"Little one, do you see what I brought you? You will grow big and strong with this."

The sprite was not a guardian posted by the Dragon King; she was a mother seeking sustenance for her child. He noted the remnants of a pair of small animals nearby and a much larger mound that indicated that something roughly the size of a man had been buried there quite some time before. The sprite intended to slaughter Darkhorse and add his body to the sapling's larder. With such sustenance to support it, the sapling would grow into a more mobile sprite in only a few weeks.

The immature creature continued to lean toward them, reminding Darkhorse of the gra.s.s in the Barren Lands. The gra.s.s might have been harmless, but this creature certainly was not. Nor was her progenitor.

"Good little horse . . ." The delicate-seeming hands of the sprite had altered into long, wicked claws. She meant to tear open his throat.

Darkhorse could not move, but he was hardly fearful. A captive of the bridle and saddle he might be, but the eternal was still no creature of flesh and blood.

The sprite raised one hand, then slashed at his neck . . . only to have her claws glance off. She hissed, trying again. This time, the forest creature nearly broke one of her claws. Her second failure left her livid. Her other hand became entangled in the reins, causing her to try to tear it off. When that failed, the sprite moved closer and inspected the bridle.

"Sorcery?" Her interest piqued, she ran her hands over the saddle. Her tone grew merry. "Little horse, you have a pretty, pretty saddle . . . a pretty saddle that makes you so tough- skinned, yes? Must not get it b.l.o.o.d.y. Must take it off."

Still convinced that she could slaughter Darkhorse for food, the sprite worked at the fastenings of the saddle. Darkhorse stood as still as possible, not wanting to disturb the sprite's precarious attention span. Once he was free, she would see what it meant to threaten lives.

"Here," she whispered. "Here." The sprite tugged at the fastenings. They did not seem to want to open at first, but gradually Darkhorse felt her loosen the buckle.

"Please don't do that."

No, it cannot happen now! Not when lam so close! Dark- horse glanced to his side, already knowing who it was who had discovered them. Aurim. The sorcerer looked and sounded almost sad as he studied the eternal.

"I'm almost sorry you didn't make it." The young sorcerer reached out, as if trying to seize the reins from where he stood despite the fact that they were well out of his reach. "But now I'm going to have to take you back, Darkhorse."

Chapter Twelve.

With one last tug on the partially loosened saddle, the tree sprite looked around Darkhorse at Aurim. The shadow steed stared bitterly at his friend, frustrated that he had come so close to freedom, only to have it torn away from him.

The sprite's demeanor shifted the moment she realized what stood before her. All savagery vanished. She was now a delicate, vulnerable creature . . . and very much female. It was this she emphasized most as she moved closer to the sorcerer. Her movements were more natural than those of Saress, but still of the same school of seduction.

"Pretty, pretty man. Is this your horse? He's very pretty, too. Do you think I am pretty?" She was nearly close enough to put her arms around him. Whether the nymph hoped to seduce Aurim first or simply crush him with her incredible strength was a question Darkhorse would never know the answer to, for Aurim suddenly raised his hands to eye level, then brought them down toward the tree sprite.

He barely touched her, but the sprite transformed. She hardly had time to gasp as her arms stiffened and lengthened and her legs melded into one. Her feet sank into the soil, growing roots as they did. The sprite's face all but vanished as her neck thickened and her hair became a leafy canopy.

A few seconds later, where once she had stood, there was now a miniature yet adult tree.

"I'm sorry," murmured Aurim. His interest in the sprite faded. "You should've known someone would notice you pa.s.s through the detection spell we placed around the encampment, Darkhorse. You only got this far because the sorcerers on duty didn't make anything of it at first, but out of fear of the king's wrath and probably Saress's as well, they finally woke me."

Darkhorse twisted around to better face his friend. Aurim's brief moment of regret for the eternal had clearly pa.s.sed and once more Yureel's spell held sway. Fortunately, it appeared that Yureel himself was not present. That meant that the shadow steed had only Aurim's affected mind to deal with.

What could he do against the sorcerer, though? So long as the bridle and saddle were attached, Darkhorse was little more than an obedient animal.

"Why don't you come to me, Darkhorse?" Aurim asked hesitantly. "You know I don't want to hurt you, but I've got to if you don't come willingly."

He sounded too sincere to be simply mouthing the words of Yureel. Aurim's will was stronger than even the shadow steed would have believed. Perhaps with a little more time, he can free himself!

What might happen in the future did not matter now, though. Aurim might be fighting against the spell that controlled him, but for now he was still a thrall to Yureel. Darkhorse wanted to go to his young friend and help him, but he could not do that until he himself was free and that was hardly what Aurim had in mind at the moment.

He backed away. So long as the sorcerer did not touch the reins, Aurim could not command Darkhorse to do anything. The reins seemed to be the key to controlling the eternal's actions.

"Please don't do this, Darkhorse. He'll make me hurt you. I won't be able to stop myself. It's taken me this much just to keep from attacking already. I-I don't think I'm strong enough to free myself from his will."

But you can! the shadow steed tried to roar. However, no sound, not even a whinny, escaped him. The spell of silence still held. Darkhorse's frustration grew tenfold. He had to be able to talk, he had to be able to tell Aurim- "You are not completely his!"

The words startled both of them. Darkhorse blinked, then laughed. Aurim took a step back, hands raised. He seemed caught between attacking and retreating.

Darkhorse reared, kicking out with his hooves. The shadow steed had no intention of striking Aurim, but he wanted to keep the sorcerer off-guard for the moment. His unexpected success against the spell of silence encouraged him, but he could still sense that complete freedom was not his. The sprite had loosened the saddle, but while Darkhorse could feel it shifting back and forth, it was still attached to him. So was the bridle. He had regained some of his abilities, but not nearly enough.

Aurim, however, did not yet realize Darkhorse's dilemma. The stallion had to use that to his advantage. "I do not want to hurt you, either, Aurim, so I tell you now to stay back! You are not responsible for yourself! It is Yureel and Lanith who are the true enemies! You know that! Fight their control!"

"I-" The human shook his head. "You have to-"

His demeanor shifted, going from confusion to mockery. Darkhorse vaguely sensed a new presence. It was not exactly here, but its attention was.

Yureel! The shadow puppet had evidently discovered Darkhorse's escape and had linked to the sorcerer in order to recapture the stallion. The transference of control was slower this time, however, possibly a sign that Aurim had indeed shaken off part of the spell. Unfortunately, Darkhorse knew that Cabe's son was not yet strong enough to do more than delay the inevitable.

"Darkhorse . . ." The true Aurim momentarily broke through. Tears coursed down his face. "I can't-"

He suddenly seized his head and screamed. Darkhorse fell back, not at all certain what to make of the human's mad struggle. He wanted to help Aurim, but did not know exactly how. A part of him suggested running since nothing would be gained by both of them being captured. Only by regaining his own complete freedom could the shadow steed hope to help his companion recover his own.

Yet he made no move to depart. Aurim's struggle was so desperate, Darkhorse feared that the lad might be injured or worse. That he could do nothing to help made the matter that much more terrible.

Aurim screamed again. Darkhorse took a tentative step toward him.

The sorcerer gasped, then collapsed.

"Aurim!" Heedless of the possibility of a trap, Darkhorse trotted over to the still figure and inspected him. Aurim Bedlam was definitely unconscious. His breathing was slightly ragged, but steady. Even in the shadows of the night, the ebony stallion could see how pale and drawn the human was.

When the sorcerer still did not move, Darkhorse gently nudged Aurim's side with his muzzle. The human might have been dead, so limp had he become. Only his regular breathing kept the eternal from fearing the worst. Still, Aurim could not be all that well, not after such a t.i.tanic struggle. Darkhorse was amazed at the young man's incredible will. To have battled Yureel to this point . . .

I have to do something! I cannot simply leave him here. Now there is the chance to completely rid him of Yureel's foul touch. One major problem faced the eternal, though. How was he to move Aurim anywhere? The saddle and bridle still kept him trapped in a solid equine form, useless for lifting objects as large as the sorcerer's body, much less tossing them up onto his back.

He had only one slim hope. If his power was great enough to remove the fairly simplistic spell of silence, then perhaps, just perhaps, Darkhorse had enough ability to levitate the sorcerer. It was worth a try; he had no other ideas.

Thanks to the saddle and bridle, the shadow steed could not even estimate how much of his power he now controlled. He could only concentrate and hope that he did not fail. Levitating a heavy, still body was in some ways a much more complicated task than removing a minor spell such as the one that had kept him silent. Removing the simple silence spell had required only momentary effort; levitation demanded constant concentration and a steady flow of energy throughout the entire process.

Darkhorse focused on Aurim and imagined him slowly rising into the air. At first he grew optimistic; Aurim's arm rose, followed gradually by the rest of his form. However, Darkhorse managed to raise the sorcerer only a few inches high before he lost control and Aurim dropped back to the earth.

I will not be denied! Darkhorse readied himself and tried again, throwing his will into the task as he had not done in centuries. He was hardly used to such a relatively minor feat being so straining. He was Darkhorse, after all. No spell so simple should have defied him so.

Perhaps fueled by his growing ire, his second effort met with better success. Aurim's body shot up more than six feet into the air and would have risen even farther if not for the eternal's quick thinking. He regained control of the floating form, then immediately summoned the sorcerer toward him, keeping his concentration steady.

Darkhorse's most unsettling moment came at the very end, just after he had grown confident enough to believe success a certainty. He lowered Aurim to his back, but just as he was about to release his hold on the unconscious human, the loose saddle shifted somewhat. Aurim nearly slipped head first from the shadow steed's back. It was only through quick concentration that Darkhorse saved his young friend.

More cautious, Darkhorse repositioned Aurim so that this time he would be secure. Even so, Darkhorse knew that he would not be able to move very swiftly through the forest. The saddle would continue to shift around as he moved, upsetting Aurim's balance again. Carrying the sorcerer across his back also meant that the shadow steed now needed an even wider path. In a forest as thick as Dagora, that was bound to cause trouble at more than one point during their flight.

By now, Yureel had to know that he had lost his hold on his puppet sorcerer. The other members of the Order would also realize that one of their own was missing. Some sort of pursuit could certainly not be far behind. Darkhorse had to move on.

He pa.s.sed the tree that had once been a thinking being. There was nothing Darkhorse could do for the sprite, but he did vow that he would alert the Green Dragon to what had happened. Despite his distaste for the creatures, her fate was a matter for her master to decide. If the drake chose to free her, so be it.

Handicapped as he was, reaching the Dragon King was still his best option. The drake lord had eyes throughout the forest; someone or something would take note of the huge black stallion and his unconscious charge. Hopefully, this time it would be a creature actually serving the Dragon King.

As the shadow steed traversed the thick forest, he continued to keep a wary eye out for Saress or any of the other spellcasters. For some reason the enchantress had not been part of the invasion force. Darkhorse supposed that her present duties now included monitoring Zuu while the king was away, although certainly Lanith could contact her through one of the other members of the Order if necessary. Still, it would have been nice to know where the treacherous woman was.

The night quickly aged. The shadow steed paused momentarily to a.s.sess two possible paths ahead. More than two hours had now pa.s.sed since Darkhorse had left the region of the sprite and still he had come across no one who could help him. At this rate, dawn would soon arrive. Where are your spies, drake? Surely some creature other than the sprite dwelled or hid in this part of the forest. So far, the only signs of life other than the trees themselves had been the occasional cry of a night bird and the constant rustle of leaves as the wind blew- It suddenly dawned on Darkhorse that although the leaves rustled even now, this time there was no wind. Something else was causing the branches to shift, something very large.

What dropped from the high, night-shrouded treetops was no bird . . . or, rather, was a bird, but also much more. It stood approximately the height of a human, but other than also having the general shape of one, the creature was avian. In many ways, it resembled the Gryphon with its predatory beak and its intelligent, searching eyes. However, where the king of Penacles often showed compa.s.sion, an aura of arrogance surrounded the newcomer.

Wide wings now folded, the avian pointed a taloned hand at Darkhorse's cargo.

"Stand aside, Seeker, I have no time for you!" The eternal kept glancing about the area. Where one Seeker lurked, there was generally a full flock nearby. Prior to the Dragon Kings, the avians had ruled this land, but their own audacity coupled with their continual war with the earth-burrowing Quel had led to their downfall. Rookeries still existed, though, and many Seekers still believed that they were masters of the Dragonrealm.

The avian, a male judging by his height, opened his other hand, revealing a medallion. The Seekers were renowned for the magical medallions they had created and many humans, elves, and drakes had hunted ruined rookeries looking for such prizes. Darkhorse, who knew how devious the devices could be, took several steps back until he heard fluttering behind him.

A second Seeker just a little smaller than the first and therefore likely a female blocked his path of retreat. Darkhorse wondered if they were aware that his power was hindered by his trappings. Certainly they wondered why he took such a slow, methodical route to bring Aurim Bedlam home. The avians were very familiar with the Bedlams, especially Cabe and his mad father Azran. Darkhorse suspected that the Seekers respected Cabe for his past dealings with them, but that did not mean that such respect transmitted into concern and respect for either the master sorcerer's friend or his son.

Seeming somewhat irritated, the first Seeker squawked quietly, then held the medallion up. The shadow steed readied himself for whatever a.s.sault the birdman planned.

Images flooded his head, images Darkhorse immediately recognized as originating from the mind of the Seeker. The avians could communicate with those of other races by either using their talismans or, better yet, touching their clawed hands to the forehead of the one with whom they desired to converse. Communication always occurred in the form of a series of images, not all of them necessarily based in reality. This Seeker had chosen the medallion, likely well aware what it might mean to touch the legendary demon steed.

In his mind, Darkhorse saw the Green Dragon, now seated on his throne, making a demand of a pair of elder Seekers. The image was followed by one of the armies of Lanith poised at the edge of the Dagora Forest. That picture, in turn, was followed by the vision of a blazing forest. Next came a series of swift scenes, all of them of flocks of Seekers rising swiftly into the night sky.

"So your flocks serve the drake lord of this forest, do they?" An interesting alliance. Seekers despised drakes even more than they did humans.

The vision shifted without warning, showing avian against drake in combat. The alliance was only temporary, foes joining together to combat a common enemy. Lanith's horde lay destroyed, their pitiful weapons no match for the combined might of the Seekers and the Dragon King.

"And what about his sorcerers? Your victory will not be an easy one, bird!" Pride was still one of the Seekers' greatest weaknesses. Too often they dove into conflicts, a.s.suming that they were destined to be the victors.

The winged figure ignored his question, instead indicating the p.r.o.ne form atop the back of the shadow steed. An image of Cabe Bedlam materialized in Darkhorse's thoughts. The avian had made the link between Darkhorse's unconscious charge and the master sorcerer. How he had made that link became a little clearer a breath later when a vision of Yssa formed. Evidently the Seekers held her in as much respect as they did Cabe. For some reason, the eternal was not at all surprised. The drake's half-human daughter seemed to have a way with some creatures.

Pulling the medallion to his chest, the birdman indicated that Darkhorse should follow him. While the eternal would not normally have trusted the creature enough to obey, he decided that it was best to risk it at this time. After all, the Seekers only had to seize the reins to put him under their complete control, something he did not want them to discover. If he cooperated, they would not be tempted to forcibly lead him along.

One benefit of the avians' unexpected appearance was that any pursuer would think twice before attacking while the Seekers were nearby. Even the Order would pause. Seeker magic was a force to be reckoned with.

While it was clear the pair with him would have preferred to return to the sky, they remained earthbound for the trek, flittering through the woods like graceful yet deadly dancers. However, Darkhorse did not doubt that at least half a dozen more just like them lurked above, flying from tree to tree and keeping a silent vigil on the surrounding area with both their eyes and their medallions.

The Seeker behind Darkhorse suddenly b.u.mped into him. He glanced as best he could at the smaller of the bird people, discovering her all too interested in Aurim. While reading the shadowed, inhuman features was ofttimes difficult, the stallion thought he saw suspicion and uncertainty in her eyes. She started to reach for the sorcerer's dangling arm, but Darkhorse took a quick step forward. She glared at him but could not match his icy gaze for very long. The Seeker retreated a few steps and did not try to touch Aurim again.

As pleased as he was to be making apparent progress, Darkhorse again grew impatient with the length of the journey. Surely the Green Dragon had to know where he was by now. Why did the drake not simply use his vast power to transport the eternal and his companion to his caverns? Why trust to the untrusting Seekers?

The lead creature paused without warning. Darkhorse looked around, but saw nothing significant about the location. The Seeker, ignoring his impatience, went down on one knee, lowering his head at the same time.

With the other Seeker keeping watch, the first avian raised his hands upward. Darkhorse could not sense any use of sorcery, but he suspected that his guide was trying to summon someone very far away.

When enough time had pa.s.sed and still nothing had happened, the shorter Seeker squawked angrily. The male looked up at her and squawked back, his annoyance seeming to be focused more on his companion than the one he was trying to summon. When it was clear that there would be no more interruptions from the impatient female, the taller Seeker renewed his summoning.

As if in response, a figure formed in the darkness just before the male.

At last! the shadow steed thought, his exasperation having grown nearly beyond his control. / will have some very choice words for you, drake lord, for making me journey this long when the situation is so dire!

However, the newcomer was not the Dragon King, but a shorter, more familiar person.

Yssa.

"I'm here, J'K'I'RU-" The enchantress paused when she saw the steed and his cargo. "Darkhorse! You escaped! Is that . . . is that Aurim?"

"It is, Yssa, and while I am indeed happy to see you, perhaps you can explain to me how you come to be a.s.sociated with these . . ."

"That can wait." She folded her arms tight. "I don't think that I want to let Lady Bedlam wait any longer than I have to. Not after our first encounter. She doesn't even know why I left so suddenly." Yssa turned to the male Seeker, reaching out a hand at the same time. Surprisingly, the avian, now standing, took her hand and held it. He squawked something, to which Yssa replied with a nod. "Thank you again, J'K'i'RU. I know it wasn't easy to convince your flock to do this, even for me."

"Do you actually understand that noise? What is this Jkiroo you've said twice already?"

"J'K'i'RU. That's the shortened version of his name. Don't ask me to repeat the full version; I don't think my mouth and lungs could take it. Yes, of course I understand him, just as I understood the gra.s.s."

She said it in such a matter-of-fact tone. Darkhorse doubted that anyone save perhaps Azran Bedlam had ever been able to understand the natural language of the Seekers. Most had to rely on either the medallions or being touched by the avians. Truly there was more to Yssa than anyone realized.

However, she was correct about one thing. Now he, who had been so impatient to end his journey, was delaying it further. Aurim needed to be attended to and the sooner the better.

Behind him, the female said something. The male shook his head, but she insisted. Finally, he squawked at Yssa, who nodded her head. "I'll tell him that."

"Tell who what?"

"A message for Cabe Bedlam. A personal one. This flock holds him in especially high regard because of something concerning his father . . ." The enchantress sounded somewhat puzzled.

"He can explain in more detail, but I will tell you that it is because of Cabe that many Seekers were freed from their servitude to Azran, his father. Azran was nothing like his son."

"So I've heard." She approached the eternal. "The saddle. It feels . . . evil. The rest of the equipment does-"

"Lady Bedlam is no doubt very upset, Yssa. We should go to her as soon as possible." He dared not let her continue speaking about the saddle and bridle until they had been removed. If the Seekers did not realize just how handicapped he was at the moment, he had no intention of illuminating them in that regard. Darkhorse did not trust them enough to not think that they might turn on Yssa, even if she was respected by them.

"You're right, of course." The blond enchantress held both hands out, thumbs together and fingers fanned out. The Seekers returned the gesture, the male actually touching palms with Yssa. Darkhorse, studying the hands, wondered if the gesture was supposed to represent a flock coming together in harmony. When there was time, he intended on discussing much with the young woman.

The Seekers suddenly darted up into the air, vanishing into the darkened treetops. Yssa watched them disappear, then turned her attention back to the ebony stallion and his unconscious pa.s.senger. "You can't transport the pair of you back to the Manor, can you?"

"No, I cannot . . . can you?"

"I think I can do it, but we might have to appear just outside the magical barrier that surrounds their domain. I don't think Lady Bedlam trusts me quite enough yet to let me immediately enter. I only made it last time, I think, because I was with Cabe. She's very protective of him."

"Like me, Yssa, she is very protective of all of those close to her." The shadow steed studied the darkened forest. "I am very distrustful of the lack of attention Lanith has given our escape so far. You had best send us on our way before that changes."

"I agree." She closed her eyes, concentrating.