She wanted to help, except she could barely keep Demira going. She had not realized she would need so much strength to keep her spell intact. The girl knew her friends' only hope was to reach the ruins before the wraith. Perhaps if they knew where to go . . . She directed the wind carrying Demira to lift the filly higher above the racing horses. From that vantage point Kelene scanned the darkening horizon. A little to her right she saw something large and dark rising from the plain ahead. It was difficult to distinguish its character in the twilight, yet the irregular outline could be only one thing on this flat plateau. "Moy Tura!" she shouted to Sayyed. A wave of his hand sent her to the forefront, and she led the frantic rush toward the old ruins. Stride by stride the horses drew closer to Moy Tura. Soon everyone could see the high, crumbling walls, the broken parapets, and the empty towers. "There lies your city of the sorcerers,” the wraith suddenly shouted. He was close behind Morad, and his harsh voice made the Geldring cringe.
