"Please help him," she whispered.
“Avari,” Brok said, startling her from her daze, “you can help me here. Hold his lower body still while I twist his upper body back into place.”
“Right!” she replied, and she carefully laid herself over the leotaur’s lower body, holding it tight. “It’ll be all right,” she whispered, though she doubted he could hear her.
Brok reached his burly arms around Hufferrrerrr and locked his hands behind the leotaur’s back. “Ready,” he said to Shay, and slowly he turned, realigning Hufferrrerrr’s upper body with the lower, all the while whispering soft prayers to Thotris. Shay, chanting his own prayers to Tem, held his holy symbol to Hufferrrerrr’s back. Hufferrrerrr’s eyes glazed over, and Avari thought for a moment that the life was departing from their depths. But the effect was transitory, and soon they gleamed again. He took a shuddering breath, and his lips flushed pink. For several minutes he remained on the floor, heaving breath after deep breath, twitching his feet and limbs as if testing them. Finally, he sighed heavily.
“How are you, Huffer?” Avari asked fretfully.
"I was in most terrible distressedness,” he answered, “but I am feeling much the better now. How can I ever being of the thanking you for this most enjoyable method of helping to save me from dying?"
Avari realized that she still lay atop the leotaur, and scrambled off, feeling the leotaur’s purring laughter deep in his body before she stood back.
Shay smiled and stood. "Try to stand, Hufferrrerrr. Careful now."
Gingerly, Hufferrrerrr pulled his legs beneath himself, then eased up off of the floor. He twisted his upper body back and forth.
"Everything is in the seeming of fineness, Master Shay and Master Brok." He lashed his tail for a final test. "Yes! I am being much in the thanking of you both. But it is now of the time for tracking again." He bent to the ground and sniffed, then trotted down the corridor at a much more careful pace. His companions all followed, warily watching and ready.
"Sir!" shouted a lookout. "The boats’re turnin' away!"
DoHeney dealt a furtive coup de grâce to an adversary who was grappling with a priest from Refuge, then looked over the side of the ship. Indeed, the black boats were drawing away. Onboard DoHeney’s Dream, the fighting eased as the remaining foe were killed or jumped overboard. Cheers erupted from dwarf and human alike at the unexpected reprieve. But DoHeney’s ear caught a high-pitched keening beneath the celebratory hollering.
“Quiet!” he called. He looked to the black boats and saw their masters whipping the slaves to row faster. “Why would they be leavin’,” he muttered to himself, “unless...” He heard another keen, and yelled for the lookouts to keep a sharp watch.
“Above, sir! Above!”
All eyes looked up, and groans replaced the cheers.
“By the Delver’s whiskers!” DoHeney cursed. “Ready the catapult and crossbows! Take cover!”
And the new foe, grotesque flying creatures mounted by more Dark God minions, swooped down like giant birds of prey.
CHAPTER 36
Hufferrrerrr stood before the closed door, his tail thrashing. The rest of the companions spread out as Avari positioned herself close beside the leotaur. Yen reached for the handle, but stopped at Voncellia’s raised hand. She whispered her spell, and the handle turned silently. At Yen’s nod, she flicked her fingers and the door opened. From inside there came a short sound, like a cry cut off, then the patter of running feet. Avari stepped in, immediately followed by the others.
How do these people get around without any lights? Avari thought irritably as she strained to see by Gaulengil's faint green glow. She moved forward, then cursed quietly as she cracked her shin hard on a low stone table. Beside her, Hufferrrerrr hissed a low chuckle and looked at her, his enlarged pupils bright against the darkness as they reflected the green-tinted light. She scowled at him, knowing he could see her quite well.
An eerie green radiance brightened as they rounded the corner into the adjoining chamber. There, they stopped in their tracks. They stood at the entry to a large room, the walls hung with grotesque tapestries depicting the Dark Gods. The room was bare of furnishings except for a long stone table surrounded by chairs. The chair at the far end of the table was taller and more ornate than the others, and behind this chair was a closed door. Beyond the table extended a broad balcony large enough to hold dozens of people. The walls of the low parapet surrounding the balcony were etched with glittering runes. But it wasn’t the balcony or runes that left them aghast, it was the view beyond. A black cyclone, encased in a gleaming green skin, whirled down through the fortress core.
“The Void essence,” whispered Feldspar.
A chill ran up Avari’s spine, and she shuddered violently.
“The essence seems to be contained by a shield—the green barrier you see—rather like water in a funnel. At the bottom must be portals to the dark cities.” The awe was evident in Feldspar’s voice as he stared, transfixed by the sight.
“It’s all done with rune magic!” Voncellia said, pointing to the glowing symbols that covered not only the balcony walls, but also the walls of the core. “This is the most intricate design I've ever seen!”
“We are not here for a discussion on magical theory,” Lynthalsea said quietly. “We are here for her.”
Across the room a woman stood at the edge of the balcony, her dark robes blending in with the thick drapes bunched by the wall. She stood erect and held her head high as she glanced toward them, a haughty expression on her face. Though she might once have been beautiful, her pale skin was now tinted green with the glow of the vortex shield, and dark smudges beneath her eyes hinted of deep fatigue.
Avari took a sharp breath; it was her. Her dreams of Jundag’s tortures flashed through her mind, and her face flushed hot with rage. Her vision narrowed and her mind seethed until only one thought remained: I’m going to kill her. Growling deep in her throat, she raised Gaulengil and stepped forward.
“Calmarel...” she snarled softly.
“Avari, no!” warned Yen as he tugged the back of her shirt. “The baby...”
“Avari!” Calmarel exclaimed before she could stop herself. The opening door had roused her from a fitful doze; she had supposed that the mediator or her servants were returning. Dashing into the council chamber, she had assumed her stance on the balcony while devising an explanation for her presence here. Then she had heard that name—Avari—the name Jundag called in his direst moments...the name she loathed.
Her twinge of fear at the sight of the woman advancing with a naked blade dissolved into scornful satisfaction at the confused look on Avari’s face when she heard Calmarel utter her name. She relaxed even more when Avari stopped and reluctantly allowed the man beside her to press down her hands, lowering the huge enchanted blade.
“Just as I thought!” Calmarel said with a sneer. “You let men decide your actions for you. Jundag was right to abhor you!”
The people who faced her—an odd variety of races, but definitely all surface-worlders—looked blankly at her, though Avari’s eyes had blazed at the sound of Jundag’s name. Of course, she thought, they would speak the same gibberish that Jundag spoke before the spell of translation was placed on him. Perhaps I can use this to my advantage; distract them long enough to summon soldiers.
“You’re too late!” she said as she advanced slowly, sweeping a hateful gaze along the line of intruders, then locking her eyes with Avari’s. “I don’t know how you managed to breach the shield and gain entry to the citadel, but guards will soon be here to take you prisoner. Then you’ll know the wrath of the mediator!”
She continued ranting, not caring that they could not understand her, just trying to keep their attention on her face and not her actions. Just another moment, she thought as she worked her way around the table. If I can just make it to the mediator's chambers...
Opening the doors without the mediator’s consent would trigger the wards, summoning guards. But as Calmar
el inched toward the head of the table, Avari mirrored her moves on the other side of the table. Several of the tall woman’s companions moved as if to help, but Avari called sharply to them, and they stopped and simply watched.
Finally Calmarel reached the mediator's chair; the door was mere steps away. Bracing herself, she lunged for it, but even as she stretched her hand out toward the latch, Avari slapped the flat of her blade against the lintel, effectively blocking the portal.
Calmarel's temper flared. Without thinking, she snatched her flail from the ring at her belt and whipped it right at Avari’s head. Her arm jolted as the demon-forged flail met the silver lightening of Avari’s blade. The green gem in the sword flared, blinding her. She backed away, swinging her weapon defensively; it felt inexplicably lighter. She blinked to clear her vision and saw the deadly spiked whips of her great weapon lying upon the floor, still writhing like vipers in their death throes. Slowly, their movement stilled.
She dropped the useless haft and stepped back again. From the corner of her eye, she saw the tall intruder with canine features whispering and holding out some kind of icon: a priest. A nervous shiver shot up her spine, but again...no attack. Her contempt for these trespassers grew. Though armed, they don’t attack, and when attacked, they just stand there, she thought incredulously. A tiny mew of hunger met her ears, and she realized why her foe held off; they would not attack while she held the baby.
I’ll get out of here yet! she thought, and began her distractive tirade once more as she edged away.
“If you’re trying to rescue Jundag, you’ve failed,” the vile woman boasted. “He’s dead, and I must say it was quite a painful death. He cursed you at the end, Avari. He damned your soul to all the Nine Hells.”
Avari started; how odd it was to suddenly understand the language that only a moment ago had been gibberish. But she had heard Brok whisper his invocation, and realized that the prayer must allow them to understand one another. She forced down her impulse to gut Calmarel for her hateful lies. Revenge alone was not her goal here; they were after the baby, which was tucked into the crook of Calmarel’s arm.
“Jundag’s not dead, Calmarel!” she answered, pleased to see that she startled the woman by understanding her words. “And it’s not me he hates; it’s you.” She laid Gaulengil on the floor and stepped over the blade, holding her empty hands out before her. “I loathe you for what you did to him, but I’m willing to forego revenge if you just give me the baby.”
If Calmarel looked startled before, now she looked shocked. She stared at Avari, then wildly at her companions.
“My baby!” she cried, then barked a near-hysterical laugh. “Why would I ever give you my baby?”
“Because it’s Jundag’s baby, too,” Avari said, trying to dispel the vision of Jundag coupling with this fiend. She swallowed hard. “He loves her, and he asked me to save her.”
“Save her from what?” Calmarel spat. “I’m her mother! She’s under my protection.”
“But how long can you protect her in your world,” Shay asked in a soothing voice as he stepped cautiously forward, “when your unholy powers have been revoked?”
Calmarel shot her gaze to Shay and stepped back again, tightening her arm around the child. Avari took another step while Calmarel’s attention was on Shay, but the woman saw the movement and backed several steps onto the balcony.
“Stop!” Yen called. “Beware behind you!”
Calmarel shot a quick glance back and stopped; the parapet was close behind her. She instead sidestepped along the edge of the low stone wall.
“You think to protect my child by taking her to your world?” she taunted. “Even as we speak, your world is dying!”
“Not for long,” Avari countered. “This fortress will soon be destroyed, and everyone here with it.”
“Hah!” Calmarel twisted her face in contempt. “And how do you intend to destroy the citadel?”
“We don’t,” Avari said with a smile. “Jundag will. He has all four of the cornerstones. He’ll use them to destroy this...citadel. And you’ll die with it.”
“I’ll never give up my child,” Calmarel promised. “If I die here, then she dies with me!”
Calmarel deliberately turned toward the parapet, repressing a smile. These people were even easier to manipulate than that foolish Grimlord Gorgoneye; they spouted information like a fountain. She refused to believe that Jundag was still alive; she knew death, and he was so near to it when she left him, he never could have survived long. They have a priest, taunted the voice in her mind. He could have healed him. No, she quickly dismissed the thought, he is dead. Besides, the gem she boasts of is here in my— She stiffened as she patted the pocket where she kept the ruby that had destroyed Iveron; it was gone.
Jundag! she cursed silently. He stole it!
Uneasy now, she reviewed her options. She could not return to Xerro Kensho, not bereft of her powers, and if the citadel was doomed... Thinking fast had always been her forte, and lying came easy. Though it disgusted her, it seemed her only chance to survive was to accompany these people to the surface world. Given time, she would find her way back to a more accommodating world. She quickly stepped to the parapet.
“Wait!” It was the elf woman’s voice. “Please, Calmarel, do not be foolish. We can offer you sanctuary.” Avari started to protest but was hushed. “We will guarantee your safety and the child's, if you agree to come with us away from here."
Ahhh, there is the offer. These people so fear death, they even keep their enemies alive. Fools! Calmarel composed her face before she spun around.
"You would never honor such a promise! She," she pointed violently at Avari, “would never honor that promise! How can you guarantee my safety?"
"I promise," Avari said through clenched teeth, “that I won’t harm you if you give us the baby.”
Calmarel relished the obvious pain it gave the other woman to say these words. She backed up until she felt the parapet cold against her legs. Twisting her face into a false rictus of fear, she stared wildly at Avari.
“How can I believe you?”
Avari extended her hand. "The only guarantee I can give is my word of honor. If you truly knew Jundag, then you know what honor means in our world." She took a step closer, now only an arm’s length away from Calmarel.
Calmarel flushed with triumph, though she presented an expression of fearful consternation. These fools would save her and her daughter, and one day she would repay them in the most painful way possible. She reached out a trembling hand, and her voice quavered.
"I accept your offer, but only―"
Calmarel’s words were lost in a furious roar of pain and the sharp crack of fracturing stone.
Jundag exchanged glares with Grimlord Gorgoneye. Gorgoneye’s mien was hateful and his words brash in front of his sister, Druellae, but Jundag spied the fear in his eyes when he glanced into the temple. Jundag laughed and waved and made rude gestures, inciting the grimlord to order another volley of arrows shot through the temple doors. Like the previous arrows and spears—and the mediator—they disintegrated at the plane of the doorway. The pile of ash was growing.
“Warriors!” the grimlord commanded. “We will exhaust the magics of this spell by overwhelming it. Attack!” Six warriors shuffled toward the doors, and at their master’s command, charged toward Jundag, weapons leveled and ready. But the power of the cornerstones vaporized them all in a flurry of ash.
“Is that the best you can do, Gorgoneye?” Jundag taunted. “Do you not have a champion that you can send to face me? Oh, but I bested your champion, did I not? Well, send all your troops in to kill me...if they can!”
The grimlord flushed with rage and turned to summon more troops, but his sister shot him an ill-tempered glare and waved her hand dismissively.
“Don’t be stupid! He taunts you to get you to waste our troops. We cannot fight this foul magic. Summon slaves!” she commanded. Druellae approached the door—but not too closely.
“Lysethra’s fate has already been determined!” Jundag called back. “I killed her!” He jerked a thumb toward the body.
Druellae gasped and retorted, “Slave, you will die slowly on Xakra’s altar for your transgression against a clan matriarch!” But Jundag saw her eyes shine in elation.
“Lysethra already tried that, and look at where that got her; she is dead, and I am alive!” Jundag shouted. “The hells will soon have you all!” He laughed at her furious expression.
The laughter brought on a coughing fit so harsh that Jundag would not have been surprised to see his lungs lying on the floor before him. The air seemed as thick as honey as he struggled to draw breath. He would have liked nothing more than to lie down and fall into a quiet death beyond pain; but he could not allow himself such a luxury. More time, he thought. I must give Avari as much time as possible.
A new sound reached his ear, and he looked toward the doors. The slaves had arrived, and Druellae set them to work. With picks and hammers, they pounded and chipped at the wall to one side of the doors. Jundag sighed. He did not understand the magic that protected the doors, but it seemed that this plan to circumvent the spell might indeed work. With an effort, he resumed his taunting in the hope of drawing more ill-fated attacks, while silently wishing his friends luck.
Phlegothax banked hard, lashing out with his tail as he swooped past a broad balcony. Stone pillars disintegrated into rubble, killing the foes who hid behind them. The dragon roared in triumph and wheeled toward the next balcony, where a single woman stood alone, shouting and gesticulating. She, he thought, will be tasty.
Without warning, a huge net materialized in front of him. He inhaled deeply, then breathed out a bare trickle of fire; his flames were exhausted. Too close to turn, he barreled into the net, and its sticky strands enveloped him, folding his wings flat to his body.
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