The Endarkened died first, their bodies turning to liquid in the crystal cry, spreading across the stone and sinking into it.
The unicorn was not so fortunate.
Any creature to die in the vibrations of the Crystal Spite died a death more agonizing than any even the Endarkened themselves, with all their arts, could contrive. The one who struck the spire and caused the death shared in every moment of the pain.
That was the price of the spell.
And the death of a unicorn, ultimate embodiment of the Light, whose very body it was agony for one of the Endarkened to touch…
Savilla endured as long as she could, but at last the torment drove her to her knees, then upon her face. She groveled in the liquefied bodies of her servants, weeping the thick golden tears of her kind. It was as if she were being unmade. Reduced to humanity. Worse. The agony tore her mind from her, until she no longer understood why she suffered. She did not remember the pain's beginning, and could not believe it would have an end.
But at last as with all things, save the Endarkened it was over.
She lay upon the floor of the Black Chamber, too weak to move.
It thrummed with power.
Except for Savilla, the power was the only thing that remained within the walls of living rock. Everything else was gone.
Scoured.
Empty.
Pure.
* * * * *
A great distance up the narrow path that led to the Black Chamber, Zyperis pressed himself against the wall, shuddering in pain from the echoes of magic. He jerked his head to the side and sunk his fangs into his arm until the blood flowed, but not even that could ease his distress.
He knew what was down here. That was why he had come.
Oh, it was not that he had ever known precisely. But he had known that it was something powerful. Something that his Dearest Mama wished to conceal. Something that required sacrifices, and many of them he had spies in her household, and even in such a time of plenty as had not been seen in a thousand years, when every Endarkened torture chamber was filled to overflowing and the flesh of slaves graced the tables of even the Lesser Endarkened, the disappearances from Savilla's slave-pens were too great to account for by anything other than the working of great and secret spells.
He had set himself to discover what she was doing.
The capture of a unicorn was a great prize, and he had expected to be invited to witness its torture and destruction. The Mage-men they had taken at Nerendale would be of assistance there Mama had decreed that they were to be kept alive, and in reasonable health, in case another dragon might be found.
But when the unicorn had not been offered up and when he had been sent on such a purely transparent errand, an entertaining one, but one that any of the nobles of the Court could have as easily accomplished Zyperis had grown suspicious. What magic could his mother and Queen be working that would involve the death of a unicorn? That her plans neared fruition went without saying, for she could not hope to conceal the creature's disappearance for long.
So he had returned early disobeying her and followed her when she slipped away.
He had marked the beginning of the path she took many times, but had never before dared follow her so far along it. Should he be discovered, he would surely be her next sacrifice.
But here the unicorn's magic was his ally, for not only did it mask his own presence, its hateful taint provided a beacon for him to follow.
Never before had he penetrated so deeply into The World Without Sun, and Zyperis had been certain he knew every twist and turn of their vast and beautiful world. Following Savilla, it seemed to him as if he entered another realm entirely one that promised power, but at a price so high that, even though he did not know what it was, it woke fear in his very bones.
When he heard her speak, he stopped.
And then pain had come. Pain and terror and knowledge.
She means to bring He Who Is to walk our world again!
He Who Is would grant them victory over the Children of the Light. His power was unstoppable. The knowledge of Savilla's act should have brought Zyperis great joy.
Except for one thing.
To the one who freed him, He Who Is would grant great favor. Savilla would be Queen of the Endarkened forever.
She would have no successor.
* * * * *
AFTER Jermayan and Idalia had left for Sentarshadeen, Kellen took Vestakia down into the caverns.
This time he took a great many more Knights.
It was not merely that he was concerned about her safety though Vestakia was an invaluable resource, one they dared not lose but by now, two days after the battle, the work of refitting Halacira must begin.
Much of the route from the main entrance to the river gallery shimmered with Coldfire now, for the Wildmages had been busy, and they were working quickly to light the lower levels as well. With so many of the side entrances blocked, and soon to be sealed permanently, the cavern air was much more still than it had been when Kellen had first brought his force through here, but Artenel had assured him that there were or at least had been, before the earthshaking many ventilation shafts to the surface, and that he would be able to unblock them within a few sennights.
Of course, each ventilation shaft would present a potential method for the Enemy to gain access to the future Fortress, if not in body, then by poisons, or by small Dark-tainted creatures of their breeding. And Goblins needed no door to enter, being able to pass through solid rock at will.
Artenel would simply have to do the best he could to make the place secure. Perhaps there was something Cilarnen could do to help as well.
* * * * *
"I am very tired of caves," Vestakia said wistfully, as they descended the wide stairs into the first cavern.
"You will find that these caves are like no others you have ever seen," Isinwen told her proudly. "It is a shame that their beauty must be destroyed, but Artenel will make them a fine home for those who must live beneath the earth."
Kellen ignored both of them. He was concentrating on the caves themselves. And, if truth be told, he was trying not to think of Vestakia at all.
"I don't feel anything yet," she said, her voice bright with relief.
By now the caverns seemed almost as familiar to Kellen as Sentarshadeen or the Wildwoods had become. He and his Knights swept the entry level, carefully checking all the surviving side-galleries. Vestakia exclaimed in wonder at the wall carvings, though much of the finer detail on some of the reliefs was gone now, having simply crumbled away, and in the xaique cavern, many of the delicate carved figures lay upon the floor in pieces.
"No… nothing," Vestakia said, when they stood upon the edge of the bridge, staring down at the Angarussa. Thanks to Wirance and the other Wildmages, the entire roof of the river-gallery glowed a pale azure now, giving it the odd illusion of being the open sky. For the first time, Kellen could see the details of the ceiling; it had been carefully worked to resemble something crafted of stone blocks and wooden beams, though the whole had been carved out of one piece of cavern rock. If he strained his eyes, he could see the individual blocks of stone, the bolts and plates that held the great rough-hewn beams of "wood" together, and even the subtle grain in the wood, just as if these were beams of ancient oak, worn and shrunken by Time.
Elves did nothing by halves.
"We should go down into the mines themselves, then," Kellen said. "Unless you would rather do that tomorrow?"
"No," Vestakia said with certainty. "I would much rather go to bed tonight knowing I never had to come down here again. It is the most beautiful cave I have ever been in… but it is still a cave."
Kellen had only taken a quick tour of the lower levels the previous day, and was grateful he hadn't had to fight down here, for in contrast to the main level, most of the open areas here were about the size of his bedroom back in Sentarshadeen, if that.