“Oh, my!” Rapp finally managed. “Did Valkyn do that? … Of course he did. What a stupid question! Does it hurt much?”
Stone chuckled, a somber, defeated sound. “Pain is nothing. Master knows that. That is why Master took wings.…”
The small figure swallowed. To gargoyles, flight was considered as much a natural part of their existence as eating or sleeping. Rapp tried to imagine not having the nimble hands that enabled him to open locks or investigate interesting containers or pockets. What a horrible existence that would be!
“I’m sorry, Stone.” The gargoyle paid him no more mind having returned to a sitting position. Rapp remained silent for a moment, then asked, “Stone, if you don’t want my help, could you at least answer a question for me? It’s real important. Do you know where Tyros is being held?”
With little interest, the gargoyle pointed down the corridor in the direction that the kender had been heading. “There.”
“Thank you.” Rapp stepped away, then hesitated, unwilling to leave Stone in such a condition. Even if the creature no longer cared what happened to himself, Rapp had to do something.
The lock on the cell door opened easily. Rapp approached Stone, who paid him no attention. Even when the kender looked over the glowing manacles, Stone only glanced up once in disinterest.
The manacles themselves were simple, but what surprised Rapp was that the spell on them seemed to be no impediment against lock picking. Valkyn had evidently only worried about the gargoyle’s magic, not the fact that someone might simply unlock the bonds. Even when Rapp toyed with the mechanism, nothing happened. It was almost disappointing.
With practiced skill, the kender opened the first manacle, then watched in frustration as Stone simply let the freed limb drop to the floor. Undaunted, Rapp worked on the rest. Stone sat still through the entire process, looking as miserable as ever and not a bit grateful.
“Come on, Stone! You can’t stay here. If they find you, they’ll just lock you up again.”
“Cannot fly …”
“You could ride one of the griffons … I think.” Rapp didn’t know if they would accept a gargoyle as a rider, but he could think of nothing else. If not for what had happened to Serene, he might have suggested Stone go to the cleric for help. “After all, she’s a cleric of Branchala, who watches over animals, and I suppose a gargoyle might count for that,” he mused out loud. “Maybe she could have even made him new wings.”
Stone suddenly stirred. “New wings?”
“Well, as a cleric, she probably could have, but—”
“New wings!” The leathery monster jumped up, all trace of his earlier lethargy gone. “Yesss …”
“Now, just a minute! I said she could have, but Valkyn cast a spell on her that—”
Stone no longer listened. The fiery orbs blazed. The gargoyle’s claws flexed in anticipation. Even the two burned stubs twitched, as if he already sought to test the new wings he hoped to receive. “Yesss … the cleric …”
“Stone!” Rapp chased after him, but the gargoyle moved with incredible speed, rushing out of the cell and down the corridor in the opposite direction the kender needed to go. Rapp paused, unwilling to follow any farther. He had a more important mission. The kender only prayed that by releasing Stone he hadn’t ruined that mission. Somehow Rapp doubted that the gargoyle would be able to keep his escape secret long if he went charging down every hall searching for Serene.
What would Stone do once he discovered that the cleric couldn’t even help herself, let alone the gargoyle?
Rapp had no time to ponder that. He hurried on down the corridor the opposite way, following Stone’s vague direction and hoping he would discover Tyros soon.
The halls here were not lit by glowing crystals, but rather a few torches spread intermittently along the walls. For humans, the hallways would have been dark and gloomy. Not only could the kender see well, but he also enjoyed the spooky effect given off by the flickering flames. Rapp imagined wonderfully scary ghosts and creatures inhabiting the castle, perhaps even the spirit of the Solamnic Knight who had built Atriun in the first—
A figure seemingly made of shadow loomed over him, reaching out with one bony but strong-looking hand.
Rapp backed away just in time. Under the heavy robe, vacant eyes stared at the kender, sending an exciting chill through the tiny intruder. Rapp knew that he had to be close to his goal; otherwise, this unliving sentry would not have appeared so suddenly. Some invisible spell must have alerted the creature … at least, that would have been how the kender would have designed the trap.
Pulling his slingshot free, Rapp thrust a round stone into the sling, then let loose. His aim proved true. The missile scored a direct hit on the forehead of the ghoulish servant. Unfortunately, it bounced off without any noticeable effect.
“Oh, dear.” Backing away farther, the kender drew a dagger … not his own, but one that somehow had slipped from Bakal’s belt into his. For the smaller Rapp, the dagger nearly served as a short sword. He waved the weapon at the shadow servant, who hesitated. So, blades did worry them. Feeling more daring, Rapp thrust it forward, trying to drive the unliving guardian back.
A hand seized the dagger by the blade. Thick black fluid spread from where the blade cut into dead flesh, but the ghoulish sentry remained undeterred. With strength belying its emaciated form, the creature tore the dagger from Rapp’s grip, dropping it on the floor. The other hand again sought the kender’s throat.
Rapp looked around for a weapon and noticed the torch nearest him. Whoever mounted it had been ignorant of kender needs and so had set the torches too high. That left the annoyed kender with nothing more to do but keep retreating, not at all a proper course of action.
And even that course of action vanished as another of the grotesque undead came at him from behind.
“Now, this really isn’t fair!” The shadow servants, though, didn’t care about fairness. The second one reached out skeletal fingers, seeking Rapp’s topknot. The kender pulled away, wincing as a few strands of hair were torn free.
Flattening himself against the wall, Rapp again looked at the torch. A metal ring also held the torch in its niche, which meant that the odds of knocking one free with his sling were minimal. For Rapp to reach the torch, he would have had to grow another two feet.
Or …
Rapp studied the two approaching undead, trying to judge which was most suitable for his plan. While neither much appealed to him, the one to his right was positioned best. All the kender had to do was wait a second or two more … and hope his plan worked as well as it sounded to him.
One step. Another step.
His chance came at last.
The small figure suddenly charged the nearest hooded ghoul, leaping at the last moment. Caught unaware, the pale horror reacted slowly, enabling Rapp to use his adversary’s arms to climb up. As the shadow servant’s grip tightened around Rapp’s torso, the inventive kender took hold of the torch.
He gasped as thin, bony limbs tried to crush his breath from him. Rapp brought the torch down toward the drawn countenance of his foe, setting the hood on fire. The dead face revealed no shock, but the shadow servant released him and tried to put the flames out. Instead, the sleeves of his robe caught fire.
The other attacker paid little heed to his companion’s troubles, reaching again for the kender’s topknot. Rapp twisted and thrust the torch at the groping hand. The shadow servant pulled back singed fingers. Although they had some sense of self-preservation, they clearly did not feel pain, for despite the blackened appendage, the ghoul lunged forward once more.
Stepping away, Rapp nearly collided with his first adversary, who, even though his entire form was now ablaze, seemed more concerned with seizing the kender. Rapp ducked under fiery arms, then rolled past. He came up behind the burning figure and, with careful aim, kicked.
The blazing ghoul stumbled forward, falling into the arms of the other creature. Flames spread over the hands and sleeves
of the second. The first tried to rise but collapsed again. This time it remained still.
With effort, the remaining ghoul abandoned the other and tried to pursue Rapp. However, the shadow servant’s steps were ragged, undirected. The hooded figure collided with one wall, then the other. Rapp used the confusion to further set the creature aflame, and in moments the second servant had turned into a fiery inferno.
Still reaching for the kender, the robed horror dropped to the floor. Flames quickly consumed what was left.
Rapp wrinkled his nose at the stench. Despite his victory, the kender felt a bit sad. These had once been men, albeit men who had died long ago. He had not killed men, only the abominations someone else had made of their corpses.
And that brought his attention back to Tyros.
A short distance down the corridor, Rapp at last came across two large doors that surely had to be the ones leading to the mage. As if to verify that, a cry from within shook the kender to his very being. He recognized Tyros’s voice and recognized also the intense agony the human suffered.
To Rapp’s surprise, the doors weren’t locked. With some caution, he pushed one open and peered inside.
The kender’s eyes widened.
Valkyn’s creation towered over Rapp, nearly touching the high ceiling of the chamber. The twin marble columns were thicker than the trunks of the mightiest trees, and upon them were etched symbols and words of magic that seemed to squirm with life of their own. Above each was positioned a huge crystal that blazed like a miniature sun.
To his surprise, Rapp discovered that he was not so fascinated by the arcane device as he was repulsed. It felt evil. Rapp had never come across anything that actually felt evil, and he would have expected such a discovery to fill him with excitement. Instead, just looking at it made the kender shiver, especially seeing what it had done to the helpless wizard chained to it.
Tyros looked haggard, his skin pale and drawn. The mage’s hair had turned partially gray. He was thinner, too, his robe hanging loose. Tyros slumped as low as his chains would allow.
The great crystals suddenly flared. Raw energy crackled between them. Tyros screamed.
A bolt of energy shot toward the ceiling, flowing through it as if the stone and wood did not exist.
The glow around the crystals subsided again. The captive mage groaned, falling forward. He looked older, more worn.
Rapp surveyed the chamber and saw that other than Tyros and himself, it was empty. The kender noted a stool near one table. Finding a place to put the torch, Rapp grabbed the stool and rushed over to the captive. Tyros looked up as he neared, and although surprise momentarily flashed in his eyes, he didn’t look at all hopeful.
“Don’t worry. I’ll set you free!”
The mage started to say something, but his words twisted suddenly into renewed screaming. The sound hurt Rapp’s ears. He couldn’t let Tyros suffer any longer. His best lockpick in hand, the kender positioned the stool, and climbed up so that he could reach the glowing manacle binding Tyros’s left wrist. The manacle looked identical to the ones that had secured Stone, which gave Rapp every confidence that he would soon have his friend released.
Tyros suddenly jerked his wrist away, at the same time blurting, “N-No!”
He screamed again, leaving the kender to stand there, frustrated. How could he help the mage if Tyros did contrary things like that? Didn’t he realize that Rapp had to work fast to rescue him?
Once more Rapp reached for the manacle, Tyros again pulled his wrist out of reach.
Confused and annoyed, the small figure glared at his friend. “Tyros, it’s me, Rapp. Stop doing that so I can get you free!”
Gritting his teeth, his eyes tearing, Tyros forced the words out: “Manacles … magic! If you touch … you’ll die!”
The mage slumped forward. Rapp stared at Tyros, then at the manacle. He had opened the ones holding the gargoyle without incident, but the mage said these were different. Valkyn must have put a potent spell on them, not wanting to take any chance of someone removing his fellow wizard.
Rapp swallowed, feeling uncommonly dismayed. If he couldn’t unlock the manacles, then how could he free Tyros? And if he couldn’t free Tyros, how could any of them hope to escape?
Chapter 16
A Prayer Answered
From the battlements of Atriun, Bakal watched the defenders and invaders maneuver themselves in preparation for the battle. He tried his best to keep his despair hidden from his captors. With Castle Atriun at full strength and no dragons to protect the city, Gwynned would surely fall. First, though, the wizard and the general wanted to make certain that no outside resistance remained. Those defenders that survived the citadel’s attack from above would be annihilated, driven into the swords of their foes.
“Many will die,” Cadrio reminded him. “The longer the battle, the more deaths. You can save a number of lives, Captain. Give us specifics on Gwynned’s strengths, and we can end this battle swiftly. Minimal losses. Men can go back to their wives and children … if they also acknowledge their new master, of course.”
The general seemed very eager for results, and from the glances the man gave the wizard, Bakal gathered that Cadrio wanted desperately to please Valkyn. However, the scarred veteran would be damned if he would help the villain do that. “There’s nothing I can tell you.”
“If not you, then perhaps one of them.” He pointed at the two remaining soldiers. Galan, the younger of the pair, leaned heavily against Korbius, a veteran like Bakal. As with Bakal, the two men had been released from their bonds, but their captors hardly feared that they would try anything. Korbius’s leg had been torn open by the gargoyles, leaving him unable to run. As for young Galan, he could barely stand and, if the captain were any judge of neck wounds, slipped nearer to death with each passing moment.
“We’ll not betray our home and our kin,” dark-skinned Korbius muttered. Galan nodded agreement, unable to say anything.
“Then we’ve no use for either of you,” the wizard suddenly announced. He had been quiet for the most part, letting Cadrio do the questioning. Now, despite his disinterested expression, he had evidently run out of patience. “Crag, eliminate them.”
The monstrous gargoyle turned toward Korbius and Galan.
“No! Wait!” Bakal started for the beast, but two sentries in black, men as nervous as Cadrio seemed, held him in place.
The winged beast hissed. Korbius put young Galan behind him, then brought up both fists, but Bakal knew how little good those hands would be against the hard hide of Crag.
The soldier swung, striking the gargoyle in the beak. Korbius grimaced at the pain, but Crag easily shrugged off the blow. With fiendish glee, the eager gargoyle fluttered high above the pair, then quickly dropped down on them, talons extended.
Korbius put his hands up, trying to hold the murderous creature off, but Crag’s sheer weight brought the humans to the ground. Galan struck his head and lay still. The older soldier struggled in vain to keep the toothy jaws from his throat.
Bakal turned his gaze away as Crag’s claws and teeth swiftly ended the horrible, one-sided struggle.
“That’ll be enough, Crag,” Valkyn finally commanded. To the human guards holding Bakal, he added, “Show him the price for not cooperating.”
They forced his gaze back to the mangled bodies. Bakal barely managed to keep the contents of his stomach down. Crag had clearly thrown himself into his task. Even now the horrific gargoyle perched nearby, licking his blood-soaked paws clean. The creature looked up at him and gave what seemed a macabre imitation of the wizard’s own mocking smile.
“This is what fate awaits your kin below,” Valkyn calmly stated. “I’d rather not see such bloodshed if we can do this properly. You could save lives by cutting short the battle. Tell us about the catapults, the intentions of the commanders, and where the weakest links in the lines likely are.”
Bakal couldn’t betray his people. “You must be joking. You’ll have to fight to
win your prize, spellcaster.”
Cadrio reached for his knife. “Let me begin on him, Valkyn.”
Before the goateed wizard could decide, a noise from below caught the attention of everyone.
“What was that?” Valkyn demanded.
The general turned from Bakal, gazing over the edge. “It’s the Ergothians. They’ve decided not to wait. They’re on the move!”
Sure enough, the defenders had decided not to wait any longer for Valkyn’s forces. The noise those in Atriun had heard were the sounds of catapults launching their deadly missiles. Even as Bakal and the others watched, the first missiles struck.
Massive boulders flew through the sky. Simple but very deadly, they shot unerringly toward the enemy. With the catapults positioned on higher ground, the defenders gained even more distance on their shots. The stone missiles dropped into the first ranks of the invaders, wreaking havoc.
Even as the enemy struggled to maintain position, a huge form emerged from the hills, wending its way toward Gwynned’s foes.
Sunfire.
Initially cheered by the sight, Bakal realized quickly that the dragon had suffered greatly from his previous encounter with the citadel. Sunfire moved more slowly than usual and, with one wing in tatters, clearly would never fly again. Still, a dragon on the ground, especially a gold one, could spell disaster for the enemy soldiers.
“Our men will be decimated unless something is done!” Cadrio snapped.
“And do something we will, General.” Pulling out the crystal wand, Valkyn turned his gaze toward the central tower.
At that moment, an incredible force shook Atriun.
The fortress moved as if struck by an earthquake. Atriun tipped forward, forcing everyone to grab hold of whatever was handy or be tossed over the side. One of Bakal’s guards lost his grip and fell over the battlements, screaming. Crag abandoned his roost, opting for the safety of the sky.
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