melted, evaporating to nothing by the time the residue reached the ground again. Even the cloud had dissipated.
Dekkar, meanwhile, did little but stand and wait. Once his initial surprise had passed, he stood smiling despite the bites he had suffered. It was soon easy to see why. The vermin began falling off, first a few, then in great numbers. Each one was dead, that is, each one that had bitten the sorcerer. Dru caught sight of one of the last, true to its mission, snapping at Dekkar’s unprotected hand. Once the creature drew blood, it instantly recoiled, as if ready to strike again. Instead, the monstrosity shook, spat the blood of its victim from its mouth… and fell to the earth, its grip and its life both things of the past.
“Masterrrr?”
“Poisoned, Sirvak. Dekkar’s blood is poisoned. I wonder how he survives it? It would have to be a strong poison to kill one of those creatures, I suspect.”
Like two bedraggled but triumphant bookends, Dekkar and Silesti faced one another, each ready for the second round.
“Masterrr!” Sirvak’s talons bit deep into Dru Zeree’s shoulder, a signal that the familiar was more than just apprehensive. A dark shadow blotted out all but the artificial illumination the Vraad themselves had created for the coming.
The sky was filled with dragons. Huge monsters, larger than the tallest horses and quite able to fell said animals with one blow of their massive forepaws. There was a rider on the back of each emerald horror, a sure enough sign, not that one had been needed, of who the newcomers were.
“Tezerenee…” Dru muttered to himself.
Below him, the crowd, whose interest in the duel had grown with each passing second, suddenly became silent save for a few hardy souls who dared to whisper what Zeree himself had just said.
Tezerenee.
There were more than forty and Dru knew that these were only a token representation of the clan. Vraad, by nature of their egos, were not a familial race. Dru and his daughter, Sharissa, were a rarity. Under the draconian rule of their patriarch, the Lord Barakas, the Tezerenee were a cohesive and masterful family of sorcerers. They were also skilled fighters, another aberration in a race that relied so heavily on their magical prowess.
Dragons began to land on the roofs and walls of the city.
From a distance, each rider seemed identical. Dark green armor covered them from head to toe, forged from the scales of the very beasts the Tezerenee rode. Ferocious dragon-crested helms all but obscured the savage faces of the Tezerenee. Two of them wore crimson capes, Lord Barakas and his eldest son, Reegan. Nearly a third of the riders were sons of the patriarch, spread across the five thousand years of his life. (How many more there were and how many had died one way or another during those millennia was something no one spoke about within earshot of the Lord Tezerenee.)
Barakas Tezerenee had landed on the roof of a building that had flattened itself out at the moment of arrival. From his vantage point, the overwhelming figure overlooked all but Dru. Barakas stroked his heavy beard and stared long and hard at the two duelists.
“This is the final coming.” His voice, augmented by his power, sent a tremor literally through the city. Oddly, despite his bearlike appearance, the Lord Tezerenee’s voice was smooth and calculated. It was also the voice of one so used to commanding that even a simple “good day” would have seemed an order to be obeyed.
“This is the final coming, Masters Dekkar and Silesti. From here, the Vraad will be moving on to a better, less disreputable home.” The warring sky rumbled, as if punctuating his statements.
The two feuding sorcerers glanced at each other with disquieting looks.
“See that these two finish their absurd duel once and for all.” It was not evident at first to whom the patriarch was speaking, for he still studied Dekkar and Silesti. Then, two riders remounted their reptilian steeds and rose into the sky. The two rivals began to protest, but a sharp glance from Barakas froze them where they stood.
Dru blinked, leaned over the rail of the balcony, and studied Dekkar and Silesti closer. Frozen, indeed. Neither sorcerer was moving, save to look around futilely for someone who would free them from the Lord Tezerenee’s spell. The dragons descended to points just above the heads of each hapless Vraad, raising dust storms that sent the throngs backing away, and, at a command from their riders, grasped Dekkar and Silesti in their forepaws.
The riders looked to their clan master for further orders. Barakas Tezerenee considered, then said, “Take them west. Do not come back until there is a victor… or until both of them are dead.”
With a renewed flapping of their huge wings, the dragons rose swiftly into the air. In seconds, they were mere dots in the sky to even the most skilled of observers. In less than a minute, they were out of sight.
Barakas scanned the remaining Vraad-who were still uncharacteristically silent-and finally said in the same tone of voice he had used to dispose of Silesti and Dekkar, “May the spirit of the coming be with you.”
Without another word, he turned, visibly dismissing the throng from his interest, and eyed the waiting Dru.
Dru inclined his head briefly toward the patriarch. “I came as you directed.”
In the next instant, the Lord Tezerenee was standing beside him. Sirvak, who had a distinct dislike for anything of draconian nature, let out a low hiss. Dru quieted him while Barakas looked on, a cold smile playing across his lips.
“It is only fitting that you should be here, Zeree. This is your doing as well as mine.”
The intended compliment did nothing for Dru, though he pretended to be honored. “The credit goes to you, Barakas. To you and your sons, Rendel and Gerrod.”
For the first time since he had arrived, the patriarch looked uncomfortable. Dru noted with particular interest his discomfort at the mention of those two sons. “Yes. Yes, they’ve done their parts. You laid the groundwork, though.”
Below, the other Vraad had returned to their other interests, Dekkar, Silesti, and even the watchful Tezerenee forgotten for the most part. Barakas laughed harshly.
“Weak fools! Children! If not for us they’d still be bemoaning their fate!” He took Dru by the arm. “Come! The tests draw near, Zeree. I want you to be there when the time comes.”
The world around them seemed to curl within itself.
When it had unfurled again, their surroundings had changed. They were now in a vast chamber in which nearly a dozen Tezerenee sat on the outline of a pentagram, one at each point and corner of the design. A single hooded figure sat quietly in the center, different from the rest by nature of the long cloak, scaled tunic, and high boots he wore. Wisps of ice-white hair dangled free of the encompassing hood, identifying him readily enough for Dru.
“Father.” Another Tezerenee, clad identically to the one in the center, knelt before the clan patriarch. Barakas deigned to put a hand on his son’s hooded head.
“Gerrod. Explain what occurs here.” Beneath the calm tones, there was an undercurrent of suspicion and the first traces of righteous fury.
Gerrod looked up. In contrast to most of the male members of the Tezerenee, he was handsome. Dark hair hung down slightly on an aristocratic visage that took greatly from his mother’s side. He was slim compared to such as Barakas or Reegan and hardly the warrior type. He and the still figure at the heart of the pentagram might have been twins, so much did they resemble each other. Yet, there were more than a thousand years separating their births. Twins they were, but in the soul, not the body.
“Rendel couldn’t wait, Father,” Gerrod informed Barakas, speaking with much more calmness than Dru thought he himself would have been able to muster.
“Couldn’t wait?” Suddenly it struck Dru what Gerrod was implying.
The younger Tezerenee inclined his head toward his father, shivering slightly as the patriarch’s grip on his head tightened. Barakas could crush his son’s skull like a piece of soft fruit if he so desired.
The Lord Tezerenee glanced imperiously at his companion. “Rendel, it seems, Zeree, has jumped the chasm. His ka is now over there-in the Dragonrealm.”
II
