Green's more vicious counterpart had evidently told Asaalk more than Wellen had first imagined. "That's right. A book." "And you also want this book?"

The scholar was saved from trying to explain by Xabene, who cryptically said, "Among other things, if possible."

Prentiss Asaalk seemed to measure Wellen. "And you plan to go to this place then? You plan to risk the evil of the land's monarch?"

"I do."

"I have not found you only to lose you again!" The blue man put a companionable hand on the explorer's shoulder. Wellen tried not to wince at the strength Asaalk used when he squeezed. "Then I must go with you!"

"That won't be necessary," Xabene blurted.

"But it will! I must see to it that Master Bedlam here survives to return home and claim his glory!"

The enchantress grew rigid and glanced at Wellen. She did not appear to like it when the blue man spoke of him departing. The thought had been discussed on and off, but no one had truly believed he would be leaving. Until Asaadk's return, it had been a.s.sumed that there was no longer a vessel waiting for him. Without a good ship, the explorer was trapped here. Now, however, it appeared he had a defmite means of escape. Whether he made use of it was up to Wellen.

Prentiss Asaalk was not going to back down. Bedlam knew the man well enough to realize that. It might be that the northerner would come in handy. They could hardly go marching in with Benton Lore and his soldiers and expect the gnome to listen. More important, they could hardly expect the dragon Purple to ignore a small army. A diversion had been planned by the lord of the Dagora Forest, but this would only work if it was more noticeable than the truth. Three or four people riding swiftly and shielded by some spell of the Green Dragon would have a better chance of avoiding detection. If one of those people, Prentiss Asaalk, knew something about the workings of Purple's kingdom, it might increase their chances. While the Green Dragon was the best source of information, they could hardly bring him along.

"All right," Wellen told him, trying not to sigh in resignation. He turned to Xabene, but she was finding ways to avoid his eyes. The time was coming for the two of them to ask and answer some questions for one another.

It may be that the Dragon King saw some of this, though it was more likely he had his own questions and answers to discuss. "Human," he said to Asaalk. "These guards will take you to a place where you may feed and rest. I have things that I must discuss with Master Bedlam. You will be summoned when your presence is required."

The northerner bowed and obediently followed his guards out. Wellen knew that Asaalk did not like being dismissed like that, but protesting to a dragon was utter foolishness.

When it was certain that the northerner was far enough away that he could not possibly hear them converse, the Dragon King asked, "You trust this peculiar-skinned human, Master Bedlam?"

"I do." He was basing his a.s.sumption on pure conjecture; with his head throbbing as it was, Asaalk could have been ready to murder him and he would not have known. Still, the two of them shared a bond. They were outsiders in a mad world.

Green tilted his head to one side and called out, "You may enter now, Benton Lore."

The black man stepped in from one of the outer corridors. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"You are certain, Wellen Bedlam, that you might trust this man?"

"I am . . . I think so, anyway." What were they driving at? What was wrong with Prentiss Asaalk? From Xabene's perplexed expression, he gathered she did not understand, either. Disliking the man in general was one thing, but sinister mysteries was another.

"Lore, tell him what you ssssensed."

The pepper-haired warlock looked at the curious duo and calmly reported, "Nothing."

Wellen shrugged. "So what then is the problem? If you sensed nothing amiss, then why should-"

"That was not what I said," Lore interrputed. "I said I sensed nothing. Your companion is magically blank to me." "a.s.sss he isss to me," added the leviathan.

"I do not understand."

The reptilian monarch smiled grimly, his toothy smile, as ever, making Wellen uneasy. "What Lore seeks to say, is that as far as the blue-skinned one is concerned, we do not feel his presence on a magical level."

"He does not exist," completed Lore. "Bodily, yes, but the man you call Prentiss Asaallc is not altogether human."

Chapter Fifteen.

Wellen spent several hours with Prentiss Asaalk, but unlike the Green Dragon and Benton Lore, not once did he sense anything amiss. Asaalk seemed a bit more flamboyant than he recalled, but not enough that the scholar could interpret the difference as anything significant. Still, Wellen was willing to think about what his host had said. The Dragon King was of the opinion that Asaalk might be a spy of sorts for the Purple Dragon. It might not be the blue man at all, but rather something or someone made to resemble him. Bedlam was therefore careful about what he discussed with the possible double and regretted that the subjects of Xabene's work and the gnome had come up.

In order to keep everything seemingly normal, Asaalk had been given one of the chambers near those of Wellen and the enchantress. The guards, however, were tripled in strength. No one informed a.s.salk that there had ever been a change in numbers.

Day had pa.s.sed into the night, although that was not a simple thing to realize in the perpetually lit caverns. Wellen first knew it from the exhaustion that threatened to overtake him. A short conversation with Lore had verified the lateness of the hour. Asaalk had already retired and his chamber was carefully watched. No one wanted a repeat of the attack by the Lords of the Dead. The Green Dragon was very certain that this was a ploy set up by his counterpart to the southeast and not the necromancers. The style was identifiable, the leviathan had informed him, even if the plot was not one of Purple's most cunning. Its flaws had been spotted almost instantly by the master of the Dagora Forest.

The Green Dragon intended to turn that ploy against its originator.

"He thinks we do not suspect that this creature is possibly not the real human. The frustration of losing the gnome has made him act in too much ha.s.ssste!" The reptilian monarch had greatly enjoyed his counterpart's gross error.

Wellen was not so confident. He could not help wondering if there was more to the situation than they knew. Had the other Dragon King grown that careless?

The scholar paused when he reached Xabene's chamber. A thick curtain covered the entranceway, but he could tell it was dark within. Wellen had wanted to talk to her, but waking the enchantress would not start the conversation off in the correct mood. This had to be done just right.

He continued on to his own chamber, nodded to a couple human guards . . . did the rest of Green's clan have nothing to do with humans? . . . and brushed aside the curtain as he entered.

Xabene lay casually across his bed, waiting for him. She smiled slyly at his dumbfounded expression. "I had to talk to you, Wellen Bedlam."

Her formal use of his name did not bode well. He strode to the bed and stood before her, arms crossed. With languid movements, the well-formed sorceress rose and faced him.

"Still untrusting?"

"I trust you." He stepped back when she came too near. Xabene laughed lightly at his reaction.

"I can see that you do. Don't worry, I won't come any closer than this . . . unless you decide to let me."

"What do you want?"

She folded her own arms and turned away. Wellen could not help but follow every detail of her movement. The ebony-haired enchantress had resumed her role of seductress. Bedlam was not certain whether he welcomed the return or not.

"I've wanted many things in my life. Most of them were beyond me before I sold myself to the Lords of the Dead for power. When I was finally able to gather those things, I discovered that they were not what I had expected. There were always other things, though, so I was not unhappy so long as I had those goals, those treasures, to pursue."

Xabene turned around again. Wellen broke the momentary silence to ask, "What does that have to do with me? Am I supposed to be like those treasures? You no longer have to toy with me for the necromancers; does that mean it's time to turn elsewhere?"

In response, she took hold of Wellen and kissed him hard. Like a candle's flame abruptly doused, the world around the scholar winked out of existence. His world was now the woman in his arms. Shade, the gnome, the Lords of the Dead, the Dragon Kings . . . they seemed such distant things that he was almost tempted to believe he had dreamed them.

When they finally separated, Xabene once more had a calculating look in her eye, but this time Bedlam had a better idea of what it concerned. "I still don't believe in love at first sight," she said. "But I do believe that two people can find that they are meant for one another. I was bothered by that thought when I first noticed how I reacted to you. You struck something within me that should have been as dead as . . . " Xabene forced the unspoken thought away. "Let's just say that I knew I was yours even when I fought not to be."

"I'm not certain I understand some of that."

"It doesn't matter, but something else does. You know what I was like, Wellen; you know what I've done. Can you accept me as I am now?"

He blinked. "I thought I had."

"Kissing me doesn't necessarily answer that. I've done far more with men before and neither side thought of love." "Are you the same Xabene as then?"

"Only in form."

"You almost sound like Shade," the scholar commented. "My answer still holds. If what I've seen these past few days is the true you . . . and not some playacting like both you and Asaalk seem to enjoy . . . then I have no intention of giving you up."

"What about your vessel?"

Wellen had forgotten about that. "If it exists, which is doubtful, it has room for one more." He grimaced. "It has room for many more now. More likely, the Dragonrealm is now my home."

She took hold of him again. "Do you still intend your madness with the gnome?"

"I do. I owe Shade that much."

Xabene sighed. "I suppose I do too." The enchantress kissed him briefly, then began to lead him toward the bed. "If we are destined to walk arm-in-arm into the maw of Purple, then, let us do it as one, not two."

"Xabene . . . "

A finger to his lips silenced him. "No argument, please." She smiled and though her smile was seductive, it was not calculating, this time. "After all, tomorrow may be too late."

He could not argue that no matter how much he might have wanted to. Tomorrow was all too likely to end in disaster . . . and one or both of them would probably be dead.

The blame, much like the choice, would be his.

All too soon it was the next day. With much enthusiasm, Xabene revealed her handiwork to Wellen and the others. There was no way of avoiding the inclusion of Prentiss Asaalk, or whatever or whoever the blue figure might actually be, from the gathering. If Asaalk was other than he appeared, to exclude him was to warn the one who had sent him that the plot had been uncovered. The Green Dragon did not care for events to occur that way.

At Lore's order, two servants had brought a large, oak table into the cavern chamber so that the enchantress could better display her handiwork. The results, needless to say, were curious enough to bring even the Dragon King to silence.

"Thissss issss a tapestry of ssssorts," the leviathan finally stated.

"It is," she responded. "Given more time, I could have made it much more elaborate, but that would've probably taken years."

"Time we do not have," Wellen agreed. If this worked, they would likely be leaving soon after. The Dragon King wanted everything perfectly coordinated. It was possible that the citadel would move again, too. The nearer they were when they did their final check of its location, the less chance they had of riding fruitlessly back and forth across the plains.

"How does it work?" Asaalk asked rather eagerly.

The tapestry was fairly simple. Three feet in length and two across, it barely fit what Wellen would have thought the size requirements of a tapestry. He recalled the huge, intricate cloths hanging in the great houses and the university corridors. This . . . this seemed more something to wrap a small baby in.

Its pattern was also simple, although time, again, had played a hand in that. The explorer recognized a crude representation of the region where the gnome's five-sided citadel had stood until recently. The material used to weave that section was different from the rest. He suspected it was the gra.s.s Xabene had requested. That she had been able to make use of it in her weaving indicated that some of her sorcery still remained.

The hills and gra.s.slands were easy to identify, but one mark puzzled him. A five-pointed star. He a.s.sumed it must represent the citadel, but it stood far away from the field, almost as if it were part of some other ill.u.s.tration not yet complete.

Wellen repeated Asaalk's question.

"The best way to explain it is to show you," Xabene replied. She turned the tapestry toward her, then pulled a small crystal from a pouch on her waist. Nothing their eyes, she held up the piece. "I used this in an attempt to spy on the gnome while he worked. I also used this and. .." Her eyes lit up and she rummaged through the pouch. Xabene retrieved a tattered notebook and thrust it toward Wellen. ". . . and this to search for you."

He looked at the ragged object. It was his notebook. The scholar felt a momentary rush of affection, as if a favored pet had been returned to him. The journal was all he really had left from his once-peaceful life.

"It occurred to me," the enchantress continued, "that I could use the crystal in another way." So saying, Xabene lowered the crystal onto the waxy star. She held it in place for several seconds, closing her eyes during that period and whispering something to herself. When she opened them again, there was an intense eagerness.

"What did you do?" Prentiss Asaalk asked. Everyone, including the Dragon King, had turned their attention to the sorceress during her brief display.

She glanced down at the tapestry, smiled widely, and indicated that they, too, should study her creation.

The star was no longer situated under the crystal. It now marked a spot in the northwestern region outlined on the tapestry.

Xabene leaned back and put her hands on her hips, pride at her accomplishment radiating from her. "There is where the gnome is!"

"So simple!" Wellen marveled. He touched the star lightly, almost afraid he would nudge it away. Examination proved, however, that it was as much a part of the ill.u.s.tration as the plains were.

"Not so simple. I had to chip the crystal to make this work. There are fragments incorporated in the wax. Only because of them does the tapestry work."

One observer, however, was not so impressed with the results and what they indicated. "That cannot be! From all that my ssssourcessss have informed me, there ha.s.sss been no ssssign of the citadel! It doessss not ssssit there! Not sssso closssse!"

"It must!" The enchantress looked ready to fight to protect her success. She had proven that her abilities were worth something even without the added power that the Lords of the Dead had given to her. One Dragon King was not going to make that success a failure. "I planned it all out carefully! If the star is there, then that's where the building is!"

"Then where issss it, female? Floating high in the ssssky? I think one of my cousins would have sssseen it there!"

Wellen's eyes narrowed as he considered the suggestion. The sky, obviously, was not a proper choice, but what if the gnome had travelled in the opposite direction? He recalled how the Quel had burst from the ground. They lived down there; why not the gnome?

The short scholar leaned over the area where the star was located. "He's taken it below and shielded it."

"What?" Prentiss Asaalk stepped back as if struck. Not the reaction Wellen would have expected from the true northerner, but it was possible that Asaalk, out of his depth now, was truly surprised.

"What do you sssspeak . . . speak of, Master Bedlam? The cursed gnome has taken it under the surface?"

"Why not? Is it beyond him?"

"Hardly! Yet . . . " The Green Dragon could come up with no argument against Bedlam's suggestion. Xabene was visibly grateful for his quick thinking.

Pressing on, Wellen added, "We have to move as quickly as possible. You were the one who first said that. He could send it elsewhere at any time. An entire army might waste weeks hunting him, even if he's only limited to the plains . . . which we do not know is a certainty."

The Dragon King shifted. His claws sc.r.a.ped at the rocky surface of the cavern floor. "Below . . . and moving. Hissss skillssss never cease to amaze me!"

"A question, Master Bedlam," the blue man said. "How will you speak with the gnome even if you do find where he is located? He will be far underground, yes? It will make for difficult hearing."

"I doubt if the gnome pays any less attention to the outside world now that he has moved under the earth. Despite his hermitic existence, he's proved to be very interested in what is going on around him. That's one of the reasons I hope to contact him this time."

"And a.s.sss you indicated, human, time issss a great factor." The drake lord considered matters. He seemed to come to a decision he found both daring and dismaying. The emerald leviathan studied the scholar for several breaths, then finally asked, "Are you and yours prepared to leave within the hour?"

The Dragon King very much wanted to finish this, but Wellen thought that Green might be pushing ahead too swiftly. Wellen would have preferred to leave after nightfall, thinking that quick enough, but as he had realized before, one did not argue with a drake.

Bedlam exchanged looks with Xabene. She nodded, seeing the inevitable.

"We can be ready," he said with confidence.