“The bubble no longer seems to be shrinking,” he said. When Aliisza did not answer, he turned to find her kneeling over the prone form of Kael. The sight made him grimace. Would she be that concerned over my injuries, he wondered, or has Tauran filled her head with too many foolish thoughts of nobility?
Despite his anger, the image of her worrying over him pleased Kaanyr. There was a time, not so long ago …
Memories of the sultry alu, teasing him as she nursed him back to health after some battle or another, filled Kaanyr’s mind. She had always managed to find creative ways to keep him in bed, he recalled with a chuckle.
But now perhaps she’s the one who needs healing, he thought. Despite her assurances that she was fine, Kaanyr could see her pain, had seen the bizarre blue glow that had radiated from her. He knew her too well to believe her dismissal.
She’s not telling me everything. I’m not sure she knows what’s going on herself. Just one more outlandish thing to add to the list. Either the multiverse is going mad, or I am.
“He’s dying,” Aliisza said, her voice cracking. “We must do something.”
“Do?” he asked. “Neither of us is a healer. That wound … Don’t take the sword out.” He regretted his words immediately. If only I could get her to do something foolish, he thought.
His hatred of Kael seethed to the surface again, and Kaanyr imagined killing the fallen knight of Torm. He struggled against the compulsion placed upon him by Tauran, but the angel’s magic stayed his hand.
“Zasian can heal him,” Aliisza said. “Find him.”
Zasian! Kaanyr had almost forgotten about the priest, with the commotion of the huge astral kraken and then Micus’s strange appearance.
An outlet for Kaanyr’s anger had presented itself.
“Oh, I’ll find him,” the cambion snarled and reached for his sword. “I’ll gut him!”
“Wait!”
Kaanyr ignored her and stalked off, hunting for the man who had become his mission, his sworn enemy. It wouldn’t be hard to find the priest; the gleam emanating from his body was still the only source of light in the ruined chamber, other than the odd silvery illumination from beyond the rotunda’s walls.
Aliisza reached Kaanyr’s side, grabbed his arm, and tried to slow him down. “You cannot do this! It isn’t him anymore!”
Kaanyr jerked free of her grasp. “Your mind is addled, fool girl,” he said. “Between the bilge you spew about gods slaying one another and all the time you spent suffering from the angels’ tender mercies, I’m not surprised Zasian has you so befuddled. But I still see him for what he is—the last barrier between me and freedom.”
They found the priest. He knelt on the stone floor on one side of the chamber, hunched over the unmoving form of another figure. It took Kaanyr only a glance to discern that the unconscious one was the green-skinned planetar that had given Kael and him such fits outside, in the corridor.
Before everything went to pieces, he thought. Before Aliisza fouled it all up by bringing Micus here.
Zasian saw Kaanyr approach. He flinched as the cambion raised his sword, ready to do the man in. “Wait!” he pleaded. “I didn’t do anything! He’s still alive!”
“The Hells you didn’t!” Kaanyr shouted. “You damnable priest, you double-crossed me so many different ways, it makes me dizzy to think on them. Now you will pay for it!”
Kaanyr drew back his arm, preparing to deliver the death strike.
Aliisza grabbed Kaanyr’s arm and held it. “Don’t,” she said, her voice low and angry.
“If he dies, the bubble will pop,” Zasian said, cowering. “I’m doing my best. Please don’t kill me!”
Kaanyr wanted to yank his arm free, wanted so desperately to vent his frustration and anger upon the pathetic, cowering priest who had been the source of so much trouble. But something made him hold.
“He’s right,” Aliisza said. “He’s the only thing keeping us all alive at the moment. All of us. Harm him, and you put Kael and Tauran in jeopardy. If you can’t believe that he’s lost his memories, than at least accept that.”
Kaanyr could see the glimmer of smugness in her eyes. He understood what she was trying to do, and he tried to block it out, but the thought was already there. Her words took hold of him, stayed his hand against destroying the priest. If what Zasian said was even remotely possible—if the priest’s efforts at keeping the planetar alive were the only thing between everyone within the remains of the rotunda and oblivion—then dispatching the priest meant putting Tauran and Kael at risk. Tauran’s magic denied him once more.
The cambion narrowed his eyes in fury at Aliisza’s treachery. He wanted to smack the alu and drive her from him, but he merely yanked his arm down in disgust. “You’re just not content unless I’m squirming in misery, are you?” he said, turning away. “What a fine mess you made of this. Just when Tauran, Kael, and I were on the verge of finally defeating this wretch, you burst in with Micus to muck it all up. And now, when I can finish this once and for all and be rid of angels and half-drow and priests of Cyric forever, you weave me into a snare impossible to untangle! I’m beginning to think you loathe me, wench.”
“It’s the only way to get through to you, you bull-headed idiot!” Aliisza retorted. “You’re so damned eager to let blood, you never think. I’m beginning to wonder why I try so hard.”
Kaanyr’s eyes bulged. “Try? Is that what you call it? So far, everything you’ve tried has caused me untold trouble. And if I so annoy you, just leave! Quit making my life so complicated and just go!”
Aliisza stared at the cambion with a mixture of fury and sorrow and said nothing for several moments. She pursed her lips and glared at him. He thought she was on the verge of crying.
Wonderful, he thought. She’s going to become a weeping mess again. “What?” he asked, his voice softer. “What are you trying to prove?”
The alu drew in a long breath and took hold of both of Kaanyr’s arms. “First,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, “I never meant to betray you. You must understand that.”
“Then why in all the Hells did you bring Micus?”
“Because a battle here was just what Zasian wanted. He needed the distraction so that Kashada could steal Azuth’s staff. That’s the vision I saw in the Eye of Savras.”
Her voice sounded so earnest, Kaanyr wanted to believe her. He suddenly felt guilty. “Why didn’t you come back sooner?” he asked. “Tauran wouldn’t wait, and I—”
“I don’t know. Just know that I hurried to you as fast as I could to try to stop you.” She looked down, then, sounding defeated. “I wasn’t fast enough.”
Kaanyr began to understand. “But you believed it strongly enough to work with Micus to stop us?” he asked. “You were willing to surrender to our enemies just to keep us from realizing your vision?”
Aliisza nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I didn’t want to, but it was the only way to reach you in time, to stop you. I have hated myself for it every moment since then.” She gave a forlorn laugh. “And despite my betrayal, it all happened anyway.” She turned and gestured at their surroundings. “Everything is destroyed. We’re lost, adrift who-knows-where. And he”—she pointed at Zasian—“has the only means of keeping us alive right now.”
The sight of the man still boiled Kaanyr’s blood, but he saw the wisdom in his consort’s words.
“So save your vengeance for when the rest of us are safely somewhere else,” Aliisza said.
Kaanyr sighed. “So be it,” he said, making up his mind to see the whole thing through. “If what you say is true, then all we need to do is get Tauran awake and on his feet. Once he is recovered, we resolve this.” He glared at Zasian. “I don’t trust you. Whatever games you play, I will be watching you.” He turned and strode away, slamming his blade back in its sheath.
Garin surveyed the woods from his perch upon a branch high above the forest floor. He listened for the sound of upheaval, but for the moment, all was quiet.
Smoke wafted through the trees below him, thick black stuff that stung the angel’s eyes and made it difficult to see more than a few paces. Much of it came from the remains of the trees that had already burned, guttering embers that lay strewn all along the coarse, loamy ground. Some, however, spewed from the odd chasms and fumaroles that kept splitting the earth.
Below Garin, several hound archons waited, watching. They sniffed and coughed occasionally, but they were dedicated to their duties and would not leave their posts. One turned in his direction and gave an all-clear signal. The angel acknowledged the gesture then swung his gaze out across the treetops in search of other devas. He spied a few, watching as he did from the crowns of their own trees. Their expressions were every bit as wary and dire as his.
This cannot go on much longer, Garin thought. Tyr must regain some control over the region soon.
A howl came from nearby, a haunting sound nothing like the call of one of his faithful archon servants. Garin whipped his head and stared through the smoke, trying to spot the source. Below him, the hound archons stirred, raising their weapons.
Something came crashing through the trees, stampeding along the forest floor. Garin could feel it vibrating all the way up to where he sat.
“Get ready,” he called down. “Hold the line.”
The archons directly below him shifted, setting themselves.
The trees on the periphery of Garin’s vision shook and thrashed in a course directly toward him. As the thing drew nearer, he got a better look at it.
What he spied made him catch his breath.
A huge bear made of plants and vines burst through the foliage and charged the hound archons. It was not the largest specimen Garin had ever seen—not nearly as massive as the one he and Micus had found slain near that spot when they had been pursuing Tauran and the half-fiends—but the grotesque way the backlash of magic had warped the creature made the angel cringe.
Madness, Garin thought. Magic has fallen into madness, and it’s taking the whole plane with it.
The angel spied several eladrin caught up in the growth that formed the creature’s body. They appeared as a jumbled mess, with arms, legs, and heads poking out at random directions. They weren’t merely entangled with the creature. They had somehow been fused with it. Garin could see vines piercing the chests, thighs, and even mouths of the hapless eladrin. When he did spy a face, the expression of horror and misery made his heart weep for them.
The nearest hound archons exchanged nervous glances as the warped beast rushed closer. One or two took a step backward.
“Steady,” Garin commanded. “It’s almost caught.”
When the creature got within ten paces of the closest of the hound warriors, the trap sprang.
Concealed netting ripped up off the floor of the forest. It engulfed the creature, wrapping it and confining it. The net closed tight, hoisting the beast up off the forest floor and sending it swinging lazily back and forth between the stout trees.
Garin sighed as the beast howled and thrashed. Thank Tyr it’s just a small one, the angel thought.
He leaped from his perch and glided on feathered wings to the ground, near the front ranks of the archons. He offered a few of them praise and encouragement for their service. As the other angels landed near him, he began issuing commands. “See what we can do to aid those trapped within it,” he said. “And we must try to spare the beast too, if possible.”
The other angels and their archon assistants nodded and began their work. The process of separating creatures from the bizarre fusing they had experienced required both physical and spiritual efforts. The celestial creatures would be at it for quite some time.
A lantern archon appeared a pace away from Garin and hovered there. “My pardon, holy one,” it said, “but your attention is needed—”
The glowing ball’s last words vanished in a roaring blast as wild magical energy surged through the forest all around them. Garin launched himself skyward as the ground tore apart. Curtains of color slashed across huge swaths of ground, shredding soil, tree, and creature alike.
Not again, Garin thought as he maneuvered to escape the deadly fields of raw arcane force. Please, Tyr, stop this madness!
Below Garin, several archons screamed and went silent. The rest managed to teleport themselves out of harm’s way. The rippling, shimmering walls of magic churned across the landscape, tearing apart the forest like some terrible multi-hued tornado. Garin sped away from what he thought of as the “edge,” where the astral shock waves slamming into the plane steadily consumed, bit by bit, the reality of the House of the Triad.
Just as abruptly as the outburst began, it stopped. In its wake, acres of the world had been obliterated. Where forest once vanished into the haze of distance, it simply ended. A roiling, rumbling barrier of silvery-blue clouds shot through with crackling deeper blue lightning marked the border between the House and … whatever lay beyond.
By Garin’s estimation, the forest ceased to exist nearly half a mile from where the portal to the World Tree once stood. The waves of energy had chewed up that much of the land. He hated to think of what the other side of the gate was like.
If this keeps up, there won’t be anything left of the House, Garin thought. Surely Tyr must know this!
A small voice in the back of the angel’s mind began to question whether Tyr was, in fact, capable of stopping the horrific waves of destruction crashing against the plane. Garin chastised that voice and silenced it. Tyr knows what he is doing, even if you don’t.
Garin turned his attention back to the aftermath before him.
Hound archons and other devas moved through the woods, seeking some sign of others in need of help. Based on the initial reports, they had lost several of their number—four or five hound warriors and two devas—as well as the corrupted bear.
“Garin,” a voice called from behind him.
He looked up and back and spotted the lantern archon. “Yes?”
“As I was reporting before, your attention is needed farther south, along the Springflow Trail. It appears to be even more urgent now, after … that upheaval.”
“I’ll get there promptly.”
A cry of agony rose up from the distance. The lantern archon vanished. Garin turned and sped in the direction of the forlorn sound.
A hound archon had been caught in the whirlwind of magic. The tumult had melded him with a tree. His face, arms, and feet protruded from the warped, twisted trunk. The creature was still alive, but Garin was uncertain for how much longer. The tree had become animate and was expanding, threatening to engulf the archon, to absorb him.
Angels and hound warriors worked feverishly to halt the growth of the tree and save their companion.
“Take over here,” Garin ordered one of the devas. “I’m needed elsewhere.”
The other angel turned his attention to the desperate rescue.
“And be careful,” Garin added as he went aloft. “If another of those arcane maelstroms erupts, get everyone out of here.”
The other angel nodded and returned to the task at hand.
Garin soared above the treetops, opting for a higher view of the terrain as he sped toward his new problem. To his right, the great wall of roiling Other continued to churn.
Garin spied another maelstrom nearby. He increased his speed, angling to get near the storm without getting so close that he was in danger of being affected by it. The veils of color and light sliced through the forest like a barrage of whirling blades. Everywhere they touched, reality changed.
We’re losing this fight, Garin realized. We cannot slow it down.
Shoring up his resolve, he dived toward the place the lantern archon had indicated. He could already see another crew of devas and archons scattering before the churning, obliterating maelstrom. Garin sought out the commander.
The fleeing angel heard Garin’s shout and changed his course. They met in midair, well back fro
m the surging power of the wild magic. “It’s too much,” the other angel said, panting. “That’s the fourth one just since I sent word to you. We can’t do any good here.”
Garin gave the other angel a stern look. “We have our responsibilities,” he said, chastising the deva. “You will hold your position and work to cure the damage done until you receive new orders. Is that clear?”
The other angel glared back. “You would sacrifice us all to this madness just because that was the instruction handed down to us? You’re as foolish as Tyr himself.”
Garin, dumbfounded at his counterpart’s insurrection, could only gape.
“Perhaps Torm has a more level head on his shoulders and can think of better ways to use those loyal to him. If you wish to die needlessly, then you and your rigid commands are more than welcome to do so. I leave you to it.” With that, the deva turned and flew away.
Garin watched the traitorous angel depart, sadness filling his heart. Please act soon, Tyr. Your followers begin to abandon you. Hope is dwindling.
Below him, another eruption of magic roared. He looked down to see the very land turn inside out, blossoming like some bizarre, nightmarish flower. When the upheaval abated, a strange seedlike object twenty paces across bobbed in the ground as though it sat upon the surface of water.
Several archons approached the peculiar object cautiously. As they drew near, it shimmered and shook, then began to crack along the top.
“Get back!” Garin screamed. “Stay away!”
He soared closer, yelling at the remaining celestials to stand clear. He had no idea what it might be, but he would not sacrifice more of his followers until it was necessary.
The seed-thing split in two, each half flopping to the side. A horde of vile creatures from some nether plane spilled out, accompanied by a gagging stench. Their pasty bodies oozed pus and drool dripped from their slavering fangs. They gibbered in delight, chattering to one another in some fell tongue Garin did not understand. They raised wicked weapons—dark, serrated blades and barbed, blood-soaked hooked polearms—and screamed a challenge.
Demons, Garin realized, stunned and sickened. Demons in paradise. It cannot be.
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