Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol II - By Richard A. Knaak Page 0,334

being here when the spherical shell floating before him hatched. He would have to give in, but only this once.

How had Sharissa described it? Relax and give himself over to the magic? There was supposed to be a spectrum or lines of force.

He saw neither, but he did feel a strange tingling in his body, as if some living force had permeated his entire form. A new wave of panic threatened to drown him, but he fought it off. This outworld magic would not twist him to its own interests! It was he who commanded!

Something briefly shimmered before his eyes. Not a spectrum. Not a field of lines crisscrossing into infinity. More like a path floating in the nothingness.

A path? Mention had been made of paths utilized by Darkhorse when he and the sorcerer had made their escape from the infernal nonplace. Reacting out of habit, he tried to snare it as he might a rabbit for food. Only when it proved impossible to find again did he think about what he was doing. Vraad methods did work with the sorcery of the founders’ world, but not without great effort and a high level of chance.

“All right, damn you! Take me! Only this once!”

He relaxed his body, if not his mind, and let the power flow into him. It was more than a tingle now; he itched, but from within.

Paths, the warlock thought. There are paths. I just have to open my will to them.

It reappeared, a long, winding path running through the emptiness into a distant glow far beyond. Gerrod smiled. With the same presence of mind, he made himself drift toward the inviting trail. There was probably a better way to do what he had succeeded in doing so far, but he would leave that, as he had left so many things already, to more contemplative times. All that the warlock cared about now was reaching the path that would lead him to the Dragonrealm.

Another gleaming path crisscrossed the first.

His eyes narrowed. Even as the second brightened into view, a third and a fourth, one unconnected to the others, materialized. Gerrod swore under his breath, then openly as a horde of trails shooting this way and that formed before his eyes.

The Void was not so empty. In fact, it was cluttered beyond imagination, but by things so insubstantial that even a creature like Yereel had apparently never noted them.

Which one was the correct path?

He tentatively reached out with his mind, working as best he could with his newfound might, not against it. As a Vraad sorcerer, he would have been able to sense some of the differences between the paths. Hopefully, it would be the same now.

The first trail he stared at vanished a breath later. It was not one he wanted, that much he knew. Encouraged, Gerrod touched others and watched them fade away as his mind discarded them as possible choices. Most simply felt wrong, as if he knew without actually knowing that they went to a place the warlock was not interested in visiting. A few disturbed him greatly… and one was so chilling, so disquieting, that he abandoned it in near panic. Yet, wiping his brow, he was encouraged. Only a few dozen paths remained where there had been an endless array. Many had disappeared without his even studying them; it was possible his subconscious was now aiding his efforts.

Several more dwindled away to nothing, but then Gerrod recalled his companion. He felt an intense need to turn and reassure himself. It was more than merely sudden worry; he was absolutely certain that he had to turn around.

He did.

The cocoon was pulsating.

Yereel would soon emerge… and then what would Gerrod do?

He whirled around and scanned the paths remaining to him. Still too many to be certain.

“You’re a fool!” he muttered.

All paths but one vanished as he made his choice. He knew it would take him to the land of the Dragonrealm, but no more. That, at this point, was all that mattered.

As if discouraged by final decision, his body was suddenly standing on the very trail. Gerrod took an anxious step forward. As thin as it appeared, it held him quite readily. It was narrower than he had thought, and Gerrod tried not to imagine what might happen if he took a misstep.

The same inner alarm that had warned him to look back now fairly shook his body with its intensity.

The Tezerenee needed no more encouragement. He raced down the glimmering, ethereal path and