There was no denying the visage. There were differences, of course, but his race was not in question. He was an elf.
Judging by the blood and bruises, he had resisted their questioning. Sharissa glanced up at the two guards, but they were untouched by her smoldering eyes.
The elf began to cough. His eyes opened, handsome almond-shaped tears. It took him a moment to focus and, when he did, he seemed surprised.
“Eve-even among the living death there-there is beauty. Impossible to-to believe you have such a heart of stone.”
He had taken her for one of them. “I’m not-”
“You must come back with us now, Lady Sharissa,” a cold female voice said. The Lady Alcia’s bodyguards stood directly on each side of her. Coughing once more, the elf forced his gaze upward, despite the fact that it obviously hurt him to move so much. He eyed the two with interest, then returned his gaze to Sharissa.
“My lady,” the bodyguard urged. “This is not something to concern yourself with.”
As if on cue, the two warriors holding the elf turned their prize away and once more began to drag him away. Sharissa started after them, but the bodyguards held her back.
“He was part of a force of elves that sought to come upon us through stealth and kill us. With the demon’s aid, we detected them and caught them by surprise.”
“You made Darkhorse aid you in killing them?” The sorceress doubted that the story was as Lady Tezerenee had told it. More than likely, the elves had been scouting the citadel, wondering what it was. Still, what was a party of elves doing on the eastern continent when-
“I see by your eyes that you’ve finally come to the realization. I wondered for a time whether or not your mind was functioning well.” Lady Alcia nodded, the smile on her face much akin to the one the patriarch wore when he was pleased with results. “Yes, this is indeed the Dragonrealm, Sharissa.”
“How could you… Darkhorse again! Everything you’ve accomplished is because of him! You still haven’t brought me to him! Is he dead? Injured?”
At a signal from the matriarch, the bodyguards politely but firmly began to guide a struggling Sharissa back toward the citadel. Lady Alcia walked before them, still acting as if she and Sharissa were amiable companions. “How do you kill a thing that does not, by any standards we know, live? He’s been disciplined, but no more than any other disobedient subject has. When he performs well, he is rewarded as well.”
“Rewarded?” Other than freedom, the Tezerenee could have nothing the shadow steed wanted.
“We want him to be a part of the clan’s destiny as much as we want you to be.”
“You want him to save you from the Seekers! Even Darkhorse won’t be enough to hold them back! He’ll probably laugh while the bird people tear your empire down around you!”
“The avians no longer represent a threat… at least, not one that we cannot deal with ourselves.”
Sharissa stretched forward, trying to come alongside the Lady Tezerenee. “What do you mean?”
Alcia considered the question for a time before finally replying, “It might be better to show you.”
“Show me?”
“We brought a few of them in for study. So far, we have not found a cause for their fate.” The matriarch had altered direction. The two bodyguards steered the helpless Sharissa after her. She did not struggle, for once truly wanting to follow. If what Lady Alcia had said was true, then there remained no force capable of withstanding the Tezerenee, especially if Darkhorse was their tool.
“You know,” her host remarked, stopping and turning around so that the two faced one another. “I think this would be an excellent opportunity to show you the true depth of our strength!”
“What do you…” Sharissa began, but Lady Alcia merely snapped her fingers…
… and they were standing in another chamber, a dark, dank place lit by torches. A Tezerenee leaning over a table looked up. Sharissa, still in shock from the unexpected teleport, did not immediately recognize his shadowed visage.
“You did that as if it were nothing! All four of us! But I thought that you-”
“The old ways are returning. It is as if Nimth is part of us again.” A smile, a Tezerenee smile, slowly spread across the striking face. “We are not the near gods of our past, but we are again a sorcerous power to be respected.”
“It’s as if our destiny is being drawn for us by the hands of the founders themselves,” added the figure by the table. “The day promised to us by the Dragon of the Depths has come.”
Sharissa struggled with her captors. “Lochivan!”
“I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me, Sharissa.” Lochivan wore no helm; he seemed actually sad, though she was not so willing to believe him after his betrayal. “I truly think it would have been best if-”
“That will be all, my son.”
“Forgive you, Lochivan? I wouldn’t-”
He vanished before she could finish. Sharissa ended with a scream of frustration instead.
“When you are more willing, the two of you should talk,” the Lady Tezerenee said in a calm voice. She pointed at the table. “For now, this is what should concern you. This is what you wanted to see.”
Sharissa blinked and glanced without care at the thing on the table. An artifact. A statue carved to resemble a Seeker. Of what interest…
“She does not understand. Bring her closer.”
In silent obedience, the two bodyguards brought Sharissa within an arm’s length of the table and its contents.
She gave it another glance… and could not pull herself away from the thing’s contorted form. The careful detail of horror, the avian eyes staring at death. The mouth open in futile rejection of fate. The awkward sprawl of the body.
It appeared the consistency of marble, this thing before her, but Sharissa knew that if she touched the long, sleek wing or the muscular torso, she would not feel stone, but rather feather and flesh.
“The Dragonrealm is ours, and without even a fight,” Lady Alcia said with satisfaction. Sharissa looked up, unable to think of anything sufficient to say. The matriarch added, “My husband is disappointed. He so much looked forward to a good battle… with us winning, of course.”
As she spoke the last, one hand absently scratched at the reddish area on her neck.
IX
From the tower in which his private chambers lay, Barakas Tezerenee watched the vanishing of his wife and the others. Sharissa Zeree would be suitably impressed with the way of things by the time Alcia was finished. Her encounter with the elfin prisoner had been perfectly orchestrated, as he had expected. There lay potential in that meeting; unless he missed his guess, she would try her best to speak to the prisoner in private… although it would not be so private as she believed.
All things come together, the patriarch thought in satisfaction. He patted a square container upon which the mark of the Tezerenee had been emblazoned.
“Father?”
Barakas turned and faced Lochivan, who had materialized, as was proper, on one knee with his head bent downward. “All goes well, my son?”
“Yes, my lord. Sharissa is in the chamber even now. By this time, she is aware of the nature of the corpse.”
“Perhaps she can tell us what happened. That would be an added prize.”
“Does it matter so?”
“We must strive to further ourselves. If the legacy of the avians can aid us, so be it.” The patriarch looked down at his son. “You are a few minutes early.”
Lochivan did not look up. “I deemed it more beneficial to our goals that I depart the chamber. Sharissa is not comfortable in my presence.”
“She will have to learn if she is to marry your brother.”
