The kender would lie in the wooded garden of the castle, hidden from the gargoyles. Tyros would see what he could do later on for his companion, but for now this would have to do. Serene and Bakal still needed him.
Thinking of the others, Tyros recalled Valkyn’s earlier words. Valkyn had believed the captive spellcaster responsible for a dramatic change in the storm, but had realized that it had to be someone else. Tyros could think of only one other person with such potential.
Serene.
* * * * *
The cleric continued to sing despite the terrible tableau before her. As Crag leaped at Stone, she fully expected this to be the end of the smaller gargoyle. Serene nearly stopped singing, intent on doing something to save Stone’s life, but then the gargoyle suddenly burst into action.
His feet came up as Crag dropped on him. Caught off guard, the larger gargoyle left his midsection open. Stone kicked with both taloned feet, not only throwing his startled rival backward, but leaving a trail of bleeding scars across Crag’s torso.
Stone didn’t wait for Crag to land. He darted after the larger creature, catching Crag before he could recover. Stone slashed at his foe’s chest twice, turning the other gargoyle’s torso into a crimson field.
Breathing heavily, Crag managed a strong blow against the side of Stone’s head. The smaller gargoyle wobbled back. Unfortunately for Crag, he couldn’t pursue his advantage. Still winded and dripping his life fluids, he moved sluggishly, enabling Stone to recover.
Taking flight, the smaller gargoyle maneuvered over his slowing rival, avoiding the sharp horns and grasping claws. Crag tried to keep Stone before him but could not. Stone waited until he had gotten completely behind his more massive opponent, then dropped on top of him.
Stone sank his talons deep into the larger gargoyle’s back. Crag tried to shake him off but could not. The badly wounded monster fell to his knees.
Stone leaned forward and sank his jaws into Crag’s neck.
Crag howled. The massive gargoyle’s struggles grew weaker and his breathing turned ragged. He tried to roll over onto Stone, but the other gargoyle refused to let him.
The toll was too much. Crag finally slumped forward. He hissed once … and then lay still.
The triumphant gargoyle let out a cry that chilled Serene even as she silently cheered his victory. Stone then took hold of the massive corpse by the feet and dragged it to the balcony. As the cleric watched, ever mindful of her own task, he hefted Crag’s body over his head and roared again.
Despite the storm, the wind, and her own song and music, the cleric of Branchala heard other cries as gargoyles beyond the balcony replied. They honored his victory, Serene finally realized.
With a last roar, Stone hurled his foe over the rail.
The gargoyle folded his wings and turned back toward her. As he did, however, the entire citadel suddenly dipped at a steep angle. Stone took to the air, but all Serene could do was momentarily pause in her song in order to keep from falling.
Serene recovered her balance as quickly as she could, not wanting to give Valkyn any time to regain control over his creation. The cleric tried to make sense of what had happened. Surely Valkyn had not directed Atriun to turn at such an angle. Serene had expected the fortress to be buffeted by the unnatural storm, but now it flew about as if under no control whatsoever.
A second gargoyle suddenly alighted on the balcony. Stone turned to face the newcomer, his breath still rapid. The cleric feared that he would now have to do battle with a new foe, but instead the second gargoyle dropped before him, muzzle to the ground.
The newcomer said something to Stone, who growled back. The other gargoyle glanced at Serene, nodded, then flew off again.
Stone returned to her. “Castle flies to mountains … mussst come!”
She didn’t quite understand but feared to stop and ask him to explain. Stone’s claws scratched impatiently at the floor as the gargoyle sought to make himself clear. “Castle flies blind! Will strike mountains!”
Now the cleric understood. She ceased her song. “I have to find Tyros and the others before that happens.”
“No!” The gargoyle vehemently shook his head. He stretched his wings to their fullest. “Come with Stone, mistress. Now!”
“But I cannot leave the others.”
“Stone’s people will—” The gargoyle broke off, suddenly staring at the center of the room in consternation. “Come quick!”
He seized her wrist, pulling her from the bed just as a tall figure in black robes materialized at the very point where the creature had been staring. Stone tried to rush to the balcony, but the doors suddenly swung shut, sealing the pair inside.
Hissing in anger, the gargoyle quickly released her and, with a roar, leaped at the new intruder.
An ebony-gloved hand reached out, fingers twisting like claws. Stone suddenly reeled, clutching at his chest. The gargoyle stumbled back, nearly colliding with Serene.
“I see that your first lesson did not hold,” Valkyn quietly commented. “There will be no second.”
Serene tried to throw herself in front of Stone. “Valkyn, no!”
The black wizard gave a twist of his wrist.
An incredible wave of heat forced Serene away from her winged companion. She turned to see Stone howl in agony as a brilliant sunburst formed on his chest. The sunburst spread swiftly, enveloping the struggling gargoyle.
Knowing that he was lost, Stone lunged at his tormentor. However, even as his wings launched him into the air, the gargoyle simply faded, his roar cut off midway through.
Although tears streamed down Serene’s cheeks, anger had command of her now. She glared at Valkyn, wondering how she had ever thought she would love him forever. “You’ve killed him!”
“It was only a gargoyle, and not a very good one at that. Not worth any more than a kender, which is why we’re better rid of them both, my dear serenity.”
“A … a kender?” Not Rapp, too, she thought.
“Yes.” Valkyn’s tone became brusque. He stretched forth the same hand toward her, but instead of feeling tremendous heat burning her from within, the cleric found herself floating to the mage. “Now come to me. I’ve had enough of these irritations. My house must be put back in order.”
He took her wrist. Up close, Serene noticed for the first time the blood and the injury to his forehead. Someone had struck Valkyn a damaging blow. It gave her the encouragement she needed.
“I’ll go nowhere with you, you monster!” Serene murmured a prayer and had the satisfaction of seeing him release her wrist in sudden pain. The area around his hand glowed a soft emerald color.
“Damn you!” Valkyn swung his other hand at her face. The wand caught Serene across her jaw and sent the cleric reeling.
She fell to the floor, stunned. Valkyn’s menacing shadow loomed over her, a spectre of death. The glow around his other hand faded.
“What a fool I was to think so little of you,” he murmured. “The young cleric of a woodland god just returned.” The wizard’s smile had turned decidedly grim. “I thought Tyros had turned my storm against me. I never even considered you in that equation. A sloppy bit of calculation on my part.”
He pointed the wand at her. Serene noticed that it didn’t glow as strongly as it had when he had first materialized. “And so you’ll kill me now, dear Valkyn?”
“Kill you? Perhaps temper you. Bend you. Break you. Not kill you, though. You mean far too much to me.”
“Once that would have been flattering, but now I feel nothing but loathing for you.”
The dark wizard’s smile widened, never a good sign. “As if that mattered. You’re going to give me back my citadel, my dear, and you’re going to help me make it stronger, more efficient. But first you’re going to help me deal with one loose end.”
The hallway doors burst open.
Both turned as a figure clad in ragged crimson robes stalked in, a staff in one hand. Tyros looked pale and gaunt, yet still something a
bout him told Serene that the younger wizard hadn’t yet given up the fight.
“And here is that loose end even now,” mocked Valkyn. “This certainly simplifies matters.”
“Your toy crumbles around you, Valkyn,” Tyros declared. “The storm is against you, the citadel flies without control, and you have no source with which to power it. We have only a matter of time before it crashes!”
“Oh, it will fly for some time, my fellow mage. As long as the device itself remains intact, the power stored will keep Atriun flying until I find a new source … or resecure an old one.”
Tyros raised the staff. “That will not happen.”
“You found your staff? A useless little thing. I inspected it myself. You would have been better off stealing mine again. It might have availed you better … at least for a few moments.”
“You know I have more than just the staff at my command.” Tyros raised his empty fist, which briefly flared bright yellow, as if caught in the sun. “I have magic of my own.”
Valkyn chuckled. “And I have Serene, which is all that matters.”
He stretched forth his free hand, and to her horror, Serene again found herself pulled toward him. She tried to whisper a prayer, but her mouth wouldn’t work. Valkyn took hold of her, cradling her shoulders as if they were once again lovers.
“My serenity,” Valkyn whispered. He looked at his adversary. “You’ll do nothing, of course, except drop the staff and surrender. For the price of her life, you’ll give your own by returning to my device. Dear Serene will turn the storm back, so that once more it is mine to control.” He frowned. “I’ve had enough of disruptions. Gwynned would have been the test to prove the ultimate supremacy of my design, and it still will be. No army, no dragon, can face her when she is under proper control! She will be a marvel for all to admire even as they bow to her!”
The cleric shivered. Did Valkyn understand how insane he sounded?
Likely Tyros understood that, but he nonetheless obeyed the other’s commands. Dropping the staff, he held out his wrists and took a step forward. The captive mage moved with some stiffness, no doubt the results of his horrific time chained to Valkyn’s arcane device.
With the wand, Valkyn drew a circle. A ring of black crystal formed in the air, a ring that floated toward Tyros’s wrists.
Serene had to do something. She prayed silently to Branchala, asking him to do whatever he must to keep Tyros free.
At that moment, Castle Atriun suffered a tremendous shock wave, as if an earthquake had struck. Tyros fell forward, and Valkyn stumbled to the floor, his precious wand clattering away. Serene rolled toward the balcony, colliding with the doors there and ending up mere inches from the wand.
The tremor that had rattled the massive edifice to its foundation could not have been the result of a bolt of lightning or even a missile from the catapults below. Pushing open one of the balcony doors, Serene looked outside. At first she saw only the thick gray storm clouds that almost resembled rock.…
No—what the cleric saw more than resembled rock; it was rock.
Atriun had collided with a mountain.
Not exactly collided. Rather, the flying citadel had merely scraped along the side, but enough to send the entire castle into chaos. Outside, the gargoyles shrieked, their battle momentarily broken up. Beyond them, she could see that one of the outer walls had been completely demolished.
Bits of stone fell from above her, forcing Serene back inside. As she moved, her hand came to rest on the wand. She picked it up, startled that it should come so readily into her possession. For a moment, Serene contemplated trying to use it, thinking that at last she could teach Valkyn the folly of his evil.
“Give that to me.”
Valkyn rose to one knee, gloved hand outstretched. The arresting blue eyes that had once ensnared her love now sought to trap her fear. Serene, though, had gotten past her fear of Valkyn. She held the wand out as if to return it, but as the wizard stood and reached out for it, the cleric tossed the magical artifact back over her shoulder … and over the balcony railing.
Lightning flashed, illuminating the sudden fury in Valkyn’s visage. The hand snapped closed, and he looked over his shoulder at Tyros, who had managed to recover his balance. Both men might have come to grips, but again the citadel shook, a slow, grating tremor that sent furniture scattering and the very walls cracking.
“Your abomination will soon only be a memory, Valkyn,” Tyros rasped. “One better forgotten, at that!”
“Atriun is far from a jumble of broken stone at the bottom of this mountain, Tyros.” The black mage pulled his hood forward, the hood somehow larger and wider—or perhaps Valkyn somehow looked smaller. “As you shall see.”
Valkyn’s robes completely enveloped him, shrinking at the same time.
“No! Damn you!” Tyros threw the staff end first at the dwindling form, but it was too late. The ebony-clad wizard had faded away completely. The wooden stick struck the floor with a spark, then clattered for several seconds before coming to a rest.
“Twice now I’ve let him go because my reactions were too slow!” a frustrated Tyros snapped. “I will not let it happen a third time!”
“What does it matter?” Serene interjected. “Atriun is out of control. Something must have happened to the Wind Captain’s Chair or its steersman!”
He nodded, his frustration at twice failing to stop Valkyn still clear. “If something has happened to the Wind Captain’s Chair, then I would wager that Captain Bakal was involved.”
“You think he might still be alive?” After witnessing Stone’s death and learning of Rapp’s, the cleric felt fearful even asking such a question.
“Perhaps, but I can’t—” Again the flying citadel shook as it scraped along the side of the mountain. More cracks veined the walls, and a portion of the ceiling collapsed near Tyros. “Valkyn can stay with his beloved monster and die with it, but we need to escape. We need the griffons.”
Mention of the griffons stirred mixed emotions in Serene. The animals had long grown past the point of needing Rapp to survive, but how would they handle his death? The cleric knew that the depths of an animal’s emotions could be astounding. The griffons would mourn the kender just as they would those of their family that had perished in the ill-fated journey up to the citadel.
Then it occurred to her that she and Tyros faced another dilemma. Assuming that they could find the creatures, what would happen if the griffons refused her guidance and simply abandoned the two humans? Serene had never had complete command of the griffons. Taggi might obey her, but would the others?
She would just have to find out. “I think I know where they are. Valkyn said they had been put into the animal pens under the east wing of the castle. He thought the griffons might be of some use, much like the gargoyles.”
“Then we will go that direction, but it will be safer by an outside route and the pens should be easier to spot that way.”
“But what about Captain Bakal?”
Tyros considered. “If he still lives, by this time, he will no doubt be searching for the griffons, too. With the citadel uncontrolled and failing, the animals are his only chance, too.”
The cleric pictured Bakal trying to keep the griffons under rein and blanched. “We’d better get to them before he does. He’s likely to let them loose, and if he does, they might fly off, leaving all of us to perish alongside Valkyn!”
Neither Tyros nor Serene cared much for the fact that the black wizard still ran free, but Valkyn’s end appeared inevitable. With Serene leading the way, they hurried through the ominously empty corridors of the citadel. Neither shadow servants nor gargoyles were anywhere to be seen. The gargoyles were likely embroiled in battle, but surely some of the robed shadow creatures still survived. Serene clutched her medallion tightly, hoping she was prepared if she and Tyros should suddenly confront the ghoulish servants.
Twice more Castle Atriun shook as it rubbed against the peak, seemingly determined to slowly ri
p itself apart. As the pair reached the lower level and exited the main castle, they saw that the entire outer wall on that side had been reduced to rubble. The tower closest to the mountains had partially collapsed, and even the central tower showed worrisome cracks.
“Go past the garden,” Serene urged. “The pens should be that way!”
Tyros remained strangely silent as they rushed through the wooded area, but the cleric assumed that he must be considering their odds. She herself kept glancing skyward, where the storm appeared to be lessening. Now and then gargoyles locked in aerial struggle soared past, always too swift for her to determine which side had the upper hand. She prayed to the Bard King that Stone’s folk would prevail, if only for the sacrifices he had made for her.
From the wooded garden, they neared the ravaged end of the flying citadel. Serene stared at the castle with some anxiety; she hoped that no part of it had collapsed onto the pens.
Her fears seemed justified as they came across what remained of the outer corral. A portion of the exterior wall of the castle had indeed fallen onto it, crushing most of the high-fenced enclosure. Fortunately, Serene saw that the interior section still stood intact, although some rubble blocked part of the entrance. Even from this distance, the cleric could hear the roars of at least two griffons.
Near the corral, a figure rose into sight, a massive block of stone in his arms. As they watched, he hefted it to the side, then tossed it on a pile of rubble.
“Bakal!” Tyros waved as he shouted, trying to get the Ergothian’s attention.
They had to venture somewhat nearer before Captain Bakal could hear them over the storm and the griffons. When he saw them, the scarred veteran gave the pair a tired, grim smile.
“Praise be to Draco Paladin!” Bakal spouted. “I was beginning to think I was the only one left alive … and I wasn’t counting on that too much longer.” He looked past them. “What about Rapp? Where’s he?”
Tyros grimaced. “Rapp’s dead, Bakal. He died freeing me. Valkyn killed him with hardly a care.” To Serene, Tyros added, “I’m sorry … I wanted to tell you.”
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