Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol II - By Richard A. Knaak Page 0,346

of its kind, who looked more or less exactly like every other Quel that Gerrod had seen, and signaled to it. The other monster hooted a short reply and climbed along the wall toward the duo.

Both fascinated and horrified, the warlock could only watch. That such huge beasts could move about so nimbly down here and climb from one precarious position to another was astounding. He hoped they did not plan on having him attempt to mimic their skill; if so, it would be a short climb—and a fatal fall.

“Sharissa Zeree,” he whispered. “What have you gotten me into?”

Gerrod soon found that he had once more been turned over to another guard. The newcomer looked him over, reached out with a speed remarkable for its size, and wrapped the helpless Tezerenee in a one-armed bear hug. While Gerrod struggled to keep from being cracked into small pieces, the massive, armadillolike creature managed a handhold on the wall and pulled itself out of the tunnel and into the huge cavern. One-armed, the Quel somehow scurried across the wall for some distance before diving into yet another tunnel. Even as it landed on its feet, it released its prisoner. The warlock fell to the floor an ungainly sight.

More tunnels followed. Gerrod was convinced that this was to be the rest of his life. He pictured himself going from tunnel to tunnel—with occasional panic-filled rides in the arms of leaping Quel—until he came out of the other side of the world. Would that be the other continent? he wondered. Likely not. With his luck it would be the bottom of the middle of the sea.

He tried another spell at one point, a spell whose results would be for his eyes only if it did succeed, but the strange power that the Quel race controlled still held sway. Sorcery would not save him here; he would have to rely upon his mind and body.

When they came at last to yet another lit cavern, the warlock gave it only a cursory glance at first. It held only a few Quel, who darted this way and that or stood conversing near the center, and not much else. A few tunnels dotted the sides of this chamber.

There was a pause that dragged out much too long for Gerrod. He turned to his captor and, though he knew the creature understood him as well as the warlock understood a drake, asked, “Well? Which way?”

He nearly lost his composure when the guard looked down at him as if listening and then abruptly pointed toward the group clustered around the center of the chamber. It was pure coincidence, the Tezerenee told himself. The Quel could not possibly understand him; that had already been proven… hadn’t it?

A deep grunt from his companion warned him that he had a very short time limit within which to respond to its command. The needle spear that this one also carried emphasized more than that particular point.

As Gerrod stepped into the cavern chamber, the Quel within looked up from whatever they were doing and stared at him. Unlike those he had met so far, these eyed him more with an open curiosity than with contempt or hatred. Gerrod met the studious gaze of one and noted an intelligence there that was far above those who had brought him here.

The Quel conversed for several seconds, the sounds emitted by the sentry indicating the respect in which it held the others. When that was done, the one who had matched gazes with Gerrod stepped forward. It waved a paw at the warlock, who walked in cautious fashion toward it, his eyes constantly returning to the guard. Quite suddenly, Gerrod wanted to leave this place and return to the monotony of the tunnels or even the blood-coursing fear of a cavern crossing. He knew now that he had at last reached his destination.

As ever, the Quel seemed to take his responses with a touch of amusement. Dru Zeree’s short experience with the monsters had told the warlock little; most of the Quel the sorcerer had encountered had died shortly after in combat with a party of Seekers.

Would that I could trade places with you now, Master Zeree, Gerrod thought sourly.

Behind him, he heard the guard depart.

A host of Quel descended upon him before he was halfway to the one who had summoned him forward. The hooded Tezerenee buried himself in the confines of his cloak and cursed his inability to defend himself. Even a sword or ax would