James Ward - Pool of Twilight

"This will have to do," Evaine muttered.

As the golem approached the precipice, she chanted the words of a spell. Suddenly a chunk of rock several feet wide quivered and liquefied into mud, sliding down into the ravine. Impervious to this change in its path, the golem lurched to the edge of the cliff.

For a moment, the golem teetered on the precipice. Then, without the slightest resistance, it toppled over the edge. Golem and boulder went tumbling down the ravine in a spray of rock.

Evaine grinned, watching the creature plummet into the valley. A simple idea, but it had worked! "After you, Gam," she said. The two started toward the cliff top. Exhausted by the spell, Evaine could not move very fast, but there was less reason to hurry, now that the golem was gone.

They had made scant progress when a clattering of stone caused them to pause and gaze below. Evaine drew in a sharp breath of surprise.

The stone golem was climbing up the ravine.

The fall had not so much as scratched the creature. The golem moved with astonishing quickness, using its huge hands to help pull itself up.

As quickly as she could manage, Evaine hurried up the rest of the slope. Gamaliel shimmered into his human shape, using his strong arms to help her. She heaved herself up over the cliff's edge, Gamaliel right behind. The golem was mere seconds below.

The sorceress tried to ready a spell, but fear seized her mind; she couldn't think clearly. Gamaliel shimmered into his cat form to defend her, ready to fight the golem. Evaine knew that would be folly. The magical creature had the strength to rip both of them to shreds.

The stone golem reached the top, towering over Evaine and Gamaliel, blotting out the sun with its bulk. The creature raised its huge arms, lurching forward.

Evaine shut her eyes, hoping the end would be quick.

For a long moment, nothing happened.

Finally, Gamaliel spoke in her mind. Evaine, open your eyes.

Reluctantly, she did as he asked. What she saw made her gasp in astonishment, then laugh aloud.

The stone golem went right past them, resuming its mindless task. Even now it was heading toward the crumbling wall carrying another boulder. As Evaine watched, the golem reached the muddy cliff's edge-and without hesitating toppled once again into the ravine!

It will do that forever, won't it? Gamaliel asked. It will never learn.

Evaine nodded. "But thankfully, we won't be around to watch it." Weakly, she pulled herself to her feet. "Let's go, Gam."

They started off through the ruined temple, leaving the golem to its ceaseless labor.

"We're coming down too fast!" Kern shouted.

"I know, I know!" Listle shouted back in annoyance as the flying carpet plunged toward the treetops. "The updrafts are unpredictable this close to the mountains."

It had taken only two days to cover the distance from the ruins of the red tower to the southern edge of the Dragonspine Mountains. But it looked to Kern as if their flying carpet days were about to come to an abrupt and violent end.

The carpet caught a vortex of cold air, spinning wildly. Kern would have gone sailing off into the blue had it not been for the strong grip Miltiades had on his belt. An eagle wheeled past with a startled expression.

"Listle, I see a meadow not far ahead," the skeletal paladin said calmly.

The elf nodded. "I'm aiming for it."

The wind whipped Kern's hair wildly about.

"Here we go!" Listle cried, pulling on the pair of tassels that helped her steer the carpet.

Kern tightened his grip on the golden fringe. The tree tops flew by mere inches below. He could see the meadow now, perhaps a quarter mile ahead.

"We're not going to make it!" he yelled over the roar of the wind.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Listle snapped. She concentrated on keeping the magic carpet steady. Just a little farther…

Suddenly a dead tree loomed before them, stretching its gnarled limbs higher than the surrounding foliage. Listle jerked hard on the tassels. There was a loud sound of rending cloth as a sharp branch punched through the fabric.

"The carpet's unraveling!" Kern shouted as they plummeted toward the clearing.

Sure enough, a thread from one end of the carpet had caught on the dead tree, and now the magical silk was unwinding behind them like a skein of yarn. The three had to crowd closer as the surface area of the flying carpet rapidly dwindled.

Listle yanked even harder on the golden tassels. The carpet managed to stay aloft for only a few more seconds. Then the last of the thread ran out.

Kern, Listle, and Miltiades fell through the air…

… and landed a half-second later on soft, dry, sweet-smelling grass.

Confused, Kern sat up, wondering why he hadn't been knocked dead by the fall. A glistening thread of silk settled slowly to the treetops, its end draped down over a dazed-looking Listle.

"The carpet managed to bear our weight until we were only a few feet above the ground," Miltiades offered in answer to their bewildered looks.

Listle sighed as she picked up one end of the silken thread. "I think this is it for the magic carpet," she said glumly. "Unless knitting also happens to be one of a paladin's special skills."

"I doubt it," Kern said with disdain.

The three gathered their scattered possessions. With a few magical words, Miltiades restored their three horses to their natural form. Kern's palfrey and Listle's gray pranced and snorted excitedly, apparently no worse the wear for having been miniaturized. Eritophenes, of course, was quite used to the experience.

They rode across the dun-colored meadow toward the snow-topped mountains. Now that they were here, Kern wondered how they would ever find Evaine. He and Listle discussed their options. Daile had said the scene revealed by Miltiades' communication gem lay close to the center of the mountains, so that gave them a general direction. Once they were in the actual vicinity, Listle thought she could whip up some spells to help them locate the sorceress.

Throughout this discussion, Miltiades had been quiet, but now the undead paladin spoke up.

"We will find her," he said confidently. "I will know when she is near."

However, just how he would know, he did not say. Listle and Kern exchanged a curious glance.

The sun was sinking toward the western horizon when they reached the forest that blanketed the lower slopes. Deciding it would be best to camp among the shelter of the trees, they decided to press on a bit farther. They guided their mounts down a winding trail, past silent stands of fir and ghost-pale aspen.

They had not gone far when sharp, ringing sounds broke the sylvan stillness. All three knew the familiar clangor of steel on steel. There was a battle going on not far ahead.

"Come on!" Kern cried, urging his mount into a gallop.

"Kern, shouldn't we be a little more cautious?" Listle called after him, to no avail. Muttering a few choice words about his lack of common sense, she rode after him, Miltiades close behind.

Moments later they burst into a circular glade open to the slate-gray sky. Kern halted for a second, taking in the scene.

A frail old man was battling a huge misshapen creature. Even as Kern watched, the old man's blade-a heavy, antique broadsword-clashed loudly with the creature's spiked club. Somehow, the old man was managing to hold his own. He was wizened and ancient-looking, his flowing hair and beard as white as ivory. He wore no armor, only a simple robe of dove gray. Even at this distance, Kern could see his sharp blue eyes sparking like steel against a whetstone.

The creature bellowed. With its massive, ten-foot frame, warty hide, and blazing purple eyes, Kern guessed it to be an ogre. The monster raised its huge club for a crushing blow.