Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III

throne of the Dragon Emperor.”

Cabe found that he believed him. It hardly seemed possible, but he could find nothing in the heir’s manner to make him suspect a ploy of some sort. Kyl wanted to release Valea to him.

Unfortunately, the emperor-to-be’s brother did not feel so. Still holding Valea by the arms, he turned with wild eyes to Toma. “He can’t do that! It would ruin everything!”

Toma was seething, his breathing an audible hiss. Yet, he restrained himself where Grath could not. In a very quiet, overly calm voice, he told the young drake, “He isss our emperor, Grath. He may do asss he pleases. Release the female from the ssspell and let her go to her father.”

Grath was aghast. He had clearly not expected such words from the duke. It was only with effort that Kyl’s brother slowly released his grip on Valea. He did not step away, however, instead continuing to stand uncomfortably close while he began to unravel the spell he had cast on her.

For the first time since Cabe had followed the drakes to the cavern, his daughter was able to act of her own accord. He expected her to come running to him, but instead, she suddenly whirled on Grath, who resembled, of all things, a forlorn lover, and slapped the drake hard on the cheek.

“That is the least you deserve!” she snapped. Ignoring him from there on, Valea turned to Kyl. Unlike her tone when speaking to Grath, the young witch’s manner was now cool yet polite. “Thank you for doing this, Your Majesty.”

Kyl’s expression shifted, indicating that he would have preferred a slap.

Moving a bit unsteadily, Valea made her way to the steps of the dais. She carefully avoided descending anywhere near Duke Toma. The drake clasped both hands behind his back in a manner reminiscent of Kyl’s earlier stance, but in the renegade’s case, it was evidently more to assure that she need not fear him trying to grab her.

As she neared the bottom, Valea’s expression finally turned to joy. Cabe could not keep the happiness from his own face.

“Father!” Valea cried as she began to hurry across the remaining distance. At the edge of his vision, the warlock caught Kyl staring directly at him. His attention was pulled somewhat away from his returning daughter. Had he not known better, he would have sworn that the drake was trying to tell him something, but it could not be what Cabe thought it was.

Valea stretched out her arms to hug him. Forgetting Kyl for the moment, Cabe opened his own arms to receive her.

“No! You cannot!”

The horrified voice was Grath’s, but he was not protesting his brother’s decision again, rather something that Toma was doing.

Cabe cursed silently for forgetting the duke even for as long as the blink of an eye. As his gaze snapped back to the renegade, something flashed in his direction.

His first thought was Toos!, despite the differences between what had happened in Penacles and what was happening now. Cabe only knew that a knife-no, the knife-was hurtling toward his daughter. Everything around him slowed as the warlock threw Valea to the ground. He knew that his shield would not hold against the ensorcelled blade. Toma would not, of course, have forgotten the original use of the object that had controlled his shaping spell. A knife was made to be used. Trust Toma to ever remember that.

Cabe tried to transport them away, but for some reason, his spell failed. He had no time to consider the reason. Cabe Bedlam now fully expected the blade to strike him and knew that, at long last, Duke Toma would have his death. The drake would not have thrown the knife if he had not been certain of the results. Cabe threw himself onto Valea and closed his eyes, wondering just what form his death would take. From a blade magicked by Toma, it would not be a painless one.

Valea gasped as she struck the floor. Cabe’s shoulder scraped against stone, but the pain was muted by the realization that he had suffered no other injury. No knife had sunk into his side.

Rolling onto his back, he discovered the sinister blade frozen in the air above him. From where it floated, the warlock estimated it would have struck him squarely in the back. The thought was an unsettling one even despite the knowledge that he had in some way escaped.

The reason for his survival stood gasping at the top of the dais. Grath, face covered in sweat, had one hand stretched toward the blade. From the look on his face, he was struggling with something. It slowly dawned on the warlock that Kyl’s brother was still battling the magical knife.

Kyl, furious, had taken a step toward Toma. “Ssso thisss isss an example of your loyalty! Ssso thisss isss a sssign of your complete obedience!”

Toma said nothing, but abruptly glanced at the dark blade.

The knife spun around and flew toward the top of the dais.

Kyl gasped and raised a hand to protect himself, but too late he realized that he was not the intended target.

Grath stared round-eyed as the blade sank deep into his chest, too stunned by the swiftness of what had happened to scream.

“Interfering little fool!” growled the renegade.

Bright orange flame enveloped the younger drake. Grath was outlined but a moment as he started to fall . . . then the knife pulled away and flew back to the claws of Toma, leaving the unfortunate drake a sprawled form on the dais.

“You . . . murdered . . . Grath!” Kyl, his eyes darting from the corpse of his brother to the knife nestled in the renegade’s hand, clenched his fists and took yet another wary step toward Toma. “I gave you sssanctuary! I protected you and thisss-”

Duke Toma gently wiped the blood from his blade. He eyed the heir and hissed. “No more gamesss, Your Majesty. Do you think that I do not know what you were planning? Have you forgotten how well I know all of you? I know how you think; I know how you plot. I saw your eyes when you ssspoke to the human. I read the truth in there.” Toma toyed with the knife. “I know just how secure my place with you would have been once she was safe in the care of the warlock.”

Cabe and Valea had risen, with the mage shielding his less-experienced daughter. Ursa joined them. Watching the duke, the warlock whispered, “Valea, get ready to transport the two of you away when I say to. We don’t dare do it until Toma’s fully occupied. Otherwise, he could easily pull you back.”

She looked astounded. “I’m not leaving you, Father!”

“We don’t have time to argue! He-”

“Hasss heard everything, Cabe Bedlam!” Duke Toma backed away from them all, the knife still at the ready. There was a strained look in his eyes and Cabe, who had already wondered about the renegade’s instability, knew that Toma had nearly reached the brink. He could no longer tolerate the slightest interference with his dreams. Grath’s death was proof of that, and now the duke had even turned on the one being who might have given him succor.

“Ssso much work for nothing . . .” muttered Toma. “So many yearsss wasted on raising an unfit hatchling for what should have been mine in the first place. I had my doubtsss time and time again, but the promissse was still there.”

Kyl worked to keep his own temper in check again. “Toma, if you sssurrender now, I will give you a jussst judgment.”

“A ‘just judgment’? With my lissst of crimes? I think not.”

It was now or never. Cabe leaned toward his daughter and whispered. “Leave! Now!”

She hesitated for a moment, but knew he was correct to send Ursa and her away. It was fast coming to the point where Toma would talk no more, and that left little other choice but battle. Valea was aware that she especially would be more hindrance against the drake than help. At least she could go for aid.

The only trouble was . . . she did not disappear. Neither did Ursa.

Toma ignored Kyl for the moment and smiled at the two humans from within his false helm. “Did you think I had not consssidered thisss eventuality? I am Toma! I led my father’s forces. I planned his campaigns! How sssimple, then, to consider the possibility