Story 20. Surprises.

And then everything went wrong, one after the other. Firstly Correon appeared, just out of the blue. He was someone they didn't want to see near Paul. As a result boy's foolishness and man's curiosity showed the way to one of the secret dungeons among the old ruins. Gryvon had heard about them and even had read within the history course. But as far as he could tell, the previous dungeon had been found about twenty years ago, south-east from the ruins. And it had been almost empty, except the nearly broken tables and dirt. Speaking about this one… Judging by the boy's and Regent's excited voices, it had something interesting. Journals. Old Spellbinders' journals. Hearing about the ancestors' deeds, Gryvon realized Ashka had to know it. And take some action. Immediately. Just think about it, they were chasing the gunpowder secret, and the weapon of who-knows-what-power had always been so close!

And then Riana appeared as it had already happened before. This time Gryvon didn't have a chance to be surprised, he found himself tied up, feeling he'd be very pleased to punish this wriggler. Perhaps, Ashka had been right, they had to banish her? One should solve the problems as they come. They had eased off and lost the sight of Riana, that's why now they were having even more problems than they had expected. Gryvon had been put into the hay, feeling insulted and angry, but then Maran came suddenly and released him. His eyes flashed with fury. Gryvon tried to run over the feeling of humiliated pride.

"Your daughter won't get away with it, I promise! – he exclaimed while Maran was freeing him from the ropes. - Where did they go?"

"To the Tower, I think", - the woman answered.

To the Tower… Of course. Following them, Gryvon hoped that all the surprises and the obstacles were over. But he hardly knew that Correon and Paul would be able to escape one more time. Or that the flying ship piloted to Clayhill by Ashka will take him and then fall halfway suddenly. The thrust was strong and unexpected. Not predicting such a trick, Ashka pulled the control levers, trying to raise the ship again. But it was unseless, the power had already gone. Gryvon knew it was stupid at least, to think that her powerstones were depleted. He clutched the left lever, turning it a little. The field in front of the ship was replaced by the river, which softened the impact. Squeezing the seat back with one hand, Gryvon caught Ashka's shoulder the last moment, preventing her to be pressed into the dashboard.

"Are you all right?"

"More or less, - the Spellbinder answered, tossing her hair from her face, - let's get out from here".

So they did, taking the Eyestone and the bag full of powerstones with them. The Marauders could hardy use them but here, with no ship it was better to ensure. And the next surprise, waiting for them neat the Easthill Tower, didn't take long to appear. Looking at the chain with electric sparks, Gryvon realized that was the reason why the ship fell. And that it couldn't happen without Paul's help…

And then… then there was a road, up and down along the rocks, searching for the Marauders, which were hiding somewhere in these labyrinths. Following Ashka that was able to go far ahead even in her powersuit, Gryvon suddenly felt as a young boy, who had once sprained the ankle in this forest. The Marauders were closer with each step and he had no powersuit just like the previous time. Ashka didn't believe the stories he had heard in the villages. The Marauders and their barbaric traditions, the peasants were talking about in order to scare the children, didn't bother her at all…

The night was senseless and stressful. Putting the bag with stones under his head, Gryvon was looking at the pieces of sky between the trees. From time to time he closed his eyes and listened. Everything was quiet. Somewhere in the distance birds were singing, but those were the only sounds he heard. He didn't want to sleep. But searching in the dark of a night was impossible. Ashka wasn't sleeping too, - sitting near the tree, she was watching the narrow road among the trees. Nobody appeared, nothing happened. Inaction annoyed her, the young man felt it almost physically.

Nearly in the morning they both fell asleep. And for some reason Gryvon, whose dreams had never been too bright or expressive, saw Gareth that night. The Regent was wearing his black-and-red cloak, he looked just like he used to many years ago, coming to the Clayhill Summoner's house. Sitting in a saddle, the man forced his horse to walk along the forest track. Gryvon, following the rider, wasn't able to reach him, staying behind no matter all his attempts to keep up. He stopped walking and ran, seeing the dark Regent's silhouette disappear in mist…

"Gryvon!" – Somebody shook his shoulder.

He opened his eyes and saw it was Ashka. And the morning had already come. Shaking off the unpleasant dream of him, Gryvon and the Spellbinder looked at the road, where a man was leading Correon's horse…