The warlock strode the length of the bedroom to one of the windows overlooking the gardens. Below, the people whose lives he guided went about their daily activities, only vaguely aware that some important event now occupied the interests of their lord and lady. The two spellcasters had been at this since waking . . . actually, since the night before, when he had broached the subject. He had waited until he was certain of the Dragon King’s condition, because he had hoped the same as her. The Master of the Dagora Forest had agreed that the situation was too great to ignore and had wanted to join him, but at the moment he was even less capable of aiding Cabe than the warlock’s young daughter Valea was.
“Then I have to go with you.” She joined him by the window, leaning against his back and putting her arms around him. “We will have to ask Toos to watch the children.”
“I can just see that. I have another idea.”
“What?” Her tone indicated that any idea would be welcome as long as it meant that he would be safe. Unfortunately, both of them knew that there could be no such idea as long as he planned to journey into the depths of Legar, especially if there were wolf raiders there.
“I’m going to try to find Darkhorse. I think I know where he might be and I think that he would be willing to help.”
There had been a time, long ago, when the mere mention of the demonic creature would have brought nothing but a stone silence from the enchantress. Darkhorse was a thing of the Void, an empty place beyond the plane of men. Though he had long worn the form of a giant, shadowy steed, he was more a living hole. His ways were not always the ways of other living creatures, if living was a term that could be applied to what he was.
In truth, it was not only what he was that had made him a thing somewhat repulsive to the enchantress, but also the company he had kept. Darkhorse had been a companion to Shade, the warlock whose quest for immortality and power had made him a force swinging from light to darkness with each new incarnation. Only Darkhorse—and perhaps Cabe and Queen Erini, who had come to know the faceless warlock best toward the end—mourned Shade.
Gwen had finally reconciled with Darkhorse, in great part because of his friendship with Cabe. “If you could find him, I would feel much better about this, but that raises the point. How do you hope to find him quickly? He could be anywhere and you yourself said that you really only had this one day, a day we’ve already used part of. He could be anywhere, even beyond the Dragonrealm, you know.”
The dark-haired warlock exhaled. “Other than us, there’s only one person he ever truly visits.”
“Erini.”
“Erini. I’ll visit her and ask if she’s seen him or has news of him. I only wish I’d thought of it when we were there last.”
The enchantress released him and came to his side. She joined him in watching some of the drake and human workers carry a pair of long benches into the depths of the garden. The Bedlams had encouraged their people to make use of the sculpted land, providing they were careful about maintaining it. The population of their tiny domain had grown, however, and so it had become necessary to make some additions and changes to the gardens.
“Melicard may not be too pleased to see you back so soon. I’ve often wondered whether he still blames us in part for his father.”
“Blames me, you mean. Kyrg and Toma were hunting for me when Kyrg brought his army to the gates of Talak.” Cabe frowned, recalling the young prince he had first met. At the time, he had shared much in common with Melicard. Both of them had been unseasoned, naive, when they had been thrust into the center of things. It had cost Melicard his father, but at the same time it had cost Cabe more. He had lost not only the elf who had raised him and had been more of a father to him than Azran ever could have, but also, albeit only in spirit, his
“Then I have to go with you.” She joined him by the window, leaning against his back and putting her arms around him. “We will have to ask Toos to watch the children.”
“I can just see that. I have another idea.”
“What?” Her tone indicated that any idea would be welcome as long as it meant that he would be safe. Unfortunately, both of them knew that there could be no such idea as long as he planned to journey into the depths of Legar, especially if there were wolf raiders there.
“I’m going to try to find Darkhorse. I think I know where he might be and I think that he would be willing to help.”
There had been a time, long ago, when the mere mention of the demonic creature would have brought nothing but a stone silence from the enchantress. Darkhorse was a thing of the Void, an empty place beyond the plane of men. Though he had long worn the form of a giant, shadowy steed, he was more a living hole. His ways were not always the ways of other living creatures, if living was a term that could be applied to what he was.
In truth, it was not only what he was that had made him a thing somewhat repulsive to the enchantress, but also the company he had kept. Darkhorse had been a companion to Shade, the warlock whose quest for immortality and power had made him a force swinging from light to darkness with each new incarnation. Only Darkhorse—and perhaps Cabe and Queen Erini, who had come to know the faceless warlock best toward the end—mourned Shade.
Gwen had finally reconciled with Darkhorse, in great part because of his friendship with Cabe. “If you could find him, I would feel much better about this, but that raises the point. How do you hope to find him quickly? He could be anywhere and you yourself said that you really only had this one day, a day we’ve already used part of. He could be anywhere, even beyond the Dragonrealm, you know.”
The dark-haired warlock exhaled. “Other than us, there’s only one person he ever truly visits.”
“Erini.”
“Erini. I’ll visit her and ask if she’s seen him or has news of him. I only wish I’d thought of it when we were there last.”
The enchantress released him and came to his side. She joined him in watching some of the drake and human workers carry a pair of long benches into the depths of the garden. The Bedlams had encouraged their people to make use of the sculpted land, providing they were careful about maintaining it. The population of their tiny domain had grown, however, and so it had become necessary to make some additions and changes to the gardens.
“Melicard may not be too pleased to see you back so soon. I’ve often wondered whether he still blames us in part for his father.”
“Blames me, you mean. Kyrg and Toma were hunting for me when Kyrg brought his army to the gates of Talak.” Cabe frowned, recalling the young prince he had first met. At the time, he had shared much in common with Melicard. Both of them had been unseasoned, naive, when they had been thrust into the center of things. It had cost Melicard his father, but at the same time it had cost Cabe more. He had lost not only the elf who had raised him and had been more of a father to him than Azran ever could have, but also, albeit only in spirit, his
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