We're still not one, Darkhorse. You've got to join me completely in order to let this work The student had to remind the teacher of his own lesson. Another time Darkhorse would have laughed. Now he could only hope that he would be able to give Aurim what the sorcerer needed.

He opened himself up, giving all that he could to the effort. As if struck, Yureel fell to one knee. He was only vaguely humanoid now and much smaller than he had been a moment before. The shadow man finally tore his hands away from his head and tried to reach for his attackers. However, he moved as if the very air around him had solidified. Yureel managed one step closer, but the effort caused him to shrink more.

Through their connection, Darkhorse knew what Aurim planned. It was justice of a sort, the same kind of trap Yureel himself had had the sorcerers set in Adderly. The pressure on each side of Yureel increased tenfold, pushing him into a smaller and smaller place. Like Yssa, Aurim had built a cage; but unlike the enchantress, he had the power and skill to make it inescapable.

It was in your mind, Darkhorse. I hope it was all right to use it.

Darkhorse said nothing, allowing Aurim to control the situation. All that mattered was finishing with Yureel, and the spellcaster seemed to know exactly what had to be done.

Yureel abruptly shrank to a foot tall, trying, perhaps to escape the trap through some sort of trickery. Aurim matched him immediately, though, giving the monster no extra room in which to move. He did not want Yureel coming back to plague them again.

"Don't send me back!" the tiny figure suddenly cried, the icy eyes wide and pleading. All trace of the fearsome monster had vanished. Yureel sounded like a frightened child. "Destroy me, but don't send me back!"

For the first time, Darkhorse sensed Aurim falter. If they exiled him, they could never be certain that Yureel might not return. On the other hand, the shadow steed knew that Aurim had been sickened by all those his sorcery had injured or killed in the name of the king of Zuu, even if he had not truly been responsible. Even destroying Yureel might prove too much for the lad's mental state.

"Darkhorse, what should I do? I don't think I can kill him!"

The shadow steed himself did not know how to answer. To be rid forever of the fear of Yureel had always been his dream, but to dispose of him in a manner so . . . so . . . much like what his twin himself might have chosen . . . did not sit well with Darkhorse either.

"I know a place," he finally said "a place far, far away from which I doubt even Yureel can escape . . . especially if we work together to fashion this cage into one stronger than the last."

Aurim stared at the imprisoned figure. "I wanted to . . . after all he's made me do . . . after all those whose deaths he caused. . . I wanted to make him suffer for all of them . . . but I can't."

Recalling his own fears of eternal imprisonment in the box, Darkhorse replied, "He will suffer, Aurim. Sending him to exile in his cage will be a far more effective punishment."

"You can't, you can't, you can't!" Yureel roared. "Don't send me away! I was so lonely! I couldn't bear it again, Darkhorse!"

"You will have to bear it, Yureel! For all that you are responsible for, you will just have to bear it. After all, you really have no choice, do you?"

The tiny figure's eyes dulled. All the fight appeared to have drained out of Yureel now that he was a helpless prisoner. "No choice. Yes, my dear brother, my self. I've no choice . . ."

Ice-blue eyes met ice-blue eyes.

Yureel began to swell.

"Aurim!" Darkhorse flung himself between the sorcerer and the cage.

The cage held the forces unleashed by the shadow puppet for only a breath, maybe two. Not even the combined might of Aurim Bedlam and Darkhorse could contain it any longer. The burst of energy rose ten, twenty, even thirty feet into the sky and even farther along the ground. Raw power raged over the shadow steed, who now completely covered his human friend.

Darkhorse was on fire, but he did what he could to protect Aurim, if not himself. The agony became so great that the eternal screamed loud and long. Still the murderous wave washed over him, threatening more and more to tear him apart.

At last, the level of pain decreased. Darkhorse shivered, astonished-no, unable to believe-that he still lived. He remained where he was until the last vestiges of the terrible a.s.sault had faded, then, with each movement still agony, the shadow steed slipped off of Aurirn.

Despite the protection Darkhorse had given to his companion, he saw that the spellcaster, too, had suffered. Deathly white, Aurim could not even rise at first. Only after several anxious minutes did he manage to sit up.

"What . . . what happened?" Color began to seep back into the human's face.

Still in the process of refining his form, Darkhorse indicated the ravaged area where the cage had stood. A gaping, blackened hole marked it. The words came harder than Dark- horse would have imagined. It was not as if any thing related to the notion of love had ever existed between the ebony stallion and his darker half. "Yureel could not stand the thought of returning to exile."

The battered Triage paled again. "Do you mean that he destroyed himself?"

"It was that or face a fate he feared more." Darkhorse snorted. "I had not thought he feared exile so much, even knowing how terrifying it was to him. I did not know he would choose this last path until I saw the death in his eyes."

Aurim buried his head in his hands. "I killed him. In the end, I killed him after all."

"No! Yureel's end was his own doing and one that should not be wept over! Too many died for his madness for you to even consider taking some blame! You tried to be humane; Yureel did not even know the word existed." Darkhorse glanced again at the devastated area. "Do not pity him, Aurim. If there was ever one creature not deserving of pity, it was Yureel."

The sorcerer looked at him, finally shaking his head. "I think that no matter what he was and what he did, I'm going to pity him a little, Darkhorse. I didn't know he hated imprisonment so much he would do this."

Too weary to argue, the eternal simply shook his head. He would never completely understand humans.

A hissing sound made the shadow steed stiffen.

Aurim cried out. A long shaft was buried in his thigh. Darkhorse looked for the source, wondering who had recklessly chosen to remain behind when all the other warriors had fled from the vicinity of the deadly duel. He saw in the distance the lone figure of King Lanith, mounted, preparing another arrow. Even without attempting a probe the shadow steed knew that the arrows were all enchanted. They were the same bolts used to penetrate the hides of dragons and magical shields. The sorcerer was fortunate that it had not completely pierced his leg.

"I'm all . . . right . . . Darkhorse," Aurim Bedlam called through clenched teeth. "I can deal with the arrow. I can."

Gratified by the news, the shadow steed refocused on the would-be a.s.sa.s.sin. Fury at the human's continued audacity fueled Darkhorse to renewed effort. Lanith might have been a p.a.w.n in many ways to Yureel, but he was hardly without guilt in matters. Yureel would not have chosen him otherwise. The blame for much of the destruction and death that had occurred and would have occurred lay at the feet of the horse king.

Darkhorse reared, daring Lanith to try for him. He doubted that the enchanted arrow would harm him, but even if it did, it would not be sufficient to keep him from stripping the human from his mount.

The horse king aimed, his target Darkhorse's head. Another breath or two and the shadow steed would find out exactly how deadly the arrow could be.

Lanith jerked straight in the saddle. His arrow shot harmless into the air, landing far to the warrior's right. The king dropped the bow and gripped his mount's mane. He weaved back and forth, glaring at the shadow steed, who was mere moments from reaching him.

King Lanith, ruler of Zuu, the horse king, tumbled to the ground, an arrow in his back.

Slowing to a trot, Darkhorse approached the sprawled figure. As he did, he noted a second rider approaching from behind the horse king; General Belfour. A sword hung from the man's side and he wore a bow looped around his shoulder, but the veteran warrior's hands were empty.

"That will be close enough, General," the shadow steed called when Belfour had come within a few yards of his king. "I intend no trouble, Darkhorse." Belfour showed him open palms. "I only came in search of my liege." The warrior peered down at the limp form. Blood pooled beneath the king's body; Lanith was clearly dead. "A perfect strike. I warned him that he shouldn't count on that magic shield around him. Sooner or later, it would fail him. The Dragon King has many fine archers and we're certainly near enough to the lines to be in danger." He shook his head. "I did warn him."

"Against normal weapons his shield might have held, General, but both wounds he received were from ensorcelled shafts." The eternal probed the arrow. Not only had it been enchanted, but he was fairly certain that the Magical Order had done the enchanting.

General Belfour leaned forward, one hand resting on the quiver. Surrept.i.tiously studying the shafts within the quiver, Darkhorse knew that he did not have to look far to find the horse king's a.s.sa.s.sin.

"If you've no qualms, demon steed, I'd like to take my lord and my horse, which he borrowed, and depart."

He eyed the officer. "What will happen now, General Belfour? What about his war, his dreams of conquest?"

The human straightened, his face a perfect mask. No one who met him later would realize that he had murdered his own monarch. "This war was wrong, and I am certain that the king had just come to believe that. All that would've been accomplished in the end was tearing apart the Dragonrealm, something we don't need. We had no right to start this in the first place. As senior officer, it's my duty to withdraw our forces from Dagora and return to Zuu. A royal funeral must be prepared. Then, since the king had no direct heir and his brothers are all long dead, one of his nearest kin must be chosen to take his place."

"You are his cousin, are you not, General?"

Belfour actually looked surprised. "Yes . . . I am . . . and I suppose if they ask, I'd take the throne, if only to prevent anarchy."

"I believe you would make a good monarch, General. You look to be a man who believes in peace, not conquest, a man who would realize how rich his kingdom is already. Rich enough, in fact, to aid those whose lives have been ruined by this futile war."

"Yes . . . yes, I'll do what I can."

The shadow steed nodded. "See that you do." He paused, then added, "His brother Blane was a good man."

Belfour dismounted. "Aye. He would've been a good king."

One last thought occurred to Darkhorse before he could take his leave. "What of Saress and the Order?"

"My king's last command was to kill the witch if I saw her again. Something about her disgusted him. It's a command I'll fulfill if the opportunity comes. Sorceress or not, I'll see it done." Belfour removed the shaft from Lanith, studied it, then tossed it aside. He wrestled the king's corpse onto the back of the horse he himself had just ridden, then reclaimed his own. "As for the Magical Order, Zuu prospered for centuries without mages and the like, and what's worked so well for so long is just fine with me."

"That will be good news to many." Darkhorse turned. "Fare you well, General Belfour, and good luck with your future."

"A moment," the warrior said. "Two things I'd tell you still. The first is to watch out for the drake Sssaleese in the north. The king might not have liked his kind, but he was more than willing to deal with them in order to advance things. Watch the north."

It only verified facts that Darkhorse already knew, but he nodded his thanks, nonetheless. "Sssaleese will be watched. The second part?"

Looking somewhat uncomfortable, the general finished, "If you should ever come to Zuu again, you will be welcome. I promise that. It is owed to you and yours."

Darkhorse turned and departed without a word in response. It would be a long time before he would consider returning to the kingdom of the horse people. First he would wait and see how the new monarch fared.

Aurim waited where Darkhorse had left him. The sorcerer had removed the arrow from his thigh and not only stopped the bleeding, but healed the wound, too. The shadow steed was impressed. Even for Cabe, wounds of a sorcerous nature took more time. Some wounds, like the one that had taken the Gryphon's fingers, could never be completely healed.

"I heard your conversation with the general through our link, Darkhorse." Aurim was pale but otherwise in reasonable condition, all things considered. "I heard everything."

"We can sever the link now, Aurim. " Darkhorse chose not to speak further about Belfour and his friend did not press.

"No, if you don't mind, we still have a few more things to do." The young human stood, looking stronger by the moment. "And they can't wait any longer."

Darkhorse nodded. Linked to Aurim, he knew exactly where his friend wanted to go.

The Manor.

"Mount, then. There is nothing more to keep us here any longer." The eternal could not help glancing at the scorched area that marked the last of Yureel. "Nothing at all."

Chapter Twenty-One.

When at last the Bedlams had been freed and Darkhorse had been able to verify that General Belfour had kept true to his word by withdrawing the forces of Zuu from Dagora, the shadow steed made a visit to the forest kingdom. No word had come as to the Dragon King's condition. There were even rumors that he was dead, rumors that some of his fellow monarchs seemed eager to believe.

Darkhorse might not have worried save that he had not heard from Yssa since she had fled from the battle with her injured father. That Saress had been not far behind made the matter more vexsome.

The eternal materialized before one of the entrances to the drake's caverns and waited. He knew that they were aware of his presence from the beginning, so it came as no surprise when a dark-skinned human appeared from behind a tree. The middle-aged human, clad in evergreen robes that marked him as one of the reptilian monarch's senior aides, bowed before Darkhorse.

"Is there something I can do for you, demon steed?"

"I would speak to your king."

The news did not please the aide. "His Majesty is very occupied at the moment-"

"It's all right, Gyman," interjected a female voice.

Yssa stood near the cavern, her clothing and demeanor a tremendous contrast to the vital enchantress Darkhorse had come to know. While the brown and tan gown still hinted of Zuu, it covered her far more than the dresses she had worn in the past. More important, her features were devoid of all traces of pleasure at seeing her friend again.

"Yssa! You do live, then!"

His remark brought a faint smile to her face. "That should be obvious."

"And your father?"

The smile vanished. "Come see for yourself."

Darkhorse found himself standing in the chambers of the Dragon King, the enchantress beside him. On a bed formed entirely by plants of a thousand varieties, the master of the Dagora Forest lay sleeping. His chest rose slowly, with intermittent hesitations, and occasionally he twitched as if in pain.

His left forearm was gone, the stump bound with white cloths.

"He'll recover in a few weeks, but until then, I don't dare leave him." She looked over her shoulder where two sentries, one human, one not, watched. "My bro-his son and heir almost ordered him put to death, a drake tendency I've never cared for. I convinced him in the end that our father would still be able to rule well. He believed me."

"And is that so?"

"Yes."

The shadow steed turned away from the unconscious Dragon King. "What happened to Saress, Yssa?"

She looked down. "She followed us. I brought Father to the first place I could think of where I might be able to help him. I hadn't even begun before she appeared and struck me. I thought we were both dead."

"But you are not. How did you defeat her?"

"I didn't. You see, I took my father to the Barren Lands." Yssa looked again at the drake. "She knocked me to the ground and reached for Father. That was when the gra.s.s took her."

The gra.s.s? It took Darkhorse a moment. The gra.s.s had taken Saress- "Her father was of the drake clan Brown."

"Yes. You know how Cabe's spell worked. The gra.s.s knew her bloodline despite her human appearance. There was nothing I could do." She shivered. "It was over in little more than a minute."

That would save the new king of Zuu the duty of fulfilling his predecessor's last command. Darkhorse was not entirely dismayed at the fate of the sorceress.

"I really need to see to him, Darkhorse," Yssa added, indicating her parent.

He was being asked to leave already. The shadow steed saw no reason not to oblige her. When the Green Dragon was better, Darkhorse would visit Yssa again. "Very well. I am glad that you are well, Yssa."

"Wait. . ." She reached up and briefly hugged him around the neck. In a quieter yet still tense voice, she said, "I know most of what's happened. I know you and Aurim dealt with Yureel and that the two of you also freed everyone trapped at the Manor, but I just wanted to find out if everyone is . . . feeling well."

Knowing exactly who in particular she meant, he responded, "Everyone is well. Cabe provided food and there was water and air aplenty. As for Aurim . . ." He noted the way her interest grew at mention of the lad's name. "He will never forget what Yureel put him through, but he is doing fine. His skills and confidence have grown tremendously. You should visit sometime. I think he would enjoy that."

"I doubt his mother would, though." She smiled as she said it, a sign to Darkhorse that the enchantress would be visiting soon.