Кейт Новак - The Wyvern's Spur

Cat ran to catch up to Giogi as he strode out into the center of the courtyard. She touched his arm, but he wouldn’t look at her.

“I love you,” she said.

Giogi whirled around angrily. “If you loved me, you would stay here as I’ve asked you.”

“Why? So I can die of a broken heart like your mother did?”

“Don’t say that,” Giogi snapped.

“I’m not the sort of woman who can sit around and wait, Giogi, unless I’m sitting around and waiting with you. Mistress Ruskettle is right, you know. We’re better off if we look after each other. Isn’t that what Wyvernspurs are supposed to do?”

The anger in Giogi’s heart melted away, leaving only a sad feeling that, having just met and fallen in love, they might both die. “We should say good-bye here,” he said softly. “We may not get another chance.”

Cat laughed unexpectedly. “I’ve never seen you so grim. Adventurers never say good-bye. They say, ‘’Til next season.’ What we should do is kiss each other good luck.”

“We should,” he agreed, his heart lightening a little. Giogi pulled Cat close to him, and they wrapped their arms around one another.

“Has he transformed yet?” Drone asked Olive again, impatiently.

“No,” Olive said with a quiet sigh, stepping away from the telescope.

“What is he waiting for?” Drone looked out the window. “Well, can’t begrudge them that,” he muttered, tucking a scroll into his shirt.

“I don’t suppose you have a plan?” Olive asked hopefully.

“As you said, Ruskettle, it’s out of my hands.”

“Then what is that scroll for?”

“If they’re very lucky, I might have an opportunity to interfere. If they’re very unlucky …” Drone let his words trail off.

“Then what?” Olive asked.

“Then I will have no choice but to interfere.”

The halfling and the wizard looked back down on the courtyard. Cat stood alone in the center. She held the finder’s stone so that Giogi’s flight would not be made in complete darkness.

Giogi had taken wyvern shape and was already aloft. He flew in a low glide toward the mage, snatched her up gently in his talons and spiraled upward, beating his wings heavily. When he’d cleared the towers, he flew away from the castle until he reached the edge of the massive rock that hung over Redstone. He spiraled up again and was lost to view.

It’s as if we fell off the edge of the world and now we’re trying to get back on top, Giogi thought as he climbed through the cold spring evening air to reach Flattery’s fortress. He was several thousand feet above Immersea. Hundreds of miles to the west the nobleman could see the Storm Horn Mountains as dark purple silhouettes against the twilight sky. The flying rock obstructed his view to the east.

Finally he reached the top. The moon hadn’t risen yet, but the finder’s stone shone out like a beacon, illuminating the vast desert plain that lay before them. Red boulders were strewn across the red-brown sand. As they drew closer to the center of the plain, Giogi sighted other things scattered in the sand—corpses, thousands of them, arranged in orderly rows. Then the fortress wall appeared in the stone’s light and Giogi pulled up to fly above it. Mother Lleddew had not exaggerated; it was twice as high as the wall about Suzail.

He swooped downward once they cleared the fortress wall. Bodies lay within the inner ward, but these were not neatly stacked. They lay in untidy piles. Even in the cold night air, they smelled strongly of decomposition. Giogi found a clear spot of sand, swooped low, and released Cat. He skidded to a stop several yards away.

The enchantress caught up to him by the time he’d shrunk back to his human shape. She handed back the finder’s stone.

“Why are all these bodies here?” Giogi whispered, holding the crystal high overhead to get a better view of the inner ward.

“These are food for the ghasts and ghouls,” Cat explained.

“And the bodies outside?”

“Held in reserve to be changed to zombies as needed.”

Giogi shuddered.

“I wonder where all the undead are,” Cat mused. “He can’t have used all of them to attack you at Selûne’s temple. Not all of them will go out in daylight.”

“I’d rather not find either kind,” Giogi said. “Which way to Flattery?”

“To the keep” Cat said.

Giogi followed the mage as she threaded her way through the piles of carrion. The keep was a second fortress within the first. A turret rose from each corner, and the roof was lined with crenellated parapets. Giogi estimated the main building to be four stories high, but it was hard to tell exactly, because the keep had no windows. A pair of iron doors at ground level stood wide open. Cat reached for his hand, and they entered together.

They stood at one end of a long, wide corridor, bare of any ornamentation. Sconces holding torches lined the walls, but the torches had burned down to stumps. Giogi held the finder’s stone above his head again. It sent a beam of light down the full length of the empty corridor. The light struck a second pair of iron doors.

“Dismal place,” Giogi muttered as he and Cat walked toward the white doors. “No wall hangings. No furniture.”

“Only Flattery and the undead dwell here,” Cat explained. “The undead have no joy in decoration.”

“What about Flattery?”

“Flattery only delights in power.”

“Did you live here?”

Cat nodded.

“How could you stand it?”

“Until yesterday, being in your home, I had no notion of living any better,” Cat said. She pushed at one of the doors before them.

The door opened into a great chamber whose ceiling rose to the full height of the keep. At the far end, a pair of braziers flickered red near the base of a dais. Aunt Dorath sat beside one of the braziers. She was not restrained by chain or rope. She looked very frightened, and her hair had gone completely gray.

Atop the dais, on a throne made of human bones, sat the wizard Flattery, a faint reddish glow surrounded his body. Amberlee lay on a pillow at his feet, inside a shimmering globe two feet across. On either side of the dais, in the shadows, disfigured shapes milled about and darker shadows flickered with excitement.

Giogi dropped Cat’s hand and strode into the room. Flattery laid a threatening finger on the globe holding Amberlee. “Hold,” he commanded. Giogi halted.

“Giogioni Wyvernspur, you were wise to come,” the wizard said. “You, Catling, will pay for your treachery. As you can see, Giogioni, your kin are alive. My minions—” He motioned to the flickering shadows on either side of the dais—“hate them. Especially the brat. You will note I’ve taken special precautions to protect her from their life-draining touch. Unfortunately, your aunt got out of control and I had no choice but to let one of my ghosts deal with her. You can hardly object to her damaged condition, considering all the use you’ve had of my wife. Come here, Catling,” he ordered.

“The lady is not part of the deal, Flattery,” Giogi retorted hotly. “She’s returning with me. You free Amberlee, Aunt Dorath, and Cat, and I will give you the spur.”

Flattery laughed. “You’re a fool, Giogioni. Get over here, witch!” he shouted at the mage. “You’ve got three seconds before I make this infant wraith food. Don’t leave that sack behind. Bring it with you.”

Cat picked up the sack of magic she’d tried to leave behind Giogi. “You’re better off without me,” she said to Giogi as she passed him by, hurrying to Flattery’s side. Giogi could see her eyes brimmed with tears.

“No,” Giogi whispered.

“Don’t waste your breath,” Flattery said. “I’m the only one who can give her what she wants. Isn’t that right, Catling?” the wizard asked, yanking on the mage’s hair.