The Gossamer Plain (17 page)

“Bastard!” she screamed.

The alu raised her hand, pointing at him. She uttered the words of a common spell, conjuring a trio of magical glowing darts that shot from the tip of her finger. The darts streaked directly at Tauran, but they vanished as they struck him. The angel didn’t flinch.

“You can rot in the Abyss!” she screamed, furious at feeling so inept.

She spun away and ran toward the balcony. She charged through the opening and launched herself up in the air. Her wings spread wide, Aliisza took flight, soaring up into the heavens, which were filled with billowing puffy clouds glowing orange in the late afternoon sun. She pumped her wings rhythmically, gaining altitude, putting distance between herself and her tormentor as fast as she could.

As before, there was no ground, only an endless expanse of clouds. She kept the Court, resting atop its flattened

mountain, behind her, setting a course directly away from it.

I did it, she thought. I slipped away before they could imprison me, before they could separate me from my child.

The alu wondered if she could escape the plane entirely. She had no idea how, and she wondered how long it would be before Tauran sent pursuit after her. She didn’t care. She was free, at least for the moment, and she would never let them take her captive again.

She glanced over her shoulder and nearly stopped flying in dismay. The great structures of the Court were still there, no farther away than they had been. Somehow, she had failed to put distance between herself and the mountaintop.

She snarled and went into a dive, plummeting into the cloud cover, which stretched away in every direction as far as her eye could see, like an endless gossamer plain. Deeper and deeper she went.

Aliisza pulled up and hovered for a moment, listening.

There was no sound. She could see nothing except the gray glow of the cloud all around her. The coolness of the moisture chilled her skin, made her shiver. Slowly, she began to descend again, under control this time, swooping at a gradual rate.

The clouds did not end.

Frustrated, Aliisza began to climb. Almost immediately, she popped through the top of the billowing haze into open air. She had not traveled far at all.

No escape, the half-fiend realized in a panic. Trapped here forever. No!

Aliisza launched herself upward, folding and unfolding her wings for all she was worth, climbing higher and higher, soaring as far above the glistening stone of the Court as she could. Still she climbed, afraid to look down, knowing what she’d see as soon as she did.

The air grew thin and much colder, and the sky began to deepen. The first stars appeared overhead, and Aliisza chose one, began to fly toward it, still climbing, flying. Anything to get away from the accursed palace of Tyr.

When she looked down, the island was still there, though it had become somewhat smaller. But Aliisza knew she couldn’t escape it. In despair, she cried out, screamed. Her voice spread out into the ethereal nothingness that seemed to surround the cruel imitation of the Court, diminishing quickly.

The alu felt utterly alone.

With a sob, she folded her wings upon her back and let herself plummet. She would rather die than remain trapped in such an insidious, horrible place.

Myshik stood in a cool foyer. The half-dragon blinked, adjusting to the sudden shift in surroundings. His father, Roraurim, had explained to him the gift Uncle Nahaunglaroth had bestowed upon the cambion, but to witness it firsthand was stunning. Even standing within it, the warrior had difficulty accepting what he saw.

Slabs of polished onyx striated with deep red, almost purplish veins made up the floor. Columns of deep red stone rose to support a second-floor balcony. Torches burned at intervals upon the columns and the walls, set in black iron sconces and giving the chamber a warm, inviting glow. Several plush carpets woven in intricate patterns lay in various places upon the tiles. Tapestries and sculpted artwork adorned the walls and corners of the room. Several other doorways led deeper into the interior, and twin spiral staircases ascended to the balcony along either side of the rear wall.

Zasian stood in the center of the room, looking around

with a smile upon his face. The half-dragon could see why.

Two rows of servants, all beautiful human women with lustrous black hair and emerald green eyes, stood in lines facing the front entrance, smiling. Each had a unique appearance, and all wore gauzy dresses that revealed more than they hid.

“How is this place possible?” Myshik asked, his tone breathy with awe and excitement.

“Pocket dimension,” the priest explained, strolling to a wall and studying a tapestry more closely. “Something of a magical mansion, actually,” Zasian added. “All of this shapes and forms itself around the cambion’s whims. Whatever he imagines comes to be. Quite the clever little sanctuary, don’t you think?”

“Indeed,” Myshik admitted. “Is it safe? Can we get back out again?”

Zasian shrugged. “Safe enough,” he said. “Certainly more hospitable than out there, but if you fear being trapped, then by all means, step back through,” he added, gesturing behind the half-dragon toward the entrance.

Myshik turned and stared back the way he had come. The shimmering curtain still rippled there like a pool of water, only vertical. As he watched, Vhok appeared, stepping through the wavering surface.

“Welcome to my humble home-away-from-home,” Vhok said as he gestured at the doorway. The shimmer vanished, leaving a stone wall in its place. The cambion moved toward one of the staircases leading to the second floor. “It ought to ease some of the stresses of our journey considerably.” He began to climb the stairs. As he did so, he issued a series of orders to the magical servants, sending dark-haired beauties scurrying to tend to various tasks. Vhok instructed some of them to begin preparing a hearty meal, while others were to serve the three of them as personal attendants.

Three of the women moved to accompany Myshik, who stood before the blank wall where the magical doorway had been, testing it. It was solid from edge to edge.

“We’re quite safe in here,” Vhok said from the balcony, casting a last look down at his two guests. “I’ve closed it to keep other things from wandering in. We’ll open it in the morning.”

Myshik nodded and turned to face the cambion.

“I need a good soak and an intense massage, and I imagine you’ll find some tasks for your attendants, too,” Vhok said with a lascivious smile. Then the cambion turned away, stepped through the double doors at the top of the stairs, and disappeared as the twin portals closed, his attendants in tow.

Myshik cast a glance at Zasian. “Where?” he asked. “Which rooms are which?”

The priest shrugged, still grinning, then turned to one of the maidens gathered close to him. “Which room is mine?” he asked the woman.

The attendant never stopped smiling, nor did she answer. She simply kept her gaze on the human, as though expecting something.

“Oh, wait,” Zasian said, snapping his fingers. “I’ve got it.” He looked directly at the attendant. “Show me to my chambers,” he instructed. Immediately, the woman turned and led the way toward a door off the foyer, opening it and beckoning gracefully. Zasian nodded. “You have to frame everything in the form of a command. They’re magical servants, can’t speak. But they’ll do anything you tell them. Enjoy!” he chortled, then vanished into his quarters.

Left alone with his trio of handmaidens, Myshik considered for a moment, then issued a command for them to show him his chambers. Once inside, he peered around. The

room was decorated in a fashion similar to the foyer outside, with the same polished marble and granite. Tapestries and rugs covered most surfaces, and lamps gave off a warm glow. A magnificent bed sprawled against one wall, covered with fine-spun white linen, and a pool filled with steaming water occupied a corner. A writing desk stood nearby, a set of bookcases next to it.

Myshik glanced at the women who accompanied him. “Assume a form more pleasing to me,” he instructed, and smiled as the servants shimmered and transformed before him into three gorgeous half-draconic humanoids.

Myshik became conscious of an odd sound. A tiny bell tinkled somewhere in the chamber. The half-dragon had been dozing upon the bed of his guest quarters, having sent the trio of servants away. The bell invaded his dreams, startled him. He sat upright, feeling for a dagger he had slipped beneath one of the many pillows.

The draconic hobgoblin peered around the room, hunting the source of the sound. He spied the bell, hovering in midair above the writing desk. Myshik rose and approached it cautiously. The bell’s ring was a sweet, delicate sound. The half-dragon reached out to grasp the handle.

The instant his hand made contact, the ringing stopped and the bell vanished. Kaanyr Vhok’s disembodied head hovered in its place.

Myshik frowned and brandished the dagger. What is this sorcery?

“Oh, did I wake you?” the cambion asked, smiling. “I am truly sorry. Would you care to join us for dinner? It’s about to be served.”

Myshik lowered the dagger. “An odd way to send an invitation,” he commented.

“Quite,” the cambion replied. “But I love parlor tricks like that. So, are you ready to dine? It all smells delicious.”

“I am,” Myshik said. “Where?”

“Ah, not to worry, Blood of Morueme,” Vhok said. “I will send a girl to fetch you.”

Vhok’s face vanished and Myshik sensed that he was no longer alone in the room. He turned to find one of the magical servants standing near the doorway. She waited, a faint smile on her face.

Myshik took a moment to refresh himself and dress, then commanded the servant to lead the way. When he emerged from his rooms and followed his escort to the dining room, the savory scents of roasted meats, seasoned vegetables, and fresh, hot bread hit him. His mouth began to water. The handmaiden guided him through the doorway beneath the balcony where the stairs met overhead. Beyond that portal, Myshik discovered a large, cloth-covered table surrounded by high-backed chairs. Zasian and Vhok had already set into the food, which was heaped high and steaming upon platters.

More food was laid out than a dozen people could finish, but that didn’t stop the three travelers from trying. Myshik particularly enjoyed the braised pork loin with mustard sauce and the goose liver pate smeared liberally on thick slabs of crusty bread. A handmaiden stood nearby and kept the three diners’ mugs filled with dark ale.

After sampling the varied fare, the trio slumped in their chairs while the magical servants cleared the dishes away and brought a new onslaught of platters and bowls filled with every kind of dessert. Puddings and fresh fruit soaking in clotted cream mingled with delicacies made of spun sugar and hard sauces. Iced wine with fruit juice accompanied the treats.

When the three could eat no more, the platters were cleared. Vhok ordered a servant to remove the tablecloth, revealing dark, polished wood beneath. The cambion waved his hand over the surface of the table and uttered a phrase. The image of a large, detailed map formed there, glowing softly. Myshik gasped in delight, then he and Zasian leaned close to peer at the chart, which had been rendered in delicate lines.

Some of the features seemed familiar to the half-dragon. Mountains and lakes, flat plains and cities all appeared in abundance. Other things looked odd and out of place, or were missing altogether. Myshik saw what appeared to be geysers marked on the map, but he saw no forests. The half-dragon found the text indecipherable.

“We arrived here,” Vhok said, pointing to a chain of mountains running along the left side of the drawing. “The City of Brass is here.” The cambion slid his finger to a spot near the center. “Kurkle told us in the beginning it would take five days to get there if we remained on land the whole time. But that means going around this,” and he pointed to what looked like a small sea inlet jutting down from the top of the map. “The Infernals. We can reduce our time by a day, possible a day and a half, if we gain passage across it, but the going is much more dangerous.”

“What manner of boat can remain afloat without going up in flames and sinking in the fires?” Myshik asked, fascinated.

“The kind that is protected by the same magic as that in the ring I loaned you,” Vhok replied, tapping the gem-studded jewelry on the half-dragon’s hand. “Most of the trading vessels stay close to shore. Convincing one to head straight across may be difficult.”

“Or expensive,” Zasian said.

“But perhaps necessary,” Vhok said, then turned to the priest. “Or not. Is there a reason to hurry?” he asked. “Should

we consider the quicker route, though it may prove more deadly?”

Zasian frowned in thought. “Hard to say. Time flows differently in different places in the cosmos, and there is a certain element of vagueness to our plan that makes it difficult to determine how quickly Aliisza will be in position. I could attempt some divinations tonight before retiring, if you like. Answers may be forthcoming on the wisest route to take based on our assumptions about what is happening in the House of the Triad. Though I cannot guarantee that the choice we divine eliminates unforeseeable complications.”

Vhok nodded. “Yes, delve into it tonight and let us converse again at breakfast.”

Afterward, the three spent a while in discussion of various topics of interest. Before long, the cambion suggested that they retire and gain sufficient rest, as he knew their travels the next day would be arduous. Myshik returned to his quarters accompanied by his three attendants and was soon asleep, thoroughly sated from his evening meal.

The next morning, the trio gathered at breakfast. The meal was just as sumptuous and extravagant as the previous evening. Myshik gorged himself as much for the delicious tastes as to make certain he would feel healthy and energized for the day’s trek.

As they ate, Zasian revealed what he had learned the night before from his divinations. “It was a bit troubling,” he said between mouthfuls of poached eggs bathed in a creamy cheese sauce. “The auguries I conducted hinted that time was of the essence, but it all felt somehow… wrong.”