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.