Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III

The drake verified his supposition with a grimace. “Massster Trassske had an amazing talent for the unexpected tessst. Yesss, I sssee your point.”

It was doubtful that Kyl actually did, but the warlock was happy to let it go at that. Kyl would think whatever he wanted to think. Once the search was ended, it likely would not matter very much. Whether any trace of Toma’s passing was found or not, Cabe’s family was now warned. Toma would not find entry into the Manor so simple the next time he tried.

What did he want, though? That’s what I would like to know! The obvious motive concerned the very drake before him. Cabe realized that he would have to speak to the Green Dragon as soon as the Manor was considered safe again. The Dragon King would want to know what had happened. He might also be the best one to handle the delicate matter of questioning Kyl. For all he disliked the heir’s manner, especially toward Valea, the warlock was concerned about the drake’s well-being. Toma could offer the emperor-to-be nothing; therefore, the renegade sought to take from Kyl.

It was tempting to warn the young drake even after he had commanded Valea not to do so, but Cabe persevered. Best to wait for the Dragon King. The lord of Dagora would better know what to do about his nephew.

“I shall leave you to thisss, then,” the dragon heir was saying. “I apologize if I interfered in sssome way. I happened by, sssaw Valea, and sssince I had not yet greeted her since our arrival, I thought it polite to do ssso now. Again, Massster Bedlam, my apologiesss.”

“It’s nothing, Kyl.”

“That isss very kind of you to sssay. I shall trouble you no longer, then, Massster Bedlam.” With that, the drake bowed and quickly departed.

Cabe watched him walk off, more certain than ever that he had just interrupted something important between his daughter and Kyl. He hoped that whatever it was had not gotten out of hand. Only a few more weeks and he’ll be far enough away that she can start to forget him. It would be wise, he thought, to take Valea and Aurim to some of the more peaceful human kingdoms, such as Penacles or Gordag-Ai. Let them meet more people their own age. There were a few at the Manor, but unfortunately, here Aurim and Valea were considered the young lord and lady of the house. That was why the drakes had become their closest friends over the years; the others considered the two their masters as much as Cabe and his wife were.

Yes, it would be wise to do some visiting after Kyl assumed his throne. Penacles especially seemed a good choice.

That was still weeks away, however, and in the meantime, Cabe would have to continue to watch his daughter. It might have been easier on him if she had at least chosen Grath; the younger drake had always seemed kinder, more sensible. Less deadly. He was thankful that Aurim, at least, had not gotten involved in any romantic entanglements. At this point, the master warlock was not so certain that he could have handled yet one more situation.

Which reminded him that there was still a search to complete. Toma was, by far, the most immediate danger to everything. They had to make absolutely certain that neither he nor some legacy remained within the boundaries of the Manor. Cabe knew, however, that even if they found nothing, he would still be unable to relax. The mere presence of the renegade had shattered his sense of security. Not even his home was safe.

Something will have to be done to put an end to your legacy of terror, Toma, the sorcerer thought as he prepared to resume the hunt. And if it would cost me my life to see that accomplished, I’d gladly give it if only it meant that you were never able to threaten my family again.

He meant every word, he truly did, but Cabe hoped that it would not come to that.

Unfortunately, with Toma involved, there was a very good chance that it would.

Darkhorse moved swiftly through the forest, darting in and out among the trees with an ease no earthly steed would have been able to imitate. The shadow steed squeezed between trunks or overran fallen trees that would have daunted any true horse. Darkhorse barely noticed. He, like the Bedlams, was on a hunt, but in the eternal’s case, there was a trail. It was slight, so very slight, but it was the first true clue that he had discovered.

Darkhorse had picked up the trace at the site of one of the spell traps. He had not thought to search for this particular type of trail, having been more consumed with the obvious scent. His adversary had been a clever one, using the traces of Shade’s sorcerous mark to cover the true one. Now, however, the shadow steed knew what to look for . . . in part because he suspected who was responsible.

Oddly, though, the trail was now sending him in a direction he had not anticipated, toward a destination that had to be false. The ebony stallion rode on, though, determined to let nothing, including personal trusts, cloud his judgment.

I should have come across him by now! he thought. There is no possible way that I could have passed him by!

Nonetheless, the next several minutes revealed no sign of his mysterious quarry. The eternal finally paused and surveyed his surroundings. There was little that should have been able to evade his senses, but more and more Darkhorse wondered whether he had somehow missed what he had been searching for. The trail was fading before him. Had he been duped again?

It seemed so. Several more minutes of searching proved the futility of his hunt. The trap maker had covered his path all too well.

“So be it!” rumbled the eternal. “I will waste no more time on this!” Still, he could not help pondering his failure as he turned and renewed his run through the forest. Darkhorse did not like mysteries, or at least mysteries that he could not solve. Perhaps it was time to visit Penacles. The Gryphon was there, and although he no longer ruled the so-called City of Knowledge, still he had access to many sources of information there, including the fabled libraries underneath the very city itself. Perhaps the lionbird can pluck some useful knowledge from the libraries’ contrary contents!

Whoever had created the libraries of Penacles had to have been a madman. All the great knowledge of sorcery was said to be found there, written down in one great tome or another. The difficulty lay not only in locating the proper volume, but making sense of the insane script within. The knowledge of the libraries usually came in the form of some peculiar riddle or nonsensical passage. Why that was, no one now knew. Still, if there was anyone who could solve those conundrums, it was the Gryphon.

Feeling much more pleased with his situation than he had felt but moments before, Darkhorse increased his pace. He made no sound as he ran and his hooves left no mark on the uneven ground. When it was his whim, he could do both, but for the most part Darkhorse preferred to move as a ghost. It would have been simpler to transport himself to Penacles, but the shadow steed loved to run. It seemed to clear his thinking. Besides, a few minutes more or less would not matter. Darkhorse was so swift that he could cross miles in seconds if he chose. He did not run so fast now, but even still it would take him little time to reach Penacles.

His path took him across the trail that the caravan had taken in order to reach Talak. Darkhorse vaguely recognized it, although he had not joined the party until farther north. At first, the eternal ignored it, set as he was on his destination, but then the presence of many inhuman minds made the powerful stallion come up short.

He wasted no time looking around. If they chose to, his new companions could keep themselves well hidden among the treetops. Instead, the shadow steed kicked at the ground, raising a cloud of dirt and loose vegetation, and roared, “Play no games with me, birds, or I will knock your roosts down one by one until this part of the forest is nothing more than a field!”

There was the rustling of leaves in the treetops-rustling that the light breeze around him could not have caused.

A man-sized creature burst through the foliage and alighted onto one of the larger, lower branches. He was shaped more or less like a human, but in every other way resembled a bird of prey. The newcomer snapped his beak once at the eternal, then cocked his head to the side so as better to see the huge stallion.

“What do you want, Seeker?” Darkhorse shifted so that he looked directly up at the avian. “A challenge? A threat?”

The Seeker pointed a taloned hand toward the southwest and squawked.