by Dragon Lance
The kender marveled at this for quite some time before realizing that this was his chance to do something – but what? Galan Dracos no longer floated half-seen above the emerald sphere, either having decided to follow the elf or to return to some otherworldly domain. Either way, it meant that Delbin was completely alone. His only excuse for not attempting something was his own bewilderment. Perhaps if he climbed down and got a better view of the place, he might be able to think of something.
Delbin waited three or four dozen breaths before he decided it was safe to climb out of his hiding place. No human could have fit into the space he had watched from. With ease, he stretched out, got a hold on the wall beneath him, and scurried down like a spider, jumping the last three feet. Where a human would have made noise, he landed as silently as an autumn leaf falling from a tree. Delbin turned around. There were all sorts of neat things that he would have been eager to look over if the situation had been different, but concern for Kaz was paramount.
His eyes focused on the scarred surface of the sphere. Were there eyes there looking back at him? Delbin waited, but no figment of Galan Dracos rose to crush him. It was only a trick of his own mind. During their months together, Kaz had more than once chided the kender for letting his overactive imagination get the best of him. Delbin had never been able to make him understand that an overactive imagination was a normal kender trait.
His eyes trailed back to the emerald sphere. It was the cause of everything, he decided suddenly. Argaen had used it to drive the knights mad – or had the emerald sphere used the elf? Delbin shook his head. That didn’t matter. He knew only that Argaen was planning to use it again, and that Kaz thought a lot more people would get hurt if that happened.
It was what Delbin had to deal with. If he could destroy it – the sphere was too large to fit into his pouch, so he couldn’t just wander off with it – then everything would be wonderful again. People would be happy once more, which was the proper way to be.
How to shatter it, though, was the question. Delbin looked around the room. There were lots of shelves and tables with all sorts of interesting stuff on them. He looked at the spellbooks that Ravenshadow had shoved aside on one table, massive tomes, possibly centuries old. They looked pretty heavy. Maybe one of them would do the trick. There was also the hourglass.
While the kender pondered what would work best, a mist slowly rose from the emerald sphere.
“Why … not … try … the … battle-axe?” a voice like a drawn-out breath whispered mockingly in his ear.
The battle-axe – Kaz’s battle-axe, he realized – was suddenly there next to the table. Delbin caught only a glimpse of the weapon, for he was already turning toward the origin of the voice.
The wraith that was Galan Dracos looked down at him with eyes that made the kender shiver and turn away.
“There is … nowhere … to go … and I have need … of you!”
An invisible hand took hold of Delbin and began to drag him back toward the emerald sphere. He struggled in vain.
“No,” continued Dracos. “I think … I need … you … a little more … pliable.”
A great shock surged through every inch of Delbin’s body and he slumped, but his body was moved by a force other than its own ever nearer to the sphere and its creator.
“Soon … I will be … alive again,” the wraith said to the limp form, “and my mistress … my forgiving … mistress … will at last … rule Krynn!”
Chapter 22
Several dozen tiny black objects went flying toward Kaz and Sardal.
Even as Kaz realized that he was going to take the brunt of the magic thief’s attack, the projectiles faded harmlessly less than two feet from his face.
“You have become what you always thought of our race, Argaen! Much too predictable. Is that the only spell you can perform consistently? Creating those little baubles is a toddler’s trick!”
As Sardal spoke, Kaz noticed a smile creeping onto Ravenshadow’s visage.
The ceiling above the minotaur and his companion collapsed.
Sardal raised his hands in defense, but he was too slow to effectively protect them both. To Kaz’s horror, the elf’s hurried spell stabilized the ceiling above the minotaur, but not above Sardal himself. Great chunks of cut stone rained down upon the elf. Kaz could see that some of the stones were glancing off harmlessly, but enough were still hitting his companion, who had saved his life at least twice now.
All the while, Argaen Ravenshadow laughed insanely. Sardal had underestimated the dark elf. He had always been a magic thief, with little power to call his own. That had changed now, and it looked as if his old friend had become Argaen’s first victim.
Snarling in anger, Kaz turned his gaze on Ravenshadow and charged him. He never made it. Argaen stopped laughing and stared down at the floor before the minotaur’s feet. A gap began to spread across the floor. Kaz leaped over the treacherous chasm, fully intending to land on his adversary.
Stone claws sprouting from both walls caught both his legs and one arm. The sudden stop nearly wrenched one leg out of its socket. Kaz bit back a bitter, painful scream.
Argaen Ravenshadow had decoyed him.
Like a child with a new toy, the dark elf was experimenting with his newfound powers. He twirled one hand before Kaz, remaining just out of reach of the minotaur. Tiny winged serpents fluttered out of the circle he sketched in the air, flitting around Kaz’s face. With his free hand, Kaz tried to swat them away. He was bitten several times in the process and succeeded only in crushing one. They were astonishingly quick, like hummingbirds.
After a minute or two, Ravenshadow tired of this and waved his hand. The winged serpents faded away.
“Once I would have only been able to dream of doing something so extraordinary. My masters said I lacked the aptitude. What they inferred was that there was weakness in my bloodline, that perhaps one of my progenitors had been a human.”
Kaz, who understood what elves could be like, knew what sort of life Argaen must have had. Pure bloodlines were more important to them than to even the Knights of Solamnia.
“Being part human doesn’t necessarily weaken the blood. I’ve met many powerful human sorcerers.”
That produced a smile – a chilling one, but a smile nonetheless. “That is what I believed as well. The rumor was never confirmed, but I chose to study humans anyway and discovered within them a vitality that the elven race lacks.”
“You chose to admire … the wrong aspects of humanity, Argaen,” a familiar voice called out from behind Kaz.
“You still live, Sardal?” the magic thief commented blandly. He took a step closer to Kaz, but his eyes were on the elf behind the minotaur. Kaz eyed the distance separating him from the dark elf. Another two steps and Ravenshadow would be within his reach.
“You still live, Sardal,” Argaen repeated in that same bland tone, “but not for long.”
“More true than … you think, friend.”
Argaen started to take a step forward, but froze in midstep and looked the minotaur square in the eye. Kaz found himself suddenly swung toward one of the walls, one leg temporarily loose. He was slapped against the wall with bone-jarring force. While the minotaur fought to stabilize himself, Ravenshadow walked past him toward the other elf.
“You are dying, aren’t you?” he said at last, his tone odd. Kaz thought he almost detected a slight trace of guilt in the magic thief’s voice.
Ravenshadow stood over Sardal, who lay pinned under several large portions of the ceiling. A gaping hole above indicated just how much stone – more than enough to crush him to pulp – had actually fallen on the elf. Only quick thinking on Sardal’s part had prevented that, but one especially large chunk of stone had slammed into Sardal’s rib cage. It was a wonder he could speak, let alone breathe.
“Argaen … it is still … not too late! No one is … safe around … the forces that Dracos … sought to tap! Even the Dragonqueen … was hesitant!”
“You
think that I cannot control such power?” All guilt was gone from the renegade’s voice. He spat down on the dying figure at his feet. “Even you! Elderly fools! I know more about the workings of magic than all of them combined, including you! While they have been content to play with their powers, I have studied and learned – and now I have access to more power than any of you can imagine!”
“All that power … requires skill.” It was obvious now that Sardal was struggling to stay alive. “You have … have …” He could not finish the sentence.
“Nonsense. I have studied everything I could get my hands on. I know what to do. It is only a matter of proportion.”
“Argaen …” Sardal gasped, his eyes staring.
It took some time before either the dark elf or Kaz realized that Sardal Crystalthorn was dead. The eyes of the battered elf still stared. Ravenshadow muttered something under his breath and bent down beside the body, obscuring it from the minotaur’s eyesight. When he rose and stepped away, Kaz saw that Sardal was no longer there!
The minotaur struggled against the magical hands that held him fast. “What’ve you done with his body? Saving it for another one of your spells?”
The dark elf turned around and gave him a stony stare. “Sardal Crystalthorn will have a proper burial. We might have been adversaries in the end, but I will honor him still.”
Kaz was tempted to say something about his captor’s twisted code of honor, but held back when he looked closer at Ravenshadow’s face. Killing Sardal had taken more out of the dark elf than Argaen might admit.
“At one time, I meant to share what I found with him,” Argaen said quietly. He seemed only marginally aware of the presence of the minotaur. “Sardal was the only one who really tried to help me. I thought he would understand at first.” Ravenshadow looked up at his captive, and his face was abruptly bland once more. “That is neither here nor there, however. Time is extremely precious now, and I cannot afford to deal with you properly. I underestimated your amazing strength, Kaz – my experience with your race is very limited. As it stands, I think I must ask you to accompany me. An old friend has been dying to see you.” The attempt at sardonic humor sounded flat, even to the dark elf. He turned, glanced at the pile of rubble that had killed Sardal, and then stared at the hole in the ceiling.
Without a word and barely a thought, Argaen Ravenshadow gestured toward Kaz.
The minotaur found himself lifted toward the stone ceiling with frightful speed. Just before the tip of his horns hit the ceiling, the ceiling opened. The opening didn’t appear to be like a trapdoor, but rather like a mouth. As he was pushed through to the next floor, Kaz couldn’t help but imagine that he was about to be eaten. The feeling was enhanced by the total darkness into which he was thrust. Something caught him around the waist and legs, and he had a nightmarish thought that these were teeth. The mouth closed, but another one opened above him. Kaz saw that what held him were more stone hands.
He was being passed up through the levels of the keep like some unwanted trinket. Kaz was passed through four more levels, each time with the same horrifying rush to the ceiling.
Eventually Kaz’s journey came to a halt. His relief at having to face no more oncoming ceilings quickly died when he realized where he was. He was now a prisoner in the chamber of the emerald sphere.
“Here he is, wraith!” shouted Argaen Ravenshadow, whom Kaz had not seen materialize in the chamber. He was simply there, next to the minotaur, calling out to the creator of the artifact. “Shall I allow him a quick death? I know how much that would madden you!”
The emerald sphere flared violently. Ravenshadow laughed mockingly. “You cannot harm me, even though I know you would like to try! I have a piece of you, so to speak!”
While Kaz watched, puzzled, the dark elf shoved a hand into one of his robe pockets and removed a curved object. In the odd light of the room, it glinted a brilliant green … an emerald green. Kaz knew what it was instantly.
Argaen had a chunk of the emerald sphere.
He doubted that the elf could have taken the piece from Galan Dracos directly, and that could only mean that the magic thief had, at some point, scoured the ruins of the renegade mage’s stronghold up in the mountains between Hylo and Solamnia. Kaz knew that the knights had not found all of the shattered remnants of the sphere, even with the aid of sorcerers and clerics. It was just too impossible a task. Argaen must have been lucky enough to locate this particular piece.
“To think” — Ravenshadow turned to his prisoner and smiled briefly — “that I originally carried this as some sort of good-luck charm. How true that turned out to be! While I hold this, minotaur, I am shielded from him!”
Shoving the shard back into his pocket, the dark elf stalked up to the emerald sphere. As he neared it, mist began to rise above it, slowly congealing into the vague form of Galan Dracos. The wraith looked from Argaen to Kaz, silent all the while.
It was Ravenshadow who finally spoke. “He is yours! The companion, the friend, of your enemy! The closest you will come to revenge against the Solamnic Knight! Whatever you wish to do with him is up to you, but our bargain stands! First you will show me how to bind the sphere to my will!”
“Come … then.” The voice made the minotaur’s hair stand on end. That voice had haunted his dreams. This was no longer a creature strictly human. When Galan Dracos spoke, his voice was like the wind, seemingly drifting toward the listeners from all around.
The elf took another step toward his prize.
“No! I won’t let you do it!” A figure leaped from one of the shadowy corners nearby and landed on Argaen. Kaz struggled, feeling the stone hands loosen as Argaen’s concentration broke under the surprising assault. First the minotaur’s arms, and then his legs, were free. He started toward the two fighters. The newcomer was Delbin, and Kaz knew that, against Ravenshadow, the kender stood little chance.
No sooner did he think that than the dark elf managed to pull Delbin from him and toss him aside like a rag doll. Somehow Delbin landed on his feet, but that was the only good fortune they had, for immediately Ravenshadow whirled on both of them.
All strength fled from the minotaur’s massive frame, and he collapsed without taking another step. Frantically Kaz tried to rise, but it proved too much effort. Oddly, he felt as alert as before. It was only his body that lacked all strength. Delbin was likewise hampered.
Argaen looked them over coldly, then whirled back to face the emerald sphere. “How did that kender get in here?”
“I … was not … expecting … a kender. Neither apparently … were you.” Dracos sounded annoyed with both Ravenshadow and himself.
Glancing back at the hourglass on the table, the dark elf snarled, “Time is running out! Tell me what I must do, and this time nothing must go wrong!”
“You … will not … be disappointed.”
Kaz blinked, the only physical act he was still capable of. Dracos seemed anxious … very anxious.
Raising his hands high in the air, Ravenshadow stared at the emerald sphere. It started to pulsate, slowly at first, then faster and faster as the seconds went by. The elf became enraptured by his work. Slowly Galan Dracos began to dissipate.
Kaz had failed. There was no denying it. He could only watch helplessly as the emerald sphere grew brighter and brighter – so bright, in fact, that the minotaur had to shut his eyes. Thus it was that he did not see exactly what happened next.
In the last seconds, Argaen Ravenshadow faltered. The burning brilliance of the artifact did not bother his eyes, but for some reason he began to blink uncontrollably, regardless.
Outside, Nuitari, the black moon, had only just eclipsed Solinari.
A ghostly laugh reverberated throughout the chamber. The misty form of Galan Dracos no longer hung above the sphere.
With a roar of agony, the dark elf collapsed against the crystalline artifact. The glare died, and Kaz felt life returning to his limbs, all too slowly. Somewhere Delbin groaned.
Rave
nshadow pulled away from his prize and looked up to the heavens with a face contorted by numerous vying emotions. He laughed, but that laugh held both pleasure and sorrow. That laugh also held insanity.
His eyes were blood-red.
“I told you, elf, that only through you could I live again!”
The voice was that of Argaen Ravenshadow, but Kaz knew that the eyes, the mind, belonged to Galan Dracos.
This was what the wraith had been waiting for. This was why Dracos had needed the dark elf. The renegade mage had been unable to create more than an insubstantial form for himself, a form ever tied to the emerald sphere.
Argaen, however, had boasted that he was protected against the specter’s power thanks to the shard he carried. Kaz believed him, for he doubted that Dracos would have tolerated the magic thief all along if he had had the power to take over his body. What had happened to change things? Ravenshadow had put the shard into his robe pocket; had it slipped out somehow during the struggle with Delbin?
That was it, of course. Galan Dracos had been able to manipulate Argaen toward this moment and then let the kender do his bidding.
Kaz found that he could now raise himself to a sitting position. Dracos, enthralled by the success of his plot, was laughing and laughing. He clutched his newfound body tightly.
“Mistress, mistress, I thank you for your benevolence and this second chance!” roared Galan Dracos.
The minotaur shivered. There was no question as to who the sorcerer’s mistress was. Kaz was almost to his feet when the mage remembered him and turned.
“Kaz! Minotaur, I hope you did not think I was going to neglect you!”
“The thought had crossed my mind. Feel free to, human.”
Dracos laughed again. That laugh was getting on Kaz’s nerves. “I hope you appreciate how precious these last few moments of your life are; I can promise you, from personal experience, that death is not always a relief!”