Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III Read Online Free

hoped the tide had not turned somehow.
    “What are you thinking too much about now?”
    The warlock turned to his wife, who had just entered the room. Gwendolyn Bedlam was a tall woman with fiery red hair that cascaded downward, falling nearly to her waist. A single wide stripe of silver ran back across her hair, marking her, as it did Queen Erini of Talak and Cabe, as a magic user. She had emerald eyes that sparkled when she was pleased and full lips that were presently curled into a smile. The forest green robe she wore was more free-flowing than his dark blue one, yet somehow it clung to her form, perfectly outlining her voluptuous body. He met her halfway across the room and took her in his arms. Their kiss was as long and as lingering as the first time they had ever kissed. Cabe, with his slightly crooked nose and roundish face, had often wondered how someone of such ordinary features and mild build as himself had ever been so fortunate as to win her hand.
    When he was at last able to separate himself from her, Cabe replied, “I was thinking of many things, but mostly about what we learned in Talak.”
    “The black ships?”
    He nodded. “Maybe I’m just worried about the Gryphon. He did so much for me when I was confused and afraid all those years ago. He gave us refuge. Now, not a word in so much time . . . and then this sudden rumor.”
    “The trip across takes a long time, Cabe.” Gwen took his arm and started to lead him out of the room. “Perhaps the last ship was delayed.”
    He nodded, but the nagging feeling would not disappear. “Maybe, but I can’t help feeling that something has happened.”
    “Troia and Demion would not let anything happen to him. Demion sounds very protective of his father.” Although they had never met the Gryphon’s mate or his son, they knew them almost as well as if they had visited them every day.
    “I suppose . . .”
    His father was a bear of a man, taller than he was and with so commanding a presence that he always felt compelled to kneel before him. Both of them were clad in the same green dragonscale armor, but whereas he merely felt hot and uncomfortable, his father truly was the warrior incarnate, a true standard by which the rest of the clan measured itself.
    The bearded figure looked down at him. “I expect complete loyalty from all of my sons! You won’t fail me like your brothers, will you?”
    And it seemed that more than one voice answered, for it seemed there were others beside him, all kneeling before the man they called father. . . .
    “Cabe?”
    “Father?” He blinked. “Gwen?”
    She turned him so that they faced each other. There was deep concern in her eyes, concern bordering on fear for him. She stroked his cheek. “Are you all right? You froze there for a moment and your eyes turned upward. I thought you were about to pass out!”
    “I . . .” What had happened? “I had . . . a flash of something.”
    The enchantress pushed aside several locks of crimson hair that had fallen over her face in the excitement. Her expression clouded. “You muttered ‘father.’ Was it . . . was it Azran?”
    The name still sent chills running through him. “Azran’s dead and I’d never call him father, anyway. He was only responsible for my birth. Hadeen, the halfelf my grandfather got to raise me . . . he was my father if anyone was. Besides, this was someone else’s father . . . though I felt as if he and I were the same for that moment.”
    “What did you see?”
    He described the scene to her, discovering then how murky everything had been. It was as if the vision were very old. Cabe mentioned as much to Gwen.
    “A ghost of the far past . . .” she suggested, glancing around at their surroundings. “The Manor is very, very old. It could be you walked into one of its memories.” In the time since they had made the Manor their home, they had discovered that it was haunted. Not by true ghosts and undead, but rather by living memories of the many who