Peering out, Tyros saw nothing. Curious, he returned to the intersection. A quick glance revealed no evidence of the shadow’s passing. The macabre figure had simply vanished.
With some trepidation, he moved on again. Moments later Tyros came upon a staircase that Stone had described, one that led not only up to where Valkyn kept Serene but also to the dark mage’s own private chambers. Gripping the staff tighter, Tyros ascended.
He reached the top undetected, but now the mage risked an encounter with Valkyn himself, and that forced him to move slowly, eyes ever shifting back and forth. He had been fortunate so far, but in addition to the possible presence of the black mage, Stone had warned him that a guard might stand duty outside of Serene’s chambers. Valkyn didn’t even trust the woman he had once loved.
Sure enough, down the hall where he had expected to find Serene’s chambers stood a huge brown gargoyle. The creature didn’t look at all pleased with his task. He watched the hall with fiery eyes, ready to pounce on any who did not have the master’s permission to pass this way.
Tyros remained out of sight around a corner, wondering what to do. He had originally assumed that disrupting Valkyn’s grand device would give him back his powers, but that hadn’t been the case. He could try using the magic of the staff, but he didn’t know whether the spells would work or if doing so might trigger Valkyn’s curse, leaving him at the mercy of the gargoyle.
That left his physical skill with the staff. While many mages soon forgot the lessons of hand-to-hand combat they had learned as apprentices, Tyros remembered his. Whether those lessons would work against such a creature, though …
Taking a deep breath, Tyros started around the corner again.
The warning cries of a host of gargoyles suddenly echoed through the citadel. The guard turned away from Tyros, peering toward the nearest window. Seizing the opportunity, Tyros raced toward him, staff held high. The cries of the other gargoyles continued to reverberate through the corridor, drowning out his footfalls.
At the last moment, the massive creature started to turn back. Tyros brought the tip of his weapon forward, slamming it into one of the monster’s most sensitive regions, his throat.
He had hoped at best to stun the leathery beast, having assumed that with such a tough hide even the throat would be well protected, but to Tyros’s astonishment, the great monster fell to his knees, choking. The mage immediately swung the staff with all his might, bringing it across the stricken gargoyle’s face.
The monster collapsed, motionless, at the mage’s feet.
Certain that he faced some trick, Tyros stood over the creature, tempted to bring down his weapon again. Taking a breath, the untrusting spellcaster finally prodded his foe. The monstrous guard remained prone.
More confident now, Tyros turned to the door. With a guard stationed, surely Valkyn had cast no spell to keep the door protected. Still, as a precaution, Tyros touched the handle with the tip of the staff. When nothing happened, he tried the door and not only found it unenchanted but unlocked as well.
Staff before him, he slipped into the room. “Serene!”
At first he thought he had guessed wrong, that Valkyn had set the gargoyle to watch this chamber for some other reason, but then the cleric came running from the direction of the balcony, eyes wide in both surprise and concern.
“Tyros! It’s you! Are you mad? Don’t you realize what you’ve done?”
Caught by surprise, the mage managed to blurt, “Come to rescue you, of course! Listen to me. I’m still under Valkyn’s spell, but you might have a chance to remove it. We need to-”
“Tyros, I can’t help you!”
He noticed something strange in her expression. Had he been wrong? Had Serene returned to the arms of her former love?
She read his expression. “No, it’s not that. Never! I can’t help you because Valkyn’s put me under a spell!”
“But you’re a cleric. You commune directly with Branchala. Valkyn’s power cannot be that strong, unless your faith has been weakened because of the past you two share.”
She might have answered him, but the renewed cries of the gargoyles outside caught the attention of them both. Tyros raced to the balcony.
Bright sunlight momentarily blinded him. As his eyes adjusted, the crimson-clad mage realized that he hadn’t seen the sun since the party had arrived at Castle Atriun. Gazing up, Tyros noted that not only had the sun broken through, but that most of the cloud cover had, in fact, dissipated.
A time when the clouds will thin …
“Come on, Bakal!” Tyros muttered. “You have to hurry!”
“Bakal?” Serene joined him, looking confused. “They’re not acting up because of Bakal! Don’t you see what’s out there?”
Going to the rail, Tyros searched the sky, looking for a reason that would draw the attention of every gargoyle in sight.
He found not one reason but two … and both were black dragons.
Someone else had apparently taken advantage of his handiwork, someone with an entirely different agenda. On the back of each behemoth rode at least five men, all but one armored. The other looked to be a mage of the Black Robes.
Twin black dragons meant General Cadrio, yet somehow Tyros doubted that the general had come to confer with his supposed ally. No, from what Tyros already knew of Valkyn and the sinister manner in which the dragons raced toward the castle, Cadrio had not come to visit but to conquer.
The dragons circled the citadel, then quickly dived toward the courtyard. Tyros saw tiny figures leap off the moment one of the leviathans landed, then the beast returned to the air.
Airborne gargoyles hovered about the heads of the dragons, trying to harass the invaders. One of the dragons unleashed a spray of acid, forcing the gargoyles to retreat. The two leviathans turned in opposite directions and then flew upward.
One apparently grazed the tower above as it departed. Bits of mortar and rock began to rain down on the balcony.
Tyros pulled Serene back inside. “Bakal and Rapp were supposed to head up there. I hope nothing’s happened to them.”
“They’re likely prisoners at this point,” a blithe voice answered, “or they may be dead.”
Valkyn stood at the doorway, wand held in his left hand like a sword. It still glowed, however faintly.
The smile that Tyros had come to loathe spread as Valkyn went on. “I am as prepared for their mischief as I am for the dear general’s. I fear General Marcus Cadrio has been a terrible disappointment. I expected him to at least wait until Gwynned lay in ruins before trying once more to end our alliance. Well, I forgave him once, but his usefulness is at an end. His forces will still march on Gwynned, but under my command. Of course, I only need them to be on the field. Nothing else matters after that.”
“And why is that?” Tyros had to ask.
“Because that will draw out Gwynned’s forces, and I can then study the full effect of my creation in an actual battle. Norwych was interesting but far too easy a target. To fully understand the potential of Atriun, I need Gwynned.”
Tyros’s eyes flickered to the wand, which seemed dimmer. He tried to stall Valkyn. “And then what happens? You conquer the rest of the world, Valkyn? Become the new emperor?”
The goateed spellcaster smirked. “I suppose I’ll have to carve out some kingdom of my own, if only to allow myself the freedom for my experiments. I already have the plans in motion to create more citadels such as this one, citadels that, with a bit of work, will make even Atriun seem clumsy and pathetic.”
Tyros recalled Leot. “But you will need more wizards, won’t you? Your foul device can’t function without them.”
“Very good. Almost correct, just as you were almost correct in assuming that without your friend chained to it, Castle Atriun would lose its abilities.”
The crystal on the wand had definitely grown dimmer. Tyros gripped his staff, ready to charge. Valkyn still no doubt had magic of his own, but how powerful would he be without his toy?