temptress could, when she so desired, make him look like nothing more than a great pup. Alcia did not care for her people, especially her offspring, to be made fools of even if they themselves had had a part in the process.
“Have you been outside in the last hour?” Alcia asked her husband.
“No. There have been complications-minor ones-with the various aspects of the cross-over. I’ve been busy sorting them out.”
The Lady Tezerenee tensed. “Rendel! Is something wrong? Has he-?”
“Rendel is fine,” the patriarch lied. No one dared to contradict him, although Gerrod was sorely tempted. “He proceeds with his tasks. There’s nothing to worry about. You had something you wished to convey to me, however.”
“Yes. The city is being buffeted by powerful winds. The protective spells seem to be weakening.”
“It’s to be expected. Nimth is weakening. That’s why smooth progression of our work is so important. Gerrod!”
The hooded Tezerenee leaped to his feet and straightened as his father whirled on him. “I await your command.”
Barakas looked him over, as if seeking fault. Alcia, on the other hand, beamed proudly. Reegan and the rest might be her husband’s, but Rendel and Gerrod were her favorites. Unlike most of the clan, she had been born an outsider, and in those two sons, the matriarch saw her identity passed on.
“You seem to get along with Master Zeree fairly well,” the Lord Tezerenee commented. “I give you the task of visiting his domain and bringing him back here. It looks bad when one’s partner seems… reluctant to be present at the culmination of his work.”
“We don’t need him, Father!” growled Reegan.
Gerrod smiled from within the shadowy confines of his hood. When Reegan spoke, it was generally to put his foot in his mouth.
“We don’t need him!” the heir continued. “The outsider gave us everything of use! Let him take his place in the courtyard with the rest! Better yet, see that he gets left behind!”
Barakas stood silent for several moments. Then he walked over to his eldest and slapped him across his furred visage. It was not a gentle slap, Gerrod noted with some satisfaction. The heir struck the stone floor end first, causing a yard-long crack along the surface. Lady Alcia remained stone-faced throughout the incident.
“He was given the bond of the dragon-my bond of honor! Never speak that way again unless I permit you!” Barakas focused on his younger son. “Go, Gerrod! Leave now!” The patriarch’s voice was more of a dragon’s roar. The young Tezerenee hastened to obey, folding within himself and vanishing from the room instantly, secretly gleeful to have any excuse to be far away from the mad rabble he was forced to call his family.
Emptiness.
What could one do with so much emptiness?
That was the question that pervaded Dru’s thoughts as he continued to float helplessly in… in… this void, he finally decided. It was a shorter, more succinct name and, more importantly, had pushed back his boredom for at least a hundred or so breaths.
Breaths. There was no way of telling time here, if time was even a familiar concept in this nondimension. The number of breaths he took was the only way he could make any estimate. Even then, it was tricky, for Dru had discovered earlier that it was not necessary to breathe in the Void.
He was at a loss as to what to do. Several failed attempts had proven to him the uselessness of Vraad sorcery here. That had come as a shock. Even with all the chaos on Nimth, Dru had never conceived that there might be a time when he had no sorcery at his command. There had been times when he had abstained from the use of it, but he had always known the magic was ready should he need it.
In growing desperation, he had tried pushing himself along with his arms and legs, an awkward parody of swimming. There were problems with that, however, chief among them being that it was impossible to tell if he was making any progress. Everything looked the same and he could feel nothing on his face. He soon gave the attempt up. Where was there to go, even if he was moving? There was nothing to see from his position save for more nothing.
A part of him did marvel at this place, however. The realm beyond the veil had been amazing enough, but this was truly something the Vraad had never conceived of in all their years. What was the Void? he wondered. Just emptiness? If he had accidentally fallen into it, had others? If so, what had happened to them?
With nothing else to do, Dru chose to rest. He was only now feeling the exhaustion caused by his transition from Nimth to this place. Perhaps, the sorcerer hoped, when he was rested he would be able to conceive a feasible plan. Perhaps something in his surroundings would change by the time he woke.
No sooner had he closed his eyes than he opened them again with a start. Suddenly Dru felt refreshed, as if he had slept for hours. The Vraad frowned, puzzled at the change. What could have given him so much energy?
Then a tiny orb floated into his range of vision. It shocked him at first, being the one object other than himself that he had seen, but then he recognized it as one of his own possessions. As he retrieved it, he noted other objects from his pockets. They all floated in lazy fashion about his person. Two questions were answered then. He was moving, albeit at an incredibly slow rate, else his belongings would have been scattered farther apart. He had also slept, yet there had been no feeling of time passage. It dawned on Dru then that he might float here for the rest of… of whatever… with only sleep to entertain him.
It was a Vraadish version of hell.
One by one the sorcerer retrieved his errant possessions, studying each in turn in the hopes of finding something that would aid him in his escape from this horrible place. They were all useless trinkets now, even the ones that had once been his most powerful tools. Everything he had derived from Vraad sorcery… and he could not touch upon that here, it seemed.
In a fit of anger, he took a hand mirror, once used for scrying but now only sufficient for staring at his frustrated features, and threw it from him. To his horror, while the mirror went one way, he went the opposite. Not far at first, but far enough so that the remainder of his escaped items were now out of reach.
The horror was quickly exchanged with an almost childlike glee. He could travel. There might not be anything to find, but at least Dru now knew that he could explore. His exploring was limited, however. Waving his arms did little to keep him moving; throwing an object in the opposite direction-a nebulous term at best-was the only way to assure himself of momentum.
Reaching into one of his voluminous pockets, he pulled out the orb that had originally begun the present chain of events. It was no more than a piece of metal now, but one that should start him on his way. Using the other floating trinkets as his means of perspective, the sorcerer threw the orb. His momentum was not great, but he slowly returned to somewhere very near his earlier position. Utilizing the cloak he wore, Dru scooped up as many of the other pieces as he could. He might need them later.
The drifting spellcaster’s present course took him nowhere in particular, which was the only place to go in the Void. Nonetheless, he now had purpose. As he floated, an act he more or less had to assume, he kept watch for something, anything, that might also exist here.
His euphoria passed into boredom again without one change in his surroundings. Dru could not say whether he had been floating for a very long time, but he knew that more than a thousand breaths had passed before he lost count. Still his eyes were greeted with nothing, great and endless quantities of nothing. There was nothing as far as the eye could see. Dru wondered if he would know when he finally turned completely mad at the sight… if one could call emptiness a sight.
Then, an object in the distance caught his eyes. It was only a speck, but, in so much emptiness, it stood out like a glittering crystal beacon. Dru discarded another of his items and altered his direction. Perspective was a problem, he realized. The object might be very close and very small or it might be far, far away and larger than his castle of pearl.
More than two hundred breaths passed before he was close enough to make out what it was. Deep disappointment vied with the simple pleasure of actually touching something else.
It was a rock. A jagged, brown rock that looked as if it had been torn from some hillside.
Through sheer luck, he had aimed himself near enough so that the rock would pass within arm’s reach of him. As the two of them closed the gap, Dru stretched his left arm out, intending on taking hold of the object and using
