Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol II - By Richard A. Knaak Page 0,257

that he was wrong, but a simple turn of the head was enough to show him the worst.

His experiment, the spiral patterns and the orbiting crystals, the work that was to have given him the answers he needed, was in disarray. A few stones still circled, but in mad curves that no longer had meaning. Several had fallen to the floor. The spiral patterns still existed, but they had deteriorated beyond repair. Rendel had destroyed not only the culmination of his research but the patterns that had been needed to find the nearest opening.

The master mage frowned. Viewing things, he saw it was not so much Rendel who had destroyed the artifact but rather the artifact that had killed the Tezerenee. But how? As he had created it, the experiment should have been harmless. This one had unleashed enough magic to make an end of the intruder.

“Sirvak!” Dru shouted, more out of anger than because he thought that it would have any more success in summoning the familiar than the mind link had.

“Masterrr.”

The gold and black beast was a pitiful sight as it fluttered into the room. It gave Xiri a wide berth, glancing at her with pain-wracked eyes as it passed, and settled down on a table nearby. Dru studied the animal, taken aback by its disheveled appearance. Its fur and feathers were matted heavily with dirt and blood and it was even missing most of one of its forelegs. The spellcaster’s anger deflated as he imagined the cause of the beast’s injuries.

Sirvak stretched its ravaged wings, the effort visibly painful. “Masterrr.”

Xiri moved to join Dru, taking his arm and watching the familiar from his side. Sirvak hissed in her direction, but shrank into itself when the sorcerer gave it a withering look. A slight smile spread across the elf’s face.

“What happened here, Sirvak?” he finally asked. “Where is Sharissa? How did Rendel get in here and what killed him? Tell me.”

The familiar opened its toothy beak and squawked in frustration. It could not take its eyes from Xiri, though it was evident that Sirvak could not abide her being here. Dru knew that not trusting outsiders was part of the creature’s training, but it should have been able to make the distinction between those like Melenea and one who was so obviously the master’s companion.

“I’m still waiting.”

“Answer your master, familiar,” the elf urged, still wearing the smile.

“The Mistressss Sharissa, masterrr. It was by her doing that this one”—it indicated Rendel—“gained entrance here.”

“What killed him? Was it my experiment?”

Sirvak’s eyes were narrow slits that followed each movement Xiri made. “Yes-sss. It was the experiment.”

Dru had been afraid of that. He had no doubt that the trap had been set for him, which meant that Melenea had been here at least once before. Had Sharissa let her inside? He recalled his own commands to the familiar, the ones that had made it virtually impossible for the winged creature to tell his daughter anything about Dru’s time with the enchantress. Once again, the fault was his. Sirvak had only done the best it could under the circumstances.

“Where is Sharissa?”

“Sirvak does not know.”

“Not know?” He quieted as the injured creature shut its eyes in shame. “I’m sorry, Sirvak. When was the last time you saw her?”

The familiar opened its brilliant eyes wide. “Mistress was with Tezerenee! Hood-faced one. Like this one.”

Dru gave Rendel’s body a glimpse and asked, “Gerrod? Do you mean she’s with Gerrod?”

“Gerrod, yesss.”

“This Gerrod is like his brother?” Xiri asked.

“Like Rendel, yes, but I didn’t think he was quite so bad.” He studied Sirvak’s wounds. The familiar had fought wyverns before, but none had caused such damage. A larger beast, like Cabal, would have been more of a threat. Something did not sit right. “You’ve no idea what happened to them.”

“No, masterrr.” Sirvak was upset with itself. It kept staring at its lord’s companion with loathing. Dru stroked the creature’s head, trying to soothe it.

“It’s been terribly damaged,” the elf said, looking over the ruined limb and the scars. “Perhaps it might be better if you destroyed it and made a new one.”

Dru said nothing, but rather stared into Sirvak’s eyes. When the gold and black animal closed its eyes again, its body shivering, he leaned close to it and, in a quiet, companionable tone, asked, “Sirvak, will you do something for me?”

“Master?” It looked at him, weariness and pain giving its voice an unsteady pitch.

“I want you to go outside and search. Find Sharissa.”

“Masterrr—”

“Do as I say.”

Sirvak hesitated.