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.