The Crystal Mountain

by Thomas M. Reid

  And with magic behaving so erratically, who knows what’s even still true anymore?

  Another jostling bump made her stumble a step toward the border of their safe haven. She caught herself easily, but the glance she got beyond the confines of the ruined rotunda startled her.

  The argent void had vanished, replaced by a shimmering curtain of color that rippled all around them. The strange multi-hued veil blocked the alu’s view of anything else. It flashed and shifted, and it reminded Aliisza of the first moments after she had regained consciousness.

  A storm of magic, she thought, frightened.

  Then the curtain was gone, and they were falling.

  The bubble was no more, and the Astral Plane had vanished. In its place, brooding red sky met black water at the horizon. The rotunda, reduced to a collection of unstable stones no longer held together by the planetar’s magic, began to crumble apart as it tumbled toward that murky sea.

  Zasian shouted in alarm.

  Aliisza used her wings to rise up and hover, then she whirled to see the priest flailing as the floor beneath his feet broke apart. He, along with the three comatose figures he had been tending, became four more bits of debris falling from the sky. Near them, Micus thrashed and howled as his prison careened downward with him still trapped inside.

  In a panic, Aliisza shot forward, winging toward all of them, desperate to save them.

  Before she had time to contemplate the consequences of her act, she conjured magic. It began as a welling of energy deep in her gut, a swelling of power that blossomed and burst from her. The ominous blue glow accompanied it, swathing her surroundings in azure light. She sought control of the potent energy, shaped it and guided it, all the while bracing herself for the pain she feared would accompany it.

  Aliisza created an invisible surface beneath the four tumbling figures. It held them aloft. At the same time, she willed the magical cage surrounding Micus to vanish. The abomination took flight, veering away from the ruined chamber. The remaining stonework of the ruined rotunda plummeted away, reduced to little more than a rockfall.

  Pain and sickness filled Aliisza’s limbs. Intense cramps wracked her muscles, and she nearly curled into a ball from it, fighting the urge to retch. She panted from the agony. She thought of releasing the arcane energy in order to bring blessed relief. Can’t let them fall, she thought, gritting her teeth and fighting the urge.

  Micus soared past Aliisza on his mismatched wings. He glared at her, hatred filling his eyes. He still had Myshik’s powerful war axe, and he gripped it tightly as he swooped by. Aliisza watched him bank into a wide turn. He was coming around for another pass.

  To her left, a tremendous splash threw inky water in a torrent into the air. Some of the cascade drenched Zasian and the others. When the waves subsided, a great mass floated within the darkened sea. Aliisza thought it looked like a huge man, but she couldn’t take the time to get a good look at it.

  Kaanyr, hovering upon his own innate magic, descended into view near her. “Can you get them to shore?” he asked, pointing.

  Aliisza looked to where he indicated and saw a rocky stretch of gray beach not far from where they all hung in the air. Fighting the exertion of maintaining her magic, she nodded. “Just keep Micus away from me,” she gasped.

  She guided the invisible platform toward the beach. Zasian crouched upon it, hands and feet splayed apart for balance. He looked at her, wide-eyed with fright, then he whipped his head around, staring at everything else. The three prone figures remained sprawled at his feet.

  Kaanyr unfurled the magical cloak he had acquired in Dweomerheart and pushed himself forward into flight. He angled his direction to head off Micus, who had climbed to a higher altitude and was starting a dive toward them. Aliisza wanted to watch the impending clash, but the pain racked her body too much. She clenched her eyes shut to fight it and focused all her concentration on getting the rest of them to safety.

  Flying behind her conjured conveyance, Aliisza steered the magical surface to a bare spot of beach and set it down as gently as she could. Even with her efforts, though, her control faltered from the pain and sickness she felt, and the arcane platform winked out when the figures upon it still sat a few paces in the air. They all went tumbling to the soft sand in a heap.

  Aliisza dropped to the beach nearby and crumpled, retching. Gods and devils, she thought as she emptied her stomach. Must … never … do that again. She panted for a moment until both the pain and the ominous blue glow subsided. When her stomach ceased heaving, she flipped over onto her back and caught her breath, staring up at the carmine sky.

  Blood red clouds roiled across it, churning and obscuring whatever sun lit the place. A hot, foul wind blew over the gray sand, carrying a stench of something decayed with it. A vague sense of distaste, something strange yet oddly familiar, filled Aliisza’s senses.

  Kaanyr settled to the ground beside her and furled the magical cloak. He knelt down next to her and placed his hand upon her shoulder. “You look awful,” he said, his tone gentle. “There’s something you are not telling me, Aliisza. What is it?”

  Aliisza shook her head. “I’ll be fine,” she said, surprised at how weak her voice sounded.

  Kaanyr’s face grew stern. “Don’t lie to me,” he said. “This strange power of yours is killing you. I want the truth.”

  She tried to give her consort a defiant stare, but his expression never wavered. “Very well,” she said at last, closing her eyes in defeat. “I’ll tell you what I can. Just let me rest a bit, first. What happened to Micus?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “Gone,” Kaanyr replied, “but not for long, I fear.”

  “Good,” Aliisza said, thankful for even a brief chance to rest. “Just give me a moment.”

  “We may not have a moment,” the cambion said.

  When Aliisza opened her eyes again and looked up at him, Kaanyr was staring at something in the other direction, down the beach. She stood and peered that way, too.

  In the distance, a small band of beings moved toward them. Aliisza squinted and saw the muscle-bound ebony creatures spread broad, leathery wings and take flight. Wicked black horns sprouted from their heads, and they waved vicious weapons overhead as they closed the distance. Whatever they were, they were spoiling for a fight.

  The hulking beasts followed a somewhat smaller but no less fearsome leader, also black and winged, although its body shimmered as it flew, the effect of shiny black scales. A tail fluttered behind it.

  Aliisza swallowed hard, recognizing the source of the foul ambience of the place at last. “Devils,” she murmured. “Not good.”

  “Hey!” Zasian said from behind Aliisza. “Look!”

  She turned, expecting to see that Zasian had spotted the same group of interlopers, but the priest pointed in the opposite direction.

  The black waves of the sea had pushed the form of the great human figure Aliisza had seen before up onto the beach. The figure was indeed a man, though larger than any giant Aliisza might have imagined. The top of his head, resting on the gray sand, appeared so gargantuan that she imagined it rising fully three times her own height. A bedraggled, graying beard covered his wizened face, and his once-fine clothes marked him as noble.

  Or a god, Aliisza thought, suddenly terrified, for she recognized that face from her vision within the Eye of Savras.

  Azuth.

  Is he slain too? she wondered. Can such possibly be? What is happening to the universe?

  Aliisza turned away. Somehow, looking upon the face of a god, even one that might be dead, hurt. “We need to go,” she said, trying to rise. “Now.”

  “I agree,” Kaanyr said, standing beside her and still looking at the gargantuan deity, “but where?”

  “Anywhere. Let’s just get off the beach.”

  “How are we going to move the others?” Kaanyr asked. “We’ll never outrun those fiends trying to carry them, and there’s no way you can muster that magic trick again. You’re exha
usted as it is.”

  “I’ll just have to,” she said.

  “No,” Kaanyr said, grabbing her shoulder. “Don’t.”

  “What choice do we have?” she demanded. A part of her beamed at his concern.

  Kaanyr looked at her helplessly and shrugged.

  “Very well, then,” Aliisza said. She grimaced as she prepared to conjure the magic once more. She dreaded the pain and suffering. For a moment, she wasn’t certain she could muster the willpower to subject herself to it again, but all it took was a glance down at Tauran and Kael’s still forms to convince her. She drew a deep breath and braced herself.

  A howl from a ridge of rock higher up the beach interrupted her.

  A second horde of creatures swarmed into view.

  Dozens of muscular, pasty-skinned humanoids took flight on matted feathered wings. Aliisza could see three red eyes blazing on each of their faces, and rows of sharp teeth filled their gaping mouths. Each thick arm ended in a deadly barbed claw that reached and grasped ahead as the creatures swooped toward the oncoming black-skinned fiends.

  A crimson-skinned humanoid with a howling, feral-eyed hyena head led the newcomers. A snake protruded from the side of the monster’s neck. The creature held a massive axe aloft as it screamed a war cry and commanded its charges to attack. He spoke in a language Aliisza understood all too well.

  “Demons,” she breathed. “Where in the blazes are we?”

  The white-skinned things outnumbered the ebony fiends two to one, and they flew at the other creatures, who appeared just as eager to join the fray. In a matter of moments, the sky above the six castaways swarmed with white and black bodies clashing, screaming as they fought and died.

  The crimson demon rushed to attack its own counterpart, the scaly-skinned devil. They slammed into one another with a vicious clang of weapon on weapon and became embroiled in a fierce battle of their own, whirling and slicing at one another as the war between their subordinates raged in the background.

  For the moment at least, neither collection of fiends paid any attention to the six castaways sitting on the beach below.

  “It’s the Blood Rift,” Kaanyr murmured, staring at the fight in awe. “How did we end up here?”

  “What difference does it make?” Aliisza said, scrambling to her feet. “Once the fight’s over, whoever wins is going to turn on us. We must leave!”

  As if to punctuate her point, one of the ebony devils darted out of the swarming maelstrom and swooped close to where Zasian and the unconscious bodies of Kael, Tauran, and the planetar lay. The priest shrieked and cowered. The devil pulled up and hovered, staring down at the still form of Tauran. Recognition gleamed in his eyes, and he gave a shout of triumph as he drew his trident back for a killing thrust.

  At that moment, two of the white demons swooped in and bowled the devil over. He went tumbling through the air and flopped into the shallow water along the shore several paces away. The two white demons jumped on him and shredded him with their claws. Black blood and chunks of flesh spurted and flew everywhere as they rent the devil. When their prey was nothing but a pulpy mess, the two demons took to the air again and went back into the battle, seeking new opponents.

  “Come on!” Aliisza said, conjuring a magical doorway. She hardly noticed that the outline glowed a deep blue instead of the familiar red. It matched the emanation shining from her own body. “Push them through!” She bent down to hoist the planetar up and carry the celestial through her portal. “We have to get out of here!”

  Kaanyr shook his head as Aliisza instead staggered, overwhelmed by the gut-wrenching sickness that slammed into her. “It’s no use,” he said, pointing. “The fight’s over.”

  Aliisza coughed and nearly vomited, but she managed to peer in the direction Kaanyr showed her. The demons were all but finished with the devils. The last few black-skinned creatures were down, overwhelmed by the pasty, hairless fiends. To one side, the crimson hyena-headed thing slammed its axe into the shoulder of its foe, taking the devil’s arm off. Another stroke removed its head. When its enemy fell dead, the demon turned and sped straight toward the six stranded observers.

  “Then you’d better hope,” Aliisza said, crumpling to the ground and gasping for breath, “that they’re interested in negotiating.”

  Kaanyr cocked his head to one side. “That’s not a half-bad idea,” he said.

  The crimson demon settled to the sand in front of Kaanyr. His white-skinned followers gathered around them and formed a circle to prevent anyone from escaping.

  Beside Aliisza, Zasian curled up into a tiny ball and cowered.

  “You are far from home, lord,” the crimson demon said. “And you consort with wretched angels.” The demon pointed at Tauran’s form. “I shall enjoy flensing you for your treachery.”

  “Do that, and your own lord will gut you like a pig and roast your innards. I come with important news.”

  “Come?” the demon asked, looking at Kaanyr warily. “Why here?”

  “We are lost, trying to return to the Abyss. Help us, and you shall be rewarded.”

  “Lies,” the crimson thing said, smiling. He looked to his underlings. “Let us feast upon their tender flesh!”

  “I have been to the angels’ plane,” Kaanyr said, backing up a step as the demons closed in. “I have spied on them. They are fools, and I know where they are weakest.”

  “Kaanyr!” Aliisza growled under her breath. “Don’t!”

  “Hush, fool alu,” Kaanyr whispered back. “I know what I’m doing!”

  “Tell me,” the demon leader said, “and I will let you live.”

  “Oh, no,” Kaanyr said. “It is for your master’s ears only. Kill me, and he will not receive my report, and you will be the one he punishes for it.”

  The demon cocked his head, considering. The snake growing from his neck writhed and hissed. Finally, the red-skinned beast nodded. “Very well,” he said. “We will take you to meet Her Eminence. And when she has finished torturing you for everything you know, I will teach you not to speak to me in such a manner.”

  With me!” Garin shouted at three archons following him through the forest. “It went that way!” He pointed toward a tangle of underbrush. One of the surviving demons had plunged through a narrow gap in the snarl of brambles and weeds, fleeing the angel and his servitors. Garin could hear the wretched thing crashing through more distant foliage, and the faint smell of its stench still hung in the air.

  Garin pushed himself aloft, soaring upon his wings over the barrier of undergrowth. He spotted the demon farther ahead, its pasty pale flesh glowing in the gloaming light. The creature forced its way through a stand of saplings, snapping smaller branches and sending a hail of leaves fluttering to the ground.

  The three hound archons with Garin worked in unison, using their innate magical abilities to teleport ahead. They surrounded the demon in the blink of an eye and closed in. Garin tried to glide closer, to aid them in destroying the fiend, but he got his wings caught up in a low-hanging branch and had to drop to the ground to free himself. He turned in place, drew the branch free from his feathered appendage, and released it to snap back up over his head.

  A flash of light burst behind Garin, from the direction of the archons and their quarry. It filled the forest with an instant blaze of blue. The flare vanished just as quickly as it had come, replaced by a howling, chill wind. Stinging fragments of ice rode upon that gale, and a roaring storm filled the forest.

  Garin brought one wing up to shield his eyes and staggered away from the wind. He sought shelter on the leeward side of a large tree and crouched, pressing his hands to his ears. His heart pounded in his chest. He was certain that he would, at last, succumb to the magic run amok.

  After the initial violent burst of sleet, the storm settled to a dull roar. Snow mixed with the ice pellets and coated the ground. The air became more frigid and a deeper darkness settled over the forest. With every passing moment, the certainty of his death seemed to recede,
so Garin opened his eyes and peered through the maelstrom. The angel couldn’t make out more than the nearest trees, themselves already rime-coated.

  Emboldened, the angel rose to his feet and took a few steps in the direction he had last seen the others. He stared hard into the gloom, hunting for the spot where the three hound archons had surrounded the demon. He listened for signs of the creatures. The howl of the wind filled his ears, but he detected nothing else. A few steps brought him to an abrupt end of the world. The ground, the trees … everything simply stopped. He stood upon a precipice, and beyond, he saw only storm.

  Damn this insanity! How much longer must this go on? How many good soldiers must we lose?

  Garin offered up a quick and forlorn prayer to Tyr for the three servants. He beseeched his lord to lend his deific strength to the land, to bring to an end the devastating magic tearing the House apart.

  Then Garin turned and trudged back the way he had come.

  He found the hike much easier with the wind behind him. He dismissed the notion of flying, and he refused to use magic to shift elsewhere when soldiers under his command might still need his aid. He wasn’t sure where he was going, exactly—he could see little beyond a few paces and certainly no distinguishing landmarks—but he knew that those loyal servants of Tyr had been fighting all through the woods, and he trusted that he would come upon them in due time.

  From the angel’s left, the faint sound of a branch snapping accompanied shadowy movement. Garin spun and barely dodged the thrust of a massive black sword with coarse, fractured edges. The fiend wielding it stumbled forward, over-balanced in the expectation of connecting with its strike. Garin took two quick steps back and swung his heavy mace at the fiend’s weapon, knocking it to the side. The wind muffled most of the clang of metal on metal.

  The demon, a bulbously fat green thing with slavering fangs and webbed fingers, looked to be more at home in fetid swamps than snow-bound forests. It had a hard time getting traction on the icy ground and slipped down to one knee.