“But I cannot leave the others.”
“Stone’s people will-” The gargoyle broke off, suddenly staring at the center of the room in consternation. “Come quick!”
He seized her wrist, pulling her from the bed just as a tall figure in black robes materialized at the very point where the creature had been staring. Stone tried to rush to the balcony, but the doors suddenly swung shut, sealing the pair inside.
Hissing in anger, the gargoyle quickly released her and, with a roar, leaped at the new intruder.
An ebony-gloved hand reached out, fingers twisting like claws. Stone suddenly reeled, clutching at his chest. The gargoyle stumbled back, nearly colliding with Serene.
“I see that your first lesson did not hold,” Valkyn quietly commented. “There will be no second.”
Serene tried to throw herself in front of Stone. “Valkyn, no!”
The black wizard gave a twist of his wrist.
An incredible wave of heat forced Serene away from her winged companion. She turned to see Stone howl in agony as a brilliant sunburst formed on his chest. The sunburst spread swiftly, enveloping the struggling gargoyle.
Knowing that he was lost, Stone lunged at his tormentor. However, even as his wings launched him into the air, the gargoyle simply faded, his roar cut off midway through.
Although tears streamed down Serene’s cheeks, anger had command of her now. She glared at Valkyn, wondering how she had ever thought she would love him forever. “You’ve killed him!”
“It was only a gargoyle, and not a very good one at that. Not worth any more than a kender, which is why we’re better rid of them both, my dear serenity.”
“A … a kender?” Not Rapp, too, she thought.
“Yes.” Valkyn’s tone became brusque. He stretched forth the same hand toward her, but instead of feeling tremendous heat burning her from within, the cleric found herself floating to the mage. “Now come to me. I’ve had enough of these irritations. My house must be put back in order.”
He took her wrist. Up close, Serene noticed for the first time the blood and the injury to his forehead. Someone had struck Valkyn a damaging blow. It gave her the encouragement she needed.
“I’ll go nowhere with you, you monster!” Serene murmured a prayer and had the satisfaction of seeing him release her wrist in sudden pain. The area around his hand glowed a soft emerald color.
“Damn you!” Valkyn swung his other hand at her face. The wand caught Serene across her jaw and sent the cleric reeling.
She fell to the floor, stunned. Valkyn’s menacing shadow loomed over her, a spectre of death. The glow around his other hand faded.
“What a fool I was to think so little of you,” he murmured. “The young cleric of a woodland god just returned.” The wizard’s smile had turned decidedly grim. “I thought Tyros had turned my storm against me. I never even considered you in that equation. A sloppy bit of calculation on my part.”
He pointed the wand at her. Serene noticed that it didn’t glow as strongly as it had when he had first materialized. “And so you’ll kill me now, dear Valkyn?”
“Kill you? Perhaps temper you. Bend you. Break you. Not kill you, though. You mean far too much to me.”
“Once that would have been flattering, but now I feel nothing but loathing for you.”
The dark wizard’s smile widened, never a good sign. “As if that mattered. You’re going to give me back my citadel, my dear, and you’re going to help me make it stronger, more efficient. But first you’re going to help me deal with one loose end.”
The hallway doors burst open.
Both turned as a figure clad in ragged crimson robes stalked in, a staff in one hand. Tyros looked pale and gaunt, yet still something about him told Serene that the younger wizard hadn’t yet given up the fight.
“And here is that loose end even now,” mocked Valkyn. “This certainly simplifies matters.”
“Your toy crumbles around you, Valkyn,” Tyros declared. “The storm is against you, the citadel flies without control, and you have no source with which to power it. We have only a matter of time before it crashes!”
“Oh, it will fly for some time, my fellow mage. As long as the device itself remains intact, the power stored will keep Atriun flying until I find a new source … or resecure an old one.”
Tyros raised the staff. “That will not happen.”
“You found your staff? A useless little thing. I inspected it myself. You would have been better off stealing mine again. It might have availed you better … at least for a few moments.”
“You know I have more than just the staff at my command.” Tyros raised his empty fist, which briefly flared bright yellow, as if caught in the sun. “I have magic of my own.”
Valkyn chuckled. “And I have Serene, which is all that matters.”
He stretched forth his free hand, and to her horror, Serene again found herself pulled toward him. She tried to whisper a prayer, but her mouth wouldn’t work. Valkyn took hold of her, cradling her shoulders as if they were once again lovers.
“My serenity,” Valkyn whispered. He looked at his adversary. “You’ll do nothing, of course, except drop the staff and surrender. For the price of her life, you’ll give your own by returning to my device. Dear Serene will turn the storm back, so that once more it is mine to control.” He frowned. “I’ve had enough of disruptions. Gwynned would have been the test to prove the ultimate supremacy of my design, and it still will be. No army, no dragon, can face her when she is under proper control! She will be a marvel for all to admire even as they bow to her!”
The cleric shivered. Did Valkyn understand how insane he sounded?
Likely Tyros understood that, but he nonetheless obeyed the other’s commands. Dropping the staff, he held out his wrists and took a step forward. The captive mage moved with some stiffness, no doubt the results of his horrific time chained to Valkyn’s arcane device.
With the wand, Valkyn drew a circle. A ring of black crystal formed in the air, a ring that floated toward Tyros’s wrists.
Serene had to do something. She prayed silently to Branchala, asking him to do whatever he must to keep Tyros free.
At that moment, Castle Atriun suffered a tremendous shock wave, as if an earthquake had struck. Tyros fell forward, and Valkyn stumbled to the floor, his precious wand clattering away. Serene rolled toward the balcony, colliding with the doors there and ending up mere inches from the wand.
The tremor that had rattled the massive edifice to its foundation could not have been the result of a bolt of lightning or even a missile from the catapults below. Pushing open one of the balcony doors, Serene looked outside. At first she saw only the thick gray storm clouds that almost resembled rock.…
No-what the cleric saw more than resembled rock; it was rock.
Atriun had collided with a mountain.
Not exactly collided. Rather, the flying citadel had merely scraped along the side, but enough to send the entire castle into chaos. Outside, the gargoyles shrieked, their battle momentarily broken up. Beyond them, she could see that one of the outer walls had been completely demolished.
Bits of stone fell from above her, forcing Serene back inside. As she moved, her hand came to rest on the wand. She picked it up, startled that it should come so readily into her possession. For a moment, Serene contemplated trying to use it, thinking that at last she could teach Valkyn the folly of his evil.
“Give that to me.”
Valkyn rose to one knee, gloved hand outstretched. The arresting blue eyes that had once ensnared her love now sought to trap her fear. Serene, though, had gotten past her fear of Valkyn. She held the wand out as if to return it, but as the wizard stood and reached out for it, the cleric tossed the magical artifact back over her shoulder … and over the balcony railing.
Lightning flashed, illuminating the sudden fury in Valkyn’s visage. The hand snapped closed, and he looked over his shoulder at Tyros, who had managed to recover his balance. Both men might have come to grips, but again the citadel shook, a slow, grating tremor that sent furniture scattering and the very walls cracking.