Legends of the Dragonrealm Volume 2

VIII

Among the celebrating Vraad, enmities began to spill over the mental dams in what could best be described as the first forerunners of one massive flood of hatred.

Gerrod noted it first in a Vraad called Lord Highcort, a pretty man bedecked in huge, glistening baubles. Highcort wore rings on each finger and was clad in a robe of majestic purple, giving him the appearance of some jaded monarch. The object of his wrath was a female who had once been his mate, or was it twice? She wore nothing but a multicolored streamer of light that occasionally revealed her charms for the briefest of times. Her hair hung low over her face, almost obscuring her eyes. She was presently taller than Highcort, though that could change depending on their moods. What her name was, Gerrod could not recall.

Highcort had evidently had no such trouble finding names for her. The last was the least in a long line that had initially alerted Gerrod to the argument down in the courtyard. “Minx! I grow annoyed at your toying! If you will not cease your diatribes, then I will have to remove the troublesome tongue that makes them!”

“You’ve been trying to remove that tongue for years, Highcort! What’s the matter? Have I struck so close with the truth that you cannot take it anymore?”

The male gritted his teeth. A haze started to form around him, first simply a cloud, then a whirlwind that began circling around.

What the woman was doing, Gerrod had no idea, but he could sense her own powers at work.

Just as the two were about to strike, a pair of dragon riders materialized above them. Both Vraad turned their attention skyward, knowing where the more dangerous threat lay.

“What is it? What goes on?” His father’s booming voice pulled the hooded Tezerenee from the window. Gerrod found he was disappointed that the combatants had not been allowed to continue. At least the others would have been thoroughly entertained and the mutterings would have ceased for a while.

“We can’t mislead them for much longer, Father. The feuds are starting to brew anew.”

The Lord Tezerenee was presently hunched over charts and notations that Gerrod and Rendel had made concerning the passage over to the Dragonrealm. Barakas absently stroked the head of the small wyvern perched on his armored shoulder as he digested both what lay revealed before him and his son’s warning.

Reegan, ever a champion of the head-on charge, slammed a mailed fist onto the table and, ignoring the splintered remnants where his hand had gone through, said, “They should be brought under control, informed of who is in command here! If they knew their true standing, they would abase themselves before us and beg for a place in the new kingdom!”

Gerrod had had enough foolishness. The words escaped his mouth before he considered that he was turning attention away from his brother and back onto himself. “A kingdom we can no longer promise to deliver to them!”

His father jerked straight, causing the wyvern to flutter off in shrieking panic, but the Lady Tezerenee, standing to his left and just behind him, put a steady hand on his shoulder.

“Hush, darling. Gerrod is correct. The thing to do now is recoup our losses and see if we can salvage some sort of victory.”

“I would rather recoup the heads of Ephraim and his band.” Barakas took a deep breath, which threatened to exhaust the air supply in the room, and calmed himself. He turned away from Gerrod, who let out a silent sigh, and focused on one of the coven assigned to monitor Rendel’s passage. They had given up trying to keep the body alive; it had passed away shortly after the initial news that the cross-over itself was in danger. “Esad! How many golems remain?”

The newcomer knelt instantly. “Father, there are some two hundred plus golems ready. That is the best we can say at this point.”

“Acceptable.” Barakas scratched his chin. “More than enough for us to cross over and still have some left for those we deem our allies. As for the rest”-he shrugged uncaringly-“they, being mighty Vraad, should be able to fend for themselves.”

Which still did not answer the initial questions raised earlier, Gerrod thought bitterly. What had actually happened to Ephraim and those of the clan whose task it had been to create and shape the golems? Those shells were to act as the Vraads’ receptacles when their kas passed across to their new domain. When it was reported that they had not responded to a summons, the Lord Tezerenee himself had gone out to find the reason why. All they had found were the pentagram etched in the dead soil and a few minor items that individuals in the band had carried with them. There had been no sign of a struggle and no misty apparition marking an intrusion by the other domain.

The patriarch was of the opinion that the band had somehow crossed, abandoning their bodies in some well-hidden cave so as to delay discovery of their deed. It was possible to create a lifeline of sorts that would enable the kas of each of them to cross, down to and including the last man. Such a task would require the first arrivals to remain linked mentally with those to follow. It was that part of the plan that Rendel had abandoned earlier.

“It is settled, then.”

The gathered Tezerenee, mostly the combined sons and daughters of the lord and lady, grew silent, whispered conversations dying in midsentence. When no one else dared to ask, Gerrod took the burden onto his shoulders, as it always seemed he did, despite a continuing lack of gratitude on the parts of his siblings. “What is settled, Father?”

Lord Barakas glared at his son as if Gerrod had turned into an imbecile. “Pay attention! Our course is settled! We begin transferring over to the Dragonrealm before this day is over. I will summon those who will join our ranks. The announcement will go out that they will be but the first, overall order being done by lottery.”

“They will never believe that.”

The patriarch gave his son an imperious glare. “They will believe that because I will stake the bond of the dragon on it.”

So it had come to that, the younger Tezerenee marveled with distaste. The fine line of honor!

In truth, his father could not be said to be lying, for lottery was to have been the original system, albeit with a few strings. The supposedly random pattern of who would depart first had been first suggested by Rendel. Gerrod’s elder brother had reminded them that no Vraad felt they should come second to another. The lottery, with a promise that no influence would be made when the names were chosen, had subdued many arguments. What the other Vraad did not know, however, was that only certain names went into the first batch. Those were the ones Barakas knew could either be turned or bullied into submission. The rest would have eventually found themselves offering up their own wills in return for survival.

With the rampant displays of Vraad sorcery going on even now, Nimth would not last half as long as had once been supposed. The Vraad, certain of their continued existence, assumed that there was no reason to hold back and were celebrating accordingly.

Gerrod, his mind on such thoughts, abruptly found his air cut off and his body being dragged by some invisible force around his neck toward his father. The Lady Tezerenee gasped, but that was the only sound other than Gerrod’s futile attempts for breath.

“You are proving yourself to be quite inadequate, my son,” the patriarch said in the smooth voice that unnerved all, especially those for whom his words were intended. “I left you to organize the transfer. Its control escaped you. I left you to organize the creation of the golems, our hope for the future. Control of that escaped you as well. I placed the young Zeree female in your hands… and now she has run off to her father’s citadel, no doubt.” The spell holding Gerrod ceased, leaving the younger Tezerenee to gasp in precious air. “You constantly question my wisdom when you cannot trust your own.” Barakas turned from him to his bride. “I have done all I can with our son. If he cannot redeem himself, there are others willing to take his place once the cross-over commences.”

Lady Alcia started to protest, but noticed something in her husband’s eye that warned her to remain quiet.

Barakas took her arm and started to lead her out. As the two departed, the patriarch calmly commanded to those behind him, “Begin the transfer. Reegan, you control it.” The Lord Tezerenee gave Gerrod one last withering glance. “As for you… find out what the Zeree hatchling has in mind that she first holds back information and then sneaks off to the protection of her father’s domain. If you manage to succeed, there will still be a place for you.”

Gerrod nodded, keeping his visage composed since his father’s sorcerous reprimand had knocked the hood back. Deep inside, however, he seethed. His progenitor was insane, highly so, though there were none here who would back up such a notion. Each of the “failures” mentioned had hardly been the fault of Gerrod, yet it was on him whom the iron hand of Barakas had fallen. Simply because he would not be one of the clan. How Rendel managed all this time, the young Tezerenee could not say, but he now understood that there might have been many reasons Rendel had chosen to abandon them.

When the lord and lady of the clan had departed, Reegan regained his nerve and began giving orders. Most of them were more apt for going into battle than organizing the cross-over, but he had been given control of the plan and there was nothing Gerrod could do about it. With his eldest brother in charge, though, he wondered whether any of them would make it across.

He began to wonder again if he really wanted to cross at all.

It was a ridiculous thought. Here, he only faced death. In the realm beyond the veil, there was a chance for survival. Even despite his feeling that colonizing the so-called Dragonrealm would not prove so simple as his father had thought, it was better than remaining here and watching Nimth simply rot away over the centuries. He would not even survive long enough to see its end.

That in mind, Gerrod drew his cloak about him and departed from the domain of Dru Zeree.

In the selfsame castle that Gerrod sought to reach, Sharissa berated Sirvak. The familiar crouched before her, pitiful but still unremorseful about its actions.

“You disobeyed me, Sirvak! How many times do I have to tell you before you understand that?”

“Understand, mistressss! Only obeying master’sss ordersss! No one but you to enter here!”

“Father isn’t here! I’m trying to save him and she can help!” Sharissa waved a hand in the direction of a bemused Melenea.

“Calm yourself, sweet thing,” Melenea said soothingly. “I’m certain Sirvak meant well. You cannot expect it to so easily disobey an order given to it by Dru. After all,” she added, smiling at the nervous familiar, “it has a limited imagination, a limited mind.”

Sirvak dared a hiss at the intruder. Sharissa would have been dumbstruck if she knew all that the beast struggled with in that “limited mind.” Powerful as it was, the familiar was next to nothing to Melenea now that she was inside. With the defenses of the citadel behind it, Sirvak could have matched her and more. Inside, however, the familiar faced her with only its own abilities. Sirvak feared for Sharissa’s life if it dared reveal what it knew of the enchantress. From experience, the winged beast knew that Melenea would not hesitate to kill both of them. Sirvak could only wait and hope.

Dru was greatly to blame and even the familiar would have acknowledged that. Unwilling to reveal to his daughter any more than he had to about his past indiscretions, he had forbidden the familiar from speaking of those like the beautiful but dark sorceress. That command had now come back to haunt them. Sirvak hissed again, not so much at the enemy before it but at the unfortunate beast’s own inability to protect its charge.

Sharissa, unmindful of the mass confusion in the beast’s mind, stared it back into silence. “No more! You said you had something for me, something that might help us find Father! What is it?”

The creature looked from its mistress to the hated one and back again, frustration written across its odd visage.

“Sirvak, this is Father’s life we’re talking about!”

Reluctantly, the familiar told her. “The crystalsss. All information liesss in the crystalsss. Can predict when rip will open again, perhapsss.”

It was obvious that the creature was uncertain and the idea did not sit well with Sharissa, either. Melenea watched them both, waiting, it seemed, for some explanation. Sharissa realized that her friend did not know about the spell her father had cast and explained it, going into careful detail as to how the crystals recorded images and sorcerous energy so that Dru could later study those memories at his leisure.

Melenea was fascinated. “Dear wonderful Dru! I always knew he was a brilliant thinker! So much potential in this! Do you realize the advantages this could give one over rivals?”

Sharissa had never considered that point but could understand how gaining knowledge of the magical patterns of both Nimth and what the Tezerenee called the Dragonrealm could teach a sorcerer ways of better utilizing the natural power. That was hardly a consideration now, however.

“What Sirvak says is true,” Sharissa replied, forgetting Melenea’s comment. “The crystals might lead us to another tear, another intense appearance by the shrouded realm. It might even show us a way to travel there with little danger.”

The other Vraad’s eyes glowed, a sight that Sharissa found both fascinating and disturbing. She had never seen such a sight before. There was so much that Melenea could teach her…

“Shari darling, you may be correct! Wouldn’t that turn Barakas’s beard around? He’d be livid if he found out, you know.”

It was a confirmation of everything the younger female had thought of already. She knew she could not allow the Tezerenee to know the truth, no matter how much aid they were capable of giving her. With Melenea to help guide her, Sharissa was certain they could do it on their own.

“Why don’t you show me the crystals, sweet thing?” Melenea put a comforting arm around her shoulders. Sharissa took heart from the moral support.

Sirvak chose the moment to raise its head and cry out at something unseen. “Warning, mistresss! Someone stands without the bordersss of the master’sss domain!”

“Let me see.” Melenea withdrew from Sharissa and, as the young woman watched, stared blankly into space for a short time. When the eyes focused again, Melenea smiled wryly. “It’s your cloth-covered shadow. He’s trying to find a way around Dru’s defenses.”

“Gerrod?” They suspect, Sharissa thought in panic. Then she realized that they could not. No, Gerrod was here for the simple reason that his father had likely thrown it upon him to drag her back. Again, she felt sympathy for his plight, but not enough to give herself up. “He can’t get in. Father planned the defenses too carefully.”

Melenea was thoughtful. “If this were that mountain Reegan, I might be inclined to believe you, but this Gerrod has a sharp mind… a treacherous one. He might be able to outthink a series of spells.”

“Not if Sirvak is also monitoring things.” Sharissa turned back to the familiar. “See to it that he does not gain entrance.”

The magical creature looked upset, looked as if it wanted to say something else, but it finally bowed its head in obedience and simply replied, “As you say, mistresss.”

“Go now! What are you waiting for?”

With much hesitation, the familiar rose slowly into the air and, looking briefly at Melenea with an unreadable expression, flew off.

“Where is it going?”

“There’s a tower it uses for a roost. Sirvak prefers to observe from there.”

“It has preferences? How odd to find so much personality in a familiar! I’d forgotten! Still, Dru did create it, so it shouldn’t surprise me so much!”

Sharissa smiled at the compliment, then pointed at a hallway to her left. “This way. We bypass Father’s iron golem.”

“Then let us go. Let Gerrod hammer away until he exhausts himself.” The other Vraad made as if to teleport. When nothing happened, she tried again. It was only then that the young Zeree recalled the earlier troubles she and her father had suffered.

“The rift was near here. It makes some spells more difficult. We finally found it easier to just walk. I think Father actually grew to like the physical activity.”

“Did he?” Melenea sounded quite the contrary, but she finally shrugged. “I suppose it could be novel for a time. Very well, then. Lead on, Shari sweet.”

Sharissa found herself talking incessantly. There was something about having another woman to talk to that allowed her to say things she would not have spoken of even with her father. Melenea seemed so interested, too. Adding a point here or there and listening very attentively when the younger Vraad spoke of her mother.

“Father says I look like she did when they first met. I don’t know if that means anything; everyone keeps changing their appearances so. I don’t remember her. She died in some duel. It seems like such a useless way to die.” Sharissa looked at her companion. “I know I sound uncaring, but I’m not. It’s just that it was so long ago and I hardly knew her in the first place.”

An arm pulled her near the other woman. “I understand. The thing to do is harden yourself to the trials of life. To make everything, no matter how sad, into some sort of game. It is the only way to keep going after the initial four or five centuries. I have found life so much more fulfilling since I began looking at it that way.”

“A game?” Sharissa had difficulty with imagining all that had happened in the past few days as part of a game, but Melenea had the centuries of experience backing up her claim. Perhaps when this was over-if it was ever over-Sharissa would try to take her advice.

They came upon Dru’s inner sanctum. The two attempted to enter, but something refused to give them leave.

“I don’t understand this!” The young Zeree stepped forward and put a hand out. She met with no resistance and kept walking until she was completely inside. Melenea also put a hand out, but hers was repelled. Annoyed, she put the hand to her hair and tugged on one of the locks tracing her cheekbones.

“One of Dru’s safety precautions, lovely Shari,” the enchantress commented. Her smile was a bit forced.

“I’m so sorry!” Reaching out with her mind, Dru’s daughter disrupted the spell long enough for Melenea to walk through. “I grow so used to them that I sometimes forget, though I think this must have been a new one. It’s keyed only to Father and me and follows the changes in Nimth that I discovered before… before Father went out and…”

Again, Melenea was there beside her, giving comfort when it was needed. Sharissa wondered why she had stopped coming years ago, but did not dare ask. It was almost like having a sister-or even a mother-and she did not want to break the bond they had been forming.

“Oh, darling Dru! This is fabulous!” The comforting arms pulled away without ceremony as Melenea moved quickly toward the far side of the chamber and the glorious spectacle of the magical crystals. She eyed each and every one separately, it seemed to Sharissa, mouthing silent comments about the patterns and colors. The elder woman knew much about the use of crystals, that was evident. Sharissa’s hopes flamed higher; while she understood much of what her father had taught her, there were many things she suspected he had not thought she was ready for. Perhaps Melenea knew what to do.

After several long, agonizing minutes, the enchantress said, “The phantom lands… the shrouded realm as Dru called it; it affects the nature of Nimth, does it not? More so, I mean, than was assumed earlier.”

She did understand! Sharissa nodded rapidly, adding, “It has intruded in some places so much that like the ridge, no one can predict how sorcery will work. That was why Father waited so long before he tried to teleport away.”

Melenea nodded in turn. Sharissa had explained this to her earlier; had gone through each agonizing moment again and again. It had hurt her deeply to relive that time, but the other woman had insisted that she needed to know exactly what had happened.

“I wonder…”

“What?”

The enchantress shook her head. “Nothing. Idle thoughts, sweet one.”

Sharissa came over and pointed at the additions she had made. “There’s where I had to alter what Father had created.”

“That pattern should not be possible,” Melenea breathed in astonishment.

“Father said the same thing, but when he looked close, he saw that the other realm was intruding into our own. That was what sent us out to the ridge and…” She trailed off.

“Don’t trouble yourself with that anymore.” Circling the astonishing panorama once more, Melenea smiled. It was a smile unlike the others Sharissa had seen. This smile denoted satisfaction, great satisfaction. She wondered whether the enchantress had indeed discovered a way to recover her father.

“I think, pretty Shari, that you should add something here.” A thin, elegant finger pointed toward the very center of the spiral. “And here.” The finger now pointed toward a spot near the ceiling.

“Are you certain?” The locations that Melenea pointed to were certainly open to stable additions, but their purposes escaped the younger Vraad.

The brilliant smile banished her fears. “Oh, yes, Shari! We don’t dare go on until you add crystals to those two points.”

“All right.” Sharissa walked over to a case on a worktable. The lock spell protecting it was one she knew, having opened it often in the past. The case itself was wooden, with intricate scrollwork. Dru Zeree’s mark was upon it, emblazoned in the center. This was where he kept the crystals he used in his work.

“I-” She was about to tell Melenea that she knew neither the size nor the color of the proper crystals, but then another mind entered hers, interrupting her chain of thought.

It was Sirvak. Mistressss, Tezerenee Gerrod departss.

So soon? That did not sound like Gerrod. Are you certain?

There was a moment of hesitation, which Sharissa took as the familiar’s attempt to confirm its own statement. The Tezerenee is nowhere outside, mistressss. I have protected home asss best asss I deemed posssible.

It was a peculiar way to put it, but she understood. Keep vigilant, though, Sirvak. He may try to gain entry again. Do what you have to in order to protect the castle. Father’s safety relies on you.

I do what I mussst, mistresss. Mistresss, I cannot enter the master’ss sanctum.

If I need you, I’ll let you in. It would be too time-consuming for now, Sirvak, and there’s no need. Father’s darkdwellers will assist with the work, if necessary. The darkdwellers were creatures of shadow that lived in the rafters above. They acted as extra hands for Dru when he experimented.

They are weak, mistresss, I-

That will be all, Sirvak!

I do what I must for the master and you, mistressss, Sirvak repeated again before breaking contact.

Sharissa briefly wondered at the last statement, not so much because of the words but the tone that Sirvak had used. The gold and black beast had sounded almost fatalistic.

“Shari, sweet thing?”

The crystals! “Sirvak linked with me, Melenea! Gerrod has departed, likely back to the Lord and Lady Tezerenee.”

“Has he now?” Melenea smiled thinly. “Watch him, Shari. He is likely the most devious of them. You cannot trust his words or his actions at any time.”

It fit with the way Sharissa had pictured the hooded Vraad. Gerrod was both a Vraad and a Tezerenee. What could be a worse combination?

“The crystals, Sharissa dear.” The enchantress tugged at one of the locks of hair following the line of her cheekbones. She seemed to be holding back a building excitement within her. Sharissa took that as indication of their eventual success. It made the need for proper crystals even more urgent.

“Which ones do you need?”

“Any will do.”

Sharissa’s head jerked upward and she stared at the other Vraad. “But the size and color! You can’t just put anything in there! You might destroy Father’s work and then we’d never be able to find him!”

With swift strides, the magnificent sorceress devoured the distance between them and took hold of her younger counterpart by the shoulders. The grip was perhaps a bit stronger than Sharissa would have liked. “Shari, dear little one, I know the workings of the crystals. Don’t you worry. Here.” Melenea took out two of the larger ones, a blue and a clear. “You need not worry. These two will do just fine.”

While Sharissa watched, still uneasy about the carefree choices, the enchantress returned to the brilliantly illuminated artifact and quite casually tossed the two new crystals into the center. Propelled by her power, the blue one immediately shot ceilingward. The clear crystal, meanwhile, struggled against the spiral pattern, which seemed to resist its addition with an almost living determination. Supported by Melenea’s will, however, the clear gem soon overcame opposition and took its place within the structure of the one spiral.

Her own additions had made perfect sense to her father once he had inspected the final results, but the younger Zeree, even after several seconds of careful study, could not comprehend what purpose these new pieces served. She said as much to Melenea, who gave her a smile that warmed Sharissa so because of the care that she read in it.

“It will become obvious over time. I promise you that. Now, there’s just one more thing. I’d like you to remove the crystals that would contain knowledge of the sighting where poor Dru vanished.”

That was easy enough. Happy to be once more an active part in her father’s rescue-and happy to understand what she was doing this time-Sharissa joined Melenea by the artifact. With deft skill, she summoned forth the magical gems in question, smiling as they broke away from their positions and fluttered to her waiting hand. While that went on, she brought forth replacements from the protective case. The newcomers fit into the places vacated by their predecessors with perfect ease.

Her skill earned her the praise of her friend. “How wonderfully deft you are, Shari sweet! Had I a daughter of my own, I could not be so proud as I am of you! Dru has raised you so well!”

Sharissa blushed deeply under the barrage of compliments from someone who was not her father.

“Now,” Melenea added, holding out one smooth, pale hand. “Give me the crystals and we can be on our way.”

“‘On our way’?” Sharissa almost dropped the gems. “Where are we going?”

Taking the younger woman’s hand in her own, the enchantress replied, “This is best done back in my own sanctum, dear love. I have methods I doubt Dru even knows… and I think you would be quite a bit safer there if blustery Barakas sends Gerrod back with a few more of his endless supply of relations. You see what I’m talking about?”

Sharissa did. No one really knew that Melenea was aiding her. The Tezerenee would hound her father’s castle, wasting time in which the two women could study the crystals’ findings. It made perfect sense to her and once more Sharissa was grateful for having the help of so good a friend as the caring enchantress.

“There are notes Father compiled that we’ll need. He has them in his private chambers, but I’ll be able to get them easily enough.”

“That’s fine. While you do that, I’d like the opportunity to inspect this chamber for anything else of importance to our goal.” Melenea squeezed Sharissa tight for a brief time. “Soon, you’ll see Dru again!”

Separating, Sharissa rushed from the room, the quicker to retrieve her father’s work and return. Her mind had slipped from the present moment to her eventual reunion with her father. It was because of those dreams that she passed the shadow without noting how it differed from the rest.

“Sharissa.”

She stumbled and fell back against one of the walls, disbelieving what she had heard. Her eyes scanned the corridor behind her, at last sighting the shadow that was no shadow.

It unfolded before her, revealing what she had known but had hoped was only her panicked imagination.

“Gerrod!”

“Zeree, listen to me! Sirvak tells me that-”

Sirvak! The familiar had betrayed her? How was that possible… unless Gerrod, cunning as Melenea had said, had somehow overwhelmed the beast’s mind, making it a creature of his. “Stay away from me, Tezerenee!”

“Little fool! Your father protected you too well! You have no concept of what Vraad mentalities are like! If you only-”

Sharissa, taking advantage of his pontificating, rushed past him back in the direction of the chamber where she had left Melenea and safety. Not expecting such bold, nonmagical action from her, likely because he assumed her a weak, sobbing child, Gerrod was caught by surprise. His reflexes, a product of his upbringing, were exceptional, however, and he barely missed grabbing hold of her arm.

“Sharissa! No! Come back! Talk to Sirvak!”

She paid him no mind, knowing that the familiar would puppet the hooded Vraad’s words. Her only hope, she decided, lay in Melenea and escape from the castle.

As she reached the doorway, through which Gerrod would not be able to touch her, she felt a tingling in the air around her. The Tezerenee was casting a spell. Without caring where she landed, Sharissa leaped into the room.

“Melenea, I-”

“Shari! Call these vermin off of me!”

The darkdwellers, little more than rags of darkness, flittered about the enchantress, moving in on one side to strike at her as she attempted to defend the other. A few marks on the floor spoke of those who had met their fate at Melenea’s hands.

It made too much sense to Sharissa’s distraught imagination. Through Sirvak, Gerrod must now control the darkdwellers, too. The citadel was no longer secure; even this room, where she thought to have a chance to think, was threatened by the Tezerenee.

“Sharissa!” Gerrod stood at the entranceway, pushing futilely at the barrier. How long that would last, she had no idea. Trying to ignore the threat behind her, she turned her attention to her friend. At her presence, the ebony creatures flew away, reluctant but obedient to her will. The younger sorceress did not question her luck, wishing only to see if her companion was injured or not.

Several scratches marred the ivory skin of Melenea, but the enchantress ignored them, choosing instead to grasp Sharissa’s wrist painfully and pull her closer.

“We leave now! Hold on to me!”

“Zeree! You can’t trust-”

The remainder of Gerrod’s words were lost as the castle ceased to exist around them and Sharissa suddenly found herself in what could only be the domain of Melenea.

Failurefailurefailurefailure…

Gerrod struggled against the mad panic of Sirvak’s mind. The beast had lost control the second its mistress had departed with Melenea. Even as he forced the familiar back to a state of sanity, he himself could not help fearing for the young Zeree. Gerrod was not fond of her, but no one deserved the ministrations of the enchantress… save perhaps Reegan, who would have likely reveled in them.

Sirvak! Listen to me!

He had succeeded in convincing the familiar that an alliance with him was the best hope. The familiar’s fairly quick agreement had stemmed mostly from its knowledge of the Lady Melenea. It was a case of the enemy of my enemy… Whatever the reason, they had hoped to catch Sharissa at a time when she would be willing to listen. Gerrod himself felt bitter about the failure, for that had been strictly his own fault. It called to mind what his father had said earlier and he now began to question the truth of that reprimand.

In the end, it likely did not matter. Gerrod had failed at his task and he could not go back empty-handed. Now, Dru Zeree’s theoretical pathway to the shrouded realm was looking to be his only chance for survival. When the Lord Tezerenee hinted that he would leave a body behind, it was not a jest.

Failure… The familiar was much more calm now, but it still was in no condition to aid in planning. That would fall to Gerrod again.

Though he could not enter the chamber, he had spied upon its occupants for a short time. Sharissa had mentioned Dru’s earlier work involving the sightings and the binding forces of the two worlds. Perhaps there lay the key.

Sirvak! He treated the familiar as he would have treated one of the wyverns back in the clan’s domain. The winged creation responded as if its own master had summoned it.

Listen to me closely, he began, and we may yet save your master and mistress… not to mention myself. He added the last slowly, knowing it was all too true. This is what I think we must do…