Brigit joined them next. Her smooth face was bruised, her lips puffed and swollen. Her silver breastplate remained smooth, but concealed beneath soot, mud-and blood. She brushed a hand across her eyes, and Alicia noticed that she had lost a gauntlet somewhere.
Colleen, the scout who had fought beside Brigit all day, approached out of the smoke, her expression stricken.
"I found Myra's horse," she said numbly. "Others, too-but the riders were …"
"That's enough," replied the captain, closing her eyes in momentary pain. She shook her head. How many lives would end on this day?
"Wait-we go together!" Brandon lurched from another smoky ruin, the northman's axe clutched firmly in his two hands. Others joined them from the places where they had scattered when the Elf-Eater had rumbled through. Robyn emerged from a clump of trees. The High Queen's face was smudged with smoke, but her eyes smoldered with the flame of anger. There was Keane, limping slightly. He pushed himself erect as the others came into view, joining their advance with scarcely a falter in his step.
"Argen-Tellirynd. . the palace," Brigit said, her tone dull. "It has stood inviolate for more than three thousand years." She shook her head, as if trying to dispel an enchantment of disbelief. Ahead of them, they saw the Elf-Eater, crouching motionless between a pair of blazing houses, greedily devouring the numerous limp shapes scattered on the ground around it.
Abruptly the thing rose. If it noticed the approach of the companions, it gave no sign. Instead, it rolled forward in its deceptively awkward gait until it once again stood in the middle of the street, less than a hundred paces from Alicia.
Then it started to move, rumbling away from them toward the gleaming facets of Argen-Tellirynd.
"Can you distract it somehow?" Brigit cried to Keane, her tone desperate. "Get it to come this way-anywhere but the palace!"
"When will it have enough?" groaned Keane, weariness making his voice strident. He raised a hand and barked a magical command.
Sparks hissed and crackled in the air, along with the pungent scent of a nearby lightning strike. Three balls of force, hissing and sputtering, trailing flashes and sparks in the air, hurtled into the Elf-Eater's carapace. Each exploded with a violent convulsion, searing into the creature's unnatural flesh, burning and sizzling with released force. The monster picked up speed but continued to lumber away from them.
Keane groaned and staggered. For a moment, Alicia feared that he might collapse, but then he shook his head and stumbled forward with the others. His hand closed around the steel dagger he always carried at his waist.
"For Synnoria-for the Llewyrr, and the Palace of the Ages!" cried Brigit, raising her sword and charging forward on foot. Other sisters joined her, and then Alicia, Hanrald, and Brandon shouted through hoarse throats and added their weight to the ragged charge. The tree of Alicia's changestaff lumbered beside them. Robyn trotted beside Keane, but then the druid queen cried another command. Once more the earth elemental rose from the land. This time, it emerged from among the paving stones in the street, bearing several marble slabs like plate armor, and lumbered toward the Elf-Eater.
But the marauding monster only flicked its tentacles at the pesky mortals attacking its rear. Most of the Ityak-Ortheel's attention focused on the magnificent structure before it.
The high wall, as clear as glass, surrounded the three-sided courtyard of Argen-Tellirynd. In the center of this plaza rose the pyramidical shape of the palace itself, three triangular walls that came together in a sharp peak at the top.
Rumbling faster now, too fast for the companions to keep up, the monster charged straight toward the clear wall-almost as if the thing didn't know the barrier existed. Closer it lumbered, and then it lowered its shell as it had done at the city gates.
The ground shook from the force of the impact, and a sound like thunder crashed through the air. The beast bounced back from the wall and pounded to the earth, but again, with deceptive quickness, it bounced back to its three feet.
"The wall! It didn't break!" shouted the princess, fiercely delighted.
"Look," said Keane grimly, pointing to the glasslike barrier.
Alicia's heart sank as she saw a thin spiderweb of cracks spread along the crystalline wall. The monster backed up several steps and charged forward again, crashing into the wall and stopping in its tracks. This time the sound of splintering rang through Chrysalis.
The wall still held, but obviously not for long. Pieces of the crystalline substance fell away in a glittering shower, and several gaping holes yawned in the barrier. Cracks spread farther to the left and right, casting dazzling prisms on the ground when the sun washed over them.
When the Elf-Eater bashed the wall a third time, the barrier came apart in a shower of sharp crystals. Passing through the gap, the monster entered the huge, triangular courtyard of the Argen-Tellirynd.
Deirdre returned to her mirror, fiercely determined to prove her strength in such a way that none could ever again deny it. Quickly the image found Synnoria and the city of the Llewyrr. The path of the Elf-Eater gaped like a bleeding wound across the scene, and Deirdre easily followed the trail to the edge of the crystal palace.
Her heart pounded as she saw, again, the broad triangle of the palace courtyard-and the similarly shaped structure within. Perfect!
For once, Deirdre's iron-hard confidence rested on her shoulders with less than total conviction. The task was an awesome one, the enemy a being of unthinkable power.
Yet, if she was right, that enemy had a fatal weakness, and the princess of Callidyrr was the only person who knew where that vulnerability lay.
Finally the image faded from the mirror, and she was ready to put her plans into action. Deirdre wrapped her cloak around her lithe body and closed her eyes, picturing clearly the scene that had last appeared before her eyes.
She spoke three words sharply, and then she was gone.
Sinioth ordered his two lieutenants, each a monarch in his own right, to attend him in the Great Grotto of the Coral Kingdom. This was a huge, domed cavern erected at the height of the coral ridge occupied by Krell-Bane's scrags. The giant squid coiled around a dais in the center of the grotto and waited for the others to speak.
Sythissal floated before his master, while Krell-Bane rested on the coral floor of the grotto. The latter's eyes still flashed hatred. He greatly resented the orders of Talos requiring him to accept a new master in his own realm, but he kept his wrath hidden, observing the conference with rapt attention.
"How do we catch these humans if they take to the sea?" he wondered aloud.
"There I have been making preparations," explained Sythissal, eagerly settling to the floor. His clawed hands flexed as he gestured. "My warriors have built two great ships-ships that will carry us on the surface as fast as the humans can sail! No longer will our enemies outrun us with a favorable wind!"
"These are ships of the surface?" asked the scrag king in genuine surprise.
"They wait for us under the water, but only atop the sea will they gain their highest speed. They are secreted in the Moonshaes now, ready for our master's command!"
Krell-Bane grimaced at his ally's fawning, but he couldn't contain his curiosity. "What are these vessels? Where have they come from?"
"My warriors have created them from the shells of wrecked human ships-hulls and decks we have joined, capable of carrying many hundreds of us. As to what they are," replied Sythissal, his barbed teeth flashing in a self-satisfied grin, "I have decided to call them 'Mantas.' "
7
Twin Triangles
Brigit stumbled through the wreckage of the crystal wall, desperate to distract the Elf-Eater from its attack against the Palace of the Ages. Alicia watched, awestruck, admiring the elfwoman's courage even as she recognized her futility. Two other sisters, their armor battered and their faces dirty, accompanied their captain in this headlong advance.
The tall triangle of the palace proper soared skyward before them, blocked only by the pastoral
hedges, the curved marble walls and sweeping reflective pools that had once created such harmony in the courtyard. Centered in the midst of this grace, the crystalline walls of the three-sided pyramid once reflected beauty and balance.
The elephantine monster shattered any such pristine memories, lumbering closer to the palace, paying no attention to the insignificant elven warriors to its rear. Instead, Ityak-Ortheel bore straight toward the looming structure, crushing to gravel a marble arch that stood in its path, smashing lush and ancient cedars underfoot so that the sweet scent of green needles permeated the air. Stomping through the wreckage, the monster continued without pause.
Alicia waited with her companions outside the breach in the wall. A sense of wonder bedazzled her, for the shining silver and diamond structure before her, towering to its lofty point in the sky, evoked a strong sense of awe. The Argen-Tellirynd was the grandest building she had ever seen, more elegant and beautiful even than Caer Callidyrr, yet now its grandeur could evoke only a profound sadness, for saving the palace didn't seem like an attainable goal.
Keane groaned wearily, slumping against a crumbling wall. Robyn, too, leaned weakly against the supporting surface.
With a grimace, she pushed herself upward.
"Attack-go!" the queen commanded, and the hulking earthen form of her stone-plated elemental lumbered after the Elf-Eater. The gangly, leaf-covered form of Alicia's change-staff followed in a gait that seemed as awkward as a man on stilts, yet carried the tree being forward with sweeping strides.
Finally Hanrald and Brandon stepped through the broken wall of crystal, followed by Alicia, Robyn, and Keane.
"A diversion!" Brigit cried, turning to cast about for some kind of idea. She looked at them in despair. "We've got to draw that thing away!"
"I don't think we can," the High Queen said quietly, in a voice that still carried clearly to Brigit's ears.
The elfwoman whirled back toward the monster, as if she would run forward and try to drag it back by herself. Then her shoulders slumped, and she staggered in complete dejection. "We can't," she agreed, choking with grief. "Three thousand years …"
She didn't finish, but there was nothing anyone could do to change the beast's inexorable advance toward the Palace of the Ages. The Ityak-Ortheel was clearly drawn to the triangular pyramid by some compulsion not understood by the human and elven onlookers.
The monster rumbled through the wide courtyard, trudging through several pristine fishponds. The crystal waters shimmered in a fine spray as they were splashed by the grotesque feet, and then flowed into the muddy depressions left by the Elf-Eater's passage.
Two blue-coated elven warriors, each carrying a silver-bladed halberd, rushed forward from a palace guardpost. They raised their weapons and shouted a fierce cry as they attacked, but before the blades dropped, the Ityak-Ortheel reached out with leathery tentacles and swiped the weapons away.
The hapless fighters struggled vainly in the grip of those same limbs, their screams silenced with shocking speed.
Again Alicia remembered how swiftly Pawldo had disappeared. Anger boiled within her, coupled with furious frustration. There seemed to be nothing they could do to slow the monster's onslaught.
More trees splintered-three ancient aspens this time, each thicker in girth than a man could reach around-as the Elf-Eater continued in its direct path toward the palace. The high, shining wall leaned away from it, soaring upward in a perfect triangle to the sharp point in the bright Synnorian sky.
"Stop!" shouted Brigit as the first tentacle reached forward to touch the gleaming surface.
"No! Let it go forward!"
The words rang through the air like a peal of thunder, spoken from behind the companions. Shocked, Alicia and her companions wheeled, weapons ready for attack or defense. Even Brigit and Colleen halted their headlong advance to stare in astonishment.
"Deirdre!" gasped Alicia, the first to recover her voice.
"Don't stop it!" The black-haired princess ignored her sister, instead repeating her direction to Brigit as she stalked toward them. She passed through the breach in the wall and marched into the courtyard of the Argen-Tellirynd like some commanding warlord. Wind gusted against Deirdre's black dress, outlining her strong legs and streaming her long hair behind her.
Advancing past her mother and sister silently, the princess finally stopped to confront Brigit with her hands firmly on her hips.
"Who are you?" demanded the white-faced captain of the sister knights.
"My daughter," Robyn replied, her tone icy as she joined the pair. "This is an emergency!" she snapped to Deirdre. "Explain yourself-quickly!"
"The two triangles-the courtyard and the building-give us our only chance to defeat this creature!" the younger woman explained, her voice level, as if the chaos around them was some sort of remote picture. "If we can lure the beast there, I can send it away-at least, I think I can," she said, no trace of doubt in her voice.
Alicia looked for Keane's reaction to her sister's astounding claim. Surprisingly the mage's brows were knitted in concentration. He appeared to be giving serious weight to Deirdre's claim.
"You don't believe her, do you?" demanded the older princess.
"I don't know what else to hope for," Keane informed her, and Alicia had no good reply to that.
"Do you know what you countenance?" spat Brigit, still pale with fury. "This is the Argen-Tellirynd! It has stood for millennia, and now you ask that we allow this horror within its sacred walls?"
"Only if you want to get rid of it."
Brigit's eyes flashed in anger, but abruptly she turned and confronted Robyn. "What kind of madness is this?" she demanded.
"I. . don't know," replied the High Queen of the Ffolk, studying her daughter-so much the image of herself-with narrowed eyes.
A crash of crystal, mingled with the incongruously musical ringing of broken silver piping, signaled further destruction as the Ityak-Ortheel bashed through the palace wall, probing with its tendrils, smashing a wider opening for its domed body. Quickly it forced itself through the gap, disappearing within the palace to the sounds of continued destruction.
"Come on," commanded Deirdre. She stepped along the rubble-strewn path of the monster, ignoring the shattered work of age-old sculptors and crushed remains of enchanted gardens. Reaching the gaping hole in the palace wall, she entered the Argen-Tellirynd.
Brigit looked after the young woman with fury etched upon her elven face, but finally she forced herself to clutch at the straw-the desperate, costly hope-extended by Deirdre. If the Elf-Eater could be vanquished, that was the only thing that mattered! She and her sisters, as well as their human companions, fell in behind Deirdre.
"In the center of the building," announced the dark-haired sorceress, watching carefully as the Elf-Eater rumbled ahead. "It must go all the way in."
She picked up the pace of her advance, keeping within a few dozen paces of the monster. They passed toppled pillars of marble, quartz, and silver, saw a hall of tall mirrors, every one of them smashed. High, arching holes marked each wall the Elf-Eater had crashed through, and even when it disappeared from sight around a corner for a moment or two, they had no difficulty remaining close behind.
Finally the beast smashed an opening in a wall of white stone, kicking the rubble out of the way to advance into the great atrium, the triangular heart of the palace. Three walls soared upward, meeting in a narrow peak a hundred feet overhead. Long, narrow windows showered the room with incongruously bright sunlight. A black floor gleamed like a mirror, except where chunks of stone lay scattered from the force of the Elf-Eater's entrance.
Deirdre sprinted ahead, following the beast into the room for several steps before she suddenly stopped. The monster reached the center of the triangle, and Deirdre raised her hands.
The words of her teleportation spell flamed in her mind. The triangles were centered, the three-legged beast vulnerable to her magic. The timing was perfect-now!
"Bluth-tar-!"
Rigidly concentrating, Deirdre began to chant the spell.
The Elf-Eater whirled with astounding speed, springing toward Princess Deirdre. She screamed and stumbled backward.
"My spell!" she shrieked as the wasted power hissed in the air around her. She reached out, as if to retrieve the useless casting, but her concentration had been broken, leaving her helpless before the full brunt of the leaping Ityak-Ortheel.
But another had carefully watched her-and in a flash, Keane understood what the princess attempted. And she was not the only one who knew the words to a teleportation spell.
"Bluth-tarith-Erallanor!"
The chant was completed by the magic-user, his voice as free of tremor and as taut as a fully drawn bowstring. The Elf-Eater, leaping from the center of the triangular atrium, suddenly froze in the air, as if suspended by some kind of restraining rope. It hung there for a moment as a bellow of consummate rage shook the very foundations of Synnoria.
Then it began to grow faint, its image shimmering, the Ityak-Ortheel soon fading into nothing more than foggy illusion.
In a few seconds, it was gone.
Brigit found Erashanoor wandering among the ruined walls of the Argen-Tellirynd. The ancient sage's feet crunched across twisted facets of crystal, tearing his boots and finally cutting into his feet.
"Come, grandfather," she said, helping the old elf to a less littered stretch of the corridor. He blinked at her vaguely, but then his pale eyes focused, reflecting great wells of grief and pain.
"It came through the gate, did it not?" he asked numbly. "Through the Fey-Alamtine?"
"Yes, it did." She could give him nothing less than the truth. "The Synnorian Gate is destroyed-ruined by the creature when it came through."
Erashanoor groaned, his voice tremulous. "This-the palace, these walls and gardens-they can all be rebuilt. But the Fey-Alamtine!"
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