“I needed to locate and destroy the scroll,” he began, “but before I could, they insisted on coming here in an attempt to seal the gate for their own idiotic glory. I came along, hoping to discover what they’d done with the scroll and stop them.”
“And did you learn this thing?”
He feigned a frown. “No.” He knew exactly where the scroll was and had been all along – in one of his robe’s pockets. Cirion didn’t even know it existed.
The dragon was disapproving. “And when were you planning to stop them? It was getting rather late.”
Raith nodded, still feeling a bit charmed by the magnificent beast despite his new allegiance to himself. “They saw you in the sky and thought to work the gate while you were gone. I thought that would be my opportunity.”
“But they have failed,” stated Perndara flatly, “as have you. How did you come to know they possessed the scroll?”
He paused and decided to bolster his lies with some honesty, since he wasn’t coming off as well as he’d have liked. “Dragon Cult members stole it from Olliana at my direction long ago,” he confessed, “so it could be destroyed, but it was lost through foolishness.” He smiled slightly. The thieves had indeed been foolish, for if a man won’t reveal his identity when he hires you, you should expect your death instead of gratitude for a job well done. “When I heard this group had paid a huge sum for a scroll, I surmised they had it and convinced them I could help them here. They soon admitted to the possession but that was all.”
He didn’t admit to hearing rumors of Cirion’s mercenaries having come before but encountered all manner of traps, which was a principal reason he’d used Cirion to get here. Better his men get killed than Raith. Every wizard needed warriors to do grunt work. Even Soliander paraded around with those other champions.
Perndara contemplated and he knew she wasn’t entirely convinced. A long pause followed and he projected a desire to be helpful and pleasing, mixed with fear and awe.
“I sense magic power in you,” observed Perndara approvingly. “You can be of service to me.”
The wizard bowed, wondering where this was headed and flattered despite himself. Stop it, you fool.
“My sources tell me the Ellorians are on their way. I want you to challenge Soliander and keep him occupied.”
Raith hesitated. He might be far stronger than Cirion’s group knew, but he’d not win a direct challenge against that wizard. He only sought a way to achieve his goal before anyone knew what he was doing. He just hoped that whoever had opened the gate hadn’t beaten him to that goal. It clearly wasn’t Soliander and he was ready to fight whoever had done it to the death to get what he wanted. There was no graceful way to refuse this request, however, and he’d long ago learned the immense value in making empty promises to gain trust.
“Certainly,” he replied, bowing as if honored, and with some annoyance he realized he wasn’t entirely faking it. “I will keep him from disturbing you.”
“See that you do.” She then instructed him on where to be and what to do and he moved to the far end of the hall, so near the open gate that he struggled to keep from staring at it. Once the champions distracted Perndara and he had a moment alone with the gate, he would seize his destiny.
“Are we going to rescue them?” Anna asked, dubiously.
Eric frowned at the idea. Across the hall from the unlit room they stood in, a descending stairway led to the dungeon, the faint sounds of men talking and laughing drifting up from below. No one was looking forward to visiting it. If they weren’t careful, they might get to visit anyway. A patrol of guards had already passed by once. Enough torches and lanterns flickered along the stone walls that they knew company lurked everywhere, and they had doused their own.
“I think they can wait,” remarked Eric. “I don’t want them along while we’re facing the dragon. It’s like having another enemy in our midst.”
“Easy for you to say,” muttered Ryan, gripping the lance. “You don’t have to do much.”
“I don’t know,” started Matt, “they’ve got another wizard with them and he could be a big help.”
“I agree with Soliander,” said Lorian. “Though we will have to fight our way to them and it might arouse guards elsewhere, the addition of another wizard is worth the risk.”
Rognir grunted as a loud clatter rose up the stairs. Shouting followed. “No one will think twice about a commotion down there, as long as we are quick.”
“True,” agreed the elf, “the mercenaries are typically amateurish. Let us proceed before someone comes.” With that he peeked into the hallway and then ventured across and down the stairs, other elves and Rognir following. Before joining them, Eric frowned at his friends.
“Keep an eye on Cirion and the others when we get them out,” he suggested. “I expect nothing but trouble from them and am surprised Lorian wants them along.”
“Maybe he doubts our ability to help,” remarked Matt.
“Probably,” Eric admitted ruefully. “Just don’t trust them with anything, especially our safety.”
“Agreed,” said Ryan, wondering what Nola really had planned for him that night.
Eric peeked into the hallway and quickly leaned back. Guards were coming, this time from another direction that provided full view of them. He ushered the others back, but the empty room provided no cover and wasn’t nearly dark enough. He tried the only door, which opened to reveal
