now listening in rapt attention. The anger had vanished, replaced by concern—concern for her husband and children.
“Now I have your attention! Good! It should have been obvious to you, Lady of the Amber, that if I’ve returned, then so has Shade! Our faceless comrade is worse than I can ever recall seeing him! Something in the spell that tore us from our exile has caused a reversion! Shade has been as a man gone truly mad, with personalities vying each time I’ve met him! I fear he is returning to his original mind-set—and I fear it may be the worst of all!”
Gwen sat down, her hands rubbing together tightly. “I owe you an apology, then. If what you say is true—”
“There is worse! I have sorely underestimated the age of my onetime comrade! If I am correct, a Vraad sorcerer walks among us again!”
The name meant nothing to Cabe, though he carried within him some of the memories of his grandfather, who had studied the ancient races thoroughly. Gwen, on the other hand, turned pale and spat out an epithet concerning the shadowy warlock that made her husband look at her in mild shock.
“What’s a Vraad sorcerer? Is he different from us?”
Lady Bedlam nodded slowly. Her jaw set tight as she looked at Darkhorse. “We’ve heard nothing out of the ordinary from the northern lands. The only reports that reach us concern the fact that Melicard is supposed to marry some princess from the west. I pity the woman.”
“They are a fair match, witch. She may be his salvation. She is also a latent sorceress.”
Cabe put a hand on his wife’s shoulder. She reached up and placed her own on his. The warlock smiled sadly, as if acknowledging the end of a beautiful time. “You seem to know quite a bit, Darkhorse. Maybe you could tell us how you know so much.”
He did. Drayfitt’s abilities came as no surprise to Cabe, though the elder’s actions in the name of his king did. Cabe had only met the man briefly, but he had come to respect him. Both spellcasters knew of Melicard’s crusade and his overzealous advisor, Mal Quorin, but spies had reported nothing except the usual raids, though those had become fewer in the last couple years.
Of Shade and the plots of the Silver Dragon, they knew nothing, and what Darkhorse conveyed to them stunned both Bedlams. To Lady Gwen, it was the culmination of fears she had always harbored about the hooded warlock; to Cabe, it was a tragic conclusion to someone he had both befriended and pitied. That the true Shade might be a less than savory being saddened him further.
“I’d always assumed he was a basically decent man behind that curse.”
“A fairy tale! This is true life! Shade is a Vraad and, with few exceptions, they were arrogant and amoral! The world did not weep at their passing, so I’m given to understand! It amazes me that you and yours could be descendents of their kind.”
“Cabe.” Gwen squeezed his hand tight. “If all he says is true—”
“I would not—”
She cut him off. “As all he says must be true, then we have been purposely led astray. Someone has been lulling us into a false sense of security.”
The warlock nodded. “The Silver Dragon or Melicard; more likely it’s his counselor, Quorin. I wonder if the lord of Dagora knows anything. He’s been extremely quiet himself.”
Growing unsettled, Darkhorse stamped the ground with his hoof. The words that fled his mouth had almost become an automatic ritual. “I was a fool! I should have come to you the moment freedom was mine! It may already be too late!”
Cabe grimaced. “It doesn’t do any good to continually condemn yourself; I did that enough to know. What we have to do now is contact the Green Dragon and, with his aid, discover why there seems to be a curtain of silence between us and the north. You said that there may be a pact between the Dragon King Silver and Shade. Do you have any idea what that pact might entail?”
“I suspect part of it might have to do with a book—Shade’s notes on his vile spells—but that book is dust, thanks to me. Without it, Shade will have to plan from scratch. At one point, he seemed to recall everything, but I think that must have proved a temporary state, else why his search?”
“Then you think he plans to recreate the original spell—but why if the curse is lifted?”
“It may not