Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III (37 page)

Cabe tensed, noting the change in the Crystal Dragon’s voice. The human quality in it had given way to the more reptilian sibilance that he was accustomed to from the other Dragon Kings.

Looking more and more exhausted, the drake lord slumped back. The hissing became more pronounced with each breath. “I wasss a man who wasss a beassst, but I knew who I wasss now and so I believed there wasss hope for my humanity. The others mussst have become like me. I decided to summon the other dragons, the onesss I was certain were of the Tezerenee, and bring them into the chamber one at a time. Surely, with all of usss once more knowing who we were, we could work to transform oursssselves back to what we had been.”

It was not to be. He who had once been the Vraad called Logan summoned drake after drake into the chamber, only to find that none of them recalled even the vaguest of memories. One after another disappointment. When the last had been dismissed, he again attempted to tear the place asunder and was again defeated by the power that held the chamber together. He and he alone was evidently the recipient of the crystalline chamber’s great sorcery. He had been
chosen
; that was the only answer that he could surmise. It would be useless to summon his brothers even assuming he could find them. They would be no different than the poor fools who were now his clan.

Humanity briefly crept back into the Dragon King’s voice. It was as if there were a constant struggle going on between the two sides of his mind. “And so through the millennia, I have remained alone, my mind a man’s and my form a monster’s. The chamber gives much: the ability to view the land all over, power that reaches beyond the borders of my domain, and, most devilish of all,
life eternal.
” He allowed Cabe time to think of the ramifications of that gift, then resumed, “But it does not give me the power to become the man I once was. Nothing has. If I try to transform, I risk losing control over my very thoughts. All that is left to me is my mind. After so long,
that
is little consolation, but I will not give it up. I have watched the others give way to generation after generation of heirs, each more of a monster than the lassst. I have watched the rise of humanity, who thinks that it, in turn, inherits from beasts and not from its own ancestors. I have watched . . . and watched . . . and watched.”

A lengthy silence followed. It was a silence that the warlock knew meant the tale was at an end, or at least as much of it as the drake was willing to tell him. There were many questions that Cabe wanted to ask, including whether Shade was one of the Tezerenee and how the Crystal Dragon had kept his immortality secret from his counterparts, even barring his hermitic existence. Perhaps someday he would be told the answers to his questions, but not this day. What he
had
learned was stunning enough. The Dragonrealm was ever a cornucopia of surprises.

The silence continued without foreseeable end. At last able to stand it no longer, Cabe dared speak. “Your Majesty?”

There was no response from the massive form.

“Your Majesty?” The warlock paused, then shouted, “Logan Tezerenee!”

The Crystal Dragon’s head shot skyward. Blazing, reptilian eyes fixed on the small, defiant figure standing before him. The monarch of Legar hissed. “You have my attention. Make it worth the danger.”

Cabe Bedlam had had enough, however. He took a step closer and retorted, “I don’t fear the danger. If you were anything of a threat, you would be acting against the true problem, the wolf raiders. Instead, you remain here, dwelling on a past that is lost. If you care so little about your existence, then you should have ended it long ago.”

“Beware of how you ssspeak, human!”

“Listen to yourself! Is that a man speaking?”

The glittering behemoth rose to his full height. Even then, the warlock would not back down. He dared not.

“You are purposely trying to annoy me! Why?”

Pointing at the walls, Cabe responded. “You’ve seen what’s out there.
You
unleashed the fog. Now, instead of bringing down the Aramites, it may become a weapon they can use. You
have
to do something.”

“The fog will eventually dissipate! It must! It cannot hold itself together, not even if he commands it. The raiders will wipe themselves out trying to conquer this land and that will settle the situation.” He hesitated. “Now leave me . . .” The Dragon King started to turn away. “I must rest.”

Cabe could not recall ever becoming so infuriated with a Dragon King before. The very notion surprised him even now, but he knew that he was nonetheless fast approaching the point where he would lose his temper . . . and then probably his life. There were too many people relying on him, however, for the incensed sorcerer to give up.

“You’ve been hidden away here too long, content with observing through this device rather than seeing the world through your own eyes! You’ve become afraid of the outside, afraid of becoming part of the Dragonrealm!”

“
You
understand
nothing
!” roared the Crystal Dragon. “You understand nothing! I
cannot
leave this chamber! If I do so I lose
everything
! I will become as the others did, as I once was! I will be a creature, a monster, in form
and
in mind! I will lose myself! And this time it will be forever, I feel it!” The enraged dragon tried to calm himself down. “The sssame it isss if I exert my power too often, asss I nearly did when Ice sssought to end all things with his foul spell! I have rested much since then, but it is still not near enough!

“It almost happened once, when I decided to seek out some of the others and see if they, too, with the aid of this chamber could recall their past. As I started to leave, though, my head began to swim and my thoughts grew beastlike. I only barely made it back here. It was
three
days before my mind was calm enough to think my bitter experience through. I came to realize that only here was I myself. Only
here
could I survive intact.”

Intact?
Cabe found that debatable. His shoulders slumped in resignation. There would be no alliance with the lord of Legar. Now, Cabe was truly alone unless somehow he could find Darkhorse.

“Then there’s no need for me to remain here,” the warlock stated. He readied himself for the worst. “Am I free to depart or have you told me this fantastic story with the intention of keeping me here?”

The Crystal Dragon no longer seemed even interested in him. He curled up in what was obviously a prelude to slumber. It dismayed Cabe to see what the Dragon King had become. “You were free to go the moment you woke. You are free to go now.”

What are you waiting for?
the sorcerer demanded of himself. To his surprise, he tried once more to convince the Dragon King to see his way. “If you would only consider—”

Glittering, inhuman eyes that had been nearly closed widened. A hiss escaped. “I ssssaid
leave
!”

With those words, the warlock began to spin. Cabe gasped and tried to stop, but was helpless. He spun faster and faster, a frantic, living top. The cavern became first a bright blur and then a murky nothing. Cabe tried to concentrate, but the constant twirling threatened to make him black out. It was all he could do to keep conscious.

All at once, he simply stopped.

With a grunt, the stunned mage fell to the floor, but a floor that was hard and, strangely enough, very uneven. Cabe shook his head, then regretted the action as vertigo set in again. He settled with putting his head in his hands and waiting for the world to come to a halt on its own. Only when it finally did was he willing to look up.

Cabe first saw nothing. Wherever he had landed, it was pitch-black. Cabe summoned a dim sphere of blue light, then grimaced at what the illumination revealed. He was in another tunnel, but unlike the ones leading to the drake lord’s lair, the malignant fog held sway here. That meant that Cabe must be closer to the surface. Closer to the surface and, he suspected, almost beneath the Aramite encampment.

With the Crystal Dragon’s aid no longer a hope, the warlock was on his own. The surface was where he now needed to go, but which was better, he wondered, journeying in the direction he was already facing or turning around and seeing where the other end of the tunnel led? Did he
really
want to continue to the surface or would it benefit him to descend farther into the earth? At this point, it was impossible to tell which path led to the surface and which did not. One thing was certain: no matter which direction he chose, the mage would have to walk. As long as the tendrils of Nimth had hold of Legar above and below ground, the warlock dared not try teleporting save as a last desperate venture. There was too much chance of something going wrong with the spell.

Grumbling, Cabe at last chose the direction he was facing and started walking. What he hoped to accomplish without the aid of the Crystal Dragon, he could not say. Yet, even without the Dragon King’s might behind him, the warlock knew he had to attempt
something.

By the time he did reach the surface, Cabe hoped he would know exactly
what
that something was supposed to be.

ONE HOUR ’TIL
dawn, yes?
thought the blue man. It was hard to be certain in this godforsaken place, but that seemed a good estimate. Kanaan D’Rance estimated he had two hours at most to accomplish his task before Lord D’Farany rose. If all went as his grotesque visitor said, that would perhaps be an hour more than he needed.

D’Rance did not at all trust the macabre creature who had visited his tent, but Plool did indeed know things about sorcery that the northerner had never come across before. What especially interested him, however, was the stranger’s knowledge of the magic that was the fog. With that to add to his own growing skills, the blue man would have need of no one. He could leave the mongrels to their own end.

The blue man entered the tunnel mouth and hurried down the deep, descending path. The guards in the passages would think nothing of him returning since his other work was down here, but those who kept watch in and around the chamber would be suspicious if he entered without Lord D’Farany. None of the Aramites trusted him that far. His skills were still not sufficient enough to deal with so many, otherwise he might have been able to do this without Plool’s aid.

One thing he pondered about was why his bizarre ally could not work the Quel device himself. Plool refused to enter the chamber, not because he did not want to, no, but because he could
not
do so without endangering himself somehow. That, at least, was Kanaan D’Rance’s humble opinion, yes. The creature needed D’Rance for that reason alone and that reason alone was why the blue man knew that the advantage was his. He was familiar enough with the magical device to know some of the things he could do with it, enough that he would be prepared when his ally turned on him.

Plool was still an enigma to him in most other ways and D’Rance was willing to admit that he had perhaps been a bit too hasty in joining forces with the ghastly, deformed mage. Yet, when Plool had spoken of the power to be obtained by working together, it had been too enticing. More than enough power, horrid Plool had hinted, to make the dangers negligible.

He was a part of the mist, that much the blue man had gathered despite his ally’s confusing manner of speech. Plool had come from
somewhere
, drawn to this place at the same time as the fog had been. Plool had originally wanted to go home, but he could not. To open that doorway would require more effort than both he and D’Rance combined could summon. Searching for such power had brought the sorcerer to the camp and the caverns, where he had observed enough to know that somewhere below the surface there was a thing of great potential. Yet, it was a creation of a foreign sorcery. Plool did not understand that sorcery and so had sought out someone who might. Someone who also would have an interest in aiding him. In return, he could show that someone how to manipulate the magic of
his
world. Then, his part of the bargain kept, he would return to that other place—
Nimth
, was it?—and leave the spoils to his temporary ally.

The skill and knowledge to control two very different types of magic. The blue man had taken the bait . . . but was careful only to hold the hook, not bite it. From studying the efforts of Lord D’Farany and devising a few secret theories of his own, he was certain that he knew more than enough to ensure that this partnership would end in his favor. D’Rance even suspected he knew almost all he needed to know about Plool’s magic. In his own grand opinion, he certainly knew enough about the Quel’s creation to guarantee that whatever else happened Plool would not be able to betray him.

Still none of the scattered sentries questioned his presence in the passages. Likewise, he crossed the abandoned city of the diggers without any trouble, save that the damnable mist, which somehow remained strong even down here, made walking a matter of stumbling every few yards. At least it was thin enough here that he could see the men just ahead of him. It would not do to walk into one of the guards. Some of them might be tempted to attack first and question afterward.

Each time, the sentries straightened as he passed, strictly because of his position as aide to their leader, D’Rance understood, and did nothing to slow him. He nodded to each man. With luck, this would be the last time he saw their ugly, pink faces.

Then, almost before he realized it, the blue man was at his destination. The entrance to the chamber stood before him. He saw two guards standing there, seemingly oblivious to him. That, D’Rance was certain, would change with a few more steps. He was puzzled, though, that nothing looked different.
Where are you, my misshapen friend? Something should have happened by now, yes?

“Enter you may, whenever you like,” a familiar voice whispered from his right. “You may enter whenever you like.”