The Gossamer Plain

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Vhok sighed as he yanked Burnblood free. "You disappoint me," he said to Hafiz. "I thought you'd be much wiser and more reasonable than those silly azer."

On the cambion's left, Zasian went through the complex motions of a spell, and Vhok felt a surge of preternatural power course through his body. The priest then dived to the floor and rolled, disappearing beneath one of the wagons. Two efreet dashed after him.

The half-fiend tensed his muscles and felt strength surge into his limbs. He twirled and shifted his blade experimentally, and waited as the horde of efreet surrounding him closed the circle.

"You were the unwise one," Hafiz growled, stepping back and watching his minions work. "Did you really think we'd welcome strangers here? Spies from our enemies sent to learn our defenses before attacking us?"

The closest efreeti lunged at Vhok. The genie towered twice as tall as the cambion and the creature's slice arced down toward Vhok's head. The half-fiend parried the blow, throwing all of his newfound strength into the counterstrike. The clang of it rang through the great chamber. He felt satisfaction as his opponent's blade whipped back from his driving force.

Startled, the efreeti nearly lost his grip on his weapon, and spun to recover it. The reaction put him in a vulnerable position.

Vhok saw the opening and jumped inside his foe's reach. He raked his long sword across the efreeti's abdomen. The genie roared in pain, but Vhok didn't stay near to see the severity of the injury. He let his momentum carry him forward. He leaped high on the follow-through and landed atop the nearest wagon. He bounded across the large molds with their glass castings to the opposite side. There, the half-fiend paused and spun in place.

Two of the onrushing efreet closed the distance, and Vhok saw that their oversized blades were long enough to reach him despite the width of the wagon. Three others began to skirt the conveyance, determined to surround and capture him. Two of them vanished suddenly, disappearing from his sight.

"We told you we held no loyalty to the azer," Vhok said as he parried the first of several falchion strikes from his two opponents. "You didn't even wait long enough to see our goods to bargain with," he added, giving Hafiz a disparaging shake of his head as he knocked a second falchion away and jumped down on the far side of the wagon. He had no intention of letting invisible efreet sneak up on him and catch him unaware.

The hulking efreeti overseer sneered. "Whatever you think you have to offer, I can merely take from you anyway, once I have captured you," he called. "Unless you fight too long and hard and my warriors are forced to slay you instead," he added.

Vhok ignored the words of the great efreeti and ducked beneath the wagon. He scrambled forward, toward Hafiz. When he reached the end of the transport, he darted between the beasts hitched to it. The creatures paid him no mind, but the licking, crackling flames radiating from their bodies scorched his skin and made him flinch.

Just as the cambion was about to run past the pairs of fiery rothe, a wall of searing flame burst across his path. The towering barrier rose from the floor directly in front of the creatures, causing them to rear up in alarm. Vhok skidded to a halt just before he plunged into the crackling curtain. He cringed from the heat, feeling his skin blistering in spite of the magical ring upon his finger.

Vhok spun around to dash back the way he had come. Two efreet waited for him there, one on each side of the wagon, between the back pair of rothe and the front of the vehicle. They thought him trapped, and they grinned malevolently as they leveled their falchions at him.

Rolling his eyes at their simple ploy, Vhok mentally thrust himself upward. He rose into the air, levitating beyond the reach of the licking, consuming flames and the gleaming curved blades the efreet wielded. He smiled as his foes' grins turned to expressions of consternation. They leaped at him, slashing at his feet as he ascended, but Vhok managed to block their strikes with his own blade.

The cambion turned in place as he rose, looking for Zasian. The priest had disappeared when the fight began, right after he had cast the strength magic upon Vhok. The half-fiend spied the pair of efreet who had gone off in pursuit of the Banite, moving slowly among the wagons as though searching.

He slipped away, Vhok thought. But did he leave altogether?

The cambion knew they had no reason to stay. Hafiz had no interest in negotiating, and Vhok doubted anything he said or did was going to change the overseer's mind. Zasian must have come to that conclusion, too, and if the priest was smart, he'd already cleared out.

That's what I'd do, Vhok thought. So I will. He can take care of himself.

Vhok prepared to invoke the spell that would transform him into a gaseous cloud once more, but as he began the incantation, a sizzling beam of fire struck him in the back. The cambion cried out from searing pain and his spell was ruined. He nearly lost his balance and toppled over, but he righted himself and whirled around to see what had caused his injuries.

Below him, an efreeti pointed a finger at him, precisely in the direction of the blast that struck him. Nearby, the overseer had enlarged himself and stood more than twenty feet high. He strode forward, his massive falchion swishing through the air in great swaths. With such a huge blade, the gargantuan efreeti could reach Vhok where he hovered in the air.

Even as Vhok took note of the new threat, a second genie aimed a digit in the cambion's direction and let loose a scorching ray of fiery energy. Seeing it coming, Vhok was able to spin out of the way, and the beam shot harmlessly past him. But it crackled as it passed, and the half-fiend could smell his tunic smoldering.

Bastards, the cambion fumed. Have to find another way out, now.

The half-fiend fished in one of his inner pockets and yanked a wad of something sticky from it. He chanted arcane words and concentrated on rising into the air at the same rime. When the spell took effect, Vhok vanished from sight. Immediately, he reversed his direction and began to descend. The mess of fiery beasts and barriers still burned below him.

I hope that confuses them, he thought.

The cambion watched Hafiz come closer, still peering toward the ceiling. The overseer paused, frowning, then Vhok saw him grin and stare right where the half-fiend dropped toward the floor. Hafiz swung his massive falchion at Vhok's body. The huge blade whooshed through the air in a tremendous arc, coming right toward him.

So much for stealth, Vhok lamented.

The half-fiend swung Burnblood around and used the long sword to try to deflect the impact of the great falchion. The force of the blow drove him sideways several feet. It knocked him off balance and sent a cold pain shooting up his arm. Vhok grunted involuntarily.

Hafiz reversed his swing and brought the blade around for another swipe at Vhok. The cambion didn't think he could take another strike like the previous one. In desperation, he looked below and saw that Hafiz's crushing cut had knocked him away from the licking flames. The cambion released his levitating magic and let himself fall, hoping he would drop enough to evade the overseer's attack.

The ploy worked.

Vhok tumbled to the floor in a heap, just a few feet to one side of the infernal barrier, as the falchion whistled over his head. The landing hurt and knocked the breath from him, but he struggled to his hands and knees and sought a safe haven. The next wagon in the long caravan had not yet been hooked to a team of rothe. Vhok scrambled toward it.

Another sizzling blast of heat, no thicker than a stiletto, slammed into the stone beside the half-fiend. Vhok jerked back and rolled sideways. He kept rolling as another scorching beam hit him in the shoulder. He clamped his teeth together to keep from grunting in pain. Another spin of his torso, and he was finally under the wagon, away from the magical attacks.

The cambion didn't waste time. He climbed to his knees and looked around, desperate for a way to exit the chaotic battle. The great doors, where the caravan would depart, remained shut. Vhok had no idea how difficult they would be to open, so he discounted that option.

Vhok remembered the door high atop the platform, where he and Zasian had entered. He shifted to the far side of the wagon and stole a glance that way.

A single efreeti stood upon the shelf of rock, blocking the exit. The door had been pulled shut, but it could be locked only from the near side, so Vhok guessed that he could incapacitate the guard and slip through. The only question was whether he could reach the platform unhindered. Hafiz was able to track him despite his invisibility.

Nothing left but to try, the half-fiend decided. Can't stay here and get slow-roasted.

Just as Vhok was readying himself for the dash to freedom, Hafiz's giant feet settled to the floor on either side of the wagon. Other efreet also began to gather, surrounding the wagon. The huge genie's fingers closed around the conveyance and it began to rise.

Vhok realized Hafiz's plan at once. Remove the cambion's cover, and the other efreet would swarm him. He considered slicing at the oversized digits in an effort to thwart the trick, but he knew that would sacrifice his magical invisibility. Though Hafiz had figured out how to spot him, the others had not, and Vhok felt compelled to maintain any advantage he could.

Instead, Vhok reached up and grasped the rear axle of the vehicle with his hands, then stretched his feet forward and hooked his booted toes over the other axle. As the wagon rose into the air, Vhok went with it, clinging to the underside. The efreet closed ranks around the spot where Vhok had been, their blades drawn. They sliced, jabbed, and poked at the empty space before them. It was clear to the cambion they attacked blindly, with no true idea if he was there or not.

Thank the abyssal ones for small favors, Vhok thought.

Hafiz hoisted the wagon waist-high and pivoted with a grunt of exertion. Vhok realized the size of the vehicle blocked the overseer's view of the place the other efreet attacked, and he had no way of knowing that Vhok was no longer there. The massive genie shifted his weight and tossed the wagon to one side with a thud. Vhok clung desperately to the axles with his magically enhanced strength as he bounced hard with the impact. The vehicle rolled a few paces from the gathered efreet, and Vhok traveled with it.

When the wagon glided to a stop, the half-fiend rolled out from beneath it on the far side. Vhok crouched behind the vehicle. Using it for cover, he turned toward the commotion. If the opportunity came, he would make a run for the stairs to the platform.

But by that point, Hafiz, as well as his minions, had realized their quarry was not where they thought. The others looked around uncertainly, but the overseer seemed to realize how the cambion had escaped his trap. The giant genie slowly turned his glare toward the wagon.

Vhok surveyed his escape route, wondering if he could slip past his large but ponderously slow foe. He was about to sprint across the open floor when the disembodied voice of Zasian suddenly echoed in his ears.

Vhok, I'm near the front of the caravan, by the azer slaves. Lead Hafiz to me and we'll finish him. Answer to confirm you understand.

The cambion stole a glance toward the front of the caravan line and spotted a handful of chained and manacled azer. The flame-covered dwarves loitered near a wall, unattended. Vhok could not see the priest, but he trusted that the man was there, hiding. It was the opposite direction from the high door and freedom, but if they could slay the overseer and turn the tide of battle, he was willing to take a chance.

In the time it took Zasian to deliver his message, Hafiz had taken two steps and was nearly at the wagon. He held his falchion high in one hand and reached for the vehicle with the other.

"I'm on my way," Vhok muttered softly. "You'd better be ready, because Hafiz is almost on me." Vhok did not wait for the Banite to respond. He leaped out of his hiding place and lunged forward, swinging Burnblood.

Hafiz followed the cambion's movement with his eyes, but his enlarged body was too slow to react. Vhok ran between the genie's legs. He swung his sword as hard as he could and drew a long gash across the inside of Hafiz's calf as he passed. Scalding hot blood the color of magma spewed out, burning Vhok, who became visible because of his attack. Ignoring the pain of the burning blood, the cambion kept going, racing toward the azer and their taskmaster.

With a roar, Hafiz turned and limped after him. The other efreet, who had been watching from behind the overseer uncertainly, could see their quarry once more. They chased after him, too.

Though Vhok was much quicker, the oversized genie's strides covered more ground. Vhok realized that the overseer intended to stomp on him, if he could.

The half-fiend ran faster.

Vhok saw that the azer watched the approaching half-fiend and his pursuers with trepidation. Manacled and chained together, they could not move fast, but they turned and fled the onrushing genies as best they could. Tripping and scrambling, they left a gap near the wall where Vhok and Zasian could make their stand.

The cambion could only hope it wouldn't be his last.

Vhok reached the front of the line of wagons and looked around, seeking the priest. Zasian was nowhere to be found. Suddenly fearing that the Banite had tricked him into being a decoy so he could escape, Vhok stole a quick glance over his shoulder.

Hafiz, bleeding profusely from the wound Vhok inflicted, had lost ground. He still bore down on the half-fiend, and he held his falchion high, but several paces separated the two of them. The other genies lagged even farther behind.

Vhok saw an opportunity. He ran once again in the direction of the wall. When he neared it, he leaped high in the air. As he hit the wall, he kicked with both legs. Using all his strength, he powered himself up and over and back in the direction he had come. At the same time, he spun around to face his pursuers.

Hafiz was startled by the half-fiend's sudden reversal of direction. He staggered to a stop as Vhok flashed toward his chest. The massive genie tried to move his falchion to defend himself, but he was too slow.

Vhok angled his sword at the efreeti's chest and plunged the blade home.

Blood spurted everywhere, coating Vhok in its blazing heat. For a moment, the cambion clung to his weapon, fighting the agonizing pain of being doused with the fiery blood of the genie. Then Hafiz, staggering and bellowing, grabbed at Vhok with his fist. Vhok felt the genie's crushing grip surround him. He let go of his blade to try to squirm free.

Hafiz stumbled down on one knee. His breath was rasping in his chest, and hot, glowing blood flowed freely down his torso. With a baleful glare, he held the cambion before himself.

"You worm," he growled, weakening fast. "I will dash your head against the floor!"

The overseer, swaying uncertainly, hoisted Vhok high overhead.

Vhok pushed against the powerful fingers that held him. "Any time now, Zasian," he called out. His words came only as a strained grunt. Though he could feel Hafiz's grip weakening, the power of that grasp was forcing the air from his lungs.

The efreeti wavered, then collapsed.

The oversized genie toppled to one side, his arm swinging downward. Vhok found himself rushing toward the hard stone floor, though no longer clenched tightly within the efreeti's grip. The cambion wriggled out of the overseer's fingers and went into a tumble as the massive hand hit the ground with a resounding thud.

The half-fiend rolled across the floor and came up on his feet, gasping for breath.

Hafiz lay motionless, molten blood spreading beneath him. His body returned to its normal size. The hilt of Vhok's blade, still protruding from the overseer's chest, became visible beneath the corpse.

The other efreet who had been pursuing Vhok, fully half a dozen, stood gathered around their leader, as still as their fallen overseer. They all shared expressions of shock and dismay.

Then, almost as one, they looked toward Vhok.

"You will die!" one of them said, and the cambion realized it was Amak. The sentry stepped forward and bent down to grasp Hafiz's falchion, which had also returned to its regular dimensions. He rose and stalked toward Vhok. "I will slay you myself," he snarled, and raised the weapon to attack.

Vhok reached for his scepter and discovered that it was no longer strapped to his belt. Somewhere along the way, it had jostled loose. Scalded by igneous blood, his sword still jammed into Hafiz's chest, he stood before the enraged genie, weaponless.

The cambion backed away from the efreeti. "Now would be a really good time to show up, Zasian," the half-fiend muttered. He looked around for his companion, but the priest had vanished.

The other genies closed in, forming a semicircle around their prey.

As Aliisza became conscious, she realized she was floating in a gray void. This is different, she thought.

Before, for several days, perhaps, she had lingered in the moonlit garden with the magical fountain. Before, she hadn't been certain whether she had slept or not. It had been hard for the alu to tell the difference between slumber and a mere absence of consciousness. All she could be certain of was that time had passed, and every time she became aware, she found herself in that oasis.

At least the visions had ceased.

Aliisza spent considerable time reflecting upon the significance of the switch. Did I change something? she wondered. Did Tauran? Was that what he was looking for? For me to act? To defend, or protect?

Whatever the cause, she had welcomed the respite of returning to the garden. The visions had worn on her, made her more than weary. Her emotions had become raw. She felt things she had never known before. She wasn't sure she liked that. A part of her still resisted the impulse to save, to protect. She didn't want that responsibility, that weakness. She felt exposure, vulnerability in such kindness and compassion.

She had mulled the implications of her imprisonment over and over. Each time, exhaustion had taken over before she could come to some conclusion. Eventually, she had vowed not to think about it any more, at least not for a while. She had wanted merely to be. As an escape from those tormenting visions, she had welcomed the solitude of the garden. Even as she had settled down to rest, there had been an expectation of something, anticipation of an event, an occurrence. She had known she was waiting for Tauran. But she had been in no hurry for it to happen.

That had been before.

The gray void startled her. A change. What did it mean?

In the next instant, she was within her quarters, lying upon her bed. She hadn't come there much during her captivity, preferring the sights, sounds, and sensations of the garden to her bedroom. She wondered why she had brought herself there instead.

Rising up in the bed, Aliisza realized she was naked. That hadn't happened in quite some time, either. She looked about. Her clothes, her weapons, all of it lay draped over or resting against a nearby chair.

Something felt different. It… perturbed her.

Deciding to explore, the alu slipped out of bed and hurriedly dressed. Then she headed into the garden. It felt strange, different from the place she had grown used to.

At first, she assumed that Tauran had arrived, was sitting in the deeper shadows, waiting for her to regain consciousness. She peered about, staring into the recesses of the garden where the moonlight did not reach. The wind blew softly and made the chimes tinkle. The leaves of the trees fluttered in those breezes, their silvery color flashing like strange fireflies swarming amongst the branches.

There was no sign of the angel.

What is it, then? Aliisza pondered, searching her own awareness. What is different?

When she finally figured it out, the realization hit her hard. She was real. She existed. It wasn't merely a dream state, some out-of-body consciousness she felt.

She was flesh and blood again.

The thought made her stumble, nearly fall. Uncertain if she could trust her suspicions, she tested. She tried to dismiss the garden. Nothing. She willed her surroundings to change to daytime, for the sun to shine and the moon to vanish. The sky didn't alter.

Everything felt different because it was different. Her mind was no longer creating the place; she actually stood in the middle of the real garden, no longer a prisoner within her own mind.

"It must feel strange, after all this time existing only as a spirit," Tauran said.

Aliisza whirled to find him standing at the periphery of the garden, smiling.

"What happened?" she asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"You happened," the angel replied. "You acted. You rushed to her aid. You took a stand," he finished.

"I know," Aliisza answered, "but I didn't want to. I didn't want to feel that." Disorientation flowed through her. Her real body felt things again, things she had forgotten about. Aches, unsteady balance, an emptiness in the pit of her stomach. She had to make sense of it. "It's dangerous, caring for others. You leave yourself open to… to pain," she finished. The words sounded foolish in her ears.

"Yes," Tauran said, and his voice was gentle, consoling. "It is hard to care for others, to lend them aid, to offer them solace and guidance. Because you give something of yourself in the process. And you fear that it will come back to injure you if you let it." The angel walked to Aliisza, took her hands in his. "You wall up your feelings because of fear. Fear of that pain. Everything we do in life, we do out of fear. Fear of betrayal-fear of pain."

"Fear of death," the alu finished.

"Yes," the deva said, growing excited. "Exactly. You fear all those things, yet you believe you can overcome them, if only you never let anyone get close to you, never get close to anyone. You think you can control those fears by protecting yourself from them. But the truth is, we are all powerless. In the end, those fears materialize despite our efforts."

"Then why bother living at all?" Aliisza asked, desperate. She did not want to feel those emotions. They terrified her. "How does making myself vulnerable change anything? It only makes it worse!"

"Ah, it would seem to from the outside looking in," Tauran answered. "But you know differently now. Don't you?"

"No," Aliisza said, trying to mean it. But she didn't. "I don't want to care!" she protested, knowing her words were false.

She did care. She cared about Lizel, admired the girl's courage, determination even in the face of so much adversity. She envied the young woman's convictions. Most of all, she craved the bond that girl would have with her child. Aliisza wanted that. She wanted to love her son.

Aliisza wanted her son to love her in return.

"Ask anyone," Tauran said as the alu's thoughts came full circle. "Anyone who has ever loved and lost will tell you it's still worth it. Despite the pain, the vulnerability, the joy that comes with caring cannot be diminished. In truth, you cannot have one without the other."

"It's still selfish," Aliisza said, sagging to the ground at the deva's feet. It was too much. "You still pursue it to please yourself."

"Of course," Tauran replied, settling beside her. "I serve Tyr for the sense of satisfaction I feel. You wish for your son to love you because you want the good feelings it brings. No one who looks openly and honestly inside themselves could claim otherwise."

"Then how is that better than serving yourself?" the half-fiend demanded, tears welling up in her eyes. "How can you mark one as good and the other, evil? I see no difference."

"Yes, you do," the angel said. "You know you do."

Aliisza tried to shake her head, tried to tell her counterpart that it was all the same, but she knew otherwise. In goodness, there was boon for all.

And in that moment, in that instant when she finally grasped how wonderful kindness and compassion could be, how it built and reverberated among all living things instead of destroying them, she felt ashamed. Her entire life had been nothing more than an endless series of terrible acts, all designed to bring her satisfaction at the expense of others.

She leaned close to Tauran, reached out for him. The angel took her in his arms, hugged her close. She pressed herself against him and sobbed.

For a long time, they remained like that. Aliisza simply let the grief wash through her, scouring away all of her shame and guilt. The catharsis was profound, immediate. Somehow, the angel was drawing her taint from her, and she felt clean, new, alive for the first time. The energy Tauran gave off didn't pain her anymore. It fed her, nourished her body and spirit together.

At last, they drew apart. Tauran peered into Aliisza's eyes, as though searching for something there. She smiled at him, a grin that grew. She knew it showed her affection for the angel, her appreciation for all that he had done to bring her to that moment.

"I am whole," she said, and she reached up and caressed the deva's cheek.

He was so beautiful, she realized. Not just physically, though there was that. No, his inner strength, his convictions shone from within. She would have envied that if she didn't understand how he could share it with her. What she once would have wanted to wrest from him for her own use, she instead craved that he share with her. For in sharing it, it became even more bountiful, limitless.

"I have a surprise for you," the angel said, standing. He reached down and pulled Aliisza to her feet. "It's time."

The alu looked at her friend, confused. "Time for what?" she asked.

"To meet him," Tauran replied.

Aliisza's heart leaped into her throat. Her son! It was time to meet her child.

"N-no," she stammered, afraid. "I–I cannot."

"Why?" Tauran asked, genuinely puzzled. "You want to love him, and he you."

"Yes, but…" How could she explain it? she thought. How could she make sense of it herself? "I'm afraid," she said at last, raising her arms helplessly.

"Of what?"

"That he will not love me," she replied, and the tears welled up again. "That he will look upon his mother and know all the terrible things she has done, and he will turn away."

"That is possible," the deva said.

Aliisza looked at him, taken aback. His words surprised her. She had expected the angel to try to dismiss her fears, make her believe that all would be fine.

"You cannot predict, nor can you control, what is in another's heart," Tauran explained. "You can only give of yourself and see if something good comes in return."

"The risk…" Aliisza began, knowing it would always be there.

"Is worth the reward," the angel finished for her. "Without one, you cannot truly have the other."

Aliisza took a deep breath. "I know," she admitted. "But I am still afraid."

"Look how close you are, though," Tauran said. "Look what you've come through to achieve this. To turn away now would be tragic."

Aliisza thought through everything that had happened to her. Her struggle had been monumental, and through it all, the only thing that had ultimately mattered to her was to see her child born, and grow, and be happy. In a way, she had already sacrificed everything on his behalf. She knew then that it didn't matter what he thought of her. She had already given him everything she had.

"Take me to him," Aliisza said, mustering her conviction. "I want to see what he has become."

Tauran smiled and took her hand. "I don't need to," he said. "He's been here, with us, the whole time."

Aliisza felt a lump form in her throat. Here? All this time? He's watched me! Saw me laid open, bare, all of my failures! Oh, by the gods, no!

Tauran tugged at the half-fiend, gently pulled her along to the far side of the garden.

There, in the shadows, Aliisza could see a form. He was sitting on a bench, his face masked in darkness.

Her son.

He was larger than she expected, an adult. Much time had passed since his birth. Tauran had warned of it, but the impact didn't truly hit her until just then.

I've missed his childhood, she lamented. I wonder how much he will look like me, how much he will resemble Kaanyr. Thinking of the cambion made her pause a second time. Kaanyr. What will he think? What will he do?

As they approached, her son stood. He wore a simple white tunic and leggings, very similar to the clothing many of the inhabitants of the House donned. He was not as tall as Aliisza would have expected, given Kaanyr's stature. But he was graceful.

He stepped into the soft light of the moon, and Aliisza realized she didn't even know his name, but the thought that she ought to ask Tauran that question vanished the moment she saw his face.

Ghost white hair, shorn short, framed an aquiline face the color of a dusky evening sky.

The garnet eyes of Pharaun Mizzrym's progeny stared back at Aliisza.