“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.