Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III

Cabe eased him back down. “Dead or scattered. The same holds true for the Quel. Most are dead, I think.”

“My son . . . his murderer . . .”

“Demion?” Neither Darkhorse nor the Gryphon had made mention of this terrible news before. “When? Who did it?” Fury rose within the spellcaster. If the lionbird was beyond avenging his only son, Cabe would try to find the strength to do it.

However, the lionbird shook his head. “No, Cabe. Demion’s murderer . . . Orril . . . D’Marr . . .” The look of disgust on that avian visage spoke volumes concerning the wolf raider. “He lies in that crater there . . . buried under several tons . . . of earth.” The Gryphon pointed at the gaping hole with his maimed hand. “D’Marr never did find out . . . the great Quel secret . . . was the Quel themselves. I would have liked . . . to see if that would have cracked that . . . mask of his.” He laughed very briefly, then sobered. “My son can rest. I can rest . . . but only for a time. Lord D’Farany-”

“Your son, you, and Troia can all rest, Gryphon. The keeper is dead. I know. He died right before my eyes.” In response to his companion’s questioning stare, the warlock explained the Crystal Dragon’s spell and the use of D’Farany’s talisman. He also spoke of Plool and the Vraad’s swift and foolish death. The very end of his tale he reserved for Ivon D’Farany’s inability to suffer so great a loss twice in one lifetime. Addicted to his power, he could not survive a second withdrawal. “He collapsed in my arms and when I studied him close, I saw that he was dead.”

“A-a fitting way for him. I thank you, Cabe.”

The warlock shook his head. “I was only a part of it. The one who guided me through much of this, albeit not always with my approval, wa-”

“Cabe!” Darkhorse suddenly called, sounding more like his old self. He was still a shifting, near-formless thing, but the eyes seemed a bit brighter . . . and now very concerned, too. “I think I see . . . see soldiers approaching!”

With the Gryphon too weak to be of use, Cabe tried his best to make out the shapes in the distance. It was not noon in Legar, a fortunate thing, but the sun was bright enough already to force him to squint. He would have to create copies of the Dragon King’s eye protectors when he had the opportunity. That is, if he had the opportunity. The figures did resemble soldiers and their high helms, at least from this distance, were shaped akin to the wolf’s head helms of the Aramites.

“Some surviving officer must have . . . have reorganized survivors,” the lionbird added, becoming exhausted by the continual task of trying to talk coherently. “We’ll have to fight . . . them.”

Glancing at his friends, Cabe was not particularly hopeful. He might be able to get off a spell, but he was not certain as to its potency. If the wolf raiders had any sort of magical protection, then the three of them had little chance. Their greatest hope, Darkhorse, did not even have the strength to reshape himself.

The figures were still too distant. “Could they be soldiers from Zuu?”

“Are they leading horses?” asked the Gryphon in return.

“No, they’re on foot.”

“Then, they are . . . not from Zuu. A soldier of . . . Zuu always has . . . his mount with him. And they . . . do not . . . wear armor at all resembling . . . resembling . . . that of the raiders.”

That was true, but Cabe had hoped. He continued to watch, thinking that maybe the soldiers would not see them, when he noticed a newcomer. It was a rider on some beast not a horse. Cabe’s brow wrinkled. Then, the rider turned a little in the saddle and abruptly became a blinding, glittering beacon. The other soldiers, turning, also seemed to suddenly blaze with the glory of the sun.

“They’re not wolf raiders,” he informed the others. “They’re allies.” I hope, he added to himself.

The gleaming warrior astride the riding drake might have been the same one that Cabe had mistaken for the Crystal Dragon, but the warlock could not be certain until the warrior spoke.

“Master Bedlam. I am Gemmon, my lord’s first duke. Pleased I am to have found you and yours alive in all this ruin.”

“You were looking for us?” The perfection with which the drake spoke did not really startle Cabe any more than the interesting fact that the dragon men were not using the forms they had been born with, which would have made searching Legar swifter and easier. The Dragon King’s human tastes had no doubt spread to his subjects.

“For you and survivors of both abominations. My lord leaves nothing to chance, although the humans will have scattered eastward and the cursssed Quel will burrow very deep. We lack the strength to hunt them down, but there are those lying among the dead who must still be dispatched and others wandering about that must be rounded up and dealt with in some manner.”

Cabe was not certain whether the drakes were putting the badly wounded to death out of pity or their need for further satisfaction. The warlock knew that he did not have the strength to fight for those lives and, in truth, he was hard-pressed to find a reason to spare either the Aramites or the Quel. Still, it did bother him . . .

“I have been instructed,” the drake continued, “to assist you and yours across the border into Esedi. Servants of the Green One will be there to help you return to your loved ones.” He eyed Darkhorse with some confusion. “Although as to what-”

“I will make do,” retorted the eternal. He sounded even stronger, but Cabe was not certain whether that might just be a front before the minions of the Dragon King.

“You have our gratitude,” the warlock interjected, not desiring a confrontation. “But there is one thing I must ask.”

“What is that?”

“I’d like to speak to your master. I insist upon it.”

The warrior looked uncomfortable. “He . . . hasss secluded himself from all for the time being. The sssspell was taxing, even for him.”

Cabe noted the nervousness, but would not be put off by the drake’s fear. “Tell him I will make my visit short.”

“I can tell him nothing. He will not even sssspeak to me, human.”

Glancing at the Gryphon and Darkhorse, Cabe said, “Then see to my friends. Help them on their way to the border. I’ll join you all when I can.”

The Gryphon stirred. “Cabe, surely you do not . . . intend to simply . . . simply materialize before a Dragon King . . . especially this Dragon King.”

The warlock was already rising. “I do. Call it concern.”

“Concern? For the Crystal Dragon?” Even the drake warrior found this a bit incredulous.

Shrugging, Cabe replied, “If not for him, then maybe a little concern for a man who once called himself Logan.”

He vanished while the others were still puzzling over that last statement.

XIX

“Whaaat do yooou want, ssssorcerer?”

Cabe, who had just materialized, was taken aback by the horrific change in the Crystal Dragon’s voice. His voice was now more reminiscent of a true Dragon King.

Undaunted, the warlock replied, “I came to see how you were. I think I know something of what you went through, wouldn’t you say?”

The Crystal Dragon was a hill of gemstones pressed tight against the far end of the chamber. There was little light and the walls were dull, opaque things. Cabe could not even see the drake lord’s countenance.

“I . . . sssurvived. You need know nothing morrre.”

It would do no good to press the point, Cabe decided. He was disappointed, but knew that there was nothing he could do. Instead, he asked, “What will you do about your kingdom? Legar is in ruins. If my help would