Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III

The beast wavered, again unleashing its mournful howl.

“How horrible!” whispered Valea. Cabe glanced at her, thinking that she meant the misshapen drake, but his daughter’s eyes were fixed on Kyl. It occurred to him then that Valea had never considered the heir’s other form. Not truthfully. She had no doubt realized that as one of the drake race Kyl had another form, but imagining it and seeing it were two entirely different things. Kyl was a handsome dragon, but he was still a dragon and not the exotic young man the witch had grown up knowing. It mattered not that she had seen Ursa change, either. Ursa was not Kyl.

“You will obey me,” roared the heir to Toma’s pet. “Obey me and I will protect you.”

That was all the monster evidently needed to hear, for it started to trot toward the dais much the way a small, lost animal that has finally found its mother might have.

No one betrayed Duke Toma. Grath had learned that, much to his misfortune. The renegade evidently intended Kyl to learn that, too, for the warlock barely had time to act as he saw Toma pull the deadly blade from his belt and stretch his arm back in order to throw it at the heir, who was preoccupied with guiding the monster to him.

As quick as Cabe was, Ursa was even quicker. She leapt toward the turned Toma, already shifting her form. Yet, if the female drake had hoped to catch the renegade off guard, she had not counted on Toma’s propensity for survival. Somehow, the drake always had some response ready, even if circumstances warranted it to be a swift one.

Toma barely succeeded in maintaining a hold on his blade. There was, much to Cabe’s relief, no time for the duke to turn the knife directly on the attacking drake, but he was still able to bring down the hard handle on the side of her head. As she had not yet completely altered her form, her head lacked the scaly armor and thick skull of a dragon. More importantly, the spark that flew off when blade met skull was clear proof that the dark knife was ensorcelled on many levels.

Ursa struck the floor already unconscious. All vestiges of her change dwindled away, leaving her in the human form she had always so much preferred.

“Ssstupid, ussseless female!” sneered Toma.

Unable to act before without possibly harming the brave drake, Cabe attacked the moment Ursa was out of his line of sight. The spell was not an intricate one; the warlock’s only intention was to permanently part Toma from his blade. The weapon was the key to much of the renegade’s work, including, Cabe suspected, the spell that surrounded the cavern.

Near the dais, Toma’s monster had turned back at the sounds of struggle. Now the creature wanted to join its former master, but repeated commands by Kyl were so far keeping it in check. It continued to howl, frustrated by the two conflicting loyalties.

Cabe did not strike at the blade itself, suspecting that among the powers that Toma had imbued it with was some sort of shield. Grath had been able to hold it a short time, but that was because he had simply been trying to halt its flight, not affect the weapon itself. Instead of the blade, the warlock chose to strike at the renegade. Granted, Toma was probably also protected, but what Cabe planned was not exactly a direct attack.

Without warning, the duke’s hand opened wide. The drake’s expression was indication enough that he had not wanted to open his hand, especially as that meant he no longer had a grip on the knife. Toma tried to seize the falling weapon with his other hand, but it was too late.

The blade struck the cavern floor point first and bounced a foot or two away. Cabe noted no change in the conditions around them, despite Duke Toma having no direct control of his toy. Of course, he had not had any such control when Grath had attempted his spell. The blade’s tied to him. It has to be destroyed to be stopped.

That was something easier said than done, especially with the renegade now turning his attention to his old adversary. The drake stretched forth one hand toward the knife while the other he balled into a fist and pointed in Cabe’s direction.

As the knife rose from the floor, the warlock felt his shield buckle under an unseen but incredible force all around him. Cabe strengthened the shield, but doing so drew his concentration from seizing the blade. He watched with frustration as it neared Toma’s open hand.

Then another hand thrust upward from the floor and snared the knife by the handle. Ursa, not so unconscious as Duke Toma had supposed, reversed the blade so that it pointed toward its master. At the same time, she tried to plunge the weapon into the belly of Toma.

There was no doubt that it would have sunk deep, armor or no, but the renegade drake was swifter than Ursa had evidently hoped. Although taken unaware by her sudden revival, Toma recovered quickly. This close, he did not have time to protect himself with a spell, not against such a powerful device as his own magical blade, but he could still move. Toma’s hand came down on the female drake’s own, forcing the blade lower and to the side. Ursa gasped in obvious pain as the duke squeezed.

The knife missed his stomach, but Ursa was evidently stronger than he had supposed. Stronger and swifter.

A hissing cry burst from the renegade as his own dagger plunged almost halfway into his thigh. Armorlike skin failed to slow the sorcerous weapon.

Pulling away, the knife still in his thigh, Duke Toma cursed. The knife and the wound glowed a peculiar green. Fueled by his pain, he struck Ursa as she tried to rise and finish what she had begun. It was quite clear from the angle at which the female drake fell that this time there would be no trick.

From the dais, the dragon Kyl turned to the monster and roared, “Kill him!”

The creature remained where it was, looking confused and almost panic-stricken. It could no more destroy Toma than it could the one it believed was the previous emperor. Distraught, the beast looked up to the ceiling and renewed its howling.

The ceiling shook. A rain of tiny and not-so-tiny fragments buffeted everyone. Even Toma paused in his pain to cover himself as one particularly large chunk of rock fell within a few feet of him.

Cabe tried for what seemed the thousandth time to focus on Toma, but again something prevented him from unleashing a new spell. The something this time proved to be Kyl, who, realizing that there would be no victory through his new pet, charged toward the wounded renegade.

Toma looked up to see several tons of dragon converging on him. He did not seem panicked, however, but rather furious. Foregoing the removal of the enchanted blade, which still glowed, the duke faced his awesome foe and clenched his fists. Kyl was already almost upon him, frustrating the warlock’s attempt. Only a powerful spell could take down Toma, but such a powerful spell would likely include the heir as well. So much power and I stand around like a dithering fool!

There was, however, one thing he could do. That was pull Ursa away from the vicinity of Toma and Kyl. With a glance, he raised the still form of the female drake and brought it swiftly toward himself. At the same time, he whispered, “Valea! Take hold of Ursa the moment she’s near enough. Bring her to the gateway. You have to find some way to open it and summon Darkhorse.”

“But Father, that will leave you alone!”

“Do as I say! Quickly!” Although the tasks he had given her were of great importance, there was a part of the warlock that admittedly desired Valea to be out of harm’s way. Even if she failed to open the gates or contact the eternal, the simple fact that Valea was no longer in here would allow Cabe to fully concentrate on Toma. It was his daughter more than anything else that made it almost impossible for Cabe to completely commit himself to battle.

Even as she took hold of the floating form of her friend with her own sorcery, Cabe’s attention returned to the battle before him. Kyl had reached Toma . . . almost. The majestic golden drake stood above the tinier figure of the renegade, one massive paw attempting to squash Toma. Unfortunately, some unseen barrier prevented Kyl from closing the last two or three feet above the duke’s helmed head. The emperor-to-be roared and attempted to smash through the shield, but the result of his attack was a shriek of pain as the barrier proved even stronger than his full draconian might.

Kyl raised his paw to try again . . . and was enveloped in a ball of lightning.

Above the combined din created by both the crackle of the lightning and the roar of agony unleashed by the dragon, the voice of Duke Toma hissed, “Impudent little fool! You challenge