effort to escape the sensation, the warlock looked into the creature’s eyes—only to find he had made a mistake. The pupilless, ice-blue eyes snared him like a noose, nearly drawing him further to the brink of… of a nameless fate he had no desire to explore further.
Blinking, he withdrew deeper into his cloak. There was always safety there. A cloak had spared him the anger of his father more than once while he had still lived among his clan. It would protect him now.
“What is it?” he asked.
“It? I am no it! I am Darkhorse, of course!” The stallion pawed at the earth, digging gullies in the hard, rock-filled ground. “Talk to me, not around me!”
“Shhh!” Sharissa pleaded to the menacing form. “He was not being insulting, Darkhorse! You should know that by now! He can’t be blamed for not understanding what you are, can he?”
“I suppose not.” Mollified, the beast ceased his excavation. He trotted a few steps closer to the warlock, who dared to be defiant and not back away, though he desperately wanted to. What was this monstrosity?
“Easy,” the sorceress suggested to her companion.
“I merely wanted to see him better!” Darkhorse studied Gerrod’s darkened visage so thoroughly that the Tezerenee knew the stallion saw through his glamour. “Why do you hide in such shadow?”
“Darkhorse!”
“My own desire, nothing more,” Gerrod returned, speaking a bit more sharply than he had wanted. This was not going the way he wanted it to; he had no control over the situation. Between Sharissa’s belated appearance and her unbelievable companion, the warlock could not think quickly enough.
“Darkhorse!” The slim woman came between them, guiding her companion back to a more decent distance as she spoke. “What Gerrod chooses to do is up to him; I’ve warned you about how we Vraad are. We are very much individuals; I thought three days would have shown you that already.”
This beast is responsible for her not coming sooner, Gerrod noted. He had assumed as much, but it was a part of his nature that he liked to have things verified for him. It also made Sharissa’s absence more forgivable in his mind. What was he compared to the mighty Darkhorse?
As he wondered that, memories concerning the unsettling creature returned to the warlock. Master Zeree had spoken of his unusual companion during his temporary exile from Nimth, an accidental exile due to too much curiosity upon the sorcerer’s part. Gerrod had taken some of the elder Zeree’s tale as pure embellishment, finding that the concept of a being such as Darkhorse was beyond him at the time.
Not so now. The hooded Tezerenee knew now that, if anything, Dru’s story had failed to fully emphasize the astonishing nature of the ebony stallion. Small wonder. He doubted that tale could do justice to what stood before him.
“You apologize to Gerrod,” Sharissa was telling Darkhorse. The warlock found that amusing; she treated the leviathan as if he were no more than a child. Yet Darkhorse did look contrite.
This creature… a child? Gerrod could not believe his own notion. “I apologize, one called Gerrod!”
“Accepted.” It was fortunate that the hood and the glamour hid his expression; the smile on his face would have likely angered both newcomers. A child!
“I’d wondered what became of you, Sharissa,” the warlock said, seizing control of the conversation now that he had a better idea of what it was he faced. According to Dru Zeree, Darkhorse was an eternal creature, but one that had, it seemed, a very limited experience with things. Gerrod knew how to handle such personalities. “I can see now why you might have forgotten.”
She colored, a simple act that somehow pleased him. It was a becoming sight… not that he cared about such things. His work was all that mattered.
“I’m sorry, Gerrod. I had to make certain that people grew used to Dark-horse as soon as possible, since he intends to remain for some time. The best way was to let him be seen in my company as I moved about the city. Whenever I needed to talk to somebody, I would introduce him to them.”
Excuse me, have you met Darkhorse yet? Gerrod found the scene in his mind almost too much for him to handle without laughing. “And how successful were you?”
Sharissa looked less pleased. “Too many of them are distrusting. They think my father will use him as a tool to reorganize the balance of power in our triumvirate.”
Her last words darkened the Tezerenee’s mood. “My father being one of