“This is made of soclarin ore,” he began, “as only they would….” He didn’t finish the statement, for the woman leapt at him with swords slicing through the air, a frenzy of slashing motion. Startled, the rogue barely had time to launch one knife, which she casually caught on a blade and flung aside. Then she was on him like a whirlwind of steel and he knew he was going to die. Their swords met only once before a blade slashed his arm, another his chest, and finally both plunged to the hilt into his belly. In agony, he bent forward over her fists, her sinister eyes looking into his with contempt. She then shoved him back and off the twin blades. He fell on his back, his abdomen a bloody mess.
It occurred to him too late that Soliander had described the ore in the scroll so anyone could have known about it, and that it was the worst thing he could’ve said. After all, that’s probably why someone had opened the gate and Soliander certainly didn’t want the ore falling into the wrong hands. Feeling like a fool, he looked up at his killer without blame as she straddled him with both swords raised above her head, ready to finish him. He suddenly remembered the Trinity Ring and that Soliander had made it and Eric knew the voice commands – something only the champions knew.
“Oonurarki,” he choked out, and the woman vanished as the ring’s strongest spell healed him. He sat up, finding himself in the room he’d seen before stepping through the door. An illusion, he observed without surprise, noting his injuries had been real enough.
Taking stock, he rose and decided not to open the door he’d come through yet. It had obviously triggered a trap and once had been enough. Maybe the others were dealing with something, too, and so he moved off to one side to wait. Not long after, a distraught Anna ran through another door, covered in blood. Seeing him, she buried her face in his shoulder before he knew it.
Momentarily speechless, he finally asked, “Are you hurt?” Her head shook. “Then whose blood? Matt?” Again she shook her head. “Ryan?” She nodded and he put her at arm’s length. “Where?” He started for the door.
“No!” Anna said, grabbing him again. “No, it’s too late.”
“What? What do you…?” He trailed off, her distress answering the question.
Lone, steel-shod footsteps sounded from a hallway to one side and he moved to guard her, pulling out two throwing knives. A figure in golden armor stepped into sight, bloodied sword in one hand and a lance in the other. Blood covered much of the knight, who gave no indication of being in pain as he flashed a relieved smile.
“Ryan!” Eric let out a sigh of relief. Anna’s head snapped up and her mouth fell open. The big man came forward, eyes looking for the wizard.
“Where’s Matt?” he asked, putting away the sword. Anna suddenly rushed into his arms.
“I don’t know about you,” started the rogue, glancing around warily, “but I just dealt with an illusion that dumped me here when it was done. I think Anna did, too. She saw you die, I think.”
“Oh,” said Ryan, turning serious. “Well, I’m fine, Anna,” he said to her, putting a hand on her awkwardly. “It’s okay. I mean I did get hurt but I was able to heal myself with the ring.”
She nodded and pulled herself together to step back. “So maybe you dealt with an illusion, too,” she suggested, wiping tears from her face.
“Maybe,” he agreed. They heard feet running toward them from another hallway and Matt ran into view, looking terrified.
“We’ve got to get out of here!” Matt yelled, looking back.
“What’s the matter?” Ryan asked.
“There’s a powerful wizard not far behind me. He’s pissed!” He stopped to catch his breath. “I set him on fire.”
“That would do it.” Eric smirked.
The knight shrugged. “It’s probably an illusion. We all just experienced one, separately, it seems. Yours is probably over just like the rest of ours.”
A scream of rage sounded from behind Matt. “Did that sound like an illusion?”
“Actually, no,” Ryan admitted. He looked at Eric. “Do you think we’d experience each other’s illusions? We didn’t before.”
Eric took Anna’s arm and started for a door across from the one that triggered everything. “Let’s not find out.”
With trouble coming from behind, they didn’t wonder what lay behind the door as they jerked it open and stepped through, but only an ascending stairway greeted them. The others started up as Ryan bolted the door behind him. It wasn’t until he saw them standing at the top and not moving that alarm bells went off in his head. He crept up quietly, hoping to get a peek without letting himself be seen by whatever had arrested their attention, but all thoughts of that vanished when a tremendous roar shook the walls. It was deafening and shocking in its massiveness and could only mean one thing.
As he watched, a sinuous golden neck rose high into the air, pulling an enormous head with it. Two gigantic, baleful eyes swept over his friends and then picked him out from down below them, not missing a thing as its prey arrived. Ryan heard a slow rushing of air he didn’t understand until the dragon opened its fanged mouth and the sound reversed, accompanied by a huge spout of searing flames racing toward them.
“They did not follow?” Lorian asked, worried. He, the dwarf, and the other, remaining eight elves stood on a landing halfway down to the dungeon. The guards could still be heard laughing and joking below, unaware of the impending attack, but now the rescue of Cirion’s mercenaries might have to wait. The absence of the champions didn’t bode well.
