“Don’t fight me, Zeree!” Gerrod hissed. “Think for a change!”
Sharissa ignored him and continued to struggle. With great effort, she twisted her right hand free and unleashed the quickest, simplest spell that might serve her against her would-be attacker.
The Tezerenee lost control as a brilliant flash blinded him. Sharissa pulled away immediately. She had to find Melenea. The enchantress would be more of a match for the hooded kidnapper. Sharissa knew that her odds against Gerrod could only worsen if she continued to battle him alone.
Leaving, however, proved far more difficult than she had hoped. Cabal’s huge frame blocked the doorway, and in its combat with Sirvak, it was not unlikely that the beast would accidentally crush her.
“The dragon take you, you stupid-” Gerrod’s hood had fallen back and the anger Sharissa read on his patrician visage urged her to take her chances with the doorway.
“Mistress! No! Listen to Sirvak!”
The imploring tone made her pause and she looked up at her father’s familiar… only to watch in horror as the winged creature, evidently caught up in its concern for her, forgot its own safety.
Cabal’s mighty jaws caught the smaller familiar’s right foreleg. The blue-green wolf bit hard. Sirvak shrieked in agony and quickly pulled away.
The tattered remnants of Sirvak’s leg hung uselessly. Cabal laughed and swallowed the limb.
“Good meat,” it rumbled. “Come and let me taste more.”
“You will taste your own blood!” Sirvak howled back. The wounded animal started to shimmer, a sign that it was about to make use of its own sorcery.
“Sirvak! No!” Gerrod ceased his assault on Sharissa, though she made no use of the advantage, also caught up in the struggle of the two familiars.
Cabal, meanwhile, was preparing its own magical attack. The lupine form wavered, as if not quite real. Two forces stretched out and met between the beasts. Being constructs, the familiars used the most basic sorceries in attack. Basic, but very, very dangerous. Sharissa knew that Sirvak was capable of destroying a good portion of Melenea’s home and assumed that Cabal was of at least equal ability. Despite her belief that her father’s creation now obeyed a new master, she could not help fearing for it. Wounded, Sirvak might not be a match for Melenea’s creature.
Her hesitation cost Sharissa her freedom. Gerrod caught her again, this time in a grip she knew would be unbreakable. He pulled her head back so that she was forced to look him in the eye. “Despite yourself, Zeree, we are going to save you from that witch you think is your friend! Did your father never tell you about why he demanded she never see either of you again?”
“I neither know nor care what you’re talking about!” Sharissa tried to spit in the Tezerenee’s face, but he turned her head away in time.
“You will… someday!”
“What have we here? Cabal! How did they get inside so easily?”
“Melenea!” Gerrod snarled under his breath, disgust emphasized in each syllable of the beautiful enchantress’s name.
At its mistress’s appearance, the huge familiar backed away. Its breath came in harsh gasps, as if its sorcerous battle had taken a toll not noticeable until now. Sirvak, too, looked fatigued, Sharissa noted, but that might have been from the wound that, while sealed by the winged familiar’s own powers, still must have pained it dearly.
“I’ll thank you to release my guest, Tezerenee.”
“And leave her to you? I think not. Even a naive fool like this deserves better than your tender care!”
The stunning sorceress laughed, a melodious sound that, had he not known her reputation so well, might have lessened Gerrod’s guard. “And she should trust your care? I think Sharissa knows who her friends are.” Clad in a glistening silk robe that did nothing to hide her body, Melenea strode toward Cabal, placing an arm around the blue-green wolf’s neck. “I’ve only done my best for her. I’m probably the only one who can save her father.”
“Did you find something?” Even with Gerrod’s arm around her, Sharissa forgot her predicament as visions of her father’s rescue blossomed in her mind.
“I most certainly did, Shari sweet.”
“Don’t listen to her!” the hooded figure whispered in frantic tones. “The only thing she has waiting for you is a slow and painful death after she’s done toying with you! Ask Sirvak what she’s like!”
“Ask away! Shari knows that you control the poor beast.” Melenea’s visage expressed her deep pity for Sirvak’s fate. “I’m afraid you can probably never trust the familiar again. It will have to be destroyed, I imagine.”
Sirvak squawked. “No, mistress! Sirvak is good! Sirvak wants only to protect you!”
With a speed worthy of Sharissa’s swiftest steed, Melenea reached out and pointed at the flying familiar. Sirvak shrieked in agony and started to glow blue. Sharissa gasped and struggled with renewed urgency.
“I’ll regret this; I know I will!” she heard Gerrod mutter. Suddenly she was being pushed aside by the warlock, who pointed at the writhing black and gold familiar and mouthed something. Sharissa fell against the couch she had been sleeping on and stared in amazement as Gerrod actually worked to save Sirvak’s existence. There was no reason why he should do so. Whatever knowledge her father’s creation carried could have easily been supplied by his notes, which the Tezerenee surely had access to.
“Cabal!”
At the mention of its name by its mistress, the hulking figure charged directly toward the shrouded Vraad. Caught off guard, Gerrod tried to shield himself. Sharissa, for reasons not entirely clear to her, struck even as the monstrous familiar leaped into the air, jaws wide open.
As if caught by a net that was not there, Cabal stopped in midair, struggled futilely with the nothingness surrounding it, and finally fell to the floor with a howl of frustration and pain.
The citadel shook.
“I knew it!” Gerrod stumbled toward her, trying to reach out. Sharissa remained where she was, her thoughts in turmoil. She still trusted Melenea, but the young Tezerenee’s nearly suicidal rescue of Sirvak, who could serve him no useful purpose, touched her. If there was a grain of truth in anything he had told her…
“What have you done, Tezerenee?” demanded Melenea. She fell against Cabal. The familiar somehow succeeded in regaining and then maintaining its balance, unlike Sharissa, who rolled helplessly on the carpet as the building trembled again and again.
“I only added to an overfilled pot, witch!” He groped for Sharissa, but she succeeded in steering herself away.
Though Melenea failed to understand, Sharissa did. She realized that this stronghold sat near an area that had grown unstable. Her companion had continually utilized her sorcery as if nothing had changed, as if the Vraad were still in full command of Nimth. Gerrod must have known what an effect such a concentration of power would have and how this battle would only serve to aggravate things. It was unlikely that he could have predicted the tremors so precisely, but the clever Tezerenee had probably researched her father’s work enough to know that the potential for some disaster was high.
Above her, Sirvak hovered. The beaked familiar’s wings beat slowly, barely enough to keep the creature aloft. Sirvak appeared not to notice, evidently still more concerned with its mistress and her safety than its own magical existence. “Mistressss! Are you injured?”
“No, Sirvak, I’m not!” Its concern was so genuine she could no longer believe the familiar was a puppet of Gerrod. Either Sirvak had broken free of whatever spell the shadowy Vraad had cast upon it, or it had never been under a spell at all. If the latter was the case, then much of what Melenea had said became questionable.