The Citadel Page 13

  “Above us!” Serene whispered in his ear. “A dragon!”

  A savage black giant flew a few hundred feet above them, surveying the landscape. To their horror, a second monstrosity dropped from the clouds to join the first.

  The terrible twins looked left and right, their draconian orbs searching below. Sooner or later one of the beasts would look their direction. Tyros quickly searched his memory for a spell that would help his party but could think of very few. However, one gave him some hope. He began running through it in his mind.

  “We’ll have to out race them,” Serene insisted.

  “No! Give me one more moment.”

  With their far greater wingspan, the dragons readily cut the gap between themselves and the mage’s party. The nearer they drew, the more anxious Tyros became. If either beast noticed them, he and his companions were as good as dead. Neither Tyros nor Serene had the power to drive off the pair, and the griffons could certainly not outpace them for long.

  Tyros uttered the spell.

  For anyone in his party, the only sensation of change would be a slight tingle. For the dragons, however, the spell would do much more.

  One of the ebony dragons raised his head, sniffing. He gazed directly at the mage and cleric. “I smell humans!”

  The second lifted his face up to test the air. “I smell nothing!”

  “There are humans near,” said the first, but his gaze turned away from Tyros and the others.

  “Humans do not fly,” pointed out the other.

  Both warily eyed the sky. To Tyros’s relief, they now looked away from the griffons’ positions. Yet, still the dragons did not move on.

  “We are up high,” the first mused.

  “And as I said, humans do not fly,” added the second.

  This frustrated his brother. “But I still smell them!”

  He turned his head abruptly, gazing almost directly at Tyros and Serene. The black dragon’s nostrils flared, and he looked ready to charge forward, possibly discovering the intruders by literally running them down.

  A horn sounded in the distance.

  Both beasts hesitated. The second twin twisted his head around, listening as the sound repeated. “Cadrio summons us!”

  The first appeared reluctant to go. “I smell them near!”

  “Cadrio summons! Come!”

  Exasperated, the first twin finally gave in, turning in unison with his brother and heading in the direction of the port. Tyros watched them dwindle in the distance, then breathed a sigh of relief.

  “That was too close!” Serene gasped.

  The mage couldn’t reply, more surprised by his success than he dared let her know.

  Bakal and Rapp came up beside them. “You cast some sort of spell,” the captain shouted. “What was it?”

  “A cloak of invisibility. I was afraid it wouldn’t be strong enough, stretched as it was over such a distance, but it worked. It won’t last much longer, though.”

  “Then we’d best be getting back to the others.”

  Encouraged to greater swiftness because of this near disaster, the griffons returned quickly to the waiting soldiers. Tyros’s spell faded as the animals descended, startling both Bakal’s men and the remaining beasts. The other griffons grew excited at Rapp’s return. The kender leaped off his mount, hugged each in turn, then he went around and tried to hug everyone else. While Serene accepted gladly and the mage with some trepidation, neither the captain nor the others would let the small figure near.

  Tyros checked his pockets and, after retrieving a couple of items from Rapp, gathered the rest of the party together. With the help of Bakal, Serene, and even the kender, he related all that they had seen, especially the second citadel. The soldiers listened in silence, never betraying fear. Bakal had chosen well.

  “The only question now,” the captain said, “is what we do about that thing. This is more than I expected. It might be best if we turn back and warn Gwynned instead of trying something foolish.”

  “You can go back if you want,” Serene interjected, “but I’ve got to go on.”

  “You can’t go alone, girl!”

  “She will not be alone.” Tyros looked at Serene. He admired her determination. Tyros found himself envying the wizard who had won her heart. Perhaps if they had met at a different time, Tyros might have had the chance to know her better. “I will be going with her.”

  “The two of you are daft, you know that?” Bakal rubbed his chin, thinking. “ ’Course, we’ve come this far, and one citadel’s not much different from another.…” He eyed them both. “All right. Let’s sleep on this. Tomorrow morning, when things are clearer, we’ll settle on what to do.”

  The captain’s words cheered Tyros. Bakal would come with them tomorrow, of that he was certain. Despite the fact that he knew the veteran soldier’s intentions did not completely coincide with his own, having Bakal on his side strengthened the wizard’s own resolve.

  The party began to settle down for the night. At one end of the camp, the griffons huddled together, Rapp in their midst. Tyros considered his own choice for a moment, then located a secluded area on the end opposite the griffons.

  Serene started for the woods. “Good night, Tyros.”

  “It would be safer near the rest of us.”

  She smiled, suddenly even more beautiful. “The forest will watch over me, but thank you for your concern.”

  He watched her vanish between the trees, feeling a sudden pang of jealousy. A black thought blossomed. Perhaps if the one she sought had been killed, she might find some interest in Tyros. A moment later, he berated himself for such a foul notion.

  Visions of the new citadel drifted through his mind as the tired mage slipped off into slumber. Even from a distance, he had been able to tell that, despite Bakal’s opinion, it resembled its predecessors only in superficial terms. A sense of tremendous power radiated from Castle Atriun, as if its creators had found a way to harness magic on a grand scale. Even the storm clouds surrounding it appeared charged with magic.

  Tyros slept, dreaming of citadels, Leot, gargoyles, and, for a change, Serene. The dreams were jumbled, yet in all of them the cleric stood by his side, her power complementing his own. No thought, no mention of her lost love disturbed the dreams, and in each the pair triumphed over great odds.

  Only in the last dream did matters change for the worse, for as Tyros triumphed over a score of cowardly gargoyles, he suddenly couldn’t catch his breath. The wizard fell to his knees. Serene tried to reach him, but she grew faint, a mere shadow whose slim hands went right through him. Tyros bent over, struggling for air …

  And woke up to find he suffered the very same fate.

  “Make no sound,” a low, rumbling voice demanded, “or die!”

  Tyros opened his eyes, only now realizing that he dangled several feet in the air. A constant beating sound drummed quietly in his ears, the steady flap of wings. Despite the warnings the voice had given him, the mage twisted in momentary panic, reliving the nightmare that had haunted him since the attack on Gwynned.

  A gargoyle had him. One clawed hand was over his mouth, the other around his left arm and torso. The creature shifted his talons so that Tyros could breathe, which enabled the wizard to calm down a bit.

  His captor brought Tyros not toward Norwych, but rather to a cliff overlooking a wooded region a short distance from the campsite. The gargoyle deposited the spellcaster without ceremony at the edge of a cave in the cliff wall. In the dark of night, the creature looked almost like some tremendous bat as he landed, which only served to reinforce Tyros’s old nightmares. Nevertheless, the kidnapped mage prepared a spell to defend himself.

  “Fooool,” the monster growled. “No spell! Want to talk, not fight!”

  His comment made Tyros pause. The gargoyle hadn’t killed him, nor had he brought his prisoner to the citadel. What, then, did the creature have in mind?

  Seeing that the mage would not immediately attack, the shadowy gargoyle nodded
his horned head. “Good! Some sense … for once!”

  “What—what do you want?”

  A rumble of breath escaped the beaked monstrosity. He planted a taloned hand on his chest. “Stone I am. Stone.”

  Tyros slowly repeated the gargoyle’s name, then pointed at himself. “I am Tyros.”

  “Tyros … from the far city and the falling tower.”

  The wizard started. The falling tower? That sounded uncomfortably like the events in Gwynned, but how would Stone know about that unless … “You were there?”

  Stone snorted. “Saved you … fought for you.”

  Saved Tyros? Fought for him? The mage frowned. What did Stone mean?

  Then he remembered the gargoyle with the back of its neck torn out. Captain Bakal had thought the dead creature had been slain by something similar to it, possibly even by one of its own kind. Now, if Tyros understood Stone well enough, the gargoyle claimed to be the one who had not only killed the other monster, but had prevented the red mage from joining Leot as a captive.

  The notion did not sit well. “I don’t believe you. Why save me, and why do it by killing one of your own?”

  His companion hissed. “Not one of my own! One of the mountain fliers.” He hissed again. “One of Crag’s!”

  The gargoyle held up three clawed fingers next to his forehead, which at last made Tyros recall the other gargoyle they had seen today, the one with the extra horn.

  “Crag is not like you?”

  “Not like me! Hissss flock and mine …” He slammed his hands together, then twisted them around like two battling serpents. “Understand?”

  Stone and Crag belonged to different groups of gargoyles, adversarial flocks who would have ordinarily had nothing to do with one another. “But you both obey another, don’t you?”

  “Yesss …”

  “General Cadrio, I assume?”

  Stone laughed harshly, a disconcerting sound. “Another fooool! Serve massster of the castle. Wizard like you.”

  Another wizard. It hardly surprised Tyros and made more sense than a military officer controlling the flying citadel. Such power could not have been wielded by a man with no magical abilities. True, Cadrio could have had some wizards at his command, but would any who could create such a weapon as Castle Atriun be willing to serve rather than lead?

  “Why save me? Why go against your master?”

  Stone suddenly looked up. Tyros followed his gaze but saw nothing. The gargoyle, though, grew more agitated. “Saved you to slow master. Could not save fat wizard or old one, but saved you …” He shook his head. “But fool came back! Fool wizard!” Stone’s red, unblinking eyes fixed on the human’s own. “Came for castle, yes? Want castle, yes?”

  “Yes.” He saw no use in lying to the creature, who clearly did not like his own master.

  Again Stone shook his head. “Foolish wizards …”

  Tyros tried to choose his words carefully. “I want to get inside, save my friend, then take control of the citadel and bring it back to Gwynned … the far city.”

  The gargoyle took time to consider this before asking, “And Stone’s kind?”

  He shrugged. “Leave if you like.”

  This seemed to decide something for his captor. The gargoyle stretched his wings, then pointed at the human. “Strong magic.” Stone pointed up. “But stronger magic there …” He leaned forward, his voice quieter, his body tense. “Except when clouds thin …”

  “What happens when the clouds thin?”

  The blood-red eyes came very close. “Castle’s magic weakens.” He considered. “Tyros could come then …” Something beyond the cliff side caught the gargoyle’s attention. The earlier agitation returned, only greater. “Must go. Listen, human! Watch when clouds thin. If must come, come then! Will help if can, but …”

  An unsettling blast of wind rushed into the cave, nearly bowling the wizard over. Tyros sensed movement in the distance.

  Again the gargoyle looked skyward. Suddenly he darted up, abandoning his captive without a word. Tyros at first gaped, then realized that not only did he have many questions for the creature, but Stone had also left him stranded in the middle of nowhere.

  He heard the flap of wings, but they were those of something far larger than a gargoyle. A moment later, he saw a great shape pass overhead—one of the dragons. Small wonder that Stone had fled, but where did that leave Tyros?

  Fortunately for him, the dragon continued on, at last disappearing into the murky darkness. However, that still left the mage lost and alone in the mountain cave. Tyros couldn’t be certain that any spell he cast would get him down safely. Still, he had no choice but to try, for any thought of climbing down he dismissed the moment he peered over the edge. Even in the darkness, Tyros could see that the cliff was much too steep.

  Again Tyros heard the flapping of wings. He ducked back into the cave, listening to the sound grow. Whatever flew out there now flew toward him.

  Carefully leaning forward, the wizard peered out. Only darkness met his gaze. Still the beat grew louder. Had Stone returned for him, or did one of the opposing gargoyles now approach?

  A massive animal squawked.

  “Shh, Taggi!” a familiar voice reprimanded much too loudly. “Serene says we’ve got to be as quiet as mice, although I’ve watched some and they can be pretty noisy, especially if they run across the floor you’re trying to sleep on, but I guess they’d be quiet around you, Taggi.”

  “Hush, Rapp.” A globe of dim emerald light materialized in the air several yards from the end of the ledge. Serene’s visage, made haunting by the glow, fixed upon Tyros. “We’ve found him!”

  “See? I told you they could track anything just by sniffing a piece of clothing or something! Good thing I found that small pouch he generally keeps on his belt, although how it ended up in my sack, I’ll never know!”

  Tyros felt by his belt and discovered that he was indeed missing a pouch. For once he was actually grateful for the kender’s magpie ways.

  The griffon landed in the cave. Serene immediately dismounted, then looked over Tyros with much anxiety. “Are you all right?”

  “I am, but thanks for coming for me! I was just trying to figure out how to return.”

  “Can you do it with magic?” the kender piped up. “Can we watch, or would you like us to go back and wait for you? That might be fun, watching you float down right into the camp. I bet Bakal would find it a real treat, too!”

  Serene quieted him down again. “I’m sure that Tyros is too tired.”

  “Then Taggi’ll bring us all back!” Rapp indicated the griffon. “This is Taggi. I named him, and he can carry all three of us. He’s real strong, aren’t you, Taggi?”

  The griffon emitted a peculiar purr as the kender stroked the feathery hair of his mane.

  “How did you know I was gone?” the wizard asked Serene.

  “One of the griffons woke and told Rapp. At least, that’s his story.”

  The kender’s head bobbed up and down. “He said you got taken into the sky, Tyros, and not by a griffon!”

  Tyros nodded. “It was a gargoyle.”

  “A gargoyle? I’ve never seen one up close. In fact, that big gargoyle we followed today was the first I’d ever even seen!”

  Serene looked at Tyros with some suspicion. “What would a gargoyle want with the likes of you, if not to take you to the citadel? Why bring you out here?”

  The mage shrugged. “He wanted to talk. Seems to want to help us. He told me when we might best reach the citadel without being caught.”

  “And you believed him?”

  “He apparently saved me once before … in Gwynned. So, yes, I believe him.” Tyros thought of the storm-enshrouded castle and the intensity of the magic he had sensed emanating from it. “I just hope he knew what he was talking about.”

  * * * * *

  Stone fluttered toward Castle Atriun, already nervous. The dragon alone did not bother him. Rather, Stone knew that he should have been back
hours ago. Valkyn kept a strict accounting of the gargoyles. Others had been punished for lesser matters, and if Crag or one of the mountain fliers noted his late return, they would certainly leap at the opportunity to report Stone to the wizard. Valkyn had already begun to question his trustworthiness, and if, in the process of punishing Stone, the master learned of the gargoyle’s encounter with Tyros, then Valkyn would certainly see to it that his rebellious servant suffered the ultimate penalty.

  The gargoyle hissed, unable to hold back some expression of hatred toward the ebony-clad mage. With one swipe of his talons, one bite, he could end his master’s life, but before he had the chance Valkyn would reduce him to ashes with a spell. Gargoyles had some magic, including for defense, but against the master … No, cunning was called for now.

  His people would be freed somehow.

  Caught up in his worries, Stone didn’t notice the massive shape above him, not until suddenly a cage of talons snatched him up and a deep chuckle threatened his eardrums.

  “Caught you! I caught you! Murk will be so jealous. Cadrio will call me clever and reward me!”

  Even as Stone struggled, he wondered what the dragon meant. What did the human, Cadrio, want of him? The gargoyle tried to pry himself free, but the dragon easily held him fast.

  “I could crush you, but Cadrio wants you. Be still and you’ll suffer little, gnat!”

  The dragon soared past the clouds that marked the flying citadel, his destination clearly the remains of what had once been the port of Norwych. Stone watched with a sinking heart as they neared the harbor where the sinister ships of the leviathan’s master had anchored. A few minutes later Eclipse settled on the already flattened ruins of a large building near the docks, startling a pair of guards in the process.

  “Cadrio!” the dragon rumbled. “I must speak with Cadrio!”

  One of the guards hurried away. A few anxious moments later, another armored human came trotting toward them. “What is it, Murk? The general has much to deal with and desires no interruptions!”