comparison with this one. This was the face of a Vraad sorcerer.
The true face of Shade.
Food. Eat. Eat. The others in the herd kept urging him. They had been doing so all day.
Provider. Walks-on-hind-hooves-and-smells-of-herd. Brings more food. Eat. The herd tried to watch out for one another, but the dark one kept refusing to be part of the herd, though he had said he was.
Not hungry. The dark one allowed the strange creature with the odd, loose skin to guide him. Drink? Walks- on-hind-hooves-and-smells-of-herd leads to water. Smells puzzled. Not thirsty, provider. Provider smells of fear. Why fear of self? Self not harm provider.
Self… not right.
Before him, the provider called to another of his own herd, a smaller walks-on-hind-hooves who often came to this herd and smoothed and washed their coats. The dark one could not recall ever having this done to him, but the others, who seemed very stupid to the dark one, had told him this. It was one of the happy times they had. The dark one did not care for their happy times. Their happy times were for stupid ones.
“Andru! When did they bring in this one?”
The boy-boy? — shook his head, his mane flying back and forth as he did. The dark one realized the boy could not speak.
The man-yes, man! — looked at the dark one. “He’s magnificent, but he spooks me for sure! More like a demon than a horse!”
Horse? Demon? The dark one’s mind stirred. He did not question for a moment that he understood the man so well, even though the rest of the herd seemed to only hear the tone of his voice. He was different. Far different. Memories began to stir, memories of confinement, of evil men and shadowed figures. Memories of a need to escape.
“Here! What’s wrong with you?” The man-for the first time, the dark one saw that the man was tall, well- muscled, and graying-sought to bring his skittish charge under control. The dark one-there was another name! — easily fought him off.
“Andru! Boy! Get the others! We’ve gotta rogue on our hands!”
The young one ran off. The older man tried to get a grip on the bit that someone had dared put on the dark one, but failed.
Not dark one. Dark… horse. Darkhorse!
The shadow steed’s memories returned in a torrent of mixed images and scraps of thought. Darkhorse froze as he tried to assimilate everything, and the handler chose that moment to grab the bit.
“I don’t know which mule-headed lord or lady left you in the royal stables, but you’re goin’ to have to learn who’s master ’round here!” He tugged hard on the bit, trying to force Darkhorse’s head down. The horses around the ebony stallion shied away, already familiar with the strength and tactics of a man who had not yet met an animal he could not break.
Of course, the jet-black steed before him was far more than an animal.
Darkhorse, at last himself again, finally took notice of his would-be master. Soul-snaring blue orbs met the narrow eyes of the human-causing the latter to scream and release his hold. Stumbling backward, the man made a sign against evil.
Darkhorse laughed. Laughed, not only because of the futile gesture, but because he was free!
“Hela and Styx!” The horseman fell to his knees. “Spare me, demon! I couldn’t have known!”
“Not known me? Not known Darkhorse? I am no demon, horseman, though neither am I one of your charges! Tell me quickly now and I will leave you be! What place is this and what day?”
The answers both amused and angered the phantom steed. This was Gordag-Ai, the Princess Erini’s homeland! He could see what she had done. In haste, perhaps because she was still with the sorcerer, she had wanted him to be safe and secure. Her mind, however sharp, had thought of him in terms of a true animal-and why not? Very few people truly understood what he was. Therefore, when she had attempted to free him, her crude spell had sent him to a place her memories recalled as safe-the kingdom where she had been born and raised. Since he was a horse, her rescue attempt had sent him to the royal stables, surely the most secure place for one of his kind! Unfortunately, the side effect of so haphazard a spell had nearly made him just such a creature; and as much as he admired their forms and their loyalty, he had no desire to become one.
What frustrated him were the results of that side effect. Almost a full day had passed while he slowly reverted to himself. The massive army of Talak must already be far beyond the city, heading toward the Hell Plains; and though he had no proof to back up his fears, Darkhorse suspected that something terrible, something that Shade would have a hand in, was going to happen. Not just in Talak, either.
He realized that the human was still kneeling before him and that several others were standing at the entrance to the royal stables looking quite dumbfounded. Darkhorse laughed bitterly and said, “You have nothing to fear from me, little ones! Darkhorse has always been the friend of humanity, though there are those for whom my love has been tried! Fear not, for my time here with you is over!”
Rearing, the shadow steed summoned a portal. It flickered uncertainly for a moment, but the stallion, impatient to move against his adversaries after so long, paid it no mind. After his confinement and the stifling power of Drayfitt’s magical cell, he expected his own abilities to be less than they should be. That was why it was time to include others in his battle with his friend/foe. It was time to seek the help of Cabe Bedlam.
The gate he opened flickered again-then vanished.
Cursing loudly-much to the panic of the few humans who had not run off already-Darkhorse tried to resummon the portal. It blinked into and out of existence almost too fast to be seen, enraging the frustrated eternal even more.
“I am Darkhorse!” he shouted at the disobedient hole. “A gate is less than nothing to me! Materialize!”
He was greeted by a complete lack of reaction. There was not even a flicker this time. His confinement had sapped his abilities far worse than he could have believed possible.
This was a spell with Vraad origins, the shadow steed finally concluded. A treacherous, destructive thing like its creator!
“Very well,” he rumbled. “If, for the nonce, the paths beyond are forbidden to me, than I shall travel through the world of humanity!” Darkhorse looked down at the humans. “Be vigilant, mortals! The clans of Silver are awake and, though I suspect they look toward Talak, it would be safe in assuming that Gordag-Ai is also among their desires!”
When it appeared that his message had sunk in, the huge stallion reared and charged east. At first, the men in the stables grew panicked again, for there was no eastern entrance, only a solid wall. Then, before the unbelieving eyes of people who had thought they had already seen all there was to see, Darkhorse melted into the obstruction, like a ghost.
Darkhorse had no time for patience with the failings of humanity. If the fiery presence of a huge, jet-black stallion charging over their heads was enough to set them running in a hundred different directions, then that was their misfortune. What the shadow steed fought to stop was far worse than a little fear left in his wake. Shade, a Vraad sorcerer, would not settle for a little fear. As a Vraad, he would expect to control everything. It was not because he was necessarily evil; if anything, the Vraad had been, in Darkhorse’s limited knowledge, amoral. They could not comprehend that something might be out of their reach unless another, stronger representative of their race had already claimed it. Even then, it was a matter of who had the upper hand.
The warlock would be working to divide and eliminate rivals, even potential rivals.
Darkhorse quickened his pace as Gordag-Ai fell behind him. Princess Erini’s homeland had been given a warning about the drake menace near them. What concerned the phantom steed now was the very person he had looked to for aid. Cabe Bedlam and his family were in danger. A Vraad sorcerer would not let a spellcaster of young Bedlam’s potential go unchecked; if he could not enlist their servitude, then he would destroy them the way one would destroy a pest.
Darkhorse pushed himself harder, only now realizing how accustomed he was to his magical abilities. Though he raced more swiftly than any common horse, the pace was infinitely slower than travelling the path beyond. Seconds, even minutes, had now become hours.
Hours he might not have.
