of your own kind to be your prime mate, the matriarch of the hatching chambers.” Dragon Kings took several mates, mostly because many eggs were either sterile or were damaged before the young could hatch. Young drakes also often perished in their first several months.

“True.” Kyl stared long at Valea. There was something more than fascination in his eyes. Cabe was unnerved by the notion of the heir actually caring for his daughter.

“Give me back my daughter, Kyl, and I promise you I won’t interfere in whatever comes of your fight for the throne. Leave my family alone-make him leave my family alone-and we will remain distant.”

Toma gave him a mocking look. “I find that a-”

“I agree to your termsss.”

Duke and warlock stilled. Cabe could hardly believe his ears. Kyl was giving up one of his strongest cards so easily? Without Valea as his prisoner, his hold on the Bedlams was almost nothing. Under the same circumstances, Toma would have laughed in the warlock’s face and threatened the young witch unless Cabe and the rest of his family agreed to obey the renegade.

The differences between Toma and Kyl were becoming more and more evident with each passing moment.

Grath would have none of his brother’s promise. “Kyl, are you insssane? Give her up? I-you cannot do that! Think of what you are saying!”

Toma, too, was incensed. “Lisssten to your brother, Your Majesty! If you give up the female, what’s to ssstop the mage from trying to bring you down next?”

“His word.” Kyl, sounding a bit tired, gave Cabe a polite smile. “In all the yearsss I have known Massster Bedlam, he hasss rarely broken his word, and thossse times were not generally by choice. Thisss time, I know he will hold to his word, becaussse he truly does want peace. Ssso do I, Massster Bedlam. After all this, I mossst definitely do.” He reached a hand in the direction of the ensorcelled woman. “She isss yoursss, with no ssstrings, no tricksss, involved. I ssswear this by both my sssire and the throne of the Dragon Emperor.”

Cabe found that he believed him. It hardly seemed possible, but he could find nothing in the heir’s manner to make him suspect a ploy of some sort. Kyl wanted to release Valea to him.

Unfortunately, the emperor-to-be’s brother did not feel so. Still holding Valea by the arms, he turned with wild eyes to Toma. “He can’t do that! It would ruin everything!”

Toma was seething, his breathing an audible hiss. Yet, he restrained himself where Grath could not. In a very quiet, overly calm voice, he told the young drake, “He isss our emperor, Grath. He may do asss he pleases. Release the female from the ssspell and let her go to her father.”

Grath was aghast. He had clearly not expected such words from the duke. It was only with effort that Kyl’s brother slowly released his grip on Valea. He did not step away, however, instead continuing to stand uncomfortably close while he began to unravel the spell he had cast on her.

For the first time since Cabe had followed the drakes to the cavern, his daughter was able to act of her own accord. He expected her to come running to him, but instead, she suddenly whirled on Grath, who resembled, of all things, a forlorn lover, and slapped the drake hard on the cheek.

“That is the least you deserve!” she snapped. Ignoring him from there on, Valea turned to Kyl. Unlike her tone when speaking to Grath, the young witch’s manner was now cool yet polite. “Thank you for doing this, Your Majesty.”

Kyl’s expression shifted, indicating that he would have preferred a slap.

Moving a bit unsteadily, Valea made her way to the steps of the dais. She carefully avoided descending anywhere near Duke Toma. The drake clasped both hands behind his back in a manner reminiscent of Kyl’s earlier stance, but in the renegade’s case, it was evidently more to assure that she need not fear him trying to grab her.

As she neared the bottom, Valea’s expression finally turned to joy. Cabe could not keep the happiness from his own face.

“Father!” Valea cried as she began to hurry across the remaining distance. At the edge of his vision, the warlock caught Kyl staring directly at him. His attention was pulled somewhat away from his returning daughter. Had he not known better, he would have sworn that the drake was trying to tell him something, but it could not be what Cabe thought it was.

Valea stretched out her arms to hug him. Forgetting Kyl for the moment, Cabe opened his own arms to receive her.

“No! You cannot!”

The horrified voice was Grath’s, but he was not protesting his brother’s decision again, rather something that Toma was doing.

Cabe cursed silently for forgetting the duke even for as long as the blink of an eye. As his gaze snapped back to the renegade, something flashed in his direction.

His first thought was Toos!, despite the differences between what had happened in Penacles and what was happening now. Cabe only knew that a knife-no, the knife-was hurtling toward his daughter. Everything around him slowed as the warlock threw Valea to the ground. He knew that his shield would not hold against the ensorcelled blade. Toma would not, of course, have forgotten the original use of the object that had controlled his shaping spell. A knife was made to be used. Trust Toma to ever remember that.

Cabe tried to transport them away, but for some reason, his spell failed. He had no time to consider the reason. Cabe Bedlam now fully expected the blade to strike him and knew that, at long last, Duke Toma would have his death. The drake would not have thrown the knife if he had not been certain of the results. Cabe threw himself onto Valea and closed his eyes, wondering just what form his death would take. From a blade magicked by Toma, it would not be a painless one.

Valea gasped as she struck the floor. Cabe’s shoulder scraped against stone, but the pain was muted by the realization that he had suffered no other injury. No knife had sunk into his side.

Rolling onto his back, he discovered the sinister blade frozen in the air above him. From where it floated, the warlock estimated it would have struck him squarely in the back. The thought was an unsettling one even despite the knowledge that he had in some way escaped.

The reason for his survival stood gasping at the top of the dais. Grath, face covered in sweat, had one hand stretched toward the blade. From the look on his face, he was struggling with something. It slowly dawned on the warlock that Kyl’s brother was still battling the magical knife.

Kyl, furious, had taken a step toward Toma. “Ssso thisss isss an example of your loyalty! Ssso thisss isss a sssign of your complete obedience!”

Toma said nothing, but abruptly glanced at the dark blade.

The knife spun around and flew toward the top of the dais.

Kyl gasped and raised a hand to protect himself, but too late he realized that he was not the intended target.

Grath stared round-eyed as the blade sank deep into his chest, too stunned by the swiftness of what had happened to scream.

“Interfering little fool!” growled the renegade.

Bright orange flame enveloped the younger drake. Grath was outlined but a moment as he started to fall . . . then the knife pulled away and flew back to the claws of Toma, leaving the unfortunate drake a sprawled form on the dais.

“You . . . murdered . . . Grath!” Kyl, his eyes darting from the corpse of his brother to the knife nestled in the renegade’s hand, clenched his fists and took yet another wary step toward Toma. “I gave you sssanctuary! I protected you and thisss-”

Duke Toma gently wiped the blood from his blade. He eyed the heir and hissed. “No more gamesss, Your Majesty. Do you think that I do not know what you were planning? Have you forgotten how well I know all of you? I know how you think; I know how you plot. I saw your eyes when you ssspoke to the human. I read the truth in there.” Toma toyed with the knife. “I know just how secure my place with you would have been once she was safe in the care of the warlock.”

Cabe and Valea had risen, with the mage shielding his less-experienced daughter. Ursa joined them. Watching the duke, the warlock whispered, “Valea, get ready to transport the two of you away when I say to. We don’t dare do it until Toma’s fully occupied. Otherwise, he could easily pull you back.”

She looked astounded. “I’m not leaving you, Father!”

“We don’t have time to argue! He-”

“Hasss heard everything, Cabe Bedlam!” Duke Toma backed away from them all, the knife still at the ready. There was a strained look in his eyes and Cabe, who had already wondered about the renegade’s instability, knew that Toma had nearly reached the brink. He could no longer tolerate the slightest interference with his dreams. Grath’s death was proof of that, and now the duke had even turned on the one being who might have given him succor.

“Ssso much work for nothing . . .” muttered Toma. “So many yearsss wasted on raising an unfit hatchling for what should have been mine in the first place. I had my doubtsss time and time again, but the promissse was still there.”

Kyl worked to keep his own temper in check again. “Toma, if you sssurrender now, I will give you a jussst judgment.”

“A ‘just judgment’? With my lissst of crimes? I think not.”

It was now or never. Cabe leaned toward his daughter and whispered. “Leave! Now!”

She hesitated for a moment, but knew he was correct to send Ursa and her away. It was fast coming to the point where Toma would talk no more, and that left little other choice but battle. Valea was aware that she especially would be more hindrance against the drake than help. At least she could go for aid.

The only trouble was . . . she did not disappear. Neither did Ursa.

Toma ignored Kyl for the moment and smiled at the two humans from within his false helm. “Did you think I had not consssidered thisss eventuality? I am Toma! I led my father’s forces. I planned his campaigns! How sssimple, then, to consider the possibility that a wavering, would-be ruler would waver the wrong direction or that my foes might come to this very sssanctum! How simple, alssso, to plan ahead, come here, and leave a few sssurprises. You will not be leaving.”

Darkhorse! Cabe called in his mind. Darkhorse! I need you!

His silent cry could not go beyond the cavern walls.

“You are alone. Cut off,” Toma informed him needlessly.

“What do you hope to gain by this? You’ve lost everything already, Toma! Kyl’s offered you a fair judgment. It’s the best you can do now.”

“Not quite.” The renegade held up the knife. At first it appeared that he was going to throw it, but then Toma did a strange thing. He took the dark blade by the grip and replaced it in his belt. “There will be a terrible battle in here, yesss. Alas, only one will sssurvive. Toma will have killed the daughter of Cabe Bedlam, but the warlock and his arch foe will die together in a blaze of power that will leave few remains. Caught up in that sorcerous conflagration will also be the perhapsss not ssso trustworthy heir to the throne and the female called Ursa. Only one will sssurvive, a young lad who hasss alwaysss been more of a favorite to some of the Dragon Kingsss than his own brother.”

“What are you babbling about?” hissed Kyl. “What sssort of fanciful ssstory isss that? You have-”

The dragon heir swallowed the rest of his words as a horrific transformation took place. Toma melted, growing smaller. The massive dragonhelm crest shriveled to nothing and the helm itself pulled away. A handsome, almost human face took the place of the broad, flat visage of Toma.

Moments later, where the drake duke had been, Grath now stood. In every way, in every movement, Cabe would have sworn that it was Kyl’s brother and not the renegade.

“Did I do well, Master Bedlam?” asked Toma in Grath’s voice. An uncharacteristic sneer crossed the golden-green features. “I contemplated a masquerade like this in the beginning, but there were many reasonsss why the other path wasss better.” Toma/Grath tilted his head to one side and gave the others an innocent look. “Still, I think that I can easily fool those great drake lords. I have done so before. I’m sure that Lords Green or Blue will even give me sssanctuary when I tell them that I do not trussst my safety at the Manor. For obvious reasssons, of course.”

The knife gave him the power to create such a thorough masquerade. Cabe knew now that there had been a Benjin Traske at one time and that Toma had killed him as he had killed so many before. His present plan had merit, too, for none of the Dragon Kings, not even the Green Dragon, knew Grath well enough to see the difference. Toma had probably studied everyone of importance living in the Manor, all the better to know his enemies. The warlock was certain that, given the opportunity, Toma’s new form would fool the drakes. How the duke planned to rule through illusion for possibly the next few centuries, Cabe did not know. What he did know, however, was that if there was one creature capable of succeeding in such madness, it was Toma.

There was still one question, though. . . .

As if reading his mind, which for Toma might be possible, the false Grath added, “And surely you mussst be wondering how I plan to make all of thisss work.”

Toma blinked once. It was, to Cabe’s eyes, a very deliberate blink. Cabe felt a mild tug of the surrounding powers and recalled when the duke had earlier done the same thing.

A signal. He’s summoned someone . . . someone inside!

A peculiar, almost mournful howl echoed through the chamber from within the deeper parts of the cavern system. By the echo, whatever had made the cry was not far. A second wail indicated that it was drawing nearer at an incredible pace.

“What in the name of the Dragon of the Depthsss isss that?” whispered Kyl, so stunned he had temporarily forgotten his rage.

Toma/Grath smiled. It was a smile that told Cabe he should recognize the sound.

The warlock did. It was a cry that he had not heard since a day years ago when he and Gwendolyn had fought a frenzied Gold Dragon. It was the call of a monstrosity, a thing that should not have survived its time in the hatcheries of the drakes but somehow had. Only through a combined effort had it been defeated last time, to go fleeing deep into the vast underground system. Cabe had hoped that it had died there.

A misshapen form lumbered out of the tunnels and into the throne room of the Dragon Emperor. It caught sight of the warlock, and there and then Cabe knew that, as he had remembered it, so had the beast remembered him.

The monster started toward him, jaws wide.