Blood of the Fold

The creatures let out clicking hisses as they lunged at the great fur beast. Gratch caught them on claws, ripping their scaled hides open, spilling their blood and insides. Their howls as they died drew a shiver up Zedd's spine.

Zedd felt the air move as one swept past, intent on the gar. The wizard threw his hand out, casting a ball of liquid fire that caught the mriswith, igniting its cape, and then spilled flame over the rest of it.

The rampart was suddenly alive with the creatures. Zedd, digging deep to bring up the power, snapped back a line of dense air, throwing several over the edge. Gratch threw one at the wall with such violence that it burst open when it hit.

Zedd wasn't prepared for the pitched battle that was suddenly all round him. Through his numb exhaustion, Zedd's frenetic quest for ideas couldn't engender anything more ingenious than simple magic of fire and air.

A mriswith turned suddenly, bringing around its bladed claw. Zedd threw a line of air as sharp as an axe. It cleaved the mriswith's head. He used a web to snare several away from Gratch and cast them over the side of the wall. At this outer rampart, it was a drop of several thousand feet — straight down.

The mriswith, for the most part, ignored Zedd, so resolute were they with taking down the gar. Why did they want so badly to kill the gar? By the way Gratch was dispatching them, it seemed they held a primal hatred for the winged beast.

A wedge of light suddenly stabbed through the predawn darkness as a door opened. A small figure stood silhouetted in the light. In the illumination, Zedd could see the mriswith all lunging for the gar. He rushed forward, throwing a fist of fire that engulfed three of the scaled creatures spinning forward with their knives flashing.

A mriswith hurtled past, slamming Zedd's shoulder, knocking him from his feet. He saw the mriswith pile into the gar, knocking him back against the crenellated wall.

Zedd saw them all, in one seething mass, tumble over the edge, and fall into the night, just as his head hit the stone.

The door squeaked open. As Valdora rose from her work, Ann gasped to catch her breath, and at the same time fought the darkness trying to shroud her mind. She couldn't do it any longer. She was at the end. She had no more screams left. Dear Creator, she could not hold out any longer. Why hadn't he come to rescue her?

"Grandmamma." Holly grunted with effort as she labored to drag something, inch by inch, into the room. "Grandmamma. Something has happened."

Valdora turned to the girl. "Where did you find him?"

Ann struggled to lift her head. Holly huffed and strained to lift a skinny old man up by his maroon robes and lean him against the wall. Blood trickled down the side of his head and matted his wavy white hair sticking out in disarray.

"He's a wizard, Grandmamma. He's near to dead. I saw him having a fight with a gar, and some other creatures all covered with scales."

"What makes you think he's a wizard?"

Holly straightened, panting as she stood over the old man on the floor. "He was using his gift. He was casting balls of fire."

Valdora frowned. "Reeeally. A wizard. How interesting." She scratched her nose. "What happened to the creatures, and the gar?"

Holly wheeled her arms about as she described the battle. "And then they all jumped on the gar, and all of them fell over the side. I went to the edge and looked, but I couldn't see them anymore. They all fell down the mountain."

Ann's head thumped back to the table. Dear Creator, it was a wizard who supposed to rescue her.

It was all for naught. She was going to die. How could she have been so vain as to believe she could do something this risky and get away with it. Nathan was right.

Nathan. She wondered if he would ever find her body to know what had happened, or would even care if his warden was dead. She was a foolish, foolish, old woman, who thought herself more clever than she was. She had tampered with prophecy one time too many, and it had bitten her. Nathan was right. She should have listened.

Ann flinched when she saw Valdora leaning over her with a wicked grin. She pushed the knifepoint up under Ann's chin.

“Well, dear Prelate, it seems I have a wizard to dispatch." She drew the knifepoint across Ann's throat. She could feel it tugging at the skin, cutting and scratching as it dragged along.

"Please, Valdora, ask Holly to leave the room. You shouldn't let your granddaughter see you kill someone."

Valdora turned. "You'd like to watch, wouldn't you, dear?"

Holly swallowed. "No, Grandmamma. She never tried to hurt us."

"I've told you, she hurt me."

Holly pointed. "I brought him in here so you could help him."

"Oh, no. Can't have that. He must die, too."

"And what did he do to hurt you?"

Valdora shrugged. "If you don't want to watch, then go. It won't hurt my feelings."

Holly turned, pausing a moment to glance down at the old man. She reached out and touched his shoulder in a comforting way, and then hurried away.