The Fractured Sky (4 page)

Zasian reared back from the half-dragon sprawled before him. The priest expected the whelp of Clan Morueme to attack him the moment he became lucid, but Myshik only writhed upon the grass in obvious pain.

He burns, Zasian realized. Already, terrible lesions had formed on the bluish skin, ugly and red. Some had begun to fester, becoming yellow pustules. Vhok and Aliisza had had the benefit of the water, he remembered. The foul bile from the dragon’s innards did not punish them as severely.

Myshik groaned and tried to wipe away the caustic fluids from the storm dragon’s stomach that coated him, but each touch made him twitch and recoil. Zasian merely watched for a moment, wondering what had possessed the creature to follow him and the cambion through the portal. He’s either a fool or totally devoted to his cause, the priest decided. Either way, I cannot have him interfering.

Zasian rose up, prepared to lash at Myshik with a rake of his claws. He would rend the draconic hobgoblin into pieces and be done with him. But Myshik saw the movement and sprawled forward onto his stomach as if in supplication.

“Master,” he said, almost plaintively, “heal me and I am yours to command.”

Zasian halted his impending strike. “Serve me?” he asked. He had not thought of such a possibility. “Why would you choose to serve me now, after….” Suddenly, he realized that Myshik did not recognize him as the priest accompanying Vhok. The half-hobgoblin only perceived him as a great storm dragon.

“I am lost in this place, and you are kin,” Myshik said, looking up. “Why would I not? All I ask is that you reward me for my faithful service, that I may someday return to my clan a hero.” He grimaced in pain.

Zasian wanted to smile. Yes, he thought, I’ll reward you. But before I destroy you, perhaps I can make some use of you after all.

“Why are you here?” he demanded, letting the deep, rumbling voice of the storm dragon wash over Myshik. “How did you come to be inside me?”

“I—I followed someone,” the draconic hobgoblin replied, sounding uncertain. “The foe of my sire, a greedy fiend.” Myshik paused, grimacing. When the suffering lessened, he continued. “He and another entered a most peculiar passage, perhaps a portal to this place. Did any others arrive as I did?”

“Why do you seek this fiend?” Zasian asked, letting his borrowed voice continue to boom. “What interest does he hold for you?”

“It is my uncle’s bidding that I slay this fiend. Back where I come from, he and his army encroach upon my clan’s territory. If I were to defeat him and return home with proof of the deed, I would be honored among my kind.”

Zasian considered a moment. “Very well,” he said, “I will

accept your servitude. Our purposes might not be so crossed, it would seem.”

Do you know the efreeti saying that the enemy of my enemy is my friend? Zasian wondered. But he kept his identity to himself.

The priest contemplated how best to heal the creature abasing himself before him. Between the battle within the sultan’s palace and the unexpected fight with the angel and his sidekick upon arriving on the plane, Zasian had exhausted the majority of his divine magic. After fleeing from the deva, he had needed the rest of it to treat his own wounds. He had nothing left to give, at least for the moment.

Besides, he thought, I don’t want to give too much away about myself. He wouldn’t suspect a dragon of such divine power as I have, so why tip my hand? Zasian had an idea.

“Can you travel?” he asked Myshik.

The hobgoblin nodded.

“Then I will bear you to a place where you can bathe in the very energy of the gods. The waters I know of will cleanse you of any taints and poisons, scour away your wounds, and fill you with the power to aid me as only a suitable servant should. In return for this boon, I expect you to hold to this bargain we make here. If you break our agreement, I will hunt you down and destroy you. Is that understood?”

Myshik nodded. “I so swear it.”

Without further deliberation, Zasian scooped the draconic creature up and hoisted him into the air. Once aloft, he began beating his powerful wings, flying into the howling wind, taking them both toward the heart of the House of the Triad.

“We can’t stay out here in this!” Tauran screamed, but Aliisza could barely hear him. The chill, biting wind stole his words away as it lashed the four travelers. Stinging sleet pelted them as they descended through gray, roiling clouds, making the alu squint. When a particularly vicious gust pummeled her, Aliisza went tumbling and nearly lost sight of her companions.

This can’t be right, Aliisza thought, struggling to straighten herself. We should have left those storms behind by now.

Nearby, Kaanyr also fought to remain aloft. The howling gale buffeted him, spinning him like desiccated leaves churned up from the forest floor. His cloak whipped around his body, periodically enveloping his head. He yanked it free and pushed onward, seemingly oblivious to the stinging pellets of ice.

Through it all, the cambion never stopped scowling.

It’s his own fault, Aliisza thought, flapping her own wings with furious strokes to close the distance between herself and Tauran. She had to stay close enough to avoid losing sight of the deva, but not so close that they might collide because of the storm. He’s so bull-headed lately.

The cambion had screamed and ranted at the other three for several long moments after Tauran’s shocking revelation. Stunned herself, Aliisza hardly noticed his reaction at the time.

Twelve years? she had thought. How is that possible?

But Tauran had been forthright, and Kaanyr realized that he had been duped, had been played despite all his careful scrutiny of his deal with the angel. He had yanked Burnblood free, but even with all the rage spilling from him, the cambion was unable to strike at any of them. The magical coercion that Tauran had woven into the bargain prevented Vhok from interfering with the objectives or its participants. Aliisza

realized only later that her decision to aid in the quest had spared her from Kaanyr’s attack.

Not that he hadn’t tried, she remembered. In his moment of unreasoning outrage, she had seen the burning hatred in his eyes, watched as the muscles corded in his neck from the strain of wanting to kill her then and there. For whatever reasons, real or imagined, he blamed her for his predicament.

He let himself fall into Tauran’s trap, I had nothing to do with it. Well, that’s not exactly true, she admitted, feeling a rather uncomfortable emotion.

It surprised the alu that she could experience such a debilitating thing as guilt. In the past, she had always blamed such silly frailties on the human side of her and then promptly buried them, but she found herself reluctant to tamp down her own emotions at that moment. Perhaps the time spent in Tauran’s care had affected her more than she might have liked.

Never mind, she told herself. Just keep up!

Tauran was saying something and gesturing downward, but Aliisza could not hear the angel’s words. Nonetheless, she nodded and tried to follow, her flight made clumsy in the gale.

Just beyond Tautan, Aliisza could barely make out Kael’s form. Her son was also fighting the wind, working to fly where the deva directed. Wings that had sprouted from his boots bore him, and though to the alu’s eye they seemed incapable of effectively bearing the half-drow, they served their purpose well enough. He seemed at ease, following his mentor as if he had trained for it most of his life.

He has, Aliisza reminded herself, reflecting on the angel’s unwelcome news from yet another perspective. He’s spent a dozen more years following Tauran around.

That thought made the alu profoundly sad and jealous all at once. Her mind had a hard time accepting the idea that she had been trapped within the storm dragon’s gullet for more than a decade. It had seemed like mere moments to her and Kaanyr.

I had already lost his childhood, Aliisza lamented, and now this.

During all that time, Kael had grown up under Tauran’s care, studying with the angel and embracing the teachings of the gods who dwelt within the House of the Triad. Tauran had been given so many years of Kael’s life to mold and sculpt, making him a being of goodness and light.

And now he’s some soldier devoted to Torm, Aliisza thought, feeling the sadness and resentment wash over her again. A divine champion, chasing after Tauran and all the fool causes he embraces. And I missed the chance to let him see the truth.

Aliisza vowed to change that. She promised herself that she would unmake what Tauran had crafted in her absence. Though she wasn’t sure how, she would not go down without a fight. Kael was her son, not the angel’s.

A burst of wind rocked Aliisza again, dragging her from her thoughts and resolutions. Tauran had surged far ahead, with Kael close behind him, and she and Kaanyr had lagged behind, she lost in her contemplations and he fighting his cloak. The angel and the champion vanished within the thick mists of the nearest cloud. Fearing that she would lose them, Aliisza went into a dive to try and catch up. Angling her body and folding her arms and wings in tight, she descended like an arrow. She tried to ignore the flecks of ice that stung her face, squinting for some sign of Tauran and Kael.

She plummeted into the cloud and lost all sense of depth

or direction. The disorientation lasted only a moment before she was out the other side. Below her stretched the vast panorama of the plane, with its myriad floating masses of land, all of them uprooted clumps of earth with raw, jagged undersides. She spotted Tauran and Kael too, not so far ahead as she had feared. They drifted toward a particularly large island of rock, one that sported several ridges with a hollow in the center, like some mountain valley surrounded by aged, weathered peaks.

A forest dominated the terrain, and as she drew closer, the alu could see that many of the trees were mighty elder things, akin to the tallest specimens she had seen in the ancient forests of Toril. Even so, the wind lashed at their branches, sending the crowns of the great trees whipping back and forth in the maelstrom. Aliisza also noted that a thin veneer of white had begun to accumulate upon the massive floating mass, swirling sleet and snow pellets combining with a glaze of outright frost.

Tauran led the way into a small meadow in the midst of the ancient trees. He came to rest near the center of the clearing but immediately moved off to one side, seeking shelter beneath the bowers and trunks. Aliisza fought the swirling, slashing wind and managed to follow him down. The moment her feet touched solid ground, she huddled against the blasts of frigid air and trotted after the angel. Kaanyr and Kael followed close behind.

Once within the relative protection of the forest, Tauran found an outcropping of stone that jutted up like a canted fist. He moved into the lee of the rock, wedging himself close against it. Aliisza and Kael joined him, and soon they huddled together out of the worst of the weather. Kaanyr stood out a few paces, paying no mind to the stinging sleet and snow.

“We’ll rest here a moment,” the angel said, breathing heavily, “before we continue on.”

Aliisza nodded gratefully and struggled to catch her breath. “What is this?” she asked after a time, gesturing all around them vaguely. “What’s happening?”

Tauran grimaced. “Upheaval. Catastrophe. Turmoil,” he said.

“Speak plain, deva,” Kaanyr snapped. “What does that mean?”

“He means,” Kael interjected before Tauran could speak, “that this is what happens when the gods quarrel.”

Tauran nodded. “Yes. Tyr and Helm are having an argument. They are both very angry, and their anger has spilled out to engulf all of the House.”

“What’s their quarrel?” Aliisza asked, surprised to see such vehemence made manifest. “Micus hinted at a disagreement, but this?” She gestured again. It was as if the deities were ripping the cosmos apart.

“The minds of the gods are difficult to fathom,” Tauran answered. “Perhaps the solars who attend them know more, but even they aren’t divulging much. All we know is that it has to do with Ilmater’s departure, and Tyr’s choice to replace him within the Triad.”

Kaanyr snorted. “What a waste of time,” he said, rolling his eyes, “fretting over the loss of that martyred idiot. The weakest, most pathetic—”

The cambion’s words were cut short as Kael shifted his position to level his greatsword at him. “Do not speak of the Crying God in such an irreverent manner.”

Vhok returned the glare and reached for his own blade, but Tauran growled, a deep, reverberating sound that froze everyone in place.

“Enough!” he screamed. “I will not tolerate these constant displays of bravado! Kael, our bargain with the half-fiend does not preclude him from expressing his opinions. If he chooses not to honor Ilmater as you might, that is his business. Leave him be.”

Kael frowned and opened his mouth as if to argue, but then seemed to think better of it. With a single, curt nod, he withdrew his blade and leaned against the outcropping, arms folded across his armored chest.

“And you,” Tauran said, addressing Kaanyr. “You will not so easily wriggle free of your obligation. The geas upon you may permit you to defend yourself should we attack you, but it will take more than taunts and veiled insults to expend our patience. Your energy would be much better served in aiding us than trying to trick us. We are not easily duped.”

Kaanyr glowered for a moment then broke into a smile. It was the first time in quite some while that Aliisza could remember the cambion doing so. “Now that I know how much it galls you to suffer my remarks, you may rest assured that they will come thick and often. I will never be your lackey, deva.”

Tauran stared levelly at Kaanyr for several moments. His face remained neutral, with the exception of one corner of his mouth twitching. Then he shrugged. “It will change nothing.”

“So why did Ilmater depart?” Aliisza asked. “And whom did Tyr choose?”

“Tymora,” Kael answered, pushing himself away from the rock to stare out past Kaanyr into the swirling weather. Aliisza wasn’t certain if there was disapproval in the half-drow’s voice or not.