It was difficult to breathe. Sharissa rolled over, trying to ease the constriction in her lungs.
Tzee…
She thought it was a dream at first, but then it occurred to her that if it was, she should not have been thinking so. She should have been enmeshed in it.
Rolling onto her back, Sharissa opened her eyes.
Her nightmare stared back at her.
She screamed, and was not ashamed that she did. Anyone would have screamed at the dark, cloudy mass atop her, a mass from which countless eyes peered at her. A sound kept echoing in her head, a sound that originated, the terrified sorceress was certain, from the horror above her.
It was the scream that sent it fleeing. She heard Faunon’s voice as he shouted to her and watched in fear and amazement as the unnerving mass rose swiftly and fled into the deep woods. The elf chased after it, but it moved with the grace and daring of the fastest hawks and was gone even before he took a dozen steps.
All the while, Sharissa heard the same nonsensical sound in her head. Tzee… Tzee… The sound did not die away until long after the nightmare was over.
“Sharissa! Rheena, I will never forgive myself for being so stubborn! I broke my vow and tried to take the entire night’s watch! It… that thing… must have come just after I dozed off!”
The sun was just rising, but the Vraad barely noticed it. Though the creature, whatever it was, had fled, she could not help feeling that they were still not alone, that someone else was still watching them.
“I have never seen anything like that!” the elf exclaimed, holding her as much for his comfort as he was for hers. “It made a sound in my head-”
“‘Tzee,’” she said. “It kept repeating ‘Tzee.’”
“That was it!”
“Tezerenee?” Sharissa whispered to herself.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She cared not to think about it any longer. The possibility unnerved her more than the dragons had. She rose from the ground, allowing Faunon to aid her. There was still something not right. “Faunon, do you sense anything?”
His eyes narrowed, and he glanced about the area. “I had not given it much thought, not with that thing around, but… could it be it has not left after all?”
That might be the answer, but Sharissa could not accept it. This was something she had felt before, a familiar presence or presences. Not the guardians, but…
Stepping away from Faunon, the sorceress faced the seemingly empty woods. “Very well! You’ve been polite! You’ve not shocked me! I know you’re there now, so you might as well come out!”
“Who are you-” The elf forgot his question as several figures slowly emerged from the trees. There was no place they could have been hiding. One moment they had not been there, the next they were. A dozen at least, all wearing the same long, cowled robes and moving with the symmetry that only they could accomplish. One might have thought they were all of one single mind.
The not-people, the Faceless Ones as others had called them, circled the Vraad and her companion.
“Sharissa! Do they mean us any harm?”
“One never knows,” she answered truthfully. “I hope not.”
A wan smile touched his face. “Since I have met you, my Vraad, I have been in one constant state of disarray. I never know what to expect!”
“I’ve fared no better,” she admitted. One of the blank-visaged beings separated from the rest and stopped before her. “You’re here.” The sorceress tried to act as brave as she sounded. “What now? Why have you come?”
In answer, the long figure raised its left hand and pointed. They looked.
Like the Faceless Ones, it was standing where it could not have been standing a breath or two earlier. It was wide enough to admit both of them, though that was not what first drew their attention. As ever, it was the artifact itself that commanded the viewer’s gazes. Standing there was an ancient stone arch-way upon which scurried a multitude of tiny, black, reptilian creatures in one seemingly endless race. The gray, stone archway covered with ivy was only one of many shapes this thing had, but each one radiated a feeling of incredible age and the notion that this structure was more than the portal it appeared to be. This was a thing alive.
“My father calls it the Gate,” she informed Faunon. “A capital on the noun. He always felt it was more of a name, not a description.”
“Is it truly alive?”
A shrug. “Was that thing that attacked us alive? I’m beginning to think that this is a world as insane as Nimth.”
The leader pointed again.
“It wants us to enter, I think, Sharissa. What do you suggest?”
She did not trust the Faceless Ones completely anymore. They had an agenda of their own, and she was certain it did not always match that of her folk. Still, she could think of no reason to refuse-and wondered then if the cowled beings would even let her. “I think we should go through. I think it might be for the best.”
He squeezed her hand. “We go through together. I have no desire to be left behind.”
That thought frightened her. Would the not-people do that to her? Did Faunon have no place in their plans? Sharissa tightened her grip and nodded to the one before them. “Together, then.”
Acting as if it wanted to assuage their fears, the leader led the way to the living portal. The featureless figure did not even pause. As it walked through the arch, they saw a flash and then the image of a building that the sorceress had no trouble recognizing.
Her face lit up. “Follow it! Now!”
They fairly leaped through.
On the other side, she paused and took a deep breath. Faunon caught the smile on her face and relaxed. “Are we there?”
She indicated the magnificent citadel on the top of the hill. Between the two and the grand structure was a well-groomed field of high grass and blossoming flowers. Sharissa could not recall a sight that had ever filled her with such relief and happiness. She started to run, pulling Faunon along and shouting to him, “This is home!”
So thrilled was Sharissa that she would later have trouble recalling the trek from where they had materialized to the gates where her father and stepmother had been waiting.
“Theywanted us outside,” Ariela told her stepdaughter. “We wondered why. I often wish they would at least create mouths with which to talk.”
“They might have to explain too much, then,” Sharissa returned. “I don’t think they would like that.”
The foursome stood in the courtyard of the citadel that was the main point of Dru Zeree’s pocket universe. They had spent the last two hours sitting and talking, learning what they could from one another about events here and overseas. Her father had offered them food and drink immediately, recognizing their need for both. Sharissa cast the simple spell herself, wanting to taste the pleasure of having her concentration and strength at more reasonable levels. She noted that it also seemed easier in general to complete a spell here than it had on the other continent. She pondered the theory that the land or the guardians might have had something to do with that, but decided not to mention it to her father for now.
Dru Zeree gave his daughter another long hug. “I thought I’d never see you again! When Gerrod vanished, I wasn’t certain whether he would find you! He was my only hope.” The master mage looked a bit uncomfortable as he added, “I’m sorry he didn’t come back.”
Ariela saved Sharissa the trouble of responding by turning attention to Faunon. “I thought I had seen the last of my own kind. I hope that Sharissa will allow you a minute now and then that I can usurp! It would be pleasant to discuss elfin life once in a while.”
“To be sure. You can tell me what it will be like living among the legendary, cursed Vraad. So far, the experience has been mixed.” Faunon smiled quickly so that no one would think he was having regrets.
“Perhaps you can start that now,” Dru suggested, putting an arm around Sharissa. “I would like to talk to my daughter for a few moments. Not long, I promise you. Both of you still need rest.”
“I’d like to sleep for a month or so,” the younger Zeree admitted.
“Only a short conversation, then.”
Faunon gave his thanks to the sorcerer for all the latter had done for him and allowed himself to be led away by the Lady Zeree, who knew that her husband would relate to her the essentials of the conversation when they were alone later.
Dru turned and admired some of the fantastic, sculptured bushes in the courtyard. So skillfully shaped, the animals they represented seemed ready to frolic. Such frivolity, however, was far from the spellcaster’s mind.
“So the clan of the dragon is no more.”
She walked beside him. “In a sense, the clan of the dragon now lives up to its name.”
His smile held little humor. “I suppose so. I don’t know whether to feel sorry for them or fear for us. We will have to make some changes, and I don’t think everyone will agree to them. Since the departure of Barakas, Silesti’s been talking of taking his followers and establishing a second colony.”
“That would be foolish!”
Dru shrugged. “It would be their choice. The triumvirate no longer has a purpose in his eyes.”
“But, if there does one day come trouble from the dragons…”
“By that time, Sharissa, we will hopefully be prepared. Let us not also forget that trouble might come from unseen directions, too. The children of the drake might prove our allies some day.”
She looked at him in disbelief. “Those things? Never! Father, if you had been there, seen Lochivan change and heard the voice of the silver dragon… you’d never say what you just did!”
He steered the two of them toward the direction that the Lady Zeree and Faunon had gone. “The Dragon of the Depths was here for a brief time. It left a simple message, but until you arrived and told us of events, I had no idea what the guardian was talking about.”
Sharissa waited, knowing her father would continue.
“The guardian said that I should take heart, that each race of kings began as tyrants and monsters but only this one can be taught to go beyond that. I asked what that meant and where you, Sharissa, were. The guardian ignored my pleas, though, and simply finished by saying that change never ends and we, more than anyone else, can shape our own future.”
Her father frowned, still mulling over the possible meanings of the statements. Sharissa, knowing that the colonists also faced the founders’ adaptations, understood better, but decided that explaining could wait until things had calmed again.
“That was all?” she asked.
“No, before that the sentinel warned that I should watch the Faceless Ones. Nothing more. I’d almost forgotten that.”
“And where are they?” She had not seen one since crossing. Even the one who had preceded them had not been in the field when they crossed.
“Around. They appear totally uninterested in your arrival.”
“They hide their true feelings well.” She paused and, while he waited with fatherly patience, admired the peace and serenity of the moment. So much had happened and so much was still to happen. The changes wrought upon the Tezerenee might look minor in comparison. Her own experiences had changed her forever, giving her an even wider realization of the importance of the colony’s survival and the place she might make for herself and her family. Burying herself in her work was fine, but it meant she missed some of the more subtle alterations. That would change. It had to change.
The children of the drake have their future, the determined woman thought. Now it’s time to ensure that we do, too.
Tomorrow would be soon enough, Sharissa decided. At the very least, she deserved one day of relaxation, one day to rebuild her strength for the coming onslaughts of change. She hoped Faunon would not regret coming with her.
Sharissa hoped she would not regret coming back.
“Shall we find the others?” her father asked, perhaps thinking that she was so tired that she was beginning to drift off in his arms.
“Let us do that,” the sorceress said, stirring herself and smiling at the elder Zeree. “And promise me that today we will all do nothing! Absolutely nothing!”
“If that’s what you wish. Now that you’re home, however, you will have all the time you want to relax and recover.”
Her response was to kiss her father on the cheek. As they departed the courtyard in search of the two elves, Sharissa thought that between family and the future, she would hardly have time to relax and do nothing after this day was over.
For some reason, it did not bother her that much.