The Last Stand of Daronwy by Clint Talbert Page A

air between Lightningbolt and the knight. It was not spoken as much thought, not thought as much felt; like two dogs sniffing at each other, except using their minds rather than their noses. Lightningbolt’s spell held, and the knight gave the slightest nod of its helmet. The spell holding the ancient iron door released. It creaked inward, scratching along the floor. Lightningbolt and Eaglewing swaggered inside. The moment it closed, the wizard collapsed against the wall.
    Eaglewing fed his brother water and blue crystal powder, the most powerful of the Light crystals. Lightningbolt blinked. “That was difficult—”
    A scream interrupted him. “Come on!” Eaglewing pulled his brother into hallways lit by ghoulish green orbs. They found themselves in a wide chamber where a long flue in the ceiling was open to the night sky. Eaglewing and Lightningbolt pressed themselves into the shadows that lined the walls. Four blue-skinned wizards chanted around a stone table that dripped with blood. A fifth was shouting at goblins who were trying to pull someone out of a cell with twenty people in it.
    Lightningbolt glanced at Eaglewing, whispering, “How could we be so stupid? Kronshar wants this place because of Dan’kir’s curse. I can’t believe the Council let him have it.” Eaglewing was about to ask what he meant, but a commotion near the prison cell made him hold his tongue.
    The fifth wizard forced a woman toward the table, struggling to control her as she swung at him. One of the other wizards hit her leg with a staff and she collapsed. As the fifth wizard hefted her onto the slab, two others wrestled her limbs into chains. Their chanting grew louder.
    â€œTell me the story some other time,” Eaglewing said. “What are they and what are they going to do to her?”
    â€œSelurks.” The tone of his voice said it all.
    â€œReal or Shadow?”
    â€œBoth. Don’t look at them in the Shadow Realm. They will see us.”
    â€œWhat are they doing?”
    â€œI think they are trying to channel the eight demons to open the Gate here. You know, Dan’kir’s curse.”
    It finally clicked in Eaglewing’s mind. “I thought that was just a story.”
    Lightningbolt sighed. “Nothing is ever just a story. How do you want to do this?”
    Jeremy stood atop the summit of the Twin Hills. Daniel stood atop the other summit. They stared at the scummy pond, the florescent green algae shining in the last rays of the winter sunlight. They spoke in low tones, as though the turtles might hear them.
    â€œCan you unlock the door up there? Or do we have to take them out that flue?”
    â€œWe can’t carry twenty people.”
    â€œCould you use your folding spell? We could get them out of the castle quickly with that.”
    â€œAs long as they don’t raise the drawbridge, we’ll be okay.”
    â€œCan you unlock the door?”
    Lightningbolt smiled. “No, but we can make a new one. You have the black powder, right?”
    Eaglewing patted his pouch.
    She screamed. Eaglewing grabbed his brother’s arm. “It’s Mayflure!” His other hand went to the hilt of his sword. “Come on!”
    â€œI’ll take the selurks!” Lightningbolt put his hands together. “Don’t draw yet, give me a second.”
    Eaglewing stared at the stone table, fingers clutching his sword as he fought to control his emotions. A warrior should never strike from anger, he knew. A gray-black shadow roared to life over Mayflure, opening jaws to reveal an even darker blackness beyond its semi-translucent body. A selurk held a curved knife high over her. The chanting swelled into a rumbling din.
    â€œLightningbolt—now!” Eaglewing’s wings pumped once, catapulting him across the room as his sword sang free from his sheath. He cut through the selurk’s arm and the curved knife skittered across the floor. The