The Fractured Sky (12 page)

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.