How well that protection worked outside of this region was debatable.
The crystals had one more use that was no doubt planned by their users. They had a dizzying effect on those unused to them. Somehow, the Quel had identified him as a spellcaster; it might be that they had even spotted him coming into the Dragonrealm. Upon deciding to let him live, which had turned out to be the point of an unintelligible argument that had lasted more than a quarter hour, one of the armadillolike creatures had dragged him forward and thrust a particularly bright gem before his eyes. The blindness caused by the bright sunlight reflecting off of the gem had been temporary, but it had been accompanied by what he had taken at the time to be simple heat reflection. It had given him a headache, which he had thought of as a minor nuisance until he tried to clear his head. The concentration he needed was not there. Had he tried any serious escape attempt utilizing his abilities, it was just as likely he would have included himself in any attack on his captors.
The headache had vanished, but only so that the dizziness could replace it.
Another hour passed. The sun was on its downward arc, which, unfortunately, put it before the travelers. Am I to go permanently blind? he wondered. His companions were indifferent to his situation; they appeared to have a series of eyelids, all but the outermost one transparent to a certain point. The brighter it became, the darker their eyes appeared to grow as another lid slid into place. He wondered whether it was a natural ability or whether they had altered themselves much the way the Vraad had once.
A heavy hand-paw, as far as the disheveled Tezerenee was concerned-took hold of Gerrod’s arm and dragged him to a halt.
“What is it?” he snarled, both frightened and angry. He wanted to teach these overgrown beasts their place, but, to his misfortune, they already knew it. To them, he was the animal.
The one who had stopped him raised its battle-ax and pointed to one of the minor hills that had just cropped up to their right. Gerrod spent more time staring at the weapon than at yet another of the land’s unremarkable features. He had felt its weight more than once, usually when he was swatted with the flat of it, and knew that no human could have lifted it from the ground, much less used it in so casual a manner.
The Quel beside him hooted and pointed at the hill again. The Vraad started toward it, but was pulled back as if he weighed less than nothing. The Quel hooted again.
Gerrod shook his head, hoping that they understood by now that this was his way of saying he did not understand. The warlock had been shaking his head quite a bit in the past two days.
Frustrated, the massive creature prodded the earth and made his prisoner look down
Something was burrowing through the ground toward them.
He tried to back away, but the Quel held him. The burrowing form moved closer. Gerrod tried to formulate a spell, but the dizziness prevented him. His captors had brought him here to be sacrificed to some horror they worshiped. It had to be. Whether it killed him or not, he would have to try a spell… any spell!
A swat on the head put an end to that thought. His head pounded and his ears rang, all in addition to his ever-present impediment.
It burst forth, claws ready… and proved to be nothing more than another Quel, only larger than the others.
The warlock found himself falling before the newcomer, propelled there by the one who had taken his arm.
A snouted visage looked down upon him, contempt for his pathetic little form more than apparent. One head-sized paw reached toward him, claws bared, and Gerrod was almost certain he was about to breathe his last. Instead of crushing the warlock’s skull, an act that would certainly have required little exertion on the Quel’s part, the earth-digger took him by the collar and dragged him closer.
“Dragon’s blood!” he gasped. His shirt and cloak collars were pulled so tight that it was nearly impossible to draw air.
His new captor hooted several times to the other, who returned his noises with some of their own and then turned away. They were departing.
What now? the bedraggled Vraad wanted to know. Only one thing came to mind, but surely the armored monstrosity would not-
Gerrod in one hand, the Quel effortlessly began to burrow in the ground.
“No! I can’t! Stop!” He struggled to free himself, but his horrific keeper took no notice of his weak efforts. Visions of being buried alive shook Gerrod’s very being. The earth grew nearer and nearer; he might have been sinking in quicksand. Already, most of the Quel’s unsightly form was covered with dirt. Only the wrist and hand that held his captive were still visible.
The warlock took a deep breath and barely had time to hold it before his face met the ground. He shut his eyes and prayed that death would be quick.
Loose dirt tried to enter his nostrils. Gerrod could not move his hands forward and was forced to exhale through his nose in order to clear it. He began struggling for more air.
The Quel and he broke into a vast tunnel.
Light of a limited source allowed him some inspection of his surroundings. The dim glow came from several crystals lined along the tunnel wall. Those nearest were brightest. Gerrod tested the air-having no other choice by this time-and found it dry but breathable.
He was aware that this could hardly be the same tunnel that his present guardian had come from. Most likely, it stood some distance beneath or to the side of the one the Quel itself had burrowed. Why it had chosen to make a path of its own rather than take this one in the first place was a question Gerrod doubted the Quel would answer even if the two of them could understand one another’s language. Like Zeree’s Seekers, the earth dwellers had mind-sets much different than those of the Vraad. Perhaps this tunnel was specifically reserved for the transportation of surface creatures like himself.
Satisfied that his charge was in fair shape, the Quel pulled the Tezerenee to his feet. From somewhere a long, needlelike spear materialized. Gerrod could not recall seeing it before, but there had been no time for such unimportant observations until now.
The Quel pushed him ahead and leveled the spear. Gerrod understood his meaning and hastened to comply.
He had walked only a few yards when he began to sense the intense aura of sorcery all about him. Some feature about this place seemed to draw from the natural forces of the land. Gerrod was near a place of power, a well of magic of sorts. It was not merely the crystals in the walls; their only purpose seemed to be to light the portion of the tunnel where travelers happened to be. Still, Gerrod had enough knowledge of crystal sorcery to realize that the Quel might have other gemstones that gathered the raw energy of the world for their later manipulation. There were many things that could be achieved through that particular magic that normal Vraad sorcery-and possibly even Dragonrealm sorcery-could only struggle in vain to achieve.
If I can find those gemstones… There might yet be a way out of all of this, Gerrod decided.
It occurred to him than that he had not felt any dizziness since being brought to the tunnel.
He turned on the Quel, who froze and readied the spear, and cast a crude but deadly missile of fire at the creature.
The armadillolike horror hooted in derision.
Gerrod’s mouth hung open as he desperately tried another gambit. He could sense the power around him; why could he not cast even the simplest of spells?
Sufficiently amused, the Quel ceased hooting and jabbed at him with the spear, clearly desiring that the tiny, weak thing before it stop playing and keep walking. Gerrod did so, his resistance all but dead. Whatever caused power to gather here was drawing what he attempted to summon even before he could make use of it. The warlock was as helpless as ever. His only consolation lay in the fact that he no longer suffered from any dizziness.