Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol II - By Richard A. Knaak Page 0,436

something solid.

Morgis bent down and felt for the obstruction with his free hand—then pulled the hand away when it immediately touched a hard yet ominously-moist surface.

A body.

V

HIS FIRST REACTION was to think of Kalena, but then common sense reminded him of the hard shell he had felt. His estimation of the cat woman grew by leaps and bounds. Now she had managed to slay yet another of their foes.

But that still did not answer the question of where she was now.

Wiping his hand as best he could, Morgis stepped beyond the body, seeking the source of the wind. He found it a few seconds later, a wide, shaded window opening into the pitch-black night. Again it struck him that the room was uncommonly dark, for the window, despite the decrepit shade, should have been obvious.

Pushing it open, the drake peered down, seeking some sign of Kalena.

Only then did he hear movement behind him.

“Leoni—”

“Die, monster!” roared a voice on the edge of insanity. “Die, damn you!”

An armored body struck Morgis with such force that the scaled knight tumbled out the window. As he fell, though, he reached back to grab something, anything—and took his attacker with him.

Morgis’s sense of direction vanished utterly. He heard the Aramite cry out. One arm struck stone and with what strength he could muster, Morgis seized a jutting piece and held on.

He swung back and forth like some mad pendulum, the strain on his shoulder almost too much. Desperately he reached with his other hand, trying to find some hold there. In his present form, he was subject to many of the risks of humans. A fall from this height might not kill him, but it would certainly shatter his bones.

From below came a harsh thud.

Spurred on by the wolf raider’s fate, Morgis finally located something for his other hand to grab. Still dangling, he tried to judge whether he had better hopes of climbing up or down.

The stone he had first seized made his decision for him, abruptly crumbling. Caught offguard, Morgis nearly plunged to his death. Instead, what remaining grip he had with his other hand gave him just enough time to locate another hold lower down.

Brute strength and luck had saved him so far, but the drake had no intention of trusting either to last much longer. Finding some stable if still precarious footing, he lowered his other hand and, with a force no human could have mustered, dug his fingers into the aged wall of the structure.

Repeating this risky act, Morgis managed to climb down more than half the distance to the ground. Each moment he expected either Leonin or the Aramites to find him, but the area was eerily silent.

When at last he could find no more handholds or footing, Morgis peered down again, trying to make out what lay below. Outside, he could see a little better, enough to at least let him judge the gap. The fall could still kill or maim him, but if he managed to position himself right, he might survive with only a few bruised bones.

Not satisfied, he scanned the darkness for a better landing place. Just beyond the rocky area where the Aramite had fallen, Morgis noted what looked like a softer, shrub-covered region. If he pushed himself hard, then tightened for impact, it might save him from any shattered limbs.

Might.

Little choice remained. The fact that neither Leonin nor Kalena had come in search of him worried Morgis. The sooner he rescued himself, the sooner he could do what he could for them.

“I ssswear I will make you pay for thisss, keeper!” the drake hissed. If not for D’Kairn’s spell, he would not have had to suffer this indignity.

Bracing himself, Morgis pushed off the stone wall.

He fell much faster than he had expected, the black ground rushing up to greet him. Barely had the drake folded himself into survival position when he collided.

Despite his best efforts, Morgis could not keep a cry from escaping him. Every nerve, every bone, vibrated with such intensity that he was certain that he had broken all of the latter.

Then a shrieking pain in his right shoulder and a savage cracking sound left him bereft of any conscious thought. Morgis rolled and rolled, unable to stop himself. He struck rocks, dead shrubs, and rotting trees. Each renewed the agony.

He came to rest at the bottom of a gully, where he lay for several moments. His head pounded mercilessly and when Morgis tried to move the one shoulder, he had