Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III Read Free Page A

surrendering to that inevitable fact, the Dragon King settled down. Sleep, which he needed, was no longer really even an option for him. He could rest, but he could not afford the luxury of deep, enshrouding oblivion. The blight upon his realm had to be removed before it spread beyond his ability to control.
    The Crystal Dragon shuddered at the thought of what he would be forced to do if that happened. There would be only one choice left to him then . . . and it might leave behind a legacy compared to which the devastation attempted by the Ice Dragon would seem a blessing.
    Still, to him it would be worth the cost.
    II

    THE MANOR HAD no other name, none that had stuck, anyway. Many called it the Green Manor, but that was more a description than a true title. To Cabe Bedlam, it was simply called the Manor. How long ago it had been built and by whom was a matter of conjecture. The style was like nothing the dark-haired warlock had ever seen before or since. Though much of the building had been cut from stone, the right side was actually formed by a massive tree as old as time. Depending where one stood in front of it, the Manor was either two or three stories tall. Marble columns jutted upward on each side of the doorway. Near the roof, the metallic effigy of one of the Seekers seemed ready to swoop down on any intruder.
    Some assumed it had been built by the avian race, in part because much of the statuary and artwork seemed to revolve around the lives of the bird folk. That a tree formed part of the Manor strengthened that theory. Yet, it always seemed strange that creatures who normally lived in the heavens and made their rookeries in high mountain caves would build so earthbound a home. It seemed more likely to Cabe that the statues and such had actually been added later on, long after the departure of the original builders.
    Actually, the history of the Manor meant far less to him than the fact that he was now its master. Here in the midst of the Dagora Forest, he and his wife, the enchantress Gwendolyn, ruled as lord and lady. Here, they raised the children . . . both human and drake.
    From his position on the second-floor balcony of their private quarters, Cabe could survey much of the vast garden of the Manor. He watched as servants of both races went about their duties or spent their free time enjoying the day. The first time I saw this place, I was running for my life.
    The Dragon Kings had discovered him, the unknown and unassuming grandson of Nathan Bedlam, a sorcerer who had nearly brought down the ruling drakes. The silver streak in his hair, the mark of sorcery, would have been enough to condemn him already, for the drakes despised human mages, but the discovery of his ancestry had sealed his fate. Some of the Dragon Kings had panicked and sought to kill him immediately, but instead one of their own had perished, in the process stirring the long-dormant magical powers of Cabe to life. He had fled here and found Gwen, the Lady of the Amber, frozen for more than a hundred years by the novice warlock’s own father, Azran. Together, Cabe and the enchantress had survived Dragon Kings, armies, and mad sorcerers. After Azran’s death and the scattering of Duke Toma’s army, they had come back to the Manor and made it their own . . . if it was possible for anyone to actually lay claim to the ancient structure.
    A giggle made him look down. Cabe stiffened as he saw his daughter, Valea, come charging into sight, a greenish yellow drake as large as a full-grown man behind her. Just coming into womanhood, she was the image of her mother down to the fiery red tresses. Clad in a riding outfit of emerald green, much more practical than the dresses Gwen tried to make her wear, she should have been able to outrun the beast.
    She did nothing of the sort. Instead, Valea whirled about and reached for the running drake with open arms. Cabe raised a hand to defend her, then held back as the beast suddenly began to shimmer.