And then, before Anigrel could move or protest, she tore open his ribs and plucked out his heart.
Blood sprayed over Lycaelon as Anigrel's body dropped to the ground. The Arch-Mage scrabbled backward through the cold wet leaves with a despairing cry.
The Demon bit into the still-pulsing heart as if it were a choice piece of fruit. Chewed. Swallowed.
"Perhaps too quick," she commented. "But he has annoyed me for a very long time with his protestations of soft human love. Do not hope that you may join him, Mage-man. I have something special planned for you. Something rich and rare. I shall enjoy it very much. Perhaps you can bring yourself to enjoy it, too."
* * * * *
"I do not wish to leave you here," Redhelwar said uneasily, as Idalia and Cilarnen dismounted at the City gates.
"You are needed with the army," Idalia said. "You must go. Besides, we have Jermayan and Ancaladar."
"Be sure that I will defend both Idalia and Cilarnen with my life," Jermayan said, stepping out through the open gates.
"And I," said Ancaladar, craning his long neck down so that his head was on a level with them. "I think they might not wish to upset me, you know."
Behind Jermayan, the Delfier Plaza stood as empty as if Cilarnen had obliterated all of the inhabitants of Armethalieh along with its magick.
"Come on," Cilarnen said. "We have to get to the Council House. The first thing that has to be done is to re-cast the Wards. Properly, this time. The way they should be."
"And I will close the gates," Ancaladar said, as they stepped inside.
* * * * *
SHE had been gone from this city almost half her life, and certainly for the best part. As she heard the bronze panels of the Great Gate bang closed behind her with Ancaladar's enthusiastic help, all she could think of was that this city that the High Mages were so proud of was much cruder and shabbier than she remembered it being.
Not smaller, of course. It was larger than all of the Elven Cities probably put together. But then, no Elf would consider, even for an instant, living in the ugliness and squalor of the poorer quarters of Armethalieh. Nor would they be willing to live so closely packed together. It would not even be possible, without magic. A lot of magic.
"Cilarnen, did you take all the magick off of the City?"
He chuckled, shaking his head. "No. I haven't got that much power, even with the help of the Shining Ones. But the Wards seem to be linked to a lot more spells than I thought. It isn't as if I ever really had a chance to study the spell, or I could have done a much more elegant job. The bell-towers, though… I think they must have been linked to the Wards, somehow. I hope no one was hurt when the towers collapsed, but it was only the tallest spires that fell, and all of those would have been in the Mage-quarter, or near it the Temple of the Light, the Mage College, the Great Library, the Garden Park. The Council House itself will be safe. It does not have a tower. The other carillons in the Merchants' Quarter and the Garden Market are all fairly sturdy. They will be dis-timed, and will no longer ring, but I do not think they will have fallen. The carillons in the Nobles Quarter will all have shattered, but they are not heavy ones, and the Nobles will complain, but they are always complaining, and here we are."
Before them stood the bronze doors of the Council House. They were flanked on each side by a row of Stone Golems. Cilarnen reached out, cautiously, and tapped the nearest one. It did not move.
"Perhaps they, too, have been disenchanted," Jermayan said musingly.
"I think so," Cilarnen said cautiously. "I've been Banished, Idalia's a Wild-mage, and you, well, you're an Elf. They shouldn't let any of the three of us within a hundred yards of these doors without trying to tear us into pieces."
"That's comforting, I don't think," Idalia said.
"Well it is," Cilarnen insisted. "If they aren't attacking, it means my spell took down not only the City Wards, but every piece of defensive magick Armethalieh has, at least in the Mage Quarter, where most of the spells would be. Not so good when you consider that there's a whole Enemy army outside right now trying to get in, but since we're trying to get in, too without being killed it's a good thing for us."
"Lead on, then," Idalia said.
Cilarnen mounted the steps and pushed at one of the great bronze doors. Since the doors normally opened and closed by magick, it took the three of them to move it, but at last they got it open.
* * * * *
"NO no no!" A gray-robed Council Page stood in the center of the hallway, eyes wide with terror at the sight of the three strangely-garbed intruders. "Get back!"
The boy was a few years younger than Cilarnen was, and obviously half-mad with fear. Cilarnen had never served as a Council House Page because of his rank, but he knew the duties that the Pages performed. This young man would have been supposed to wait in the hall and watch over the doors, but especially today he would never have expected them to open.
And Cilarnen well knew what a horrifying sight he and his two companions presented in their furs and armor.
"I am Lord Cilarnen of House Volpiril, and I must see the High Council at once," Cilarnen said. "You must conduct us to them immediately."
"I I I Wait here." The Page turned and fled, his soft boots scuffling across the black and white marble floor.
"Do we wait?" Idalia asked.
"No," Cilarnen said. "I think I know the way."
* * * * *
BUT they had not gone more than a few steps toward the Council Chamber before their path was blocked by six Magewardens.
"I am here to see the High Council," Cilarnen repeated.
There was a sudden flare as the Magewardens' Spells raged and died against the violet glow of Cilarnen's Mage-Shield. One moment Cilarnen had been standing, apparently defenseless. The next, the air between him and the Magewardens was filled with the shimmering light of his spell.
"Do you think I am an idiot?" Cilarnen demanded angrily. "The Arch-Mage has been kidnapped by Demons Demons whom you serve, because Lord Anigrel is your master! You all saw Them today, if you aren't blind. Now get out of my way, before I do to you what my friends are going to do to Them."
"Cilarnen?" one of the Magewardens said, stepping forward. "Cilarnen Volpiril?"
"Geont?"
Geont Pentres had been one of his fellow conspirators in a conspiracy, Cilarnen knew now, that had been created entirely by Anigrel to gain himself a Council seat and remove those members of the High Council like Lord Volpiril who could interfere in his plans to hand Armethalieh over to the Demons.
"You were Banished. Stripped of your Gift. What are you doing here? How do you know me?" The young Magewarden stared at Cilarnen, frowning in confusion.
"Once we were close friends, Geont. Anigrel lied to us both. I was Banished but not stripped of my Magegift. Your memories were changed, if you do not know me. I am sorry to see you have become Anigrel's hound. Once you would have given anything to save Armethalieh from the same enemy you now serve."
"I still will. Do you swear by the Light that you come here in peace?"
"I swear it, Geont. And these who are with me come in peace as well. They're my friends."
Geont Pentres stared past Cilarnen, now looking not only confused, but appalled.
"An Elf. And… a woman."
Cilarnen smiled. "She's Lord Lycaelon's daughter, Geont, so I'd take that look off my face if I were you. Don't bother saying that you don't remember her, either. You don't remember me, after all. Yes, they are my friends and comrades. And there is a Demon Army outside the City. And we need to see whatever is left of the High Council. Right now."
"Dyvel, go and tell the High Council that Lord Cilarnen Volpiril… Lady Idalia of House Tavadon, and…"
"Jermayan of Sentarshadeen," Idalia supplied helpfully.