Reality’s Plaything Book 5:
The Infinity Annihilator

By Will Greenway

Writers Exchange E-Publishing

http://www.writers-exchange.com
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Reality’s Plaything Book 5: The Infinity Annihilator
Copyright 2008 Will Greenway
Writers Exchange E-Publishing
PO Box 372
ATHERTON QLD 4883
AUSTRALIA

Cover design by: Will Greenway

Published Online by Writers Exchange E-Publishing
http://www.writers-exchange.com
http://www.readerseden.com

ISBN 9781921314766

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation to anyone bearing the same name or names. Any resemblance to individuals known or unknown to the author are purely coincidental.

Contents

Dedication
A Word (or two) About Mythology
Other books in the chronicles of the Ring Realms
What Has Gone Before
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
epilogue
Glossary of Terms
About The Author

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Dedication

This one is dedicated to writers who live in fear of deux ex machina. I say bah! For those who wanted to see the alpha and omega of savants, first ones, and the ultimate aspects of the Ring Realms universe… here ya go. Don’t say I didn’t warn you… because I didn’t. It was high time that the savants of the Ring Realms started kicking tail instead of being beat down. We’ve got it here. There’s a number of firsts in this book for me. It’s my hope that those unique hurdles translate to something memorable and enjoyable for you the reader. May you find what comes after diverting and pleasurable…

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A Word (or two) About Mythology

Welcome to the Ring Realms universe, a cosmology populated by magic, technology, gods, goddesses, and multi-verses. Comic fans will feel right at home, but fandom is not necessary to be drawn into the world’s magic and heroism. Those learned in mythology may see a name (or a score of them) that they recognize. Intentional. In fact, I’ve taken heat for not creating my own gods and goddesses. Key to the point is they ARE my gods and goddesses, and you the reader’s as well. I wanted something familiar to the readership rather than add EVEN MORE bizarre names to the milieu—something that is one of the all-too-common pitfalls of fantasy writing. If you see a name you recognize, rejoice in that knowledge because where possible I have tried to keep to the spirit of those myths whilst incorporating them into a much larger cosmology. Notice, I say ‘spirit of’—please don’t flagellate me (however much I might enjoy it) for not adhering more closely to the source myths. Liberal dramatic license has been taken in order to heighten and enrich the story… Enjoy.

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Other books in the chronicles of the Ring Realms

Reality’s Plaything Series—Tales following the adventures of Bannor Starfist.
Reality’s Plaything
Neath Odin’s Eye
Gaea’s Legacy: Eternal’s Agenda
Gaea’s Legacy: Savants Ascendant
Gaea’s Legacy: Infinity Annihilator

Savant’s Blood Series—Tales following the adventures of Wren Kergatha.
Savant’s Blood: Shadows of the Avatar
Savant’s Blood: Hecate’s Bounty
Aesir’s Blood
Gaea’s Blood

Shaladen Chronicles Series—Tales following the adventures of Corim Vale.
Shaladen Chronicles: A Knot In Time
Shaladen Chronicles: Anvil of Sorrow
Shaladen Chronicles: Who Mourns the Creator

War of the Genemar Series
War of the Genemar: Child of Ascendants
War of the Genemar: The Karanganoi Gambit
War of the Genemar: The Chyrith Agenda
War of the Genemar: Gaea’s Revenge
War of the Genemar: The Infinite Child

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What Has Gone Before

The T’Evagduran family backed by the Felspars, Shael Dal, and Kriar have turned away the assaults of rogue Kriar and Baronians. In order to truly outmatch the naked power of the assault, Advocate Eternal Koass indoctrinates the entire T’Evagduran family into the ranks of the Shael Dal. They, with the assistance of Idun’s valkyries, a team of Kriar elite, and some of Senalloy’s compatriots teach the invading aliens the meaning of resistance.

Meanwhile, on Homeworld, Counsel Marna in order to counter the horde facing her team, has transformed Wren and the other savants into ascendants, who quickly demonstrate their power in battle, driving back a veritable army of heavily-armed attackers.

Defending against the onslaught is only one aspect of the war, and the teams struggle to find a way to end the conflict. Unfortunately, they are only faced with more complications. The Daergons, an insurgent faction of the Kriar, are collaborating with the Baronians, adding not only another front to the campaign but troubling complexities as well.

Driven back but nowhere close to being defeated, the return of the Baronians is inevitable and no-one doubts it will be with a stronger force. The defenders are pondering how they will meet the challenge when yet another set of players enter the fray. Nomar, Wysteri and the twenty-eight Karanganoi mecha of the forward battalion Zersis recently escaped from the Baronians. These new allies offer wondrous new possibilities in the fight, not the least of which is the formidable transforming powers of their healer, Wysteri.

The war isn’t the only thing that’s gotten complex. Things between Bannor, Sarai and Daena get heated. With Sarai nearly taking off Daena’s head after it’s discovered that the young savant has been magically manipulating Bannor.

Turmoil continues to swirl and unease mount as the group tries to rally around a single strategy. It is during this brainstorming that Wren comes up with the idea of taking all of the defenders to see all-mother Gaea to consult with her on what to do.

It is during the reunion with Gaea that the true threat is revealed—the genemar. The alien artifact the Baronians are searching for is a weapon capable of destroying the magic of an entire universe! The same magic which is the essence of great Gaea herself.

Just as our heroes are reeling from this revelation, Gaea jumps yet more on them. She has decided it is time to join her children in the real world. Despite demurrals, the green mother cannot be deterred—it has been decided. The savants must now travel to Starholme Prime, create a body, and participate in the creation of a goddess…

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Chapter One

I didn’t have the slightest inkling of what
I was looking at, but it sure was wizard…
—Arminwen Janai T’Evagduran,
2nd Princess of Malan

Bannor pulled Sarai closer as he and she, along with the rest of the sixteen members of their group, gawked at the huge creature that had greeted them. Even wearing the body of an ascendant, Bannor still felt puny compared to Hyperion. In fact, the ancient reminded Bannor a great deal of the Baronian coven dreadnoughts. Marna had mentioned that she felt that the first ones had been meant to fight the Chyrith and their creations the Baronians. The first one was strong evidence to support that theory. Looking around the green chamber, he felt the incredible potential humming in the walls. His bones vibrated. Magic filled this place. Somewhere in the heart of it was Gaea.

The group spread out, gazes locked on Hyperion. The ancient first one took a broad stance and put its hands behind its back. He said and did nothing more. Though one couldn’t tell, Bannor felt sure those glowing green eyes were tracking their movements.

Apparently unafraid of the creature, auburn-haired Daena walked right up to him and stared up into his glowing eyes. After Kell’s enhancements, she stood head and shoulders above most men, and looked anything but skinny. Compared to Hyperion she looked like a child. “Sooo…” Daena drew the word out. “This is a first one? Dang, I feel like a skinny runt.”

Bannor saw Hyperion’s gaze focus on her, but he didn’t do or say anything. Only the slightest creasing in his brow indicated that he had understood her words in any way.

“Well, I guess you’d say he’s half of one,” Wren remarked. “He never merged with his tao. Over the millennia I think the pantheon lords continued to get more massive, so they started storing that extra mass in those flux stones. Then they didn’t need to look like this anymore.”

Glowing blonde Idun, who stood next to Wren, tilted her head. “That’s quite a package.”

Wren’s gaze followed where her grandmother was looking. Her cheeks colored. “Nonna! I swear—you and Des…”

Bannor saw the first one’s eyebrow raise. It did seem to understand what they said after a fashion. It either didn’t care or simply had no real response. “Wren, the pantheon lords, they aren’t—like this. He doesn’t seem to have much self-will.”

“No,” Wren shook her head. “See, Nonna’s ancestors were another step more evolved than Hyperion here. No offense to him, they were smarter. Unfortunately, they were so smart that they didn’t want their consciousness subverted by the alphas. It’s been a lot of generations since then, and as you can tell,” she rubbed her grandmother’s shoulder. “They’ve become their own people. Some of them decent, some who need their arses stomped.”

“Fascinating,” Marna said walking around Hyperion from a safe distance. “It’s hard to believe they were brilliant enough to develop a vessel this sophisticated, yet not anticipate the creatures rebelling.”

“I don’t buy it,” Cassandra said also studying him from several steps away. “It’s too fundamental. Something else must have happened. The designers designing too well is a convenient theory, but if I were making something like this—and you just did for Wren and the others—you put safeguards in place. The whole lot of them just get up and walk out; one or two maybe, but all of them? That’s sabotage or something similar.”

“Gaea doesn’t seem to know,” Wren said with a shrug. “Or maybe doesn’t want to tell. One of her children may have lost it and decided to doom the others. Shiva, from what I feel of him in that sword Mon’istiaga—he was a lunatic.”

“Power corrupts,” Loric murmured.

“I’m pretty darn strong right now,” Wren said. “I don’t feel this wild urge to destroy everything.”

“It doesn’t happen in every creature,” Euriel said looking up at her mother. “But it does happen—over and over…”

“Odin is an arsehole,” Bannor murmured.

Daena laughed and pointed at him. “I was thinking that exact same thing!”

“I don’t think you’ll hear much argument from our family,” Vanidaar growled. “I felt that censure was far too lenient.”

“Well, we’ve wasted enough time,” Wren said. “Let’s go. This next part is where you’ll be impressed.” She turned to Hyperion. “Hyperion, authorization granted to proceed to the commune chamber, please pause at the intersection in the nexus shaft and await further instruction.”

The massive first one focused on Wren, glowing eyes blinking. <Confirmation: orders recognized and understood. Proceed?>

“Hyperion, continue,” Wren acknowledged.

The ancient turned on its heel and boomed away toward the depression in the center of the chamber and started down the steps.

“Whoa Wren,” Ziedra lauded. “It’s almost like you know what you’re doing.”

“Ha ha,” the Kel’Varan said sticking out her tongue at her friend.

The group trailed after Wren as they proceeded down the steps toward an archway. The moment they put foot on the steps Bannor felt a cold draft on his face, and the hair on his arms stiffened. The immense power of the place continued to increase as they proceeded down. The acrid thunderstorm smell grew even stronger, along with an echoing crackle. As they hit the bottom step he saw through the opening what looked like a twisting column of light. Gigantic cords of red, green, and blue energy twining around each other.

Bannor heard Idun, then Daena, then Ziedra and Radian all gasping as they stopped a short distance inside the archway. He and Sarai reached the place on the far side where a circular landing opened out onto the edge of a vast pit more than a thousand paces across. A walkway ten paces wide and two others from the far side of the titanic chamber extended out over the drop to a central platform more than a hundred paces across. Hanging from those seemingly thin rods of metal a giant blister of clear material surrounded the outpouring of energy. Inside that chamber a rainbow of colors reflected and sparked. Smaller shafts of glassy material, all glowing with alien magic, ran out from this hub into parts of the shaft above and below them. As Bannor looked up he realized there was no ceiling. The chamber seemed to go up to infinity.

Hyperion, oblivious to the stunning scenery stomped out onto the bridge. The laced strands of metal crisscrossing the surface clanked under his heavy feet as he proceeded out over the daunting drop.

Wren moved out onto the walkway a few steps, waiting for the entire assemblage to file onto the platform. “This is what Hyperion called a nexus shaft. Starholme Prime has sixteen of these things. Those big colored streams… that’s magic. That huge flood of energy, according to Hyperion, is only trace usage.” She looked over to Daena. “When we use our powers, it comes from that.” She pointed to the colored streams.

Cassandra walked to the edge and looked down. “Damn,” she shook her head. “The amount of magic is insane.”

Marna stepped up beside her and looked down. “There are bigger shafts than this on Homeworld, but they were built with machinery. Also, they do not transmit magic.” She shook her head in wonder. “The potential is truly staggering.”

“So, Wren,” Loric said, coming up behind Cassandra and putting an arm around her. “This is where the energy came from that defeated Hecate?”

The blonde savant nodded. “There’s some kind of thing that beams the magic straight to you when you focus on it.” She pointed to the colored stream. “When we’re just ordinary savants, our bodies aren’t strong enough for that. Apparently, a certain amount of the nola magic is just broadcast across the universe, and we tap into it.”

“That doesn’t seem right,” Bannor said. “I always trace our savant threads back to their source in Eternity. Our power comes from that.”

“Right, and this thing apparently dumps the magic into whatever it is that we draw our powers from. I don’t claim to understand it on anything more than a rudimentary level. I just know that in a kick-arse form like the one I’m in now,” She raised a hand. A white glow spread around her fingers and down her arm. From deep in the bowels of Starholme something vaguely like moans echoed and warbled into silence. The cords of light twisting around in the shaft brightened and began to dance with more speed.

The savant’s body started to glow, and Bannor could feel heat coming from her. Gusts of air swirled around Wren and her hair flicked around her face like something alive. The Kel’Varan’s glowing blue eyes turned brilliant white like stars. Threads of energy began gathering around the woman’s body, the numbers doubling every instant.

Bannor swallowed and his heart started to beat fast. Did she have any idea of what she was doing? Sarai pulled tight against him.

“Uh, Wren,” he said, holding out a hand. Already there were tens of thousands of threads, enough power to reduce a mountain to sand. “Wren.”

Cassandra’s mouth dropped as it seemed that she too feared the savant wouldn’t stop. She waved her arms. “Wren! Enough demonstration! Please!”

The savant let out a sigh and dropped her hands. The glow around her faded. “Mmmm, that feels good.”

“My heart hurts,” Loric gasped, gripping his chest.

Marna and her daughter Dulcere stared. Bannor saw Dulcere reach out and take hold of Corim’s arm. The burly warrior looked down where she had taken hold and smiled to himself.

Octavia the physician leaned to one side and studied Wren with a furrowed brow. She didn’t seem frightened by the immense display of power, only fascinated by it.

Idun stared at her granddaughter. “It is virtually limitless. All that power and you barely even made that thing over there react.”

“Yeah,” Wren said. She rolled her shoulders and twisted her head side to side. “Whew, feel light. I hadn’t tried to really push what this body could do.” She bounced up on her toes and stretched. She looked back toward the column of light. “Did you guys really think I would blow myself up?”

Ziedra snorted brushing back her dark hair. “Oh, I think it occurred to oh—all of us.”

Wren giggled. “You know me. I always have to test the edges of the box.” She looked to Desiray. “That’s what my mistress taught me.”

Desiray had her arms folded. “In this case, your mistress would prefer you do as I say rather than as I do.”

The Kel’varan rolled her glowing eyes. “That’s no fun. Anyways, now you see why I had to lock this place up. Imagine what could be done with it.”

“I have,” Marna said with a frown. “I worry more about what you can do with it.”

“Marna, what would I do with it?” She put an arm around Idun and pulled her close. “I have everything I have ever wanted right now.”

“Everybody grows up some day,” the elder Kriar said with a flat expression. “Shall we proceed? Hyperion seems to be getting impatient.”

“Impatient?”

She looked out to the end of the walkway to the platform where the ancient waited for them. He had his arms crossed and was tapping his toe.

Wren raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Isn’t he cute?”

“He’s not cute at all,” Desiray growled. “He almost ripped me in half.”

The Kel’varan sniffed. “You shouldn’t have picked on me. Come on, we don’t want him having a hissy fit. I have no idea what that would be like but it would probably be messy.”

She headed out the walkway toward the center.

With his arm through Sarai’s, Bannor stepped out onto the walkway behind Daena and Janai. Being over thirty paces wide the group spread out on the bridge, some gathering toward the middle, others walking near the rail to look down.

Marna was one of those whole strolled along next to the rail with Octavia on her arm. Dulcere stayed next to her mother with Corim at her shoulder. The scholarly Shael Dal warrior seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. Bannor had only spent a little time with the man, a few dinner conversations and battle talk. His curiosity and pursuit of knowledge were insatiable. He could see Corim writing books and papers in his head with every step. Cassandra, the golden mage appeared much the same.

“Your daughter troubles me sometimes,” Damay said, catching up to Euriel and speaking at her shoulder. Hands clasped at the small of her back, the elder Kel’varan tossed her dark hair, white glowing eyes narrowed as she studied Wren walking at the front of the procession.

Euriel nodded. “She spent so much time without direction and being hurt,” she sighed and shook her head. “I think being on the offensive, being in control—it’s really euphoric for her.”

Damay nodded. She rubbed the side of her face with a jeweled hand and let out a breath. “I used to envy that she was Gaea’s favorite. Now, I see how that position drives her. It makes her want to reach further—take on more. Maybe more than she’s ready for.”

Vanidaar put an arm around his wife. “May, I don’t really see what we can do. We have influence, but not the kind of hold that Gaea has on her. She’ll accept only so much advice. And how do you tell a young goddess not to overdo?” He thumped his chest. “It’s these bodies that Marna gave us. It’s tough not to feel a little self-confident.” He shook his head. “I’m no youngster, and I catch myself swaggering a bit. Zee, Wren, lords Daena—they’re children.”

“Really capable children,” Euriel said. She glanced back over her shoulder, her gaze meeting Bannor’s showing that she realized he was listening to their conversation. “I am so proud of Li, at the way she has held together over the summers.”

Bannor leaned close to the three. “Wren will reach, she might even hurt herself, but she learns from it and gets stronger. I’ve seen that just from the short time I’ve known her. She jokes a lot, but it’s just to keep from being so serious she cracks.”

The group reached the center of the span. Intent on the conversation, Bannor hadn’t bothered to look over the edge. It was probably best because a glance down revealed what appeared to be a fall into infinity. The light of the magic conduit lit the shaft down to a point that the lines converged in the distance. A league down? Maybe more.

<Continue?> Hyperion rumbled in a tone that was probably the closest thing to irritation the creature could manage.

Wren looked back to everyone and smiled. “Yes, Hyperion, please continue, there will be no more delays.”

There was the barest hint of a change in Hyperion’s expression. His jaw worked side to side for an instant. He turned and stomped away.

“One of these times, he’s going to slap you,” Desiray said.

“What?” Wren threw up a hand as she walked. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Oh it’s not what you say,” the white-haired guild-mistress said. “It’s the imperious tone you use with him.”

Wren laughed. She leaned toward Desiray. “I only imitated what I saw.”

The older woman flinched back and smiled. “Oh, I’ll get you for that.”

Bannor didn’t get the joke, but the two of them obviously did.

At the end of the long bridge, Wren stopped at another hexagon-shaped panel behind Hyperion. This portal was far more massive than the other they had seen, with giant bolts in the floor and ceiling that secured it. Wren aimed the first one key at it, and colors flashed on the gem.

With a hum and a rumble of metal sliding on metal the bolts retracted, and the giant door split in the middle, the pace thick slabs wheezing as they parted. Warm air wafted in their faces as Hyperion stepped into the widening gap, his feet thumping on the smooth metal floor.

Wren followed as the ancient thundered along. Bannor noticed the other savants flinching as they stepped through the doorway. As he crossed the threshold, he felt a kind of stab in the place where he felt his nola. He recalled getting that same feeling when they had been in the presence of Gaea. They must be getting close.

The corridors here were utilitarian and without adornment, smooth gray walls without even lines of separation, as if the whole area had been carved out of a single gargantuan slab of metal. They came to intersections and other recesses that must be doors, these they passed at a fast walk. Hyperion was taking seemingly random rights and lefts through what must be a vast complex of chambers.

As they moved, that initial ache came back and grew stronger, becoming an uncomfortable pulsing that made halos appear around the objects in his vision. He rubbed the back of his head and winced.

Sarai leaned close to him, strands of silvery hair falling across her face. “Something wrong, my One?”

“Head hurts,” he murmured.

Wren looked back, glowing blue eyes narrowed. “You should all be feeling a kind of ache.” She brushed strands of gleaming blonde hair from her eyes. “It has something to do with whatever is in this part of the complex. Something to do with however Gaea manifests here.”

Hyperion made a right into a corridor that slanted down. The walls went from metallic gray to a greenish marble-like stone. Strange elemental threads ran through the walls here, making Bannor’s skin prickle. He noticed the others looking around in apparent unease as they rushed along.

The passage split twice again, giving them glimpses of chambers where ancient artifices pulsed and thrummed with alien energy.

Hyperion stopped at another huge hexagonal valve and waited for Wren.

The savant turned her head. “Hey, this wasn’t here before.” She aimed her key at it. After a few instants the door split and ground aside for them. Beyond the portal, the passage became a black glossy substance. The black globes that Marna called security nodes lined the passage ceiling.

Hyperion continued, moving at a steady pace.

“Last time we came through here at a run,” Desiray said, looking up.

“Damn, my head hurts,” Daena said, scrubbing at her scalp. Janai rubbed the girl’s back and looked concerned. “Does it get worse?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Wren answered. “Just grit your teeth and bare with it. It will get better in a little bit.”

As they descended further into the area, the feeling did get worse, making it difficult to even walk. The corridor would lose focus for moments at a time. His skin itched and a strange crawling sensation worried at his scalp.

Marna frowned. “What you are feeling is etheral chaos.”

“Hyperion stop,” Wren ordered.

The first one paused and looked back. His heavy brow furrowed.

“Go ahead, Marna, what were you saying?”

The ancient Kriar lady touched the slick green wall with a fingertip, drew it back and rubbed it with her thumb. She pursed her lips. “It appears that this section of the structure actually extends into an etheral subpath. The savants feel it more acutely because of their senses. Our matrixes protect against temporal skewing. Cere, expand your compensation field and I’ll spread mine.”

The two Kriar closed their eyes and the jewels on their brows flashed and a red illumination spread out from them and over the group.

The uncomfortable pulsation vanished. It was like a great weight had been lifted off his brain.

“Oh whoa,” he let out. “I can think again.”

“Nice,” Wren said. “Thanks! Worth stopping for. Hyperion,” she glanced at Desiray. “Please proceed.”

The ancient started forward again as if he had never stopped.

“Major relief.” Sighing, Daena pressed her hands to her face and pushed her palms back through her auburn hair and rocked her head forward.

As they walked, Dulcere looked to her mother. <I cannot recall. Did we ever build any installations in subspace?>

“A long time ago, temporary structures were tested,” Marna answered. “They were considered dangerous and unstable. So research on permanent structures was halted.” Her gaze tracked to their surroundings. “I never saw plans, much less a working model, for something this big.”

“I’m curious,” Cassandra said, dark eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t we feel that when we were inside Gaea?”

“I felt a twinge,” Ziedra remarked. “Just not as strong as here. Maybe she shielded us from it. The way we’re being shielded now.”

“You know,” Loric said putting his hands behind his back as he walked. The elder’s eyes narrowed as though something he had just realized troubled him. “When Marna asked Gaea what she was, she didn’t answer. It begins to occur to me what she really is.”

“What’s that?” Cassandra asked.

“A really smart bomb for destroying universes,” he said with a cold tone.

“Come again?” Cassandra let out with a gasp. “What would ever make you think that?”

“No, I think his rationale is sound,” Marna said. “If I turn my thoughts to something really barbaric, I can see that. Bombs come in two parts, an explosive and a detonator. Imagine, you infect the subpaths of a universe with a replicating creature that essentially subverts the universe’s entire network of time/space energy flows. Then you have a detonator, this thing called the genemar. Activate the device, the creature’s energy and everything associated with it is nullified, and the universe is, for all intents and purposes, annihilated. Of course, like most doomsday weapons, it’s not really intended to be used—but it’s there as a threat.”

“That’s insane,” Wren said looking back as they turned a corner. The passage walls changed with each intersection, veins of different colors running through the black material like arteries in a living body. “Do we really want to think these Chyrith destroy entire universes?”

<I think the ability to destroy the universe is a side effect,> Dulcere said. <I’m certain the ability to affect the subpaths and create magic as Gaea does, are a way of shaping a universe to make it useful to them.>

“Like making a planet habitable?” Cassandra said.

<Yes, only on a much larger scale. Magic is like air to those creatures, so they ensure that the target universe has that resource for their use.>

“It would explain why we were so outclassed when we fought the Jyril,” Marna remarked. “They may have had a creature like Gaea controlling that universe’s subpaths as well.” She looked to her daughter. “Remember, we never could gate anywhere near their home planet. They kept real space effectively blockaded.”

“So, do we think Gaea was intentionally put here?” Bannor asked.

“I don’t think so,” Marna answered.

“The other thing I don’t get is how does a creature like that ‘run away’?” Cassandra said. “I mean getting around inside a universe is hard enough.”

“There may be inter-universal paths too,” Loric said. “Luthice was able to cross outside the boundaries of Eternity. We still don’t know how that is accomplished.”

“It’s all a lot of speculation,” Damay said with a frown. “Gaea is my patron and goddess, and the primary principal upon which I have based my entire life. Trying to cast her as some runaway experiment or a cosmic weapon are pointless in any event. The important truth is that she is here, and that she created us and most important—she loves us.” She tilted her head. “When was the last time a weapon loved you?”

Corim winced and glanced at Cassandra. “Uh, let’s not go there…”

Hyperion turned into a corridor four times the width of the others they’d come down. This one slanted up like a ramp and ended in a much larger portal. Gold, blue, and red veins ran through the shiny black surface of the walls. The air had a caustic sterile smell, and everything in the atmosphere seemed to vibrate.

Wren stepped up to the door and held out the key. She closed her eyes. This one apparently required concentration to perform.

With a flash, the bolts recessed with a heavy grinding sound. Fog hissed into the passage as the seal on the door was broken. The massive construct broke into six parts, the leaves pivoting into the wall hollows.

Beyond the portal, a thick layer of mist tumbled across the floor of a chamber some two hundred paces deep. A reddish light suffused the area and bright sparks slowly rained from the ceiling, illuminating what looked like an amphitheater recessed into the broad floor. Huge crystals thrumming with energy lined the walls, golden motes spiraling in the air near them.

“Welcome children,” a deep feminine voice rolled over them from the center of the chamber. “I trust your journey was without incident?”

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Chapter Two

Life in its infinite diversity is my realm,
to analyze, to heal, and to create. I look
forward to something truly challenging to
my skills…
—Octavia Delarn,
Fabrista Master Physician

Bannor looked around the huge chamber. While it didn’t look like much, the sense of potency was unmistakable. The place had an odd feel to it and an even stranger smell. That sterile scent mingled with something organic. The air felt balmy and the hair on the back of his neck tingled.

Wren addressed the presence of Gaea in the room. “Our trip was fine. We had only one minor annoyance,” Wren said. “Easily dealt with.”

“Come in, come in!” Gaea’s voice said with sincere sounding enthusiasm. “Pardon the lack of appointments. There is however plenty of seating.”

Wren moved into the chamber toward the center. She looked up toward a black globe that hung over the center of amphitheater.

“Whoa.” Cassandra staggered as she stepped across the threshold.

Desiray also wobbled a bit, but held up the gold lady. Loric frowned, apparently affected but not to the extent of the other two. Ziedra held her husband’s arm as he staggered under the influence of this place.

“Daughter,” Gaea asked. “Did you introduce them all to the system?”

Wren rubbed her forehead. “Oh, right, I’m sorry. I forgot. I was just focused on getting us here.”

“No harm done,” Gaea boomed. “I will initiate that here.” Bannor felt her attention like a beam of warmth sweeping the room. “I apologize for any discomfort my presence causes you. I have my aura as contained as I can manage.”

“Gaea,” Marna said, orienting on the black sphere. “I have brought a physician with me, her name is Octavia. She will be doing the design and I will be assisting.”

“She will do the design?” Gaea rumbled. The walls of the chamber hummed. “You don’t trust my design is it?”

“I felt your design should be analyzed and reviewed, not blindly replicated.” Marna put hands on hips. “On the way in we were speculating what the Chyrith intended for your original purpose. If it is as we suspect, there may be some safeguards in your programming that you are unaware of.”

There was no face to put the voice to but Bannor could imagine the all-mother’s arch expression. “Programming?” Gaea repeated. “An artifice am I now?”

“Even organic creatures can be programmed.” Marna folded her arms. “Your children have been programmed to obey you, have they not?”

The room went quiet.

Bannor found the silence unnerving. The other savants were looking at Marna including Damay who looked particularly unhappy. The temperature in room seemed to drop.

Wren looked up at the sphere overhead. “Mother?”

The stillness began to get uncomfortable. Marna put fists on hips.

“You may proceed,” Gaea finally said. “Place your assembly unit directly in the middle of the audience circle.” Bannor felt that swath of warmth pass over him again. “Loric, did you bring Mon’istiaga?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Where do I put the big box?” Desiray asked.

Octavia walked over to Desiray. “Please place it next to the steps leading down. That will give the converter line-of-sight to the build location.”

The white haired woman nodded, and walked over to the spot. She raised her arms and the cloak fluttered, strands reaching out like tentacles. Touching the floor, the fingers danced and spiraled up. With a thrumming sound, Octavia’s host box slowly appeared as though painted into reality.

The red-haired physician bowed to Desiray. “Thank you.”

Dulcere and Marna stepped up and the three of them began working. Much the way he and Sarai had seen Mercedes work in Malan, Octavia appeared to summon items out of thin air and assemble them around the box. Dulcere and her Mother plugged glowing cords between the items, and secured them.

“You are not in a hurry are you, Gaea?” Marna said as she worked. “It won’t take long, but it will take some time.”

“Bannor, when last did you have one of those attacks?” Gaea asked in that booming echo.

“Two days ago,” he answered. “Before that it was a day, and then a few hours before that.”

“The periods are getting further apart,” Gaea mused. “Those in possession of it may not know its function.”

“Let’s bloody hope so,” Corim said.

“I think it is safe to take time to do this correctly,” the goddess determined.

“While they are fiddling with those artifices, is there anything you want the rest of us to do, Mother?”

“Come sit in the circle so I may look at you,” Gaea’s voice answered, echoing through the room. “Though it may not make sense, I can see you better through my communing eyes than I can when you are in my realm.” Bannor felt her focus shift. “Hyperion, close and lock the portal gate and stand guard until given further instructions.”

Bannor looked back to see the ancient turn back to the mammoth door, and hit something on a panel beside it. The valve shut and locked with a final-sounding boom. The creature stepped to the middle, braced himself and folded his arms, glowing green eyes pulsing.

Stand guard? Was Gaea planning to keep something out or keep them in? Hyperion was on the inside.

His mind kept coming back to what Marna had said. Your children have been programmed to obey you, have they not? Where Gaea was concerned, did he have no free will?

Sarai squeezed his arm. “My One, are you okay?” Her violet eyes searched his face.

He looked down at her. Damn, she was beautiful. He almost had no free will when it came to Sarai, especially now that they would be parents soon. He swallowed. Bannor knelt down, put his arms around her, and pulled her close, pressing his face against the warmth of her body.

“Mmmm, my One,” she murmured, stroking his hair. “What’s wrong?”

“I just want to keep you safe,” he murmured. “It just keeps getting crazier and crazier. What can I do if the whole universe collapses?”

“Shhh.” She kissed the top of his head. “It’ll be all right, it won’t come to that. I have faith in all of you—and I’ll be there to help you.”

He sighed, drawing strength from her certainty and confidence. He pushed himself to his feet and tilted her head back. She pulled him down and they kissed. She tasted sweet. It made his whole body tremble. It took a moment to pull away. “I love you,” he muttered.

She rubbed his chest with her palm. “For some reason, I never get tired of hearing you say that. I love you too, my One. Come, let’s join the others.” She pulled him toward the audience circle where the rest of the group had gathered on the padded tiers.

In the time of his brief interlude with Sarai, Marna, Dulcere and Octavia had created a replica of the back of Wysteri’s treatment area, with a counter and the lighted crystals Wysteri called ‘consoles’. They had made chairs and other devices which meant nothing to him.

As the two of them sat on the bleachers next to Daena and Janai, a brilliant beam of grayish light struck out from Octavia’s host, etching a pattern in the air of the platform in the center of the audience circle. In a matter of heartbeats, a cylinder identical to the one in Wysteri’s treatment area took shape.

“I don’t care how many times I see it,” Daena said. “That stuff is wizard; making something out of nothing.”

It reminded Bannor of Cassandra’s diatribe against the Kriar. When you could make anything out of nothing, everything of value became worthless. Of course, such a thing was a view from a higher perspective. To an impoverished village in the middle of nowhere, where food or clothing came from and how it came to be were afterthoughts at best.

“I am glad you all made the trek here,” Gaea said. “I only wish more of my children could have been adopted before this trial came to pass. So, what do you all think of the legacy of your forebears?”

“I think its wizard an all,” Daena said, brushing at her auburn hair. “Do we get to find out what it was all for?”

“To be honest,” Gaea said. “The generation that built Starholme, communed with me only to ask for boons of the subpaths. They did not accept my advice nor consult with me on the building of this place. They felt they had outgrown their mother. So, while I have a presence here, and some small influence, I know little of this place beyond the broad strokes.”

“You never wandered around as an avatar?”

Gaea sighed. “As I said, my children didn’t have much regard for me. The access I was given here was more to patronize me than anything else. My ability to manifest was very limited and quite expensive. My avatars lasted only a very short time in the border space created by this chamber.”

“That confuses me,” Ziedra said raising a hand. “It sounds like they were arseholes, yet you talk as though we are the same ones from the ancient times.”

“You are. They weren’t all arses. I had my favorites—the ones who regarded me. They were the ones whose taos I assisted so they might be reborn.”

“You’ll pardon,” Sarai said. “Mazerak was the worst kind of arse.”

Gaea sighed. “Even a basically good tao can grow up twisted. Each of you have been reborn hundreds of times, and some of those incarnations were less desirable than others.” Bannor heard a smile in Gaea’s voice. “Ziedra my dear child, the line of Istar’nolas has many stinkers in it. Your power is one far more easily abused than the others, and it has been—many times.”

“Well, I don’t mind being the exception to the stinker rule,” the dark-haired savant said with a toss of her head.

Wren leaned toward the woman. “Are you sure you are?”

Ziedra scowled at her.

Octavia walked down the steps and stepped up on the dais and checked the chamber. She looked up to the dark sphere over head. “All preparations are complete. How will we exchange the design data?”

“You can analyze a sample to give you the template, can you not?” Gaea asked.

“I can.”

“One moment,” Gaea said. Bannor felt the room grow warm around him. The gems on the walls flickered and crackled, and the motes dancing around them changed their patterns. “I need a sterile container to deposit the template.”

Octavia gestured and what looked like a small glass cylinder about the size of Bannor’s thumb appeared in her hand. “Will this suffice?”

“It will. Hold it out in front of you.”

Octavia looked up to the dark sphere and held out the container. A green light stabbed out from the globe and into the enclosure and a bluish fluid built up inside it until it was half filled.

“I trust that is sufficient.”

“Adequate,” Octavia acknowledged with a furrowed brow. “This is a locked sequence, do you wish it replicated in a locked state?”

“My dear, if you can figure out how to unlock it, you are welcome to do so.”

“I see,” Octavia replied. “I will take this back to analyzer and give you my synthesis shortly.”

“Thank you, Octavia,” Gaea responded.

The mecha physician retreated back up the steps to her host where she placed the container inside something she slid out of device’s side. She went to one of the consoles and studied something there with Marna and Dulcere.

“Ziedra,” Gaea said. “Please come down to the platform.”

The ascendant of magic frowned. She touched her husband on the shoulder and walked down the steps to the central dais.

“This will not hurt,” Gaea said. “Please do not move.”

Ziedra nodded.

A green light bathed the savant, and she rocked her head back. Wren saw her taking deep breaths, hands clenched at her side.

“I know what that feels like,” Desiray murmured.

“Will she be all right?” Radian asked.

“She’ll be in good mood, trust me.”

Bannor watched as a complex web of threads formed between Ziedra and the sphere containing Gaea’s essence. As he watched the threads, some appearing, others disappearing, he realized that they were communicating. Gaea was using the primal threads of the universe as a means of sending information. He frowned—to use such dense threads it would have to be a great deal of knowledge.

The light winked out and Ziedra staggered. She put a hand to her chest. “Whew.” She drew a breath and shuddered. Looking up to the sphere overhead she said, “I understand.”

“Good,” Gaea rumbled.

Radian walked down to greet his wife. “Are you okay?”

Ziedra didn’t answer, she simply put her arms around him and put her head on his shoulder.

“Loric,” Gaea said.

“Yes, Gaea,” he answered.

“I have one task for you and it is a simple one. Hopefully, you will oblige me.”

“I have to hear what it is first.”

“It’s nothing complicated. When the body is ready, I will have to transfer my essence to it. While I can do that after a fact, this system has a rather tight grip on me. I want you to use Mon’istiaga to cut open the sphere that contains me. I would have one of my children do it, but being that close to my pure essence might prove harmful to them. I know you can protect yourself.”

Loric stared up at the globe. Bannor saw suspicion in the gray-haired man’s eyes. “Isn’t there a less destructive way to do it?”

“If you can think of one, I am open to suggestions. The material of this sphere is quite durable, and it is a rather solid object. My children did not want me getting out.”

Bannor felt a little twist in his stomach. Why might that be? Had the first ones been afraid of their mother? She said they didn’t regard her or listen to her counsel. He suspected that their mother told the truth, but was selective with what things she revealed.

“All right,” Loric finally said. “I will do as you ask.”

“Good.”

“Gaea,” Marna said from the top of the stairs.

“Yes, Marna?” the goddess responded.

“We’re looking at this template,”

“Yes?”

“Isn’t it a bit—young?”

“Is there a problem?”

“Oh, it could be done—but…”

“Marna, I thought you liked them young…”

The Kriar Vatraena frowned.

“Mother, what’s she talking about?” Wren asked.

“The reference template is actually that of a child.”

“A child?”

“Yes, don’t you think it would be quaint? The mother of the universe in the body of a pre-pubescent girl.”

Wren stared.

All the rest of savants stared as well.

Gaea sighed. “Nobody has a sense of humor anymore. Of course I don’t want to be in the body of a child, Marna. The template was easier to create that way, please maturate it appropriately. You can do that, right?”

“Of course,” Marna answered.

“Please.” Bannor felt Gaea’s attention sweep over everyone. “Isn’t your mother allowed a jest once in a while? You’re all so serious.”

“Well, maybe the universe getting blown up might have one or two of us on edge,” Cassandra said with a frown.

“Marna is working as fast as she can. I will expedite matters to the best of my ability once I can move about.”

“Do we have a plan?” Damay asked.

“We will have one once I have time to assess things with eyes that can truly see your world. Much of my interpretation of real space is through your eyes and your perceptions and not my own. Even my ability to express myself is really a reflection of all of you here. It’s somewhat complicated.”

“Lady Gaea,” Octavia said from the stairs. “I have some concerns. Do you wish to hear them?”

“Of course.”

“I have done my initial analysis of your reference template. I believe I understand the key requirements in terms of compatibility with your essence and specialized communicating requirements. However, there are elements that are suspect. Is this design entirely your own or did you borrow it?”

Gaea’s answer was not immediate. The chamber was silent for a time, everyone staring up to the spot where her voice issued. After half a breath, Gaea responded. “Unfortunately, it is mostly borrowed. As one can imagine, I am not an expert in this sort of thing. So, what is your recommendation?”

“I suggest a redesign based around the core requirements indicated in your reference. It will eliminate suspect controls and locks inherent in the other build.”

“And integrate your controls and locks, correct?”

Octavia simply stared at the sphere she was addressing. She brushed at her red hair. “My design will be stable, safe, and adequately provide for your needs.”

“I see,” Gaea said. Bannor felt the goddess’ attention studying the mecha. “Octavia, were you designed by a Kriar or did another of your kind make you?”

The physician frowned. “My mother, Eladrazelle, created me.”

“How do you feel about that?”

The mecha’s brow furrowed. “How am I supposed to feel about it? She is my mother.”

Where was Gaea going with that? Sometimes Bannor didn’t understand her. Of course, that was probably to be expected.

“Octavia, proceed as you deem necessary. I am certain the design will be excellent.”

The mecha bowed. “I should have something ready shortly.” She turned back to where she was consulting with Marna and Dulcere.

“I am fascinated,” Gaea remarked to the audience, “with creations that exceed the capabilities of their creators. I suppose that is the nature of evolution. A mother likes to think that her children will be more prosperous than she…”

The group continued to converse with Gaea. She informed the savants and their mates that the governing intelligence of Starholme had been updated with their identities so that they could move about the complex without risk. In the intervening time, the all-mother asked some strange questions. She asked how each of them felt about their parents and siblings and the nature of emotions like jealousy and envy. The way she reflected their responses showed that she understood the concepts herself, but was more interested in their own interpretations.

“The design is complete and double checked,” Octavia reported. “Do you wish to review it?”

“No,” Gaea answered. “I trust your work. Proceed to the creation process and I will examine the product.”

“As you wish.”

Marna and Octavia worked together at their counter for a few moments. The cylinder on the dais began to glow and a strange whining sound came from it.

“This really is rather exciting,” Cassandra remarked. “We’re watching the creating of a goddess.”

“While the creation is indeed fascinating,” Idun said. “What concerns me more is the Kriar’s ability to do this. What is to stop them from creating dozens or hundreds of creatures like ourselves?”

“I don’t think there is anything,” Wren said. “But if they did that kind of thing, wouldn’t Homeworld be flooded with trillions of creatures—including copies of themselves?”

“I did find that aspect of Homeworld troubling,” Damay remarked. “Especially when one reflects on their ability to create new forms of life at will.”

“I believe the Kriar have a much firmer grasp of the natural order of things than any of you realize,” Gaea said to them all. “There were those of them who did not care about order which took them into conflict with the Jyril. However, others like our Marna seem to respect life.”

A body had taken shape in the cylinder. It was too far away to make out details, but there was definitely something solid there. He stood up, curious to go down and look. The others seemed to have the same idea as they all went down the steps to gather around the form of the goddess.

Sarai held his arm as they stepped up to look in the case.

Green.

Bannor guessed that was going to stay the same, although the tone seemed lighter than it had when they saw her incarnation in the other realm. The proportions of this shape were not nearly so exaggerated. Despite the overstated fertility traits, the body had a sleek symmetry that suggested strength and solidity. Despite being slimmer and less distorted, it was definitely Gaea’s face. Though it didn’t seem like a face that should affect him that way, he found that face extremely attractive. Perhaps that was part of the control Marna had mentioned. Perhaps he simply couldn’t see the goddess as anything other than beautiful.

A bluish light played over the body from the sphere above them.

“Hmmm,” Gaea hummed. “Do you like it daughter Wren?”

“It’s, ummm, really healthy,” the blonde savant remarked. “But believable.”

“Believable?” Gaea remarked. “You did not think my other avatars were believable?”

“Uhhh, they were good for hugs.”

“Will I still give good hugs?” Gaea asked with a smile in her voice.

“Always.”

“Vatraena,” Gaea said. “From what I can see, this will work. Before we can do the joining, however, Ziedra must perform some rituals for me.”

“Rituals?” Marna repeated, coming down the steps with Dulcere and Octavia in tow.

“Yes. Children please give Zee some space. Are you ready, Zee?”

Ziedra drew a breath and let it out slow. “Sure. You know, I’ve never tried something this big before.”

“You never had a body like that.”

“True.”

They backed off as the ascendant of magic began the incantation. Ziedra pushed her long dark hair over her shoulders, squared herself on the platform and worked her shoulders left to right. She brought her hands together in a clap and hummed. Closing her eyes she tilted her head back and swung her arms up and began to chant deep in her chest, uttering harsh guttural sounds.

Loric tilted his head, brow furrowing. “It appears to be a tenth order version of T’a‘fugit, there are some differences of course.”

“A spirit binder?” Cassandra said. “Well, I suppose that makes sense.”

“Spirit binder?” Marna wondered aloud.

The three Kriar watched in rapt fascination as Ziedra continued to cast.

Bannor watched as the magic evolved, primal threads of incredible power stretched out between the body and the sphere containing Gaea’s essence. There were other spells that insinuated themselves in the green mother’s waiting body, making subtle changes in its structure.

By the time Ziedra began to slow her motions, to Bannor’s nola sight, the dais was all but obscured by a complex web of threads and balanced energies. To his normal sight, the area pulsed with a silvery light, and motes of red, blue, and green light danced around the cylinder.

Ziedra dropped her hands to her sides and staggered. Wren lunged forward and caught her shoulders.

“Whew,” the ascendant of magic said. “That—that was a lot—even for this body.”

“Well done, Daughter Ziedra,” Gaea commended. “It appears that you did everything perfectly.”

Octavia had her arms folded as she stared at the case with a furrowed brow.

“Octavia,” Gaea said. “Loric is going to strike my essence cage. When he does so, Ziedra will invoke the binding. When she claps her hands, please start the body processes.”

Octavia nodded. “Understood.”

“Children,” Gaea said. “Let us hope this is successful. It is the last time I may communicate with you from this chamber, as when the vessel is destroyed so will my contact with the artifices that allow communication. Do please stay back away from the case while the binding takes place. It will create quite a tempest I am sure. Zee, I recommend invoking the binding from several steps up.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Loric, are you ready?”

He frowned. He chanted a few words and his body left the ground and floated up to where he was within arm’s reach of Gaea’s essence cage. With a rasp, he drew Mon’istiaga out of its magically concealed case. The blade of the destroyer sparked and flared with reddish light, the material shimmering like the surface of water illuminated by a bright sun.

“Ready,” the elder said.

Below, they had backed well away from the case. Bannor’s heart was thumping. They were going to witness something truly unique.

“When you strike,” Gaea said. “I would get back a fair distance.” There was a pause. “I am prepared. Go when you are ready.”

Loric looked down to Ziedra. “Ready Zee?”

“Yes,” the ascendant of magic said, leaning on her gold husband.

“Ready Octavia?”

“I am prepared.”

“Okay, here we go.”

Loric gestured and a sheen of golden light swelled around his limbs, then another dimmer light seemed to fold around that, and then a series of dimmer illuminations layered themselves overtop those. After that was done he landed on the upper side of the globe, and took hold of the thick support that held it in place, and braced himself. He took a couple of test swings, getting the path he wanted. Bannor noticed he was bracing his feet not only to get leverage to make the attack but lunge away from the construct as well.

“On three, two, one!” The elder drew back the weapon of the first ones, focused, and brought Mon’istiaga’s edge shrieking down on the side of the sphere.

Bannor had been expecting a big impact but the whole room shook with the power of the blow. Apparently, Loric had known exactly how sturdy that sphere was, even with the tremendous force the elder put behind it, Mon’istiaga only knocked out a small chunk.

Loric leaped away as a burst of darkness erupted from the opening, causing the whole room to shudder and fluctuate. The cloud of lightlessness swirled around the sphere, energy arcing and crackling.

Ziedra yelled a single indescribable word, something beyond sound but less than thought. It hit the air like a hammer ringing a gong. She clapped her hands.

Octavia gestured and the case flashed.

The air in the room roared to a howl as the cloud of darkness around Gaea’s communing sphere spiraled down toward the case with growing speed. Tongues of magic and heat flicked out into the lower bleachers with crashes that made the whole room quiver with their force.

Threads of truly unfathomable depth and reach began to gather around the goddess; strands of reality so primal that they made Bannor’s eyes ache to look on them.

A fountain of golden light fanned out from where the darkness touched Gaea’s waiting body. The case top melted and fragments of the cylinder itself sheared away into the maelstrom of titanic forces boring downward into the green-skinned form.

Bannor glanced toward Marna, her daughter, and Octavia, the three of them stood on the steps, fists clenched and bodies twitching as each roll of thunder and flash of energy smote the room.

“Lords,” Sarai breathed next to him. “That’s her life force?”

“Creation incarnate,” someone murmured.

With a last crack that died into to silence, the light and darkness winked out.

It felt to Bannor like his heart stopped along with the display. Smoke and vapor obscured the whole dais, so it was impossible to tell if the body even held together under the massive onslaught of the all-mother’s life force.

“Dark,” Marna muttered. “I—” The always articulate matriarch stumbled, apparently at a lack for words.

Loric floated down to land on the steps next to Cassandra and Desiray. He rubbed at his arms. “Damn, I got a sun-tan right through my shields.” He sheathed Mon’istiaga with a clank and looked toward the dais. “Did it work?”

“I can’t tell,” Cassandra breathed.

Wren drew a breath and started down the steps.

Ziedra followed close behind, hands laced and held to her lips.

He swallowed and started down, Sarai held onto his hand and followed. The platform was devoid of threads. It looked—dead. The thought made his stomach twist. He looked up to the sphere overhead. The massive outpouring of Gaea’s essence had pealed the globe open like the petals of a flower.

Why couldn’t he detect that monstrously powerful life force? All that energy had just vanished like it never was.

They reached the bottom step. Nothing remained of the Kriar transformation cylinder. Bannor felt the heat of the floor of the conference circle through his boots. The metal and crystal had been literally boiled away by the gigantic forces of the merging. A burned caustic smell hung in the air. Gaea’s body lay on its side in a melted crater of stone several paces across, long black hair lying across her torso and the floor like strands of shadow.

Octavia, who was behind them, made an incoherent choking sound. No doubt, she, like the rest of them, had not anticipated anything nearly so violent.

“How did her body even remain intact?” Cassandra wondered. “Damn, it’s hot.”

Wren ventured into the still smoking crater, her aura flickering brighter as she dissipated the energy away from herself. “Mother?” She bent down and touched Gaea’s shoulder. “Mother?”

The goddess didn’t move.

The other savants looked on from a short distance away.

Wren bent down and scooped Gaea up in her arms. Grimacing, with the effort, she wobbled over and deposited still form on the lowest intact tier and pressed her ear to all-mother’s chest.

The Kel’varan made a moaning sound. “No, she’s—”

The goddess gasped, her back arching and legs twitching. Her flailing arms found Wren and clutched her tight.

The goddess’ body, dormant of threads and energy, sparked and came alive. Like the light from a lantern being slowly unhooded, the life force of Gaea grew brighter and brighter until her green skin turned luminescent with the brilliance of her tao.

The all-mother took long shuddering gasps of air. Her dark eyes fluttered. She continued to take deep heaving breaths. She moaned and after a few moments her eyes opened fully.

“Ah,” Gaea groaned. “So—this is what it’s like to be—alive.”

Return to Contents

Chapter Three

In truth, the Jyril scared me. They did
things that were then, and still are,
impossible to Kriar science even after
hundreds of eons. Their legacy, creatures
like the Baronians and Gaea, make me
uneasy no matter how pretty a face they wear…
—Vatraena Marna Solaris,
Fabrista Supreme Counsel

Gaea writhed on the padded tier. Her naked green body glowing with potential now covered with beads of perspiration. The great communing chamber had gone cold. The great gems that once pulsed with energy were dead and a dark. The mists which rolled along the floor had dissipated. As Bannor watched, the goddess they once feared stillborn was growing stronger, the life energy in her burning brighter and brighter.

“Dang,” Wren breathed. “We thought you didn’t make it.”

Gaea coughed and smiled. She raised a trembling hand to Wren’s face. “Not—” Her throat worked. “Not—easy.”

Bannor glanced to Octavia and Marna who were glancing back and forth to one another and looking uncomfortable. Dulcere too seemed uneasy. Something had not gone according to their plans. Of course, he doubted anyone expected the creation chamber to be turned to slag and a big hole melted in the dais.

He noticed Loric and Cassandra also had worried expressions.

“She’s beautiful,” Sarai murmured. “A goddess has been born.” She swallowed. “And I got to watch it.”

Loric turned back to Bannor. He and Cassandra came over to him. “Bannor can you come over here with us?” Loric pointed to the other side of the audience circle.

The four of them walked until they were out of earshot of Wren and the other savants. Loric lowered his voice. He glanced toward where the blonde savant was drawing a cloak over Gaea’s nakedness and cradling her head in her lap.

The man raised gray eyes to fix on Bannor. “Bannor, I know you can see amazing things. Does that look like any avatar you’ve ever seen?”

He glanced to Gaea. He frowned. “I’ve never seen one that strong, that’s for sure.”

“She’s got enough demi-urge for a thousand avatars,” Cassandra murmured.

Bannor looked back. Gaea’s energy was still getting stronger. He wasn’t even sure how that body was holding all that potential.

“Do you see any kind of external connection?” Loric asked him. “Something that would be tying her back her original body?”

He focused on Gaea again and the hundreds of primal threads that whirled and spun around her. If she had a host thread, he sure couldn’t see it. Loric was right, and being as powerful as Gaea was, that control thread would be something not easily concealed—especially not from him—the threads of eternity were the clearest of all to his sight.

Bannor pushed out his lip. “If there’s a control thread, I sure don’t see it. It’s crazy, as I’m watching—she’s still getting stronger.”

Cassandra’s black black eyes widened. “Lords, did she…”

Desiray came sauntering over. She blinked at them with green eyes and flipped her white hair. “What’s got you four over here whispering? This new Gaea got you scared? Marna looks like someone has a crossbow pointed at her head.”

“I was about to say to Bannor, I think Gaea changed the plan at the last instant.”

“Changed it how?”

“I think that’s her—the whole Gaea,” he said.

“You mean the whole ‘the universe blows up if she dies’ Gaea?”

He pressed his lips to a line and nodded.

“Darling, I can believe a lot of stuff. You’re not going to say an entire universe just got squeezed into that little teeny body.”

“Have you ever seen that much magic?” he said in a dark tone. “Even Idun in full battle mode is just barely a little more than what she’s putting out now. She’s just lying there.” He pointed to Sarai’s shaladen blade. “She’s carrying around a thousandth of the universe’s total energy output on her hip. How in hades did they do that?”

Sarai looked down to the sword on her hip and gripped it. Bannor’s wife-to-be’s eyes widened, their violet glows cast illumination of her cheeks. “What?”

Loric looked to Sarai. “You didn’t know? I thought you understood how powerful that thing was.”

“That’s ridiculous. I can’t have that much magic—can I?”

“Of course. The shaladen’s energy is effectively infinite. Being flesh and blood though, you can only draw as much of that power as your physical and psychic abilities can withstand. That is why when you first pick up a shaladen it transforms your body so that the weapon’s idle energy doesn’t burn you up.” He let out a breath. “If you’ve ever seen someone touch a shaladen that wasn’t themselves a Shael Dal, or someone becoming a wielder—very messy.” He glanced back to where Gaea lay with her followers gathered around her reclined body. “I don’t know what we do now.”

“I don’t understand,” Bannor said. “What has you worried?”

“Bannor, kill an avatar, the god makes another one—the chance of killing the host is miniscule. If that’s really her—and she dies—what happens?”

He rubbed the back of his head. “But this body isn’t built into universe. If it dies—I mean what does that form have to do with those subpaths Marna talked about?”

Loric frowned. “I don’t know—maybe nothing—maybe everything. What we don’t know can hurt us. It’s possible that this is now the host, and the vast form occupying Eternity’s subpaths is now the avatar. Avatars can feed their hosts energy. Avatars often die when their host expires.”

“Damn, that’s scary,” Cassandra said.

“I wouldn’t be so scared myself,” Loric said. “Except that I’m concerned that body won’t hold together.”

Bannor looked over. The amount of energy coming from Gaea was worrisome. It was possible that she could get control of it, but would she do so before something ugly and awkward happened.

Marna, Dulcere, and Octavia tore themselves away from the sight of Gaea and came across to the side of the circle where they were having their private conversation.

“I take it you have the same concerns as we do?” Marna said to Loric.

Loric nodded. “Octavia, is that body going to hold together?”

The mecha woman scrubbed both hands in her red hair in gesture of dismay. “I have never seen such a high energy level in an organic. I am glad I designed three times over spec, or she would have already failed.”

<It looks to me like she’s stabilizing,> Dulcere said glancing back. <I believe the fear that she will kill the body is lapsing. However, I am fairly certain this is no avatar. I got a rather close look at an avatar earlier, and they bear no resemblance.>

“No,” Loric confirmed. “Bannor says he sees no control thread. We’re speculating now what happens if this form dies?”

“It is possible nothing happens,” Octavia said with a furrowed brow. “Consider for a moment that she did a tao transfer as the savants have done. Moving her entire energy form from the form in subspace to this one.”

“That would leave her subpath body dormant, unoccupied. Our bodies die if we’re not in them.”

“A creature as she must be is not a single entity, but a huge colony of entities working in unison.”

“But how can something like that have a personality?” Sarai wanted to know.

“How can you have a personality? You yourself are thousands of adapted colony organisms working together,” Octavia explained, continuing to fuss with her red hair. The mecha’s rainbow colored eyes flicked through the darker colors of the spectrum. “Most forms of organic life work on this principle. She is simply something working on a larger scale—something only possible in the timelessness of subspace where organic material does not decay as it does in normal space.”

She looked over toward Gaea and sighed. “Good, the energy spikes have leveled out. I think the body will adapt to the thresholds. I was worried it wouldn’t have time to modify itself to handle the load.”

“Her body can modify itself?” Cassandra said looking over.

“Well, all creatures have adaptive bodies. It’s just that I knew I would be dealing with a high load, so I designed replicates into the form that would increase the density and durability of the heterotrophic elements of her microstructure when needed. I had no idea it would have to adapt to so much so quickly.”

“Wizard,” Cassandra said with a nod. “As long as she’s not going to explode.”

“I believe we are through the scary part,” Octavia said.

“Loric, Marna,” Bannor said. “Even if it really is Gaea, there’s nothing we can do about it. The chimera is out of its cave and we collapsed the cave behind it.” He pointed to the sphere overhead. “We have to pretend that if she dies the universe goes with her, even if that’s not the case, at least until we know for certain one way or the other.”

“She’s not going to let us lock her up and hide her away,” Sarai said. “This is the first time she’s ever been outside. She is going to want to see, hear, smell, taste and touch everything.”

Cassandra nodded. “Sarai is right, once she gets going, holding that woman still is going to be a trial. She’ll want to experience everything including watching fights.”

Loric gritted his teeth. “Which is exactly where we don’t want her.”

“We don’t have to fret as much as that,” Marna said. “That is one tough body. It’s going to take a lot.”

“We’re dealing with enemies who dish a lot,” Loric murmured. “And as she said, she can’t defend herself. She has a lot of power, but absolutely no experience interacting in the real world.”

“We’ll have to teach her,” Bannor said. “What else can we do?”

“I wonder what kind of student she is,” Sarai murmured.

“Either incredibly receptive, or immeasurably stubborn,” Marna remarked. “Having been alone for eons, she is going to want to swallow up every bit of attention she can garner—so I would imagine she’ll be receptive.”

“Bannor?” Gaea was leaned over on the tier looking over toward him. Her dark eyes gleamed. “Why are you over there?”

“Guess, I better go pay attention to my mother.” He started to head over, stopped and looked back. “Octavia, when will it be safe to move her?”

“I wouldn’t take her through any gates or teleports until she’s stabilized for at least another half bell,” Octavia recommended.

“Okay,” he said. “I know she’ll ask me.”

Sarai walked with him as he headed back over and knelt down by Gaea. The air around the goddess was warm. He noticed she smelled nice. Her green skin gleamed as though lit from within.

“Yes, Mother,” he said. “I apologize. We had some things we needed to discuss and didn’t want to disturb you while you gain your strength.” He drew a breath and fixed her jewel-like eyes with his own. “You gave us quite a scare.”

She swallowed and nodded. She tilted her head to look back at Wren. Then her eyes tracked to Daena, Damay, Vanidaar, Ziedra, Azir and himself. She seemed to devour every detail as if she couldn’t get enough.

“You—you’re all so—so beautiful,” she said. She reached out toward him.

He captured her hand in his.

“Just go slow, Mother,” he said. “I know this is all new to you.”

“This is no place for her,” Wren said. “We should probably have her in a bed. Did Octavia say how long before we can move her?”

“Half a bell,” he said. He leaned close to Gaea. “Mother, is there anything you should tell us?”

She blinked at him. “Hmmm?”

He sighed.

“Something wrong, Bannor?” Ziedra asked.

“Yes, I think you’re a little too strong for your own good,” he answered.

“Oh.” She rubbed the back of her head and glanced at her husband. “You noticed, huh?”

“What did I notice?”

“Uh,” she lowered her voice to a whisper and leaned close to him. “I think there’s a bit more of her here than there’s supposed to be.”

He nodded.

Wren frowned up at the two of them.

“Daughter, will you help me to sit up?” Gaea asked. Bannor noticed her voice was starting to take on the echoing quality of an immortal.

“Are you strong enough?”

“Let us find out,” she said.

The savants working together helped Gaea to sit. The goddess wobbled but seemed to enjoy even that sensation. She grinned at the savants as though she were herself a child. She pushed against the bench, shifting her weight.

“It’s so—light,” Gaea said. “Not like that other form.” She rocked her head side to side, and ran her fingers through her hair. Bannor could see her cataloguing every sensation, relishing each one like candy. Sarai had been so right.

“I want to stand,” the goddess said.

“Mother, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Wren advised.

“Shush, let me try,” the green woman said with a frown. She looked down at the ground and her feet. She looked up at the savants. “Feet! Would you believe I never saw my feet?” Her brow furrowed and her toes wiggled. Even that little thing seemed to delight her. “Toes!” She moved her legs side to side, watching the movement of her kneecaps.

“Mother,” Damay tried. “I think Wren is correct, you’re—”

“Daughter,” Gaea growled. “I understand your concern, I am not a child. Please allow me to explore a bit.” She focused back on her feet moving her heels back and forth. After a moment she looked up. “Son Azir, Son Vanidaar, please help me up.”

The two men frowned, looking at the other savants who scowled at them. Drawing a breath, they each took a side and pulled Gaea to stand, holding her up while her feet dangled above the floor. Slowly, a little at time they settled her weight on those untried and no doubt unsteady legs.

Gaea’s whole attention seemed focused on her knees which were shaking. “This is—rather—intense.” She grinned. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Ah.” She looked around with such glee that it made Bannor’s heart ache. “I’m standing!” She declared.

Sarai must have felt the same emotion, because she hugged his arm.

Gaea started to move her foot.

“Motherrr…” Wren growled.

The goddess ignored her daughter’s warning, pushing her foot out to take a step. It all started well, but those shaky legs were just too new. Half way through the movement, her back leg buckled, and she started to collapse.

Gaea let out a gasp of surprise and started to flail for balance.

Azir and Vanidaar caught her before she went far, but the cloak she was holding around herself fell down around her ankles.

She looked up at them dark hair falling across her face. She blew a few strands out her eyes. “Oh.”

Wren winced.

Euriel seemed to be enjoying her daughter’s discomfort immensely. “She’s just like you, Baby.”

The blonde savant scowled at her mother.

Idun laughed and gazed at Euriel. “She got it from you.”

They helped Gaea to sit back down, and gave her the cloak back to cover herself.

“I guess I will need to learn to walk again,” Gaea said with a sniff. “And I will.”

“Mother Gaea,” Wren said. “You must take it easy. Give the body time to adjust.”

“Daughter, I am taking it easy. You’re worrying too much.” She sighed. “I will try again in a little bit.”

Wren growled. “You’ll be the death of me, I swear.”

Bannor sighed. He sure hoped not.

Return to Contents

Chapter Four

We rarely had anything much more
exotic than an archmage or two in
Kul’Amaron. Suddenly, we started playing
host for dozens of immorts, aliens, and
even a pantheon lady; then came Gaea.
Which suite do you give to the creator of
the universe…?
—Kalindinai T’Evagduran,
Queen of Malan

The remaining time spent in Starholme wrecked poor Wren. By the time the group was ready to be summoned back to Kul’Amaron by King T’Evagduran, the blonde savant looked like she’d run half way across Malan. Marna and Octavia packed up the mecha’s paraphernalia and Desiray put it back in her cloak. The doors to Gaea’s audience hall were unlocked and Hyperion was sent back to the lab to sleep until needed again.

At Gaea’s direction, they retraced their steps to one of the rooms they had passed in their tour of Starholme. In that place, which was filled with dozens of artifices of the first ones, Gaea pointed out a vault door to Wren.

This secure portal, the ‘master key’ as Gaea called it, opened, and inside was a storage facility. Unlike a closet with shelves, the walls were like a clear, soft, extremely malleable clay into which objects were pressed.

In a row, low on the wall, were ten devices similar to the one Wren wore. These Gaea explained were keys for the interior of Starholme. They were not like the master key Wren wore, but would assist the savants in opening doors should they ever come back. Gaea pointed out some other objects of the first ones that were gathered up much to Cassandra’s glee and Loric’s fume. There were a pair of gauntlets, an elaborate necklace obviously designed for a woman, an intricately carved and jeweled staff, a set of thick silver bracelets, a heavy metallic belt, and two unadorned plain-looking daggers. All these devices were thrown into Desiray’s cloak for safe keeping.

All throughout the short walk and exploration, Gaea made Wren crazy. To be truthful, the blonde savant was simply being over protective, but Gaea made it worse by dismissing Wren’s admonitions. Taking several spills that made Octavia and the Kriar wince. To be truthful, he found himself gritting his teeth. Knowing what they knew, it was hard not to think of Gaea like a giant bomb. Every time she slipped or staggered they kept expecting her to explode. He knew it was silly, the body made by Octavia would take more than a little fall to injure. Still, like parents trying to protect a child, it was hard not to lurch when the exuberant youth insisted on testing her fledgling limits and took a tumble.

Wren shoved the vault door closed with a heavy thud. The artifice room hummed with energy; the flat black walls devoid of any adornment. Bannor had no idea what any of it did, although he guessed some of it might have something to do with the subpaths in which this part of the complex was built. Many of the strange spidery-looking devices had the feel of the ethereal chaos about them.

“Corim,” Loric asked. “How many can a shaladen summoning carry?”

“Five plus the wielder,” the burly man said.

“Damn, not enough,” Loric looked to Marna. “And you can’t get us out?”

The elder Kriar shook her head. “Not a chance, this place is locked down tight.”

Corim raised a finger. “I have this one covered.” He raised his shaladen and held it up in front of himself and stepped a little ahead of the group and closed his eyes.

After a few moments he made four slashes with the blade.

Nothing happened.

“What—?”

“Wait for it…”

A single dot appeared in the very center of the area Corim had described with his weapon. The dot expanded slowly, a flickering light shining through it like the beam of a hunter’s lantern.

Bannor glanced to the all-mother. Wren’s brother Azir was carrying her. Arms around the young ascendant’s neck, expression intent, she studied the glowing phenomena with dark jewel-like eyes.

The circle grew until it was a few paces across, the opaque surface collapsed with a hiss of air revealing a cut in the air peering into a stone corridor where Tal stood holding the shaladen Nova.

“Damn,” Tal said with a shake of his head. “That gate took forever. That’s a hella shield around that place. Hop smart, this thing is hard to keep open.”

In ones and twos they jumped through and back into Kul’Amaron. They were in the back corridors near the chambers of the King and Queen. Here the walls were adorned with art and tapestries. An open window looked out into one of Kul’Amaron’s many gardens, illuminated by shafts of afternoon light. A pleasant gurgling came from a many-layered water sculpture that gleamed and sparkled in the sun.

Dulcere and Corim came through last, and turned to watch as the gate closed with a rasp of disrupted air.

“Thanks, Tal,” Corim said. “It was going to be a long hike otherwise.”

Tal thumped Corim on the shoulder. “No problem, Kid.”

The shaladen warrior looked to green-skinned Gaea, who pulled the cloak around herself as he viewed her. Tal bowed. “Green, it can only be mother Gaea.”

“Thank you, son Talorin,” Gaea said with a grin. Still holding around Azir’s neck, she peered around the corridor in wide-eyed fascination. She pulled on the ascendant of light and pointed to the opening in the wall. “The window.”

He walked over so she could look out. Gaea touched the wall and leaned down. “So beautiful.” She looked over his shoulder to Janai and Sarai. “This is the place where you were raised?”

“Yes,” Sarai said with a nod.

“Azir, please put me down, I can hold myself here,” she asked.

Wren’s brother sighed and set her down, slowly allowing her to take the weight on her legs. Still clutching the cloak around her body, she stared out the window. She closed her eyes and sniffed. “Oh, so nice. This is—” A gurgling sound came from her middle and she clutched at her abdomen. Her brow furrowed. “Ugh. What is that sensation?”

“Food,” Wren said, letting out a breath. “We need to get you something to eat.” She frowned and looked at Octavia. “She doesn’t need anything special, does she?”

Octavia shook her head. The mecha glanced back to Gaea then looked to Marna. “Vatraena, perhaps I should remain, she may need further adjustments. I can keep my host with Wysteri’s while I am in residence.” She turned to Janai. “As long as it’s permissible.”

The second princess laughed. “Why not? There’s room, it’s not like the castle isn’t already filled with Shael Dal, valkyries, and Kriar.”

Octavia bowed. “Thank you, Arminwen.”

Gaea looked around between them. “I get to eat? Is eating pleasant?”

Bannor couldn’t help but smile.

“First things first,” Euriel said. “Let’s get her some clothes.”

Gaea’s gaze snapped to the Aesir. “Do I get to pick them?”

“Of course.”

Euriel touched Idun on the arm. “Mother, you can make some things, can’t you?”

Idun shrugged. “Of course. I don’t know why we didn’t dress her before this.”

“Because she was hopping around like cat with its tail on fire,” Wren growled.

Gaea waved a dismissive hand at Wren. “It wasn’t important. I’m not cold. I’m not even certain why I need to be modest—although, I have this instinct to be.” She frowned and her brow furrowed. “I wonder where that comes from? I must get that from all of you.”

Bannor was beginning to realize that while they may have burgeoned from Gaea as entities, that they in fact shaped her perceptions and intellect. They were as much a part of her, as she was them.

“Well, if she wants to wander around without any clothes, I ain’t complaining,” Tal said with a grin.

Gaea focused on the fighting man. “Are you saying I’m attractive?”

Tal chuckled. “I’m saying you got a lot of great stuff in all the right places, and it ain’t hard on my eyes at all. That’s what I’m saying.”

“Right places?” Gaea pursed her lips and looked under the minimal covering of Wren’s cloak. “Which parts are the ‘right places’?”

“Mother, never mind,” Wren said. “Let’s get all the right places covered up, so you can eat.”

Gaea put a hand on her hip and frowned at Wren. “Which one of us is the Mother here? Must you order me about?”

Wren put hands on hips. “I’m simply trying to be practical and protect you. When parents get old and helpless, their children take care of them.”

The goddess opened her mouth then closed it. She looked back to Euriel. “I get to pick, right?”

“Yes, Mother,” Euriel said.

“Let us go then,” Gaea said. She raised her chin and made an imperious sniff. “Wren, Euriel and Idun will dress me.” She made a dismissing gesture. “You do whatever it is you need to do.” She smiled at Azir. “Son Vanidaar, son Azir, if you will assist me, I would like to walk the rest of the way.”

Wren’s father and brother helped lead the goddess after Euriel and Idun.

Wren glared at the goddess’ back.

Ziedra had her arms folded and was grinning. “You created a monster.”

“Gah!” Wren looked out. “She went from sweet to snot, in one transformation!” She turned and glared at Marna and Octavia. “Did you like quadruple that body’s supply of obstinance?”

Marna chuckled. “I think she spoke true. She is a reflection of all of you.”

Desiray leaned close to Wren with a knowing smile. “She just emulated what she saw.”

Wren growled.

“Well, it’s been fun,” Tal said. “I got stuff to do. Kid, Megan is back in charge, I got field work. Just scream if you need me, okay?”

Corim gave the other man a clenched fist high sign.

Tal nodded. He swung his shaladen, slashed a hole in the air, stepped through and was gone in a rush of collapsing atmosphere.

Wren looked where the big man had gone. “I just don’t know what we’re going to do if Gaea keeps acting like this.”

Damay shook her head. “For some reason I find you being bothered by her willful behavior extremely amusing.”

“It’s not funny,” the blonde savant said with a stomp of her foot.

“Wren,” Daena said. “You’re just hacked because she won’t do every little thing you tell her. No matter how old that creature in subspace is, this one is brand new. She’s a little kid and she’s having fun, and you’re trying to be all serious and stuff.”

Wren clenched her fists. “We don’t have time for fun! We have to find that bleedin’ genemar thing before whoever has it—uses it. We need her to help us find it.”

“Wren, I know this must be frustrating, but Daena is right,” Loric said. “Imagine being eons old and never having had a body or any extended interaction with a real environment or sensations. That would regress the most staid creature. And that’s just it—she’s not staid. She’s an amalgam of traits assembled from her rather youthful children.”

“I thought she had her own personality,” Cassandra said. “She sure seemed to.”

“You always faced her under particular circumstances. Wren did the summoning both times, right? It’s not surprising she mirrors a lot of our little force savant’s traits—” He grinned at Wren. “Notably her fondness for authority figures.”

“She’s being a brat,” Wren fumed. “I am not a brat.”

Cassandra put hands on hips. “Excuse me?” She opened her mouth then closed it. “No, I better not go there.”

Desiray grinned. “I will.” She poked Wren in the ribs. “It is so sweet seeing you deviled with it for a change.”

Wren scowled at her.

“Give up on pushing her around,” Daena said. “I’m sure she has an infinite supply of stubborn. Be clever about it. She wants to experience new stuff. Just bait her.” She looked to Janai. “It works for me,” she raised her chin. “Doesn’t it, Jan?”

The elf princess raised an eyebrow. “It appears to be effective on those with more than a little red in their hair.”

“Can we table that for a bit?” Cassandra said. “When do we get to look at those items we took out of Starholme?”

“Cassandra…” Loric made a warning growl.

“Hey, those are some awesome magic items. I’d like some time to examine them. First one artifacts are—”

“—not something you should be toying with.” He said, interrupting her. He looked around. “Any of you—well, perhaps you, May.”

Damay nodded to him. “Thank you for acknowledging my adulthood.” She let out a breath. “Perhaps it’s my fondness for sparklies, but I have some desire to look at them as well. Perhaps, we should make plans to look at them together—say after dinner… to see if they are something that might assist us in our endeavors.”

“Prudent,” Loric said. “Until then, Janai, Sarai, can we deposit those items in one of the ghost vaults?”

“Loric, they’re fine in my cloak,” Desiray said.

“No, they’re not—they’re where you can touch them.”

Desiray growled.

Cassandra sniffed. “If I can’t play, neither can you.”

“Lady Desiray,” Octavia said. “Can I impose upon you to bring my host to Wysteri’s laboratory? I’ve called her and she will be here directly.”

“Sure.”

In a matter of moments, purple haired Wysteri and pale Mercedes came around a corner, the two lady physicians bobbing and nodding to the red-haired mecha.

“Go ahead, Loric,” Janai said. “Megan has access and says she will meet you at the royal infirmary and take you and Desiray from there to the vault.”

“Excellent.”

“Ric, if you don’t mind I’d like to accompany you,” Damay said.

“Of course,” he responded.

Loric, Desiray, Damay, Cassandra, Octavia and the two other physicians headed off on their delivery errands.

“I’m going to have to get used to everybody calling to one another without moving,” Bannor said.

“Oh, it is sooo awesome,” Janai said. She touched the bow over her shoulder. “The shaladen’s other powers are nice, but just the telepathy.” She rolled her eyes. “It is sweet as candy.”

He frowned. “You don’t use it to peek where you shouldn’t do you?”

Janai gave him a shocked expression. “Bannor! Perish.” She grinned. “Peeking in people’s minds would take all the fun out of already knowing what they’re thinking.”

“That and Koass would kick her arse,” Sarai said, hands on hips. “We were told that we would be able to stay on as honorary Shael Dal as long as our behavior remained ‘exemplary’. I don’t know about Janai, but I’m going to behave. I too have grown fond of the telepathy in just the short time we’ve had it. Mother is always peeking in on me, I can feel it. I know she and father love being able to keep track of us no matter what they are doing.”

“Telepathy, does have a very profound effect on one’s life,” Marna said. “Notice how its prevalence affects the Felspar household.”

Wren shook her head. “Learning to live around it was interesting,” Wren said letting out a breath. She looked around. “Gaea’s stomach was growling, but truth told, so is mine.” She rubbed her stomach. “I can’t imagine a first one ever getting fat. I’m burning up the energy faster than I can take it in.”

Bannor looked to Sarai. “Food is good. You’re right about these bodies, the weird thing is you don’t realize you’re hungry until someone mentions eating. Then you’re starving!”

Marna’s brow furrowed. “It must be an unintentional side-effect of some of the sensory controls. To be honest, those bodies are not perfected. They were kind of a rushed together solution.”

The blonde savant stared at her. She looked to Ziedra. She reached out and touched the magic savant’s hair. “Marna, you must be jesting. That’s a rushed solution? She’s beautiful.” She looked down at the lean lines of her own body which would be the envy of any woman. She raised her head, glowing blue eyes wide. “Heck, even I’m beautiful. How is that ‘rushed’?”

Marna made a dismissing gesture. “The symmetries of efficient and appealing humanoid design are reference templates. I pick them out of a library and simply make an adjustment or two. That takes little time. It’s all the fine touches where the refinement and time are involved.”

“A library?” Ziedra said with a tilt of her head. “So, you just picked my body out of a catalogue?”

The ancient Kriar shrugged. “In laymen’s terms, the equivalent, yes.”

Dulcere put a hand on Marna’s shoulder and leaned in. <Mother, I’m going to check with the Shal’kar and coordinate things.>

“And I better check in with Megan,” Corim added. “Food sounds good to me though, so I’ll get to that and meet you back in the dining hall.”

“I so wish I didn’t have pressing things to do,” Marna offered. “Seeing Gaea eat would probably be entertaining. Like you Wren, I feel a pressing need to move forward on finding the genemar. I am going to follow up some leads and see if anything has been breathed in the dark realms on Homeworld about it.”

Dulcere had started to walk away and turned back. <Mother, you’re going to stay out of the dark realms, right? We’re talking verbal checking, right?>

Marna smiled. “Verbal first. I was thinking of putting our miss Quasar to use, since she is so eager to solve this problem with the Baronians who are now entangled with the Daergons.”

<Good,> Dulcere said. <Wren is having enough mother trouble without you adding your stubbornness.> She pointed a finger. <Stay out of trouble.>

The elder Kriar sighed. “Yes, daughter.” She turned to Wren. “I will look in on Gaea later. If you are still having problems with her, perhaps I can be a little more persuasive.”

Wren rocked her head back. “I hope so.”

Marna nodded to everyone, kissed her daughter on the cheek and strolled off down the corridor.

Corim put a hand on Wren’s shoulder. “Hey, I wouldn’t fret too much. I think we have some time. Let Gaea come around. I have a feeling she will. I think Daena’s approach is a sure winner—lead the horse with carrots when all else fails. She’s smart enough to figure it out, but the way she is now—she won’t care.”

Wren nodded.

<Until later,> Dulcere bowed to them.

She turned and together she and Corim headed the other way down the corridor.

Ziedra leaned close to Wren. “Hey, Rad and I need to go back to our rooms for a little bit. I’m going to change clothes and catch up with you in a bit, okay?”

Wren nodded at patted her friend on the shoulder.

The ascendant of magic and her husband inclined their heads to everyone and headed toward the back rooms.

The blonde savant looked to Bannor. She folded her arms. “You’ve been really quiet, and you missed a bunch of opportunities to pick on me.”

He smiled. “The line was too long.”

That forced a laugh from her. “Yeah, I guess I am too serious. It’s just this stuff scares me.”

“I understand,” he said. “Have a little faith in Gaea, you had faith before. I don’t know her like you do, but…” His voice faded.

“But…???” Wren prompted.

He shook his head. “Does she seem the type to test people?”

Wren nodded vigorously. “Oh yeah. She’s tested me more than once… I—”

Bannor winked at her and thumped her on the shoulder.

Wren stared at him with her mouth open. She rubbed the bridge of her nose. She looked to Sarai. “You know, sometimes your One is pretty damn smart.”

Sarai smiled and punched him in the shoulder. “Sometimes.”

Return to Contents

Chapter Five

Spanking an eons-old goddess of
creation, now that’s a new experience I can
look forward to…
—Liandra “Wren” Kergatha,
Second Princess of Cosmodarus

The T’Evagduran sisters, Daena and himself tagged along with Wren to the dining hall where the Kul’Amaron defense force were taking their meals. Apparently, King T’Evagduran had arranged a kind of relay where “uninfected” food was being brought in from the city proper. With so many immorts in residence, it was essential to keep the tables stocked with various easily grabbed food items like bread, cheese, and fruit.

The valkyries from Idun’s cadre and the halls of Valhalla seemed to be enjoying their vacation from Gladshiem immensely. The ones not on guard tours lounged around the dining hall in groups chatting. A few were still tending wounds, others cared for weapons and mended clothes. The Kriar guards, the allied Baronians, Shael Dal and members of family Felspar also used the area as a gathering point. The four groups mingled freely, all being curious about one another.

The Kriar males were often seen in the company of the winged ladies with what appeared to be a special preference for the ones with red hair. In his short stint, he’d seen as many as three around one valkyrie. Being confident, aggressive women, the winged ladies seemed well pleased by the attention. Even prudish and reserved Jhord had broken down and had one of the off-duty Kriar on her arm.

When they followed Wren into the chamber, there were perhaps two dozen people, scattered about the room’s four tiers. Three Kriar, two females, and one male were apparently off shift. The three of them sat in a circle together with Desiray’s two sons Caldorian and Sebenreth along with two valkyries and one of the Baronian ladies. The whole group was hunched over studying something in their hands. Each person also had a small pile of objects gathered near their knees.

As he watched, one of the Kriar made a clucking sound with his tongue and tossed down a group of flat objects.

Wren was studying the circle too. “Damn, those two are Desiray’s kids all right. Only here a couple days and they got a gambling racket going.”

He looked at Wren. “Gambling?”

“Haven’t you ever played cards?”

“Not for money.”

The blonde savant winked a glowing blue eye at him. “If you haven’t played for money, then you haven’t really played cards.”

Sarai rolled her eyes. “Guilders.”

Janai rubbed her hands together and grinned. “I wonder what the buy-in is?”

Sarai elbowed her sister. “Leave it to you to be familiar with such a thing.”

“Are you saying you didn’t play when you were in the ranks?”

“That’s different. That’s between soldiers.”

Janai rolled her eyes.

The five of them went to the food table that had several trays of different kinds of cheese and bread. There were also bowls of crunchfruit, wine berries, and others.

Wren took a crunch fruit and rinsed it in some water and wiped it with a cloth and took a healthy bite. She looked around by the door. “I wonder how long it will take her to pick out clothing.”

“With her stomach growling like that, I don’t imagine long,” Daena mused with a smile.

Wren smiled with her. She looked to Bannor. “If we have to, do you think we can find this genemar thing without her help?”

“Probably,” he answered. “What we need her most for is what she knows about the Chyrith and the Baronians. I think it will be a while before she develops any powers that are useful to our search.”

“I wonder what she can do,” Daena said. “I mean, do you think she will have nola powers like us?”

He shrugged. “She certainly has the energy for it. Enough for you, me, and a hundred like us.”

“Why is that?” Daena asked. “Can one tao be bigger than another?”

“Definitely,” he said. “Your tao is far stronger than mine, denser so to speak—” He looked at her with one eye closed. “As you well know.”

Daena caught her breath, her face reddened and she rubbed the back of her head. “Oh, right—I forgot.”

“What makes one tao stronger than another you suppose?” Wren asked. “Why does she have so much more tao energy than you or I?”

“Mostly from the joining; when she and Hella merged, her tao absorbed Hella’s spirit and life-energy. Remember you were saying how savants receive the broadcast energy through that link to Eternity I talked about?”

Wren nodded.

“Daena now has two links. Her link to Eternity like we have, she barely uses now. She has a bigger one that sits right on top of Starholme. Even though she doesn’t use it, the idle power alone is enough to make her a lot stronger than you or I. After Kell messed with her, the link was opened up considerably. The presence of all that power is gradually changing her tao.”

“Change?” Wren stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“You know your tao doesn’t stay the same, right? The threads and patterns get more complex with age and the amount of power you use.”

She tilted her head. “Really? Are spirits that way?”

“Spirits grow too,” he said. “Now, this is just from observing people of different ages. The spirits of great elders like Loric and Aarlen are many times stronger than an average person. However, the difference they gain over the thousands of summers of life is smaller than what we can gain in a year or so.”

“Whoa, I never realized the difference was that huge.”

“In that way, we far surpass normal people, yes,” he admitted. “Wielded by the right person, even a tiny bit of spirit energy can do a lot. These elders not only have more spirit power but are dozens of times more efficient with it. So, they can do things that we can’t even though we’re spiritually more powerful. The main thing that sets us apart is how quickly we can increase our power. Simply using your nola and pushing your limits makes your tao stronger. Kind of the same way that exercise makes your muscles stronger.”

“I never realized,” Wren said. “I also never realized you knew so much about it!”

He scrubbed a hand in his hair. “It’s not what I know really. Some of my understanding is from some of the stuff on energy that Mercedes crammed in my head. I had her teach me how to do that energy thing you were doing to treat Sarai.” He looked to his wife-to-be. “Kind of a waste now that she doesn’t need it.”

“If you know how to do that,” Sarai said, raising her chin. “It won’t go to waste.” She smiled. “Trust me.”

His brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“Never mind.”

Bannor caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to look. Gaea had appeared in the archway, her elbows held by the two males of the Kergatha family and flanked Euriel and Idun. She wore a jeweled hair net over her extremely long black hair that had been brushed out to a glossy luster. She wore a deep cut violet blouse and skirt that were chased with gold brocade. Strangely, her feet were still bare. Why would that be?

As he watched the goddess move he had to draw a breath. Perhaps it was just the programming down deep in his body, but seeing her like this made a stirring in him that he only felt with Sarai.

He noticed that she seemed to affect a lot of people in the room even though she hadn’t done anything to attract attention to herself. All of the valkyries looked up, and after only a few seconds rose to their feet and faced her. Caldorian and Sebenreth openly goggled at her. The Kriar seemed the least affected by her presence, but even those ancient creatures with their powerful minds turned to look at her.

Bannor gazed at the all-mother and realized that somehow that amazing amount of life-force had increased even further. What was holding that body together? Brow furrowed, he studied her even as she moved into the room. He felt her attention on him. He was still lost in the myriad of threads spinning around the green mother as she stepped right up to him. Maybe he was mistaken. Perhaps she just appeared to have that much power. The material threads of her flesh showed no signs of fatigue or stress.

“Son Bannor?” He was so focused that he jerked when she put a hand on his shoulder and peered into his eyes. His sudden movement made her flinch. “Oh.” She leaned back and smiled. “Is all that concern and attention for me?”

“Yes,” he said. He let out a breath. “You seem to be walking better.”

She raised her chin. “I am.” She looked down at her feet and wiggled her toes. “Don’t like shoes though. I feel much more secure with them off.” She looked to Wren. “Did you have some time to relax? You seemed tense.”

Wren pursed her lips and brushed at her long blonde hair. “Perhaps you should eat something.”

“Thank you, I will.” She looked at the table behind them. She pushed away from Azir and Vanidaar, walked past Wren and stood at the buffet, gazing down at the trays of comestibles.

Bannor glanced around the chamber. The individuals who had stood up and focused on Gaea’s entrance were relaxing and going back to what they were doing.

He looked back to Gaea. She stood with her green hands pressed together and staring at each item on the table in turn. From her expression, she was completely lost. She had no idea what she was looking at.

Wren stepped up by her shoulder. “Would you like me to pick something for you?”

Gaea glanced at her, dark jewel-like eyes wide. “Please.”

The blonde savant started to reach for some bread, changed her mind and picked out a large ripe honey berry, glistening with gold dewy juice. “Try this. It’s called honey berry.” She handed it to her.

The goddess accepted the fruit and just gazed at it.

Wren leaned closer and tapped her own lips with her index finger and pantomimed biting.

Tentatively, Gaea opened her mouth, found the berry and bit down slowly.

She just stared at Wren mouth not moving. Wren took a fruit from the bowl bit into and chewed.

Gaea mimicked the chewing after a moment. The expression on her face changed from one of study to one of delight. She looked down at the berry and bit into it again.

“Swallow Mother,” Wren said. “Swallow.” She rubbed her throat to indicate what she meant.

Gaea made a humming sound and gulped down the mouthful.

“Ah, better. Mmmm.” She consumed the last of the berry, and immediately began fishing around in the bowl for another like it. “That was—good!” She found what she was looking for and bit down on it and chewed happily.

The childlike glee on the goddess face made a little pang in his chest. It didn’t hurt that the goddess, despite being green, was an extremely attractive female, one that seemed helpless and in need of protection.

Gaea finished her second berry and dabbed at her mouth. “I think I am going to like eating.”

“I hope that body doesn’t gain weight easily,” Janai giggled.

The green-mother focused on Wren. “Daughter,” she said, face turning serious. “I apologize for making you worry, please forgive my willfulness.” She put her arms around Wren’s neck and pulled her close.

With a sigh, the blonde savant leaned down into the hug and wrapped her arms around Gaea. The goddess made a cooing sound, taking a breath and rubbing her cheek against Wren’s. The embrace lasted for long moments.

The ancient creature pulled back with a look of surprise and dismay on her face. “All these eons I have been missing out! Hugs are much better this way!”

Wren blinked myopically as if she couldn’t see straight. She caught herself on the edge of the table. Shaking her head, she gulped and drew a shaky breath.

The green mother’s brow furrowed, and she looked concerned. “Daughter? Did I somehow injure you?”

“Huh? What?” Her voice cracked. She shook her head again like she had a pebble stuck inside her ear. “No. I’m not hurt. That was intense. I thought your other hugs were pretty strong.”

Gaea leaned closer. “You did not like it?”

“Oh, it felt a little too good is all.”

The all-mother looked perplexed. “How can something feel too good?”

Wren clucked her tongue and winced. “Well, let’s just say that beyond a certain level of enjoyment—it’s something we would prefer to experience it in private.”

“Why?”

Bannor felt the sting of that question. How did you explain the need for privacy to a creature that spent eternity alone? He could see in Wren’s expression that she understood the problem.

“There’s a limit to how intimate two people can be with others around. It’s a social custom.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t necessarily make a lot of sense. For instance, here in Malan, kissing in public is tolerated but somewhat frowned upon. Other places, it’s all right, some places it’s not even permissible for a man and woman to touch in the sight of others.”

“That’s silly,” Gaea said, frowning.

“Humans are silly creatures,” Janai said.

“So…” Gaea said, drawing the word out. “Hugging is intimate?”

Wren opened her mouth, started to say something and stopped herself.

“Hugging isn’t normally considered intimate,” Daena offered. “The way you do it—the way you make it feel—that’s the intimate part.”

“I didn’t think sensations had anything to do with being intimate,” Gaea said. “I mean I’m not deliberately causing sensations.”

“Mother, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Bannor said, stepping into the conversation. “Wren is simply uncomfortable feeling like that in front of others. Sensations that strong can cause a loss of control and that can be—embarrassing.”

Gaea looked lost again.

“She’s not going to get it until she actually experiences it,” Janai said.

“Can one of you show me?” Gaea asked with an innocent expression.

“Uhhh,” Wren said.

“Well,” Bannor hedged.

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Vanidaar said.

“I’ll show you,” Janai said with a grin.

“You will?!” Gaea said with a bright expression.

“You will?” Daena repeated with a frown.

Janai pulled a chair from a neighboring table and slid it over to Gaea. She turned it sideways.

“Jan,” Sarai said with a warning tone.

“Sar,” Janai soothed. “This is nothing to get upset over, just watch.”

Wren was eyeing the second princess, but didn’t say anything.

Gaea was excited again. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just sit here sideways on this chair, with your left arm over the back. I have to touch you, if that’s okay.”

The goddess nodded. She maneuvered onto the chair as directed and wiggled to get comfortable. “What now?”

“Just relax for a moment. I’m going to touch your shoulders.”

Gaea smiled. “This is exciting.”

She looked to Wren whose brow was furrowed.

Idun walked up and put her arm around her grandson and leaned against him. Azir put his arm around the pantheon lady as they watched the demonstration. What was Janai going to do and how would the green mother react?

Janai drew a breath, she gathered Gaea’s long hair together and moved it around to the front. She placed her thumbs and fingers carefully on the all-mother’s shoulders, feeling around until she found something. Gently rubbing her thumbs back and forth she pressed in.

Gaea made a little noise, her chin rising as responded to whatever she’d felt.

“That’s what you were doing to me,” Sarai murmured next to him.

“Well, I can’t do it as well as she can,” he offered.

Janai moved her hands in a careful rhythmic cadence pushing at different spots on Gaea’s shoulders, shoulder blades, and moving down her spine toward her buttocks.

“Mmmm,” Gaea hummed. “That feels—nice.”

“Now,” Janai said. She moved the heel of her hand to the small of Gaea’s back. “This might be a little surprising.”

“O-okay,” Gaea said.

Janai did something with her fingers. Through his nola sight he saw magical threads race out from the elf princess’ hand reaching throughout the Gaea’s body. She pulled on the all-mother’s shoulder and shoved against the small of her back, focusing a burst of energy into the green flesh under her palm.

Gaea’s eyes which were hooded and relaxed from the gentle massage went wide, she sucked a breath and her whole form shook. “Wooohagh!” she let out. Her hand that was gripping the top of the chair clamped down and crushed the wood, snapping the upright section in half. “O-o-oh oh my!” she gasped, hugging herself. She took heavy breaths.

Wren rushed over and took Gaea’s shoulder. “Are you all right, Mother?”

“O-okay,” Gaea held up a placating hand and took a heavy breath. She swallowed. “O-okay. Now I understand about be—being—embarrassed. Oooh.”

Daena looked sidelong at Janai. “You’ve never done that to me.”

“Of course I haven’t,” the elf lady responded. “You’d never let me near you again if I did that.”

“Oh.” The girl’s face colored.

Bannor stepped over and leaned down to look into the green mother’s jewel like eyes. “I hope you’re not upset with Janai.”

“N-no,” Gaea shook her head. She reached back and touched Janai’s hand. She drew a breath, held it, and let it out slow. “Mmmm. That was—interesting.” She looked up at him and smiled. “Better than eating.”

He grinned. “I’m not surprised.” He looked to Janai. “With all due respect to the princess’ magical hands, those two pieces of fruit are not enough to keep you going. I’m certain you’re still hungry.”

Gaea glanced back to Janai. He could tell in the goddess’ eyes that there would be further inquiry concerning what she had done. Which he had no doubt had been a calculated gesture on the princess’ part. Wasn’t Daena enough of a playmate for her?

Gaea straightened up and rubbed her stomach. “It still does ache a little.”

“She probably should get something to drink,” Sarai said. She glanced at Janai. “Something not fermented.”

“Fermented?” Gaea asked.

Bannor patted the green mother on the shoulder. “Let’s not go there.”

“Please,” Wren said.

“I wish we had something better than just plain staples,” Janai said. “Her first meal should be something really good; bread and cheese are so bland.”

“We have all the things to make something good,” Sarai said. “Just nobody who has the time and the ability to cook.”

“I could make something decent,” Euriel said. “I would be lost in a fancy elven kitchen though.”

“Mother, I have seen you cook precisely twice,” Wren said. “They were disasters.”

“Experiments—” the Aesir woman emphasized. “Experiments—not disasters.”

“She did roasted dragon once,” Azir said with a smile. “It wasn’t so bad.”

Vanidaar clucked his tongue. “Enough sauce will disguise anything.”

“Hey,” Euriel said punching him in the shoulder.

He leaned forward. “Note, I will only remark on her cooking when she can’t break my arm.”

The Aesir woman frowned at him. “We can put that to a test.”

“She is a warrior, and the daughter of a pantheon lady,” Idun said with a sniff. “She doesn’t need to know how to cook. She has menials for that.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Gaea said. “It gives me something to look forward to.” She picked up another honey berry and bit into it, sighing in contentment as she chewed.

Wren took a knife and sliced some bread and cheese and put them on a plate. She sectioned some sweet melon and other fruits and placed them on a plate and handed it to Gaea.

“All this for me?” Gaea said.

“Mother, when you get a good appetite going you’ll eat a lot more than this, trust me. I ate more than that when I was a skinny little mortal.”

They all made some plates and retreated to another table higher up the terrace so as to stay out of the way of other citadel guardians coming in to eat and rest.

Gaea was soaking up all the attention, which they had anticipated. After being alone most of her eons long existence, the opportunity to interact in the real world and partake of sensations was like a drug to the goddess.

As promised, Ziedra and her husband did come back to join in things. The ascendant of magic had dressed in white, which contrasted her dusky skin. She’d braided her dark hair, and had taken time to put on makeup. Layered on top of the perfection that was the body of an ascendant she was breathtaking sight.

As Bannor watched her interaction with her husband, he noticed that the time out had been to catch a breath and confirm their relationship after the changes. That he understood. He and Sarai had done much the same during her changes. There was no doubt that Radian was enjoying the bigger, exaggerated, and more powerful version of his wife and he was making sure she knew it. Like any woman would, she obviously enjoyed being doted on, served, and touched. Of course, even before the change, he had noted that they had an expressive relationship.

He saw Wren forcing herself to relax, trying to enjoy spending time with Gaea. The longer he spent around the green mother the more interesting the dichotomy of her nature took him. Things like magic, the nature of the universe, and general philosophy, Gaea understood with an insight and intuition one expected of a truly ancient creature. Personal and social things, she had little identification with or knowledge. It wasn’t that she didn’t actually know them, she actually seemed to, but being a cosmic creature that lived out of time, there was simply no context. A context she was rapidly building as she explored what it meant to have a physical body.

Time went on and it appeared that Wren had held in her desires to pursue business as long as she was able. “Mother, I don’t want to ruin your dinner, but I think perhaps we should spend at least a few moments considering why you are here.”

Gaea sighed. “I suppose we shall have to address that unpleasantness. I was really hoping to enjoy myself a bit more…” Her voice trailed off.

“Mother, it’s not like that,” Wren said. She took a sip of water from her goblet. “I don’t want to take anything away from you. I just don’t want to be sitting idle while you are acclimating yourself. You don’t need to be able to participate in order to provide some direction and ideas—assuming that you can do that.”

The all-mother nodded and rubbed at her green face.

“Now, the main thing seems we need to resolve this issue with the genemar. It doesn’t matter if we actually capture it, as long as it can’t be used, intentionally or not, to blow the dren out of everything.” Wren said. “If, for some reason we simply can’t get to it, is there a way to prevent it from doing that entropic whatever thing you told us about?”

Gaea raised an eyebrow. “Avoid it perhaps.” She stopped. She pursed her lips, picked up a piece of bread, took a big bite and chewed with a thoughtful expression. “Yes, now that I am outside like this I could direct and perform a shift. That would prevent the genemar from affecting me.”

“Would that be a hard thing?” Ziedra asked.

“Not with you to help me, my Dear,” Gaea remarked. “You did a marvelous job of binding. It wouldn’t be any harder than that.”

“Then we’re good to go, I’m still getting used to this body,” the ascendant of magic said with a grin.

“The only problem that I see,” Gaea said, now munching on a piece of cheese. “Is that shifting is only a temporary solution.”

“How temporary?” Bannor asked.

The green mother sighed. “In the hands of creature familiar with a genemar, it might delay them only a few bells. To one without specific knowledge of its function, it could be score-days or possibly never.”

“It’s something I suppose,” Wren mused, rubbing her chin. “But they wouldn’t know this ‘shift’ had taken place unless they actually tried to activate it, correct?”

“Correct,” Gaea said.

“Is there a way to know if the genemar has been activated and trace that back to the source?”

Gaea opened her mouth and tilted her head. She blinked dark eyes at Wren. “Yes—yes there is. That is so very clever, Daughter.” She nodded reached out and touched Wren’s face. The blonde savant leaned her face against the goddess’ hand.

“Excellent,” Bannor said. “That protects us, gives us time. If we haven’t found the genemar by the time they activate it, then we still have a shot at getting to them before they use it again.”

“I think Wren’s thinking is sound as well,” Radian remarked. “I’m still confused though. If the Daergons have the genemar like we surmise, why would they use its destructive power? The Kriar have too much invested in the subpaths. Their whole gate transportation network would be annihilated. All the planets the Kriar are trying to get access to would be destroyed. They have nothing to gain. Not even power on Homeworld because the Kriar would never accept them after causing so much damage to the livelihood of their citizenry.”

“Perhaps those in possession of the device have been deliberately misled as to its function,” Vanidaar suggested.

“I can’t think of any other reason anyone would be crazy enough to do that,” Azir said leaning back in his chair. “I mean it’s like blowing up a house while you’re still inside.”

“Mother, do you think there’s a permanent solution?” Bannor asked.

The green mother leaned back in her chair, curling her fingers in the strands of her long hair. She pressed her hands together, thumbs under her chin as she considered. After a few moments she looked at them. “There may be a way. I can see possibilities, but nothing I could point at. It would take time and research. The death response to the ‘kill signal’ is something integral to the entities that comprise my subspace body. It’s not really a flaw or an exploit. It is an understanding of how my kind of life-form exists. I don’t know if that weakness can be changed, and even if it can, if it can be propagated fast enough to affect a permanent resolution to the problem.”

“But you just said this ‘shifting’ thing would prevent the genemar from working on you.”

“Yes,” she admitted. “To kill my subspace body, they essentially have to know where to aim. I can protect myself by shifting where that vulnerability exists. The problem is there are a small number of places to hide—a score at best. Finding where I’ve hidden is a matter of time.”

“But, you could keep shuffling the hiding spot.”

“To buy time, yes,” Gaea acknowledged with a nod. “The shift isn’t fast, and not every spot is available from every other spot. If they are persistent they will eventually guess right.”

“That’s fine, as long as we have a way to protect you while we trace the signal and kick their arses,” Wren said.

“It sounds like we have a plan of action,” Vanidaar offered to the group. The mage brushed at his copper hair and leaned on an elbow as he spoke. “Ziedra and Gaea will work on hiding Gaea’s subspace body. Hopefully, they will come up with a way to move it successive times if it becomes necessary. We set up a trigger so that if the genemar is activated to help us trace its location. We will continue to pursue the location of the genemar and fight the Baronians as necessary. In the meantime, Gaea can start researching a permanent resistance to the device. Since they have a vested interest, this is where Marna and Octavia may be our best resource.”

“I agree up to the point of getting the assistance of the Kriar,” Gaea said.

“Why, what’s wrong with getting them to help with a permanent solution?”

“To reveal that much about the structure of my subspace body predicates that they know how the genemar works. If they know how it works, they can create one.”

“So,” Wren said. “Like we said, it would be stupid for them to do that. They lose out too.”

“Daughter, you are being naïve. Homeworld has everything they need. They are not tied to this universe. They can destroy Eternity and look for habitable worlds in another continuum. It is very possible the Daergons seek to use the genemar in order to force the Kriar council to cut their losses and move on. They will not live in a universe where their gates will not function.” She moved her gaze over everyone, those jewel-like eyes taking on an intensity that was very new for this incarnation of Gaea. “The Kriar have wandered for eons. If they take permanent worlds here, the current ruling body cements its position as the ‘saviors’ of their people. They already have huge public support because the Techstars adopted Cassandra and she removed the Jyril curse. The only chance the Daergons have of regaining power is if they disrupt the council, and keep Homeworld from putting down roots. The coup that Marna is dodging is evidence of that.”

“But Mother, Marna wants to stay here. Even if they have the genemar they won’t use it.”

“Daughter, what’s stopping them from changing their minds? Let’s be clear, Marna does not like that I can control those subpaths. Their civilization’s biggest advantage is largely their ability to move around as they do. The fact that I can disrupt that gives me tremendous leverage over them. It puts them at a tactical disadvantage, one she may at some point decide is too inconvenient.”

“But that doesn’t mean they have to kill you if they decide to go elsewhere.”

“No, it doesn’t. Don’t misunderstand me, I know Marna. I have touched her spirit, and she herself would not attack me in such a fashion unless severely provoked. However, she is a figurehead. Her power amongst her people while great is not absolute. If it was, she wouldn’t be hiding here would she?”

Daena leaned forward with her chin in her palms gazing at Gaea. “Mother, are you the same Gaea who didn’t know what eating was earlier? How do you know all this?”

“Child, I may not know what it is to be flesh, but politics and motivations—those things I know well. My children deviled each other with it for millennia. When considering the actions of one who is not completely trusted, you must expect the worst. I trust Marna to an extent, but I have no confidence in her council. Their decisions concerning the Baronians have been suspect at best.”

“I think Daena is wondering more about when you became aware of all of this. It wasn’t discussed. Looking at the faces around the table, much of it is new to us. When did you learn all this?”

“Daughter, this body is new. Sensations are new. I have been enjoying them. I came here to help. Did you think I was doing nothing all this time?”

“I—” Wren stopped, and her brow furrowed. “We’ve been with you the whole time.”

Gaea looked perplexed. “Since when is doing more than one thing at once unusual? Marna and I have been conversing all along since she left to do her investigation. Cassandra, Megan, and the other Shael Dal have been chatting with me as well.”

Wren’s mouth dropped open.

The all-mother’s brow furrowed. “Child, please, you didn’t really think my mental capacity was that feeble did you? Now that I am here in real time, I can telepath normally. I might be challenged by the physical aspects of this body, but I assure you my ability to communicate and multitask are undiminished.”

Radian rubbed the back of his head. “Wren, come on, you lived at the house. Name a time momma Cassandra or Dorian weren’t carrying on two or three conversations.”

“Oh. I should know that. I’m just being dumb.”

Gaea smiled at her.

“That still leaves us at an impasse,” Bannor said. “If you can’t trust Marna with that knowledge. Can you solve the problem without her help?”

Gaea rubbed her forehead. “It is not an easy thing, and I am not an expert on heredity…”

“Wait,” Idun said. “You just said that you felt Marna was trustworthy, and without saying it, you implied that she might be pressured into giving up that knowledge. Why not simply safeguard the information?”

“How? Once a secret is revealed, it can always be divined by chronological dissection.”

Radian raised a finger for attention. “The council shield my mother and Loric put around Kul’Amaron is proof against time scans.”

“Really?” Gaea said. “What about physical access? Timescans done inside the barrier.”

“Ummm,” Radian winced. “I know time diving could be prevented, I don’t think we’ve ever set up a screen that way because of all the anomalies that creates. Everything inside would be out of touch like you were in subspace because event transphase was suspended. Usually, if we want to do something without someone being able to record it, we do a timewipe.”

“You have chronomasters that can do that?” Gaea asked.

“It’s only been done a couple times that I’m aware of,” Radian answered. “I think Elsbeth can do it. I don’t know if father Loric can. There are others, but I don’t know if we could trust any of them.”

“Aarlen and her daughters,” Wren said. “Not a chance would we want them to come across it. If you want somebody you trust to do it, Mother, Koass could probably do it.”

“I would only consent to letting Marna know this material if the shield is proven to be sufficiently opaque, and someone of suitable skill time wipes the research areas. Otherwise, I am not sharing the specific knowledge of necrotizing my subspace body.”

“I think we understand the sensitivity of that information,” Euriel said. “Whoever had it could hold half of Eternity for ransom.”

“Tell me, Mother,” Wren said, her expression turning grave. “Do you think it’s possible to only kill a specific subpath? Cause a disruption in just one particular area?”

“The application of the genemar is to chain react all the subspace life that makes up my body.”

“If we speculate the Daergons have the genemar. Suppose they don’t want to cut and run. What if they’re trying figure out how the thing works? If I were evil, that’s what I’d be after, figuring out how to just kill a small area. Like Radian said, blowing up the whole house with you in it, that’s not very bright. Blowing up one room when there’s billions of rooms… Now you have a weapon you can aim. What does that weapon aim at? The gates the Kriar prize so much. If the Daergons have that, they can hold Homeworld hostage. They wouldn’t use it right away. They’d wait until the Kriar are situated. Then once enough people and materials are at risk, they could use the threat.”

“I don’t know if that’s what’s going on, but it sure is scary,” Bannor said. “Didn’t Marna say one of those gates blowing up would destroy the whole planet they were on?”

“No, more,” Daena breathed. “Bigger, a lot bigger!”

Gaea’s brow furrowed. “That is a truly daunting prospect. One I had not considered. I don’t know if it’s possible, but I have to believe it is.”

“Whether that’s their plan or not, the very possibility is the reason this genemar thing must be found and destroyed,” Euriel said. “I agree with Gaea that any information concerning this thing be held in the utmost secrecy…”

Bannor felt a twinge of unease, a subtle shifting of threads that made a chill run up his back. The effect did not seem to be localized, but it did seem to be close. He gazed around the chamber. The valkyries, Kriar, and Baronians seemed relaxed, he felt no tension or particular alertness amongst any of them. Whatever he was feeling, none of them had sensed it.

The feeling grew stronger. He looked up into the shadows of the high ceiling. The broad skylight the Baronians broke when they forced entry had been repaired. There was no place to hide up there, no supports or even a ledge. There were chains that hung down to support the lighting sconces, but that would be a precarious position for any creature.

He started to discard that location as a possible source of his discomfort when he caught a glimpse of a flash of metal and one of the chains shifted. An icy hand of realization racked through him in a shot.

In a heartbeat, he sensed threads of magic and saw movement. Bannor threw back his chair, bounded to the top of the dining table and pushed off into the air lunging toward Daena with a hand outstretched to intercept the hurtling object.

He caught only a glimpse of the surprised faces of Daena and the others, eyes wide and mouths open as he flew forward. Pain shrieked through his hand and up his arm as something long and thin struck his palm, ripping flesh and shattering bone.

Even before he had time to hit the floor, a flood of agony made him scream. He slammed down on top of a table on the next tier, crushing through it to the hard stone underneath.

In the times since he had acquired the power of the Garmtur, he had felt many kinds of pain, this sensation dwarfed them all. It felt as if his flesh were being melted from his bones. He howled and writhed, his muscles riveted and unable to focus to remove the horrid thing that had hit him.

He heard screams and sensed activity, but the torture blotted out any ability to focus. His racing heart seemed to slow. He gasped for breath with lungs that wouldn’t take air.

Lost in the torrent of agony, another stronger sensation slammed into him. Behind his clenched eyes, the universe flickered green then turned crimson. Creation. The word hammered into him. His bones quaked. His already disintegrating body flopped. Perpetuity. He gurgled and coughed blood. Annihilation…

Return to Contents

Chapter Six

One word—ow! Three words—
oh frellin ow!!
—Bannor Nalthane Starfist,
Prince Conjugal of Malan

Bannor winced and moved his head. It felt heavy, like his skull was filled with sand and the gritty substance was sliding around. A pulsing went through his temple and he groaned. His body still hurt like every iota of his skin were burned. A pasty dry scum seemed to coat the inside of his mouth and he swallowed dry lumps of saliva that slid down his throat with a grating sensation. It took effort but he managed to crack his eyelids.

There were figures nearby but they were only colored smears in his vision.

“He’s moving,” a voice said nearby that was strangely distorted in his hearing.

“Oh lords, thank you!” another voice said.

“That was so close,” a third person said. “Little bastard. Damn Set for ever creating that vile stuff.”

The voices were slowly becoming clearer.

“Bannor? Can you hear me?”

He tried to speak but it came out in a croak. “I—uck.”

“Don’t try too hard, my One. You’re really hurt.” He felt a pressure on his chest. “The attack destroyed your ascendant body, and forced you back into your normal body.”

“Damn, he is messed up. How did it hit his host body too?”

“It must be a new strain of jikartandak. Something designed to attack a host through their avatar.”

“It did a pretty frellin’ good job thrashing that immort body too.”

“Damn, Sarai,” he heard Daena’s familiar echoing voice say. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

“What are you sorry for?” He heard a trace of irritation in her voice. “Because Bannor risked his life for you? You’re his sister—what do you expect?” He felt her hand pressing his chest. “Damn, damn,” he heard her sniff. Drops of moisture hit his arm and ran down. “Whoever ordered that attack is sooo going to pay.”

It took all his strength simply to move his arm, find her hand, and squeeze her fingers. He took an aching breath. “D-d-don’t—ca—cry.” He swallowed. It was so hard to breathe. “L-love y—you.”

“My One,” she murmured. Her voice went on, echoing in his mind. <You don’t have to talk. Remember, with the shaladen I can hear your thoughts.> He felt her straighten up and look away. “When can something be done for him? He’s hurting terribly.”

“He needs a bit longer to stabilize,” he heard Wysteri say. “This attack was extremely sophisticated. Even though his body was in stasis, this effect still managed to damage him. Had his body processes not been in near suspension he would have died in instants.”

“They must think Daena is tao inhabiting that body, or at least covering that possibility. That is some vicious stuff.”

“I confess I have never seen, nor is there any record that I can find, of anything able to strike quite like this. The poison destroyed the avatar, then followed the link back to the body, penetrated the dimensional shell of the ghost vault and disrupted his host’s microstructure.”

He blinked, trying to focus and failing. Was one of those figures green? “M-m-mother—i-i-is she here?”

A shape moved close and a soothing hand touched his face. Her touch dispelled some of the pain and he felt stronger. “I am here, my son.” She leaned closer and she pressed her lips to his forehead. The ache in his bones receded and it grew easier to breathe. “As Sarai said, save your strength, think it, I will hear.”

He closed his eyes and tried to focus his thoughts. <Mother, the genemar, it happened right as I was blocking the attack.>

“The genemar?” Gaea repeated.

“What’s he saying?” Wren asked. “That he had one of those attacks when he was hit?”

“Yes,” Gaea said with a grave tone.

“Did he have an attack or was he attacked by the genemar? Can it do something like that—attack through his psychic ties to his host body?”

“It can,” Gaea answered. “The link between a host and spirit or tao, what you call the silver-cord, is actually the same living essence that comprises my subspace body. Your tao is actually a self-contained part of my essence. That is what makes you truly my children and also a part of me.” She let out a breath. “So, in the same way it can destroy me, it can annihilate your tao as it nearly did with Bannor.”

“Spit,” Wren growled. “Now you tell us.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” he heard Ziedra murmur.

“What if he blocked two hits meant for Daena, the super jikartandak to kill the avatar body, and the genemar to destroy the tao and host body.”

“Whoa, you’re suggesting someone here has the genemar? Not only that, but has control of the thing? No way.”

“Daena isn’t an avatar though. Why both? Just killing the tao would be enough don’t you think?”

“I can answer that,” Gaea said. “A tao is fairly durable, and parts of it can exist in multiple places. When you astral travel, your whole tao does not leave your body, a monitor essence or core remains behind in the host. If the whole tao is not completely destroyed, it can regrow. However, it must have a host body to gestate in or it will expire. You must kill both in order to ensure death.”

“Wren is proof of that,” Bannor heard Radian say. “Her body was killed and Mom just bound her tao to another form.”

“Bannor survived because he was partially shielded by the barrier around the ghost vault. The stasis around his host body limited the damage to his core tao.”

The realization hit him—why he couldn’t see. The garmtur had been destroyed. His body was just a burned up husk kept alive by the tiny shred of his tao left behind when he astral traveled. Even if Wysteri somehow repaired his body, he was no longer a savant. The little bit of tao left in him was not strong enough to touch the threads of Eternity and thereby grow. It would be summers, if ever, before he could see again.

He was crippled in both body and spirit. A rush of sadness and embarrassment roared through him. He might as well be dead. At least he gave his life protecting someone else. The burning on his face grew worse and the blurs of the figures around him were blotted out. Streaks of heat rolled down the sides of his face and across his ears.

“Oh Bannor,” Sarai murmured.

“My brave son,” Gaea soothed, brushing his forehead with her fingers.

“This is bad. Nobody is safe. That stuff will kill anybody—all it takes is frelling scratch. Bannor got stabbed in the hand and was dead almost before anyone could get to him. I sure as frell hope the genemar attack was a coincidence or we are in serious doo-doo.”

Bannor heard sniffing. “I’m so sorry,” Daena sobbed. “Damn, after what I did, and he…”

“Shhh,” Janai hushed. “Come here.”

“Sarai, Janai, we need to make sure everyone knows. We have to assume the worst.”

“Right,” Sarai answered. “I’m telling Mother and all the Shael Dal now.”

“Gaea, please tell me if this thing hits you it won’t do to you what it did to Bannor.”

“Daughter, I wish I could reassure you. What hit Bannor was a necrotizing attack little different from the kill signal used to annihilate my entire subspace body.” She drew a breath. “By necessity, I still have a link, however tenuous, with my subspace form. The tao annihilation would follow that link as it did with Bannor back to my original host form. I cannot hide myself from such an attack.”

“Spit. Just frelling great. It won’t collapse your whole body at once will it?”

“No, the effect would begin at the core and spread outward. It would take longer than the kill signal, but the net result would be the same.”

“Lords,” Euriel murmured.

“Damn, this reeks,” Azir rumbled. “What the frell do we do? If they already have the gene thing up and working, even if we find them, we’ll get fried the moment we move in.”

“Mother, please tell me something good, like that genemar thing can’t be fired over and over in rapid succession.”

“It cannot,” Gaea confirmed. “In order to kill the tao, the antithesis must be calculated and projected. A tao, while it is comprised of the same substance as my essence, is by necessity more complex so that the entity’s intelligence and memories can be shadowed within it. That is why when you occupy a body other than your own you have your intellect and recollection. When the tao binds with the temporary host, those memories transpose non-destructively. That’s why you can double or even triple up in single body. The silver cord tying you back to your host is primarily to keep that body’s physical copy of those memories synchronized. It is a safeguard should the wandering tao become heavily damaged and lose the stores of memory.”

“How did his memory get updated while he was in stasis? He seems to remember what happened.”

“A tao has more than one safeguard. Not only do memories get streamed back through the silver cord to the host, but memories are shared with nearby taos. One of a tao’s functions is to replicate the patterns of other taos and the spirits of entities that have a close affiliation.”

“The spirit gathering,” Wren said. “Like what happened to Grahm and Jharon when they died near me.”

“Right. You have all felt that connectedness. That is your tao binding and sharing with others. This way if a body and its tao are both damaged and there are other tao forms nearby, those memories are preserved. Bannor is able to remember the time since becoming an ascendant because all of you were close to ‘remember’ for him.” Gaea rubbed his chest sending a sense of warmth and well being through him. “When his body was unsealed, his core tao restored the ‘unremembered’ aspects by drawing them from each of you.”

“All without us knowing?” Azir said.

“You probably felt a tingle when he was unsealed, or when you came near him.”

“That’s right, I did,” Wren confirmed.

“So did I,” Ziedra said. “Kind of a warm rush. I usually feel that when I meet a meet a new savant for the first time.”

“That recognition you feel on first meeting another savant is the share binding taking place. The Chyrith who designed tao forms understood their inherent weakness, and built in as many precautions as possible.”

“I am just glad whatever it was worked,” Sarai said. “Bannor is alive. He’s really unhappy.” She touched his cheek. “But he’s still with us.”

“While this is fascinating,” Idun said. “We digressed from the main tactical point. How long does this ‘antithesis’ thing for a single entity take?”

“Sixty beats,” Gaea answered. “Maybe double that.”

“I don’t think that’s right. How did Bannor get slammed then? Daena was the target.”

“I do not know,” Gaea acknowledged. “My understanding is that the device can only be used to attack a single entity at time, and that it can only remember one identity.”

“Maybe somebody upgraded the damn thing,” Azir growled. “Maybe they sat up there and recorded all of us.”

“That would mean they could blow the dren out of any of us on a moment’s notice,” Ziedra said.

“Damn it,” Wren said. “This must be a recent development. If the Baronians had this during the dread siege here they would have wiped out the defenders.”

“The moorgeer was probably employed by my uncle,” Janai said. “Their original target was Daena, though we still aren’t sure why. That first moorgeer certainly did not have the jikartandak.”

“If it was uncle Bertrand, there is some logic to the genemar hitting Bannor. He has no affection for Daena—she’s human too—and as far as he’s concerned—a much bigger threat. She’s Janai’s One. She is only a ward prodigal now. She could potentially become a princess conjugal and thereby be in line for the throne.”

“What?” Daena let out. “You’re kidding?”

“No, of course not, there have been a few occasions of noble women marrying each other.” Sarai sighed. “You two do everything but sleep together. To an outside observer, anyone who knows Janai a whit, knows that you becoming her conjugal is a real possibility.”

“It is not!” Daena stormed. “That’s not funny.”

“I’m not being funny. I’m just saying how it looks.”

“Still, how would he get the genemar?” Janai asked.

“He may not have it, but we know that the Daergons and Baronians will have been sniffing around the citadel looking for a weakness—a way in to get at us. It’s possible they may have been looking for a convenient ally to help them get in. He knows most of the secret accesses.”

“They wouldn’t put something as valuable as the genemar in the hands of assassin. How could it have been used?”

“The genemar attacks through the subpaths. It can operate at huge range,” Gaea told them. “They need only be able to see the target. That could be accomplished through a telepathic rapport with the assassin. All they really need is the pattern of the target person. If they have that, then they can be struck from virtually anywhere.”

“It is true that the shields have not been tuned to block out telepathic contact,” Radian said. “Physical access to the citadel is still possible as long as a person can overcome the wards.”

“We need to analyze that jikartandak and find out whether it was what caused Bannor’s tao to be shredded.” She drew a breath. “If it isn’t, we need to know if what hit him actually was the genemar. Gaea, do you have a way to ascertain if what was used on him was the genemar?”

“Under normal circumstances there would be some evidence in the microstructure of his body. However, this jikartandak has so corrupted his ascendant body that I don’t think it is possible.”

“We can get at him with a time scan,” Radian said. “We can get Megan or Adwena to give you access.”

“Mother, you didn’t sense anything when it actually happened?” Wren asked.

“Daughter, I must admit that right now my senses are rather limited. All of my adaptations were for seeing out of the subpaths. Being more aware here in the real world will take some time.”

“Bannor would have been the one to ‘see’ it and he was the one who got hit.”

“I’ve asked for assistance,” Sarai informed everyone. “Wysteri? Can you treat Bannor now?”

Another figure moved into his field of view and he felt a light touch on his arm. After a few instants she drew away. “Yes. I can repair his body.”

“Why are you saying it that way?”

“This tao, this special essence, is not something I can repair.”

“Don’t worry,” Gaea said. “I will deal with that part.”

“Since I have to regenerate his body anyway, should it be augmented to the way it was before? I can get the design from Octavia, or perhaps she can do it.”

Sarai put a hand on his shoulder. “Bannor?”

He started to talk and realized he couldn’t. <Won’t make any difference,> he focused the thought. <The garmtur is destroyed, I’m blind.>

“Blind?” Sarai repeated aloud.

“He’s so used to seeing through his nola, he probably doesn’t even realize he’s not using his eyes,” Wren remarked. “He’ll have to re-teach himself to see normally again. At least until his nola can be restored.”

“He should have the better body at least until the crisis is over,” Sarai said. “Not that it seemed to help in that situation.”

“If he had been in battle form, the jikartandak probably wouldn’t have affected him,” Daena offered. “We’re all going to need to be careful. We don’t know how much of that stuff there is, and how hard it is to come by.”

“If you wish, I can consult with Mercedes and Octavia concerning a possible inoculation,” Wysteri offered.

“Yes, please,” Sarai said.

“We better move fast,” Azir said. “Before someone else gets killed.”

Return to Contents

Chapter Seven

Bannor saved my life and nearly lost his
own. It made me feel so tiny and shallow. I
said I loved him. I railed at Sarai when she
told me I didn’t know what love was. How
could I love someone if I hadn’t even
figured out how to love myself? Then I
realized that Bannor did love
me, a brother’s protective love. I knew then
that he truly saw something in me worth
loving, and that my trying to force my idea
of love on him was probably the most
foolish thing I have ever done in my entire
existence.
—Kumiko Dinai “Daena” Sheento,
Ward Prodigal of Malan

Bannor blinked and felt a chill on his skin. His inability to see and near death had put him past the point of caring, so he hadn’t fought when Sarai requested Marna and Octavia reform his original body into that of an ascendant. He drew a breath, and felt a slight tingle. At least the hurting had stopped. The blurring of his vision was gone and he could see the room through the clear lid of the transformation chamber.

Until this very moment, he had not realized just how much the garmtur had affected his perceptions. All the colors seemed washed out. Objects did not stand out in sharp contrast like he remembered.

The chamber tilted up with a whining sound that made the cylinder vibrate around him. Trapped in a metal cage he now knew how Sarai had felt. Even though the transforming was already over, he still felt a sense of unease, of being enclosed in the Kriar’s alien artifices.

The chamber clunked to a stop and Octavia peered in, rainbow eyes glinting in the greenish light of the chamber. The red-haired mecha gave him a satisfied smile and unbolted the lid and swung it open. She reached out a long-nailed finger and touched his cheek, leaning from one side to the other. She nodded to him and stepped back.

Sarai stepped around the side of the cylinder and held out a hand to him. He gripped her wrist and let her help as he leaned forward and stepped onto the cool metal of Wysteri’s private treatment area. He stared down into her violet eyes, drinking in the always-beautiful details of her angular face. The mere thought of not being able to see her again had been like having his heart cut out.

His wife-to-be looped her arms around him and pulled tight. With a sigh he gathered her close.

“Words, my One,” she breathed. “I don’t need them anymore.” She snuggled her face into the curve of his neck. “I hated that you had somehow managed to bring chaos into our lives again. Then, because they needed you, they gave us the shaladens. Now, I can see. I always knew how you felt—sensed it. I’m in you now, and I never want to lose that feeling…”

He stroked her hair. Words. He had never been good with them, never needed them much until he met Sarai. Why speak a thing when it could be demonstrated and shown?

They broke apart after a few moments. The King and Queen were there along with Janai, Daena, and Ryelle. Green Gaea leaned in the doorway without her regular escorts.

Kalindinai came up and gave him a hug. “I am glad they pulled you through, Son-to-be.”

He nodded. He didn’t want to say that despite not being in pain, he felt terrible. He felt so empty and hollow. Like a candle guttering on the last dregs of its fuel. The ascendant body was physically strong, but without the garmtur, it felt sluggish and heavy. No doubt he could become accustomed to life as something more than a human, but less than a savant. He drew a breath. He had become spoiled. He should be glad simply to be intact.

Janai, Ryelle, each gave him a hug. Daena stayed back and watched from afar.

He looked at the young ascendant. “Daena, you don’t have to feel guilty.”

The girl pressed her lips to a line. Her glowing green eyes grew hooded and her gaze dropped. “Ever since we first met,” she said. “You’ve been protecting me. You never expected anything in return.”

“Daena, I seem to recall you bailing me out a couple times.”

“I did it for the wrong reasons,” she murmured, hands clenching and unclenching.

“Sister, it’s all in the past. Don’t give it another thought. Make it up to me by being a good friend from now on.” He held out his hand.

She stared at him. “How can you trust me after what I did?”

“Daena, people make mistakes, they deceive themselves as to the truth of a thing. I know. I do it to myself all the time.” He held out his other hand. “Come on. Let us truly put it behind us. Now is not the time to be self-conscious and afraid of one another.”

She raised her head, green eyes meeting his. “Really?”

“For certain really,” he said, making a coming gesture with his fingers.

Daena came a few steps forward. She glanced to Sarai. The princess stared at her with folded arms, expression neutral but not forbidding. Bannor knew there was less forgiveness there—but at least Sarai understood.

The auburn haired girl brushed her hair back and came forward. She reached out for his hand and glanced at Sarai again.

“Hug him,” Sarai growled. “He deserves that much for saving your life.”

The girl swallowed. She was afraid of Sarai—as well she should be. The princess had been well within her rights to take her head off.

Daena came and put her arms around him. “Thank you,” she murmured.

He gave her a squeeze and patted her back. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

Bannor separated from her and turned to King Jhaan. “Sorry to scare everyone.”

“Bannor, I think you and I are past recrimination for things you can’t control—” He glanced to Sarai. “Including my daughter.” His jaw worked side to side. He ran a hand through his pale hair in an uncharacteristic display of discomfort. “It is becoming more obvious however where blame must be placed.” He glanced to the Queen.

Kalindinai frowned and nodded.

Sarai pressed close to him, putting her head on his shoulder. “What will we do, Mother?”

“We?” Kalindinai said. “You will do nothing, I will handle my brother.”

Ryelle laced her fingers, knuckles turning white and brow furrowed with concern. “But Mother, what if he really has allied with these rogue Kriar and the Baronians?”

“Daughter,” Kalindinai said. “You do not know him. I do. If he is dealing with these creatures, it is because he believes them to be elves.”

“Matradomma, he might not be trying very hard to distinguish them. If he sent the morgeer with the jikartandak, that is not a weapon any elf would countenance.”

“No weapon an elf would countenance being used on another elf,” Kalindinai corrected. “Bannor, daughters, I will investigate this. It is my right. I will be about that task directly. I ask that you trust me.”

Bannor bowed.

Ryelle dipped her head. Janai frowned and after a moment lowered her head in acquiescence.

“Mother,” Sarai said in a growl. “He may be your brother, but he has been after my husband-to-be from the start. Now, Bannor was almost killed. I insist that I be allowed to participate.”

“Nonsense,” Kalindinai said with a scowl. “You’re pregnant. Request denied.”

“Mother, I am not so fragile now you can use that excuse,” Sarai growled. “I am as strong as you and a Shael Dal as well. You know I am a better fighter. If there is trouble, you will need me. You might know your brother, but he may not know what he is involved in.”

“Kal, she’s not being totally unreasonable,” the King tempered.

“Matradomma,” Daena said. “Please.”

Amber eyes hard, the Queen stared at everyone. She focused on Sarai’s violet eyes for the longest. “All right,” Kalindinai said. “But you will be silent. Say nothing.”

Sarai let out a breath and nodded. “Agreed.”

Kalindinai turned from them to Gaea who had watched in silence. “Has Koass confirmed the use of genemar?”

Gaea raised her chin. “He is continuing to scan for verification. From my initial inspection, it would appear that it was the genemar or something that closely approximates it.”

Bannor stiffened, feeling an icy chill.

The King’s eyes widened. “Approximates?”

“Yes.” Gaea’s green face turned grave. She brushed a strand of dark hair out of her eyes and swallowed. “That is why he is verifying. What hit Bannor, did not appear to be a true genemar. The energy was slightly different.”

“Oh, that’s not good,” Daena murmured.

“Daughter, that would be an understatement.”

“You’re saying the Daergons may have created their own?” Sarai asked in tight voice.

“It could mean a lot of things,” the green-mother told them. “It could mean in the intervening eons of time, the design of the genemar was changed. Equally likely, the Daergons have been tinkering with it. It would explain Bannor’s attacks—he was feeling the device being tested.”

“Great mother,” Kalindinai said. “If someone close to my brother possesses this device, will it be a danger to myself and Sarai since we are not savants?”

“It can destroy spirits as it does a tao. Among most of your people it is a forbidden magic—skharvarren.”

“The soul biter,” Kalindinai growled. “The magicks that can guard against that power are few.”

Gaea nodded.

“This just keeps getting better and better!” Daena let out, gripping her hair.

Sarai let go of Bannor’s arm. She jumped up between Gaea and her mother. “Wait, but there are magicks that can do it, right?”

Gaea nodded. “Yes.”

“What about the tao annihilator? Will the same guard magick protect a tao?”

The green mother’s brow furrowed. “It would provide minimal defense, but I see your point. It may be possible to devise an effective ward, as none currently exists that I am aware of.”

“That sounds like a job for Ziedra and one of the elder mages.”

“It should be possible since Koass is doing a detailed timescan of the attack. The magic can be sampled so it will be possible to analyze it and perhaps create a counterforce.”

“Perhaps?” Ryelle said.

“Not every magical problem has a solution,” Kalindinai said. “However, even a partial defense would be better than nothing.”

“Mother, I asked the Shael Dal whether any of them knew about skharvarren and possible defense against it. Aarlen answered that she knows that magic well.”

“She would,” Kalindinai frowned. “Damn, I hate delaying. If they have this genemar we would never get a chance to act. The shaladens will not protect us.”

Bannor frowned. “If I had my nola powers I could do it. In fact, I might be able to stop that tao thing. I wasn’t prepared for that attack when they hit me before.”

Sarai looked back to him. “Great mother, can you heal him?”

Gaea tilted her head. “Yes, I can.” She swayed forward. “My son, if you would allow my touch.”

He nodded.

“Kneel down for me.”

Brow furrowed, he kneeled at her feet.

She reached behind his head and pulled his face to her abdomen, forcing him to breathe the husky-sweet scent of her body. Energy raced through his body in a torrent that made him jerk and twitch. He understood now what had happened to Wren, and why Gaea had asked him to get on his knees. He felt inundated by the all-mother’s presence, a flood of warmth and caring that lent strength and inspired courage. Fingers of her power touched his mind and body, probing, studying.

Bannor felt her stroking his hair. He blinked, realizing that she had withdrawn her mind and that he’d lost some moments. She caressed his cheek, bent and kissed him on the forehead. “My son, what was done to you can definitely be healed.” She focused dark jewel-like eyes on him. “I am sorry, but I cannot heal it now. Your core essence needs more time to recover. If I replaced your template now, it would be like a house with a poor foundation—shaky and unstable.”

He swallowed and nodded. “I understand. How long?”

“That is difficult to say, not less than a scoreday or so.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. He pushed himself to his feet, wobbling for a second until Gaea steadied him. “I was dreading you might say summers…”

The goddess smiled up at him. “I have every confidence that you will heal quickly because you are needed.”

“At least there is some good news in all of this,” Sarai said, coming and putting an arm around his waist. She looked to her mother. “What do you want to do? Do you want to risk going after Uncle Bertrand without a defense?”

“We need to move quickly,” Kalindinai said. “The genemar was probably being held in reserve as a surprise tactic. Now that it has been revealed they will be maneuvering to act before we can formulate an effective strategy. I believe the attack on Daena was most likely a payoff, a gesture of good faith before some other plan was put in motion. When Bannor interfered, it must have been too great a temptation. Being able to see their armor, trace their warriors, and defeat the dreadnoughts, he was a serious obstacle to them. Given some of the accounts from Homeworld, I imagine Wren will be their next target.”

“They won’t be able to get the jikartandak near her,” Daena said. “She can keep her nola defenses up in her sleep now.”

“If they hit her with the genemar, it will disrupt her nola and they can kill her body.” Kalindinai turned to look around the room. “I’m beginning to wonder if this place wouldn’t be better for storing those bodies.” She glanced to the rainbow eyed mecha. “Octavia?”

The mecha pursed her lips. “The defenses are no more secure than the ghost vault. However, they can be put in transform chambers with image locks on them. It would reduce the amount of damage to the host should their avatar get hit with the genemar.”

“Octavia, I know I have no sway with you. Could you be persuaded to accomplish that?”

The mecha bowed. “We are all working for a common good. The Daergons mean to destroy the peace and safety that counsel Solaris provides for us. This is a small matter.”

“Thank you,” Kalindinai said with a nod. “I will request Wysteri assist you, she will get any additional assistance she needs from the subnet.” She turned to Janai. “Please open the vault for her.”

“Yes, Mother,” Janai said with a bow. She came and patted Bannor on the shoulder, then she and Daena accompanied Octavia out of the room.

“Ryelle,” Kalindinai said. “I want you to make sure Gaea has everything she needs to make an effective defense. That is your one and only task.”

The eldest princess bowed to Kalindinai. “Yes, Mother.”

Gaea raised an eyebrow. She bowed to Kalindinai. “I am honored that you entrust your daughter to me.”

“Your children have served and protected me on many occasions. It is only fitting I return the favor.”

The green mother held out a hand to Ryelle. “Come, you know your way about. I have a few things we need to do.”

Ryelle came over and kissed her father on the cheek and hugged her mother, she nodded to Bannor and Sarai, then exited with Gaea.

“What do we do now?” Sarai asked.

Kalindinai gritted her teeth. “We swallow our pride and ask Aarlen for help. With luck, the shaladens can be adapted to our need.”

Bannor stared at the Queen. “Matradomma, what do you want me to do?”

The Queen narrowed glowing amber eyes. “I have changed my mind, you will accompany us.”

“I will?”

“You will indeed. However, you will not go as yourself. If the Daergons are there and they see you, they may attempt to finish what they started. I need to think yet who it will be.”

“I will focus on buying us more time,” the King said. “Bertrand has raised a ruckus since his run-in with Ryelle. People are beginning to get suspicious. I will send out some agents to scout out any unusual activity both around the citadel and his estate.”

“All right,” Kalindinai said. “I guess we know what we’re doing. Bannor, you and Sarai be ready to leave in a quarter bell. I will go talk to—Aarlen.”

“Matradomma, may I make a suggestion?” Bannor said.

“What’s that?”

“Talk to Corim first. The fellow is a walking bookshelf. I don’t know how, but he knows most of what Aarlen knows. If he doesn’t, he can help you persuade her.”

“That boy? What kind of sway does he have over her?”

Bannor shrugged. “I don’t know the history of it, just what I saw with the garmtur. Also, I suspect that Senalloy and Luthice might also help you.”

The Queen nodded. “Good suggestions, I will act on them. I must be off. I will meet you in the council chambers at ten bells.” Sarai bowed and so did he. Kalindinai turned to her husband, walked over and kissed him with uncharacteristic passion. “I will be careful, you do the same. I will stay in contact.”

The Queen disappeared in a flash of blue light and a clap of air.

The King studied the spot where his wife had been, frowned and shook his head. “Sometimes she takes too much on herself.” He sighed. “You two better hurry, you don’t have much time.”

Sarai nodded and took his hand.

As they headed off, he could only wonder where this path would lead. Garmtur or not, he sensed a lot of conflict and pain in their immediate future…

Return to Contents

Chapter Eight

I love my brother, but somewhere along
the path he crossed the line from racial
pride to race hatred. To be honest, his
derisive bigotry toward anything not elven
was, to me, nothing more than an
eccentricity. Then I met the Kergatha family
and grew to like and respect Euriel and
Vanidaar. My brother’s dismissive attitude
irritated me. Then came Bannor. The classic
noble bumpkin, simple, ignorant, loyal and
trustworthy—totally devoted to my daughter
who loved him fiercely. He showed me so
much heart and passion, I simply had to
accept him. However, in my brother’s eyes,
his favorite niece suddenly became a
familial mistake—a perverted travesty that
should be rectified. It became a rift between
us that I feared would become
irreconcilable. I never imagined that fear
would be realized so powerfully…
—Kalindinai T’Evagduran,
Queen of Malan

For Bannor, there really wasn’t much to do except wait. Sarai dressed for an audience with her uncle, but they both knew it was a formality only—she wore the thin Kriar carapace molded to her body by Dulcere underneath her clothing. He felt her frustration, and saw it in the jerky motions of her hands as she tied and looped her hair in court fashion, then powdered her face. The grim expression she wore as she applied the makeup was one that suited going to a funeral. Sadly, in all likelihood, that’s how this visit would go.

Sarai closed her eyes and focused. The shaladen sword raised in her hand sparkled, shortened, and in a flare of light became a broad thick golden bracelet with a large crimson jewel. She clamped the item on her arm and let out a breath.

Since Bannor was to go disguised, but didn’t yet know what that disguise was, he had simply put on the battle armor he’d been wearing before the attack. It made him a bit woozy to think that his other body had died while wearing it. Then again, if he had blocked with the super-resilient armor instead of his naked hand, perhaps the result might have been different.

Sarai studied her face in the mirror for a moment before rising and turning to look up at him. No matter how angry she might be, this couldn’t be a comfortable situation. She had known her uncle for hundreds of summers. He didn’t know if there was love there, but there probably had at least been respect and regard. To have her mother and family betrayed like this would have to hurt. How could it not? If Sarai was feeling it, how must it be for Kalindinai? She had known her elder brother for more than two millennia.

They walked together to the council chamber. Kalindinai had not yet arrived. Millicent and Kylie were sitting at the conference table, discussing something as they entered. The two valkyries looked over at their entrance and waved to them.

“Good afternoon, Millicent, Kylie,” Bannor said, bowing to them.

Millicent pushed her large glasses up on her nose and peered up at him through the lenses. “You are looking rather well for a dead man.”

“I’ve felt worse, that’s true,” he said with nod. “I have to give credit to the amazing healers we’ve had of late.”

“Yez,” Kylie said in her thick accent. “Zey do miraculous work. I have felt it myself. How are you, Sarai? That must have scared you.”

Sarai sniffed and her jaw worked. “It did indeed. Now, I am just angry.”

“I am hearing a rumor that perhaps you know who sent the assassin?”

“Yes,” Sarai acknowledged. “But I am not at liberty to discuss their identity. When Mother gets here, we’re going to confront the person.”

“Only za three of you?” Kylie said. “Is zat wise?”

“No, but that’s the way Mother wants it. Fortunately, we have the shaladens now, so if we get in serious trouble we can summon more aid.”

“This is not related to the Baronians then?” Millicent asked.

“No, this is a more recent development. Someone who we think has decided to collude with them.”

Millicent nodded. “I know it’s not appropriate for us to appear to prosper on your family’s misfortunes but Kylie and I were just discussing how our sisters have enjoyed their duties here. They like the people, and your parents in particular. The change of scenery has been welcome as well.”

“I’m fairly certain that Mother and Father have conveyed this, but the Chosen rescued us. The defense would not have been possible without you and it will be difficult to repay your efforts on our behalf. I only wish that elven sentiments were not what they are to outsiders. I count both you and Kylie as friends, and I respect those that serve under you.”

Millicent nodded. “Worry not overmuch about repayment. Our free time is leisure bought with some challenging battle. There is little more we could ask. Even the food is good.”

“I’m glad the Chosen are not chafing at this,” Sarai said with a nod.

“Hardly,” Millicent answered with a grin. The click of hard boots in the corridor made her look over her shoulder. “It would appear your mother is here. I wish your battle well. If you have need of us, you have only to call.” She put a hand to her chest and bowed her head.

“My thanks, Millicent,” Sarai said. “Kylie.”

“Thank you both,” Bannor added.

Both valkyries nodded to him.

They turned and walked to greet Kalindinai. The Queen was dressed in black and red, and she carried the silver staff of state. Her angular face was set and the expression in her amber eyes flinty. Her dark hair was coifed tight to her head and fixed with gold pins bearing the griffon symbol of the T’Evagduran family. What must be her shaladen was clamped on her arm the way Sarai’s was.

Seeing her serious demeanor, Bannor bowed. “Matradomma.”

She nodded to him.

“Mother,” Sarai said in greeting.

“I have come from speaking with Aarlen,” she said in a dark tone. “She would not share with me the secret of warding against skharvarren but she did loan me a device.” She reached up and touched a thick silver necklace around her neck, the metal set with what looked like glowing sapphires. “Bannor, my thanks for your advice, approaching Corim first made this possible. If not for him, I fear I would not have been able to persuade this from her.”

“I was simply trying to be useful, Matradomma,” he answered.

“You were successful as usual,” she responded. She stared up at him. “As I said earlier, if you go as yourself, it will probably provoke an attack. I will disguise you as guard captain Eidon. As long as you stay physically in contact with myself or Sarai, no-one should be able to see through the deception.” She drew a breath. “Are you prepared?”

It wasn’t as if he had a choice. If he wanted to be around to protect Sarai and her Mother he had to go along with the plan. He nodded.

The elf queen touched the band on her arm, closed her eyes and tilted her head up for a moment. Sparks whirled around her body. She opened her amber eyes and a rainbow of light spun out of the shaladen and around him. He felt a strange tingle as magic flowed around and through him. His heart speeded and he was forced to catch his breath. He felt himself shrinking, his limbs growing lighter. His scalp itched and the Kriar armor shimmered and changed color.

In the length of a short breath the transformation was complete. He felt different—it was as if his whole body had slowed down. The room looked different. Objects had a different shine to them. A few long strands of translucent hair fell across his eyes. He reached up to move it away with a gloved hand. He was wearing the regalia of a guard-captain elite now.

“This feels strange,” he said, surprised to hear his voice sounding so high pitched.

“It is a good thing you learned to speak elven,” the Queen said. “However, the Dykreeni accent would give you away if you spoke at any length. So, if you must answer, keep it short.”

He nodded. He turned to Sarai and blinked at her. He frowned realizing he had to look up at her now.

“Just my luck, I get to be somebody short.”

“You’re not short—for an elf.” She smiled. “Not only are the T’Evagdurans a noble family, we’re a tall family too.” She looked down at his side. “Mother, what do we do about his axes? Nobody in the guard uses anything like them.”

“My brother wouldn’t know a knife from a polearm,” Kalindinai responded with a frown. “Just the same, shoulder sling the holders and pull the cloak over them. We’ll get you a standard issue sword for appearances.”

Bannor did as suggested, back slinging his axe cradles and tying them down. It would be cumbersome if he had to get them out quickly, but the illusion might be important.

They took their leave, checking in with the King, and Sarai’s sisters prior to leaving. He frowned. Even smallish Janai looked him in the eye. Daena towered over him like a scalebark tree. It was good thing he wouldn’t be like this long.

“You should make him stay this size,” Janai remarked to Sarai in passing. She touched the point of his ear which made him flinch. “He should get proper ears too. Human ears are boring.”

He rolled his eyes.

They left directly from the main audience chamber. Kalindinai touched the shaladen and chanted an incantation. As she spoke the words, green and blue motes of light began to dip and spin around them with greater and greater speed. Air whipped their hair and clothing and a deep humming vibrato rattled his bones. The Queen ended the spell with a sharp slash upward with her arm.

A cold hand seemed to clamp down on them and drag them into a star-speckled darkness. His guts twisted as they seemed to fall through a void, their bodies compressed down to a pinpoint. In a flash and a crack of air, a new landscape flared into view.

Night insects chirped and water gurgled inside a cordon of giant scalebark trees that formed the perimeter of the Valharesh estate outer compound. Triatus, the crimson moon burned high in the cloud-scudded ebony sky seeming to peer down at them like some gigantic demon’s eye. Pernithius, the harvest moon had just risen above the horizon, casting a pale glow on the undersides of the clouds and silhouetting the nearby hillsides.

Bannor rubbed his arms. It seemed unseasonably cold, and his breath made plumes in the night air. Though it was dark, he didn’t have any difficulty making out the details of the area. Platinum wind chimes hung from the many boughs, stirring listlessly in the calm. Water from a half dozen sources poured down rocky concourses and into three large ornate cisterns. Stone steps carved from a single massive boulder led up to the mansion proper.

The Valharesh estate blended with the trees as most elf dwellings did. The glossy wooden walls rose in sweeping curves, rays of flickering light shined into the night sky through round windows, across open terraces, and delicate balconies. The whole place gleamed with elf magic, as was fitting for a noble house of elves.

Kalindinai stared around, amber eyes narrow and brow furrowed. Her taut body echoed the tension evident in her expression. Letting out a breath she strode across the yard, and up the steps.

Keeping a hand on Sarai’s wrist, they both followed. Bannor glanced to Sarai who looked back at him. She was probably feeling the same strangeness. They were here to possibly indict an elf for treason. Kalindinai had brought a whole contingent of guards simply to question suspects. Now, they were almost certain of the culprit, and it was just the three of them. Granted, Sarai and Kalindinai had the shaladens now, but still they weren’t a police force.

The Queen rang the bell at the doorway. The elegantly crafted metal made an echoing ring that resonated throughout the courtyard. Kalindinai pulled the black rod from her belt and tapped it on her shoulder as they waited. It was perhaps thirty beats before the massive valve was unbolted and swung open by a tiny flaxen-haired elf maid dressed in a dark blue surcoat emblazoned with the five-talon Valharesh coat-of-arms.

The girl saw Kalindinai and her glowing rust-colored eyes went wide and she threw herself into a bow. “Matradomma! I-i-it’s late! W-w-we were not expecting—visitors.”

“We are aware of that Llajaerna,” the Queen said in a stern but level voice. She swung the black rod out and under the maid’s shoulder to make her straighten up. “We have urgent business with Our brother. Please take Us to him.”

Llajaerna stared at Kalindinai, her lower lip trembled. “N-n-now?”

The Queen didn’t answer she just glared at the girl, amber eyes narrowed. Had the young elf been made of wax, she would have melted down into a puddle.

“Y-y-yes, of course,” she stammered. “Please.” She pulled the door open for them, and gestured them in.

The mansion foyer resembled the circular entry area in Sarai’s quarters at Malbraion hall. He guessed it was something of a tradition, the sprays of flowers and artistic tributes to members of the family. In this case, busts of Kalindinai, and another female elf, and what must be Kalindinai’s mother and father. Did that mean Kalindinai had another sister they had not met? The sister’s tribute had a wreath of flowers around it, unlike the other three. Was she dead then? He really needed to study elven customs more carefully.

He looked around the sizeable area. Steps led down into a carved wood colonnade, atriums filled with blooming flowers were lit by the reddish glow of the moon. Water sculptures tinkled and glistened in the refracted lamp light.

They followed Llajaerna down the broad gallery deeper into the mansion. Bannor wished for his savant senses, because something felt strange and out of place, but he couldn’t find a source for the feeling.

He squeezed his Sarai’s arm. “Star, mindspeak me.”

She looked down at him with narrowed violet eyes. <My One?>

He focused his thoughts. <Do you feel anything strange?>

Her brow furrowed and she gripped the shaladen blade on her arm. After a moment, she reached out and gripped her mother’s shoulder to pull her to a stop.

Kalindinai frowned back at them.

<Mother, do you feel that?>

The Queen’s frown turned to one of puzzlement. <What is that—? Buzzing?>

Llajaerna stopped and looked back. She clasped her hands in front of herself and looked around as though nervous. “Matradomma?”

The Queen looked back to her.

Bannor glanced around. Windows looked into an inner courtyard some thirty paces across. Moonlight glinted off the surface of a reflection pond decorated with stylized bridges, waterleaf, swaybranch and colored reeds. Apparently, Lord Valharesh liked to keep nature right in the house with him. Glowbug lights provided dim illumination in the adjoining halls, giving glimpses of crystal work, elaborate tapestries, and murals. A faint spicy scent that was probably incense hung in the air mixed with a heavy musky odor. Weapon oil? Kalindinai had said the lord wouldn’t know two weapons apart. Perhaps his guards were cleaning their weapons. Did that mean he was expecting them? Of course, after the confrontation with Ryelle, it was a surprise to Bannor that he was still in the country, especially when he had a wife capable of teleporting.

Of course, where could he run? His sister was an archmage of incredible power. She would eventually track him down no matter what he did. If he knew that already powerful wilder had a shaladen, he’d probably soil himself.

Kalindinai gestured the maid ahead. The Queen dropped back, putting more space between her and the servant. His warning coupled with whatever she’d sensed, making her more cautious.

He could feel Sarai probing the surroundings. Now that both of them had the shaladens, their telepathic abilities gave them powerful senses, able to detect the thoughts of any unshielded minds nearby.

They turned a corner and passed a dining hall now only lit by the glowlights. The house seemed quiet even for this time. Where were all the servants? Even after midnight, on the few occasions that he’d meandered through the corridors of Malbraion hall, he’d seen maids and stewards tinkering about. It was only ten bells now, and he doubted the Lord was the type to be early to his bed.

As they moved along the sanded wood floors he began to realize part of what was making him feel strange.

The ears.

Kalindinai’s magic had actually transformed him into an elf. He was seeing and hearing with elven acuity. Even as a human he had fairly sharp senses. This body didn’t have hearing that much more sensitive, but he seemed to make out the higher pitched sounds more clearly.

They turned a corner and Bannor caught snatches of conversation conducted in hushed voices. There was something heavy in the air. Some wrongness he couldn’t put his finger on. After moons of wishing he’d never been born with the garmtur, he found himself longing for the security of it, the knowledge of what was going on around him. Sharp hearing, the ability to see in the dark and a sensitive nose—they were a jest compared to his thread sense. He sighed, wishing wouldn’t help him now. Despite Gaea’s assurances, the garmtur was an asset he might never possess again.

He worked his fingers in his glove, brushed aside the cloak and reached back to the handle of one of his axes.

The conversation grew clearer as they neared an open archway.

<Loosen up,> Sarai said in his mind. <This may help.> He felt her presence flood into him in a warm surge that made his body tingle. He drew a breath feeling his wife-to-be behind his eyes, in his flesh, alive and vibrant with Eternity’s power. The corridor, previously quiet was filled with murmuring. He knew instinctively it wasn’t sound, but various layers of thought. Some voices were far off, he heard Janai, Ryelle, King T’Evagduran, Megan the Shael Dal leader, even their new friend Corim. All of them were a collective of shared feelings, knowledge, and awareness.

He blinked. It was like the unity he felt with other savants only this was far more refined and complete. Their core thoughts weren’t revealed to this sharing, but there was a common pool, a place where they seemed to be keeping the whole group apprised of their activities.

He had no idea that Sarai had become a part of something like this. No wonder the family had grown so quiet in the last few days. They knew what each other were doing and could converse with them mentally at any instant. What did they need to talk for? King Jhaan was there with his wife in spirit, he heard their private whispers, a faint murmuring that pulsed nearby.

Much louder than the background thoughts, were the private musings of the maid worrying that she would be punished. Not far off were jumbled sources of images that must be dreams, and what must be other servants going about their duties.

Ahead in the room they were approaching were thought voices that crackled and distorted as though the ‘sound’ were being deliberately disguised. He felt Sarai focusing on that noise. In a flash, he felt her reach out to other minds and information traded in blur.

How long had she been doing this? He guessed he shouldn’t be surprised. She was a Shael Dal now, why not use all of her powers to their fullest?

<Mother, there’s a powerful telepath screening the area,> Sarai thought.

<I sense them,> Kalindinai answered.

Llajaerna stopped in the archway. She cleared her throat with an uncomfortable expression on her face. She looked into the room again and pulled at her blouse as if it had grown hot. She cleared her throat again and bounced on her toes, apparently trying to gain the attention of the people in the chamber and failing.

They stepped into the archway where golden light flowed into the hallway. The area beyond was a circular parlor, couches ringed a tall cylindrical hearth whose crystalline enclosure flowed up into the domed ceiling. The flickering light of the hearth fire illuminated tapestries of elven heraldry, statues, and paintings that covered the curved surface of the blood-wood paneled walls.

Bertrand sat at the left side of the circle, dressed in a dress blue surcoat, a platinum chalice in his hand. He sat next to a tall female elf dressed in skin-tight mirror-polished gold that reflected the light of the room. Her pale hair stirred in a non-existent breeze and faint music seemed to chime around her. The word perfection came to mind. Bannor had only seen pantheon lords with such a stunning aspect. The two were sitting a little too close for them to be just conversing, especially with Bertrand’s hand on her thigh. From the incredulous feelings of anger and dismay he felt from Sarai and the way she clamped down on his hand, he knew this was not Bertrand’s wife.

Black rod on her shoulder, Kalindinai stopped in the archway with deliberately loud clack of boots. Where Llajaerna’s mouse-like attempts to get her master’s attention had failed, that hard crack on the wooden floor was more effective.

Bertrand who had been completely engrossed with his guest, snapped around and focused on his sister with wide amber eyes. The chalice fell from his hand and hit the wooden floor with a clatter.

“Good evening, Brother,” Kalindinai said in a dark tone. She tilted her head and made an expressive sigh.

Bertrand’s mouth dropped open. “S-s-sister.”

Bannor kept his attention on Bertrand’s glowing guest. She brushed back her pale hair and frowned. Her brow furrowed and she narrowed sky-blue eyes.

Kalindinai tapped the rod on her shoulder and put a fist on her hip. “And where is Bekijha?” the Queen asked. “She is always so fussy about entertaining guests.”

The older brother got over his surprise. He would be a fool not to see this confrontation coming. The only variables would be when and where. He probably didn’t expect that the moorgeer would be traced back to him so quickly, or at all. Surely after the hints at lunch and Ryelle’s outburst he had to realize he was suspected of something.

The elf lord seemed lost though. He didn’t look like a simpleton. Did he think his tracks were that well covered? Perhaps he felt that his sister Kalindinai wouldn’t move until she had absolute proof.

<That barrier they have around their minds is pretty strong,> Sarai murmured.

<Hush,> Kalindinai thought back. <I’m focusing.>

Bertrand’s guest straightened in her seat and raised her chin. “Matradomma Kalindinai,” she said in a powerful voice that seemed to echo in the room. “Greetings. Your brother has told me a lot about you.”

Kalindinai raised an eyebrow. “Has he?” she responded in an arch tone. “He’s told me nothing about you, but I guess we both know why that is.”

The female elf frowned. “Kalindinai, I think you should go.” The word ‘go’ was a command, and even without his savant senses Bannor felt the compulsion behind it. That glow around the creature was more than just for show.

The elf queen flinched and flicked her hand as if swatting away an annoying insect. “I think you underestimate who you’re dealing with.”

The creature, Bannor doubted she was really an elf, sniffed and rose to her feet. Bertrand scrambled to stand as well. The maid who was squarely between them scurried out of the room, obviously knowing this was not a place to be.

“So I have,” the female said. Her eyes flashed.

To Bannor, it was like his head was in a metal barrel and somebody gave it a resounding kick. The ringing blast made him flinch and stagger a step.

<Don’t let go of my hand,> Sarai said, gripping his arm. <It’s a powerful mind probe.>

Kalindinai growled and gripped the band on her wrist. “You’re making me angry. This my kingdom. You threaten my family and my people at your peril. I will ask you once to let go of my arrogant, wrong-headed, foolish brother.”

Bertrand scowled. “Sister! How dare you…”

“Shut up, Traitor. To consort with this creature…to even think of using the black cauldron against my family. You are dead to me.”

The elf lord reeled back a step. “What? Those—humans—are not your family.”

“Brother, there are bonds that go deep as blood. If you had ever risked anything in your cautious, self-serving, miserable existence—you would know that. To hide behind what happened to Draline, to use it as justification, is the worst insult to her.” She gripped the band on her arm which glowed and with a rasp of magic flowed into the lines of a battlestaff. “She was my sister too, damn you. I am so sick of it. You actually believe your own lies now.” She pointed the staff at the glowing elf woman. “I have no patience. Release him. He is going to a dungeon, but he will do it with a clear mind and the ability to see his own foolishness.”

“Child you don’t—”

A flare of light lanced from Kalindinai’s staff, the bolt shrieked out toward the intruder, causing Bertrand to duck down. The blast of energy shattered a jeweled earring hanging from the elf lady’s left ear.

The female slapped a hand to the side of her head, eyes wide.

“Perhaps I have your attention now?” Kalindinai rasped. “As you see, your confidence in that shield is unwarranted.”

Bertrand looked back at the glowing creature whose jaw worked back and forth. He made a whimpering sound.

“Brother, have a spine,” Kalindinai snapped. “We haven’t started fighting—yet.” She sniffed. “Perhaps the time for disguises is done. You are no elf.”

The female let out a breath. “Very well.” She closed her eyes and her figure shimmered and melted. Sections of mirror polished golden cloth became gleaming gold skin, and a white sleeveless symbiote body stocking. The pupils in her sky-blue eyes vanished becoming only a radiant glow. Pale hair turned shining obsidian black. Pointed Elven ears became rounded. The female’s beauty was undiminished except for a jagged star-shaped scar around her left eye.

Bertrand’s eyes nearly bulged from their sockets.

“Well, I can’t say that comes as much of surprise,” Kalindinai said with a shake of her head. “So, Daergon, what do you want?”

Bertrand’s gaze whipped back and forth between them. “Kal, you know this creature?”

“By reputation,” Kalindinai answered, keeping her staff oriented on the Kriar woman. “Don’t interrupt. Again, what do you want?”

“Give me the Vatraena. That will suffice,” the female answered, hands on hips.

“And will that stop the attacks of the Baronians?”

“It would be a start.”

“I think you will need to be a bit more specific.”

“You must stop interfering in matters of Fabrista Homeworld. Stop sheltering her allies, and assisting her attempts to disassemble our plans.”

“You know, I might have been receptive to that if you hadn’t sent agents to kidnap us, and used that device to kill my son-in-law.”

The Kriar pressed her fingers together. “He tried to interfere. Like you are interfering. I grow weary of this. Comply or I will slay you.”

Kalindinai spun her staff and took a fighting stance. Sarai gripped the band on her arm and the item flared and became a sword. Bannor pulled out his axes.

“Try it you gold witch,” Kalindinai snarled.

Bertrand scrambled to get away from the Kriar woman but the gold-skinned female was on him in an eye-blink, a fist tangled in his hair, and a knee in his back. “I wonder,” the Kriar mused, as the elf lord struggled ineffectively to get away. “Whether this one retains any value to you? While your defenses are quite strong—” She raised her hand and blade of light crackled into being and she brought it close to his face as he flinched and wriggled. “His are not.”

“To die honorably is more than he deserves,” Kalindinai said in a dark tone. “Considering what he faces for betraying his people, you would be doing him a favor.”

“Sister!” Bertrand yelled.

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “Never call me that again.” She flipped her hand. “Kill him. Then I will deal with you, as you are apparently so weak as to need a captive to hide behind.”

The Kriar’s chin came up. “You’re bluffing.” She brought the weapon against Bertrand’s cheek.

The elf lord howled in pain, kicking and thrashing as the flesh of his face smoked and sizzled.

Kalindinai held position like a stone. She gripped the staff in both hands. “As soon as he’s dead. You will join him.”

Bannor gritted his teeth at the popping crackling sound of cooking flesh. His heart beat fast, and his stomach knotted as he caught whiffs of burning meat. Bertrand writhed, screams growing hoarse as his skin and hair caught fire and boiled away from the immense heat of the weapon. His shaking hands gripped and pushed at the Kriar warrior’s arm without effect.

Hands white-knuckled on the shaladen, the Queen stared at the Kriar with hard eyes, not moving—not even twitching. Beside her, Sarai swallowed. As hard as the third princess was, Bannor didn’t think she would have had Kalindinai’s resolve. To watch a loved one, no matter how despicable, suffer in such agony.

Boiling droplets of blood struck the Kriar woman’s face and splattered on her on her arm and clothing. Bertrand went limp in her grip.

With a snort, the intruder tossed the elf lord aside. “Bah.” She turned glowing sky-blue eyes on Kalindinai. In a flash, she flickered forward, her body moving in a hissing blur.

Bannor didn’t see what Kalindinai did, it all happened too quickly. He only knew she had avoided instantaneous death, the attack meant to slay her struck the staff instead of her face. The power of the blow still blasted her backward.

He leaped into the path of her flight. He gasped as she slammed into his midriff. Bannor hugged her tight, curling into a ball to shield them as they slammed into the hard wood wall.

Stars exploded in his vision as he hammered into the brick-hard surface which crunched under the force of their impact.

Behind them, he heard Sarai let out ringing battle cry and he felt the house shake as a powerful impact rattled the air.

He shook his head and blinked. It was a good thing he had let them alter his body, he would have been pulped by the impact otherwise. Kalindinai coughed and growled. She rolled to her feet, she gripped his arm for an instant, and he felt a tingle go through him and he felt her thanks flicker through his mind and she pushed off toward their opponent. He snatched his axes off the floor and drove forward in her wake.

Powered by the shaladen and the marvelous form designed for her by Mercedes, Sarai was doing more than holding her own against the powerful Kriar. The hurricane speed that had so easily toppled Kalindinai was barely quick enough to keep with her as they demolished the room.

The Kriar’s blade gouged out hunks of wall, sections of floor and ceiling as his silvery-haired mate literally bounced off the barriers and obstacles in the chamber in a blur, her shaladen crashing against the Daergon’s defenses.

One thing was abundantly clear, while she had greater speed than her opponent, Sarai simply didn’t have sufficient skill to do anything more than occupy the intruder. The ancient Kriar was too experienced and too well armed to overcome even if Sarai were twice as fast.

<Bannor, get my brother out of there,> Kalindinai ordered.

He didn’t question, but leaped for Bertrand’s unconscious form.

The nameless Daergon must have seen him from the corner of her eye because she drove Sarai back with a thrust of her weapon and was in front of the elf’s body swinging her weapon before he even finished his jump. How could something move so fast?

A brilliant flash of light illuminated the room even as he brought his axes down to guard. A roar of thunder rocked the chamber as multiple bolts of lightning jagged underneath him from Kalindinai’s staff.

A reddish bubble around the Daergon flared red and went black as the powerful blast picked her up and flung her across the room. The power mauled the Kriar as it smashed her backward through the hearth, punched through the side of the building, and hit the reflection pond outside in a detonation of vaporized water.

Bannor shook his head to clear the ringing from his ears. He looked down at his boots which were smoking. Kalindinai had almost caught him in that blast! Small fires still flickered in a blackened crease that streaked across the wooden floor, through the exploded hearth, through a split and smoldering divan and out through a hole torn in the mansion’s thick stone and wood wall. Ash and debris continued to plunk down from the ceiling, and splintered spars of wood still on fire swung back and forth.

Whoa.

Sarai rolled to her feet, and leaned on her knees breathing hard. Her garments were burned and shredded from close misses of the Kriar’s weapon. She held up a fist to indicate she was okay.

He slid one of his axes through his belt and scooped up Bertrand’s limp form, wincing at the sight of his melted and blackened face. The elf quivered, limbs twitching; alive—at least for the moment. Bannor draped him over his shoulder, and headed back toward Kalindinai. “Let’s—”

Bannor was interrupted by a yell as the Kriar woman launched from the pond in an eruption of water. She thudded to the ground. Eyes glowing like embers, she flicked the wet hair out of her face with a toss of her head. She made a growling sound, clenched her fist and a blade of light rasped into being. The woman’s white clothing was tattered and burned, her gold skin a dark orange color where the tendrils of magical force had clamped down.

Uh oh. He felt a fist knot in his stomach. Now was a really bad time not to have his nola. This creature was going to get serious and start using all of her powers.

She started forward. Kalindinai didn’t wait to find out what the Daergon could do, she spun her staff and launched another devastating barrage of magic. Bolts of light, blasts of fire, and shrieks of lightning seared out from her staff in rapid succession.

A scowl on her face, the gold woman batted aside a few of the blasts and simply seemed to sway through the hail of energy with that incredible speed. Nothing hit her.

Bannor reached down into himself where he normally found the garmtur. The symbol of his self was a shredded and mangled parody of its former shape, a wounded butterfly that was doing well simply to be alive. His nola power would not be rescuing them this time.

Sarai leaped into her path, sword at the ready.

The Daergon woman stopped. “Get out of my way, Child, I am tired of playing with you.”

The third princess of Malan called upon the power of the shaladen, the weapon crackled and her limbs glowed and thickened. She surged forward, the shaladen weapon creating a hurricane of fire as whipped it into the alien fighter.

The gold woman turned inside the path of the sword. She slammed Sarai’s wrist to stop, and in the same motion, spun and swept her feet out from under her.

His wife-to-be landed with a crash that made him cry out. Damn, and he was stuck with this useless elf lord on his shoulder when Sarai needed him.

The Daergon kept her glowing blade trained on Sarai. She shook her head and raised her weapon.

“NO!” Bannor screamed.

Kalindinai thrust her staff forward and another shaft of lightning roared out.

The Kriar aborted her killing stroke, using her weapon to deflect Kalindinai’s attack. The blast shattered another wall, causing servants who were apparently cowering in the nearby room to shriek in terror as the magic blasted through.

Sarai used the reprieve to scramble back on heels and hands.

The Daergon lunged forward, yanking a battle knife from her boot and plunging it through Sarai’s calf into the floor. The agonized scream Sarai let out made his whole body shake. His wife-to-be groaned and clutched her leg, tears streaming down her face.

“You witch!” he yelled.

He let Bertrand’s body slide to the floor, and pulled out his other axe, and moved toward her.

“Now now,” the Daergon chided. Her burning blade pointed at Sarai’s chest she stepped on the knife embedded in her leg.

Sarai’s head tilted back and she bit down on a scream.

“Sarai!” Kalindinai growled.

“Obviously, you care more about this one, than that sack of tubers over there,” she nodded to Bertrand. “That’s fine, as long as we have our priorities straight.” She leaned forward, putting her weight on the knife hilt.

Sarai let out a yelp, clutching her leg, tears streaming down her face.

Bannor’s heart was pounding in his ears. The muscles in his arms throbbed, and the wrapped leather on the hafts of his axes squeaked under the pressure of his grip.

“Your friends in the Shael Dal can stop trying to summon her, I have her etherlocked.” She reached to the sidearm in its holster on her side, cranked it to full, pulled it out and leveled it at Sarai’s chest. “If I feel even one iota of ether disturbed from mattershift, I will splash her all over this room.” She sniffed. “Now, about some cooperation or shall I start trimming off flesh?” She lowered the lightblade to Sarai’s foot.

“No,” Kalindinai growled. She transformed her staff back to an armband and placed it on her arm. “All right, you want me to give you Marna. Supposing I want to—how do I do that? This is my kingdom but I don’t tell her what to do.”

“Tell her she comes here, or I start filleting your daughter. I know her signature, and if she brings anyone else with her, this child goes and you’re next.”

“Mother,” Sarai groaned. “I—”

“Mimi, just hold on,” Kalindinai said. She raised her chin. “Marna acknowledges. She will come to our location in one hundred beats.”

The Kriar frowned. “Tell her to make it half that.” She leaned on the knife again making Sarai cry out.

“Damn you! Stop hurting her!” Bannor went to his knees in the floor. He wanted to go to her. To get that evil witch off his wife-to-be. His powers were gone. He had nothing. He was an ordinary man in a durable body. He reached down into his savant senses and found nothing. All this time of wishing he’d never been born a savant, and now it was his most fervent wish. He would take that Daergon’s threads and pull them so tight her eyes would bulge from their sockets.

The Daergon sneered at him.

“Ten beats gone,” the Daergon said. “I will take a piece out of this girl for every beat over fifty I have to wait.” She paused. “Twenty beats.”

Bannor felt a tingling as if something had brushed against him. He forced himself to keep his eyes focused on the Daergon. “If you hurt her anymore, I swear…”

The blue-eyed Kriar snorted and raised an eyebrow. “Thirty.” She brought the blade of her weapon down toward Sarai’s side, making her moan and writhe.

The Daergon female lurched as if sensing something but she moved too late as a light weapon appeared, slicing her sidearm in half and coming up under the sword she had poised on Sarai. Forced up and back, her own light blade came hissing at her head. She twisted away, her weapon winking out so that she didn’t lop her own skull in half.

Bannor saw her hair yanked back and saw dust on the floor flurry as she was hurled out through the hole in the wall and into the pond with a splash.

Eclipse shimmered into view. The big Kriar laced his fingers and crackled his knuckles, moving his head from side to side.

The Kriar woman was already launching back at him, her blade rasping and crackling as it cut a flaming path through the air.

The male didn’t use his light weapon, he merely patterned with his hands, leaned between her cuts, grabbed her wrist and sent a round kick whistling into her midriff with a sound like snapping wood.

The Daergon gasped, her eyes nearly bulging from her skull as she folded around the powerful strike. Gripping her middle, she dropped to her knees keeping her weapon trained on Eclipse. Eyes blazing, she snarled at him.

The Kriar varkath cross-stepped around her, fists turned out, face set and glowing blue eyes narrowed.

Bannor scrambled forward to Sarai’s side. “Hold on, let me get this thing out.”

Sarai closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. Bannor gripped the handle and yanked the weapon free in one swift pull. Sarai groaned and writhed as blood spurted from her injured leg. Bannor whipped the cloak off his shoulders, tore off a section and bound her leg.

Eclipse glanced over toward them. He looked back to the Daergon and sniffed.

This gesture seemed to enrage the female, she charged, plunging the weapon at his heart.

Eclipse stepped in, pivoting so the blade kissed his armored chest. He grabbed her wrist and double struck, hammer-fisting her arm with a crack and smashing his armored elbow against her cheek.

The female tumbled backward, body quivering in the dirt yard.

The warrior rubbed the crescent tattoo on his cheek and sighed.

The Daergon rolled back to her feet favoring her broken arm, pasty white blood dribbled from her split cheek and lip. She spat the fluid out of her mouth and glared at him, body heaving as she took heavy gasps of air.

He tilted his head, still not having said a word aloud.

A pained grimace on her face, Sarai stared at the Kriar warrior, no doubt amazed at how easily he dealt with the monster that moments ago had handled them as though they were children.

Bannor helped her up, taking the weight so she wouldn’t further injure her damaged leg. He pulled her back toward Kalindinai who met them half way and put her shoulder under Sarai.

He released his wife-to-be and went to Bertrand and checked him. Still alive. It was really more than he deserved.

He picked the elf man up and slung him over his shoulder.

“Let’s go,” Bannor said.

“If you leave, I swear I will kill every living thing in this building,” the Daergon female growled.

Eclipse narrowed his eyes. “Vratague, you disappoint me. Those without honor, receive no mercy.” The burning red lance of his light-blade appeared in his hand.

“Hah, you won’t—uck!”

Even as she spoke he drove the blade through her left shoulder in a rasp of movement and a blur of speed. She let out a scream clutching the scorched and cooked hole in her body.

“Vratague, you must have me confused with someone else,” Eclipse said. He sighed and shook his head. “Do not mistake my merciful past for a lack of resolve. For the sake of the Vatraena and the Kriar people, I can poke holes in you all night. Is that how it will be? I would much rather you told me where your allies are, and where the Jyril device you acquired is being kept.”

Greenish tears rolled down her marred face. “Dark take you.” She pushed to her feet, and stood on wavering legs. “The Daergons are the only true patriots—you would have us be bleating simps, kowtowing to lesser races. Treating them as equals. Fah!” She spit in the dirt again.

Eclipse let out a breath, seeming drained. “This lesser race erased the ruination of the Kriar by the Jyril. A curse fetched on us by your wrong headed thinking. You are not patriots—you are seditious fools who are doomed to make the same mistakes over and over again. You ally with the very creatures that destroyed the Karanganoi. Are you insane? You take their weapon and try to use it. They will turn on you and us, the instant they can wrest control from you.”

Vratague grimaced and scrubbed at her face. She staggered a step. With what looked like a struggle she made her light weapon appear in rasp. Its white light reflected on her gold skin. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“Desperate? What is so desperate? Homeworld is seeing the first prosperity it has had for eons!”

“It is not prosperity—” Vratague coughed and groaned. “It is decadence—it is complacence. As a warrior, you of all people should know that.” The female warrior stared at him. “Why do you help her? You were cast off like the others.”

“I was not cast off—I walked away. It was not Marna who drove me out, but the mewing empty-headed followers of Daergon Surr. They represented nothing but selfish arrogance and raw greed. I joined the legion to protect our way of life—the way set down by the first star-reach. I will not serve honorless thugs. If by some far stretch, your miscreant uprising succeeds, I will be there to make war until each one of you is eating the dirt you deserve.”

“Varkath, you live in a dream. You support an idealist who coddles and beds the lessers. She is a perversion—a travesty—she must be—” She wavered, apparently drawing on some inner resolve. “Annihilated!” Screaming, the wounded warrior leaped at him.

Eclipse seemed taken aback for only a heartbeat, he fended aside her weapon and plunged his blade through her chest. The Kriar female shrieked as a pace long shaft of burning light erupted from her back in a gout of pasty white blood.

Vratague’s body twitched and quivered as Eclipse extinguished his weapon and caught her quivering form. Lying her on the ground, he pulled something from his belt and clipped it around her neck. He then shackled her wrists and ankles. He picked her up and slung her over his shoulder.

Eclipse turned to them. “We should go. Her peers may gain enough courage to confront us.”

“What do you want her for? Isn’t she dead?” Kalindinai asked.

“It was a heart stroke, but Kriar have two hearts,” he said. “She merely succumbed to her injuries. If I leave her behind, they’ll just heal her and use her against us again.”

The Queen nodded. “Thank you, Eclipse.”

The Kriar bowed his head to her. “Please, gather close.”

Bannor stepped up, and almost before he’d finished taking the step the six of them were surrounded in darkness. His heart didn’t get a chance to take a beat before they were standing again in the council chambers at Kul’Amaron, the light of Eclipse’s transport ability fading from around them.

Bannor laid the shuddering form of Bertrand down on the floor, and glanced to the bleeding mess of Vratague slung over Eclipse’s shoulder. If they were all as determined as she was, how would they ever defeat them?

He swallowed. He had been all but useless and Sarai nearly died because of it. Gaea said it might be scoredays before she could help him. What was he going to do? This was only going to get worse, and matters weren’t going to wait for him to be healed.

“Bannor,” Kalindinai gripped his shoulder. The Queen focused amber eyes on him. “I’m glad you were there.” She gestured and he felt a twisting as magic swirled and hummed inside him. It felt as if he grew, his limbs getting heavier and thicker until he was looking down at Kalindinai again. “My thanks for your protection.”

Bannor knelt down and took her hand. He looked up at Sarai who was leaning against her mother perched on one leg like a swamp bird. “My thanks for letting me love your daughter.”

The Queen smiled and put a hand on his head. “Bannor, my son-to-be, thank you for making my commitment so easy…”

Return to Contents

Chapter Nine

Learning our limits is sometimes a hard
lesson to swallow. To gain so much power,
then be handled like neophyte—that stings
no matter how mature your perspective is.
In retrospect, I suppose it was good to
experience such a sound defeat and live
through it. It is a strong reminder of the
folly of false confidence…
—Sarai T’Evagduran,
3rd Princess of Malan

Heart thumping, Bannor winced as Sarai hit the padded floor with a thud, flipped, and stumbled and thudded into the wall cushions inverted. She slid down and landed in a sprawl. The elf princess righted herself with a snarl, yanking the leather dueling jerkin straight, and brushing at a few stray strands of silvery-blonde hair. Chest heaving, she glared at Senalloy across the chamber floor.

Dressed in the loose-fitting charcoal-colored uniform of the Malanian Nightslash Elite, silver-haired Senalloy stood in the middle of the dueling floor with one hand behind her back. It was in situations like this that Senalloy’s power was truly evident. Sarai was using every bit of her strength and speed. On the other hand, Senalloy seemed to exert little effort. Using only one hand for defense, the tall woman avoided or warded off every one of the princess’ attacks.

The ancient hexagonally shaped training area was one Bannor had not seen until a few days ago, but they had been here in this ornate iron-wood chamber every day since coming back from the encounter with Vratague. Wysteri healed Sarai’s leg, but nothing could salve her wounded pride; not him, not her parents nor her sisters.

Like everything the elves did, this place exuded the artistry and animus of the ancient elf warlords, the carved rafters, campaign standards, and coats of arms all arranged to remind those that fought here of the warrior heritage of the elves.

Violet eyes flashing, hands clenching and unclenching, there could be no doubt that Sarai was a warrior, with a steely warrior’s determination. That or a tree-stump’s stubbornness, Bannor couldn’t decide which.

Next to him, dressed in a blue body stocking, auburn hair tied back, Daena pressed a hand to her chest as if she herself had been struck. “Ow, that hurt over here.”

Bannor turned to Janai. The second princess was dressed in black jodhpurs, and a sleeveless black jerkin emblazoned with the T’Evagduran griffin crest. The older sister still had her teeth gritted like the crash hurt her as well.

“Can’t you make her stop?” he asked. “It’s starting to scare me.”

“You jest,” the second princess said with a shake of her head. “Sen won’t hurt her, you know that. Sarai is just determined.”

“Determined? That’s not the word I would use,” burly Corim said sitting on a bench with folded arms. Dressed in a simple brown togs and no shirt, the man’s chiseled physique showed how seriously he took conditioning and practice.

“I thought I was stubborn,” Wren murmured, brushing at her shining blonde hair. Gleaming in all her ascendant majesty, she reclined next to Corim and a new friend she had brought with her. A tenday ago, Wren would have looked tiny compared to Corim, but now she barely had to look up to meet his eyes. As Damay said, there was nothing subtle about the bodies of the ascendants. She was powerful and looked it, filling out the white fighting togs with an impressive shape that would make any male goggle.

Her friend was a tiny woman that Bannor had not seen around until today. Wren had introduced her as Vera, a name as unassuming as the rest of her. She had short satiny-black hair that she wore braided and pinned in place, her olive skin and slightly upturned dark eyes gave her the look of someone from the eastern kingdoms. She wore dark ash-colored robes with the loose sleeves and pants strapped down at the wrists and ankles.

“Stubborn, yes,” Bannor rumbled. “Why can’t she see it’s not possible? Those Kriar are ancients, and Sen is a great elder. You can’t beat that kind of experience with a just a little edge.”

Janai shrugged. “She got this thing stuck in her head that the shaladen will make up the difference. Sure, it’s powerful but…” She sighed and shook her head. “It’s her body. Guess it’s a good thing we got a good physician on staff now.”

Senalloy glanced toward Janai. The woman looked toward Sarai and shook her head. Her eyes were the same color as Sarai’s but lacked the glow. Bannor had always found the tall woman attractive for many reasons.

The Baronian focused back on the first princess and sighed. “Using the shaladen to boost your speed even more is making it worse. It puts holes in your defense I could ride a horse through. That’s not the answer.”

“Damn it, but it’s all I have!” Sarai growled, stomping her foot. The impact made the room shake.

Wren rose from the bench and stepped onto the mat with her arms behind her back. “Can I offer a bit of constructive criticism, Sarai?” she asked in a mild tone.

Sarai frowned at her. “What?”

“As we’re seeing,” Wren said in a patient tone. “Speed benefits the defender, not the attacker. After watching you get beat up these last couple days I brought along my friend Vera. I think her advice might help.”

The princess put hands on hips. “No offense, but who is she?”

Wren smiled. “She cooks for the Felspars.”

“You jest,” Sarai said with bemused expression. “The cook?”

“Don’t take my word for it, spar with her.”

Sarai’s brow furrowed. She glanced to Senalloy.

The Baronian shrugged again. She glanced to Vera for a moment, then back to Sarai. “My sister told me about Vera. Take her serious.”

“All right, what can it hurt?” Rolling her shoulders and unkinking her neck she stepped up until she was close enough to touch Senalloy. She frowned up at the big woman and gave her flat stomach a slap. “Don’t think I’m done with you, damn it. I’ll get a piece of you if it kills me.”

The Baronian lady put her hands on Sarai’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “I’m here for you. Just remember, things come in time. I didn’t get this good overnight.”

“I don’t expect to be as good as you. I just expect to be better than a sparring dummy that’s all!”

Nodding, Senalloy rubbed Sarai’s shoulder and stepped back.

Wren gestured to Vera who rose and walked over to join her. Even compared to Sarai, she looked small. The dark-haired girl looked up at Wren, and spoke in a quiet, mousy voice. “What Wren-friend want me do?”

“Just combat train—no hard hits—she’s pregnant.”

Vera nodded.

“No hard hits?” Sarai snorted. “You jest. With her pockets full of rocks, I bet she doesn’t weight five stone.”

Vera walked out onto the middle of the mat and bowed to Sarai.

Looking somewhat unsure Sarai bowed back.

Wren swayed out to stand between them. “Sarai, you know me. I would never waste your time.”

Sarai sobered, and looked down at Vera. “Apologies. That was rude.”

Meek-seeming Vera merely blinked at Sarai. She had a stoic aura to her that said she was no ordinary girl.

“Ready,” Wren said, putting a hand between them.

Sarai stepped back and took a stance, bouncing on her toes.

Vera stepped away, bowed and put both hands behind her back.

Bannor frowned. Uh oh.

Daena put a hand on his shoulder. “Is that little snip of a girl kidding? No hands?”

He swallowed.

Wren slashed down with her arm. “Begin.”

Sarai didn’t bother to worry about taking it easy, she launched forward with that incredible speed that made her almost a blur. She swung, kicked, and swung again in a flurry of motion that happened in an eye blink. Big Senalloy would have been forced to block. Tiny Vera, however, was no-where to be touched. She bent backward under the punch, pivoted around the kick, and bounced in a rearward arch that made her shoulders hit the mat. At the same instant, she kicked out with both feet.

Bannor’s heart beat fast, and his stomach lurched. He knew it was going to hurt even before the impact. The strike hit Sarai’s shoulders with a thud, instantly halting her momentum and knocking her onto her back with a slam that made everyone in the room cringe.

Using her head and a sway of her body, Vera flipped back to her feet.

She never moved her hands.

Janai grabbed the top of her head. “Carellion!”

Bannor hugged himself. Ouch. That must have smarted. “Star,” he called. “Are you okay?”

On the bench, Corim straightened up. “Interesting—grand master level G’Yakki techniques.”

Sarai picked herself up and shook her head. She rubbed her shoulders. She frowned at Bannor. It was a good thing Wysteri made that body tough. He remembered a time when bird-like Sarai would have stayed down after a hit like that.

Sarai didn’t try anymore charges with the curious little woman. She struck with more precision, trying not to overextend herself.

Vera swayed like a snake between Sarai’s attacks, bouncing up and blocking kicks and punches alike with her knees and the bottoms of her feet. It was phenomenal. Watching the two whirl around each other, Sarai showed significantly more speed. Buoyed by the shaladen, her strength was enormous. Neither advantage helped. Vera’s flexibility and the poise with which she defended made the fight look staged. She whirled around Sarai, constantly forcing her to turn, making her struggle simply to keep oriented as she whipped side-to-side and around. Bannor couldn’t call it anything less than a dance. Vera’s every dodge and counter were executed with a jewel-cutter’s precision, not even the tiniest bit of wasted energy or motion.

After several long breaths of futile attacks, Sarai stepped back panting. She bent and put hands on knees. “Whoa, ok-k-kay,” she gasped out. She rubbed her face where one of Vera’s kicks had grazed her cheek. It was obvious the little woman had made little effort to attack. As incredible as that demonstration had been, her strikes had been only to keep Sarai honest and inflicted with such control they hadn’t even left a bruise. “Wren, I s-s-see what you mean. Ow.” She bowed to Vera.

Vera returned the gesture of respect. “Arminwen is very strong—very quick. Lady Sen say rightly, more speed not help.”

“I don’t get it. If I hit faster, don’t you two have less time to react?”

Vera searched the ceiling rocked her head side to side. “Swing fast, turn fast, counter fast… not affect much. Biggest time is not attack itself, but making direction. If Vera see—then react, then speed be advantage. Vera know before you move, so—” She shrugged. “No help. Vera show you something better than go fast.” She turned to Wren. “Tumok. Ich can tala.”

Wren bowed and came forward. She took a stance with her fists up and ready.

Vera stepped in front of Wren and held up her palm like a target. “Wejha!” Vera ordered.

Wren lunged forward sending her hand streaking forward like a spear, feet stomping down and body poised. The whole room trembled with the power of it as the tips of Wren’s fingers brushed Vera’s hand, making her flesh ripple and her uniform flutter. Bannor felt his heart skip a beat. Daena and Janai jerked.

Vera looked to Sarai. She put both hands on either side of Wren’s arrow straight hand. “Cut like knife,” she said. Holding Wren’s hand she pushed, then pulled, demonstrating that Wren wasn’t going anywhere, especially in that low crouch. “No able to deflect.” She let go and put her thumb on the tip of Wren’s longest finger. “Energy here.” She held her palm a short distance in front of Wren’s hand. “Impact here.” She gestured to Sarai. “Come.”

Sarai stepped close. Vera took Sarai’s hand and held it up in front of Wren’s outstretched attack, then turned to Wren. “Tumok. Diece can tala.”

Wren stepped back into a ready stance.

“Jujah!” Vera yelled.

The blond ascendant lunged forward in a punch and stomp that stopped well short of Sarai’s hand but shook the room again. The elf lady’s arm was knocked back like she’d been struck.

“Yieouch!” Sarai let out shaking her hand. “Whoa!” She breathed, wiggling her fingers. “She didn’t even touch me!”

Vera shook her head. “She not fast as you but make much power. Balance and leverage extend your reach. Even if she miss you—make you hurt—make you retreat. Too much speed take away balance. No balance, less power, and you open.” She looked to Wren. “Canta.”

Wren brought her fists together, knuckle to knuckle and bowed to Vera, she then retreated a step with her hands behind her back.

Bannor found it interesting that the normally irreverent Wren treated Vera with a respect that he’d only seen her show with her mother or grandmother.

“I didn’t realize you knew stuff like this!” Sarai said to Wren with wide eyes.

Wren shrugged, gleaming blonde hair falling down around her glowing eyes. “I’m still just a student. I’ve only been training two or three summers.”

Sarai looked down at her hand. “Still, I can only imagine what it would feel like if you’d actually hit me.”

“When you get good, it makes holes in things,” Wren confirmed.

“I think I see,” Sarai said with a furrowed brow. “Hitting so strongly seems to make you even more vulnerable though—you’re rooted.”

“Not really,” Wren said, shaking her head. “When you master the technique, you don’t have to plant yourself. The idea is your hit happens ahead of your attack. It’s like you’re ten times as fast without the vulnerability caused by losing your balance.” Wren stepped forward and touched Sarai’s arm. She gestured to Senalloy and then Vera. “Fighting with people as skilled as they are, if you’re off balance for even a fraction of a heartbeat, it’s like a big sign that screams ‘punish me!’.”

“Really?” Sarai said with an incredulous tone. “What about all that bouncing on one foot, and that swaying around? She can’t be balanced like that.”

Wren frowned at looked over a Vera. The olive-skinned girl tilted her head and raised her eyebrows.

“She’s a grand master; something to do with counterbalances and leverage. She can be twisted up like a boat hawser and hit you so hard your great aunt feels it. Believe me, I know…”

“I see.” She looked over to Senalloy. “Does what she says make any sense to you?”

The woman brushed at her silver hair. “The balance thing—absolutely. Focusing the point of attack ahead of the actual strike is a fairly universal martial technique. However, you are not going to be able to fly around like that overnight. You’d have to start from scratch and learn the whole system.”

“I don’t want to learn a whole system. I just want to be able to fight those damn Kriar,” Sarai growled. “That witch Vratague made me look like a green recruit.”

Wren rolled her eyes. “We’re back to that again. The shaladen is powerful, yes. It can make you stronger, faster, able to read the other person’s moves. The elders have the same thing, it’s a part of them and they have centuries of practice as well.”

“There must be a way,” Sarai insisted. “Eclipse took her out like she was nothing.”

“Sarai,” Senalloy said. “We’ve been over this before. He’s like the best warrior the Kriar have. He’d make anyone except maybe an eternal look like a lily-hopper with a broken leg. That Vratague was one of their elites. I don’t think I could have made a dent in her.”

“I don’t care,” Sarai said. “I have to be better than that. I was there to protect Mother and I performed horrendously.”

“Star, you didn’t do that bad,” Bannor tried.

“Bannor, don’t patronize me,” she growled. She turned to Vera. When she spoke, it was in a much more respectful voice. “Lady Vera, could I see some more, say against Senalloy?”

Vera raised an eyebrow. She looked over to Senalloy, who looked on with folded arms.

The Baronian woman shrugged. “I’m willing.”

The little woman looked up at Wren.

Wren grinned at her. “I think you’ll need both hands.”

Vera smiled. She looked back to Sarai and nodded.

Senalloy stepped out to the center and Wren stood between them. Sarai stepped over by Bannor watching the two warriors, glowing violet eyes narrowed in concentration. Senalloy dwarfed tiny Vera, being almost half a pace taller. The little woman didn’t look afraid though.

Squaring off against Senalloy, Vera bobbed and weaved, hands tracing patterns in the air in front of her, feet switching stances constantly.

“Ready,” Wren said. “Go!”

Like the fight between Senalloy and Dulcere, the battle between the little G’Yakki and the huge Baronian woman happened at tremendous speed and with brutal power. Grinning and laughing Senalloy embraced the battle like she was dancing with her favorite partner.

Vera seemed to be in three places at once. Hands and feet thrashing the air, she seemed to fly between Senalloy’s attacks, guarding and countering. Kicks and punches thrown with hurricane force made the air of the chamber hum and shudder. The sound of flesh on flesh sounded like sails snapping in a gale. While she didn’t laugh or show any outward emotion, she seemed to live the battle, reveling in Senalloy’s glee and pushing even harder.

Somewhere in the flurry of attacks, Senalloy found an opening. Without his savant senses, there was no way to tell, how or where, but it sent the much smaller woman flying. He sucked a breath expecting Vera to splash against the wall. Instead she hit the padded surface with her feet and launched back at the Baronian like an arrow. The speed of her counter caught the bigger woman off guard, and Vera took the legs out from under her.

Silver-haired Senalloy went down with a crash. The fall must have surprised her because she let out an angry snarl. She righted herself in a flash and held up her hands. “Hold. That’s enough,” her voice was harsh and not jovial like before. That strike must have hurt a lot.

Vera who had flipped back to her feet, dropped her guard.

Bannor glanced to Corim. The other man’s mouth was hanging open. He’d probably never seen Senalloy get knocked down.

The Baronian pressed her hands together and bowed. “Little sister.”

Vera bowed. She grinned. “Big sister.”

“That was—awesome,” Daena breathed. “She’s my new hero. Talk about ‘size doesn’t matter’—whoa!”

“That’s their cook???” Janai said, shaking her head in dismay. “She’s like a whole frelling army by herself.”

Senalloy let out a breath and rubbed her arms. She looked angry, but Bannor realized it was herself she was angry at, not Vera. “I can see I need to practice my open hand technique more. I’m getting old and sloppy when I get punished like that.”

“Sen?” Corim said. “What’s wrong?”

“This.” Senalloy held up her forearms and turned them out. The Baronian’s iron-hard skin was split, blackened and bruised from blocking Vera’s attacks. She pulled up the cuff of her breeches, showing similar damage all the way from her instep to her knee. She tilted her head, obviously admiring Vera. “My sister loves you fierce, I wondered if she was getting soft on me. Now, I know better.”

Now, Bannor understood why she had called a halt to the fight. She was starting to get angry and didn’t want to show it.

He glanced at Sarai. She was staring too.

“Sarai, if you want to learn power, this girl knows it,” Senalloy said with genuine respect. “It’s like getting hit by a mattock.” She looked to Wren. “Imagine what she could do with a body like yours.”

Wren rubbed Vera’s shoulder. “Oh, there’s a scary thought.”

“Vera apologizes,” the little woman said to Senalloy. “Went too hard.”

“Oh no!” Senalloy knelt down in front of Vera, and before the little woman could step away snared her in a hug. “That was great!” She leaned back from Vera. “For my own ego, will you do something for me?”

Vera blinked and nodded.

“Untie your sleeves.”

The little woman complied, releasing the laces on her arms and pushing up her sleeves. “This was the best one.” She pointed to a single large black bruise the size of his fist on her left arm where the skin was split. Bannor winced, that had to smart. The girl treated it the way he might a cat scratch though. She indicated three smaller bruises. “These good too.”

Senalloy picked up Vera’s other arm, examining the handful of bruises. “Damn, I really have to train more. Magic is making me fat and slow. Here, give me that other arm back,” She took Vera’s left arm in her hands, and pressed glowing fingertips to the wound. The injury, along with the other damage on her arm vanished after only a moment. Vera allowed her to heal the other arm as well.

“The impressive thing is she’s got almost no enhancements,” Sarai said. “It’s all training. Damn.” She drew a breath. “So, I am right. Someone with less power can compete at the level of an elder.”

Senalloy folded her arms and gave Sarai a sidelong look.

“Yes, with less power but with training ten times as intense.” Corim said, still observing from the bench. “Now, I teach fighting and frankly all the discourse and demonstration are fascinating to me. I could watch all day. However, if you want to match a Kriar in the short term using the shaladen, you are going about it the wrong way.”

“And the right way would be?” Sarai prompted with hands on hips.

“Simply put, you have to reverse your approach. Raw speed and power can’t make you rise to their level. Instead, you have to bring them down to yours.”

“And I would do that how?” Sarai demanded.

“Yes, mister sage, how does she do that?” Senalloy said with an arched eyebrow.

Corim sniffed. He rose from the bench with a languid grace that showed he was physically as formidable as he was smart. He touched the thick band on his wrist. “Sarai, you and I, we both have these shaladens. Stop thinking of yours as a weapon. It’s far more than that, it’s a tool—an equalizer if you will—because we can’t all be eternals. How much of an equalizer depends on how clearly you think.” He pulled the band off his arm and the malleable weapon became a gleaming silver ball. He turned and faced Senalloy with one fist on his waist. “Now, in a straight up fight, even with the shaladen, Senalloy would kick my arse.”

The Baronian put hands on hips. “You know I would.”

“Her ex-master, Rakaar, the thief who stole the genemar proved that. I lost my arm in that fight and came within hairs of dying. I only lived because Senalloy was there to save me.”

The silver-haired woman bit her tongue expressively. “Nice of you to recognize that.”

Corim grinned and began tossing the ball up and down. “Now, say I wanted to teach her a lesson?” He glanced at Sarai and tilted his head. “I could make this into a sword, and end up getting schooled in several new definitions for the word pain or—” He oriented and threw the ball at Senalloy.

Startled, the Baronian tried to dodge, but the ball turned in mid-air and hit her with a loud splat. Instantly, tendrils sprung out from the shaladen winding around the big woman.

“Hey! Hey!” she let out. She struggled, energy and magic crackled and blazed around her body as she instinctively tried to resist the powerful item. With a snap, all of her magic went black. “Ow! Corim…” She growled. The powerful elder twisted and writhed, as the silver tendrils constricted her movements down to the barest twitch. “Grrr…”

He walked over and stood in front of her with folded arms.

“Let—go…” the Baronian rasped.

He stood on tip-toe and leaned forward until his nose was almost touching hers. “Now, who got schooled, hmmm?” He reached up and gave her nose a tap. He looked over his shoulder to Sarai. “I think I can handle her now—don’t you?” The third princess nodded with wide violet eyes.

“Corim, let me go or I really will school your arse.”

“I trust my point is made.” He took hold of the Baronian’s shoulder. The shaladen flowed around his fingers and down his arm, reforming into a thick metal band around his wrist.

Senalloy rubbed her arms and frowned at him.

He sniffed, looking away from her. “Ever notice how people who tease aren’t very good at taking it when they get teased back?”

Senalloy’s jaw worked, and she mastered herself. She took a deep breath, and her violet eyes gleamed. She gave his shoulder a shove. “Cor, if you’re going to tie me up, the least you can do is give me a kiss.”

The man flushed. “I did not tie you up.”

“It sure felt—” She stopped as the dueling room doors opened and a tall green body swayed in.

The elder stopped in the entry and looked around. In the days since the encounter with Vratague, Gaea had done nothing but grow stronger. Her magic was becoming more and more abundant as she learned to make enchantments function. She was already attractive, and the layers of energy that surrounded her highlighted it. The green mother dressed provocatively, obviously enjoying the stares she caused. Today she was in a gold silk weskit that barely covered her ample top and a pair of purplish almost see-through pantaloons.

“Hello everyone,” Gaea greeted, brushing at the shining expanse of her dark hair which hung down over her shoulders like a cloak.

She saw Vera and her grin grew larger. “Su’Ko Tai, little niece, I had wondered when I would see you!”

Vera centered on Gaea, dark eyes going wide. She threw herself onto her knees, head hitting the mats so hard between her hands that Bannor thought she would knock herself out. She started mumbling something in another language over and over.

Gaea pushed out her lip and leaned toward Wren. “Now there’s a girl who respects her mother.”

The goddess sashayed in, brushing a hand against Wren’s cheek as she passed, rubbing Daena’s shoulder, and trailing her fingers across Bannor’s chest before kneeling in front of Vera.

“Su’Ko,” Gaea said putting a hand on Vera’s back. “Such displays are not necessary.”

“Please,” Vera said in a whimpering tone.

“Please?” Gaea repeated. “What is the matter little niece?”

“Not call me—Su’Ko,” Vera said with obvious effort, face still buried in the mat.

Gaea raised her gaze to Wren. Dark jewel-like eyes narrowed. “I thought you got her through all of that.”

Wren grimaced. “Sort of, we made things better. Some bridges we simply couldn’t mend. We had to break more than a few just to get heard…”

“Ah,” Gaea said. She turned back to Vera, took her shoulders and lifted the little woman like she might a baby. The G’Yakki warrior’s face was a mask of terror.

Gaea hugged the little woman. Being fairly tall, it was almost like she was cradling a toddler to her bosom. “My little pillar of strength. I owe you so much for being there when my daughter so badly needed it.”

Vera hung lax as though her limbs had turned to putty. After a few moments, she wrapped herself around Gaea.

“Ah, that’s better,” Gaea murmured, stroking Vera’s back. The goddess’ eyes widened and she coughed. “Urk! My—she—she has quite—quite a—grip.”

“I think she likes you,” Senalloy remarked.

Wren tilted her head. “Need help?”

Gaea looked down. She let go and swung around. With Vera being so small, the little woman’s slight weight wasn’t even enough to force Gaea to shift her balance. The green mother shrugged and bounced, but with her arms and legs locked around Gaea’s middle and neck, the little G’Yakki woman wasn’t going anywhere.

A look of concern started to pull down the lines of Gaea’s face. “Oh dear, she appears to have become attached.”

“Oh, that’s not good,” Sarai let out dashing over. “Here,” she reached out and took Vera’s shoulders. “Ow!” She yelped, snatching her fingers back and shaking her hands. “She’s hot!”

“Damn,” Daena said. “Get her off or she’ll burst into flames!”

Wren came forward, trying to pull the G’Yakki away. Having immortal flesh, the heat didn’t bother her, but Vera was locked in place. “Gaea, she’s going to burn herself up!”

“I know, I know,” Gaea said, pushing at the little woman. “She is beastly strong and I don’t want to hurt the dear. She just wants some solace.” She put a hand against Vera’s head. “She is such a determined little thing. Even mind-touches just slide off. Ah, I know,” she sat down, pushed Vera’s head back and kissed her on the lips.

The little woman’s eyes snapped open, and she startled away from Gaea. Her eyes fluttered and she fell back and lay still, chest slowly rising and falling.

“There,” Gaea soothed, stroking Vera’s hair. “You’ll feel better in little bit.”

“That was mean,” Wren growled, fists on hips.

“Mean?” Gaea said turning from Vera, and putting a finger to her lower lip. “It worked. Besides, Ziedra loves it when I kiss her.”

“Ziedra is about as straight as a horse shoe.”

“You and your social morays,” Gaea chided. “You know Vera has quite a thing for you.”

Wren’s mouth dropped open like she’d been kicked in the stomach. “Mother, that’s not funny.”

“Did I say it like I was teasing you?”

“B-b-but…”

“Ziedra is sweet on you too, you don’t go all butter lips over that.”

“Zee is fay!”

“Excuse me?” Janai snapped.

“It’s an expression,” Wren snapped over her shoulder. She stared at Vera’s sleeping form. “No way.”

Gaea shook her head. “Could anyone else get her in here to trade hits with Senalloy?”

“Well, no,” Wren said. “She—I—ahhh!” She pulled her hair. “I do not need another unrequited tension situation!”

“You have to admit Wren, the ladies do love you,” Senalloy teased.

Wren snarled at her, making the elder back up a step, hands held out in a placating gesture.

Gaea shrugged. “You’ve always been rather dumb when it comes to romantic things.”

“I am not dumb!” Wren snapped. “It always the wrong time or the wrong sex, damn it!”

“At least it isn’t because of how you smell,” Sarai said with a grin.

“It’s not funny,” Wren moaned looking down at Vera. “Vera is the last person in the world I would want to hurt. She’s had it so rough, her whole family died, then her husband, and she got cast out—it was no fun.”

“She was married?” Janai asked.

“Yes,” Wren said. “He didn’t treat her very nice but she loved him anyway.” She sat down by Vera and ran a hand through her hair. “I hope you’re okay. That would be a lot of Mother for anybody.”

“She’ll be fine,” Gaea said, turning to them and flipping back her dark hair. “Well, now that the incident is over, I wanted to get with you on some things. Sarai’s decoy plan is nearly ready to go—” She turned to Sarai. “That was a good idea daughter-to-be.”

Sarai nodded.

“Janai, your inspired idea that we make our own genemar is also proceeding,” she said. “I simply wish it were progressing more rapidly. It really is our best chance if we can’t locate the Daergon genemar.”

“Are you still confident it can destroy the other genemar?” Corim asked.

Gaea clicked her teeth. “The signature Koass pulled out of his timescan is a bit sketchy. I won’t know if it’s accurate enough to use for targeting until we have our own genemar working.” She looked around. “I know—not good news. I do have something that should make you happier.”

The goddess gestured and a heavy silver necklace with black teardrop shaped stone appeared in her hand. “I was able to finish the sacrifice defense that we discussed at dinner.”

She rose and walked to Bannor and put it over his head. “This will stop one attack from the genemar. You’ll know it, because the gem will shatter.”

Bannor touched Gaea’s hand. “Thank you, Mother.”

“You’re quite welcome my son,” she said, caressing his cheek with a warm hand. The feel of her fingers against his naked skin made his whole body tingle.

Senalloy stepped over and leaned down to look at the device hanging around his neck. She lifted it in her hand and turned the jewel over in her fingers. After a moment, she turned back to Gaea. “The shield problem ended up too complex?”

“Yes, there simply isn’t enough time,” Gaea answered. “The Daergons won’t wait that long. I’m surprised they’ve held off until now. I’ve been worried the whole time they would hit Bannor or Daena again before I finished this.”

She gestured and another necklace identical to the first appeared. She approached Daena and put it over her head.

“Thank you, Mother,” Daena said, giving Gaea a hug.

One thing was certain, the green goddess adored attention and especially physical contact. At times, the aura around her became so strong it was like being drunk. It felt good and it was nearly impossible to focus.

The green mother hugged Daena back and kissed her forehead.

She summoned a third necklace and put it on Wren.

“Mother Gaea,” Corim asked. “What about the Shael Dal? What were you and Koass able to determine about the genemar affecting us?”

Gaea let out a breath. “You are certainly not immune like we hoped. You will be able to survive a few hits because of the strength of the eternals, but even one hit will mean serious injury.” She touched the black jewel hanging around Wren’s neck, and looked back at him. “I shared my design with eternal Czar and he’s working on devices like these for the Shael Dal.”

“Damn,” Bannor said. “We have to get that thing away from them.”

“Matradomma,” Sarai said. “Were you able to help Mother with Uncle Bertrand?”

Gaea shook her head. “I think it’s pretty much hopeless. I’ve tried everything I could think of. We even got Drakka’Tah in to look at him. Vratague scrambled him up so good he’s lucky to remember his name. He certainly doesn’t remember when he started helping them, and whether Vratague had accomplices.”

“When I spoke with Marna they still hadn’t had any success with Vratague,” Senalloy said.

“No,” Gaea confirmed. “It’s standard procedure for Kriar cover operatives to store their memories out of body the same way their mecha do. Her mind cannot be read, and the knowledge itself is encrypted. Quasar and Eclipse have made a few attempts to find her memory repository, but it’s fairly certain that even if they could get to it is likely the data would be destroyed before they could get anything useful.”

“Quasar,” Wren muttered, shaking her head. “Dad and Mom are still hacked at her. She can make all the fancy excuses she wants, and Marna can apologize for her until she’s blue. They can barely stand to be in the same room with her.”

“Aren’t you mad at her, Lady Wren?” Corim asked.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Wren answered with a shrug. “It does seem a little petty to get worked up over it. What did Quasar call it? We weren’t kidnapped—we were—”

“Locationally inconvenienced,” Janai filled in.

“Your father just about lost it,” Daena said, shaking her head. “I’ve never seen your dad get angry. He hardly ever even raises his voice.”

“That reminds me,” Gaea said. “Wren, where has Azir gotten off too? I have seen little of him.”

“My brother thinks about a total of six things,” Wren said, holding up a hand and ticking them off on her fingers. “Girls—food—girls—fighting—sleeping. Oh yes, did I mention—girls?”

Gaea raised an eyebrow and smiled. “So, the ascendant body hasn’t hurt his libido, is that what you’re saying?”

Wren rolled her eyes. “Mother, I understand about sewing a few oats. He’s trying to plant a whole field! It’s silly.”

“Child, he’d never force a girl.”

“That’s not the problem. Couldn’t he at least not be so obvious about it? Those winged hussies have made him insufferable.”

“I don’t know Wren, he had a pretty big ego to begin with,” Janai remarked with a grin. “He’s had the ladies tittering since he got here.”

“It never stops,” Wren said. “I fear for the female gender, I swear.”

“He can’t be making time with that many girls unless he’s doing something right,” Senalloy laughed, pushing a hand through her hair. “Especially with telepathy and the teams so close to one another, if he was the least bit uncouth he’d never see another lady.”

She sniffed. “Those damn over-sexed harpies are the worst. They’re all too old for him.”

“He’ll settle down,” Gaea said. “Wren, give your brother his due. He’s handsome, intelligent, brave—not surprising the girls hang off him.”

“You forgot ‘incorrigible’ and ‘randy beyond reason’,” Wren grumbled. She turned on him. “Bannor, were you like that when you were his age?”

He leaned back from her intensity. “Wren, I am his age. I’ve had like three girlfriends my entire life, and Sarai is number three.”

Wren waved a hand. “I’m sorry. You just seem so much more mature than he is.”

She turned to Corim and narrowed her eyes. “You have all kinds of girlfriends too…”

The burly man folded his arms and frowned. “I do not. Matayans practice monogamy exclusively.”

“He just likes to lead all the young women on,” Senalloy said sliding over and running her fingers through Corim’s hair again.

The big man sighed and his shoulders rounded down like someone had put a castle on his back.

Senalloy tilted her head. “Isn’t he cute when he gets all flustered?”

Gaea looked around. “So what was all the fuss? Was Sarai still trying to find a way to fell giants with her shaladen?”

His wife-to-be rolled her eyes. “I guess. I just feel like I could have done more. I think Corim convinced me to stop trying to use the brute force approach.”

The corner of Gaea’s mouth quirked up. “Brute force would have been so much more satisfying, wouldn’t it?”

Sarai’s cheeks colored. Obviously, the goddess had read through her like a pane of glass.

“So, Mother Gaea,” Corim asked. “Is there anything we can do? Any tasks we can perform to assist with the genemar or any of the other projects?”

“I do have one indulgent thing you can do for me,” Gaea said.

“What’s that?”

“I heard daughter Janai mentioning that she missed being in the court and lady Velastra’s pastries. The way she described them—mmmm.” She sighed.

“I didn’t know you were serious,” Janai said. “I’ll have a variety catered in for dinner.”

The goddess clapped her hands. “Oh, will you? That will be marvelous. I know it’s terrible… but I do so love sweets.” Her features hardened. “There is a real mission though. I thought the eternals would have some of the materials I needed, but it appears the stores at Starholme will be the only place we can acquire them. Wren, can you take Bannor, Daena, and some of the others and collect a sort of grocery list for me?”

“Of course, Mother. I just need to know where and what.”

“That will be one of the things. It may be dangerous. It’s in the pits and some of my other children may still live there.”

Bannor’s brow furrowed. “What other children?”

“Well, at one time I had some of the Lokori stationed there to guard Starholme. It was hundreds of millennia ago, but there’s still a chance they might be there.”

“The Lokori,” Corim repeated. “The same ones that tore up all the Kriar, right?”

Gaea winced. “Yes. If we’re going to finish that genemar, we’re going to need those things.”

“I better go then,” Senalloy said. “If they’re that tough, even Wren is going to have trouble with them.”

“No more than six,” Gaea said. “The security in that area won’t allow more than six in at a time.”

Bannor frowned. “I better not go then. With my nola so weak, I’m a burden.”

The green mother rounded on him and slapped his shoulder. “I will not hear such talk. My gifts to you are much more than your ability to see or disassemble the threads of reality. You have very good instincts and you lead well. Daughter Sarai isn’t marrying Bannor the savant, she’s marrying Bannor the man.” She smacked his shoulder again. “Remember it. I trust I shall never hear such talk again.”

He sighed and gritted his teeth. “Yes, Mother,” he relented. That certainly had come out of nowhere. Wren and Daena were staring at him. It figured, the first scolding Gaea dished out just had to be him.

Didn’t she understand that he had felt like a cripple the last few days? It was like all the light had gone out of the inside of him. All the times he wished he never had the garmtur. So stupid. It was a part of him. He never realized just how much until it had been viciously torn from his tao.

“After that little outburst,” Gaea said. “Wren, Bannor is going. If Sen is going, I suggest Ziedra, Daena, and I’ll dig up your brother. It will give him something to do besides make the valkyries walk funny.”

“Oh please, would you?” Wren said.

Gaea looked to Sarai. “You can let go of Bannor for a few bells can’t you?”

The third princess scowled. “If I have to. This sounds pretty dangerous.”

“If you hadn’t noticed, being around this citadel is dangerous,” Gaea told her. “The Baronians or the Daergons could attack at any time. That’s why we can’t afford to wait and hope that some of the materials turn up.”

Sarai focused violet eyes on him. “Yes, Matradomma.”

Return to Contents

Chapter Ten

I saw a little snip of a girl a third of Lady
Senalloy’s size go at her and not only hold
her own, but actually hammer the elder so
bad she stopped the fight. She did it without
special powers, just raw skill and
conditioning. Granted she had four times
the lifespan of a normal person, but still…
To me, it demonstrated the value of
knowledge and dedication. It is a lesson I
will not forget…
—Bannor Nalthane Starfist,
Prince Conjugal of Malan

Bannor put his boot on the bench and cinched the laces down tight. As usual, the council chambers were chosen as the sendoff point, the ancient halls of law and judgment resonated with the wisdom of the elf elders. Over the days, he had become comfortable and sometimes sat in the hall alone listening to the silence. Sometimes, he simply needed the quiet. Prior to losing the garmtur, his mind had seemed so crowded, the voices of his brothers and sisters constantly in his head.

After being alone for most of his life, feeling such a kinship had definitely warmed a part of him long cold. It took a while to get accustomed to it, but when he did, knowing they were there made him feel stronger and more self assured. He felt that emptiness now. He stood alone so long—being self sufficient—hiding in that cabin in the woods avoiding people. He hated people—they couldn’t be trusted—not even the ones that raised you. Deep down inside him, he still felt that betrayal. He had been thirteen summers old when the King’s guard dragged him and Rammal off to fight in the war.

It had taken being whipped, begging and slave-labor just to stay in the same regiment with his brother. When a Northrealm arrow lamed Ramm, Bannor carried him leagues, trying to get him to safety. In the end, the flood of attackers overran them and his brother took more arrow hits and expired in a ditch. He had done everything he could do.

None of that mattered to his father. Ramm was his favorite, his first born, his prodigy—how dare Bannor let Rammal die. Ten summers later his father’s curt words still hurt. Why did you have to live instead of Ramm?

His mother and sister had railed at Father’s harshness, but broke under the storm of his anger and disappointment. Bannor had not seen his mother or father since the day he walked out, body numbed and spirit crushed by his father’s indifference, and his mother’s weakness.

He saw Ravan in Tenax a few tendays after the incident. His sister had been ashamed and unable to summon the courage to do more than ask after his health. They had parted after a brittle silence. He remembered her expression, brow furrowed in concern. There had been so many questions in her eyes.

Angered by her timid attempts at communication, he had been the one to turn away. She reminded him of what he would never have again.

Summers later, when touring a borderlands town, he heard she had gotten married. A few times, he promised himself to make the trek down south to visit her. It never crystallized. He would have had to search. He would have had to go back to Drenin-town and ask around. Then he would have been far too close to Father. Even now, he didn’t know what he would say if he ever met him again; so many summers—so much bitterness.

He felt a hand on his back. “Hey,” a female voice said to him.

Bannor straightened and turned to look into Daena’s green glowing eyes. The girl looked down. Since the incident, she still had trouble meeting his gaze. He studied the girl’s strong, hard body, the auburn hair falling down around her face. Dressed in the tight-fitting Kriar battle armor she cut an impressive figure.

“Hello, Daena,” he said, leaning against the pillar.

The girl looked around. “Where’s Sarai? Why are you off in the corner here by yourself?”

His jaw worked a little. “Reflecting is all. Sarai is mad at me.”

“Mad at you?” Her brow furrowed. “Why? You’re just doing what Gaea told you to do.”

He scowled at her. “You’re a woman—you tell me.”

She blinked. “Oh. Well, I suppose she’s just concerned.” She looked around. “So, I guess we’re early?”

“The others had stuff to do. Gaea had to find Azir. Wren had to speak with her folks and get Ziedra. Sen is around.”

Daena sighed. She walked over and fell into one of the conference table chairs. She studied him from her seat, glowing green eyes unblinking. After a few moments she said, “You know, if you need to talk, I’ll listen. I know I’m not full of good advice and stuff—but I figure by now, you’re probably tired of being preached to by the know-it-alls.”

He let out a harsh laugh. “That’s for sure. I don’t know there’s much to talk about. Can’t change the past, right?”

The girl leaned her head to one side. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Someone with your power shouldn’t even make jokes about that,” a deep female voice said from across the chamber.

Bannor turned to see Megan Vinax, the leader of the Shael Dal come strolling in. Dressed in black chain-mail, rainbow colored wings shining, he always found her to be an amazing sight. The air-maiden brushed at her gleaming blonde hair as she glided across the room. Bannor noticed she was a carrying a long thin box under her arm.

“I hear you’re going on a mission,” the woman said as she approached. “Koass asked me to give you something to take with you.”

“Koass?” His brow furrowed. “What?”

Megan stopped in front of him and held up the box. The container was over a pace long and made of black enameled wood inlaid with gold and precious jewels. Whatever was inside must have incredible value.

Bannor looked into the woman’s shining blue eyes. Her face was too sharp to be strictly called beautiful. It was the benevolence and strength that shone from her that made this creature so entrancing. He reached out to the box and ran a finger across the glossy smooth surface of the wood.

Megan turned and walked over to the conference table. She set the box down. There were two golden clasps holding the lid shut. She turned the pinions, released them, and swung the lid up.

He stepped over to look. Inside on a bed of blue velvet was a long two-edged battlesword made of what looked like shimmering water. Reflections danced along the blade, making the edges flicker like the wavering of air on a desert horizon. Even without his savant senses he felt the power of the thing. His heart thudded. It could be only one thing.

Daena rose from her chair and leaned over to look. “Whoa.”

“A shaladen?” he said. “Koass is giving me a shaladen?”

“Loaning you a shaladen,” Megan corrected. “As an ascendant you wouldn’t need it—but you might not be an ascendant again—” She frowned. “Ever. This is our way of apologizing.”

“Apologizing? I don’t follow.”

“The Daergons and the Baronians are really the responsibility of the Protectorate. You were called in to consult and thus their attention became focused on you. Koass feels responsible for what has happened. Thus, he feels this honorary blade may fill the void in the mean time… provided you will obey the rules of the Shael Dal.”

“The rules didn’t seem that hard.”

Megan tilted her head, golden hair wreathing around her face. “They aren’t really.”

He looked at the glittering blade. If it was like the others, Sarai and he would be joined the same way he had been with the other savants.

He remembered the feel of Sharonsheen in his hand. It had been like grasping a star.

“There is another benefit,” Megan said, running her finger along the blade. She seemed in no hurry. “Koass said having the shaladen should make your tao heal faster.”

“Really?” The thought made a shock of hope surge through him. “Does he know that for sure?”

Megan pushed out her lip and shrugged. “He only mentioned it in passing,” she said. “He is my husband. Given past experience, he rarely mentions things he isn’t fairly certain of.” She looked down to the weapon. “This blade is called Xersis. Before he became an eternal, Koass used this weapon in close to fifty campaigns. He had it made into an honorary shaladen as a way of preserving it. He thinks of it as a good luck charm. You’re very special Bannor. Zedar and Alisha, his other two surrogates were not offered this weapon.”

Bannor stared at the thing. It was hard not to be intimidated. He knew from previous experience just how powerful these weapons were. “Are you sure about this? Me?”

Megan smiled. “Bannor, my husband is a paladin.” She fluttered her wings. “He’s a paladin among paladins—he knows a good man when he sees him. So do I. Take it, use it. It will keep those Daergons from tracking you and possibly using that hideous device on you again.”

“Do it, Brother,” Daena said. “Especially if will help you heal.”

He sighed and nodded. “All right, Megan. I accept this shaladen and promise to obey the laws of Shael Dal, and follow the orders of my host Eternal, Koass.”

Megan made a bow to him. “Well said.” She looked to Daena. “You may want to step back.” Daena hastily retreated a few steps. “Bannor, say the weapon’s name.”

He drew a breath. “Xersis,” he said.

“Now, take the hilt in both hands, step back to the middle of the room and raise the weapon over your head.”

He drew a breath. He reached into the case and took the hilt in one hand and lifted it gently from the case. The weapon was heavier than he expected. Sparks spun in orbits around the blade as he wrapped his other hand around the base of the pommel. He stepped back to the center of the chamber and looked back to Megan and Daena.

“Now?”

Megan nodded.

He raised the weapon over his head.

The air maiden raised her hand. In a flare of light, Sharonsheen appeared in her fist, rasping and crackling with magic. She held the shimmering blade up in front of her. “Bannor, repeat after me,” Megan said to him. “I Bannor Starfist…”

He swallowed and spoke in a clear voice. “I Bannor Starfist…”

The valkyrie’s eyes gleamed, reflecting the bright light emanating from Xersis and Sharonsheen. “Accept this shaladen and hereby swear to lawfully serve the Protectorate with honor, courage, and dignity.”

He tilted his head back feeling the power in the blade grow. He steeled himself and repeated the words. “Accept this shaladen—” Tongues of bluish magic flickered and licked down the blade, across his arm and spun around his chest. His heart beat fast and his stomach tightened. “And hereby swear to lawfully serve—” Streamers of red energy whirled and licked around his legs. Rings of golden flames trailed down his arms. “The Protectorate with honor, courage, and—dignity.”

The magic of the shaladen continued to grow. As he spoke the last word of his allegiance, the room went white. A flood of heat and strength crashed into him. The threads of the universe, dark for days flared into his vision. A burning ache that felt like his skull being cracked in half started behind his eyes and seemed to burrow deeper.

The pain made him yell. Heart thrashing and gasping with agony he was greeted by a colossal blast of magic that punched down from the ceiling overhead like a giant blue-white fist that smashed him to his knees, sparking and humming around his limbs. His flesh rippled and pulsed as magic burrowed into every pore of his body.

Thoughts and emotions surfed through him, new brothers and sisters, who felt his presence welcomed him to their union. With a last surge and a hiss, the transformation subsided, the last of the sparks and magic disappearing into his skin.

He dropped the tip of the sword to the floor with a clunk. Trails of smoke made lazy ribbons in the air around his body.

Heaving deep breaths, he shook his head, certain that something rattled. “Ughm,” he mumbled. “That—that—was worse—worse—than Sh-sharonsheen.”

Megan leaned forward. “That’s because that time it was just temporary. This was a full deputizing and transformation. Your essence is now unique throughout all of the time winds. Chronal energy can no longer do you serious harm. Your mind and body have fully become an extension of Koass.”

She tilted her head. She focused her attention on Sharonsheen, the weapon seemed to melt, flowing down around her hand and becoming a thick jeweled band on her arm. Her attention went back to him, her voice continued in his mind, warm and familiar. <That makes us brother and sister now.> The words didn’t startle him like it usually did. It seemed—natural—comfortable.

“Whoa,” he murmured. Colors seemed brighter, everything seemed sharper and in stronger contrast. Even his hearing seemed more sensitive. His ascendant body which was already physically powerful seemed feather-light now, like when his nola had been at its full strength.

He pushed to his feet. It felt like nothing was holding him down. He held the massive blade in one hand. He couldn’t even feel it. He looked down at his free hand opening and closing his fingers. The shaladen augmentation was designed to reinforce mortal flesh. What was he now? So many sensations.

<My One?> Sarai’s voice echoed in his mind. <What happened, why do I feel you in my shaladen?>

He focused on his wife-to-be, concentrating to speak with her the way he did through savant communication. <Koass gave me a shaladen to use until my tao is healed.>

<Oh, that’s wonderful!> It felt as if warm arms pulled him close in a hug. He felt her lips press against his.

<Uhmm, does that mean you aren’t mad at me anymore?>

He felt her frown in his mind. <I wasn’t mad at you.>

<Then why did—>

<I wasn’t mad at you,> she insisted. <I love you.>

He hung his head. He might live to be a hundred summers old or a thousand, he didn’t think he would ever figure out women.

Megan came and put a hand on his shoulder. The valkyrie was warm and smelled of exotic spices. “Remember Bannor,” she patted him on the chest. “A woman always has the prerogative to change her mind, even when it’s made up.”

“I’ll remember that.” He sighed. “Like I would ever be allowed to forget.”

The valkyrie chuckled. “I wish I could say it changes when we get older.” She bit her lip and gave him a coy little smile. “It doesn’t.”

“Hey, Bannor what was all the—n-noise?” Wren froze in the council hall entry with Ziedra floating behind her. “Whoa.” She blinked her glowing blue eyes.

He frowned. He looked down at himself. “Do I look different?”

“It’s not your appearance, I can feel you way over here. Force is just radiating from you.”

“That is a great deal of magic,” Ziedra said floating over to him. She was dressed in the Kriar armor like the rest of them, the tight fitting clothing making her voluptuous proportions more than obvious. One thing was different though. The magic savant’s hair had gone from obsidian black to gray.

He blinked. “Lady Zee, your hair! What happened?”

Ziedra sighed. She pulled a few strands of hair around to look at them. “Gaea happened. The magic she’s been having me do is too much even for this body. Moving her host body out of range of the genemar, setting the tracers and such, it’s magic like you wouldn’t believe. I’ve learned so much. The biggest thing I’ve learned unfortunately is that while Marna did a great job designing bodies for the rest of you, for the highest level magic it’s still not so good. Little by little I’m getting myself adapted, but until then…” She pushed out her lower lip and blew up a strand of gray hair.

“You’re not in any danger are you?” he said, concerned.

Ziedra looked to Wren and then back to him. “These bodies are tough, and they heal fast. I’ll be okay, Brother. Thank you for your concern though.”

Wren walked over, eyeing the sword in his hand. He looked down, the thing felt so light he almost forgot it was there. He met her glowing blue eyes.

The Kel’varan raised her gaze to Megan. “An ascendant with a shaladen? Koass is really starting to take this serious. He’s starting to hand out shaladens like candy.”

Megan fluttered her wings. “Hardly candy, Wren.” She cast her gaze to the weapon in Bannor’s hand. “You are right though. He very much feels the threat of the genemar, especially with Gaea here.”

Wren stepped close and looked up at him. “So, how do you feel?”

“I—” His brow furrowed. “I don’t think I can describe it. I think I’ll at least find some way to be useful.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Bannor. I’ve seen your instincts pull us through as often as your powers have.” She thumped him on the shoulder. “Don’t know if you’ve noticed my friend, but you’ve earned more than a little respect hereabouts.”

“Bannor,” Ziedra said. “Seeing you fly over that table to protect Daena tells me everything I needed to know about you. I know you would have done that for any of us. That kind of courage makes a lot possible.”

Seeing the unabashed admiration in the lady mage’s expression he felt himself color. To change the subject he focused on Megan. “Milady, would it be possible to show me how to change this weapon’s form like the others do?”

Megan smiled. “Of course. The first time you do it will be a little difficult, but it gets easier with repetition.” She held the arm out with Sharonsheen on it. Her eyes flashed. The band melted and snapped into the shape of the powerful shaladen with crackle of magic.

<I’m going to speak the words directly into your mind,> Megan thought to him. <It makes it a little easier. You must see the shaladen as an extension of you—and you an extension of it. If you look into the shaladen and focus you will see its pattern. You put that pattern in your mind. Once you have that pattern in you, you have only to will it into a different shape.>

Bannor looked at Xersis. A pattern? What she described was the sigil he saw with the garmtur. He relaxed to see the way he did with the garmtur. The lines and threads of the universe overlapped themselves in his vision. The power of the shaladen had restored his nola sight! It wasn’t at full strength, but his sight had returned! He looked down into the shaladen. How could a piece of metal have the sigil pattern of something alive? He pushed down into the complex structure and found the pattern just as Megan described. It wasn’t a sword or a hunk of metal, it was actually a creature! He blinked. Living metal. It wasn’t something simple either. Golden helixes spun and danced around a complex filigree of green and red threads. He sighed at its beautiful symmetry. He impressed that symbol in his mind, feeling the blade resonate through his body; such incredible power.

He visualized the sword becoming like one of his axes. With a sizzle of otherworldly magic and a whirl of golden sparks, it flowed into the new shape and solidified.

Megan blinked. “Oh my, Bannor, so quickly—that is excellent!”

He stared at the blade, feeling its power resonate in his chest like a second heart. He visualized Xersis back into its original form, then changed it to bow. After that, a large kite shield, and then down to an arm band wrapped around his wrist. The weapon flowed through each change, each time responding more quickly and more naturally. The feel of it was intoxicating. He stared at the band on his wrist feeling overwhelmed by the accomplishment and the fact that something so staggeringly potent served him. Its potential was limitless!

Megan put Sharonsheen back on her wrist and stared at him. The woman blinked at him. “Bannor that was amazing.” She thumped him on the shoulder. “Most excellently done!”

He stared at the beautiful valkyrie, face hot from her praise but also from feeling a part of himself he thought gone forever. The shaladen had made him whole again. He felt heat streak down his face. His chest suddenly so tight he could barely breathe.

“Bannor?” Megan tilted her head, brow furrowing. “What is it?”

He shook his head. He hugged her. “Thank you,” he mumbled. “Thank you so much.”

The valkyrie stiffened for a moment in his arms and relaxed. “Ah.” She patted him on the back. “You’re welcome my new brother. I just hope you are still thanking me when this nightmare is over.”

He pushed back after a moment, embarrassed by that show of emotion. “I hope so too.”

Return to Contents

Chapter Eleven

I saw that shaladen in Bannor’s hand
and just shuddered. He was scary enough
with the powers of a savant, and terrifying
with abilities of an ascendant. Sure, he
didn’t have all of his nola powers, but I was
as certain as my next breath that he would
redefine what it meant to be a shaladen
wielder…
—Liandra “Wren” Kergatha,
2nd Princess of Cosmodarus

Bannor rubbed the band of the shaladen on his arm. He felt the warmth of all his new brothers and sisters as well as feeling the presences of all his of nola-wielding relatives here in the citadel. He felt the dark gloom that had been weighing him down start to melt away. Until this instant, he hadn’t realized how profoundly being cut off from them had affected him.

<I swear, Bannor,> Sarai remarked in the back of his head. <You’ve been Shael Dal for thirty beats and you’re already trying to kiss-up to your commander.>

He felt his face flush bright red. He couldn’t do anything now without Sarai knowing it! That was a downside he hadn’t seen coming. It was bad enough when only she had the shaladen. It never occurred to him when they both had one she would be looking over his shoulder every instant.

<Sarai,> Megan said in a firm thought. <It was sweet. Don’t chide him. He is a natural with a shaladen, even better than Corim.>

Bannor felt a bunch of thoughts pinging back and forth as that statement seemed to wash over the group. Apparently, Corim must be very good with his or it wouldn’t have caused so much surprise.

<I’ll be there in a few moments to see you off,> Sarai told him in what he sensed must be a private communication for his hearing only.

He might be good with the shaladen, but he obviously had a lot to learn.

Megan shook her head and said aloud. “My but she is touchy. Must be the baby starting to make her moody.” She sighed. “I was the same way.”

“How many children do you have, Milady?”

The gold-haired valkyrie brightened, obviously the subject of her children was a matter of tremendous pride. “Two daughters—Ralani and Silvia. Ralani was my team-mate in the great game last summer. We didn’t win but we placed well, I was quite proud of her.”

“You played in the Great Game?” Wren asked. “You didn’t play the time I was in it.”

Megan shook her head. “No. I rarely have time for such sport. She couldn’t find a partner. She wanted to play with you, but nobody knew what had happened to you.”

“Yes, we were all in quite a stew around then,” Wren acknowledged. “I get asked to play in the Game once or twice a moon. It’s just too rough for me.”

“They still replay your game,” Megan said. “You were quite spectacular.”

“I was scared to death,” Wren laughed and shook her head. “That makes you run really fast.”

“You should play now,” Ziedra said with a giggle. “It would be their turn to run away…”

Wren grinned. “Hey, now it might be fun to bully them a little…” She looked down at herself. “That is the problem with this body. It is really sturdy and moderately fast, but it’s about as flexible as a scale bark tree. I’m so damn heavy…”

“You have to learn to shift your mass is all,” Daena said with a shrug. “Then you have the best of everything.”

The blonde ascendant pressed her lips to a line. “Well, if I keep this body that long, I’ll beg a little instruction from you.”

“You think you’ll give it up?” Daena said.

Wren blew out her cheeks and looked down at herself. She rubbed her hard stomach and looked at her hands. She was a goddess and looked it. “This is fine for fighting armies of Baronians and evil Kriar.” She shook her head. “When that’s over, what do I need it for? It’s just a big temptation and potential for me to hurt somebody.”

The younger woman frowned and held out her hands. “It’s not like I needed a body this strong to go to parties and study! I’m stuck though… I don’t have a choice.”

Wren raised an eyebrow. “Oh, come on, think now. The T’Evagdurans have Wysteri. You can put that first-one body in stasis, pair your tao-form down to the minimum and avatar in a mortal body.”

“I—” Daena stopped. “I could do that.”

“Don’t know why you would,” Ziedra remarked. “But you could. Me, I’m keeping mine… or at least one like it.” She leaned her head to one side. “If Wren gives up hers, that means I get to rescue her for the rest of her life.” She rubbed her hands together. “Won’t that be grand?”

“Marvelous,” Wren murmured with a roll of her eyes.

“So, anyways Daena,” Ziedra said. “You don’t have to be alone. You’ll have me around.”

Daena stared at Ziedra, perhaps testing to see if she was teasing or serious. She seemed to determine she was serious. She smiled and nodded. “Good.”

“Wren just doesn’t get the little juicy parts of being an ascendant. My husband worships at the altar of this body, it doesn’t get old, it doesn’t get sick, it doesn’t get fat…” She frowned. “At least I hope it doesn’t.” She looked around. “Does it look like I’ve put on any weight?”

“Your head is swelled, does that count?” Wren responded with a sniff.

Ziedra put hands on broad hips. “No. You don’t have to be grouchy just because I don’t choose the same path as you. I indulged a lot when I was younger, and everybody looked after me. Now, I have a chance to be able to protect others. Is that so bad?”

“Not when you explain it that way. I just think the risk is too big.”

“What risk? You think I’m going to go crazy?”

Wren sighed. “I don’t know. I know one thing for certain, you don’t need that much power to flirt with your husband and make babies—even do magic. Before that body, you could already do some scary stuff.”

“It has nothing to do with need, Wren,” they heard Gaea’s echoing voice say from the entry. “It’s her birthright.”

The green mother had both Senalloy and Azir with her. Both were dressed in the close-fitting Kriar battle raiment. The armor was so light and comfortable after it was configured, it was hard to imagine not wearing it in a situation where you thought there might be combat. Bannor didn’t know where Senalloy acquired her suit, but it wasn’t hard to guess with all the Kriar that came and went here in Kul’Amaron now.

In fact, the Kriar seargas were making regular delivery runs from Homeworld now. Because the immorts ate so much, it became necessary for the Kriar military to start bringing food in through a gate to allay the suspicions of the elf nobles watching the citadel. A few of the mecha who had recently joined the T’Evagduran family as retainers were talked into learning to cook. The resulting meals were quite spectacular because Kriar mecha simply never did anything half way. Gaea had been in heaven. The problem had been prying her away from the dinner table.

Gaea’s jewel-like eyes fixed on him, and her attention went to the band on his arm. “Ah, I thought I had felt a change in you my son. Koass decided to be generous with you after all.”

“You knew about this?”

“Well, let us just say I speculated aloud in the Advocate’s hearing.” She looked back to Azir who seemed to be trying to hide behind her. Being male and having a rather formidable physique, he wasn’t having much success. Wren was glaring at him not saying anything.

Senalloy looked back at him, shrugged and strode into the chamber. She looked around and focused on Bannor. “Is Sarai still upset with you? I would have sworn that would have blown over by now.”

Bannor shrugged. “She swears she wasn’t mad.”

“I wasn’t,” Sarai growled, appearing in the doorway. “I apologize for being short. I guess I didn’t have enough sleep last night.”

She glanced at Azir as she walked past him. The savant of light appeared reticent to enter the room and brace his little sister. Bannor understood the man’s reticence, even if technically he hadn’t done anything wrong. Wren could daunt anybody. It wasn’t just Wren though. All the women were looking at him. It must have been that tirade of Wren’s this morning. Being the only male in the room he felt some sympathy.

Azir seemed to steel himself. He rubbed his arms. “Is it me, or is it cold in here?”

Wren sniffed and looked away.

Her brother rolled his eyes and strode over to the council table and collapsed into one of the chairs. He put his feet up on the table and leaned back with his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. “Damn, from the stares you’d think I was out murdering people or something.”

“We’re fighting a damn war,” Wren growled. “At least you could take it seriously!”

“Sis, what part am I not taking seriously? I’ve had your back in every fight since we started this thing.”

Wren growled. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“I’m doing shifts with everyone else. Are you trying to pick issue with what I do when I’m not fighting?”

“You know I am.”

“Well, I think you should mind your own business. Do I pester you about who you keep company with?”

Bannor came and put a hand on the table. “Ummm, it’s not my business but do either of you think this is the place or time for this discussion?”

Azir waved his hand. “Matter is closed as far as I’m concerned.” He glanced over his shoulder toward Wren. “My sister the guilder wants to judge me? Get real. I don’t care if you can kick my arse.”

Wren scowled at him. “Don’t think I won’t kick your arse. I left the guild.”

He shrugged. “Won’t prove nothing.”

“Children,” Gaea said with a hard tone, the sharpest Bannor had heard yet. “That is enough. Wren, you will cut your brother some slack. Azir, you will exercise a bit more restraint.”

Azir’s chin came down to his chest and his arms and legs dangled loose over the chair. He sighed and mumbled. “Oh, frell me.”

“What did you say?” Gaea snapped, hands on hips.

The man let out a heavy breath and gritted his teeth. “Yes, Mother.”

“Wren?”

“What!?”

Gaea turned on her. “Did you raise your voice to me?”

Wren winced and took a step back.

The green mother sniffed. “Fight when you have something serious to fight about. This jealousy is unbecoming. I expect better from you—no, I expect the best from you. If the responsibility of being leader is too heavy a burden for you, I can always give it to Zee or Bannor.”

Wren straightened like she had been slapped. “Jealousy!?”

Gaea folded her arms and stared at her.

The blonde ascendant’s hands clenched and her jaw worked.

Bannor swallowed, feeling a need to defuse the situation. Wren was mad. The most angry he’d seen her in quite a while. He raised a finger. “Uh—”

She focused her glare on him, eyes narrowing, daring him to say anything.

Sarai put fists on hips. “Oh, stop it. And don’t glare at Gaea for calling it what it is. You’re a fine one to lecture Azir about taking the fight seriously. He’s doing his job. That is what is important. Get your head in the war. You can squabble about dating habits later—much later.”

Azir was leaned back in the chair silently whistling, trying to be casual but Bannor could see the man’s face was red. He sure didn’t want this spectacle.

Wren stared at Sarai. If there was anyone the blonde savant could not stare down, it was his wife-to-be. Wren respected her too much.

She straightened up and folded her arms. “Fine,” she growled. “Let’s do this thing.” Visibly swallowing her emotions she focused back on Gaea. “Where do we go, and what do we do?”

Gaea raised her chin. “I am hoping this will be simple. You enter the same way you did last time. Go through the creation lab to the nexus shaft. There is an access to Starholme’s core at the bottom. There used to be artifices for carrying people up and down but they’re disabled and I have no idea how to make them function. Zee will have to fly you all down.” She drew a breath. “From there my knowledge is fuzzy. I know there is a pressure door with a sixteen part pass phrase on it.”

“Like the one to your audience chamber?” Wren asked.

“Yes,” Gaea confirmed. “The big difference is the door monitor. It will only allow six people through every twelve bells.”

“And why again is the door monitored to six people at a time? Weren’t there like hundreds of first ones?” Daena asked.

“It’s because of the lock-down. Wren tightened the security to keep the Kriar out, and considering our problem with the Daergons, it’s a good thing. Otherwise, you’d have to worry about Baronians inside of Starholme. I only know about the monitor because during the Kriar-eternal war, I locked the security down. When I decided to station the Lokori there as additional security, I remember it took a long time to get them in.”

“And how many went in?” Senalloy asked the obvious question.

Gaea shrugged. “Fifty—maybe sixty.”

“What are you worried about them for? It’s been eons,” Ziedra said. “They must be dead by now. I mean how long could they live in some ‘core’ thing?”

“That core is a complete environment a hundred leagues across with self regenerating stores of food, water, and energy. Before their experiment, many of my firsts lived there.”

“Oh grrreat,” Daena said. “And these things we need, do we know where to find them?”

Gaea blinked. “That is one of the difficulties.”

Wren bumped her fist against her forehead. “We’re supposed to search an area the size of Malan for what—a building? Is it going to be near one of the entrances?”

The green mother shook her head. “I don’t know. I just know that many of the raw materials used to construct the genemar were also used to construct the subpath devices used in my audience chamber. I know those materials were fetched from the core, but I don’t know where in the core. I would have you scavenge the materials from my audience chamber but the most important components must be in their raw magical state. If they were just simple compounds, I would simply have the Kriar create them for me.” Gaea pressed her lips to a line. “The magical properties in a few of these components are extremely strong and quite unique. After I show Ziedra what to look for, she should be able to detect a significant amount of them from close to a league away.”

Wren sighed. “Okay, at least that’s doable. It’s still a lot of hunting but with us flying it won’t be too bad.”

Gaea gestured and a large black cylindrical case appeared in her hands in a flare of magic. She set it on the floor with a thud. “Now, this is important,” she said, gesturing and summoning three more cases and setting them down. “A couple of the magic compounds are extremely volatile. None of you are mortal, but they are still dangerous to you and can have all sorts of nasty effects. Put them in these shielded cases as quickly as possible, and under no circumstances should you let bare skin touch any of these materials. Especially the spirit bender. Being avatared like you are… I have no idea what that might do.”

Gaea held out her hand, and six large blue jewels appeared in her palm. “These are memstones. From these you’ll know exactly what you need to get and how much.” She walked around the circle handing them out.

Bannor accepted his with a furrowed brow. It was a large rounded blue stone with triangular facets. It felt warm. He put it in his belt pouch, he’d ask later what to do with it.

“Since Bannor is going along,” Gaea continued. “I’m hoping the shaladen telepathy will still be in range. Damay will be standing by in case there are problems. She will lead a team consisting of herself, Loric, Euriel, Vanidaar, Idun and Megan.”

“Whoa, that’s a powerful back up team,” Bannor murmured.

“I have some idea of what this team is capable of,” Gaea said. “I honestly think we won’t have to go to the back up, but it’s better to be prepared. Any questions?”

“Uh, Mother?”

“Yes, Bannor.”

“These Lokori? I realize it’s a long shot—what if they are still in there? What do we do?”

“Stay away from them. It is unlikely you will be able to negotiate with them. I put them in there because they are xenophobic in the extreme and viciously territorial. They destroy anything that isn’t like them and they have extraordinary senses.”

“Destroy?” Daena said. “I heard someone mention they were nightmares to the Kriar. How powerful are they?”

Gaea grimaced. “It is not their power, it—” She let out a breath and shook her head. “I—I just wouldn’t try to fight them. They don’t do magic, so they can’t fly. Just stay out of reach and keep away from places where they might jump down on you.”

“You speak as if they are animals,” Wren said. “They’re intelligent, right?”

“They are extremely smart. I had to trick them in there and then give them incentive to stay. If they are there, they think of that place as their own.”

“Guard hounds,” Senalloy said. “Really mean ones.”

Gaea nodded. “Anything else?” When no-one said anything, she looked around. “So, until you know for certain the Lokori aren’t there, assume they are and protect yourselves.”

Azir rolled out of his chair and stood up. He laced his fingers, cracked his knuckles, and sniffed. “I’m ready.”

Daena stared at him. From the expression on her face it was tough to tell whether it was admiration or disdain. Wren was definitely annoyed. Ziedra simply seemed amused. Senalloy was as impervious as ever, little bothered the elder, especially the squabbling of youngsters. Bannor was certain none of it came as any surprise to the silver-haired woman.

“Bannor, please give me regular updates of your progress,” Megan asked. “If you do encounter Lokori, Koass wants to know about it.”

He gave her a salute. “Yes, ma’am.” He turned to Sarai as she came and put her arms around him. She gave him a kiss. <I love you,> she said in his mind. At the same time he felt a surge of warmth all through his body that made his heart race and every nerve in his body quiver.

He coughed. “Whoa.”

An impish expression on her face she wiggled her eyebrows at him, violet eyes gleaming. “Shaladen kiss. Like it?”

“Uh,” he felt his ears burn. He grinned. “Yeah.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Be careful and come back soon. I’ll show you more.”

Damn. It really must be the baby making her moody. Less than a bell ago he was a ‘lout’ for leaving her to go on Gaea’s mission. He rubbed her tummy. “One more reason to come back.”

“Sarai, not that you really need it,” Senalloy said. “My sister Luthice will be checking in with you and your sisters if I’m gone longer than expected. She’ll take my place until I get back.”

“Is she as qualified as you?” Sarai asked with an arch expression.

“She’s three times as sneaky, twice as mean, and plays half a dozen musical instruments to boot.”

Sarai sighed. “A glowing endorsement if ever I heard one.” She looked around. “Aren’t Corim or Dulcere going to see you off?”

Senalloy shrugged. “Corim has wished me well with telepathy.”

His wife-to-be put fists on hips. “As attentive as you are to him, the least he could do is show up in person.”

“He’s afraid of her,” Daena said, tilting her head to one side. “You know, even Kell chided him for being on the fence.”

Senalloy was smiling permissively, then her brow furrowed. “What?”

“Yeah, while Kell was kicking our arses, he was raving all sorts of strange stuff,” Daena told her. “He said to Corim to get off the fence and that ‘you can love them both’, then zapped him with his own shaladen.”

The Baronian woman’s eyes narrowed. “Interesting.” She let out a breath. “Well, we need to focus on the mission now.” She looked to Ziedra. “Thinking of send offs, where’s your husband, Zee?”

Ziedra smiled. “I got a fine send-off in private before we came. Telepathy is a wonderful thing—just like being there.” She glided to the middle of the council-room floor overtop the T’Evagduran crest engraved in the stone floor. “I’ll bring the boxes.” She pulled a tiny looking pouch off her side, and landed by Gaea’s containers. She stretched the mouth of the little bag in her hands and pulled it over one of the cases which was several times too big to fit in something barely twice the size of a man’s fist. With a thump of inrushing air the bag engulfed the box. Bannor blinked. Ziedra repeated the process three more times and fastened the bag back on her belt and straightened up. “So, Sen, who’s doing transport, you or me?”

The elder walked out onto the middle of seal. “How many teleports have you done?”

“A handful, Rad has that warp thing, so I don’t need to do it often.”

Senalloy shook her head. “I’ll do it.”

Daena skipped out to join them. “I can do it.”

The elder brushed back her silver hair and put hands on hips. “Not a chance. No way am I putting my microstructure in the hands of a teenage first one.”

The auburn haired girl snorted. “Janai trusts me.”

“She can go right on trusting you,” Senalloy responded with a frown. “She doesn’t have a dozen layers of protective magic that can cut loose if you miscalculate a reassembly vector.”

“A reassembly vector? What’s that?”

Senalloy rolled her violet eyes. “The reason I’ll handle transport. Wren, just go anywhere you can use that gate key, right?”

The blonde savant nodded as she stepped onto the seal.

Azir stepped up and stood by Daena.

Bannor gave Sarai a last kiss goodbye. “I’ll be as careful as I can.”

She gave his arm a squeeze as he stepped away onto the seal.

Megan pressed her hands together and raised her rainbow wings. “Good journey, and may your deeds be glorious.” She nodded to them.

Gaea looked around at them, meeting each of their eyes. “Take care my children. I look forward to the day I can actually take such an adventure with you.”

Bannor focused back on his wife-to-be. Gazing into her eyes as Wren gave Senalloy the go-ahead.

The Baronian warmage raised her hand and said a single powerful word that seemed to make the room shudder and resonate. She swung her arm around and the air around them began to hiss and blow, sparking and rasping. The light around them grew in intensity until the room was blotted out entirely and Bannor felt a sharp falling sensation.

Sarai’s presence seemed to jump a universe away from him. The surroundings flared into being around them. They stood on a barren rock outcrop beneath a brilliant night sky. A giant pinwheel of light dominated the deep indigo sky. A sprinkling of stars shone like brilliant jewels in the arc of the heavens. The acrid smell of dry plants hung thick in the air. A warm breeze hummed through clefts in the boulders around them. Wherever they were, it was not the world of Titaan.

Sarai still seemed close, like she was still in the same chamber. He felt her in his mind. He reached out to her, sharing the majestic scene overhead. He felt her smile in his mind, pleasuring in the spectacular image.

“Whoa,” Daena breathed. “Talk about scenic!”

“I come here to think,” Senalloy said. “I know this place well.”

“I can see why,” Ziedra said, marveling.

“Hmmm,” Azir murmured, smiling and nodding to himself as he looked up.

No question in Bannor’s mind what the other man was thinking. He didn’t need the shaladen to read his mind. If ever there was a place that would put a woman in a good mood, this would have to be one of them.

Wren took only a few moments to admire the scenery before beginning to summon the phoenix to open Starholme. No doubt she was concerned that they would be detected outside of Kul’Amaron and wanted to hurry.

In the few moments it took her to conjure the massive creature of flame, nothing bothered them. She gave the pass phrase to the living inferno and the way was opened to them.

A few steps and a jump deposited them in the same corridor where they had been less than a tenday ago. As the gateway crackled shut behind them, Wren let out a sigh, obviously relieved that nothing had attacked them.

She let out a breath. “Let’s get this over with,” she headed forward. “Same as last time, stay close together. You especially Sen, stay close to one of the savants.”

Senalloy looked around. “This is it? It doesn’t look like much.”

Ziedra laughed. “Give it time, you’ll be impressed.”

Retracing their footsteps didn’t take long. As they entered the complex itself, Senalloy started making more appreciative noises. After only a short time they were back in the creation lab where they first met Hyperion. Wren didn’t hesitate after opening the door but headed directly across the spongy floor to the stairs.

They all trailed after her and out onto the platform looking into the nexus shaft.

“Frellll…” Senalloy murmured, looking up at the massive column of magic and the seemingly infinite expanse rising above and dropping below.

“I can tell by the tone of your voice you’re a little more impressed,” Ziedra said.

The Baronian walked a short way out onto the bridge running her hand along the purplish metal rail and craning her neck to look up. The icy air traveling up the shaft made her hair dance and sway. She looked back to them. “That’s some serious magic.”

Bannor walked out next to her, sniffing the pure ‘after a storm’ air whistling up from the pit. His gaze traveled to the massive crystalline dome and the lattice of conduits carrying streamers of energy throughout the colossal structure. In his mind, he felt Sarai and the other Shael Dal marveling with him. He had already seen it once before, but something so titanic awed no less on the second viewing.

“Okay, Zee, can you do some flying stuff please,” Wren asked.

“You got it, Boss girlfriend,” Ziedra answered with a grin. She closed her eyes and then touched Wren on the forehead.

A gold diamond of brightly glowing magic appeared on Wren’s skin. With a whirl of mist and a puff of warm air she rose off the platform, hazy contrails spiraling around her limbs.

Daena clapped her hands. “I love this part. The flying you do is so wizard, Zee!”

The ascendant of magic smiled. “Glad you enjoy it so much.” She touched Daena, imparting the flight magic to the auburn-haired first one.

She turned to Azir and repeated the process.

Ziedra focused on Bannor. “I notice you don’t flinch now when I cast on you.”

“It just took me a while to get acquainted, Sister. I trust you.”

She smiled. “You’ve gotten over your fear of flying too.”

He pressed his lips to a line. “Only when you do it.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment then,” she told him with a grin. She closed her eyes and concentrated. After a moment she touched him on the bridge of his nose. A warm rush went through his body, causing his heart to speed and his breath to catch. A rippling went through his flesh and a tingle pressed outward along the surface of his skin.

With a humming and puff of warm air he too rose up off the platform, hands and feet illuminated in misty distortions.

Ziedra stepped over to Senalloy. “Yay or nay? I know you can probably do it yourself.”

“I can,” Senalloy agreed. “Looking at it, I think I like yours better though. Maybe you’ll teach it to me?”

The ascendant of magic raised an eyebrow. “Maybe.” She gathered her energies and placed a flight sigil on Senalloy as well.

The Baronian rose into the air. She did a slow turn then an acrobatic flip while rising higher into the air above the seemingly endless pit. “Oh yes, far superior. I’m guessing a bribe for this spell may be in order.”

“Oh, now we’re talking,” Ziedra said.

“All right,” Wren said to her floating team. “I guess we fly to the bottom. I have no idea how far down this goes. There’s so much magic in this place, and we have no idea how it may affect Ziedra’s enchantments, so my advice is stay close to the walls.” She looked to her brother. “Can we count on you for a little light?”

Azir shrugged. He raised his hand and a bluish sphere of illumination appeared in the air at the tips of his fingers. The ball remained where he placed it, bobbing up and down like a shimmering bubble of brightly glowing water. He created three more balls of light. Bannor noticed they moved where he directed them as if they were suspended on strings.

Wren rose a little higher and drifted over to look down into the pit. Ziedra floated over with her. “That is one deep hole.”

He glided over to gaze down with them. It seemed to go down forever. Periodically, dim lights flickered in the distance and alien artifices hummed and crackled. It was hard to even imagine the kind of power it had taken to build such a thing. As far as they understood, the first ones did not have creation artifices like the Kriar, this thing had been built by hand and with magic.

Wren drew a breath then dove off the platform. Swallowing, he followed. Seeing the others plunge in behind him. The air rushing up the shaft made it seem like they were dropping faster than they were. It was impossible to shake the sense of falling and he had to fight down the urge to panic. His heart hummed in his chest and he took air in gasps.

Apparently, plunging straight down the shaft unnerved Wren as well, because she tacked back and forth down the vertical face. As she became more confident in the eddies and gusts swirling in the giant space, she increased their speed and started following the wall in a spiral course as they dropped.

The creation lab platform was soon gone, lost in the shadows high above them. They passed level after level of artifices churning and humming with magic. What did it all do?

The trip down was roughly a quarter bell old when Daena yelled.

“Hold up!”

Wren paused and looked back.

Bannor pivoted in the air to see Daena illuminated in the light from one of Azir’s glow-spheres.

“Look over there,” Daena pointed. “I think we know why the up/down thing isn’t working anymore.”

He peered in the direction she indicated. In the poor light of the shaft, there appeared to be a large dent in the metallic surface.

The light briefly illuminated Wren’s puzzled face as she leaned toward the location and drifted toward it. Even flying at a good clip, the far side of the shaft took over thirty beats to reach. He didn’t know how Daena had even spotted the irregularity in the fluctuating light caused by the energy flowing through the conduits.

As the group closed with the wall, Azir’s globes lit up the area.

Bannor swallowed. “Damn.”

A tear the size of a barn had been opened in the side of the shaft. It was obviously not caused by a ground-quake or something natural. Blast marks marred the surface and in many places the metal looked melted.

Senalloy drifted into the gap. She looked tiny compared to the ancient scar surrounding her. She gestured and a brilliant shaft of light appeared in her hand. The silver-haired woman peered up. “Yes,” she reported. “This is why the lift stopped working. It cuts the housing for the car right in half. It’s hard to tell, but the lift itself may have been hit when this was struck.”

“Frell,” Ziedra said. “That’s a major hit.”

Azir leaned into the hole, sending his globes in to light up the mangled and twisted remains. The damage went back into the wall some ten paces. The square shaft that must have served as the rails for the lift were clearly visible in the floor and ceiling of the blast area. “I wonder if all sixteen shafts were crippled the same way.”

“It’s a safe gamble they were,” Wren said, hovering with folded arms. “Why was this done?”

“Maybe to keep whatever is in the core from getting out,” Bannor offered. “Gaea said the Lokori don’t have magic. You’d just about need to fly to get up this shaft.”

“Then, Gaea did it?” Daena said. “Still, that’s a mighty big hole. I don’t think any of us could do that.”

“I sure couldn’t,” Ziedra said. “Why wouldn’t she tell us about something like this?”

“Why wouldn’t she tell us a lot of things?” Wren murmured. “She has more than her share of secrets. Let’s move on. Speculating is just wasting time.” She leaned backward and swooped down into the darkness.

Ziedra did a slow roll as she dove to catch up. Daena and Azir dropped past him to stay with the others. Senalloy continued to stare, violet eyes narrowed in thought. She looked down the shaft after the others. She floated out toward him and they pursued the dwindling spark of Azir’s light.

“I don’t think Gaea had enough power to make such an attack,” Senalloy murmured. “The problem is, I don’t know what does—not against material that tough. It would have to be an artifice or a creature like we’ve never seen…” Her voice trailed off. She stroked ahead, increasing her speed to catch up with the others.

A cold chill went through him as he willed himself faster in her wake. That event took place eons ago. It couldn’t possibly have any bearing on anything happening today, could it?

It took another half bell of constant descent before the shaft opened into a recognizable bottom. He looked up the way they had come. A rough guess was they were at least ten leagues down. In an area that must be a league across, the floor was a churning sea of some viscous metallic substance that looked like quicksilver. Overhead millions of glowing crystalline projections hung down like the roots of a tree. Raw magic crackled and leaped from peak to peak in the turbulent sea. A caustic stench filled the air making the eyes water and the skin itch.

“A lake of incantralyte,” Ziedra murmured.

“It’s like a gigantic magic sump,” Senalloy said.

“What’s it do?” Azir asked.

“I’m guessing it’s a giant magic reclamation engine. Any free magic wasted above eventually seeps down the walls into this pit. Those nodes up there,” she pointed to the root-like structures above them. “Probably recollect and purify it.”

“I’m certain the engineering is fascinating,” Wren said. “I’m more interested in this door we need to find. Shouldn’t it be somewhere directly under that lift shaft?”

“Could that be a walkway over there?” Daena pointed to a metallic blister hanging down from the ceiling some hundred paces across. It sat adjacent the base of the nexus shaft and close enough to the lift that they might be connected. “See that, it looks like some railing there on the side facing away from us.”

“Good eye. Let’s check it out,” Wren stretched out and hissed off in that direction.

In a few instants, it was clear that Daena’s sharp eyes had found some kind of platform similar to the one they had stood on outside the creation lab. The door opening onto the platform was built like it was designed to resist having moons lobbed at it. The six toggles locking the valve each had to be more than a pace across, and probably weighed more than twenty tons.

“ ‘Giant’ seems to be the only size these folks know,” Azir said, shaking his head.

Wren raised her hand and pointed at the surface. The device glowed red. A white line traced around the mammoth portal. Eons old artifices chugged and hissed as the monstrous tenons scraped from their receivers to free the hatch.

“I’m guessing they didn’t need to open or close this thing in a hurry,” Daena said as they waited for the slow grinding of the paces thick wall of metal to make a gap large enough for them to slip through.

“It wouldn’t be used often,” Senalloy said, looking around the platform. “This whole area would be an inferno of pure magic if the installation’s power were being used in any capacity.”

The seal on the door finally broke, and air gusted from the opening, carrying with it a torrent of gray particles. Coughing and choking everyone reeled back from the caustic smelling residue.

“Gah!” Daena coughed waving her hand, trying to dispel the cloud swirling around them. “What is it?”

“Ash,” Wren said, covering her mouth and nose.

They waited for the cloud to subside. Azir shone a light inside. Beyond the doorway, the floor looked like a gray desert, completely caked in masses of charcoal-tinted grit.

“Interesting,” Senalloy said. She squeezed through the opening making sure not to disturb the substance. She stretched out a hand and pressed her fingers into the substance and pulled out a chunk of something black.

Bannor’s stomach twisted. He had a suspicion what it was the Baronian had found.

The silver-haired mage looked at it for a few instants, turning it over in her gloved hand, she drifted back out of the opening and handed it to Wren. “Like I thought.”

Wren looked at the charred hunk. “This isn’t bone is it?”

“That’s exactly what it is,” Senalloy said with a flat expression.

“Bleah.” Wren dropped it. “Is that whole chamber…???”

“I think so.”

“Oh gack,” Ziedra said, wrinkling her nose.

“That would be a lot of people,” Azir noted. “It can’t all be remains.”

“Okay, move slow, don’t stir that dren up,” the blonde savant said, floating through the crack as the door continued to grind open. “I don’t know if our bodies are immune to tomb sickness.”

“Tomb sickness?” Bannor wondered aloud.

“Lung rot,” Azir translated. “You don’t wanna know and you sure as hades don’t want to find out.”

The six of them floated gingerly over the piles of ash that had formed drifts all down the stairwell. The smell of ancient decay was overpowering. Bannor covered his face and breathed shallow to inhale as little of the stench as possible. When everyone was in, Wren aborted the door’s slow creak, ordering it to close behind them.

She then led the way up the stairs and through a mangled path of destruction. Ancient first one artifices were ripped apart and sundered. The devastation seemed random, some areas were untouched, and others even the metal had been ground down to dust by what must have been enormous force.

<Somebody lost in a big way,> Daena thought to the group obviously to avoid breathing in any of the awful smell. <Suppose this was fighting between the alphas and betas?>

<Hard to say,> Wren returned, her thoughts sounding tense and strained. She too was obviously trying to avoid breathing in any of the foul air. <If they were alphas, they were way more powerful than us. It was definitely two groups though.>

Navigating through the destroyed complex Bannor felt an icy sadness seize his chest; so much violence—so much death. Was that the legacy of his ancient forebears?

The ashen smell finally retreated behind them, making it possible to breathe normally again. The air still smelled stale, and reeked of melted metal and burned things. It was amazing to him that there was anything left to even make an odor after all the millennia that had passed.

Up another flight of stairs and through an archway they found what must be the obliterated lobby. This is where they would have come out had the lift been working. The doors that sealed the rail tunnel were bowed outward, probably distorted by the concussion that had ripped the nexus shaft wall apart. Scorch marks darkened the frame and floor where super-heated air had escaped through gaps in the mechanism. The blackened metal had secondary scoring that resembled claw marks, like something had tried to pry them open from the outside after the blast.

“We’re in the right spot now it appears,” Ziedra said.

Wren put hands on hips. Something was obviously bothering her. He didn’t blame her. There was something about the aftermath that didn’t fit their picture of when and how the first ones became extinct.

The destruction down in the lower chamber looked more like the damage that would have been done when fully powered first ones did battle with one another. Wren had mentioned that the first ones had fought each other at times. Just when they seemed to think they understood the history of this place, new evidence muddied the picture. They might never really know what had actually occurred.

Determining the path to the core gave them no difficulty. Archways some ten paces high showed the way. The filigreed and decorated metallic supports formed a broad-way with room for a dozen carriages to roll side by side. Of all the places they had been in Starholme, this was the first place where they had seen any ornamentation.

A lot of the decorations were bas reliefs of male and female faces.

“Oh, now there’s something to make you stop and ponder,” Senalloy said. She had moved ahead down the passage but was looking back.

Daena moved over beside her and looked up. The girl sucked a breath and covered her face in her hands.

“What is it?” Ziedra floated over and looked at what they were seeing. Her jaw dropped.

He drifted over to see what they were making moon eyes at.

On the opposite side of the arch was a carving of a male and female face, set close to one another in a romantic pose with the man looking down into the woman’s eyes. It was exquisitely detailed and realistic.

He blinked.

“That’s me,” he said.

“And me,” Daena murmured. “Was she—was I in love with him even then?”

Wren sniffed. “It would appear your taos have been getting each other in trouble for eons.” She gestured. “There he is again with another girl.”

Bannor turned. She was right. There was another image of him in a similar position with a different woman.

“It looks like you, Zee,” Azir remarked. “I guess back in the old days you got around too.”

The ascendant of magic frowned at him. “Very funny.”

The group of them glided along the curving gallery all of them fascinated by the first strong evidence that tied them all to these long deceased creatures. There were frescos made into the walls depicting the births and deaths of stars. He noted there were also what looked to be paintings depicting strange landscapes, often forbidding but starkly beautiful in their color and scale.

Azir passed a wall section, stopped, and abruptly hovered back. “Oh, this is a great one! Check this out.” He pointed to the relief in front of him.

Bannor floated over to see. It was an image of Wren and Ziedra together in a romantic pose.

The blonde savant caught sight of what they were looking at and flushed scarlet.

“Oh, that’s sweet,” Senalloy said, coming into viewing range.

He felt his own cheeks warm a little knowing that it would be embarrassing for Wren. He looked and noticed she was no longer floating where she had been. “Wren?”

Ziedra looked at the carving and smiled. “Some things just feel right.”

They found Wren at the end of the gallery hovering in front of the massive valve that must serve as the entry into the core. She didn’t look back at any one.

The huge gate was easily fifty paces across and some ten high. It didn’t have the horrendous reinforced locks that they had seen in other places.

Wren raised her hand and focused on the door.

After a moment, there was a boom that shook the corridor. Dust around the ceiled gate puffed into eddies. Unseen tenons retracted with a scrape of ancient metal on metal and clanked as they hit their stops. A chugging in the walls made the structure shake as the slab of metal rumbled upward.

Securing toggles a pace long and wide retracted from the floor as the monolithic construction retracted, making the opening appear to be the toothy maw of some gigantic beast. Wren flitted under the rising door. Bannor followed not wanting to leave her alone when they were so close to the core.

Beyond the door was a featureless segment of corridor fifty paces long that ended in another gate identical to the one they had just opened.

“Oh,” Wren murmured to herself. “Now I see how the monitoring works.” She glanced at him. Her face was still a little red. “Most likely the inner door won’t open unless the outer one is closed. With the security on, the outer one won’t close with more than six in here.”

The rest of the group gathered behind her. Wren snatched a peek at Ziedra, then focused ahead on the inner door. Ziedra grinned at Wren’s back. The lady mage derived tremendous pleasure from teasing the blonde savant.

They had to be patient while Wren ordered the outer door closed, and once sealed, began to unlock the inner door.

“Wait,” Senalloy said, putting a hand on Wren’s shoulder. “Zee, Daena, Azir, defenses up.”

Ziedra spun through the cadences of several spells covering herself and the rest of them in layers of magic. To Bannor, it felt like a coating of thin gossamer silk covering his skin. Daena spread her arms and a thrumming rumbled through the floor radiating outward from her. Shadows seemed to spin from her hands making the metal in his armor vibrate. A dull golden light surrounded Azir’s limbs as he focused. Last, Senalloy cast some additional layers of magic which became like a collar of sparkles orbiting his throat, wrists and ankles.

At their nod, everyone was ready, Wren again focused to trigger the open sequence.

The grating of tenons retracting sounded from the inner door, and it unsealed with a low thrum. The air that rushed under the gap smelled of vegetation, and a metallic odor Bannor associated with waterfalls and fast running streams.

Rays of red light spread into the waiting chamber as the door opened. The distant but distinct cry of a talon-feather tickled Bannor’s hearing. Closer by, insects hummed and birds chirped. Water gurgled someplace close by.

A breeze swirled dust around their ankles.

Wren peeked left and right and moved slowly under the still rising gate. Bannor stayed with her and gazed out at a truly bewildering vista.

It was like stepping onto the surface of a world. For all he knew, with the powers of the first ones, that’s what they were doing. The sky burned a dull crimson color. Clouds shaded the color of blood and bruises crawled slowly across the dome of the sky.

The doorway itself seemed to open out onto a mountainside covered with lush vegetation. Enormous trees with bark thicker than his leg and covered with moss stretched their stumpy limbs far above their heads. A fair-sized stream frothed down over rocks and wound a twisty course through boulders into a bramble-choked canyon below them.

Tall mountains rose like sharp teeth off to their right, the angle of the precipices only slightly off vertical. Below them the land dropped away into hills and further away became plains and forests. About three leagues away, what looked like a lake gleamed like burnished gold in the russet light.

“If I was first one, where would I put my magical supplies?”

“Frell, it’s a whole damn world,” Azir said. “It could be anywhere.”

“World or not, we have to search it. So, perhaps you can do something besides state the obvious.”

“The lake,” Senalloy said.

“The lake,” Daena said.

Ziedra nodded. “Lake.”

Bannor rubbed the back of his neck. It made sense to him too. “Lake.”

Wren glanced at her brother. “The lakes have it.” She glanced around their surroundings. “Let’s just hope we’ll be left alone to enjoy the scenery…”

Return to Contents

Chapter Twelve

Sometimes being powerful just isn’t
enough.
—Liandra “Wren” Kergatha,
2nd Princess of Cosmodarus

Senses sharp for the slightest hint of a threat, Bannor glided through the trees. There were so many animals that his heart already ached from surprises. An army could move undetected in the dense undergrowth. The titanic trees screened the light and created a maze of shadows that made anything beyond basic recognition impossible. The old-growth forests on the Moonshae peninsula in southeast Corwin were like this, the vast shadows and tranquil air that smelled of loam and tree sap. Some of the elder crimson-barks he saw there rivaled the height of the ones in this place though they were not as broad. He remembered bringing back some of the seed-cones and putting them on the mantel in his cabin; they had been nearly as long as his arm.

Tension rippled through the group as everyone wound down the mountain through a forest of titans.

“Don’t go where something might jump down on you she says,” Azir grumbled. “The damn trees grow almost to the roof. I swear Gaea is like the queen of the ironic admonishments.”

“More flying, less whining,” Wren growled. “We don’t want to fly high anyway. Red sky, black suits, we might as well scream ‘here we are’.”

“Wonder if it gets dark?” Ziedra said, gazing around. “That would be the best time.”

<All that talking is a bigger announcement of your location, hush would you?> Senalloy broadcast telepathically.

<The forces in here are weird,> Daena thought. <I don’t know what my powers are going to do if I try anything big.>

<Magic is crazy too,> Ziedra added. <It’s insanely strong for one thing—not that it’s much of a surprise with this place sitting on the biggest magic generator in the universe.> She blew out her cheeks which were flush. <It’s making me dizzy.>

<You won’t have a problems will you?> Wren asked.

<You mean besides the fly spells letting you go so fast you burn up or ordinary fireballs that incinerate small towns.> She shrugged. <No problem.>

<Well,> Bannor interjected. <From a tracker’s standpoint, the good news is that I haven’t seen anything to indicate any inhabitants besides animals. The bad news is that the growth is so thick that a rhinotaur could be running around down there and we wouldn’t see it.>

They continued to float down the mountainside. Ziedra was right about the magic being strong. He felt it in her flight sigil. The slightest urging had him shooting forward like an arrow.

The group needed to duck down to go below the high reaching boughs of several closely spaced forest titans. As he dipped closer to the ground he caught a whiff of something foul. He looked around for evidence of what his nose picked up.

<Hold up a moment,> he asked. The rest of the group already pulling away from him paused and hovered.

Dropping to some of the scrub trees he pushed some branches aside and peered around. There was something else… a sound.

<What is it?> Wren asked.

<Just a feeling,> he answered. Stomach tightening he dropped down to ground level and followed the droning-noise coming from near the base of one of the trees.

<Bannor, be careful,> Daena cautioned.

As he drew closer, the sound resolved into a swarm of insects. The smell became obvious as well—carrion. Laying in a small clearing was the stripped carcass of an animal—a big one. <Found it.>

The skeletal remains lay collapsed in the middle of the patch of coagulated blood and brown needles. From the hip and shoulder joint it had been something that moved on four clawed feet. It had died less than a day ago, what little meat remained hadn’t yet even turned black. The strange thing, he saw no other tracks besides those made by the creature itself. Aside from an unusual curve in its back, he found no evidence of what killed it. The forest floor, covered in a thick layer of needle-leaves, showed little sign of disturbance, certainly not enough for the kind of pitched mêlée such a beast would cause if confronted.

Senalloy dropped down through the foliage on his location. The silver haired woman frowned. <That’s a big kill,> she said. <What do you think it was?>

<Broadpaw, or something similar, a big one too, probably a hundred, maybe two hundred stone.> He shook his head. <I don’t like this.>

Daena swooped in from another direction. She grimaced, green eyes narrowing. <Yuck,> she murmured. <An old broadpaw keeled over in the forest, why is that alarming?>

<It’s out in the open. Predators that are sick or old tend to conceal themselves. There aren’t many things that can bring down a broadpaw—not one this big. One thing is certain, none of them would be stealthy about it. If it had lost a territorial fight, the area would be marked by the winner.> He scanned around again. <There’s nothing like that around here.>

<We haven’t seen many carrion creatures,> Senalloy said. <Could something this big get stripped that fast?>

His brow furrowed. He dropped down and poked around the bed of needles and dirt. <There’s evidence of a smaller creatures, but not a lot of them. Not enough to clean it to this extent in less than a day.> He touched the band on his arm and willed the shaladen into sword form. In a flare of sparks and a rasp of magic, the weapon stretched into a long two edged blade gleaming in the forest shadows. He waved away the buzzing swarm and poked at the skeletal remains.

His jaw dropped and his stomach tightened as three of the large vertebrae of the thing’s spine tipped away and hung by tendons. The bones didn’t look deformed or cracked, they had been severed clean. “Whoa,” he let out.

<I don’t get it,> Azir thought, frowning down on him from above.

<Rules out dying of old age I guess,> Ziedra said.

<Huh?> Daena frowned.

<Its spine was severed,> Senalloy told her. <That’s what killed it. Another animal couldn’t do that.> She landed by Bannor and peered around. <It doesn’t look like it was done with a sword or axe either.>

<No. I don’t know what could do this.> He poked the bones. <This is a clean cut—through bone.>

<So, at the very least, there’s a mean critter hereabouts that kills broadpaws,> Wren said, hands on hips. <I know next to nothing about tracking. If this thing was in a fight, shouldn’t the area be more torn up?>

<It should,> Bannor said. <The way this cut looks, it probably died in a single stroke.> He narrowed his eyes. Bone that thick was almost like armor plate. Even with a magically sharp blade he didn’t think he could slice through living bone that thick, not with all the surrounding musculature and a fist’s thickness of hairy hide dissipating the energy of the attack. The blade that killed this creature would have to be unimaginably sharp or urged with amazing strength.

<Well, it’s clear we aren’t going to solve this mystery,> Wren said. <So let’s get off the ground in case whatever did it is still hanging around.>

Bannor nodded and rose into the air on a humming column of mist.

Wren led the way. He trailed after. He willed the shaladen back into a band on his wrist. He kept the others in sight but moved at a more gradual pace, he glanced back over his shoulder.

Senalloy looped back to cruise in the air next to him. The silver-haired Baronian studied him with violet eyes. She smiled. <I keep waiting for you to blurt out what you think.>

He frowned and glanced back through the trees even though the kill site was long out of view. <I’m wise enough not to shoot off my mouth without evidence.>

<And it’s the evidence bothering you.>

He sighed and rubbed his forehead.

They weaved around a knot of trees and dropped into a trough between two ridges. The forest of giants gave way to more normal-sized trees another thousand or so paces down the hill. <You know just this environment is amazing. It’s all underground but it feels like we’re on the surface.>

<It’s some powerful magic, yes,> Senalloy agreed. <A bigger question in my mind is ‘why?’. Why did they choose to live in here when they could live on the surface of any of millions of worlds?>

<I figure they built it as a convenient place to live while they were constructing that huge installation above.>

<I would agree with you, but they could probably teleport as easily as we do. Here or half a universe away is almost the same, unless they couldn’t come and go freely. Either it was inconvenient to come and go because of security, or they didn’t feel safe on other worlds. The universe was next to empty at that time, so what were they protecting themselves from?>

As he flew along he shook his head. He glanced to the rocky terrain and vegetation passing below them. The woman asked hard questions, not that she expected him to know the answer.

Senalloy rolled onto her back and dropped a little below him. <So, what do you think killed the broad-paw? Hmmm?>

<Something scary,> he frowned at her. <You’re not going to make me say it. If you want to say it—go ahead.>

She rolled her violet eyes. <You’re no fun.>

He kept his eyes on the terrain. <Aren’t you the least bit scared?>

<Of what?>

<What if it really is…???>

She raised an eyebrow. <Oh, so you do think that’s what it was.>

<What else could it be?>

<Could be a lot of things,> Senalloy said with a shrug. <I could do it: fly spell, some strength enhancement and stealth… I could kill that animal with one swing.>

He sniffed. <You’re pretty scary yourself.>

She grinned. <Thank you, I try to be.> She rolled over in the air and drifted up so she was flying beside him again.

<Still don’t understand why you wouldn’t be a little concerned if this just happened to be one of the creatures that were killing Kriar.>

Senalloy drew close until her shoulder was touching his. <Bannor, I’m one of the creatures that were killing Kriar. Remember?>

He stared at the landscape as they cruised down the hills over the smaller trees. That lake was still a fair distance off. Wren was focused on the terrain ahead of them. Her body was stiff like she expected trouble. Daena, Ziedra, and Azir, though they used different body language to express it, all seemed equally concerned. Senalloy appeared to be the only one who wasn’t worried.

As he looked at the woman, he had to admire her confidence, not just in this matter, but in nearly everything. He guessed that was the benefit of living to be that old.

<So, because you’re a predator, that makes you immune I suppose?>

She shook her head. <It’s nothing as facile as that. If I die, it was my time. Worrying accomplishes nothing. I’m here because I like your family. You looked at me one time and accepted me. It feels good to be trusted, to be looked up to.>

<Doesn’t Corim trust and look up to you?>

She sighed. <He’s so reserved—he’s afraid to like me because of Dulcere. It is frustrating.>

<He’s missing out. If I hadn’t met Sarai first, I’d tell him to take a seat. I think I would have played for your—affection…> His voice trailed off as he said it. Something dug at the back of his head. Why did saying that make him think of the mystery of Kell?

Senalloy’s eyes widened and her face colored. <Really now? Even though you find me scary?>

He laughed. <You learn to live with fear. Have Kalindinai for a mother-in-law and you have an intimate relationship with terror.> He paused. What if in some other time and place he had fallen in love with Senalloy? It really wasn’t that hard to imagine. In the ancient past, his tao had been intertwined with both Daena and Ziedra.

<Well, you should be careful thinking things like that,> Senalloy admonished. <Sarai will kick your arse.>

<Yes. Sometimes, you can’t help but consider the what-ifs and how things might have been different.>

<Indeed.>

The last of the mountain forest dropped away beneath them. Wren followed a gleaming thread of water heading through the foothills toward the lake.

He found it odd that if the first ones had occupied this place, why weren’t there signs of habitation—even ancient ones? Had so much time passed that they had all disintegrated? That didn’t make sense given the artifices of Starholme had survived for eons without a blemish.

Wren sped up. She obviously felt that with no ready cover they might as well just cover the distance as fast as possible. Soon they were shooting through hills at a speed that rivaled a bowshot.

<Oh now we’re talking,> Senalloy laughed. She spread her arms and did a roll as they streaked down through the shallow valleys and grassy rises. Bannor kept up, he wasn’t fond of flying, but against his wishes he was getting more proficient in maneuvering.

From the way she swept through the turns Wren appeared to have trained to fly. Ziedra, the one who had granted them the gift of flight seemed almost bored. These maneuvers, as perilous as they seemed, were apparently of no moment to her. She stayed at Wren’s shoulder, shifting above and behind as the needs of the terrain dictated.

Daena loved the flying, the faster the better it seemed, her youthful face was lit up in an open display of fierce glee as she ducked and weaved through the obstacles in their path.

Wren’s brother was no flier, he followed his sister with gritted teeth, eyes riveted on the environment ahead. No doubt with the recently strained relations he felt reticent to complain about what was going on.

At such speed, they were out of the hills in a matter of a few long breaths. Over the flats, Wren leaned into even more speed, taking them over the landscape so fast the air was a roar in his ears.

The six of them shot out over the lake, kicking up wakes as they shrieked across the tranquil surface. When they were near the middle Wren pulled up and hovered. She looked down, frowned and judiciously rose until she was a good ten paces above the blood-colored ripples.

<Place is empty,> Daena murmured the thought. <Didn’t see a whit on the way over.>

<Not like we could,> Azir grumbled. <Flying at that insane speed.>

Arms folded, Wren frowned over at her brother. <Grow some stones, it wasn’t that fast.>

<I got stones, Sis,> he remarked. <Maybe you’re trying to prove you got a pair too?>

<You two better stop this before I smack you both!> Ziedra growled, hands on hips.

Azir frowned at the dark-haired savant. <And who are you, my mother?>

<Az, don’t start with me. Just shape up, otherwise you are both going to find yourselves on foot a really long way from home. Get me?>

They both glared at her.

<When you two are done frowning at me, there’s a strong concentration of magic over that way.> She pointed to what looked like a cluster of boulders on the shore.

Ziedra’s declaration seemed to focus Wren. She turned and looked where the mage had indicated. <Okay, go slow. Stay well above the water, until we get a handle of what lives around here, assume everything has teeth.> She made a coming gesture and wafted toward the shore.

As they started in that direction Bannor focused a thought for Ziedra only. <Zee, drop back here for a moment.>

The mage pulled up and circled around to him as the others drifted along after Wren. The woman’s brow furrowed as her dark eyes met his. She obviously knew something was up because she narrowed the thought down to him alone. <What’s up, Bannor?>

<Wren,> he said. He studied the blonde ascendant as they eased toward the rocks. She was being really cautious all of a sudden. Perhaps she felt the same strangeness in the air that he did. They were still a ways from the site so he had a few moments to broach this with Ziedra. <Have you ever seen Wren act erratic like this?>

Ziedra grimaced. <No, but I’ve never seen her under this much pressure either.>

<I just want her to be okay,> he told her. The shore was close now. Wren gestured for the group to spread out. <I can run things if she wants.>

Ziedra touched his shoulder. <Thanks for caring about her. Let’s just keep an eye on her for the time being, okay?>

He nodded.

Ziedra sped up and went in the direction the blonde savant indicated.

Senalloy pulled close and leaned in with a raised eyebrow.

<What?>

<Leading is the last thing you want to do, why did you offer?>

<You heard that!?>

<You need more practice doing private telepathy,> she told him with a smile. <If we get in trouble, let me take charge, okay? I prefer to relax and let others lead but I don’t want anyone dying because I was lazy.>

<Okay, I’ll back you,> he said. <Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.>

The whole area made Bannor nervous, although there was no specific source to point to. A stippling of whip trees and sway-bark covered the otherwise barren shoreline. A narrow span of tumbled rocks smoothed over with dirt and mud jutted out into the lake twenty paces before ending in a large split boulder upon which a spiral shape had been carved. Flat rocks pressed into the hard dirt formed a path leading around the side of a broken rock formation over thirty paces high.

He sniffed the air, detecting nothing but the smell of marsh dirt and vegetation. Aside from the quiet hiss from Ziedra’s flight magic the only sounds were the songs of a few scattered birds, the breeze and the lapping of the lake water against the shore.

<That can’t have been here very long,> Daena remarked, hovering over the makeshift quay and glancing back to the chunk of split granite at its end. <There’s no tracks though—weird.>

<I guess that solves the whole mystery as whether there are critters living in this place,> Azir remarked. <That sure wasn’t made by a broadpaw.>

<No,> Wren agreed. <Stay spread out, but keep each other in sight.>

Bannor circled around the outcrop, staying high enough to avoid entanglement from the ground and anything potentially jumping at him from the vantages higher up.

Thick copses of trees formed a circle some five hundred paces across on the side of the outcrop. On the far side of the massif, the ground dropped away into what at first glance appeared to be a large pit. It looked as if a giant hand had scooped a hunk out of raw stone, leaving a scalloped depression some fifty paces deep and a hundred long, with the windward side forming a gradual slope up to ground level. Against the back of the pocket was a structure hacked out of solid heart rock. The arrangement was little more than six columns supporting a roughly domed roof. Centered under the roof were a large bowl and a waist high rectangular slab. The whole construct sat on a series of six tiers, each a few hands high. Two broad effigies leaned against the back wall on either side of the bottom-most tier. They depicted an enormously round and endowed female caricature with its hands outstretched.

Like everything else, the place looked empty and unused, as though built and shortly thereafter abandoned.

Wren floated down from above him and studied the area with a furrowed brow. <A shrine to Gaea? How odd.>

<Why is that odd?>

<The first ones didn’t revere her. I don’t know of any culture that worshiped her actually. These people obviously did though.> She looked around. <Zee, where’s the magic you detected? It isn’t by that bowl thing is it?>

The ascendant of magic tilted her head. <It’s by the bowl thing.>

<Great.> She looked around. <You don’t think they built this on top of the first one stock pile do you?>

<No,> Ziedra answered.

<Whew. Good.>

The dark-haired woman sniffed. <They built it in front of it.>

<Ah, spit! Are you jesting?>

<No, it’s well concealed, but it feels like the materials we need are in that rock somewhere.>

<Frell.>

<So?> Azir wondered. <It’s just an abandoned shrine.>

<Az, nothing hacks somebody off more than when you screw with their religious stuff. If whoever made this is still around, they will go straight from hostile to holy war.>

<I don’t get it,> Daena thought from above the rocks. <Where are they? We haven’t seen a single dang track—nothing. Are they ghosts? It’s creepy.>

<Ghosts who kill broad-paws don’t forget,> Senalloy remarked. <Bannor couldn’t find tracks there either. Maybe these critters fly like we do.>

Bannor looked out to the trees that formed a ruff around the depression. He saw nothing—not even an animal trail.

<Sen, what do you think?> Wren asked.

<I think it’s creeping me out too,> the Baronian responded. <There’s critters around. I feel it in my bones. Whatever they are, they are complete spooks. I sense nothing—no life force, no magic, no phase shift…>

<Bah,> Azir growled. <All this dealing with the Daergon stealth has us jumpy. There’s nothing out there.>

<Just the same,> Bannor said. <Before we go in, I better check in with Megan. Tell them what we’re up to.>

<Good idea,> Wren said.

He concentrated on Megan, forming the valkyrie’s life sigil in his mind and pressing that symbol into the shaladen. <Megan, are you there?>

It was perhaps a few heartbeats before the lead Shael Dal responded. <Yes, Bannor. Your report?>

<Well, we think—> He stopped as he heard a guttural snarl ululating somewhere in the trees. The utterance made his skin prickle and his insides grow cold. It didn’t sound like any animal or human he had ever heard.

<What the frell was that?> Daena let out turning toward the noise.

<Bannor—?> Megan said in his head.

<Sorry,> he responded. <We may have found—> The snarling came again, only this time from sources all around the depression.

Azir, Wren, and Ziedra all closed ranks directly over the middle of the slope. He, Daena, and Senalloy came shoulder to shoulder bodies braced as they looked for origin of the growls.

<I don’t see a damn thing!> Daena murmured.

<Bannor,> Megan said in his mind. <Is something wrong?>

<It appears that—> he started again. Something shimmered off to his right near the slope heading into the shrine, solidifying into a pale broad-shouldered humanoid figure with a train of bluish hair growing from its skull and neck. The creature, which looked male, wore roughly stitched clothing made from some kind of smooth hide. Fangs flashed as it let out a cry reminiscent of moon-howler on the hunt. <—that we’ve discovered the Lokori.> He finally finished.

More blue-haired figures shimmered into being around them, males and females, all of them leaned their heads back and bayed, raising clawed hands as if to curse them.

His whole body felt like ice. <And they’re not happy.>

Return to Contents

Chapter Thirteen

In all my days I had never been hated so
powerfully by something that had only
instants before just set eyes on me…
—Ziedra Skyedoom Felspar,
Magestrix Prodigal

Growling creatures all around them, Bannor felt his heart start galloping. Even though they were some twenty paces up from the floor of the shrine, he did not feel safe as the blue-haired humanoids glared up at them with glowing gold eyes and bayed like animals. Clawed hands clenching and unclenching, fanged jaws set in hungry grimaces their forms wavered and shimmered like heat images.

“Holy frell,” Azir murmured, spinning around. “They came out of no-where. They’re all over the place!”

“This is not good,” Wren breathed. “Up. Don’t move fast… go straight up.”

As a group they started to rise. Their motion only agitated the creatures further making them howl and scream.

“Ah spit, I don’t like the looks of that!” Daena pointed.

Bannor snatched around. Four of the male creatures stood together with their clawed hands linked. While another that must be a female sprinted back twenty paces, slid to a stop, dug her hands and toes into the dirt and launched herself forward.

“Go! Go! Go!” He hollered, willing himself up.

The female moved so fast she became a streak, she hit those bunched hands and they launched her like a catapult.

Climbing faster than a horse could gallop, he thought for an instant he was safe, until the reality sent icy shrieks of panic racing through him. “Ahhh, frell!” Wailing like a banshee, the female creature was suddenly above him, coming down.

He swung shaladen up to meet her, willing it into a shield. The powerful weapon solidified, just as her claws whistled down and hit the metal with an ear-numbing rasp and tore through.

Pain exploded from his arm, shoulder, and side as white-hot talons carved through him in a spray of blood that blotted out the sky. He roared in agony as the thing hung its claws in his thigh and thrashed away like a living meat grinder, tearing through his Kriar battle carapace as though it were rusty pot metal.

Incredible torment and desperation gave him the strength to drive his fist into her face and knock the female beast loose in a rip of tearing flesh. “Arrrgh!”

He heard his name yelled several times but he couldn’t see. He only knew he must get out of the range of another of those attacks.

In the middle of his blind climb, someone took his wrist and pulled him. “I got you,” he heard Senalloy say. “Keep flying.”

They finally stopped when it grew hard to breathe.

He couldn’t see but he heard everyone gathered around breathing hard.

“Spit,” Ziedra gasped.

“Damn, damn, damn,” he heard Wren muttering, her voice was shaking. “Bannor, you with us?”

He groaned and concentrated on holding his guts in. “Can’t see.”

“What is with Gaea!” Azir yelled. “A coven dreadnought is a weeping prissy compared to one of those things!”

“Shut up, Az,” Wren ordered. “Daena, you and Zee get a hand on his belt. Sen, when they get a hold of him, see what you can do.”

He felt hands take hold of his belt.

“Oh ow,” Daena moaned. “He’s bleeding so much.”

“Lords,” Ziedra muttered in a shaky voice. “It hacked right through the shaladen.”

“Bannor,” Wren said to him. “Tilt your head back.”

Grimacing, against the pain he did as she asked.

“I’m going to pour some water on your face and wipe away the blood so you can see.”

A cold splash across his eyes made him flinch. Wren rubbed at his face. The world came back in a blur of colors. He blinked away the water and tears and caught a sketchy view of the blonde savant’s concerned expression.

The pain in his stomach lessened somewhat as Senalloy applied some healing magic. “I need get him on the ground,” she said. “He’s bleeding internally. I need to get the blood out of those cavities before sealing him up. He’ll go into septic shock if I don’t do some repairs first.” Grimacing, she leaned over his leg and pushed bleeding flaps of torn flesh back into place.

“Rrrr,” he moaned through gritted teeth.

“Oh, Bannor,” Daena said, rubbing the back of his head.

“Hold on, let me get the rest of this bleeding stopped,” Senalloy said. “Tell your shaladen not to shock me.”

“Urrrhm, how?”

“It’s smart, just tell it… think it.”

It’s okay, let her touch you, he telepathed into the weapon.

“Okay, this is going to smart, I have to get this thing off.”

He closed his eyes and braced. Even prepared, it felt like his arm was being ripped off. His cheeks puffed out and he made choked sounds as he tried to hold in a scream.

She got the shaladen shield off and stared at the four gouges raked down through the middle of what he thought was impervious metal.

“How in all the stars?” Ziedra breathed. “That’s frelling impossible. That’s krill-ishtite alloy.”

“Apparently nobody told those blue-hairs,” Wren murmured.

Senalloy looped the shield over her shoulder, then started working on his arm. She worked with care moving torn bits of flesh into place and sealing them with healing magic. “That was fast thinking, Bannor,” she said as she worked. “She aimed for your heart.”

“Can’t have it.” He struggled to force a smile. “It’s Sarai’s.”

Ziedra patted his shoulder. “Damn near ripped in half and you can still make a joke. You’re one tough guy.”

“Promise,” he grunted. “Don’t tell Sarai—she’ll have—have a fit.”

“Bannor, you dope, you were linked with Megan when you were hit. There’s no way they don’t know you were clobbered.”

“If she knows already—I can’t stop it… but… if she doesn’t.”

“You worry about living,” Wren growled scrubbing the top of his head. “She’ll get over it.”

“Okay,” Senalloy determined. “That’s the best I can do while we’re in the middle of the sky.”

“Frell. Where do we land?” Azir said, looking around. “We can’t even see the damn things until they’re on top of us.”

“I don’t understand,” Daena said. “It wasn’t random, they went straight after Bannor.”

“Just my—” He coughed, sending a wracking pain through his torso. “My wonderful luck.”

“No,” Senalloy said with a shake of her head. “Your amateur telepathy.”

“Huh?” Wren said.

“He’s still learning to use the shaladen,” she informed her. “When he sends person-to-person there’s still a lot of ‘noise’. Those blue-hairs went berserk the instant he linked up with Megan.”

“We were linked and they didn’t do anything.”

“You don’t use much power to send to someone a pace away, and savant-to-savant mindspeak is on a different spectrum as well.”

“They went insane because he used telepathy?”

“She’s right,” he agreed. “They got more crazy each—” He winced. “Each time I sent a thought.”

“It’s possible I suppose. Some animals go weird over certain sounds,” Wren said.

“It might explain why they attacked the Kriar,” Senalloy said. “Telepathy is their primary means of communication. If these things didn’t like it when he tried off-site telepathy, imagine how they would respond if you tried to communicate with them using it.”

Wren clicked her teeth. She pointed to a rise in the landscape far below them. “See that hill on the far side of the lake away from the shrine? Let’s head there.”

“Isn’t that kinda close to where they are?”

“It’s more than a league away with a dozen furlongs of water between them to boot,” she answered. “Zee, you can make a shield to keep them out, right?”

“Against those things?” the ascendant of magic said. “I have no idea what they can do.”

“Just give it a try,” Wren said. “We only need to be there long enough for Senalloy to patch Bannor up.”

“You aren’t seriously thinking we should still try and go in there?”

“Of course I am,” she answered with a growl. “They won the first clash, scared the spit out of us, but now we know better.”

“It doesn’t sound like we know better,” Daena murmured. “It sounds like we’re crazy.”

“Dane, they’re scary, they’re strong—” She thumped the younger woman on the shoulder. “Guess what—so are we. We are in the cradle of the place that gives us our power.”

“I’m,” he coughed. “…With you—uhhh—once I’m patched up that is.”

“Bannor, you jest,” Ziedra said. “That thing gutted you like a fish. You want to go back? We should call for help and let the elders handle this!”

He grimaced. “It’s not their job. It’s ours.”

“Come on, let’s go,” Wren angled back toward the ground.

Daena and Ziedra helped him as they followed her.

Wren swooped down on the hilltop, pausing only a few moments to look around before dropping to the surface. Senalloy landed next to her, weapon drawn. Azir landed a moment after, looking uneasy.

Daena and Ziedra eased him to the ground.

“Lay him down,” Senalloy directed, still gazing around and alert for possible attack.

He groaned and winced as they put him down. He could only think of how wise it had been for Sarai to have Wysteri enhance his body. As tough as this form was, another few instants and that beast would have finished him.

Once he was secure, Ziedra patted him on the shoulder and rose. She raised her hands and chanted some guttural sounding words. A hemisphere of translucent colors that reminded him of a bubble of soap surrounded them.

“Do you know how to do a phase shield?” Senalloy asked. “I think those Lokori phase shift.”

Ziedra shook her head.

“Okay,” Senalloy clapped her hands and went into a complicated ritual, hands moving and voice rising and falling as she uttered the cadences of the spell. A long breath later, shadows spread out from her and merged with the sphere created by Ziedra. “There, that should prevent any phasing unpleasantness.”

She knelt down by him. “Sorry to take so long,” she said. “I know that has to be hurting something fierce.” Brushing her hair back, she pulled a pouch off her belt and pulled out some kind of leather bound case. She flipped it open revealing an array of tools and vials.

“Hey,” Wren said in a flat tone to Azir and the others. “Don’t watch her, keep your eyes up.”

Senalloy pulled the straps on his carapace and removed it.

She explained as she worked, her hands moving with familiar expertise. “When you have a punctured intestine there’s bile and other bad stuff that can get mixed up with your blood.” He felt something sharp jab in his side. A numbness spread through his torso. It made his vision go blurry. “Okay, we’ll wait a few moments for that to take effect.”

He swallowed, it was getting a little hard to breathe. “Dumb question, you do know—” “—what I’m doing?” she finished. She ran a hand across his brow. “Yes, Bannor.” She pulled another pouch from her side, reached inside and began assembling some objects. She emptied the contents of a flask on a cloth she produced and swabbed his skin and cleaned around the wound.

He felt her hands distantly, and experienced a strange tugging. He started to look down and she put a hand on his forehead and pushed him back. “Study the sky. You don’t need to see this. Just lay still.” She went back to work. “Now,” she continued her explanation. “If you didn’t have an immort body you’d go into toxic shock, if the shock didn’t kill you right off, the septic infection would.” He heard some disturbing sucking and sloshing sounds. Daena made a weird sound. He looked toward the girl who had turned pale. Eyes wide she put her hands to her face and cringed away. He noticed Wren grimacing and focusing her attention toward the lake.

He swallowed as the woman held up something that looked like a needle and thread. “Uhhh,” he murmured.

“I have to suture the bowel and intestines that were slashed. We have to prevent adhesions. If I don’t sew them up, things will heal together and you’ll tear inside. Healing fast makes it worse because you keep healing and tearing, healing and tearing… You don’t want that… trust me.”

Bannor grimaced. “I trust you.”

“Damn, I’m gonna be sick,” Azir muttered.

“You should do like your sister says,” Senalloy said, needle and thread occasionally emerging in Bannor’s view, her hands crimson with his blood. “Wren, I should have mentioned it before, I need some water to irrigate this wound. The little bit of septic I have isn’t enough.”

“That’s okay, I’ll go—” The woman stiffened her eyes going wide. “Ohhh, spit!”

“Wren?” Ziedra whirled around and gasped.

Bannor looked where they were staring.

Hunched down inside Ziedra’s magic shield, a male Lokori leaned toward them sniffing and turning its head, clawed hands clenching and unclenching. It focused glowing gold eyes on them and growled…

Return to Contents

Chapter Fourteen

I have seen a great deal in my life, and
death doesn’t frighten me. Still, something
about those creatures just managed to
squeeze a shiver out of me…
—Senalloy Moirae Corresont,
Commander Nightslash Elite Detached

Since gaining his savant powers, Bannor had been in all manner of danger and faced everything from demons to gods. Still, he could not think of a more compromised position to be in than lying on the ground with some healer’s hands wrist deep in his guts when one of the most dangerous entities they had ever encountered decided to pay a visit. He sucked a breath and dug his fingers into the grass.

“Don’t—move,” Senalloy rasped in a low voice.

Around him the others tensed as the blue-haired Lokori let out a low growl, the bunched muscles of its lean body quivering with explosive strength. Glowing gold eyes narrowed, it gazed around at them, fanged jaws clicking. It raised its nose and sniffed again.

“Spit,” Ziedra murmured in a quiet voice. “What do we do!?”

“Do not hack it off,” Wren whispered, she squatted down and put her hands in the grass.

Her movement made the Lokori jerk and make low grunt. It stared at her, tilted its head and bared its fangs with different sounding snarl.

“Crouch down,” she ordered. “Get your head lower than his.”

Daena gasped. “What?”

“Just do it!” she snapped.

Azir crouched down beside her and placed his hands on the grass. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Do what she says,” Senalloy hissed. “Don’t argue.”

The Lokori murmured and twitched as each of them lowered themselves down in a crouch, but did nothing overtly aggressive. Its lip curled and it made murmuring sounds as it sniffed the air.

Bannor couldn’t help but shake a little as the creature shifted forward. His heart thrummed in his chest and he felt like ice.

“Sennn…” he moaned.

“Stay still,” she rumbled.

The Lokori muttered some lower, more passive sounds, and crept forward on hands and toes. Its skin, which had a greenish tint, glinted like polished metal in the ruddy light. It wore a makeshift sleeveless tunic made from some kind of smooth animal hide as well as short breeches sewn with gut. For all their animalistic nature, these creatures obviously possessed some kind of human-like intelligence and culture.

Shrugging broad shoulders, the creature sidled up until it was less than a pace away from them. It made grunts and murmurs, sniffing and rubbing at its thick blue ruff of hair as it edged toward Ziedra. As the male creature moved, Bannor noticed numerous scars all down its arms and legs.

He saw the ascendant of magic swallow as she eyed the potent entity drawing closer. “Wren, what are we doing?”

“We’re being calm and letting him check us out,” the blonde savant whispered.

“I hope he likes us,” Azir rumbled.

The Lokori paused just an arm-length away from Ziedra, raising its nose and sniffing. Tension running through its body, it made a whining, uncertain sound and shifted side-to-side looking her up and down.

“What’s it doing?” Ziedra said, looking back to Wren.

“Are you wearing perfume?”

“Of course,” the dark-haired woman answered.

“He doesn’t know what to make of it,” Wren offered.

Bannor felt some movement and realized that Senalloy was keeping an eye on the situation but using the creature’s apparent distraction to finish up her surgical duties.

The Lokori overcame its uncertainty and shifted forward with a grunt.

Ziedra flinched, cringing as it came right up on her. “Wrennn…” she moaned.

“Shhh,” the blonde savant hushed. “Stay calm.”

The blue-haired humanoid hovered over the ascendant of magic, not quite touching her, sniffing at her hair and shoulders and shaking.

After a moment, Ziedra rocked her head back and her jaw tightened. She let out a breath. “Lorrrds… you don’t think…”

“That is one lonely howler,” Azir murmured. “He’s so hard he could do a tree-stump.”

“Damn you, Azir,” Ziedra growled, clenching her fists.

The emotion in the woman’s voice and the tensing of her body made the Lokori shy back a bit.

“Something tells me this fellow has been a bit unlucky in love,” Daena said in wary tone.

The creature shifted closer and sniffed again, almost intoxicated by whatever it was that made the dark-haired ascendant smell different. He finally reached out and gathered together a finger-thick bundle of her hair across his palm and brought it to his face.

The Lokori made raw groaning sounds between sniffs.

“Okay, I have gone from terrified to icked-out,” Ziedra murmured. “What the hades is he doing with my hair?”

“You use that scented soap on your hair, right?”

“What woman doesn’t?”

“I don’t.”

“Wren, do you even count?”

“Hey!”

“He sure likes the way you smell,” Daena remarked.

“I’m worried about when he gets the idea he can move on to other business,” Ziedra said. “Can he even hear? We’re talking and he doesn’t react.”

“Oh, he has awesome hearing,” Wren said. “He just doesn’t care what we’re saying.”

“Zee,” Senalloy said. “Just keep him distracted a little longer. I’m almost done working on Bannor.”

Ziedra growled. Her brow furrowed and she drew a breath. She raised her hand.

“Careful,” Wren advised.

The Lokori was so lost in the scent of Ziedra’s hair that he didn’t seem to care as she raised her hand and reached out to touch the thick blue mane crowning the creature’s head, neck, and back. She touched a few strands and then moved her fingers through it when he didn’t react. Actually, the creature seemed so enamored of her scent that a castle could collapse next to him and he wouldn’t notice.

“Whoa, his hair is soft,” Ziedra marveled. “It’s like kitten fur.” Growing more confident, she stroked his head.

The Lokori almost swooned, whining and pressing up against her touch. Hands clenching and unclenching energies flickered around the male’s arms. Like a cat’s claws extending and retracting, razor-sharp metal shimmered into being around his fingers with a rasp, then clicked out of existence.

Ziedra tilted her head, staring at the creature with wide eyes. “Awww, it’s cute—in a creepy horrendously lethal way.”

“Damn,” Azir muttered. “Talk about desperate for attention…”

“I want some of that perfume,” Daena remarked.

“Don’t relax,” Wren said. “He could get crazy fast. Daena, talk to him.”

“Me? Why me?”

“You’re the only one with that spirit speak ability. We know what will happen if we try to telepath him.”

“I guess.”

Daena moved, still on hands and feet around to Senalloy. Bannor could tell she was making an effort not to look down. “Sen, is Bannor going to be okay?”

“Sure, just a give me a bit more time.”

The auburn haired girl circled around closer to Ziedra and the Lokori. She cleared her throat. “Ummm—Hello?”

The Lokori didn’t respond. Of course, he probably wouldn’t have noticed if she had clubbed him over the head.

“Come closer,” Ziedra said. “Slow though.”

Daena sidled up until she was almost touching him.

“Reach out a hand, but don’t touch him.”

The girl did as Ziedra said.

Daena’s movement broke the Lokori out of his reverie and he twitched back with a low growl. He stared at Daena, and the tone dropped. He leaned forward and sniffed at her fingers.

“Ummm, can you understand me?” Daena said.

The Lokori seemed more interested in her hand than in communicating. He made murmuring sounds as he tentatively dipped closer and closer until his nose was over her knuckles.

“So, is he an animal, or what?” Azir said. “He wears clothes.”

“It’s pretty strange,” Wren said. “I can handle not knowing as long as he’s not ripping and tearing at us. You saw those claws?”

“Yeah.”

The Lokori took hold of Daena’s wrist and pulled her close.

“Hey!” She yelped, fumbling forward and catching her balance on her free hand.

“Stay calm,” Wren urged.

The Lokori pulled her hand to his face, sniffing her palm then down her arm. He reached the armor encasing her arm and grunted. He examined the heavy material, tapping it with a steely claw. After a few instants of study, he split the finger-thick alloy apart with a slash of his nail, the way a normal person might slash through a wax document seal.

Daena flinched. “Yii!” She stared down at her arm as the Lokori peeled away the split arm guard and tossed it away with a clunk. He went back to exploring her scent. “Frelll… did you see that?” She murmured with wide eyes, staring at her unmarked arm.

“Lords,” Ziedra breathed.

“Spit, we might as well be wearing parchment,” Azir muttered.

“Monomolecular claws,” Senalloy remarked, looking up from her careful stitching.

“Mono-what-ular?” Wren said.

“Simply put, the perfect edge, the sharpest thing in the universe. Usually, it’s only possible in an artifice. Somehow it was integrated into a living thing.”

Daena was shaking. “Damn, this guy is scary.”

“Dane, if you stay calm I don’t think he’ll hurt you.”

She stared down at the raptly intent Lokori. “There are things besides physical harm that I still don’t want to happen.”

“Dane, we’ll help you…”

“You’ll try…”

Senalloy seemed to finish with her needle and thread. “Wren, I still need that water.”

“Dren. Do you think it’s safe for me to take off with mister amorous fawning all over Daena and Zee?”

“We’re not safe, but the danger does not seem immediate. Just hurry.”

“Okay. Dane, if he gets too fresh blow him over the horizon. I’d rather learn something about them, but if we can’t…” Her voice trailed off. “I’ll be back fast.”

“Sure, just leave me to deal with this guy,” Daena murmured.

Wren retreated back out through Ziedra’s shield and when a good distance away leaped into the air and hissed toward the lake.

“Not that I mind being admired,” Daena said. “I would rather you spoke to me.”

The Lokori grunted and made a different sound.

Daena stiffened. “What?”

“Did he say something?” Ziedra asked.

“Sort of,” Daena said with a furrowed brow.

“Talk or I’m not going to let you smell me anymore.”

The Lokori’s intent movements and nuzzling of her arm stopped. It raised its head and stared at her with glowing gold eyes. Its lips peeled back from long fangs and he let out a long growl.

“Who am I? Who are you? Mister steal a free sniff.”

Ziedra gritted her teeth and made stopping gestures with her hands. “Daena, claws—remember the claws.”

The Lokori leaned away from Daena and dropped down on his knees. He glanced back at Ziedra, then back to Daena. He made a low rumble in his throat.

The auburn-haired savant scowled at him. “What do you mean we smell good but we’re not very smart?”

“He probably understands everything we say,” Azir said. “It’s like Sis said. He just doesn’t care.”

Daena folded her arms. “Well, I care. I didn’t come here to be some Lokori’s scratch and sniff!”

The creature eyed Daena. The expression on its face, the subtle movements of its body, demonstrated that this was not some animal. It lowered its head with narrowed eyes and made a series of guttural sounds that were the first things Bannor had heard that resembled any kind of language.

Daena focused on the Lokori, expression hardening. “Look, just because we’d rather not kill doesn’t mean we can’t or won’t.” She unfolded her arms and opened her fingers. “I can blow you all the way to those mountains if you really want proof.” A bluish illumination surrounded her body.

The Lokori stared at her, golden eyes shining. Its claws unsheathed with a snap.

“Daena…” Ziedra warned.

Staring at him, the young savant rose to her feet.

The Lokori swayed to a stand with a toss of its mane. It worried clawed toes into the turf. Muscles twitching, the creature loomed over Daena. She met its gleaming eyes.

“You want to start something, Furry?” Daena growled. “Your friends will be cleaning fuzz off the mountainside for a tenday.”

“Daena we can’t get information from a flaming blood smear,” Ziedra warned.

“You’re assuming this mooch knows something worthwhile.”

Growling something, the Lokori drew back.

Daena made a slapping gesture. The Lokori blasted away from her with a thrum that made the air shudder. He slammed into the turf with a crunch. Grass and weeds exploded as he shrieked backward, gouging a long furrow in the ground.

Azir winced. “Ow.”

Ziedra stared at the creature half buried in the hilltop. “Oh frell, Dane. Now you’ve done it!”

The Lokori let out a roar and launched itself out of the crater it had made, and lanced at the young ascendant in a blur.

Daena took two steps forward and backhanded the creature as it came into range. The Lokori made half a dozen pace-wide divots in the soil before tumbling and smashing to a stop.

Not deterred, the creature leaped up and charged again. Only to be punched off to another punishing landing.

The creature leaped out of the third crater and shook the dirt off, claws glinting in the reddish light, gold eyes shining like stars. It made a low rumbling growl.

Daena shook her head. “Bring it, Furry. We can do this until you’re tired of eating grass. As long as you have a metal skeleton and claws—I own you. You could turn off that power and try to beat me down.” She made a coming gesture. “Try it, you blue mooch!”

“Hey, what’s going on!?” Wren yelled, showing up over the crest of the hill and slowing to a stop a few paces off the ground. She held a water-skin under her arm.

“Furry was learning some manners,” Daena growled.

The Lokori oriented on Wren and blazed straight at her with a snarl.

The savant of forces had perhaps an eye-blink to recognize her danger. Apparently, it was enough because she spun in the air, avoiding the stroke of the creature’s claws and whirling a heel kick into its backside. The counter-attack fired the Lokori into the turf with a crash that made the ground shake.

“What the frell?” Wren demanded. “I didn’t do anything, what’s he attacking me for?” Keeping an eye on the creature she floated down through the shield and landed by Senalloy and Bannor. She handed the water-skin to the Baronian lady.

“Don’t blame Daena,” Senalloy said. “We could only understand half the conversation, but it appeared that he got a little lippy with her.”

Wren put hands on hips and looked between the auburn-haired ascendant and the most recent crater containing the angry Lokori. This last attack had apparently been more punishing than the previous three because he didn’t immediately leap up. “Is that so?”

“Difficult to translate,” Daena said. “Kind of like we were scum because we were too weak and too stupid to be respected.” She shrugged.

Wren sniffed, staring at the groaning Lokori who had pushed up to his hands and knees.

“Sounds like a kick in the arse is just what he needed.”

Bannor moaned and let out a breath.

“What’s wrong?” Senalloy said to him. “Is the pain killer wearing off?”

He shook his head. “No, I just feel—” He let out a breath. “Never mind.”

The Baronian pressed her lips to a line and nodded. She took the bag that Wren had given her and held it up, she closed her eyes for a moment, when she opened them an instant later a gleaming white aura surrounded her hands. The bag floated up out of her grasp and uncorked itself. The water poured up out of the spigot forming a growing bubble of shimmering fluid hovering over him like a sparkling cloud reflecting the reddish light of the sky.

Senalloy put the bag aside.

“What are you doing?” Ziedra asked. “It sure looks wizard.”

“Purifying the water,” Senalloy answered. “It looks more impressive than it is.” She gestured and a black radiance raked through the amorphous shape.

Bannor drew his gaze away from what the Baronian was doing to the Lokori. The blue haired creature had stopped a few paces outside Ziedra’s circle of protection, and had crouched down. He seemed fascinated by Senalloy’s spell casting. Such a strange creature.

Wren crouched by Bannor and put a hand on his shoulder. “Hanging tough?”

He swallowed and nodded.

She followed his gaze to the Lokori. The light from Senalloy’s magic cast a rainbow of colors in her eyes and made her skin gleam and sparkle. She let out a breath, grimaced and put a hand on his head. Her blue eyes were glassy as she studied his face with sincere concern and affection. “I’m sorry, Brother. Sorry, I let that happen. I was stupid.”

“Not your fault,” he mumbled. “I was too slow.”

She gritted her teeth. “Bannor, you—” She bit herself off. “It wasn’t your fault.” She swallowed. “Now, I have to try to salvage something out of this mess.” She rose to her feet and turned to face the Lokori. “Well, Dane. So, can we talk to him or not?”

The auburn-haired savant frowned. She folded her arms. The Lokori’s gaze tracked to her. “Well, he seems to understand us. I can understand him. He may even be able to talk to us, but like you said, he doesn’t care to.”

“Gaea said they hated things other than themselves,” Wren said. “I find hatred like that tends to be rooted in thinking everyone else is inferior.”

“You mean like pantheon lords treat mortals,” Daena said.

“Exactly,” Wren agreed. She snapped her fingers at the creature.

The Lokori focused burning eyes on her.

“Let’s stop playing games. Do you serve Gaea or not?”

The blue-haired creature stiffened. He leaned his head down and snarled.

She pushed out through the shield and moved toward the creature. “You don’t like me saying her name? Gaea is my mother. If you attack me, it’s going to make her very unhappy.”

The Lokori roared and charged her.

“Wren!” Daena gasped.

Like she was doing one of those shadow dance maneuvers, the blonde ascendant lunged beneath the creature’s claws and lifted a knee into its sternum with an impact that made the air tremble.

The male’s cry became a hurt bellow and a futile gasp for breath. He writhed on the ground clutching his stomach and trying to suck air.

“Blue boy, you’re out here by yourself because your own folks don’t like you. Probably because you’re not much of a fighter—but that’s just a guess.”

The Lokori clawed to its knees and glared at her with tears streaming down its cheeks. It snarled and spit in a way that needed no translation.

“I think you need to rethink who’s pathetic here. You’re on the ground, and you’re going to stay there. Whether you live will be a function of whether you please me or not.”

The creature tossed its head, gaze boring into her.

“I am the daughter of Gaea. I’m prepared to prove it. However, I need something. I need into the ruins underneath Gaea’s shrine by the lake. I need help.”

Tears streaking down its face, the Lokori coughed and wheezed in an uncontrollable fit.

A fit of laughter.

Return to Contents

Chapter Fifteen

It didn’t take long to figure out why the
Lokori terrified the Kriar. One or two are
bad enough but large groups… Being inside
a meat grinder is safer…
—Liandra “Wren” Kergatha,
2nd Princess of Cosmodarus

The guttural sounds of the downed Lokori made Bannor’s skin prickle. The hacking winded sounds of gasping intermixed with the creature’s obvious laughter were anything but reassuring. Around him, the other savants stiffened. Their armored bodies grew taut as they stared at the blue-haired creature. Unmoved as always, Senalloy continued working her magic to finish healing his wounds.

He winced as the pulsing globe of glowing water manipulated by the Baronian’s magic began to swirl, churn and move like a thing alive. Thin strands of glistening material flowed out of the mass and he felt an icy tingling in his midsection.

“Whoa, that’s creepy looking,” Azir murmured. His attention going to what Senalloy was doing. He knelt by Bannor and put a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

He nodded. He found it strange. It was the first time he ever recalled Wren’s brother ever directly addressing him. He needed to keep his attention off what the healer was doing.

“Azir,” he said.

Wren’s brother looked down at him. “Yeah?”

“Your sister, she—she cares about you. I think—I think she’s just a little jealous.”

The man grinned and brushed at his dark hair. “Pretty obvious, huh? Don’t worry. I’m not really mad at her, even if she is being a witch. I’m smart enough to know why. She’s more upset with me than I am with her. It’s my fault. I tease her a lot.”

Bannor swallowed. “Good.”

The sounds coming from his abdomen were ghastly, it didn’t hurt, but the word ‘strange’ didn’t even begin to capture the weird sensations as magically manipulated liquid flushed the toxins and hardened blood from his insides. Ziedra, Wren, and Daena each glanced just once at the procedure paled and made visible effort to look elsewhere.

The Lokori, on the other hand, sobered and focused on the procedure with intent fascination.

“Damn,” he murmured. “That blue-haired killer makes my skin crawl.”

“There,” Senalloy determined. “That should be good enough.” He felt a warmth spread through his body, and a gold illumination swelled out of his skin. A quivering went through his abdomen as he felt flesh shift and he heard the peculiar slurping sound of flesh undergoing accelerated healing.

After a few moments, Senalloy let out a breath. “Okay, let’s try to avoid any further injuries, shall we?”

He blinked and stared up at her. “Yes, thank you.”

The Baronian woman gestured and the already blood stained water flowed in a stream over her hands. She rubbed them together in the stream until they were clean. “Lay still for a little bit and give your body a chance to recover—that was pretty harsh.”

He nodded.

Senalloy rose to her feet and turned toward the Lokori.

The blue-haired male narrowed his eyes as she stared at him.

“Wren, while I think it’s a good to try to gain whatever advantage we can. I think little can be gained from this creature other than what he’s already shared with us.”

The blonde savant glanced over. “What has he shared?”

“Smell,” Senalloy said. “Any disguises we use must account for our scent.” She tilted her head. “Their communication too. They have a meta-language that utilizes a combination of sound and arcane soul-speak.”

“Soulspeak?” Ziedra said. “You mean like Daena? Is that how he understands us?”

“Yes. I felt it when he lost his temper. Apparently, they possess a weaker form of that ability.”

“That’s pretty hard to fake,” Wren said. “At least Daena can understand them.”

“So, what are you saying, Sen?” Daena said. “What do we do with him?”

The Baronian shrugged. “Tie him up. Kill him. Anything that will prevent him from intentionally or unintentionally informing his peers of what we plan to do.”

“And what are we planning?” Wren asked with an arch expression.

“If you’re determined to go in there, and given the way you spoke, it seemed fairly certain. Then we need to disguise ourselves, get close, break into that chamber, get those materials and make a run for it.”

Bannor pushed himself up to a sitting position. He rubbed his bare stomach and looked down at the jagged line of reddened scar tissue across his torso. The injuries to his leg, side and arm didn’t seem to be troublesome anymore. He started getting back into his damaged armor while listening to their discourse. He also kept an eye on the Lokori who listened with narrowed eyes.

Wren glanced back at Daena and pointed to him. “Dane, help Bannor get back on his feet.”

Keeping an eye on the Lokori, the auburn-haired girl slipped over and together she and Azir helped Bannor to stand. She reached up and touched his forehead. “How come Ziedra’s magic wore off?”

He touched his head, realizing that the warmth there had vanished. He shrugged. Rolling his left shoulder he tested the movement of his arm and side. Senalloy was an amazing healer. He found it strange that someone who so obviously enjoyed battle was so gifted at nurture as well. Senalloy picked up the damaged shaladen shield and handed it to him with a reassuring nod.

He accepted the weapon with a bow to her. He pushed his will into the device, visualizing it whole once more. With a soft hissing sound the material reshaped itself back into the configuration of a solid shield.

Ziedra leaned toward them noticing what Daena had remarked on. Her brow furrowed. “I’ll fix that in a moment.”

He started to say something and there was a crackling sound inside his head. Then a voice hit him so loud it made him stagger and grip his ears. <BANNOR!?? My One are you there?>

<Ahhh! Not so loud, I’m okay.> He kept an eye on the Lokori, the creature stiffened, the moment he started sending. It looked very unhappy, fingers making gouges in the turf.

<What happened? You were attacked while Megan was communicating with you. She felt you hurt, but then the connection broke. However, we still received a clear sense your life force but we couldn’t get through to you or any of the others.>

He frowned. He glanced at Senalloy. The Baronian’s attention was on the Lokori. The creature might not be a threat to Wren or Daena when they were prepared, but an instant of inattentiveness would result in someone getting seriously injured or killed. He had no explanation. Did the Lokori interfere with the telepathy? Otherwise, it must be Senalloy—she was the only one that possessed both the power and knowledge to block the shaladen. Though telepathy had been cut off, his condition had still been communicated to the Shael Dal. That was a hint in itself.

<I had a close scrape is all,> he told her. <The Lokori are here and they are tough. In fact, can you get Gaea and link us up? She may be able to help us.>

<Close scrape?> Sarai growled. <My One, telepathy is a horrible medium to be telling me half-truths.>

<Uh. Star…>

<We will speak of it later. I will find Gaea and link you.>

He sighed. <Okay.>

He felt her break the connection.

The Lokori scowled at him, and rumbled something in that other language.

Daena folded her arms and glanced over at Bannor. “He seems to think that you are a blasphemer speaking in the goddess’ holy language.”

Wren leaned back and brushed at her blonde hair. She glanced at Bannor with a raised eyebrow. “Oh ho, so that’s why they get so hacked off. It’s only to be used by clerics to speak between themselves and the goddess.” She narrowed her glowing blue eyes. “That might be used to our advantage.”

“I think I know where you’re going,” Ziedra said with a smile.

“I have Sarai going to get Gaea,” he said. “I anticipated that we might be able to get somewhere with the goddess putting in a good word for us.”

The blonde savant nodded. “Perfect.”

The Lokori watched them with a suspicious expression. He did not try to retreat or approach. He had obviously gotten the hint that while they were alert he would only be punished by Wren’s skillful mêlée or Daena’s control of metals and falling force.

Bannor felt a tingling spread through his entire body and a deep feminine voice resonated through him with a power that made his bones seem to vibrate. <My Son, Sarai has linked us with her shaladen. She tells me you are in need of my assistance?>

He swallowed. Since they had released Gaea from the subpaths, he had never felt her so strongly. He guessed it must be her already enormous power being magnified through the shaladen. It took a moment to compose an answer and think coherently. <Yes, Mother,> he responded. <It appears that the whole community of Lokori have a built a shrine to you right on top of the materials you want—and are all around it.>

Gaea did not immediately answer. In the background, he felt Sarai and her disquiet over what he had just reported. <Troublesome,> Gaea murmured in his mind. He felt her frowned. <How can I help?>

<Can you look through my eyes, Mother?>

<Certainly,> she responded. He felt her presence in his mind grow and a euphoric sensation spread through him. A glistening greenish illumination spread around his limbs. His heart thumped harder and he felt the all-mother behind his eyes. <Ah, these shaladens are wonderful.> He blinked and looked around, feeling her take in the surroundings. He focused on the Lokori male.

As he stared at the creature, he felt an icy thread reach through his insides.

The Lokori stiffened and its gold eyes widened.

<Kas dormigor?> Gaea rumbled inside of him. <So am I to understand you wish me to persuade him to help?>

<Yes, Mother. The alternative is to tie him up and do this the hard way,> he answered.

<Are you willing to be my avatar, my Son?>

He blinked. For an irrational instant, his heart leaped at the word ‘avatar’. Then he got control of himself again. Gaea wouldn’t hurt him. He drew a breath. <Yes, Mother.>

<Very well,> she thrummed in his mind. <Open yourself to me.>

Pushing down his trepidation, he relaxed and closed his eyes, thinking of Gaea, of her love and acceptance, of gathering her into himself. The power of the all-mother surged through the shaladen and into his body in what seemed to be an unending flood of strength.

It was as if a beacon of light shone rays of light out of his chest, flooding the reddish atmosphere with a cascade of pulsing magical effervescence. Heart speeding, a flush of heat went through his limbs molding and reshaping them, turning his flesh green. His stomach churned and his skin abruptly seemed too tight.

He realized he was no longer alone in his body.

Gaea was in him. Surveying the crimson sky and rolling landscape with ancient eyes and sagacious intellect. It felt like he could move if he wanted, but it would take effort. The all-mother definitely had the reins and he was mostly an observer in his own body. She looked down at their hand and flexed armored fingers, the black composite still stained with the dried blood of his injuries. He felt a flare of anger surge through their combined psyche making his muscles tense.

The Lokori, already wide-eyed, fell forward, forced to catch himself.

The others all stared at him wide eyed.

“Bannor?” Wren said. “I said contact Gaea—not bring her here.”

They tilted their head with a raised eyebrow. He spoke and the sound echoed and seemed to fill the space around them. “Daughter, could it be you do not want me around?”

Wren sighed. “Of course not, I was simply hoping we could accomplish this without outside assistance.” Her brow furrowed. “Is Bannor still in there?”

“Of course,” they answered. He turned to the Lokori. “Kas dormigor, you are known to me, as are all my children.”

The creature winced like he’d been slapped.

“Dormigor, all of those here are my children and friends. They speak with my voice, and do my will.” Gaea took several steps forward out of the screen and looked down on him. “Do you understand?”

The Lokori made a choking sound.

He felt a twinge of irritation go through his body. The goddess sensed his doubt and frowned. “I did not hear you.”

The Lokori growled. His body vibrated. Bannor knew what was coming but his control of their body was so tenuous. Gaea knew nothing about combat or the threat this creature posed at close range!

The blue-haired creature erupted into motion, impossibly sharp claws hissing around to cut them in half. Gaea experienced no alarm or even concern, Bannor’s view of the landscape turned gray. The threads of the universe blazed into his consciousness. With those lines came songs and harmonies, textures, patterns, sensations and several other distinct perceptions overlaid on his senses.

Their combined body moved only a fraction of a step and lifted an armored knee into the path of Dormigor’s arm well inside the arc of those deadly talons. The Lokori’s wrist slammed home with a crack and rebounded.

Bannor heard himself let out a hiss, hands patterning, slipping outside the follow-up strike, stepping past and driving an elbow into the back of the Lokori’s head with a crunch.

He took hold of the top of the shield. The shaladen flared and morphed with a rasp of crackling magic, becoming two matched swords that they whirled into guard position with a flourish. Face down in a gouge in the turf, Dormigor growled and started to turn. She came down on his back with one knee. She stabbed her double swords into the dirt crosswise on either side of the Lokori’s neck and pulled the sharp edges down tight. The creature grunted in pain, realized his apparent danger and stopped struggling.

The team’s cries of concern and surprise were just now registering in their ears.

Gaea sniffed and looked at Wren sidelong. “What?”

The blonde savant let out a heavy breath. “You scared me.”

You scared me too. Bannor thought at the goddess.

“My apologies, as an avatar within the body of one of my children, I am no-where near as clumsy or helpless.” She focused on the shaladen which crackled and surrounded the Lokori’s throat causing him to gag. The result left a solid handle with which she levered the creature up while pinioning one of his arms with her free hand. “I have access to the powers and skills of all my children. As we discussed this morning, because they have a tao, Su’Ko Tai and her brothers and sisters are nearly as much my children as the rest of you.”

Dormigor began to struggle again. Gaea pressed her will into the shaladen. Magic crackled making the Lokori twitch and gasp as power licked around him like angry insects. “Did I neglect to mention how stubborn Lokori are?”

“Mother, you didn’t really tell us anything except to avoid them,” Wren said with a scowl.

“Oh,” the all-mother winced. “I guess you are right. I was rather hoping it would not come to this.” She let out a breath. “I can keep Dormigor under control but since he does not seem to want to believe it is me, his cooperation is both unlikely and dangerous.”

“So what do we do with him?” Wren asked.

Gaea tightened her grip on the shaladen, and pressed her will into it again. Energy surged, the Lokori’s back arched as powerful magic cascaded through him with a rasp.

He went limp. She caught up the creature’s slumping form and withdrew the shaladen before lowering him to the ground. She transformed the weapon back in an armband on his arm.

“That should keep him from being a nuisance.”

Daena put hands on hips. “Mother why didn’t you tell us about the avatar thing?”

Gaea shrugged. She relaxed her power some of the echo of their voice softened to normal. “Well, given the current situation, it only would have worked through the shaladen. It did not occur to me as something necessary, especially if this place was empty. This is something of an inconvenience for Bannor. It is his body after all.” She tilted her head, gaze fixing on the auburn-haired savant. “Does that mean you would have been willing to be my avatar?”

Daena blinked. “Uhhh. I guess.”

“It is done. I am here.” She looked down at her hand. To herself more than anyone else she said. “I must figure out how to get these abilities while in my normal form—quite useful and rather… exhilarating.”

Wren raised an eyebrow. “Well, maybe we better get to the shrine in case there’s a limit to how long Bannor can be your avatar. That’s a lot of power. It’s like when I had all the first ones inside of me. It nearly burned up my mother’s body.”

He held out his hands, feeling the patterns in the air and the soil. His heart picked up tempo and warmth spread through his body. With a pulse of energy and a thrum that made the air shudder, he rose up off the ground and hovered on a shimmering column of force. “Lead on,” they said.

The others stared at him with wide eyes.

Wren recovered and pushed into the air vapor trails spiraling from her hands and feet. “Stay high, we haven’t figured out a way to see them yet.”

One by one, the others also rose in pursuit of Wren.

Gaea and he watched them rise, feeling a glowing sensation of pride and excitement. After a few moments of reveling in the sight of her children in flight, they thrust forward after them with a hum of pulsating nola power.

You sure do enjoy this. He thought to Gaea.

<Of course I do! After millions of eons living alone, unable to experience the real world except in vicarious bits, this is so—> She drew an elated breath, heart speeding as they accelerated into the red sky rolling past Senalloy who was bringing up the rear. Their body tingled with a flush of excitement. <Awesome. So—free!>

Just remember I want my body back. It’s the only one I have, so we need to be careful.

<Yes, yes, yes,> she murmured, dismissing his concerns.

The group arced down off the hill and down toward the lake. To Bannor it was unnerving. He didn’t particularly like flying, but he had spent so much time doing it recently that he had become comfortable with it. Being in the air and unable to control their path made the dread come back. Especially with the ecstatic all-mother in charge of their flight, slipping and sweeping around the other savants as they streaked across the lake.

<This flying is great,> Gaea remarked. <I must teach myself to do it!>

Just watch where we’re going please.

Gaea laughed in his mind. <Bannor have we switched roles? Are you my mother now?>

If he had any lungs to draw a breath with he would have sighed.

As they neared the far shore, Gaea swept in and came shoulder-to-shoulder with Wren. “You probably already know this, but it bears mentioning,” she said. “My other children will not be as easy to push around as Dormigor.”

Wren puffed out her cheeks. “Yeah, we know. That’s how Bannor got hurt. My fault really, I thought I was being cautious… and I was way off. We don’t even have a ward that keeps them out. Dor walked right through Ziedra’s and Senalloy’s magical defenses like they were nothing.”

“My children have wondrous abilities, do they not?” Gaea remarked.

Wren frowned. “Yes, but could you get them to work on that temper?”

“If only I could,” Gaea said. “As you see, they misbehave even with their mother. It took considerable persuasion to get them in here. Some may still remember that I trapped them here.”

“Trapped?” Ziedra groaned. “Great, family resentment.”

Wren took them in a wide arc around the depression leading down to the shrine, keeping them some three hundred paces off the ground.

“I find the structure interesting,” Gaea said. “They must not have all held it against me, or they wouldn’t have built that shrine.”

“Let’s just assume they’re hostile—really hostile,” Daena said. “That’s the only sane assumption to make.”

“Mother can you see any of the Lokori?” Ziedra asked.

They slowed and came to a steady hover over the depression. Bannor felt a tingling go through their combined body as Gaea manipulated the nola energies flowing through him. The threads and textures of the cosmos flickered through his vision. After an instant, the forest around the shrine that seemed empty of life became alive with movement.

“There appears to be some two or three score of them in the trees around the clearing,” they reported, swinging around to survey the area below. “The closest are there in that cluster of rocks on the north side.”

“So, there’s no doubt they see us and know we’re here.”

She nodded. “A reasonable assumption.”

“I think the more important thing is if there are any in the shrine.” Azir stated turning in the air to peer down at the entrance far below them. “We should just whip in there and defend the opening while someone knocks a hole in the back.”

“I would support that strategy if they couldn’t phase through the rock,” Gaea informed him. “Given our time constraints, the simplest plan is probably best—a distraction. Bannor and I hold their attention while the rest of you gain entry.”

“Mother, please think about what you just said,” Wren said with hands on hips. “Just you and Bannor against all those killing machines?”

“We’ll parley a little first, then when it gets ugly, which I anticipate it will—we’ll improvise.”

“Not to poke holes in your plan,” Ziedra said. “What if you can’t hold all of their attention and half of them come try to kill us?”

“Defend yourselves,” Gaea responded with a sigh. “I understand lethal force may be necessary. I will not think any less of you if deaths are necessitated by this action. Wait here and I will signal when you should make for the shrine.”

“Gaea, let me watch your back,” Senalloy said gliding over to hover beside her. “This is a lot even for the mother of the first ones.”

Gaea shook her head. “Senalloy, if things do unravel, they will need your experience. Bannor and I have a number of retreat options.”

Senalloy frowned but nodded.

“Ziedra,” Gaea said.

“Yes, Mother?” Ziedra answered.

“Be aware of the protections around the materials cache, they are more than defensive. They will bite back. I’m not close enough to tell in what way. So, a simple bend will not suffice to get you inside.”

Ziedra winced. “A ward break in the middle of a fight—” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, this will be fun.”

“All right,” Gaea told them. “Stay here out of range. I will get them focused on me. Don’t be surprised if it’s a little—showy. I will signal you when they are distracted sufficiently.”

Obviously unhappy, Wren let out a breath and nodded.

Bannor felt a surge of warmth, the all-mother pleasuring in the love of one of her children. They drifted over and put an arm around Wren.

The blonde savant pulled back a little, because it was his body and not Gaea’s. She relaxed after an instant and they hugged her, and placed a kiss on her cheek. “I promise to be careful,” Gaea said. “You do the same.”

Wren dipped her head. “I will. I’m fond of both of you.”

“Okay,” Gaea said, as they drifted back away from the group. “Here we go.” She raised their hands. Bannor felt her focus their energies, pulling in power from the environment and from Starholme itself. Spirals of blue light flickered around his limbs, magic rasping and licking like thunderbolts. His heart speeded and his insides twisted as he felt a familiar icy sensation push through his bones. His arms and legs grew heavy and the armor squeaked as the straps stretched. A crystalline-appearing refraction appeared in the air around them.

Gaea slammed a fist into an armored palm causing an explosion of greenish light that became an intense ball of rasping, sparking power that continued to grow in force. As the power grew, he felt that icy sensation in his limbs pulsing as his already tough flesh took on mass and hardness.

The goddess raised their meshed hands overhead then swung them down. With a thunderous crash, energy jagged down and exploded into the shrine courtyard, annihilating a twenty pace circle of stone.

<Kases and Magas of the Lokori!> They broadcast the thought, through the shaladen. He noticed Wren and the others clutching their heads against the power of the broadcast. It had to be deafeningly loud, with no way to shut out the sound. <I am Bannor Starfist, avatar of Gaea! You have attacked the agents of Gaea and this must not stand. Come to me!>

Gaea let go of the nola power that was keeping them aloft, and they plunged toward the ground some two hundred paces below.

Inwardly, Bannor winced, praying that Gaea knew what she was doing. Even in battle form it seemed like a long way down. His heart already pounding, became an echo in his ears.

They crashed down in the melted crater with the force of a meteor strike, causing a burst of shattered stone, sending cracks shooting through the bedrock. The impact made him catch his balance and he steadied himself with a hand and pushed back to a stand. They dipped into their senses, feeling the textures and lines of force in the environment. The display had definitely got the attention of the Lokori. He felt forms leaping down into the shrine area from the trees.

<Lord, tell me you’re alive,> Wren breathed in private savant speak.

<Shush,> Gaea told her in private telepathy. <Let us focus.>

<If you do not wish to be slain for disrespecting Gaea, you will make yourselves visible. The avatar does not converse with ghosts.>

The Lokori continued to close in from all sides. Not rushing, but Bannor could feel their anger building with every statement they made.

Uh, Mother, is hacking them off part of the plan?

Gaea smiled in his mind. <It got their attention didn’t it?>

Yes, but now they want to kill us!

The nearest Lokori were only a dozen paces away, and none had made themselves visible.

Through their nola sight Gaea picked a target and focused their energies. <If you will not respect our wishes, then we must demonstrate our paa.> Gaea stroked a flourish of hands that ended with a palm thrust toward the nearest Lokori.

Several kinds of nola force struck out at once. The invisible creature let out a howl as it was smashed backward as though hit with a catapult shell, bouncing and making divots in the stone as it tumbled and finally ground to a stop a hundred paces away.

The creatures around them stopped approaching.

<If you are all not visible by the time I count to three, the nearest ten will be punished as we have just done with Kas Illinder.> She pointed their armored hand at the twitching form. <My paa is strong. Do not force me to commit rigi simply to get some courtesy.> They drew a breath. <One—two—thr—>

Lokori faded into view all around them, snarling unhappy faces glaring at them with yellow-eyed hate. Dormigor had been scraggly and thin compared to the lithe muscular bodies of the males and females that stood poised, hands and clenching and unclenching, claws shimmering and glinting in the reddish light.

Unlike Dormigor they did not wear piecemeal clothing, they wore clean blouses, skirts and kilts. Most of the fabric was black, but he saw some that were white, blue, or green.

A female voice growled behind them. “You are no kind of avatar.” With Gaea manifesting at full strength, they had the soulspeak to comprehend the Lokori speech—or perhaps the shaladen had finally figured out how to translate this ancient meta-language.

They turned to face the female who had spoken. Dressed in white with a silver choker close to her throat, she brushed back her blue hair as her golden eyes met their gaze. Bannor realized instantly that this was the Lokori that had nearly killed him. He felt Gaea note that. “So, Maga Bhaal, you do not believe our jhin. Is then our paa so weak?”

Bhaal tossed her head, teeth gritting and eyes narrow. “I did not trifle your paa, only that you speak false jhin. I have tasted your blood. You have much paa. My ragi was well struck.”

“If he is not the green mother’s avatar,” one of the other Lokori asked. “How does he sooth our names?”

“A good question Kas Momar,” Gaea responded. “How indeed? There must be some explanation, right, Kas Woden,” she gestured toward another male. “Perhaps you know the answer Maga Chind, or you Kas Indra, or you Maga Kali.”

In their mind, Gaea reached out to Wren with savant speak. <It looks like I might get through to them. Don’t take chances though, get into position. Stealth yourselves and get to that opening.>

They felt Wren acknowledge and saw the others fade out above them.

Bhaal did not seem moved by Gaea’s naming of names. Bannor found it ironic that what they disbelieved was in fact truth. Their combined savant senses made the positions of the different Lokori clear and distinct. The creatures had closed the gap, they were subtly, but methodically, hemming them in and getting within striking range. He felt Gaea acknowledge what he had discerned.

Bhaal seemed to be the key, if they could convince her, they might be able to sway the Lokori into a non-violent solution. “Maga Bhaal, daughter of Kas Rudin and Maga Sylene, you are kaa of steel and your brother Torth is kaa of storms. Who else but the green mother would know this?”

Bhaal tilted her head. She pointed to the band on his arm. “The morid-paa of Eternity is known to us. Its mind rho is paa of the highest order.”

They might have been trapped in here but that didn’t stop them from looking out—or maybe they weren’t as trapped as you thought.

<That’s occurring to me,> Gaea responded. <Strange, I never sensed them outside.>

She focused on Bhaal. She relaxed the power of her voice and spoke in softer tones. “The morid-paa is merely a conduit to allow my manifestation through the gord-rho of the ancestors. We—I—want little from the followers of true kaa save a small boon that will cost neither paa or vhaa.”

Bannor noted through his ties to Wren and the others that they had entered the shrine. The Lokori were dangerously close now. With their unbelievable speed they could close the gap in an eye-blink even with the obstacle of the disrupted ground around them. None had dared to step into the fused crater created by Gaea’s blast.

Bhaal folded her arms, long-nailed fingers drumming on her biceps. “So, this boon you desire,” Bhaal asked. “Speak it.”

He felt Gaea draw a breath. “The ancestor’s left a special gord-kiri in this place we—”

Bhaal cut them off. “None outside the followers of the true kaa will touch the rho of the ancestors. The paa there is forbidden. Ragi will be put upon all who attempt to take from it.” She looked back to the shrine, eyes glinting. “All.”

Ah spit, they’re on to us!

Gaea sent a warning thought to all of the savants. <Beware!>

<Damn,> Gaea growled in his mind. <I did not want to do this!> They raised a foot, focused their nola power and stomped. Super-dense flesh impacted the rock discharging a blast of elemental force that made the stone ripple outward like the violent waves of a boulder dropped in a pond.

Lokori all around them were bowled over and sent careening back. They leaped into the air, smashing aside two of the dozen or so that avoided the stone attack.

They landed on the rim of melted rock, hands patterning in the G-yaki combat ritual as blue-haired Lokori charged toward them.

In his flesh, Bannor felt Gaea shudder. For the good of all, she would have to shed the blood of her grand children.

Tears streaming down their face, hands shuddering and balled into fists, they awaited the rain of talons that would come…

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Chapter Sixteen

We did what had to be done and it broke
my heart because I know how much it hurt
her. Gaea loves all her children, and to take
even one life, no matter how misguided was
agony…
—Bannor Nalthane Starfist,
Prince Conjugal of Malan

Like a shrieking pack of animals, the Lokori lanced straight at Bannor. Tears in their eyes, hands poised, the senses of scores of savants whirling through their psyche he and Gaea felt the cold chill of realization. With bellows of holy ragi on their lips, they knew nothing would sway the Lokori now. All that remained was to survive so they could be one step closer to making the cosmos safe from the genemar.

With a cry of anguish, Gaea plunged their diamond hard body forward, summoning the elements of air, fire, and stone to drive a wedge into the onslaught. Waves of stone, blasts of wind and fire knocked down the blue-haired followers of true kaa and sent them tumbling across the floor of the shrine amphitheatre. She was not gentle, they couldn’t afford to be.

Riding a wave of force, they hissed over the heads of the creatures racing to intercept the other savants. A heartbeat later they came to a grinding stop on the raised granite platform surrounding the shrine entrance. A swing of their arms caused a roar of stone to erupt upward into a twenty pace high barrier of jagged rock surrounding the stage. The blast of transforming stone knocked blue-haired bodies in all directions. The few that slipped inside, she snatched up with flurries of air and hurled them shrieking back over the barricade.

<A little haste would be in order!> they broadcast to all the savants.

<Mother!> Ziedra called back. <I can’t break the seal. It doesn’t respond to Wren’s key and the defense is too strong to tunnel through.>

<How—> They slapped out with a gale of air, knocking three Lokori back as they came over the top of their fortification. <—typical.> They felt the ether bend as Lokori began to phase through the shielding rock. The first couple she flung back by yanking on their threads of reality, but they felt more disruptions in the ether, more than they could handle at one time. <Does anything ever go right for you children?>

Not in recent memory, he responded. Gaea growled in his head. <Bannor, it was a rhetorical question.> To Wren and the others she sent, <Get back from the ward. Wren and Ziedra, make the strongest shield you can. This will be big.>

They knocked a few more intruders back, but they would have to divert their attention from the defense to cracking the ward.

<Ready!> Wren called the thought.

Bannor’s heart pounded and it was getting difficult to breathe. They consumed a lot of energy, even for this immort body. They dispelled a few more Lokori from the area but Bannor sensed Gaea’s growing panic. While in avatar form, she possessed the abilities of dozens of savants, but not the poise granted from constant exposure to fighting and stress. With her powerful intellect she deduced solutions and reacted at speed, but the windows of opportunity were shrinking. To avoid killing any of her children, Gaea had burned through a tremendous amount of endurance. The gesture was lost on the Lokori, the blue-haired inheritors of first one power would keep on until they were either slain or incapacitated.

Gaea stomped down into a low stance making the ground shake, stone swarming around their feet and calves, a tornado of wind shrieked into being around them, tongues of lightning licked from their skin as she called upon the power of Starholme and focused down into the threads of reality.

Power building, she patterned with their fists, doing an intricate flourish of movements that ended in a clap of hands. She drew back.

<Here it comes!>

She struck.

The outer shell of stone that was the shrine disintegrated in a roar as their beam of concentrated magic, nola, and elemental energy scorched a path of annihilation into the ward of the first ones.

Compared to this attack, the blast that felled Odin’s High Jury was the pop of a soap bubble. Only the fact that Wren and Ziedra were working together and braced by the power of Starholme kept them from being consumed. The stroke leveled the stone massif behind the shrine and volatized a hundred-pace wide swath of the lake into billowing clouds of flaming vapor.

The hemi-spherical construct of metal and force beneath the rock resisted the blaze, streamers of energy coruscating and screaming as they splashed around the resisting surfaces into the atmosphere. The ward shields went cherry-red, then white-hot and finally black as Gaea’s assault overwhelmed them in a violent heave.

Bannor staggered, only held up by the stone encasing his legs. Pebbles and globules of melted stone plinked and plunked around the area from high in the sky. A black sphere that was the force shield around Wren and the others blinked out and the savants along with Senalloy staggered out clutching their ears and dodging through the rain of flaming debris. Wren and Ziedra were being carried, Wren by Azir and Ziedra by Daena. Apparently, just protecting themselves and the others had taken every iota of strength they possessed. Even so, the metal bunker itself had been barely blemished by the incredible blow laid against it. The energy only succeeded in knocking down the shields and destroying the rock concealing it.

Bannor clutched his chest, heart fluttering and lungs tight. He never imagined actually hitting the limits of a second generation immortal body, but he and Gaea had slammed into that limit so hard stars spun in his vision.

Oh, ow. Gaea struggled to catch their breath. <My children certainly build well. It almost didn’t break.> To the others she thought, <Hurry! We’ll try—try to keep the Lokori—back.>

Behind them they heard a snarl. The sound made a cold shiver go through his body. They had no nola energy left. Gaea was practically numb from the effort of controlling his body through the shaladen, and then directing such a huge amount of power. An unthinkable distance away in Kul’Amaron, he felt Gaea staggering, her physical body spent in the efforts expended here.

The all-mother had relinquished much of her control so Bannor pushed his consciousness up and slammed his power stiffened body into motion. The stone bracing his legs shattered as he grabbed the shaladen off his wrist and willed it into the form of axes and patterned into a fighting stance.

A dozen Lokori crouched just inside the wall. Hands curved into talons, they swayed back and forth, clothing singed and covered with soot. Among them was Bhaal, the female that nearly killed him.

Hard eyes glared at him, brows furrowed and teeth bared. Now, he saw a new emotion.

Fear.

They were hesitating, gazes darting around, scanning the devastated area. Gaea’s attack had turned a hill of rock almost a hundred paces high into a smoldering swath of melted and shattered stone. Even being in the body that did the damage, he found it hard to believe.

A shriek of metal made him look back. The rest of the team had pried open the vault-like doors of the storage bunker.

The noise catalyzed the Lokori, the uncertainty in their expressions vanished. Two shifted forward.

“Don’t,” he pointed his axe at them. He was surprised to find that there was any of Gaea left in him. He sounded stronger than he was though. “Gaea must have things from that place. It is our mission.”

“It is our mission to guard the items of the ancestors.”

“Your mission for Gaea. I am Gaea—well, her avatar anyway.”

“Your paa is strong, but you are not the avatar of Gaea,” one of the males said.

“Please,” he groaned. “Don’t do this. It will make Mother very unhappy. We do this at her request. We are her children… you, me, we are all her children.”

The Lokori paused for a moment, then rushed to go past him at the bunker doors where Senalloy was disappearing inside.

Bannor stepped back and to one side into the path of the Lokori with his weapons raised.

The creature halted and snarled, raising infinitely sharp claws.

Bannor stared ahead. He felt Gaea’s power still swirling through him, and the knowledge of the combat savants tickling behind his eyes. He didn’t have nola power, but he did have shaladen strength and speed—its power possessed no practical limit.

“Please,” he tried again, putting force and intention into the word. He didn’t even know if these war-like creatures even understood what it meant to plead. There were so many reasons not to fight much less kill. They were down to their last options though. Making their own genemar was the only viable plan they had to stop the Daergons and the Baronians. If they didn’t stop those rogue Kriar, it could possibly mean the destruction of entire worlds full of people. One life, his life, was nothing weighed against that.

He glanced over his shoulder, only a few handfuls of heartbeats had passed since Wren and the others had slipped inside, but it seemed like an eternity. He sensed the floodgate getting ready to open. Despite the truth of the situation, the Lokori were not willing to accept the agents of Gaea.

Bannor drew a breath seeing the muscles in Lokori’s arms and legs tense. These creatures possessed phenomenal speed but were not particularly subtle about disguising their intent. Their fighting was based on a flurry of attacks struck from every conceivable direction at the highest possible speed. It was numbers. Something would get through if the fight lasted long enough. With those claws, it didn’t take much to cripple an enemy.

He did not make the mistake he made with Bhaal. He struck the instant he saw the Lokori male commit. Ducking and spinning to bring the back of his axe against the ribs exposed even as the creature’s claws raked through the air above him.

The blunt side of the shaladen struck bone. A crack that sounded like a tree bough snapping echoed through the area as his weapon powered by tons of battleform mass caved in the creature’s side and knocked it skidding across the turf.

Bannor’s stomach churned as the Lokori thrashed and coughed in agony. He focused, struggling to harden his heart. He switched his footing and flourished with the axes and glared at the remaining Lokori. Behind his eyes, generations of G’Yakki hummed, studying body language, building contingencies and preparing to act.

Without really thinking, he let out a low growl that made the stone underfoot shudder. “Damn you, I would rather cut myself than hurt Gaea. Every strike against you is a strike against her!”

Bhaal sniffed, claws flaring with elemental power. “Then accept my ragi and die.”

He sighed, feeling Gaea moan in despair. Her children were lost in their hatred and mistrust of other creatures. It was probably best that he was in control now. He didn’t know if it had come to it if she could have killed. As it was, being this close to it would be painful.

Bhaal streaked forward as did half a dozen others.

With a yell of frustration, he waded into the fray. This time he was not off guard, he was in battle form with Gaea’s entire being serving as his nola. Speed could only avail the Lokori so much. As they whirled around him claws flashing, they learned. The Kriar armor had not protected him before because the flesh underneath was soft. As an avatar of Gaea, his flesh had become harder and denser than steel. It would take more than a glancing blow to do him significant damage, and to gouge him deeply would take a solid hit.

The Lokori had no fear and a complete disdain for his ability to fight back. With Vera and the skills of the G’Yakki guiding his movements the sluggishness of his battleform was little hindrance. A quarter-step and a lean cut the corner between himself and one of the males that found itself folded around an anvil hard knee. Axe flats, fists, elbows, knees and shoulders he pivoted through them driving home punishing blows as claws raked and bit at his armor and skin.

As the tenth Lokori went down, he knew there was no way for him to revert back to flesh. The gouges that merely slowed this monolithic battleshape would have him dead of blood loss in a few long breaths.

“Hurry up in there!” he bellowed. He felt a strike score on his back and pivoted to deal with the threat. He realized then that more Lokori had joined the fray, and in the distance he saw scores more pressing in from the surrounding trees.

Oh spit.

He danced through his enemies, landing incapacitating blows and taking hits in return. Even with all the skills of the G’Yakki masters it was impossible to avoid every swing. Not with this tons-heavy body that lacked flexibility of any sort. Only the truly miraculous skills of the battle-savants had kept him from losing an arm or leg to the irresistible sharpness of Lokori talons.

Bodies thrashed and whirled around him. Blood splattered over him as the Lokori in their fury to get at him began cutting one another. Out of the corner of his eye he saw half a dozen blue-haired warriors disappear through the bunker doors.

<Watch yourselves,> he cried into the minds of the other savants. <Some got past me. Hurry the frell up!>

<Acknowledged. We’re hurrying as fast we can,> Wren responded. <We’re about half done.>

<Leg it, they’re all over me!>

He felt himself slowing down. Even battleform had limits to how much damage it could sustain. The air churned with blood, the Lokori ravaging each other in their lust to take his life. Lokori battle shrieks, and the screams of the dying smote the air. He had tried to avoid taking their lives and in their frenzy, they ended up slaughtering each other.

Inside him, he felt Gaea cringing, wanting to pull away but unwilling to withdraw and leave him to die.

A shriek of pain went up Bannor’s spine—a deep hit. His metal heart pounded. He sucked air with galvanized lungs. He slammed the two halves of the shaladen together fusing it into a single long staff and brought it around slamming bodies away from him to clear a space.

He staggered and slipped on the blood-soaked stone, hearing bones crunch as he tripped over the bodies of the dead, injured, and dying. A few dozen steps seemed like a marathon. He forged forward, slamming aside hurtling bodies and making for the bunker entrance.

<Bannor,> Gaea moaned in his mind. <Just run away. You’ve done what you could.>

<I have to—have to stand—stand my ground. The others aren’t out yet.>

He yelled as another hot slash raked his back and another on his side. He elbowed and spun, slapping away the creatures trying to trip him up and bear him to the ground. If he fell, they would chop him up like dinner scraps.

Bannor stumbled at the threshold to the bunker, his shoulder clanging against the adamantine surface. Vision going gray, he turned in the narrow space and formed the shaladen into a tower shield. He had no energy left to fight back. He hoped the others could deal with the few that had gotten inside because he couldn’t handle them now. He felt like a piece of meat mauled by broadpaw.

A few Lokori foolishly tried to phase through the shaladen. The blue-haired creatures were instantly punished by the power of Eternity, knocked sprawling as tongues of magic licked and rasped around their twitching limbs.

He hung on, shaladen metal shrieking as ultra-sharp claws raked at the surface of the shield. When Bhaal had attacked him, Xersis had given way because the metal had not yet fully taken shape. Even now, he wondered how long Xersis could hold up against the onslaught. Gritting his teeth, he clung to consciousness, driving attackers back and avoiding groping claws seeking to get at him around his defensive barrier. He could close the door, but then they couldn’t teleport out. They would have to open that gap again to get out and then they would be vulnerable to whatever assault the Lokori prepared in the meantime.

From deeper in the bunker he heard yells and blasts, his friends seemed to have their hands full as well.

The Lokori piled on, trying to swarm over the shield and get into the bunker. Dots spinning in his vision, he thrust them back only to have steely claws cling to the edges, trying to hold the shield away from the door threshold.

Heart thundering and chest aching, he hauled the shield back, dragging a dozen Lokori with him. Arms, legs, and torso scored by dozens of strikes he looked and felt like sparring dummy left too long at the lists. With a heave, he slammed the shield up and down and side-to-side against the door opening to dislodge the growling Lokori furiously trying to pull him out of the bunker. He planted a foot against the frame and anchored himself. He looked down again and noticed that black liquid was leaking down his arms and legs. His battleform was actually bleeding. How did metal bleed? It was all a nightmare—one he wouldn’t wake up from if they didn’t get out of here.

“Wren!” he hollered as loud as he could muster.

<On our way!> the blonde savant called back. <A bunch more got past you!>

<What? Spit!> There must have been another entrance into the bunker he didn’t see. <Just get up here so I can get us out!>

<We’re—trying! They are—frelling—all over—us!>

He drove a fist into the face of male Lokori trying to climb over his shield, and hauled the edge back. He knew how that felt.

<Star!> he yelled the thought into the shaladen. <Get some help. I’m going to need you to pull us all out fast.>

<Already preparing,> her thought came back. <I was getting ready to pull you out whether you wanted to come or not—stubborn man.>

He shook the shield, trying to dislodge opponents. <Now—is not—the time!> His whole body felt on fire. One of those strikes to his back must have hit something vital.

Hiding behind the shield he turned sideways to try and get a glimpse of what was within the bunker. The Lokori continued to pound away at his barricade as he took furtive glances into the darkness behind the opening. He saw nothing significant, only a corridor slanting down into darkness.

A massive blow against the shield knocked him back a step forcing him to focus back on his guarding. That little bit of space was all his enemies needed. His already pounding heart went into a frenzy, and an icy fist clenched in his gut as he saw two warriors dive over the top of his shield and into the corridor.

The word ‘frell’ started repeating in his head over and over.

Frell. Not good, if he swung the shield around he would get diced into tiny pieces. He slammed the shield outward, slapping aside a claw that came at his head, ducking and kicking to drive the warriors in the corridor back. Frell. He shook the shield blocking another Lokori trying to come over the top. Frell! He leaped over a slash aimed to take out his leg. FRELL!

Only several dozen millennia of G’Yakki instincts kept his head and limbs from getting sheared off by a whirlwind of attacks.

“Aie!” He yelled as claws scored on his torso and leg causing the streams of black blood already flowing down his arms and legs to increase. Since his days as a green recruit, his fear of dying had been blunted, but the prospect of getting shredded made a panic explode through him. “Guys, get up here—NOW!”

He just didn’t have the strength to keep dodging these death machines.

Gaea forgive me.

It was obvious that while the Lokori did get so wild that they hurt each other, in general, they seemed aware of the danger of getting in each other’s way. The G’Yakki in Bannor felt the rhythm of the fight and slapped a slash aimed at his midsection in a deflection toward the other Lokori.

Blood splashed as irresistible claws scored on unprotected flash. Pain and surprise made an opening. Bannor drove a fist into the creature’s torso at full strength.

Despite Lokori flexibility and speed, the cramped foyer didn’t allow enough maneuvering space to avoid the wall-crushing power of the attack. The blue-haired creature smashed back and splayed up against the solid metal bulkhead with a crunch. It slid down with a mushy slurp leaving a series of scratches as its claws dragged down the wall.

It made Bannor sick inside, these creatures were of his blood—his family. Slashed deep by his partner, the other Lokori was injured and slowed.

Bannor was too hurt and weakened himself to be delicate or use any finesse. The injured Lokori’s next attack was a finishing move. He came down on the arm, his hammering fist pulverizing flesh and shattering bone.

The enemy howled and clutched his mangled arm and lurched back.

Bannor didn’t wait, he flourished and punched. The power of the strike stabbed out a pace from the end of his reach and thundered home in the warrior’s chest and flattened him against the wall with a crack of breaking bones.

More hits rattled his shield at the same instant, knocking him off balance. Knowing what was coming, he pounded back two of the bodies trying to slip inside, but a third managed to thrash and squeeze through into the space.

Damn, why couldn’t they just stop? The world was getting hazy. He simply didn’t have enough strength left to fight both sides of this doorway. As he wrestled the shield, he realized the new intruder was female.

Bhaal.

The Lokori female crouched in the corridor panting, she hadn’t moved to strike yet, but she would. Her gaze tracked to the two other warriors smashed against the bulkhead, her glowing eyes narrowed and she growled.

Bhaal’s body tensed. He braced, but didn’t think he would have the power necessary to fend off another battle-crazed Lokori.

He drew a breath. Where the frell were Wren and the others? His mind reached out briefly to Sarai, and he felt her panic. She was trying to summon him but he had the shaladen blocked, he refused to be pulled out until the others were here to come with him. He felt Gaea squirming in fear.

The instants stretched out like an eternity; each thud and scratch of the enemies trying to force past the shaladen shield, the labored beats of his slowing heart, and the throbbing pulse of blood oozing from deep lacerations.

The attack that came whistling at him was as inevitable as the setting sun. Seeing him weakened and ready to collapse obviously made Bhaal over-confident and over-eager. The slash at his throat was a tiny bit too wide and a heartbeat too slow, a lean and a slipping block sent Bhaal’s devastating claws skipping across the surface of his skin, adding four more furrows to the host of gouges already marring his body. He reversed the block and shoved the female off balance and sent her sliding down the corridor.

Damn, he was tired. The world was jumping around. His back felt like a herd of horses were running him over. It was by Gaea’s will he was still moving.

He kept his attention on the shield, he’d bought himself another few moments. Sarai was screaming at him to let her summon him out. Gaea was crying and frightened. She’d never been inside one of her children dying. He felt sorry for both of them but he wouldn’t abandon the others especially when so many lives counted on their success.

Bhaal picked herself up off the floor, glowing eyes burning like flame. Her claws gleamed with elemental fire, winking in the reddish light coming through the spaces around his shield in the bunker doorway.

Bannor didn’t think he’d get lucky again. This next assault would do it. She would most certainly hit something vital with another pass. He couldn’t adequately guard the door and focus on her at the same time. There was an entire pack of angry monsters in front of him, and only one behind.

Sarai, Gaea, he said to the voices demanding and pleading with him. If you keep at me, I know for certain I’m going to die. At least let me focus. Give me a chance.

They both went silent.

When Bhaal lunged, his mind was quiet, he saw her movement out of the corner of his eye. He knew there was no way to avoid her, he simply had nothing left.

Bhaal came for his heart. His left shoulder and arm were bound inside the shield which was receiving the relentless pounding of the enemies outside. To hit that target she had to come close to the bunker wall.

Rather than try to block or deflect the strike, he let the mass of his metal-like body do the work, he leaned in, smothering her against the wall. The weight and drag of mashing the female against the hard surface brought her claws up short, even as they tore through the plates of his armor and gouged the skin below.

He grunted, actually feeling pain as ultra-sharp nails ripped his flesh.

Bannor tried to smash her against the wall, but Bhaal spun away before he could get a solid grip on her. She crouched on the ground panting.

He faced her, knowing that to kill him all she really needed to do was wait a little longer. The wounds would do the job for her given time.

Somehow he didn’t think patience was a Lokori virtue.

Bannor knew he should be dead. He’d already gotten lucky two more times than he should have. He wondered now if Wren and the others hadn’t already been killed. He didn’t feel it happen, but then he couldn’t feel much now.

The room flickered and his knees started to buckle. Damn, he couldn’t give up. He needed to last a little longer.

Bhaal tensed and sprang. As the claws came for his throat he took solace in the fact it would only hurt for an instant…

The Lokori’s hurtling body jerked to a stop in mid-air then did a savage left-turn straight in the bunker wall with a thud.

He heard Daena growl, her voice echoing with immortal force. “Get away from him, you witch!”

They weren’t dead.

Good.

The auburn haired ascendant thundered to his side. She was in battleshape as well. Her armor and skin looked like a mongrel’s chew toy. She grabbed hold of his shield with one hand and slammed a punch into it with the other. The ether and air around them pulsed and the Lokori swarming all over his shield exploded away from the blast of nola force.

Daena pulled back from him and saw the streaks of black down her front. “Oh spit, Bannor!” She turned to look down the corridor. “Wren, hurry the frell up!”

“That’s what I’ve been saying for—” He coughed. “—For a while now.”

“Damn, damn, damn,” Daena mumbled. “Those warriors will be back any moment. Give me the shield.”

“Xersis,” he murmured to the weapon. “Allow her to hold you.”

He staggered against the entrance way and slid the shield off. The bodies of more than a dozen dead Lokori lay sprawled around the threshold, killed by their own comrades in their frenzy of trying to break through his barricade.

Daena’s glowing green eyes went wide as she saw the carnage, and she paled a little. She took the shield from him and slid it on her arm. The normally impervious metal was gouged and scratched by power of Lokori claws. Daena closed her eyes and her shape shifted with slurp of transforming flesh, she grew taller and thicker and the metal underfoot creaked as she gathered mass. She gently shifted Bannor out of the way and arranged herself to hold the door.

“Lean on me if you need to,” she said. As she finished her words, a strike hammered against the shield. The girl winced but didn’t move, as several more hits began vibrating the metal. “Spit—how do those little bodies hit so hard?”

Bannor wanted to sit down but knew if he did he wouldn’t be able to stand up, and no-one would be able to get him up. He took Daena’s suggestion and leaned into the curve of her now larger body.

The girl put an arm around him protectively. “Gods, you’re a mess.” She looked back down the corridor. “We have to get you out of here to a healer.” The shield continued to rattle as more hits were laid against it. “Where the frell are they?! I would have sworn Wren was right behind me!”

A movement in the corridor caught Bannor’s attention. He focused in that direction and saw Bhaal’s body twitch. As hard as Daena mashed her into that solid metal wall and the Lokori had only been stunned.

An icy sense of disquiet shivered through him as the Lokori shook her head, tremors going through her lithe body.

Stay down. Please, just stay down.

“Gack,” Daena murmured, rocking her head. “Sarai is madder than a wet wyvern. She calmed down a little when she realized that you aren’t dead and that I’m holding the shaladen… but she still wants to chew someone’s tail off.”

He sighed. “My heart is beating, but I am dead—” He groaned. “Sooo dead.”

Daena gasped as something exploded against the shield making the both of them shift forward a bit. “Spit! What was that?”

“Don’t look,” he said with a cough. “If you—if you show enough of your face to see, you’ll lose your head.”

Bhaal pitched over to hands and knees, shoulders shaking. Daena was focused on the narrow door opening and hadn’t noticed the movement. Bannor hoped they were out of here before the Lokori recovered. Vicious or not, enough of their ancestors had died already. If Daena hit her with another blast she probably would die.

He kept his eye on the female as more hits battered the shield held by Daena, making the two of them shake with the force. Like him the young savant was forced to dodge claws swung around the edges.

The main difference was Daena had energy left—energy she put to use. She drew a breath. “This is going to hurt them a lot more than us.” The atmosphere shuddered under the impact of her nola being unleashed.

Lokori erupted away from the opening as Daena took control of the metal in their bodies and flung them away.

The corridor behind them flared bright, illuminated by a blaze that rocked the structure. Out of the bright light pounded Azir, carrying a shielded container under each arm. Behind him Wren was also carrying two containers. Ziedra and Senalloy, swords out and hands upraised were firing spells into the corridor behind them.

“What the hell happened to you?” Daena demanded. “Bannor is almost dead!”

“I’m not—” Azir panted as he skidded to a stop. “Not feeling—so good—myself.” Like Daena and himself, Wren’s brother was in battle shape and he looked like some giant cat had been using him for a scratching post.

Wren slid to stop next to her brother panting. The normally impervious savant of forces looked like she’d been swimming through a briar patch. “Bannor!” She gasped as she slid to a stop. “When Zee and Sen get here, pull us all out, there’s a frelling army of Lokori chasing us!”

With an effort that made his whole body creak, he reached out and touched the shaladen. <Star,> he sent to his wife-to-be. <Be ready to pull us out, when I give the word—go.>

<My One, I’m going to kill you when I see you…>

He sighed. <I knew that.> He looked around. “Make sure everyone is touching either me or Daena.”

Wren took one of her containers by the handle and held the other under her arm, then took hold of his belt. Her brother did the same, touching Daena’s shoulder.

Bannor looked down the corridor as Senalloy and Ziedra raced toward them. He’d never seen the Baronian woman run so fast.

“Grab hold—we’re gone!” Wren urged as the two rushed up.

He felt Senalloy take his arm and saw Ziedra slide up and grab Daena’s belt.

<Star—> A movement from the far side of the corridor made his heart jump as a silhouette launched toward him. <Get us out… get us out now!>

Bannor felt something hit his neck even as the power of the shaladen engulfed them and yanked the group into the void of transition space…

Return to Contents

Chapter Seventeen

How does metal flesh hurt? Very well,
thank you…
—Bannor Nalthane Starfist,
Prince Conjugal of Malan

The disorienting trip through nulltime made lights spin in Bannor’s vision, if anything, being in battleform made the transition worse. His metallic body felt like it was being ripped open as they were thrust out of blackness and back into the familiar surroundings of the council chambers.

The details of the room did not get a chance to come into focus for him because the shock of being pulled through the shaladen hit him as though he’d been pounded in the stomach with a mattock.

He heard Wren and the others in battle form make similar sounds of distress but focused on his own discomfort that caused him to drop to the stone floor with a thud, clutching his stomach.

As he dropped, he was vaguely aware of motion and excitement near him. Gasping for breath, it took an instant to realize that the silhouette he had seen coming toward him back at Starholme came with him when Sarai transported the group.

Livid glowing eyes stared at him from beneath a furrowed brow. Fangs bared, the female Lokori had one hand around his throat, free hand talons out and poised to kill. Only the surprise and disorientation of being yanked through space had kept her from landing the finishing strike.

“Oh ow, wha—whoa!” Daena’s disoriented complaint turned into surprise as she realized that they had inadvertently brought a hostile with them.

In his line of view, Bannor saw the normally impassive Eclipse and Quasar curse and jump back, yanking out weapons.

“My One, I—” Sarai stopped as the Lokori who was within arm’s reach of her let out a snarl.

“Spit,” Wren uttered, dropping her canisters on the floor and taking a fighting stance.

Bannor’s already racing heart seemed to shudder. He recognized more than a dozen figures in the room. If the Lokori went into a frenzy, she could kill more than half of them before anyone even recognized the danger. He thrust his hand out and grabbed her by the throat.

That snapped her attention away from Sarai. With a yowl, she plunged her claws for his chest.

“BHAAL!!!” A female voice burst out, making the whole room quiver with its force. The sound made the Lokori cringe and clutch her ears.

Growling, she sent a glare toward the emanation. Gaea stood only a short distance away, green skin glowing and jewel eyes shining. The all mother’s glistening mass of dark hair stirred as though in a strong wind. Her round face, normally open and inviting, was set in an angry scowl that made a stab go through Bannor’s chest.

The Lokori moved as though she might break away and start causing havoc. He tightened his grip on her throat.

The pressure made the blue-haired female let out a guttural sound. She gripped his arm and brought her claws around.

“BHAAL!!!” Gaea boomed again, storming forward.

The female Lokori reeled back and gripped her ears, shaking her head and writhing like she was hurt. With an animalistic snarl she fought through it and aimed her claws at him again.

“BHAAL!!!” The last word was accompanied by a back-hand that knocked Lokori woman sliding across the floor to slam into the wall. The green mother brushed back her hair and glared at the creature with hands on hips. “Never have I ever had such a stubborn child. LISTEN!”

Shaking her head, Bhaal got to hands and knees and focused burning eyes on the all-mother.

“Gaea, you can’t reason with a dark-blasted Lokori!” Eclipse shouted in a voice more emotional than Bannor had ever heard it. The sight of Lokori had shaken both him and Quasar.

The goddess stabbed a finger at the Kriar warrior. “You will be silent.”

Bhaal shifted forward, gaze darting to the King, Queen, Janai, and Ryelle on one side of the room, Wren’s parents, Loric, Cassandra, Megan, Octavia and Wysteri on the other. Bannor sensed her selecting a path, and knew wherever she went, death would follow. Even if he wanted to do something, he could barely keep his head up. Daena was all that kept him from falling in a heap. In the stoic silence of the room, he heard a dripping sound. He looked down and saw black fluid pooling on the floor around his knees.

Gaea sniffed. “Bhaal, I swear if you so much as twitch from that spot you will rue your creation.”

The Lokori scowled at her, gaze continuing to dart around the surroundings.

Gaea glanced back to him then to the two Kriar healers. “Octavia, Wysteri, attend Bannor immediately. I will ensure you are not bothered.”

Gazes locked on Bhaal, the two mecha ladies rushed over to him and crouched down. Red-haired Octavia made unhappy clucking sounds as she probed his body with her strange rainbow eyes.

He winced as the healer started disentangling the mangled mess of his shredded armor and clothing. Sarai knelt down at his side. His wife-to-be sucked a breath. “Lords…” she murmured in empathy, biting her lip. She touched the top of his head, one of the few parts of his body that wasn’t injured.

“We can’t have him revert,” Wysteri murmured. “The shock will kill him before I can get a stabilizer in him.”

“Bannor,” Octavia said after a few moments. “I think this body is a loss. I think we’ll have to stasis it, and transfer you to a new one.”

“You mean,” he coughed. “I’m done—I’m dead?”

“You will be if you don’t get out of that body before it expires. It’s too heavy for us to get you in a transformation chamber in time. You must immediately disassociate your tao. I must stasis the body to preserve your core.”

He shuddered. It made sense. He closed his eyes and focused down into himself. He hoped there was enough of his tao left to make the transformation. As he focused down into himself, he realized there was a great deal more of his tao essence left than he had possibly hoped. The massive battle as Gaea’s avatar had strengthened his crippled tao considerably. Feeling his battle form going still around him, he turned his will inside out and freed himself from the body. He felt himself emerge into the air above his body.

It felt cold. It never felt cold before. He realized his body had only instants to live. The icy sensation started growing worse.

<Done,> he thought to Octavia.

The mecha nodded and beam of greenish light flashed out of her eyes and engulfed the bleeding metallic form.

The chilly sensation remained, but stopped growing.

“My One?” Sarai said looking up at him.

<I—I’m okay,> he looked down at her. <Well, not okay, but…> He sighed. <Damn, I finally did it. I can’t believe it. I killed myself.>

“Dead men don’t talk,” Wren remarked. “You’re just corporeally inconvenienced.”

<Oh sure, make a joke about it,> he snapped the thought at her. <You still have a body!>

“Bannor, be still,” Gaea growled. “You didn’t die. I did not give you permission to die.”

He looked toward the all-mother. The statement would have been funny if she had not been so serious. Past Gaea, crouched on the floor Bhaal’s snarling visage had gone from one of rage to one of awe. She stared at him as he hovered over his collapsed body.

“He is prime kaa!” Bhaal let out in a raspy voice. Her speech was perfectly understandable! The accent was strange and thick but otherwise clear. The soul-speak wasn’t as limited as Senalloy had thought. They simply hadn’t chosen to communicate.

Gaea rocked her head back. “Fool Daughter, what has he been saying all along?!”

The Lokori female drew back, arms crossed in front of herself. She made a whimpering sound. “Then you are really…???” The Lokori’s face bleached out as the realization struck home. The goddess, the one that they worshipped, had been yelling at her. She cast her eyes down. “Followers of false kaa speak only tainted jhin,” Bhaal murmured. “Their ways of deception are many, they cannot be trusted.” She raised glowing eyes to Gaea, lower lip trembling. “You said so.”

Gaea’s shoulders rounded down, suddenly the goddess looked very tired. She massaged the bridge of her nose. “Bhaal, we named the true names, spoke the word. What more proof did you need!”

The blue haired female swallowed and shook her head in bewilderment. “You said trust nothing, only accept those whom you told us to accept. Those words our written in the stones…” Her lip quivered. “Were written.”

“I couldn’t send, I—” the goddess clenched her fists in frustration.

“Mother,” Wren said, walking up and taking her shoulder. “It’s okay, it was a mistake.”

“Daughter, this was far more than a mistake. It was a travesty. My own children killed each other trying to carry out orders I gave them a thousand millennia ago.”

“So, like what are we going to do with her?” Daena asked looking up at his floating form. “She killed Bannor.”

<Well, not her alone,> he murmured the thought. <She had a little help…> He studied his now useless body. He still couldn’t believe it. He had stood toe-to-toe with dreadnaughts and Baronians and came out nearly unscathed.

Gaea raised a hand. “Stop. Just—stop.” The goddess’ voice lost its powerful echo. She rubbed her temples. “Bhaal.”

The Lokori blinked glowing eyes at her. “Yes, Mother.”

“Stand up.”

The blue-haired creature looked around and straightened into a standing position.

“Sheath your claws.”

The female raised her chin. She looked at Gaea for a moment. With a rasp the shimmering aura around her hands and body flickered out with a snap.

“Bhaal, you are forbidden ragi unless I expressly grant it. You may not ragi even if you are challenged. Your claws shall remain sheathed unless I so grant. Do you understand?”

The Lokori gripped her chest like a boulder was coming to crush her. “Mother?”

“Do you understand?” Gaea repeated.

“I—”

“Bhaal, I gave you those claws—” Gaea’s voice lowered and she lowered her chin. “—and true kaa. What was given can be taken away.”

The Lokori’s eyes widened. “Ah, y-y-yes Mother, I understand.”

She held out her hand. “Come here.”

The blue-haired female slunk over and stopped in front of Gaea.

Gaea put a hand on Wren’s shoulder. “Bhaal, this is Wren, she is kaa of my flesh, my giri-maga. Her jhin is strong. It is my jhin. Do you understand?”

“Mother, but—?”

“My jhin, Bhaal.”

The Lokori blinked and bowed her head.

Gaea took hold of the Lokori’s shoulder, making the blue-haired female cringe. She pulled her around and gestured to Ziedra. “This is Ziedra, she is also kaa of my flesh, also my giri-maga. She is Wren’s molan-ta. Her jhin is Wren’s jhin, it is my jhin.” She pulled Bhaal a little closer and swung her hand to Daena. “This is Kumiko. She is not only kaa of my flesh, she is the first of zenith kaa. Her jhin is also my jhin.” She swung to Azir. “That is Azir, he is Wren’s nomi-kas. His jhin,” she sighed and stared at Bhaal.

The Lokori stared at her for a long moment.

Gaea frowned at Bhaal.

The Lokori glanced over at him. “His jhin is your jhin?” she said in a tentative voice.

Gaea rubbed her brow. “Right, Bhaal. His jhin is my jhin.” The all-mother sighed. She thumped a heavy hand on Bhaal’s shoulder. “Do you see the prime kaa floating there?”

The Lokori’s eyes widened and she nodded.

“Do you know who he is?”

“Bannor?”

Gaea raised an eyebrow. “You remember, yes, Bannor. What do you think Bannor is to me?”

Bhaal seemed to shrink a little. “Uh, kaa of your flesh, jhin of your jhin.”

“Yes, Bhaal,” Gaea said in a soothing tone. “You know what else he is?”

The Lokori woman’s brow furrowed and she shook her head.

“He’s RAGI!” Gaea shouted so loud the Bhaal’s hair fluttered and she recoiled a step. “How are you going to fix that, hmmm!?”

Bhaal shrank down further and pressed her hands together. “I—” She glanced toward Bannor, then to the collapsed metallic body on the floor. She blinked. “Fix?”

Gaea sighed.

The Lokori woman shut up and tried to look innocent. As innocent as she could covered in blood.

“By the dark,” a female voice said from the entry. Bannor looked over to see Marna and her daughter standing frozen one step into the chambers. “I came to see what the yelling was about…” The ancient matriarch glanced to the other people in the room. “Domma prime… th-that’s a Lokori.”

Gaea frowned at Marna, she looked over at Bhaal. The Lokori brushed at her blue hair, still looking uncomfortable. “I think I’m capable of recognizing one of my own children. Bhaal will be no problem, she will be at my side until her disposition is determined.”

Bhaal’s jaw dropped open. “Mother?”

“How were you planning to get back to where you came from?”

The Lokori opened her mouth, then closed it. She looked around and stared at Gaea.

The goddess sniffed. “That’s what I thought. Do you have a problem guarding me?”

The Lokori’s brow furrowed. She glanced at the Kriar, then to the elves and humans. “No, Mother.”

“Gaea,” Eclipse growled. “You must be jesting—a guard?”

The green mother whirled on him. “Am I? Am I mistaken in thinking that it is the Daergons who threaten me?”

The ancient Kriar commander leaned back his throat muscles working. Rubbing at the white crescent on his gold cheek he frowned. “No.”

“If she scares them half as much as she scares you, then she’s a good choice don’t you think?”

Quasar pursed her lips. “It’s going to take more than sharp claws to protect you from them.”

“I am well aware,” Gaea said. She turned away from them. “Wren.” She put a hand on the blonde savant’s shoulder. “Zee, Daena, Azir, Bannor, Sen…” She nodded to them. “My thanks. I am proud of you all. I know you’re all hurt. Please seek healing, and rest. I will congratulate and reward your efforts appropriately later when you are feeling stronger and in a better state of mind.” She looked to Bannor. “Son Bannor, I will move your core essence to a new body as soon as Octavia prepares it.” She looked to the metallic form lying on the floor in a pool of black blood. “I earnestly doubt that one can be recovered.” She cast a fractious glance at Bhaal. The Lokori winced, shoulders hunching down.

“That’s it?” Sarai said in a dark tone, staring at Gaea.

Gaea tilted her head. “Did I miss something?”

She looked up at him, then back to Gaea. “Yes!” She threw up her hands and gestured to his floating form. “H-h-he’s a ghost!” She thrust a finger at Bhaal. “And that thing killed him! I can’t believe you would even consider allowing that creature to be among us.”

Bhaal tossed her hair and growled. Her fingers curved as though she would extend her claws.

Gaea brought a fist down on the Lokori’s head making the female yelp and clutch her skull.

“Don’t make me de-claw you, Bhaal,” Gaea rasped. She focused on Sarai. “She didn’t kill Bannor.” The goddess swallowed. “I did. I accept responsibility. I put the Lokori there with open ended instructions. Their devotion to me caused that whole mess, I sincerely regret what happened.”

<Star, please, killing Bhaal or sending her away won’t change what happened. I—> he looked down to Octavia. <You can remake my body, right?>

The healer looked up at him. She brushed at her red hair and glanced to Wysteri. She tilted her head and smiled. “Now would be a good time to install those pointed ears that Janai mentioned.”

His wife-to-be sighed. “His original ears will be fine. I suppose if you can be flip about it, there’s nothing to worry about?”

“If Mother Gaea can transfer his core from the old body, then, no. Come with me, we will see to the creation of the new body immediately.” She touched Wysteri on the arm. “Triage the others, we’ll treat the most injured first.”

“Mother,” Loric said. “We should get those materials into the lab. Them just lying in the floor there is making me nervous.”

“Proceed,” Gaea said. “Start the preparations as soon as you can, I will be along to do my part.”

Loric nodded. He and his golden wife stopped briefly to give a reassuring word and congratulations to him and the rest of the savants before picking up the cases Wren and Azir had brought. Megan, Tal, Terra, and T’Gor appeared behind Marna and flanked the elder as he and Cassandra as they moved to the exit.

The eldest Kriar watched the group exit, a hand on her throat.

Marna turned back when the honor guard had gone out of sight around a corner. “The whole idea of making another of those things is quite unnerving.”

Gaea cupped her hands over her nose and mouth. She sighed into the space. “Believe me, it is a sentiment I feel quite strongly.”

“My One, are you—all right?” Sarai asked him.

<Well, it doesn’t hurt anymore,> he answered. <I’m actually surprised at how calm I feel considering I’m looking down at my own mangled—mostly dead—body.>

“When you get your body back we’re going to have a little discussion about why it got so mangled.”

He looked toward Bhaal. <A hundred screaming-mad, blood-thirsty Lokori will do that.>

“Sarai, he came through for us,” Wren said. “Don’t pick on him.”

“I know,” his wife-to-be growled. “It was so frustrating, so frightening, him fighting all those rabidly insane creatures by himself! He shouldn’t have had to do that!” She looked down at his mangled form. “If it weren’t for those damned Daergons…” She sizzled into a pause and shook her head. “It would teach those damned gold-skinned traitors a lesson if they had to face an army of Lokori!”

Wren’s mouth dropped open. She leaned past Gaea and glanced at Bhaal, then looked to Gaea. “Hey, I like that.”

Marna waved her arms. “No—negative—definitely not. There is no WAY.”

Gaea laced her fingers together, jewel-like eyes glinting. “We’ll see about that…”

Return to Contents

Chapter Eighteen

I was immortal and didn’t even realize it.
It took looking down at my very own cold
body before it came home to me. I could
cheat death for eternity. Cheating never did
sit very well with me…
—Bannor Nalthane Starfist,
Prince Conjugal of Malan

Bannor hunched on the bench in their temporary quarters in the west wing watching the shadows from the flickering lamp dance on the surfaces of his palms. He opened and closed his fingers, observing the flex and twist of muscles and tendons. He drew a breath, feeling the surge of eternity’s energies tingling in his body. Alive again, and even his nola had started to stir. Again? If he never lost consciousness, if he looked on the whole time while his body expired, did he in fact—die? Perhaps Wysteri was right, he was merely exchanging a damaged vessel for one that functioned properly. Was a body nothing more to him than clothing was to normal person? That seemed so fantastic—so monstrous. Yet, he accepted it in his wife-to-be. She had switched guises several times since the garmtur had been revealed to him. Why was being normal so important to him?

“My One,” Sarai asked. “Is something amiss? You’ve hardly said anything since Octavia restored you. Are you feeling badly?”

He looked up. Dressed only in a filmy red silk chemise, silver hair fluttering around her, Sarai stood framed in the window, glowing violet eyes intent on him. As always, the sight of her made him catch his breath. Behind her the forest was lit up against an inky black night shining with stars. Lights seemed to dance through the boughs of the distant trees. Far off, the muted ringing of bells echoed through the valley.

Bannor blinked. Such a beautiful creature, and the concern on her face was so apparent—so sincere. With everything they had been through, that seemed the most fantastic thing of all; that she would want anything to do with a monster like him.

“My One?” She repeated. She brushed back her hair and swayed over to sit on the bench next to him. She rubbed her shoulder against him. She felt warm, and her hair smelled of some kind of spice fruit.

He sighed. “I—I guess I’m still a little—a little shaken up. I know everyone insists I didn’t… but it feels like I died.”

She rubbed his bare shoulder, trailing her fingers down his chest and across his ridged stomach. She put a hand behind his neck and pulled.

He relaxed and let her tug him in for a kiss. Her lips were moist and tasted of the tart-sweet bite of fire wine. After a moment, she reached down between his legs making him flinch in surprise.

She blinked glowing eyes at him and grinned. “Everything seems pretty ‘alive’ to me.” She leaned forward and nuzzled his neck. “You smell good too. Not at all like a corpse.”

He pulled her close and nuzzled her hair. “I know it seems dumb…”

“No, it is dumb,” she growled. “Bannor, with all the things that have been happening recently, can’t you just accept you are not a human. You are a savant, one of Gaea’s children. What difference does it make if that body died or not—the you that matters is still here. I mean if you want to talk about dying—the same thing happened to me—remember?”

He sighed. “I remember you didn’t like it much.”

“Being alive was good. Looking like a cow wasn’t.”

“You didn’t look like a cow. I thought Meliandri was attractive.”

Sarai snorted. “Anyways, you always told me it didn’t matter how I looked. Why can’t you follow your own advice?”

He rubbed the back of his head. “I was sitting here asking myself that same question.”

“Forget questions,” she said. “Come to bed, and keep me and Vhina warm.” She rose and pulled on his hand.

He slipped out of his breeches and slid beneath the blankets with her. The old bed creaked under his weight, but the seasoned scalebark held. He rocked his head in the pillow as Sarai snuggled up to him, her smooth skin like fine satin against his. She rubbed her cheek on his shoulder making a little humming sound.

They lay together in the darkness for a little while.

“My One,” she said. “You did an incredibly brave thing today.”

“Uhmm,” he responded. How else did you respond to a statement like that?

“I was so scared,” she said. “I know I was angry, but you did the right thing. I don’t know, but you may have saved us all.”

He sighed and ran a hand through her sparkling hair. “I’m sorry I scared you. I was pretty scared myself. I just knew I needed to stand my ground because the others were counting on me.”

Sarai rubbed his chest with her hand, making his skin tingle. “And that little trollop Daena rescued you.”

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Bannor, I’m proud of you. I will be proud to be your wife. Mother and Father, my sisters, they all respect and like you. We can all be happy…”

“If we can get through this mess,” he said.

“…If we can get through this mess,” she agreed. “You’ve more than done your part. It’s up to the others to push it through. Let’s hope there’s good news in the morning.”

“Let’s hope,” he acknowledged. He pushed up on an elbow, leaned in and kissed her. “I love you.”

She pulled him tight. “And I you, my One…”

***

That night, he slept deeper than he had in long time, comforted by having Sarai strong and vital by his side, the power of Eternity watching over their repose. The rays of dawn were just turning the undersides of the clouds in the west a light golden color as he put his bare feet on the cold stone cobbles.

He dressed in his light harness, pulled on a clean tunic, and belted on Xersis. The shaladen felt light. In fact, his whole body seemed to float as he moved around the chambers. He suspected that Octavia had meddled with the design of this body, so that after a calm night it had adapted to him. He remembered Bronawyn’s words about how cybers were never content to leave something be, they had to constantly improve on what came before. He bent over Sarai and kissed her on the neck. She burbled, making a pleased sound. When comfortable, she had always been a deep sleeper, and liked to sleep in.

He made sure her shaladen was close to the bedside, went to the chamber door, let himself out and secured it.

Out in the hall, he listened to the silence. He felt people up and about. His nola senses must be coming back because he felt an impression of Wren not far away and it wasn’t through the shaladen.

Curious, he headed to find out what Wren was doing.

He found the savant of forces down in the dueling hall where Sarai liked to practice. The ancient octagonal hall with its high arches and murals and heraldry always had a feeling of energy in it, a strength given to it by eons of elf warriors practicing and toiling in its confines.

Dressed in her familiar black togs, golden hair tied back, the lady ascendant was not alone, tiny Vera was with her dressed in those odd charcoal-colored robes. The two of them shifted and spun in tandem on the hexagonal floor. Still in her body as an ascendant, Wren dwarfed the little G’Yakki woman but the two of them moved in unison through stylized kicks and punches, shifting into blocks and graceful sways of their bodies.

Arms folded, he leaned in the doorway and watched, appreciating the simple beauty of two skilled warriors practicing their art with passion and precision. As they moved, Bannor felt a tugging at his own body, a kind of strange familiarity or even longing. Perhaps, some memory of the G’Yakki warrior skills still remained in him even after he stopped being Gaea’s avatar.

The dance they were performing drew to a close and Vera turned and the two of them saluted each other.

“Wren friend very solid,” Vera said. “Even though you big now.”

The blonde ascendant nodded. “It’s hard. It’s taken a lot of practice to get back to where we were.” She seemed to catch sight of him. “Oh, good morn, Bannor.”

He nodded to Wren, then nodded to the other woman. “Good morning, Lady Vera.”

The G’Yakki bowed to him.

“You look better,” Wren said. “How are you feeling?”

“No complaints,” he said. “Say, doesn’t Azir ever practice with you?”

The blonde woman sniffed. “Not since he started sleeping with those harpies.”

He stepped into the chamber. “Wren, you don’t believe they’re harpies. Millicent and Kylie, and the other Valkur helped us a lot.”

Wren clicked her tongue and folded her arms. “Maybe, but they are too old to be using my brother for a plaything.”

His brow furrowed. “I’m trying to understand the resentment. You know they weren’t chasing him. Are you jealous?”

Her jaw dropped. “Jealous? I’m his sister.”

“Well, then…” he stopped himself. He looked to quiet Vera who was listening to the conversation with interest. “What do you think, Lady Vera?”

The G’Yakki woman’s brow furrowed, like she was surprised to be ever asked her opinion on something. She looked up at Wren with a serious expression. The blonde ascendant stared at her with glowing blue eyes.

“Vera think that Wren not like sharing her brother,” the little woman determined.

Wren made a sputtering sound and scowled at her. Apparently, Wren did not deny observations made by her teacher. She sighed and stared at him. She laced her hands and cracked her knuckles. “So, are you here for a workout or are you just here to tweak my nose?”

He started to demur and then changed his mind. “Sure. I suppose. I was just planning on wandering around and checking on things. This whole thing with Gaea and the genemar makes me nervous.”

“Brother, there we feel the same. I’m working out mostly as a distraction. I know it’s up to Gaea, Loric, Marna, and the other elders now, but I still can’t help feeling antsy. What if the Daergons attack before they’re done?”

“It’s going to be a mess,” he said turning away and unsheathing Xersis. With a twist of will he transformed the weapon into a band on his arm. The shaladen clamped down with a warm snap as the flowing metal took on a rigid form. He unbelted the sheath and tossed it on the benches. “I tell you, after fighting a pack of Lokori, skirmishing with a bunch of Baronians and Daergons will seem like a damn vacation.”

She let out a breath and shook her head. “Isn’t that the truth?” She seemed to consider that image in her head for a moment before giving herself a shake. “All right—stinging stance.” She dropped into a crouch, knees bent and one fist forward the other curved up like the striking tail of a wyvern. Beside her, Vera flourished and dropped into the same position.

Bannor tried not to think about it, but let the body memory guide him. He slipped back with his weight over his rear leg, shoulders turned, hands relaxed and in position.

“Good,” Wren intoned.

Together the three of them went through different cadences, sometimes Wren leading, other times Vera. The moves grew more complex as the two G’Yakki, master and student, saw that he could keep with them.

Though physical exertion was required, he found the rhythm and the focus soothing. Nothing existed outside of the universe of G’Yakki movements. It was a purity of motion, precision for precision’s sake, a unity of mind, body, and eternity.

They slid into the final move and saluted. Bannor let out a breath. In his old body he would have been winded. Now, he felt revitalized, his mind clear.

Vera pushed back her hood and smiled up at him. It was hard to imagine this cute olive-skinned little girl as a stone-hard G’Yakki warrior. “Wren’s friend Bannor is very good learner—good control, good focus.”

“It’s that freak pattern memory,” Wren remarked hands on hips. “Him and Ziedra, see something once and they can do it.” She sniffed. “It’s not fair.”

“Freak?” He responded. He bumped his shoulder against Wren. “Which one of us sticks to walls, hmmm?”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I haven’t climbed a wall in moons.” Her brow furrowed. “In fact, I’ve never done it in front of you. How do you know about that?”

He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Your friends tell tales on you.”

She sighed. “Ah.” She put hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Well, freak or not, since we’ve met you’ve always come through for us. I hope I can be there for you when you need it.”

He put his hand on top of hers, gazing into bluish glow of her eyes. “Wren, you have been. The universe was opened up to me, mostly because of you. I was a hermit hiding away in a cabin, lonely and bitter. Now, we’re doing something that matters to a whole lot of people.”

Wren let out a shuddering breath. “Bannor, the scale of this thing gives me the shakes.”

He pressed his lips to a line. “I’ve tried not to think about it. I’ve tried to just stay focused on the goals.” He shook his head. “Just protecting Sarai and the family is hard enough without thinking about the rest.”

“Yes,” Wren agreed. She looked down at Vera. “Doesn’t any of what’s been happening bother you?”

The little G’Yakki stared at Wren with dark serene eyes. “Worry not help. Be with friend, support, do what I can.” She shrugged. “I feel good.”

He laughed. “She’s smarter than both of us.”

Wren grinned. “Yes, she is.”

He heard footsteps in the hall and Sarai leaned in. “So, this is where you are. Having a tryst are we?” His wife-to-be must have been in a red mood because her blouse and leggings were both the same shade of scarlet fringed in white fur. Even her boots were red.

“Sarai, my you’re—” Wren paused. “Red—this morning.”

“Why, yes, I am,” Sarai answered with a smile, flipping a few strands of silvery hair. “Thank you for noticing.” She nodded to Vera. “Lady Vera.”

Vera bowed. “Arminwen.”

His brow furrowed. “I thought red was bad or something…”

“Only at a formal dinner, my One. So, did I miss the workout?”

“It was more like ‘get to know your inner G’Yakki’ but I think we’ll have time for more. We’re in that terrible wait time now.”

“Yes,” Sarai answered, drawing out the word. She tilted her head. “Your inner G’Yakki? Do I want to know what you mean?”

He glanced at Wren who smiled back. He shrugged. He turned to Vera and gave a deep and sincere bow. “Mistress.”

The little woman colored and returned the bow. He patted Wren on the shoulder, went to the bench and grabbed the sword sheath and belted it on. He joined Sarai in the doorway. “Where for milove?”

She grinned. “To eat, Dearest.”

“Repast it is,” he answered, taking her hand. He waved to Wren and Vera again and turned up the hall. “Hie us to it.”

They walked down the corridor hand-in-hand toward the east wing and the dining hall. The citadel felt different today. More alive. Perhaps the surroundings hadn’t changed as much as he had. The garmtur was back in him, making the colors brighter and the sounds sharper. Even the warmth of Sarai’s hand seemed more vibrant and inviting.

He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

She grinned up at him. “What was that for? Especially after all that gloom last night?”

He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it. “It’s for me getting my head straight; a few moments with Wren and Vera just moving and clearing away bad thoughts.”

“Well, I like it,” Sarai said, giving his hand a squeeze. “Maybe I should get them to knock sense into your head more often.”

“I suppose,” he said. “I think it’s just my own lack of discipline. I always thought of a regime like that was just practicing to fight. I’m realizing it’s more than that. It’s getting your mind and body focused.”

Sarai looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, glowing violet eyes gleaming. She didn’t say anything but the knowing expression on her face said more than enough.

He rolled his eyes and sighed. “And yes, you’ve been trying to get that in my head for moons.”

She squeezed his hand and gave him a little satisfied smile.

Being the hub for most of the citadel’s activities since the war with the Baronians began, the stone walls of the tiered dining hall echoed with the sound of activity. Since regular deliveries of foodstuffs had begun arriving through Marna’s agents, the newly appointed cooks from the Karanganoi subnet seemed to work all night and all day. The buffet had been moved to one side and had been modified so that some of the dishes prepared could be kept warm. As they walked in, he gazed across the way surprised that were now about twelve different kinds of food in the oil heated ceramic containers. He recognized fish, poultry, beef, and lamb, vegetable dishes, tubers, and others. It all looked very appetizing and smelled excellent.

Sarai stared at the arrangement with hands on hips. “That’s clever. That should keep our hungry defenders inspired.”

He grinned. “After this is over, maybe the citadel should run a hospice business on the side.”

“Actually,” he heard Janai say coming up behind them. “After I saw that, I was thinking about it.”

The second princess came and put an arm around Bannor’s waist as they looked down the terrace into the dining hall, and across valkyries, Kriar, mecha, Shael Dal and Felspars conducting business, consulting, and socializing. The always vivacious second princess was dressed in shades of gold and silver this morning, her long dark hair loose and glistening on her shoulders. Her amber eyes were glowing particularly bright this morning.

“Good morning, Janai,” he greeted. “You seem well.”

She rolled her eyes. “Lords, of course I’m well. I wasn’t a Lokori scratching post yesterday. How are you?”

He glanced at Sarai and let out a breath. “Better.”

“Good,” Janai chirped. She came around him and leaned back to look at Sarai. She put fists on hips with brow furrowed. “Okay, attractive—bright—flashy. All right, who are you, and what did you do with my sister?”

“I—”

“How very bright, Sister,” Ryelle said coming up on Sarai’s left and leaning around her. The willowy first princess swayed in, nodding to Janai and to him. Dressed in the plain dark blue of a Malanian administrator she was still quite striking with her translucent hair pinned with jewels and flowing over her shoulders. She, like Janai, was glowing with vitality. “What’s the occasion?”

Sarai let out a breath in exasperation. “I felt like wearing red. I look good in red don’t I?” She glanced up at him.

“Star, you look good in an old tuber sack,” he answered.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Janai said. “I agree that you are in fine form.”

“Pardon my saying it,” he said. “Janai, you and Ryelle seem really up—more than usual.”

“It’s the shaladen,” Ryelle said. “I feel so strong—so—” She struggled to put a word to it. “Alive. You should have seen mother in the bath this morning, she was bouncing around in the altogether like she was fifty again. It’s hard not to grin like a jester when it feels good just to breathe.”

“Really?” Sarai said with a furrowed brow. She looked down at the band on her arm. “Oh, that’s why I didn’t notice. I was already feeling that way from how Mercedes designed this body.”

“And you kept that a secret?” Janai said. “Don’t you love us anymore?”

Sarai rolled her eyes.

“I wonder what’s going on with the shaladens,” he said. “I felt different this morning too. I thought it was just from healing overnight.”

“There’s Megan,” Ryelle said pointing back behind them. “Let’s ask her.”

The lead Shael Dal swayed down the hall, chain armor glinting, and rainbow wings shimmering on her back. The normally serious and methodical air maiden seemed to have considerably more bounce in her step as she made her way down the citadel passage. Adwena, her sister, the one who Sarai had posed as for a short time, strode along at her side, wings gleaming with color.

“Greetings arminwens,” Megan said with a grin. She nodded to him. “And Bannor.”

Adwena nodded to them all.

“Good morning, Lady Megan,” Sarai said. “Do you have a moment?”

“Certainly!” Megan clapped her hands together and rubbed them. “What can I do for you?”

Ryelle leaned close. “Are they doing something to the shaladens?”

Megan nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes, they most certainly are, quite—uplifting isn’t it? After the little avatar demonstration between Bannor and Gaea, Koass thought they should tune the host / shaladen energy a bit.”

Janai tilted her head. “I’m guessing the full Shael Dal are feeling it a wee bit more strongly than we are…” Her voice trailed off.

“Yes!” Megan lauded. She rubbed the side of her head. “I haven’t felt like this since I first became one of Ukko’s Chosen.” She let out a breath. She raised a finger. “I need to do something productive with my hands, so if you’ll pardon me.” She pointed to the buffet. “That looks fabulous. Arminwens.” She nodded to them. “I’ll be over there if you need me.” She took her sister by the hand.

Adwena nodded to them again and the two air maidens literally skipped over to the food counter.

“Tune?” Bannor wondered. “Why is everything strange blamed on me?”

“Because everything strange is your fault, Brother-to-be,” Janai laughed.

Sarai rubbed the back of her neck, gaze following Megan. “Why would they turn up the power in the shaladens? They’re already so ludicrously powerful we can’t even use the tiniest fraction of the energy. It doesn’t make sense.” She turned back and peered up at him. “That must be what’s going on though, the shaladen adjusting our bodies to accommodate for the extra potential.”

“I tell you,” Janai said. “I’m starting to hope this drags on a while. This feels pretty nice.”

Sarai sniffed. “Good feelings aside, Koass wouldn’t increase the power unless he thought there would be a need.”

“I don’t think he added more power,” he determined, giving it more thought. “I think what you feel is a stronger bond to your eternals. If they were impressed by Gaea’s performance through the shaladen, I’m guessing up until now, the Shael Dal haven’t had all the abilities of a true avatar. When Gaea was in me, she actually gained powers she doesn’t have in her own body.”

“I’m just glad she didn’t burn you up, Brother,” Ryelle said. “We were all watching that fight and feeling so helpless.” She cast a sympathetic look to Sarai and rubbed her shoulder.

His wife-to-be’s eyes glazed over for a moment and she seemed to stare through him. She had been there with him, in his mind, sharing in everything that happened. There had been no way to stop her, even if he had been able to concentrate on something besides defending himself.

“I’m here,” he said. “It stung a lot, but I got through it. Thinking of getting through, we better hurry or Megan won’t leave us anything to eat.”

The four of them strolled up to the buffet. As they picked up plates and waited for Megan, Adwena, and a couple of Kriar seargas to furnish their plates Bannor turned to Janai. “Jan, where’s Daena?”

“Still in bed I imagine,” Janai answered. “She got pretty cut up. We sometimes forget that she’s really still just a little girl. That was a lot of pressure. After princess Doom here,” she cuffed Sarai on the shoulder. “Went and spouted off about her being my One. She’s afraid to get close to me.”

Sarai put hands on hips. “Princess Doom? She deserved worse than she got. The little snot needed to be pulled down off that ascendant high horse that you encouraged I might add.”

Janai started spooning vegetables and meat onto her plate. “All right, I admit I spoiled her a little…”

“A little?” Ryelle remarked, putting a formidable stack of mashed tubers on her plate. “Jan you have lavished more attention on her than both your previous husbands combined.”

Janai shrugged. “What can I say? She does have slightly more potential than they did.”

“Just a little,” Bannor murmured with a roll of his eyes. He glanced over to Ryelle whose plate looked ready to overflow from the comestibles stacked on it.

The first princess caught him looking and colored, a guilty expression on her face. She looked down at her plate. “Would you look at that? You’d think I was a voracious broadpaw or something.” She turned her gaze to the jeweled band on her arm. “It’s this silly shaladen. I’m always hungry.”

“I love it!” Janai said, throwing a few more wheat-cakes on her plate, and spooning a liberal dollops of butter on top of them. “I eat like six times a day, sweets and anything I want, and I’m actually getting thinner.” She put a thumb in the waistband of her skirt. “That’s on top of being stronger than a horse and having beautiful smooth skin.”

Sarai shook her head. She was however putting a healthy heaping of food on her plate. She glanced up at him. “What? I’m supposed to eat well. I’m eating for two you know.”

He rubbed his shoulder against her. “I know.”

“Good morn,” he heard Senalloy’s familiar heavy voice. The silver haired woman patted him on the shoulder. She was dressed only in a short bathing robe, her silver hair hanging uncombed down around her face. The Baronian lady stopped at the end of the buffet, yawned and stretched. “Uhhm.” She blinked and smiled. “This looks good.”

“Sen, couldn’t you have at least dressed?” Ryelle said with a frown.

“Arminwen, I am sooo hungry. Surely you wouldn’t want your favorite guardian to starve.”

The first princess rolled her eyes. “I suppose not.”

Senalloy started heaping food on her plate. She glanced at Sarai. “Mmmm, nice, in a red mood?”

Sarai sniffed. “Exactly. Everyone else is making a scene over it.”

Senalloy shrugged. She hacked off a sizable chunk of beef, then clomped a mass of mashed tubers on top of it. “I get those kinds of moods all the time.”

“Well if it happens to Sen, it must be normal,” Janai said with a laugh.

The five of them located a table and sat down. There was silence for a little while as the three sisters and Senalloy focused on breakfast. While he was hungry, he didn’t feel much like eating with so many things going through his head. Still, he knew that he must eat. The eggs and wheat cakes both tasted excellent. The mecha from the subnet had put some unusual spices on the food that made the flavor stand out.

A short time later he saw Wren and Vera enter. They served themselves from the buffet and sat down with a small group that Bannor recognized as members of the Felspar clan. Only a few moments later, dressed in black halters and tight pants Sindra and Drucilla came in along with their gold-skinned protégés Cassin and Annawen who were dressed in the red skin-tight Kriar uniforms. Eyes shining, Sindra waved to him with a big smile. He gave her a weak wave back, sinking down in his chair.

Sarai frowned at him. “What’s that about?”

He coughed. “Nothing. I saved them from a dread—that’s all.”

Her brow furrowed. “This isn’t anything like the dragons is it?”

“Uhhm.” He glanced down to Sindra. The giant D’klace woman had her plate heaped full of food. She looked up and waved again. Her mate Cassin elbowed her in the side. The big woman didn’t seem to notice.

“I—don’t—think—so,” he murmured.

The four went to sit with Wren and Vera at the Felspar gathering. He let out a sigh of relief.

Senalloy had her chin in her palm. Her violet eyes were fixed on him. “Say you didn’t get one of those big hussies interested in you.”

He made a helpless gesture. “What? We were rushing to get to the vault. A dread appeared out of no-where. I had to stop it. I couldn’t let it pound everyone.”

“Riiight,” Senalloy shook her head. “Luthice has told me some stories about those two.” She sighed. “Sarai, keep an eye on him. Don’t let them get him alone.”

Sarai nodded with a serious expression.

“Ah, there she is,” Janai said, nodding to the dining hall entrance.

Long auburn hair still tousled from sleep, the youngest ascendant shuffled in, dressed in green shift and slippers. She walked with her hands clasped behind her neck and seemed to be in a world of her own. The smell of food seemed to be the only thing giving her any direction.

The girl shouldered up to the buffet next to a pair of valkyries who forced her to wake up enough to be polite as they asked after her health. The young woman loaded her plate, swung around spotted their group and headed up to them. She set her plate down opposite Janai and went around behind the second princess and gave her a cheek-to-cheek hug.

Janai hummed and patted Daena’s hand. “You okay, Ena?”

Glowing green eyes hooded, Daena nodded. “Thanks for thinking about me.” She rose and sat in front of her plate. She grabbed the juice pitcher from the middle of the table and filled her goblet. She sipped her juice and ate a few bites of food. The girl looked around. “Is it me or are the Shael Dal all acting strange? Tal and Terra were singing like a pair of kids. That Elsbeth lady who always has that cold stare, she actually said ‘good morning’. Even Aarlen was nice. When I passed her in the hall she grinned at me… it was creepy.”

“Yes,” Janai answered. “We’re all feeling a bit frisky. Koass is doing something to the shaladens.”

Daena’s brow furrowed. “It’s not dangerous is it?”

“I—” Janai stopped, then glanced at Ryelle. Who returned her look with pursed lips. “You know, we never asked… I think we assumed…” Her voice trailed off.

“I’m pretty sure Koass wouldn’t put everyone in the Shael Dal at risk,” Bannor said. “Not when a big confrontation might be coming up.”

“So, you look like you’re feeling better, Brother,” Daena said. “Any word from Mother?”

He shook his head. “That’s pretty much what we’re all waiting to hear.”

“Luth, I, and half a dozen Kriar and Shael Dal stood guard on the lab,” Senalloy offered, taking a sip from her cup. “We never heard so much as a peep. Gaea, Loric, Damay, Ziedra, Vanidaar, and eternal Czar have been in there all night.” She forked a few bites of egg into her mouth and gestured with the utensil. “You should have heard the caterwauling from Aarlen and Elsbeth that Loric got to be in on the enchanting. He’s the only one besides the eternal that’s not part of Gaea’s family.”

“Why do you suppose she trusts Loric?” Bannor asked.

Senalloy swirled the juice around in her cup. “I think there was some mention that maybe he and Damay might have been married at some time.”

“Married?” Bannor mused. “They sure act familiar with one another. It would explain why Gaea trusts him.”

“Well, they’re obviously not married now…” Daena pointed out.

“Damay was famous even to the elves,” Ryelle said. “Everything I ever saw about her was she dueled with Aarlen and was killed.”

“There certainly is a fair amount of animosity between those two,” Bannor put in. “More from Aarlen than Damay, but it’s there.”

“That’s not news,” Janai said. “Aarlen used to hate everybody. It’s only recently that she’s become slightly less hostile.”

“She’s scary,” Daena murmured. “And so are her daughters. So, you figure Loric married Cassandra and Desiray because Damay was dead?”

“That’s the strange thing,” Ryelle said. “If you read history, Loric should be dead too. Really dead. The myth goes that the one and only time all the pantheon lords cooperated with one another, it was to obliterate Loric and his followers the Krillar.”

“I guess we shouldn’t be surprised,” Sarai said. “I mean, I’ve been remade three times, and Bannor twice now. Damay could have been wandering around as a tao spirit all this time, and Loric…” She shrugged. “Who knows what kind of tricks these great elders can accomplish.”

“I’m not telling,” Senalloy said with a wink.

“I—” Bannor halted what he was about to say as a wave of dizziness made him catch the edge of the table. A cold shiver went through him and the room seemed to do a slow roll. Without his willing it, his nola-sight shimmered in his normal vision, the primal threads of Eternity dancing and swaying like boat hawsers in gale. “Whoa.”

“My One,” Sarai caught his arm. “What’s—? Uhhh…” She gripped the sides of her head. “Aie!”

Fighting the dizziness, he saw that both Janai and Ryelle were gripping their heads as well. Across the way at another table Megan and Adwena were rocking and shaking their heads in obvious pain.

Daena was holding Janai’s shoulder. “Jan, what’s wrong, what’s happening?”

Forced into his nola-sight, the air throughout the citadel was suffused with a green illumination as the fabric of reality seemed to shudder like a standard flapping in the wind. Accompanying the jarring contortions of space/time was an indescribable screech roaring in his mind.

The disruptions all seemed to originate from a single direction and he struggled to focus enough to still the rapidly vibrating strands of reality creating the torturous experience.

With a grunt and an effort of will he gathered up the elemental and magical threads and willed them to be still. His effort fed back with a backlash that hit him so hard his chair shattered and sent him toppling off the edge of the tier to smash an untenanted table on the terrace below.

He lay on the deck like a slow-shell flipped on its back, grappling with the disorientation and fighting to simply move. In the middle of his struggles, the disruption weakened and died out like the echoes of a yell in a chasm.

“Urgh,” Sarai moaned, turning to look off the ledge. “Bannor!?”

Still holding the side of his head, he gave her a weak wave to indicate he wasn’t seriously hurt.

“Ugh,” Janai pounded the table. “What the frell was that? It felt like my head was going to explode!”

“Some kind of reality distortion,” Senalloy murmured, pressing a hand to her temple. Obviously, she had felt it as well, simply not as strongly as those with shaladens.

All around the chamber, people were picking themselves up, the Kriar officers looked particularly shaken as if they had been pummeled with clubs.

“Bannor are you hurt?” Sarai asked him. “Can you move?”

He scrubbed his face looking up at her. “Damn that hurt, I tried—I tried to shield us—” He winced. “Urgh. I’ve never been hit by backlash so hard. It was like catching—ooof.” He drew a breath and managed to sit up. “Like catching a catapult shell in the chest.”

“Jan are you all right?” Daena asked in a worried voice. “You’re all so pale.”

“Didn’t you feel it?” Janai asked.

“I felt this really tooth-rattling vibration and heard a weird screech, but that’s it.”

“She’s not really tuned in with her telepathy,” Ryelle said. “She uses soul-speak most of the time.”

Sarai hopped down to where he was at, took his hand and helped him to stand. He stood on shaky legs still feeling dizzy. He scrubbed at his forehead. “Ow. Good thing I have strong backlash resistance. That almost took off my head.”

“Are you four all right?” Megan asked, gliding over to stand by them.

“I think so,” Sarai said, glancing up to her sisters who both nodded. “What was that?”

The lead Shael Dal shook her head. “I don’t know for certain, but it emanated from somewhere here in the citadel.”

Senalloy’s jaw dropped. “Damn, could that have come from the lab?”

“Oh frell!” Daena let out. She leaped from her spot at the table half way across the room, bounded up two tiers and was gone out the door.

Feeling the same urgency, Bannor pounded after her, leaping up the stairs and into the corridor, tearing around corners with the sound of screeching leather.

The young savant had a head start, but he caught up to her after the third turn as they raced down the corridor. Midway down the main hall Daena slid to a stop where Tal and Terra lay collapsed in the passage.

“Spit,” the girl murmured. She turned the big the big warrior over and pressed her ear to his chest. “He’s still alive, thank Gaea.”

Bannor checked Terra. She too was alive but unconscious. “The shock must have been stronger close to the source.”

Sarai, Janai, Ryelle and Senalloy caught up to them.

“Are they okay?” Sarai asked.

“Just stunned,” he reported. He pulled Terra over to the wall and propped her up. “I think they’ll be all right, we better check for others. Anybody in or near that lab may be seriously hurt.”

After propping up Tal, they lit out again toward the lab. Was this something planned? An accident? An attack? Thoughts whirled through his mind as they plunged down a flight of stairs, pelted down the back hall into the northern wing.

Daena slid to a stop by a large figure slumped against the wall.

“Aarlen,” the girl breathed.

Dressed in her formal black uniform, the magestrix lay collapsed in front of an indentation in the rock wall as though she had been blown into it with giant force. Her sleeves, arms, and hands were slashed and bloody as though she had tried to shield herself from a blast. Her face appeared as if she’d been in a desert sun for a day, her pale skin toasted to a rosy color. Brilliant red blood leaked down the sides of her neck from her ears.

He pressed a hand to the big woman’s neck. The pulse was faint. It was hard to imagine something powerful enough to bring this nearly indestructible woman close to death’s door.

“Damn, she’s hurt bad,” he said. “Yell for healers. If there’s anyone else this close they are going to be smashed up bad.”

“As we speak,” Ryelle said.

Senalloy knelt by Aarlen. After a few instants she looked up. “We need to get her to the infirmary immediately.”

He still remembered Sindra’s mental symbol from when they had telepathed in the hall. <Sindra, I need you,> he said to her telepathically. <Your mother is injured and…>

He never finished sending the thought, the D’klace woman and her sister Drucilla flared into being right next to him in a sizzle of blue light. Their sudden appearance made everyone jump.

“We’ll take her,” Sindra said in a cool voice. She crouched down and lifted the lid of the Ice Falcon’s eye. The pupil was dilated and a light from her finger did not cause it to contract. “Whoa, she’s below regeneration thresholds.” She scooped the huge woman up in her arms, the weight obviously of no moment to her.

“Wysteri will meet you at the infirmary,” Ryelle told her.

“Thank you,” Sindra said with a nod. She and her sister vanished in a blue flash.

Daena stared at where the two huge twins had been standing an instant ago, blew out her cheeks and shook her head.

“This is bad,” Ryelle said, rubbing the shaladen band on her arm. “The telepathy isn’t working. I had to call Wyst on the private Kriar artifice.” She tapped behind her ear.

“What?” Janai grabbed the weapon. “Damn. You’re right.”

He placed his fingers on the band. The normally warm metal felt cool to the touch. That certainly wasn’t a good sign. It was as if all the power to it had been sheared away. That something could do that seemed boggling. Had the Daergons done something with their genemar? An attack didn’t fit, unless the attack had been on Gaea.

“I was already scared,” Sarai said. “It’s getting worse.”

“Yes,” he murmured, looked up the hall toward the lab. They were still a ways from the epicenter of the disruption. What if somebody more fragile had been even closer?

Daena seemed to shake out of whatever she was thinking and looked down the hall with him. “This is bad,” she said, turning to Janai. “I hope your parents weren’t down here.”

“We better hurry,” he said.

He led the way down the hall. They entered the northern gallery where early morning light shone through stained glass windows casting a rainbow of colors across the polished marble floor. As they approached the far side, Bannor felt a humming in the air.

“Do you feel that?”

Daena stopped next to him and nodded. He glanced back to the sisters. Sarai gave him a single nod to indicate she felt it as well.

The thought sent an icy chill through him.

He hurried forward, taking the stairs on the far side of the archway. As they descended, the thrumming grew stronger. It made his skin itch.

“Damn it,” Senalloy muttered as they filed down the stairwell, hit the landing and switched back. The woman’s deep voice echoed in the tight confines. “It’s not just the shaladens. All kinds of telepathy are jammed, or everyone is deaf. Nobody is answering.”

“What happened to Megan you suppose?” Janai asked.

“She’s probably trying to check on all her people,” he said, clunking to a stop at the bottom. He tried the door and found it locked. He gestured to Ryelle and the eldest sister came forward.

The pale haired sister fished a key out of her pocket and fitted it in the door. She chanted a few words, and the lock unlatched.

That humming sound was really making him nervous. He gently pulled Ryelle back, and willed himself into battleform with a rasp of condensing flesh. A silvery sheen flared into being on the surface of his skin. He pulled the door open.

He gestured for the others to wait.

The oil lamps in this sub-surface level were out, and none of the mage-lights appeared to be in operation. A burning smell lingered in the air. With the door open, he felt the buzzing on his skin.

He frowned. That wasn’t right. There shouldn’t be any tactile sensation in the metalized flesh of his battleshape, not unless he had suffered an extreme injury.

Bannor pushed into his thread sense and frowned. The lines of the universe that normally filled is vision were gone. His nola perceptions were crippled as well. He was blind as well as deaf. He reached out and ever so gently stroked the power of the garmtur through the corridor. He felt threads respond, shivering as his energies brushed over them. So, his power was operating, he simply couldn’t see. Without thread sight, the garmtur was essentially useless.

He shifted forward, his steps clunking on the stone. He sensed no movement in the dark passage. “Sen, can you make some light?”

The Baronian woman stepped through the doorway and raised her hand. A globe of illumination crackled into being at the tips of her fingers. She shined the light around, the beam briefly played over something gold lying on the floor. She trained the light back and they rushed forward.

Two Kriar lay sprawled their backs. Scuff marks on the corridor stone showed their armor had absorbed a lot of the impact as they were knocked tumbling by whatever force had radiated from the lab. The two, a male and a female, twitched and shuddered.

Senalloy unlatched the communication band from around the male’s throat and pulled it around her neck. She thumbed the sender and spoke in the sing-songy Kriar language.

“I called for assistance,” she told him and the others. “The guards are on the way, but they’re on foot, warp techniques and time diving are not working.” She pressed a hand to the jewel on the male’s forehead and then to female’s. “Nothing I can do for them, they’ll need a mecha physician.” She pulled the Mark VI sidearm out of its holster on the Kriar’s side. Standing up, she popped the charge cell checked the level and slapped it closed. She punched the crystals on the side of the weapon in a complicated sequence then thrust the weapon into her belt. “We need to move, if there are others they will need emergency care.”

“Yes,” Bannor murmured. He touched the shaladen on his wrist again. The weapon was completely dead, it wouldn’t respond to his thoughts. If there were enemies, he needed something to fight with besides his hands. He bent down and took the other Kriar’s sidearm.

He sighted down the weapon. Nothing. He glanced to weapon in Senalloy’s belt. The jewels in the device were blinking to indicate it was active.

“Is this one broken?”

Senalloy shook her head. “No. It’s secured.” She took it from him. She popped the energy cell, slapped it closed, punched the jewels on its side in the same sequence she used before. She flipped the weapon around in her hand and palmed the setting to medium power. The jewels on the weapon lit up and the targeting jewel turned green as she aimed at one of the torch sconces in the corridor. She flipped the safety and handed it back to him.

He closed his fingers around the handle. “Thanks,” he said.

She nodded and headed up the corridor, shining a light ahead of them.

He watched her for a few instants. He wagered that if Marna or any of the other Kriar had seen Senalloy do that, they would be very unhappy. The Kriar were so confident in the abilities of their artifices, for Senalloy to be able to subvert the security measures so easily would certainly be seen as a threat. He pushed the thought away and focused on now, following after the Baronian woman.

Weapons out, they headed to the end of the corridor and the vault-like door that served as the lab entry portal. The humming sound was like a hive of insects here. The resonance made a crawly sensation all over his body as they stepped into the antechamber that served as a foyer to the lab. The area looked as if a hurricane had been unleashed in the ten pace square space. Every piece of furniture smashed into splinters against the wall opposite the lab door. He breathed a sigh of relief. It did not appear anyone had been in the waiting area when the blast went off.

He heard the sisters behind him murmuring their own relief.

The massive mithril door was bowed outward, only held in place by the toggle bars and the massive hinges bolted into the stone.

“It’s so weird,” Daena murmured looking around.

“What?” he said looking back.

She pointed up to the bronze ceiling fixture. “The blast didn’t affect anything made of metal or stone.” She pointed to the wall sconces and to a statue in one corner. “Shouldn’t they be bent or something? They don’t even look disturbed.”

“We don’t have time for mysteries,” he thumped up to the door, and hammered on it. “Is anyone in there?” He pounded on the metal again. “Hello?”

No response or knocking came back.

He pulled the Mark VI off his side and cranked up the power and aimed at the door.

“Wait!” Senalloy jumped over and pushed his hand down.

“What?”

“If Daena’s right and the blast didn’t affect metal, something hitting the door bowed it out. We took a lot of very dangerous and unstable materials in there. Who knows what’s against that door with everything knocked around.”

“Damn it,” he growled. She was right. He shoved the weapon back in his belt. “Okay, stand back, I’ll do it the hard way.” He stumped forward, focusing on his battleform, willing his mass to increase. Energy crackled and rasped around his limbs, after a few instants the stone under him began to creak. He hooked his fingers around the bowed metal put a foot against the wall and heaved.

With a groan the metal distorted and bent further, the stone in the wall shaking under his efforts. It felt like the whole room would collapse on their heads if he pulled hard enough to rip it free. “Frell, that’s tough stuff.” He looked over his shoulder to Daena. His voice sounded hollow and resonant. “Dane, can you soften or shift those locking bolts?”

Green eyes flashing, the young ascendant stepped up next to him, willing herself into battleform with a crackle of metalizing flesh. She leaned in to see the gap. “Need to pull it out a little further so I can see,” she answered, voice heavy and echoing. “This mithril is tough to work on. Let’s pull together, you pull high.” Her eyes flashed white and with a sizzling sound she pressed her fingers into the metal in a flare of sparks. “Okay go!”

He renewed his efforts, feeling his heart beat faster and body grow hot as he exerted all his strength. At his feet, Daena grunted, adding her considerable strength to the task. The metal shrieked under the renewed onslaught, twisting and deforming.

“There!” Daena said. “That’s enough, I can see it!” She pointed to a spot. “Sen, two low power shots should be safe enough, just need to soften the metal on those bolts so I can break them.”

“Fine,” the Baronian said. “Step away.”

They backed up as the silver-haired woman adjusted the aperture of the gun and set the power level. The weapon trilled, a brilliant white beam shrieked into the gap of the door causing the metal to flare red and the surrounding granite block to melt.

Daena made a grabbing gesture, the force of her nola gripping the super-heated metal with another flare of sparks. Her brow furrowed and her hand shook as she increased the pressure, with a crunch, something snapped and the door lurched a little further open.

“Okay, hit the top one.”

Senalloy shot again.

Green eyes flaring white, Daena made a clawing gesture with both hands. The metal heaved, groaned and twisted, the last bolt finally giving with loud snap. Mist began pouring through the gap filling the chamber with a strange caustic odor threaded through with the scent of burned hair. With a grunt, the young ascendant heaved with her power twisting the sturdy metal on the protesting deformed hinges which finally broke out of the wall. She flung the whole mass aside with a crash. As the metal moved, something that had been leaned against it fell across the threshold.

Janai gasped and Ryelle stepped back.

“Carellion,” Sarai breathed.

“Spit,” Senalloy murmured.

Bannor waved away the smoke and mist, revealing the still form of eternal Czar. The immortal creature looked dead…

Return to Contents

Chapter Nineteen

I saw that eternal lying on the ground
like a clubbed fish and thought, “Well, that’s
it, we’re done…”
—Bannor Nalthane Starfist,
Prince Conjugal of Malan,

The massive form of the eternal Czar lay sprawled on the floor, the creature’s broad masculine face set in a grimace of pain, half the length of his long dark hair melted by the power that had struck him. His eyes were open, but the normal glow in them was dark. It was obvious now that the lab door that Bannor and Daena had struggled to open had been bowed outward by the impact of the creature’s dense body. Mist and smoke still filled the lab chamber making it impossible to see anything. With the opening of the door, the buzzing sound had become a rumble that made Bannor’s bones rattle. Accompanying that noise was a pulsation like that of a gigantic heart.

He was about to open his mouth to say something when Wren, Azir, and Euriel came pelting down the passageway and slid to stop.

“Bannor,” Wren gasped. “What’s the—oh my lord…” She clutched her face in her hands, staring down at the eternal.

“Damn,” Azir murmured.

“Daar!” Euriel yelled. The Aesir woman leaned forward as if she would charge into the room.

Bannor grabbed her shoulders. “Wait!”

Euriel snatched around and glared at him.

“We don’t know if this was an accident or an attack.” He gestured to Daena. “Let’s drag Czar out of there.”

He and the young ascendant each took an arm and towed the burly eternal away from the threshold. Behind them, Ryelle and Sarai kicked debris out of the way to make a clear spot.

“Is he dead?” Janai asked.

“He sure looks it,” Azir said.

Senalloy knelt down by the eternal and placed some fingers against his neck. “He’s still warm, and I feel a heartbeat,” she said. She looked up. “Bannor, I’ll stay here and see if I can stabilize him and get him prepared for transport. Yell, if you need me.”

“Right.” He turned back to the room and looked to the others. “Okay, give me a moment to scout it out.”

As he stepped the door he willed himself back into battleshape, letting the nola power crackle and hum through his flesh. That pulsation was getting on his nerves. It reminded him of…

He stopped in the doorway with his hand on door jam. It reminded him of the sound that he heard when he experienced those attacks.

“My One?” Sarai said.

“I’m okay,” he said, voice echoing and metallic. “I just realized why I recognize this weird sound. It’s the same thing I heard every time I had one of those attacks.” He pressed forward into the demolished chamber.

A few steps in, he almost stumbled and fell into a pit more than ten paces deep. His stomach tightened. A cold prickling sensation shot down his spine. The whole center of the lab appeared to have been annihilated. Through the mist and smoke something hovered near the cratered ceiling. The rumbling sound was definitely emanating from a glowing green object the size of a small melon bobbing in the air like a wood chip in the ocean. The illumination from the thing wasn’t steady. It grew and decreased, making that heart-like pulsing.

“It safe?” Wren called.

“Come,” he answered. “Be careful though, there’s a giant hole in the floor.”

He saw Daena, Wren, her mother and brother file in. Sarai, and her sisters hung back. Instants later they began coughing and choking on the caustic vapor and assumed their battle forms. Euriel cast a spell which seemed to allow her to breathe. They continued in, sidling around the destruction. He pushed onward into the mist and smoke. Everything in the elaborately outfitted lab had been demolished; tables, chairs, counters all smashed into splinters. Stone and metal, glass and crystal that was not sitting on a table or in the path of hurtling debris appeared unaffected. The explosive mixing of materials were what had created the murky fog.

He heard Euriel and Wren murmuring behind him. Euriel’s husband and Wren’s close friend and her mentor had also been in here. He swallowed. He had great respect for Vanidaar. The man had been a good companion in the short time they had spent together. He found Ziedra personable and smart. He couldn’t imagine thinking ill of her or wishing any harm on her. Damay, the elder Kel’Varan was still something of a mystery to him, but in their short time together he found his ‘big sister’ to be stolid grounded person who could be approached and chatted with.

“Daar!?” Euriel called into the obscuring smoke.

No answer came back.

“Gaea!? Loric!?” he tried in a louder voice.

Nothing responded. He swallowed.

“This is not good,” Daena said in her metallic voice.

He picked around piles of debris to the far side of the crater away from the door. The mist and smoke still made it impossible to make out the far end of the chamber. Another strange detail was a pace-wide semi-circular groove carved into the lab floor leading directly away from the eruption point.

What in Gaea’s name made that? The stone looked fused and melted as if by great heat.

“What is that thing?” he heard Azir say. “It’s giving me a headache.”

“I think—” Euriel said. “I think that’s a genemar.”

He looked back and then looked up to the glowing thing. “Yes. Careful there’s another hole here.” He turned and moved along the notch in the floor. He had a suspicion as to what might have caused that curious damage.

The ten steps along the swath of carved stone he broke into a run as he saw bodies silhouetted against the back wall. The groove ended in a crater in the back wall in which Gaea, Damay, Ziedra, Vanidaar, and Loric lay collapsed. “Here!” he cried. “Quick, let’s get them out of this poison!”

He didn’t know if any of them were alive, but they looked intact. He saw blood and what must be broken bones, but couldn’t worry about those details. It had already been a fairly long time since the explosion.

He snatched up Gaea’s limp form. The goddess’ dense body hung lax in his arms. He couldn’t tell if she was warm because he couldn’t feel anything in battleform. “Daena! Get Loric!”

Dwarfed by her husband’s burly form, little Euriel already had him in her arms and was trundling out at a fast trot. Wren grabbed Ziedra and Azir scooped up Damay.

“I’ve got him,” Daena acknowledged.

The five of them charged out of the room.

He paused as the others continued up the corridor with their burdens. “Sen, we’re taking them straight to the infirmary, I know you can’t take care of six at once.”

“Go,” the Baronian said. “I’ll catch up. I have a few more spells to finish up before he should be moved.”

“Star, Jan, Rye,” he said, turning to his wife-to-be and her sisters. “Post guards, make sure they know that thing in there is dangerous.”

Sarai nodded. “Hurry, my One, we’ll watch things until someone else arrives.”

He nodded and plodded down the corridor away from the caustic confines of the destroyed laboratory. The extra mass of battleform was slowing him down. He willed himself back to flesh. Energy crackled through his limbs in a tingling rasp.

Back to normal he could feel again. The all-mother’s body felt cool but not cold. Her exquisite face looked marred and bloody, her clothing rent and torn by the powerful forces that blasted the six occupants of the chamber.

As the group of them headed up the hall at best speed, Megan, Adwena, Marna, Dulcere, and a contingent of valkyries and Kriar came charging into the hall from the stair access.

The ancient Kriar leader slid to a stop in front of him. She took one look at Gaea and blanched to a sickly yellow. “Oh dark.” She gestured to the other Kriar. “Emergency stabilization, we don’t have time to get them up to the med.”

“I’ll get Czar,” Megan said, rushing off down the corridor.

“Sen is with him,” Bannor advised to her retreating back. “We need to post a guard on the genemar!”

The air-maiden commander raised a hand indicating she had heard.

Marna thumped him on the shoulder, black eyes narrowed. “Just hold onto her.” She yanked a black container off her belt, thumbed open the lid and pulled out a thick silver disk. “Damn it, sotted bad time for warping to be jammed.” She undid the clasps on Gaea’s shredded blouse, peeling away the fabric plastered to her skin by blood. “Hate these rotting half-hack emergency patches…” She ripped red backing off the circle of material and pressed it under the goddess’ left breast. In rapid succession she slapped a series of smaller disks across green mother’s chest. She counted to five, then punched something on her arm band.

Gaea’s body lurched and twitched. The goddess gasped and took a series of rapid wheezing breaths. Bannor had to catch his balance as the green woman convulsed and coughed. He drew a breath. As she squirmed and moaned, many of her open scratches and wounds filmed over.

“That should give you enough time to get her to the infirmary,” Marna told him. “With quantum time totally unhinged I can’t risk putting any of them in stasis.”

“Thanks, Lady Marna.”

She thumped him on the back. “Hurry. Octavia and Mercedes are in the infirmary with Wysteri.”

He glanced back and saw that the other occupants of the chamber were getting similar medical treatment. Still holding Loric while a Kriar man did treatment, Daena nodded to him.

Sarai rushed up to him from down the corridor. “Come, best not to wait.”

He hurried up the corridor while Gaea continued to writhe and sputter. “Hang on,” he told her as he forged up the steps. “You’ll be with a healer soon.”

As he rounded the top of the stairwell, Gaea’s eyes blinked, their wan glow showing the all-mother’s weakness. “Bannor?” She coughed and moaned. “I—I hurt.”

“I know, Mother,” he said. “I’ll get you curing as fast as I can.”

With a groan, she lifted her arms and looped them around his neck. She leaned her face against his chest with a sigh and closed her eyes. “My son…”

He swallowed and pushed faster. Seeing Gaea so seriously injured had terrified Marna. He understood. Nobody knew what would happen if the all-mother actually expired.

Pounding back through the galleries he passed other valkyries and Kriar milling around in confusion. Mostly the winged sisters seemed to be helping the gold-skinned soldiers who had been hit hard by whatever that explosion had been.

He turned down the corridor where the infirmary was located to find pandemonium. Kriar, Shael Dal and members of the Felspar family stood in the corridor with dazed expressions or sat leaned against the corridor walls. They looked like casualties after a war.

Little Millicent, white wings and dark armor gleaming seemed to be acting as a director, checking the condition of each person.

The valkyrie looked over as he loped up. The little immortal pushed her glasses up on her nose, exaggerating the view of her silver-gray eyes as they widened in obvious concern. “Odin!” She turned. Her voice suddenly a battlefield bellow that made people cringe away. “Clear a path! Make way!”

Millicent plowed into the crowded infirmary. “Lady Octavia! It’s Gaea!”

All of the commanders, along with the circle of savants knew the possible danger posed should Gaea somehow die. Cassandra who was reclining on one of the daises with cold press across her face lurched up and looked over with wide eyes. “Bannor!” she gasped. “Loric… is he?”

“Daena is bringing him, Milady, she’s right behind me,” he answered.

He glanced around. All of the infirmary’s dozen pallets were full. Others were leaned against the walls, gripping their heads, and moaning. He noticed that several of the victims appeared to be mecha from the newly acquired Baronian subnet. He prayed that the Daergons didn’t choose now to attack, their defenses were crippled.

Dressed in a black body suit spotted with blood, red hair loose and flying around her face, Octavia appeared at the entrance to the healing chamber. The mecha’s rainbow eyes went wide as she focused on Gaea. “Oh my…” Her voice cracked. “Take her in and lay her on the diagnostic table.” She stepped aside and gestured him in.

He turned sideways and carried the all-mother into the glowing inner chamber. He disentangled the green lady’s arms from around his neck, and settled her on the padded table. Seeing the red-haired female appear at the doorway he said, “You’ll be okay now. Octavia will take care of you.”

He patted Gaea’s hand. He needed to check on the other savants. When Octavia nodded to him, he turned to leave. A hand gripped his wrist. He looked back and saw Gaea’s dim gray eyes focused on him. Her lip quivered. “I—I’m scared.”

That frightened expression on her face cut through him like a knife. It made his insides go cold. He cupped her hand in both of his. “I’m here,” he told her. “I’ll stay if you like.”

She swallowed and nodded. “I—I’m cold.”

“Just take deep breaths, Gaea,” Octavia said. “I’m going to put this band on your arm, it will sting a little but it will get the toxins out of your blood.” She pulled something from the side of the table and clipped it around Gaea’s arm. She hooked a tube to it and plugged it to something on the side of the dais. The mecha pressed something and the band clamped down. The goddess grunted.

“Shhh,” he hushed. He squeezed her hand.

The green mother gave him a weak smile.

“Do you know what happened?” Octavia asked, continuing to work. Deftly cutting away the cloth plastered to the goddess’ body by blood. She pulled the circles off that Marna had put in place and began examining each injury.

“It was an explosion of some kind,” he said. “It didn’t appear to affect anything like stone or metal. The blast smashed her and the others against a wall. There was some kind of gas in the air. We moved them as quickly as possible.”

“So the explosion only affected wood, cloth, and the people?”

“Apparently,” he answered.

“It only affected compounds of organic origin,” Octavia determined, twisting a finger in a strand of red hair. “It was some kind of eruption where the majority of the energy traveled through the subpaths. That’s why the strong telepaths were so affected. Telepathic communication is a subpath phenomena.”

“Pardon, Lady Octavia, organic?”

The mecha never slowed her treatment, hands moving precisely, cleaning wounds, bruises, and abrasions. “Living things or things that were once alive,” she explained, pausing briefly to brush her red hair over one shoulder. “Trees have a substructure similar to a person. There are components of that common structure that subpath radiation can affect. It’s a variation of the same principle that was used to attack you.”

“I think they managed to create a genemar,” he said. “I think it coming into being was what created that huge blast.”

Gaea squeezed his fingers. “Was,” she moaned.

He brushed a hand through her silk fine hair.

“I advised Megan to have it guarded. I knew that’s what that thing must be. It was right where the center of the blast seemed to come from.”

Gaea arched her back and drew a deeper breath. The flat gray of her eyes took on color.

“The blood filtering seems to have stabilized her,” Octavia determined.

He breathed a sigh of relief, then looked to the doorway. “Are Vanidaar and others okay?”

“Mercedes and Wysteri are with them,” Octavia told him. “I just made sure they know that blood filtering is a key treatment.”

Gaea drew a deeper breath, her green face still showing some signs of discomfort. She squeezed his hand again. “Thank you—for staying with me.”

“Of course,” he answered. It made him ache inside to see that exquisite face marred or in an expression of pain. He didn’t care if it was some hereditary conditioning. She was beautiful, and he was a part of her.

He looked up when he sensed a movement in the doorway.

Sarai peeked in. She brushed back her silvery hair. “How is she?”

Gaea waved a weak hand at her in answer.

“Out of danger it seems,” he said, feeling the relief wash through him. “How are the others?”

“Alive, but that’s about it. The only reason they survived is apparently Damay managed to shield them with her nola.”

“That sounds like her,” he said.

“She’s a good girl,” Gaea murmured.

“Is Wren okay?”

Sarai glanced back the way she came. “She’s pretty crazy right now with three of her closest people lying on the table in there.”

“Go to her,” the green-mother said. “I—I’ll be all right.”

“I’ll stay with Mother,” Sarai told him.

He gave Gaea’s hand a squeeze. He met Sarai half way across the room and pressed into her with a hug. She gave him a fierce squeeze and a quick kiss. His hand lingered in hers as he pulled toward the doorway.

Stepping back into the main infirmary chamber he found where Wysteri and Mercedes had set up tables specifically for the treatment of Loric, the other savants, and eternal Czar. Senalloy was not present, so she had either delivered the eternal and left again, or had given his transport into the care of another.

Apparently, Mercedes had access to the same creation ability that had been used to create the equipment that made Gaea’s body in Starholme. He didn’t know where else the tables, which were like the one Gaea was currently being treated on, would have come from. Loric, and the four savants did not look good, their skin had an ugly gray cast. He guessed Gaea, having been designed to be nearly indestructible, had been far less affected by the poisonous gas than the others. Even the eternal had a shadow in the coloring of his skin. On top of their physical injuries, it couldn’t be good. He swallowed. The only thing that gave him hope was that two mecha healers were their using their vast skills and knowledge to treat them.

Wren, her Mother and brother and a host of Felspar family members including Cassandra and Desiray stood around the injured group. The huge form of eternal Czar lay a little apart from the others with Megan, Tal, and Terra near him. Pale Aarlen, still unconscious lay near him with the four twins near her.

Mercedes and Wysteri were moving between each of their patients, applying healing and directing a host of volunteer assistants.

Bannor threaded his way into the group to Wren’s side. The blonde savant was understandably upset and divided in her concerns, with a mentor, best friend, and father all similarly injured. The woman stood back a step from where the three were being treated with her mother and brother near her. Loric’s wife Desiray was just walking up to Wren as he approached.

The white-haired lady reached up to pull the ascendant down into a hug. Wren hugged her back. With sighs they both gazed at the comatose forms of their friends and loved ones. He stepped over and put hand on her shoulder.

Wren looked up at him. She made a little smile. “Hi,” her voice sounded weak and her face was red.

“It looks like Gaea will be okay,” he said. “Sarai is staying with her.”

She nodded. “Good.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to them faster.”

“Not your fault, there were a lot of injured people.” She leaned against him. She swallowed.

“I know it’s probably not a good time to bring this up,” Bannor said in a low voice. “But we’re horribly vulnerable right now.”

Wren grimaced and nodded. “I can’t see to use my powers, I’m almost useless right now.”

He made a pained groan. “I was hoping it was only me.”

“My nola sight is gone too,” Azir mumbled. “More than half of the Shael Dal are down, and the Kriar are stumbling around like drunks. If those Baronians come storming in here, we are so frelled.”

“We still have the valkyries,” Wren answered. “They’re our core defense.” Her brow furrowed. She stepped over and touched her mother’s arm.

Euriel looked over, her expression downcast like she was near to tears.

“Mother where’s Nonna?”

The Aesir lady blinked. When she spoke she sounded tired. “I—don’t—know.” She shook her head. Bannor saw it was hard for the woman to focus. Her husband was lying on the table fighting for life. “Last I saw her was last night.”

Wren massaged the bridge of her nose. Her eyes went to her father.

White-haired Desiray put a hand on the blonde ascendant’s shoulder. “Wren, I can’t stay, we’ve got kids missing. I can’t hear a frelling thing with my telepathy. I have to go round them up and make sure everyone is all right. If we get attacked now…” She shuddered.

Biting her lip, Wren looked back and nodded.

Desiray went over behind Cassandra and gave the gold-skinned woman a hug from behind. The Felspar matriarch rubbed Desiray’s arm and nodded. The white-haired woman went to Loric’s side. The Felspar patriarch’s most grievous wounds had already been healed by Mercedes but his face remained twisted in a grimace of pain. She put a hand on his chest and gave him a kiss on the forehead. She looked back to Cassandra obviously pained. The gold sorceress waved her off.

Desiray went over to Cassin and tugged on her arm, and after a brief consult and parting between the twins and their mates, they threaded through the crowd and disappeared into the corridor.

Bannor blew out his cheeks realizing he had to do the same thing. They didn’t know where King Jhaan and Queen Kalindinai were.

“I feel bad Wren, I know I should be here to support our friends, but I think it would be better if I got out and tried to rally everyone around. Also, there’s that thing floating in that lab… I need to make sure nothing strange happens.”

She looked up at him, and gave his chest a light thump with her fist. He put his arm around the woman and pulled her close. “They’ll get through this,” he said in a whisper.

She nodded, glowing eyes on the verge of tears. “I-i-if nothing changes here in a little bit—I’ll come help.”

He gave her shoulder a squeeze and turned back toward the inner chamber. As he went to the doorway to go back in to Sarai, Daena came to him. “Is Wren okay?”

He looked back to the blonde savant then back to Daena’s glowing eyes. “Not really.” He paused and tilted his head as a thought occurred to him. “Is your telepathy working?”

“I can feel Jan,” Daena answered. “She can’t hear me though, and she can’t send. I have to make the connection.”

“I contacted Sindra telepathically when I found Aarlen down,” he remarked. Narrowing his eyes he switched to savant speech. <Can you hear me?>

She nodded. <I can hear you. Do you hear me?>

“Yes,” he answered. “Okay, we’re not deaf. What about nola sight?”

She pushed a hand through her tangled auburn hair and shook her head. “That’s frelled,” she told him with a frown. “I can’t see dren. Why are we the only ones that can do telepathy?”

“I think because we weren’t hooked into that shaladen shared rapport. You use your soul speak, and I haven’t been using the shaladen that way. I think also because right as the blast happened I shielded us… or tried to anyway. Got blown on my arse.”

“Then why are we both blind?”

“Deaf and blind are different things,” he answered. “They might be from different causes.”

“Okay, I follow. You think that thing in the lab is making us blind?”

“That and more,” he replied looking down the short corridor to where he knew Sarai and Gaea were. “I understand being temporarily deafened by a loud sound. This goes beyond that…”

“I heard you say Gaea was recovering. Maybe we should talk to her.”

He gestured her in. “Let’s go.”

Daena moved ahead but glanced back to where the other savants were. She let out a breath. “I know Wren and I have had our differences, but I think her Dad is good company. Her mom is nice too in her own thorny way.”

Thorny. That was good word for Euriel. “Yes. I respect them both.”

They stepped into the private infirmary just as Sarai and Octavia began struggling with Gaea.

“Mother,” Sarai growled, trying to hold Gaea’s shoulder down. “You need to heal more!”

“I do not,” Gaea snapped, trying to brush both their hands away. “We have an emergency, and I need to attend to it!”

“Mother,” Bannor said.

Both Octavia and Sarai looked up at his voice.

Gaea did too. Her eyes did not yet have the powerful glow that he had become accustomed to, but it was clear that she’d recovered a fair measure of her strength.

“Good,” Gaea said. “Bannor, tell them to unhand me. I have to—”

“No.”

The green mother blinked. “What?”

“Sarai, Octavia, please let go of Mother,” he said.

The two of them did as asked. “Mother, it’s very dangerous right now. Our defenses are down, if we’re attacked we don’t have any strength to defend you.”

“I know that!” Gaea growled, slapping a few strands of black hair away from her eyes. “I have to fix it, before they manage to get in here.”

Bannor frowned. “You mean you know there’s a threat?”

“Of course there is!” the goddess snapped. “They will know we’ve created something dangerous to them. They’d be on us already except the genemar is in isolation mode.”

“Was it supposed to blow up?”

“Don’t ask silly questions,” Gaea growled. “Get me down to that lab before Marna or someone else does something foolish and gets themselves erased.”

“Erased?” He did not like the sound of that.

Sitting there on the examination table naked, green legs dangling over the side, Gaea huffed and folded her arms. “Well?”

Bannor let out a breath. “Octavia, make her some clothes. Daena and I will protect her.” As the mecha moved to do as he asked, Bannor frowned at the all-mother. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

“I was barely conscious earlier.”

He gritted his teeth. “Star, anything from your parents?”

She shook her head. “Jan and Rye told me they would look for them after the guards were in position.”

Octavia had Gaea lay back on the table. The artifice hummed and band of light played over the goddess’ body. A black body stocking shimmered into being, coating her copious figure.

Gaea sat up and pulled at the skin-tight fabric. She ran hand down over her full breasts and stomach. She started to push herself off the edge of the table and pursed her lips.

He stepped over and lifted her down off the table. He held her waist until it was apparent she could stand on her own. The goddess held onto his shoulder.

He glanced over his shoulder to Daena. “You don’t have any clue as to where they might have gone?”

Brow furrowed, Daena shook her head.

He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t ready to panic yet though. “Damn,” he said, rubbing his forehead.

“I’ve been wracking my brain,” Sarai said. “I don’t remember anything on their itinerary.”

Brushing back her long black tresses, Gaea focused on Octavia, nodded to her and said, “thank you, Octavia.”

The mecha inclined her head. “Of course.”

“Okay, let’s go,” he looked down to Gaea. “You good?”

The goddess acknowledged by gesturing to the door.

He put the green-mother’s hand on his arm and they walked back out to the main infirmary area, Sarai, Daena, and Octavia following.

“Let me stop by my children before we leave,” Gaea said.

Bannor walked Gaea over to Wren, who came and hugged the green mother. Gaea looked at the three savants for a few moments. She put a hand on each of their chests. She glanced back to Octavia.

“Octavia,”

The mecha raised her chin.

“It’s Marna’s bodies,” Gaea said.

“Pardon?”

“Their tao force is being blocked. That’s why they are not accepting treatment.”

Wysteri looked over, eyes widening. “Rejection?”

“Yes,” Gaea said. “They lost consciousness before they could free their taos. However, the body lock makes it look to the tao as if the body is dead. So, they are not rebinding.” She rubbed Wren’s shoulder. “I would tell you to get their old bodies and rebind them, but with them unconscious, there’s no easy way to do that. I would make the adjustments you did on Bannor’s ascendant body, and remove the locks. You should at least be able to improve their condition.”

She walked over to Loric, the circle of his family parted to let her close. She placed a hand on great mage’s head. After a few moments she pursed her lips and looked back to Cassandra. She stepped over and leaned close to the gold mage, putting a hand on her back. “I am sorry Cassiopia, he has fled this body.”

The woman’s ebony eyes opened wide. “What?”

Gaea let out a breath and nodded. “That is just a shell, there is little more than a monitor spirit left within that husk. Just enough to keep it alive should that form somehow survive the threat it was under.”

Cassandra’s jaw dropped. She looked at Loric. “Where is he then?”

Gaea shrugged. “I know not, but there is still a strong enough binding that you can follow his spirit thread to wherever it is he has gone. You do know magicks that can accomplish this, yes?”

The gold woman swallowed and nodded.

“I recommend you do so quickly before you cannot trace him. I think he will respond to treatment much better after you have rejoined spirit and body.”

Tears welled in Cassandra’s eyes. “Yes!” She threw her arms around Gaea and hugged her. “Thank you! Thank you!”

The goddess hugged the Felspar matriarch, patting her on the back. “Hurry now.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Cassandra pushed back and wiped at her eyes.

Gaea turned and walked gingerly back to Bannor and took his arm. “Let us see Czar, and then we shall leave.”

He walked her over to the eternal. She placed a hand on his chest. After a few moments, she looked up. “It is the same with Czar, this body must be returned to eternity’s heart and his host crystal. It is the only way he can be reanimated.”

“Spankin’ great,” Tal muttered. “We can’t move spit right now.”

“I will lift the etherlock in a short while,” Gaea said. “However, our enemies will no doubt be waiting to pounce as soon as I lift it.”

Megan rubbed the bridge of her nose. “More good news.”

The green mother sighed and patted the winged warrior on the arm in sympathy.

“I don’t understand,” dark-haired Terra demanded. “If we weren’t attacked, what the frell happened down there?”

“Walk with us,” Gaea said. “I will tell you on the way.” She looked up to Bannor and put a hand on his arm.

He nodded and escorted her out of the infirmary and into corridor. Tal, Terra, Megan, Daena, and Sarai trailed after them. With more space in the broad corridor, the husband and wife shaladen team flanked them on either side.

The all-mother was slowly regaining her strength, Bannor saw her steps becoming firmer and more sure. The resiliency and recuperative powers of the body Octavia designed continued to prove themselves.

As she walked, Gaea tilted her head back. She let out a heavy sigh. She glanced first at Terra, then Tal, and back to Megan. “I must apologize. The accident and fault are mine.” She rubbed her face. “I knew the enchantments, but I am not versed in doing things as a creature of flesh.” She closed her eyes and shook her head, obviously remembering the moments before the accident. “They were looking to me for guidance. I am the eldest, I should have known.”

“Spit it out, Ma,” Tal said. “What happened?”

She let out a breath. “The final bindings require a great deal of energy. I had everyone secure the ishtite-isotopes that the recovery team brought from Starholme. They were placed as far from the coven circle as possible, but I didn’t have them taken out of the lab. I under-estimated the subpath interactions. When we started the final sealing, the magical reflections caused some of the volatile casting materials to react. The explosion of the catalytic magic was interpreted by the genemar as an attack and it reflected the power into the surrounding subpaths, and performed a phase shift—which when done underground affected the entire citadel structure.” Her hand tightened on Bannor’s arm. They walked a ways in silence as the whole corridor seemed to grow cold to her mood. “It happened so fast, there was really no way to stop it; especially as slow and clumsy as I am now.”

“Mother,” Terra asked. “This phasing thing, is that what’s blocking the telepathy?”

“Yes,” Gaea answered. “Imagine a building with thousands of floors. When you communicate telepathically you meet your partner and ‘shake hands’ on one specific floor. For privacy, you might move to another floor and continue your conversation. However, you always find one another on that ‘common’ floor. Knocked out of phase, your reference to the common floor is lost. Therefore, nobody can find each other’s mind and can’t hear anything because the entire telepathic spectrum has been shifted.”

Tal who was walking with his hands behind his back leaned forward, his dark eyes narrowing. “Spit. This phase dren is a chronal charge, right? We can’t get rid of it, we either have to be rephased or wait until the charge wears off.”

Gaea made a weary nod of her head. “Yes. The phasing works both for and against us. It prevents us from using many kinds of phase mechanics that include telepathy and such. Combined with the counsel shields and time wards put up by Koass, there is no possible way to gain entry to the citadel—physically or otherwise. No communication in or out is possible either. This is why you have not heard from anyone who was not on the premises when the accident occurred.”

“Damn, yer saying we’re trapped.”

“No,” Gaea answered. “You can leave the citadel grounds, but you will not be able to enter again.”

Bannor narrowed his eyes. “I think I managed to keep Daena and I from getting knocked out of phase. We can still telepath to one another.”

“If that’s true how can he and Daena be here?” Megan wanted to know.

“Probably when Bannor attempted to shield himself, the blockage was enough that he and Daena managed to keep their subpath reference. They are still out of phase, otherwise as Megan says, they would have been ejected from the phased space. If they can still telepath to one another it means they managed to hang on to the common telepathic reference.”

“So, Mother,” Sarai asked. “That means that we can use them to get re-synced to speak outside the shield?”

“That would follow,” Gaea agreed. She slowed as Bannor turned to take them through the gallery and down the steps. Already, he could feel the humming presence of the genemar.

Tal looked back to Sarai. His voice echoed down the stairwell. “Apparently the princess knows somethin’ I don’t. How hard is this re-syncing thing?”

“With the help of the eternals it would be simple,” Megan said. “Unfortunately, our shaladens are not working. We need a skilled natural telepath.” She frowned. “Loric would have been our man, but he’s down.”

“I believe any of the Kriar would suffice,” Gaea said. “Telepathy is their primary means of communication.”

Terra put a finger in her ear. “What is that buzzing? It’s making my skull rattle.”

“That is the genemar,” Gaea said. “The thrumming is the vibration of the subpaths holding it and the entire citadel out of phase.”

They walked down the long passage and around the corner into the destroyed vestibule. Marna, her daughter, and half dozen valkyries and Kriar stood around the laboratory entrance.

Marna stood in the entry itself staring up at the genemar with her hands behind her back. Her daughter, Dulcere, stood at her shoulder looking stiff and tense.

“I suspected I would find you here,” Gaea said.

Marna looked over her shoulder. She narrowed her black eyes. “This device has nearly caused the death of ten people, and caused injuries to a great number more. Our success against the Daergons and the Baronians hinges on it. It is in everyone’s interest that someone competent know what’s going on.”

Bannor felt a stab in his chest at the word competent. Gaea stiffened at his side, her fingers tightening on his arm. She already felt guilty for the accident. Marna was the only figure even close to being her peer, so the dig obviously stung.

The all-mother drew a long slow breath and pushed her hair back with a toss of her head. Seeing her jaw tighten, Bannor reflected on how much the incarnation of the goddess had changed in only a short span of days. Upon first awakening, she was practically a child, albeit an incredibly intelligent one. Though some aspects of that adolescent remained, she now had a unique self, one that wasn’t merely a reflection of all her children.

Gaea apparently decided to let Marna’s barb pass because she let go of his arm and pushed toward the doorway without comment. Dulcere stepped out of the green-mother’s path. Marna, however, did not.

“What are you going to do?” the matriarch asked.

Gaea stared at her. “Counsel—move.”

Bannor saw Dulcere’s hand take hold of the weapon on her side. Her subordinates also tensed. The movement, subtle as it was, made the valkyries, Tal, Terra, and Megan put hands to weapons. Daena and Sarai stepped up on either side of him. Sarai took hold of his hand, her fingers meshing with his.

He started to open his mouth and Gaea halted him with a held up palm obviously feeling his words before he could even vocalize. She put fists on hips. “What is this, Marna? Was I not properly grateful for your medical care?”

The muscles of the Kriar’s face worked. She was obviously careful to keep both hands in view. She would have to be a stone not sense the tension in the warriors around her. “This is caution. While I hope this was an accident. I find it altogether too convenient that every other witness in the lab was incapacitated. Loric and Czar’s spirits gone from their bodies and unable to return, your children injured in such a way that even Kriar medicine can’t revive them… Coincidence? Perhaps.” She tilted her head. “Tell me, Gaea, where is Bhaal? Was she in the lab with you?”

Bannor wondered how she knew all that if she was down here the whole time? Were agents of hers watching and reporting?

The all-mother’s brow furrowed. “Bhaal? No, I would not be foolish enough to try to control her in there. She is in my quarters. I left a request for food to be brought to her, as she is not safe around others without my presence.”

Marna waved to one of the Kriar. The male took off at a run, presumably to verify Bhaal was where Gaea said.

Gaea’s gaze tracked the running Kriar until he was out of sight. She looked back to Marna. “Counsel, where are you going with this? We need to secure the genemar. Our enemies may soon defeat the phase shield.”

“Accident, negligence, or deliberate sabotage?” Marna said. “Only one of your children could verify your identity, and they are all either incapacitated or blind. You do see how the coincidences pile up?”

Bannor felt a twist in his stomach. At his side, Daena drew a breath. Sarai’s grip on his hand was a steady pressure now. He looked down to her and saw her looking up, violet eyes narrowed. What the Kriar said made a certain provocative sense. He simply couldn’t give it serious credence though.

“This is ridiculous,” Gaea growled. “If I was an imposter, how would I know how to make the genemar?” She pointed to the device humming and glowing inside the chamber.

Marna glanced back at the device then focused back on Gaea. “Is that what it is? It could just as easily be a phase bomb. I could make one of those—perhaps not with magic…”

The green goddess cut her off. “Fooling the children would be possible, but Czar? Come now.”

“It is a weak spot in my theory,” Marna agreed. “How to fool an eternal specialized in magic.” She paused for a second and touched behind her ear. She nodded and then. “It appears the Lokori is indeed in your chambers.”

Gaea folded her arms. “This is getting tiresome. You are not the authority here. They are.” She tipped her head toward Tal and Megan.

“If this is indeed the genemar,” Marna declared. “We have already gotten a sample of what it can do. I have no intention of letting you near it until we know for certain what happened.”

He couldn’t hold himself back any longer. “Lady Marna, until that thing is turned off, we can’t know anything for certain. If the Baronians and Daergons get in here while we’re crippled, it’s not going to be good.”

“No—wait,” Megan said. Rainbow wings fluttering she stepped forward. “I understand Marna’s concern, the same concern we’ve had from the beginning. Creating a doomsday weapon to combat another doomsday weapon—it shows how desperate this situation has become. Marna, let’s compromise, I’ll handle the genemar, Gaea will tell me what to do.”

Gaea looked doubtful. “Child, I am not certain your spirit is strong enough to control the genemar, especially with its defenses up. Weakened as I am, I was bracing myself for a challenge.”

“Could something happen?” Megan asked with a furrowed brow.

“Certainly,” Gaea said. “You could set off another phase blast, and knock the citadel even further out of sync with real space. You thought the first explosion was uncomfortable…” Her voice trailed off and she shook her head.

Megan rubbed her forehead. She glanced to Marna. The Kriar matriarch wore a dubious expression on her gold face. She glanced up at the floating genemar, jaw working. He could see the pressure of time passing wearing away at her resolve. While Marna doubted Gaea’s story, she clearly accepted the threat of another explosion.

The lead shaladen warrior raised her chin and she straightened up. “I guess I just have to do it right then.”

She stepped up to Marna. She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.

The ancient Kriar pursed her lips, black eyes rising to meet Megan’s gaze. The lead Shael Dal and wife of eternal Koass while not as gigantic as Aarlen, was still an imposing female, especially with the addition of the wings. Looming over the smaller female, she held a hand out. “Do I have to move you?”

Marna’s throat muscles twitched. To see a Kriar caught in the midst of being indecisive was probably something rare, and it was obvious the council leader felt the heat.

The Kriar balled her hands into fists and let out a breath. “G—” She coughed and cleared her throat. “Gaea—you—do it,” she gritted out. She snapped her fingers at her two remaining aides, and nodded to Dulcere. “My people are going to cover you though.”

Dulcere drew her sidearm as did the other two Kriar. The valkyries around them tensed, watching them with glinting eyes.

Folding her arms, Megan stepped back.

Gaea eyed Marna, casting looks at the weapons trained on her. “Trust is so hard to come by.” She made a coming gesture. “Bannor, Daena, assist me please. I will need all the help I can get the way I am feeling.”

Sarai gave his hand a squeeze, and he leaned down and kissed her.

“Careful,” she whispered.

“I will,” he answered, then turned to follow the goddess.

Marna stepped aside as Gaea moved forward but the all-mother made a point of putting a hand against her shoulder and gently pushing her back an extra two steps. Her expression made it clear that the confrontation would not soon be forgotten.

It appeared that the poisonous gas that filled the room earlier had either dissipated or been cleared away. Hand on his arm, Gaea stepped in with him. The goddess looked around at the destruction and her features hardened. She gazed up and the silvery egg-shaped thing hovering overhead. He saw a shudder go through her body. This was her antithesis.

Behind him, he heard Marna murmuring into the artifice communications, telling all the Kriar to spread the word that Gaea was preparing to shut down the genemar and to brace for either an explosion or an attack from the Baronians and the Daergons.

“Let us move around to the right where the footing is better,” Gaea said.

Bannor helped her through the debris, picking around to the right side of the chamber.

“Mother,” Daena murmured behind them. “Can it still explode?”

“It can,” Gaea said. “So, let us not make it angry.”

“Angry?” Bannor wondered. Was this again another living weapon like Gaea herself?

They found a position a little back from the crater edge where the three of them could stand together with Bannor and Daena on either side of her.

Daena brushed back her auburn hair. “It’s hard to believe that little thing caused so much damage.”

“Daughter,” Gaea murmured, while continuing to stare at the object. “A single disrupted chronon can wipe out all existence.”

Roughly the size of both of Bannor’s fists placed one on top of the other, the genemar was actually more of a rounded cone, the bottom having a cylindrical projection from which four thick vanes spread out and tapered toward the top. Crystalline veins pulsed on the thing’s shimmering metallic surface, shifting and changing in color. The whole device hummed and pulsed, bobbing in the air overhead as though floating on the surface of a lake.

Bannor wished his thread sight hadn’t been affected. No doubt it would help here.

Gaea drew a breath. “All right,” she said. “I need you both to lend me strength. Each of you put a hand on my shoulder.”

Bannor put his hand on the goddess’s shoulder, Daena doing the same. Beneath his touch, he felt Gaea tremble. He glanced toward the door threshold where the Kriar had their weapons trained on them.

“Daena,” Gaea said. “Reach out with your power, can you feel it up there?”

The girl held up her free hand, fingers spread toward the genemar. Her brow furrowed. “Sort of, I don’t think I could get much of a grip on it.”

“That’s fine,” Gaea said. She looked to Marna standing sentinel in the doorway. “Go ahead and warn everyone I’m starting. We don’t know if they’re out there pounding to get in, but they might be.”

“I have it covered,” Marna reported.

“Okay you two,” Gaea said. “You’re going to feel the pull, so brace yourselves.”

He nodded and saw Daena do the same. He concentrated on Gaea, relaxing his body and willing his strength to her. As she reached beckoning hands up to the genemar he felt a sharp tug against the nola power in his body. Daena made a little squeak, obviously surprised despite the warning.

All around the genemar, colors began to twist and writhe, like droplets of colored oil stirred up in water. Each pulsation of the genemar sent ripples through the air around it. The device itself began to give off a reddish light.

Bannor gritted his teeth and his heart sped up. Despite Sarai’s assurances to the contrary, red was usually a bad thing. The grimace on Gaea’s face confirmed his concerns. Across the way, Marna was wincing as well.

“Obstinate destructive little thing,” Gaea snarled. “Obey.” Bannor felt a massive heave against his power that made his legs go wobbly. Daena grunted and went to one knee.

The genemar’s placid movements became an agitated spin and wobble. The device made darting shifts like a fish striking left and right at the end of a fisherman’s line. The thrumming rose in a pitch and the walls of the lab already trembling began to shudder and moan.

Gaea let out a gasp, perspiration standing out on her skin, as she held out a hand in a clawing gesture as if trying to pull the stubborn artifice out of the air. The atmosphere, ground and walls flickered translucent, and a green illumination filtered through everything. The stone itself seemed to bend and sway like marsh weeds in a strong wind. Around the device the very fabric of existence seemed to churn and froth.

Bannor’s stomach tightened and his heart became a thunder in his ears. The Kriar in the hall staggered, grabbing for the walls and doorframe in order to stay upright in a world that seemed to flutter and contort on itself. Gaea was pulling every bit of energy he and Daena could lend and barely making headway.

Hand shaking with effort, veins pulsing in her temples, Gaea let out a hiss of effort. “Come—here!”

Tongues of energy licked out, discharging into the walls and ceiling, in rasping bursts of coruscation that gouged out hunks of mithril-reinforced stone like a cleaver hacking meat.

Tossing her head, Gaea snarled. “I made you. Come—now!”

In a room that twitched and writhed like something from a fever dream, the genemar lurched down toward Gaea’s waiting hand, the air a burning froth of distorted ether.

A pace from Gaea, the device paused. The heat and distortions making Bannor’s skin crawl. The blood in his body felt on fire and a hammer pounded inside of his skull.

“Mother—hurry!” he gritted.

“Trying,” she groaned. “A—little—more.” With each word, she yanked the stubborn artifact closer. Each effort lashed at Bannor’s insides making him grunt against the force that threatened to turn him inside out. On her knees at Gaea’s feet, Daena held on, tears streaming down her face.

An ether-storm shrieked and boomed around them, their clothing whipped by a gale of contorting reality. In all his imaginings, he never conceived this thing, this genemar, could be so wild… so uncontrollable. Gaea had forged it herself, and it fought like a demon to be rid of her. It was like Senalloy said, ‘creation run amok’, pure power, pure unfettered chaos. To risk using something like this as a weapon—the Daergons were truly insane.

The rasping, crackling device shuddered just out of Gaea’s reach, hovering just beyond the edge of the crater in the floor where she couldn’t go closer. Crimson motes spun in rapid orbits close to the thing’s skin, sizzling with flash heat.

Little by little, the device crawled toward Gaea’s shuddering fingers. She leaned precariously over the edge of the precipice, a single finger brushing the bottom-most edge of the thing.

A white-flash crackled over the surface of the genemar, and with a savage wrench it whipped away toward the floor of the crater like an animal darting for its burrow.

“Daena grab it!” Gaea yelled.

Perhaps it was pure instinct, or just the desperation of the instant—Daena lunged forward and threw out her hand. The air bent and churned as her power halted the device hairs from phasing into the solid surface of the floor.

“Can’t—see.” Daena gritted. Energy crackled and flashed on the surface of young ascendant’s skin. Muscles standing out like cables, she reeled the thing up a pace but seemed at her limit. “It’s slipping!”

The all-mother dove into the crater and literally tackled the device. She belly flopped on the sharp rocks on the bottom with a thud and grunt. As she smothered the item with her body, the violent fluctuations and tremors faded to silence.

The thrumming of the genemar went quiet.

Daena collapsed on the floor spent. Bannor sagged like candle left too long in the sun.

The device pulsating under one arm, Gaea pushed up to her knees with a groan. She let out a sigh. “Got it.” Brushing away the rocks embedded in her skin, she looked up toward him at the lip of the hole. She tried to rise to her feet, then plunked down on her haunches again. “Uhhh, no.”

Gripping her head like she thought it might explode, Marna peered over the edge at Gaea with wide eyes. She glanced toward him and the collapsed form of Daena. “We’ll get you—”

A boom from somewhere above them cut over the sound of her voice.

Bannor groaned. It appeared that now that they had secured the weapon, the Daergons and Baronians had no intentions of letting them use it.

Return to Contents

Chapter Twenty

I lay on my back in that destroyed lab
and wondered to myself. Did I just save the
universe or destroy it?
—Kumiko Dinai “Daena” Sheento,
Ward Prodigal of Malan

Bannor winced as another blast made the structure around them shake. The disturbance caused by the genemar seemed to be clearing, the previously dead shaladen on his arm sparked and he felt an inrush of eternity’s energy. With the powerful weapon’s return to life came a barrage of voices demanding status, instructions, and information. The inrush of data made him dizzy, forcing him to throw out a hand to catch his balance. Along with the jumble of telepathic information, his nola sight flared into being.

Already drained from the ordeal, he just clenched his eyes shut and gripped his head against the pain. He didn’t even realize Sarai was next to him until she shook his shoulder.

Megan and Tal pulled Gaea out of the pit still clutching the genemar. Since she tackled it, the device had quieted, looking no more dangerous than a shiny melon freshly plucked from a field.

“Thank you,” Gaea said, nodding to them and brushing the dust and rocks from her body and hair. With the genemar’s defenses down, she seemed to be regaining her strength. The all-mother cringed as another explosion shook the citadel. She gritted her teeth. “I guess it was foolish to hope we’d have even a moment to recuperate.”

“Damn,” Tal growled. “Would everyone just shut up! Yes, the telepathy is back up and yes, we’re frelling being attacked! We expected that…” He shook his head. “Megs, me and Terra will get in front of this thing.”

“Go,” Megan said. “Apprise me as soon as you know the score.” She winced, rubbing her temple. “Assuming I’m not deaf by then.”

“Done.” Tal nodded, dashed into the corridor, grabbed Terra by the arm and the two of them vanished.

Bannor heard similar yells for order amongst the minds chattering back and forth on the shaladen telepathy. Usually such communication was reserved just to the human servants of the eternals but the powerful voices of the elders were echoing for order, and giving direction.

“My One?” Sarai shook him again.

He held up a hand. “I’m—I’m okay. My head—feels—ready to—explode.”

Daena lay on the floor gasping for breath like a fish out of water.

“Mother,” Megan said. “I can’t leave this all to Tal. There’s too much going on. Can you secure the genemar?”

“Yes, daughter,” Gaea answered. “We will be along to help as soon as we recover enough to be of use.”

Megan nodded. She thumped Bannor on the shoulder, nodded to Sarai and Marna and vanished.

The Kriar matriarch held a finger behind her ear. “This is the big one,” she said. She drew a breath and swallowed, fear showing in her eyes. “I’m getting reports of hundreds of Baronians and dozens of dreads. We don’t have a count of the Daergons but there’s more than fifty.”

Sarai stood up. “One moment.” She stepped back away from the crater until she had a good space between her and it and touched the shaladen on her arm.

In a flare of light, Janai, Ryelle, King Jhaan, Kalindinai, and Senalloy appeared in front of her. She hugged her sisters and parents, obviously glad to see them unhurt after the surprise events of the day.

Gaea bent down by Daena and put a hand against her cheek. “That was very good daughter.”

The auburn haired ascendant blinked green eyes that had barely any glow left. “You think so?”

“You saved us…”

“She saved more than she knows,” a strange male voice said from nearby.

The sound made Bannor lurch and the Kriar guarding Marna swing around. A young man in his twenties, red-brown hair tied in a top-knot, and dressed in a simple black tunic and leggings stood at the edge of the crater. He had thin lean appearance with slightly upturned eyes and upswept ears that suggested elf blood somewhere in his heritage. The power of the creature was unmistakable and Bannor sucked a breath.

“Kell.”

The young man nodded. “Indeed.” Another blast rocked the structure making dust and debris rain down in the room. Kell closed one eye and looked up. “Their method of knocking does leave something to be desired.”

“Kell?” Gaea focused glowing eyes on him. “I feel I—know—you?”

“Not as well as I would have liked,” Kell admitted strolling forward, hands behind his back. He seemed completely oblivious to the Kriar weapons being aimed at him. He stopped by Daena and crouched down.

The auburn-haired girl scrambled back toward Gaea like a frightened animal, making a whimpering sound.

Kell rolled his eyes. “Sister, I did not come to hurt you.”

“And what did you come for?” Kalindinai snapped from the side of the room.

Kell jerked and focused on the queen. His eyes widened. “Cheesa? Dom—” His bit off his words. “Theln did not say you…” He shook his head, violet eyes blinking.

“Theln?” Marna growled stepping forward but was halted by Dulcere grabbing her around the waist. The Kriar warrior’s eyes were wide. There could be no way she would forget the power of this particular opponent.

“Theln?” Kalindinai echoed. “What does my mentor have to do with this?”

“Mentor?” Marna gasped. “He can only be referring to Belkirin Theln, a Kriar time master.”

“Theln is an elf,” Kalindinai declared. “The matron and trainer of the magicians of the Valharesh family for many generations.”

“She’s both, actually,” Kell remarked gazing at Gaea. “So beautiful. I always imagined you’d be this way.” He looked back to the T’Evagduran family.

Bannor saw an unmistakable longing in his eyes.

Senalloy moved out of the shadows. Dressed in the dark gray of the Nightslash elite with the hood up and not moving, the big Baronian had been almost invisible up until that point.

Kell gripped his chest and reeled back a step. His violet eyes going wide. His lips moved in a word, but it was so soft that Bannor didn’t catch it.

“Kell is it?” Senalloy said. “In Baronian, Kell is the honorific for the first born male in a family. Not Kell, but The Kell.”

“Y-y-you’re not s-supposed to be here,” he muttered. “None of you are.” The ground trembled and he looked up as if he could see something. “That makes this so much harder.” He looked down to Daena. “I am sorry sister. That is the only reason I came back. To apologize, and to thank you—for all the people who won’t have to suffer now.”

Daena stared at him. “What?”

“The genemar,” Bannor said realizing. “If you weren’t a completed ascendant, you wouldn’t have been able to hold it. It would have gotten away.”

The man in black pressed his lips together and nodded. “It would have fallen into the hands of the Baronians and with two chaos devices…” He shuddered.

“What does Theln have to do with all this?” Marna demanded.

He shrugged. “To me she was Counsel Theln of dasta Azygos in exile, fighting to destroy Daergon Timmoran of coup council Fabrista.”

Dulcere gripped her head. <What?>

“Future imperfect,” Marna murmured. “That hasn’t happened yet, but it will if we let those dark eating blights gain power.”

Kell closed his eyes and bowed to Marna.

“This is all fascinating I’m certain,” King T’Evagduran interjected, “but while we blather, my home is getting blown to dren. Say goodbye or whatever, and leave us to deal with the enemies on our doorstep.”

“Yes,” Kell agreed. “The timing could be—better.” His gaze went to Gaea. “Mother, could I have a hug before I go?”

Gaea narrowed her glowing eyes but nodded. Still holding the genemar, she put an arm around Kell, and the young man pulled her close and pressed his face into the curve of her neck.

As he held the all mother, his figure shimmered and glowed, becoming translucent. He lifted his head and gazed at Senalloy. “Damatak, gi midira,” he murmured as he faded from view. “Damatak…” His last word seemed to hang in the air before fading away.

At the last instant the Baronian woman stiffened and a bolt of realization crossed her features. Her throat muscles worked. “Damatak,” she murmured. She rubbed at violet eyes suddenly brimming with tears. “Damatak, my son…”

Return to Contents

Chapter Twenty-One

I saw a lovely part of a horrific possible
future and I can barely think of it without
tears in my eyes. Whoever would have
thought a Baronian war-witch could ever
become so maudlin?
—Senalloy Moirae Corresont,
Kul’praelor Malanian Nightslash Elite

As Kell vanished it felt to Bannor as if a piece of him had been ripped away. The universe was truly a bizarre and wondrous place. That boy, that man, had been a garmtur. He had elven blood and baronian blood. What had he said to Kalindinai? Cheesa? An elven honorific female relative two or more generations removed. Domma? Sarai a grand-mother? He swallowed and looked to where the man had vanished from Gaea’s arms. That would make Kell his…

“My grandson,” Sarai murmured with wide eyes.

Another vibration rattled through the citadel making Bannor shudder. He shook the thought out of his head and forced himself to straighten up. He bent down and lifted Daena to her feet. Pressing her hands together in his, he pulled on the shaladen’s limitless energy and pushed it into the girl.

The auburn-haired ascendant rocked her head back, rising up on her toes. “Oh whoa,” she murmured. “Thanks. Mmmm.”

“Since it is time for battle,” Gaea said. “Let me summon one who lives for it.”

The way the green mother said it made Bannor’s skin prickle. To hear that tone coming from Gaea made his heart beat faster.

She raised a hand. “Bhaal,” she intoned.

In a blaze of light, the Lokori woman appeared. In flourish of blue hair, the female knelt before the goddess and spread her hands in supplication. “Mother, I come,” she murmured.

“Bhaal,” Gaea said in a thrum. “My enemies are here. It is time to make war.”

The Lokori’s head came up and her golden eyes flashed. The creature bared her fangs in a grin. “Show me, Mother.” She let out a guttural snarl. “Give me battle.”

“Daughter, unsheathe thy claws.”

Bhaal growled and spread her hands, energy licked through her arms as claws of infinite sharpness rasped into being around her fingers. She rose to her feet and bowed to Gaea. Her gaze went to Marna.

“No,” Gaea snapped. “I will show you the enemy.”

Bhaal sniffed and bowed her head.

“Gaea you’re insane,” Marna breathed.

“They seek to dominate. I will teach them fear.” She turned to Bhaal. “Approach me, Daughter.”

Bhaal stepped close and Gaea put her hand on the Lokori’s head. “Bhaal, you will be my defender, my knight, you already have your weapon, this is your armor.” In a shimmering haze, liquid silver seemed to flow out over the creature’s body, making her skin look like the reflective surface of a mirror. “Your devotion to me will be your strength. Your faith, your thoughts to me will give you my power. Think of me, my child, give me your love and feel yourself grow strong.”

The Lokori stared into Gaea’s face, her expression already one of fanatical zeal. Her mouth opened and her eyes fluttered as eternity’s energies licked and crackled around the female’s trembling body.

“Yesss,” Bhaal hissed, hands clenching into fists.

Bannor stared at the Lokori. The sight of her made his insides grow cold; violence incarnate, a hurricane of slashing destruction that could be aimed and unleashed. Gaea was right, the enemy would know fear.

“That—is—scary,” Daena breathed next to him.

“You better keep control of her,” Marna said, pointing a finger. “If she hurts anyone other than the enemy, I will fold her to the size of a bug.”

Bhaal slinked to Gaea’s side a snarled at the Kriar matriarch.

Gaea put an arm around the Lokori, who made a whining sound at her touch. “Defend me,” she told Bhaal.

With a rapt expression, the Lokori nodded.

“This will be interesting,” Senalloy said, wiping at her eyes. “Let’s go.”

“Wish I had my armor,” Bannor muttered.

“Me too,” Daena agreed.

“What do we do about the genemar?” Sarai asked, walking up to stand by Bannor.

“Do?” Gaea said looking down to the device under her arm. “I’m hanging onto it. No place is safe in this citadel now, not even the ghost vaults.”

Marna gritted her teeth, but didn’t say anything.

The groups coalesced into a single force with the King, Queen, Marna and Gaea at the center. The valkyries flanked while the Kriar soldiers led. Senalloy, Ryelle, Janai, and Sarai stayed close with Daena and himself, gazes intent for every movement in the dark hall. Bhaal stalked down the corridor at Gaea’s side, her mirror polished armor glinting in the mage lights.

The King and Queen had not been in a hurry to rush into the battle, they had obviously been directing things telepathically since the first explosion. He could only imagine the huge disappointment if they had to give up that power. As leaders and generals, it was the perfect way to coordinate and direct forces. The two elves knew every niche and crack in the giant structure and were smart enough to use that knowledge to advantage.

“So, what exactly is our goal, and where are we going?” Bannor wanted to know.

“The infirmary is the rallying point,” Kalindinai said after a pause. “For now, we just eliminate any threatening enemies—”

Something boomed to the bottom of the stairwell ahead of them and pounded out into the main corridor. It was big—bigger than a dreadnaught, with the same gold skin with reddish veins running through it. It looked like some demented body mechanic had smashed three dreadnaughts into an even more distorted shell of brutish power.

The sight of the thing and the millions of threads associated with it made Bannor gape. “No way,” he murmured. “No frelling way.” He willed himself into battle form with a crackle of metalizing flesh. Beside him, Daena did the same.

Dulcere and Marna’s aides fired on the creature but might as well have been spraying water on it for all the effect it had. The monster hunched, its shoulders down. It was wider than a wagon. Even a Rhinotaur would have fainted at the sight of the beast.

“Get back,” Bannor told the Kriar as it started forward. “Quick!”

He started to intercept the creature but Gaea’s voice halted him. “Bannor, no. Bhaal, go!”

With a blood curdling shriek the Lokori leaped over their heads and lashed forward in a blur.

The new creature was faster than the dreads he had met in combat before, but compared to the speed of the savage Lokori, it looked to be trapped in amber. It struck once and only once, with enough force to crater the floor and make the entire citadel shudder. A rain of stone fragments made everyone dodge.

Bhaal was already sliding to a stop behind it, claws steeped in black blood. In an eyeblink, the thing’s chest had been laid open to the spine. Its demolished heart reduced to ribbons of shredded flesh.

The dread titan made a gargling sound, blood poured from its lips and its limbs quivered. It took a single step and pitched over with mushy thud.

The Lokori turned, eyes burning with flame. “These lives, Mother…” she hissed. “I give them to you.”

Gaea raised her chin and looked to Marna with an arch expression. The Kriar matriarch’s golden skin had turned pale.

“Very good, Bhaal,” Gaea said. “I accept your offer and you have my blessing. Any more of these you see, you may take at your leisure.” She raised a hand and her eyes grew bright. Bhaal staggered for a moment, but straightened. “The next you take, you may add its life to your own.”

The Lokori bowed.

“Proceed.”

Bhaal flicked the blood from her hands and sauntered into the stairwell access.

He glanced down at Sarai, who looked up at him. Her mouth still hung agape from the incredible ferocity demonstrated by the all-mother’s living weapon.

“I like that girl’s style,” Senalloy remarked.

“Style?” Kalindinai responded. “She’s an animal.”

“She’s fighting animals,” Senalloy said with a flip of her silvery hair. “A fitting choice of weapon I say.”

Dulcere and her mother glanced back at the Baronian woman.

When he looked to the valkyries, even those hardened warriors were shaking their heads and murmuring among themselves.

They started up the stairs, the battle cries, clashing weapons, and the low blare of war magic growing louder as they ascended.

“It appears the boomers turned out to be a critical addition to our defenses,” Kalindinai remarked. “I’m hearing they have three corridors bottled up. The magical enhancements our coven assembled on them have the Baronians and Kriar struggling.”

“At least some good news,” Bannor murmured.

“The attackers have too many soldiers in this press for there to be any good news,” King T’Evagduran said as they neared the top of the steps.

“I would say our best bet would be for me to avatar with Gaea again,” he said. “But our powers together would only make a difference outdoors where we could get at large numbers of the enemy. Otherwise we’d have to bring the citadel down on them.”

“If all seems lost, we will still entertain that option,” the King said. “I want these foul aliens gone from our lives.” He paused at glanced at Marna. “Present company excepted.”

The Vatraena made a grim smile. “I understood the sentiment. I feel that way myself.”

At the top of the steps, Bhaal snarled a challenge. The sound and the posture of the blue-haired Lokori caused a bolting Quasar and Eclipse to screech to a halt, burning plasma-swords and side-arms trained on the ululating knight of Gaea.

“Don’t attack,” Marna ordered.

Quasar’s jeweled features tightened and she swallowed and she stepped back. Frowning, Eclipse dropped the point of his sword. “Counsel, we must move quickly, before we are cut off.”

“Let them corner usss,” Bhaal purred. She opened and closed her hands, claws clicking and sparking with power.

The whole group staggered as another crash rocked the structure. A swarm of Baronian regulars came pouring through the gallery toward the stairwell.

“Dark! Dark! Dark! ” Eclipse cursed, firing into the group that charged the narrow doorway.

Bhaal did not move but stared with golden unblinking eyes at the onslaught. Around her, the rest of Marna’s guards leaped up the stairs and took positions to cover the doorway with energy fire.

Heart beating fast, Bannor surged up the steps in their wake. With the power of the garmtur he began ripping and tearing at magical threads. Daena laid about with her nola smashing groups of attackers back and tangling up their advance. King T’Evagduran, Janai, and Ryelle all transformed their shaladens into bows and started pelting the troop mass with arrows hurled by the strength of eternity. The three valkyries stood guard over their backs, spears ready and wings spread to shield them should enemies somehow get behind. Kalindinai summoned her staff and together she and Senalloy sent scorching blasts of fire and electricity booming down the hall. At his side, Sarai gestured and stone spikes erupted from the floor into the ranks of the hoard. A swing of her arm sent shards of sharpened stone shrieking into the faces of the oncoming enemy.

“Whoa,” he breathed.

“Forgot I could do that, didn’t you?” she remarked wiggling her eyebrows.

“Actually, yes,”

In a matter of moments, a carpet of blood and bodies covered the gallery floor.

Through it all, Bhaal stood like a statue as shots flashed past her. The enemy knives, axes, and weapons that came at her she batted aside with contemptuous swats of her claws. She simply stared intently at the churning Baronian formation like a hungry mongrel eying a huge flank of fresh meat.

“That creature is unnerving,” Bannor heard Eclipse mutter.

Unable to advance under the withering barrage of Kriar weaponry, shaladen and nola might, the Baronians must have decided to bring up their juggernauts because four of the monstrous brutes came bellowing out of formation.

Spells, arrows, and plasma bolts rained ineffectually on the hulking things as they pounded toward the narrow stairwell. Behind these living battering rams the regrouped Baronians advanced at a run.

Bhaal leaned forward. She let out a blood-freezing yowl and lanced into the oncoming creatures. The first dread seemed to explode as severed hunks of gold flesh went in all directions. As the beast went down, a red pulsating aura surrounded the Lokori and she seemed to grow. She speared the other dread in the back that tried to bypass her. Yanked it back toward her and sheared away its head with a slash.

Splashed in black blood, Bhaal let out another ululation as the monster’s power became hers.

The other two dreads fell on her, pounding and tearing. Their vanguard tied up, the Baronians tried to salvage their aborted charge, racing around the occupied Bhaal.

The gallery became a killing ground as the enemy tried to storm the power of five Shael Dal, six kriar elite, four elder warriors, two ascendants and the all-mother herself.

Gaea watched the clash with a grim expression, her white glowing eyes filled with anger and sadness. Blasts of magic and weapons came at them but deflected from a green barrier several paces from her outstretched hand.

Two on one did little to even the odds for the dreads trying to defeat Bhaal. Gaea’s silver metal coating and the life force of two juggernauts fueling her body, the Lokori took the punishment and sundered her enemies in an obsidian rain.

She stood over the corpses bathed in gore, writhing as mystic energies leeched into her body, making her skin glow as if she were on fire. The Baronians that tried to pass her fell into shreds.

“Give me your lives,” she moaned toward the enemy that had come up short on the far side of the gallery. “Come, let me feast on the life that flees your ripped carcasses.”

Something shimmered for an eyeblink on her right. The Lokori’s hand flashed out. A sphere of color flared around a body and went black. A Daergon Kriar, dressed in stealth armor, his face impaled on the ends of her fingers twitched and writhed, the plasma sword in his hand fizzling out.

Bhaal looked back to Gaea. “I may have these, yes?”

“Any that attack you, you may have,” Gaea pronounced.

The Lokori ripped her claws up through the warrior’s skull in a gout of white that made Bannor look away. The Kriar defenders all turned their heads, even Quasar.

“Abomination,” Marna muttered.

“They brought this on themselves,” Gaea said.

The Baronian commanders were no cowards, but the blue-haired demon was a truly harrowing creature. As Bhaal moved forward they ordered their soldiers back.

The gallery floor was so littered with bodies it was impossible not to step on a fallen soldier. In some places they were three deep. The smell of blood, burned flesh, and torn bodies made Bannor’s stomach want to hollow itself out. If he had to guess there were more than a hundred; maybe twice that.

“I’d dare we have their attention now,” Senalloy said, picking her steps carefully with her sword held out in defense. “It should draw some of the press away from our defenders.” She looked back to the T’Evagdurans. “Keep your weapons ready. Some of them may not be dead.”

Bhaal waited at the threshold into the corridor on the far side. She flicked the remnants of the battle off her claws, and surveyed the area with burning eyes. Marna’s thanes moved up but stopped well away from her.

Bannor moved a little ahead of the others, careful to stop behind where the ancient creature had paused. Blood matting her thick hair, and dripping down her silver skin-tight armor, the Lokori cast her gaze down at his feet then raised her chin and grinned, lips parting to show her elongated incisors.

She sniffed at him, nostrils flaring. “No fear.” She licked her lips.

He stared at the creature feeling queasy despite his ability to control his instinctive reaction to something so wild. “There’s a trap isn’t there?”

Bhaal raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth quirked. She looked down the hall, and rocked her head in the direction they needed to go. “They make hidden magic.” She blinked, clicking her tongue against her teeth. She sighed and stretched like a cat and leaned back against him, and made a dismissing gesture in the direction of the hall. “Make us chase; trap us—crush us.”

Bannor didn’t know what to make of this creature suddenly being willing to touch him, especially not in anger. He glanced to Sarai who had stopped well back from Bhaal. She frowned at him as the bloody female rubbed her shoulders against his chest, the way a cat might brush up against his leg.

He didn’t know why, but he had a history of wild things taking a liking to him.

“I don’t see the trap she’s talking about, Mother,” he said glancing back toward Gaea. “I’m inclined to believe her though.”

“Believe it,” Senalloy said, stepping up by him. “It’s a standard tactic.”

Bhaal tilted her head and looked up at the silver-haired Baronian woman. She unwound from around him and slid up to Senalloy and sniffed. “They are your tribe,” she cast her gaze at the corpses at their feet. She sniffed again. “Your scent is not like theirs.” She drew closer, sniffing. “You smell of Mother.”

Bannor guessed that must be why she was friendly all of sudden. He had Gaea’s power, he had her scent. The Lokori was drunk with the green mother’s energies, almost exploding with the life-force stolen from the dreadnaughts.

Senalloy eyed the Lokori the way she might an overly friendly serpent—one with a deadly bite.

“I’m going to cast a spell,” she said.

The Lokori stared at her with glowing eyes.

Senalloy’s hands traced glowing patterns as she went into a sing-songy chant. The light around her fingers grew brighter with each vocalization. With a yell she thrust a palm forward sending a ball of cracking energy down the corridor. Tendrils of blue-white magic licked out from the sphere, rasping against the walls floor and ceiling, casting a brilliant illumination on everything as it passed.

As the magical construct passed midway of the corridor, glyphs etched into the walls and floor became outlined, their surfaces burning bright red.

“Aie,” Kalindinai murmured. “Those are powerful. How did they scribe those so fast?”

“Some of the elite specialize in such traps,” Senalloy murmured with narrowed eyes. She looked back to Marna and the King and Queen. “We have to bypass this and keep our own forces out of there. That would take me a long time to dispel, and our time is better spent regrouping.”

Gaea frowned. She looked to Marna. “How safe is warping now?”

The Matriarch shook her head. “Bad. The Daergons will have gates focused here, waiting to snatch the first entity silly enough to try any kind of teleportation.”

“Even the shaladens?” Janai said.

Marna made a dubious expression. “I wouldn’t advise it.”

“No,” Ryelle put in. “Tal and Megan told me shaladen summoning when fighting Kriar was inadvisable.”

“Then let us use a practical approach,” the King said. He turned from the corridor put his hand in the corner. Careful of the corpses, he counted off three paces. “Sarai can you make us an opening here?”

Bannor’s wife-to-be smiled. “Done,” she answered. She stepped over to the spot indicated and pressed her palm against it. The stone made a gurgling sound. Sparks danced around her arm as the granite opened up and formed a squared off opening tall enough for any of them to pass without ducking.

The space opened up looked into narrow hollow that was obviously an unused part of Kul’Amaron. If Bannor had to guess, it looked like a buttress the builders had never gotten around to filling with rocks and mortar.

“This will take us under,” King T’Evagduran said, shining the light of his shaladen down the area. Another blast made him wince. “Go.”

“Bhaal,” Gaea said. “If you please.”

The Lokori sighed and skipped forward, claws snapping and glowing as she extended them. She dropped into the narrow space and stalked forward.

Marna’s thanes followed the Lokori into gap, dropping down to the dirt and gravel surface. Bannor jogged to catch up, giving Sarai’s shoulder a squeeze as he ducked in. Daena followed close on his heels.

“Sen,” he heard the King say behind him. “You and Sarai bring up the rear and close the opening after you.”

The Baronian nodded.

Bannor kept his attention focused forward but listened for the activity behind. He heard the jingle of valkyrie armor that signaled the burly warriors of the Aesir had dropped down. After a few moments longer, he heard the rumble of the rock cavity being closed by Sarai’s elemental powers.

He didn’t care much for the single file arrangement of their team. He glanced back past Daena, seeing Eclipse, then Marna and Dulcere, Gaea, Kalindinai, Ryelle, Janai, and Jhaan. He saw the glinting of Quasar’s jeweled face. She was serving as the rear guard for the royals. Behind them would be the three valkyries, Sarai, and Senalloy.

“Right at the next fork,” King Jhaan said.

Rumbles made debris and dust rain down from above. Bannor glanced to the thousands of tons of fortifications hanging over their heads. He swallowed. “Pick it up. Pick it up.”

At the head of their procession, Bhaal turned right without prompting. The creature’s animalistic exhibitions made it difficult to judge the Lokori’s true intelligence, but he bet she was far smarter than anyone imagined. Much of her actions were gauged to intimidate, to make herself seem even more powerful than she was.

“Two more intersections,” the King relayed. “Then left.”

The path that they were following appeared to be between levels of the citadel foundation. They were going roughly in the same direction as they would if they had been in the corridor above. He would have thought there would be hordes of vermin scrambling around in his huge space, but there was nothing—only dust and stone chips. Even muted by the thick stone, the sounds of battle seemed loud, the stone trembling with the power of the attacks being exchanged.

“Battle intelligence is favorable,” Jhaan said. “We’re doing well,” Jhaan said. “Having nearly everyone together worked to our advantage. We’re the only stragglers.” He looked back. “Sarai, push up to the front with Bannor.”

The group struggled in the narrow space, continuing to move while allowing Sarai to skip ahead in the line. He felt a wash of relief when Daena turned to let her pass and Sarai took his hand.

Another rumble created a fresh rain of debris. He felt Sarai’s hand tighten on his. “I want out of here,” she murmured.

“Definitely,” he agreed.

Bhaal turned left but stopped after only a half dozen steps. A giant piece of granite had dislodged from higher up and had blocked the passage. The Lokori slashed away a few melon-sized hunks of stone with her claws but it became obvious it would take too long. She looked back with gold glowing eyes and raised her chin.

The Kriar thanes looked back as well. In their time at the citadel, the Kriar had come to understand the different powers of the people who defended Kul’Amaron. Sarai gave his shoulder a squeeze and slipped past him and around the thanes to stand by the Lokori.

The blue haired creature leaned down to sniff Sarai. “Smell, goood.”

Sarai kept an eye on Bhaal and placed and hand against the blockage. The Lokori blinked at her, showing her fangs and sniffing. After a few instants the rock glowed and softened, flowing down into the passage and spreading out ahead of them.

The Lokori tilted her head as Sarai finished and leaned closer, sniffing around her abdomen. His wife-to-be leaned back, but kept herself still so as not to startle the creature.

Bhaal’s brow furrowed. “You have little one?” She grinned. “Make Mother happy, yes?”

“Yes,” Sarai said in a careful tone.

“I watch you,” Bhaal said, pointing to her eyes. She turned and swayed through the debris and continued down the gap.

Sarai stayed next to the wall, and let the three Kriar thanes continue past her. Bannor slipped next her and took her hand.

“Why does that make me feel uncomfortable?” she murmured.

“Because nobody sane wants that creature watching them,” Daena said behind her.

They advanced up the gap until the opening branched two directions. The overhead clearance made it necessary to crouch down to move. From the pounding above them, Bannor guessed they were beneath a passage. From the volume of the sound the fight must be directly above.

“Go about five paces up to the right,” the King said. “That should put us in the hall near the infirmary.”

Bhaal scrambled on hands and feet a little past the location, listening to the sounds. Without question they were under the battle. The stone blocks shook above them, particles of dust being vibrated off them. Getting up into that hallway with a fight in progress would be tricky.

“We’ll need to time this,” Jhaan said. “Several of our defenders are in a holding action but the front of the battle is very liquid.”

Sarai looked up and raised her fingers to touch the stone. After a few instants she frowned. “They’re right on top of us.”

“Sar,” Daena said, green eyes glowing brightly in the gloom. “You open it. I’ll go first and clear the way.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.

Sarai looked to her Father. King T’Evagduran pressed his lips to a line and cast a look to Gaea.

The green mother smiled. “Kumiko, please be careful,” she said.

Daena bowed her head.

“I’ll inform the defenders to watch for us and provide cover as they can,” Jhaan said.

Daena turned to Sarai and crouched down. “Do it, I’m ready.”

Everyone else in the tight space braced. He drew a breath feeling his heart speed. He would have to leap up and assume battle form once he had footing.

“On three,” Sarai told Daena.

The young ascendant brushed back her auburn hair and opened and closed her hands.

“One,” Sarai murmured. “Two—three!”

Unlike the other times Sarai had opened the stone, there was no time to be tidy or quiet. She slammed her hand against the low stone ceiling and the surface exploded with a roar.

As they knew, the enemy had been directly overhead. Sarai’s savage eruption of the floor sent a collection of dreadnaughts, Baronians, Kriar, and mecha flying. In the wake of that blast Daena leaped up and sent a cascade of nola power down the corridor.

Screams of surprise, the clang of metal crashing together, and the shakes of bodies and equipment colliding resounded through the citadel structure.

Despite the fierceness of the girl’s attack, plasma bolts and weaponry shot through the air around her and before she came down Bannor heard her yell.

Marna’s thanes shot up through the opening in a blur, followed by Bhaal. Bannor took Sarai around the waist and leaped up into the passage, shielding her with his body and willing himself into battleform.

Fast as he was, it didn’t succeed, he yelled in pain as a couple shots tore into his back and arm in stabs of searing pain. Flesh still crackling through its transformation to metal, he grabbed Daena’s arm, yanked her up and pushed both she and Sarai ahead of him. Arrows, spells, and plasma shot by on either side of them as a line of defending Shael Dal, mecha, Kriar, Felspars, and valkyries assaulted the Baronian and Daergon formation.

“Move! Move!” he heard Tal yelling.

Unburdened by the armored mass, Daena and Sarai easily outpaced him. He sensed more hits score on his battle form but could no longer feel them. Somewhere behind, he heard Bhaal’s terrifying battle yells and heard the screams of enemies being slashed and rent. Footsteps pelted up the corridor as Janai, Ryelle, and the King and Queen escorted by Senalloy overtook him.

Grabbing the shaladen on his arm, he changed it with a thrust of will, the weapon transforming into a tower shield in a hum of eternity’s magic. He turned and hunkered down urging the royals by him, deflecting Daergon and Baronian attacks. Ahead of him he saw green Gaea pop up out of the opening, lunge to her feet and make a clumsy run toward the defenders.

He moved to give her cover, pushing her past him and moving to block any oncoming shots.

Marna, Dulcere, Eclipse and Quasar followed by the three valkyries were the last out. He urged them around him. Quasar and Eclipse stopped on either side of him and turned, the defenses of their armor gleaming red as shots careened away from them.

Twenty paces down the corridor, the gallery where the enemies had been forced back looked like a tempest of thrashing bodies. Somewhere in the screams and chaos was Bhaal. Most of the shots coming toward the defending line had ceased, as the attackers found a more pressing concern tearing through the center of their formation.

“Dark,” Quasar muttered, the jewels on her face flashing. “That creature is unbelievable.”

“Gaea has some pretty scary children,” he muttered.

“Back up,” Eclipse advised. “We’ll keep any stray shots off you, you’re already hurt.”

The three of them retreated toward cover of the defensive line, fewer and fewer shots being directed toward the Kul’Amaron militia.

“Bhaal! Return!” Gaea’s voice boomed out.

A few heartbeats later the blue-haired Lokori bounded out of the press and came streaking back up the passage. The few shots fired at her appeared half-hearted at best. No doubt the survivors in the Baronian formation wanted to avoid giving her a reason to come back.

Unlike the battles previous, Bhaal was not untouched, fierce cuts and burns marred her lithe body, places where Gaea’s magical armor had been boiled away by close shots. Completely soaked in blood, she would probably swim in the nightmares of the survivors for a long time.

He and the two Kriar commanders pulled back to the safety of the perimeter, behind the heavily armed and armored “boomers” now in service to Malan. Nomar, the big assault mecha he met when the Karanganoi subnet first arrived, nodded to him.

Bannor thudded to a stop as Sarai rushed up to him, and gripped his arm. “My One? Are you…?”

He shook his head and grimaced. “They got a piece of me. Are you…?”

“I’m fine,” she growled. “You’re hurt again.”

He winced. “Is Daena okay?”

“She’s over there,” Sarai answered, pointing.

The auburn-haired ascendant sat against the wall, one of the valkyries was binding a wound on her arm. He saw Gaea standing back. Bhaal, blood soaked and injured, knelt at her feet. King T’Evagduran and the rest of the family were hunkered down around the corner conferring with a circle of Kriar, valkyries, and Shael Dal.

“So that’s Gaea’s critter?” Tal murmured behind him studying Bhaal. “No wonder them things give the Kriar nightmares.”

“Tal,” Sarai said. “Is one of the healers nearby?”

“Sure, we’re keeping them back where it’s safe,” he pointed.

Sarai dragged on Bannor’s arm and he thudded along after her. He knew if he willed himself back to flesh with blast gouges in his back, he better have a healer there and prepared. His ascendant body was tough and healed fast, but as he had learned with the Lokori battle, its limits could be surpassed.

Two elves, a male and female who he assumed were mecha, were tending a small group of Kriar, valkyries, and Felspar family members. Considering what the citadel was facing and the amount of power being exchanged, he was surprised they weren’t swamped with injuries.

He and Sarai staggered as a blast made the air shudder. Bhaal’s assault had only driven back one front. The defenders were still fighting in at least two other corridors.

He heard footsteps and saw Gaea pushing Bhaal in front of her. Up close, the Lokori looked even more frayed than she had in the corridor. The all-mother had removed the silvery armor, revealing the numerous burns, abrasions, and other damage.

The male mecha finished his work sealing a bone-deep gash in a valkyrie’s leg. He received her thanks with a nod and turned to face them. Dressed in black tunic and breeches with green eyes, a narrow face, and long translucent hair he was completely indistinguishable from any other elf in Malan in his outward appearance.

“Peace,” he said to them, in the pleasant hum of high Elvish. “I am combat medical technician Vinn, how may I be of service Arminwen?”

Sarai pointed to Bannor. “He needs fixing—again.”

“Star, we’re in a war, wounds happen,” he mumbled.

She made a growling sound. “I hate it when you get hurt protecting me.”

“Star, I’m always going to protect you.”

“My One, it’s always going to make me mad.”

He sighed.

“Lord Starfist,” the mecha said in a patient voice. “If you would turn your back please.”

He stepped up and presented his injured back to the physician.

“Fine,” the Vinn said. “I have the necessary capabilities to repair the damage. Please lie face down on the floor. Do not revert to normal until I request it. At that time, I will stabilize you and perform the necessary regeneration.”

Bannor nodded and did as requested. In the length of a few long breaths, the pain and necessary regeneration were done. He thanked Vinn and rejoined Sarai.

His wife-to-be was watching the other mecha healing Bhaal. The all-mother sat on the floor with the Lokori’s head in her lap, stroking the creature’s blood matted blue hair while the physician worked. With Gaea calming her, Bannor didn’t doubt that volatile Bhaal would tolerate practically anything.

He noticed Quasar and Eclipse watching the operation as well, a strange interplay of fascination and fear in their expressions. The Kriar usually kept their emotions well concealed, even in their threads. The Fabrista and the Lokori did not have a happy history, and it showed. Of course, as he understood it, that history was a result of the Kriar trespassing on worlds where they weren’t supposed to be. It still wouldn’t stop them from being emotionally scarred by the savaging they must have experienced.

He looked around, in the short time he’d been down it looked like the entire team was getting ready to fall back. Most likely they would be moving to help the defenders in the other parts of the citadel.

A familiar female voice rang in his mind. <Bannor?>

He composed himself and focused his thoughts. <Yes, Wren.>

<I need—> There was a brief pause. He heard and sensed a flurry of activity as Wren focused her mind away from the telepathic contact. He felt blows struck and heard explosions twice, first in Wren’s ears then in his because she was only a few corridors away. She focused back on him. <Need help!>

<On our way,> he thought.

“Wren’s in trouble,” he said aloud.

Gaea coaxed Bhaal to her feet. The Lokori tilted her head, glowing eyes peering at Bannor. “More battle?”

“An army more,” he answered.

The Lokori bared her fangs. “A warrior’s feast.”

He suppressed a shudder. Bannor oriented on his link to Wren, thankful to have his thread sight and senses back. He signaled Tal. “Tal, I’m going to go help Wren.”

The tactical commander of the Shael Dal looked up from his conversation with King T’Evagduran and flashed him a closed fist and a nod to indicate he’d heard. He glanced back at Sarai and thought for a moment to try to dissuade her from following. He gave up without trying. It would waste too much time.

Bannor turned down the hall, he made where he was going no secret, so anyone who wanted to follow would. He turned the shaladen back into a shield and pushed into a run, confident in Sarai and Bhaal’s ability to keep pace with him. Gaea would come along more slowly but she would have the others to guard her.

He blazed down the passage and around a turn and past the heavily fortified infirmary. The Baronian war-maidens, a half dozen valkyries and three Kriar stood guard outside. As he passed he saw that the treatment pallets appeared full with Wysteri, Mercedes, and Octavia all hard at work treating wounds with the assistance of a handful of the younger members of the Felspar clan.

Bannor rounded the next turn, stumbling as a roar followed by a shock that shook the stone underfoot. He caught his balance and increased his speed.

<Bannor!> Wren yelled in his mind. <Frelling hurry!>

<Almost there,> he called back as he rounded the turn into the next corridor. As the area lit up ahead of him, he saw the source of Wren’s panic—another dreadnought titan. The Kriar, ascendants, Felspars, and Shael Dal, and valkyries were throwing all their strength at the monster and the contingent of Baronians advancing in its wake.

“Everyone get down!” he bellowed, leaning into a full sprint.

Fighting for their lives, most of the defenders didn’t have the luxury of throwing themselves flat, but several ducked and that gave him the space he needed. Wren, her clothing shredded on her lithe body stood toe-to-toe with the beast in a brutal clash of naked power versus skill.

He leaped over the back ranks of the defensive line that included three Kriar officers, Loric, Ziedra, Euriel, Vanidaar, Azir and Damay. Shaladen Dominique, Corim, Megan and Adwena, Cassandra, Dorian, and Desiray were pelting the corridor with arrows, energy, and spells, keeping the enemy from slipping around the fight.

Heart drumming in his chest, Bannor turned himself into a catapult shell willing himself into battleform in mid-flight, increasing his mass the whole time he hurdled through the air. Black blood sprayed as his fist pounded the creature’s head back, and his knees slammed into the behemoth’s chest. Despite the titan’s prodigious strength it fell back under the massive hit.

The beast let out roar as it smashed to the corridor floor with all of his weight crushing down on top of it. He knew better than to stay anywhere near those powerful arms and rolled off into the midst of the Baronians and Kriar with his shaladen shield up, ripping and tearing at every thread in sight. Blasts and spells came at him and he braced for it. The indestructible shaladen shuddered under the power, but tons of weight made him able to shrug it off. His throat tightened as he sensed the Daergons flickering through the ether toward him. He snatched for their threads but his grip slipped off. They moved so fast and kept their bodies shifting. With a realization that made him go icy inside, he realized they had devised a way to block the Garmtur.

Behind him, Bhaal descended on the staggered titan with savage howl and an eruption of black blood. The Lokori’s battle cry became a stone-shaking roar as the juggernaut’s immense lifeforce burst into blue-haired creature’s body.

Uttering battle-crazed shrieks, Bhaal launched past him into the group of oncoming Daergons. Claws flaring with Gaea’s power, she blazed through them, rending and tearing at hurricane speed. Shielded by their new defense, the Lokori’s ultra-sharp talons hit and deflected. Staggering the enemy warriors but drawing no blood.

Bannor couldn’t grip the threads of the Kriar themselves, but threads of their shields remained vulnerable. With a heave of will he clamped down on the main paths of power energizing their defenses. The interruption lasted only an instant. That eye-blink gave Bhaal all the opportunity she needed to rip through the hearts and minds of the rogue Kriar in gouts of white blood.

The golden invaders went down in shredded messes as Gaea’s ferocious knight stalked forward letting out a hungry ululation.

The half dozen Daergons at the back of the Baronian formation preparing to join the fray paused, staring at the blood-soaked apparition. With a nod from their leader, they vanished and in their place two dreadnaughts came bellowing and thrashing through the group toward Bhaal. Still stoked on the power of the titan, the Lokori lashed through the lesser dreads as if she were parting curtains. She let out the yowl of a great hunting cat as their power swelled through her body.

A few of the bravest of Baronian elite charged her and exploded into grisly pieces under her god-like ferocity. That final display of strength broke the Baronian resolve, the ranks turned and fled.

<Holy frell,> Wren murmured in the back of his mind. He felt the blonde ascendant’s awe and disgust at their ancestor’s gruesome strength.

“Come on, you craven spawn,” he heard Gaea say. The all-mother had followed at greater speed than he imagined she might. She stood behind the line of defenders flanked by Quasar and Eclipse. She thrust the pointed end of the genemar toward Bhaal. “Do it. You know you want to. You know you need to…”

“Mother?” Ziedra said. “What…?”

Bhaal stood in the empty corridor, she had not bothered to give chase. She stood in the center of the carnage and looked back to Bannor. Her expression looked like a little girl that just had a prized toy stolen. “They ran away.”

He drew a breath, trying not to think about the sundered bodies all around him. He turned his head, noting the sounds of battle no longer shook the halls. With a sigh, he reverted back to normal flesh, feeling the energy rush out of him. Bhaal’s demonstration may have been enough to rout the entire assault. To carve through two of the titans must have shaken their confidence, despite the superior numbers and strength of the attackers. Who knew how many elite Baronians lost their lives to that enterprise? It would have been costly. Unfortunately, the enemy resources were larger than the greatest nations on Titaan—a thousand or ten thousand did not appreciably deplete their strength.

Shaking his head, he turned back. “Quick, we must move, they will regroup soon. Those Daergons will figure out we just got lucky.”

“Lucky?” Wren gasped. The blonde ascendant staggered and went to one knee. The ascendant’s immortal flesh looked torn and discolored, her clothing nothing but tatters. “You kicked their arses!”

He shook his head. “Trust me.”

“He’s right,” Eclipse said in the back. “Let us retreat to the infirmary corridor.”

Bannor went to Wren and gave her a hand up. Eyes wide, Ziedra and Damay, came up and took Wren’s arms over their shoulders.

Megan’s wings fluttered in agitation as she frowned at the scene of carnage. “Are you certain? Should we let them take this position?” She turned to Loric who was leaning on Cassandra and Desiray.

The gray-haired elder frowned. His gaze flicked to Bannor and then to Wren. He shook his head. “We’re spread too thin and the enemy can reinforce too easily. The infirmary corridor is the most defensible. I—we—need time to get back to full strength.”

“Come on,” Bannor made shooing motions. “You heard him. Go, Bhaal and I will cover your—” He jerked as a pair of blood slimed arms wrapped around him from behind. “—retreat.”

He swallowed. Wasn’t it bad enough baby ascendants and dragons fancied him—did he really need murderous beasts fawning on him too?

“Bhaal?”

The Lokori made a murmuring sound. “You helped me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Bhaal.” Still, he much preferred a bloody hug to being carved into pieces. Sarai stared at him. He made a helpless gesture.

“Bhaal, we have to watch for enemies.”

Her chin on his shoulder, the blue-haired creature made a rumbling sound. “Bhaal watching.”

He ushered Wren and the others ahead of him. As they plodded toward the infirmary Wren glanced over her shoulder and sent him a private thought. <I can’t believe you’re letting that death machine hang on you.>

He looked down at Bhaal’s blood soaked hands and trembled a little. <How do you propose I make her stop?>

Wren sighed and nodded. <Thanks for the save though.>

Her parents cast worried looks at their daughter. Vanidaar still looked weak; Damay and Ziedra little better.

He smiled at her. <That’s what brothers are for, right?>

She gave him a weak smile. <Right.>

Gaea hung back to walk beside Bannor, picking her way carefully around the bodies and debris. Quasar and Eclipse stayed behind her. Sarai, and Senalloy also fell in with him.

“Sorry if I scared you, Star.”

His wife-to-be gazed into his face violet eyes unblinking. She put a hand on his shoulder. “I wasn’t scared, not that time.” She frowned at Bhaal who was hanging on his other shoulder.

Bloody fingers teasing his hair the Lokori met her gaze, tilting her head, she blinking glowing gold eyes at his wife-to-be.

“Bhaal,” Gaea said in a low voice. “Stop antagonizing Sarai.”

The Lokori pushed out her lower lip and shuffled over to walk with Gaea. Eclipse and Quasar made a wide space for the blue-haired female.

Pushing the dark hair off his shoulders, Corim daubed the perspiration from his brow. The man was scratched up, and his chain-mail hauberk rent and melted in places. He glanced over his shoulder to Bhaal and shook his head. “Truly a savage god.” He looked down to Senalloy’s hand as the lady Baronian gave his shoulder a squeeze. The man pressed his cheek to her knuckles which seemed to delight the silver-haired woman. Corim nodded to Bannor. “Friend Bannor, why do you say you were lucky?”

“The Daergons were blocking my power and Bhaal’s,” he answered. “I couldn’t do anything to them and neither could she.”

The other savants jerked eyes going wide in concern.

“Then what—?”

Bhaal grunted. “Mother’s boy-boy smart.” She made a murmuring rumble in her throat. “He bent their magic so my claws could reach.” She bared her fangs and growled. “That not work again. Gold ones too smart for that.”

“That’s four Daergons down though,” Quasar said. “Plus the four Eclipse and I took out, this has been expensive for them.”

“I don’t understand,” Bannor said. “What are they after? Marna? Since she’s hiding here, doesn’t that accomplish what they want?”

“They can stage a coup but it won’t stick,” Eclipse said. “There are so many loyal to her on Homeworld, that she would simply reform a new dasta in exile. They need to kill her, Dulcere, and Dominique—and all three are here.”

Dominique who was walking ahead of them next to Adwena shot them a fierce grin. “Let them try.”

Bannor felt a twist in his gut. “There must be more to it than that. Couldn’t they just destroy Titaan? I sensed the weapons on Homeworld that could do it.”

“Titaan is prized world,” Quasar said. “Family Techstar has holdings here, and it is the birth world of Cassandra.” She gestured to the gold mage. “The Kriar people owe her for breaking the Jyril curse, as a result, a great number of monitor portals watch this planet. They can’t mount that size of an operation without it being blocked and having the attempt traced back to them.”

The group came to the first turn, the three Kriar officers in the lead checked and covered and nodded everyone ahead.

Quasar sighed and cast her gaze toward Cassandra. “Destroying Titaan or killing Cassandra unprovoked would be political suicide for the Daergons. It would destroy any remnant of popular support. As it is, up until now, they’ve kept their collaboration with the Karanganoi Baronians secret. The fact that they openly backed the assault shows they’re getting desperate. They can’t keep us from circulating that information forever.”

“I can’t imagine how they think they can pull it off,” Sarai said. “I mean, we’ve almost doubled the number of Shael Dal. Now we have the ascendants and Gaea too.”

“The genemar is the source of their confidence,” Gaea said. “It is our boon and bane that they are apparently not proficient with it yet.”

“What do you mean, Mother?” Ziedra asked.

“I deliberately made Bhaal a threat,” Gaea said. “She is the reincarnation of something the Kriar very much hate, and I increased her powers so that they would have no choice but to fear her.”

The Lokori wiggled her eyebrows and rolled her shoulders and sniffed. She sucked on a taloned finger. “I am target.”

“Target?” Bannor wondered aloud. “Target for what?”

“Their genemar,” Gaea said. “I hoped to alarm them enough that they would bring it into the battle to use it on her. It would give me an opportunity to destroy their genemar.”

“You made Bhaal the bait?” he said feeling cold.

Gaea sighed and nodded. “She agreed.”

“Bhaal make good bait,” the Lokori said showing her fangs. “Protect Mother.”

“The strategy is well conceived,” Vanidaar said. “We may yet still force their hand. I am still weak, but recovering. Your tactic with Bhaal has given me an idea that may prod them into trying.”

Wren straightened, a concerned expression furrowing her brow. “Father?”

“Daughter, you have done your part,” the red-haired ascendant said in a voice that grew stronger. For an instant, a reddish glow flickered around his body. “It is my turn to step forward. Principles have kept me from using my Kul’vita Nola in certain ways. I think it is time to break with that restriction and give the enemy something new to worry them. We have fatigued and injured warriors—it is only fitting that the enemy give up their vitality to restore what they themselves took.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will,” he promised. “The Daergons and their allies seek to crush us in this press. Now, they will feel the sting of our return push.”

Return to Contents

Chapter Twenty-Two

To what extent should a man go to win a
war? Especially if losing the war means the
death of your wife, your children, and
everything you hold dear. Do those
circumstances justify destroying the souls of
the enemy so that they have no chance to
stand before their gods in judgment but are
instead consigned to non-existent oblivion
as if they never were…???
—Vanidaar Kergatha,
Baron of Cosmodarus

The remainder of the short walk back to the infirmary corridor was spent in silence. Bannor felt his heart beating and inside his bones seemed to quiver. The sounds of skirmishes echoed in the corridors, likely roving patrols of the new Malanian subnet engaging retreating enemy squads moving to regroup. The Baronians had backed off, but not far, they still lurked within the walls—able to strike again in moments. The powerful aliens were committed and once they decided on a plan of action they would come swarming down the corridors. He felt the tension in Sarai and the others. They sensed that this might be the battle that ended this bloody conflict—one way or another.

With the Kriar commanders in the lead, their group rounded the corner into the infirmary corridor. Giant sentinels stood watch there, ones Bannor did not expect. The Kriar weren’t prepared either and they shrank back, dropping the aim of their weapons.

Armor gleaming, eyes burning with white fire, eternal Koass stood in the corridor arms folded. Next to him stood massive blue-skinned Garn the eternal of strength, and Czar the eternal of magic. The sight of those powerful creatures made Bannor go icy inside. This did not bode well—if Koass was here, things had escalated to a terrible degree.

“Kay!” Megan flew out of the middle of their group and into the arms of the Advocate Eternal.

Eternal Koass reeled back a step under the force of the air maiden’s power hug. The stony expression on the immortal’s face softened and he pushed a hand through Megan’s glossy blonde hair.

The shael leader looked to Eternal Czar. “Milord, how did you recover so quickly?”

Dark Czar fingered his mustache, his shadowy eyes growing dim. “I had magicks prepared. They just wouldn’t work with Kul’Amaron out of phase. When Gaea restored normal time I recovered quickly. I was able to retrieve Loric with but a few moments work,” he gestured to the gray haired elder who nodded back. “That is how he is with us now.”

“I wondered how Loric went from out cold to thundering away,” Dominique murmured swaying out the group toward the eternals. “Hey Cuddly Bear.” She put her arms around Garn.

“Hey Babe,” Garn rumbled, dropping to one knee and enfolding the dark-haired woman in arms that could shatter mountains. She gripped him around the neck and kissed him.

Koass put an arm around Megan and faced them. “Friends, the Daergons have forced our hand,” he said in an ominous tone.

Gaea moved forward. “What has happened?”

“They have attacked the Protectorate with the genemar.”

“Kay?” Megan said in an astonished and concerned voice.

Bannor felt that twisting in his guts tighten. “I didn’t feel it.”

“It happened while Kul’Amaron was cut off,” the eternal said. “They tried on several of us. It was only Lady Gaea’s sacrifice stones,” he touched a chain similar to the one Bannor wore around his own neck. “And the defenses of Eternity’s heart that warded us. The Daergons have forgotten the truce.”

“They haven’t forgotten,” Quasar said from behind Gaea. “Dark take them. They want to incite a war again.”

“If dasta Fabrista cannot restrain the rogue elements of their regime,” Koass growled. “I will tear apart Homeworld until I find them.”

“Which is what they want,” Eclipse growled. “Does Marna know?”

“Nethra is telling her now,” the eternal responded. “I am here because I believe their next press will focus on this group.”

“Lord Koass,” Vanidaar said.

The Eternal looked over with glowing eyes.

“I believe I may be able to force our enemies to move to our design.”

Koass’ brow furrowed. “Oh?”

“Leave us get back to the infirmary,” the red-haired ascendant said. “We will want to be entrenched. I believe it will drive them at us.”

“Bring that on,” Garn rumbled. “I got some Daergon heads to crack.”

Koass glanced from Vanidaar to Wren. The blonde ascendant raised her chin. “All right,” he said after an instant of decision. “Let’s move.”

With the three eternals in the lead they went back up the corridor, the powerful beings checking down the side halls before crossing. Even these creatures acted cautious.

Bannor heard Ziedra mumbling something quiet to Wren and Euriel, and the mother and daughter nodding.

“This is not good,” Sarai murmured. “If the Eternals start going at it, Kul’Amaron could get leveled.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

They reached the heavily reinforced segment of corridor that contained the main infirmary. The location had three hallways to defend. Being virtually at the heart of Kul’Amaron, the walls were solid magically-reinforced granite more than a pace thick. When the Karanganoi sub-net installed Wysteri’s secret treatment chamber, the entire infirmary area was sheathed in Kriar metals and further reinforced with artifice protections. Aside from the ghost vaults, no place in the citadel had heavier defenses.

“Lord Koass,” Bannor asked as they moved through the line of defending valkyries, Kriar, and members of the subnet. “Do you think the enemies know the eternals are here?”

Garn made a growling sound. “We hope not.”

The hall and intersection immediate to the infirmary were choked with bodies. Marna along with Nethra, Tal, Terra, and the rest of the T’Evagduran family were standing together in a circle looking unhappy and uncomfortable. No doubt King Jhaan felt as Sarai did, that if the powerful immortals decided to unleash their full strength it would destroy Kul’Amaron.

King T’Evagduran stepped forward and bowed to Koass. “Lord, I don’t want to sound petty, but this is my kingdom and it has been a hard enough to keep this conflict secret.”

Koass waved a hand. “I understand your concern. We will try to keep things under control.” He turned back to Vanidaar. “Lord Kergatha believes he has a tactic to bring the enemy to us.”

“I do,” the ascendant answered, narrowing his white glowing eyes. “Before I had this body it would not have been possible, but now…” His voice trailed off. He let out a breath. “It is less than palatable, but the situation now demands it.”

“Father?” Wren said, edging up and putting a hand on his shoulder and searching his face with blue glowing eyes. “Why are you being so vague.”

“Daughter, spirit magic is never to be taken lightly. Taking the life from others is—” He frowned. “Less than honorable.”

“Killing the enemy is killing the enemy,” Garn said in his deep voice as he loomed over them.

“Not like this,” Vanidaar said. “Still, I have resolved to do it, and so we shall. Prepare your defenses as they will come at us. Also bring the injured into the infirmary, I will perform the ritual in there.”

Bannor’s stomach tightened. He glanced at Sarai who was frowning. It sounded like Baron Kergatha was prepared to do something he really didn’t want to do.

Vanidaar looked to his daughter. “Li, I would like you and Lady Damay to provide me with energy.”

Wren’s eyes went wide. “Both of us? You could burn Malan to the ground with that much power.”

“I understand what I am asking,” he said in a serious voice. “It is as much for renewing myself, as it is for the defenses that you two can create. As I said, once I start this, considerable effort will be expended to make me stop.”

Wren glanced to Damay. The elder woman narrowed her white glowing eyes. “Trust your father,” she determined. “I believe I understand what he is at.”

“Bannor,” Vanidaar said. “Your assistance would be most beneficial. Can you combine our three abilities as you did in that first battle?”

Bannor felt his jaw drop. He blinked. “Uh, yes, but… as ascendants? I—” He blew out his cheeks. “That’s… a lot of magic.”

The man nodded. “Indeed. So, are covens of fifty Baronian elders. That is what we are fighting. Come, we must prepare quickly.”

“Czar,” Koass said. “I understand what tactic he will use now. Guard them, do not let the Baronian covens disrupt them.” Rubbing his hands together, the willowy mage eternal moved to stand next to Bannor. “Lady Ziedra,” Koass continued. “If you would assist Czar.” Glowing eyes wide, the ascendant of magic nodded. The advocate turned to the others. “Nethra barricade the West hall. Garn, you take the East. I will cover the North.” He turned to Gaea. “Mother, I believe you will wish to put your strength to the East. I believe that is where the major press will come.” He focused on Marna. “I advise dividing the Kriar and valkyries evenly across the three fronts.” He turned to Loric and King T’Evagduran. “I will leave the defense of our core to house T’Evagduran and house Felspar and their allies.”

Loric and T’Evagduran nodded.

The eternal bowed his head. “My blessings on all the defenders, may you stay strong in the face of what may come.”

Everyone, including the eternals all bowed their heads in unison for a few instants. When each raised their face to look around, eyes were narrowed and glinting with determination. With the eternals here, they would never have a better chance at victory. Whatever the Daergons and Baronians sent forth they must not only best it, but they would also have to pursue and finish the job to bring an end to the strife.

Bannor walked behind the Kergatha family as they headed into the infirmary. Cassandra and Desiray moved through the younger Felspars, touching faces, chests, and shoulders. Until this moment, Bannor hadn’t noticed how young some of combatants from Loric’s family were. Several were only children. Obviously, the youngest had been kept out of harm’s way but he saw a pair of twin boys who couldn’t be more than twelve or thirteen summers old, already dressed in armor and wearing weapons. The sight made his stomach tighten.

Bannor had been about the same age as those young boys when King Balhadd’s press gang dragged he and his brother off to be in the war. For the Felspar children, the big difference was that their parents were here in the fight with them. The way they saluted their father Loric and adjusted their weapons, they were well trained and briefed for the tasks they’d been given. Bannor noticed Wren looking at the children with a strange expression. He guessed she was probably thinking the same thing. What the cost of failure would be. What was Loric thinking in bringing his entire clan into this mess?

He didn’t know which was worse, risking the lives of their children, or sending them away and possibly leaving those same children without parents. Seeing how the Daergons had gone after the T’Evagdurans he understood why Loric chose to keep his entire family close where they could protect one another.

Vanidaar looked around at the injured folk lying on the tables, some of the wounds were serious, but Octavia, Mercedes, Wysteri and their assistants among the Felspars worked with calm efficiency. Bannor noticed that Vera was here among those helping out. The little woman came and put a hand on Wren’s shoulder, greeting Loric and his wives as they entered and began briefing everyone in the chamber.

“Loric,” Vanidaar said. “I think you should send the youngest into Wysteri’s inner treatment area.”

The gray-haired elder nodded. He gestured to Cassandra, Dorian, and Desiray and the three women gathered up a half dozen youngsters and took them into the heavily guarded Kriar healing vestibule.

“Octavia,” Vanidaar continued. “Will you Mercedes and Wysteri please stand by, I have some magic that will help heal your patients. I may also require your assistance soon.” He glanced back to his daughter and Lady Damay who had come up behind Bannor.

Eternal Czar and Ziedra pushed to the back of the room. The eternal leaned down and spoke in whispers to the ascendant of magic and the two of them began casting spells. With the eternal’s guidance, the powerful ascendant’s spells, already potent, seemed to be ten times as strong.

He felt Sarai give him a hug from behind. “I love you, my One.”

Bannor pressed her hand. “I love you too.” He stared at Vanidaar. “I sense this may really stir things up. Please be careful.”

She pulled tight. “I will, you do the same.”

“I shall.”

Damay and Wren situated themselves on either side of Vanidaar and the three ascendants joined hands. He turned and gave Sarai a kiss and stepped over to Wren and Damay.

“I’m going to do this slow,” he told them. “Ascendants are a little different than savants.”

“Thank you for being cautious,” Damay said, brushing at her dark hair and drawing a breath.

“Ready when you are Bannor,” Wren said.

“Okay, here we go,” he warned.

He touched Wren’s shoulder and envisioned his pattern and hers, meshing them closer and closer together. Two low musical pitches rang in his head, the tones coming closer and closer to matching. He touched Damay and found her pattern, drawing it in with his and Wren’s. In his mind began a dance of traceries, threads of power and magic, meshing, joining, and growing as he pushed the energy of his nola into each woman, making his abilities theirs, joining and combining their strengths into a single cohesive whole.

Wren alone had tremendous potential, her indomitable will able to command the raw force of Starholme. Despite all her strength, she was still young and inexperienced. Where Wren’s natural talent ended, elder Damay was a tower of knowledge and scholarly finesse.

The note thrumming in Bannor’s mind rose to a high clear peel, that made the skin on his arms and the hair on the back on his neck stiffen. A glow shot around Wren, Damay and himself as Eternity’s power came crashing through their bodies in a riveting strength.

Damay and Wren gasped, backs arching and eyes going wide. Bannor focused on keeping the tremendous power of the two ascendants balanced and in focus. The skin of the two women had grown hot under his hands.

Wren looked back at Bannor. Her expression was one of awe and concern. “Are you okay?”

He blinked, and drew a breath. “Y-yes. It—It’s a lot.”

Damay rocked her head back. “It feels—good.” She let out a breath. “Brother Bannor, you need to bring yourself more into the synchronous or the bleed-over from us will hurt you.”

“I’m afraid if I add my power it will burn us up!”

“Worry not,” Damay said with a knowing smile. “I can feel enough of you and Wren now to keep it under control.”

His brow furrowed. “Are you sure?”

She nodded.

“Okay.” He closed his eyes and stared into the combined patterns and began weaving his own threads more tightly through theirs, bringing the three of them closer and closer to a single unity.

Fire seemed to burn on his skin, and a warmth filled his chest. The ache he had felt from trying to keep the two powerful ascendants restrained waned to be replaced by a euphoric elation similar to when he had first been transformed. He felt and saw the threads of reality spinning around them as well as the colors of force and energy weaving in and out of Damay and Wren.

“Ah!” Damay made a moaning sound. “Yes, Brother, very—” She shuddered. “Very good.”

Wren swallowed. “Mmmf. Hard—hard to focus.”

He blinked. “Vanidaar, are you ready?”

“Ready, Bannor,” Vanidaar answered, his face set and brow furrowed.

Bannor steeled himself; four ascendants in a synchronized coven. Without Damay and Wren bracing him, he didn’t think he could hold a third. Drawing a breath, he focused on Vanidaar, and dove into the ascendant’s threads, gathering his pattern into the unity.

As the power struck through him, he faltered, and Wren and Damay, now aspects of Garmtur reached out and steadied him. Little by little he threaded his nola through the red-haired ascendant, and the Kul’vita through Wren and Damay. While the two force savants were raw strength, the Baron was the pulsing potential of all the life energies around them.

As the four of them moved toward becoming one, his senses expanded, adding the perceptions of the life savant to his own. The spirit energy of room’s occupants appeared in his vision as globes of potential all around them. Further off in the corridor and then spread out through the citadel. Collections of motes that must be the Kriar Daergons, the Baronians, and their creations were gathered in pockets throughout the vast structure.

As he pushed that enhanced awareness through the other three minds of their unity, he felt Vanidaar nodding. Wren and Damay, tempered that awareness, seeing those far off globes as sources of force—force they could touch and tap through the Kul’vita’s mastery of life energy.

“Whoa,” Wren breathed. “All the people, I can feel them—even our enemies. Dad, what now?”

“We are about to make their strength ours,” he told them. “They will have a choice. Stay in the citadel and be fuel for us, or leave and save their lives.”

“Or come at us to make us stop,” Bannor said.

“Aye,” Vanidaar said. “Are you ready?”

Bannor nodded.

Wren and Damay looked at one another. They both drew a breath and seemed to focus. Both gave their assent.

Vanidaar turned his attention to Czar and Ziedra. “Are you prepared?”

The eternal raised his head. He stepped behind Ziedra and put his hands on her shoulders. The savant of magic’s eyes already glowing fervently, flared and a purple illumination spread out from her.

“We are prepared,” they intoned together in a blend of voices, that made the walls resonate with their power.

Vanidaar raised his chin, then spread his arms. A purple shield like the one around Czar and Ziedra spiraled into being around the four of them. “Let our enemies feel the sting of their aggression.” He tightened his hands into fists one finger at a time and then pulled them to his chest with a jerk.

As the red-haired ascendant’s palms struck his skin, Bannor felt threads of magic spin outward, striking through the walls and magic around them. The air hummed and the atmosphere itself shuddered as reality itself seemed to flinch from the will that Vanidaar exerted.

Wherever the threads of the Kul’vita found enemy life, they struck and clung. In heartbeats, what started as infinitesimal lines swelled into cords as the life-forces of the Baronians and Daergons were leeched into their coven.

In instants, Bannor’s body already superabundant with power seemed ready to burst as the spirit energy of hundreds of crashed into him and the others. He heard Wren and Damay gasp, and saw Vanidaar lurch. With a groan, the savant of life swung his arms wide and shared their stolen bounty, sending golden sparkles of pure life energy speeding into every ally nearby.

Through the infirmary, injured valkyries, Kriar, Shael Dal, and Felspars all stirred as fatigue and injury were dispelled by the massive influx of healing magic. Vanidaar did not stop, treating each body around them like vessels for the energy. Filling each one in turn, giving preference to the immorts who could hold more, but charging each defender to their maximum before shifting to the next.

Every injury in the infirmary was gone, and all the valkyries, Kriar, Euriel, Loric, Cassandra, Desiray, Dorian, the King and Queen and a few others charged until they glowed before the first reprisal hit the outer defenses. The thunder that shook the citadel walls testified to how much the enemy disliked this new tactic.

“That’s done it,” Czar growled, brushing back the long tail of his hair. The eternal raised a hand and gestured, sending a streamer of red magic into the air as the ground shook again. “You seem to have gotten their attention.”

Eyes glowing with power, Loric hooked a finger toward Euriel, Cassandra, Kalindinai and then to Dorian. “Let us back up Czar and Ziedra.” The five mages joined hands, and then Loric and Cassandra each took one of Ziedra’s hands.

The savant of magic smiled. “Mother and Father, this is great, we get to work together.” She winced as the ether shuddered under a powerful strike that made the whole room seem to shimmer and flux. “Ooof. I think they’re really starting to feel it now.”

The five mages chanted, adding their strength and skills to the eternal of magic and the ascendant of magic. Vanidaar made sure that their coven never lacked for power, even as he continued to fill every available form within reach with the Baronian’s and Daergon’s energies.

Bannor’s thread senses allowed him to perceive the frenzy of enemy activity as they oriented and tried to counter Vanidaar’s attack. He felt and sensed the defenses they put in place, and felt Vanidaar use his portion of the garmtur to twist and circumnavigate their efforts.

“Keep alert,” Vanidaar murmured. “They aren’t desperate yet.”

Out in the halls, Baronian dreadnaughts, elites, and regulars backed by the Daergons crashed into the defenses shored up by the eternals. Through his shaladen, Bannor tracked the battle. Gaea, Bhaal, Garn, Aarlen, Quasar, Eclipse, Daena and a newly appeared Idun, and her two dragons, Tymoril and Kegari formed the core of the eastern front. Backed by valkyries, Kriar and half the allied Baronian women and several of the T’Evagduran subnet, they not only stopped the assault but pushed forward, as the enemy lost strength to Vanidaar’s attack.

His mind flickered to Sarai. She, the King, Janai, and Ryelle stood on each side of the room, shaladens out and ready. Sarai felt his attention and he felt her give him a telepathic kiss, a warm hum that started at his lips and spread through his body.

“They’re bringing up more troops,” Czar said. “Are you going to be able to handle it?”

“We shall—persevere,” Vanidaar gritted, his eyes like flames from the power they were channeling. “We are running out of recipients for the energy though.”

“Send it our way,” Loric said. “Let us worry about channeling it.”

To punctuate his statement another ground-shaking impact made the whole castle seem to flicker. Czar and Ziedra winced and staggered.

“It—it—is—a great deal—friend Loric.”

Another blast made the people in the room stagger and grip their heads.

“Daar, just hit me,” Loric said in a growl.

“As you—wish,” Vanidaar responded. He leveled a fist and aimed it at Loric.

The blast of power knocked Loric back a step. The powerful elder grunted and perspiration immediately poured down his face as the other members of the coven rose to their toes as the spiritual energy of hundreds pounded into them.

“Isis—eyes,” Dorian gasped.

“Goodness,” Cassandra breathed.

“Des, Eviria, Darin, Radian,” Loric ordered. “Pick a partner and anchor them.”

The white haired guildmistress and her children each took up positions. Desiray with Cassandra, Radian with Dorian, Eviria with Kalindinai, and Darin’Kel with Euriel.

“Dammmn…” Kalindinai growled. “I can’t—can’t form bindings fast enough to hold it!”

“Cross pattern,” Dorian gritted. “Spread the slack!”

“Ladies of the Chosen,” Loric rumbled. “Searga, Varthane, Shal’kar… We need you. I know you don’t know—magic. Spread out—take each of us by the shoulder, you will learn what we need of you.”

Looking at one another, the four Valkyries and three Kriar, previously injured in the battles, spread out one to a mage.

As the seven immorts moved to their task Bannor was forced to focus again on their union by a blast of pain that made the four of them reel. A tangle of ethereal and spiritual threads tangled in the space around them, the defenses erected by Damay, Wren, and Vanidaar blocking the immense thrust and fending it aside.

“Aieeouch!” Wren grimaced. “What was that?!”

“It was unpleasant,” Damay murmured, holding the side of her head with a jeweled hand.

“Some kind of soul magic,” Bannor murmured. “Whatever that purple shield was that Vanidaar put around us, kept it out.”

“It was—skharvarren,” the red-haired ascendant gritted. Sweat glistened on his face, as he kept the flow of magic moving, pushing it toward Loric for their coven to distribute and dissipate.

With the Kriar and Valkyries adding their bodies to the union, Loric and the others were struggling, but managing to keep up. Each of the mages glowed like beacons, their hands upraised and voices raised in a constant chant. Breathing heavily, their anchors stood with heads leaned back, skins glistening with silvery moisture that glowed.

He blinked. The anchors were actually perspiring magic! By some complex ritual Loric and the others were liquefying the magical energies.

Bannor’s attention was jerked back as another blast of skharvarren twice as strong as the last smashed against their defenses. Molten pain ran through him. It felt like something had pinched him in a vice. Damay and Wren groaned.

“Dad, we’re topped out,” Wren groaned. “May and I don’t have any reserve left! If we shunt the power, it’ll tear everything to pieces!”

“Loric,” Vanidaar gasped out. “We—need—some intervention. The next one will get through!”

“Working on it!” Loric rumbled.

“I am locating the source,” Czar’s deep voice assured them. “I have Koass and Nethra looking as well.”

“Your tactic is working, Daar,” Jhaan said, “They can’t get enough bodies crammed into range to block it. We’re pushing them back. You have to keep it up.”

“We’re—trying!”

“Too much of me focused on holding you together,” Bannor gritted. “I could find their threads—”

“Trust the others!” Vanidaar interrupted. “Stay focused, keep us together!”

Bannor turned his attention back to their task. Watching the threads of the enemy, they had piled up against the three battlefronts as Koass intended. However, just driving back the enemy did not get them out of this mess. They needed to divest them of the genemar—that posed the biggest threat.

The ascendant of life’s tactic had been well considered. The Baronians lived to fight, and backing down from a battle was not something they did easily. That reticence kept them engaged far longer than was wise. Weakened by the ascendant coven’s life drain and facing defenders now buoyed on a constant influx of healing and revitalization, they were being shredded.

Come on. Get desperate. The key move in this whole battle was to make the Daergons so concerned with the battle’s outcome that they struck with the genemar to turn the tables.

He felt Wren, Damay, and Vanidaar hoping with him. He sensed Daena’s ferocious whoop as she plowed into an ever weakening enemy. From another part of the castle Azir strove with gleeful abandon, seeing the tide shifting in their favor. Sister Ziedra exulted in the pure focus of magic, realizing a dream, hand in hand with some of the greatest mages in the realms fighting a legendary duel of wizardry.

Come on—crack. In his mind’s eye, something flared just out of the range of the Vanidaar’s attacking enchantments. A burst of intense magic that made him wince.

“Brace!” He yelled. At the same time, he spun the thickest threads he could manage, boring into the floor at their feet and through the ceiling into the sky.

Despite the dozens of magical shields erected around the chamber, the titanic barrage barely slowed, slamming through in a cascade that made the chamber flare star bright.

Wren and Damay screamed in pain as they were overwhelmed by a force that had to be something created not by dozens or scores but hundreds of Baronian mages gathered into a gigantic coven.

With an instant’s warning Bannor did the only thing he could think to save the others. He broke the coven, knocking the three of them away and let his body and the anchor thread act like a metal rod in a lightning storm.

In the last instant before the devastating strike hit, he did something he had not done in a very long time.

I wish…

He unleashed the reality-bending power of the garmtur, willing himself to be a perfect conductor for the magic, to allow the attack to pass through him and away from his family, friends, and loved ones.

Pain. In the tendays, and scoredays since the Garmtur first manifested in him, he and the agonies of the flesh had become all too familiar. This hurt. It hurt in so many ways that it was impossible for his mind to catalogue it all. He was being shredded, burned, crushed, and turned inside-out as a miasma of destructive soul magic, urged by a thousand alien wizards, crashed through him a screaming torrent.

Even the best conductor had limits, and the colossal attack simply went beyond all physical limits. Amid the conflagration, he felt himself melting.

He heard Sarai’s shrieks of terror. Wren and Damay’s gasps of dismay, and Vanidaar’s yell of frustration.

Even as he folded in upon himself, he focused on one thing… to push a flaming hand toward the source of his pain. He raised the invincible shaladen and stabbed it into the sky, imagining it thrust into heart of his enemy and sent every iota of the power raging through him into that target.

His last thought was to give his love and their unborn a kiss before collapsing down into nothingness…

Return to Contents

Chapter Twenty-Three

I always found Wren to be an interesting
study subject, but that boy, Bannor—
fascinating. I simply must find
a way to get a little private time
with him…
—Cassandra Kel’Ishtauri Felspar,
Master Archivist of Isis

Death. In recent days, the meaning of it had changed for Bannor. Under the right circumstances, having a body destroyed was little more than an inconvenience. That was the absurdity of it all—as if any ‘right’ circumstance existed for your flesh to stop being alive. More absurd to see your body dying and bail out of it before the loss of consciousness kept you from being able to unbind your essence from the core tao.

However, that was his monstrous true nature, a creature of pure-life that wore flesh the way mundanes wore clothes.

As he floated in the featureless white void, he could only think that something hadn’t gone quite according to plan. He had perception—thought, but no impression of incarnation or sensation. Around him lay only emptiness without a sense of scale or perspective.

In the last fractions of an eyeblink, he had thought to unbind himself. One of things about the Garmtur that had been noted by the other savants was his ability to skip beats of time in moments of crisis. Still, it happened so fast.

They thought themselves so clever, forming a coven and using Vanidaar’s magic. Apparently, it had been what the Baronians were waiting for—for them to gather enough power into a single target to use the weapon they had been holding in reserve.

The Baronians had almost succeeded. At least, he didn’t think they succeeded. He thought he recalled the backlash channeling out through the shaladen as his tao was wicked away by a staggering amount of magical force.

No way to tell now.

So, was this death for a savant? To be a spirit that went on for eternity without hope of sight, sound, smell or any other sensation? It was an end almost too cruel to contemplate, to forever exist alone with nothing but his memories.

However, contemplating it was all he could do. He felt no sense of time other than the subjective events of his thoughts tumbling one over another. Just a grand nothingness in which to laud the good things he had said, and regret the ones he had never managed to bring himself to say.

Could a tao-spirit go crazy? Was insanity a thing of flesh? For surely this nothingness with only himself in it would not-so-slowly drive him mad. Alone to consider all the things he could have done but didn’t. Remembering all the things he did do, and got wrong.

Sarai.

Her name conjured so many things in him. The thought of her would bring tears to his eyes if he had a body to cry with. A goodbye was such an empty consolation. Vhina—he would never see their beautiful child—and she would be beautiful because her mother was.

The Baronians gave him no choice. He had to protect his family, his friends, if he lost his life protecting them it was a good death. He cheated the reaper so many times, no doubt the bone-spirit had finally decided enough-was-enough. Perhaps he deserved it.

Sarai had gotten it wrong. She was not the one who was jihira, but him. From the moment they met she had been a star, shining light and warmth into parts of him long cold—long dead. He had been hiding in that cabin going about his mockery of a life, alive but not really living. There had been people he felt were friends and comrades, and they died—died like his brother because he couldn’t stop it. It made him wish he died in their stead. He rose in the Baron’s ranks because he became good at protecting others, ready to die because he couldn’t handle out-living another friend. Prepared to throw himself in harm’s way, somewhere deep down hoping it would be the final time.

Ironic, that when he finally had something to live for, his heroism finally managed to end the game. Heroism. Was it heroic to throw yourself in harm’s way when you didn’t care if you lived or died?

Damn it, he cared now—or at least he did before this happened. For the first time in his life he had started to come to terms with what he was, to embrace it, even like it. How could he not change, when so many others regarded him with such sincerity?

He tried to sigh and couldn’t. The reflex was there but the body wasn’t. No lungs to suck air with, no shoulders to feel the burden. Protecting Sarai, Kalindinai, Wren, Janai, any of them—it was as automatic as breathing. Putting the lives of others before his own was just something he did—old habits die hard… and really really painfully.

He wanted to laugh, to cry, to something… anything but sit in wretched silence and remember. If he had to it to do over a hundred times, he would make the same choice every time. He couldn’t regret his decision, only his mucked-up frelling luck—poor luck that went back as far as he could recall…

***

“Bannor Nalthane!” a strong clear voice called from inside the log house.

Kneeling in the dirt beneath the ironwood tree that stretched its massive boughs over the yard, Bannor’s heart jumped and he looked up with a sharp feeling of concern. The stick that he had been drawing patterns with fell from his fingers. Both names meant trouble. What had he done now? Rather, what had Ramm done that he would have to take the blame for?

Bannor rose on spindly legs, brushing the dust and stickweed from his knees. The sun was high in the cloud-dotted sky, casting stunted shadows from the wood-wards around the yard. It didn’t seem so long ago he heard the last echoes of the noon-time bells ringing from Drenin-town. He took a few hesitant steps toward the house, glancing around for Ramm. Nowhere to be found which was usually the case when names were yelled.

“Bannor, get in here!” Mother growled.

He sighed and rocked his head back, stifling a brief thought to simply run off into the trees and pretend he hadn’t heard.

He tripped across the yard. Bobbing fat-bodied poultry-stock scattered out of his path in flutters of white feathers.

Swallowing, he lifted the latch on the squeaky front door and poked his head in. “You want me?” he asked in a weak voice.

Arms folded, spoon in hand, Mother stood by the larder board dressed in faded blue muslin, springy black hair confined in a stained kerchief. Her long dusky face with its big gray eyes, beaky nose, and understated mouth was just starting to show the creases from many hard summers and the trials of raising three children. She was tapping her toe. That was always a bad sign.

She put fists on narrow hips. “I want you over here,” she snapped.

He let out a breath, slipping inside and taking care to latch the door again. He took his time about it, not eager to present himself for a scolding, especially one he probably didn’t earn.

Mother grabbed his sleeve, hastening his dawdle and pulled him over to the larder board. She pointed at a small white pile on the floor. “Bannor—what is that?”

He glanced up at his mother’s stern expression then back down to the tiny hill of pale mineral. His gaze went furtively to the shelf above the larder board. The spice box was not facing with the engraving out, the way mother always put it back.

Odin’s eye, Ramm, why do you do these things?

“Bannor?” she asked again.

He looked up at her. “Ummm, salt?”

“Salt,” she repeated. She pushed up onto the shelf step. She lifted the spice box, backed off the step, and lowered the wooden container down for him to see.

Trembling a little, he looked away from her eyes into the box. It was empty. He met her gaze again and winced.

“It’s empty,” she said. “Why?”

He gulped. “Somebody spilled it?” He glanced to the floor. And didn’t clean up very well, he added to himself. Dumb-dumb head, Ramm. There was only one reason Ramm would have been up on that counter. He hoped Mother didn’t notice. She was going to be mad.

She dropped the wooden container on the counter with a clunk. She looked up to the shelf.

He groaned inwardly.

She reached up to the back part of the shelf. Feeling around and then withdrawing her hand with a growl. She glared at him. “The special dark-sweet!”

“Ma…” he said in a tiny voice.

“Bannor, did you take my special cooking syrup? Your father paid a whole week’s wages for that!”

“I—”

“Did you? Yes or no?”

Ramm would get pounded. Mother would get it out of him. He drew a breath. He cast his gaze down. “I did it, Mother. It—It’s my—fault.”

She stared at him. For a moment, doubt flickered in her eyes. She pursed her lips. “Your father will be extremely disappointed.”

Bannor only studied the floor. It would be hard for Father to be more disappointed than he already was.

Her tone dropped. “I’m disappointed.” She paused. “Where’s the jug?”

He swallowed and shook his head.

Mother growled and stamped her foot. “Frigga help me.” She slapped her sides. “Bannor,” she said in a harsh voice. “Take the stool, go to your corner. You will stay there until your Father gets home.”

His face felt hot. He hated the feeling of disappointment he felt coming from Mother. He nodded, turned and trudged to do as she bid.

As he bent to pick up his stool, he saw Ravan peaking around the partition. His older sister frowned at him, dark eyes glinting and brow furrowed, her red-blonde hair wreathed around her face. She glanced toward Mother who stood at the larder board staring out the window into the pasture.

As he plodded across the commons past the hearth to the corner, Ravan walked with him, brown muslin skirt swirling around her bird-like legs. She leaned down. “Why, Nally?”

“Dad won’t believe me,” he whispered. “If mother gets it out of him, we both get beat.”

“Why protect him? He doesn’t protect you. He just gets you in trouble.”

Bannor shrugged. “He’s my brother.” He clonked the stool down in the corner, and positioned himself for a long a vigil. Tonight would be painful. He doubted Ramm would own up to his crime, he hadn’t yet. Father would never suspect him anyway.

He sighed and pushed his forehead into the corner. He hated this.

Ravan put her arms around him from behind and hugged him. “You’re a good brother,” she whispered. “Stupid Ramm. I should tell Mother.”

“No—don’t,” he murmured. “Dad believes in Ramm. I won’t ruin it for him.”

“Little brother, you’re crazy.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, rocking his shoulders forward. It would be a long unpleasant wait…

***

Bannor became aware again of the emptiness. What had that been? Could a bodiless tao dream? It wasn’t so much a dream, but a memory. Something he’d almost forgotten. Even as a child he’d been protecting others. Protecting Ramm from his foolish mischief and guarding his Father’s dreams. He had such huge expectations for his first born. In a way, those expectations had been part of what killed Ramm. He refused to see his eldest child’s weakness, his lack of focus, how unprepared he had been to go to war.

When he came back instead of Ramm, Father’s dreams had been smashed. He never believed Bannor would amount to anything. Half a childhood spent protecting Ramm only made the fall of Father’s “perfect son” that much worse.

Father would not, could not accept, that Ramm had died. Who else could Father blame for his firstborn’s death? Certainly not himself. Certainly not the Northlanders, or King Balhaad—no, the target had to be the one it had always been… the person who had always accepted the blame for Rammal’s shortcomings. Only this time it was too much. The grief was too much. Father’s crushing disappointment and those words… those terrible cutting words.

Why did you have to live instead of Ramm?

With sick dejection and a ravaged sense of betrayal he had left Drenin-town, left the only family he knew, to live away from the pain. People were horrible creatures that could be so selfish, blind, and cruel. He had to live though, had to eat and survive. The army taught him to fight, not to hunt. So he swept floors, guarded pubs, mucked corrals and did whatever work provided food and shelter. Later he scouted and did pathfinding for the Baron’s defenders. One day, Captain Storvald walked into an inn where he was doing chores and guard work and asked for him by name. The Captain offered him a job working for the Baron as a Ranger. He accepted. With no family, and nothing to lose, he threw himself into the training, putting his mind and body into the role of a border guardian.

Protect. Now that he thought of it. His whole life had been protecting others, risking his life to save others pain. In all the summers, he never really learned how to guard himself, and certainly not how to stop protecting…

***

Bannor lay in the stillness of the mountain cabin, the sand-filled water-sack mattress settling under the weight of his body. Through the window he heard the sigh of the breeze, the song of chirp-bugs, and the occasional whooing of broad-wings. He pulled the blankets tighter around himself. She was with him, bringing with her a breath-catching arousal and terrible temptation.

He wanted to touch her, feel that silky skin and kitten-soft hair. They had shared the same bed before, but this time it felt different. She acted different, seemed to be waiting. What if he was wrong?

He swallowed slow and hard as her hand touched the back of his neck, then slid around him to caress his bare chest with slender long-nailed fingers. Small firm breasts pressed against his back, legs and loins snuggling around the curve of his buttocks. The flesh that pressed against him felt cool and smooth, that touch fast growing warm and prickly.

“Bannor,” a silky female voice asked in a purr that made his trembling even worse. “Don’t you want to share with me?”

Those words made his heart jump, made him dare to believe that this delicate creature wanted to be with him, to love him. He cared for others, but nobody ever cared back. Now, she lay with him, beckoning… His heart pounded, his flesh going taut and hard.

She pushed her other arm around his neck, hugging his back, writhing against him with a surreal warmth that made his whole body ache with longing.

“Bannor?” she murmured, voice low and husky. Her breath seemed to burn his skin as her lips brushed between his shoulder blades leaving a hot wetness that made his whole body tingle.

He moaned, rocking his head back. “I—” His voice cracked. He reached up and pressed a tentative hand overtop of hers. Those fingers seemed so little—so fragile. To his eyes, her slim body seemed like a piece of art, perfect and untouchable. She was touching him now though. He felt as if he might catch fire at any moment. He shut his eyes, fighting the urge to drag her close, to taste her salty-sweet skin, and breathe the flowery scent of her. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” Sarai murmured. She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder, teeth nibbling at the side of his neck. She hummed and he heard the smile in her voice. “Bannor—” She nuzzled the back of his neck, damp loins shifting against him making that hot tingle grow even more fierce. “My sweet gentle man.” She sighed, pressing the side of her face close to him, breathing deeply, seeming to smell and taste everything about him. “You won’t hurt me.”

“But—” The words caught in his throat. He didn’t want anything to come between them. Just being with her, close to her, hearing her soft voice, seeing those bright violet eyes light up as she smiled was more than he ever imagined he could have. Gods, it would kill him if some clumsy moment ruined it all and shattered the dream. He was so tired of being alone.

She ran her hand around his shoulder and down the thickness of Bannor’s biceps, down the forearm until her fingers found and meshed with his. “You are strong,” she whispered. “I want to feel that strength.” Her hand tightened on his, almost to the point of pain. “I won’t break. I promise.”

He felt ready to explode. Protecting, guarding, providing—he knew how to do those things, but this…

“You want me, don’t you?” she said with languid patience, free hand trailing through his long hair.

With deliberate slowness he pulled their meshed hands to his lips and kissed each knuckle with thorough care. The smell and taste of her made him dizzy. “Yes,” he groaned. “I want you so—so much. I just don’t—” His voice trailed off.

“Ah.” It was more sound than word, but there seemed to be such joy in it. She was moving then, her lithe form slipping around his, creamy flesh touching, tantalizing, firm hands guiding, gentle pressure urging Bannor onto his back.

Straddling his stomach, she paused over him, violet eyes glowing in the darkness, the moonlight making her pale hair glisten and sparkle as the long strands tickled his chest. Her small mouth parted and she drew a breath. With a moan, she descended on him, wine sweet lips finding his with fervent hunger, hands knotting in his hair, body fitting to him.

He put his arms around her, pulling the tempest of her need and desire close…

***

Bannor couldn’t smile. He didn’t have a face. It gave him renewed joy to think of that first time. He had been so unsure. It was so fantastic that she would see something in him—something worthwhile. When she found a person of value inside his skin, trusted and respected him, how could he not learn to see it too?

He had been a shadow, a specter, an empty man that did good and took no joy in it. Sarai changed that, her faith and love changed him. She gave him something real to protect—not out of instinct or guilt—but a consuming passion. She became his world, his only family.

Then, as it always seemed to do, the universe intruded. Greedy Hecate thrust herself into their lives wanting more than she should have, wanting the cosmos, wanting the impossible. At the same time, Wren stepped on their shadow, at times seeming equal parts enemy and ally. He never would have thought that she would become like the big sister he had given up.

So much happened in such a short amount of time, at times he thought his head would explode trying to keep up with it all.

Now, here he was, not knowing whether this was a place or a state of being, or even a state of not being. The Baronian attack had reduced him to thought and memory without substance or incarnation of any kind.

One thing he felt certain of, he had given them a shot back for their trouble. Czar, Ziedra, Loric and the others constructed a magical barrier that would have strained an entire pantheon of gods to break. Simply to break through, the Baronian coven would have been exerting its maximum effort without holding anything in reserve, confident nothing would survive to attack back. Not even a fully realized first one could have resisted such incredible force. Indeed, he hadn’t. Even altering his form to near perfect conductivity had not shielded him. It did give him enough instants to use the echoes of Wren and Damay’s ability to loop the power back on itself and send a portion of that attack along the path it came. Even a small percentage of that intolerable strength would wreak havoc on an unshielded coven.

At least he could rest knowing that his last act had not been totally in vain. A significant number of that coven would have been crippled if not slain outright. Even with their massive numbers, the alien army could not shrug off a loss like that.

He hoped his counter strike pointed the way for Koass and the eternals. The fact that he channeled the energy through Xersis should have made sure the Advocate Eternal had a sense of the target. The Protectorate could then fall on them without fear of utilizing their full power.

Damn, he didn’t want it to end like this. This was worse than being dead. To exist for an eternity with nothing but his own finite number of summers to review and analyze, seeing every mistake and misstep, reliving every pain. His time with Sarai was so short. The good times, the pleasurable moments, they seemed so fractional compared to the rest.

The frustration boiled in him. What did it take to get fair treatment from this mucked up universe? He did everything he could, helped everyone, forgave and made peace whenever possible.

Frustration became anger and he raged at the emptiness. Damn it, Sarai, I don’t want to leave you—not now—not ever!

For the first time since being in this terrible aloneness he felt something, like a hot wind rush through him.

A voice echoed; all around it seemed. <Bannor??!!>

Return to Contents

Chapter Twenty-Four

It could only happen to me…
—Bannor Nalthane Starfist,
Prince Conjugal of Malan

The malaise and loss that had been washing over Bannor as he waited in the emptiness vanished as a single driving hope focused him. Something, someone, had said his name! The void had not changed, he had felt a sensation though, like a hot wind rushing over skin.

“Hello!” He tried to yell, but he had no voice to yell with. “Hello!” He broadcast the way he had learned to telepath. Could he send thoughts without a tao form? He didn’t understand this state at all. How could he be and not be at the same time!?

<Bannor, Carellion’s eyes, is that you?!> The voice seemed to echo all around him, making his non-body hum with the only sensation he had experienced. There was no tone, no inflection to tell whether the voice was male or female, but the expletive made it likely to be an elf. Could it be Sarai? Had he somehow reached her even out of this hopeless oblivion?

“Sarai?” He asked tentatively.

It felt as if a tornado whipped through him, it hurt yet at the same time it felt strangely comforting. <Lords! Lords! Lords! You—you—you’re alive!>

It must be Sarai.

He pushed a thought into the void. “Am I?”

That made the torrent of sensations stop. He could almost see her elated face sobering in sudden disappointment.

<I don’t—am I just imagining it?>

“Uh, I hope you aren’t, it’s lonely here… if you can call this emptiness a place even.”

<Emptiness?> Though there was no expression to go with it, he sensed her confusion. She and the others must have been convinced he was dead. This was not surprising because he was convinced he was dead. <Where are you?> she asked.

“Haven’t a clue. I have no body, no sensation, no nothing… your voice just appears like words in whatever I am now. It’s—really—strange. Where are you?”

<I’m in the infirmary near your—>

Her voice stopped.

“Near my what?”

<Your—corpse. You turned to metal and—> She paused. <Melted. All that survived was part of your—arm… and… Xersis.>

“I’m sorry. It was all I could think to do.”

There was a long pause.

“Sarai?” He waited. “Sarai?”

Oh lords, had he been the one dreaming? An overwhelming sense of panic made thoughts ping through him. If he had a heart it would be racing. Had he already gone insane? Had he already lost his grip on rationality? It was so frustrating. No fists to pound, no mouth to scream… just awful nothingness. He couldn’t go on like this. He had to do something.

Bannor’s next thought was aborted by a cool gust that seemed to blow through him. <Friend Bannor?>

He couldn’t tell one voice from another, but there was only one person who had ever addressed him that way. The angry trepidation he had been feeling melted. If he was going crazy, why would he think of that sagacious warrior now? “Corim?” he asked of the emptiness.

<Fascinating.>

Damn it, was he going crazy or not? “Corim, is that you?”

<Indeed, Friend Bannor, my apologies, I was simply taken aback. Your wife-to-be is quite distraught. I came to investigate her outburst.> Bannor felt him sigh. <She believes perhaps she’s gone insane.>

“I am about to go crazy myself,” he responded. “What’s going on?”

<That is what I am ascertaining. You see, even Mother Gaea determined that your tao had dissipated. Your core was destroyed, and your physical shell all but disintegrated. Xersis was all that remained of you and it had become intertwined with what little remained of your body. With the battle still ongoing, and in respect to your memory, the sword was not moved as it would take some effort to disentangle your—uhhh—remains—from it.>

Where was he going with this? “So?”

<It has been some hours, Friend. All hope of recovering you was abandoned. It was dangerous to leave the sword unattended so it was finally decided to put it somewhere safe. Sarai wanted some moments to be alone with your memory before removing the weapon. It appears that…> He paused. <It appears that you are now either in the sword, or have become it. I am not certain which.>

“What?! That’s crazy! I can’t be a sword—can I?”

<Friend, I have been witness to far stranger things.>

Could it be? It made a strange bizarre sense. A sword had no eyes, no organs, nothing to sense with. It was cold unfeeling metal. That last wish. He had wished his body to be the perfect conductor for the magic. At the last instant he had tried to unbind. The shaladen was as close to a perfect magic conductor as existed. Perhaps the garmtur in its bid to preserve him pushed him into the only location impervious to the Baronian magic.

The shaladen.

With a dawning sense, he realized it must be true. He’d been turned into a shaladen!

<Friend Bannor, are you still there?>

“Uhhh, yes.”

<If I may, with your forbearance, I’d like to test something.>

“Test away, not like I can do anything one way or another.”

<Would you be good enough to refrain from shocking me?>

“What? Of course I won’t shock you.”

He felt a pulse of heat, and an odd sense of pressure, then a feeling like he was being watched. Time passed, the sensations growing and fading.

“Corim?”

<A few moments more—there!>

A burst of energy rushed through him. It felt like he had a body again! Looking like an image painted on glass, the infirmary shimmered into view, taking the place of the empty white void. The chamber was wrecked and the ceiling bowed upward, the stone fused and melted by what had probably been his retributive strike. A crater dominated the center of the room within which was a puddle of metallic-appearing slag. A single arm thrust up out of the mess, the hand posed as though once gripping something.

The hilt of a sword.

He realized the body he was feeling wasn’t his own.

It was Corim’s.

“That’s all that was left of me?” he grumbled. “I hope I blasted that coven good.” He wanted to shake his head, but he still didn’t have a head to shake. The body that he was aware of wasn’t his own, and he couldn’t control it. “Damn, this feels weird. I—I’m a—a—sword.”

“So, it would appear,” Corim’s voice echoed. “And you can see?”

“Yes, I must be seeing through your eyes,” he responded.

“That makes sense,” Corim nodded. “I have had in my possession another intelligent weapon and it was much the same.”

It was strange, he felt the warrior nod. Another intelligent weapon?

“Well, we must go calm your wife-to-be. To lose you and get you back, it has been quite hard on her.”

He felt Corim turn and his view shifted as they turned to the corridor and headed East. Octavia, Mercedes, Wysteri, and the three combat medical mecha were all in the passage treating injuries. Many were Kriar and valkyries barely holding onto life, apparently even the last push had not been enough.

“Why is everyone in the corridor?”

“Well,” Corim said. “How can I put this… that last hit was—messy. Bits of you got everywhere. Nobody, including the mecha, wanted to be in there and be reminded…”

He tried to sigh and failed. “I understand. Did it work, did it save everyone?”

“It did.”

“Good.”

They rounded a corner into an adjacent chamber that had obviously been set up to replace the damaged infirmary. Pallets had been set up and people were being migrated from the corridor to these new quarters. Sarai knelt in the corner huddled close to Wren, Kalindinai, and Janai. Daena stood over the three with a concerned look on her face.

Sarai looked up as they entered. It made Bannor ache inside to see her face in so much pain. Her face glistened with newly shed tears, her cheeks red and puffy. The glow in her violet eyes had turned almost gray.

“Corim?” Sarai said. “Was I imagining it?”

Bannor felt the big warrior’s body tighten up, no doubt anticipating the positive and negative reaction this latest news would create. “Arminwen, your husband-to-be is an amazing creature.” Bannor felt movement, and he saw Xersis blade held out on both of Corim’s thick palms. “He is here, in this blade.”

Kalindinai who was cradling Sarai frowned. “Do not toy with her, Man. We have no tolerance for metaphor now.”

“I’m not a metaphor!” Bannor yelled. “I’m trapped in this damn sword!”

Kalindinai’s jaw dropped. The others gasped, obviously hearing his voice as well.

“Bannor?” Sarai sniffed, rubbing at her eyes, silvery hair falling around her face.

“Star, it’s me. I did it again. Please don’t cry. I’m sorry.”

She swallowed. He could see her daring to hope, but afraid—afraid it wouldn’t be true. He understood.

“Star, take the sword—take me. You’ll know it’s me, I’m sure.”

Sarai blinked. She started to rise but her mother held her back. Kalindinai’s normally impervious expression showed that she too had been upset enough over his death to cry. In a way, that surprised him.

“Matradomma, it really is me.”

The Queen let out a breath and released Sarai. Like a person afraid she might be bitten she reached out a tentative hand.

A warm rush went through him, a cascade of sensations that he really couldn’t catalogue. His view of Sarai was replaced by the image of Corim looking down at them with a concerned expression, brow furrowed and dark eyes intent.

He felt her pattern, and now could imagine it. He willed himself into it, pushing the way he used to urge the garmtur.

Sarai gasped and held up a hand that now glowed with a golden light, at the same time, the threads of the universe spread through their vision. He still possessed the power of his nola, or at least could bestow that ability on her.

Wren and Daena stiffened.

“Sarai?” Wren murmured. “I feel…”

“Whoa…” Daena’s voice trailed off. “It’s like you just became a savant.”

Bannor felt her rub her eye and felt an ache in her chest. Her heart was pounding. Her hand trembled as she held up the sword. “You—you’re—you’re really alive.”

“I guess. If you call this alive.”

“Friend, I call it a darn sight better than dead!” Corim remarked rubbing the back of his head.

“Why me?” he muttered.

“My One, hush!” Sarai cried. A sob wracked through her, making their vision blurry. “I thought—I thought…” She sniffed, wiped her eyes and shook the sword. “Never mind what I thought! You rock-skulled… why do you have to be so damn brave?!!!”

He felt the tempest of her anger and relief like storm waves lashing a beach. “Because you wouldn’t have me any other way, Star. I had to protect you and the others.”

“Damn you,” she growled.

“So, there’s lots of hurt people. Where’s everyone else?”

Sarai sighed. “Koass led a counter offensive. When you aimed that last attack, it pointed the way to wherever that master coven must be. He couldn’t let that opportunity be lost.”

“Well, at least it worked as I planned it would,” he responded. He still couldn’t sigh. It was nice to have feelings again. Even if they weren’t his own. In fact, to feel Sarai, feel the beat of her heart, the warmth of her skin, the tingle of her body as biophase surfed through muscle and flesh.

His wife-to-be swallowed. “Bannor, it really is you?”

“Star, can you think of anyone else who could get themselves this frelled up?”

Wren shook her head, gold hair wreathing in her face. “He’s got a point.”

“I can’t believe you managed to do it,” Daena breathed. “I can feel you now though—through Sarai anyway.”

Janai rose and dusted herself off, pushing back her dark hair. “Brother-to-be, you are as Corim said, amazing. I would hug you but I would probably cut myself.”

“Hug Sarai,” he answered. “For now, it’s the same thing.”

The elder sister leaned into Sarai with sincere love and relief, arms pulling tight. As the second princess pulled back there were tears in her amber eyes. “I—I am truly glad—we didn’t lose you.” She wiped at her face.

Daena came around and hugged Janai from behind.

Kalindinai pushed to her feet and put an arm around her daughter. The pressure felt good. The relief and happiness overwhelming grief making Sarai giddy.

“So, ummm, what now?”

“I’m assuming we wait,” Corim said. “Gaea and all the others are off pursuing the Baronians. We stayed behind because—” He glanced around with some discomfort. “Because some of us no longer felt like fighting. Others were left to keep an eye on things. As it is, driving away the Baronians really tore us up. So, we needed to leave defenders to protect the wounded in case the enemy decide to double back.” The man paused. He glanced up to the ceiling as if he could see those absent. “Koass was extremely upset when he heard you had been killed.” He blew out his cheeks. “I have never seen him get angry. I feel sorry for any Baronian or Daergon that steps on his shadow.” He shook his head. “Loric, Euriel, Damay, they were seeing red to be sure. Gaea—she was perhaps the most frightening of the lot—she and that blue-haired demon.”

“It’s a war,” he remarked. “Someone is going to…” He didn’t say the word because he felt Sarai’s hand tighten on Xersis’ hilt, the knuckles going white with pressure. “Why get so upset over me?”

Kalindinai snorted. “Why? Because there isn’t a soul in the citadel that doesn’t like you.” She narrowed glowing amber eyes. “And more than a few are fond of you—in some cases inappropriately so.”

“Ah,” He would have colored if it were possible. Instead, he just felt Sarai still boiling with unshed emotions. “Star, I’m truly sorry for putting you through that. I saw the attack and—”

“Stop it,” Sarai growled. “I don’t want to relive that horrible moment again. You did what you always do—take responsibility and protect others. Wren is alive and so is her father. You were…” He felt her lip tremble. “So brave…” Their vision got blurry and he felt her face get hot. “Oh damn it.” She swiped at her face.

He couldn’t hug her, but he imagined his arms wrapped around her, folding the essence of his nola around her body.

Sarai rocked her head back. “Uhmm, I can feel you.” She held up the sword. “Strange, didn’t you have the shaladen as a pair of axes?”

“Actually it was an armband when, uhhh, when it happened. It probably reverted to its normal shape.”

“Do you think it would hurt you if I changed you to something else? I don’t have a sheath for you.”

If he could have frowned, he would have. “Errr, I don’t know. I guess try it and if it hurts I’ll yell.”

Sarai shook her head. “This is so odd.”

He felt her press her will into him. He felt his pattern mesh with hers and felt an elating thrill as Eternity’s energies poured through him in a rush. The room flickered, turning gray, then yellow, blinking out for an instant before snapping back into view.

“Wooo!” he let out.

Sarai was abruptly concerned. “Are you all right?”

He couldn’t swallow, but the reflex remained. “Uhhh, yeah. That was pretty heady.”

“Well, you’re on my other arm now.”

“Watch out for the elf savant with two shaladens,” Wren said.

“Indeed,” Corim said. “A foe to be reckoned with.”

“So, not that being a shaladen isn’t an interesting experience, do you think I’ll ever get back into a body again?”

Kalindinai shook her head. “Bannor, I’ve come to accept that with you—anything is possible.”

Return to Contents

Chapter Twenty-Five

Bannor would change the laws of life and
death for me. I wish he wouldn’t do it so
damn often…
—Sarai T’Evagduran,
3rd Princess of Malan

To say his latest incarnation was a new experience, redefined the limits of understatements. He, Bannor, was now a sword—specifically a shape changing shaladen. At this point, how or why it happened was irrelevant—it was true and not his imagination. The one good thing in all of the strangeness was that he could now be with Sarai and the crushing loneliness didn’t crowd in on him.

He was still growing accustomed to his new state of being, feeling the sensations of a body not his own. Being in Corim, however briefly, was different but not strange. Sarai, being female, an elf, a Shael Dal, and pregnant… that was a lot of newness to acclimate to.

The most fascinating thing about this new state was his unborn daughter Vhina. He felt her growing, sensed her becoming ever more alive and aware. Though his only real vision was through Sarai’s eyes, he’d discovered he could look inward, into the energy and threads of the marvelous body that he now shared with his wife-to-be. When he promised to be with her, it never occurred to him that they would be quite this close.

“Bannor,” Sarai murmured, voice sounding sleepy. “What are you doing? It feels weird.”

He tried to shrug but, of course, couldn’t. “Just watching Vhina. She’s already beautiful like her mother.”

He felt her smile. At the same time he couldn’t help but catch the barest shiver of unease. What if we get stuck like this? “You must be doing something else. It’s prickly.” Sarai opened her eyes. They were in the room next to the temporary infirmary. They had made space in a little-used storage room. Old beds, discarded linens, worn carpets and tapestries had been shifted against one wall to make space. The mecha engineers had set up a few pallets so they could relax a little.

“If I’m doing something,” he answered. “It’s not intentional. I don’t get tired or sleepy and it’s boring just sitting in the dark doing nothing. I didn’t think you wanted me peeking at your dreams.”

“No,” she confirmed. “You can see our baby?”

“Yes, I was watching her grow. It’s quite fascinating.”

He felt her frown. She touched her abdomen. “You can see inside me?”

“Yes,” he answered. “In fact, it’s the only thing I can see when your eyes are closed; besides your thoughts and dreams of course.”

“Of course,” she grumbled. “How do we get in these messes?”

“Practice,” he answered. He would have said it with a wry smile had he a face to express with.

Sarai seemed to get it just the same. “Yes, I suppose there’s that…” She let her eyes close again. The battles and subsequent emotional turmoil had obviously been very draining for her even with the marvelous recuperative powers that Mercedes and Wysteri had instilled in her.

He floated in the darkness, listening to the sound of her breathing, feeling the beat of her heart. He loved her so much it hurt. He had come so close to leaving her. Confronting his death had been devastating for her—more than he expected. She always projected that steely self-sufficiency that only four hundred summers of life could grant. He imagined himself lying next to her comfortable warmth, relishing the silky feel of her smooth skin brushing against his.

He had thought himself unable to sleep, but immersing himself in the pleasant ebb and surge of her slumber he managed to drift into a kind of unconsciousness.

Bannor roused an indeterminate time later as he felt something tingling at the edges of his nola sense—the presence of another savant. Wren and Daena were on watch and moving around, but it didn’t feel like either of them. Had the others come back from their attack on the Baronians? Corim had said he would inform Koass and the others of his survival as soon as he could get through.

His control over the nola was greatly diminished in this state. Whoever this was, they must be an elder, the pattern was too sophisticated. He knew Damay well so it couldn’t be her. It didn’t feel right to be Vanidaar or Wren’s brother Azir. He cast around and found Wren and a few instants later located Daena. They were together in the opposite direction of this new entity.

The feeling became an icy chill. Damn.

“Sarai, get up.”

“Hmmm?” she murmured, still drowsy.

“Sarai, get up, you may be in danger.”

The word ‘danger’ brought her fully awake and she rolled off the pallet and onto her feet in a smooth shift of her weight. The Kriar-designed body going from idle to full readiness in a blink of an eye. The sleepiness and muddy awareness usually associated with deep repose flicked away with a shake of her head.

<What is it?> she thought in silence.

“I think it’s another savant,” he said for her ears only.

<What?>

“Not one of ours, someone new. They’re nearby where they shouldn’t be. I was concerned, we know Mazerak probably wasn’t the only unfriendly savant. The timing is bad.”

<I follow.>

He pushed his awareness into her, opening up the sigil of the Garmtur and mingling it with the sigils of her shaladen Garadhyr and Koass’ shaladen Xersis. White hot potential crackled along the surface of her skin, making her heart rush.

“Whoooa,” she murmured aloud. She clenched her fists and rocked her head back, sucking air through her teeth. <Mmmf. Damn, I love that feeling. What did you do?>

“Synchronized both of the shaladens with you.”

She bounced on her toes and touched Garadhyr which was clamped on her left wrist. In a heartbeat, the shaladen had transformed into wicked looking two-edged battle blade with runes flaring down its runnel. She waved the weapon which left a trail of sparkles in the air. In quick succession the weapon shimmered into the form of great shadowspar bow, then a three-bladed throwing dagger, and then a griffon-crested war-shield strapped to her arm.

She gestured and Xersis shimmered into a curved elven rapier, the edges sparking and winking in the dim light of the storage room.

Sarai shook her head, Bannor experienced her awe, felt her heart speeding with excitement. Gaea had blunted Sarai’s obsession for magical power, but not her love of it. <So smooth, my One—so fast. Even more a part of me than they were.>

“Yes. Call the others make sure they know we have a guest. This person is powerful and we don’t know their intentions yet.”

<Done.>

Bannor felt their connections to Wren and Daena grow hot and agitated as Sarai’s warning made them tense. Kalindinai, Janai and Corim were immediately in Sarai’s mind, senses straining for hints of what Bannor had detected.

<Where is this guy?> Bannor heard Wren ask in Sarai’s mind.

He couldn’t tell direction like when he had flesh. “Sarai, face east.” She turned. The emanation was ahead and to her left. “East northeast. I can’t tell how far, but it’s strong.”

<Bannor seems to think it’s somewhere north of the main audience hall, he keeps repeating how strong it is, so we best be careful. He’s not prone to exaggeration.>

<No, he’s not,> Wren confirmed. <Fall back to the infirmary and wait for us.>

He felt Sarai stiffen, she didn’t like following instructions even if they were reasonable ones.

Kalindinai seemed to sense the need to reinforce Wren’s statement. <Daughter, need I remind you you’re pregnant? Let us confront this intruder enforce.>

Bannor felt Sarai roll her eyes. With the power of two shaladens synchronized in her body, no doubt, she felt able to take on a whole pantheon. He felt her irritation at being treated as though made of parchment.

Sword and shield readied she stepped into the passage. The temporary infirmary the next door down had already emptied of people. The mecha had obviously already repaired the more defensible location. Were they asleep that long? It didn’t feel like it.

He sensed a few valkyries around the corner only a short distance away.

Sarai glanced up the passage to the north, where he suspected their new enemy lurked. As she looked back south to head to the infirmary Sarai’s heart leaped as a figure that hadn’t been present instants ago was now within touching range.

Her amazing speed prevented whatever the person intended because the grabbing hand missed.

The tall slender male with a shock of blue-black hair frowned. He wore armor similar to that of the Baronians and Daergons but was obviously neither. His thin face and pronounced cheek bones gave him an almost skeletal appearance. The grayish cast to his skin only reinforced the image of bone. Hand still out, long fingers spread, he sighed and stared at her with cold dark eyes. He raised his chin.

Sarai took a fighting stance, rapier poised to slash or impale.

A light flared from his eyes, and shafts of energy stabbed out toward her. She interposed the shaladen shield, the metal shrieked and crackled as nola power dissipated against it.

The man’s lip curled. He spoke in a thin reedy voice obviously more to himself than Sarai. “Oh, now that is a bother.”

Bannor didn’t have a body to feel with, but panic rushed through him just the same. At the moment of the intruder used his power, he knew the identity of this elder savant. He had temporarily exchanged that very same nola power for Wren’s back in Hel; a Ta’Arthak!

“Star, be careful this guy is—”

Even before he could completely think his warning the intruder gestured and the floor beneath Sarai’s feet made a slurping sound.

As fast as it happened, she pushed off from the wall, ricocheted off the opposite side of the corridor and somersaulted to a landing a half dozen paces further away.

<He’s a Ta’Arthak, right?> Sarai thought to him.

“Yes.”

<I felt him try to transform me, but the shield blocked it.> Aloud she said, “What do you want?”

“For you to stand still!” He gestured and tentacles of stone swept from the walls, floor, and ceiling at her.

Powered by shaladen strength and harmonized with her body, Xersis slashed through the stone as if it were wax. A dozen cuts rendered the rocky protrusions into gravel. She dodged back a step and with a sweep of her shield and a thrust of elemental power sent the whole writhing mass of granite hurtling at her opponent.

The thin man flicked a hand at the oncoming barrage and it disintegrated into sand that poured into the corridor at his feet.

<Whoa, I see what you mean,> Sarai breathed to Bannor. <He’s pretty powerful.>

“His control is based on sound,” Bannor informed her. “Keep aware, I think he’s just a distraction.”

“It—” She leaped to one side, deflected off the wall and rolled backward as beam of light lanced through the space she vacated. “—had—” She interposed the shield as another bright blast deflected from it, and hacked into empty space causing a backpedaling Baronian to appear, staggering back with his armor slashed. “—occurred to me!”

With a battle yell, she slashed the enemy’s head from his shoulders in sticky splash of blood and turned to deflect another shot.

“These senses of yours—” she rasped between rapid lunges and strokes of her sword. “They—” She ducked a sword swing and leaped over a blast of magic as more opponents seemed to materialize from no-where. “They—come—in handy!”

“Damn it, Star, summon Corim and the others!”

“Blight, there’s no time!” She continued to block, weave and slash. Raking opponents bloody with every swing. These weren’t Baronian elites, and she was simply too strong and fast to rush. “Why—Why the frell didn’t you sense these people?”

“I’m a bloody sword, remember! That stealth was hard enough to see through when I was an ascendant!”

Sarai growled and kept fighting as more and more opponents kept appearing, trying to weigh her down by sheer numbers.

Where were the others? They knew Sarai was in danger. The valkyries had been barely ten steps away. They should have come at the sound. Sarai was making enough noise to wake the dead.

As Sarai spun and weaved through the crowd of opponents, and he felt the sting and burn of near hits but his Star was burning like her namesake, a flame that destroyed anything that got close. As they turned, he caught a glimpse of the Ta’Arthak. He hadn’t moved.

“Where the frell are they all coming from?!” she gasped, stumbling and almost slipping on the corpse strewn floor.

“They must have a gate someplace.” He caught another glimpse of the savant. He stood with his arms folded showing no signs of movement, nor did he seem to even be watching the hall behind him.

Damn, he was the cork and they were in the bottle. “Star, I think he’s blocked the hall so the others can’t get to us. We need to get clear!”

She burst through a line of Baronians, dove, rolled and came up charging, she turned the corner into the adjacent hall and came sliding to a stop. A solid metal barrier blocked the passage.

“What the frell?” She whirled to look the other way down the hall. That passage also ended in a metal barrier after a few steps. Sarai dodged through the press as the Baronian soldiers tried to box her in. “Oh dren!” With a snarl, she lashed around with the sword and her elemental power sending waves of stone crashing outward with a rumble, knocking their attackers flying.

Bannor felt her growing panic, but he couldn’t do any more. She was utilizing every bit of shaladen power she could without burning up.

With an instant’s respite, Sarai turned back to that wall of metal. She transformed the shield on her arm into a sword, then brought both weapons together, merging them into a single large battle blade with a crackling of Eternity’s energies. Bannor felt a surge of additional strength rush through her. She used the single massive weapon to clear away the opponents who rushed her, sundering bodies and deflecting magic.

She focused her will on the blade, summoning the shaladen’s power into a single surge. With a yell, she leaped forward and smote the blockage with all her strength.

The power of eternity exploded from the impact, tearing a smoking yard-wide hole in the material. That wall had been nearly a pace thick, even the power of a full shaladen had almost not been enough. Sarai turned away from the gap to protect her back, slashing into the ranks of the ever-persistent Baronians. Despite their fearsome losses, those creatures would not quit, even when they were tripping over the corpses of their own to get to her.

A few strikes did the job. When she looked back at the wall, the gap was gone.

“Damn!” Sarai snarled. “That Ta’Arthak has hacked me off now.”

She turned back to the corridor, separating the merged shaladen back into the two weapons and transforming them into a pair of matched saw-toothed jacdaw blades that flamed and sparked. She stared at her opponents, a dozen of which were still standing, facing her over a pile of corpses two high.

“Bannor, you said the Ta’Arthak power used sound, right?”

“Yes, so?”

“My eternal Areth; her power is sound. Garadhyr isn’t a full shaladen, but it should be able to use all of the master blade’s powers. I may be able to see his true name as well. Can you do anything with that?”

“I could tie him in knots with it—if I was in a body.”

“Come into my body then!”

“I can’t. I’m not a tao form anymore. I’m the shaladen.”

Sarai growled and charged into the warriors confronting her. “It’s—always—something!” She cleared a bloody path, flicked the blood from her swords, and focused on the enemy savant. The dark-haired man stood in the hallway with his arms folded, not doing anything. In fact, his eyes were closed. “One thing is certain. He won’t be reforming those walls if I cut his head off!”

“Star, I don’t…”

“You have a better idea? I’m getting tired…”

The fact was he didn’t. They were trapped with a practically limitless number of Baronian regulars available to drown them in a torrent of bodies. It was Sarai’s battle experience, the pure raw power of two shaladens, and her amazing speed that kept them alive so far. Of course, it seemed to him that the Baronians were not coming at them with killing force, they seemed to be trying to subdue… Why were they trying to capture them now? As hostages? As far as the Daergons and Baronians knew, he was dead. To whom would they ransom Sarai? Who did they think she was valuable to that mattered to them?

Sarai didn’t confer with him further, but turned and blazed straight at the Ta’Arthak. If Bannor had teeth he would have gritted them. If he were the savant standing there, surely that would be the biggest mistake to make.

The dark savant raised his head and opened his eyes as Sarai arrowed forward. The hall came alive around them, the stone becoming a quagmire of grasping fingers of bubbling stone.

She dove around and through the miasma, the two shaladens exploding through anything that got close. Several times the enemy savant’s power lanced straight at her, only to be deflected by the incredible magicks of Garadhyr and Xersis. Without the ability to see the threads of Ta’Arthak’s savant talent lashing out, her rush would have been stopped half way to him.

It was no surprise to Bannor when the elder savant used multiple instances of his power stabbing out at once. Despite her incredible speed, she couldn’t block six attacks all coming at the speed of thought. She did get three which resulted in both legs and an arm suddenly becoming encased in blocks of metal.

Sarai cried out in pain and frustration, as she slammed to the floor barely half a step from the savant, limbs pinned by tons of weight.

“Sarai, use the shaladen,” he cried in her mind. “Etherlock yourself so he can’t teleport you away!”

She didn’t acknowledge with words. She slammed the point of Xersis into the floor, and focused all her will on it. A crimson glow flooded around her body as the savant reached down to touch her shoulder.

The thin man yanked is hand back as the air rasped and crackled where he touched. He shook his hand with a grimace. “Must you be so egregiously troublesome?”

Sarai yanked up her weighed down left arm, actually managing to lift it off the floor. The savant stepped back as the massive weight crashed down where it would have smashed his feet. “You haven’t seen trouble yet,” she snarled.

“You blood-soaked wretch,” he growled. “I didn’t want to damage you, but it appears I must render you—”

His words were interrupted by a powerful blast that sent molten metal and shattered stone spraying down the corridor ahead of them. The Ta’Arthak staggered, gripping his head.

“Knock, knock!” a powerful echoing female voice said.

The savant snatched around in time to see Wren’s statuesque form stride into the hall, dressed in her Kriar armor, gold hair playing around her body like something alive. There was something different about her though—Bannor realized then, her skin was green!

The Ta’Arthak didn’t hesitate but sent a barrage of attacks at her. The strands of nola force hit her skin and sloughed away without effect.

She put hands on hips. “I don’t think so, Son Wyyr,” Wren said in that powerful voice that belonged to Gaea. “You may not have Sarai or her progeny. I will give you one opportunity to leave without further rebuke.”

Wyyr glanced back at Sarai, his lip now trembling. His attention went to the score or more Baronian regulars now frozen in the hall. No doubt, they knew the power they were facing in an ascendant. More than ample demonstration had been given in the battles previous.

Eyes wide he looked back to Wren. “H-how do you know my name?” Wyyr asked. “My mind is shielded. My shape is guarded, and I have ward magicks up.”

Wren tilted her head, and blinked with glowing blue eyes. She smiled. “I know it because your power comes from me. Didn’t those nasty Daergons tell you about my presence or how they are working to destroy the source of all savant power and magic?”

The elder savant swallowed and licked his lips. “They neglected to mention that.”

Wren leaned forward. “Sarai are you injured?”

Sarai rocked her head back, Bannor felt the heat of embarrassment burning in her cheeks. She hated being rescued and appearing helpless. It made her crazy. “No, just kill him!”

“Kill?” Gaea/Wren sighed and strolled forward, stopping a few steps from the enemy savant. “Daughter, I understand your frustration, but let us not get ahead of ourselves.” She tilted her head and brushed back her long hair. “Release her now. Failure to comply will result in the permanent removal of your nola powers.”

Wyyr’s hands clenched and unclenched. No doubt he was weighing his options, he had hit her straight on with his power multiple times and she hadn’t twitched.

Wren frowned at the hesitation. “Nevermind then.” Her blue eyes flared white, and a green radiance surrounded her limbs. She gestured and the blocks of metal clamped around Sarai’s limbs became puffs of vapor wafting into the air. “It’s probably better that you not have that power to create mischief with.”

Sarai rose to stand, rolling the shoulder of the arm that had been pinned. She raised her blades. The edges winked and flashed in the poor corridor light.

Wyyr’s eyes bulged.

“Yes,” Gaea answered, the unspoken question. “I have the powers of all savants.” She clicked her tongue. “And I am quite proficient with them.” She made a curling gesture with her finger and the dark Kriar armor encasing his body sloughed off him like mud.

“Mother, don’t play with him,” Sarai growled. “He’s a traitor.”

Hands clutching where his armor used to be, Wyyr glanced between them. His limbs shook. Bannor realized he was exerting a lot of power. To do what? After a moment’s examination, he realized the elder was trying to do the only smart thing he could. Run away! Apparently, Gaea no longer wished to let him flee.

“Daughter, I am not playing. It’s difficult to extract information from a corpse.”

“He won’t tell us anything. He’s just another pawn.”

Wren stepped forward and slapped Wyyr with a blow that half spun the enemy savant around. The man moaned and staggered, a hand pressed to his bloody mouth.

“Stop trying to teleport when I’m having a discussion—it’s rude.” She glanced down the hall toward the Baronians, who had started to back up. “You creatures, begone!” She swung an arm and all of them vanished in a flare of sparks including the corpses.

Wyyr, glanced back, his already pale face draining of what little color remained. He stared at Wren and made a whimpering sound.

“Unfortunately, I believe what my daughter-to-be says is largely true. I waited to see if your Kriar allies would attempt to rescue you. It appears that they will not. What little value you might have had becomes moot.” She sighed. “I don’t like maiming one of my children, but sometimes you have to cut out the diseased flesh to keep it from infecting the rest.” She raised a glowing hand.

Wyyr reeled away from Wren only to yelp as his back came up against Sarai’s sword tips. “Please,” he blubbered. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know!”

Wren sniffed. “Do you know anything of value?”

He forced down a convulsive gulp. “I—I—hope—so.”

“All right,” Wren rumbled. “What were you offered to do this task?”

“I bet they offered to give him an ascendant body,” Sarai said with a sniff. “Even though they have no idea what it means.”

Wyyr focused wary eyes on her.

“Mother?” Came Corim’s deep voice. “Wren?”

Wren looked toward the sound. “Come. I have him under control now.”

Corim, Daena, Sarai’s mother and sister came into the corridor followed by a half dozen valkyries that took up guard positions, weapons poised. They all wore concerned expressions, especially Kalindinai who rushed up to stand by Wren’s shoulder. She did not however get any closer to the savant.

The Queen brushed back her dark hair and fixed amber eyes on Sarai. “Carellion! Mimi, you’re covered in blood! Are you all right?”

“I’ll live,” Sarai answered. She poked Wyyr with Xersis. “Did the Daergons approach any other savants?”

Wyyr frowned but didn’t answer.

Wren put a finger in his tunic and pulled him close. Glowing blue eyes narrowed. “Did I in some way make myself unclear?” Sparks whirled around her hand casting the savant’s body in a dark radiance. The thin man screamed and clutched at her wrist as her fingers sunk into his body in a bloody froth. “I made you, Child. I can make another just like you.”

The savant of matter howled and writhed. His hands lashed against Wren’s cheek and chest, but she was in the form of an ascendant and immune to nola powers, and his frail human body didn’t have the strength it took to harm immortal flesh. “No! No! Arrrgh!” He continued to beat and thrash at her gripping hand ineffectually, his voice growing weaker. The women all watched with implacable expressions on their faces, the man’s contortions reflected in their eyes. None of them would be interceding on his behalf. “I’ll do—do anything you want!”

Wren let go. The bloody holes in his chest vanished in an instant.

Wyyr relaxed with a gasp, hugging himself and rocking his head back. After a moment, he touched his chest realizing his wounds had been healed.

The blonde savant wore a dark expression that would have had the bravest warrior backpedaling. “You will comply with every request, and comply with every anticipated need of every request. Failure to do so will have very unpleasant consequences. I have bound your nola, any future attempts to use it without my express permission will be spectacularly uncomfortable.” She turned to Kalindinai. “I trust that is good enough?”

“Yes, it is, thank you,” the Queen answered with bow. “Are you sure we even need him?”

Wren frowned at him. Wyyr swallowed. “I leave it to your discretion. I will not slay one of my own—even in anger.”

“Mother,” Sarai asked. “Will you be able to help Bannor?”

“I won’t know for certain until I am there in body,” she said with a tilt of her head. “I believe we will be done here soon. Do you believe him to be in immediate danger?”

Sarai held up the sword Xersis. “Are you, Bannor?”

He tried to snort but without a nose or lungs the gesture was lost. “You’re asking me? I can’t feel anything. I only feel what you feel. That and terrified for you.”

Wren tilted her head, looking down at Xersis where Bannor knew his essence was somehow bound. “Fascinating. Bannor I was overjoyed to hear you survived. From what I can tell, this condition is stable. You can feel safe, the others are here now. I am glad Wren had the forethought to call me.”

“How long before you’re back, Mother?” Kalindinai asked.

“A few bells at least. We want to clear as many of them out as possible. It will be safer for everyone if we do.”

“I understand,” he said through the sword. “A few more bells don’t matter.”

Wren smiled. “I will be back soon to give you my full attention.” She turned to Wyyr. “I don’t need to be there in the flesh to deal with you. So, I recommend you behave.” Wren tilted her head back and a green glow flared around her limbs. The green color drained out of her skin and she let out a breath. She sighed and seemed to master herself again. When she spoke it was no longer with the all-mother’s penetrating boom. “Whew! What a rush!” She blinked glowing eyes and looked at Wyyr. She put a hand to the ishtite sword on her side. “I’m not nearly as nice as Mother, so mind yourself or I’ll gut you like a fish.” She looked back to Daena. “Dane turn him to paste if tries to get away.”

The auburn-haired savant nodded and raised a hand and kept it oriented on Wyyr.

“I understood the first time,” Wyyr said with a grimace.

Corim rubbed the back of his head, riffling his long dark hair. “I recommend that he be taken for questioning by the Protectorate. The eternals have the proper facilities to keep someone like him detained.”

Kalindinai put hands on hips. “And how exactly are you going to get him there?”

The burly warrior’s brow furrowed. “That is something of an issue with everyone in the field. I guess we’ll detain him ourselves until we have adequate transport available.” He stepped toward Wyyr, who edged back. Stepping into the path of the savant’s retreat, Sarai raised both Garadhyr and Xersis. Daena stepped up on Sarai’s left, creating a formidable wall between the savant and escape.

Corim frowned at Wyyr. “Sir, I sense the magic in you. While lady Gaea disrupted your savant powers, I am aware your magic abilities have not been hampered. I am prepared if you attempt to fast-cast—you will lose limbs.”

“Where the frell did all of you come from?” Wyyr grumbled. “Bloody Shael Dal everywhere and…” He looked up at Wren and then to Daena. “Whatever they are.”

Wren grinned and pulled out the blade enchanted by Ziedra. The powerful weapon hummed and shimmered, heat and magic contrails curling off the edges. She raised the tip and pointed it at Wyyr’s nose. “Give me a reason to chop off your head. Please?”

Wyyr leaned back but kept still as Corim raised his shaladen to the enemy savant’s throat and transformed it into neckband with a handle on the back. He stepped behind the man and took hold. “Matradomma, this should keep his magic restrained until there is a spell shackle sufficient to block his casting abilities.”

“I will see if we have something strong enough,” Kalindinai said. “Thank you, Corim.”

The big man nodded to her and pushed Wyyr ahead of him toward the valkyries, two of which took his arms.

With Wyyr safely away, Kalindinai came and hugged her daughter. Sarai transformed her shaladens into arm-bands and clutched her mother tight. She rested her head on her mother’s shoulder and sighed.

“I know I don’t say it often enough,” Sarai murmured. “I love you.”

The Queen rubbed her back. “Damn, we must get you cleaned up, you are a mess.”

Janai came and gave her sister a hug. “Come here, Brat.”

Sarai put an arm around her older sister. As she squeezed Janai tight Bannor felt the tremble in Sarai’s arms. She pressed her cheek to Janai’s then pushed away to focus on Wren.

The blonde ascendant tilted her head and made the barest of smiles. With a sigh, she stepped forward and pressed herself against the Kel’varan’s feverishly warm body.

“Thanks,” she whispered. “For getting us out of that.”

Wren closed her arms around Sarai. “We’re sisters. It’s what we do.”

Bannor felt the heat in Sarai’s face and the hot burning streaks and realized she was crying.

Wren straightened up. She swung around and put and arm around both Sarai and the Queen. “Come on, let’s not tempt fate, let’s get back to the infirmary.”

Two of the valkyries that remained to escort them, fell in step as the group walked together back around the corner, stepping over the blasted metal blockage that Wren had destroyed to get to Wyyr.

Daena who was walking behind Sarai spoke up. “Matradomma, why do you suppose they were targeting Sarai?”

The Queen shook her head. “Perhaps, it is as Gaea surmised, they are interested in the baby. We don’t know what information they have. I suppose the baby would be leverage on Gaea.”

Wren rocked her head toward Sarai. “Sar, we know you’re a target now. Please don’t make us sit on you.”

She sighed. “I’ll stay close.”

“Good.”

They entered the infirmary that still had more than a dozen people resting on the pallets, with a score more reclining against the walls. Five valkyries, three Kriar soldiers, two of the allied Baronian women, and one person he recognized—Arabella. When had she been injured? The red-haired bard lay huddled on the pallet, whether in real or psychological pain he couldn’t tell. Her injuries didn’t look that serious.

A group of Loric’s youngest children sat along the wall, chatting quietly among themselves. Given their age they were remarkably disciplined.

A group of five, three girls and two boys ranging from around eight to twelve summers followed Octavia, Mercedes, and Wysteri as they moved around the room giving nurture to the injured. It was clear the Kriar healers doted on the attention and reverence given to them by the children and they patiently explained what they were doing and why. For the most part, the valkyries and Kriar seemed to be soothed by the presence of the young-ones, especially their attempts to help treat injuries and be encouraging.

Bannor remembered Kylie and how she had regarded young Daena. She was an immortal warrior now, but had once been a mother of four. It was pleasing to think he might have a young daughter running around underfoot some day. If he ever had feet again.

Sarai stopped in the doorway watching the children much as he had. No doubt her thoughts turned as his did to their daughter Vhina and what it would be like.

“Where did Wyyr and Corim go?” Daena wondered. “Octavia? Did Corim come in ahead of us?”

The fire-haired mecha looked up from something she was manipulating on one of the diagnostic tables. Octavia pointed to the treatment room. “Corim is putting the prisoner in stasis. I agreed it was the safest way to restrain him.”

Daena let out a breath.

Wren chuckled. “Getting jumpy in your old age there, Dane.”

The auburn-haired ascendant snorted. “We’re both ascendants and we couldn’t get through those damn walls he made.”

Wren shrugged. “Elders are dangerous. Even in her mortal body, I think Damay would give both of us a hard time.” She turned her head and walked over to Arabella. She leaned down and put a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “What’s the matter, Red?”

The bard moved as though she were made of wax or as if she thought she might break. She looked up, her pale face had a yellowish tint to the skin. “Feel sick,” she moaned. “Gods, I think—I think I puked up last week’s lunch.”

Wren frowned. “Didn’t they treat you?”

The bard groaned again. “None of them can—can find anything wrong.”

Sarai stepped over with Wren. “Is it just your stomach?”

Arabella rocked her head back. “Feel weak—I almost didn’t get back. Corim carried me in.”

Kalindinai and Janai stood on the other side of the woman with concerned expressions. A few moments later Corim, and his two valkyrie escorts appeared at the doorway to the inner treatment area.

“Wyyr is contained,” he reported. “I put him in Bannor’s stasis cell since he wasn’t using it.”

For some reason, he found that disquieting; that and another thing. “Did you make sure he didn’t astral out of his body, before you froze him?”

Corim stiffened. “Pardon?”

Wren rocked her head back. “Spit! Sar, quick bring Bannor.”

They rushed into the treatment room along the row of cylinders that contained the mortal bodies of the other savants.

Wren stopped at the cylinder that contained Wyyr’s body.

Sarai puffed to a stop with her mother, Janai, and Daena trailing after. She put a hand on the crystal and metal container.

He focused his nola senses. Instead of looking for Wyyr directly, he followed his own nola thread back to eternity and the mingled sigils of all savants. He found Wyyr’s link and let his senses follow that thread to it’s terminus.

He knew one thing for certain. It wasn’t this room.

“He’s gone. I can feel where he is, and it’s not here. Without my body I can’t really tell you where that is.”

“Frell, that’s trouble,” Wren grumbled.

“I don’t understand the concern,” Corim said standing in the doorway with a furrowed brow. “He’s a bodiless spirit. Certainly he poses no threat.”

“He’s a bodiless tao,” Wren told him scrubbing her forehead. “If you’d seen half the dren sword boy there can do with just a tao body, you’d be worried too.”

“Sword boy?” Bannor bristled. He doubted the indignant tone came across. “She’s right. He’s not really dangerous without a savant or immort body that’s synchronized to him. However, if he does not care about damage to the host, he can forcibly take over a body and still use some of his powers until it burns out.”

“We can catch him in an iron cage though can’t we,” Sarai asked. “Like Mazerak did to you, Wren?”

“Sure, if he’s not already in a body,” Wren answered. “If he’s not… he’s going to be damn hard to catch.”

Daena let out a breath, folded her arms and shook her head. “It’s always something…”

Return to Contents

Chapter Twenty-Six

I saw that hall splattered with the gore
of what had to be more than fifty dead
Baronians. Princess Sarai was covered in
blood, and next to none of it was hers. I am
never getting her mad at me again. I don’t
care if I am an ascendant—that woman
would find a way to get even…
—Kumiko Dinai “Daena” Sheento,
Ward Prodigal of Malan

Sarai stood staring the cylinder that contained the enemy savant Wyyr’s body. Bannor felt the tension in his wife to be, the efforts of the battle were beginning to catch up to her. The green glow in the room blurred in her vision, she wiped at the perspiration on her brow, sighed and shook her head. Around her, the Queen, Janai, Daena, and Wren all wore expressions of concern and dismay. An elder savant running around loose—no doubt an angry one—one that could take over people and cause destruction. With everything that had happened they certainly didn’t need this additional headache.

“We’ve got to find a way to track him,” Sarai said. “I—” She grunted and staggered, catching herself against the cylinder.

“You are going to get cleaned up and sit down,” Kalindinai said with a frown. In a surprising move she swept her daughter up in her arms and carried her to the diagnostic table and set her down.

Sarai stared at her mother. It was easy to forget the Queen also had the power of a shaladen. To a member of the Protectorate, Sarai’s weight might as well be that of an infant.

“Lord Vale,” Kalindinai said. “Please ask one of our healers to come look at Our daughter.”

The burly warrior nodded and ducked out.

Kalindinai looked to Wren. “Liandra, are not young ones the most vulnerable to takeover?”

The blonde ascendant’s glowing blue eyes widened. “Yes. They haven’t developed enough to resist.”

Kalindinai frowned and glanced toward the doorway that led to main infirmary. After a moment, she shook her head. “He isn’t likely to go after any of the young ones here. Their patterns are too well known and most of them have telepathic abilities—it would be detected too quickly. He wouldn’t want to go too far a field though, so it will be close, at least in terms of tao travel.”

Janai shook her head. “That’s a long way. How do we track him? It’s all so stupid, it’s like he’s inviting us to kill his body.”

“If we kill his body, he gets off easy,” Wren said. “He’s a mage. He may even have simulacrums prepared, so killing this body may just free him to switch into another body.” Wren answered. “The only reason I’m not convinced of that is he didn’t try to kill himself.” She rubbed a hand in her hair. “The problem is if we keep this body in stasis, he can run amok as long as he likes. Which he’ll do, he’ll raise as much hell as possible to encourage us to take him out of stasis and threaten his body. That, of course, gives him a chance to get back in it and get away.”

Daena put hands on hips, auburn hair falling down around her green eyes. “He’s a fool. Mother will turn him inside out.” She looked to Sarai. “Bannor, you could trace me even when I was stealthed. Can’t you do that with this guy?”

“I need my body for some of my powers,” Bannor told her.

“Would you know if you were close to him?”

“Of course, but—” Bannor started.

Daena held out a hand. “Give. I’ll find the bastard before he makes trouble.”

Sarai clutched the band on her arm and hugged him to her abdomen like he were her baby. “Like Hades.”

“Sar, but…”

“No!” Sarai snapped. “I just got him back damn it!”

Wren glanced between the two. “Sarai, would you trust me? I promise not to lose him. I’m not even sure he can be harmed now. Did you think about how you’ve been beating the snot out of Baronians and hitting walls with him?”

Sarai looked down at the band that was Xersis and the prison that had become the haven for his tao. He felt her heart skip a beat.

Kalindinai held up a hand. “Be still, we—”

Purple haired Wysteri breezed in with Corim following. She bowed to the queen and princesses. The mecha healer brushed at the black smock she wore which was dotted with blood from treating various injuries. She gestured and in a crackle and a flare of bluish light a cloth appeared in the air and dropped into her hand. She used it to wipe away the worst of the exposed blood as she looked over Sarai with a sympathetic expression.

The mecha woman shook her head. “You have a tough baby, Sarai. It’s a good thing with all the stress you put her under. This little one just soaks it up and keeps getting stronger. She’s going to be born a fighter that’s for certain.”

Bannor felt a wash of relief go through him, though the part about ‘being born a fighter’ made him vaguely uneasy. He didn’t want his daughter to be a warrior. To know how to defend herself yes… but make war—no child should have to know or have an instinct for that.

Kalindinai folded her arms. “What about Sarai?”

The mecha looked down at Sarai’s arms encased in the shaladens transformed into armbands. “Using two shaladens and channeling all their power would be stressful for anyone—especially an expecting mother. She is lucky that she was harmonized so closely with those weapons. She could have caused herself harm that only regeneration could have mended.”

“In other words, be careful damn it,” Kalindinai growled.

Wysteri put a hand on Sarai’s shoulder. “Mercedes and I knew it would be like this. She feels a little faint because her body is in recovery mode—that’s all.”

“Matradomma,” Wren said. “I don’t think we should let Wyyr do as he pleases. Daena or I need to get out there and look for him.”

Kalindinai frowned. “And I won’t have either of you running amok scaring the populous.”

“Mother,” Janai warned. “I think he’ll do that himself. He wants to draw us out of the citadel away from his body, so he can sneak in and escape.”

“Maybe we should just kill his body,” Corim said glancing at the case. “Even if it does allow him to transfer to another body, at least he will be out of our hair for the time being. When Mother Gaea and the others get back there will be no problem dealing with him.”

Kalindinai’s brow furrowed and swung a dismissing hand at the case. “Go ahead.”

The burly man scowled. Bannor knew that was exactly the sort of thing that would never sit well with him; executing a helpless prisoner.

“I can find him,” Bannor said aloud. “To be effective though, whoever has me will need to be able to fly.”

“Bannor, no,” Sarai said with a growl. “You aren’t leaving my side. That’s it. No discussion.”

“Sarai, you’re already synchronized with me. You can summon me any time you want!”

She frowned down at him. “Would you stop fussing?” She looked up. “Mother…”

“No,” Kalindinai said. “You’re going to rest. You don’t trust Wren or Daena, give him to me.”

“What?” Sarai slapped the edge of the diagnosis table. “No!”

“Sarai, he’ll be safe with me.”

“Star, it’ll be okay,” he tried to soothe.

Her voice rose. “It will be just fine, because you’re not leaving!” She drew a breath, a hysterical edge starting to come into her tone. “I—”

Bannor only saw the light from the diagnosis table come on. Then it seemed the room was abruptly cast in darkness. Everything inside his wife-to-be seemed to stop.

“What’s going on!” he yelled. “What’s happening to Sarai?!”

“Whoa!” he heard Corim say.

“Sar!” Janai let out.

“She’s fine,” Wysteri said. “I just sedated her.”

“Bannor, do you hear me?” Kalindinai asked.

“Yes,” he answered. “That scared me.”

“Bannor, will you allow me?”

“Matradomma, this is going to make Sarai very cross.”

“She was going to be cross when she found out her refusal to let you go cost the lives of citizens.” She sighed. “Will you lend your abilities to me or not?”

He couldn’t see anything. The world was blank and empty except for the beat of Sarai’s heart, and sparkle of life that was their unborn daughter. They had to get Wyyr before he hurt people.

“Yes, Matradomma,” he acquiesced. “My abilities are yours.”

He felt the Queen reach down and touch the shell of Xersis, sensing the surge of life-force as she pushed her will into the item and made it reform around her own arm.

A new sense stirred and he could see again, only now it was through the Queen’s eyes. He found it intriguing. It appeared she saw more clearly than Sarai. Faint outlines of color glimmered around the people in her view. Corim was gold, Janai was blue, while Daena had a silvery illumination. Wysteri also appeared gold in color though her aura seemed brighter.

Sarai lay on the diagnosis table, one arm across her middle. Her chest rose and fell in a slow but steady rhythm. She looked deep asleep. Wysteri stood by her with a hand on Sarai’s shoulder, eyes intent and probing.

As long as Sarai was okay, that was what mattered to him.

He focused back on Kalindinai, on spreading his nola through her body, bringing Xersis and her shaladen Vrinden into synchronous. The power of eternity hummed through the elf queen as the two weapons chimed first as a chord, and then as a single note of power.

Bannor felt Kalindinai stagger and gasp. “Whoo.” She gripped her chest.

“Matradomma?” Corim reached out to steady her.

“Bannor?” Kalindinai said with awe in her voice. “What did you do?”

“Same thing I did with Sarai, synchronized both shaladens with the garmtur.”

He felt Kalindinai shake her head. She blinked and let a breath out slow. “That—” She took another breath. “That’s amazing.”

“Are you all right, Mother?” Janai asked with a concerned tone.

Kalindinai swallowed. “Yes,” she cleared her throat. He felt the elder elf slowly master herself. Here was the difference between mother and daughter. Where Sarai had reveled in the sense of power, and had glossed over the possibilities, her mother dug in. He felt her pushing into the garmtur, feeling it, sensing its power. It started to worry him. Sarai hadn’t possessed all of the garmtur’s senses, but she wasn’t a sorceress and certainly not mistress of magic like Kalindinai. He saw the threads of the universe shimmer into the Queen’s sight. Her felt her press deeper into the skeins and sub-essences of the people and objects around her.

She pulled back. Whether because she was overwhelmed or afraid he didn’t know. “Yes,” she finally said. “I’m fine. I simply wasn’t prepared for him to open up his powers to me.” She turned to the others. “Janai, I want you stay here and watch your sister. Wren, you’re the strongest so you’ll stay as well. I’ll take Daena with me. Corim, if need be you can show me how to do that spell shackle?”

The warrior nodded. “Of course, Matradomma.”

“Mother, are you sure? Doesn’t this make you a target for the Daergons?” Janai asked.

“The reasons the Daergons wanted us is moot.” She held up the arm that was now encased in the metal of Xersis. “As far as they know, Bannor is dead. They would have to conclude that, because he’s not with the rest counter-attacking the Baronians. We wouldn’t keep him back if he was available.” She shook her head. “The attack on Sarai may simply have been a test to see if he was still alive. He would go to her even seriously injured if she were in danger.”

“Do you really think they know that much about me?” he asked.

Kalindinai shrugged. “I would hope that they don’t, but to be safe we must assume they do.” She turned to Corim. “Lord Vale, I have a special task for you.”

The man’s dark eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed. He nodded.

“I want you to stand by. If I request it, I want you to cut Wyyr.” She pointed to the enemy savant’s case. “I want it to be life threatening. I know you don’t want to kill, so have one of the healers stand by. I want to know if us killing this body is what he wants. We are not giving him what he wants.”

“Yes, Matradomma,” he said with a grim expression.

“So you plan to force him to seek a body if he doesn’t already have one prepared?” Wren asked.

“That’s the strategy, yes,” the Queen answered, running a hand through her dark hair.

“Are you sure you don’t want extra back up mother?” Janai asked, rubbing at her throat.

“If I need help, I’ll call for it,” she said. “I promise.” She looked to Daena. “Can you make yourself look like an elf?”

The girl smiled. “Of course.”

“Someone helpless—weak willed?”

Daena’s chin came up and she raised an eyebrow. “Like bait you mean?”

The Queen nodded.

“Absolutely,” Daena confirmed with a grin.

“Ah,” Wren tapped her temple. “I see. His body starts to kick off and he dives for a host, and you have a convenient body nearby.”

“And I grab him,” Daena said, wiggling her eyebrows. “He won’t sense me because I can stealth my aura.”

“Is she strong enough?” Janai wondered.

“She’s strong enough,” Bannor muttered.

“Oh,” Janai said in a sheepish tone. “I forgot.”

“Wysteri,” Kalindinai said looking back to Sarai. She stroked her daughter’s cheek. “Please see to Sarai.”

“Of course, Matradomma,” the mecha answered.

The Queen held out a hand to Daena, “come let us get moving, we’ve wasted too much time already.”

Daena bounced on her toes, came over and took the Queen’s hand. “Yes.”

Looking up into the young woman’s glowing green eyes it was hard to remember she was still really a child inside an adult’s body. A child with immense power and only a little experience using that tremendous potential. Bannor felt a surge of affection in Kalindinai. Daena had that affect on people.

“Dane,” Wren said in a serious tone. “Keep me apprised please.”

The girl rolled her eyes and waved at Wren as Kalindinai pulled her toward the exit. “It’ll be okay, he’s not even a full savant now.”

“He’s a bloody freaking elder, Dane,” Wren said, pointing a finger. “They are smart. Don’t be so damn sure of yourself. Watch your step. He might have contacted friends. Teleportation takes no time at all.”

“Okay, okay!” She cried as they headed through the main infirmary. Wren, Janai, and Corim followed with serious expressions on their faces. “I’ll be careful—yeesh.”

Kalindinai stopped by red-haired Arabella who still lay on the pallet pale and shivering. The lady bard did not look well.

She touched the woman’s hand.

Arabella looked up at her through slit eyes and tried to moan a greeting but was too weak to speak. She had grown a great deal worse in a very short time.

The Queen looked back toward Marna’s healer. “Octavia—a moment.”

The slender mecha looked up from a procedure she was performing on a piece of equipment. “Matradomma?”

The Queen waved her over.

Octavia rose and three of the Felspar daughters fell in behind her as she glided over to stand with Kalindinai.

“You cannot find anything wrong with this girl?”

Octavia looked down at Arabella. “I found no physical anomalies. There are definitely physical symptoms. I have been treating the pain but it has been having remarkably little effect.”

The elven woman touched the bard’s abdomen and the red-haired lady groaned and writhed. “Treat her for miscarriage.”

The mecha’s brow furrowed. “Pardon?”

“She pretended to be Sarai for almost a day and she was with child. Pregnant with an immortal child—a first one child. There’s powerful magic in that. It probably never occurred to anyone what might happen when she just suddenly shape changed it away.”

“Why was there no immediate reaction?”

Kalindinai spread her hands. “You’re the healer. You tell me. It’s just a theory.”

Octavia nodded. “Thank you, Matradomma, it’s plausible enough to test.”

The Queen looked back down to Arabella and patted her hand. She looked up to Wren and the others, nodded, then pulled on Daena. The two of them stepped into the hall and turned down the passage toward the audience hall. They stepped through the breech in the metallic barricade.

Kalindinai transformed Vrinden into a battlestaff with a swing of her arm. The weapon sparkled into glowing reality with a rasp of magic.

She looked at the staff, then down at the arm band that contained Bannor’s tao. “One could become very addicted to you, Son-to-be.”

“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere, Matradomma.”

He felt the smile in her voice. “Yes, but my daughter doesn’t share.”

Daena let out a breath. “Tell me about it.”

Kalindinai frowned at her. “Are you saying you aren’t satisfied with Janai?”

Daena focused wide eyes on her. “No, Matradomma, I didn’t mean it that way!”

The Queen tilted her head. “So, what did you mean?”

Daena’s jaw dropped. “Matradomma, she—she’s a woman.”

The Queen swung her staff around and walked with it clasped in both hands behind her back. She shook the hair out of her eyes and fixed the young ascendant with a stare. “So?”

The girl scrubbed her forehead. “I can’t believe we’re talking about this now.”

“We are walking quite fast, Child,” Kalindinai said, pausing to peer around a corner before proceeding. “When we get to the conference chambers I will teleport us into town. However, we are being somewhat cautious in that there may still be enemies about.”

“Yes, Matradomma.”

The Queen looked back. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Matra, girls can’t…” Her voice faded away.

“Could it be you’re trying to tell me something about biology?”

“You know I am. I’m a girl and she…” She made a helpless gesture. “She’s a woman!”

“And she’s rather infatuated with you,” Kalindinai said with a nod. “Do you know that’s the first time Janai has ever loved anyone—well, aside from her family.”

Daena thumped her temples. “Sarai already told me this. I just—just can’t…”

Kalindinai hummed to herself. “I see. Could you if Janai were a boy?”

“They don’t make boys that pretty,” Daena said with a laugh.

“Don’t avoid the question. What if she had been a boy all along, what then?”

The girl’s brow furrowed. “I don’t… know. I love her now, so maybe it would be a different kind of love.”

They rounded the corner into the council chambers and Kalindinai looked around. She stopped in the central griffon symbol. She swung the staff back in front of her and held it out to Daena who took hold.

The Queen drew a breath, closing her eyes and drawing on her focus, symbols and magical lines of focus and vector whirled through her mind as she chanted. Power gathered around them in a glowing blossom of light that swelled and then like a great golden wave crashed down in a boom.

The council chamber fragmented into a black void, and for a moment it seemed as if they were compressed down into a single point. Between heartbeats, the universe stretched out and snapped back leaving them in a new place.

The environs of the gallery on Terrace Illustra at Hill Court faded into solidity around them. People all around the court went into a frenzy of activity at seeing the Queen. Bannor doubted her appearing in such a public place was any accident. Kalindinai was obviously fulfilling another agenda as she took Daena by the wrist and strode through the court like she had never been away.

As she walked, a gesture transformed her armor and Daena’s into court robes. Jewels and lace flared into being in Daena’s hair, around her neck and on her fingers.

<Bannor,> the Queen thought for his hearing only. <Start looking, we are close to the citadel and you will not find a larger collection of weak-willed, greedy, power-hungry individuals than right here amongst the trade guilds.>

“Yes,” he acknowledged. He knew the Queen had a purpose of picking this place. She was right. It did lay very close to the citadel, less than a heartbeat of travel for someone in tao form. He started casting about for Wyyr’s nola control thread.

The Queen nodded and acknowledged the nobles who rose and bowed to her, but she did not pause, ignoring the wide eyed stares of the elves she left bowing and curtseying in her wake.

She focused on Daena. “Did I ever tell you what a stunning girl you are?”

Daena looked down at the shiny silk and satin robes which were in no way modest, showing off her long curvy body. Her cheeks colored. “No. Janai has though.”

“Well, you’re a capable girl. Every bit as fit as Bannor to marry one of my daughters. You are a bit young though…”

Daena coughed and sputtered. “Marry!?”

Kalindinai sighed. “You are so easily shocked.”

<Domma, should you be scaring her like that?> He asked privately in the Queen’s mind. <She needs to focus.>

The elder elf stared at the band containing his tao and frowned. <She needs to focus? You need to focus. Let me worry about how to handle things.>

If he had possessed a face he would have grimaced. Shades of the mother-in-law he remembered.

The Queen pressed through another group of gentry all vying to get her attention and to get answers from her. She pushed by with smiles and waves.

“Let me show you something I learned,” Kalindinai said. She made a gesture, focusing through the shaladen. Sparks scintillated around the device, then spun outward and gathered around Daena. In a moment, a diamond of glowing light appeared on Daena’s forehead. A shimmering mist formed around her limbs and she drifted off the floor.

The girl looked down. “Whoa, Ziedra’s flight magic!”

The Queen repeated the process on herself, and the two of them drifted above Hill Court’s crowds of patrons. A chorus of ooohs and ahhhs filtered through the observers as they drifted higher.

“Matradomma,” Daena said, now seeming to get concerned. “Aren’t we attracting a lot of attention?”

“Yes, we are,” the Queen acknowledged. “It’s very obvious I’m searching for something, and it will spread rapidly—as will where it appears we are heading.” She hovered closer to Daena. “You never know when we might disappear.”

Daena smiled. “Oh, okay. I understand.”

“I knew you would.”

They flew east away from Hill Court out over the trees and foliage threaded through with trails, gardens, and streams. The elder elf ducked down into a thicket after a short distance, slipping into the thickest trees where visibility appeared near non-existent.

“Did you sense anything, Bannor?” the Queen asked.

His first instinct was to shake his head. That made him want to sigh and he couldn’t do that either. “No,” he responded.

“Do you know if we’re even close?”

“Give me a moment.”

He focused through the Queen. Channeling his nola into her and reaching back toward the source of all savant power. After a few more instants he located the root of Wyyr’s nola essence. He spidered along that ephemeral cord, tracing it to its current location.

“Matradomma, turn in a circle until I say stop.”

The Queen did as he asked. Her gaze took in only trees and bushes, but he was going by the feel of his nola.

“Stop,” Bannor instructed. “He’s out of my range, but he’s somewhere in that direction. Not far, just not close enough to pinpoint.”

The Queen patted Daena on the shoulder and the two of them rose out of the tree cover and looked. Where she faced was nowhere near Hill Court. It was north of the city proper, down in the thickest trees in the western valley.

“What’s over there?” Daena wondered.

The Queen stared for a moment. She closed her eyes and rocked her head back. “Of course! The mage’s guild!”

“Huh? I thought he would want someone easy to manipulate.”

“Yes, but to do any significant damage he needs a body conditioned to wielding arcane energy! Disguise yourself and come.”

Daena closed her eyes, brow furrowing. She pressed her hands together and a sheen of liquid seemed to shimmer on the surface of her skin. With a bubbling frothing sound, her size diminished, limbs thinning and shifting in proportion. Her tan skin darkened and became a shiny nut brown. Her bright auburn hair flickered and turned to a shimmering green. The strong lines of Daena’s face became the sharp angles of an elf. She sighed and opened her eyes that were now a glowing umber color.

Bannor recognized her, but not immediately from where.

“Jacullan?” Kalindinai said tilting her head and pressing out her lip. “A very good likeness. You have become very skilled in shape changing.”

Daena grinned. “Thank you, Matradomma,” she said in a high reedy voice.

The Queen tilted back her head, and to Bannor’s perception the world went black as Kalindinai closed her eyes to focus. She raised her staff focusing her mind through it and into her body. Weaves and threads of magic spun through her limbs and an odd tingling sensation went through her body and Bannor could hear her flesh bubbling and changing.

When she opened her eyes again everything looked the same although the hands holding the staff looked smaller and more fragile.

She ran a finger down her cheek and focused on Daena. “So?”

“Very meek, Matradomma,” Daena remarked.

“Then it is a good job,” she responded. “Let us move separately, land a ways from the guild grounds. There is a triangle obelisk in front of the entrance. I will meet you there.”

Daena nodded and shot off over the trees.

Kalindinai moved at a more leisurely pace but stayed high up so as not to be recognized from the ground.

“Would you really let her marry Janai?” he asked.

“You jest,” Kalindinai said with a laugh. “Can you think of the grand children? Of course I would. I’m letting you marry Sarai.”

“What about Elven purity?”

“Purity…” Kalindinai shook her head. “All we are trying to do is protect our heritage, our lifespans and our closeness to nature.” She sighed. “You are Gaea’s direct descendant. You are an aspect of nature and a true immortal. That is not blood that will make us weak.” She looked in the direction where Daena had gone. “That is even more true for Daena. My brother and husband have been concerned about humans weakening the elves. What they have never really entertained is that it is we ourselves who are growing weak because of our closed society. Unfortunately, to even say that out loud is the worst kind of heresy. Some changes the nobles are going to have to accept despite themselves. One half-immortal elf could restore blood a hundred generations degenerated from our Silcanna progenitors. We could have back the arts and abilities long lost to us.” They had flown past the western edge of the valley and Kalindinai began a gradual descent. “So, yes, I would let them marry, especially since I know Janai wants children.”

He had never realized that the Queen harbored such ambitions, and never imagined that he had actually become a part of her plans.

They landed in the trees and Kalindinai picked her way down the slope and into the clearing that was the main courtyard for the mage’s guild. The black stone obelisk that the Queen mentioned sat in the center, surrounded by carefully manicured hedges. Three streams edged in stone and crossed by miniature bridges wound through the clearing making isolated islands where benches and statuary were situated. Colored mage-lights danced in the boughs of the dense forest canopy that created an almost solid dome over the area where little sunlight could enter.

Kalindinai moved across the clearing, boots clacking across the wooden bridges. The area seemed strangely bereft of animal and insect sounds. In their place was a muted tinkling like that of tiny wind chimes.

Bannor focused back on his task, reaching out for signs of Wyyr.

“He’s close,” Bannor told her. Through the Queen’s body he sensed the presence of a savant, a strong one. “I can feel him. His aura has changed so he’s probably already got a body.”

<Fine,> she thought to him. <That just makes it easier for us.>

As they moved in, they saw Daena, now with green hair and dark skin moving up to join them at the center of the clearing. The other elves, engrossed in their conversations paid no attention to either of them.

<Daena,> Kalindinai thought to younger woman. <Cover my aura, just in case he can see through the shaladen.>

The girl nodded and Bannor felt Kalindinai’s threads kink in on themselves and twist in strange sensation that made her skin prickle.

<Done,> Daena answered. <Bannor do you—> She froze, body stiffening in mid-stride. <—sense him?> She shuddered. <Whoa.>

Bannor felt an icy sensation work its way through Kalindinai. The feeling of a powerful savant. It didn’t make sense though. Wyyr didn’t feel that strong before.

Kalindinai swallowed. <I feel it too.>

The two of them moved forward together. Crossing the bridges with matched strides. Ahead, trees had been shaped into a forbidding thorny wall, studded with glowing gems.

A pair of formidable appearing elves dressed in white stood at an elaborate filigreed mithril gate several paces high. Neither wore armor, but the jeweled tunics, gloves and stylized boots they wore showed as powerful magic in Kalindinai’s vision.

Neither acknowledged Kalindinai, their dark unblinking eyes remained fixed straight ahead, bodies still as death, only the rise and fall of their chests showing they lived.

Daena stepped behind the Queen as she approached the gate. Kalindinai said nothing, she only raised her hand and a groaning sound went through the huge magic valves. With a hum, the metal parted in the middle and left a gap wide enough for them to step in.

The guards did not respond and Kalindinai strode into the opening without hesitation.

Bannor didn’t wait to be asked, he extended his senses, feeling for Wyyr’s nola connection and following it to its origin.

The inner yard was a circular ring of trees that had been shaped to form an elaborate mosaic of boughs and branches overhead. Jeweled paper lanterns hung down into the space casting a rainbow of color on the four huge carved marble cisterns that poured water into channels that zigzagged through the area.

Several elves that Bannor assumed were guild mages stood in small groups through the area. They looked up at their entry but focused their attention elsewhere after only a few heartbeats.

Didn’t the appearance of strangers alarm them?

He would ponder the strangeness at some other time. <Matradomma, I sense Wyyr ahead and to our right.>

Kalindinai headed toward an opening in the trees. “Stay alert, Daena.”

The young ascendant nodded.

They moved into the gap where crisscrossing tree branches formed an arch-roofed corridor. Watching through the Queen’s eyes, Bannor couldn’t understand the sense of power he was picking up. Wyyr wasn’t that strong in the flesh. How could he be that powerful in tao form alone? The only way he could detect that strong might be if he had joined with an immortal shell. If that was true, why was he still here?

Kalindinai peered down every side passage, and eyed every elf they saw. Even though he didn’t have a body, Bannor felt tension in the air. The hesitant way that Daena moved indicated that she felt it too.

“He’s somewhere just ahead,” Bannor advised. “It feels like it can’t be more than a few dozen steps.”

The Queen paused where the passage split. The way on the left formed a pocket with doors on three sides. On the right, the corridor continued for ten paces and ended at a door. The trees seemed to sigh around them, the air guttering and swirling through the branches with a low moaning. Voices chanting in ritual unison echoed from somewhere in the complex. A flurry of bird wings resounded overhead, the noise loud for an instant then fading into silence.

Kalindinai turned to Daena. The young woman in the disguise of an elf poised with narrowed glowing umber eyes, fists clenched and teeth gritted.

The Queen focused on the right. She raised her staff and started down the right-hand path.

The door at the end of the left branch squeaked and opened, and a figure dressed in white entered. She stepped into the passage in eerie silence, hard spike heel boots making no sound as she strode forward. The female was of only average size, but the confidence and authority in her body language made her seem like a giant.

Kalindinai’s attention centered on the female. As she approached, it was obvious she was not an elf. Her figure was too full, and her skin had more of a greenish hue. The lines of her face made her look more like a human from the eastern steps with long upturned eyes and a tiny mouth.

She stopped just beyond where the passage split and brushed back silk-fine hair that looked like strands of liquid shadow. The female blinked, her dark eyes becoming glistening pools the color of blood.

The creature smiled. The power that Bannor had been sensing was here. That was not Wyyr!

Kalindinai took a step back, hands tight on the shaladen.

She started to speak when the door on the right passage burst open and what looked like a young male elf dressed in torn acolyte’s robes came pelting out. He crossed the half the distance to Kalindinai and Daena before he saw them and came sliding to a stop just before the turn in the passage. He gripped the corner, chest heaving, breaths coming in ragged series.

He gazed at them with wide amber eyes, blond hair hanging in strands, fear twisting his features, perspiration running down his angular face. Whatever terror he was feeling seemed to be only increased as he spotted Kalindinai and Daena.

The elf glanced back to the open doorway and then back to them. With a grunt, he launched himself forward and around the branch toward the other corridor.

Already driving toward a full sprint he threw himself backward into a sliding stop, falling down on his haunches as he tried to backpedal away from the female with blood-colored eyes.

He let out a scream and made a clawing gesture. With a roar, the wooden wall next to the female exploded. The storm of wood, sand and stone blasted over the creature, shredding and decimating the wall on the opposite side of the corridor.

Unmoved by the powerful attack the strange female scowled at him, eyes narrowing. She reached up to her cheek and daubed at a trickle of blood that ran down from her temple. Tilting her head, she brought the finger to her lips and sucked the blood from it. She grinned with bloody teeth. Even though he didn’t have a body, Bannor felt a shiver go through him.

Kalindinai and Daena closed the gap behind the elf.

The elf, who had to be Wyyr, glared at them and then back to the new-comer who raised her chin, and peered at him through her lashes.

<Daena,> Kalindinai warned. <Get ready. He’s going to bolt.>

The girl raised her hands which started glowing.

Wyyr thrust a hand at them, Kalindinai swung her staff, guarding away most of a blast that made the floor erupt beneath them. She and Daena only flinched back for an instant, but in that heartbeat the body of the young elf went limp and the shadowy specter of the evil savant’s tao shot upward out of it.

“No! D—” Kalindinai yelled.

The Queen didn’t even finish her warning before the woman in white leaped and clawed into Wyyr’s racing tao.

Bannor had never heard a tao spirit howl, but Wyyr did as the unknown lady’s glowing hand impaled his essence as though it were something solid. The elder savant writhed and screamed as she pulled him back to the floor with her burning fingers lodged in him as though shoved into the soft rind of a melon.

Wyyr continued to pitch and writhe, wailing and blubbering in pain. The red-eyed woman watched his contortions with a scowl. She raised her free hand and gestured.

In rasp of magic, and a puff of displaced air, Wyyr’s physical body shimmered into being. Bits and pieces of the Kriar stasis apparatus sparked and flared around the now convulsing body.

Muttering arcane words she slammed Wyyr’s tao down into his body, the way an angry farmer might shove straw into a flawed scarecrow. Wyyr’s back arched, his thin limbs twitching as his mouth opened in a hoarse cry of agony.

She gestured again, surrounding him in a gold sheen of magic. The Ta’Arthak’s movements froze as though he had been turned to stone.

One knee still on the floor, the red-eyed woman locked gazes with Kalindinai. Bannor felt another cold shiver go through him. He felt the Queen swallow a lump. The power of this intruder was enormous. She had reached through the shields surrounding the citadel and the infirmary and plucked out Wyyr’s body with no effort at all. Bannor wasn’t sure if even one of the eternals could do that!

Next to the Queen, Daena was frozen and staring with wide eyes.

Giving Wyyr’s unconscious head an irritated shove, the female rose to her feet. Balanced on spike heels she looked down at Kalindinai. Her gaze then went to Daena. She licked her lips like a hungry wolf pondering a fresh piece of meat. Her gaze came back to the Queen.

Light flickered in the woman’s crimson eyes. “Bane,” she said in an icy tone that echoed with power. She raised a long nailed hand sparking with magic and tilted her head toward them. “Vulcindra Skybane.”

Return to Contents

Chapter Twenty-Seven

She stepped into the back hall of the
mage’s guild, a place protected by ten
millennia of overlapping wards so strong
that even pantheon lords didn’t bother. This
person, this Vulcindra, walked in like she
owned the kingdom. When confronted by
Wyyr, she took a hit that would have felled
ten warriors and sniffed it off. One of the
oldest and most powerful savants we had
met and she dealt with him like she would a
child. When she was done, she turned those
blood red eyes on me and I just had to
shudder…
—Kalindinai T’Evagduran,
Queen of Malan

Kalindinai stared up at the newcomer, seemingly mesmerized by the powerful creature. Daena stepped closer to the Queen, umber-colored eyes wide, apparently afraid to look away. Vulcindra did nothing overt, leaning back on her high heels, crimson eyes studying the two of them with what seemed to be vague amusement. She fingered a long gold chain hanging around her neck, and nibbled absently at a long silver-lacquered nail. Around them the quiet of the mage precincts echoed with warning gongs, and the sound of boots pounding toward them came from different directions.

As the storm of rapidly approaching elves drew close, Vulcindra raised her chin. Her voice made the walls vibrate. “Do keep your rabble back. I don’t do crowds.” She narrowed her eyes and started to raise a hand. “At least, not the way you’d prefer…”

Bannor felt the jolt of realization sing through Kalandinai. She slammed her staff on the floor, sending a surge of magic swelling through her body.

She spun and threw out a hand. “Stop! Approach no closer!”

As the Queen of Malan revealed herself, staff and rod upraised, the guards slid to a stop, glowing eyes wide.

“Please!” she said with even more volume.

Still breathing hard, the elves stared at her, weapons gripped in white knuckled hands. Except for one in red, the dozen or so guild guardians were dressed in white enameled cuirasses, embossed with gold filigree—the precinct’s high guard.

Kalindinai pushed the black rod of state into her sash. She touched between her breasts and her hand glowed. A silver disk flared into being between her fingers. She held out the metal emblem embossed with the griffon symbol of Malan, jewels and filigree winking on its surface.

“Lower your weapons,” she added, swinging the seal so all of them could view it.

The guards dropped the points of their weapons. The single guard in red sheathed his sword and stepped forward. He stood taller than the others though not as big King T’Evagduran. His hair had a golden color like metal, and his glowing eyes were the color of dark sapphires. “Matradomma,” he said with a bow of his head. “Pardon the presumption. Please let me verify your seal.”

The Queen stiffened. She glanced back at Vulcindra. The female had dropped her hand, and stood watching with arms folded. When Kalindinai’s gaze met hers, she raised an eyebrow and made a little smile.

Kalindinai nodded and came forward to hold the symbol out. The blond elf bowed and approached. He removed a ring from a chain around his neck and placed it on his hand. He held his hand over the proffered device. A green glow illuminated the ring.

He bowed again. “My apologies, Matradomma,” he said with cough. “Things have been very strange of late.”

“Yes,” she responded. “All is as it should be senior praelor. We will be leaving directly.” Kalindinai turned back to the young elf collapsed and now twitching on the floor. She made a circular motion with her staff and the boy rose off the ground and floated toward the nearest guard who sheathed his weapon and caught him. Another guard stepped over and they each took and arm over their neck to support him.

“Take him to a healer,” she requested. “I have the one who assaulted him here.” She nudged Wyyr’s glowing body with her staff. “I will deal with this villain. You may secure this area as soon as we are gone. Until then, if your squad will be kind enough to give Us some room.”

She glanced back toward Vulcindra then back to him, eyes narrowing. Bannor sensed her moving her lips but couldn’t tell what she was saying. The lead guard seemed to understand, because he raised his chin and glanced toward Vulcindra. He paled. He turned to the other elves and gestured them back the way they had come.

Kalindinai watched them until they were out of sight, and then turned toward Vulcindra.

The woman with crimson eyes ran a tongue over her lips. She turned her head. “I do find dark-haired elves attractive. It is unfortunate your own kind see it as an outsider’s trait.”

Bannor felt Kalindinai mustering her resolve. He knew that she would stare down pantheon lords, but this creature scared her and for good reason. Somewhere in the exchange Daena had come to be gripping her arm like she’d become attached.

“Kidomma Skybane,” Kalindinai said with a nod. “We thank your intervention in this matter. We were dreading a long hunt for that one.” She cast her gaze at Wyyr’s still form.

Vulcindra glanced down at the savant and shoved him with her foot. The expression on her face was like she was examining a pile of excrement. “He used to be a lackey of mine until a decade or so ago. I sensed his attacks against a Shael Dal and came to collect him.”

“A Shael Dal?” the Queen murmured. “But you are not a shaladen wielder.”

Vulcindra raised an eyebrow. “Only amateurs need a special focus to gain access to the Protectorate powers.” She pursed her lips. “I find you having two shaladens, especially in such perfect synchronous, to be quite intriguing. Pray, how does one so young accomplish such a thing?”

Kalindinai frowned. “I’m not that young.”

The other woman rolled her eyes and snorted. “I mark you at two and half millennia at the outside. You are just starting to learn what magic is about.” She turned her baleful eyes on Daena. “While you are of interest, it is this young one that fascinates me. Pray, show me your real self.”

Daena swallowed. “You can see my aura?”

The dark woman grinned. “That bending of energies is only good against cretins.”

“Cretins?” Daena breathed. “It works against pantheon lords and some of the eternals!”

Vulcindra waved a hand in front of her face like something smelled bad. “As I said. Show me.” She flicked her other hand at Daena and sparks flared around the young woman’s body.

The girl gasped as a red glow surrounded her, her flesh frothed and bubbled and returned to its normal shape. In a matter of instants she was standing in her original ascendant form clothed in skintight black. She loomed over Kalindinai, long auburn hair gleaming and sparking, green glowing eyes wide with surprise.

Vulcindra rocked her head back and laughed. The sound echoed in the wood and stone corridor. Bannor didn’t have skin, but felt a prickling sensation just the same.

“So, this is what Koass was hiding from me, how very droll.” She bit her tongue. “And such a sweet attractive young thing you are. Just like candy.” She rubbed her fingers together. “You should come give your big sister a kiss.”

The young ascendant staggered forward two steps before digging in with a grunt of effort. “Uhhh, hey, no!”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “Ah and strong-willed too; how delectable.”

“Kidomma Skybane,” Kalindinai said. “I don’t want to appear rude, not after the favor you have done us. Perhaps there is some point to all this?”

“A point?” Vulcindra sniffed. “Not really. This thing with the Baronians is annoying. Sroth is spending far too much of his attention on this matter rather than on me.”

“Sroth?” Kalindinai said. “Eternal Sroth?”

“Do you know another?” She held out a hand and Wyyr’s glowing body drifted up to it. “Since Koass won’t allow me to be directly involved in things, this seemed to be the most appropriate bit of peripheral entertainment.”

“I see,” Kalindinai said. “So, are you planning to incarcerate him so he won’t cause any trouble?”

“Incarcerate?” Vulcindra said with a frown. “Why would I waste such resources on this traitorous wight? I would have killed him already except I am not positive I got all his bodies.”

“As long as he doesn’t bother us again, I don’t care,” Kalindinai said. “He tried to kidnap my daughter.”

“Ah,” Vulcindra said with a nod. “She was the one I felt fighting him. As I recall she had two shaladens synchronized as well… interesting.” She narrowed her eyes. She flicked a finger at Kalindinai’s wrist, the one with Xersis clamped around it. The Queen’s arm jerked up and she was dragged sliding toward the powerful mage.

“Hey!”

“There it is,” Vulcindra said, eying the band without touching it. “How did one of my siblings get in there? Surely, Brother, you can talk—share what must be an entertaining story.”

“Sister Vulcindra, please let her go,” he said.

“Why?” she asked, frowning.

“Because as you said, we are kin,” he answered. “None of us contest that you are stronger than we are. I can see that you use your nola to fold space in such a way that you can tap an unlimited amount of eternity’s energy. We can’t fight that.”

She stared at the band as if she could see him. She dropped her gesture and Kalindinai relaxed. “Tell me your name.”

“Bannor,” he answered.

“And you can see that from inside a shaladen?”

“It’s not easy,” he answered.

“Never mind,” Vulcindra said. “I—” She stopped, and tilted her head. “The Daergons are not friends of yours, right?”

“Definitely not,” the Queen answered.

The woman with crimson eyes sighed. “Come.” She made a hooking gesture with her finger. “Get closer. If I let those gold freaks have you, Koass will give me another century of probation.”

As Daena and Kalindinai stepped closer Vulcindra made a slashing motion with her hand. The air itself seemed to be sliced open. Instead of them going to the cut, it came to them like a hungry maw that chomped down on them in gust of storm struck air.

The threads of the universe kinked around them and abruptly straightened, leaving the three of them in the citadel infirmary. Their abrupt appearance causing all three mecha healers to clutch their chests in fright, and send wounded Kriar and valkyries surging to their feet.

Kalindinai held up her staff. “It’s okay! Calm. Calm.”

The Queen’s yell forestalled the Valkur and Kriar while they were still steps away.

Wren and Corim came sprinting in from the hall and slid to a stop in the doorway.

“Lady Vulcindra,” Octavia said. There was an uncharacteristic tremble in the mecha’s voice. Usually they were so imperturbable. “What—what are you doing here?”

“Octavia?” Vulcindra replied. “Interesting.” She dropped Wyyr’s body like a sack of rocks. His thudded on the floor like a wooden log. “One might ask the same of you.”

Octavia surreptitiously stepped in front of Wysteri, Mercedes and the Felspar children as if to shield them. “Counsel Solaris and domma Eladrazelle bid me take care of mother Gaea.”

“Gaea?” Vulcindra’s eyebrows rose. She looked to Wren. “Another sister.” Her gaze fixed on Corim. “Hello, little boy, still soul-sharing with Aarlen I see.”

Corim swallowed but bowed his head. “Highness Skybane.”

Vulcindra put hands on hips. “So—many—toys!” She growled. “I will never forgive Koass, I—” She stopped in mid-word as her gaze settled on Arabella. She brushed past Kalindinai and stepped over to the pallet with the red-haired bard. The woman looked better than she had when they left but she still looked ill. “Bella,” she brushed a hand through the woman’s thick locks. “My, you’ve seen better days.”

The bard groaned. “Tell me about it.”

Vulcindra’s expression turned serious. She put a hand against Arabella’s neck.

Octavia lurched forward and held out a hand. “Lady, please…”

Vulcindra scowled at her. This time the growl was an angry growl. “Yes?”

The mecha swallowed, and bit her tongue in silence.

The dark woman picked up the bard’s hands one at a time and examined her fingers. “You’ve been fighting without gauntlets again,” the woman said. “How are you supposed to play properly with your hands mangled?”

“Sorry, Mistress,” Arabella murmured.

She put a hand gently on the bard’s abdomen, and the red-haired woman cringed and gritted her teeth.

Bannor saw Wren look to Corim who stood frozen, and then to the Kriar and valkyries who were not moving. She shoved past the shaladen warrior and strode over to Vulcindra.

Kalindinai and Daena tried to wave Wren off but the blonde ascendant ignored it. She stopped a step from the dark woman, flipped back her blonde hair, and glared at her with glowing blue eyes. “Excuse me, Lady Vulcindra was it? Should you be doing that? You can’t just come in here like you own the place and do as you please.”

Arabella threw out a hand to Wren. “Wren, no…” she tried to rise and started coughing and groaning. “D-don’t.”

Vulcindra pushed Arabella back down. “Hush.”

“I think you should stop touching her,” Wren growled. Even through Kalindinai’s body, he felt the room tremble. This was not fragile Wren he remembered from Hecate’s war, running and dodging from lesser demons. This was an ascendant with enormous power, able to withstand the blast of one of the Kriar great weapons and devastate dozens of Baronians with a single attack.

The dark woman raised her chin, red eyes suddenly burning like flames. “Our kinship is no license to take that tone with me. I go where I want and do what I want. Back off.” She shoved Wren back a step, her silver nailed hand sparking as it hit something around Wren’s skin. “You can glare at me, but what good is a perfect magical defense and infinite resources if I dump your cute little arse in a star, hmmm? I guarantee you can’t redirect that. So, run along. I’ll play with you later.”

She went back to what she was doing and ignored Wren.

Bannor felt the wind in the room begin to swirl. The blonde ascendant’s hair stirring in the haze of power gathering around her body. She stepped forward and grabbed Vulcindra’s arm. “I think you’ll be going now.”

“Fool,” Vulcindra growled. The room trembled. “So be it.”

She slammed a palm against Wren’s chest that deflected with a flare of sparks.

Wren raised an eyebrow. “Yes, your majesty?” She backhanded the powerful immortal. The force of the blow made the whole room vibrate.

The impact knocked Vulcindra back.

“Look Lady,” Wren snarled. The air in the room crackled. “You are not the queen bad girl you think you are. Test me and I guarantee you won’t be happy with the results.”

The dark woman clenched her fist and dropped into a fighting stance.

“I swear to Gaea,” Wren boomed. “You swing on me, I will frelling rip out your nola and your magic talent and feed them to you.”

“Right,” Vulcindra said with a fierce grin, and started forward.

“Be,” Wren rumbled. A thundering blackness surrounded her body, and her hands became gleaming stars. Bannor saw the whole room become choked with threads, millions of them, so many he had to stop looking through his nola. Wren made a fist and pulled down.

Vulcindra made an incoherent sound and staggered to one knee.

“I fought Hecate with a half-immort body,” Wren said. “I beat her like a dirty rug. This body is, oh, around ten times stronger. If you want, I can add a little more power and tie all that skharvarren of yours in knots and you can live with that for the rest of your life.”

“Urrr…” Vulcindra growled, veins standing out on her arms and neck. “You—can’t—do—that.”

Dark clouds spun around Wren’s body. Heat images shimmered on the surface of her skin. She stepped forward and gripped Vulcindra’s shuddering face. “You don’t get it do you? There’s only one head boss lady and that’s Gaea.” She put a hand behind Vulcindra’s head and twined her fingers in her hair and pulled.

The woman with the blood colored eyes gritted her teeth, eyes of flame narrowed. “Let go.”

“Make me,” Wren rumbled bringing herself nose to nose with the other woman. “A hundred… a thousand… ten thousand first ones, I can be them all at once—that was the legacy Gaea left to me so I could handle folks just like you. You might be the biggest bad-arse in your demesnes… but I have news for you.” She patted the woman’s cheek with a smoldering hand. “You aren’t so bad. So, you want to be polite or do I have to neuter all your powers?”

“That—urk,” Vulcindra gasped. “—won’t be necessary.”

Wren closed her fist which began to glow red, and rasps of lightning crackled around it. “Try it again—with feeling.”

“Urrgh!” the woman moaned through sputtering lips. “A-a-all right!”

Wren tilted her head, gleaming eyes narrow. “All right, what?”

“Grrr!” With what seemed a truly massive effort Vulcindra sent a hand whistling into Wren’s throat and clamped down. “I will not—”

The fierce look on Wren’s face was that of something wild, something near to losing control. “I don’t remember giving you a choice. Say it… say it now.”

Vulcindra managed to get another hand around Wren’s throat. “No! I will… arrgh!” She rocked her head back and howled as blood began weeping from her eyes and ears.

Wren’s voice dropped. “Say it, or you will be a useless lump!” The ascendant roared. “How many times have you done this to others, Vulcindra? How many thousands, how many millions? You use Gaea’s gifts and even the eternals step carefully around you. You think I can’t see—think I don’t know. I see it all you vindictive cruel little bitch. I thought Hecate was bad.” She yanked on Vulcindra’s hair causing her to yelp in pain. “Last chance.”

Vulcindra dropped her hands. “M-m-my lady, I—I—arrrgh!” She let out another pained howl. “I apologize! I will—urrgh—behave!” Wren squeezed again. “Nnngh. I swear!”

Wren tossed her back on the floor. The ascendant stepped back and with a heave of effort tossed off the power of Starholme Prime like she were shedding a cloak.

The blackness sizzled away and drifted up toward the ceiling and was gone. Wren drew a breath, puffed out her cheeks and let it out slow. Bannor noticed her hands were shaking. She put them behind her back.

Vulcindra lay in a sprawl on the floor staring at her. All the Kriar, valkyries, and children gazed with wide eyes and more than a little fear.

Wren turned to Arabella. “You okay?”

The red-haired bard swallowed and nodded.

Wren focused back on Vulcindra. “Since you seem to know how to cure what’s wrong with her, please do so. No more bullying.”

The elder looked at her hands and flexed her fingers. She touched her bloody face and the back of her head. “What did you do to me? I can feel something.”

“Oh, that,” Wren shrugged. “I know I can’t trust you. So I left a seed of the soulbiter in you, stitched into your tao where there’s no defense from it. If I die, go unconscious, hades… maybe even if I belch it might be invoked. In fact, you know I forget the conditions for it being activated. It might even go off if you even look cross-eyed at one of my friends. I sealed it good too, and I triggered the master psyche at Starholme to watch you… if you tamper with it at all… you will be without a tao, without a nola, you will be everything but in a grave.”

Vulcindra glared at her. “That—” She paused and swallowed. She drew a breath, she seemed to cool. She narrowed her eyes and rubbed away the blood on her face. The wounds on her skin instantly healed. “That was well done. Pray, how will I get it removed?”

“You won’t. I know you would never kiss my arse—so I won’t ask. You want it removed you will have to ask Koass or Gaea. I left conditions in it so either of them can do it and I know you would rather spit blood than ask Koass for anything.”

“Yes,” Vulcindra growled.

“We don’t have to be enemies,” Wren said in a flat tone. “We’re kin. The problem is you don’t respect anybody unless they’re stronger than you, and I can’t keep using Starholme to keep you in line. It’s too dangerous.”

The dark woman pushed to her feet. “One demonstration was sufficient—” She smiled. “Milady.”

Wren closed her eyes and seemed to inwardly quail. “Vulcindra, tell me you aren’t planning on sticking around are you?”

“Why of course, I am. I have to get you to remove that soulbiter. I am not going to leave my fate to random chance.”

Wren grimaced.

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

Return to Contents

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Sometimes it is those we are closest too,
the ones we think we know, that can
surprise and frighten us the most. I had
heard that Wren confronted Hecate, that
once she wielded the entire legacy of the
first ones. To hear tell, and to see it for
yourself are vastly different things…
—Kalindinai T’Evagduran,
Queen of Malan

Wren didn’t further antagonize Vulcindra, nor did the powerful immortal seek to bully or intimidate. Instead, the dark lady’s demeanor went from hungry predator to delighted guest; a change that did little to alleviate the tension around her. She possessed incredible power, far stronger than Aarlen, and because of her magic and nola powers, probably even the Kriar time masters like Quasar and Eclipse. Long ago, Bannor lost his fear of powerful creatures, but he did find Vulcindra’s knowledge to be disconcerting. She seemed altogether too intertwined with the eternals, the savants, the protectorate—she knew them all and it wasn’t knowledge just picked out of their minds by a telepathically savvy elder. She had been involved from the shadows.

Sitting on an unused treatment pallet, Kalindinai sat with her arm around Janai, who was in turn sitting next to Daena. Sarai, lay on the pallet in front of them. Shortly after Wren’s confrontation with Vulcindra, the little G’Yakki warrior Vera appeared in the doorway. She didn’t say anything, but she hung next to the blonde ascendant like a lost child. Wren, Corim, and Vera sat together on another unused pallet, they, like practically everyone else in the room, watched Vulcindra.

The only person that didn’t feel threatened by the elder was Arabella, there being some past relationship between the two of them. Multiple times Bannor heard mention of ‘playing’, and with Arabella being a renowned bard from Corwin, he could only guess that they were somehow involved in music. How or where that connected to anything he didn’t know.

One thing was certain, Vulcindra made the mecha healers nervous and Octavia acted particularly agitated by her presence. Hands rubbing together, and biting her lower lip, she fretted two steps back from Arabella as the dark elder examined and treated her ailment.

Vulcindra seemed to draw immense pleasure from the healer’s discomfiture. She grinned the whole time she worked on the red-haired bard. The process involved something to do with energies that utilized strange fundamental threads Bannor had never seen used by a creature before. Whatever it was, it seemed to work because the stricken woman began to respond with greater and greater strength.

While Vulcindra worked, Wysteri and Mercedes secured Wyyr again. The savant’s glowing stasised body shackled and sealed inside of another stasis chamber to await Gaea’s judgment.

“So,” Vulcindra said after a time. “How now?”

Arabella drew a breath and pressed a hand to her stomach. Her movements no longer looked so pained, and much of her color had returned. She nodded. “Much better, thank you, Mistress,” she answered. “The pain is gone.”

“Good,” the elder responded. She brushed back shimmering mass of shadows that was her hair. She turned and focused blood red eyes on Octavia and pointed a finger. “Kriar science cannot be used to treat matters of living magic. Treating symptoms and shifting body chemistry do nothing to rectify the root cause. Make sure all your little mechanical friends know that so they—” She seemed to catch herself. “Bah. Never mind. Damn Sroth, Koass—damned busybody eternals.” She turned back to Arabella. “So, where is this one Foross had you mimic? Is she here?”

Arabella blinked. “Yes, she’s right there…” She pointed.

“Oh really?” Vulcindra turned.

Kalindinai was off the pallet like a shot. “No.”

“No,” Bannor echoed. Damn, he hated not having a body. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t protect Sarai.

The elder rolled her eyes. “I promise not to touch her. Isn’t what happened to Arabella lesson enough? These mecha are master healers, true enough, but when it comes to magical life… they are wandering in the dark. Her—” She glanced back to Octavia. “Mother… Eladrazelle along with Marna Solaris are part of a Kriar backed consortium trying desperately to study and master the Jyril living magic. I will never forgive Theln for caving into them. Without her they would be completely lost.”

Kalindinai gasped. “Wait—Theln? The elven sorceress?”

Vulcindra’s brow furrowed. “Elven?” She put a hand to her mouth. Crimson eyes going wide. “Oh, is that what all that was about? I never knew why she got in such a row with me over that backwater Charon.”

Kalindinai growled. “My family came from Charon.”

“Aye,” Vulcindra nodded. “I had heard that she was a patron for a family from there. Some blood debt or some such. I understood immediately since Theln’s current apprentice is sitting right there.” She waved a hand to Janai.

“What!?” Kalindinai growled whirling to face Janai. “You took the apprenticeship!? That was for Ryelle!”

Janai leaned away from her mother’s fury. “Mother, she approached me, not the other way around.”

Kalindinai rocked her head back, hands balled into fists. “And what are you going to do with it? You’re not interested in magic!”

“I love magic,” Janai said in a defensive tone. “I don’t like uniforms and marching a bloody picket line!”

“It’s good for you!” Kalindinai snarled. “Damn, so that’s what you were doing in Canth all those summers. That’s why you surprised us in Gladshiem.”

Janai made a pained expression and rubbed the back of her head, not daring to look her mother in the eye. Daena hunched down next to her, obviously trying not to catch any of the Queen’s ire.

Kalindinai swung back to Vulcindra. “I was Theln’s apprentice two millennia ago. What does she have to do with the Kriar?”

This place seemed to be a source of never-ending amusement for Vulcindra. She grinned. “Don’t be dense, Theln is Kriar of course.”

“She is not!” Kalindinai declared. “No. She holds to our ways, taught me… No!”

Vulcindra shrugged. “I don’t understand the confusion. The woman has a bloody shrine to that Ellistan fool—you must have seen it. They must have been mates for millennia. Of course she can be a convincing elf.”

Kalindinai shook her head.

“Pardon,” Corim chimed in. “Is this the Theln Azygos. The one who lorded the Dream Merchants?”

Vulcindra nodded. “What of it?”

“The Dream Merchants?” Kalindinai said bewildered.

“Yes,” Corim said. “It’s not common knowledge, but it is part of the Protectorate briefings when you’re indoctrinated. We have to know about individuals that need to be handled with special care when encountered. She is one of them—she’s the only Kriar we know to have mastered magic.”

“Well, there you have it,” Vulcindra said. “Can I look at the girl now?”

“Why do you care?” Kalindinai demanded. The revelation that the Valharesh family’s patron mage was a Kriar had shaken the Queen to her core. Bannor felt it all through her aura. Amongst those things, embarrassment and doubt. He felt deep in the elder elf strong feelings muddied by this ‘truth’. Apparently, she had felt very close to Theln.

“I care because I am curious,” Vulcindra answered, unperturbed by Kalindinai’s tone. She fingered the gold chain around her neck. “This must be some amazing child to have messed Arabella up so bad.”

Kalindinai deflated. “Look. Only.”

Bannor would have gritted his teeth if he had any. He guessed it was better to simply acquiesce than have Vulcindra get her way in some other manner.

Hands behind her back the elder strolled up and looked down at the sleeping Sarai. Octavia, Wysteri, and Mercedes followed behind her with sour expressions on their faces. Bannor understood their demeanor better now. Vulcindra was a threat to them. Their healing abilities were paramount over nearly every creature in Eternity, but here stood a person that knew the secret ailments that were beyond their skills to fix.

“Why was she sedated?” Vulcindra asked, red eyes narrowing.

“She was overwrought from an earlier incident,” Kalindinai said.

“Not good for the baby,” Vulcindra muttered. “Though it hardly phased this little brute. She’s still wide awake.” She raised an eyebrow, pursed her lips, and took a surreptitious step further away. “No no, little one, you can’t have my magic.”

Vulcindra glanced over her shoulder at the mecha all watching her with wary eyes. She looked at Kalindinai. “This is a prime example of why I don’t like their meddling in magical affairs. It’s a deception.” She shook her head. “This body,” she gestured to Sarai. “It is a triumph of technical innovation and sophistication. It’s so good it could easily blind one to its abysmal failures as a magical vessel.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder toward Wren. “Those bodies are better because Marna has learned a little about the living essence but they are still flawed.” She turned and eyed Daena. “There—now that body—that is worthy.” She raised her chin and winked at the auburn-haired ascendant. “Want to sell it to me?”

“What?” Daena lurched back with a frown. “No.”

The dark woman shrugged. “Pity. Anyway, that’s quite some grand-child you have there Kalindinai.” She smiled.

Bannor found Vulcindra’s smile unsettling. Of course, the elder knew something she wasn’t sharing.

Vulcindra looked back to the three healers with an irritated expression. “Would you stop hovering. I’m not going to injure your patients.”

“Perhaps if you took less enjoyment in making people uncomfortable,” Wren observed.

Vulcindra moved away from Sarai and came to stand directly in front of Wren and Vera. “What I’d like to know is how you hooked up with the power of the first ones. How does some baby deserve to have that kind of strength?”

Wren stared up at her. “When was the last time you actually helped a fellow savant without compensation?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Gaea rewards those who protect family.”

“Gaea, Gaea, Gaea… are you some kind of bird? She’s just an aspect of Eternity. She has no will of her own—she can’t reward anything.”

Wren brushed a hand through her hair. “Whoa, for somebody who knows nearly everything, when you get something wrong you get it wrong in a big way, don’t you?”

Vulcindra scowled. “Perhaps I misjudged you. You’re just insane.”

Wren rubbed the back of her neck and shook her head. “Your timing could be improved too.”

The dark elder opened her mouth to speak and stopped. A blue haired figure had appeared in the infirmary doorway at her back.

If ever a creature looked like the spirit of vengeance, the Lokori female covered with cuts, lacerations and dried blood looked the part. Golden glowing eyes narrowed, she stalked into the infirmary foyer her gaze pinned to the dark elder’s back. She opened her claws with a rasp of Eternity’s energies, sparks flaring around her lithe body dressed in tattered silver metal mesh.

Vulcindra straightened up. She didn’t turn to face the creature. Her voice rose a notch from its usual deep timbre. “That—is—a—Lokori. They’re all supposed to be extinct.”

Wren crossed her legs and continued to stare at Vulcindra. “That’s two wrong. Would you like to go for three?”

Bhaal strode over to Octavia. She kept her gaze fixed on Vulcindra. She spoke in that same echoing rasp that Bannor remembered, the one that made the skin prickle. “Mother told me to ask for healing.”

The healer looked down at the Lokori’s extended claws and blanched.

“Bhaal, please sheath your claws,” Wren said.

The Lokori frowned, she looked down at the smoldering vortexes of energy whirling around her arms. She raised her chin. “Not trust that one. Though she is a child of Mother, she smells of death.”

“You’re right, Bhaal,” Wren said. “I will watch her. Please sheath your claws so Octavia can tend your wounds.”

Bhaal snorted. She flicked her hands and in a flare of white light the claws blinked out. She continued to stare at Vulcindra. “Heal me.”

A nervous Octavia with the help of Mercedes and Wysteri began to strip the Lokori out of her armor. The Lokori stood like a statue, eyes unblinking as she glared at Vulcindra. Bannor was certain that any creature less powerful than the elder savant would have melted under that gaze. He wondered why the smell of death would bother the murderous creature.

The dark elder still hadn’t turned to look. “She talks.”

Wren raised an eyebrow. “Yes. Sounds creepy doesn’t she?”

Vulcindra seemed to have developed a tick. “The Kriar said they couldn’t communicate.”

“Obviously, they got it wrong.”

“She’s staring really hard at me,” Vulcindra observed. “Are they really as dangerous as the legends say?”

“In packs, they’re unstoppable,” Wren said crossing her legs the other way. She seemed to like this game. “Bhaal there has been given special powers by Gaea, Baronian coven dreadnoughts don’t even slow her down.”

“And why is she here now?” Vulcindra asked.

“Well, since I’m in contact with Gaea, she probably sent her here as a message.”

“I see,” Vulcindra remarked. “How exciting.”

“You seem excited.”

“I am, actually,” the dark woman said with a smile. “Something new. Something dangerous. I like that.”

“That figures.”

There was a murmuring on the pallet where Sarai was sleeping. She writhed and moaned. Kalindinai stepped over and rubbed her cheek. Then laced her fingers with Sarai’s.

Wysteri came over and laid a finger across Sarai’s throat. Her hand glowed and Sarai twitched.

The third princess’ eyes fluttered open. She blinked and wet her lips. It took her a moment to focus. “Mother…???” she asked in a bleary voice rubbing at her face.

“I’m here, Mimi,” Kalindinai said patting her hand.

“W-what happened?” She asked. “H-how did I get out here?” She touched the shaladen on her wrist. “I’ve been out over a bell.”

“Mimi, you were simply over-wrought.”

She rocked her head back and seemed to remember what had been happening when she fell unconscious. She felt her right arm, obviously noticing Xersis was not there. “You took Bannor! Where is he?”

“He’s right here, Mimi. He can’t see or do anything while you’re asleep.”

Sarai made a growling sound and pushed herself up to sit. She pushed a hand through her silvery hair and rubbed her abdomen. She turned narrowed violet eyes on her mother. “You took him after that other savant, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Daughter, I did. It was fine.”

“No it wasn’t.”

“Mimi, simply because he’s inside an item doesn’t take away Bannor’s freedom to choose. The point is moot anyway. Wyyr is caught. I doubt it will come up again.”

Sarai snorted. “Can I have him back then?” She held out her hand. As she did so, she happened to glance over. Her eyes widened. “Uh, hello…”

Arms folded, Vulcindra raised an eyebrow.

Sarai looked up at her mother and silently mouthed ‘who is that?’.

“That’s our… guest… Vulcindra. She bagged Wyyr for us. Wren tells me she’s a Chakta Nola. She is apparently a consort to eternal Sroth.”

“She’s mates with the assassin eternal?” Sarai covered her mouth realizing she’d said it aloud. “Uh, no offense, ki-domma.”

“None taken,” Vulcindra said. She started to speak and stopped. She looked around, her gaze fixed on a place in the ceiling. “My but the Daergons are staring hard at this place. What did you do to them?” She pointed a finger at Kalindinai. “When we were outside their agents were following you. Now, there’s a half-dozen gates focused on this place.”

“We make the gold-ones ragi,” Bhaal growled. “Their paa is strong but their kaa is feeble.”

Vulcindra swung around to stare at the Lokori. “Ragi?” She straightened and brushed back her dark hair. “Dolem kenja duthic seeja Dreel bol-dah das Ragi?”

Bhaal sniffed and made a dismissing gesture. “Jeh. Goreth Ragi.” She flicked out a finger which flared golden, and a single shining talon of force snapped into being. Her glowing gold eyes narrowed. “Ega Ragi.”

The dark woman tilted her head. She pushed out her lip. “Interesting. I can pursue that later. Did the Daergons perchance manage to get a gate locked on inside the defenses here?”

“They’re getting people in here somehow,” Sarai put in, her gaze tracking to Bhaal. “I never saw exactly where they came from, but I can guess fairly close.”

“Show me,” Vulcindra said.

She slid off pallet to the floor. She reached out across the raised dais toward her mother. “Give me Bannor back please.”

Kalindinai sighed and held out her arm. Sarai took hold of the band and Bannor felt her will press into him. There was a moment of threads spinning and disorientation and he was again looking out of Sarai’s eyes.

<You’re not mad at me are you?> he asked privately.

<Would it do any good?> she responded.

<I suppose not.>

<I don’t have the energy to waste. Who is this woman, she seems powerful.>

<She’s dangerous, she’s as strong as an eternal.>

<Whoa.>

Vulcindra eyed Sarai. “You there, Boy. Do not synchronize her again.”

“Huh?” he said.

“You’ve already caused abnormal growth in that child. Don’t make it worse. Her body isn’t stressed for it at any rate.”

It sounded like she knew what she was talking about.

“Bhaal,” Wren said. “Can I get you to go with them?”

The Lokori looked up from examining where Octavia had finished sealing her wounds. Her gaze went to Sarai. “I go.” She reached out toward the tangled mess of silver tatters that had been her armor. With a hum and a gurgling sound the metal flowed up her arm and encased her body in a smooth unbroken sheen.

Wren slid off the pallet with a thud and Vera dropped to the floor with her, silent as usual. “Jan stay here, they might need us back here fast and you can summon the others. Dane you coming?”

The auburn-haired ascendant glanced at her mentor. “Jan, I better.”

Janai frowned. “You be careful.”

Daena gave her a hug. “I will.” She turned and moved to stand with Wren.

Corim slid to the floor and took his shaladen off his arm, forming it into a blade. He stepped to one of the Kriar Seargas who was sitting against the wall. They communicated silently for a few moments, and the gold male rose to his feet. He nodded to the other Kriar and they stood as well. Corim also spoke with the valkyries who moved to join Daena and Janai.

“Lady Arabella,” Corim said. “I know you still aren’t fully recovered. Perhaps you will dress and be ready to leave if necessary.”

The woman nodded and rolled off her pallet with a grunt. Mercedes and Wysteri assisted her toward the treatment chamber.

Kalindinai moved to stand with Wren.

Seeing everyone assembled, Sarai moved into the corridor, nodding to the valkyrie guards in the doorway.

Vulcindra followed. Bhaal stalked behind her like a shadow on silent feet. Wren and Vera came behind them.

“Vera, are you sure you want to come on this?” Wren asked in a low voice.

“I come,” the tiny woman said. “I must. The dark one is true G’Yakki, the first and eldest of our kind. She must be watched when she is in the world.”

“Oh my,” Vulcindra said, looking over her shoulder. “An admirer. I thought she had the feel of one of my children.”

“What, no denigration for her youth and ignorance?”

“No. I favor my children—even if many of them don’t accept me.” She glanced back at Vera again, red eyes calculating. “Their hearts are mine, even if their honor is not. This is Loric’s little Vera is it not?”

“It is.”

“And she’s been training you. So, it was my own teachings that made you strong. I guess I find that more palatable.”

“And why exactly again are you helping us?”

“I’m bored!” Vulcindra declared. “And much as I am loathe to admit it—I get goodie points with my lover and Koass. Those are not to be underestimated.”

Wren sighed.

They came to the broken metal wall that sealed the corridor. Sarai started to step through but Vulcindra dismissed it with a gesture. A single swing of her arm tons of metal turned molten, and in a fiery gust of hot wind disintegrated and rumbled into nothingness.

Sarai stared at her.

Vulcindra waved her forward.

<Damn,> Sarai murmured to him privately. <You weren’t exaggerating.>

<No,> he responded. <An immortal, a savant, a great lore-mage, and the greatest of the G’Yakki assassins. I don’t think she could get any more dangerous.>

They retraced their steps back up the corridor where Wyyr and Sarai fought. The stone was rippled, pocked and torn, rocky debris cluttering the floor.

Vulcindra walked with her hands behind her back. She kicked a chunk of rock out of her way. “Such a messy child.”

They reached the intersection where the two walls had prevented Sarai’s escape. The hall reeked of battle. The walls crusted with the dried remains of Sarai’s vicious conflict. Gaea had removed the bodies but not the bloodshed.

She pointed to the right. “They had to have come from there.”

The dark elder glanced to the area indicated. She dismissed the left wall of metal with a backhanded flip of her hand; the rigid surface crumpling and vanishing in a shriek of potent energies. She banished the last of Wyyr’s constructs with a flick of her finger. Behind them Bannor heard the Kriar muttering. There was no doubt Vulcindra was a scary creature, an untamed force of nature and just as whimsical.

Fingering the gold chain on her neck, Vulcindra strolled forward, crimson eyes glowing in the dim corridor. She touched some of the crusted blood on the wall and glanced back at Sarai. “You do good work.”

She moved her spread hand over the surface of the rock, fingertips brushing the irregular surface. She shifted to the right and felt around some more.

“It is—ah… here.” She made a coming gesture and a thin cylinder of rock a little thicker than a thumb crackled and dislodged from the surrounding material and hovered in the air. She stepped back and the floating core of stone settled in her palm. She studied her prize for a few moments. “Third-order one-way sub-ethereal portal,” she murmured more to herself than anyone else it seemed. “Passive stabilization with a time-space worm-distortion for spying.”

“Can you close it?” Kalindinai asked.

“I could,” Vulcindra said. She held up the cylindrical chunk and nibbled a fingernail. “The signature of the portal suggests this is not being generated by a planet or ship bound gate system. It is very well stealthed with heavy tracking countermeasures. My surmise is the backside of this portal leads back to Fabrista Homeworld.” She glanced back. “Wouldn’t it be fun if the origin is the Daergon stronghold? I mean we know this can’t be coming from where Koass and the others are fighting or they wouldn’t be spying so actively.”

“You said it was one way,” Wren said. “What good does that do us?”

“Because child,” Vulcindra tossed the cylinder to her and pushed up her sleeves. “Gates are my favorite toy.” She made a swing of her arm and a circular section of the wall sparkled. The opaque granite began to hum and vibrate, after a few instants the material turned pale and rippled. In a moment, it became like a churning surface of water and through it what looked like some form of railed platform and beyond a dimly lit chamber in which creatures moved.

The dark elder rubbed her hands together. “You may laud my brilliance now.”

“Damn, this is great,” Corim said. “But we can’t assault the Daergons with this tiny team.”

“Perhaps I misunderstood the politics of the situation,” Vulcindra said. “If this is indeed the backyard of one of the ruling councilors, isn’t all we need to do is find proof of Baronian collaboration?”

“That’s certainly part of it,” Corim said, glancing back to one of the Kriar with them. The male nodded. The other male and female with him straightened up, their dark eyes showing support for the idea.

“Good,” Vulcindra determined. She raised her hands and her white garments spun away to replaced by a black robe of shadows that looked almost identical to what Vera wore. Her skin turned black as coal and the burning red of her eyes became a faint glimmering beneath her hood.

Vulcindra’s voice became an eerie whisper that seemed to issue from every direction at once. Even inside the shaladen Bannor felt himself shudder. “I shall prevent detection,” she hissed. She gestured to Vera. “Su’Ko—dalad hara tumi.”

The little woman stiffened. She looked at Wren for a long moment then nodded. She reached into her sleeves and pulled on some gloves and pulled up her mask.

Vulcindra raised her hands and in a glare of red light, a curved sword sheath and a dagger appeared in her fingers. She tossed them to Vera who caught them. The little woman slid the sheaths through her sash and arranged them. She checked each of the blacked blades, that hummed as they were loosed in their sheaths.

“Vera?” Wren said. “You can’t fight Kriar. I can’t fight Kriar!”

The little woman’s expression turned stony. She put a hand on the blonde ascendant’s shoulder. “I go not to fight.” She tightened her fingers. “I go to kill.”

“No. I should go with you. I can be quiet.”

Vera shook her head. “We call you.” She pulled up her hood and nodded to Vulcindra.

The dark elder turned to look at Wren and raised her chin.

She made a hand sign to Vera. The tiny woman slipped close.

The dark elder did a series of gestures, her fingers leaving trails of light as it moved. The two of them grew more and more translucent as she continued. Bannor saw their threads winking out, and even their life-force grew dim. In the space of a breath they had become completely invisible even to his thread senses.

The gateway rippled once and then again, the only indication that the two had passed through.

“That woman sooo creeps me out!” Daena muttered with a shudder.

“Damn,” Sarai muttered. She looked to her Mother. “This could end it. This could be the root of the whole thing. We need to risk it, don’t we?”

Kalindinai chewed her lip, rarely being an indecisive woman. “It’s the break Koass was hoping for and we’d be idiots to pass on it.”

“Can we do it though?” Wren asked. “Even with killer queen leading the way?”

“Couldn’t you blow the place to pieces with that Starholme thing you do?” Sarai asked.

“That is so dangerous, and I promised Marna never to use that power against the Kriar.”

“But they’re rogues…”

Wren gritted her teeth. “I know that.” She looked to Bhaal. The Lokori had been silent the whole time. She was staring at the reflective surface of the gate. The illumination cast dancing reflections on the surface of her skin and armor.

“Well, regardless, I must go,” Corim said. “Seargas, I assume the same for you?”

The three Kriar nodded.

“Decide,” Bhaal murmured.

Sarai looked back to the gate. A black hand had extended from the watery surface and was making a come-here gesture with its finger…

Return to Contents

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I am the intangible shadow, the scything
horror with no name. I have lived a
thousand lifetimes and the blood of my
victims would fill a sea. Good and evil are
mere concepts. The only things that matter
in the universe are survival and satisfaction.
My satisfaction—not yours…
—Vulcindra Skybane,
Empress Ascendant, 1st Alliance

Sarai stared at the beckoning hand. This was poorly timed. She knew it. Bannor knew it. The whole group hummed with it. Even Bhaal, the unstoppable Lokori that feared nothing, looked dubious. Kalindinai gripped her hair in uncharacteristic frustration. Corim, ever the calculating man, paused for two heartbeats before thumping one of the seargas on the shoulder and leaping into the gate.

His watery distorted silhouette appeared on the other side, turned and stepped out of view. The three Kriar Seargas, two males and one female, glanced at one another and followed him into the gap.

“Damn, I’m so tired of this spit,” Wren growled. “This could end it. I’m going.” She leaped through.

Daena shrugged. To the girl, it was just another adventure. She leaped in behind her.

Kalindinai, Bhaal, and Sarai stood alone in the corridor. Vulcindra’s hand pulled back through the gate. She obviously didn’t expect them to come.

The blue-haired Lokori looked at them with a tilted head.

“Why don’t you go, Bhaal?” Kalindinai said. “It’s more war, right?”

The female’s expression remained flat. “Mother say to guard sister-to-be. I do.”

“Damn it,” Kalindinai said. “I don’t know which is more dangerous, going after them or staying here.”

Sarai stepped close to her mother. “Don’t you always say the enemy in front of you is half as deadly as the one behind you?”

The Queen brushed back her dark hair and stared at her daughter. “Yesss.”

The third princess stared at the gate. “Then let’s go.”

“You’re pregnant—this is very risky.”

“I was here and nearly got kidnapped. There’s a difference?”

Kalindinai tilted her head back and growled. “Gah.” She pointed her staff at the gate. “Go.”

Sarai turned and leaped into the shimmering icy surface of the gate.

To Bannor, seeing through Sarai’s eyes, the threads of the universe kinked around them. For an instant, a billion stars and nebulae whirled past them and vanished as they clanked down onto the metal grillwork on the far side.

Bhaal landed beside her an instant later. The two of them stepped back and watched as the queen emerged from the surface of the shimmering portal like a phantom, translucent at first, her crackling body solidifying before dropping to the metal panels in front of the pulsing Kriar travel machinery.

Breath making plumes in the icy air, Sarai glanced around the gloomy chamber lit with a faint greenish light. She wrinkled her nose at a raw caustic scent lingering in the heavy air. A rhythmic trembling, more vibration than sound, hummed through the surroundings, rising and falling like the breathing of some gigantic beast. They stood on a railed platform raised a few paces above the floor in the center of a circular area sixty paces across. Tendrils of mist swirled down the ramps to a crystalline-looking floor where strands of colored light twisted and writhed.

Rubbing her arms against the cold, Sarai glanced to her mother and Bhaal. Where were the others? She stepped to the ramp and looked up. The ceiling rose at a steep angle to a point some twenty paces overhead where a black globe protruded down into the room. Filaments of milky looking material hung from the sphere extending to points everywhere overhead, creating a shifting illumination as tiny beads of light flickered along the fibers.

Sarai summoned Xersis into blade form and padded down the ramp, gaze scanning the strange environs. For her, it was the first time being inside the constructs of the Kriar. She stepped off the metal grating onto the clear-glassy surface of the floor. The material wasn’t hard like rock, feeling more like cork or soft wood in the way her boots pressed into it.

She paused at the bottom as Bhaal and then Kalindinai came down behind her. The Lokori brushed past Sarai and leaned around the ramp, a black armored body lay face down in the space underneath, white blood pooling around the helmeted head and shoulders.

The Lokori led the way around the central spire that served as the hub of the room. Other portals that obviously looked into different locations were spaced around the cylindrical construct. A fourth of the way around Bhaal pointed to another body, this one still twitching from the lethal blow that had robbed the creature of life, but had not yet stilled its limbs.

Sarai breathed a sigh of relief as they found the rest of the group gathered together on the far side. Four more guards stationed at other points of the room all lay crumpled, these it appeared had tried to fight or escape from the positioning of their bodies.

Vulcindra stood a little back from the others, turned so she could observe the corridor that lead out of the chamber. The woman seemed to have grown since crossing into this place, her silhouette easily equal in height to burly Corim, who was frowning at something one of the Kriar seargas was showing him. Wren stood next to Vera brow furrowed, rubbing the back of her neck and looking around. Next to her, the little G’Yakki had her thumbs in her sash and her head down as though a great weight were pressing on her. The other two Kriar were also looking at a device and seemed to be conferring about something they were seeing in it.

Corim looked up as they approached. <Good, you came,> he thought through the shaladen. <That will give us a better chance.>

Bhaal flinched and frowned at him. Her claws extended with a rasp. She sniffed and turned away to study the rest of the room. Obviously, telepathy still bothered her.

Vulcindra glanced back down the hall. <Secure the bodies—then plan.> She told them in an icy thought voice. <All of them have regeneration matrixes. >

The three Kriar scattered to take care of the bodies.

<I still don’t know how you two got six Kriar without setting off an alarm,> Wren thought. She leaned down to look at Vera, but the little woman kept her head down and her face concealed by her hood.

<It’s our trade,> Vulcindra offered. It was impossible to see her expression, only a glimmering of red shone from beneath her hood. <They predicted this might happen, the defense was strong.>

<Sarai, I’m glad you came,> Corim said. <I need to ask a favor.>

Bannor felt his wife-to-be’s heart skip a beat. She sniffed. <What?>

<I know you want to hang onto Bannor. Can you loan Garadhyr to Wren? We need three separate shaladens to prevent the Kriar time powers.>

<What?> Wren said in surprise. Obviously, this was news to her. <Me and a shaladen?>

<Take the blade,> Vulcindra growled the thought. <You need the stealth.> She flicked a hand at Daena. <You’d have set off everything if she hadn’t folded your aura.>

<This will be a temporary field deputization, you need the time defense too.>

Wren glanced to Sarai. <You okay with it?>

<Bannor is enough,> she answered. She pulled Garadhyr off her wrist the band forming into a glittering blade of shimmering metal. She held the weapon out. <Garadhyr, Wren Kergatha will be your new temporary mistress.>

A greenish light flickered along the surface of the blade.

Wren swallowed. Her glowing blue eyes were wide as she accepted the weapon from Sarai.

<Kneel down,> Corim instructed.

Wren knelt on the misty floor.

<Hurry this up,> Vulcindra rumbled.

<By the Protectorate authority invested in me…> He gripped Wren’s shoulder with the arm where his shaladen was clamped.

A golden illumination flooded around the blonde ascendant and she jerked as the powerful energies of eternity licked through her in a storm of transformation.

It looked painful, and from Bannor’s memory, it was. It was an ecstasy so savage that you felt ready to be torn apart. The Kel’varan shuddered and shook as she and Eternity became one.

After long moments, she collapsed to the floor.

At the same time the three Kriar returned and indicated the guards had been secured. Sarai looked back and saw no evidence of them anywhere.

“Gaea,” Wren breathed aloud. She pushed herself back up. She looked at her hands, opening a closing them. The glow of the ascendant’s eyes had become like burning flames. <Whoa.>

Corim transformed the blade for her and put it on her wrist as an armband. <We don’t have time to train you, the defenses and the energy are probably good enough anyway.> He pulled her to her feet. He looked to Vulcindra. <I assume you’re taking point?>

The dark elder nodded, she turned and walked away from them, her body going translucent and fading from view. Vera straightened. She glanced up at Wren briefly and moved to follow.

The blonde woman started to reach out for her but stopped. Vera too faded from view as she moved into the corridor.

<How are those two going to be protected from time?> Wren said.

<Vulcindra is a chrono-master, she can protect Vera,> Corim answered. He made coming gestures and the Kriar soldiers formed up.

<She better,> Wren growled.

Daena looked around with glowing green eyes. She shook her head obviously feeling uncomfortable.

The heavy hum of the portal chamber faded behind them after only a few steps, as if some property of the passage itself dulled the sound. In here, the caustic smell gave way to a heavy oily odor and the chilling cold was replaced by a sticky humid warmth. The corridor had a hexagonal shape to it and behind grills of silvery metal, arrays of what looked like pipes and filaments ran through the walls like networks of veins in living flesh. Globes overhead cast a muted blue radiance over everything, making the reflective surfaces appear to glow.

<You okay?> Sarai asked as she and Kalindinai fell in on either side of Wren. The three of them moved in almost complete silence. Still even little sounds, the swish of cloth and the creak of armor joints sounded loud in the metallic confines.

Bhaal brought up the rear, stalking along, her gaze tracking to everything.

Wren nodded. <That—that was a lot.> She touched the band on her arm. She ran a hand through her hair and drew a long breath.

Bannor focused away from Wren and concentrated on learning more about their surroundings. Through his links to Eternity he could tell they were immeasurably closer to Gaea, Damay, and the rest of the Kergathas. They weren’t anywhere near in the physical sense. He guessed their allies were still hundreds of lifetimes away by foot or horse.

<I can feel Gaea,> he told Sarai. <It’s like Vulcindra guessed, this must be Fabrista Homeworld.>

<I’m still unclear on what we can do here,> Sarai said.

<If we find a Daergon higher-up, or some Baronians to tie the council to this,> Wren offered.

Corim raised a fist to indicate a halt, the group pausing where the corridor intersected another. The Kriar faded from view and slipped into the side passages.

Bannor kept probing around them and a disturbing nails on slate sensation raked through his entire being. Could it be? He pushed his senses again through that point, and felt that terrible rasp that made his whole spirit tremble. This could be very good or very bad.

<What if we found their genemar?> he thought to everyone.

<What?> Wren turned fiery blue eyes toward Sarai.

Corim who was monitoring the scouting turned back to them.

Kalindinai put a hand on Sarai’s shoulder. Nobody could look at Bannor, he was just a tao in the shaladen, so they could only stare at Sarai. She gripped the band.

<Is it here?> Sarai said.

<It feels like it,> he responded.

<Are you sure?> Wren said.

<As sure as I can be, stuck in a shaladen,> he answered.

<That could be that strangeness I’m feeling with my nola,> Daena said. <Something making all the falling force do weird stuff.>

The three Kriar soldiers faded into view, the one that went right, pointed off into the left passage. They turned the corner, the Kriar eying the doorways on either side of hall as they crept passed. Vulcindra and Vera shimmered into visibility as they entered from a chamber at the end.

<There’s too many up ahead to sneak past,> Vulcindra reported. <What’s this about a ‘genemar’?>

<It’s a Jyril weapon that will destroy all the living magic in Eternity at once,> Corim informed her.

The red glimmers in Vulcindra’s hood became burning orbs. <What?!> She hooked a finger in Corim’s armor and pulled him close. <You know for certain of this thing?>

<Absolutely, they almost killed a couple eternals with it.>

The dark elder let him go and folded her arms. <That explains the security. If we call in a raid, we risk them moving it to another location.>

<If I had my body,> Bannor groused. <I could tell you almost exactly where the thing is, and you could gate us to it.>

<Won’t work, it will be protected from that,> Vulcindra mused, rubbing her throat. <So, this is the big catch, eh? I could get out of probation if I pull this off.>

<We don’t have much time,> Corim said. <Those guards will miss a check-in soon.>

<Aye.>

<Can we call for advisement without alerting the Daergons?> Kalindinai asked.

<Maybe,> Corim said. <We don’t know if they’ve cracked the shaladen communication. That’s why Koass only allows communication between operations.>

<Protector Vale,> one of the Kriar spoke up. <It would not be advisable. The risk of discovery is too great. I can hop the gate, and courier the message directly to the Vatraena and Eternal Koass.> He focused his dark eyes on Vulcindra. <How long will your tap remain in place?>

The elder glanced toward the portal chamber even though it wasn’t visible from their current vantage. <I was keeping it open for our retreat. When I get out of range, it will stay two kilorevs at best.>

<Then I will hurry,> the Kriar determined. He nodded to his gold companions and raced off back down the corridor, body flickering into invisibility as he enabled the stealth ability of his armor.

<We have a lot less time than that before those guards are missed,> Sarai said. <How many enemies are in there?>

<Twenty some,> Vulcindra said. <There are elites among them. They are wearing magic Kriar armor. I must smack Koass for deliberately concealing such information from me. The Baronians are sharing magic with the Daergons?>

<Yes,> Wren answered. <Twenty isn’t too bad, I can handle the shots those weapons fire. I’m just not so good when they start time diving and swinging those damn sword things.>

<I am not concerned with being able to defeat the enemy,> Vulcindra said. <I don’t want whatever is valuable in this place to vanish while we are delayed. That’s what guards do—delay. Because this is so important, I will do you the charity of getting past this first set of guards. I will not do so again.> She focused on Corim. <Vale, you will be the anchor. I will get through to a safe spot on the other side and do a point to point fold. You and the others should be able to slip-step to my location without detection.>

Damn that woman had brass. Charity? To show such cavalier arrogance with so much at stake. It occurred to Bannor that there might not really be twenty guards ahead. They only had Vulcindra’s word for it. The fact that Vera was standing there like a lump with her head down didn’t help. He knew how much Vera cared about Wren. All Vulcindra would have to do would be to threaten Wren, and Vera would go along. Vera didn’t know about the soulbiter that Wren had planted in the dark elder.

He wished he could gauge the others. Sarai was only staring at Vulcindra, body hot and heart pounding with anger. She wanted to say something but was holding back.

It was Kalindinai whose composure cracked. <No. We will not accept further charity from you this day or any day,> Kalindinai growled. The elf Queen’s body shook with the fury she focused on Vulcindra. <We will take our chances without you. Getting us in was charity enough. If the extinction of all magic in the universe and the loss of literally countless lives are not motivation enough—be gone. Go find something else to keep you entertained. Hope you still have a universe left to be bored in.>

Vulcindra’s eyes widened. <You jest. You’ll be caught.>

<Perhaps,> the Queen said, glowing amber eyes flashing. <However, the universe will not be beholden to some mercenary trying to whore favor to get out of punishment that is obviously well deserved.>

<Foolishness. What do my motivations have to do with anything?>

Kalindinai glanced into the chamber and back down the hall. <Pragmatism has its place, but not in this. Go, we have no further time to waste on your conceit.>

<Child, you cannot tell me what to do,> Vulcindra snarled, eyes burning like coals.

<No, but Wren will back me and that’s enough,> Kalindinai continued in a cold thought-voice.

Vulcindra stared at Wren who only stared back.

Daena stepped behind Kel’Varan and folded her arms.

<It is a pity,> Corim said. <When one has such immense talent, knowledge, and skill and it is only used to benefit themselves.> He shook his head. <I wonder who you will bully and belittle when there is no one left in the universe.>

The dark elder curled her lip and focused on the two Kriar warriors. <Surely, you two can’t go along with what these babies are saying.>

The male Kriar glanced at his female companion. His night dark eyes narrowed and he gripped the weapon on his side. <Logically speaking, it is better to side with the lesser individual who demonstrates absolute dedication, than to back one of questionable ethics and dependability. Go.>

Bhaal who had moved up to stand between Vulcindra and Sarai flicked out a single claw and waved good-bye.

<Insanity,> Vulcindra scoffed. <To let semantics put so much at risk…>

<Leave,> Kalindinai repeated.

<Fine,> Vulcindra answered with a scowl. She turned. <Su’Ko—come.>

Vera stiffened. She pulled the weapons from her sash that Vulcindra had loaned her, and threw them back. The elder caught them with a sour expression. Vera cast her eyes down and put her hand in Wren’s.

Vulcindra sniffed and stalked off into the darkness and disappeared.

Kalindinai let out a breath and shook her head. <I may go down in history as the biggest fool ever.>

<Only if we fail,> Wren said, with a determined glint in her eyes. <I don’t plan on letting that happen…>

Return to Contents

Chapter Thirty

Is it courage to not fear death? People
have told me that I am brave, and I
disagree. I do what I have always done—
what I must to protect that which I cherish.
That’s not nobility, it’s selfishness. Without
the ones I love, I am nothing—so I might as
well be dead…
—Bannor Nalthane Starfist,
Prince Conjugal of Malan

The eight of them stood there in that strange hallway that looked like the glowing innards of some bizarre metallic beast, the hum of alien machinery making the stifling humid air quiver and pulse. He felt Sarai’s heart beating fast, and the perspiration running down her face, she knew they needed to move. The guards they incapacitated on the way in would miss their check-in if they hadn’t already. In fact, Bannor wasn’t certain why the alarm hadn’t been sounded immediately. The Kriar artifices were so efficient that the slightest change in a warrior’s condition could be tracked instant-to-instant. The moment Vulcindra or Vera brought down one of those guards the place should have been alerted.

Wren looked back the way they had come and toward where Vulcindra had vanished. She focused on the dark chamber and the unknown enemies lying somewhere within. She brushed back her hair. <Okay, I’ll go first, I’m the least … >

<Stop,> Bannor said. Even though he didn’t have a body, he felt a tremble go through him. <We’re in more trouble than we thought. This is a trap. The genemar is just bait. They’re just waiting until our heads are completely in the noose.>

<What?>

<The guards, we should have had the Daergons swarming on us the instant those people went down. Seargas, isn’t that so?>

Sarai turned to the two Kriar warriors.

The male Kriar narrowed his black eyes, he looked back the way they had come. He pulled a black device off his belt and examined something on it. <That is true,> he answered, punching something on the device. <I had assumed that the dark one had somehow managed to use this magic of yours to defeat the signalers. Are you implying that such was not done?>

<Was it?> Wren looked to Vera, as did everyone else.

The little G’Yakki whose head was down, stiffened as she realized the question had been directed at her. She shook her head.

<Spit.> Wren growled. <Then was Vulcindra in on it? Was she purposely leading us into this?>

<It doesn’t matter,> Bannor thought to everyone. <The bait is real. I don’t believe my senses can be fooled. Trap or not, we have to go for it.>

<If the dark one did not foil the alerts, then this is a trap,> the female Kriar offered. <They have not sprung it simply because who they want isn’t yet in their noose. We have already sent Searga Mdaeyin to invite others into the web.>

<They want Marna,> Kalindinai said. <Certainly they wouldn’t think she would come.>

<I believe they did not know the dark one existed,> the male Kriar mused, still working on his device. <Before she reverse-folded the gate nexus, I thought only the Vatraena or Tarkath Diliaysus capable of such a feat…> He paused. With a heavy sigh, he lowered the device. <It is a trap, they are scanning us.>

<Why are we still standing here then?> Sarai demanded. <Let’s get out of here. We’ve wasted too much time already!>

<No,> Bannor made the thought as forceful as he could. <I’m sorry. I know I’m nothing but a voice in a shaladen right now, but hear me out. We have a little time, telepathy is lot faster than speech—it just seems like we’ve been here a long time.> He paused an instant, organizing what he would tell them. <The Daergons are taking a risk. It’s because they are desperate. Even with their Baronian allies and the genemar, we have been steadily tearing them down—they never expected Gaea, Bhaal, or the ascendants. All of the new Shael Dal popping up—I’m certain that took them by surprise too. The genemar is the key, it is the biggest threat—we don’t want them to get so desperate they actually use it on a large scale to stop us. Without it, they have nothing to offer the Baronians. That alliance will collapse.>

<Bannor,> Sarai said. <I think all of us understand, but we can’t do it. Not with what we have here—not if they are prepared.>

<We can do it,> he insisted. <Wren might have promised not to channel Starholme against the Kriar but she didn’t promise not to avatar Gaea. She has the shaladen, so Gaea can channel through one of the other Shael Dal at their location like she did when we fought the Lokori.” He wished he could look around better to see everyone’s expressions. “If Vulcindra can do that ‘slipgate’ thing undetected, then Gaea can. The only thing we need to do is get a shaladen close enough to the genemar to be an anchor so that the rest of you can jump there. The Daergons are waiting until they have something significant in their trap… they don’t think we can get past those guards. We surprise them by jumping directly to the genemar, lock it down so they can’t run off with it, and call in a strike. All we have to do then is hold them off long enough for Koass and the others to come rescue us. Wren can’t use Starholme to attack because of her agreement—but what about defend?>

Wren’s glowing blue eyes were wide. <Bannor are you suddenly smarter without a body? That sounds like it would work.>

The male Kriar rubbed the jewel on his brow. <Indeed, there is little to refute in his reasoning. The Daergons will likely leave us be as long as we don’t approach the genemar. They will surmise we are waiting for our requested reinforcements to arrive. They will wait until they are present in order to inflict more significant casualties—perhaps by detonating this complex.>

Kalindinai’s eyes widened. <They can do that?>

<Affirmative,> the Searga answered with a nod. <If one of us were to vanish or leave from the group, I do not think it would alarm them enough to attack. They would make an effort to find our forward scout. If we pin down the genemar so they cannot get to it, they will be reticent to use a tactic like destroying the complex and its occupants because they lose their primary asset.> He looked to Sarai, since Bannor had no body or presence to look toward. <My understanding was only the dark one possessed the stealth skills to slip through to the genemar. How do you propose to accomplish that?>

Bannor paused. <Sarai, please listen and let me finish, because I know you’re not going to like this part.>

<What?> she thought, he felt a tremor go through her.

<We have Vera and we have me,> he told them.

The little G’Yakki stiffened, raising her head for the first time.

<Elaborate,> Kalindinai said with folded arms.

<Vera is the most stealthy, but she doesn’t have the time protections, and the extra stealth the shaladen provides. I am the only one who can find the genemar, so I have to go anyway. If Corim deputizes her, she can get me close to the genemar. Vera and I serve as the anchor, Wren avatars, you gate, we lock down the genemar and scream for help. The rest is fight and hope. None of us are strong enough to move that genemar, you saw how tough it was for Gaea to master it. Maybe as an avatar Wren could do it… but I think it would be risky.>

The little G’Yakki had rocked her head back. Bannor didn’t think it was fear, but something had the little woman in anguish, because she started trembling.

<I hate this plan,> Sarai snarled. He felt the tears burning her face. <Why is it always you?>

He couldn’t shrug.

Bhaal who had been silent the whole time did something surprising. She put a clawed hand on Sarai’s shoulder. “Mother protect them.”

Sarai made a growling sound and looked from Bhaal to Kalindinai as if pleading for intervention. The elf Queen wore a dark and implacable expression. Brow furrowed and lips tight, she shook her head. <I don’t like it either, but I think we must capitalize on the opportunity.> She tilted her head. <Lady Vera, I know we have never spoken, but your skills are not in doubt. What say you?>

The little G’Yakki grimaced. What the internal battle was going on in her, Bannor did not know, but it was obviously fierce. She finally drew a breath and fixed dark eyes on the queen. “I am not worthy,” she said in a tight voice. She looked up at Wren and for an instant it seemed like there were tears in her eyes. She touched the blonde ascendant’s arm. “But my—” She paused and swallowed. “My student does not yet have the skill.”

<But you can do it, yes?> Corim asked.

Vera’s lips pinched tight. She made a weak nod.

<I’m not understanding the hesitation,> Kalindinai thought with a frown. <It does not appear you are afraid to perform this task.>

Vera shook her head.

<Matradomma, it’s a matter of honor,> Wren said. <Vera was dishonored and feels that she cannot represent the G’Yakki or use their art.>

<Is that so?> the Queen said. <I have heard some stories at the dinner table from Lord Loric considering this one. You have tried to help her get back her honor, yes?>

Wren nodded.

<Matradomma,> the male Kriar said. <We are wasting…>

Kalindinai held up a hand. She stepped closer to Vera, glowing amber eyes fierce. <Do this for me,> Kalindinai said. <The G’Yakki are not unknown to me. I know a way to appease honor. Do you want it back?>

Vera’s dark eyes widened. “But…”

<I know the laws, Su’ko. The G’Yakki have had a enclave in northern Malan for millennia. The principles of the Malanian royal family must know the rituals and keep peace with the G’yaku tirigoshi. Su’ko, migi ican doma ki es nobo. Do you want your honor back or not?>

The little woman looked like she’d been pinned to a wall with knives. She swallowed. “It cannot…”

<Su’Ko, if I have the ear of tao Ghiran-sama, could I not resolve things?>

Vera’s jaw dropped. “The ancient? He’s…”

<Dead, yes,> Kalindinai said. <And I have the resources of the entire nation of Malan. Su’Ko will you do it if I promise your honor will be returned?>

Vera shut her mouth. She swallowed, glanced up at Wren, and after a moment, gave Kalindinai a nod.

<All right then,> Kalindinai said. <I so promise.>

<I still hate this plan,> Sarai thought to everyone with a growl.

Corim shook his head. <When Koass gave me the ability to do field deputizations, I never dreamed I would have to use it once, much less twice. I hope I don’t get smacked for this.> He turned to Sarai. <Arminwen, it’s in your hands—or I should say, Bannor is.>

Bannor felt another tremor go through Sarai. She looked to her mother who nodded and rubbed her shoulder. She let out a huge breath and grabbed the band clamped to her arm that was Xersis. He felt her press her will into the weapon and urge it to change. A moment of dizziness went through him as the shaladen reformed into a sword.

<Damn you,> Sarai said. <You better not do anything crazy, Bannor.> His view of the surroundings went black as she closed her eyes. Another tremor went through her. She let out a whoosh of breath. <I—I just couldn’t handle it if I lost you again.>

<Star, I promise to keep us as safe as possible,> he said. <Remember, this little lady hit Sen so hard she was turning black and blue.>

<Right,> Sarai said. She opened her eyes and focused on Vera. <Xersis,> she thought into the shaladen blade, pressing her will into the powerful weapon. <I relinquish you to Su’ko, please take care of her.>

A green glow went around the weapon. She held the blade out hilt first to the little G’Yakki.

Vera stared up at Sarai, dark eyes wide as she stared at the weapon. She glanced to Corim, to Wren, and then to Kalindinai.

She reached out and wrapped her fingers around the hilt, and gently eased the weapon away from her.

For Bannor, the world went black, no longer having eyes with which to see, or ears to hear. Simply being in contact with a body obviously was not sufficient to allow him to perceive. He guessed they must also be a recognized Shael Dal.

How much time passed he didn’t know. Being returned to the empty void was an unhappy reminder of the state in which he now lived, barely able to even interact with the world.

The humid misty hallway flared into view. Vera was staring at the metal grillwork of the floor, her small olive-colored hands splayed over the slats and the hilt and blade of the shaladen. He felt her heart beating fast and her breath coming in gasps. After a few instants he experienced a hot rush of heat in her face as she jerked herself straight, flustered at her lack of composure and show of weakness. Thoughts pinged through her mind. She now clearly heard the mental voices of the other Shael Dal even though they weren’t speaking to her. Everything in the corridor now had a sharper focus and her body felt so light.

Letting out a breath, she tried to push to her feet but her knees buckled before she managed a third of the motion. Wren and Corim caught her shoulders.

<Give yourself a few moments to adjust,> Bannor advised.

He felt shock, dismay, and embarrassment shriek through her. <Lord Starfist?!>

<You don’t have to be formal with me, Bannor is fine,> he told her. <I’m in the sword. That means I’m in you. Sorry, I forgot to mention that part.>

<Aie.> She responded. He felt the embarrassment work its way through her.

<You don’t need to worry, I won’t look at anything private, I promise. Okay?>

She blinked. She was looking up at Wren, at the glowing blue of her eyes. Bannor noticed the way the G’Yakki lady focused on her face.

<You okay?> Wren asked.

Vera nodded.

Wren and Corim helped her to stand.

She stood there in the corridor on shaking legs that felt entirely new. Her whole body felt changed and horribly out of sync. Bannor experienced a jolt of discomfort as she realized her balance was different. She hadn’t gained or lost more than a quarter stone of weight in more than a century. She flexed her knees experimentally. This was bad—she didn’t have time to learn to readjust, they wanted her help now.

<Vera?> Wren asked.

“I—” Vera stopped. <I—> she corrected. The telepathy felt so natural—as if she had been doing it her whole life. <I am fine.>

<Vera, if you let me,> he told her. <I think I can help. I can feel the threads of your nola, they are different from a regular savant, but I can tell what you need.>

A chilly sense of disquiet went through her. It was obvious that this woman lived a painfully private existence. For someone to know the tiniest detail was uncomfortable. <Truly?>

<If you’ll allow,> he said.

She looked around at the others all staring at her with expectant expressions. They had already wasted a significant amount of time. <Go—go ahead.>

Bannor focused the garmtur down into the G’Yakki woman. His first task was to make tao and body get along better, then get her nola and the shaladen to mesh. Where born savants flourished in stronger bodies, the disciplined G’Yakki tao gained its strength from knowing each and every iota of the body it inhabited, being able to focus all of its energy down to a needle’s point if need be. Changing the body meant relearning its limits.

When he avatared Gaea, the ancient G’Yakki masters had been in him, they used disciplines in order to learn the body quickly and make the most of it. Those principles were simply patterns of thought, and patterns were his strength. He shared that knowledge with her, felt her draw a breath of realization and sensed her push into her center, mastering the changes in her body. He busied himself while she focused on her balance, bringing the shaladen into synchronous with her tao, the garmtur, and her body.

The threads of eternity flared in her sight, colored lines of connected relation and energy, emotion, and thought.

<Aie,> she murmured. He felt her body tingling. She looked down at her hands that now had a bright sheen of silvery light flickering across the surfaces.

He sensed Vera settle, the perfect harmony of her body gradually being restored. <How do I change this?> she asked him privately, looking at the sword.

<Look into its pattern,> he answered. <You can see it now, you think that symbol and push your will into it, telling it what you want.>

It took the G’Yakki woman only a handful of heartbeats to have the sword shaped into a band on her wrist.

<Whoa,> Corim said. <That’s very good, Lady Vera.>

She bowed to him.

Vera turned to Kalindinai. She didn’t say anything but simply looked into the Queen’s glowing amber eyes. The elf lady nodded in recognition.

Last, Vera turned to Wren and gave her a hug.

<Whoof!> Wren let out. She rubbed the little woman’s back. <Please be careful.>

It seemed to take a long time before Vera let go. She swallowed and faced Sarai. She held out both her hands.

Sarai pursed her lips, violet eyes big in her slender face. She looked pale, and her silvery hair hung down across her brow. The thought of him leaving terrified her now. He hated that. She took Vera’s hands after a moment and squeezed her fingers.

<I will bring him back,> Vera told her in a certain tone.

Bannor felt the little woman’s body grow hot as she focused, practicing a ritual performed hundreds, if not thousands of times. She pushed her hood down, and flipped out her hair and re-knotted it. Reaching into her sleeves she pulled out heavy spiked gloves, slipped them on and strapped them down. Her boots she cinched up tight. From her sash and hidden pockets, she slid out curved pieces of blacked metal that were assembled and strapped to her shins. Straightening, she pulled a mask up to cover her nose and face, then pulled her hood into place.

With a slow pivot she stared into the Queen’s amber eyes. She pressed spiked knuckles into the palm of her free hand and bowed.

The Queen bowed back.

She raised a fist to Wren. The blonde ascendant stared at her with wide eyes. It was obvious to Bannor that Wren had never seen Vera braced like this. In fact, nobody had. This was a G’Yakki battle master, able to go blow for blow with an elder Baronian war witch—now with the powers of a shaladen and a savant of reality. Wren gripped Vera’s fist and bowed.

<I go,> Vera said in a calm voice. She turned to face the room.

She stepped forward and focused, allowing her tao to feel and harmonize with the environment and drifting forward. A hazy translucent glaze seemed to surround the G’Yakki’s body as she hurried into the chamber on silent feet.

The ebb and surge of the strange vibrations grew stronger as they moved into the flickering illumination. The area looked to be some kind energy manufacturing artifice. Bannor didn’t have anything to base his surmise upon except that a large spherical device at the center of the chamber appeared to be the origin of a great deal of power that flowed upward through huge crystalline cylinders connected to the ceiling and walls. It gave the device the appearance of some gigantic alien spider with glowing legs. Dozens of black columns rose from floor to ceiling, their surfaces bristling bizarre artifices, tubes, and glowing jewels.

Bannor focused on finding enemies. It didn’t take long as he found voids where the threads of the universe appeared cut in half by something occluding his view of them.

Vera seemed aware of them and stayed well clear. As she grew close she stepped with more care, her feet placed with exacting care, hands and body swaying as she seemed to slip between folds of the ether itself.

This she did all with the use of her own native strength, somehow able to focus all of her energies inward and hide her presence. Added to the concealment provided by the shaladen, it was clear that neither Kriar eyes or artifices detected Vera as she slipped past the first two observers poised in the niches in the columns.

Mist swirled around the G’Yakki as she crept down a ramp into a lower portion of the chamber. Black hemispheres crackling with energy lined the walls. Metal grills flexed underfoot but made no sound. More enemies waited in the confined space—Bannor counted nine. Three above, and two poised against three of four walls. A single closed portal led out of the space in the direction where he sensed the genemar.

How would she get through that?

Vera slipped into a niche that guarded her from direct observation by the nine stealthed guards lying in wait. She relaxed her concentration. <Lord Starfist,> she asked. <Does the genemar lie through that door?>

<I think so,> he answered. <It’s in that direction.>

He sensed her frowning. <Normally, I would await an opportunity, but we are pressed for time. I am unsure to handle so many. They are so experienced and well armed.>

<First, see if one of them knows how to open the door,> Bannor advised. <Focus on the shaladen and ask it to probe for the knowledge.>

Vera contained her surprise and did as he suggested, letting the powerful mind bending power of the eternal weapon scan the minds of the guards to locate a way to open the door.

<They each have a different pass method,> Vera thought.

<Guess we shouldn’t have expected it to be that easy.>

<Hai,> she responded. She opened and closed her fists, mind working with intensity. <They have very strong wills, but perhaps with the shaladen…>

She glanced out of her cover, gaze fixing on the hidden figure closest the door. Vera drew a long deep breath, pressing the tips of her fingers together and bringing them to her forehead.

Bannor felt her mustering energy and focusing it on the guarding Kriar. The figure didn’t do anything at first, but after a few moments began to fidget and twitch. A few moments more the individual stepped from their hiding spot, legs and arms moving with rough, jerky movements.

He felt perspiration trickle down the G’Yakki’s face. He knew from trying to control Quasar how strong the minds of the Kriar could be, that she could do it at all even with the help of the shaladen was amazing. Until picking up the weapon of Eternity, she had no telepathic ability. How did the G’Yakki do that?

The figure turned to the door and reached toward it. Unfortunately another guard intercepted, grabbing the Kriar’s wrist.

Bannor felt tension going through the other figures in the area. They didn’t have time for this. <I got him,> he told the struggling Vera. He pushed into the garmtur and snatched up the threads of the interfering Kriar and yanked.

The defender let out a yell, a sound clearly heard through his helmet. He staggered back from the one Vera was controlling and fell over writhing and twisting.

This sudden unexpected outburst had the other Kriar warriors moving. Just to confuse matters, Bannor grabbed the threads of one of the defenders above and yanked down.

With a yelp and a cry, the armored figure slammed down among his compatriots, causing a flurry of confusion as weapons were whipped from holsters and plasma blades sprung into existence.

Vera never broke concentration, keeping the one Kriar engaged with the task of opening the door. By the time the others noticed what was happening, the door was hissing aside and Vera was hurtling forward.

The little G’Yakki twisted in the air, shooting between two Kriar and into the gap as one of the Daergon soldiers noticed the door was opening and jumped to stop it.

As Vera arced through the opening she twisted, caught hold of a wall support and swung into it, catching her weight against the surface and balancing so that her feet did not touch the floor of the passage.

Behind them, the door ground closed with a boom. Vera glanced back.

<That was close,> he murmured in her mind.

<Hai,> she agreed. <Thank you for the assistance in distracting the others.>

<It’s what I’m here for,> he answered.

<The floor and corridor are trapped,> Vera determined, gazing up the metallic passage with its grillwork floor and walls. One hand gripping the support she leaned out, gazing at the metallic confines, striations of metal, crystal, and other materials running down either wall. She glanced up, saw a down-hanging projection, leaped up to it and grabbed hold and hung, surveying the area. <It runs the entire length down to where it turns. I do not believe G’Yakki stealth or the shaladen cloaking can bypass this without detection. The webs of energy do not bend or fluctuate.>

Bannor studied the hall along with her, dipping into the senses of the garmtur. <Magic,> he murmured. <Baronian magic. I don’t like that.>

<Hai.>

He considered for a moment. <Do you think the shaladen by itself would be detected?>

She narrowed her eyes. <No, these detections are looking for something living.>

<Wouldn’t that allow something like the mecha to pass through?>

<Hai, but there are other triggers that probably allow for that as well.>

<Well, here’s my thought,> Bannor said. <Could you throw me into the clear at the far end?>

<Hai. What would that accomplish?>

<Reverse summoning. You are a Shael Dal now bound to Xersis, you can summon the blade from anywhere. Shael Dal can summon one another, so it’s a stretch, but I think I can pull you to me.>

She switched to hang from the other hand, then glanced back at the door. <I have no better idea.> She focused on the shaladen and pressed her will into it the way he had taught her. The weapon formed into a flat circular ring looped around her arm. She then swung hand over hand to another projection closer to the sidewall and braced her feet against the surface.

It was a long throw, at least twenty paces in tight confines.

She slid the ring down to her fingers and adjusted her grip. Bannor took that moment to memorize her every detail with the garmtur, taking hold of her threads so that he could feel her even when she wasn’t touching the weapon.

The little G’Yakki coiled up and let fly. For him, his ability to see anything went dark as he left contact with her skin.

He counted to ten, and hoped to Gaea that he was where he needed to be and that this would work. He visualized her pattern and impressed it into the void around him. When he first woke up in this state, he didn’t know what the emptiness was… now he did. He was a shaladen wielder, still linked to the weapon, only now he was on the inside.

Bannor pushed his will outward, desiring, needing, Vera to come to the weapon.

After a few instants with no response he detected a resistance, something hindering his efforts. He exerted more of the garmtur on the space around him, urging—demanding the weapon to comply.

A golden sheen flickered through the emptiness surrounding him.

Had it worked? Had it failed? He had no concept of time. Should he keep trying?

Vision returned. Vera was looking at a new segment of corridor. He sensed her breathing fast, and her heart racing. <Aie,> she murmured to him. <I thought I had not thrown accurately.> She looked back down the passage to the door.

The area where the G’Yakki now stood looked completely different from the trapped tunnel through which they arrived. The hall had a hexagonal shape, with segments demarked every few paces by wide silver metal seams. The bluish-gray walls had a smooth glossy appearance, like polished marble, especially in the way veins of lighter colored material laced the shiny surface.

Vera shifted her boots on the smooth surface, making sure of her footing. She transformed the shaladen into a short blacked blade with a long hilt and attached cord which she flipped around behind her and over her left shoulder.

Keeping an eye to the corridor behind her she padded forward, the air rapidly going from muggy hot to arid cold. Ahead, Bannor felt his impressions of the genemar growing stronger. The hum of the power artifice faded behind them to be replaced by a low chugging sound that remained constant. The walls themselves vibrated near the places where the segments were joined, giving the impression that they were somehow inside of something moving.

The passage ended into another, and Vera edged up to the intersection glancing down the left branch. Kriar dressed in gray armor, stood near an entry a short distance down. They didn’t seem to be on alert, though Bannor knew the calm demeanor of these creatures—it took a lot of tension for it to show on their faces.

<The genemar is up the right passage,> he told Vera.

<Good,> the G’Yakki responded. She skittered forward down the right branch. As she hurried toward the genemar he felt its pulse growing stronger—that surreal hum making the air seem to grow thick.

Vera slowed as the passage ended in a massive door. Four Daergon Kriar soldiers wearing heavy armor stood guarding the portal.

Bannor didn’t think they’d be pulling the same trick again.

<How close you think genemar thing is?> Vera asked him.

<Really close,> he answered.

<Behind that door?> she asked.

<Not right behind it, no,> he told her. <A short ways maybe.> He paused, extending his senses further. The swirl of life threads existed just beyond the portal as well. Guards were stationed on the other side. It provided further evidence that the genemar must be close. <Even if you could take out the guards, we’d never get that door open in time.>

He felt Vera frown. Her gaze looked up at smooth walls and back down the passage the way they came in. <This place is isolated.>

<Yes,> he agreed. They needed to get that door open. Unfortunately, it was like the previous one. It needed one of the guards to open it. That control trick might be detected if it was used again.

<Not much time,> Vera murmured.

Time for another gamble. They needed the guards to open the door, what they needed was the proper incentive. <Vera, you trust me?>

<Hai.>

<Okay, this is going to feel weird, I haven’t pushed much but now I need to, and I need your body…>

He felt her quiver. She drew a breath and he felt her relax. He didn’t know this lady well, but she was a warrior in every sense of the word. He eased the garmtur into her nola, strengthening, reinforcing raising the level of joining until her eyes could see all the threads that he sensed.

Vera made a noise, something like a gulp or a swallow, and her heart speeded.

<Do you see the guards on the other side of the door?> he asked.

<Aie, Lord Starfist, I do not know what I am seeing. They are just lines to me.>

<The dark gray patterns, that’s the metal of the wall, the bright blues and greens are the Kriar. The dimmer ones are the two guards on the other side of the door.>

<Hai. How does this help us?>

<I’m going to show you,> he told her. <Now, I want you to be very gentle. Reach toward the dim threads, want to touch them—grip them.>

<Reach?> She extended a hand.

<As you do it, push into the pattern of the garmtur—into me—and want it.>

Vera had tremendous focus, she did not question or waver, but did as directed.

<I don’t feel it yet, Vera,> he said. <Come into me, into the garmtur. Let the nola be a part of you, let that pattern be your own.>

He felt her focus on the shaladen, drilling into its depths and finding him. Bannor reached out and joined spiritual hands with her, letting his nola flow through her being, letting the pattern of his tao intertwine with hers.

<I see,> she thought, wonder now filling her.

<Now, this is not going to be pleasant—for them,> he thought.

<What are you planning?> Vera glanced back the way they had come, obviously, she like him was feeling the press of time, even at the speed of telepathy.

<To make them want to open that door,> he responded. <Take hold of those two Kriar on the far side.>

<Can I do that?>

<Oh yes,> he said. <With the help of the shaladen, a lot more than that actually. Now, take hold—gently.>

With the garmtur all twined through her nola, with his assistance she tentatively found and took hold of their threads.

<Now,> he urged. <You have to be easy… we don’t want their threads to break. We also don’t want backlash, these Kriar are strong. It would take too long for you to just get hold of the inanimate threads. Now, all I want is a little tug toward you. Not hard—easy.>

She reached out a hand, narrowing her eyes. She made a coming gesture with one-finger, little more than a twitch really. However, she was both a garmtur and a G’Yakki, synchronized with a shaladen and the power of eternity. Even that little twitch translated to a lot of power.

The guards in front of the door jerked as something slammed against it from the other side with muted clang.

<Now, the other guard,> he said.

She reached out her other hand and twitched another finger. Another thud vibrated the door.

The Kriar turned to look.

<A little push, then pull again…>

Vera complied.

Wham.

<The other guy,> he urged.

Wham.

<Now, pick up the rhythm…>

Wham. Wham! Wham…

To himself, Bannor winced. That had to be hurting, but these thugs deserved it.

The sound from the other side of the door didn’t carry, but the frantic howls on the comms were becoming audible. He didn’t need to speak Kriar to recognize the cursing of the two Kriar acting like drum mallets against that armored surface.

<Ease up, you don’t want them to go unconscious, you want them screaming their guts out and desperate.>

<Hai,> Vera acknowledged.

How ruthless were the Daergons? Would they let two of their own get turned to jelly against that door?

The agitation of the guards continued to rise. They had looked back down the hall to their position multiple times, and had pulled out devices. The hesitation to open the door had increased the volume and desperation of the two guards being pummeled inside.

He felt perspiration beginning to dampen Vera’s forehead, her heart was humming as she kept up the pressure, varying the way she manipulated their hapless decoys. Fortunately, neither Kriar had been able to focus enough to teleport away… or possibly transport was sealed off beyond the door which was equally as likely.

Finally, the screams for assistance seemed to shake the lead guard enough to disobey orders. He directed two of the four to cover the hall and began to work the door lock mechanism.

<Here we go,> Bannor said.

<Hai!> Vera responded.

At this point, he didn’t distract Vera further, but let the woman focus on what she obviously knew so well, stealth and tactics.

When activated, the heavy valve slid up into the ceiling. As a crack opened in the metal the clanging and yells grew loud. While he had come up with the strategy, it appeared the Vera had plans of her own. She made a twisting motion and sparks flared off the floor surface as one of the decoys splayed against the floor. With yank the hapless enemy launched through the growing gap beneath the door, knocking aside the guards opening the door and slamming the left watcher to the floor.

Another yank sent the other decoy against the remaining watcher.

At the same time Vera launched forward even as the alert Kriar must have realized what must be happening.

As an assist, Bannor grabbed the threads of the nearest guard and slammed him down across the threshold as the little G’Yakki dived through the gap.

Vera flipped up to her feet as she slid underneath, grabbed the threads of the door block and shoved him outside, then grabbed the door with the garmtur and slammed it down with a crash. In a single swift move she transformed the shaladen into a huge mattock, and swung it at the door side, concentrating the shaladen’s power and that of the garmtur.

The nearly impervious material crumpled under an impact that shook the whole corridor, bending and deforming the door and the track that allowed it to be raised.

Panting, Vera leaned on the weapon long enough to catch her breath. She transformed the weapon back to a blade and sprinted down the passage toward the feeling of the genemar. In this section, the metal had a reddish tint, the pathway itself being uniform, roughly twice as wide as it was tall. Long lines of blue crystal lined the walls spaced a few hand-widths apart. The limited illumination in the area grew and faded, and the every surface vibrated with the reality-bending power of the Jyril weapon hidden somewhere close.

The corridor turned and after a short distance, sections of the wall became long crystalline windows looking into a chamber lit with a greenish pulsing light.

<That’s it!> Bannor declared. <Damn, watch the guards!>

The Daergons had taken no chances with the genemar and four more warriors in armor were guarding the door. These apparently alerted by the ruckus caused by their break in.

Vera started to rush forward.

<No, wait!> he yelled in her mind.

She slid to a stop after only a few steps.

<Use the garmtur—see—look what’s around them.>

Vera concentrated, as she did so, the threads of eternity sparkled in her vision, showing layers of energy and force—and a tight network of lines enclosing the warriors and the doorway.

<A barrier,> Vera said.

<Let Wren and the others deal with them,> he determined. <We’re close enough. That lock you put on the door won’t hold them for more than a breath.>

Vera ducked back around the corner, and transformed the shaladen into a staff and pressed her shoulders against the wall and took the weapon in both hands.

She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to the metal. <Wren,> she drove the thought through the shaladen. <We are here but you must hurry.>

<—era? …o …aint,> Wren’s thought voice broke up and almost undetectable.

<They’re blocking us,> he told her.

<Hai, I knew they would be,> she drew a breath, focusing herself. <Wren, YOU MUST COME—NOW!>

If Bannor had a head, he’d be rattling it. He didn’t have a body and that stung. He got only an instant to wonder if Wren had heard because four Daergon soldiers came tearing down the hallway toward them.

Without an instant’s hesitation, Vera squared off, changed the shaladen again and charged.

Bannor couldn’t believe it. Who in their right mind went right into the teeth of such creatures?

With the speed at which both sides were moving the gap closed in the blink of an eye. Using the slick marble-like floor to her advantage, Vera whipped into a slide.

Having no way to stop at such speed on the slippery surface, the Daergon did the only logical thing to avoid getting tripped or tangled up—he jumped.

That was the opening the G’Yakki wanted and she ripped the shaladen down the length of his body and hacked through one of his boots in gush of white gore. Rolling and spinning, she flicked her blade around sending a splash of blood into the faces of her other opponents. Burning blades of plasma and weapon blasts that would have hit—missed by hairs instead.

Vera patterned between the three warriors, launching up and grabbing the back of one male’s helmet and yanking him sideways into the tangle, his plasma blade coming in at his comrades as he tried to catch his balance, forcing them to evade and defend.

Spurred by the shaladen, the little woman moved with incredible speed, driving home metal-crushing kicks and blows that smashed her opponents into one another and kept them from acting in unison.

Vera leaped aside as shots from came from further down the hall as more opponents rushed to join the fray. A dive and shove thrust two armored bodies into the path of the incoming attacks—making the Kriar scream demurrals at their allies.

One Daergon missed a block and the shaladen plunged through his faceplate.

<Daughter I am ready,> Gaea’s thought voice echoed inside of them.

Vera stepped inside the reach of a blast weapon aimed at her, pulling the Kriar close and slamming a shaladen braced arm against the side of his helmet. <Mother,> she responded, swinging the Kriar into the path of an oncoming plasma blade that hit the resilient metal in a rasp and a flare of sparks. She flipped around the warrior and sent a crushing heel kick into the face-plate of the armored attacker driving him against the wall. <I am—> She swayed out of the path of the plasma blade aimed to impale her. <—somewhat—> She grabbed the wrist of her attacker, pulling him in close and ripping the shaladen across his ribs in a shriek of tearing metal. <—busy!>

<Daughter, there isn’t much time,> Gaea advised.

<I—> the G’Yakki woman leaped over an attempt to tackle her, slashing the shaladen across the back of the warrior’s legs. <—am—> She swayed around a plasma blade slash aimed to part her skull down the middle. She pivoted, ramming the shaladen into the Kriar’s ear and then kicking him away. <—aware!>

With two of his compatriots dead and three clutching serious wounds, Bannor understood the last Kriar’s reticence to come to grips with this surprisingly tough opponent.

He aimed his blast weapon at her from several steps back. She used the garmtur, grabbing the threads of the enemy’s arm and yanking it aside.

Bannor wondered why it never occurred to him to use it that way?

Shaladen poised in front of her Vera closed the gap between them, yanking his aim left and right, sending shots wide and finally getting the weapon away from him.

By the time the Kriar decided to use his plasma weapon Vera already had too much inertia built up for him to do anything more than defend himself.

Reticent the warrior might be, but not unskilled. Without the lethal maze of opponents to hinder and tangle, Vera’s advantage of flexibility and unpredictable close-quarters mêlée could not come into play.

Planted and ready, the Kriar’s defenses might as well have been a wall. It was obvious after the first dozen quickly traded strokes he was simply playing for time and had no intention of attacking. The shaladen and plasma sword flashed and flared, clashing in a near blinding array of light.

They didn’t have time for this.

He was about to risk breaking Vera’s concentration to make a suggestion, when the Daergon warrior let out a shriek, a blade erupting through the top of his skull.

Vera stepped back as the quivering armored warrior dropped to the floor with a clang and lay on the floor twitching.

Vulcindra shimmered into view wiping her blade. She tossed back a few strands of shadowy hair and stared at Vera with crimson eyes. <Let’s stop wasting time, shall we?>

Return to Contents

Chapter Thirty-One

It had been so long since I had used a
sword to uphold the honor of my G’Yakki
heritage. It is my curse that G’yaku
Vulcindra interfered before I could complete
my mission and accept my honor back…
—Takara Vera no Hoshihana,
Former Hoshin G’yaku Master

Vera stared at Vulcindra. The dark elder stared back, crimson eyes burning in the gloomy corridor, shadowy hair twitching in the hush of air coming through slits in the corridor walls. Bannor felt little Vera tremble, and by far the most powerful emotion he had seen the detached woman ever express welled up in her. It burned; a horrible sense of despair and naked hatred. He didn’t understand why Vera was suddenly so angry… robbed?

The little G’Yakki jerked her gaze away from Vulcindra, transforming the shaladen back into a staff and spinning it to a butt down position on the floor in front of her. She gripped it with both hands, knuckles going white around the haft.

<Mother,> she sent the thought to Gaea. <I am prepared.>

<Acknowledged,> Gaea responded.

Vera flinched as a cold hand gripped her shoulder. “You don’t think that elf witch could return your honor do you?”

Vera’s throat ached. She swallowed hard. “I not find out now—will I?” It was a hard voice, one that Bannor never imagined coming out of this otherwise meek lady.

“Fah, a trivial intervention,” Vulcindra crooned. “She won’t be concerned with it.”

Vera gritted her teeth, hands shuddering with a desire for violence. “I am.”

Bannor understood now. Vulcindra interfered on purpose, for no other reason than to spite Vera for helping Kalindinai. The G’Yakki sense of honor was so strict that allowing interference in the completion of a mission voided the contract. He felt sorry for Vera and felt only contempt for Vulcindra’s deliberate intrusion into something so important to the woman.

<Attempt to summon me now,> Gaea requested.

The little G’Yakki glanced both ways down the hall and pressed her forehead to the staff, and pushed her will into the shaladen, urging the weapon to bring Garadhyr to their location.

Bannor felt a tug as the two shaladens joined their powers briefly across space. An instant later a shimmering opened in the air near them, and the two Kriar Seargas jumped out, followed by Corim, Daena, Kalindinai, Sarai, and Bhaal. Wren came through last, her skin glowing green, blonde hair dark with the All-mother’s power.

Kalindinai nodded to Vera. “Excellently done, Vera,” the Queen lauded. The little woman looked away. Bannor didn’t see Kalindinai look around but what she said made it clear. “What are you doing here?” Kalindinai asked.

“I go where I want, Child,” Vulcindra answered in that heavy cold voice.

“If that wont is to tread on Su’Ko’s honor, I take issue with that,” Gaea’s deep echo resonated in the hall.

Vera looked around to see Gaea frowning at Vulcindra. In Wren’s powerful physique, eyes smoldering with Eternity’s energy, dark hair writhing in the corona of her power, the goddess looked truly daunting.

“Take issue as you like, I—uck!”

Vulcindra’s words were cut in mid-sentence as all of her magical defenses shredded away in a rainbow of color as Gaea stepped forward and shoved a green-skinned hand against her throat.

Gaea pulled the dark elder close. Nose to nose with the powerful savant, her words made the walls tremble. “You are lucky I don’t have the time to deal with you right now. Misstep again and I will sever you from Eternity like a bad piece of meat!” She shoved the woman back a few steps. She turned and stepped over to Vera, brushed aside her hood and ran gentle fingers through her hair. The little G’Yakki looked up at Gaea, both the image of her friend and her goddess. She nodded. Gaea sighed, gave Vera’s shoulder a squeeze and turned toward where the genemar was being kept. “Come children, I feel them mobilizing.”

Vera glanced at Vulcindra who was leaning against the wall gasping for breath. The elder didn’t believe Gaea existed. From her wide crimson eyes and slack jaw, she’d be revising that opinion.

Sarai came to walk next to Vera. <Vera are you and Bannor okay?>

Vera only nodded.

<We’re fine, Star,> he answered. <It was tough but we managed to get through. Are you all right?>

<Better now that I can see you.>

Gaea turned the corner into the next hall with no care for stealth, and the Kriar guards, probably already alerted by the ruckus in the hall were waiting with weapons out.

The all mother looked through the crystalline windows into the space beyond. She raised a hand toward the guards as a hail of energy shrieked out from their weapons and hammered against a wall of threads swirling in front of her.

<Keep an eye to the rear,> Gaea advised. <Reinforcements are on the way. They haven’t dropped the teleport barrier, but that doesn’t mean they won’t.> The green mother looked back to Daena and made a coming gesture and pointed to the enemies blasting away.

The auburn-haired ascendant stepped up, her green eyes blazing and thrust both hands forward. The barrier around the Daergon guards lit up, the surface looking much like a soap bubble caught in the wind, the surface flexing inward as Daena threw her power against it.

<Damn, can’t break through,> Daena growled.

<They are such busy little inventors,> Gaea noted.

<It is our strength,> the male Searga remarked with a sour expression, his weapon aimed at their foe. The triangular jewel on his forehead glinted as he aimed at the outer edge of the barrier and fired. The plasma bolt deflected and struck the ceiling. <It is a strength shared by the best and worst of our kind.>

Daena looked up at the attacks continuing to burst a short ways away. <Mother, are you okay?>

Gaea glanced up at the conflagration only a few finger lengths from her hand. <This?> She shrugged. <With those small weapons it would take a bell to tire me. We need to be long absent before that.>

<Daena,> Bannor said. <We can break that, we just have to time it.>

<Just tell me when, Brother,> Daena growled, brushing back her hair, and keeping her hands out, fingers opening and closing.

The Kriar inside the barrier were yelling on the comm-links. They knew they were in danger. They couldn’t hit Gaea or the people her power defended, and they already knew the strength of the allies of eternity.

<Vera,> Bannor thought. <We must find the threads of their barrier and bend them. We must be careful, because there is great power running through those threads and the backlash could—hurt—a lot.>

<Hai,> she answered.

<Push into the thread sight, we’re going to go deeper than normal this time.>

Vera relaxed her will and let him guide her, pushing down in the deep strands of the eternity’s primal threads. As he guessed, the shield was an even more powerful version of what had been employed to block the garmtur and Bhaal’s claws. The threads of the shield were packed so tightly he couldn’t reach through to get hold of anything on the inside. He had perverted the external rules of the power that fed the portable shields they had used in Kul’Amaron, giving Bhaal an opening at the soft meat inside the hard nut of their artifice magic.

It didn’t seem possible to bend the threads or reach through them. It was easy enough to find the artifice creating the barrier and locate the redundant strings of energy feeding it. What he didn’t like were the artifices arrayed around it, and the nasty feeling they gave him. Chaotic balls of unstable threads wrapped in fragile wrappers that could release huge amounts of power suddenly; a trap—and a nasty one.

<If I disable the barrier,> he said to everyone. <There are artifices set all along the corridor ceiling to explode.> These crystal windows are tied to it as well, if they are broken or disturbed, the trap goes off.

<Damn,> Kalindinai snarled. <We don’t have time for this.>

<I believe that was the idea,> Vulcindra offered in a dry tone.

Gaea looked back to the elder. <Child, I recommend not making me any more cross with you than I already am.>

<Bannor,> Kalindinai said, leaning down and putting a hand on Vera’s shoulder. She looked into the G’Yakki’s eyes because it was the closest thing to looking at him. <Will the trap just affect this hall or the whole complex?>

He paused. <Only the hall—I think.>

<Bannor, you need to be sure,> she said.

He focused out through Vera’s senses, the complex interweaving of metal, unnatural composites, and energy. Maybe if he knew more about what he was looking at, but not like this. <Matradomma, I can’t be sure—I’m just a tao in a hunk of metal right now. I can see and sense through Vera, but there’s so many threads…>

<Tell me your thoughts, Daughter,> Gaea directed. She looked back to the corner they had come around and swung a hand. A shimmering blue barrier appeared across the hall entrance. An instant later something metallic slammed into it and exploded, making the floor and walls shake.

<The Daergons don’t want their precious artifact destroyed. They just want to kill us. We don’t have to stop the explosion. We only have to survive the blast.>

<The reasoning is correct in theory,> the male Kriar said. <However, there is a barrier on the other side of those windows. It could easily withstand a shock that would reduce us to particles, even were we braced with strong shielding. Regardless of how powerful some of you are, a body of flesh cannot channel the same amount of energy that hardened installation emitters can.>

Gaea growled, and the floor beneath their feet rumbled. <This is extremely annoying.> Another impact rattled the shield that Gaea erected to block the Daergon reinforcements. <It will take some time for Koass to fight his way in here. If we anchor a gate for Nethra, the Daergons may panic and destroy the installation and us with it.>

A gate. Nothing could hurt a gate because it was immaterial; it was a gap in space joining different locations.

<Mother, how many gates can you make?> he asked. <If they don’t cover much distance?>

<Three or four, I—> She was cut off in mid-thought. The whole corridor shook and everyone staggered for balance as something slammed against the corridor shield actually making the surface flex inward. <Aie! What was that?>

<That was a wakeup call, I think,> Vulcindra mused.

<Quickly, my Son, what is it?>

<What about six gates?> he said.

<A gate instead of a shield!> Daena exclaimed. <Like we saw Tal use! You don’t need six, just three! You just have to match the edges of the openings.>

<Gates cannot overlap,> Vulcindra remarked with a cold tone. <Overlapping is very bad. If the edges are not perfectly aligned we will get cooked anyways. Also the gate cannot occupy a physical surface.>

Gaea grunted as whatever was hitting that corridor shield hammered home again, making the metal of the walls and floor glow red. The air grew hot, and the hair of the team members seemed to come alive and flutter in the air as though suspended on strings.

<Damn,> the All-mother murmured. <I almost didn’t stop that. Alignment is tricky. I cannot do more than two like that.>

<I will do the third,> Vulcindra said. <I don’t particularly want to fight what’s out there and they are now damping gate fields so I cannot escape.>

<I will get us off the ground,> Kalindinai declared. Swinging her shaladen around, she started casting.

<Mother, can you hold the shields and create these gates?> Daena asked.

The male and female Kriar seargas raised their hands and a glowing red surface appeared between Gaea’s shield and them. <We can protect against the small arms fire,> the male Kriar said.

Gaea dropped her hand and focused her attention on the corridor barricade. She ducked her head down and braced. For an instant, it seemed like everyone blurred, after images distorting and flickering as an even stronger hit ruptured the corridor walls, shafts of blue energy slicing through into the floor and ceiling around the area the goddess had reinforced.

The All-mother let out a pained yell and rocked her head back. She gasped for breath. <I—I can’t hold it—not as an avatar. It will kill Wren.>

Bhaal extended her claws with a rasp. <Mother, I go!>

Gaea swung her arm and the glowing blue field dropped.

Even to Vera’s eyes, it appeared as if the blue-haired Lokori vanished, there was only the crack of air in her wake and the screams of opponents getting cleaved by irresistible claws.

Kalindinai finished her spell and the gold diamonds began appearing on the foreheads of everyone in the group.

Corim converted his shaladen into a large shield and stepped over to cover any shots coming from the open corridor. Daena moved with him, putting a hand on his shoulder and another aimed at the corridor opening.

Sarai drifted over and gripped Kalindinai’s shaladen.

Vulcindra came to the middle of the group. Spreading her hands and making a circular gesture. <I will make the top to bottom gate. Be sure to stay clear of the threshold. These will be one sided, and if anything extends beyond the surface, it will conduct the energy of the explosion into our space.> She looked up, blinked her red eyes, then looked down to the floor. She pointed a finger and swung around, a white line appeared in the air, describing a flat square beneath their hovering feet. She made a shoving motion and a silvery sheet of swirling nothingness appeared below and above them.

Gaea made a similar gesture, inscribing a white line in the air along the edge of the overhead gate edge, down through the air, across the bottom gate periphery then up to join the start of the line. She shoved her palm forward and a silvery surface shimmered into being.

<Seargas,> Gaea told the two Kriar. <You can conserve your energy. That will guard us.>

The Kriar seargas dropped their shield, the enemy shots rained toward them unabated. The door guards did not continue shooting for more than a few instants because it was easily apparent such attacks were fruitless. Each blast of energy hit the facing gate and exited the gate on the opposite side. To direct fire of any kind, the space where they stood did not exist.

The blasts in the far corridor had stopped—leaving nothing but an unsettling silence. Why didn’t Bhaal come back?

<I get her,> Vera thought to them, leaping off the gate platform to the floor with the shaladen transformed as a shield. She zigzagged up the corridor, dodging through the shots fired by the door guards.

She didn’t get more than half way to the turn in the hall when a single figure strode in from the passage, dragging the Lokori’s limp form by the neck.

Vera slid to a stop still a half dozen steps from the gold skinned creature. It looked like a male Kriar with gray hair, but Bannor knew in a heartbeat this was something else—something far worse. It was not his size or build which were only a little over average, or the shimmering silver-eyes that burned with a cold light. He did not have any armor, and came dressed only in one of the blue-black Daergon uniforms that was now shredded in several places from what must have been hits from Bhaal’s claws. The gold skin underneath the cloth wept trickles of white blood from shallow scratches.

The Daergon door guards behind them stopped firing, no doubt to avoid hitting one of their own.

The creature turned its head in a slow, almost mechanical motion, and its gaze fixed on Vera. A blue-jewel set in a thick black collar around his throat flashed. He jerked and twitched his head letting out a growl. He gritted his teeth and his silver eyes narrowed. He dropped Bhaal to the floor with a thud, and turned to face Vera.

A glossy black spiral tattoo on the left side of the Daergon’s face came into view as he stepped forward. A blue shimmering pulsed from the emblem, at that instant Bannor saw hundreds of Eternity’s primal threads begin to spin and dance around the enemy’s body.

There was a gasp from those still with Gaea. Corim’s deep voice clearly heard even to where they were standing. “Oh frell!” He came blasting through the gates toward them. “Vera run—that’s Garfang!”

Garfang?

It happened so fast that Bannor didn’t really see it. Keyed up as he and Vera were, his nola instantly snatched at the oncoming hand hardened with eternity’s energies that exploded forward with such speed the air boomed like thunder.

Vera turned inside the hurricane force of the strike, her clothing shredding away under the terrible velocity of the attack. Bannor was certain that it was more instinct than conscious thought, she whipped around with her own incredible speed and crashed home a pulverizing elbow into the attacker’s exposed midsection.

Bannor had no doubt the hit, impelled by shaladen strength and G’Yakki martial training, would have knocked down a castle. There was no possible way at the speed both opponents were moving to control the reaction caused by the impact.

Garfang deflected and went straight into the crystalline screen guarding the genemar chamber. The chaotic weave of threads surrounding the creature’s body tore through the hardened material like paper.

Bannor had only an eyeblink to realize their error as a roar whited out the hallway…

Return to Contents

Chapter Thirty-Two

Kaboom? Not funny, not funny at all…
—Bannor Nalthane Starfist,
Prince Conjugal of Malan

In the terrible instant between instinct and tragedy, Bannor and Vera had no time to even curse. A single attack followed by a single counter, a crash through a trapped window, and then an instantaneous flare of light. In those fractured hairs of time, neither of them tracked the third body that hit them from behind, or the choking metallic embrace that engulfed them in darkness.

The next heartbeat was a punishing slam that knocked Bannor down into emptiness.

As he floated in the void, a horrible sense went through him.

Oh, no—Sarai!

The terror shrieked through him. Did Vera die? Had his wife-to-be, his mothers, friends and child all been destroyed? They hadn’t finished the shield!

Damn his being in this stupid bloody sword! He needed out. What if someone needed his help?

Must—

Get—

Out!

The fury and despair made pain shriek through his formless existence. The pain did not have a source, he had no limbs, no body to feel pain with—yet it hurt. The agony only made him thrash harder. This empty void had limits. It wasn’t infinite and he wanted to be free of it!

He focused all of his energy, calling on his nola and willing himself free. The pain grew worse. He ignored it. Pain meant nothing, protecting Sarai and the others was the only thing that mattered.

It felt as if he was being ripped in half but he persisted, slamming his self against the walls imprisoning him.

With horrible sense of tearing flesh he exploded into the real world. A smoking ruin burned itself into his vision. In tao form, he floated above the floor of the decimated corridor, hundreds of tons of charred composites and metal lying in piles. The place where Sarai and the others had been was now a crater in debris.

He had no throat to swallow with, or heart to hammer, but his intangible form burned with the sight. He rushed down to the collapsed bodies.

Flesh torn, clothing burned, and skin blackened the team should have been turned to ash, but they had somehow managed to shield themselves from the majority of the explosion’s force.

Sarai lay next to her mother, her beautiful face streaked with blood and burns. It filled him with a great horrid sense of dread.

She was so still.

No. Please. No. He dipped into her with his nola, fear churning in his whole being. Please, let me find a spark.

The body of his love felt tepid. Her heart was nothing but a feeble vibration, her blood going still.

He jerked his senses back. Frell. Frell. Frell! He needed to treat her, but he was only a tao. He couldn’t risk using his nola to heal her in this state. If he did it wrong she would die for sure. He spun around, was anyone else alive? Kalindinai was critically injured and in need of aid. Wren and Daena were badly injured but alive, the steel hard bodies of the first ones able to withstand fearsome punishment. Vulcindra was likewise unconscious, heavily injured but no doubt protected by the powerful magics she surrounded herself with. Corim, Vera, and Bhaal were buried under tons of metal. The two Kriar seargas were also down, a strange crimson glow surrounding their bodies.

The Kriar! They had emergency healing artifices, that silver disk that Marna used on Gaea. Eclipse told him that all warriors carried them! He rushed to the male Kriar searga grasping at the kit on his belt.

He yanked his hand back as the metallic box sizzled in response to his contact with it. Damn! The thing was made of metal! Why did the Kriar make so many things out of frelling metal?

He needed a way to get that case open—something organic. He grabbed the Kriar’s hand and pressed it to the latch, clumsily manipulating the fingers with his will. The latch was some kind of squeeze mechanism. It required too much finesse! Damn it. Damn.

Panic making him burn, he scanned the hall for something—anything that might help him get in that case. His gaze went to the door into the genemar containment area. The shielding had apparently only given the Daergon guards partial protection. Two of the four were definitely dead, ceiling debris had crushed the head of one, and the chest of another. A third was down and also had that red glow around him. The last one was dragging himself along the ground, heavily injured but still functioning.

He would never persuade one of these murdering sycophants to help. Sarai and Kalindinai were fading fast. He needed a body. The Daergon was conscious and mobile.

Resolved, Bannor raced toward the weakened Daergon warrior. For some time, he had known the power of a savant’s tao and its ability to dominate a weaker spirit. Daena had used the superior power of her tao to capture his.

He had no desire to live in the body of one of these ruthless traitors, but Sarai and the others were depending on him and he couldn’t chance the Daergon getting control back.

Bannor plunged his intangible hand into the Kriar’s spirit core and clamped down.

The warrior let out an incoherent scream.

What he was about to do was unforgivable.

The Kriar writhed and thrashed, howling in pain.

This was so wrong. It was this or letting Sarai, Kalindinai, and his unborn child die.

He closed his fingers and yanked the Kriar’s spirit core free.

The gold creature’s motions halted like a puppet with its strings cut. Feeling sick to the root of his being, he shoved himself into the Kriar’s now empty shell.

The sense of coming up from the bottom of an ocean washed over him and an indeterminate time later, he opened his eyes. Ow. His left arm and side were in agony. This Daergon had been badly injured, broken ribs for sure. The arm was a piece of meat.

He found the pouch on his belt and manipulated it open. It took a few tries. This body felt totally different from the others he had been in. He found one of the silver emergency healing disks. Good.

With an effort that felt like being sawed in half he clawed his way up the wall and forced himself to stand. The legs of this body shook, the flesh scored and burned by the blast. Step by staggering step he clambered through the debris and down into the fused crater where Sarai lay. He tore open her blouse, pulled the silver disk out of the container, fumbled the protective backing off the disk and pressed it between her breasts.

Nothing happened.

Argh! Spit. Why didn’t it work? Oh frell. Oh frell. What did Marna do? She pressed a button on something on her arm. He went to the two downed Kriar, they had similar armbands to what Marna had used. The damn things had all kinds of buttons. Which one was it? Think! He racked his mind. What had it been?

He scanned the array of black buttons with symbols on them and a small blinking crystal which displayed lines of Kriar writing. To the left of these were six larger buttons. Marna had touched near the edge of the band. These buttons were colored: red, blue, green, yellow, orange, and white. Press them all and hope? No, damn it, who knew what these things did? Which had it been? He gripped his head—which one? Damn, he hurt. He drew his hand back and noticed it was covered in white.

White.

Kriar had white blood.

Human healers used red to indicate healing objects. Red—the color of human blood.

He rummaged through the two searga’s pouches, and pulled another of the patches and applied it to Kalindinai, hoped, and hit the white button.

At first nothing happened, then both patches glowed and let out a rasping sound. Both Sarai and Kalindinai twitched and gasped for breath. Within instants, their open wounds began filming over and their breathing became more noticeable. They both needed a healer badly, but this would keep them alive a while longer.

Now, to get them out of this mess. He went to Wren. She still held the shaladen Garadhyr in her hand. The powerful weapon wasn’t even blackened by the blast.

“G—” He made a squeak of a sound. “Ga—” Ow, the effort of talking hurt. He knew Kriar could talk because Marna, Eclipse, and Quasar did it all the time. Perhaps some trained to do it but others never developed the skill. Talking aloud was inefficient compared to mindspeak, so it only made sense that most never bothered to learn it. However, he needed to speak aloud. “Gar—urrr…” He struggled to make the sound. “Gar—ad—ummm—Garad—urrr—Garadhyr!”

Closing his eyes, he pressed his hand to the shaladen. Fortunately, the blade remembered him and didn’t shock him dead. He pushed his will into the weapon. <Corim! Are you alive?>

There was a muddled response. The warrior was alive—though from the weakness of the thought, barely. <Corim! Wake up!>

<Urrr—Ban—Bannor?>

<I’m going to summon you out of that mess.>

Bannor focused his will and his desire to have Zortach and its wielder at his side. With rasp of eternity’s energies, a horse-sized silvery blob appeared nearby amid the debris. What was that? Only by dipping into his thread sight did it become clear. The blob was the shaladen. Corim had wrapped it around himself, and probably Vera.

He staggered over and grunted out the name of Zortach, and requested contact with it then pressed his hand against the silvery mass. He concentrated and willed Corim’s weapon back into sword form.

The metal withdrew and collapsed into the elongated blade of Zortach, revealing a battered Corim with his arms still wrapped around Vera. Like Corim, the G’Yakki woman was bruised, crushed and torn, Xersis strapped to her now mangled arm, the limb twisted askew. Both fighters were seriously injured. The shaladen had only partially shielded them. At least they survived.

He separated the two with effort. Corim could only grunt. What consciousness existed was minimal. He slapped the silver emergency patches on both Corim and Vera and activated them.

He touched Xersis and transformed it back to a band on his arm. <Mother! Can you hear me?>

<Bannor?! Thank goodness!> He felt a warm embrace go through his mind. <We know your location, and are trying to get in now. Kalindinai tried to wrap the shaladen around us, but she wasn’t fast enough… Are they…???> She paused.

<Wren, Daena, and Vulcindra are unconscious,> he answered. <Sarai, Kalindinai, Corim, and Vera all need a healer immediately, I used some Kriar emergency aid on them but they need real care soon. The two seargas are in some kind of stasis. I’m sorry, but I don’t think Bhaal survived.>

He felt a shock of sadness from Gaea. Once the misunderstandings had been cleared up, Bhaal had been a loyal and dedicated supporter. He felt the goddess draw on her resolve and control herself. <My son, you feel different. If all the others are injured, how did you treat them?>

<I managed to get myself out of the sword… I—uhhh—borrowed the body of a Daergon who—> He paused hearing the sound of metal sliding. He looked around and saw nothing; probably just the debris settling. <A Daergon who won’t be needing it anymore. Can I anchor a gate to get you here? We need to move now!>

<That part of Homeworld is completely isolated now. They’ve erected chronal and space blocks. We’re in the process of getting in.>

<Spit,> he growled the thought. <This body is torn up. I can’t defend the whole team by myself!>

<Bannor, what happened to Garfang? Was he killed?>

He turned and looked through all the shattered windows. <I don’t see him. Who is he?> He looked down to Corim, the pained look on his bruised and torn face, remembering the panic in his voice. <Why was Corim so anxious?>

<Garfang is an ancient weapon created by the Daergons to kill the eternals. He was rumored dead, but apparently they’d kept him in hiding. He’s a monster, Bannor. He killed all the eternals at once—by himself.>

A numbness spread through him. <You must be…jesting.>

<No.>

<Damn, I’m a sparring dummy here, I can barely move. Can you avatar into me and heal them up?>

He felt warmth spread through their telepathic link, the all-mother probing his being. He experienced a wave of concern and fear that Gaea capped. <No. You aren’t anchored in that body. If I try to avatar into that shell without you properly merged, it would just kill the body.>

He clenched a fist in frustration, his left arm only able to twitch. He looked around at the wounded, feeling nearly as helpless as he had been in the sword. He drew an aching breath, realizing that there was a pounding in his chest and his lower abdomen. <Mother, get Marna or one of the Kriar on the link, I have to get this body working fast.>

A few moments passed and new thought voice filled his head; the silky essence of Vatraena Solaris. <Bannor, I understand the situation, I believe I can help, but you will have to let me into your mind completely.>

He didn’t hesitate. <Do it,> he told her. He thought his pattern into Xersis and willed it to release the blocks and shields that guarded his mind.

Bannor felt the Kriar matriarch flood into his mind, a gentle but overwhelming torrent of self and knowledge. In an instant, his vision and the sensations of his body changed. With Marna in him, his view of the surroundings sharpened, and there were words in the Kriar language superimposed over the images in his sight.

She directed him to kneel down and drape his mangled left arm across his knees. The Kriar that he had taken over wore the same arm-band that he had used to operate the emergency healing artifices. With their good right hand, Marna punched rapidly on the band’s buttons, watching the display.

<Good,> she told him. <He’s a field level operative, and his matrixes do not appear to be damaged. He has the old limiter code which I can bypass…> She continued to work, pressing incomprehensible combinations of buttons. After a few moments, he felt a brief sensation of surprise. <Bannor, his memories—they’re still intact and his encryption path is still open.>

This meant nothing to him. <Does that help us get out of this mess?>

<Not directly, but it means I can get his access codes. If he was guarding the genemar, he’s a very trusted member of the party with high levels of access. Pardon the delay, I need to get that information, it may get us inside to help you.>

<Help is good… Help is—> He paused in mid thought as he heard a rumbling sound somewhere beyond the shattered frames of the windows that looked into the genemar chamber. The debris shifted and heaved, scraping and groaning as something beneath it moved.

He felt an icy sensation claw through his body. He swallowed as a gold hand thrust up out of the mangled remnants of the building structure.

No. Oh no. No frelling way. <Spit… Garfang is alive,> Bannor murmured the thought.

Marna was obviously focused on getting the information that the Kriar guard had stored away. He felt her attention shift in response to his words.

He rarely witnessed any surprise or fear come from the Kriar matriarch. The sight of that hand and what it symbolized sent a bolt of raw fear slicing through her. <Oh… dark…> Her whole presence in him seemed to shrink. <Bannor, you have to—>

<Marna!> he yelled the thought. <Don’t freeze up on me! I’m in danger—not you. I need to get this body working. I can’t do that without you.>

The force of his determination brought Marna back in focus. <Y-y-yes, my apologies.> She turned her attention back to the band on his arm, fingers flickering over the buttons, then touching the jewel at his waist.

A red glow radiated from his skin and a prickly warmth spread through him. In a matter of instants, the open gashes in his arms and legs started filming over.

Through the window, they glanced up and saw more debris sliding away. Garfang would be free in a matter of few breaths.

<This warrior’s matrixes aren’t high enough order for rapid hard tissue regeneration,> Marna informed. <It will take time.>

<Guess we’ll have to improvise,> he thought as he crawled over to Garadhyr and pulled it from Wren’s hand. He removed the armor covering his mangled left arm and took off the band that controlled the Kriar artifices. He pushed the weapon into twitching fingers of his left hand and closed his eyes—this was going to hurt.

He took a moment to study his good arm and mirror the patterns in his nola. He focused on the Garadhyr and pressed his nola into it and behind it.

Make this possible.

He checked on Garfang. He had an impulse to simply rush over and try to finish the creature before it was fully mobile, but instinct said its defenses were up. He needed to be as strong as possible before confronting that beast.

He turned his attention back to Garadhyr and willed the shaladen to change. He didn’t convert the infinitely mutable weapon into a band, or armor, but into a replacement for his damaged flesh. The metal flowed up his arm and into the open wounds and into the marrow of shattered bones.

It felt like being stabbed with a thousand knives. Pulsing gold flesh straightened, bubbling and creaking as sinew, nerve, and bone were forced back into the proper configurations and permeated by magical metal.

Teeth gritted, perspiration pouring down his face, hearts thundering in his torso, he shuddered and moaned as the transformation finished. After agonizing moments, the pain finally subsided.

The gold color of the skin on his left arm had been replaced by mirror polished metal. He focused on his left hand. At first nothing happened, and then his fingers twitched, a few more attempts and he was able to open and close his hand and move his arm.

He heard the awe in Marna’s thought. <Amazing.>

<Beia’s shaladen Snowfire gave me the idea,> he told her. <Since the shaladen is alive it should be able to become living tissue, but someone would have to be crazy to try it.> He rose to his feet, the healing of the rest of his body appeared near complete. He picked up the band and strapped it back on his arm. <Of course, facing something that kills eternals is a pretty crazy situation.> He went and knelt between Sarai and Kalindinai.

Seeing Sarai’s torn and partially healed face made anger drill through him. His dipped his thread sense into her body to their unborn child. Vhina’s life remained strong. One thing that child had inherited from him—his stubborn streak. Through all the violence she had hung on to life and grew stronger. He wondered if these experiences before her birth would affect her as a person.

She wouldn’t get to be a person if he didn’t get them out of this situation. Garfang wasn’t the only threat, the Daergons had other agents. They simply considered their team dead, and had not dispatched more warriors to the area.

He kissed Sarai. “I love you,” he whispered. “I’ll protect us somehow.” He kissed Kalindinai on the forehead. He spoke Melakanir’s name and pulled the shaladen from her fingers.

He gripped the weapon in both hands. <Marna, tell Koass I need this body deputized.>

<I am with you, Son,> Koass answered in his mind. <We all are. I was simply waiting for your request.>

The sound of that deep voice, confident and calm, steadied him.

With a groan, Garfang pushed himself to his feet. The blue gem in the thick collar around his neck flashed, his cold white eyes narrowed and he made a rumble deep in his throat.

Bannor swallowed. <Now would be good.>

<Acknowledged.>

Xersis flared blue-white, then Garadhyr and Melakanir joined it. Bolts of Eternity’s power stabbed down into the core of his being, forging anew the bindings linking him to the source of life and balance. As the change coursed through him, he hung onto his focus, redirecting some of the enormous surge with his nola, pressing the pure power of life and magic into the bodies around him, reinforcing the sparks of their lives and bodies.

The flare of light subsided, leaving him on shaking hands and knees, flesh smoking and hot from the transformation. He drew a breath and settled his body. A nola-wielding Kriar with three shaladens. He pulled the threads of the shaladen weapons together, and shoved his nola into them feeling the riveting surge of resonances meshing and humming together in perfect symmetry. Three synchronized shaladens.

So, let’s hope that’s enough to keep me alive.

Bannor pushed to his feet, gold skin glistening and sparking with Eternity’s energy. He knew from the feel of his body that the combination of efforts had healed the last of his wounds. He was as healthy as he was going to get.

He moved forward to put himself in front of his injured friends and loved ones.

Garfang watched him with icy eyes, the wounds on his body steaming and bubbling.

This creature killed all the eternals? He was powerful certainly, and nothing any sane creature would trifle with, but Quasar seemed to him far more deadly. The threads of the Tarkath’s aura had appeared deceptive and dangerous. This creature’s threads were primal. Eternity’s power did course through his body, but he didn’t seem to have the right threads though, or the right arrangement to kill one eternal, much less all of them… His brain was too addled. He’d seen something like this arrangement before. Where? In any case, the creature was more than deadly and that was enough.

Going head on with Garfang was a mistake, one he would avoid. The creature was tough, but not invulnerable. The creature stood holding the wound that Vera had inflicted. He could be hurt, it simply had to be done so that the power could not be turned back or used.

Bannor looked past Garfang to the barrier and through it to the genemar. It didn’t matter what Garfang was—that weapon could kill him. Too bad it took so long to master and use the thing. The ancient Jyril weapon hovered in a cylindrical crystalline chamber reinforced with giant girders of solid alloy. Networks of glossy material fed into the casing from dozens of sources around the room.

He guessed that the Kriar had managed to use their artifices to gain some modicum of control over the thing.

To have any chance of getting to the device, much less use or escape with it would require breaking through the barrier and all that armor.

He flexed a burning hand.

That might be possible.

<What are you?> Garfang thought to him in boom.

He drew a breath, feeling the riveting strength of Eternity lash back and forth through this form. As strong as this Kriar body was, it wouldn’t last long under this kind of strain, he had to end this fast.

Bannor ignored Garfang and concentrated on Garadhyr and Melakanir and merged the two weapons into one. He launched forward past the gray haired creature at the barrier.

Fast as he was, Garfang nearly intercepted him. He got only an instant to focus his nola. He swung the blade home into what appeared to be the weakest spot of the force barrier. The impact created a roar that shook the decimated structure causing the metal under his feet shriek and fracture. Bolts of energy splashed outward as the shield shuddered and wobbled under the intensity of the strike.

Garfang who was trying to prevent his hitting the shield staggered back from the shock of the blast, shaking his head and growling.

Bannor located another weak spot in the shield and leaped toward it. Still staggered by the first blast Garfang remained a few steps back when Bannor loosened the threads of the shield and smashed another building-crushing strike into it. Rainbows of color shot through the barrier, making the artifices inside the guarded area spark and smoke.

The concussion knocked the powerful creature back yet again and Bannor bounded away through the debris toward another weak spot in his sight. The third time he had a handful of heartbeats to summon his nola and shaladen powers, gauge his attack and execute.

This time the energy defense quivered and for the tiniest sliver of time, a gap appeared in the defense where a thread could slip through. Without knowing Kriar artifices, he could only guess at what would be vulnerable. He grabbed the threads of one of the globe-shaped devices that had reacted to his first two hits, and ripped through them.

The response was more savage than Bannor ever imagined. The crystalline sphere detonated with incredible force, causing other devices inside the area to also explode. The shield bottled up the monstrous conflagration, liquefying metal and incinerating composites. Reality itself seemed bend and sway, everything in sight blurring and distorting as the forces volatized all but the toughest matter in the confines.

Even that horrific blast had only weakened the shield. The barrier remained firm. Bannor stared, feeling his whole body go cold with disbelief. What did it take?

The genemar was a trap. A tar baby guarded by a defense that would take tremendous time and effort to breach. Any attempts on it gave the Daergons opportunities to deal with the intruders. The strategy was working too.

The blue jewel around Garfang’s neck flared and sparked. He clutched his head. <Stop—doing—that!> The creature roared. Bannor wasn’t sure whether that was directed at him or someone else.

At first he thought that jewel was part of the monster’s power, now he had other suspicions.

<For light’s sake, what the dark are you doing, Bannor?!> Marna demanded in his head. <Garfang will kill you! Protect yourself!>

<I am protecting myself,> he answered. He bounded away as Garfang charged.

The monster was so addled and agitated that he wasn’t using his powers. In trying to keep out the eternals, the Daergons had crippled a large part of Garfang’s fighting ability. Chronal and dimensional movement was being blocked and they were the Kriar’s two most powerful weapons.

He dodged around another rush. It wasn’t as fast or as on point as the attack that almost got Vera. The debris and poor footing made excessive speed a hazard to the attacker, not the defender. Garfang had healed, but was still feeling the effects of the explosion and Vera’s counter-assault. Getting caught in the shock waves of his attacks against the shield had shaken him up further.

<Fight me!> Garfang snarled. A flare of light appeared around his hand and shaft of gold energy streaked out.

It happened so fast Bannor didn’t have time to think. He flicked his wrist up and a rasp filled the air. The gold blast hit a burning red shaft of plasma and deflected into the debris with a crash that made Bannor’s hair flutter.

Bannor looked down at his left hand, and the blade of energy gleaming in his fist. It had been instinctive. Some part of the Kriar who once inhabited this body remained intact. The thought of it made him sick again.

Breathing hard, Garfang glared at him, cold eyes narrow. The blue gem around his neck sparked and flared. He let out a yell and gripped the band, as flares and sparks flashed around his body.

It was too good an opportunity to pass up. Bannor launched forward and brought the full power of both shaladens blazing down.

Garfang’s internal conflict broke at the last instant, and the blade aimed to split him in half hit his upraised hand instead. The force made the metal underfoot shake, and the whole chamber trembled with the impact. The blade itself stopped instantly like it had become stuck, and a flare of sparks spun around the gray-haired creature’s body. Open wounds in the creature’s flesh closed, he straightened, and the glow in his eyes brightened. He countered with redoubled speed and Bannor barely blocked with the force blade. The impact still knocked him staggering and sliding backward.

Ow. Spit. That was a mistake. At least he knew for certain now. Garfang’s threads had looked familiar in their configuration. They were like Wren’s! The Daergon weapon was a specially designed creature similar to a force savant. He probably possessed some insanely high threshold for energy redirection. The eternals had probably killed themselves in a head on attack trying to break the monster’s upper limit.

If that was the case, focusing on the shield remained the best strategy. Giving Garfang free energy to use against him was stupid. Let him waste his power chasing. Enhanced by the shaladen, this Kriar body possessed lightning speed. With time powers blocked, he could keep away from Garfang as long as he stayed alert.

A couple more hits and he’d be able to get at the genemar. Any delicate control machinery the Daergons kept inside that chamber had been vaporized in that last explosion. The amazingly tough armor around the genemar itself appeared to be scored and pitted but otherwise unharmed by the titanic release.

He dodged Garfang’s follow up attack. The creature’s movements showed a significant increase in speed. Damn it, he should have trusted his instincts and not gone for that opening. This was taking too much time. After that explosion, the Daergons were bound to know there was a risk of losing the genemar. If more warriors came on the scene, he couldn’t possibly defend the others and make a go for the shield. He had to break that thing in the next two tries.

Bannor scrambled around and through the debris, dodging blasts and leading Garfang further from the shield. The creature’s movements were faster, but still forced and somewhat clumsy. The way he acted and responded made Bannor certain he was being controlled. The question was—did he become a worse monster if the control was broken?

Breathing harder, lungs growing hot and hard, he circled back. The instinct for blocking the energy blasts continued to serve him and he avoided most of the attacks thrown at him.

He turned and focused his thread sight on the shield, picked a weak spot and blazed for it. Garfang tried to cut him off too late, he brought both the shaladen and the plasma blade down on the screen, focusing on a rippling of the force.

The two weapons screamed, creating a blast that sent massive hunks of debris flying. The shield quivered and in that instant of weakness, he grabbed the heaviest thread in the room and rather than try to break it, kinked it around the other threads nearby and knotted it off to impede the balances.

He lunged aside as Garfang smashed into the shield only a step behind him. The extra drain seemed to be all it took. Something in the chamber burst and grayish mist poured from one of the large crystalline cylinders that had not been broken by his first major assault.

Garfang grunted and looked over, white eyes narrowing at the sight. His attention shifted back to Bannor and he growled.

<Don’t look at me,> he offered. <You broke it.>

The creature dove at him.

It was time to use one problem against another. Bannor snared Garfang’s threads and sent him face first into the barrier. The shield had weakened considerably so he was able pull enough threads of power away from it to ensnare Garfang in them.

The creature let out a bellow as the energy of the barrier arced and rasped around him. His force ability absorbed the power to protect him.

As fast as the creature started to break away Bannor grabbed more and more weakened threads and pulled them around him, pushing the Daergon weapon deeper and deeper into the weave of the force construction.

Go ahead, Fang boy, break all the threads you like.

The more the incredibly powerful creature struggled, breaking and stretching the construct, the more he weakened the skein, making it possible for Bannor to further ensnare him.

The harrowing part of this plan was Garfang’s rising potential, the shield was feeding him. Giving him strength that could be turned against Bannor.

Bannor swallowed. He was committed now. To break free, Garfang would have to bring down the shield itself. His efforts were already causing other components in the chamber to shudder and smoke.

Apparently, whoever or whatever was controlling Garfang recognized the ploy, and he stopped struggling and simply snarled and cried in pain.

Bannor raised the plasma weapon and pointed it at the back of Garfang’s head. With his defenses down, that plasma blade would pass through meat and bone like a string through water. The creature continued to howl and writhe in pain. He lowered the tip toward the collar.

<Do not,> a cold thought uttered from behind him. <Back away.>

Bannor didn’t look back, he didn’t need to. The threat to the shield had finally brought more of the Daergon beasts to the dance. He drew a breath. He couldn’t give up. Sarai and Vhina would die if he didn’t come up with something. Keep calm, find an opening. <You shoot me and this weapon might go through the collar anyway.>

He heard the rasp of a plasma blade springing into being. He heard metal boots clanking through the debris, the sound getting closer.

Damn it. His thread sense told him there was more than one nearby, but they were using that stealth armor. He couldn’t pin-point any of them.

Garfang let out a roar, heaving and struggling against the shield. The whole structure fluctuated and flickered. <Get—me—out!>

Bannor kept his shaladen readied, but the plasma blade only hairs from chopping through Garfang’s collar.

The enemy Kriar came up behind Bannor and held the blade in front of his throat. <I’m going to bring this forward, you can back up or lose your head—which you pick is immaterial.>

Bannor backed up as the blade advanced but at the same time sent his thread sense into the collar controlling Garfang. The Daergons hadn’t reacted until it looked like he might cut the beast loose. He didn’t like the odds, but they were better than counting on mercy from these dark spawn.

In the time it took to take a step he had he discovered the nature of the device and the trap mechanism in it that would kill Garfang if he should try to remove it. The thing was too delicate and to intertwined with the creature’s body for a simple breaking or redirecting of flows.

He had only instants to act. The only recourse was to map all of its threads at once and do something he had never tried to do before.

Erase them.

He rocked his head back gathering the thing’s entire pattern into his nola, swallowing it up, knowing each nuance and substructure of the skeins within the object and all the threads related to and connected with it. He focused all of the garmtur’s power on it and sent it forth.

Destroy.

On the instant of willing it, Garfang let out an even louder scream, his whole body seeming to go translucent as the power of eternity shafted through him. The collar around his neck imploded with a crack and vanished.

Bannor only caught a glimpse of the Kriar beside him, but Garfang breaking free was enough of a distraction. He launched backward, transforming the shaladen into a shield, as shots whined toward him from three directions.

Garfang, free of control, let out a roar. There was the unmistakable crack of artifices breaking under the strain.

Bannor’s thread sense detected the build up of energy and he dove over the bodies of his injured comrades willing the shaladens to engulf them all.

<No! You fool that—>

The Daergon’s words were never finished as a star-hot detonation drowned out everything…

Return to Contents

Chapter Thirty-Three

I have never been more pleased to be
chastised. He looked a seemingly impossible
situation in the eye and somehow made it
come together…
—Vatraena Marna Solaris,
Fabrista Peerless High Counsel

It burned. Even through the protective skin of the shaladen surrounding him—it burned. The shock hit with a deafening blare and within an eye-blink the metal around them went cooking grill hot. He heard his exposed flesh sizzle and a searing pain clawed into him. At the same time, his body and the enclosed structure formed by the shaladens slammed forward. The world and its pain went brown, then gray, but did not go black as he and the rest of the occupants of his protective barrier appeared to twist in upon themselves.

Through the agony, he focused on only one thing, keeping the integrity of the barrier around them intact. Holding the threads of the structure rigidly in their configurations and not letting them fly apart under the bombardment of an eruption of truly unfathomable intensity.

As quickly as the battering, burning, crushing experience started, it ended with a single rough slam that felt like being punched in the stomach.

The threads he was trying so hard to control slipped from his grip and the shaladens wrapped around he and the others melted away and became their respective weapons.

Feeling like piece of cooked meat, he managed roll between Sarai and Kalindinai look up at the circle of figures around him. He caught a glimpse of massive eternal Nethra on her knees gasping for breath and noble Koass clutching Sharonsheen with blackened hands.

He blinked up in the defuse light of what must be an open area somewhere on Homeworld. In the distance, something was making a shrieking sound that rose and fell.

“H—h—hi,” he croaked. Everything in his vision did a roll. “H—h—help…”

The friends and allies of the Homeworld assault team rushed in, gathering around the injured members of Bannor’s party. He saw King Jhaan and Ryelle come to Kalindinai and Sarai. Wren’s parents, Loric, Cassandra, and the rest of Shael Dal gathered around. Every figure that he saw looked injured, clothing and armor rent and torn, faces dirty and hair ragged. They had been through Hades and he was certain the Baronians had paid a heavy toll for every cut and every drop of blood lost.

The exquisite face of the green mother came into view as she leaned over and touched his cheek. Her echoing voice, warm and soothing made his hearts seem to slow. “Be calm my son, let yourself heal. That was very, very close.”

He nodded. It was so hard to focus. Sarai was all right, she had to be. He kept his mind trained on that. She would be okay. They had already survived worse. Gaea was with them. Marna was with them. Cassandra and the eternals—they were in the best possible hands.

A big figure crouched down near him. “Damn,” a deep gravelly voice said. He realized it was being said to someone else, and looked around toward the sound. “How does the kid do it? We leave him behind, and he still makes trouble.”

Tal, a blood-streaked mess, his armor torn and gashed was leaned down looking at Corim. Despite the fearsome injuries, he seemed little affected.

Willowy Terra stood behind Tal and put a hand on his shoulder. Silver-haired Senalloy dropped to her knees and began examining Corim with calm expertise.

“He’ll be okay,” Tal determined before Senalloy’s diagnosis. “Just some burns and broken bones. Kid’s too tough to be killed by that stuff.” He looked over to Cassandra. “How’s little Vee?”

The gold woman nodded. “Just broken bones, organ bruising and loss of blood.”

“I’d have her on my team in a heartbeat,” Tal murmured with a shake of his head. “That whole thing with her clan is just messed up.” He scowled over at Vulcindra’s collapsed body. He turned to Bannor, and tilted his head. “Anyone tell you that you turned gold?”

Bannor let out a snort and coughed. “W-w-wasn’t time—time to be—choosy.”

Tal grinned. He looked over toward Sarai and Kalindinai where the Vatraena was kneeling. “Marna,” Tal asked. “Ain’t this the body of Daergon Rhajgon? One of the guys on your list?”

“He is,” Marna answered, looking up from her ministrations.

“Guess we won’t get much out of him now.”

“Actually,” the Vatraena said. “Before Garfang interrupted, I had already retrieved some vital intelligence. Bannor’s takeover of his body was non-disruptive, his memory encryption link stayed intact. We should get some significant data from him.”

“Yeah, Garfang,” Tal said. He looked back to Koass who was just starting to recover. “Boss, you think he lived through that? I mean whatever happened in there blew a chunk the size of Sharikaar out of that enclave.”

The advocate eternal pushed to his feet, he uprooted the sword Sharonsheen and held it out. Megan appeared at his side, took it and sheathed it over her back. Koass opened and closed his hands, as he did so the blackened flesh flaked away to be replaced by new, normal looking skin.

“It is possible,” the eternal said in his slow boom, his white glowing eyes going dim. “It would be foolish to rule it out. We used the weakening of the shields to pull Bannor out. He might have slipped out the same way.”

“That ain’t good,” Tal murmured. He focused back on Marna. “How’s the princess and Kal?”

The elder Kriar rubbed at her scratched face. “I’ve done what I can for them here. We need to get them to better facilities. Bannor stabilized them at a low threshold.”

“So, Boss, what’s the plan? Regroup or push on?”

Koass sighed, his echoing voice growing heavy. “There’s nothing to push on to. That enclave is no more. Bannor yanked their last gambit from their fingers. Even if the genemar was not destroyed by that blast, it will require preparation to find. We will pull back to Eternity’s heart and set up an infirmary there, regroup everyone from the Kul’Amaron as well. We’ll give Marna time to work the political angles now. Touching off that micro-star on the property of that councilor and the sighting of Garfang is definitely going to shake loose some support.” The advocate Eternal stepped around and bent down. Bannor realized it was King T’Evagduran on whose shoulder he placed a hand. “Jhaan, your family has shouldered this conflict from the start. Allow us to make it right.”

The elf lord bowed his head.

“Tal, Nethra, make preparations to move our operation back to Eternity’s Heart.”

Both Tal and the fire-haired eternal stepped away.

“Marna,” Koass said, his tone dropping. “I will make sure all the appropriate facilities are prepared before our arrival. With our axe raised to take off the snake’s head, there’s no telling which way they will strike.”

The Vatraena nodded. “Agreed.”

He turned to Gaea. “Domma, I hope you don’t mind being our guest for a while.”

Still at Bannor’s side, dark jewel eyes gleaming, Gaea smiled. “If I can be with my children, I’m satisfied.”

Around them the members of the assault team milled about getting ready to depart. There were a lot of them, Bannor realized, not just the thirty or so from the citadel. He noticed at least three score of valkyries milling around, gathering gear and guarding the area. He saw not only Idun, but Thor and Sif as well. Marna’s Kriar contingent had increased as well, with Eclipse and Quasar directing at least a two score of Kriar. Aarlen, Beia, Sindra, Drucilla, Cassin, and Annawen all seemed to be organizing and leading another group of towering warriors all wearing armor adorned with the Frielos falcon crest.

He never imagined that his act of desperation and retaliation would touch off the release of such an amazing juggernaut of fighting power. Eternals, gods, immorts, savants and Kriar all arrayed together with a single purpose.

Mecha that were part of the Kriar contingent with the team rolled up, and he, Sarai, and the others were gently placed on litters.

In a few breaths, the procession began filing through a huge portal formed by Nethra.

As the icy caress of the gateway pulsed across his burned flesh, he felt himself drift off.

***

Bannor awoke an indeterminate time later. The pain of his burns no longer troubled him. He lay in a totally unfamiliar place, on a simple bed with clean linens. The Daergon armor had been stripped off him and he wore the simple close-fitting black stocking the Kriar wore as clothes. The bed sat in an area three paces square cordoned off by curtains. From the sound and feel, this section was one of many in a large ward. A diffuse white light provided a shadowy illumination.

His immediate concern was for Sarai and his heart didn’t even have time to pick up speed before he recognized she was in the bed next to his. His wife-to-be’s face was composed, her silvery hair running in strands across her smooth features. Her chest rose and fell in the slow deep breaths of deep slumber.

He reached out to touch her and stopped as he saw a gold hand stretch out. He frowned, that was not how he wanted to wake her up. After what she’d been through, that shock she could live without.

It was satisfying enough to simply look at her and know she was out of danger. He sighed in relief. Safe. The sight of it made his chest ache and his eyes burn.

It took him a while to pull his gaze away from her and take an interest in his surroundings. The air had a strange cinnamon scent to it, and was so thick with Eternity’s energies that his skin tingled. Voices murmured a short distance away.

A set of breeches had been laid across a chair at the bedside. He slipped out of the blankets, and pulled them on over the paper thin body stocking.

Rubbing his chest he pushed through the curtains toward the voices. The ward was even bigger than he surmised, with more than fifty curtained off alcoves on either side of the long chamber.

Wren, Daena, Ziedra, Euriel, and Idun stood together in a small group speaking in hushed voices. They had obviously cleaned and washed. They all wore their casual clothes instead of armor and their hair was down.

They weren’t the only group, small gatherings of Kriar, valkyries, and other allies stood together near different sections.

Wren’s group noticed him, all of them tensing for an instant before relaxing.

“Bannor,” Wren said, putting a hand to her chest. “Sorry, not used to you looking like that.”

He looked down at himself and back up at her. “Is this guy ugly? I have no idea. Looking in a mirror was pretty low on my list of priorities.”

“You…” Daena drew the word out, obviously looking for the appropriate response.

“Mean looking,” Euriel determined, giving her a blonde hair a flip.

“Aye,” Idun put in with a nod. “A fellow to steer clear of to be sure.”

“Sarai seems okay,” he said. “How’s Kalindinai?”

“The King, Rye and Jan are in with her,” Daena said with concerned look. The girl moved her chin toward the alcove next to his and fingered her auburn hair. “She took more of a hit because she was the one trying to make a defense. If she hadn’t been a Shael Dal, she would have died.”

“She’s out of danger though?”

Daena made a pained face, the green glow of her eyes dimming. “For the most part…”

“It was close,” Ziedra added.

He nodded. “I knew I needed to hurry.” He paused and eyed Wren and then Daena. “You two seem okay.”

Wren put a hand to her chest. “These ascendant bodies are like tree stumps. I feel like an idiot though. I could have gone into battle shape and the blast would have hurt, but it wouldn’t have knocked me out.”

“Me too,” Daena said, face going grim. “We both fouled up. We lost Bhaal because we weren’t thinking.”

“Don’t beat yourselves up,” he responded. “It happened really fast. What about Vera? Is she okay?”

“She’ll mend,” Wren answered with a frown. “Physically anyway. That thing with Vulcindra,” she let out a growl. “Damn that vindictive witch. I think the disappointment messed Vera up even more than before. I feel like invoking the soul biter on Vulcindra just to teach her a lesson.”

“Wren, don’t even joke about that,” Euriel snapped. “That creature is one our family would be wise to avoid the gaze of.”

“Vera is amazing,” he murmured. “I feel bad. I helped her as much as I could.”

“Oh hush, you helped plenty,” Wren said, hands on hips. “What happened? How did Vulcindra interfere?”

He sighed. “We got into a drawn out fight with a higher ranked Daergon, and he was scared of us.”

“Well, yeah,” Daena laughed. “What sane creature wouldn’t be?”

Bannor shrugged. “He went full defensive, and time was running out. She was working on making an opening and we just never got the chance because Vulcindra sneaked in and put him down.” He shook his head. “Vera did something that maybe only a few other people could even come close to doing and because it wasn’t perfect, it’s not a success. I wish I could say she wouldn’t be stubborn about it… but… that’s the way she feels.”

“Trust me,” Wren growled. “Vulcindra knew. It was just her way of getting back at Kalindinai.”

“Well, the one it hurts is Vera,” he said.

“There’s more to it,” Euriel said. “If Kal got Vera over this honor thing, the Felspars would be ecstatic with her. It would be a huge win. It was Vulcindra’s slap for being disrespected.”

“Kalindinai was right not to trust her,” he said. “I just don’t know how we can change Vera’s mind. She was so angry, I was in the sword and it felt like getting cooked.”

“She got angry?” Wren said, blue eyes going wide.

“Blood rage mad,” he said. “She stopped herself and focused back on the mission. She has amazing control.”

“Too much control,” Idun murmured.

“I think Gaea may change her mind,” Ziedra said, looking thoughtful. “I overheard her say something to Cassandra and Koass. I think what Kalindinai proposed to Vera was something Gaea had suggested.”

“I hope so,” he said. “Vera deserves something for all her dedication.” He did a slow turn, seeing no one else familiar around. “Sooo, any thoughts on how long it might take to get back in a body that won’t give Sarai nightmares?”

“All the healers are working on injuries and special cases,” Euriel offered. “I’m thinking a bell or so. Marna had a lot of business to take care of and told us to make sure you don’t leave that body until after she had a chance to examine you again.”

“Aye, there was another strange thing,” Idun said, rubbing her chin. “Gaea said that you had not killed this fellow, and that you should wait until she did something. I—am—perplexed. Pray, how is that possible?”

He frowned. He was both relieved and concerned. The act of killing Rhajgon in order to save Sarai and Kalindinai had not sat well with him at all. He hadn’t destroyed the Kriar’s spirit core. He’d merely pulled it free to get it out of his way. “I’m not sure,” he answered Idun’s question. “I suppose since I didn’t destroy his spirit core that maybe he was preserved somehow.”

Wren clapped her hands. “That’s it. He’s in your hair.”

His hearts jumped a beat. “What?”

“She’s talking about that weird thing when people die around savants,” Ziedra said. “The nola gathers in the spirit and preserves it.” The woman rocked her head back as she speculated. “If you just kind of shoved the guy’s spirit core aside and went inside him, his spirit was probably sublimated.” She pursed her lips. “It usually only happens with someone you’re close to, but I suppose in this case, your nola and his spirit probably touched.”

“Ewww!” Daena let out with a grimace. “Nobody ever told me that! Dead people stick to us? Ghosts follow us around after people die. That’s gross!”

“It’s different than that,” Wren said in quiet subdued voice. “It can be…” She let out a breath. “Unpleasant.”

“You still have Grahm with you?” Bannor asked her.

Wren closed her eyes. She pressed her lips together. “I haven’t dreamed him in a while…” Her voice trailed off.

“Grahm?” Daena said with a furrowed brow. “You mean the guy you ran around with when you were a guilder? The painter guy Ziedra told me about?”

Wren nodded.

The girl’s green eyes were wide. “Whoa.”

Idun raised a finger. “It was that spirit capturing phenomena that allowed me to restore Sarai after Bannor was forced to kill Hecate while she occupied Sarai’s body.” The goddess tilted her head and eyed Bannor. “Vanidaar’s quick thinking to use Melandri’s body to preserve Sarai’s spirit is what saved her life.”

He always wondered how Idun had managed that particular feat but there never had been an occasion or a time that seemed appropriate to ask. Understandably, Sarai was still touchy about it. Moons later, the death of Meliandri remained a taboo subject. Though Kalindinai had never asked what happened to the elf healer’s body, Bannor suspected she knew what transpired.

“Yes, so even though it’s ‘gross’, it’s more of a privilege unique to savants,” Wren said, raising her chin. “Bannor found out he still had his brother with him.”

He blinked. It was still disquieting to think about it. He nodded. “Yes. That reminds me,” he said. “Did I tell you that when I was in your body that one time, that Grahm and my brother Rammal got together somehow in my dream? They seemed like they were plotting something.”

Wren rose up to her toes and her voice cracked. “What? No, you didn’t tell me!”

He pushed out his lip. “Oh. Well, a lot was happening at the time.”

Daena looked sidelong at Wren. “Spirits… plotting? Uh, like what—a body rebellion?”

“I—don’t—know…” Wren’s voice trailed off.

Euriel folded her arms and stared between the two of them. “I swear you two, it’s always something else.”

Both of them blinked at her.

He let out another sigh. Compared to other things going on, that was trivial. There were much more important things to address. “Think I should look in on Matradomma?”

Wren put a hand on his arm. “Let me look in with you so you don’t cause anyone to jump out of their skin.” She pulled her hand back and rubbed her fingers together. “How did you do that anyway?”

“What?”

“That.” She tapped his arm which clunked like metal. “Graft a shaladen into yourself. Everybody that saw it, even the eternals, were making noises.”

He rubbed the arm. “Uh, desperation I guess. When Sarai needs me, I just do whatever I need to do.”

The blonde savant smiled. She walked over to the other cubical and peeked through the curtain. She whispered something then gestured to Bannor.

He stepped up and looked in. King Jhaan, Ryelle, and Janai were all at Kalindinai’s bedside. The Queen looked very pale, her dark hair standing out in bold contrast to her skin where strands fell across her face. She seemed deep asleep. The appearance of her threads was that of extreme exhaustion and weakness.

The King looked to him and nodded. Ryelle and Janai frowned a little, no doubt a bit disturbed by his appearance. They acknowledged him.

<If she wakes up while I’m gone,> he said into their minds through the shaladen. <Tell her she’s in my thoughts.>

The three of them all nodded.

He drew back, feeling self conscious in this strange form with its odd sensations.

He put a hand on Wren’s arm. “Let’s find Marna and Gaea, I want out of this body as soon as possible.”

She put hands on hips. “Is there some hurry besides the obvious?”

“It’s not over, Wren. It won’t be until that genemar is found.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t destroyed?”

“No, I’m not sure,” he responded. “That’s why I want to find out for certain.”

“Well, I agree with you there.”

He frowned. “Wren, would you look in on Sarai and see if she’s awake? I don’t want to scare her.”

The blonde savant nodded, went to the other alcove and peeked in.

“Still asleep,” she reported after a few instants. “That trap really roughed her up. We should have been wearing the armor… there was a lot of things we should have been doing.”

“It’s done now,” he said with a frown. “I can’t help but feel it’s partially my fault.”

Wren frowned at him. “How’s that?”

“I went and nearly got myself killed—again. For a while there, everyone thought I had died. It messed everyone up—including you—that’s why you didn’t go on the counter offensive, right?”

Wren frowned. She met his eyes for a moment then looked away. She rubbed a hand through her golden hair. “I was tired—really, really tired.” She pursed her lips. “Sarai was in a lot of pain, and so was Kalindinai and Janai, I couldn’t leave them like that. Neither could Daena.”

He looked at her for a moment, then turned his attention elsewhere. Sometimes there were disadvantages to the telepathic powers granted by the shaladens. The twinge of hurt that he caught was more than enough. He felt humbled to know that he had come to mean that much to her even though they were only friends.

Wren broke the uneasy silence after a few instants. “Come on, I’ll help you find Marna and Gaea.”

The whole group trailed after them. Wren led him through the ward to some doors at the end which opened into yet another ward identical to the one they came from, this place too had dozens of injured. There had been a lot of warriors in the battle, hundreds it seemed, from the number of injured people occupying beds. The three mecha healers obviously could not attend such a large number of wounded, so there were numerous creatures moving about assisting in the treatment process. Though many were still injured themselves, faces composed and wings gleaming, many of those helping out were valkyries. Every day he worked with the Chosen, his respect and appreciation for them grew.

There were some who were dour and unwelcoming, but the majority of those he had met were truly noble and brave creatures, blessed not only with a warrior spirit but with compassion as well.

Most of the winged ladies nodded to Wren and Euriel and bowed to Idun as they passed. Many of them touched hands with Ziedra and smiled as she called them by name. The dark-haired ascendant seemed to know a lot of names.

Wren turned and went through another set of doors that opened into yet another ward. How big was this place? He didn’t remember seeing anything like this in eternity’s heart.

“Damn,” he said. “Where did all these people come from?” He did a turn in one row to look back the way they had come. “There must be five or six hundred injured. How many were in the final fight?”

“Close to ten thousand,” Wren said. “More than two thousand were from Nonna’s personal retinue. Thor and Sif brought two legions of Asgard elites. Many of the Shael Dal have small armies of their own. After you, uhhh…retired from the fight and pointed the way, it didn’t take long to throw everything at them.”

“Your last hit was truly worthy,” Idun remarked, trailing after them with her hands behind her back. She nodded to a pair of young-looking valkyries dressed in red who bowed to her. “It was a hammer-strike that they were still recovering from when we fell on them.”

“So, does that mean the Baronians are out of the fight?” he asked.

“Quite a few escaped,” Euriel said. “They were on the retreat though and not falling back to muster. Their threat is greatly diminished, and most of the ships they were using to evade us were seized.”

“That’s something I suppose,” he murmured.

Out another pair of double doors they entered a short passage that opened out after only a ten paces. A bluish light bathed the area at the end and the air grew warmer as they approached the threshold. Music, conversation, and a whole host of different sounds grew audible.

They stepped out into an expanse at least five hundred paces on a side. The exit lay on the bottom-most tier of series of terraces each more than a hundred paces wide stair-stepping up into the distance. The counter-strike army was sprawled throughout the vast space. Some ate and chatted in the large dining areas, others lounging amongst arrays of couches placed around the bowl of the chamber. Bannor caught sight of barracks areas through open doorways in the terrace walls.

Wren lead them out onto the floor past a group of a dozen or so soldiers sharing battle experiences. The men and women, most of whom looked like veteran warriors from campaign tattoos on their faces and shoulders, saluted their group as they walked by.

They turned and climbed a ramp up to a terrace where hundreds of Kriar artifices of various sizes and shapes had been set up. An airy rhythmic sound, that vaguely reminded Bannor of music, chimed and tittered above the hums and rumbles of the machinery. Glowing strands bigger than Bannor’s wrist were strung along the floor connecting many of the different apparatuses together. A dozen of the tables and cylinders like in Wysteri’s treatment room were arranged in two rows adjacent the ramp. Eladrazelle, Marna’s friend from Fabrista homeworld was there along with Octavia, Wysteri, Mercedes, and the two combat healers from the T’Evagduran subnet. A handful of valkyries and Kriar seargas were helping to treat several critically injured people.

Something that looked like the gate they had entered the Daergon enclave through stood to one side, blue mist trailing down onto the platform around it. Several Kriar warriors sat in elaborate chairs around the eerie machine, staring into glowing crystals displaying unfamiliar symbols and pictures.

Side by side, Marna and her daughter Dulcere, sat in similar chairs off a little ways from the big portal machine, their gold faces illuminated by what they were looking at. Gaea, Senalloy, Dominique, Cassandra, the gold twins and their giant black-haired mates stood behind them looking over their shoulders.

Wren pushed that direction. Bannor noticed some of the Kriar pausing momentarily to glance at him. Some put hands to weapons but obviously determined him to not be a threat.

As they stepped up, the frowning face of a male Kriar was looking out of the crystal in front of Marna. He had the look of some kind of government official from the little bit of his clothing that Bannor saw in the picture. Lips pinched tight, dark eyes narrowed, he spoke in harsh tones that didn’t require translation for Bannor to understand their meaning.

“…Counsel Braegor,” Marna said, in a voice that sounded calm but forced. Though the actual words were in the Kriar speech, Bannor understood them through the shaladen. “Counter accusations are a waste of time. You should instead focus on answering why the outlawed weapon, Garfang, was spotted on properties owned by you, along with quite a large number of Daergon insurgents and Baronian spies.” She rubbed her hands together and tilted her head. “You can disavow any knowledge or connection to them, but I assure you, such a connection is being documented as we speak. That proof will be presented to the Kriar High Judiciary as well as the Guardian Triumvirate. My advice would be to cooperate in this investigation and seek leniency. You can fall hard alone, or share the blame and take whatever windfall you can negotiate. It is your choice.” She paused. “Oh yes, a last thing, Braegor. Tarkath Diliaysus and Tarkath Shargris are currently working under my employ and rest assured they know exactly where you are. It might be easier if you just turned yourself over to them. Shortly after the report of Garfang’s sighting, I granted eternals access to Homeworld. They have been given white seal authority to police criminals associated with this issue, so there’s a possibility some of them could show up on your doorstep…”

Braegor’s gold face paled but he kept his belligerent expression. The words he snarled in response were not flattering. Bannor saw all of the observers save Gaea and the D’klace twins stiffen, especially Dominique who gripped the back of Marna’s chair with white knuckled hands.

Marna didn’t turn a hair at his blistering rhetoric. “Three kilorevs, Counselor. After that, your fate is out of your hands.” She touched a crystal and the image of the Braegor winked out to be replaced by symbols and diagrams.

“Arrogant wight! I’ll rip out his eyes,” Dominique growled. “How dare he say that to you!”

Marna raised a finger. “Dom, you will do no such thing. I appreciate your desire to defend my honor, but oratory abuse from such parasites troubles me not at all.” She reached out and punched a few crystals on the board in front of her.

In an instant, Eclipse’s serious face appeared in the crystal. “Vatraena?” he said in his deep voice.

“Eclipse, I just put a fire under Councilor Braegor.”

“Understood, we’re standing by,” he responded.

“Stay in the light,” she praised.

Eclipse nodded and faded from view.

“Interesting,” Gaea said with a smile. “Then things are going as you expect?”

Marna swung around in the chair which swiveled, and put a hand on Dominique’s arm. She rubbed the woman’s shoulder and the lady’s steely expression softened. “Well,” she answered. “It’s still early. The other councilors who accepted Braegor’s payoffs are now backpedaling. I’m going to let the divisive nature of traitors do a little work and see who feels the heat.” She focused toward him. “Bannor, your appearance is well timed. I assume you want out of Daergon Rhajgon?”

“You assume correctly, Milady,” he answered.

“Well, I brought my mentor Eladrazelle here for the express purpose of taking care of that for you. A few officers from the Kriar Judiciary are going to be present when she extracts Rhajgon’s critical information. That will take only a short time, after that Gaea informs me she can get you and our Daergon guest sorted out. I would rather like to have Rhajgon alive and in hand.”

“It’s not trivial, but it is doable,” Gaea said.

“If it will help,” he said. “You know I’ll do it.” He folded his arms and looked toward the crystal that she had been speaking into. “So, was that person you were speaking to the author of all our trouble?”

Marna glanced back. “Braegor?” She pursed her lips. “He is more facilitator than author. He doesn’t have the imagination or courage that this plan would have required. This whole thing with the Daergons and Baronians has bothered me from the start. Surr’s position was always to demonstrate Kriar strength—to rely on outsiders like this couldn’t have been put forth by any of his true followers. That’s what I’m hoping Rhajgon will reveal.”

<The driving force behind this whole affair,> Dulcere added, turning away from whatever she’d been doing in front of the console. <I completed my survey. The system reports that one hundred sixty one personal access nodes dropped off the net at the time of the explosion. That’s a devastating blow to Daergons. That’s more than half of their loyalists.>

“It’s crippling,” Marna remarked, eyes going narrow. “However, until we do like Koass says, get the head of the snake, they’ll find other sympathizers and rebuild.”

“Well, if it’s possible that I can lead you to that key person, perhaps we should get started.”

“Indeed,” Marna said. “ ‘Cere, coordinate with Eladrazelle, I want whatever Rhajgon knows as soon as possible.”

The daughter of the Vatraena rose from her seat and nodded to her mother. She gestured Bannor ahead of her toward the area where Eladrazelle and the mecha healers were working.

Gaea and Senalloy followed him. The others who had accompanied him trailed after, obviously curious about the whole matter.

“How is Corim, Sen?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Fine,” the silver-haired Baronian answered. “A bit disgruntled at being chained to the bed.”

“Chained?”

“He refused to stay put and rest,” she answered. “So, I shackled him to the bed with a spell. He’s been whining at me to come let him lose.”

“You shouldn’t tease him,” he chided.

“Who’s teasing?” She grumbled. “He almost died, he needs to rest even if his wounds are healed. Thank you for saving him, by the way.”

“Sen,” he said with a frown. “Thanks are hardly necessary. He’s a comrade. He would do the same for me. He saved Vera. I save him. That’s how it works.”

“Well, I’m thankful it works that way,” she said with a grin.

“That sentiment works for me too,” Wren added. “Dane and I—” She looked to the younger woman, who looked back. “All of us really, would have died if you hadn’t come up with something to stop Garfang and get us out of there.”

“Dumb luck,” he mumbled. “I almost blew us all to pieces. If Koass and Nethra hadn’t been ready, we all would have died. There would have been nothing left.”

<Don’t dwell on it,> Dulcere advised, giving him a meaningful expression, her dark obsidian eyes gleaming. The Kriar Belkirin led them to the far side of the area where the healers were working.

Eladrazelle sat at one of the devices much like the one Marna had been using. <Lady Delarn,> she greeted the elder Kriar. <Mother said she’d like you to take care of Bannor as soon as you can.>

Eladrazelle, looking tiny in her huge chair peered up at Dulcere. She brushed back her hair and frowned. <Dulcere, how many times have I said you don’t need to be formal with me? Zelle is fine with me.>

Dulcere drew a breath. <Please.>

The older Kriar hopped out of her chair, and came over to Bannor, looking him up and down. She then glanced to Gaea and smiled. <This is going to be fascinating…>

Fascinating wasn’t the word Bannor would have used…

Return to Contents

Chapter Thirty-Four

Marna started as a great student and
later became a better friend. The millennia
have been kind to us, and many are the
fascinating and exciting discoveries we have
made together. Her latest experiment with
Gaea’s children promises centuries of
interesting research…
—Eladrazelle Delarn,
Fabrista High Council Advisor
(retired)

Bannor stood looking around, feeling uncomfortable around the array of Kriar artifices. Marna’s friend, smallish Eladrazelle, rubbed her hands together, face lit-up like she were contemplating attending a feast. Wren, Ziedra, and Daena stood nearby, casting shadows over the little Kriar. In their ascendant bodies they looked huge compared to slim elfin lady. Even Gaea who was only a little taller than average, seemed big. Euriel and Idun were the only ones she didn’t have to look up at.

Dark eyes sparkling, she met each of their eyes. <Yes, yes, fascinating,> the elder Kriar mused. <All of you, not just Bannor. Now, as to Marna’s little task…> Her thought trailed off as turned and examined the area with hands on hips. All the other facilities were occupied with injured in various states of repair. <No sense in disturbing Octavia when we have all this work space.> She pulled what looked like a wand off her side and pointed to an open section of floor.

A green light lanced out from one of the boxes along the wall of the terrace and stitched back and forth with a whining sound over the spot where Eladrazelle had pointed. Beginning at the floor and rising, a diagnostic table like the others materialized in a spinning shower of sparks. She pointed again and in less than a breath a healing chamber also came into being.

“I don’t care how many times I see it,” Ziedra said behind him. “That is totally wizard. Those machines can make nearly anything you can think of.”

<I prefer a good chef over what food the converters make though,> Eladrazelle remarked, fiddling with the buttons and controls on the diagnostic table. <Marna invited me to join her at Loric’s a few times. That young lady Vera has a divine gift for cooking.> Gems all around the table began blinking. <Ah yes, connected, configured, and on line.>

<‘Cere call Nethra and have her approve entry for judge Vraedan, and judge Jhorsis. They are standing by as witnesses. We have to do this so no claims of tampering can be offered as excuses when what Bannor knows is recorded.>

Dulcere nodded and closed her eyes, obviously focusing.

Eladrazelle glanced to the rest of her audience. <The way we acquired Daergon Rhajgon is quite fortuitous. The rest of Daergons no doubt assume he is dead because Bannor is not accessing his encrypted link to his memories. So, we’ll pull all the data at once, so if someone does catch on and shut it down, we’ll have the least chance of missing something vital.>

“Isn’t that a lot of information?” Gaea asked.

<It is,> Eladrazelle agreed. <However, I don’t plan to loop it through Bannor as that might be a bit—unpleasant.>

“Thank you,” he murmured.

<Lady D—> Dulcere stopped herself. <Zelle, the judges should be here directly.>

Eladrazelle focused on Dulcere and nodded. <Good. Now, while we’re waiting for the judges, please set up a secure data path to my estate on a private gate node and patch it in here. Get Shivva online and have him mobilize my entire subnet for infiltration detection. Use code word Cerebrus. Have them signal me when they are tied in, I’ll give them the loop node information.>

The daughter of the Vatraena nodded. She pulled a box off her side, punched something on it, and held it out in front of her. A thin line of green light stabbed out from that same spot on the terrace, tracing back and forth in a sparkling dance of creation, bringing into being another artifice that had a seat and one of those viewing crystals. She punched a few times on the hand held mechanism, and held out her arm. The green light flashed, describing circles around her arm and depositing several loops what looked like strands of shiny glass rope.

These clear cords she strung along the floor, attaching the ends between the diagnostic table and the new machine.

<Sen, get me some power please,> Dulcere asked the silver-haired Baronian lady.

The tall lady swung around and went to another device nearby, opened a panel, and pulled out some black cords that she inserted in receptacles in the device’s side and played out along the floor and plugged in to spots on the side of Dulcere’s apparatus.

A flash near the center of the field below heralded the arrival of the two Kriar judges. The two Kriar, a male and a female were accompanied by four soldiers in heavy armor. The newcomers had the stiff postures of figures who conducted themselves with extreme formality. Dressed in simple black and silver coats with the gold Fabrista emblem over the breast the two strode forward across the field. Hair slicked back and knotted, clothing creased and spotless, both judges wore hard, unyielding expressions that were anything but friendly.

“Your judges appear to be here,” Gaea remarked. “They don’t look happy.”

Eladrazelle looked up. <Excellent.> The lady healer shrugged. <As to them being happy… if Bannor has the information I think he does, a very large number of Kriar are going to be receiving the harshest punishment our system permits. That is not a happy circumstance.>

Gaea nodded.

The judges and their entourage of guards proceeded up the ramp and came into their work area. The guards formed a perimeter, obviously to secure it while the judges did their business.

The male judge was introduced as Vraedan, a tall long-faced Kriar, with thin lips and a slash of a nose. Jhorsis, the female, had an uncharacteristically thick body, her wide face with its upturned eyes and broad mouth just attractive enough to be dignified. They both greeted Eladrazelle with grave expressions, the dip of their heads and the tone of their thoughts showing the utmost respect.

Bannor realized that while no hint of it had been given, Eladrazelle was obviously someone of huge importance on Homeworld. He guessed that made sense, given how the matriarch of all Kriar regarded her so highly.

With the judges looking on, Dulcere and Senalloy created an incomprehensible array of Kriar magic, including a smaller version of the portal device that was set up further down the terrace. Eladrazelle followed a separate agenda, creating, activating, linking and adjusting a plethora of smaller units, many of which attached to the things that the other two set up. The judges did not assist or interfere in any of the work, but they examined everything, asking questions at times concerning a whether a certain protocol or security measure had been observed. Each and every detail was documented with extreme formality and gravity.

“I don’t know what any of it does,” Gaea remarked. “But it is certainly fascinating to watch them build it.”

“To be honest, I find it scary,” Wren said at her shoulder. “I don’t think that’s changed since Marna got an agent into Starholme.”

“What would be scary is if they were all against us,” Ziedra said, looking around. “As it is, those Daergons have made our lives miserable.”

“Retribution is around the corner,” Idun said in her echoing voice. “I can feel it.”

“I hope so, Mother,” Euriel said. “By Yggrasil, I never thought I would hear myself say that I was tiring of battle, but I dare I have had my fill of late.”

“If there’s a way to end this thing, I swear I’ll find it,” Bannor rumbled.

Eladrazelle finished something she was doing and stopped by him. The two judges looked on from behind her. <Taking Garfang away from the Daergons was a good start,> she told him. She touched his arm and continued poking at a device she cradled in her arm. <Though I am saddened by the loss of life, the destruction of that enclave may be enough to shake their determination. It will bring back memories of the loss of life when they pulled us into the war with the Jyril. I am still stunned that they are so foolish to court the same or worse by dealing with the Baronians.>

<Lady Delarn,> Judge Vraedan intoned. <That collaboration has not yet been proved.>

The elder Kriar looked over her shoulder and frowned. <We have evidence and it will be brought to the court—trust me.>

“What I trust is those Daergons are frelling insane,” Daena growled, gripping her auburn hair. “To use that genemar thing…” She held her hands out, fingers curved into claws. “It’s—just—” She sputtered to a stop apparently unable to find a word strong enough.

<Ambition and revenge are often challenges to sanity,> Eladrazelle agreed. She turned to Dulcere who was stepping up with Senalloy behind her. <How does it look?>

<The line passed level nine certification,> Dulcere answered, handing the device in her hand to Eladrazelle. The elder studied something flashing on the crystal, then passed the item to Judge Vraedan who looked at it for a moment, before passing it to Jhorsis. The lady judge examined the display then passed it back to Dulcere. Both Kriar made notes on their artifices.

<Your subnet is on standby,> Dulcere stated, obviously both for Eladrazelle and the judges. <The data stores and redundant backups are tested and working. We are set.>

The elder Kriar nodded. She focused on Senalloy who was standing at Dulcere’s shoulder. <Very good, thank you for your assistance in this matter, Lady Senalloy.>

The silver-haired Baronian tipped her head and smiled.

“This sure is a big production,” Bannor said, looking around at all humming machines, crystals blinking and flashing. “I hope it’s worth all the effort.”

<Oh, I think it will be,> Eladrazelle told him with a smile. She glanced back at the judges. <That’s why I’m sparing no expense to make sure we get it all and that what we get is not compromised.> The elder Kriar stepped over to diagnostic table and patted the surface. She made a coming gesture to him. <Bannor, your part has arrived. So, if you would please hop up on the table and lie back; we can get started.>

“You’re the boss,” he said.

<I’m the boss’ close friend,> Eladrazelle corrected, as he climbed up on the table and lay back. <And I want to get this right for her.> She pulled blue cords out from the sides of the table, attached disks to them and pressed them to Bannor’s cheeks and forehead.

She looked back to them, obviously explaining for their sake and that of the judges observing. <I’m going to fish the encryption keys from his memories, and then use a decoy receiver to siphon the data.> She put a hand on his arm. <Relax Bannor, this should be one of the least painful things you’ve been through recently…>

She continued make adjustments in the table, verifying settings and making sure the judges took note of them.

<Now, I’m going to place this over your eyes.> She pulled out a curved silver object that looked similar to a mask worn at parties only there were no eye holes. It appeared suspiciously similar to the device he wore to get the quick teach.

He held up his hand to stop her. “No headache, right?”

The Kriar lady grinned. <I promise.>

Bannor settled back as she placed the thing over his eyes, and busied herself.

“We’ll get this over with,” Gaea said her echoing voice soothing through him. She rubbed his arm, making his whole body tingle. “I’ll get you back in an appropriate body so you can be with Sarai.”

“Good,” he murmured.

The inside of the mask lit up, showing in it a confusion of Kriar writing that the shaladen translated but still made no sense to him. In moments, the writing was replaced by fluctuating patterns that shifted, pulsed and changed, altering their shape, color, and movement.

<Do you see the patterns, Bannor?> Eladrazelle asked.

“Yes.”

<Now, I will lock a focal point.> The image became a series of loops of red brocade lace fashioned as though following the edges of a flower bloom. <What color do you see?>

“Red.”

The image turned and became blue.

“Blue.” It shifted again. “Green.”

<Excellent,> the Kriar elder thought with firm confidence. <Now, I want you to imagine that pattern in your head, when you have it, I want you to turn that shape white.>

He had no problem with visualizing patterns. He projected the green pattern inward, and once there began shifting its color toward white. After a moment he paused in surprise—it didn’t want to be white. How could a pattern not want something? It was simply a shape projected on a crystal inside a mask.

It was like wrestling, as he would shift one of the petals of the flower shape toward white, another section would alter its hue. It finally took him imagining each extension being gripped and willing the color to shift.

The color snapped into place, as it did so it made his whole body twitch and an icy sensation made his skin crawl.

<Well done,> Eladrazelle said. <I have a few more for you to do. Take each pattern, as you see it, then project and force it to change white.>

He didn’t know what all this had to do with anything but did as instructed, grappling with each shape and altering its color. Each success made that icy feeling rush through him. The first few took effort, but he learned the trick of it, and they grew easier.

<There!> Eladrazelle exclaimed. <‘Cere! That’s it! Pull!>

<Engaged,> Dulcere acknowledged. <Starting download.>

The table under Bannor vibrated and grew warm under his back, a cold tingling shot through the gems at his waist, collarbone, and forehead. The shapes he had been watching in the mask broke up into a blizzard of whizzing white, gray, and black dots.

“Data stream is locked,” Senalloy said. “Primary and redundant stores are recording, the subnet is engaged and actively cycling the ciphers.”

<Keep your eyes on it, both of you,> the elder Kriar said. Bannor felt her lay a cool hand across his forehead. <Feel okay?> she asked him.

“Feel strange,” he mumbled.

<Bear up, it won’t take long,> she replied. To the other two she said, <Tell me if you see even the slightest spike in the data, any kind of slowdown or speedup.> He heard her leave his side and some rapid clunking and clicking of objects. <Senalloy, sync in this tertiary data-store. The moment I give you the word I want you to disconnect it.>

“Understood,” the Baronian lady said in cool voice. “Flash data copy in progress.”

<Good.>

<Nidomma,> Dulcere declared. <Upload speed just spiked out of spec.>

<Sen, cut the tertiary loose and isolate.>

“Done,” the Baronian said.

The sparkling in Bannor’s mask went black and the tingling in his body stopped.

<Transfer is complete,> Dulcere informed. <Disconnecting the data stores.>

<Belay that!> Eladrazelle ordered. <Leave them on-line, instruct Cerebrus to back off a bit. Let them in.>

The Belkirin’s thought rang hard. <Pardon?>

<Bait,> Eladrazelle declared. Bannor heard her rub her hands together. <Monitor that data, I want to know the instant anything is changed.>

Moments passed. Bannor lifted the mask off his eyes, removed the cords attached to his face and body, and sat up. The judges stood rooted, gazes intent as they stood behind Dulcere observing whatever she was doing.

He felt the tension in the air and his hearts thumped even though he didn’t really understand what was going on. Eladrazelle was challenging the Daergons in her own way; waging a battle of artifices and information. Dulcere and Senalloy sat hunched forward in front of the display crystals, fingers flickering over the many controls of the devices, studying the symbols that flew by.

Little Eladrazelle, pushed past Judge Vraedan and leaned over Dulcere’s shoulder, gaze intent as she studied everything the younger Kriar did.

<There!> Dulcere slammed a finger down on a control. <Corruption starting.>

<Mark it,> Eladrazelle ordered. <Try to stop them, but don’t try too hard. I want to know what they change and in what order. Sen, bring up an isolated system and track ‘Cere’s queue.>

The three women worked together in close concert calling out and acknowledging as they ‘pursued’ the enemy through the system, almost but not quite catching them.

After about a breath, Eladrazelle drew a finger across her throat. <Cut them off, break the link.>

Senalloy thumbed a button on her console. “Done.”

Eladrazelle sighed and puffed out her cheeks. <That went better than I hoped.>

The judges stepped back with grave expressions on their faces. It was obvious neither of them liked what they had seen.

“I don’t understand,” Bannor said. “It sounded like you just let them change and delete a bunch of the information.”

<I let them alter copies of the information,> Eladrazelle responded, putting a hand on Dulcere’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. The younger female looked up and smiled, obviously fond of elder woman. <With that amount of information it might take us days or weeks to sift through it for something vital. In that time, it might no longer be useful.> The Kriar lady laced her fingers and pressed her lips to them. <Using the information in the third copy, a simple comparison between it and the other two will reveal exactly what was deleted or changed. Those alterations will pinpoint the information they consider the most dangerous to them. That analysis can be done in a day or so and give us sufficient time to strike before they can cover their tracks.> She glanced to the judges. <It was also useful to have our observers witness the break-in.>

“Clever,” Gaea lauded.

<Indeed clever,> Judge Jhorsis remarked, her thoughts sounding cold and disappointed. <I cannot say that I am anything other than appalled by these events. If the information was not damning, they would not have attacked the datastore. The evidence has not been verified, but I suspect it will check out. I will return to my chambers and await the findings. I will publish any and all necessary edicts pursuant to my analysis.>

Eladrazelle bowed to the judge.

Judge Vraeden rubbed his face. If anything he looked even more unhappy than Jhorsis. <This really is unthinkable. Edicts against council members? Have we learned nothing?>

<Apparently not,> Dulcere growled the thought.

The two judges said a few words of parting, gathered their guards, and left the way they had come.

Arms folded, Gaea watched them go. “No offense,” she said. “But I am somewhat glad to see those two go. They made me—itchy.”

<They have been protecting some of these people,> Eladrazelle said with a frown. <Allowing them to hide behind our laws. There are implications to such things, and fallout that can be very unfavorable for a large number of people.>

Bannor shook his head. The conspiracy was even bigger than they imagined, and something that would obviously be a huge blow to the citizens of Fabrista Homeworld.

Gaea changed the subject. “So I take it then that everything you needed this body for is done? I can get Bannor sorted out?”

<Yes,> Eladrazelle said. <I had Octavia redesign Bannor’s body based on what we’ve learned from the other savants, especially since his original body is gone. The assembler has been working on it since we started building the data extraction interface.> She gestured them to follow and headed over toward the healing chamber.

Bannor hopped off the diagnostic table and walked over with the others. The chamber that had been unoccupied earlier now had an occupant. The form inside resembled the one that Marna made on Homeworld with some subtle differences. The muscle structure looked less exaggerated and the face looked closer to what he used to see in the mirror. The shaggy mop of dark hair more closely resembled his original as well.

“It’s a more you you,” Daena said with a grin.

“It’s still too tall,” he mumbled. “All the elves looked at me funny to begin with. Why does it have to be the size of a tree?”

“Excuse me?” Daena said, tapping him on the shoulder. “Tree?”

“You can change your shape,” he grumbled. “It doesn’t matter what size your native shape is.”

“He’s right, Dane,” Wren said. “We have the potential to do the things you do, but you inherited a lot of powers from Hella that will take us summers to learn.”

Daena snorted. “Hmph. I still don’t like being called a tree.”

“And I love every one of your branches,” Gaea said with warm smile. She gazed intently at the body for a few moments. “It seems adequate to me.” She focused on Eladrazelle. “How shall we proceed?”

<Now that the assembler over there is free,> she pointed. <We’ll have Bannor set Rhajgon in the cylinder and we’ll secure him, because when he wakes up, he will be a handful. He is a Belkirin class warrior. You remove Rhajgon’s spirit and hold on to it, Bannor vacates. He can exist unattached for some time, correct?>

“Yes,” Gaea answered. “A bell or more.”

<How long will Rhajgon stay intact without Bannor maintaining him?>

“I will keep him alive long enough to do the switch,” Gaea said.

<All right then,> Eladrazelle determined. <Let us proceed.>

“Bannor, there is one caveat to all this,” Gaea said. “The process of destroying your original body and forcibly tearing yourself out of the sword has severely injured your core. Once I fix you in the new body, you should not try any astral tricks until fully healed. The link to the body will be tenuous and it will be difficult to resync without outside assistance.”

“I understand,” he replied. “I’m ready.”

Eladrazelle led him over to the other chamber and he climbed in.

“All right, my Son,” Gaea said. “My turn.” She placed a green hand over his chest and bowed her head. A pulse of magical energy thrummed around the All-mother’s body and her skin began to gleam. The entire giant dome overhead dimmed as the goddess summoned her power.

She contained it so well it was easy to forget the awesome energies that Gaea possessed. He felt her presence expand and engulf him. It felt like a wind blowing through his nola.

Gaea stroked a glowing hand down the length of his body. As goddess’ fingers trailed over his skin, a grayish ‘cloud’ collected in her palm, the nebulous substance swirling into a ball that grew in size as she made three circuits back and forth.

She brought her hands together on either side of the flickering shape and sparks whirled around it, forming a white skin of light around the shadowy substance. “There,” she said. “Got him.” She grimaced. “Not such a nice fellow.”

Bannor eyed the gray spirit essence. “Why is it dark like that?”

“Obviously because he is a villain,” Idun said.

“Dark with his deeds to be certain,” Eladrazelle remarked. She focused glittering black eyes on Gaea with an earnest expression of respect. “That was amazing, Mother Gaea. As far as we have advanced, there’s still so much to learn.”

The goddess smiled. She relaxed the crackling aura of strength around her.

“Bannor, see if you can pull yourself out of there.”

He started to comply and moved to get more comfortable. Pushing against the side of the cylinder the reflection of his left hand caught his attention. The shaladen. He couldn’t leave that on Rhajgon.

He held up his arm that had become entangled with Garadhyr. “Uh, I better fix this first.”

Gaea nodded. “Ah, yes, you’re right.”

He took a few breaths, bracing himself. This would hurt. Gritting his teeth, he willed the weapon to once again become a sword. Shafts of pain raked through him as the magical metal oozed out of the pores of his skin and slowly reformed into a blade. He grunted, breath hissing through his teeth as he held in a scream. After what seemed like an eternity the shaladen had separated itself. He fell back with a gasp, chest heaving.

“Urrgh,” he groaned. “Ugh.”

The women were all staring at him, grimaces of empathy on their faces. Gaea put a hand on his arm. “Aie, my Son, that had to have been—uncomfortable.”

“I felt it and it wasn’t even my arm… Ow.” Daena empathized.

“It—” He let out a hurt gust of air. “It’s not—something—I’ll be doing again any time soon. Ugh.”

“I bet,” Wren said grimacing. “Garadhyr,” she spoke the shaladen’s name. “Please allow me to touch you.” A glimmering sparked around the weapon and the blonde ascendant lifted it out of the case. She transformed the weapon into a band on her arm. “I’ll hold onto it until Sarai is awake.” Wren leaned down. “You going to be okay?”

He nodded. “Give me a moment.” He shuddered and blew out another breath. “Damn, that hurt.” It took a few moments more to master himself. “Okay, now to get back in my own body.” He focused down into himself, into the symbol of his core tracery and true essence. He twisted and squirmed, finding it hard to get free. It was like raw skin that had healed wrong. Gaea was right, he had forced things and embedded himself in this Kriar’s form. It would take more tearing of his core to get free again.

Pushing and shoving, he finally did get free with a rip that made his whole nola convulse and flicker. He immerged into the light of the chamber above Rhajgon’s body—a horrid sense of aching that felt like he was bleeding.

He looked down, the Kriar warrior Rhajgon lay in the healing cylinder. The gold-skinned male had a sharp countenance with a harsh bent evident even when at rest as he was now. Bannor understood now why people had reacted as they did. He did look mean.

A convulsion shot through his ephemeral body. <Argh,> he moaned. He really must have hurt himself pulling loose.

“Oh, that wasn’t good,” Wren murmured. “I felt that and it wasn’t me.”

<No—> he struggled to focus. His view of the world grew fuzzy. Could a tao form actually bleed to death? He might not actually be dying but it sure felt like it.

<Fascinating,> Eladrazelle said, openly marveling at Bannor. <Marna told me about this, but I hadn’t yet seen it for myself.> She cast her gaze back to Rhajgon and her expression hardened. The elder Kriar undid the seals to a pouch on her side and pulled out something small and cylindrical that gleamed in the reflected light of the gathering area. She closed her fingers around it, and stepped to the head of the case containing the enemy warrior.

He needed to get in a body. This couldn’t be right. He turned away and started to drift over toward his prepared body.

“No Bannor—stop,” Gaea ordered. “I know you’re uncomfortable, please wait a moment. Sen, Dulcere, secure Rhajgon’s body.”

Senalloy and Dulcere used the straps in the device to lock down the Daergon’s arms, legs, throat, and forehead. Special glowing bands were clamped around his wrists.

<That should keep Rhajgon from using his plasma blade, teleportation, or time powers.> Dulcere said to Gaea. <Go ahead.>

The goddess took the wide globe of shadow stuff that was Rhajgon’s spirit and shoved it down into the form of the Daergon warrior.

A greenish aura snapped around the Kriar, sparks rasping and clicking. After a dozen heartbeats, his back arched, and the male gasped for breath. His star mottled eyes went wide. He groaned and jerked side-to-side against the restraints.

<What? What’s—> he demanded.

Eladrazelle shoved the cylinder against his neck with a hissing sound.

The movements of the twisting, struggling warrior immediately slowed, and after a few more heartbeats his body went lax.

<We can deal with him later,> the elder Kriar said. <Gaea you can proceed without distractions.>

The goddess nodded to her. “My thanks.” She turned to Bannor, and beckoned with her arms. “Come to me.”

He drifted over until he was a short distance from the All-mother.

Gaea frowned at him. She made a ‘come here’ hooking motion with her finger.

Bannor leaned in closer. What did she want him to do? He wasn’t solid. Especially not now, he felt so weak. It was surprising he had enough strength to project a visible form at all.

Gaea gathered him in as though he were flesh and blood, pulling Bannor into a hug that sent a cascade of sparks through the misty essence of his nola.

“Silly, Boy,” Gaea said in a soothing voice. “Do you think I will hurt you?”

He didn’t answer. It was a relief simply for the pain to go away. Unlike other creatures, Gaea felt ‘solid’ to him as though both of them were flesh. Bannor felt the all-mother’s essence enfold and draw him in.

“You have taken so much on yourself, my Son,” Gaea said in a voice that made his whole being resonate. “The way you have persevered, adapted, and overcome, I could not be any more proud.” As she spoke, his vision and sensation grew more and more fuzzy. “Take your ease for a moment and let your Mother be with you…”

The last of her words faded out along with any sense of his surroundings.

***

The next instant that Bannor became aware he found himself in darkness with the sense of being submerged. He followed his instinct to push to the surface, rising through layers and threads of gray and black.

In moments, he felt the beat of his heart, and chilly touch of metal and composite. He took a deep breath of acrid air and opened his eyes. Everything in view was nothing but blobs of color, but he sensed others looking down at him. He swallowed and took another intake of air. He had flesh again and nothing hurt—two excellent developments.

He didn’t remember getting in the body Eladrazelle prepared. He guessed Gaea treated him.

He blinked again, taking deeper breaths, feeling the flesh waking up. After a few more moments, he was able to make out faces. Daena, Wren, Ziedra and Gaea were all looking down at him.

Bannor sighed. How many men got the pleasure of waking up to having four such breath-taking creatures smiling at them?

“Pray, what is that sigh and grin for?” Gaea asked.

“B—Beautiful,” he said, getting the word out after a second time. “All of you.”

“See, this is why he’s so popular,” Ziedra said with a smile.

Gaea brushed the hair off his forehead. “Zee and I had to work some magic on you, so be good and lay still a bit more. The injuries to your tao were not trivial. I will go look in on Sarai and Kalindinai for you.”

He let out a breath and nodded. He felt too weak to move anyway. While he experienced no pain, his arms and legs seemed as though barely connected.

The all-mother pressed a warm green hand to his chest. “Regain your strength, my Son. I will be back shortly.” She turned and walked away.

“How do you feel?” Daena asked.

“No pain,” he said. “Everything—is—fuzzy.”

“We had to fix the parts of his tao that allowed him to properly synchronize with a body,” Ziedra said, glowing magenta eyes fixed on him in empathy. “Between the sword and getting him out of Rhajgon, he was a mess.”

“As I understand it, Bannor, you need to take care of this body,” Wren said. “No Kriar joy forming, no astral travel, no nothing until you heal.”

He grunted. “I would love—love to never need to do any—any of that stuff again.” He sighed. His limbs felt so heavy and so did his eyes. “Sorry, I feel—feel so tired…”

“It’s okay, big guy,” Ziedra said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “We understand. You sleep a little.”

Bannor nodded and let the heaviness draw him down into a thick cottony drowse…

***

When Bannor next came aware, his back felt hot and something was draped over his chest. He blinked in the darkness realizing that he was in a bed with the sheets pulled up. A female body had fitted itself to him, snuggled in close to his shoulder blades, arms twined around his torso and neck.

For an instant, he experienced an irrational panic. What if it wasn’t Sarai? How did he get in a bed? Where was he?

He drew a calming breath, relishing the warmth, listening to his bed partner’s breathing. Lacing her fingers in his he sniffed her hand, breathing in the slightly salty scent.

Definitely Sarai.

Feeling a catch in his chest he disentangled himself from her, rolled over and pulled her his chest.

“Bannorrr…” She murmured, snuggling against him.

Just the sound of her voice made his heart tremble. He dipped his face into the curve of her neck and spent long moments reveling in the smell and warmth of her. Being close to Sarai, knowing she was alive, feeling her strong and vital. It made his chest ache.

“Mmmm?” Sarai murmured pulling back from him a little. He saw her glowing violet eyes open slightly in the dark. Her slim hand came up and brushed at the strands of his hair. She caressed his cheek, her thumb stroking the moisture from his eye. “My One,” she murmured. “I love you.”

His throat was almost too tight to speak. “And I you, Star.”

She pulled close, kissed his chest, and relaxed against him. In moments, she faded into sleep again.

Bannor lay in the darkness with his love snuggled against his chest. He wouldn’t have disturbed his wife-to-be for all the power and wealth in the universe. He wanted the peace and warmth to last as long as possible…

***

Something tickled Bannor’s nose. Then warm breath sighed against his closed eyelids.

“Mruh?” He grunted. It seemed like a decade since he had last slept so deeply. He realized that something heavy was on his stomach.

He blinked and realized Sarai was straddling him, her silvery hair falling down on his chest and teasing the skin of his face. She grinned at him. “Rise rise, my One.” Sarai leaned in and kissed him.

That was worth waking up for. He kissed her back. Simply seeing her smile was worth all the pain he had gone through. He reached up to pull her down, and she leaned back with a laugh.

“No, no, up!” she slid off him and pulled on his arm.

Bannor let Sarai pull him to a sitting position. He felt worlds better than he had. Dare he say—normal? He couldn’t really call it normal being in an ascendant form. It felt too good—too strong.

He looked around, Sarai had turned up the mage-lights. They appeared to be in some kind of suite, with walls of golden marble, large paintings of star-scapes and natural tableaus hung in jeweled frames on every wall. An archway led into a tiled area he guessed was a lavatory of some kind. Sprays of flowers had been set on the two vanities that bracketed the head of the large canopy bed they’d been sleeping in.

“I don’t know how,” she breathed. “But you managed to pull through again.”

He sighed and gazed into her violet eyes. “I managed because I had you to pull through for.”

She grinned, leaned in and kissed him again. “Come,” she said. “There’s a bath, let’s wash and go find out what’s going on. Unless you know?”

“I know the broad strokes,” he said. “I—mmmf.”

He stopped when she covered his mouth. “Tell me in the bath.”

She pulled him to his feet.

He stared down at her. Dressed only in the skin tight Kriar body stocking he noticed the baby had begun to show ever so slightly in her trim physique. She was still beautiful, or perhaps more so because of it. Without effort, he saw her in his nola sight, the reds and pinks of warm emotion flowing through her. Despite everything, they still had their baby and little Vhina appeared healthy and strong.

Bannor padded after his wife-to-be as she led him into lavatory even larger than the one at Green Run. The sunken washtub was the size of a small pond. It was already filled and eddies of steam rose off the surface.

Sarai stripped out of her suit and helped him out of his. Together the two of them slipped into the water, washing and cuddling as he explained what had happened during the time she was unconscious.

“You know,” she said, rinsing her face. “I can still feel Mother without the shaladen.” She paused and closed her mouth. Her voice continued in his mind, firm and clear. <The telepathy is still easy too.>

“Well, Mercedes told you strong telepathy was one of the gifts of that body, you just needed to train to use it. You grew so accustomed to it with the shaladen that you still know how.” He paused and focused on her. <It’s the same with me. See?>

She smiled. <I’ve really liked that you can’t go anywhere I can’t reach you. I’m happy we won’t lose that even when the shaladens are gone.>

<You know, I have a strong suspicion that the T’Evagdurans will remain honorary Shael Dal forever. Your family helped too much, and sacrificed too much to let you go. So even if it’s just for appearances you’ll be accorded the privileges of the Shael Dal if nothing else. I could be wrong of course, but I have some idea of how Koass thinks.>

Sarai stretched and rolled her shoulders, skin glistening in the misty air. <I wouldn’t bet against you.> She rose from the water, grabbed a towel from a rack, and started drying off. <You didn’t say. Where are we?>

<Still in Eternity’s heart, I imagine,> he answered. <There was this huge chamber where the whole assault force was bivouacked. This room is probably some other chamber from that.>

<Well, no worries,> Sarai told him. <I know my nosy sisters. They’ll have sensed I’m awake. I’m certain all your ‘siblings’ know you’re up, so one group or the other is bound to send someone to get us…>

They dried and dressed, finding all the facilities for both among the things in the room. Sarai had just tied her hair and he’d just finished lacing up his boots when someone thumped on the room door.

Bannor opened the door expecting Wren, Kalindinai, or possibly Senalloy. Instead, it was the imposing figure of eternal Koass. The immortal was not dressed in armor, but in a button-down black and silver surcoat. His long hair which was usually tightly braided, hung loose over his shoulders.

Surprised, Bannor lurched back a step, bowing his head and saluting. “Come in, Sir,” Bannor said, stepping aside.

Sarai shot to her feet from where she had been sitting. She bowed her head and saluted. She was a Shael Dal before being a princess, and they had not yet been released from their vows.

The eternal strode in and closed the heavy wooden doors behind him, filling the room with his commanding presence. He nodded to Sarai. “Bannor, Arwen T’Evagduran—” Koass said, putting his hands behind his back. “At ease, both of you.”

Bannor relaxed—a little. Though he had worked side-by-side with the eternals, being in situations like this still made him tense. Sarai seemed the same way.

“Sarai,” Koass said. “I trust you are feeling well?”

She nodded. “I am, thank you, Sir.”

“Well, while you two have been recuperating, things have been progressing.” He focused glowing white eyes on Bannor. He thumped Bannor on the shoulder with a heavy hand. “Son, I expected big things from you when I gave you Xersis, and you have not disappointed. My thanks, and that of the Protectorate. A key part of this whole operation was finding the right door and kicking it in. Well done. It’s not over, but we’re down to tying up loose ends.”

“Do we know yet who is at the root of the whole thing?” Sarai asked. “Is there someone whose arse we can kick? Or is it going to wind up being some nebulous conspiracy?”

“Well, Marna has cornered a council member that was backing the Daergons but neither she nor I feel he was a motivating force. We believe Rhajgon’s information will be the arrow that points us to the proper closet.”

“Good, as long we get to look the foul creature in the eye before they get whatever justice is demanded.”

“I can’t promise,” Koass said thoughtfully. “I know it would be fitting, not only for you, but for Gaea and all her children.”

Bannor steeled himself. “Sir, these are things you could have shared during a general meeting. Why did you come to us in private?”

The eternal met Bannor’s gaze for a moment and then looked away. He took a few steps back toward the door, his whole bearing stiff. He put his hands behind his back.

Bannor felt a chill go through him.

“Garfang,” Koass said, still facing away. “Bannor, I need to know. Is he still alive?”

He stared at the eternal’s back. “I—”

Koass turned around, glowing white eyes fixing on him. “Bannor don’t tell me you don’t know. Is he still alive or not?”

Sarai frowned and looked between them. If this were any other person she probably would have said something. This was the Advocate Eternal though, one of the most exalted beings in the universe.

“He’s still alive,” Bannor said.

Koass closed his eyes and rocked his head back. “I was fairly certain you’d say that, but was hoping you wouldn’t.”

“Sir, if you leave that creature alone, he’ll leave you alone. I destroyed the control the Daergons had over him.”

“Bannor,” Koass rumbled. “That creature nearly wiped out the Protectorate. To have it wandering around loose is pure foolishness.”

“He hates the Daergons far more than the eternals.”

“Irrelevant,” Koass said. “Bannor, I just need to know one thing.” The eternal glanced to Sarai and then back to him. “If you have to, can you find him?”

Bannor’s first instinct was to lie. Such a thing was pointless, the eternal would know instantly. “Yes—if I have to.”

Koass drew himself up. He took a breath. The answer didn’t seem to give him any comfort or satisfaction. “Good. It’s something I would rather not deal with now, but it’s one of those loose ends that we will eventually need to address.”

Bannor frowned and nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Finish dressing, I will wait for you in the corridor. We’re having a general assembly. Kalindinai is up and around, naturally she wants to see both of you…” He stepped out and closed the door behind him.

Neither of them said anything as they finished preparing and joined the eternal in the corridor. Outside it was a long hallway lined with dozens of other doors just like theirs.

“Was there an inn hidden somewhere in Eternity’s heart that I didn’t see?” Sarai said, looking around in wonder.

Koass glanced back at her. “One of the benefits of being in the Protectorate is the ‘Paradise Space’.” He waved his hand gesturing to the long hall. “Anything you want, within reason, can be created.”

“Anything?” Sarai said. “So, if I wanted a bouquet of flowers for my mother, they’d just appear?”

The eternal shrugged. “Think of Garadhyr and its tie to Eternity. Ask for that boon. Will it the way you would transform your shaladen.”

Sarai stopped and closed her eyes after a few instants a glow flickered around her. In a flash of multicolored motes, a huge spray of golden flowers appeared in her hands.

“Whoa,” Bannor said. “That’s like the creation ability Idun gave you in Gladshiem.”

Sarai looked down and the shining blooms and their bright green stems. “Nice.”

“Indeed,” Koass said with a nod. “The same method created these environs and the large adjoining space. Eternity’s heart is thousands of leagues across so there’s more than enough room to accommodate a wish or two.”

“I would guess,” Bannor murmured.

The rest of the walk was brief, the hall opened out into that same terraced area Bannor had been in before. It appeared that most of the several thousand soldiers had been moved out, making the space seem like a vast empty cavern echoing with the sound of their footsteps. Sarai gazed around the huge space in with wide eyes, silently marveling at the spectacle.

Koass followed the terrace wall for a few dozen steps before turning into another opening where a sizeable banquette hall had been set up. The design was similar to the hall that they had been using at Kul’Amaron, divided into terraces that made it easier for all to observe the central area. Buffets filled with various foods steamed at the back of the room, giving off a wonderful aroma of mingled meats and sauces. Bannor hadn’t felt his hunger, but that smell reminded him like a kick in the stomach.

It appeared that every one of the Kul’Amaron defenders was seated somewhere in the chamber, every Kriar, valkyrie, Baronian, and mecha. Seated together were the three noble families, the T’Evagdurans, Kergathas, and Felspars. Mingled among them were the Shael Dal and savants along with Marna, Dulcere, and Eladrazelle.

The Advocate Eternal gestured them toward Sarai’s family and proceeded down the steps to join eternals Garn, Nethra, and Foross who were standing in the central area.

Bannor peered around to see if Gaea was present and found the green goddess seated at the Kergatha table, lounging between Wren and Damay. He glanced over and rushed to keep up with Sarai who was already part way around the circle heading straight toward her mother.

They both greeted everyone as they passed, touching hands and nodding in response to the congratulations and welcomes. They finally arrived at the table reserved for the T’Evagdurans. King Jhaan nodded to them, his arm draped protectively around the Queen.

Bannor noticed that Kalindinai was not seated in a regular chair but was in some kind of artifice that hovered above the floor. She still looked a bit pale, but worlds better than she had been.

Sarai handed the flowers to him and leaned in to give her mother a hug. Kalindinai smiled for her daughter and patted her back. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” she said in a calm voice, heading off Sarai’s concern. “I just refused to lie in bed. It takes no energy to talk and listen to the briefing.”

His wife-to-be turned and took the flowers from him. “Here, some gold-blooms to celebrate the end of this thing.”

The Queen accepted the gift with a smile. “It might be a trifle premature, but the sentiment is certainly appreciated.”

Sarai and Bannor went around the table, trading hugs with all their close friends and family, settling down next to Ryelle, Janai, Daena, and Senalloy.

On the floor below, Koass did a slow turn, casting his gaze around the room. He raised his hands and bowed. When he spoke, his voice resonated through the room in a deep thrumming bass.

“To all gathered here, and those sharing in the telepathic broadcast being sent to those who could not be present—I salute your valiant efforts and contributions.” He drew a breath and seemed to collect himself. “This is our first general assembly. I have called this meeting to address recent events, establish our current situation, and acknowledge exemplary accomplishments. To start, tactical leader Garn will provide the battle analysis.” He turned to the massive blue-skinned eternal. “Garn.”

The huge burly eternal, topknot bobbing as he moved, stepped to the front as Koass stepped back.

Garn raised his fists, muscles standing out on his monolithic frame. “Listeners of the assembly,” he boomed in a rumbling voice. “There was a time when I feared that true strength of heart had fled Eternity, never to return.” He shook a fist. “Never was I more pleased to be proven wrong!”

“Booyah!” Tal shouted from the tier behind them.

Warriors around the chamber rattled the walls with foot-stomps in appreciation of the eternal’s show of enthusiasm.

Garn swung around. He rubbed his long mustaches. “The fight got off to a slow start.” He nodded and grinned. “Allow me to put it indelicately.” He made a thrusting hooking gesture with his fist. He made a fierce grin. “Oh yeah, we stuck it to them.” He looked around. “How does a sixty four percent attrition of the enemy sound, eh?”

There was a chorus of gasps around the chamber, Kriar and valkyries turning to one another.

Garn grinned. “You heard right. They had just under one point three million troops.” He swung around pointing with both hands. “We, with your assistance, and the aide of some support troops took out over half of them.”

He tightened his fist, knuckles cracking loud enough they were heard throughout the room. “That doesn’t mean there weren’t losses on our side.” He frowned. “A lot of good brave people died protecting Eternity. We lost twenty-three hundred souls. They lost roughly eight hundred thousand.” He sniffed. “If that’s not an arse kicking, I don’t know what is. In fact,” he pointed around the room. “In the history of large scale arse kicking,” He slammed a fist into his palm. “I can’t recall a group getting better schooled in what it means to gank the wrong people. Gentlemen,” he gestured to one side of the room. “Ladies,” he gestured to the other side. He put a hand over his heart and bowed his head. “I salute.”

The room hummed with energy as warriors murmured with disbelief. It was a result far beyond anyone’s expectations, even backed by the immense powers of the eternals.

Bannor looked to Sarai. “How did we kill eight hundred thousand—?”

Senalloy leaned down the table. “Well, this one guy fried like a hundred thousand of them by himself. Something about exploding a star in their barracks…”

The Baronian’s words rocked him back in his chair.

“A hundred—” he repeated.

“Thousand?” Sarai finished in a bewildered voice.

“That’s the guess,” Senalloy said. “We think there was a large chunk of command staff amongst them, so that really messed them up.”

“Shhh,” Koass shushed stepping forward and waving a hand at Senalloy. “We’ll get to the hows and whys.” He glanced back to Garn. “First, I want to make sure everyone knows that none of the Protectorate feel that any losses are trivial. The death of one, much less two thousand, is unacceptable. However, when aggressors seek to take lives, the only recourse is to fight back as has been so admirably done.” Koass looked around. “I wish I could say that this battle would end it, but I think everyone here knows better than that.” He gestured to Nethra, the fire-haired lady eternal. “Nethra, the strategic outlook please.”

Hands behind her back, the female stepped up and gazed around. “Good people,” she said, her voice not as loud or deep as Garn’s but still penetrating and strong. “Before I get to the more sobering parts, let me assure you that I am as enthused and proud of this group’s performance as I can be. The decision made by Koass, Garn, and myself to use non-elders as main surrogates has long been under attack. Granting field deputization powers was another decision heavily contested by the staid minds of the time council. The guardians hated the idea. Well, I can safely say—strategically speaking—that we would not be having this discussion right now if we had not stood our ground on these issues.”

The lady eternal sighed and gazed around. She pressed her hands together as she cast her gaze over the various people throughout the chamber.

“It is indeed gratifying to see our faith in the hearts of the young ones demonstrated so profoundly. To the youngsters, the elders, grand-elders, and my peers, to all of you, I give my congratulations and thanks.”

Nethra bowed her head. After a moment, she sighed and looked up. “Now, the part that is less rosy. A large part of our tremendous success was the enemy breaking its back to try to keep a time table. We saw numerous examples of hastily constructed strategies that generated horrible scenarios for them. They played this campaign with high risk, high reward tactics and I have to tell you…” She shook her head. “It just didn’t work for them, as we all well know. So—what now?” She glanced around. “Despite the huge number of warriors lost, it still leaves them with nearly half a million fight capable soldiers. What will those people do? Will they continue their agenda? In a word, yes. Do we expect an immediate reprisal? No. We found some evidence that suggests a large number of their highest ranking command staff were on-site when a rather large Kriar shield generating installation just happened to…” Her gaze fixed on Bannor. “Blow up.”

The red-haired eternal rubbed her throat. “While we’re on Bannor’s particular contributions to this conflict, I will mention two others. He took two rather formidable weapons away from the Daergons; both their genemar and their creation Garfang.” She pressed her lips to a line. “Another interesting windfall from Bannor’s participation was a rather graphic demonstration of ascendant strength. He hammered the dren out of a Baronian assault team and when they were down, he asked them to join him. They declined but—” She raised a finger. “It is my belief that word of that particular event spread through their ranks and resulted in a something we have heard little of…”

“Desertion,” Senalloy said.

“Desertion,” Nethra agreed pointing at the Baronian lady. “There are now a significant number of units not on task, and one of our plans going forward is to locate those rogue elements and make assets out of them if possible.” She paused. “In the short term, we must find and seize the genemar—or at least determine if it was destroyed. Next, we will attempt to isolate the entity that instigated this conflict. Lastly, we will track down what elements of the Baronian invasion we can and eliminate them if necessary. I anticipate that we will be able to stand down from high alert within the next 20 bells. I know many of you have serious personal obligations to attend to, and we will release you to address them as soon as we ascertain it is safe. All newly deputized Shael Dal will remain on alert status but in a reserve capacity until the threat particulars have been researched and evaluated.” She looked around again and shrugged. “That’s it, I can’t tell you much more yet.”

“Thank you, Nethra,” Koass said. He gestured to the Foross the blond male eternal who Corim and Aarlen served. “Foross has a few words about alliances.”

Jewels winking on his green satin surcoat, the eternal of shapes bowed and stepped forward. His voice was not a thunderous boom like Garn’s, or Koass’ penetrating timbre, it was instead a rolling smooth tenor that made the skin prickle.

“Garn and Nethra,” he said, “have given us some heartening facts. However, there are more important things in our lives than details.” He looked around. “There are loved ones, friends, and allies. Not all of us have someone close we want to protect, but there are none of us here that don’t feel the need to guard something precious to us. All of you have done an excellent job of defending each other and protecting interests that likely preserved an untold number of lives. One of the excellent things that came out of this crisis was the teamwork of Tarkath Chauser, Chosen Millicent, and Barona Vi.” He gestured toward the upper tiers. “Commanders if you would please stand.”

The Kriar Tarkath, the be-speckled valkyrie commander, and the red-haired Baronian lady stood, and looked around.

“With the support from Lady Idun and members of the Felspar and T’Evagduran families, these three leaders combined their units on short notice into a truly formidable force. With permission of Isis, Idun, and Vatraena, and of course the unit commanders themselves, we have submitted a charter to permanently form a combined forces legion that will train and further enhance their effectiveness as a fighting force.” Foross focused on the Kriar Tarkath. “Lord Chauser, did you and Millicent ever decide on a name?”

The Kriar leader shrugged and glanced at Millicent. <Honored, we haven’t had enough sleep to be creative. For the time being we were going to call ourselves the Sabre-wing Elite.>

A number of the valkyries in the top tier hooted and raised their hands.

“The Sabre-wings.” Foross smiled. “This new vanguard force will be receiving arms and equipment from the Protectorate. As a special vote of confidence, the commanders can cast votes for twelve Shael Dal deputizations among themselves and their unit members.”

Chauser leaned forward. <Kriar are included?>

A stir went through the normally placid Kriar soldiers.

Koass stepped forward. <Yes. Solidarity between the Kriar and Protectorate is essential now that we face a threat from the outside. The Vatraena and I discussed this at length, and it is a concession that will help bridge the differences that our peoples have experienced.>

The whole group of warriors murmured among themselves, no doubt stunned by the ramifications. Koass was doubling the number of Shael Dal, and the new inductees would be elders already powerful in their own right. It certainly didn’t sound to Bannor like the conflict was over.

“Whoa,” Daena breathed. “I didn’t see that coming.”

“Neither did I,” Bannor said. He looked to the King and Queen who wore contemplative expressions on their faces.

“Another situation arose during this crisis that has never come up before,” Foross continued. “Field deputizations. We granted all the beta rank Shael Dal field deputization powers. We had seven deputizations in all and most of those contributed in some major fashion. For their sacrifices in this conflict, the T’Evagduran family can remain as gamma class reservists or accept full beta class membership as each of them deems appropriate.”

Janai clapped her hands. “Veeg!”

Sarai looked to Bannor from the corner of her eye. “Think you’re pretty smart don’t you?”

He shrugged and grinned.

“The last issue that I will address,” Foross said, “concerns Gaea and pacts and promises that bound her, her children, and dasta Fabrista. Gaea unilaterally made a decision for Koass and members of Protectorate trading certain protections for resources unique to the Fabrista. While we have in no way regretted that agreement, Gaea left out a certain amount of quid pro quo…”

“You’re going to bind me in the general assembly, Koass?” Gaea said, leaning back in the chair with arms folded. “At least do it yourself, don’t make Foross be the bad boy.”

Blond Foross frowned. “Mother Gaea, you—”

He stopped as Koass put and hand on his shoulder.

“All right, Mother,” Koass said. “I want to make clear that you don’t make policy for us.”

“Even if that policy is the wisest course of action?” Gaea asked with an arch expression, still leaning back in her chair.

“Mother, less than a tenday ago you weren’t even a corporeal entity. You undertook this—this joyride in the flesh—and put a titanic number of people at risk!”

“Koass, you can’t be saying I haven’t contributed. I know you’re not saying that.”

The Advocate Eternal clenched a fist. “Of course you contributed. You have been a huge help. That is not the point. The point is undermining procedure is a very bad precedent. Therefore, I am compelled to get something out of the headaches your physical presence in Eternity is going to cause.”

“Headaches?” Gaea frowned.

Damay thrust up out of her chair next to the all-mother. “Eternal Koass, I must protest this disrespectful…”

“Ahhht!” Koass roared cutting off the elder savant, slashing down with a pointed finger. “No! Your mother is plenty old enough to stand up for herself.” Koass swung around to the room. “For those that don’t know, our fine mother of all made an agreement with the Kriar that she and her firsts would be seen as a sovereign entity, bound by Kriar accords and subject to an arbitrary armistice. A step we of the Protectorate have been approaching with extreme caution. Given that the villains in this situation are Kriar, I cannot think of a much greater conflict of interests. The troubling thing is that she promised our,” he thumped his chest with a fist. “Our conduct as well. So, if we are going to be bound by this promise between firsts, the Protectorate is damn well going to get something out of it.”

“Koass,” Gaea growled.

“No,” he raised a hand. “Let me say my piece. You—” He stabbed a finger at Wren.

The blonde savant clutched her chest. “Me?”

“You.” He pointed at Damay. “You.” He pointed at Ziedra. “Her.” He flipped a hand at Daena. “Oh yes, and especially you.” He thrust a finger at Bannor. “If the Protectorate is to be bound by Gaea and her agreements, then Gaea’s children are bound by mine. When we need them. Those five, Gaea,” he pointed to the floor in front of himself. “Right here with bells on.”

Bannor winced.

Wren scowled. “Wait a darn moment,” she burst out. “Why punish us? We had to do it, you know we did.”

“This isn’t punishment, Wren. This is resource management. You and your siblings are assets, powerful assets. If I am going to be wasting manpower making sure she stays out of trouble.” He pointed at Gaea. “I need compensation.” He swung his hand to include all the savants. “Any of Gaea’s children who retain ascendant status will be required to register as beta class enforcers subject to all the rules and responsibilities thereof. Mortal savants will be put on gamma class reserve status. Honorary shaladens will be created and kept in trust should your service be required. If the family of Gaea agrees to this, then the Protectorate will enter into all the commensurate treaties.” He swung his hand around. “This is an all or nothing arrangement. Either all of you agree, or we walk from this deal.”

Bannor glanced up to where the Vatraena sat with her daughter. The Kriar matriarch wore a serious expression as did her daughter and Eladrazelle who was sitting next to her. None of the three looked ready to jump into this particular fray. Bannor understood the Advocate’s upset—that had been one big promise. On top of things she had promised to protect the Kriar from future Jyril magic attacks. She had all but given away the house in order to come into Eternity in the flesh.

“Well, if I have to bust heads once in a while to keep this body,” Ziedra said. “Sign me up. Small price to pay if you ask me.”

“I don’t like being required to do it,” Damay said. “But I always have and always will defend what is right and good.”

“Well, I don’t know what you think you’re getting in me,” Wren said. “I’m not staying an ascendant.”

“I get the mistress of Starholme,” Koass rumbled. “And it doesn’t matter whether she’s an ascendant or not.”

Gaea hadn’t said anything. She just stared at Koass.

Bannor sighed. “Koass, I am so done with being a soldier. I’m going to be a father soon…”

The Advocate Eternal fixed him with white glowing eyes that made him tremble inside. “Are you refusing?”

He swallowed, glancing over to Wren and the others. Sarai squeezed his arm. She didn’t seem to be pushing him one way or the other. He suspected that was because she planned to maintain her status as a Shael Dal in order to keep her promise to Gaea.

He let out a breath. “No.”

Koass raised an eyebrow. “Daena?”

The youngest ascendant growled. “You know I won’t mess it up for everyone else.”

He focused on Gaea, and tilted his head. “Mother?”

“This confrontation was entirely unnecessary,” the all-mother growled.

“Maybe,” Koass said. He let out a breath, softening somewhat. “Mother, we will work out the rest of the particulars in private.”

Gaea clicked her teeth together. “Indeed we shall…”

Return to Contents

Chapter Thirty-Five

We risked our lives, our family, and our
nation. It was pleasing indeed to see it
acknowledged by the eternals. Fair
treatment in an unfair universe is the kind
of satisfying surprise that one gets few
times in their lives…
—Jhaan T’Evagduran,
King of Malan

The tension from the conflict between Koass and Gaea wound down after a few short breaths. The giant terraced hall was filled with many who were happy for a break of any kind. For Bannor, he felt overjoyed to simply be able to spend time with his new family, Sarai, and a large supply of food (not necessarily in that order). Consolations could wait a plate or two, and he busied himself with the more-than-adequate comestibles.

The King and Queen were in good spirits. Despite everything that Kul’Amaron had endured in the conflict, it was nothing that couldn’t be mended in time. In the space of a few breaths, Malan had become the Protectorate’s one and only “favored nation” and that new status could be spun into a resilient shield against any deprecations put forth by the Malan’s council of noble houses. At least according to a few things said by Kalindinai and the King between bites. The family heads were investing considerable energy catching up on missed meals.

Spirits rose as the meal progressed. Visits from various allies and the open and welcoming greetings given by the T’Evagdurans showed how far the royal elves had come in terms of new friendships and camaraderie with the Felspars, Kergathas and their extended circle of friends and supporters.

“Doesn’t being press-ganged by the Protectorate bother you?” Daena asked him during a break in the conversation.

Bannor shrugged and glanced at Sarai. “Since the whole family is in, I might as well be in too.”

Daena pursed her lips, her gaze going to Janai who raised an eyebrow. “I don’t want to join the army.”

He nodded. “Well, I certainly understand that. I was thirteen when I was trotted off to war with a rusty second-hand sword, a half-boiled jerkin and a helmet made out of pot shavings.” He looked to the tier above where Megan, Tal, Terra, T’Gor and other Shael Dal were enjoying themselves. “I won’t say the duty will be any easier, but the commanders are people who look after their own.” Bannor paused. “I thought you told Koass you wanted some excitement?”

Daena snorted. “Done, had my fill, thank you very much. That whole deal with the Lokori by itself—” She made a slashing gesture with her hand. “Lifetime—I am good.”

“It won’t be so bad,” Sarai said, sipping from her cup. “It’s not like you’ll be walking a picket line or doing regiment maneuvers in knee-deep mud. The Protectorate is more like being a city guard, only the city is all of Eternity.”

“Yesss,” Daena drew the word out. “And the criminals are like these freaky scary elders with time powers and stuff.”

Janai laughed. “Dane, take a look around the room. Freaky scary? Please. See that lady…” She pointed to Aarlen where she was sitting with Beia, and other members of the Frielos clan. “She’s on your side, and they’re getting ready to add a dozen Kriar, valkyries, and Baronians to the roster. They will partner you with somebody good—trust me. You’re fifteen and your mother is bloody Gaea. They will not gank you around. I would bet three crowns they put you with Megan, Adwena, or if they want you really safe—with Elsbeth.”

“Elsbeth?” Daena frowned. “That scary red-haired lady?”

Janai shook her head. “She’s not scary—she’s stuffy. She pretends to hate youngsters when she actually likes them.”

The girl’s brow furrowed. “How do you know that?”

Janai rolled her eyes and pointed to the band on her arm. “Shaladen—telepathy—remember?”

“Mimi, let the girl breathe,” Kalindinai chided her daughter. “She’s been told she’s going to join one of the most powerful organizations in the universe whether she wants to or not. These people are scary. It’s a monstrous responsibility—for anyone—much less a girl not even out of her teens. I would object to it myself except that I know she will be supervised. I am certain that is why Koass wants her in the Protectorate. It gives him control over her mentoring.”

Janai snorted. “I am a fine mentor.”

“There are apparently others who don’t see it that way,” Ryelle remarked swirling wine around in her goblet. She finished off the cup looking at Janai as she drank. As she poured herself more, she glanced sidelong at her younger sister. “Wasn’t it your fine leadership that got her in trouble in the first place?”

The second princess sniffed. “Other people were being nosy.” She gave Sarai an arch expression. “Some people have favorable status with a certain garmtur and are more than willing to convince him to spy.”

Bannor almost choked on a bite of beef. He washed it down with a gulp of mead. “Hey, I did not spy. You willingly tendered that information.”

“After you scared Daena and myself half to death you mean!” Janai growled.

Smiling, Sarai made a dismissing gesture. “Don’t worry, Dear sister, it won’t happen again. It is sooo moot. You keep the Protectorate powers, Rye and I know your precise location and what you’re up to every instant of every day. Why, we’ll be looking over your shoulder even while asleep, making sure you and Daena stay safe and healthy. Isn’t that lovely?”

Janai grimaced and rocked her head back. She had obviously forgotten that particular drawback to being a Shael Dal. What was wonderful in war and crisis was not so helpful in peace when one wanted to keep to themselves.

“Why that expression, hmmm?” She made an innocent expression. “You get to know where we’re at too.”

Janai ground her teeth. “I don’t care where you two are…”

“Jan, that is so harsh.” She put a hand to her breast. “I’m hurt.” She looked to her eldest sister. “Aren’t you hurt?”

“Absolutely crushed,” Ryelle agreed with a mock expression of pain.

“You could give it up I suppose,” Sarai said with a wistful tone, sipping from her cup. “No shaladen strength, no shaladen health, no shaladen teleport powers, no translation, no mind protection, no telepathy—”

“Sar…” Janai interrupted her with a snarling sound. “I get it.”

Ryelle brushed at her translucent hair. “Sister, I don’t see why you’re snapping,” she said in a mild tone. “She was just trying to be helpful.”

“The both of you are about as helpful as a lead corset!” Janai snapped. “Why can’t you two just mind your own affairs instead of constantly trying to interfere with mine?”

The eldest sister waved a hand in front of her face as if to dispel an unpleasant odor. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten a certain elf lady who used to make great sport of undermining her sister’s projects; scandals in court, misdirected caterers, errant animals, mislabeled seating charts… is any of this familiar?”

“It was just harmless fun,” Janai protested. “No permanent harm was done!”

“I don’t recall either of us doing you any permanent harm…”

“These are real negotiations, real treaties, real money…” the middle sister gritted.

“Ah, I see how it works,” the Queen observed. “When Janai does it, it’s fun. When they do it, it’s interference.”

“Mother, they don’t have business interests outside of Malan—I do.”

King Jhaan raised a finger. “So, let me see if I have it right. Disrupting internal negotiations and causing embarrassment for your sisters is harmless, but when it costs you money and political favors it’s espionage?” He sighed. “Well, as Sarai said, the point is moot, unless, of course, you really do plan to give up the shaladen. However, I must note that it wouldn’t keep them from reading your mind. Protectorate rules forbid using shaladen powers for personal or political ends—but there’s no rule about keeping siblings in line…”

Janai let out a breath and rolled her head forward in a show of defeat. “Okay, okay, I apologize.”

Sarai brightened. “Oh now that’s a step in the right direction. I don’t know which of the six dozen dirty tricks you’ve played on me and Rye you’re apologizing for—but it certainly can’t hurt.”

Bannor empathized and put a hand on his sister-in-law’s arm. “Sister-to-be, I don’t know what you were thinking teasing them like that. They outnumber you… and it appears they don’t forget a thing…”

Janai closed her eyes and shook her head. “So it would seem.”

“Perhaps you need to pay me extra to protect you from your sisters,” Senalloy mused with a grin.

Janai pushed a hand through her hair and made a sputtering sound. “If only…”

“Matradomma,” Senalloy said. “I did have one thing to ask.”

“What is it, Sen?”

“How do you want to secure the citadel before we let the regulars back in? I mean, assuming that we get the stand down order. There’s a huge mess and who knows how many trap wards—both theirs and ours scattered everywhere. We could be a solid tenday making sweeps to make sure we found everything.”

Kalindinai rocked back in her chair. “That’s a good question. There’s also a great number of hotspots that will be potentially hazardous…” She puffed out her cheeks. “That’s a very good question. It’s not that we can’t do it, it’s just going to take time to do it right…”

“Well, I can help find such stuff, Matradomma,” Bannor offered.

“Finding them is the easy part,” Kalindinai said. “It’s disabling them that takes all the resources. The Baronians had elder mages laying those damnable things, and if we miss even one it will cost lives.”

“It takes a mage of near equal power to remove them,” Senalloy explained. “Battle weaves are notoriously hard to break. They are designed to backlash if they are tampered with. So, whoever does it needs to be experienced. I can do it of course, but even if I do a few a day, it will be several score-days cleaning them out.”

“I have much more productive things for you to be doing than scrubbing Baronian dren off the walls,” Kalindinai said with a frown. “We need to be able to hold court as soon as possible.”

Bannor straightened up. “I have an idea.”

“What would that be, Son-to-be?”

He smiled, thinking about how clever he was going to seem. That didn’t happen often. He pointed to the gold-blooms that Sarai had brought. “Koass showed Sarai and I something on the way here. He told us that what we’re in here.” He gestured to the hall around them. “Is part of the ‘paradise space’. Anyone who is a Protectorate member is allowed to use this space to create anything ‘within reason’. That huge hall out there.” He pointed outside to the gigantic cavern where the fifteen thousand soldier assault force had temporarily bivouacked. “That’s about the size of Kul’Amaron. I say you have the subnet make some gates at some strategic chokepoints in the citadel and make the drop points to corresponding gates in a replica setup here. The advantage is, of course, it is secure. That and you can put it into effect almost immediately. In the meantime, we can take our time cleaning up the traps and other nasty stuff.”

“But what if someone were to somehow wander out?” Sarai wondered.

“We make it closed in—if it’s just the citadel core, there won’t be any outside windows that might give anything away.”

“A scoreday ago I would have scoffed at such an outrageous proposal,” King Jhaan said with a shake of his head. “Hold court in Eternity’s Heart—it’s so preposterous. Given what I’ve been through recently, I suddenly find the idea appealing…”

The Queen seemed dazed. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but I like it too. I know we’ll have to persuade Koass, but I’m certain we can satisfy all the necessary security measures.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Senalloy said. “We only need to plead Koass for say a scoreday and a half. In that time I’m pretty certain we can have it safe again, I just need to get some help, probably my sister. Maybe Bannor can sweet-talk Sindra and Drucilla into helping,” She winked. “They’ve been making moon-eyes at him.”

He winced, why did she have to bring that up? He had hoped that would blow over and be forgotten. Mention of it happened right before the genemar exploded.

Sarai frowned at him. “Hmmm?”

“Nothing,” he moaned. “It was no-thing!”

Janai sniffed. “Have you ever noticed the more my brother-to-be protests, the more some-thing it is?”

Sarai straightened up in her chair. “That’s right, the rescue thing, right?”

He slouched down in his chair and covered his head. “It’s not my fault.”

Sarai drummed her fingers and sighed. “Sen, I think we’ll keep him away from those two.”

“I was really just teasing anyway,” Senalloy said with a grin. “About Bannor anyway. I would just ask them myself.”

The Queen spoke up. “I know she’s young, but what about Lady Ziedra?”

Senalloy pursed her lips. “She’s certainly strong enough…”

“What about Zee?” Wren asked walking up to their table.

Bannor uncovered his head. A distraction. Good.

“Arwen Wren,” Kalindinai nodded to her. “We were speculating about how to get all of the Baronian magical traps out of Kul’Amaron so the citadel could get back to the business of being the capital of Malan.”

“Oh,” Wren said. “Zee would probably help with that. Sure.” She walked over and knelt down between Kalindinai and the King. “Matradomma, are you really okay? I feel bad. I feel like I let you down. I stood there like a salted fish. I should have done more to protect you.”

“Hey,” Daena growled. “If you’re taking blame I need to as well.”

“Look you two,” Kalindinai said. “No guilt. It happened fast. I am the elder, I should have advised you. Daena you tried to shield me, and Wren,” She flipped a hand. “Gaea was in you, and she wasn’t thinking tactically. She’s not a soldier. I should have been faster, I sit in a throne most of a tenday and I don’t train enough.” She patted Wren’s arm. “It’s okay, really. This thing.” She thumped the arm of the artifice she was sitting in. “This is a setback—nothing more.” She sighed. “Now, was there something else?”

“Yes, Matradomma, there is,” Wren said, face serious. “Am I the only one feeling dissatisfied with the outcome? I don’t care if we’re free to go about our business. Somebody started this and I want a little payback.”

“Well, I laud the sentiment,” Kalindinai said with a nod. “However, it’s a little misplaced. If we knew the culprit, the eternals would be pounding down their door right now.”

“Isn’t that what Eladrazelle was finding out?” Bannor asked.

“That’s what she’s supposed to be finding out,” Wren said. “I wonder though. I wonder if Marna is going to let us in on it.”

“Posh. Why wouldn’t she? The miscreant, or miscreants, we don’t know if there is more than one, plotted to have her slain. She has to want some justice.”

“Private justice,” Wren said. “Kriar justice. That doesn’t necessarily include us. Our satisfaction isn’t necessarily a priority for her.”

“I see what you’re driving at,” Kalindinai mused fingering her lower lip. “There’s many political reasons to quietly corner and eliminate this villain. To save public embarrassment for her and her council—assuming it is one of their high councilors as she has speculated.” The Queen shook her head. “Still, there’s little we can do. We have no jurisdiction on Homeworld.”

“But we don’t have to go there to look around.”

“Explain.”

“Mother, Father, and Sen were able to set up a scrying mirror in Malbraion hall, and we were able to search pretty effectively even though we didn’t know what we were looking for.”

“Uh hmmm,” the Queen said with an arch expression.

“If we mix in Starholme power and a few more elders, I think we can make a divining crystal to whip all divining crystals. I’ve already asked Gaea and she’s willing to help, but I think we’ll need all our best mages to make it work… I’ve heard that you’re very good with divination magic.”

King Jhaan tilted his head. “It’s not like there’d be many magical shields on Homeworld.”

“No,” Kalindinai agreed. “But we need something to go by. Somebody or something that has been in contact with this mastermind—if he (or she) even exists.”

Wren leaned close and looked down the table toward Bannor. “That’s where he comes in…”

Return to Contents

Chapter Thirty-Six

Jhaan and I have always had only a very
few friends, there are so few a leader can
really trust. For more than a century Euriel
and Vanidaar have been those friends. It is
great honor and blessing that we found
more whom we trust and admire, who we
can also call friends and allies…
—Kalindinai T’Evagduran,
Queen of Malan

Wren’s way with people always impressed Bannor, and her new idea with the scrying crystal proved no exception. In a matter of a few bells she had a dozen people not only willing to help, but enthusiastically involved. Even the ultra-reserved lady Elsbeth, and the frosty cool Gabriella were energetically discussing the possibilities.

With Beia’s help, Wren had used the power of the ‘paradise space’ to set up a replica of an area she called Bronze Hall. A huge shaft of red crystal sat in the middle of the sizeable space that was filled with books, tables, crafting equipment, and all manner of alchemical supplies. Huge black slates hung on every surface, and boxes of chalk sticks were never more than a step away.

Though he had never had much more than a passing contact with magic-users, he soon learned that, to a mage, a stick of chalk and a felt cloth could be rather like a sword and shield were to a fighter. This became evident as the brilliant minds Wren had gathered together began to debate the best way to accomplish their goal.

Incomprehensible scribbles were fiercely scratched on the boards, argued, erased and rewritten as each participant sought to find flaw and improve whatever it was they were doing.

He had no idea what Wren had told them, but it sure had gotten the participants fired up.

Gaea acted as an arbitrator. While her knowledge of magic was vast, her ability to innovate with it was apparently limited. However, when asked a question of whether a given technique would work, she was invariably able to cite the strengths, weaknesses, and other aspects of that particular construction.

Though youngsters, Cassin and Annawen also participated. They, like Gaea, acted as arbiters only in a slightly different role. The elders would call out some incomprehensible magic nonsense and either Cassin or Annawen would rapidly scribble down something in some new language that even the shaladen couldn’t translate. Whatever it was, it allowed the young Kriar to make determinations; whether an incantation was viable, or what the results of combining certain enchantments would be.

Bannor was lost, but the mages were enthralled and obviously enjoying the purely intellectual challenge. By the time three bells had passed, Idun, Aarlen, Sindra, Drucilla, Loric, Elsbeth, Senalloy, Gabriella, Kalindinai, Dominique, Euriel, Vanidaar, Ziedra, Cassandra, and Dorian were all involved in the discussion.

He still wondered what Wren had offered to get them so intrigued. Whatever enticement she used had made personalities work together who it was tough to make stay in the same room, much less collaborate. He knew this to be the case with Elsbeth and Aarlen. Those two could barely tolerate one another. Whatever suasion Wren used had their complete focus. While they sniped at one another, deriding mistakes, and belittling inelegant solutions, their love and fascination for magic seemed a far stronger force than their personal disagreements.

While the whole display was little more than babbling to Bannor, he still found the enthusiasm of the researchers to be uplifting.

A smile on his face, he watched his mother-to-be as she contributed to the efforts. Kalindinai looked happier than he had seen her in the past few score-days. Being able to work with other mages of her skill level was obviously a rare thing for her and she reveled in it. Still sitting in her floating chair, cheeks pink with energy, she engaged the others in the debate, making points and offering suggestions.

Safely back from the intellectual fray but close enough to bring food, drinks, and other requirements, he, Wren, the T’Evagduran sisters and several of researcher’s mates sat on the sidelines observing.

Wren had her feet up, arms folded, half drowsing, half listening. Next to her, white-haired Desiray was similarly arranged. The two of them conversed quietly, trading glib quips about the habits of magic-users and what got them excited.

Gold-skinned Radian sat at a table, elbows propped up watching his wife, raptly admiring her every word and movement. Corim sat by Radian, a collection of books in front of him, frantically scribbling notes on parchment sheets. Occasionally, the burly warrior would stop and leaf rapidly through one of the texts, find something, nod and go back to his scribbling.

Sarai and her sisters seemed to find Corim’s behavior amusing. Bannor thought it curious, but not funny. For himself, it was satisfying simply to be able to relax in Sarai’s company. His wife leaned her head against his shoulder and hugged his arm more tightly. After that close call on Fabrista Homeworld, he doubted he would be getting far from her unless she were sleeping or unconscious.

Daena was kicked back with a large bowl of fat green wine-berries, munching contentedly even though they had eaten a huge meal only three bells previous. Janai reclined against her with some kind of small book in her hand.

King T’Evagduran sat at a table next to theirs with Ryelle. The two elves had a huge stack of papers on the table between them and they seemed to be busily catching up on missed administration paperwork as they observed the Queen ‘at play’ with her new mage friends.

As they relaxed, a thought occurred to Bannor. “Wren?”

The blonde ascendant didn’t open her eyes. “Yes, Bannor.”

“What happened to Vera?” he asked. “I haven’t seen her around.”

Desiray who was also reclining with her feet up on the table, rocked back on the rear legs of the chair. “She’s hiding,” Desiray mumbled. “That whole thing with Vulcindra…” She made a growling sound.

He frowned. “The last thing lady Vera should be feeling is shame.”

“Mother will attend to it,” Janai said.

“Good luck to her,” the white-haired woman said. “That girl can be so stubborn.”

“Stubborn doesn’t even begin to capture it…” Wren murmured. “I love her like my own sister, but she can be so frustrating.”

“Well, I’d like to see Vera get her honor,” he said. “I was in her mind. It means everything to her.”

Sarai gave his arm a squeeze. “Mother will pay what she promised,” Sarai said.

“Oh, I know that,” he responded. “It never even occurred to me that Kalindinai would renege.” He sighed. “The problem is she won’t accept.” Bannor shook his head. “She believes she failed the mission because Vulcindra helped.”

“That’s silly,” Daena declared. “Even with that little token interference, she did something that was practically impossible.”

“That might be,” Bannor returned. “She doesn’t see it that way. It’s an absolute thing to her.”

“Mother Gaea will straighten it out,” Radian remarked.

“I hope it’s soon-n-n…” Bannor’s voice trailed off as he got a chilly sensation. He realized that several of the mage researchers were staring at him.

Kalindinai extended a hand and made a coming gesture with her finger.

Bannor swallowed. “Wren, what did you promise them? It didn’t have anything to do with me did it?”

Wren pursed her lips. “Well, I might have mentioned that you would be available to—ahhh—study. They are trying to do a new kind of scrying, something like what you can do.”

Kalindinai was making a more insistent ‘come-here’ gesture.

Bannor gritted his teeth. “Wren, I don’t want to be studied.”

“Oh, hush, you big baby. They won’t hurt you.”

He groaned. He did not want to be the center of attention for all those mages. He looked to Sarai for defense. “Do I have to?”

“Go on,” she said. “It’s for a good cause.”

“Argh,” he grumbled. He gently disentangled Sarai, pushed back and stood. He gave Wren’s chair a kick, forcing her to wobble and catch her balance. “Next time warn me before you offer me up as bloody research topic.”

Wren just stared at him.

He trudged over to Kalindinai who smiled at him.

It was going to be a long day…

***

Bannor’s experience being the center of attention with all the magic users of the Baronian war wasn’t as bad as he expected. Mostly they asked him questions. They showed him different kinds of magic and asked him what he saw. They also requested some simple demonstrations of the Garmtur which he did for them.

What he finally came to understand was what Wren had motivated these powerful arcanists with. The main carrot that she promised was a tour of Starholme, some of them had already been there but they hadn’t been allowed to look around or really examine anything. The second thing was more of a pride enticement, the challenge of beating Marna and Eladrazelle to the actual motivator behind the conflict. The chance to study him as a source of inspiration was actually something she tacked on at the last instant.

Loric finished scribbling something on a parchment and thunked the quill back into the well. He looked back to Elsbeth, Aarlen and Senalloy who were looking over his shoulder. “I think it’s time to go from theory to application. With Wren, Damay, Ziedra and Bannor to act as our anchors I think we can create a scrying tool that has the range, versatility, and power we need.”

“What about a control mechanism?” Kalindinai said. “We haven’t had time to work that out.”

“We use an existing item,” Loric said. “We can use one of my krillglobes. It should be more than adequate for this purpose.”

“A krillglobe?” Idun growled. The goddess’ displeasure made the room tremble, and Bannor felt his skin prickle. “I thought the pantheon council destroyed all of them.”

Loric shrugged. “So, if you did, I couldn’t make another?”

“Such powers should be reserved to the firsts…” Idun said with frown.

Loric glanced to Ziedra. “Isn’t she a first?” He glanced at Gaea. “And what about Mother—”

“Never mind I said anything…” The pantheon lady grumbled with a roll of her eyes. “At any rate, I am interested to see what we can do with this binding we came up with, with the help of your daughters.”

“I’m a little unclear on how this is going to work,” Bannor said. “I mean I’m willing to help, but what is this thing going to do?”

“Well,” Ziedra said. “Wren’s original idea was to make something like what was done in Malbraion hall with the mirror. The problem is something like that isn’t strong enough. Its range isn’t enough, and it can only look where it’s directed. As some of us can tell you,” she indicated Senalloy, Dorian and a few others. “The Kriar have a power in their gates that allows the portal to search for a particular image or creature. The trouble is, we don’t know yet who or what we’re looking for. So we want to be able to do something Aarlen calls an ‘associative search’, we start with a root anchor and scry all the things related to that. That first layer of searching is your ‘floor search’ then the search branches through all the relationships those relations have, any common elements are considered leads or possibilities.”

“That could be millions of things—millions of people.”

“Exactly,” Elsbeth said in her cool voice, brushing back her red hair. “You see millions of threads in your sight, how do you know which ones you want?”

He shrugged. “It’s instinct I guess.”

She nodded. “That’s what we’ve been doing, creating a sort of instinct that will allow the magic to search through the possibilities and find promising leads the same way you pinpoint the threads you need to manipulate.”

“Whoa,” he breathed. “It’s smart magic.”

“Indeed,” Gaea said. “Living magic. Magic that can make autonomous decisions.”

“Elsbeth,” Loric said. “You and Aarlen can do all the creation we need, right?”

“Aye,” she answered. “How thick did you want the crossbar to link the coven stations?”

Loric held up his fist. “At least as thick as my arm.” He nodded to Wren. “You would be amazed at how much she and May can generate. Make sure the grounding is really solid.” He looked around. “If the rest of you will excuse me, I will get our core component.” The gray-haired elder vanished.

The all-mother studied area where Loric had been standing. “This should be an interesting experiment. I think I would rather like to defeat Marna’s artifices.”

“I second that,” Elsbeth growled.

***

The group followed Elsbeth out of their created study area and down a connecting corridor that opened out into a lightless void. The smells and sensations of the place they had been in faded, and the only real sensation detectable was a pulsation like that of a tremendous heart.

After perhaps a dozen steps in the lightlessness a ray of illumination speared down onto Elsbeth’s position, casting the group in a of circle bright white light. The glow stayed with them as they continued out into the emptiness.

“This feels familiar,” Gaea remarked, walking with her hands behind her back. She stared up to the ceiling. “I had a sense of it earlier, but all the impositions on the local reality were shrouding it. Now…” Her voice trailed off.

“What is it, Mother?” Wren asked.

Gaea pursed her lips. “I know this is Eternity’s Heart, and I have, in spirit, been here many times. However, my natural body is so vast that one place has always been much like another…” She touched above her breast. “Odd that I should think of it literally as my heart…”

They walked for another few breaths. He, Sarai, and the others in their family all looked confused apparently wondering what was supposed to happen. He noticed others like Gabriella and Dorian followed with patient expressions as though nothing were out of the ordinary. What would they find out in this dark emptiness?

“This should be far enough,” Elsbeth said. “What kind of scenery would we like as our backdrop to work in?”

“A nice glassy lake ringed by some rolling hills, maybe a nice tall waterfall at one end,” Senalloy recommended.

Aarlen glanced at Senalloy. She sniffed and brushed at her white hair. “A lake is good, we may all want to take a dip later. This is going to be hard work.”

“If we’re putting in orders for features,” Dorian said, raising a hand. “Don’t forget the hot-spring!”

Elsbeth rolled her green eyes. “How could we ever forget the hot-spring?” She tilted her head. “Although, now that you mention it… it does sound appealing.”

Bannor wondered what all this talk was about. Scenery? Koass had mentioned that anything could be created in the paradise space. He had seen Beia make bronze hall, but what Senalloy was describing was something huge…

Elsbeth closed her eyes and slowly swung her hand in front of her. As the red-haired mage’s fingers panned across the darkness, color and texture faded into a view. A panorama of rolling hills backed by jagged white-topped mountains shimmered and came into focus. Trees sprung up in a green carpet of grass and low lying foliage and became a stand of old-growth scalebark. Lonely sentinel trees crowned with moss and streamers of mistletoe stood scattered through the area. A flower-scented breeze sighed in their faces making ripples on the reflective surface a large lake fringed in boulders that sparkled into being. With a distant hiss and a flare of swirling mists a tall waterfall spilled out of nothingness as a bowl appeared in the high spot of the hills, and a rock face and basin etched themselves into their view.

Bannor turned and looked behind them. The landscape seemed to go on forever. It seemed like one of those giant world spaces they had seen on Homeworld only here Elsbeth created the space from nothing—simply by wanting it!

“Amazing,” Sarai breathed next to him, giving voice to his thought.

“One of the few benefits the Shael Dal get is the use of this space,” Aarlen said. “There are limits of course and safety precautions but the novelty is not something that wears off quickly.”

“I should think not!” Kalindinai breathed. She turned around, scanning the environment. No doubt noting as he did, the feel of the warmth of the golden sun burning overhead, the smell of the grass, and the sounds of the birds.

“This is just a pleasant backdrop to do our work in,” Elsbeth said. “We will need a nice flat solid area…” She made a scooping motion with her fingers.

By the lakeside, a massive stone barricade grumbled into view, seeming to press up out of the soil and grass until it stood a few paces tall. Elsbeth had formed arched gate openings on each of the four sides of the enclosure that was at least two hundred paces on a side. An afterthought created a quay that led from the lakeside gate to a point about a third of the way into the water.

Elsbeth gestured everyone to follow and headed to the nearest gate opening. At the threshold she stopped and made smoothing motions. In heartbeats, the interior space inside the walls became a single smooth surface of stone. Boot heels clicking on the newly manifested rock, the mage went into the actual creation of the project they came here for.

Two circular daises of stone each about ten paces across and a pace high were erected near the middle of the giant yard about thirty paces apart. Deep groves thicker than Bannor’s leg appeared in the surface of the granite flooring, forming a radial pattern around each circular construction. A single pair of grooves, spaced a pace apart ran from the center of one dais to the other. With these etchings made, Elsbeth used her finger to trace the groove pattern. Where her finger traveled crystal material flashed and solidified, glinting in the sun light.

Elsbeth stepped back and stared at what she had done. She glanced at the group. “Doesn’t look like much, eh?”

“It’s not finished,” Dorian replied. “You didn’t put in the ‘seats of honor’ either.” She sniffed. “You also didn’t put in the hot-spring.”

The red-haired mage sighed. She flicked a hand at the middle of the area between the two circular daises. A single circular pedestal two paces across sprung up. From this piece, four massive throne-like chairs appeared at the cardinal points of the circle. Narrow steps between the chairs led up to the top of the area where the seatbacks joined. From out of the middle of that raised surface a waist high pillar of crystal shimmered into being.

Elsbeth swung around and made a swirling motion with her hand and one at time going around the dais on the left, twelve man-sized circular mirrors on thick onyx stands appeared. In front of each of these were seats where a single individual could look into the mirror. Bannor found the arrangement suspiciously like how the Kriar had their viewing crystals set around their portal artifices.

Once finished with the one dais, she repeated the process around the other, adding another twelve mirrors and twelve more seats.

“Why so many viewing mirrors?” Kalindinai asked when she was done. “There’s not that many of us.”

“Anyone with mage ability can help,” Elsbeth said with a shrug.

There was a rasp and thump of displaced air behind them. Bannor looked back to see that lord Loric had reappeared carrying a massive crystalline sphere on his shoulder. It looked heavy and the first step he took proved it—the ground shook. The item, his krillglobe, had threads in it that Bannor had seen associated with only very primal powers. Items like the shaladens and other ancient magicks like they had seen at Starholme. Whatever the device did, it had incredible power. He understood why Idun had been leery when its use had been mentioned.

“Well, looks like I arrived just in time,” he told the group, as he stumped up to them.

“That looks heavy…” Wren said. “Need some help?”

“Yes,” the lord said with a grunt. He shrugged the massive weight a bit to keep his balance. “It’s a bit too heavy for me to position alone. It weighs about two hundred stone.”

“Frell,” Daena lurched forward and put a steadying hand against the mass.

Bannor went to the man’s aide, and took up some of the weight. The moment he touched the crystal he felt the static rush of the thing’s power. This object was certainly no toy. Wren joined in and the three of them assisted Loric as he clambered up onto the smaller dais, the one Dorian had called the ‘seat of honor’. As the four of them surmounted the pedestal with the heavy orb, Bannor noticed the crystal centerpiece was concave at the top. Struggling to control the heavy weight, they settled the powerful magic device into the depression meant for it with a heavy thud.

“Whew,” Daena said. “That won’t be blowing away in a strong wind.”

“No, not likely,” Loric chuckled, wiping the perspiration from his brow.

“Holy dren, what did you make that thing out of?” Wren wondered. “See-through lead?”

“The material is a form of krill, and it is very dense.”

Idun was staring at the globe with narrowed eyes and folded arms. “Perhaps we should get on with this endeavor,” the goddess rumbled.

Gaea was looking around at the arrangements of stone and metal, eyes hooded and smiling. She drifted over and put a green arm around Daena’s waist. The big ascendant snuggled close. No true child of Gaea could resist when their mother wanted attention.

Head against Daena’s shoulder, Gaea fingered her lower lip. “I have a feeling…” She murmured, her voice echoing. “I think… I think it will work.”

“Of course it will work,” Aarlen growled. “However, I am of the mind of Idun. It won’t do dren if we don’t get it enchanted. I for one want to find the culprit behind this mess before Marna and her sycophants bury the evidence…”

“Hey!” Dominique shouted, cutting Aarlen off. The dark-haired warrior, Gabriella’s daughter, glared at the Magestrix. Her voice became a rasp that made Bannor’s skin prickle. “I strongly urge you to curtail that rant. If you want to proceed—proceed. Don’t think you can run down Marna when I’m around.”

Aarlen raised her chin and stared at Dominique. The smaller woman’s hands rested on the hilts of her double swords. She knew how to use them. Bannor had seen that up close. This was not a lady lightly braced or angered.

Sindra and Drucilla moved to either side of their mother, obviously ready to intervene. The expression on their faces said they took her threat seriously.

“Ladies,” Senalloy said in a soothing voice stepping between them. “While I’m certain a brawl between you would be entertaining, don’t you think there are more productive uses for your energies?”

Dominique snorted. “I’m fine. I am okay with competing with Marna and Eladrazelle. I am not okay with treating her as the enemy. She has to do what she thinks is right for her people.”

Aarlen made a growling sound. “Which includes kissing—”

“Enough,” Gaea rumbled. The sound of her voice made Bannor flinch. Even Aarlen recoiled a step. “I will not have my time with my children soiled by bickering. Let Marna do what she believes she has to. Leave us be understanding of that. She will have to be understanding when we locate the villain ahead of her and suffer them an inquiry of an exceedingly uncomfortable nature.”

“All right, Mother!” Daena lauded.

Gaea turned and held a hand out toward Ziedra. “Zee, my child, join me. We shall be the binding root that engages this marvelously creative work of Loric’s.”

Grinning, Ziedra floated over and took Gaea’s hand. The all-mother stepped over and touched Loric’s globe and yanked a mass of tangled threads of magic out of it and splayed it apart like she were filleting a fish. Some of the strands she pushed to Ziedra who looped them around her fingers, twisting and pushing like she was playing a child’s string game.

Bannor saw the gray-haired elder cringe and grip his skull. “Mother! Be careful! That took centuries…”

Gaea snapped her fingers. “If you want me to take more care, then get that coven going.” She yanked some more magic from the globe, twisting and shoving it into a new configuration, making Loric grit his teeth and moan.

“Damn it!” He snapped, swinging around. “Come on! Form a circle. Let’s do this.”

Frowning, all the mages gathered around the center dais, the seats of honor, and began chanting.

Bannor pulled Sarai back and urged the others not involved in the casting to step back. The magic being worked possessed huge potential. Anyone who accidentally closed the wrong gap would get very, very dead.

With Loric, Elsbeth, Aarlen, and Senalloy as their cardinal points, the coven worked the enchantment. Even though most of the mages hadn’t prepared, the energy of Eternity provided. All that was needed was willpower, knowledge, and creativity.

In a matter of a few breaths, glowing lines linked the krillglobe to the lines of crystal feeding through the channels all around through the daises. A golden glow spread around the mirrors positioned over the magic lattice.

Complex structures and filaments of elemental energy spun and intertwined around the coven. Motes of light trailed in lazy orbits around their bodies. Gaea and Ziedra gleamed and shimmered, the light from their bodies casting shadows on the intent faces of the circle of wizards and sorceresses.

“My knowledge of magic is limited,” King T’Evagduran murmured in a hushed voice. “Still, that seems a rather significant amount of power…”

“Uh,” Wren coughed. “Yeah.” She blew out her cheeks. “I think we better step back a bit more…”

As she spoke, Bannor felt the heat on his face, and recoiled another few steps, pulling Sarai with him.

“This is fascinating,” Corim murmured by them. He had taken a seat on the bare stone with a tablet in his lap. He had blue quill and was scribbling notes at a ferocious rate.

“I have no idea what they’re doing,” Daena breathed, the light casting gleaming reflections on her shiny skin. She glanced at Corim. “But it sure is wizard.”

“Mother is really shining,” Janai remarked, rubbing shoulders with her One. “Look at her expression!”

“I don’t know if she should be participating in this so soon after her injuries,” Ryelle murmured with a frown. “Being involved favored her mood so much though, I couldn’t make myself ruin it.”

“Your mother so rarely gets to use all of her power,” the King murmured. “She’s always afraid she’ll break something or someone. To be able to unleash all of her potential must feel good when it’s something besides being in a fight.”

“It’s hard work,” Sarai said with a nod. “But she feels good.”

“My mother Cassandra is certainly excited,” Radian remarked, rubbing his gold face. “Well, as excited as she gets. A chance to learn some of father’s secrets always gets her glassy-eyed.”

Lady Desiray leaned against Wren. “Isn’t that the truth? Big castings like this—the expression on her face is like she’s getting it between the sheets.”

Wren put her arm around the older woman. “Mom and Dad aren’t as into it as she is, but they seem to be having a good time.”

“Are you jesting?” Desiray said. “Your father has been itching to work on a major magic project with Loric.”

The blonde savant pursed her lips. “You’re right. It’s tough to tell with Mother. She takes everything so seriously.”

“So, it’s begun?” an echoing female voice asked from behind them.

Bannor looked back and saw Kel’varan Damay shimmer in as though she were a spirit becoming solid. Even though he had been around these people for days, he still had to catch himself at times. The ascendants were each so striking in their appearance. Damay was no longer a diminutive little woman. The older savant of forces had become statuesque paragon of feminine traits that, as Damay remarked, was ‘anything but subtle’. It appeared, the eldest ascendant had embraced her exotic new looks. She was dressed in an almost transparent blouse with dark jewels sewn into fabric and patterns stitched into the surface in black thread. The light from the coven-casting gleamed from the many necklaces, bracelets, and rings she wore.

“You should have hung around. You missed Aarlen and Dominique almost throttling one another.”

Damay swept over and put an arm around Wren and leaned against her, opposite Desiray. The elder savant raised an eyebrow. “A shame, but it’s not truly entertaining unless blows are actually struck.” She blew out her cheeks. “Oh my, that’s some—” She blinked, and put a hand to her forehead. “Big magic. Aie. I think I’ll turn down my savant senses.”

“Yes, it was making me dizzy too,” Wren said. The younger savant raised her chin. “So, May, where have you been… hmmm?”

“I have been in meetings with the Advocate,” the woman answered with sniff. “You might be the responsible party for our being a part of the Protectorate, but he’s looking to me provide some adult supervision.”

Wren tilted her head. “Gaea is not an adult?”

“Wren, we both know that in many ways she’s still very young and very impetuous. Being flesh is very new. From all indications we’re kind of stuck with her.”

The younger savant leaned back. “Stuck? May, I cannot believe that just came out of your mouth. What happened to reverence for she that is everything-you-live-for?”

Damay scowled. “Gaea our creator and this avatar are very different creatures.” Her brow furrowed. “I mean they’re the same… but their aspects…”

Wren held up a hand. “Don’t hurt yourself trying to explain it, I understand. So, meeting with Koass… Dressed like that?” She pulled at the older woman’s sleeve. “I don’t think so. You didn’t just come from the meeting. Your cheeks are a tad too rosy for that…”

“Faugh,” Damay sputtered. “I don’t know what you’re implying.”

“That power potion perfume is a good hint, May,” Desiray said tapping the side of her nose. “Remember, I was the one that gave it to you.”

“What are you two on about?” Damay wondered. “I’m just starting to get used to and enjoy this beastly huge body. Can’t I dress and primp nicely without being suspected of some lascivious activity?”

“No,” Wren responded with a grin.

“I think I know who it is,” Daena confided with a wink. “When I ducked out for snacks I saw her sauntering off with Tarkath Chauser.”

“Chauser?” Wren remarked. “Come to think, he was about the only one not hanging on our winged lady friends. Maybe he likes tall savant ladies instead?”

“The Tarkath was very gracious,” Damay said with a trace of self-consciousness. “I found him to be a refined gentleman with a proper sense of a lady’s dignity.”

Wren grinned. “I had no idea you were into military men.”

Desiray smirked. “More like military men being into her.”

The white-haired woman dodged out of reach as Damay lunged around Wren. “I am not some cheap tart,” the elder said with an acerbic tone. Bannor noted that her face was red. “And I refuse to be baited with such childish banter.”

“Well, at least he’s older,” Radian remarked, rubbing the back of his head. “Remember, she was dating Darin for a little while there.”

“I was just looking for company,” Damay bristled, glaring at Radian with glowing gold eyes.

“Can you blame her?” Sarai wanted to know. “I’ve seen that boy. I don’t know how Desiray keeps the girls away from him.”

Desiray chuckled. “I don’t. Everia does—with a stick. So, only big girls who aren’t afraid of Everia can get close to him.” She gave Damay an arch expression. “And I can’t imagine what you said to her that she wasn’t chewing on your ankle the whole time.”

The eldest ascendant sighed. “Desiray, you know I am a model of rational discourse. I would never threaten one of your children.”

“Bribery,” Wren judged. “I bet it was books…” Her voice trailed off as her attention was drawn back to the coven enchantment. “Whoa. Do you feel that?”

As Wren said it, Bannor felt a pulsation in his nola, at the same time the threads of Eternity resonated and hummed. All three daises crackled with magic, sparks and bolts of power arcing and rasping in the air around the constructs.

“I have been around a bit,” Damay remarked, gaze intent on the scene. “The only magic I’ve seen this strong was when we created Gaea and when the coven worked on the genemar.”

Loric and the rest of the circle of mages were almost lost in the weave of wards, bindings and frame-works of sorcery and magical force. The complexity of the pattern had become very like a living sentient thing. He found it disturbingly similar to the aliveness that he sensed in the genemar. He noticed the strain written on the faces of all the members of the coven. Even Gaea and Ziedra who possessed immense magical strength appeared to be struggling.

The sound of their voices rose and fell, bodies rocking forward and back as if they were getting ready to heave a giant weight. With a unified shout of effort, the bound magic hovering around the coven imploded into darkness, trailing streamers and sparks of energy as it rasped into the crystalline network of grooves. As the magic hit a bright glow flicked along the lattice making the stone hum and resonate under foot. The reverberation continued for long moments then dwindled into a low thrumming.

The daises all gleamed with a shiny radiance, the stone having taken on a glassy surface texture. The clear crystal stripes linking all the mirrors to Loric’s krillglobe gave off a golden illumination, and rainbows of color pulsed through the connections like blood. Tendrils of fine mist stirred around the edges of all the mirrors, and the reflective surfaces shimmered like the surface of water.

Loric and the other mages all but collapsed, leaning on one another or sitting down hard on the stone with grunts of exhausted effort.

Bannor looked around again. With Gaea and Ziedra’s help they had created what was essentially one giant magic item. While not the strength of a shaladen, this creation did possess immense potential. The threads of eternity bent and swayed around the thing’s power as though blowing in stiff breeze.

Gaea wiped at her brow and sat down in one of the stone ‘seats of honor’. “My, that was more taxing than I imagined it would be.”

Ziedra sat down on the chair arm. She blew a few strands of hair off her forehead. Reaching up, she pulled a few strands of already gray hair and examined them. Streaks of pure white now ran through what used to be obsidian black tresses. “Great, more hair damage. I feel like an old woman.”

“White is a great color,” Desiray remarked with a grin as she walked over to her husband. Hands on hips she looked around at the daises and the glowing orb. “Did it work?”

“It appears—” Loric grunted. “It appears we were successful. It will be a few moments before I am recovered enough to find out.”

Even goddess Idun was sitting on the ground looking dizzy. “I—I have—never—done a casting that took so much out of me. I am of Loric’s mind, the bindings did lock down well. However,” she swallowed. “However, I also will need to catch my breath.”

“Hot-spring!” Dorian moaned, leaning on Cassandra’s shoulder.

“You and your hot-spring,” Elsbeth muttered brushing back her red hair. With a snort of exasperation she swung an arm toward the nearest gated exit. Outside, a rocky alcove fringed in ferns shimmered into being. Steaming hot water churned down into the basin out of a tumble of huge boulders covered in green and yellow algae.

“Oooh,” Dorian murmured. “For someone who doesn’t like hot-springs you must have visited a few…”

“We’re here to work, not play…” the elder mage grumbled.

“I am done working,” Aarlen rumbled, pushing to her feet. “Hot mineral water is exactly what I need after that.”

Her daughters, Sindra and Drucilla, straightened and followed.

As Aarlen stumped toward the basin, she flicked a hand at the water. A low barricade of jungle sky-bar divided the sizeable pool in half and surrounded the outer fringe of rocks. “Men on that side,” she gestured to the further portion. Two thirds of the way to the pool the woman started disrobing, leaving a trail of garments up to the point she floated over the barrier and into the water.

Vanidaar shook his head and looked to Loric. He grinned. “Seems like we’ve been uninvited.”

The elder mage shook his head. “Pity.”

The group split up. Of those remaining, only Elsbeth, Cassin, and Annawen joined Aarlen and her daughters. The opposite side seemed crowded as the couples and extended family soaked, conversed and replenished their energy.

Sarai pulled on his wrist and Bannor found himself joining the gathering. Gaea loved new experiences and Bannor watched the goddess as she approached this new activity with wide-eyed enthusiasm. Wren and Damay were coaxed to join as well.

Up to his neck in steaming mineral water with his wife-to-be at his side, Bannor found the whole experience somewhat surreal. He was bathing with elders and goddesses. If someone had said a summer ago that he would be doing that, he would have deemed them three kinds of insane.

He glanced over to Daena and Janai. He saw the young ascendant was very conscious of the second princess’ presence. Janai, who was anything but shy, bathed, bounced, and carried on with her usual energy. That was one thing for certain. The shaladens certainly hadn’t slowed the T’Evagduran sisters down any. Ryelle who had always been reserved and cautious, openly smiled and simply seemed a happier person. Bannor guessed that the power of Eternity had not only given them strength and self assurance, but a broader sense of family and belonging. Sarai had always been strong, but part of that strength had always been tainted by her competition with Janai. Now that he thought of it, since the shaladens, the two sisters hadn’t so much as said a harsh word to one another. There had been the confrontation over Daena, but even then it had been brief.

“You seem very contemplative, my Son,” he heard Gaea’s echoing voice say.

He focused on the goddess lounging against the side of the pool, her long dark hair floating in the water around her. A golden sheen reflected on her green skin. The all-mother was happy and the energy filled the air around her. She smiled, jewel-like dark eyes peering into him with ancient wisdom.

“We’ve been through a lot,” he remarked. “Some of us have changed. I know I have. Change used to scare me…”

“And now?” the goddess prompted.

He looked toward Sarai. His wife-to-be’s chin came up. Her violet eyes met his gaze.

“There’s some change that still scares me a little.” He sighed. “I suppose that’s a good thing though… keeps me alert.”

The goddess nodded. She glanced to Kalindinai. “You did well in the casting.”

The Queen pushed a hand through her damp hair. “The shaladen and being here in Eternity’s heart is a marvelous tonic. I should feel exhausted but I feel excellent. I dare say I haven’t needed that chair for a bell or so, but it was probably best to be cautious.”

“Probably,” Gaea repeated with a smile. “Being with loved ones can do wondrous healing.” The green mother shifted her attention to Loric. “So, my Son, what do you think of your new toy?” She nodded back to the stone enclosure.

The elder glanced back. “I think it’s a good thing it’s here in eternity’s heart. It would scare a lot of people. My krillglobes made certain people—itchy—as it was.” He cast a look at Idun who paused in the chore of washing her daughter Euriel’s hair. The pantheon lady sniffed but made no comment. “If it works as we expect, then I suppose we shall have learned something.”

“I suspect you will have to learn something soon,” the all-mother remarked. “I have been monitoring Eladrazelle and Marna. The agitation I sense from them suggests that they may now have some kind of lead.”

“Well, that’s all the urging I need,” Dorian said. “I can soak later. I just needed to recover. I’m ready when everyone else is.”

“I believe I am fully recovered,” Gabriella remarked brushing back her hair. “Dom?”

“I’m fine,” Dominique responded.

“Lead me to it,” Euriel added. “Magic isn’t my strong suit, but if it means getting to the villain behind all this. I am more than ready.”

“I am prepared,” Idun offered.

“Well then,” Loric said. “Let’s get to it. Wren, May, Bannor, Daena you all have a part in this so get your war faces on.”

“Me?” Daena said. “How did I get involved?”

“Ziedra and Vanidaar will be using their mage skills. We need another ascendant to balance Bannor.”

“Balance?” Bannor repeated. “Uhhh, I don’t know anything about magic.”

Loric rolled his eyes. “Trust me. This is something you can do.”

He shrugged. “If you say so, I’ll give it my best.”

“Good man,” Loric said, toweling off. He dressed himself with a flip of his hand, clothing and jewelry folding out of nothingness to assemble itself around him.

Bannor stepped away a bit, politely giving the ladies privacy to dress. It didn’t take long with all the mages making attire appear from nowhere. The coven returned to the scrying circle. Loric, Aarlen, Elsbeth, and Senalloy conferred briefly. Calling Gaea and Ziedra into their circle, the six of them speaking in incomprehensible mage speak as they decided the best way to proceed.

Finally, it was Gaea who held up a hand. “I think I can settle it.” She turned on Bannor. “My Son, we are looking for a focal point. Do you know of anything from the Daergon enclave that might not have been destroyed?”

His brow furrowed. “Something that might have not been destroyed?” He frowned in thought. He wasn’t going to say that Garfang survived. That needed to be kept secret, he was certain it might cause a panic. He hoped Sarai wouldn’t say anything. He glanced to his wife-to-be. She returned his look, showing no sign that she might reveal that particular tidbit of information. Then it came to him. The collar he had destroyed. “What about recreating something from there exactly as it was before the explosion?”

Gaea smiled. “That would be perfect.”

“Okay, stand back, I don’t know how flashy this will be, I’ve never tried it before.” He glanced to Sarai who was still standing by him. “Star, really, I’m not jesting. Back up.”

Loric took hold of Sarai’s shoulders and eased her back a few steps.

When everyone was at a reasonable distance he held his hands out and visualized the pattern of Garfang’s collar, the one he had memorized down to the last iota in order to annihilate its threads. One time, it seemed like an eternity ago, he had created a new thread to track Wren. While far more complex, it was the same principle.

Focusing down into the Garmtur he visualized the patterns, and those ancient threads, and willed them to return to being. A little at time he drew upon his nola pushing more and more of his energy into the construct, drawing energy from Eternity and thrusting it into the growing mass.

As he continued, he realized this had become something huge, something more elaborate than he had even imagined. There were so many threads and so much power. It was too late now, he was already committed. If he didn’t lock it down, the backlash would… he couldn’t think about that now… He had to keep it under control.

Struggling and straining, he laced each thread into their places, willing the Garmtur to assemble the full structure. Each time he pushed, it would break apart under his will. It was simply too complex and too powerful to do at once.

A warm hand gripped his shoulder. <My Son, are you having difficulty?>

He didn’t have the necessary focus to spare in answering.

A warm presence filled his mind. An ancient steady intellect shored up his shaky efforts, pushing with firm and confident strength.

<You are strong enough to do this, my Son,> she told him. <If you are more precise, the power will seem less apt to fly out of control.> He felt her draw a breath. <I will hold it, you push.>

<Are you sure?> He struggled to get out.

<Excuse me?>

<Okay, I’ll push. You ready?>

<On three,> she told him. <One—Two… Three.>

He felt her clamp down on the structure. At the same, time he put all his energy and focus behind the Garmtur, and willed the threads into being… pushing for their re-existence.

With a flare of power that whited-out the clearing, the collar erupted into being between his outstretched hands. The effort made it feel like a punch in the chest. It sucked the strength right out his legs and he collapsed to his knees with a grunt, the black collar that had once controlled Garfang gripped in his hands.

He coughed and groaned, trying to get air with fluttering lungs. It took several tries but he finally did get a breath.

Sarai dropped down beside him. “Bannor, are you all right?”

“I—” He shook his head. “I will be once my head stops ringing. Whoa.” He blew out his cheeks and held up the collar. “Will this do? It was being used to control Garfang.”

Off to one side, he saw Senalloy’s violet eyes widen and she brought a hand to her mouth. She paled.

The look on the Baronian woman’s face made him go cold. Whatever her thoughts were, she didn’t voice them. She simply stared with a dismayed expression.

Gaea had also fixed on the collar with an unhappy expression.

“Damn, Bannor,” Loric said. “You didn’t have to show us up all by yourself. By the dark stars, that thing is powerful. Garfang was wearing it?”

Still unable to speak, Bannor nodded.

“I have a baaad feeling about this,” Cassandra muttered. “Look at the twists in the magic.”

“I see it,” Ziedra said stepping up. “Bannor, can I take it?”

He handed it to the gray-haired ascendant of Magic. She took the device from him with shaking hands.

Ziedra along with the others looked at the powerful device.

Aarlen stared at it, easily able to look over Ziedra’s shoulder. She pressed her hands together in front of her lips. “I—” She stopped. She shook her head. “Damn.”

“I don’t understand,” he finally managed to get out. “Why is everyone acting funny all of sudden?”

“We cannot just speculate,” Loric said. “We have to verify this, whether or not we like the possible conclusion. Come. Bannor, up.” He took his arm. Bannor allowed himself to be helped up and led a few steps over to one of the ‘seats of honor’. Loric held out a hand to Daena. “Lady Daena, if you please, sit here on the opposite side. I promise the two of you, this should be a painless procedure.”

The bewildered ascendant of attractions did as she was bid, sitting down with a thump.

“You want me here, right?” Gaea asked, pointing to a seat between them.

“Yes, Mother,” Loric agreed. He looked around. “Hmmm, we need someone else who isn’t a mage but has significant ener… you.” He pointed a finger at Corim who was sitting on the ground making notes.

The sagely warrior’s quill froze in its motion. He tilted his head up. “Pardon?”

“Up, Corim, time to stop taking notes and start participating.”

“Sir?” Corim said. “I don’t—”

“Sit!” Loric said pointing to the forth chair.

“Yessir!” Corim stood up and went where he was told. He sat down where indicated, looking uncomfortable.

“Janai,” Loric said, making a coming gesture. “Apprentice of Theln, time to be a mage.”

The second princess frowned.

Kalindinai stomped her foot.

Janai stiffened and went to her mother, casting a wary look at Loric.

“Radian, Desiray,” Loric coaxed. “The more of us the better. Pick a mirror and sit down. You’ll receive your instructions momentarily.” He turned to Ziedra who was standing by with the collar and held out his hand. He accepted the device and climbed up steps to the center of dais behind Bannor.

He twisted around to see what the powerful warmage was doing. Loric pressed a hand to the krillglobe and a cone of green light shot up out of it. In this fountain of illumination he placed Garfang’s collar. The item floated in the stream suspended a few hands above the globe.

“Let us all take our places,” he said.

Bannor threw out a hand. “What about me?”

“Sit.” Loric ordered. “Stay! You’re an anchor.”

“Be calm, my Son,” Gaea told him in her serene voice. “Loric wants us to be the fulcrum point for the scrying. He wanted some dynamics and juxtaposition between us to create a strong foundation. My age and Daena’s youth, male and female, inquisitiveness, and love… Simply relax when you feel the magic, don’t resist and let it work through you.”

The mages of the coven broke into two groups, one group gathering around Wren, and the other around Damay. Wren went to the center of giant stone platform on Bannor’s right and Damay the left. The two ascendants seemed just as confused about their roles as he did.

Loric guided Damay’s circle while Elsbeth seemed to be the leader of Wren’s circle. The mages seemed to break up in an even distribution of great elders, elders and younger magicians as they took their positions in front of the many mirrors. With the guidance of the master mages and a single spoken word, the great scrying circles hummed to life, the crystal underfoot and running through the pedestals sparking and glowing with magical energy.

Instructions were given to Wren and Damay and in a few instants Bannor felt the two ascendants reach out into their power, siphoning in magic and the power of Eternity. All the structures around them flickered and resonated.

“I still don’t understand what we’re doing,” Corim muttered.

“Be patient,” Gaea said in her calm voice.

Within a few moments of her words, Bannor felt a tugging. It did not feel uncomfortable, but the sensation did make him itchy. It was as if hair were growing and tickling inside his body. He used his thread sense to examine what was going on inside himself. Threads were blossoming into existence, spun out of the energies and physical presence of his body. The threads were tenuous, like ghosts and were drawn into the crystal channels running in the stone all around them. How very odd. Threads that were nothing more than faint glimmerings like manifest relationships in time and space. If he were not seeing it now, he never would have imagined such things existed. Fragments of causality unbound from time. Corim would be fascinated he was certain.

“Bannor?” Sarai asked, leaning closer to him.

“I’m okay,” he murmured. “Wish I had proper words to describe what this looks like. Our bodies, thoughts and minds are being used like seeds to make threads that the device uses to locate moments in time and space.”

“Huh?” Daena responded in an unhappy voice. “That only half made sense. Whatever it is, it feels like stuff crawling inside me.”

“Seeds,” Corim mused. “An interesting analogy.” He picked up his quill and parchment and scribbled something.

“It is a quite an unusual feeling—” Gaea remarked. The goddess’ words were cut off as crimson colors shot through the crystalline grid, causing the green fountain of energy over the ‘seats of honor’ to turn a bright gold. Streamers of magic and power were pouring into Wren and Damay, and from the glimpse Bannor could catch, images had begun to flicker on the surfaces of the mirrors of the two circles.

“Ah, it begins,” Gaea said with satisfaction. “I hope the result is not what some of us expect.”

“I saw Sen’s face when Bannor made the collar,” Corim said. “She seemed to recognize it.”

“Not the object itself,” Gaea said. “The jewel and the magic.”

“So, what is it?” Daena asked, looking over her shoulder.

“I think we’d rather not say before we alarm anyone,” Gaea said.

“The way you say that alarms me,” Sarai said, violet eyes wide.

Bannor felt a twist in his stomach. He realized now what had not occurred to him. The device controlling Garfang had been more magic than artifice. The magic had not been Baronian. It was something different, something powerful enough to control a creature able to slay eternals. Who had magic that strong?

The queasy sensation continued. Bannor wished he were sitting in either Corim or Gaea’s positions because he was struggling to see over his shoulder to what the two teams were doing. It was tough to tell as all of them had a similar posture, leaned back in the tall seats hands outstretched to the round mirrors with imagery flickering in front of them. He noticed that each person’s pictures seemed different, and to some extent each mage controlled the flow of visions.

He leaned forward to get sight of Senalloy. She sat at a mirror at the very edge of what he could see around the others in her circle. The grim expression on her face made a cold sensation go through him. Whatever she suspected seemed to be getting closer to being confirmed. The same agitation he saw in her expression was reflected in the red and black hues of her threads.

The strange tickling running through his body reached a peak, making him rub his arms. He let out a breath. Sarai rubbed his shoulder. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about it, instead focusing on the success of the whole venture.

In a few a breaths the crawly sensations tapered off.

“Ah,” Gaea said. “Our part is almost done.” In a few more instants, the threads being spun out of his body ceased entirely. “There.” The goddess rose from her seat. “Now we can see how things are progressing.”

“That’s it?” Daena asked, looking back.

“Indeed,” the All-mother assured her.

“Wizard,” Daena popped up out of her chair, obviously eager to be away from it.

Corim stood up and looked around with a furrowed brow.

Bannor rose and put an arm around Sarai. His wife-to-be immediately oriented in the direction of her mother. Together the two of them walked over to the scrying circle that Damay was providing with energy.

The elder Kel’varan sat with legs folded her body leaned back and balanced against her palms. Heat images flickered around the ascendant’s skin, multicolored sparks and moats of magic orbiting her limbs. Even with all the power pouring out of her, she seemed to be barely even exerting herself. If anything, from the expression on her face, it felt good.

They stopped briefly to look into the mirror that Janai was staring into. The second princess was a study in concentration. Images flickered by almost too fast to perceive, but Bannor noticed that she seemed to be making choices, accepting one path and discarding another. For her to make anything out at the speed at which the images moved she must be telepathically linked with the scrying crystal.

Daena came over and put her hands on Janai’s shoulders. The dark-haired elf lady acknowledged the gesture by rubbing her cheek against Daena’s knuckles. “It feels like we’re getting close,” she said in a whisper.

They walked a little further around the circle to where King T’Evagduran stood at the Queen’s shoulder as she too guided the search of her mirror.

Jhaan’s gaze met Bannor’s. The elder elf shook his head. “I like not the feel of where this is going,” he said in a soft voice.

“What do you mean?”

“This is a creature of power—of magick power—actively attempting to thwart their attempts to pinpoint its location.”

“Magic?” Sarai said. “I thought this was a Kriar!”

“Aye,” the King said. “As did I. I saw the grim looks when Bannor produced that device.” He pointed to the collar floating above Loric’s krillglobe. His gaze tracked to Senalloy who sat in the chair next to Aarlen. “Sen had the scent of it before we even started.”

Bannor tried to imagine what could possibly put that grim expression on the Baronian lady’s face. The woman was fearless. She looked death square in the eye without flinching.

“Damn this character is slippery,” Aarlen muttered. “Sen, Sind, Drue, we need to box him in.”

“Working,” Senalloy responded.

“Got it,” Sindra answered.

“I keep getting nothing but cold trails,” Kalindinai muttered.

“He’s leaving false images,” Janai said. “I don’t know how… but he’s doing it…”

“Daughter,” Gaea said in a calming voice, coming up on Bannor’s left. “Perhaps a bit of assistance.”

Kalindinai looked up from her mirror, amber eyes wide. She nodded.

Gaea stepped by the chair arm and laced her fingers with Kalindinai’s. “Leave us stop playing at his game and stab straight into the heart of matters.”

Kalindinai sucked a breath as the power of the all-mother rushed through her body making her skin shine with a greenish light. The flickering images on the mirror blurred into a crimson froth. Then a flare of blue light made them wince back.

“Ah,” Gaea mused. “That’s done it. He didn’t like that. Aarlen, Senalloy, I believe we have an active trace.”

“Coming!” Aarlen said, making a sweeping gesture with her hand.

“Right behind her!” Senalloy said.

“Son Loric,” Gaea said. “We have a good lead.”

“I heard!” Loric called back. “We’re tuning to it!”

“Son Corim,” Gaea said. “Call your brothers and sisters, you need to be prepared to jump in just a few moments.”

“Huh?”

“Your portal will be right there,” Gaea pointed to the krillglobe. The crystalline skin of device had begun to skimmer like the surface of water, a rainbow of colors licking over the surface in patterns. “If you do not jump immediately to the location and lock down the area, your perpetrator will escape.”

“Spit!” The man grabbed the shaladen band on his arm and began yelling for other members of the Shael Dal.

In instants, Megan flashed into being next to him, her wings fluttering and flashing. Tal and Terra were mere heartbeats behind her. The thing that surprised Bannor was that Koass himself along with Garn and Nethra appeared as well. It was obvious they were taking no chances.

“Nethra,” Gaea said. “You will want to brace the portal, the target will attempt to close it, the moment we create a connection.”

The red-haired eternal cracked her knuckles. “They can try…”

The krillglobe sparked and flared, the illumination around it growing brighter. Flashes of red appeared in the column of light radiating from the top of the device.

“Hit!” Elsbeth yelled thrusting a hand in the air.

“I have it as well!” Gabriella said waving a hand.

“Got it!” Senalloy called.

A humming thrummed in the air near the globe, a white incision beginning to lengthen and take shape.

“Found him!” Ziedra yelled.

“Here!” Cassandra called

“Pinned!” Dorian chimed in.

As each mage increased the focus of the scrying circle the portal grew more and more tangible.

“Why isn’t it opening?” Bannor asked.

Gaea frowned and looked back at the mirror. “Kal, you’re fixed?” She stepped over to Sindra and peered at her mirror.

“Just got it,” the elder offered looking up.

“I’m in,” Janai confirmed.

“Drucilla and I have it bracketed as well,” Aarlen reported. “It’s pinned down like a bug on a cork board.”

“The damn portal isn’t opening!” Loric growled.

Bannor stared at the tear in fabric of Eternity that should have opened with all the energy and magic being focused on it. In that glowing line, the fabric of two hugely separated physical spaces were connected. Thousands of magical threads were laced through the gap.

Bannor’s heart sped up. There was something else, another thread not like the others wound around and through them, choking them off, preventing the magic from completing the spatial circuit.

It was being held closed.

“Dammmn,” Bannor let out. “Lady Nethra, is it harder to open or close a gate?”

“It’s very tough to close an already open gate,” the Eternal answered.

“Bet it’s not nearly as hard to hold it closed before it opens,” he said.

“It—” The giant red-haired immortal let out a growl. “That sneaky bastard, he grabbed the flux point while it was still in transition! Damn it!”

“Can you force it open if I get it back?” Bannor said.

“You damn bet I can!” the Eternal snarled. She slammed a fist into her palm and stared at the slash of light hanging before her. She held out her hands, fingers outstretched. “Ready!”

“Here we go!” Bannor thrust his arm forward, and gripped that binding thread and yanked.

For the first time in his entire time using the Garmtur, a thread stretched. It didn’t break, unravel, or attenuate… its length changed and the windings clamped down even tighter, just like the energy was a woven reed cord.

All around the circle, Loric and the others let out yells and gripped their skulls. Bannor jerked at the noise, feeling his heart lurch. Damn, he never would have thought that would happen, and it fed back to the coven.

Whoever this was, they even knew about manipulating the threads of reality. Since he already had a hold of the enemy’s binding he tightened his grip down to a single point and pinched down.

Bannor gritted his teeth, feeling his thumping heart labor as he put more and more force into breaking the constricting energy. Whoever had done this possessed either amazing strength or phenomenal skill because even with his ascendant body he was struggling.

He glanced down to Sarai who was looking up at him with a concerned expression, violet eyes glowing in her radiant face. He would not let this creature run free to threaten either him, his wife-to-be or their unborn child.

Drawing a breath, he summoned all his will and smashed down on the resistance.

With a heave, the binding broke releasing the closed edges of the gate that Loric and the others were striving so hard to open. With a flare of sparks and a booming of air, the portal opened with a crash leaving a yawning circular hole hovering in front of the central dais.

“I have it!” Nethra yelled. “Go! Go! Go!”

Koass and Garn were already moving. Chest still aching and head smarting, Bannor stumbled forward behind them. Megan, Tal, and Terra were at his shoulder as he leaped into shiny flickering surface of the gate.

Bannor felt the kiss of magicks fluttering over him as he crossed the threshold into the new location. He landed with a thud and scrambled to one side to clear space as others came through the gate behind him in crackles of portal energy.

The area where they had appeared was nothing strange or alarming. It looked to be a sizable office. A large stylized desk sat at the rear of the room, a framed image of what looked like a star exploding dominating the back wall. A gold-skinned male was leaned back in large chair with the fingers of both hands pressed together and held at his lips. Eyes burning with a silvery light, he stared at them with a furrowed brow.

As Megan, Tal, Terra and others continued to file in through the rasping shimmering portal, Bannor summoned Xersis and transformed it into axes and braced himself. His gaze flicked around the chamber to the rear to check for other threats.

Except for the male obviously prepared and waiting for them, the place looked empty of life and magic. He saw no out-of-place threads or distortions that might disguise threats. Innocuous nature scenes in dark frames hung on the walls. The ceiling and wall lights, cabinets, couches, and potted plants were similar to the appointments found in Quasar’s tower. While his eyes saw no threat, there was an icy feel to the room, and a coppery smell that reminded him of death.

Koass and Garn already had their gleaming weapons out and pointed at the single occupant of the chamber. Bannor felt Megan brush up against him as she moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with her husband. Tal and Terra took up positions near blue-skinned Garn, who stood like a monolithic statue against the opposite wall. A hand touched his shoulder and he realized Sarai was there behind him, glaring at the creature that their magicks divined as the source of all their recent hardships.

It was a good thing it was a decent sized room because the portal continued to disgorge ascendants, Shael Dal, and elders. Aarlen, Elsbeth, Dominique and the T’Evagdurans came through followed by Wren, Ziedra, Daena, and the Kergathas. Last through were Senalloy, the Felspars, Gaea, and Nethra.

As the red-haired eternal hit the floor, looming massive and forbidding behind the all-mother, the portal winked out.

Immortal bodies glowed and the air sizzled with battle magic ready to be unleashed. Enough power to annihilate an entire pantheon of gods thrummed and shivered in the hands of the confrontation force.

The creature behind the desk stared at the assemblage. If he was afraid, it certainly didn’t show in his demeanor. What most troubled Bannor was the creature’s threads were totally obscured. He could sense their presence but could glean no information from them as to the character or power of the entity.

He glanced to Koass. The eternal was simply scowling, his glowing white eyes narrowed as he sized up their opponent. Blue-skinned Garn stood poised, hands able to crush mountains opening and closing with nervous tension.

The gold male sighed. He put his hands down on the desk in front of him, obvious in the way he kept them in clear view of the throng of warriors twitching and ready to attack at the slightest provocation. He leaned back, the lines of his narrow face set in an expression of disdain. The circular red jewel on his forehead flickered with shadows. “So,” the entity said in chilly resonating voice. “You found me. Now what?”

Garn growled and surged forward a step. He stopped when Koass threw out a hand.

“You can tell us what you’re about,” Koass said.

“I have no intention of telling you anything,” the male answered with a shrug.

“That might not be your intent Chyrith,” Gaea rumbled. “It is however, what you will do.”

The entity raised an eyebrow, his gaze fixing on Gaea. The creature’s silvery burning eyes narrowed. “Oh?” The sound of his voice rumbled with power that Bannor could suddenly feel vibrating in the walls. “An interesting boast incarnate.” He held out his hand, and in a flare of white sparkles the enemy genemar appeared, the one Bannor had hoped destroyed in the explosion. “Can you back it up without taking half of Eternity with you…?”

Return to Contents

Chapter Thirty-Seven

When I get angry, I scare myself…
—Bannor Nalthane Starfist,
Prince Conjugal of Malan

The power and anger made Bannor dizzy. The scrying circle had led them to the origin of all their recent pain and woe, and the arrogant posturing bastard sat there and laughed at them. He held a genemar in his hand and had the audacity to threaten Gaea with it. Either he was supremely powerful or abysmally stupid.

Bannor’s heart pounded, the anger so hot his body shook. After all the harm this creature had already done, to even suggest the annihilation of Eternity through Gaea was too much to stomach or countenance for even a breath.

The Chyrith’s threads were hidden from him but the primal essence of the newly summoned genemar was as clear as black paint on a white-washed wall. He thrust his nola into the heart of the device, became it, knew it—annihilated it.

In a thunderous crash of pounding energy, the icon of ultimate destruction folded in upon itself and imploded into nothingness. The force of the impact smashed the golden creature against the wall.

Rage drove Bannor forward in a flash, stepping across space in zero time to bring a whistling fist into the Chyrith’s midriff. He felt metal hard bone creak and flesh split under the force of the strike.

The enemy let out a gasp, its steely composure finally broken. The enemy lashed back with a punch meant to shatter Bannor’s face.

He brushed aside the attack feeling the heat burn his cheek.

“Threaten my family?” Bannor roared, slamming home another blow that smashed his opponent back against the wall. The Chyrith tried to counter, its body slipping through time to disembowel him, but the towering fury had driven Bannor so far into the Garmtur that anything was possible. He turned inside the swing, spinning an elbow into the entity’s face hammering its head against the bulkhead. “Threaten my wife? My mothers?” He pummeled away with all his strength, white blood spraying up from each impact. “I—don’t—think—so!” Face misshapen and body torn, the Chyrith dropped to its knees. Bannor gripped the entity’s hair and drew back a fist. Mercy for this wight? Not likely…

“Bannor—ENOUGH!” Gaea boomed.

The sound of Gaea’s voice shocked him out of his scorching blood-lust. He let go of the creature, allowing it to slide down the wall leaving a pasty white streak on the wall.

“Gods and goddesses, Bannor,” Wren breathed, hands pressed to her face.

“Damn,” Tal muttered.

Bannor looked around. He was covered in the creature’s white blood. The substance was crusted and dried on his clothing—what little of it remained. His shirt and leggings had been reduced to charred tatters. The desk the creature had been sitting behind was nothing but a smoldering hillock of slag. His fists still glowed and crackled with nola power. His body ached. He had sensed the creature’s defenses and simply plowed through them. He had been so angry he hadn’t felt the pain of the near misses or even sensed the danger.

“Garn, detain that creature,” Koass said.

The blue-skinned eternal thumped forward and jerked the battered Chyrith to its feet. Slapping dark shackles on the creature’s arms.

“My One?” Sarai said, staring at him with wide, violet eyes. There was fear in her eyes. In fact, she wasn’t the only one, even the elders looked alarmed.

“I—” He coughed. A spasm wracked through his body. “Urgh…” He staggered and eternal Koass stepped forward to steady him. “I think—I think I got a little carried away.”

“I’ll say,” Wren murmured. “He was all over you, I thought sure…” Her voice trailed off.

A flash of silver at the back of the group made Bannor focus. Tall Senalloy stood where the gate had opened, shaking her head. “This is bad.” Her voice, usually so steady, actually cracked, “one of the masters… here. We are so frelled…”

“Leave us go,” Koass said. “We…”

Bannor heard the energy cell of a heavy blaster rifle being clacked into position. “You are trespassing,” a cold male voice growled. “Stand down. Councilor Gharad is a Kriar citizen and you are in the sovereign demesnes of Fabrista Homeworld.”

Everyone turned to see Eclipse and Quasar at the entry with weapons leveled. The two Kriar were fully armored, obviously prepared for war. Behind them were numerous other figures all equally prepared to fight. Bannor only saw glimmers of the Kriar tarkath’s glowing blue eyes through the visor of his helmet.

Koass gritted his teeth. “This is no more your councilor than I am!”

Eclipse worried his feet into the deck keeping his weapon leveled on the group. “That might be true. Such determinations can be made at a proper Kriar inquest. At such time, extradition can be discussed. Stand down. I will not ask again.”

Nethra let out a growl. “You want to take us on Eclipse? All of us? I don’t like your chances.”

“Koass,” Quasar said in her icy voice. “I strongly urge you to reconsider. You take that councilor out of here, and you are giving the Daergons exactly what they want—another war with the Protectorate. To the citizens of Fabrista Homeworld, the Baronians are someone else’s problem. Eternals they remember, raiding inside our borders… we expect a little more courtesy from our neighbors.”

“Damn it,” Bannor growled. “You can’t hold this piece of trash!” He pointed to the Chyrith hanging limp in Garn’s grip. “His magic will tie your people in knots! You’re just frelling lucky we got to him first.”

“Eclipse, Quasar,” a distorted but recognizably female voice said from the doorway behind them. “Step back.”

The two military commanders stepped aside as three female figures all dressed in strange stylized blue armor and carrying black crystalline staves strode in. Bannor frowned seeing the threads of their items—magic armor? It wasn’t weak magic either. The lead figure touched the side of her helmet, the visor unfolding from around her angular gold features.

Marna focused glowing green eyes on the assemblage. Her gaze tracked to the mangled figure of the Chyrith Eclipse had identified as Councilor Gharad.

“Koass, I really can’t let you take him… for a lot of reasons. The Kriar people have to know how dangerous these creatures are and the threat they pose.” She glanced to Senalloy.

“He’ll get away!” Bannor snarled. “You can’t stasis this guy. I know. I can tell. The moment he’s conscious he will cut through your teleport blocks like they aren’t there! I got him only because he was cocky. These guys aren’t afraid of the eternals, they aren’t afraid of anything and there’s a reason!”

“And how would you know this, Child?” Marna said, staring at him with burning eyes.

“Because I’m frelling covered in his blood—!” He stopped as a wave of dizziness made the room do a slow roll in his vision. Sarai came and helped steady him. He swallowed and forced himself to focus. “You can’t hold him… I don’t know if we can.”

The smaller of the blue armored figures opened her visor. The elfin face of Eladrazelle was revealed. <Ena,> she pointed at something on her arm. <I’m inclined to agree with the boy. I think this magic is a little beyond our new tricks…>

“I knew this would happen,” Aarlen growled, brushing back her white hair. “This miscreant is so going to disappear…”

“No, he’s not,” Dominique growled, moving out of the group to stand with Marna. She pointed at the Kriar matriarch. “We are going to have a talk about this though. You didn’t call me—you said you would.”

“Okay, okay,” Wren blurted, holding up her hands. “Just calm down. I’ll fix it.”

Koass turned an incredulous look on her. “You’ll fix it?”

Marna folded her arms. “Explain.”

“Glad to,” Wren responded stepping forward and cracking her knuckles. “Give me a little room,” she made shooing gestures to clear the other members of the coven from around her. She brushed back her gleaming blonde hair and held out her hand. “Loric, give me Mon’istiaga.”

The gray-haired elder blanched and took a step back. “You jest.”

“I do not,” she said, keeping a level stare on him. “You want to make sure this creep doesn’t get away? I’ll fix him.”

“He can’t stand trial with his head chopped off!” Marna growled.

Wren rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to kill him. I’m simply going to make a little adjustment.”

“A little adjustment??? With a sword that cuts planets in half?” Aarlen rumbled. “Am I the only one who’s skeptical?”

“Mon’istiaga and I have an agreement,” Wren said. “He behaves or he never gets to come out and play.”

“Loric, trust Wren,” Gaea said. “I believe she knows what she’s about.”

Loric glanced around. “You’re sure, Wren?”

The blonde ascendant sighed. “Yes, I’m sure. I’m a big girl now. Hadn’t you noticed?”

The elder winced. “That’s what worries me.”

“We’ll take it slow. I haven’t tried using him as a full ascendant.”

Loric blew out his cheeks and reached over his shoulder into empty air. A ringing sound resonated through the room as the powerful blade of Shiva manifested in blaze of red sparks.

Loric’s hand shook as the weapon thrummed and vortexes of blue, gold, and green spun in dizzying orbits around the shimmering blade. The power around the item made the air itself seem to bleed.

“Wow, he’s pretty excited,” Wren remarked.

“I’m feeling a bit antsy too…” Damay said, holding a hand to her chest.

“Are you really sure?” Loric said, wincing as the weapon twisted and writhed in his grip, the air in the room was rippling and gusting as the mystic energies from the artifact of the first ones pulsed like a beating heart.

“Give it here,” she said. “He’s just trying to intimidate all the shaladens. It’s a competitive sword thing.”

“It’s doing a good job!” Tal rumbled.

Wren pried the weapon out of Loric’s hand, as her fingers closed fully around the hilt, a roar of power crashed around her, making the wind shriek and her body burn like golden fire.

“Oooh, that feels good,” Wren murmured in an echoing voice that made the room tremble. The blonde ascendant’s face was lost in shadow, and her blonde hair whipped and writhed as though in a gale. Her glowing blue eyes had become livid slits of smoking flame.

Bannor felt Sarai clutch his arm. Daena and Janai who had been lost in the crowd suddenly had him between them and Wren.

The Kel’varan sighed, the chamber seeming to flex and resonate with her breathing. She put a hand on Loric’s shoulder. The powerful elder flinched like he expected it to hurt. “You see,” Wren boomed. “Mon’istiaga’s thing is fear and intimidation. The more scared you are, the better he likes it. He is very, very male. He reads your thoughts and auras. If fear and intimidation are part of your make-up, he just naturally has to demonstrate his authority.” She took a step toward Aarlen, the blade rumbled like a hungry animal. The pale woman swayed back, holding herself still, but obviously affected by the display. “He really likes you Aarlen.”

“I can’t say it’s mutual,” the elder replied in a tight voice. “Do you really have control of that thing?”

“Does a rider really have control of the horse?” Wren looked around. “Garn, bring that freak over here so we can get this over with.”

“I still don’t understand,” Marna growled. “What can a sword do?”

“Shiva was a disciple of destruction,” Wren said. “This blade cuts anything—hopes, dreams… it can cut your bones and leave no scratch.”

Garn stomped up with the Chyrith under his arm. The blue-skinned eternal frowned, his glowing eyes flickering. “This ain’t honorable, but I can’t say this blight deserves any less.”

Wren held the blade in both of her hands. “Mon, if you draw so much as one drop of this arse’s blood, I am never using you again. Is that understood?”

The weapon made a moaning sound.

“I mean it. You cut his magic and that’s it. They need his mind and they need his spirit—just his magic. Got it?”

The blade made a rumbling.

She crashed the weapon on the floor. The strike made everyone in the room reel back a step.

“I mean it!” she yelled at the weapon.

Mon’istiaga made a different sound, one that sounded more like acquiescence.

“All right then,” Wren said. She stepped up and made a crosswise cut through the Chyrith’s abdomen.

The insensate creature howled. Its eyes went wide, shafts of light radiating from dark orbs. The entity’s body thrashed and writhed for a moment and then went still.

“Ewww,” Daena breathed.

“Do it again,” Sarai growled, huddling close to Bannor. He pulled her closer.

Wren was studying the Chyrith and shaking her head. “Damn these creatures are powerful.”

“What is it?” Marna asked.

Gaea raised her chin. “His magic is growing back.”

“How is that even frelling possible?” Aarlen wondered.

“I think if you stasis him now, the growth will be slowed enough that his magic won’t be a problem for a while,” Bannor said. “His magic is going to need regular trimming. I—” He shook his head, noting the speed at which the entity’s threads were restoring themselves. As powerful as his own tao was, this Chyrith possessed a life-force even more persistent. “Just whoa. I don’t know why I’m still alive.”

“Because you don’t know your own strength,” Wren murmured, her voice echoing and pinging in the room. She raised the blade of Shiva, the weapon rumbled and hissed. “You know Marna, it might be better if this guy was dead. I can’t stand guard over him with Mon’istiaga night and day—that would be dangerous.”

Marna was staring at the Chyrith, obviously conflicted. “Koass—truly—for the sake of my people we need to hold this—thing—here on Fabrista Homeworld. We need to show this threat for what it is.”

“It’s not going to help,” Senalloy said, shaking her head. “If the masters come…” She blew out her cheeks.

“These creatures can’t be invincible,” Koass said.

“They have whole galaxies as breeding colonies,” Senalloy said. “They crush resistance like a swarm of insects. There’s no way to stop that without numbers… numbers that don’t exist in Eternity. They have unified an entire universe to their purpose.” She sighed. “Our universe…” She gestured to Gaea. “Our universe…” Her voice trailed off. “I was really getting fond of being free.”

“We don’t know for sure they are coming here,” Marna said.

“No,” Senalloy said. “We just have a spy. One of the ruling cast here on Homeworld. Why would one of them come when they have trillions of slaves?”

“Trillions?” Someone murmured.

“Koass,” Senalloy said. “Help Marna. Neuter the Chyrith if you can. Put him on trial, make an example, get the Kriar people in the fight. As we know, the Karanganoi didn’t go near the Chyrith, the Chyrith went after them. If this agent was here, Fabrista Homeworld is targeted. This whole incursion was a test to assess our strength. Homeworld, the Protectorate, every god, every goddess, every elder in this universe and all their combined resources—that’s what it will take—just to slow these creatures down. If you don’t have a completely unified front, whole worlds will fall in days. Once they get a foothold they can’t be stopped. The only thing that gives us any chance at all is that Gaea is personified here in the flesh. They won’t be able to turn her against us—” She swallowed. “At least I hope not.”

“Well, ain’t that a rosy picture yer painting?” Tal muttered, rubbing the back of his head. “Here I was starting to get bored…”

“If they aren’t stopped, it’s a lifetime of war, an eternity of never ending battle.” She let out a breath. “To do what we did,” she gestured to the mangled Chyrith. “That will never be forgiven if they learn of it.”

“Your words have a frightening ring of truth,” Marna said.

<Believe her Mother,> the last figure thought, lowering her visor. Dulcere’s dark eyes were narrow and her expression hard. <Sen would never tease about something this big.>

“What the frell do we do?” Daena burst out. “We can’t mobilize an entire universe. I mean I don’t want to be anybody’s slave or anything, but this is…” Her voice trailed off.

“It’s big,” Aarlen said. “It’s big and I’ve been expecting it. So, have Vulcindra and Elsbeth. Right?” She glanced over at the red-haired Shael Dal.

Elsbeth pushed a hand through her hair. “The sixty-one worlds of the thirty-first magocracy have been preparing to fight for centuries. Albeit our preparations were against a Daergon incursion, but these Chyrith seem a far more insidious evil…”

“Wren,” Garn rumbled. “Cut this slob again, he’s starting to twitch.”

Everybody glanced back to the giant blue eternal. Indeed the Chyrith was twitching.

“You know, we’ve been standing here talking,” Corim said. “Isn’t anyone worried this creature might go into shock and die?”

“Killing that frelling thing is the least of our worries,” Bannor growled. “Keeping it unconscious and preventing it from killing anyone else is the problem.”

Wren made another slash through the body of the creature causing it to yell out and thrash in pain. Another creature and there might have been some empathy among the observers, but no-one seemed ready to give solace to this invader.

“Gaea,” Marna asked. “Can you keep this creature detained?”

The green mother looked at the Chyrith. After a moment she sniffed. “It is within my capabilities, yes.”

Marna stared at her. “Why are you answering that way?”

“Because,” Gaea answered. “You were going to come in here without telling us, without the eternals as back up and we not only would have lost him, we would have lost you as well.”

“You don’t know that.”

Gaea folded her arms. “I do know that. Aarlen might be excessive in her criticism of you, but she is not wholly wrong about your motives in this maneuver. You would have swept this under your skirt and denied us access to this villain.”

“It was just supposed to be a misguided Kriar citizen!” Marna bristled.

“My child,” Gaea pointed to Bannor. “Made it possible for you to track down the seeds of dissent this beast has been sewing. I—we—expect a little more courtesy.”

<Aie aie aie,> Eladrazelle said gripping her ears. <Enough. Ena, apologize to them, patch this up and let’s get this creature locked down. It’s making me nervous!>

Marna glared at Eladrazelle. The little Kriar looked back.

After a moment, the matriarch deflated. “All right, Gaea,” she looked around. “Koass—everyone—I apologize. We will endeavor to demonstrate more solidarity in the future. Especially if this creature represents the threat that Senalloy says.”

“I accept,” Gaea said. “As Eladrazelle says, having this creature in the open is making me nervous. Leave us all go to a place you know to be secure.”

Eclipse tapped something on his arm. “Tarkath Shargris requesting secure point-to-point transport to security station Sabre-alpha. Alert Tarkath Chauser and have him on station to verify secure.” There was an acknowledging tone.

Wren put Mon’istiaga on her shoulder and looked around. “Yes, I’m feeling that nervous thing too.”

“If any Daergons come near us, I’m knocking them into next week,” Daena said.

“How closely was this councilor tied to the Daergons?” Koass asked Marna.

“Before Bannor’s intelligence, his connections were covered perfectly. There is a great deal of circumstantial hints that indicate a great level of involvement. For instance, I surmise that the genemar being used to attack the savants and the eternals was as Gaea surmised… a newly manufactured genemar.”

People in the room murmured.

“Damn, so I just now destroyed the real one then,” Bannor said.

“Or perhaps another duplicate,” Gaea said with a frown. “I don’t like that prospect.”

“Aye,” Koass said. “There’s no solace in that to be certain.”

“So,” Marna continued. “Despite everything we garnered from Bannor and our investigations, there were a lot of things pointing here but nothing really solid to confirm it. It wasn’t until I felt Dominique gate here, that I surmised you had ascertained his identity magically.”

Dominique frowned. “You were monitoring me?”

Marna raised an eyebrow. “I knew neither you nor your friends were going to wait for due process. If you could get to him first you would… So, of course, I was not going to let you abscond—” Her voice cut off and her eyes went wide.

At the same instant Bannor felt some kind of energy surge from outside whatever structure they were in. “Out!” He yelled. “Get us out now!”

Bannor dragged Sarai and Janai close, then pulled Daena so that he and she shielded the two princesses with their bodies. He felt flash heat on his already burned skin and a demon wind gusted through his hair. He spun Xersis into a shield around them all just as the air in the room flared white and an ear numbing roar shook glass and furniture to pieces. A shock like being hit with a mallet spun the four of them. Sarai and Janai screamed. At the same time he felt the threads of eternity twist and kink around them.

The bubble of the shaladen encasing their bodies hit with a slam, bringing Sarai, Janai, and Daena down on top of him with breath-stealing thud.

“Whooof!” he groaned.

“Ack!” Sarai gasped. “Urgh. H-heavy!”

“Car—ellion,” Janai gurgled. “D-dane…”

“Sorry,” Bannor felt the other ascendant brace and lift some of her weight.

Bannor saw Sarai’s violet glowing eyes blink in the darkness of the cocoon of the shaladen. “W-what happened?”

He shook his head slowly. “Don’t know,” his voice came out muffled in the tight confines. “Some kind of blast…”

There was a rapping sound on the shell of the shaladen. “You can come out…” said the muffled words.

Bannor unfolded the shaladen from around them. Still smoldering and smoking debris fell from the surface of the mystic weapon. Aarlen and some of the others were brushing cinders and flames from their hair and clothing. It looked like everyone who had been in the chamber including Marna and her guards stood on the ledge in the vast chasm that Bannor remembered from his first “official” entry into Homeworld. Kriar and the creatures of a dozen other races were staring at the group as they tamped out flames and tossed off burning clothing.

Bannor helped Sarai and Janai to stand. “Sorry about being rough.”

“Where’s mother?” Sarai said looking around.

Janai pointed. “She, Father and Rye are okay.” She let out a sigh. She gave Bannor’s arm a squeeze. “Thanks, Brother.” She shook her head. “My ears—I can barely hear.”

The Queen focused on them after shaking the soot and flames off her clothing. She rushed over to give her daughters a hug. “That—that was too close.”

Gaea scrubbed her long hair with a growl. “Marna, not that I should tell you how to do your job, but don’t you think it’s time you did something about those rebels?”

Marna was gripping her hair and checking to make sure everyone had been safely warped out before the explosion. It looked like everyone was accounted for including Garn and the prisoner. “Trust me—that was the dark-damned last straw!” She yanked off her helmet and slammed it on the deck in an uncharacteristic display of anger. “Quasar!” She whipped around and pointed a finger at the tarkath. “If I give you martial authority and promise pardons to anyone from the shadow realms that you get to assist, can you clean out the last of these Daergon vermin? I want them gone!”

The female tarkath stared at Marna with wide glowing eyes. “I—” She blinked. She stared at Eclipse who also looked shocked. They both looked at Marna.

The Vatraena put hands on hips. “Well?”

Quasar opened her mouth, then shut it. She drew a breath. “Uh… yes?”

“Yes, what?” Marna growled.

“Martial authority, my pick of disavowed shrike legion veterans,” she sputtered. “Of course.”

“How long?”

Quasar reeled back a step. She shrugged. “A tenday—maybe two—are you…”

For the first time Bannor saw Quasar’s steely demeanor turn tentative. Seeing Marna assertive, forceful, angry… it was obviously a new experience for her.

“I am certain, Tarkath,” Marna snarled. “It’s one thing to threaten me, but to make an attempt on the Eternals and pull us into another war, not once but twice. This farce must be dealt with and harshly. Quasar, I will have the paperwork for you first thing tomorrow after I throw a half-dozen councilors in the brig.” She aimed a finger at the jeweled Kriar. “No more retired-detached-specter-military though. Either you are an active duty officer or you are civilian. Which is it?”

Quasar’s mouth dropped open again. “Vatraena…”

“Yes or no?” Marna snapped. “In or out? Remember, you have brig time coming, so if you’re not going to be useful, you can report to detention starting now. I can get Chauser to do it.”

“Chauser can’t find dug-in insurgents!” Quasar snapped. “He’s barely more than a deck officer!”

“Is that a ‘yes’?” Marna said with a glare.

Quasar swallowed. “Yes.”

“Good,” Marna said with a nod. “Now get those gawkers out of here and get me that damned secure point-to-point. Where the dark is Chauser?!” She slapped her sides. She turned to the Advocate Eternal. “My apologies, Koass.” She looked to Gaea. “Mother Gaea, and the rest of you. Be assured, I want to this to be the last time splinter members of the Fabrista take provocative action against allied representatives.”

“We know things have been a mess,” Koass said. “Hopefully, this extreme action you’ve authorized will net some results.”

“I have tried every legitimate method. These craven spout off about my weakness, about the way I coddle lesser races and drag the Kriar ever closer to the darkness. Time and again, these imbeciles incite strife and attempt to embroil us in conflict in order to get their wrong-headed representatives into power… it is absolutely maddening. How any of my own kind could have devolved to this level of barbarism…”

Koass raised a hand. “Marna, I understand your frustration. I think several of us here could relate.”

Aarlen shrugged. “In my own experience, I found mass executions generally tended to quiet things down.”

Marna scowled at the white-haired woman.

“Such sterling advice,” Elsbeth scoffed with a roll of her eyes.

A low thrumming sound pulsated from Eclipse’s wrist. The Tarkath raised his arm. “Shargris, go.”

He blinked and the jewel on his forehead flashed. He nodded and sighed. “Chauser apologizes for the delay. Apparently, there was trouble at Kul’Amaron.”

The King’s amber eyes went wide. “Please tell me the citadel is still there.”

It sounded funny but Bannor knew he was serious. The grip Sarai put on his arm said she too took that question very seriously.

“Everything is fine. Apparently, the new Sabre-wing unit is already very effective. Stand ready for transport…”

In a matter of a few heartbeats they were drawn into darkness and reappeared in an arrival circle similar to the one Dulcere had taken them too at the Kriar waypoint. The surroundings looked much like any other place on Homeworld. It all seemed to blur together to Bannor. The only difference that jumped out to him was how thick and sturdy the walls seemed to be, colored a flat uniform blue color. Marna had mentioned they were going to a detention facility. The smooth featureless walls with no adornment of any sort reminded him of a large cage. If not for the administrative tables he would have assumed they had appeared in a cage.

Chauser, dressed in full battle armor and carrying one of the big weapons stood ready with a dozen other Kriar soldiers. The surprising thing was that tiny Millicent was also present. The valkyrie commander stood behind Chauser also dressed in a close-fitting Kriar carapace, her wings sheathed in a black webbing. Three of her subordinates flanked her, spears burning and shields giving off a powerful radiance.

“Tarkath,” Marna said addressing Chauser. “We need a tenth order containment unit. Arrange it quickly.”

The Kriar’s black eyes widened. <Tenth order? We have nothing prepped like that. I’ll need a few kilorevs…>

“Hurry,” Marna said with a grave tone.

<Vatraena,> Chauser acknowledged with a bow of his head. <Take him to the end of the wing. We’ll set it up there.>

Bannor’s attention was drawn away from Marna’s conversation to a swift movement as a dark form took four fast strides across the chamber and a seething blade of liquid power arced around.

The Chyrith prisoner let out a howl, making everyone in the room jerk, including Garn, the blue eternal holding him. All gazes turned to Wren.

“Hellooo,” Wren said, in that skin-prickling echo. She tossed her head, gleaming blonde hair wrapped in shadow. Her normally blue eyes burned like fire. Was it his imagination? The glow seemed stronger than before. “We need to speed this up! Mon’istiaga is really, really hard to control.” She flipped the glowing weapon up leaving smoking trails in the air and rested it on her shoulder. She had gotten very casual with a sword that could cleave worlds in two. She turned to Chauser, who was half way to the door. “Chauser.”

The saber-legion tarkath turned his gaze on her. <Yes?>

“This guy,” she pointed to a male Kriar behind the administrative desk. “How well do you know him?”

The Kriar who was watching them with dark eyes flinched. To look at him, there was nothing out of place or unusual. He was about as typical and non-descript for his gold-skinned kind as they got. He wore the black and silver suit and armor pieces like all the soldiers of the Kriar militia. Bannor did see a flare of red in the soldier’s threads; a burst of perfectly controlled concern and anger that did not show in his face.

Chauser’s attention went to the Kriar Wren indicated. <Beltan?> He frowned. <He’s been part of this command for gigarevs.>

“Well,” Wren said in that powerful voice. She slashed out and down with Mon’istiaga, causing the air to boom.

The Kriar howled and fell back, his forearm and half-pulled weapon flopping on the deck beside him.

All around Wren, Kriar oriented weapons on the ascendant as she kept her sword aimed at Beltan.

“Your Beltan there is a Daergon,” she said wiggling the tip of her sword. “Mon’istiaga is always hungry for the blood of enemies, so he’s constantly sniffing for them.”

On his knees, the Kriar groaned. Clutching the severed stump of his arm he glared at her. The three other Kriar who had been sitting at the various workspaces behind the desk had taken up positions to guard their comrade.

<Wren, don’t move,> Dulcere declared, weapon oriented at the back of the blonde ascendant’s head.

“You folks have your weapons aimed at the wrong person,” Wren said, unconcerned.

<Wren, put down that weapon,> Chauser ordered.

The ascendant shook her head. “Not going to happen,” she said. “I wouldn’t recommend shooting me. Those blast weapons just make me stronger and Mon’istiaga will annihilate anything that attacks me.”

Beltan snarled. He drew a breath and his dark eyes flashed.

A blast blew the downed Kriar rolling across the floor and sent the three defenders reeling.

“Ouch.” Wren winced. “Did I forget to mention I damaged those matrix stones? Time powers are such a nuisance.”

“Wren, stop this,” Marna ordered.

“You stop it, Marna. You’re the boss lady. Seriously, he’s a Daergon. If you want him alive, you better restrain him.”

“Marna,” Bannor said in a level voice. “I think she’s right. I sensed enemy intent just before she struck him.”

“Well, if he wasn’t an enemy before, he sure is now,” Tal rumbled with a gruff voice.

“Speak Beltan,” Koass said, raising a glowing hand. “Are you a Daergon or not? Eternity can ascertain your innocence.”

“Gahhh!” The injured Kriar launched to his feet and plunged toward Marna, a plasma blade sprouting from his hand.

Startled by his sudden movement, guns already out and prepared, swung in line and fired. The shots pierced his body but didn’t stop his momentum. Bannor never even saw Wren move, but the ascendant flashed into being between the two. Mon’istiaga blocked the arc of the weapon then hacked down through the Daergon’s remaining arm in a spray of white blood.

The Kriar hit Wren head on but might she might as well have been a wall for all the effect he had. He rebounded with a guttural snarl of agony. Wren plunged Mon’istiaga through his shoulder and pinned him to the deck.

The Daergon shrieked, writhing and bleeding.

Putting a foot on the Kriar’s back to hold him down, Wren glanced back at Marna. “Believe me now?”

The Vatraena stared at the agent with narrowed eyes. “Chauser.”

The Tarkath’s gaze went to her, his expression grave. <Vatraena.>

“I believe Wren has found an intelligence leak,” she said.

He let out a breath and nodded. <Seargas, take Beltan into custody and stasis him.>

Wren pulled the sword out of her opponent and stepped back as the Kriar approached. She put the sword on her shoulder and sighed.

“Wren how did you do that?” Marna asked.

She looked back. “Do what?”

“Warp into his path. Nothing moves that fast without skipping ticks in time,” she said.

“Oh that,” Wren said with a shrug. “That’s what I was trying to tell everyone before I was interrupted. Don’t you notice anything different about me?”

“You mean besides the whole dark and scary thing?” Daena said.

“She’s bigger,” Ziedra said. “Her aura has grown a lot.”

“Mon’istiaga is a busy little sword. He wants to make sure I never put him away, so he’s been destroying all your limiters.”

“Limiters?” Marna said with a raised eyebrow.

Wren rolled her eyes. “Okay, he’s been going through unblocking all those limiters you didn’t put in us, turning on all my powers, evolving this body and making it feel just marvelous.”

“Wren?” Gaea said.

“Mother, I am fine. We just need to hurry. Please.”

Marna turned to Chauser and made a shooing gesture. “You heard her. Hurry up.”

He nodded and raced out of the room.

The Vatraena watched the tarkath leaving for a moment then looked back to Wren. “You can detect enemies now?”

Wren nodded.

Marna tilted her head. She glanced back at the Chyrith. “Stab him again and let’s take a little stroll.” She looked back. “Cere, Zelle, Quasar, Eclipse—we’re going to make sure the rest of the Sabres are pest free.”

Koass frowned and glanced at Wren. “Marna are you sure that’s wise? Mon’istiaga is getting more wild by the moment.”

“Indeed,” she said with a nod. “Better to find enemies to unleash that power on, rather than allies.”

Euriel stepped out of the crowd. “Li?”

Wren met her mother, dropping to her knees to sweep an arm around her. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” she murmured. More for herself than for her mother, Bannor thought. She was harnessing more and more power as Mon’istiaga tried to tempt her with the infinite potency of the first ones.

Wren rose. She glanced at him with burning eyes, then back to Marna. “Let’s take out the trash…”

Return to Contents

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Gaea and her children have left a
permanent mark on the Kriar. They are our
saviors and our ultimate nemesis. It is a
juxtaposition that will always make our
alliance an uneasy one…
—Marna Solaris,
Prime Counsel dasta Fabrista

Bannor, like the others, spent that next portion of bell in an uneasy watchfulness all gazes fixed on the mangled body of the Chyrith which even after Wren’s multiple assaults continued to reform. The creature was indeed a monster of amazing potency. All the time she was gone, Bannor telepathically lived in Wren, lending her his strength, helping her to resist the powerful lure of Mon’istiaga. She held on with fierce determination as the bindings of time and space grew more and more transparent to her gaze.

Brother, I can see myself. She had murmured in his mind in a voice equal parts awe and fear. He could only shudder and hold on tighter so as not to be swept up in miasma of the sword’s onslaught of ecstasy.

A half a bell seemed like an eternity. After the fall of the first covert operative, the others seemed to be expecting Marna’s agent of absolute judgment. They did not go quietly and tried their best to destroy both Marna and Wren. Despite the danger, Bannor was less concerned with some injury to Wren than her control slipping and his good friend being swallowed up in Mon’istiaga’s destructive obsession.

Three operatives had been eliminated by the time Marna’s clean-up expedition returned in time to seal away Councilor Gharad. They wore grim expressions. Wren’s clothes were splashed white with Kriar blood, her blonde hair a shining crown of shadows that burned and writhed with the energies of Eternity. Marna, and the other Kriar stayed back from her as she moved with wooden steps into the chamber.

She glanced to the Chyrith, sneered and hacked through its magic with a contemptuous slash of her blade. She stared at its twitching body with burning eyes. After a moment, she looked to the cell where they planned to store the creature and frowned. “Guess it will have to do.” She turned her head slowly until her gaze locked on Loric.

The elder actually flinched. The blonde ascendant’s slightest glance exuded menace. She made a hooked ‘come-here’ gesture with her finger.

The gray-haired elder moved toward her, making a show of being nonchalant but his caution was obvious to Bannor.

“Wren?” he asked.

She closed her eyes and pointed to something over Loric’s left shoulder. “Open up the sheath.”

He straightened and gestured. The air near him became a shimmering nimbus like the surface of water.

Wren swung Mon’istiaga off her shoulder. The blade made a growl and flicked up toward Loric’s neck. The elder flinched but held still as the burning shaft hovered hairs from slashing his throat. People around the room made a collective gasp knowing that none of them could do anything—not even the eternals.

The blonde ascendant snarled. “Mon, you touch him, touch anyone, and not only will I never use you again I will take you out to the edge of the Eternity and drop you off in nothingness.”

There was grumble and a shriek of even greater power that made Wren rise up to her toes. “Urgh…” she gritted. She drew a breath, drew back and stabbed the weapon into the space by Loric’s head, the blade vanishing into nil-space. She pulled her hand out of the emptiness and made a swatting gesture like she were slamming a cupboard closed.

Loric who had one eye tightly shut and face screwed up in a cringe, relaxed.

The dark aura surrounding Wren dispersed, leaving her gleaming like sheets of polished gold reflecting the bright light of the sun. She let out an immense sigh like the weight of a planet had been lifted off her shoulders.

“Sorry about that,” she apologized, giving Loric a hug.

The elder blew out a breath as he hugged her back.

Wren pushed back from him and scanned the room and her gaze focused Bannor. She came toward him and threw a crushing embrace on him. She didn’t say anything, she simply held onto him. He felt the potent lady trembling.

He patted her on the back and smiled. “I don’t know what the hug is for, but I’ll accept it.”

Wren pushed back a little. “Brother, sometimes you’re too modest.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for helping me hold together. That was tough.”

The Kriar finished securing the Chyrith. Gaea sealed the creature with some ancient and powerful incantations that prevented the creature from regenerating through the stasis.

The assemblage stood in the hall outside the containment chamber and stared at the thing that had been their enemy from the shadows. The mangled golden body looked like many other sentient creatures, but it represented something far more foreboding. Senalloy said that the presence of one of the “masters” represented a terrible omen of war; a conflict whose scope went beyond worlds and alliances to a battle that threatened all of existence. The idea alone seemed absurd. Bannor had experienced too much in the last score-day to let denial close his mind though. It wasn’t a matter of ‘if’, but ‘when’.

He looked over his shoulder toward Senalloy who was standing in the back of the group near Dulcere and Corim. “So, how long do you think?”

The Baronian lady trained her violet eyes on him. She sighed and shook her head. “Hard to say. The way we took apart this incursion will probably hold them off a while. Half a decade, a decade, maybe two…” She shrugged. “Anytime is too soon.”

“There I must agree,” Marna said with a grim voice. “All we can do is assume the worst and prepare ourselves as best we can.”

Daena looked around at all the people. “So, what do we do?”

Still staring at the cell Koass sighed, his broad shoulders rounding down. To see a creature of truly cosmic power in a display of helplessness made a cold shiver go through Bannor. “Go home,” the Eternal said. “Go home and enjoy yourselves. Make your lives as full as you can. It will be a few turns of the seasons before these creatures are ready to move.” He turned and looked around. “In the interim, those of us who intend to fight, who aren’t already training, should start.” His glowing eyes fixed on Bannor and he realized the remark was aimed at him. His gaze shifted to Daena. “You too, young lady.”

Daena put a hand to her chest. “Me? Haven’t I been doing well enough?”

Koass folded his arms. “And how well would you fair in a fight against your sister?” He nodded toward Wren.

Daena blinked and looked over at the blonde savant. “That’s not fair! Train is about all she does!”

The eternal shrugged. “It’s your skin. Remember, you work for me now.”

Daena’s green eyes went wide.

“I think you can sneak some training in between parties and school,” Ziedra said with a grin.

The auburn-haired girl snorted. “Getting sweaty and being punched is not my idea of fun.”

“Ena, I’ll train with you,” Janai said. “It’s not that bad.”

“You will?” Sarai said, jaw dropping.

The elder sister waved a hand in front of her face. “I like being a Shael Dal. I want to stay a Shael Dal. If that means getting sweaty,” she sighed. “That’s what I will do.”

“So, yer ready to do missions, is it?” Tal said with a raised eyebrow.

The dark-haired elf rolled her eyes. “What has all this been? One long grueling mission! Anything else should seem like a bloody picnic! If there’s anything I’ve learned—service to the Protectorate is not about how hard you can smack something. A shaladen is quite a bit more versatile than that.”

“Is that so?” Koass said with a shake of his head. “Who did you learn that from? I know it wasn’t Falor.”

The burly warrior snorted.

“Levity aside,” Koass said. “I plan to arm every trustworthy and resourceful candidate with a shaladen. Shaladens will be created for each of Gaea’s trusted children for when you are called to active duty. As I said earlier, we will be inducting members of the Kriar and Chosen above and beyond the Sabre-wings, as long as they are willing to abide by our edicts.”

Bannor tried to imagine creatures like Quasar and Eclipse armed with shaladens. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Koass was taking a big chance. What if the Kriar decided to turn on the eternals?

He glanced to Gaea. The green mother was his insurance. Of course, the Kriar truly had bigger worries if they were indeed targeted as Senalloy said.

“So, am I understanding that this is a stand down order?” King Jhaan asked, stepping forward.

“Yes,” Koass answered. He continued, his powerful thoughts rolling out through the shaladens and probably out to the minds of all those that had been involved in the conflict. <Developments in the situation with the Kriar and Baronians give me sufficient confidence to issue an official stand down from alert status.> Koass intoned, his expression showing some relief but still looking very grave and solemn. His booming thought-voice resonated across the vast reaches of realms to people in eternity’s heart and all the way back to Kul’Amaron. <Recent efforts by Wren Kergatha and Vatraena Solaris will have driven the Daergon insurgency underground. In my estimation, neither the Daergons nor the recently routed Baronian war forces will threaten us in the immediate future. Therefore, all currently active staff are granted leave. A rotating roster to fill critical and essential roles in eight-bell shifts will be posted in the morning two days hence. An all-staff meeting to report our final clean-up findings will be held on payday at noon. That is all.>

Koass straightened and blinked his glowing eyes. “I wish I could be more happy about making that announcement.”

“It could be worse,” Gaea said nearby.

“Aye,” he agreed. “Far worse indeed.” He turned to the elf lord. “Jhaan, you were going to request temporary housing for the court of Kul’Amaron while the clean up proceeds, yes?”

The King bowed. “Yes, Sir, we were.”

“Granted. You have a lease of three score-days. Please see eternal Culavera to see to the securing of the space, we don’t want any kiters using your portals to gain access to Eternity’s Heart.”

Jhaan nodded and saluted. “Thank you.”

Koass nodded. He looked around. “Thanks for all your work everyone. As a thank you to those that helped, we will be tendering access permissions and temporary use of the paradise powers in Eternity’s heart.” He looked to Marna. “The day after tomorrow at seven bells please come to my quarters.”

The Vatraena nodded.

He swung a hand to Gaea, Aarlen, and Elsbeth. “This concerns you three as well.” He frowned. “Though it pains me, I must include Vulcindra as well.” He leaned to one side and caught the eye of pantheon lady Idun. “Lady Idun, I would like you to attend as a representative of the pantheons. I will invite some others of your peers, but without your presence and confirmation of recent events, I doubt our words will be given much credence.”

Idun brushed back her hair. “I understand. As lady Senalloy said, the powers of the realms must all join in this. I will commit to getting as much support as possible from the pantheons.”

“My gratitude,” Koass said. “Well, that’s it. Let’s go home.”

Return to Contents

Chapter Thirty-Nine

I was just glad for a reprieve. Never for
a moment did I think the nightmare was
over…
—Kalindinai T’Evagduran,
Queen of Malan

The return to Kul’Amaron was more than a little surreal to Bannor. They were returning home to their own living space and their own bed. The Felspars and Kergathas had become so accustomed to living in the citadel that they probably considered it as much their home as any other place they lived. Tarkath Chauser, who had provided them their ride back, walked arm and arm with Kel’Varan Damay. Though the elder lady made a show of acting aloof, it was easy to tell she doted on the attention. The Queen, Cassandra, Euriel, Dorian and Desiray were in good spirits, smiling and relaxed for the first time in a long while. As they chatted and talked about things other than the next skirmish, the bond that had formed between them showed in the familiar way they spoke. They were all strong women with powerful passion and a deep love for their families. He felt Sarai squeeze his hand and he looked down.

“Bath,” she said.

He looked down at his burned clothing and soot blackened skin. He nodded. “Bath.”

“Sarai?” Kalindinai said from behind them.

She turned. “Yes, Mother?”

“Breakfast,” she glanced to Cassandra and Euriel. “Your quarters? Chauser informs me the main dining hall will need cleaning up before it is suitable for dining again.”

“I think we can accommodate, provided we get a little assistance moving things around.”

“Done!” Cassandra said. “That’s what children are for.” She winked and smiled.

“Really?” Ziedra said, floating up behind them. “I thought they were for grand-children.”

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. “Grandchildren are an obligation quite separate from chores.”

“I see,” Ziedra said with a shake of her head. “Just the same, I’ll help move furniture around to get some of the fine dining provided by Sarai’s cooks. Last time was very good.”

Sarai rubbed the back of her neck. “We’ll have to fetch them in from town.”

“Arminwen,” Senalloy said. “Let’s wait on calling back the servants until I’ve had a chance to make sure Malbraion hall is safe. It’s well away from the main citadel, but there’s a chance it might have been compromised.”

“She makes a good point,” Loric said. “Much as I would simply like to fall down in a bed, we need to make a sweep of the citadel to make sure what areas are safe to move around in.”

“Lady Ziedra,” Kalindinai asked. “Can you accompany Janai and Daena to their quarters?”

“I’d be happy too,” Ziedra said with a nod.

“I will assist my young ones,” Idun said.

“I can’t remove those wards, Kal,” Cassandra said. “I can find them for you though.” She tapped her temple next to her shining black eyes.

“Leave us move on these things quickly,” King Jhaan said. “I know I am not the only one longing for the embrace of bed linens.”

The groups split up, the Felspars and Kergathas accompanying the King, Queen, and Ryelle into the back halls of Kul’Amaron. Gaea, after a short consultation with Wren, beckoned Ziedra, Radian, and Damay. Chauser tagged along with Damay and the ten person group made their way toward the outside and Green Run.

They stepped out of the citadel proper into the muted daylight. Clouds hung in thick sheaths overhead, like rumpled gray blankets strewn across the arc of the sky. Golden shafts of sunlight stabbed down into the surrounding forest through holes in the heavy overcast. The group of them stopped at the top of the causeway leading into Green Run and turned their faces into a breeze heavy with the scent of impending rain.

“Ah,” Gaea said. “The outside. I finally get to see and experience it.” She sighed and took a deep breath.

“Though I have been back in the flesh some summers,” Damay said, brushing back her hair. “The novelty has yet to wear off.”

The Kriar tarkath, Chauser, squinted up at sky, gold skin glinting in the glow from the clouds. <It is not my world,> he said. <Still, it is beautiful none-the-less. I understand the desire to protect it.> He glanced over to Damay. The elder ascendant smiled at him.

They turned and headed down into the arched corridors, footsteps echoing on the stone. To Bannor’s ears, it seemed loud in the stillness.

“I trust there’s space,” Gaea said in a wistful tone, smiling. “I favor Wren so much I think she needs some time away from me once in a while.”

“We don’t mind having you for company, Mother,” Janai said, her voice echoing.

“It will be nice to just spend a little time and do nothing,” Daena said with sigh.

“Don’t count on that,” Sarai said with a shake of her head. “We have thousands of things to do. Mother isn’t going to let us rest all that long.”

“Great,” Daena said with a roll of her eyes.

Janai rubbed Daena’s shoulder. “It won’t be so bad.”

In Green Run’s central courtyard, Bannor, Sarai, and Senalloy took their leave from Janai, Daena, and the others. Inside Malbraion hall, the stillness seemed eerie. The three of them made a circuit of all the chambers while Bannor and Senalloy searched for magic. After a half bell of searching they determined it to be safe.

Sarai picked a sizeable suite that wasn’t in use and offered it to Senalloy. The Baronian lady accepted with a smile, promising to take a long bath and meet them later for dinner. Sarai promised they would do the same.

The three of them had a quiet dinner of basic staples pulled from Sarai’s pantry. They sat at a small breakfast table situated on the balcony overlooking the river. The sun was just setting, casting a tangerine glow in the darkening sky. The first few stars had just started to show in the east.

Little was said, and in truth, little needed to be said. They had come to know one another so well in such a short time. It was testimony to the elder lady’s straightforward charms that she had earned Sarai’s respect, her trust, and thereafter her friendship. In some ways, she seemed more at ease with the silver haired Baronian than she did members of her own family.

Senalloy swirled the wine in her goblet and stared up at the far away stars. Her violet eyes had a far off look.

It was Sarai that reached across the small table and touched the big woman’s hand. Senalloy’s gaze came down and met Sarai’s. She made a little smile, acknowledging the gesture and putting her hand on top of Sarai’s.

She drew a breath, her face turning serious. Her tone dropped. “Sar.”

His wife-to-be straightened up, violet eyes widening. “Sen?”

“I won’t let them hurt Vhina,” she said in a dark tone. “Kell, our blood, yours and—mine—” There was the barest flick of her gaze at him, before she continued. “He sacrificed his reality to make sure she stayed free. We, you and I, have to do the rest.”

Sarai’s eyes narrowed, showing she took Senalloy’s words seriously. “Sen, what can we do? Even in ten summers she’ll just be a baby…”

The Baronian leaned forward and patted Sarai’s arm. “Trust her blood. This girl…” She shook her head. “I just have a feeling.”

“Well, we already know she’s one tough little scrapper,” Bannor said, reaching out and giving Sarai’s arm a squeeze.

“Sen, I will not let my daughter become a monster,” Sarai responded with a flat tone.

The silver-haired lady brushed back her hair and fixed Sarai with a stare. “Can any creature that fights to protect freedom be considered a monster?”

***

As he and Sarai napped after dinner, the sound of the Baronian lady’s voice played in the back of his head, making his skin prickle. Though Sarai had not directly responded to the statement, he could tell it bothered her. Senalloy asked hard questions. No mother willingly risks her child even for the grandest of goals. It was another ludicrous thought like many others they had entertained in recent times. How could their child represent a force able to thwart the Chyrith invasion? What was Senalloy basing that on? If anyone could smash back their enemies, Wren and that crazy sword Mon’istiaga seemed the likely candidates.

They awoke a little before seven bells. Sarai decided to go into the city to fetch the staff of Malbraion hall. Dressing in a simple green shift and tying back her hair in a tail, Sarai reviewed herself in the mirror for barely a heartbeat before pulling on his arm. For himself, he had pulled on a pair a black breeches and white tunic. He, like Sarai, wore his shaladen clamped on his wrist like a large gold band.

Retracing their steps through the entry hall, Bannor flinched when a figure stepped out of the shadows into their path.

Sarai sucked a breath in surprise as the silhouette loomed over them. After a single step, the bright silver hair gave away who it was. Dressed in the dark gray of Malanian Nightslash Elite Senalloy was almost invisible in the dark.

His wife-to-be put a hand to her chest and sighed.

“Sen,” Sarai protested. “It’s just a walk into town. I’m a Shael Dal now.”

The Baronian lady shook her head. She raised a book that she must have been reading, and laid a felt strip between the pages and closed the thick volume. She placed the tome on a table and came to stand by Sarai with folded arms.

“It’s for appearances and it will discourage trouble,” Senalloy said in a firm tone. “Besides I can handle situations without killing that you can’t. We do want to avoid killing, right?”

Sarai hung her head, defeated in one swift slash. “Yesss.”

“On another note, what were you planning to do about him?” she gestured to Bannor.

He frowned.

His wife-to-be scowled. “What about him?”

“Sar, he’s huge and scary.”

“He is not, he’s—oh…” she stopped and looked up at him. “Oh, I’ve gotten used to you being like this.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and raised an eyebrow. “Which part—huge or scary?”

“Sen is right, you will scare them. It’s too bad you can’t change your shape like Daena does.”

“Well, I can’t. So, do I have to hide until Wysteri can change me back?”

“Why can’t you?” Senalloy asked with an arch expression.

He rolled his eyes. “That’s a silly question. I can’t because I don’t know how.”

“Oh really,” Senalloy responded. “And did you know how to warp phase when you beat the stuffing out of that Chyrith?”

His brow furrowed. “Well… no.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was just mad.”

Senalloy tilted her head and folded her arms. “Huh.” She blinked violet eyes. “You get mad and suddenly you can do things you don’t know how to do. I wonder what that’s all about…???”

He winced and held up his hands. “Okay okay, the body probably does have the ability. I just haven’t tried to figure it out.”

“Here, hold out the shaladen.”

Brow furrowing, he held out his left arm that had the band of the shaladen clamped. “Xersis, allow Senalloy to touch you.”

The elder lady touched his arm. She closed her eyes and he felt a tingling go through him. “Now,” she said. “You are wizard with shaping your shaladen. Think of your body as a separate but distinct part of Xersis. Like its hilt or its blade. I’ve seen you divide the shaladen into pieces. Think of yourself as one of those parts.”

This made sense to him. Whatever she was doing made his body feel like a part of the shaladen. This was certainly an easier exercise than shaping metal into living tissue as he had done with the Kriar’s mangled arm. He fitted the image of himself over what he knew to be his body, the face and stature that he remembered from the mirror some many days ago. He pushed into the tracery of the shaladen and willed the whole to assume the configuration envisioned.

A warm tingling shot through his limbs, a bubbling sound gurgled from his flesh. A bluish glow surrounded his body as he changed. The world grayed out and became blackness as his eyes reformed, sounds dulling to a slushy ring as his ears melted and reassembled. After a few moments, he stood next to Sarai, with her almost looking straight into his eyes.

His skin felt itchy and there was still a tingling in his scalp. He rubbed a hand through his hair. It felt different. His clothes now hung loose on him like hand-me-downs from an older sibling.

“Interesting,” Senalloy said, “and very good for a first try. You hardly needed my help at all.” She reached out with a fingertip, touching his tunic and trousers, in a flash of sparks they obediently resized themselves to fit.

“Thank you,” he said. He paused for a moment. His voice sounded different. It wasn’t as deep, nor did it have that echo that he associated with entities of power.

Senalloy nodded and grinned.

“Nice,” Sarai murmured, looking up at him with a peculiar expression.

“What?”

“It’s new, but I like this you too,” she said with a smile. “Is this how you see yourself?”

“Hmmm?” He pulled at his ear. “I didn’t give it much thought.”

“He used to not like himself as much,” Senalloy determined. “Being Shael Dal—being needed and appreciated. He’s changed a bit. He’s more accepting of who he is.”

He felt his face. It felt normal. Why was she saying that? “Do I look weird?”

“You look fine,” Sarai said, taking his arm. “Let’s go. You too, miss chaperone.”

The three of them strolled through the dark halls of Green Run their footsteps loud in the stillness. In the distance, they heard laughter, from the sound Bannor guessed it was Gaea. Even relaxed and at ease, the all-mother’s voice and emotions could be sensed a hundred paces away.

“Sounds like they’re getting along,” Senalloy remarked.

Sarai nodded.

Back on the citadel grounds, Sarai aimed toward the glow of the city, taking them out through portis exemplar, Kul’Amaron’s main gate. Glowing moss-lights cast everything in hues of pale magenta. Shafts of illumination shone from the windows of taverns, inns, and residences creating pools of light where night-bugs danced and flitted. Glamour drifted down from the canopy of tree limbs in a gleaming rain of golden motes that made the skin tingle. Snatches of music and laughter wafted through the town, airy and surreal. As he looked up at the luminous interplay of color and shadow, he understood the legends of fairy rings and humans lost forever the elven glades. He himself felt drawn to the beauty and serenity.

In no particular hurry, his wife-to-be strolled down the lane beneath the high boughs with her hands behind her back. To Bannor it seemed she was immersing herself in the sights and sounds of the place that had been her home for centuries. She was obviously glad to have a town to return to, and blessed to be alive, healthy and able to enjoy it.

Bannor glanced back at Senalloy, the big Baronian lady ambled along with a smile on her face, seeming to take pleasure from what she was seeing and hearing.

He didn’t bother to ask Sarai how she planned to find the members of her staff. He assumed she’d already figured that out. He doubted she planned to search the whole city for them. He understood why she hadn’t simply used her shaladen telepathy to call them back. That would have been quite frightening especially to some of the more timid elves in her employ. He remembered the upset caused when he revealed his ability to speak Elvish.

After a quarter bell of meandering down the city’s byways, Sarai stopped in front of a large tavern. Of the establishments they had passed, the Golden Oak (translated) was, by far, the most boisterous they had walked by. Loud laughter and the sounds of inebriated carousing blared from the open windows and doorway. Of all the places, this seemed the least likely place to find his wife-to-be’s staid and reserved retainers.

Hands on hips, Sarai stared through the open doorway into the crowd.

“Sounds like a fun crowd,” Senalloy said with a grin.

“Yes,” Sarai said with a shake of her head. Taking a breath she plunged into smoke-laced air.

Dozens of elf patrons focused on them as they entered. Any trouble that might have come Sarai’s way seemed to be halted at the sight of Senalloy and symbol stitched into her gray tunic. Bannor saw half a dozen elves heading for the dark corners simply to be out of her sight.

Sarai didn’t have to force a path, patrons cleared out of her way as though she had the plague. She made her way into the back where some of the hardest drinkers were seated. Briefly, he wondered who she would find here in this den of ruffians and then he caught sight of two elder elf ladies surrounded by a coterie of young males barely a fifth their age. Both ladies were dressed in revealing black silk, assets on display in ways that he knew would be scandalous were it to be found out in court.

Bannor’s jaw dropped.

“Good evening,” Sarai said, nodding to the group at the table. “Psendra—Giliaja—you both look well.”

The men in the group turned to say something rude and shut up as they saw the giant looming over Sarai’s shoulder. They sank down in their seats.

Psendra, Sarai’s house mistress, cheeks rosy with the effects of strong drink, clattered back in her chair, almost sprawling in tavern floor. She managed to make a shaky rise to her feet, leaning heavily on the table for balance. “M-m-mistress!”

Sarai folded her arms and glanced at Giliaja, the house supply matron. The blue-haired elf lady swallowed, obviously even further into her cups than Psendra. Apparently, she had sense enough to know trying to stand up would just spill her into the floor. “Giliaja?”

Giliaja bowed her head. “Raija… it—it’s a s-s-surprise to see you!”

“Oh, of that, I have no doubt,” Sarai said in elvish with a grin. “You two seem to have been enjoying your time off.”

Psendra swallowed, brushing nervously at her pale hair as it fell across her face. “Mistress you are looking—well.”

“Thank you, Psenny,” she answered. “I feel excellent. Might I ask you two a favor?”

The house mistress nodded vigorously. “U-u-hhh, yes, of course!”

“I need the staff in the hall by tomorrow morning. Mother and Father want us to make breakfast for them, the Felspars and the Kergathas.”

“Certainly, Mistress,” Psendra assured.

Sarai leaned back, eying the inebriated elven woman. “Are you certain? You seem a bit—unsteady. I can contact the others myself if need be.”

The lady’s amber eyes widened. “Please, Mistress, d-don’t trouble yourself! W-we’ll manage. What time?”

“Eight bells,” Sarai replied. “Some of our friends will be along earlier to assist in some of the heavy lifting.”

Psendra didn’t demur, she simply bowed her head.

Sarai leaned forward. “Psendra?”

The matronly elf looked up, blinking in the smoky light. “Yes, Mistress?”

The princess gave her an arch expression. “Nice dress.”

The older elf gripped her chest as though she’d been shot and flushed scarlet.

She nodded to Giliaja. “Be well.”

The other lady dipped her head.

Sarai turned and headed out. Bannor saw her rocking back and forth and holding her sides like something hurt. When they were outside she let out a laugh that had tears coming from her eyes.

Bannor didn’t know the joke, but he could guess. After only a few score-days of being around the two house matrons even he had picked up on their prudish reputation and their open criticism of the slightest impropriety.

Sarai was shaking her head and grinning. “After a century, I finally catch those two!”

Senalloy stood in the street with arms folded watching Sarai with a smile. She raised an eyebrow. “Should you be getting so much enjoyment out of their embarrassment?”

The princess gripped his shoulder, still chortling. “Sen, you have no idea. Oh my, the number of times they… Oh, it’s just priceless. Just the number of times I was scolded for dressing like a ‘tart’ and drinking.”

He smiled, knowing his wife-to-be’s fondness for authority. “Well, princesses shouldn’t do those things.”

“Right,” she said with a nod, but still smiling. “Still, it’s the way those two postured and preached as though they were saints. I always suspected, but could never catch them. That’s what makes it particularly sweet.”

Senalloy looked over her shoulder into the tavern. “Do you suppose they can round everyone up in their condition?”

Sarai shrugged. She put an arm around Bannor’s waist and rubbed against him. “They have all their little boy-toys to help them. I know they’d rather kill themselves than disappoint me after being caught like that. I’d reveal their little secret.”

He frowned. “Would you do that?”

She looked at him one eye closed. “In a heartbeat, my One. I can’t even count the number of times they embarrassed me, and had mother dress me down for ‘my-own-good’. Aie.” She rolled her eyes. “For decades…” Sarai turned and looked back toward the citadel and sighed. “Well, I guess we’re done here.” She tugged on Bannor’s hand and headed back the way they had come. She sighed and looked up. “Too bad it’s not a nicer night.”

“Star, the night is always nice when I’m with you.”

She rolled her eyes. “A too-obvious attempt to win favor.” She pulled his hand to her mouth and kissed his knuckles. “The gesture is appreciated though…”

The three of them took a meandering course back toward the citadel. Sarai was obviously in no hurry to return to Malbraion. With a nap and the prospect days to come that didn’t immediately involve fighting for his life, Bannor was pleased simply to stroll through the trees and soak up the serenity. Senalloy said that it would be at least five or ten summers before they were haunted by the violence of the Baronians and their masters the Chyrith. A lot of good things could happen in that time and he planned to enjoy every moment he could building a life with Sarai. Compared to the war, even the never-ending pedantic minutiae of the wedding would be pleasurable.

Senalloy seemed to be enjoying herself as well. The enigmatic Baronian lady sauntered along, hands behind her back, a dreamy self-absorbed expression on her face. He wasn’t fooled for an instant by that distracted look, despite her apparent relaxation, she could flash into readiness in the blink of an eye. It seemed so strange that such a powerful creature would take such a subservient role, reduced to following youngsters around. He guessed that, in a way, it was little different than the personal stewards who enjoyed caring after children. When they first met Eclipse, Senalloy and the Kriar tarkath had likened their roles as guardians to ‘being on holiday’. With the war seemingly at his back, he certainly understood how the conflicts that might bother Bronawyn or Sarai would seem trivial indeed compared to the battering stress of a life-and-death struggle.

Regardless of the circumstances, after everything they’d been through, he trusted Senalloy. When she said she would protect their child, she had meant it. He found the adamant way she had spoken to be both reassuring and disconcerting. The intent was clear, she would protect the child even from them if she felt it justified. He couldn’t imagine anything that might cause that to happen, but in the course of time, anything, it seemed, was possible. He sure hoped nothing like that ever came to pass.

“How do you think I would look with a tail?” Sarai asked.

He jerked and looked over. “Huh? What?”

She gave his shoulder a playful slap. “Just seeing if you were paying attention.”

He leaned back and looked at her through one eye. “The tail you have is just fine.”

She rubbed her posterior as they walked. “Carellion, those mecha and their designs… I swear I need to be seated twice now!”

They pushed around a hedgerow and turned onto another lane.

“Star, they have a fine eye for what looks nice,” he told her. “You should have more faith.”

“Hmph. You and your udder rubbish.” She ran a hand down the center of her blouse. She sighed and glanced toward Senalloy who was rocking along without comment.

The silver-haired lady raised an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me. Slim Baronian women are considered ugly. A female who can’t pop out twins between battles and nurse a whole litter is discarded as useless.”

Sarai frowned. “That’s cruel.”

The lady sighed. “Indeed. It’s why I’m here so thoroughly enjoying myself. I don’t have to deal with that dren.”

“Well, I’m happy to have you. You’ve been a good friend to us.”

Senalloy made a little bow at the waist. “It’s nice to think I’ll have a place to be welcome and call home.”

Sarai dropped back a bit and looked up at the big woman. “Aren’t you going to be lonely?”

“Lonely?” The big woman tilted her head and glanced at Bannor. “Are you offering to share?”

He felt his face redden.

His wife-to-be frowned. “No. You know what I mean.”

“Sar,” Senalloy said. “Honestly, I’ll be okay. I’m not going to get bored or pine away overnight. Even though the whole family turned Shael Dal, I am certain there will be plenty to keep me entertained.”

Sarai eyed her. “Entertained?”

“Arminwen, sometimes you are too close to see the humor in things. Watching you and Bannor be parents…” She glanced at Bannor again. “I’m looking forward to that. It’s going to be interesting…”

“Caring for child is not that difficult…” Sarai started.

“Caring for a normal child might not be…” Senalloy said with a grin. “Vhina… she’s going to have special needs, and I strongly suspect she’s going to be exactly like her mother and grandmother.”

“Hey,” Sarai growled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Senalloy studied the skies with speculative expression. “Very interesting…”

“Oh, and I suppose you’re some sort of expert on raising children too?”

The silver-haired woman shrugged. She pushed out her lower lip. “Not really. Baronians don’t have childhoods. We’re born, we fight. The rest is training and survival.”

Sarai shook her head. “That is so grim. How are you not some kind of soulless machine like the others?”

Senalloy shrugged. “I was different,” she answered. “And they hate non-conformity. I was strong though, too strong to discard… My sister is the same way. Anyways, we battled to have our own selves. It took millennia but we eventually became something separate from our kind.”

Bannor felt a hitch in his chest. It was just another of many reminders of what a rare creature Senalloy was. To have experienced such a harsh life yet still be creature with warmth and feelings. He wasn’t even sure how that was possible. The short traumatic experience of the war that shaped most of his life was barely a footnote compared to the nightmare that Senalloy considered child-hood.

One thing was certain, he would make sure his daughter remained happy and safe. Senalloy spoke true though, with a potential war looming in the future they would have to balance love with discipline. What would little Vhina be like? He looked into Sarai’s violet eyes.

He glanced over to Senalloy. The silver-haired elder was watching him. The Baronian lady was right.

Vhina would be a handful.

That was in the future. For now, they had to put their lives back together and get things back on track. He knew what would be priority one after cleaning up the citadel.

The wedding.

He sighed.

Sarai looked up at him. “Why the sigh?”

“Declarations, dances, pipes, courtesies, forks, spoons, heraldry… urgh…” He raked his fingers through his hair.

She raised an eyebrow. “And, I thought you had it all memorized.”

“Well, yeah… but in front of a million people…”

She rolled her eyes. “Hardly a million…”

“Okay, it will just seem like that.”

“He’s cute,” Senalloy said with a shake of her head. “Without batting an eye he jumps on an enemy that can kill with a whim, and he’s afraid of a little performance in front of an audience.”

He stopped and leaned against a tree. “I’ve just never been very good at that sort of thing.”

Senalloy smirked. “They say imagining the audience naked helps.”

He sighed. “Now, that would be awkward…” He put his arms around Sarai. “I don’t want to disappoint your family.”

She thumped his chest. “My One, I don’t think that’s even possible. You’ll be fine. I do recommend rehearsing, especially the twelve courtesies. Even knowing elvish now like you do, they can mess you up. I need to rehearse myself, and we have to get our timing down. So, we’ll do it like we’ve done everything—together!” She gave him a squeeze.

Bannor gazed in her eyes and smiled. Together. Together was a good word.

“Friend Bannor?” A deep male voice said from behind them. “By Ukko’s flame is that you?”

The three of them turned to see burly Laramis, dressed in a green surcoat and with mirror polished brass buttons, come striding down the path, the rain of glamour making halos around him. Giant Irodee stepped out of the shadows behind him. Gone was the appearance of a myrmigyne warrior, her long black hair was festooned with glittering jewels, the curves of the lady’s long body accented by a violet silk evening wrap. Hair in braids and looking very mature in some tailored gold court robes, their daughter, spindly Marta, hung on her mother’s arm.

“Hey, Laramis!” Bannor enthused, going forward to clap the justicar on the shoulder. “Good to see you.” He looked up at the paladin’s wife. “Lady Irodee, you look amazing!” He leaned over a bit to meet their daughter’s eyes. “And Marta,” he paused. “Or should I say, lady Marta, is looking very proper and attractive.”

Grinning, the young girl flushed and hugged her mother’s arm as she looked up at him.

“Good evening, Sir Laramis,” Sarai said, stepping up with Senalloy behind her. “Hello Irodee, Bannor is right, you are looking lovely tonight.”

The myrmigyne lady colored and nodded.

Laramis bowed. “Arminwen Sarai, well met, I must say that you are looking quite exquisite yourself.” He turned to Senalloy. “We were only briefly introduced, Lady Senalloy was it not? My greetings to you as well.”

The silver-haired Baronian nodded.

“So, what happened to you after the mess at the party?” Bannor asked. “You disappeared.”

The lines of the man’s broad face pulled down. “I took some mighty hits in that fight my friend, as did my dearest one.” He leaned back and pulled Irodee close. He sighed. “Those foes were beyond my ken. It broke my heart, but I had to acknowledge I could not both fight at your shoulder and protect my precious ones.” He leaned around to smile at his daughter. He focused his gaze back on them. “I apologize for not confessing this personally. Things grew a bit hectic after that fell vixen took away Lady Liandra and Azir. I understand you had a hand in their recovery. How are things? Matradomma has spared me little beyond the essentials since the citadel was cleared to prevent the spread of a ‘plague’.”

“We finally defeated the people behind the attacks. Everyone is fine, though you might not recognize some of us anymore…”

“A fine bravo is in order then,” Laramis said with a nod. “By recognizing, are you referring to the change in your appearance? I must confess I wasn’t sure it was you, but Jewel insisted it was.” He rubbed Irodee’s arm, she looked down and smiled at him. “Arminwen, your semblance is different as well, though more like I remember you from before Hecate’s war.”

Sarai grinned. “It’s hard to be a princess when I don’t look like the princess.”

The justicar grinned. “Indeed.”

“So, it’s been a while, what have you been doing?”

“Oh, have no doubt we’ve been keeping busy. Matradomma has run us ragged with all beastly manner of court affairs—keeping the kingdom on a steady keel as it were.” He shook his head. “I must say it has been hard on my conscience. To be able to hear the fell goings-on in the citadel and having the stature of my contributions reduced to a mere shuffling of documents and court oration.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Quite frustrating actually.”

“Laramis, you contributed a lot,” Sarai assured him. “Just knowing you could be trusted with those errands gave Mother and Father great peace of mind.”

“Aye,” Laramis assented with a grudging expression. “Thinking of ‘mind’ milady. How is it your dam became a mistress of telepathy so suddenly? I dare it near to shook me loose from my teeth the first time!” He rubbed a finger in his ear as though in memory.

“That would be part of those changes Bannor mentioned,” Sarai responded, touching the band on her arm. “There’s quite a lot to tell. Would you like to come back to Green Run with us and catch up?”

“Bravo that milady,” Laramis said with a firm nod. He looked up at Irodee. “You agree, Jewel?”

“Of course,” she answered. “Will Wren be around?”

“Perhaps,” Sarai said. “For certain she’ll be at the get together we’re hosting for everyone in the morning. We were just fetching the staff to get that prepared. You are invited of course.”

“We accept,” Laramis said with a grin. “If there’s anything we can do to help, lead us to it—it’s a grand thing to know things will be getting back to normal.”

Normal.

Bannor sensed that in the days ahead the meaning of ‘normal’ would be turned on its ear. Still it was good just to be able to focus on little things—stories, camaraderie, and preparing for a social gathering rather than a battle…

***

The rest of the evening was spent simply slowing down and telling the tale of what had been happening over the last moon. Janai, Daena, and their guests joined them early on and a reverent Laramis and his wide-eyed wife and child were introduced to the mother-of-all. The rest of the evening, the two princesses, their ones, and all the guests sat around Sarai’s couch circle sipping at wine and fruit nectar and munching on the confections that had been secreted in various corners of the kitchen. Before late it became an evening of reminiscing as the elders regaled the youngsters with both amusing and harrowing tales. Damay shared some ribald tales of her exploits of running around with Loric when she was young. Though seemingly staid and impervious, tarkath Chauser was persuaded into sharing what was a decidedly different side of the Kriar and the kinds of elaborate pranks that great elders think up to alleviate boredom. Senalloy, showed that even the grim lives of the Baronians experienced humorous episodes from time to time as she described the various antics the commanders engaged in trying to one-up each other without bloodshed.

It was long after midnight when their gathering broke up. Irodee had bells ago tucked her daughter away in one of Sarai’s unused suites. Damay made it apparent that the robust bodies of the ascendants were not immune to the effects of strong drink. The woman had taken a great liking for the amazingly potent lotus nectar that Sarai had dug out of an old cabinet. She and mother Gaea had been hitting from the bottle heavily and the two of them were tittering like a pair of journey-maids. Janai and Daena steadied the more-than-jolly all-mother as she teetered toward the door humming some ancient tune. Damay, ever dignified, chose to hang on to Chauser’s arm for support, something that didn’t seem to bother the Kriar warrior at all. Irodee and Laramis accepted Sarai’s offer to stay over, bid them goodnight and retired to the room where their daughter was already asleep.

Bannor put his arm around Sarai as they headed toward their own room. “That was nice,” he murmured. “Really really nice.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Oh yes. No pain, no cuts, no bruises… and a real bed,” she sighed. “I sooo look forward to getting used to this…”

“You will,” he said with a smile. “You will.” He scooped her up in his arms and kissed her. “Come to bed, Momma!”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. “Take me to bed, Papa!”

***

Even after the late night, Bannor rolled out of bed in the early hours. He pulled on a pair of breeches and went to the balcony doors. Rubbing his chest he slipped out onto the railed platform, feeling the bite of the cool morning air on his skin. He took a deep breath of the damp stillness of pre-dawn and let himself simply be at peace. Gazing at the pale sliver of the sun casting shafts of tangerine light into the deep azure of the eastern horizon he had to wonder at the good fortune that allowed him to be here taking in the sight. He listened to gurgle of the river, and the chirp of marsh bugs gathered in the reeds along the watercourse. Deeper in the house, he heard the click and clack of Sarai’s house staff already hard at work preparing for the gathering.

He would be fool to think that there would be too many days with nothing more to look forward to than spending time with comrades. He took solace that no matter whether it was fun, toil, or battle he would be surrounded by friends and family.

“Bannor?” came a muddled female murmur from behind him.

He turned to see his wife to be, still in sleeping silks, hair tousled and rubbing her eyes step out onto balcony.

“Morning.”

“Mmmf,” she mumbled, shuffling over to put her arms around him. “What are you doing?”

He put his arm around her. “Being peaceful.”

She rubbed her cheek against his arm. “You can do that in bed you know.”

He rubbed her back and grinned. “A different kind of peaceful.”

“Hmpf.” She murmured looking toward the sunrise. She leaned closer. “Been a while since I watched a sunrise. The colors are kind of pretty…”

“Twice as pretty with you here,” he offered.

She sighed. “Do you really think saying such trite stuff works on me?”

He grinned. “Absolutely.”

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t demur as she snuggled closer and watched with him as the light in the east grew in brightness and the interplay of colors shifted and changed.

They stayed that way for a time, then Sarai drew him inside to take a bath and prepare for the day. Refreshed and dressed they moved into the main halls where the staff of Malbraion Hall were swarming around like a nest of digger bugs, cleaning and preparing.

Psendra and Giliaja, dark circles under their eyes but energetic, directed and organized as the hall was rearranged to accommodate a much larger than normal gathering. Arms folded, Sarai watched the two for a short time. It was obvious the two had slept little and were suffering binge pains.

The two older elves didn’t say anything to her and made active efforts to avoid her gaze. Sarai didn’t twist the knife, she let them be and set about assisting. Bannor stepped in to help a few of the male staff who were struggling to move some of the pieces of heavy ironwood furniture. The elven men gaped as Bannor leaned a hip in for balance and levered up the twenty-stone mass by himself and trundled it over to where they wanted it.

He rolled his shoulders trying to disguise the fact that he probably could have moved something double or triple that weight with little effort. He didn’t want Sarai’s people anymore leery of him than they already were.

Still dressed in a morning robe, Senalloy came out, gave them a brief greeting and disappeared into the kitchen. Bannor caught a few snippets of the elder lady’s oddly accented elvish as she negotiated with the cooking staff. A few moments later she exited with a large carafe and small basket of items that she carried out onto the terrace.

Sitting at the small stone table she nodded to them and began pulling out decanters, arranging them, and working with materials poured from small containers.

Sarai frowned at what the Baronian lady was doing until she saw her pour something dark from a red flask.

His wife to be smiled and followed the silver-haired lady. Curious, Bannor went after her.

“Quetzal laced dark root?” Sarai said with a skeptical tone. “How do you know about that?”

Grinning, Senalloy leaned back with the steaming mug in her hands. She brushed back her shiny silver hair causing it to gleam and glitter in the rosy morning light. “Sar, one thing I learned is that elves have absolutely marvelous vices.” She sipped again and sighed. “Ryelle introduced me to this one.”

“Ryelle spikes her dark root?” Sarai said with a frown. “No way.”

Senalloy shrugged. “Join me?”

Sarai looked back into the house. “We’re supposed to be helping.”

“You are? I thought princesses were supposed to stay out of the way. Ziedra and the others will be along to help soon. Pitch in then.”

Apparently, that was all the persuading Sarai needed as she scooted a chair up and poured herself some of the concoction, stirring in sweet crystal, and milk.

Bannor let himself be coaxed into trying some of the strong smelling concoction. He had never been much for dark root, but he had to admit the strong bite of quetzal blended with the sweet milk made it more palatable. The two together sure did wake a body up.

They lounged and chatted, until Daena, Ziedra, Damay, and Wren showed up to help with the last of the preparations. With four ascendants working together it was trivial matter to shift the hundred stone banquet table and carry in the extensions and other paraphernalia.

Laramis, Irodee and their daughter came out and were introduced to the new Wren. Irodee who was still bigger than Wren even in this larger incarnation studied her with a strange expression for long moments before giving her a hug. What exactly was going through the myrmigyne’s mind at that moment he couldn’t guess. He knew that Wren’s female friends were rather ardent in their admiration of the blonde savant.

After the work was done, the couples gathered together in Sarai’s conference circle and were served some morning refreshment. Ziedra was joined by her husband, Janai and Chauser joined Daena and Damay.

“So, lady Wren,” Laramis asked with his head tilted. “Is this a permanent change?”

Wren lowered her gaze, glowing blue eyes hooded. “I—I haven’t decided,” she said rubbing the back of her neck. “A big part of me says I should go back to a mortal body. Gaea says I should embrace my birthright.”

The justicar leaned back on the couch, sipping his dark root. He glanced at his wife Irodee who was cuddling their daughter and studying Wren with big dark eyes.

“I’ve already decided,” Ziedra said, fingering her now almost frost-white hair. She turned glowing magenta eyes on her golden husband who looked up at her with a smile. “Not only am I staying an ascendant, I am going to get an upgrade so my hair won’t constantly be getting bleached out.”

“I still think it’s too tempting and too dangerous,” Wren mumbled.

“And you know what?” Ziedra said with an arch expression. “I thought about it, and took what you said seriously. I talked it over with father Loric and momma Cassandra and I’m going to create limiters that will restrain my powers unless I’m in danger. I figured I could put a few people in charge of being able to turn the bindings off and on if there’s some non-dangerous need.” She shrugged. “Gaea would always be able to do it, of course.”

“You’d do that?” Wren said incredulously.

Ziedra tilted her head. “You jest. I don’t need to be able to turn mountains to rubble unless I have some wretched monster hitting me in the head. Koass said it’s mandatory that I become a Shael Dal if I remain an ascendant. They were going to be watching me anyway. I might as well devise my own moderation rather than have one stuck on me. I don’t want any accidents. My desire for a body like this is entirely vanity—I’m not afraid to admit that, but I’m not so selfish as to put anyone at risk for my indulgence.”

“That is exceedingly thoughtful,” Damay remarked, fingering one of her rings. The elder savant of forces pursed her lips. “I must admit the—feeling—of this flesh is a temptation in and of itself.”

“Does that mean you’re staying an ascendant?” Daena asked.

“I believe the needs of our future require that I not only remain an ascendant, but master all of Gaea’s gifts as well. I was not born with Wren’s natural talent with the Kel’varan Nola, so therefore I must train. No offense to Marna’s work,” she looked down at herself. “But I think I should like a body better suited to channeling magic. I plan to consult with Loric and Gaea on the matter.”

“What about you, Bannor?” Wren said, eying him. “I notice you managed to scale down, even though Gaea said you wouldn’t be able to get Kriar form shifts for a while.”

“I did my own shape shift,” he answered. “With Sen’s help,” he nodded to the silver-haired Baronian lady. The woman smiled and nodded back.

“Zounds, Man,” Laramis said. “So this is not your true appearance?”

Bannor sighed. “To be honest, I don’t have a true appearance anymore. That Baronian coven destroyed my birth body. So…” He shook his head. “No shape I take will ever be ‘true’ again. Only forms that look more or less like I was a few seasons ago.”

Irodee tilted her head. “I like how you look now. When Wren and I first met you—you had this wild animal look going on.”

“When we first met, you talked like an ignorant barbarian,” Sarai said, staring at Irodee.

The big woman grinned and brushed at her shiny black hair. “Now, if I had talked like a Malanian academy graduate you would never have said the things around me that you did. Is it my fault that people assume tall folk have little brains?”

“It is fiendishly deceptive, my Dear,” Laramis chided. “And somewhat confusing at times. I know you were trying not to let me catch you speaking in that monosyllabic polyglot.”

“You folk have never lived among the clans,” Irodee told them. “It was bad enough my sisters already treated me like I had a third arm growing out of my head.”

Little Marta laughed and hugged her mother.

Irodee shook her head. “My chi-cheena Ess, sent me to school to get me away from all the clan pressure. It really didn’t make it better though because then all the sisters figured I would think myself better than them. I had to talk and act dumb to even get along.”

“It sure worked on us,” Ziedra said, shaking her head. “I felt like an idiot. So, Bannor, can you translate for us. Does that mean you’re staying an ascendant?”

“I confess my mind is much like Wren’s. I neither want nor need the power of an ascendant. My abilities as a savant were dangerous enough.”

“He’s not jesting there,” Wren chimed in. “Did you notice though Bannor, that the whole time you have had the power of an ascendant, you never once misfired your nola. Not even one time.”

“I—” He stopped, and glanced at Sarai. “Wait…” He scratched his head, brow furrowing. “You’re right. The only time it did something unpredictable was when I deliberately let it loose. Huh.”

“Well, since it is well within our power now,” Sarai said. “He is going to at least live long enough to see his half-elf daughter’s puberty!”

“And how long is that, when Vhina is half immortal and half elf?” Daena asked.

Sarai shrugged. “Frankly, I don’t care. He’s not allowed to turn gray until she’s out of toddler’s braids.”

He frowned at Sarai and she met his gaze with a serious expression.

“Whoa,” Daena breathed. “That could be like—” She grinned. “Forever.”

“Hardly, forever,” Janai said. “Three or four decades though.”

“Decades?” Bannor repeated. He scrubbed his forehead. He hated it when elves threw around spans of time like that. He wasn’t yet three decades old now. He would be sixty or even seventy before his daughter got her first maiden’s blood? He shook his head. He heard about some fathers not wanting their daughters to grow up, but this… He still hadn’t wrapped his mind around it.

“If you can age gracefully, I would advise doing so,” Damay said. “After fifty seasons, the winters just get harder and harder. Trust me. A life of rough and tumble approaching sixty—every little bump and jostle hurts. Wounds never seem to heal, and you always seem to be catching your breath… I suppose it builds character… but I can think of better ways…” Her voice trailed off.

Bannor noticed that Wren was staring at Damay.

Anything the blonde ascendant planned to say was interrupted by the entrance of Gaea and the other members of the Kergatha family.

The green mother came dressed in layers of purple, with highlights of shear black silk sequined with jewels. Golden thread beaded with red stones had been woven through her long dark tresses, causing fiery sparkles to dance in the glossy strands as she moved.

Idun and Euriel both came dressed in ceremonial furs, blouses and kilts festooned with jewels and patterned with silver thread. Vanidaar and Azir were likewise dressed in the fashion of Aesir nobility, wolf-pelt ruffs and studded leather jerkins with polished rings of brass.

Greetings and pleasantries were exchanged, taking on truly relaxed tone as the allies of the Baronian war were finally starting to lose the edge from being keyed up for days on end.

Shortly after the arrival of the Kergathas, Loric and his wives Cassandra and Desiray were admitted. They brought with them their eldest daughters Cassin and Annawen, and their huge counterparts Sindra and Drucilla. Desiray’s two sons, Caldorian and Sebenreth along with their wives trailed in shortly after. A few steps behind them, a Kriar contingent consisting of Marna, Dulcere, Eladrazelle, Quasar and Eclipse entered. The Kriar matriarch was escorted by willowy Dominique, while burly Corim, looking smart in his black and silver Protectorate regalia, held Dulcere’s arm.

From the way everyone dressed it was apparent that even though this was a casual after-war gathering that everyone was choosing to put on their brightest and most shiny faces.

In a group by themselves came the three physicians, Wysteri, Mercedes, and Octavia. Along with them was the unlikely presence of Vera. Mercedes and Octavia each held one of her arms and the two were coaxing her along. Arm in arm Dorian and her husband Brin, moved at the rear of group, their positioning and the way they moved suggesting they were there to catch the little G’Yakki should she decide to bolt.

Last to enter were Jhaan, Kalindinai, and Ryelle. The T’Evagdurans while not in full royal regalia, were handsomely attired in fine silk and lace.

As large as Malbraion’s main area was with nearly fifty people the chamber seemed full. No one minded though, lounging together knee to knee and shoulder to shoulder. Though titles and rank were being acknowledged, nobody was standing on formality. Bannor felt the relaxed camaraderie, some were brothers and sisters in blood, others in allegiance, birthright, and arms. There could be no doubting that after everything they had faced, they were all family.

As the entourage awaited breakfast, many wished he and Sarai well in their upcoming marriage and expressed enthusiasm for the festivities following the nuptials.

“And what shall the newly-weds be doing for the quarter-moon after the ceremony?” Loric asked, looking at both of them.

Bannor glanced at Sarai. “Sleep?” he said in a sheepish tone.

Sarai elbowed him. “Father owns an estate down on the mirage coast in Pedon. I hear the beach sand is the color of crushed sapphire, and the fruit is the best on Titaan. I got the idea talking with Tal’s wife Terra, she said that they love to relax there in the winter. Terra said as part of our wedding gift, Tal would gate us down there.”

Mirage coast? When did they decide that? He sighed. They truly were married. The ceremony was just a commemoration of that fact.

This was apparently a well considered plan because Kalindinai was smiling and nodding, no hint of demur in her eyes or mentions of security issues. So, apparently it had already been discussed with her. Ryelle and Janai also seemed to be in on it. So, obviously, he was the only one who it hadn’t been discussed with.

“An interesting choice of location,” Corim said, leaning back in his cushions by Dulcere. “I hear the dress customs are very liberal. The cult of Meliekki is quite popular there with the ladies.”

“Meliekki?” Wren repeated.

Corim nodded.

The blonde ascendant shook her head. “No wonder Tal likes to vacation there.”

“Eh?” Bannor said frowning at her.

Radian glanced at Ziedra, whose brow was furrowed much like Wren’s. He rubbed his wife’s shoulder and leaned forward toward Bannor. A glint flashed in his dark eyes. “Bannor, lean into it—trust me.”

“Have Sarai get the milk bath,” Azir chimed in. “I hear it’s great for the—ah—skin.”

“The ritual milk baths in the temples. I’ve heard good things about that!” Sarai said pointing at him. “I’ll have to try it!”

Azir made a thumbs-up gesture and winked at Bannor. <Score, brother!> he telepathed privately.

Ziedra scowled at Azir. Glowing lavender eyes narrowed. The other ascendant noticed her attention and leaned away and brushed back his hair. He shrugged with an innocent expression.

Score? What was that about? Obviously, he was missing something and… he glanced to Radian and then to Azir. It must be something good. Something good that Sarai didn’t know about—something that irritated the women who knew about it. He pondered the possibilities… Corim did mention something about having very liberal dress customs. Somehow that tied together with the cult of Meliekki was significant. He’d have to ask in private…

Breakfast was served, the large banquet table humming with energy and mirth. The food, as always, tasted excellent. Sarai’s staff had obviously spent extra effort to create a larger than normal variety. He tried a little of each but focused on the spiced hashed tubers and meat-strips. A special blend of south-vale fruit-nectar was making people around the table roll their eyes and nod. After his first tart-sweet cup of the concoction he understood the appreciation.

Shafts radiant light were bathing the eastern balcony when King T’Evagduran called for the attention of the assemblage. He stood up and brushed his pale hair back, glowing amber eyes bright but not intense. He smiled and put a hand over Kalindinai’s knuckles as he took a moment to survey the group.

“Family, friends… allies,” he said in his deep voice. “I and the kingdom of Malan would like to officially welcome you to what I hope will be new era of strength and discovery. The last moon has been nothing less than taxing for the best of us. However, in our need, we overcame not only our enemies but opened our eyes to something far larger than the borders of this kingdom—the vaults of eternity.” He dipped his head toward Gaea. “We have gained a new mother, and new brothers and sisters of absolute trust and confidence.” He shook his head. “To the leader of a country, there can be no greater treasure than honorable associates. We give thanks for that boon. To all of you—a toast.” He raised his goblet. “To the bonds that will only grow stronger.”

Around the table, people pushed back their chairs and raised their cups and greeted the elf lord’s declaration.

After everyone had settled again in their chairs, King T’Evagduran took a few sips from his goblet and put it aside. “Now, to other matters, as all of you are painfully aware, the Baronian threat is not abated, it has simply been pushed aside for a few summers. We of Malan could choose to ignore the issue, leave it in the hands of others to play out for good or ill. In the past, this was the elven way, to observe events from afar and not get involved. Our oldest ancestors, the Silcanna, were star-travelers like the Kriar. It was only the finding of magic and kinship with the first of the great forests that changed their nomadic ways.” The King touched the arm-band of the shaladen on his arm. “I first put this shaladen on as simple necessity to protect my family and citizens.”

T’Evagduran glanced down to Kalindinai who was looking up at him and sighed. “As this conflict progressed, I started feeling the scope of eternity and what lured our forebears to explore the stars. With only a night to think on it, I find myself already decided. Malan will not sit at the wayside awaiting what comes. We will put not only our personal strength into the endeavor, but the resources of our nation. However, our current policies for providing national support to entities who are not elven or Malanian are very restrictive. Rather than fight a constant battle with the noble houses over sheltering and patronizing outsiders, I wish to bring all our families together under the banner of Malan. Better, since I more trust the counsel of those present to those of the official houses, I have decided that the three major families here will each have a seat in the cadre of the Malan high council.”

“Can you do that?” Loric said from a short ways down the table. “Won’t that make even more trouble?”

“Initially, it will,” the elf lord answered with a nod. “And, as you are aware it will not be without its irritations for your families. It is politics after all.” He rubbed his hands together. “The Felspars already have influence in Corwin, Ivaneth, and Coormeer, so having your house officially reside here will be seen as favorable move that is expedient in terms of our relations with those nations.”

“Not to be combative or anything, but what makes you think we want to move to Malan?”

“Perhaps I misheard, wasn’t your current abode made unlivable by Hecate, and your whole clan has been outdoors since?”

“We’ve been vacationing,” Loric answered in a dry tone.

“I am certain there are sites in Malan as nice as your previous location.”

“Vineyards, darling,” Cassandra said. “Think of the vineyards…”

Loric grinned. “There is that I suppose.” He focused on King T’Evagduran. “So, how does that work. We aren’t a family of elves, the houses aren’t going to accept us or our counsel.”

The King smiled. “Actually, you do have elven ties.” He gestured to Loric’s white-haired wife, Desiray.

“Grandmother?” Desiray said with an incredulous tone.

King T’Evagduran nodded. “Lady Daenaire’s house is on the fringes of the noble houses. They currently don’t have the strength to get a seat on the council but…”

“They would if house Felspar were a part of house Daenaire,” Loric filled in.

Jhann took a sip from his goblet. “Exactly. Lady Daenaire has been afraid to associate too closely with her great grand-children for fear of repercussions and further alienation of her family. We shall encourage the embracing of her extended family.”

“I find that very savvy,” Vanidaar Kergatha said. “However, there is no such bond we could utilize to validate us as having elven blood.”

King T’Evagdurn put up a hand. “Daar, now don’t be too swift. First, you and Euriel have long been a fixture here in Kul’Amaron. You are already well known. Euriel and Kalindinai are practically sisters, and truth be told, there is a great amount of jealousy in court over that fact. I thought about it, and you do have a link to the elves through Lady Idun.”

“Pardon?” Vanidaar glanced down to the goddess who raised an eyebrow and brushed back her glowing gold hair.

Lord T’Evagduran leaned forward. “Lady Idun, is not pantheon lady Freya your sister?” He looked down to the glowing goddess.

Idun shrugged. “My step sister. We share the same father, Njord.”

“Carellion is the acknowledged father of elves and Freya is matron to some of his many children. So, Idun is an aunt to the Istarnari, the heads of original five great elven houses. That makes Euriel first cousin to the lines of Dyzeln and Allanaar that currently hold the first and second seats on the council. A much higher pedigree cannot be claimed.”

“Whoa,” Wren said. “I have elf cousins? Noble elf cousins? Wild.”

“I hope Lady Idun will indulge us in making her seat here in Malan. I know she was already in the process of relocating her citadel to Titaan.”

This statement caused eyebrows up and down the table to rise.

Idun sighed, topped off her goblet and leaned back, sipping from her cup and watching the reaction.

Euriel stared at Idun. “Mother?”

Idun tilted her head. “Daughter?”

“And?” Euriel prompted.

“Child,” she narrowed glowing eyes. “I can have a house anywhere I want—I am a goddess you know.”

“The pantheon lords are not supposed to live in the human worlds,” Loric said with a frown.

“There’s no law, Vilesilencer,” Idun growled pointing a finger at him. “It was more of a consensus to avoid more irritations like the one you yourself authored. I am done with the Aesir. I am done with Odin and that troop of fools that coddle him. Hella’s words were well spoken when she said she was glad to be gone from him and the High Jury.” She rocked her head back. “My cult has few followers now.” She looked down the table to Wren and Azir. “The adoration of my grand-daughter and grand-son are enough for me. Still, I need space for my house and for my retinue which has grown over the millennia. I can’t just cast them off, so moving in with my son-in-law is obviously not an option.”

“I am curious though, Jhaan,” Vanidaar said. “How did you know about this?”

“Yes,” Euriel said, eying her mother. “I wasn’t aware of it.”

King T’Evagduran took a sip from his cup and waved toward his daughter Janai.

Janai’s eyes widened.

“My little land baroness,” he said nodding. “She has been bullying, buying, and pushing out all the land owners in northern Coormeer. It was clear she was trying to assemble a single large parcel of land. I knew the land wasn’t for her, so it was just a matter of tracing back who she’d been negotiating with to find out who the interested buyer was.”

Sarai slapped the table. “That’s why Tymoril and Kegari were in Coormeer.”

Janai rocked her head back. “Moons of work—all that gold—wasted. Argh.”

Idun raised a hand. “Do not despair yet, Child. I haven’t accepted your father’s deal. The Coormeerian land remains of great interest to me. The climate, soil, and views are all ideal.”

“Yes,” King T’Evagduran said. “I don’t think I was prepared to annex a parcel quite so large for the house of Idun.”

“Zounds, how much land is this?” Laramis rumbled with a frown. “In my country no less.”

“A mere pittance,” Idun said with a dismissing tone. “About twenty leagues on a side.”

“Leagues?” Wren squeaked.

“That’s a pittance?” Vanidaar repeated.

“The house isn’t going to fill up the whole thing is it?” Euriel wondered aloud.

“Of course not,” Idun said with a roll of her eyes. “But I need enough space around it so that my retinue doesn’t scare the neighbors. It also needs farming space and resources, and places where some of my long time servants can retire to build homes of their own.” She shrugged. “I can make my official seat Malan if that suits some shared purpose. However, I am moving to Titaan and I need no-one’s blessing.”

Loric was frowning at the goddess but didn’t say anything. Vanidaar and Euriel looked somewhat nonplussed but not upset. Bannor didn’t really understand the consternation. Where did a god sleep? The answer was obvious. Anywhere they wanted to. It sounded to him like Idun planned to keep to herself and be as isolated from mortal affairs as she could.

Bannor noticed that Marna was staring at Idun. He wasn’t quite sure how to gauge her emotion, the Kriar were so very difficult to read at times. Envy? He wasn’t sure how that tracked.

“We will discuss the details at a later date,” King T’Evagduran said. “There are other maneuverings necessary to get the appropriate status for the house of Idun, but with the contacts that we have recently made… I don’t anticipate a problem.” The elf lord took another sip from his goblet, studying the faces up and down the table. “Some few days ago, We had a memorable conversation with Lady Cassandra concerning potential harm caused by extended contact with the Kriar people.”

Bannor saw the Kriar straighten in their chairs, glances cast toward Cassandra, who shrank down in her chair somewhat.

T’Evagduran raised a hand in a soothing gesture. “The Lady spoke not to any intentional malfeasance on the part of responsible parties, but more to the indirect harm that comes as a byproduct of their abundant wealth.” He paused, his gaze going to the three mecha who sat bracketing Vera. The little G’Yakki seemed to have relaxed some since first being dragged into the gathering. She seemed to feel his attention along with the others. “Truly, I have felt the temptation that Kriar artifice magic represents. It is a subtle and powerful lure, miraculous healing, near infinite creation, and vast knowledge made available at the merest whim… it—is—staggering. Despite that, it is the Kriar themselves that wonder at the potency of their own power when compared to arcane magic. Indeed, it is arcane magic that has been the source of much woe in their past. Further, it is the magic of Chyrith that threatens us in the future. We must learn to combat that magic and we must do so quickly. While we have able mages like Gaea herself, Loric, Elsbeth, and Aarlen—it’s going to take more—much more. It is my opinion that the Kriar and their ability to research, architect, and innovate are our best hope to raise our magic to the enemy’s level.”

Loric stood up. “Jhaan, now wait…”

T’Evagduran cut him off with a slash of his hand. “Lord Felspar, let me speak my peace. I am well aware that you guard the integrity of magic. The Silcanna guarded magic every bit as well as Numinorians without erasing themselves. I know from conversations that Marna and Eladrazelle have been pursuing magic. They have been bullying and cajoling one of their own kind, Theln, who we recently learned is the patron of the Valharesh family. I propose that we teach the Kriar magic—but on our terms.” He looked down the table to Marna and the others. “No artifices, no mecha, it must be true magic—Gaea’s magic. If Marna, and any other Kriar wish to temporarily give up their artifices and study magic, then we will make that venue here. Those that accept tutelage must take an oath to never to modify, improve, or otherwise pervert the magic. Innovations must come from within the arcana itself. If at some point there is a desperate need to alter our rules, then it will be so decided by Magocratic council.” He looked to his wife. “Does that cover it?”

Kalindinai bowed her head. “It does, my One.”

Bannor looked at the five Kriar. He saw some agitation in their auras. T’Evagduran’s offer, as outrageous as it seemed—interested them. At least, he saw in Marna’s eyes that giving up her artifices was not the heartbreak he would have expected.

“Now,” Lord T’Evagduran started again. “Apart from the magic, I see great value in the counsel of the Kriar. In my own discussions with the Marna, Dulcere, Eclipse, and Chauser I have found a people that have a very close association with nature. In fact, I believe they need to get away from their metal ball and live in the sun among the trees again. If house Solaris wishes to get back to its tree-spirit roots, then the house of T’Evagduran will sponsor that return. The house of Solaris would, of course, administrate the arcane school that will be not just for Kriar but for all students. Would that be of interest?”

Hands pressed together, Marna brought her fingers to her nose and mouth. She glanced at her daughter, Dulcere and Corim sitting next to her. “Yes,” she determined. “Yes it would.”

“Good,” T’Evagduran said. “We can discuss details later.” He leaned forward. “Lady Cassandra.”

The gold-skinned lady mage straightened up in her seat. “Dom’Ista.”

“Schools—libraries—that’s you correct?”

“Yes, Sire.”

“We have some very old lore in the ghost vaults dating back to the Silcanna era that may help us in finding new venues for magic. It wouldn’t be too onerous if I put you in charge of translating and updating that material would it?”

Cassandra’s jaw dropped and her eyes grew round. “Uh.” She put a napkin to her mouth. “Uh.”

“No,” Loric said for her. “She means, ‘no trouble at all’.”

“Ah, excellent,” T’Evagduran said. “Lady Ziedra?”

The ascendant of magic looked up in surprise. “Yes, Dom’Ista?”

“While you are young, your insight and ability in magical matters is without question. When the school is established and the real preparations to fight the Chyrith are begun, we will be gathering together every safe magick we can. That task needs over-sight. I will be opening up a new position in Kul’Amaron—a vizier of magic. It will be an open posting, so any elf can apply. If you wanted that position, I imagine you would be able to out duel your competitors, yes?”

Ziedra rubbed the back of her neck. “Dom’Ista, is that fair? Magic doesn’t hurt me.”

“Child, I didn’t ask if it was fair, I asked if you could demonstrate a superior command of magic. I want the best qualified person for the position.”

“But me?” Ziedra said with a tilt of her head. “I’m not an elf.”

“You speak elven and can appear elven, yes?”

“Well, of course.”

“Would it be difficult or onerous to you to come to work as elven lady of the royal court?”

Ziedra blinked glowing eyes. “No, I suppose not—but am I…”

T’Evagduran rolled his eyes. “Let’s put it another way. You need a job don’t you? Legitimate work. Consulting on magic seems a good fit, yes?”

“Yes, Dom’Ista,” she leaned forward. “I still have so much to learn though.”

The King shook his head. “Ziedra, I acknowledge that there are others that know magic far better. However, you have telepathy and can consult with them at any time. You, I can afford to pay. Also, you and Wren are close, and can consult on the possibility of bringing magicks out of Starholme for study here.”

“What?” Wren straightened up in her chair.

“Though I am no authority on the matter, it is my observation that if there is a single place that might hold the key to our salvation, it would be Starholme, would you not agree?”

“Uh, yes, Dom’Ista.”

“I am aware of the dangers that the place poses, and any access should be closely watched and guarded. If it were me holding the keys, I would spend considerable effort toward putting in place procedures that would allow responsible parties to study the artifices and magic there.”

T’Evagduran sighed. “That’s all I have for official things, Kalindinai has one matter to address. Kal?”

With a nod to her husband, Queen Kalindinai rose to her feet. The King settled in his chair and leaned back to watch his wife.

“My business is simple,” Kalindinai said in her heavy clear voice. She brushed back her dark hair and trained amber eyes on Vera. “An acknowledgment.” She gestured toward the little woman who frowned and winced. “Though Vera-sama would rather the matter be forgotten, my feelings go to the contrary. Vera, with the help of my son-to-be, accomplished something truly phenomenal. In fact, I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that their action was no less than pivotal. Penetrating to the heart of the enemy installation and gating in our team. True, things didn’t go as planned, but without her, Bannor would not have been in the position to accomplish what he did.” The Queen paused and looked around. Bannor noticed that Vera was looking down, apparently afraid to meet anyone’s gaze. Family members murmured and nodded. Vera was almost universally adored and respected. “Now, I am aware that Vera feels her mission was not successful. That she feels shame over this perceived failure, and that troubles me. Thanks to my new shaladen ability to translate any written text, I was able to do a little research before bed last night. I found some interesting material in the Talumn’Ri Dou traditionally housed in Ghiran-nejiro.”

Vera’s head came up, her dark eyes wide. Her mouth dropped open in an uncharacteristically undignified expression.

“Don’t look so surprised, Child,” Kalindinai said in a chiding tone. “G’yaku Ghiran has had a keiyakusho with Malan dating back six millennia. I asked Master Ghiran Telos to tell me where I could find the G’yaku houritsu concerning the completion of a contract. Have you read what the Dou says?”

Vera blinked a few times. She shook her head slowly.

“Once oath-bound to the keiyakusho the life of the keiyakushain belongs to the contract owner, and that any keuyakuihan (breach of contract) is decided by me—not you. If there is a keiyakumondai, a dispute, over the completion, meaning if you think you have finished and I don’t, then that dispute is settled by your teishu. Simply put, the task is not complete unless you say you’re done and I agree, or I say you failed. If I say you’re done, and you disagree—that is neither success nor failure. Since a contract can only be ended by either of those conditions that makes you still under contract to me.” Kalindinai thrust both hands flat against the table and stared at Vera. “Understand?”

Bannor saw Loric lean over toward Cassandra and whisper something. The gold mage nodded. Apparently, this confrontation was not unexpected. He saw other members of the Felspar clan whispering to one another. There was no doubt the family wanted to see Vera’s self esteem restored. The concern of those looking on could not be any clearer.

Vera’s eyes were wide. Kalindinai was playing a logic game with the absolutes of G’Yakki law. The little woman swallowed. “Yes, Matradomma.” She paused and glanced at Wren. “But the stipulations… I cannot…”

“Ahht!” Kalindinai pointed a finger at her. “You determined you failed—not me. In fact, you’ve never even stated it to me. You just planned to slink away without accepting your completion fee. Answer now, did you complete the quest as assigned or not?”

Vera gritted her teeth. “G’yaku Vulcindra interfered—so, no.”

“Now wait. Were the requirements fulfilled?”

The little G’Yakki bowed her head. “Yes. We made it to the location and summoned Wren as contracted.”

“Where in the Dou does it say that you cannot accept outside assistance? I have read through it and find nothing stipulating that.”

“A mission is a G’yaku’s task alone, unless the conditions stipulate otherwise. Lord Starfist was specifically assigned to assist me, so that was acceptable.” She opened and closed her hands. “To require help or allow assistance is a personal failure.”

“Did you require Vulcindra’s help?”

Vera’s head snapped up. Her eyes flashed. “No.” The word came out harsh and hard.

Kalindinai blinked, surprised at the vehemence of the answer.

“So, this little impasse is because you allowed her to interfere. You are saying you failed because you couldn’t stop the actions of the one of the most powerful elders in eternity while in the middle of a battle with several veteran Kriar warriors.”

“Yes.”

Kalindinai rolled her eyes. Bannor understood her frustration. Advocate Koass himself probably couldn’t have done that. Vera was setting impossible expectations on herself. “All right,” the elf queen growled. “So be it. We’re not done. You work for me until I say you failed, or you say you succeeded.”

“Aie, but there’s nothing to do,” Vera gritted.

“Little girl, that’s your problem. We can negotiate new terms… I am more than willing to do that.”

“New terms?” Vera said in a bewildered voice.

“You need to read your Dou. In the event that we do not agree on the completion, I can redefine the terms of our contract. You can, of course, ask your teishu to intervene. Do you want to do that?”

Vera shook her head.

“Fine, report to my chambers at five bells, and we will discuss our new terms.” She turned. “Bannor?”

Startled by the mention of his name, he jerked. “Uh, Matradomma?”

“You were part of the contract and part of the performance, therefore I would like you there as well.”

He dipped his head. “Yes, Matradomma.”

“All right, I have only one other thing to mention,” Kalindinai said. “That concerns the wedding plans. Though it will put a knot in many tails, we will be revising the invitation list to include any amongst the defenders who wish to attend. Expect your invitations to arrive by the end of the tenday, please respond promptly.” She dipped her head. “Thank you.”

The special breakfast gathering continued for another half bell before guests began excusing themselves. During that time Bannor simply felt dazed. So many things were going to be different. At least, they would be good things. Their friends would now be close, so they could work together. Hopefully, there would be time to play and be normal people too.

At times he glanced up to see what Vera was doing. She was in something of a daze too, but for a very different reason. Her life was centered on her service to the Felspars, and on her previous life as a G’Yakki. He knew from having been in her mind, how much being a part of that family meant to her. At the same time, her former life remained a raw wound.

“My One?” Sarai’s voice startled him.

“Hmmm? Sorry, what did you say?”

She blinked at him with violet eyes. “You’re so quiet. Is something wrong?”

“You’re not getting scared of the wedding ceremony again are you brother-to-be?” Janai teased.

“No.” He shook his head. “I was just thinking. In fact, if you’ll excuse me for a moment.” He pushed back his chair and rose. He leaned over and kissed Sarai on the neck. “Star, be back in a moment.”

His wife-to-be met his gaze for a moment and nodded.

Bannor moved down the table. Nodding and greeting those friends that acknowledged him. Stepping between the chairs of Octavia and Mercedes he stopped at the back of Vera’s chair. The little G’Yakki was slumped in her seat, shoulders slack and head down. She looked like she’d been run over by a rhinotaur. She didn’t even seem to feel him standing behind her.

He frowned. He glanced further up the table to Wren. He saw the blonde ascendant had her glowing blue eyes trained on him. He rocked his head to indicate she should join him. Wren pushed back from her plate and rose.

Though Vera had seemed completely dead to the world, Wren’s movement seemed to activate her. She straightened and started to push back her chair. She didn’t finish the move because Bannor stood in the way of her chair.

The little woman jerked and looked up at him with wide dark eyes. “L-lord Starfist.”

“Hello, Vera,” he said with a smile.

The woman brushed the hair back from her face. He saw her gaze dart toward Wren who was coming around the far end of the table. She looked like blackhorn caught in a hunter’s lantern. “Aie, excuse—I…I…”

Bannor raised an eyebrow. He glanced at Mercedes and Octavia who were looking up at him with expectant expressions.

“You need to run away,” he responded. “So you can avoid Wren?”

Vera swallowed. “Aie.”

He reached down and held out his hand. “Vera, you’re my sister right?”

“Hai.” She glanced from his face to Wren who was in no hurry, strolling down the table side. Vera’s expression was akin to terror. She did not want to confront Wren.

He took hold of the chair and pulled her back from the table. He held out a hand. “Vera take my hand,” he said.

Bewildered, she took hold. He pulled Vera to her feet, just as Wren stepped up. Vera tried to jerk away then, but he held on. “Sis, I think the three of us need to talk.”

Wren folded her arms and glanced at Vera who looked down. “Brother, I think that’s an excellent idea.”

The sound of Wren’s voice made Vera wince.

Other people were taking notice, and Bannor saw Felspar family members looking at one another. He glanced to Loric who was focused on him. The gray-haired elder rocked his head to indicate for them to leave. Bannor nodded in acknowledgement. “Come Vera.”

“Aie,” Vera dragged her heels and leaned back. “Lord Starfist, I—”

“Vera!” Wren snapped. “Come.”

The G’Yakki froze and stared at Wren.

The blonde ascendant took her other arm. “No more nonsense. Come on, Bannor, the back balcony should be good.”

Together the two of them escorted the tiny woman toward the main balcony overlooking Green Run. When they had stepped out into the sun-light, Wren drew the cantilevered doors closed behind them. Brushing her long blonde hair back over her shoulders, Wren planted herself in front of them with her arms folded. She stared at Vera with glowing eyes like a stoic guardian spirit.

Vera leaned against the rail and tried not to meet Wren’s eyes.

Bannor let out a breath. “All right, Vera, this has got to stop.”

When the woman didn’t look up, he touched her shoulder. She shuffled back away from him not meeting his gaze.

“Vera, are you trying to hurt Wren? Is that what you intend to do?”

His words made the woman jerk but she didn’t meet his eyes.

“Do you want Wren to stop loving you?”

Vera twitched like she’d been poked with a hot iron. She didn’t look up. “Wren not love me.”

The blonde savant rocked her head back against the doors and stomped her foot on balcony so hard the structure vibrated. “I do too!” She said in an exasperated tone. “Vera, I would never stop loving you!”

Vera’s head snapped up, her eyes locking on Wren’s face. “But—”

The G’Yakki woman was interrupted as Wren came across the balcony and clasped her face in her hands. “Vera, I love you. You have always been there for me, and I will always—always—be there for you. I could not ever be disappointed in you except when you try to hide and try to keep yourself from being happy. I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to hide from me.” She let go and engulfed the smaller woman in a hug. Vera rocked her head back and trembled. After a few moments she leaned into it and clutched Wren tight.

Bannor let out a breath. He stepped over and patted Wren on the shoulder. “I think you can take it from here. I’ll give you some privacy.”

Wren nodded. Her eyes were dewy. “Thanks, Brother.”

He inclined his head, went to the balcony doors and let himself out. He rocked back, startled to see almost a dozen people hovering around the opening, including Cassandra and Desiray.

“Well?” Cassandra prompted.

He made sure the door was tight behind him. “Uh,” he cleared his throat. He glanced over his shoulder even though he couldn’t see Wren and Vera. “I think we made progress.”

“See,” Desiray said with hands on hips, blowing her white hair out of her eyes. “I told you we needed to lock those two up together.”

Cassandra snorted. “Des, you can be so inelegant at times.” She bowed to him. “Thank you, Bannor, for caring about our Vera.”

“Are you jesting?” he said. “She’s a hero and my sister—of course I look after her.”

Sarai walked up. “So, how did your diplomacy go?”

He rubbed the back of his head. “I guess we’ll know this afternoon.”

“Ah yes, Mother’s audience,” Sarai said with a nod. “Well, please pardon us,” she said to the group. “I need my One here, we have a lot to accomplish today.”

“We do?” he said perplexed.

“Yes,” she growled. “We have a moon’s worth of wasted itinerary to catch up, and we need to start—now.”

“Oh,” he groaned.

“And now that you speak fluent Elvish—you can help me.”

“Ah,” he brightened, that prospect was better. No more demeaning classes and no more sitting on display for the gentry unable to understand what was said. “Ladies,” he bowed. “Gents,” he nodded. “Good day all.”

Everyone gave their courtesies back and he let Sarai drag him off to their chambers to change.

They dressed and started into their day. Kalindinai already had what seemed to be an inexhaustible supply of errands for them to do. Much of the work precipitated by the moon-long siege of the citadel, the new guests, and making preparations for three new noble families to be in residence in the crown of Malan.

With Senalloy in tow, they made their way out into the bright late morning light. A stiff breeze rattled the tree leaves and pearly clouds rolled in slow procession across the face of the sky. The city was alive with color and buzzing with activity. News of the T’Evagduran family being out and about had already spread and passerby waved and greeted them as they walked down forest paths toward the circle of the high houses.

Bannor found the whole experience to be different from the past. He had half expected their first day back to be a painful endeavor with Sarai having to make apologies and excuses for the royal family’s score-day long ‘plague’ hiatus. He knew she hated such things and diplomacy was anything but her strong suit. However, as they went from house to house carrying messages and negotiating it went far different than he expected.

While the nobles were predictably suspicious and leery, Sarai made short work of reassuring them. The battle his wife-to-be normally experienced in negotiating with gentry was all but non-existent. At first, he attributed it to their huge silver-haired sentinel who shadowed them throughout the excursion then he realized it was Sarai herself. Males and females alike seemed to be mesmerized by her appearance and the sound of her voice. Attitudes toward him were different as well, although for that he knew the reason. The sour expressions usually directed at him changed to smiles when he returned their courtesies in proper elvish fashion.

Well past mid-day, they had worked through all of their gentry negotiations and had moved on to catering and supply errands. After taking their leave of the fifth awestruck and tongue-tied citizen Sarai stopped in the shadow of the boughs of a huge ironwood and looked at Bannor with hands on hips. “All right,” she said. “What’s going on? Why is everyone acting so weird?”

Bannor studied his wife to be. She was the same fine elven lady he had been battling along-side for seasons; tall and graceful with silvery blonde hair and glowing lavender eyes. Her silver-chased blue court robes hugged her curves nicely with a gold sash carefully arranged to hide the little bit of bulge of the baby. Still, there was a bit more, a glow that hadn’t been there before. Part of it was the shaladen on her arm that lent confidence and stolidity. Perhaps it was just the joy of not being in the middle of a war anymore. Maybe she and little Vhina were simply getting along better. Whatever elements were involved, it created a pleasant aura around her.

“I think you feeling good is rubbing off on the people around us,” he answered.

She smiled. “I do feel good. I feel great actually.”

“It helps that you smile,” Senalloy said. “I’m guessing, but I don’t think people saw you smile much before.”

Sarai’s brow furrowed. “Smile?”

He focused on Senalloy. “Sarai has always been very serious.”

Senalloy shrugged. “Power of smiles I guess.”

“You’re toying with me,” Sarai said.

“No,” he said. “She’s right. You’re more confident. You’ve been calm all morning and haven’t raised your voice once.”

“Nothing they think surprises me anymore,” she answered. “I didn’t even find it annoying.”

Senalloy chuckled. “That’s probably some of the shaladen’s influence.”

“Well, whatever it is, I like it. I’m usually ready to collapse after this many negotiations. I don’t feel tired at all.”

He put his arms around her. Conscious of the elves passing by he kissed her on the cheek. “I like it too.”

She grinned and rubbed against him. She reached into her sash and pulled out the scrap of parchment with the list of chores assigned to them. “Well, if we hurry, we can get this done before your audience with mother.”

“Lead on, my Star,” he said giving her shoulder a squeeze.

With a nod, Sarai led the way with confident and energetic steps. They charged through the remainder of the things on the list, and actually completed everything with half a bell to spare.

Back at Malbraion hall Janai and Daena were lounging in Sarai’s conference circle, drinking nectar and eating sweet cakes. The elder princess was still dressed in her gold court robes with half the ties now undone and the staff of state lying on the floor. Daena reclined next to her, half in and out of her gray ward’s habit, her auburn hair undone and spilling across the couch in a gleaming cascade.

Sarai frowned at her sister. “Don’t you two ever do any work?”

Janai waved her hand in front of her face. “I finished everything Mother gave me half a bell ago. I’ve had a marvelous day. Don’t ruin it by being a grouch.”

Sarai sighed. “Okay, peace. It went well, eh?”

“Better than I could have imagined. Even the ones I thought I would have a hard time with. I didn’t even need to use any shaladen tricks. I just had to smile and be patient.”

“She was awesome,” Daena lauded, munching down another cake.

“I experienced much the same,” Sarai confided. “Perhaps, that’s the eternals paying us back for our support.”

“Works for me!” Janai said, stretching. “So, Brother, ready to brace Mother in her den?”

“It’s nothing bad,” Bannor said. “I’m just there to support Vera.”

The elder sister grinned. “If you say so.”

“Well, we’re going to change,” Sarai said with an arch expression. “Why don’t you two help yourselves and get comfortable?”

Janai raised her goblet in a mock toast to her younger sister. “We’re good, thank you.”

“I’ll go keep Ryelle company,” Senalloy said. She nodded to Janai. “Jan, Dane, I should think you two will stay out of trouble.”

The older sister rolled her eyes. “We’ll manage.”

With a nod to them, Senalloy vanished in sparkle of colors and thump of inrushing air.

They went back to their rooms and changed into more casual clothing. Sarai unbound her hair and brushed it out.

They returned to the common area in time to hear the announcement of guests at the door. The steward led in Gaea flanked by two of the elven elite. The all-mother had changed to a frilly white shift, her dark hair loose and flowing around her like an inky shadow.

“Good afternoon, Mother,” Sarai greeted.

Gaea smiled. The room grew warm with her pleasure. “To you as well, Daughter,” she said in an echoing voice. She nodded to him and held her arms out a little at her sides. “My Son.”

He bowed a little. “Mother.”

Gaea raised an eyebrow and made little coming motions with her fingers.

He sighed and walked over and leaned into the all-mother’s dizzying embrace. He pushed back a moment later to find Daena next to him, obviously not waiting to be chastened into sharing in the all-mother’s affection. The auburn-haired ascendant embraced Gaea fiercely.

Gaea cooed and ran her hands through the girl’s hair and eventually pushed her back. “Ah better,” she said with a satisfied sigh.

Daena leaned back, eyes fluttering and a dreamy smile on her face.

The all-mother rubbed the girl’s shoulder and focused on him. She brushed back her hair as she spoke. “My Son, I thought I would accompany you to Kalindinai’s meeting.”

“Well, of course, you’d be welcome,” he said with shrug. “Don’t you think Kalindinai can resolve it? She seemed to be doing a good job.”

“An excellent job,” Gaea agreed with a nod. “I just want to make sure it gets resolved so that Wren can move on.”

“Huh?” Bannor’s brow furrowed. “I don’t follow.”

Gaea reached up and patted his cheek. “Wren and Vera share very close ties, and in the days to come Wren will need Vera’s full strength. At the same time, Wren can’t focus to do the things she needs to do if she’s worrying about Vera. Clear?”

“Yes,” he answered with a nod. He glanced to Sarai. “Well, we better start out then, otherwise we’ll be late.”

Sarai led the way and the three of them headed toward Kul’Amaron’s northern wing. Bannor knew in a general way where Kalindinai’s private sitting room was, but had not yet been in it. Sarai and Gaea were both quiet. Sarai seemed to be thinking about something. The All-mother was simply enjoying the walk, touching the flowers and statuary along the path, and studying the art and other elvish artifacts along their way.

As they entered golden run, Bannor noticed that security was still being kept high with the mecha of the sub-net standing watch in every corridor. Despite their presence though, the atmosphere seemed light. The gentry had not yet been allowed back into the citadel but it appeared that some staff had been brought in.

Kalindinai’s private sitting area adjoined the bed-chambers she shared with the King, there being a separate access for guests. The large chamber easily rivaled the size of the outer commons in Malbraion hall. Deep plush divans lined three of the walls, elaborate tapestries and crystalline mobiles adding vibrant color and motion to the otherwise static setting. Kalindinai had a single massive audience chair by the door to her chambers. Unlike the stiff rather uncomfortable looking thrones in the main citadel hall, this was padded and rounded, covered with felt and other soft materials.

Hair down, and dressed in blue satin after-dinner robe, the Queen was already sitting in her chair, stacks of documents and papers on the elbow table on her right, and an assortment of refreshments arranged on a tray that fastened to the opposite arm of her seat. Hair down and apparently relaxed, Wren sat on the divan closest to Kalindinai dressed in a black and red surcoat with a griffin head and hammer crest stitched in gold. Dressed in her gray G’Yakki robes, Vera stood at Wren’s knee with her arms behind her back in the rigid posture of a soldier in a formal ‘at ease’ stance. The little woman’s expression gave no outward sign, but her threads betrayed extreme discomfort. Honor and the values of the G’Yakki were as absolute as life and death to her and this situation obviously clouded a lifetime’s worth of beliefs.

Kalindinai smiled as they entered. “Ah, Mother, greetings,” she bowed her head. “Good evening, Mimi and Son-to-be.”

Gaea placed a hand over her heart and inclined her head.

“Mother,” Sarai said nodding.

“Matradomma,” he greeted.

The Queen glanced at Wren, who was smiling. Vera had her eyes closed and jaw clenched. Even though she obviously knew the green mother loved her, she still seemed terrified of the goddess.

“So,” Kalindinai said. “High Mother, you are welcome, but what brings you?”

Gaea smiled and moved to stand behind Vera. The goddess towered over the tiny warrior, who winced and obviously held herself in check from stepping away. The green mother looped her arms around Vera’s neck and pulled her shoulders back against her stomach.

Body trembling, the G’Yakki made a little moaning sound and rocked back.

Gaea kissed the top of Vera’s head. “I am just here to smooth things out.”

“Smooth?” Kalindinai raised an eyebrow. She flipped a few strands of dark hair from her eyes. “Well, if that’s what it takes.” She sighed. “I am simply trying to do right.” She lowered her chin and her gaze went to Wren. “Arwen, what success, if any, did you achieve.”

The blonde savant uncrossed her legs and straightened up. She puffed out her cheeks, glowing blue eyes fixed on Vera. “I think we cleared up some important understandings between us. The mission thing, she just does not want to let go.”

“Leave us understand something,” Gaea said in her powerful voice. “This isn’t really about Su’Ko’s mission. This is about Su’Ko punishing Su’Ko. A penance that has no bounds because being alive is considered itself a sin.”

Vera squirmed in Gaea’s grasp. “Motherrr…” she moaned in an anguished voice. “Please…”

“Daughter, hush,” Gaea said. “Your protest has been noted. Much of this whole issue is a result of ignorance and blind fealty without understanding the reasons why certain policies were made.” The green mother rocked Vera. “The G’Yakki custom of a wife following the husband into death was instituted because of the savant ability to capture spirits and taos. When there is a strong tie and close physical proximity, when a loved one dies their essence is captured. The G’yaku saw this as a wrong thing, that it prevented that person from moving on. They also felt that death was kinder than being forced to give up a loved one twice.”

Bannor saw Wren wince as though she had been through such an experience.

“The truth of it,” Gaea said. “Is the ritual of kuma’hari is a custom, not a law. The elders of her clan simply chose to see it that way. When you confronted them about this practice, they were unwilling to let go of their dogma.” She leaned down. “However, it is not the elders that cling hardest to this belief, but Su’Ko herself. Despite everything people say, actions they take, even the thoughts that she heard as Shael’Dal she would not believe or accept her worth.” Gaea took hold of Vera’s shoulders and yanked the smaller woman around. A fire flared in her jewel like eyes. “To be honest, I tire of it.”

Vera’s jaw dropped as she stared into Gaea’s angry visage.

“Daughter, do you accept my authority above the G’yaku Hoshuhana?”

The woman’s eyes went wide. “I—”

Gaea frowned. “Vera, this not require dissembling or qualification—a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ is sufficient.”

Vera’s lip trembled. “Mother, but—”

The green mother closed one eye. “But—?” She sniffed and raised her chin. “Perhaps I was mistaken. Is not G’yaku Vulcindra my child? Do I not rank above her?”

Vera gritted her teeth. “But the fallen one is only our inspiration…”

Gaea growled, the whole room vibrating with her irritation. Gaea was usually quite careful not to let the massive energies at her command leak out but now they were thick in the air.

The little woman swallowed and bowed her head. “Mother, you are first among G’yaku.”

“Thank you for acknowledging that,” Gaea said. “G’yaku Su’Ko Tai, I have reviewed the edicts of G’yaku Hoshihana Kisho and G’yaku Hoshihana Etsu and have found them wholly wrong and without merit. Therefore your status as shishou dan nijuu is restored immediately and without condition.”

Vera shook her head violently. “You can’t do that!” she yelled.

Gaea narrowed her eyes. “Pardon?” she rumbled. “Could it be you think Kisho or Etsu would argue with me?”

“Mother!”

“Vera…” Gaea said with a scowl. “You say one more word… I will call them here and I will make them and every member of clan Hoshin dogeza to you.”

The little woman’s dusky skin bleached out. Her mouth dropped open.

“I would choose your next words very carefully, Child,” Queen Kalindinai advised.

Tears trickled down Vera’s face.

“Vera,” Bannor said. “It’s time. Really. It’s time you had pride in yourself again. Everyone wants you to be happy. Let yourself be again.”

Wren rose from her seat, being even bigger than Gaea she loomed over Vera. Putting her arms around her, she put her cheek on the top of the smaller woman’s head. “Please,” she whispered.

Bannor saw the swirling knots of confusion roiling inside of the G’Yakki the resolve to continue punishing herself had all but melted. One couldn’t out-stubborn the mother of all, nor could she continue hurting people she professed to love.

With a wrench she turned in Wren’s arms and slammed a full force hug on the blonde ascendant. “Hai,” she muttered, her voice muffled in Wren’s chest. “I—I—accept.”

“See, that was easy,” Sarai said, rolling her eyes. She rubbed his back. “It only took a goddess hitting her in the head a half dozen times.”

“This is all fine and well,” Kalindinai said in a solemn tone. She fingered a few strands of dark-hair as she studied Vera hugging Wren. “However, by Vera’s own words, she owes me a completed mission.”

Vera straightened and looked into the Queen’s eyes. She swallowed and bowed. “What would you have of me?”

“Him.” Kalindinai pointed a finger at Bannor.

He flinched as though stabbed. What did he have to do with anything?

Vera turned her gaze to him and then to Kalindinai. Her brow furrowed.

“He is your mission. You have one cycle of seasons to teach him disciplined warrior’s skills. You will share that duty with Lady Senalloy. Between the two of you, you might be able to make him a passable fighter.”

“Hey, now!” he growled.

Sarai put a restraining hand on his arm. She was smiling though. He frowned—it must have been her idea.

Kalindinai raised an eyebrow. “Seems I heard you complaining that you didn’t know ‘fancy fighting’.”

“I—well, yes…”

“Excellent,” Kalindinai said with a nod. “Vera?”

The G’Yakki looked at the Queen. “This is a mission?”

“Do you know how stubborn that man is? Pray you are up to the challenge.”

She drew a breath and glanced at Wren. She made a little smile and nodded. She bowed. “Hai, I accept your mission.”

Bannor rubbed the back of his head. “Don’t I get a say?”

Kalindinai raised her chin and looked at him through her lashes. “Do you object?”

He felt an icy shiver go through him. He sighed. “No, Matradomma.”

“Good,” she responded. “It’s settled. Su’Ko we will have to renegotiate a price as Gaea took away what I was offering.”

Vera bowed again.

Kalindinai sniffed. “Vera there is one other thing—a request.”

The G’Yakki woman raised her eyes. “Request?”

“Yes,” Kalindinai responded. “I would like you to be one of Sarai’s bridesmaids.”

Vera looked like she’d been hit in the head with a hammer. “Pardon?”

Wren frowned. “Matradomma, you aren’t expecting trouble are you?”

“I hope none are foolish enough to trouble my daughter’s wedding, but it is better safe than sorry. I think having a few experts in covert matters among the party would avert in unfortunate occurrences.”

“Hai,” Vera said with a nod. She stepped around Gaea and bowed to Sarai. “I would be honored.” She turned to the Queen and bowed again.

“Well, now that we’ve resolved that,” Gaea said. “My children, if you please, I would like some time alone with Kalindinai to discuss some private matters.” She turned her head and leaned forward. “I located what you were looking for.”

Kalindinai straightened in her chair and her expression brightened. “Did you? So quickly?” Smiling, she clapped her hands. “Sarai, Bannor, Wren, Vera,” she nodded. “Thank you. We look forward to morning breakfast.” She gestured toward the door.

With nods to the Queen and Gaea, the four of them filed out and shut the door.

The four of them stopped in the corridor, listening as someone slid the bolt closed on the heavy iron-wood portal. “What was that about?”

“Hmmm,” Sarai said.

Wren pulled her fingers through her long blonde hair. “What would Mother and Matradomma be up to?” She sighed and looked down at Vera. “A bridesmaid? You are going to be stunning. I’ve seen the dresses. Sarai has excellent taste.”

Sarai folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. “A compliment?”

Wren sputtered. “We’re a bit beyond that aren’t we? I have the fashion sense of street urchin.” She shrugged. “I know someone else’s style when I see it.”

His wife-to-be raised an eyebrow. “Well then, you’re coming shopping with me tomorrow then, so you can wear something appropriate. I can’t insult the nobility by having you be one of my maids, but I can have you as a maiden of arms.”

Wren’s glowing eyes went wide. “Huh?”

“You will carry out the swords during the blood ceremony,” Sarai said. “You can look just as you are. A statuesque spirit of nature, we brush out that shiny hair and you let yourself glow—it will be stunning. Janai will be jealous.”

“Me?”

“Wren, have you even looked in a mirror recently?”

The blonde ascendant’s brow furrowed. “Actually, I’ve tried not to. Besides, I don’t know if—if I’m going to stay an ascendant.”

Sarai shrugged. “I still want you. You have been at our side since the beginning, and I can’t think of anyone better suited to represent our willingness to defend each other until death.”

“Whoa,” Wren said, rubbing the back of her head. “That’s heavy.” She looked down as Vera pushed on her. She put her arm around the smaller lady. “On second thought, show me to it.” She clapped Bannor on the shoulder. “It is kind of a special occasion.”

Vera broke away from Wren and stepped over and looked up at him.

“Yes, Vera?”

The little woman shook her head. “No Vera, I—I am—Su’Ko,” She pressed her hands together and dipped her forehead to them.

“All right, Su’Ko,” he corrected.

The little woman glanced back at the door that they had recently exited and turned her dark eyes on him. “Matradomma very serious about me teaching you.”

“She’s serious about everything,” he said.

Her dark eyes flashed. Her voice hardened a little. “Are you serious?”

That caught him by surprise. “Uh. Well…”

“Matradomma give me twenty score-days to make you passable,” the little woman told him.

“That’s easy, I’m already passable,” he answered.

Vera folded her arms, she glanced over at Wren and up at him. “Aie.” She sighed and shook her head. She looked to Sarai and to Wren. “I must go speak with Lady Senalloy now. In morning, you come fighting room at five bells. We start.” She turned, bowed to Sarai and dashed off down the corridor.

Sarai tilted her head. She glanced at Bannor. “Well, it’s nice to see her motivated.”

Bannor frowned at the corridor down which Vera had disappeared. “But she’s motivated to kick my arse!”

Wren giggled. “It only hurts for the first six moons.”

Return to Contents

Chapter Forty

I have fought entire wars and been less
exhausted. Wren just giggles, and Sarai
says it’s good for me. Senalloy says that
hard training is a master demonstrating a
love of their student; imparting the skills
that will protect them later in life. I fear I
will learn what being loved to death is like…
—Bannor Nalthane Starfist,
Prince Conjugal of Malan

Hades. Bannor collapsed onto the bed in the suite he shared with Sarai in Malbraion hall. He lay there in the satin coverlets, shafts of reddish light shining through the cast open balcony shutters. The room smelled of incense and a breeze rustled the wind chimes on the terrace. He groaned. It felt like he had forged across grim Hel itself on his hands and knees.

“Ah, there you are!” he heard Sarai’s bright voice.

He winced at the volume of her voice. Somehow even his ears hurt. “Please… just let me die in peace…”

She stopped over him hands on hips, silvery hair falling around her features. It had been two scoredays and his wife-to-be seemed to be more vibrant and radiant every time he saw her. She wore a silver chased blue surcoat now half unbuttoned, white gloves and a riding crop in her belt. She had probably been out surveying the new estates for clan Felspar and clan Solaris. A few days ago, the new alliance had stood together watching in awe as Idun raised the Kergatha house out of an empty plot. Sometimes it was easy to forget the truly enormous power of some of their acquaintances.

Sarai brushed at her hair and frowned at him. “I swear you’re such a baby, you’re half immortal and you complain about getting a little exercise.”

He sighed and rocked his head back. “I told you, neither of them will let me use my enhanced form for training. I feel like I’m coming unraveled.”

“Why don’t you just shift back?”

“Too… tired,” he groaned.

“I’ve got just the thing.” She pulled the riding crop and gloves from her belt and set them aside. Tossing her hair back she knelt on the bed, leaned over and kissed him.

Sarai tasted nectar sweet and he felt a surge of warmth hum through his body.

“Mmmm,” he murmured. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” she burbled. She sniffed and wrinkled her nose. “Now get out of our sheets and get in the bath. You stink.”

“Argh.”

They cuddled in the bath and he washed her hair. Naked in the tub as she was now, it was easy to see how her pregnancy was becoming too obvious to conceal. As it was, Sarai already wore a pendant to court that disguised her appearance to avoid any observers sharp eyed enough to notice.

He ran his hands across her soapy shoulders, massaging the supple flesh and marveling in the silky smoothness of her skin. Sarai’s pregnancy had gotten off to a rocky start with the baby consuming far more energy than she could provide. Between the miraculous body designed by Mercedes and the nearly three moons of adaptation to a shaladen, his wife-to-be exuded magic and life-force. Recently, it seemed as if she never grew fatigued, and if anything she’d grown even stronger. Along with that strength came enough appetite for three healthy princesses. While she was sometimes moody, mostly she was happy. The happiest he had ever seen her. He had always found Sarai beautiful, but her abundant health and high spirits made her so breathtaking it almost hurt to look at her sometimes.

“Mmmm,” Sarai rocked her head back, her cheek brushing against his knuckles. “Hey, you stopped. That was feeling sooo good.”

He bent forward and kissed the back of her neck. “As you wish, my Star.”

She squirmed against him as he continued rubbing her back. “Uhrm. Hard to believe, the ceremony is only a few days away.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “First, I was dreading it. Now, I just want to hurry it up.”

“Are you ready to go away with me, hmmm?” She turned and looked at him from the corner of her eye.

“Oh, you know I am,” he growled.

She chuckled. “So, preparations?”

“I finished your list just in time to be half-killed by Senalloy.”

“Complain, complain,” Sarai said. “She adores you.”

“I’m not tough enough for her love, ugh.” He fell back against the side of the tub and made some waves in the steaming soapy water. “I’d quit the whole thing, but I promised.”

“And why would you quit?” She glanced over her shoulder. “Are you saying you haven’t learned anything?”

He sighed. “They’re both great instructors, it’s just—well—it’s wasted on me.”

Sarai turned in the tub and faced him, glowing violet eyes hard as she glared at him. “Wasted?”

“Star, there are dozens of people more deserving, who would benefit more,” he said in serious tone. “I’m an ascendant. I can get by like I always have. Take Daena, she has no training at all…”

“She’s getting training… and she’s an ascendant.” She took his face in her hands. “My One, I love you and I cherish the way you protect me and Vhina—but I want you to do more than that. I want you to protect yourself.” She pulled him down and kissed him. “You are precious to me and anything that keeps us together is not a waste. Understand?”

He met her gaze, feeling the love in her words. How could he argue with that? He let out a breath and nodded.

Hands braced behind him, Bannor sat on the floor of the citadel workout room perspiration trickling down his face. His arms shook and his shoulders ached. He took another labored breath and let it out slow. Dressed in her gray robe, hair braided, Vera stood a pace in front of him, thumbs in her sash, a serious expression on her face. That was one of things that both amazed and annoyed him about the little woman. She was so damn patient. She never seemed disappointed or got frustrated with his repeated failures. She’d just ask him to do it again, demonstrate what she wanted, or ask him what went wrong.

Damn. He felt so stupid. Why did she care about this acrobatic nonsense anyway? Punches, kicks, knees, elbows, blocks, counters, stances, and balance; all that made perfect sense to him.

“You okay, Bannor?” he heard Wren’s echoing voice ask from behind. He turned to see the blonde ascendant entering the practice chamber. Today, she came has her willowy statuesque self, golden tresses gleaming in the early morning dimness. She was dressed in a simple blue halter and leather breeches, but looked stunning anyway. In the time since returning to Kul’Amaron, she had been fighting a battle with herself and Gaea. For days at a time he would see her back as short feisty Wren, still strong and confident but looking up at the world. Then he would see her back as an ascendant, walking tall, exuberant and carefree. Ziedra often teased her about her ‘ascendant addiction’.

“Yes,” he responded with a sigh. “Just got the wind knocked out of me for a moment.”

“Good morn, Su’Ko-sama,” Wren said bowing her head.

“Greetings,” Vera responded with a smile.

The way the little woman’s eyes lit up when she saw Wren, it made him tremble inside. The bond between the two of them had been strong since before Gaea had forced Vera’s honor back on her. Since that day, and as the little woman grew to accept and embrace the change, that devotion had only grown stronger.

He heard Wren’s steps approach and the blonde ascendant leaned down next to him. She drew close enough that he could smell some kind of spice fruit in her hair. Wren looked with him up at Vera.

Vera leaned down and made a coming gesture with her finger. “Again. You do once, I let you go early.”

He rocked his head back. “Mistress Vera, I’m not light enough to fly around like you want. I’m too big for it.”

Vera simply gestured again.

“Yes, mistress,” he pushed himself to his feet and pulled the fighting harness straight.

The blonde ascendant rose behind him. “Which maneuver is this?”

“Gusaru din maki,” he grumbled.

“Ah,” Wren smiled. “Those are fun.”

He scowled at her.

She rolled her eyes. She leaned close her nose almost touching his. “Now look. Right now, I’m as tall as you, right?”

“Right.”

“And I weigh probably three times as much, right?”

“Yes.”

“And ascendants don’t bend so good, so, it should be really hard in this body, right?”

He furrowed his brow. “Uhhh, right.”

Wren stepped back from him and in a single fluid motion flipped heels over head and landed back on her feet with a floor shaking thud that rattled the room. “Gusaru din,” she said. She kicked up, swaying backward, hitting her hands, pushing off and landing on her feet again. “Gusaru din maki.”

Bannor stared. She hadn’t even taken a breath or hesitated.

“It’s not about weight, or strength, or size—it’s balance. Everything in G’yaku comes back to balance. First we drill to develop the strength to do a move, then we develop the technique.” She rolled her shoulders. “I know why you’re having trouble. It’s because you think it’s silly. Vera isn’t so good about telling you why you need to learn the move. How many times have you had your feet taken out from under you since you started training?”

He scowled. “Countless.”

“What happened when you jumped over the sweep?”

“I got whacked in mid-jump.”

She whipped backward, toes whistling through the air as she flipped and landed a pace back. “If you tried to attack while I was doing a ‘flip evade’, chances are you’re going to catch a counter attack. Even if you somehow catch me, I’m already falling back and the spin is going to deflect most of your attack’s energy.” She tossed her hair and walked back toward him. “Take off your jerkin.”

“Huh, why?”

Wren frowned at him. “Just do it.”

He sighed, and loosened the straps on the fighting harness. He wore it to take the sting out of getting hammered by Vera’s steel-hard little knuckles. He loosened the sleeves, undid the ties and let the hauberk fall to the floor.

He rolled his shoulders, feeling the cool morning air strike the bare skin of his perspiring torso.

Wren kicked the armor aside. She looked him up and down. “You look good mountain boy. You are going to be so handsome for the wedding.”

He colored a little.

She clapped a fist in her palm. “We’ll get this. This is waaay easier than beating Baronians. Come on…” She held out her hand.

Looking into Wren’s brilliant blue eyes he felt her strength and knew she was right. After all he had been through. Letting something simple, something physical, stymie him—even for a moment—what had he been thinking? “Let’s do it.” He took her hand…

***

Bannor stood on a rock taking deep breaths of flower-scented air. His heart was beating fast, and his chest felt tight. The day had arrived, and he had somehow survived to see it. The morning sun gleamed brilliant on the dewy glade, making the grass glisten and sparkle. A light rain had misted the trees during the pre-dawn hours and the arcs of a half dozen rainbows shafted down out of the clouds. Pennons and streamers of every color were strung through the boughs.

His gaze went to the broad granite stage carved out of the mountain-side. Spring water cascaded into cisterns on either side of the hundred pace wide dais that spread sections out into the clearing like the points of a star. Sprays and bouquets of decorative plants lined the railed stone perimeter. From the wooden shafts hung dozens of standards, coats of arms, paper lanterns, wooden fertility totems, and crystalline luck pylons.

He drew a breath, mentally climbing the stairs and ascending each of the five tiers to the summit where he and Sarai would stand in the blessed water of cleansing before the priestess and recite their final devotions.

It would be a long day. The ceremony would be trial of sorts, as much to entertain the guests as it was to confirm the love he shared with Sarai. It would begin here where he stood with the recitation of nature’s poem. He would call out to Sarai who would emerge on the stage, escorted by her father and mother. Then he would begin the glade walk, he circling the audience to the east and she to the west.

The walk would end with each of them on the opposite wings of the stage where they would sing the aria. The song would finally draw them together where they would begin to forge toward their joining. He would play the pipes and she would do the maiden’s dance, eventually dancing together before ascending to the crimson tier where they would perform the blood oath. It was during this part when Wren would carry out the swords. Next came the tier of solstices where they would be clothed in the vestments of nature and perform the seasons ceremony. Second to last came the tier of kindred where he would do honors to Sarai’s family and formally request the blessing of the King and Queen in their marriage. Because he had no family, Gaea and Vanidaar would stand as his mother and father for appearance sake. Finally, they would climb to the highest level to the purification pool to the do the joining and final devotions.

Bannor looked down at his hands. He drew a breath. He was shaking. He hadn’t seen Sarai since a little after noon yesterday. She had tuned her shaladen so he could sense her well-being but not her thoughts. He didn’t know the reasons for doing it, but guessed there was some tradition being observed. Gaea only knew how many other female “traditions” she needed to address prior the wedding. Whatever they were, Megan and Euriel had been enlisted to help her with them. He had noticed that as the wedding drew closer that she had been more and more in the company of the married women among the Shael Dal, and the other friends. Perhaps she was more nervous than she let on?

He sighed. It was silly, but even after this short amount of time he missed her. This event was so enormous and had such gigantic ramifications. It made him quiver inside. He was a leaf caught in a gale, seemingly alone in vast storm.

He heard forest leaves crunch and the click of boots on rock. A hand clapped on his shoulder. “Ah, here you be. Zounds, Man, half of Malbraion is concerned you’d run off!”

Bannor turned to see Laramis already dressed in the spotless white and gold of a high justicar’s formal court raiment. Hair slicked back, buttons and boots polished to a mirror sheen, the paladin of Ukko looked every bit the part of the gentleman he was.

He sighed and thumped the other man on the shoulder. “Run off?” He shook his head. “Where would I go?”

“You have a point there.” Laramis grinned. “Lady Sarai would hunt you down certain…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “So, a bit of the pre-wedding jitters is it?”

He nodded. “I thought I was past it, but I couldn’t sleep last night. This morning I could barely button my bloody shirt.”

“You love her fierce,” Laramis said with a nod, dark eyes serious. “Of that, there’s no doubt. I recall my legs being a bit unsteady when I wed my dearest. You’ll get through, just tell yourself it’s just one day, the rest is a lifetime.”

He puffed out his cheeks and blew out slow. “Thanks Laramis. Thanks for being willing to stand by me through this whole long drawn out mess.”

“Zounds man, think nothing of it. We’ve faced demons and pantheon lords together. Today, the worst we’ll get is a sunburn and be the butt of a few jests here and there. Something I’d gladly endure to see my good friend happy.”

Bannor smiled. He really had been blessed to find such comrades.

“Good morning,” a deep female voice said from the trees.

He turned to see Senalloy melt out of the shadows. The silver-haired elder sauntered over to where they stood. She paused with hands on hips. Dressed in the utilitarian gray of the Nightslash elite she remained attractive, a towering curvaceous lady that he had come to respect as much for her wisdom and honor as he did her amazing powers.

“Milady,” Laramis bowed. “Ever the beautiful sight, today is no exception.”

The Baronian lady leaned over and kissed the paladin on the cheek.

“Morning, Sen,” he said. “Do I need to guess why you’re here?”

She grinned. “I doubt it. If you were running I was to lay a sandbag upside your head and drag you back. If you were lost, just give you a few shakes and put you in Matradomma’s lap.”

“Matradomma?” he frowned. “I’m not due to meet her until nine bells.”

She stepped forward and leaned close. “What happened three nights ago, hmmm?”

“The solstice, we had the ceremony to the turn the water clocks—a—head. Ah spit! Damn, I am sooo dead.”

“Well, not yet… but if you aren’t there in a quarter bell I’d begin fearing for that thick patch of hair of yours.”

“Leave us go,” Laramis said, giving him a clap on the back. “Making Matradomma cross on this day could live with you a while.”

“The rest of my life…” Bannor moaned. “Where is she, Sen?”

“Gryphon hall, getting things prepared for the reception.” She glanced back toward the citadel. “Want me to teleport you back?”

“Please.”

The silver-haired Baronian nodded. She made an expansive gesture, mumbling words that grew to a shout that carried them into darkness. With a flash of stars, a stomach churning twist and a thump of rushing air they were standing in the citadel yard a quarter league from the ceremony site where he had been daydreaming.

“Zounds,” Laramis muttered, rubbing his stomach. “I still have yet to get used to that.” He looked around. “ ‘Tis a grand sight is it not?”

Bannor nodded as his gaze took in the pennons and standards fluttering in the breeze all around the citadel ramparts. Caterers, messengers, and guards moved in and out the various entrances in a steady stream like lines of digger bugs serving a hive.

To go from a family that barely acknowledged his existence, to this… He blew out his cheeks.

Laramis clapped him on the shoulder. “What’s the matter, Friend? You seem a bit pale. It’s not as if we are bracing an army of demons.”

“Sometimes, I’d rather fight an army of demons…” he said, shaking his head.

Senalloy knuckled his back and smiled. “You’ll get through it. It’s entertainment for the citizens and it’s expected. They want to believe that the ruling family is special. Come.” She pulled on his arm.

The Baronian lady lead the way up the steps into the east citadel entrance, guards saluting and nodding as she passed. One thing that had been happening since Kalindinai hired Senalloy, the various corps of servants and militia had gone through a purging. From maid to guard to minister, Senalloy had scrutinized every person that ever set foot in Kul’Amaron. Any whose loyalty, motivations, or ability she questioned, she arranged to have the now powerfully telepathic royal family review. As a result, King Jhaan had dismissed nearly half the citadel staff. This caused a huge turmoil in court, the proceedings of which Bannor had been called in to witness on occasion. After several duels and assassination attempts on her life, Senalloy was quickly becoming a legend.

They made their way into the main audience chamber, Gryphon Hall, which was being prepared for the massive after-wedding reception and dinner. As they stepped through the archway, Bannor had to blink and look again at the elaborate display. The galleries for the noble houses on either side of the vast chamber had been decorated with flowers and streamers, extra seating rows given up to make space for dining tables. With the three tiers of seats on either side of the seventy pace long chamber and the tables surrounding the newly constructed dance floor, he guessed there to be seating for a thousand.

From the dozens of workers building, arranging, and decorating it was apparent the King and Queen were not concerned about cost. Any one of the hundreds of table settings immediately in view probably cost more than Bannor could have earned in his most profitable summer as a Tenax ranger. He didn’t think he would ever grow accustomed to such opulence. Where did all the funds come from? The people of Malan were not heavily taxed or levied, certainly not like in Ivaneth or Corwin. Some day he might learn how it all worked. No, he corrected himself—he would be required to learn how it all worked.

He located Queen Kalindinai standing on the raised stage at the head of the room where the royals would be seated during the event. Already dressed in the flowing fur-ruffed robes of ruler-ship, dark hair piled up and threaded with jewels she was completely surrounded by staff making reports and receiving instructions. He found it amazing that she could keep it all straight. Dressed in a pearlescent blue gown, translucent hair arranged and sparkling in a rainbow of color, the eldest sister, Ryelle, stood to one side similarly occupied.

As they approached, Bannor overheard some of the discussion. Much of it had to do with who would be sitting where and how to decorate their place settings. He remembered then the discussion that had taken place during the party when the Baronians first attacked, and how much went into deciding the placement of nobility. He knew that Gaea would be attending along with Megan and Koass. Where did you seat a goddess, or an eternal? It had to be giving the castellans fits.

They didn’t make it to the stage. Kalindinai straightened up, able to see over the heads of most of the elves around her. She glared at him with narrowed amber eyes. “Bannor… why aren’t you—dressed?”

“Uhhh…”

“Ryelle, pull Jan off the honor guard detail and have her fix him—right now!”

“Matradomma,” he started. “I can—”

“Stand still,” she pointed at him. “Don’t even move!”

Caught flat footed, all he could do was stand embarrassed as over fifty T’Evagduran staff eyed him with amusement.

Ryelle did not acknowledge her mother, at least not aloud. Excusing herself, she pushed through the crowd surrounding her and went out through the exit behind the stage. In a matter of heartbeats she returned with Janai. Likely, she had used the shaladen to summon her younger sister.

Janai was dressed in brilliant satiny red, with festoons of jewels all through her gown and hair. Of the three sisters, Janai’s flamboyance and sense of what men and women found attractive was unrivaled. With moons of shaladen energies honing and strengthening her form, her aspect was nothing short of stunning.

With a roll of her amber eyes the second princess waded through the crowd toward him robes flashing and jingling.

She came up, put her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. She took hold of his wrist. “Sen, I have him. Would you help Rye? She’s going crazy.”

Senalloy bowed. “Of course.” She nodded to him. “See you later.”

“Come on…” Janai said pulling on him. She glanced over her shoulder. “Laramis, I thought you were going to watch after him?”

“Apologies Arminwen, but I had to get ready myself… It did not occur to me our groom would travel out-of-doors.”

The second princess pulled them into the western gallery toward the older part of Kul’Amaron. Guards and staff were everywhere cleaning and preparing. Sharp eyed mecha and shape-shifted valkyries borrowed from Idun stood sentry watching every hall and doorway.

“This is a bit much for me,” he complained. “I was nervous and forgot about the time…”

Janai sighed. “Brother-to-be, do you want to keep your head? Do not make mother cross with you.”

He winced. “How’s Sarai? Is she okay, she’s not letting me feel her on the shaladen.”

“You’re not supposed to peek at the bride,” Janai chided with a frown. “That includes cheating with a shaladen.” She sniffed. “She’s fine—going crazy—but fine.” She reached up and pressed a finger to a silver pendant hanging around her neck. The item glowed and a tall figure shimmered into being, walking at her shoulder.

“Hey, Jan!” Daena chirped, putting her arm around the second princess and giving her a squeeze. Moons ago Janai’s ward prodigal was already assuming forms that made men stare and trip over themselves. In the intervening time, her ability had only continued to get more refined. She had stopped wearing the exaggerated shapes, now preferring taut curvy bodies that were both strong and attractive. Recently, her shapes were elven in aspect, upturned glowing green eyes highlighting slim exotic features. For the wedding, she had dressed to match Janai, wearing satiny red highlighted with gold jewelry. “What did you call for?”

Janai hooked a thumb over her shoulder at him.

Daena looked back. She raised an eyebrow. “Bannor? Why aren’t you dressed? Matradomma will kick your arse.”

“Uhhh, too late,” he murmured.

“We have dressing duty,” Janai filled in with a grin.

“Do we?” The girl raised her chin. She glanced back at him. For a moment, he saw a glint in her eye, a glimmering of the old covetous Daena. She smiled. “Brother, we’ll have you ready in no time.”

Janai led them into a heavily guarded corridor to a suite where two mecha and two valkyries watched the door. The guards challenged them, and verified Janai’s credentials before letting them in.

Inside the chamber, the bed and other amenities had been shoved into one corner and two huge ironwood wardrobes had been stuffed into the remaining space. Racks bristling with various tailor’s and beautician’s accoutrements had been leaned against the walls. Three hassocks and an ornate triple mirror were the only other furniture in the chamber.

Janai pulled him to the cluster of hassocks and pushed him down to sit. “Dane, get him out of that tunic.” She looked back to the Justicar, and nudged an open jewelry drawer with her foot. “Laramis, please find him something appropriate to compliment sapphire blue. Sarai will be wearing dark stones.”

The burly warrior rubbed the back of his head. “Hmmm, let us see.” He crouched by the case and began thumbing through the items.

Daena unbuttoned his tunic and tugged it off. Folding the cloth she eyed him shaking her head. “Brother, you’re turning into Master Corim.”

His brow furrowed and he frowned. “Is that good?”

Daena grinned.

Behind him Janai laughed. “It sure doesn’t hurt, Brother-to-be!” She came over and handed something to Daena.

“Hold still,” the auburn-haired ascendant told him, folding something in her hand.

When the cold damp cloth hit his shoulder he jerked. “Hey, I already washed.”

“Brother, you will have to be in this suit for bells, and ones much heavier under a bright sun. This stuff keeps you from, uhhh, souring things unintentionally.”

He blinked at her.

“Brother, just cooperate,” Janai said with a frown.

He forced himself to relax as Daena rubbed the vaguely alkaline smelling stuff on his arms, shoulders, and chest. The liquid did have a cooling effect and it made his skin tingle.

“Measure,” Janai murmured tossing something to Daena.

Daena fussed behind his back doing something. “Six, errr, six and half.”

“Carellion, you’ve grown since we last measured you, damn those two were supposed to let up on your training!”

He snorted. “They did.”

The second princess sighed. “I’ll have to do a little magic with this. Rrrr—” she growled. She rose and came over to him. “Hold your arms out.”

He did so. Janai took a ribbon with markings on it and wrapped it around the thickest part of his arm on one side and then the other. She came around in front of him measuring down the length of his arms. She grinned up at him. “Are you sure this is your mortal form?”

He rolled his eyes. “Positive.”

Laramis came over to him and took his left hand and placed it on his wrist. He held up some different colored rings next to Bannor’s knuckles one at time. “Ah, here’s a set that will work.”

Bannor closed his eyes and tried to relax, simply following instructions and letting the three do as they pleased. He never had been very good at fancy dressing. It was probably best they were helping him. Likely if he had done it alone the Queen would have scolded him and ended up having Janai redress him anyway. Things happening as they did avoided that additional embarrassment.

Between clothing, hair, jewelry and even skin powder it took the better part of a bell to get fully prepared. Janai had indeed been forced to use low level magic to tailor his marriage regalia.

He stared at the mirror not recognizing the tall broad-shouldered nobleman dressed in a white surcoat and gold epaulets looking back. Through some technique obviously well practiced, Laramis had gotten his face much smoother than he had ever managed.

Could that really be Bannor Starfist? “Whoa. Is Sarai even going to recognize me?”

“She’ll manage,” Janai laughed.

“You are really handsome, Brother,” Daena said with a sparkle in her eye.

“Thank you, Janai, Daena,” he said. He gave them each hug.

“It was fun,” Janai responded with a smile. She leaned her head to one side. “Mother tells me she is happy with how you turned out. She also advises that you drink one or two mugs of sweet-water before the ceremony.”

“I’ll do that, sounds like good advice. Lots of talking and singing in front of an audience,” he drew a shaky breath.

“You’ll do fine, Brother,” Daena encouraged.

“We’d best get back,” Janai told them. “We still have a lot to do before the ceremony starts.” She rose to tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek. “You are the picture of debonair, Brother-to-be. I look forward to seeing you up on the stage and sharing a nectar with my new brother at the reception.”

He bowed to Janai and kissed her hand.

Daena put her hands around one of his and squeezed. The smile she gave him was somewhat forced, but mostly genuine. He nodded to her.

He and Laramis watched the two disappear down the hall.

Laramis let out a breath. “We’ve attended to dressing the part. Leave us on to the rest of the things on our list…”

There were quite a number of things to be done by the groom prior to the ceremony. Some were mundane things like paper work that had to be signed, sealed and witnessed by ministers on the day of the occasion. Then were formal rituals like the receiving of swords. His official petitions with the general of the militia, the general of the cavalry, and the King himself…

Bannor took a breath of hot dry air, it was barely into late morning and the legion stadium already felt stifling, especially with several hundred elf archers, footmen, and cavalry all standing in witness. He swallowed and drew shallower breaths to calm his thudding heart. The wooden floor of the arena hummed with tension as he and Laramis marched in following the King’s honor guard into the presence of Malan’s military high tribune.

Rows of soldiers in formal dress stepped back to form a path as they proceeded into the center of the circle.

King Jhaan, dressed in black griffon armor festooned with war braids and campaign medals, stood in the center with solemn expression, his pale hair twitching around the edges of the heavy dragon-crest helm he wore. On the King’s left arrayed in red dragon-scale armor stood cavalry general Thurrgis, a wiry blade of an elf with glowing sapphire-colored eyes. The burly gray-bearded white-eyed militia general Baerdin stood opposite wearing a jeweled adamantine war-web. From a few steps back, dressed in glossy black, silver hair tied back, face serious and violet eyes gleaming, Senalloy towered over general Baerdin, formal double swords resting on her shoulders.

The honor guard peeled off to either side, melting into the ranks on either side. Bannor and Laramis stepped up together and saluted sharply, fist to chest. The tribune saluted as a unit, hard boots clacking on the wooden floor.

Two soldiers trundled out a padded kneeling board and placed it in front of the king. As the two elves faded back into the crowd, Bannor drew a breath, clicked his heels and took two steps forward and saluted again.

He cleared his throat, focused making sure he spoke in elvish and in the proper dialect. “Dom’Ista, I, Bannor Nathane Starfist of Tenax, come to offer my heart, strength, and mind to the protection and service of Malan.”

“Kneel,” King Jhaan intoned.

Bannor placed one knee down on the board, hands laced over his thigh and head bowed.

“Petitioner Starfist,” the King continued. “Do you swear to put the needs of your King, Malan and its citizens before your own?”

“I do,” he responded.

“Will you lawfully serve Malan with honor and dignity, upholding and respecting the rites and customs of country and King, both here and abroad?”

“I will.”

“Very well,” King T’Evagduran responded. “By the power vested in me I officially grant admission to the armed service of Malan.” The King stepped forward and pinned the griffon-head emblems to either side of Bannor’s collar. “Rise soldier Starfist.”

Bannor rose and saluted again.

General Thurrgis focused blue eyes on Bannor, his lean face serious but not hostile or forbidding. Bannor had only met the elf on a few occasions. His understanding was that he and King Jhaan had been good friends coming up through the ranks, and that the King had been Thurrgis’ archer for many aerial battles.

The general stepped forward and saluted.

Bannor returned the salute. “Sir.”

Thurrgis spoke in a raw clipped tone surprisingly deep for his thin frame. “Recruit Starfist, what is a soldier’s heart?”

“Sir, his duty, Sir,” Bannor responded with the ritual answer.

“Recruit Starfist, what is a soldier’s blood?”

“Sir, his determination, Sir.”

“Recruit Starfist, what is a soldier’s mind?”

“Sir, his mission, Sir.”

“Recruit Starfist, do you swear to serve in the ranks with distinction and pride, executing the will of King and country?”

“Sir, I so swear, Sir.”

Thurrgis bowed his head. He drew a breath and let it out slow. There was a glint in his eye, the first emotion that Bannor had seen him show since the ceremony started. “Recruit, I accept your oath, and commission you as cavalry midach, serving in the talon-strike elite.” He reached back and took a short jeweled sheath from one of his subordinates. “Midach, weapon accept.”

Bannor snapped a heel and knelt with his hands upraised.

The general stepped forward, placed the sheathed weapon across Bannor’s raised palms, and returned to his place.

“Midach,” the general ordered. “Attention for weapon inspection.”

Bannor rose, stepped back, turned the sheath vertical and drew the dan-sword in a single long motion. Sliding the sheath into his belt he flipped the blade tip up with the hilt at his waist. The blade winking mirror bright and lethal sharp in the bright sun.

As he held the weapon he was found himself glad of all the grueling bells he had spent with Senalloy training weapons. Whoever prepared the weapon had weighted the hilt and blade deliberately to make maneuvers difficult. Senalloy had prepared him for that exact eventuality saying that it was a common trick played to make a new officer lose face. The King had stressed to him repeatedly that the sword receiving and presentation flourish were an officer’s first impression on the troops. Any slip up significantly reduced the respect a new member received.

Obviously, whoever had weighted the sword wanted more than a simple slip up. The weapon was grossly out of balance. Anything more than the most casual aerial maneuver would send the mithril shaft careening out of reach.

With a sigh, keeping his eyes on the general, he willed the tiniest shred of Xersis to travel down his arm around the hilt and up the blade.

“Midach,” the general ordered. “Fall back and weapon present.”

Heart speeding up, Bannor drew a breath. He had spent dozens, if not hundreds of bells, practicing this flourish. It was a combination of things that both Vera and Senalloy had taught him. He thought of Sarai and her beauty, and he made the flashing whirling blade a dazzling tribute to his love for his wife-to-be. The blade shrieked around in the flying dragon spiral, first diving, then soaring, to go spinning into the sky then come point down into his waiting hand just before the tip struck the wood.

A host of murmuring went through the soldiers around him. He did the four elements tribute salute before sliding the weapon away in its sheath. He bowed to Thurrgis and saluted. The general bowed as well and returned the salute. A slight narrowing of the elf’s eyes were the only indication that he might have had a hand in the sabotage of the weapon.

Bannor glanced to the King. The elf Lord was smiling.

General Baerdin stepped forward. “Midach Starfist, tell me what is honor?”

Bannor collected himself, stilling his body after the frenetic energy of the presentation. “Sir, honor is doing the right thing, Sir.”

“Midach Starfist, what is law?”

“Sir, law is the justice dictated by King and country, Sir.”

“Midach Starfist, what is freedom?”

He swallowed. Though it was part of the ritual it was a question that hit home with him. “Sir, freedom is what we fight for, Sir.”

The white-eyed elf smiled. “Midach Starfist, weapon accept.”

Bannor knelt and held up his hands.

The general accepted then placed the larger sheathed caansword across Bannor’s hands.

“Midach, attention for weapon inspection.”

As before, he stepped back, pulled and posed. This time the sabotage of the weapon was much more subtle. The tang of the blade felt lose in the hilt. A quick look with his thread sight told him the pin holding it would give the moment the weapon was swung with any speed. He sighed.

<Dom’Ista,> he thought to the King through the shaladen. <I understand I’m a human, but do the generals have to try so hard to make me look bad?>

The King’s eyes narrowed slightly. <What?> he answered using telepathy.

<I present with this sword, and someone is going to get stuck when the blade flies off!>

Lord T’Evagduran sighed. <Nothing to be done for it now. Just keep it simple and I’ll have a private chat with Baerdin.>

<I have a better idea.>

<Wh…> the King didn’t get a chance to finish his query.

“Midach,” the general ordered. “Fall back and weapon present.”

Bannor used the same trick as before. Using the shaladen’s shape-changing ability to imperceptibly modify the sword, tiny threads of ultimately strong enchanted ishtite and adamantine winding through the damaged parts.

Sliding the sheath away, he went into the talon-shriek’s dance, swinging the sword at full speed. However, he changed the movements so that the arcs of the blade swung toward the general. Every time the blade came around, he saw the elf leaning back and trying not to wince.

He noticed the King watching out of the corner of his eye, brow furrowed as he watched the other elf’s reaction. Bannor finished the flourish, the blade pirouetting pommel down on his palm before he flipped the blade tip down and dropped into a kneeling position with both hands on the hilt.

For a long moment, Baerdin stared at him saying nothing. Around him the crowd of soldiers were nodding at the competently performed weapon present.

The general coughed. “Midach Starfist,” he coughed again. “Do—do you swear to serve the elite with distinction and pride, executing the will of King and country?”

“Sir, I so swear, Sir.”

Baerdin drew a breath. He glanced to the King and then back to Bannor. “Midach, I accept your oath, and commission you as militia Kul’praelor, serving in the Nightslash elite.” He stepped forward and put the gold chain and amulet around Bannor’s neck and stepped back.

He realized then that the general was truly shaken. The elf hadn’t expected the ceremony to be completed, probably expecting that the blade flying out of Bannor’s caan-sword would badly injure or kill someone and cause an inquiry.

“Kul’praelor Starfist,” King Jhaan said. “Rise and take your place.”

Bannor stood up and went to stand behind Baerdin. The white-eyed elf watched his every movement like he expected to be attacked.

“Soldiers of Malan, I present to you Kul’praelor Starfist, your future prince!”

The soldiers let out a cheer.

Inwardly, Bannor let out a breath. He had managed to sidestep yet another plot. He hoped that was the extent of it. For Sarai’s sake, he wanted her wedding to be perfect. It meant so much to her and her family.

There was a short reception where the King and generals introduced he and Laramis to the top officers, some of whom Bannor already knew. Though everything was civil with no overt hostility, he sensed an underlying tension running through the crowd. It cemented in his mind the suspicion that there were a group of individuals who had intended to disrupt the ceremony.

With bows to the King and the high generals, he and Laramis were dismissed to finish the rest of his wedding preparations.

When they were out of sight and well into the tunnel leading beneath Kul’Amaron’s western battlement, Laramis puffed out his cheeks. He rolled his shoulders and rocked his head side to side. “Zounds, it appears Lady Senalloy still has more work to do.”

“Huh?” Bannor responded looking over.

The Justicar rubbed at the side of his mouth. “The eyes of serpent were on us, my friend, of that you can be certain.”

Bannor’s eyes widened. “You knew?”

Laramis laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Come now, how long have we been friends? Sniffing out misdeeds is what I do! That ceremony,” he shook his head. “ ‘Twas a heavy helping of mischief at work there. I knew something was afoot when I saw the master of arms exchange your weapons at the last moment. I wanted to warn you but you had already stepped up. I was grateful my faith in your ability was warranted.”

He laughed. “I didn’t see a thing. It was all that training with Senalloy, I could tell when I picked up the blades. She warned me it was common jest played on new officers.”

“Zounds,” Laramis blew out his cheeks. “Bless her, I guess we must take our fortune where we find it. Still, we shall need to watch our backs.”

“Right.”

They turned a corner and Bannor opened the ironwood door for Laramis. He returned the salute of the two soldiers in the entry. Proceeding up the stairs beyond they stopped in the vestibule at the top. Bannor saluted the four guards standing watch in front of huge mithril-bound door. The giant valve was opened for them and Bannor stepped in the offices of the royal quartermaster.

Inside a dozen male and female elves went about the business of administrating the supplies of the Malanian military. An aide stepped up, saluted and led them to the inner offices.

Kul’praelor Alvaar worked in a giant office stuffed to overflowing with racks, shelves, and cabinets. Aside from the massive ironwood desk and filing armoire to one side, the whole room was dedicated to storing various weapons and other paraphernalia, most of which was magical in nature.

Inside, pale haired and pallid, the sagely appearing Kul’praelor was almost invisible behind a massive desk and a mountain of documents. The officer pushed the spectacles up on his nose, stood and gave a salute that Bannor returned.

“Ah, Kul’praelor,” Alvaar greeted. “Congratulations on your indoctrination and wedding. You have something for me, yes?”

“Yes,” Bannor responded, pulling first the dan-sword and sheath from his belt and then the caan-sword.

Alvaar accepted the dan first, pulled the blade, part way and looked at something on the tang. He raised an eyebrow. Closing the weapon, he put it aside. He took a sheet of parchment from among the thousands on his desk dipped a wax marker and made a seal. He took the caan-sword and did a similar examination and shook his head.

Bannor and Laramis exchanged glances. Bannor stepped forward. “Is there something wrong?” he asked the quartermaster.

“Eh?” Alvaar responded. He sighed. “Just foolishness, that’s all,” he said, moving to the racks to put the weapons away. “I trust you were not too seriously embarrassed by these games?”

Bannor tilted his head. “I wasn’t embarrassed at all. Though I should think you would repair that caan-sword before someone is injured or killed by it.”

Alvaar’s hand stopped part way to the rack and he looked back at them quizzically. He finished putting the dan away, and pulled the caan from its sheath. The way the elf worked the blade it was easy to tell that despite his cloistered appearance, he knew weapons.

The quartermaster frowned as he pushed the sword back into its sheath. “Ryah!” he yelled.

A female aide came rushing in. “Yes, Sir?”

He tossed the sheathed weapon to her. “Give that to Garamesh, make sure he knows that this was given to Lord Starfist during his commission ceremony.”

Brow furrowed, she looked at the weapon in her hand for a moment. “Yes, Sir,” she bobbed and ducked out.

Alvaar let out a breath. He went to another rack and pulled out a matched set of jeweled sheaths; the formal dan and caan swords worn for royal ceremonies. He handed them over one at a time as Bannor clipped them on his belt. “Not much I can say,” the elf said with a grimace. “I’d watch your back until things are sorted out.”

“Yes, thank you, Kul’praelor,” Bannor said.

Alvaar saluted and Bannor responded in kind.

“On the bright side,” Laramis remarked as they walked out and down the stairs. “At least not all of them are in on it.”

Bannor rubbed the back of his head. “That’s something I suppose.” All he needed to do was get through the day without a calamity. The rest of the mess could be resolved later.

With all the pre-ceremony details finally taken care of, Bannor and Laramis started making their way toward wedding site. Beneath the thick canopy of trees, he welcomed the shade and cooling breeze. He followed the winding path, mindful of possible ‘entanglements’. He waved back to numerous passersby that greeted him, smiling and trying to act relaxed. Of all the possible problems that might have faced him today, he had not expected it to come from the militia. He was friends with many of the regulars, and had, what he thought, was a good reputation among them. Sarai was almost universally respected and liked among the regiments because of her service record. He would have thought being favored by her would have accorded him some defense.

That did not seem to be the case however. That meant that this was likely coming from higher up, not from any dissent or umbrage directed at him from among the ranks. Unfortunately, there really wasn’t much he could do at this point but be prepared and try to sidestep any nastiness that came his way.

The two of them stopped briefly at a stall where he purchased a small bag of sweet-water from a wide-eyed elf matron who refused to accept payment. The dewy nectar soothed his throat as they climbed the winding path toward the glade of joining. Hundreds of spectators had already streamed into the trees, no doubt trying to catch a glimpse of the proceedings.

Several guards challenged them as they approached the private “back path” reserved for members of the wedding party. After verifying his identity and that of Laramis, a squad led them the rest of the way to the “noble’s alcove” near the glade. There in the cool seclusion of the rocks a veritable army of courtiers waited.

He and Laramis parted as they were led off to separate preparation areas. The half dozen maids and stewards drew him to a circle of carved boulders. He was urged to sit on a padded stone bench and given some water to drink. He closed his eyes, breathing the scent of the forest, listening the rustling of the leaves overhead.

The elf costumers moved around him whisper quiet. He did his best to relax and let them go about their business, moving how they directed and trying not to twitch too much as they fussed with his hair, skin, hands, and clothing. Stewards took last moment measurements, and adjusted the fit of his costumes. In addition to the courting raiment he was currently wearing, he had three changes during the ceremony, the vestments of nature, the oath robes, and the regalia of promising. He had been measured for all four, but had yet to try any on because some had not yet even been made. Fortunately, the vestments and robes were designed to go over the courting costume, so the final fitting was a simple process.

He heard a jingling come up behind him. “So, how are you, Brother-to-be?”

Bannor looked up and saw Ryelle dressed in the extensive layered gown of the first princess. Her translucent hair gleamed and shimmered as she moved in the shadows, a half dozen maids followed in her wake holding up the trailers and her cloak to prevent them from being soiled.

A steward placed a bench next to the chair where the maids were still working on him. The princess settled with her usual grace and smiled at him.

He nodded to her. “Rye, good morning. You look beautiful.”

The first princess dipped her head and smiled. “Thank you.”

“As to how I am—I’m fine, the morning has been very interesting.”

Lips pursed, she rubbed at the platinum braid around her throat. “Father told me you handled it well.”

“I managed not to make a scene. There were people prepared to do their worst in that crowd though.”

“Aye,” she returned with scowl. “If not for Lady Senalloy, they might have tried for you.”

“What does Sen have to do with it?”

“She scares them—as well she should. They’ve lost some very valuable operatives trying to get rid of her. With her only a few steps away, anything that didn’t end you right off would fail. You have a reputation for being notoriously hard to kill.”

He grimaced. “Something of a dubious honor.”

Ryelle leaned forward and touched his shoulder with a jeweled hand. “Well, I for one am glad of it,” she said with a serious expression. “If not we would have lost you many times over. Not just for Sarai’s sake, I have come to be rather fond of you. I quite enjoy our chats. I can speak openly of things with you that I cannot with my sisters.”

For some reason he found that surprising. He guessed with them both being Shael Dal there was no question of trust. That and she already knew he had no ambitions on the throne. His loyalty to Sarai was a given, so that probably made him safe in her eyes.

“I’m glad that I haven’t been too burdensome,” he said looking into amber eyes.

“A burden?” The princess shook her head. “It is true there have been trials, but our family is stronger for it. We have never been more close than we are now. Mother has always been fond of you.”

“She’s forever scolding me,” he grumbled.

“Brother-to-be, that’s just her way. It will change some after the wedding, it would not be so unexpected for her to favor her only son-in-law.”

He smiled. “I look forward to being favored.”

The princess grinned and looked at him with one eye closed. “One never knows. A mother that favors you might be more scary than one that constantly scolds.” She drew a breath. “Well, on to the business I am here to conduct. Mother wanted me to admonish you to focus entirely on the ceremony, and not allow our opponents to disrupt the proceedings.”

His brow furrowed. “Pardon?”

“There may be distractions. Things done to deliberately unsettle or startle you including something like a false emergency. You need do nothing other than perform your part of ceremony, trust that everything else is covered—I do mean everything. Mother and Father have many friends among the Shael Dal now, and a few casks of Dolandil centurion wine can win favors that whole armies cannot defeat.”

“Well, I dunno about a whole army…” A gruff voice said from the shadows on Bannor’s right.

One at a time, burly Tal Falor, blocky Algernon, and reedy T’Gor faded in as they jumped down of the rocks surrounding the preparation area. All three were dressed in fine silk party clothes but wearing outdoor hunting boots.

“Hey,” Bannor greeted. He started to get up and one of the girls working on him squeaked. Chastened, he leaned back again. “Apologies, sorry about not getting up.”

“We’re good,” Algernon said in a gravelly voice. He grinned. “All three of us have done that marrying thing—we know how it is.”

“Lords,” Ryelle said with a bow of her head. “We greet you.”

All three warriors dipped their heads in deference to the first princess.

“Lord D’Tarin, Lord D’Shar, how was it?”

Algernon rubbed the back of his neck. He looked to Bannor. “Well, it’s interesting…”

Tal thumped the shorter man on the shoulder. “What he means to say is we got ya covered. It ain’t no problem.”

“Lord Falor, there can be no shedding of elf blood,” Ryelle said with a frown. “Any punitive action of a serious nature must be carried out by Malanian assigns.”

Tal held up his hands. “Yeah, yeah, we understand.”

T’Gor’s deep voice made Bannor’s skin prickle. “We observed several operatives who are not on your father’s trusted list. We found evidence of quite a number more that we did not immediately locate.”

“We feared that would be the case,” Ryelle said, fingering her lower lip. “For now, report your findings to Lady Senalloy, she will assign Nightslash operatives to keep Our shy guests company. Gentlemen, We thank you for your time, please enjoy the rest of the ceremony.”

The three lords bowed, waved to Bannor and faded back into the shadows.

“As you see,” Ryelle said to him. “We are adequately prepared.”

“That’s quite some preparation,” Bannor said with wide eyes.

“It doesn’t hurt that you are well liked and a friend of Wren’s,” the princess said. “I have one other admonition. I know mother has already told you this, but it doesn’t hurt to remind you. Do not communicate with Sarai prior to the finishing of the aria, even with telepathy. Speak to her only with your eyes and heart. Understand?”

He sighed. “I understand.”

“It is a tradition, but regardless of our special abilities we should honor it. To use telepathy would be terribly tempting and with your shaladens nobody would know.” She leaned forward. “Except us in the family.”

“Yes, Arminwen,” he acknowledged.

“Once you have joined hands on the center stage, then you may converse as you can. It won’t be that long now.” She closed her eyes briefly then focused bright eyes on him and smiled. “I look forward to calling you ‘brother’.”

He smiled and nodded.

“Well, we both have our parts to play, let us at them. The artisans seem done with you.”

He glanced to maids who had stopped fussing with him. He rose and offered and a hand to Ryelle and eased her to a stand. She nodded to him and swept away, maids scrambling with her cloak and trailers.

Bannor drew a breath and adjusted the formal caan-sword and dan-sword sheaths, tying them down and loosening the weapons in their sheaths and making sure the peace strings were tied.

Two pale-haired maids came over and held up the embroidered ‘courting’ cloak with its white fur ruff and ruby clasps. He pulled it on and let them finish adjusting the set of the shoulders and brushing out the fabric.

His heart drummed fast in his chest. He saw the honor guard taking their place at the glade-side exit of the noble’s alcove.

He looked around. The six elf maids and stewards who had done the final preparations were standing in a line watching him. As with many of the staff serving the T’Evagdurans, they had done their work with efficient precision, hardly saying a word.

“Thank you,” he bowed to them.

There was light in their eyes as they all bowed back smiling.

He turned toward the opening in the trees and the light coming from the Glade of Joining. With another few breaths to gather his resolve, he pushed toward the light…

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Chapter Forty-One

A simple wedding? Impossible. My life
simply isn’t geared that way. A war with a
wedding attached—yes, that sounds about
how my fortunes run…
—Bannor Nalthane Starfist,
Prince Conjugal of Malan

The honor guard peeled away into the trees on either side as Bannor stepped up onto the rock overlooking the Glade of Joining. He hadn’t been in the sun for more than a heartbeat and he already felt hot. A single fading rainbow hung in the brilliant blue sky, the sun shining strong and radiant through a thin sheaf of wispy clouds. Magical shade casters hovered overhead like brilliantly colored soap bubbles, distorted images of the crowd below them swirling and dancing on their reflective surfaces. His gaze dropped, taking in the thousands of seated and standing guests. The three hundred pace wide area appeared nearly full. He blinked and looked again. It felt like his chest was trapped in a vice.

So many people.

He cringed as somewhere in the trees behind him horns began blasting out the strains of Greeting to Sunshine. His skin crawled as he felt what seemed like million eyes focusing on him. He heard breaths being drawn, men muttering and ladies tittering and sighing. The saliva in his mouth felt like it turned to mud. It was as if the reaper’s bony hand had clutched his throat. He closed his eyes and turned his face toward the sun. He focused on the rise and fall of the instruments. There were a few instants to gather his composure and not muck up the opening recitation.

Pressing his hands together, he drew a long breath, pushing all of his nervous energy down into the pit of his stomach. He pulled his hands to his sides and exhaled, letting the mind poison drift away on the wind.

He opened his eyes and looked through the crowd to the empty stone stage on the far side of the glade. He reached a hand out toward the memory of his love. He focused on the old Dykreeni dialect, letting the phrasing and intonation bubble up through his consciousness.

From deep in his chest he projected the words with all his strength. “Uhn berah tu’ravad ishand e cajar! (From deep in my heart she calls)” He dropped to his knees and called out across the distance. He focused on the words letting them flow out of him. “The clouds are my mind and the wind my breath. The longing grips me and my blood burns like storm fire!”

The word ‘fire’ echoed across the glade making the ground quiver and the stone cliff face resonate. The crowd had gone quiet, their attention focused by the performance magicks magnifying the sound of his voice.

Horns and pipes resonated from different parts of the forest around the clearing. While they played the bridging music he gathered his strength for the next stanza. Laramis had moved out of the trees and now stood at the base of rock.

As the pipes trailed off, he pushed to stand and swirled his cloak left and right. “Her vision runs elusive, my requests for audience resonating through hill and dale. From the ocean’s side to the river head, on the mountain’s peak and the far deep chasm, my calls go out. Oh maiden, oh heart, where should I seek thee?” He vaulted off the rock, doing a spinning flip before landing with a flourish.

His heart was pounding, but he felt good. He hadn’t botched the poem yet. The crowd was murmuring. He had thrown in the acrobatic maneuver figuring all that time practicing with Vera shouldn’t go to waste.

The pipes in the trees picked up again and were joined by drums and chimes. As the bridging music played he caught his breath. He glanced back at Laramis. The justicar grinned and nodded.

The music faded and he turned, flourishing the cloak, and continued into the next stanza. Arabella had spent many bells coaching him. The bard had explained that the whole ceremony was a performance no different than any stage play. In fact, she had added, since this particular wedding was being recorded, an extra special production was merited.

He paced back and forth on his side of the clearing, the ‘prince-to-be’ musing and conferring with his second. During this part, Laramis had lines as the suitor and his second played off each other, speculating and reminiscing as they sought the cloistered princess. Laramis was a natural actor, and already a practiced public speaker. For someone who spoke only broken elvish, he had rehearsed until every line sounded clear and natural, his strong voice needing little enhancement to carry across the crowd.

The last strains of the concluding bridge faded out and bells started ringing from behind the stone stage. Bannor drew a breath, taking the opportunity to gather his energy. He had rehearsed this performance of course, but it took so much more energy to do it front of such a huge crowd.

The audience murmured as, harps in hand, Ryelle and Janai swayed out onto the stage, taking seats at opposite sides of the main platform. The bells faded and the two princesses strummed in the refrains of the entrance melody.

Bannor held his breath waiting to catch a glimpse of Sarai. He wished he was standing closer—a lot closer. They had to walk the edges of the glade before he would be close enough to really see her face. He guessed that was part of the ceremony—the anticipation not only for the audience but for the bride and groom as well.

The King, now dressed in the flowing robes of state, ascended the stone steps rising into view with stately grace. He stood at the top step and took the Queen’s hand as she climbed to the stage.

Arm in arm, they made a circuit of the platform bowing to the audience. As they looped back toward the stairs they paused at the steps.

His heart jumped as bells played and horns sounded. Janai and Ryelle played as a shadowy figure ascended the steps. Slowly rising into view was a white clad figure, silvery hair and gossamer trails fluttering in the breeze.

He couldn’t make out any details but he could tell she was beautiful. His skin prickled as the King and Queen each took a hand a led her out and down the center wing that extended out from the main stage.

Even twenty paces closer didn’t reveal much more, but his heart pounded anyway. They had come so far. They had performed on the stage of life, and were now performing for friends, family and kingdom to celebrate the unbreakable bonds that now tied them together.

Bannor waited to hear her voice, ears straining against the murmuring of the crowd.

“Breath caught and heart stumbling, I have heard the call of my One!” Sarai pronounced in the formal Dykreen to her mother. She did a slow turn and faced her father. “Long am I sheltered by your love, let me seek that which is part of me!”

The King and Queen bowed their heads and retreated to the main platform to sit on the thrones prepared there. Now was Sarai’s time to perform as the hidden princess sought a means to be rejoined with her suitor. Much like his soliloquy there was some musing and fanciful metaphor. Ryelle performed with her in much the same fashion as Laramis had with him as the princess sought clues of where to search.

Janai rose from her seat and began plucking at her harp, chirping bits of lyrics in different elvish dialects. As she drew closer to the seeking princess, the words grew louder and stronger lauding the lost lover in search of his princess by river of dawning.

The princess leans toward the singing bard harkening to the words, and rushing out toward the audience in realization.

Six maids in waiting, dressed flowing blue crossed the stage and escorted Sarai down to the field level to carry the trailers of her cloak and gown. Horns played and bells chimed.

Face to the sky Sarai called out in the high elven speech. “Oh seeker, now you are being sought, please let these words find your hearing…”

Now began the ‘coming closer’. The suitor’s second brings word to his master that cloistered princess has heard the call, and that she now comes to join him. He started the long walk around the glade that would bring him to the stage. Bannor tried not to look directly into the crowd, he was certain if he did he would freeze. Even with his gaze fixed a little over the heads of audience he picked up some detail. Noble elves dressed in their finest silks and satins, a scattering of humans and dwarves equally well attired. He saw none of his friends, but that was to be expected as most would be up front near the stage.

Sarai had moved out of sight behind the masses of people. Where they started the wedding, the suitor’s rock and the stage, those areas stood some five paces above the middle of the field. Now, the only way he could really tell her position was from the magnified sound of her voice as she recited the next line from her part. In the ‘coming closer’ their words now represented letters that the lovers exchanged as they traveled toward the holy mount where their joining would be blessed.

Though he was focused on the performance, Bannor felt eyes on him from the trees. He tried not to let it distract him, trusting in the power of his friends. Sarai would deliver her part and he gave the answering part.

Despite Janai’s ointments, he felt perspiration beading on his skin. He concentrated hard, pushing through the growing sense of menace that he felt on his right among the trees. Laramis obviously sensed it as well. The justicar’s hand was already on the hilt of the dress sword on his side with the peace strings released. He stepped so as to act as shield between Bannor and the trees.

Did the opponents of the T’Evagdurans see him as that much of a threat that they would openly attack him here in front of so many? Did it really have anything to do with him at all? Was it merely that he was not an elf?

By the time he had reached the half way point around the circle, his shoulders felt like knots from the tension. He could focus on his task but it was impossible to relax not knowing what would happen.

At this point, Sarai would be doubling back toward the stage where they would eventually climb up to the runways that extended out to the right and left. Then they would go into the aria.

Singing. Lords, who ever would have thought he would sing—much less in front of this huge mass of onlookers?

Even over the noise of the crowd and the rustle of the trees he heard the out of place metallic clicks. He couldn’t help but tense and brace to move. Instants later, he heard the unmistakable thrum of crossbows.

Laramis, no less alert than him, had his sword pulled half sheath when several bolts clanked and rasped as they hit an invisible obstruction some ten paces away.

There was scuffle down in the trees that abruptly went quiet.

The menace he had been feeling was gone.

He heard Laramis sigh and push the sword back. He had only that one instant to recover before raising his voice to deliver the next stanza of the poem.

No further problems intruded on his consciousness as he finally reached the stage wing. To release the pent up energy jagging through his body he leaped up caught the edge and flipped to his feet in the middle of the runway. He did a flourish with the cloak to finish the move and make it look like part of the ceremony.

This caused a ripple of murmuring through the audience. On this side he saw faces he recognized among those seated in the first five rows, members of the Felspar family, and some of his new friends among the Shael Dal.

Laramis came up the stairs wearing a sheepish grin. Bannor felt a cold shiver and looked toward the Queen. She was smiling, but her eyes were narrowed in a glare. The King seemed amused, as did Ryelle and Janai.

His gaze went to the opposite wing as Sarai rose into view. His heart seemed to stop in his chest.

From a distance, Sarai’s gown had looked white but he realized it was actually a pale blue. White jewels sewn into cloth seemed to diffuse the sun’s light making a subtle glow shine through the various layers of the cloth. The reflections made her skin and hair look as though highlighted in gold. She was still too far away to make out her face clearly, but he could see considerable time had been spent on her hair adding jewels, braiding, and ribbon.

His wife-to-be stood on the stage, not moving, face turned toward him. He could tell she was studying him the same way he was looking at her. As he paused here, he thought of all the other couples who had done just as they were doing. Gazes locked across the distance, close enough to see, but too far to do more than imagine each other’s emotions.

The maids that had followed Sarai down onto the field filed up the steps and took positions equally spaced up the run way toward the main stage. When the ladies had taken their positions, Sarai dipped her head and pressed her hands together.

As Bannor knew, singing came no more naturally to her than it did to him. Just the same, he found her voice to be as attractive as the rest of her. Arabella had coached him to the point he didn’t sound like an embarrassment. The lady bard told him he had a good voice that would perform well given the right song. Sarai even said she liked his singing. He knew she was saying that to encourage him.

Sarai drew a breath and raised her head. Her voice clear and powerful. “Far, far away heart…” As Sarai sang, she moved down the runway toward the center platform, drawing the maids in behind her.

He closed his eyes listening to words, nodding as the strings and drums from behind the stage joined in. Hearing her voice made Bannor tingle inside. No matter what he had been through, this beautiful, strong, talented lady was worth every bit of it and more.

Her song ended, and the drums pounded into the groom’s part. He opened his eyes, finding his love a little closer, a little clearer, standing on the far side of the central dais. He drew a breath and threw himself into his part. “Hearing… Dreaming… Longing draws me down the road…”

As he sang, his words echoing out over the audience he watched Sarai. As he had done when she was singing, she had her eyes closed. She was swaying slightly in time to the rhythm.

Moving up the runway toward the main stage, he sang for her, doing his best to make her feel it through the song. When it came to a close he was breathing hard and needed to catch his breath. A murmuring went through the audience and some even clapped.

They stood only thirty paces apart now. They were only one song from finally being together. The King and Queen were smiling. Janai was grinning and Ryelle was applauding discretely.

The music changed and picked up tempo. Sarai moved side to side and sang. “My prince you’re with me in spirit wherever I go. To the ends of the Eternity and all points high and low. Each night I wonder where you are, the unsettled wayward spirit. Ageless and timeless with ancient blood. Oh love, come to me and don’t lead me on…”

Rocking side to side he moved across the stage toward her singing the counter point. At the same time, Sarai started toward him. “Arminwen, you’re my inspiration, my foundation of strength. Love is my leader and binds me in my search for the truth. And yes it’s that truth that has me rushing out, I’m a fool and it’s honestly clear. I need to see your beautiful and luminous eyes. Princess, I need you as much as you think you need me. Come to the wood tonight and well fly to your dreams. And we’ll…”

Now only ten paces apart they sang together. “Sing for the day, Sing for the moment. Come for a bell, stay for a moment. Stay for the rest of your life…!”

They met at the middle of the stage, not quite touching, circling as they performed for each other and the audience. Seeing his love up close made the waiting and worrying worth it. Powders, jewels, and glamour made his already attractive princess into an exquisite sight that made his throat tight to see. Happiness made her glow as much as the sun and jewels.

He struggled to sing properly, he knew he was grinning like an idiot just reveling in being with her, being close enough to touch, close enough to look into her violet eyes and see her smile.

The song drew to a close and they joined hands. Through her thin lace gloves, he felt the warmth of her skin and felt her trembling. They pulled close as the audience applauded.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” she responded.

They turned and bowed to the King and Queen. Jhaan and his wife were applauding too, and Kalindinai looked pleased. He guessed the performance had been adequate so far. They turned back to the audience and bowed again.

He sighed. All he had to do was get through the next part. The rest required no talent, just a few memorized words that he and Sarai had rehearsed until he had been hearing the ceremony in his sleep.

The King and Queen must have wanted to give them a slight breather because the music for the maiden’s dance did not immediately start. Hands joined they stood looking out into the crowd. She squeezed his hand so tight it hurt.

Sarai leaned close. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

He leaned down so she could hear. “Fine,” he answered. With Sarai at his side, he could bear actually looking into the crowd searching for faces that they knew. The Kergatha family was easy to spot with Idun’s glowing gold hair acting like a beacon. Vanidaar, Euriel, Azir, and Idun were smiling up at them. Wren was not with them, she along with Gaea and others who were part of the ceremony would be watching from the raised galleries behind the stage. As the Queen promised, Bronawyn and her husband Caldorian had seats down in front. Mercedes, Octavia, and Wysteri the three healers sat together with them. He spotted Marna, Dominique, Dulcere, and Corim sitting together in another row.

There were so many people clothed in such bright colors that faces—even gold ones—were difficult to find. There looked to be at least a hundred in the first row alone, the rows getting wider as they got further from the stage, by the tenth row there were at least two hundred seats. With more than thirty rows plus pavilions and other seating, he didn’t really want to think about how many were really out there.

“Damn there’s a lot of people,” he whispered out the side of his mouth.

“A lot more than I expected,” Sarai returned, keeping a smile on her face.

Behind them the music started playing. The half a breath respite was over and Janai and Ryelle rose from their seats. He approached Janai while Sarai went to Ryelle.

Janai held out a set of jeweled pipes to him. These were far more elaborate than the ones that he had been practicing with up until now, and from the feel possessed strong magic as well. His sister-to-be leaned in close and touched his shoulder. “You’re doing great!” she encouraged.

He nodded in response and turned to face Sarai. Ryelle was stepping in to release the trailer on Sarai’s gown so she could do the maiden’s dance. When the eldest princess nodded to him he closed his eyes, drew a breath and raised the pipes to his lips. He tapped a beat and blew the opening note.

The sound startled him and made him flinch. It was far louder than he expected. The tune he was about to play fled from his mind. Startled, he stood there in front of that giant crowd like a salted fish, his brain emptied of thought.

Sarai thudded a hard heel on the wooden planking and clapped her gloved hands. He met her gaze.

<Play!> she thought to him so loud it made him jerk again.

That snapped him back to reality and he started again, keeping his gaze on his wife-to-be. The music of the pipes made the stage and the rock behind tremble, the sound easily able to reach outside the glade. Once into the tune it was far easier, he played for Sarai and she danced for him, bouncing, turning and pirouetting. As he played, he swayed and moved in a slow rhythm. He once played for the royal ladies of his family-to-be. This time it was all for Sarai. He summoned up everything she meant to him and played for her.

Lost in the rise and fall of the melody, the song ended after what seemed a very short time. Sarai kneeled on the stage breathing hard looking out at the audience that was clapping and cheering.

He stepped forward and helped her up. Grinning, she slammed a power hug on him, and thumped his back. “Nice!” She laughed.

Together they bowed again. It struck him again how different this ceremony was from a commoner’s wedding which was simply a celebration of the union of two people. Here they were performing to entertain, to gain the approval and acceptance of the nobility who represented the most powerful and influential of their subjects. He guessed something had to be offered when you asked people who didn’t know you personally to follow your decisions.

He had worked and fought with King Jhaan and Queen Kalindinai. Both were honorable and fair-minded leaders who demonstrated strength, bravery, and the ability think tactically and strategically in the most adverse situations. He would follow either one into battle without a moment’s hesitation—in fact he had done exactly that several times. Now, the King and Queen wanted their subjects to accept him the same way they accepted them.

A half-dozen crossbow bolts fired at him had showed what some of the noble families thought of that. The thought of it made him sigh. There would always be some like Bertrand, the Queen’s brother, who would irrationally hate those different than themselves. The biggest irony was that he wasn’t human. Would the fact that he was a savant turned ascendant make it worse or better?

He doubted that possibility would be broached. His true nature would probably just create a different group of haters. Even if he were an elf, there would be resistance. Either he would be not noble enough, as Queen Kalindinai had weathered, or he would be a part of or allied with the wrong family. Sarai had convinced him to not let it bother him. No matter who or what he was, someone would hate and or be jealous of him.

They turned and hand-in-hand proceeded to the stairs that would lead them to the next part of the ceremony. The King and Queen met them, Jhaan taking Sarai’s hand and Kalindinai taking his and leading them up the stairs to the next tier.

Kalindinai leaned close, giving his arm a firm hug. The Queen didn’t say anything, but her body language said she felt things were going well.

Laramis and the two princesses followed them up to the next tier.

They were separated to stand several paces apart. The King stepped up on a raised dais between them. The Queen took up a position with Ryelle beside Sarai while Laramis and Janai stood with him as his seconds.

“Seekers,” King T’Evagduran intoned. “Part of noble marriage is the defense of blood; husband for wife and wife for husband. The mates must be willing to confront hardship for the sake of each other.”

Bannor glanced at Sarai and Sarai looked over at him at the same time. If there was one test they had passed, it was this one.

The King looked at Sarai. “Bride.” He looked to Bannor. “Groom.” He held his hands out toward both of them. “Your weapons.”

He unclipped the swords from his belt. Laramis took the Caan-sword and Janai the dan. His jaw dropped as Sarai produced a sword and dagger from the depths of her gown. He blinked. They weren’t full-sized, but more than enough for defense. Leave it to the thoroughness and inventiveness of elves to find a way to arm a bride dressed in a wedding gown without it even being visible!

The King looked between them. “Sarai T’Evagduran are you ready to seal your blood oath with Bannor Starfist?”

Sarai’s eyes were on him. “I am.”

“Bannor Starfist are you ready to seal your blood oath with Sarai T’Evagduran?”

He smiled. He felt a catch in his chest. “I am.”

“So be it,” the King said. “Let the maiden of swords come forth.”

From behind the stage drums thumped. In a few moments the audience began stirring and murmuring. Carrying a metallic case in her outstretched hands, Wren came up the steps into view in all her ascendant glory. The elven artisans had enhanced the Kel’varan’s already impressive appearance. Her golden hair stretched all the way to the floor, the strands dancing and twitching with elemental energy. She wore nothing more than a jeweled silver Malanian war-web over one of the black Kriar body-suits. The skin-close fit and color contrasts highlighting her already impressive physique.

People continued to murmur as she swayed across the stage toward the King’s podium.

Wren stopped at the King’s shoulder, glowing blue eyes smoldering with magical power. She smiled and tilted her head, nodding first to Bannor and then to Sarai. The crackling aura around her cast shadows on the dais and made the air hiss and dance. Shortly after Sarai chose to include Wren in the ceremony, Kalindinai decided to change her role. With the nobility continuing to cause trouble, the Queen had decided to use Wren to send a message. Today, the ascendant stood on the stage as much to intimidate as she did to impress and entertain. While most would assume the glow was merely an illusion, those with true magical power would know that display was not trickery. Wren represented real power, a strength that backed the King and supported this union.

“Maiden of swords,” the King said. “Are you ready?”

The blonde ascendant sighed. When she spoke it was the full resonant power of an immortal that could easily be heard throughout the glade. “I am prepared.”

Bannor felt the unease and fascination tremble through the audience. From Wren’s expression she was enjoying performing her role.

“Please proceed,” T’Evagduran requested.

Wren nodded and stepped forward off the dais into the space between Bannor and Sarai. She tossed the case into the air which exploded with a thunderous rush that made the audience jump. Two jeweled swords dropped out of the dissipating fireball into her hands.

She spun the blades and dropped a battle stance, tongues of lightning and flames dancing around the edges of the weapons. With a thunderous stomp that shook the stage she whirled into a combat dance the edges of the weapons trailing smoke and sparks.

The Queen, princesses, and Laramis all backed up several steps as Wren whirled into motion. She performed a sword ballet with amazing speed and skill. Bannor’s heart picked up tempo even though he knew what was coming. The ascendant was moving with a speed and power that would crush boulders and sever thick metal. He gritted his teeth as she circled Sarai blades passing within hairs of arms and legs. His wife-to-be held still. Several times the audience gasped as the G’Yakki trained woman performed acrobatic maneuvers, her blade passing perilously close to Sarai’s head and chest. After a long few moments, she whirled toward him. He swallowed and steeled himself. Despite however much he trusted the woman’s skill, it was tough not to flinch when a blade came hissing around so fast it appeared as nothing but a blur.

<She looks like she’s—> Bannor thought to Sarai. He flinched as Wren’s weapon flicked past his nose at hurricane speed. <Enjoying this.>

<A little too much,> Sarai responded. <It is what mother asked for—impressive and scary.>

Wren thudded to a stop, blades crossed in front of her. She stared out into the audience, then turned to look at Sarai. She surveyed the princess with burning eyes for a moment before swinging her gaze to him.

“Bravery,” Wren rumbled in that voice that made the skin prickle. “It is more than taking your own life in hand. It is also having faith in your mate and their ability to guard their own life and yours.”

Wren spun one weapon and loomed over Sarai. “Maiden Sarai, are you ready to take up sword and oath to defend your One?”

Sarai raised her chin. “Yes.”

The ascendant knelt and held out a sword to Sarai that she took.

Wren turned to him, repeating the maneuver. “Master Bannor, are you ready to take up sword and oath to defend your One?”

“Yes,” he responded.

Wren held out the sword and he took it.

The ascendant stepped back to the space between them. “Maiden—Master—draw your blood so it can be mingled.”

The oath swords possessed phenomenal edges. It took barely a touch to open a cut on his palm. Sarai did the same.

“Join hands,” Wren directed.

They laced the fingers of their cut hands, pressing wound to wound.

Bannor stared into his love’s eyes, feeling her strength, feeling her determination.

“Repeat after me,” Wren said, taking their gripped hand in both of hers. “With this blood, I am bound.”

“With this blood, I am bound,” he repeated.

“With this blood, I am bound,” Sarai said with him.

“To cherish, honor, and defend my One for all my days.”

They both repeated the words.

A glow radiated from Wren making a tingling go through his arms. “So it was said, so it is witnessed. Rejoice and defend each other well!” Wren took her hands off theirs turned and held up their uninjured hands.

The audience applauded.

Wren bowed. She kissed each of them on the cheek. “That was fun,” she whispered. She nodded to the Queen and princesses, then turned and bowed to the King who returned the gesture.

With a toss of her glowing hair, Wren exited the way she came, the audience still murmuring in appreciation of her presentation.

With the blood rite completed, the King and Queen led them to the next stage. Hand-in-hand they topped the stairs and stepped onto the Tier of Solstices. Here they would don the vestments of nature and undergo the seasons ceremony.

The King and Queen went to thrones on either side of the stairs leading to Tier of Kindred. Laramis stood at the King’s side, while the two princesses took positions on either side of their mother.

A swarm of maids and stewards rushed in from the wings, taking away the oath swords, adjusting their clothing and helping them shoulder the heavy moss “vestments of nature”. As they prepared, grove-master Celerus, and her two seconds came down from the upper stage and stopped on the third stair.

The grove-master was a tall russet-haired lady elf with a greenish skin. With a rainbow of flowers woven into her hair and clothed in nothing but strands of colored beads, she had the exotic appearance one came to expect from wood priests. Her two male seconds dressed far more conservatively, in laminated bark-weave cuirasses embossed with unicorn sigil of the forest militia.

Dressed and prepared Bannor and Sarai joined hands and stepped forward to the feet of the priestess.

Celerus bowed to them and then raised her hands. “The ancient circle bids greeting on this auspicious day,” she said in dark syrupy voice. “Today the family of T’Evagduran grows by one. Will the petitioners accept the canon of the green alliance and guard the Wood Ways?”

“We will,” Bannor said together with Sarai.

The priestess raised her chin. “The land fosters us, nourishes us, and helps us grow strong and wise. It is the duty of all who partake of nature’s bounty to keep and protect our lands. Are you prepared to enter into this covenant?”

“We are,” they intoned together.

The priestess nodded and turned to the assistant on her right, and received two large thumb-sized red objects. “Petitioners, eat of the land.” She stepped forward.

Sarai sighed and opened her mouth. The priestess placed the object on Sarai’s tongue, Bannor realized it was a large berry of some kind. Sarai closed her mouth and began to chew. The priestess turned to him and he followed Sarai’s example. Celerus placed the heavy fruit on his tongue. He bit into it cautiously, not knowing what to expect.

Fortunately, the tart sweet fruit with the coppery aftertaste was not objectionable. After a few moments, he recognized the flavor—blood berry. He swayed a little and put a hand out to steady Sarai as the powerful juice took effect. Blinking through slightly blurry eyes, he watched the priestess turn to her other aide and take two metal vials from him. She handed one of each them. “Drink of the land.”

Sarai unstopped hers and drank it down without hesitation. After the berry, he hesitated a moment before complying. The liquid had the crystalline metallic taste of water from the high mountains. He sighed, finding the cool liquid more than welcome in his dry throat.

“Now accept these tokens as signs of the oath you will now take.” She turned to one of her aides who handed her a large intricate white blossom. This she pinned in Sarai’s hair. For him, she placed a braided circlet of blue titan’s reed over his brow.

Celerus raised her hands. “Now, repeat after me. Accepting these bounties and this token I enter into this pact of my own free will…”

Together they recited the words.

“…to accept the Wood Way, defend the holy precincts, and honor the traditions and customs of the green alliance to the end of my days.”

They finished.

Celerus nodded. She brushed back her russet hair and smiled. Her dark eyes gleamed. “Now, by the power vested in me by the High Circle, I bless this union. May you live prosperous, bountiful lives in harmony and contentment.” She clapped her hands and a shower of gold glamour rained down over them, the motes making their skin, clothing, and hair give off a silvery glow.

The King and Queen rose from their seats as the priestess bowed to them and the audience. The spectators murmured and applauded as she and her assistants filed out.

Now came the Tier of Kindred where he would ask the King and Queen for their blessing. In turn, Sarai would ask his parents for the same boon. For symmetry in the ceremony, Gaea and Wren’s father Vanidaar would be his surrogate parents. He looked beyond to the highest stage and the pool of purification. They were almost done. Moons of planning, studying, and rehearsing would finally have been culminated. He was already through the hard part and he doubted the enemies of the T’Evagdurans would try anything now. He just needed to relax and avoid doing anything embarrassing.

They climbed the stairs and at the summit stepped up onto a raised platform in the center of the stage. Maids and stewards swarmed in from the wings, switching, removing the vestments of nature and making adjustments to their clothing. As they were being prepared the King and Queen, Ryelle and Janai were taking position on one side of the stage. Laramis remained at the last step as guardian.

Bannor saw some activity on the other side which would likely be Gaea and Vanidaar coming down from the gallery hidden in the rocks up on their right. Here on the second highest platform, the sheltered area where the wedding performers waited was just visible. Except for the earliest part of the ceremony, they really were the best seats to watch from. Closed off from direct sunlight and cooled by the spring water running down into the pool of purification. Knowing elf crafting and the significance of the ceremony, the seating would be exquisite. He could do with a comfortable chair right now…

He looked to Sarai and squeezed her hand. She met his eyes and smiled. His throat tightened, it felt like his heart stopped. Damn, she was beautiful.

Movement and a flash of green drew his attention to the steps leading down. Five maids escorted mother Gaea as she came gliding down the steps, her floor length space-black hair shining with stars. She wore a translucent smoke-gray gown with a violet bodice and white jewel highlights. With such a marvelous canvas to work with, the elf artistes had made the goddess truly stunning in aspect.

When it was suggested that Gaea come out for him, he had wondered how that would be accepted. Kalindinai had explained that green skin was not that unusual in elves with dryad and naiad blood. Ironic that someone with green skin was more easily accepted than a human.

The audience murmured as Gaea made her way across the stage. She looked huge compared to the tiny elf girls surrounding her. The people at the back of the glade were able to view what the front ranks were seeing because of the magicks that projected images from the stages onto the shade bubbles that hovered over the clearing.

<Impressive,> Sarai said in Bannor’s mind smiling. <Could it be your mother is trying to outshine mine, hmmm?>

He rolled his eyes. <She does like being looked at.>

Gaea tossed her hair and stopped opposite Kalindinai on the right half of the stage. She smiled at him and then Sarai.

Where was Vanidaar? He had only an instant to form that thought when he saw more figures coming down from the gallery. Strange, there seemed to be more than one.

He saw Sarai’s puzzled expression, so she obviously didn’t know what was going on. There were at least four coming down, but the shadows obscured who they were. Perhaps the rest of the Kergathas were coming out to show support.

The first to step into the light from the wings was Vanidaar Kergatha, dressed in his black and silver court robes as the Baron of Cosmodarus. The powerful ascendant had altered his shape, choosing to simply appear as the Cosmodarian Lord and long-time friend of the T’Evagdurans.

Bannor’s brow furrowed as an unfamiliar face appeared at the bottom of the stairs. She was a dark-haired woman of medium height, leading a young blonde girl of about four or five summers. She wore the deep-blue gown and shawl of noble-woman, but moved hesitantly as though unused to it. The child with her was staring around like a wide-eyed fawn.

Another dark-haired lady, also dressed in blue, followed the first. She appeared taller and thinner with a hint of gray frosting her hair around the temples. She looked nervous and fussed with her clothing as she walked. Though like the first lady, she was wearing a gown and shawl, her sun-browned skin and seamed features instantly identified her as someone long familiar with outdoor toil. The woman’s eyes focused on him, and he realized her face was red like she had recently been crying.

Gaea stepped back and drew the lady into the position where she had been standing opposite Kalindinai. The all-mother whispered something in the lady’s ear and it seemed to calm her. She swallowed and straightened. Gaea looked over the woman at him with an arch expression and smiled.

Bannor felt an icy chill go through him. A shock that made his whole body tremble. He blinked and looked again as doubt receded and certainty set in.

A look toward Kalindinai and the self-satisfied expression on her face confirmed it.

Face growing hot, he focused back on the two ladies with Gaea. “Mother?” It was hard to imagine his hard-working mother dressed in fine silk, her face powdered and hair up. Her calloused farmer’s hands scrubbed clean, the nails meticulously manicured and painted. He never imagined his mother like this. She was beautiful. He swallowed as another realization made his stomach twist. “Mother if you’re here then…”

He looked back to the stairs, as a sandy-haired, thick-bodied man stepped off the stairs. Like his mother and Ravan, this guest was dressed in the finery of a noble. The man’s broad face, and stiff bearing showed his discomfort. The same man who had said in Bannor’s hearing said that he would sooner eat a boot than wear silk like an effeminate dandy. Yet here he was, embarrassed, uncomfortable, and out-of-place.

Vanidaar put a hand behind Khendar Starfist’s back and urged him forward.

Sarai squeezed his hand and sent him a private thought. <Is that your real parents?>

Feeling dazed he nodded.

Laramis stepped up and put a hand on Bannor’s shoulder. “Zounds, is that your real dam and sire?”

Bannor looked back at his friend and nodded.

“This is a bit unexpected,” the Justicar said.

He was sure right about that. Sarai leaned out and looked toward her mother. The Queen raised her chin.

<Carellion,> she thought to him. <She didn’t breathe a word to me!>

He didn’t know how to feel. He lost a great deal of respect for his mother the day he left home, but never for an instant lost his love for her. Ravan… he simply hadn’t possessed the courage to scour Drenin-town to find her. She had a child now. He was an uncle.

Urged by Vanidaar, Khendar Starfist stopped by his wife, looking across the stage toward proud King Jhaan.

If there was anywhere in the universe Bannor’s Father would have last expected to be, it would be standing on a stage looking eye to eye with the King of one of the most powerful nations on Titaan. It must have come as a double surprise, because throughout Bannor’s childhood, his father admonished him not to be disappointed if he never amounted to anything. His becoming a ranger captain for the Baron of Tenax far exceeded the grandest of his father expectations. To exceed that and become a prince… he couldn’t imagine what his father might be thinking now. What had Gaea or Kalindinai done to make him trek two hundred leagues from southern Tenax? He never would have come on his own.

Gaea was staring at Khendar. His father was trying not to look her direction. Bannor knew how daunting Gaea could be even for someone used to being around her incredible power. He noticed Kalindinai was also looking toward him.

Both of them must have ganged up on him. Bannor remembered back to the meeting when Vera had accepted back her honor. Gaea had told Kalindinai that she had found something for her. The two of them had been planning this all along.

Gaea was a goddess, and Kalindinai was a Queen of Malan and a Shael Dal. Odin himself couldn’t have resisted those two. Bannor couldn’t conjure a mental image of what that meeting must have been like. The fiercest thing his father had ever faced were a few forest orcs. To be confronted by those two…

Sarai squeezed his hand. <Now, I’m nervous.>

Startled out of his thoughts, he stared at her. <Nervous? Why?>

<Why? What if they don’t accept me? They don’t have to you know.>

He blinked at her. The thought was so preposterous. <Star, that’s crazy. We have more to worry from your parents changing their minds and deciding I’m just not worth the trouble.>

<Your father looks really—unhappy.>

Served him right, damn him. Fitting that just by coming here he had been forced to eat every negative word he ever uttered about Bannor’s lack of a future. He even told him to set his expectations low and not get too hopeful about a wife. He glanced at his wife-to-be. Yvelle, the prettiest girl in Drenin-town, the one that father bragged Ramm would marry some day—was a dim light compared to Sarai.

Yes, his father would have been reassessing a lot of things recently. Kalindinai was far too thoughtful to just throw his family into this. They had probably been in Malan for a few days. It begged another question. What and how much had they told his family about him?

He drew a breath, he couldn’t think about that now. He needed to focus, he needed to keep his mind and heart on the goal. He didn’t know the details of what had brought his father here, but here he was. This ceremony was a celebration. His decade old bitterness had no place here. Just seeing his proud father’s intimidated expression made it hard to hate the man or even be angry with him. In fact, he actually had to admire him for having the courage to stand on that stage.

Vanidaar leaned in and said something to Khendar. Bannor’s father composed himself and managed to force an almost-smile.

<Your mother and Gaea have probably been dancing on my Father’s head. That would make anyone unhappy. Don’t worry, they’ll accept you.>

<Bannnor…> she growled. <I don’t know anything about them… you never talked about them—didn’t want to.>

He squeezed her hand. <Star, you have a shaladen, remember—anything you want to know is a thought away.>

Sarai sighed, she was still smiling but it was forced. She nodded.

Though the tableau had seemed long, barely a long breath had actually passed. The last of the maids and stewards were just leaving the stage.

He drew a breath and collected himself. He glanced back to his mother and sister struggling to keep a brave faces in this massive production. He wanted to go to them and apologize for all this. It wasn’t that much longer now, he could make it up to them afterward.

<Here we go,> Sarai said tugging on his hand.

They moved together toward the King and Queen. At their feet, Bannor dropped to one knee and bowed his head.

Sarai put a hand on his back. “Mother and Father, I present to you Bannor Nalthane Starfist of Ivaneth, first captain of the Tenax rangers, and newly appointed Kul’praelor of the Nightslash Elite. I beg you hear his petition.”

The King paused. It seemed to be forever. He could feel the elf Lord’s eyes drilling into his back. Bannor knew it was irrational but for a wild moment he imagined Jhaan turning him away—going through the whole giant exhibition to this point simply to make the embarrassment as monumental as possible.

The silence went on for bells it seemed. Finally the King spoke. “Daughter, we will hear this petition.”

Bannor let out a breath. His heart was beating fast and his palms felt clammy. That had scared him—worse even than his confrontation with Garfang.

He composed himself, raised his head and met the eyes of his future parents. “Dom’Ista—Matradomma, I come to you humbled and enthralled. Your daughter Sarai has taken my heart and made it hers. I earnestly and abjectly request your permission to take the life-oath with your daughter.”

The Queen took the hand of her husband. She smiled down at him and placed her other hand on Bannor’s head. “Petitioner Bannor, We feel the love you have for Our daughter and it pleases Us. You have Our permission.”

The King glanced at his wife, then to his daughter. He smiled and placed a hand on Bannor’s head on top of his wife’s. “Petitioner Bannor,” he said in his ringing voice. “We feel your resolve, your strength, and your desire to protect Our daughter and it pleases Us. You have Our permission.”

They took their hands away.

“Betrothed of Our daughter, please rise,” Kalindinai said.

He stood. His heart was still beating fast, he didn’t know why. He looked into Kalindinai’s eyes. The elf Queen smiled. She held her held her hand out.

Bannor dipped his head and kissed her ring. “Mother-to-be, I thank your graciousness.”

The King raised his chin and gripped the hilt of the sword at his side and pulled it half sheath. He fixed Bannor with a stare that fathers had been focusing on suitors since marriage existed.

“Father-to-be, I thank your graciousness and will endeavor to protect your daughter as you would.”

The King pushed the sword back into the sheath and nodded. Though it had only been part of the ceremony, the stare he had given him was genuine.

“Daughter,” the Queen said. “We grant Our leave to petition the approval of the Sire and Dam of your betrothed.”

Sarai bowed to her parents. “Mother, Father, We thank your courtesy.”

Now, it was his turn. He had to face the parents he had not seen in more than twelve summers. The first words in their reunion would be to ask them to accept a woman that they had never seen before today.

Sarai said she was nervous. How did she think he felt?! He started to turn, then realized his parents didn’t know elvish. What language was he supposed to address them in?!

<Hey,> Sarai poked him. <What’s the hold up?>

<What language do I use? They don’t speak elvish!>

<Okay, now who’s silly? You have the shaladen. The whole family does, remember? They’ll understand you fine even if you use elvish.>

He winced. <Sorry, guess I’m nervous too.>

The Queen raised an eyebrow and nodded him toward the other side of the stage.

He blew out his cheeks, turned and led Sarai toward his mother and father.

As he moved toward them, he realized they both looked terrified. What did they think would happen?

He smiled at his mother. The summers had been hard on her, but she still looked strong. His father’s jaw was working, body tensed, trying to stand firm for his wife.

They stopped in front of his parents, he helped Sarai kneel in the cumbersome gown. Looking into his father’s dark eyes he drew a breath. He hoped this went okay. “Father—” He focused on his mother. “Mother—I present to you Sarai T’Evagduran of Malan, third princess of the realm and Kul’Praelor of the Hippogriff elite. I beg you hear her petition.”

His father was pale. Bannor feared the proud farmer would faint right there in front of them. Baron Kergatha put a hand on Khendar’s shoulder.

“S-s-s,” His father’s voice cracked. He swallowed and with obvious effort mastered himself. “S-son, we will hear her petition.”

He put a hand on Sarai’s back. He felt his wife-to-be draw breath. Sarai raised her face and spoke. “Lady Starfist, Master Starfist, I come to you desiring your son’s strength to make me complete. Your son Bannor has taken my heart and made it his, I earnestly and abjectly request your permission to take the life-oath with your son.”

His mother swallowed. She took her husband’s hand. She raised a shaking hand, obviously reticent to even touch a royal. Mother Gaea put a hand on his mother’s shoulder and steadied her. Kiranna Starfist put her hand on Sarai’s head. “Petitioner T’Evagduran,” his mother said in a shaky voice. “W-w-we feel your love for our son. I-i-it pleases me, and I grant m-my permission.”

Sarai looked up at Khendar Starfist with glowing violet eyes. Bannor saw perspiration trickle down the man’s face. He stared at Sarai the way he might some rare untouchable mythical beast. He drew a breath. “Petitioner T’Evagduran, your devotion, grace and b-beauty pleases me. I g-grant my permission.”

His mother Kiranna drew their hands away. “Betrothed of our son, p-please rise.”

Bannor helped his wife-to-be stand. Sarai looked down at his mother, obviously trying not to look too imposing, and smiled. Gaea nudged her and Kiranna opened her arms to his wife-to-be. Sarai hugged his mother.

“It’s okay,” he heard Sarai whisper in his mother’s ear. “Really. We’ll talk after.”

Bannor saw his mother’s eyes flutter. She seemed to seize on those words. She sighed and smiled the first genuine smile he had seen since they had come on the stage.

Sarai leaned back. “Mother-to-be, thank you for your graciousness and the gift of your son.”

Sarai turned to Khendar. The farmer was obviously lost, not knowing what to do with his hands. She leaned in took his head in her hands and kissed him on the cheek. “Father-to-be, thank you for your graciousness.”

Khendar Starfist blushed to his ears.

Bannor glanced to his sister. Ravan was standing with Gaea. Her daughter was holding the all-mother’s hand, which seemed to please the goddess immensely.

The King, Queen, and princesses came forward.

“Please,” T’Evagduran said, gesturing them toward the stairs leading to the final tier. “Join us.”

Gaea and Vanidaar helped urge the Starfist family forward.

Sarai fell back to climb the steps with him as the ceremony called for them to proceed up last.

<Your parents were terrified of me,> Sarai said. <I thought your mother would jump out of her skin.>

<My mother has never seen an elf, much less a princess of Malan.>

Sarai rolled her eyes. <Still, it’s not like I look like a monster.>

<You’re a royal,> he explained. <Where I come from, historically royals have used commoners as playthings for war and sport. She lost two sons to the whims of a King.>

She hugged his arm. <Well, we’ll give her back one son and a grand-daughter as well.>

Bannor felt his chest tighten as he stepped into the chapel of purification. Garlands of flowers had been strung overhead, the blossoms giving off a sweet pleasant redolence. The topmost tier was a natural amphitheatre in the mountainside about thirty paces across with a large overhang that provided shade. Spring water ran through clefts and hollows in the rocks forming a small waterfall that emptied into a shallow basin around a pace deep. Over time water had exposed mineral and crystal deposits that when hit by sunlight caused a rainbow of colors to shine and spark on the surface of the pool.

The natural formations had been left untouched by the elf crafters, but many places throughout the ceremonial location, carvings and frescos enhanced the natural beauty of the place. Steps had been carved into near and far sides of the pool and a stone podium had been placed on the far side where the ritual priest would perform the binding.

He and Sarai paused behind the group as they gathered around the steps leading into the purification pool. A dozen members of the wedding staff came up the stairs behind them, taking away the priceless robes and cloaks worn by the royal family. He and Laramis were coaxed out of their jackets leaving them standing on the stage skin bare to the cool mists churned out by the waterfalls.

Bannor heard the audience murmuring and he glanced back feeling his cheeks warm.

Laramis rubbed his chest, obviously not embarrassed even in front of the huge crowd. “Bully, the mist feels good.”

Sarai looked over at him and grinned. <You both have the women tittering, my One.>

He raised an eyebrow. <What about you? Are you tittering?>

<Wait until I get you alone. I’ll do better than titter, I guarantee that.>

He looked over toward his family. His sister Ravan was staring at him. She wasn’t looking into his eyes though. He focused down and realized what she was staring at. The scar from where Odin’s spear pierced him through from the back. Even though his body had been completely remade, the stain of that wound remained on his tao. No matter what shape he took, the shadow of that scar eventually reappeared. It was a curse and a powerful one. The old bastard never wanted him forget. He wouldn’t. He didn’t need some phantom scar to remind him of the treachery of the pantheon lords and Odin in particular. He waved a hand at Ravan causing her to raise her gaze to meet his. He couldn’t know for certain what she was thinking, but he imagined that she felt guilty for not being in his life. Throughout their childhood she had wanted to protect him, but he never let her. They parted ways with her never being able to stand up for him the way she wanted. Perhaps now they would have a second chance to put things right.

The maids and stewards finished their tasks and made their way back down the steps.

“Leave us begin,” Gaea echoed. “With this magic I prepare each of us for witnessing the purification and final devotions.” She raised her hands and blue mist started at her feet and rose up her body transforming her clothing into a heavy opaque white robe.

The all-mother repeated this process on each member of the wedding party. He kept his gaze on his parents as each braced for their turn. Except for Ravan’s daughter they all looked extremely relieved it was over. His sister’s little girl was fascinated by it all, her blue eyes wide with interest and awe.

Gaea gestured to him, the magic wafting over his body in a warm caress. White cloth folded out of nothingness to wrap around his body. He watched as white robes appeared around Sarai and then Laramis.

With everyone properly attired it was time for the special guest priestess to make her entrance. Because of the circumstances of the last few moons Kalindinai had made arrangements for a special priestess to do these particular marriage devotions.

In a flare of lightning and crash of thunder that startled everyone including him, the priestess appeared. Dressed in shiny metallic golden robes, rainbow wings sparkling and upraised was Megan Vinax, leader of the Shael Dal, and high priestess of Eternity.

A stir went through the audience. This was unexpected, as usually a priest of Carellion would perform the final devotions. That was before the royal family was on a first name basis with blood relatives of the pantheon lord Carellion himself.

Still, no one could fault Megan for not being impressive; the wings, the flowing blonde hair and glowing aura of strength and benevolence. She was a high justicar bonded to the most powerful holy warrior in Eternity. There were few whose blessing and well wishes that would mean more to him or Sarai.

Crystal blue eyes shining, Megan swung her gaze over the wedding party gathered around the pool. She smiled and held out her hands and spoke with a natural leader’s powerful voice. “Family, friends, allies and neighbors—we are gathered here today to honor and witness the union of two spirits.” She leaned forward and placed her hands on the stone podium, her already strong voice echoing through the stone chamber. “This ritual does not mark the beginning of a journey, but is instead merely a milestone in a love well tested and tempered in the fires of conflict. We are not here to prove or affirm the devotion of Bannor and Sarai, but recognize and celebrate a truly special bond that will only grow stronger in the days henceforth.”

Bannor felt a pang in his chest and a tightness in his throat. Megan’s words were cogent and heartfelt. They were not the words of some stranger but a dear and admirable commander, friend, and sibling. Kalindinai had chosen the perfect person. He looked to Sarai. His wife-to-be’s eyes were misty, obviously she felt Megan’s sincerity and acceptance as he did.

Megan gestured to him. “Kul’Praelor Bannor Nalthane Starfist.” With her other hand she indicated Sarai. “Arminwen Sarai T’Evagduran. Step forth into the water and stand to center so we all might be a part of this communion.”

He squeezed her hand pushed toward the water. Together they descended into the chilly pool, the temperature just low enough to make one twitch. They paused three steps down and caught their breath. After being in the sun all morning the cold caress around his legs and the mist pouring down felt good.

With the heavy robes soaking up the water and the current swirling in the basin they needed to take care as they made their way to the center where the depth came up to Sarai’s chest.

“Whoo,” Sarai said aloud, smiling.

“Wakes you up doesn’t it,” he responded.

Megan gestured. “Will the party for the bride please enter to the left.”

The King and Queen, Ryelle, Janai, and Vanidaar made their way into the water. Kalindinai and Jhaan wore serious expressions as they forged to their positions. Though they weren’t openly smiling, Bannor could feel his parent’s-to-be were happy. Everything they had planned had turned out well.

“Will the party for the groom enter to the right,” Megan requested.

Faces solemn, Khendar and Kiranna Starfist made their way to the water followed by Ravan, her child, Gaea and Laramis.

As Ravan and her child took their positions, Bannor noticed that the girl had a death grip on her mother’s hand, silently and valiantly struggling with the depth that came up past her chin. Gaea leaned in close and whispered something in her ear. The blond child had a perplexed look on her face for moment, then wonderment as the stone under her feet pushed up a hand-span leaving her with a comfortable place to stand. She bounced and grinned at Gaea.

Bannor had to smile. Next to him, Sarai was also enjoying the brief interplay. No doubt imagining as he did what it would be like to have a little girl of their own.

Megan came from around the podium and descended into the water, the light from her wings and hair making the water glow and sparkle around her. She stopped a pace from Bannor and Sarai.

The air-maiden pressed her hands together, and looked left and right as she spoke. “This is a ritual of cleansing. It invites the bride and groom and their families, to wash away the stigmas of the past and begin anew. It invites learning from our mistakes. It invites casting out hard feelings, self-doubt, and regret. It asks all of us, not just Bannor and Sarai, to be enriched and grow stronger from this union. Let each of us find guidance and strength in our ability to love and be loved. As the water surrounds us, so can love, and like water, love can wash away the stains of pain and unhappiness.”

Megan reached down and gathered water in her cupped hands. “Now, leave us cleanse our minds.” She raised her hands and emptied her palms over her head, letting the crystalline water flow down over her hair and face. As everyone followed suit, she cupped up another double handful. “Let us wash away bias from our sight.” She splashed the water over her eyes and let it run down her face. “Let our hearts be freed from shadow.” Megan cast water on her chest. “And let purity join with us.” She gestured and a large golden chalice appeared in her hand. Filling the cup, she sipped from it and passed it to the King on her right, who sipped and passed it to his wife.

The air maiden continued to speak as the cup was passed around. “Love, like water, is life. Without it, we grow weak. Yet, there are those who try to live without its embrace, and even believe it makes a spirit feeble. They simply have not experienced true unity.”

His mother sipped from the cup and came forward to pass it to him. He accepted chalice from her. As she drew back he took her hand, and gave it a gentle pressure. “Thank you, Mother,” he whispered. “Thank you for coming.”

Kiranna blushed and nodded, she started to say something but seemed to think better of it in the middle of the ceremony.

Bannor took a big hit from the cup, letting the cool water slide down his throat. It was more than welcome with all the events of this day. He turned and handed the cup to Sarai who also took a long drink.

His wife-to-be passed it back to Megan who accepted it with a nod. The priestess gestured and the cup vanished. The air maiden let out a breath, and turned to King T’Evagduran. “Does the party of the bride still accept this groom and entrust her to his support and care?”

Jhaan glanced to Kalindinai who smiled. He bowed his head. “We do.”

Megan looked to Khendar Starfist. “Does the party of the groom still accept this bride and commend her to be the mother of his children and the guardian of their hearth?”

Bannor’s father looked over at Sarai. They had only met a fraction of a bell ago. What little he knew of her would be from Kalindinai and Gaea. Of course, knowing Kalindinai might be all one needed to know, for good or bad, about Sarai.

“We do,” Khendar said in firm voice.

Megan turned them and gestured them together. “Bannor and Sarai, join hands.”

He raised his hands and laced his fingers with hers. He gazed into her violet eyes feeling light-headed and dizzy. They had come so far to reach this moment.

“Marriage is many things,” Megan said, looking between them. “Among them, it is a journey. It is a pilgrimage of discovery, one that tests us and invites us to grow as we learn things about ourselves and our mates.”

He felt Sarai’s hand tighten in his. They had already learned a great deal about themselves and each other.

“…Marriage is also a partnership, two lovers joining forces to prosper in the theatre of life. Most significant though, marriage is a covenant. It is a promise of unconditional acceptance, a promise of strength in trying times, and an oath of fidelity. Let us all wish Bannor and Sarai well as they take their first steps in married life, and remember everything this ceremony represents.”

Megan reached out and put her hands around their meshed fingers. He felt the air-maiden’s strength as she bowed her head. She drew a breath and smiled for them, blue eyes sparkling. “The nuptial oaths are the most sacred of all agreements. They are promises of the highest merit and the deepest commitment, and are in no way subject to petty interpretations or deflection.” Megan turned to him, eyes now fierce and voice hard. “Bannor, are you prepared to speak your oath, though it bind you now and for all eternity?”

“I am.”

Her gaze snapped to his wife-to-be. “Sarai, are you prepared to speak your oath, though it bind you now and for all eternity?”

“I am.”

“So be it,” Megan intoned. “As an agent for Eternity and lawfully empowered executor for the sovereign nation of Malan, I stand ready to witness and codify these binding oaths.” She removed her hands and turned her palms up. In a flare of light, a ring appeared in each of her palms. Bannor panicked for an instant and then realized it was indeed the ring that he was prepared to give Sarai.

“Matrimonial rings are emblems representing many things,” Megan said. “The depth and breadth of those meanings is unique to each spouse. Let your band be the first token of a love that will grow stronger forever more.” She paused looking between them and smiling. “Bannor, take your ring and pronounce your oath before the eyes of your wife-to-be, these friends, and Eternity itself.”

Looking into his face, eyes shining with expectation, Sarai let go of his hands. So many things were going through him. It was hard to think much less move.

With a slow care, he gathered the ring out of Megan’s palm, took Sarai’s shaking hand and slid the ring onto her finger. He swallowed again, feeling like he would explode. “S-Sarai,” he said, pausing to get the words out. “I, Bannor Starfist, promise to cherish, honor and respect you. To defend you from harm, be your strength, and your loyal loving confidant for as long as we both shall live.”

He let out a breath. It felt like he had run half way across Malan. Sarai’s eyes glistened, and her cheeks were flush and she bit her lip.

Megan looked to his wife-to-be. “Sarai, take your ring and pronounce your oath before the eyes of your husband-to-be, these friends, and Eternity itself.”

Sarai took the ring from Megan and reached for his hand. Her fingers trembled as she pushed the band onto his finger, and raised her eyes to meet his. She smiled. “Bannor, I, Sarai T’Evagduran promise to treasure, respect, and trust you. I will stand at your shoulder in peace and in war, bear your children, and protect your secrets for as long as we both shall live.”

Megan reached out and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. “The rings have been exchanged and the vows taken. Let all bear witness and acknowledge these proceedings henceforth. By the power vested in me by Eternity and the sovereign nation of Malan, I pronounce you husband and wife!” She leaned forward. “Spouses, you may kiss.”

The crowd below them roared and applauded. The massed tension running through him seemed to vaporize into nothingness. They had done it. He leaned forward and Sarai took him around the neck. He gazed into her eyes feeling her love and warmth and gave her a kiss to last a lifetime…

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Epilogue

To me, it was as if my brother had died
and ascended to holy Valhalla itself.
Keeping company with valkyries, freyr-kin,
nature spirits and all manner of magical
creatures. I find it hard to believe it is even
him. Yet, who else would hug me so
strongly, call me sister, and apologize so
fiercely?
—Ravan Yvette Greensward-Starfist

Breathing hard, Bannor paused holding Sarai leaned back over the dance floor, her silvery hair just brushing the shiny waxed wood. The dozens of other dancers around them on the floor applauded as he pulled her up to hug his chest. She laughed and kissed him. She tasted good, and just to feeling her body against his made him dizzy.

The reception was every bit as gigantic and chaotic as he imagined it would be. The massive hall crammed with nobility dressed in their best finery doing their best to outshine each other. Gaea’s children, members of the Shael Dal, Felspars, and Frielos clans moved like ships cutting through turbulent seas, attracting attention and stares wherever they went. Normally, he didn’t much like parties or crowds, but tonight was special.

Sarai gave him a squeeze. Dressed in gold phoenix dinner gown, her hair flowing down over her shoulders, she was a sight to match any of the women on the floor. “That was fun, my One! I didn’t know you were such a good dancer!”

He hadn’t known it either until they had gone to the center of the dance floor to do the traditional bride and groom’s first dance. It was something they had practiced early on long before he’d gotten the quick-teach from Mercedes. At the time, they decided it was something far less important that they could “fake” their way through when the time came.

“Let’s do that again,” Sarai giggled.

“Maybe in a little while, Star.”

“Hmmm?”

He nodded to the side of the dance floor where a close to twenty ladies were already lined up, the first two being Kalindinai and Gaea. “I don’t think your father wants to be kept waiting either.” He gestured to a similar line that had formed behind the King.

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Duty calls.” She skipped toward her father. She stopped part way and looked back. “Don’t have too much fun.”

He grinned back at her. “Yes, my Star.”

He made his way to the Queen. The matriarch of Malan was dressed in black and silver, her dark hair braided and pinned in conservative fashion. Bannor bowed and held his hand out to her in properly courtly fashion. She put her hand in his and he kissed it. “A dance pleases you, Matradomma?”

Kalindinai smiled a genuine smile and it made him realize how truly stunning the Queen of Malan was when she was happy. “It does indeed, my Son.”

He bowed to Gaea, Megan, Janai, Ryelle, Daena, Ravan and even her little daughter were all awaiting a turn. “My pardons to all you beautiful ladies, alas there is only one of me.”

“Don’t apologize,” Megan said with an arch expression. “Hurry up!” The women laughed and giggled.

He was so pleased that the ever-outgoing Janai was looking after his sister, putting her at ease and making her and her daughter feel welcome.

Bannor nodded to the floor. “Shall we?”

“With vigor!” The Queen declared.

He led the elf Matriarch out as the music for the next dance began. He was surprised when the high lady not only let him lead but snuggled in closer than was absolutely necessary. She was, not surprisingly, an accomplished dancer moving with extraordinary grace. They circled and dipped. As they swept around, he saw Sarai doing her turn with her father. They both seemed to be having fun, sweeping and swaying with acrobatic expertise.

Kalindinai looked over at them with a grin. “It’s been too long since those two had fun together.” She leaned in a little closer, her cheek brushing his. Her words were a low whisper. “I apologize for intruding on your family.” She raised her head, amber eyes serious. “I did not realize the depth of the scars until quite late.”

“Matradomma, please don’t apologize. I-i-it needed to be done—I don’t think I would have had the courage to face them…” His voice trailed off. “I—wanted—to—I just…”

The Queen nodded. “Good, I wasn’t sure if it would work out though Gaea assured me that it would.”

“I guess it’s true that she knows me better than I know myself.” He glanced over to the all-mother. She was sitting in a chair with Ravan’s daughter in her lap, leaned over saying something to her. She certainly had taken a liking to her. Earlier, his sister had seemed concerned by it, but now appeared more at ease with Gaea’s affection.

“So, now that we have them here, what would you have Us do with them?”

Bannor frowned. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Please, my Son, don’t be dense. They are your blood. While Janai and Ryelle are ahead of you, you and Sarai are still in line for the throne. I had Gaea find them so that others less honorable would not locate them before Us.”

He rocked his head back. It had never even occurred to him. “Oh lords, my father is so stubborn, he’ll never…”

Kalindinai cut him off. “Your father is more reasonable than you realize. I told him they should come to the capital at least until after the marriage. I said that I couldn’t guarantee their safety or the safety of his daughter’s family unless they were here where I had a measure of control. I didn’t ask them to come to the wedding. I only said they would be welcome if they wished to take part.”

He blinked, totally taken by surprise. Kalindinai had not strong-armed his father at all. He had come on his own.

“You seem shocked,” the Queen said with a half smile.

“It’s not what I expected. I need to think about what to do.”

“Take your time. They aren’t in a hurry. I understand the crops did poorly this harvest and they were having trouble getting by. They refused to accept charity, so…” She chuckled. “I explained Sarai’s dowry was paying for it.”

“Father accepted that?”

“Bannor, he didn’t have much choice. Do you know what a handful of silver will buy in the capital?”

He frowned. “A meal—maybe.” His brow furrowed. “So, how much is the dowry of a princess?”

The Queen raised an eyebrow. “How much do you think it cost to put this wedding on?”

He looked around the giant hall, and the hundreds of people all eating and drinking. He shook his head. “I can’t imagine.”

She smiled. “About that much.”

The music ended and he led the Queen over to the King and bowed to them. Sarai came over and gave him a hug. “Mother seemed to be enjoying herself.”

“Yes,” he responded. “It was nice.”

Sarai sighed and put her head down on his shoulder. “Looks like no rest for the groom.”

“Hmmm?”

She nodded to something over his shoulder. He looked back and saw Gaea making a coming gesture with her finger.

He felt his face grow warm. “Sorry, Star.”

“No worries, my One.” She winked at him and grinned. “I’ll have you all to myself soon enough.”

He gave his wife a parting kiss and threaded through the crowd to Gaea and the others. The all-mother was dressed in a deep blue shiny wrap, her hands, wrists, neck and ears festooned with jewelry. A habit she had picked up from Damay who was always giving her something new to try out.

Gaea met him half way, and held out her hand. He took hold and put a hand on her hip and they did a slow turn together.

“I was jealous, my Son,” Gaea said with mock sternness. “You danced with Kalindinai before me. I was your mother first after all.”

They turned and dived through the other dancers. He didn’t know when the all-mother had occasion to learn to dance, but she moved with the grace of accomplished terpsichorean. Gone was the stumbling defenseless and child-like mother of the savants, she had matured into a vibrant and powerful being.

“You dance well, Mother,” he complimented her.

“Ziedra taught me,” Gaea said with a grin. “She used to dance for the King of Corwin.” She moved in closer. “This has been a fascinating day, I have enjoyed it immensely.”

“I’m glad.” As they swung around past the one side of the room where the princesses were standing, he saw Ravan’s daughter waving to them. Gaea waved back to her which made the little girl bounce and smile. He tilted his head. “You seem to have made a friend.”

“Mikka is darling,” Gaea said with a smile. “It’s the first time I’ve gotten to know one of my children when they were this age.”

Bannor felt a jolt go through him and he missed a step and almost tripped. “Mother?” he sputtered. “One of your ‘children’ children, or just one of your children?”

The all-mother raised an eyebrow. She pulled him straight and corrected their direction through the circling dancers. “Such a confusing question, whatever do you mean by it?”

His eyes were wide. “Are you saying my niece is a savant?”

Gaea chuckled. “My son, you act so scandalized. The blood of the Garmtur is very strong. It’s not surprising that someone else in your line would pick up the gift.”

“But she’s just a child,” he said, looking back as they turned.

“Bannor, you were a child once—” She gave him an arch expression. “Still are actually.”

He blew out his cheeks. “Did you tell Ravan?”

Gaea’s brow furrowed and she made an expression like she had eaten something sour. “What? Of course not. Ravan is frightened of her own shadow. I’ll leave that to you.” The all-mother pinched him. “What’s that dour expression for? She’s your niece, and your little sister. Can’t you be happy that there’s something there to help you come together with your blood relative?”

Bannor sighed. “I was thinking about never telling my family what I am.”

Gaea frowned. “And how did you plan on explaining Vhina, or any of your ascendant brothers and sisters?”

“I hadn’t really gotten that far in considering… I mean we only got back together a few bells ago.”

They swung around past the group and he glanced at his blonde-haired niece being doted on by the princesses. She was going to get a lot of attention. Still, did it make any sense to reveal something that might not matter? In a few summers, the Chyrith would probably come. It would be a war and children had no place in war. Did he have the right to take away the only chance she might have of protecting herself? Lords, he didn’t need these kinds of thoughts—not on his wedding night.

“Do you know what kind of savant she’ll be?” he asked.

Gaea gave his shoulder a squeeze. “It’s a bit early to know for certain, but my guess is she’ll be a Latis Nola.”

“A savant of time?”

She nodded.

“I would think a time savant would be really strong.”

The all-mother sighed. “A single disrupted chronon can destroy all existence. So, yes, if it’s true, Mikka has some—potential.”

He felt a sharp pain throb in his temple. He rocked his head forward. “Mother, why do you take such joy in scaring me?”

The music stopped and they paused. Gaea leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. She leaned back, letting her fingers trail down his jaw. “It’s just you I get the joy from, my Son, not the scaring part.” She turned and led him back to the group. “You should dance with your sister.”

Heading back he glanced around for Sarai. His wife was dancing with Loric. He noticed that Wren’s brother Azir had somehow managed to get Ryelle out on the floor. The first princess seemed to be enjoying herself. He paused as he saw Wren sweep by in the arms of a burly looking elf man. She was still in ascendant form, dressed in a brilliant red gown, her floor-length blonde hair braided and tailed. The blonde Kel’Varan was laughing and her face appeared flush. He stared after them. An elf who wasn’t daunted or challenged by Wren the ascendant? Someone who could make her smile? Truly, the world was changing.

“Whoa,” he murmured.

Gaea looked back, gaze finding where he was looking. “Ah yes, our little Wren has a new admirer; Kirran something or other.”

He glanced back again. “Kirran Sunglory, the high Praelor of the Hippogriff elite?”

Gaea shrugged. “That sounds right.” She stopped. “Ah, here we are. Ravan dear, I bring you your brother, still intact.”

His sister looked up at him with wide, dark eyes. Petite and pretty, she looked thin and pale in the pink satin dancing gown. “I-I don’t know, h-how to dance,” she said, a blush coming to her cheeks. “Your, ummm,” she glanced to Janai who was waving her toward the floor. “Sisters—kept insisting.”

He smiled. “Jan just wants you to have a good time.”

Wearing a white dress, blonde hair in tails, Ravan’s daughter Mikka came and pulled on her hand. “Aren’t you going to dance, Momma? It looks like fun!”

“It’ll be okay,” he said. “It’s easy.” He held out a hand.

After a moment of uncertainty, Ravan took his hand. He led her with slow steps onto the floor and turned. “Just put your hand on my shoulder.” He laced his fingers with hers and put a hand behind her back. “I have you. Now just relax and move.”

His sister fumbled at first, but she was a farm-raised girl strong and supple, and caught on fast.

Ravan laughed. “It’s easier than I thought.”

He smiled. “Of course.”

She tilted her head. “I think most of it is you. You seem to know where I’m going to move before I do.”

Bannor gave her hand a squeeze. “Shouldn’t a brother be able to do that?”

She searched his face. “Ban, I—” She stopped whatever she was going to say. She moved in close and put her cheek on his chest. “I don’t know why, even after all this time, I feel safe with you—like we’ve never been apart.” She shook her head. “You’re so strong.”

He rubbed her back. “Come on, let’s not talk about me. What about you? I heard you got married. Where’s your husband?”

“He didn’t feel much like coming,” she said with a frown. “He’s back at our rooms looking after Bannor.”

His brow furrowed. “Pardon?”

She sighed. “My son—he’s two—I, uhhh—”

“You named him after me?”

She nodded and frowned. “Olin, my husband, he hated the idea, but he gave in after I insisted.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why, what’s wrong with my name?”

“Olin, well, he really respects Father. He has something of the wrong impression about you. He doesn’t understand why you left.”

“What, he thinks I abandoned them?”

She shook her head. “I don’t really know what he thinks. I just know he gets grouchy when your name comes up. He even went up to Tenax looking for you one season.”

Olin. Why did that name sound familiar to him? He tried to remember any Olins he might have known as a child and came up blank. Drenin-town wasn’t very big and they knew practically everyone.

“How long ago was this?” he asked.

“Three summers, right after harvest before Bannor was born,” she responded.

“He said he didn’t find me?” he shook his head. “He must not have looked very hard. Everyone in the Baron’s legion knew me. I might not have been around but just about anyone in the corps could have gotten word to me.” He paused. “Right after harvest.” He felt a chill. “Your Olin isn’t a trapper is he?”

Ravan’s eyes widened. “He traps in the off-harvest season.”

“Uhmm,” Bannor shook his head. “Is his family name Greensward?”

His sister came to an abrupt stop in the dance floor, almost causing them to collide with another couple. “Yes,” she said with an astonished expression.

Bannor pulled her into motion again. “Well, I guess I know why he gets grouchy when he hears my name. He did a tenday in the garrison brig for poaching on the Baron’s private land; made a big stink about it too. He probably didn’t know my name until he’d cussed me up one side and down the other. He’s lucky he kept his teeth.”

“But why didn’t…”

“Rav, I’m surprised he didn’t tell you I was dead. He probably knows you well enough that if he had said I was dead, you would have come to look for yourself.”

“Ban, you want me to believe…”

“Sister, believe as you choose. He has the grudge remember? Ask yourself why.”

“Damn,” Ravan said, thumping him on the shoulder. “I was hoping you two could be friends.”

He shrugged. “There’s nothing preventing that. This isn’t Tenax. This is Malan. I can forget some stupid words. I won’t hold his past against him, if he doesn’t hold mine against me—fair?”

“Of course, but…”

“But…?”

“You’re right—” She sighed. “It’s fair.”

“I know.”

She gave his shoulder a squeeze and looked up at him in admiration. “You know, little brother, you’ve grown up a lot.”

“There hasn’t been much choice. My wife is four centuries old.”

She looked up at him with an expression of wonder. “Doesn’t that scare you? I mean the elf nobles live forever!”

“Hardly forever, Sister,” he responded. “Only four or five millennia.”

“Why do you think that’s funny?”

“Rav, it’s not funny, it just is. Forget that, tell me about Mother and Father. How have they been? I mean, I feel them over there in the corner hiding, and I don’t want to push them.”

His sister rocked her head back and fixed him with dark eyes. “What do you mean you ‘feel’ them?”

He blinked. “I mean I saw them…”

“No you didn’t,” she said with a firm voice. “When you said it, you looked right at them. You were first into the hall and we came in last, there’s no way in this huge place you could have seen them.”

“Uh, somebody told me…” he murmured.

She frowned at him. “What are you afraid of? Bannor, I know that something is going on. I see the way these people treat you. You’re not some Drenin-town farmer, and it’s not because you just became prince…”

He rocked his head side to side. “Rav, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“You won’t know unless you try…”

“Look, I promise to tell you everything, just not now, okay?”

“It better be soon,” Ravan said. She abruptly stopped dancing and dragged on his arm. “You want to know about Mother and Father, come talk to them yourself.”

“Hey, wait… no!”

He tried to slow his sister down but didn’t want to make a scene in front of hundreds of nobility. Determined, Ravan threaded through the crowd like she were forging through a packed summer fair ground.

In the northern part of the hall near the entrances to the hall of judgment, his mother and father, dressed in fine party clothes sat at a table back away from the commotion. They weren’t by themselves though, Senalloy and Vera were sitting with them.

For a moment, a wild sense of urgency seized him. What might those two have told them?

“Mother, Father,” Ravan said in loud voice. “I think—come on—” She growled dragging him the last few steps. “I think it’s time for us to talk.” She paused looking at the two new women.

“Hello Sen,” he bowed to Vera. “Su’ko-sama.”

Ravan looked at him. “You know them?”

“Rav,” he gestured. “This is Lady Senalloy Moirae Corresont, acting Kul’praelor of the Nightslash Elite. She’s my second in the military unit. This other lady is Su’Ko Takara Hoshihana, a member of house Felspar, and my teacher. Sen, Su’ko, this is my sister Ravan.” He fixed his gaze on Senalloy. “Everything is okay—right?”

Senalloy brushed at her silver hair and waved him down. “Everything is fine.”

He frowned. “Fine like crossbows-in-the-trees fine, or fine fine?”

The Baronian lady grinned. “Fine fine. I took care of it didn’t I. Don’t I always?”

“Bannor?” his mother said with a concerned voice. “What is it?”

He rubbed his temple. “Nothing. Nothing.” He sighed. “I just thought—” He paused. “Well, Ravan decided… I mean is everything okay? Have they been treating you well?”

“Treating us well?” his mother gasped. “Son, I feel terrible. Those cute little serving girls won’t let me do anything! They are constantly underfoot, I can’t even brush my own hair! It has me worn out, they don’t understand a word I say and they’re too nice to fight with.”

They understand every word you say. They’re just ignoring you like they did me when I first came to stay with Sarai. “It’s okay, Mother. It’s something they are proud to do, something they take pride in doing for the King and Queen, taking care of their guests.” He focused back on Senalloy. “So, what’s going on?”

“Nothing. Now that the wedding is over, I thought they might want to get out. I was just asking if they wanted me to arrange to have them shown around.”

He eyed Vera. “And?”

“I only wished to speak with your parents,” she said with total innocence. He knew Vera. There was no way it was ‘only’ that. Sen and Vera together—they had worked together a lot recently. Whatever their real reason, they had their cover stories so as not to scare his parents.

“Su’ko says you’re a very good student,” his Mother said with a smile.

Bannor rubbed the back of his head and forced a smile. “I suppose.” He swallowed and looked to his Father. The man had never been reticent to speak before. “Father, are we going to be able to talk?”

Kheldar drew a breath. He studied the table for a long while. Kiranna put a hand on top of his. “Bannor, we will talk. We should set a time…”

He folded his arms. “What about now?”

His father’s eyes widened. “Here? It’s…”

Bannor looked around. “Father, I know where I am.”

Senalloy rose from her chair and came over to him. She leaned in close and put and hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure about this?” she whispered.

He nodded.

The Baronian lady sighed.

“It’s your wedding night,” his father protested. “We can’t talk about this, not in front of these ladies…”

He put a hand on Senalloy’s shoulder and then looked to Vera. “There’s nothing so private about me that Sen or Su’Ko can’t hear it. We’ve faced death so many times…” His voice trailed off.

“Son, I don’t know if I’m ready,” Kheldar said. “For summers I’ve thought about what I would say if I ever saw you again. I still don’t think I’ve found the words…”

Bannor walked over and leaned on the chair at their table. He checked the crowd, making sure they hadn’t attracted any extra attention.

“Father, you should just forget about finding words and just listen to mine. When we parted company, you had the last word. Those words have eaten at me for more than a decade—and you know what? I’m tired of it. You can hear what I have to say, or I can turn my back right now,” he pointed back to the dance floor. “And you never have to talk to me again.”

“Bannor!” his mother gasped. “Please.”

“Brother,” Ravan grabbed his shoulder. “We just…”

“Both of you, hush, this is between me and Father.” He kept his eyes on Kheldar. There was still some fire left in his eyes even after all this time. “What’ll it be?”

“Son,” his father dragged a hand through his thinning hair. “I don’t know why you have to make this a confrontation. I wanted to come to you…”

“No you didn’t,” he growled. “If you did, you wouldn’t have sent Olin to look for me. No, you’ve known where I was all along. The time was never the right one because if you were ever going to admit you were wrong it would be on your terms. How did you always say it—? ‘My house, my rules.’ Now we’re here,” he gestured to the massive hall. “Tonight, one night only, this is my house. This time it’s my rules.”

Vera pushed to a stand. The way she moved, she was not relaxed and her hands were fists. The little woman spoke in dark rasp. “You will lower your voice. These are your birth parents. Do not make the mistake of tearing a new wound while mending an old one.”

He swallowed. Feeling some of the heat in his chest subside. He let out a breath and bowed his head. “Yes, Mistress.”

Vera stepped back and folded her arms.

His mother and father stared at Vera, no doubt surprised at the power she had over him.

Over his shock, Kheldar focused back on him. “Son, I—”

“Kheldar-san needs to stop talking,” Vera said, interrupting him. “He needs to listen.”

“Will you do that, Father?” Bannor asked. “Listen?”

He gave a weak nod. His mother, Kiranna put a hand on top of his.

“It’s going to hurt, but I’m going to answer a question,” Bannor told them. “It’s something that thrashed around in me until I was almost hollow. Twelve summers ago, you asked me a question. You asked me why I lived and Ramm died.” His mother sucked a breath and his father straightened. “I was too young to answer that—too hurt. I have an answer now. He died because of me, because I protected him. Ramm died from lack of focus and, you’ll hate me for saying it, from a lack of courage. Ramm knew what consequences were, but never once took responsibility for his actions. For summers I hoped—he never woke up—never took responsibility.”

“When the press-gang came for us, Ramm had to be responsible for himself. That didn’t stop me from trying. I ate dirt, I licked boots and pissed blood just so I could stay in the same company with him.”

He sighed, feeling the bitterness still cold in his veins. “Father, he never listened to a single damn thing he was told. He was so lucky—he should have died long before he did. His luck just ran out. We were supposed to be on perimeter when the northland army came over the hill. Ramm was frelling with corpses, taking trophies instead of watching for enemies. That’s how he got shot. Doing something stupid, just like at home, not thinking about the consequences. Even when the enemy encampment was just over the hill. I pulled him out of there, but the northies were already on the move.” He felt his face grow hot and the tears well in his eyes. “I carried his whining crying arse a league because he wouldn’t carry himself. We got over-run and we both got hit. I carried him—” He choked. “Carried him two leagues more, coughing blood and tearing myself up. He was so heavy—so damn heavy. I’d carried him for summers and I—just didn’t have the—have the strength anymore.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I spent a couple of seasons slogging through swamps, fighting rock to rock, and hill to hill. The whole time feeling it was my fault he died—that I somehow could have done more.” He sniffed and rubbed at his eyes. “The sad irony, Father, was I did too much. I tried to carry us both and it got him killed.”

Bannor let out a breath. “That’s it. I apologize for confronting you with it, on a day that’s supposed to be a celebration. I needed to get on my life, and that has been…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

Khendar sat in his chair, shoulders rounded down. “Son, you don’t have to apologize… Y-you needed to s-s-say it.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “And I, damn it, I—needed to h-hear it.”

“I think we need to change direction here,” Senalloy said, looking between him and his parents. “Mistakes were made—things were said. I’ve known Bannor a while, I know this for sure—he loved his brother.” She looked to Kheldar. “And he loved you. Whatever went on back then was really broken. You both know it now. Dredging up more won’t help. What better time than now to just start over.”

Senalloy glanced to Vera who still had her arms folded but had her head tilted. “I know we can’t completely forget somebody who has been lost. However, finding fault, assigning blame—” She hit Bannor in the shoulder. “Even if it’s to yourself, is not productive.” The giant Baronian lady straightened up. She hooked both hands over Bannor’s shoulder and leaned toward Kheldar and his wife. “Here’s something you might not realize about your son. Bannor is the most responsible man I have ever met. In fact, he’s too responsible. He takes responsibility for dren he can’t control.”

“Sen,” he rocked his head. “Don’t…”

“Shush,” she flicked his ear. “This guy would spit blood before letting somebody down or breaking a promise. All of us know it—it makes his wife crazy. He is stupid dedicated.” She paused and wiped at her eye. “But it’s why we care about him—why we have his back.” She stepped back and rubbed her hands. “So, let’s move along shall we? The dance floor awaits and I haven’t taken my turn with mister married!”

His parents were staring at her, and looking at him. After a long moment his father said, “Bannor?”

“Father, you don’t need to apologize. Let’s do like Sen says, move on.”

“Can you do that, Son?”

He looked down. He caught a glimpse of something flashing in his direction and straightened up. Through a break in the crowd he saw Sarai waving to him and coming their way.

He sighed. Life was too short. Literally… given what they had witnessed on Homeworld. They needed to make these the best summers of their lives. He would never do that dragging decade-old bitterness with him.

Bannor looked at his father. “Grab Mother, I’m going to teach you two to dance…”

(To be continued in the Wren Kergatha series: Gaea’s Blood and then in the Shaladen Chronicles: Who Mourns the Creator.)

Return to Contents

Glossary of Terms

—  A  —

Aesir — (also Aesirian) The name given to the Lords of Asgard. There are two clans in Gladshiem consisting of pantheon lords and their issue. There are the more well-known Aesir, and their often rival brothers the Vanir.

Alostar, Damay — Eldest of the Kel’Varans and reputed to be the most powerful. Damay fought many epic battles against Mandrimin (c.f.) the Ta’arthak Nola (savant of matter) in her time. About 6000 years ago she fell to Aarlen Frielos in a duel of magic, she was approximately 2900 summers old at the time. It is unknown exactly how or why, but Aarlen trapped Damay’s tao essence in an amulet of shael-dal metal. It is surmised that the amulet was an experiment to create a magical item fueled by the essence of a savant. Apparently, the item was never completed. In 1091 N.I.S., Wren Kergatha came into possession of the amulet. She later resurrected Damay by rejoining her tao with a suitable body.

See Also:  ascendant, Frielos, Aarlen, Kergatha, Liandra {Wren} Idun-daughter, magic

Alpha — Alpha is the name given to the entity, which procreated life in the body of Gaea and is thus the progenitor of the elder races that diversified to become the various forms of life throughout Eternity. Many scholars speculate that Alpha and Gaea are merely metaphors for the burgeoning of life. Others cite differently quoting texts that indicate that both Alpha and Gaea were actual creatures that pre-dated all other forms of intelligent life. The Alphaforce is the spark said to be carried by savants. This spark is sometimes referred to as a ‘tao’.

See Also:  ascendant, Eternity

alphas — Alphas (plural) is general reference to creatures that possess a ‘tao’ and have the potential to merge with their ‘beta’ match. All savants are considered ‘alphas’ while the pantheon lords are considered ‘betas’. It is theorized that each living alpha savant has a corresponding beta who is their reciprocal.

See Also:  ascendant, betas

Arabella — Bard hailing from Corwin, renowned through Sharikaar. Many of the epics of the Ring Realms are translations written by this red-headed lady bard. The number of adaptations attributed to Arabella seem excessive considering her relatively young age (around 50). While most famous for her ability with instruments, song, and pen—Arabella has a notorious history. She was associated with some of the more nefarious thieves guilds in Sharikaar, and purportedly involved in many kinds of violent mayhem.

Arabella was renowned for her temper, and was involved several known public duels that resulted in the death of her opponents. Certain sources cite that they find it unusual that in more than half of these fatalities, the slaying blow appeared to be inflicted from behind.

A number of reliable witnesses claim that Arabella is currently no longer among the living. With a town full of onlookers, a red haired bard, purportedly Arabella, was accused, tried, and hung for murder in northern Ivaneth. The credence of this report is in doubt however, because new songs and written materials with Arabella’s distinctive flair have since appeared. Whether they are actually the work of Arabella, or simply the works of another bard publishing under her name is unknown.

See Also:  Corwin, Ivaneth, Tunespinner, Arabella

archmage — A term to classify the highest order of magely skills. When a magic-user attains archmage status they are said to be “master” mages and can utilize all common schools of magick.

See Also:  magic

Ariok, Dominique Kalan — Daughter of Gabriella Sarn Ariok and Sarok Ariok. Like her mother Dominique was turned to vampirism to survive in the Silissian campaign against the servants of Kali. Dominique was trained from birth to be a warrior specializing in the destruction of the minions of Kali. She is a renowned blademaster and with her extended lifespan, she turned to magic and became a loremage as well. Unlike her mother, Dominique was not a willing vampire, she was forced into it by her mother. Centuries later when this condition was a removed, it remains a point of friction between them. (Ah, the drama of having an evil dragon-draining vampire for a mother!) As a result, Dominique was always closer to her father, who as one might imagine was no angel either if he took a vampire as his wife.

Through a complicated series of events, Dominique attempted to free her mother after she had been captured by Dorian and Cassandra, and the evil purified from her. Not knowing what had been done to her mother, Dominique was quite surprised when her mother turned on her and assisted in her capture. Dominique too was turned from the darkness, and the vampirism that had been forced on her reversed. Many cycles later through a gradual campaign of persuasion, Dominique has slowly become friends with members of the Felspar clan. Though no-longer a vampire, she is still a ‘vamp’, and characterized by her smooth and lascivious dialogue, it goes without saying that she still likes whips and chains… but that’s another story.

For a number of cycles, Dominique and Tal Falor were an “item” and both did a tour of duty in the Shael Dal where the lady began to like the role of the hero. She and Tal split up on friendly terms in 1087 N.I.S. Dominique’s exemplary contributions to the Protectorate were significant enough that she was asked to continue being a contributing member.

It was through her involvement with the protectorate that Dominique came into contact with the Kriar high counsel Marna Solaris. She and the Kriar became fast friends in the wake of her recent separation from Tal. Later, she and the Kriar lady became lovers. They eventually married when Marna underwent renewal. (Kriar periodically change sexual identity—so Marna took on the identity of Marn—a male Kriar). Dominique has one child by Marna which she foathra’d when Marna was still female, a boy named Celaesh.

Dominique has been teaching the Kriar matriarch magic, in return she has been learning Kriar warp-science and gate control. The woman’s already formidable mastery of magic intertwined with Kriar super-technology make her one of the most dangerous creatures in the Ring Realms.

See Also:  Ariok, Gabriella Sarn, dragon, Eternity, eternals, Ishtarvariku, Dorian Degaba, Kriar, magic

Ariok, Gabriella Sarn — The Dragon Queen of Silissia. This great elder’s true name (Drakka’Tah) is known only to a few. Gabriella was born sometime during the infancy of the Silissian old world, approximately 14,000 cycles ago. She was the sole survivor when the Kali cult over-ran her village and staked out her family. Swearing vengeance, she undertook a campaign against the followers of the death goddess that lasted close to five millennia.

Early in her history, Gabriella turned to vampirism to get the strength and lifespan to continue her vendetta. Gabriella is known as the Dragon Queen because unlike typical vampires who feed on humans, her targets were typically dragons both for the amount of blood and their power. It is unknown how she gained the power to prey on dragons in such a fashion, but it surmised she gained this ability (curse?) from one of the three orbs of dragonkind.

In her later years, Gabriella had the misfortune of crossing some of the Band of the Crescent Moon. After a number of clashes, the elder was eventually captured by the combined efforts of Dorian Degaba and Cassandra Kel’Ishtauri. With the power of grand magicks, Gabriella was turned from darkness to serve the light. Regardless of her new ‘outlook’, Gabriella is uneasy ally of House Felspar and the regime of Isis. After her ‘conversion’ Gabriella shared a close bond with Dorian, and two are fast allies. Dorian, along with her daughters Cassin and Annawen, serve as Gabriella’s magical apprentices.

Gabriella has four living daughters: Dominique, Gabrin, Sabella, Sarokirin. Her only son, Sarok, died in a conflict against her. Before her capture and conversion, Gabriella acted occasionally as an agent for Aarlen Frielos. Gabriella plays a significant roll in the story of Savant’s Blood.

See Also:  dragon, Frielos, Aarlen, Isis, Ishtarvariku, Dorian Degaba

arminwen — Elvish. Respectful way to address a princess when your caste and rank are inferior.

See Also:  elvish

ascendant — Term coined by Bannor Starfist to describe savants who have access to their full immortal powers. “Ascending” can take place in one of three ways. The first (and intended) way is when a savant alpha joins with the pantheon lord who is their beta body. Daena Sheento joins with Hella to become the first ascendant in ‘Neath Odin’s Eye. As an ascendant she had the physical potential of a pantheon lord coupled with the mastery of a universal force.

The second way ascendance can take place are when a savant uses their tao-form or astral-body to overlap a creature with immort characteristics. Wren Kergatha did this with both Desiray Illkaren Felspar and with her mother Euriel Kergatha. In the events of Gaea’s Legacy, several savants do this with bodies created expressly for this purpose by Marna Solaris.

The third and last way a savant can ascend is by having their original physical body modified to take on immort characteristics. This happens to Bannor during the course of Gaea’s Legacy after his tao-inhabited body created by Marna is destroyed and his original body is heavily damaged.

Ascendants gain power over time and with experience. Daena, though her body was technically inferior to those possessed by the created ascendants was more powerful because her tao was in complete synchronis with her body.

See Also:  Felspar, Desiray Illkaren, Kergatha, Liandra {Wren} Idun-daughter

avatar — A creature who has been bonded to another through avatarism (c.f.)

—  B  —

Baronian — A race of created warriors whose true origins remain unknown. They are humanoid in nature but appear to be the product of an extensive breeding and isolation program. Baronian warriors and mages are renowned for their physical endurance, pain tolerance, and mental faculties. In addition to simply being physically strong and durable, Baronians also possess the ability to metabolize raw energy which can be used to power spells or even heal wounds.

Accounts of Baronian culture is that they are a slave race to a group of beings known only as the ‘masters’. Within the Baronian hierarchy, females are primarily considered chattel, with certain prominent members able to earn free status through outstanding service to the various war causes. What little is known about the Baronians was gleaned when a party of Protectorate warriors accompanied Vatraena Marna Solaris and her aides to the Kriar Homeworld of the Karanganoi. There they discovered a force of Baronians had over-run and enslaved the entire Kriar civilization. In return for information and cooperation, Tal Falor made an agreement with a group ten Baronian slave women to help them escape. Tal kept his word and these slaves were broken free. These females now work in the employ of Isis. Notably among this group is a female warmage named Luthice who is the blood sister of Senalloy who Corim Vale frees from Rakaar.

See Also:  Corresont, Senalloy Moirae, Eternity, energy, eternals, Isis, kriar, magic

battleblade — Something of a misnomer, all swords are designed for use in combat. A battleblade is a weapon designed for PROLONGED use in battle. Typical swords have a lifespan of only a few serious combats before breaking (or the edge blunting). Only specially tempered metals have enough resilience to retain their edge and rigidity for any significant amount of actual abuse. This is historically what set Saracen steel and the folded designs of Japanese samurai swords apart. A battleblade is weapon that has these resilient qualities.

See Also:  battlesword

battleform — A shape that can be assumed by certain high order immorts. Mass is accumulated from interdimensional storage, and the body of the immort becomes extremely dense (like metal). The immort becomes immune to most forms of normal weaponry and many bodily functions operate on different rules (the need to breath, bleeding is greatly decreased). Battleform grants incredible physical strength, but the mass and insensitivity make it unwieldy and useful only in a select number of situations.

battlestaff — Used to describe a staff that has been fitted with heavy metal shods, often installing cudgel balls, blades, or spikes into the ends of the weapon to make it more effective in combat.

battlesword — This is an alternate usage for battleblade. See battleblade.

belkirin — Combat grade rank in the Kriar military equal to a commander. See also Kriar Ranks.

See Also:  kriar

Bertrand Kirnath Valharesh —See Valharesh, Bertrand Kirnath.

betas — Betas (plural) usually refers to one of the pantheon lords. See Alphas.

biophase — A form of energy that can be tapped by the proper magical rituals. This energy is often used to dispel fatigue and reinforce the body. Mages utilize it to boost the efficiency of their spells.

Utilization of biophase has a strong euphoric effect that makes its use dangerous. Despite the hazards, biophase is one of the commonly manipulated powers in “carnal energies”.

See Also:  energy, magic

boreshafts — A term used by the Kriar when discussing the places where openings were made (or bored) from realspace into subspace for purposes of placing an interspacial/interdimensional gate interface.

See Also:  kriar

boresite — To the Kriar, this is a location where a gate is destined to be placed.

See Also:  kriar

Brondheim — A mountain peak in Asgard used as point of reference before the great battle with the High Jury.

—  C  —

Cassiopeia — A name used by Gaea to address Cassandra Kel’Ishtauri Felspar. It is assumed that this is Cassandra’s birth name as opposed to the name she goes by.

chimera — A monster found in various parts of the realms. It is a composite winged creature with three heads, that of a goat, great cat, and serpent.

Chrysandil — Quasar Lathaan Diliaysus’ trueborn first name. Gaea addresses her with this name instead of her alias Quasar. Gaea typically doesn’t use nicknames or aliases. For Quasar, this was particularly significant because it showed a relationship between her and Gaea that other Kriar do not share. Kriar being from outside of Eternity wouldn’t normally have any bond to Gaea but in Quasar’s case one did exist due to some events in Quasar’s past.

See Also:  Eternity, kriar

chyrith — An alien race said to be an offshoot of the Jyril. The Chyrith (allegedly) created the race of Baronians. These mythical creatures theoretically have the power to enslave and even destroy entire universes. See also Jyril.

Coormeer — A small Kingdom to the south and east of Ivaneth. Coormeer is known for its moderate climate and the fertileness of the hills spread through the heart of its territory. Coormeer makes most of its income as a nation that barters trade. They have a large seaport and a sizeable overland freight industry. Cormeer is also known for its vineyards, and kingdoms from all over Titaan import the different wines made there.

A few notable figures have dealings with or are part of Coormeer. The Justicar Sir Laramis De’Falcone hails from there and his family owns one of the major vineyards. Lord Mazerak Duquesne the savant of storms also hailed from Coormeer. Lastly, Princess Janai T’Evagduran of Malan holds the title of Baroness in Coormeer, and owns extensive lands there as a widow of one of the Kingdom’s nobles.

See Also:  Ivaneth, Malan, Titaan

Corresont, Senalloy Moirae — Baronian battle-nurse originally serving Rakaar Hespian Steelsheen. Senalloy’s true origins remain a mystery, however it is certain that she spent quite some time on Karanganoi homeworld (c.f.) gaining the trust and confidence of the Kriar indigenous there. She speaks the Kriar high tongue fluently which requires some ten to twenty cycles of study. Her knowledge of Kriar technology indicates a close relationship with someone possessing engineering skills.

As a battlenurse, Senalloy has extensive training in the treatment of magical and mundane wounds. As with most Baronians she has a fair degree of both magical and martial training. Even in her weakened state, she proved herself more than a match for Meridian Arcturan and would have killed him had Rakaar not interfered with her.

Baronian age is difficult to judge, and their race has a nominal lifespan measured close to five thousand cycles. Usually by the time they reach the upper limits of their effective life spans they have gone through renewal or otherwise extended their lives. Senalloy’s confidence, knowledge, and ability make her at least a millennium old. She could however be far older. Her blood sister Luthice (c.f.) who works as a covert operative for Isis is speculated to be close to 30,000 cycles old. If this is true, then it is likely that Senalloy is close to that age and thus ranked as a member of the elder elite.

See Also:  Isis, kriar

Corwin — Kingdom on the western border of Ivaneth. Biggest Kingdom (in terms of territory) on the continent of Sharikaar. Corwin is also the oldest settlement in Sharikaar. Corwin’s capital is Corwin city, a seaport with a population of just under 2 million people.

See Also:  Ivaneth

Cosmodarus — Two major cities in the Ring Realms bare the Cosmodarus name. The great city wherein the goddess Isis rules is often called Cosmodarus the city of magic. Another city bearing the same name is in the ribbon realms of the purple plains. It too is called Cosmodarus the city of magic. It is rumored that at one time Isis lived or hailed from the Cosmodarus out in border realms. She may have simply brought the name with her and forgot the other existed. There is often confusion when a person claims to be from Cosmodarus, as both places are home to some of the most skilled and talented adventurers in the Ring Realms. Wren Kergatha was born in the ribbon realm’s Cosmodarus. The Kergatha family are the manor lords of Cosmodarus.

See Also:  ascendant, Isis, Kergatha, Liandra {Wren} Idun-daughter, magic

Crowninshield, Elsbeth — Prime Counsel of the 27th Magiocracy of the Ring Realms. Elsbeth is one the two acknowledged living members of the elder elite. Elsbeth is the long-time foe of Aarlen Frielos, and the primary head of an isolationist movement that is fighting to keep magic and technology separate. Elsbeth joined the Shael Dal shortly after Koass made the decision to allow Aarlen Frielos work off her debt to society within the ranks of the Protectorate. Elsbeth claims she entered the Shael Dal in order to maintain certain standards, but it’s most likely she wants to keep an eye on her hated enemy. If Aarlen is caught in a breech of probation, it is likely Elsbeth will be there to make sure Koass knows.

Elsbeth is one of the most skilled mages known, and specializes in psychic manipulation otherwise known as ‘mind bending’. Like Aarlen, Elsbeth has the ability to time dive, but her skills are quite a bit less refined. Exact details are sketchy, but Elsbeth’s millenniums long feud with Aarlen is rumored to originate with the razing of one of the four core Ring Realms planets (presumably Elsbeth’s birthplace). The planet was subjected to a bombing that infected the inhabitants with a crippling disease. If this is indeed the case, it would also explain Elsbeth’s hatred of technology. There is some support for this story because it is rumored that in Elsbeth’s earlier days before she could alter her shape, she was both crippled and disfigured. The truth of this matter may never come to light as Elsbeth does not speak of her past but in generalities. As with Aarlen, Elsbeth’s exact age is difficult to pinpoint, but it is surmised she is about four to five millennia younger than Aarlen hence the difference in their powers and abilities.

See Also:  bit, Eternity, eternals, Frielos, Aarlen, magic

crunchfruit — A sweet juicy fruit with smooth red or green skins. Green ones tend to have a sour flavor. On earth, if someone saw you with a bag of these, they’d ask you for one of your apples.

cyber-unit — A cyber-unit is a portable computer typically carried in the field a cyber usually has an uplink to a more powerful ‘true’ cyber on Homeworld, but if communications are impaired they can function in stand-alone (non-networked) mode. They do not have personalities or any of the other features typical of Kriar organic ‘cyber’ life-forms.

See Also:  kriar

cybermed — Several types of cybermeds exist in Kriar technology. There are portable cyber-units whose specific functions are medical diagnosis and treatment. These are merely scaled down versions of the ‘noble class’ cybernetic entities which provide medical care on Homeworld. Cybermeds are the ‘upper upper class’ of cybers usually having the most advanced hardware (8096 - 32,768) dedicated cpus. These specialized computerized doctors can do nothing short of miraculous healing, and can perform cellular and genetic alterations at the atomic level.

A few cybermeds have become notable in Ring Realms history for their interaction with humans (and healing of same). One named Christian has been the ‘family’ doctor for house Felspar and Techstar for several decades. Another ‘retired’ cybermed named Dralthon has been instrumental in softening the technical assault by the Elsbeth’s Magocracy. It is said that Dralthon and Elsbeth are friends, but the Scarlet Mage denies this vehemently. Other people cite that Elsbeth has in recent years become extremely organized and no longer seems to rely on books or maps for reference. This suggests that she may even possess a cyber interface. Even if true, it is unlikely that anyone will ever get the technology hating mage to acknowledge the fact.

Mercedes, a privately owned cybermed, has made significant contributions to the political situation in the Ring Realms Trade Alliance.

See Also:  cyber-unit, Crowninshield, Elsbeth, kriar, Mercedes, magic, magocracy

—  D  —

D’klace — The D’klace are actually a guild of assassins for hire. They are retained by the various kingdoms usually in a deterrent role much the way weapons of mass destruction are stockpiled in the modern world.

The D’klace are actually a branch of the “all-world’s” or “masters” guild lead by half-god drow Adorne Doonweir. Membership in any branch of the overworld guild is a measure of status because of the rigorous initiation that must be passed in order to join. There is a close association between the masters guild and Dream Merchants. The rogue Kriar, Theln Azygos, is said to have ties in both organizations.

See Also:  kriar

D’Shar, T’Gor — Active member of the Shael Dal wielding the Shaladen blade Korvel.

See Also:  Korvel, shaladen

D’Shar, Tigress — Active member of the Shael Dal wielding the honorary shaladen Swiftwind.

See Also:  shaladen

D’Tarin, Algernon — Active member of the Shael Dal wielding the Shaladen blade Warstar. One of the nine Lords of Ivaneth, and master of the East wood. One of the core members of the Band of the Crescent Moon dating back to their first treks in Silissia. Algernon has one daughter, Val’Siden, currently married to Bertram Tarrantil.

See Also:  Ivaneth, shaladen

daergons — The Kriar political group who followed the warrior Daergon Surr. This group was in power when the Kriar first came into conflict and consequently lost a war to the Jyril. The tactics of the Daergons were also the cause of the Protectorate war. Though technically the Kriar did beat the eternals while under the command of the Daergons, the victory is considered a loss because of the unacceptable cost of Kriar lives.

See Also:  Eternity, eternals, kriar

dasta — Kriar word that has no literal translation. It is used interchangeably in context when referring to named cliques, organizations, or groups of people. Dasta Daergon was the political affiliation of followers loyal to Daergon Surr. In another instance, Dasta Fabrista is the entire host of people and creatures who live on the Fabrista Homeworld.

See Also:  kriar

Delarn, Eladrazelle — One of the highest counsels on home world and personal friend of both Vatraena Solaris and Dame Gwensulin Techstar. Eladrazelle is a 2nd generation Kriar and one of the oldest Kriar on Fabrista Homeworld. She is a scientist specializing genetics, and essentially the ‘mother’ of the matrix technologies relied upon by almost all-living Kriar.

See Also:  kriar

demon — A generic term referring to any of a number of outer planes dwelling creatures created and utilized by the pantheon lords to wage war and intimidate lesser creatures.

dom’ista — Elvish honorific. Proper form of address for the King. The translation is ‘Father Star’—or ‘Stellar Father’. In this regard it is similar to the common Term—“sire”.

See Also:  elvish

draconians — The dragon race. In Gladshiem there are enough dragons to form a “community” structure. Tymoril and Kegara the two dragons which accompany Bannor on his adventures refer to dragonkind as a collective community.

See Also:  dragon, Tymoril

dragon — These magical reptiles take many forms, colors, and sizes and live throughout the Ring Realms. What more can be said about them that whole volumes of material haven’t addressed?

Draline Valharesh — See Vilesilencer, The.

drek — Drek (along with dren) are slang terms in the Ring Realms which refer to less than desirable material. A common usage: The drek has hit the windmill.

See Also:  dren

dren — Dren (along with drek) are slang terms in the Ring Realms that refer to undesirable material. A common usage: That’s a bunch of dren!

See Also:  drek

—  E  —

eh’san — Kriar language that has no literal translation. It is a military specific term that a subordinate uses to address a higher-ranking official. It is used in the same way as ‘sir’ is used to show respect. ‘Sir. Yes, sir!’

See Also:  kriar

elder — Used to describe creatures (usually humanoids) that have lived far longer than normal human life span. Any creature with more than 500 cycles of living is considered an elder. Many elves fall into this category.

elemental — In the broadest sense a creature that is manifestation or embodiment of one of the four elemental forces (stone, air, water, fire). Note that this extension is more or less metaphorical. Races such as Djinni and Efreeti are considered elementals (air and fire respectively). What gives them this distinction is their mastery of magicks which manipulate their respective element.

Elf — Elves are a race of creatures seen throughout magically endowed worlds of the Ring Realms. It is popularly believed they are the descendants of the elder race called the Silcanna (also known as the silver elves). The patron of the elves, Carellion Lothlarian, is rumored to not be a pantheon lord but is instead one of the Silcanna. This has not been substantiated however. The elf race is noted for the longevity of its members and their close relationship to magic and nature. The elves themselves are split into several distinct hereditary branches (sub-races) that each have their own language and customs. These are the Gray-elves, the High-elves, Wood-elves (faeries), Mountain or ‘Valley’ elves, and Sea-elves.

There is no particular racial bias or prejudices between these races and their dialects are derivative enough from each other that all of them can understand and communicate at a rudimentary level. Of the five, the aquatic semi-amphibious Sea elves are the furthest removed from the original hereditary strain and by necessity are the group that has the least interaction with both other elves and humans.

Elves are typified as having the same approximate stature as humans, but having a tendency to be slimmer and more fine boned. Their ears and eyes are slightly larger in proportion to their faces than is typical for a human. The ear cartilage is upswept and pointed, this trait being most noticeable in Wood-elves. The eyes of elves have a luminous phosphorescent quality that is noticeable even in daylight. This ‘glowing’ quality enables elves to have exceptional vision at night, being able to resolve reasonable details in approximately half the light necessary for human viewing. Elven vision is tuned to longer ranges (being able to resolve at 40 feet what a human does at 20). This trait is at the sacrifice of close-up vision. As a consequence, Elven script tends to be quite large and their books rather thick. They often employ vision aides when it is necessary to read smaller print in any volume.

The other characteristic of elves is their lifespan, which is typically over five hundred cycles. The gray elves are the most long-lived of elves, their lifespans extending well beyond two millennia. In fact, it is unknown exactly how long they do live because few that become great elders ever die of natural causes.

See Also:  magic

elven — Of or being related to Elves. see Elf.

elves — Plural of Elf. see Elf.

elvish — The language of Elves. Elves have several distinct dialects, most notable among these being the high tongue spoken by the gray elf nobility. The most widely spoken dialect is called Dikreen or Dikreeni which simply means ‘dialogue’ or ‘speech’. The various tribes of wood, sea, and mountain elves speak variants of Dikreeni.

energy — (generic) of or pertaining to any spectral force which can perform work (change states in matter).

eternals — The seventh generation Eternals were evolved for the purpose of fighting of invasions of ‘foreign bodies’ and the cancerous infestation of germane life (temporal ‘trouble makers’). Each entity was imbued with complete mastery over a certain element, energy or power, and lesser control over other forms.

Since the matrix provided more raw power than even than Eternals could control, the eternals were given the ability to surrogate their powers to other creatures. This surrogation is commonly referred to as avatarism. This same technique is practiced by the deities of the outer planes, and in some instances by grand magi. The surrogates of the eternals were dubbed the ‘Shael Dal’. The number of surrogates each Eternal can have is unknown. The time guardians, who also possess this power, and have been known to have as many of sixty-one functioning surrogates at one time. See Eternity. See also time guardians.

Roster

Name: Koass Vinax

Title: Prime Commander

Shaladen: Sharonsheen

Power: Reality

Name: Foross Kerall

Title: Strategic Commander

Shaladen: Stellaraac

Power: Shape Shifting

Name: Nethra Argos

Title: Tactical Commander

Shaladen: Nova

Power: Space

Name: Garn Ellon

Title: Tactical Leader

Shaladen: Warstar

Power: Time

Name: Sroth Mephista

Title: Covert Ops Leader

Shaladen: Korvel

Power: Life Energy

Name: Areth Jalt

Title: Intelligence Ops

Shaladen: Starsong

Power: Sound

Name: Aurra Levon

Title: Psych Tactics

Shaladen: Starwind

Power: Mind/Control

Name: Yi Esperantil

Title: Chronal specialist

Shaladen: Krelstar

Power: Time

Name: Zarthel Benwarr

Title: Magic/Tech spc

Shaladen: Pulsar

Power: Mind/Forces

Name: Jarella Kepsforia

Title: Security specialist

Shaladen: Cataract

Power: Dimensions

Name: *Culavera Sajaer

Title: Tactical specialist

Shaladen: Jemfire

Power: Reality/energy

Name: **Leto

Title: Satieroth Tactical specialist

Shaladen: Cybersong

Power: Fire/energy

*Culavera is one of the oldest living beings in the universe, and the only creature surviving of the third generation of the Protectorate. Her powers are in actuality greater than those possessed by the prime commanders. Unfortunately, she cannot exert herself at those levels for very long.

**Leto is a product of the fifth generation of the protectorate, and, like Culavera, much older than the rest of their peers. Leto suffers from energy ‘seizures’ as a result of not being sufficiently synchronized with the eternal’s power matrix.

Roster of Shael Dal (surrogates)

Name: Koass Vinax

Title: Prime Commander

Shaladen: Sharonsheen

Surrogate(s): Megan Vinax

Name: Foross Kerall

Title: Strategic Commander

Shaladen: Stellaraac, Snowfire*

Surrogate(s): Aarlen Frielos, Beia Targallae, Corim Vale

Name: Nethra Argos

Title: Tactical Commander

Shaladen: Nova

Surrogate(s): Talorin Falor

Name: Garn Ellon

Title: Tactical Leader

Shaladen: Warstar

Surrogate(s): Algernon D’Tarin

Name: Sroth Mephista

Title: CovertOps Leader

Shaladen: Korvel, Swiftwind*, Blightscythe*, Flameripper*

Surrogate(s): T’Gor D’Shar, Tigress D’Shar, Vulcindra Skybane, Suda Nightrhmer

Name: Areth Jalt

Title: Intelligence Ops

Shaladen: Starsong

Surrogate(s): Arabella

Name: Aurra Levon

Title: Psych Tactics

Shaladen: Starwind

Surrogate(s): Elsbeth Crowninshield

Name: Yi Esperantil

Title: Chronal specialist

Shaladen: Krelstar

Surrogate(s): Adwena Swiftwing

Name: Zarthel Benwarr

Title: Magic/Tech spc

Shaladen: Pulsar, Darkbane*, Golnir*

Surrogate(s): Zedar Cloudseeker, Aleesha Cloudseeker, Bertram Terrantil

Name: Jarella Kepsforia

Title: Security spc

Shaladen: Cataract

Surrogate(s): Gwenafra Tristar

Name: Culavera Sajaer

Title: Tactical spc

Shaladen: Jemfire

Surrogate(s): Terra Karlin-Falor

Name: Leto Satieroth

Title: Tactical spc

Shaladen: Cybersong

Surrogate(s): Damrosil Terranath

*Shaladen names so marked are “honorary” imbued weapons.

See Also:  D’Tarin, Algernon, Falor, Talorin {Tal}, sharonsheen, shaladen, Targalle, Beia {Regaura} (Queen)

Eternity — The name ‘Eternity’ is only a concept. However, it is popularly addressed as a living, breathing creature, and is often worshipped as a god. Eternity itself is actually a composite consciousness. It is the pooled psychic resonances of all living things. It is suspected that, after the first expansion, outside influences planted the seeds that would eventually develop into the super-consciousness that is Eternity.

One speculation points to a “Father” and “Mother” force (Alpha and Gaea) as being the originators of these seeds. These two beings are cited throughout the records made during the early development of the Protectorate, but their actual presence is never recorded. These two creatures are also cited as the progenitors of the First Ones, the race from which the original stock, and many later generations of universal protectors originated.

During the earliest stages of evolution, Eternity was little more than an infinitely large amoeba with a few basic responses. The thoughts of the myriad forms of life that were evolving began to etch neural paths on this receptive blank slate. At some point, the populations of life grew large enough that the resonances activated the ‘seeds’. These twelve gigantic gems began to pick up and enhance the neural responses, and themselves take on the sophistications necessary for stimulus and response.

As Eternity evolved, lifeforces were drawn into the matrix of gems. A residual imprint of these first primitive creatures created the first evolutionary steps in Eternity’s progress toward awareness.

A billion cycles ago, both Eternity and life had diversified to a point where major changes could be undergone. During these changes, creatures began to be physically drawn into the matrix. From that point, these creatures became Eternity. The composite awareness saw all of time and space as a body. The body lacked defense mechanisms, and this fusion of living and unliving essences could sense wounds that threatened the health of ‘the body’.

Forces brought the ‘seeds’ to a central ‘womb’ to focus the consciousness. With this centralization, further powers became realized, and development increased in speed. Hosts were cultivated from the vastness of evolving creatures; these would be the anti-bodies that would attack and destroy infestations, and heal wounds.

The matrix continued to assimilate living creatures; its power multiplying as it grew.

Initially, twenty-four hosts came into being; two were linked to each seed. These hosts were incubated, forged, and evolved to fulfill special roles in the universal defense. These were the first Guardians.

These first creatures were far less refined than the Eternals and Guardians that evolved later. They did have a purpose and a design. They built defenses around the womb, and created the pocket dimension Siderous Chronous.

These first defenders oversaw the choosing of their predecessors. They learned ways to make them stronger and more durable, having longer life-spans and broader capabilities.

The second-generation Guardians were more in tune with the matrix, capable of tapping into its now-immense powers themselves, physically and mentally superior to their parent races. Their life-spans were greatly extended, some ten times that of their parent races. These were the generation of savants that would eventually shape the ‘seed-womb’ into Eternity’s Heart. The ‘seeds’ were faceted, and refined, to amplify their consciousness-projecting powers. They amassed the knowledge and powers to build defenders far more advanced than themselves. At this time, the defenders were broken into two groups: The savants and the warriors. The savants were to evolve mentally, with consciousness that extended through time and space. The warriors would tap directly into the cosmic forces now funneling through the matrix.

The Protectorates third generation was fraught with disappointments. Many forms of life did not survive the rigorous incubation processes, or the radical alterations in their physical and mental structures. The projects of this generation were shelved as too ambitious after 47 of 48 subjects died through body failure or instability. The sole survivor (Culavera) was stasised as a borderline case, and took part later in the scaled-down mutations.

By the time the scaled-down projects were underway, the second generation Guardians were nearing the end of their lives. The survivor of generation three, and two other volunteers, underwent the fourth generation treatments. All three came through alive, but mentally shattered. Only Culavera, who was the result of the far more ambitious 3rd generation group, was salvageable for further treatment. Culavera was put into stasis pending further review.

Three of the second-generation guardians had died by the time the fifth generation process went into affect. One volunteer (Leto) went through the process and survived physically and mentally intact, but undershot expectations for the desired matrix synthesis. The subject was put in stasis for review by his predecessors.

All but three of the second-generation guardians were dead when the sixth evolution forging was undertaken. Five subjects underwent the rigorous process, and all survived. Only one second-generation guardian survived to see the seventh evolution, which birthed five time Guardians and ten Eternals. He died before the final annealing of the subjects was completed.

The seventh generation Eternals and Guardians was a near perfect synthesis of power, longevity, and durability. Possessing hardened mindsets, expanded mental power and flexibility, they evolved into the Eternals and Guardians known today, about 10 million cycles ago.

See Also:  eternals

ether — The somewhat dated notion of a fundamental fabric that binds matter together—in other words the vacuum where things AREN’T. (The author notes that its a dated concept in light of quantum theory. However, since most of the readers don’t have a doctorate in physics—we’ll stick with easier concepts.)

ethereal — Typically it means to be insubstantial. It however can be used to indicate ‘out-of-phase’ state. The Ethereal plane is an alternate interpretation of real space much like the astral. See astral plane.

etherlock — An etherlock is caused when a time-driver, mage, or device causes the probability fields in a specific area to become static. Essentially all matter in the target area is forced to assume the same inertia, temporal phase, and energy potential as designated by the ‘lock’. This has the effect of rooting an area in time and space absolute to either a specific set of coordinates or a given vector. The etherlock prevents any kind of matter or time transference within its confines. The process takes a tremendous amount of power, and is the most demanding discipline practiced by a time-diver.

See Also:  energy, magic, temporal

—  F  —

Fabrista — The race of Kriar occupying the ‘Fabrista’ Homeworld.

See Also:  kriar

Falor, Talorin {Tal} — Talorin Falor is one of the more storied figures in the Ring Realms, a warrior with a truly mythical ability to find himself in the ‘hotspots’ of legends in the making. Tal’s history is a complex knot of twists and turns that involves many enterprises and tragedies. After a few seasons spent treasure hunting, Tal retired while still young to invest his gold and become a businessman. He ended up in the unlikely role as the proprietor of a brothel, an enterprise he shared with his adventuring partner Kaas Windsbane. The two men, while running a house of ill repute, were known as the ‘softest touches in town’. They never bound their girls to contracts, nor did they ask more than a token percentage of any fees collected. In fact, the two men even helped their ‘girls’ get ‘legitimate’ work should the seamy life no longer appeal. Perhaps it was this low-pressure approach that made their business so successful. The endeavor was not to last, Tal grew bored and started looking for adventure again. He took up with king Tradeholm’s eastern front regulars as an experienced captain. It was during this tour of duty that he met and fell in love with an Elven woman named Deirde Silkere. Tal continued his borderland tour and kept house with Deirde for several seasons. What might have been an idyllic life for the warrior turned tragic when raiding parties from the east realm overran several villages and cities along the border. Tal and the troops under his command were quick to respond, and over a period of days drove back the enemy. It was during this conflict that Tal showed mercy to one of the enemy commanders. An act of altruism which would see an entire village of elves sacked as revenge, and result in the loss of his wife of only a few seasons. This experience would harden the man for the many adventures to come.

After this harsh lesson, Tal’s tactics and demeanor took on a darker tone, the bitterness over his loss one not quickly forgotten or left behind. He went back to active adventuring and campaigning now in a more serious vein. It was shortly after that he met up with members of the Band of the Crescent Moon, and learned more of the Death Spectacles run by Meridian Arcturan. He met Beia Targallae and T’Gor D’Shar and began assisting them in shutting down the arenas. It was during this time that Tal began adding to his fighting skills, learning to combat the arena pit fighters on their own ground. He began studying and mastering the harsh art of the Dan Sadad.

During the cycles that followed Tal would be involved in the recovery of the amulet of Tarkimaar, he would fight all manner of creatures from adamantium golems to skellar. He would take part in the revival of the Eternals slain by Garfang, and help organize many of the quests to recover the Shaladen swords. He himself would recover the shaladen blade Warstar. He would foray repeatedly in the cities of Dream Merchants and even fight the rogue elements belonging the deposed Kriar leader Daergon Surr.

Tal’s hard heart would soften and there would be romantic interludes with Desiray Illkaren (then single) and Dominique Ariok. However, it was a fellow Shael Dal, Terra Karlin whom he often adventured with that eventually captured his eye and heart. After a courtship of several seasons, they would become the second married couple in the Shael Dal (T’Gor and Tigress being the first).

Tal’s adventures would continue. He became a key figure in the Shael Dal, the indomitable spirit to succeed against all odds. He would prove instrumental in several missions including a special cooperative mission with the Fabrista Kriar to Karanganoi homeworld, where they would learn of the Baronians and their mysterious ‘masters’.

Tal remains active in the Shael Dal and few would dispute his being their spiritual core. He and his wife Terra continue their efforts to remove all traces of the Arcturan death spectacles. Tal created several schools for adventurers, that serve as sources of income as well as recruiters for the various causes that he takes part in.

See Also:  eternals, Felspar, Desiray Illkaren, kriar, shaladen

Falor, Terra Karlin — Active member of the Shael Dal wielding the Shaladen blade Jemfire.

See Also:  shaladen

Felspar, Annawen Kel’Ishtauri — Annawen is the silent sister to Cassin. The two sisters are as different from one another as they are alike. Where Cassin represents restraint, logic, and intellect, Annawen represents hedonism, creativity, and passion. Annawen is extremely promiscuous, outgoing, and spontaneous. While Cassin plans things down to the last detail, Annawen simply makes it up as she goes. Each sister represents the pure forms of the extremes that might occur in a normal personality. This is why Annawen is so good at magic. It is a skill that requires confidence, the slightest shred of doubt can ruin or cripple a spell. Annawen literally has no worries, and no fear or compunction about the consequence of her actions. By that token, she has nothing holding her back. This is, of course, why she has problems with control.

Though law and rules are not the kind of thing Annawen would normally like, she finds the idea of twisting rules to her own ends intriguing. Her creative and exhibitionistic nature is extremely well suited to both a courtroom and the stage. She would be perfectly suited to them except for the fact that she does not speak aloud. This of course, keeps her out of trial law in all but the most sophisticated territories where telepathy is tolerated as a means of communication. She does on occasion call on Cassin to be her ‘voice’ as she is in most of their everyday life. Cassin typically refuses most of her sister’s requests because she feels Annawen should ‘find her own voice’. Being the eldest, they are the big sisters to all the Felspar family children. They are often bailing their brothers and sisters out of trouble. Annawen’s interest in law is quite valuable for resolving many of the situations that arise.

Annawen feels that Cassin is an errant part of her that has run away. The fact that she cannot function overlong without her troubles her. She harbors a secret (not so secret to her sister) desire for them to unify into one person. Cassin is extremely bothered by this desire in her sister, likening it to being ‘consumed’. Despite their oppositeness, they are as close as two sisters can be and NOT be one person. Becoming married to Sindra and Drucilla Frielos has been an extremely satisfying experience for Annawen. Her pairing with Drucilla provides a balance in her life that Cassin was unable to provide.

The Frielos twins are specialists too, but it is not along the right-brain left-brain aspects. Drucilla represents the passive aspect of their pairing (to Sindra’s aggressive) which is well suited to Annawen’s personality and tendencies. Cassin and Annawen are extremely active and well traveled. They are adored on Homeworld. Elsewhere they are regarded with respect, and in many cases with fear and suspicion.

Elsbeth Crowninshield considers the twins, and Annawen in particular, two of the greatest threats to the integrity of magic. Despite herself, Elsbeth has been unable to view these two as enemies though they embody the very essence of what she fears (the merger of magic and technology). Whether by luck, or through their empathy, the twins knew it was essential to make sure they became close to this elder elite. A campaign several years in the making got them into the good graces of the red-haired woman buying them safety from her war on technology.

After an encounter with Corim Vale, and his metapathic talent, Annawen has become rather fixated on the handsome man. The fact that he’s in love with Dulcere Starbinder is not at all troubling to her. She knows she’ll get her way eventually… she always has in the past…

See Also:  Crowninshield, Elsbeth, Frielos, Drucilla, Frielos, Sindra, magic, telepathy

Felspar, Caldorian — Son of Desiray Illkaren Felspar and Cassandra Kel’Ishtauri. Cassandra is the “Foathra” or the surrogate of a female / female coupling who provides the male genes. Caldorian is has an identical twin brother Sebenreth’Kar Felspar.

Caldorian is currently married to Bronawyn ShadowStalker and has two daughters: Cassopia and DonaRae.

See Also:  Felspar, Desiray Illkaren, Shadowstalker, Bronawyn

Felspar, Cassandra Kel’Ishtauri — Cassandra is one of the only surviving members of the first incarnation of the Band of the Crescent Moon. She has traveled and adventured extensively throughout the Realms during her 91 years of life. At one time she was engaged to be married to Gondor Degaba who, by a quirk of fate, was changed from a male to a female by the Aesir pantheon lord Loki. In Gondor’s new identity as a female things got pretty complicated as he and she had already managed to conceive children. Cassandra ended up not being able to handle the relationship and the two of them grew apart but continued to raise their daughters Cassin and Annawen. Cassandra went on to marry the elder mage Loric Felspar.

After the adoption of Cassandra Kel’Ishtauri by house Techstar, it became a fashion among the Kriar nobility to start interacting with the humanity and skilled mages in particular. The ability of magic to overcome something Kriar science could not opened many eyes, and sparked intense interest in learning the secrets of magic. Also, humans being young and impressionable, made them excellent protégés. The Kriar being empaths, derive a great deal of satisfaction being around creatures who still experience excitement and passion. They can feel ‘vicariously’ through their empathy, emotions and sensations that they themselves have become numb to due to hundreds of millennia of life.

The Techstar family has profited enormously by Cassandra’s addition to their ranks, as the mage’s ‘star status’ among Kriar is worth a great deal in favors, media deals, and other ‘celebrity status’ benefits. This, of course, certainly hasn’t hurt Cassandra’s popularity among the members of her adoptive family.

See Also:  Felspar, Loric, kriar, magic

Felspar, Cassin Kel’Ishtauri — Cassin is the steadfast twin of the union. She represents all the things that Annawen is not. She is steady, logical, and dedicated to rational thought. Cassin is extremely close to her Mother (Foathra) Dorian. Dorian is Cassin’s paternal progenitor. Early in her life, Dorian was in fact Gondor (a man) and engaged to Cassandra Kel’Ishtauri. A extremely unfortunate encounter with a vampire and a the humor of a Loki resulted in a man being placed in woman’s body. By shape changing, he could regain his normal male form, but the magic would eventually wear off and he would again become ‘Dorian’. It was in his shape-changed state that Dorian (Gondor) fathered the twins Cassin and Annawen. As a way of keeping things from getting confused, they coined the term ‘Foathra’ for a female that had sired children.

There are other Foathrings in the Felspar family, but Cassin and Annawen were the first. Initially, Cassandra thought she could deal with her husband-to-be having become female, but later found she couldn’t handle it. Gondor also had problems having thought like a male for 50 odd years, now being a female and (via hormones) beginning to think like a female. The two of them grew apart but raised Cassin and Annawen as a family. Cassin married Sindra by ‘default’. She thought the pairing with the Frielos twins was a bad and unsafe endeavor. Only later did she come to really appreciate the benefits of being spoiled by an elder. Now, many years into the marriage, she has fully embraced their relationship and enjoys all of its benefits. Cassin plays the passive role to Sindra’s aggressive one, and is content to satisfy the needs of her sometimes demanding mate.

Cassin is much more involved in technology and more technically savvy than her sister. In that aspect, she complements her sister well, who is extremely magic savvy. Working together the twins can excel in practically any culture.

See Also:  Frielos, Sindra, Ishtarvariku, Dorian Degaba, magic

Felspar Clan — The structure of the Felspar clan is a complicated enough subject to merit its own entry. Loric Felspar’s permissiveness, the pervasiveness of telepathy, the extended life span of immorts, and promiscuousness created by the ability to shape change and empathically “reverb” (see empathic reverb. ) have created a tangled knot of a family tree that would have the most dedicated genealogist weeping. The root of the family’s complexity primarily comes from the three house matriarchs: Cassandra Kel’Ishtauri, Desiray Illkaren, and Dorian Degaba Ishtarvariku. Immediately, one wonders why Dorian is included on this list because she is not married to Loric. Dorian went through a permanent gender change. At an earlier point in her life, she was a man, Gondor Degaba. During that time she married Cassandra (technically, she is still married to her?). So before this explanation starts, it’s already taken on complications!

Three Squared To understand the primary complexity one must understand that our three matriarchs are really not gender specific. They can be female or male, able to sire or birth. This is exactly what has happened. Dorian has fathered (or foathrad) children with both Cassandra and Desiray. Each of them has done the same with her and each other for a total of six combinations as depicted below:

==========================

(f) Dorian + Cassandra

(f) Dorian + Desiray

(f) Cassandra + Desiray

(f) Cassandra + Dorian

(f) Desiray + Cassandra

(f) Desiray + Dorian

==========================

There are children from each of these unions. In the “official” histories, these children retained the surname of the foathra. This created unnecessary complications in creating a chronicle, so the surname Felspar was attributed to all of them. One can see this issue from both sides, saying the making the name the same complicates differentiating who belongs to whom. Granted. However, tracking fifty odd names is hard enough without trying to untangle relationships at the same time!

Take it from the top Since Loric is the house patriarch, his direct descendants should be listed first. With two wives he has two lines of inheritance:

Loric as Sire

Cassandra Desiray

=============== ===============

+ Celek Farveth

+ Lorrik

+ Radian

=============== ===============

+ = Triplets

As one can see, Loric’s part of the tree is quite modest (in comparison to the rest). It’s from this part on that the mind begins to swim:

Matriarchal Interrelationships

Cassandra as Sire

Desiray Dorian

========== ==========

Caldorian+ Kassandra+

Sebenreth+ Dorrian+

========== ==========

Desiray as Sire

Cassandra Dorian

========== ==========

Maarina Darin’Kel*

Eviria*

========== ==========

Dorian as Sire

Cassandra Desiray

========== ==========

Annawen + Leandra

Cassin +

========== ==========

+ denotes identical twins

* denotes paternal twins

One might note that there is an inordinate occurrence of twins in this family. That is neither accidental or natural… in most of the cases the condition was egged on by magic.

But wait there’s more… Further complications are added to the tree when Dorian takes a husband (Brin Ishtarvariku) and Desiray takes a second husband (Bertram Terrantil). Bertram was already married to Thamara Narrimar. Add to this, dalliances with two Valkyries (Megan and Adwena), Marna Solaris (the Kriar matriarch), and the pantheon lord Isis. Now, the picture takes on truly Dionysian characteristics. ((We haven’t even gotten to grand children yet!!!)) Was everyone sleeping around??? Well, in a word…yes. Didn’t this cause problems…??? Well, of course. Jealousy and drama abound. For those following along, do remember that most of these people are in their 70’s and 80’s. At the time when most of the stories of the Ring Realms take place Dorian and Cassandra are celebrating the 50th anniversary of their marriage. Despite this advanced age, through various magicks these individuals are still physically in their 20’s and as typically randy as beautiful talented brilliant people usually are.

Another factor to consider is that everyone discussed so far has telepathic ability. This factor alone instills a level of trust and permissiveness not experienced in ordinary mundane relationships. Partners don’t have to wonder whether they are still loved—the emotion can be discerned, confirmed, and so on. Also, its really, really tough to cheat in house of telepaths. It is far easier (and safer) to get permission than it is to ask forgiveness. [Granted, this is the opposite of how it ordinarily goes… but you’ve probably never had a loremage with immense magical powers pissed at you. She will make you pay for your transgressions. She has the imagination, the desire, and inclination to make life intensely uncomfortable. Worse, there’s nowhere you can run… she can teleport, and she’ll find you…] Anyways, over the course of five decades sharing was not an uncommon occurrence. It helps to understand that at different times Desiray, Cassandra, and Dorian each maintained separate identities as males that essentially had their own distinct relationships. Ah, the benefits (complexities) of shape shifting…

Miscellaneous Couplings

Dorian / Brin

====================

Rindar+

Jaraed+

(f) Desiray / Adwena

====================

Siriena

(f) Dorian / Megan

====================

Ralani

Silvia

With fifty cycles invested in relationships, children are bound to find partners, get married and have children. In this genealogy, you will see a number of female / female marriages. This is something of a side affect of the interrelationship of the matriarchs. Shape changing creates a lot of potential in partners… in a world of magic and star hopping, the choices are many and varied. However, it just works out that sometimes the best person to understand a woman is another woman… and when that woman can also be a man (or the partners can take turns in the male role… ) the imaginative readers can fill in the blanks…

2nd Generation Couplings

============

(1)Cassin +

Drucilla (f)

============

(None yet)

============

(2)Annawen

+ Sindra (f)

============

(None yet)

============

(3)Caldorian

+ Bronawyn

============

[Cassopia]

DonaRae

============

(4)Sebenreth

+ Jolandrin

============

(None yet)

============

(5)Darin’kel

+ Gwynned

============

Xander

Tristam

============

(6)Everia +

Luthice

============

(None yet)

(1): If there can be said to be any contention between the twins it is grounded on the issue of children. There has been considerable pressure from Grandma Frielos to see some bouncing half-Kriar / half-Teritaani babies. However, both Drucilla and Sindra being playgirls (boys?) they really aren’t child-rearing types. Being independently wealthy, ultra-pampered grand elders, the likelihood of them changing a diaper is all but non-existent. Cassin in particular is adamant that BOTH parents should be INVOLVED in child rearing. Drucilla of course wants Cassin to bare the burden of carrying the baby to term (she’s MUCH too busy to be bothered with being pregnant…) that is the second part of the issue. There are other considerations that further complicate the discussion. It remains a sore point, and is the source of the first real friction this long running relationship has experienced.

(2): Annawen is the twin upon whom the real pressure is being applied by Aarlen to have children (mostly because she’s more easily swayed than Cassin). It is also because Annawen has a stronger desire for children. However, she agrees with Cassin (though to a lesser degree) about the issue of involvement of the parents in the raising of the children. Both sisters are aware of the cold and loveless upbringings fostered in the Frielos family, which is a stark contrast to the extremely close-knit Felspar Clan with multiple mothers fostering overlapping affection on all the children. It is that paradigm by which they gauge how their own families should be raised. Something that would be difficult with only partial participation of the parents.

(3): The decision to bare children was sparked largely by Bronawyn. The dark Silissian princess has always taken issue with her in-law Gwynned, the nosy, judgmental, stuck-up, cleric of Isis living down the hall. This contention grew out of a basic argument of how such a “plain ordinary commoner” would rate one of the most beautiful men a woman could set eyes on i.e. Darin’kel (whom Bronawyn had always fancied but was never able to get the attention of). The ongoing upwomanship between these two would make a good story thread in a soap- opera. One of the requirements of Gwynned’s allegiance to the church of Isis was to bear at least one child, and teach them in the ways of the church. Gwynned and Darin were having problems conceiving. During one sharp- tongued dinner conversation Bronawyn was nettling Gwynned, suggesting that the reasons for their problems was simple frigidity and her not being “woman” enough to bear children. There were undertones about boyishness, etc. This trading of barbs escalated, with the remark about “wondering what a reptile knew about having babies anyway—they lay eggs after all…” Through a course of events one could only attribute to soap opera dynamics it became a race to see who could conceive first. Gwynned had a head start, but Bronawyn was determined to show her up… reptile indeed! Bronawyn did conceive first, a fact which she lorded over Gwynned for some time thereafter. This was also a source of kidding between the brothers about who had more of the “right stuff” but it was not taken as seriously as between the two women.

(4): Seb and Jol are a very laid-back pair. Jolandrin is a simple girl used to being in the wilderness and has still has a way to go develop the sophistication of the others in this wild family. She has a good heart though and plenty of libido. There’s no rush (in their minds) even though momma Desiray has been dropping strong hints that her other son should get off his duff and make some grand kids!

(5): The relationship between Gwynned and Darin’kel is epic in its own right. Starting with a heated conflict between Gwynned and Everia. Everia is VERY possessive of her brother and had no desire at all to share her paternal twin with anyone—period. Add to this that the marriage between Gwynned and Darin was obligatory (it was ordered by the church after Darin was admitted to the ranks of the Sovereigns). This thorny situation was made worse by Gwynned’s dismay and dismissal of the Felspar clan’s “perverted” family interrelations. Carrying around those kind of thoughts in a house full of telepaths is bound to cause friction—which it did. Gwynned finally lightened up after she was given telepathy and began to understand the intricacies of shape-changing and empathic reverbs.

(6): The relationship between the Baronian war-witch and Everia is a complex knot involving her brother Darin, Luthice, and a number of events that would take several chapters of a book to do proper service to. Simply, it was a relationship that went hot-cold-hot-cold-hot-cold—something that was a source of confusion and frustration for Everia and simple irritation for Luthice. In general, Baronians lead cold passionless lives of duty with little other emotions save anger and blood-lust to warm their emotional pallet. Being creatures of war they have strong libido and a desire to reproduce. In any event, Desiray had approached Luthice to see if she could receive some tutelage in spying arts. (Elders who are great mages are not uncommon, but elders with vast experience in espionage are considerably more rare.) Luthice and Desiray met an accord, and in the Baronian’s shuttling back and forth to train Desiray she ran across Darin’kel. (Darin’kel makes women regardless of age stop and stare.) Being a rather forward elder, she made some advances on the boy which the possessive Everia immediately tried to rebuff. Luthice eventually lost interest in Darin, he was married and boringly true to his wife Gwynned. However, Everia was much like him in a lot of regards, and completely unattached. Luthice bribed Desiray into “giving” her Everia. What ensued after that was a cat-and-mouse chase that went on for cycles. Eventually, Everia came to care for Luthice and they were engaged. Children? The grandmas are waiting with baited breath drooling over the prospect of child that has both Desiray’s enhanced genes and that of the war-evolved Baronians. Time will tell.

The main relationships are chronicled in the tables above but they are of course not the full extent of the allies and close-knit trysts that have formed over the decades. There are Gabriella and her children. There is Bertram and his wives. First Thamara who he later divorces. Later Bertram marries the daughter of Algernon D’Tarin, Valsiden who then by association becomes Desiray’s new sister-wife. There are pantheon lords, eternals, Kriar, savants…oh my. Enough material for a story or two at least?

See Also:  D’Tarin, Algernon, Felspar, Desiray Illkaren, Felspar, Everia, Felspar, Loric, Felspar, Annawen Kel’Ishtauri, Felspar, Caldorian, Felspar, Cassandra Kel’Ishtauri, Felspar, Cassin Kel’Ishtauri, Felspar, Darin’kel, kriar, Shadowstalker, Bronawyn

Felspar, Desiray Illkaren — Desiray Illkaren Felspar, also known as Whitelock, is one of the core members of the Band of the Crescent Moon. She is one of the “three matriarchs” of family Felspar (Cassandra Kel’Ishtauri and Dorian Degaba Ishtarvariku being the other two). Desiray has had a long and sordid history as a thief. Her adventurers in Silissia and later in quests against Hellzan, Surr, and the Dream Merchants made her fortunes which she turned to the task of building a network of guilds. Her skills as a thief are renowned through Sharikaar as is her merciless reputation. In her later years, this reputation softened considerably when she married Loric Felspar. She became gentler still after the advent of children.

Desiray was the personal patron of Sireth, who in turn was the patron of Liandra Kergatha. Desiray and Liandra initially share a mutual enmity toward one another that almost ends in them killing each other. Later, they grow closer and Desiray takes on a role as Wren’s surrogate mother. In an attempt to shield both Desiray and Liandra, Gaea alters Desiray so that she can become Liandra’s tao beta (meaning that they can join to become a single far more powerful being). In this form, Desiray and Liandra proved a reasonable match for even elder elite like the D’klace sisters Sindra and Drucilla.

See Also:  ascendant, Frielos, Drucilla, Frielos, Sindra, Felspar, Loric, Ishtarvariku, Dorian Degaba, Kergatha, Liandra {Wren} Idun-daughter

Felspar, Loric — Numinorian elder elite and patriarch of family Felspar. Loric is a renowned Ranger and grand lore-mage. He has two wives, Desiray and Cassandra. He has three children by blood (with Cassandra). Loric is the creator of many magical items and technologies. The most notable of which are the Krillar. His wife Desiray wields the krill sword and dagger, Khairhavhel and Khairhavkul. Cassandra and Dorian both used krill staves of his design.

Loric is one of the last generation of Numinor, an elder race that eventually destroyed itself in pursuit of the ultimate power of entropy once possessed by the first ones.

Loric was born approximately 90,000 cycles prior to the events chronicled in most of the stories taking place in the Ring Realms. He by far pre-dates the lives of Aarlen Frielos and Elsbeth Crowninshield. Being one of the few remaining creatures possessing “true-magic” he felt that he should have a say in the development or the corruption of magic and how it was being distributed by the pantheon lords. This led Loric down a path where he began trying to police the ancient lores. He developed powerful magicks and trained allies to help him in this venture. Despite their limited number and resources Loric and his followers became a growing irritation to many of the pantheon lords, as he “kept them in line” policing not only the spread of magic, but enforcing a certain amount of separation between the lords and their sources of demiurge. The hit-and-run gorilla tactics of the Krill warriors finally escalated into full fledged war and Loric and his followers were forced into hiding. He and his followers would go into seclusion for centuries at a time, spending the “cooling off” cycles in specially designed stasis chambers that Loric had secreted throughout the worlds of the Ring Realms. There were occasions when he spent as long as five millennia in stasis, the exact reasons for these extended submergences are unknown but there are at least four known periods when he went “underground” for several thousand cycles. It’s been speculated that he was in actuality sleeping off massive injuries to his body and spirit, but there is no evidence to support this theory. Upon each new emergence, he was stronger and more persistent in his desire to “clean up” the tyrannical dominion of the pantheon lords. Over the course of the millennia, the original desire to merely shepherd magic transformed into a one-man vendetta against the lords. It was in the latter portion of this war that Loric met and befriended Damay Alostar one of the great Kel’Varans. They undertook several quests to protect various members of the savant race scattered throughout the Realms. It was Loric’s eventual plan to gather up all the savants and turn them against the pantheon lords. In the middle of this plan, Damay soured on the idea fearing that they would in fact cause the destruction of savant kind rather than their preservation. This fundamental difference eventually resulted in their going their separate ways. In the interim, Loric had learned a great deal from the individual savants he had met, and had discovered intrinsic properties in the foundating power of Eternity. These new discoveries were integrated into the Krillar weaponry and the power turned against the pantheon lords in a renewed onslaught in order to force the lords to give up their possession of the “material plane” and constrain their activities to the outer dimensions. The conflict escalated quickly, and several lords were slain permanently by Loric’s new powers. The threat posed by the Numinorian created a situation where the pantheon lords would be forced to either comply and give up their possession of the core worlds, or cooperate and dismiss Loric from existence once and for all. The lords chose the latter, and in a massive battle the pantheon lords came together and in final battle corralled Loric and his followers and destroyed them all in a single entropic blast of demiurge.

In the aftermath of the conflict, it was a general consensus of the pantheon lords that they would all withdraw their primary influence to the outer planes, in order to prevent any further such conflicts. This was not only a direct result of Loric’s efforts but an increasing pressure from a number of other sources.

Unknown to the lords, Loric had invested his essence into a secluded location, placing it within one of the five great krillglobes of his creation. Several millennia later, Cassandra Kel’Ishtauri found the globe and discovered the great mage’s essence within. The lady mage used her powerful magics to recreate a body for Loric and place his essence within the shell, restoring the ancient Numinorian to life. This last violently forceful vacation had taken most of the fight out of the great mage, with the pantheon lords having withdrawn to the outer planes there really wasn’t much left to fight about. Loric spent a great deal of time in seclusion, healing, and regenerating his lost powers. In the meantime, Cassandra was fascinated by this powerful man, both by the possibility of gaining his lore, and learning from him, and the romantic idea of associating with this legendary figure. Loric was, of course, alone and lonely, Cassandra was hungry and enticing. Eventually, the youngster wore down the elder’s resistance and the two of them developed a more intimate relationship. They were finally engaged in 1074 N.I.S. after five years of persistence. They were finally married in 1079.

Loric is the patriarch of the clan. The gods tolerate his new existence but remain wary that he might start his old tricks again. He has three boys by Cassandra (born as triplets) Loric II, Radian, and Celek. He has a single son by Desiray (his second wife) named Farveth.

See Also:  Crowninshield, Elsbeth, Eternity, Frielos, Aarlen, Felspar, Desiray Illkaren, Ishtarvariku, Dorian Degaba, krill, magic

flutterbugs — Colorful delicate insects that start their life in a cocoon and initially hatch as many segmented plant eating worm. People on Earth just call them butterflies.

frell — Frell is a common curse in the Ring Realms. The compiler of the glossary leaves it up to the reader’s imagination as to what ‘frell’ refers to. It can be conjugated in a number of ways: That’s really frelled. What the frell?! You frelling made that up!

Frielos, Aarlen — Supreme Magestrix of the 4th Alliance territories. Engaged to Regaura Targallae. Aarlen’s exact age is unknown (even to her) but historians agree that she can be no less than 45,000 cycles old. This member of the grand elder elite is descended from Territaani branch of humanoid stock. Aarlen was magically and technically enhanced by her Father in order to create a living weapon. Abused and tortured throughout her childhood, she eventually turned on her Father who had already killed her mother and sister. Unfortunately for the then twelve cycle old Aarlen, the cycle of violence did not end there. Mishap, misfortune, and aggression over a span of years eventually turned the white-haired woman into a brutal killing machine. She became proficient in all the major martial and magical arts, and mastered many forms. The millenniums long series of bloody conquests she hacked out the territory of space now known as the fourth alliance.

During her rise to power she made many enemies, which include Elsbeth Crowninshield, Vulcindra Skybane, and the Trackazoid and Eddorian empires. During her thousands of cycles of life, Aarlen has begotten children for purposes of having agents under her direct control. She has thirteen acknowledged children still living. The Frielos family has some 12 recognized generations of relatives that number close to 75,000 members. Though it seems hard to believe, with a life that spans over 1000 generations, Aarlen’s distant relations likely number in the hundreds of millions.

See Also:  Crowninshield, Elsbeth, Ice Falcon

Frielos, Drucilla — Daughter of Aarlen Frielos. Elder elite and member of the D’klace guild of assassins. Being “into” everything, she even plays in an all-girl musical group with Luthice and Arabella. She is the silent sister to Sindra Frielos.

Something to note about Drucilla and her sister is the fact that while they are to a certain extent evil, and definitely self-serving, these two never became the unredeemable black that many of Aarlen’s creations became. This seems to be a deliberate happenstance on Aarlen’s part, presumably so that they would be more effective as spies and seductresses.

Drucilla is married to Annawen Kel’Ishtauri Felspar. The elder woman has been teaching Annawen the etiquette and protocols of the 4th alliance high court, as Annawen seeks to conduct law there.

See Also:  Frielos, Aarlen, Frielos, Sindra

Frielos, Sindra — Daughter of Aarlen Frielos. Elder elite and member of the D’klace guild of assassins. Being “into” everything, she even plays in an all-girl musical group with Luthice and Arabella. She is the speaking sister to Drucilla Frielos.

Something to note about Sindra and her sister is the fact that while they are to a certain extent evil, and definitely self-serving, these two never became the unredeemable black that many of Aarlen’s creations became. This seems to be a deliberate happenstance on Aarlen’s part, presumably so that they would be more effective as spies and seductresses.

Sindra is married to Cassin Kel’Ishtauri Felspar. Being the “voices” of the two sets of twins its not uncommon to see them paired with the other twin. Why they didn’t simply marry that way is still something of a mystery…

See Also:  Frielos, Aarlen, Frielos, Drucilla

—  G  —

Gaea — The name for the female creator-force. Legend has it that a coupling between Alpha and Gaea gave rise to all the living things in Eternity. Gaea is the patron of Wren Kergatha. She is known to many as the ‘green mother’ and there are many legends of this cosmic fertility goddess interacting with various heroes. The diaries of Wren Kergatha cite having met and received boons from this powerful immortal creature.

See Also:  ascendant, Eternity, Kergatha, Liandra {Wren} Idun-daughter

Genemar — CLASSIFIED. Sorry folks… not letting this one out. We have only Rakaar’s reference. ‘Creation run amok…’

[Detailed glossary entry to be revealed in the Infinity Annihilator.]

Gladshiem — The outer plane where Asgard, Niflheim, and the other realms ruled by the Aesir and Vanir can be found.

god — Generic term for the immortal pantheon lords and ladies who make their homes in the outer planes.

goddess — Generic term (female gender) for god. See god.

golems — Creatures made from inanimate materials which motivate and act as something alive. Some such creatures are autonomous, most are not. In the Ring Realms, golems are typically used in the role as guardians, tireless, fearless, powerful, and ultimately loyal they are popular tools amongst powerful mages.

gorgon — Legendary creature that could turn people to stone.

guild — In the generic sense, any of several organizations that represent various craftsman. Mages, thieves, and warriors all have representative guilds (sometimes more than one in the bigger cities). When spoken of as ‘THE guild’, it is generally assumed to be the thieves or assassins guild.

—  H  —

Hades — The outer plane where many ‘under-realms’ of demons and creatures of the dark can be found.

Hecate — Pantheon lord, goddess of magic, death, and the moon. Hecate is an outcast even among her own kind. She pursues the ultimate power, Tan’Acho, and is willing to go to any lengths to achieve it.

See Also:  magic

Hella — Pantheon lord, goddess of death who guards the domain of Niflheim. In the story of ‘Neath Odin’s Eye Hella joins with Daena Sheento to become a first one.

See Also:  ascendant

Homeworld — Actually, a gigantic ship in space. The Kriar homeworld actually encompasses and entire star. The entire structure is mobile and has wandered the multiverse for untold millions of millennia. The Kriar have two homeworlds the Fabrista homeworld (from which most of the Kriar in the realms hail) and Karanganoi homeworld which has been over-run by Baronians. Characters such as Senalloy, Luthice, Alloy, Rakaar, and others essentially hail from Karanganoi homeworld.

See Also:  Corresont, Senalloy Moirae, kriar

house valharesh — The Valharesh family while old and well regarded among the elves was not a part of the circle of great houses that made policy and guided the destiny of Titaan’s Elf population. In fact, the Valhareshs actually hail from another world (Charon) in the Magocratic ring. What made the family move from Charon has not been disclosed, but it is known that they keep a great number of secrets.

The Valharesh have for many generations been great mages, and in fact, have the support of a very powerful (and obviously immortal) patron who has trained the first born Elf of each new generation who takes up the art of magic. Bertrand, the first-born son of the 25th generation chose not to enter seriously into the endeavor of magic. Most Elves “dabble” in magic, learning a few simple spells and incantations—but the family patron only teaches the first serious mage of each generation. Kalindinai, the next born after Bertrand, did enter into serious magic. She had no choice. The young Elf lady was a “wilder” a natural mage with far beyond ordinary magical potential. Such potential, that she could spontaneously cause magical effects whenever she experienced strong emotions or surprise. Kalindinai required magical tutelage simply to prevent her powers from inadvertently causing harm to others.

Even as a young Elf, Kalindinai’s magical talents were renowned and grew even more so as the family patron apprenticed her further and further in the arts of magic. The law of Malan requires that all skilled mages join the defense militia, and Kalindinai was no exception. As a wilder, her phenomenal magical strength made her a natural battle-mage, and she quickly distinguished herself as a powerful asset in the Elven legions. Malan experienced many skirmishes with Corwin during this era and Kalindinai’s potent magical skills were recognized by the then ruling T’Evagduran family and utilized to best advantage. It was during her tours of duty that Kalindinai would first meet young prince Jhaan T’Evagduran. Later, these two would fall in love, and marry—but only after a great deal of political turmoil. House Valharesh, was not a member of the inner circle of houses, and for the soon-to-be king to marry outside the cadre of nobility was frowned upon greatly. However, Kalindinai’s tremendous magical ability was seen as a potentially enormous boon for the T’Evagduran bloodline. The T’Evagduran family had not seen a great mage in their ranks for several generations and it was hoped that Kalindinai’s children would rejuvenate that lost spark. For that reason the sentiments of the noble houses were dismissed and the marriage not only allowed but encouraged. This defiance of tradition caused a great deal of enmity between house T’Evagduran and the other ruling houses.

Kalindinai was a good queen and a fertile one as well, bearing the crown a daughter a scant two summers after their marriage. The new Queen was tough but fair, and having served in the ranks of the soldiers well regarded and respected. With house Valharesh having it’s eldest daughter in the seat of the Queen, the “barely noble” family flourished and grew in strength as their eldest son Bertrand maneuvered for political advantage. Eventually, he would win favored status and a place on the ruling council, establishing House Valharesh as one of the ruling houses.

The Valharesh magical legacy was thought to have stopped with Bertrand and Kalindinai’s generation as there were no serious mages among Kalindinai’s daughters. However, a recent development was the discovery that Janai T’Evagduran not only had learned magic while away in Canth, but was actually an exceptionally skilled mage. Janai has not revealed who taught her magic, but there are thoughts that the patron of Valharesh is the source of her secretive magical skills.

See Also:  Corwin, magic, Malan, Titaan

—  I  —

Ice Falcon — Alias for Aarlen Frielos. see Frielos, Aarlen.

See Also:  Frielos, Aarlen

Idun — Pantheon lord of the Aesir, goddess of immortality. Idun is one of the more powerful goddesses of the Aesir. In mythology she tends the fruit which grant the Aesir longevity. As a pantheon lord of the Ring Realms she is the keeper of fruits which have restorative powers on pantheon lords that also can temporarily imbue a mortal creature with immort strength, resilience, and magick.

Idun is the mother of Euriel Kergatha Idundaughter, and grandmother of Liandra Kergatha.

See Also:  Kergatha, Liandra {Wren} Idun-daughter

immortal — Any of class of creatures which have effectively infinite life-spans. Immortal in the greatest sense can mean almost impossible to kill. The pantheon lords fall into this category being able to heal back from the most fearsome of wounds. In later stories, Bannor tests just how far “immortality” goes.

implant — (specific to Cyberware c.f.) In reference to a particular techno-enhancement placed in the body. The implant has experienced shutdown.

inertia — The tendency of a body to remain at rest or continue in motion unless disturbed by an external force.

interdimensional — Of or pertaining to alternate realms of existence and their access.

interface — The method by which human-machine or machine-to-machine interaction takes place. A computer keyboard is a human-machine interface.

Ishtar — Pantheon lord, goddess of love and war.

Ishtarvariku, Dorian Degaba — Dorian’s history is long and complex. She started life in another guise, as a man named Gondor Degaba. Gondor’s life was one of adventure. He forayed against slavers, and giants, and evil elves. As a skilled mage he was injured many times but had never really met his match. It wasn’t until he joined up with the Band of the Crescent Moon in their fight against a Lich Lord named Ceta that he met with real defeat. The undead creature made everyone’s life hard. Her minions killed two of the band outright and Gondor himself was turned into a vampire which the party was forced to destroy in order to continue their quest. Through some powerful magics Gondor’s lifeforce was preserved, but he was an unembodied spirit. The band had undertaken their quest at the behest of the Aesir pantheon lords, and it was lord Loki who decided to take a hand in providing a new form for Gondor. The god bound Gondor into the body of a woman. From then on Gondor became Dorian. This made life difficult as during the course of their adventuring Gondor and Cassandra had already become close and sworn to each other. It wasn’t until a few months later they discovered how close they had become, because Cassandra was pregnant. Gondor/Dorian’s life was only beginning to get complicated.

As a woman, Dorian went on developing her skills as a mage. Her relationship with Cassandra grew and changed, and later changed further still as Desiray entered the picture. She helped raise Cassin and Annawen and watched them grow into young women. Dorian’s adventures continued.

Dorian is a skilled and creative mage that is far more powerful than a typical mage of her age and skills. She has a knack for creating magic items and blending magicks to create devastatingly powerful combinations. In later cycles, she takes up the sword and martial training purely for the physical “toughening” to enhance her powers even further. Over the course of decades Dorian has developed a reputation as a schemer and a manipulator. She has successfully won the support, dedication, and even adoration of many extremely powerful allies, including such personages as Gabriella Sarn Ariok, who now mentors her in magick. While all are suspicious of Dorian, there is more than a little respect as well, where brute force has failed, Dorian’s clever deceptions have more than once saved the day.

Dorian is the wife of Brin Ishtarvariku, she has eleven children between four partners, two with Brin: Rindar and Jaraed. Four with Cassandra: Cassin, Annawen, Kassandra, Dorrian. Three with Desiray: Darin’Kel, Eviria, Leandra. Lastly, two with Megan Vinax: Ralani and Silvia.

See Also:  Ariok, Gabriella Sarn, Felspar, Desiray Illkaren, magic

ishtite — A rare metal especially conducive to the conduction and absorption of magic. Ishtite itself is typically far too rare and not durable enough to make solid objects from. Other materials are usually wrapped around it or alloyed with it. An amount of ishtite able to make a simple finger ring can be valued at hundreds of thousands of gold depending on the material’s purity. Pure ishtite is incredibly rare and probably exists in only one or two magic labs in all of the Ring Realms.

See Also:  magic

Isis — Pantheon lord, goddess of magic and fertility.

See Also:  magic

Ivaneth — Name of the kingdom south of Malan, with Corwin on its western border, and East realm and Coormeer on the east. Ivaneth is ruled by King Edmund Tradeholme. The capital of Ivaneth is Ivaneth City. A city of just over 1 million people.

See Also:  Coormeer, Corwin, Malan

—  J  —

Jalt, Areth — Eternal and alpha rank member of the protectorate in charge of intelligence operations. Areth is the stunningly attractive loremistress that serves the cadre of eternals in several capacities as archiver, researcher, and information gathering expert. Where Sroth simply retrieves information, Areth is the one who puts that data into perspective and assimilates it for use by the Protectorate. Areth is the cultural and technological expert, knowledgeable in the lore and legacies of all the major races of Eternity. What she doesn’t know, she has the resources and powers to discover. Aurra’s spiritual talisman is named Starsong. The weapon’s major power is the manipulation of sound. However, it’s debatable if this ability is really more significant than the weapon’s ability to truespeak any object, living or inanimate. This truespeak can reveal a creature’s secrets and weaknesses, and even reveal it’s spiritual truename. Arabella is Areth’s “surrogate to be”, having fought a long campaign to catch the eternal’s eye and join the Shael Dal. Arabella’s major motivation is to learn bard skills from Areth, as she is probably the oldest bard in existence. It doesn’t hurt that as Areth’s surrogate, she would gain access to the truly staggeringly vast warehouse of lore that Areth has collected over her many eons of life as an eternal.

See Also:  Eternity, eternals

jump — (generic) Of or pertaining to the entry into any kind of quantum travel (hyperspatial).

Jyril — Elder race capable of movement throughout the multiverse. They are the oldest known race of creatures with a knowledge of magic and technology that dwarfs anything else yet encountered. Little is known about these curious creatures or their real motives, except that certain sects of this ancient people act as a kind of cosmic police force. The Jyril fought and won a war against the Kriar, putting upon them a “curse” of infertility that kept the gold-skinned creatures from reproducing for millions of cycles.

See Also:  kriar, magic

—  K  —

ka’amok — Name given to savants by the pantheon lords. It means “chaos bringer”. The ka’amok are sought by the lords for their ability to serve as avatars.

karanganoi — The name of the ‘other’ Kriar dasta (and name of their homeworld). The Fabrista and Karanganoi are two clans of Kriar that went their separate ways during first exodus. See Fabrista.

See Also:  kriar

kath — Combat grade rank in the Kriar military equal to a captain. See also Kriar Ranks.

See Also:  kriar

Kegari — Dragon in the employ of the pantheon lord Idun, she and her friend (sister mate?) Tymoril travel extensively with Bannor.

See Also:  dragon, Tymoril

Kell — Powerful being that appeared in citadel Kul’Amaron and bested several savants, a Shael Dal, and a Kriar belkirin with little effort. Kell’s origins are unknown but it appeared that he had both savant and Baronian heredity.

See Also:  belkirin, kriar, Kul’Amaron

Kerall, Foross — Eternal and alpha rank member of the protectorate serving as Strategic Commander. Foross’ spirit talisman is called Stellaraac. The weapon’s primary ability is to grant the wielder ultimate shape changing power. Foross’ current surrogates are Aarlen Frielos, Beia Targallae, and until further notice—Corim Vale. Foross has something of a love hate relationship with Aarlen, fascinated with her as a person but despising the tyranny that she embodies. He has a much more supportive contact with Beia who despite her rough edges and violent nature is essentially a good person.

See Also:  Eternity, eternals, Frielos, Aarlen

Kergatha, Azir — Son of Euriel and Vanidaar Kergatha, and older brother of Wren. Azir is a Sil’Kar Nola, a savant of light. During the avatar raid that captures Wren and makes Euriel and Vanidaar mental prisoners in their own home, the then eighteen summer old boy made his escape into the planescape surrounding Cosmodarus. Already trained in the techniques of plane-shifting as well as survival and woodscraft, it was an easy matter for the young man to elude capture by the avatar’s minions in the ever changing environment around Cosmodarus.

Unfortunately, Azir’s ability to elude pursuit did not prevent him from getting lost amongst of the thousands of parallel worlds of the ribbon realms. He moved from place to place, doing odd tasks to get food and shelter, and looking for a way back home to help his family. After a few seasons spent plane hopping he did eventually find his way back to Cosmodarus, a little older and more determined.

After several aborted attempts to free his parents and barely eluding capture, he went to the world of Titaan, and the city of Corwin, following the trail of his kidnapped sister. He learned that the temple of Hecate there had recently been over-run by the Justicars and most of the prisoners freed. His inquiries with Justicars bore no fruit, as none of the warriors involved in the raid recalled seeing a young girl. It was during these inquiries that he met his school friend Laramis De’Falcone, a well-connected Coormeerian paladin of Ukko, who had just been admitted to the ranks of the Justicars. Laramis’ funds helped finance a wider search of Corwin, but the efforts netted no leads or any evidence that Azir’s sister Liandra still lived or was even still on Titaan.

Azir turned his attention back to trying to find a way to free his parents from Mishaka. He turned his attention to the Elven land of Malan, his parents being longtime friends of the T’Evagduran royal family. It was Malan where he and Laramis had attended academy together learning everything from academic subjects to warcraft. His attempts to garner the help of the royal family were frustrated by a border war between Malan and the neighboring lands of Ironwood, and the Dwarves at Blackstar. The conflict had grown to the point that the T’Evagduran royals were involved and unable to be contacted much less assist in Azir’s family crisis.

Azir then turned his attention to higher powers and his Grandmother Idun, the pantheon lady of the Aesir. He found it strange that the powerful goddess had not already come to the aide of her daughter and granddaughter already. It was during his attempts to contact her that he learned of a wider conspiracy by the court of Odin against Euriel and her mother Idun. For more than two summers his efforts to contact Idun or get into Gladshiem were blocked by various “coincidences” and “happenstances” that he knew were anything but. It was shortly after that, agents of Set and Hecate began pursuing him. He also began having run-ins with the black-winged Valkyries called the Bloodguard. It was only incredible luck, his powers as a savant, and chance alliances with warriors of the All-World’s Tournament that kept him from getting killed or captured.

With such forces mobilized against him, Azir could do little more than run. He spent several years only steps ahead of the agents of the pantheon lords. Eventually they gave up the pursuit and Azir was free to turn his attention back toward freeing his parents. Azir returned to Titaan, and located his friend Laramis, who, over the seasons, had risen considerably in the ranks of the Justicars and the faith of Ukko. Hardened by cycles spent on the run, skills honed by constantly being hairs from death, Azir decided to make one last ditch effort to free his parents with the assistance of Laramis and a few of his retainers.

Azir’s efforts were to be short-lived by a chance and detrimental encounter with the avatar Hethanon, who would capture the man and give him into the hands of Mishaka. It is shortly after this time that Azir’s sister Wren Kergatha would finally find her identity and her way back home after more than a decade spent in the streets of Corwin where she was a member of the Brethren guild of thieves. Wren and her friends would eventually succeed in their efforts to restore the Kergatha family, and Azir could finally end his cycles of torment and exile.

See Also:  avatar, Corwin, Cosmodarus, Kergatha, Vanidaar, Kergatha, Liandra {Wren} Idun-daughter, Malan, Titaan

Kergatha, Euriel Idun-daughter — Daughter of the goddess Idun, wife of Vanidaar Kergatha, mother of Liandra Kergatha and Azir Kergatha.

See Also:  Kergatha, Vanidaar, Kergatha, Liandra {Wren} Idun-daughter

Kergatha, Liandra {Wren} Idun-daughter — Daughter of Euriel and Vanidaar Kergatha. Fifteen summer veteran of the Brethren guild. Wren is a Kel’Varan Nola a savant of forces. Wren has had dozens of run-ins with the pantheon lords and their servants. She has fought several avatars and permanently killed two. Even Hecate speaks of this young woman with grudging respect… knowing her full potential especially when backed by the proper allies.

See Also:  Kergatha, Vanidaar

Kergatha, Vanidaar — Husband of Euriel Idun-daughter, father of Liandra Kergatha and Azir Kergatha. Vanidaar, like his two children, is a savant—Kul’Vita Nola—a savant of life forces.

See Also:  Kergatha, Liandra {Wren} Idun-daughter

keshira — Elven diplomatic term referring to a person of royal descent who is not currently in power or acknowledged by the powers that be. Sarai refers to Bronawyn Darkstalker as “Keshira” because the members of the royal family of Drakmourne were run out of the kingdom (indeed off the continent).

See Also:  Shadowstalker, Bronawyn

kidomma — Elvish term of respect for an woman who is older but of lesser rank. Ryelle refers to Euriel Kergatha (who is a baroness by rank) as “Kidomma”. Domma is an elven synonym for “mother”. The prefix ‘ki’ is somewhat like ‘kul’ (which means power) but is more like emphasis than true meaning. So the best translation is ‘special mother’ or ‘respected mother’.

See Also:  elvish

Korvel — Shaladen blade and spirit talisman of the eternal Sroth Mephista. Korvel has the distinction of being perhaps the most lethal of all the shaladen weapons. Korvel confers the ability of ultimate stealth upon the user.

See Also:  shaladen

kriar — Summary: The Kriar being a vegetative (rather than mammalian) humanoid race possess several plant-like attributes. Their skin is photosynthetic, and they derive nourishment from light. Their tissue is dense (like wood) and thus they are heavier and more resistant to injury. Kriar scientists have heavily modified the hereditary physiology of the species and many of the evolutionary drawbacks of their origins have been engineered away. Most Kriar rely on a life-support mechanism called a matrix stone that is embedded in their bodies at a young age. These jewels provide supplemental photosynthetic nourishment so the Kriar can function for extended periods in environments where there is little to no natural sun-light. These jewels are normally installed in sets. A focus stone in the forehead, a distribution matrix enfleshed in the collarbone, and brain-stone or central control enfleshed beneath the lower abdominal muscles. These matrixes often have cybernetic enhancements and convenience mechanisms built into them depending on the kind of work the Kriar does. Warriors typically have additional implants in the palms of both hands. These are high-energy foci. The hand focus allows the warrior to create force weapons and shielding, along with usually having various sensor and cybernetic apparatus built into them.

See Also:  energy

krill — krill is actually a generic name for a class of synthetic materials noted for their metallic and crystalline properties. Most of the compounds in this class of material have overlapping or co-bonding electron shells i.e. the molecules bind together so tightly that adjacent molecules begin sharing electrons (the electrons actually begin orbiting two or more nuclei in the molecular mass). The result is a material that once catalyzed is super-inert, wave dense, and non-conducting. Such a material is extremely difficult to manipulate or work because the multi-valent bonds resist expansion and heating. Essentially structures of these materials can only be created through molecular assemblers that maintain the raw atomic material in a plasma state.

Krill can be made photonically opaque or permeable through nano channeling in the molecular structure. In other words, this allows the creation of a super resilient transparent metal.

Krill cannot be alloyed as with other materials. However the material can be interwoven into the structure of other compounds to lend strength and resiliency. Krill itself has extraordinary tensile strength, even thin wires of the material able to hold hundreds of tons. This property is the basis for the ‘monofilament’ wire, which is a strand of multibonded molecules with super-resilient qualities. Most forms of krill are super-rigid and thermal-resistant to well over a 100,000 degrees. However, there are variants with alternate properties.

See Also:  shaladen

Kul’Amaron — The great citadel of Malan where the elven rulers sit court. This structure is more than a dozen millennia old and warded by generations of powerful magics.

See Also:  Malan

Kylindria — A Valkyrie in the service of the pantheon lord Sif, and member of the Valkur clan of the Chosen. She is often called by her shorter name Kylie. She travels extensively with Bannor. Kylie is the commander in charge of Sif’s Valkyrie contingent.

—  L  —

loremage — A arbitrary ranking of a mage’s skill in magic. Few mages attain lore mage status. A way to note a magic-user’s status as a lore-mage is their ability to singly complete coven magics (magics that require multiple mages working in concert).

See Also:  magic

Luthice — A baronian war-witch hailing from the Karanganoi homeworld. She and her sister Senalloy both have an extraordinary knowledge of Kriar technology and artifices. Both sisters speak the Kriar high-tongue fluently which alone is very rare.

Beyond her millennia of hardened hand-to-hand combat and weapons training, Luthice is noted for her stealth abilities, and her understanding of locks and traps. In addition, she is an extremely accomplished mage rivaling the likes of Elsbeth Crowninshield and Aarlen Frielos. Those skills coupled with her Baronian physiology makes her a harrowing opponent.

At some point, Luthice came into the possession of Kriar master gate key. She has in some way managed to magically alter this technical tool and has used it on occasion to “hack” the Kriar time-gate network. Luthice is in possession of a kind of magic that allows transport between universal pockets. Something previously thought to only be possessed by the very oldest of the elder races the Jyril.

In return for being freed from captivity on Karanganoi homeworld, Luthice agreed to work as an agent for the pantheon lord Isis. Her infiltration skills and knowledge of magical security have been put to abundant use since.

As a diversion, Luthice joined up with a group of musicians headed by the infamous bard Arabella. With Luthice’s help, the red-haired bard persuaded the D’klace sisters Sindra and Drucilla to also participate in this odd musical endeavor. The group which they dubbed the “Rainbows in the Dark” is fast becoming renowned through the Ring Realms for their music. This is not surprising given that the skills and resources of three great elders are at the core of the group. Initially, this group started as a traditional bardic troop using common stringed and wind instruments. The three technically savvy elders eventually led the group to technical instruments like amplified guitars, keyboards, and rock-style band accoutrements. This band’s own unique style of “bardic rock” is an unmimickable mixture of vast elder life experience influenced lyrics, youthful creativity, and beautiful all-girl band novelty. This group became so profitable that even Aarlen Frielos wanted to manage for them.

Later, Eviria Felspar is engaged to Luthice, and the two of them live together in the Felspar citadel.

See Also:  Corresont, Senalloy Moirae, Crowninshield, Elsbeth, Frielos, Aarlen, Frielos, Drucilla, Frielos, Sindra, Isis, kriar, magic

—  M  —

mage — Simply a person who uses or is knowledgeable in the science of magic.

See Also:  magic

magelights — Magelights are similar to priestlights, the only major difference being the guild that installs them.

magestrix — Title given to the ruler of the fourth alliance. Aarlen Frielos has held this title for more than ten thousand cycles. The title was developed for her and is derivative of the words ‘magesty’, ‘mage’, and ‘dominatrix’. Aarlen’s rule over the technical worlds is largely because of her skills both as a technologist and mage, and her even rarer talent of being able to blend the two.

See Also:  Frielos, Aarlen, magic

magic — Magic in the Ring Realms is a science, but unlike a technical science it is an elitist pursuit. While anyone can study and understand biology, and put its principles to use, the same cannot be said for magic. It’s largely believed that all creatures have the ability to wield magic to a certain degree, however the spark which allows us to tap into that power is typically too small to do anything significant with. The evidence of this at work are those isolated moments in our lives when we experience déjá vu, briefly see another’s thoughts, or foretell the future.

While magic itself can be learned, the powers that can be attained cover a vast range, from simple hand illusions to the altering of reality on a interdimensional level. In some cases, creatures can substitute personal and psionic (mind power) energies for the gift that allows most mages to cast spells and manipulate magical energies.

Magic is not a specific energy or range of energies. It is more of metaphor that encapsulates a “principle” of action and reaction. In the Realms, the true magic is defined as:

The persistent ability to manipulate the environment in ways otherwise impossible without the utilization of natural phenomena, the influence or cooperation of physical bodies, or the use external artifices.

By this definition then, powers such as telepathy, and telekinesis, and other abilities of mind qualify as magic. However, they are not what is considered “traditional” or “ritual” magic.

Ritual magic uses the wielder’s magical spark and aspects of “sympathetic bonding” to generate chains of forces that act in place of birth-granted abilities to mentally tap and manipulate energy. In another regard, these ritual formulas substitute for an actual working knowledge of the mechanics and physics that make a particular feat possible. Rituals are coded schemes that at the basic level simply unleash simple reactions while at the higher complexities are actually sonic mnemonics that generate sympathetic reactions in dimensional space that can unleash whole chains of complex energetic interactions. As a mage increases in power and knowledge, his/her reliance on “ritual” totems for the performance of magical feats grows less.

Magical sophistication falls into categories at follows:

1st Order

Raw Ritual

The most basic level where all principles of magic are taken by rote and no underlying understanding of the physics or laws is assumed. Most shamanistic magic exists at this level

2nd Order

Reinforced Ritual

Rituals are assisted by a rudimentary knowledge of natural laws and fundamental sciences. This is the level of most trained lower-order mages.

3rd Order

Academic Ritual

Rituals are combined and enhanced with more sophisticated studies and

scientific principles like chemistry and alchemy. Mages who have advanced to the point where they may expand their abilities without a mentor’s guidance have this level of magic.

4th Order

Elaborate Ritual

Lower order rituals can be performed by force of will alone. The mage’s

academic understanding of rituals and their interaction with nature and physics allows them to create simple rituals that can be followed by other mages. They can also alter rituals to create slightly different effects. At this level of skill, a mage can insinuate (“bind”) magical energies into an artifice. Magical staves, swords, wands, and the like are examples of this ability.

5th Order

Sophisticated Ritual

The mage begins to develop pseudo-psionic capabilities. Many lower-level rituals can be performed with little or no concentration. The mage’s reliance on ritual is now a matter of following “templates” or “guidepaths” which tap the interactions of energy. The mage begins to manipulate the powers “manually”.

6th Order

Psionic / Pseudo-Ritual

Pure psionics are considered to practice magic of the sixth order. However, a being who uses mental energies like telepathy or telekinesis do not have the broad scope of abilities a ritual mage typically possesses. On the other hand, a creature who can perform such feats without resorting to rituals tends to have more flexibly and control in their application. Generally, psionicists have greater capabilities in their narrow spectrum of power. Ritual mages at this level can work magical energies in abstract ways and can combine them into newer structures. Rituals become “source material” that can be treated as building blocks.

7th Order

Reinforced Psionic / Free ritual

At this level the creature’s psionic potential affects a broader spectrum of the physical world and chains of interaction can be stimulated into motion. They can perform feats like cellular adjustment (healing). Mages of this order rely little on ritual. Their understanding of ritual is complete enough that they can “make it up as they go”. They are essentially still using rituals but are now only using them as anchoring or controlling points in their magic.

8th Order

Psi-Master / Ritual Independent

Psionic creatures begin to exhibit broad powers that are in many ways like ritual magic only performed by force of will alone. They can develop skills like self teleportation, dimensional travel, and can in some instances control their psyche so completely that they are independent of their physical bodies. Mages at this skill level no longer rely on ritual except for reference and ideas. They freely combine energies and are limited only by endurance of their physical bodies.

9th Order

Living Magic

The highest order of psionics and magic is cosmic or “living” magic where the creature becomes in tune with the physical nature of the cosmos and can manipulate it directly. The 9th order of magic is the top of the scale but creatures that possess this level of ability have a tremendous range in scope of their capabilities. At one end of the range might be the ability to control storms or perform miracle healing—in the Ring Realms the other end of the scale is the strength to destroy stars and alter the flow of time.

See Also:  energy, telepathy, teleportation

magocracy — A governing body comprised of magic-users.

See Also:  magic

Malan — The kingdom of the elves north of Ivaneth ruled by King Jhaann T’Evagduran and Queen Kalindinai. Malan is one of the most powerful nations in Sharikaar.

See Also:  Ivaneth, malanian

Malanian — Of or hailing from Malan. See Malan.

See Also:  Malan

Malbraion Hall — The structure in Green Run where Sarai T’Evagduran and her entourage stay in residence.

Matradomma — Elvish. A term of respect when addressing an Elven queen. Literally it means ‘mother of mothers’. Domma is the respectful form of address to older woman or a woman of higher station. It is the female gender equivalent of ‘sire’.

See Also:  elvish

mecha — Mecha is term for artifices, usually those of a sophisticated nature. The Kriar use the term in specific to refer to the race of artificial life-forms that live on Homeworld.

See Also:  kriar

Mercedes — Level 12 Kriar mecha healer or cybermed currently in the employ of Bronawyn Shadowstalker. Though Bronawyn actually owns Mercedes’ contract. The good-hearted healer tries to help everyone she can. Bronawyn is extremely stingy with the expensive cyber’s time. Mercedes is considered an “elite-class” healer, which means specifically that she can upgrade (or enhance) other healer type mecha. Mecha physicians are the most advanced of all mecha created by the Kriar and possibly the most quirky and eccentric.

See Also:  cyber-unit, cybermed, kriar, mecha, Shadowstalker, Bronawyn

mimi — Elvish. It is most often used as an affectionate term expressed to a loved one. It translates to the way the word ‘baby’ is used by a mother to a child. It can also be from wife to husband or vice versa.

See Also:  elvish

mindspeak — Another word for telepathy. See telepathy.

See Also:  telepathy

Mitaka — Mitaka is the name a Kriar combat unit. Dulcere Starbinder is a strike Belkirin from the 12th Mitaka Legion.

See Also:  belkirin, kriar

mithril — A light strong metal that possesses magical properties even in its ‘raw’ state.

Mon’istiaga — A horrendously powerful sword created by the first one Shiva. It has the ability, in Wren Kergatha’s words, to cleave a world in two. Wren uses this weapon on a few occasions to devastating effect. She slew hundreds of demons and the physical essence of Hecate with this weapon. This artifact is the embodiment of destruction, and its true capabilities are unknown.

See Also:  ascendant, Kergatha, Liandra {Wren} Idun-daughter

Myrmigyne — Member of an all woman clan of warriors. The Myrmigynes typically have isolated communities in the deep forests and jungles.

—  N  —

needleleaf — Tall evergreen tree common to the highlands and mountain regions, with a thin cylindrical leaf and pungent sap. They have a striking similarity to pine trees on earth.

network — A chain of interconnected units esp. in computers, or communications where one part has access one or more of the other parts.

Nightslash Elite — A special division of the Malanian royal guard. The Nightslash are covert bodyguards who watch over the royal family. Senalloy when she signs on to guard the princesses is inducted into the Nightslash guard.

See Also:  Corresont, Senalloy Moirae, malanian

nola — Used to refer to a savant’s magical power. In powerful savants the Nola can be a considered much like a living thing that inhabits his or her body.

nomar — A class of trade ship used in the violent seas around southern tip of Canth. Nomar ships are renowned for both their speed and ability to run in rough seas where other ships capsize or break under the strain. Nomar ships range from a hundred tons to over ten thousand… the biggest ships on Titaan. Their design is a closely guarded secret and it is commonly believed that there is magic involved.

See Also:  magic, Titaan

Nova — Shaladen sword spiritually bound the eternal Nethra Argos. Nova confers the ability to open rips in time and space primarily for purposes of travel but usable in a myriad of ways. Initially, Algernon D’Tarin wielded this weapon but conflicts with Eternal Nethra prompted him to switch weapons with Talorian Falor. Tal Falor is now the current wielder of the weapon and he and Nethra share an excellent working relationship considered one of the best in the Shael Dal.

See Also:  shaladen

nulltime — A way of referring to temporal non-existence similar to non-consecutive time. See non-consecutive time.

See Also:  temporal

—  O  —

Octavia — Level 20 Kriar mecha healer or cybermed currently in the employ of Eladrazelle Delarn. Though Octavia is a creature created by Eladrazelle, the two have a mother/daughter relationship. Octavia is for all intents and purposes the queen of healer mecha, having the most sophistication of any healer on Homeworld. As such, all mecha, even those from other dastas recognize and acknowledge her with a certain amount of awe.

Octavia and Marna Solaris team up to create the avatar for Gaea, one of the most sophisticated organic bodies ever created by the Kriar. Octavia also recreates Bannor’s ascendant body when his is destroyed by a run-in with jikartandak.

See Also:  ascendant, avatar, cybermed, Delarn, Eladrazelle, kriar, mecha, Mercedes

Odin — Pantheon lord, ruler of the Aesir. Odin is god of the atmosphere and warriors. Odin is the father of Thor with his discarded wife Jord.

—  P  —

paladin — A warrior who fights and represents a religion or cult. Paladins are generally seen as warriors who represent the most holy and righteous of the orders of the light.

phoenix — A powerfully magic bird-like creature that appears to be made of flames. When this creature dies, it reconstitutes out of its own ashes. Only a few phoenixes have been sighted in the Ring Realms and they are difficult creatures to find as they prefer the calderas of volcanoes as the location for their barn-sized nests. Phoenix are said to be the guardians of the lore of the First Ones.

See Also:  magic

plasma — A state of matter reached during fusion temperatures when all matter exists in a liquid state and the electron shell of the atom is so diffuse that atomic material bunches together in super-dense form.

—  Q  —

quasar — Quasi-Stellar. Bodies in space which emit light and radio waves.

—  R  —

Ratch, Boss —

Thug leader hired to capture Sarai.

rhinotaur — Rhinotaurs are uncommon (thank heavens!) creatures that live in various locations throughout the Ring Realms. They mostly have been spotted in Silissia, but have also been encountered in southern Corwin and in northern Coormeer. Rhinotaurs bare a rudimentary resemblance to centaurs, only they are far larger and covered with a hard gray exo-skeleton. When fully grown, the four footed aspect of the Rhinotaur can reach 3 paces high at the shoulder and can be as much as 2 paces across the chest. Specimens weighing more than 3000 stone have been brought down.

The armored hide of the Rhinotaur is equal to twenty overlapping layers of leather and conventional weaponry is all but useless against this defense. The humanoid torso of this creature is proportional in length to the shoulder height of its four footed body and is covered with the same thick gray armor. The arms are thick and powerful and end in four-fingered hands that possess an opposable thumb. The humanoid head has broad flat features and thick square teeth for pulverizing whatever food isn’t already pulverized. A single thick horn protrudes from the creature’s forehead. These creatures possess no language, but do make rudimentary use of tools. They commonly use huge clubs to bludgeon prey they run down. Rhinotaurs are vicious bad tempered and extremely territorial. Once enraged, they attack until slain. Because of this behavior they are sometimes used as extraordinarily powerful guard-dogs.

In combat, Rhinotaurs are a easily a match for an elder dragon because of the toughness of their armor. Rhinotaurs are stupid and thus can be easily controlled by a mage with the proper preparation and materials. This is, of course, the only way these creatures can be used in any guarding capacity. Rhinotaurs have been known to be used in the death spectacles arena combat. Legend has it that Rhinotaurs were created by grand lore-mage Theln of the Dream Merchants.

See Also:  Coormeer, Corwin, dragon, magic

—  S  —

savant — savant is the common and generic term for creatures who possess the spark of Alpha. See ka’amok.

Roster of Savant Powers and Known Savants

Garmtur’shak Nola—savant of reality

Latis Nola—savant of time

Chakta Nola—savant of space

Ta’arthak Nola—savant of matter

Da’jhamack Nola—savant of attractions

Kel’varan Nola—savant of forces

Ishtar Nola—savant of magic

Kul’vita Nola—savant of life forces

Sil’kar Nola—savant of light

Nomtar Nola—savant of fire/cold

Lokar Nola—savant of elementals

Gellid Nola—savant of phasing

Tong Nola—savant of minds

Ein’Doc Nola—savant of traveling

Brill’Kes Nola—savant of sound

Mairn’Tete Nola—savant of gases

Mairn’Kath Nola—savant of metals

Mairn’Reth Nola—savant of organics

See Also:  ascendant, Kergatha, Vanidaar, Kergatha, Liandra {Wren} Idun-daughter, magic

scalebark — Sturdy heavy-boled trees with thick scale-like bark and extremely dense wood. Quite similar to an oak actually.

scanning — The act of utilizing a scanner.

scoreday — A period of twenty days.

searga — Combat and engineer grade rank in the Kriar military. It is the lowest military rank for tracks. However for the engineering grade Searga is equal in rank to a combat grade Thane or a first class petty officer. The combat grade Searga is equal to a seaman. See also Kriar Ranks.

See Also:  kriar, thane

Sen’Gen — Armored agents of Frielos family known for their stealth and ferocity.

shadowspar — A type of bow renowned for its power and quality. It is known to enhance the bow-wielding skill of the user. Janai T’Evagduran, the second princess of Malan and renowned elven markswoman has never been bested in archery competition or combat when using one of these bows.

See Also:  Malan

Shadowstalker, Bronawyn — Deposed princess of Silissia and adventurer, sister of Nevarr Shadowstalker who is now the current Castellan of Drakmourn. Member of the Brethren guild of Ivaneth. Bronawyn married Caldorian Felspar in 1101 N.I.S.

Bronawyn has two daughters by Caldorian: Cassopia and DonaRae.

Bronawyn was cast out of Silissian because of a bloody coup staged by Gabriella Sarn Ariok over the Kingdom’s harboring of the followers of Kali. Bronawyn’s parents and immediate family aside from her brother Nevarr were all slain.

Later when Nevarr returned to reclaim the Shadowstalker birthright from Gabriella through an arranged marriage, Bronawyn regained her royal titles and rights to the lands in Drakmourn.

Through her contacts in the Felspar family Bronawyn happened to meet Gwensullan Techstar, the matriarch of the powerful 2nd generation Kriar house of Techstar. The Kriar lady technologist was looking to purchase lands on habitable worlds and it so happened that Bronawyn was willing to sell the (to her) worthless chunk of desert on the western border of Drakmourn, several hundred square leagues of barren rock and sand that were uninhabitable (for humans). Bronawyn sold the land to Gwensullan against the urgings of many in the Felspar clan (especially Cassandra—the reasons for Cassandra’s desire to block her adopted great-grandmother’s land deal are murky). Bronawyn received a payment of several million Kriar comtimes for the land parcel, a currency valid only on the Kriar homeworld. Bronawyn had known that the comtimes could purchase Kriar ‘magicks’ far beyond the meager means of anything that could be bought with gold. With Dame Techstar’s assistance, she ventured to the Kriar homeworld searching through catalogs to find something appropriate to purchase with her money. Many of the first things she chose the Kriar simply would not sell to a “primitive”. After a long negotiation period, and purchases of several trivial items, Bronawyn came upon the idea of purchasing a Kriar cybermed. The Silissian princess had seen the miraculous healing abilities of cybermeds because she had seen the one Clan Felspar consulted from time to time for healing critical injuries and ailments. When she made the request to purchase a cybermed, surprisingly the approval was granted for the sum of two million comtimes. The reasons the Kriar allowed the sale of Mercedes’ contract are unclear, but it is surmised that Mercedes herself through the network of cybers on homeworld arranged her own ‘vacation’.

Mercedes lived as a member of the Felspar household and acted Bronawyn’s assistant and later the caregiver for Bronawyn’s two babies. It is believed that Bronawyn’s relationship to the clan was one of the other ulterior motives that Mercedes had when she arranged the approval for the contract. The Kriar, and the cyber hierarchy were intensely interested in the science of magic and this was a golden opportunity to study a whole household full of mages in their “natural environment”.

Not long after Mercedes became a part of their family, Bronawyn came up with a money-making scheme utilizing the cyber’s incredible healing ability. She would locate rich families that had members with incurable ailments, and for a price restore them to health.

While it was a good idea, the basically good-hearted and very “human” cyber would have nothing to do with this “selling life to the highest bidder” mercenary plot. Try as she might, Bronawyn could do nothing to persuade the cyber to cooperate. She was ready to give up the cyber as a wasted investment and try “to get her money back” when her far more diplomatic husband, Caldorian stepped in. He suggested a compromise, run a clinic that offered healing at whatever the patients could afford, if free, so-be-it, but whatever could be reasonably born by the patients and their family… They had to charge something as he later explained to Mercedes, in order to pay for the facilities and such to support the endeavor. With careful persuasion they were finally able to convince the cybermed to agree, and the Shadowstalker Miracle Clinic was born. Bronawyn was careful to limit the knowledge of this institution and help enough less fortunate people to satisfy Mercedes’ sense of equity, while raking in huge sums of cash from rich families desperate to cure the incurable. This enterprise was as can be imagined, wildly successful. Mercedes was only one individual though and there was a limit to what she could do. Bronawyn then branched out into pharmaceuticals, the cyber’s knowledge of advanced medicines made her capable of devising vaccines and inoculations of incredible worth. Again, to satisfy Mercedes she had to temper the sales providing the product to the poor as well as the rich. The enterprise continued, with Bronawyn organizing better and more efficient ways to utilize Mercedes skills while still satisfying the temperamental cyber’s saintly sense of equity.

As Bronawyn’s financial resources blossomed, she hatched another scheme. The Kriar wanted to purchase land in the idyllic core-worlds of the Ring Realms, however, Elsbeth Crowninshield was utilizing her vast resources as an elder elite, to block, intimidate sellers, and buy up land to prevent any Kriar homesteads from being created. Remembering her initial extremely profitable deal with house Techstar, Bronawyn saw another way to make money. She began buying land in the different locations where the Kriar were showing interest and secretly brokering it to agencies on Homeworld. This simple enterprise far outstripped the extraordinary profits that she had been bringing in with Mercedes. However, it was not long before Elsbeth learned that her embargo had been undermined and the Crimson Mage turned her wrath on the Princess. Only by fact of her being Loric’s daughter-in-law did Bronawyn escape severe punishment at the hands of the elder elite. It was while hiding behind Loric and Cassandra that Bronawyn decided that if she was going to make enemies like Elsbeth, that she needed serious protection. She put word out on homeworld that she would pay handsomely for Kriar bodyguard.

Bronawyn was teased by the Felspar family that there was no way that some ancient Kriar warrior would “babysit” a human for any amount of pay.

They were wrong. Not only did Bronawyn get an applicant, the one who answered the call was none other than retired Tarkath Eclipse Shargris, one of the most renowned warriors on homeworld. This development stunned the family elders. It was a conundrum as to whether they should allow Eclipse to be in or around the household. It wasn’t until Bronawyn threatened to move out that they finally agreed to allow it as long as Eclipse promised ‘good behavior’. This Eclipse did do but the ancient Kriar’s assurances did little to calm misgivings. Loric knew if this impossibly old creature decided to cause trouble there was virtually nothing he or anyone else in the citadel could do.

Eclipse became the next Kriar member of Bronawyn’s household within a household. Loric’s unease proved unwarranted, the Tarkath turned out to be a model houseguest causing decidedly less trouble than the mistress he hired on to guard. In fact, he helped Cassandra out with several thorny problems which helped ease tensions. It was shortly thereafter Eclipse’s acceptance that family members discovered Desiray’s involvement with the rogue Kriar Quasar, who by coincidence was Eclipse’s mate. Which involvement came first remains in question, but it soon became clear that the Felspar clan had some ancient Kriar mercenaries now vacationing in their midst.

It was shortly after these events that the elder elite Aleesha Cloudwalker, who had recently come back on the scene due to the efforts of Cassandra and Dorian, got wind of Bronawyn’s recent hijinx. For whatever reason, the elder elite took exception to the Silissian woman and decided to make an end of her. Only the intervention of Eclipse prevented Bronawyn from meeting an untimely “conversion” to the light.

The rivalry between Aleesha and Bronawyn continues. The elder elite is waiting for Eclipse to get tired of protecting Bronawyn, and then she shall finally have her way…

***

For those time conscious individuals, the aforementioned details concerning Eclipse come after the events in both Savant’s Blood and in Shaladen Chronicles: A Knot In Time. They have already taken place by the time of the events in Reality’s Plaything.

***

See Also:  Ariok, Gabriella Sarn, cyber-unit, cybermed, Crowninshield, Elsbeth, Felspar, Desiray Illkaren, Felspar, Loric, Ivaneth, Ishtarvariku, Dorian Degaba, kriar, Mercedes, magic, shaladen, Shargris, Eclipse

Shadowstalker, [Xenos] (King) — Xenos was the hard and harsh ruler of the eastern Silissian kingdom of Drakmourn. Xenos was the eighth Shadowstalker heir in direct descendants. His death in 1085 N.I.S. ended a family rule that had lasted close to a millennia.

Xenos was noted for the brutal strength of his assigns, especially in regards to his war machine, run by general Zhendar Skyedoom, one of the most powerful warmages known in Silissia, and perhaps all of Sharikaar. However, it was the kingdom’s association with the cult of Kali that brought about its downfall.

The followers of Kali had centuries before been stamped out by the armies of Queen Drakka’Tah Sarn Ariok, better known as the Dragon Queen. When the Kali cult sought a new foothold in Silissia under the Stewardship of the Shadowstalker royal family, Xenos brought the baleful eye of the Ariok family on him. Gabriella Sarn Ariok issued warnings that if he continued to harbor the Kali thugs that the Kingdom would suffer. King Xenos, having heard rumor that Gabriella and her entire family had been subjegated by members of the Band of the Crescent Moon passed off her warnings as threats coming from a paper tiger.

Xenos was wrong. Instead of being weaker or restrained, the Dragon queen was even more fearsome than before. Backed by her daughters and a small band of picked adventurers, Gabriella methodically destroyed the Kingdom in a violent purging that claimed the lives of all but two members of the royal family and most of its significant servants including general Zhentar Skyedoom who challenged Gabriella to a magic duel in an effort to end the attack. Despite the general’s renowned magick skills he was brushed aside by the great elder’s legendary power.

Xenos was survived by his daughter Bronawyn, and his son Nevarr. In a bid to continue the Shadowstalker lineage, Nevarr agreed to marry Gabriella’s daughter Sabella and bind their families together and assure the followers of Kali never again allowed entrance into Silissia or any other part of Titaan.

See Also:  Ariok, Gabriella Sarn, dragon, magic, Shadowstalker, Bronawyn, Titaan

shal’kar — Engineer grade rank in the Kriar military equal to a lieutenant commander. See also Kriar Ranks.

See Also:  kriar

shaladen — A weapon made of the spirit metal Shael Dal. The most notable Shaladens are those wielded by the ki’succorund surrogates of the eternals. See eternals.

The shaladens of the eternals are a physical manifestation of that particular eternal’s spirit that has been combined into alloy of ishtite, adamantine, and krill. The resulting material is for most practical purposes indestructible. See krill.

All of the shaladens have a ‘vorpul’ quality edge. When a user is “bound” to any of the blades the following abilities are conferred to the wielder:

? Physical enhancement: All wielders are endowed with varying degrees of enhanced strength and resistance to physical injury. The smallest such enhancement (provided by the shaladen Cataract) confers strength sufficient to lift 30 stone overhead without straining. The body is toughened to the point that the user’s bare skin is as resistant to injury as if they were wearing chain mail. Most of the blades confer a limited form of “environment adaptation” that allows operation in hostile environments including airless space for a short periods of time.

? Unlimited telepathy: this ability allows mental communication across any normal-space distance, and in many cases across trans-dimensional distances as well. This communication can take place regardless of whether the target creature has any telepathic ability.

? Cross-culture idiomatic language translation: The shaladen confers the ability to synchronize with a particular creature to speak and understand in their mother tongue. The spoken language is as non-biased and idiomatically correct as is possible when translating the wielder’s thoughts to words in the target language.

? Point-to-point summoning: A wielder can “summon” another wielder via plane-shifting provided the other wielder is willing and not resisting the transfer. The “summonee” must be conscious and able to grant permission for the summoning to work. The “call” of the blades is very powerful and can occur across dimensional barriers and through all but a few kinds of magical and technological defenses.

? Temporal autonomy: After binding with an eternal shaladen, the wielder is thereafter completely immune to the effects of time. They do not age, and chronological shifts and attacks are ineffective. The shaladen acts as an anomaly compensator allowing the wielder to function in back-time without causing downstream event disruption. The shaladen’s most unique power is its ability to confer pan-temporal uniqueness. The wielder cannot meet his “alternate” parallel time-lines.

? Undetectability: As a function of its anomaly compensation, under normal circumstances the wielder of the shaladen is completely undetectable. The user’s presence is not registered by electronic or magical devices. There have been some agencies which developed items specifically for the detection and tracking of the Shael Dal, but in most of the cases the eternals soon confiscated the devices.

See Also:  eternals, ishtite, krill, telepathic, telepathy, temporal

Shargris, Eclipse — Tarkath of the Kriar Shrike Legion Elite, twelve time decorated hero of the Jyril conflicts, and various war causes. Eclipse was a career military warrior with extreme patriotic dedication to his people. He and his close companion Quasar Diliaysus were two of the best warriors the Kriar corps ever saw. On many occasions these two resilient warriors were the last Kriar standing in several unfortunate encounters.

See Also:  kriar

Sharikaar — The largest continental landmass on Titaan. The major continents of Titaan in order of size are Sharikaar, Fraestar, Canth, Pedon, and Silissia.

See Also:  Titaan

Sheento, Daena — An orphaned teenage savant whom Bannor meets in order for her to bind with her beta half, the Aesir pantheon lord Hella. Daena is a Da’Jhamack Nola, a savant of attractions. Daena joins with Hella, and the two merge into what is thought to be a reincarnation of a first one. Daena’s natural abilities equal and in some cases surpass that of a pantheon lord. She has virtually limitless astral strength, and amazing powers of recovery. Daena’s biggest limitation is her age and inexperience. Having the powers of a goddess and knowing how to use them are different things. Though she is learning quickly, it will be some time before she ever realizes a significant portion of her full potential.

Daena now lives as the protégé of Princess Janai T’Evagduran of Malan, who is educating and gentrifying the young girl turned first one. The youngster has already learned to alter her shape at will, and can now transport herself across vast distances through psionic teleportation. The Malanian princess’ real intentions for Daena are an ongoing issue for concern.

See Also:  ascendant, Malan, malanian, teleportation

shields — (generic) For a force-field (c.f.) protecting an area.

Sil’vaya — The elven name of Desiray Illkaren Felspar.

See Also:  Felspar, Desiray Illkaren

silissian — Someone from Silissia. see Silissia.

Skyedoom, Ziedra — Ziedra Skyedoom is an expatriate noblewoman of the eastern Silissian kingdom of Drakmourn. Daughter of General Zhentar Skyedoom, and Beldwin Skyedoom. At a young age, Ziedra was sent away from her home to seek refuge in the Sharikaarian city of Corwin. There Ziedra joined up with a band of gypsies for shelter and refuge. She later met and befriended Wren Kergatha another orphaned young girl. Wren joined the Brethren guild and with her guild earnings supported herself and Ziedra for many seasons. In the interim Ziedra began learning to dance, and over a span of seasons grew famous and prosperous on her own. She took up with royalty and she and Wren gradually grew apart. Ziedra’s prosperity was not to last, she dallied with the wrong man and was forced to escape Corwin with city guard on her heels. Again destitute, the young woman wandered from kingdom to kingdom doing odd jobs and staying ahead of the princess’ agents. She finally ended up in the port city of Ivaneth where she again met up with an older wiser Wren Kergatha who again took her under her wing.

It shortly after this reunion that Ziedra’s destiny was to truly crystallize. Through Wren’s recent acquaintances she met Bronawyn Shadowstalker, one of the only surviving family members of the uprising that killed her father. She also discovered her father’s relationship to family Frielos, discovering she was actually the niece of Caladar Skyedoom the paramour of Aarlen Frielos. The revelations were not to end there. Wren Kergatha also discovered that Ziedra was a savant, an Ishtar Nola, a savant of magic.

Through circumstances, Ziedra was forced to develop skills quickly simply to survive the events that her relationship with Wren got her involved in. Ziedra learned sword fighting and ended up as a magical apprentice of Aarlen Frielos.

As an Ishtar Nola, Ziedra is a natural mage, able to learn spells simply by touching the caster during the incantation. She has an eidetic memory that allows her to memorize movements and vocal sounds with the briefest exposure. Her ability to couple memorization and the coordination of her body makes Ziedra an incredible student of any coordination reliant skill. This ability is sophisticated enough that she can build skills virtually as fast as she is exposed to the nuances. The Ishtar Nola also allows the reading of magical auras. Ziedra can read not only the properties of magic, but can discern details about the caster who created the enchantments. As a living avatar of magic Ziedra is extremely resistant to harmful magicks, and totally impervious to all forms of magical charms, paralyzation, control and domination. She can manipulate magical energies much the same way the Kel’Varan Nola manipulates forces. This control combined with her personification of magic allows Ziedra to use a magic item that would otherwise work only for a specific person. The exact limits of this last skill are unknown, but it is believed that her nature as ‘magick’s mistress’ causes all magical items to see her as their ‘true creator‘. The pantheon lord Isis possesses a similar capability and some surmise she is the tao-beta to the Ishtar Nola.

See Also:  ascendant, avatar, Corwin, Frielos, Aarlen, Isis, Ivaneth, Kergatha, Liandra {Wren} Idun-daughter, magic, Shadowstalker, Bronawyn

slitherbelly — A long thin reptile on other worlds sometimes referred to as a snake.

Solaris, Marna (Counsel) (Vatraena) — Marna Solaris is the spiritual mother of the Kriar race, and the oldest living Kriar in existence. While the persona of the Vatraena dates back to before the launching of homeworld, she is only in spirit that same person. Untold millions of cycles old, the Prime Mother of the Kriar has been through renewal thousands of times. While she is (in spirit) the eldest Kriar, she is, in many ways, the youngest because she has forgotten so much of her past in antiquity.

Marna is the undisputed mistress of the Kriar warp science, and the most skilled time diver on Fabrista homeworld. She is rivaled only by military commander Tarkath Quasar Diliaysus, who uses extensive matrix enhancements to increase her powers. In addition to her time diving capabilities, Marna is able to perform n-space folding by pure force of will. This talent is the ability to cause the atomic and sub-atomic structure of matter to twist upon itself and occupy higher order dimensions. This process can be likened to taking a two-dimensional object and folding it so it occupies three dimensions. Marna can take three-dimensional matter and “fold” it so that it occupies four and even higher order spaces.

After the adoption of Cassandra Kel’Ishtauri by house Techstar, it became a fashion among the Kriar nobility to start interacting with the humanity and skilled mages in particular. The ability of magic to overcome something Kriar science could not opened many eyes, and sparked intense interest in learning the secrets of magic. Also, humans being young and impressionable, made them excellent protégés. The Kriar being empaths, derive a great deal of satisfaction being around creatures who still experience excitement and passion. They can feel “vicariously” through their empathy, emotions and sensations that they themselves have become numb to due to hundreds of millennia of life.

See Also:  kriar, magic

Starbinder, Dulcere Val’Saedra — Daughter of Marna Solaris by her second husband Louvros. Dulcere is a well regarded Belkirin who commanded the star vessel Tiraka. While trying to defend her ship, Dulcere fought a hand-to-hand battle with the blue eternal named Garn. She was subsequently injured and forced to make planetfall, where a mishap with her damaged command-level power matrixes caused a cliff to collapse and bury her. The avalanche forced her into stasis, which over a long period of time allowed her to heal.

Many millennia later she was uncovered by Meridian Arcturan and Rakaar Steelsheen who used magic to control her. They later bound her to a device and used her timediving powers to cause a massive time quake (isolinear diffraction). Dulcere eventually escapes control and joins forces with Corim Vale, Beia Tarallae, Cassin Kel’Ishtauri Felspar, and Annawen Kel’Ishtauri Felspar. Together the group manages to undo the damage caused by Meridian and restore time to normal.

As a reward for her assisting the humans, the Jyril Vasar Sa’Gairin removes the curse from Dulcere’s body. The ancient Kriar is very confused when she begins to have feelings for Corim. Eventually, they do begin to grow closer. However, their relationship is made difficult by others who also have amorous intentions for Corim.

See Also:  belkirin, kriar, magic

Starfist, Bannor — Border guardian for the Barony of Tenax. He holds the rank of captain in the Baron’s ranger regulars. Bannor has the power of the Garmtur Shak’Nola (A savant of reality) which gives him control over the threads of probability, interaction, and creation. His senses allow him to perceive the forces, energies, and interactions of matter and energy through simple concentration. As part of his power he can recognize and memorize such patterns instantly in order to later manipulate them.

Bannor’s control over the Garmtur is rather limited, so it often acts in undesirable and sometimes self-destructive ways. Bannor is a skilled warrior with a several years of battle experience. He uses the Jac’Daw style of two-handed fighting which is specifically tailored for axe combat. Bannor is proficient in tracking, plant, and animal identification. As a scout, he is extremely familiar with the borderlands, and has become a proficient in cartography (map making). Bannor is twenty-seven years old and engaged to Sarai T’Evagduran the 3rd princess of Malan.

See Also:  energy, Malan

Starhawk — A class of Kriar battle ship in the Kriar space armada.

See Also:  kriar

stasis — The cessation of relative time for an object or area. A stasis by definition arrests the decay of matter within its confines.

Steelwood, Jolandrin — Renowned ranger and lady student of Loric Felspar.

Wife of Sebenreth’Kar Felspar.

See Also:  Felspar, Loric

stone — Measure of weight. For those concerned with Terran equivalents, a stone is equal to 20 pounds or just hair over 9 kilograms.

Stonewood — Kingdom to the north of Ivaneth, so named for the rock-like fossilized trees that can be found through much of its territories. Stonewood is has the notorious reputation of having been the birthplace of Lady Karn Taath, the Iron Queen, otherwise known as the womb of abominations. The birthmother of the avatar Mishaka.

See Also:  avatar, Ivaneth

subpath — A flow (like a tube) that occurs in the subether. The actual connections between weak spots in time/space.

subspace — Another term for the sub ether.

See Also:  ether

Surr, Daergon — Prime Kath and later notorious political leader of the Fabrista Kriar dasta. Daergon was responsible for many major events in Kriar history. His main contribution was his dissolution of the previously adhered to cultural protection “prime-directive”. His particular push was to establish the Kriar as a dominant species, in this process actively interacting with and studying other cultures in a non-damaging but socially and psychologically impactful process that is equivalent to ‘tag and release’. Kriar ships would move into a system and request access. Access not granted resulted in a ‘forced’ study that involved capture, probing, and release of a significant portion of a planets population, through the Kriar dimensional gating system. (Alien abduction anyone?) The purpose of these studies was to scan for and locate unique ideas, concepts, and lore that could further the currently stagnant Kriar body of scientific and sociological enlightenment.

This accelerated “study” of other cultures did yield significant results but at the cost of inflicting severe culture-shock on every race the Kriar came in contact with. This plan was vehemently opposed by many of the ruling hierarchy, but those that resisted ended up meeting with mishaps, or having some other misfortune occur in their lives. It was over this matter that the reigning Kriar matriarch Marna Solaris, and her two confidants and staunch supporters Gwensullin Techstar, and Eladrazelle Delarn left the Kriar ruling council.

The cycle of study and culture shock continued across several universes until the Kriar encountered the homeworld of the Jyril. Not believing there might be an older and more advanced race, Daergon pushed the study when Jyril warned the Kriar not to enter their territory. The push into the Jyril territory immediately resulted in combat losses where there had been none for millennia. The Jyril had craft that not only matched the power and speed of Kriar starvessels, but surpassed them in firepower. Smelling that some really significant technological secrets might be gained from the Jyril, Daergon continued to press the invasion, escalating the conflict into the first war that the Kriar had been involved in for several eons.

The conflict did not last. The Jyril moved en masse and were quick to crush the Kriar vanguard long before it ever got within striking distance of their homeworld. It was then they decided to give the Kriar something to occupy themselves. They inflicted a race-wide “curse” on the Kriar making them not only infertile but unable to feel or experience pleasurable sensations or emotions. This was deemed an appropriate punishment for their “unfeeling” and “insensitive” invasions into the sanctity of other cultures.

This loss was devastating to the Kriar in more than the obvious ways. It was stunning blow to the arrogant and superior attitude carried on by Daergon and his followers. Limping away from Jyril space they retreated to interuniversal void to lick their wounds, analyze the lessons learned, and try to undo the damage done to their race by the Jyril.

The Kriar researchers were soon to discover that the Jyril curse went beyond even their eons old super science. The genetic infertility and “numbing” could not be engineered away, even when manipulating the genes at the atomic level. Somehow, inexplicably, the cells would revert. No detectible radiation or change other those wrought by the Jyril magic could be discerned.

This set most of the leadership into a panic. The Kriar had given rise to their last generation and they as a race would have no more progeny. The only continuance the Kriar would have lay in the then living individuals. A continuance project immediately ensued, and all living Kriar went through engineering to effectively make their lives “perpetual”. A renewal procedure was scheduled for all members so that psychotic ennui would not set in from too-long lives. At the time, there were already members from the second generation of Kriar who were already involved in a “perpetual life” program so it came as no shock to the general population when this course of action was chosen as a intermediate solution to the infertility conundrum.

The Jyril curse became a new and powerful motivation in the lives of the Kriar. The resources of an entire race were now focused on discovering a means to defeat this disastrous attack. Plans to revisit an attack on the Jyril were immediately dismissed because it was deemed that there simply was too big a gap in the capacities of the two races, and any losses experienced would be permanent and irreplaceable. It was decided that the search for lore to rectify their problem would be sought in other universes.

As one would hope, the ruling body had learned something from its mistakes, and was careful with the initial forays seeking information that might lead to a solution. The next cultural contacts were cautious and resulted in a minimum of disruption. An thus was begun “the great seeking”. Agents of the Kriar homeworld scoured civilization after civilization looking for the choice bit of knowledge that would give them the key that would unlock the Jyril curse. With prime-directive protections back enforce the process was painfully slow and research stretched into decades, centuries, and millennia. Several hundred thousand fruitless cycles had passed when the Kriar found themselves entering a new universe. The universe of the Ring Realms. The followers of the still ruling Daergon decided that the process to discover the solution needed to be stepped up. The Kriar people were growing tired of life even with renewal. A decision was made to again abandon the prime-directive protections.

With this new universe the Kriar soon discovered that they had their hands full. Not one but several races possessed not only the ability to resist, but the ability to inflict serious harm. There were the vicious and brutal Lokori whose immense strength and natural time-related psionic powers took many Kriar lives. There too were the Dreel and the Toroth who staged devastating invasions into Kriar outposts and even managed to get war parties in the soft belly of the Kriar homeworld.

The Kriar defense forces trained harder, developed stronger weapons, and continued to press deeper into this new and extremely dangerous universal envelope. As they gained a toehold on the some of the richest core worlds they began constructing the gate system to allow better movement and study within the confines of Eternity.

It was the activation of the gates and the scanning of the timestreams that were to prove fateful to the Kriar hierarchy. With their roots buried deep in the ethereal flesh of eternity, the gates were seen as a threat by the time guardians. The eternals were dispatched to order the deactivation and dismantling of the Kriar portal system. The meeting with the arrogant Daergon did not go over well, and Koass promised that any further incursion would be deemed an act of war. A line was drawn in the sand and Daergon Surr was warned not to step across it.

Daergon and his followers dismissed the warning of the eternals. After all there were only twelve eternals. What kind of threat could such a small force pose?

The Kriar learned to their dismay that Koass and his followers could do a lot, and thus began the war with the eternals. No quarter was asked and none was given. Ship after ship was destroyed, often being brought down by only one of these curiously powerful creatures. Kriar were dying, and there was no hope for their replacement. Soon the Daergons realized that they needed to change their tactics. They needed a weapon to match the power of the eternals. Thus they engineered the creature Garfang, essentially a super-kriar with immense chronal, physical, and psionic power that drew upon the same sources of energy that the eternals did.

With the future of their race at stake and smelling a possible solution to the Jyril problem, Daergon personally oversaw the Garfang project. He created a plan by which he could strike down all of the eternals in a single blow using their new secret weapon.

Garfang was installed at Kriar way-point deep in the heart of eternal controlled space along with a battalion of the Shrike legion elite. Garfang was trained and prepared for the battle to come. Unbeknownst to Daergon, Garfang was far more self-willed than even the scientists who designed him knew. The powerful creature discovered what was planned for it after it had fulfilled its purpose. Garfang then developed plans of his own.

Daergon’s plan proceeded. He mobilized a significant number of his forces to the way-point to create a “final strike” opportunity for the eternals, hoping it would lure them in with the intent to cripple the Kriar’s offensive capabilities. The ploy worked and the eternals’ entire force arrived to strike a single retributive blow against the Kriar contingent. Summoning their energies, Koass led the coven of eternals in a ritual to create a single devastating blast that would destroy the entire way-point, all of the ships, and the Kriar within them.

As the eternals prepared their attack, Garfang was deployed. However, the living weapon did not attack as had been originally planned. To the Kriar’s dismay, he instead waited until the eternals began the attack before taking action. Using his immense powers, he turned their energies back against them, striking through time and dimensional space before they could react. In heartbeats, the defenses of the eternals were crumbling and the mass attack was on the verge of failing. The eternals gritted the attack out, thinking that their energies could overwhelm Garfang. The push grew, the summed powers of eternity growing in a devastating ball of energy, shoved this way and that between the coven of eternals and Garfang. Slowly, their attack was shoved back by the technically born powers of this super creature as he fed on more and more of their power. It was a fierce battle and the first one who blinked would be vaporized, and it was one of the lesser eternals, Yi Esperantil, who flinched. The balance of the coven shuddered and in a sudden flash the energy they had been directing against Garfang washed over them in a devastating and lethal wave. Detached from the coven, Yi herself escaped but the rest of her comrade eternals were destroyed. As this was happening, Garfang allowed the remainder of the eternal attack to pass him unimpeded. In an instant, the way-point screens were shattered, and the massive strike rained home destroying the Shrike Legion elite and the other forces stationed at the way-point.

After the assault was over, Garfang disappeared, and the Kriar mourned their Pyrrhic victory. The incredible loss was simply too much to bear, and the ruling Daergonians were summarily dismissed for the massive blunder that had resulted in so much unredeemable death. The main contingent of Homeworld retreated back into interuniversal space to recoup and rethink its follies.

Hundreds of millennia later a mage by the name of Cassandra Kel’Ishtauri would find and don a set of Kriar power matrixes once belonging to a certain notorious Kriar leader, and set him loose in the boundaries of eternity to wreak havoc. Through her contact with him she would eventually make contact with Ivral Techstar, the daughter of Gwensullin Techstar who would summon back the Kriar homeworld. This famous mage would eventually assemble the pieces of the shaladen amulet (the amulet of Tarkimar) used by Koass Vinax to bind the eternals into a coven, and restore the shattered paradise stone that served as the key to all of the energies to eternity’s heart. She would gain the powers of eternity and eventually begin restoring the bodies of the eternals. Thereafter, she would enact the most significant change in Kriar history. The lifting of the Jyril curse.

Now as an outsider, Surr tried to foment discord on homeworld, but his efforts would eventually bring him into conflict with members of the Band of the Crescent Moon, and the new members of the Shael Dal.

He would eventually meet his final end at the hands of Cassandra and a Jyril agent named Mira.

See Also:  bit, Delarn, Eladrazelle, Eternity, energy, eternals, kriar, magic, shaladen, scanning

Swiftwing, Adwena — Member of the Valkur, air-maiden of the “Ascendants” clan of Valkyries serving Ukko. Adwena was the second to Megan Vinax when she served Ukko. Adwena actually suffered more at the hands of Ukko than did Megan. Dorian persuaded Adwena to leave and it was Adwena’s decision that triggered Megan to herself seriously consider separating from Ukko. Ukko’s harsh punishment of Adwena for entertaining thoughts of leaving was one of the catalysts that moved Megan to break away.

In the cycles after Adwena broke away, she took up with Desiray Illkaren Felspar and the two of them were very close—close enough to have children (something she could never do with Ukko even though the pantheon lord forced himself on her regularly). She and Megan remain tight like sisters, and it was this closeness that brought Adwena to the attention of the Koass and the eternals. They had a vacancy in ranks of the Shael Dal and Adwena was a powerful warrior and an elder currently without a cause. They asked her to join up and she accepted. Adwena is the surrogate for the eternal Yi Esperantil wielding the shaladen blade Krelstar.

See Also:  eternals, Felspar, Desiray Illkaren, Ishtarvariku, Dorian Degaba, shaladen

symbiote — Literally, the word means ‘to live together’. Many creatures in nature exist in a symbiotic relationship. The best example of this are insects and plants. Many varieties of plants rely on flying insects (like bees) to spread their pollen which results in genetic diversity which is necessary for survival.

Some extremely advanced races create specially tailored symbiotic creatures to perform various tasks. One example of this is an organism that can be used as clothing. The creature itself is a colony organism that binds together into a non-porous “cloth”. This living clothing feeds on the body heat, skin oils, dead skin, salts, and perspiration present in a humanoid creature. The colony creature also scavenges any metabolizable particles that come in contact with its surface, including hair, pollen, (dandruff =)), dust, and, of course, any trace amounts of food a sloppy wearer might spill on it. It is designed to absorb to break down or depolarize (disassociate) itself with many of other kinds of inorganic particles as well. In essence, this creates a “self cleaning” fabric. Added to this basic structure are “microdot energy capacitors” anchored throughout the body of the symbiote. These organic “batteries” store bioelectric energy and are arranged in a positive-negative lattice allowing them to repel or attract one another. Through this mechanism and the symbiote’s own fibrous motility the fabric can be reshaped, creating a form of reconfigurable clothing.

Kriar symbiote clothing is more sophisticated yet, employing discrete matter conversion nodes into the symbiote’s body, allowing for more involved changes of the wearer’s living attire.

In her trip to Starholme Prime, Wren accidentally triggers some “hungry” first one symbiotic clothing.

See Also:  energy, kriar, Kergatha, Liandra {Wren} Idun-daughter

—  T  —

T’Evagduran, Janai (2nd Princess) — Janai is Kalindinai’s second daughter and around 500 cycles old. Of the Queen’s three daughters, Janai is actually the most rebellious, however, unlike her younger sibling she is much better at hiding it. Janai has a reputation as a schemer and a hedonist, but is well liked in Malanian court despite this. The princess is well traveled and has significant holdings outside of Malan. She owns countryside keeps and apartments in Ivaneth, Corwin, and Coormeer. She also has holdings in Canth and Pedon. She is rumored to have a controlling interest of one of the Nomarian trade guilds. Both of Janai’s husbands have died under suspicious circumstances. In both cases, the marriages had been arranged by her father. Her first husband died in one of the Realm wars. However, he died well inside territory controlled by Malan. A much decorated warrior, though the bodies of enemies were found around him. One court physician maintains the wound responsible for his slaying was actually an arrow shot. Evidence of this was never formally brought to the Malanian court however. Her second husband was slain in a magical duel. Strangely, both duelists were killed in the fight along with their seconds. The incident was considered a “freak accident of magical amplification”. The fireblast that hit the combatants was far in excess of what either Elf could generate. The families of the four slain men maintain that Janai had a hand in their death. This was never brought to court because it was well known that Janai possessed no talents in magic.

Janai and Sarai constantly fence with each other verbally and socially, and though they openly display hostility toward one another, they are quick to rally in defense of one another. Janai has a great deal of respect for her older sister Ryelle, to whom she gives more deference to than even her mother at times. Some sources speculate that the eldest sister Ryelle knows something about Janai that keeps the younger sister step and fetch…

Janai is a natural with the bow, and takes top honors in any tournament she enters. She has beaten her father on two occasions who is renowned through the realms for his skill. Because her father takes losing badly, she has never again entered a tournament in which he was competing.

Janai is a schemer and a hedonist. She has significant magical talents which she keeps secret due to certain obligations imposed on Malanian citizens who are mages. Janai has no children.

After events in ‘Neath Odin’s Eye, Daena Sheento becomes Janai’s One, much to the chagrin of the King and Queen. Same sex One’s are not unknown, but regarded with some bemusement. Officially, Daena is Janai’s ward prodigal.

See Also:  Coormeer, Corwin, Ivaneth, magic, Malan, malanian

T’Evagduran, Kalindinai (Queen) — Queen Kalindinai became the bride of Malan 999 summers ago at the age of 1153. She is a well respected and regarded queen who travels extensively within the borders of Malan conducting affairs of state. Kalindinai is what as known as a wilder mage, possessing extraordinarily strong magical and mental abilities. Her skills are only equivalent to an arch-magi but the power of her magic is significantly greater. It is the Queen’s participation in some of Malan’s border skirmishes that have caused the conflicts to end so quickly. The Matradomma is a devastating warmage and capable of destroying entire legions. Because of her intimidating reputation, Kalindinai often conducts negotiations on behalf of Malan. Kalindinai has three daughters.

See Also:  magic, Malan, Matradomma

T’Evagduran, Ryelle (1st Princess) — Ryelle is Kalindinai’s first daughter, born one summer after she was married to the King. Ryelle is 998 summers old. Ryelle is the steady daughter, who has always gotten along with both her parents. She is good at keeping her sisters under control when necessary, and get her sisters out of trouble when their stubbornness causes problems. Ryelle has never married though she has had several serious relationships that each time were thought would end in marriage. Her younger sister Janai maintains that she scares potential husbands away with talk of duty and loyalty to the affairs of the realm.

T’Evagduran, Sarai (3rd Princess) — Sarai is Kalindinai’s youngest daughter and is 473 summers old. Sarai idolizes her father and was the only daughter to join the Malanian military. Disguising her identity, she entered the ranks as a common recruit and earned her way to high Praelor of the hippogriff elite before it was discovered she was in fact the crown princess. Because of this, she is well regarded and respected amongst the officers and regulars of the Malanian forces. Sarai is skilled in the sword and bow, and served in three cavalry campaigns. She has some minor skills in magic. Sarai is the most independent of the daughters, and very direct in her manner. It is this directness that causes her to clash with her father who feels a need to reign in his willful daughter. Shortly after her enforced engagement to Duke Myrgul Tradeholme, Sarai slipped out of Malan. She later found Bannor Starfist in borderlands and fell in love with him. They later decided to get engaged.

See Also:  magic, Malan, malanian

talonbows — An Elven legion specializing in long range archery tactics.

tao — The spirit force of savants. The tao is a far stronger essence than that of a typical mortal, able to retain consciousness and identity for extended periods of time outside of a physical shell. The tao can all retain and capture the essence of mortal life-forces and keep them intact within its matrix, incorporating that pseudo-life into the host entity.

See Also:  ascendant

Targalle, Beia {Regaura} (Queen) — Summary

Queen of the Jhandris’Kul clan of Myrmigynes that reside in the great tree Duran’Gravar. Beia is a survivor of the arcturan death spectacles, victor of 611 bouts, 7 losses and 12 draws. She wears the shadowbolt tatoo and in an acknowledged 12th circle grand master of the Jac Daw and Dan Sadad fighting styles. She is a renowned archer and hunter as well. See has a younger sister named Ess. Cassandra Kel’Ishtauri is her adopted ‘clan sister’.

History

Beia has a long and sordid past. Raised in the arenas she new nothing but gladiatorial combat until the age of 26 when she escaped the arena’s with the assistance T’Gor D’Shar. T’Gor had been drafted in the arenas as an outside competitor, lured there by promises of great weapons, fabulous wealth, and the best fight training available in the realms. Most of this being true if one could manage to win seven combats in a row—which draftees rarely did.

Beia served as an arena “ringer” or blockmaster an impossible opponent set up to defeat draftees so that they would be forced to continue their gladiatorial contracts. As a lifer, a pit fighter born in the arena, freedom could only be achieved by going one hundred battles undefeated. As Meridian Arcturan’s star fighter, Beia suffered exactly one defeat every hundred battles through various tricks rigged by the evil mage.

One of the conditions of defeating an opponent in the arenas is that the warrior may opt to take 2 of that person’s belongings, or take that person into servitude. Part of Meridian’s twisted arena schemes is that his riggers were often able to defeat their opponents without slaying them outright. These hapless people would be carted off the field hanging by a thread where revival magicks would be used to restore them to health. Each revival cost the contractee seven battles. So, in defeat not only did they still need to fight seven more battles, they owed seven more. As a result draftees rarely could rarely overcome the deficit of owed fights to earn their way out.

T’Gor D’Shar fought for three years in the arenas, learning the Dan Sadad from various blockmasters. He deliberately forfeited optional matches to maintain his contract but not dig himself into a hole where he could not win his way out.

When he felt he had learned everything of value, he began his push to win his way clear of the arena. Unfortunately, T’Gor had become rather popular and had a reputation for winning all the big fights. When it looked like T’Gor would get himself free. Meridian arranged to have him fight Beia.

The fight was vicious and Beia was more than challenged by this powerful draftee. However, her greater experience and wild animal power (plus a little rigging by Meridian) ensured that she defeated him. This being her six hundredth battle, Beia resented that Meridian had robbed her of a fair fight. She chose to take T’Gor’s service rather than deprive him of his magic items.

It was during this service time that T’Gor and Beia got to know one another. Both of them were mutually angry at Meridian’s rigs, T’Gor for being duped, and Beia for being robbed of an honorable challenge against a worthy opponent. It was during this time that T’Gor convinced Beia to try to leave the arenas. Years of conditioning and abuse had made her believe that it was not possible to overcome Meridian.

T’Gor believed different. His plan was to request a special challenge rematch and have Beia throw the fight. He would “kill” her and collect the body as his spoils. Of course, there was the little matter of winning six more fights. With Beia’s additional training and coaching, T’Gor won the six fights and made the special challenge against Beia.

It was this “special challenge bout” that brought Beia to the attention of Aarlen Frielos. Unbeknownst to Beia and T’Gor, the fight had been rigged so BOTH warriors would end up in a three way match and get defeated. This was known to the spectators but not the two warriors. It was Aarlen who made the gift of Tariegron, the great battle blade to Beia right before the fight. The odds ranged from fifty to one to over a hundred-to-one against the two fighters surviving.

The battle was horrendous, invisible block masters, monsters and a host of trickery was turned against them. However, Meridian had not counted on Tariegron’s vorpul edge nor the determination of the two. When the dust had settled they had defeated four Rhinotaurs, a half dozen hidden block masters, and several other fighters. Gasping for breath, facing Meridian’s box the two of them looked up at him defiantly. While Beia stood their glaring at the evil mage, T’Gor stepped back and slammed Beia across the back of the head, knocking her unconscious and “defeating” her for the seventh time. T’Gor claimed her “body” as the spoils. Emotions from this titanic struggle were so high and audience involvement so great that Meridian was forced to release T’Gor who in turn pulled Beia from the arena.

After a brief stint with freedom and recovery, Beia and T’Gor would return to the arena to help others escape the rigged battles including Beia’s younger sister Ess.

On the outside Beia would go through a long recovery and acclimation process. She became “attached” to Cassandra Kel’Ishtauri after serving as bodyguard for her in a few adventures. The gold mage and her friend Dorian would eventually soften the hard exterior of this cold fighting machine and bring out her real emotions and feminine nature.

She would go on to make friends with Talorin Falor, and become the widely regarded teacher of pit fighting techniques. Tal would eventually persuade Beia in backing a campaign to destroy all of Meridian’s arenas.

Years later she would meet and grow close to Aarlen Frielos.

See Also:  Frielos, Aarlen, Ishtarvariku, Dorian Degaba, magic

tarkath — Combat and engineer grade rank in the Kriar military equal to a rear admiral. See also Kriar Ranks.

See Also:  kriar

telepath — Used generally to describe a person who has telepathic ability. However, the word is also often used to distinguish a group of individuals with psionic capabilities that might or might not include telepathy.

See Also:  telepathic, telepathy

telepathic — The ability to communicate via mental projection. The capabilities of telepaths ranges from simple impressions that can only be communicated across a room to creatures like the Eternals and pantheon lords that can physically control several creatures across interstellar distances.

See Also:  eternals, telepathy

telepathy — The ability to project / communicate via mental energies. See telepathic.

See Also:  mindspeak, telepathic

teleport — The act of teleporting. See teleportation.

See Also:  teleportation

teleportation — Magical teleportation was originally developed by Mandrimin (c.f.). The simple explanation is that it is a magical process which allows instantaneous transport between two locations. For the technical mage, teleportation involves two phases, the first being the extraction a simulcraic derivation of the source matter from chaotic space, then a fractal compression of the interpolated particulate helices is performed. The corresponding magical data is then compact enough to do matter / energy exchange with the target locale where the simulcra are reconstructed into their approximations. Note that the source and destination are no longer the same, but extremely accurate approximations created out of the templates located in mathematical space. [Complicated isn’t it? That’s why it takes special training to be a mage! ]

See Also:  energy, magic, teleport

temporal — Of or pertaining to Time.

Terranath, Damrosil — Damrosil is a 2nd generation member of the Band of the Crescent Moon. She has freebooted across many planets and participated in numerous adventures. Damrosil was a longtime companion of Tiernia Nirvanae and the two of them had numerous encounters with the Dream Merchants and their operatives. Damrosil and Tiernia grew apart in their later years as Tiernia settled down to build a bard school. Damrosil went on to fight in the Arcturan Death Spectacles and made the acquaintance of Beia Targallae.

Damrosil escaped the arena and shortly thereafter assumed leadership of the Jhandris’Kul clan of Myrigynes. Several years later, Beia also escaped the spectacles and returned to her home among the clans. Itching to begin adventuring again, Damrosil willingly stepped down from her seat as queen and gave the position to Beia. It was shortly after this period that the Eternal Yi began the reformation of the Protectorate with the help of Cassandra Kel’Ishtauri Felspar. By that time, Damrosil had already found the Shaladen blade Cybersong. Since Damrosil had bonded with the weapon, and few better warriors existed, the protectorate asked her to join their ranks. Damrosil accepted. Damrosil has the distinction of being the first of the indoctrinated warriors of the Shael Dal.

Tournament details: All-World’s Tournament of 1089, winner 14th circle, All-World’s Tournament of 1093, winner 15th circle, placed in top 10 of unlimited play in 5 entered tournaments. Damrosil is a veteran tournament warrior with over 312 victories at various ranks. She spent some years in the Arcturan Death Spectacles and has trained extensively with Beia Targallae. Beia and Damrosil often compete in tag-team unlimited class tournament play. When together they have never failed to place below the top 10.

See Also:  Eternity, eternals, shaladen

thane — Engineer grade rank in the Kriar military equal to an ensign. See also Kriar Ranks.

See Also:  kriar

timequake — The reaction caused by altering an event in time. The storm of changes which occur after the event changes.

Titaan — One of the core worlds of the Ring Realms, the planet from which the Band of the Crescent Moon hails (among others).

transvectoral — Transvectoral is related in concept to intervectoral time/space. Where intervectoral deals with relativism in subspace, transvectoral reflects the pseudo-temporality while undergoing transphase. Time divers who spend a lot of time moving through parallel times and spaces begin to pick up a ‘transvectoral charge’. Their bodies and equipment sublimate the unique transphase energies. Once these energies build up to a certain point, time diving becomes difficult and anomaly compensation begins to break down. Worse, if the transvectoral charge is allowed to build up, the actual molecular structure of the diver’s body and equipment begins to disintegrate.

Tunespinner, Arabella — See Arabella. Arabella’s surname is little known as she keeps it hidden from the general public for many and various reasons. Many surmise that ‘tunespinner’ is also an alias. Why she keeps it secret is another mystery.

Tymoril — Dragon that traveled with Kegari. She accompanies Bannor extensively while he is in Gladshiem. See also Kegari.

See Also:  dragon

—  U  —

—  V  —

Vale, Corim Erik — Corim Vale is a well-known tournament competitor, scholar, and treasure hunter. He is also a devotee in the ways of Mataya, following the lore-knight’s code of ethics. In 1094 at the Blackstar Tournament he was overall winner in three events. He has an exceptional tournament record spanning 253 bouts, 211 victories, 31 draws, with only 12 losses.

For several cycles Corim toured the tournament circuit, using his winnings to further his studies and finance his treasure hunting. In the various tournament towns he would tell stories, pass along information, and teach on various subjects making him known as a kind of pseudo-bard.

As a solo adventurer he was moderately successful, not easily able to penetrate deeply into the wild lands without the support of an entire exploration group. All of the magic items in his personal arsenal are the result of those explorations. Corim’s solo treks in the wilderness were sharply curtailed when he ran afoul of a large and rather irritable green dragon. The creature did it’s best to eat him but soon found his sharp sword and tournament honed strength made him a rather unpalatable meal. The encounter left scars on the fighter that will not be soon forgotten.

One of Corim’s unusual abilities is his unusually strong metapathic talent. Metapaths, like empaths, can sense the emotions of others, however metapaths actually manipulate the emotions and mental states of others around them. Corim comes into this ability unusually late in life, and the first manifestations of the talent are raw and uncontrolled. When unfocused, this talent can evoke an instinctive hostile reaction in the creatures it touches. This caused Corim quite some trouble until Cassin Kel’Ishtauri Felspar and Annawen Kel’Ishtauri Felspar help him get the ability under control.

Not long after the dragon incident, Corim decided to take root and formalize his scholarly studies. He heard that the Falorian academy for warriors paid its instructors well and decided that it would make a good substitute for constantly wandering from kingdom to kingdom pursuing the various tournaments. With his tournament record in hand he set out to qualify for the coveted 7th circle teaching position.

It was in the school that he made the acquaintance of Ceraph, Talorian Falor’s Elf talent scout. Due to the effects of Corim’s metapathic ability, Ceraph becomes infatuated with him. It is also around this time that Corim has an encounter with Beia Targallae. It is shortly thereafter that Corim becomes involved with Meridian Arcturan and the Death Spectacles.

A combination of good looks, gentlemanly propriety, and metapathic talent makes Corim an unintentional lady’s man. He becomes involved with Ceraph, catches the eye of Annawen Felspar, and even gets the ancient Belkirin Dulcere to notice him. It is Dulcere who Corim falls in love with, other entanglements aside. The young man’s troubles do not end there. In the pursuit of Meridian, and his attempt to avenge the “death” of his friends that Corim chases down Rakaar Steelsheen. On the Baronian’s starship Corim encounters and frees the warmage’s battle-nurse Senalloy. After the combat which takes Rakaar’s life, but seriously injures Corim, Senalloy sets her eyes and Desires on him. Eventually, the Baronian’s forward and lascivious behavior becomes a wedge between Corim and Dulcere.

By the end of the events in Shaladen Chronicles: A Knot In Time Corim has been indoctrinated into the ranks of the Shael Dal, and has been temporarily given protectorate enforcer beta status in the wake of Aarlen Frielos’ breakdown. Aarlen’s mental patterns have taken residence in Corim’s body, and the Shaladen Stellaraac now answers his call…

See Also:  Corresont, Senalloy Moirae, dragon, Eternity, eternals, Frielos, Aarlen, magic, shaladen

valkur — The race of winged creatures to which the valkyries belong.

valkyrie — Winged warrior women who serve both the Aesir and Vanir. They have many immortal qualities but are not truly immortal like their masters. These winged women come in all shapes, sizes, skin, and hair colors. There are three major recognized sects of Valkyrie which comprise the Valkurum, the ‘Chosen’ who serve Odin, and the ‘Ascendants’ who serve Ukko. The third group, the ‘Bloodguard’ also serve Odin, but they are not ‘true’ Valkyrie in the sense that they ‘earned their wings’ as the other two sects did but are instead magical creations that did not ‘ascend to heaven’ as did the other two groups. Both the Chosen and the Ascendants revile the Bloodguard, especially since they receive favored status without having earned it. This situation was only worsened when Ukko began using them as well.

valkyries — Plural of Valkyrie. See Valkyrie.

varkath — Combat and engineer grade rank in the Kriar military equal to a vice admiral. See also Kriar Ranks.

See Also:  kriar

Vilesilencer, The — Loric Felspar’s sobriquet is “The Vilesilencer” a reference to his days trying to destroy the evil of the pantheon lords when their influence was stronger in the mortal worlds.

See Also:  Felspar, Loric

Vinax, Koass — The prime commander eternal of the Universal Protectorate. Koass has a wife named Megan, and two step-daughters Ralani and Silvia.

See Also:  Eternity, eternals

Vinax, Megan — Active member of the Shael Dal wielding the Shaladen blade Sharonsheen, wife of Supreme Commander Vinax. After the revival of the Eternals, Megan was the first mortal to become part of the Alpha rank Protectorate by marriage.

Megan was once the personal second of the pantheon lord Ukko. As an air-maiden she upheld the Valkur law and represented the ranks of the ‘ascendants’ sect of Valkyries (the ‘chosen’ serve the pantheon lord Odin, Ukko’s brother). However, during a period of time when Dorian Degaba Felspar and Thamara Narrimar Tarrantil were doing duties for Ukko at the behest of Bertram Tarrantil they became aware of certain “abuses” going on between Ukko and the Ascendants—particularly in the case of Megan and also her close friend and colleague Adwena.

Due to the abuses she witnessed, Dorian tried to convince Megan and Adwena to leave Ukko. Megan having served the lord for millennia was of course loyal to him. Ukko got wind of Dorian’s attempts to persuade the two Ascendants away from him and in truly arrogant fashion made statements to the effect of ‘owning’ the Ascendants, and Megan and Adwena in particular. His behavior worsened, and more and more light was shown on how little freedom the air-maiden’s truly had even though lip-service had been given to them being a part of Vanir pantheon.

Because of the pressure of these new happenings, and some truly brutal fallout as a result of the spectres that Dorian had uncovered, Megan was eventually persuaded to leave. For some time, she and Dorian were very close, especially in the inconsolable times shortly after she chose to break from Ukko. The two of them gradually grew apart because Megan wanted a monogamous relationship, and a more committed partner.

Megan finally got her wish when Koass Vinax proposed to her in 1087. They are finally married in 1089. Megan has two children with Dorian, Ralani who Dorian foathrad, and Silvia who Megan foathrad. Megan remains close to the Felspar clan, and her children school with the other clan children. Her daughter Ralani is particularly regarded amongst the children for her leadership qualities.

See Also:  Eternity, eternals, Ishtarvariku, Dorian Degaba, shaladen

void — Of or pertaining to space.

—  W  —

warmage — A mage specializing in warfare and battle magic. Often warmage’s are trained in the martial arts and in weapons mastery. They are typically trained tacticians and strategists as well. When employed by a Kingdom or territory, warmages often act as generals and lead the troops into battle, devastating the enemy ranks with their magic.

See Also:  magic

Warstar — Name of the shaladen blade first wielded by Tal Falor and shared with Dominique Ariok. Due to some friction between Algernon D’Tarin and his eternal master, Nethra. With the agreement of their boss eternals, Tal and Algernon agreed to switch blades and responsibilities (Tal didn’t have any problems taking orders from a woman). The blade Warstar confers immense physical strength to the wielder allowing them to perform truly Herculean feats of muscle. The blade also has the ability to stasis (freeze in time) any creature it comes in contact with. See shaladen.

See Also:  eternals, shaladen

Wysteri — Level 8 mecha healer (cybermed) who escaped the Karanganoi Baronian’s with her subnet. She and her fellows end up in the employ of the T’Evagduran family.

See Also:  cybermed, mecha, Mercedes

—  X  —

Xersis — Honorary shaladen blade given to Bannor to assist him while his savant powers healed. Bannor proves to be a very good shaladen wielder. How long he will keep the blade is unknown.

See Also:  shaladen

Xygon — Unfortunate avatar of Set who happened to come upon Wren and her friends after they had become ascendants. It didn’t go well…

See Also:  avatar, Kergatha, Liandra {Wren} Idun-daughter

—  Y  —

yamah — A Kriar combat healer (mecha) serving Quasar.

See Also:  kriar, mecha

yggrasil — The great tree of life tended by Idun.

—  Z  —

Return to Contents

About The Author

First published in 1983, Will Greenway started his creative career wanting to draw and script comics. After a number of years, he found writing better suited to his skills. Aside from writing and art, Will is a self-taught programmer, PC technician, and network troubleshooter. He enjoys skiing, racquetball, Frisbee golf, and is steadfast supporter of role-playing games. To date he has completed eighteen novels more than twenty short stories, and numerous articles on writing. He resides in the Spring Valley suburb of south San Diego.

The Ring Realms, the shared universe his novels take place in, has an online presence at http://www.ringrealms.com (which has a LOT of detailed information about the universe and its inhabitants).

As Will’s “universe” is so complex the following is some information that may help with timelines:

Wren Kergatha (whose story line starts earliest of the three series) interacts with many of the characters depicted in the Chronicles. She also is the savior savant who befriends and helps Bannor in the Reality’s Plaything series.

So the chronological order to the events of the novels roughly follows the list below.

(Numbers specify the summer cycle N.I.S [New Ivaneth Standard]):

1100 Savant’s Blood: Shadow of the Avatar
1102 Savant’s Blood: Hecate’s Bounty
1103 Aesir’s Blood
1108 Shaladen Chronicles: A Knot In Time
1108 Shaladen Chronicles: Anvil of Sorrow
1109 Reality’s Plaything
1109 ‘Neath Odin’s Eye
1110 Gaea’s Legacy: Eternal’s Agenda
1110 Gaea’s Legacy: Savants Ascendant
1110 Gaea’s Legacy: The Infinity Annihilator
1111 Shaladen Chronicles: Who Mourns the Creator
1111 Gaea’s Blood
1123 War of the Genemar
* N.I.S = New Ivaneth Standard.

Since the initial conception, the idea for the War of the Genemar has been broken into a multi-book series. What I have in mind for that story will not fit into a standard novel length. There are simply too many characters and too many side plots.

If you are more inclined to follow a particular character’s storyline and not care to read chronologically the series are:

Reality’s Plaything Series—Tales following the adventures of Bannor Starfist:
1. Reality’s Plaything (http://www.readerseden.com/product.php?productid=181)
2. ‘Neath Odin’s Eye (http://www.readerseden.com/product.php?productid=182)
3. Gaea’s Legacy: Eternal’s Agenda (http://www.readerseden.com/product.php?productid=630)
4. Gaea’s Legacy: Savants Ascendant (http://www.readerseden.com/product.php?productid=700)
5. Gaea’s Legacy: The Infinity Annihilator

Savant’s Blood Series—Tales following the adventures of Wren Kergatha:
1. Savant’s Blood: Shadows of the Avatar (http://www.readerseden.com/product.php?productid=586)
2. Savant’s Blood: Hecate’s Bounty (http://www.readerseden.com/product.php?productid=598)
3. Aesir’s Blood
4. Gaea’s Blood

Shaladen Chronicles Series—Tales following the adventures of Corim Vale.
1. A Knot In Time (http://www.readerseden.com/product.php?productid=183)
2. Anvil of Sorrow
3. Who Mourns the Creator

War of the Genemar Series—Tales following Vhina Starfist and the Children of Gaea:
1. Child of Ascendants
2. The Karanganoi Gambit
3. The Chyrith Agenda
4. Gaea’s Revenge
5. The Infinite Child

You can keep track of all Will’s books on his author page:
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Table of Contents

Reality’s Plaything Book 5:The Infinity Annihilator

Dedication

A Word (or two) About Mythology

Other books in the chronicles of the Ring Realms

What Has Gone Before

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

epilogue

Glossary of Terms

About The Author

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