The Door Within [antikvár]

From Nícíhtmare TO NÍCTHTMARE T he first sword missed Aidan's head by an inch. It slammed into the massive catapult's wheel, stuck for a moment, and jerked free. In that breath of time, Aidan batted away the second sword and threw himself down the hill. This foe was beyond Aidan's skill. His only chance was to get away, to escape with . . . Aidan looked down at the torn parchment in his hand. It was something important, this parchment, something of infinite value, the key to it all—only Aidan could not remember why it was so precious. He only knew that it was and that he must not let the enemy get it. As he ran, Aidan glanced over his shoulder. The knight in dark armor crashed down the hill, gaining rapidly. His cloak trailed behind him like a gray wing, and he swung his two swords in wide arcs, carving the wind. The blades came closer . . . and closer. Before Aidan could run another yard, the knight in dark armor I