Sleep and dream. She did not have the strength to defy those two pleasant suggestions. Yet as Idaria began to drift off, a part of her protested that something wrong was happening. Something that had to do with the voice in her head.
It had not been her voice she had heard, not at all.
And as she finally blacked out, the last thing the elf thought was that she recognized the voice.
The voice of the very same Nerakan officer. A human whose face and name remained oddly and disturbingly vague as Idaria lost consciousness.
XX
Dangling from Chasm’s mighty grip, Stefan could not see the other gargoyles, but he knew they must be near. The knight prayed to Kiri-Jolith for guidance. He had no doubt Chasm could carry him to safety, but that did nothing for Tyranos. Nor Golgren, assuming he was alive and in the vicinity. Stefan cared little for himself, only for those he intended to aid. It was his duty to follow through on his patron’s desire, and he was willing to do so even if his own life was sacrificed. But sacrifice meant nothing without victory. Failure was not an option.
His prayers were cut off by something astounding he glimpsed just beyond the mountains of the dark castle. The horizon blazed with fire, and there were more gargoyles there. They seemed obsessed with reaching one location just out of sight.
The cleric’s eyes widened, and he heard Chasm grunt in surprise. For a moment it had looked as though another peak had suddenly sprouted into existence.
But that was not possible … Was it?
The hisses and screeches of the gargoyles behind them reminded Stefan that he had more immediate concerns. “To the north!” he shouted, glancing up at his rescuer. Stefan pointed to his left. “Veer around the mountain!”
To Stefan’s relief, the gargoyle quickly obeyed. The great wings beat hard, thrusting them forward.
They reached the peak. Chasm banked. Stefan could not tell whether what he heard was the echo of Chasm’s wings, or the onrushing sound of the many attackers surely close behind them.
The gargoyle slowed, suddenly diving toward the mountain with such velocity that the human was certain they were going to die. At the last moment, Chasm turned toward the mouth of a cave, and the two dropped into it.
The moment that Chasm released his hold, Stefan rolled around and sprang up with his sword ready. He ran to the entrance and peered out.
Although he saw the gargoyles who had been trailing them, he was pleased to see they had lost track of their prey and were joining the others above in the fiery sky.
“We’re safe,” he said to Chasm, who grunted agreement. Stefan looked around at their surroundings. “Relatively safe. Thank you for helping me.”
“Must help master,” the gargoyle grunted.
“Of course I’ll help Tyranos.”
“Good!” Shambling on all fours, Chasm peeked out of the cave. “All gone.”
“Yes, there must be something their master wants elsewhere. It might even be Golgren. Perhaps we should follow them.”
His winged companion hissed. “Must help master!”
As Chasm was the only one who could fly, Stefan wasn’t about to go somewhere without him. But the Solamnian felt torn. His patron had sent him on a mission that involved the ogre leader, not the wizard. As fascinating as Tyranos was-at least from what little knowledge Kiri-Jolith had granted his new cleric-the safety of the spellcaster was secondary to that of Golgren and the Fire Rose.
Clutching his pendant, the knight contemplated his options. The answer became as obvious as it was insane.
“I think I may have some idea where we can find out about Tyranos.”
Chasm looked suspicious.
Undaunted, Stefan explained, “You saw the castle on the mountain. It must belong to the gargoyles’ lord. The thing that took Tyranos must be his work. I saw what happened. I do not think it likely that your master is dead. He must be a prisoner. And the best way to find and free him is to search the castle. The magic may have even brought Tyranos there!”
The winged behemoth grunted and gently flapped his wings, thinking. The gargoyle glanced at the cave mouth.
“Come,” he rumbled.
Sheathing his sword, Stefan joined Chasm at the entrance. He looked out and glanced at the gargoyle. Chasm shoved him out.
Stefan fell. He opened his mouth to scream, and Chasm’s thick paws seized him as they had before. The gargoyle carried him from the mountain.
The cleric recovered his breath just as the side of the mountain where the citadel stood came into view. Stefan could feel the ancient age of the place, not to mention the latent magical energies surrounding it. No one was supposed to find the mountain and especially not the castle.
But Stefan knew that Kiri-Jolith had intervened, partly to help his new cleric, but also because of Tyranos, who had lost the faith he had once had in that particular god.
Yes, Kiri-Jolith had intervened. That was clear. The rest was up to them, and especially to Stefan.
Chasm neared the sinister sanctum, a place that chilled the knight. Stefan had been on many dangerous missions for his homeland, but none of those missions had ever brought him to such a place. The rough-hewn walls almost reminded him of skin, as if the castle itself were a living, breathing thing.
The gargoyle let out an inquisitive grunt. Stefan understood what he wanted.
“That window there! The one in the right tower!” He had picked it mainly because it was the closest, but also because he had a hunch that it was the safest. The cleric prayed he was correct.
Banking again, Chasm flew directly for the window. The opening was large enough for either the gargoyle or the human, but not for both together at the same time. Stefan felt Chasm adjust his grip. The gargoyle intended to set him down first.
There were spells around the citadel, but thus far Stefan had not sensed anything active. Perhaps it had grown complacent.
Still. “Be wary, Chasm.”
The winged creature responded with a snort. A gargoyle did not survive very long in life if he did not remain wary.
They reached the window unimpeded. Chasm held Stefan before the opening while the knight maneuvered his legs inside. Grabbing the sides, Stefan slipped through.
He immediately drew his sword and crouched. As Stefan took a step farther inside, Chasm entered behind him. The gargoyle folded his wings and followed on his hind legs and four paws.
The cleric could see nothing. He held the medallion up in front of him and muttered a prayer.
A faint light shone from the medallion. Stefan would have liked to have had more illumination, but he didn’t want to alert anyone of their presence, and it was enough to light his way.
Shapes coalesced. Statues without faces, but clad in robes or armor or other garments. The style of carving varied from figure to figure, as if they had been done by a variety of artisans. Some looked older than others, even to the point where parts were cracked. All the statues lined marble walls bearing veins that Stefan associated with great age.
Chasm snuffled. Stefan had already stifled a few sneezes. There was a tremendous amount of dust in the room, as if no one had been in it for years. Peering closer at the statues, the Solamnian saw they were so covered with dust that he had not even realized they were also painted.
The other end of the chamber ended at a door that looked like iron but when cautiously opened turned out to be as light as wood. It was completely unadorned save for a handle.
With Chasm at his heels, Stefan stepped out to find himself at the top of a long flight of stairs. The dust covered stone steps wound down as far as he could see.
The knight and gargoyle descended. Chasm was especially uncomfortable during the descent, the winding steps giving him no room to spread his wings. Both showed visible relief when they reached the bottom.