Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III

The young officer had not considered that. He recalled the minute but very real damage he had already caused the wall. Would that be sufficient to upset the balance of the magical array? If so, then he had handed his own head to the blue man.

“Forgive me, my lord. I had our interests at heart. I’m certain that there’s a hidden chamber behind the portion of the wall I was inspecting. The beasts know it; I’ve watched them. I tricked this one into betraying himself. There may be something, some threat to us, hidden there.”

“And so trusting of the Quel, who would seek to trick, you would destroy all this, yes?” interjected D’Rance. The two men locked gazes. The northerner was enjoying this.

“There will be . . . none of that.” The Pack Leader actually shuddered, as if the mere thought of any damage to this place physically pained him. He pointed in the direction of D’Marr. “The wall, Kanaan . . .”

“My lord.” Bowing, the blue man stalked across the chamber. As he neared his rival, he smirked. D’Marr’s grip on his scepter tightened. Given the least of excuses, he would have been willing to strike down the blue devil right there and then.

D’Rance ran both hands over the questionable section. His eyes were half-closed in concentration; he almost seemed in a trance. At last, he turned back to his master and said, “This wall feels like the others, my lord, yes, but I am only a simple soldier.” After a moment’s hesitation, he slyly added, “He does not seem to have damaged it yet, either.”

“There will be no breaking down of walls.” To Lord D’Farany, that was evidently the final word on the subject. He turned his attention to the Quel device. D’Marr exhaled quietly. He would find other ways to pursue the matter . . . and take the blue man to task while he was at it.

D’Rance was not finished with him, however. The northerner stepped past the Aramite and studied the floor. D’Marr grew still. After a brief inspection, the blue man looked up. “My lord, I fear that there may be damage to the chamber after all. There are several places where the crystal face has been chipped, perhaps by a blunt weapon, yes.”

Perhaps I should chip your face with this blunt weapon . . . He readied himself for punishment. There would surely be no escaping it this time.

Lord D’Farany leaned over the crystalline device. He was silent for nearly a minute. Then, “We shall see what will happen, Kanaan. I do not like to execute a man for no reason.”

Familiar with his master’s ways, D’Marr was not at all comforted by the comment.

“Now come, Kanaan. I can wait no longer.”

That there were not only more than a dozen soldiers present but also a Quel as well did not appear to disturb the Pack Leader in the slightest. He only had eyes for the crystalline magic of the chamber. His gauntlets put aside, he carefully inspected each and every major facet of the peculiar artifact.

The blue man, on the other hand, was not at all pleased with the crowd. As he joined the Aramite commander, he asked, “My lord, would it not be better if those unnecessary would depart, yes? They could cause distraction and perhaps also unknown harm. It would be best, yes, if they retreated back to the previous passage even.”

“Do what you will,” D’Farany responded rather distractedly, his response accompanied by a curt wave of his hand.

Kanaan D’Rance dismissed everyone, including even the guards that D’Marr had brought with him. The sentries urged the Quel to his feet, but as they were dragging him toward the tunnel leading to the surface, the Pack Leader turned his ambiguous gaze in their direction. “Leave it. Orril, the thing is your responsibility.”

“Yes, my lord,” responded the short raider. He rose quickly to his feet and took control of the prisoner. At his command, the Quel knelt again. Two guards remained long enough to bind the beastman’s legs together, then, saluting, they hurried after their comrades.

“Would it not be wiser to-”

“It shall watch, Kanaan. I want it to watch.”

There was no argument. One did not argue with the Pack Leader . . . at least not often if one wanted to keep one’s head.

The raider leader touched several crystals. D’Marr felt a tingle, but it passed away. The Quel was leaning forward, his dark eyes narrowed. You don’t like what you see, do you, beastie? Did you underestimate my lord simply because his world is not always ours? What were you expecting? I wonder. He observed with care the way the captive followed each and every gesture made by Lord D’Farany. There was growing apprehension in the monster’s ugly countenance. This was more than what the Quel had expected, he thought. He uses your toy like an adept, doesn’t he? You expected less of him, didn’t you?

It was then that the chamber . . . twinkled. That was the only word that D’Marr thought appropriate. Even though they were well into the depths of the earth, stars now shone bright above them. A thousand points of light sparkled, almost a dizzying effect. Colors from one end of the spectrum to the other danced about like fairies wild and gay. There was a low, almost inaudible hum that seemed to course through the mind. The young Aramite gritted his teeth. The others were either unaware of it or affected in a different manner. D’Marr only knew that it set him on edge, made him want to flee the area. He could not, of course, do any such thing.

“Kanaan . . . I will take the box now.” Perhaps it was some trick of his addled perceptions, but D’Marr thought it seemed as if it were a different Lord D’Farany who stood there. This one was almost sane in speech and manner. The eyes were nearly focused on what he was doing. His words did not come out in sometimes random phrases, but rather as complete and, for the most part, coherent statements.

Somehow, it only made him that much more frightening.

The blue man removed a small black box and turned it quickly over to the Pack Leader. Orril D’Marr squinted. He knew what was in the box, but could not fathom what purpose the Pack Leader had in mind for the contents. The thing within was dead, powerless. The Pack Leader had drained it during the initial assault against the Quel. It was nothing more than a memento of the past now . . . wasn’t it?

Lord D’Farany opened the box and removed from it the Aramite talisman that he had used to silence the Quel’s power.

A muffled hoot made D’Marr glance down at the captive. The Quel had evidently fathomed the raider leader’s intentions. He squirmed anew, trying to free himself from bonds designed to hold creatures much stronger than he. D’Marr increased the intensity of his scepter and jolted the Quel back into submission. He would have liked to have asked the beastman what concerned him so, but he had neither the time nor the means to do so. We will know soon enough . . .

The former keeper inspected the curved artifact. “There can be no flaw,” he explained to no one in particular. “All of my calculations of the past days demand that. Any flaw would mean disaster.”

It was no comfort at all to the young raider that D’Rance was just as dismayed by the comment as he was. The blue man took an involuntary step backward and, if anything, was a much paler blue than he had been seconds before.

D’Farany looked up from his work. He gazed at the Quel as if seeing him for the first time. “This device is recent, isn’t it? I thought as much. It lacks the care and design of so much else here, yet it holds so much more potential. Why did you build it?”

The Quel, of course, could not and would not answer. This was apparently unimportant to Lord D’Farany. He shrugged and returned his concern to the Aramite talisman and the peculiar creation of the armored underdwellers.

“It is incomplete. I shall complete it for y-for me.”

With his free hand he rearranged the central pattern, plucking gemstones from their chosen locations and replacing them with others from the array. The Quel started to shake and twist, but still to no avail. D’Marr gave his captive another touch of the rod, but even then the massive figure continued to shift.

Satisfied with his alterations, the Pack Leader added the talisman to the arrangement.

The room crackled . . . and from each point of light a bolt of blue darted toward the Quel creation.

D’Marr covered his eyes and ducked down. The blue man pressed himself against the wall nearest to the entrance to the chamber and simply stared. Beside D’Marr, the underdweller rocked back and forth as if expecting the end of everything.