Finally, with a visible effort to relax, she said, "You say I have the right to choose, yet I cannot draw my blade and run you through. Nor can I run from this chamber and take flight, flee from this place that stinks with the same arrogance and rigidity that oozes from every follower of your blind god in the world beyond. You say I have a choice, but I cannot seem to change my mind now. What must I do to earn the freedom to die on my own terms, fighting my way clear of you and your condescension?"
Tauran gaped at Aliisza, surprised at her change of heart. He had sensed in her a true desire for mercy, a genuine need to ask forgiveness, even if she didn't understand it herself. But she had shifted away from that, he saw, had reverted to her more demonic nature, unrepentant and defiant even in the face of death.
The chief of the tribunal seemed to shine more brightly than before, as though righteous anger lent him radiance. Tauran knew that the solar was doing more, though. The creature was probing Aliisza, searching the depths of her emotions to find the core feeling hiding behind her outburst.
"That is not what is in your heart," the chief declared at last. "Your maternal instinct holds you back, pushes you to survive, to persevere in the face of inescapable doom. You speak in rage against the tribunal only because you are also conflicted by your feelings. And…" the solar paused, tilting its head to one side. "You are jealous of the attention we have given to your progeny. Ah, now I see why you fight with yourself."
Aliisza glared at her judge, but she kept her mouth shut. Tauran waited, wondering how the Court would proceed. The alu hadn't actually asked to be freed from her agreement. If she had, the Court almost certainly would have granted it-and immediately proceeded to destroy her, right then, within the Great Hall. She would wither and die, and the spirit of her child would become a petitioner, serving for eternity within the House of the Triad. But she had not asked for her release, merely put forth conjecture and asked hypothetical questions.
After the silence had grown almost interminable, the solar spoke again. "Do you wish to be free of your agreement? It is your choice to make, though you know the consequences of your decision."
Aliisza shook her head. "No, damn you. I cannot." Her voice was tight, breathy, and Tauran could see that a single tear ran down her cheek, but her eyes then hardened in some form of resolve. "For whatever reason, the human side of me has decided that I must protect my baby against such a fate." She drew in a long breath and at last said, "I freely and willingly submit to your judgment and sentencing. Spare me so that my child may be born and live."
Tauran wondered at her determination. He suspected that she still sought a means of outwitting him, of escaping her predicament. He knew her nature, her cleverness, and expected that she would fight him for quite some time before realizing she could not break free of her own oath. By then, of course, it would be too late. She did not know what was coming next, but he did. He dreaded her reaction when she learned.
The solar waited a moment, letting Aliisza's words echo through the chamber. Then he spoke one last declaration. "It is the decision of this court that your conscious mind shall be divorced from your body and imprisoned within a dimensional sanctuary. Your body will be placed in stasis while the offspring comes to term and is born. At that time, the child will be taken elsewhere to be raised and your body will return to the dust from whence it came. Your spirit will remain in the dimensional sanctuary for a period of one year, where you shall reflect upon your wicked ways in the hope that you find a conscience and a desire for forgiveness for your crimes. If, after one year has passed, you are found worthy of redemption, then your mind shall be set free and given a new form, one that is more suitable to your glorious nature. If not, then your consciousness will be cast into merciful oblivion as due punishment for your unrepentence. In no event shall you have any future contact with your child. So sayeth this court."
Aliisza made a strangled sound, and her eyes blazed in fury. That fury turned to horror as she realized what she had been sentenced to. Her terrified scream echoed through the chamber, making Tauran's ears ring.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Aliisza's chest ached. She couldn't breathe. The words of the celestial judges' decision sent shivers of horror through the alu, made her heart pound, made her gasp. It took her a moment to realize that the ear-splitting shriek was her own voice, wailing in dismay. They intended to deny her from ever seeing her child. The whole judgment had been one big trap.
Aliisza could not understand why such a condition would anguish her so, but the thought was pure anathema. She could not be parted from her body, from her child. It must not happen! The notion sent roiling panic through her, made her contemplate dropping to her knees and begging for mercy. That consideration stunned her. She named herself coward for it, but it didn't change a thing. She would do whatever was necessary to remain with her unborn.
Before the alu could draw breath and plead her case, the surroundings changed. She and Tauran were no longer standing in the Great Hall with its cavernous space and echoing sounds.
She suddenly felt very alone, disconnected from everything. At first, she thought she had closed her eyes, but she couldn't make them open. Yet, she could see. Everything around her was a gray void again, limitless, bereft of any distinguishing features. The alu could sense no up or down, as before.
But it was different. She was a part of the void, not just within it, but also distinct from it.
At least, for a moment.
Then the sense of existing, of being, faded.
When next Aliisza became aware, she was in a cool place, dim but not dark. She seemed to be floating on a bed of air, staring at nothing. She tried to focus on her surroundings, to gain some perspective on where she was, and in that flash of mental desire, she was lying in a room very much like the one she had been sequestered in when she and Tauran had first arrived at the Court.
Initially, Aliisza thought she was there again, for the place was familiar, yet some things seemed vague to her. Images at the corners of her eyes were indistinct, fuzzy, fading to nothing whenever she looked away. And it seemed objects were missing, things she couldn't quite remember but knew should be there.
After a moment more, Aliisza understood. She was creating the chamber, forming it from her memory. She was manifesting a reality, but her memories of the room were imperfect, incomplete, for she had not spent much time there. With that realization, the whole of the place began to waver, to shimmer and disappear.
"Easy," came a voice nearby, all around. It was Tauran. "Give it another moment."
Another moment for what? the half-fiend wondered.
Then she felt a sense of vertigo. The inexact, incomplete chamber spun. Somewhere, somehow, she sensed Tauran take her hand in his, and a surge of relief went through her, a feeling of stability, and all at once, they were standing together in the fully formed chamber.
Aliisza was in her natural form, dressed in black leather armor that molded to her curves in a most provocative way. Her sword hung on her right hip, the magical ring that protected her from physical blows was in its familiar place on the third finger of her left hand, and the ring that had belonged to Pharaun encircled the fourth finger of her right hand. Her other trinkets and the pouch of magical components for spells were there, too.
Tauran watched her intently, wearing that faintly wistful expression again.
Aliisza pulled her long sword and sliced through the celestial before he even reacted. She watched him flinch but was dismayed to see that the sword passed right through him without affecting him.
"Bastard!" she screamed.
The alu raised her hand, pointing at him. She uttered the words of a common spell, conjuring a trio of magical glowing darts that shot from the tip of her finger. The darts streaked directly at Tauran, but they vanished as they struck him. The angel didn't flinch.
"You can rot in the Abyss!" she screamed, furious at feeling so inept.
She spun away and ran toward the balcony. She char
ged through the opening and launched herself up in the air. Her wings spread wide, Aliisza took flight, soaring up into the heavens, which were filled with billowing puffy clouds glowing orange in the late afternoon sun. She pumped her wings rhythmically, gaining altitude, putting distance between herself and her tormentor as fast as she could.
As before, there was no ground, only an endless expanse of clouds. She kept the Court, resting atop its flattened mountain, behind her, setting a course directly away from it.
I did it, she thought. I slipped away before they could imprison me, before they could separate me from my child.
The alu wondered if she could escape the plane entirely. She had no idea how, and she wondered how long it would be before Tauran sent pursuit after her. She didn't care. She was free, at least for the moment, and she would never let them take her captive again.
She glanced over her shoulder and nearly stopped flying in dismay. The great structures of the Court were still there, no farther away than they had been. Somehow, she had failed to put distance between herself and the mountaintop.
She snarled and went into a dive, plummeting into the cloud cover, which stretched away in every direction as far as her eye could see, like an endless gossamer plain. Deeper and deeper she went.
Aliisza pulled up and hovered for a moment, listening.
There was no sound. She could see nothing except the gray glow of the cloud all around her. The coolness of the moisture chilled her skin, made her shiver. Slowly, she began to descend again, under control this time, swooping at a gradual rate.
The clouds did not end.
Frustrated, Aliisza began to climb. Almost immediately, she popped through the top of the billowing haze into open air. She had not traveled far at all.
No escape, the half-fiend realized in a panic. Trapped here forever. No!
Aliisza launched herself upward, folding and unfolding her wings for all she was worth, climbing higher and higher, soaring as far above the glistening stone of the Court as she could. Still she climbed, afraid to look down, knowing what she'd see as soon as she did.
The air grew thin and much colder, and the sky began to deepen. The first stars appeared overhead, and Aliisza chose one, began to fly toward it, still climbing, flying. Anything to get away from the accursed palace of Tyr.
When she looked down, the island was still there, though it had become somewhat smaller. But Aliisza knew she couldn't escape it. In despair, she cried out, screamed. Her voice spread out into the ethereal nothingness that seemed to surround the cruel imitation of the Court, diminishing quickly.
The alu felt utterly alone.
With a sob, she folded her wings upon her back and let herself plummet. She would rather die than remain trapped in such an insidious, horrible place.
Myshik stood in a cool foyer. The half-dragon blinked, adjusting to the sudden shift in surroundings. His father, Roraurim, had explained to him the gift Uncle Nahaunglaroth had bestowed upon the cambion, but to witness it firsthand was stunning. Even standing within it, the warrior had difficulty accepting what he saw.
Slabs of polished onyx striated with deep red, almost purplish veins made up the floor. Columns of deep red stone rose to support a second-floor balcony. Torches burned at intervals upon the columns and the walls, set in black iron sconces and giving the chamber a warm, inviting glow. Several plush carpets woven in intricate patterns lay in various places upon the tiles. Tapestries and sculpted artwork adorned the walls and corners of the room. Several other doorways led deeper into the interior, and twin spiral staircases ascended to the balcony along either side of the rear wall.
Zasian stood in the center of the room, looking around with a smile upon his face. The half-dragon could see why.
Two rows of servants, all beautiful human women with lustrous black hair and emerald green eyes, stood in lines facing the front entrance, smiling. Each had a unique appearance, and all wore gauzy dresses that revealed more than they hid.
"How is this place possible?" Myshik asked, his tone breathy with awe and excitement.
"Pocket dimension," the priest explained, strolling to a wall and studying a tapestry more closely. "Something of a magical mansion, actually," Zasian added. "All of this shapes and forms itself around the cambion's whims. Whatever he imagines comes to be. Quite the clever little sanctuary, don't you think?"
"Indeed," Myshik admitted. "Is it safe? Can we get back out again?"
Zasian shrugged. "Safe enough," he said. "Certainly more hospitable than out there, but if you fear being trapped, then by all means, step back through," he added, gesturing behind the half-dragon toward the entrance.
Myshik turned and stared back the way he had come. The shimmering curtain still rippled there like a pool of water, only vertical. As he watched, Vhok appeared, stepping through the wavering surface.
"Welcome to my humble home-away-from-home," Vhok said as he gestured at the doorway. The shimmer vanished, leaving a stone wall in its place. The cambion moved toward one of the staircases leading to the second floor. "It ought to ease some of the stresses of our journey considerably." He began to climb the stairs. As he did so, he issued a series of orders to the magical servants, sending dark-haired beauties scurrying to tend to various tasks. Vhok instructed some of them to begin preparing a hearty meal, while others were to serve the three of them as personal attendants.
Three of the women moved to accompany Myshik, who stood before the blank wall where the magical doorway had been, testing it. It was solid from edge to edge.
"We're quite safe in here," Vhok said from the balcony, casting a last look down at his two guests. "I've closed it to keep other things from wandering in. We'll open it in the morning."
Myshik nodded and turned to face the cambion.
"I need a good soak and an intense massage, and I imagine you'll find some tasks for your attendants, too," Vhok said with a lascivious smile. Then the cambion turned away, stepped through the double doors at the top of the stairs, and disappeared as the twin portals closed, his attendants in tow.
Myshik cast a glance at Zasian. "Where?" he asked. "Which rooms are which?"
The priest shrugged, still grinning, then turned to one of the maidens gathered close to him. "Which room is mine?" he asked the woman.
The attendant never stopped smiling, nor did she answer. She simply kept her gaze on the human, as though expecting something.
"Oh, wait," Zasian said, snapping his fingers. "I've got it." He looked directly at the attendant. "Show me to my chambers," he instructed. Immediately, the woman turned and led the way toward a door off the foyer, opening it and beckoning gracefully. Zasian nodded. "You have to frame everything in the form of a command. They're magical servants, can't speak. But they'll do anything you tell them. Enjoy!" he chortled, then vanished into his quarters.
Left alone with his trio of handmaidens, Myshik considered for a moment, then issued a command for them to show him his chambers. Once inside, he peered around. The room was decorated in a fashion similar to the foyer outside, with the same polished marble and granite. Tapestries and rugs covered most surfaces, and lamps gave off a warm glow. A magnificent bed sprawled against one wall, covered with fine-spun white linen, and a pool filled with steaming water occupied a corner. A writing desk stood nearby, a set of bookcases next to it.
Myshik glanced at the women who accompanied him. "Assume a form more pleasing to me," he instructed, and smiled as the servants shimmered and transformed before him into three gorgeous half-draconic humanoids.
Myshik became conscious of an odd sound. A tiny bell tinkled somewhere in the chamber. The half-dragon had been dozing upon the bed of his guest quarters, having sent the trio of servants away. The bell invaded his dreams, startled him. He sat upright, feeling for a dagger he had slipped beneath one of the many pillows.
The draconic hobgoblin peered around the room, hunting the source of the sound. He spied the bell, hovering in midair above the writing desk. Myshik rose and approa
ched it cautiously. The bell's ring was a sweet, delicate sound. The half-dragon reached out to grasp the handle.
The instant his hand made contact, the ringing stopped and the bell vanished. Kaanyr Vhok's disembodied head hovered in its place.
Myshik frowned and brandished the dagger. What is this sorcery?
"Oh, did I wake you?" the cambion asked, smiling. "I am truly sorry. Would you care to join us for dinner? It's about to be served."
Myshik lowered the dagger. "An odd way to send an invitation," he commented.
"Quite," the cambion replied. "But I love parlor tricks like that. So, are you ready to dine? It all smells delicious."
"I am," Myshik said. "Where?"
"Ah, not to worry, Blood of Morueme," Vhok said. "I will send a girl to fetch you."
Vhok's face vanished and Myshik sensed that he was no longer alone in the room. He turned to find one of the magical servants standing near the doorway. She waited, a faint smile on her face.
Myshik took a moment to refresh himself and dress, then commanded the servant to lead the way. When he emerged from his rooms and followed his escort to the dining room, the savory scents of roasted meats, seasoned vegetables, and fresh, hot bread hit him. His mouth began to water. The handmaiden guided him through the doorway beneath the balcony where the stairs met overhead. Beyond that portal, Myshik discovered a large, cloth-covered table surrounded by high-backed chairs. Zasian and Vhok had already set into the food, which was heaped high and steaming upon platters.
More food was laid out than a dozen people could finish, but that didn't stop the three travelers from trying. Myshik particularly enjoyed the braised pork loin with mustard sauce and the goose liver pate smeared liberally on thick slabs of crusty bread. A handmaiden stood nearby and kept the three diners' mugs filled with dark ale.
After sampling the varied fare, the trio slumped in their chairs while the magical servants cleared the dishes away and brought a new onslaught of platters and bowls filled with every kind of dessert. Puddings and fresh fruit soaking in clotted cream mingled with delicacies made of spun sugar and hard sauces. Iced wine with fruit juice accompanied the treats.
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