The blade struck the cavern floor point first and bounced a foot or two away. Cabe noted no change in the conditions around them, despite Duke Toma having no direct control of his toy. Of course, he had not had any such control when Grath had attempted his spell. The blade’s tied to him. It has to be destroyed to be stopped.
That was something easier said than done, especially with the renegade now turning his attention to his old adversary. The drake stretched forth one hand toward the knife while the other he balled into a fist and pointed in Cabe’s direction.
As the knife rose from the floor, the warlock felt his shield buckle under an unseen but incredible force all around him. Cabe strengthened the shield, but doing so drew his concentration from seizing the blade. He watched with frustration as it neared Toma’s open hand.
Then another hand thrust upward from the floor and snared the knife by the handle. Ursa, not so unconscious as Duke Toma had supposed, reversed the blade so that it pointed toward its master. At the same time, she tried to plunge the weapon into the belly of Toma.
There was no doubt that it would have sunk deep, armor or no, but the renegade drake was swifter than Ursa had evidently hoped. Although taken unaware by her sudden revival, Toma recovered quickly. This close, he did not have time to protect himself with a spell, not against such a powerful device as his own magical blade, but he could still move. Toma’s hand came down on the female drake’s own, forcing the blade lower and to the side. Ursa gasped in obvious pain as the duke squeezed.
The knife missed his stomach, but Ursa was evidently stronger than he had supposed. Stronger and swifter.
A hissing cry burst from the renegade as his own dagger plunged almost halfway into his thigh. Armorlike skin failed to slow the sorcerous weapon.
Pulling away, the knife still in his thigh, Duke Toma cursed. The knife and the wound glowed a peculiar green. Fueled by his pain, he struck Ursa as she tried to rise and finish what she had begun. It was quite clear from the angle at which the female drake fell that this time there would be no trick.
From the dais, the dragon Kyl turned to the monster and roared, “Kill him!”
The creature remained where it was, looking confused and almost panic-stricken. It could no more destroy Toma than it could the one it believed was the previous emperor. Distraught, the beast looked up to the ceiling and renewed its howling.
The ceiling shook. A rain of tiny and not-so-tiny fragments buffeted everyone. Even Toma paused in his pain to cover himself as one particularly large chunk of rock fell within a few feet of him.
Cabe tried for what seemed the thousandth time to focus on Toma, but again something prevented him from unleashing a new spell. The something this time proved to be Kyl, who, realizing that there would be no victory through his new pet, charged toward the wounded renegade.
Toma looked up to see several tons of dragon converging on him. He did not seem panicked, however, but rather furious. Foregoing the removal of the enchanted blade, which still glowed, the duke faced his awesome foe and clenched his fists. Kyl was already almost upon him, frustrating the warlock’s attempt. Only a powerful spell could take down Toma, but such a powerful spell would likely include the heir as well. So much power and I stand around like a dithering fool!
There was, however, one thing he could do. That was pull Ursa away from the vicinity of Toma and Kyl. With a glance, he raised the still form of the female drake and brought it swiftly toward himself. At the same time, he whispered, “Valea! Take hold of Ursa the moment she’s near enough. Bring her to the gateway. You have to find some way to open it and summon Darkhorse.”
“But Father, that will leave you alone!”
“Do as I say! Quickly!” Although the tasks he had given her were of great importance, there was a part of the warlock that admittedly desired Valea to be out of harm’s way. Even if she failed to open the gates or contact the eternal, the simple fact that Valea was no longer in here would allow Cabe to fully concentrate on Toma. It was his daughter more than anything else that made it almost impossible for Cabe to completely commit himself to battle.
Even as she took hold of the floating form of her friend with her own sorcery, Cabe’s attention returned to the battle before him. Kyl had reached Toma . . . almost. The majestic golden drake stood above the tinier figure of the renegade, one massive paw attempting to squash Toma. Unfortunately, some unseen barrier prevented Kyl from closing the last two or three feet above the duke’s helmed head. The emperor-to-be roared and attempted to smash through the shield, but the result of his attack was a shriek of pain as the barrier proved even stronger than his full draconian might.
Kyl raised his paw to try again . . . and was enveloped in a ball of lightning.
Above the combined din created by both the crackle of the lightning and the roar of agony unleashed by the dragon, the voice of Duke Toma hissed, “Impudent little fool! You challenge me? You dare think yourssself a match for me becaussse you wear that color? Becaussse you wear a few sssuperficial markings that in no way determine your power or your cunning?”
Still holding the dragon at bay, Duke Toma reached down and seized the blade in his leg. With obvious strain, he plucked out the deadly toy. The renegade wobbled a little, but did not fall.
There was at last distance enough between the two dragons for Cabe to utilize his master spell. He stared directly at the knife and concentrated.
The knife flared white but was in no other way changed. In fact, the only other result of his attack was that Toma now turned to him. “And you, human! That you could ever think yourself my equal! That I have tolerated you for ssso long isss to laugh!”
Kyl took the brief moment of inattention to attempt a new and more daring assault, this time in the form of an attack on the ground around Toma’s feet. The golden dragon tore at the earth, obviously trying to undermine the renegade’s footing.
Pointing the blade toward Kyl, Toma muttered something under his breath.
Blue lightning turned the emperor-to-be into an azure inferno. Cabe watched in horror and stupefaction as Toma’s spell raised Kyl’s overwhelming form several feet above the ground and tossed him toward the far side of the vast cavern.
The huge, gleaming form crashed into the hard, rock surface of the chamber wall. Kyl’s shocked roar became, for a brief moment, an immense grunt of surprise and pain. The grunt was followed by another crash and then silence, as the dragon crumpled to the floor. As with Ursa, Kyl suddenly reverted to his more human form, a transformation that did little to improve his battered look. Unlike his sister, however, it was clear that the heir was not playing at unconsciousness.
The monster started toward Kyl. Toma called to it, but the beast paid him no mind. With its oversized head, the beast nudged the heir’s still body. When Kyl did not move, it squatted next to him and began once more its mournful howling.
“Your plans are crumbling, Toma,” taunted Cabe, a spell at the ready. He wanted the drake just a little farther away from the direction of the entrance. Valea had finally slipped past with Ursa’s floating body, but if the duke realized what was happening, he stood a good chance of taking the two women before the warlock would be able to stop him. “Just like they always do.”
“If there hasss been any fault in my plansss,” hissed the renegade, forgetting all else save the robed figure, “it isss because I have been naive enough to trussst the competence of others. In the end, I mussst always rely on myself.”
“Yourself?” Cabe took a step back and away from the entrance. To his relief, Toma matched his steps, unconsciously moving farther from where Valea had fled. “It was your incompetence that destroyed your plans. It was your incompetence that forced you to abandon the Manor mere days before your plot would have seen fruition.”
Reptilian eyes blazed within the false helm. Toma was finding it difficult to restrain himself. “That was the fault of trusssting children and bumbling fools!”
“Maybe, but who was it who was truly to blam
e for bringing down the Dragon Emperor in the first place? Who was it whose ambition pushed Gold to make the decisions he did?” The warlock straightened and stared Toma in the eye without blinking. “Who was it who secretly urged the kings Brown and Black to hunt down one lone human boy and kill him because of what his grandfather had been? If not for you, I might not be here to stop you now and, perhaps more important to you, Toma, Gold might never have fallen.”
“I will have your tongue, human!”
Cabe had drawn the power that he needed. There was but one more thing that he wanted to say, one more fact he wanted Toma to know, whatever the outcome. “You’ve always desired to be the shaper of the Dragonrealm, Toma, but have you ever considered that you already are? You’ve done more to make the land what it is today than almost anyone else. You brought down the Dragon Emperor, put the drake lords into disarray, and helped make humans and drakes equal.” Cabe Bedlam bowed humbly before the renegade, but his tone, he hoped, held just the proper level of ridicule. “For that, you deserve the thanks of all of us, especially me.”
“You arrogant little vermin!” Toma raised the knife toward Cabe. “You . . . human! I will have you ssstuffed and mounted! I will have you made the centerpiece of a collection of thossse who fell before my glory!”
The sinister dagger blazed.
Cabe released his counterspell just as Toma committed himself.
The warlock was buffeted by an incredible wave of sorcerous energy. He stumbled back and fell to one knee, but then the pressure eased, becoming less and less with each passing breath.
Toma did not understand at first, so caught up was he in the intended destruction of the mage. He did not comprehend until the blade began to shimmer in an odd fashion, alternating between a glow as bright as the sun and a blackness as dark as the night.
“What are you-” was all the renegade managed. Then, Duke Toma hissed in pain.
The dagger dropped from his hand. The palm of his hand was black and blistered.
The knife struck the cavern floor, but this time it did not bounce. In fact, it struck more with a splatter, for the blade was already half-melted.
“Nooo!” Reaching down with his good hand, the renegade attempted to retrieve what was left. He was too late. All that remained was the lower half of the handle, and that melted even as Toma tried to pick it up. The duke snarled and rubbed his fingers.
Around Cabe, it suddenly felt as if a vast barrier had been lifted . . . which, in truth, had happened. Against the power of the blade, Cabe’s options had been limited. Toma had worked his magics all too well in creating the knife. Not only had it helped the drake defeat Kyl, but it also still shielded Darkhorse from the knowledge of what had transpired in the cavern.
Cabe could have wasted his own strength fighting against the shielded walls, the knife, and Toma himself, but there could have been only one outcome to such an unbalanced struggle. Therefore, the sorcerer had instead concentrated on the blade and one of the weaknesses its very function forced upon it.
Only one power was certainly equal to the task of defeating Toma’s plaything. That was the power of the blade itself. It was a trick he had made good use of several times in the past. Cabe’s spell had not been an attack on the knife nor had it been a simple shield against the weapon’s might. What the warlock had instead cast was a conduit of sorts, a magical path that would turn the power of the blade to another purpose. Cabe had refocused the deadly force of the knife against the invisible barrier that cut off all communication between those in the cavern and those in the outside world.
The blade had worked against itself, feeding more and more of its power into the attack on Cabe, which was then turned on the barrier that it projected. In order to strengthen that barrier from the sudden attack, the magical dagger had been forced to further drain itself. Yet, it could not do so for long because Toma’s will continued to force more power into his battle against the apparently impervious shield of his warlock rival.
The result had been too much for Toma’s toy to handle.
He did not wait for the renegade to recover, attacking while the duke still clutched his injured hands. Crimson loops formed around Toma’s legs and torso and attempted to bind his arms together. However, the drake proved to be less disoriented than Cabe had hoped, for suddenly a green aura formed, an aura that proceeded to melt away the loops covering each arm. The aura spread over Duke Toma’s body, dissolving the loops as it touched them. Only when the last of the loops faded to nothing did the green glow dwindle away.
“You continue to pessster me like a flea biting at my flesh!” Toma held his hands palms forward so that Cabe could see them. A haze formed briefly over each palm. As it passed, the burns healed, until there was no sign of the injuries. The renegade hissed again, his forked tongue darting out once. “But that isss all you are, Cabe Bedlam! A flea! A flea!”
Duke Toma’s shape twisted. His form was quicksilver, fluid and changing. He began to expand, as if filling with air. Hands arched, becoming taloned paws. Arms and legs bent at angles that should have broken them. From the renegade’s back tremendous wings sprouted and with them a tail. The savage, leering dragon’s head crest began to sink down and merge with the half-hidden countenance behind the false helm. In but the blink of an eye, Toma grew to several times his original size and continued to expand.
He was not as huge a beast as either Kyl, Faras, or Ssgayn, but Toma the dragon was possibly the most ferocious drake that Cabe had ever encountered. The jaws opened wide as the transformed duke roared, revealing an impossible number of long, sharp teeth. The forest green and sun gold form was lithe and swift in appearance. Toma’s eyes burned with such hatred that the warlock half-expected to drop dead simply from the rage he saw in them.
The dragon rose on his hind legs, obscuring all sight of the dais and the throne. He hissed again, the long, snakelike tongue darting about like a frenzied whip.
“It isss time you learned, flea, what a dragon is truly capable of!” Toma inhaled . . . then exhaled an inferno.
Flames licked the area all around Cabe. His robe burned and the heat seared his flesh. He held in check the scream he wanted to release, instead turning the pain into power. His shield strengthened, cutting off both the flame and the heat. A simpler spell doused the fires on his clothing. The burns he healed just enough to ignore. It would take all his will and ability to fight back. A little pain would have to be endured.
Toma inhaled again. Cabe chose the respite to attack in turn, severing a number of the largest and sharpest of the stalactites from the ceiling. The rain of missiles came down on Toma just as he was about to unleash a second firestorm. The barrage caught the dragon by surprise. One stalactite pierced a wing, while several others battered the outraged leviathan’s head.
Cabe’s success was short-lived. A barrier formed around Toma, a barrier that seemed adept at deflecting the stone missiles. Cabe brought a hand up and turned the swarm aside. The deadly rain pummeled the restored effigies and created a second massive shower of rock that further reduced the area to the wreckage it had been after the warlock’s previous battle here, the one with Toma’s sire, Gold.
The dragon laughed and a malevolent smile crossed the reptilian features. “Flea bitesss! Nothing but flea bitesss! I shall scorch you, rend you, and crush you, human! Then I shall take your precious daughter! Perhapsss I shall make her one of my dams! Humansss and drakesss are capable of procreating, you know. I have . . . ssseen it. Then, I shall take your son and your lovely bride-all of your companionsss-and, one by one, teach them the meaning of ssslow death! I should be able to keep myssself amusssed with them for months at a time!” Toma laughed again, loosening a few more stalactites that fell harmlessly around him. “And, knife or not, as Grath, I shall look on, properly mournful but unable to end the terror!”
He would do it, too. Everything that Toma had just promised, even without the baleful dagger to aid him, he would do. Cabe knew that, and a cold, ever so cold, fear over
whelmed him. Yet, instead of being left numb and paralyzed, the fear stirred within him a rage, a need to react and overcome that very fear.
His voice was surprisingly calm as he started toward the malignant drake. “You won’t be doing anything to anybody, Toma. I can’t allow that. I can’t let you leave to cause more horror. It has to end here.”
Toma laughed again and, raising one huge, taloned paw, caused a storm to form above and around the tiny figure that dared to defy him. Wind and rain rocked Cabe, while thunder deafened him and lightning sought to strike him down.
Gritting his teeth, the warlock somehow found the wherewithal to continue forward. Fueled by his fatalistic determination, Cabe’s shield spell held against the onslaught of the magical storm. Toma roared and increased its fury, but still his foe advanced.
Within only yards of the leviathan, Cabe at last attacked. He raised his hands before his chest, and from between them there suddenly formed a sphere of blinding blue light. The sphere grew to twice the size of a man’s head, then flew forward as if shot from a catapult.
Wings stretching, the dragon snorted his disdain and nodded almost minutely at the oncoming projectile. A second sphere, this one a dark, decaying green, formed instantly and flew to meet its blue counterpart.
The two balls of light collided.
Toma had already forgotten Cabe’s sphere, assuming that his counterspell had eradicated it. His gaze had already returned to Cabe when the dragon became aware that, instead of dissipating the moment it had touched its emerald counterpart, the blue sphere had exploded into a thousand fragments. A thousand fragments that continued on toward their intended target with no loss of velocity.
Skilled as he was, it took the dragon little effort to strengthen his shield, but Cabe’s spell was stronger in intensity than anything Toma had yet faced. Most of the glittering fragments faded as they met the magical wall, but several burst through.
Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III Page 74