CHAPTER 2THE BLACK CASTLE
She crossed the moat of liquid fire by the iron bridge, although it was red-hot. She did as Kellory had done years before, when first he had come to this place as a boy: soaked her boots in water and run across before the hot iron could sear her feet.
The great gate stood open, a titanic slab of ancient black wood, ajar as it had been when Kellory had first seen it. But now no more did the Sigil of Kellory’s mentor, Phazdaliom, glitter from the wood in dust of emeralds. Now it bore another sign, that of a gloved fist worked into the wood with powdered gray steel.
The Sigil of Kellory? It could only be he, and Carthalla felt thankfulness well up within her heart, for until this very moment she had not been sure the Warlock would have come here.
Entering, she fo
