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
