Legends of the Dragonrealm: Shade (41 page)

Forcing himself up, the sorcerer took Valea by the waist and pulled
her farther from the tear. The radiance extended from the pocket world, adding a beauty to this area of the Hell Plains. With it came the last notes of the phoenix’s song.

With a crackle, the tear sealed itself, vanishing as if it never was.

Unable to push on, Shade rested Cabe’s daughter against a rock. He took a step away, then weaved as exhaustion threatened him. He put a hand to his face to wipe away sweat—and saw the baked crimson earth through his palm.

Only with effort was he able to hold back a cry. The curse had been a part of him for so long that even having been tied into the tower’s energies to so great an extent had not freed him from it.

A moan alerted him to Valea’s stirring. Shade studied the enchantress closely, his decision already made.

VALEA AWOKE TO
the fear that the world was collapsing around her. Instead, she found herself in the Hell Plains. Alone.

“Shade!” Her first horrified thought was that he had been left behind, but she vaguely recalled arriving here with him. She looked around yet saw no sign of him. “Shade!”

Another presence stirred. Valea looked down at the ebony sphere. She pointed at it.

“Free! Free!” Darkhorse blossomed fully formed. Once again the ghostly stallion, he spun in a circle not possible for a true equine as he searched for the same person she did. “Shade! Where is he?”

“Gone.” A terrible suspicion overtook her.
Could it be? Could he still be suffering?

After all he had been through, the thought that he was still afflicted made her want to sob. Yet, Valea held back. Losing control would avail neither Shade nor her. She would have to track him down, have to find him and help him.

But first, there was something else she had to do.

“Darkhorse . . . Darkhorse, can you take me to Penacles?” It was where she thought her parents likely were. Lochivar had been marching on the Gryphon’s city; they would be there.

Unless Penacles had fallen.

“I will take you there,” the eternal promised, creating two arms to pluck her up to his back. “And when all is well there, we will see to him, I promise.”

Valea silently nodded, her concern for her parents’ safety matched only by that for the sorcerer. Still, there was nothing she could do for him at the moment, while her parents might yet need her aid.

As Darkhorse charged off, she eyed the area where the entrance to the pocket world had been one last time . . . and brooded about what might have been.

CABE HESITATED WITH
his next spell, still unwilling to believe the sight before him but unable to deny it. The seemingly unstoppable ranks of the undead had but a few minutes before begun to act oddly. They had moved as if without direction, swinging this way and that or simply wandering off.

And then they collapsed. As simple as that. They fell as one, their rotting body parts scattering along the marshy landscape, their weapons sinking into the ground.

The defenders, believing this to be the work of the Bedlams, let out lusty cheers and surged forward to take on the stunned enemy.

As that happened, the titanic struggle between Dragon Kings itself took an unexpected turn. Although still fighting to a stalemate with the lord of the Dagora Forest, the Red Dragon suddenly pushed himself away from the combat. He let loose with a wild plume of fire and magma and, as his elder counterpart dove aside to evade it, spun about and headed back toward the Hell Plains.

It was enough to crush what little morale remained among the Red
Dragon’s servants. The front lines splintered. Those farther back began to retreat. The retreat became a rout as the other red dragons followed their master and abandoned the forces on the ground.

“What in the name of the Dragon of the Depths happened?” the wizard could not help finally blurting out as the Jaruu and the rest scattered over the horizon. The forces gathered by the Green Dragon pursued them, but slowly, in case of a trap. It was not wise to venture too far into Wenslis, even if its drake lord had not taken part in the battle itself.

The forest-green leviathan landed a short distance away. As he did, his body shrank and his wings shriveled until they vanished. The legs straightened, becoming the limbs of a towering, armored figure. The reptilian visage slid upward, not only becoming an elaborate crest atop a helm but also revealing a half-visible, more human face beneath the false headpiece.

“Sssomething hasss happened to the Lordsss of the Dead!” the Green Dragon hissed. “They would not abandon their plan ssso unless they had to!”

“But why would Lord Red still flee? With the Black Dragon allied with him?”

“Isss he ssstill? Can you contact your wife?”

Cabe did just that.
Gwen! What happens in Penacles? Anything out of the ordinary?

Her response was immediate.
Lochivar is in disarray! There is no coordination, little leadership! The black drakes are retreating from the field and their human warriors are milling about! There are pockets of resistance, but they’re fading!

He thanked her for the news and promised to be there shortly with a surprise, then relayed everything to the Green Dragon. The drake lord was equally pleased and perplexed.

“Something is wrong with Black,” Cabe said. “Red might be unseasoned enough to panic at the first hint of a plan gone awry, but Black would keep his teeth sunk into it until the bitter end.”

“Very true . . . ssstill, we will take the victory, eh?”

“Oh, yes, we will.” The wizard glanced toward his son. “I need to take him to his mother. He can leave once she’s seen him again, if he chooses.”

The drake lord gestured toward Aurim with his maimed limb. “Thisss wasss not asss I intended. Their choice wasss their own.” The Green Dragon hissed. “Asss for the sssituation between you and me . . .”

Cabe had no desire to speak of this now. “One thing at a time.”

“Asss you sssay. One thing at a time.” The Dragon King gazed at his army. “Forgive me. It would be bessst if I inform my emperor, then sssee to the end of thisss . . . what little there isss left, that isss.”

The drake lord transformed again, then took to the sky. Cabe watched him fly toward the rout, then returned to Aurim. Wrapping his arms around the younger Bedlam, Cabe murmured, “Now, if we could just find your sister . . .”

The pair vanished, reappearing in the palace. Gwen sensed his presence and turned.

She stared at Aurim, then rushed to his side. He opened his eyes just as she reached him.

“Mother?” Aurim’s eyes darted around. “Penacles?”

“For now,” Cabe interjected. “Afterward, you go where you please.”

The Gryphon chose that moment to join them, Troia at his side. He still looked weak, but not as much as Cabe would have thought. “Lochivar is in full retreat and the mists are fading. While I am very happy about this turn, do either of you have an explanation?”

Cabe repeated what he and the Green Dragon had discussed. The Gryphon cocked his head as he listened.

“I will inform General Marner. If the Black Dragon is dead or at least incapacitated . . .” The lionbird let out a short squawk. “Best not to expect too much. We shall see what happens.”

A massive and very welcome form materialized with a dramatic rumble of thunder in the center of the chamber. Darkhorse looked around. “Ahh! At last! Here you all are!”

But as welcome as the eternal’s arrival was, for Cabe and Gwen the
greater joy was for Darkhorse’s passenger. Valea, looking very drawn, managed to dismount without the stallion’s aid. She looked at her family, brightened briefly at her brother’s presence, then stared longest at Cabe.

Valea fell into his arms. The enchantress planted her head in his chest and shook.

“Oh, Father . . . ,” she whispered. “Oh, Father . . .”

CABE AND THE GRYPHON
surveyed both fronts for more than a week, but the routs of the two Dragon Kings’ armies appeared real. Talak’s forces arrived in time to join with the Green Dragon’s to push Red’s servants deep into the Hell Plains. They did not pursue farther but kept their presence there long enough to make certain that the lord of the fiery realm would understand the foolhardiness of trying to advance again . . . at least for now.

Little word had come from Melicard himself, but reports filtered in that when the king was not with his children, he spent much of his time in the lower reaches of the palace. Thus far, Melicard had sent no word to the wizard concerning removing the amber shell around his queen’s body. Cabe was concerned about the king but held his counsel for now.

With the retreat of the Black Dragon’s followers, General Marner led Penacles’s military a day’s march into Lochivar. The Grey Mists continued to fade, making it safe for the Gryphon’s army to enter.

Three days after that, a party led by a drake named Karkus—a son of the Black Dragon not known by the Gryphon to be any heir to Lochivar’s lord—came representing the southeastern realm.

“Very polite he was,” Marner informed his master later. “Very eager to show that all aggressions between his sire and us were at an end. He’s made some heavy promises, which he backed up with written words.”

Those promises included more security against Lochivar than they had gained in all the two centuries of the Gryphon’s rule. It added fuel to Cabe’s theory that something had happened to the drake lord, but not death.

“We shall find out eventually what happened to the Black Dragon,” the lionbird said to the wizard upon the latter’s return more than a week later to Penacles. “But for now, I am pleased with the peace.”

“Let’s hope that it lasts a little longer than the previous one,” Cabe replied. He did not bring up something else bothering him, something having to do with a change the mage felt in the very land itself. Cabe could not describe that change save that the Dragonrealm just felt
different
. His daughter knew something, but she had thus far kept quiet.

“And speaking of peace, how fares your family?”

The wizard looked less pleased. “Gwen’s happy with Aurim’s visit. We’ve begun talking about our other situations.” The Gryphon was still unaware of some of the true reasons for the differences between father and son, for which Cabe was grateful. “He’s returned to the Dagora Forest, but he’ll be back.”

“With her?” the Gryphon asked, referring to the Green Dragon’s daughter.

“Very likely.” It was not a situation that Cabe wished to discuss any further and his tone gave hint of that.

The Gryphon nodded his understanding, then broached another subject. “And your daughter?”

It was another subject better left for later, but the lord of Penacles deserved an answer in this case. “Valea knows more than she’s told us. I’m hoping that she’ll open up to us rather than do something foolish.”

“You hope.”

Cabe exhaled. “I can
only
hope.”

“Where is she now? Has she returned to Kivan Grath?” The Dragon
Emperor had sent apologies and gifts to Valea for the troubles he had caused her and had invited her to visit with him and his sister to make amends.

“No. Kyl’s going to have to suffer some guilt for a while longer, apparently. Actually, Valea asked to visit her brother. We thought it good for her. Keep her mind off of him.”

The Gryphon blinked. “And what do we do about ‘him’? What do we do about Shade?”

The wizard considered carefully. From what he gathered, Shade had done much to be praised for.

And yet . . . “We do what we must. We do what we must.”

The lionbird nodded grimly.

DARKHORSE RACED THROUGH
the woods, crossing distances impossible for any mortal steed. Astride him, Valea let the wind cool her face as she rode. She was grateful for the shadow steed’s presence; at this time, the enchantress needed his companionship. Her brother would have also been of great comfort but they were far, far from the Dagora Forest.

She hated having lied to her parents. They thought Valea would be visiting Aurim. By the time they found out, she would be far from their senses. Matters were too critical in her mind to hesitate. She had to find him.

And that was why she was in the hills far beyond northwest Esedi.

This time Valea was ready for them. She had cast several spells to triangulate their location and had cast others to take into account whatever spells they had to protect themselves. Valea was taking no chances.

She sensed something. “Darkhorse. Turn north.”

He obeyed without question. When she had revealed the truth about her trip, the eternal had agreed to carry Valea. He was the only one she could trust to follow this through with her.

“Not much farther,” the enchantress whispered to her companion. “Slow your pace . . .”

Darkhorse obeyed again.

SHADE TOOK
a deep breath as he paused in his search. The Ice Dragon’s shattered citadel had revealed more than a few intriguing secrets, but none thus far that seemed of help in his desperate quest.

He had been ready to avoid any repeat of the incident with whatever ghoulish guardians might remain, but his brother had evidently dealt with that problem thoroughly during their previous visit. That gave Shade more time to fruitlessly rummage among the ice-and-snow-covered remnants of the dead drake lord’s arcane collection.

Nothing. Nothing remains
. If the Ice Dragon had had any artifact or tome relating to a course that might save Shade, it had been either taken long ago, or buried or destroyed in the collapse.

The clouds formed by his breathing mocked him, for they hinted at life when he had none. There had been no new periods of darkness, but the sorcerer was certain that they would return with more frequency as time went on. Better that he had somehow managed to thrust Valea out of the pocket world and stayed behind, forever trapped.

The enchantress’s graceful face formed in his thoughts. Shade tried in vain to dismiss it. There had been a fleeting hope during the quest that there might be more to his existence than constantly trying to save himself while battling the dual sides of his nature.