Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol II - By Richard A. Knaak Page 0,291

had never gotten over her fear that one day a teleport spell would send her into some place from which she would never return. It was impossible to explain the feeling to anyone who could no longer perform the spell. They would have hardly felt sympathy for her plight.

“Why? What is it?” Lochivan asked, his brow furrowed. He was uneasy about something, perhaps several somethings. Sharissa wondered if he felt the oncoming stranger’s presence.

“Something… someone… of a different… I can’t explain it, but don’t you feel the approach of a presence in the west?”

“Is that what that is?” He glanced in the direction of the gate through which he and the others had entered earlier. “But anything that close… we should have seen it during our ride.…”

“That’s what I thought, too.” A suspicion formed. “Did you, Lochivan? You are probably one of only two of your folk that I might expect a true, unmasked answer from. Did you see anything? Sense anything?”

“Nothing!” The vehemence with which he answered revealed his deepening worry. “There’s nothing west but forest and plains… and the seas, of course. Dragon’s blood! Seekers?”

He had come to the same conclusion she had. The magical guardians of the city, the founders’ ancient servants, had been her only other choice. Formless save when they chose to dress themselves in the very earth and rock, as the one the Tezerenee called the Dragon of the Depths had, the guardians felt of this world, this ancient place. Not so the newcomer. There was only the slightest trace of this world on the intruder, as if it had briefly been a part of this place but had, as Sharissa noted again, come from somewhere beyond. Since Nimth was closed off, that left only the other continent and its masters. It had to be the Seekers, yet were they not part of this world, too?

Lochivan paused and removed one of his gauntlets. “Sword and shield! What a time for this!”

Despite the urgency of the situation, she paused. Her companion’s presence was comforting, which soothed her enough to keep her thoughts from running too amok. It would be worth the time to wait for him, providing it was only for a few seconds. Besides, the frustration in his voice made her curious as to his difficulties. “What’s wrong?”

He reached in between his dragonhelm and his armor and started scratching with such a fury she thought he would draw blood. “A damn rash! Nothing deadly, but it’s spread around the clan quite a bit! The skin gets dry and stays that way! Sometimes it itches so badly that I’m forced to stop everything and scratch until… until it becomes tolerable again.”

Lochivan pulled his hand away and replaced the gauntlet. He sighed. “As it finally has, thank the dragon. It’s over. Get moving!”

A bit surprised that a warrior like Lochivan would succumb to a rash during a moment of crisis, Sharissa nonetheless said nothing to him and did her best to keep from revealing any of her thoughts. She would have to mention this plague of irritation to her father when there was time. It might only be a rash now, but who was to say what it might become in the future?

They had barely progressed more than a dozen steps before the sorceress nearly came to a halt herself.

Something was in the square they were trying to reach. Something that was the same presence she had noted outside only a few minutes ago! Now it was inside and ahead of them! Yet, it had just been outside—

“Serkadion Manee!” she uttered, stunned. The name of the ancient Vraad scholar was a favorite oath of her father, and she had picked it up over the years.

Lochivan did not have to ask what was wrong. As she turned and looked at him she could see that the Tezerenee felt what she did.… Who could not? Sharissa scanned those Vraad standing or walking nearby. They were all pausing in their present interests and twisting about to stare in the direction of the square. A silence had fallen upon everyone in sight. One or two had enough presence of mind to make note of the duo moving toward the source of the disruption. To the young Zeree, they looked almost frightened. In their hearts, many Vraad feared that, now mostly bereft of their fabulous abilities, they would become easy prey for some outside threat.

That might very well be the truth, Sharissa realized.

“I have to teleport,” she announced, her words more