Gerrod shadowed them every step of the way. There was more beneath that hood than either Barakas or even Rendel knew, Dru suspected. Gerrod observed everything with a cunning eye. He was keenly interested in what the outsider his father had brought with him had to say about the spells cast here, of that much Zeree was certain. Interested in a way that puzzled Dru, for it was almost as if the younger Tezerenee hoped to find fault with what he himself had helped create under the very nose of his lord and progenitor.
“Here it is, Dru Zeree. The missing link in your work and our salvation.”
Following the grand wave of the Lord Tezerenee’s arm, Dru gazed upon a body. He knew what it was, having created such beings before, but the size and scope of it made any initial comment superfluous. Under the waiting gazes of his two companions, he dared to reach out and touch the nearer arm. It was warm and very much living to the touch. Dru wanted to shrink back from it, but knew that only he would suffer from such a cowardly act. The Tezerenee neither respected nor worked with those they considered lacking in nerve. At this point in the alliance, such an action might have been tantamount to suicide on his part.
“A golem made of flesh,” Gerrod informed him needlessly.
Had it been standing rather than lying flat on a marble platform, it would have come to Dru’s chest. The same height as Sharissa. Zeree had no idea why that should come to mind now, save that he had already been away from her longer than he had planned. It was also for her sake that he had accepted the patriarch’s original offer. A solution, however insane, that saved her life was worth entering the domain of a horde of ravaging dragons like the Tezerenee. It was not a Vraadish notion, to be sure. Most elder Vraad would have gladly given up their offsprings’ lives to save their own hides.
“You may be wondering about its… incomplete construction,” Gerrod prodded in a more daring manner.
Dru grunted. Incomplete, indeed! A poor excuse of a golem, taken on face value… or rather on faceless value, seeing as how it lacked a visage of any sort. In fact, it was lacking in much more than merely features. There was no hair, no mark upon its person. Its hands and feet, he saw, were little more than stubs at the end of each appendage. The golem was neither male nor female, an asexual, living puppet.
As a Vraad over three thousand years old, Dru had seen far worse than this… yet the golem had some quality about it that made him want to shiver. Some difference beyond its visual deficiencies.
Then it struck him as to what it was he sensed.
“This was grown, not fashioned from bits and pieces.”
Gerrod’s eyes brightened. For the first time, Dru noted how crystalline they were. Barakas, meanwhile, smiled approvingly at the befuddled spellcaster. He indicated to Dru that he should continue with his guesswork.
The narrow Vraad did, forcing himself to touch the golem’s bare torso again. The skin had a peculiar leathery feel to it, almost like…
“Not Vraad after all.” He ran his finger along the arm, forgetting, in his dreaming, the dread he had been experiencing previously. What did he know that felt like this?
It came to him and the realization rekindled his dread of the gloom. “This has been spawned from a dragon!”
“You see, Gerrod, Master Zeree has a nimble mind. A mind worthy of a Tezerenee.”
The hooded figure bowed, his reaction, if any, totally shrouded by the cloak. Dru wondered if Barakas simply pretended not to notice or was so caught up in his belief in his control of the Tezerenee that Gerrod’s actions escaped him.
That was a question for another time. “This is to be the vessel for the ka.”
“Yes.” Barakas reached out and caressed the golem’s shoulder as one might a lover. “The golem has no ka, being neither dragon nor Vraad. It is a shell, open to possession, that has no true essence, no life of its own. The only thing it carries is the inherent magic of the dragon. Only a carefully structured spell gives it the appearance of life. A Vraad ka, entering, will find no resistance to its presence and take it over completely. The golem is malleable; it will become what the Vraad wants it to become.”
“A superior body for a new world,” Gerrod added, speaking as if by rote. He had evidently heard his progenitor preach this often.
The Lord Tezerenee nodded approval to his son. “So it will be.” His attention returned to his guest. “It will be a true combining of our soul with the magic of the dragon. Through that, the Vraad will be more than they could have ever hoped.”
Dru kept his expression indifferent, but, inside, the disturbing feeling was growing. It was more than just the golem now. The Vraad had a new world awaiting them, but it was one that Barakas Tezerenee was mapping out to his own desires. The anxious sorcerer looked down at the still form lying next to them and could no longer repress the shudder.
“Is something wrong, Zeree?”
Before he could respond, Gerrod spoke. “Father, Rendel will need some watching for the next hour. Despite earlier expectations, he is not yet in the Dragonrealm. We have judged the cross-over to be a slower and more tedious process than originally calculated and his body must be kept well during that extra time. If I have your permission, I would like to discuss with Master Zeree what opinions he has concerning our progress here and the possible difficulties we may not have foreseen… unless, of course, you have need of him still…”
The Lord Tezerenee’s gaze measured Dru. “I have no need of him now. What say you, Zeree?”
“I would be only too happy to add whatever I could to ensure the success of your spell.”
“Very good.” The patriarch reached up and took Sirvak’s beaked countenance in his hand. Dru could feel the familiar’s nervous breathing against his neck, but Sirvak, to its credit, did nothing otherwise during the span in which the large Vraad studied it. When Barakas finally released it, the creature carefully lowered its head and pretended to resume its napping.
“A splendid piece of workmanship. How would it fare, do you think, against a wyvern?”
“Sirvak has a certain skill in combat.” Dru purposely smiled as he looked at the beast and scratched its throat. “As for wyverns… he killed both of them in under a minute.”
The patriarch’s face darkened, but he kept his voice composed. “A splendid piece of work, as I said.” To his son, he commanded, “I am to be notified the moment something occurs. The exact moment.”
“Father.” Gerrod bowed, staying in the subservient position even after the Lord Tezerenee had vanished in a verdant cloud that threatened to spread throughout the chamber. Finally standing, the younger Tezerenee dispersed the greenish mist through an open window with a violent twist of his hand. He glanced at Dru. “He’s quite mad, Master Zeree, even more than the rest of us.” When there was no response, he added, “And we would have to be mad indeed to think of toppling him. Come take a look at this.”
With that last peculiar twist, Gerrod had turned toward the pentagram and those who maintained the spell. Dru followed silently, thinking about how much truth there was in his guide’s words.
“You have, of course, thought of the one difficulty with my father’s plan, haven’t you?” With his back turned to Dru, Gerrod looked like nothing more than a vast piece of cloth hung up to air out. His steps were surprisingly inaudible, a contrast to the heavy thuds that generally accompanied his armored relations.
Dru knew what the hooded figure was talking about. “Your golem is here; how will he get it to the Drag-How will he get it to the other side?”
“It was my idea… mine and Rendel’s, that is. A matter of power, as Father would say. Power will always prevail if you have it in sufficient quantities.” A low laugh escaped the all-encompassing hood. “Father is such a philosopher.”