Legends of the Dragonrealm: Volume 04

by Richard A. Knaak

  Even if he had been able to speak, Wellen Bedlam would have not contradicted the Dragon King. Let the drake believe that it would now be a simple task to escape. If there was one thing the young scholar had learned, it was that nothing was simple in this place. Serkadion Manee might be dead, if what the Dragon King had said was true, but this was his creation.

  The Purple Dragon could continue to believe his own words, as far as Bedlam was concerned. Let him think that he could simply walk out of this place. Let him believe that with the gnome no more, he was now unchallenged master of the libraries and their contents.

  Wellen knew better. Even without their creator, the libraries were lethal.

  Had the Dragon King waited for a few more moments after delivering the mortal blow to Serkadion Manee, he would have perhaps seen a strange thing happen to the Vraad sorcerer. With a few vestiges of life still remaining, the body began to sink into the false marble floor and, as it sank, it changed, becoming less and less the gnome and more a part of the very floor itself.

  Serkadion Manee had designed his libraries so that nothing would be ever be wasted.

  Not even him.

  In the corridor where they had first entered, the party appeared. Shade was still a silent corpse. He might truly have been dying for all Wellen knew, but there was nothing that could be done about it at the moment. All of their lives were in the scaly claws of the Dragon King and his concern at present had little to do with their well-being.

  Holding out the pronged key, Purple returned control of the scholar's body to him. Wellen savored the ability to move, then looked up at his captor.

  "How doessss thissss work? There issss no hole."

  "Shade knew," Bedlam replied with some satisfaction. "But you made certain he wouldn't be able to help."

  For his remark, he received a backhanded blow to the face. It was only a tap, but from the Dragon King it was enough to send the human falling back. When Wellen rose, he felt blood trickling down the left side of his mouth. Now, not only did his head throb, but so did his jaw.

  "Again, how doessss thissss work? Another flippant remark and I shall tear your head off! Then, we shall ssssee if your female will be more obliging!"

  The threat to Xabene was sufficient. Looking at the blank wall and then back at the key, Wellen shrugged. "I would guess that the first step would be to place it against the wall. From what little the—Shade said, it sounds like the only thing you can do." He had almost mentioned the single volume that the hooded warlock still had secreted on his person. That single dragon tome might yet save their lives. "After that, I can only assume that it will either open or you'll have to turn it first."

  "Ssssimple. Ssssensible. I agree." The Dragon King stepped past his captives and placed the key against the stonelike wall.

  Nothing happened. He tried turning the key, causing it to scrape against the substance. Wellen almost expected the living stone to rebel against the sharp prongs of the key, but that was not so.

  This time, there was a reaction.

  With great hesitation, the wall began to separate around the region where the prongs of the key had touched it. The drake quickly pulled the device away and hissed in triumph as the crack became a circular opening which in turn grew larger and larger. Once again, the scholar was reminded of a giant maw, only this time he was inside looking out. Not a comfortable thought.

  "Much better!" Purple roared. "Much better!"

  The opening of the wall was much slower this time than when they had first arrived here. Now, with success at hand, the Dragon King grew impatient. He stood before the expanding portal and tried to use physical means to make it widen faster. That failed. In an attempt to keep his impatience at a minimum, the drake turned away from the exit and faced Wellen.

  "Conssssider yoursssself fortunate, manling. You have been witnessss to the end of one era and the beginning of the next. Thissss will be the dawning of a new kingdom. The Dragon Emperor will ssssoon on longer ssssit in the Tyber Mountains. He shall rule from here! From . . . from a new Penaclessss, yesss! I shall ressssurrect the ancient city!" It was obvious that the Purple Dragon did not intend to turn over the gnome's vast knowledge to his golden counterpart but rather intended that he become new lord of the realm. Even with the knowledge of Serkadion Manee, Wellen wondered whether Purple was taking on more than he was capable of controlling. Certainly, the other monarchs would have something to say.

  The portal was now large enough to admit the Dragon King through. Wellen was surprised to see that the sun was setting. Was it the same day? Another? Time here, he was certain, did not pass as it did outside.

  Purple started to step through, then recalled something. He turned and went back to the silent form of Shade. With little care, the drake rolled the warlock onto his backside and reached into the volumnous cloak.

  Move, Shade! Bedlam expected a trick, expected the spellcaster to leap up and take on the Dragon King, but Shade remained motionless. This was no ploy, which meant that now there truly was no hope.

  "Dragon of the Depthssss! How far musssst I reach to find it?" A moment later, the horrific knight smiled. He pulled his hand from the confines of the cloak. In his claws he held the tapestry. "Yesss. Lessst I forget it and it remain losssst in your infernal clothes. Thissss piece issss definitely worth insssspecting."

  Outside, a wind whipped up the nearby grass. Wellen contemplated running for the portal, but he could not leave Xabene nor even Shade.

  Rising, the Dragon King looked over the intricate work of the artifact. "I wonder. A few changessss and I may be able to usssse thissss. No more keyssss. I will have the only way in and out."

  A flutter of wings caught Wellen's attention.

  A huge, white form that seemed all claws and wings darted through the portal and made for the backside of the drake.

  The reptilian knight dropped both the key and the tapestry as he went down under the onslaught of a monstrous Necri.

  Acting on sheer instinct, Wellen rushed to Xabene's side. She, of the three of them, was the only one still under a spell of paralysis. Shade, after all, was hardly in a condition to crawl, if he was even still alive. Taking hold of the enchantress by the waist, he started to drag her toward the opening.

  Despite his lack of height and his scholarly background, he was far from weak. Xabene was also light, which helped. Even before Purple had recovered from his initial surprise and started to fight back, Wellen had her in the mouth of the portal.

  What he hoped to gain, he could not say. Wellen was aware that he could not carry her all the way to safety. There was nowhere to hide for miles. No matter who won the battle, the victor would easily be able to chase down the runaways.

  Still, he did not give up. Wellen would not have been able to forgive himself. Too many had died. If he could even buy Xabene a little time . . .

  The wind cooled him a little bit, which helped, but the soil was too soft. He could not get much traction. The oncoming darkness, which he would have once thought a plus, also worked against him. Both the Necri and Purple would be able to find him, day or night. Wellen, on the other hand, could already tell that he was no longer gifted with night vision. Bumbling around in the dark, with Xabene an unwieldly load, he would not be far from the pentagon when the winner came to reclaim the two of them.

  "You look as if you could use my aid, sirrah."

  Bedlam swore.

  "Such language," Benton Lore said, adding a chuckle.

  "Does no one walk or simply ride anymore? Did you have to materialize right behind me?"

  "I did nothing of the sort. I crept here."

  Feeling somewhat abashed, the scholar apologized.

  The black man waved his apology aside. "Never mind that. Let me help you with her."

  A single touch of his hand to her forehead and Xabene was released from the Dragon King's spell.

  "Lords of the Dead!" she muttered.

  "Good," Lore commented almost clinically. "I did not think he would wa
ste anything fancy upon you."

  "How are you feeling?" Wellen asked her.

  "Good enough to run if we have to."

  "There is no need, my lady. I can teleport us all back." The major-domo raised his hand.

  Wellen wanted to go. He wanted to travel as far as he could, and then find ways of allowing him to journey farther. By no means did he desire a return to Serkadion Manee's former domain. Yet . . .

  "I can't leave him, Xabene."

  She seized his arm. "There's a Dragon King and a Necri in there! My Necri! If that thing should win or be fought off, it'll come for me! I failed the Lords of the Dead! Shade may have repelled them, but that monstrosity won't care! It only knows that I have betrayed its creators!"

  "Go with Commander Lore, then. I have more than one reason for going back! Just trust me!" He tore free of her and hurried back to the gaping hole.

  She did not cry out for him, but Bedlam knew she was still behind him, refusing to leave if he did not. Wellen hoped that neither Xabene nor Benton Lore would suffer because of his decision.

  The drake and the Necri had taken their battle farther down the corridor. Wellen had expected the batlike creature to fall quickly under the massive power of Purple, but the dragon appeared to be holding back. Either he was weaker than Wellen had thought or he was afraid to unleash his full strength so near his precious books. The drake had, after all, resorted to physical violence when he had finally taken down Serkadion Manee. Neither the gnome nor the dragon had likely been able to utilize their full strength.

  Shade was where he had been left. The fear that he had accidentally been included in the deadly duel had proved false. Wellen slipped through the circular entranceway and rushed over to the warlock, ever careful to keep an eye on the combatants. With two such as they, the battle could turn at any moment.

  "Shade!" There was no response to his whisper. He was forced to begin dragging the injured figure as he had Xabene. Unfortunately, Shade's much larger and more limp body proved at least twice as laborious to carry as the slighter enchantress. The false marble floor added to the difficulties, for Wellen found that he was in danger of slipping now and then.

  Something fell from the cloak. Wellen leaned down and saw that it was the dragon tome that the aged spellcaster had appropriated much earlier. He picked it up and stuffed it into his shirt. There would be time to deal with it later.

  Benton Lore called to him from the other side. "Do you need help?"

  "Take Xabene and leave!"

  "She does not desire to be reasonable, sirrah, and I find that neither do I!"

  He sighed. A part of him could not help but he relieved at their reappearance. "Help me, then."

  The black man came around and took Shade's feet. "I tried to teleport you out, but it did not work for some reason."

  "One of the gnome's tricks . . ." Thinking of tricks, he started to look around. A metal object a few feet to his left caught his eye. "Wait!" Lowering Shade, he reached over and retrieved the pronged key that the drake lord had dropped during the initial assault. Wellen pocketed the key and repositioned himself.

  "What is that?"

  "Something which could buy us time." Continuing his search as he began to back through the gateway, the scholar finally located the tapestry. It had evidently been carried partway down the hall with the two combatants. Wellen calculated his chances. Once Shade was outside, he might still have time to—

  He heard the Necri shriek.

  Both Wellen and Benton Lore turned to the agonized cry. Far down the corridor, the Dragon King had finally gained the upper hand. His adversary was pinned under him. The talons of the drake had torn both the demonic creature's wings to shreds and now an odd foam was spreading over the batlike horror. Purple released his hold on his opponent and stepped back to watch as his spell enveloped the dying beast. The Dragon King himself did not look well. He was bleeding from severe wounds. His stance was none too steady.

  "We have to hurry, Master Bedlam!"

  They had the warlock nearly through when he began to mutter and struggle. Wellen heard Shade speak to someone he referred to as his father, warning him about some scheme. Then, Lore lost his grip and Wellen stumbled. The warlock's words grew garbled, but he did not cease struggling.

  The anxious scholar looked up in the direction of the Dragon King.

  The reptilian knight had noticed them. With some effort, he started toward the open portal.

  "Step through!" Wellen roared. "Pull him out from my side!"

  As the soldier hastened to obey, the scholar reached into his pocket and pulled out the key. His idea was desperate, but not completely mad.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Just pull him through!"

  Xabene joined them, much to his annoyance. We can all die together! "Go back!"

  She ignored him. Leaning, the enchantress helped Lore with the mad warlock. Shade's words were complete nonsense now, but his hampering of their efforts was not.

  Wellen could wait no longer. He reached forward with the key, choosing a part of the wall just to the left of the portal. A crash nearly made him drop the key.

  "It's all right!" Xabene called. "I reached in with one hand and blocked his spell with one of my own! It was a weak attack!"

  "He will summon up something much more troublesome in a moment, I'm certain!" the officer added. He gave a final tug. "Your friend is free, Master Bedlam!"

  All too aware that he might be totally mistaken, Wellen turned the key as the drake had done, only in the opposite direction.

  The mouth of the portal began closing.

  The party fell back as sorcerer's tendrils reached forth from within. They were not the target, however. Instead, the tendrils sought to keep the entrance open. The spell on the citadel was far more potent, however, and the portal continued to shrink unabated.

  Even as the tendrils failed, Purple stood at the threshold.

  "If he gets outside, we're lost!" the enchantress shouted. "He could shift form!" Both she and Lore unleashed their sorcery.

  Their spells died at the wall. They could not hope to repel the drake unless he was outside, and if he was, then it would be too late.

  Wellen looked at Shade. The injured spellcaster's eyes had opened, but it was apparent he was not seeing the world around him. If only we had his strength! We might be able to do it!

  Perhaps there was yet time for one more miracle.

  Hurrying over to Shade's side, he knelt and took the warlock's head in his arm. Wellen faced his mad companion toward the portal and leaned down to whisper. He was working on an assumption, one based solely upon the master warlock's triumphant return from the dank domain of the Lords of the Dead. "Shade, they've broken their word! Your cousins have broken their word! They're coming!"

  Purple had a claw through what remained of the gateway and was crawling through. Despite his wounds, he shrugged off the desperate attacks of Benton Lore and Xabene.

  Shade stirred, but still did not act.

  Wellen tried the last thing he could think of. "They want her, Shade. They want her descendents. They want Lady Sharissa!"

  Crystalline eyes blazed. Shade gritted his teeth. For a moment, a much younger, more arrogant figure lay in the scholar's lap.

  "It's coming through the hole, Shade! It's coming for her!"

  The Vraad glared in the direction of the Dragon King.

  A rain of needlelike thorns shot forth at the drake. Concerned only with his escape, he did not see them. Only when they first pierced his armored hide did the drake realize his danger.

  A full score more struck home. Several entered wounds left by the Necri. Roaring his agony, the drake lord tried to pull them free, but for every one he pulled out, more than a dozen found root. In mere seconds, he looked like some sort of grotesque parody of a pincushion.

  Still the needles flew.

  His breathing a ragged hiss, Purple finally realized that to remain outside was to invite certain death. He began to slide
back even as more of Shade's missiles hit. His pace was too slow, however. It was clear that he would not escape the closing portal on his own.

  Then, just before the blood-covered knight would have been crushed, Wellen saw a small hand drag him back.

  The gateway closed.

  He breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Shade. Thank you."

  Then the weary Bedlam looked down and realized he was holding nothing but air.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  "We think he has returned to his caverns beneath the realm of the Dragon Emperor," Benton Lore informed them. "With Shade it is almost impossible to tell, but our spies reported sightings of a cloaked and shadowy wraith." He smiled. "I can think of no one else to whom that description would be appropriate."

  "Why did he leave?" Xabene asked.

  Wellen, the enchantress, and the Green Dragon's majordomo sat astride horses in the middle of a glen just west of the main portion of the Dagora Forest. In the four weeks since escaping Purple and the citadel of Serkadion Manee, the scholar and his bride had made the small settlement of Zuu their temporary home. The two of them had both agreed that they needed to find a quieter, safer place than even that, but not until Wellen was satisfied as to Shade's fate. Even Xabene agreed they owed the ancient mage that much.

  "I think the madness has returned," Lore replied, his smile fading a bit. "He is said to seem a bit at a loss, as if his memory is incomplete or, at the very least, muddled. He may not even recall that he was ever inside the citadel. His failure to secure a method of achieving immortality may have also sent him back to the real of fantasy. From what I have discerned, it would not be the first time."

  "I'm not so certain I would ever want to be an immortal. The Lords of the Dead dangled that above my head, but the price seems too high now."