As Gerrod stepped into the cavern chamber, the Quel within looked up from whatever they were doing and stared at him. Unlike those he had met so far, these eyed him more with an open curiosity than with contempt or hatred. Gerrod met the studious gaze of one and noted an intelligence there that was far above those who had brought him here.
The Quel conversed for several seconds, the sounds emitted by the sentry indicating the respect in which it held the others. When that was done, the one who had matched gazes with Gerrod stepped forward. It waved a paw at the warlock, who walked in cautious fashion toward it, his eyes constantly returning to the guard. Quite suddenly, Gerrod wanted to leave this place and return to the monotony of the tunnels or even the blood-coursing fear of a cavern crossing. He knew now that he had at last reached his destination.
As ever, the Quel seemed to take his responses with a touch of amusement. Dru Zeree’s short experience with the monsters had told the warlock little; most of the Quel the sorcerer had encountered had died shortly after in combat with a party of Seekers.
Would that I could trade places with you now, Master Zeree, Gerrod thought sourly.
Behind him, he heard the guard depart.
A host of Quel descended upon him before he was halfway to the one who had summoned him forward. The hooded Tezerenee buried himself in the confines of his cloak and cursed his inability to defend himself. Even a sword or ax would have been nice. It would have at least given him some comfort in his final moments.
They hovered about him, gesturing and hooting to one another like a parliament of owls. Several of them spoke to him, their unintelligible comments often ending on a questioning note.
One outshouted the rest, possibly the same one who had first waved to him. It indicated he should follow it. Glad of anything that would free him of the imposing circle of figures, Gerrod obeyed.
There was a platform in the center of the room, a low one, which was why he had not seen it behind the Quel when he had first arrived. On it were arrayed several rows of crystals, some in patterns and some not. Many individual stones had been purposely cut to create new shapes. The Quel leader-Gerrod was willing to assume that this was the leader-picked one up and held it out to the Vraad.
Fascination momentarily overwhelming caution, he took the crystal from the outstretched paw.
Understanding-cooperation-question?
Caught unaware by the immediate influx of images and impressions, the Vraad dropped the gem. The chaos in his mind evaporated like so much early-morning dew. “Manee’s madness!” he swore, eyeing the jewel as if it were alive.
“What was that you… did you…”
The Quel who had given him the crystal pointed to it again. With so many fearsome faces around him, Gerrod could do nothing but obey, yet he moved with as much caution as he felt they would allow him. He had a fair idea of what purpose the crystal served, but the sensations that had invaded his thoughts had frightened him.
His hand snared the gem… and the impressions returned to torment his mind.
Weak… elf… question?… Quel… enemy… question?
“Not so fast!” The images became jumbled. The warlock saw distended versions of himself and the Quel. There was also what must have been an elf.
The crystal served as a way of communication, but it was limited when dealing with two such diverse minds. A Quel obviously did not think in the same terms as a Vraad. Still, it was better than no communication at all. Gerrod simply had to puzzle out the images.
He wondered why his captors needed no such gems, but then recalled all of the crystals embedded in their armored hides. Why not include one of these among the rest? They would never be without a means of understanding an outsider. The guards had understood him after all; it was just that he had been without a means of translating their words and thoughts.
Elf… question?
Did they think he was an elf? “No, not an elf. I’m a Vraad. Vraad.”
Vraad… question?… nest… question?
What did they mean… “Do you want to know where I come from?”
He felt an impression of approval. The Quel, long experienced in this method of communication, were having an easier time understanding him.
Though he did not have to speak, Gerrod felt more comfortable doing so. “I come from-” Should he tell them about Nimth? The colony? “I come from across the seas to the east.”
No other land… statement!.. arrival here… question?
They refused to believe in the other continent. Could this be the work of the guardians, the founders’ magical servants? “I came from across the seas. I didn’t mean to come here. It was an accident.”
Land is dying… statement!.. Sheekas… Seekers… same… question?… loosen living death… horror… statement!.. Lost… statement!.. winged ones triumphant… statement!
“Wait! Please wait!” Too much at once! “The land is dying? Which land?”
He saw the very terrain he had walked through for the last two days. For the first time, he felt the despair of the armadillolike race. Why had he not noticed the bleakness of the landscape the first time? There was some plant life, but it was widely scattered and barely able to sustain itself. “This land? This land is dying?”
The Seekers-his host had picked up the Vraad name for the avians-had unleashed some living death upon their foes. Gerrod felt a chill when the Quel thought about what had happened. Whatever the avians had loosed had sucked the life from this domain.
“I understand… I think.”
He was buffeted by more. Now that he had been told of the disaster that had befallen them, the Quel showed him the dead, petrified corpses that were cold to the touch. Gerrod watched wave after wave of Seekers dive from the sky to finish the task, not an actual event, he discovered, but simply the way the Quel visualized their slaughter by their avian foes. They had not actually seen any of the bird people since the last desperate gamble that had saved a portion of their race. It was a certainty among the Quel that the Seekers would soon be on their way.
Their mortal foes would find this domain bereft of survivors. The earth dwellers had planned for this eventuality.
Cities abandoned… statement!.. the dead left behind, a trick on the birds… statement!.. survivors gathered in this cavern, a place unknown to the Seekers… statement!
It was becoming a little easier to understand them. Each time the Quel told him of something, the crystal indicated whether it was a query or a comment. He admired the skill with which the artifact had been crafted, but wondered how the gems could work so close to whatever it was that made sorcery impossible here.
It occurred to him that he had not tested his powers in the last few minutes. Perhaps he was no longer bereft of his abilities. It might be interesting to-
The same images and impressions struck him again, only with more force. This time, he paid more attention to them; realizing that there must be a reason they were telling him all of this. What he had taken for a city, for instance, had not been such, at least not compared to what the images revealed to him. Though underground, what the Quel passed on to him was more like what he would have recognized as normal. There were buildings and roads, yet all of it was still deep beneath the earth. The huge cavern that he had passed through had been dug out as a precaution, a place for the Quel to flee should their cities be assaulted.
And so they had been.
More and more was impressed upon him until Gerrod had finally had enough. He put up a halting hand-hoping the Quel understood its meaning-and said, “You want something of me. What is it?”
You elf/not elf… statement!/question?
He nodded slowly. “Yes, I am not an elf, but there are similarities.” Had he gotten the meaning correct? Should he tell them that they and the elves shared with him a common heritage? Should he mention to them that the Seekers as well were related? Gerrod covertly scanned his companions and decided that it would not be an intelligent move to introduce such radical notions to creatures who could tear him apart without exerting themselves. “You had your patrols searching for elves, didn’t you? One of them just lucked onto me instead.”
Several Quel broke into muted conversations. The warlock knew he had guessed correctly; they had sought out an elf, and the patrol, not familiar with the Vraad race, had taken him for one of the woodland dwellers. In their eyes, the physical differences between elf and Vraad were fairly nonexistent.
Short path of travel… statement! The Quel leader took Gerrod by the arm, its grip surprisingly gentle. The
