Chapter Nineteen

Ghaeron roared in frustration.

Nayara, gliding at his side, glanced at him in understanding. She was feeling frustrated as well. They were sweeping above the Ramash Mountains, for the fourth time trying to locate the stronghold of the Alva’himar. It should have been simple, given that Dragons have excellent geographical recall, in addition to their mystical instincts. Ghaeron had been sure of the location when he’d glimpsed the dark structure, but every time he and his sister flew low across that region of the mountains it was as if they had never been there before. Nothing was familiar, and they could have been over any part of the range for all their senses told them. They had even made a few passes while flaming, but nothing was revealed beyond scorched trees, earth, and rock.

The Guardians knew that Dark Magic was at work. The fortress was there. Of that they were certain. But so long as their instincts and mystical senses were being confounded, it had become an exercise in futi