He knew that, but it made no difference. Somehow, he had to find a way. Wellen silently pondered his own abilities, physical and otherwise, and tried to find something that would aid him. There was not much. He was a researcher, a would-be explorer, a man of books who lived for knowledge but did not always use it to his benefit. Wellen admitted to himself that he knew facts, not the world. It was not an entirely shameful thing. Even now, the thought of merely conversing with the gnome, learning a few of the things the master of the citadel had learned, exchanging knowledge . . .

Exchanging knowledge?

Would it work?

The others, even the Dragon King, had waited in silence, seeing that this was an inner struggle on which everything here hinged. Wellen smiled at Xabene, thanking her for what he was certain was true concern, then turned so that he faced Lore and his monarch, too.

"I think I have a plan."

"Indeed?" The lord of the Dagora Forest lowered his tremendous head. Benton Lore looked skeptical, but that was the way prime ministers and major-domos were supposed to look as far as Wellen was concerned.

"What can you tell me about the gnome?"

Green acceded to his second. "Lore?"

The pepper-haired soldier thought. "There is not much, my lord. No one knows much about him. If he has a name, it has never reached the ears of a talespinner. Legend says that it is the same gnome, that he is immortal, but I find that hard to believe."

"What about Shade?" Xabene could not help asking slyly. "Shade is Shade. He is an entirely different matter."

"Of course."

The commander went on. "Now and then it's claimed he is seen in human settlements. I have even heard he appears in the aeries of the Seekers or, more doubtful, the underworld dwellings of the imaginary Quel."

"They are not imaginary," Wellen commented, recalling the ma.s.sive, armored monsters.

"No?" The Dragon King was interested in pursuing the subject, but held back while Lore continued.

"No one knows what he does when he appears. He is seen and then not seen."

Wellen scratched his chin. "What sort of people have seen him?"

"My spies, but I a.s.sume they are not who you mean. Learned folk for the most part. People whose word I can trust in this matter. There have been others, some trustworthy, some not, but the majority are as I said."

"I think he must love knowledge," the scholar commented. He knew that his idea might be foolhardy, but no more than some of those ideas attempted already. How many more ridiculous plots had been hatched over the millennia as desperation grew among those seeking the dragon tome and its owner?

"What do you propose?" Lore asked, his doubts in whatever Wellen had planned quite evident.

"Something simple and straightforward, but it still required knowing where the citadel is."

"I think . . . there may be a way," Xabene interjected. She did not want to speak, but if Wellen intended to seek out the gnome again, everyone knew that she would go with him. Therefore, it behooved her to increase their chances of success as much as possible.

"And what might that be, female?" asked the Dragon King. He was as doubtful of her suggestions as Benton Lore had been of whatever plan Bedlam had come up with.

The enchantress grew thoughtful. "I'd rather not say until I've had a chance to try it. There is a problem, though."

"Of course."

"Not one beyond the skill of the enterprising Commander Lore, however," she added, smiling knowingly at the officer. "I need you to gather gra.s.s from the region where the structure rested. Gra.s.s and cloth for weaving."

"Gra.s.s?" Lore was incredulous.

"You shall have whatever you desire, female," the reptilian patriarch interrupted. His nostrils flared, sending tiny clouds of smoke flying. "But I shall expect some results. Your skills are not what they used to be."

Xabene was more confident now, despite the polite reminder of her present status. "If you can get me what I need today, than two days from now should be sufficient to find out if I'm correct, Your Majesty. What I hope to do doesn't require much sorcery. Just concentration, cunning, and some talent for weaving." She looked at her hands in disgust. "Something I thought I'd never have to do again."

"And you, Wellen Bedlam," the Dragon King said. "Is there anything beyond the usual preparations that you will need for this undertaking?"

He could think of only one thing. "Luck."

Green chuckled. The sound echoed. "That, I am afraid, is a treasure likely beyond even the gnome."

Perhaps because of the task Xabene had set before him, Benton Lore had been determined to retrieve the gra.s.s himself. He presented her with his catch only two hours after the audience with the Green Dragon. The major-domo's eyes dared the enchantress to tell him that he had failed in any way. Xabene, however, indicated she was quite satisfied with the bundle of wild gra.s.s. She took it and other materials she had requested to her chamber, where some of the other human servants had set up a device to aid her in her weaving. With it, the enchantress promised that even with her rusting skills would be able to finish the project by nightfall. Wellen was almost certain that she actually looked forward to the work, if only to keep her mind off of her former masters.

The explorer's own plans were so simple that he had much time on his hands. Part of that time he spent with the Dragon King, who more and more became simply a fellow scholar and not an emerald-scaled leviathan who could have swallowed him whole. The drake lord told him more about the Dragonrealm and how the Dragon Kings ruled it.

There were thirteen kings and twenty-five or so dukes. The truth as to their origins was lost to the drakes; as far as most were concerned, the past really did not matter. It was where the Green Dragon differed from most of his brethren. "The past matters very greatly. We are but the most recent monarchs of this land. I do not think, human, that I am remissss in believing that our predecessorssss also thought that they would rule forever."

It was a sobering thought even to the human. He thought of his own race and the ever-growing menace of the Sons of the Wolf back home. Most thought the raiders were a temporary menace, but Wellen sometimes wondered.

As she had promised, Xabene did finish the weaving portion of her plan. The enchantress forbid anyone to touch or even look at her work, but not because she was embarra.s.sed about its quality. With her meager magic, the sorceress-turned-weaver had instigated the next step, which would take all night to complete itself and was so sensitive to outside influence that even Bedlam, with his limited abilities, might disturb it.

The night pa.s.sed so uneventfully that Wellen, unable to believe it, found he still could not sleep. Again, the sounds around him made him think of either Shade or the Lords of the Dead. Sleep finally did come, but then his dreams were haunted by cloth-enshrouded specters and rotting ghouls that slowly stalked him.

Morning, as horribly quick as it came, was a blessing by comparison.

Xabene remained ensconced in her chambers. What she was doing was still a mystery, since she had forbidden even Wellen to enter, but the smell of melting wax wafted from the entranceway. Feeling rather useless, again, he decided to see if he could convince the Dragon King to teach him how to bring his abilities to the surface and use them with some consistency. The idea had originally come to him because of the constant nagging in his head. His premonitions could not cope with dragons nearby, even if those creatures were either indifferent or, in the case of the monarch himself, fairly friendly. It was especially irritating this morning.

The dragon, however, had been reluctant so far to instruct him. As with many things, he had not said why. Wellen, who had seen few other drakes during his stay here, had an idea why. Making use of humans was one thing. While Bedlam knew that Benton Lore was very important to the leviathan and even respected by the Green Dragon's clans, part of that respect was due to the knowledge that he was fiercely loyal to his lord. He had been born and raised in one of the human settlements and considered it as much his land as his lord's.

The scholar, on the other hand, was an outsider. Not merely someone from a neighboring kingdom, but from a land beyond the control of any Dragon King. He was an enigma and, as Wellen had discovered, the drakes disliked, perhaps even feared, enigmas.

A guard met him in the tunnel just a few yards from his destination. "Your presence is requested by His Majesty." "I was just going to him."

The guard insisted on leading him back the short distance. Protocol was protocol even in the kingdoms of the Dragon Kings.

Raising his head, the emerald behemoth acknowledged the human's arrival. "Master Bedlam. So good of you to come so quickly."

"I was on my way to see you when your guardsman found me."

"Then you heard."

"Heard?" Wellen's hopes rose. "Shade's returned?"

"Alas, no. This concerns an intruder captured in the eastern edge of my forest. A most unique human."

"And how does that concern me?"

The dragon's mouth curled into a toothy smile. "He claims to know you."

"Know me?" Wellen tried to recall who had been left in charge of the Heron's Wing. With all that had happened, however, he could not even summon up a distinct face, much less a name. "Who?"

'Riming his head, the dragon commanded, "You may bring the creature in."

Two guards stepped from a side corridor into the cavern chamber. Between them was one of the last people that the explorer had ever thought to see again.

"Asaalk!"

"Master Bedlam, would you so kindly please tell these two that I am friend, not foe?" The blue man partially turned so that Wellen could see the ropes that bound his arms back.

"You do know thissss . . . this creature?" The drake lord was visibly amused by the northerner's blue skin.

"I do, Your Majesty. He is likely the only other survivor of the column, unless, of course, some made it back to those waiting for us." The hopeful explorer looked to Asaalk for confirmation.

"Alas, I do not know," Prentiss Asaalk replied with great sadness. "Until yesterday, I was a prisoner of the beast who rules the land to the east, yes!"

"The Purple Dragon?"

"The Lord Purple, yes. I was not laughing, either, despite his peculiar appearance. He is not a forgiving master."

"He is not," agreed the Green Dragon, interjecting at this point. "It issss a wonder you succeeded to escape!"

Prentiss Asaalk bowed. "Master Bedlam will tell you that I can be enterprising when I need to be, yes?"

Wellen nodded. Deep down, he was sorry that it had not been Yalso who had survived, although he knew that could not have ever been the case, having witnessed the captain's death himself. He was ashamed that he was less thrilled by Asaalk's survival than he would have been if the mariner had walked through the door. The blue man had probably gone through at least as much h.e.l.l as he had.

The huge dragon nodded to the guards. From their faces, they were not that pleased to release the blue man, but when their master commanded they obeyed.

"My great thanks, Your August Majesty!" Asaalk rubbed his arms where rope marked had formed.

"In grat.i.tude, you will tell us all, in detail, of your captivity and your escape."

"Only too gladly!" With gusto, Prentiss Asaalk talked about being thrown from his horse and stumbling his way north. Twice he had thought that the dragon was coming for him, but both times it veered away. The northerner, weaponless, had nevertheless continued on bravely to the north. There were incidents, but his skills of survival had always come through for him in the end.

Until he had been spotted by servants of the Purple Dragon. His strength depleted, the northerner had been easily captured. Asaalk was taken before the drake lord himself and only quick thinking had saved his life. He had immediately discerned that here was a beast who admired knowledge and gathered it to him as if it were gold.

"And what did you have to offer him?" the Green Dragon interrupted.

"I told him of my homeland and of the place I came from. I . . . embellished a bit for him, yes, in order to keep his interest." The blue man glanced at Bedlam. "You, I think, would have done the same."

Wellen nodded.

Asaalk skimmed through his captivity, something the scholar could not blame him for doing. It could not have been a pleasant time. Escape had come by accident. He had been fitted with a magical collar to keep him under control, but after a couple of days, he had discovered that the control was weakening. His probing fingers came across a crack that had formed when they had sealed the device around his neck.

"By the end of the third day, it threatened me no more. I wasted no time, yes. When my chance came, I walked out of their lives like a cat." The rest of his tale the blue man summed up in a few sentences. He had headed west, knowing from information he had gathered that here he might find sanctuary. "And what do I find, but a face so familiar to me! This is fate, yes?"

The northerner's exaggerated speech pattern made Wellen wince. He was certain by now that Asaalk's shifting from one manner of speech to another was calculated. Now and then, the blue man might slip, but for the most part, he seemed to purposely change. Why he continued to do that was something the scholar doubted he wanted to know about. Perhaps now that he was safe again, the blue man's ambitions were returning. Did Asaalk think he could toy with the Dragon King?

It hardly mattered for now, Bedlam reminded himself. What Prentiss Asaalk chose to do was up to him. Wellen had his own path to follow.

The northerner apparently did not think so. He strode up to the shorter man, clasped him on the shoulders, and bellowed, "It is good to see you again, yes! I thought you dead! Now, the two of us can leave this place together and return home!"

"Home?" Once, he had planned to try and start a colony here, one that would not have to deal with the machinations occurring across the sea. That idea had died a lamented death with the unfortunates in the column. "How can we return? The Heron's Wing is. . ."

"Is still anch.o.r.ed off the sh.o.r.e where we left it. It has not been so long since we departed, has it?"

It had not been, but Wellen had a.s.sumed that the rest of the expedition had either departed in haste or been taken by the minions of Purple. "It's still there?"

"Before my escape,"-here Asaalk gave him a theatrical impression of craftiness-"I gained access to a device that could study most every region of the cursed purple one's kingdom, including the sh.o.r.e."

"Ssssuch a device is known to me," Green interrupted. "All of us control such artifacts. There are other methods available a.s.sss well."

Home! It almost seemed too good to be true! "Could we see the ship from here?"

"That issss doubtful. While we may call one another brethren, each of ussss . . . each of us guards our domain very carefully. Not that we do not have our spies, of course. Finding out about this vessel is another concern, however. Purple is particularly jealous at the moment, what with his prize stolen, and so he has stepped up his defenses. Perhaps after a time I will be able to overcome his spells. It would take many days of work."

"We can't afford to wait," Wellen reminded him. "Shade can't afford to wait. As soon as Xabene completes her work, we have to move." Even now, it was probably too late. Yet, he still could not believe that Shade was dead.

Asaalk listened with great attentiveness. "Please. What is it you speak of? Who is this Xabene?"

"I'm Xabene." The enchantress was standing by the entrance to the Green Dragon's imperial chamber. How long she had stood there, Wellen did not know. Somehow, she had found yet another form-enhancing outfit, again black, but this time it was a little more practical. Still a gown, yet it was st.u.r.dier, more able to combat the elements and plant life.

She was no less desirable and she likely knew it.

The lengthy northerner eyed her with open appreciation. He shook his head and said to Wellen, "Here I struggle and you have found this one! All adventures should be so treacherous!"

"Oh, it was . . . for both of us." The enchantress gave him a winning smile, which made Bedlam scowl. She then smiled at Wellen and joined him, giving clear indication to Prentiss Asaalk where her interests lay.

"Human relations are always sssso amusing," the reptilian monarch baldly stated, "but there are other, more pressing, concerns. How goes your task, female?"

The enchantress did not take kindly to the drake lord's general refusal to acknowledge that she had a name. "It goes well, dragon. I have to return in an hour and begin the next stage." She had been up for hours already, but fatigue was not evident. Sorcery gave Xabene life where nothing else could. "After the next stage, we just have to let it sit until it is ready."

"And when will that be?"

"Tomorrow sometime." She held her head high. "As I promised. It should function perfectly for our purposes. I could, of course, do more if I had the time."

"What is it we speak of?" Asaalk wanted to know. Wellen saw no harm in telling him. "A way of tracking down an elusive building."

"You jest."

"Did the Dragon King Purple never speak of the gnome?" The northerner nodded. "There was talk of such a creature and his sanctum, yes. For a time, I was questioned, but I knew nothing. What does this have to do with a building that . . . hides?"

"It vanished. I was standing almost as close to it as I am to you."

"Aaaah! This explains much, yes! Small wonder they did not expend so much effort on me! I know of the value that the Dragon King put on the place. If it is gone, he would be very furious."

The Green Dragon chuckled at that. "He issss, indeed, human! He would rather his get all be slaughtered than lose the gnome."

"It is a book he wants, I think."