It was Eric’s turn to look startled, then a little embarrassed, even angry. Maybe resentful. Then something seemed to occur to him. “The dashing man who danced with Anna?”
“Yes,” said Lorian.
“Who is he?” Anna asked. “What does he want?” She blushed after asking and Matt knew what she was thinking because he’d watched them. Cirion couldn’t have been more obvious about one desire and he stifled a smirk.
“One of this world’s would-be heroes,” began the elf, “who try to earn a name with quests. He hides his questionable ways well, understanding appearances. Others of his ilk have demonstrated their misguided attempts to reach the Dragon Gate, which is no doubt his aim as well. Cirion’s mercenaries arrived hours before you and were no doubt unhappy with your arrival, for it should have signaled the end to their aspirations, but it seems they were intent on interfering with you in some way.” He looked at Korrin pointedly.
The big man looked uncomfortable. “But I thought she just…” He trailed off and then flushed, seeming indignant, then angry. Matt had never seen the big guy mad before. He looked especially dangerous standing there in that golden armor, a sword on one hip. Matt knew he was a gentle giant, but if Ryan could learn to put on that face on purpose, that and Korrin’s reputation might stop some people from messing with him.
Anna asked, “What happened? Did I miss something?”
Ryan and Eric exchanged a look, making Matt wonder what passed between them.
“She lured me to her rooms under the guise of…” Ryan hesitated. “Of making me feel better about having killed that man, but Eric stopped me at her door.” Anna let out a slow breath through her nose. Ryan heard it and met her disapproving eyes before looking away. “I’m sorry for wandering off,” he said sincerely. “I know we promised to stick together. It won’t happen again.”
“It had better not,” Anna replied quietly.
Rescuing the knight, Matt changed subjects. “That wizard was asking me how to manipulate the gate, but I didn’t know anything to tell him even if I’d wanted to.”
“Cirion wanted to lead us to the castle,” said Anna, “but I refused him. He also said he’d been inside, not long after the, uh, champions left, but he couldn’t get by some sort of maze. Do you know what we might run into?”
Lorian nodded. “Mostly Dragon Cult members. I suspect Soliander’s traps have been dispelled by whoever opened the Gate. If not, the way will be harder.”
A nearby bird call prompted an elf to enter from the balcony, exchange a look with Lorian, and return. “Attention has begun to focus on your presence here,” said Lorian.
Chapter 7 – Wizardry
As he always did, the dark elf hesitated three strides from the richly carved mahogany door of his master. Fantastic scenes of dragons, knights, and wizards doing battle graced its surface, but none were more heart-stopping than what he had personally seen in the room beyond. Daunting forces had been summoned by the wizard within, and despite the ferocity of each, whether it be demons, wraith lords, or even minor deities, the wizard had commanded obedience. The thought reminded the elf not to falter in his devotion, for an urgent message had arrived at the black, looming castle.
He was a dark elf, so called to distinguish his kind from wood elves, those beings of light and goodness, the very thought of which made his lip curl in a sneer. There was power to be had in darkness, and it was his kind that sought to harness it. Long ago they had given themselves up to it and found their skin turning nightmare black, the hair whiter than the palest moonlight, eyes of blood red staring from their now sinister features. The same delicateness of wood elves remained, but what passed for a tender, supple nose there gleamed sharp like the blade of a dagger here. So, too, with their grace, no longer like a breeze through the trees but like a knife sliding into flesh. Dark things were their province, and yet what lay beyond the door was darker than anything his kin sought. All seemed still at the moment, but that could change in an instant.
Steeling himself for the unknown, he quietly rapped on the door, which opened silently, orange firelight washing over him from within. As he entered, a quick glance confirmed no magic was afoot, though the dark granite floor bore the residue of powdery markings inside a circle of still-flickering candles. Bookcases full of ancient tomes lined two walls, vials, jars, and jugs of every shape filling another. Bright flames roared in the hulking stone fireplace, and an enormous black desk seemed to cast a pall over the room. Behind it sat a slim figure in a dark robe, unremarkable in its lack of adornment, and yet anyone trained in magic would have taken notice of the man at once. The reek of power coming from him struck like a blow.
The sorcerer bent over a large tome, his features lost in the shadows, a dark orb of swirling colors on a small stand beside him. The room was far too dark to read, but the words and drawings were written in light. The dark elf waited for what seemed like an eternity, a line of sweat trickling down his back while he fought to remain still and silent. Only a fool reminded the wizard of their presence. Finally the wizard favored him with a glance.
In a quavering voice, the dark elf said, “My lord, I have important news.”
The master commanded, “Speak it.”
“The Queen of Alunia on Honyn attempted to summon the great Ellorian Champions.”
The sorcerer interrupted in derision. “She’s hardly the only one. Even children attempt this.”
“Yes, my lord,” the dark elf answered, knowing it was a common fantasy of children, “but she was successful.”
The wizard’s head snapped up. “What?”
“She was–”
“I heard what you said,” the robed figure interrupted.
