Dragonmage of Mystara dom-3 Read online

  Dragonmage of Mystara

  ( Dragonlord of Mystara - 3 )

  Thorarinn Gunnarsson

  Thorarinn Gunnarsson

  Dragonmage of Mystara

  PROLOGUE

  Night seemed to gather like standing water from a gentle rain, slowly filling the narrow streets and alleys of the city and the low places where the walls met the cobbled streets. The gray stone of the buildings and the dull bluish tiles of the roofs deepened and gradually seemed to disappear into the shadows. The bitterness of the long winter had given way to a mild and pleasant spring, but night still came early to the Highlands, and the cold still seemed to gather with the darkness.

  Alessa Vyledaar stood at the window of her private chamber, watching the deepening shadows of the approaching night. The wide window was one of the principal reasons why she had made this chamber her own, even if it was yet another flight of stairs higher in the Wizards' Residence of the Academy. She had never been comfortable in Byen Kalestraan's old chambers, which had seemed to her like a windowless cavern, dark and remote. But there had also been a rather disquieting presence to those chambers, almost as if they were haunted. She had never been one to worry much about ghosts, but she did not trust anything that might have involved

  Kalestraan and the traitor wizards.

  She had always felt a vague awareness in that place, almost as if something were calling out to her, or perhaps seeking something. The presence was so vague, in fact, that she had never been certain it was real and not just her own passive antipathy for Byen Kalestraan, a man she had never liked or trusted even before he had proven himself a traitor and assassin. She had simply preferred not to live with that constant distraction. But lately, even in her new chambers, a distant voice had been calling to her from far away.

  This evening the mysterious voice was especially persistent, and less distant than it had ever seemed before. Alessa did her best to ignore it as she waited in her chamber for the carriage that was to take her to dinner that night with Solveig White-Gold. She had tried to pass the time with her spellbook, but she had soon realized the distraction was too great. The effort to ignore the voice disturbed her concentration, so that she had learned nothing. She gave it up at last, closing the book and hiding it away. But that left her alone with the voice and her own thoughts. On the nights when the voice was especially persistent, it would invade even her dreams with dim visions of dragons and strange monsters and endless, unexplained toil in the dreary desolation of some cold, dry wasteland.

  Slowly Alessa began to realize that there was indeed a difference in the quality of the voice tonight. Always before, no matter how loud or determined it had been, it had simply been some unintelligible voice echoing in her mind, without any sense of direction except that it was always stronger and clearer in the chambers that had been left empty with the death of the traitor Byen Kalestraan. But this evening she sensed beyond all doubt that it was calling to her, even if she did not understand the words. She felt certain that if she followed the voice, it would lead her to its source.

  That thought gave her a moment's hesitation-indeed, more than a moment. Whatever else the voice might be, she believed with all her heart that it was evil. Something about the voice and the dreams it conjured awakened a vague memory of fear, so distant that she had no clue of what she feared. All she knew was that her deepest instinct told her to run from that voice, to avoid it at all costs, even to destroy it if she could. And yet she had to know what it was. She could not simply ignore a thing of that nature, leaving it free to work its evil. If Kalestraan had brought a being or force of unknown magic into the Academy, it had to be found and the building made safe.

  It also occurred to her that the voice might somehow be a clue to the location of the Collar of the Dragons. She had never been entirely sure just what the collar was, but she knew that it was an heirloom of tremendous value and importance to the dragons. Finding the collar had become Alessa's responsibility when she had replaced Byen Kalestraan as the senior wizard of her order, and she had never been able to discover even the smallest clue about where the traitorous wizards might have hidden it. Finding the collar was becoming more critical than ever. The dragons would be returning to the Highlands any time now, and they expected their treasure to be returned to them.

  Having weighed her choices, Alessa decided to act while the mysterious call still seemed strong enough to lead her to its source. Caution told her not to do this alone, that she needed the support of at least one other senior wizard to help her if it proved to be a trap. And yet she preferred to keep this secret to herself until she knew what was involved. She slipped quietly out of her chamber, pausing a moment at the door to make certain no one was about. Since the lamps had not yet been lit, the passages of the Wizards' Residence were dark and gloomy in the gathering dusk.

  She descended the stairs slowly and cautiously, then paused and smiled with amusement at her own fancies. She was the mistress of this place, not a thief in the night. All the same, she paused for a moment when she came to Kalestraan's door, reviewing in her mind all the magical traps that he might have employed to guard his most hidden secrets. He had been a Fire Wizard, and his traps would have somehow involved fire, possibly sudden jets of flame shot into the face of the curious or brilliant flashes of light to blind probing eyes. Her greatest advantage was that she knew the same fire magic, and her level of experience was nearly equal to what Kalestraan's had been.

  Again Alessa reminded herself nervously that she was not stealing into the domain of a deadly enemy. She had been within these chambers time and again, seeking clues to the location of the stolen Collar of the Dragons. Sir George Kir-bey had also helped her search this place, and his knowledge of magical traps and hiding places was even greater than her own. She had little reason to be concerned until she actually found the source of that mysterious voice, but then she would have to be very careful indeed.

  Forcing back her fears, she opened the door of Kalestraan's former chambers and stepped into the darkness, quietly speaking a word of command to bring the magical lamps to life. The first room had been Kalestraan's office, the place where he had worked or received visitors in private. A door at the back of the room led into a small storage chamber. She knew that same door also led to the only hiding place that they had ever been able to find, but she had known about this secret place since Kalestraan's death and she also knew that the thing calling to her was not there. That lay beyond the third door, in the shadows deep in a narrow opening between two groups of bookcases, which led to the senior wizard's personal suite.

  Alessa opened the door and spoke the word commanding the lights as she stepped inside, pausing for a moment to look about. The room looked just as it always had; she had ordered that nothing was to be removed or changed in any way, so that any possible clues to Kalestraan's conspiracies would not be lost. Now she moved more slowly and cautiously than ever as she began to trace the source of the mysterious call. If any traps remained, this was the most likely place for them. She hoped that any protective magic would have been designed in such a way that it recognized her as Kalestraan's successor, in a sense the heir to his secrets. The fact that the mysterious voice had been calling to her, and to her alone, certainly suggested that such a distinction had been made.

  The voice was now louder than ever, so close that it no longer drew her in any specific direction. For a moment, she wondered if her search would be in vain. Then, as she remained standing just inside the door, she closed her eyes to permit the lure of the mysterious voice to guide her, without the distraction of searching for its source by sight. All her attention was given to her mind's ear, as it were, letting the silent voice guide
her. The source of the call seemed a little more certain to her now, and she took slow, cautious steps in that direction, fighting the urge to open her eyes. The knowledge that she could be walking blindly into a trap kept her nerves on edge.

  Alessa almost jumped back in fright when something touched her, although she realized in the next instant that she had bumped into the side of Kalestraan's bed. She opened her eyes in her moment of fright and she saw, almost to her surprise, that she had located the origin of that mysterious call. Kalestraan's cape with its high, stiff collar hung on a hook beside the bed; he had not been wearing it on the night of his death. Set above the right breast was a broach bearing the small stone indicating his rank, in his case the brilliant red signifying a senior wizard of fire magic. In the distant past of their race, the stone would have been a large, brilliant ruby, but since the Flaem had begun their journey from world to world, times had become more lean and the stone was nothing more than common colored glass.

  Or perhaps this piece of glass was not so common. She saw immediately that a faint glow of red light emanated from deep within the stone, and it was not a reflection from the lamps. She was amused to realize that Kalestraan had not hidden this magical artifact in some safe place guarded with traps, but had worn it in plain sight nearly everywhere he had gone. She had a stone just like it in appearance, although hers really was nothing more than ordinary glass. She hesitated a moment longer, still fearful of traps and also mindful that any strange artifact of magic that Byen Kale,straan had found valuable might well be a thing of evil.

  By her right as Kalestraan's successor, the stone now belonged to her. The object seemed to recognize that. Moving quickly, she reached out and released the pin, slipping the broach from the cape into her hand. The stone reacted to her touch, the distant light pulsing. The voice fell silent at that same instant, almost as if she had startled it. Then, as she stood staring into the stone, fearful of magically probing its secrets with her mind, the mysterious voice resumed, but now it sounded different. It seemed to be demanding to know who she was sharply, impatiently, as if the strange will behind the voice was annoyed at finding itself in an unfamiliar hand. Then, even before she could consider her reply, the voice fell silent and the pale light faded.

  That seemed to put an end to the matter, and Alessa realized that the time had come for her to stop asking for trouble. If the enchanted jewel wasn't willing to talk to her now, then she needed to choose her own time to probe its secrets. That was something she was not prepared to attempt until she had prepared the necessary spells and wards to protect herself from every possible danger. For now, she thought it best to keep the jewel with her, which seemed the best way to prevent it from attempting to lure anyone else. She pinned it to the front of her jacket, amused to think that Kalestraan had kept an object of such value in plain sight, as if it were nothing more than a bauble of little value.

  Alessa left the room and locked the door, then hurried back upstairs to her own rooms. As she walked through the darkening corridors of the Wizards' Residence, she was already considering the mysteries of Kalestraan's enchanted jewel. The fact that it had the ability to call attention to itself was less important to her than the question of why it had chosen to do so at that time. Did it possess a will of its own, or was it simply responding to the will of another, perhaps someone who was becoming curious about why Kalestraan had been away for so long? Of course, she had to admit that she could well be overestimating the power or the potential of the thing. It might be nothing more than a ward, a means Kalestraan had devised to warn him if someone was poking about in his secrets.

  Whatever its true nature, it had been trying to get her attention for some reason, perhaps to warn her of something. She still hoped that it might lead her to the Collar of the Dragons, but she was fearful that she might not have much time. She needed to learn its mysteries as quickly as she could.

  For better or worse, her fascination with the jewel would have to be set aside for tonight. She selected a shawl to wear over her wizard's robe, knowing that it would be cold later on.

  Then she left her chambers and hurried downstairs, certain that the carriage must be waiting by that time. A griffon rider had arrived from Thyatis late that afternoon, which likely meant that Darius Glantri had come for a visit. If so, this evening could be a pleasant one indeed, although Alessa reminded herself that she should excuse herself early and leave the rest of the night to her friends.

  As she settled herself into the carriage for the short ride to Solveig's house, Alessa reflected upon the unexpected turns of her recent life. In the summer of the previous year, in the time of just a few short weeks, she had gone from being an unimportant sorceress at the Academy to the head of her order and an advisor to Thelvyn Fox-Eyes, the Dragonlord and for a time the last King of the Flaem. She had to admit that she had come into her new duties as scheming and self-centered as the old villain she was replacing. And like her predecessor, she had found that her schemes never worked nearly as well as she had expected.

  Alessa had come to regret the part she had played in forcing the Dragonlord to abdicate as the last king of the Flaemish realm. Her only comfort was knowing that Thelvyn had always intended to surrender the throne as soon as the war with the dragons had been settled. Since that time, she had become a devoted member of the council that had been established to replace the king, and she had done much to turn the Fire Wizards of the Flaem from the suspicious, self-serving lot they had been to a genuinely wise and benevolent order. She had been a strong supporter of the leadership of Solveig White-Gold as the head of the council as well as a close friend, even though Solveig had been one of the original companions of the Dragonlord and Alessa's rival.

  The carriage rattled over the cobblestones, the sound echoing dully through the narrow streets. Alessa stared out the window, watching the warm, soft lights that shone behind curtains or through cracks in the shutters of the houses she passed. She thought at times about Thelvyn, having finally come to understand the very last bit of wisdom he had tried to teach her. She had believed, with the conclusion of the war of the dragons, that he had lost everything; she had been surprised and at first disdainful of his claim that he had actually won. Perhaps he had won more than even he had anticipated at the time. She envied him his freedom as a dragon, riding the winds, living and hunting in the wild in the company of his wise and devoted mate. Her own life seemed shallow and demanding by comparison.

  The carriage slowed and then turned to pass through the gate into the yard of Solveig's large house in the wealthy quarter of Braejr, the house that had belonged to the Dragonlord for several years before that. Even as she was stepping down from the carriage, Alessa could hear the impatient calls of the griffon stabled in the warehouse on the west side of the yard. Alessa was often amused to consider what Kharendaen would think if the proud gold dragon cleric knew that her home of five years was now the abode of griffons. She wondered idly if the neighbors believed that the dragon had been better company than the fierce and often noisy creatures now often in residence.

  The young valet, Taeryn, met her at the door, having heard the sounds of her carriage. As far as Alessa knew, Taeryn had been a child of lesser aristocracy who had been sent to Braejr at an early age to work at the palace, where he had served as valet to both King Jherridan and Thelvyn. He was a bit simple, and his duties were the limit of his abilities, but he was always cheerful and eager to please. Since there was no longer any need for him at the palace, he had come here to work for Solveig.

  "Good evening, Alessa," he began. Seeing Solveig coming up behind him, he seemed at a loss to know whether or not his service was still required. After a brief moment, he withdrew quietly. Alessa tried not to smile.

  "Just in time for dinner," Solveig said. Solveig was the tallest woman Alessa had ever seen, taller even than most men. Her long hair, which she usually wore in a single loose braid, was a pale gold in color, so pale that it was almost white in sunlight.

 
; "I hope I'm not intruding," Alessa said. "I couldn't help noticing that there's a griffon in the old warehouse, so I wondered if Captain Glantri was here for a visit."

  "No," Solveig said, standing back so that the sorceress could enter. "A messenger arrived this afternoon bearing a report from Emperor Cornelius."

  "I hope he didn't bring bad news," Alessa commented with some apprehension, pausing to give Taeryn her shawl before she followed Solveig into the dining room.

  "Good news, actually," Solveig explained. "Everything appears to be generally peaceful in the east. There's been no evidence that the Alphatians and the dragons are still in conflict, so it seems that they've finally made their peace."

  Alessa frowned. "Meaning that the Alphatians have finally learned that they are not to trespass in lands the dragons claim as their own. I've heard that they lost at least a third of their fleet."

  "I'm still amazed that they were so determined to take on the dragons."

  "I'm not," Alessa commented sourly. "The Alphatians are related to my people. In taking on the Nation of Dragons, they displayed much the same hardheaded self-righteousness that leads the Flaem to believe that we can defeat the Alphatians."

  They took their places at the table, and Alessa waited silently while Taeryn served dinner. She was thinking, as she always did, of her first night in that house, seated at that same table with Thelvyn and the others. She was embarrassed now to think how she had confidently weaved her schemes in what she had assumed to be a wizardly manner, immediately betraying Byen Kalestraan when the old villain had sent her into that house as his spy. The place always reminded her very much of Thelvyn, especially since Solveig had changed nothing in the few months that he had been gone.

  "Have you heard anything from Thelvyn or Sir George?" she asked.