Legends of the Dragonrealm Volume 2

XIII

I’ve given up my future… and for what? The imbecilic child of an outsider!

Gerrod knelt behind a ridge on the outskirts of Melenea’s domain. She could not possibly know he was so near, not if his calculations based on his brother’s work were correct. This region would be in the midst of one of the greatest instabilities existing, nearly as great as the area where the fool Dru Zeree had vanished. Already, the hooded Tezerenee had caught glimpses of a ghostly elsewhere that he knew had to be the shrouded realm intruding into Nimth. Would that his father’s so-called Dragonrealm would fully overwhelm the decaying world. Then, at least that problem would be solved.

It would still not solve the Vraad problem concerning colonizing a land that Gerrod felt wanted nothing to do with his kind… and that was likely why he had finally, in the hours since his last words with his mother, chosen to stay clear of the city. Missing the cross-over had likely cost him his life, yet he had not cared enough to abandon his plan to rescue Zeree’s daughter.

There were more reasons than that. A matter of honor probably held as much sway as his insane fear of the land beyond the veil. His progenitor had questioned his abilities, and like any good Tezerenee, he had fallen into the trap of honor. He had gone out to redeem himself even if it meant his end.

Gerrod swore under his breath. He could go around and around with his reasons, some of which even he would have admitted were complete mysteries, but that would not remove Sharissa Zeree from the ministrations of the viperous Lady Melenea.

“Masterrr Gerrod!” Beside him, crouched low, was Sirvak. The familiar was in what seemed to the warlock a constant state of frenzied anxiousness. “She could be dead! She could be dead!”

“She’s not, Sirvak. Now be quiet.” He was, admittedly, a bit uncertain himself. Things had taken much longer than he would have liked. Day, such as it was, had returned to Nimth before he was confident enough of his own plan. All of it had depended on just how well the temptress’s home was being affected by the instabilities.

“It must be as physical as possible,” he reminded Sirvak. “Trust sorcery only when needed.” Sirvak, out of necessity, had drawn first strike. It could fly. Gerrod would have to trust to small teleports and simple running.

“Understand, Masterrr Gerrod.” Eagerness suddenly flooded the familiar’s unsettling eyes. Its mistress was within the citadel. It had the help of a powerful ally, one it could trust as much as Vraad could be trusted. Gerrod could see that it would perform its task to perfection or die valiantly in the attempt.

Under former circumstances, the Tezerenee would not have feared for himself. Even Melenea had respected the clan of the dragon. With anarchy soon to erupt (if it had not already), she would have no qualms about killing both Gerrod and Sharissa. Worse yet, death might prove slow in coming. Gerrod respected Melenea’s deceit. Her citadel might be one massive trap waiting to be sprung… if his theory proved inadequate.

The shrouded images of the other realm grew more distinct. “Go now!”

Sirvak leaped into the air and was gone from sight a moment later.

The wait tore at Gerrod’s patience. His active imagination conceived of every flaw, every overlooked threat. His memories reminded him of Melenea’s past games. He shivered.

When the time finally arrived for his part, he was thankful. His mind turned to the patriarch as he rose.

“Charging headlong into the enemy. I am your son in the end, just as Mother said.”

He dared to teleport.

Sharissa woke, knowing she had slept for quite some time, but barely able to keep from falling once more into a deep slumber. She struggled against the urge, forcing herself to a sitting position.

A form shuffled near her. Through sleep-filled eyes, the young sorceress caught sight of the overwhelming form of Cabal, Melenea’s familiar. The massive blue-green wolf yawned in her direction, once more revealing to her a multitude of savage teeth.

“Mistress says for you to lie down. To rest.” Its rough voice assaulted her ears and made her head pound.

“I’ve rested long enough. It’s day outside, isn’t it?” She shifted closer to the edge of the furry bed. Doing so seemed to clear her mind more.

Cabal did not answer her. Unlike Sirvak, the wolf seemed more an extension of its mistress. What was it the creature had said to Melenea? The words were slow in coming, but Sharissa finally recalled them.

I obey knowing my life is yours or something to that effect. She frowned. Not at all a pleasant phrase. It almost indicated that Cabal expected death if it failed in its duty. Not like the Melenea that Sharissa knew.

With the wolf following every movement, she dared to stand. There was a brief instant when the sorceress thought the familiar was about to pounce on her, but it turned out Cabal was only resettling itself so that it could watch her better. Though it seemed foolish to believe anything would happen to her here, Sharissa could not help being cautious.

“Cabal? Where’s Melenea?”

“The mistress rests also. She has worked hard. You should rest, too. Sleep until the mistress comes again.”

“I’m not tired.” It was true. Now that she was away from the soothing confines of the bed, Sharissa was wide awake. It was almost as if the bed encouraged slumber.

Cabal said nothing more, but it continued to play the role of sentinel.

Sharissa wandered about the room, admiring the statuary and other items that decorated it. During her arrival, she had only given the chamber a cursory scan. Now, however, the young Zeree was able to study detail. The capering figurines at first seemed comical until she leaned forward and looked again. Up close, the expressions on the tiny faces gained a cruel twist, as if the statuettes had no desire to play whatever game it was they played. She also read new actions in their movements. Instead of dancing, it seemed more likely that they were fleeing or, at least, trying to flee. Unsuccessfully, too.

Disturbed, Sharissa turned from her inspection of the figurines and walked toward one of the windows. This one faced the direction of her own home, and though she knew seeing the Zeree dominion from Melenea’s citadel was impossible, Sharissa felt an undeniable urge to seek it nonetheless.

The heavens were one massive cloud of putrefying green that rolled and twisted within itself, seeming to gather strength in the process. A storm of gargantuan proportions was preparing to rage. The novice sorceress temporarily abandoned her initial desires and turned to better view the growing storm. Its center, she suspected, hung over the Vraad communal city. She wondered what could draw together such a force. Only an epic unleashing of sorcery could create such a magic storm. Her father’s research had taught her enough to realize that. The cross-over might be enough, but she doubted that. No, something else was happening in the city.

A tiny figure cutting valiantly through the rising winds caught her attention briefly before vanishing into the clouds. Sharissa blinked and looked again. Nimth still had wildlife, as twisted as much as the world itself, but this figure had looked familiar. Likely, she assumed after a minute or two of useless searching, it had been her own desires that had made her believe she had seen Sirvak. The familiar was lost to her. Sirvak was now a puppet of the unsettling Gerrod. The hooded Tezerenee had no doubt taken the small beast and every bit of lore her father had collected and brought them back to the patriarch as an offering. At this late stage, there was no reason for him to come searching for her; the Tezerenee hardly needed her for their cross-over.

Behind her, Cabal began to growl.

“What is it?” she asked, turning at the same time.

The familiar stood, its imposing form nearly making the sorceress gasp. Like all else she had seen after her arrival here, she had forgotten exactly how huge the beast was. It towered over her. One paw the size of her head scratched at the floor. Cabal sniffed the air and continued to growl, curling its lip back as it did. Though the familiar looked at its charge as it snarled, Sharissa knew it was not her the beast challenged.

A swift black and gold figure burst through the window, shrieking a challenge as it soared toward the sinister lupine familiar.

“Sirvak!”

A gloved hand covered her mouth. “We are here to save you from yourself, Zeree! Don’t let your pet die for the sake of your innocence and ignorance!”

Gerrod! Sharissa fought wildly, locating and kicking the Tezerenee’s shin. Startled by her viciousness, Gerrod almost released her. He cursed loudly and said something else she could not catch.

Savage cries alerted her to the battle taking place. Sharissa stared in horror as Sirvak took on Cabal. The tinier familiar looked pathetic in comparison to Melenea’s behemoth and she was filled with fear that Sirvak would be torn apart as easily as Cabal might have torn apart one of the drapes. Somehow, though, the winged creature easily dodged the wolf’s initial attack and, in fact, struck the huge beast a powerful blow to the head. Jagged scars now decorated Cabal’s left side. It roared at the insignificant little annoyance buzzing about its head.

“Don’t fight me, Zeree!” Gerrod hissed. “Think for a change!”

Sharissa ignored him and continued to struggle. With great effort, she twisted her right hand free and unleashed the quickest, simplest spell that might serve her against her would-be attacker.

The Tezerenee lost control as a brilliant flash blinded him. Sharissa pulled away immediately. She had to find Melenea. The enchantress would be more of a match for the hooded kidnapper. Sharissa knew that her odds against Gerrod could only worsen if she continued to battle him alone.

Leaving, however, proved far more difficult than she had hoped. Cabal’s huge frame blocked the doorway, and in its combat with Sirvak, it was not unlikely that the beast would accidentally crush her.

“The dragon take you, you stupid-” Gerrod’s hood had fallen back and the anger Sharissa read on his patrician visage urged her to take her chances with the doorway.

“Mistress! No! Listen to Sirvak!”

The imploring tone made her pause and she looked up at her father’s familiar… only to watch in horror as the winged creature, evidently caught up in its concern for her, forgot its own safety.

Cabal’s mighty jaws caught the smaller familiar’s right foreleg. The blue-green wolf bit hard. Sirvak shrieked in agony and quickly pulled away.

The tattered remnants of Sirvak’s leg hung uselessly. Cabal laughed and swallowed the limb.

“Good meat,” it rumbled. “Come and let me taste more.”

“You will taste your own blood!” Sirvak howled back. The wounded animal started to shimmer, a sign that it was about to make use of its own sorcery.

“Sirvak! No!” Gerrod ceased his assault on Sharissa, though she made no use of the advantage, also caught up in the struggle of the two familiars.

Cabal, meanwhile, was preparing its own magical attack. The lupine form wavered, as if not quite real. Two forces stretched out and met between the beasts. Being constructs, the familiars used the most basic sorceries in attack. Basic, but very, very dangerous. Sharissa knew that Sirvak was capable of destroying a good portion of Melenea’s home and assumed that Cabal was of at least equal ability. Despite her belief that her father’s creation now obeyed a new master, she could not help fearing for it. Wounded, Sirvak might not be a match for Melenea’s creature.

Her hesitation cost Sharissa her freedom. Gerrod caught her again, this time in a grip she knew would be unbreakable. He pulled her head back so that she was forced to look him in the eye. “Despite yourself, Zeree, we are going to save you from that witch you think is your friend! Did your father never tell you about why he demanded she never see either of you again?”

“I neither know nor care what you’re talking about!” Sharissa tried to spit in the Tezerenee’s face, but he turned her head away in time.

“You will… someday!”

“What have we here? Cabal! How did they get inside so easily?”

“Melenea!” Gerrod snarled under his breath, disgust emphasized in each syllable of the beautiful enchantress’s name.

At its mistress’s appearance, the huge familiar backed away. Its breath came in harsh gasps, as if its sorcerous battle had taken a toll not noticeable until now. Sirvak, too, looked fatigued, Sharissa noted, but that might have been from the wound that, while sealed by the winged familiar’s own powers, still must have pained it dearly.

“I’ll thank you to release my guest, Tezerenee.”

“And leave her to you? I think not. Even a naive fool like this deserves better than your tender care!”

The stunning sorceress laughed, a melodious sound that, had he not known her reputation so well, might have lessened Gerrod’s guard. “And she should trust your care? I think Sharissa knows who her friends are.” Clad in a glistening silk robe that did nothing to hide her body, Melenea strode toward Cabal, placing an arm around the blue-green wolf’s neck. “I’ve only done my best for her. I’m probably the only one who can save her father.”

“Did you find something?” Even with Gerrod’s arm around her, Sharissa forgot her predicament as visions of her father’s rescue blossomed in her mind.

“I most certainly did, Shari sweet.”

“Don’t listen to her!” the hooded figure whispered in frantic tones. “The only thing she has waiting for you is a slow and painful death after she’s done toying with you! Ask Sirvak what she’s like!”

“Ask away! Shari knows that you control the poor beast.” Melenea’s visage expressed her deep pity for Sirvak’s fate. “I’m afraid you can probably never trust the familiar again. It will have to be destroyed, I imagine.”

Sirvak squawked. “No, mistress! Sirvak is good! Sirvak wants only to protect you!”

With a speed worthy of Sharissa’s swiftest steed, Melenea reached out and pointed at the flying familiar. Sirvak shrieked in agony and started to glow blue. Sharissa gasped and struggled with renewed urgency.

“I’ll regret this; I know I will!” she heard Gerrod mutter. Suddenly she was being pushed aside by the warlock, who pointed at the writhing black and gold familiar and mouthed something. Sharissa fell against the couch she had been sleeping on and stared in amazement as Gerrod actually worked to save Sirvak’s existence. There was no reason why he should do so. Whatever knowledge her father’s creation carried could have easily been supplied by his notes, which the Tezerenee surely had access to.

“Cabal!”

At the mention of its name by its mistress, the hulking figure charged directly toward the shrouded Vraad. Caught off guard, Gerrod tried to shield himself. Sharissa, for reasons not entirely clear to her, struck even as the monstrous familiar leaped into the air, jaws wide open.

As if caught by a net that was not there, Cabal stopped in midair, struggled futilely with the nothingness surrounding it, and finally fell to the floor with a howl of frustration and pain.

The citadel shook.

“I knew it!” Gerrod stumbled toward her, trying to reach out. Sharissa remained where she was, her thoughts in turmoil. She still trusted Melenea, but the young Tezerenee’s nearly suicidal rescue of Sirvak, who could serve him no useful purpose, touched her. If there was a grain of truth in anything he had told her…

“What have you done, Tezerenee?” demanded Melenea. She fell against Cabal. The familiar somehow succeeded in regaining and then maintaining its balance, unlike Sharissa, who rolled helplessly on the carpet as the building trembled again and again.

“I only added to an overfilled pot, witch!” He groped for Sharissa, but she succeeded in steering herself away.

Though Melenea failed to understand, Sharissa did. She realized that this stronghold sat near an area that had grown unstable. Her companion had continually utilized her sorcery as if nothing had changed, as if the Vraad were still in full command of Nimth. Gerrod must have known what an effect such a concentration of power would have and how this battle would only serve to aggravate things. It was unlikely that he could have predicted the tremors so precisely, but the clever Tezerenee had probably researched her father’s work enough to know that the potential for some disaster was high.

Above her, Sirvak hovered. The beaked familiar’s wings beat slowly, barely enough to keep the creature aloft. Sirvak appeared not to notice, evidently still more concerned with its mistress and her safety than its own magical existence. “Mistressss! Are you injured?”

“No, Sirvak, I’m not!” Its concern was so genuine she could no longer believe the familiar was a puppet of Gerrod. Either Sirvak had broken free of whatever spell the shadowy Vraad had cast upon it, or it had never been under a spell at all. If the latter was the case, then much of what Melenea had said became questionable.

“Sirvak! Does Gerrod speak the truth?”

“Shari darling, you cannot-”

“He speaks truth!” the flying beast shrieked, purposely drowning out the enchantress. “She is evil! She only loves pain, mistresss! Others’ pain! That is the nature of her gamesss!”

A portion of the ceiling gave way, crashing down very near Sharissa. Reacting instinctively, she rolled away. Her maneuver brought her nearer Melenea.

“Cabal!” the enchantress shouted.

The deadly familiar suddenly stood over Sharissa, its hot, stinking breath bathing her face. She grimaced and tried to drag herself away from the stench.

The wolf laughed. “Play with Cabal!”

“No, Cabal!” Melenea commanded. “Gently!”

Twisting its visage into an expression of annoyance, the massive beast bent its head low and caught Sharissa by the arm. The jaws clamped tight, not enough to cause great pain, but enough to keep the young Zeree from daring to pull free.

“Mistresss!” Sirvak came down low, but the winged familiar dared not attack. Cabal had bitten off its foreleg with the least of efforts; it would not take much more for the huge wolf to snap Sharissa’s arm apart. Any assault by Sirvak would endanger her further.

A burst of thunder deafened the novice sorceress. As she pulled without success, she saw some of the statuettes leap off their pedestals and run off, scampering through doorways and windows before the startled Vraad. The pedestals themselves were melting.

“Bring her, Cabal!”

The familiar tried, but the floor beneath its feet had begun to grow soft, and though it did not yet impair Sharissa’s own progress, the tremendous mass of the monster was enough to make its paws sink. It growled, all the while maintaining its hold on its unwilling companion, and tried to lift one of the paws out. Sharissa ran her free hand across the floor; it felt more like soft butter than marble. Her father had warned her that this sort of thing would happen. Random waves of wild magic, the culmination of centuries of misuse. It would pass eventually, but other waves would come as the days progressed, until there came a time when the area would be forever beyond the control of anyone and nothing would be safe from change.

“Nimth’s blood!” Melenea was wiping at her arm, where the sleeve of her gown now moved of its own volition. It appeared to be attempting to envelop her hand, almost like a mouth. As Sharissa watched, the enchantress, modesty the least of her interests at this point, tore off the crawling garment and threw it to the floor, where it attempted to return to her. Melenea pointed at the gown, fury marring her perfect features. The gown froze, but the new spell only increased the general havoc being caused. The chamber began to tilt to the side.

Sharissa heard a painful crunch! and found herself falling to the floor, her arm freed from Cabal’s toothy grip. Her elbow sank into the floor, but she pulled it free, not suffering from the problems of mass that the familiar did.

Cabal was whining and growling, too maddened to see that its anger and pain were making it sink deeper. Gerrod stood just out of range of its claws and teeth, the shattered pieces of a stool in his hands and a satisfied smile on his half-seen face. While Cabal had been occupied with the task of releasing its limbs, the hooded Vraad had evidently come around the monster’s blind side and, timing his attack perfectly, smashed the wolf’s nose with the stool. It was probably the only attack that would have succeeded in releasing Sharissa without the loss of her arm.

“Mistresss!” Sirvak alighted on the edge of the couch, or what was left of it. The magically formed piece of furniture had sunk halfway into the carpet again, making it more of a lump. Sirvak carefully balanced itself on what remained, the lack of the one forelimb making it more difficult than normal. “Come, mistressss! Trussst Sirvak!”

Sharissa did… now. The beautiful gold and black beast was probably the only one she trusted. Gerrod had succeeded in raising doubts as to Melenea’s interests, but his own were just as debatable. One thing she felt certain of, however, was that Sirvak, even if the familiar had worked with the Tezerenee, was still loyal to her and her father.

“Plaything! You are being naughty!” Cabal had managed to lift one paw out of the soupy floor and was trying to reach her. Of Gerrod there was no trace, and for the first time, she feared for him. He had freed her from the horrible creature before her.

As the massive paw neared her, Sirvak flew from the couch and, paying no heed to its own safety again, attacked the limb with great relish. Cabal took an unsteady swing at the winged attacker, but the horror’s lack of full movement made it impossible for the creature to twist far enough to make contact. Sirvak backed away from the paw until it was obvious that the blue-green wolf had overextended its reach, then moved in close enough to snap at the struggling adversary.

Cabal roared in pain. The toothsome beak of Dru’s creation tore into the limb just above the paw. Sirvak ripped a chunk of flesh from its counterpart and quickly abandoned the attack before the huge monstrosity recovered. It had not been a total payback for the smaller familiar’s loss, but Sirvak’s triumphant cry spoke nearly as much about the extent of the damage inflicted as Cabal’s howl did.

Sharissa felt the floor stiffening. Things were returning to normal, such as that was. She would have to make a decision now. Either she stayed and trusted Melenea or she left and trusted Gerrod the way Sirvak seemed to. It was not a choice that filled her with anticipation. She wished her father was here to make the decision for her.

He may be dead! she berated herself. It was up to her to decide her own fate. When her father had vanished, she had let Gerrod lead her to the Tezerenee. Her first attempts at independence had consisted of refusing to share what she knew with the overbearing patriarch, Barakas. Unfortunately, just as she had been deciding to lead her own life, the young Zeree had found Melenea, someone from her childhood. She had allowed the enchantress to lead her as if Sharissa were still a small child. No more.

The crystals. I have to find the crystals! I can’t leave without them! Only Melenea knew where they were, however. Only Melenea could give her access to the crystals that might lead her to her father. They somehow held the key to passing from Nimth to the realm beyond the veil. Sharissa knew she could not leave this place without them, regardless of the danger that the enchantress possibly represented to her if Gerrod had been telling the truth.

“Damn you! Not again!”

She only barely recognized the Tezerenee’s furious voice before something struck her from behind and sent her facedown into the carpet. Sirvak called out her name.

Someone bundled her up. “We’re leaving! Now!”

Before she could protest, Gerrod brought his cloak around the two of them and started a teleportation spell. Sharissa knew she should warn him about something, but the pain at the back of her head made it impossible to recall exactly what it was that the hooded figure had to beware of. By then, it was already too late. She felt the chamber shift around them, melt away, and become another place.

“Dragon’s blood! This isn’t where I wanted to go!”

“You’re… you’re lucky to have made it at all,” she managed to gasp out. “We might have ended up in the shrouded realm… or some place even farther away!”

Gerrod’s laugh was bitter. “That might have been better for both of us! Look about you!”

“I can’t… wait… my eyes are clearing.” The blow, obviously her unwanted companion’s doing, had blurred her vision. The teleport spell had not helped matters. Fortunately, as the pain eased, her eyesight returned to normal. “Where have we… Serkadion Manee!”

“I think Father’s betrayal has angered the rest of the Vraad.” The sardonic tone in Gerrod’s voice was unmistakable.

They stood in what had once been the courtyard of the Vraad communal city, a place where only days before the race had first started to gather for the coming. It was a city now ravaged by those who had created it and who, Sharissa suspected, would likely greet a Tezerenee and the daughter of the patriarch’s supposed ally with even deadlier fury.