Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol II - By Richard A. Knaak Page 0,375

yet another drake was not among those she would have chosen, but it was probably safer, relatively speaking. Materializing at the entrance of the cave system would, as Barakas had once pointed out, be an act of folly. The Seekers might be gone, but it was almost a certainty that they had left gifts of an unpleasant nature behind. There might even be more of them hidden in the caverns, although Lochivan’s surprisingly easy entrance during the first expedition seemed to indicate otherwise. Still, Sharissa could not help thinking that so much good luck must be a trap. It could hardly be this easy to take the aerie.

She found herself thinking that last statement again when the drakes began to land and nothing had touched them. Several warriors had landed before them and set up a line of defense, but they had nothing to show for their efforts. Not so much as one trap had been found—and the Tezerenee were nothing if not thorough when it came to their search. Ahead of them and pacing back and forth like an officer inspecting his troops, was Darkhorse. He glared at the coming Tezerenee, but would not even blink in Sharissa’s direction. Whether he was still ashamed to be in her presence or whether he was merely bitter about the offhand way his hated master was utilizing him was impossible to say at this point. Knowing Darkhorse as she did, it could have been both.

“I like this not,” Reegan muttered, but no one paid him heed save for the captives.

They dismounted and stood before their goal. Several guards rushed over to take their mounts. Only the initial party would fly up here. Other Tezerenee were already making their way up the winding, treacherous paths that had been cut into the rock long ago by some forgotten race but had fallen into disuse with time.

“Do we take the elf?” one of the figures nearest to Barakas asked, his every word and movement showing deference. Sharissa could not recall which of his offspring had come on the journey, but this had to be one of them.

“Of course, fool! Why bring his carcass along if not to make use of it!” Reegan growled.

The patriarch nodded, allowing his eldest’s outburst to go by without reprimand—this time. “Undo his feet, but see that his arms remain bound behind him.” Barakas smiled as he admired the height of the cavern maw. “I see no reason why we cannot proceed.”

He marched forward without any other preamble, catching many of his people by surprise. Lochivan snapped his fingers in Darkhorse’s direction, and the shadow steed, evidently knowing what was required of him, trotted close but not too close to the patriarch’s left side, matching his pace. Reegan and Lochivan followed and were in turn succeeded by the rest. The heir apparent paused only to signal two guards to lead Sharissa up to where he was. Faunon was also steered toward the front of the party, but closer to Barakas, which prevented the sorceress and the elf from even looking one another in the eye.

“Light,” Barakas requested with the tone of one who knows he will receive whatever he desires.

One of his faceless sons raised a hand palm upward. From his palm, tiny spheres of flame leaped to life. One after the other, they departed their birthplace and took up residence in the air above the party.

When a full dozen of the dancing elementals floated around their heads, the patriarch ordered a halt to their creation. The light bearer closed his hand, smothering a tiny sphere just bursting into being. Sharissa knew the balls were not alive, but could not help thinking of the act as akin to a nasty child crushing a butterfly in his hands. Tezerenee, like many Vraad, cared little for the tiny things in life. Such deaths were inconsequential.

“Dragon’s blood!” The stunned oath, considering what lay before them, would have seemed insufficient save that it came from the patriarch, the one among them least inclined to such shock. As for the rest of them, Sharissa herself included, they could only marvel at what the light revealed.

The cavern radiated history. It was not so much something to be seen as felt. The incredible age of the place could not be denied. Perhaps the ruined city and pocket-universe citadel of the founders held more specific knowledge, but those places dealt more with the original race itself. This citadel within a cavern, on the other hand, was a tapestry of