Brisbois stood and smiled blackly. “Yes. What’s more, I’ll bring him to you. It’ll be my pleasure, Flinn. I’ll return as soon as possible.” Brisbois went to the door, then hesitated. “The… interment for Yvaughan is taking place this evening. The baroness said she would hold a brief ceremony.” He left the room.
Flinn nodded, his eyes distant and unseeing. Jo reached over and covered his hand with hers. “I’m sorry about Yvaughan,” she said quietly.
The knight turned to her and clasped her hand in his. “Thank you, Johauna. I … appreciate your concern, more than I can tell you.” Then Flinn withdrew his hands and rested his chin on them. “If Maloch Kine—or this Teryl Auroch—really are one and the same, what do you suppose that means?” Flinn shook his head and turned to the boy. “Dayin? Are you certain that man was your father?”
Dayin’s lips quivered, and tears touched his eyes. “It was him,” he whispered. He leaned against Karleah for comfort, the old woman putting her bony arm around the boy’s slender shoulders.
Jo asked, “Why would your father abandon you like that, Dayin? Did something happen to him? Did he think you were dead?”
The boy’s face worked. “He—he just disappeared. I don’t know. It was a long time ago. I thought… it seemed like he died.”
“The explosion?” Flinn asked.
The boy nodded. “There was an explosion in the tower, and that’s when my father disappeared. I stayed there, waiting for him to come home, but he never did. I—I thought he was dead.” A tear trickled down his cheek. “He wouldn’t just leave me, would he? My father was a good man.” Karleah patted the boy awkwardly, then gave him a little shake.
Braddoc spoke up. “Remember, Auroch and Kine are both old terms for cattle. That seemed a bit odd to me.”
“What gets me,” Flinn mused, rubbing his shaved chin and smoothing his trimmed moustache, “what gets me, is just what this mage was doing with Verdilith as Lord Maldrake. What could he gain? Did he know—”
Brisbois opened the door then, accompanied by a short, nervous man—the man who had led Yvaughan into the council area earlier that day. He carried a buff-colored bird in the crook of his arm. Flinn stood slowly, pushing his chair back as he did. Jo followed his example, one hand resting on her sword, and moved into position next to Flinn. She pulled on her blade, letting it rest an inch or two out of the scabbard’s top. The man might be a powerful mage, but she would protect Flinn regardless of what happened, even at the cost of her life. Dayin huddled in Karleah’s arms, and the dwarf stood near the two protectively. Braddoc fingered his battle-axe.
“Sir Flinn,” Brisbois was saying, his voice heavy with irony, “may I introduce you to Teryl Auroch? He was just leaving the castle, but some guards helped me ‘persuade’ him to call on you first.” He nodded his thanks to three or four men standing in the hall and then closed the door.
The mage stepped farther into the room, his brilliant blue eyes averted. In one hand, he nervously held the bird, while the other hand carried a valise. He was wearing a fur-lined traveler’s cape. Jo counted it fortunate that Brisbois had caught the man in time. “You wished to see me, Master—er—Sir Flinn?” Teryl Auroch asked. His words were smoothly polished, without inflection, but to Jo they sounded disdainful.
“Yes, Master Auroch,” Flinn added his own emphasis to the man’s lesser title. “I will be hunting Verdilith in the morning, and I want to know the extent of your involvement with the dragon as Lord Maldrake.”
The short man shrugged nonchalantly, and then shook as if suddenly cold. “Like Sir Brisbois, I was enchanted—”
“You were not!” Brisbois yelled hotly.
“Brisbois!” Flinn shouted. “Mind your place!” Brisbois glowered at Flinn but then stepped away. Flinn turned back to the mage. “Continue, please.”
“I was enchanted by the dragon,” Auroch said. “Now that Lord Maldrake has disappeared, I am once more in command of myself. I am traveling south to Specularum to find a position there.”
Flinn gestured at Dayin. “And what of your son here?” he asked. Dayin stepped next to Flinn and looked at the mage, tears and hope in his eyes.
A spasm shook Teryl Auroch’s body again, then passed. His brilliant eyes darted more nervously than ever. Jo was convinced he hadn’t even looked at the boy. “My son? I have no idea what you are talking about. I have no son.”
Flinn eyed the mage with distaste, then turned to the boy and touched his arm. “Dayin,” Flinn asked gently, “is this man your father? Think carefully. It has been two years since you saw him.”
Dayin’s blue eyes perused the man who stood before him, silently beseeching the mage to look at him. When the nervous man still didn’t, the boy lowered his head, one quick tear escaping his eyes. “No,” Dayin said in a small voice some moments later, “no, he isn’t my father.”
Jo thought she heard him mutter “anymore” under his breath as he turned back to the comfort of Karleah’s arms. The old woman was watching Auroch with an intensity that would have unnerved many. Auroch, however, seemed oblivious to the wizardess’ scrutiny.
Flinn pointed to the bird Auroch carried. “That bird is the mate to the creature we killed in the great hall today. Why do you have it?”
“How observant you are.” The mage smiled jerkily. “Yes, it is the mate to the other, but far less dangerous, even in its true form. I am taking it with me so that I can dispose of the creature properly. I hope you have no objections?” He gave a tiny, mocking bow.
“Yes, I do,” Flinn responded suddenly. He took a step toward the mage. “As Lady Yvaughan’s former husband, I claim her ‘beloved pet’ as my own. Please give it to me at once.”
The mage pulled the bird tighter to his chest. “This is an evil creature, Sir Flinn, one from a dimension beyond our own world. What could you, a mere knight, do against such a creature should it revert to true form?”
“You said it was less powerful than its mate, which was dispatched easily enough,” Flinn reminded Auroch. He held out his hand. “That bird, and its mate, were gifts from someone years ago. I now believe that person must have been Verdilith in disguise, and for years his pets whispered words of corruption to Yvaughan. She lies in state tonight,” Flinn paused. “I will slay her other nemesis and offer it to her spirit as it departs.” Flinn took another step forward, and Jo followed him. Braddoc circled around the other side of the table, and Brisbois blocked the mage’s exit. Karleah stayed where she was seated, but she pushed Dayin under the table and began muttering under her breath.
Teryl Auroch’s eyes glittered angrily, and his weak chin quivered with rage. “I don’t fear you, Fain Flinn—precious knight of Penhaligon! And unlike Brisbois, I shall not fail my orders!” the mage shouted. One hand shot upward, and he yelled two words of power in an ancient language. Fwoomp! A swirling column of flame appeared between the mage and Flinn. Jo stepped to the knight’s side, her sword drawn.
Wyrmblight lay poised in Flinn’s hands, and Braddoc’s battle-axe gleamed dully in the fiery light.
Auroch’s upheld hand clenched into a fist, and he slowly pushed his fist toward Flinn. The whirling flame began to grow. Slowly it advanced on Flinn. A low, almost inaudible roar began to fill the room. As the whirling column of flame rose and broadened, the roar doubled and redoubled until it sounded like a thousand fires blazing through a forest.
Flinn held Wyrmblight higher and shouted to Braddoc, “Now!” The dwarf threw his axe squarely at the mage. The sharp blade whirled through the air, its keen edge seeking Auroch. Suddenly, the blade struck an aura surrounding the wizard and fell, marring the polished wooden floor. Auroch, oblivious to the attack, began moving the fiery cyclone closer to Flinn.
“Brisbois!” Flinn shouted. “Attack Auroch’s back! Jo, skirt around and join Braddoc. Try to distract the mage!” Flinn cautiously sidestepped to evade the blazing pillar of flame. Ignoring everyone else in the room, Auroch followed the knight’s move, and the whirlwind slowly drove Flinn
into a corner.
Jo and Braddoc warily approached the mage. Why isn’t Brisbois attacking? Jo wondered, then signaled to the man when she caught his eye. But Brisbois, his hands trembling with fear, only waved her on. The bondsman held his quivering sword in readiness, but he wouldn’t leave the door. Jo turned to Braddoc. The dwarf gestured toward Brisbois, glowered with his good eye, and then shook his head. Retrieving his battle-axe from the floor, Braddoc positioned himself further to one side of the mage and nodded at Jo. This is it! Jo thought quickly, the excitement of impending battle rushing through her. She ran forward at the same time as the dwarf and swung her sword, aiming for the mage’s knees. Braddoc’s battle-axe sought Auroch’s chest.
An incredible jolt of pain ripped through Jo’s fingers, spreading inside her hands and into her arms. The pommel of her sword felt as though a thousand hot needles protruded from it, and each one seared into her hands. Jo gasped aloud in pain. Her fingers wanted to uncurl and drop the sword, but she forced herself to remember Flinn’s maxim: Keep your blade at all costs, or else you die. Though the pain drove Jo to her knees, she drew her sword back for another stroke. Braddoc was also on his knees; he was struggling to regain the axe he had dropped.
The mage lowered his fist and slowly, carefully, uncurled his fingers, forming his hand into a crescent shape. The fiery column leaped toward Flinn. It arched high above the knight’s head, grazing the wooden rafters. It swelled, becoming as wide as Flinn was tall and then growing wider still. The flames swirled violently, the roar of the fire was deafening. Dishes rattled, drifting off the table and breaking as they met the floor. One window’s panes of glass refused to bear the pressure anymore, and the glass exploded outward.
The heat was growing intense; the candles in the room melted. An unreal, shimmering aura hung in the air, distorting Jo’s vision. The spinning column of fire grew more intense, its color shifting from blazing yellow to lightning white. Jo squinted, her hands still numb from the sword. She climbed shakily to her feet and Braddoc did the same, his battle-axe in hand again. Jo nodded at the dwarf, and they prepared themselves for one more attack. Somewhere behind that wall of flame stood Flinn, trapped.
“Stand back!” shouted the old wizardess above the crackling of the flames. Karleah Kunzay jumped onto the table, suddenly spry for such an ancient woman, and more dishes scattered onto the floor. She stretched out her hands toward the fiery tornado. Blue flames streamed from her fingers, their paths fluctuating wildly but seeking the white flames of Auroch’s conjuration.
Incredibly, Jo watched the blue flames circle and entwine the white tornado. Wind rushed in from the broken window and flung small objects into the air. The intense heat began to subside and was replaced by a strange, growing coldness. Jo stared at the blue flames snaking around the tornado of fire. Was that a wall of ice forming at the base of the tornado? She blinked to clear her eyes and looked more closely. Yes! she thought. Karleah’s doing it!
The circle of ice climbed higher. Auroch clenched his fist and goaded on the fiery tornado, but the wall of ice securely trapped the flame. Then, with horror, Jo saw the mage suddenly, chillingly, smile. The man’s evil grimace grew as the wall climbed higher and the flames of fire disappeared inside. He lifted both hands slowly into the hair, one hand wrapped around the buff-colored bird.
Jo bit back the pain as she lifted her sword once again. Her palms felt as though they had been sliced open and salt poured into the wounds. Tears rained across her hot cheeks. Whatever the mage was about to do, whatever treacherous new spell he was about to unleash, she had to stop him. Perhaps his aura would fail him soon, and she and Braddoc could strike a blow against the man.
From the corner of Jo’s eye, she saw Dayin stumble out from beneath the heavy table. The child raised his hands, and his lips moved. Incredibly, a tiny ball of light brighter than the tornado flashed directly in front of Auroch. An instant later, a pair of doves fluttered in the man’s face. At the same time, the wall of ice came to a peak, the tornado of fire contained within. Karleah laughed her old crone’s cackle.
It was the moment Jo had been waiting for. Without hesitation, she and Braddoc stepped forward, weapons raised. Jo brought her sword down against the arm of the mage. Her blade sank into the man’s thin shoulder, and again the jolting pain of a thousand needles ripped through her. Involuntarily, her fingers dropped the sword. Nearby, Braddoc fell. Suddenly the wall of ice exploded, and chunks of ice and bits of fiery coal flew through the room. Jo fell to her knees, hiding her face with her crippled hands and huddling to the floor. The roar crested in one final boom.
Silence.
The young squire dropped her hands from her face and looked around, stupefied. Flinn stood in the far corner, Wyrmblight held before him. Braddoc lay on the floor near his battle-axe, and Dayin huddled next to the dwarf. Karleah stood on the table, her hands still held before her in mid-motion.
Teryl Auroch and Sir Brisbois were gone.
Jo shook her head and blinked. Other than a few dishes that had fallen from the table, nothing was broken. The window was intact, the candles were still lit. For a single instant, Johauna questioned whether Teryl Auroch had ever been in the room.
But the remains of a buff-colored bird with brilliant green markings lay on the floor in a pool of melted ice.
Chapter XVI
Flinn nodded to the castellan and grabbed the man’s wrist in a final greeting. “Thank you, Sir Graybow, for the provisions, and for your help in regaining my honor.”
The old castellan nodded and smiled. “You’d better be off before dawn breaks. The courtyard’s full of well-wishers who’ll be waking up any moment.”
Flinn turned to Jo, Braddoc, Dayin, and Karleah, who were leading their various steeds out from one of the castle’s minor stables. “Are your mounts prepared?” Flinn asked. They nodded, white breath whirling from their mouths in the predawn air. The lack of morning light lent a sinister feeling to the early departure, but Flinn knew secrecy was necessary. He and his friends had to leave the Castle of the Three Suns without being seen—and without being attacked by Teryl Auroch or Sir Brisbois if either were still around. Karleah Kunzay thought the two men had been consumed by the magicks, but Flinn wasn’t as easily convinced.
“You’re sure no one saw sign of them?” Flinn asked the castellan once more. “I’d rather hunt their master, but if Brisbois and Auroch are still here…”
The older man sighed and said patiently, “No sign, Sir Flinn. None of my guards saw either the knight or the mage. If they are gone, good riddance, I say.” He touched Flinn’s arm briefly. “I’m in charge of the baroness’ safety, Sir Flinn. Tell me truly: have I anything to fear from Teryl Auroch? Or from Sir Brisbois?”
Flinn grunted. “Karleah Kunzay insists Auroch’s magic was weak—that the illusion came from Verdilith through the bird. But, if the mage is still around, he could be anywhere—and he could be dangerous.”
“And Brisbois?” the castellan asked.
Flinn shrugged. “I think he has enough sense not to come back to the castle. From him you won’t have anything to worry about, but Auroch… perhaps yes. Take care, Sir Graybow.”
The older knight gripped Flinn’s wrist again. “I wish you good hunting, my friend. Hurry back, and we’ll teach that squire of yours a few tricks.” He smiled at Jo, then stepped back and waved as Flinn and the others mounted.
“May Thor and his warrior’s honor remain with you always, Sir Graybow,” Flinn said formally, then touched his heels to Ariac’s flanks. The griffon responded immediately and entered the long, winding tunnel that led to one of the minor exits from the castle. Graybow had taken the precaution of dousing nearly all the lights along the route Flinn would take to leave the castle, but the knight trusted his mount’s night vision. Ariac moved forward unerringly, his peculiar-sounding stride marking time. The soft thump from the pads gripped by his front claws alternated with the harder thud of his hind lion’s feet.
Just as the sun
was beginning to rise, Flinn’s party exited the tunnel onto the long sloping approach leading from the castle. Flinn pulled Ariac to a halt, the dawning light just touching his face. He turned and gestured for Jo to join him, and she moved Carsig to his side.
“Look, Jo,” he breathed, joy in his voice, as he pointed to the hills to the east. “There is the reason why we are here, why this castle was built, and why we are tied to this land. Look!”
Jo’s gray eyes turned to where Flinn pointed. A moment later exaltation lit her face. She gave Flinn one shy, beatific smile, then turned back to the view.
There, between the two hills known as the Craven Sisters, rose the sun. It was cloven in three. Great, crescent wedges of brilliant red shimmered upward through the hills, and in another moment the disks would join and become one.
Flinn sighed with bittersweet joy. “It is said that as long as the three suns rise and become one, then the lands of Penhaligon will stand. If the three suns fail, so too will Penhaligon,” Flinn said softly. The three segments burst across the horizon and melded into one glowing orb.
It was the dawn of a new day, but they couldn’t linger to admire the sunrise. The time for hard riding had come. The morning shone cold and clear, without a hint of snow—perfect weather for a winter hunt. Flinn gave the signal and Ariac leaped forward.
* * *
Braddoc stomped into camp and fell to the ground beside Dayin. Jo, equally dejected, followed the dwarf at a slower pace. She sat down next to Karleah on a fallen log that lay at the center of their camp. Jo moaned a little as her sore muscles hit the hard wood, and she grabbed a nearby fur to provide extra padding. She stretched her long, cold legs toward the fire.
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