“There is no need for that.”
His voice, for all its deep rumble, was meek and abashed. Darkhorse stared at the ground beneath him, unwilling to look at those before-especially her. Sharissa shook her head, and tears ran down her cheeks.
“I will find these Seekers for you… and eliminate their threat.”
A beatific smile crossed the patriarch’s half-hidden visage. “Thank you. I see no reason why you cannot begin now. Do you?” He pointed at the mountains far ahead. “I want you to search there, near our destination. Search the northern region until I summon you back.”
Darkhorse shook his head, sending his mane flying. He seemed taken aback by something. “But that leaves-”
“I have given you your task. I want it performed as I said. No rebellion. Nothing will happen to anyone here if you obey me to the letter. I promise you that.”
The demon steed snorted. “You are more foul than anything spawned among the endless realms I crossed during my now-regretted search for this accursed world.”
“Yes, we must talk of those places when this realm is secured. Now, go!”
Darkhorse dipped his head in a mocking salute. “I am your servant, dragon-lord.”
Rearing, the ebony stallion turned and raced off. Sharissa watched the receding figure, then turned to Faunon for support. The elf wore a dour look. He did not seem that sympathetic to Darkhorse’s plight.
“Faunon, I-”
“They died because of him. That is what he said.”
“It was his doing!” She pointed an accusing finger at Barakas, who was turning to watch their antics with mild amusement. Many of the other Tezerenee were watching, too, but Sharissa did not care. She would say what she had to say. If Faunon abandoned her because he could not accept Darkhorse’s earlier actions, then the sorceress would be alone in her efforts. That might be an obstacle she could overcome, but his absence would create an even worse problem for her.
You are too romantic to be a Vraad, her father had once told her. Perhaps so, but she felt no reason to change, even if it meant hurt.
“There will be time for discussion later,” Barakas interrupted, evidently deciding there were better things to do.
Sharissa quieted, hoping that Faunon would see things clearer if he had time to let his emotions cool. He might then see what fear could do to even the bravest of creatures. The elf did not know Darkhorse; he could not see the child that the eternal was. Recalling her own youth, not that distant in the past, Sharissa knew the limits of a child, even as strong a one as the dweller from the Void.
Ahead of them and high in the sky, the dark form soared out of sight.
Securing the box, Barakas told Reegan, “We move out now. The confusion will be to our advantage.”
“Yes, Father.” The heir turned and signaled to the column.
The Tezerenee readied their weapons and spells. Lochivan rejoined the scouts, who, once he was settled on his steed, urged their mounts into the air. Lochivan’s band circled the column twice and then spread out ahead of it.
“We are in the company of madness,” Faunon whispered.
Tilting her head just enough to see him, Sharissa once more tried to explain Darkhorse’s apparent weakness of spirit to the elf. He cut her off with a look and whispered, “The anger was more for their benefit. I understand all too well the limits one faces. If not for your suggestion, I would have likely broken soon, anyway. These dragon men are very skilled at what they do, especially the pleasant one.”
She glanced up at the tiny figures of Lochivan and his airdrake. “I once thought I knew the true man.”
Faunon grimaced. “You probably do. His pleasant attitude is no game, so far as I saw. He would probably smile while he cut your throat if something amused him.”
“That’s-” The Vraad was about to say that the elf’s words were cruel, but then she recalled her most recent encounters with Lochivan. If it benefited the clan and his father, Lochivan would have indeed cut her throat, all the while explaining that he hated to do it but there was no choice in the matter. His lord and master had ordered him to do it, and thus there was no room for argument.
An invisible wave struck Sharissa. She moaned and nearly lost her grip on the reins. Her mind was on fire, and she had a great urge to unleash her power at random if only because it was what burned her.
To her side, Faunon shouted, but she could not understand his words. Several Tezerenee were also shouting, one of them the patriarch himself. The pain-riddled enchantress put a hand to her head, but the pressure within was too much. She started to slide to her right. Part of her knew that if she fell from her drake she would be trampled by one of the others, for the reptilian mounts had grown skittish, but Sharissa lacked the concentration to maintain her grip.
An arm caught her before the sorceress could slip very far. At first she thought it was Faunon, and so she smiled. Only when things came into focus did she see that it was Reegan who had saved her. He had backed up his mount and put himself between the two captives. Over his shoulder Sharissa could see Faunon burning a hole with his eyes through the Tezerenee’s wide back.
“Are you well?” he asked, genuine concern tempering his otherwise gruff voice.
“Yes… I am.” She disengaged herself from his grip as quickly as she was able, but not before his hand slid down her side a bit. Her smoldering expression made him release her that much quicker, and he immediately urged his drake forward. Reegan did not look back even when he was once more near his father.
“I tried to get to you,” Faunon informed her, their mounts once more side by side. Bound to his animal by the magical chains, his mobility was limited. “But he was over here as soon as it hit us. I was lucky he did not push me off my animal! His eyes carried that intention!”
“What… what happened to us?”
“The demon has met the enemy,” Barakas declared. He gazed back at the young Zeree with excitement radiating in his every movement, every breath. “The first blow has been struck, I think.”
A second later, a blue light flashed in the distance. It was bright but brief.
The patriarch turned back to see what startled his people so, but missed the light. Reegan informed him of what had happened. Barakas nodded.
“We can expect more such waves and probably worse before this is over.”
“They might kill him!” Sharissa raged. “You were able to capture him! What happens if they kill or capture him?”
A shrug. “Then it will amount to the same thing. If he’s captured, I can hardly let him be turned on us, especially you. I think your black friend would agree with me on that.”
She pulled back in shock at his response. “You’ll kill him?”
“Eliminate the threat to our security, yes. Darkhorse would never want to bring harm to you. He would prefer my way, rest assured.”
From another point nearer to the column but to the left of the previous location, a rumble and minor explosion brought renewed silence to the Tezerenee. Sharissa was both relieved and dismayed by the second blast; it meant that Darkhorse still survived, but it also meant that he had probably killed for her. If the Seekers lived in such a weakened state as the sorceress had been led to believe from the evidence, then it was possible that they might have left the expedition alone. Not so now. Now, there would most definitely be an attack. The avians would know that Darkhorse was controlled by the Tezerenee, and if they could not destroy the weapon, they might be able to destroy the one who unleashed it instead.
It was apparent that Barakas thought the same. He ordered his men to even greater caution, if that was possible. As swift and accurate as the shadow steed was, he would not find all of the Seekers. They were too skilled, too crafty for that, even if they were mere reflections of their former might.