The Fractured Sky

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The Fractured Sky Page 8

by Thomas M. Reid


  On the other, Tauran’s arguments about the extraordinary nature of the circumstances made for compelling testimony. Members of the Triad were arguing, fighting even, and the entire Court seemed paralyzed, unable to come to any consensus on what to do. All the gatherings, all the proceedings—where little more than debate ever occurred—were growing tiring and irksome. The loyal champion of Torm wanted action.

  Even if it means being near her? he asked. As if to answer, Kael felt a strange, uncomfortable sense of curiosity invade his thoughts. He did want to be near her. Why? he wondered, struggling to understand such strange emotions. You have Tauran already. What else do you need? Kael thought again of Aliisza risking herself to save those two children. Would she have done that for me? a tiny part of him wondered. No, he decided, trying to push that thought away. You only want her near to prove to yourself once and for all that she was the uncaring fiend you’ve always imagined, he scolded himself. And you cannot let that jeopardize Tauran’s plans. You have duties.

  Still, the image of his mother lingered.

  “Here is my fear in all this,” the High Councilor said at last. “That you—and we—are being manipulated by these fiends in ways that we do not yet understand, and we will be filled with regret when we do, when it’s too late. You yourself have admitted to such once already, the second time you stood before us, after the alu escaped your custody.”

  Several murmurs of agreement arose from the other Councilors gathered there. Kael scanned them all, studied their faces, and saw nothing but grim countenances and disapproval. They reflected Kael’s own suspicions. Vhok, Aliisza, and Zasian had pulled off a most extraordinary trick in order to breach the House’s defenses.

  “I have little doubt that you believe you are fit to repulse such subterfuge,” the High Councilor continued, “but these beings—these invaders—are clever. Even now, they may be continuing a plot they hatched long ago, designed to take advantage of your willingness to give them leeway. It is in our nature to offer forgiveness, redemption. Such generosity, though natural and good, can be taken advantage of.”

  “I am well aware of the risks, Councilor,” Tauran answered, staring down at the polished stones of the floor. “But I am also well aware of Vhok’s and Aliisza’s motivations. I, perhaps better than you, know what they want, what they seek. Not what they claim to want, but what they truly desire. I, unlike you, am in the field, confronting such beings. I deal with them, know their cunning firsthand. I have already used such knowledge to gain their cooperation. It will aid me in keeping my wits going forward, I assure you.”

  The Councilors stirred, shifting or murmuring among themselves, but none of them confronted Tauran on that point.

  Kael nodded slightly to himself. Yes, he thought. We can use them to our advantage, instead of the other way around.

  “Perhaps you’d care to explain how you knew right where to find the half-fiends?” came a voice from behind the pair of them.

  Kael recognized the voice before he even turned around. He closed his eyes and stifled a groan. No! he fretted. Tauran almost had them won over. Why now?

  “Micus,” Tauran said, turning to face the newcomer. “What are you doing here?”

  “Making certain the Council knows all the facts about your theories, Tauran. They need to understand just how erratically you’ve been behaving of late. I’m here to make sure they do.”

  “Micus, I already told you, we—”

  “Tell them,” the other deva interrupted, pointing at the members of the Council. “They are the ones you need to convince. I have already made up my mind.”

  Tauran stared at his friend for a long moment. It seemed to Kael that he debated something, but whatever was on the angel’s mind, he did not share it. Instead, he turned back to face the members of the Council. They all remained silent, waiting expectantly.

  “As you are well aware,” the deva began, “it’s been more than a decade since we—since I—lost track of Aliisza the alu. Her escape was remarkable, leaving her son, Kael, trapped in her body for the duration. He managed to adapt, learning to use her body’s innate magic in order to alter his physical form to his own, more familiar guise. Despite his heritage, you all know him now as a devout and loyal servant of Torm, a champion in combat, and a noble companion.”

  The angel paused and looked over at Kael, who only nodded once in appreciation. Privately, though, the half-drow beamed. It had been a profound struggle to learn to exist in another’s body, a half-fiend’s body, and he was pleased with himself, just a little, not only that he had succeeded, but that others had noticed.

  Tauran continued. “For reasons that neither of us can explain as of yet, Kael experienced an odd sensation earlier this day, a sudden and strange connection with his mother. Whether that link was due to their blood relationship to one another or some astral bond between Aliisza and her body—or perhaps both—it was strong enough and focused enough that Kael was convinced he knew where she was. The pair of us set out at once to locate her.”

  At that point, the Councilors began murmuring among themselves again. Tauran waited patiently while they absorbed what he had described, but Kael glanced over at Micus, who frowned.

  “Is this as Tauran has described?” the High Councilor asked, and it took Kael another moment before he realized the solar was speaking to him.

  He blinked, trying to find his voice. The solars had never called on him before.

  “Yes, High Councilor,” the half-drow replied. “I have no explanation for it, but it was unmistakable, and the sensation led me unerringly to her.” He looked at Micus and asked, “Is that so hard to accept?”

  The scowling deva shook his head. “Only in that it seems less plausible than the prospect that you two have known where Aliisza was all along and merely went to join her at an appointed time and place.”

  Kael gaped at Micus while the chamber erupted in a dizzying cacophony of incredulous debate. To the half-drow, it seemed as though half the Councilors argued for an immediate investigation into Tauran’s activities while the other half decried his unfair persecution. Tauran said nothing, but he, too, turned to look at his old friend with a sorrowful expression.

  When the High Councilor had at last restored quiet, he turned back to Micus. “Please provide some evidence for your accusations, Micus.”

  Micus bowed his head, as if the words he was about to impart pained him greatly. “Before I proceed, let me be blunt. It brings me no pleasure to disclose these points. Tauran is my friend, and I have observed him on countless occasions carrying out his duties with both supreme devotion and suitable aplomb. His energy seemed tireless, his dedication unquestionable.”

  Then why are you turning on him, you backstabbing bastard? Kael wondered.

  “But that merely makes his recent erratic behavior all the more noticeable,” Micus continued. “I have observed, to my great chagrin, that Tauran has begun to question many of his values, as well as those of the House. He has chosen courses of action that fly in the face of our established procedures and policies. He has enabled the criminal activity of intruders into our realm through both dubious deed and cowardly inaction. In short, I fear that his morality has been compromised, and he has thrown in with these half-fiends he purports to supervise. For what purpose, I do not know, but I fear my friend has turned.”

  More murmuring arose, but the High Councilor silenced them quickly. “Please proceed with your evidence, Micus,” the solar instructed.

  Micus nodded. “Of course. In addition to this questionable explanation of how Tauran and Kael came to find the alu and this new intruder—this cambion—I submit Tauran’s insistence of late on debating the merits of Tyr’s righteousness in the conflict with Helm.”

  A few murmurs of disapproval issued from the Council. Kael wasn’t certain whether they were directed at Micus or at what Micus had said.

  “Tauran has called into question Tyr’s wisdom. I have listened to him say it.”

  Kael couldn
’t stand how Micus was skewing Tauran’s words. He stepped forward. “He only insists that Helm must have very good reasons for his side of the debate, and that we should reserve our judgment until the two gods have settled their feud. Esteemed Councilors, examining every side of an argument with an open mind is a far cry from conspiracy against the House.”

  For once, no sound at all issued from within the chamber. All sets of golden eyes had turned to stare coldly at the half-drow, their displeasure plain. But Kael refused to back down. He stared back, waiting for someone, anyone, to challenge the point. In the background, muted thunder rumbled again, and the floor vibrated with it.

  “I’m sorry, Councilors, forgive his impudence,” Micus said. “Kael is as loyal and devout a student as any deva could ask for, but his allegiance calls his neutrality into question. His perspective on this issue wavers from the truth considerably.”

  Kael seethed and opened his mouth to argue further, but Tauran placed a restraining hand on the half-drow’s arm. When Kael caught his mentor’s glance, the angel shook his head almost imperceptibly. You’re not helping, was the message. Kael sighed and nodded, and Tauran released his grip.

  The High Councilor spoke. “Your accusations are grave, Micus, and despite his impudence, Kael is correct. Engaging in such debate is not a crime against Tyr’s law. I hope you have something more substantial to tell us to back up your claims.”

  Micus frowned, and Kael had to clench his jaw to keep from grinning at the angel.

  “Of course, High Councilor. What I intend to submit next brings me no joy to share. In fact, it shames me to admit. But I truly want only to ensure that Tauran cannot deceive you—if that is in fact his intention—and to avert his own ruination.” The other angel turned to look directly at his counterpart. His next words were clearly intended for his fellow deva. “Despite what he must think, I seek only to save him from himself and bring him back into Tyr’s embrace. If I am proven incorrect, and Tauran has engaged in no real wrongdoing, then I will beg his—and this Council’s—forgiveness.”

  A long moment of silence stretched out as the two angels studied one another. Finally, Kael saw Tauran nod, just once, the tiniest bit. An acknowledgment of his continued friendship, the half-drow supposed.

  He has more charity than I, Kael thought. I couldn’t be quite so generous after such a besmirching.

  Micus nodded. “I overheard a conversation today,” he said, “between Tauran and a servant of Helm.”

  Tauran gasped, and Kael jerked his eyes in the angel’s direction. Tauran stared at Micus with a look of both dismay and betrayal. “You spied on me?”

  Micus ignored him. “As you can see, he does not deny it. Yes, I enlisted the assistance of a lantern archon today, and I heard, with my own ears, Tauran suggest that Tyr’s judgment in certain matters pertaining to the membership of the Triad is questionable, and that perhaps he is unfit to dispense a ruling on the matter. Tauran has actually claimed that Helm might be correct in challenging the Maimed One.”

  More murmuring issued from the Council, but the High Councilor silenced it with a loud query. “What say you to these charges, Tauran?”

  The angel stepped forward, peering up in the direction of the solar. “I don’t deny it,” he said without a hint of shame or regret. “I do believe that Tyr’s wisdom has failed him.”

  The murmuring returned and rose in volume to outright dismay.

  “And this,” Tauran continued, “is why I believe we desperately need the half-fiends’ help.” The noise level increased. Tauran raised his hands, asking for patience. “This destructive argument that roils throughout our home, this bitter feud between beloved Tyr and noble Helm”—more than one solar frowned at that appellation—“is not the conduct suited to two benevolent and wise deities.”

  The murmuring grew louder, and one Councilor rose to her feet, incensed at the deva’s words. “You overstep your bounds, Tauran!” she shouted. “It is not your place to presume to know the wisdom of Tyr!”

  “Perhaps,” Tauran countered, raising his own voice to be heard, “but no one else seems willing to question these events. I believe this crass debate has been contrived, engineered by those who would see the House brought low.”

  Even more dissent filled the chamber as the members of the Council all began talking at once. Kael sensed the anger in their demeanors, and it shocked him to see the stoic solars, always inscrutable, exhibiting such passion.

  They are frightened, he realized. What could scare a solar? he wondered, growing more uneasy with each passing moment.

  A particularly deep and rumbling disturbance shook the chamber. The champion of Torm had to take a step to steady himself as the floor pitched. He saw the much more graceful angels spread their wings to compensate for the undulating foundations. The rumble subsided, and with it, the solars’ berating of Tauran.

  See? Kael wanted to shout. That’s what scares you. You know he speaks the truth.

  “I sense some malevolent manipulation behind this”—Tauran paused, waving one hand vaguely around himself—“this furious dispute between them. Whatever their disagreement—and I do not profess to understand the ways of the gods—but whatever their disagreement, it strikes me as unduly vehement and bitter. This is not the behavior of the immortals I have served. Furthermore, our disparaging treatment of Helm’s loyal servants is not in keeping with what I know in my heart to be just and fair. The same holds true, I suspect, for you. It is not who we are, Councilors.” The deva scanned the room once, locking gazes with each member of the Council, before he proceeded. “I witnessed events today that have convinced me that Cyric has a hand in Tyr and Helm’s disagreement. I think Vhok and Aliisza were unwittingly caught up in the Liar’s machinations, and they can help me find out if I’m right.”

  “No!” shouted one of the solars.

  “The impertinence!” yelled another.

  Kael could not remember a time when he had witnessed the powerful creatures in such emotional disarray. They clearly found the entire prospect of their own god stumbling in his judgment too much to bear. For the first time, he feared what they might do to Tauran to counteract their own uncertainty.

  “Blasphemy!” Micus shouted. “He is unfit for his station! He has fallen in league with fiends and aims to assist them in a foul plot!”

  Kael took a single step toward Micus, his face a snarl of hatred. He’s been your friend forever! the half-drow thought. How dare you smear his name, you bastard! You don’t deserve his friendship.

  Micus saw the movement and gestured. “As you can see,” he said, raising his voice to be heard, “even his pupil has been tainted. It pains me to see, but what should we expect from the offspring of such dubious stock? Tauran has failed in that effort, too.”

  There was more outrage among the Council, but Kael could barely hear it. He was too busy fighting to get past Tauran to reach Micus. He didn’t remember drawing his weapon, but somehow the sword was in his hands.

  Tauran held Kael by one arm, straining to keep the half-drow from striking the other angel. “Control yourself!” he shouted. “You do us no favors by unleashing your wrath!”

  Micus stood a few paces back, on the balls of his feet, as though prepared to combat the champion of Torm should he manage to break free from Tauran’s grasp. His expression was one of grim regret.

  The chamber continued its uproar.

  Kael finally relinquished and stared at the floor, shamed. Tauran was right; his own actions were just as much of a betrayal as anything Micus had concocted. “Forgive me, Tauran,” he murmured.

  The deva made a faint gesture of dismissal. We’ll speak of it later, was the message.

  The High Councilor called for quiet once more, but it took him shouting, “Silence!” in a thunderous, commanding tone before all became calm again.

  “In light of the evidence,” the High Councilor said in a tone that suggested he would brook no further outbursts, “coupled with my own grave concerns about the in
tentions of these fiends in our midst, you are hereby ordered to your quarters until further notice, while an inquiry is launched into your behavior. That applies to both of you,” he added, pointing to Kael.

  The half-drow bowed his head, remorse filling him, both at his own improper actions in the face of the Council and at their knee-jerk reactions.

  “And what of Aliisza and Vhok?” Tauran asked, his tone neutral. “What is to become of them?”

  Kael could hardly imagine the effort it took his mentor to remain so calm in the face of such betrayal.

  “They are intruders, High Councilor,” Micus argued. “Both of them. Aliisza violated the terms of her stay with us when she fled in her son’s body, and her efforts to assist Vhok’s intrusion condemns her equally.”

  “Indeed,” the solar said. “For now they will be required to remain under guard, until this inquiry can sort everything out. I put you in charge of their care, Micus. Make certain that they do not—”

  Kael was knocked from his feet as the hemispherical chamber lurched violently to one side. He stumbled to his knees and slid across the rapidly tilting floor. He heard the concerned shouts of the angels, deva and solar alike, all around him. The half-drow righted himself and took to the air, using the magic of his winged boots.

  The chamber shook again, and a great, deafening peal of cracking stone pulsed through it. Kael clamped his hands over his ears and peered around, seeking the source of the noise. The majority of the white, glowing dome had shattered overhead. A multitude of jagged shards of the strange, glassy material rained down upon the occupants. Lashing wind howled through the opening and whipped the myriad fragments around in a deadly storm.

  Kael flinched away and hid his face. He prayed to Torm that his armor would shield him from the worst of the flying debris. The half-drow felt the shards pelt him, crashing against the metal outfit. The sound was horrendous, a cacophony of tinkling and breaking, like poorly made chimes. The swirling material stung every bit of exposed flesh.

 

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