materialized in the palm. A faint light emanated from it.
“I will lead,” the servitor declared.
With Ssssurak ahead and the warrior behind, the four entered a darkened passage at the deep end of the cave. No sooner had the servitor stepped inside, then the light from the pyramid immediately increased, filling the area with blue-tinted illumination.
A slight sound from Yssa made Gwen glance the other’s way. The half-drake had a determined look in her eye and her expression tensed even as the enchantress watched.
With a flickering frown, Gwen tried to warn her not to try anything. The power of the Dragon King prevailed here. Gwen could feel her abilities being muted by his spellwork. Did Yssa think that she could fare any better?
Evidently she did, for in the next second the Green Dragon’s daughter threw herself back into the unsuspecting guard. Physically, he should have been no more affected than if a gnat had collided with him, but an orange aura flared to life as Yssa struck the giant and both of them went flying.
The drake hit one of the walls, bounced off of it, then rammed into the other. The collisions were hardly chance; Gwen sensed Yssa’s hand in each harsh crash.
Behind the enchantress, Ssssurak hissed. He closed his hand tight, which would have plunged the passage into darkness save for Yssa’s aura. Gwen turned on the servitor, but somehow despite his close proximity, he had become invisible to her.
Yssa seized Gwen by the hand. “Hurry!”
Gwen did not argue. Despite her own handicap, Yssa’s skills seemed entirely untouched. The enchantress belatedly thought of the younger woman’s origins. Perhaps both Gwen and the Dragon King had underestimated what a cross between human and drake might be capable. Still, it seemed odd that the Storm Lord would not take that consideration in mind.
They ran back along the corridor, racing down the dark passage toward freedom. However, it took Gwen only a few seconds to realize that they should be far, far closer to the exit than they were. Ssssurak had barely led them into it before Yssa had acted.
“Wait!” she called. “Yssa! We’re being led!”
Her companion stumbled to a halt, but by then it was already too late. A blinding light assailed them from both directions. Gwen and Yssa threw themselves against one another for protection.
And as the light died, the voice that Gwen had dreaded to hear echoed loud.
“Welcome, welcome, my chosen . . .”
The corridor vanished. Gwen and Yssa now stood in the center of a looming cavern with walls of black onyx. Within the onyx, the primal fury of the storm played itself out over and over. The result was a violent, constantly shifting light that forced both to shield their eyes in order to focus on the massive figure seated above them.
Gwen had confronted several of the Dragon Kings over her life, had even seen the old Emperor at his height, but the Storm Lord dwarfed them all. Standing, he would have been eight, nine feet high, not even including the wide, menacing crest that surely added another three feet.
He smiled, revealing his sharp, reptilian teeth, and indicated with one broad finger that they should come closer.
The two women suddenly discovered themselves within only a few yards of the high stone dais upon which the gray marble throne had been set. With only that single gesture, the drake lord had transported them from one end of the chamber to the other.
“Yes, we have chosen well . . .” He leaned back, red, forked tongue flickering. “All that remains now is to see which one of you will succeed in slaying the other . . .”
VI
As a child, Aurim had enjoyed being frightened. He had constantly encouraged his father, the Lord Gryphon, and even Darkhorse, to tell him stories that would fill him with delightful fear. He always knew that there were happy endings to the stories, but that made the images of nasty Dragon Kings, cunning Seekers, and brutish Quel no less spine-tingling.
But nothing had stirred him so much as tales involving the enigmatic warlock, Shade.
Yet, Shade was supposed to be dead. His father said so, Lord Gryphon said so, and even Darkhorse had finally, after years, reluctantly agreed. Still, the hooded sorcerer with the murky face whose curse constantly sent him swinging from good to evil and back again had become for Aurim a symbol of the unknown, the unexpected.
Now the unknown stared him in the face . . . so to speak.
Shade slowly and calmly led him through the rain-drenched landscape, moving as if Yssa would be just over the hill and not, as the golden-haired wizard suspected, miles away. The hooded figure appeared to be looking for something, but just what that something was he had so far not said to either Aurim or his other self.
This Shade was far different from the one in the stories. He did not appear either good or evil, but trapped somewhere in the middle for the time being. Aurim did not like traveling with him, but if he could find Yssa, that was all that mattered.
“We were dead,” rambled Shade not for the first time. “So dead. Peacefully dead.” He shifted his head to the left. “And we were quite furious when we no longer were.”
Aurim noted the rising bitterness in the tone, the first emotion he had heard from his dire companion. He wisely kept silent, knowing that Shade would continue on.
The hood turned right. “I remember . . . I remember her name was Sharissa . . .”
To the left. “No . . . her name was Galani . . .”
To the center. “And she thought she could help me . . .”
He grew silent for a time, now and then inspecting various bits of the land around them. Aurim pondered the names, but they meant nothing to him. His sister and father had a better knowledge of the history of the Dragonrealm; perhaps they would have made more sense of the ramblings.
Shade paused without warning, nearly causing Aurim, who hunkered low in his cloak since he dared not cast a spell, to collide with him. The hooded sorcerer leaned down. “Aaah . . . Here it is . . .”
He pulled up what at first Aurim thought a peculiar white stone. Only when the gloved hand thrust it closer did he realize that it was more.
A bone fragment.
“I knew it had to be near . . .”
A shift to the right. “Of course it would be near! We’re the reason it’s here in the first place!”
Shade leaned over again, digging into the wet soil with gloves that got neither moist nor muddy. Within seconds, he had removed another, larger object from the earth.
A skull.
Overcoming his initial dismay, Aurim studied the skull. The jaw bone was missing, but enough remained identifiable. What he had at first taken for a small dragon was, in fact, something quite the opposite. Instead of the broad, toothed muzzle of a reptilian creature, this had a squat, almost noseless appearance that reminded the young wizard in some ways of a rodent whose muzzle had been crushed.
Shade set the mud-covered cranium on the ground, then drew with his finger a circle around it. A faint, sickly green aura arose from the circle, swiftly enveloping the skull.
“They will be warned, but it doesn’t matter,” the warlock commented.
Aurim paid scant attention to the cryptic statement, his gaze fixed on the astonishing display before him. As the aura covered the skull, the latter began to rise from the ground. However, no longer did it lack a lower jaw. Instead, a new one composed entirely of the green glow filled the empty space. As the skull continued to rise, other magical bones rapidly replaced those missing, building the entire macabre structure a piece at a time.
The creature, whatever it was, had surely been grotesque in life if this unearthly skeleton was any indication. It towered over the pair and would have stood even taller if not for the fact that it seemed designed to lean forward at almost a right angle. The legs bent as if the creature had to constantly run or else fall. Odd bones
