AS ON HIS OTHER JOURNEYS THROUGH THE PASS, TRISTANcould feel Shadow moving beneath him, but he could hear nothing and see only azure. A dense fog surrounded him, its depths so all-encompassing that it appeared limitless.
Just then Shadow stepped from the fog. As the azure mist surrounding him disappeared, Tristan looked around. He was indeed in Crysenium. The room was the same one in which he had awakened during his first visit.
Relieved that he had arrived safely, he dismounted. Shadow danced nervously as the stallion took in his new surroundings. Tristan rubbed Shadow’s head and the horse calmed. After tying the reins to a nearby column, theJin’Sai looked around.
The crystalline, spherical chamber looked exactly as before. Dozens of azure columns rose from the shiny floor and reached high into the air. The transparent ceiling showed a beautiful blue sky overhead. Determined to find the Envoys, he started to take the short walk to the meeting room where he had learned so many revelations.
“Welcome back, Jin’Sai, ” a voice said. “I am glad that you have returned.”
Tristan spun around to see Xanthus in his human form. Xanthus still wore the familiar black leather duster with the dark robe beneath it. As he walked toward the prince he held his axe and shield in his hands.
“Xanthus,” Tristan breathed. “You’re alive…”
“So it would seem,” the Darkling answered. When Xanthus spoke, he spun his axe with one hand, its blade turning so quickly that it hummed through the air.
Tristan suddenly felt hisK’Shari rising without having been beckoned. He tried to stay calm by reminding himself that Xanthus was a friend. But he soon realized that it was no use. Deciding to trust his blood, Tristan eyed Xanthus warily.
“Where are the Envoys?” he asked.
“They await you in the meeting room,” Xanthus answered cryptically.
Tristan instinctively stepped backward to gain some breathing room. It did not go unnoticed by Xanthus. Spinning his axe again, he smiled.
“You see,” he said, “I am no longer the Envoys’ servant. After Faxon and I returned to Rustannica, thePon Q’tar discovered the deception. By the way, Faxon is dead. He died screaming like the traitorous pig that he was.”
A chill went down Tristan’s spine as he realized that hisK’Shari had been right to warn him. “You are again a servant of thePon Q’tar, aren’t you?” Tristan asked. “But when we said our farewells, you were firmly committed to the Envoys. The Envoys were about to change your memories with such finality that their deception would prove impossible to unravel, even by thePon Q’tar. ”
“All that is true,” Xanthus answered. “The Envoys did alter my memories. But they underestimated thePon Q’tar clerics. The clerics have devised a new spell called ‘the nautilus effect.’ They used it to uncover my true past-the past that the Envoys tried to hide.”
“What is the nautilus effect?” Tristan asked.
Xanthus shook his head. “I am not at liberty to say, Jin’Sai. But I will tell you this much: ThePon Q’tar have returned my blood signature to its original, deeply left-leaning state. I again serve them, and they have granted me a final chance to redeem myself. When I told them that you would return, they decided to send me back to kill you, rather than take you in. You have learned too much, you see. They want there to be no chance whatsoever of you contacting the Heretic rebels-even to the point that they are willing to give up the notion of taking you alive.”
“What killed Serena and Clarice?” Tristan demanded. “Did the Vagaries queen commit suicide and take her child with her?”
“Of course not, you fool,” Xanthus answered. “ThePon Q’tar killed her.”
“Why would they do that?” Tristan breathed. “ThePon Q’tar had so much invested in her… They had such plans for Clarice…”
“True,” Xanthus answered. “But as the Recluse became untenable, thePon Q’tar knew that it would be far better for Serena and Clarice to perish, rather than to fall into the hands of the Conclave. Serena trusted thePon Q’tar completely. They exploited that trust to trick her into using a spell to end her life and the life of her child. By the way, marking the envelopers and crashing one of your Black Ships through the Recluse drawbridge were very clever tactics. ThePon Q’tar clerics were impressed.”
“The Envoys will never let you take me,” Tristan protested.
“I think that they will,” Xanthus answered cryptically. He smiled again and raised his axe.
“You are about to die, Jin’Sai, ” he said. “You can either try to defend yourself, or simply let me kill you with one blow and grant you a quick death. Either way, your head goes back with me to Rustannica.”
Tristan narrowed his eyes. “Why would you attack me with your axe when you could easily kill me with the craft?”
When the Darkling didn’t answer, Tristan realized that he was onto something. He looked into Xanthus’ eyes.
“ThePon Q’tar clerics still don’t trust you completely, do they?” he demanded. “Despite their discovery of the so-called nautilus effect, they aren’t entirely sure that the Envoys didn’t plant some other spell or device into your being that remains to be found. Because of those misgivings, they stripped you of your gifts before sending you back to Crysenium. They want you to kill me, but they have limited your abilities in case you are still a traitor.
“I’m right, aren’t I, you hideous freak?” Tristan pressed. “Your craft powers have been compromised! That’s why you must appear to me in human form! The only way that you can kill me is by physical force! Because you plan to kill me with your axe, I suspect that they took everything from you but your gift ofK’Shari! Because they know that I do not command the same gift, they believe that I will be an easy kill for you! Tell me, Xanthus-how does it feel to be thePon Q’tar ’s castrated lapdog?”
To Tristan’s surprise, Xanthus smiled again. “Well done,” he said quietly. “They told me that you were a quick study. But you left something out. They promised that when I kill you, they will return all my past gifts to me. Moreover, I will be granted an even higher rank in the Imperial Order.”
“And you believed them, you fool,” Tristan answered. “Didn’t the way they betrayed Serena tell you anything?”
Xanthus’ smile vanished. “You had best let me kill you quickly,” he warned. “You cannot defeat me. I commandK’Shari, and you do not.”
Tristan drew his sword. With his free hand he slowly reached beneath his vest and produced something. He held it up before Xanthus’ eyes. It was the blank scroll that Aeolus had given him to confirm his mastery ofK’Shari.
Tristan had meant the scroll to be a symbolic gift to the Crysenium Envoys, marking his safe return. But now its symbolism would serve a far more deadly purpose. He tossed the scroll at Xanthus’ feet. As theJin’Sai started to circle his enemy he raised his weapon.
“My ears hear no begging,” Tristan whispered. “My eyes see no pain. My heart feels no remorse.” TheJin’Sai immediately felt his gift wash over him, empowering him and calming his center for the coming fight.
As the realization sank in, Xanthus stood stock-still for a moment. Knowing that there could be no going back, he too recited the three phrases and started to circle his opponent.
“I understand,” he said softly. “Since the first moment I saw you, I somehow knew that it would come to this.”
“As did I,” Tristan answered.
Xanthus’ first strike came so fast that Tristan barely saw it coming. Slipping to one side, theJin’Sai dodged the axe and brought down his dreggan. But Xanthus recovered quickly and lifted his shield. Sparks flew as Tristan’s dreggan struck it and slid harmlessly off to one side. Their first clash proving inconclusive, the warriors circled each other again.
Within an instant, they struck at each other simultaneously. With an earsplitting clang, Tristan’s blade and the Darkling’s axe came to a quick stop as Tristan’s blade caught in the joint where Xanthus’ axe head joined its handle. Struggling mightily, each stood his ground, trying not to be the first to back away.
Suddenly their weapon blades started to glow with the azure hue of the craft, and there came a thunderous explosion. Azure smoke rose, and the two combatants were thrust away from each other to go skidding across the shiny floor.
Tristan came to a stop on his back. He looked up through the haze just in time to see Xanthus rushing at him. His azure axe twinkling in the light, Xanthus brought it down with everything he had.
Tristan rolled hard to the right. With a great crash, Xanthus’ axe barely missed theJin’Sai and split the floor’s entire length in half. The massive concussion resonated through the walls and caused the transparent ceiling to shatter. Crystalline shards rained down into the room.
As Xanthus struggled to free his blade, Tristan jumped to his feet and brought his dreggan whistling around. But Xanthus again blocked it with his shield. Finally the Darkling’s axe came free and Xanthus attacked again, forcing Tristan to back up.
As the battle seesawed back and forth, the fighters quickly neared where Shadow was tied, causing the horse to rear nervously on his hind legs as far as his reins would allow. Soon Tristan found himself being forced toward the hallway entrance.
As they passed though the crystalline door frame, it split thunderously apart. Several more cracks split the hallway walls, and lengthened violently to match the combatants’ forward progress. Tristan could only guess that these phenomena were being caused because twoK’Shari masters had called on their gifts simultaneously. But he couldn’t risk thinking about that now.
The whirling axe came around again, but this time Tristan raised his dreggan a fraction of a second too slow. Xanthus’ blow resonated so harshly through the dreggan blade and into Tristan’s hands that the sword fell from his grip to go clattering to the floor. Xanthus immediately kicked the dreggan past Tristan and sent it skidding down the hallway.
Tristan was tempted to turn his back on Xanthus and go chasing after his sword, but every instinct told him not to. Knowing that he finally had Tristan trapped, Xanthus smiled. Tristan watched him raise the glowing axe.
Having no choice but to completely trust in his gift, for the first time Tristan surrendered his entire being to hisK’Shari. As he did, the down-stroke of Xanthus’ axe seemed to slow to the point that sidestepping the blow was effortless. The nature of Tristan’s next move was revealed to him with crystal clarity. He reached behind his right shoulder.
The two throwing knives came into his right hand so quickly that he had grasped them even before Xanthus finished his strike. He took one dirk into his left hand.
Tristan lashed out. As he backed away, he heard a scream.
One knife handle protruded from each of Xanthus’ eyes. Screaming again, the Darkling waved his arms and staggered about blindly. Blood ran from his eye sockets and down onto his black robe. His axe and shield stopped glowing and went clattering to the floor. Then he fell forward, dead where he lay.
His chest heaving, Tristan stood there for a moment, staring at Xanthus’ bloody corpse. Facing certain death and having no other alternative had finally forced him to learn how to let go, and to trust his new gift entirely. It was a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget.
When he walked to collect his dreggan, he thought he heard someone softly call out. As he picked up his sword he heard the wind moaning through the shattered ceiling in the other room, but nothing else.
“Tristan,” someone whispered. This time there could be no mistaking it.
Holding his sword high, he crept down the hallway. He took a deep breath and stepped quickly into the next room.
The meeting chamber was a bloodbath. Eleven of the twelve Envoys lay dead. Azure blood was splattered everywhere. Bodies and body parts were strewn about the room, and the transparent panel that had once graced part of the curved wall had been destroyed. Dark smudges dirtied much of the chamber, telling Tristan that azure bolts had been used in the recent battle.
But if they are all dead, who called my name? Tristan wondered. He was about to check each body for signs of life when he heard the lone voice call out again.
“Jin’Sai,”a woman whispered.
Tristan looked across the room to see Hoskiko lying on the bloody floor. She had raised herself up onto her elbows and was trying to crawl toward him. Sheathing his dreggan, he ran to her and cradled her in his arms.
A deep wound lay beneath Hoskiko’s once-immaculate white robe. Dried blood lay crusted on the garment and in her long gray hair. Her eyes were losing their luster. As she gently reached up to touch his face, she smiled.
“You’re alive…,” she said. “I heard the fighting. Did you kill Xanthus?”
“Yes,” he answered gently. “What happened here?”
“The Imperial Order came,” she answered. “When thePon Q’tar learned about Crysenium, they sent them to destroy us. Xanthus came with them. We tried to fight back, but there were too many of them.”
“How did you survive?” Tristan asked.
Hoskiko managed a weak smile. “I fooled them,” she answered. Then she coughed, bringing up some blood. As Tristan felt his heart tear in two, he held her closer.
“I used a spell to slow my heartbeat and mimic death,” she said. “It might have been cowardly of me, but I had to stay alive long enough to see you return. There is so much that you still do not know…”
“I don’t understand,” Tristan said. “If the Imperial Order was here, why didn’tthey kill me? Why would they leave, and trust the job to Xanthus?”
“Because Xanthus had been compromised by the Envoys, he had become more expendable,” she answered weakly. “You must always remember that thePon Q’tar ’s paranoia knows no bounds. But there is another reason why the Imperial Order left so soon after finishing their dirty work. They boasted about it as they watched the others die.”
“Why?” Tristan asked.
“With what strength I have remaining, I am cloaking your blood,” Hoskiko answered. “At the same time, thePon Q’tar is trying to sense your blood from afar. When I die, they will succeed. If they sense it long enough, they will know that Xanthus failed to kill you. Their only choice will be to summon the Borderlands to destroy you and Crysenium. That is why the Imperial Order didn’t wait.” Raising herself up a little, she looked sternly into Tristan’s eyes.
“You must leave here immediately!” she begged him. “When I die, thePon Q’tar ’s rage will know no limits! The form the Borderlands will take will be savage, and all-encompassing!”
“I will take you with me,” Tristan insisted.
“No!” Hoskiko answered. “I am too far gone-we both know that. My time is over!”
“But where am I to go?” Tristan asked. “If Crysenium is destroyed, I will die in the Borderlands!”
“Go home!” Hoskiko said weakly. “Call forth the Forestallment that we granted to your blood and go back to Eutracia! But you must leave quickly! As the Borderlands near, magic will become useless and you will lose your ability to call forth the Forestallment!”
Tristan’s mind raced as he turned to look through the empty space where the viewing panel had once been. The deceiving scene on the other side remained idyllic. But if Hoskiko was right, it would soon become a living nightmare.
“All right,” he said. “I’ll go back. But I’ll never forget you.”
“What you must remember above all is the true nature of your and Shailiha’s destinies,” she said. “Because thePon Q’tar knows that you finally understand this, they will do everything they can to keep you from coming back. Despite their great power, they fear the coming of you and your sister more than anything in the world. You must find a way to cross the Tolenka Mountains, or to conquer the polar ice caps that imprison the Sea of Whispers to the north and the south. Return and seek out the Heretical splinter group. Only then can you start to heal the terrible wounds on this side of the world.”
Tristan nodded. “Somehow I will find a way,” he answered.
As he held her, he saw a tear leave Hoskiko’s eye. She weakly reached up to touch his face.
“You are the firstJin’Sai to reach us,” she said softly. “And now that you have, we failed you. There is so much that we had planned to tell you-so much that you and your sister deserve to know.” As Hoskiko coughed again, Tristan could see that she was nearing the end.
“The rebel group you seek is called the League of Whispers,” she said. “That is all I can tell you about them, because only Faxon knew their many secrets. But before I die, there is something else that you should know. It’s about your parents, Nicholas and Morganna. They weren’t…” She gasped. “They weren’t…”
His eyes wide with anticipation, Tristan clutched Hoskiko harder. “They weren’twhat?” he shouted. But then Hoskiko closed her eyes, and her head fell to one side.
He knelt there for too long, mourning the loss of the Envoys and wondering what Hoskiko might have told him about his late parents. Then the rumbling noises started, and they suddenly brought him back to reality. He gently placed Hoskiko’s body on the floor and quickly turned to look out the gaping hole in the wall.
The Borderlands were forming.
Tristan stood aghast as he watched the sky darken. Suddenly the ground shook violently, and Crysenium trembled with it. To his horror, the distant earth was starting to heave itself upward into dozens of volcanic cones. As more cones erupted, they started forming a path toward Crysenium.
The dark cones erupted so quickly that they rose to maturity in a matter of seconds. With their coming, Crysenium shook even more violently, and part of the meeting room ceiling came crashing down.
On reaching their complete heights, all the volcanoes erupted into raging infernos, spewing tons of ash and molten lava into the air. As the lava cascaded down their dark sides and poured across the valley, it immediately vaporized everything it touched. In only moments it would engulf the entire structure.
For the last time, Tristan looked at the other dead Envoys, then back down at Hoskiko. She seemed peaceful, and finally at rest. Leaving the room, he tore down the hallway as fast as he could.
By now Shadow had become nearly mad with fear. Tristan ran across the shattered floor and untied the stallion. He threw himself up into the saddle just as the molten lava touched one of Crysenium’s outside walls.
With a mighty explosion, the crystalline wall burst into flames and crumbled inward, allowing the lava to invade the room. Several columns crashed down, narrowly missing Tristan and Shadow. As lava washed across the shattered floor, Tristan wheeled Shadow around. Praying that it would still work, Tristan called on his Forestallment.
The azure mist blessedly appeared, but he knew it wouldn’t last long. Spurring Shadow for all he was worth, he charged the stallion headlong into it.
The silent, dense fog surrounded him again, and at first he thought that he was safe. But then he felt the searing heat, and he knew. As Shadow galloped beneath him, Tristan turned to look. The lava flow was chasing after them.
All he could see was a huge, blurry wall of glowing red rushing after him, but he knew that it could be nothing else. He did his best to spur Shadow faster, but in the whirling midst of the Forestallment he couldn’t tell if the horse was gaining speed. The heat was becoming more unbearable by the moment, and he suspected that the lava would soon reach them, engulfing them forever.
Suddenly Shadow burst out the other side of the azure pass and into the charred forest. The sudden change in footing surprised the horse and rider and sent them tumbling to the ground.
Tristan launched high over Shadow’s head as the stallion hit the ground and skidded through the dark ash covering the forest floor. Then they went crashing straight into the Minion campsite that lay just beyond. Startled warriors ran and took to the air as Tristan and the neighing horse took down two tents, then barreled through the campfire before coming to a stop. Stunned into speechlessness, the warriors ran to help them.
The Minions lifted Tristan to his feet. He seemed dazed but unhurt. Shadow rolled over and stood shakily. Then Tristan came to his senses, and he suddenly remembered the lava flow.
“Everyone into the air!” he screamed. “One of you must take me aloft!”
One of the warriors immediately took Tristan into his arms, and they all quickly went aloft. When they had reached a height of about ten meters, Tristan told them to hover and turn toward the azure pass. Soon the ground started to shake, and everyone heard a great rumbling sound. When Shadow sensed the returning danger he turned and galloped wildly down the mountainside.
Tristan and the warriors watched in amazement as the azure pass started changing color. As the glowing red lava neared it, the pass morphed from bright azure into green, and then from green into glowing red. With a thunderous rumble, the lava finally reached the face of the pass. Suddenly the pass immediately exploded outward, and was no more.
Amazingly, the lava did not rush into the forest. Instead, it halted its forward advance and started rising up, filling the mountain gap left behind by the destroyed pass. Higher and higher it rose, until, like the pass had once done, it too became lost in the clouds. Then Tristan and the warriors watched as it somehow cooled immediately and turned to dark granite. It was like the pass had never existed.
Tristan ordered the warriors back to the ground. After finding an overturned camp stool he righted it and sat down. As the stunned warriors surrounded him, their commanding officer knelt beside his lord.
“Jin’Sai,”he breathed. “What just happened?”
Tristan took a deep breath and looked back up at the monolithic mountains that still held so many secrets.
“A dream just died,” he answered quietly. “And a new one has been born.”