Cabe informed him first of the Gryphon’s journey across the Eastern Seas to the land of his birth. The Gryphon had discovered his people, the denizens of some place called the Dream Lands, under siege by the black- armored wolf raiders, the Aramites. D’Shay, a particular wolf raider who had dealt with various Dragon Kings over a period of time, had evidently survived an encounter in Penacles that once supposedly had climaxed with his death. The missives, delivered to the Dragonrealm by drake ships of the neutral city of Irillian, did not go into detail on the subject of D’Shay. For the past few years, though, the lionbird had been aiding the revolt of many of the Aramites’ conquered enemies. The wolf raiders’ empire was crumbling, but it was a slow, bloody conflict. The ebony-armored soldiers had not conquered most of their continent by luck.
“Toos runs Penacles in his absence,” Cabe concluded. “The general refuses to be named ruler, despite the pressure on him. He and I both wanted to go and aid the Gryphon, but that would have left no one to keep an eye on certain troublemakers.”
“A wise decision, Cabe! Now, what of you? The Lady of the Amber is your mate, yes?”
It was informative to the shadow steed the way the mention of his wife made the otherwise confident warlock turn red. Darkhorse recognized the deep love the mortal had for his enchantress.
“She’s my… mate. Yes. We have-we have two children.”
“But this is wonderful news!” Darkhorse roared, unmindful at the moment of how his voice carried. After so many dismal events, the progression of life, something that both fascinated and puzzled him, cheered the stallion, especially as it dealt with one of the few mortals who fully trusted him. “You must introduce them to me-if that is acceptable to the Lady of the Amber!”
Cabe smiled in wry humor. “She doesn’t like to be called that. It’s either ‘Lady Gwen’ or ‘the Lady Bedlam.’ She’s very much into the control of this place and our children… but then, so am I.”
Darkhorse quieted as the four exited from the forest and entered the clearing where the unique structure called simply the “Manor” stood. Seeing the place reminded him again of that time when he had come to Cabe’s rescue. The Manor was a perfect complement of nature and planned design. It was difficult to tell where the building ended and the natural contours of the great tree that made up at least half of the structure began. Some walls had been completely shaped by the tree; others had been built. It was at least three stories high, with windows everywhere. The grounds had been carefully shaped to match the land. There were other buildings as well; and, though they had not been designed with the efficiency and beauty of the ancient citadel, someone had taken great care to ensure that they did not detract from the splendor of the forest.
People looked up from their tasks-people and drakes, Darkhorse amended, trying to cope with the idea of such cooperation-and stared at the horse beside their lord. It was the stare of the mildly curious, not the panicked, which evidently meant that his disguise had succeeded. Both hatchlings suddenly ran off in the direction of the Manor itself, perhaps to give warning. The shadow steed wondered what sort of reception he could expect from the Manor’s mistress. A cool one at best. Better that than open warfare.
There had to be several families of both races living here side-by-side, but everyone seemed to be taking it with stride. A man and a drake dealing with the horses broke off from their discussion to first acknowledge the warlock, then to admire the magnificent black animal trotting beside him. Darkhorse watched them in turn, amazed at such cooperation, such friendship. Even the humans of Irillian or Zuu, cities in which humans and drakes had lived together for centuries, were more polite and respectful to one another than they were friendly.
“She was in the garden when I went out to search for Kyl,” Cabe whispered, nodding in turn to those who paid him homage as he passed. The embarrassed look on his face was a humorous sight to Darkhorse. “Hopefully, we should find her there.”
With a brief nod of his head, Darkhorse signalled his understanding. Certain questions were beginning to eat at his patience, however, and he hoped that he and the two human spellcasters would be able to converse before long. As enjoyable as this reunion had been, Shade was a problem that could not be cut off.
They did find Gwen in the garden. Kyl and Grath stood patiently off to the side. With the witch were two strikingly beautiful women. Though no judge of human tastes, Darkhorse knew that they were capable of tempting many a man. He also knew that these women were not human. They were female drakes, far more adept at shapeshifting into such forms but less talented at sorcery.
Despite their beauty, however, the two drakes paled in comparison to the woman kneeling before them, who was bent on adjusting the clothing of a small human male perhaps two years younger than the hatchlings. Long, thick tresses crimson in color fell well below her shoulders and a silver streak, smaller and narrower than the one in Cabe’s hair, added to the intensity of the fiery image. A form-fitting gown the color of emeralds revealed curves that were, by the standards of most human males Darkhorse had known through the ages, quite arresting. The Lady Bedlam rose and glanced their way, her perfect face with its glittering eyes-eyes that matched the gown absolutely-tiny nose, and full red lips marred only by the anxiety in her expression. Anxiety and distrust.
As they neared her, Darkhorse could not help feeling both relieved and disappointed that he was unique, that there was no female counterpart to him. Had there been, she surely would have resembled Cabe’s mate in thought and action.
Even the multiverse is not ready for that! he thought with much humor and some passing regret.
“S’sseresa,” Gwen called. The nearer of the two drake dams stepped closer. Her eyes still on the black steed, the witch said, “Take Aurim and the others to their rooms and please check on Valea. She should be waking from her nap soon.”
“As you wish, Lady Bedlam.” The two female drakes seemed to have no difficulty dealing with taking orders from a human, and Darkhorse slowly realized that they had probably had several years to get used to it. One dam took the two hatchlings; the other reached down and, whispering a few words to the golden-haired boy, took him by the hand. They followed after the others at a slower pace.
“Now, then.” Gwen’s expression was cold. “Kyl told me that you have somehow come back, but I was hoping he’d been imagining things. I see he wasn’t.”
“You were a bit warmer when last we parted company, Lady Bedlam-may I extend my congratulations? — and I see no reason for your continued distrust of me. I hardly came back by choice, much as I enjoy this world. I was forced back here by one of your kind.”
The ice melted. Barely.
“Things have been fairly peaceful here the last few years. I have children now, Darkhorse. Children who should grow up in peace.”
Darkhorse laughed, ignoring the fury on his hostess’s visage. “I am so sorry that I have to awaken you from your dream, witch! If you have eyes at all, you should know that, despite their unwillingness to band together, the Dragon Kings are far from harmless! Even now, the clans of Silver prepare to strike-and with Shade loose-”
“Wait! What’s that you said?” Cabe stepped between the two, his original intention being to keep one or both from striking out. Now, however, he was interested only in Darkhorse’s words. “Is that what you came to tell us?”
Backing away for the sake of his friend, the shadow steed nodded. Even the Lady Gwen was now listening in rapt attention. The anger had vanished, replaced by concern-concern for her husband and children.
“Now I have your attention! Good! It should have been obvious to you, Lady of the Amber, that if I’ve returned, then so has Shade! Our faceless comrade is worse than I can ever recall seeing him! Something in the spell that tore us from our exile has caused a reversion! Shade has been as a man gone truly mad, with personalities vying each time I’ve met him! I fear he is returning to his original mind-set-and I fear it may be the worst of all!”
Gwen sat down, her hands rubbing together tightly. “I owe you an apology, then. If what you say is true-”
“There is worse! I have sorely underestimated the age of my onetime comrade! If I am correct, a Vraad sorcerer walks among us again!”
The name meant nothing to Cabe, though he carried within him some of the memories of his grandfather, who had studied the ancient races thoroughly. Gwen, on the other hand, turned pale and spat out an epithet concerning the shadowy warlock that made her husband look at her in mild shock.
“What’s a Vraad sorcerer? Is he different from us?”
Lady Bedlam nodded slowly. Her jaw set tight as she looked at Darkhorse. “We’ve heard nothing out of the ordinary from the northern lands. The only reports that reach us concern the fact that Melicard is supposed to marry some princess from the west. I pity the woman.”
