“Have you no contact with him . . . in any way?”
“He is not one for conversation, human. Ever has his line kept to itself. He does not seek our company, and in truth, we have ever avoided his.”
Cabe considered this. “You have no contact with him?”
The drake lord bared his teeth, but not because of any anger toward the mage. Rather, he appeared frustrated at himself. “I have no contact, friend warlock. No spies. Through no method have I ever succeeded in divining his purposes . . . if he has any. Do not think that I have not tried. Do not think that my brothers have not tried, too.”
“What about the rest of Legar?”
A reptilian smile briefly crossed the shadowed countenance. The Green Dragon straightened, then rose from his throne. Cabe did not step back, as many would have done, but merely crooked his neck and looked up. He knew the Green Dragon well enough to know that the monarch respected more those who stood up to him. “Of the rest of Legar, there is generally nothing of interest, friend Cabe. The land glitters, but it is devoid of a soul. One might as well observe the snow-smothered Northern Wastes, for there is just as likely something happening there as there is in the hot, dry domain my brother rules.” The smile died. The Dragon King stepped down from the dais so that he was more or less at eye level with his guest. “Yet, I trust your word and your judgment when you say that now that may have changed. You make me curious for the first time.” He paused, then hissed. “If you will join me on a short walk, perhaps there is a way to answer your questions . . . and your fears.”
“Where are we going?”
“I have been awaiting the opportunity to test a creation of mine. I see no reason why this should not be the perfect time. Come. It would be better to show it to you before I explain.”
The drake lord led him into one of the branching tunnels and through the mazelike passages that were common among the lairs of his kind. Some of the passages were huge, perfect for a full-grown dragon, but others, newer, were designed strictly for creatures the size of a man or a drake in human form. Cabe knew that many Dragon Kings, especially the line that had ruled Dagora, often had human servants, but they did not generally dig their tunnels to accommodate those servants. The smaller pathways had come into existence about the time that the drakes had begun to favor the humanoid forms.
They came at last to a pair of plain bronze doors, something rare in the depths of a dragon lair. The bronze doors indicated how valuable the contents of the chamber behind them were to the woodland monarch. Four guards, all human, interestingly enough, were another good sign that any who trespassed here forfeited everything.
At a gesture from the drake lord, the guards stepped aside and the doors swung open. The reptilian ruler waved a taloned hand at the warlock, indicating he should enter first.
Cabe never knew what to expect when he was brought to the Green Dragon’s inner sanctum. Each time, something was different. The lords of Dagora had always been scholars, their prime interests tending to run either to the vast history of the continent or the workings of magic as various races used it. There was no one save perhaps the Crystal Dragon who knew as much.
To a mage, the chamber was a collection worthy of envy. Seeker medallions hung next to tapestries by a race whose face and form not even the Dragon King knew. The tapestries were older than anything else and the images always revolved around landscapes that did not exist, at least now, anywhere in the realm. There were bottles filled with specimens of both animal and vegetable origin and row upon row of great tomes, many of which the drake lord had long ago admitted he had yet to decipher.
The Dragon King turned to the guards. “You may close the doors. No one is to enter, no matter what you might hear. That includes everyone.”
“Yes, my lord,” the men chorused. Two of them took hold of the handles and pulled the bronze doors shut. The Green Dragon’s human servants were ever swift and thorough in their obedience, but unlike those who served many of the other drake lords, these obeyed out of pure loyalty. The Masters of the Dagora Forest had almost always cared for their humans as much as they did their own kind.
When they were alone, the reptilian knight turned back to his guest. “Have no concern, Massster Cabe. The warning was more for the sake of our privacy than to hint of any danger to our beings.”
“I hoped as much.” Despite the words of his host, however, Cabe was not completely at ease. Any venture that involved delving into the realm of the Crystal Dragon had to have at least a tiny element of danger inherent in it.
The Green Dragon stalked toward a small alcove in which a pedestal no higher than the warlock’s waist stood. Carved into the flat top of the marble artifact was an array of symbols that looked vaguely familiar to him. The memory was so distant and hazy, however, that he wondered if perhaps it was not one of his own but rather something left over from when he had shared the memories of Nathan.
“This is what I wished to show you. It isss far superior to anything that my brothers have . . . save perhaps the one we seek to learn more of. I have only recently completed its creation; one would almost think that your request had been foreseen by the Dragonrealm itself.”
The warlock did not like to think about that. Too often, it seemed that the Dragonrealm somehow controlled his life and the lives of those he cared for. “What does it do? How does it work?”
“An explanation now would pale against the actuality. It is best if you simply observe.”
Cabe watched as the Dragon King first passed his hand over the symbols and then touched three of them. Again, a memory of the far past teased Cabe, but he forced it down. All that he knew was that the patterns carved into the pedestal were of a language of sorts, but not the common tongue spoken by humans and drakes. However, there had been many races that had preceded the Dragon Kings and at least some of them had spoken and written in other tongues. In the Dragonrealm, there were even those kingdoms where the written form of Common was undecipherable by any save those who had grown up learning it. When time permitted, he would ask the Dragon King about the markings, but now there were more important tasks at hand.
As he completed a second arrangement of symbols, the drake lord explained some of what he was doing. “The patterns are directly tied to specific forces in the Dragonrealm, almost the way a sorcerer’s mind is when he reaches out to use power, but more precisely. There isss less chance for random failure due to a lack of concentration and a greater ability to focus on specific regions or even individualsss.” The drake’s sibilance grew as he became excited about the subject. “It alssso drains the mage usssing it less than mossst mechanisms becaussse it does not require the great amount of willpower that cryssstals often do.”
The Green Dragon performed one more pass over the pedestal, then stepped back.
“What happens now?”
“Wait . . . and watch.”
At first, it was only a small black spot. It hovered over the center of the artifact, slowly growing. When it was the size of his hand, its form shifted, making it look more like a dark cloud about to unleash a tempest. He almost expected to see lightning and torrential rains. Slowly, though, the cloud thinned until it was almost transparent. As it thinned it continued to grow. Only when the dark mass was the size of Cabe’s chest did it stop. By this point, he could see the wall beyond through it, but other than that, there was nothing, not even the most vague of images. After several anxious breaths, he finally could wait no longer. “Is there something wrong?”
“No,” was all the drake replied.
Even as the Dragon King spoke, the thin cloud convulsed. Cabe almost took a step back, but when he saw that the Dragon King was nodding his head, he realized that this was part of the spell. The cloud continued to convulse, but now the changes in its form became specific things. Leaning forward, Cabe held his breath as he realized what he was seeing. The things became true shapes and the shapes became distinct features. Tiny hills sprouted and ravines deepened. The upper half of t
he vision turned blue as the heavens divided from the earth. The now nearly formed landscape suddenly glistened as light from an unseen source blanketed it.
A miniature world had blossomed into being. No, not a world, Cabe corrected himself, but simply a portion of one. A very familiar one.
It was the rocky, glittering hills of Legar. They floated before the two, not as some flat image, but as a very real place. It was as if someone had stolen a part of the land, shrunken it down, and brought it before them. The warlock wanted to reach forward and see if he could touch it, but he knew that the sight before him was illusion, nothing more.
“What do you think, Master Bedlam?”
“It’s . . . nothing’s good enough, my lord. The detail is unbelievable!”
“We can focus on even smaller areas. Like so.”
The image changed. This time, it had magnified so much that Cabe could now make out individual leaves on one of the few hardy bushes that dotted the viewed region. A small creature no bigger than his hand scuttled from under a rock to the bush.
“That wasss the easy part,” his host commented. The Green Dragon’s entire body spoke of sudden uncertainty. “What we see is on the very borders of the peninsula. Now, we mussst delve deeper into Legar . . . and that will most certainly invite the interest of my brother!”
“You don’t intend to try to contact him?”
“It may be that we can learn what we need to know without resorting to that.”
The dark-haired spellcaster glanced surreptitiously at his companion. He’s afraid of the Crystal Dragon! Immediately after thinking that, Cabe felt ashamed. Not afraid. More wary than afraid. The Green Dragon knew and respected the power of his counterpart to the west. Cabe, having witnessed that power in the past, understood some of what the Master of Dagora must be thinking. No one, not even the most vicious of the Dragon Kings, wanted to invite the wrath of the Crystal Dragon down upon them.
Yet, if the lord of Legar was so great a power in the realm, what did Cabe’s visions mean? What was there that might threaten the enigmatic drake lord and the rest of the Dragonrealm as well?
How were the wolf raiders involved? By themselves could they possibly be so great a danger? He wished that he knew more about the Crystal Dragon.
He wished that someone did.
The Green Dragon touched the markings again. The image wavered, then shifted as the Dragon King sought to journey deeper into the domain of his counterpart. They saw nothing unusual at first, simply the same crystal-encrusted hills and the occasional bit of plant life. Now and then, a bird flew overhead, likely on its way to more hospitable climes. The image of the first such avian amused Cabe, who almost expected it to go flying beyond the edge of the scene and on into the chamber where he stood.
After several minutes of this, however, the warlock grew impatient. He began to wonder whether the Green Dragon might be just a little hesitant about moving toward the western shores of the peninsula. Cabe very much respected the monarch of Legar, probably at least as much as the drake lord beside him, but Green had not suffered through the visions. Cabe wanted an answer and he wanted it soon. At the present rate of progression, it would be some time before they even reached the central lands, the region where the clan caverns of the Crystal Dragon were supposed to start.
“My lord.” His determination slipped a bit as the drake turned his blazing eyes to him, but Cabe persevered. “My lord, can’t we leap from where we are now and view the western tip of Legar? If, as I believe, the answer lies out there, then we may discover it and be done with this within a matter of minutes.”
The Dragon King vacillated, then, with great reluctance, nodded agreement. “Asss you say, it might indeed speed the matter to an end. Very well, give me but a moment, warlock, and I will sssee what I can do.”
Cabe wished he could help, if only to encourage the drake to greater swiftness, but the Dragon King did not ask for his assistance and there was no way that he could offer it without the reptilian monarch taking the offer as a slight to his courage. He satisfied himself with trying to ready his own courage in the face of whatever the magical window revealed to them, especially if what it revealed was the enraged visage of the Crystal Dragon.
“Odd. Very odd.”
The warlock glanced up. “What?”
“There is . . . something . . . blocking our view. See for yourself, Cabe.”
He looked. Over the pedestal, the image that had earlier been conjured wavered and twisted, becoming more of a distorted shadow of its former self. Superimposed on that vision, however, was another. In that one, a much less distinct image than even the first had become, Cabe could make out the movement of several figures. Whether they were human or not was impossible to say, but Cabe stiffened when he realized that all of them were dark, possibly black.
“Sssomething is fighting it!” snarled the Dragon King. His unease had vanished, replaced now by annoyance that something had dared wreak havoc with his creation. He passed his taloned hands over a different arrangement of symbols. The images only became more tangled. Now it looked as if the ghostly figures were trying to walk through the hills.
“By the Dragon of the Depths!” The furious drake lord tried another arrangement, evidently hoping that some combination of forces would overcome the unknown obstacle. Both visions dwindled away, this time to be replaced by a thick, grayish cloud that sparkled as it turned slowly within itself, almost as if a legion of fireflies had gotten themselves trapped in the maelstrom. The Green Dragon stepped away, clearly taken aback by this latest result. After a moment of contemplation, though, he reached once more for the markings on the pedestal.
There was a flash. A sparkling field of light engulfed the unsuspecting drake.
As the flash died, a head filled the air above the artifact; it was the startled countenance of none other than the Crystal Dragon. There was no mistaking the other Dragon King. Only one drake had skin that gleamed like diamond.
His body quivering violently, the Green Dragon shrieked and then fell backward; the face vanished.
Cabe leapt to the side of his companion, the magical window all but forgotten in his concern. He knelt beside the drake, who still quivered, and checked his breathing. It was ragged, but strong enough that the warlock was fairly certain he would live. Taking the Dragon King’s hands, Cabe saw that the drake had been burned bad in each palm. He used a spell to ease the damage and was relieved to note that it was successful. Injuries caused by high magic were sometimes impossible to repair.
As he lowered the Dragon King’s hands, he became aware of the heavy silence that had befallen the chamber. It was the sort of silence, Cabe somehow felt, that preceded utter catastrophe.
From where he knelt, the warlock turned.
An ebony hand vast enough to engulf both Cabe and the Dragon King stretched forth from the pedestal.
Cabe knew that unleashing sheer power at the thing might result in devastation encompassing more than just the chamber, for the Seeker medallions on the shelves alone likely held enough potent force in them to do that. If his wild spell destroyed the talismans, that power would also be released. With all that the Master of the Dagora Forest’s collection held, it went without saying that the medallions would surely not be the only magical artifacts to unleash their long-imprisoned forces.
With no time to consider a counterattack, Cabe chose instead to simply defend. Moving one hand in a swift arc, he surrounded the two of them with a transparent shield. It was basic but potent, one of the earliest spells that he had learned to use by instinct alone.
The fingers of the darksome hand struck the surface of the invisible shield and stopped. Cabe could almost sense the frustration. The guiding force behind the hand was not deterred, however. Readjusting so that its fingers completely gripped the outer limits of the barrier, the malevolent extremity squeezed.
Cabe Bedlam knew that the scene above him was merely the visible representation of two spells seeking to counter each other, bu
t it was impossible not to believe that a real hand was slowly closing upon him. His own spell was buckling already, a sign that whoever or whatever fought him was not only adept at sorcery but was able to draw together forces that would have overwhelmed even Cabe, whose own ability was not slight.
Yet, in the end, the shield accomplished its task. Given a precious moment, he now struck back. There was no need to waste further seconds seeking some elaborate solution. Cabe summoned up a spell that was as much a part of him as it had once been a part of Nathan, his grandfather. A golden bow formed before him, a golden bow that had, in the past, killed a Dragon King. It was a legacy from Nathan. The few sorcerers who had been able to create and make use of it, for the binding of the necessary powers was a time-consuming and touchy matter, had been called such things as the Sunlancers, although Sun Archers would have been more appropriate. The spell took much out of those mages and they were often not able to re-create the bow for months after, but one shot was all that was ever needed. As much as it took out of the spellcaster, it took more out of the target.
A single, gleaming shaft, a streak of blinding brilliance, shot forth from the bow. The shaft flew unimpeded through the shield, since they shared both common origin and cause, and struck the menacing hand. Barely slowed, it continued through the palm and out the other end before Cabe could even blink.
As the sunlit arrow exited, the black hand released its grip and thrashed madly in the air above the warlock. Breathing heavily, Cabe strengthened his shield as best he could, but the act proved unneeded, for the hand was already fading, its magic disrupted and, hopefully, its caster painfully regretting his assault on the two. By the time Cabe drew another breath, the magical menace was no more. Had not the Green Dragon been lying unconscious and injured by his side, he almost would not have believed that the attack had ever happened, for nothing else in the room had been touched by it, not even the pedestal.
Secure, the warlock removed the defensive barrier and hurried to the bronze doors. He took hold of one and flung it open. The anxious but ready gazes of more than two dozen guards, both human and drake, met his own. Cabe pointed behind himself. “Get in here, quick! Your master may need aid! I can’t promise that my spell of healing dealt with all the injuries he suffered!”
Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III Page 7