Gryphon

by Crawford Kilian

  The castle was shaking on its solid foundation of rock. A great chunk of ceiling crashed down behind Teron, sending gouts of dust into the air. A side wall shivered, a great crack appearing in it.

  Davok stopped suddenly, reaching to his side for the sword ho longer there. From a side corridor came three guards, two carrying spears, the third a naked sword.

  “Korox leads! Davok dies!” one of them shrieked out an ancient formula.

  Juggling Bator’s weight, Teron swung up his spellstaflF and sent a fine beam of light at the sword upraised to slash down at Davok. The guard cursed and dropped the sword as heat ran up into its handle. The other two guards turned and ran, stumbling over the long shafts of their spears.

  Evenly matched now, Davok roared out a challenge and charged at the unarmed guard. He caught the man around the middle, swirled him over his head and. threw him against the nearest wall. The man flopped soggily to the floor and lay still. Davok plunged on toward the doors, stopping only to take a sword and to pull a spear from the wall.

  The floor of the castle heaved like a sea working up to a storm. Teron staggered after Davok and Eldra. Davok opened the doors and they raced into the courtyard. Ahead still lay the long drawbridge over the chasm of the moat.

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  Frightened guards raced mindlessly around, shouting to one another, stumbling over their weapons, falling heavily to the dirt of the yard. In the distance the last of the Whitelanders could be seen disappearing toward the shore. Teron felt Bator wriggle in his arms. He set him down.

  “Can you walk?”

  “I can. Eliff has given me strength.” He paused.

  “Spellmaker, look!”

  Teron faced the moat. Korox stood at the near end of the drawbridge, flanked by a small contingent of guards. A hot wind swirled his robe about his lean body. In the near distance, off to the left, great gouts of smoke and flame battered the air. A dark cloud arose and was shattered by a swift-striking shaft of light The cloud re-formed itself high in the air and plunged downward again with appalling speed.

  “What have you done, madman?” Davok shrieked at Korox.

  Korox’s eyes Were great coals burning in his twisting face. His hands lifted, clawed, to the skies. From his mouth came a string of incomprehensible incantations. Without understanding the words, Teron knew that he was crying for the drig to aid him.

  Davok drew back his spear and sent it shooting forward at Korox’s chest. Before it could reach him, a dark shape swirled up out of nowhere. The spear struck the darkness and flattered to the floor of the drawbridge.

  Eldra drew a deep breath and raised both arms straight out from her body. Her eyes closed and she swayed. Teron could feel a violent pull on that part of him joined to her and he opened himself.

  Light blossomed and raced downward to meet the darkness shielding Korox. A great burst of color blinded Teron. When he could see again, Korox and the guard with him were staggering, struggling, to the edge of the drawbridge. Screams rose as they tumbled over into the deep chasm. Teron had a glimpse of Korox’s robe fluttering; then it was gone.

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  Davok and the others raced for the bridge. One of

  the towers crashed into the moat. The bridge swayed wildly. Teron was last, having to stop and sweep up the staggering Bator a second time.

  Davok was first to reach solid land. The others had barely joined him when the top half of the second bridge began swaying outward. They turned and ran on, seeking the top of a nearby hill.

  Eldra collapsed as they reached it. The others fell beside her, panting. They looked back toward what had once been the proud castle of Fenn.

  From here they could see the battle clearly. The dark cloud of drig had grown smaller, thinner, so that in some places it was almost transparent. The brightness made by the massed liffi was dimming. But it found strength enough to make a final darting stab at the cloud. The drig shattered. Only when they were far away did they form again. Then they fled, disappearing over the far horizon. The liffi followed, dimming as they moved out of sight.

  “The drig will be driven into Udrig’s prison,” Eldra said. ‘The liffi will seek safety where they can strengthen themselves. Both can be called again.”

  He sensed her disappointment that the liffi had not destroyed the drig. “Few battles are ever fully won,” Teron said softly. He looked at the landscape. Molten earth had begun to solidify. The castle itself was little more than a mass of rubble, with only one piece of tower remaining upright.

  “A fight between Eliff and Udrig themselves would destroy Zarza,” he said.

  “True,” Eldra admitted, “unless Eliff could first drive Udrig into space and there smash him to nothingness.”

  She touched Teron’s hand almost shyly. “And that is what we must do, find that strength for Eliff.”

  “What more can we do than weve already done?” he demanded. “We found the secret of the verses and Eliff sent us his liffi. What could we do to help Eliff himself?”

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  She said, “Perhaps we need only give him strength. Even as the drig roam Zarza, seeking strength to take back to Udrig in his prison, perhaps the liffi can do the same for Eliff.”

  From beside them, Davok cried, “These words are so much wasted breath. Look there!”

  They stared toward the mountains, following the line of his pointing finger. And small in size from the distance but still distinct Was Korox astride a sahr. “He rides die trail to Erul” Teron said.

  “Impossible! I saw him fall into the moat. With my very eyes, I saw him!” Davok bellowed.

  Eldra took Teron’s hand and closed her eyes. Teron signaled for Davok and the still half-conscious Bator to remain silent. She was away from them until well after Korox was out of sight Finally she roused herself and looked around.

  “You reached the mind of Korox?” Teron asked.

  She nodded wearily. “So bent is he on reaching the safety of the mountains that he left his mind unguarded.” Her mouth curled in distaste. “I saw his many thoughts all too clearly.

  “He is mad and yet not mad. In him there is a terrible lust for power. He goes now to Erul to enlist the aid of Roosk.”

  Davok snorted loudly. “What can that false magician do? His only clever trick was spying for Fenn—and even then he accepted our promises as payment!”

  “The thoughts were not clear in Korox’s mind,” Eldra said. “But the help from Roosk has to do with his windbag.”

  “Even though it served Roosk as a spy’s perch, you said he could fly it no further than the width of Erul,” Teron reminded her.

  “I know,” she agreed. “But I saw the basket that hangs from the bag. It was sharp and clear in Korox’s mind. And Roosk was with him.” She hesitated and added, “And Korox was thinking of the Whitelands: he pictured the dark, cold cliffs and the frozen, white rain.” She

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  drew a shuddering breath. “I felt Korox gloating. His mind was filled with hatred of all we hold in love: Erul, Zarza, and the many people themselves. He had a vision, and this I shared with him. A vision of Udrig free from his prison, and of Korox standing mighty. Korox controlling Udrig, making him destroy all that Korox hates.”

  Davok swore thickly. “If there is one man evil enough to destroy Zarza to satisfy his own hatred, it is Koroxl To think that I trusted him for so long, that I had him help mel”

  He shuddered as if struck by sudden cold. “But that could not have been Korox we saw riding into the mountains. It was his spirit. I myself saw him die!”

  “No,” Eldra said, “you saw him fall into the moat. But just as the drig protected him from your spear point, so did they catch him as he fell and lift him out of danger. Korox lives, and he seeks a way to get to the Whitelands, to destroy the Guardians of the Gate, to free Udrig.”

  “Then,” Teron said simply, “we have to go to the Whitelands ourselves and stop Korox.”r />
  “How?” Davok demanded. “With what weapons? You found the secret of the verses and they brought only liffi. How can liffi stand against Udrig once he is free from his prison?”

  “I don’t know,” Teron said. “I only know we must go and quickly.”

  XIV

  DAVOK HELD THE TOXEB of the cockleshell they had been told was a seaworthy boat. Behind them, the barren shore of Fenn was lined with fisher folk angry because the Whitelanders had taken many of their craft to sail homeward; and angrier when Davok had taken one more of their precious boats.

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  Teron had sought to mollify them with promises. If all went well, their boats would be returned; if not, then neither they nor any others on Zarza would have need of boats. But this last observation he kept to himself. It was nothing to tell unhappy people, half starving already and terrified by the awesome destruction of the castle.

  So far his seamanship was the best tiling Teron knew of Davok. The warlord had a steady hand on the tiller and a thorough knowledge of navigation. Teron had often been a passenger on water craft in the course of his wanderings, and now and again he had to help raise sail or pull an oar, but he would have been hard put to sail to the Whitelands himself with only Eldra for crew. She had voluntarily gone into the tiny cabin to prepare a meal in the odorous galley.

  Davok turned to Teron. “Do you think it wise, spell- maker, to have sent Bator to Erul with the scroll? What if he should overtake Korox and lose the scroll to him?”

  “If that had happened, Eldra would have read the gloating in Korox’s mind,” Teron answered. “No, Bator must be safe enough.”

  The tide ran against them so their progress toward tiie southern headland of the Whitelands was slow. But the wind continued in their favor. The closer he came to the mysterious frozen land that prisoned Udrig the less Teron understood its name, Whitelands. All he could see was dull gray black rock standing high and hostile in the Cold Sea.

  “If the weather holds,” Davok said, “we should reach Noreth, the capital, well before those traitors, Korox and Roosk. I want a hand in preparing a welcome for them.”

  “They cornel” Eldra called as she dashed out of the cabin. “I sought and found Korox, and the shield about his mind is so strong now it frightens me, but I knew his closeness even so. Look up!”

  All three of them peered at the sky. A small object moved in the cloudless sky behind them. Teron recog

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  nized Roosk’s windbag immediately. And when it passed over them, not more than a hundred yards overhead, Teron caught one glimpse of Korox’s malevolent face peering over the edge of the basket.

  “How can this be?” Eldra wondered. “Roosk’s windbag never traveled such a distance before. The hot air that made it rise cooled and it had to descend. Now, if we can believe our eyes, he and Korox have flown like birds over mountains, over Fenn and almost across the Cold Sea.”

  “Magic!” Davok growled. “Korox and his cursed drig!”

  “Possibly,” Teron agreed, “but there may be another explanation.” He hadn’t taken his eyes off the windbag since he’d first spotted it in the sky. “Of coursel Why has no one thought of it before! See the smoke coming from the basket they ride in. They have a fire to keep the air in the bag warm. It doesn’t cool, so they don’t fall.”

  “Bring them down with your spellstaff!” Davok demanded.

  “Unless we are directly attacked or I fight foT my

  very life, I cannot use the spellstaff to destroy another’s existence,” Teron said.

  “If they reach the Whitelands first, spellmaker, I doubt not your life will be the stake. And ours, too,” Davok said.

  “Eldra and I will go into the cabin and see if our joined strength can pierce the shield of Korox’s mind. Knowledge of his plans would be valuable.”

  Davok shrugged and occupied himself with steering the boat as they went into the cabin’s fug. They had barely entered when a cry from Davok turned them toward the hatch. Before they could return to the deck, the boat lifted up and slammed down viciously onto the water. The hull heaved wildly beneath them. It rose up and twisted sideways and slammed down again.

  Teron thrust his head out to see a great wave sweep over the bow and send a spray of cold water rushing across the tiny deck. Davok clung to the tiller, water

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  streaming from him, his features twisted in fear. The dark, fanglike cliffs of the Whitelands dashed at them, a gap in their center revealing a deep calm bay.

  Teron looked upward into great dark clouds. Lightning slashed and winds howled. He saw that the water behind them was still placid, with the late sunshine resting lightly on the tips of gentle waves.

  He fought his way to Davok, grasped a rope and lashed Davok to the tiller. “Do your best,” he cried. “Eldra and I will try to stay the storm.”

  “That accursed Korox sent it!” Davok howled.

  “Those are drig above,” Teron agreed. He tinned and struggled back to the cabin, needing all his strength to close the hatch against the wind.

  Eldra was holding onto the bolted down table. “Korox’s doing?”

  He nodded. “If we can force die drig back, we can reach the bay ahead. I don’t think Korox will delay long enough to lay another snare for us. He will bend every effort to reach Noreth before we do.”

  She held out one hand. “We must call for liffi. Let us hope Eliff has enough strength to send all we need.”

  “We need no liffi,” Teron told her. “You cast a small rain spell the day Davok captured us. Make the Seventh’s sun spell, Eldra.”

  Her fingers closed tightly on his hand. “Give me your strength then," she said. She did not mention the fear of failure.

  Teron clasped Eldra’s hand and stood motionless, surrendering himself. He neither heard nor saw her, but deep within himself he knew that his strength was flowing into her and that the spell she was casting would succeed.

  When consciousness returned, he found Eldra crying softly. She stood at the open hatch, sunlight flooding around her. The little boat rode on a gentle sea.

  She turned and smiled at him with a radiance as bright as the sunshine making a halo about her head. “We’re in the bay.”

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  He kissed her lightly. “You no longer have to fear that

  you lack the powers of a true Seventh,” he said.

  “Not as long as I have your strength to draw on,” she replied.

  The realization of her dependence on him, of her love for him, was like a hard blow against his unprotected mind. To face danger together, to fight for Eliff because they must was one thing. Their relationship on the personal level was another. Teron wasn’t sure whether it was the loss of personal freedom or the responsibility her need for him imposed which frightened him most “Teron...”

  From the deck, Davok bellowed, “Harbor ahead!” For the first time Teron appreciated Davok’s presence fully.

  He and Eldra went onto the deck. Ahead, rising and falling on the soft swells of the bay, were the Fenn fishing boats the Whitelanders had used to return home. Beyond the small fleet of boats was a wide, inviting opening in the sheer face of the dark, stone cliff.

  Davok grinned fiercely. “That was a fine spell. You should have seen the clouds run and the sun come bursting through. A fine spell!”

  “The powers- of a Seventh will always be stronger than those of Udrig’s servants,” Teron said.

  “That’s the first truly sententious remark I ever heard you make,” Eldra murmured.

  “But the words impressed Davok,” he replied.

  “And you feel a need to impress Davok? Is he our ally now?”

  “He’ll decide that soon,” Teron said. “I’d rather have him with us than against us. His only true sin is greed for material things. There are worse.”

  She touched his hand. “My lover is also wise.”

  He
winced at the endearment. “Also?”

  “You have other qualities,” she murmured.

  Davok growled, “You can canoodle later. Right now, tell me, do we go into that rock?”

  “Straight in,” Teron said. “I’ll guide from the bow.”

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  He said to Eldra. “If you can reach ahead with your mind.”

  Then he stood in the bow, spellstaff in hand, his eyes fixed on the opening in the cliff. They approached it swiftly on a following breeze. The cleft closed around them. Teron looked up at cliff walls so high he had to crane his neck to see their tops. And ahead the channel narrowed, giving him a prisoned feeling. The breeze had dropped, and a strong current was pushing them onward. The channel turned, and Davok maneuvered with skill to keep the craft from scraping against the rock on their port side.

  Teron glanced back. “Eldra?"

  “I feel nothing exact,” she said. “Only a sense of wrongness, a darkness I cannot pierce.”

  “Korox,” Davok rumbled.

  “More,” Eldra said. “I feel. . She broke off. “Teron, look up!”

  He lifted his head. The paralysis of surprise gripped him. Coming straight down at their boat was a boulder fully half its size. The hushing blackness of it blanked out the sky. Even if it missed the boat, the wash would swamp them.

  Breaking free of his paralysis, Teron lifted his spell- staff and sent a powerful beam straight at the hurtling rock. The boulder shattered, sending smoking shards shrieking through the air.

  “Down!” Teron cried. “Cover your heads!”

  They flattened to the deck as bits of smoking rock rained about them. When the last piece had fallen, Teron leaped up afld cupped his hands to his mouth. “Hold up there! The Seventh of Erul is in this boat!”

  “You lie!” a deep voice answered. “Return to Fenn with your impostor.” The speech was Dulean, the accent thick with Whitelander rhythms.

  “Fenn is no more,” Teron cried. “Those who would release Udrig have come here. We seek to stop them.”

  His formalized speech failed to do what he had hoped. Another boulder screamed down toward them. Teron