Free Temple of the Dragonslayer by Tim Waggoner

red brow, glared at Maddoc. The creature’s enormous back, covered in long, sharp bony ridges, nearly came to the edge of the armrest.
    “I was sure my plan would succeed after the goblins led the girl to that clearing. Slean confronted her, just as instructed, and I sensed the power rising in the girl. But she fought it down before the Emergence could take place, forcing Davyn and me tointervene. I gave the boy simple instructions. He knew what he was supposed to do. Is he too stupid to follow orders?”
    After Maddoc had left Davyn and the girl in Tresvka at the building with the sign of the crescent moon—an empty building, which in fact Maddoc owned—he’d hurried back home to Cairngorn Keep. He intended to oversee the rest of this game from his keep, leaving Davyn and Oddvar—as well as those three goblins—to serve as his agents in the field. Maddoc hadn’t expected his plan to be this difficult to execute, but the black-robed wizard wasn’t prepared to give up just yet. No, not at all.
    There was one thing he hadn’t planned for, though: the traveling companions the girl had accumulated. Davyn knew he was supposed to prevent others from joining him and Nearra.
    “Davyn is not performing well, my friend.” The Beast growled again, louder this time. Maddoc reached over with his left hand and scratched the monstrous creature on its head between its four horns. The Beast rumbled its satisfaction and settled down. “Still, it is too late to relieve him of his duties. I’ll just have to let events proceed from this point on and do my best to control how they play out. One way or another, I will succeed.”
    Maddoc folded his hands over his stomach and gazed up at the tapestry hanging over the fireplace. It was an ancient, elaborately detailed piece of craftsmanship ten feet tall and four feet wide. The weaving remained tight and the colors vibrant, as if the tapestry had been finished yesterday instead of centuries ago.
    The tapestry portrayed a woman with a narrow face and long, raven-black hair. She wore a dark green dress trimmed with red fur. Her complexion was ivory-white, though Maddoc didn’t know if that was an accurate representation or merely artistic license on the part of the weaver. Her eyes were a striking shade of violet. They reminded Maddoc of the way a predator’s eyes gleamed just before sinking teeth into its prey.
    The woman in the tapestry wore a sun-shaped medallion around her neck, and lying on the ground in front of her feetsat a silver sword with a jewel-encrusted hilt. Maddoc had researched the woman in the tapestry for many years, trying to discover what had become of the two artifacts, but in all his studies, he had never found so much as a single reference to the location of either one.
    Asvoria—or rather, her image—stood before a wall of gray stone covered with strands of climbing ivy. Maddoc had once believed the wall she stood in front of was the outer wall of this very keep. After all, hundreds of years ago, this keep had once been Asvoria’s home. But after living here himself for nearly two decades and finding no sign of either the medallion or the sword, he was no longer so sure of that. Still, it was early in the game, and Maddoc had every confidence he would ultimately triumph.
    He smiled at the image of Asvoria. He was looking forward to finally meeting her.

 
    N earra was lost in a world of endless darkness … a world where there was no form, no substance. She had no body in this placeless place. She was a being of pure thought, a wandering spirit trapped in eternal nothingness …
    And she wanted out.

     
    Nearra opened her eyes and sat up. Sunlight came through the open window, its illumination a welcome sight after the endless nothingness in her dream. Just a dream, she thought. But such a strange one …
    Then the events of the day before came flooding back to her. Her heart pounded as she glanced quickly around the room. She let out a deep breath. No