She had hoped to stir uneasiness, but the entity was gloating, not fearful. The land sleeps for as long as I will it and those others like me have left this plane. They will not know what occurs until after it is done and I have proved myself!
The warlock, meanwhile, had stirred himself to life once more. He took a step toward the barely seen outline in the dark and shouted, “Damn you! I’m asking again! What have you done to them?”
The laughter again. We will see how well they truly follow the totem of the drake. Gerrod turned around, seeking the entrance to this cavern. “I’ve got to go to them! Warn them!”
“You hate them!” Faunon quickly reminded him. Nonetheless, the elf, too, looked as if he wanted to find any path leading away.
The hooded Tezerenee did not deign to reply, but Sharissa understood. Gerrod cared for his clan, for individuals within it. His hatred was for those who ruled it-his father, Reegan, Lochivan-and he was not even willing to consign those three to whatever fate the guardian had in mind.
There is no way out of here, came the triumphant voice in their heads. And you would only suffer the same fate as they.
“It’s true,” Faunon whispered to Sharissa. “I cannot find a passage anywhere!” A living fury came among them. Gerrod, looking all too much like the drake that his people looked to as their symbol, confronted the elemental. There was a stirring of power like none that the sorceress had felt in fifteen years. In fact, it reminded her of only one thing, but the intensity of it was beyond what should have been available to the warlock.
Vraad sorcery. Oh, Gerrod! She shook her head in disbelief and reached out with her senses to verify the horror before her. You’ve broken the barrier between worlds! You’ve let the foulness that we created seep into our midst!
She understood some of why he had performed the unthinkable, but that did not forgive him-even if this proved to be enough to aid them in escaping.
A quake rocked the cavern as the warlock unleashed a tangle of glowing, scarlet tendrils at where the guardian supposedly was.
“The curse of the Vraad!” Faunon snarled, emotions in turmoil. He had told her that his legends spoke of the way of the Vraad race, yet she knew that while he loathed what Gerrod represented, he, like her, hoped it would at least do some good.
Gerrod’s spell did not stop. He continued to feed the lifeforce of Nimth into it, twisting that world a little further and doing untold damage to the Dragonrealm at the same time. Even with all of that, there was still no reaction from the target of his wrath save that the dim image had vanished. It was still there, however. All three of them could feel its overwhelming presence.
By now, the tendrils filled the space before the threesome, illuminating the chamber as it had never been illuminated since their arrival. Sharissa silently verified that there was, indeed, no passage out. This cavern was a bubble in the mountain rock.
Gerrod screamed as his body finally gave in to the rigors of his sorcery. He collapsed to the floor.
The tendrils pulsated with such intensity that the sorceress and the elf had to cover their eyes.
Silence lingered for more than a minute, by Sharissa’s reckoning.
Slowly and so quietly that they at first thought that they had imagined it, the laughter of the mad guardian rose and reverberated around them.
The tendrils winked out of existence.
Gerrod looked up, his face drawn and far older than his father’s. The toll of unleashing so much destructive sorcery had drained more than his strength; it had drained a part of his life from him, too.
A fitting position to be in, it said, and they all knew it referred to Gerrod’s sprawled form. He had only risen to his knees by the time it added, Fitting for one who faces his new deity!
Faunon was shaking his head in dismay, but Sharissa was not satisfied with the outcome. Was it her imagination, or did the presence of the outcast seem just a little bit less oppressing than it had been before the attack?
It did not reprimand her for the traitorous thought, another interesting note.
Still, the guardian was enjoying its latest victory. The two fiery eyes returned, focusing on the trio as a whole. I think perhaps I would like you two to join your poor companion! Sharissa felt an unstoppable urge to kneel. Despite the uselessness of doing so, she fought it all the way to the ground. I think it is time to give your god the dues deserved!
Her head was just being forced downward-mortals were not supposed to look up in the presence of gods, of course-when another voice entered her head and commented, Rest assured, outcast, you will receive all that is due to you.
The cavern exploded into turmoil. The two humans and the elf fell flat in the hopes of avoiding what seemed like the world itself at war. Even the tremors caused by Gerrod’s spell had not rocked the cavern like this. Sharissa glanced up and saw that the ceiling was cracking in places. She hoped that none of the pieces that chose to fall would be above them. With no passage out, they were trapped. Trying to teleport out during such madness would have a greater chance of making them part of the mountain than sending them to safety. That their best odds lay in lying still and hoping for the best was not something the younger Zeree cared to contemplate.
A bolt of purple lightning flashed across the cavern. Something roared in the dark. The floor cracked next to Faunon, who quickly rolled over to Sharissa when it became apparent the fault would continue right underneath his original position. Large chunks of rock and earth broke free of the ceiling and plummeted downward, one landing within a few yards of the frozen sorceress. She muttered ancient Serkadion Manee’s name and tried not to think about where the next fall would land.
As quickly and violently as it had begun, the tempest died. The three were plunged into darkness, not even their auras remaining to give them some sense of light.
“Sharissa?” Faunon’s voice was like a beacon. “Are you hurt?”
She coughed, clearing some of the floating dust from her lungs, and, in the same quiet tones, replied, “I think so. I won’t trust that until I can see myself. Gerrod?”
There was no answer. His last image burned into her thoughts, Sharissa stirred herself to movement.
“Where are you going?” the elf asked.
“I need to find out what happened to Gerrod.”
Would light aid you in this?
She froze at the return of a voice to her mind. “I don’t need your mockery now. If he’s dead, it’s your doing! What happened?”
The voice was almost indifferent, a great contrast to earlier conversations. I think you mistake me for the other. Is that so?
“What do you mean?”
I am not the outcast, the one who would be a god. I have been called such by others of your kind, but I have never yearned for that which was not my calling.
“You’re another guardian?” She wished there was light, even though she still would have seen nothing. Unless they willed it, the guardians were always invisible.
The chamber lit up so bright that Sharissa was blinded. An angry curse from behind her told the Vraad that Faunon, too, had not been prepared.
Gerrod was not affected by the light; he lay on his stomach, his cloak and hood obscuring most of his body. She quickly moved to his side.
I am.
“What?” Her question came back to her. “Oh. I see. Are you… you must be…” She could not think, being busy in checking the Tezerenee’s condition. Sharissa gasped when she pulled back the hood. Gerrod was an old man, wrinkled and dying. “No!”
It is his own doing. He should have never sought what we had barred from this world.
“I don’t care about that! Can you help him?”
I could. Guardians, it seemed, shared many of the same faults.
She looked up at the ceiling, ignoring the loose rocks as she shouted, “Please!”
For the daughter of Dru Zeree.
Gerrod groaned. His eyes opened. Sharissa, looking down, saw that he was as she had always known him.
