Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III

them through their minds. He glanced at Darkhorse, who dipped his head in understanding. They would wait for the dragons to listen, but no longer.

Faras was still listening inwardly when Ssgayn finally returned his attention to the warlock. “Fortune sssmiles upon us all, Massster Bedlam.” The massive dragon almost sounded relieved. “You have been granted entrance.”

Without pause, the two guardians began to shift aside. Faras, too, had broken contact with whoever had spoken to the two of them. He dipped his head in what might have been construed a draconian bow.

“This is a trick,” rumbled Darkhorse softly. “They shall let us pass and then try to catch us from all sides.”

Eyeing the dragons, Cabe scratched his chin. “I don’t know. They look as if they’re telling the truth,” he whispered back.

“How would you have them look if they wanted you to believe their story?”

“Good point, but there’s only one way to really find out whether they’re lying or not, isn’t there?”

“And if they are, we shall easily take them, won’t we?” The eternal chuckled, which made the dragons, who had been unable to hear the conversation, tense.

The warlock and the shadow steed started forward, but then Faras, who more directly faced Darkhorse, hissed and shook his head. “Noooo . . . only you, Massster Bedlam! Only you. Ssso the emperor hasss spoken.”

“Through Duke Toma, no doubt,” muttered Cabe.

“I will not accept this!” roared his companion. “We go together!”

The two dragons shifted nearer one another, effectively cutting off any glimpse of the entrance to the Dragon Emperor’s sanctum. “That isss not permitted,” added Faras.

Darkhorse looked ready to charge both scaled titans, but Cabe quickly put out a hand to halt him. “No, Darkhorse. If we fight, then we certainly endanger Valea. I’ll go in alone.”

“You cannot walk blindly into such an obvious trap!”

“But I won’t be blind, will I?”

Ssgayn moved a stride closer, a great distance when one considered that he was a dragon. Darkhorse thought it too great, for he suddenly darted ahead of Cabe, becoming, in effect, a shield between the warlock and the leviathan.

The drake did not retreat, but he did pull his head back. “I only convey my liege’sss promissse that this will be a proper, peaceful audience.” Ssgayn’s reptilian eyes met the sorcerer’s own. “Thisss my emperor ssswears!”

Whether or not he truly believed the guardian, the warlock had no true choice. Valea needed him. “Very well. I’ll enter alone.”

“Cabe! I-”

“You’ll be near enough, Darkhorse,” Cabe interjected, glancing at his companion. “If this is a ploy, do whatever you have to do.”

Neither dragon looked comfortable with that notion, but they did not appear ready to back away. I hope it doesn’t come to that, Cabe thought. Darkhorse isn’t as strong as he generally is and . . . and I’ve known Ssgayn and Faras so long.

The ebony stallion settled down, albeit with reluctance. He glared at the two huge drakes. “Very well . . . but I shall be waiting for your summons, Cabe. Do not hesitate in the least, and rest assured that I will come to you . . . no matter what or who I must go through.”

From the expressions on the draconian visages of Faras and Ssgayn, Cabe knew that Darkhorse would have to fight both of them if he did try to pass. The warlock shook his head as he started toward the guardians. If this was the path to peace, then perhaps the old days were better.

The two behemoths again moved aside, making a clear path for the warlock. Faras kept one eye on Cabe while Ssgayn studied the shadow steed carefully. The warlock paid no further attention to the guardians; his gaze was on the great bronze gate before him. It had been repaired recently, possibly by the Dragon Kings in preparation for the ascension. Toma would not have had the time or patience, not even if he had been willing to use sorcery. He could also not have replaced it during his long exile, for the other drake lords would have investigated immediately. That the gate had been repaired interested Cabe. It meant that at least someone had been fairly certain of Kyl’s success, and since only the Dragon Kings ever came here, it had to have been one of them.

That was something he could think about later . . . always providing there was a later.

He was just about to reach forward and knock on the gate when it swung open to receive him.

There was no one within. Cabe stepped into the gloom of the cavern and looked around.

A figure suddenly stepped out of the darkness, a figure who the warlock knew quite well.

“Ursa!”

Her sorrowful smile told him that she was not under the sort of spell that Toma had cast upon Gwendolyn. Cabe was glad to see that, but at the same time, he felt worse because Ursa was clearly a slave. She was clad in fine emerald-and-gold raiment worthy of her status as drake dam of the royal line, yet being here was clearly not by her choice.

“If you will follow me, Master Bedlam, they are waiting for you.”

She started to turn away, but he caught her arm. “Ursa, can you tell me if-”

“We have to go to them, Massster Bedlam,” the beautiful drake insisted, turning anxious. “I cannot sssay anything.”

“Toma?”

The look in her eyes was answer enough. Cabe quickly released his hold on her. With Ursa in the lead, they began the trek through the dark cavern entrance. Creatures fluttered about above them. The warlock heard something fairly large scuttle away.

“May we at least have some light?”

The words were no more off his tongue when a dim, golden sphere materialized before them. From Ursa’s gasp, he gathered that she was not responsible. Toma was keeping a very keen eye on his old foe.

It was the longest short walk in which Cabe had ever partaken. He knew that the distance to the main cavern was but three or four minutes, yet time seemed to slow during the journey. It felt more like an hour. That might have been due to his own anxiety concerning Valea or, knowing Toma, it might have been a spell.

Certainly, his first glimpse of the main cavern when he and Ursa finally emerged seemed to be the product of a spell.

When last Cabe had left here, the throne room of the Dragon Emperor had been a fallen ruin. The huge stone effigies that lined the path to the throne had been in total disarray, with many of them tipped over and shattered. Vast portions of the ceiling had collapsed. While the massive stone throne itself had more or less survived, the steps of the dais it stood upon had been cracked and broken. All around, the Gold Dragon’s treasures had been crushed.

Here, too, someone had tried and succeeded in repairing much of the damage. Now there were barely any signs that the destruction created in the process of bringing down the mad emperor had ever taken place. Only a few telltale cracks and some missing fragments gave any indication that the warlock’s last visit had not been a delusion.

On the throne once occupied by his sire sat Kyl.

To his left stood Valea.

At the sight of his daughter, the mage started forward. Ursa shook her head and tried to grab hold of his sleeve, but Cabe moved too swiftly for her. He stalked toward the path and the effigies, his only concern being to get Valea safely away.

“That . . . will be far enough, warlock.”

From behind the statues nearest to the dais stepped Toma. The renegade duke wore the form of the knight, but instead of his more normal green coloring, the drake was a resplendent gold and green. Cabe had seen him like this only once before, when Toma had invaded Talak and had captured both Gwendolyn and him.