Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol II - By Richard A. Knaak Page 0,276

voice. She stood behind the huge wolf, her face stretched in terror at the death of the one thing she had been able to call a friend during her childhood years.

Trying to turn and seize her, Melenea’s legacy slipped. Cabal had tried to stand too long on its injured limb alone, and combined with the imbalance caused by Sirvak’s mangled form, the blue-green monster’s front half had little sure footing. It slid midway down the staircase, nearly taking Dru with it.

“Where are you?” Cabal cried out as it tried to right itself. “Come and play with Cabal!”

It was blind. Sirvak had done that much. Though it could still scent them, Cabal had no eyes whatsoever.

Sharissa did not care whether it could see or not. Dru looked up and saw both his daughter and Xiri moving to the stairway. Sharissa’s visage was cold and deadly. For the first time, she looked like a true Vraad.

To the horror of both her father and the elf, she called to the killer stumbling to its feet on the steps. “I stand above you, Cabal! I am up here! Play with me!”

“Sharissa! Get away!” Dru shouted madly. He hoped that at the very least he would turn the wolf’s attention to him. His head was nearly clear enough. If Cabal would just stumble around for a moment or two…

“Speak to me, Shari darling!” Cabal cried, again mimicking its mistress.

“I’ll do more than speak!” Rage fueled her words and her will.

“Come—” That was as far as Cabal got before flames engulfed the familiar’s entire body. The monster roared, both pain and accusation in its cry. Nothing else burned but the horrible creature. Even Dru, who lay nearly within arm’s reach of the magical killer, felt no heat.

Cabal tried one pitiful spell in an attempt to save itself. The attempt failed and with it the wolf. Howling mournfully, the blazing beast collapsed. The fire did not go out until there was nothing left of Melenea’s last ploy. Dru recognized the source of his earlier misgivings, the sense that Melenea still waited. He suspected that the tiny creature that had run over his foot might even have been the familiar. In its tiny size, it could move from place to place, wreaking the havoc its mistress had desired.

That was ended now.

Sharissa fell back, both exhausted and disgusted, but Xiri was there to catch her. The two Vraad looked at each other. Dru nodded and smiled, though he knew neither of them felt any happiness.

Outside, thunder announced the storm’s intention to continue on with or without the helpful influence of Cabal. The harsh noise brought them all back to the reality and the peril of their present situation.

“We have to leave as soon as possible,” Dru commanded, rising slowly and unsteadily from the floor. “Gather what you need and come with me!”

Sharissa could not speak, but she looked at Xiri. The elf was uncommonly solemn. “Sirvak… took care of all of that. The last of your horses wait for us below. We knew we could not stay much longer. When we tried to contact you to tell you to stay where you were, that we would be joining you, we could not find you.” She indicated the few traces of ash that marked Cabal’s fiery demise. “I suppose it was that one that blocked the link. Sirvak offered to fly ahead and find you. It already feared the worse.”

Not desiring to sound cold, Dru replied, “Then there’s no reason to remain. You two go to the horses.”

“What will you do, Father?” Sharissa asked, finally able to stand on her own. Her eyes were wide and gave her a hollow appearance.

“Find something appropriate for a shroud,” he said quietly, testing his own ability to stand unaided. He stared pointedly at the remains of his most loyal of servants. “Even if Sirvak died in Nimth, this place will not claim the body. I won’t let it.”

Sharissa smiled gratefully, then let Xiri lead her down the stairs and away from the tragic scene. Dru waited until he was alone. He knelt by the battered form and picked it up. As he carried it off, searching in his mind for something that would give the familiar’s crushed body a proper sense of dignity and honor, Dru whispered to the limp form of the only one who had ever really known the pain in his mind and heart, because that one had been a part of him from its creation. “Time to go home,