Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III

Yet, the voice of another had no difficulty piercing the fog.

“Welcome, Bedlam. I am pleased you prove yourself predictable. I am pleased that all of you have have acted so predictably.”

It was not the voice he had expected. Forcing his head up, Aurim looked past Yssa to where a fiery light now illuminated the other end of the chamber.

The dragon dwarfed even those that Aurim had seen outside. A huge crest of jagged scale coursed down from his forehead to the tip of his tail. He was of an iridescent gray and silver and his unblinking eyes glowed a bright red, like the setting sun. Teeth taller than the wizard filled a maw capable of devouring a score of Aurims with a single snap.

A dark blue aura crackled around the Storm Lord and even from where he stood the blond spellcaster could sense the powerful forces emanating out from the Dragon King. Every bit of the tempest that covered Wenslis originated from the awesome power of its master.

A pedestal as high as the wizard’s waist stood before the leviathan. Upon it, a black onyx crystal as large as Aurim’s throbbing head glowed. In it, he could just make out the two Shades in mortal combat.

Aurim glanced from the crystal back to the Dragon King. He stared defiantly into the drake’s eyes-and only then did he realize that they not only did not stare back, but they seemed empty, unfocused. The Storm Lord appeared utterly lost within himself, almost as if he were in a trance or even dreaming.

“He sleeps,” said the voice that had welcomed him. “I give him his dreams of godhood and he sleeps and savors it while I deal with my own destiny.”

Then Aurim noticed at last the smaller figure standing to the left of the gargantuan dragon, a figure whose mere presence answered much but created a host of new questions as well.

A third Shade . . .

VIII

As her son vanished, Gwen tried desperately to concentrate on the situation. Something was indeed terribly wrong. There was no reason that the Storm Lord would let this struggle go on in his own sanctum unless it served his purpose.

But what?

Something about the Dragon King himself still bothered her. Gwen had faced many of his kind, but now and then this drake lord spoke and acted different. Once in awhile, he sounded less a Dragon King and more-more human?

Gwen’s eyes widened and her troubled gaze returned to the twin figures and their powerful if so far fruitless battle. The enchantress studied them, thought about what they represented-and suddenly a question that held the potential to answer everything reared its monstrous head.

How many more Shades were there?

“Call me Mordryn . . . this time,” the third Shade said with a cursory bow.

Aurim watched the hooded form with narrowed eyes. He sensed a difference in this variation. This Shade was more confident, more complete. He had known for quite some time what course he followed and what name he chose for himself.

“How long?” the wizard asked, gaze flickering to the dragon. The Storm Dragon’s mouth curled up slightly at the end, as if he enjoyed his dream. “How long have you been here?”

“Since my . . . death,” the murky figure replied. A hint of bitterness suddenly tinged his words. “I thought I had finally passed beyond, finally had rest . . . but instead I had only come home.” He stretched forth his arms to take in the entire chamber. “This is where it all went awry . . . this is where I tried for the last time to make the spell right . . . and instead the foul land cursed me for my defiance.”

“But Darkhorse saw you die! Saw you dissipate-”

Shade lowered his arms. The hooded face somehow managed to radiate frustration. “And I regenerated here, weak, utterly confused . . . and discovered that my fate had only worsened.”

Contrary to what he had hoped, the curse had not been lifted. Instead, it had been altered in a manner most diabolical. Where once there had been one Shade who fought for his identity, who fought to become truly human, truly one being-there were now several, all scattered far from one another.

The warlock touched the onyx crystal almost reverently. “This is how the lord of Wenslis wields such power. It draws from the earth, sun, and moons. It feeds him constantly-but now it also feeds me.” He caressed the stone, then glanced back at the dreaming Dragon King. “I was sliced to so many shadows . . . all of whom were without purpose, without focus . . . but when I discovered his secret, I discovered it also the way to become whole again . . .” The warlock laughed, a harsh sound. “I took it from him so easily! The Storm Lord! So distracted by his visions of grandeur, of omnipotence, that he fell prey to a simple spell any apprentice could have cast! I caught him slumbering, dreaming of his perfection . . . and I simply made that dream go on and on and on . . .”

To fool the Dragon King’s subjects afterward had been no trouble whatsoever. Drake or human, they feared their master and knew his reclusive ways. “A mere illusion,” Shade added, briefly flickering to the form of his spellbound host. “A conjurer’s trick.”

“But why take us, then?” Aurim asked standing straight. “Why bring us into this?”

Despite the fact that what little he could see of Shade’s face was a blur, the wizard thought he noticed the hooded figure scowl. “Even in dreaming, the Storm Lord is strong. He is still the storm over this realm and as it, he sensed you . . . first you pair, then your mother, come to find you. For the first time, it almost woke him . . . but I acted fast enough, playing into his dream and deepening his trance further to make certain that it would not happen again. I let all his desires play out.” He nodded toward Yssa. “Even his absurd interest in finding a mate befitting his ‘godliness’.”

“And the other Shades? Why did one come to us, another to my mother? How does that work in your plans?”

“Pure coincidence. Nothing more. A fortuitous bit of luck, that is all.”

But Shade said it so quickly that Aurim suspected otherwise. His other selves had been drawn to the outsiders, but for what reason, clearly even the warlock did not know. That gave the wizard hope, for it showed that this Shade did not entirely command the situation. It might yet be possible to free them from his grasp.

The onyx crystal suddenly flared. Shade leaned over it, his body radiating anticipation. “Yes!”

Aurim could not help but also look into it . . . and what he saw filled him with apprehension. The duel finally had a victor. Even as they watched, one of the other Shades shrieked. He staggered forward and as he did, his legs, his arms-everything-crumbled as if made of loose sand. The hapless figure spilled across the ground, leaving nothing but a pile of dust to mark his passing.

The second Shade dropped down on one knee, clearly exhausted by his effort. Whether he was Nathan or Valac, Aurim could not say. The pair had moved about so much that it was impossible to even guess.

But who had triumphed did not long matter. Taking advantage of the winner’s exhaustion, the third Shade touched the top of the crystal-and suddenly his counterpart within twisted, turned. With a cry, he became as clay, folded together over and over until at last nothing, absolutely nothing, remained.

Aurim blanched. Yssa clung to him, her fingers digging painfully into the wizard’s arm.

Shade stretched his arms back. He shimmered, seemed to momentarily swell-then suddenly reverted back to what he had been.

“They are returned to me,” he uttered. “They are part of me again . . .”

Seizing the moment, Aurim took advantage of the distraction, casting a spell with which he intended to slay the warlock. Even if Shade’s curse resurrected him again, he would surely be much less of a threat than now.

“No, Aurim!” Yssa shook him hard, shattering his concentration. “Didn’t you notice before? You attack him and the attack comes back at you! Think!”

Aurim gasped for breath as the effort to disperse the energy he had summoned overwhelmed him. He remembered the horrific force that had struck him-the same spell he had been casting then. The wizard had