Miranda yawned.
After the initial shock of the enormity of the task before them wore off, boredom set in. Macros, Pug, and Dominic had resolved not to leave the Garden of the City Forever until a plan of some sort had been worked out.
They had spoken for hours, or at least Miranda had gotten hungry a couple of times, and had napped once. The only person who had seemed completely enthralled by the experience was Nakor.
The little man was sitting on a bench and seemed lost in thought when Miranda approached him with an armful of pears. ‘Want one?’ she asked.
He grinned as he nodded and took one. ‘My orange trick still works, if you want one of those.’
‘Thanks, maybe later.’ Then she said, ‘But how does it still work?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said with a perplexed smile. ‘Maybe the stuff I’m moving around doesn’t care where I am.’
‘But we’re nowhere.’
‘No,’ Nakor disagreed. ‘We’re somewhere, we just don’t have any idea of where.’
‘Or a frame of reference,’ she added.
‘Yes, you do understand.’
‘You seem impossibly cheerful for someone who has just been told he’s got to go fight a god.’
Nakor shook his head as pear juice ran down his chin. ‘No, not yet. And I don’t think ever, maybe. We need to find a way to defeat his plans, not him. If four Greater Gods can’t destroy this one, then who are we? Besides, the plan is already in place, we just have to realize what it is.’
‘I’m not sure I understand.’
He stood up and said, ‘Come along, I’ll explain.’
He led her to where Pug, Macros, and Dominic sat, under a large tree of alien foliage, and said, ‘How are you doing?’
Pug said, ‘We’ve restated the problem many times, but we seem without a hint of what to do next.’
‘That’s easy,’ said Nakor.
Macros’s eyebrows raised. ‘Oh, really? Care to share this insight with us?’
Nakor nodded and in a single motion sat cross-legged on the ground. ‘We have to fix what’s broken.’
Dominic said, ‘That is what the Order of Ishap has been doing.’
‘I know,’ said Nakor. ‘I mean all of it. Look, you’ve got to take some time to bring back the dead god. That’s not an easy thing to do.’
The old Abbot’s eyes narrowed. ‘Thank you for understanding,’ he said dryly.
‘But there’s a lot of mischief that’s gone on since this all began, that we need to do something about now!’ said Nakor.
‘Such as?’ asked Pug.
‘Well, one thing,’ answered Nakor, ‘we have those demons. We can’t have them running around. They cause much too much trouble. Even the little ones can be very dangerous.’
‘I remember when Murmandamus’s magicians gated in some flying demons years ago, before the Great Uprising was crushed. That should have alerted me that something was amiss. I mistook it for a common spell of summoning,’ admitted Pug.
‘We can spend a lifetime in regrets,’ said Macros, ‘if we let ourselves.’ He looked at his daughter, who returned his scrutiny with a natural expression.
‘Yes,’ said Nakor. ‘Regrets are foolish. Now, your other question. As for putting things right, that’s simple. We defeat the Emerald Queen, get this invading army turned around and headed home, kill all the Pantathians who are left alive – because we can’t change their nature – and make sure no one gets to the Lifestone. Oh, and chase all the demons back to their own realm.’
‘Is that all?’ Miranda said sarcastically, with mock wide-eyed wonder.
Dominic said, ‘Nakor, you pose very interesting questions, intriguing solutions, but little advice on how to go about reaching those solutions.’
‘That’s easy,’ said Nakor. ‘We have to go plug up the hole.’
‘What hole?’ asked Macros.
‘The one the demons are coming through. That could be very nasty in a short while.’
Pug sighed. ‘He’s right. The Emerald Queen’s army is a catastrophe, but a major invasion of demons would make it look like a bunch of street roughs trying to roll a drunk.’
‘But I think that might wait until we defeat the Emerald Queen,’ said Nakor. ‘What we’ve seen of the demons indicates they haven’t fully reached into this realm yet, and while they’re influencing the Emerald Queen, she is the one who is here. For all we know, once she has the Lifestone, she may use it to bring the demons into our world.’
‘What are we missing?’ said Miranda.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Pug.
‘I don’t know,’ she said, concern clearly written on her face. ‘Somewhere in all of this is a missing piece, something to do with why we’re not swooping down on the invasion fleet as it reaches the deepest part of the ocean and sinking it.’
‘There are a lot of Pantathian priests on those ships,’ said Nakor. ‘They may not have Pug’s power, or Macros’s, or yours, but together –’
‘Pug could destroy them in seconds,’ Miranda interrupted. ‘I saw what he did in the Celestial City; I’m not a beginner. I’ve been studying magic for two centuries, and what he did is so far beyond my abilities it’s staggering.’
Macros nodded. ‘He forced himself into my mind … Sarig’s mind, and ripped me away like pulling a cork from a bottle. This was no trivial thing.’
Pug said, ‘It’s not that simple.’
‘It is that simple,’ said Miranda. ‘If we don’t act, a lot of people are going to die.’
‘What if we’re wrong?’ asked Pug. ‘What if we die in the attempt?’
‘Life is risks,’ answered Macros’s daughter, and for a brief second Pug saw the resemblance between father and daughter.
‘If we perish,’ said Pug, ‘then there is nothing to stop the Emerald Queen from taking the Lifestone.’
‘There’s Tomas,’ reminded Miranda.
Pug thought it over for a long time, then said, ‘First we must make sure that Tomas knows what we are going to do.’
‘Agreed,’ said Macros.
‘Send Nakor and Dominic to Tomas,’ said Macros.
‘No!’ said Nakor. ‘I want to see what you’re going to do.’
‘Your curiosity is endless,’ said Pug, ‘but we’re going to be facing something awesome by any standards.’ As Nakor started to object, Pug raised his hand and cut him off. ‘You claim there is no magic, but you know more about the workings of magic than just about anyone else in Midkemia, save Macros, Miranda, and me.’
Nakor’s eyes narrowed. ‘I always wanted to ask you about that,’ he said. ‘You told James to tell me “There is no magic” a long time ago, to get me to go to Stardock, and I always wanted to know about that.’
Pug smiled. ‘I’ll tell you when this is all over.’
Nakor’s grin returned. ‘Very well, but we have a few problems to address before we return.’
‘Yes,’ said Dominic. ‘No one may return to Midkemia with the knowledge of Nalar or even a desire to discover that knowledge intact. While the God of Evil is locked away, Midkemia is his home, and he will attune his influence to anyone who is receptive, much as Sarig took Macros to his service all those years ago.’
‘Have you the means to remove the memory of Nalar, Dominic?’ asked Pug. ‘We can put blocks on our own minds, not letting the knowledge surface, but it will still be there.’
Dominic nodded. ‘Among our order it is common to deal with just this sort of problem, as we cannot let anyone know the secret of Ishap and the other Controller Gods. If you do as I instruct, we will leave here ignorant of Nalar.’ He turned to face Macros. ‘You trod perilously close to becoming Nalar’s tool, had you not been protected by the lingering magic of Sarig. Even though the God of Magic gave you that protection, it will not last.’
‘I know,’ said Macros, ‘but we had to understand what we faced.’
‘Agreed,’ said Dominic, ‘though the High Father in Rillanon will find it difficult to accept my word.’
‘Is that what you did, sending that sealed chest?’ asked Miranda.
Dominic nodded. ‘Each Abbot at Sarth prepares against the time of great trial, when we shall see the abbey destroyed. Against that day we are preparing another place, one that will be called That Which Was Sarth. The repository exists and awaits, and we only waited for the foretold sign.’
‘And we were that sign?’
Dominic nodded. ‘In our dealings with the Greater Gods, we have come to understand their limits as well as their power; they communicate to us in a fashion that can only be called disjointed. One thing above all else, though, was the event of our first contact, ages ago, when we were warned that one would come, with companions, who knew the secret and at that time the world would change. Yes, your arrival is the signal that we need to begin moving the great library at Sarth to That Which Was Sarth.’
Miranda said, ‘Where are you moving the library to?’
‘To a location, high in the mountains of Yabon, where it will be safe.’
‘Well, if the Emerald Queen gets her hands on the Lifestone, nothing will be safe,’ Pug observed.
Miranda said, ‘Then let us set about forgetting the reason behind this horror.’
Dominic indicated they should sit in a circle and join hands. The old cleric said, ‘Close your eyes, and open your minds to me. When we have finished you will know nothing of Nalar. You will only know that you have forgotten something, but rather than be curious, you will be relieved. You will know that it is vital that you not remember this thing, for to do so would bring danger beyond any you imagine. You will remember enough of what we have talked about to be aware of your chosen course of action, but of Nalar, the only thing you will recall is that out there, somewhere, a grave danger lurks, one against which you must remain vigilant, but one which you must never seek to know.’
Dominic began his incantation and all of them felt a strange presence enter their minds, which began to order knowledge. For a brief instant each felt a mild discomfort, and a flash of fear, which was instantly replaced by a calm reassurance, and then, suddenly, it was done.
Pug blinked and said, ‘It’s over?’
Dominic said, ‘Yes. You remember what you need to remember, and the rest is safely locked away. It must be so.’
They took what he said at face value. ‘We must go now,’ Dominic said.
‘First I will take you and Nakor to Elvandar,’ said Pug. He glanced at Miranda and her father. ‘Then we go to face the Emerald Queen.’
Tomas awaited in the glade where Tathar and Acaila had overseen their protection. He stood resplendent in his armor of white and gold. Behind him waited the warriors of Elvandar, Calin and Redtree at their head.
‘It is time?’ asked Tomas as soon as they materialized.
‘Not yet,’ said Pug, ‘but soon. Get word to Stone Mountain and the Grey Towers. Call the dwarves to war. You know where to lead them when they gather.’
Tomas nodded, and started issuing instructions to elven runners nearby. Pug had alerted him of their coming, using a mental call agreed upon by the two boyhood friends years before. Nakor and Dominic moved away from the three magicians, and Pug came up to Tomas. ‘We go to challenge the Emerald Queen before she reaches our shore. Should we fail, the war will come to you eventually. You know the stakes. You must convince Dolgan and Halfdan down in Dorgin to come to the Kingdom’s aid.’
Tomas nodded. ‘Dolgan will come. He and I have too much between us for him to ignore my call. Halfdan will come because Dolgan comes.’ He smiled and for a moment Pug saw his boyhood friend again, behind the mask of the alien warrior. ‘The dwarves of Dorgin never forgave Dolgan for not inviting them to the last war.’
Pug looked around the glade, as if drinking in the calm beauty, imprinting it on his memory. It was early evening here in Elvandar, so it would be morning where the invading fleet would be found.
Pug gripped Tomas’s hand and said, ‘Good-bye, my friend.’
Tomas squeezed lightly. ‘Be well. I will see you when we celebrate this victory.’
Pug only nodded.
He turned and came to where Macros and Miranda waited, reached out and took their hands. Suddenly they were gone.
Nakor said, ‘We have much to do, and less time to do it in than we might wish for.’
Tomas nodded. ‘I fear you are correct.’
Dominic said, ‘I need to reach our abbey in the Grey Towers. From there our brothers can transport me to anyplace in the Kingdom where we have an abbey or temple.’
Tomas motioned to an elf. ‘Galain, see to horses for the morning.’ To Nakor and Dominic he said, ‘You will dine and rest, and leave in the morning.’
Nakor said, ‘No, Sho Pi and I will stay here. I think we will be needed here, soon.’
Nakor was without his ever-present grin, and Dominic said, ‘You’re fearful?’
‘Yes,’ said the little man. ‘I know why Pug does this thing, and it is unwise, I think. He does it as much to prove his love for Miranda as to defeat the enemy, and while I believe she is right in assessing his power, I think she underestimates the power of the Emerald Queen and the Pantathians.’ Then he added in a low voice to Dominic, ‘And vastly underestimates the third player.’
Dominic’s eyes widened and he pulled Nakor aside as the elves walked on. ‘What do you remember?’
‘All of it,’ said Nakor. Something strange burned in the little man’s eyes. ‘I have my own ways of protecting my mind, Abbot, just as you do. Those three magicians like to think they know a lot about the many paths of magic, but they still think too much along one path. You and I know there are many paths, many ways to proceed. Or no paths, if you look at it another way. You have no need to worry about my falling under the Nameless One’s influence.’
‘Who are you?’ asked Dominic.
A grin spread across Nakor’s face. ‘Just a gambler who knows some tricks.’
Dominic said, ‘If you weren’t clearly working for our cause, I would fear you, I think.’
Nakor shrugged. ‘Those who aren’t my friends do well to fear me, for as I said, I know a few tricks.’
With that enigmatic pronouncement, Nakor walked after the elves, leaving a very shaken old Abbot with much to ponder.
‘What next?’ said Miranda.
Macros pointed downward. ‘There!’
The three magicians hovered high above the clouds as hundreds of miles of shimmering water spread out below. Pug turned his eyes to the point Macros indicated and saw the fleet of the Emerald Queen.
‘It’s huge,’ said Miranda.
‘More than six hundred ships,’ said Macros. ‘Close to seven hundred.’
‘They must have been building somewhere we didn’t know about,’ offered Pug. He, like Miranda, had stayed abreast of the intelligence coming from Calis’s agents in Novindus.
‘We need a plan,’ said Miranda.
Pug said, ‘Here’s the plan: I will swoop down to confront the Emerald Queen and her Pantathian servants. When they spring whatever trap they have waiting for me, you two come in and catch them by surprise.’
Macros said, ‘No, I’ll come in. Alone.’
As Miranda started to object, Macros said, ‘Your job is to get us out of there if this doesn’t work.’
She considered a moment, and while the wind sent her hair streaming out behind her, Pug thought he had never seen her looking more beautiful. ‘Very well,’ she said.
Pug quickly kissed her and said, ‘Place a spell of recall upon us all.’
Miranda said, ‘Where do we travel if we have to leave in a hurry?’
Pug had already considered the question. ‘Elvandar,’ he said. ‘The elves have the best healers in the world, and we may need them. They also have the best magic wards if something tries to follow us.’
She nodded. ‘Telling you to be careful would be the height of foolishness.’ She kissed her father’s cheek. ‘Be careful.’
Then she kissed Pug passionately. ‘Stay alive.’
Pug and Macros lowered toward the fleet and Macros said, ‘Am I going to be a father-in-law?’
Pug said, ‘If we somehow live through this.’
Macros said, ‘Then I’ll see you do.’
‘I’m counting on it,’ said Pug, and Macros laughed. ‘What do you propose to do?’ he asked.
‘I think a direct approach is best.’ Pug considered a moment. ‘I’m certain they expect me to come at them sometime between now and when they reach the Straits.’
‘They might expect you at the Straits.’
‘That is too late. If I fail, there is no time to regroup, but if I come now …’
‘What should I do?’
‘Be ready to provide me with a distraction. They have no knowledge you’re back.’ Then he muttered, ‘At least, I hope they don’t.’ He spoke up: ‘If I get into trouble, do something to give me a chance to escape, but don’t put yourself at risk; rely on Miranda to get us both out.’
‘I’ll do what I must,’ said Macros.
‘Then let us begin,’ said Pug.
He faded from Macros’s sight, and the sorcerer knew he was attempting to get as close as possible to the ship upon which the Emerald Queen rode before revealing himself. Macros let his own enhanced senses reach out and locate Pug, following him as he approached the fleet.
Pug swooped down over the vanguard of the flotilla. A full score of warships formed a V at the head of the fleet. On either flank another twenty ships guarded the bulk of the armada. At the rear came a squadron of faster warships, tacking back and forth, ready to race forward and give support on either side if the need arose.
Pug saw the Emerald Queen’s ship, dead center of a huge cluster of transport ships. Pug used his magic vision, attempting to locate his quarry.
As if watching through a crystal, he saw her with the lens of his magic perception: she rested upon a throne, set amidships, upon a wallowing galley rowed by three banks of oars. Surrounding her were an honor guard of some of the most evil-looking creatures Pug had ever spied. Each exuded a miasma of foulness like a cloud of smoke, trailing along behind him.
Two men stood on either side of the Queen. To her right was a human, whom Pug took to be General Fadawah. There was nothing soft in his features or demeanor. He looked as if carved from unyielding stone. His head was shaved, save for a single topknot of hair gathered together and allowed to fall down his back. His face was scarred, and Pug recognized the marks; they had been described to him by those who had faced the moredhel outlaw chieftain Murad, when Prince Arutha had quested after the Silverthorn plant that he needed to save his betrothed’s life.
At the Queen’s other hand a robed figure stood, a Pantathian to outward appearance. Pug could detect no features beneath the creature’s hood. Pug gently sent energies down to the ship, attempting to detect any countermeasures. There was a flow of communication between the ship and other agents, near and far away. And there were detection spells, which he easily avoided.
That made him suspicious and he sought to investigate behind those spells. As he suspected, there was a second array of wards, cleverly masked by the clumsy detection spells, and he had been close to activating them.
He studied his enemy’s defenses and made ready his attack.
Pug gathered his energies, determined to blast this ship from existence. He would deal with the other ships and the serpent priests who rode them after disposing of the Queen. As energy gathered around him, Pug sensed probing energies of an alien nature, from an unknown source.
Suddenly those on the ship below were running and pointing. A handful of robed figures appeared upon the decks and began incanting wards of protection.
But they were too late, as Pug unleashed a tremendous blast of mystic energy, enough to ignite the entire ship in a funeral pyre. A crimson ball of fire exploded from his fingertips, hurling like a comet of death at the Emerald Queen’s ship. The explosion was deafening and blinding, and as it ignited, Pug suddenly sensed his mistake.
‘Flee!’ he sent to Macros and Miranda. ‘It’s a trap!’
The bolt of energy encountered a counterspell, one woven into the very fabric of the ship itself. Weeks of execution had been involved in this, the most subtle thing the Pantathians had undertaken since Pug’s first encounter with them years before. The cloth in the sails, the tar in the deck, the nails in the hull, and the wood of the spars – all had been imbued with this countermagic. And the wards of detection and the incanting of the Pantathian priests had been nothing more than masks to hide the tell-tale traces of this subtle magic.
Pug’s defenses were hardly in place when his own magic was turned back upon him. The fireball ran back up its previous course, seeking its source. Furious energies exploded around him, blinding and deafening him, rendering him near-senseless. Reflexes took over, and he attempted to put distance between himself and the ship. Red flames consumed Pug, and only his own incredible power and instinct kept him from being incinerated in an instant.
Then those upon the ship unleashed their own attacks, and Pug suffered.
A presence manifested itself to Pug as he struggled to avoid the next wave of pain. ‘Puny mage! Do you think we were unaware of your pitiful scheming? You are but a pawn in a game so much more vast than any you can imagine. Now die!’
At that instant, Pug saw the face of his true enemy. Where the Emerald Queen had sat, the illusion was pierced. A demon crouched upon the golden throne under the canopy athwart the galley. Mystic chains went from his taloned hand to magic collars around the necks of the Pantathian and General Fadawah. They were clearly under the demon’s control and both looked upward helplessly.
‘I am Jakan, and I shall rule here!’
Agony raced through every fiber of Pug’s being as his protective wards were stripped away from him. The robes on his body burst into flames and his hair and skin began to burn. A scream erupted from lungs scorched and blistered and his eyes shriveled in his head. He struggled to escape, but the pain was overwhelming, and he lost all control. His mind fled from the pain, and as he felt darkness closing around him, he also felt himself tumbling through the air.
Then a pair of arms grabbed him, and a groan of agony came from Pug as he was carried aloft, every movement an agony for him. Macros sent word to Miranda: ‘Get us out of here now!’
Even the chilled air burned his flaming skin as Pug lapsed into darkness.
‘Will he live?’ asked Miranda, fear etched into her features.
‘I don’t know,’ answered Tathar.
Dominic and Nathan looked on in horror at the thing that had been Pug. His body was smoking and charred, and in several places white bone showed through. Acaila said, ‘It’s a miracle he lives still.’
Nakor pushed through and said, ‘Life is strong in this man. It holds strongly here. We must help it.’
Nakor put his hands above his head a moment, then incanted. He placed his hands upon Pug’s chest, over his heart, and said, ‘I need whatever strength you can spare.’
Instantly the Spellweavers of Elvandar began to spin their magic. Dominic lent his skills, using a spell of healing, the most powerful he knew.
Nakor felt the energy course through him, down his arms and into Pug’s chest. Faintly, under the palm of Nakor’s right hand, he could feel the fluttering beat of Pug’s heart. Slowly it strengthened, as if drinking the energy from Nakor and the others like a dry sponge in water.
Nakor felt himself tingle with the flow, but he focused, and attempted to see the energy sites in Pug’s body. ‘One of you, put hands over his head,’ he said.
Acaila did as he was bid, and Nakor closed his eyes a moment.
In the elven glade more and more came to witness the healing. Tomas strode into the ring of watchers, who stepped aside to let him approach his friend. Nakor opened his eyes and said, ‘Good. Put your hands over his throat. He burned his lungs, and I need help.’
Nakor closed his eyes and directed the energies flowing into Pug.
Time passed and night gave way to day, and still they labored, kneeling for hours letting the healing energies of their own bodies as well as the ancient magic of Elvandar flow into the injured magician.
Near noon, Nakor faltered and found familiar hands gripping his arm. ‘Master?’ came Sho Pi’s enquiry.
‘I’ll be fine,’ said Nakor. ‘I just need rest.’
‘I’ll take over,’ said Nakor’s student, and he stepped into the position his master had occupied, placing his hands upon Pug’s chest.
Miranda came over, and from her drawn expression and red eyes, Nakor could see she had been weeping. ‘Will he live?’
Nakor said, ‘I don’t know. A lesser man would have died instantly. Most greater men would be dead now, but there’s something in him that hangs on.’ He looked at the man lying on the floor of the glade, upon the grass, and said, ‘He looks very small and vulnerable now, doesn’t he?’
‘Yes,’ said Miranda, her voice heavy with emotion.
Nakor sighed. It was obvious he was exhausted from his efforts. ‘The longer he hangs on, the better his chances that he will survive. We are all channeling healing energies to him, and as long as he has a will to live, he continues to live. I told Nicholas once that in some men life is weak and in others it is strong. For one such as myself, your father, or yourself, it must be strong for us to abide all the years we continue to exist, but for Pug it’s something more.’ Trying to be reassuring, he added, ‘I think he will live.’
Miranda looked into Nakor’s eyes. ‘You don’t think that, do you?’
Nakor tried to force a grin, but it failed. ‘No, I don’t. We will do all we can, but he is injured far beyond what I’ve seen any man endure.’ His eyes revealed a hint of deep regret, then he forced back that doubt and assumed his usual cheerful mantle. ‘But what do I know? I’m just a gambler who has some tricks, and Tathar and the other Spellweavers are working vigorously.’ He patted her hand in a fatherly fashion. ‘He will be all right, I’m sure.’
She looked into Nakor’s face and saw the words were empty, but she appreciated the gesture and nodded, walking over to stand beside her father.
Nakor watched her move away, then looked at Pug’s face, the oozing, cracked skin, the blackened arms and legs. ‘But if he does, it will be a very long time before he fights again.’
Days passed, and Pug’s condition remained unchanged. The Spellweavers, Nakor, and Sho Pi, worked in shifts, pouring as much healing magic as possible into the unconscious magician. Only exhaustion forced them from his side.
Nakor returned from another half-day spent healing Pug, and sat down heavily next to Macros and Miranda, who were eating their supper next to a fire.
‘How is he?’ asked Miranda.
‘The same,’ said Nakor, shaking his head slightly. ‘I fear he grows weaker.’
Miranda’s grief was openly revealed as tears gathered in her eyes. ‘He’s not going to live, is he?’
Nakor shrugged. ‘I do not know. It may be a long time before we do know.’
Macros placed his hands upon his daughter’s shoulders. ‘And we don’t have a long time, do we?’
Nakor shook his head. ‘No. And again we find another mystery.’
Macros said, ‘Yes.’
Nakor said, ‘I’m going to sleep awhile, then I think we need hold council with the Queen and Tomas.’
‘I agree,’ said Macros.
The three of them rose to find places to sleep and parted company. Nakor couldn’t help returning to the clearing a moment and looking at Pug. The magician remained motionless, the only sign of his still being alive the slight rise and fall of his ribs as Sho Pi continued to keep his hands upon Pug’s charred chest. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but Nakor thought Pug’s breathing might be slightly deeper and more regular than before. Again he wondered at the small magician’s strength and will to live.
Aglaranna looked around the circle and said, ‘Tathar says Pug will live. It will be a long time before he regains consciousness and longer still before he heals, but with our arts we can restore his damaged skin and hair, heal the broken bones and burned tissue.’
The relief was almost tangible in the council, especially on the faces of Tomas and Miranda.
Macros said, ‘Pug was right and we were not.’
Miranda’s expression showed she felt terrible guilt over her part in Pug’s precipitate attack. ‘It is my fault.’
Nakor said, ‘It is no one’s fault or everyone’s fault. No one forced Pug, your father and you to attack the Emerald Queen. We thought it risky and it was.’
‘They were better prepared than we anticipated,’ said Miranda.
‘More than that,’ said Macros. To Miranda he said, ‘You were too far removed from the battle to see what Pug and I saw, and you have no way of knowing.’
‘What?’
‘The woman who was your mother is but a shell, an illusion. I suspect she is long dead. The creature at the head of this army is a demon. He identified himself to Pug as Jakan.’
‘Jakan?’ said Nakor.
‘You’ve heard of him?’ asked Miranda.
‘In a roundabout way,’ said the little man. ‘He’s a demon captain, not a big one, like Tugor, First Servant to Maarg, Ruler of the Fifth Circle, but one with some reputation.’
Tathar said, ‘We have had contact with such once or twice in the history of our race. How do you know of them, human?’
Nakor shrugged. ‘You hear things, here and there.’
Miranda said, ‘You’re an infuriating little man.’
Nakor grinned. ‘Your mother said the same to me when we were married.’ He sighed. ‘I wish I had had a daughter like you.’
Macros said, ‘No you don’t.’
Suddenly laughter filled the council and everyone knew the relief was at Pug’s apparent recovery as much as from the banter. Then Nakor’s expression turned serious. ‘About a century or so ago I found my way into the Hall of Worlds and spent some time at Honest John’s. It’s a good place to gamble.’ He made a sour face. ‘Hard place to cheat. Anyway, in the course of my time there I heard about some troubles with the demons.’
‘Such as?’ prompted Macros.
‘That someone was stirring them up and they were attempting to breach the barriers out of the Fifth Circle into the higher realms.’
‘Someone provided them a way,’ suggested Macros.
‘That’s what worries me,’ said Tomas. ‘In the memories of the Valheru, we struggled with the demons, and among our foes, only the Dread were more powerful. But the Dread and the demons were confined to realms far from our own, and for them to be here, both at the time of the Riftwar and now, means an agency of great power is behind all of this.’
Macros and Miranda exchanged looks. ‘I sense we know something …’ said Miranda.
‘Knew something,’ said Macros. To the Queen and Tomas he said, ‘There are larger forces at play here, but I also have some sense that we have limits as to what we may do. I suggest we consider what may be our next best course of action.’
Tomas said, ‘It’s obvious the fleet is well protected and that another attack of the sort Pug mounted would prove unwise.’
‘Agreed,’ said Macros. ‘They may not know my and Miranda’s abilities, but they must know Pug has allies of significant power and have defenses in place. This demon who has taken the Emerald Queen’s place may not be a great demon lord, but he has firm control of those around us, from what little I glimpsed as I saved Pug.
‘We must consider the risk that the demons are in a position to slip more of their captains and lords through into Midkemia. We must attend to that danger, while I think we’d best leave the more mundane concerns of invasion to those who are best equipped to meet it: Prince Patrick, Duke James, and Knight-Marshal William.’
Tomas said, ‘We will, though we will aid them when the time comes.’
‘I understand,’ said Macros. He stood and moved to the middle of the circle. ‘With Pug injured, I must again put myself in the center of this struggle.’
Aglaranna said, ‘Years ago you came to us and were instrumental in saving our home, Macros. Your wisdom is always welcome here.’
Macros rubbed his beard. ‘My wisdom is somewhat lacking at the moment, lady. Before I had Sarig’s gift of future sight, and the ability to travel at will back and forth through time. Since the severing of our ties, I fear I have but a bare sense of where to start looking next for our course of action.’
Miranda said, ‘Well, we need to find the Rift and close it forever.’
‘Perhaps you need to look at the place Calis and Miranda found those tainted artifacts.’ It was Tathar who spoke. ‘I’ve studied the artifacts our Calis sent to us as much as anyone, and while I can put no name to the alien presence that has touched them, I can say it is powerful, and what is there is well hidden. It must be the demons, and that must be where they are entering our world.’
Acaila held up his hand and nodded in agreement. ‘Absolutely. Tathar and all the Spellweavers have indicated this is magic of great power and subtlety, well hidden, masked to disguise its origin and clever in its construction.’
Macros said, ‘That sounds likely.’
Tomas said, ‘I will go with you two.’
Miranda said, ‘I thought you never left Elvandar.’
Tomas said, ‘I vowed never to leave save at great need.’ He turned to his wife. ‘It is time.’
The Elf Queen’s face was an expressionless mask, yet her eyes betrayed a flicker of emotion. Then she calmly said, ‘I know.’
Tomas asked Macros, ‘Should I call a dragon?’
Macros said, ‘No. Miranda knows where the entrance to the caves is.’ He turned to her. ‘If you guide me,’ he said, ‘I can take the three of us there.’
Miranda said, ‘No need. I can do so.’
Tomas said to his wife, ‘Abide, and keep hope in your heart. I will come back.’
No one spoke until a few minutes later Tomas reappeared, and even though he had seen him dressed so before, Macros felt awe.
Tomas stood dressed in armor fashioned of gold, a helm and coif, chain shirt and leggings. His white tabard, bearing a golden dragon design, was cinched by his black belt, and his boots were black leather as well. His scabbard was white, looking as if carved from ivory, but it was empty.
Calin came and withdrew his own sword, handing it to his mother’s husband. ‘A loan,’ he said.
Tomas took it, nodded once, and slipped it into the scabbard. ‘I will return it soon,’ he said. To Macros and Miranda he said, ‘Come. It is time.’
He motioned and Miranda rose, took his hand and Macros’s, closed her eyes, and they were gone.
Redtree watched the empty space and said, ‘Until I saw him in that armor, I had doubts. But he is Valheru.’
Acaila said, ‘Not truly. A fact for which we should all be eternally grateful.’
No more was said.
Bitter winds swept the mountains as they appeared. Miranda blinked at the bright sunlight after the cool evening light of Elvandar. The rising sun was shining directly in her eyes. ‘Over there.’ She pointed to a cave mouth.
They moved quickly toward the dark opening and entered. Once they were inside, the noise of the wind was cut and Tomas said, ‘I see in the dark, but what of you?’
Macros raised a hand and a nimbus of light surrounded him, illuminating the cave mouth. He looked around.
Miranda said, ‘This tunnel was one I found by accident. Boldar Blood was killing some serpent warriors who were trying to block our path and I noticed a faint light from above.’
At the mention of the mercenary from the Hall of Worlds, Macros said, ‘I wouldn’t mind his sword with us, now.’
Miranda said, ‘Not to mention all those other exotic weapons he bears.’
Macros spoke under his breath, ‘But not at the prices he charges, I wager.’
Tomas laughed. ‘You keep your sense of humor, old friend.’
‘Well,’ said Miranda, ‘you’ll find little to laugh about ahead. This way.’
She led them into the tunnel, one low enough that Tomas had to duck to enter. They half scrambled, half walked down a narrow, steep incline, entering another tunnel by having to slide almost sideways into a stone alcove, about six feet above a larger tunnel.
As they jumped to the floor of the second tunnel, Macros said, ‘It’s a miracle you even noticed that entrance.’
Miranda said, ‘I was motivated. Boldar is a fearsome fighter, but he survived to reach Elvandar with me only because we were fighting a rearguard action up that narrow crawlway. Else we would have been overwhelmed.’
Macros looked around. A few bones littered the passage, and what looked to be a broken sword hilt. ‘Something has disposed of most of the mess.’
Tomas said, ‘Scavengers?’
‘Perhaps,’ said Macros. He asked Miranda, ‘Which way?’
She pointed and started walking without saying anything.
Twice they had paused to rest, though it was not so much that anyone was fatigued as to stop a moment and get their bearings. Once they opened a small bag that Macros carried, which held some small slivers of a food for travel prepared by the elves. Another time they drank from a waterskin Miranda carried.
Then they reached the first major gallery of the Pantathians. ‘There’s something close by,’ Tomas said in a low voice.
‘I feel it, too,’ said Macros.
‘Then we have a consensus,’ offered Miranda. ‘It’s that way.’
She pointed across the hall, now blanketed by dust, but full of dead and dying Pantathians when she had last passed that way. ‘Up there,’ she said, ‘we came into this hall. We saw the demon fighting the Pantathians down on the floor.’ She indicated the ridge that ran around the gallery, above their heads. ‘We crossed along there, and lowered ourselves down a rope to there.’ The location she indicated was marked by a low door, now hanging open.
‘Some Saaur and Pantathians objected, and we fought our way down that corridor.’ Glancing around, she commented, ‘I didn’t realize how close we came to doubling back when we fled down that hallway.’
Tomas said, ‘Sometime I’ll tell you of the time a wraith chased me through the ancient Mac Mordain Cadal. I survived only because I could double back and lose it in those confusing tunnels.’
Macros said, ‘I’m astonished you can find your way through here at all. It’s been over a year, and you’ve only been through here once.’
Dryly Miranda said, ‘When your life is in the balance, you’d be amazed what you remember.’
She led them to the open door. ‘It was down this way we found the artifacts.’
Tomas said, ‘We can go that way later. I’m inclined to discover who or what we feel up that way.’ He pointed to the tunnel opening Miranda had indicated she and Calis’s party had used to enter this area the previous year.
‘That way lies a passage to a central corridor, a large vertical shaft that runs from the bowels of this mountain to the peak.’
‘I know,’ said Tomas. ‘That was a common feature of the Valheru mountain holdings. Otherwise a dragon had no means to enter the central hall.’
Miranda led and they followed, and soon they were walking through another dark passage.
Time passed without measure and they went on without pause. On two occasions Macros asked Miranda if she needed to rest, a question she dismissed with a sarcastic remark. After the second rebuff, Macros decided to stop asking.
Miranda wished they could use their magic to transport ahead, but it was decided there was too much chance they might miss something. Also, without exact knowledge of the location to which they were moving, there was always the risk of materializing inside solid rock.
They descended the large shaft Miranda had described. As if the center of the mountain had been hollowed out, a large ramp spiraled up and down, cut into the stone of the mountain. The central shaft was unguarded by rail or barrier, and the wind gusts were strong enough to give one the feeling of being sucked over the edge. Large areas had been carved out of the stone at various locations, for what purpose only Tomas might know. Macros thought he might ask him sometime, but at the moment the magician was disinclined to speak without need. This wasn’t the time or place for idle chatter.
They came to another large tunnel that intersected the shaft, and a faint, unpleasant odor reached them.
‘It’s near,’ whispered Tomas, as they moved into the large hallway.
Macros sniffed and identified the stench as something rotting. ‘A lair?’ he whispered in return.
Tomas only drew his sword and moved forward. Macros let Miranda follow and took up his position at the rear of the file. The white-and-gold-clad warrior was first to enter another large gallery, near the bottom of the circular shaft.
Macros and Miranda abruptly stepped to the side, making way for him, as Tomas shouted a war cry and leaped over the edge. Macros took a quick step and met a sight that made him hesitate an instant.
A creature sat upon its haunches gnawing on a bone. It was scaled in black glinting with a faint green shine. Large batlike wings were folded upon its back, and its head was something alien, looking roughly like that of a crocodile fashioned from grey stone, with a stag’s antlers rising from the skull. If skin protected that skull, it was taut enough not to be evident at first glance, and was pulled back so that an impressive array of teeth was always on display.
Powerful shoulders melded into long arms, ending with hands tipped with talons the size of daggers.
Miranda said, ‘A demon.’
Macros was beginning an incantation, one designed to stun the creature, as Tomas landed on the stone floor before it. The demon rose up, standing a full head taller than the half-human warrior, and for an instant Macros was concerned for Tomas’s safety.
But, rather than attack, the creature pressed itself against the wall, and spoke.
A single word, in a language unknown to Miranda, but the effect on Macros and Tomas was instantaneous. Macros ceased his incantation and Tomas halted an attack in midstrike, turning his blade so that, instead of cleaving flesh, Calin’s blade struck the stone next to the creature. Sparks erupted on the wall as he cut a furrow in the stone next to the demon.
Macros leaped to his companion’s side as the brute attempted to avoid Tomas’s strike. Again the alien word was repeated and Tomas stepped back.
‘What is it?’ shouted Miranda from above.
Macros stood at Tomas’s side, not taking his eyes from the demon. The fearsome-looking being remained motionless, as if waiting, and Tomas said, ‘He yields!’
Miranda asked, ‘How do you know?’
Tomas turned to his friend. ‘That’s what he shouted. He yields.’
Miranda also jumped down, landing heavily next to Macros. ‘I speak a dozen tongues. I’ve never heard that one before. What is it?’
Tomas regarded her with confusion clearly marking his half-alien features. ‘It is the language of the Valheru. It’s the ritual phrase of submission. Our servant races spoke it as a greeting.’
Miranda looked from Tomas to the cowering demon and let out a long, slow breath, while wishing her heart would cease pounding its way out of her chest. ‘Isn’t that something.’