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 right direction.
Kashada knelt down next to the half-hobgoblin to discuss their plan. "Remember," the mystic said as they rose and prepared to separate, "our signal must be strong so that Tekthyrios will hear it. But do not get too caught up in the fight. The idea is to fool them and send them running about in confusion, not go toe to toe with them. Understand?"
Myshik's red eyes squinted at her and he smirked. "I am not a fool," he said sourly. "The cunning as well as the strength of a dragon flows through my veins. I know my purpose."
Kashada smiled, though she knew the barbarian could not see it behind her veil. "Very well," she said. "See you on the other side." She turned to go then, stepping lightly through the undergrowth and leaving the half-dragon to carry out his own part of the scheme.
Kashada kept the voices to her right as she circled around to the left. She wished that Zasian had been willing to wait until nightfall to conduct their plan. So many more shadows to work with. He's waited twelve years for this, she thought. What's the hurry now?
A few more steps carried Kashada to a low ridge. Beyond it, on the far side of a trail winding through the woods, a trio of figures rested upon a fallen log. She noted their slender, coppery features and woodland clothing and nodded in satisfaction. Elves.
A patrol, she decided, and far from home.
They sat huddled in discussion, but she noted that they kept a vigilant eye on each direction of the trail. Though they sat, they held their postures erect, wary. They were watching their surroundings carefully.
A bit spooked, are we? Kashada thought. This will be fun.
The shadow-mystic studied the environs near the three elves and selected an area of gloom directly beneath them, where the shadow of the log against the ground was deepest. She focused her mind and let her fingers dance a delicate pattern in the air. She felt the energy of her magic connect with the shadow and watched as it began to move.
The shadow wriggled and expanded. It grew darker and spread.
One of the elves noticed the effect and gave a startled shout. The three of them leaped from their seats and backed away.
The shadow rose from the ground, deepening until it had become black as midnight. It changed shape and divided until four blobs of darkness separated themselves from one another. The blobs lengthened and crouched as the three elf scouts pulled their swords free and went into defensive stances. One of them put a horn to his lips and blew a long, plaintive note.
Calling for reinforcements, Kashada realized. Good. Myshik is bound to hear that. Can Zasian?
The blobs became feline in shape, lithe hunting cats on the prowl. One of the unearthly beasts let out a yowl, a haunting cry that made the three elves shiver.
One of the scouts lunged at the shadow-cat closest to it, but the magical beast shifted to the side, dodging the blow. The cat leaped at its attacker as if it were pouncing on a rabbit.
The elf screamed and fell back as the shadow engulfed him. The other cats rushed at his companions. The group became a swarming, chaotic fracas. Snarling cats tumbled, bit, and raked at the elves while the scouts frantically sliced back at them.
Kashada waited and watched, listening to the raucous sounds of battle.
A shout from her left caught the mystic's attention. She glanced in that direction and spied four more elf scouts rushing through the forest, following the trail. They reached their beset brethren and joined the fight.
Excellent, Kashada thought, and she crept away, moving to swing wide of the elves' position and get around them, heading toward the cave where she and Myshik were to meet Zasian.
She reached a point where she was certain she was out of sight of the roiling fight behind her and started walking faster. She had taken perhaps half a dozen steps when a figure popped into view directly ahead of her.
Like the others, the figure had pointed ears, angular features, and a slender build, but unlike them, she wore a delicate set of plate mail and stood with a noble bearing. A radiant aura surrounded her. Kashada squinted at the bright light and faltered to a stop.
"What trouble are you causing in my woods, witch?" the woman asked, brandishing an incandescent sword.
Zasian waited for the sign that his two minions had begun their attack. Tekthyrios stirred, struggling against his cerebral bondage again. The effort to keep the dragon's consciousness contained had become almost an afterthought to Zasian. He had mastered the art of it quickly, and despite a few instances of sudden, sneaky efforts to catch him off guard, the storm dragon had ceased trying.
But as he waited, Zasian idly toyed with Tekthyrios, taunting the storm dragon with the knowledge of what was about to happen. When the creature at last understood the priest's plan and his own fate, he began anew the effort to break free of his captivity.
No, Zasian whispered to the dragon. I need your skin a little while longer.
Tekthyrios did not answer, but he continued to hammer at the barrier blocking him from control of his body.
There's nothing you can do about it, Zasian conveyed.
Perhaps, the storm dragon replied, surprising the priest. But you will not escape quite so easily as you think.
Are you certain? Zasian asked. Who will tell them what has become of us? You? What will they do even if they figure it out? Come after us? By the time anyone finds you here, we will be long gone.
Nonetheless, the dragon projected, yours will come due.
I think not, Zasian replied. The Black Sun's plot is unfolding nicely.
And I am safely a part of it, Zasian thought privately.
How many can make that claim? Others may believe they serve the Prince of Lies, but few truly understand the depth and breadth of his schemes. Sooner or later, Cyric's going to succeed at something magnificently terrible. Where better to be standing when the world comes crashing down than at his right hand?
&
nbsp; A shout of alarm in the distance brought Zasian out of his ponderings. The attack had begun.
Time to get to work.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"You did what was necessary," Kael said. His voice echoed within the eerie silence of the storm dragon's temple, along with the faint but steady dripping of water in the distance. "It's the right choice in your heart. That is most important." The holy warrior knelt next to Tauran, who sat cross-legged with his chin resting on his hands, staring at the floor.
"Perhaps," the angel replied, his voice glum. "But I broke Tyr's law. I disregarded the High Council's direct orders. I am a criminal."
Kaanyr, reclining next to Aliisza a short distance from the two, snorted. "Yes, he's the scourge of the cosmos," the cambion said with a chuckle.
"Be quiet," Aliisza scolded. "He turned on his own kind to rescue you from a very unpleasant fate. Whatever else you may think of Tauran, you at least owe him a little gratitude for that."
"I wouldn't be in such a situation in the first place if it weren't for him," Kaanyr replied. "It was his idea to parade us before all the angels in the heavens. What did he think would happen?"
"I don't think he expected them to turn on him," Aliisza said. "He feels betrayed right now." And I know that feeling all too well, the alu silently added.
"Well, he'd better get over this and stop his moping," Kaanyr said. "It won't take Micus and the rest of them long to hunt us down. This isn't a safe place for us to remain."
Aliisza nodded, but she didn't answer. She was thinking about what Tauran had revealed in his plaintive conversation with Micus. He had used the words "tragedy" and "catastrophe." She glanced out at the churning sky beyond the edges of the temple. The clouds around the sacred dwelling of the storm dragon still billowed and tumbled, obscuring her sight, but at least they didn't roil with sickly color and jagged lightning quite as much as before.
Aliisza recalled the fractured sky heaving overhead as they had fled the great marbled city. The whole mountain upon which the Court rested had heaved beneath their feet. Everywhere they ran, the inhabitants were in a panic. She saw many of them crumpled, sobbing, while others merely wore ashen, grim expressions.
Something terrible has happened, she realized. Something that threatens to tear apart the very fabric of the House of the Triad's existence. And Tauran is convinced that Zasian is responsible for it.
Eventually, the horrid chaos that had engulfed the plane and shook the Court to its foundations had abated. A level of calm returned that permitted the quartet of fugitives to escape. Aliisza had no doubt that they would not have survived in the open sky otherwise.
The alu rose to her feet and walked to where Tauran and Kael sat, each in silent contemplation. She squatted before the angel and gazed at him. His expression was sorrowful to behold. He seemed to bear the weight of the world on his shoulders and knew he was on the verge of dropping it.
"What happened?" she asked quietly.
The angel looked back at her with eyes filled with the deepest sadness. "Helm fell before Tyr," he said. His voice, usually so rich and confident, sounded weak, like a frightened child's. He could not hold her gaze and returned his own to the floor in front of him.
"What? I don't understand. Tyr defeated him? Isn't that what you wanted? An end to the bickering between them?"
"Not like this," Kael said when Tauran would not answer. "Tyr slew him."
The words crashed against Aliisza like a storm-tossed wave. One god had slain another. "How is that possible?" she breathed. "Your gods don't do that."
"Not often," Kael conceded. "Certainly not by choice. Whatever drove him to do it… the ravaging of the House was both his fury and his sorrow."
Tauran looked at Aliisza again, and she saw something new in his face, something she had never thought to see in an angel's visage. Shame. "Tyr, and many of us who serve him, will not see it this way," he said quietly. "But he has fallen from grace today. No matter how much power and wisdom he wields, the Maimed God took a misstep in his decision to debate Helm, and the results have weakened the entire House."
"Cyric drove him to it," Kael added. "There can be no other explanation."
Tauran nodded. "Perhaps that is true, but even so, Tyr made the choices he made. I love him like no other"-at that point, the angel's voice cracked-"but today, I look upon his glory and find it tarnished. He has betrayed my trust."
Aliisza found the deva's words stunning. "You can't just turn your back on him," she said, surprised by her own conviction. "He is your life, your whole reason for being. You can't just cast all that away."
"What would you know of such things?" Kael said coldly. "You, who have never served any higher ideal in your long, corrupt life."
Aliisza stared at her son but said nothing. The alu was surprised how much his words stung. He is wounded, she realized, perhaps embarrassed. He blames us for some of this.
"Leave her be, Kael," Tauran said. "She may not have devoted much of herself to greater causes before, but that doesn't mean she isn't learning. Remember, she is still here of her own accord, by choice."
Kael frowned for a moment, then grimaced and nodded in acquiescence. "You are right. Forgive me. Mother."
That was the first time Aliisza could recall her son addressing her as such. She blinked in surprise but still said nothing. Was that deferential or demeaning? she wondered. Then she dismissed it. A question for another time, she decided.
"Tyr is not my whole reason for existing," Tauran said, drawing Aliisza back into the conversation. "The ideals he represents are what I have devoted my life to. I have believed with all my heart what he believes in. I still do, which is why I am so disappointed. He did not live up to those ideals, at least not in my mind. Micus and the others must see things differently, but I cannot abide leaving this tragedy uninvestigated. We must find out what caused this, if Cyric is indeed at the root of it."
"Through Zasian," Aliisza added. "If Zasian acts on Cyric's behalf, as you claim-"
"He does," Kael interjected.
"— then we must find him to find out his-and thus, Cyric's-plans."
Tauran looked pointedly at Aliisza. "Yes. And that's why I still need your help. You and Vhok know more about him than we do. Help me figure out where he's gone, what he's up to."
Aliisza glanced over at Kaanyr. The cambion had risen to his feet and was standing near the edge of the temple, gazing out at the storm-tossed clouds beyond. He had his hands clasped behind his back, looking calm and confident for the first time in a long while.
At least he's not sulking, Aliisza thought. "Kaanyr knows Zasian far better than I," she said. "He conspired with the man to get here. He traveled with him. I only interacted with Zasian peripherally. And mostly I tried to avoid him." She had to fight to keep the bitterness at her lover's trickery from infecting her tone. Then she leaned close and lowered her voice. "Kaanyr will do the minimum necessary to adhere to the rules of your bonds," she warned. "I will try to convince him that it will be more useful, even to him, if he does more-if he really helps. But you should know that he will find a way to repay you for your trickery." She gave Tauran a steady stare. "He does not take well to being manipulated."
"I did nothing of the sort," the angel replied, his tone bristling. "He freely relinquished control without fully investigating the situation."
Aliisza clicked her tongue in disapproval. "You were almost gleeful when you revealed his mistake to him," she said. "Don't deny that you were looking forward to seeing his reaction."
Tauran grimaced and nodded. "Indeed," he said. "There is a certain righteous satisfaction in out-clevering such a cunning adversary. I did let my pride cloud my emotions." He sighed. "But you cannot deny that if I had revealed the lost time to either of you before securing your agreement to aid me, you would have departed at once."
Aliisza smiled. "You don't understand," she said. "It's not that Kaanyr feels the maneuver was unjust. He is just resentful that he fell for it. In his mind
, your desperate clinging to such lofty ideals as 'honor,' 'nobility,' and 'law' make you vulnerable to crafty deceptions. He let his guard down because he assumed that you would consider yourself above that sort of underhanded duplicity. If he took a moment to allow himself, he might actually, begrudgingly, admire you for it. But he is too proud to admit it, even to himself most of the time. And"-she glanced the cambion's way once more-'"his pride will drive him to pay you back. I should know. I've been watching him do it with other adversaries for many, many years. That's what brought him here in the first place, you know."
Tauran shrugged. "So be it," he said. "So long as it doesn't prevent me from exposing Cyric and Zasian's actions to the rest of the Court." The angel rose to his feet. "Now," he said, stretching to his full height, "what can you two tell me about Zasian to get us started?" He spoke those last words loudly enough for Kaanyr to hear.
"It's about time you stopped sulking," the cambion said, striding over to join the other three. "Your friend Micus is sure to think to search for us here. We should depart, at once."
"I agree," Tauran said. "But to where? Without some sort of clue, some evidence leading us, there is no point. What can you tell me of the priest?"
Kaanyr gave a long sigh and stared off at nothing, thinking. "I don't know nearly as much about him as I should," he said.
"He posed as a servant of Bane-part of a well-organized cabal hidden among the citizens of Sundabar. They had strategic plans for taking over the city when the time was right, but most of them seemed to be all talk and little action. Among them all, Zasian was the only one who seemed to have any brains. I should have known better than to trust a Banite with common sense."
Tauran folded his arms across his chest. "Anything else?" he asked.
The cambion shook his head. "Not really. He was clever. He was logical. He had a way of arguing things that always made sense. If he was truly a servant of the Prince of Lies, as you say, he hid it well."
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