The Crystal Mountain

by Thomas M. Reid

  They remembered my trick with Kaanyr before, she thought, feeling morose.

  Beside her, Kael, Pharaun, and Eirwyn stood similarly attired and restrained. The drow appeared in his true form, as he had the night before, in the enchanted garden. Aliisza had blinked when he arrived in such a state and had given him a quizzical look.

  “A bit of divine intervention,” he explained with a mock whisper, “the granting of a small request.”

  The only one they were waiting for was Tauran.

  The chamber felt different to Aliisza. She could sense an undercurrent of chaos mingled with the officious, businesslike manner of those in attendance. Much had happened since she and her companions had departed, and little of it appeared good.

  Nothing was more evident of that chaos than the absence of four of the High Council members, including the High Councilor. The bench upon the dais sat half empty. The group of solars who were in attendance looked concerned, agitated. Their behavior was much more animated than Aliisza remembered, and their pearly white faces and golden eyes wore expressions of disquiet. They constantly leaned close to one another, whispering and gesturing.

  The collection of hound archons hovering around the defendants only added to the air of perturbation. Indeed, the sheer number of guards amazed Aliisza. The celestials had assigned no fewer than three guards per prisoner.

  They are taking no chances, Aliisza realized. We really must have put a scare into them.

  For a moment, she felt a swell of pride at having flustered the haughty angels. It was a fleeting emotion, though, overwhelmed by despair. And anger. Her sense of betrayal at the hands of the celestials had grown since her discussion with Kael and Pharaun in the garden, and she was finding that her sense of helplessness to do anything to convince the angels of their good intentions was beginning to enrage her.

  Why do they have to be so damned disciplined? she lamented. Their rigid code is going to be their downfall, and they’re taking us with them.

  It didn’t help Aliisza’s mood, imagining Kaanyr somewhere distant, laughing at her.

  Why did I come back? she asked herself yet again. Why did I talk myself into thinking this was a good idea?

  It wasn’t a good idea, it was the only option, she told herself. It was this or die. You made your choice. Even back when you agreed to follow Tauran. You could have left all this long ago, when you first woke up in the storm dragon’s lair. So too late for regrets now, fool girl.

  She heard that final comment in Kaanyr’s voice. It made her wince. Fool girl, indeed, she thought. Kaanyr was right. This place did change you.

  Aliisza cast a quick, furtive glance at Kael, who stood next to her. He stared at the floor, apparently deep in thought. A frown filled his mien, and she could see his hands clench and unclench. Her heart went to him.

  He’s watched so much of what he believed in crumble. He struggled so hard to embrace this life, this world. He would have done anything to serve the angels. Tried to impress them with his loyalty. Some thanks he’s received. But why does it hurt me so much? she wondered. Because they disillusioned my son.

  Bastards, all of them.

  On the knight’s other side, Pharaun gazed around in fascination. The drow seemed almost delighted to be there, witnessing such events.

  Aliisza felt a hint of a smile cross her face, watching the wizard. So typical, she thought. No matter how dire the circumstances, he never sheds that clever glee. Does he ever feel regret? He may today. At least this time, we had the chance to—

  The doors opened and Tauran entered, escorted by his own trio of archon guards. He had his hands manacled too. His face was furrowed with lines of sorrow and regret. It made Aliisza’s heart weep to see the angel so run-down, so trampled by events. He never looked up at the rest of them standing there, waiting for him.

  She remembered what she’d said to Kael. He doesn’t want to be here, she realized. He can’t bear to face this. Not what’s coming for himself, but for us. Gods and devils, this isn’t fair. He deserves better. We all do!

  The acting High Councilor brought the court to order. “It is this court’s intention to determine what, if any, acts of conspiracy have been committed against the House of the Triad and the Court of Tyr by those standing before us this day. We will begin with each defendant providing what testimony he or she wishes. Afterward, sentencing will be carried out.”

  Tauran began, offering in exacting detail everything that had happened to him in the time since Aliisza had first come into his care. Eirwyn followed, providing her own perspective, and then each of the others, in turn, were able to testify. By the time Aliisza had finished, her legs ached and she wanted to sit and rest. But she couldn’t think of another thing to add. The councilors asked a few questions, mostly as points of clarification. When they were finished, the acting High Councilor addressed the group.

  “We will adjourn for a time so that the council can deliberate. Guards, separate the prisoners.”

  The archons guided each of the defendants to a separate place within the chamber as the solars vanished.

  Aliisza asked if she could sit, and the archons led her to a bench. She sank onto it gratefully as the three celestial hounds surrounded her. She looked across the room to where each of her companions also waited, each one permitted to sit, none allowed to speak. She tried to meet the gaze of each one in turn, to smile hopefully at them, wanting so badly for the council to find them faultless and at last recognize the service they had done for the Court.

  Only Tauran never looked up to meet her stare.

  It did not take long for the councilors to come to a consensus. They reappeared and instructed the guards to bring the defendants before them once more.

  The acting High Councilor addressed the group. “Through these hearings, it has become apparent to this court that you stand before us not as conspirators, nor as allies. You simply acted in accordance with your own beliefs and did what you thought at the time to be right. Some of your choices seem questionable in hindsight. Some might have turned out better had others listened to you more closely. Your hearts may have been in the right place, but you failed to uphold the laws of the Court and the House, and sentence must, by law, be meted out.”

  Aliisza closed her eyes. They’re really going to go through with it, she thought. Even after all that’s happened, they can’t get out of their own way enough to see the folly. Damn them!

  The High Councilor continued. “It is therefore the decision of this body that each of you be sentenced, according to your role in this fiasco, as follows:

  “Eirwyn, in accordance with your previous pardon, you are free to pursue your personal agendas and keep your own counsel, provided you make no further effort to aid and abet any of your co-defendants.”

  Aliisza looked at the angel and saw her shaking her head, frowning.

  “Kael, you will be remanded into the care and custody of a suitable representative of Torm, where you will continue your studies under a new tutor.”

  Kael flinched and closed his eyes, and Aliisza’s heart broke for him.

  “Pharaun Mizzrym, you occupy a body given to you by those who had no right to offer it. Furthermore, as has already been discussed with you, we have determined that the Vessel into which you entered was imperfectly formed and is deteriorating. You cannot survive in such a fashion for long, and based on your life’s achievements, we do not see fit to grant you succor here. Therefore, this court sees no alternative but to banish you from this Vessel and send you back from where you came.”

  Aliisza saw Pharaun grimace the slightest bit, but that smug smile soon replaced it. “I think we can all agree that I should have seen that coming,” he said. His voice was unusually soft.

  Damn you all, she thought. There’s more compassion in him than in the lot of you put together.

  “Aliisza,” the High Councilor continued.

  The alu swallowed hard and braced herself. Do it, she thought, directing all her anger at the speaker
. I don’t care anymore. May you all rot in the Abyss!

  “Your time spent with us in the Court has proven to be … chaotic. While we cannot in good conscience find fault in your actions these last days”—How noble of you, the alu thought, feeling no pride in such a revelation—“we also cannot comfortably justify permitting you to remain within the Court or the House. Therefore, we are banishing you from this plane forevermore. You will be returned to your homeland immediately.”

  Aliisza felt numb. She supposed it was the best that she could have expected, but they had still punished her more cruelly than imprisoning her forever could have. Her friends, her family, had been stripped away from her. Forever. And she had nothing to return to. She felt like a vagabond.

  Finally, the acting High Councilor turned to Tauran. “Your exemplary record is long and storied,” she said. “And your heart, as it has been revealed to us, is true. Your actions were indeed those of one who believed he was working in the best interests of the Court, and of the House. However, your judgment is now what is under question. You deliberately chose to disobey this council on several occasions, you attacked your fellow devas in order to thwart them in their own duties, and you have repeatedly called into question the rightness and righteousness of Tyr and his decisions. Most importantly, you seem unrepentant. Do you deny this?”

  Tauran drew a deep breath before answering. “I do not,” he said, his voice clear. “I stand by my judgment.”

  Aliisza could see, though, that the accused angel’s hands shook. She clenched her own into fists to keep them from doing the same.

  The High Councilor frowned. “I see. You leave us no choice, then.”

  What? Aliisza thought. There might have been a choice? Tauran, repent! she silently screamed at him. Beg Tyr’s forgiveness! He will embrace you again!

  But the alu knew what was in Tauran’s heart.

  The High Councilor continued. “I therefore sentence you to be stripped of your divinity and your immortality forever. You are banned from the House of the Triad.”

  Tauran bowed his head and said nothing.

  The only sound filling the chamber was Aliisza’s sobbing.

  Vhok’s foul mood soured any enjoyment he might have gotten out of inspecting his troops. The demons that stood before him, shuffling about in uneven lines, with their mismatched weapons and undisciplined demeanors, only infuriated him more. They stank, scuffled, and didn’t seem to care one whit that they were supposed to be standing at attention.

  “These wretches aren’t fit to slop latrines,” he snapped at Vhissilka, who slithered along beside the cambion.

  “I’ll be certain to inform Lord Axithar you said so,” the marilith replied.

  Vhok grimaced but said nothing further as he continued down the line. Finding out that morning that he would answer to Vhissilka during the coming battle had not improved his mood.

  All the women in my life have brought me nothing but misery, he fumed. Mariliths in particular find such creative ways to spoil my fun. But it was Aliisza’s face that would not leave his mind’s eye.

  He had retired to his opulent quarters as Lord Axithar’s guest the night before, eager to partake of the luxuries the balor had provided him. The feast was delectable enough, more food than he could have eaten in ten meals, and enough wine to pickle a dragon. In truth, it wasn’t the best Vhok had ever enjoyed, but he could hardly complain after the trail fare he had dined on for far too long previously.

  Then musicians, entertainers, even willing concubines had come to his chambers, all desperately eager to please him. Vhok tried to ignore the haunted looks in most of their eyes as he partook of the sights and sounds.

  But in the end, it had been Aliisza that had dominated his thoughts. The harder he tried to dismiss her from his mind, the more she lingered there, taunting him. She would never leave him be.

  I should have killed you when I had the chance, he thought. But you’ll be dead soon enough. If magic doesn’t kill you, an enemy will. Now get out of my head!

  “Your heart doesn’t seem to be in this,” Vhissilka said. “Perhaps I should request a different captain for my banner guard.”

  Vhok forced himself to return to the moment. “Staring at them for hours won’t make them better soldiers,” he grumbled. “I have no more use for this.”

  “I agree,” the marilith said. “Instead, let’s return to Lord Axithar’s keep. I have a surprise for you there.”

  Vhok gave the demon a sidelong glance. Any time a demon speaks of surprises, it’s usually unpleasant. What is she conspiring to do to me? But she had already turned away and was gliding toward the towering fortress. Shrugging, the cambion followed her.

  Once inside the massive keep, Vhissilka led Vhok to a large courtyard with a parapet that overlooked the assembled hordes under Axithar’s command. The gathering of demons stretched as far as the smoke drifting across the broken plain would allow him to see. It was an impressive army.

  We’ll need every bit of it to overthrow the angels.

  Vhissilka drew Vhok’s attention toward a small side area. A swarm of demons moved around something large, but the cambion could not get a clear look at it. Then, as they drew closer, a great, howling cry rose up and some of the demons scattered.

  Enclosed within a stout iron cage, slamming against his prison in a rage, stood the abomination that had once been Micus and Myshik. He issued a piercing scream and lunged at one end of his prison, trying catch a dretch that had drawn too close. The abomination caught hold of the demon’s arm and ripped it completely off the hapless creature’s body.

  The dretch jabbered in pain and staggered away, spouting black blood everywhere. Two other demons pounced and rended it, feasting on its flesh. Others swarmed over it too, until Vhok could no longer even see the carcass.

  “You!” Micus screamed upon spotting the cambion. “Traitor!” He threw his misshapen body against the bars of his prison frantically, over and over again, trying to get at Vhok.

  The half-fiend stepped closer to get a good look at the captured thing. Time, torment, or both had warped Micus further. He no longer bore any resemblance to an angel. If Vhok had not seen Micus before his transformation, he would not have guessed at his celestial origin.

  Micus’s skin had turned a mottled purple color and had begun to fleck off in places, leaving gaping wounds that festered a yellowish green color. His face bulged in odd places, and his eyes, once such an intense black color, gleamed red in the shadows of the cage. His dark hair had grown long and unruly and dripped with sweat as he thrashed around inside his cage.

  At the level of his gut, Myshik’s beady gaze still fixated on him, with its maw opening and snapping shut eagerly over and over again. Vhok saw no sign of anything greater than animal instinct in that stare. For a moment, he imagined what it must have been like for the angel to discover he had been fused with the half-dragon. He suppressed a shudder.

  “We caught him shortly after you and your companions became my guests,” Vhissilka said. “He has gone mad with rage. He shouts your name from time to time, even though this is the first moment he’s set eyes on you since we seized him.”

  “He blames us—me, in particular—for his condition. He thinks I led him into a trap just so he could be transformed into such a thing.”

  “His mind is nearly gone,” the marilith said. “We have made much sport with him and broken whatever celestial part of him might have remained. Now he only wants to kill.”

  Vhok had a sudden, titillating thought. “It is unfortunate that he appears so uncontrollable. What a nice, ironic surprise it would be to spring him on our foes today.”

  “That’s precisely why I brought you here,” Vhissilka said. “You knew him before. Could he lead us to where the angels’ defenses will be weakest today?”

  Oh, you clever girl, Vhok thought. “If his memory of the place is intact,” he said. “But the question of control remains. How could we possibly force him to attack the celestials instead
of our own troops?”

  Vhissilka smiled. “If you look closely, you will see that the creature now bears a steel collar.”

  Vhok tilted his head down and spied the circlet of metal surrounding Micus’s throat.

  “This,” the marilith said, holding up a bracelet that matched the collar, “is the means to dominate the creature before you. However,” she added with caution, “once I place it on your arm, you cannot remove it save severing the limb, unless the abomination dies.”

  Vhok took the bracelet from Vhissilka and examined it. It was a simple length of metal that appeared to have been crudely hammered into a rounded shape. The ends did not quite meet, providing just enough room for someone to slip the item over a hand. He held it up to the angry red light of the sky and considered.

  “Are you offering this to me?” he asked. “A secret weapon in addition to leading your honor guard?”

  The marilith smirked. “It is Lord Axithar’s wish that you command the creature. He thought it fitting, given how much the creature hates you and how the very heavens from which he came will find him anathema.”

  Vhok chuckled. He already had another idea, an even better way to make use of Micus. “I accept,” he said, and he slipped the bracelet over his arm.

  The band of metal closed, tightening itself and reforming its shape until it gripped the cambion’s wrist snugly. When it stopped altering, it was tight but not uncomfortable.

  Vhok could feel the link between himself and Micus that had formed. He felt the hostility from the ruined angel, the rage and despair battering against his mind, but the link held the forces at bay. The cambion sent a mental command to Micus to quiet down and, even though he felt the resentment, the abomination stopped outwardly raging, standing still and easy within the confines of his cage.

  “Oh, this will serve nicely,” Vhok said, delighted. “I can think of many things to do with him.”