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.
