Then two began a slow lope towards him. A moment later the remaining five fanned out and followed.
Oh…
Sudden calm descended upon him. He knew he was as good as already dead. There would be no time to open the warren to return to his own world-nor would he, in any case, since to do so would give the hounds a path to follow- and I’ll not have their arrival in the oasis a crime staining my soul. Better to die here and now. Duly punished for my obsessive curiosity .
The hounds showed nothing of the speed they had unveiled against the K’ell Hunters, as if they sensed L’oric’s comparative weakness.
He heard water rushing behind him and spun round.
A dragon filled his vision, low over the water-so fast as to lift a thrashing wave in its wake-and the talons spread wide, the huge clawed hands reaching down.
He threw his arms over his face and head as the enormous scaled fingers closed like a cage around him, then snatched him skyward.
A brief, disjointed glimpse of the hounds scattering from the dragon’s shadow-the distant sound of half-human yelps and shrieks-then naught before his eyes but the glistening white belly of the dragon, seen between two curled talons.
He was carried far, out onto a sea, then towards an island where stood a squat tower, its flat roof broad and solid enough for the dragon, wings spreading to thunder against the air, to settle.
The claws opened, tumbling L’oric onto the gouged and scraped stones. He rolled up against the platform’s low wall, then slowly sat up.
And stared at the enormous gold and white dragon, its lambent eyes fixed upon him with, L’oric knew instinctively, reproach. The High Mage managed a shrug.
‘Father,’ he said, ‘I’ve been looking for you.’
Osric was not one for furnishings and decor. The chamber beneath the platform was barren, its floor littered with the detritus left by nesting swallows, the air pungent with guano.
L’oric leaned against a wall, arms crossed, watching his father pace.
He was pure Liosan in appearance, tall and pale as snow, his long, wavy hair silver and streaked with gold. His eyes seemed to rage with an inner fire, its tones a match to his hair, silver licked by gold. He was wearing plain grey leathers, the sword at his belt virtually identical to the one L’oric carried.