The Crystal Mountain

by Thomas M. Reid

  Aliisza sat and focused her concentration. She imagined a place in the Astral Plane, just beyond the reach of the chunk of world in which they were trapped. She closed her eyes and began to build up arcane energy.

  If I survive this, she thought, it’s going to hurt like the Nine Hells.

  Vhok’s steps felt light and easy as he walked through the tunnels of the demonic stronghold. That was too easy, he thought. Tauran finally got a taste of his own rules, and he has found them wanting. The fool.

  The only part that dismayed him was Aliisza. Even too feeble to draw on her magic, she had tried to stop him. She had made her choice. She’s no longer the one I loved, he told himself. But I will miss her.

  You will find another consort, Kaanyr Vhok. Right now, remember that you are free. You’re free!

  Vhok’s stride was rather jaunty as he turned a corner and entered the great chamber where the marilith held court before, when he and Aliisza had come before her. She was there, surrounded by her minions. Two of the large, ram-headed fiends guarded the doorway, and when they spotted him approaching, they blocked his route with their wicked-looking polearms.

  “I must speak with Vhissilka,” Vhok said. “It concerns a means of returning us all to the Abyss.”

  “You will wait,” one of the two guards said before he bounded off to inform the marilith. The other remained there, watching Vhok closely. He wondered if it was one of the survivors he had commanded earlier. He struck a pose of disdainful boredom and waited.

  The guard returned, but the hyena-headed demon with the snake protruding from his neck, Grekzith by name, accompanied the lowly demon. The guard resumed its position on one side of the door, while Grekzith stood before Vhok and folded his arms across his chest, matching the cambion’s haughty stare.

  “My mistress is busy,” he said. “Go away.”

  Vhok chuckled. “Vhissilka is not too busy to hear what I have to say. Go tell her I’ve found a way to get her back to her beloved Abyss. And tell her that circumstances have changed. She can have the angel. I have all the information I need from him.”

  The demon glared at Vhok. “I will also ask Vhissilka for permission to disembowel you for your impertinence,” he said. He turned and stalked back to the marilith.

  Vhok watched the exchange between demons carefully. As the molydeus whispered in her ear, the marilith’s eyebrows shot up. She uttered some quick command and gestured for the other fiend to hurry away. By the molydeus’s body language, Vhok could tell he was not happy.

  Good, Vhok thought. The quicker he learns not to try me, the better.

  The red-skinned demon stormed past Vhok with barely a glance. He exited the chamber and disappeared. Vhissilka gestured for Vhok to join her.

  When the cambion reached the snake-bodied demon’s side, she said, “You have found a way to return my army and me home?”

  “Yes. I will set out immediately. I will locate a portal leading back to the Abyss from the Astral Plane. Once I have found such a pathway, I will guide you and your army through it.”

  The marilith snorted. “You will simply depart and never return,” she said, waving one of her several arms in dismissal. “I am no fool, cambion.”

  “The thought had crossed my mind,” Vhok said, “but there is much more to be gained by returning with you.” So much more, he thought.

  “What do you gain?” Vhissilka asked, slithering around Vhok where he stood. “What is your advantage?”

  Vhok drew a deep breath. “The angel that arrived with me has been the source of untold trouble for me. I want revenge.”

  “And how will you achieve such?” the demon asked, still winding herself around the cambion. Her coils held his ankles tightly together and she began to work her way up past his knees, closing in on him.

  Swallowing back any concern he had for his own safety, he calmly replied, “The information I have gleaned at the angel’s expense. I will sell it to the highest bidder when we arrive.”

  “No one will listen to you,” Vhissilka scoffed. “You will be slain and cast into a pit the moment you set foot within in an archdemon’s territory.”

  “Not if I am your ally,” he replied. “Not if I allow you to claim much of the credit for the knowledge.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Because it’s the end result that matters to me,” Vhok said. “I want a chance to make all the creatures of the House of the Triad regret they ever crossed me. You can help me make that happen.”

  “I accept,” the demon said, coiling herself more tightly around Vhok, pinning his arms to his sides. “But with one change. You will remain here as my guest, along with the angel, the human, and the half-drow, which I know to be the alu’s son. You will tell me everything you have gleaned from the angel, right here, right now. I will also torture the angel until he is completely broken, and compare what he reveals against your own claims. If I am satisfied, I might allow you to live. In the meantime, I will send the alu out to find a magic portal. She will be the one to lead us through it.”

  “But—” Vhok began, only to discover he had no air to finish his statement as the coils of the snake-demon suddenly constricted. He gasped and struggled, but her grip was absolute. Vhok felt himself growing faint. He could not get enough air. He opened his mouth to protest, to plead, but he had no voice.

  Idiot! he fumed, fighting the panic that engulfed him. What have you done?

  Just as he began to lose consciousness, he heard a deep voice from nearby. He recognized it as that of Grekzith the molydeus.

  “Forgive me,” the creature said, “but the others are not in the chamber where they were to be held. They have vanished.”

  “What?” the marilith screamed, tightening her grip on Vhok. He thought his ribs were going to crack. “Find them!”

  “As you command,” the red-skinned demon replied.

  Vhissilka loosened her hold on Vhok the tiniest bit. It was not enough for him to move, but he was able to draw in a shallow breath. He spent a few thudding heartbeats panting as the spots faded from his vision.

  “Where are they?” the marilith demanded. “What have you done with them?”

  Vhok shook his head, cursing himself for leaving them to their own devices. “I don’t know,” he said. “But they can’t be far. They’re all weak, dying. Let me help you find them. The alu doesn’t trust you, but she will come to me.” It was a lie. One chance to slip away, he thought. That’s all I need.

  The marilith held him fast for a moment longer as she appeared to consider his request. Then she tightened the coils once more. “I think not,” she said, crushing the air from him again. “You are much too valuable for me to allow you to escape. How else am I going to entice the alu to return? ”

  Kael fought the urge to pace. He fingered the hilt of his sword as he watched Aliisza. The alu had been sitting very still, her eyes closed, for a long time. Though she seemed to be concentrating, her facial expression would occasionally ripple with frustration.

  To pass the time, Kael would occasionally move to the exit of the chamber and peer out into the larger tunnel beyond. He stood there and tried to penetrate the silence, listening for some sign that there were threats nearby. He only detected something once, but whatever had made the noise, it never drew closer.

  I cannot abide all this waiting, Kael thought, returning once more to stand by his mother’s side. The longer we delay, the greater our chances of discovery. But he did not want to disturb his mother by voicing his concerns, so he instead turned his attention toward the other two refugees hiding with them.

  Tauran seemed to be holding his own, though he was in poor shape. He sat with eyes closed, slumped against a wall of the fetid chamber, looking pale and drawn. Sweat trickled down his face and kept his once lustrous blond curls slicked down against his head. His wings drooped at his sides, and his breathing had turned raspy in his chest. Every time he suffered a coughing fit, Kael nearly went out of his mind with fear that they would
be found and caught.

  Zasian, on the other hand, did nothing. The priest had grown completely comatose, no longer responding to anything anyone said to him. Even touching him no longer drew his attention. He merely sat where Aliisza had led him, his eyes glazed. The glow he emanated had become strong and bright. It seemed to be the only thing about the man that exhibited any will to live.

  Aliisza let out a growl of frustration. Kael turned to look at her and saw her open her eyes and frown. “I can’t do it,” she said, throwing her head in her hands and covering her face. “I just cannot get the magic to settle on a spot. Damn!”

  Kael’s spirits plummeted. They had no other options, unless they physically walked back to the surface of the cave complex and tried to reach the boundary of the strange mini-plane that way. He voiced the idea, but Aliisza shook her head.

  “We’d never make it,” she said. “There are too many fiends about, from both sides of the Blood War. And where we arrived, it’s an ocean. We would have to swim for it, and it’s too far.”

  “We’ve got to try,” Kael said, kneeling down next to her. “We can’t just sit here while you do this forever.”

  “I’m doing the best I can!” she snapped. Kael could tell she was close to breaking. “I never meant for it to come to this. I tried to stop you.” Her voice cracked. “I tried to stop you.”

  Kael shook his head. He knew she referred to the fight within the rotunda. “It’s in the past,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders. “You were doing what you thought was right.” He gave her shoulders a squeeze to reassure her. It surprised him how fond he was growing of her. He had spent some of his childhood lamenting his fate at not having a mother, but he had not truly missed such a presence in his life in a long time. To suddenly embrace Aliisza as such was … unnerving and exciting all at the same time.

  “We need a celestial,” Tauran said weakly. “Someone with plane-traveling abilities. It’s a shame Micus is lost to us. He could aid us.”

  Aliisza sat up. “Does it have to be an angel?” she asked, a strange hope in her voice. “Or just someone who can perform powerful planar-hopping magic?”

  Tauran frowned and tried to focus his gaze in her direction. “Anyone could do it,” he said. “An archon, a high priest, a—”

  “A wizard,” Aliisza added. A faint smile crossed her face. She moved closer to Tauran. Kael joined them both there. “Tell me,” she said, “How does a Living Vessel work?”

  “I told you,” Tauran said, weariness filling his voice. “An angel can sacrifice—”

  “No, no,” Aliisza interrupted. “Not how it is created. How it is used. What do you do to fill it?”

  Tauran frowned. “Usually, there is a ritual. The body of the creature is brought near so that the soul can shift from it to the new vessel. Sometimes, in battle, it is less formal. So long as the two bodies touch, it can be done. But why?”

  “Does the original body need to be alive?” she asked, pulling her sword free.

  “No,” the angel answered. “That is not necessary.”

  “Then maybe this will work,” Aliisza said, turning the blade around so that the hilt faced her. Kael watched as she placed her fingers on a set of spots on the hilt and then pushed a certain way. The hilt twisted in her hand and the end slipped free, like a cap from a jug. A hollow chamber was revealed. Aliisza tipped the sword up so that something slid free into her hand. Kael recoiled slightly as he saw what the alu held.

  There, in her palm, sat an ebony, desiccated finger, shriveled and delicate.

  “How would you like to meet your father?” Aliisza asked, smiling up at Kael.

  Aliisza’s hands trembled as she held Pharaun’s finger. Her mind raced with a dozen thoughts, from wondering if her idea would really work to trying to guess what Kael and Tauran thought of her revelation. The idea of actually coming face-to-face with the drow mage sent shivers up her spine.

  “My father?” Kael asked, his voice slightly timid. “That’s his?”

  “Yes,” Aliisza said, “plucked from the Abyss after his death. I’ve kept it all this time, wondering if I would ever need to make use of it.”

  “He has no compunction to enter the Living Vessel,” Tauran said. “It has been a long time for him. In some ways an eternity. And whatever has happened to him in those intervening stretches, he might not even recall you or your role in his life. His life itself might be nothing but a faint memory. Rarely is a Living Vessel used in this way.”

  Aliisza frowned. “But do you agree that it might work?” When the angel nodded, she said, “Then don’t make me any more nervous than I already am.”

  Kael had risen to his feet and was pacing, his sword in his hand. “What makes you think that he will help us?” His tone had grown high-pitched, filled with nervous energy. “Or that he will want to know about me?”

  Aliisza smiled. And so it comes full circle, she thought. “As a very wise person once explained it to me, in order to gain the benefit of caring about others, you have to be willing to surrender to the heartbreak that it might not work out as you expect … or hope.” She cast a glance over at Tauran, who showed the faintest hint of a smile. “He’s your father. At worst, your relationship with him will be nonexistent, just as it is now. At best …”

  Kael blew a sigh that puffed his cheeks out. “Very well,” he said. “It seems our only chance to escape this place, regardless. Let’s do this.”

  Aliisza smiled and took the finger close to Zasian. She hesitated.

  “What are the dangers?” she asked the angel. “What should we expect?”

  Tauran shrugged. “None, that I know of,” he said, his voice weak and raspy. “Just touch him with it.”

  “Will Zasian’s mind return?” she asked, suddenly wary. “Am I dooming us instead of helping?”

  “I cannot answer that,” Tauran replied. “In all of this, there is great uncertainty. Nothing like this has ever occurred before.” He broke into a coughing fit. When it finally subsided, he added, “But as Kael has pointed out, I see no other alternatives. Even if Zasian returns, you have not appreciably worsened our situation.”

  Grimacing, Aliisza turned back to the vacuous priest. That’s debatable, she thought. Although I wouldn’t mind the pleasure of gutting him, given the chance. She held the finger up to his gaze, watching to see if he would, at long last, react to something. He did not.

  Do it, she told herself. Touch him.

  Drawing a deep breath to bolster her courage, Aliisza tentatively reached out and placed the desiccated finger against Zasian’s arm.

  Nothing happened.

  “It’s not working,” Aliisza said, sagging back. Disappointment sapped the energy from her.

  “It may take a while for a connection to materialize,” Tauran said. “Do not assume anything, yet.”

  Aliisza moved Pharaun’s finger down to the priest’s hand. She placed it into the man’s palm and watched as Zasian’s own fingers curled reflexively around it.

  Aliisza sat back and watched. Please work. Maybe even the return of the Cyricist himself would be better. Please work!

  Zasian sat passively in front of Aliisza, staring at nothing. She could detect no change in the Living Vessel.

  Hope faded. Aliisza stared glumly at her own hands. Maybe Kael’s right. We should make a break for the surface, try to get out to sea, find some way to escape. It might kill me, but I could do it. I could blow the demons away. Even Kaanyr. He doesn’t know what kind of hell he unleashed, betraying me, she fumed. My last defiant act, obliterating him as the others slip away.

  She shook her head and said, “Still nothing. I guess it was too much to hope—”

  The illumination surrounding Zasian flickered.

  Aliisza gasped and jerked her gaze back toward the man’s face. Had there been a flutter of recognition there, in the eyes?

  She held the priest’s gaze with her own, watching it so intently that her eyes began to water. Another flicker rippled through t
he light, and it seemed to her to grow a tiny bit dimmer.

  “Something’s happening,” Kael said, moving in closer. “I saw something.”

  “Pharaun?” Aliisza said softly, waving her hand in front of the priest’s face. “Can you hear me?”

  The return stare did not change, but the nimbus of light flickered and weakened.

  “I think it’s working!” Aliisza whispered. “He’s coming!”

  The thought of actually getting a chance to speak with the drow wizard gave Aliisza a little shiver. What will he think?

  “Perhaps,” Tauran said, struggling to sit up straighter and take a look himself. “But again, I must caution you. Do not expect him to react kindly to your summoning him. Indeed, he may not even know you anymore.”

  Aliisza ignored the angel’s words. If Pharaun was being drawn into the vessel, he would remember her. She was certain. He has to.

  Over several long moments, the emanation continued to flicker and fade. It had almost died out completely when Zasian jerked and gasped. He peered around, wide-eyed.

  Then he screamed.

  “By Torm, make him be quiet,” Kael said in a strangled whisper. He reached out and clamped his hand over the suddenly frantic priest. The action caused Zasian to begin flailing violently. He slapped at Kael’s arm and thrashed on the ground, kicking. All the while, he continued to try to scream.

  Aliisza shoved Kael to the side and wrapped her arms around the wild priest. The thought that she was hugging a man she once hated passed briefly through the back of her mind, but she ignored it. She pressed her mouth close to Zasian’s ear.

  “Pharaun,” she said softly. “Pharaun, it’s me. It’s Aliisza. Easy. I’m here. I’m with you.”

  Zasian screamed once more, a long, wailing, ragged sound, and then he crumpled, sobbing. He went completely limp in Aliisza’s embrace.

  “Get out in the hall and make sure nothing surprises us,” Aliisza told Kael. “Hurry!”

  Kael, his own red eyes wide, shook himself into action and got to his feet. He strode almost eagerly out of the hideaway and into the hall beyond. He disappeared, though Aliisza could hear him walking farther up the passage. She continued to console the human in her embrace, not certain to whom she was speaking.