Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III

by Richard A. Knaak

“Not quite.” The renegade held up the knife. At first it appeared that he was going to throw it, but then Toma did a strange thing. He took the dark blade by the grip and replaced it in his belt. “There will be a terrible battle in here, yesss. Alas, only one will sssurvive. Toma will have killed the daughter of Cabe Bedlam, but the warlock and his arch foe will die together in a blaze of power that will leave few remains. Caught up in that sorcerous conflagration will also be the perhapsss not ssso trustworthy heir to the throne and the female called Ursa. Only one will sssurvive, a young lad who hasss alwaysss been more of a favorite to some of the Dragon Kingsss than his own brother.”

  “What are you babbling about?” hissed Kyl. “What sssort of fanciful ssstory isss that? You have-”

  The dragon heir swallowed the rest of his words as a horrific transformation took place. Toma melted, growing smaller. The massive dragonhelm crest shriveled to nothing and the helm itself pulled away. A handsome, almost human face took the place of the broad, flat visage of Toma.

  Moments later, where the drake duke had been, Grath now stood. In every way, in every movement, Cabe would have sworn that it was Kyl’s brother and not the renegade.

  “Did I do well, Master Bedlam?” asked Toma in Grath’s voice. An uncharacteristic sneer crossed the golden-green features. “I contemplated a masquerade like this in the beginning, but there were many reasonsss why the other path wasss better.” Toma/Grath tilted his head to one side and gave the others an innocent look. “Still, I think that I can easily fool those great drake lords. I have done so before. I’m sure that Lords Green or Blue will even give me sssanctuary when I tell them that I do not trussst my safety at the Manor. For obvious reasssons, of course.”

  The knife gave him the power to create such a thorough masquerade. Cabe knew now that there had been a Benjin Traske at one time and that Toma had killed him as he had killed so many before. His present plan had merit, too, for none of the Dragon Kings, not even the Green Dragon, knew Grath well enough to see the difference. Toma had probably studied everyone of importance living in the Manor, all the better to know his enemies. The warlock was certain that, given the opportunity, Toma’s new form would fool the drakes. How the duke planned to rule through illusion for possibly the next few centuries, Cabe did not know. What he did know, however, was that if there was one creature capable of succeeding in such madness, it was Toma.

  There was still one question, though. . . .

  As if reading his mind, which for Toma might be possible, the false Grath added, “And surely you mussst be wondering how I plan to make all of thisss work.”

  Toma blinked once. It was, to Cabe’s eyes, a very deliberate blink. Cabe felt a mild tug of the surrounding powers and recalled when the duke had earlier done the same thing.

  A signal. He’s summoned someone . . . someone inside!

  A peculiar, almost mournful howl echoed through the chamber from within the deeper parts of the cavern system. By the echo, whatever had made the cry was not far. A second wail indicated that it was drawing nearer at an incredible pace.

  “What in the name of the Dragon of the Depthsss isss that?” whispered Kyl, so stunned he had temporarily forgotten his rage.

  Toma/Grath smiled. It was a smile that told Cabe he should recognize the sound.

  The warlock did. It was a cry that he had not heard since a day years ago when he and Gwendolyn had fought a frenzied Gold Dragon. It was the call of a monstrosity, a thing that should not have survived its time in the hatcheries of the drakes but somehow had. Only through a combined effort had it been defeated last time, to go fleeing deep into the vast underground system. Cabe had hoped that it had died there.

  A misshapen form lumbered out of the tunnels and into the throne room of the Dragon Emperor. It caught sight of the warlock, and there and then Cabe knew that, as he had remembered it, so had the beast remembered him.

  The monster started toward him, jaws wide.

  XXI

  Darkhorse paced, and as he did, he eyed the two great dragons guarding the entrance into Kivan Grath. They returned his gaze with steady ones of their own. He knew that this pair would not be stared down, however much that would have been preferable to the other choice. If it came to battle, the eternal was certain that he would be victorious, but any combat would leave him even weaker than he was now. Darkhorse had not yet had the time to recover from his imprisonment; whatever his captors had done with him while he had been a victim of the box had sapped much of his strength.

  He did not want to endanger his friends. Better he remain here and do nothing than become a detriment during a possible duel with foul Toma.

  What made the situation more worrisome was the silence that greeted Darkhorse every time he attempted to reach Cabe. He was aware that the sanctum of the Dragon Emperor likely had spells that kept whatever was said within a secret, but both dragons had received commands from someone inside. That meant that it was possible to forge a link with Cabe. Certainly, his human friend had intended to send him word of the conditions of Toma’s captives. The warlock knew how much Darkhorse cared for his children; there should have been some word. He was certain of it.

  Had there already been a battle? Had Cabe been prevented from summoning him?

  Darkhorse ceased his pacing and turned to confront the two mammoth guardians. The dragons studied him with wary eyes.

  He tried to look his most impressive. “I must know what is happening in there.”

  Their responses were the same. Both dragons hissed and readied their claws. The eternal felt each guardian draw power in possible preparation of a magical assault.

  Darkhorse gouged a ravine in the rocky soil beneath him. His pupilless eyes glittered. “Yes, I did not think you would like that statement.”

  “You will have to passs usss to gain entrance, demon sssteed!” snarled the one Cabe had identified as Faras.

  Sighing, the shadow steed started toward them at a trot. He tried to ignore the vast reservoirs of power the two behemoths were gathering. Between the two of them, they did have sufficient ability to end his existence. He told himself that he would just have to learn to ignore that particularly unsavory fact. Otherwise, thinking about it might be the death of him. “I still have hope that you might reconsider the necessity of that. . . .”

  “ HALT!”

  At the sound of Duke Toma’s voice, the monstrosity paused. It looked, absurd as the image was, like a puppy that had just been forbidden its favorite chewing bone. As he was to have been that bone, Cabe appreciated the reprieve, but the warlock also knew very well that the drake had not protected him out of any sudden change of heart.

  Duke Toma, again resembling himself, looked from the creature to his adversary. “I think he remembers you, Master Bedlam!”

  “Father!” whispered a horrified Valea. “What is that?”

  “Misfit . . .” muttered Ursa, breaking her silence. “Freak of nature . . . they usually don’t live this long. . . .”

  It only remotely resembled a dragon. The thing was several times taller than a human, but that was in part because it stood on two legs instead of four. The tail that dragged for several yards behind was all that allowed it to balance. Even still, the monster teetered at times, in great part because its head was far too large for its body. Strange follicles almost resembling whiskers hung down from above its maw. Two spindly, almost useless arms waved back and forth in agitation.

  It should have been dead. It should have died of starvation or something after Cabe and Gwen had forced it into the depths of the immense cavern system. Trust my luck that not only did it survive, but Toma found it first!

  The renegade was laughing, no doubt in part because of the expression that had crossed the warlock’s countenance when the beast had first started toward him.

  “Yesss, I think you recognize each other. He isss more than a dumb beassst like a riding drake, human. He is very much like usss, a thinking-to a point, that is-creature. Doubt not that he recalls what you
did to him and the one who gave him care and purposesss. Doubt not that he remembers well when you took his provider from him.”

  At the comment, the thing howled. Everyone but Toma was forced to put their hands to their ears until the monster ceased.

  The duke silenced his pet with a glare. Had he not known what the creature was capable of, the mage would have felt more sympathetic toward its plight. It craved guidance. It needed someone to command it. Unfortunately, that someone had first been the Gold Dragon and now was the renegade.

  “How did you find it?” Cabe asked Toma, not so much because he wanted to know but because he was desperately trying to think of some way to defeat the monster before it literally destroyed him with a glance.

  To his relief, Toma was willing to explain. After so many years of silently coordinating his various plots, it was not surprising that the renegade might desire to boast of his success to his enemies. “After the death of my sssire in the Northern Wastes, I returned to this cavern. Although I dared not leave signs of my stay in the upper system, I was still able to spend quite some time here recuperating and thinking.” There was a distant look in Toma’s eye. “I know the cavernsss of Kivan Grath better than anyone. I explored their depths asss no one before me or sssince. There are few sssecrets here that I am not privy to.” He pointed at the waiting monstrosity. “Who do you think firssst noted the potential and informed the emperor asss to the possibilitiesss? I am always looking ahead, plotting for every circumssstance . . . but then, you know that now, don’t you?”

  Kyl moved a step, but Toma’s pet turned and eyed him, causing the young drake to grow still once more. The monster seemed a bit confused by Kyl, Cabe noted. Why that was, he did not know, but it was something definitely worth considering . . . provided that Toma gave him the time to do so.

  The duke gave Kyl a mocking smile. “It would be ill-advisssed to move much, Your Majesty. Asssk Master Bedlam. He knows what this creature can do. A magical marvel! A fire-breathing dragon in reverssse! Let him fix his baleful eye on you long enough, and suddenly the world will feel like an inferno. It will be asss if all the heat of the world isss building up within you and there is nothing you can do to douse those fires. All thisss will happen in but the blink of an eye, too.

  “You will burst into flamesss and be consumed from within. A truly novel death, at the very leassst. Our sssire found him to be a very useful tool, much to the permanent regrets of the traitorousss kings Bronze and Iron.”

  Everyone knew that something had happened to the two Dragon Kings who had sought to usurp control from their counterpart, Gold. What the emperor had done had been a mystery. The only thing that most knew was that there had been little left of either drake lord. The deaths had, for a time, quelled any further notion of rebellion by the surviving monarchs.

  “Massster Bedlam!” whispered Ursa in as quiet a voice as possible. “I remember that thing . . . I sssaw it once; heard our sire talk about it. The . . . the creature was blindly obedient to the emperor!”

  Blindly obedient? To the Dragon Emperor? A plan, admittedly thin in substance, came to the warlock. At the very least, it would throw Duke Toma’s plans into chaos . . . hopefully all of them, this time.

  “The emperor must’ve taken good care of it for it to have survived at all. It must’ve been very loyal to him.”

  Toma was visibly amused by the continuing conversation. He was clearly prolonging it only to give his foes desperate hope. In the drake’s eyes, he held all the cards.

  Cabe hoped that did not prove to be true.

  “Only my sssire had greater control over him than I did . . . and now, only I am his massster!”

  The monster’s attention strayed to Toma while the renegade spoke, but then the head slowly swung toward Kyl again. It was not simply the young drake who seemed to interest him, though, but also Kyl’s proximity to the throne.

  “But if Gold-if the Dragon Emperor were here,” persisted Cabe, “it might not even look at you.”

  Toma now only looked annoyed at his comments. Cabe dared not look at Kyl, for fear that the renegade would realize what he was attempting to do. The drake duke folded his arms and stared at the warlock. “I think that this missserable attempt to drag out the last few momentsss of your lives has come to an end, human.” He had eyes for no one other than Cabe. “I think that it isss time to end our long and colorful association, don’t you?”

  The renegade turned to the monstrous creature, who seemed to shiver in anticipation.

  “Stop!” roared a commanding voice that echoed throughout the caverns. “I, your emperor, command it!”

  Even Toma could not help but turn.

  Cabe thanked the Dragon of the Depths and whatever else might be watching out for Kyl and the others. The heir had picked up on what the warlock had been hinting at . . . picked up on it and taken it further than Cabe could have believed possible.

  Kyl no longer stood near the throne. Instead, impossible as it was to believe, there loomed before them a dragon as had not been seen in years. To Cabe, it was as if time itself had stepped backward, resurrecting for all to see the glory of the Dragon Emperors in the form of the drake lord Gold.

  He had confronted the emperor only in the final moments, when that glory had been, in great part, tarnished by madness. Kyl, on the other hand, was a sleek, gleaming leviathan, the epitome of glory and command.

  For several seconds, even Toma was speechless. He gaped at the dazzling sight, then recalled himself. Hissing loudly, the duke whirled to his pet beast and pointed at the sun-drenched form atop the dais. “Slay him!”

  In response, the monster emitted a mournful howl. Duke Toma stepped back as if slapped. The creature took a few tentative steps toward Kyl, then paused to glance at the renegade.

  It remembers the Dragon Emperor as its guardian! It did not matter that this was not the same dragon. Kyl was similar enough in form that even Cabe had had to look twice to see the differences. Toma’s pet had evidently sensed the kinship from the beginning. Moreover, to it, the throne represented the emperor, the one who had given it a place. The beast was understandably torn in its loyalties. Kyl had solidified that impression by taking on the form of his sire.

  The heir had done something more than simply copy the appearance of his father. Cabe doubted that Kyl had ever so completely changed form before. What everyone saw now was the form that the drake, had he not been influenced by human presence, would have certainly worn when he had reached adulthood. What stood before them was truly Kyl, emperor of the drake race.

  It was a realization that did not sit well with Toma.

  “What are you waiting for, you misssguided monstrosssity? That isss not the one who gave you purpose! That isss an enemy of hisss in disguise! I am the only one you can trussst here!”

  The beast wavered, again unleashing its mournful howl.

  “How horrible!” whispered Valea. Cabe glanced at her, thinking that she meant the misshapen drake, but his daughter’s eyes were fixed on Kyl. It occurred to him then that Valea had never considered the heir’s other form. Not truthfully. She had no doubt realized that as one of the drake race Kyl had another form, but imagining it and seeing it were two entirely different things. Kyl was a handsome dragon, but he was still a dragon and not the exotic young man the witch had grown up knowing. It mattered not that she had seen Ursa change, either. Ursa was not Kyl.

  “You will obey me,” roared the heir to Toma’s pet. “Obey me and I will protect you.”

  That was all the monster evidently needed to hear, for it started to trot toward the dais much the way a small, lost animal that has finally found its mother might have.

  No one betrayed Duke Toma. Grath had learned that, much to his misfortune. The renegade evidently intended Kyl to learn that, too, for the warlock barely had time to act as he saw Toma pull the deadly blade from his belt and stretch his arm back in order to throw it at the heir, who was preoccupied with guiding the monster to him.

  As q
uick as Cabe was, Ursa was even quicker. She leapt toward the turned Toma, already shifting her form. Yet, if the female drake had hoped to catch the renegade off guard, she had not counted on Toma’s propensity for survival. Somehow, the drake always had some response ready, even if circumstances warranted it to be a swift one.

  Toma barely succeeded in maintaining a hold on his blade. There was, much to Cabe’s relief, no time for the duke to turn the knife directly on the attacking drake, but he was still able to bring down the hard handle on the side of her head. As she had not yet completely altered her form, her head lacked the scaly armor and thick skull of a dragon. More importantly, the spark that flew off when blade met skull was clear proof that the dark knife was ensorcelled on many levels.

  Ursa struck the floor already unconscious. All vestiges of her change dwindled away, leaving her in the human form she had always so much preferred.

  “Ssstupid, ussseless female!” sneered Toma.

  Unable to act before without possibly harming the brave drake, Cabe attacked the moment Ursa was out of his line of sight. The spell was not an intricate one; the warlock’s only intention was to permanently part Toma from his blade. The weapon was the key to much of the renegade’s work, including, Cabe suspected, the spell that surrounded the cavern.

  Near the dais, Toma’s monster had turned back at the sounds of struggle. Now the creature wanted to join its former master, but repeated commands by Kyl were so far keeping it in check. It continued to howl, frustrated by the two conflicting loyalties.

  Cabe did not strike at the blade itself, suspecting that among the powers that Toma had imbued it with was some sort of shield. Grath had been able to hold it a short time, but that was because he had simply been trying to halt its flight, not affect the weapon itself. Instead of the blade, the warlock chose to strike at the renegade. Granted, Toma was probably also protected, but what Cabe planned was not exactly a direct attack.

  Without warning, the duke’s hand opened wide. The drake’s expression was indication enough that he had not wanted to open his hand, especially as that meant he no longer had a grip on the knife. Toma tried to seize the falling weapon with his other hand, but it was too late.