The Fractured Sky (33 page)

The alu bit her lip. “I can’t,” she said. “I can’t do that to him.”

“You’d rather see him bring about this terrible crime? That’s almost like aiding Cyric yourself. You’d be no better than Zasian and Kashada.” He felt a tinge of guilt at suggesting that, but she had to see the consequences of her choices. “Is that what you want?”

“Of course not!”

“Then do this. For him, as well as for me. You have to know that I will take Tautan eventually, even without your help.”

Aliisza groaned.

Micus knew he had her then.

Kaanyr groaned and became aware. The sound of battle filled his ears, but in his groggy state, it didn’t make sense at first. He rolled over, blinking to clear the cobwebs from his

mind, and peered in the direction of the fight.

Kael faced off with the planetar. The two exchanged blows, their swords ringing like hammers on an anvil with each strike. It appeared to Vhok that the celestial was getting the better of the half-drow.

I must help him, the cambion thought. He struggled to rise, but his limbs felt like jelly. Get up, Vhok. Stand and fight!

“You have the power to tell if I’m lying,” Kael said, frantically deflecting a series of vicious attacks. “Use it! I’m here because of a common enemy. Tell me how to prove that—how I can win your trust.”

The planetar’s next swing opened Kael’s defenses wide. The celestial brought his blade down again, and Kael grunted and crumpled down before the onslaught.

Rage boiled in Kaanyr. Old hatred bubbled up, disdain and spite for the rigid, holier-than-thou attitudes of cursed celestials. He rose to his knees.

“Come!” The knight shouted. “Do something smarter than just kill me, you idiot!”

Kaanyr slid his own blade free of its scabbard.

The planetar raised his sword to finish Kael off.

Kaanyr jumped, drawing on every bit of his reserves of strength. It was a weak attack, a pitiful display. But the sword dug into the planetar’s back, and black, malevolent energy crackled over the celestial.

The planetar roared in pain and staggered. His killing blow went astray enough that Kael rolled to the side to avoid it. Kaanyr fell forward to his hands and knees. The planetar pitched off balance and took three stumbling steps until he careened off the wall and sprawled.

Kael climbed to his feet, and Kaanyr noted that the

half-drow’s arm was a mangled, bloody mess. He could only drag his sword with his good hand, but he came to the cambion and proffered it as a brace. “Get up,” Kael said.

Kaanyr eyed him, but the planetar was already rising. Vhok grabbed the hilt of Kael’s sword and dragged himself to his feet. Together, they turned to the planetar.

“Since you’re too thick-headed to listen,” Kaanyr said to the emerald-skinned being, “it’s time for you to—”

Kael! Vhok! Aid me!

The desperation in Tauran’s mental message slammed into Kaanyr. The cambion wanted to resist, wanted to finish off the planetar, but Tauran’s insistence was clear.

Vhok had no choice.

Together, he and Kael lumbered forward. As they reached the celestial just rising to his feet, they slammed their shoulders into him and knocked him into the wall again. Then they aided each other down the curved hallway toward the door to the rotunda.

Very well,” Aliisza said, her voice choked with guilt. “I’ll help you.”

I hate you, she thought, glaring at Micus.

The angel did not notice, or if he did, he did not react. He nodded curtly, acknowledging her acquiescence, but otherwise, he showed no emotion.

For some odd reason, Aliisza had expected him to gloat.

“Release her,” Micus commanded, and the centaurlike construct loosened the chains around her and retracted them. “One false step, one shout of warning to try to allow Tauran to flee, and I will make certain you spend the rest of your days in a gray void, with no contact with anyone, ever again.” The angel gave Aliisza a hard stare. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” the alu snapped. “Now hurry!”

She prepared to open a dimensional portal.

“Stop,” Micus warned. “Not like that. We must follow protocol, procedure. We may not trespass on this sacred place.”

“There’s no time!” Aliisza snarled. “We have to reach him right now. Do you want my help?”

“I’ve already secured it,” Micus answered. “Would you back out of our agreement already?”

“If you don’t listen to me, yes,” the alu said. “I am not bound by your myopic sense of law. For once, you’re going to have to bend the rules a bit for the greater good.”

Micus stated at her, considering.

“Which is the bigger problem?” she demanded, “violating protocol or letting Tautan slip away again?”

Micus’s frown deepened, but he nodded. “Do it,” he said. “I will face the consequences later.”

Relieved, Aliisza opened her doorway. She nearly ran through the thing to get to Tauran.

On the other side of the portal, the alu found herself standing in the very same chamber she had seen in her vision. Everything, from the columns to the shadows, matched her memory of the place. Only the gods seemed to be missing.

Tauran crossed the middle of the chamber, bloody and panting. His mace hung from one hand, nearly dragging on the ground. One wing sat cocked at a wrong angle, and his tunic was blackened and smoking.

Across from him, Zasian Menz retreated. He limped slightly, and one arm hung uselessly at his side, but the other hand held a pendant aloft, and a faint smile shone in his eyes. as he chanted. A shimmering glow of amber light radiated around him, a magical barrier of protection.

Tauran tried to close the gap. He hefted his mace with both hands to strike at the priest. The weapon wobbled unsteadily in the air.

“No!” Aliisza shouted. “Tauran, stop!”

The alu felt Micus step through the door behind her. She released the doorway and ran to Tautan. “Don’t fight

him!” she pleaded as she reached the angel’s side. “It’s what he wants.” She reached for his arm and tried to force him to lower his mace. “He needs to steal the staff.”

Across from her, Zasian completed his spell, and the amber glow expanded, became a sphere of energy that surrounded him.

“I know,” Tauran gasped, “and I have to stop him.”

“No, Tauran,” Micus said from behind them. “It’s not your task. Listen to her. Surrender and come back with me.”

Tauran had been staring at Zasian, grim determination on his countenance, but at the sound of the other angel’s voice, he turned to Aliisza.

The hurt and anguish in his eyes bore into her. “You brought him?” he asked.

“Please,” Aliisza said, hating herself. “I know it seems like I betrayed you, but my vision… I know what happens if you resist. Don’t do this! Step back, walk away. Please,” she pleaded, still holding his arm. She felt him sag, all the will to keep fighting leaving him.

Zasian chuckled. “Well played, Aliisza. But it won’t make any difference. What’s done is done.”

Aliisza ignored the priest and watched Tauran’s face. He just stood there, looking deeply into her eyes as if searching for some form of understanding. “I knew it would be you,” he mumbled. “Kael and Vhok, I understand their hearts. But you…”

Please don’t do this, Aliisza thought desperately. Please understand why.

The door to the chamber slammed open. Aliisza looked over Tauran’s shoulder and spotted Kael and Kaanyr staggering in. Her son’s arm hung bloody and useless, and the cambion had a glazed look in his eyes. They propped one

another up like two sailors after a long and boisterous night at the taproom.

“Trouble on our heels,” Kael said as he guided Kaanyr to Aliisza and Tauran. When he saw Zasian and Micus both in the chamber, the champion of Torm slowed. “Looks like trouble in here, too. Vhok, it’s time to swing that sword of yours.”

“No!” Aliisza shouted. “Don’t engage them. That’s what Zasian wants.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Tauran said. “She’s betrayed us, brought Micus here with her.” With that, the angel shoved Aliisza away and limped toward Zasian.

The alu fell to the ground. “Stop!” Aliisza pleaded. “This is just what he wants!”

But none of her three companions paid any attention to her at all.

Kael gave her a single searing glance, then began chanting as he made a line for Micus. The knight’s expression sent a stab of pain through Aliisza’s heart.

My son, she thought. He hates me.

As Kael closed with Micus, his arm began to function normally again. He brought his sword up. “Help us or stay out of the way,” he said.

Micus frowned. “It’s time I teach you a proper lesson in respect for your superiors,” he said without any eagerness at all. He still held the sword he had taken from Aliisza earlier. He swished it in the air a couple of times to get a feel for the blade, then turned his full attention to Kael.

Aliisza turned to Kaanyr. “Wait,” she said to him. “Let me explain. You’re playing right into Zasian’s hands!”

Kaanyr gave Aliisza one brief, puzzled stare, then shook his head in consternation and hefted his sword. Clearer eyed than he had been before, he followed after Tauran, moving so as to circle around and flank the priest of Cyric.

Him, too, Aliisza realized, devastated. They all believe I betrayed them. And I did, she admitted. Guilt and anger washed over her. Despite her foreknowledge, despite all her efforts, everything was playing out just as it had in the vision.

A hint of movement caught Aliisza’s eye. It came from several feet up, a figure drifting out of the shadows right at Kaanyr, from behind him where he couldn’t see. The thing looked like a bluish hobgoblin with dragon wings, and it held a massive war axe in its hands.

Myshik, Aliisza realized.

She opened her mouth to shout a warning to Kaanyr, but the creature reached the cambion just as she blurted, “Watch out!” and drove the blade hard into her lover’s back.

Kaanyr grunted and staggered forward as blood sprayed everywhere.

Myshik settled to the ground and plodded after the cambion.

No, Aliisza thought helplessly. Don’t kill him! She staggered to her feet.

Tauran swung his mace at Zasian with both hands, but the weapon bounced harmlessly off the amber barrier surrounding the priest. The counter-shock sent the angel teetering backward, off-balance.

Zasian raised his hand and gestured. A column of pale yellow flame erupted around Tauran, scouring him. Aliisza could see the angel flinch in anguish and drop his mace.

Stop, she silently pleaded, tears welling in her eyes. Don’t do this.

Behind the alu, Kael screamed.

Aliisza whirled around to see Micus driving the blade—her

blade—through the knight’s gut. The angel pushed Kael backward, using Aliisza’s weapon to guide him against a column. When the half-drow struck it with his back, Micus shoved the sword in deeper.

My son! Tears streamed down her face. Don’t kill my son, she pleaded.

Zasian stood over Tauran’s still form and chuckled. “Now do you see the power of the lie?” he asked Aliisza. “Now, when you’ve been a party to the betrayal, do you understand the triumph of deceit?” The priest gestured around the room. “This is it. This is Cyric’s moment. And you played your role O, so well, Aliisza.”

The alu glared at Zasian through her tears. She wanted to claw his eyes out. She took a single step forward. “Burn in the Nine Hells for eternity, you—”

Zasian gasped and his eyes went wide. He staggered forward, his arms flailing. He seemed to be trying to reach behind him, but his arms wouldn’t work right. He fell to one knee, his eyes rolling up in his head.

Behind the priest, a woman stood there, indistinct and cloaked in shadow. Only her eyes appeared real, and they glittered with delight. She held a black dagger in her hand, dripping with Zasian’s blood.

Kashada, Aliisza realized.

Zasian began to shake. He looked back over his shoulder as his body slumped. He fell to the stones of the floor, twitching, staring at the shadow-shrouded woman. “You!” he said hoarsely. “What have you done?”

Kashada giggled. “Cyric sends his regards,” she said to Zasian. Her voice was husky with allure. “He thanks you for your service. The betrayal is now complete.” Then she looked up and stared at Aliisza.

Aliisza didn’t know what possessed her to do it, but at that moment, she drew on the magic of Pharaun’s ring. Kashada became clear and solid to her.

Where a shadow-image of mysterious beauty once existed, a decrepit woman stood, garbed in simple robes. The woman’s homely, wrinkled face smirked, and her graying hair hung down in limp strands behind her back. A nimbus surrounded the old woman. Aliisza could see it as a larger figure, a beautiful black-skinned creature of lithe grace and dangerous cunning.

The raven beauty from her vision.

Shar.

The nimbus of Shar held a large staff in one hand like a walking stick.

The alu understood, and she wanted to retch.

Kashada and Shar were connected. Kashada was Shar—or a tiny piece of her. The shadow-mystic had been made, a creature to serve but one purpose, so that Shar could be in two worlds at once and steal a staff. Everything else was just one more lie, one more betrayal. Zasian had been told the biggest lie of all, by his own god.

The realization that some small part of Shar stood in that room with her made Aliisza tremble. She wanted to throw herself prostrate on the floor, to hide her eyes. But she could not tear her gaze away.

The nimbus and the old woman smiled together, but it was not a warm expression. There was cold satisfaction there, and hatred. Hatred for all things living.

The pair of them disappeared, leaving only a swirl of shadows.

“No!” Aliisza screamed into the darkness. Myshik stepped out of the shadows to one side.

“Please,” he said, lifting his bloody axe and coming toward Aliisza. “Don’t do that. It hurts my ears.”

Aliisza sobbed. “But I saw it,” she said, looking at him plaintively. “I saw him kill her, with the staff.”

The half-dragon smirked and opened his mouth to say something in reply, but the words never came.

Aliisza felt a ripple of something pass through her. It was magic, pure, undiluted. A bubble. It crashed into the alu, through her.