Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol II - By Richard A. Knaak Page 0,392

the confines of his cloak, giving him the appearance of a living shroud.

Somehow, the guardian made the eyes narrow, though they were only bits of stone surrounding glowing balls of fiery earth. We did not sense the renegade, for it had shielded itself well, but, with so much of its power already in demand, it could not sufficiently shield the presence of so much Nimthian sorcery.

“Then Gerrod actually did you a service,” Sharissa interjected, fearing that the warlock might still face some punishment.

The dragon head withdrew. Not by choice… but because of the magnitude of the outcast’s crime, the warlock is forgiven… for now.

Glancing at Gerrod, the sorceress’s relief gave way to renewed worry. From what she could read in his stance and his shadowed features, the patriarch’s son was not defeated. He would attempt, someday, to reestablish his link.

My time grows short, and there is much to do. I will take you from here and place you where you must be.

She was not certain she understood what the guardian meant, but decided to trust its judgment. It had befriended her father, after all. Instead, she asked, “What became of the outcast?”

That one has evaded us for the moment… but it will eventually be taught the folly of its ways.

Knowing how time meant little to these virtually immortal creatures, Sharissa wondered what damage the renegade would cause before that. She decided not to ask.

“And my clan? What about them?” The warlock walked closer, defying the entity who had stripped him of so much power. “What about the insanity your counterpart plotted for them?”

The long hesitation stirred the curiosity of all three. The Dragon of the Depths seemed to be considering its response carefully, as if even it was uncertain it cared for the answer. Sharissa walked over to where Gerrod stood and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off, not even looking her way. More hurt than she cared to consider, the young woman returned to Faunon, who tried to smile in sympathy but failed.

The land will do what it chooses to do, and I will abide by that decision.

“That is no answer!” the angry Tezerenee shouted.

It is the only answer. It is the sum of my existence. If the land finds some use in the renegade’s actions, which will still not excuse that one, then the experiment will follow that new path. If not, the land, not I, will choose to reverse what was done.

“But the renegade interfered with the experiment! If what it said was true, it even dared to subdue the mind of the land!”

All true and all irrelevant now. Before their eyes, the mock dragon began to crumble. A wing collapsed and the lower jaw dropped to the cavern floor and shattered. Despite the din, the voice was still very clear in their minds. The land will decide… but you have a choice in the matter. I tell this to you, Sharissa Zeree, because of the respect with which I hold your progenitor. Whatever changes are wrought upon your kind, those who fight them will only succumb that much more harshly. You have a choice in how you are adapted to this world. The elf is proof of that. His kind have remained more or less untouched.

The three stumbled back as the body collapsed and the magma receded down the hole it had spewed forth from.

And now, I will take you to where you must be.

“What do you mean ‘must be’?” Faunon, who had stayed silent most of the time, shouted at the last moment. Understanding his sudden worry, Sharissa would have lent her voice to his—but the cavern and the guardian had vanished and they were now elsewhere.

“Well,” came a familiar voice, one that hinted at no sleep for days and terrible stress suffered during those waking hours. Any arrogance was little more than mockery now. “Welcome back… and you, too, my son.”

Elsewhere was the main cavern that Sharissa and Faunon had been plucked away from by the mad guardian. The voice belonged to the patriarch, who sat upon a high-backed throne now standing atop the dais and looked down at the three stunned gifts that had been placed before him.

XVIII

“IMUST ADMIT that I had not thought to see you—any of you—again since your escape, what is it, five days ago?”

“Five days?” Faunon leaned his head toward Sharissa’s. “We were not down there more than an hour!”

“So we thought, but the first guardian hinted that we might have been talking longer