Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III (78 page)

“I’ve got to go home, Gryphon! I’ve got to do what I can to help free my son of that spell. There’s no telling
what
might happen otherwise!”

The lionbird nodded. “I understand completely, Cabe. You know that.”

His statement made the anxious sorcerer feel a little guilty. The Gryphon had lost a son already; Aurim was still alive and healthy.

“We’ll have to explain to Toos and the others. I’ll also need to get word to Troia.”

“You’re coming, too?”

The human/avian eyes stared coldly at him. “Did you think I would abandon you on this? Whatever aid I can offer is yours. You should know that by now.”

He had been hoping for his old friend’s help, but it was good to be reassured. “I can’t thank you enough.”

They both rose. The Gryphon patted the warlock on the shoulder. “We’ve always been there for each other and for each other’s family. There’s no need for thanks. I owe you as much as you think you owe me.”

Cabe differed on that, thinking of how the former monarch had shielded a young, confused man running from the hunting armies of the Dragon Emperor. From that moment on, he had considered himself forever in the lionbird’s debt.

Their news was received with both dismay and shock. Benjin Traske insisted on returning with them, his deep concern for the mage’s family touching Cabe’s heart, but the warlock refused, knowing that the scholar was needed in Penacles more than ever. Without Cabe there, it would be up to Traske to aid the Green Dragon in watching over Kyl. Benjin Traske finally gave in, but only with great reluctance.

Toos, of course, approved of their departure. He leaned close and added, “Your children, warlock, are my children too, as are the Gryphon’s. It would pain me dearly, son, if anything happened to any one of them.”

The drakes, too, were adamant that Cabe return to the Manor. Kyl, like Benjin Traske, also wished to return in the hopes that he might be able to do something for the young warlock. The Green Dragon and Grath reluctantly convinced him to do otherwise, for which Cabe was grateful. He was surprised at the heir’s shock at what had happened to Aurim; his son and the drake were evidently dearer friends than he had imagined. The sorcerer had been convinced that Kyl generally associated with Aurim in order to be near Valea, but the concern he read in the drake’s visage told him otherwise. It made him just a little uncomfortable to realize that he might have misjudged Kyl, at least in part.

“Things will be fine here, Cabe,” Toos concluded. The regent waved a dismissing hand at them. “Go! See to your son and Ssarekai. Good horseman for a drake, that one. He doesn’t deserve Toma’s games any more than Aurim does.”

“We shall do what we can for both of them,” replied the Gryphon. “As soon as we are able, one of us will return with news.” He turned to Kyl. “Your Majesty . . .”

“Formality isss not necesssary now, Lord Gryphon. All I desssire isss that you do for my friend what you and Massster Bedlam can!”

The others nodded their agreement. Cabe laid a hand on the lionbird’s arm. “Ready?”

“Of course.”

THEY WERE ALL
waiting in the largest of the Manor’s underground chambers. The first time Cabe had been down here, many years before, he had expected to find dungeons. To his relief, most of the rooms evidently had been used for storage. There were traces of old magic, but the spells had either been fairly simple or had been cast so long ago that no danger remained. As for the largest chamber, the table and chairs he had discovered in it indicated that its last use had been as a council room or something akin.

Aurim and Ssarekai sat in chairs in the middle of the room. The table had been moved away, no doubt at Gwendolyn’s request. The party looked up as Cabe and the Gryphon materialized.

“Was there any difficulty?” the enchantress asked her husband.

“None save that everyone wanted to give what aid they could.”

“I’ll be sure to thank them when I can.” Her gaze shifted to the figure beside Cabe. “For now, I want to thank
you
, Gryphon, for coming.”

“As I keep telling your mate, my lady, there is no need to thank me. We are family.”

“I wish everyone would stop talking as if I were about to die,” interjected an apprehensive Aurim.

“No one is going to die, Aurim,” Gwen replied, walking over to the young man, “but you know that Toma’s left something in your head. We can’t help but feel a little anxious. I know it doesn’t help to hear that. Just rest assured that there’s nothing Toma’s done that we can’t untangle.”

“I hope,” Aurim muttered.

“Aurim!” Gwendolyn Bedlam stared down at her son.

The Gryphon raised his hands in an attempt to calm everyone. “Please! We should begin as soon as possible. Make no mistakes, this is going to take the rest of the day and likely tomorrow, too.”

That made the young warlock grimace. “
That long?
”

“I’m afraid so. You won’t have to sit there the entire time, though. First we have to see what’s there. Then, we have to see how we can get rid of it.”

“Let’s do it, then,” added Cabe as he joined the Gryphon.

“What about the reception?” asked his son. “Won’t you miss that?”

“Toos will give our apologies.” The Gryphon sighed. “Now, please, Aurim. You have to remain silent for this.”

Next to Cabe, Gwendolyn whispered, “I wish Darkhorse was here! I think that with his peculiar brand of sorcery, he would stand a chance of unraveling this spell by himself.”

The warlock nodded. He decided it was not the time to express his concerns about the eternal. Darkhorse had been missing far too long for his tastes.

“Let me look first,” the Gryphon suggested. “Once I have an idea what is there, I will know better how to proceed.” He met Aurim’s nervous gaze and chuckled. “I should thank you, young warlock. You have no idea how bored I am at receptions. Before your mother contacted us, I had just resigned myself to looking forward to five or six hours of empty talk and stuffy faces. It really was kind of you to drag me away from such wonderful entertainment.”

Aurim smiled, which Cabe suspected was the Gryphon’s intention. His subject more relaxed now, the lionbird summoned his power. Although they could not see his probe, the others could sense the spell progressing.

Forced for the moment to wait, the warlock thought over his old comrade’s words. More a creature of action than speech, the Gryphon despised affairs of state. But at the moment, Cabe would have preferred nothing more than fighting boredom at the royal reception in Penacles. At least that would have meant that his son, his entire family, was well.

His reverie was shattered by an intake of breath by the Gryphon. “Well, what do we have here?”

Everyone leaned forward. Anxiety spread once more across Aurim’s pale countenance.

“What is it?” Cabe asked.

The Gryphon sighed, then looked at his companions. “This is going to take much longer than I had hoped.” If it was possible for a creature with a beak to grimace, then the lionbird had done just that. “We seem to have run into a problem.”

XIV

GRATH OBSERVED THE
reception from his usual place a bit behind his brother. Penacles he found more fascinating than Talak, possibly because Penacles was a kingdom built to honor knowledge, one of Grath’s personal gods. The young drake prided himself on his mind. He had already discovered that the majority of adults, be they drake or human, were his inferiors in terms of intellect. Grath did not hold that against them, though. He was certain that he had been born with a superior brain. After all, had not his dam, his mother, once been a part of the clan Purple, the dragons that had ruled Penacles before the Gryphon? All knew that Lord Purple had been the guiding force in the Turning War, not Grath’s sire, the emperor. Had he not died in mortal combat with Master Bedlam’s grandfather, Grath was certain that the Dragon King would have eventually seized control from Gold, the emperor.

Hatchlings were not supposed to know their mothers. All were raised in a communal setting with the matriarch overseeing everything. Grath, being who he was, had had little trouble in tracing his background. It prided him to know that his mother had come from the most intelligent, the most cunning of the dragon clans. That did not mean that he did not appreciate his late sire. If not for Gold, Grath might have never been born. He owed the late Dragon Emperor for that, if nothing else.

Toos was introducing them to yet another functionary. Grath waited for Kyl to perform his peacock routine, then bowed when it was his own turn to exchange greetings. His brother was every inch what one expected from the heir to a throne and Grath took great pride in that, for he felt that he above all others was responsible. Kyl followed his instructions to the letter and performed as well as any trained dog. That he did not realize what was happening, Grath could forgive him. Kyl was intelligent, true, but hardly on the same level as his younger brother. At least he was intelligent enough to realize how quickly he would flounder without his brilliant, loyal counselor by his side.

It’s not who sits on the throne that rules,
Grath’s mentor had told him.
It’s the one who has his ear.
The truth of that was plain for him to see. Queen Erini truly ruled in Talak. Her husband could deny her nothing. Here in Penacles it was the same. Toos the Regent—a fairly knowledgeable human, he was willing to concede—ever listened to the counsel of the Gryphon.

Grath admired the Gryphon, who pretended he no longer ruled but in reality did. The young drake had once dreamed of being emperor himself, but now it made so much more sense to stand behind the throne. If things changed and it became necessary to step forward, the support would be there.

He had the best of all possible worlds awaiting him.

It would have been preferable if Master and Mistress Bedlam or the Lord Gryphon were also here. They were clever enough to appreciate his skill at handling his brother, even if they did not realize the extent of that handling. Grath had been warned to stay some distance from them, especially his soon-to-be former guardians, but this was one point on which he and his mentor differed. The Bedlams were his family, too, and he saw no difficulty in maintaining a balance between the two aspects of his life. Besides, was it not planned that Valea would join Kyl after he assumed the throne? Better to keep on good terms with her parents for when the time came to convince them of the inevitability of Valea’s departure for the caverns of the Dragon Emperor.

That did not mean, of course, that he would not be willing to destroy them if it proved necessary for the success of his plans.

Something caught Grath’s attention. He shifted his gaze from the attractive young human woman curtsying before his brother and discovered that Lord Green was trying to gain his attention.

Turning to Kyl, he whispered, “Lord Green desires my attendance.”

His brother nodded his permission, never taking his eyes off the woman. Grath forced away a condescending smile as he left his brother. More so than him, Kyl had a fondness for human females. It had made planting the suggestion of seducing Valea that much easier. Kyl actually enjoyed her company, although that was not going to stop him from flirting with others. Grath was more dedicated; when her dashing emperor finally tired of her, Valea would find Grath waiting. She was everything he desired in a female: exotic beauty, a mind, personal strength, and, best of all, the power of a Bedlam.

The dragon king looked impatient by the time Grath joined him. He respected Lord Green very much, even if the elder drake seemed a bit too subservient to his brother. Yet, the Dragon King also found much time for him. How ironic it would be if the tall, hellish knight knew the truth. That was one problem that Grath had not yet solved. If the Dragon King discovered what the young drake was involved in, it would mean having to do something that Grath did not find appetizing.

It won’t happen, though. I have control now! I have become the kingmaker, the power behind the future of the entire Dragonrealm.

“How isss he doing out there?”

“Perfect, of course.” Grath thought that the Dragon King had become too nervous of late, as if anything could go wrong at this point. The meeting with Lord Blue, the Dragon Kings’ chosen representative, was a foregone conclusion what with Grath to coach Kyl through it. Soon, Kyl would renounce his name and take on the mantle of Gold, Dragon Emperor.

“I do not like thisss.” The Green Dragon was more sibilant than usual, a definite sign of excessive worry as far as Grath was concerned. “The Bedlams are gone and the Gryphon with them. The demon steed is also missing. Our defenses are weakened.”

The Bedlams had sent word just prior to the reception that they would be unable to attend. The cunning spell attached to Aurim’s memory had so far defeated their best efforts. Toma had planned well when he had devised that one. Grath could not help but admire the spell’s obvious complexity. How many were there who could so cleverly befuddle his guardians?

“Things will be all right, my lord,” he answered dutifully. “We are in Penacles, after all. There is no better guarded kingdom than this one save Talak, and yet there we faced much more resentment. Here, people already accept us . . . to a point, of course.” Grath hoped to find reasons to make future excursions to the City of Knowledge before necessity demanded that it be returned to drake control. Since the latter would not take place for some time, he did not feel too concerned.

His eyes suddenly focused on a fantastic figure entering the reception. Here was one whom Kyl would find most appealing, he thought.
And so do I
, the young drake was forced to admit.

There was no one in the Dragonrealm like the Lady Troia, mate of the Gryphon. She had met him across the sea, at the beginning of the revolt against the Aramite Empire. She was lithe and graceful, yet still a predator, her tawny color in keeping with her feline appearance. When she smiled—a bit uncertainly, he thought—her slightly pointed teeth reminded him of a female drake. She also had talons that were supposed to be every bit as deadly as those of Grath’s race.