Tezerenee to become?
Reptilian eyes glanced the trio’s way, but Barakas, oddly enough, did not choose to strike. The dragon, turning its attention back to the patriarch, almost appeared disappointed in his lack of effort.
Barakas, never taking his eyes from the dragon, called back, “Get out of here! I command you! Go on without me!”
“We would like to, Father,” Gerrod responded with a touch of sarcasm in his tone, “but the family insists we stay for dinner!”
Outside the great hall, they could hear the hissing of more than one drake.
“Gerrrrod?” The dragon leaned forward, completely ignoring the armed Tezerenee, yet Barakas still made no move. “Gerrrod.”
“Gods!” The warlock stumbled back as the jaws opened, and they stared into the beast’s huge maw.
The behemoth suddenly recoiled. Sharissa thought it looked ashamed and horrified by Gerrod’s reaction. The mighty head turned and reptilian eyes stared down at the patriarch. “Let it be donnne!”
Before their eyes, the dragon struck at Lord Barakas, but in so clumsy a manner that its lower jaw missed the top of the clan master’s helm by several inches. The attack also left the dragon’s throat completely open, but even then, Barakas hesitated before striking. When he finally attacked, it was as if his draconian adversary had purposely left itself open, for it delayed in withdrawing its head.
The patriarch’s sword, propelled by his tremendous strength, went up through the throat, the back of the jaws, and directly into the brain of the beast.
The silence of the tableau lent an eerie feel to it. Making no sound despite the horrible pain it felt, the dragon pulled back. Barakas remained where he had been since the threesome had entered, defying almost certain death if the thrashings of the dying creature proved very violent.
Yet, the dragon did not thrash. It twitched as it moved, and the blood, a trail that began on the chest and hands of the clan master and continued back to the dais, continued to pour from the wound like some hideous river. With so much pain evident, it was surprising to all of them that the dragon seemed almost at peace.
Heavy thuds against the doors reminded Sharissa and her companions of their own danger. They moved closer to the center of the great hall. Barakas still had no eyes for them; he only seemed interested in the death of the leviathan. As it began to settle into the final moments of life, the patriarch walked slowly toward the dragon’s head. The eyes, already glazing, watched him with what interest the dying beast could muster. It made no attempt to snap at him. Barakas knelt beside it and, removing his gauntlets, began caressing his adversary on the neck.
“Lord Barakas,” Sharissa dared call out. “We need to leave this place! The others will be through those doors before long!”
He looked up at them. There was no life in his voice as he said, “I killed her.”
“You cannot kill them all, though, Father!” the warlock argued, evidently thinking that the patriarch was intending to take on each and every beast as it came.
Sharissa understood what Gerrod did not and tried to keep him from saying anything more. “Lord Barakas! Is there another way out of here that might lead us to a safer place?”
“I killed her because she asked me,” he replied, rising and staring at his son.
“It was a struggle for her to keep her own mind, but she was always the strongest besides myself. I almost thought she might have fought back the foul magic as I had done.”
Gerrod’s eyes jerked from his father to the dead beast. “Dragon’s blood, Father! that… that cannot be-”
“Yes, Gerrod. That is my Alcia.”
“That thing is-was mother?” The younger Tezerenee, Sharissa realized, had never taken the transformations and followed them to their logical conclusions. If one Tezerenee was affected, they all were, even the lord and lady who ruled. Barakas had survived through his incredible will. The Tezerenee still back at the caverns had probably survived in part because of his very presence. Of course, there was also the possibility that the renegade guardian had acted more cautiously in the caverns, considering that the region was a former stronghold of its creators.
A downpour of heavy thuds left cracks in the walls and ceiling of the chamber. Sharissa stood directly in front of Barakas and forced him to look at her. “Barakas! Is there a place we can go from here where the dragons won’t be able to reach us?”
Behind the helm, his face screwed up in thought. He almost looked pained by the effort. She pitied him for what he had been forced to do, but there was no helping Lady Alcia anymore. Now was the time to worry about those still living.
He finally shook his head. “No. Nothing. The other entrances lead out into the main corridors.”
“Which we know to be filled with our friends,” Faunon remarked. He had the bow ready. The first drake through would have little room to navigate, making it a perfect target for one of his skill.
“We’re trapped, then,” she said. “Unless we teleport from here.”
“Very risky!”
She indicated the buckling doors. “Compared to that?”
“A communal effort will be needed. I doubt I have the power to either tele-port us or open a gate long enough for us to go through. Do you think you could do it?”
“No.” That had been one of her first considerations. A communal effort was the only choice she had discovered. Sharissa had hoped the elf might suggest another. “We’d best get to it, then! Gerrod! Are you up to it?”
The warlock slowly nodded. “Yes. Anything to be away from this damnation! What about my erstwhile father?”
The clan master had retreated into his other world again. His dreams had been shattered, and one of the strongest driving forces behind that dream, the Lady Alcia, was dead at his own hands. If anything could have broken the powerful Vraad’s will, this could… and had.
“Hold on to him. We’ll take him along. I can’t leave him in here like this.”
Hinges creaked as the dragons pounded away. Sharissa felt weak probes searching for them. The drakes were going through a change that entailed more than physical transformation. They were being adapted, as the guardians had said, and part of that adaptation was an affinity for the sorcery of this world. Sharissa hoped that the remnants of her party would be gone before the dragons became too skilled.
They stood in a small circle, holding each other’s hands. Sharissa acted as the focus, drawing strength from her companions, even the somnambulant lord of the Tezerenee. Faunon suggested drawing an image from his mind and sending them there, but she lacked the concentration to do so. That left only a blind teleport, risky but their only hope.
“Wait!” Gerrod released her hand and dug into his clothing. He removed a crystal identical to the ones he had given to his companions earlier. “Take this and concentrate on the elf’s thoughts!”
“What will happen?”
“I gave you the other ones because the Quel use them for reading and translating thoughts! They work from a distance, and I thought it would be a good way for me to find you if we got separated. I should have told you, but that’s not important now! If you concentrate on your elf, what he thinks will be transmitted to you!”
She took the crystal and did as he described, finding with joy that Faunon’s thought image was so clear that it was almost as if they were already there. She focused on the location.
The dragons’ probes grew stronger. Inhuman emotions began to seep through, biting at her concentration.
The chamber faded.
The chamber reappeared.
“No!” They fell in a heap, shaken by the reversal. Sharissa felt a mind that she knew to be draconian laugh at them. Do not leave ussss, Sharisssssa Zereeee! Do not take our lordssss from ussss!
From the way Gerrod jerked, she knew he had heard the dragon, also. It was the same one that he had identified as one of his brothers.
The doors burst open, swinging back so hard they crashed into the walls and sent bits of rock flying.
The dragons swarmed toward them, the silver one in the front.
