Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol II - By Richard A. Knaak Page 0,114

the madness of the creature before her.

Shade frowned and purposely looked away, only to find the blackened mirrors confronting his gaze. Turning back to his captive, he smiled again. It was a different sort of smile, though, one tinged with guilt; an emotion Erini found it hard to accept that the warlock would feel under the present circumstances.

“You may survive,” he added, almost hopefully. “If you do, I’ll return you safe and sound to here—or Gordag-Ai if the drakes succeed here. You have my oath on that.”

She gave him one last glare, telling him what she thought of his promises.

The warlock grew oddly unsettled. “We have to go now.”

As Erini struggled futilely to make her body respond, Shade wrapped his seemingly endless cloak about both of them and pulled her toward him. The world seemed to warp around them—and then they were elsewhere.

XX

SHADE!”

Darkhorse struck the wall of the cellar he had materialized in only a few seconds before. As with his previous stops, the only trace of his adversary was a minute trail left behind by the warlock’s method of travel. The previous thread had led him here—but then, the last trail before that and the ones before that had all led him along.

That was the truth of the matter, Darkhorse finally admitted to himself. He had been led along. He had fallen for yet another ploy by the warlock, who had spent each and every lifetime during his curse plotting and planning tricks for the incarnation yet to come, not to mention the hundreds of enemies he had gathered over the centuries.

“Damn you!” The shadow steed kicked through the wall. He stepped back, annoyed and embarrassed. If he was not more careful, he would do the Dragon King’s work for him. How ironic it would be for the inhabitants to discover that the palace had collapsed due to the efforts of one of its defenders.

After his fourth miss, Darkhorse suspected he was being led astray; suspected it, but could not be certain. There was always the chance that Shade wanted him to believe he was on a false trail. As he had thought so often in the past, the only thing predictable about the warlock was his unpredictability. That convoluted sort of reasoning had forced him to pursue the trail again and again. This visitation, however, had finally settled it for him. Shade had made a fool out of the eternal once more.

What is your purpose for all of this, Shade? What plot have you unleashed now?

Was there danger to Melicard or the Princess Erini? The possibility was too great to ignore. Darkhorse departed the damaged cellar posthaste. In his imagination, he saw the king and all his soldiers scattered about like so many toys. Worse yet, he pictured the novice spellcaster, Erini, desperately battling for herself and her betrothed against a foe she could not hope to withstand. It was not that she was weak or that she was a female; it was because the warlock had the experience of the ages to draw upon, whereas she had only a handful of suggestions given to her by Drayfitt and him.

He burst through the portal’s other end, landing amidst a conference between Melicard and several officers. A few could not help gasping at the imposing sight. Melicard flinched, but otherwise held his shock back respectably.

“Darkhorse! Where have you been? Dawn is almost upon us! The first rays are already doing battle with the weakening night!”

“Already?” The eternal sought out a window facing the proper direction. Sure enough, there was an aura of light growing steadily upward from the horizon. Had he been occupied that long? Either his obsession had finally grown completely out of control, or Shade had added a slight twist to the trail, secretly slowing Darkhorse’s time perspective. True, he had also taken quite some time with his search of Quorin’s belongings, but that still was not sufficient. It would have been an astounding feat, slowing time, that is, but hardly something beyond the abilities of a Vraad. Darkhorse prayed he was incorrect; if Shade was playing with time, then the entire world was threatened. The Vraad had a tendency to eventually destroy everything they utilized.

Melicard sensed Darkhorse’s sinking mood. “What is it? What did you find in Quorin’s chambers? Something of great importance?”

Shaking dark thoughts from his mind, the shadow steed finally replied. “There is nothing of value to us that I could discover. Perhaps you will find it different. My sincere recommendation, however, is to