Legends of the Dragonrealm Vol IV Part 54

Aurim did not respond, though, save to stare down at the shadow steed.

Nothing! I am undone!

No, brother, you've been undone all this time! Now at last, the mistake will be corrected . . .

Darkhorse felt his mind drift. Yureel was tearing him apart . . .

We are one. What you are will be mine and with it I will turn the Dragonrealm onto its head and remake this land, this world, into my own dream! What a glorious epic I will create!

I-was all that the shadow steed could think in response. Already he barely remembered himself. His sense of being was slipping away, becoming nothing more than a fragment of his twin's powerful self.

He had lost to Yureel . . . for the final time.

Chapter Sixteen.

Aurim did not recall much about his time in the Manor. He remembered a struggle for control in the deep recesses of the Dagora Forest, then, for a long time, nothing. When at last he woke it was to find himself in the midst of an intricate bit of spellwork guided by the monstrous puppet master. Disoriented, he had been unable to prevent the completion of the spell that Yureel had used to trap his family.

Yureel had controlled him completely throughout the process. The creature had first marched him around the Manor's grounds like a toy soldier, then, while Aurim desperately tried to communicate with his parents, the demon had completed the spell turning the protective barrier into a prison wall. Only Darkhorse and the woman who had earlier rescued his father had escaped, although how she had managed to get through, he could not say. Darkhorse had been meant to follow in order that Yureel could trap him again. It had made the demon furious when, after escaping the inescapable trap, the woman had distracted his intended prey.

Still enraged, Yureel had returned him to Lanith, who had promptly called for a renewal to the torching of the forest. To Aurim, who knew the ways of the shadow puppet well by this time, it was harder and harder to tell when Lanith was himself or when he acted as spokesman for Yureel. Yureel whispered in the mind of the horse king, suggesting things and sometimes even giving outright commands through the monarch. Only General Belfour ever questioned the commands, but he usually quieted after one glance from Lanith.

Aurim hated linking to the other sorcerers, especially when it came time to launch another terrifying a.s.sault in the name of the king of Zuu. The bond the Magical Order forged was much, much deeper than those he had created with his own family. Each and every one of the other spellcasters' personalities became known to him and with only two or three exceptions, they were not people Aurim would have wanted to meet. Hysith was harmless and two of the others, students kidnapped from Penacles, were victims like the young Bedlam. Another student from Penacles, Willar Avon, had willingly joined in return for the gold Lanith had offered. As for the rest of the Order, they were mostly ruffians who had had the dubious fortune of being born with a better than average tendency for sorcery.

The worst, other than Saress, was Ponteroy. Each time they linked, Aurim sensed the other sorcerer try, ever so subtly, to undermine the connection his successor had created between the band. Ponteroy wanted him to fail just enough that Lanith would rename the northerner second in command. From little snippets of thought Aurim had gained through the connection, he knew that Ponteroy dreamed of seizing control of Zuu, but only if he could get Saress on his side. It was a dream that the gold-haired spellcaster knew would always remain a dream. Saress was Lanith's slave.

Each time before they bonded, the Magical Order formed a geometric pattern with Aurim the center. There were seven of them this time, the others having been forced by exhaustion to abandon the spellwork. The loss was fairly negligible; those with Aurim were the strongest of the group. Losing someone such as Hysith was not a major blow to the Order.

Burn the forest! Force them to fight in a more open area like true warriors! Teach the lizards and elves what humans can do! Lanith's words did not take into account that among the defenders were many humans as well. He did not care; the horse king spoke for the benefit of his warriors, who hung on every d.a.m.nable sentence.

The drakes had finally tried sending some of their number in the form of dragons, but they had learned all too quickly the folly of doing that. It seemed that for months one of the details of the Order had been to cast spells on the arrows of the horse king's archers. The first dragons who had flown near enough had perished in a hail of remarkably accurate and deep-penetrating bolts, backed up by sudden lightning storms summoned up with ease by the sorcerers. It had not helped that many drakes had become so accustomed to humanoid form that they were actually clumsier in the ones in which they had been born.

Aurim watched the results of the spellwork. The fires raged strong, destroying all in their paths. Those who simply sought to defend their homes were perishing out there and it was his fault. They were dying in most part because of Aurim Bedlam's much vaunted power. All these years he had failed to reach his potential and now, when that potential had at last become realization, his abilities were the plaything of a demon.

Lanith commands that the fires be doused, Aurim Bedlam. It seems he wants to let his little soldiers play now.

The command pa.s.sed along by Yureel came as both a relief and a new cause of grief. Aurim needed rest, having maintained the fires since being forced to imprison all those in the Manor. Yureel might control his body and be able to make him cast spells for hours at a time, but the weariness was ever Aurim 's.

He canceled the fires, but some of the spells he and the others had cast continued to play havoc with the forest and the Green Dragon's defenses. Allowed to sit, Aurim watched with sinking hope as Lanith's forces moved ever forward through the ravaged land. Nothing the drake lord had thrown against them so far had done more than momentarily delay the horde. Lanith had lost some warriors, but not nearly enough to stem the tide.

Father, what do I do? His parents could not help him now. Anything that happened would have to be of his own doing . . . and Aurim could think of nothing he could do. His great attempt to override Yureel's control had not only failed, but had led to greater disaster. But I can't give up! I can't!

He was still trying to find some answer when the demon seized control of his body again. Come, Aurim, my friend! I've immediate need for you! An opportunity lost has suddenly arisen again!

The invisible strings once again in place, Aurim rose to his feet against his will and turned to Ponteroy, who was watching the advance with far more satisfaction than he had. "Gather the others," Yureel commanded through him. "There is something that needs to be done."

"The king said we could rest for now," countered Ponteroy, likely more than uncomfortable in his extravagant clothing. "I, for one, follow his commands, not yours, boy."

Aurim's hand shot out, seizing the elegant sorcerer's arm near the shoulder. Ponteroy glared, then his face paled in pain as the hand gripping him squeezed tighter and tighter. Aurim felt Yureel pour a touch of sorcery into the grip, preventing Ponteroy from striking back.

"His Majesty'll appreciate what we're about to do, Ponteroy," Yureel added through his unwilling puppet. "Now do what I told you and make it quick!"

The hand released the other sorcerer, who nodded and hurried over to the others. Aurim heard Yureel giggle in his head.

Ponteroy soon returned to him. He was still pale, but bitterness had overcome much of his fear. "They're ready . . . well, five of them and myself. Is that enough?"

"That's enough. Oh, yes, that's enough," Yureel said, forgetting to sound like Aurim. They joined the weary but obviously cowed sorcerers, who had already formed their part of the pattern. Ponteroy took up his position. Aurim stood in the center of the group.

He comes! He comes!

Aurim's head jerked skyward. At first the ensorcelled spell- caster saw nothing, then a shocking sight materialized among the scattered clouds. A dragon. A sleek, swift one racing through the heavens. There was something familiar about it, though, and also something not quite right. It was as if there were two forms up there where only one was and neither of them radiated what pa.s.sed for the magical signature of a true dragon. In fact, they reminded him more of- There! There!

His gaze shifted to a tiny speck some distance behind the disconcerting dragon. It was as black as night and even from here he could sense who it was. Darkhorse!

Oh, yes, my wondrous sorcerer, it's my brother, my self! Here I thought he'd gone and found some sense, but he's come back to me after all! Now we can proceed as I intended so long ago! Grand, glorious Lanith the Conqueror will just have to make do without his perfect steed. I've other, more important plans for Darkhorse . . .

Unable to stop himself, Aurim formed the bond between himself and the others. Once more their wills became subordinate to his, which actually meant to Yureel's. Their power joined with his own. Aurim Bedlam felt such strength that he was certain that he could do anything . . . except escape his own tormentor.

Now, the demon began, you will do the following . . .

The spell trap was very simple, but very well timed. Aurim stared at the swift figure, trying somehow to contact Dark- horse or give him some other warning, but Yureel's control was insurmountable.

When the shadow steed vanished through the hole that the sorcerer had created for the demon, tears of frustration slid down Aurim's face. Darkhorse was as good as trapped. The young spellcaster had been integral in creating the holding cell where the shadow steed now resided and he knew how strong it was. Darkhorse would not soon free himself.

That was it, then. Darkhorse had been captured. There only remained the Gryphon. Yureel had managed to eliminate the other major threats to his insane campaign. Aurim had little faith in the drakes organizing themselves before the forces of Zuu laid waste most of the western half of the continent. Kyl sought for a more unified race, but even those of his kind who believed in the cause could not help bickering with one another.

The new spell left him even more exhausted. In control of his own body, Aurim Bedlam would have collapsed, but Yureel kept him standing long after the others had settled down. Three sorcerers were always on duty, working in conjunction to monitor the spells already unleashed and watching for any new magical attack by the Dragon King. The demon secretly monitored each group through carefully crafted links to one selected member of the trio. Yureel's commands came as whispers in their heads, whispers they did not realize were not thoughts of their own. Aurim had once wondered why. Yureel simply did not possess all of them, but eventually realized that even his captor must have limits. Besides, it was clear to him that even the ensorcelled members were not possessed to the degree that he was. Like Lanith, they did not realize they were being influenced. Aurim Bedlam was Yureel's prize and received special attention.

A battle horn sounded, a sign that the horse king's men were beginning a new attack on the Green Dragon's domain. The battle had shifted to the mundane, with humans, drakes, elves, and others cutting one another down for what they believed. Not for the first time, Aurim wanted to throw up. He had never found war very glamorous and what little he had witnessed here from his exalted position had made it look no better.

Now you may get some rest, Aurim, my friend. There are some things to which I must attend before I visit my dear other self.

The young sorcerer barely had time to close his eyes before he blacked out. Yet again he had been reminded of how much Yureel controlled his existence. Aurim floated through a dreamless sleep, vaguely aware of things around him but not quite certain what they were. Only once did anything disturb his slumber, the voice of a young woman who called his name. He was certain that he knew her, but once the voice ceased, Aurim drifted off again, forgetting her.

Wake, Aurim Bedlam!

He nearly jumped to his feet in his attempt to obey. Blinking, Aurim looked around, only to find that he was no longer on the field of battle, but in the room set aside for him back in Zuu. The disorientation was enough to make his head spin and only by clutching it did the sorcerer prevent himself from pa.s.sing out. Then he slowly realized that he had seized hold of his head, not Yureel. Gazing at his hands, Aurim wiggled his fingers. The minor movements thrilled him, so long had it been since this much control had been his. He took a few tentative steps from his bed-and suddenly his body began moving in a different direction.

"Well, that was a little bit of fun," Yureel commented with a giggle, suddenly floating in one corner of the room. His ice- blue eyes sparkled merrily. "The time has come."

With no more explanation than that, the sinister shadow puppet whisked him to another chamber, one Aurim recognized as the cell Yureel had forced him to create. On one side of the cell lay Darkhorse, terribly misshapen. Gone were all traces of the equine form of which his friend was so fond. Darkhorse was now a shapeless, still blob that spread across a good quarter of the chamber. A pair of icy blue orbs, identical to Yureel's save that they seemed dull and lifeless, floated in the center of the unsightly ma.s.s. Once or twice in the past, Aurim had seen Darldiorse in such a shape and he had been unnerved each time. Now, though, he only felt sympathy for him.

"He really must learn to pull himself together," Yureel said, giggling again.

The laughter seemed to cause the prisoner to stir. The eyes grew more alive.

Their captor noticed this and his next words were louder, more concise, just for Darkhorse's sake. "A little late and a little sloppy, but all things have worked out for the best, don't you think, my dear boy?"

"Yes, Yureel." Although the voice was Aurirn's, the response was Yureel's. Once more, all the young sorcerer could do was watch as his every action was dictated by the foul creature.

"I hope you'll forgive the long wait, my brother, my self! It was hard to draw myself away from the delicious tableau I've been so busily concocting. I think dear Lanith can make do for now, though, even without his prize sorcerer or his oh so majestic steed. The drake's warriors are admirable fighters, but their defeat is inevitable, isn't it, my brother, my self? Their first lines have already been routed."

Aurim desperately wanted to hear more, but then another voice in his head caught his attention, the same female voice he had heard earlier during his enforced slumber.

Aurim Bedlam . . . can you hear me?. . . By Rheena, Mistress of the Forest, please say you do!

Someone was in his head, someone who had managed to do what Yureel had told him time and time again was impossible. Who are you?

Yssa . . . my name is Yssa . . . thank the Mistress that I finally got through to you! I've . . . trying to reach you ever since . . . sensed your presence! You are . . . you are Aurim Bedlam?

He acknowledged his ident.i.ty to her, although it should not have been necessary considering their link. Obviously she was nearly as anxious as he was. You . . . you're the woman who saved my father . . .

Yes . . . my name is Yssa, but that's not important! I've tried to break through the barrier in your mind since . . . first brought here . . . listen to me . . . she thinks that I'm still under her spell. I've got to make this quick. Can you . . . anything . . . ?

He asked her to repeat her question. Their link seemed to be a tenuous one, which weakened every time Yureel made his body move or speak. The monstrous creature was saying something to Darkhorse, but Aurim paid his words no mind, wanting only to continue his conversation with Yssa. If she could break through, perhaps she could help him to escape Yureel's power.

Can you do anything at all on your own, Aurim?

He told her the sad truth in as few words as he could, finishing with I only managed to fight him in the forest. His will is overwhelming!

But you've got such power, such will of your own! I felt it! I've heard about it!

Something in the way she spoke to him briefly encouraged Aurim. How could Yssa believe in him if there was not truth to what she said? In all fairness, a part of the young sorcerer knew that it was also the enchantress's beauty that played games with his hopes. Nonetheless, his hopes rose. Maybe I could do something . . .

As if stirred by her continuing presence, Aurim's mind began to race. His father had often told him how it had been during the worst crises that his own mind had worked best. Now the same happened to the younger Bedlam. One thing in particular interested him. How had Yssa managed to breach the sorcerous walls with which their captor had enveloped his mind when no one else had? What made her different?

Whatever the reason, it was possible she offered him options that he had not had before. Yssa! Can you help me- Her answer was immediate and without hope. No . . . I can't do anything except talk . . . you. Saress doesn't know how skilled I am at . . .

Her last words faded as Aurim found his attention forced back to Darkhorse's predicament. Yureel had him doing something. He was casting a spell to strengthen the one holding the weakened shadow steed to one place. At the same time, Yureel began to distort and expand, coming more and more to resemble the shapeless ma.s.s that was his captive brother. The floating blob immediately moved toward Darkhorse, his intention quite clear. Yureel had spoken many times about what he intended to do with his counterpart once he tired of humiliating him. Now, it was very clear that the horrific shadow man had decided the ordeal of humiliation had come to an end.

Yureel will devour him . . . Aurim knew that what he thought was not quite an accurate description, but it was close enough. Yureel would absorb Darkhorse; there would be nothing left and the monster would be far, far stronger than he had been before. The sorcerer had witnessed the amazing extent of the shadow steed's power in times past; what would Yureel be able to do with so much more strength at his beck and call?

Worse . . . what about Darkhorse? Such a fate went beyond horror as Aurim knew it.

What is it? What . . . happening, Aurim?

He had forgotten about Yssa. Yureel! He plans to make Darkhorse part of him!

The enchantress's dismay more than matched his own, but she was less inclined to simply wait for the inevitable. You've got to save . . . Aurim! You're his only hope! You . . . the power! Use it before . . . too late!

I can't defeat Yureel on my own. Can't you help me?

Her presence faded more. No . . . nothing I can do. I'd hoped if I could break through . . . you . . .

Darkhorse roared in pain and agony, a sound that nearly deafened Aurim. Already Yureel floated partially atop his captive. The process of a.s.similation, as the monster had sometimes called it, would soon be complete.

Aurim! I had a chance to . . . you at the Manor! Your father said that you . . . power . . .

Yssa's words no longer made much sense. She had obviously used most of her remaining strength to contact him and all she had accomplished was to discover how helpless he was.

To his surprise, Darkhorse suddenly called out, "Aurim! Hear me! Break his hold! Your will is powerful! He cannot hold you and still do this!"

I can't! he tried to reply. But Yureel allowed him only to watch and keep Darkhorse still.

Aurim . . . Yssa insisted, her presence momentarily stronger. With a little more concentration, he even managed to summon a vision of her. The enchantress was chained to a wall, her bonds radiating an emerald aura. Even at this dire moment, she looked beautiful.

Aurim, if there is any hope, you've got to push your will to its fullest now!

He had been saying he couldn't for so long, it was hard for Aurim to think otherwise, but if he did not try once again, Darkhorse would be no more.

What can I do? Fighting Yureel would be a fruitless task. There remained only one possible plan. It would enable him to avoid battling the demon directly. He had to try to send the shadow steed far, far away where Darkhorse would have the time he needed to recuperate.

Away . . . Aurim concentrated his efforts through the very spell the puppet master had forced him to maintain all this time, the one that kept Darkhorse still while Yureel devoured him. This was his link to his friend, an opening that might be turned to his favor if he had the will and power to do it.

Away . . . He did not know where to send Darkhorse. As far away as possible, he supposed. As far away as Aurim's will would permit.

Away . . .

Darkhorse roared- "What is this, what is this, what is this?" Yureel cried, still formless but quivering in astonishment and swiftly rising fury. "Where is he? Where is he?"

Aurim! I felt . . . such power . . . what did you do?

He ignored Yssa's frantic question, his efforts concentrated on doing what he could to free himself. It would not take the demon long to realize just who had been responsible for s.n.a.t.c.hing his prey from his grasp. Aurim did not want to be here when that happened.

Too late. "You! It had to be you!" The ma.s.sive blob turned on him. "It can't be but it has to be! What did you do, human, what did you do?"

"I sent him far away," Aurim responded against his will. He had forgotten that Yureel could simply demand answers from him. "I sent him far away."

"Where?"

"I don't know." It was true. Aurim had not consciously chosen a destination.

The blob shifted nearer, Yureel's disturbing gaze never leaving him. "You don't know where, my little sorcerer? You don't know where you put him?"

"I only wanted to send Darkhorse away so that you couldn't hurt him." The captive spellcaster tried to keep himself from saying anything more, but his will was not strong enough. "I don't know where."

"I heard you!" Still shapeless, the demon expanded farther, filling more than half the chamber. He floated closer, a hungry look in the inhuman eyes.

He's going to take me now! He's going to take me! "Aurim, darling, I thought I felt-"

Saress had materialized, seduction clearly evident in her eyes. However, one look at the monstrous form hovering be fore them and the enchantress shrieked. Aurim could not really blame her; he wanted to scream, too. Yureel was only inches from him . . .