Shadows

by Bill Smith 

Alyssa finally found a spare moment, and pulled Ranon into the supply shed of the Red Feather. Light shone from a single window in the opposite end of the shed, and a couple cracks in the ceiling.

Alyssa locked the door and turned to Ranon. "What are you doing here?"

"I was looking for a job," Ranon said sullenly. "I swear I wouldn't have come if I'd known you-"

"Forget it," Alyssa said. "I don't think he recognized you, with your hair changed color and all. Just try not to look nervous around him, and if he does recognize you..." Alyssa rubbed her lip thoughtfully. Then she said, "Yes! I'll make you and Bear there my bodyguards, and if Kamin ever does recognize you, Bear can help me get you out of trouble, because the last thing I want is for you to get turned in to King Borric for a reward."

"I don't think Borric would pay anyways," Ranon said. "I heard that Althorien was losing the battle, that's why all the people are-"

Someone tried the door, cursed, then walked away.

"Come on," Alyssa said. "Let's get out of here. We'll talk later tonight."

"What is that?" Daren asked.

Borric spun around to cuss out the High Priest yet again, but the High Priest was gone. And so were all the Dragon.

"Look!" Daren cried.

Borric spun around, wiping the sweat from his face. Small black shapes were pouring from the hole in the clouds, and flying toward the armies. They spread out and levelled off just above the forest to the south.

When the first ones crossed from above the trees to the battlefield, the last of them dropped from the clouds.

It was then that Borric recognized them.

They were dragons.

Lily swore as Tal tilted and jerked with the wind. Riding Tal was even more nauseating than riding a boat. When Tal suddenly changed his pitch above the trees, Lily's arms came free of Rinas's waist.

She started to slide sideways, but the saddle belt held her in place. For a precious half-second, Lily was hanging out over the trees flashing beneath her. They were just a green blur until they came over the muddy battlefield.

Then Doronar yanked her back up.

Lily sobbed something incoherent, and Doronar wrapped his arms around her waist.

They reached the Minion, and Tal dipped just enough to grab a pair of Shadows and lift them up. Lily was pushed against Doronar again as Tal angled nearly vertical, until they were flying once again towards the clouds. Then Tal tossed the Shadows back to the Minion army. Screams followed the two bodies down until they hit the ground.

Tal wheeled around and began his dive toward the Minion army again. Lily could see the hundreds of Dragon Knights swooping down and bathing the Minion in flames or ripping them apart with their claws.

"Get him to let me off!" Lily screamed, valiantly fighting her nausea.

Before they were too far into the dive, Tal swerved to the side and slowed his descent. Arraka's Temple, to their right, seemed to be burning more fiercely than the last time Lily had seen it. She actually had to squint from the glare.

They came to a stop in front of the dais, and Lily hurredly unbuckled her belt. She fell off of Tal and twisted her ankle, and Doronar dropped next to her. Tal leaped into the air again, and Doronar helped her to her feet.

"What's going on here?" someone demanded, stalking over to them.

Lily held on to Doronar's shoulders and favored her left leg as he explained the situation.

"What's happening with the clouds?" Doronar asked.

Another man, in a gray cloak, walked up to the first one. "Genwral is taking his revenge," he said.

Doronar looked at the first man and said, "What?"

"Genwral and Kra are fighting," said a nearby boy.

Then Doronar's eyes glazed over. "Oh no," he said.

Garak reached the top of the small rise and surveyed the battle. Almost all of his army had been slaughtered, and it had seemed like the Minion would overwhelm him, but these dragons had just come in out of nowhere. And they were cutting through the Minion like grass.

The dragons were attacking the fifty or sixty demons that had appeared, and they were taking a few casualties, but nowhere near as many as the humans would be.

For the first time in weeks, Garak felt hope.

The gray-cloaked man walked over to Doronar and stood in front of him. "You are the one we've been waiting for, Doronar."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Who are you?"

"I'm referring to your destiny."

"What destiny?"

Though Doronar could only see the man's green irises, he could sense that the man was impatient. But he said nothing.

When a hand touched his shoulder, Doronar spun around, startled.

The world seemed to shift a little, and a red haze covered his vision. His breath was coming in short gasps, and he felt like he was floating. As if he drank too much ale and it was just starting to affect him. At first he thought it was nervousness or adrenaline, but he reconsidered that notion when he felt his calfs begin to transform.

Something was happening to him.

"What?" Doronar demanded.

"You are here," the High Priest said. "There is no time to waste. Please come with us."

"What's going on, Doronar?" Lily asked.

"Arraka's chosen him as a vehicle," Alinor said.

Doronar looked at his hands. There was no change in physical appearance, but he could sense a subtle change beneath the skin. "What-What-"

"You will understand," the High Priest said, gesturing to a pair of the Dragon. They ushered Doronar into the perimeter of the temple, toward the pyramid.

"Tell me what's happening," Doronar said. He grunted as a wave of pain ripped down his back. More pain lanced through his arms and legs.

"Arraka needs a conveyor, and you have been chosen as Messenger and Warrior."

But I've never seen Arraka! Doronar screamed in his mind. His old objection popped up, and he wondered what he was doing in this temple.

They hurried across the grass, until they reached the steps that climbed the pyramid. As Doronar's foot touched the first step, pain shot up his leg, to his knee. "Fuck!" he started to fall, but the Dragon held him up. "What-"

"Come," the High Priest said, "you have to come to the top."

Doronar took the second step, and pain lanced up that leg. "Gods -- you-you have to be joking!"

"I will push you up if I have to," the High Priest said. "Now hurry."

"I-I haven't even-"

"Shut up and move," said one of the Dragon.

Breathing hard, Doronar took the next step, and winced with the pain. Fire crawled up his leg with each step. It seemed to take an eternity, but when he was halfway there, the fire was flowing through his whole body. Doronar was hardly using his own muscles by that point; the Dragon were holding his whole weight. He was just lifting his feet up and placing them on the steps.

Doronar's eyes were squeezed shut, and he could see little lights dancing across his vision. After another twenty steps - he had been counting them carefully - Doronar managed to open his eyes. Because of the intense pain, he fully expected to see scorched flesh hanging from his blackened bones. But he was perfectly normal. As far as he could tell; the riding suit covered most of his body.

When Doronar reached the top of the stairs, he was practically delirious from the pain, and completely unaware of time. The two Dragon helped him shuffle forward, until he was standing a few feet in front of Arraka's Flame.

Doronar was in so much pain from the flames coursing through his body now that he couldn't even feel the searing heat emanating from the Eternal Flame.

Hurredly, the High Priest began spouting out some prayer or a prophecy or something, but Doronar ignored him. He pulled free of the men holding him, and stood up straight.

Doronar knew what he had to do.

He took a deep breath, and walked past the High Priest, into the wall of flame.

Dozens winged demons appeared, and began combatting the Dragon Knights in mid-air, taking up all the Draconians' resources. The Draconians still had a mild advantage, because they were born to fly and they had been doing it all their lives. The dragons flew through the air fluidly and smoothly, and they attacked with precision. But the demons flew awkwardly, like the wings had been sewn onto their backs.

The demons did have one advantage: the dragon's fiery breath did little to harm the demons, so the Draconians had do resort to manually ripping them apart. It proved a simple task, though, since the demons were smaller than most of the dragons.

Those few dragons that tried to rip apart the demons with their jaws usually fell to the ground, choking on the demons' poisonous innards.

On the ground, the Minion's numbers had been reduced drastically by the dragons' attack. The remaining Legion and Minion now fought on equal footing while the dragons combatted the demons high above them.

Garak had found another horse and was rallying up disoriented troops and directing them at the Minion. When he was satisfied that the Legion were reorganized, he pulled his battle axe free and rode along the Minion's eastern flank, chopping off heads and arms.

One demon popped out of existence right in front of the dais, scaring the shit out of everyone. Two of the Honor Guard jumped to protect the king, but the demon whacked them aside and lunged for Borric. The king scrambled away from the demon, and it looked as though he might escape, but the demon's tail snapped out, grabbed Borric's neck, and popped his head off like a bottle cork.

Standing on top of the dragon statue's head, Alinor shot a glance down when he felt Borric's soul vanish. "Shit!" he hissed. He fired a lightning bolt through the demon's head and torso, and its smoking corpse toppled aside.

Dammit, how could he have let that happen?

Orange lightning erupted from the pyramid and shot into the sky. After the first bolt, several more exploded into the clouds, and the Eternal Flame began flickering. The High Priest and the two Dragon had just reached the base of the pyramid when Arraka's right claw reached out of the flame and planted on the steps of the pyramid. The stairs crunched beneath the claw, and many stones skittered down the side of the pyramid.

Arraka's other claw reached out and planted itself. Arraka extended his head out of the flame, and his eyelids snapped open. Blood red light shone from his eyes, pouring onto the battlefield below. Arraka crawled all the way out of the flame, and flexed his claws on the top of the pyramid. The Eternal Flame burned beneath him, licking his green scales with its orange light.

With a roar, Arraka leaped into the sky and flapped into the clouds.

As soon as he burst from the clouds, Arraka opened his mouth and blasted waves of fire at Kra. In seconds, all of Kra's summoned creatures were incinerated, and Kra was forced to break off his attacks.

Aleya gasped. "Wh-Wh-"

Arraka said, "We will rip your heart from your chest, Betrayer."

Silence reigned.

Aleya gaped at Arraka, and Kra stared at them balefully for long moments. He raised his arms, and two rivers of purple fire flew toward them.

Swearing, Aleya raised a shield to protect them both, and Arraka shot Kra with a missile of fire. Arraka's flames exploded along Kra's shield, and Arraka continued to bathe Kra's shield in fire.

Kra tried to retaliate, but with renewed strength, Aleya directed his attacks back at him. Kra attempted to deflect Arraka's fire, but he couldn't.

So he ran.

Kra flew away, and the pair followed him. He tried to teleport himself elsewhere, but Aleya anchored him to Tirn Aill. When he failed to counter her spell, he tried building another dimension around him, but Aleya prevented that spell before it even began. After many attempts to escape, Kra finally planted himself and spun to face them.

Before he could speak, one of Arraka's fire missiles slammed into his shield, throwing him backwards and cracking his shield like an egg. Kra tried to mend it, but Arraka came down on the shield with a hundred balls of fire, and it shattered. Aleya pulled her arms back, then threw both fists forward. She speared Kra in the shoulder with a bolt of light, and he dropped through the clouds. They followed him down.

Kra landed in the middle of a tundra, billowing clouds of snow everywhere.

Aleya and Arraka touched down next to him, and Aleya knelt next to the God of Destruction. Her spear of light had impaled his left shoulder. Blood covered the ground beneath him, melting the snow. The purple sheath of fire that usually enveloped Kra had dwindled to just his eye sockets.

"Your time has come, Betrayer," Aleya said in Genwral's voice. "You know that everything you do eventually comes back to you."

The snow dampened Kra's ragged breaths.

Aleya failed to notice Kra reach for the dagger on his belt, but Arraka didn't. As soon as Kra yanked it free, the Dragon God shoved her aside. Aleya rolled away, and when she looked up, she saw the blade plunge into Arraka's chest.

Arraka's right fist flashed out and slammed Kra's head a few inches into the frozen ground. With his left hand he grabbed Kra's wrist and tightened until the hand came free. More blood gushed into the snow. Arraka removed the weapon from his chest and tossed it aside. He mentally cauterized the wound.

Aleya scrambled back over and said, "Oh gods, are you all right?"

Without answering, Arraka said, "Kill him."

For a moment, Aleya looked at the wound, then she turned to Kra.

Arraka stood up behind Aleya and watched dispassionately as Aleya reached into Kra's chest as though it was liquid. Her hand grasped the god's heart, and she wrenched it out.

Silently, the god died.

Aleya looked at the black object in her hand. It hardened into an opaque gem. Kra's flames died out, and snow began blowing over the corpse.

Silence hung for several minutes, until only a few pieces of Kra's armor were visible beneath the snow. Aleya dropped the heart, and turned to Arraka. "Thank you," she said. "I'm sure he would have killed me."

Arraka nodded, then shook his head dizzily. "I think I need to go rest."

"There's a cave near here, I believe."

The oil lamp sailed across the room and shattered against the wall.

The human prisoner cringed and covered her eyes as Garen loosed a stream of expletives. Garen saw the girl cowering in the corner, and grabbed the Soulstealer from its sheath.

When she saw him getting close to her, she opened her mouth and backed away. "W-What are you doing?"

Garen ran her through.

Yellow light blossomed from her body, then spiraled into the sword.

"Fuck," Garen said. He tossed the sword onto the bed and walked to the window.

Only a little of the city's light reflected off the black haze over Mogehal, and that light was pathetic. It was possible to see maybe fifty feet during the day. Garen hated it, but the Minion were accustomed to such a dark and crappy environment. And now that Kra was gone, there was no chance he would be able to build the Gate by the time of the Black Moon.

Now that Kra was gone...

Gods. Garen turned around and put his hands on his head. What did this mean? Kra wasn't just defeated, he was dead.

Dead.

But gods couldn't die. The gods were part of the universe. When they died, a piece of the universe died with them! Impossible. Kra couldn't be dead. If Kra was dead, then Garen should be dead, if Garen's understanding of the universe was correct. Because Garen was merely an offshoot of Kra, and since Kra was dead...

Dead.

Garen fell to his hands and knees and stared at the stones beneath him. Gods, what did this mean? Kra was dead. That word echoed inside Garen's skull until he lay curled up on the floor, wondering why this had to happen to him.

Borim screamed.

Ghin spun around and saw Borim on the ground, with his arm chopped off at the elbow. A stocky orc was crouched above him. The orc jerked its blade out of the ground and raised it to finish him off.

"Dammit," Ghin said and threw his fist forward. The orc's head imploded and sprayed blood everywhere.

Borim started swearing and clutching his left arm, trying to keep the blood in. A few Minion spotted him and moved in to attack, but Ghin called in the Fairies, who jumped in and efficiently slit their throats.

Ghin grabbed Borim's detached arm and took the boy's good shoulder. Another unit of Minion was charging from the southwest, and Jonas was regrouping the nearby Legion to stand against them.

"We'd better get outta here, kid," Ghin said, turning back toward the camp. When he was facing the temple, what he saw caught him off guard.

The Althorians that had been camped around the temple, huddling in little circles, were now charging across the battlefield en masse, hollering and brandishing weapons and torches. There were so many of them that they looked like a solid wave of human bodies. A few yards in front of them was Prince Corin.

"What the fuck?" Ghin said. Then he yelled, "Yeah! It's about fuckin' time ya pansies!" To Borim he said, "Well that route is cut off. But I think magic's a little safer now that Kra is gone."

Then he teleported them into the healer's tent.

Everyone gasped at their sudden appearance, and Ghin said to one of the healers, "Can you heal him?"

The nearest healer looked at the situation and said to Borim, "Lay on the bed. Give me his arm." She knelt and put the two arms against each other, then began chanting.

Ghin walked around the tent, offering meaningless words of encouragement to the other soldiers laying in pain. Many were crippled for the rest of their lives, and would never walk or use an arm again. After seeing more than thirty soldiers in this condition, Ghin walked back to Borim's bed and waited.

Long minutes passed, and the healer sat back on her heels. "All right, it's done."

"Thank you," Ghin said.

Borim came out of the healer-induced trance and looked around the room for a moment, then waggled his fingers and touched his arm. He flopped his head back with relief. "Oh thank you," he said.

"I have a feeling that-"

"Hey!" someone yelled from the door of the tent. "Somebody help me! He's been stabbed!"

Borim jumped up from the bed and pushed past Ghin. "Aleya?" he called.

"Borim!" Aleya cried in relief, sagging under the weight of the man next to her. "Please, somebody help!"

The healer pulled herself up and ran over to them. "Doronar?" she asked.

"Please," Aleya said, letting Borim take his weight. "He's hurt."

"Shit," the healer said. "Doronar? Where did you find him?"

"We were out in the field," Aleya replied.

Borim helped set Doronar on the bed, and the healer sat next to him. "Gods, Doronar. What happened? I thought..." she broke off and put her hands on his chest.

"Aleya," Borim threw his arms around her and hugged her fiercely. "Oh gods, where have you been?"

"Later," she said. "It'll take a while to explain."

Ghin smiled and walked out of the rear entrance. He hopped up and flew a few hundred feet into the air, drawing cries from nearby soldiers. From his new vantage point, Ghin surveyed the battle. Nearly all of the Althorians had charged across the bloody battlefield, wielding their own weapons or picking up weapons from the casualties.

Now, the Althorians swarmed the remaining Minion, and were absolutely beating the shit out of them. Within the next five minutes all of the Minion would be dead. Doubtless.

The sky was calm, and snow was just beginning to drift down. Arraka's Flame had died down from its earlier blaze, and it actually looked smaller than normal. The aura of evil that surrounded the Minion and that had invaded Tirn Aill since the beginning was seeping away, and Ghin hoped that it would soon be gone.

He spotted Alinor atop one of the stone dragon heads, and flew over to him. Jonas appeared next to Alinor as soon as Ghin touched down, and Alinor said, "How do you feel?"

"I feel fine," Jonas said. "It's killing humans that bothers me, not killing Minion."

"I could kill them all day!" Ghin cried gleefully, then frowned under their stares. "Come on, guys, lighten up. We just saved Tirn Aill."

Lia materialized in front of them. For the first time in months, she looked ecstatic. Lia threw her arms around Jonas and kissed him, then threw her arms around Alinor. She looked at Ghin for a moment, then said, "Oh come here," and gave him a hug as well.

Ghin was nervous to touch her; he was afraid she'd break his neck after what he did to her. "Why are you so happy?" he asked.

"Take a guess, stupid. The Minion are gone-"

"Practically so is the Legion."

"-Kra is dead-"

"So are the Karoks."

"-and we're all alive."

"Althorien's destroyed," Ghin said.

"It'll be rebuilt," Lia shrugged.

"Yeah? By who?" Ghin asked.

Someone pounded on the door violently.

Kamin jerked up and grabbed for his knife, then stopped. "Come in," he mumbled.

Alyssa poked her head in the door. "Sorry to wake you."

"That's all right," Kamin said. "What do you want?"

"Someone just came to talk to me. Is it too late to pull out of that house contract?"

"Seeing as how we haven't signed it yet...hmm, let me think, oh, ah, eeh -- no of course not," Kamin rubbed his eye. "Why in the world do you care, at midnight, besides?"

"Because I've thought of a great business opportunity."

"Can it wait?" Kamin asked.

Alyssa nodded. "But only until tomorrow morning."

"We'll discuss it then then," Kamin curled up in his blankets.

"All right. Sorry to disturb you."

Alyssa quietly closed the door, and grinned at Ranon. "Yes!" she grinned and threw her arms around him, forgetting the fact that he had held a knife to her throat just a couple days ago.

"Ah, what?" Ranon said. He was still nervous, even though she had told him she wouldn't give him away. Not only that, but she had him under her power.

"Can you say queen?" Alyssa grinned wickedly.

"Huh?"

"Tell you what, bodyguard," Alyssa purred seductively, slipping her hands inside his jacket. Her fingers locked behind his waist. "Why don't I explain it to you in the morning?"

Garak's horse trotted over to the dais, and he saw Daren sitting on the edge, face in his hands. Near the other end of the platform, a few men were covering up a corpse. It didn't take him long to figure out what happened.

"Oh gods, Corin, how did it happen?" Garak asked.

"A demon just appeared in front of us," Daren said. He sounded calm, but a little disturbed.

Garak dismounted and knelt in front of him. "You're the king of Althoria, now," Garak said. "But I can hold the office for as long as you like. I know how hard it must be to lose your brother and your father like this."

"No," Daren said, wiping his eyes. He sat up and looked at Garak.

The general was amazed at how old the prince's eyes appeared. The kid was only fifteen, after all. Or sixteen. When was his birthday?

"No," Daren said. "I'll take the crown. We'll perform the ceremony for everyone, including my father, tomorrow. Get people to start gathering the corpses. Burn the Minion and build pyres for the Legionnaires. I'll find the priests and talk to them, and I'll hold an advisor meeting in a couple hours about where to go from here. Oh, and get you soldiers to divide the citizens into groups of one thousand each. Designate a place for them to camp, and tomorrow, an hour before dusk, I'll speak to each of them on what they want to do."

Garak removed his hand, surprised that Corin was showing such leadership in the midst of this mess. "Yes, Sire."

"So much for the mansion, huh?" Bree grinned.

Galnor stroked her hair as they stared out at the battlefield. "Yes, but we'll have enough to live comfortably, wherever we go from here."

"We didn't get all the money, did we?" Bree asked.

Galnor shook his head. "I told you this already. No, we didn't get all the money, but we got enough. We should look for Alyssa and see what she's up to. Maybe we could do something with her. Knowing Kamin, he'll convince her to make some serious investments with that money."

Balan poked his head out of the wagon. "Have either of you sickos seen Lyn? I think she's run off again."

Bree shook her head and Galnor said, "No. I bet she went to tease the Dragon again."

"What?" Balan asked.

"She would always step inside the perimeter and make them carry her back out. Then she would step in again, and they would set her outside, and she would step in…you get the idea."

Balan laughed and ducked back into the wagon.

"Our current stores of gold amount only to-" Olis cut off and pointed to the front of the dais. "I think someone wants to speak with you."

Daren looked and saw a Lienite and one of the dragon people waiting patiently. The dragon man had green scales, and looked quite formidable in his black armor and cape. "I, um, I'll be back soon, I hope," Daren said. "You can host the funeral if he eats me."

"Um, Sire Corin?" the Lienite said.

"King," Daren supplied.

"Please let me express my deepest regrets for your-"

Daren waved him on.

"Um, this is Prince-er, King Sorasa of Draconia. He led the attack on the Minion earlier. He's come to speak with you - later, of course - on a peace treaty. My friend Doronar and I have already been assigned by the Draconians as the official ambassadors, but it would be an easy matter for us to drop the position if you would prefer another to take our places."

"Do you both speak Draconian?"

The Lienite nodded.

"Do you know anyone else who does?"

The Lienite shook his head.

"Then I believe you will remain in that position," Daren said with exaggerated patience, as if he were speaking to a child. "In the meantime, what do you want?"

"King Sorasa wants to know if there's anything his people can do to help you now."

"Currently," Daren cast about and said, "your dragons seem pretty strong, perhaps you could help move and burn the Minion bodies."

The Lienite translated, and Sorasa bowed his head and said something.

"We are at your disposal," the Lienite said.

Then Sorasa walked away.

The Lienite bowed and hurried after him.

Daren turned around and saw Olrick standing by the throne. Olis was speaking with Garak, near the main tent.

"You wanted to see me?" Olrick asked.

"Took them long enough to find you," Daren walked over to Olrick. "Where have you been?"

"Well," Olrick shrugged, "after Althorien I became pretty useless. I was preparing to head back up to Midgard after this was all over."

"I want your help. When we build the new Althorien, I want you to make it defensible. You and Soleth can work together on it."

"With all due respect, Your Majesty," Olrick said. "I don't believe there's any way we could build another capital city to my specifications with the amount of money that you don't have left."

"If it's your paycheck you're worried about, your friend-"

"No, no, I mean-"

"All right," Daren held up a hand. "I know what you mean. Your friend Lady Liangelle spoke with me earlier and said that there's a very rich construction company in Arangrad who would be more than willing to aid us in the rebuilding of Althorien. And she said she would contribute to our treasury as well."

"Um, where exactly do you plan to rebuild it?"

"Why?"

"Maybe I didn't really explain this to you before, but the old city is totally demolished, along with the whole area around it. We can't build on top of the old city."

"Well we'll figure out where later, but you can help us, right?"

"How come this company is willing to help us for free?" Olrick asked.

"Not for free," Daren said. "We'll pay them what we can, and what we can't, we'll figure out later."

"That sounds a little dubious," Olrick observed.

Daren shrugged, then said, "Will you help me?"

Olrick nodded. "Of course."

Borim pulled himself up to the same branch as Aleya, and sat next to her.

The tree they sat in was taller than most of the others, and gave them a good view of the battlefield, to the north. They could see the Draconians and Althorians dragging Minion corpses to several huge bonfires throughout the field, and tossing them in. Black smoke rose from the fires, darkening the sky even further.

Snow had started floating down about a half-hour ago, and was settling on the field rather quickly. To keep warm, the Dragon were bringing blankets, jackets, and cloaks out to the Althorians. And they were building fires to keep everyone warm.

Borim looked into Aleya's eyes, at the reflection of Arraka's Flame, and said, "What happened up there?"

Aleya leaned her head against Borim's chest and said, "We killed Kra."

"Who's we?"

"Me and Arraka."

Borim put his arm around her shoulders and held her tight. "You're a goddess now?"

Aleya shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think so."

"Then how come you-"

"Borim?"

"Yes?"

"Leave it alone for now. I haven't slept in a week, and I'm really tired."

"A week?"

Aleya's eyelids were practically closed as she mumbled, "Yes."

"What are we going to do now?"

Aleya snuggled up against him more. "Let's go somewhere and live."

Borim smiled. "Where?"

"I dunno. Maybe the..." then she broke off into murmurs.

Borim looked down at her. She was asleep.

He kissed her hair and thanked the gods that he still had her.

Ranon crawled out from the blankets and picked up his pants. As he pulled them on, he stood up and looked around for the rest of his clothes.

Dull light leaked through the closed curtains. The wooden walls and dark carpet absorbed most of the light, and what was left over illuminated the room just enough for Ranon to make out his sword, on the table.

He walked over to the table and found his shirt draped over a chair. As he pulled it over his head, Alyssa's voice came from the bed, "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere," Ranon replied. "I'm just getting dressed." He turned back to face her.

She was sitting cross-legged on top of the covers, wearing nothing.

"Aren't you cold?" he asked.

Alyssa shook her head. "I used to walk around naked all the time."

"Back at the Red Feather in Althorien?"

She nodded.

Ranon pulled on his socks and jacket. "What were you talking about last night?"

"When?" Alyssa asked.

"When you said 'queen'."

"Oh," Alyssa scratched her ear, then hopped off the bed. She swayed as a sudden wave of dizziness hit her. Ranon made no move to help her.

Probably from the brandy they'd drunk last night.

Alyssa pulled on her shirt, and Ranon grudgingly admitted that he was disappointed. She had a damn beautiful body. "I control a bank account with more money than you'll see in your lifetime, and I aim to use it to help rebuild Althorien."

"Oh. I still don't understand how-"

Alyssa held up her hand. "I haven't decided exactly how I'm going to do it yet, and I apologize beforehand."

"For what?"

"It'll probably hurt you and your friends in some way. I may blackmail you and Alleria, to get some control over the future throne of Althoria."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, you got her pregnant, and-"

Ranon's hand shot out and grabbed her throat. Before Alyssa had time to make any noise, she was sprawled across the table, Ranon's knife pressed against her throat. "How the fuck did you know that?"

For a moment, Alyssa's eyes were filled with fear, but she regained her composure and swallowed, "Jafrin spied on you guys the other night."

"Who?"

"The mage. My mentor. He found you guys at that flophouse and saw her-"

"I told you to tell them we'd left the city," Ranon said, his hand tightening dangerously around her throat.

"He saw right through me," Alyssa said, trying to pry his fingers away. It did no good. "I told him what happened, because I know he's reasonable. He saw you guys and saw Alleria's stomach. The rest was conjecture, I didn't really know she was pregnant from you until you threw me onto the table."

Ranon let go of her and threw his knife into the door. "Fuck," he swore, pushing his hair back.

Rubbing her neck, Alyssa sat up and said, "I didn't think it was you, honest. I thought someone else had done it, and you would just tell me who it was."

"Bitch!" Ranon snarled. "How do you know I won't kill you before you can-"

"Because you're not a killer," Alyssa said. "You won't kill me. Especially not after you fucked me. That's the last thing you'd want on your conscience."

She didn't sound so sure of herself, but she was right. Ranon wouldn't kill her. He looked at her for a few moments, then yanked his knife out of the door.

"But it's not bad, really," Alyssa said. "All I plan on doing is funding part of the reconstruction of Althorien. In return, you will grant me property rights, royalty status, special privileges in-"

"Me?"

"Alleria."

"Why her?"

"Because she's the new queen of Althoria."

"Borric's dead? How do you know?"

"Someone came and talked to me last night. I know a lot about the war."

"Like what?"

"Enough to know that we'll all be secured a nice future after Althorien is rebuilt. You needn't worry about being crapped on by Borric or anybody else. We'll protect you."

Ranon gazed into Alyssa's black eyes for nearly a minute, then said, "I hope you know what you're doing."

Alyssa smiled sweetly. "Of course I do."

Gwen closed the door and hurried over to Alleria. The room wasn't very large; it was smaller than Gwen's closet back in Brath, but it sufficed for their purposes. This room was the cheapest in the inn, and it was soaking up all of Gwen's salary just to rent it.

She had to sneak food into her mouth as she carried plates of heaping food to fat patrons, and she had to smuggle food up to Alleria, so that the princess could survive. Gwen knelt to the side of the bed, glancing at Alleria's slightly swollen belly. Neither of them had eaten well for the past several weeks, so they were both concerned about the baby's health.

"Alleria," Gwen whispered.

The other girl's eyes fluttered open, and she struggled into a sitting position. "What time is it?"

"Not time yet," Gwen said. "I still have two more hours, but I got to sneak out. Here's some bread," she dumped a few rolls onto the blankets, and set a mug of water on the nightstand.

"Any word from Ranon?" Gwen asked, standing up and brushing off her skirt.

"Not yet," Alleria said. "I don't know where he could be. He said he would be back by tonight with more money, but-"

"I'm here," Ranon said from the doorway.

Both girls gasped in surprise.

"Ranon!" Gwen said.

"Where have you been?" Alleria snapped. "I'm-" She stopped when another girl walked into the room. It was the one from the alley. "What's she doing here?"

Gwen stalked forward threateningly, but halted.

Behind Ranon was the largest man she had ever seen. He stood over six feet tall, with a massive build. A brown beard covered his face, except for a nasty scar that crossed his cheek. The man smiled, and Gwen took a step back.

"This is Alyssa and Bear," Ranon said. "They're going to help us."

Doronar's eyes fluttered open.

Lily was looking down at him.

"Lily?" Doronar croaked. "Wh-What happened?"

"You tell me," Lily said. "Don't you remember anything?"

Doronar searched his memory, but nothing came up. In fact, nothing came up for the past twelve hours. The last thing he remembered was landing on the remains of Althorien. After that, there were jumbled images, sounds, and sensations. The most prominent was fire.

And pain.

Doronar explained it to Lily, and she sighed. "Gods," she said, laying her head on his shoulder. "You had me so worried there for a while."

"When is it?"

"It's almost dawn, I believe," Lily said, looking outside. Snow had built up to a few inches outside the tent.

Doronar tried to move, but pain exploded through his chest. He lay back, gasping.

"Don't move," Lily said quickly. "You've been stabbed. Your lung was punctured and there was some hemorrhaging, but I cleared the blood and did my best to heal your wound. The wound is terrible. It's magically infected, I'm positive. I've made a little progress, but it'll take time to heal completely."

"How much?"

"A long time. But it will give me an excuse to elude Sorasa's marriage proposal. And," she grinned, "it'll give me an excuse to be around you more."

Bolthorn grunted as he dumped the orc's body into the fire. It crackled and popped, then more smoke began issuing from the corpse. In a moment, the body was engulfed, and blood was boiling from the eye sockets.

When Bolthorn turned from the disgusting sight, he saw Lia waiting for him. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she was dressed in an archer's uniform. Dirt streaked across her face and one of her ears was bleeding.

But she looked more beautiful than she had in weeks. The dark circles beneath her eyes had disappeared, and the stress she'd been carrying was no longer visible.

"Hello, Lia," Bolthorn said.

"We need to talk," she said. She sounded serious.

Lia led him away from the body depositions, and they headed east, toward the forest. When they were a few hundred feet away from the other humans, she said, "I honestly believe there was a reason you were given Krenash, Bolthorn, but my father and I have a set of rules laid down for Tirn Aill. If you are to keep the sword, you'll have to follow them."

"Huh? Rules? What rules?"

"There's a hierarchy of power in the universe, Bolthorn, and my father and I, and many others throughout Existence, try to keep that balance of power from being disrupted."

"And I'm disrupting it?"

"If you keep that sword, then the balance will eventually become disrupted, yes."

"You want me to give it back to you?"

"If you don't give it back, then you'll have to abide by our creed."

"What creed?"

"Essentially, you will use the power to keep balance in Tirn Aill."

"Balance?"

Lia nodded. "It's one of the most fundamental principles in the universe, Bolthorn. Whenever the balance is disrupted, things go wrong. That's all we do here, is keep the balance."

"With the Minion, you mean?"

Lia nodded again.

"But by attacking the Minion yourself, you upset the natural course-"

"Don't get into a philosophical debate with me, Bolthorn. You're 21 years old, and I'm thousands. I've had a long time to think about this. We prevented evil from tipping the balance too far in their favor, and that's it. Now, you may choose to abide by our creed, or not. If you don't, then you'll have to give us the sword and go back to being a mercenary."

"If I do?"

"Then I'll explain things to you, and we'll stick together for the next several centuries to make sure you don't deviate."

Bolthorn raised his eyebrows. "Centuries?"

"I have no doubt that Krenash will keep you alive that long."

Bolthorn was silent for a moment, then said, "Will I be separated from the rest of mankind?"

"To a small degree. We'll be your only friends that don't die, and you're emotions will play havoc with you for the rest of your life. It can be awful, at times."

Bolthorn stopped and considered what she was saying. Or tried to. He knew that he wouldn't grasp all the implications of what she was saying until he thought about it for a while.

But he was impulsive.

"All right."

"All right what?" Lia asked.

"I'll do it. Tell me your creed."

Lia's mouth twitched.

Bolthorn couldn't tell if she was happy or not, but she didn't jump for joy.

Finally she smiled and said, "I'll tell you the creed later. Right now I know a perfect secluded little island where we can stay for a while. I feel like a vacation right now, howabout you?"

Bolthorn looked at his hands, which were covered in dirt and blood, and said, "I suppose so."

Lia wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Before she broke the kiss, they were on the island.

Daren wearily looked at the assembled advisors. Borena had died a few hours ago from a demon attack - no great loss - but everyone else was still breathing.

The advisors had just sworn their allegiance to him a few minutes ago. Rather, to King Corin.

It had been Daren's lifelong dream to become king, mainly because he knew he could do it. Borric had been an adequate ruler, but nothing more. No one who stood out in the history books. He had little leadership ability, and was simply a politician. Daren hated politicians.

Daren knew he could rule effectively, but not as Corin. Not as his dead brother, who probably would have rightfully inherited the throne. Not as the dead brother he had murdered.

Since Corin's death, Daren had been plagued with many waking nightmares. The only part he remembered from the dreams was waking up to find his hands covered in blood. Sometimes a minute would pass before the hallucinations vanished.

"Your Majesty?" Tolir said.

Daren jerked out of his reverie and looked at the advisors. They were waiting on him expectantly. "Uh, sorry," he said. Daren stood up at the end of the table and cleared his throat. "I know this has been an extremely difficult war for all of us, but it's now over. We've paid a large price, though. My father's died, we no longer have a capital city, and our army is practically nonexistent. Anybody who decides to could just march into Althoria and conquer us. We have no money, and neither do any of our citizens.

"Our only goal now is to survive the remainder of the winter, and come out alive. In order to do that, we need everyone's cooperation, and we need to make the Althorians think we are as strong as we used to be. By the time I end my rule, I want Althoria to be the same country she was before this war. It will be a struggle, but I know we can do it."

As Daren sat down, he swore to himself. That speech sounded just like a politician's. Oh well.

Like father like son.

Alinor dissolved his listening spell from Daren's table, and said, "He'll make a better king than Borric did."

"But what about Alleria?" Jonas asked. "She's the real heir."

Alinor shrugged. "I assume she will return. I haven't checked on them in a while. These first few months are some of the most critical, though, and I'll bet Daren will do nicely until she returns."

"Don't you think there'll be upheaval or anything?" Jonas asked. "She just waltzes in from-"

"Alleria will be a lot more mature when she returns. I'll wager both of them will handle it civilly. They both know that the fate of Althoria hangs precariously. If either of them screw up, we can bet that Althoria will crumble."

"Outside political influences?"

"You mean Alyssa?" Alinor rubbed his chin. "If she works it right, she'll probably have a lot of power in the new Althoria. She may even become part of the royal family. Her kin, anyway."

"Think Draconia will have any influence?"

"They'll probably contribute to Althoria's survival, yes," Alinor said.

Manjinar appeared next to them. "You know that Garen is still alive."

"Will he try anything?" Jonas asked.

"Of course," Manjinar said.

Alinor turned his gaze to the west, and looked through the sheets of white snow. It was impossible to see more than a few hundred feet, but Alinor knew that Garen was out there.

Waiting for his time.

"Well," Alinor said, "nothing ever ends."

©1997 by Bill Smith (micro@oz.net)

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