The Citadel

Chapter 9
Storming the Castle

At dawn Castle Atriun began to move.

The first indication to those below came as the clouds shifted to the northwest, even though the wind blew in the opposite direction. Some of the storm clouds drifted off, leaving the flying citadel somewhat visible. Atriun moved faster and faster as it went, quickly leaving Norwych behind.

The ships of General Cadrio departed soon afterward, trying as best they could to keep pace. Aboard the Harpy, the commander pondered the future. He had planned to wait until after Gwynned to deal with the wizard, but now, if the gargoyle was correct, a new and better path lay open, one that would hasten the shifting of matters to a more palatable state.

“The southern shore of Northern Ergoth,” he whispered to himself. “He’ll have to do it then, before Gwynned.”

“Aaah, my general! I trust I find you in good spirits?”

Cadrio bit back his startlement and forced himself to turn slowly to the figure now standing just behind him. “Valkyn! I thought you were busy!”

“I can spare the time. I want to make certain that everything is prepared.”

With Valkyn’s back to several of Cadrio’s men, a daring notion suddenly occurred to the general, one that would make it unnecessary to wait any longer. Why trust the gargoyle when Cadrio could deal with the damned wizard now? Several times during his illustrious career the general had taken sudden initiatives like this, always with rewarding results. Surely fate now had dealt him the high card once more.

“I’ve tried to assure that everything will be ready,” the general returned, making certain to keep his gaze on the mage’s. Cadrio’s left hand slipped down, just barely grazing the hilt of his sword. The action happened so quickly Valkyn surely would not notice it, but others, trained by the commander, certainly would.

Out of the corner of his eye, General Cadrio noticed Timinion reach cautiously for his blade. Zander, too, started to reach for his weapon. Good! Both men were familiar with the signal, one that Cadrio had utilized for various reasons over the years. Rebellious officers and foolish adversaries had fallen to the swords of his men in the past, and Valkyn would be no different. How pleasant it would be to see that smile wiped off the black mage’s face.

Without the wizard, it would be child’s play to use the dragons to seize the citadel. The gargoyles would offer little resistance. Stone’s creatures would no doubt turn on their rivals. The shadowy servant he had seen in the tower had looked fairly harmless. He was simply there to obey orders.

“You gave us little time,” General Cadrio went on, never breaking eye contact, “but the ships are all in order, and we’ll be at the rendezvous soon after you.”

“I expected nothing else but timeliness from you,” Valkyn remarked, ever smiling. “I knew you would serve well.”

“Serve well? We’re allies, Valkyn.”

The dark wizard’s gloved hands formed a steeple. “Of course we are, my general, but at this juncture, one of us must guide, and since I can see the greater picture from my citadel, naturally the burden must fall to me. I leave the tactics of ground warfare to you, with only a few simple suggestions, eh?”

Timinion took a step forward, being careful to move in silence. Zander paused, his hand no longer on his sword. Cadrio understood why. Better only one assassin. Two men risked making too much noise. Besides, Timinion now stood but two or three steps from Valkyn.

“What sort of suggestions?” Cadrio asked.

“Just a few directions, a few recommendations of troop movement that I think will better your chances. I know you’ll follow them to the letter, won’t you, my general?”

Timinion stood within range. Carefully he pulled back his sword, preparing to run the insolent mage through. General Cadrio prayed that Valkyn would not move at the last moment.

“I’ll certainly look them over, Valkyn, but why-”

Timinion thrust.

The triumphant smile beginning to form on Cadrio’s face twisted into a shocked frown as not only the sword but the officer’s hand and arm went right through the wizard. Valkyn stood there, amused as Timinion followed through, the would-be assassin tumbling to the deck.

The general thought fast. “Sir Timinion! Are you mad?”

Valkyn-not the real Valkyn, apparently, but a perfectly cast illusion-smiled at Cadrio, then gave the hapless Timinion a chillier version of the same smile. “A good attempt. A foolish one, but a good attempt.”

From the folds of his robe, the illusory Valkyn pulled forth the wand with the crystalline sphere. One hand caressed the sphere, then pointed it at Timinion.

The wood beneath the soldier’s left hand suddenly softened, causing his hand to sink in a few inches. Timinion tried to pull free, but not only would the soft plank not release its hold, to Cadrio’s horror, it began to spread upward, quickly covering the officer’s wrist and continuing on.

Even as Timinion struggled with his hand, his boots, too, began to sink. The entire deck underneath the would-be assassin rippled, more like liquid than solid wood. Timinion fell back and became further mired in the horrific pool. Cadrio realized that the man was truly sinking.

Timinion realized it, too, for he looked frantically at his commander and shouted, “General! Please! In the name of the Queen!”

Cadrio opened his mouth to protest, but a simple glance from Valkyn silenced him.

“There are limits to even my vast patience,” the cowled mage announced. “And severe penalties for those who reach those limits.”

The helpless soldier reached out with his one free hand, silently beseeching someone to come to his aid. His gaze went to Zander, but although Timinion’s rival clearly would not have wished such a fate on the other officer, the latter quickly looked away.

The awful tableau continued to play itself out at the same monstrously slow pace. Timinion could barely keep his head up. All pretense of bravado had slipped away, and now he screamed for anyone to deliver him from the wizard’s punishment.

No one dared.

Cadrio studied the doomed warrior and the quagmire sucking him down, only to come to an even more terrible conclusion. He had thought that Timinion sank, but now realized that his officer was being absorbed into the deck, becoming part of it! Already the man’s complexion, even his armor, had taken on a semblance of the wooden grain.

“He will serve more efficiently this way,” the illusion declared. “As an example …”

All but Timinion’s face and his one hand had vanished. The officer’s mouth moved, but no sound, not even a gasp, escaped it. At last-and much to Cadrio’s relief-the tortured visage was completely absorbed into the wood, followed a few seconds later by the last feebly moving fingers.

Timinion’s sword rattled to the railing as a wave rocked the Harpy, but no one sought to retrieve it.

“And now, my general,” Valkyn said, once more hiding the wand. “As to those troop suggestions. I think it would be better if we spoke of them just before you reach Northern Ergoth. They’ll be fresher in your mind then. Do you agree?”

Cadrio nodded, not trusting himself to words.

“Good.” The Black Robe briefly eyed the deck where Timinion had vanished, then looked up at the general again. “A shame that these lessons must sometimes be taught.” The narrow blue eyes narrowed yet more. “I shall be going. We will talk soon.”

Valkyn disappeared, simply winking out of existence. Cadrio fell back, gripping the nearest rail. The image of what had happened to the unfortunate Timinion remained burned into his mind, yet if Valkyn thought this would keep Cadrio in line, the wizard was sorely mistaken. If anything, the general was even more determined to end this alliance.

“A few more days, spellcaster,” he muttered. “Just a few more days …” Cadrio turned to Zander and the others, who still stared at the deck. “Well? What are you gaping at? Every man to his station! All officers with me to my quarters! Now!”

The crew obeyed immediately, relieved to return to normal activities. Zander and the remaining officers waited for Cadrio, who finally released his grip on the rail and, eyes fixed on the door to his quarters, walked silently by.

* * * * *

“Tyros! Wake up! It’s leaving.” Bakal’s gruff voice shattered the peaceful slumber Tyros had finally managed to find. He blinked and realized that the sun had risen at least an hour before. “Why was I not awakened earlier?”

“Orders from the cleric,” the veteran warrior replied. “She said you needed it, but when I realized what was happening, I finally had to wake you. The citadel’s moving.”

The citadel! Tyros rose and looked up in the sky. At first he noticed nothing, but then he caught a glimpse of the castle in the midst of the darkest clouds, clouds that moved contrary to the wind.

“He said nothing about it leaving!” Tyros blurted, referring to Stone, whose story he had mentioned to the officer after his return.

“Maybe he didn’t know, or maybe he didn’t tell you the entire story.” Bakal had been vocal about his distrust of the gargoyle.

“It doesn’t matter. We have to follow.”

“Rapp has the griffons fed and ready,” Serene announced, joining them. “We can leave now, but first …” She thrust a small pouch containing fruit and nuts into his hands. “You’ll need this while we fly. I picked them myself.”

He took them with gratitude, then glanced skyward at their quarry. “It’s flying northwest. That’s the general direction of Northern Ergoth.”

“And Gwynned,” the captain pointed out.

“We’ll have to ride fast.”

More accustomed now to the griffons, the party quickly mounted. In moments, the entire band flew through the skies, carefully trailing the citadel. Tyros pondered Stone’s words and wondered just when the clouds would thin. For that matter, did he dare to still trust the leathery creature? Stone might despise his master, but how much was the gargoyle willing to risk?

“Look!” Serene called. “Cadrio’s ships are sailing.”

The spellcaster looked down to see the dark fleet heading west. They had to be sailing for the same destination as the citadel. That meant that the dragons, too, were in the air.

He doubted that he could enshroud the entire party. Tyros studied the clouds. “Serene, get us higher! Otherwise Cadrio’s dragons might see us.”

“It’ll take some time. Those clouds are high up.” The cleric signaled to Rapp, pointing at the clouds. Rapp eagerly nodded, then leaned over and talked with Taggi, who squawked once, then began to lead the others higher.

Tyros breathed a sigh of relief only when they had slipped in among the clouds. He looked down again at the tiny ships … and noticed the two black forms winging their way along the New Sea. They had just barely avoided the terrible twins.

“How close do we dare get to Atriun?” Serene asked.

“Not too near. Stone might be on our side, but we don’t know which of the other gargoyles follow him. All we can do for the moment is wait and watch.”

Yet as the day progressed and the citadel continued on over part of the mainland, not once did Tyros notice any opportunity to secretly alight on the menacing edifice. They had long ago lost sight of the New Sea, and with it not only Cadrio’s fleet but also the black dragons. That had at first encouraged the mage, until he had noticed that the gargoyles continued to patrol the outer perimeter of their home.

The griffons began to tire, but the flying castle continued on at a steady clip. Serene finally insisted they land, pointing out that they had a pretty fair idea of the citadel’s ultimate destination. “Surely he’ll have to wait for Cadrio, who will take days longer with his less direct route.”

Reluctantly Tyros agreed, and the party descended to a wooded ridge. Everyone dismounted slowly. Even Rapp needed to stretch tired muscles. Bakal worked some of his shoulder muscles, then took a sip of water. His face readily revealed his dissatisfaction with the day’s results.

“All this and nothing to show for it, and that thing is getting nearer to Gwynned! We’ve done nothing … nothing!”

“But the citadel won’t do anything until Cadrio catches up,” Serene pointed out. “It wouldn’t dare move on Gwynned before then. The dragons would take care of it as readily as they did the others.”

Tyros had been considering that. “I wonder. That has worried me for some time. You both saw what happened to Norwych.”

Bakal snorted. “Of course we did. That other citadel crashed right on top of it. Caused a lot of destruction.”

“Yes, but we also saw a lot more destruction that the citadel’s collapse could not have caused. Did you notice all the scorching throughout the city?”

“The work of the twins?” the cleric suggested.

“Perhaps to a point, but they don’t strike me as being that thorough or energetic. Several of those ruined areas had been hit by a very, very powerful force.” Tyros exhaled. “Perhaps I am just imagining things. Maybe the dragons did do it.”

Bakal crossed his arms, impatient. “If not them, then what? Did the citadel drop flaming boulders on Norwych? I’ve heard of that happening a few times, but never on a scale like you’re suggesting, mage.”

“I don’t know, Captain. All I can tell you is that whenever we get near Atriun, I sense immense power, far more magic than should be needed to make that thing fly.”

“I see.” Contrary to his words, however, Bakal clearly did not see. “Tyros, I’ve followed your plan so far because I thought it might have a chance, and parts of it still might work. But now that we’re nearly back home, I’ve a suggestion of my own.”

“What is it, Captain?”

“They’re heading for Gwynned, no doubt about it. My first loyalty is to the city. Since Cadrio has to take the sea route, we’ve a chance to deal with this flying monstrosity before it can link up with him again. That’s why, with the permission of Serene and Rapp, I want to take the fastest griffon, and the kender to guide him, and fly back to Gwynned. Once there, I’ll go to Sunfire and Glisten. We all know why they wouldn’t come with us before, but now the enemy’s coming to them. This threatens their future, too. And with them on our side, we’ll be able to bring down the citadel with little or no trouble.”

“But what about those aboard?” Serene demanded. “What about possible prisoners? If the dragons are forced to destroy the citadel, then they’ll perish!”

The captain shrugged. “I doubt there’s much hope there anyway. Besides, girl, more than a handful might die if we don’t at least deprive the invaders of this fortress. Probably a regiment of draconians aboard her at the very least, not to mention those gargoyles. I’d like to bring the citadel back as a prize, but as that probably won’t happen, better we send it to the ground here rather than over Gwynned.”

“You can’t do that!” the cleric protested.

“You think there’s actually a chance that your man’s still alive? Don’t be a-”

“Let him go get Sunfire, Serene,” Tyros interjected. “But only if he and the dragons give us a chance to try to take Atriun before they destroy it.”

Bakal shook his head. “That’d be madness, mage. You’ll just get you and the girl killed!”

“No … I think he’s right!” The cleric met Bakal’s gaze, forcing him to look away first. “If Rapp agrees to go with you, I won’t raise any objections, but only if you do as Tyros says.”

Seeing he had no choice, the captain agreed. “But I think you’re both throwing away your lives!”

Rapp, of course, had no objections about seeking Sunfire and Glisten. “Maybe they’ll even let me fly on top of one of them, although they certainly can’t be as comfortable as Taggi!”

Bakal nodded grimly. “It’s settled, then. Let’s be off, kender.”

“We’ll follow the citadel, but we’ll wait until we see you to approach it,” Tyros added. He had little doubt that Bakal would convince the dragons to come despite the eggs. By destroying the approaching citadel, they would be defending their own home and future children.

“When we come, we’ll be charging in, mage. Rapp, will your animals continue to carry my men without you around?” The kender bobbed his head and tried to reply, but the officer, obviously impatient to start back, quickly cut him off. “Good! Then there’s no more time to waste!”

Rapp and Bakal took off on Taggi a few minutes later, but not before the captain had given orders to his men that they were to mount up at first light. Everyone had to be within range and ready the moment the dragons appeared, for certainly those within the flying citadel would see the great leviathans as well.

Captain Bakal had said little to Tyros and even less to Serene, who clearly still did not like the veteran’s plan. After the officer’s departure, the mage found himself alone, the soldiers busy making their camp, and the cleric, her mood solemn, wandering off into the woods. Tyros thought of going after Serene and talking with her, but then recalled what had happened last time he had done so. Instead, he settled down against a tree and tried to concentrate on the spells he would need for tomorrow.

They would have to be his best, for Tyros suspected that matters would not go as simply as Bakal assumed. This citadel was different from its predecessors. It held some secret, one that Tyros hoped the morrow’s events would help him uncover … and one that he hoped would not mean the death of him and his companions.

* * * * *

“There it is!” Serene shouted.

They watched Castle Atriun as it neared the western coast of the mainland. Tyros hadn’t expected to catch up to it until they were over the sea, but to his good fortune, those in control must have caused it to pause overnight. It seemed that Serene had been correct about those in the citadel not wanting to reach Northern Ergoth’s southern coast until Cadrio had also arrived.

“I don’t see any sign of Bakal or the dragons,” Tyros shouted back.

“They’ll be here soon, unless he couldn’t convince them after all.”

The anxious spellcaster doubted that. An invading citadel would certainly draw the dragons. Captain Bakal would be here, but when remained the question. Tyros had expected the veteran to be here already, the wizard having estimated the time needed to fly to Gwynned, convince the golden pair of the necessity of their presence, and then fly back with them. If anything, he had almost expected Bakal to be impatiently waiting for them.

Hoping to keep them out of sight of the citadel, Serene had the griffon descend. However, as the animal obeyed, the wizard caught sight of something on the western horizon. “Wait!”

“What is it, Tyros?”

“Look there! I think I see them!”

She peered in the direction he indicated. “That’s a gull or a-”

“It’s them!” he insisted. “Look! There are two large forms! It has to be Sunfire and his mate!”

Serene finally agreed, but reminded him, “If we can see them coming, then those in Castle Atriun ought to see them soon, too.”

“I know. We have to be ready.”

Serene steered their griffon back to the others, seeking out the most senior of Bakal’s soldiers, a tall, muscular man named Mirko. Tyros had learned little about him, save that he seemed to give the orders when the captain could not.

“What’s happening?” Mirko called. Like the rest, he shared a griffon with another soldier, in this case a very pale soldier.

“The dragons are coming,” Serene responded.

“The captain must be with them.” The soldier stared in the direction of the golden behemoths. “We need to join him!”

“You’d better go now, then!”

Serene had shown the men how to steer the griffons, knowing that they couldn’t always rely on either her or Rapp. Mirko touched his mount’s left shoulder, causing the beast to turn. The other soldiers followed.

“They’ll make it to Bakal,” Tyros’s companion assured him. “See there? That speck? That has to be Rapp on Taggi! The other griffons will see them soon and head straight toward them!”

Their own mount wanted to follow the rest, but Serene whispered in his ear and the griffon calmed.

At that moment, Atriun began to move … but not toward the dragons.

The two stared. Serene finally blurted, “Tyros! It’s coming after us!”

The flying citadel did not turn to face them, but rather simply floated sideways in their direction. Its cloud shawl grew thicker and darker as it neared, and the wind picked up.

Tyros felt his hair rise as energy, both natural and magical, filled the air. Thunder rumbled as the dark fortress edged nearer. Winged forms rose from its battlements, racing toward the pair.

“Get us down! Down!”

Tyros had thought that they were a safe distance away, but either the eyes of those aboard Atriun were sharper than he had imagined, or the citadel had spells of detection much more sensitive than any he could cast. Either way, they were now the target of a hunt.

He leaned toward Serene. “Turn the griffon around! Head back the way we came!”

The citadel increased its speed, closing in on the pair. Gargoyles flew from its battlements, racing ahead of the massive castle. Someone in Atriun considered the pair an important target, possibly because of Tyros’s presence.

Despite the animal’s swiftness, the gargoyles drew nearer. Tyros thought these were more savage in appearance than Stone. He stared at the foremost of them, concentrating and muttering. With these creatures, Tyros dared not hold back his spells.

A loop of red light snared the leading gargoyle, binding both his wings and arms. Startled, the monster had time only for a growl before plummeting.

To the mage’s surprise, a burst of multicolored light flashed before the eyes of the next gargoyles. Two collided, sending them spiraling out of control. Three more fluttered about blindly, trying to regain their sight.

“Praise the Bard King!” Serene gasped. “I didn’t know how well that would work up here, away from the strength of the forest!”

Despite both their successes, they were quickly losing the race. Already Castle Atriun loomed near. This close, Tyros could even make out a shadowy figure in the uppermost tower, an almost ethereal form clad in dark robes. Something about that figure made him shiver, even though he also felt with certainty that it could not be the mage who controlled the fortress.

And then, when it seemed Tyros and Serene must be captured, the dragons arrived.

Sunfire came first. Roaring loudly, he soared through the ranks of gargoyles, sending them scattering in every direction. Tyros noticed a human figure atop the male-Captain Bakal. The pair rose up in the air. This time Sunfire appeared ready to wreak havoc on the castle.

Glisten, riderless, came up behind her mate. She appeared slimmer, sleeker. Much sleeker, in fact, than when the wizard had last seen her.

The dragon had laid her eggs and now flew here in order to protect them. Glisten knew that if the citadel reached Gwynned, her young would be at risk.

The female gold dived underneath Atriun, scraping the bottom of the island upon which the castle stood. The entire citadel rocked as parts of its underbelly crumbled away.

With the gargoyles in disarray and the citadel under assault, Tyros’s thoughts turned to his original plan. “This is our chance to get aboard! Head toward the uppermost tower of the castle!”

“In all this chaos? It’s too dangerous!”

He hated to manipulate the cleric, but nonetheless he did. “It may be the only opportunity to save the ones we seek, Serene!”

Her face paled. The cleric did not respond to him. Instead, she whispered something to the griffon, who banked and headed toward the flying citadel.

The clouds still had not thinned out; if anything, they grew thicker and more foreboding. Not only did it thunder, but lightning flashes cut across the sky. A bolt darted past them, striking the distant ground.

“If the storm gets worse, we may have to turn back, Tyros!”

The wind howled, but so far little rain had come down. The wind made for tougher going for the griffon but did nothing to slow the dragons, who circled the floating edifice once before diving down to begin their assault.

Sunfire opened his mouth, and a stream of fire struck the battlements, ripping apart one section. A few gargoyles scattered from there, one in flames. Still the citadel did nothing to repulse the attacks, which mystified the mage. He had expected it to be more powerful than its predecessors, able to at least attempt to defend itself against the dragons. As they neared the towers, Tyros almost felt disappointed. Other than the gargoyles, the flying citadel had unleashed nothing against them.

Had he been wrong about the magic he sensed?

The griffon flew past the first tower, heading toward the one where Tyros expected to find the Wind Captain’s Chair. If Serene could get him close enough, he would somehow enter.

They passed over a courtyard, complete with outer buildings and an immense wooded garden. An entire army could live in Atriun, almost unaware that they flew over the world. Yet so far Tyros had seen little sign of life other than the gargoyles, who had by this time abandoned the walls. The wizard could scarcely believe his good fortune. If the citadel was all but abandoned, he might reach the tower with no trouble whatsoever.

A flock of gargoyles burst from the treetops.

“Up!” the mage cried. “Bring us up!”

Too late. Tyros managed a spell that sent a pair of the horned beasts crashing against a stone wall, but then a swarm of gargoyles was upon them. Claws grabbed for his arms, legs, robe, anything they could get a hold on.

Serene sang out, her words lost to the wind.

The branches of the tallest trees rose up in response to her prayer, growing until they were able to entangle the attackers.

The griffon brought them out of range of the furious creatures. Gasping, Serene slumped against Tyros, her incantation evidently having taken much out of her.

A horrific crash of thunder shook them. Lightning illuminated everything, stunning the humans and their mount. A dragon’s roar of pain echoed in the sky.

Sunfire flew haphazardly about, trying to stay aloft with only one wing. Little of the other wing remained. Most of the membrane had been burned away, and even some of the limb was smoldering.

Of Sunfire’s rider, Captain Bakal, they could see no sign.

Tyros swallowed, thinking of the officer. He had come to like the man more than he would have admitted.

At that moment, a bolt of lightning struck one of the other griffons, killing both riders and mount and sending the corpses plunging earthward. The rest of the animals darted off in near panic, the men aboard frantically holding on.

Another bolt shot forth from the black clouds. If Sunfire had not dipped suddenly, the male surely would have been killed this time.

The mage shook his head, trying not to believe it. The lightning was no coincidence. Castle Atriun was using it to slaughter Tyros’s allies.

Glisten abandoned her attack to come to the aid of her mate. She swept away a band of gargoyles seeking to rend his good wing and took hold of her beloved, pulling him up and farther away from the citadel.

She wasn’t swift enough.

The full fury of the storm assailed the dragons. The sky grew blinding as bolt after bolt raged down on the leviathans. Sunfire roared in agony, his tail half burned away. Glisten, seeking to protect him, took the brunt of the strikes. Four bolts caught her in rapid succession, literally setting her ablaze.

She lost her grip on her mate. Unable to keep aloft any longer, Sunfire spiraled westward toward the open sea. He continued to flap one wing, trying to slow his deadly descent.

An anguished cry tore Tyros’s gaze from the male. Glisten, somehow still aloft after such terrible wounds, forced herself toward Atriun.

“She can barely fly!” Serene called. “Why doesn’t she turn?”

“She means to take the citadel with her,” Tyros replied soberly. Glisten wouldn’t survive her deadly wounds.

Even that heroic effort was denied the brave dragon, for again a rapid succession of bolts caught Glisten. The gold leviathan’s form radiated as energy from the sorcerous lightning consumed her.

Glisten let loose with one last pathetic roar … and burned away without a trace.

Serene clutched Tyros tightly. “By the Bard King, no! It can’t be!”

But it was. Not a trace remained of the valiant creature.

Tearing his gaze away from Glisten’s fate, Tyros searched for her mate. Unfortunately no sign could be seen of Sunfire save for a vast ripple just offshore. Tyros thought of the eggs, now left to the elements. There would be no new golden dragons born in the mountains near Gwynned.

Overwhelmed by the likely loss of both dragons, the pair failed to notice the return of the gargoyles. Only when their griffon emitted a leonine roar did Tyros and Serene realize the imminent danger.

The animal swatted at the nearest of the leathery monsters, ripping it open. This sent the gargoyles backing off, which gave the mage a moment to think.

Tyros looked at the central tower. “Get me there, to the tower! It controls the flight of the citadel!”

Charging past several startled gargoyles, the griffon maneuvered close to the windows of the tower. The robed figure within, surely the pilot, paid no mind to their nearby presence.

Unwilling to question such luck, the desperate wizard whispered a spell. Suddenly he began to rise from the griffon’s back.

“Tyros! What’s happening to you?”

“I’ve cast a spell! Our only chance is to get inside the tower, but I can only do one person! As soon as I get inside, I’ll bring you with a different spell!”

She said something, but the griffon’s call drowned out her words. Tyros floated free just as a gargoyle made a grab for his robe. The monster went flying past.

For a few moments, the red-robed wizard flew. His only weapon other than the dagger in his belt remained the small staff, but although he still should have been enough of a threat for the hooded figure to take notice of, the latter did not turn from his duties. Even when Tyros took hold of the edge of the open window and pulled himself half inside, the pilot did not look.

For the first time, Tyros saw the Wind Captain’s Chair … but not exactly as he had always imagined it. The rune-etched pedestals were there, and so were the circles of dark ebony crystal upon which the feet were placed, but the spheres atop the pedestals were a blinding gold, not black like the circles. They had always been of the same stone in the past. The golden spheres were not only half again as big as their dark predecessors, but even from where he was the mage could sense the tremendous power radiating from them.

Then the shadowy figure shifted, gazing at the intruder from within the folds of his robe, and Tyros realized with horror the reason why the pilot had made no move toward him.

He was part of the mechanism.

The hands and feet melded into the spheres and circles, so that one could not tell where the man ended and the arcane device began. Even had the shrouded figure desired to defend the chamber, he would have been unable to do so. Tyros tried to imagine the sort of mage who would cast such a spell, even among the followers of Nuitari.

The pilot made an adjustment, and as he did, his hood fell back slightly, revealing a more terrible horror. The pale visage, the eyes all white, the ghostly blur of the body shook the desperate mage to the core. What flew the citadel not only did not live, but what life had once been there had been ripped away in some monstrous manner.

Frozen by the dreadful tableau, Tyros stared at that face. He knew it, knew it from Gwynned.

“Kendilious …” he whispered in abject fear.

Clawed hands seized Tyros from behind, tearing him free of the tower. His shock at seeing the old Red Robe from Gwynned had cost him precious moments. He tried to struggle, but now two gargoyles had hold of him. Tyros heard Serene scream but could not even turn his head to see what fate befell her.

The sinister pair held the captive wizard tight as a third, larger gargoyle approached him. Three savage horns topped the newcomer’s nightmarish head. The leathery beast opened wide his jaws, then raised one hand high with the obvious intent of tearing the human’s chest open.

A slightly smaller gargoyle suddenly appeared from above and seized the upraised hand. He and the larger gargoyle glared at one another, nearly coming to blows.

“Master wants!” the latest growled. “Must be taken to Master!”

With a snarl, the three-horned gargoyle pulled free his hand. He glared at Tyros, then reluctantly rumbled, “Take to Maaaster!”

The pair holding Tyros whipped the stunned wizard away, descending toward the main entrance of the castle. Tyros stared in the direction of the tower for as long as possible, but his thoughts were not on the ill-fated Kendilious, nor even Serene. Instead, they focused on the gargoyle who had saved him from immediate death but who might have condemned him to the same terrible fate as the old mage had suffered.

Whose side was Stone truly on?