Nearly dragging Xabene along, he rushed to where the warlock had made his last stand. While Wellen could not forgive the mad spellcaster, as with Serkadion Manee, he wished Shade no injury. Wellen admitted to himself that there was still a trace of compa.s.sion for the warlock. In the same position, the scholar wondered how he would have held up. Would he have been as insane as Shade? Worse?

They dug their way into the pile. The scholar was amazed at both the sheer number of books and how none of them had been damaged in any way. Serkadion Manee's a.s.sault had initially surprised him, for he had not thought the gnome would risk his own work. Now he saw that the gnome had a.s.sured the condition of the dragon tomes before sending them at his adversary.

Deeper and deeper they burrowed, Wellen as swiftly as he could and Xabene with much reluctance. As far as she was probably concerned, two great problems had been removed from her life. Wellen was aware that the only reason she helped was because she knew he would not leave without trying.

The literary avalanche gave way in short order to his efforts, but still he could not find Shade. Bedlam began moving around the ma.s.sive pile, thinking perhaps that he had chosen the wrong location to dig.

Shoving aside yet another dozen tomes, Xabene cursed in the name of her former masters and said, "Wellen, we have to forget him! I think it might be a good idea if we search instead for a way out of this place!"

"Not without Shade! He saved your life, remember!"

"And we've repaid him for that! Just because it turned out to be a ploy on his part . . ." She shivered, recalling something for the first time. "I wonder what he did to them. He must have defeated them." Her eyes grew round. "G.o.ds, what power and skill!"

"Thank you . . ." came a hissing voice from where they had left the unconscious gnome. "It wa.s.sss really nothing at all!"

A leviathan in scale armor, the Purple Dragon was a thing of nightmares. He filled the hall, so ma.s.sive was he even in humanoid form. The dragon's head crest leering down on the twosome made him come nearly to the ceiling: Within the helm, they saw the reptilian eyes burning. Now and then, a forked tongue would dart out of a mouth filled with jagged teeth. The image of a monstrous knight was so real it was almost impossible to believe that the armor was actually just the Dragon King's scaly hide twisted by the spell that allowed him this shape.

With one hand he carried the unmoving form of Serkadion Manee. The other was raised toward the duo.

"You are mine at la.s.ssst, manling! I have everyting now!" He indicated the two should come to him.

Wellen's body rose, although Wellen himself tried not to obey. Xabene was already moving toward the armored figure. He caught a glimpse of her horrified expression and wondered about his own.

The Purple Dragon made them pause just within arm's length. One swipe of his clawed hand could have torn both their throats out. This near, the scholar noticed that the drake was not as at ease as he had tried to make them believe. There were signs of strain. Wellen could see that Purple was feeling the weight of trying to maintain his control over the situation.

If nothing else, it was the sibilance in his voice that most betrayed the Dragon King. The more excited or weary he became, the more the hissing grew dominant. "At la.s.sst! Now all I need issss the interfering warlock who wa.s.sss the final sssstraw!" The drake gave a raspy chuckle. "If not for him, I might sssstill be sssstruggling! Not that the outcome wa.s.sss not inevitable regardlesssss! I would have sssstill triumphed, jusssst a bit later!"

Wellen and Xabene once more moved without their own consent. Lugging the gnome with him, the Dragon King stepped between them and confronted the sea of knowledge under which Serkadion Manee had attempted to drown Shade.

"Let it be a.s.sss it wa.s.sss."

The dragon tomes flew back to their various shelves. There did not seem to be any order to what the Purple Dragon did. He did not seem to care about organizing the books, merely putting them where they would be out of the way. For the moment, Shade, the last loose end, was all that concerned him.

When all the books had flown away, however, there was no trace of the hooded warlock. The Dragon King stalked over to where the center of the mountain of tomes had stood and peered down at the floor.

"Bah!" He turned back to Wellen. "Your comrade issss either a victim of thissss d.a.m.nable little ssssprite or ha.s.sss fled in mindlessss fear at my coming! Either way, he will trouble ussss no more!"

That Shade had turned coward was not a notion that Wellen Bedlam believed. That the warlock had fled, however, he found more likely. With Serkadion Manee's spell of rejuvenation not to his liking and the Dragon King now in control, there was no reason for Shade to stay.

Yet, he had fought with Manee over Wellen's freedom.

The Purple Dragon's breathing quickened. He put Serkadion Manee down and leaned against one of the corridor walls. For a brief moment, the horrific warrior shimmered.

Wellen found he could move his fingers. It was not a great victory in the scheme of things, but it was a victory nonetheless. It meant that the Dragon King was weaker.

Slowly, the drake regained control of himself. He glared at the two humans, daring either of them to comment on his weakness. Still under his spell, they could not have said anything even if they had been insane enough to want to. Satisfied, the drake contemplated his next move.

"There issss no need for the two of you for now," he informed them. The truth, Bedlam knew, was that like Serkadion Manee, it was becoming harder and harder for Purple to spread his power over so much. If he could find another way of keeping his two human prisoners secure, then it would allow him to redirect his efforts. "I shall sssend you to the royal caverns. Then, when the time permitssss, I will be better able to dissssect what information you know from your mindssss."

He waved a negligent hand at them, then hissed in anger when they simply stood there. The Dragon King stared at them long and hard. Wellen felt a faint tug, but it soon faded.

"Why do you not vanish? What holdssss you here?" The Purple Dragon picked up the wizened sorcerer at his feet and held him at eye level. "Thissss issss your doing! It will not ssssave you, though! Your precioussss tomessss are now mine and they shall stay mine!" A sinewy tongue darted out and in. "You would like me to a.s.sssk you for aid, would you not? You think I am foolish enough to rissssk your essscape by freeing you from thissss sssspell for any length of time? You will neither move nor sssspeak until I can be certain your cooperation issss a.s.sured!"

The fearsome knight lowered his motionless captive and then scanned the library hall in both directions. There seemed no end to the corridor no matter which way one looked. Cursing, he turned back to the two helpless humans.

Wellen found himself able to move once more. He looked up expectantly at the Dragon King.

"There issss no need for me to wa.s.ssste my strength on you, manling. Neither you nor your mate have shown power of any ssssignificant level. Therefore, you will hardly be able to esssscape me should you both be mad enough to try."

The scholar was well aware of their present chances. Later, things might change, but for now they had little choice but to obey. "I understand."

"I am certain you do. Both of you."

Xabene gasped as mastery of her body was once again hers. She quickly nodded her agreement.

"We undersssstand one another. Good." The Dragon King studied the corridor behind where he had originally materialized. He nodded to himself and added, "Ssssince I may not teleport you out of thissss place, we niusssst find a portal like the one we entered by. You two will lead the way . . . jusssst in ca.s.ssse."

Wellen reached for the enchantress, but the drake's free hand came between then. Nothing was said but die message was clear. The Dragon King did not trust their apparent weakness that much. He would not allow his captives to conspire against him.

Side-by-side but nearly an arm's length apart, the two began walking. The horrific knight followed only a few paces back, Serkadion Manee's small form not slowing his stride in the least. The sorcerer was carried the way one might carry a light sack, an ign.o.ble position if ever there was one.

Their trek began in silence, the Dragon King possibly taking inventory of his gains. Wellen doubted that his success was going to be as complete as he imagined. Something about the citadel, especially the libraries, seemed to hint at a reluctance to accept this new master. If defeating Serkadion Manee was all that the drake lord had needed to do to triumph, then why was he unwilling to teleport within the pentagon even if teleportation out of it was impossible? Surely if everything was now his, then there was no danger.

If that were the case, Purple would not be using them as shields. No, the Dragon King knew that the battle was not yet over. He had captured only the master, not the servant.

After a time, the scholar decided to chance talking to his captor. Anything to break the leaden silence that suppressed them all. "Is Prentiss a.s.saalk truly dead?"

Almost to his surprise, the reptilian sovereign responded. "The gnome had the right of it. Your azure companion quickly proved himsssself too devioussss to live. I tolerate ambition in thosssse who are usssseful, but only a.s.sss long a.s.sss they undersssstand their place. I knew he would never undersssstand and sssso I played on hissss very arrogance and ambition." A hissing laugh. "There are collarssss and there are collarssss. a.s.sss if I would be so foolish a.s.sss to trusssst him with the ta.s.sssk of sssseeking you out and bringing you back to me!"

Asaalk had offered him to the Dragon King. Would I have done the same in his position? he asked himself.

"There will be one for you and your female eventually. Collarssss that will only teach you your place, however, unlike some of the otherssss I have ussssed in the pa.s.ssst. I needed the blue one'ssss appearance and mind but not hissss untrusssstworthy waysss. The collar he ignorantly donned drained him of all memoriesssss. It alwayssss workssss sssso much better when they are not aware of what issss to happen. Ala.s.sss, it meant his eventual death, for in draining his memories, it destroyed what was left." A pause. "Pray that you do not annoy me a.s.sss he did. I might forget which collar to pressssent you."

The last brought a return to silence. Wellen exchanged glances with Xabene, but that was the extent of their communication. Escape was essential. The reptilian monarch's hint at their future had made that all too clear. Unlike the Green Dragon, this drake lord had no qualms about disposing of his guests on a whim.

Shelf after shelf after shelf of book after book after book. All of them forming the acc.u.mulation of the gnome's millennia-old search for knowledge. Did any of them hold a key to their rescue? He would have liked to thumb through a few of the volumes, if only to see what was contained within.

"Sssso much knowledge," the Dragon King commented in what might have been an admiring tone. "Will there be time for all of it?"

For just that brief instant, the scholar and the Dragon King shared a desire.

"There are no t.i.tles on the sssspinessss. How does one know what issss contained in what?"

The question had bothered Wellen, too, but unless the drake chose to release Serkadion Manee now, he doubted he would ever find out.

"Manling."

As the Dragon King had not stopped, neither did Bedlam. He turned and waited for his captor to speak again.

"Doessss thissss place sssseem almost alive to you?"

He gave it some thought. "It wouldn't surprise me."

"Agreed." Burning eyes darted from one bookshelf to the next. "Sssso many marvelssss . . ." The look of admiration died as the drake lord turned his gaze forward. "But the one I could do without issss thissss cursed, endlesssss hall!"

The words no sooner escaped his lipless mouth then they saw a lone metal door in the distance. The discovery was so abrupt that Wellen eyed the ensorcelled gnome with some suspicion. Did Serkadion Manee still have mastery over his former domain?

The door, when they at last reached it, was a simple iron thing with only a handle. There was no lock, but then the ancient sorcerer had never needed one. Pausing, the party stared at the exit for several seconds. What lay on the other side only Serkadion Manee knew. After some silent debate, the Dragon King looked at the explorer. "You!" he hissed, thrusting a clawed finger at Wellen. "You will open it!"

Bedlam stepped forward, knowing he had no choice. All he could do was pray as his fingers wrapped around the handle and pulled the door open.

Xabene gasped.

"Nothing . . ." murmured the Dragon King. "Almosssst a dissssappointment."

His heart still pounding in his ears, Wellen surveyed what had been hidden behind the door. Only another hallway. No trap. No visible threat.

Save perhaps to one's eyes. Evidently, Serkadion Manee had his whimsical moments, for there seemed no other explanation for the design and pattern of the place.

They entered an immense hall that was a chess master's board run amok. The floor, the walls, and the rounded ceiling were all covered in a black and white pattern resembling one ma.s.sive game board. There were no doors, save at the far, far end. Neither were there fixtures or decorations. Because of the pattern, it was even hard to tell where the floor ended and the walls began. WeIlen would not have been surprised if the party could have walked up one of the walls without even noticing the change.

"What issss thissss new madness? My head poundssss jusssst sssstaring at it!" Purple, squinting, turned to his two mobile prisoners. "The female will go first, I think. A few paces ahead. Then you and I, manling. Side-by-side. If you should stray even a foot beyond my reach, I will act. I do not need to touch you to kill you."

"I understand."

A taloned finger sc.r.a.ped the stubble that was growing on the scholar's neck. "I am sure that you do."

The trio started down the hall at a slow but steady pace. From his position, Wellen studied the profile of the horrific warrior. The Purple Dragon, marching along from square to square, looked like the soul survivor of some ma.s.sive game in which he played both knight and king. The scholar pictured an entire board of such figures, with Serkadion Manee for some reason still coming to mind as the opposing lord. Xabene was a queen, but one whose side she was he had not figured out. As for his own position, Wellen could only see himself as a p.a.w.n in the middle.

But it is the p.a.w.n in the middle who starts the opening gambit sometimes . . .

It was a peculiar thought and he could not say what had caused him to summon it. Chess was a game he had once played avidly, but not during the past few years. In the end, the expedition had demanded his complete devotion. There had been no time for games.

"Issss there no hall in thissss accursed place that doessss not sssstretch on and on and on?" the Dragon King complained. The strain was beginning to show on the drake. Not only had he exhausted much power in escaping his prison and capturing Manee, but he was expending even more keeping the gnome secure while also, at least so Wellen a.s.sumed, probing for any sorcerous surprises left by the citadel's former master.

It rose through the floor, clad in black mail and plate armor, simply decorated but skillfully crafted. A helm obscured all trace of the fighter's countenance. In his gauntleted hands, the dark knight held a battle-ax nearly two-thirds the size of Wellen himself. As for the mysterious warrior, he topped the Dragon King in both height and build.

"A challenge?" mocked the drake. "No challenge at all!" He raised his free hand.

The newcomer glowed liquid-metal red.

Purple suddenly snarled and withdrew his hand as if something had bitten it. While he rubbed it, the silent guardian took two steps forward, then shifted a square to his right, bringing him parallel to the rounded form of Serkadion Manee.

Another figure, also black, rose behind the original position of the first. This one was smaller, but clad in nearly identical armor. He looked no less threatening for being shorter, although the ebony mace and shield he carried might have had something to do with that. The second guardian took two steps forward, then also waited.

The Dragon King hissed.

Scarlet tendrils of sorcery entwined the two attackers.

The larger one shook them off like so much mist. He took another step forward, then two to his left so that he ended up facing Xabene, who quickly backed away to where Wellen was standing.

After a brief struggle with the drake lord's attack, the second warrior took a single step toward the party.

Behind the black figures, two more, identical to the smaller one, joined the confrontation. Far to the scholar's left, a different gladiator rose. This one was almost as tall as the lead figure, but slimmer and carrying a crimson longbow. A sleek, glittering arrow of gold was already notched.

"We have to go back to the libraries," Xabene whispered. "I don't think the Dragon King will find these so simple to defeat!"

Nodding, Bedlam glanced back in order to locate the doorway . . . and found that it no longer existed. "It seems we have no choice in the matter." He faced forward again and squinted. "The other door is still there."

"But we have to go through them first."

Beside them, Purple heard everything. "They are nothing! I have disssscovered their weaknessss."

He held up his ensorcelled captive for the warriors to see. "I have your ma.s.ssster here! Ssssurrender or I will kill him now!"

The archer took several steps forward until he was even with the original guardian. The Dragon King spun around and held Serkadion Manee between himself and the bowman, but the latter did nothing.

The shorter warriors all took one step forward.

It struck Wellen then what sort of predicament they faced. This hall was not simply decorated like a chessboard by chance. Rubbing his chin in thought, he happened to glance ceilingward.

"Xabene!" he whispered.

She followed his gaze.

More than half a dozen ebony warriors stood scattered on the upper walls and ceiling. They seemed not at all put out by the fact that in some cases, they stood completely upside down. Most were identical to the ones already confronting the trio, but there was one wearing black raiments and an obscuring hood who resembled some insidious cleric.

All of those clinging to the walls and ceiling were armed and eyeing the intruders below.

Hearing Wellen's voice, the Dragon King turned just enough to see the humans. When he caught them staring up, he glanced that way. "Dragon of the Depthssss!"

The archer released his arrow.

It might have been an exceptional shot, but Bedlam was almost positive that only chance made the bolt miss Serkadion Manee, who still hung unknowing and unprotected from the ma.s.sive Dragon King's hand. Hampered by his living baggage, Purple could not turn in time to avoid the arrow. He was, however, able to react fast enough with his sorcery to cause it to deflect. A normal arrow would not have concerned the Dragon King, but it was doubtful that Serkadion Manee would have been satisfied with such for this macabre, life-size game.

Yet another dark knight rose through one of the squares, this one out of the wall to their left. Though armored like the others, it had a definite feminine shape and in its hands it carried a jeweled scepter.

"p.a.w.ns, knight"-the scholar studied one of the archers, then continued-"rooks, I suppose, then bishops, and now a queen." Wellen glanced hurriedly around the mind-wrenching corridor. "But where's the king?"

"What are you talking about?" the enchantress muttered, her eyes still on the unsettling tableau above them.

"This is some bizarre and deadly chess game!"

If the drake lord heard them this time, he said nothing. His hands were full in more ways than one, for several of the stygian figures were moving toward him, each one following a peculiar movement pattern. Even the ones on the ceiling and walls were shifting closer. So far, only the archer, Serkadion Manee's idea of a rook, had posed any problem, but the attackers were slowly cutting off the party from any hope of escape . . . and there was no telling what powers the queen or the yet-to-be-seen king controlled. There might even be more than one. Who was to say that the gnome's version of chess was the same as the one the scholar was familiar with? With so large a board and so many dimensions, Wellen would have added pieces. He suspected that Manee had done just that.

The Purple Dragon unleashed another spell. Mist enshrouded the chessmen, for a moment bringing all movement to a halt. More was expected if the drake's irritation was anything to judge by. Hissing, the Dragon King muttered under his breath. The mist took on a greenish tinge.

The nearest p.a.w.n fell face first onto the floor and faded away.