Recovering from the orange bolts, Galvin gasped for air and peered into the webs, searching for the wizards.
“If they’re lucky they might be able to break free, but by then, we’ll be a long way from here,” Brenna said calmly.
Galvin looked about the dark hallway until he spotted several torches along the wall. He lit them with a torch from the landing and coaxed the slave girl to climb the stairs. She was reluctant, but she had few other options.
Taking her hand, Galvin joined Brenna. Holding the torch up and peering carefully into the magical web, they spotted the three wizards, struggling futilely to break free of its grasp.
“These wizards probably aren’t very powerful,” she observed. “Otherwise Maligor would have taken them with him. They’re probably apprentices, left behind to defend the castle.”
Galvin glowered at the men in the webbing, then held the torch even closer to its fringe. “Cooperate with us,” he warned, “and we’ll let you live. If you don’t, you’ll fry in there.” He had no intention of setting the webs on fire, but he hoped they believed his threat.
“We’ll cooperate,” a muffled voice replied.
Brenna released her web spell, then chanted the phrase Galvin remembered hearing in the orchard when she mesmerized the leader of the ore patrol. It had a similar effect on the wizards, who meekly allowed themselves to be tied up with cords from the hallway tapestries.
A group of long-haired slaves appeared in the hallway as the last of the wizards was being trussed up. “Stay back!” Brenna yelled. The slaves did as they were told. The girl at the sorceress’s side rushed past the wizards and threw herself at a lanky young man in the middle of the group; Brenna guessed that he was her brother from his close resemblance to her. He held her tightly.
Galvin pulled one of the apprentice wizards to his feet. He looked at the group of slaves and the young girl. “Did Maligor have any drawings or maps? Did he keep them on this floor?”
She shook her head no.
“What’s on this level?” the druid snapped at his hostage.
“The chambers for Maligor’s apprentice wizards,” he said reluctantly.
The druid dragged the wizard down the hallway and pushed him hard against the first door they came to, using the wizard’s weight to force the door open. Inside, he saw that the wizard had apparently told the truth. It was a large, ornate room with expensive beds, plush furniture, and mahogany wardrobes. Galvin stuck his head back out into the hall.
“Bring the slaves in here!”
Brenna herded the slaves past the apprentices and down the hallway to the large room. She went back to check the room the slaves had come from to make sure it was empty, then returned and looked for the druid. He was directing the slaves into a corner of the large room. Apparently believing Maligor had been overthrown, the slaves asked Galvin which Red Wizard was in charge of the tower.
“No one at the moment,” the druid replied. “We’re not Thayvians. I’m a Harper. And you’ll have to stay here. It isn’t safe outside.” He paused, glancing at their worried faces. “You’ll be safe together. Just be sure to keep several candles and lanterns lit in this room and keep them going all night. We’ll be back after we deal with Maligor.”
“He’s not here,” one of the older slaves said stepping forward. The man had a yellow tinge to his skin and long, thin black hair, indicating he was from Kara-Tur, but his accent was Thayvian. “He left after the army departed, and we don’t expect him back for days. You’ve captured the only apprentices he left behind. He took the rest with him—wherever he was going.”
“We’re looking for his personal effects … anything that might provide a clue about his destination,” Galvin continued. “We need to find out what he’s up to. If any of you can help, speak up.”
The slaves murmured amongst themselves, but no one had any suggestions.
“The dealings of a Red Wizard aren’t shared with the likes of us,” the older slave said finally. “But if you’re looking for information, try the top floor. Several slaves that Maligor took there were never seen again.”
Galvin thanked the slave and left hurriedly, pulling the apprentice wizard out the door with him. Brenna closed the door and edged in front of the druid.
“This time I’m leading the way. I’ve got a few spells left in case we need them.”
When they reached the top floor, they were confronted by an ornate door. Brenna told Galvin to stay behind on the landing with the apprentice, then she moved slowly toward the door. She took several minutes to study the chipped marble floor, then the inlaid bronze and silver symbols on the door itself.
“Maligor has some kind of a ward here, a type of spell that takes effect when the door is opened. I’m not sure if I can do much about it.” Brenna continued to study the designs until she heard Galvin’s footsteps approaching.
The door glowed a soft blue and the air began to turn intensely hot about her, blistering her lips.
“Stay back!” she yelled. “Step only on the green and black ties. The others are enchanted.”
About to step on a gray tile, Galvin whirled.
“Brenna, get to the stairwell! We’ll let our wizard friend open the door. If he likes magic so much, we’ll let him find out what happens.”
“No, please!” the man gasped as Galvin began to push him forward. “If I touch the door, I’ll burn to a crisp.”
“Then tell us what’s behind the door. Maybe I’ll change my mind,” Galvin growled.
“I—I don’t know,” the wizard answered, “but I’m telling you the truth. No one but Maligor and maybe Asp, has been in there.”
“Asp? Who is Asp?” Galvin persisted.
“The wizard’s woman,” the apprentice replied, realizing that Maligor would kill him for revealing such information. He paled. Thinking his only chance for survival lay in killing the Harper, he reached into the folds of his robe and produced a curved-edged dagger. The apprentice Red Wizard thrust it at the druid, but Galvin dodged to the side, pushed the apprentice toward the door, and quickly retreated to the landing.
There was a blinding flash of white light, and the stench of charred flesh filled the air. When the smoke cleared, Brenna and Galvin saw nothing but a pile of ashes in front of the door.
Brenna pushed past the druid and stepped from green tile to black tile until she reached the door. Extending her palm and running it over the surface of the inlaid symbols, she satisfied herself that the magic was gone—at least for a while.
Cautiously Brenna opened the door. It was dark inside, but enough light filtered in from the landing to reveal part of the contents.
Galvin moved up behind her and peered inside.
“Gods, no!” he cried.
Thirteen
A heavy scent of death emanated from the tower room as the druid opened the door. The smell was almost overpowering, and although the shadows were too thick to make out all of the room’s features, the druid knew there were bodies inside.
Galvin clenched and relaxed his fists, drew in a deep breath, then strode into the heart of the room, despite Brenna’s protests that there may be more magical guards and wards about. He halted in front of a large, low table covered with cages—the obvious source of the odor—and lit the lantern that hung above it.
At first glance, Galvin thought each cage contained a balled-up pelt of some kind. Then, as the lantern glowed brighter, he noticed tiny, fixed black eyes, and curled paws. The ribs of most animals showed through their fur, indicating they had likely died from starvation.
Galvin’s hands worked furiously with the latch on the largest cage, tearing the mechanism off when it wouldn’t open fast enough. Inside were rabbits, several of them coated with dried blood. Because they had huddled together and looked like one mass of fur, it was difficult to tell how many there were. Their stiffened paws stuck outward from the pile at odd angles. The druid gently ran his hands over the soft fur, feeling the protruding ribs underneath, imagining how horribly they must have died. Quickly he searched through the cage, trying to find anything alive. His efforts yielded only one survivor.