Minutes later the entire company of defenders had gained the decks of Wend-A-Way, and the airship was lifting off and turning north for the safety of night’s concealing darkness.

Drust Chazhul had ordered Federation army commander Tinnen March to dispatch every soldier under his newly designated command to the landing platform in an attempt to stop the Druid escape, but the effort had failed. Flits had given pursuit, but with night settled in there wasn’t much reason to hope they could do anything. The Federation ships still weren’t able to fly and fight, so there was nothing to do but let the Keep’s defenders go their way.

At least, he told himself, somehow managing to keep his burgeoning rage and frustration in check, he had control of Paranor and whatever treasures it hid.

Stoon, standing at his side, warned him that it would be wise not to go in himself until his soldiers had been able to make certain it was safe. There was nothing to say the Druids hadn’t left traps for the foolish and unwary.

Reluctantly, Drust had agreed. He would have his chance soon enough. He would loot the fortress of her treasures, of talismans and artifacts, of histories and records, of all things Druid, and then he would tear it down. It might take some time, but he would use every soldier available to him and when he was finished there would be nothing left for those who had escaped him to come back to. He would raze the Druid’s Keep down to its foundations and obliterate all traces of the Druid order.

He would put an end to magic’s greatest stronghold and then begin the task of cleaning up whatever remnants might have been left behind.

“Once Paranor is destroyed, there will be time enough to hunt down the rest of the Druids and put an end to them for good. Then all the other magic users, as well.” Drust gave his companion a smile. “I’ll be appointed Prime Minister for life after that.”

They stood together in the darkness on the Outer Wall ramparts and watched as Federation soldiers poured into the Keep through the smashed doors off the airfield ramp. Arrow was no longer burning, her blackened hull crumbling and still.

Drust was about to comment on his plans for the remaining Druid airships when he saw a strange greenish glow seeping through cracks and crevices in the doors and windows of the lower levels of the Keep.

“What do you think that is?” he muttered. Stoon shook his head, watching silently.

The glow began to climb upward, infiltrating the Keep floor by floor. Within the tower walls, men began to scream in terror. Those not yet inside hesitated and then quickly fell back. The light had begun to pulse, as if it were reacting to the screams.

“Get those men out of there,” Stoon told Drust.