sound of his name. Reegan might be the heir apparent, but it was Lochivan to whom Barakas entrusted most of the tasks that he wanted completed. “Lochivan. Did you sense something to the east? Something of Nimth?”
“Sire, I felt some presence and it may have been as you say, but I could not swear to it.”
“Spoken well. Could you find it?”
“I think it might be possible. What is it, Father?”
Barakas stroked his beard. He gazed thoughtfully at things only existing in his mind. “From bitter Nimth, it could be either our salvation or our death.”
Recalling those left behind, Lochivan said nothing.
“Find out, but be wary. It may be that the avians’ threat has become secondary. Go now!” The Lord Tezerenee chuckled to himself as his son departed to comply with his commands. The irony of what might be out there was not lost on the patriarch. It was possible that he had achieved what he had always dreamed of, uniting the Vraad race, making it one vast force with a common goal.
“How unfortunate,” he finally muttered.
NIMTH RAGED, SHRIEKING its disapproval with thunder and accenting its fury with lightning. Whirlwinds spawned and died. The land shifted and shaped itself. A haze was slowly spreading, one that did not bode well. A few adventurous spellcasters had gone out to study it, the Vraad’s belief in their individual immortality still dominant at the time. That belief, like so much else on Nimth, began to erode when it became evident that the explorers would not be returning.
Dru’s domain gave the thousands some protection, but the storm was all around them, spreading the poisoned magic everywhere. The castle no longer obeyed commands without hesitation. One sorceress had already been lost, crushed between two walls that had closed on her with surprising speed. After that, no one else demanded the right to create for themselves private chambers. The Vraad had become, against their preferences, a socializing people. It was now the only way they felt secure while they waited their opportunity to cross to their new home.
From the top of the tallest tower, the lord of the domain and a figure nearly buried within a massive cloak watched over the proceedings. Just beyond the edges of the Zeree domain, the shrouded realm already intruded. It was a bit of a shock to both men. Their calculations had said the way would open again and it had. What they had not predicted was that it would spread to encompass a region twice as great as the castle of pearl. Dru wondered if the founders had had a hand in the stunning development.
“Dragon’s blood!” the half-seen Gerrod muttered as he watched the latest band vanish. “This is unnerving!”
Dru agreed. His experience with the ghost lands had been from the inside. Seeing the change from without made him appreciate Sharissa’s shock all the more. The group of Vraad riding through the phantom field had started out much the way he had, a living being surrounded by specters of another world. Solid flesh mingling with translucent unreality.
That was the way it began. The deeper and deeper they rode, the less distinct was the difference. Midway to the forest, the riders grew faded around the edges, as if the vision of those observing was failing them. Yet, it was not their vision, but those they watched who were lacking. By the time half the remaining distance was covered, the ruined landscape of Nimth was visible through the backs of the riders as nearly as much as it was through the forest and the field.
When the refugees entered the forest, they were already part of the other world.
“They’re across,” Gerrod said. He mentioned it every time, possibly because he still worried that the cross-over would fail before he had departed Nimth. The hooded Tezerenee had shocked Dru with his knowledge of the shrouded realm and its intrusion upon Nimth, not to mention the horrors racking the Vraad birthplace. Gerrod had not only looked over many of his brother’s notes, but he had discussed Dru’s work with Sharissa over their long trek to the Zeree domain. That, coupled with his own research, made him as capable as Dru in many things.
The Tezerenee was still nervous around his father’s former ally. He had explained his fears, had explained why Sharissa had not received Dru’s summoning, and, despite the assurances he had received in turn, still expected the elder Zeree to turn on him.
With the danger of misdirected sorcery, which they had experienced in the