The lord of the City of Knowledge gave him a stony stare. “Come with me.”
It was hardly the response Cabe had expected. The Gryphon of all people should have appreciated the horror Cabe had revealed. The wizard had even awaited the barrage of questions concerning how Cabe could be so certain of such an impossible thing.
Yet, all the Gryphon did was gesture for Cabe to follow him out of the war room. The two walked without another word down one of the great marble corridors where Cabe knew his grandfather had once also walked.
Cabe thought that they would go to the chamber where the tapestry that allowed entrance to the great libraries of Penacles, but the Gryphon passed by without even a glance. Instead, he headed toward one of the many extra rooms that had been converted to living quarters since the Gryphon had returned from the eastern continent with a bride and children. Although every bit the warrior her husband was, the feline Troia had also had a sense of decorum occasionally lacking in her husband.
Two human guards in breastplates and curved helmets stood at attention at one oak door that, like the rest, still bore the dragon insignia marking the previous master of Penacles. The men saluted as the Gryphon neared.
“At ease. Is my wife inside?”
“She checked on Mistress Hala but a few minutes ago,” answered the senior of the guards. “At her command, Captain Vaylon now watches over the enchantress.”
“’Hala’?” Cabe muttered. “What’s become of her?”
At a nod from their liege, the senior guard opened the door. The wizard and his host entered a neat if not overly-decorated room suitable for most guests. A small, round maple table with two matching chairs stood to one side, but Cabe cared only for the plush featherbed...or rather the prone body lying in it.
As was with most spellcasters, Hala looked as young as when Cabe had first met her several years ago. At that time, she had been one of several promising spellcasters ensorcelled by the mad drake Sssorak, who had come to believe himself his long-dead master and tormentor, the wizard Tragaro. Of those of Sssorak’s victims who had survived, Hala had been one of the most skilled. Eventually, Cabe and Gwen had offered her a future teaching the next generation.
Captain Vaylon stood at attention as the two entered.
“At ease, captain. Any change?”
“None, my lord.”
Cabe felt a pang of regret as he approached Hala. After what she had been through with Sssorak, he had hoped that her life would be a quiet one. Now, something had happened to her that had made the Gryphon go through these special precautions.
“When I sensed you wake, I summoned some witnesses to the event,” the lionbird muttered. “They should be here momentarily...careful.”
The last was an abrupt warning to Cabe, who had just begun to reach toward Hala. At first, the mage could see no reason why.
“Slowly,” suggested the Gryphon. “Just let your hand hover about half a foot above her head.”
Cabe did as he bade.
A hint of ice --- no, frost --- formed over Hala’s forehead. At the same time, Cabe felt a slight draining of his energy.
Frowning, he fought back. The brief sense of exhaustion faded, as did the frost. Gritting his teeth, Cabe heightened is senses. A white aura suddenly surrounded Hala. He described it to the Gryphon.
“Not something I’ve sensed,” Cabe’s host replied. “I thought I’d rid her of whatever caused her trouble, but then the frost kept returning whenever anyone with magical abilities tried to touch her.”
“It’s bound...it touches deep into her spirit. Let me see what I can do.”
The wizard followed the aura’s trace, finding at last where it began. The level of intrusion disturbed him. This had been no primitive force; this had been created by some sophisticated force, a spellcaster of tremendous skill.
With growing disgust, Cabe Bedlam banished the foul spell. The aura faded away.
Hala let out a slight gasp, then smiled slightly in her sleep.
“She should recover now,” he told the Gryphon. “Give her a couple of days, though.”
There was a short knock on the door. Hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword, Captain Vaylon went to answer the door.
The senior guard whispered something to the officer. Nodding, Vaylon pulled the door open more.
Three figures entered.
“These three students were near Mistress Hala when it happened, Cabe,” the lord of Penacles explained.
At mention of the wizard’s name, the trio gaped. Being new, they had not yet met Cabe, but they had certainly heard of him.
One of the males was the first to find his voice, although his comment proved not to be to the senior mage. “Will Mistress Hala be all right, your majesty?”
“Yes, Logan. Master Bedlam has seen to it now.”
The students looked relieved. Cabe knew that Hala had become a favorite, her aptitude in magic matched by her engaging personality.
He eyed the three. “I want each of you to tell me what happened. Try to recall all.”
They did a better than fair task, but Cabe heard nothing that helped explain. He thanked them for their information. The Gryphon dismissed the students, then looked to Cabe.
“This is Toma’s work, is it not?”
Cabe started to answer, then stopped. As much as it seemed obvious that the frost spell cast upon Hala had to be connected to the dead drake’s return as a reaper wyrm, Cabe could just not acknowledge such a link. For reasons he could not explain, he felt certain that what had attacked the enchantress had a different origin.
“Perhaps,” he finally answered.
The lord of Penacles made a clacking sound with his beak. “What else happened to you? What do I not know yet?”
Cabe said nothing.
The Gryphon finally understood. “Captain Vaylon, you are dismissed.”
“Yes, my lord.” Ever the good soldier, Vaylon gave his master a crisp salute, then quickly left them.
The moment that they were alone, the Gryphon crossed his arms. “Well? What else must we fear?”
“Perhaps...the Lords of the Dead.”
The lionbird’s mane stiffened. “They are no more. Your daughter swore that. Shade I might not believe, but Valea, yes. What makes you believe that those foul necromancers still exist?”
“I don’t know if it’s all of them, but it may be a few or even just one...which would still be too many.”
“This does not strike me as their way.”
“No, I suppose not. Still, I feel that what happened to Hala was not the work of Toma or the Aramites. This was by some other force with intentions of its own I can’t fathom just yet. I ---”
Master Bedlam.
The Gryphon noted his reaction, but said nothing. Cabe concentrated. King Melicard?
Master Bedlam...at last I reach you. we must speak. In person.
“Now?” the wizard muttered.
If possible. It concerns Kyl. I would prefer to say no more.
The king broke the link. The wizard cleared his thoughts, then said, “Melicard wants me to come to Talak. Now. It concerns Kyl.”
“You trust that his message can be trusted? Talak is at the edge of this madness.”
“What choice do we have? We have wolf raiders to the north, Toma returned as a reaper wyrm, and no contact with Kivan Grath whatsoever...and all in such a short space of time.”
“Yes.” Again, the Gryphon rubbed the underside of his beak in thought. “Someone has gone into a lot of planning, have they not? Someone with familiarity with the Dragonrealm, but who is also either an Aramite or allied with them.” He clacked his beak. “We never found Orril D’Marr’s body when the Quel stole him from his cell below. They supposedly wanted his head after their pact with him fell apart...but if anyone could talk his way out of torture and execution it would be him. Damn him.”
“Orril D’Marr.” If what you say is true, Gryph, it seems all our pasts are coming back to haunt us at the same time.”
/>
“It may not be D’Marr...but I would not bet my life on it.” The lord of Penacles flexed his claws. “Damn him...”
Cabe wisely kept silent. The death of the Gryphon’s oldest child at the wolf raider’s hand years ago remained fresh with the lionbird. As proud and loving as he was of his other sons, Demion had been his first. Demion had been brutally slain by Orril D’Marr even as the bulk of the Aramite Empire had crumbled against the rebellion guided by the Gryphon.
“Sometimes, especially of late, I think I feel his presence, Cabe. My first son. He wanted so much to emulate me, so much to go charging into battle. I thought I left him safe, but I only guaranteed his death.”
“You cannot blame yourself for D’Marr’s evil, Gryph.”
The lionbird grunted. “Oh, I do not blame myself for that! Orril D’Marr was truly a son of the Ravager, their would-be god.”
Cabe put a comforting hand on his friend’s arm. “We will put a stop to whatever’s happening...which means I need to try to reach Talak, even with the danger that Toma might be waiting just for that.”
“I have given that some thought. If I support your travel spell with my own power, I should be able protect your shift from here to the mountain kingdom, even if, as you suggested, what happened to Mistress Hala might be the work of surviving Lords.”
“I’ve given it a bit more thought,” the wizard returned. “The Lords of the Dead wouldn’t be so insane as to allow Toma such power. If, as Valea said, they are no more, then maybe their destruction allowed whatever part of Toma they’d collected to escape.”
“I do not know if I like that answer any better.”
“Nor do I.” Cabe exhaled. “Perhaps Talak holds an answer to some of this. I am prepared to cast if you are.”
“By all means. Our enemies, whoever they may be, have moved with astonishing swiftness. We would be wise to match them if we can.”
The pair faced one another. Cabe concentrated, focusing on the chamber where Melicard kept the communication device. It was not difficult to picture the king himself, so distinctive was he.
“The moment you cast, I will see that your spell is protected from any outside interference. You should reach Talak safely.”
“You don’t have to convince me to trust in you, Gryph.” The mage began his spell.
As he did, he sensed the Gryphon link to his effort. Penacles and the lionbird faded away.
The chamber in Talak formed.
Cabe exhaled as he completed his journey. He felt his bond with the Gryphon fade. Despite their concerns, there had been no attempt to intercept the spell.
Melicard stood before him, the king patiently waiting with arms crossed.
“Your majesty! I came as quickly ---”
Melicard did not move...did not even breathe.
Cabe swore, a defensive spell in progress. He spun around, now aware of the fact that there was a third presence in the chamber, a presence already casting a spell of its own.
“Oh!” exclaimed a young, feminine voice. “Oh, it’s you!”
Princess Lynnette confronted the wizard. Princess Lynnette surrounded by a silver aura emanating from within her.
Princess Lynnette apparently wielding power far, far greater than Cabe knew her capable of doing...and the same power he realized had been used to freeze her father where he was.
XIII
Ghosts of Talak
Lynnette had shown some signs of inheriting her mother’s aptitude for magic, but nothing Cabe had seen or heard of concerning the princess of late had given any indication of an abrupt blossoming of such abilities. Even had such a transformation taken place, the wizard doubted that Lynnette, for all her calm nature, would have been quite so adept at her spellwork. New and untrained spellcasters often had less than perfect control over their results, sometimes with near-catastrophic results.
But there stood Erini’s daughter, surrounded by forces her mother had taken years to learn to control expertly. Slight of form and favoring her mother’s bloodline, the blond princess hardly reached the wizard’s shoulder, but clearly had begun the turn to adulthood. Still, Cabe thought she had much too much a serious expression for so young a person.
“Lynnette...what have you done to your father?”
“I had to!” Her blue eye widened. “He started acting very strangely a short time ago...and then I saw him walking through the palace as if he had never seen it before! I followed and found him using the device you gave him in case we needed help!”
The princess darted by him. Cabe noted how she moved around fairly lithely considering the wide skirt and heels she wore. Melicard had tried to teach his daughter as much as he could about the ways of Gordag-Ai in homage to his late wife...and possibly to send her there should Talak prove too unsafe. It now gave her a fairylike quality as she quietly went to her father.
Gently putting a hand to her father’s real cheek, Lynnette murmured, “I was so happy to see him out of the lower levels, but when he acted so strangely, I felt compelled to act.”
She was taking her powers in stride, something that did not sit well with Cabe. It had not been that long since he had heard of her progress. She looked too comfortable for what the wizard would have expected.
“You should probably release him, princess. I’ll make certain nothing happens.”
“Are you certain?”
“Of course.” Cabe knew that he could probably have removed her spell himself, but he wanted see Lynnette at work. The wizard also wanted to be prepared should Melicard not actually act as Melicard. With Toma possessing the remains of his sire and other hints of ghosts growing more prevalent, the wizard knew that he had to be prepared for anything.
Lynnette scrunched up her nose in a fashion Cabe recalled her mother doing on occasion. He sensed her reach out with her mind to probe her own spell. Her work was slow by his standards, but still revealed great skill. Cabe readied himself as the princess unraveled her earlier efforts.
Melicard blinked. “What?”
Cabe nodded. “Your majesty. How do you feel?”
The king hesitated. “Fine. What’re you doing here? What happened to me?”
“I’m sorry, Father,” Lynnette piped up. “You...you were acting oddly. I felt I had to stop you.”
“And then you summoned the wizard here?” Melicard frowned, his expression somehow reminding Cabe of an angry cat. “Why do that?”
“She didn’t. You did. It was fortuitous. I needed to reach you as well, to discuss everything happening in the north.”
“Yes, the north.” The disfigured king toyed with the dagger he wore at his side. “Terrible trouble up there.” His gaze narrowed. “But this is hardly the place to speak of the north. We should go to the palace library.”
“But Father, you know the library is in repair. The wall ---”
“Of course, of course.” Melicard looked annoyed. “You run on, my daughter. I need to speak to the wizard alone. Go!”
Lynnette looked crestfallen at her parent’s clear frustration with her. “Yes, Father.”
The princess curtsied, then left. Melicard indicated the doorway through which she went. “Please, wizard. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Very well.” Cabe turned from his companion.
Beware...warned a voice in the wizard’s head. The same voice he had heard before.
The warning was unnecessary, though. The dagger came hard at his back, just as he had expected. It managed to penetrate the weakest of his defenses, the melted as it reached the stronger ones.
Cabe spun on Melicard...or rather the creature that possessed the king. The wizard had sensed something amiss and with all that had been going on had suspected an otherworldly force.
“Who are you?” he calmly asked.
“The dagger should’ve cut through!” snarled ‘Melicard’. “It should’ve!”
“Who are you?” Cabe repeated. “Or rather, who were you?”
“I had it set aside just for you all those y
ears ago,” the false king said as he backed up. “Lord Silver said it was attuned to your spells!”
“’Lord Silver’?” The wizard gaped. He eyed the feline cast to Melicard’s expression. An old memory resurrected itself. “Mal Quorin...”
“I was promised the king’s body if I killed you...promised all he had! She wouldn’t dare touch her precious hero! She ---”
‘Melicard’ --- or rather the ghost of his long-dead treacherous servant --- abruptly shrieked as if in agony. Mal Quorin had actually sworn his allegiance to the Silver Dragon, who had coveted Talak in his pursuit of power after the death of the Dragon Emperor. Quorin had perished along with his true master thanks in tremendous part to the efforts of Shade.
That this specter among others would return did not entirely shock the mage, but the pain Mal Quorin was evidently now suffering did. The ghost continued to shriek.
“I said nothing wrong!” Quorin roared to the ceiling. “I did not break the pact ---”
‘Melicard’ doubled over. As he did, a yellowish haze arose from the stricken monarch, a haze Cabe knew visible only to a spellcaster such as himself.
The haze rose higher, finally separating from Melicard. As that happened, the shriek cut off.
Concentrating, Cabe created a sphere of silver energy around the floating haze. He had dealt with the undead in the past and even a ghost or two and thus had long ago devised spells that should have been effective against them. The sphere would keep the haze that was Mal Quorin’s spirit prisoner...and from whatever force had sent it in the first place. Cabe needed to find out what Mal Quorin knew.
But the haze seeped through his creation without pause. Worse, it quickly began to dissipate. All the while, Cabe could feel the ghost’s ever-increasing torture.
And then...just like that...the ghost of Mal Quorin ceased to be.
Melicard remained doubled over, the king now also swaying back and forth. Cabe rushed forward and seized the larger man before he could fall.
Melicard managed to raise his head enough to meet the spellcaster’s gaze.
The Dragon Throne: Knights of the Frost Pt. II (Legends of the Dragonrealm) Page 6