The Lost Castle by Michael Pryor

unclenched.
    The magic pipe fell to the ground and the moment fled. The world rushed in and he staggered, assaulted by the sounds, smells and sensations that he had been apart from for a long, long, instant. He took a step back and hissed. He stared at the pipe on the ground, his heart hammering.
    Targesh's mouth hung open and he stared at the pipe as well. 'Adalon?'
    'Look!' Simangee said. 'The river!'
    Adalon, fresh from one wonder, was confronted with another. From the riverbank to the Lost Castle, the river had stopped flowing. It was smooth and still, as if a long pane of glass had been laid across it.
    Simangee stood and reached out a foot. 'It's hard.' She took a step, and another.
    'You're standing on water,' Adalon said, stunned.
    'Magic,' Simangee called as she stood there, arms outstretched. 'Hurry, it may not last.'
    Magic , Adalon thought. He flexed his hand. And pain was the price.
    After an instant's hesitation, Adalon scooped up the pipe and dropped it into a pocket. He then seized his pack and hurried to the riverbank. One deep breath and he stepped out to join his Crested One friend.
    The river was solid and dry underfoot, but Adalon could clearly see the stones of the riverbed beneath. A fish swam by, not worried at all by the strange creatures walking just over its head.
    Adalon looked back to the riverbank. Targesh stood there, shifting uneasily, staring down at the water.
    'Come, Targesh. It's safe,' Adalon called.
    Targesh looked up. 'Water? Safe? Hah!'
    Adalon strode back to his friend. 'Close your eyes. I'll lead you across.'
    Targesh looked at Adalon, searching his face. He nodded and held out his arm.
    'Right,' Adalon said. 'On the count of three. One, two, three !'
    Targesh grunted as they took the first step. Adalon glanced at him and saw that his friend's eyes were screwed shut. For a moment he thought it was comical, the way the huge Horned One was afraid of water, but then he shrugged. We all have our fears , he thought. Together, they marched to where Simangee waited in the middle of the river.
    Simangee was the first to reach the island. She stumbled onto the shore, followed by Adalon. Targesh lurched, opened his eyes, then took a few more steps before turning around and glaring at the river.
    'We're safe,' Simangee said. 'The river is flowing again.'
    Adalon turned to see that the river had lost its hardness. The current had returned, and ripples played on the river's surface in the last, dying light of the sun.
    He stared. Emerging from the scrub on the bank was a long, black shape. Four-legged and furred, with the sinuous grace of a hunter, it threw back its head and gave a high-pitched, choking wail. It sounded frustrated, disappointed, hungry.
    'None too soon,' Adalon said, and patted the pocket that held the magic pipe.
    'Traith, screet or black lurker?' Simangee said, staring at the creature. It was long and low, but at that moment it reared up on its hind legs, sniffing the air. It was as tall as two full-grown Toothed Ones.
    'Does it matter?' Targesh said.
    The black creature dropped to all fours and flowed back through the undergrowth.
    Simangee shivered. 'I'm glad it's there and we're here.'

Seventeen
    Adalon woke with the sun in his eyes. Groaning, he held up a hand and peered through his claws.
    He had fallen asleep in a room in the Lost Castle. It had taken three flights of stairs to get to it, but there were many storeys above. It had appealed to Adalon because of its high ceilings and two large windows, which opened out onto balconies with fine views of the courtyard and the river beyond the walls.
    The room contained little furniture, and this also attracted Adalon. It made him uneasy to think of using a bed where the last dreams were dreamed hundreds of years ago. Instead, he arranged his travel-worn bedroll in a corner.
    Simangee stood on one of the balconies. The stonework around her was carved with the likenesses of birds and fish. Behind her lay the valley.
    She was