The demon's howls shivered the air.
Iveron grinned in triumph, panting from his exertions, and glanced about. Many of his minions lay dead, but he spared only a moment to consider how the dwarf and woman had escaped from their manacles. He would summon additional troops to finish off these troublesome prisoners. Then he would replace the fallen gem and move Cannoth back into the circle.
His plan could still be salvaged, and victory would be his.
Shay watched the mayhem from his position against a wall, safe in his invisibility. His companions not only held their own, they were steadily depleting the enemy forces. He turned to the real dangers in the room: Darkmist and the demon. He and his friends were no match for these two allied, but to defeat one alone might be possible. And right now the balance of power had shifted toward Iveron Darkmist.
The half-elf crept up behind the Nekdukarr. Breathing deeply, knowing that this would be his last unseen act, he swung his dwarf-forged war hammer into Iveron Darkmist's shoulder with numbing force, shattering the armor plate and cracking the bone underneath. The Nekdukarr sprawled with the impact, his helm grating along the silver runes as he slid to a stop within his own circle of power. The spell of containment failed; Cannoth was free.
Pain and shock vied with disbelief in Iveron’s mind as he looked up to see his caged Fargmir free once again. What had happened? Who had attacked him? Glancing around, he saw a bearded elf standing near the circle’s focal point. Was this a new demon summoned by Cannoth? He watched warily as the Fargmir glanced at the newcomer, but there was no recognition in the exchange. Regardless, Iveron now had two opponents, he had no weapon, and he was injured; he would have to rely on magic to regain the upper hand here. As if gifted by The Deathless One himself, a blue glow caught his eye; the fallen sapphire lay at hand.
Taking advantage of the Cannoth’s momentary distraction, he struggled to his feet and snatched up the gem. Cradling it in his injured arm, he drew a crystal shard from his belt with his good hand. Too late; Cannoth whirled to attack.
A thunderous crack sounded, and Iveron snapped his head around to see lightning crackle from the hand of the bearded elf to strike Cannoth. The blast gouged the demon’s muscular torso, not halting its charge, but at least ruining its aim.
Who in the Nine Hells is this? Iveron thought wildly as he ducked under the axe. And where— An image flashed into his mind of lying injured, the tribesman's broken sword in his leg, a tall woman with an enchanted blade racing toward him across the bridge, and two figures behind her; one, a bearded elf. His bewilderment doubled; he had just been saved by one of the very thieves he had sought for weeks.
Cannoth’s deafening yell snapped his reverie. Iveron cast another spell. Rainbow motes of magical energy raked Cannoth’s flesh, and the demon reared back in pain and anger.
Iveron reveled in the power of the gem he clutched; it augmented every spell he cast, and right now, facing an enraged Fargmir and possibly a second opponent, he needed the advantage.
The bearded elf confused him. Why would he first assault Iveron, then turn his attacks to Cannoth? No matter; he apparently was here to save his companions, and believed the demon to be their greatest threat. The Nekdukarr nearly laughed. Let him believe what he would, he would find out soon enough that Lord-General Iveron Darkmist, chosen one of Mortas, was the true power in the room. But perhaps he could use this odd behavior to his advantage.
"Cannoth!" Iveron called out. "These surface rabble seek to destroy us both! Join me as an equal partner in my conquest of their world, and I will rescind my demand of service. We only risk death by opposing one another now."
"I serve none but Mortas!" Cannoth howled, hefting the huge black axe again.
Shay crouched defensively, eying both the Nekdukarr and the demon. His plan had been to lash out at whoever had the upper hand in this confrontation, prolonging their fight until one was dead and the other so weakened he could be more easily defeated. But Iveron's actions suggested a new strategy. The half-elf hefted his hammer and adjusted his footing, shifting discretely toward the closest pedestal, which held the ruby.
Cannoth made to strike at Iveron, then shifted and leapt at Shay. The smoldering black axe arced at the half-elf's head, but his hammer met it perfectly. The powers of Necrol and Earth collided, shaking Zellohar to its roots; both weapons rebounded with numbing force. Shay lost his grip on the hammer and heard it slam into the wall behind him; Cannoth's weapon simply vanished, but the demon now towered over him, reaching for his throat. The intense evil emanating from the demon lord nearly overpowered Shay, but he ducked under the grasping hand and fumbled for his holy medallion, reciting a quick prayer to Tem. Cannoth lunged, huge jaws gaping wide as Shay thrust his medallion forward. A stark white light hit the demon’s muzzle, repelling the black fangs like a solid wall.
Iveron watched Cannoth recoil from the divine light, howling in rage. The black axe reappeared in the demon lord's hand, and he swung it once again at the bearded elf's head. He considered letting the demon finish off the unpredictable—wizard? priest?—but this new opponent kept the Fargmir distracted, allowing Iveron to prepare his spells almost at leisure. He gestured, and a dozen magical vipers sprang up at Cannoth’s feet, entwining the demon's limbs and plunge their fangs into his flesh, allowing the bearded elf to evade the Fargmir.
With the sapphire enhancing his spells, he would wear the demon down, then use the might of the gems to bind it again. He would not—could not—fail; Cannoth would serve him until his conquest of the surface world was complete.
“Neither you, demon, nor anyone else, will deny me my victory!” he rasped.
His broken arm burned with pain, but he ignored it. In his palm was the sapphire, oval and smooth and slightly warm; the gems were the key. He was a paladin of Mortas, and the master of the cornerstones. He had waited too long, endured too much, to fail now. He would take the Darkmist seat on the council for his own, and perhaps even the mediatorship! And his sisters... Well, he would tolerate their deceit no longer. His sisters—
Cannoth ripped free of the vipers and strode toward him, disrupting his thoughts of revenge, the great black axe held at the ready for a killing blow. Iveron tightened his grip on the sapphire and raised a shimmering shield before him.
A breeze stirred the air, cooling the battle-heat on his cheek and disturbing his thoughts, but was quickly forgotten when the demon lord's axe impacted upon the protective shield with a deafening blow. Brushing aside a distracting wisp of inky mist, Darkmist gauged Cannoth’s condition and readied another spell, one that would send every fallen weapon in the room flying right at the preoccupied demon's back. But he had to wait for exactly the right moment to—
“Iveron!”
Shay’s robes fluttered in an incongruous breeze as he edged toward the ruby. The hairs on his neck stood on end as a dark zephyr swirled past, catching his attention; something felt wrong. There should be no winds blowing here, and the dark wisps of mist were not smoke. He stared in astonishment as the mists swirled and coalesced into two pale, ebon-haired and fully armored women.
"Iveron!" one of them shouted, her voice easily rising over the din of melee.
The effect on Iveron Darkmist was profound; he stopped in mid-spellcast and stared, then... smiled. It seemed as if the Nekdukarr were about to say something when the shimmering wall before him dissolved and Cannoth lunged to the attack. But before the demon's weapon even rose to strike, the second woman spoke a clear, powerful chant in a harsh language unknown to Shay, and gestured as if pushing the demon back.
Shay staggered with the power of the invocation, and watched in awe as the demon was hurled back and pinned against the wall. As it howled in unsated rage, wisps of essence writhed from its body. Its substance thinned, then faded to nothing. Cannoth had been banished back to Necrol.
Shay shivered with relief at the demon lord’s departure, but the respite was short-lived. While they might have lost one foe, they had apparently gained
two more. The women obviously wielded potent magic. They also gripped fell weapons: a death's head mace with glowing red eyes for one, and a spiked flail that writhed like angry vipers for the other. But their attention was firmly fixed on the Nekdukarr, and his upon them.
Shay risked a few more careful steps toward his goal.
They’re here? Iveron thought in wonder as he responded to the call of his name. My sisters have finally come to aid me in my conquest!
Forgotten were his malicious thoughts of revenge. The might of Clan Darkmist was reunited; blood ties had won out over their allegiance to the council. With a Fargmir and the clan under his command, no city above or below could hope to withstand him.
Before he could say a word, an invocation of incredible power flowed from Lysethra's lips, and she gestured toward Cannoth. Iveron recognized the motion—banishment. He turned toward the demon lord... in time to see him fade away.
Shock flooded his mind. All his decades of planning and study, all his months of preparation, his entire scheme for conquest of the surface world, undone in an instant. His shoulders slumped, the movement sending knives of agony through his broken arm. He winced, then looked down at the gem in his palm. The cornerstones were still his; the power was his.
The shock and disillusionment was swept aside by an overwhelming rage. His sisters had not come to join him, but to stop him! They had banished his secret weapon and would now try to usurp his power, as they had always done. He was being betrayed, cast down by his own kin.
He would not allow it!
"How dare you!" Iveron bellowed, whirling toward his sisters. Hatred welled in him until everything else in the room, all save his treacherous siblings, faded from his sight. "You had no right to interfere!" he raved at them, the razor-sharp edge of his rage fraying the last taut strings of his sanity.
"We had every right, Iveron!" Lysethra countered, even as she stepped back from his rage and glanced nervously at Calmarel. "You gave us no choice! The mediator insisted that you be stopped."
"Lies! All you do is lie to me!" Iveron felt like he was blazing with the fires from Hades itself. "I won't let you lie to me anymore!" He held out the glowing sapphire with his injured arm, immune to the agony of the grating ends of his broken bones. Never had he felt so betrayed. Never had he felt so powerful.
"I'll blast us all to the Nine Hells before I let you lie again!" he screamed, as crimson light flared to the eyes of his demon helm.
Shay understood none of the quarrel between Darkmist and the newcomers, but its intensity alarmed him. The Nekdukarr spat his fury between lips that curled back from his teeth like those of a rabid cur. He doubted that even a hint of reason remained behind those wide, pupilless eyes. Now the paladin of Mortas held the sapphire cornerstone out before him, and Shay knew he had to act.
The half-elf seized the ruby. He could see Darkmist's sanity crumbling; who knew what devastation the Nekdukarr could wreak if he directed a destructive spell into the cornerstone. Shay had only one option, and he didn’t hesitate.
"Iveron!" Shay barked urgently, repeating the name the woman had called out, and silently praying to Tem that he had not misread the circumstances.
Iveron turned at the sound of his name, and there was bewilderment in his mien, then a fleeting expression of hope. This told Shay all he needed to know. His actions in the fight against Cannoth led Darkmist to think that he might aid him against these new intruders.
Shay tossed the ruby cornerstone. It traced a graceful, glittering arc through the air, and Darkmist caught it deftly with his free hand. The Nekdukarr looked down at the ruby in his one hand, then at the sapphire in his other. Comprehension came too late, as streams of blue and red energy arced across his chest.
The demon helm resting on Darkmist’s pale brow suddenly screamed and flapped its metal wings as it tried to tear itself free of its condemned master. Scoured and bleeding patches of bare skull shone where it peeled itself away, too late.
With a flash of light and a tinkling like wind chimes, Lord-General Iveron Darkmist, Nekdukarr, paladin of Mortas, was no more.
CHAPTER 41
Lysethra stared at the spot where her brother had just stood, her sister shock-still beside her. Was this a trick, or was he actually... gone? From the horrified look on Iveron’s face at the last moment, she deduced the latter.
Glancing around the room, she saw a tall woman warrior running through a dying waglok with an obviously enchanted greatsword; a dwarf bashing the last orc over the head with a brazier; an elf woman, curiously naked, wiping blood from her mouth and hands; and the bearded elf, a priest from the look of him, who had destroyed her brother.
These had to be the “thieves” that her brother had sought; it seemed that he had underestimated them.
Warily, she shifted her stance to face the priest. His actions had eliminated their brother; as such, he was an unknown and potentially powerful threat. Calmarel tensed beside her, tightening her grip on her flail, but Lysethra put out a forestalling hand. They needed to reassess this situation.
Only two steps before them lay the sapphire and ruby that Iveron had held, innocent in their beauty yet unspeakably powerful. She reached a quick decision and gestured to Calmarel.
Swiftly, the two sisters each stooped and swept a gem into a robe pocket. Their deed was echoed by the priest and the dwarf, who snatched the remaining two gems off their pedestals.
They all stood and stared at one another for a long, uncomfortable moment. With the power of these gems split evenly between the two potentially warring factions, Lysethra deemed it wise to employ a diplomatic solution, rather than a violent one.
"Our brother was acting without the support of his clan or the leaders of our people," she said. "He was relying solely on the power of these gems and Cannoth to conquer your world."
From the blanks looks on their faces, she surmised that none of them understood the language of the Dark Gods. Raising a forestalling hand, she quickly recited a prayer of elucidation and repeated her message.
"You are his sister?" the priest asked incredulously.
"Sisters," Calmarel corrected in a haughty tone as she lightly swung her writhing flail and reached for her medallion. The act was countered by the tall woman who, eyeing them suspiciously, clutched her glowing greatsword expertly and moved closer.
Lysethra motioned once again for calm.
"We are the matriarchs of Clan Darkmist. It is a pity, but our brother was quite probably insane from his long confinement here. Now that the situation has been rectified, and the cornerstones are divided equally between your world and ours, you need not fear aggression from the nations of the Dark Gods. We would find your world distasteful, even if it were ours as a gift."
"So your people had no part in your brother's plans for war?" the tall woman interrupted, moving from the dead piled around her to stand beside the priest. "I find that hard to believe."
"Nevertheless, it is truth," Lysethra said firmly, confident in her skills for deceit. "Our task here is finished; we will return to our world. We wish you peace and prosperity in your own."
The tall woman suddenly stepped forward, staring at Calmarel. Lysethra motioned to her sister, and with a word of power, they transformed into their namesake, drifting away in a dark mist of ethereal vapor.
"Wait! What is tha—" Avari blurted, but she was too late; the sisters Darkmist were gone. But she thought she had seen... She shook her head, exhaustion finally overwhelming her as she realized that it was over; Darkmist was dead.
In a daze, she looked about the room at all the dead creatures, sacrificed to a mad man’s passion for conquest. Avari shook her head again. She just didn’t understand what drove some people to such thirst for power. She walked over to where Shay was retrieving his hammer.
"You know, I'll never forgive you," she said to her half-elven friend, her voice hard.
"Forgive me? Whatever for?" he asked with a quizzical look on his miraculously unruffled features.
> "For killing Darkmist," she said with scowl. “I'd been looking forward to that pleasure myself, but I got caught up with a few other things." Her solemn mien failed; she grinned and grasped him in a rib-creaking hug.
Lynthalsea approached the two, lacing up her bodice, having found most of her clothing remarkably un-bloodstained, and joined the mutual embrace. DoHeney humphed at the display of affection, but did not unduly resist when Avari reached out and pulled him into the fold.
"Well," Shay said, leaning wearily on his companions, "I'm happy to see everyone relatively hale, because we are very, very deep within Zellohar Keep, and the rest of our former host's army is between us and the exit. Not to mention the fact that the bridge has been collapsed and the maps in the diary show only exits from the uppermost level."
During his speech their smiles died and their faces showed their weariness. They were not through this yet.
Sudden shouts rang out down the hallway, and the companions quickly rearmed themselves and moved to the chamber's exit. As they braced themselves for another long and arduous fight, a flood of screeching orcs raced past the entry to the chamber, paying them no attention whatsoever. From behind the creatures reverberated a familiar roar and an enraged leotaur shot past, sword and dagger drenched in blood, his eyes flashing and his four feet pounding, hot on the orcs' heels.
"I will truly never forget the looks on your faces," Yenjil Thallon repeated for what must have been the twelfth time. "Stumbling down the keep steps, bloodied and exhausted, just as our entire army came clamoring through the main gates to welcome you back to the world of the living."
Firelight danced on his smiling features, warming the mood even more than the lofty blaze that dominated the center of Zellohar Keep's outer courtyard. His hand was firmly entwined with Avari's while they shared their dinner and the tumultuous company of their friends. The companions and several of Thallon's force, including DoHurley, and Kaplan with Mynnx hanging tightly onto his arm, all sat together, sharing the fire's warmth, the copious amounts of food, and each other's company. One of the pack animals had been slaughtered to feed the mass of troops, most of which had settled into the keep's upper level.
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