Legends of the Dragonrealm: Shade (28 page)

“And this . . .” The enchantress indicated the landscape. “This is another of those?”

The hooded spellcaster frowned. “No. I think this place has another particular purpose. No wonder I could never find the tower. It was in front of me all the time, just
not
.”

Talk of Nimth brought back a subject that he had tried to forget since their arrival: the dread specter that had briefly animated the Dragon King’s skeleton. Shade shivered. Other than his father, it had probably been the last creature that he would have ever wanted to see again.

Valea noticed his mood. “You refused to tell me what that thing out there was. Will you now?”

The warlock shrugged. Why not? She must learn all the awful truth about you, if you hope to finally have her see sense and forget her storybook dreams . . .


That
was my brother.”

It said something of her own upbringing that she did not look at him as if he were mad. She was willing to listen.

“That was Reegan. A part of his ka, that is. The Lords of the Dead must have held on to it at all costs, even when their power was at its weakest. They must have held on to it just for me one day.”

“Reegan, your brother?”

“The eldest. The heir. My dear father reborn, but without the subtlety. Also, the first in the line of the Dragon Emperors.”

Now she started. “I’d forgotten that you said the first Dragon Kings were your brothers.”

“They lost their memories when they transformed, which was perhaps for the best. I know they lost them, because I sought out a couple who had once been . . . 
cordial
with me, at least. They tried to eat me, which was extreme even for them.” Shade attempted to peer over the next hill but could only see the mountains, which seemed to be approaching faster than their pace warranted.
And yet, the sun still does not move.

“Horrible! But Reegan was himself when he came for you!”

“Apparently death gave him that much back, though it did nothing good for his temper.”

A shadow passed over them. Even though both looked up quickly, neither could see any sign of what had made that shadow.

“Reegan,” Valea muttered.

“No. I thought it was him but evidently there was something
else
nearby. It may explain why we’ve yet to find the drake lord.”

“And Darkhorse.” She briefly closed her eyes. “I don’t sense it anywhere. What could it be?”

“A guardian, per—per—” Shade lost focus. He stumbled toward Valea.

As she caught him, he heard a sharp inhalation from her. With effort, Shade brought his hand into view.

It was faded.

“Your face!” Valea said. “It’s—I can barely make it out!”

Struggling, the sorcerer pulled the medallion free.

The stones were black.

Pulling away from Valea, Shade stared in horror at the Crystal Dragon’s creation. There was not even the least trace of magic left in it, something that had not happened during the prior troubles with the talisman.

She stepped close. “Is there anything you can do?”

“The stones have been corrupted. Something has altered their very essence!” He glanced to the sky, where the sun still hung in the same place. “It must be because of whatever passed over us.” A wave of pain washed over him, preventing Shade from saying more.

“Let me help you!” Valea guided him to a rock, where he sat.

Shade concentrated. Not only did he need to literally keep himself together, but a part of his soul felt as if it was turning in a direction he did not like. The sorcerer fought down an urge to strike out at Valea for being of no use to him in repairing the damned medallion.

The foul urge faded while at the same time his hand solidified. Shade did not bother to ask the enchantress about his face, for all he
had to do was look at her to see that his features were once again an accursed blur.

“I’m so sorry.” Valea touched his arm.

“I will . . . survive . . . I always do . . .”
Not true!
he reminded himself.
You usually die at some point!

Still, he kept up the facade of confidence. Rising, he pressed on, Valea at his side.

The mountains continued to move toward them—that was the best way Shade could describe the sensation—at an almost frantic pace. What had once been on the horizon now loomed over them.

And the accursed sun remained where it was . . . until, without warning, they found themselves in the midst of night.

The enchantress bumped against him. “What just happened?”

“Something not at all surprising, considering this place,” he replied.

Something moved at the edge of his senses. Despite that, he recognized it all too well.

“He entered with us!” Shade shouted. “Hurry!”

Relying on memory alone, he pulled her toward a ravine. It was a great risk, but he relied on his knowledge of Reegan’s hunting pattern. Reegan was a creature of habit, even as a spirit. He had stalked his prey, staying beyond their touch until just the right moment. The founders’ odd world had finally given him just that.

A rumble from the direction from which they had come warned him of his brother’s attack just before it happened. Dirt and rock came tumbling toward them, made the worse by the fact that they could barely see any of the avalanche.

“Take my hand!” ordered Valea, surprising Shade enough that he obeyed without thinking.

He felt a surge of energy from her as she fed her own efforts into his. Understanding and appreciating her trust, Shade cast.

A blue wall of energy spread out before them. It not only held the avalanche at bay, but its magical illumination also brought into terrible focus the cause of that avalanche.

The shimmering blue behemoth still resembled the most terrible of dragons, but this time one of flesh. Gold hints radiated through the blue energy.

Little brother . . .

Shade did not react. He felt a tensing from Valea and knew that she, too, had heard the voice.

“You are dead and gone, Reegan!” he cried to the phantasm. “As dead as all our kind!”
Myself as well,
Shade added to himself. “Begone!”

Not until I have some proper Vraad bones to wear . . .

Cabe’s daughter understood. “He wants your body!”

“A poor thing it will be to him.” Still, despite all that was happening to the sorcerer’s body, he had no desire to give it up just yet, especially to his eldest and most sinister brother.

Reegan surged forward, the avalanche coming with him. Shade was forced to draw even more upon Valea. Even then, he felt his physical being losing cohesion.

“Drop!” Shade commanded. As the two of them fell, the hooded sorcerer adjusted the spell so that it carried both the avalanche and his brother far past them.

Reegan’s roar of anger faded as the phantasm flew far beyond. A few small rocks pelted the pair, but the rest of the attack missed.

Shade pulled Valea up. “We must try to teleport!”

He felt her agreement and the surge of energy flowing from her to him. He focused.

They materialized in what could have been the same spot save that there was no hint of Reegan when Shade searched with his senses.

Very good, little brother . . .

Reegan punctuated his remark with the harsh laugh that remained burned into Shade’s memory after millennia. In the dark, the phantasm seemed to be nowhere and everywhere.

Valea drew a circle. The circle rapidly swelled in size. It split into a dozen circles as it grew. Those circles shot forth in a dozen directions.

And in one of those directions, a circle passed through Reegan,

revealing now in ghostly gold the dragon the heir to Clan Tezerenee had become.

She’s a pretty one!
Reegan jested.

Not bothering to answer, Shade seized control of her spell, bringing the circle back. As it passed over Reegan again, it adhered to his damned spirit.

The dragon roared angrily. Reegan glowed a brighter gold and the circle began to deteriorate.

Agony wracked Shade, but it was not part of Reegan’s attack. The stricken warlock did not have to be able to see his hand to know that he was more likely to dissolve now than his brother was.

At least—at least he will not have my body!
Yet, Shade knew that Valea would still not be safe. Reegan never gave up a hunt until
all
his prey was down.

It’s been so good to see my brothers, but now it ends for you, little Gerrod!
jested the dragon.
I’ll wear you well . . .

Shade found he was far less concerned with himself—perhaps having failed so many times had taken its toll—but he knew that Reegan would not let Valea be. A Vraad was raised to assume that anything he could take, even by force, was his, and that included other,
lesser
creatures. More to the point, Reegan had been raised as the heir to his father, the worst of the Vraad that Shade could think of.

Straightening, he faced the fiendish spirit. “Gerrod is no more already!” the hooded sorcerer shouted defiantly. “There is only a soul more damned than yours!”

Forcefully breaking the link with Valea in order to ensure that she was not caught up in his spell, Shade threw all that was left in him at Reegan.

A gargantuan, bearded warrior materialized before the dragon. Reegan recoiled as the warrior, the same one the warlock had once shown to Valea, grinned savagely at him.

No one forgets Father . . . ,
Shade thought wryly. However, the image was only designed to disconcert the spirit and enable Shade to launch his
true attack. He drew a pair of arrows in the air; they became bolts of black energy that shot toward his brother.

But Reegan recovered faster than expected. He managed to twist and thus evade one of the bolts. The second struck a wing.

Despite being incorporeal, the spirit roared in pain as the bolt shot through, and the black energies spread along the wound, soon covering most of the wing.

My little brother’s found a spine!
Despite the crackling wound, Reegan once more dove for Shade. The warlock’s body would provide him with an escape from the pain.

Valea suddenly stood between them. “Keep away from him!”

She unleashed an emerald net that clung to the dragon. Unfortunately, although it clearly pained him, too, Reegan did not slow.

One chance . . . I have one chance . . .
Shade formed a fist from his fading hands. If his magic could not stop the phantasm, perhaps the sacrifice of his very essence would be sufficient. It would be a better end for him, at least, if it saved Valea.

A wondrous, shimmering light filled the area but especially focused on the specter. Reegan’s agonized roar now dwarfed those previous. Fragments of the dragon literally crumbled away as the iridescence bathed the fiend.

Iridescence. Shade struggled to turn. The source of the light could not be seen, but he felt certain that it could have come from only one thing.

Reegan shrieked. The dragon twisted in on itself as more and more of it broke away and dissolved.
Nooo! I will have both of you—

The last of the insidious spirit disintegrated. Shade felt rather than heard Reegan’s last mournful wail. Even then, he felt no sympathy.

Stay dead now, Reegan. Just stay dead . . .

Adrenaline had driven Shade as much as anything else and now, with the threat no more, the sorcerer felt his body giving out. He could see through both hands and knew that the rest of his body had to be fading as well. The world began to spin around.

“Shade!” Valea took hold of him.

I will slip right through her,
the featureless sorcerer thought.
I will slip through her and dissipate not much differently than Reegan . . .

“Come with me! Hold on! Come with me!”

He was grateful for her determination, even if it was for nothing. Still, to make her feel better, Shade allowed her to lead him on.

How long the journey took, the weakening sorcerer could not say. He only knew that at some point they were both bathed in a softer variation of the iridescence that had destroyed Reegan.

I will dissolve now . . .
But instead of sharing his brother’s fate, Shade slowly began to feel more solidity. The haziness in his mind receded.

His vision focused again. He eyed his hands, once more solid.

“The stone did it,” whispered Valea in his ear. “He was right. At least for now, you’re in balance again.”

He was right.

The Crystal Dragon. She meant the Crystal Dragon.
I know his secret now,
Shade thought as his senses sharpened. Following an urge, he blurted out, “I know your
secret
!”

He waited for the Dragon King’s reply, but there was none. Instead, Shade finally noticed the stone . . . the stone that was lying on the ground.

The stone that was lying on the ground next to the unmoving body of the drake lord.

“I understand,” the enchantress replied to someone the sorcerer evidently did not hear. Apparently satisfied that he was well enough to stand alone, Valea left Shade and bent down to retrieve the stone.

“He lives,” she said of the Crystal Dragon at the same time. “I think he’s been like that for some time.”

“But not when he first entered. He stayed conscious and moved on, seeking our goal.” Shade studied the sprawled form. Had his features been distinct, he knew that Valea might have seen the satisfied smile that briefly crept there upon seeing the results of the drake’s arrogance.

Then what Valea had been saying earlier finally registered in him. “Who has been talking with you? Who guided you?”

Valea did not answer. She held the stone with awe but also with confidence. With her other hand, she gestured toward the Crystal Dragon.

At first, it looked as if she sought to levitate the body, but then Shade saw a tiny speck fly from the Crystal Dragon. As it escaped, it grew into an object familiar at least to the sorcerer, for it had the stench of the Vraad on it.

The tiny container shattered and a black blob flowed free. It poured to the ground in four spots and created columns that shaped into legs attached to a massive torso, out of which formed a thick tail and a strong, equine head.

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