The Dragon Gate (The Dragon Gate Series Book 1)

by Randy Ellefson

  Chapter 13 – A Ruin Alive

  The dark silhouette of a castle stood out against the night sky, a handful of lights twinkling in its black windows like stars. The moonlight showed no details of it or the surrounding mountains, but the path to it had been easy enough to follow. Below, the dark tree tops of the forest swayed in the night breeze, hiding whatever lay underneath and suggesting the forest teemed with activity. The rustling leaves were audible all the way up here and gave them the creeps.

  As Cirion’s mercenaries watched the castle, a sight they weren’t expecting caught their eyes. Another silhouette, this time of two giant wings attached to a thick body with four legs and a long tail, rose up from within. With powerful strokes, the dragon soared into a nearby cloud to disappear. Relaxing, they realized now might be a good time to get through the gate before it came back.

  The winding road into the mountains had hidden them from the castle’s inhabitants, since trees had claimed what Darlonon abandoned. Likely knowing nothing of fortifications and keeping lines of sight open, the cult members, hired mercenaries, and a handful of ogres, had unknowingly allowed Cirion’s mercenaries to get up here without resistance, but they weren’t the only ones here.

  A young wizard leaned against a boulder to save his strength, not at all happy with how much he’d been relied upon to get past the guards from Olliana. Stationed along the road, the guards barred the way to Castle Darlonon in such a way as to prevent anyone from simply going around them. While the magic he’d used to do so anyway had drained his strength, the exercise had been worse. They’d been running along the road the last few hours, having left the noisy horses behind in a ravine. The others seemed to think his struggles were an annoyance and that he now slowed them down, but without Raith, they wouldn’t have gotten this far, and certainly not before the Ellorians.

  How quickly they forget, he thought to himself darkly.

  He’d enchanted their horses to gallop across the land much faster than biology allowed, moving from Olliana to the ravine far below in record time. Cirion’s surprise at the show of power had been clear, but the wizard had foreseen that. He’d been toting around a new spell book and told their leader that such superior spells came from its pages. That part was true, but he’d really mastered the whole book long ago. Sometimes it was wise to be more powerful than people expected. In fact, it always was.

  Whether stopping time for a minute, making the guards forget them, turning themselves invisible, or some other spell, Raith had shuttled them past everyone so that only the guards at the gate remained. He now claimed he was out of such tricks. Let someone else expend their strength, like Cirion, whose fighting and stealth could lead them forward.

  The rogue peered around a boulder at the open space before the castle. He’d been here before and it hadn’t changed much except for no longer being deserted. Between the tree growth and small landslides that hadn’t been cleared, enough cover existed to reach the closed gates unseen. A big hole in one would let them in, though someone undoubtedly watched it from inside. Through it they saw two ogres pacing back and forth, with more likely out of sight, but there was only one way to tell.

  Cirion gave the signal and they moved ahead.

  He hadn’t really known what to expect, but when Ryan finally laid eyes on the ruined Castle Darlonon high above, his stomach twisted. This was it. They were here. It was real. Lights even shone in some of the windows, though nothing could be made out from here. Maybe that was good. He didn’t want to think about who, or what, waited for them.

  No one had said anything to him about the earlier incident and for that he’d been glad, until now. Part of him felt something was warranted from someone, maybe even himself for his outbursts, but he wasn’t ready. He’d been emoting a “leave me alone” vibe ever since, too, but maybe tensions should have been resolved before they headed inside. Now that he sat there with true peril awaiting, he regretted not smoothing things over. He glanced over at Anna, and on seeing her blank gaze, which seemed unfriendly to him, he flashed a half smile. She nodded and looked away and he sighed.

  Only his family had known who paralyzed Daniel because they’d decided long ago to shield him from others blaming or pitying him. The omission was meant to protect him when he felt undeserving of that anymore. After all, as Daniel’s older brother, it was his job to protect him, and in this he had failed miserably. His parents’ protection had only made him feel more ashamed of what he’d done. That shame drove him to hover over his brother constantly, to protect him, to provide anything he needed. To make amends. He couldn’t help it, even though he knew Daniel didn’t like it. He sighed again, almost relieved the secret was out.

  From the saddle, he watched as the others dismounted, secured their horses, and took what they needed from their packs. The dwarves who’d built the castle had used this tunnel entrance until construction ended, when they magically sealed and concealed it. Even now there seemed to be nothing but yet another jagged rock wall in the cliff face, but that could’ve been just the darkness of night. He took Rognir’s blunt announcement that they’d arrived on faith. No one else seemed perplexed, so Ryan dismounted, remembering to take his helmet and the lance, wondering if there’d be any corners too tight to get the lance around. Maybe he’d have to leave it behind.

  Eric stood gazing up as if looking for a route to climb it, his rock-climbing experience likely making easy work of it, but unless the elves could do that, too, he’d be going alone. The rogue had a sealed pocket in his clothes, with climbing chalk that he’d arrived with. He also had lock picking tools and other devices like a glass cutter in hidden pockets in the leather pants and jacket.

  Matt had been preoccupied since the ogre battle, trying to shrug off his failure to cast a spell. There could’ve been any number of reasons for it, but he knew nerves had been the only reason. The words had been right. He’d looked at them again since and confirmed it. He’d just felt their eyes on him, people wondering what he’d attempt, whether it would work or not, and his mouth had grown dry. His eyes had sought Lorian’s for approval but seen only alarm that he was doing anything. He’d tried to shut it all out, waiting for the power to fill him, but nothing had come, especially not the icy darts he’d expected to shoot through the air. The pressure to do it before the ogre crushed Anna’s head hadn’t helped. Thank God for Lorian, who had since favored him with a smile or two that suggested compassion that Matt resented because it resembled pity. But he wasn’t holding a grudge. The elf meant well.

  Lorian summoned him to the rock wall. “Remember, your staff can detect magic,” remarked Lorian to Matt, who’d learned more about Soliander’s staff, including that it automatically protected him from many things, which was a relief. “Use it to discover the door’s location. It is hidden by illusion.”

  The young wizard nodded. He’d practiced this trick on his magic items in front of his friends so he wasn’t worried. After a moment’s concentration, a rusty and stubborn looking iron door materialized nearby in the rock. Only he could see it until he pointed it out to the others, tracing its shape and describing it to them. Lorian started to approach it when Matt stopped him.

  “Wait,” he said, aware that the detection spell hadn’t abated. “There’s more.”

  The elf cocked an eyebrow. “Can you discern its nature?”

  Matt pursed his lips, but he wasn’t the one who could sense something and the staff wasn’t passing along impressions. “Not really, no.”

  “There is a spell for it. It is called the Omni-Eye and reveals the details of an existing spell. Did you learn it?”

  The wizard remembered seeing it but hadn’t memorized it. He shook his head and the elf made him stand back. Matt watched eagerly, hoping to learn something from the guy he considered the master to his apprentice, but aside from a few gestures, there wasn’t much to see.

  “Interesting,” Lorian remarked. “Anyone who touches the door will be transferred inside the castle to the dungeon and an alarm
beacon will light in several guard rooms.”

  Matt grunted. “You got all that from that? That’s pretty cool. Could we use it to get inside? It would certainly save time.”

  “You mean trigger the spell on purpose?” Lorian asked, eyebrow cocked. “Yes, but we can’t risk the alarm, though it’s unlikely anyone inside would know what it means. Still, being trapped in the dungeon is a real possibility.”

  “True,” the wizard conceded, disappointed. Being teleported places seemed like fun, but that really depended on where you arrived and who was waiting for you. “Can you disarm it?”

  Lorian nodded. “Can you?”

  Matt made a face. “Somehow I knew you’d ask that.”

  The elf stepped aside and added, “Nothing will happen if you fail, so do not be concerned.”

  Except I’ll look stupid, thought the wizard. He shook his head, trying to block out the thought. He had just succeeded a minute ago and still felt good, so he closed his eyes and reached out to the staff. He’d done this many times now but finding the right impulse to awaken required concentration. He searched with his will, blanking his mind and letting his desire guide the staff. At times like this it seemed his lack of concentration helped him, for his mind picked up on the staff’s subtle responses. Images formed in his head and he couldn’t resist focusing on them, which helped him grasp the staff’s power. Opening his eyes, he reached forward with one hand and a ray of light snaked out to engulf the door with a slight flash before retreating into his hand. A twirling ball of light hovered there for just a moment before fading to black and puffing out, smoke curling into the air.

  “Excellent,” Lorian congratulated him. Anna and Eric gave a smattering of applause. Pleased but embarrassed, Matt indicated no other spells were on the door.

  Rognir took the lead, remarking, “This will lead up a slope, through storage rooms, and by several hallways we can ignore, though we had best be wary of anything that’s taken up residence since the castle was abandoned.”

  His comments reminded Matt of role-playing games where monsters lurked in every room and traps could lie anywhere.

  “What about traps?” Ryan asked, watching an elf hand out unlit torches. He donned his golden helmet, leaving the visor raised.

  The dwarf put on his own helmet. “There shouldn’t be any in the lower areas, not from dwarves anyway. I can’t say what the humans did after we built it.” Eyeing the lance, he added, “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Where will we come out?” Eric asked.

  Rognir gruffly answered, “Let us not waste time. You will see soon enough.”

  After heaving the door open, Rognir and Lorian led the way with lit torches, the champions in the middle with Morven right behind, other elves bringing up the rear. Matt remembered to light his staff, experimenting with changing its brightness, radius, and beam. He was starting to think this was all very cool when they soon found their path blocked once again.

  Anna observed, “Somebody really wanted to keep people out.”

  “That somebody was Soliander,” noted Lorian.

  Matt thought that the bluish metal door looked quite new; it had been fused with the stone all around it, not just cut into place. The walls, ceiling, and floor had even bowed inward as if to grasp the door. He saw no handle or hinge. Only a fist-sized, circular hole lay in the center, with several notches cut into the otherwise smooth circle of it. The door looked familiar, though he’d never seen anything like it. Not even realizing why he did it, Matt lowered the staff, placing the lit crystal into the hole. It didn’t fit at first because he hadn’t lined up the prongs holding it, but once he did it slid right into place. The door gave a brief pulse before turning transparent and releasing the staff. He put one hand against it, but his flesh passed right through it because it was now only an illusion.

  “How did you know to do that?” Ryan asked.

  The wizard looked blank, but then a spark of realization lit his eyes. “A hunch. The symbol on the door looks like one I saw during the magic test Lorian gave me, though I don’t understand why.” After a moment, he added, “It also doesn’t explain how I knew what to do.”

  “Something to ponder later,” advised Lorian, gesturing for them to pass through before it closed. They stepped into an empty storage room beyond and the door turned solid behind them. As the others followed Rognir, Lorian quietly observed to Matt, “Only Soliander could make it past that.”

  “Or someone with his staff,” corrected Matt, wondering if the elf was trying to tell him something.

  Like any good medicine, it tasted awful to prevent misuse, and so Cirion choked down the foul tasting stuff with a grimace until the blue vial sat empty. As he lowered the vial, the slash on his forehead disappeared, as did the more troublesome, bloody gash on his sword arm and a smaller one on a leg. Most of those around him were doing the same, for few had escaped the battle unscathed.

  They had made it past the five ogres and the mercenaries beyond the gate but with a terrible price. Four of his men were dead and most of the others were hurt, but the rogue regretted it not. They’d known what they were getting themselves into when they signed up with him and he wouldn’t tolerate any whining about it now. Still, he’d expected better swordplay from several, who at least paid with their own lives, but they had risked his as well. Their ineptness also caused an alarmingly quick reduction in their healing potions. After using up most of what they’d brought, he’d looked to Raith to see if any were hidden in those robes, but the wizard shook his head. Hopefully no more would be needed, but he doubted that. He wasn’t entirely certain the wizard was telling the truth about that, either.

  They stood in the castle’s entrance hall, doors closed behind them. No sounds of running feet came their way thanks to Nola’s quick aim with the crossbow. A robed cult member had gone sprinting between the curving stairs on either side and straight into the castle’s further reaches, but the crossbow bolt had slain him in mid stride. For now, no one knew they were here except the dead, and Cirion intended to keep it that way.

  The flaming tiles he’d encountered last time hadn’t been active in the courtyard, presumably done away with by the current occupants. The stairways, however, were still out of the question due to what was happening on them and had apparently been happening for a long time. With swords, knives, and bows in hand, men dressed much like them stood on the stairs in climbing positions, and yet they moved not at all. Each stood caught in time, alive but forever unmoving. They’d all been here the last time Cirion had, and in fact two of them were his men, and yet they hadn’t moved more than an inch in all that time. The rogue looked longingly at an ornate dagger in one man’s hand, for it was his and had been borrowed shortly before the man became ensnared. He’d resigned himself to never getting it back.

  Cirion gestured toward the guy with a bolt in his back. “That way.”

  Nola and Raith followed, their hired men following, weapons drawn. Ahead stood an archway with two hallways leading right and left to the rest of the castle. The main wing stood straight ahead, but the rogue hadn’t been lying to Anna when telling her a maze lay there. He suspected traps waited everywhere, and while he specialized in getting past them, many would be magical and beyond his skills. A glance showed the young wizard’s lips silently moving as he tried to detect magic along each path. At the very least, they wouldn’t be going straight into that room.

  “Anything?” Cirion asked, realizing the ogre blood dripping from his sword to the floor would leave a trail. He wiped it on an ogre’s shirt.

  “Yes,” the wizard answered. “There’s something in every direction, but more directly ahead. Still, I think we should go forward, even if by another route. The gate is bound to be in a big room in the main wing.”

  Cirion frowned. “Wouldn’t it be hidden in some out of the way place where no one would look for it.”

  “No,” the wizard disagreed. “Remember, the dragons had to be pulled into it, so it must be enormous,
and the only rooms that big are public places.”

  “He’s right,” agreed Nola.

  And Cirion knew she did so reluctantly. Neither of them trusted the wizard. Well, they didn’t trust anyone, but they both thought Raith was hiding something. The show of strength he’d put on to get them here had surprised him. To agree with Raith now probably made her feel like she was playing a part in some machination of his she didn’t understand. That’s how Cirion felt. Beyond the outrage of being duped by someone they’d held in contempt, he knew such things usually ended with the ignorant person dead. It was too bad Nola hadn’t managed to drug Korrin with that sleeping potion after the banquet; that damn Andier ruined that. It would’ve given them a head start of a few days, but thanks to Raith, it seemed they’d arrived first anyway.

  “All right,” Cirion started, “let’s avoid the big halls unless we can see into them before entering. That dragon will be back soon, so let’s get on with our search before we find it sitting between us and the Dragon Gate.” He gestured to a side hallway that hopefully led in the same general direction while providing cover. “This way.”

  He and Raith took the lead, each doing their part to detect traps as Nola and their hired henchman followed. The way seemed clear as they paralleled the big room on one side via a hallway leading further into the castle. Doorways spilled into other rooms, some with spells upon them, but all were empty of life. Down an adjacent corridor lay several skeletons and a more recent corpse with flesh still on it, all with charred clothing. From the next doorway beyond it, a sliver of golden light streamed into the hall. Cirion motioned Nola forward as he listened to men speaking without concern of being overheard.

  “The dragon’s out for her nightly feast,” said a gruff voice, “but she’ll be back soon.”

  “Good thing it’s not one of us,” remarked another, chuckling.