Authors: Thomas M. Reid
understand your fear, dragon, Zasian said, but your efforts are wasted. I know your mind better than you do. My course is set. I know the inevitability of what must happen. You cannot undo this. The dragon grew quiet, and Zasian could feel his fear grow.p>
He ignored the beast, and the journey continued.
Eventually, the dragon renewed his efforts, but Zasian was prepared. He fought the dragon with the same growing ease with which he battled the unfamiliar shape and muscles.
A searing pain filled the priest’s abdomen, and for a startled breath or two he feared that it was the dragon, finally finding some crack in his prison, at last reaching out with some energy to stab at Zasian’s presence from within. But the dragon seemed just as surprised as he, and before the beast could take advantage of the priest’s confusion, Zasian had his guard up again.
But he was going to be sick.
Damned mushrooms, Zasian thought. I must land. He began to look everywhere below him, desperate for a safe haven. Another sharp, white-hot pain shot through the priest,
and his fear of injury and falling to his death overcame his cautious hesitation. Even if there were any cursed celestials nearby, he would just have to risk it.
The priest spied a smallish bit of land, an uprooted, inverted mountain bobbing and weaving in the tempestuous winds. It slipped in and out of view several times, obscured by the racing, roiling clouds, but Zasian kept his bearing true and half-flew, half-tumbled to its upper surface.
Another sharp agony rammed into his gut as he flopped onto the open space atop the nodule of rock. A handful of scrawny trees whipped around in the fierce breezes, but at least they offered him some cover from unwanted eyes.
Not that anything would be out and about, trying to fly through this, Zasian thought.
He marveled again that the House of the Triad was in such an uproar. It was not known for anything other than idyllic weather, but Cyric’s efforts to drive a wedge between Tyr and Helm must have been going better than expected. Zasian almost laughed, imagining the natives’ consternation and panic over the disruption to their beloved paradise. A chortle almost escaped his wyrmish maw, but yet another shooting pain turned the sound into a grunt of anguish.
He really was going to be sick.
Zasian was fully in the act of retching something up, struggling to control both the writhing, twitching body and the sentience that wanted it back, when he realized the cause of his distress.
Something was coming through the portal.
Just as he and Kaanyr had crossed into the heavenly plane, another creature was making its way into the House by means of the efreeti sultan’s favorite pet.
He and the half-fiend had been followed.
In a brief moment of panic, Zasian worried that whatever was inside him knew he was vulnerable and would attempt to slay him from within. In that heartbeat of alarm, he almost lost his wits, almost allowed the dragon to regain a foothold. But he felt the surge of the dragon’s attack and braced himself enough to stem the assault.
Then he coughed once and vomited the interloper free.
Myshik Morueme went sprawling upon the tall grasses at Zasian’s clawed feet.
“Justice is not some gaudy cloak,” the angel standing opposite Tauran insisted, “worn only when it suits us and later cast aside as unfashionable!” The bronze-skinned deva fanned his white wings in agitation and punctuated his final, harsh words by jabbing his finger into the air. His dark eyes, which matched his short, dark hair, blazed with ire.
The two majestic archons that had arrived at the storm dragon’s lair with him stood with their great wings unfurled. They perched on the balls of their feet and watched the proceedings with wary gazes. Except for the feathered appendages, they appeared sublimely human in many ways, but they towered half again as tall as the angel they flanked, who himself stood head and shoulders higher than Aliisza.
The alu saw Tauran’s hands clench. He stood confronting his counterpart, his back to her, an unlikely champion in her eyes, shielding Aliisza and her two half-fiend companions from the other angel’s ire. “Nor is it a cudgel, existing solely to pummel everything within reach, my old friend,” he said, his voice softer but hinting at anger just the same.
That was it, Aliisza realized. An old friend. She remembered the celestial from her first day within the House of the Triad. Tauran had named him Micus then.
At any other time, Aliisza might have marveled at her good fortune, serving as witness to two angels bickering. It was not often that celestial beings disagreed so vehemently, and rarer still that they did so in front of others. Despite the privilege, Aliisza did not celebrate her luck. A warm, intense radiance surrounded the two angels, a glow of divine power that pained the alu to her demonic core. She blinked repeatedly, wanting to look away, but she forced her gaze to remain fixed upon them.
Her very life depended on the outcome.
“Not all justice is equal, Micus,” Tauran said in more gentle tones. “You more than most should understand that.”
The other deva’s eyes narrowed in accusation. “You sound like one of Helm’s apologists. Are you straying, my friend? Have you lost your way? Tyr’s Court has no more room within it for a wavering, stumbling soul than it does for the likes of these craven wretches.”
Beside her, Kaanyr Vhok, Aliisza’s lover and commander, issued a low growl and reached for Burnblood, the enchanted blade sheathed at his left hip. The cambion’s mouth curled in a faint sneer. His olive skin and white hair held a peculiar tint in the combined light of the strange, surreal chamber in which they stood and the purplish storm beyond its open-air periphery.
At Kaanyr’s threatening move, the two celestial creatures flanking Micus grew restless. Their forearms transformed into long, formidable blades that blazed with fire. The cool, damp air of the templelike chamber rippled with the heat. Muted thunder rumbled within the endless storm that roiled beyond the edges of the marbled floor, echoing the strained emotions within.
Though Aliisza often considered Kaanyr’s good looks and roguish attitudes irresistible, at that moment her simmering anger with the half-fiend made him come off as more churlish than charming.
Playing the indignant, entitled boor again, Aliisza thought.
She reached out to Kaanyr to halt his petulant behavior, but Kael was already there, placing a restraining hand on his sword arm. Aliisza’s half-fiend, half-drow son leaned near Vhok’s ear and whispered something. The cambion’s eyebrows arched up in surprise and anger, but he stayed his hand before shrugging off Kael’s grasp. That charcoal-skinned face never changed expression. Kael stepped back again, clasping his hands together atop the greatsword he held point down before himself.
At a soft word from Micus, the archons relaxed slightly, and the flaming swords winked out, becoming forearms once more.
Aliisza wondered how her son had come by such a blade, as well as the glimmering plate armor that adorned his body. He had donned it shortly after she had awakened, during the moments between Tauran’s cryptic plea and Micus’s unexpected arrival.
So much had happened in those few moments. Aliisza had been surprised to awaken at all, for tempting a celestial storm dragon to swallow her whole had seemed an addle-brained course at best. Doing so to rescue a lover who had tricked her into the convoluted scheme in the first place was pure idiocy. Even afterward, she had expected Tauran to condemn her for her acts, but instead he had asked for their help. None of it made any sense, and Micus and his twin bodyguards had arrived before Tauran could explain anything further.
So many questions, Aliisza thought, turning her attention toward Tauran once more. And he’s the only one with answers.
Tauran spoke, answering Micus’s question. “I stray no more than any open-minded member of the Court,” he said. “Though I may be a loyal servant of Tyr, were I to refuse to examine all sides of a debate out of blind loyalty, I would be a poor one.” Aliisza saw Micus bristle, but he said nothing as Tauran continued. “Though Helm and Tyr disagree, each of their arguments must have some merit. When their feud has ended, I fully expect there will be compromise, with parts taken from each to make the whole. Until then, I show respect to all parties by refraining from premature judgments.”
“Perhaps your wisdom is unmatched in such troubling times,” Micus admittedgrudgingly, it seemed to Aliisza, “but Tyr’s law on this matter is clear and not subject to interpretation. These… these intruders,” he said, gesturing at Aliisza and Vhok, his distaste punctuating every word he spoke, “have broken those laws by their very presence here! Justice is absolute in this case, and there is no room for debate. Were Helm able to perform his duties properly, you and I would not even have need to discuss this. Justice already would have been meted out.”
“And yet he cannot,” Tauran countered, “and I suggest that it is by corrupt design. I dare not speak more here, but I ask you to trust me. Extenuating circumstances exist with regard to their intrusion and should be weighed before judgment is rendered. Let their story be heard, Micus.”
The other deva grimaced. “I’ve known you and called you friend from time immemorial, Tauran, but I think you tread in dangerous places now. I fear your wisdom is lacking in this
instance, but because you have asked it of me, I give you my trust. I pray you do not suffer for it.”
With that, the deva gave a curt nod in the direction of the three half-fiends and turned away. With one graceful leap, he took flight, launching himself out into the raging storm beyond the perimeter of the mystical place where the rest of them stood. The other two creatures, as if sensing his intentions, kicked themselves aloft in mirrored motion, following behind Micus. The trio disappeared into the churning, purple clouds.
The moment the three interlopers had gone, Kaanyr spun to stare Kael down. “Don’t you ever lay a hand on me again, you son of a mongrel. I will slice it from your arm if you do.”
The half-drow blinked his garnet-hued eyes once and said in an even tone, “Please try. So much good would come of ridding the world of you. I welcome the opportunity.”
“Kael,” Tauran said, moving between them. “Vhok still has a part to play in this. Reign in your killing lust for the moment, please.”
The half-drow stepped away and returned his attention to adjusting the straps of his armor.
“And you,” Tauran continued, turning to face the cambion, “you would do well to remember to hold your temper in check while visiting the Court of Tyr. Don’t make it more difficult than it already is for me to maintain your status as a guest here. Until we can convince them otherwise, most citizens of the Court, like Micus, will perceive you as an invader.”
Kaanyr scowled. ” ‘We’? I have no intention of convincing anyone of anything. That’s your game, not mine. When you were bargaining with Micus, you forgot to consult with the bargaining chip. I never agreed to go anywhere with you or tell anyone my ‘story.’ “
Tauran nodded. “Of course. Forgive me. I should not have presumed.” He turned and began to pace, clasping his hands behind his back in a studious manner. “Based on your stance, then, I trust that you would prefer to be considered a deadly intruder to be slain on sight. Is that correct? Please let me know in no uncertain terms how you wish to be treated, so that I might inform the folk of the realm. Once they hear of your unwelcome entry into our Court, they most likely will be lining up for the chance to slay you.” He turned back to Vhok and gave the half-fiend a level stare. “So? What say you? Bargaining chip or outlaw? The choice is yours.”
Vhok’s eyes narrowed, and Aliisza saw his hand twitch, hovering over Burnblood. When Tauran didn’t react, Kaanyr relaxed his posture and folded his arms across his chest. “Entice me,” he said with that same smug sneer Aliisza was growing tired of. “What do you have to offer me besides your supposed protection from harm, in return for my cooperation?”
“Why, your freedom to return home, of course,” Tauran replied with all sincerity. “The portal through which you traveled here has flown away, it would seem, and you will not get far hunting for another.” Vhok’s expression changed only subtly, but Aliisza could tell he was admitting to the veracity of the angel’s comment. “All I ask for in return is that you travel with me back to the Court and explain in exacting detail everything you know about Zasian, his intentions… all of it.”
Kaanyr scowled at the mention of the priest’s name. “Not as much as I believed, obviously,” the cambion muttered half to himself. “His deception was thorough.” Vhok straightened again. “But your offer is not strong enough to convince me to admit as much before a court of sniveling wretches such as yourself.” He stepped closer to Aliisza. “I think we’d rather
take our chances finding our own way home, without aid from you.”
Aliisza sidestepped away from Kaanyr and turned to face him. “Remember what you just said about bargaining chips, and the follies of not consulting with them?” she asked.
Vhok’s face darkened in anger. “You would betray me for this… this angeli” he snarled, waving his hand toward Tauran dismissively. “That is not the Aliisza I know. Perhaps Zasian’s spells of shielding did not work as well as he promised. The simpering celestial’s magical coercion has changed you after all.” The cambion adopted a dismayed expression. “He lied about everything else, why should I have expected him to be truthful in this?”
Aliisza ignored Kaanyr’s shallow tactic. “He’s not the only liar,” she shot back, letting that simmering anger erupt at last. “You deceived me, you bastard,” she said, shoving her chin up a bit in defiance. “You let him weave spells upon me, let me become hunted and caught, let me suffer an angel’s ‘healing ministrations,’ all for your own gain! You put my child, a child I didn’t even realize I bore, in danger!” She gestured toward Kael, who had stopped studiously ignoring the whole proceeding and was now watching the two fight with an implacable stare.
Kaanyr snorted in derision. “A child that was not mine!” he said. “The moment I’m out of your sight, you’re tumbling between the sheets with a drow wizard and who knows what else!”