"I do not know how long the enchantment will hold the dragon," Cadderly admitted some time later, after Fyrenten-nimar had eagerly led them to the lair's main entrance, a gigantic cavern on the mountain's north slope with an opening wide enough for the dragon to swoop in and out with its huge wings extended.
"It'd be a real party for old Fyren to remember old Fyren when we're a thousand feet up on the damned thing's back!" Ivan snorted loudly, drawing angry looks from four of his companions and a slap on the back of the head from Pikel.
Te just said..." the yellow-bearded dwarf started to protest to Cadderly.
"What I just admitted is not information to be given freely to Fyrentennimar!" Cadderly whispered harshly. The dragon was some distance away, peering out into the howling wind and considering their intended course, but Cadderly had read many tales describing the extraordinary senses of dragonkind, many tales where an offhand whisper had cost a parleying party dearly against an easily flattered wyrm.
The flight will be swift," Shayleigh reasoned. "You will not have to hold Fyrentennimar for long."
Cadderly could see that the fearless elf maiden was looking forward to the ride, could see that Danica, too, held no reservations against the potential gains. Hopping up and down, clapping his chubby hands and smiling all the while, Pikel's mood likewise was not hard to discern.
"What do you say?" Cadderly asked Vander, the one member who had not made clear his feelings.
"I say that you are desperate indeed to even consider this course," the firbolg replied bluntly. "But I am indebted to you for all my life, and if you choose to ride, I will go along." He cast a sidelong glance at grumbling Ivan. "As will the dwarf, do not doubt"
"Who're ye speaking for?" Ivan growled back.
"Would you stay alone in this cave, then, and wait for the dragon's return?" the firbolg casually asked.
Ivan mulled it over for a few minutes, then huffed defiantly, "Good point"
TTiey rushed out the front entrance soon after, into the teeth of the now raging storm. The wind did little to hinder the massive dragon's progress, though, and the heat from Fyrentennimar's inner furnace, heat that lent the power to the dragon's dreadful breath, kept the six companions warm enough.
Bent low, eyes closed, Cadderly sat closest to old Fyren's head, right at the base of the red dragon's serpentine neck. The young priest reached again into the sphere of chaotic magics, focusing all his energies into extending his vital enchantment. To his relief, the dragon seemed pleased enough to carry the riders, seemed pleased just to be out in the wide world again. That thought inspired more than a few fears in Cadderly - what had Ivan said about letting a sleeping wyrm lie? - concerning the potential implications to the people of the region, particularly the implications to Carradoon, not so iar away by a flying dragon's reckoning. Cadderly had made his choice, though, and now had to trust in the wisdom of that decision and hope for the best
Danica sat right behind her love, arms wrapped about his waist, though she took great care not to disturb the young priest's concentration.
They climbed up above the storm, into sparkling sunlight, soaring through the crisp air. When they had passed the region of clouds, Fyrentennimar dove down into a crevice between two mountains, turning sidelong within the narrow pass. His leathery wings caught the updrafts, rode them fully as he came out of his steep bank, gaining speeds beyond the imagination of his thrilled riders.
Reveling in the sensation, which was many times more exciting than air-walking, Danica let go of Cadderly, threw her arms up high and wide and let the wind whip her unkempt hair about
The world became a blur below them; Ivan complained that he was going to be sick, but no one cared or listened.
They came up fast on a ridge, and all of them, except for the concentrating Cadderly, screamed aloud in fear that they would slam against it. But Fyrentennimar was no novice to dragonflight, and the ridge was suddenly gone, left behind in the blink of an eye.
"Son of a smart goblin!" Ivan yelled, too amazed to remember that he meant to throw up. "Do it agajn!" he cried in glee, and the dragon apparently heard, for another ridge, and then another, and a jutting peak after that passed below or beside them in a wild rush, to a chorus of exhilarated screams that were outdone by the applauding roars of one yellow-bearded dwarf.
None of them could begin to guess at how fast they were traveling, could even comprehend the rush of dragonflight They crossed the bulk of the Snowflakes in mere minutes, all of them, Vander and Ivan included, now in wholehearted agreement that the choice to ride the tamed wyrm had been a good one.
But then, suddenly and unexpectedly, mighty Fyrentennimar reared, seemed to hover in the air, as his massive horned head, his great fanged maw turned back to regard Cadderly.
"Uh-oh," Pikel muttered, thinking the fun at its end.
Cadderly sat upright, fearful that he had gone past the limits of control. He could not predict the chaotic magic, for its essence was founded in illogic and was in no way described in the harmonious song of Deneir.
Cadderly looked back to Danica and Shayleigh, no longer wearing expressions of freedom and excitement, and to grim Vander, nodding as though he had expected this disaster all along. Cadderly wanted to call out to the dragon, to ask Fyrentennimar what was wrong, but, sitting atop the volatile beast, suspended a thousand feet above the ground, he couldn't find the courage.
*****
Dorigen watched in amazement as her wooden door bulged and groaned. Great bubbles of wood extended into her room and then retreated. She prudently moved to the side of the small chamber, out of harm's way.
A huge bubble rolled in from the door's center, holding the wood out to its extreme for a long moment Then the door burst apart into a thousand flying splinters, each of them glowing silver with residual energy. Silver sparks became blue almost instantly, and not a single splinter struck the floor or opposite wall, was simply consumed to nothingness in midftight
Aballister stormed in through the open portal.
"The ghost has failed," Dorigen remarked before the fuming wizard had even said a word.
Abailister stopped in the doorway and eyed the younger wizard suspiciously. "You viewed it through your crystal ball," he hissed, considering the device on the table before Dorigen.
"I view it in your expression," Dorigen quickly replied, fearing that the wizard would handle her as he had handled the door. She tossed her long salt-and-pepper hair back from her face, ran her crooked fingers through it, and went through a myriad of other movements, all designed to deflect Aballister's mounting rage.
Truly, the older wizard seemed on the verge of an explosion. His deep-set dark eyes narrowed dangerously, bony fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides.
"Your worries are plain to see," Dorigen said bluntly, knowing that it was precisely that fact that was bothering the wizard. Aballister, Dorigen knew, was a man who prided himself on being able to sublimate his emotions, on remaining cryptic at all times so that his enemies and rivals could not find any emotional advantage to use against him. To remain calm and distant is the secret of a wizard's strength," the coldhearted Aballister had often said in the past, but such was not the case now, not with pesty Cadderly apparently making some headway in his try for Castle Trinity.
"You viewed it with your crystal ball," Aballister accused again, his voice a low growl, and Dorigen understood that it would not be wise for her to disagree a second time,
"The chimera and manticore have been defeated?" Dorigen stated as much as asked, something she had suspected since Aballister's last visit to her room, when he had grown outraged that their scrying would no longer work.
Aballister admitted the loss with a nod.
"And now the undead monster," Dorigen went on.
"I do not know that Cadderly played a part in that one's downfall," Aballister snapped. "I have Druzil looking into the matter even as we speak."
Dorigen nodded, but privately didn't agree at all. If the ghost had been destroyed, then the formidable Cadderly was surely behind it Whether he would openly admit it or not, Aballister knew it, too.
"Have we anything else with which we might strike out at him?" Dorigen asked.
"Have you located him with your precious crystal ball?" Aballister growled back angrily.
Dorigen looked away, not wanting her superior to see the rage in her amber eyes. If he considered her scrying attempts pitiful, then why didn't Aballister take on the task himself? Aballister was no novice to scrying, after all. He had watched Barjin's movements when the priest had entered Castle Trinity, had even destroyed his valuable enchanted mirror by forcing his magic through it. Since that time, Aballister had not attempted any scrying at all, except one failed attempt earlier in Dorigen's room.
"Well, have you?" Aballister demanded.
Dorigen snapped an angry glare over him. "Simple spells can counteract scrying," she replied. "And I assure you, your son has little trouble with simple spells!"
Aballister's eyes widened, the old wizard seeming shocked that Dorigen had spoken so bluntly to him, had emphasized once more that this danger to Castle Trinity was being perpetrated by Aballister's own son. The wizard virtually trembled with anger and briefly considered lashing out with his power to punish Dorigen.
"Prepare your defenses," Dorigen said to him.
Again, her bluntness stunned the older wizard. ''Cadderly will never get close to Castle Trinity," Aballister promised, an evil grin spreading over his face and calming him visibly. The time has come for me to personally see to that troublesome child."
"You will go out?" Dorigen's tone was incredulous.
"My magic will go out," Aballister corrected. The mountains themselves will shudder, and the sky will cry for the death of that foolish boy Cadderly! Let us see how a priest measures up against a wizard!" He cackled gleefully and turned away, sweeping determinedly out of the room.