XIX

The night passed, though it was nearly impossible to believe that since the sky remained unchanged. The storm still grew, yet did not unleash its fury. Illumination from the green mass above still kept Nimth bathed in a parody of sunset. Xiri forced Dru to rest and he perhaps succeeded in sleeping an hour, but overall it was no use. Too much preyed on his torn mind. Vraad gathered in greater and greater numbers and still there was no Sharissa. Unable to rest any longer, Dru wandered among his people and asked several of those he knew if they had seen her. Several could not be bothered to remember. In some ways he could not blame them. They wanted to leave Nimth and be done with it. To most Vraad, the only reason to ask the whereabouts of a child of theirs was so that said offspring would not be able to mount a surprise assault on their domain.

Only when he realized that Melenea was also among those still missing did the tall sorcerer have an inkling of why his daughter might not have been able to reach him.

“I have to leave,” he whispered to Xiri. “We have to leave. There is an enchantress called Melenea.” Dru could not recall at the moment whether he had told the elf of his former lover, but that did not matter. Even if he had said something, he needed to say it now. “She’s a Vraad of the worst extremes. Her entire life is built around what she likes to call games, but which others have often called insanity.”

The Tezerenee returned. His eyes burned with anger and not a little fear. The more Vraad who arrived, the less comfortable he felt. Only Dru’s presence and word of honor kept the growing mass from trying to take him.

“Going somewhere? I think not,” Rendel warned, keeping his voice low so that the rest of the Vraad could not hear him. He had remained close by, drawing protection from Dru’s mere presence. An unwelcome, eavesdropping shadow that Dru was regretting. “Not, at least, until I’m across!”

The two faced off. “It’s a fallacy that the Tezerenee understand what caring for a son or daughter means, but that doesn’t give you the right to command me, Rendel!”

“Would you like me to tell them that you plan to abandon them? I doubt whether I’d have to worry much about my hide if I did! It would be you they were after, outsider! You and your sweet pet here!”

Xiri had already proven her bravery time and again, but the covetous look Rendel gave her turned her face pale. Her eyes were daggers as she tried to pretend his implications meant nothing to her.

“They’d still take you, don’t think otherwise! I won’t be bullied, dragon! You don’t want me as your enemy!”

Rendel tried a new tactic. “You were given a purpose when the guardians sent you back here.”

It could not be denied. Dru took a deep breath. “Rendel, I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do except probably bring you all to the one rift that I know of, the one in the far reaches of my lands.”

“Is that it?” The Tezerenee laughed out loud, causing more than one head to turn. “I’ll take them there! Go on and find your get! I’ll make certain they cross safely.”

Dru could read some of what Rendel planned by the minute but visible changes in his expression. Somehow, Rendel would try to make certain it was he to whom the other Vraad owed a debt. He wondered just how much of a fool Rendel was. Most of the Vraad would still want his hide even after the crossing, preferably in many screaming pieces. He was a part of something they hated and this was their opportunity to strike back.

“If anyone leads them, it should be the one called Silesti,” Xiri suggested. Her dislike for the Vraad race was still strong, but if there were any who could be trusted other than Dru, it was the somber Silesti. Dru agreed. Silesti’s contribution to the new plan was growing with each addition to the ranks. He appeared to have been born for this moment. Everyone looked to him as the symbol of defiance, defiance against the draconian Tezerenee clan. Barakas had tried to kill him, so the rumors now went, and had failed.

Silesti had already proved his ability as a leader, something that came as a bit of a shock to Dru and possibly the somber warlock himself. Dru wondered if it was his way of filling the void left by the abrupt end of his lifelong duel with Dekkar. Thinking of the duel, he wondered again how Silesti had survived. The other Vraad had not offered a reason and no one had the audacity to ask. For now, it did not really matter. What mattered to him was that he and Silesti both trusted and respected each other now. Had he dared to consider the black-suited Vraad’s last conversation with him, a simple talk over questions raised by some of the newcomers, Dru might have even gone so far as to say the two of them liked one another… at least a tiny bit.

“It will be Silesti.”

Rendel’s mask of calm nearly slipped away. Rage spread like wildfire and it was all he could do to keep from screaming. “As you like it! We will speak again in the Dragonrealm.”

He turned and caught sight of Silesti and several others, all of whom had an avid interest in the conversation between Dru and the Tezerenee. It was clear that they were hoping for some kind of break between the two so that Rendel would no longer be protected from their wrath.

The Tezerenee paused, measuring their emotions, and stepped back until he was next to Dru. Without meeting Dru’s eyes, he whispered in a cold tone, “I will be waiting for you, Zeree. Waiting for all of you to bow to me, not my father.”

The pale-haired warlock pushed past Dru and strode off into the deserted sectors of the city.

“Perhaps someone will find him alone and unprotected among the ruins,” Xiri suggested, watching the receding figure with disgust. “What did he mean by that last?”

Several Vraad had stirred the moment Rendel had walked away. Silesti rushed over to Dru and Xiri.

“What happened? Where did that reptile go? Is he coming back?”

It had only become clear to Dru now what the Tezerenee had meant. A search of the city would reveal nothing of him. “He’s gone. He won’t be with us.”

“Will he escape to the Dragonrealm?” The ebony-garbed figure spouted. Not having another name for it, the Vraad as a whole had unconsciously adopted the one coined by Barakas.

First victory to you, patriarch! Dru thought in sour humor. “He may. Rendel knows where I planned to go and he knows much concerning the shrouded realm and its intrusions here. Still…” An idea dawned, one that he did not care for. “I could be wrong about the location. The place I fell through might not be our way out. Rendel might be following a dead trail!”

“If he gets left behind…” Silesti smiled at the image. “What a perfect fate! Better than any torture! Nimth will kill him far more slowly than we would!”

“Yet he may escape to the other side if the rift does prove open,” Xiri pointed out.

Silesti still had a bit of trouble dealing with an elf. Because she was Dru’s close companion, he had succeeded so far in treating her with at least some respect. “Then we will track him down at our leisure once we have finally reached our new home!”

That was Dru’s opening. What Rendel did could be dealt with once they were all safe and secure, but Sharissa was a subject that could wait no longer. “I think it might be best to see if there is another path through. I know what to look for now. If the way I know of is closed or if it only opens periodically, then I should find that out before we dare lead the others there. Are there those you can trust to act in concert with you? Those who can keep our people trusting for a time longer? It might take into the morning to do what I must.”

The other Vraad frowned. “That sounds as if you will be leaving us.”

“I won’t be here for a time, that’s all. There’s still more I have to do. I want the cross-over to work.”

“You underestimate me.” Silesti’s visage grew troubled. “Or perhaps you do not trust me. That you care for your daughter is a mystery to many of us. Now she is missing and you want to find her; that is what you are really thinking about. You asked where Melenea was and I know that she’s also among the missing. I, for one, would draw the same conclusion as you have, that Melenea has your Sharissa. She has always been a vindictive and deadly bitch and this smells like one of her mad games! Only she would play when the world is crumbling about her!”

As opposed to the rest of the Vraad, Dru thought with what he considered justified criticism. Left abandoned by Lord Barakas, had they attempted their own plan of escape? Hardly. He did not, of course, reveal any of this to Silesti. It would have been unfair, anyway. Dru was just as guilty as the rest. Only the past two decades had he attempted to redeem himself. “I meant what I said about the cross-over, Silesti. I do want to check my work before we try. We know what will happen if the others feel they’ve been betrayed again.”

“And I would join you as one of those facing their combined wrath.” Silesti gave him a brief smile that would have looked more appropriate on an animal being led to slaughter. “I really have no choice, do I? Get your little hellion and make certain that you have a destination for us, that’s all I care.” The other sorcerer’s voice grew fatalistic. “If you don’t return by a reasonable time, I’ll do my best to see that I lead the mob that comes for you.”

Though Xiri was taken aback by the threat, Dru accepted it as normal. With time ever passing too quickly, he outlined the basics of what he had in mind concerning the second cross-over, only vaguely making references to the guardian who had aided him. Dru hoped he himself understood what he was doing. The guardian had said that he was to lead them to the shrouded realm, but had never actually said that the rift the sorcerer had fallen through was the correct path or that there might be some other way altogether. The magical creature had inferred a few things, but…

With an effort born of anger, Dru ousted the worries and the second thoughts from his mind. He would defeat himself without aid from either Melenea or Rendel if he fell prey to his own fears.

Silesti nodded his understanding when Dru concluded. “I have it. Remarkable!” he added, his dark mood fading as he once more fell victim to the wonder of it all. “To think escape stood there waiting for us and we thought it was merely an aberration, a part of Nimth’s long dying! Why is it these others sought us out in the first place?”

“That’s something that must wait until we’ve crossed.”

“Not going to tell me. As you wish. You can count on me, Zeree, if only so that I can be around to see the dragon lord’s sickened face.”

Dru’s jaw nearly dropped until it occurred to him that Silesti was speaking of Barakas, not the statue whose likeness the guardian had taken on.

“What are you waiting for?” Silesti asked. “You of all people should know how quickly time is running out.”

Dru’s growing guilt made him offer the other Vraad one last chance to back down, though he prayed Silesti would not take it. “There will be several thousand, Silesti. We’re talking about all of our people, you know. We can’t leave anyone behind.”

“I have some concept of the numbers. They will be here. Anyone foolish enough to want to remain behind deserves their fate, but we will try to convince them otherwise.” A pause. “In fact, it will keep them busy and give them a reason why we have to delay! Perfect!” More confident now, he waved Dru and the elf away. “That settles everything. Now go! I want you here when the time comes… or I cannot promise what will happen afterward!”

Both men locked gazes for a time, the truth of Silesti’s words a grim reminder of the fickleness and pettiness of their kind. Neither could claim to be above such things, either.

It was the other mage who broke contact first, physically turning away from the two. “Find the bitch and get your daughter back! I just hope your youngster doesn’t pay you back with typical kindness when she finally does leave you!”

Dru watched him walk back toward the expanding crowd, then led Xiri away from the sight of the milling Vraad. When they were alone, she turned to him with a questioning expression. The elf wanted an explanation for the other sorcerer’s last statement.

“It’s good that Vraad live so long,” he said in a hushed voice. “Most offspring die trying to murder at least one of their parents.”

The horrified look he received made him burn with bitterness. “Yes, the founders and the guardians are very desperate if they think we are their last chance for a future! I thought you knew that already.”

“You are not like that! You could not have…” Though it was a denial, there was a hint of question in it.

His lack of reply was response enough.

They found a building that still retained enough roof to give them shelter for the brief time while they worked the spell that would send them to Melenea’s realm. Facing Xiri but avoiding her, Dru took her hands. He was becoming tired, so very tired, but it was not yet the time to sleep. Xiri squeezed tightly, not from disgust but rather from understanding. Dru felt like a corpse given a second life. He dared to kiss the top of her head just before they teleported.


To enter the heart of a raging storm would have seemed a pleasant task in comparison to what Dru and Xiri found themselves in the midst of when they appeared. The duo was thrown to the ground as a quake rocked everything. Dru was certain he felt the earth ripple like a wave. A frog with tiny human legs rushed past his dust-covered face. Something he was thankful he could not see slithered over his backside. Beside him, Xiri coughed hard in an attempt to empty her lungs of dirt that she had swallowed.

“What in the name of Rheena?” she finally managed.

Turning over, Dru found that his vision had gone mad. That was the first and most sensible explanation for what he saw. The spellcaster almost wished the dim glow in the sky would fade, if only so that he would not have to see what was happening around him.

They were only a short distance from their intended destination, but that minute gap had probably saved them from disaster. Melenea’s stronghold was only a chaotic memory of what he recalled. Its walls and cloud-capped towers twisted and swayed, snakes of marble and ivory. The entire edifice wriggled, a thing pretending at life. Things crawled all around it, nonsense creatures that existed only in the Vraad subconscious… until now. It was magic gone wild, a region madly unstable. He should have known that her domain would be one of the first to be lost. Melenea had always been free with her spells, more so than even the Tezerenee. Worse yet, what they had seen so far was only the first stage. Anything would eventually be possible in an area like this and there was no way to turn it back once the instability had established itself so. Even as Dru stared, dumbfounded, one of the walls grew a score of mouths, each of which began babbling words of no meaning. The land itself turned and shaped itself like soft clay, hills rising and sinking at random moments. Now and then, some new aberration would go running by them. Plants, as twisted as any Nimth now produced, sprouted, grew, tried to reach them, then withered and died… all in the time it took to blink.

There could be no one in the citadel itself. Melenea would have no desire for a place that was no longer hers to mold as she willed. Thankfully, it also meant that Sharissa could not be there. If she was a captive of the deadly enchantress, Melenea would hardly waste her. This was one of her games and Sharissa was her prize piece. Her bait. The game he had unwittingly joined when he had taken her as a lover had never truly ended, not for Melenea. Dru had defied her in ways that none of the others had. It would not be over until he succumbed to her will.

Or when I kill you. That would end her games once and for all. The grim choice made, Dru rose and helped Xiri to her feet. “They have to be back in my lands. Melenea will be waiting for us there, ready to play a final hand.”

“She must be mad!”

“No more than any other Vraad! Longevity has its price. Perhaps that’s why the young try to kill their progenitors… to either unconsciously save their elders from further madness or prevent themselves from ever having to suffer it. Reaching adulthood is insanity enough!”

One of the sky-scraping towers twisted toward the duo, sighting upon them like a great serpent. Melenea had always been proud of her achievement. There were none stretched so high, not even in the communal city. Seen acting as some living creature, they were even more astounding.

“Time to leave,” Dru whispered. “Serkadion Manee! I pray I’m right!”

“What if Sharissa is not there?”

His skin was white and he knew his present appearance chilled the elf. At the moment, Dru did not care.

“Then Melenea will learn-”

Blue-green fur swarmed over them.

Xiri was tossed aside, only to land like a wet cloth on the ever-shifting earth. The monstrous form ignored her. Dru stared into a maw filled with teeth.

“Lady said that someone would come, sorcerer! Said that I could play with you if you came!” The massive wolf loomed over the battered spellcaster. “You are Dru Zeree. Delicious! She would never let me play with you before, but she is gone now! Lady said I could have anyone who came, anyone at all!”

Dru had forgotten Cabal, though he found it amazing that he could have ever erased the memory of this monstrosity. Cabal was Melenea as she should have been. Her alter ego. Yet… yet now painfully reminded of its existence, he also recalled something else about the wolf. Melenea had destroyed the familiar in a fit of anger when it had tried to take Dru while he slept. Destroyed it with hardly a care for the loyalty it had always given her. That was why he had forgotten Cabal; it had not existed anymore.

This was hardly an illusion that stood over him. Dru could feel and smell its hot, nauseating breath.

Seeming to understand the changing emotion in its victim’s expression, Cabal laughed again. “A long time, yes. You remember. A good trick she played, not telling you about me. Lady has punished me often, but there are always other Cabals!”

“I am legion!” laughed an identical voice.

A second Cabal emerged from hiding and joined the first, eyeing the limp elf with interest before turning a hungry gaze at the Vraad.

It should not have surprised Dru that there were more than one; it was typical Melenea. How many did she have? Dru envisioned an endless array of huge, blue-green wolves, all of them extensions of her twisted personality.

For all their strength, however, the familiars also suffered from her weaknesses. It was his only hope. With Xiri unconscious, Dru could not leave… even supposing his spell did work the first time.

Behind them, several of the towers had twisted their way, rippling pseudo-snakes drawn by the movements. Dru developed a wild, desperate plan.

“Who plays with me first, then?” he asked, trying to seem interested rather than anxious. Their response would indicate just how much like their mistress they were.

“I caught you! I am first!” growled the one who had knocked the Vraad and the elf over.

The other snarled. “I saw them! I let you have first strike, but I play first with him!”

“Play with the elf!”

“No!” The second Cabal narrowed its eyes, studying the hapless spellcaster as it might a favorite treat. “I want him! He is mine!”

“After I am done!”

“I don’t think I’ll be much fun to play with after the first of you,” Dru interjected when he saw the second reconsidering its position.

“I want him first!” it finally responded.

The twin behemoths turned and bared their multitude of sharp teeth at one another. As he had suspected, they were as possessive as Melenea. It was a common failing with familiars. Other than a few exceptions such as Sirvak, whom Dru had worked to make as separate an individual mind as possible, most were nearly perfect reflections of their masters and mistresses. Cabal was even more extreme than most.

“I will have him!”

“I will have him!”

The first one snapped at its doppelganger. That led to a snap from the second. Both were working to make the other back down, a futile ploy considering they were equally stubborn. Melenea would have never backed down and Dru hoped her pets would follow suit.

“Mine!” The two beasts shouted in simultaneous fashion. They leaped as one, coming together in the air, jaws biting and claws tearing. Dru crawled backward as fast as he could to avoid being crushed by their falling bodies.

Both Cabals landed on their feet, still locked together in combat. Identical scars decorated their shoulders and blood dripped from their jaws as each tried to tear out the other’s throat. There is no worse enemy than one’s self, Dru thought as he watched in horrified fascination. He still dared not take Xiri and attempt to flee. The moment the Vraad moved to escape, the twin familiars would forget their feud and turn on him. Of that he was certain.

The battling beasts stepped back from each other, blood spattering their faces. Magical though they were, in order to be useful to a Vraad, a familiar had to be flesh and bone. The wary combatants circled one another, baring their fangs and again seeking to frighten off one another.

Xiri stirred at that point, both cheering Dru with the fact that she was still alive and adding to the sorcerer’s fear by moving so near the creatures. If she caught their attention, they might break off the battle long enough to make certain she did not try to escape.

Once again, the Cabals joined. So evenly matched, they might fight for days without pause, neither ever gaining an upper hand. Dru could hardly wait out all that time. Had this been the Nimth of long ago or even a few months past, Cabal would have been nothing to him. Yet, in a place where his sorcery was suspect, Melenea’s familiar, doubly strong now, could easily be his equal or even his superior.

He glanced briefly at the wriggling towers, his thin hope there fading away. The citadel still acted like a living creature. Two smaller towers even sparred with one another, a reflection of the battle between the familiars. A portion of the edifice now seemed to be flowing down and away, not molten, for the walls and buildings still held some semblance of their function. As with so many things of late, it was a phenomenon that he would have dearly loved to study, but not during his present predicament.

It was now impossible to tell which of the wolves was which, not that it really mattered. They rolled in a jumble of fur, blood, and dust, their snarls loud enough to hurt Dru’s ears. The two leviathans crashed into a low overhang and the rubble that fell to the ground sprouted arms and legs. A hundred or more magic-spawned gargoyles scattered to escape further fragmentation.

Even if the familiars never ceased their fight, how long would it be before the wild power affected Dru and his companion? He had no idea how much resistance elves had to such chaos.

Some of the living towers had returned their attention to the movements of the familiars. Dru studied the back and forth swaying of the snakelike bodies and tried to make himself as still as possible. The two Cabals had broken from one another again. Both turned one wary eye toward the Vraad, as if to warn that he had better not try to escape. Dru tried to look panic-stricken, which proved to be easy since he was not, in truth, far from that point already.

Satisfied, the twin wolves backed away. They had not abandoned their fight. Instead, each sought to find better ground from which to attack. It was their only venue left. An advantage of position would break the deadlock created by their identical abilities.

“Dru.” It was a whisper, one barely heard among so much noise.

He blinked, trying not to show his shock. “Xiri?”

“What do we do? They won’t fight forever.”

That was debatable, based on what he knew of Melenea’s nature, but it was still important that they escape before too long. Not merely for their sakes, but for Sharissa’s.

“Can we outrun them?”

Dru shook his head, and whispered back, “They could catch us even if each of them had two broken legs and half their bodies ripped apart. Melenea knows her sorcery well. What they lack in personality and intelligence, they make up for in ability. They have reflexes a thousand times greater than the animal they resemble.”

“What do we do?” Xiri’s voice cracked for the first time that he could recall. He wanted to go to her and hold her, for both of their well-beings.

Dru looked up once more at the nearly hypnotic swaying of the towers. “We hope that it won’t take much more.”

Before she could question his statement, the familiars charged at one another. One Cabal had taken to a hill that kept crumbling. The second had opted for lower but more stable ground for its starting point. Each evidently hoped the earth itself would prove the deciding point. If the one above stumbled, it might lose its footing and fall, leaving it open to its counterpart’s attack. If it maintained its balance, it would have the opportunity to leap onto its twin, crushing the other beneath it and enabling it to reach the neck.

As the two monsters closed, Dru caught a twitch of movement from the living citadel.

With a swiftness even the wolves would have had trouble matching, the largest of the towers, so very much serpentine in movement, struck at the charging combatants. It had no mouth, though it might have thought it did, but its girth and the pointed tip were sufficient. The living tower caught both wolves, coming down upon them with a mass so great that it continued on even after meeting the ground. It withdrew almost instantly, leaving behind a deep crater.

The wolves had never even noted its coming.

Dru was already moving, hoping that the actions of the one spire would hold the others back for a moment. Xiri was on her feet even as he reached her and the two ran with all the speed they could muster. Neither dared to look back, even when they heard movement.

A powerful shock wave sent them flying forward. As Dru tumbled, he saw another of the towers retreat, its strike having fallen short by only a few yards.

There was one benefit of the second assault. Dru and Xiri had been tossed out of reach of the murderous spires. The two of them lay where they had fallen until their hearts had slowed to something approaching normal. Beyond them, the towers of the citadel started to collapse like wax candles tossed into a fire. Even still, the tallest made one token attempt to reach them. It fell far short. A moment later, the entire tower fell for a final time, its base no longer solid enough to support it. It continued to flop around for a few seconds more, a horror suffering its death throes.

“That… was…” Xiri took another breath and tried again. “That was… I cannot find a word that satisfies me!”

“Astonishing, amazing, horrible, terrible, insane, unbelievable, impossible…” Dru’s smile was wan. “Use all of them and more. It’s the only way you might ever describe it in sufficient fashion.”

She squinted, trying to locate something. “Do you think that those creatures are dead?”

“Cabal? I doubt there’s much left that could do anything to us. For a time, I was afraid it wouldn’t happen.”

Her eyes became dishes. “You knew the citadel would attack them?”

“It was watching like a snake, striking at movement. I hoped that it would attack them before they decided to make peace.”

“What if they had?”

He stood up and stared grimly back at the gaping crater that was all that remained of the wolves. “I’d rather not think about it. Let’s hope there are no more of them.”

“We should leave here,” the elf said. She did not want to have to face more of those obscene creatures if they could avoid it. “But where should we go?”

Dru was still pondering the familiars and whether Melenea had truly wanted them to kill him. He would have thought her too possessive to let others, even bits of her own personality, do it for her. That was verification enough that she was not here.

“She could only be in my lands… as I said earlier. Where best to humiliate me and take from me everything I care for than my own home?”

“She must have loved you deeply at one time,” Xiri whispered in a hesitant manner.

He was stunned. How could she think that? “Melenea loves no one. I thought that was obvious.”

“Then why has she such a marked interest in you? I gather many have known her over the centuries.”

“We’re wasting time!” Dru barked, taking Xiri’s hands a little more tightly than he had planned. She remained passive, knowing his anger would fade… and knowing it was aimed at himself, not her.

Behind them, Melenea’s stronghold started its final collapse within itself. Melting yet not melting, it looked like a water-soaked drawing rather than an actual castle. That such power was now unchecked…

If it was a sign, neither of them wanted to know. They closed their eyes and were, a heartbeat later, at their destination.

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