The Quel did not always think in terms of night and day, a fact that turned Gerrod about more than once. His companionable captors kept track of the passage of days for many general purposes, but sleep evidently was something one did when one was tired and not because the sun had set. Even at night, the caverns were generally lit, some of the energy of the sun having been stored away in crystals whose function mimicked that of the gatherer crystal. This excess energy allowed the earth dwellers to work at their project on a full-day basis, newcomers spelling those whose period of work was at an end.
Now Gerrod stood before the pitch-black entranceway to the cavern of crystals-or cavern of faces, as he had come to think of it. This was his third time at this place, the second having occurred approximately yesterday by his calculations. He felt as if he had hardly recovered from that farce. Five minutes trying to combat the whispering visages, to conquer them, had left him drained, helpless. Only the fact that he had prearranged with the Quel leader a time limit had saved him. It had also, unfortunately, proved to him that he could not succeed in there without performing one particular spell first.
The Gerrod Tezerenee who stood before the fearsome chamber was a different Gerrod than the one the Quel had first captured. Sharissa would have known him. She would have seen the face she was so very used to, the one that, until now, had been a mask only for the last year or more.
He was young again, full of a great vitality that was more than what rest and food alone could bring. Utilizing the chamber demanded physical strength and endurance of the supplicant. Gerrod, loathing every moment required of the spell, had summoned the old Vraad sorcery again, uncertain as to what damage it might cause but knowing he had to be at his physical best for the chamber. Those who had designed the chamber had been more, so much more than the lone Tezerenee. Even now, temporarily young again, he risked overtaxing his mind and heart.
A Quel beside him hooted in impatience. The creature’s call did not translate, which meant that it was merely a hint, not some statement berating his hesitation. Nonetheless, Gerrod knew he had to begin. The longer he waited, the less patient his inhuman companions would grow.
He stepped inside… and back into the world of madness.
The faces began their urgent whispering again. He still had no idea what they were trying to tell him, and this time the warlock did not care. Only one task was of any importance now.
His head started to swim. “Not this time!”
Long, forced strides took him across the chamber. His last two visits were jumbled memories, but he thought he recalled a set of crystals in the wall that differed from the others. At the very least, faces had not stared back at him from there.
Might they be the key to controlling this place?
He was already tiring. Even his renewed youth was not sufficient. A new, wild fear arose within him, that his spell was wearing away. He had wanted to save the rejuvenation spell until death was nearly calling for him; there was no telling how many times he could extend his life span this way. Binding himself to the magic of this world held no promise, either. Extend his life he might, but as what sort of creature? A part of him whispered that his fears were all panic and nothing more, but the warlock paid as little heed to that whispering as he did the rest.
A little further. His goal lay before him, almost within arm’s reach. The whispering grew more intense and he almost paused, hearing for the first time a snatch or two of coherent speech.
“-not bow to me! If they will not, I will raze the city and all its-”
“-and that I should have started all this! Would that I could have turned time back, warned my-”
No! He would not listen! With a deep breath, Gerrod lunged at the wall where the faceless crystals were fixed.
The chamber was flooded with intense light.
The hood protected his eyes for the most part, although annoying sprites danced about for several seconds before his constant blinking dispersed them. Gerrod blinked one last time and turned to see what changes he had wrought. He knew without having to look that the whisperers had vanished. Certainly they had at least stopped their infernal murmur.
For a short time, he could only stand there, wondering if perhaps he had transported himself somehow to another chamber.
There was a world beyond the walls. No matter which direction he looked, save for where the controlling crystals were, Gerrod gained the impression that he was now inside a glass room of sorts. The many facets of the crystalline walls distorted the images, but the warlock could easily make out hills to one side and a smattering of trees near them. If he turned halfway around, he saw more hills and a grassy field in which a small herd of what appeared to be wild horses grazed.
“Where is this place?” he muttered. “Where am I?”
As if in response, the world vanished, to be replaced by a view that-he narrowed his eyes and studied the landscape before him-that could only be his father’s Dragonrealm as seen from one of the moons!
“Serkadion Manee’s bones!” he whispered in awe. The ancient Vraad would have relished this sight. Gerrod had read some of the elder Zeree’s tomes, including one by the long-lost Manee himself. A vain soul, he had shared one thing with the sorcerer and Gerrod. A love of discovery, especially when it concerned knowledge.
“Sharissa!” he whispered to himself, so used to talking out loud for the mere sake of hearing another human voice. “I can use this to find her!”
And small good that will do you! the warlock thought in the next instant. How will knowing where she is help when you yourself are a prisoner here!
Where was here? He studied the vast display, taking into account the slight deviations due to the multitude of crystal faces that made up the image, and finally found what he sought. A tiny mark much like a dragon glowed near the outermost tip of the continent. It was a peninsula, as he had thought.
“And Sharissa Zeree?” It was a wild hope, but that was the only kind Gerrod knew of late.
As he feared, nothing happened.
“Perhaps if I picture her.” He thought it would be an impossible task, so rarely had he seen her in the past few years, but her face and form proved quite distinct from the moment Gerrod concentrated. Her flowing silver- blue hair, the perpetual smile that was caused by the peculiar yet haunting curve at each end of her mouth, the bright, inquisitive eyes that glittered so much more than those of other Vraad…
“Dragon’s blood!” The poetic touches to his thoughts were ousted before the truth of them became too much. He succeeded in keeping his imagination to the more mundane, picturing her as best he could and thinking location… location… in so adamant a way that the other, more private thoughts could not gain a foothold again.
The panoramic display before him clouded… and became a dark cavern so overwhelming that Gerrod forgot for a moment that he was not standing within it, but only viewing it from afar.
Better…
The cavern scene vanished as Gerrod’s sudden panic at the ghostly whisper in his mind made him think of escape. No new image replaced the old; the crystalline walls remained cloud-filled.
“Who is that?” he shouted.
There was no response; he had hardly expected one, but had tried nonetheless. He shook his head, thinking of the whisperers and how they still intruded in his thoughts even though they had vanished. His imagination was plaguing him, nothing more. Gerrod kept expecting to hear their voices, so it was not surprising that he should conjure one up now and then.
Satisfied that the voice was no more than his own musings, the warlock returned to the task at hand. Soon, the Quel would work themselves up enough to send one of their own in to retrieve him. He wanted progress before that time, either something to give to them to prove he was aiding their cause or enough knowledge that he could utilize this massive artifact to find and flee to Sharissa.
He returned to the controlling crystals and, with great respect, touched them. His thoughts on the young Zeree, Gerrod was not surprised when the clouds dwindled away and he found himself staring at the mouth of a cavern.
“Better,” Gerrod whispered, unconsciously mimicking the fanciful voice. The basic manipulations were surprisingly easy to understand once you knew about the controls, the hooded Vraad noted. Why should they make it too complicated? It would only make using it frustrating. And here I was a moment ago fearing I might never learn anything!
Gerrod was not overwhelmed by his success. Anyone with even a basic knowledge of the workings of crystal
