Legends of the Dragonrealm Volume 2

IX

IN ONE OF the many unused chambers of the vast palace, Shade returned to Talak.

This particular room had been closed down after the death of Rennek IV’s young bride, Melicard’s mother, though Shade neither knew that nor would have cared if he had known. It was a room where he would not be disturbed and that was all that mattered. Cloths, long buried under thick layers of dust, covered the furniture, blocked sunlight from entering through the windows, and hid the painful memories from the old king, who had come here once a year on the anniversary of his marriage. Melicard, while he did not follow his father’s example and pay homage here, did leave a standing order that no one was allowed to enter this room unless on his command. As it was, more than four years had passed since a single soul had stepped in here for even a moment. Ironically, Melicard, wrapped up in his campaign, had forgotten about his mother’s chamber completely.

“Light,” the warlock whispered, as if reminding himself. A tiny pinprick of light, all that he needed for now, glimmered in the center of the room.

Shade studied his surroundings but briefly. In a time long removed from the present rulers of this city-state and during one of his more benevolent incarnations, he had stayed in one of these rooms, the guest of a thankful prince whose life he had saved. The warlock smiled thinly. There had been a man who knew how to treat his betters.

Lowering himself down on one knee, the cloaked figure stretched his arms forward, as if reaching for an invisible object. He whispered words of a language long forgotten, the language of Vraad sorcery. Like the spells of the present-day sorcerers, the words were more a memory trick, a way of reminding him how the powers had to be bent by his will so that he could achieve the results he desired. He knew he had succeeded when he felt something squirm within his sleeves.

They say the walls have eyes and ears in most palaces, he thought in growing amusement. Now they will have noses as well.

A tiny, wormlike thing poked out of his sleeve. Shade felt a number of miniature legs and hands on his wrist; on both wrists. The wormlike thing proved to be a long and narrow proboscis that twisted and turned as its owner cautiously made its way out from the safety of the warlock’s sleeve. From the other sleeve, an identical trunk extended itself.

Shade said nothing, but he shook both arms lightly, stirring the creatures to renewed speed. Drones of his own making, they were prone to be lethargic at first. Given their own way, the simple creatures would remain on his arms for days, trying to draw strength from what they had once been part of. He had no inclination to let them do so. They were nothing to him, who had given them life of a sort. They were tools and nothing more.

A head popped out after the long trunk, a head that was little more than a single, wide orb that was nearly all pupil. Beneath the great eye, a pair each of pencil-thin legs and arms made up the rest of the tiny monstrosity that was the warlock’s spy. It scuttled onto the dust-thick floor, crouching, where it was joined by the first from the other arm.

The eye-creatures began tumbling out in astonishing numbers, many, many more than could have been hidden by Shade’s garments. As their numbers grew, the creatures began to wander about, inspecting their surroundings with great care, now eager to perform their function.

When he was at last satisfied with the quantity, Shade shook his arms once more, dislodging a final pair of the horrors. He rose and gazed down at his tiny servants.

“Find it,” he whispered harshly. “Do not let yourself be seen. Sacrifice yourself, if necessary. When you have located it, I will know. Now go!”

Shade watched them scuttle away in every direction, each creature quickly disappearing into the first crack or hole it could find, whether that opening had been initially large enough or not. There were other ways he could have gone about this, but anonymity was his desire for now. Let the destruction of Talak fall to his erstwhile ally, the Silver Dragon. The ensuing chaos and bloodshed would decoy those few who might be able to delay the achieving of his goal and might even rid him of a few annoyances.

The warlock thought briefly about trying to explain to Darkhorse what it was he had to do, but he doubted his onetime companion would understand. There were lives that would be sacrificed in order to correct the error that had twisted him so, and Shade was now fully prepared to sacrifice those lives when necessary. What was the loss of a few transitory souls if it would gain him his proper immortality and the power that should have gone along with it? He was Vraad and the Vraad were absolute. All else was there to do his bidding-even if that meant forcing that obedience by punishing a few. Once he had reclaimed this land…

Something glittered. Shade increased the intensity of the light a bit. The thing that had caught his attention increased by the same intensity. A reflection, which meant a mirrored surface. He walked over to the reflection and tore away the decrepit cloth, unveiling a full-length mirror embossed in silver. With the light floating behind and a little above him, the warlock stared intently at himself in the mirror.

A face stared back at him. The eyes and nostrils were dark spots and the mouth was a thin line, but it was still a face. A face that had been growing more distinct since his return to this world.

Shade put a hand to his reflection and drew a pattern across his face with his index finger.

The mirror cracked… and cracked… and cracked. Jagged lines crisscrossed the full length of the mirror. Pieces began to fall to the floor as the warlock stepped away, his face once again buried beneath his cowl.

Though the shattered mirror rained bits and pieces over the chamber floor, they made no sound as they hit. Odder still, the damage to the mirror did not stop there. Instead, those fragments that had fallen continued to crack, creating smaller and smaller parts which cracked further still. Shade watched silently, shaking, as a pile of dust formed beneath the rapidly disappearing mirror.

When nothing remained but a pile of fine ash, the warlock wrapped his cloak about him, twisted his body within himself, and vanished.

Whatever had stalked her was no more. Erini felt its passing, felt that something had disappeared that would never return. Yet, she was also positive that the force behind the misty apparition was still very much alive.

Her first thought was that this was some spy of Drayfitt’s, but the feel was not right. He was no more responsible for this than he had been responsible for the visitation in her chambers. Neither was this briefly lived specter the product of that other intruder. This was another presence, one that was somehow not quite human.

What sort of place have I come to? Magic flies left and right and, though there are high walls and armed guards, intruders go in and out with ease!

Erini had not spoken to anyone about the stranger in the mirror and she was not all that certain it would be wise to bring this encounter up, either. Again, she had no proof save her growing sensitivities-which would, of course, reveal her powers to Melicard.

Drayfitt? He knew already what she was. If his present conversation with her betrothed did not include exposing her secret, then she might be able to trust him. He had offered to help her learn to control herself… an idea with greater merit than she had originally supposed. Her initial reaction at discovering the sorcerous onlooker was to reach out with those powers and discover what it was. Only her own fear had held her back. Next time…

The princess stirred, abruptly realizing that she had been staring at the same area on the wall for several minutes. So far, no one had come by, but it would not be good to be found acting so strangely. Inhaling deeply, Erini turned and walked in the direction of her chambers. Until she came to a definite decision, it was the safest place for her to be.

As she walked, she could not help feeling that the tiny intruder had wanted something from her, something of importance. The apparition was a sacrifice on its part. Erini had felt the bond, though the fact of that was only just becoming apparent to her. Whatever its cause, the unknown presence was willing to give of itself, if necessary. That was more than most humans would have done.

So engrossed was the princess in her thoughts, she almost walked into two guards patrolling the halls. She succeeded in stepping out of the way at the last moment while they, being only soldiers, were the ones who immediately apologized. Embarrassed with herself, Erini hurried away without responding.

The chance encounter with the guards had steered her to the side of the corridor where windows overlooking the inner garden dotted the wall. Out of pure reflex, she glanced out at this one colorful place as she passed each window. At the fifth one, she froze and moved closer. The door in the far wall beckoned to her with a stronger pull than ever. In her mind, Erini felt the link between the door and the thing following her and found it amazing that she, who had wondered what might be down there, below the palace, had never stopped to think that the what might instead be a who.

Erini would have gone down into the garden then, using the very abilities she had always cursed if that was what it would take to open the door. It was a foolhardy notion, though, for the princess had no idea where the counselor was at this time and, even with sorcery at her command, she did not warm to the thought of confronting as dangerous a monster as Mal Quorin. Even Drayfitt, with much more skill, was cowed by the man.

Her fingers twitched of their own accord as she continued to stare intently at the door. Annoyed, Erini formed fists in an attempt to stifle this latest urge. This was twice now in the space of minutes. At this rate, she would soon be unable to suppress herself.

It’s like breathing, Erini thought in defeat, and I’ve been holding my breath all this time, building it up into something worse.

The door still beckoned. Biting her lip, the princess took one last, lingering look-a grave mistake. Her curiosity overwhelmed her caution. She had to see what secret the palace held, regardless of the counselor or Melicard’s desires. This would be the true test to determine whether she was to be Talak’s queen. If Melicard intended on keeping her in the dark as to his plans, then their marriage would be little more than a charade and something she would never be consonant to regardless of repercussions.

Having convinced herself of this, Erini sought out the nearest stairway leading down to the garden. All thoughts of sorcery were temporarily put aside as the anxiety of discovery replaced them. A tiny portion of her mind, buried deep within, warned her again and again about taking part in such foolishness, but Erini paid no attention to it.

The garden itself was beautiful, more so this close up. Any other time, she would have stopped to admire the lush, fragrant flowers and the thick, green bushes. Now, though, she had eyes only for the door. Erini took a quick glance around her, but there was no one else in sight. It disturbed her briefly that there were no guards in sight, but then she realized that the last thing anyone would want to do is draw more attention to the door by placing sentries near it. Unattended, it was just one more seldom-used passage not worth even a second look.

Erini felt a slight tingle pass through, but, unaware of the many abilities just developing within her, she thought it nothing more than nervousness. That delusion was quickly dispelled when a voice quietly but distinctly whispered in her ear.

“Enter there, your majesty, and I cannot promise to save you.”

She whirled, saw no one, and whirled around again. Her hands came up in an instinctive offensive gesture.

“Peace, milady, peace! If you continue twirling like a child’s top, someone is apt to wonder about your sanity-as I already do!”

The voice was Drayfitt’s, but the elderly sorcerer was nowhere to be seen. In what was more a hiss than a whisper, the princess asked, “Where are you? Can you throw your voice a distance or is invisibility a trick you’ve learned?”

“Alas, invisibility has always been beyond me… but the secret of the chameleon is not. Turn slowly, as if admiring the flowers, and look at the wall behind you.”

Following his odd instructions, Erini studied the vine-covered wall. At first, there was nothing new to see, but, as she studied it closely-a difficult task since she was also supposed to be admiring the garden flowers-Erini began to make out the shape of a cloaked figure standing at ease among the ivy and brick. His clothing and even his skin were colored and streaked in the same way as the wall, including the vines. The princess knew that if she ever hoped to see him clearly, she would have to walk straight up to him and touch his face.

“How do you do that?” Erini asked quietly. Unspoken was the second question: Why did Drayfitt feel it necessary to disguise himself if only to reveal his presence to her? Because of Quorin?

“Your majesty, if you would do an old man a great favor, I would ask of you that the two of us retire to a quieter place-such as my workroom.”

“Why?” She was not entirely certain she was safe in trusting him after this peculiar display of his magical talents.

“Because I felt your struggle to control yourself even while I conversed with the king and I know you will not be able to hide your secret much longer. That was why I came, feigning weakness from some research.”

Erini glanced wistfully at the door. “Very well.”

“Excellent. We’ve been fortunate so far in that none of the guards have happened by here, but I assure you that our luck will not hold-and some of them are more loyal to Counselor Quorin than they are to King Melicard.”

With that warning hanging over her head, Erini carefully made her way to the nearest exit. Her visible attitude was that of someone who has enjoyed the peace of a short walk but who now has become bored with matters. It was a look she had cultivated well over her short life.

Departing the garden, Erini continued to feign her disinterest in all things until she was well away. Certain that she was at last safe from prying eyes, she turned, expecting to see Drayfitt with her. The princess instead found herself to be utterly alone. Erini was about to call out his name when the sound of footfalls echoed from down the hall.

The ancient spellcaster stood before her, all smiles. “My dear princess, how nice to run into you!”

Confusion reigned supreme. “Why-?”

Her question went unasked as marching feet warned her that the two of them were no longer alone. Erini caught a glance from the sorcerer. Play along!

“I’ve just finished an interesting walk in the garden, Master Drayfitt. A pity you weren’t able to join me; we could have walked while you told me more about Talak. There is so much I still have to learn and you must know more than anyone about the city.”

Four well-armed guards turned the corner, marching with the same exacting precision that all Melicard’s soldiers seemed to march with. The apparent squad leader, a stout man with a thin, graying beard, called his men to a halt. He stepped toward the anxious princess and bowed.

“Guard leader Sen Ostlich at your command, your majesty! May I say it’s an honor then to meet with you! May we be of service to you?” He pointedly ignored Drayfitt.

This was something that Erini could handle with ease. Her face became a mask as she imperiously replied, “Nothing at this time, guard leader, but your attention is noted. Is there something you wanted of me? Has the king requested my presence?”

“Not to my knowledge, your majesty. We’re merely making our rounds. It wouldn’t have been proper to pass without acknowledging our queen-to-be. The captain would’ve had us all on double duty.” Ostlich allowed himself a rueful smile.

Erini granted him a royal smile. “Then, I shall not keep you from your duties. Carry on.”

“Your majesty.”

Bowing, the guard leader returned to his squad and gave the order to resume the patrol. The princess and Drayfitt watched them go, a sardonic smile creeping across the lined visage of the elderly sorcerer.

“How gracious of them. How curious that they purposely changed their route to march by here while you were nearby.”

“Isn’t this their regular route?”

“By no means. Oh, they’ll claim that it was changed only today-if you ask them, that is-but I’ve the distinct advantage of having seen them turn from their normal patrol because one of the other guards reported seeing you in the garden. The chameleon trick has its advantages. I saw the sentry just as you were leaving. He didn’t see me.” Drayfitt smiled, pleased with his own success.

“I wondered why you vanished.”

“Enough of that. Now that we’ve officially met in this hall and you’ve expressed your interest in Talak-an excellent request and good, quick thinking on your part-I think no one will suspect, anymore than usual, that is, that we have anything else in mind. If you will accompany me to my workroom…”

“You are my guide,” Erini answered gracefully. As Drayfitt led her down the hall, already into the beginnings of a lesson on the history of Talak, the princess looked back in the direction of the garden and the door. While she was grateful to Drayfitt for his concern for her well-being, the sorcerer’s actions had not deterred Erini but rather fueled her determination. One way or another, she would return to the garden before long and discover the truth.

Drayfitt’s workroom was not what Erini had expected of a sorcerer. She had pictured a dark, moody place of vials and parchments, bones and the various parts of rare and magical creatures. There should have been ancient tomes on subjects such as necromancy and magical artifacts from civilizations long dead.

“Looks rather like the office of a minor bureaucrat, doesn’t it?”

It was true. A high desk stood in the center of the tidy room, a set of candles and several sheets of parchment on top. There were books, countless books on shelves that ringed the room, but they were neatly stacked and fairly new. Some of them sounded fairly mysterious, but others were on classical plays or theories on government. Erini had not known that so many books on so many subjects even existed.

“Do you like them?” the sorcerer asked a bit wistfully. “I wrote most of them over the years. It’s a shame that most city-states are not like Penacles, where writing and education are paramount. I understand that a few of the copies I made are now a part of the collection gathered first by the Lord Gryphon and now by Toos the Regent. I’ve made certain that at my death, accidental, natural, or otherwise, the Regent will get this collection.”

Erini could not help smiling. “You do not remind me of what I was always told a spellcaster was like.”

“Head bowed over a cauldron, arms waving in insane motions, and sinister, inhuman things waiting at my feet for some command? Some of those things are true, and, if you know the tales of foul Azran Bedlam, those images pale in comparison to what he was like. I was never happy with sorcery. I was quite happy to find myself a little niche in the controlling of Talak and stay there.” The spellcaster’s face darkened. “Counselor Quorin insured that I would never be able to return to that and so I’ve made a special point of making him regret that action ever since.”

A twinge in Erini’s right hand reminded her of why they were here. If Drayfitt could help her or, better yet, find her a way to rid herself of this curse, then she would take advantage of it. As if reading her thoughts, the sorcerer took her hands in his and looked them over.

“Tell me, when you observe the powers around us, do you see the lines and fields?”

She shook her head. “No, I see a rainbow, bright on one end and changing to black at the other.”

“A spectrum. Pity. I see the former, myself. Well, at least you see the powers as something understandable. There are those who see them in radically different ways than we do, though such folk seem to be rare. The lines and the spectrum seem to dominate the minds of most-and before you ask, I have no idea why we see them at all. Some people discover them naturally; some, like myself, need training.” Drayfitt released her hands. “You are a natural adept. With some assistance on my part, you could become very skilled.”

Erini shook her head violently. “No! I want you to help me get rid of this curse, not enhance it!”

“Your majesty, the abilities you have are a part of you, a gift from-from whoever watches over us. It’s the spellcaster who makes those abilities work for good or ill. How else could one family produce both a fiend like Azran Bedlam and good, strong men like his father, Nathan, or his son, Cabe. I understand your feelings. For years, I lived with the memory of my brother, Ishmir the Bird Master-Aaah! I see by your face that you know of him. Ishmir perished in the Turning War with most of the other Dragon Masters and it took me years to forgive him for that.”

“Forgive him? For dying?”

The sorcerer looked chagrined. “He left me, a young man, then, half-trained, uncertain of what I was. I had your qualms, too, but Ishmir saw I had the potential, though it was buried deep. I forgave him eventually, but I kept my powers hidden, utilizing only those that would help me secure a place in Talak’s government and keep me alive-I’m a coward when it comes to death. Since my forced re-education in the world of sorcery-only a short time ago-I’ve learned much about its benefits. If not for my efforts, Counselor Quorin’s influence with the king would be much stronger. That alone I count as a reason to hone my skills.”

Erini turned away, walking over to a shelf and running her fingers along the spines of some of Drayfitt’s books. “It might be different if I were not a member of royalty, Master Drayfitt. Such things are not for us. In the eyes of my people, I would be considered tainted, a demon in human form.”

“I think the only demon is in your own mind, if you’ll pardon me for saying so, your majesty. There have been rulers aplenty who command in part through sorcery. The Lord Gryphon of Penacles is the best example. During his reign, it was his skill more than anything else that kept the Black Dragon at bay. He was even instrumental in the Turning War.”

“The Gryphon was a magical creature, Master Drayfitt. The powers were a part of him.”

The elderly spellcaster chuckled. “He may not like all this talk in past tense; he still lives, they say, but fights some war across the Eastern Seas-hence the title of Penacles’s present ruler, Toos the Regent. That is neither here nor there, however; what I am trying to tell you is that the skill to manipulate the powers is as much a natural part of humanity as it is of the elves, the drakes, and the Seekers. We merely have a greater tendency to stifle those skills. I ought to know.”

Erini slowly turned back to him, an idea forming. “Then, if you cannot help me rid myself of it, teach me how to control it so that I will never find myself ‘accidentally’ unleashing some spell at a courtier who has happened to annoy me. That is what I fear; the powers taking control instead of the other way.”

A relieved sigh. “Thank you, your majesty, for making my task easier. Had you demanded I help you rid yourself of your growing abilities, I would have endeavored to do so, despite the impossibility. After all, you are to be my queen.”

“That still remains questionable, Master Drayfitt.”

“I doubt it. One reason it was so easy for me to leave the king abruptly was because he seemed distant himself, and the look on his face I have only seen when he thinks of you-favorably, that is.”

The information earned the spellcaster one of Erini’s few true smiles. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”

“I do and it makes me happy to say it. The two of you are well matched. Though it’s only been a few days since you met as adults, I’m not above believing that a bond of love has already developed. There are those who are meant to be together. I-” Drayfitt suddenly paused, his eyes darting about the room.

“What is it?” Erini asked in hushed tones. To her horror, the sorcerer raised a hand toward her. She felt both the pull as he unleashed some powerful spell and her own instinctive response as she prepared to defend herself.

“Not you!” Drayfitt muttered at her. “Remain where you are!”

She froze in place. Behind her, the princess heard the thump of books falling from the shelves and-the patter of tiny feet? Something quick was running along the shelves, seeking a place it could hide from the spellcaster’s attack. It might as well have been running from time itself.

Erini heard a tiny squeak, then Drayfitt’s curse as something the old man had evidently not expected happened. A moment later, he lowered his arm, a look of disgust and worry on his face. He rose from the table toward the spot where the intruder had evidently met its fate.

Standing, the princess joined him. There was a strange odor emanating from the shelves and she sensed the remnants of some odd, disturbing sort of magic, something she had sensed briefly before. There was no sign of any creature.

“What was it? Did you destroy it?”

Abandoning his brief search, Drayfitt began picking up and reshelving his books. “As to what it was, I can only describe it as a little monstrosity obviously created to spy on others.” He looked at Erini. “It’s head and body were no more than an eye and a snout. A creature of magic. As to destroying it, that was not my intention. The creature destroyed itself. I wanted it alive-if it truly was-so that I could track it to its source, which is probably Quorin.”

“He has no magic.”

“Yes, you can tell that, can’t you? Probably better than I. The only reason I noticed our spy was because this workroom is laced with spells sensitive to unwanted visitors. Here, of all places, I am most secure.”

Erini hesitated before finally admitting, “I’ve felt something similar to that creature. The same sort of magic, different from you or me.”

“What? When?”

“In my-my chambers. I was looking in the mirror when I saw him. When I turned around, there was nobody there. I thought I’d imagined him, but there was dirt on the floor where he had stood and-and when I touched it, the strangeness of it startled me so much I fell back.”

Drayfitt’s eyes narrowed and he scratched his head in thought. “Can you describe him, milady?”

“Not well. He wore a cloak and hood like you do, only they seemed older, out of style.” The princess closed her eyes and tried to picture the dark figure. “All his clothing seemed a bit archaic.”

“We are not always known for our sense of style. Forget his clothing, then. What did he look like? I may know his face if you describe it well.”

She looked flustered. “I cannot help you there, Master Drayfitt. I was not able to get a good look at his face. My eyes must have been watery, because, no matter how I looked, it remained shadowy or blurry.”

“His face was unclear but you could see that his clothing was old, archaic?”

“Yes, strange, isn’t it? I remember them clearly enough, but not his visage. I think he had dark hair, perhaps brown, with a streak of silver.”

“But his face you can’t remember.” The sorcerer pursed his lips in mounting frustration. “I wish-I truly wish, milady-that you could have given me a face to go by.”

Erini could sense his worry. “Why? Who was it? Is it whoever you hide down below? Did he escape?”

Drayfitt gave her a dumbfounded look. “Soooo… you know about that, too. This gets worse and worse.” He looked up at the ceiling, staring at something beyond it with eyes filled with dismay. “Aaaah, Ishmir! Would that you were here instead of me!”

“What is wrong, sorcerer?”

He went to the desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a bottle caked in the dust of ages. Without asking whether the princess desired any, Drayfitt poured himself a goblet of what must have been wine and practically swallowed it in one gulp. Eyeing the shelves of books, he finally replied, “The one you described can only be the warlock Shade, who can only be here for two reasons; the first of which is caged deep below in a chamber forgotten until recently. Another creature of legend, a shadowy steed called Darkhorse.”

“Darkhorse?” While everyone knew one tale or another concerning the tragic existence of Shade, forever cursed to live alternating incarnations of good or evil, it was the demon known as Darkhorse that had fascinated the princess more. Here was a magical creature from elsewhere, immortal, and the terror of drakes. Some stories made him as tragic as the warlock and there were many who feared him as much, but the image of a great stallion, blacker than a starless night, had captivated her. She had even dreamed, now and then, of riding through the darkness on his back.

A legend and a reality were two different things. The thought of riding whatever Drayfitt had imprisoned down below made her shiver-and not in anticipation.

“Darkhorse.” The sorcerer nodded. “They have been friends and enemies for millennia. Yet, if he wanted the stallion, he could find him easily. There’d be no reason to materialize haphazardly in the palace unless he was searching for something better hidden, something like the book.”

“What book?” Erini was becoming more and more confused.

Drayfitt sighed. “The book I used, half in ignorance, to summon a demon, or rather Darkhorse, to our world. A book he tricked me into destroying when he thought I wouldn’t be able to recapture him again.” The elderly spellcaster smiled a bit proudly at that; it had been a coup in ways, defeating the eternal twice. Then, he frowned. “I hope it’s not the book he’s after, though I can’t think what else it might be.”

All thought of her own problems had long ago vanished as Erini tried to make sense of everything. She had wanted answers for so long, but now that she had them, the princess was more at a loss than before. “Why do you say that? Is it something he should not have?”

“Probably not. That’s academic, I’m afraid, your majesty. As I said, I destroyed it. He’ll find nothing but ashes now.”

In a darkened corner of the ceiling, a small form scurried deep into a crack that should have been too tight for it. The sacrifice of its brother had proven worth the cost, for it had discovered what its master had wanted to know. Soon, it would be able to return to the warm nothingness he had summoned it from. Perhaps even as soon as it relayed the news to him.

Shade’s eye-creature did not understand how its master would react to this particular bit of news. It would not be able to comprehend the fury nor would it comprehend that the warlock would destroy it, not because it had served him well, but because of a need to strike out at someone or something.

Least of all, it would not understand the danger the success of its mission had placed the sorcerer and the princess in. Nor would it have cared.