The Dragon Throne_Knights of the Frost Pt. I

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The Dragon Throne_Knights of the Frost Pt. I Page 9

by Richard A. Knaak


  The most likely choices would have been the Lord of the Dead, the self-styled gods who had actually been Vraad necromancers. Yet, they were no more and Shade could not think of anyone with their power who still survived.

  “It does not smell like Vraad magic, but I will continue to follow that trail as well.”

  She grimaced. “We should speak with my father.”

  Shade shook his head. “He will not speak with your brother, who is only in love with a half-breed. You know very well what he thinks of your descent into depravity with me.”

  “Oh, Gerrod...” Valea was the only one who consistently called him by the name. Once, it had been his true name, when he had been the least favored son of the most powerful of Vraad, Lord Barakas Tezerenee. It was a name he had been happy to forget for most of his sorry existence, but now he actually found favor with it again...but only because of her.

  “When we know more...then we can perhaps send you to tell all to your parents. For now...for now there is one other place I would go.”

  The enchantress lost all good humor. “No. Not there.”

  “It is the most obvious choice. We cannot venture into the Northern Wastes nor the very heart of the chain.”

  “But even the eastern edge of the Tybers is too dangerous at any time, much less now with this subtle veil touching all but the very border.”

  “I know full well where I will go. I will stay but a few minutes. There, I should be able to make enough sense of matters. It is very clear that your parents and the others must not yet understand what has happened, or else we would sense their activity. I must go ---”

  He stopped as Cabe Bedlam’s daughter gave him a look that likely would have cowed most into full submission. He could also sense her gathering power around her.

  “I won’t let you go. Certainly not alone. I’ll keep you from going if I have to make a statue out of you until you see sense!” It was no wild threat. The enchantress would seek to bind him to the spot rather than let him proceed to a dangerous location like the Wastes.

  “Calm yourself,” he quickly murmured. “It was a suggestion, nothing more.”

  “’Nothing more’.” She did not cease her summoning. “I know you better than that ---”

  Her eyes widened. She stared past Shade, then immediately grabbed him.

  Their surroundings shifted as she tore them from the hilly region to a long, winding plain. The ease with which Valea cast the spell again pointed out her legacy. The daughter of Cabe Bedlam and the Lady of the Amber was one of the most powerful spellcasters in all the Dragonrealm, not at all a surprise.

  What was a surprise was the psychic shock that went through him a moment after. The force of it sent him to one knee. Matters were made worse by the fact that he saw Valea suffering the same.

  Shade forced his head up...to find creatures both familiar and yet not surrounding them.

  That they were Seekers, the avian former masters of the continent before the coming of the Dragon Kings, was evident, but never could the warlock recall --- as much as he could recall anything with his pockmarked memory --- Seekers with such white, thick plumage. They also had shorter, more hooked beaks and larger eyes Shade felt more suited for the dark.

  In the taloned hands of two of the creatures lay small, glass spheres in which what seemed snowstorms in miniature raged. The one nearest Shade held its sphere closer...and the psychic shock coursing through him more than trebled.

  “What --- do --- you --- want?” he snarled. It did not matter to him anymore that these Seekers were clearly strangers to this region, strangers perhaps to most of the Dragonrealm. What did matter was that they not only threatened him, but, more importantly, Valea.

  The Seeker farther back shook its sphere.

  Valea faded away before Shade’s horrified eyes. The next second, she reappeared inside the sphere.

  Fighting against the pain, the warlock struck back. The Seeker let out a shriek as the bottom of the sphere glowed red hot. Inside, Valea showed no discomfort, only frustration at her capture. Shade had made certain that his attack had been focused only in one direction, the Seeker’s palm.

  As the sphere slipped free, he cast again. Valea and her prison vanished.

  If he himself had not been able to feel his curse overtaking him again, the abrupt movements by several of the avians would have been enough to acknowledge the transformation. A few Seekers showed clear signs of fear at his murky features, they likely well aware of the dark legends concerning him.

  The Seeker wielding the first sphere proved unperturbed. He shook the sphere.

  Shade felt as if his body was scattering in a thousand different directions. Had he not known better, he would have thought he was about to die.

  A moment later, he stood within the sphere. Around him, what had appeared to be a tiny snowstorm proved in fact to be thousands of minute bits of magical energy. Within the sphere, he could now detect the complex patterns they constantly made with their movement, patterns that were the key to the sphere’s functioning.

  A deep, slow sound echoed in his ears. It took him a second to realize that he was hearing his captor speak to the others. What the lead Seeker said was beyond his ken, but he suspect he knew the gist of most of it. There was anger at the loss of Valea, but determination that their other prisoner would still be of use in whatever they planned.

  The warlock exhaled in relief. Valea was out of danger. He had cast her to the safest place of which he could think. If anyone could free her, he knew, it would be her father and mother. She would be angry, but sending her away rather than merely breaking her free among the Seekers had been the best choice left to him.

  As for Shade himself, he felt certain that, unlike the enchantress, that his powers would enable him to escape. Everything he sensed about the sphere indicated it worked against normal magic, not the ancient legacy of his fallen race. He decided to bide his time, though, curious what would bring these mysterious Seekers to hunt both him and Valea.

  His surroundings shook as the avian raised the sphere to its eyes. The leader was a female, Shade belatedly noted, the full plumage obscuring most of that fact. That marked a difference from the Seekers with which he was familiar. Females controlled the nests, while males led the hunts.

  Apparently satisfied with how Shade was held, the Seeker squawked something. Rather than taking flight, the avians formed a circle, then shut their eyes. Even inside the sphere, Shade could sense the buildup of power between them.

  The landscape disappeared. A vast whiteness that Shade at first took for the empty dimension called the Void surrounded his captors. However, after a moment, a few vague landmarks identified where he was as somewhere still a part of the Dragonrealm.

  The Northern Wastes.

  The revelation did not at all surprise the warlock. He had analyzed the physical appearance of these mysterious Seekers and the fact that he could not recall them meant that they likely originated from an obscure region...and what was more obscure than the Northern Wastes. Already a desolate land, the reign of Clan Ice had kept it an even greater enigma. In some ways, the realm was even an bigger unknown than the Legar Peninsula.

  No, the fact that he was in the Northern Wastes did not surprise Shade at all nor did the exact location where the creatures stood, either. It did surprise that he had not seen any trace of them during his previous visit here, but, then, these Seekers clearly knew the value of keeping out of sight of others.

  The female Seeker held the sphere forward, giving the warlock a good view of what was left of the Ice Dragon’s sanctum.

  When last he had been here, just enough remnants of the dead drake lord’s power had survived to animate some of the Ice Dragon’s undead servants. Shade had stayed only long enough to fulfill his mission, then had departed. However, if the threat of the undead remained, it was not one that perturbed the Seekers. They entered the ruined entrance as if lords of the realm themselves. A slight constant tinkling sound which Shade took to be
cracking ice reminded the warlock that even the landscape itself offered danger. Sooner or later, the roof of the cavern would simply cave in, finishing what was left of the dead dragon’s former kingdom.

  Darkness greeted the intruders, a darkness quickly eliminated by a sweep of the female’s hand. Instantly, small particles like those in the sphere spread throughout the chamber...and revealed an astounding change from the warlock’s previous incursion.

  A gaping hole welcomed the party and its captives, a hole that had not been caused by the ground below sinking in...but rather by something huge bursting out.

  To his surprise, his cell abruptly shook. The same sense of scattering overtook him again...and then he stood among the Seekers.

  Some of them still eyed him with trepidation, but the leader did not. Instead, from her other hand, she produced a small, oval object.

  Although those around him could not see it, Shade’s eyes widened. He knew his own script, but more, he knew his own magical trace. He had created this stone object, although in what lifetime, he could not say. The warlock understood much more now.

  “So, I gave your people this to use to find me when they had no other choice...and I know that all Seekers would rather find another choice before they turn to me.”

  The female cocked her head. Shade took that as acknowledgment. Seekers could understand the common tongue, but could not --- or perhaps chose not --- to find a way to speak it. After all, they had been masters of the land before either the Dragon Kings or humans had come along. Indeed, even before Shade had come into existence.

  Yet, still this group with whom one or more of his previous incarnations had interacted had finally sought his help. At first glance, though, the warlock could not see the immediate reason unless whatever had burst out of the hole still rampaged around the region. Clearly these Seekers were from a flock that had long existed in the Wastes despite the drake lords.

  The female shut her hand. As she did, the others gave way for her and Shade. The warlock walked beside his former captor as she strode toward the gaping hole.

  At the edge, Shade noted more proof that this had to be in great part what concerned the avians. There were clear gouges in the frozen ground below, gouges that indicated a beast of not only monstrous size, but tremendous power even taking that size in consideration.

  His heightened senses picked up on slight traces of magical residue. The warlock stiffened. The traces conflicted with one another, but among them he sensed one that could only have come from one of the most powerful drake lords...and not the one whose lair this had once been. No, these were traces of a dragon even stronger, which could only mean to Shade ---

  He gasped as an immense weariness overtook him. At first, the warlock thought that his companions sought to betray him, but then Shade found the Seekers suffering as well, perhaps even more. Two were already on their knees, while others struggled to keep standing.

  From the leader’s eyes it was evident that this was not something that she had expected. She made a gesture which Shade felt to be the start of a spell, but the spell faltered.

  No, not faltered, Shade corrected himself even as he fought against the unnatural exhaustion. The magic was drained away...just as mine still is!

  The constant tinkling in the background suddenly became a loud torrent. At the same time, Shade felt a stirring of other magics...and some foulness that vied with the ancient might of a Vraad.

  Next to him, the female reacted. She squawked to the others, who as quickly as they could formed a new circle.

  By then, though, Shade knew that it was already too late. He spun around toward where the torrent sounded loudest...and where he now beheld bits of ice swiftly gathering into one gargantuan and horrifyingly familiar form.

  The dragon of ice reared, its half-completed head nearly touching the ceiling. Curiously, that made the warlock think about the fact that whatever had earlier dug itself out of the ground had then merely slipped out of the cavern through the much-reduced entrance.

  The Seekers combined to cast another spell. Shade saw that they hoped to halt the flow of ice toward the giant, but, if anything, the flow only increased.

  “We’re only adding to its strength!” he shouted to the others.

  Unfortunately, as he warned them, another wave of exhaustion hit him. Shade understood then that it was his unique power more than any other that had allowed this creature to recreate itself.

  Yes, recreate itself. As now even the warlock fought to keep his legs from buckling, he finally recognized this monster for what it was. Not merely a dragon of ice, as he had first thought...but the long dead lord of the Northern Wastes.

  The Ice Dragon himself.

  To Be Continued

  in

  Part II

  Out March 1st, 2016!

  About the Author

  Richard A. Knaak is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of The Legend of Huma, WoW: Wolfheart, and nearly fifty other novels and numerous short stories, including works in such series as Warcraft, Diablo, Dragonlance, Age of Conan, and his own Dragonrealm. He has scripted a number of Warcraft manga with Tokyopop, such as the top-selling Sunwell trilogy, and has also written background material for games. His works have been published worldwide in many languages.

  In addition to The Horned Blade --- the final novel in The Turning War --- his most recent releases include Shade --- a brand-new Dragonrealm novel featuring the tragic sorcerer --- Dawn of the Aspects --- the latest in the bestselling World of Warcraft series, and the fourth collection in his Legends of the Dragonrealm series. Besides Knights of the Frost, he is presently at work on several other projects, among them a new Pathfinder novel, a sequel to the novel Dragon Mound. March 2016 will see the release of the urban fantasy Black City Saint, which he hopes all his readers will check out.

  Currently splitting his time between Chicago and Arkansas, he can be reached through his website: http://www.richardaknaak.com, where more information on this trilogy can be found. While he is unable to respond to every e-mail, he does read them. Join his mailing list for e-announcements of upcoming releases and appearances. Please also join him on Facebook and Twitter.

 

 

 


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