“They will never believe that.”
The patriarch gave his son an imperious glare. “They will believe that because I will stake the bond of the dragon on it.”
So it had come to that, the younger Tezerenee marveled with distaste. The fine line of honor!
In truth, his father could not be said to be lying, for lottery was to have been the original system, albeit with a few strings. The supposedly random pattern of who would depart first had been first suggested by Rendel. Gerrod’s elder brother had reminded them that no Vraad felt they should come second to another. The lottery, with a promise that no influence would be made when the names were chosen, had subdued many arguments. What the other Vraad did not know, however, was that only certain names went into the first batch. Those were the ones Barakas knew could either be turned or bullied into submission. The rest would have eventually found themselves offering up their own wills in return for survival.
With the rampant displays of Vraad sorcery going on even now, Nimth would not last half as long as had once been supposed. The Vraad, certain of their continued existence, assumed that there was no reason to hold back and were celebrating accordingly.
Gerrod, his mind on such thoughts, abruptly found his air cut off and his body being dragged by some invisible force around his neck toward his father. The Lady Tezerenee gasped, but that was the only sound other than Gerrod’s futile attempts for breath.
“You are proving yourself to be quite inadequate, my son,” the patriarch said in the smooth voice that unnerved all, especially those for whom his words were intended. “I left you to organize the transfer. Its control escaped you. I left you to organize the creation of the golems, our hope for the future. Control of that escaped you as well. I placed the young Zeree female in your hands… and now she has run off to her father’s citadel, no doubt.” The spell holding Gerrod ceased, leaving the younger Tezerenee to gasp in precious air. “You constantly question my wisdom when you cannot trust your own.” Barakas turned from him to his bride. “I have done all I can with our son. If he cannot redeem himself, there are others willing to take his place once the cross-over commences.”
Lady Alcia started to protest, but noticed something in her husband’s eye that warned her to remain quiet.
Barakas took her arm and started to lead her out. As the two departed, the patriarch calmly commanded to those behind him, “Begin the transfer. Reegan, you control it.” The Lord Tezerenee gave Gerrod one last withering glance. “As for you… find out what the Zeree hatchling has in mind that she first holds back information and then sneaks off to the protection of her father’s domain. If you manage to succeed, there will still be a place for you.”
Gerrod nodded, keeping his visage composed since his father’s sorcerous reprimand had knocked the hood back. Deep inside, however, he seethed. His progenitor was insane, highly so, though there were none here who would back up such a notion. Each of the “failures” mentioned had hardly been the fault of Gerrod, yet it was on him whom the iron hand of Barakas had fallen. Simply because he would not be one of the clan. How Rendel managed all this time, the young Tezerenee could not say, but he now understood that there might have been many reasons Rendel had chosen to abandon them.
When the lord and lady of the clan had departed, Reegan regained his nerve and began giving orders. Most of them were more apt for going into battle than organizing the cross-over, but he had been given control of the plan and there was nothing Gerrod could do about it. With his eldest brother in charge, though, he wondered whether any of them would make it across.
He began to wonder again if he really wanted to cross at all.
It was a ridiculous thought. Here, he only faced death. In the realm beyond the veil, there was a chance for survival. Even despite his feeling that colonizing the so-called Dragonrealm would not prove so simple as his father had thought, it was better than remaining here and watching Nimth simply rot away over the centuries. He would not even survive long enough to see its end.
That in mind, Gerrod drew his cloak about him and departed from the domain of Dru Zeree.
In the selfsame castle that Gerrod sought to reach, Sharissa berated Sirvak. The familiar crouched before her, pitiful but still unremorseful about its actions.
“You disobeyed me, Sirvak! How many times do I have to tell you before you understand that?”
“Understand, mistressss! Only obeying master’sss ordersss! No one but you to enter here!”
“Father isn’t here! I’m trying to save him and she can help!” Sharissa waved a hand in the direction of a bemused Melenea.
“Calm yourself, sweet thing,” Melenea said soothingly. “I’m certain Sirvak meant well. You cannot expect it to so easily disobey an order given to it by Dru. After all,” she added, smiling at the nervous familiar, “it has a limited imagination, a limited mind.”
Sirvak dared a hiss at the intruder. Sharissa would have been dumbstruck if she knew all that the beast struggled with in that “limited mind.” Powerful as it was, the familiar was next to nothing to Melenea now that she was inside. With the defenses of the citadel behind it, Sirvak could have matched her and more. Inside, however, the familiar faced her with only its own abilities. Sirvak feared for Sharissa’s life if it dared reveal what it knew of the enchantress. From experience, the winged beast knew that Melenea would not hesitate to kill both of them. Sirvak could only wait and hope.
Dru was greatly to blame and even the familiar would have acknowledged that. Unwilling to reveal to his daughter any more than he had to about his past indiscretions, he had forbidden the familiar from speaking of those like the beautiful but dark sorceress. That command had now come back to haunt them. Sirvak hissed again, not so much at the enemy before it but at the unfortunate beast’s own inability to protect its charge.
Sharissa, unmindful of the mass confusion in the beast’s mind, stared it back into silence. “No more! You said you had something for me, something that might help us find Father! What is it?”
The creature looked from its mistress to the hated one and back again, frustration written across its odd visage.
“Sirvak, this is Father’s life we’re talking about!”
Reluctantly, the familiar told her. “The crystalsss. All information liesss in the crystalsss. Can predict when rip will open again, perhapsss.”
It was obvious that the creature was uncertain and the idea did not sit well with Sharissa, either. Melenea watched them both, waiting, it seemed, for some explanation. Sharissa realized that her friend did not know about the spell her father had cast and explained it, going into careful detail as to how the crystals recorded images and sorcerous energy so that Dru could later study those memories at his leisure.
Melenea was fascinated. “Dear wonderful Dru! I always knew he was a brilliant thinker! So much potential in this! Do you realize the advantages this could give one over rivals?”
Sharissa had never considered that point but could understand how gaining knowledge of the magical patterns of both Nimth and what the Tezerenee called the Dragonrealm could teach a sorcerer ways of better utilizing the natural power. That was hardly a consideration now, however.
“What Sirvak says is true,” Sharissa replied, forgetting Melenea’s comment. “The crystals might lead us to another tear, another intense appearance by the shrouded realm. It might even show us a way to travel there with little danger.”
The other Vraad’s eyes glowed, a sight that Sharissa found both fascinating and disturbing. She had never seen such a sight before. There was so much that Melenea could teach her…