hypnotic gleam that had stayed her so far.
Her hand came down on the source of the flame and she cupped the mouth, holding her hand over the opening until she was certain she had ended the threat. A simple probe verified that the lamp was once more just a lamp. As long as she did not light it, it could not assault her mind. That was how she had evaded its trickery last time, only to fall victim to it again when-
“Lochivan!”
She knew her anger and her growing exhaustion were making her reckless at a time she should be thinking clearly, but that did not seem to matter the more she thought of the betrayal. Lochivan had always been her good friend, almost as much as Gerrod… who had warned her that his brother’s good company meant nothing when the patriarch gave a command.
“Lochivan, damn you!”
The Tezerenee did have Darkhorse. She remembered everything now, including the brief contact between the ebony stallion and herself. True, Sharissa could no longer sense the eternal, but she knew the trail would point to the drakes and their masters. “Lochivan, you and Barakas better pray to your Dragon of the Depths that Darkhorse escapes and gets you first!”
It would mean a spell of teleportation. She had cast such a spell only a few times over the years, her irrational fear that she would end up in some limbo similar to the Void keeping her from performing the spell on a regular basis. Darkhorse needed her aid, however. She could not know if her father had sensed his former companion’s danger, and Sharissa did not have the time to seek him out-not in her distraught mind, that is. Each moment that passed, and too many had passed already while she hesitated, made rescuing the shadow steed more and more unlikely.
She raised her arms and took a deep breath. A moment to collect her thoughts and she would be gone.
A disturbing sensation brushed her mind. Something flashed around her neck, making it all but impossible to breathe.
Behind her, a voice, Lochivan’s voice, calmly said to another unseen intruder, “Just in time. I told you not to doubt me.”
Sharissa’s world became a buzzing blur… then a shroud of silence and darkness.
VII
“Gerrod.”
He looked up at his sudden guest, the enveloping hood masking any surprise he felt at the newcomer’s intrusion.
“Master Dru.”
In the light that did succeed in invading the hut, Dru Zeree was a fearful sight. Gerrod’s eyes narrowed. The sorcerer’s hair was going gray, and there were lines across his visage. He was worn out from something, yes, but Gerrod recognized something else, something that those who saw the elder Zeree every day would not pay so much attention to because they themselves were probably suffering a similar fate.
The sorcerer was aging. Not at so great a pace as the Tezerenee was, but aging nonetheless. Gerrod shivered. It was yet another confirmation of his fears about this land. Still, the warlock could not help thinking selfishly, Master Zeree has at least had the luxury of enjoying a healthy life span of a few thousand years or so. Why is it I who is cheated?
“I need your help, Tezerenee. You know him better than I, and I think you have the ingenuity that will enable you to follow him wherever he has taken her.”
The warlock shifted, knowing he looked more like a bundle of cloth than a man. He did not care. The cloak and hood allowed him to withdraw from the world for a time. His few visitors also tended to believe that his appearance was designed to unsettle them. “You might explain a little what that statement is supposed to mean to me.”
Dru sighed, trying to remain calm. “Barakas has Sharissa. I’m sure of it.”
Despite his best efforts, Gerrod could not prevent himself from jerking to attention. “What do you mean? Does he think he can hold her in his private little kingdom? My sire has always been mad, but not stupid! What’s happened? Is it civil war at last?”
His visitor waved him to silence. “Let me… let me explain better.” Dru visibly collected his thoughts. “At some point probably three days ago, Sharissa and Darkhorse vanished…” He shook his head. “You don’t know of Dark-horse, do you? I suppose I have to explain him-”
“I know him. Continue on.”
A puzzled look flashed across Dru’s visage, vanishing the instant he resumed his tale. “They disappeared. No one noticed until the next day. I should have, but Sharissa often lost herself in projects lasting through the night. As for Darkhorse, the pocket universe supporting Sirvak Dragoth seems to dull my perceptions of his presence. It wasn’t until I left the citadel and returned to this world that I noticed his absence. Soon after, people began asking about Sharissa. I found she had ridden out of the city in this direction-”
“She visited me. That was how I knew of your Darkhorse.” Gerrod mouthed the words with care, not wanting Sharissa’s father to know just how upset he was becoming. The sorcerer might then wonder why this Tezerenee would be so torn over his daughter’s disappearance. They were known to be friends, of course, but still…
“She returned from that visit. I found that out later on. After questioning a few more trustworthy souls, I learned she was last known to be at work in her chambers. Someone said I should look for a man named Bethken, who had evidently sought Sharissa out for some reason, but I couldn’t find him. His quarters were empty. Anything he could have carried was gone.”
“You think he’s under my father’s protection.”
Dru took a deep breath. Gerrod knew that the worst was yet to come, and he had to admire the elder Zeree’s ability to remain coherent throughout what must surely be an ordeal of the greatest magnitude for him. “I journeyed to the eastern sector of the city, not wanting to believe the patriarch would do something so foolish, but rumors, substantial ones, kept insisting otherwise.” The sorcerer shook his head. “I’ll not go over what I discovered concerning Darkhorse, save that I think he fell to your clan also. His disappearance… total disappearance…”
He touched his temple, indicating that Darkhorse was beyond even his higher senses. Gerrod had already suspected that. He, too, had noted the absence of the creature upon waking that morning. Not knowing any better, he had merely assumed that Darkhorse had departed on some exploration with Sharissa. It would not have been at all surprising. She hated teleportation, and the phantom steed gave her a way of crossing distances in little time.
Gerrod looked up and saw Dru anxiously waiting for him to digest what had already been told. “And what did my father say about all this? I assume he gave you some imperious speech.”
“The sector was empty. They were all gone.”
“What?” In his shock, the warlock knocked over a sheaf of notes, spilling them on the stone floor he had so carefully constructed for this, his latest abode. He ignored the scattered sheets. “What do you mean? Gone? Preposterous!” Yet, despite his words, Gerrod recalled his own past and how swift the clan could be when it desired to move from one location to another. It was one of many aspects of his father’s constant war games, the need to move while the enemy was distracted.
Move over a thousand people during the dead of night? The patriarch would hardly leave his followers behind, not if he was planning a new empire. “Where did they go? East seems likely.”
“I can’t say for certain. Darkhorse’s presence could very well be shielded from me, I suppose.” The elder Zeree was tired, so very tired. Gerrod could sympathize, being just as driven in his own way. If anyone knew of his research and the hope and fear some of it stirred inside him, they might be tempted to put an end to the warlock… or praise him as a hero to his folk. Gerrod had no desire for either destiny. He was not even comfortable with his great discoveries. They promised death as much as they promised life.
“They must have left some trail!” There was something amiss. Something more that the master mage had not yet revealed to him.
He was given the answer almost immediately. “There is a trail, a vague and possibly false one, but I lack the
