one point or another. It appears that they were fighting among themselves.”
“Indeed?” Barakas stroked his beard and sank into deep thought. Lochivan, waiting for the sign to continue, absently scratched at his throat.
“We can ride right in and take over,” Reegan suggested with his usual lack of timing and thought. Sharissa almost felt sympathy for him.
The patriarch only shook his head. “Do not be absurd again. There have to be Seekers about. Not all of them would be so obliging as to flee or die for our sakes. If we had charged in, swords ready and magic flying, we would probably be dead now. This is still their domain for a time. They will defend it to their utmost.”
“We cannot stay here until we’ve rooted them all out of the rocks,” the heir protested. “That might take years.”
“That I agree with.” The Lord Tezerenee tapped the side of the shadow steed’s horrible prison as he pondered a decision. He ceased the tapping and eyed the box with new interest. “Perhaps there is a more efficient way.”
Sharissa urged her mount closer to the patriarch, her heart sinking as what Barakas might be plotting occurred to her. “Haven’t you put him through enough? Isn’t that box pain enough for him to endure?”
“This should be relatively painless, I think.”
“You know what I mean!”
“More lives will be saved by this in the long run, my dear Sharissa,” Barakas replied, his smile as false as his words. “At least… Tezerenee lives.”
He lifted the box so that it rested in one arm and ran his hand over it, repeating the same pattern he had earlier, albeit in such a manner that it could be performed with a single hand, not two. Sharissa could sense the bond that tied the Tezerenee lord to the spell and thus Darkhorse to him. She still had no idea how to free the ebony stallion from it, and that was what held her back from escape. Barakas was by no means an opponent she could hope to overcome by direct action. Only by biding her time would she have a chance—but when would that be? The sorceress had no intention of waiting until she was married and bearing the children of Reegan. The very thought stirred her to renewed determination. Perhaps at some point on this very expedition Sharissa would find a means of solving her troubles.
She could only hope.
Barakas lifted the lid.
A wave of darkness rushed forth, almost as if the patriarch had unleashed night upon day. Yet, this darkness screamed its pleasure and fear, screamed wordlessly as it slowly coalesced into the familiar form of Sharissa’s tormented friend.
“Movement! Sound! Sight! By the ungodly Void, I am free of it again! Free!”
A few of the Tezerenee shifted in nervousness, fully aware of what the overwhelming creature before them could do if allowed full will. Barakas and those of his sons who rode with the column sat in relaxed silence, fully confident in the patriarch’s hold on the eternal.
His initial thrill at being released from the torturous container abating, Darkhorse glared at his armored keeper. Even Lochivan, who now stood beside the drake his father rode, and Reegan found other things to contemplate rather than meet those cold eyes. Barakas, on the other hand, met them with the same commanding indifference that he met most other things with. He knew very well who held sway here, and all of the eternal’s staring would not lessen the truth of that.
“What do you want of me?” the shadow steed bellowed. His front hooves tore at the earth below. Sharissa did not doubt that he wished it was the clan master beneath those heavy hooves.
“I have a task for you, one that should prove simple considering your abilities.”
“Barakas, please don’t do this to him!” the sorceress called, her pride a forgotten thing in the importance of the moment.
The patriarch turned and studied her briefly. Although the dragonhelm hid most of his features, she could hear the disdain in his words. “Do not demean yourself, Lady Sharissa. A good warrior makes use of all weapons available to him, and I would be remiss if I did not use one of my greatest. He will ensure that no harm comes to you.”
“To her?” Darkhorse paused in his kicking. He looked from the patriarch to Sharissa. “What threatens her?”
“Nothing, Darkhorse! He—”
A gauntleted hand touched the lid of the box, causing the demon steed to freeze and Sharissa to quiet almost instantly. “She rides with us into the