Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol II - By Richard A. Knaak Page 0,55

to control!”

“You are quite a gambler, evidently. I doubt if I would have done the same as you.” With great deliberation, the warlock sat casually down on the throne. The drake who had reported to the would-be emperor hissed and bared his claws. Shade looked him over.

“One of your get?”

“What of it, human?” the defiant warrior hissed.

“He bears no markings,” the hooded figure commented to his ally, ignoring the growing anger of the younger drake.

“What if I do not?”

The warlock finally seemed to notice him again. “Just so I know that I’ve eliminated nothing of importance.”

The furious drake reached for him, then hissed in consternation as a great, black hole materialized in his stomach. While the rest of the drakes—unable to keep from looking despite their master’s earlier glare—watched in horror, the hole expanded. The hapless victim, in a state of insane calm, put one hand into the gaping maw, unable to believe his eyes.

The hand and the arm were sucked in.

In less than a breath, the shoulders, head, and remaining arm followed after and, when they, too, were gone, the torso and legs vanished into the hole. A single black spot remained floating in the air for a second or two, then vanished, seeming to swallow itself.

Shade glanced in the direction of the Dragon King. “You’ve desired the power of the Vraad; that was a taste of what we could do.”

“Am I next?”

“I was under the impression we had an alliance of sorts.” The warlock leaned forward. “Don’t we?”

“You recalled the book. That wasss why you returned to me. The book—your book—was destroyed. I assumed you had no further need to pursue our alliance and so I have moved on with my plansss.”

“Subjugation and/or destruction of Talak. I remember. I would think it simple with the king’s counselor at your beck and call.”

“Nothing is simple except the belief in simplicity.”

Rising, Shade straightened his cloak. “Continue with your plans. They coincide with my needs. There is only one thing you must remember.”

“That is?”

“The sorcerer Drayfitt must not be harmed. I’ve need of him.”

A wary look passed across the drake lord’s half-hidden face. “Quorin’s followers are to assassinate him—soon—while he travels with the army. What need do you have for a human spellcaster with little more than adequate ability?”

“It’s not his abilities as a sorcerer that I want. It’s his mind. You did say he set out to translate the entire book, didn’t you?”

“So?”

Shade sighed, wondering how this creature could miss the obvious. “Never mind. Return to your plans.”

“But your part of the bargain—”

“That?” The warlock smiled, a shadowy line slightly bent upward on each end. There was something dreadfully cold about his smiles, Silver thought.

“Neither Darkhorse nor the Bedlams will interfere. You may rest assured on that. They will be too busy with other, weightier matters.” That said, the warlock curled within himself and vanished.

Almost the Dragon King felt sympathy for the warlock’s adversaries—almost.

ANOTHER DAY HAD passed and Darkhorse once more studied the cracks of the chamber walls. Studied them while his mind sank deeper into a bottomless abyss.

Failure. Utter failure.

Darkhorse looked again at the chamber that was his world and would be his world for some time to come, apparently. His one hope had been crushed—and at the moment of greatest potential.

The human female called Erini, Melicard’s betrothed—now there was irony—was a natural spellcaster of high potential, possibly as high as Cabe Bedlam or the Lady Gwen. She had noticed the fragment of self although even Drayfitt had not. In the last moment of vision, he had seen how her hands itched to reach out to the powers, manipulate them. The female was stifling those powers, though; that much he had seen as well. If that were the case, he would receive little aid from her. Likely, she had not even told Melicard her secret.

His thoughts were interrupted by the unlocking of the door. That made him chuckle in sour humor; who would want to come in and what would they do once they were here? If it was not to keep someone out, what other reason was there for locking the door? Darkhorse would have been as secure if the entire palace had been leveled. Even then, the barrier enclosing him would have stood.

The door swung open and Melicard himself, accompanied by his foul shadow, Quorin, and the pitiful mage, Drayfitt, entered. There was something different about the king, a humanity that had blossomed almost overnight. It was not complete humanity, not by far, but a great touch