The Citadel

by Knaak, Richard

  “You didn’t have to. Valkyn himself had the honor of that.”

  A stony expression passed over the soldier’s weathered features. “And I was just starting to like the little thief.…”

  “Where are your men?”

  A deeper darkness spread. “Dead. The last two were butchered by the wizard’s gargoyle. I had to run from the beast before, but if I could just get him at a sword’s point, I—”

  “Crag’s dead,” Serene interjected, picking up a rock. “Stone killed him to save me … and then Valkyn killed Stone.”

  “That damned wizard—no offense, Tyros—needs to be strung up! At least General Cadrio’s dead! I had that pleasure myself, up by the Wind Captain’s Chair. He fell out a window while we were fighting.” The captain shook his head. “Sorry to say, though, we ruined the steering mechanism during the struggle. I thought we were going to smash to pieces when we first hit that mountainside. This citadel’s built to last.”

  “Not for much longer,” Tyros informed him. “Valkyn has neither control of its flight nor the power to keep the citadel aloft much more. The storm’s already abating. We need to get the griffons out and pray they will fly us to the ground!”

  As they talked, Serene touched the gate leading to the griffons. She could hear the animals within, pleading to be let out. The cleric could feel their claustrophobia, their fear. Would they even acknowledge her? “If I can get inside, perhaps I can convince them to aid us.”

  “Let me help.” Tyros inspected the lock. The cleric watched him, momentarily wishing that one of them had Rapp’s skill with such things.

  Raising the staff high, the wizard brought the tip down hard on the lock. Emerald sparks flared. The gate flung open, nearly striking the ragged spellcaster.

  “That will do,” Serene said.

  She entered the animal pens, marveling at their immense size. The Solamnic lord must have kept enough livestock to survive a year-long siege.

  One of the griffons noted her presence and squawked. The gargoyles had packed the forlorn animals in two of the mailer pens, giving the them practically no room to spread their wings. They looked up at the cleric as she neared, eyes wary and somewhat untrusting.

  “Hush, children,” she cooed. “It’s only me. You remember Serene, don’t you? Serene, who has always tended to your wounds and scratched your heads?”

  Some of the uncertainty dwindled. The largest of the surviving griffons shoved his way forward.

  “And there’s Taggi, first as usual.” Coming up to the pen, she held out a hand. The griffon thrust his beak forward, smelling her. His eyes softened and he pushed his head near enough to have it scratched. “That’s right …”

  Her eyes more accustomed to the gloom, she could see that the creatures had been treated badly. Several had wounds and tufts of fur and feather missing. One animal lay in the back of a cage, unmoving. The cleric muttered an epithet, hoping that the griffons had been able to make some of their captors pay in kind.

  “Don’t you worry, now,” she whispered soothingly. “I’ll get you out of here.”

  She located the keys on a peg nearby, then quickly opened both cages. The cleric had to keep Taggi and the others from nearly bowling her over in their eagerness to be free. Serene immediately confronted the lead griffon, staring at him in the manner Rapp had whenever he had needed to tell the creature something important. How much Taggi understood, Serene couldn’t say. Certainly the kender had always managed to get through.

  “Listen to me, Taggi. You know I’m Rapp’s friend, right?”

  She nearly made a mistake mentioning the kender. Immediately the griffons looked around, seeking their friend. Serene had to work hard to regain Taggi’s attention.

  How had Rapp sometimes accomplished the matter? “Taggi? Do you want to go for a ride?”

  Taggi blinked, then stretched his wings slightly. He gazed at Serene, as if expecting some response. She, in turn, smiled, recognizing the sign that Rapp had always received when he talked to them about taking him and his friends on a journey.

  “Yes, Taggi! That’s it. A ride!”

  The griffons suddenly surged forward. Taggi moved to her side, trotting along with her as they left the confines of the animal pens. Serene had the pleasure of seeing the disconcerted expressions of her two companions.

  “Was there ever a doubt?” she jested.

  “No,” returned Tyros, staring gravely in her eyes. “Just some fear.”

  Serene felt her face flush. She quickly turned from the tall wizard and bent down to speak with Taggi. “Now, you be gentle with these two men. They’re friends of mine … and Rapp’s.”

  Taggi squawked, then rubbed his beak on her side. She smiled and scratched his head for a moment.

  A violent tremor ripped through the flying citadel.

  Captain Bakal fell to his knees. Tyros used his staff to maintain his balance, but the wizard’s face had turned ashen. Serene clutched Taggi, wondering what had happened now.

  Jagged fissures appeared in the ground, some of them so near that a few of the griffons had to momentarily take to the air to avoid falling in. With a rumble, the ceiling of the chamber from which the cleric had led the animals collapsed, a cloud of dust and dirt emphasizing the totality of its destruction.

  Atriun began drifting away from the mountains.

  Serene felt a sense of foreboding. “What’s going on?”

  “The citadel is moving,” a pale Tyros managed.

  “Of course, but—”

  “No …” He shook his head. “It is moving with purpose. Its course is steady and strong. Atriun’s heading back in the direction of the battle.”

  Bakal looked at him close. “Are you saying—”

  “Yes. I don’t know how, but Valkyn once again has control of the flying citadel.”

  Chapter 19

  Bedlam in the Sky

  “I want to go back!” Eclipse roared, still sulking. He would have beaten the gold dragon. Never mind that Sunfire had already been crippled before this day, and that the human atop the black had been the reason for any major successes. Eclipse felt that the victory would belong to him. He needed a victory. His mind was still fragile from the loss of his twin.

  “The gold can wait!” Zander snapped. He had far too many other problems to concern himself with besides the whining of his mount. The other dragon would go nowhere. What concerned the young commander more had to do with his forces, which had become hard-pressed to maintain their ground, much less advance.

  What had happened to the wizard’s castle? Everything had been going well until the storm had abruptly turned against them. Then, to Zander’s horror, Atriun had flown off. The last he had seen of it, it had been heading for the nearest mountains.

  There had been no word from General Cadrio or, more to the point, from Valkyn. If something had happened to both of them, then everything was lost. Zander now regretted not having abandoned Cadrio and seeking out the Blue Lady. They said she could reward a good officer in many ways and, despite the chaos below, he still felt himself the best.

  Zander had forced Eclipse up into the sky the moment the citadel had fled. He no longer cared about Valkyn’s battle plan; if his men were to survive, he had to pull them together. With the aid of the black dragon, Zander had managed to keep them from routing, but the Ergothians had strong leaders of their own, and despite the threat of dragonfear or acid, the defenders began pushing forward.

  The surviving catapults had repositioned themselves and now once again bombarded his ranks. Using Eclipse, Zander had disposed of two of the pesky machines, but he and the dragon had nearly suffered a direct hit. At the same time, the young commander had trouble trying to keep the rest of his forces under control. If Zander concentrated on the catapults, the Ergothian cavalry and foot soldiers tore through his front lines.

  Things were falling apart, and even he could not put them back together without help.

  “Where are you, General?” the young officer mu
ttered. “And where are you, wizard? If one of you would just tell me what’s going on, I’d be forever grateful.”

  “Aaah, there you are, General Zander.”

  Eclipse let out the nearest thing to a squawk that Zander had ever heard a dragon utter. He himself barely kept his expression in check, for in front of the pair, heedless of the lack of earth beneath his feet, stood Valkyn. Even though Zander knew that he faced an illusion, the cowled figure looked so real he expected the wizard to plummet to his death at any moment.

  “What’s happening, Master Valkyn? The citadel—”

  The unnerving smile spread, although something about it seemed weary. “Atriun is on its way back. There have been some minor disruptions, but I have dealt with all save one.” The sky blue eyes grew chilling. “And that one will be dealt with very, very soon.”

  A wave of relief washed over Zander. “And the battle?”

  “My commendations on that, General. Excellent strategy under unexpected pressure. Maintain your actions. I will be with you shortly.”

  “Yes, Master Valkyn!”

  The image vanished, and only then did Zander realize that the mage had called him general. So much, then, for Cadrio. Zander smiled. A field promotion.

  “I see it!” Eclipse roared. “The wizard’s castle comes!”

  Indeed it did, but even from far away, Zander noted the differences. Atriun had been heavily damaged on one side. One of its towers was in ruins. Gazing at the mountains from which the citadel had come, the new general suspected that he knew exactly what had caused such terrible destruction.

  Yet despite the damage, the castle still flew. Only a few ominous clouds drifted along with Valkyn’s creation, but Zander supposed that the wizard conserved his magic for the actual battle.

  “General Zander.”

  This time he couldn’t hide his startlement. He hadn’t expected to hear from the black mage until later in the battle. He saluted. “Master Valkyn! You’ve need of something?”

  Valkyn did not smile. What that meant, the soldier did not want to know. “A change of plans. I’ve immediate need of you and your beast, my general. There are some gnats about to leave my citadel … a woman and two—no, I suspect only one man! Slay the man and as many of the griffons as you need to, but capture the woman and bring her back to me.”

  Zander hated to leave his forces at such a crucial point, but when Valkyn spoke, it paid to obey. “As you command!”

  Again the illusion vanished. Fearful of the wizard, Eclipse had already begun to bank toward Castle Atriun. Zander leaned forward, searching for griffons. He would find them. Valkyn would be proud of him.

  General Zander …

  * * * * *

  Tyros stared up in the direction of the Wind Captain’s Chair, then at his companions. At last he came to a decision, one not at all to his liking but necessary.

  “Serene, Bakal, take the griffons and leave the citadel.”

  They both looked at him as if he had gone mad.

  “There’s no more reason to stay here, boy! This castle’s going to come crashing down!”

  Serene stepped up to him. “Do you think I’ll leave you here alone, knowing what’s happened to Rapp and Stone? If you’re going to face Valkyn, I’ll be at your side.”

  “Listen to me.” He softly put a hand on Serene’s shoulder, but his gaze shifted between them. “Valkyn has the citadel under some control, but unless he has something in mind I don’t know of, he cannot possibly keep it from crashing. I’m afraid he might try to drop it on your people, Bakal.”

  “Then more the reason I should be going after him, not you!” the captain snarled.

  “He still wields magic. Besides, the two of you have to warn Gwynned. They might be able to do something if I fail.”

  The cleric frowned. “I can see Bakal going to warn them, but I should stay with you!”

  “No. Valkyn won’t hesitate to kill even you. He might delay with me, though.” Although Tyros didn’t explain his last statement, they all knew what he meant. Valkyn likely still hoped to return his rival to the columns. “They’ll need your help down there as a cleric, Serene. With so few healers of Mishakal about, the Bard King might be able to lend a hand.”

  She couldn’t argue with that. While Mishakal held province over healing, even Serene could achieve some success through her god. Still, she wouldn’t give up on one subject. “And what if you defeat Valkyn? How will you get off of Atriun?”

  He had no answer for that.

  Bakal joined in. “We’ll go, Tyros, but we won’t leave the area immediately. If it looks like Atriun’s on its way to Gwynned, we’ll fly off. But if there’s a chance you’re alive and need help, we’ll be there!”

  The mage sighed. “Then at least go now. Time is wasting!”

  Serene turned and whispered something to Taggi and one of the other griffons. Bakal mounted, but before the cleric did, she suddenly rushed back to Tyros and, standing on her toes, kissed him on the cheek. Her face crimson, Serene then hurried to Taggi.

  His own face feeling flushed, Tyros waved in silence as his companions flew off, then, steeling his resolve, he turned and headed back into Atriun. There was only one place Valkyn might be at this point. With the Wind Captain’s Chair destroyed, Atriun’s master surely had to have gone to the chamber housing the massive crystals. Only from there could he have possibly regained control.

  Those who had known Tyros in the past might have thought that he had sent the others off in order to reap the glories himself. They couldn’t have been more mistaken. The events since the first attack on Gwynned had marked Tyros, opening up a part of him that he had kept locked away. He knew the danger of confronting Valkyn and intended that he face that danger alone. Leot, Rapp, and even Stone had perished at the hands of the black mage, and Tyros didn’t want to lose his two remaining friends … especially Serene. Even if it meant sacrificing himself, he was determined to bring down his counterpart.

  And in the chamber where he had been so recently chained to Valkyn’s device, Tyros found the black wizard waiting for him.

  “I knew you’d return,” the goateed figure commented, smile in place. He stood in front of one of the columns, gloved hands crossed in front of him. “We really do think much alike.”

  “Forgive me if I do not take that as a compliment.”

  “Atriun is once more under my command. Gwynned will be crushed, and my name will go down as one of the greatest wizards of this monumental era.”

  The man had no compassion, no care whatsoever for others. All Valkyn concerned himself with was his magic and what he could do with it. Other lives did not matter. Valkyn would try to conquer the world not for the reasons that Ariakas had, but rather just so he could continue his monstrous experiments on a grander scale. In some ways, the world Ariakas had sought to create for his goddess would have been a blessing instead of the laboratory that the mad mage desired.

  Of course, the more likely future for Valkyn would be that eventually his citadel would succumb to the might of his myriad foes, but how many more innocents would have to die before then?

  “Atriun is crumbling, dying,” Tyros countered. “Control of its flight will mean nothing when it falls from the sky.”

  The gloved hands came up, spreading in opposite directions and making Valkyn look like a scholar attempting to teach a reticent student. “But it will not fall! It will fly, and the storm will cover the heavens once again … now that you’re here.”

  A sense of unease swept over Tyros, and he suddenly threw himself away from the doors.

  Two fearsome forms dropped from the ceiling, nearly landing upon him with their sharp claws. Tyros rolled against a wall and then scrambled to his feet.

  A pair of huge gargoyles, ember eyes flaring and jaws open wide, closed in on him. Tyros sensed something amiss about them. They not only stood taller than any of the gargoyles he had seen, but Tyros felt a strong current of magic around each.

  The smiling mage extende
d a hand toward his demonic device. “Your place of honor awaits you again. I knew you couldn’t resist coming, so I made certain that things would be fully prepared for you.”

  The columns had been partially repaired, and new runes of power had been etched in by magic, albeit clearly hastily. Worse yet, new chains had been set into place, this time chains that glowed from base to manacle. No simple blows from an axe or sword would free Tyros if Valkyn managed to secure him there again.

  “Never again, Valkyn,” Tyros retorted, his staff held before him, “but I would be glad to let you take my place if you like.”

  One of the gargoyles lunged. Tyros held up the staff and muttered words that would unleash one of the few spells with which he had been able to imbue it back in Gwynned. It wouldn’t kill the monster, but a sleeping gargoyle could do him no harm.

  Only the gargoyle did not drop. Briefly he shimmered, but that was all.

  Desperate, the wizard raised the point of his staff just as the gargoyle closed in on him. The point caught his attacker at the lower edge of the throat.

  The monster collapsed, holding his throat and fighting for air. However, by then the second had also leaped forward. As he flew at Tyros, his claws grew longer, sharper, distorting into nightmarish sickles that threatened to cut the mage to ribbons.

  Valkyn had enchanted the creatures, adding to their inherent magic. Small wonder he expected Tyros to fall. Yet despite their new and fearsome abilities, Tyros realized that he had one great advantage. Their master needed him alive. That meant the gargoyles had to move with caution … which opened them up to all sorts of weaknesses.

  The macabre claws came within an inch of his face, but by then Tyros had a counterattack in motion. He muttered the words of a spell he had found useful in the days of the war, one that he had hoped to save for Valkyn but needed now.

  A moist cloud, looking vaguely like cotton, formed around the oncoming monster. The gargoyle slashed, but the cloud immediately reformed where he had cut. At the same time, it continued to grow thicker, obscuring his vision.