Purpose of crystals… weapon against enemy/foe bird folk… statement!/question?
“What? Oh.” Gerrod nodded, yawning. “It might be a weapon you could use against the Seekers.” He had no idea how it might be used as such, but Gerrod was certain it could be turned into a weapon. By that time, he hoped to turn it on his captors instead.
A neglected part of his mind summoned up the fate of Sharissa, recalling to him his original purpose. He fought it down, convincing himself that this crystal chamber would aid him in that respect, if only by giving him time to plot his escape. That he would have been drawn to the cavern regardless was a point he tried not to dwell upon. Forsaking Sharissa for his own interests, even for a time, was something he would have expected of his father.
Period of rest… statement!
“I…” Gerrod could not recall what it was he had wanted to say. He yawned-long and hard this time. A sleeping potion in his food. Why had he not thought of that? The warlock laid his head back and yawned again. Did it really matter? He could begin his escape plans when he woke. Yes, that sounded better. He would be well-rested after this, and any plan required his utmost strength and concentration.
Agreeable… passive be… statement! came the projection from the Quel beside him. Gerrod nodded. Whatever his host wanted, so long as it meant sleep. Come the morrow-or whenever he finally woke-the Tezerenee would begin his plotting.
As he began to drift off, Gerrod thought he heard someone chuckle. It was not a sound that Quel were capable of imitating properly, and he knew it was not his own voice he heard. For a time, the warlock struggled to stay awake, waiting for the sound to reoccur. He was still straining to hear it again when he finally lost the struggle with the god of sleep and faded away.
Escape, he found later, would not be so simple. Two days-estimated, since he could not see the sun-passed. It was not merely the efforts of his companions that kept him in the underground world, but his own overwhelming sense of discovery. There was too much that beckoned him in a way akin to the chamber of crystal, albeit not with such consistent attraction. Though they were by no means the masters of crystal sorcery that the builders of the chamber had been, the Quel were not without skill. Gerrod had yet to see, much less inspect, the thing that they called the “gatherer,” but he imagined it to be a gem of astonishing proportions if what the lender conveyed to him was true. How it was able to absorb and distribute the magical forces for use by the Quel was a thing beyond him. It was, besides the ancient cavern, the only place they would not allow him to roam.
Walking with the leader, who was male after all, the warlock fingered some of the small gemstones in his belt pouch. They were akin to the one that allowed him to speak with the Quel and probably could be turned to that use, but he had other ideas concerning them. It was surprisingly easy to obtain them; they were mined in such vast quantities that he had been stunned when first shown. Each young Quel was brought here soon after birth. They were identical in almost every way to the parents, save for the soft almost unfurrowed shells that would change and harden over the years. The crystals of understanding, which was as close as Gerrod could comprehend the title, were among the first and foremost received by the young when the shells grew ridged. The hard skin would eventually grow to cover most of each crystal, forever making it a part of the creature and ensuring that, at least from the Quel side, communication of a sort would always be maintained.
Stealing three from a hill of thousands had been childishly easy. So easy, in fact, that Gerrod wondered from time to time whether his companion had wanted him to take the gems. No matter. They represented the first inklings of a plan of escape, a plan that would only take place once he had returned to the cavern and confronted the truth behind the faces-not to mention whatever other secrets lay within.
Let us not forget Sharissa! he chided himself. It was becoming too easy to lose track of his situation. Not just Dru Zeree’s daughter, either. It was also too easy to forget what his true visage resembled-an aging, doddering fool of a Vraad. That was what Gerrod saw every time his reflection caught his eye.
A nervous Quel rushed up to the leader and the two began a series of rapid responses to one another. Even with the crystal, the warlock could make no sense of what they said. The images he received were murky, almost as if the Quel were making an effort to prevent him from understanding. It did not surprise him; he knew that his time with them was limited to his usefulness. He also knew what they would do when the secrets of the crystal cavern were theirs.
The leader whirled on him, dark eyes narrowed. He hooted low and quick, a sign of anger and worry as Gerrod read it. The surface… spy in the sky… observation of intention… statement!
The Tezerenee was dragged along while he was still attempting to decipher the message. Something was happening on the surface, a scout or someone… in the sky?
A Seeker?
The three of them entered yet another chamber that Gerrod had not come across before. How extensive was the domain of the Quel? He had been given to believe that they held only a remnant of their former power. If so, then their empire had rivaled that of the Seekers in scope.
A handful of Quel surrounded an image. The warlock, peering over tall, rounded shoulders, watched as a tiny figure fluttered over a miniature land no larger than Gerrod’s forearm. The entire scene was being projected through a crystal that stood on a tripod in the middle of the room.
It was indeed a Seeker. Gerrod did not recognize the landscape, but from its rocky and nearly barren appearance, he felt safe in assuming it was part of the peninsula that was the Quel’s home.
The Seeker paused in midflight, its wings beating rapidly to keep it in the air. The image was too small to identify it as male or female; as with the Quel, the two sexes were too similar to identify readily.
One of the watchers grunted and touched a side of the crystal. The scene magnified. It was a female, the Tezerenee saw, though the information made no difference. He still did not know why a lone Seeker would risk death to come to the land of its hereditary enemies.
Reaching to her neck, the avian tugged at a chain. Gerrod squinted and saw the medallion hanging by a chain around her throat. The medallion was almost the Seeker equivalent of the crystals the Quel utilized; it generally protected its wearer and contained some vicious spell. Not a few of his clan had died facing weapons such as this. The Tezerenee moved as close as he could to the image. Beside him, the Quel leader glanced his way, but ignored him further when he saw what the tiny human was about.
The Seeker removed her medallion-and promptly dropped it into the dirt far below her.
Among the Quel, there was a stirring of confusion.
The leader gave a command, again something that Gerrod could not make out. He knew by now that he was being purposely blocked out.
Some of the Quel turned to their superior with a sense of confusion evident in their movements. One bleated, the questioning note undeniable.
Shoving the hapless Vraad to one side-and almost against the far wall-the leader faced his questioner and repeated his command.
Dipping his head, the questioner returned to the crystal and, under the watchful gaze of all present, including the recovered Gerrod, touched another face of the crystal.
During the brief encounter, the Seeker had remained where she was, still hovering. Only as the one Quel touched the gemstone did the Vraad realize that the avian had been offering a truce. She would have to know that the Quel controlled this region. Her life had been offered in exchange for a meeting.
The Quel leader chose to decline that offer.
Blinding brilliance filled the image, forcing many of the huge, armadillolike creatures to shield their eyes and momentarily stunning the unprepared human. Gerrod blinked time and time again until at last some semblance of vision returned to him. He looked up, trying to see around the swimming spots that dotted everything in sight. The image, too, had cleared, and the warlock was able to make out glittering hills and the occasional tough plant. Of the Seeker, he saw no sign.
The same Quel who had controlled the crystal before now touched it again. Gerrod watched the scene shift, abandoning the sky view for one that observed more of the surface. The leader hooted, his tone and stance smug.
When he saw what remained of the ambassador of the Seekers, the Tezerenee was relieved that he could not smell it as well.
The Quel were well-defended. The lone avian never had hope. In what reminded Gerrod of a horrible parody of many a fine meal he had eaten, her charred corpse lay sprawled on the hard ground. The female’s face, what
