As Aliisza became conscious, she realized she was floating in a gray void. This is different, she thought.
Before, for several days, perhaps, she had lingered in the moonlit garden with the magical fountain. Before, she hadn't been certain whether she had slept or not. It had been hard for the alu to tell the difference between slumber and a mere absence of consciousness. All she could be certain of was that time had passed, and every time she became aware, she found herself in that oasis.
At least the visions had ceased. '
Aliisza spent considerable time reflecting upon the significance of the switch. Did I change something? she wondered. Did Tauran? Was that what he was looking for? For me to act? To defend, or protect?
Whatever the cause, she had welcomed the respite of returning to the garden. The visions had worn on her, made her more than weary. Her emotions had become raw. She felt things she had never known before. She wasn't sure she liked that. A part of her still resisted the impulse to save, to protect. She didn't want that responsibility, that weakness. She felt
exposure, vulnerability in such kindness and compassion.
She had mulled the implications of her imprisonment over and over. Each time, exhaustion had taken over before she could come to some conclusion. Eventually, she had vowed not to think about it anymore, at least not for a while. She had wanted merely to be. As an escape from those tormenting visions, she had welcomed the solitude of the garden. Even as she had settled down to rest, there had been an expectation of something, anticipation of an event, an occurrence. She had known she was waiting for Tauran. But she had been in no hurry for it to happen.
That had been before.
The gray void startled her. A change. What did it mean?
In the next instant, she was within her quarters, lying upon her bed. She hadn't come there much during her captivity, preferring the sights, sounds, and sensations of the garden to her bedroom. She wondered why she had brought herself there instead.
Rising up in the bed, Aliisza realized she was naked. That hadn't happened in quite some time, either. She looked about. Her clothes, her weapons, all of it lay draped over or resting against a nearby chair.
Something felt different. It... perturbed her.
Deciding to explore, the alu slipped out of bed and hurriedly dressed. Then she headed into the garden. It felt strange, different from the place she had grown used to.
At first, she assumed that Tauran had arrived, was sitting in the deeper shadows, waiting for her to regain consciousness. She peered about, staring into the recesses of the garden where the moonlight did not reach. The wind blew softly and made the chimes tinkle. The leaves of the trees fluttered in those breezes, their silvery color flashing like strange fireflies swarming amongst the branches.
There was no sign of the angel.
What is it, then? Aliisza pondered, searching her own awareness. What is different?
When she finally figured it out, the realization hit her hard. She was real. She existed. It wasn't merely a dream state, some out-of-body consciousness she felt.
She was flesh and blood again.
The thought made her stumble, nearly fall. Uncertain if she could trust her suspicions, she tested. She tried to dismiss the garden. Nothing. She willed her surroundings to change to daytime, for the sun to shine and the moon to vanish. The sky didn't alter.
Everything felt different because it was different. Her mind was no longer creating the place; she actually stood in the middle of the real garden, no longer a prisoner within her own mind.
"It must feel strange, after all this time existing only as a spirit," Tauran said.
Aliisza whirled to find him standing at the periphery of the garden, smiling.
"What happened?" she asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"You happened," the angel replied. "You acted. You rushed to her aid. You took a stand," he finished.
"I know," Aliisza answered, "but I didn't want to. I didn't want to feel that." Disorientation flowed through her. Her real body felt things again, things she had forgotten about. Aches, unsteady balance, an emptiness in the pit of her stomach. She had to make sense of it. "It's dangerous, caring for others. You leave yourself open to... to pain," she finished. The words sounded foolish in her ears.
"Yes," Tauran said, and his voice was gentle, consoling. "It is hard to care for others, to lend them aid, to offer them
solace and guidance. Because you give something of yourself in the process. And you fear that it will come back to injure you if you let it." The angel walked to Aliisza, took her hands in his. "You wall up your feelings because of fear. Fear of that pain. Everything we do in life, we do out of fear. Fear of betrayal—fear of pain."
"Fear of death," the alu finished.
"Yes," the deva said, growing excited. "Exactly. You fear all those things, yet you believe you can overcome them, if only you never let anyone get close to you, never get close to anyone. You think you can control those fears by protecting yourself from them. But the truth is, we are all powerless. In the end, those fears materialize despite our efforts."
"Then why bother living at all?" Aliisza asked, desperate. She did not want to feel those emotions. They terrified her. "How does making myself vulnerable change anything? It only makes it worse!"
"Ah, it would seem to from the outside looking in," Tauran answered. "But you know differently now. Don't you?"
"No," Aliisza said, trying to mean it. But she didn't. "I don't want to care!" she protested, knowing her words were false.
She did care. She cared about Lizel, admired the girl's courage, determination even in the face of so much adversity. She envied the young woman's convictions. Most of all, she craved the bond that girl would have with her child. Aliisza wanted that. She wanted to love her son.
Aliisza wanted her son to love her in return.
"Ask anyone," Tauran said as the alu's thoughts came full circle. "Anyone who has ever loved and lost will tell you it's still worth it. Despite the pain, the vulnerability, the joy that comes with caring cannot be diminished. In truth, you cannot have one without the other."
"It's still selfish," Aliisza said, sagging to the ground at the deva's feet. It was too much. "You still pursue it to please yourself."
"Of course," Tauran replied, settling beside her. "I serve Tyr for the sense of satisfaction I feel. You wish for your son to love you because you want the good feelings it brings. No one who looks openly and honestly inside themselves could claim otherwise."
"Then how is that better than serving yourself?" the half-fiend demanded, tears welling up in her eyes. "How can you mark one as good and the other, evil? I see no difference."
"Yes, you do," the angel said. "You know you do."
Aliisza tried to shake her head, tried to tell her counterpart that it was all the same, but she knew otherwise. In goodness, there was boon for all.
And in that moment, in that instant when she finally grasped how wonderful kindness and compassion could be, how it built and reverberated among all living things instead of destroying them, she felt ashamed. Her entire life had been nothing more than an endless series of terrible acts, all designed to bring her satisfaction at the expense of others.
She leaned close to Tauran, reached out for him. The angel took her in his arms, hugged her close. She pressed herself against him and sobbed.
For a long time, they remained like that. Aliisza simply let the grief wash through her, scouring away all of her shame and guilt. The catharsis was profound, immediate. Somehow, the angel was drawing her taint from her, and she felt clean, new, alive for the first time. The energy Tauran gave off didn't pain her anymore. It fed her, nourished her body and spirit together.
At last, they drew apart. Tauran peered into Aliisza's eyes, as though searching for something there. She smiled at him,
a grin that grew. She knew it showed her affection for the angel, her appreciation for all that he had done to bring her to that moment.
"I am whole," she said, and she reached up and caressed the deva's cheek.
He was so beautiful, she realized. Not just physically, though there was that. No, his inner strength, his convictions shone from within. She would have envied that if she didn't understand how he could share it with her. What she once would have wanted to wrest from him for her own use, she instead craved that he share with her. For in sharing it, it became even more bountiful, limitless.
"I have a surprise for you," the angel said, standing. He reached down and pulled Aliisza to her feet. "It's time."
The alu looked at her friend, confused. "Time for what?" she asked.
"To meet him," Tauran replied.
Aliisza's heart leaped into her throat. Her son! It was time to meet her child.
"N-no," she stammered, afraid. "I—I cannot."
"Why?" Tauran asked, genuinely puzzled. "You want to love him, and he you."
"Yes, but..." How could she explain it? she thought. How could she make sense of it herself? "I'm afraid," she said at last, raising her arms helplessly.
"Of what?"
"That he will not love me," she replied, and the tears welled up again. "That he will look upon his mother and know all the terrible things she has done, and he will turn away."
"That is possible," the deva said.
Aliisza looked at him, taken aback. His words surprised her. She had expected the angel to try to dismiss her fears, make her believe that all would be fine.
"You cannot predict, nor can you control, what is in another's heart," Tauran explained. "You can only give of yourself and see if something good comes in return."
"The risk..." Aliisza began, knowing it would always be there.
"Is worth the reward," the angel finished for her. "Without one, you cannot truly have the other."
Aliisza took a deep breath. "I know," she admitted. "But I am still afraid."
"Look how close you are, though," Tauran said. "Look what you've come through to achieve this. To turn away now would be tragic."
Aliisza thought through everything that had happened to her. Her struggle had been monumental, and through it all, the only thing that had ultimately mattered to her was to see her child born, and grow, and be happy. In a way, she had already sacrificed everything on his behalf. She knew then that it didn't matter what he thought of her. She had already given him everything she had.
"Take me to him," Aliisza said, mustering her conviction. "I want to see what he has become."
Tauran smiled and took her hand. "I don't need to," he said. "He's been here, with us, the whole time."
Aliisza felt a lump form in her throat. Here? All this time? He's watched me! Saw me laid open, bare, all of my failures! Oh, by the gods, no!
Tauran tugged at the half-fiend, gently pulled her along to the far side of the garden.
There, in the shadows, Aliisza could see a form. He was sitting on a bench, his face masked in darkness.
Her son.
He was larger than she expected, an adult. Much time had passed since his birth. Tauran had warned of it, but the
impact didn't truly hit her until just then.
I've missed his childhood, she lamented. I wonder how much he will look like me, how much he will resemble Kaanyr. Thinking of the cambion made her pause a second time. Kaanyr. What will he think? What will he do?
As they approached, her son stood. He wore a simple white tunic and leggings, very similar to the clothing many of the inhabitants of the House donned. He was not as tall as Aliisza would have expected, given Kaanyr s stature. But he was graceful.
He stepped into the soft light of the moon, and Aliisza realized she didn't even know his name, but the thought that she ought to ask Tauran that question vanished the moment she saw his face.
Ghost white hair, shorn short, framed an aquiline face the color of a dusky evening sky.
The garnet eyes of Pharaun Mizzrym's progeny stared back at Aliisza.
Chapter Fifteen
Aliisza felt the world shudder around her. So many emotions, so many thoughts hit her all at once. A part of her mind thought it was a trick. Tauran had brought some impostor to her, some half-drow that could not possibly be her son, in order to trick her, to test her somehow. But peering at that face, with its slightly arched eyebrows and high, delicate cheekbones, she knew it was her son. Hers and Pharaun's.
All that time, she had believed she carried Kaanyr Vhok's whelp within her. It was the only outcome she had considered, and when the error of her thinking made itself clear, she wanted to kick herself for her own foolish shortsightedness.
More emotion flooded through her. It began with a tingling, a feeling of something pressing against the back of her skull, at the base. Some dam that was on the verge of bursting hovered there.
And it was gone, and a torrent of memories hit her.
Aliisza staggered at the arrival of the onrushing visions. She watched them unfold inside her head as though she were there all over again.
She was standing in the passage of the Master's Hall,
facing Zasian Menz. She was disguised as Ansa, dressed only in a nightshirt, and he was reprimanding her for her prowling so late at night.
"You put me in a very difficult position, child," he said.
"Yes, sir," she replied. "I will be more careful."
"And now," the seneschal added, pulling a pendant from his shirt, "I must prepare you for your impending journey."
Aliisza started, unsure what the handsome man meant, but suddenly wary. "What journey?" she asked, prepared to edge away from whatever the man had been about to inflict upon her.
"Kaanyr Vhok needs you to do this," Zasian replied, twirling the pendant in his fingers. "A very long and arduous journey, a potentially deadly one."
Aliisza’s mouth gaped. "Who is Kaanyr?" she asked, feigning ignorance. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"It's all right, Aliisza," the seneschal answered. "I'm helping him. We've entered a pact to take the city together. I know your task is to secretly discredit Helm Dwarf-friend, but Vhok needs you for something more important now. We're going to meet you at the other end of this journey. You will be our key, to unlock the portal that is hidden. Without you, we cannot hope to succeed."
And he had proceeded to tell her many things. He had known she was with child, and he explained that her condition was necessary to make her journey. Her pregnancy would be the bait that would draw Tyr's lackeys to her, would tease them into capturing her with the intention of sparing her. He admonished her that she would need to protect the baby, whatever the cost. He had gone so far as to place a magical spell, a geas, he had called it, upon her to force her to comply. He explained that it would act subtly, without her knowledge, because she would not know that it existed. She would not
know her own role in the game, for the angels would ferret it out of her. She had to be ignorant, he explained. He had given her instructions to follow, a litany of tasks to complete once she remembered them.
And, before she could protest, before she could resist, Zasian Menz had made her forget it all.
She had gone through all the trials and tribulations without that knowledge, believing she had simply been caught and confronted, a quirk of unfortunate chance. She had spent her captivity fearful and ashamed that she had somehow failed her cambion lover.
But it came rushing back. Every last bit of it, including her anger and feelings of betrayal that Kaanyr would use her so, would endanger their child for some greater scheme of his. He had put her in that position himself.
Aliisza understood, too, that Zasian had set conditions for her to recall those forgotten memories. He had set the trigger to be her first glimpse of her own child.
All of that recollection, the whole of it, had been locked away in Aliisza's mind. Seeing her son had unleashed it. It had taken but an instant to regain, but the flood so overwhelmed her that she gasped and dropped to the ground, exhausted.
She tried to draw air. She needed to make sense of what she had just learned, to reconcile it with everything that had changed about herself during the tendays and months of solitude, of self-reflection. She struggled to wrap her mind around it, but it was just too much.
And something more bombarded the alu.
Magic coursed into Aliisza's mind. Spells materialized, planted there by Zasian, powerful dweomers set to trigger once she had regained her lost memories. He had hidden them away, like the memories themselves, to keep the celestials from seeing them. She understood his intentions in the
heartbeat it took for the arcane power to manifest.
In a second heartbeat, the magic activated.
Aliisza felt a rush. Something vanished from her, some veil that had been drawn over her mind. Magic, she saw. Powerful and blinding force, designed to make her view certain events a particular way. All of the agony she had experienced, all of the doubt and guilt that had consumed her during her visions became an artificial thing. The shame she had felt, the divine guidance that had led her to exhibit compassion and kindness lifted, separated from her. Aliisza saw it at last for what it was.
Trickery. Deception. Manipulation.
Tauran the holy celestial, Tauran the kind angel, Tauran of the uncompromising, idealistic convictions, had used magical coercion to change her point of view. The pain, the sorrow she had felt on Lizel's behalf was not her own. It had not come from the visions alone. Divine magic conjured by the lackeys of Tyr had created it, amplified it, and thrust it upon her.
And Zasian's spell had cast it off again.
She saw the world without guise once more. She understood her role within it, her part to play. She was a half-fiend, a powerful and cunning entity who showed no mercy, who tolerated no weakness. She knew what she wanted, and she claimed it for herself. That was how it had always been, and that was how it would remain forevermore. No one would control Aliisza through foolish, weepy emotions. Not Tauran, not Kaanyr, not ghosts from past lives.
Aliisza wanted to shout, wanted to jump up into the air and crow. A shout of triumph, to show she could not be chained. But she was still a prisoner, and there was more of Zasian's magic at hand.
A blinding flash of light struck her, knocked her consciousness from her body.
The disorientation of the seneschal's magic made Aliisza's
awareness spin. It felt as though she had left her body, was floating somewhere far beyond herself, like she had felt within the gray void. But it was different, much more frightening. And it lasted only an instant.
Then the alu discovered that she was staring at herself. She felt odd, not entirely right. Some sensations were missing, some new ones replaced them. As she stared, Aliisza watched her own body crumple to the ground. It looked as if she had fainted, but she was still awake.
Awake in another's body.
The half-fiend gasped, and her voice was different, more masculine. She swayed and stuck a hand out to the bench to steady herself. That hand was charcoal in color, with thicker fingers. Aliisza stared at it, realizing at last where she was.
She inhabited her son's form.
The half-fiend sank down, taking a seat on the bench, overwhelmed. She watched Tauran kneel down to check on her body, concern on his face. He leaned in close and listened to her breathing and sighed in relief.
"She fainted," he said, looking at Aliisza. "Your mother just wasn't expecting to see you as your father's son," he explained, kindness in his voice.
Aliisza didn't trust herself to answer. She swallowed hard and nodded.
"I guess you're a bit overwhelmed, too," the angel said. "You rest for a moment while I take her to her bed. Then we'll talk. You still have a lot to figure out, I suppose."
You don't know the half of it, Aliisza thought. She felt like glaring at the deva, but she instead gave him a weak, uncertain smile.
Tauran hoisted the alu's body onto his shoulder. Then he turned and trudged from the garden, through the portico toward the half-fiend's quarters.
Once he was out of sight, Aliisza drew a great, shuddering breath and tried to steady her nerves. Everything at last made some sense. Zasian had embedded latent magic within her that would cause her to shift bodies. She wondered what became of her sons consciousness.
Did we trade places? Does he now inhabit my form?
The alu felt a brief pang of regret, but it was short-lived. An opportunity lay before her, one that she was just beginning to recognize and understand. Zasian had locked so many secrets inside her that when they finally were released, it had been a flood. All of the memories, the magic, had come out in a rapid jumble, too fast to comprehend. They had slammed into the alu in only a few heartbeats, the moment she had seen her son's face. But with a few moments to herself, sitting on the bench, she was starting to grasp the seneschal's intentions. Zasian had thought everything through.
And he'd set it all up, she realized, so that Tauran wouldn't notice a thing. As far as the angel was concerned, Aliisza still resided in her own body, was still adjusting to her newfound sense of compassion and selflessness. Zasian had planned well. He had given the alu a means to escape, and to escape notice in the process.
Aliisza smiled to herself. She had an appointment to keep. Kaanyr was waiting on the far side of a portal, and she was the only one who could open it for him. She had to keep the deva from guessing the truth, would have to play it all carefully, but she would get to that doorway. She would unlock the ancient path. Nothing was going to stop her, so long as she kept her cool.
And there would be hell to pay. Everyone was accountable. Tauran, Kaanyr, Zasian. They all would answer to her wrath.
With his back pressed against the stone wall, surrounded by furious efreet who towered twice as tall as himself, Vhok had but one place to go. He levitated. As his feet left the ground and he rose into the air, Amak recognized the trick. The genie snarled in rage and leaped forward to deliver a killing blow before Vhok could evade him.
The cambion doubted he could slip away in time.
At that moment, the wall beside the half-fiend distorted. An arm, clad in black and silver, jutted from the rock as though it had grown there. It elongated, became a torso and head, and the rest of Zasian appeared, stepping free of the wall. He held his arm out, pointed, and uttered a phrase of power.
The Banite emerged from the wall slightly to one side of Vhok and the genie. Amak had been so focused on reaching the cambion that he did not see the priest in time. The efreeti jerked and stumbled to a stop, understanding that the human was bringing magic to bear, but he could not retreat from Zasian's outstretched finger or swing the falchion to defend himself.
Zasian nimbly darted toward the efreeti and tapped him once on the hip with the tip of his finger. As the priest sprang away again, out of reach of the genie's blade, a crackling sheen of dark energy swarmed over Amak. The black force flowed like roiling tendrils across the genie's body.
Amak shuddered and seized up. He arched his back and his eyes rolled back in his head. A great, primal scream emanated from him. He dropped the falchion and fell to his knees. The black energy crackled and faded, then the genie pitched forward, facedown. His body twitched a time or two, but otherwise lay still.
The other efreet stared in shock and awe at the corpse of their companion.
Vhok floated down to the ground. He came to rest beside Zasian, who stood glaring at the genies with his arms folded across his chest. The cambion drew a deep breath and added his own baleful stare.
"I trust no one else wishes to continue the folly of this dispute," Vhok said.
The gathered efreet began to mumble among themselves. None stepped forward.
"Excellent," Vhok said with a smile. "Then let me reiterate that my associate and I merely wish to find a guide to the City of Brass. We have no interest in wresting your precious mine from you."
Negotiating a trip to the efreet's capital was surprisingly easy. Vhok and Zasian observed a brief power struggle among the remaining genies to determine who would assume control of the mine. That task was interrupted by a short-lived slave revolt, which Vhok and Zasian helpfully put down. When the dust settled, the new efreeti leader agreed to transport the two visitors to the City of Brass as quickly as possible.
Before long, the cambion and the priest were racing across the Infernals, the small sea of magma between themselves and their destination, upon a magical flying carpet. A single efreeti commanded the conveyance, sitting cross-legged at the front. Vhok and Zasian sat side by side behind their guide, keeping a careful watch all around. They did not care to have another unpleasant visit from the flying beasts.
A hot wind, stinking of sulfur, whipped the half-fiend's hair. Smoke drifted in great clouds across their path, and their guide did his best to avoid the worst of it. Below them, the ocean of lava frothed and churned, and Vhok understood the difficulties they would have faced trying to cross it in a
boat. The ships that traveled upon the Infernals stuck close to shore because the sea was a tempest away from the coast. Keeping a craft afloat would have required something close to a miracle.
From time to time, the efreeti guide cast a fearful glance back at the pair. He seemed nervous about their intentions toward him. He regularly promised swift and accurate service and tried to assure his guests that nothing would interfere with them arriving at the City of Brass as fast as the carpet would allow.
Vhok was delighted with the turn of events. He and the Banite were speeding toward their destination, no longer trudging across broiling stone and free of assaults from native creatures. He congratulated himself on the decision to visit the mine, even though Hafiz had nearly delivered them into slavery or death.
After another period of travel, Vhok spotted it. Through the haze and smoke of the searing atmosphere, he spied the myriad spires of the City of Brass. They rose on the horizon like a multitude of fingers jutting up from the sea of lava, topped with minarets. As the travelers drew closer, the magnificent city came into view. From their distance, Vhok estimated that the city stretched forty miles or more across. The entire place rested within a great hemispherical bowl of magnificent size that floated upon the sea of fire. The city rose like some misshapen ziggurat from within that bowl, with the Grand Sultan's palace—the Charcoal Throne—near the center, at the highest point.
The guide steered the carpet closer and swooped lower, angling toward a place on the rim of the bowl. As Vhok peered ahead, he saw a huge gate there, an entrance to the city.
The half-fiend leaned forward and tapped the efreeti on the shoulder. "Why not just take us to the center of the city?"
he asked over the howling wind. "A nice inn, perhaps, some place that caters to travelers such as ourselves. No need to stop at the gate."
The genie cast a sour glance back at Vhok and adjusted his flight path. "It is forbidden," he explained. "All visitors must arrive by one of the gates around the city. To do otherwise is to break the Grand Sultan's laws."
Vhok rolled his eyes, but he shrugged and motioned for the efreeti to continue on his course. The cambion leaned over to Zasian. "I guess the Grand Sultan wants to make certain he gets his gate taxes," he said with a grimace.
The priest only nodded.
The efreeti slowed the carpet and guided it down as they neared a large open plaza before the gate. A broad set of steps descended from the edge of the plaza into the sea of fire. Vhok supposed it had been built so that creatures native to that element and others upon floating craft could arrive and depart easily. At the moment, no one was there.
The genie set the flying carpet down close to the gate. As the great rippling tapestry touched down, Vhok stood and stretched. Zasian rose beside him and stepped off the carpet. Once Vhok disembarked, the genie gave them a cursory salute. "Simply announce yourselves to the guards, and they will charge a small fee to pass through," the efreeti explained. "Welcome to the City of Brass," he added.' "Enjoy your stay."
Before Vhok could respond and thank their guide, the efreeti had the carpet aloft and was speeding away.
The cambion chuckled. "I think he's happy to be rid of us," he said. "Maybe he thought you were going to slay him with a touch and steal his magical carpet."
Zasian shrugged. "I considered it," he said. "It was such a wondrous piece of magic," he added ruefully, watching the carpet and the genie grow tiny in the distance.
The pair turned and strolled toward the gate. The portal was massive, with a great set of brass doors barring passage. Within the large doors, a smaller pair was inset, and those stood open. A pair of efreet, bare-chested and red-skinned, flanked the smaller portal. They seemed completely disinterested in Vhok and Zasian.
When the two visitors reached the gate, the efreeti on the left gave them a sharp glance. "State your name and business!" he ordered.
"Kaanyr Vhok, Lord of the Scourged Legion, Ruler of Ammarindar and points beyond. I am just visiting. And my associate here..." he said, gesturing toward the priest.
"Zasian Menz, Seneschal of the Master's Hall in Sundabar in the service of Helm Dwarf-friend. Also visiting."
The efreeti eyed them for a moment. He brought a hand up and scratched his chin. "Very well," he said, as though reaching some monumental decision. "Ten pieces of gold apiece to enter."
Vhok coughed to hide his surprise. "Is that all?" he asked sarcastically. "A pittance, considering." He fetched a small garnet from the folds of his tunic and handed the efreeti the gem. "Will that cover us both?" he asked.
The genie studied the stone for a moment, then slipped it into a small brass box hanging from his belt. "Ought to do," he replied. Then he stepped aside, giving access to the door. "Welcome to the City of Brass," he said, and let the two visitors enter. "Enjoy your stay."
The passage through the gate was longer than Vhok expected. It was a narrow tunnel running through the massive doors, which appeared to the cambion to be made of solid brass. He could not imagine anything so heavy remaining upright.
On the far side of the passage, he was assaulted by a
cacophony of sights, sounds, and smells. The first thing he noticed was blessed coolness. The city did not radiate endless heat like the rest of the plane. Vhok wondered what sort of magic would be required to accomplish such a feat. He didn't ultimately care, though. He welcomed the change.
A broad thoroughfare led from the larger gate, and like any city, it was lined with buildings. Businesses of every conceivable nature filled those shops, and the patrons who visited them spilled out into the wide street. Vendors hawked their wares from wagons and carts, bartering with customers in a constant din that made Vhok's ears roar. It all looked so familiar to the cambion, and yet everything was completely different.
The assortment of life dazzled the half-fiend. Never had he seen such a variety of folk. Humans mingled with demons, devils, and efreet everywhere. Salamanders, their serpentine torsos snaking out behind them, moved freely among the others. The cambion even spotted a fire giant gliding through the morass of citizens, window shopping.
Slaves, many of them azer, moved through the street, too. Some accompanied their masters, often led by chains attached to collars, while others traveled independently, wearing only heavy brass bracelets to denote their status.
None of the legion gave Vhok or Zasian a second glance.
The smells of sweat and exotic food wafted to the half-fiend. He spied a street vendor doling out skewers of meat to any with coin. Some of the flesh had been charred beyond recognition, and some of it still burned as he sold it. But the merchant had enough human customers that he offered more palatable fare, too.
Vhok's stomach rumbled.
"Hey, you two," a voice called. "You need a guide, yes?" Vhok glanced over to a young man, a human, standing
off to one side. He pointed and gestured to the two arrivals, nodding vigorously.
The cambion smirked. "You know your way around this maze?" he asked, filled with doubt. "You're more likely to lead us into some blind alley so your friends can try to strong-arm us out of a few coppers."
The young man looked wounded. "I would never presume to insult such powerful lords," he said earnestly. "I offer you comfortable travel to anywhere in the city," he said, producing a small bronze statue from his pocket.
Vhok peered closely at it and noted that it appeared to be a casting of a hippogriff. A horselike creature with the wings and head of a great eagle, the statue was posed so that the beast reared up on its hind legs. "How is that going to help us?" he asked, still suspicious.
In answer, the young man tossed the statue down and uttered some unintelligible word.'
Immediately, the statue grew in size and bloomed to life. In the time required for Vhok and Zasian to step out of the way, the thing became an actual hippogriff, and a massive one.
Vhok saw that it sported a special saddle, along with a pair of wicker panniers hanging from either side. The hippogriff snorted once, then screeched loudly. It pawed the ground with talons rather than hooves.
"You see? I can get you anywhere you wish to go, and fast," the young man said, beaming.
Vhok looked at Zasian.
The priest shrugged. "Might as well," he said. "It will take us days to fight our way through the city otherwise."
Vhok considered the man's words and nodded. "All right," he said, turning to their would-be guide. "You get us to the Sultan's Palace without mishap, and I'll make it more than worth your while."
The boy's eyes widened. "The Charcoal Palace?" he said with a hint of awe. "Why do you wish to go there?"
"Why, to see it, of course," Vhok answered with a silly grin. "What visit to the City of Brass would be complete without seeing the fabled palace of the most powerful efreeti in the multiverse?"
The young man still seemed doubtful, but he nodded and climbed onto the back of the hippogriff. Settled in his saddle, he gestured for his two customers to board.
"You want to go to the palace right away?" Zasian asked quietly.
The cambion nodded. "Yes," he replied. "After our dealings with Hafiz the overseer, how do you rate our chances of success bargaining with the sultan?"
"I see your point," the priest said.
"Exactly. So I think we should consider other means of getting in."
The Banite gave the half-fiend an incredulous look. "You realize that you're plotting to break into the palace of the most powerful genie in the city, don't you? Perhaps the most powerful genie in the multiverse!"
Vhok patted Zasian on the shoulder and grinned. "We don't have to get back out, do we?" The priest rolled his eyes and shook his head. "So we only need to know where we're going, and stay ahead of the guards. We'll find an inn nearby after we've scouted a bit. We can rest tonight, cast an augury to make sure Aliisza is where she needs to be, and slip in tomorrow."
"As you wish," the priest said. He didn't sound at all convinced.
Vhok saw that the pannier had a hinged door in its side. He stepped closer to the conveyance and looked inside. Swinging the narrow door open, he stepped into the basket
and latched the door. The rim of the pannier rose to just below his armpits.
Zasian walked around the hippogriff and boarded the opposite container. Once both travelers were safely in their baskets, the young man gave a sharp command to the hippogriff. The magical beast screeched and reared up slightly. The sudden shift threw Vhok off balance and nearly tilted him out of his seat within the basket.
"Hold on tight, Masters!" the boy cried. Then the hippogriff launched itself and its burden into the air, and they were off.
As smooth and delightful as the magical carpet ride had been, the journey within the pannier was equally unpleasant. The hippogriff’s motion was sudden and jerky, and Vhok found it nearly impossible to maintain his balance. Their guide steered the beast haphazardly, shifting and climbing, rolling and diving incessantly. With each change in course, the cambion found himself crumpled in a heap at the bottom of his wicker basket. He finally managed to remain upright by bracing his knees to both sides and clinging to the rim with both hands.
Despite his discomfort, Vhok found the view of the great city to be splendid. The metropolis bustled with life and activity in every direction. Great thoroughfares zigged and zagged between massive palaces of marble, sandstone, and brass. Markets as large as some small communities back on Faerûn spread out between the edifices. The half-fiend was sure that tens of thousands of citizens roamed the market stalls, exchanging coins for all manner of goods.
Canals of flame coursed throughout the city, creating a network of glowing avenues between the solid routes. Small boats plied those fiery paths, poled along by navigators working hard to deliver cargo and passengers to their destinations.
The whole city teemed with life and trade.
At last, the trio drew near the Charcoal Palace. The building was immense, rising like some magical many-spired basalt mountain out of the city. A latticework of walkways, plazas, and shiny, brassy domes seemed to defy gravity. A great fountain of purple fire plumed in front of the main gates, where a dozen well-armed and armored efreet stood guard.
"How close can you fly without raising their ire?" Vhok shouted to their guide. "I'd like to get a better look."
The young man raised an eyebrow in wary surprise, but he nodded and guided the hippogriff closer. The trio circled the palace twice, not quite flying within the perimeter of the walls. Vhok spotted a female efreeti standing upon a balcony. She appeared to be watching them through a long brass tube. Her robes were colorful and gaudy, and he supposed she might be some vizier or advisor to the sultan.
On the third pass around the palace, Vhok leaned out as far as he dared to gaze into the inner sanctum of the sultan. He sought a particular locale within the palace, a great open courtyard.
He spied it.
The courtyard lay at the base of a large tower. It formed a semicircle around the spire, and a single causeway spanned it, leading from the door of the tower to a middling defensive wall beyond. That was their destination.
Vhok had seen enough, but needed a view from ground level. He leaned forward to shout instructions to the boy to set the hippogriff down near the purple fountain, but the words died in his throat as a crackling blast of blinding white energy engulfed them.
The hippogriff screamed in agony and lurched sideways in the sky. Vhok felt the pannier tip sideways and he began to fall out. He grabbed frantically at anything and his fingers locked onto the rim of the basket, but he felt no resistance, no
gravity pulling against him. He looked up and saw that the entire saddle and pannier had broken free of the hippogriff. Zasian huddled inside the other basket, but the guide and his mount drifted free.
Vhok spun himself upright and reached across the baskets. "Grab on!" he shouted to the priest.
Zasian pulled himself hand over hand along the ruined saddle and panniers until he caught hold of the cambion's hands.
With a death-grip on the Banite, Vhok summoned the innate power within himself to slow his descent. As the cambion felt the two of them ease into a hover, the saddle and pannier tumbled away. A heartbeat later, the boy and his mount zoomed by, also falling from the sky. Neither of them flailed as they fell.
The half-fiend struggled to keep himself and Zasian aloft. With the priest's weight, the cambion could not find the power to rise, but he felt certain that their landing would be slowed enough to avoid deadly injury.
Unless they were attacked again before reaching the ground.
Vhok whipped his head about, searching for the source of their misfortune. He spotted a figure above and behind him, riding upon a most unusual conveyance. The mount was a huge black fly that hummed and buzzed as it circled, coming closer to the pair of hovering companions. Vhok squinted to get a better look at their attacker.
Myshik grinned and steered his magical mount closer. The half-dragon raised his dwarven axe to strike at them as he passed.
Chapter Sixteen
The hardest thing to adjust to inside her son's body, Aliisza realized, was being unable to fly whenever she wanted. Wings were as much a part of the alu as her eyes. Instinct made her want to leap into the air and soar with a thought. Remembering that she could not was more difficult than she imagined.
The transplanted half-fiend stood on the outskirts of a small village where Kael—she had finally learned her son's birth name—was staying while visiting the House of the Triad. The village rested on one of the myriad floating islands in the celestial plane, larger than most and covered with lush green forest.
Tauran had brought her there, still cloaked in Kael's flesh and blood, after he had tucked her own collapsed body into bed. He had seemed concerned about Aliisza's condition at the time, but she noticed that he tried not to reveal his worry to the young man. He assured Kael that his mother would be fine, that she only needed more rest. Rest, and time to adjust to everything that was new.
Aliisza had done her best to play along, though she spoke as little as possible. She possessed but one chance to slip away
from the deva. If she revealed that it was her consciousness inside her son's body, Tauran would learn the truth about her, about Kaanyr s journey, all of it.
If he discovered the deception, the angel would certainly prevent the alu from completing her part in the gambit.
After transporting Aliisza to the village, Tauran had left. "To attend to your mother," he had explained. The alu was thankful for his quick departure, though she knew time was of the essence. Sooner or later, the angel would figure out her trick and come looking for her.
The others living within the small woodland community were all servants of Tyr who had journeyed to the House of the Triad for some reason or another. They had not died, Aliisza realized. They merely had business on the home plane of their deity and lived there while visiting.
Most of the residents were human, though she met one odd creature that named its kind leonal. That one exhibited traits of both a human and a lion, and Aliisza could sense its celestial nature. All of the folk living there seemed to accept Kael without reservation or prejudice. Though she suspected that her son had been among them for only a short time, they treated him as a life-long friend.
She slipped away the first chance she could, as much to put some distance between herself and all of that warmth and friendliness as to begin her tasks.
She hiked through the woods on the outskirts of the hamlet. She sought something quite ordinary, but she feared that she would be unable to find what she needed.
Who knows if mushrooms grow on this plane? she wondered. Did Zasian think this through?
She carried a small flask made of iron, with a stopper fitted into its opening. It was merely a beat-up container she had borrowed from an old woman who had spent much of her life
as an herbalist. The sweet crone hadn't even asked Kael what he might need with it.
There, she thought, spotting some fungus. Perfect.
Quickly, Aliisza gathered the mushrooms, stuffing them into the flask. She crammed as many as would fit; she had no idea how many would be sufficient.
When she was done, she tucked the flask inside Kael's tunic and considered how best to begin her journey. Again, the urge to leap up and fly hit her. The sensation of being grounded aggravated her a heartbeat later, and she nearly cursed in exasperation.
Then inspiration hit.
She had no wings, but that did not mean she couldn't muster a means of flying. All she needed was a few bird feathers.
Aliisza spotted a nest in the lower branches of a strange, tangled tree ahead of her. She approached it and confirmed that it was occupied. She opted to disturb the birds only as a last resort, and instead scanned the ground beneath the nest. When the alu spotted the wing feather, she grinned in triumph. It did not take her long to locate three more.
Four ought to be enough, she thought. If not, then I guess I'll be stuck out there. Until Tauran hunts me down, at least.
With feathers in hand, Aliisza drew a breath and focused her mind. Pinching a feather between her thumb and forefinger, she swept it across both her shoulders, as though stroking the place where her own wings might have been. At the same time, she incanted a phrase of magical power, invoking the arcane forces she needed.
When the litany was finished, Aliisza felt the magic snap within her. She knew, without being able to explain why, that she could fly. She trotted forward a few steps and jumped into
the air. Immediately, she soared up among the treetops and shot through a gap in the canopy.
The grace and deftness of the magical flight was superior to the alu's natural talent. She had occasionally used it, despite her own wings, to maneuver more adroitly when needed. The only drawback to the spell was its limited time. She did not have a moment to waste.
Sailing over the tree-covered island, the half-fiend surveyed the landmarks she could see in the early morning sun. She spied one of the great mountains jutting up from the lower layer of clouds, disappearing again in an overhead blanket of white. She wasn't certain which peak it was, but she knew the four of them huddled together, so that was het destination. She mentally urged herself forward.
The alu pondered her newly restored memories. She reviewed Zasian's instructions about her destination. She remembered thinking that the seneschal's words had sounded odd, his description nonsensical. But having spent so much time on the celestial plane, she better understood what the man had been trying to communicate. The explanation still struck her as bizarre.
As she flew, Aliisza watched for other denizens of the House. She did not want a confrontation with some angel wondering where Kael might be going. She knew that her chance of crossing paths with a local would increase as she drew closer to the floating islands, so she evaded them as much as possible, adjusting her course and altitude.
As the alu drew closer to the great peak, she saw that it was indeed the central mountain, Celestia. The divine crag seemed to have no beginning and no end, only endless slopes leading ever upward or downward into the cloak of clouds. The half-fiend followed the closest slope upward, ascending in earnest.
Within moments, she vanished into the thick haze of a cloud bank. As before, when she had yearned to escape the prison Tauran had ensnared her in, she continued to fly. Higher and higher she rose, but she no longer expected to reach the upper limit of the fog. She kept pushing the magic, struggling to attain greater elevation.
The air grew cold and dark. Moisture coated her skin— Kael's skin, she reminded herself. It made her clothing soggy and chilled. She ignored it and kept rising.
The wind picked up, buffeting her. The rumble of thunder, still distant, reached her ears. She climbed, fighting fatigue, knowing her flight would fail soon.
When the arcane power waned, Aliisza felt as if she were trapped in a swirling maelstrom. A storm lashed at her, tossing her about. Rain and wind pummeled her borrowed body, and arcs of lightning crackled all around her, blinding and deafening her. The magic gave out, but it didn't matter. She was no longer in control of her motion.
The storm itself held the alu aloft.
Aliisza gave in to the tempest. She allowed it to carry her wherever it willed. She didn't resist, didn't try to fight it. Those had been Zasian's instructions, but the act took more courage than she could ever remember drawing from herself. She was sure she would die, ripped apart by the storm or dashed against the slopes of the great mountain.
After a while, the tumbling and spinning completely disoriented the half-fiend. She had no idea which way was up or down. She couldn't even be certain she traveled in a single direction. For all she knew, the wind simply swirled her in circles, tossing her along in gusts like some rag doll trapped in a hurricane.
She closed her eyes to keep from screaming in terror.
When the rain and wind and crackling lightning suddenly
ceased, it startled Aliisza. One moment, the storm raged at its mightiest, and the next, she was skidding across a cool stone floor. The body she had borrowed tumbled to a stop in what felt like a shallow puddle of water. She flopped there, too exhausted to move.
For many moments, Aliisza lay where she halted, panting. Her heart thudded in her chest, and she could not muster the courage to open her eyes. The storm still roared, but it was distant, muffled. The smell of rain was strong and the air felt damp. At last, she worked up her nerve and took a peek.
The alu lay on the edge of a broad, still pool of water. A faint mist covered it, so that it blurred in the distance and Aliisza could not see the far side. A white marble floor veined with gold formed the edge of the pool, gently sloping down to the water like a sandy beach. It, too, faded into the wispy fog on either side of her.
Massive fluted stone columns made of the same stone rose from the water, rows and columns stretching into the mist. They held up nothing. No ceiling covered the pool—only a blanket of night sky filled with stars loomed overhead. The columns had no tops, nor were they jagged, broken things. They merely faded as they ascended, like ghosts shifting to some ethereal state.
No walls surrounded the space—the edges of the marble floor simply stopped, and the tops of great storm clouds stretched outward from there, rumbling with dull thunder and flickering with lightning. The light illuminating the place seemed to emanate from everywhere and nowhere. The water gleamed darkly and reflected the sky, and the mist hovering over it glowed with a pearlescent and heavenly essence.
The alu felt queasy in that place. The same sickness that had affected her in the presence of Tauran early in her stay washed over her again, even more acutely.
Slowly, with much trepidation, Aliisza sat up. She ached from her rough landing, but no part of her son's body seemed seriously injured. Gingerly, the alu rose to her feet. Standing ankle-deep in the water, she listened for signs that she was not alone. The half-fiend detected only the faint dripping of water from her own clothing, and the muted rumble of the furious storm beyond.
Drawing a deep breath to steady her nerves, Aliisza took one tentative step farther into the water. It was neither warm nor cold. It merely felt wet, like a tepid bath. She took another step, and another, each one carrying her away from the marble shore and into deeper depths. After five steps, the water had risen to her thighs. After ten, it reached her waist. Three more, and she kicked off, swimming instead of wading.
The alu paddled slowly, listening. The luminescent fog wafted all around her, but was not so thick that she couldn't still see the shore she had left. The water smelled clean and fresh, not foul at all, but it was utterly lightless and murky. The myriad pinpricks of diamond white in the night sky reflected in its surface, shimmering and bouncing as she disturbed it.
The half-fiend swam close to a column. The pillar was huge, the width of a cottage. She reached out and touched it, felt where it descended below the surface of the water. She dragged a toe against it, searching for a lower end, but it continued on. Taking a gulp of air, Aliisza dived downward. She kicked with her feet and ran her hand along the column. Down she thrust, pushing herself deeper and deeper, seeking the base of the column and bottom of the pool. She could find neither.
With a start, she realized how deeply she had swum, how completely dark the depths of the water were. She panicked and reversed her course. She dragged her arms through the water, using her son's powerful muscles to pull herself toward
the surface. She could barely make out a glow there, could only just see the light of a few faint stars. Those tiny fragments of illumination in a pit of blackness were the only things that kept her sane just then.
When she broke the surface, she threw her head back and gasped for air. Relief washed over her. She trembled, wondering how a place of such holy goodness could be so frightening. Even then, the inky black water terrified her. She wanted nothing more than to be standing on the dry stone at the pool's edge.
I can't do this, she decided. To the Abyss with Kaanyr.
The alu began swimming back to the shore. A subtle, creeping fear tingled along her spine. A sensation that something was directly below her, coming for her, made her shiver.
She swam faster.
An explosion of water erupted somewhere behind the alu. Despite her terror, she spun around and looked back. A great serpentine thing burst from the depths of the pool. Its arrival sent a cascade everywhere, splashing Aliisza and drenching her eyes.
When she was able to see again, the creature hovered above her, peering down at her.
Its snakelike body glistened with moisture, and its scales, a deep purple hue, flickered with a faint, subtle light that coursed over its body. Broad leathery wings held it aloft, their regular flapping making waves upon the pool's surface.
But it was the head that froze Aliisza's attention. A long, sharp-angled snout flared from a broad, flat head. A series of ridges and horns angled back from the jaw line, cheeks, and forehead. Two glittering eyes, flickering with the crackling of lightning, stared at the alu with a keen intelligence, and the mouth, filled with teeth the size of daggers, opened in a feral grin.
A storm dragon.
The beast opened his mouth and spoke, the Words like rumbling thunder. "Welcome to my temple, little one. Who gave you permission to swim in my waters?"
Vhok released the magical energy holding both himself and Zasian aloft. The pair fell again, but the maneuver served to drop them out of reach of Myshik's axe. The half-dragon lunged at them, nearly tipping over as he tried to strike, but the blade whisked harmlessly over the cambion's head.
Myshik cursed the two of them as he struggled to right himself atop his hideous insect mount. The giant fly wobbled and banked from the unbalanced weight, carrying its rider away. Once the draconic hobgoblin managed to right himself, he guided the fly around in a circle.
He was coming for them again.
"Down there!" Zasian yelled. Vhok grabbed both of the priest's hands and locked his grip around the man's wrists. Zasian grasped Vhok in return. But the Banite was jerking his head in the direction of the semicircular courtyard within the palace as he dangled in the air. "Go that way!"
Vhok shook his head as he tried to gain control of his magical levitation. "I would, but I can't!" he called, shouting to be heard above the whistling air. "I go up or down, that's all!" He managed to arrest their fall again, slowing them to a less deadly pace. "And right now, with your extra weight, it's only down," he added, straining to hold on to the priest. "Can you save yourself)" he asked. "Any magic left for flying or whatnot?"
Zasian shook his head. "Nothing. We cast it all at the mine. But I might get Myshik with something before he cleaves us both in half."
Vhok watched the half-dragon approaching again. The draconic hobgoblin held his axe drawn back and was swooping in for another slice at them. "Do it," the cambion said. "Hurry, because I'm dropping us the moment you're done."
Zasian nodded and released one of Vhok's hands. The half-fiend moved his free hand to hold onto the priest's other arm with a double grip.
Zasian grabbed at his pendant and muttered something Vhok couldn't hear. He gestured toward the approaching half-dragon as he finished the spell.
A blinding column of fire roared downward from the heavens. Vhok flinched at the sight of it. It bored down, right atop Myshik, and engulfed the Clan Morueme whelp.
Vhok didn't wait to see Myshik's condition. The moment the casting was complete, he released his levitation magic and once more, the duo fell from the sky.
Something blue tumbled past Vhok as he and Zasian fell, but he didn't get a clear view of it, for at that moment, a second object slammed into the priest, sending them both spinning. The blow wrenched Vhok and Zasian apart. The cambion felt the priest's hand slip away.
Vhok flailed in the air, still falling. Then his mind cleared and he slowed himself with his magic. He watched as his companion, who had caught the brunt of the blow, arced sideways.
The priest fell against the side of a dome atop the sultan's palace. It was a glancing blow, and Zasian skidded for a bit before sliding down the curved, steep side. He spread his arms and legs, attempting to halt his advance, but his momentum was too great, and he slipped over the side of the onion-shaped top.
Supreme luck was with the priest. The drop dumped him near a railed balcony just below the dome, and Zasian
grabbed hold of the banister with one hand as he tumbled past. He jerked to a sudden stop and hung there for a moment, sagging.
Vhok wondered if his counterpart had the strength to hoist himself up, but he had other things to worry about. Upright and floating once more, he scanned the air for any sign of Myshik. He spotted the half-dragon gliding through the air below. The draconic hobgoblin no longer rode his magical mount, nor did he have his axe. He was using his wings to control his fall, descending at an angle and steering himself to avoid the buildings in his path.
Myshik landed, rather roughly, in a street near the purple fountain of flame in front of the palace. Vhok saw several of the efreeti palace guards move to confront the half-hobgoblin. The cambion was certain they would attack Myshik, try to capture him, but instead, it appeared that they treated him deferentially. They helped him to his feet and escorted him through the gates and into the palace.
Terrific, Vhok thought. They're on his side. All the more reason to hurry, he decided.
The cambion turned his attention back to Zasian.
The priest had climbed onto the balcony, and he leaned against the wall, panting. No one had come to the doorway from within, but Vhok knew his companion had little time. Zasian stood upright and made a familiar motion. The half-fiend recognized the gesture as the workings of healing magic.
"What now?" Vhok shouted to the priest when the spell was finished.
Zasian looked at him and shrugged. "We have to get down into that courtyard," he said, pointing. Vhok could see that the semicircular enclosure was directly below the priest. But the cambion was nowhere near his destination. Were he to levitate
down, he would place himself on the wrong side of a massive defensive wall.
The two of them were separated by only ten paces or so, but it might as well have been the world right then. Vhok had no magic left to reach his companion.
"Your rope!" Vhok said, inspired. "Hold it up!"
Zasian nodded, understanding Vhok's intentions. He pulled a coil of rope from his belongings and held it up.
Vhok mouthed a spell and pointed at the coil. He felt a magical connection take hold, and he could control the rope.
"Hold one end!" Vhok said, and when the priest grasped the tip of it, Vhok began to magically reel the other end toward himself.
The coil was more than enough to stretch between them, and as soon as Vhok took hold of his end, he and Zasian started pulling.
A thin beam of scorching heat slashed near Vhok. The ray had emanated from the ground below. A second one blasted past the cambion, and a third struck him. He jerked in pain and nearly lost his grip on his lifeline to Zasian.
The half-fiend peered down and saw numerous palace guards gathered around the base of the tower. The efreet stood in a clump, launching the fiery rays at will. Other guards swarmed the palace grounds, moving to join them.
Vhok saw a trio of efreet dematerialize, turning to puffs of ghostly vapor. The gaseous creatures ascended, heading toward the balcony where Zasian pulled on the rope.
Vhok redoubled his efforts.
The priest cried out, struck by a pair of molten beams. Vhok felt a second one strike him, too, and the searing pain was almost too much. He felt himself growing faint, and he had to fight to maintain his grip on the rope.
"Don't slow down!" Zasian shouted. "When you get here, just drop! No levitation! Otherwise, they'll pick us out of the sky!"
Vhok raised his eyebrows at the priest's suggestion, but he didn't stop pulling. Zasian swung one leg over the top of the railing as the cambion drew near. A scorching blast nicked the priest, and another hit the rope, severing it.
Vhok was still a good two paces from Zasian. They both gauged the distance and mutely agreed that it was enough. Simultaneously, they jumped toward each other. Vhok released his magic as he and the priest crashed together. They wrapped their arms around each other as they fell once more.
The efreet's magical rays continued to arc through the sky, but the blasts missed the rapidly descending duo. Vhok fought the urge to slow them down. He knew that the speed of their fall made it difficult for the palace guards to aim, but it went against every fiber of his being to willingly plummet to the flagstones of the courtyard.
The drop seemed to last forever, yet the ground rushed up at them at a terrifying rate. Just when Vhok didn't think he could hold off any longer, Zasian yelled.
"Now!" the priest barked. "Slow us down!"
Vhok willed the magic to take hold, but their momentum and the extra weight strained him to his limits. The cambion felt as if he were being crushed from below, but he managed to arrest most of their downward motion.
They hit the courtyard hard enough to send them sprawling.
Vhok felt the breath driven from his lungs, and he lay for a moment, struggling to regain it. White light marred his vision, and his left shoulder ached where he had landed on it. He would have stayed there longer, but the heat of a fiery
ray hit the stones near his cheek, and he jumped up to look for cover.
The expansive courtyard lay well below the rest of the palace grounds. It was more of a natural rock garden than a courtyard, a veritable jungle of stone outcroppings, spindly trees, and tall grasses. The walls surrounding the garden rose thirty feet or more and curved inward near the top; climbing them was near impossible. Vhok was relieved to see that there was no evidence of the endless jets of fire and acrid, stinging smoke so prevalent elsewhere on the plane.
"Come on!" Zasian called. "This way!"
Vhok spotted the priest just ahead of him, charging toward an undercut beneath a large boulder. The efreet still fired their magical rays, and the cambion needed no encouragement to follow the human.
Vhok ducked into a shallow hiding place and crumpled down beside Zasian. Both of them gasped, in pain and out of breath.
"We can't tarry," the priest said, ducking his head out for a quick glimpse. "They're already coming over the wall."
"No time to see if she made it?" Vhok asked. "How can we pass through the portal unless we know?"
Zasian give the half-fiend a hard stare. "What other choice do we have?" he asked. "All we've fought for—all we've struggled against—has been to put us in this position. Do you fear to take the final step now?"
Vhok sucked in air. "No," he said after only a moment's hesitation. "She'll be there."
Zasian nodded. "Then let's go. It rests at the far end of this enclosure. If we can reach it, they won't follow." The priest risked another quick glance, ducked back in when a singeing blast smacked against the rock near his head, then said, "Now!"
Together, Vhok and his companion rushed from their shelter. The shouts of pursuing efreet followed them, but they did not slow down. Racing from cover to cover, the pair charged through the undergrowth, using the environment to shield them from their pursuers. Vhok felt the hot burning of a ray strike his back, and he nearly lost his footing as the searing pain overwhelmed him, but he managed to stay upright.
The shouts of the chase never wavered.
All at once, as the two of them raced around a jagged spire of rock, Zasian slowed. Vhok nearly collided with the priest, but he veered to one side just in time. The cambion stared where his companion did. At first, he couldn't see what Zasian had spotted, but then it became clear to him, and he gasped.
A gargantuan serpentine body lay unmoving, coiled around a great chunk of basalt as big as a house that thrust up from the floor of the courtyard only a few paces away. The creature's scales glimmered purple-blue in the orange light of the sky. Vhok could see no sign of a head. He assumed it would lie on the far side of the basalt.
A ray of scorching energy whizzed over Vhok's shoulder. The beam struck the massive flank of the resting serpent squarely. With a shudder, the beast began to uncoil. Its head rose into view, towering over the cambion and the priest.
The snake peered down at the two intruders in its lair. It hissed and opened its mouth, lunging forward to strike.
Chapter Seventeen
Vhok swallowed his terror and held still. For the second time, he fought against his instincts. One part of his mind tried to make his body run, but he held his ground. Indeed, he took a step closer to the massive snake, more into the open.
Beside the cambion, Zasian seemed rooted to the spot. The priest muttered something under his breath, and Vhok saw that he held his pendant firmly in one hand.
The snake's head descended toward them, mouth gaping. The maw was large enough to engulf both humanoids.
"Get ready!" Zasian shouted. Vhok had no idea what the priest meant, but the great mouth closed the distance between them before he could ask. "Now!" Zasian screamed. "Jump into it!"
Refusing to dwell on the idiocy of leaping into a giant snake's mouth, Vhok vaulted forward. Together, the duo landed on the lower jaw, just clearing the fangs. The snake clamped its mouth down, engulfing the pair in darkness. Vhok felt tissue and muscle enclose him, smelled the stench of the creature's flesh and venom surrounding him.
The cambion wanted to scream. The sensation of being
trapped overwhelmed, terrified him. He flailed about, suddenly desperate to get out. He felt his arm strike Zasian, sensed the priest squirming just ahead of him. Saliva drenched the half-fiend. The snake's insides pushed against him, sliding him along. He was being swallowed whole.
Oh, by the fell fiends, he thought, frantic to be free again, what have I done? Nothing is worth this!
Vhok kept his eyes and mouth shut as he slid along. He couldn't see, couldn't breathe. The sting of acids irritated his exposed skin. The constant pressure of muscle squeezed him, crushed him. He could only wiggle, and just barely.
Please, Aliisza. Be there. Hurry.
Vhok could feel himself swaying, and he wondered if the snake was moving.
Something hard struck him in the head. Zasian's boot, he realized. The priest was trying to kick.
My blade, Vhok thought, past the point of panic. Got to reach Burnblood! Cut my way free!
But of course, his arms were immobile, pinned against his body.
He was going to die, digested within the snake.
Aliisza quaked in the water, watching the storm dragon hover over her. She hadn't expected him to speak to her. That wasn't part of the plan. Zasian had never mentioned it.
She wondered what to do next. She wanted to flee.
Instinct overcame rational thought and she turned and began swimming away. She paddled furiously with Kael's strong muscles, pulling for all she was worth toward the shore. It was so tantalizingly close, and yet so far away.
The dragon zoomed past and drew up before her, blocking
her path. "Answer me, little creature, or I shall slay you. Who told you to come and splash around in my pool?"
Aliisza turned away, swimming in another direction. Like a fish fleeing a bird of prey, she wanted only to escape.
The dragon dived into the water behind her.
Aliisza realized it was worse than having the wyrm hovering over her, for she could not sense where the beast was until too late. She stifled a scream and turned to draw herself toward the edge. She kept reaching down with her toes, hoping to find the solid bottom in the shallows. At the same time, she was petrified of poking her foot down into the dragons gaping mouth.
The creature surfaced beneath her. But he did not eat her. Instead, he thrust her upward with his snout, tossing her high into the air. She sailed away from the shoreline, out into the middle of the pool. She brushed past one column, then struck a second one. The blow drew a gasp of pain from her, and she felt a few of her ribs crack. The alu slid limply down the column and into the water.
The dragon swam to her, his head barely out of the water, only his eyes and the top of his snout visible. As he drew close, he rose a bit and spoke again.
"Are you going to answer me, puny thing? What brings you here, to my private sanctum? Tell me, or I will devour you."
Aliisza blinked and tried to gather her breath. She could barely muster the strength to stay afloat, but she turned and began to swim away. Every stroke sent shooting pains through her midsection. She quaked but did not look back.
The storm dragon sighed. "Very well," he said. "I warned you."
Aliisza screamed as the huge wyrm pounced on her. The beast's jaws engulfed the alu and clamped closed around her, leaving her in utter darkness. The force of the
strike gathered water into the creature's mouth along with her, and she slipped beneath the surface of it. She tried to flail about, to pull her head into air, but the dragon's tongue was drawing her down, toward its throat. It was swallowing her alive.
No! Aliisza silently screamed. Let me out! Oh, please, Tauran, find me!
The alu tried to claw her way to the front of the dragon's mouth, but contracting muscle all around her forced her the other way. Flailing in panic, Aliisza inexorably slipped into the storm dragon's innards.
A sense of dread and finality crashed over her, and she began to black out.
No! she thought, remembering, fighting the hysteria that gripped her. She glided to a stop and smelled the horrible, burning odor of the dragon's digestive acids all around her. There is a way out!
Aliisza held her breath 'and kept her eyes clamped firmly shut as she fumbled for the flask she had tucked away. Frenzied horror left her shaking, nearly unable to work. When her hands closed on the container, she yanked it free.
Grasping the stopper, she opened the flask and dug the mushrooms out with her fingers. She scrabbled to get hold of the top one, but she had packed them in so tightly that she had difficulty catching hold.
Idiot! she cursed herself. Too many!
Finally, as her lungs were beginning to ache, the first few mushrooms slipped into her hand. A tiny spark of hope kept her going. She upended the flask and felt more of the fungus drop into her palm. She flung the mushrooms everywhere in that absolute, engulfing darkness.
Finished, Aliisza tossed the flask away and felt around, frantic to find her way out. Her lungs burned with the need
to breathe. She couldn't hold on much longer.
The wyrm lurched and Aliisza pitched backward, falling. She bumped against something that did not feel like spongy stomach. It felt like... cloth. And a belt. Someone else was inside the dragon with her.
Kaanyr.
Or Zasian. Maybe both of them.
Do something! she wanted to scream. Spots began to swim before her blind eyes, and the blood pounding in her ears was growing deafening. Everything burned. Her skin was on fire. Perhaps she hadn't brought enough mushrooms.
She was going to die.
The dragon lurched and Aliisza heard a great gurgle all around her. Then, suddenly, she felt the stinging flesh of the creature's stomach press in on her, tighten around her.
She opened her mouth, no longer able to hold her breath, and sucked in a lungful of foul odor and searing liquid. She gagged and fought not to breathe again, but her body was no longer under her own control.
She shot forward, her body gliding through a tunnel like a snail being squirted from its shell. She rushed onward and in the next instant felt a blast of cool mist on her burned skin. She shuddered and sucked in welcome air as she hurtled through it. She hit water with a jolting splash and the burning acid washed free.
Aliisza sank beneath the water, vigorously scrubbing the acid from her face. She needed more air. She shoved against the water and surfaced.
Gulping pure, fresh air was the most joy the alu had experienced in a long time.
When she could breathe again, she opened her eyes. The dragon writhed before her, as though in agony. He shook and jerked, regurgitated. A form flew from his mouth, along with
a spray of mushroom bits. The figure splashed into the water near Aliisza.
It was Kaanyr.
The dragon roared and spun away, still twitching. He dived into the water and vanished, and Aliisza felt the fear again of not knowing where he was. She wanted to swim to shore, but she had no idea where that might be. Instead, she began stroking through the water toward Kaanyr.
The cambion thrashed and coughed in the water. Aliisza drew up just out of his reach and watched him flail. She did not want him to grab her and drag her under in his panic. Finally, he grew calmer and began breathing normally.
He opened one eye and peered around. He spotted Aliisza and both eyes flew open wide.
"Who in the Nine Hells ate you?" he demanded. "Where's Zasian? Where's Aliisza?"
Remembering her altered form, the alu smirked. "You're looking at her," she said, the unfamiliar and masculine tone still strange in her ears. "It's me, you wretch."
Kaanyr peered at Kael's face for a long time, wary. "Aliisza?" he asked. "Why do you look like a drow?"
The alu shook her head. She wasn't sure how to explain to Kaanyr that she had given birth to another lover's son. "Long story," she said. "I'll explain later. We have to get out of the water before that storm dragon returns."
"Where's Zasian?" Kaanyr asked again. "Did he make it out?"
"Oh, yes," a booming voice said, echoing through the mist. It was that of the storm dragon. "I did, indeed."
Aliisza spun in the water, looking for the creature. Kaanyr spotted it first. The great wyrm was floating behind the alu, with only his head above the surface. His glare sent a chill down the alu's spine.
"Thank you so much for the timely rescue, Aliisza," the dragon said. "You shaved it very close."
"Zasian?" Kaanyr asked. "Is that you? What happened?"
"No, it's a trick," Aliisza muttered. "I fooled it with the mushrooms, and it's trying to gain revenge."
"Yes, Vhok it's me. I am one with this beast for now. We made it through. Or rather, I made it through. You two merely helped. Thank you for all your assistance, but now our ways must part. I have things to do, and you two must remain here."
"I don't—" Kaanyr began, but Aliisza understood.
"Dive!" she screamed. "Get away from it!" She spun and tried to submerge, but with her broken ribs, she wasn't fast enough. Kaanyr was too confused to react at all.
A tingling struck Aliisza then, a wave of energy that overwhelmed her. Every nerve in her body seemed to overload with sensation, crackle with agony. The alu screamed and went rigid, then sank below the surface of the water.
As she slid downward, vanishing into the murky blackness, she lost consciousness.
Aliisza opened her eyes, and stared up at Tauran's face. The angel stood over her, a worried look on his mien. The alu noticed that he was disheveled, his clothing torn, and a bloody gash crossed his chest. Beyond him, she saw the night sky, and she could hear the muted rumblings of thunder. She was still in the storm dragon's lair.
Kael stood beside the angel, staring down with his garnet eyes. Aliisza was in her own body, and it took a moment for the alu to understand. She gazed at her son, getting a closer look at his face for the very first time. His eyes showed an intelligence that reminded her of Pharaun.
They also revealed a deep sadness.
He knows what I did to him, Aliisza realized. Then another thought swept through her: Why am I not dead, drowned? Kaanyr!
The alu sat bolt upright. Her head pounded with the sudden motion.
"Easy," Tauran said, helping her. "You need some time. Switching between bodies can exhaust you."
"Kaanyr," she mumbled, feeling as weak as the angel suggested. "Where—?" She looked around and spotted the cambion lying near her. "Is he—?" she asked.
"He'll live," Tauran said, and she could hear the sternness in his voice.
Aliisza sighed and leaned back. She wondered what the point was. Surely after her betrayal, Tauran would deliver final justice to both of them.
"What happens now?" she asked, gazing wearily at the deva. "What are you going to do with us?" She drew a deep breath, steeling herself for his answer. "Why save us if you only intend to put us to death?" she whispered.
Tauran said nothing for a moment, but a faint grimace crossed his face.
Aliisza stared hard at him. "What? What happened?"
"Your third companion," the angel said. "The priest."
"Zasian," Aliisza answered, feeling rage suffuse her. "The Banite. He used us to come here. He betrayed us."
"Yes. Zasian. But not a servant of Bane." The angel looked away, and for the very first time, Aliisza saw real fear and doubt on his face. "Zasian serves Cyric," Tauran explained. He looked back at Aliisza and his gaze filled her with dread.
"I need your help," he pleaded.