Hearing the wind that was not wind, one of the guards atop the wall saw the stupendous apparition approaching and let out an involuntary, startled cry. It was enough to alert the evening patrol below, which reacted with impressive lack of decision.
Their yelling was loud enough to reach into the great central hall, where the Baron Krasvin was planning his final assault on the upstart occupier of his precious library. He peered past his courtiers, his expression irritable.
“What’s all that noise.”
“I’ll go and see, Master.” Holding his floppy hat onto his head, a woodchuck sprinted for the doorway.
Krasvin grunted at the interruption and returned his attention to his immediate circle. “Now remember: We’re going in quietly. Once inside I want all of you to hug the wall. Neiswik and I will go up the ladder first. As soon as we can get the lamp out of her reach we’ll toss her down to you. Get on her immediately: She’s quick. And don’t hurt her.” He grinned nastily. “Such pleasures I reserve for myself.”
“I can’t hold it!” shouted Viz as he plunged lower. “I can feel myself starting to change back.”
“Then get the ‘ell down!” Squill squealed at him.
“We have to land inside.” Buncan tried to estimate the distance remaining to the estate. “We have to!”
At that moment an unearthly shriek split the air rushing past him. It came not from any of his companions but from immediately below. It wasn’t surprising that he didn’t recognize it. He’d never heard a rhinoceros scream before.
Snaugenhutt had chosen that moment to awaken.
“It’s all right.” Buncan leaned out and over as far as he could. “We’re almost there!”
“Almost wh-wh-where?” Snaugenhutt’s words were not slurred, his tone unimpaired. As a representative of a decidedly earthbound tribe, the experience of finding himself suddenly and unexpectedly soaring through the air had done nothing less than shock him sober.
“The gate,” their mount shouted. “We’re almost upon the gate!”
Though deeply distorted, the tickbird’s voice was not unrecognizable. Snaugenhutt’s head twisted around and up. “Viz?”
“Yeah, it’s me, you useless old soak. I’m wondering why I bothered to haul you along.”
“Sorry. Don’t know what happened to me.”
“I do. I can’t let you out of my sight for a minute without you crapping all over what little reputation we’ve got left. But that’s Krasvin’s estate up ahead. You’re about to get a chance to redeem yourself. Whether you want to or not.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that the spell that’s done me like this is wearing off fast, we have to get inside that wall unnoticed if possible, and in order to do that we need a diversion. A big diversion.”
Snaugenhutt’s eyelids shuttered suspiciously. “What kind of ‘diversion’?”
At which point there resounded in the night sky above the silent forest west of Camrioca an immortal cry not likely to be repeated in the lifetime of anyone in the immediate vicinity. Or anywhere else, for that matter.
“Rhino awayyyy!”
“Nooooo!” Snaugenhutt howled as those great claws unclenched and Viz released his burden.
As the transformed tickbird soared upward, buoyed by the release, the panicked rhino described an elegant trajectory out and down, plunging horn-first in a great arc straight toward the high, double-doored gateway. On the walkway atop the gate two of Krasvin’s household troops witnessed the black-armored, flame-painted monstrosity hurtling toward them out of the half-moon. One fainted dead away on the spot, while the other dove into the courtyard with becoming alacrity.
Pennants and ribbons flying, the cast-iron-clad Snaugenhutt smashed into the center of the gate with stupendous (if decidedly unwilling) force. Planks and cross-braces shattered explosively. His armor banging and clanking like a military band on speed, Snaugenhutt landed in the courtyard, rolled over three times, and ended up on his feet, albeit staggering groggily. Fortunately he did not have to confront any immediate adversaries, the appalled patrol having fled precipitously in all directions.
Watching them abandon their weapons as they vanished into doorways and around comers reassured him as his senses returned. Dust from the devastated gate was still settling as he started forward, trailing broken beams and smashed planks from his broad back.
Confronted by the unimaginably terrifying sight of an armored, flame-scoured, flying (well, falling) rhinoceros, those retainers who arrived to see what had happened beat an immediate and fearful retreat.
“Come back and fight!” Snaugenhutt bellowed defiantly. “Cowards, spineless reptiles! Stand and do battle!” There was so much adrenaline coursing through him that he was hopping up and down on all four feet, making a sound like one of the ore crushers at the fabled Caqueriad Mines.
Not surprisingly, none of Krasvin’s minions elected to take him up on his offer.
At that point the Baron himself, trailing retainers like remoras, appeared in the main entrance to the mansion. The sight of the armored, snorting, quadrupedal intruder, eyes bloodshot and nostrils flaring in the moonlight, gave even the belligerent Krasvin pause.
Snaugenhutt took note of the figures crowding awkwardly in the doorway and let out a gratified rumble. “Ahhhh. Fresh meat!”
A silken-clad squirrel squealed frantically and vanished back inside. To his credit Krasvin drew his own sword and tried to rally his people.
“Weapons! We’ll make a stand here.” His saber wasn’t as long as the rhino’s front horn.
Snaugenhutt wasn’t exactly quick out of the blocks, but once he got his great bulk up to speed he could manage a very respectable pace. The Baron held his ground as long as was sensible, then uttered a violent curse and retreated inside, helping to slam the door shut behind him.
Pennants streaming, Snaugenhutt plowed through the portal without breaking stride, sending wood, metal strapping, and fragments of stained glass flying in all directions. Braking with his front feet, he skidded to a stop in the middle of the great hall and immediately began hunting for something else to trample, knock down, or gore. The subjects of his attention ran into, around, and over one another in their haste to avoid his homicidal gaze. It was a very effective diversion.
CHAPTER 16
Rapidly shrinking to his natural proportions, Viz just did manage to clear the high wall and land his passengers atop the main building. It was an awkward touchdown, but everyone made it in one piece.
As they climbed to their feet they could hear the yells and screams rising from below, a chorus of confusion and fear.
“It sounds as if our friend Snaugenhutt is doing his job.” Gragelouth brushed at his pants. “I was not sure he had it in him.”
“Oh, he always had it in him.” Viz was skimming back and forth across the roof, searching for a way down for his companions. “It’s just that it was always saturated. But that little flight dried him out, rejuvenated him. Downdrafts be damned if it didn’t rejuvenate me.” He paused to hover in front of Buncan. “I enjoyed that little transformation. Think you two could do it again?”
“I don’t know. It wasn’t what we were trying to do in the first place.” Buncan made certain the duar was strapped securely against his back. “Have you found a way down?”
“Afraid not.” Viz gestured with a wingtip. “There don’t seem to be any stairs leading to this roof. The only openings I was able to find are vents, chimneys, and skylights.”
“Fair enough.” Squill stood by the edge of one skylight, leaning over to peer through the translucency.
“It’ll have to do.” Buncan moved to join his friend. “We’ll break the glass and climb down the ladder.”
Squill frowned at him. “Ladder? Wot ladder?” He put one hand over his eyes and pulled his sword with the other. “We otters are the direct type, mate. You ought to know that by now.”