Legends of the Dragonrealm Volume 2

XIV

Barakas, Lord and patriarch of the Tezerenee, the clan of the dragon, gazed at what would be the beginning of his new empire. Gone were the ways of old Nimth, when he had been forced to share the world with so many arrogant and maddening outsiders. Now, only a handful of outsiders remained, all manageable. Most of those were female, too, for the patriarch knew that to start any new civilization required new blood. He had kept his clan to certain numbers because of the restrictions of space in Nimth. That was no longer necessary.

“Those mountains over there.” He gestured at the same peaks Rendel, days ago, had set out for. “I want them explored.”

Reegan looked abashed. “We have no flying drakes and our powers work haphazardly, sire.”

“Do not state the obvious with me, Reegan. I have trained you to do what you must to obey my commands. See to it that what I say is done.” Though Barakas almost looked peaceful, his eldest son, reading into the patriarch’s eyes, bowed quickly and rushed off to see what suggestions some of his brethren might have.

Lady Alcia, stepping away from a conversation with someone who was either a daughter or a niece-Barakas felt it unnecessary to try to keep track of all of his people as long as they did what they were told-joined her husband as he surveyed the fields and forest around them.

“You seem flushed with excitement,” she murmured.

“I have a world to conquer. I have my people to obey me. What more could one ask for?”

“Your son?”

Barakas looked at her in distaste. “Which one, my bride? Rendel, who betrayed us once he was on this side of the veil, or Gerrod, who failed to do anything I asked of him?”

“I can’t say anything concerning Rendel, but Gerrod did as he was commanded. You never paid attention to that fact, however. It may interest you to know that I ran across Gerrod before I returned from our old keep. Even though time was running out, he was determined to find Dru Zeree’s daughter, as you commanded, despite the fact that he believed she was a ‘guest’ of Melenea.”

“I waited as long as possible, Alcia. You saw how they were acting. Any longer and we might not have crossed in time.” The patriarch’s attention wandered to where Lochivan was trying to look busy. He still feared his father’s wrath, though there was nothing he or the others could have done to prevent the disappearance of the golems. That had been Rendel’s province. “Lochivan!”

“Father!” Despite the fear, the Lord Tezerenee’s son rushed to his side and knelt. “You have a task for me?”

“This will be our initial camp. Begin expanding our perimeter. We need drakes, too. If you-”

Both Lochivan and the Lady Alcia looked at the patriarch, curious as to why he had stopped speaking.

“There!” Barakas pointed a finger at one of the nearby treetops. A horrible, agonized shriek filled the ears and souls of the assembled Tezerenee, all of whom turned to stare in the direction of the cry as if mesmerized by the strident sound.

A winged figure, now only a corpse, plummeted to the earth. It landed with a dull thud, a crumpled and twisted rag doll. Even from where he stood, the Lord Tezerenee could see that while it was avian, it was also humanoid. It had most certainly been spying on them, so he knew it was also intelligent. He wondered how long it-and likely others-had watched his people, all the while undetected. Though Barakas had appeared to know where the spy was, it had actually been a fluke; he had spotted a movement as he had surveyed that part of his new kingdom. No one would need to know that, however.

Pain abruptly wracked the hand from which he had directed his deadly spell. Barakas swore and rubbed at the sore spot. He felt as if part of his assault had backfired, though there was no method by which that could have happened so far as he knew.

“Lochivan!” His pain was assuaged a bit by the speed with which his son came once more to attention. “This is a hostile region! We have an enemy to confront! I want the immediate area cleared of any other spying eyes.”

“We dare not trust our power, Father. Already, three who attempted spells have been injured. There is something amiss with the magic of this world.”

Barakas released his injured hand as if nothing had happened to it. “I felt nothing. The spell worked as it should have.” That was not true; it had been his intention to capture whatever had lurked in the tree for interrogation or, if it had proven to be merely an animal, examination as a potential food or sport source. For some unfathomable reason, he had unleashed a spell more powerful by at least a hundredfold. “I have commanded; your duty is to obey.”

“Father.” Lochivan bowed and backed away. It was evident in his movements that he would have preferred the patriarch’s reprimand to such an impossible task. Yet, being Tezerenee, he would work to fulfill Barakas’s command, no matter what the cost.

The Lord Tezerenee gestured to two clan members who stood nearby, still stunned by what their master had done. With their helms on, he could not judge whether they were his children or merely relations. It did not matter as long as they performed their duties. “Bring that carcass to me. I want to know what our enemy is capable of.”

The Lady Alcia tried to bring the conversation back to Gerrod. “If you could only-”

She was cut off with an imperialistic wave of one gauntleted hand. “Gerrod is dead. Everyone back in Nimth is dead… or as good as dead. I will hear no more about them.” Anticipation tinged his next words. “We must prepare for our first battle. It will be glorious!”

As she watched her husband stalk off to oversee the disposal of the monstrous corpse, the matriarch frowned. Barakas had found new playmates, actual adversaries. There would be no turning him from the task he had set for himself now. The role of conqueror was at last his to claim. Gerrod was no more than a soon-to-be-forgotten memory, as far as the lord of the dragon clan was concerned.

Glancing at the limp bundle of flesh being dragged to the waiting patriarch and thinking of what other potential dangers the new world might yet offer, the Lady Tezerenee wondered if the clan itself would be such a memory before long.

“Perhaps it would be for the best,” she murmured, then strode off herself to help organize her people for the coming threat.

Vraad and elf faced each other, eyes locked. Considering the speed with which she moved, Dru questioned his chances of unleashing a spell before the knife struck home. He also wondered what sort of sorcery she might have to back up her assault, for the stories had always hinted that to some extent the elfin race had had its share of potent spellcasters. Somehow, he could not see the knife as her only weapon; his Vraadish mind-set could not comprehend a foe who would take on a mage with only a small hand weapon. No one was that insane.

Another thing occurred to him as he readied himself for the worst. He knew time had passed, for the sun was bright in the sky. Yet Dru could not recall either sleeping or eating. He was, however, fully rested and not the least bit hungry. The sorcerer thanked the guardians for small favors; maybe they had wanted him to be at his best when he died.

“What did they tell you in there?” she suddenly asked, the blade still poised for immediate use.

He almost laughed. Questions at a time like this? He would have expected such from himself had his mind not still been at least partly back with the very creatures she asked about. “They told me about this place… and about Nimth.”

“It is all falling apart, is it not? Nimth, that is.”

His gaze shifted briefly from her green, almond-shaped eyes to the knife and then back again. “Yes, it is.”

“You destroyed Nimth. You destroyed it the way you destroyed everything else on it other than yourselves.”

“Yes.”

Confusion spread onto her face, lessening the anger a bit. “You admit it? You are very cooperative. Why is that? What are you planning?”

“I have no quarrel with you, elf. If I have a quarrel with anyone, it is our former hosts.”

“Do you think I am a fool because I use a knife against a Vraad? I know how chancy your spells are, but I also know how devious you are said to be. We went through the same difficulty with our own magic, for a short time, when we first came here. I can easily kill you before you take another breath.”

Dru believed her. The grace with which she moved, even seemed to breathe, spoke of skill surpassing his. Still, if it came to a battle, he had a few tricks she could not know about. “The guardians put us together to survive.”

“Or kill one another and save them the problem of dealing with two more who know about this place.”

The sorcerer had considered that but had chosen not to mention it. He had not even dared to ask what had actually been done with the Seekers. The elf was no one’s fool. “Do we do it, then? Would you like to kill me?”

She hesitated. “A trick?”

“Hardly. I would rather form an alliance than fight.” A gust of wind blew his hair in his eyes. He pushed it aside, wondering if this breeze meant that some of the guardians remained, shielded from his senses. That might have been the true reason they had ejected Darkhorse from their world; he represented a potential threat to their security-to their legacy.

“You are Vraad.” Was there just a hint of uncertainty in her tone? Dru wondered.

“A chance of birth,” he replied.

She smiled at his poor attempt at humor, an effect that nearly dazzled him. So used to the unreal and exceedingly arrogant beauty of his kind, he was unprepared for the beauty that nature itself could offer. Dru forgot himself and simply stared. Only Sharissa could claim similar beauty.

Sharissa and her mother…

The knife was suddenly at his throat. “I could have killed you now. You didn’t even bother to move.”

He had been too engrossed in admiring her… something that had to be the work of this land and not his own doing. Dru had not survived all these centuries by letting his mind wander to pleasant things in times of crisis. No, it had to be the land playing with his thoughts. Yet, Dru realized that his adversary did remind him of his wife and daughter, too, so perhaps…

When her enemy continued to pay no heed to the death tickling his neck, the elf withdrew her blade and, after what must have been a tremendous debate with herself, sheathed it. “If you would desire an alliance, I can see no reason to turn you down. Not for the time being. You can call me Xiri. Not my birth name.”

“Xiri.” The Vraad did not ask what she meant by it not being her birth name. Elfin ways were mystery to his kind, who could only go by what little had been passed down over the millennia. Even Serkadion Manee, who seemed to want to chronicle everything, had been sparse in his details of the one other significant race in Nimth history. “Call me Dru, Xiri. My birth name, if you are interested. How did you know I was a Vraad?”

“It is not because I am so old that I remember your arrogant race,” she bit back, though again with a touch of humor. “Those who passed to this place made certain we would remember the forms of our foes.” She sized him up. “You do not seem exceptionally sinister. Merely tall and a touch too confident in yourself.”

“You’ll find enough of my kind that fit your darkest fears. Overall, we are probably everything your ancestors claimed we were, which is why we ourselves have been trying to escape Nimth.” It was peculiar, he thought, how easy it was to talk to her even though she had come close to slitting his throat only a breath or two earlier.

“How terrible is it?”

Gazing around at the remnants of a civilization far older than his own, Dru pictured Nimth in a few thousand years. “These ruins will look picturesque in comparison to what we have left as a legacy.”

“And now you’ve come here to spread your poison.” The hostility had returned to Xiri’s voice, but it was not meant for Dru personally. “The land will not permit it.”

The sorcerer shivered as she said the last. “Why do you say that?”

Xiri began walking, if only, it seemed, to burn off nervous energy. Without thinking, Dru moved beside her, keeping pace. He was taller than she by nearly two feet and his stride was nearly double her own, but the Vraad was still forced to walk faster to keep up with his new companion.

“You mean you cannot feel it? You cannot feel the presence that is the land itself?”

He had. More than once. He also believed it was the same force that had guided him into this world and then used his horse to lead him here. If what he supposed had truth in it, then there was a purpose for his being in the shrouded realm. Dru was not certain whether he should be pleased or worried.

“I see you have.” Xiri had used Dru’s musings as an opportunity to study his face, reading there the answer he had not given to her in words.

“Do the… the guardians know of it?”

She shrugged. “I am as much of a newcomer to this continent as you. Maybe. It could be that what we feel is like them, though you would know that better than I. Another ‘guardian,’ as you called them.” Xiri mulled over his term. “Guardians. I suppose that describes them better than anything else.”

They were taking a path that would more or less lead them back to where Dru, as a prisoner of the avians, had entered the city. The sorcerer did not ask if there was a reason for this particular direction; he was learning too much to be concerned with anything else. He found he also enjoyed Xiri’s company, she being a more pleasant, straightforward companion than most Vraad… when she was not trying to kill him, that is.

“How long have the elves been here?”

“Thousands of years. We really do not keep track of time as precisely as you do.”

He took a breath before asking his next question. They were on fair terms at the moment, but he knew that there were areas that she might not wish to talk about. Her skill with the blade had been impressed upon him quite sufficiently. Still, he had a question that had to be asked. “How did you escape Nimth?”

To his amazement and relief, she appeared undisturbed by what he had asked. “There is debate as to that. Some claim we found a hole in the fabric of Nimth that led us to here. Some claim the hole was opened for us.

“I think they made a mistake, whoever created all this. I think we were not supposed to be in the same place as your kind, but it took them time to correct that mistake.”

That was likely close to the truth, the overwhelmed spellcaster thought. “How much did the guardians tell you? They’d indicated that they chose to speak to me because I resembled their ancient masters. I thought that I was the only one they spoke with because of that.”

“Enough.” Xiri, her eyes closing to little more than slits, related a tale much like that which Dru had suffered through, but less informative. She knew about the old race and how, for reasons she found insulting, her kind had been judged lacking and left to live out their existence in a place where others were to rule, such as the Seekers and, before them, the Quel. The guardians had said no more, not even telling her that they were leaving her with a Vraad. That the Vraad had been left to face eventual destruction at their own hands had long satisfied the elves. To find herself with Dru had come as a great shock to her. His presence meant that the elves had not left the evil behind them as they had hoped.

When she was finished, Dru told her his own story, including events leading up to the city itself. For reasons he felt were justified, the mage made no mention of the final world, the one in which he had found all that remained of the elder race. He wanted to forget that place. Where the citadel with the ghostly memories had once soothed him, it now filled the Vraad with dread. There were too many parallels to the cross-over and its potential results.

“I am alone, Dru,” Xiri commented without warning.

“The others…”

“Dead. Some during the crossing-the seas between this continent and ours are extremely violent-the rest at the claws of either the birds or the shellbacks.”

“How do you intend to return?”

She turned and faced him. In the midst of so much devastation, the two of them seemed so tiny to the sorcerer. He wanted to go somewhere and hide, a very un-Vraad-like reaction. Of course, Dru had not felt like a Vraad for the past twenty years, especially the last few days.

“I really do not know.”

He laughed despite his efforts not to and when she asked what he found so humorous, her hand straying to the blade at her side, Dru pointed out his own predicament. They were two strangers in a land that did not want them with no idea how to get back to where they had come from. A teleport across a distance as vast as the seas that Xiri described would have been nearly impossible even at his peak of power. He did not know the other continent well enough, having seen it only as a ghostly image, and blind teleports, especially so lengthy, generally proved treacherous. It was easy to end up in the wrong place, such as the bottom of the sea.

Xiri sat down. She did not care that the ground was covered with broken marble. The elf sat as if it were the most important thing she could do. One hand toyed with a pouch akin to the one the Seekers had found. On it was a symbol that resembled the sun. Dru was uncertain as to whether it was decorative or representative of some belief and decided not to ask.

“What do we do, then?” she asked in a monotone voice.

If she was an example of the elfin race, Dru could understand how they might be found lacking by the guardians. Xiri was mercurial in nature, ready to kill him one moment and walking along with him the next. Her abrupt pause now was a surprise, but not great when Dru contemplated it in comparison to how she had acted in the few minutes he had known her. She was a confusing woman… more so than any whose path he had crossed in his long life.

“Where were we walking to?” he finally asked. Dru assumed the elf had a destination in mind.

“I do not know. I merely walked to put distance between myself and the guardians.” A touch of bitterness underscored her next words. “I did not want to offend them any longer with my less-than-perfect presence, I suppose.” Xiri clutched the pouch tighter. “All our work for naught.”

“The Seekers and the… the Quel… didn’t find whatever it was they sought. That should be something.” The sorcerer knew it gave him some satisfaction.

Xiri looked up at the spellcaster, who felt uncomfortable at what he read in her expression. “They wanted to seize control of the power that made all of this. They found caverns left behind by the builders of this city, caverns that whispered some of the truth about this world and promised many things for those willing to look for the source.”

That was what the figurines in the chamber of the dragon lord had reminded him of. They were akin to some of the talismans the Seeker leader had revealed to him through the avians’ peculiar method of communication. “So they found a chamber carved out by the former lords of… is there no name for this world?”

“None that I know of. We did not feel it was our right to give it another.”

It may yet be called the Dragonrealm, then, for lack of a better title, Dru thought sourly. He refrained from telling Xiri, not wanting to arouse her anger. “What purpose did the chamber serve?”

“I do not know. The Seekers control that region. The Quel… no one knows how the Quel learn what they learn. They just seem to know.” The elf rose, stretching her slender legs, much to Dru’s discomfort. He had stayed clear of the female of the species since the idiotic duel that his wife had died fighting. Again, he noted how Xiri reminded him of… of…

He had tried so hard to forget her death, to forget the pain he had suffered… that Dru had forgotten her name.

“Is something amiss?”

“Nothing,” he snapped back. The shamed sorcerer knew his face was crimson. “My memory has failed me. That’s all it was.”

“I see.” She did, in a sense. He could see that. Xiri knew that whatever had disturbed the Vraad had been very personal. It was a comfort that, unlike Melenea, the elf did not probe the open wound merely for her own amusement. Instead, Xiri glanced up at the blue sky and said, “The day will be gone and we will still be here wondering what to do.”

Dru hesitated. Their key to escape might lie within the empty square where the rift was. Despite his desire to never return there-and the possible threat of the guardians, who might decide that eliminating an elf and a Vraad was worth breaking their own rules-the rift was probably the only hope they had. Even if Sharissa crossed over with the rest, there was no way she would be able to locate him. Not here.

They had to go back.

“I know a way.” When she waited, a slight, patient smile enhancing her smooth, pale features, he forced himself to go on. “Do you remember when I rode into sight?”

“I remember. Your steed frightened me. I had never seen such an animal. Are all your horses like that?”

The thought of a stable filled with Darkhorses eased the tension in his mind and almost made him smile. “Hardly. What I ask is if you remember how I appeared?”

“I did not see that. I assumed you came from behind some building.”

He had forgotten that no one had noticed the two of them until he and Darkhorse were already riding toward them. Dru shook his head. “No, we didn’t. What you and the avians missed was the rift in reality through which we emerged. A hole, if that brings to mind what I’m trying to explain.”

“A hole?” She rose, ever lithe in her movements. “You found a hole such as the one my people are supposed to have used?”

“Not just any. It leads to where the originators of this… experiment… last lived. It may hold the key to controlling everything.”

Xiri gazed back in the direction of the clearing where she had first seen Dru. “The Sheeka never knew how close they were.” Turning to the tall Vraad, she asked suspiciously, “Why did you ‘forget’ to tell me this before?”

There had been a time when nothing would have shamed the master sorcerer. Now, it felt as if his face burned all the time. “I was frightened. I… didn’t want to… return to the central chamber.”

“What was in there?” Her suspicion had turned to sympathy. From all she had likely been told about his kind, shame was not something Xiri would have expected from him.

Now it was his turn to gaze back in the direction of that terrible place. “The memories of the last of that race. The truth about Nimth. A feeling that the Vraad are too much like them and will fade away even as they have.”

“All races fade with time. The Quel, the Sheeka, and their predecessors are all examples of that. Even the elves will pass on.” Xiri gave the ruined city a look of contempt as she added, “For all our ‘failure’ to live up to their expectations, we elves have lasted longer than most.”

“I don’t believe we have to fall. Not until all reality itself fades away.” Dru clenched his fists. “I can find it fairly easy. I could never forget now.”

“What about the guardians?”

He met her eyes, found no fear in them, only honest worry. “You’re the one who reminded me we have no choice. I’d hoped you had a way out of here, a way to travel to where my… to where your people are.”

Xiri put a hand on his arm. “I know the Vraad have come. You could not exactly hide it, Dru. We will deal with them when we return home.”

She had not said “if,” which strengthened the sorcerer’s resolve a bit, though he was certain Xiri had used the word for her own sake. Neither of them wanted to think what would happen if the guardians, especially one of them, did, indeed, decide the Vraad and the elf could be removed despite the rules laid down by the long-gone lords.

“You are not so bad, for an ancient and terrible enemy,” she commented without warning. “You might be elfin if not for your height and your odd visage.”

“And you,” he replied, starting back to the inner city as he spoke, “are not so mystically withdrawn as I thought elves were supposed to be.”

“There are always those caught up in the wonder of themselves. Most of us have learned to relax. We find we get along much better now. There was a point where we were nearly at war with ourselves, because of our strict, pompous ways.”

“What happened?”

She had moved ahead of him, again building a pace he had to work hard to match. “Our elders reminded us of the Vraad and how we were acting too much like them.”

Dru could only see the back of her head, but he was of the suspicion that his companion was smiling.

Throughout the return, they sensed no presence other than their own. Xiri pointed out that it was hardly proof that the two of them were alone and Dru readily agreed. He kept waiting for the end to come, for the magical beings to take them up like rag dolls and drop them wherever they had disposed of the avians.

What had they done to the Seekers?

Xiri froze. “Wait.”

“What is it?” He peered ahead, but saw nothing.

“I thought I saw a shape, elf or Vraad, but when I blinked, it was not there anymore.”

Darkhorse had said something similar… in the same region, Dru noticed. Who else was here? “Not a Seeker or a Quel?”

“Neither. I would recognize a Shee-Seeker, if you prefer, quite easily. No, it looked manlike, but incomplete.” She shrugged. “I cannot explain the last.”

Dru moved with more caution, expecting trouble at any moment. As for Xiri, the Vraad was unsettled by her almost casual manner. It was clear that she felt that at this point they had nothing to gain by stealth. A quick, direct march to their destination was what she obviously had in mind and Dru, understanding her more and more, knew the senselessness of trying to stop the elf now that she had decided on her course of action.

Before he was ready to be there, they had arrived at the square where the rift waited.

“I do not see anything.”

“Did you see anything before I burst into sight?”

“No,” she admitted. “It just seems wrong to not see something.”

“If it had been so visible, the Seekers would have found it before either of us.”

“But would the guardians have let them?” she countered.

It was one of many questions he could not answer. The sorcerous creatures had likely interfered because of the number of intruders, not the mere fact that there had been intruders in the first place. They had not disturbed Dru and Darkhorse after their initial attempt to frighten the duo away. In what was a somewhat naive manner of thought, they had probably hoped the two would leave without disturbing too much. The mage was astonished at how rule-bound such godlike beings were, even considering the fact that they had been as familiars to their ancient masters. To remain at their tasks this long, with the cracks in their ranks only beginning to form, was astounding. Yet, if the one sinister guardian was a sign of what was to come, Dru worried that the future held even greater danger than the refugees from Nimth had ever imagined could confront them.

“No one has stopped us so far. We might as well go on.” Though Xiri made it sound like a suggestion, Dru understood that it was more of a gentle nudge. Without realizing it, he had already stepped back a foot or so, as if his deep fear were stealing control of his body.

“It was this way.” The reluctant sorcerer urged his legs into motion, leading his elfin companion to where he estimated the rift would be.

They saw nothing save more ruins. Dru began to worry that he had lost the gap, that they would wander this area for hours and find nothing but more rubble. Xiri would think him a fool…

“There!” the elf shouted, her voice almost gleeful.

He saw it now, a tiny tear just below eye level. In that tear was a glimpse of another place, a wondrous place.

I said so! I said they would return! They must be removed! The savage voice in their minds made both explorers fall to their knees. Dru needed no help in identifying the creature that ravaged his brain merely by speaking.

Should not! came the voice that the Vraad had deemed the fourth. It sounded reluctant, as if it, too, no longer believed that noninterference was possible.

They had their chance! They betrayed our good faith! roared the attacker. Dru held his head, trying to keep it from bursting. They-

Dru’s mind cleared.

Beside him, Xiri rose, her body trembling. “What happened? Where did they go?”

The sorcerer shook his head, then regretted the action as the world swam. Of the mental intrusion by the guardians, there was no trace. It was as if they had been cut off… or fled.

“Something frightened them.” His head cleared.

Dru and his companion heard the scuffling sound at the same time. Xiri was the swifter of the two, so she was first to turn and see what stumbled toward them. It did her little good; the sorcerer could read the confusion on her visage even as he himself was turning to see what new twist the once-supposedly peaceful world had for him.

The newcomer shambled toward them, clad in a simple robe and cowl that covered its body all the way to the earth. It stumbled again, walking as if it did not really know where it was going. Not surprising, as far as Dru was concerned, considering it had no eyes. It also had no ears, nose, mouth, or hair… in fact, no markings whatsoever.

One of Barakas’s golems, larger than before, but instantly recognizable as such.

How had it gotten here, when the cross-over had been set to occur on the other continent?

Dru forgot that question, forgot all thoughts, as the faceless golem was joined by a second and then a third.

Then they began swarming out of the ruins from all sides, the Vraad, the elf, and the rift their obvious destination.