me.”
“What gets me,” Flinn mused, rubbing his shaved chin and smoothing his trimmed moustache, “what gets me, is just what this mage was doing with Verdilith as Lord Maldrake. What could he gain? Did he know-”
Brisbois opened the door then, accompanied by a short, nervous man-the man who had led Yvaughan into the council area earlier that day. He carried a buff-colored bird in the crook of his arm. Flinn stood slowly, pushing his chair back as he did. Jo followed his example, one hand resting on her sword, and moved into position next to Flinn. She pulled on her blade, letting it rest an inch or two out of the scabbard’s top. The man might be a powerful mage, but she would protect Flinn regardless of what happened, even at the cost of her life. Dayin huddled in Karleah’s arms, and the dwarf stood near the two protectively. Braddoc fingered his battle-axe.
“Sir Flinn,” Brisbois was saying, his voice heavy with irony, “may I introduce you to Teryl Auroch? He was just leaving the castle, but some guards helped me ‘persuade’ him to call on you first.” He nodded his thanks to three or four men standing in the hall and then closed the door.
The mage stepped farther into the room, his brilliant blue eyes averted. In one hand, he nervously held the bird, while the other hand carried a valise. He was wearing a fur-lined traveler’s cape. Jo counted it fortunate that Brisbois had caught the man in time. “You wished to see me, Master-er-Sir Flinn?” Teryl Auroch asked. His words were smoothly polished, without inflection, but to Jo they sounded disdainful.
“Yes, Master Auroch,” Flinn added his own emphasis to the man’s lesser title. “I will be hunting Verdilith in the morning, and I want to know the extent of your involvement with the dragon as Lord Maldrake.”
The short man shrugged nonchalantly, and then shook as if suddenly cold. “Like Sir Brisbois, I was enchanted-”
“You were not!” Brisbois yelled hotly.
“Brisbois!” Flinn shouted. “Mind your place!” Brisbois glowered at Flinn but then stepped away. Flinn turned back to the mage. “Continue, please.”
“I was enchanted by the dragon,” Auroch said. “Now that Lord Maldrake has disappeared, I am once more in command of myself. I am traveling south to Specularum to find a position there.”
Flinn gestured at Dayin. “And what of your son here?” he asked. Dayin stepped next to Flinn and looked at the mage, tears and hope in his eyes.
A spasm shook Teryl Auroch’s body again, then passed. His brilliant eyes darted more nervously than ever. Jo was convinced he hadn’t even looked at the boy. “My son? I have no idea what you are talking about. I have no son.”
Flinn eyed the mage with distaste, then turned to the boy and touched his arm. “Dayin,” Flinn asked gently, “is this man your father? Think carefully. It has been two years since you saw him.”
Dayin’s blue eyes perused the man who stood before him, silently beseeching the mage to look at him. When the nervous man still didn’t, the boy lowered his head, one quick tear escaping his eyes. “No,” Dayin said in a small voice some moments later, “no, he isn’t my father.”
Jo thought she heard him mutter “anymore” under his breath as he turned back to the comfort of Karleah’s arms. The old woman was watching Auroch with an intensity that would have unnerved many. Auroch, however, seemed oblivious to the wizardess’ scrutiny.
Flinn pointed to the bird Auroch carried. “That bird is the mate to the creature we killed in the great hall today. Why do you have it?”
“How observant you are.” The mage smiled jerkily. “Yes, it is the mate to the other, but far less dangerous, even in its true form. I am taking it with me so that I can dispose of the creature properly. I hope you have no objections?” He gave a tiny, mocking bow.
“Yes, I do,” Flinn responded suddenly. He took a step toward the mage. “As Lady Yvaughan’s former husband, I claim her ‘beloved pet’ as my own. Please give it to me at once.”
The mage pulled the bird tighter to his chest. “This is an evil creature, Sir Flinn, one from a dimension beyond our own world. What could you, a mere knight, do against such a creature should it revert to true form?”
“You said it was less powerful than its mate, which was dispatched easily enough,” Flinn reminded Auroch. He held out his hand. “That bird, and its mate, were gifts from someone years ago. I now believe that person must have been Verdilith in disguise, and for years his pets whispered words of corruption to Yvaughan. She lies in state tonight,” Flinn paused. “I will slay her other nemesis and offer it to her spirit as it departs.” Flinn took another step forward, and Jo followed him. Braddoc circled around the other side of the table, and Brisbois blocked the mage’s exit. Karleah stayed where she was seated, but she pushed Dayin under the table and began muttering under her breath.
Teryl Auroch’s eyes glittered angrily, and his weak chin quivered with rage. “I don’t fear you, Fain Flinn- precious knight of Penhaligon! And unlike Brisbois, I shall not fail my orders!” the mage shouted. One hand shot upward, and he yelled two words of power in an ancient language. Fwoomp! A swirling column of flame appeared between the mage and Flinn. Jo stepped to the knight’s side, her sword drawn.
Wyrmblight lay poised in Flinn’s hands, and Braddoc’s battle-axe gleamed dully in the fiery light.
Auroch’s upheld hand clenched into a fist, and he slowly pushed his fist toward Flinn. The whirling flame began to grow. Slowly it advanced on Flinn. A low, almost inaudible roar began to fill the room. As the whirling column of flame rose and broadened, the roar doubled and redoubled until it sounded like a thousand fires blazing through a forest.
Flinn held Wyrmblight higher and shouted to Braddoc, “Now!” The dwarf threw his axe squarely at the mage. The sharp blade whirled through the air, its keen edge seeking Auroch. Suddenly, the blade struck an aura surrounding the wizard and fell, marring the polished wooden floor. Auroch, oblivious to the attack, began moving the fiery cyclone closer to Flinn.
“Brisbois!” Flinn shouted. “Attack Auroch’s back! Jo, skirt around and join Braddoc. Try to distract the mage!” Flinn cautiously sidestepped to evade the blazing pillar of flame. Ignoring everyone else in the room, Auroch followed the knight’s move, and the whirlwind slowly drove Flinn into a corner.
Jo and Braddoc warily approached the mage. Why isn’t Brisbois attacking? Jo wondered, then signaled to the man when she caught his eye. But Brisbois, his hands trembling with fear, only waved her on. The bondsman held his quivering sword in readiness, but he wouldn’t leave the door. Jo turned to Braddoc. The dwarf gestured toward Brisbois, glowered with his good eye, and then shook his head. Retrieving his battle-axe from the floor, Braddoc positioned himself further to one side of the mage and nodded at Jo. This is it! Jo thought quickly, the excitement of impending battle rushing through her. She ran forward at the same time as the dwarf and swung her sword, aiming for the mage’s knees. Braddoc’s battle-axe sought Auroch’s chest.
An incredible jolt of pain ripped through Jo’s fingers, spreading inside her hands and into her arms. The pommel of her sword felt as though a thousand hot needles protruded from it, and each one seared into her hands. Jo gasped aloud in pain. Her fingers wanted to uncurl and drop the sword, but she forced herself to remember Flinn’s maxim: Keep your blade at all costs, or else you die. Though the pain drove Jo to her knees, she drew her sword back for another stroke. Braddoc was also on his knees; he was struggling to regain the axe he had dropped.
The mage lowered his fist and slowly, carefully, uncurled his fingers, forming his hand into a crescent shape. The fiery column leaped toward Flinn. It arched high above the knight’s head, grazing the wooden rafters. It swelled, becoming as wide as Flinn was tall and then growing wider still. The flames swirled violently, the roar of the fire was deafening. Dishes rattled, drifting off the table and breaking as they met the floor. One window’s panes of glass refused to bear the pressure anymore, and the glass exploded outward.
The heat was growing intense; the candles in the room melted. An unreal, shimmering aura hung in the air, distorting Jo’s vision. The spinning column of fire grew more intense, its color shifting from blazing yellow to lightning white. Jo squinted, her hands still numb from the sword. She climbed shakily to her feet and Braddoc did the same, his battle-axe in hand again. Jo nodded at the dwarf, and they prepared themselves for one more attack. Somewhere behind that wall of flame stood Flinn, trapped.
“Stand back!” shouted the old wizardess above the crackling of the flames. Karleah Kunzay jumped onto the table, suddenly spry for such an ancient woman, and more dishes scattered onto the floor. She stretched out her hands toward the fiery tornado. Blue flames streamed from her fingers, their paths fluctuating wildly but seeking the white flames of Auroch’s conjuration.
Incredibly, Jo watched the blue flames circle and entwine the white tornado. Wind rushed in from the broken window and flung small objects into the air. The intense heat began to subside and was replaced by a strange,
