The elves and Chula scrambled up the strong vines leading to the second-level balcony. King Avalar stood inside the library and directed everyone to an appropriate part of the temple as they entered. With nearly three thousand warriors and mages inside the temple, the elven king felt sure that they would find all of the hidden Motangans and vanquish them. One of the last to climb the vine was Bakhai, the Astor’s brother.
“How is the war outside going?” asked the elven king.
“It goes well,” answered Bakhai. “The remaining hellsouls are being crushed between the Khadorans and the Fakarans not far to the west. It should be over in a few hours. The area around the temple is now solidly in our hands.”
“And soon the inside of the temple will be as well,” nodded King Avalar.
“Unless Vand has more surprises in store for us,” agreed Bakhai. “The skeletons continue to try to get out of the tyrik-web pens that they are trapped in. It will be dangerous when we finally turn our attention to them.”
“Is there a danger of them escaping?” the elven king asked with concern.
“Not in the immediate future,” Bakhai shook his head. “They are trying to climb over the bones of their comrades without coming into contact with the web, but I think it is impossible for them to get free. I have ordered our few remaining tyriks to keep watch on them. They will spin higher webs if it looks like the skeletons might escape.”
“Then what is your concern?” asked King Avalar.
“Sooner or later we must destroy the creatures,” explained the Qubari shaman. “It is not likely that such creatures can be starved to death, so that means that our warriors will have to enter the pens to separate their heads from their bodies. I would not volunteer to be one of those chosen warriors.”
“I understand,” the elven king nodded thoughtfully. “We will discuss how to accomplish that task after the hellsouls are defeated. Our main concern now is making sure the temple is safe. We have three thousand elves and Chula searching every section of the building.”
Several levels above the library, Princess Alastasia led a group of elves in search of Motangan hellsouls. As her small group emerged from a corridor she saw a black-cloak moving stealthily in her direction. The Motangan mage recognized the danger of the chance encounter and turned to flee, but two other black-cloaks suddenly appeared and blocked his path of retreat.
“You are all that is left, Pakar,” scowled Lady Mystic. “Drop your shield, and you will enjoy a swift death; resist and you will be crushed brutally.”
While Lady Mystic threatened Pakar, Xavo’s eyes locked onto Princess Alastasia’s face. He quickly pulled back his hood to show his face, even though he realized that she might not recognize him.
“MistyTrail,” Xavo shouted, “You know me as Malafar. Stand clear while we deal with Vand’s head mage.”
Princess Alastasia smiled and nodded. “We met in Vandamar,” replied the elven princess. “We will stay and watch this duel of magicians.”
Pakar was confused about the relationship between the elf and Xavo, but he harbored no puzzlement regarding his course of action. He had to destroy Lady Mystic and Xavo and flee the temple. Both arms rose instantly, one pointing at Lady Mystic and the other at Xavo. Flames flew from his fingertips, but both of the other mages were shielded, and all the flames did was to illuminate the outline of those shields. Pakar sneered at the Emperor’s daughter, knowing that her energy was almost spent. He could see in the outline of her shield that her power was running out.
“You have taken on too much, too quickly,” he snarled at Lady Mystic. “You shall be the first to fall to my powers.”
Without letting Xavo move outside his field of vision, Pakar concentrated on the Emperor’s daughter. His spells flew from his fingertips in an almost steady stream designed to destroy her shield and strike her down. Lady Mystic did not retaliate as she urged all of her power into strengthening her shields. She knew that Pakar was the strongest mage on the Island of Darkness besides Vand himself, and she was not about to leave herself defenseless.
Xavo stood next to Lady Mystic, seemingly doing nothing to interfere, but a strong cold wind began to whip around the atrium behind Pakar. Princess Alastasia felt the chill immediately as her body shivered involuntarily. At first she wondered where the chill breeze had come from, but then she remembered the stories told in Star City. She remembered how Master Malafar had overcome the Katana’s strong shields. He had used lightning to outline the shields and make them visible. He had then used sound to shrink the shields and cold wind to cause the shields to turn brittle. The princess stared past Pakar and made eye contact with Lyra’s father.
“Let me help,” the princess mouthed silently when Xavo finally acknowledged her with his eyes.
Xavo merely smiled with an almost imperceptible nod of his head. Princess Alastasia knew that Xavo was building his ice storm to attack Pakar’s shields, so she had to do something to make them visible and constrict them. She smiled broadly as she took a seed from her pouch and unobtrusively tossed it near Pakar’s feet.
The elven princess concentrated on the seed and shut everything else out of her mind. Instantly the seed sprouted to life, and a tiny vine began to grow. Alastasia directed the growth of the vine, causing it to encircle Pakar’s shield at the floor level, its tiny web-like stems spreading out like a slowly shattering pane of glass. She concentrated hard to restrict the vine to the shield around the lower half of Pakar’s body. She did not want the mage to be aware of what was happening.
As Xavo’s ice storm grew in intensity just beyond the railing, Princess Alastasia directed the growth of the vine up the back of Pakar’s shield. The black-cloak’s face distorted in rage as he continued to blast away at Lady Mystic’s shield. Alastasia glanced over at Vand’s daughter and saw her shield glowing with energy. Tiny lightning flashes crackled across the surface of the otherwise invisible shield, and the elven princess knew that there was not much time left. She made deliberate eye contact with Xavo, and he nodded noticeably with a sense of urgency.
Princess Alastasia returned her full attention to the rapidly growing vine and suddenly the vine spread all over Pakar’s shield. The black-cloak’s spell casting immediately halted as he sensed the danger inherent in the plant growth covering his shield. As he turned to look at the elven princess, Xavo directed his wintry gale across the railing and onto Pakar’s shield. The shield immediately turned a frosty white, becoming opaque. Princess Alastasia ordered the vines to constrict, and they exerted tremendous pressure as the stems intertwined and tightened rapidly.
Lady Mystic immediately dropped her shield and brought her coupled hands out in front of her. A surge of power shot from her fists and smashed into the frosty, vine-covered shield of Pakar. The shield shattered like a wine goblet hitting a stone floor. Xavo was ready with a force bolt of his own as the shield shattered. He directed the energy at the now unprotected black-cloak, and Pakar’s body flew backward through the railing, with a large hole in what used to be the man’s chest. Pakar’s body dropped silently down to the ground level of the atrium.
“That was close,” Lady Mystic sighed with relief. “Too close.”
“He was a powerful mage,” nodded Xavo, “and the last of Vand’s mages.”
“Are you sure?” asked Princess Alastasia.
“I am sure,” nodded Xavo.
“Well,” smiled Princess Alastasia as she signaled for her group to continue hunting for Motangans, “then you two can rest while we clean up the hellsouls.”
“Wait,” Xavo said softly as his hand reached out and stopped the elven princess from following her group. “We need your help.”
“You need healing?” Alastasia asked with concern.
“Not healing,” Xavo shook his head. “Lyra destroyed the staircases to the uppermost level. We need your help in getting up there. Can you create one of those vines that will be strong enough for us to climb?”
“Easily,” nodded the elven princess, “but I do not understand. I thought the Three had to meet Vand alone. I fear what may happen if you two try to interfere.”
“We do not plan to interfere with the Three,” promised Lyra’s father. “We have other business on the top level.”
“It will have to wait,” Alastasia shook her head. “If it was alright for others to interfere in the final battle, every one of us would be rushing to get up there, but Marak warned us against that. Vand can use the presence of others to diminish the skills of the Three. I cannot help you.”
“Tell her the truth,” scowled Lady Mystic. “Time is slipping away from us.”
Princess Alastasia frowned at Lady Mystic’s outburst and stared into Xavo’s eyes. She waited for Lyra’s father to explain.
“Alright,” sighed Xavo. “We do not plan to interfere with the battle directly, but we can help the Three win another way.”
“How?” Princess Alastasia asked skeptically.
“Vand derives his power from Dobuk,” explained Xavo. “If Lady Mystic and I can attack Dobuk while Lyra and Marak are fighting Vand, we can lessen the power available to Vand. It just might make the difference between failure and success.”
“No one can fight Dobuk,” Princess Alastasia shook her head. “It is certain death even to try.”
“We are aware of that,” Lady Mystic interjected, “but even the Great Demon must expend power to vanquish us.”
“I have been in his presence before,” Xavo quickly added. “I think we can make him expend quite a bit of energy before he kills us.”
“You are both crazy,” balked Alastasia.
“Perhaps,” smiled Xavo, “but it is my daughter in that room with Vand. I want her to live through this battle. Help us.”
Princess Alastasia stared at the two mage in disbelief for several minutes. Finally, she smiled with tears forming in her eyes and nodded in agreement.
“Let’s hurry before I change my mind,” Alastasia said softly.
* * *
“Not that door,” warned Rejji. “That is where Dobuk resides.”
Marak and Lyra immediately halted and then slowly backed away from the door.
“That is the end then,” Marak remarked. “The only doors left are the ones to the throne room.”
“None of Pakar’s mages remained on this level,” declared the Star of Sakova. “It is time to confront Vand and end this completely.”
“There are three doors to the throne room,” Rejji pointed out. “Should we each take one?”
“I think Lyra and I should enter through the main door,” stated the Torak. “That will put us as far away from Vand as possible when we enter. I want to see what he tries to do, and the distance may help protect us.”
“I will give you time to enter,” nodded Rejji, “and then I will come in one of the side doors. Maybe my entry will distract Vand a bit.”
“Be careful,” warned Lyra. “Your lack of magical skills may make you Vand’s first target.”
Rejji nodded as Lyra and Marak departed. The Torak and the Star walked the long corridor along the throne room and emerged at the front doors. Marak hesitated as his hand nervously moved to open the door.
“Use your blue cylinder inside,” advised the Torak.
Lyra nodded and Marak threw open the door and burst into the room. Lyra followed closely on his heels and immediately summoned her spell of protection. The blue cylinder blazed to life as Lyra moved into the room. At the far end of the room, Emperor Vand sat calmly on his throne.
“I was expecting three of you,” Vand said as if he had offered invitations for a social gathering. “Approach.”
Marak’s brow creased in confusion, and he shot a glance at the Star of Sakova. His eyes scanned the room looking for traps or concealed assistants, but the room was fairly empty. There was a table at the foot of the stairs leading up to the throne, and three chairs sat before it. In the far corner of the large room was a little girl holding a silver tray with four silver cups upon it.
“Come,” urged Vand. “Come and sit down, and let us discuss our differences over a cup of tea.”
Lyra and Marak exchanged puzzled glances. It was not the type of reception that they had planned on. At that moment, the side door opened near the little girl, and Rejji walked into the room holding his staff.
“Ah,” smiled Vand, “the Astor has come after all. Your companions were just about to sit down and have some tea. Why don’t you join them?”
“What game are you playing?” Marak asked brusquely. “We have not come to socialize with you, and I am certain that you realize that.”
“Have it your way then,” grinned the Motangan Emperor as he waved his hand slightly.
There was neither a clap of thunder nor a flash of light as the result of Vand’s spell casting. It took a moment for Marak to understand what the spell had accomplished. Where the three doors to the throne had existed, there was nothing but solid walls. There was no way in or out of the throne room.
“There is still time for tea before we start this unfortunate business,” smiled Vand as he indicated to the little girl to serve the refreshments.
As the little girl passed in front of Rejji, his staff grew hot to the touch. His brow knitted with confusion, and he shook his head in puzzlement. He stared at the little girl for a moment and then moved swiftly in reaction to the warning given by the staff. The Astor swung his staff hard at the little girl’s head. As Lyra gasped in surprise, the little girl’s body hit the floor hard and slid along it. Vand started laughing, and the little girl bellowed in rage, her voice low and thundering. Before the eyes of the Three, the little girl’s body instantly transformed in a giant demon.
“Zarapeto!” exclaimed Marak as he drew the Sword of Torak and moved cautiously towards the demon.
“I see you have come to know my pets,” grinned Vand. “There will be no dragon to help you this time, Torak. Come, demonstrate your skills for me. I am eager to watch you fight.”
Rejji approached the demon from behind, and Zarapeto turned quickly to snare the Astor.
“Not the Fakaran,” admonished Vand. “I have need of him, and he is no threat to me. Kill the Torak.”
Zarapeto snarled and spat in the Emperor’s direction. The acidic spittle landed on the table and began to smoke as it ate through the wood.
“He seems to have little respect for you,” Marak taunted Vand. “I guess that is a feeling that everyone in this rooms shares.”
“Then everyone in this room will have to be eliminated,” Vand growled loudly.
Zarapeto shot a glance of disgust in Vand’s direction, and Marak saw his opening. The Torak dove towards the demon, rolling in a ball and coming to his feet directly in front of the large creature. The move was sudden, and the demon stepped back in surprise, but not before the Sword of Torak sliced into his leg.
Rejji raced forward and swung his staff hard behind the demon’s knees. The demon’s legs buckled as the creature tried to turn around and grab Rejji. Marak leaped up onto the demon’s bent thigh and shoved his sword upward. The sword punctured the demon’s throat, and Zarapeto’s scream was a loud gurgle. As the demon straightened his legs and reached for his throat, Marak was thrown to the floor, the Sword of Torak slipping from his grasp and skittering away.
Zarapeto kicked out with his foot towards Marak, and the Torak rolled swiftly away from the sharp claws. Lyra moved quickly to put herself between the demon and Marak, figuring that her blue cylinder would maim Zarapeto. The demon stopped long enough to turn and bash Rejji with the back of his hand. The Astor flew through the air, fell to the floor, and slid along the tile until he collided with a wall. Marak scrambled for his sword while the Star of Sakova stood blocking the demon’s path.
Zarapeto snarled in pain as he slowly approached Lyra, black blood flowing from the wound in his neck. He stretched his clawed hand out before him and reached for Lyra’s head as if he were prepared to crush a grape. Lyra trembled, but she stood her ground to give Marak time to rearm himself. When Zarapeto’s hand reached through the protective blue cylinder, Lyra screamed and shuffled backwards. Vand laughed loudly.
“Zarapeto exists in another plane,” chuckled Vand. “Your puny spell of protection has no effect on him.”
As the demon closed in on the Star of Sakova, Marak snatched the Sword of Torak and raced towards the demon.
“Drop the spell,” Marak shouted to Lyra, “and move away.”
The blue cylinder winked out immediately as Lyra turned and raced towards the wall. Zarapeto was struck with a moment of indecision as he wondered whether to pursue the Star of Sakova or the charging Torak. Lyra was closer, and the demon made up his mind. He turned and stretched out his arm to snare Lyra. Marak launched himself into a dive, his sword stretched out before him. The Sword of Torak struck the demon’s wrist and imbedded deeply. Zarapeto wailed and pulled his arm in close to his body, causing the Torak to lose his grip on the sword and tumble to the floor weaponless.
The demon howled as he shook his arm to rid it of the imbedded sword. Rejji picked himself up off the floor and shook his head to clear his vision. Stars danced before his eyes, but he could see well enough to know that Lyra and Marak needed his help. He grabbed his staff and raced up behind the demon. He ran swiftly and shoved the end of the staff into the back of Zarapeto’s knee. The demon tottered for a moment, and Rejji struck the other leg. Zarapeto fell to his knees, still shaking his arm and staring at the Sword of Torak as if wanting it gone, but afraid to touch it with his free hand.
Lyra saw a chance to strike and took it. She pulled out her rapier and ran towards the demon’s face. Before Zarapeto could register the threat, Lyra shoved the rapier into the demon’s right eye. Zarapeto’s head reared back in anguish as Marak rose and grabbed the hilt of the Sword of Torak. He pulled the sword free and swung it at the wounded hand. As the creature’s hand fell to the floor, the demon thrashed in agony. One flailing arm caught Lyra in the chest and sent her sprawling. The handless arm swung towards Marak, but he ducked under it and shoved the Sword of Torak into the demon’s side. Rejji struck repeatedly at the back of the demon with his staff, but Zarapeto appeared not to notice, the pain in his side overwhelming everything else.
“Switch,” shouted Marak as he pulled on the Sword of Torak and rolled free of the demon.
Rejji nodded and moved around to Zarapeto’s side. He shoved the tip of the staff deep into the wound and moved it around. The demon’s wounded arm flailed around, but it could not reach the Astor. While Rejji was infuriating the demon, Marak moved behind the creature and swung hard at its exposed legs. The Sword of Torak sliced deep into the demon’s leg and black blood flowed freely onto the floor. The Torak moved quickly to the other leg and sliced it open. With an inhuman scream, Zarapeto threw his body forward and crashed to the floor. Marak immediately marched onto the demon’s back and shoved the Sword of Torak deep into the back of the demon’s head. The creature thrashed about for several seconds and then fell still.
“Bravo,” congratulated Vand with mocking applause. “You have shown great skill in defeating a moronic creature. Now that you have had your fun, let the real contest begin.”