Richard Knaak - The Citadel

“I thought revenge was Sargonnas’s domain.”

“I don’t want revenge; I want only to rescue my beloved!”

Again Tyros felt a twinge of jealousy, which annoyed him. Why should it bother him that Serene loved another? “Did they conscript him into the army?”

She shook her head, sending locks of scarlet flying. “That would’ve been a waste. They must’ve wanted his work. You see, he was a mage like you.”

Tyros nearly dropped his wine. A flying citadel, gargoyles, and yet another missing wizard. How many had this Cadrio captured? “His work. Why would that be important?”

“He was studying the flying citadels.”

The mage stiffened. He knew that others had been attempting the same as him, but still it surprised Tyros to hear that someone else had been researching the devilish castles. Small wonder, then, that this other wizard’s work might have been of interest to Takhisis’s minions. “But how would they have known about him?”

She shrugged. “He wrote letters, corresponded with others. Word likely reached General Cadrio through one of your order. I’m sorry, but you Red Robes are not known for your undying loyalty to the cause of good, Tyros.”

The mage refrained from defending himself. He had nearly given his life to defeat the Dark Queen’s warriors, and so whatever slurs fell upon his order, they did not apply personally. Yet still it bothered him to hear it from her. “So you think Cadrio kidnapped him so that he could make use of his knowledge.”

The robed woman nodded. “I do, though I’ve no reason save that Cadrio might be hoping to raise another citadel. In fact, now that he’s lost one and his last is crippled, that could be urgent!”

“You may be right. It certainly gives one something to think about.” It didn’t explain why General Cadrio would need one of Leot’s order, though. Admittedly, another red wizard might have been swayed to help, but certainly not a follower of Solinari. Perhaps Leot had been taken by mistake.

Did that mean his friend was dead now?

“I’ve told you everything,” Serene commented, not noticing his darkening expression. “Now I ask you again: Do you know where Cadrio might have gone?”

He nodded. “I think they sailed to the New Sea, but it probably would be a waste of your time to go there now.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I believe that he’ll be back here before long. He won’t accept that Gwynned slipped from his grasp.”

“He’d be a fool! Sunfire would be even more eager to bring down his last castle!” The cleric hesitated. “Still, from what I’ve learned of Cadrio, you might be right. He might come back … this time stronger.” She frowned. “But I can’t wait for him to come back. It might be too late by then. It might already be too late. I have to go on and hunt him down!”

“You think they keep them in the remaining citadel?”

“I have to hope! If the prisoners were kept in the one that was destroyed, then both the ones we seek are dead!”

Tyros felt far more concern for Leot than for Serene’s paramour, and not simply because the former had been his friend. Trying to remain focused, he looked into her eyes and said, “You went to Sunfire to see if he would fly you to the citadel.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly. “Yes … that’s what I wanted.”

“You would have died.”

“I didn’t know what else to do at the time.” Tears threatened to flow.

Truth be told, neither did Tyros. He sat there, watching Serene struggle with her emotions and finding himself wanting to comfort her. It was hardly what his studies had trained him, for and hardly his place, either.

The cleric wiped her eyes, then suddenly rose. “I thank you for your time, Tyros Red Robe. You’ve told me what I need to know. I won’t be bothering you any more.”

“I’m sorry,” the mage returned, also rising. He didn’t want her to leave, but he had no other help to offer her. “If I knew a method other than the dragons, then I’d certainly tell you. As it is …”

Serene looked at him. “No need for that. I’ve another way to get there-not the one I would have chosen, but it will have to do. All I needed from you was Cadrio’s whereabouts.”

Tyros stared, startled. “You’ve another way to reach the citadel?”

“Yes, but it’s for me alone, wizard.”

He refused to accept that, thinking not only of her but of the one chance he might have to rescue Leot. That … and the tantalizing opportunity to see a working citadel from the inside. Tyros confronted the cleric. “I have to get up there. I want to come with you.”

“You won’t like it.”

“Why?”

She hesitated, then indicated he should sit back down. Tyros sat reluctantly, awaiting her explanation.

Serene pursed her lips. “I have a friend, Tyros, who has the means to reach the flying citadel. He offered before, but I refused, thinking the dragons would help. Now I see he’s my only hope.”

“Is it that dangerous?” The wizard envisioned flying on the back of some demon or worse.

Curiously, the beautiful cleric smiled. “Depends on what you call dangerous … and I’m referring to my friend, not the transport.”

* * * * *

Valkyn stood at the rail of the centermost of the balconied windows, the wind caressing his face. His hair and skin had returned to their normal look, with only a faint bit more gray at the temples. A slight flush of pleasure colored his cheeks. Above him, thunder briefly rumbled, as if acknowledging his greatness. He beamed, genuinely pleased by all that he had accomplished. The thrill of magical discovery touched him as nothing and no one could.

Castle Atriun slowly moved along, so high that few, if any, likely noticed its passing. Down in the courtyard, the battlements, and the garden, the gargoyles, too, savored the wind, their wings outstretched, their beaked muzzles lifted high to catch the scents. Stone, perched atop the tallest tree, looked up at his master, but Valkyn shook his head, desiring nothing. Besides, if the mage thought of a task, he would send Crag first. Stone might be the smarter of the two, but Valkyn trusted the larger gargoyle to obey to the letter. Stone had an independent streak that sometimes proved very useful but occasionally bordered on rebellion.

Valkyn sensed someone behind him. He turned to see two shadowy figures, vaguely human forms shrouded in cloaks that obscured all but hints of their identity.

“You have something to report?” he asked cheerfully.

One shifted.

“Yes, I thought it might be about time. I’ll be with you before long.”

They dipped their hooded heads slightly, then backed away, vanishing into the darkness of Castle Atriun’s interior.

Valkyn glanced once more into the sky. At the rate the citadel flew, they would arrive at their destination in a matter of days. Cadrio would arrive two, possibly three days later.

Cadrio. Valkyn admired the man’s ambitions, if at times the general had too dour a personality. Still, as long as the general did what he was told, the wizard would let him play at being emperor. Cadrio looked to be the sort who would keep everything under control in return for Valkyn’s guidance. If the general remained satisfied to rule in earthly matters, then there would be no trouble. Valkyn could expand his research, go about attempting new and wondrous experiments. However, he would brook no insubordination. If Cadrio proved too untrustworthy, he could readily be replaced.

Valkyn’s teachers had never understood his thinking. When he had chosen the robes of Lunitari, it had been a simple matter of expediency. White had never suited him, and black, at the time, would have meant that some doors would have remained shut, mostly out of distrust. He wore black now only because it made his ally more comfortable. As far as Valkyn was concerned, one robe meant as little as another. The followers of Nuitari spent too much time bowing and scraping to Takhisis, which made absolutely no sense. The three gods of magic had purposely distanced themselves from the rest, creating a core pantheon devoted entirely to the advancement of their interests, and Valkyn felt that he of all his brethren understood that best. That he now followed the path of Nuitari seemed to him no different; it only meant that he had been forced to adjust his spells a bit to account for a different moon.