The Gossamer Plain

CHAPTER FOUR

Vhok stepped over the fallen Lysalis, straddling her, thrusting and feinting with his blade. The dwarf gave the cambion's ancient elven sword a wary eye and parried each stroke and thrust with both shield and axe. Vhok's quickness gave him pause, even though the cambion had to remain in place to defend his injured companion.

The dwarf shifted tactics, circling around Vhok more rapidly, using his parries to knock Burnblood to the side. Vhok realized what his foe's intentions were. He was trying to force the cambion off balance by making him spin in place while mindful of stepping on Lysalis. The dwarf had no interest in getting in close and engaging his foe. He merely wanted to tire the half-fiend and force him into a deadly error.

Time to end this, Vhok decided after another parry from the dwarf whipped his sword arm out to one side.

The cambion feigned a stagger, as though he had overbalanced and tripped on the fey'ri's writhing form. When the dwarf saw the stumble, he charged forward, ready to deliver a killing blow with his axe.

Vhok freed his scepter from his belt with his other hand. With a mighty swing, he smashed the magical rod hard against the shield. There was a roaring burst of sound, and Vhok felt the satisfying crack of a sundered shield beneath his blow.

The dwarf staggered back and fell on his rump. Vhok maneuvered to avoid stumbling over Lysalis. By the time he stepped free of the fey'ri sorceress, the dwarf was up on one knee. Vhok expected him to flee, but at that moment, his eyes flickered toward something behind the cambion. Vhok risked a glance back. What he saw made him groan in exasperation.

A full dozen or so additional dwarves poured from the same tunnel that had disgorged the initial group. They trotted toward the demonic lord, their armor and weapons clanking rhythmically.

Damn them and their stubborn ways! And damn me for thinking how clever it would be to lure them all in here! I should be careful what I wish for.

Vhok growled to himself and turned his gaze to the dwarf with the sundered shield. The stout fellow seemed to have recovered his wits. He held a second hand axe in place of the ruined shield and came at the cambion again. Vhok let his foe make one sweeping slash. Without the hindrance of standing over Lysalis, he could maneuver much more easily. He sidestepped the attack and counterthrust with his blade in a single fluid motion. The strike penetrated the dwarf's armor right at the armpit, slipping through the gap in the metal plates. The dwarf grunted as Vhok shoved the blade deeper, a sound that turned into a wet gurgle as the half-demon punctured a lung. Before the humanoid dropped to the floor, Vhok had yanked his blade free and turned.

The dozen oncoming dwarves were still thirty paces away. Though they moved tirelessly, their short legs and heavy armor prevented them from gaining much speed. Vhok decided he could outrun them, even with the burden of his compatriot, noting that he was near the lava sluice. He could feel the heat radiating from where molten rock had overflowed the channel. It hissed and steamed as it cooled in great, gooey piles on either side. Acrid smoke wafted past him from the sizzling, bubbling liquid stone.

The cambion bent down and scooped up Lysalis, who was panting and gasping, her skin turning a sickly gray color. Slinging the petite fey'ri over his shoulder, he began to trot toward the promontory of rock.

"Zasian will heal you," he said to the sorceress as he loped along. If he ever gets here, the cambion added silently. We could use his help right now.

"Hurry!" Lysalis gasped. "It burns!"

The dwarves, seeing Vhok's intention to flee, picked up their pace, too. Despite their difficulties in moving quickly, Vhok could see that they were going to cut him off from his destination. Lysalis slowed Vhok too much to outrun them. He slowed as he realized it was fruitless to continue. He eased her off his shoulders and let her settle at his feet once more.

Blast and damn, he seethed. He began to consider that he might have to leave her in order to save himself.

Cursed Vigilant! he silently oathed. Their name suits them only too well.

The dwarves fanned out and formed two semicircular lines as they moved to surround the pair. The first rank presented their shields. They were too few in number to form a proper shield wall, but they created a practical barrier. Vhok might have been able to force his way between them, but at great cost. Behind the shields, a second line cocked heavy crossbows. The stout folk intended to keep their targets pinned down, unable to escape, while they remained at a distance from their enemies and the heat, then wear the intruders down with missile fire.

Desperately, Vhok muttered the chant of one of the handful of spells he knew. He felt a large magical disk of force wink into existence in front of him, even though he couldn't see it. As the magical shield materialized, the dwarves fired their first volley. Though most of the missiles struck the magical barrier and bounced harmlessly away, one of the projectiles grazed his shoulder, creasing his skin and causing a thin line of blood to well there. He clamped his mouth shut to stifle an angry outburst, not wanting to give his enemies the satisfaction of knowing they'd bloodied him.

As the dwarves reloaded, Vhok swore again and peered around. Behind him stood the churning, overflowing lava sluice. He could feel the great heat emanating from it, a nice deterrent against the dwarves coming any closer. But there was no way he could get through the molten muck and up to the top of the sluice wall, especially while carrying the wounded sorceress. Though the heat didn't trouble him, it would be nigh impossible to clamber through something the consistency of thick porridge. Even with the benefit of his magical shield, the dwarves would fill him with crossbow bolts before he ever slipped away, if the stuff didn't harden around his legs and trap him there.

Unless…

The cambion squatted down and fished around in Lysalis's pouches, seeking the wand he had seen her use earlier. He yanked it from a bag on her hip and gripped her face with his other hand. She was fading rapidly.

"The trigger word!" he said, making her focus her eyes on him. "What is the command word for this?" He held the wand in her field of vision to aid her understanding.

" 'Glacious,' " Lysalis mumbled, her eyes glazing over.

Vhok stood and aimed the wand, not at the dwarves but at the lava near his feet. He spoke the word the fey'ri had given him. A ray of frosty crystals erupted from the tip, churning into a billowing cloud of hissing vapor as it struck the molten rock. The steam surrounded the cambion and obscured his vision. He felt comfortable warmth envelop him, but cries of protest and pain emanated from several dwarves as the superheated vapor reached them.

Before him, the magic yielded the desired effect. The lava cooled and hardened to black stone. Safely hidden within the shroud of steam, the cambion took one tentative step upon the blackened stone and found that although it was spongy, it held his weight.

Excellent, the half-fiend thought. Not waiting to see how long his cover would last, Vhok bent low, grabbed Lysalis, and hoisted her on his shoulders. He took several steps onto the hardened lava, and when he felt it beginning to give way beneath him, he discharged another blast of frosty magic from the wand. Clouds of steam billowed up all around him, emitting harsh seething sounds.

He progressed forward and upward. Each time the hot stone became too soft, he chilled it with the magic of the wand to keep going. Each blast also served to hide him from the furious dwarves, who continued to fire at him. The magical barrier he had erected served him well, and the missiles did not reach him.

Eventually, Vhok could no longer proceed. The ascent was too steep to negotiate without the use of his hands, which held both the wand and the groaning, thrashing bundle on his back. Frowning, Vhok blasted the lava several times in succession, following a line all the way to the top of the ever-increasing slope. The resultant cloud of steam billowed so thickly that for a moment, the cambion could hardly see his hand in front of his face.

He tucked the wand away and pulled out his scepter. With several powerful swings, he gouged indentations into the surface of the hardened rock. Each strike created a deep boom that echoed around him, drawing more missile fire.

Lysalis cried out and jerked, nearly toppling the two of them backward before Vhok managed to regain his balance. He suspected she had been struck by one of the bolts, but he dared not stop to see if she was still alive. Again he considered leaving her and making good his own escape, but he loathed abandoning her-or rather, abandoning the treasure trove of magic she carried.

Determined to continue on, Vhok chopped a column of indentations into the face of the stone, staggering them slightly. When they were as high as he could reach, he tucked the scepter away and began using them like a ladder, pulling himself up by both feet and one hand, one step at a time.

At last, he reached the top of the sluice wall. He eyed the glowing, roiling barrier of fiery magma as it churned through the channel, spilling over the sides. The steam was dissipating by then, and Vhok could see that the sluice was only five feet wide. With one mighty thrust of his legs, he leaped across to the opposite side. Not pausing, he pushed himself forward again, using his momentum to increase the distance of his second jump.

Well clear of the majority of the oozing magma spilling down that side, the cambion drew on his innate fiendish power of levitation and slowed his fall. He wobbled to a stop and worked to keep his balance, no small feat with the burden on his shoulders raising his center of gravity. He stabilized himself and gently descended to the floor, leaving the great stone channel behind him as a barrier between himself and his pursuers.

The mists Vhok had created to hide his escape were much thinner on that side, and even as he strode forward to breach them, they dissipated, giving him a good view of the terrain. Vhok could see the promontory of rock directly in front of him. He had a clear shot to that place across an open plaza. More importantly, Vhok spied Zasian there. The priest had reached their departure point and waited for him.

But his clever escape had managed to put the cambion more directly in the midst of the large battle. And the massive cloud of vapor Vhok had created also attracted unwanted attention. A number of dwarves broke off from the primary fight with the tanarukks and moved to investigate the disturbance. As he emerged from the cloak of steam, Vhok discovered dwarves directly interposed between him and his destination. Seeing the half-fiend, the dwarves gave a collective shout and advanced at a rapid trot, raising their weapons.

Not again, the cambion groaned to himself. In desperation, he pulled the arctic wand free and aimed it at the oncoming dwarves, hoping to blast his way through them. But when he uttered the trigger word, nothing happened. He had exhausted its magical power. Vhok threw the worthless stick away, snarling. He doubted he had the strength to bull his way through another pack of dwarves.

At that moment, a figure charged from the ruins of a cupola along one side of the plaza. The figure raced across the open ground, heading straight toward the dwarves. As the creature waded into the midst of them, swinging a huge war axe, Vhok recognized it. It belonged to the Blood of Morueme, the ferocious draconic hobgoblins sired by the Clan Morueme dragons.

The cambion heard a sharp, concussive thump as the half-hobgoblin struck, then saw one of the Vigilant sail several paces through the air before landing with a muted splash in a patch of lava that had spilled over and seeped close. The dwarf screamed in agony and tried to escape, but the conflagration that erupted around him quickly silenced his cries.

At the same time, a massive stone wall appeared in the plaza. The barrier divided the dwarves and sealed a significant number of them away from Vhok and the half-dragon, but it left an open alley to reach the promontory. The rest of the stout folk still advanced.

Vhok looked up, knowing where the stone wall had come from. As he gazed over at Zasian, the priest gestured frantically for the cambion to hurry.

With hope of victory restored, Vhok drew his blade and strode forward to cut his way through the dwarves as best he could with Lysalis draped over his shoulder. The sorceress had become still, and he feared she was already dead. As he fought, Vhok kept an eye on the Morueme half-breed and worked to reach the half-hobgoblin's side, hoping to benefit from his protection. Each time the half-dragon's huge axe connected with a foe, Vhok could hear a loud pounding as the enemy it struck was knocked backward with preternatural force. The half-hobgoblin used the weapon to good effect, aiming his blows to slam his victims into other dwarves, cutting a swath for himself to reach Vhok.

When they at last met, the cambion tilted his head once in acknowledgment of thanks. He eyed the mighty weapon his new companion wielded, and noted that it was dwarven in make.

No wonder they're so angry, Vhok thought with a chuckle.

The half-hobgoblin returned the nod and kept swinging, plowing a gap through angry, howling dwarves. Step by step, they made their way together toward the Everfire and Zasian.

At last, the few remaining dwarves had stomached all they wanted of the fierce cambion and his unusual companion, and they fell back. A few of them fired crossbows at Vhok and the others, but Zasian acted quickly, erecting another wall of stone to block their line of sight. The cambion and the half-hobgoblin crossed the remainder of the plaza unmolested. The two of them scrambled up to the point of rock where Zasian waited.

At last, exhausted, Vhok set Lysalis at Zasian's feet. Breathing heavily, he gestured at the fallen sorceress. "She is badly wounded," he told the priest. "Struck by some holy weapon that seems to be taking her life. Can you revive her?"

Zasian frowned and knelt beside the fey'ri, who had lapsed into unconsciousness. "I will try," he said, "but my healing skills are elementary compared to my other talents."

Vhok turned and looked at the half-hobgoblin. The half-dragon wiped some of the blood off his axe, using a tattered cloak he had torn from a dead dwarf.

"My thanks for your aid in this fight today, Son of Morueme," Vhok said. "What brings you to the Everfire in the midst of my battle with the tempestuous dwarves?" He suspected he already knew the answer, but he wanted to see how the half-dragon would reply.

The creature bowed deeply. "I bid you greetings, Sceptered One. I am Myshik Morueme. I come on behalf of my father, Roraurim, and my uncle, Nahaunglaroth, Lords of Dragon-doom, Masters of the Cerulean Skies, Patriarchs of Clan Morueme. I have been instructed to join with you and offer my services on your impending journey." The half-hobgoblin smiled.

Vhok eyed Myshik critically for a moment. He doubted the dragons' offer was completely magnanimous, pact or no, and he desired no spies in his midst as he began his journey to reach the Lifespring.

"Your father asked you to accompany me? His offer is most generous, but where I travel, you do not wish to follow."

Myshik smirked. "My father instructed me to keep a close eye on you in the event that you would not accept his invitation." The half-dragon paused, as if weighing his next words carefully. "I would do his bidding, but I do not relish a game of chase with you. I know you have little reason to trust me, despite your new alliance with our clan, but I am most curious about the great Kaanyr Vhok, commander of the Scourged Legion. I could be of great assistance on this journey of yours, as I hope I have already proven," he said, hoisting his axe for emphasis. "Please consider permitting me to accompany you. It would be something of an honor."

"There's nothing I can do for her," Zasian said, rising to his feet. "Whatever poisoned her is beyond my ken to assuage."

Vhok looked down at Lysalis, who opened her eyes and stared up at the cambion with trepidation. Then he looked at Myshik again. "You do not even know where I'm going. You're not prepared for this journey, believe me."

"Indeed," the half-dragon replied. "I am at a disadvantage, but I believe I can hold my own if you give me an opportunity."

Vhok sighed and pondered the offer for a moment. With Lysalis near death, he was short a member of his expedition. Very well, he silently decided. He has proven formidable enough to take a chance.

Drawing his sword, Vhok took hold of Lysalis's right hand and sliced it from her arm. The fey'ri screamed in pain and passed out.

The cambion removed a ring from one of her fingers and handed the magical band to Myshik. "Put this on, then," he said, dropping the hand beside the maimed sorceress.

The half-hobgoblin took the ring from Vhok and examined it carefully. A set of four stones-ruby, emerald, sapphire, and garnet-had been inset into the gold band.

"What does it do?" he asked, appraising the ring with a critical eye.

"It keeps you from being turned into a cinder as we cross through the Everfire into the Elemental Plane of Fire," Vhok replied.

Myshik's eyes grew wide for an instant, then he nodded and slipped the ring on his clawed finger. The band immediately adjusted to fit perfectly.

"I am ready," he said.

"So it would seem," Vhok replied, wondering how long the half-dragon would survive. "Let's go." Turning to Zasian, the cambion said, "Lead the way."

The priest nodded and moved to the end of the outcropping, where it hung over the churning river of lava. He stood there a moment, surveying the maelstrom of fiery liquid below and twisting a ring, identical in design to the one Vhok had given to Myshik. He selected a spot and jumped off the perch. Zasian fell into the molten rock and disappeared beneath the surface.

Vhok and Myshik followed.

Aliisza found herself floating. Nothing surrounded her but a formless gray void. Up and down held no meaning. She was weightless, drifting. She thought to unfurl her wings, to fly in some direction or other, but strangely, the sensation of having wings was absent. She knew where they should be, knew how to control them, but they seemed to be… gone.

The alu tried to remember how she came to be there. Her head swam. She recalled a struggle; she had been injured. The mace! Aliisza remembered the priestess, and the weapon she wielded. It had come right down on her head. There had been a deafening crack of metal on bone, a blinding flash of light, then… nothing.

Is this the Abyss? the half-fiend wondered. Am I dead? No, that cannot be. I have no soul. I cannot exist beyond my body.

A flash of blinding light filled her vision, and Aliisza gasped and flinched. Something else had arrived within the void, and it hovered near her, a presence. It was cold and hot at the same time. She could feel power emanating from it. She squinted against the painful, radiant light and took a peek.

She could barely make out a figure, a creature similar to herself, but unlike anything Aliisza had ever seen before. It looked vaguely like a man, though it seemed much taller than any human the alu had ever laid eyes on. After a moment, the intensity of the glow surrounding it diminished. She could see the rich brown skin of its bare chest, but its legs were hidden beneath loose white leggings, or a kilt of some sort. As she gazed at the thing's face, she found its features nothing short of beautiful. Two great, feathered wings sprouted from its back. It hovered before her, surveying her with the gentlest expression of sympathy and caring. Aliisza was both repulsed and drawn to it.

Without warning, a deep rumble shook the void and a gargantuan shadow fell across the creature and Aliisza. The half-fiend let out a startled gasp and spun in place, trying to detect its source. A great stone wall, made of boulders as big as caverns, burst into view nearby, sliding through the void as if it grew from a ground that didn't exist. It rose up and past them, out of sight, looming over the pair. A second wall joined the first, sliding into place with a reverberation so low Aliisza felt it more than heard it. Then a third, and a forth-four massive stone edifices, surrounding her and her companion. And Aliisza was no longer floating, but lying on her back upon a stone floor that was simply there. She hadn't seen it arrive, like the walls. It just was.

The alu stared everywhere. She had the feeling of being inside a massive fortress, solid and forbidding. The walls bore no doors, no windows. No light illuminated the place, as far as she could see, but she could see, and it wasn't just her dark-attuned eyes. The whole place shone with its own inner light, though it wasn't warm and glowing, like the being with her. It was power and force, unyielding strength.

Aliisza looked up. A second figure stood upon a balcony, staring down. Shining plate armor completely encased the warrior, who stood motionless, watching. From the glint of it, Aliisza guessed the armor might be pure mithral. Though she could not see the figure's eyes, she could feel its gaze upon her, and the sensation was more than a little unsettling.

"Remain here," the creature beside her said, then ascended into the air by means of his feathery white wings.

The alu found his motion elegant and watched him with interest as he flew upward to the balcony near the top of the forbidding tower. The creature landed upon the balcony and bowed deeply to the armored figure. The two seemed to engage in a long conversation, and after a time, the celestial being took to the air and descended once more.

As he landed, he furled his wings against himself, a frown upon his face. "Well," he said, almost to himself, "The moment of truth."

"Do you understand the question put before you?" a voice asked, reverberating through the limitless tower.

Aliisza wasn't sure how she knew it was the armored figure, but she knew. It chilled her, made her tremble where she lay upon the floor. It was the voice of a god.

Aliisza turned toward the angelic figure, though it hurt her eyes to look directly upon him. He looked back at her, his face an expression of earnest seriousness. There had been a question?

"You must surrender willingly," the creature said. "I cannot coerce you in any way to abide by the terms. Do you understand this?"

Aliisza tried to shake her head, but could barely move it. She had no strength. "I don't-how can-what terms?" she finally managed to whisper. "Who are you?"

The celestial creature smiled then, and Aliisza found the expression strangely soothing and troubling at the same time. She knew it was genuine, that there was nothing but complete forthrightness in everything he said and did. But there was holy power in that gaze, too, and such divine energy twisted Aliisza's insides, made her cringe in discomfort. They were so opposite, such clashing energy. She could barely abide his presence. She wondered if he felt similar discomfort from her.

"None of those questions require answers at the moment," the creature said, still smiling. "Though I will answer them to the best of my ability once you make a decision. But you must choose first, right now. First, you must understand that, until you agree, there is no compulsion upon you. Once you agree, you will be magically and divinely bound to honor the terms. Know, though, that if you reject my offer, of your own free will, your life is forfeit and the soul of your unborn child will journey to the House of the Triad, to become a petitioner there."

The meaning of the words rushed through Aliisza's weakened body, made her tingle with realization. The knowledge exploded like a thousand candles, all at once, in her mind. She carried a child. The half-fiend knew that the radiant creature standing over her, so powerful and frightening all at the same time, spoke the truth. She did carry a baby within her. Though she'd had no inkling of the situation until that very moment, she knew-no, felt-the truth of it in her bones. She was pregnant.

The thought of bearing a child did not thrill the alu, nor did it dismay her. She had often considered propagating with Kaanyr. It was a pragmatic consideration, fostering offspring that might someday aid in Aliisza's conquests of power. But she also knew that a child born of a union of two half-fiends would likely harbor its own ambitions, its own lusts for dominion. It would want to claim its birthright, and the two creatures standing in its way would be Kaanyr and Aliisza. Just as the cambion had slain his own mother years before, in order to claim her control over the Scourged Legion, so, too, would Kaanyr's whelp eventually try to exterminate its parents in a quest for its rightful place at the top of the pack.

So the alu had always held in check her enthusiasm for reproducing. And she never felt any maternal instincts, any secret joys at the thought of having a baby. At least, she hadn't believed she had, until that very moment. But suddenly, with the celestial creature's utterance of one simple phrase, she knew she had to protect her unborn child.

"So?" the creature asked. "What say you?"

"I still do not know the terms you offer," Aliisza answered, frightened of choosing to abide by anything a holy creature would lay before her, but equally as frightened of the alternative.

"We will travel to the House of the Triad together. For the duration of your pregnancy, you will remain a guest of the Triad, in a habitat suitable for your creature comforts. You will not attempt to escape, nor shall you attempt to cause harm to another in any fashion, either through word or deed. You may choose to spend the duration of your visit on any mental exercises that appeal to you; no one will impose any rhetoric, lectures, or moral tests on you unless you wish it.

"Shall you break any of these rules, your life shall immediately be forfeit, and the spirit of your unborn shall immediately transform into a petitioner in the service of the House of the Triad. At the end of your pregnancy, once you have given birth, you will be called before a tribunal of judges to stand trial for your crimes against the many you have wronged throughout your life."

Aliisza's head swam. She could remain alive, so long as she was a good girl. But it seemed too easy, too simple. The alu suspected a catch.

"How do I know you are dealing honestly with me?" she asked.

The creature seemed surprised. "You have my word," he said, "though I'm not sure that it means much to a creature of your nature. However, given the alternative, I don't see how accepting what I offer can prove any worse."

Aliisza wanted to smirk. You'd be surprised, she thought.

There were times when she was certain that creatures suffering under her auspices would have preferred annihilation to the continued torturous existence she forced upon them. But the urge to protect her child from harm, to see it born, was strong. The thought of failing in that maternal duty was a cold knot in her stomach. She didn't understand why she was reacting so protectively for something she might not ordinarily care for, but she could not deny her feelings.

Besides, the alu thought, suppressing a grin. If nothing else, I will have more than half a year to plan my escape and retribution. I can abide by their oppressive rules and regulations for that long, surely.

Aliisza looked at the creature, who stared down at her, waiting for her to decide her fate, and the fate of the creature growing within her womb. "I accept your terms," she said.

"Of your own free will?"

"No one within this chamber coerces me," the alu responded. "No one compels me to say these words, nor do they manipulate me in any fashion. The decision is my own, freely given and without remorse."

Another blinding flash of light slammed Aliisza. She wanted to scream, but couldn't. The forbidding tower vanished, leaving her floating in the gray void once more before her body seemed to explode into a million pieces.