That was doubtful, in Darkhorse’s opinion. He suspected now that the box was a last resort saved by Mal Quorin on the off-chance that he had to flee to his master. In opening up the container, the shadow steed had unwittingly unleashed the spell, which apparently had been specifically tied to the imprisoned advisor.
The king would not listen to those around him. If he had not been informed of Quorin’s escape, then it followed that he might also have not been informed of any new attempt to kill or kidnap Princess Erini. Darkhorse was on the verge of stating that he would investigate, having already desired to do so since first arriving, when a new voice broke through the chaos.
“What’s wrong? Darkhorse! Melicard! Are the drakes already at the gate?”
“Erini!” At the sight of his beloved, the king rushed to her and took her in his arms, ignoring the embarrassed looks on the face of his subordinates. The princess held him briefly, but seemed more interested in what was going on that would require everyone’s presence here. “I couldn’t sleep any more,” she commented as she broke away and walked toward the rail of the balcony. “I was worried that something might happen while I was resting.”
Melicard, a little at a loss due to the chaos his mind had been struggling with, joined her. “The drakes are out on the horizon. There. Darkhorse says that Quorin is with them.”
“Quorin? That’s terrible.” Erini stared northward, as if trying to see the drake army without the aid of any device or her own sorcery.
Darkhorse snorted. Terrible? He would have expected a far more virulent response from the princess, who probably hated Quorin more than anyone else here. Studying her closely, he noted her pale, almost unresponsive features. It was likely that her lackluster response was due in great part to a surge of fatalism concerning the coming day or even simply because she had only slept a short while. Unlike Melicard and his men, who were long used to staying awake for a day or more, she had never had the need to do so. Would that I could sleep! I would sleep for a year if such was possible!
But not until Shade has been dealt with, he reminded himself.
Shade. Darkhorse still wondered what purpose the warlock had had in setting him off on the endless and pointless chase. Shade had wanted him occupied. Why?
He realized belatedly that Melicard was speaking to him. “What was that, your majesty?”
“I asked what might be taking your friends so long? We have need of the Bedlams, Darkhorse. I would like to discuss our options with them before-hand-unless they feel they can arrive at the last moment and remove the threat with a wave of their hands.” The king’s voice was tinged with aggravation. His kingdom’s existence was hanging in the balance and two of his greatest allies were among the missing.
Darkhorse, too, began to wonder. Cabe had fallen prey to Shade’s machinations earlier. Had the warlock struck twice? “I will go seek them now! There is still time before the Silver Dragon can strike! Will you be safe?”
“I would never leave my kingdom defenseless against a threat like the drakes. I swore that Duke Toma would be the last of his kind to ever enter Talak with his head still attached to his body.”
The shadow steed chuckled. “Indeed. You also have your personal sorceress, too.” He indicated a somber Erini with a nod of his head. She looked at Darkhorse, smiled briefly, then returned to her dreamlike gazing. “Yes. I will return before long, King Melicard! You have my oath on that!”
“I would prefer your presence instead. We will await your return.”
Summoning a portal, Darkhorse leapt from the balcony and vanished into it. The transition was swift this time and he barely noticed his brief passage through the emptiness. In mere breaths, he was exiting the other side, his destination as near to the protective barrier as he could get. This time, he hoped for a simpler visit.
He sent a probe first, hoping that it would engage the attention of one of those he sought. With the Bedlams sorely needed elsewhere, Darkhorse wanted to keep his return as quiet as possible so as to not panic the others who lived here. Unfortunately, he received no response, which, when he thought about it, left him few other choices than to call out.
Trotting closer to where the Manor itself stood, Darkhorse shouted, “Bedlams! Cabe! It is I, Darkhorse! I have need of you!”
He heard confused shouts and the mutters of angry folk. Several anxious minutes went by before someone responded to his summons. It was not Cabe. It was an uncrested drake, one of the servitor caste, who finally dared to challenge him.
“What isss it? What do you ssseek?”
“What do I seek? Your master and mistress, drake! The warlock Cabe Bedlam and his mate, the Lady of the Amber!”
The drake seemed more interested in the ebony stallion than locating those he served. “I have never ssseen a beassst such as you!”
“I was here earlier! I am Darkhorse!”
“Darkhorssse!” The drake hissed in pleasure. “The massster has ssspoken of you! I wasss sorry that I misssed you! I am Ssarekai, one who trains and cares for riding drakes and sssteeds such as your magnificent ssself!”
As much as Darkhorse normally delighted in being appreciated, he had no time for such flattery now. “Your master, scaly one! I have need to speak with him!”
“Yesss, forgive me! Your appearance here has excited me! Others have been searching for them!”
“Searching? No one knows where they are?”
“They were not in their room.”
Ssarekai would have said more, but a human female materialized through the trees and rushed to his side. Glancing at Darkhorse with more than a little fear, she whispered to the drake. It was an odd sight. Though humans and drakes intermingled in some places, such as Irillian, there was generally a sense of separation even when they spoke to one another. Here, on the other hand, the woman stood somewhat behind Ssarekai, as if she depended on him for protection from Darkhorse.
Curious things are being done here, the shadow steed thought wryly.
The drake looked upset. His hissing became more evident and his blunted, nearly human tongue darted in and out every now and then as he spoke. “Great Darkhorse, sssomething is amissss! No one can find the massster and mistress! Someone sssays-”
He did not hear what the drake had to say next, for another voice intruded, this one threatening to tear his mind apart, so intensely did it strike him. Ssarekai stepped back, his next words forgotten. Behind him, the female human tried to make herself as small as possible.
Darkhorse!
That was all. His name. His name echoing again and again. Shaking his head, he succeeded in clearing the echoes from his mind, but not from his thoughts.
“Great Darkhorse?” Ssarekai tentatively called.
The eternal paid him no mind. Erini! She was calling for his help! The Dragon King must have struck somehow!
His task here forgotten, the eternal summoned forth a new portal. Had the drakes waited until he was gone before beginning some insidious assault? What?
“Great One?” the drake Ssarekai called again, this time more urgently. His voice went unheeded.
“Stand fast! Those who would touch the friends of Darkhorse must be willing to pay in full for their misdeeds!”
The fearsome statements were out of his mouth before his eyes acknowledged the obvious fact that no one standing within sight appeared to be under attack by so much as a flea. Nothing seemed to be happening at all, save that Darkhorse once again found himself facing a sea of startled looks from every pair of eyes in the room. It was something he was becoming very annoyed about. The stallion was beginning to feel as if he were the intruder, not Shade or the Silver Dragon.
Scanning those around him, Darkhorse spotted Erini. She was staring at him in mild surprise. Confused, the shadow steed turned away from her gaze and focused on Melicard. The king flashed an uncertain smile in his direction.