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.