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  Finally, she remembered a healing spell used to relax patients who were in great pain. She pulled her hands out of the muck that constituted the wall of the moat and tried to wipe them clean. Turning towards Antello, she laid her hands on him. Being a veritable optimist, Antello would be the first to leap out of the moat and meet his death. Quietly, she chanted the spell as Antello looked at her in amazement. He shook his head as if to protest, but Lyra could feel his body starting to relax. Continuing quietly with her chant, Lyra was surprised with the effect of the spell when Antello closed his eyes and his head plopped into the muck on the side of the moat.

  Turning towards Syman, Lyra saw that he was engrossed with the sounds from inside the castle. His head was cocked slightly as if he thought it would make his hearing clearer. Being a pessimist, Syman would know that death awaited him inside the castle, but he was no coward and Lyra knew that he was not far from leaving his hiding place to join the fray. Quickly, she laid her hands on him and he shivered at her touch and turned to look at her. Lyra ignored his questioning eyes as she began whispering the chant. During her lessons, the patients never lost consciousness, but their relaxed body eased the pain. When Syman collapsed in a similar manner as Antello had, Lyra wondered why and determined to ask her father about it when the raid was over.

  The thought of her father snapped her back to reality and she wondered if she would have a father when this was all over, but quickly chastised herself for having such thoughts. Master Malafar was the greatest mage in Omunga and no simple raiding party could kill him. Lyra wondered how the three of them could help in some way and for the first time in her life she berated herself for her lack of attention in class. She knew that her father had taught her much, but she was too frightened and excited to think of what to do. Pressing her palms over her ears to shut out the noise, Lyra tried to calm herself and mentally walk through her lessons. By the time Lyra had calmed herself and brought her ragged breathing back to normal, the horses started to come back out of the castle.

  Once again the drawbridge reverberated with the sound of pounding hooves and the dirt began falling once more on the three students. After what felt like hours, the thundering hoofs were gone and voices could be heard. Syman and Antello started to stir and Lyra gently touched each of them to remind them where they were. A loud conversation was taking place not far from the drawbridge and the three youngsters listened alertly for any clues they could pick out of the discussion.

  “Your men are fools and bunglers,” shouted an angry voice. “I wanted them both alive. He will never cooperate alone. The only chance we have now is to find that fool of a girl he calls a daughter. I want her found alive. Alive! Do you understand?”

  “As you wish, Klaarg,” mumbled another voice. “We didn’t know what the wife looked like. You can’t blame my men for her death. She was decimating my men and we thought she was just another magic instructor. You never said the wife was a mage too. As least we have the painting of the daughter. She will not get far. I will find an artist to duplicate the painting and all of Omunga will know what she looks like. We will capture her alive. You can depend on it.”

  “I am depending on it,” berated Klaarg, “and so are you. If she dies, you will die also. I will not tolerate any more mistakes. See that you make none.”

  The pounding of Klaarg’s horse drowned the response out as he rode across the drawbridge, but another voice soon joined the conversation.

  “I have checked every hiding hole in the entire castle,” reported the new voice. “She is not here.”

  “Well, she has to be somewhere,” stormed the leader’s voice. “You stay here in case she returns. I am taking the men to the village to find out if she decided to take a day off. I will turn that village inside out and return by nightfall. See that you have captured her by then and make sure that she remains alive. If Klaarg is going to kill me for her death, you can be assured that I will kill you if she dies.”

  The leader didn’t wait for a response, but rode quickly across the drawbridge. When the noise of his passing subsided, Lyra was not sure whether the other man was still near the drawbridge or if he had retreated inside. Lyra pulled herself up toward the old wooden planks and tried to peer through the slits, but she could not see any sign of the raider. Syman understood what was on her mind and he rolled in the muck until he could see around the edge of the drawbridge. He signaled that there was no one visible and all three of the youngsters quickly scrambled out of the moat. They ran to the castle and pressed their backs firmly against the stone walls.

  Lyra frowned when she saw the footprints they had left behind, but unless the raider was very observant, she doubted he would notice because of all the other marks made by the horsemen who had just left. Lyra leaned around the archway and glanced into the courtyard, but she could see only bloody bodies lying on the ground. The raider must have reentered the castle. Her eyes fixed on the sword of a fallen guard and she nodded to Syman. He nodded back as the three young warriors dashed into the courtyard. The Academy grounds were deathly quiet and Lyra made sure that the sword she grabbed did not strike the ground as she hefted it. She looked back at the boys and saw that each of them had also found a useable sword among the bodies.

  The front doors to the Academy were wide open and Syman and Antello each pressed their body to a different side of the doorway. Lyra looked at them quizzically and then nodded. Lyra stood in the center of the courtyard and glanced at her two friends. Each of them nodded and Lyra banged her sword against the stone ground of the courtyard. The sound from that one strike reverberated through the courtyard and into the castle. It took only seconds for the raider to appear with his sword drawn and a smile upon his face.

  “So, my little mud rat,” sneered the raider, “you’ve been hiding in the moat, have you? Put down the sword and I won’t be forced to hurt you. We’re going on a little trip, we are.”

  Lyra was about to probe the man for information, but he must have sensed the boys behind him because he whirled and lunged for Antello. Syman wasted no time and leaped at the hulk of a man, bringing his sword down hard on the man’s unprotected neck. The raider cried out in pain as he collapsed to the stones, blood squirting out of the long cut on his neck. Lyra ran quickly to the raider, but when she arrived the raider’s body shivered and fell still. Wordlessly, the three youngsters entered the castle and started searching for survivors or other raiders who might be lurking about.

  The entry foyer was the scene of a battle and Lyra fought to remain calm. Bloody bodies lay all over the stone floor and Lyra nearly fell when her bare feet slid on the blood-slicked stones. Most of the bodies in the entry foyer were Academy guards, although there were also a few raiders and some of the guests she had seen earlier. The weaponless guests had been slaughtered as well as the guards who were meant to protect the Academy. The three young warriors searched the entry foyer carefully, but they could not find anyone alive.

  Lyra led the group as they silently climbed the steps to the second floor. There were classrooms and guest quarters on this floor and each room had to be checked thoroughly before they could be sure that there were no more raiders. The classrooms on this level were used mostly by Master Caulder to teach strategy and tactics to the small number of students he took on. Lyra’s father had allowed Master Caulder to host a school here in return for the services of his men and cadets. The arrangement had turned out to be a poor deal for both of them. Most of the classrooms were empty, but the hallway and the large practice room were littered with more bodies. Most of the bodies here were cadets and there was not a single body of a raider on the entire floor.

  Lyra’s whole body began shaking as she summoned the strength to mount the next flight of steps to the floor that housed the magic classrooms. Syman and Antello each placed a firm hand on her shoulder as she fought to control herself. Everyone had heard the conversation and knew what they would find on the next floor. Lyra inhaled and nearly choked on the smell of blood, but she stee
led herself and shook off the hands of her friends as she led the way up the stairway.

  Lyra halted on the landing of the third floor and nearly retched. While downstairs had looked like a battleground, this floor presented the image of a senseless slaughter. The hallway was littered with student bodies, the look of horror and fear still etched on their young faces. Blood had flowed freely here and in the center of the hallway was a large pool of red, sticky blood.

  The walls of the corridor were scorched black near the far stairway and burnt husks of what were raiders littered the far end of the hall. Lyra halted and stared at the scorch marks in confusion. Master Malafar disdained any use of offensive magic, but it was obvious that he must have utilized it because none of the students were capable of it. The conversation the raiders had outside swiftly replayed through Lyra’s mind and she frowned at their mention of a woman mage, specifically indicating that it was her mother. But Rhodella knew no magic at all.

  Lyra headed toward her father’s main classroom while Syman and Antello continued searching for survivors. The scene of the large classroom was more like a battlefield again with Academy guards and weapons scattered around the room. Once again the walls were scorched black and burnt raiders were piled just inside the door. At the doorway to her father’s private study, which connected with the large classroom, Lyra saw the body of Master Caulder. The bodies of eight raiders lay before him and Lyra belatedly thanked him for doing his best to save her father. Pushing past the bodies, Lyra stretched into her father’s study and halted when she saw the body of her mother, Rhodella. Tears started flowing down Lyra’s cheeks as she started crying. The sound of her bawling brought Syman and Antello running and Syman put his arms around her in an attempt to comfort her.

  Lyra pushed Syman away and sank to the floor next to her mother’s body, which was lying in a puddle of blood. Lyra reached out and caressed her mother’s long golden hair and gasped when Rhodella’s head moved.

  “She’s alive!” exclaimed Lyra. “Get me something for a bandage. Hurry!”

  Antello leaped out of the room while Syman lowered himself to the floor on the opposite side of Rhodella. He helped Lyra gently turn Rhodella over and winced when he saw the nasty gash across her abdomen. He shook his head sadly as he looked into Lyra’s eyes and Lyra bit her lower lip as the muscles of her neck bulged. She knew that there was nothing she could do to help her mother with the type of wound she had and Rhodella would soon die.

  “You are safe,” smiled Rhodella. “I thank the heavens for such mercy.”

  Lyra smiled tautly and moved the dagger away from her mother’s hand. She never knew her mother owned a weapon therefore was amazed to find the dagger in her possession. Rhodella noticed the confusion on Lyra’s face as she coughed and winced with pain.

  “Your father was the nonviolent one,” smiled Rhodella. “I fought alongside my brothers when I was young. Listen carefully. I know that I do not have much time left and I do not feel like I can say this twice. You must get away from here quickly. They have your father and they want him do to something evil.”

  Rhodella smiled and held her finger to Lyra’s mouth when the young girl tried to ask something. “Let me finish quickly,” gasped Rhodella. “Your father will not cooperate freely. They will need some leverage to make him perform. I was supposed to be that leverage; now they will seek you. You must go to Uncle Temiker’s place in Alamar. Tell him what happened and get him to teach you properly. It will be up to you to free your father and you must learn everything you can. Tell Temiker to contact RavenWing.”

  Rhodella convulsed into a coughing fit as she removed a ring from her finger and placed it in Lyra’s hand. “Who were they, Mother?” asked Lyra as she cast the healing spell that she had used on the boys earlier. “What are they going to try to make father do? Where will I find him?”

  Rhodella grimaced as she tried to shake her head. “Thank you,” Rhodella smiled tightly as she felt the effects of Lyra’s spell. “You have learned your lessons well. I know nothing more about the raiders than you do. Under my bed is a chest. Go to it. Inside is your brother’s sword. I think you know how to use it, in spite of your father’s attempts to deny it. Do not allow anyone or anything to get in your way. I feel that there is more at stake here than just your father’s life. Temiker will not be safe, either. Anyone who can cause your father to do what the raiders want is in danger.”

  Rhodella coughed and spit up blood. Syman gently took the bandages Antello had brought back and used one to wipe Rhodella’s face. Antello stooped and tried to bandage Rhodella, but she pushed his hands away.

  “Don’t bother with me,” Rhodella stated. “I know what is coming and you can do nothing to stop it. I want you two boys to swear that you will stay with Lyra until this is over. She needs your help.”

  Although both boys readily agreed, Rhodella was dead before she could hear their answer. Lyra sat and wept while cradling her mother’s head as Syman and Antello quietly left the room.

  Chapter 2

  Escape from Terror

  Syman heard Lyra calling and ran back to Master Malafar’s study. Sliding on the blood soaked floor, he hit the doorway and halted haphazardly. “What is it?” he questioned. “Is something the matter?”

  No,” answered Lyra, her muddied face gazing at her dead mother. “I just wanted help getting my mother outside so we can have a proper funeral.”

  “Lyra,” sighed Syman, “I’m sorry, but we have no time for that now. Those raiders are coming back here and as soon as they see the one we killed, they are going to be tracking us. We need to get whatever we can salvage and get out of here quickly.”

  “We can be ready for them,” chirped Antello from the classroom. “Maybe we can get them as they come in.”

  Syman turned and shook his head. “Antello,” lectured Syman, “we would be lucky to fight an even number of those bandits and survive. We’ve had good training, but we have no experience killing people. Those raiders sounded like it was a normal day for them. We need to get Lyra to Alamar. We swore we would do so, even if Rhodella never heard us. I intend to honor my pledge and we shall not do that waiting here for more raiders. Get down to the kitchen and fix us packs for the road. I’m going to scour this place for any useable weapons while Lyra gets her brother’s sword.”

  Lyra gently laid her mother back on the floor and nodded. “Syman is right,” she conceded. “Mother’s plan makes sense even if Alamar is hundreds of leagues from here. We have to get someone to help us and Uncle Temiker is a powerful mage. Besides, Mother said he is in danger too. We can tell the villagers about this mess. I know they will provide decent funerals for everyone.”

  “But the raiders were going to the village,” cautioned Syman. “We should try to avoid it.”

  “I may leave this castle without making my Mother ready for a funeral, but I will not allow her to lie here and rot,” declared Lyra. “We will visit the village before we head off to Alamar. Antello, see if there are any horses left behind while you are downstairs. If the raiders didn’t steal them all, pick three of the best for our journey.”

  “I need to get this crud off me before we leave,” announced Syman. “Who knows when the next bath will be.”

  Lyra winced as she looked at her two friends and imagined what she looked like herself. “Okay,” she agreed, “but we need to move quickly. I want a long head start on those raiders when they return.”

  Lyra stepped over the body of Master Caulder and headed for her mother’s room. Swiftly, she threw herself to the floor and wriggled under the bed for her mother’s chest. She cringed at the feel of her blood soaked tunic as it pressed against her body, but she yanked the chest out and opened it. Sadness filled her heart as she viewed the belongings of her brother, Alfred. Alfred had been killed when Lyra was still young, but she still remembered him well. How proud everyone had been of Alfred when he was chosen to serve with the Monitors, the Katana’s own personal bodyguard. He hadn’t been in the capital
more than a year before an assassination attempt cost him his life. The victim of a magical projectile, Alfred never had a chance to defend himself, but his death saved the Katana.

  The day the news arrived was the very day her father vowed to never teach offensive magic again and the last day he ever spoke to his brother, Temiker. The assassin was caught and identified as one of Temiker’s former students. Very likely, Uncle Temiker taught the very spell that cost Alfred his life. Father could never forgive him for that.

  Lyra looked through the contents of the chest and piled items she would be taking with her on the floor. She added Alfred’s pants and leather vest to the pile and reasoned that she could alter them to fit herself while they traveled. A dark waistband with pouches for Omunga Stars and the Stars themselves were set aside for the journey. Six fine throwing knives with leather sheaths also made the pile. She examined the boots and decided they were too big for her, but smiled when she saw the black cap. She decided that it would do nicely to cover her hair and help to disguise her.

  Alfred’s sword was a mean looking double-edged sword, which was considerably heavier than what she was used to, but it also had a well-maintained back sheath and Lyra figured that she would get used to the extra weight of it. Lyra was slim, but she was not weak or frail. In fact, she was quite athletic and in as good a shape as any of the cadets. At the bottom of the chest was a fine bow with three extra bowstrings and a quiver of hunting arrows. Lyra added them to her pile and closed the chest. Gathering up her new belongings, Lyra ran to her own room and started tossing clothes on the bed for her journey. She grabbed the outfit she would wear for today and headed off to bathe.