Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III

“What if I try, Mother?” asked the young warlock. They had always talked about his potential; why not let him prove himself here and now?

“I know what you’re thinking, Aurim, and it’s true you have the power, but this is a spell crafted by a black mage far more experienced than you. With time, you’ll likely be able to do this without anyone’s aid, but this is a predicament requiring long mastery of sorcery.”

“I understand.” He did, too. Duke Toma no doubt knew a thousand different ways to tangle his spell so that removing it would likely tear apart his victim’s mind. Aurim did not wish to be responsible for Ssarekai’s death.

It then occurred to him that the drake was not alone in his predicament.

“Mother, what about me?” His voice shook just a little. “I have the same spell on me.”

Her voice was calm, but her expression hinted at her great concern. “I know, Aurim. I thought about that the moment I realized I could not remove the spell on Ssarekai. However, you should bear one thing in mind. Your ability to focus and use your power far exceeds that of Ssarekai. The fact that you recall anything-and I suspect you’ve been struggling to do so for days-proves that your own mind is fighting back. It could very well be that this is the beginning of the spell’s unraveling. You could recall everything else that happened that night at any moment.”

“The headache has lessened.”

“As I thought it might have. We shall have to see what happens now. This is something that must be monitored carefully.”

“Will you still be going to Penacles?”

“I don’t know.” She eyed both Aurim and Ssarekai. “There are different options, and all of them should be weighed first. I should contact your father, however. Although what I can tell him that won’t simply add to his worries, I don’t know. If you could only recall more . . . with so much going on in Penacles, I hate to add this. Worse yet, the formal reception is this evening, and once again I’ve promised to be there.” Lady Bedlam uttered a mild curse, which still managed to startle a few of those who had gathered around them. “Cabe has the right of it: this land does seem to like nothing better than to complicate and endanger our lives!”

Aurim could only nod grimly. She would get no argument from him on that matter. As far as he was concerned, the Dragonrealm had chosen them to be players in some game. The moment one crisis seemed past, yet a new one would come to life. His father found it all very frustrating and had mentioned quite often that he hoped the peace would mean an end to that game.

Head still throbbing, Aurim’s only question was what the land would do with its pieces when the game was over.

“So the devil has been busy, has he?”

The Gryphon’s words rang in Cabe’s ears. After much deliberation, Gwen had contacted him and described what had happened to their son and Ssarekai. The warlock was, of course, concerned for the drake, but he could not help being more fearful for his son’s life. Toma particularly hated anyone of the name Bedlam; unraveling the spell blocking Aurim’s memories might kill him . . . and none too pleasantly, either.

His wife had wanted to bring both victims to Penacles, but then both of them realized that doing so would leave the Manor with no one to keep an eye on it. With Toma’s whereabouts unknown, that might be as good as inviting him to wreak more havoc. Neither Cabe nor Gwen planned on leaving Valea in charge; she was not yet old enough or skilled enough to take on a drake as experienced as the renegade. The warlock was wondering whether even he was prepared for the drake duke.

“I wish Darkhorse was here,” he muttered to the figure standing before him. The two of them had retired to the Gryphon’s chambers as soon as the sorcerer became aware of Gwendolyn’s mind touching his own.

The news had not been good. That Toma had dared to do what he had done to Aurim and Ssarekai disgusted Cabe. He was only thankful that the renegade had not done worse.

“I’ve got to go home, Gryphon! I’ve got to do what I can to help free my son of that spell. There’s no telling what might happen otherwise!”

The lionbird nodded. “I understand completely, Cabe. You know that.”

His statement made the anxious sorcerer feel a little guilty. The Gryphon had lost a son already; Aurim was still alive and healthy.

“We’ll have to explain to Toos and the others. I’ll also need to get word to Troia.”

“You’re coming, too?”

The human/avian eyes stared coldly at him. “Did you think I would abandon you on this? Whatever aid I can offer is yours. You should know that by now.”

He had been hoping for his old friend’s help, but it was good to be reassured. “I can’t thank you enough.”

They both rose. The Gryphon patted the warlock on the shoulder. “We’ve always been there for each other and for each other’s family. There’s no need for thanks. I owe you as much as you think you owe me.”

Cabe differed on that, thinking of how the former monarch had shielded a young, confused man running from the hunting armies of the Dragon Emperor. From that moment on, he had considered himself forever in the lionbird’s debt.

Their news was received with both dismay and shock. Benjin Traske insisted on returning with them, his deep concern for the mage’s family touching Cabe’s heart, but the warlock refused, knowing that the scholar was needed in Penacles more than ever. Without Cabe there, it would be up to Traske to aid the Green Dragon in watching over Kyl. Benjin Traske finally gave in, but only with great reluctance.

Toos, of course, approved of their departure. He leaned close and added, “Your children, warlock, are my children too, as are the Gryphon’s. It would pain me dearly, son, if anything happened to any one of them.”

The drakes, too, were adamant that Cabe return to the Manor. Kyl, like Benjin Traske, also wished to return in the hopes that he might be able to do something for the young warlock. The Green Dragon and Grath reluctantly convinced him to do otherwise, for which Cabe was grateful. He was surprised at the heir’s shock at what had happened to Aurim; his son and the drake were evidently dearer friends than he had imagined. The sorcerer had been convinced that Kyl generally associated with Aurim in order to be near Valea, but the concern he read in the drake’s visage told him otherwise. It made him just a little uncomfortable to realize that he might have misjudged Kyl, at least in part.

“Things will be fine here, Cabe,” Toos concluded. The regent waved a dismissing hand at them. “Go! See to your son and Ssarekai. Good horseman for a drake, that one. He doesn’t deserve Toma’s games any more than Aurim does.”

“We shall do what we can for both of them,” replied the Gryphon. “As soon as we are able, one of us will return with news.” He turned to Kyl. “Your Majesty . . .”

“Formality isss not necesssary now, Lord Gryphon. All I desssire isss that you do for my friend what you and Massster Bedlam can!”

The others nodded their agreement. Cabe laid a hand on the lionbird’s arm. “Ready?”

“Of course.”

They were all waiting in the largest of the Manor’s underground chambers. The first time Cabe had been down here, many years before, he had expected to find dungeons. To his relief, most of the rooms evidently had been used for storage. There were traces of old magic, but the spells had either been fairly simple or had been cast so long ago that no danger remained. As for the largest chamber, the table and chairs he had discovered in it indicated that its last use had been as a council room or something akin.

Aurim and Ssarekai sat in chairs in the middle of the room. The table had been moved away, no doubt at Gwendolyn’s request. The party looked up as Cabe and the Gryphon materialized.

“Was there any difficulty?” the enchantress asked her husband.

“None save that everyone wanted to give what aid they could.”

“I’ll be sure to thank them when I can.” Her gaze shifted to the figure beside Cabe. “For now, I want to thank you, Gryphon, for coming.”