Prologue
Kashada the Nightwraith stood very still and waited, watching a doorway from the opposite side of Helm Dwarf-friend's great hall. It was late, and only a few lanterns burned, turned low to save oil. The hall, which soared three stories high with balconies ringing-it at each level, lay shrouded in shadows. Kashada would not be seen among them.
A wisp of a girl in a nightshirt entered the hall from that far doorway. Though the other figure also stayed among the shadows, Kashada could see her plainly. It was Ansa, the Dwarf-friend's lover. The girl padded across the hall in Kashada's direction. Her shoulder-length curls bounced gently in a most provocative way as her hips swayed a tiny bit more than necessary.
Kashada grinned to herself in the darkness of her hiding place. Tramp, she thought. Dwarf-friend likes them saucy.
As the young woman passed the great table and its high-backed chairs, Kashada settled a bit deeper into her own shadows, comforted by their cloaking darkness. She brought a spell to mind, a simple trick that would allow her to become a shadow herself should Ansa hesitate and perhaps sense her presence there. Despite her seeming innocence, the girl was anything but, and Kashada the Veiled One would not risk ruining Zasian Menz's plan by getting caught spying.
Ansa reached a passage leading from the great hall and proceeded down it. As she disappeared from view, Kashada slipped from her hiding place and followed silently after. The shadow-garbed woman reached the hallway and peeked around the corner: the girl stood a few paces away, her back to Kashada. At the far end of the hall, Zasian strode toward them from Helm Dwarf-friend's private chambers. It seemed to Kashada that Ansa cringed. Perhaps Ansa did not wish to be seen, but it was clearly too late.
Kashada watched as Zasian strode toward Ansa and stopped directly in front of her. "Look at me, child," he said, and he reached out to lift her chin with his finger.
The girl shivered at the man's touch, and Kashada had to stifle a chuckle. It was not a shudder of timidity, but of lust. She wants to bed him, too! the Veiled One thought, amused.
If Zasian noticed, he did not react to it. "You know you shouldn't be out here," he said, "especially not dressed as you are."
The man continued his admonishment, but Kashada stopped listening. She used the time to study the girl, scrutinizing every detail. She would need to duplicate Ansa's image as perfectly as possible when the time came. The nightshirt did little to hide the younger girl's shape, and Kashada noted the plump curves with a mixture of appreciation and jealousy.
It has been far too long since I truly looked that... firm, the woman mused.
As Zasian continued to speak, he pulled a pendant from his pocket. He strolled around Ansa, explaining many things
to her, but Kashada ignored him. She focused on the face, the green eyes, the dimples. She established every last feature firmly in her mind's eye. It would need to be perfect to fool Dwarf-friend.
When she was certain she could become Ansa in every way, Kashada turned her attention to Zasian's words once more. "Get yourself out of sight, and don't let me catch you out like this again." His tone was stern, and he pointed down the hall.
"Yes, my lord," the girl said, and she turned and practically ran from him.
When Ansa had vanished through another door, Zasian turned to where Kashada hid. He did not look directly at her, but let his gaze sweep back and forth along the hall. "Well?" he asked, walking slowly, scanning the shadows. "Did you see enough?"
Kashada shimmered into view, letting the darkest of the shadows slide from her. She made a gesture and spoke a soft word, manipulating other bits of shadow. They swirled around her, clinging to her in wisps, changing her appearance. In a matter of heartbeats she was no longer Kashada the Nightwraith. Instead, she stood before Zasian as the girl in the nightshirt.
"Yes, my lord," Kashada said, shifting her voice to mimic Ansa's. She giggled softly.
Zasian frowned and began to circle her, inspecting her form. Kashada followed him with her eyes, shifting her weight and cocking one hip to the side as she had seen Ansa do. She felt his gaze and, despite herself, she felt a tiny shiver run through her.
"It will serve," the man said, sounding unimpressed. He returned to stand in front of her.
Kashada grimaced. You do a better job, she thought.
"You understand what must happen?" Zasian asked.
Kashada glared at him. "We have discussed this many times, priest," she said. "I am no novice at these intrigues."
"Nevertheless," Zasian replied, lifting his nose in a haughty manner, "I must be certain. Cyric will brook no failures on your part."
"Nor will Shar stand for any on yours," Kashada shot back. "Do not presume to lecture me, Menz. I know my task, and my burden. You just make certain you fulfill your end of this bargain."
Zasian studied Kashada's face for a moment, then gave her a curt nod. "Very well," he said. "Remain hidden and wait for the others to arrive. It may take time before we can begin."
Kashada smiled in mocking sweetness at Zasian. He cocked his head to one side, frowning again, but before he could say anything more, she stepped back into the deeper shadows and vanished.
The priest of Cyric shrugged and walked away, moving toward another wing of the Master's Hall.

Time passed slowly, but Kashada had the patience to endure it. She had spent more than a few nights cloaked in darkness and silence, waiting. Events would unfold when they were ready, not when she desired. Secrets and betrayals were most effective when left to simmer.
After a while, Zasian returned with three others following him. Two men and a woman crept along the hall. The first, a short, stocky fellow in a leather jerkin, wore an array of small blades on numerous belts draped across
his body. He had a satchel slung over one shoulder with a weighted net dangling half out of it. Behind him strode a woman, a warrior in heavy mail and brandishing a mace. A taller, thin man brought up the rear, a wand clutched in his hand as his loose trousers and shirt billowed out behind him. Kashada remained hidden and watched as the entourage walked by.
Kashada bristled when the woman passed her position. The Sharran could feel the cloying, sickening radiance of holy power waft from the warrior and knew she bowed to Torm without even needing to see the badge upon her armor. The sensation turned her stomach.
The priestess of Torm slowed a half-step, wrinkling her nose as though she smelled something distasteful.
The Nightwraith shrank back, deeper into the shadows that hid her, and held her breath.
The armored woman turned from side to side as though listening and looking for something. Behind her, the arcanist tapped her shoulder and urged her forward. She frowned and gazed absently around for a heartbeat or two longer, then she nodded and continued.
Kashada exhaled in relief.
At the end of the hall the prowlers paused before the door leading into Helm Dwarf-friend's chambers. Zasian gestured and said something too quiet for Kashada to hear. The shorter of the two men vanished. A moment later, the other male made a gesture and a red-framed doorway of energy appeared before him. The man stepped through and then he, too, vanished, the doorway winking out behind him. Finally, the woman raised her mace and shoved herself through the door. Zasian remained, watching.
Kashada stole from her hiding place and slipped down the
hall toward him, darting from shadow to shadow.
No sounds issued from within the chamber beyond the door. Whatever was happening, someone had made sure through some means, magical or otherwise, that it didn't rouse the rest of the hall.
When she drew close, Kashada paused. She watched the priest, waiting for a sign. Zasian turned toward her and nodded.
With a flick of her fingers, Kashada's body melted into the darkness and she found herself in a shadowy mirror-world of the one she had departed. The features were all there, identical in size, shape, and placement, only different. Everything looked less solid to the woman's eye, and the colors appeared washed out, gray and dull. Only the shadows themselves seemed real, somehow more physically firm than the surfaces upon which they were cast.
No versions of Zasian or anyone else stood within that hall.
Kashada paid no mind to the surreal quality of the place. With practiced ease, she flowed along the shadows, coming up to and then passing through the wall separating the hall from the chamber beyond, the one she knew served as Helm Dwarf-friend's bedchamber. She found the room to be in a similar condition to the passageway behind her. Shadow versions of all the furnishings sat arranged within the confines of the chamber, but of the Master of the Hall, there was no sign.
Kashada moved to a darkened corner and undid the magic of her spell. Instantly, reality returned to normal, and the light of hated Selune shining through the slats of the shutters revealed the mounded form of someone in the bed. Kashada stood unmoving for a moment, watching the sleeping figure
while listening for any signs of disturbance from the chamber beyond the door. Nothing emanated from that place, and Helm Dwarf-friend slept soundly.
Smiling, Kashada crawled into bed beside the man and snuggled up against him. Helm snorted once and rolled toward her, one thick arm coming to rest draped across her waist.
Kashada waited.
A deep thunderous rumble tossed the room around, and Kashada nearly pitched from the bed. She gave a little shriek as Helm cursed and sat up.
"What was that, lover?" Kashada asked, her voice disguised as Ansa's. She huddled close to the man at her side and tried to sound frightened.
"By the Lady's horn, I don't know!" he rumbled, flailing to free himself from the bedcovers. "I'm going to find out, though." He drew up his trousers. "Stay here," he added, turning to look at Kashada. "I'll be back soon."
"Very well," Kashada replied, pulling the covers around herself. "Hurry, lover."
Helm gave her a quick smile and a wink before yanking his shirt over his head and heading out the door. In the chamber beyond, a commotion arose. Kashada watched as Helm reached the door and yanked it open. The man took one stride through and drew up abruptly just as a blazing white light filled the chamber from some source out of Kashada's line of sight.
Kashada heard several gasps, and someone murmured, "Blessed angels!" It was not difficult for her to cower in the sheets and wait as she had been told. She did not want to come face to face with a holy being. The thought turned her stomach.
Take the fool alu and be gone, Kashada thought. Don't come sniffing in here.
She heard a voice ring out. "By Lord Tyr's justice, we claim this fiend for our own purposes." Its tone was thunderous, charged with power. "Do any among you offer reason we should not?"
Some faint murmuring reverberated from the chamber, but none dissented against the speaker.
"Very well," the being continued. "Then this one shall not trouble you again."
Kashada blinked. The blazing light was gone.
Helm turned and looked to Kashada. He nodded once, satisfied that she was safe, then slammed the door. She could hear him, his voice muffled through the portal, demanding to know what in the everlasting Hells was going on.
It took the rest of the night to sort everything out.
By morning, Helm Dwarf-friend was convinced that the city had come under attack, and that his own life had been targeted by a fiendish creature who had attempted to disguise herself as Ansa. His seneschal Zasian, acting on reliable information, had brought a team to the Master's chambers just in the nick of time. The alu had been defeated, and angels in the service of Tyr had taken her away for judgment.
Helm was exhausted when he finally returned to his chambers the following evening. Ansa was there, of course, ready to soothe his tired muscles with her soft, delicate body. She tended to him with all the care and warmth of a young, vibrant lover, and the Master of the Hall did not suspect a thing. When he was asleep not long after, Kashada smiled to herself.
Soon it would be time to raise her secret temple to Shar, within the very heart of Sundabar. And when she was ready, Kashada would bring the Dark Goddess's revenge upon all the North.

Chapter One
The wind howled and buffeted Zasian, and he fought against it. Learning to fly in dragon form was harder than coercing magical energies to aid him in flight. The priest struggled to familiarize himself with subtle shifts in frame. He practiced flexing muscles he never imagined possessing before. It was not easy.
He had to work all the harder because of the distractions. The wind certainly made things more difficult, but that was a mere inconvenience, an occasional jarring shift that he could account for and dismiss. A gust or down shear might startle him, but it would not ruin him.
He felt some residual queasiness from the mushrooms Aliisza had introduced into the dragon's system, too. The occasional rumble or twitch deep in his belly led him to suspect that they were not completely purged. He hoped they would not become a greater problem.
The dragon fighting to regain control of his own body was far more dangerous. Zasian could feel the being's rage, sense the overwhelming power tucked away, pounding futilely against the dweomers he had erected to contain him. Though
he trusted that the magic was strong enough to withstand the raw fury of the dragon, he had to be careful not to succumb to his crafty wit.
That's not quite right, the dragon would say. You're too stiff with the tail. You must let it glide, not twitch. If you'll allow me, I'll demonstrate.
But of course Zasian would not relinquish control, even for an instant. To do so would mean death for him. Still, he admired the beast's efforts, his desire to live. Despite the panic the dragon must have felt from not being in control, he whispered, suggested, always so reasonable, so helpful.
/ understand your fear, dragon, Zasian said, but your efforts are wasted. I know your mind better than you do. My course is set. I know the inevitability of what must happen. You cannot undo this. The dragon grew quiet, and Zasian could feel his fear grow.
He ignored the beast, and the journey continued.
Eventually, the dragon renewed his efforts, but Zasian was prepared. He fought the dragon with the same growing ease with which he battled the unfamiliar shape and muscles.
A searing pain filled the priest's abdomen, and for a startled breath or two he feared that it was the dragon, finally finding some crack in his prison, at last reaching out with some energy to stab at Zasian's presence from within. But the dragon seemed just as surprised as he, and before the beast could take advantage of the priest's confusion, Zasian had his guard up again.
But he was going to be sick.
Damned mushrooms, Zasian thought. I must land. He began to look everywhere below him, desperate for a safe haven. Another sharp, white-hot pain shot through the priest,
and his fear of injury and falling to his death overcame his cautious hesitation. Even if there were any cursed celestials nearby, he would just have to risk it.
The priest spied a smallish bit of land, an uprooted, inverted mountain bobbing and weaving in the tempestuous winds. It slipped in and out of view several times, obscured by the racing, roiling clouds, but Zasian kept his bearing true and half-flew, half-tumbled to its upper surface.
Another sharp agony rammed into his gut as he flopped onto the open space atop the nodule of rock. A handful of scrawny trees whipped around in the fierce breezes, but at least they offered him some cover from unwanted eyes.
Not that anything would be out and about, trying to fly through this, Zasian thought.
He marveled again that the House of the Triad was in such an uproar. It was not known for anything other than idyllic weather, but Cyric's efforts to drive a wedge between Tyr and Helm must have been going better than expected. Zasian almost laughed, imagining the natives' consternation and panic over the disruption to their beloved paradise. A chortle almost escaped his wyrmish maw, but yet another shooting pain turned the sound into a grunt of anguish.
He really was going to be sick.
Zasian was fully in the act of retching something up, struggling to control both the writhing, twitching body and the sentience that wanted it back, when he realized the cause of his distress.
Something was coming through the portal.
Just as he and Kaanyr had crossed into the heavenly plane, another creature was making its way into the House by means of the efreeti sultan's favorite pet.
He and the half-fiend had been followed.
In a brief moment of panic, Zasian worried that whatever was inside him knew he was vulnerable and would attempt to slay him from within. In that heartbeat of alarm, he almost lost his wits, almost allowed the dragon to regain a foothold. But he felt the surge of the dragon's attack and braced himself enough to stem the assault.
Then he coughed once and vomited the interloper free.
Myshik Morueme went sprawling upon the tall grasses at Zasian's clawed feet.

"Justice is not some gaudy cloak," the angel standing opposite Tauran insisted, "worn only when it suits us and later cast aside as unfashionable!" The bronze-skinned deva fanned his white wings in agitation and punctuated his final, harsh words by jabbing his finger into the air. His dark eyes, which matched his short, dark hair, blazed with ire.
The two majestic archons that had arrived at the storm dragon's lair with him stood with their great wings unfurled. They perched on the balls of their feet and watched the proceedings with wary gazes. Except for the feathered appendages, they appeared sublimely human in many ways, but they towered half again as tall as the angel they flanked, who himself stood head and shoulders higher than Aliisza.
The alu saw Tauran's hands clench. He stood confronting his counterpart, his back to her, an unlikely champion in her eyes, shielding Aliisza and her two half-fiend companions from the other angel's ire. "Nor is it a cudgel, existing solely to pummel everything within reach, my old friend," he said, his voice softer but hinting at anger just the same.
That was it, Aliisza realized. An old friend. She remembered the celestial from her first day within the House of the Triad. Tauran had named him Micus then.
At any other time, Aliisza might have marveled at her good fortune, serving as witness to two angels bickering. It was not often that celestial beings disagreed so vehemently, and rarer still that they did so in front of others. Despite the privilege, Aliisza did not celebrate her luck. A warm, intense radiance surrounded the two angels, a glow of divine power that pained the alu to her demonic core. She blinked repeatedly, wanting to look away, but she forced her gaze to remain fixed upon them.
Her very life depended on the outcome.
"Not all justice is equal, Micus," Tauran said in more gentle tones. "You more than most should understand that."
The other deva's eyes narrowed in accusation. "You sound like one of Helm's apologists. Are you straying, my friend? Have you lost your way? Tyr's Court has no more room within it for a wavering, stumbling soul than it does for the likes of these craven wretches."
Beside her, Kaanyr Vhok, Aliisza's lover and commander, issued a low growl and reached for Burnblood, the enchanted blade sheathed at his left hip. The cambion's mouth curled in a faint sneer. His olive skin and white hair held a peculiar tint in the combined light of the strange, surreal chamber in which they stood and the purplish storm beyond its open-air periphery.
At Kaanyr's threatening move, the two celestial creatures flanking Micus grew restless. Their forearms transformed into long, formidable blades that blazed with fire. The cool, damp air of the templelike chamber rippled with the heat. Muted thunder rumbled within the endless storm that roiled beyond the edges of the marbled floor, echoing the strained emotions within.
Though Aliisza often considered Kaanyr's good looks and roguish attitudes irresistible, at that moment her simmering anger with the half-fiend made him come off as more churlish than charming.
Playing the indignant, entitled boor again, Aliisza thought.
She reached out to Kaanyr to halt his petulant behavior, but Kael was already there, placing a restraining hand on his sword arm. Aliisza's half-fiend, half-drow son leaned near Vhok's ear and whispered something. The cambion's eyebrows arched up in surprise and anger, but he stayed his hand before shrugging off Kael's grasp. That charcoal-skinned face never changed expression. Kael stepped back again, clasping his hands together atop the greatsword he held point down before himself.
At a soft word from Micus, the archons relaxed slightly, and the flaming swords winked out, becoming forearms once more.
Aliisza wondered how her son had come by such a blade, as well as the glimmering plate armor that adorned his body. He had donned it shortly after she had awakened, during the moments between Tauran's cryptic plea and Micus's unexpected arrival.
So much had happened in those few moments. Aliisza had been surprised to awaken at all, for tempting a celestial storm dragon to swallow her whole had seemed an addle-brained course at best. Doing so to rescue a lover who had tricked her into the convoluted scheme in the first place was pure idiocy. Even afterward, she had expected Tauran to condemn her for her acts, but instead he had asked for their help. None of it made any sense, and Micus and his twin bodyguards had arrived before Tauran could explain anything further.
So many questions, Aliisza thought, turning her attention toward Tauran once more. And he's the only one with answers.
Tauran spoke, answering Micus's question. "I stray no more than any open-minded member of the Court," he said. "Though I may be a loyal servant of Tyr, were I to refuse to examine all sides of a debate out of blind loyalty, I would be a poor one." Aliisza saw Micus bristle, but he said nothing as Tauran continued. "Though Helm and Tyr disagree, each of their arguments must have some merit. When their feud has ended, I fully expect there will be compromise, with parts taken from each to make the whole. Until then, I show respect to all parties by refraining from premature judgments."
"Perhaps your wisdom is unmatched in such troubling times," Micus admitted—grudgingly, it seemed to Aliisza, "but Tyr's law on this matter is clear and not subject to interpretation. These... these intruders," he said, gesturing at Aliisza and Vhok, his distaste punctuating every word he spoke, "have broken those laws by their very presence here! Justice is absolute in this case, and there is no room for debate. Were Helm able to perform his duties properly, you and I would not even have need to discuss this. Justice already would have been meted out."
"And yet he cannot," Tauran countered, "and I suggest that it is by corrupt design. I dare not speak more here, but I ask you to trust me. Extenuating circumstances exist with regard to their intrusion and should be weighed before judgment is rendered. Let their story be heard, Micus."
The other deva grimaced. "I've known you and called you friend from time immemorial, Tauran, but I think you tread in dangerous places now. I fear your wisdom is lacking in this
instance, but because you have asked it of me, I give you my trust. I pray you do not suffer for it."
With that, the deva gave a curt nod in the direction of the three half-fiends and turned away. With one graceful leap, he took flight, launching himself out into the raging storm beyond the perimeter of the mystical place where the rest of them stood. The other two creatures, as if sensing his intentions, kicked themselves aloft in mirrored motion, following behind Micus. The trio disappeared into the churning, purple clouds.
The moment the three interlopers had gone, Kaanyr spun to stare Kael down. "Don't you ever lay a hand on me again, you son of a mongrel. I will slice it from your arm if you do."
The half-drow blinked his garnet-hued eyes once and said in an even tone, "Please try. So much good would come of ridding the world of you. I welcome the opportunity."
"Kael," Tauran said, moving between them. "Vhok still has a part to play in this. Reign in your killing lust for the moment, please."
The half-drow stepped away and returned his attention to adjusting the straps of his armor.
"And you," Tauran continued, turning to face the cambion, "you would do well to remember to hold your temper in check while visiting the Court of Tyr. Don't make it more difficult than it already is for me to maintain your status as a guest here. Until we can convince them otherwise, most citizens of the Court, like Micus, will perceive you as an invader."
Kaanyr scowled. " 'We'? I have no intention of convincing anyone of anything. That's your game, not mine. When you were bargaining with Micus, you forgot to consult with the bargaining chip. I never agreed to go anywhere with you or tell anyone my 'story.' "
Tauran nodded. "Of course. Forgive me. I should not have presumed." He turned and began to pace, clasping his hands behind his back in a studious manner. "Based on your stance, then, I trust that you would prefer to be considered a deadly intruder to be slain on sight. Is that correct? Please let me know in no uncertain terms how you wish to be treated, so that I might inform the folk of the realm. Once they hear of your unwelcome entry into our Court, they most likely will be lining up for the chance to slay you." He turned back to Vhok and gave the half-fiend a level stare. "So? What say you? Bargaining chip or outlaw? The choice is yours."
Vhok's eyes narrowed, and Aliisza saw his hand twitch, hovering over Burnblood. When Tauran didn't react, Kaanyr relaxed his posture and folded his arms across his chest. "Entice me," he said with that same smug sneer Aliisza was growing tired of. "What do you have to offer me besides your supposed protection from harm, in return for my cooperation?"
"Why, your freedom to return home, of course," Tauran replied with all sincerity. "The portal through which you traveled here has flown away, it would seem, and you will not get far hunting for another." Vhok's expression changed only subtly, but Aliisza could tell he was admitting to the veracity of the angel's comment. "All I ask for in return is that you travel with me back to the Court and explain in exacting detail everything you know about Zasian, his intentions... all of it."
Kaanyr scowled at the mention of the priest's name. "Not as much as I believed, obviously," the cambion muttered half to himself. "His deception was thorough." Vhok straightened again. "But your offer is not strong enough to convince me to admit as much before a court of sniveling wretches such as yourself." He stepped closer to Aliisza. "I think we'd rather
take our chances finding our own way home, without aid from you."
Aliisza sidestepped away from Kaanyr and turned to face him. "Remember what you just said about bargaining chips, and the follies of not consulting with them?" she asked.
Vhok's face darkened in anger. "You would betray me for this... this angeli" he snarled, waving his hand toward Tauran dismissively. "That is not the Aliisza I know. Perhaps Zasian's spells of shielding did not work as well as he promised. The simpering celestial's magical coercion has changed you after all." The cambion adopted a dismayed expression. "He lied about everything else, why should I have expected him to be truthful in this?"
Aliisza ignored Kaanyr's shallow tactic. "He's not the only liar," she shot back, letting that simmering anger erupt at last. "You deceived me, you bastard," she said, shoving her chin up a bit in defiance. "You let him weave spells upon me, let me become hunted and caught, let me suffer an angel's 'healing ministrations,' all for your own gain! You put my child, a child I didn't even realize I bore, in danger!" She gestured toward Kael, who had stopped studiously ignoring the whole proceeding and was now watching the two fight with an implacable stare.
Kaanyr snorted in derision. "A child that was not mine!" he said. "The moment I'm out of your sight, you're tumbling between the sheets with a drow wizard and who knows what else!"
Aliisza rolled her eyes. "Don't play indignant with me," she said with equal coldness. "You've shared many another maiden's bed in your time, too. We both know that we do what we do. It's beside the point." The alu waved her hand to dismiss his argument. "You thought the child was yours when
you hatched this scheme. You believed you were sending your own son into harm's way, and me along with him, for your personal gain."
"It worked, didn't it?" Kaanyr asked. "You and I are both standing here, at the other end of the journey, aren't we? Why are you whimpering about it?"
"I'm not," the alu retorted through clenched teeth. His ability to change the argument around never failed to annoy her. "As I said, we do what we do, and I shouldn't expect anything different from you." She stepped back, joining with Tauran and Kael, leaving the cambion by himself. "Just don't expect me to 'take my chances' with you when there are better offers on the table."
And don't expect me to leave my son just because he's not your child, she silently added.
Kaanyr stood glaring at the alu for a long moment, as if sizing her up. Finally, shaking his head almost in disgust, he shrugged. "Very well," he said, turning to Tauran. "Let's negotiate."
"My offer still stands," the angel said. "Your freedom to return home in exchange for your testimony before an assemblage of high members of the Court. Everything you can recall concerning Zasian in exchange for free passage from this place with your health intact."
"A fine bargain for most, I'm sure," Kaanyr replied, folding his arms across his chest once more and beginning to pace, "but I require something more."
"The reason you came here in the first place," Tauran said. "It must be a great prize, if you were willing to risk your lover, your child, and your own life in order to claim it."
Kaanyr nodded. "Indeed. And I will have it before I return to claim Sundabar as my own. But it is a trifling thing for you
to grant, I think, and thus not something that should cost overly much." He drew a deep breath and said in the most casual, off-hand way, "I wish to bathe in the Lifespring, to partake of its influences."
"1 see," Tauran said, sounding doubtful.
"As I said, a simple request, easily granted. And in exchange, I will happily provide you and your assemblage the most exacting, detailed tale of Zasian Menz I can muster."
Tauran shook his head. "Alas, it cannot be, Vhok, for that is a sacred pool, and you are not worthy to enjoy its soothing, healing embrace. It is, after all, the very potency of godhood."
"I will have its energies," Kaanyr said. "Even if I must slay every one of you stinking, self-righteous poofs to get to it."
The sharp ring of sword on marble was the only indication to Aliisza that Kael had moved, but almost instantly he was standing between Vhok and the other two. "Me first," he said, assuming a defensive stance. "Whenever you're ready."
Kaanyr pulled Burnblood free and dropped into a crouch of his own. "I see you inherited your father's bluster," the cambion said, beginning to circle. "And it seems you are also destined to inherit his method of demise—at the hands of demons." He feinted a strike at Kael's leading knee, but the half-drow slid his much larger blade into place to block the blow with a mere flick of his wrists.
Later, Aliisza would find it difficult to recall the word that Tauran muttered. The instant after he did so, however, a thundering, concussive roar and a blinding flash of light slammed against her, knocking her to the marble floor in a daze. As the world around her tilted askew, she curled into a fetal ball and clamped her hands over her ears, fighting to regain her equilibrium and sight.
As the ringing and afterimage of searing whiteness faded from her ears and eyes, the alu rose onto her knees and looked around. She saw Kaanyr sprawled nearby, his arms clamped around his own head. Burnblood lay unattended a few paces away. Then he, too, sat up, blinking and rubbing at his eyes.
"Enough," Tauran said. "You try my patience."
Beside the angel, Kael had returned to his stoic stance, greatsword point down before him. He seemed none the worse for wear from Tauran's powerful magic.
"If you wish to die trying to gain access to the Lifespring, I will not try to discourage you from it. But that was just a taste of what I and my kind can inflict upon you here within the Court, Vhok. Do not consider yourself so potent that we all would fall helplessly before your blade."
Kaanyr grimaced but said nothing.
"If such a quest is so important to you, then at least hear me out before you begin your I’ll-conceived rampage. I propose an expansion of our bargain. You desire to claim the powers of the Lifespring for your own. Though rare is the instance when outsiders are permitted to draw on its essences, such an act is not unheard of. In such dire circumstances as these, I believe I can bring it to fruition for you."
Kaanyr cocked his head to one side, considering. "I'm listening," he said quietly.
Tauran continued. "The price you will pay is steep. You must earn this blessing, Vhok. You must redeem yourself in some fashion, not only for your trespasses against the Court of Tyr, but for your very base nature itself. Only by serving me for a time that I choose and in a task I designate do you fulfill your end of this bargain. In exchange for that service, I will persuade the Court to permit you full access to the Lifespring."
"What type of service? What duration? I will not agree to vagaries, angel. Your terms must be explicit. I will not succumb to trickery."
Aliisza had to turn her face away to keep from letting Kaanyr see her smile. So he thinks, she thought. How little he knows.
"You must aid me in stopping whatever scheme Zasian Menz, priest of Cyric, plots within this realm. You must assist me in hunting him down, capturing him, and putting a stop to his machinations."
"That could take but a few hours or tendays on end!" Vhok exclaimed. "I do not have the luxury of limitless time to devote to this."
"Then you have no accord with me," Tauran replied with cold finality. "That is the price you must pay for claiming the benefits of the Lifespring. And know this, Vhok. I will bind you to this service once you agree to it of your own free will. You will be coerced to comply with your end of the bargain."
Vhok rubbed his chin with his hand. "What if Zasian succeeds with whatever scheme he has developed before we catch him? What if he accomplishes his plot and returns to Toril before we can put a halt to it?"
"If we come to a point where your services are no longer beneficial, 1 will release you from your servitude and permit you to return unharried to your home, but you will not so much as set eyes on the Lifespring in that case."
There was a long silence then, as the angel and the cambion eyed one another, each waiting for the other to flinch, to falter and give the other the final upper hand.
"Think of it this way," Kael spoke at last. "He offers you a chance at revenge against your betrayer. I know your kind, Vhok. You'd like nothing more than to hunt Menz down
and ruin his plans. That's what you do, isn't it? Disrupt and depredate?" It was the first time Aliisza had seen Kael smile. It was Pharaun's smug smirk, and it unnerved her.
Kaanyr mused a moment longer, then turned to Aliisza. "Walk with me," he said, and he took her by the elbow and led her away. They followed the edge of the pool of water, passing through the mist that wafted from its surface until they were almost out of sight of the other two. Aliisza began to wonder if Kaanyr had deemed their chances higher if they simply fled right then. She cast a glance back, at Kael in particular. She was not yet ready to abandon her son, despite the strange nature of his behavior. Whatever his upbringing, he was still her child.
"What do you think of the idiot's offer?" Kaanyr asked as he stopped and turned her to face him. "You've dealt with him before. How cagey is he being? What tricks will he try to play upon us?"
Oh, no, Aliisza thought. You must run this gauntlet on your own, just as you forced me to do. Aloud she asked, "What's so important about this bath?" It had better be damned exhilarating, she thought, to send me through all I've endured just to get yourself here. "What is this Lifespring you keep speaking of?"
"It is a wellspring of golden waters that brims with the energy and power of godhood. Though it would not make me a god, it would grant me the power to rule like I have never had before. With that magic at my command, I could enter Sundabar not as a mere conqueror but as a beloved leader, a sovereign worth worshiping. The people would cast out Helm Dwarf-friend, pull him from his throne, and kneel before me in adoration, never wondering why at all."
Aliisza looked upon Kaanyr's face, so full of rapturous,
fervent conviction, and had to keep from shuddering. His preoccupation with unseating the Master of the Hall of Sundabar had gone beyond sensible. He was edging close to the abyss of unreason.
So be it, she thought. "Everything he will tell you is truth. Every promise he makes to you will be honored. He cannot help it. It is his nature."
"That's not what I asked you. Can you see any trickery in his offer? Have I established the parameters solidly enough? Is there anything I am missing?"
It's not what you think you see that gets you, she thought. That's only what he distracts you with. It's what you never expected that will be your undoing. And you'll deserve every last bit of misery from it, you bastard. "Only that the timing is so vague. All the impetus is on you to help catch Zasian quickly. Succeed admirably, and you gain all that you seek. Falter or fail, and your prize becomes less and less valuable."
"Yes," Kaanyr replied, stroking his chin again. "And though the angel has every impetus to accomplish this quickly—at least based on his comments to Micus—your whelp has every reason to interfere, to watch me fail spectacularly. In truth, he might already be instructed to trip me up, just at my moment of glory. We can't have that," the cambion said with a chuckle. "I'll just have to make sure that sabotage is prohibited in the contract."
With that, he turned and strode back toward the other two, leaving Aliisza without so much as a thank you. The alu stared daggers into his back then followed after him. She couldn't wait to see how Tauran yanked the rug from beneath Kaanyr.
"You have my solemn word," Tauran was saying as Aliisza rejoined the group, "that neither Kael nor I will do anything
to thwart you from completing your duties, nor will we urge anyone else in the service of the Triad to do so. If you succeed in helping us stop Zasian, you will have nothing but our gratitude."
"And the right to immerse myself in the Lifespring," Kaanyr added.
"Yes," Tauran said.
"Which will grant me the legendary powers it is renowned for. I will gain preternatural leadership qualities. All mortals who look upon me will wish to worship at my feet."
"I cannot promise that each and every one of them will be enslaved to your charms, but your influence and charisma will be august."
"And the freedom after that to return to Sundabar and claim its throne, with no interference from you or anyone else within this realm."
"You may leave here unmolested at that time, but once you return to your home, how you choose to wield your newfound powers and the Court's reaction to it are beyond the scope of this agreement."
"Good enough," Kaanyr said. "I accept."
Tauran nodded and closed his eyes, as if in prayer. When he opened his eyes again, Aliisza wondered if he had woven the coercive magic upon Kaanyr. "It is done," he said. "You are now bound to serve me until your appointed task is complete."
The cambion frowned as the angel turned to the alu.
"And you?" Tauran asked.
Aliisza shrugged. "I have no need to bathe in the Lifespring," she said, smiling in bemusement. "I see no reason to agree to anything other than what you offered me before. In exchange for what I know of Zasian—which is quite little, actually—I am free to return to Toril."
Kaanyr gaped at her for several seconds. In return, she smiled at him. "How does it feel?" she asked in her sweetest, most innocent voice.
"You treacherous, conniving little—"
"Help us anyway." It was Kael who had spoken, and he looked at his mother with a strange expression.
Aliisza wasn't certain what it conveyed.
"Why?" she asked, a sense of caution sweeping over her. "What's in it for me?"
"The chance you wanted before, back in the garden," the half-drow replied. "The chance to know me." Aliisza wasn't sure how to respond. It was almost as if he were baiting her. "If you return to Toril, to your home, that will be it. Whatever chance you have of showing me your maternal love will be lost to you. /will be lost to you."
Aliisza peered into those garnet eyes and felt a deep pain in the core of her being. Despite the notion that her transformation into a being of goodness had all been a lie, a deceit of Tauran's from which Zasian's magic had shielded her, there was still some truth in that message of selflessness. If she walked away, no matter how much fun it would be to spite Kaanyr, she would never see her son again.
"Very well," she said in a small voice. "I will remain here and help you." Then she quickly added, "But of my own volition. I do not submit to any magical coercion, Tauran," she said, giving Kaanyr another smug smile. He only glared at her in return.
"As you wish," the angel said in answer. "You serve of your own free will. But know this; should you interfere with my efforts at some point in the future, I will also have no compunction against dealing with you." There was a hint of something dangerous in the deva's tone as he said that.
Aliisza nodded.
"Now then," Tauran said, "it's time to explain to you all that has happened since you escaped the garden. Incidentally, because of the nature of the portal you traversed to get here, time has flowed quite differently for you two than for Kael and me. Twelve years have passed since the day you entered the storm dragon's maw."
Kaanyr's howl of anguish and betrayal made Aliisza clamp her hands over her ears.

Chapter Two
Zasian reared back from the half-dragon sprawled before him. The priest expected the whelp of Clan Morueme to attack him the moment he became lucid, but Myshik only writhed upon the grass in obvious pain.
He burns, Zasian realized. Already, terrible lesions had formed on the bluish skin, ugly and red. Some had begun to fester, becoming yellow pustules. Vhok and Aliisza had had the benefit of the water, he remembered. The foul bile from the dragon's innards did not punish them as severely.
Myshik groaned and tried to wipe away the caustic fluids from the storm dragon's stomach that coated him, but each touch made him twitch and recoil. Zasian merely watched for a moment, wondering what had possessed the creature to follow him and the cambion through the portal. He's either a fool or totally devoted to his cause, the priest decided. Either way, I cannot have him interfering.
Zasian rose up, prepared to lash at Myshik with a rake of his claws. He would rend the draconic hobgoblin into pieces and be done with him. But Myshik saw the movement and sprawled forward onto his stomach as if in supplication.
"Master," he said, almost plaintively, "heal me and I am yours to command."
Zasian halted his impending strike. "Serve me?" he asked. He had not thought of such a possibility. "Why would you choose to serve me now, after...." Suddenly, he realized that Myshik did not recognize him as the priest accompanying Vhok. The half-hobgoblin only perceived him as a great storm dragon.
"I am lost in this place, and you are kin," Myshik said, looking up. "Why would I not? All I ask is that you reward me for my faithful service, that I may someday return to my clan a hero." He grimaced in pain.
Zasian wanted to smile. Yes, he thought, I'll reward you. But before I destroy you, perhaps I can make some use of you after all.
"Why are you here?" he demanded, letting the deep, rumbling voice of the storm dragon wash over Myshik. "How did you come to be inside me?"
"I—I followed someone," the draconic hobgoblin replied, sounding uncertain. "The foe of my sire, a greedy fiend." Myshik paused, grimacing. When the suffering lessened, he continued. "He and another entered a most peculiar passage, perhaps a portal to this place. Did any others arrive as I did?"
"Why do you seek this fiend?" Zasian asked, letting his borrowed voice continue to boom. "What interest does he hold for you?"
"It is my uncle's bidding that I slay this fiend. Back where I come from, he and his army encroach upon my clan's territory. If I were to defeat him and return home with proof of the deed, I would be honored among my kind."
Zasian considered a moment. "Very well," he said, "I will
accept your servitude. Our purposes might not be so crossed, it would seem."
Do you know the efreeti saying that the enemy of my enemy is my friend? Zasian wondered. But he kept his identity to himself.
The priest contemplated how best to heal the creature abasing himself before him. Between the battle within the sultan's palace and the unexpected fight with the angel and his sidekick upon arriving on the plane, Zasian had exhausted the majority of his divine magic. After fleeing from the deva, he had needed the rest of it to treat his own wounds. He had nothing left to give, at least for the moment.
Besides, he thought, I don't want to give too much away about myself. He wouldn't suspect a dragon of such divine power as I have, so why tip my hand? Zasian had an idea.
"Can you travel?" he asked Myshik.
The hobgoblin nodded.
"Then I will bear you to a place where you can bathe in the very energy of the gods. The waters I know of will cleanse you of any taints and poisons, scour away your wounds, and fill you with the power to aid me as only a suitable servant should. In return for this boon, I expect you to hold to this bargain we make here. If you break our agreement, I will hunt you down and destroy you. Is that understood?"
Myshik nodded. "I so swear it."
Without further deliberation, Zasian scooped the draconic creature up and hoisted him into the air. Once aloft, he began beating his powerful wings, flying into the howling wind, taking them both toward the heart of the House of the Triad.
"We can't stay out here in this!" Tauran screamed, but Aliisza could barely hear him. The chill, biting wind stole his words away as it lashed the four travelers. Stinging sleet pelted them as they descended through gray, roiling clouds, making the alu squint. When a particularly vicious gust pummeled her, Aliisza went tumbling and nearly lost sight of her companions.
This can't be right, Aliisza thought, struggling to straighten herself. We should have left those storms behind by now.
Nearby, Kaanyr also fought to remain aloft. The howling gale buffeted him, spinning him like desiccated leaves churned up from the forest floor. His cloak whipped around his body, periodically enveloping his head. He yanked it free and pushed onward, seemingly oblivious to the stinging pellets of ice.
Through it all, the cambion never stopped scowling.
It's his own fault, Aliisza thought, flapping her own wings with furious strokes to close the distance between herself and Tauran. She had to stay close enough to avoid losing sight of the deva, but not so close that they might collide because of the storm. He's so bull-headed lately.
The cambion had screamed and ranted at the other three for several long moments after Tauran's shocking revelation. Stunned herself, Aliisza hardly noticed his reaction at the time.
Twelve years? she had thought. How is that possible?
But Tauran had been forthright, and Kaanyr realized that he had been duped, had been played despite all his careful scrutiny of his deal with the angel. He had yanked Burnblood free, but even with all the rage spilling from him, the cambion was unable to strike at any of them. The magical coercion that Tauran had woven into the bargain prevented Vhok from interfering with the objectives or its participants. Aliisza
realized only later that her decision to aid in the quest had spared her from Kaanyr's attack.
Not that he hadn't tried, she remembered. In his moment of unreasoning outrage, she had seen the burning hatred in his eyes, watched as the muscles corded in his neck from the strain of wanting to kill her then and there. For whatever reasons, real or imagined, he blamed her for his predicament.
He let himself fall into Tauran's trap, I had nothing to do with it. Well, that's not exactly true, she admitted, feeling a rather uncomfortable emotion.
It surprised the alu that she could experience such a debilitating thing as guilt. In the past, she had always blamed such silly frailties on the human side of her and then promptly buried them, but she found herself reluctant to tamp down her own emotions at that moment. Perhaps the time spent in Tauran's care had affected her more than she might have liked.
Never mind, she told herself. Just keep up!
Tauran was saying something and gesturing downward, but Aliisza could not hear the angel's words. Nonetheless, she nodded and tried to follow, her flight made clumsy in the gale.
Just beyond Tautan, Aliisza could barely make out Kael's form. Her son was also fighting the wind, working to fly where the deva directed. Wings that had sprouted from his boots bore him, and though to the alu's eye they seemed incapable of effectively bearing the half-drow, they served their purpose well enough. He seemed at ease, following his mentor as if he had trained for it most of his life.
He has, Aliisza reminded herself, reflecting on the angel's unwelcome news from yet another perspective. He's spent a dozen more years following Tauran around.
That thought made the alu profoundly sad and jealous all at once. Her mind had a hard time accepting the idea that she had been trapped within the storm dragon's gullet for more than a decade. It had seemed like mere moments to her and Kaanyr.
I had already lost his childhood, Aliisza lamented, and now this.
During all that time, Kael had grown up under Tauran's care, studying with the angel and embracing the teachings of the gods who dwelt within the House of the Triad. Tauran had been given so many years of Kael's life to mold and sculpt, making him a being of goodness and light.
And now he's some soldier devoted to Torm, Aliisza thought, feeling the sadness and resentment wash over her again. A divine champion, chasing after Tauran and all the fool causes he embraces. And I missed the chance to let him see the truth.
Aliisza vowed to change that. She promised herself that she would unmake what Tauran had crafted in her absence. Though she wasn't sure how, she would not go down without a fight. Kael was her son, not the angel's.
A burst of wind rocked Aliisza again, dragging her from her thoughts and resolutions. Tauran had surged far ahead, with Kael close behind him, and she and Kaanyr had lagged behind, she lost in her contemplations and he fighting his cloak. The angel and the champion vanished within the thick mists of the nearest cloud. Fearing that she would lose them, Aliisza went into a dive to try and catch up. Angling her body and folding her arms and wings in tight, she descended like an arrow. She tried to ignore the flecks of ice that stung her face, squinting for some sign of Tauran and Kael.
She plummeted into the cloud and lost all sense of depth
or direction. The disorientation lasted only a moment before she was out the other side. Below her stretched the vast panorama of the plane, with its myriad floating masses of land, all of them uprooted clumps of earth with raw, jagged undersides. She spotted Tauran and Kael too, not so far ahead as she had feared. They drifted toward a particularly large island of rock, one that sported several ridges with a hollow in the center, like some mountain valley surrounded by aged, weathered peaks.
A forest dominated the terrain, and as she drew closer, the alu could see that many of the trees were mighty elder things, akin to the tallest specimens she had seen in the ancient forests of Toril. Even so, the wind lashed at their branches, sending the crowns of the great trees whipping back and forth in the maelstrom. Aliisza also noted that a thin veneer of white had begun to accumulate upon the massive floating mass, swirling sleet and snow pellets combining with a glaze of outright frost.
Tauran led the way into a small meadow in the midst of the ancient trees. He came to rest near the center of the clearing but immediately moved off to one side, seeking shelter beneath the bowers and trunks. Aliisza fought the swirling, slashing wind and managed to follow him down. The moment her feet touched solid ground, she huddled against the blasts of frigid air and trotted after the angel. Kaanyr and Kael followed close behind.
Once within the relative protection of the forest, Tauran found an outcropping of stone that jutted up like a canted fist. He moved into the lee of the rock, wedging himself close against it. Aliisza and Kael joined him, and soon they huddled together out of the worst of the weather. Kaanyr stood out a few paces, paying no mind to the stinging sleet and snow.
"We'll rest here a moment," the angel said, breathing heavily, "before we continue on."
Aliisza nodded gratefully and struggled to catch her breath. "What is this?" she asked after a time, gesturing all around them vaguely. "What's happening?"
Tauran grimaced. "Upheaval. Catastrophe. Turmoil," he said.
"Speak plain, deva," Kaanyr snapped. "What does that mean?"
"He means," Kael interjected before Tauran could speak, "that this is what happens when the gods quarrel."
Tauran nodded. "Yes. Tyr and Helm are having an argument. They are both very angry, and their anger has spilled out to engulf all of the House."
"What's their quarrel?" Aliisza asked, surprised to see such vehemence made manifest. "Micus hinted at a disagreement, but this?" She gestured again. It was as if the deities were ripping the cosmos apart.
"The minds of the gods are difficult to fathom," Tauran answered. "Perhaps the solars who attend them know more, but even they aren't divulging much. All we know is that it has to do with Ilmater's departure, and Tyr's choice to replace him within the Triad."
Kaanyr snorted. "What a waste of time," he said, rolling his eyes, "fretting over the loss of that martyred idiot. The weakest, most pathetic—"
The cambion's words were cut short as Kael shifted his position to level his greatsword at him. "Do not speak of the Crying God in such an irreverent manner."
Vhok returned the glare and reached for his own blade, but Tauran growled, a deep, reverberating sound that froze everyone in place.
"Enough!" he screamed. "I will not tolerate these constant displays of bravado! Kael, our bargain with the half-fiend does not preclude him from expressing his opinions. If he chooses not to honor Ilmater as you might, that is his business. Leave him be."
Kael frowned and opened his mouth as if to argue, but then seemed to think better of it. With a single, curt nod, he withdrew his blade and leaned against the outcropping, arms folded across his armored chest.
"And you," Tauran said, addressing Kaanyr. "You will not so easily wriggle free of your obligation. The geas upon you may permit you to defend yourself should we attack you, but it will take more than taunts and veiled insults to expend our patience. Your energy would be much better served in aiding us than trying to trick us. We are not easily duped."
Kaanyr glowered for a moment then broke into a smile. It was the first time in quite some while that Aliisza could remember the cambion doing so. "Now that I know how much it galls you to suffer my remarks, you may rest assured that they will come thick and often. I will never be your lackey, deva."
Tauran stared levelly at Kaanyr for several moments. His face remained neutral, with the exception of one corner of his mouth twitching. Then he shrugged. "It will change nothing."
"So why did Ilmater depart?" Aliisza asked. "And whom did Tyr choose?"
"Tymora," Kael answered, pushing himself away from the rock to stare out past Kaanyr into the swirling weather. Aliisza wasn't certain if there was disapproval in the half-drow's voice or not.
Tauran nodded. "Yes, Tymora," he said. "Ilmater went to
Sune's embrace and now dwells with her in Brightwater. Many believe Tyr holds similar feelings for Tymora and has asked her to come to him for the same reasons."
Kaanyr snorted again. "So everyone is sharing someone's bed. Hardly seems a worthy reason for raising such a storm," he said.
"There are those who believe Siamorphe would make a better choice," Tauran replied, "including Helm. The Watcher, for whatever reason, has chosen to make his feelings known. Somehow, he sees it as his duty to challenge Tyr's decision."
Aliisza sighed. "And thus their followers argue, debating the merits of each god's position."
Tauran nodded. "Such is the way of the gods sometimes," he said. "Despite your condescension, our lives are not so different from your own. There is strife in all things. We simply choose to resolve it differently."
Kaanyr chuckled. "Yes, casting a deadly squall across the entire plane is definitely a more noble and righteous means of resolving things," he said. "You should be proud."
Aliisza noted Tauran's lips purse in anger, but the deva didn't reply.
"Tell me," Kaanyr asked, "are you looking forward to victory? Will it feel good to point out to all of Helm's followers after the fact that yours was the superior position? Or maybe you're worried about backing the losing side? Maybe there's a little fear gnawing at you that you'll be the one scorned and ridiculed."
Tauran's expression darkened.
"Yes, I can see it," Kaanyr continued, "a hint of something less than wholesome. Deep down, you secretly know you're either going to be very satisfied or thoroughly ashamed. And no matter which way things are decided, you'll be forevermore
scarred with the flaw of imperfection. No more glorious white light surrounding you, angel. No more air of righteous smugness that you are beyond reproach. I've changed my mind about all this." He gestured beyond their coarse shelter. "I want to stick around, just to see you fall."
Kael turned and stepped between his mentor and Vhok, facing the deva. "His words are pointless," the half-drow said. "Ignore his lies." Unlike before, when he had seemed so eager to punish the cambion for his irreverence, Kael's demeanor was stoic, pointedly ignoring Vhok.
He's recognizing how Kaanyr is trying to bait them, Aliisza realized. He's starting to see how manipulative and devious Kaanyr can be. The alu had long considered that one of her lover's more endearing qualities, but at that moment, she also felt a swelling of pride course through her for her son. Perhaps he's not as naive and idealistic as I thought.
"We have other issues to consider," Kael said, drawing Tauran's attention away from Vhok's taunts. "It will be nightfall soon, and we'll never reach the Court in this storm. We must either find or build better shelter here."
"No," Tauran replied. "We won't stay here."
"But the storm grows worse," the half-drow argued. "We can't attempt to reach the Court until things improve."
"There is a village on the far side of the valley," Tauran answered, pointing toward the middle of the island of rock. "We can reach it on foot. We'll go there and wait out the storm."
Kael nodded in acceptance, and the quartet set out. Tauran led the way while the half-drow brought up the rear. Aliisza watched as Kaanyr struggled futilely against the magical bonds, but after a moment's exertion he was plodding along behind the angel. Aliisza took up a position beside him, risking his wrath in order to speak with him.
"How long do you intend to fight this?" she asked him— softly so the other two could not hear.
"What do you care?" Kaanyr snapped at her. "You can fly away home any time it suits you. If you find my struggles unpleasant, you don't have to remain and watch them."
"I chose to stay," she said, "for more than just him." She jerked her head once back behind the two of them.
"Truly?" Kaanyr asked, his voice mocking. "You have room in your heart for more than your precious son? I find that difficult to believe. He is, after all, so perfect, a creature of goodness and noble upbringing."
"So is it him you hate, because he isn't yours? Or is it me? Either way, it's pathetic. If it's him, why do you care? He was nothing more than a tool to you before, when he was the means of getting me into this place. And as for me, you didn't seem to have a problem throwing me into Pharaun's or Helm Dwarf-friend's bed when it benefited you. You cannot have it both ways, Kaanyr."
The cambion was silent, and when Aliisza risked a glance at his face, he seemed deep in thought.
"What's done is done, you always say, lover. So now I ask: Am I not still yours?" She slipped into that old familiar sultry purr and began to saunter. "Do you not desire me still?"
"You betrayed me to his trap," Kaanyr replied, scowling. "You think I'd take you into my bed now?"
Aliisza's eyes narrowed coldly. "You betrayed yourself," she spat. "You became so consumed with conquering that city, so preoccupied with unseating Helm Dwarf-friend, that you forgot your caution and abandoned your cleverness. You were willing to sacrifice everything"—she paused, giving him a pointed stare— "everything you had for that dubious prize. So do not scold me of betrayal."
They trudged on in silence for a moment more, then Aliisza continued. "Besides, Tautan took nothing from you that Zasian did not already steal. He merely forced you to do something about it on his terms rather than your own. Though I don't blame you for despising him, you ought to be thankful for the chance to work with him to undo that damnable priest. Think of it as an unexpected advantage."
Kaanyr looked at her for several long moments, his eyes boring intensely into her own. "Do not expect me to enjoy it," he said at last. "And do not think I care one whit for either of their lives. Whatever you may think of them, I do not share in it.
Aliisza laughed. "You think I've suddenly developed delusions of a conscience? You think I'm so different? Zasian did his work well, my love! All of that sickly sweet caring and sacrifice business was just a game. When all is said and done, I still serve one person only." Me, she silently added.
"We shall see," Kaanyr replied.
The group continued on in silence after that, following the path Tauran blazed through the ancient trees. Aliisza caught herself marveling at their majesty, and she was thankful for the protection they provided from the blustering wind. Beyond their tops, out of sight and muffled through their foliage, she could hear deep rumbles, as of almost continuous thunder.
Soon after, the alu realized they had begun following an actual path. It was narrow, little more than a game trail, but it led down into the center of a great valley. Occasionally, Aliisza caught a glimpse through breaks in the forest of a great open
space in the middle of the depression. Though it was hard to tell with the swirling snow and sleet, she believed she caught sight of buildings, too. They were getting closer.
When they neared the edge of the clearing, Aliisza first noted it by the increase in the wind. Tauran led them out of the trees, still following the path, which did indeed take them toward a small gathering of simple cottages clustered together. The alu caught the faint whiff of smoke and thought she could hear a startled scream.
When Tauran sprinted forward, she knew it had not been her imagination. As one, the four of them rushed into the village. More screams erupted from among the cottages, and then Aliisza could see the flames of a fire spreading along a rooftop.
Tauran surged forward, but Kaanyr drew up suddenly, staring at the sky. "Gods and devils," he breathed.
Kael nearly ran into the cambion from behind. "Go!" he shouted. "There are folk in-trouble!"
But Kaanyr did not move. Instead, he only pointed skyward, and both Kael and Aliisza turned to stare.
Another great island of land filled the sky and grew larger as it tumbled toward them.

Chapter Three
Kaanyr stood rooted to the spot, staring at the massive rock island tumbling slowly, inexorably, toward them. His sense of depth seemed askew to him. The great edifice appeared large and dangerously close, yet the haze of swarming, wind-whipped clouds still partially obscured it, revealing how far away and vast it truly was. His mind couldn't reconcile the disparity between the two.
As Aliisza and Kael ran forward, chasing after Tauran, Kaanyr shouted, "We have to get clear!"
Kael stopped and turned back, motioning for the cambion to follow. "No! We must save these people!" He shouted to be heard in the whistling wind.
Kaanyr refused to budge. "That's not part of the bargain!" he shouted back. "I agreed to help you stop Zasian, not rescue peasants!"
Kael grimaced only slightly. "For all we know, Zasian did this!"
And there it was. The half-drow had planted the seed. Kaanyr's whole world shifted. Moments previous, he could have freely risen aloft, taken to the air to escape the doom that
threatened them. Once the concept had been tied to Zasian's machinations, though, the cambion could no more flee than he could sprout fins and swim through stone. Bastard, Kaanyr fumed.
Even as he imagined ways to rend the half-drow, he found himself trotting forward, preparing to lend a hand.
Tauran reached the outskirts of the simple village and threaded his way through the outlying cottages and disappeared between them, heading toward the fire. Aliisza darted after him with Kael at her heels. Kaanyr shook his head in consternation and followed them. Once past the outer ring of homes, he could see that a longhouse near the center square had caught fire. The flames, fanned by the crazed winds, had become a great, swirling column, engulfing the building and threatening others nearby.
A crowd of folk, humans by the look of them, had gathered. Many just stood watching helplessly as others tried to douse the flames with buckets of water. Tauran moved among the fire brigade and frantically gestured with his hands. At first, Kaanyr thought the angel was telling them to get away from the conflagration. He quickly realized his mistake when a cascade of water tumbled from nowhere upon the flames. Though the divinely summoned water diminished the fire, it was not enough. Already, smoke poured off a nearby barn.
Gods and devils, the cambion silently swore. Forget the fire! Get these cretins out of here!
Aliisza reached Tauran and Kaanyr could see her grab him by the shoulder. The alu had shifted her form slightly, looking completely human, though she had not changed her features. She spun the angel around and pointed into the sky at the drifting crag that approached. Kaanyr reached them just as Tauran's eyes grew wide in disbelief. Kaanyr glanced at the
huge bulwark again and saw that it was on a trajectory to pass right over them, on a course to strike the far side of the mass of earth upon which they stood.
It missed us, he thought, relieved.
"We must get these folk to safety!" the angel shouted. "Hurry!"
Kaanyr looked at Tauran, confused. "It won't strike here!" he replied, pointing downward, at his feet. "It's going over there," he said, pointing into the distance. "The hamlet is safe."
Tauran shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Once they collide, this whole island will be rocked to its core. It might begin to shift sideways, or worse yet, shatter and crumble apart beneath our feet. We have to get them off!" He gestured at the folk around them.
"That's a fool's errand, and you know it!" Kaanyr said, shaking his head. "Let's just be about our business. Surely catching Zasian is more important than dealing with these lackeys."
The villagers, their attention drawn away from the fire and toward the looming threat of the great mass of rock, began to panic. A few screamed while others raced around, running everywhere at once. A couple jostled Kaanyr as they fled.
Tauran pursed his lips. "No," he said firmly, "we must help them. I can't force you to assist me, but—"
"I already convinced him that Zasian could be behind this!" Kael interjected, shouting to be heard over the roar of the flames and the screams of the villagers. "He might have created it as a distraction for something else!"
Tauran nodded as if warming to the idea. "Yes, perhaps," he said. "We may need to investigate this fire, question these folk. You are bound, Vhok. Help them!"
Kaanyr narrowed his eyes in fury. "What the Hells do
you want from me?" he yelled at the angel. "I'm no good to you dead!"
"Gather the folk in the meadow outside of town," Tauian said to Kael. "Keep them there until I return. I'm going for more help." With that, he took to the air and hovered there a moment. "Citizens!" he shouted, his voice magically amplified and echoing across the village above the sound of the wind and flames. "Stay calm! My companions and I will aid you, but you must do as we ask. Follow their directions, and I will return soon!" He looked down at Kaanyr and gave the cambion a pointed look. "Do it," he said. Then he whirled, beat his wings furiously, and soared off into the storm-tossed sky.
"Cursed angels!" Kaanyr shouted after the rapidly diminishing figure. "So blasted arrogant!"
"Just get them—" Kael said, but a deafening rumble cut his words off. The ground pitched beneath their feet, knocking them both down.
The two islands collided.
Kaanyr felt the shock waves as tons of rock ground together. The earth buckled and shifted. The force of the collision sent trees flying. Soil shot into the air and then, caught in the wind, began swirling and darkening the sky like some terrible black rain.
"By the Blind One!" Kael bellowed, scrambling to gather himself. "Watch it!" He leaped toward Kaanyr, grabbing the cambion and yanking him to one side.
Where Vhok had been sprawled a moment before, the remains of a chimney attached to the longhouse came crashing down, sending shards of stone and dirt everywhere. The bits of debris stung Kaanyr's face and eyes. The longhouse, already mostly an inferno, collapsed a heartbeat later. The implosion sent a shower of sparks up and outward, pelting those nearby
with embers and spreading thick, black smoke everywhere. The screams of burned folk rose in pitch and intensity.
Kaanyr looked at Kael for a moment, torn between his disdain and a grudging appreciation for the half-drow's effort to rescue him. But the holy warrior was already on his feet, moving off to shout instructions to the people and heal the wounded.
"Kaanyr!" It was Aliisza shouting from across open ground. The cambion looked in her direction and saw her near a collapsed dwelling. She was kneeling as though she had been peering into the interior of the structure. When she caught his eye, the alu motioned frantically for him to come to her.
Vhok scrambled to his feet and moved toward Aliisza even as the ground rumbled and shuddered again beneath him. Already, the cambion could sense a change. It was tilting. Tauran had been right; the collision was slowly upending the whole island.
"What?" he demanded, reaching the half-fiend. He squatted next to her. "What is it?" he asked, staring where she peered.
"I think there's someone trapped in there," Aliisza said, pointing. "I thought I heard a scream just as it began to fall."
"Probably already dead," Kaanyr said, rising. He reached down to take Aliisza by the arm. "Nothing more to do here," he added. "Come."
"Wait!" Aliisza said, resisting his tug. "I can hear crying. I think it's a baby."
Damnation, Kaanyr silently groused. Everywhere she turns, she thinks she sees a child that needs her. That fool angel has addled her brain. "Are you sure?" he asked doubtfully. "I don't hear anything."
"Just help me," Aliisza insisted, grabbing hold of a timber
that jutted from the wreckage of the home. She tried to hoist it up, but it didn't budge.
Sighing, Kaanyr took hold of the timber. Together, they lifted. The pile of ruined dwelling shifted slightly, but they couldn't move anything. "No use," Kaanyr gasped as he eased the piece of lumber back down. "Too heavy."
"Hold on," Aliisza said, reaching into a hidden pocket within her armor. She pulled something out. Before Kaanyr could see it, she brushed it against him and muttered an arcane phrase. He felt a surge of raw power course through him and knew she had enhanced his strength. She quickly did the same to herself. "Try again," she said.
Shrugging, Kaanyr grabbed hold of the timber and heaved. Aliisza joined him. Together, they forced the length of wood upward, shifting the pile of destroyed home with it.
As the hoisted lumber reached its apex, Kaanyr could see a hollow space near the center. A girl of perhaps fourteen summers lay sprawled there, a bloody gash across one cheek. A smaller child, little more than a baby, squirmed beside her. It appeared unharmed.
"Can you hold it?" Aliisza asked. "Keep it off me!"
Before Kaanyr could even answer, she released the timber and darted into the remains of the dwelling.
The cambion grunted at the increased burden and felt his muscles quiver with the strain of it. "Hurry!" he grunted at the alu, who was kneeling down next to the injured girl. "Quickly, Aliisza!"
"I'm trying!" she replied. "She's stuck under something."
Vhok shifted his feet and tried to get a better grip on the timber. He managed to get his shoulder under it and brace it, but he knew he could not remain there long. It was simply too heavy.
Just like her, the cambion fumed. Never one to let the facts get in the way of her bull-headed intentions. At least that hasn't changed.
Kaanyr could sense the land continue to tilt, and with it, the weight of the debris shifted and grew heavier, overwhelming him. His arms, already shaking with exertion, began to burn. "Now, Aliisza! I'm losing it!"
"I can almost..." she said, her voice muffled, but Kaanyr couldn't hear the rest. His legs quivered like jelly, and despite his ferocious will, the timber, and everything above it, began to collapse atop her. "Aliisza!" he grunted. "Get out!"
But the alu did not emerge from beneath the dwelling, and with a snarl of frustration and dismay, Kaanyr lost his grip on the wood.
It slammed to the earth with a deep thud.
Behind the thick underbrush at the top of the three-sided open grotto Myshik knelt and peered through the foliage at the guards below. He counted four of them, hound-headed creatures standing easy but alert. They hung near the back of the secluded area, beneath the overhang that surrounded the open pit. Each of them kept a sword strapped to his or her back.
The draconic hobgoblin tightened his grip on his axe and waited. He felt good, eager for the coming battle. His whole body quivered with anticipation and energy, the residual effect of his healing dip in the magical waters of the Lifespring. Tekthyrios had borne him to a desolate, craggy spot high in the sky of the mystical place and eased him into the spring-fed pool.
The effect had been immediate and profound. All of the half-hobgoblin's wounds and scars faded in a matter of moments. Vitality and strength filled his whole being, but along with that enchanting healing had come a taint, a sick feeling of something that made Myshik's stomach churn. It left an odd taste in his mouth and a faint ache in his bones. He fretted over its effects for a while, but eventually dismissed them as minor irritants compared to the wonderful rejuvenation he'd experienced.
Tekthyrios had bathed in the soothing pool too and seemed to luxuriate in its magnificent effects as well. When they had both had their fill, the dragon took hold of Myshik and rose aloft once more. They set out for a new destination, and along the way, the dragon explained his plan, and the half-hobgoblin's role in it.
Myshik tingled with excitement and anticipation.
The forest around him was unusually quiet. He knew that the storms raging all through the House had not abated, but the great woodland surrounding him kept the worst of the wind at bay. He could still hear it roaring through the crowns of the massive trees, but it was a muted sound—distant, eerie. It had helped mask his approach to the edge of the pit.
The C-shaped pit was almost perfectly curved, a sort of sinkhole that had formed along a ridge of hard stone. Eons of water spilling into the basin had hollowed it out, carving it bit by bit, even cutting into the walls so that they curved inward, leaving an overhang around the perimeter of the place. At several points along the semicircle to Myshik's left, the trickle of waterfalls spilled over the side and splashed into a pool that took up most of the floor. Water escaped from the pool out the open side of the basin, to the half-dragon's right.
Myshik could hear the guards' voices drift toward him,
but their words were too soft to decipher. He watched them as they conversed. The dog-creatures exuded an aura of calmness, yet they never seemed to grow listless or distracted from watching their surroundings. He wondered how long they had been posted there, guarding that cave.
One of the four, a female with white fur and stubby, triangular ears, stood up straighter and sniffed the air. She looked apprehensive, and Myshik grew very still as her eyes scanned the bushes where he had chosen to conceal himself. The other three grew more alert too, and one of them spoke sharply. In response, she pointed in Myshik's direction. Her companions turned their attention his way, and for a moment, the half-hobgoblin thought he might have to launch his attack early.
Now, Tekthyrios's voice echoed in Myshik's mind.
Smiling, Myshik rose up to his full height and stepped forward, plummeting off the edge of the rim and into the pit. He unfurled his wings and glided downward, angling his descent so that he would swoop in toward the nearest guard.
She let out a warning growl and yanked her sword free. She took a defensive stance and waited for Myshik to get within reach. Her companions fanned out to either side, their blades also drawn. He could see the grim determination in their eyes.
"You may not pass," the guard said, speaking in perfect Draconic.
Here we go, the half-dragon thought as he glided into range.
"Turn back or be destr—"
The guard's words vanished in a thunderous boom as Myshik emitted a great blast of lightning and engulfed her. He saw the other three grunt in pain at the searing burst of light. They spun away, covering their faces with their arms.
Though she cringed in blindness from the unexpected assault, the female guard looked otherwise unmarked.
Resistant, Myshik realized. Would have been good to know.
In the moment it took for the guards' eyesight to return, Myshik pulled back his axe, aiming at the closest guard's neck.
A shout of warning from one of the other hound-creatures caused Myshik's target to start. She tried to spin away as Myshik reached her, but the alarm came too late. The half-dragon swung his axe around in a huge, sweeping arc and cut into the guard's shoulder and neck. The magic of the axe thundered.
The guard gave a short, shrill yelp as the blow knocked her sideways. She tumbled head over heels and went sprawling into the shallow water of the pool. It began to turn crimson. She did not move again.
Another of the guards gave a howl of dismay and lunged at Myshik, swinging his sword in a wide arc. Myshik leaped backward to evade the weapon. He landed lightly on his feet, brought his axe into play, and the fight was on.
The three remaining guards circled the draconic hobgoblin, mouths agape as they eyed him with anger. Myshik spun in place, expecting a coordinated attack. He knew he couldn't overextend or fall for feints, so he kept his blade defensive, waiting for that first sudden burst.
He was not disappointed.
The trio moved elegantly, together, leaping in to slash at their foe. As the half-dragon shifted to evade the first strike, two more came at him lightning quick. Though the guards' swords were bulky and slow, they handled them well. He deflected the first two swipes, but the third was too fast. The
edge of the sword raked across his shoulder, cutting through his thick leather armor.
Myshik snarled, but he let the pain wash over him. He focused on it.
It infuriated him.
Another struck at Myshik, followed by another. He roared in defiance and swatted the attacks away with his axe. The weapon felt almost weightless in his hands. It took no more effort to wield than if it were a hollow stick. He bellowed again, challenging the guards, and rushed at one of them.
The hound creature faltered and stumbled back a step. The other two closed in behind Myshik, but he didn't care. All his fury, all his hatred, he poured into the thought of destroying that one foe retreating from him. He closed the distance, one, two, three steps through the shallow water of the pool. All the while, he yanked and hacked with his axe, pummeling the guard's defenses, battering the sword out of the way.
Myshik could see the strength waning from his enemy, could see the grim determination in his eyes turn to worry, then outright fear. Myshik never relented, even when he felt the faint stroke of a sword across his back, striking one of his wings. Another step forward and he had the guard down on his knees, scrambling to keep his sword high enough to block Myshik's relentless axe strikes.
On the third blow, Myshik's axe cleaved the sword in twain and kept going, splitting the hound creature's skull. The explosive thunder that accompanied the strike rendered the guard nearly unrecognizable.
The half-dragon barely sensed a slice across the back of his knee. His leg weakened. Rather than allow it to give
way, Myshik channeled even more anger into himself. He spun, refusing to show any sign of the injury, and chose another target.
The two remaining dog creatures pressed the attack, and Myshik saw that their swords were bloodied. Absently, he decided it must be his blood.
He didn't care.
Pressing the fight at the guard on his left, Myshik assaulted anew. He used quick, powerful stokes with his axe to bludgeon his foe's defenses, shifting his attention only long enough to ward off the worst of the other guard's attacks. As before, his rage and focus overwhelmed his enemy. The guard staggered from his ferocious strikes, and when he went down to one knee in exhaustion, Myshik stepped in for the killing blow.
Before he could finish off his opponent, a brilliant illumination filled the half-dragon's field of vision. A presence had arrived, glowing with power, and Myshik flinched despite himself. The being hovered above the kneeling guard, a creature of silvery white. It gazed sternly down at Myshik with golden eyes, a massive greatsword clasped in its hands.
"You who have defiled this place and slain my guards, your end is nigh," it said, and its voice filled the pit, shook the walls, and sent ripples dancing across the water. It drew its sword back to strike, and Myshik cowered.
A shadow passed over them.
The magnificent and terrible creature faltered and turned its gaze skyward. Myshik smiled to himself as the massive form of the storm dragon, Tekthyrios, slammed into the angel. The white-skinned creature went spinning backward, its sword lost. It struck hard against the wall of the pit and sagged downward.
The two guards, who had stepped back to give the solar room to mete out its justice, stood frozen in place, staring at their fallen savior.
Tekthyrios wheeled and settled into the middle of the pool. The storm dragon nearly filled the open area. The guards quavered before the beast. Terror filled their expressions.
Myshik hefted his axe and struck. He heard the familiar concussive thump as he connected, and the head of one of the guards tumbled away. Its body flopped down into the shallow water.
The dragon roared at the angel and slashed out with his claws. The keen appendages were as long and thick as Myshik's legs and as sharp as the finest swordmaster's blades. Blood spattered the entire grotto. The dragon struck again and again, and the solar screamed in pain.
Myshik ignored the battle. Though his rage and strength were waning, he had one last guard to deal with. The hound creature, his eyes filled with dread, backed away, then turned to run.
He managed three steps before Tekthyrios's tail slammed against him. The force of the blow sent the archon sailing across the open pit to crash against the far wall. As he slid down and settled onto the damp earth at the water's edge, his eyes rolled back in his head and his tongue lolled from his mouth.
"Well done, my friend," Tekthyrios boomed. "Well done, indeed."
Myshik bowed in acknowledgment, and the act nearly made him faint. Woozy from injuries, he felt each gash and broken bone keenly as his rage faded. He sank down to his knees, panting.
"I fear I have spent myself," he said. "My strength is gone."
The great dragon stepped close to him and reached a clawed foot out. Placing that appendage gently against Myshik's back, Tekthyrios muttered a prayer, not in Draconic but in a language the half-hobgoblin did not recognize.
Myshik felt energy flow into him, restoring his vigor and easing his injuries. When the dragon completed the spell, Myshik stood straight and tall again, refreshed.
"Now," Tekthyrios said, "let's see if we can retrieve my prize."

Aliisza struggled to shift the stone block that trapped the young girl's foot, but she couldn't do it. Despite her magically enhanced strength, the alu could get very little leverage. The weight of other debris atop the stone compounded the difficulty.
"Hurry!" Kaanyr growled. "Quickly, Aliisza!"
"I'm trying," she answered, reaching for a thick length of wood to use to pry the stone upward. "She's stuck under something."
The girl stared fearfully at Aliisza as the alu wedged her makeshift lever under the rock. Beside her, a small child, a little boy of only a couple of summers, cried, his tears making glistening tracks in the dust on his face. Aliisza shoved on the lever and saw the stone budge the slightest bit, but she was at the wrong angle to bring her full weight to bear.
"Now, Aliisza! I'm losing it!" Kaanyr shouted, and she could see the crushing weight overhead beginning to sag.
She shifted position to try again. "I can almost get her," she said, but the shadow of the debris hanging over her head grew darker.
It was collapsing.
"Aliisza!" Kaanyr shouted, his voice muted. "Get out!" No time, the alu realized.
Reacting on instinct, Aliisza uttered an arcane phrase. A red, shimmering doorway appeared horizontally beneath the half-fiend and her two charges. As one, they fell through the portal just as the pile of ruined dwelling slammed down.
The other end of the magical doorway dumped the trio onto the grass a few paces behind Kaanyr. As she fell through, Aliisza flung herself to one side so as not to land atop the children. She hit the ground hard, knocking the wind from her lungs. She lay next to the girl and sobbing child for several moments, trying to suck in air.
At last, Aliisza caught her breath enough to sit up. Kael had joined Kaanyr and the two were attempting to hoist the pile of wreckage aloft once more, but the tilting ground was making the task more difficult. The slope caused more and more, of the weight of the pile to lean forward, directly opposing their efforts.
The alu was mildly surprised to see the two of them working together, almost frantic to rescue her. It was strangely comforting.
"Kaanyr! Kael!" the alu called, rising to her feet. The duo stopped their efforts and turned toward her. Aliisza saw relief in both their faces.
Concern? she wondered, unused to such on her behalf. Where did that come from?
Beside her, the girl stood up and scooped up the younger boy. She appeared ready to bolt, but Aliisza took her hand. The squeezing grip that met hers was tight. She remembered another time and place, and a pair of children playing in a walled garden. She had helped, then.
"Where's your family?" the alu asked, looking down at the girl. "Where can we find them?"
The girl didn't say anything, but she pointed in the direction of the open field beyond the village.
Kaanyr and Kael joined them, both panting heavily. "You're quick," Vhok said between gasps, a hint of admiration in his words. "I thought we'd lost you."
"It takes more than a falling building to stop me," Aliisza answered.
Kael said nothing, but he eyed the two children that Aliisza had in tow and gave her an appraising stare. He nodded.
The ground rumbled beneath the group's feet and began to pitch and buck again. Aliisza fought the urge to assume her natural form and rise upon her wings to escape the unsteady ground. Instead, she grabbed hold of the girl's arm to help hold her steady.
"We have to get out of here," she said, looking at both Kaanyr and Kael. "Where's Tauran?"
Kael opened his mouth to answer her, but his eyes grew wide as he spotted something over Aliisza's shoulder. "There!" he shouted, showing a hint of a smile.
All of them turned to look where Kael pointed. A handful of angelic creatures hovered over the open field. Tauran was among them, along with several of the larger, more silvery creatures who had sat in judgment at Aliisza's trial. It felt very long ago to the alu, but a feeling of dread still washed over her at the memory.
The angels had opened some kind of glowing, pearlescent portal and were motioning and guiding the villagers through. The folk crowded around the magical doorway, pushing to get through to safety as their island home shook and rocked, tilting farther and farther to one side.
The angle had grown sharp enough that Aliisza found herself digging her heels into the soil to keep from sliding. They didn't have much time left.
Tauran spotted them and flew over. "Is this the last of them?" he asked, motioning toward the young girl and her smaller companion. "Is anyone else still here?"
Aliisza shrugged, but beside her, Kael shook his head. "We're the last," he said. "Everyone else is already over there." He indicated the portal with a jerk of his head.
"Then let's go," the angel said, grabbing the girl and boy in his arms and hugging them close. "This whole place is falling apart."
Even as he spoke, a series of horrific, ear-shattering pops and booms reverberated around them, and great crevices formed in the rock. Massive shards of stone sliced upward as other chunks crumbled and fell, leaving gaping fissures. The ground became a morass of fragmented, churning stone, some parts caving in as others surged skyward. The remaining buildings of the village shivered and crumpled.
The young girl screamed, and Tauran shoved himself into the air and fanned his wings wide. He carried his two charges aloft, with Kaanyr, Kael, and Aliisza all close behind.
"To the portal!" the angel shouted to be heard over the roaring wind and shattering stone.
The four fliers winged their way toward the opening watched over by a pair of majestic solars. The gateway no longer rested upon solid ground, but instead hovered in the open air. Tauran shot through the portal first, and the rest followed him. As Aliisza reached the mouth of the doorway, she paused and turned back to gaze at what was left of the great floating island.
It had fallen far beneath them by that point, nothing
more than a cascade of tumbling rock, soil, and vegetation. It disappeared into a thick layer of cloud that spread out below them.
She wondered if anything sat below the falling detritus. For a brief moment, she thought of actually soaring after it, just to make sure. Then she realized what she was contemplating and shook some sense back into herself.
Someone else's problem, she told herself. You've done enough rescuing for one day.
Turning back to the doorway, she darted through, and the two solars followed close behind.

Chapter Four
Myshik found the descent through the earth unsettling. It wasn't the magic itself; his draconic heritage had made him used to that. No, he did not mind most preternatural exercises. But sliding through solid rock was something new.
The half-dragon felt neither substantial nor ethereal. He couldn't find a word that quite described it. Regardless, the spell that Tekthyrios had employed was strange.
It's as though the rock slides through me, he decided. Once the celestial guards had been dispatched, the storm dragon had instructed Myshik to enter the cave and seek an inscribed circle upon the ground. The symbol was easy to spot, and once Myshik stood within it, Tekthyrios engaged the magic.
The half-dragon began to sink into the ground immediately, as though it had turned to quicksand. But it did not suffocate him, and once over the initial fear, Myshik found the journey fascinating.
He descended for several moments then suddenly found himself falling through a white void. He engaged his wings
on instinct, struck the bottom of the vacancy without much force, and settled easily into a crouch. Myshik tried to peer around, but a bright, pearlescent glow surrounded him, and he was forced to squint as his eyes adjusted. At last, the draconic hobgoblin's vision returned, and he could examine his surroundings.
Another figure drew his attention. It lay huddled near his feet, unmoving. It faced away from him, so he could not discern the nature of the creature, other than to note that it was a humanoid dressed in a simple brown robe and had long, rather unhealthy hair.
Myshik felt over his shoulder for the handle of his axe to reassure himself, then he began to examine the place.
He discovered that he stood at the bottom of a perfect sphere, and the glow of light seemed to radiate from the walls, indeed the entire inner surface of the room. The chamber was not very large, perhaps only ten paces in diameter. Utterly devoid of any furnishings-or features, it would have proven to be a rather mind-numbing prison, should he have found himself trapped there.
A cursed existence, the half-hobgoblin thought, glancing again at the figure.
Is she there? the storm dragon's voice inquired, bouncing around in Myshik's head as his father's and uncle's once had.
Yes, he answered. She?
Indeed, came the reply. Wake her, but do it gently. She has been there a long time and may not know what to make of a visitor, especially one of your... um, countenance.
As you wish. Myshik stepped closer to the figure.
Fighting the urge to grip his axe, the half-dragon knelt down beside the figure. He reached one clawed hand out and tapped the woman once, softly, on the shoulder.
She did not budge.
Myshik tapped again, then he took hold of her shoulders and shook her.
With a shriek, the woman rose up lightning fast, turning with fingers outstretched. She lunged at Myshik, who fell back involuntarily from her unexpected onslaught.
Her wrinkled and pale face framed eyes as black as midnight that burned with hatred, or perhaps insanity. Her gray hair hung in long, limp clumps around her face and nearly down to her waist. Her breath smelled foul, and Myshik could see only a few cracked, yellowed teeth as she sucked in air for another scream.
She came at him where he had sprawled, hands outstretched to throttle him or claw his eyes out. He let her momentum carry her forward, over his own body, then used his feet to propel her past himself. She soared beyond him and struck the sloping side of the sphere with a gasp and a thud.
She's enraged! the half-dragon said as he clambered to his feet. Wants to rend me! How do I stop her without maiming her?
There was a soft laugh in his head not of his own mind's making. She is harder to maim than you might imagine, came the answer. Speak to her. Call her name. Kashada.
Myshik turned to face the crazed woman and saw her gathering herself for another charge. Her face contorted in rage or fear, and her eyes glazed with it. The half-dragon doubted she would make sense of his words.
"Kashada!" he called out. "I am not here to hurt you!"
The woman shrieked and rushed at him, her fingers bent into the shape of claws. She reached for his face, his eyes, but the draconic hobgoblin leaped high and used his wings to gain even more elevation. Her pell-mell charge overbalanced
her, and she stumbled into a heap against the opposite slope of the sphere.
Myshik dropped deftly to the surface once more. "Kashada!" he said, more forcefully. "Hear me! I have come to take you from this prison! Let me help you!"
Kashada whirled, staggered like a drunken thing, and glared at her would-be rescuer. "Shadows!" she screamed at him. "There are no shadows!" She swayed where she stood and began to sob, clenching her eyes shut in misery.
Her mind is lost, Myshik thought, projecting to Tekthyrios. She has no reason left. She screams of there being no shadows.
Of course! Tekthyrios said. How clever. Myshik, you must create a shadow for her. You can restore her mind if you can show her a shadow. Do it!
The half-dragon scowled, looking around the sphere. He had not noticed it before, but with light glowing from the entire inner surface, no shadows were cast anywhere. He could see no way to shield any area from the light.
Kashada howled, a forlorn wailing that reminded Myshik of the jackals in the great desert of Anauroch, singing to the moon at night. She kept her eyes closed, uninterested in attacking him further.
A thought struck Myshik. Working quickly, he removed his cloak and draped it upon the lowest point of the sphere, essentially the floor. He reached into an inner pocket and pulled out an oblong bundle. Unwrapping it, the half-dragon produced a glowing, prism-shaped white crystal twice as thick as his thumb and as long as his hand. He knelt down upon his cloak and held the crystal over it. He placed his other hand between the glow of the crystal and the dark cloth of the cloak. A faint shadow formed there.
"Kashada," Myshik called. "Look, a shadow."
The crone's eyes flew open, and she ceased her wailing. She stared at Myshik for a moment, cocking her head from side to side like some predatory bird. Then she spied the light in his hands, and the patch of darkness he had created. She shrieked in delight and rushed forward. Myshik flinched, expecting her to strike at him again, but instead she knelt down, cooing softly.
"Darker," she demanded, still staring at the shadow. "It must be darker. Make it darker!" she finished with a scream.
Myshik frowned, uncertain. Then inspiration struck. He rose to his feet again and loomed over the crystal, blocking as much of the sphere's light as he could with his body.
The shadow of his hand upon the cloak deepened.
"Yes!" Kashada shouted in triumph. Her voice had changed. It was stronger, less shrill. "You've done it!" Then the woman lunged forward and dived at the hand-shaped area of darkness.
Before Myshik's eyes, she melted into the shadow and vanished.
???
Tauran rested upon his favorite protrusion of stone, high above the Lifespring. He sat a pace away from the edge, leaning back against a towering pinnacle of rock pointed skyward like a poniard. A tumbling waterfall roared next to him, emerging from a cleft in the cliff face and plunging over the side of the protrusion, out of sight.
"We should be inside!" Micus said, shouting to be heard. The other angel sat next to Tauran, huddled against the spire of rock, trying to avoid of the worst of the wind. "Why in the Hells are we out here in this?"
Tauran ignored his friend and crawled toward the end of the protrusion. The howling, lashing storms whipped the spray from the churning torrent, peppering him with a fine, cool mist. The dampness made the stone beneath his hands and feet slick. The wind tore at his tunic as if it wanted to rip him from the precipice and carry him away. Ignoring the gale, Tauran reached the edge and peered over.
It was a long drop.
The spire behind him rose as the tallest, most impossibly thin peak in a high, sharp ridge of jagged, jutting stone. The ridge formed a deep basin surrounding the Lifespring on three sides. Most days, the waters shimmered in golden sunlight, a tranquil pool of divine healing magic. That day, they churned and frothed in a blue-gray maelstrom covered in whitecaps.
Tauran could barely see the distant shore, where the water spilled over a lower lip of the ridge to other basins even farther below. Remnants of clouds, shredded and reformed by the whipping wind, slashed across his view, giving the whole plane an eerie, translucent look.
Tauran crawled back to his friend. "Do you remember the first time you asked me about diving off here?" he asked Micus. "Right before I began teaching you how to do it?"
The other angel frowned but nodded. "Yes," he replied. "Right before we tried to save that marilith's child. What of it?"
"Do you remember what you asked me that day?"
Micus shook his head. "Something about why you did it. But it was a long time ago."
Tauran nodded. "That's right. I told you that I did it to remind me that the easiest path is not always the right one, and that I must remain vigilant against complacency. Right?"
"I suppose so," Micus answered, his face filled with doubt. Then his eyes widened. "You're not actually planning to—you must be mad!"
Tauran held his hand up, gesturing for his old friend to relax. "No," he said. "I'm not mad. No diving for either of us today."
Micus sagged back in relief. "Good," he said. "Because if you tried, then I'd know you had lost your way."
"That's just it, though," Tauran said. "I feel like what I face right now, with Aliisza and Vhok, is just like diving off this precipice. The easy thing would be to remit them to the High Council, let them lock the fiends away, and move on to other things."
"Sounds like a fine plan to me," Micus said dryly. "And the one I'm advising you to go with."
"But don't you see? That's the easy path. It's the safe path. I don't think it's the right path." Please understand me, old friend, he thought. You of all my companions might recognize what I'm trying to say.
Micus was silent for a moment, then said, "Sometimes, we need others, wiser than ourselves, to tell us which path to follow. Sometimes, like young children, we try to climb over boulders in the road, rather than go around them. Why does every path have to be hard?"
"They don't," Tauran admitted. Tyr knows I wish this one weren't so hard. "But diving off these rocks was supposed to remind me to stay vigilant against growing complacent. That means recognizing when the harder route is the right one."
Micus sat without speaking for another moment. "It sounds as though you've already made up your mind, Tauran," he said at last. "You've already decided what you're going to do, and nothing I say will change your decision."
"Perhaps," Tauran said. Yes, he admitted to himself. I have.
"Then what do you want from me?" Micus asked. "What purpose can I possibly serve by sitting out here in this wretched storm?"
I need you to believe in me, Tauran thought. I need you to tell me that I'm not trying to dive off this cliff right now. Because that's what this feels like. "I just wanted you to understand that I'm clear headed, steady in my faith," he said aloud. "I just wanted you to know that I believe in my heart that something is profoundly wrong with the universe right now, and I can see it, even where others cannot."
"Tauran," Micus said. His voice was odd, almost warning his friend. "I can’t support what I don't believe in. We have existed with Tyr's laws for millennia, and they have served all who dwell within this realm quite well. Right now, at this moment, when so much else is in turmoil, is the very time to uphold them. That is how they endure, how we survive."
"I know," Tauran said, suddenly feeling very tired.
"You want to bend one rule, and then another, and another. You claim that it's because you see some catastrophe on the horizon, and you intend to stop it, but what if the very catastrophe you envision is the result of your own misguided transgressions? What if some calamity does befall the House, and it all could have been avoided if you had just adhered to the rules?"
Tauran held his hands up in despair. "It is always possible," he admitted. "I cannot foresee the outcomes any better than you." That's why I feel like I'm standing on the edge of this maelstrom, ready to throw myself over. "But every way I look at this, I see the same thing. Every part of my body just feels that I am right."
It was Micus's turn to throw his hands up. "We are not creatures of gut instincts and intuitive guesswork, Tauran. Watching you place so much emphasis on 'feelings' troubles me more than anything. As far as I'm concerned, the path is clear. There is no deliberation necessary. The law is the law, and we are bound to abide by it."
Tauran nodded, staring at the wet rock before him. "I understand," he said. He felt a great sadness wash over him. "You would handle this differently. I had hoped you would see my viewpoint, had hoped that all these years of diving together from this point had allowed us to share some common insight. I guess it is not to be."
Micus reached out and placed his hand upon Tauran's arm. "I'm sorry, my friend. I do see the value in what you taught me, but vigilance can only carry one so far. Powers much greater than ourselves have both the wisdom and insight to guide the rest of us, and we have the wisdom—and the responsibility—to be guided. If you doubt, turn to Tyr. He is mysterious, but he will not lead you astray."
Tauran smiled. How can you be so sure? he thought. "I hope you are right," he said.
Micus rose up onto his knees. "Do not stay out here much longer, my friend," he said. "This storm seems to grow worse by the moment."
"I won't," Tauran promised. "See you in a while."
Micus stood and launched himself into the tempest. Fighting the winds, he flew off, leaving his friend alone to contemplate.
Tauran frowned as he watched the other angel grow small before vanishing within a cloud bank. The storm is going to get worse, he thought. Much, much worse.
Micus had not been gone long when another angel arrived
at Tauran's ledge. She swooped up from below and hovered for a heartbeat or two, then she settled in the spot where Micus had stood only a moment before. She reached out to steady herself against the buffeting winds.
Tauran started at her arrival, then he smiled and stood. "Eirwyn!" he said. "I hate it when you do that."
"Oh, you do not!" she replied. "You're very glad to see me, and you know it."
She looked older than Tauran, her bronze skin crisscrossed with wrinkles. Her merry eyes twinkled with genuine friendship as she smiled. Her long, flowing hair hung down in a single braid over one shoulder. It gleamed silver in the cloudy day.
She went straight to Tauran. "You look very tired," she said, embracing him.
I am tired, he thought. Bone weary, as the mortals say. "I'm better now that you're here," he said. "What's brought you?"
The elder deva adapted a look of mock indignation. "Why, Tauran! You wound me! Think you so little of my divination skills that you would doubt my ability to know when and where I am needed?"
Tauran laughed, gladness filling him for a moment. "You divined that I would be here?" he asked.
"No, I did not expect to find you here," she answered. "I merely augured that I would be needed here, at this time. As usual, I was right." She hugged him again, then pulled back to stare the angel squarely in the face. "What troubles you?" she asked.
Tauran looked away and felt the full weight of his worries. "I don't know," he said, watching the storm-tossed clouds roil around the two of them. "I fear that I am losing my way, Eirwyn," he said, returning to gaze earnestly at her. "No one
seems to see what I see, the menace that seems to be gathering in the House. Not even Micus shows any grasp of the threats I fear."
Eirwyn sighed. "This feud between Tyr and Helm has upset the balance. The sooner they settle it, the better off we'll all be."
For a moment, they sat together unspeaking, with only the roar of wind and waterfall filling their ears. The moment stretched out, became a bit uncomfortable. Tauran wanted to share more, but he fretted that he was about to cross a threshold from which he could not return.
"You can tell me, Tauran," Eirwyn said at last. "It won't hurt my feelings. We've been friends too long to let this feud come between us."
If only it were that benign, Tauran thought. He smiled slightly. "It's actually the opposite," he said. He drew a deep breath before proceeding. "I believe Tyr has lost his reason."
Eirwyn drew her head back a bit when she heard the angel's words. She scrutinized him for several heartbeats, until he began to fear that he had misjudged her. I thought she would understand better than most. But maybe—
"That's a dangerous thing you say, Tauran," the elder deva said. "Most within the House—or at least the Court—would not take kindly to hearing those words."
"Believe me," Tauran said, "I know. I dare not blaspheme that way in front of"—he cast a quick glance in Eyrwin's direction—"anyone less sympathetic to the notion." He saw her smile slightly then. "But I believe it," he continued, "and furthermore, I think I can prove that Cyric has his hand in it."
Eirwyn gave a small gasp. "You don't really have a good grasp for building support for your ideas, do you?"
Tauran's chuckle felt mirthless. "It would seem not," he said. "And yet, I'm about to go before the High Council and argue that very thing."
"Tauran!" she said, admonishing him. "I don't think that's wise."
Tauran sighed. "Perhaps," he said. "But if I'm correct and do nothing, then I fear I have committed the greater crime. The risk I take in revealing my suspicions pales in comparison to the repercussions if I am right."
"What leads you to believe this?" she asked.
Tauran explained what he knew of Aliisza, Vhok, and Zasian.
When he was done, Eirwyn sat very still. Finally, she rose to her feet. "What you claim is very serious, Tauran. But my divinations did not lead me here to talk you out of your plan. Of that I am confident."
Tauran stared up at her, waiting to see what she would say next. What he thought he had lost in Micus, he hoped against hope he had gained in Eirwyn.
"I am going to meditate on this," she said. "And when I have more information, I will seek you out again. Perhaps I have a part to play in this."
"Thank you," Tauran said, rising to face her. "You've given me renewed strength to see this through."
Eirwyn held up her hands to forestall his gratitude. "I cannot promise that I will be able to offer you much," she said, "but I will do what I can."
"That is all that I can ask," Tauran replied. He hugged her then, thankful for her friendship.
When he stepped back, her gaze bore into him. "Be very careful, Tauran," she said. "You will make many enemies revealing these theories. The High Council of Tyr is a dangerous entity to rile."
Tauran nodded. "I know," he said. Then he drew a deep breath. "But I am due to appeal before them any moment, so I must go. Thank you again."
Eirwyn smiled and vanished. A moment later, Tauran departed too.
Neither of them had noticed the lantern archon flitting nearby, hiding beneath the protrusion upon which they sat. Having heard the entire conversion, it vanished, too, hurrying with a heavy heart to report to Micus of Tautan's treachery against Tyr.
Aliisza sat on the bed and wished Kaanyr would stop pacing. The cambion had been at it since the two of them had been brought to her chambers—at least, she assumed they were hers. It felt as if only a day or so had passed since she had last been there, and she had to keep reminding herself it had been eleven years. She wondered if anyone else had spent time here. That thought mildly annoyed her.
What's the matter with me? she thought, growing more agitated. I'm acting like I want to stay here.
On the contrary, the moment two of the dog-headed creatures had escorted the pair to her chambers while Tauran and Kael departed to attend to other matters, Aliisza had grown restless. Certainly, the foreboding sensation of being trapped again unsettled her. But the alu knew it was more than that.
Tauran and Kael's departure had stirred feelings of... regret.
I didn't want them to leave, Aliisza realized. Am I so loath to face Kaanyr alone? Or is there more to it?
"I've been going about this all wrong," Kaanyr said, disrupting her thoughts. "I've been fighting this the whole time. I should know better."
"Fighting what?" she asked, thankful that he had deigned to come out of his brooding to speak to her.
"The angel's hold over me. His plans. All of it."
"Yes," she said.
Kaanyr stopped pacing and turned to look at her. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, scowling. "You never just agree with me lately."
"Only because you've been making no sense lately," she countered. "You have been acting the fool, revealing your every emotion, reacting instead of scheming. You have not been the Kaanyr Vhok I thought I knew." Does that Kaanyr Vhok even exist? she wondered.
The cambion stood and stared at her for a long time. His eyes bored into hers, roamed up and down her body, lingering appreciatively in certain places. She had assumed her true form when they had returned to her chambers, but he hadn't noticed before right then. For the first time in a very long time, Kaanyr seemed...
Hungry, Aliisza decided. She actually began to blush beneath that gaze.
Kaanyr seemed to shake himself out of his carnal stupor. "I'm not the only one behaving oddly," he said. He turned and sat upon a cushioned chair on the far side of the room. "You are not yourself, either."
Aliisza caught herself feeling a bit jealous that Kaanyr had managed to stroll away so easily. She didn't want the moment to end quite like that.
"Who's to blame for that?" she asked, feeling the tiniest bit petulant. "Who arranged for me to become trapped here,
under the tutelage of an angel? What did you expect would happen?"
"Zasian assured me that his protective spells would ward you from any true change." Vhok's voice was quiet. "Did he lie about that, too?"
Aliisza thought for a long moment before answering. "No," she said at last. "But he didn't tell you the truth, either. What he did—the spells that he wove over me to shield me from Tauran's influence—wasn't so much a protective mask as it was a... reversion."
Kaanyr cocked his head to one side. "Explain," he demanded.
"He didn't cast a spell that would shield me from something Tauran forced on me. He cast a spell that would change me back at the end."
"So the angel's damnable tricks took hold?" Kaanyr narrowed his eyes and scowled.
"That's just it," Aliisza said, feeling uneasy. She wasn't sure if she wanted to admit her next words to herself, much less to Kaanyr. "There were no tricks, my love. He only showed me a perspective."
"Perspective about what?"
"About the nature of goodness. It's not so easy to explain. I'm not sure I understand it myself."
"I'm not sure I want to," Kaanyr countered, waving her away.
"Oh, but you will hear what I say!" Aliisza shouted, angry at his flippant dismissal. "You are the one who subjected me to it, so you are damn well going to hear me out!"
Kaanyr glowered at the alu, but he finally nodded once, almost imperceptibly. "Because it's you," he said.
A flood of old emotions rushed through Aliisza, but she
pushed them away and continued. "I came to understand that I could give myself up, make myself vulnerable, and allow myself to care about others before myself," she said. "I learned to surrender to caring, because it can come back tenfold, if you let it. I know it doesn't make any sense to you, because you did not go through what I did, but trust me, there can be times when the benefit you reap is worth the price you pay."
She could tell by the look on Kaanyr's face that he either didn't understand what she was talking about or didn't care to. She pushed on without letting him interrupt.
"I think Zasian understood what would happen to me and simply lied to you. He might have told you that Tauran's efforts would involve coercion or divine trickery, but that's not how it happened. I came to those conclusions on my own. All Zasian did was plant a trigger that would remind me of who I was before—snap me out of it, if you will."
Kaanyr pursed his lips in thought. "So, where do things stand for you now?" he asked. "Whose side are you on?"
"Thaw just it," Aliisza said, rising from the bed to begin pacing. She had to choose her next words very carefully. "I'm not on anyone's side."
"So you believe this nonsense that the angel spouts?" The cambion's voice dripped with disgust. "Or else you claim to in order to torment me."
"No!" Aliisza said, turning to face him. She clenched her hands, feeling helpless to explain. "Not like that," she said, but her voice was faint. She knew Kaanyr wouldn't believe her. She didn't believe the words herself.
The reward you reap is worth the price you pay.
"I love four men," she said at last, blurting it out before she could think about it.
Kaanyr raised one eyebrow. He looked almost bemused. "That's just not a word I hear from your lips, lover," he said, then, when he realized his own irony, added, "at least not used in that way."
Aliisza almost chuckled. He thought her notion of being in love was stranger than the fact that she shared it among four men. "I love each of you in a very different way," she said, "and I will not demean any of it by trying to explain them all to you."
"How noble of you," he countered. That sardonic tone was back.
"But know that you are one of them," she said, staring him straight in the eye. "Despite everything that has happened, despite all that you have done to me, I am still yours, lover." She almost felt herself slip into that provocative, purring tone of voice. She resisted it.
Kaanyr smirked. "You have a strange way of showing it," he said. "Most of my lovers don't trick me into entering subservient arrangements with angels."
Aliisza smiled sheepishly in spite of her pounding heart. "I know," she said. "I was angry with you. I wanted to punish you."
Kaanyr raised that single eyebrow again. "Punish me?" he asked. "I don't take too kindly to punishment," he said. "From anyone," he added. His voice carried a dangerous edge to it.
Aliisza did allow herself to slip into that familiar role of temptress then. She sauntered over to Kaanyr. "Perhaps," she said, and she was almost surprised at how smoky her voice had become, "but I do." She closed the distance until she was standing directly in front of him. She cocked her hips to one side and rested her hands on them. "Aliisza's been a good girl," she said softly. "Make her bad again."
She held her breath, wondering if it would work.
Kaanyr sat very still, though the alu could see the muscles of his neck working as he swallowed several times. She knew she was getting to him.
"Why are you still here?" he asked, his own voice soft. "You can flee whenever you want. So why remain, be that angel's lackey?"
Aliisza cast a glance toward the open balcony, saw the roiling storms beyond the opening, and returned her gaze to the cambion's face. Don't think I haven't thought about it, she thought. Almost every second since we got tossed back in here. "Because I want to stay with you," she answered, and- it was the truth.
Kaanyr nodded. "And who are the other three?" he asked.
Aliisza fought not to show her fear. What will you do when I tell you? she wondered. She took a deep breath. "One, I love like a mother. One, like a daughter. And one no longer even lives," she said. "But the only one that matters right now, I love in the most mischievous way possible."
Kaanyr smiled then and reached for Aliisza at last.

Chapter Five
But this is a matter of honor!" Tauran argued, his voice rising. It echoed throughout the hemispherical chamber, reverberating back against Kael as he and the deva stood before the Council. Its members sat arrayed in a semicircle, nine solars in all. Each one rested upon a thronelike chair arranged on a raised, curved dais around half the chamber. Kael never liked having to peer upward to face the members. Their silvery faces and golden eyes were inscrutable, and it always left him with the feeling of being on trial.
Perhaps we are on trial, he thought. The whole House has lost its senses. They've never questioned Tauran like this before.
Somewhere beyond the chamber, muted rumbles reverberated from the growing chaos sweeping the plane. Kael could feel the power of the storms in the stones beneath his feet. The entire Court of Tyr shook with the energy of the gods' argument.
So much anger, Kael thought, dismayed. So much energy wasted. Surely they should be— No. Do not think that way.
Do not try to fathom the depths of the gods, he told himself. Serve them well.
Tauran continued. "I made a bargain with the two of them, and I gave them my word."
"That may be," said the High Councilor, sitting in the very middle of the assemblage. "But in this instance, it might not have been yours to give. There is much occurring here that we do not yet understand, and you risk not only your own reputation within the Court, but the well-being of many that dwell within the House."
"They agreed to be bound by obligation," he said, as if that answered all the Councilors' doubts. Kael suspected it did not, and he wondered why. What has Tauran ever done to make you doubt? he wondered, frustrated.
"One of them agreed, Tauran, not both," the High Councilor said. "The cambion is an easy read. He is as manipulative and cunning as he is corrupt, and he will cause you trouble. She, on the other hand, is an unknown factor in all of this, and she has already violated numerous laws as our guest."
Tauran nodded and spread his hands in supplication. "I cannot defend all of Aliisza's actions to this point, Councilors, but I can also see how our influences have begun to affect her. She has behaved with more compassion than even I would have imagined. She risked injury to herself in order to save a pair of young petitioners in that village today. I believe she has started down a path to redemption."
Kael frowned while listening to Tauran describe Aliisza's selfless act. Redemption? That did not fit the image of her in his mind. Would she have saved them without the protection of your bargain? he wondered.
"This is the third time you have come before us concerning
this being, Tauran," another of the Councilors said, her feathered wings fluttering behind her to show her impatience. "Each time before, you have asked us to accept your wisdom, to trust you in these matters, despite our better judgment. In both cases, events did not play out as you expected."
Kael saw Tauran shift from foot to foot, saw the deva's own wings flutter in agitation. He had never seen the angelic creature seem so... ruffled before. They're not buying it either, he realized. Maybe trying to sell everyone on her good points isn't the best way. Torm knows it's hard for me to see her good side. But you know her better than anyone here, he thought. Convince them so we can go.
"Now you stand before us again, pleading for more leeway," she continued. "It is not a pattern that lends itself much to confidence and optimism on our part."
Tauran spread his hands again. "As I have said before this court in the past, I believe our best hope of gaining her trust and ultimately turning her to a path of goodness is to give her some room, some freedom. We must allow her to feel her way through this on her own."
"Such a course is risky."
"My plan involves more risk, to be sure, but I believe the greater rewards are worth it. The less we interfere, the more likely it is that she will embrace this new outlook. The more we restrict her, attempt to confine her actions to that narrow path, the more she will resist and turn against us."
The High Council was quiet for a long moment. Kael wondered if they were silently conversing or merely thinking. The half-drow caught himself wanting to pace and had to force himself to remain still.
He could see both points of the debate. On the one hand, Aliisza was willful and impudent. She was not bound to serve
anyone and could wreak havoc on Tauran's schemes at any inopportune moment. And Kael detested the idea of relying on immoral fiends, full-blooded or not, in order to hunt down Zasian. The holy power of Tyr and Torm should be enough!
On the other, Tauran's arguments about the extraordinary nature of the circumstances made for compelling testimony. Members of the Triad were arguing, fighting even, and the entire Court seemed paralyzed, unable to come to any consensus on what to do. All the gatherings, all the proceedings—where little more than debate ever occurred— were growing tiring and irksome. The loyal champion of Torm wanted action.
Even if it means being near her? he asked. As if to answer, Kael felt a strange, uncomfortable sense of curiosity invade his thoughts. He did want to be near her. Why? he wondered, struggling to understand such strange emotions. You have Tauran already. What else do you need? Kael thought again of Aliisza risking herself to save those two children. Would she have done that for me? a tiny part of him wondered. No, he decided, trying to push that thought away. You only want her near to prove to yourself once and for all that she was the uncaring fiend you've always imagined, he scolded himself. And you cannot let that jeopardize Tauran's plans. You have duties.
Still, the image of his mother lingered.
"Here is my fear in all this," the High Councilor said at last. "That you—and we—are being manipulated by these fiends in ways that we do not yet understand, and we will be filled with regret when we do, when it's too late. You yourself have admitted to such once already, the second time you stood before us, after the alu escaped your custody."
Several murmurs of agreement arose from the other
Councilors gathered there. Kael scanned them all, studied their faces, and saw nothing but grim countenances and disapproval. They reflected Kael's own suspicions. Vhok, Aliisza, and Zasian had pulled off a most extraordinary trick in order to breach the House's defenses.
"I have little doubt that you believe you are fit to repulse such subterfuge," the High Councilor continued, "but these beings—these invaders—are clever. Even now, they may be continuing a plot they hatched long ago, designed to take advantage of your willingness to give them leeway. It is in our nature to offer forgiveness, redemption. Such generosity, though natural and good, can be taken advantage of."
"I am well aware of the risks, Councilor," Tauran answered, staring down at the polished stones of the floor. "But I am also well aware of Vhok's and Aliisza's motivations. I, perhaps better than you, know what they want, what they seek. Not what they claim to want, but what they truly desire. I, unlike you, am in the field, confronting such beings. I deal with them, know their cunning firsthand. I have already used such knowledge to gain their cooperation. It will aid me in keeping my wits going forward, I assure you."
The Councilors stirred, shifting or murmuring among themselves, but none of them confronted Tauran on that point.
Kael nodded slightly to himself. Yes, he thought. We can use them to our advantage, instead of the other way around.
"Perhaps you'd care to explain how you knew right where to find the half-fiends?" came a voice from behind the pair of them.
Kael recognized the voice before he even turned around. He closed his eyes and stifled a groan. No! he fretted. Tauran almost had them won over. Why now?
"Micus," Tauran said, turning to face the newcomer. "What are you doing here?"
"Making certain the Council knows all the facts about your theories, Tauran. They need to understand just how erratically you've been behaving of late. I'm here to make sure they do."
"Micus, I already told you, we—"
"Tell them," the other deva interrupted, pointing at the members of the Council. "They are the ones you need to convince. I have already made up my mind."
Tauran stared at his friend for a long moment. It seemed to Kael that he debated something, but whatever was on the angel's mind, he did not share it. Instead, he turned back to face the members of the Council. They all remained silent, waiting expectantly.
"As you are well aware," the deva began, "it's been more than a decade since we—since I—lost track of Aliisza the alu. Her escape was remarkable, leaving her son, Kael, trapped in her body for the duration. He managed to adapt, learning to use her body's innate magic in order to alter his physical form to his own, more familiar guise. Despite his heritage, you all know him now as a devout and loyal servant of Torm, a champion in combat, and a noble companion."
The angel paused and looked over at Kael, who only nodded once in appreciation. Privately, though, the half-drow beamed. It had been a profound struggle to learn to exist in another's body, a half-fiend's body, and he was pleased with himself, just a little, not only that he had succeeded, but that others had noticed.
Tauran continued. "For reasons that neither of us can explain as of yet, Kael experienced an odd sensation earlier this day, a sudden and strange connection with his mother.
Whether that link was due to their blood relationship to one another or some astral bond between Aliisza and her body—or perhaps both—it was strong enough and focused enough that Kael was convinced he knew where she was. The pair of us set out at once to locate her."
At that point, the Councilors began murmuring among themselves again. Tauran waited patiently while they absorbed what he had described, but Kael glanced over at Micus, who frowned.
"Is this as Tautan has described?" the High Councilor asked, and it took Kael another moment before he realized the solar was speaking to him.
He blinked, trying to find his voice. The solars had never called on him before.
"Yes, High Councilor," the half-drow replied. "I have no explanation for it, but it was unmistakable, and the sensation led me unerringly to her." He looked at Micus and asked, "Is that so hard to accept?"
The scowling deva shook his head. "Only in that it seems less plausible than the prospect that you two have known where Aliisza was all along and merely went to join her at an appointed time and place."
Kael gaped at Micus while the chamber erupted in a dizzying cacophony of incredulous debate. To the half-drow, it seemed as though half the Councilors argued for an immediate investigation into Tauran's activities while the other half decried his unfair persecution. Tauran said nothing, but he, too, turned to look at his old friend with a sorrowful expression.
When the High Councilor had at last restored quiet, he turned back to Micus. "Please provide some evidence for your accusations, Micus."
Micus bowed his head, as if the words he was about to impart pained him greatly. "Before I proceed, let me be blunt. It brings me no pleasure to disclose these points. Tauran is my friend, and I have observed him on countless occasions carrying out his duties with both supreme devotion and suitable aplomb. His energy seemed tireless, his dedication unquestionable."
Then why are you turning on him, you backstabbing bastard? Kael wondered.
"But that merely makes his recent erratic behavior all the more noticeable," Micus continued. "I have observed, to my great chagrin, that Tauran has begun to question many of his values, as well as those of the House. He has chosen courses of action that fly in the face of our established procedures and policies. He has enabled the criminal activity of intruders into our realm through both dubious deed and cowardly inaction. In short, I fear that his morality has been compromised, and he has thrown in with these half-fiends he purports to supervise. For what purpose, I do not know, but I fear my friend has turned."
More murmuring arose, but the High Councilor silenced them quickly. "Please proceed with your evidence, Micus," the solar instructed.
Micus nodded. "Of course. In addition to this questionable explanation of how Tauran and Kael came to find the alu and this new intruder—this cambion—I submit Tauran's insistence of late on debating the merits of Tyr's righteousness in the conflict with Helm."
A few murmurs of disapproval issued from the Council. Kael wasn't certain whether they were directed at Micus or at what Micus had said.
"Tauran has called into question Tyr's wisdom. I have listened to him say it."
Kael couldn't stand how Micus was skewing Tauran's words. He stepped forward. "He only insists that Helm must have very good reasons for his side of the debate, and that we should reserve our judgment until the two gods have settled their feud. Esteemed Councilors, examining every side of an argument with an open mind is a far cry from conspiracy against the House."
For once, no sound at all issued from within the chamber. All sets of golden eyes had turned to stare coldly at the half-drow, their displeasure plain. But Kael refused to back down. He stared back, waiting for someone, anyone, to challenge the point. In the background, muted thunder rumbled again, and the floor vibrated with it.
"I'm sorry, Councilors, forgive his impudence," Micus said. "Kael is as loyal and devout a student as any deva could ask for, but his allegiance calls his neutrality into question. His perspective on this issue wavers from the truth considerably."
Kael seethed and opened his mouth to argue further, but Tauran placed a restraining hand on the half-drow's arm. When Kael caught his mentor's glance, the angel shook his head almost imperceptibly. You're not helping, was the message. Kael sighed and nodded, and Tauran released his
The High Councilor spoke. "Your accusations are grave, Micus, and despite his impudence, Kael is correct. Engaging in such debate is not a crime against Tyr's law. I hope you have something more substantial to tell us to back up your claims."
Micus frowned, and Kael had to clench his jaw to keep from grinning at the angel.
"Of course, High Councilor. What I intend to submit next brings me no joy to share. In fact, it shames me to admit. But I
truly want only to ensure that Tauran cannot deceive you—if that is in fact his intention—and to avert his own ruination." The other angel turned to look directly at his counterpart. His next words were clearly intended for his fellow deva. "Despite what he must think, I seek only to save him from himself and bring him back into Tyr's embrace. If I am proven incorrect, and Tauran has engaged in no real wrongdoing, then I will beg his—and this Council's—forgiveness."
A long moment of silence stretched out as the two angels studied one another. Finally, Kael saw Tauran nod, just once, the tiniest bit. An acknowledgment of his continued friendship, the half-drow supposed.
He has more charity than I, Kael thought. I couldn't be quite so generous after such a besmirching.
Micus nodded. "I overheard a conversation today," he said, "between Tauran and a servant of Helm."
Tauran gasped, and Kael jerked his eyes in the angel's direction. Tauran stared at Micus with a look of both dismay and betrayal. "You spied on me?"
Micus ignored him. "As you can see, he does not deny it. Yes, I enlisted the assistance of a lantern archon today, and I heard, with my own ears, Tauran suggest that Tyr's judgment in certain matters pertaining to the membership of the Triad is questionable, and that perhaps he is unfit to dispense a ruling on the matter. Tauran has actually claimed that Helm might be correct in challenging the Maimed One."
More murmuring issued from the Council, but the High Councilor silenced it with a loud query. "What say you to these charges, Tauran?"
The angel stepped forward, peering up in the direction of the solar. "I don't deny it," he said without a hint of shame or regret. "I do believe that Tyr's wisdom has failed him."
The murmuring returned and rose in volume to outright dismay.
"And this," Tauran continued, "is why I believe we desperately need the half-fiends' help." The noise level increased. Tauran raised his hands, asking for patience. "This destructive argument that roils throughout our home, this bitter feud between beloved Tyr and noble Helm"—more than one solar frowned at that appellation—"is not the conduct suited to two benevolent and wise deities."
The murmuring grew louder, and one Councilor rose to her feet, incensed at the deva's words. "You overstep your bounds, Tauran!" she shouted. "It is not your place to presume to know the wisdom of Tyr!"
"Perhaps," Tauran countered, raising his own voice to be heard, "but no one else seems willing to question these events. I believe this crass debate has been contrived, engineered by those who would see the House brought low."
Even more dissent filled the chamber as the members of the Council all began talking at once. Kael sensed the anger in their demeanors, and it shocked him to see the stoic solars, always inscrutable, exhibiting such passion.
They are frightened, he realized. What could scare a solar? he wondered, growing more uneasy with each passing moment.
A particularly deep and rumbling disturbance shook the chamber. The champion of Torm had to take a step to steady himself as the floor pitched. He saw the much more graceful angels spread their wings to compensate for the undulating foundations. The rumble subsided, and with it, the solars' berating of Tauran.
See? Kael wanted to shout. That's what scares you. You know he speaks the truth.
"I sense some malevolent manipulation behind this"—Tauran paused, waving one hand vaguely around himself—"this furious dispute between them. Whatever their disagreement—and I do not profess to understand the ways of the gods—but whatever their disagreement, it strikes me as unduly vehement and bitter. This is not the behavior of the immortals I have served. Furthermore, our disparaging treatment of Helm's loyal servants is not in keeping with what I know in my heart to be just and fair. The same holds true, I suspect, for you. It is not who we are, Councilors." The deva scanned the room once, locking gazes with each member of the Council, before he proceeded. "I witnessed events today that have convinced me that Cyric has a hand in Tyr and Helm's disagreement. I think Vhok and Aliisza were unwittingly caught up in the Liar's machinations, and they can help me find out if I'm right."
"No!" shouted one of the solars.
"The impertinence!" yelled another.
Kael could not remember a time when he had witnessed the powerful creatures in such emotional disarray. They clearly found the entire prospect of their own god stumbling in his judgment too much to bear. For the first time, he feared what they might do to Tauran to counteract their own uncertainty.
"Blasphemy!" Micus shouted. "He is unfit for his station! He has fallen in league with fiends and aims to assist them in a foul plot!"
Kael took a single step toward Micus, his face a snarl of hatred. He's been your friend forever! the half-drow thought. How dare you smear his name, you bastard! You don't deserve his friendship.
Micus saw the movement and gestured. "As you can see,"
he said, raising his voice to be heard, "even his pupil has been tainted. It pains me to see, but what should we expect from the offspring of such dubious stock? Tauran has failed in that effort, too."
There was more outrage among the Council, but Kael could barely hear it. He was too busy fighting to get past Tauran to reach Micus. He didn't remember drawing his weapon, but somehow the sword was in his hands.
Tauran held Kael by one arm, straining to keep the half-drow from striking the other angel. "Control yourself!" he shouted. "You do us no favors by unleashing your wrath!"
Micus stood a few paces back, on the balls of his feet, as though prepared to combat the champion of Torm should he manage to break free from Tauran's grasp. His expression was one of grim regret.
The chamber continued its uproar.
Kael finally relinquished and stared at the floor, shamed. Tauran was right; his own actions were just as much of a betrayal as anything Micus had concocted. "Forgive me, Tauran," he murmured.
The deva made a faint gesture of dismissal. We'll speak of it later, was the message.
The High Councilor called for quiet once more, but it took him shouting, "Silence!" in a thunderous, commanding tone before all became calm again.
"In light of the evidence," the High Councilor said in a tone that suggested he would brook no further outbursts, "coupled with my own grave concerns about the intentions of these fiends in our midst, you are hereby ordered to your quarters until further notice, while an inquiry is launched into your behavior. That applies to both of you," he added, pointing to Kael.
The half-drow bowed his head, remorse filling him, both at his own improper actions in the face of the Council and at their knee-jerk reactions.
"And what of Aliisza and Vhok?" Tauran asked, his tone neutral. "What is to become of them?"
Kael could hardly imagine the effort it took his mentor to remain so calm in the face of such betrayal.
"They are intruders, High Councilor," Micus argued. "Both of them. Aliisza violated the terms of her stay with us when she fled in her son's body, and her efforts to assist Vhok's intrusion condemns her equally."
"Indeed," the solar said. "For now they will be required to remain under guard, until this inquiry can sort everything out. I put you in charge of their care, Micus. Make certain that they do not—"
Kael was knocked from his feet as the hemispherical chamber lurched violently to one side. He stumbled to his knees and slid across the rapidly tilting floor. He heard the concerned shouts of the angels, deva and solar alike, all around him. The half-drow righted himself and took to the air, using the magic of his winged boots.
The chamber shook again, and a great, deafening peal of cracking stone pulsed through it. Kael clamped his hands over his ears and peered around, seeking the source of the noise. The majority of the white, glowing dome had shattered overhead. A multitude of jagged shards of the strange, glassy material rained down upon the occupants. Lashing wind howled through the opening and whipped the myriad fragments around in a deadly storm.
Kael flinched away and hid his face. He prayed to Torm that his armor would shield him from the worst of the flying debris. The half-drow felt the shards pelt him, crashing against
the metal outfit. The sound was horrendous, a cacophony of tinkling and breaking, like poorly made chimes. The swirling material stung every bit of exposed flesh.
Suddenly, the storm was over. The wind still howled, but the maelstrom of broken, jagged debris had vanished. Kael risked a look around and saw everyone else in the chamber doing the same. Tauran and Micus were both bloodied in many places, their white garments stained red. They eyed each other and the members of the Council. The solars had been left unscathed, and the High Councilor held his hand aloft in a finished gesture.
He put a stop to it, Kael decided. Banished the shards with his divine power.
The roar of another deep-throated rumble coursed through the chamber from beyond its mined walls, and the world shook again. Kael stared upward through the gaping hole in the ceiling and gasped.
The view was surreal, something from a nightmare.
The very sky had fractured. Some of it was night, studded with stars, while in other places the red glow of sunset or the wispy white of clouds shone through. Every bit of it drifted and tumbled, like individual windows peering into other worlds or pieces of a broken and scattering image, a stained glass window burst from its frame.
Another rumble shook the world, and the hemisphere ripped in half.
The solars vanished, winked out like fireflies on a summer night. Micus disappeared too, leaving only Tauran and Kael hovering in the middle of the destruction.
As the chamber separated and began to fall away to either side of him, Kael felt the storm's full force. It lashed against him from every direction, sending him spinning. His boots
were useless. He flailed, terrified that he would be dashed against some remnant of the world, crushed between massive blocks of whirling, spinning stone and earth. It was the end of all things, he was certain.
Tauran grabbed hold of Kael. The half-drow flinched, then was thankful for the anchor point. The angel drew him close and wrapped his wings around the armored warrior in a protective embrace. "Hold still!" he shouted over the incessant roar of the wind, and Kael did so, trying to become small within the feathered barrier. He felt his ears pop as something around him shifted, and he squeezed his eyes shut.
There was blessed quiet.
The half-drow felt the two of them settle onto something hard, and Tauran stepped away, leaving Kael standing on his own. He opened his eyes and peered around.
The two of them stood within the columned temple of the storm dragon, where he and Tauran had discovered Aliisza, Vhok, and Zasian.
Kael realized he was holding his breath, and he let it out with a gushing sigh. The sound of water dripping blended with the faint roar of the storms raging beyond the walls of the temple.
"What happened?" he asked, turning to stare out at the cloud tops. They roiled as always, crackling with flashes of lightning.
"It's Helm," Tauran said, and the tone of his voice scared Kael like nothing else before.
He spun to confront his mentor.
The angel's face wore such a look of despair and sorrow that it nearly made Kael drop to the floor and weep. "What?" he whispered, terrified of the answer. "What happened to him?"
Tauran drew a deep, shuddering breath before answering. "He's fallen in battle. Tyr has slain him."
Myshik feared being left within that sphere. He would suppose later that it was only a brief time, but while he was within, it lasted an eternity. Kashada had vanished, leaving him in solitude, and all he could think of was being trapped, with nothing but light on every side. He remembered the woman's craze-filled eyes and shuddered.
Tekthyrios! he called. She has fled! Return me to the surface!
The storm dragon did not answer, and Myshik fought his rising panic. The idea that he had been duped by the great wyrm was unbearable. Tekthyrios!
Easy, small one, the dragon finally answered. She is here, with me, but still uncertain of herself Let me calm her, and then I will bring you back up. A little patience!
Myshik did not respond. He stared around the extent of the sphere. Without shadows, the half-dragon found it hard to maintain a sense of the size of the place, but in his barely contained panic, he was certain it was growing smaller. He was on the verge of screaming at the storm dragon again when he began to rise through the air, up into the highest point of the sphere and beyond. That same sensation of the stone and earth sliding through him was much more welcome the second time.
At last he stood on the surface, within the small grotto. Tekthyrios sat there next to a beautiful, mysterious creature. Myshik supposed it was Kashada, though she was nothing like he had seen of her within the sphere.
A tall, lithe woman stared at him from behind a hood and veil made of equal parts black cloth and shadows. Her eyes, once so feverish with dementia, studied him with keen interest. As black as midnight, they bored into his very core. For a long moment, Myshik noticed nothing else, but finally he managed to tear his gaze away from hers and see the rest of her.
She was swathed in tight-fitting black clothes, reminiscent of an assassin's garb. They, like the hood and veil, danced with shadows. The ensemble made Myshik's eyes hurt, and when he glanced away, she seemed to vanish several times. Forcing himself to keep her firmly in view, the hobgoblin studied the rest of her newfound gear. A belt kept several sheathed daggers handy at her waist, and he noted two more protruding from the tops of her soft black boots. She stood on the balls of her feet, light and delicate, ready to spring in any direction.
"Myshik," Tekthyrios said from beside the mysterious woman. "This is Kashada."
Without waiting for the half-dragon to say anything, Kashada bowed with a deep flourish. "My thanks for your part in my rescue," she said. Her voice was soft, throaty, little more than a sultry whisper. "That... place"—and she seemed to shudder, though Myshik wasn't certain he saw it clearly—"was unbearable."
"I only spent a moment there, and I can imagine," the hobgoblin replied. Then he turned to Tekthyrios. "Now that we have rescued your prize, what are your intentions?"
Tekthyrios laughed, a deep rumble that reverberated through the grotto. "She is but the first of many, my eager little half-dragon," he said, fanning his wings. "There are much bigger prizes awaiting us. But we must bide our time for a bit, wait for the sign to come."
Myshik cocked his head to one side. "What sign?" he asked.
A sudden roar filled the sky above, and all three flinched from it. The draconic hobgoblin risked a glance upward and saw what he imagined the end of the world might look like. The clouds had turned to ash and flame in some places, and to pulsing, throbbing, sickly green in others. In between, like great fractures in the foundation stone of a massive keep, jagged stretches of midnight sky gleamed through.
A howling wind rushed through the trees overhead, stripping the leaves from their branches and uprooting many of them. The winds swirled and sent a spray of water from the nearby falls. The force of the wind knocked the three companions flat. They even shoved Tekthyrios downward from the crush of the violent blast. Myshik cowered and imagined being scoured from the small floating island. Only the protective walls of the grotto' had saved him. The thought of spinning out into the maelstrom made him blanch.
"There we go," Tekthyrios said. "The sign has come. Helm is dead at last." He rose up onto his feet again. "Gather close, you two. We have a journey to make."
Myshik shifted his gaze between the dragon and Kashada, stunned at the news. Helm, dead? Can this be?
From behind her veil, Kashada's eyes glowed. Without any fear at all, she approached the huge storm dragon and allowed him to grasp her in his foreclaw. As Tekthyrios lifted her into the air, she gave one small, throaty laugh. "All praise to the Dark Goddess. It has begun."
Myshik began to dread that he had gotten himself into the middle of such a tangled mess. Whatever Vhok had been chasing, the barbaric hobgoblin could not imagine that it involved the plots of gods. But his father's instructions had
been clear. He would see the task through, no matter what. Bring honor to the clan, he reminded himself.
Shrugging in acceptance of his fate, Myshik allowed Tekthyrios to take hold of him as well.
The storm dragon rose up to his full height. "Come, my little thieves. We have a prize to steal, and a god to steal it from!"
With that, he launched himself skyward.

Chapter Six
Aliisza started awake. A feeling of worry washed over her, though about what, she couldn't figure. Something wasn't right.
She glanced at Kaanyr, still sleeping beside her. He appeared at ease, peaceful, unaware of any danger.
The alu slipped from the covers and dressed, listening for any sounds that might indicate a threat. She fingered Pharaun's ring and scanned the room with its magical energy, seeking anything out of the ordinary. She detected scattered and powerful images, part of the existence and amenities of the room, but nothing threatened her.
The feeling wouldn't go away.
She crossed the floor to the door leading out and pressed her ear against it. There was only silence beyond. She sighed, wondering if her nerves were just a trick of her imagination.
Too long wary of bad dreams, she decided.
Trying to relax, Aliisza turned and headed to the balcony. The storm still raged beyond it, though why it didn't penetrate the interior of the room, she could not say. Nothing actively blocked it, but nonetheless it was as if she watched it
through a heavy window or scrying glass. The light was odd, disconcerting. She stepped closer, taking in more of the sky.
Clouds tumbled around, both above and below. They seemed to boil, and lightning raced through them, crackling with purple and green. The storm obscured everything, though Aliisza knew from past experience there was little else out there to view. No land spread out below the great white-stoned city known as Tyr's Court. No top or bottom defined the endless space that stretched beyond where she stood.
Just about to turn back to her bed and her lover, Aliisza felt it. A soft rumble and a quivering vibrated in the stone beneath her feet. It was faint, almost imperceptible, but she had no doubt it was real. The energy to make the mountain rumble would have to be great indeed, and with that realization, Aliisza knew something dire was happening.
"Kaanyr, wake up," she called, still staring out at the furious sky. When he did not answer, Aliisza turned and strode across the chamber with a purpose born of fear. "Kaanyr!" she said again, shaking his shoulder.
"Hmm? What?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. "What's wrong with you?" he snarled, rolling over and trying to yank the covers tighter around himself. "You wear a fellow out, then won't let him sleep."
"Something's wrong. The whole place is shaking. Can you feel it?"
Kaanyr sat up, looking at her. "I've known you long enough not to question that tone," he said. His voice was gentler, almost concerned.
As she returned to the balcony, he rolled out of bed and slipped into his clothes, then he came to join her. "What is it?" he asked, holding her shoulders and pressing in close from behind. "What do you feel?"
"The Court," she said. "It's shaking, vibrating. Can't you feel it through the floor?"
Kaanyr stood still and quiet for a moment.
Aliisza felt it again, a soft rumble, as though far below her a part of the lock was cracking or crumbling away. "There, did you feel that?"
"No, lover, I didn’t—"
Both of them pitched off their feet and went sprawling across the room as a vicious quake rocked the place.
Aliisza landed on her shoulder. She rolled to ease the impact and wound up crumpled against the base of the large tiled basin where she had once bathed in perfectly heated water and scented oils. She rapped her head against the stone and winced.
"Gods and devils, I felt weird,” Kaanyr grunted from somewhere on the far side of the room. "What the blazes is going on?"
Aliisza found herself earnestly wishing Tauran were there. "Let's find out," she said, trying to rise. Another forceful heave threw her off balance, and she hit the floor once more. When she recovered her balance, she realized the room was no longer level. In fact, it was slowly tilting.
"We must flee!" she cried, scrambling to Kaanyr. "We cannot stay here!"
"I cannot go," the cambion said, his voice low. "The angel's magic binds me here."
"No," Aliisza said softly, dismayed. She remember all too well a time when she wanted more than anything to launch herself from the balustrade of that balcony, to soar free in the open sky outside, beyond the Court. The magical coercion she had agreed to then had held her there, had prevented her from acting on her thoughts. It had nearly driven her to madness.
"There has to be a way to get around it," she said, thinking aloud. "Self-preservation has to count for something."
"Don't you think I've been trying to make that work?" the cambion said, almost snarling. Whatever fleeting moments of gentle affection he had shown during their carnal pleasures vanished in his frustration at his predicament. She sensed that he still blamed her, at least in part, for her role in his ensnarement. "Just go," he said. "Go find out what's tearing the place apart. Find the angel, if you can."
Aliisza looked at Kaanyr for a moment, trying to get a read on his intentions. His face was clouded with anger and fear, but he seemed earnest. She felt a new sense of respect for him pass through her. Respect, and something familiar and tender. "Very well," she said, spinning back toward the door. "I'll return as soon as—"
A knock came at the portal, cutting her off. She reached for the handle and yanked it open, ready to chastise Tauran for his part in leaving Kaanyr trapped within the chamber, but the words died in her throat.
Micus stood there, accompanied by two of the hound-headed creatures—or archons, as Aliisza had learned. "You two must come with me at once," he ordered. "The High Council has questions."
Aliisza shook her head and backed away.
"No," she said. "Where is Tauran? He should be the one to come for us."
Micus took her retreat as an invitation to enter the room. He stepped through the doorway and the archons followed. "Tauran has been relieved of his responsibility for you," the angel said. He made a gesture to the creatures behind him, and the pair vanished, reappearing just inside the balcony, blocking that egress. "The High Council has put me in
charge of your well-being, and I have questions. Now come with me."
Behind her, Kaanyr snarled. She turned in time to see him draw his enchanted scepter from the loop on his belt and drop into a crouch. He took a couple of steps toward Micus.
"You're sealing your own fate, demon," Micus said, pulling his own mace free. "I'll send you to oblivion and be pleased to be rid of you. Tauran's coddling of the likes of you sickens me."
Aliisza tried to step between Kaanyr and the deva. "Stop it!" she shouted. She directed the outburst mostly at her lover, but it was intended for both of them. "That's not going to help!"
"The Hells with helping," Kaanyr growled. "I struck my bargain with one angel and one angel only."
Out of the corner of her eye, Aliisza saw one of the archons step closer, loosening his sword. She groaned, unsure how to get all of them to stand down.
"Vhok!" a voice bellowed. "Back away! Do not confront Micus!"
Aliisza's heart leaped in joy at the sound. She turned in the direction of the voice and saw Tauran, with Kael at his side, standing in the hallway. Tauran stepped in as Micus glanced back over his shoulder. Kaanyr snarled in frustration as he retreated, backing up and replacing his weapon in its belt loop. Aliisza could see in his expression that the cambion fought with all his will to resist the command, but it was futile.
"I knew you would come here," Micus said to Tauran, turning and stepping back so that no one could maneuver behind him. He also made a subtle motion to the approaching archon, who nodded and stepped back to rejoin his companion by the balcony. "In fact, I almost expected you to be here already, trying to help them escape."
"Micus," Tauran said, his tone plaintive. "You can't really intend to carry out the High Council's instructions, can you? We have to find out what has caused this tragedy!"
"That's precisely what I intend to do. The High Council will sort this out. It is not for us to question. But I knew you would go against them and try to stop me, because you have lost all sense of propriety, Tauran. You can’t even see how off balance you have become." Micus's own words sounded sorrowful to Aliisza. "You must surrender to me. I can't let you run off with them, not now. The Council has spoken."
Tauran shook his head. "But Cyric is out there, somewhere, making all this happen! If we don't stop him, if we don't catch Zasian and end his scheme, this whole terrible catastrophe is just going to get worse!"
"That all may be," Micus said, coming to stand close to Tauran and placing both his hands on his counterpart's shoulders. "But that is not for us to deal with; The High Council heard the charges and your explanation, and they found it wanting. You're breaking your oaths by disregarding their commands, my friend. I can't let you ruin yourself over this."
Aliisza snorted in disgust. "I don't know what the Hells you are talking about with this High Council, Micus, but you ought to listen to him. Zasian is out there, and he's up to something. We can help you find out what."
The angel turned to glare at her over his shoulder. "You'd like nothing better than that, wouldn't you, fiend? We should just let you and your rutting partner here run free across the House, bringing all your clever schemes to fruition, is that it? Well, I've got news for you. The days of you two despoiling out sacred home are at an end." He turned back to Tauran. "Now, if you have any desire at all to stay in the
Council's good graces, instruct this foul trespasser to come along without any trouble."
Tauran shook his head again. "No, Micus. I can't just stand aside and let you take them to their doom. I gave my word."
"Your word is not fit to give! You've violated everything you stand for, Tauran. Now see reason."
Tauran gazed at Micus a moment longer, then sighed, looking resigned, and hung his head. "Vhok..." he said.
To the Hells with this, Aliisza thought, feeling old self-preserving emotions rise up within her. Time to go my own way.
But the alu hesitated. She felt rooted to the spot, unwilling to leave Kaanyr behind. Or Tauran, or Kael, she realized. The price you pay for love, she thought in dismay, remembering Tauran's teachings. She tried to shake off those new, vulnerable feelings. Blast them all! she silently admonished. I'm not under any oath! And Micus is a mule-headed fool!
Aliisza still hadn't made up her mind when Tauran completed his command. "Micus and his two companions are not to be killed, but they are preventing you from aiding me."
Aliisza's stare flew to Tauran in disbelief. Behind him, Kael grinned and stepped deeper into the room.
Micus gasped. "Are you mad?" he demanded. "You'll be—"
The angel's next words were cut off by a warning shout from one of the archons. "Beware!" he said, fumbling for his sword.
But Kaanyr, already straining to get at Micus, reacted swiftly once freed. He had his scepter back in his hands in the blink of an eye. The cambion took two rapid strides forward and walloped Micus across the back of the head. A concussive
thump accompanied the strike, and Micus grunted in shock and pain and sank down to one knee.
"Vhok!" Tauran shouted, dismay clear on his face at watching his former friend struck so viciously.
"He'll live," the cambion replied, turning toward the balcony. "Let's get out of here before he realizes it." He took a step toward the two archons blocking his way, swishing his mace back and forth with a malevolent grin on his face.
Aliisza smiled and pulled her own sword free. "Nice to have the old you back," she said, stepping beside him to face the hound-headed creatures. Kael moved to join them as well.
"No!" Tauran said from behind them. "We go out this way!" As the angel finished his statement, a shimmering blur of a wall sprang up between the combatants, blocking the archons off from the rest of the chamber. Aliisza saw that the humming barrier consisted of dozens of razor-sharp blades, small knives and daggers, spinning and whirling. "We're leaving. Now!" Tauran commanded.
Kaanyr snarled in frustration, eager to get at the archons, but with a huff he stepped back and turned to follow the deva. Kael nodded once at the two creatures before he, too, spun on one foot and dashed to the door leading out.
Aliisza risked a quick glance down at Micus, who was clutching his head with both hands. In the time it took the alu to look away from the archons, they disappeared from beyond the wall and reappeared on the near side. They rushed at her, blades raised. She cursed her foolishness and scampered backward, muttering the words of a spell. She made a quick sign in the air with one hand and backed through the doorway. A dense fog filled the chamber, obscuring her foes, and her from them.
Then she turned and sprinted after her companions.
The storm dragon hovered above a small clearing within the mist-filled woods for a moment then dropped through the opening in the canopy. He settled to the forest floor and released his two companions. Kashada slipped free of his grasp and found herself standing on soft, spongy ground. She stepped away and turned to look back at her companions. Myshik bulled his way free of the dragon's foreclaw, all rippling muscle and stocky resolution.
Around the trio, the strange forest remained still. The howling storms and bizarre, color-streaked sky of before were gone. In their place, a pall had settled over the plane, a gray, misty world that whispered of dreary winters along a jagged coast. The damp weather permeated the odd trees and muffled distant sounds.
The trees, exotic in shape in their own right, became even more peculiar when viewed through the veil of mist. They took on twisted, warped forms half hidden behind curtains of gauzy light. They challenged the senses, thrusting from the ground at odd angles. The ground, too, varied from that of most forest floors. It surface, uneven and coarse, undulated into the distance like some ancient giant thing's cracked and weathered skin.
A bird cawed not too far away, but the fog stifled its cry. Somewhere deeper in the distance, Kashada detected a muted conversation. The words were much too soft to make out.
"Remember," Zasian said quietly in the deep, rich tones of the storm dragon's voice, "this is not a fight we need to win, nor do we even want to try. The object is to distract them long enough for you to slip past and enter the caves. Are we clear?"
Kashada nodded. Myshik scowled in displeasure, as if the concepts of deception and subterfuge were the most unnatural things in the world. His attitude made plain his constant desire to fight, to prove his mettle and prowess.
Kashada chuckled inwardly. He will learn in time, the shadow-mystic thought.
"Where do these caverns lead?" Myshik demanded, almost sounding petulant. "Why are we going there? Will they lead us to Vhok?"
Kashada again questioned Zasian's decision to keep the half-dragon around. Myshik was barbaric, filled with battle-lust and always craving treasure. She had said as much at her rescue, suggesting that she and the Cyricist simply leave the creature within her prison sphere. But Zasian had refused, claiming to hate wasting resources. He argued that he could imagine a host of different situations where having the winged hobgoblin around would be useful.
Kashada wondered if the priest would come to regret his decision in time.
"They lead to another place," Zasian answered, "where there is much wealth for you to claim in the name of your clan."
Myshik's eyes brightened considerably at the mention of potential riches. "If that is so, then I care little for where we go."
"I thought so," Zasian said.
The priest looked to Kashada.
She nodded, letting him know that she was ready.
"You both know what to do," he said. "Begin."
The pair turned and left him then, moving deeper into the misty woods.
Kashada led the way, listening for the sounds of the faint conversation she had detected a moment before. She cast a
simple spell as she walked, one that permitted her to tread upon the shadows as if they were solid surfaces. The magic quelled the noise of her passing and she glided along, reveling in her freedom.
I spent too long in that damnable sphere, she thought, shuddering. The Dark Goddess herself would hardly have fared better in such a stretch of time.
Beside the woman, Myshik strode with solid, purposeful steps, yet his footfalls remained soft.
So, Kashada mused, he does know the value of subtlety. Perhaps he will be of some use after all.
At one point, the woman caught a sound and held her hand up to signal Myshik to halt. She stood very still, listening. The voices she had detected before were stronger, though still too distant to make out words. They were moving in the tight direction.
Kashada knelt down next to the half-hobgoblin to discuss their plan. "Remember," the mystic said as they rose and prepared to separate, "our signal must be strong so that Tekthyrios will hear it. But do not get too caught up in the fight. The idea is to fool them and send them running about in confusion, not go toe to toe with them. Understand?"
Myshik's red eyes squinted at her and he smirked. "I am not a fool," he said sourly. "The cunning as well as the strength of a dragon flows through my veins. I know my purpose."
Kashada smiled, though she knew the barbarian could not see it behind her veil. "Very well," she said. "See you on the other side." She turned to go then, stepping lightly through the undergrowth and leaving the half-dragon to carry out his own part of the scheme.
Kashada kept the voices to her right as she circled around to the left. She wished that Zasian had been willing to wait
until nightfall to conduct their plan. So many more shadows to work with. He's waited twelve years for this, she thought. What's the hurry now?
A few more steps carried Kashada to a low ridge. Beyond it, on the far side of a trail winding through the woods, a trio of figures rested upon a fallen log. She noted their slender, coppery features and woodland clothing and nodded in satisfaction. Elves.
A patrol, she decided, and far from home.
They sat huddled in discussion, but she noted that they kept a vigilant eye on each direction of the trail. Though they sat, they held their postures erect, wary. They were watching their surroundings carefully.
A bit spooked, are we? Kashada thought. This will be fun.
The shadow-mystic studied the environs near the three elves and selected an area of gloom directly beneath them, where the shadow of the log against the ground was deepest. She focused her mind and let her fingers dance a delicate pattern in the air. She felt the energy of her magic connect with the shadow and watched as it began to move.
The shadow wriggled and expanded. It grew darker and spread.
One of the elves noticed the effect and gave a startled shout. The three of them leaped from their seats and backed away.
The shadow rose from the ground, deepening until it had become black as midnight. It changed shape and divided until four blobs of darkness separated themselves from one another. The blobs lengthened and crouched as the three elf scouts pulled their swords free and went into defensive stances. One of them put a horn to his lips and blew a long, plaintive note.
Calling for reinforcements, Kashada realized. Good. Myshik is bound to hear that. Can Zasian?
The blobs became feline in shape, lithe hunting cats on the prowl. One of the unearthly beasts let out a yowl, a haunting cry that made the three elves shiver.
One of the scouts lunged at the shadow-cat closest to it, but the magical beast shifted to the side, dodging the blow. The cat leaped at its attacker as if it were pouncing on a rabbit.
The elf screamed and fell back as the shadow engulfed him. The other cats rushed at his companions. The group became a swarming, chaotic fracas. Snarling cats tumbled, bit, and raked at the elves while the scouts frantically sliced back at them.
Kashada waited and watched, listening to the raucous sounds of battle.
A shout from her left caught the mystic's attention. She glanced in that direction and spied four more elf scouts rushing through the forest, following the trail. They reached their beset brethren and joined the fight.
Excellent, Kashada thought, and she crept away, moving to swing wide of the elves' position and get around them, heading toward the cave where she and Myshik were to meet Zasian.
She reached a point where she was certain she was out of sight of the roiling fight behind her and started walking faster. She had taken perhaps half a dozen steps when a figure popped into view directly ahead of her.
Like the others, the figure had pointed ears, angular features, and a slender build, but unlike them, she wore a delicate set of plate mail and stood with a noble bearing. A radiant aura surrounded her. Kashada squinted at the bright light and faltered to a stop.
"What trouble are you causing in my woods, witch?" the woman asked, brandishing an incandescent sword.
Zasian waited for the sign that his two minions had begun their attack. Tekthyrios stirred, struggling against his cerebral bondage again. The effort to keep the dragon's consciousness contained had become almost an afterthought to Zasian. He had mastered the art of it quickly, and despite a few instances of sudden, sneaky efforts to catch him off guard, the storm dragon had ceased trying.
But as he waited, Zasian idly toyed with Tekthyrios, taunting the storm dragon with the knowledge of what was about to happen. When the creature at last understood the priest's plan and his own fate, he began anew the effort to break free of his captivity.
No, Zasian whispered to the dragon. / need your skin a little while longer.
Tekthyrios did not answer, but he continued to hammer at the barrier blocking him from control of his body.
There's nothing you can do about it, Zasian conveyed.
Perhaps, the storm dragon replied, surprising the priest. But you will not escape quite so easily as you think.
Are you certain? Zasian asked. Who will tell them what has become of us? You? What will they do even if they figure it out? Come after us? By the time anyone finds you here, we will be long gone.
Nonetheless, the dragon projected, yours will come due. I think not, Zasian replied. The Black Sun's plot is unfolding nicely.
And I am safely a part of it, Zasian thought privately.
How many can make that claim? Others may believe they serve the Prince of Lies, but few truly understand the depth and breadth of his schemes. Sooner or later, Cyric's going to succeed at something magnificently terrible. Where better to be standing when the world comes crashing down than at his right hand?
A shout of alarm in the distance brought Zasian out of his ponderings. The attack had begun. Time to get to work.