And, seconds later, it seemed Aurim’s fears proved well-grounded. From atop one of the two peaks flanking the largest, a huge, gray dragon took to the sky. It required little imagination to figure out exactly where the behemoth headed.
As the dragon approached, Aurim readied a spell. Yet, before he could cast it, the hooded warlock waved his hand in a circular motion.
Without hesitation, the dragon suddenly veered upward, passing by the two without noticing them. The behemoth continued on, disappearing into the black clouds.
“Be prepared,” Shade told him calmly, as if the threat that they had just faced had not existed. “We land in moments.”
With astonishing grace considering its fleshless condition, the Necri skeleton delicately deposited them feet first on the rocky ground. The moment it had done so, the batlike creature collapsed into a cluttered pile, the magically created bones vanishing even as they dropped. The skull rolled a few feet away, then clattered to a halt. The eye holes seemed to stare resentfully at the pair.
“Come,” Shade urged a still-staring Aurim.
A flash of lightning illuminated the area as they came within sight of the lair. The dragon might have left, but that did not mean that the way was unguarded. Along the side of the mountain, armed sentinels watched from various points. Most wore the broad-rimmed armor of Wenslis, but Aurim noted a few drake warriors among them, no doubt the commanders. Drakes were not so numerous as humans and so Dragon Kings often had to make use of the very race that they distrusted most.
But Shade continued on as if entirely unconcerned about the guards. Aurim had no choice but to follow and hope that his disconcerting associate knew what he did.
Two human soldiers thrust out their spears in what at first appeared warning to the newcomers. Yet, as Aurim watched, the guards separated, their gazes sweeping warily over the vicinity and not once fixing on the duo. One guard came within arm’s reach of the wizard, his bearded, scarred face as brutal as that of a drake. The wide brim of his helmet kept most of the rain from his eyes, but still he did not notice the blond figure so near.
Without a word, Shade and Aurim walked past the soldiers, ascending the path to the lair.
The way up was both the longest and shortest trek that Aurim Bedlam had ever taken. Each step he expected either a horde of guards, a dragon, or, worst of all, the Storm Lord, to fall upon them. Yet, at the same time, he moved with impatience, knowing that within he would find Yssa.
At the mouth of the cave system, Shade for the first time paused.
“He is within,” the hood announced with a turn to the left.
“Of course,” he replied to himself with a look to the right.
Aurim prepared himself. He, too, could sense the overwhelming force that was the Dragon King. If he had to face the Storm Lord to rescue Yssa, then so be it. His father had confronted the dread Toma, a far worse dragon than any, and had emerged victorious. Aurim was well aware that, if he kept his focus, his abilities had the potential to dwarf even those of his father. With Shade beside him, surely even this Dragon King would fall.
They continued past unsuspecting guards and even the grotesque, bestial lesser drakes, cousins of the dragons whom the latter used as mounts when in their warrior forms. The lesser drakes sniffed the air as they passed, but even the beasts did not truly realize their presence.
Deeper and deeper into the cavern system they went. The protection spell that Shade had surrounded them with had enabled them to see despite the storm and now it worked against the darkness of the lair. Aurim’s confidence grew as they walked. No threat had so far reared its ugly head. Perhaps with the warlock so near, even the Dragon King would not notice them.
Then, without warning, they stepped into what could only be the Storm Lord’s sanctum. The chamber was the largest and well-adapted for the movements of a full-grown dragon. The walls were of a peculiar onyx within which miniature storms raged. At the far end, a huge dais consisting of three great steps led up to a magnificently carved if oddly damaged throne.
Then Aurim sensed another presence, one whose nearness so startled him that he quickly looked around the vast chamber. To the side he eventually noticed what at first he took for a statue . . . until he saw who it resembled.
“Mother?” For the moment, all thought of Yssa fell to the wayside as Aurim rushed toward the figure. Surely he was overreacting; surely there was a good reason why the Storm Lord would have a statue of his mother here.
But as he approached, the wizard more and more sensed her so-familiar presence. He could have mistaken it no more than he could have his own.
“By the Manor!” Aurim gasped, putting a hand to her cheek and discovering only then that it was made of ice . . . rapidly melting ice.
And as it melted, so, too, would his mother.
She still lived, that much the wizard could feel, but for how long, he could not say. Aurim immediately began delving into the spellwork, seeking a way of unbinding it quickly. The casting had been done in a manner not at all like he had been taught and yet it had a familiar feel. Almost it reminded him of-of Yssa?
He tried not to think about why she would do such a horrific thing to his mother, whom he knew Yssa respected greatly and wished would come to accept their pairing. Instead, Aurim continued to search for the point of focus, the place where he could make the entire spell unravel.
So caught up was he in his task that he at first did not notice that someone watched him from another shadowed corner of the cavern. Only when the stare finally burned into him did Aurim gaze up to discover a figure literally perched on the wall.
A figure that was none other than Shade.
Aurim quickly glanced over his shoulder . . . and saw his companion just turning to look at him.
The hooded immediately shifted, tipping to the right as the warlock clearly looked past the young wizard . . . and at himself.
There were two Shades?
“We expected you,” said the one who had accompanied Aurim. “We felt you.”
“I sensed you in turn,” remarked the figure on the wall with the same bland tone. The hood shifted so as to eye Aurim again. “She’s mine.”
“And he’s ours . . .” said the wizard’s Shade. “He knows us. He can make us whole, make us the original . . .”
“She could do the same for me,” the other replied. “But I got curious as to what it would be like to feel her emotions as her life melted away.”
Aurim’s expression darkened. “That’s monstrous!”
“Is it? I suppose it is . . .” The Shade on the wall rubbed his indistinct chin in thought, then nodded almost eagerly. “Yes! You’re right! Monstrous! I’ve chosen, then!”
“Not fair!” snarled Aurim’s Shade without warning. With a tilt of his head to the right, he added, “Not fair at all! We want to be the original!”
“But I’m ahead in the game! I’ve chosen the path! All I need is a name now . . .”
As fearful as he was about losing his mother, Aurim could not help but listen to the rantings of the pair, especially the one on the wall. He knew enough about the legend of the warlock to understand what it meant if this one chose a name.
It mean that the second Shade also knew whether he followed darkness or light.
“I have it . . .” The Shade on the wall spread his cloak wide. He literally stood on the onyx as if it were the floor. With a voice full of triumph and glee, he declared, “Call me Valac . . . this time . . .”
And without warning, without reason-but with only the flick of a finger-he created a ring of flame around Aurim’s mother.
With a cry, the wizard fell back. Smoke rose from his garments and his right hand stung. He saw a covering of moisture form over his mother and droplets of water fell to the floor.
“No!” Powered by his emotions, a fierce wind blew over the fire, dousing it completely. Aurim seized his mother before her slippery figure could topple over. He looked up at the Shade on the wall, prepared to deflect wha
tever barbaric attack this newly evil figure next cast.
But there stood another between them. The first Shade faced himself, the two reminding Aurim in some way like a pair of children bickering over who was most favored.
“We want your name! Give it to us!”
“No! It’s mine!” retorted the one above. “I’m whole now . . . I’m Shade!”
“No! We are! We deserve it! We make our choice . . . we’ll help them! Be their friends!”
“You’ve no name, though! I’ve a name! I’m Valac!”
Time was running out for Aurim’s mother, but he dared not focus on her. He watched his own Shade, who seemed to hesitate each time the other shouted his new name.
His name . . .
Aurim ran through his memory, picked the first name that came to mind. “I’ve got a better name for you!”
His Shade looked back at him. “A name? A better one?”
“Nathan.”
“Nathan . . .” For just a moment, the face almost-but not quite-came into focus as the hooded figure tasted Aurim’s choice. “Nathan . . .”
“You know the name. You know the strength of it.”
“We-I-remember Nathan . . .” Shade seemed to swell. He faced his other self, who now retreated back somewhat under the sudden change in his counterpart. “Call me Nathan,” he told the one on the wall. “This time . . .”
Well aware that the original Shade had known his great-grandfather, had even fought alongside him against the Dragon Kings during the Turning War, Aurim had gifted his Shade with the use of that name. He had counted on the hooded warlock to recall what Nathan had stood for and take that to heart.
Where one Shade had chosen evil, he hoped the latter would stay securely with good.
“No!” roared Valac. “I’m Shade! I’m the original! I chose first!”
Nathan stepped toward him. “I chose better . . . and I will protect my friends!”
Raw energy swirled around both cloaked forms. Aurim pulled his mother away from the pair. He delved back into the spell keeping her frozen and, perhaps because he now no longer had to concern himself with the Shades’ argument, found the key.
His own spell acted instantaneously. His mother’s body heated up and the layer of ice surrounding her melted in one quick rush that left a puddle on the stone floor. Gwen gasped and slumped in his arms, her hair clinging to her head.
She coughed twice, then managed to look up at him. “A-Aurim . . .”
“Easy, Mother! It’s all right . . .”
“No . . . Aurim . . . Yssa-”
He steeled himself. “I don’t know why she did this to you, but-”
“No!” Gwen shook her head. “Listen! The Storm Dragon is responsible! She couldn’t help herself!”
As relieved as Aurim was to hear that, he could not concern himself with it now. Despite her attempts to look stronger, Aurim could tell that she could barely stand, much less cast a spell. It would be up to him to lead them from this place.
Then . . . then he could come back for Yssa.
But his mother seemed to read his thoughts. “Forget me, Aurim! I’ll be fine! Go after Yssa! She’s with him . . . and . . . and Aurim . . . there’s something wrong . . . he’s hiding a secret, I think . . .”
Aurim swallowed, barely hearing the rest of what Gwen had said. The Storm Lord had Yssa. Aurim stood there, torn between two courses of action. His mother needed him-but so, clearly, did the woman he loved.
Just then, a fearsome burst of golden energy sent Aurim and his mother rolling away. The two Shades had finally attacked one another. They stood outlined within that terrible burst, neither seeming at all affected by the awesome forces unleashed.
“What’s happening?” Gwen managed, at last staring at the identical figures. “There are-there are two of him!”
“I don’t know . . . hasn’t this happened?”
“Never! There’s only ever been one Shade . . . and that’s been more than enough . . .”
Whatever the cause for the creation of the two Shades, they clearly had an utter hatred of one another. They tore free pieces of the cavern and tossed them at will at each other. They summoned energy and transformed it into monstrous mouths or slashing blades flying through the air. They cast one vile attack after another, unleashing power that would have slain any other creature a hundred times over.
But not once did either manage so much as a scratch.
Their power was so equal, their minds so identical, that they knew how to defend against each assault before it could cause any harm. The duel took on an almost comic aspect as each fruitlessly sought to slay the other to prove that they were the one and original Shade.
The chamber shook with each successive attack. Aurim wondered how the Dragon King could have possibly not noticed what was happening within his very citadel-and then realized that he surely had.
Which meant that they were all in much, much more danger than they had imagined.
“Mother, do you think that you can cast any sort of spell to shield yourself from danger?”
“I faced the Dragon Kings with your great-grandfather, Aurim. He showed me many tricks. I’ll be fine. You go after her . . . but be careful!”
Aurim nodded. “He has to have been watching us. He must be letting everything play out.”
“I know, Aurim. I’ve been trying to sense him, but he’s kept himself shielded. Be wary, he’s very cunning . . . and . . . and I can’t explain it, but there’s definitely something different about him, almost as if he’s-” she shook her head. “Never mind. Just be careful.”
“Don’t worry, Mother. You just take care of yourself. I’ll hurry.”
“Stay linked to me this time, my son.”
“As you wish.” Aurim stepped away from her. Gwendolyn Bedlam drew a circle over her head. As she did, an emerald shield formed there. The enchantress pointed down with her finger and the shield followed, draping her from head to toe. Once the shield touched the floor, Gwen nodded to her son.
Aurim concentrated. The Dragon King might have shielded his presence, but had he done so for one that the wizard knew almost as good as his own family-and in some ways better?
Yssa . . . where are you?
At first Aurim felt nothing, but then, at the very edge of perception, he noticed a familiar trace. He clung to that trace, focusing his mind on it with all his will.
And then Aurim transported himself to its source. As he materialized, he immediately sensed the inhuman presence of the Dragon King in the shadows behind him. Without hesitation, the wizard cast a potent spell and hurtled it toward the direction he had noted the menace.
“No, Aurim, no!” called a feminine voice near him.
A tremendous force struck him hard. The wizard flew across the darkened chamber, smashing against what could only be one of the rocky walls. Tumbling to the floor, he rolled back to where he had first materialized, his entire body numb from pain.
Soft hands immediately touched his head, his face, and he heard Yssa speaking, but the words did not penetrate.
Yet, the voice of another had no difficulty piercing the fog.
“Welcome, Bedlam. I am pleased you prove yourself predictable. I am pleased that all of you have have acted so predictably.”
It was not the voice he had expected. Forcing his head up, Aurim looked past Yssa to where a fiery light now illuminated the other end of the chamber.
The dragon dwarfed even those that Aurim had seen outside. A huge crest of jagged scale coursed down from his forehead to the tip of his tail. He was of an iridescent gray and silver and his unblinking eyes glowed a bright red, like the setting sun. Teeth taller than the wizard filled a maw capable of devouring a score of Aurims with a single snap.
A dark blue aura crackled around the Storm Lord and even from where he stood the blond spellcaster could sense the powerful forces emanating out from the Dragon King. Every bit of the tempest that covered Wenslis originated from the awesome power of its master.
>
A pedestal as high as the wizard’s waist stood before the leviathan. Upon it, a black onyx crystal as large as Aurim’s throbbing head glowed. In it, he could just make out the two Shades in mortal combat.
Aurim glanced from the crystal back to the Dragon King. He stared defiantly into the drake’s eyes-and only then did he realize that they not only did not stare back, but they seemed empty, unfocused. The Storm Lord appeared utterly lost within himself, almost as if he were in a trance or even dreaming.
“He sleeps,” said the voice that had welcomed him. “I give him his dreams of godhood and he sleeps and savors it while I deal with my own destiny.”
Then Aurim noticed at last the smaller figure standing to the left of the gargantuan dragon, a figure whose mere presence answered much but created a host of new questions as well.
A third Shade . . .
VIII
As her son vanished, Gwen tried desperately to concentrate on the situation. Something was indeed terribly wrong. There was no reason that the Storm Lord would let this struggle go on in his own sanctum unless it served his purpose.
But what?
Something about the Dragon King himself still bothered her. Gwen had faced many of his kind, but now and then this drake lord spoke and acted different. Once in awhile, he sounded less a Dragon King and more-more human?
Gwen’s eyes widened and her troubled gaze returned to the twin figures and their powerful if so far fruitless battle. The enchantress studied them, thought about what they represented-and suddenly a question that held the potential to answer everything reared its monstrous head.
How many more Shades were there?
“Call me Mordryn . . . this time,” the third Shade said with a cursory bow.
Aurim watched the hooded form with narrowed eyes. He sensed a difference in this variation. This Shade was more confident, more complete. He had known for quite some time what course he followed and what name he chose for himself.
“How long?” the wizard asked, gaze flickering to the dragon. The Storm Dragon’s mouth curled up slightly at the end, as if he enjoyed his dream. “How long have you been here?”
Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III Page 86