Excitement rippled through Lyra’s body as she leaned out of the castle window and spied on the two figures below.  She felt the morning breeze blow through her short blond hair as she watched them sally back and forth with jabs, thrusts, and deadly swings.  Quickly, she pulled away from the window and scurried under her bed.  Stretching against the cold stone floor, she reached into the dark corner and seized the hilt of her forbidden sword.  Rising with a swagger, she smoothly slid the sword under the belt of her plain, gray tunic with a practiced flourish.  Quietly, she crept to the door of her room and eased it open slightly.  Her blue eyes scanned the corridor for any signs of life as she slipped her young, lithe body through the doorway.  Tiptoeing down the corridor, she peered ahead for any open doorways that might spell disaster for her plan.

   Lyra stiffened as she reached the stone stairway and the dull sounds of voices drifted up to her.  Bracing her back against the cold stone, Lyra edged her head around the corner and glanced down at the next landing.  It was empty and Lyra swiftly raced down the steps, her bare feet gripping the rough stone steps where they met the wall.  The center of the stairway was smooth, eroded by centuries of traffic, but it was also in the center of the steps where dirt gathered and Lyra could not afford to slip on any loose material, which might be present.

   Lyra halted just short of the landing and peeked around the corner.  The aroma of acids and herbs permeated the air on this floor where Master Malafar taught most of his classes.  All of the classroom doors were open, but only one student stood in the corridor in a position capable of seeing her.  Lyra recognized him.  Walak was the son of a rich Lord and a pompous brat.  He had no real comprehension of magic and Lyra was sure that his father had sent him to the Academy just for the prestige associated with having a family member attend classes under the Great Master.  Lyra couldn’t imagine what Walak was doing out in the corridor while classes were going on, but she could not afford to be seen by him.

   Walak appeared to be pacing aimlessly as if waiting for someone.  Lyra couldn’t afford to waste much time waiting for Walak to do whatever he was going to do.  She waited until Walak was pacing away from her and quickly darted across the landing and began a swift descent down the old stairway.  The next landing was empty, as was the adjoining corridor and Lyra continued down to the main floor.  Her heart beating rapidly, Lyra gazed into the grand entry foyer and saw people moving around at the far end.  All of the people were older and she surmised that they were probably parents of prospective students who had come to inspect the Academy.

   Standing upright, Lyra smoothly stepped off the stairs and turned down a corridor leading to a rear exit from the castle.  Once she was far enough down the corridor to be safely out of sight, she broke into a run, her bare feet pounding lightly on the smooth floor.  Lyra reached the door and swung it open swiftly as she stepped out into the bright glare of the morning sun.  She closed the door with an authoritative slam and turned to face the two boys.

   “So,” she called, “you two are practicing without supervision again.  Perhaps Master Caulder would be interested in your behavior.”

   “Oh, no,” groaned Syman, the taller of the two boys.  “Lyra, shouldn’t you be learning magic with your father?”

   “Yeah,” echoed Antello, “you shouldn’t be here, either.”

   “Okay,” chirped Lyra, “I won’t tell if you two don’t.  I’ve been waiting for the chance for a rematch with you two.”

   “I swear you should be taking lessons from Master Caulder instead of your father,” smiled Syman.  “Come on, we don’t want to get caught out here.  I’m ready for you this time.  Master Caulder has taught us some new swings.”

   “You are going to need them,” chuckled Lyra as she drew her wooden practice sword from her belt and leaped off the steps to land in the dew covered grass.  “Let’s see what Master Caulder can teach you to protect against this . . . ”

   Lyra swung her foot and knocked Antello’s feet out from under him.  Turning quickly, she thrust a rising slash of her wooden sword towards Syman and the dark-haired boy had to leap out of the way.

   “You are a wicked girl,” laughed Syman as he raised his wooden sword and moved into a defensive stance.

   “And a cheater,” laughed Antello as he jumped to his feet and charged Lyra.

   “There is no such thing as cheating when you are fighting for your life,” instructed Lyra as she ducked Antello’s thrust and tumbled to the ground to avoid the expected swing from Syman.  “Master Caulder may be a Master Swordsman, but fighting for your life is not a tournament.  Every action to defeat your foe is legal in order to avoid being killed.”

   “She’s right,” agreed Syman as he ran to cross swords with Lyra, who had just regained a standing position.  “Master Caulder should broaden our lessons to include situations we may face in real life.”

   Antello smiled as he circled Lyra to trap her between Syman and himself.  “I guess he figures we will learn those lessons soon enough,” he stated.  “What he has taught us already makes us among the best swordsmen in Omunga.”

   “Not by a long shot,” scowled Syman as he and Lyra continued to exchange blows.  “He is an excellent teacher, but we have a lot to learn before we go fighting bandits or enter the Imperial Service.  If we went off right now, we would be dead before nightfall.”

   “Not a chance,” laughed Antello as he tried to trip Lyra in repayment for her opening gambit.  “It would be our opponents on the ground, not us.”

   “None of us are ready for bandits,” huffed Lyra as she jumped to avoid Antello’s swinging leg.  “Still, I wish father would let me study with you instead of taking magic lessons.  That stuff is so dry and boring.”

   “Dry and boring, is it?” shouted Rhodella from the steps.  “I thought you weren’t feeling well this morning, Lyra.  Your father is going to be mighty displeased.”

   Syman’s sword struck Lyra in the ribs when her mother shouted and Lyra stumbled to the ground.  The wet dew felt cool against her cheek as she sat up and stared at the imposing figure of her mother with hands on her hips.

   “I couldn’t resist, Mother,” pleaded Lyra.  “You know how I enjoy practicing with the boys.  Why won’t Father let me study under Master Caulder?”

   “Your father is the finest mage in Omunga,” scolded Rhodella as she strode over to the errant trio.  “People from all over the country send their children to his Academy to learn magic and you are one of the most gifted of all.  How can you even think of wasting your efforts with this foolish nonsense?  What do you think it does to his reputation to have his own daughter frolicking in the grass with two young boys who shouldn’t even be here?  You waste your talents frivolously and you will end up getting hurt with this . . . this disgusting show of brute force.”

   “Mother,” appealed Lyra, “Father refuses to teach any interesting magic.  I have learned what he is willing to teach, but he refuses to go any further.  It is not exciting anymore.”

   “You mean he won’t teach you to use magic as a weapon,” scolded Rhodella.  “You know your father’s feelings about that, Lyra.  We do not need to air this problem in public.  Get yourself cleaned up and report to him directly.  I am sure that he will have a few choice words for you.  And you two . . . Master Caulder is going to hear of this nonsense, I assure you.”

   “Mother,” pleaded Lyra, “do not involve Syman and Antello in this.  I will take Father’s punishment, whatever it is, but they have no part in it.”

   “No part?” questioned Rhodella.  “Master Caulder has strict rules about practice without supervision.  There are reasons for this, Lyra.  We cannot allow students to hurt themselves while here at the Academy.  If just one student gets killed at the Omunga Academy of Magic, we will hear no end to it.  There are other schools that would gleefully spread the news about our careless methods.  All three of you will have your punishment.”

   Rhodella turned and stormed into the castle.  Lyra rose and smoothed her tunic, trying to rid the rough fabric of dirt before she had to meet her father.  “I’m sorry,” she lamented.  “I guess I wasn’t as careful as I should have been.  I think Walak might have seen me leave.  Now I’ve gotten the two of you in trouble.”

   “Don’t worry about it,” smiled Antello.  “We can handle Master Caulder alright.”

   “Right,” snipped Syman.  “We’ll just let him beat us silly and then we’ll plead for a swift death.  It should all be over quickly.”

   “I’ll . . . “ started Lyra before the sounds of screaming reached her.

   All three turned towards the castle as the sounds of mayhem increased.  The pounding of running horses drifted on the wind and Lyra saw dark clouds of dust from the road leading to the Academy.  The road to the Academy was quite long and Lyra realized that a large group of warriors must be attacking the castle.  Why anyone would attack the Academy was a mystery though.  Looking at her wooden practice sword with disgust, Lyra grabbed Antello as he tried to move towards the rear door of the castle.

   “Without weapons,” she whispered, “we will just be giving them three more victims.”

   “You don’t think they will stop the killing inside do you?” quipped Syman.  “In moments they will be out here to get us, too.”

   “You are right!” exclaimed Lyra looking around frantically.  “Quickly, get into the moat.  Maybe we can circle around to the front and find some weapons.”

   “We'd better find some,” declared Antello.  “I plan on taking a few of the raiders down if I have to do it with my bare hands.”

   “Your hands are not what I would call potent weapons,” quipped Syman as he joined the other two in a mad dash to the dry moat surrounding the castle.

   Lyra looked up from the dry moat and saw the windows to the top floors.  “This is not good enough,” she declared.  “Whoever they are, they will still be able to see us.”

   “Can’t you use some magic to help?” inquired Antello.  “They must teach you something useful in there.”

   “I wish they did,” frowned Lyra.  “The fact is, my father doesn’t believe in using magic as a weapon.  My Uncle Temiker and my Father had a falling out over this very subject and they have not talked since.  They were very close when I was younger and now they won’t even talk to each other.  We should move around to the front.  We can hide under the old drawbridge.”

   The boys nodded as Lyra started crawling along the dirty moat.  Although the moat was no longer filled with water, the ground toward the center of the moat was wet from the spring rains and Lyra tried to keep to the side where it was somewhat dryer.  Still, her hands and knees were soon covered with the slimy mud.  The sounds of screaming and battle floated on the air and Lyra wanted to yell and charge into the castle to battle with the attackers.  She gritted her teeth in frustration as she continued crawling through the filthy moat.  The sun beating down on her back made it feel as if she was being baked in a mud pit and she shivered with relief when the shadow of the castle fell over the moat as they reached the front of the academy.  Looking up, she could see that riders were still coming in from the road and she scurried to the safety of the drawbridge.

   They huddled under the drawbridge in darkness as riders continued to pour into the Academy.  Dust and dirt rained down on the three youngsters as they hid and covered their ears to ease the sound of the hoofs pounding on the wooden planks overhead. The thundering seemed to echo endlessly through Lyra’s mind and she pressed her forehead into the moist dirt before her.  The last of the riders crossed and Lyra lifted her head and shook it.  The screams of death and dying pierced her ears and she almost wished for the horses to come back.

   Syman and Antello fidgeted constantly as if they were about to leap out of the moat and join the battle barehanded.  Lyra looked from one to the other and saw the same tenseness that was usually present in one preparing to spring into battle.  Quickly, she guided her thoughts through the images of scrolls and books that her father used to teach magic.  She sorted through her lessons to find some type of magic that could stop her two friends from running towards their deaths.  She knew that the number of raiders was too great for them to make a difference to anyone inside.

   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 steeled 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.