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.”