Darkhorse laughed loudly, in part to keep his adversaries as confused as possible, but also to wake and alert those within the Manor confines.
“Come, oh lords of glories past! Darkhorse invites you to join him!” He kicked at another tree. The Seekers flew hither and yonder, trying to organize themselves. More images passed through the ebony stallion’s mind, distorted views of himself as some horrendous creature from the netherworlds. There were few creatures that the avians feared; Darkhorse was among them.
“Come, come! I promise only to bite a few wings, pluck a few feathers, and stomp a few bony, beaked heads!”
One foolhardy male accepted the challenge, diving at Darkhorse with all four sets of claws ready. The shadow steed reared up and caught him in the chest with both hooves, smashing the creature’s rib cage with that single blow. The Seeker squawked and collapsed to the ground. Darkhorse looked up at the others and laughed mockingly at them.
Slowly, the Seekers began to organize. Several older ones flew up above the rest and, as Darkhorse watched suspiciously, they formed a small circle. The shadow steed smiled grimly. Think you that the air is safer?
Other Seekers tried to form a protective wall in front of the circle. Darkhorse allowed them to organize no further, leaping into the air and soaring toward the avians at a velocity that sent the defenders scattering in sudden panic. One slashed wildly with its claws, sinking its hand into the eternal’s body. Darkhorse absorbed him without noticing. Nothing would keep him from the circle.
He was halfway to them when, as one, they cocked their heads to one side and stared. Darkhorse knew then that he had underestimated the speed and ingenuity of the avians. That knowledge did him little good, however, as force buffetted him aside. He tried to counter it, but was then buffetted from another direction. One blow after another threw him back and forth across the sky. The constant battering made it impossible to think at all. Darkhorse cursed his own overconfidence and bravado. While he was struggling just to maintain some sort of defense, he knew that other Seekers would be preparing an attack of far more lethal measures than this.
A brilliant flash illuminated the heavens, sending all the Seekers into renewed confusion. Darkhorse heard shouts from below. Human and drake voices. The assault against him dropped abruptly as the members of the circle joined their retreating brethren. Darkhorse righted himself and gave chase, furious beyond the point of reason and more than ready to strike a few blows out of pure frustration.
He picked out one of the avians who had formed the circle and was probably one of the rookery elders. Even as he closed in on the creature, an image leaped to life in his head. Shade was in it, a tall and ominous monster whom the Seekers feared even more than they did the stallion. Darkhorse caught hints of a promise made and the results that failure would bring. There were random images of renewed glories and a land that the avians would have ruled again if they had succeeded.
I wonder what his draconian ally would say about such promises, Darkhorse thought as his prey continued its desperate, but seemingly hopeless escape.
The shadow steed slowed abruptly, soon letting the Seekers fly off into the night without further battle. For their failure to the rookery, many of them would pay dearly. For their failure to Shade, who had instigated this entire ploy, those who had sent this flock would also pay dearly-to the warlock himself. Darkhorse could think of no better justice than that. He turned, descending to the ground at the same time.
“Darkhorse!” a familiar and welcome figure cried out. Reforming himself into something more earthbound, the shadow steed touched earth just in front of the lord of the Manor.
“I’m glad you’re safe!” Cabe wrapped his arms briefly around Darkhorse’s neck, something that unnerved the eternal more than a hundred avenging Seekers would have. So open a display of affection for him was a rarity that he could count on one hoof. Several humans and drakes, who talked among one another like old friends, looked at their lord with renewed awe. After a decade they might be used to seeing many startling things, but how often did their great and powerful master greet a demonic horse with a simple hug?
Lady Gwen’s greeting was cordial, but far less affectionate. “You have our gratitude, Darkhorse. When you broke their spell and woke us with your voice, we realized what had happened to us. My only regret is that we could not capture or kill a few more of those arrogant birds! They sometimes make the Dragon Kings seem pleasant in comparison!”
“And make my company acceptable, is that it, Lady Bedlam?”
She grimaced, then nodded her head slowly. “Sometimes, dark one. Sometimes.”
“What happened to you, Cabe Bedlam?”
The young warlock scratched his head. His open honesty was a great contrast to the secrecy and moodiness of Shade. After a moment’s thought, Cabe smiled sourly and replied, “We’ve been living an idyllic life, thanks to the Seekers. They’ve had us taking walk after walk in the garden, playing with the children, relaxing, and,” Cabe glanced at his bride and reddened, “doing whatever else gave us pleasure and took our minds off of the world.”
Darkhorse laughed, but not at that. “What a fool I was! Never did it occur to me that the Seeker I pursued briefly might have some purpose for being so near! Now I see why I failed to find him, too! With my ‘self’ diminished and my impatience guiding me, I never noticed what they were about! They must have freed you briefly and in a subtle manner so that you would not be aware of what games they were playing! Tell me. Do you remember everything?”
Both humans nodded. Gwen added, “I can’t help feeling that Shade had something to do with all of this.”
“He did.” Darkhorse explained what he had picked up from the Seeker’s mind. There were benefits to the avians’ method of communication, but there were disadvantages, too. Seekers, when in dire straits, often emitted their thoughts so powerfully that spellcasters of some ability could pick up the images in their own minds. For Darkhorse, it had been even easier.
“What now?” Cabe wanted to know. “Somehow, I don’t think our original plan holds.”
Darkhorse nodded. “I would say not. If only I knew where Shade was and what he now intends to do! Drayfitt is dead, Cabe, and his final words, if they were not another ploy engineered by the hooded warlock, are a mystery that I must solve before very long! Shade was never one to be inactive!”
“One thing,” Lady Bedlam interrupted, “that we should still do is contact the Green Dragon. He may have some information for us or, at the very least, some suggestion.”
“You do that, then,” her husband suggested. “I want to check the area out. I want to make certain that there are no other surprises.”
“That leaves only myself.”
“What do you plan on doing?” Cabe asked the shadow steed.
“Return to Talak. If I am incorrect, things will be as they were when I-departed. If, however, things have gone the way I think they have,” Darkhorse stared at them and his eyes glittered coldly, “it may already be too late to save the city.”
XVI
Shade stood staring in open contempt at the putrefying column of mixed body parts and dripping ichor that was the guardian of this opening to the realms of the Lords of the Dead. He was not impressed. Not at all.
“Shoddy. I would’ve expected better of your masters. It appears that they, too, have fallen from the ranks of pure Vraad.” He waved his hand and the guardian, with a wailing sound, crumbled into its component parts. “Is that the best you could do?” he called out to the mire-filled pit. The cavern around him echoed his growing annoyance.