Stardeep

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Stardeep, Throat

As Delphe blinked away the afterglow of the cerulean flash, half a dozen figures dropped out of the fading light.

Most of the intruders collapsed prone onto the hard floor of the Throat. Two retained their feet. Delphe recognized both. One was Telarian. The other, slim hipped and broad shouldered, was Kiril. Each bore a dire weapon, and each seemed eager to engage the other.

"Delphe," rang Cynosure's gravelly voice. "Containment breach in progress! Deploying physical safeguard."

The stone and crystal statue poised above the Well, unmoving in all the time Delphe had served Stardeep as a Keeper, suddenly fell free, plunging from the ceiling like a dropped anchor, flashing past the lip, its arms outstretched and its eyes trailing the light of Cynosure's focused consciousness.

From deep in the Well boiled a fount of racing purple fire. A sure sign the containment layer had collapsed, or was on the verge of doing so. The falling construct and rising plane of fire met in an explosion of white light.

Delphe leaped from her control chair, one hand grasping her Cerulean Sign, the other already essaying gestures that opened hidden arcane geometries. With a sick feeling clawing at her gut, she dropped a slab of invisible force flat across the lip of the Well, hoping it would buy Cynosure time to stem the breach below while she dealt with the situation above. How had Telarian and so many others penetrated Stardeep's very heart? Obviously, it was some sort of back door set up by Telarian-one more betrayal of his trust. However, this was not the time to contemplate failed security.

She returned her attention to the interlopers. Of the six or so intruders, many were Knights caught up in the transfer. Some few of these were groaning and blinking, beginning to rise.

"Oh, by the Sign," breathed Delphe as her eyes tracked back to Kiril, Angul blazing in her fists, and across from her Telarian, Nis darkening the chamber with only his presence. Kiril yelled a challenge; Telarian sneered. They were going to fight! In all Stardeep's history, had two Keepers ever come to blows?

Telarian and Kiril crossed swords.

The explosion of noise and light that followed knocked both wielders to the floor with the insensate Knights. Upon touching, the blades recognized the missing portions of the other. They merged, creating a new entity: a union of the soul-forged swords Angul and Nis. The new-minted weapon pulsed with fell energy, far outstripping its shape and mortal origins.

The Keeper of the Outer Bastion regained his feet. Next to him, Kiril raised herself to her knees. When her eyes found the linked weapons, she ceased all action except to stare at Angul-Nis as if entranced. Telarian moved past her, paying the swordswoman not the least bit of concern. Kiril's hands remained passively at her sides-she made no move to stop the diviner.

Delphe called out, "No!" as Telarian grasped for Angul-Nis's hilt.

A winged creature the size of a small dog dived at Telarian from somewhere behind Delphe's left shoulder. It must have arrived in the Throat with Kiril, Telarian, and the Knights. It screeched a strangely musical call and raked Telarian's hands with crystalline claws. The diviner snatched his hands back from the hilt. The tiny opalescent dragon took the opportunity to scratch at Telarian's eyes. He fell back from the hovering dragonet and the dangling blade, swatting and cursing.

The crystal beast belled a tiny cry of triumph as it stooped on the retreating diviner again. Then a thread of black flame extended from Angul-Nis, wavering and winding through the air like a worm in its hole. The dragonet didn't see the thread, so intent was it on Telarian. When the thread touched the tiny flying creature's shoulder, the dragonet squawked, then clattered to the ground, trailing dark smoke as it rolled.

The diviner laughed and advanced once more to stand before the free-hanging sword. Unimpeded, Telarian gripped Angul-Nis's hilt.

His eyes dissolved in night and his hair stood on end, each shaft seeming to project black-tinged fire. Telarian raised Angul-Nis above his head in a gesture of triumph. He began to laugh.

Delphe launched a silver mote trailing white sparks at the diviner, an enchantment of bone-binding. Telarian turned, still laughing, and deflected the spell right back at her on the flat of his blade!

She thrust her Sign amulet forward, intercepting the turned spell in a burst of crimson sparks. She blinked away the afterglow in time to see the diviner charging across the twenty paces that separated them.

Delphe screamed, still holding forth her Cerulean Sign, hoping to ward the diviner away with its potent symbology. If he was the Traitor's cat's-paw, the Sign should-

Telarian swept Angul-Nis through her hand. Color leached suddenly from the world as Delphe saw three fingers and half the Sign spin away from her palm.

Dawning shock replaced her strength, and she fell. Telarian chuckled and moved toward the lip of the Well, holding Angul-Nis high. Delphe tried to chant a spell, call on Cynosure to engage Telarian, or beseech one of the reeling Knights for aid. Desire collapsed to reality, and instead she clutched desperately at her maimed hand with the other, attempting to apply a tourniquet before her life bled out completely. Just a pace away, the light in her severed amulet dimmed and flickered out.

Telarian began to hack at the slab of force choking the Well, his laughter mounting in manic peals.

When she'd last seen Nangulis, tears rendered the world blurry and uncertain. As she perceived the human form stepping forward, as if out of the shadow of the conjoined blades, tears spilled anew from her wondering eyes, painting her surroundings in foggy striations of white, black, and red. Flashes of apocalyptic light, screams of pain, and a diabolical mirth echoing through the Throat faded from Kiril's perception. The concerns of the corporeal world were gone. She saw only the man to whom she'd once pledged her undying love. He who had just emerged from the conjoined sword.

Did she dream?

The figure turned his head and stammered, "Kiril, is that you? Where are we? I can't remember. ."

Though her lips didn't move, she replied, joyfully, "Yes! I am here! Waiting for you. I've always waited for you. But after your sacrifice. ." After his sacrifice, she'd known he was lost forever, a knowledge she drowned in alcohol. A knowledge which was now proved a lie!

Nangulis moved to her. He kneeled and took her hands in his. They were warm and vibrant. He asked, "What sacrifice?"

She squeezed, desperately returning the pressure of his grip. "Does it matter? You've returned to me, against all hope! Your sundered soul has finally been merged. ." She frowned, briefly recalling the conjoined sword Angul-Nis. Why had Telarian gone to such elaborate trouble to bring the blades together? She doubted he wished merely to liberate Nangulis from the fractured pieces as a gift to her. . she willfully pushed those thoughts away.

"My soul?" questioned Nangulis. "I recall pain, then nothing. I remember. . coming to Stardeep. Yes! You were so beautiful in the starshine, so happy. We took up our duties. We served the Sign. ."

"Remember how we used to laugh each night, after our duties, when we talked about the events of the day together?" asked Kiril, a blushing joy growing in her that she hadn't experienced in more than a decade. She was tempted to forget all else and drown within the moment. Nangulis was returned to her!

"How could I forget?" responded Nangulis. "You were my Bright Star, and I your Far Traveler." Tears streaked Kiril's cheeks as Nangulis recalled the pet names they'd used. They'd given each other the appellations after two lovelorn characters described in Sild?yuir myth. The story recounted the unbreakable bonds between two elder elves parted by events and even centuries, but who found a way to return to each other in the end. Two constellations in Sild?yuir's sky were called by the same names.

Kiril spoke, "You are my Far Traveler yet, Nangulis. You've come farther than I ever imagined-you've come back from death itself to find me."

Nangulis released one of her hands to wipe away another streaking tear from her cheek. "Don't cry, Bright Star."

"I cry because I am happy," she explained.

"As am I. . yet my recollection is blurred. You spoke of sacrifice and death. ." He shook his head, confusion evident in his expression.

"Let us not speak of such dark things," urged Kiril. She had eyes only for the man before her. All around them, shapes moved, staggered, fought, and perhaps died. She ignored them as best she was able. Nangulis deserved her wholehearted attention.

Raidon Kane opened his eyes on chaos. He lay in a mirrored, many-walled chamber. Lying atop him was a faintly groaning Knight. He pushed the figure off and stood. He saw first Kiril, kneeling and apparently lost in some fell enchantment, for she seemed unconcerned that not ten paces from her, the Keeper Telarian wielded a blade of fire and darkness. With it he hacked at some invisible shape that overlay a central pit illuminated from beneath. His mother's forget-me-not, still clutched in Raidon's hand, twitched as if pained with Telarian's every blow.

He had triggered a transfer, but what had happened since?

He started toward Kiril, intending to shake her out of her odd daze. Running, his gaze took in another star elf female he didn't recognize. Was this Delphe, the betrayer Kiril and Telarian had spoken with? She lay on the floor not far from Telarian, clutching one mutilated hand with the other. Had the mad Keeper been dispatched so easily? Raidon's intuition was confused. His attention had been so focused on using his forget-me-not to effect a transfer into the Throat that he hadn't paid heed to Kiril and Delphe's conversation in the tunnel.

Telarian's unrestrained laughter and wild swings with a weapon whose every slash made Raidon's skin prickle was. . worrisome. Had this Keeper also fallen to the Traitor's control?

He took another step and something stirred at his feet. He recoiled before he recognized the supine, smoking shape of Xet. The dragonet rotated its head to fix him with an entreating glance. Its mouth moved, and a single plaintive tone emerged.

Raidon reached down and stroked the creature's muzzle. Then he picked up the tiny thing. He carried Xet and set it down before the kneeling swordswoman. In Sild?yuir, the monk recalled how Kiril had revealed a strong affection for Xet-perhaps seeing it would snap her from her trance.

"Kiril, wake and see me," urged Raidon. "What transpired here? Should I oppose the remaining Keeper?"

A moment of quiet drew the monk's attention to the lip of the Well. The diviner stepped back just as something burst up from the cavity, dissolving whatever invisible cap Telarian had been working to destroy.

The figure emerged as if a ballista bolt, grazing the ceiling at the top of its arc. It came down hard on bent legs where Telarian had just stood. The entire floor shuddered under the impact. It was a statue, akin to those they'd seen in the tunnels, but larger, and splashed with ichor and gore, as if the construct were fresh from battle.

Telarian addressed the construct. "Cynosure, your time as Stardeep's warden is complete. Loose the bonds, so I can eradicate the Traitor."

A voice replied, coming not from the statue but from somewhere high on the ceiling. "Telarian, you've fallen to insanity. Killing him will conclude his Final Pact of Apoapsis-a passage will be opened to the Abolethic Sovereignty! Xxiphu would rise!"

"Yes! It is destined to rise-the future is set!" screamed Telarian, nearly spitting with hysteria. "Unless I divert it here and now!"

If Raidon held any question whether Telarian had succumbed to lunacy, he had his answer.

"The future is ever changeable-each new day is a chance to alter fate. Don't mistake your false visions for reality," counseled Cynosure.

"To prevent atrocity, I must commit it," replied the diviner nonsensically. "You, more than anyone, must understand, Cynosure, you who helped me construct the Epoch Chamber. I do understand destiny can be altered-and since it was given to me and me alone to see so far into the future, fate is mine to shape! When a passage to Xxiphu forms over the Traitor's corpse, I shall travel it, ahead of the Traitor's spirit. With Angul-Nis in hand, I shall slay the Eldest, Xxiphu's sentinel who sits on all the abolethic city as if a throne!"

The construct shook its head. "You are deluded, Telarian-even if the combined power of Angul and Nis could slay the Eldest before he consumed you, the city would wake from the violence of your act. It would rise! What fell visions have so deceived you?"

The diviner sputtered then screamed, "I am the only one who can safeguard Sild?yuir, nay, all Faer?n, from the Sovereignty's return from its millennial sleep! I am not deceived, I am the lone true prophet of tomorrow!"

"No, Telarian. Your predictions are corrupted, likely by the Traitor himself, whose apocalyptic dreams insinuate every chamber of Stardeep. Even your Epoch Chamber. How can you be sure it was not the Traitor's aim that Nis be forged, not your own? How can you be sure that your current plan isn't the Traitor's plot, now guided by the nihilistic Blade Umbral?"

Raidon tried once more to rouse Kiril. The swordswoman remained absorbed in a private vision. He turned and prepared himself to charge the distracted diviner. Even as he did so, Telarian's head jerked to fix him with a rabid gaze, saying, "Angul-Nis sees you," before turning back to regard the construct.

Telarian, suddenly calm, said, "I've spilled too much blood following this course, construct. I shall not stop now. Step aside, or be destroyed."

Cynosure replied, "Lay down your weapon, or I shall wrest it from you." Even as Telarian composed a reply, the golem advanced a pace and punched with such speed even Raidon, for all his training, barely registered the blow. Telarian and Angul-Nis were equally unprepared. Elf and blade winged across the Throat, covering thirty paces without even skimming the floor. The diviner's form smashed into one of the great mirrors that tiled the many-walled chamber, shattering it into a thousand flashing shards.

Raidon expected the construct to follow up its advantage, but instead, it moved to the female Keeper's side in two large steps. Cynosure's voice from above said, "Delphe, we have but moments-accept this healing and ward the Well. I shall deal with Telarian." The construct touched the fallen woman's mutilated hand. There came a blue flash and a scream of agony from Delphe, but the construct was already moving toward the shattered mirror.

Not a moment too soon. Telarian retained his grip on Angul-Nis. As the man stood, a wave of ebon-tinged fire from the blade swept out, creating a wind of broken glass that left his wounds healed. The elf laughed as he advanced to join battle with the hulking construct.

A woman's voice came, "Aid me, Sign-bearer!" Raidon's gaze jerked back to Delphe, who was standing, gesturing at him with a hand pink and uncallused like baby's flesh.

Raidon dashed to Delphe's side. He clutched his forget-me-not in his left hand. From it, a sky blue radiance leaked. She had called him the Sign-bearer. .

Delphe pointed at two ebon-spiked tentacles scrabbling up and over the lip of the Well. She yelled, "The Traitor sends avatars to aid his pawn. Your Sign will provide some protection."

One spike plunged into the stone around the Well, while the other emitted a cloudy green beam aimed at Delphe. Following some unconscious instinct, Raidon intersected the beam's path with his amulet. His Sign flared and the beam guttered out.

Delphe said, "We must slay the avatar before it grows strong enough to summon the Traitor! Even as we speak, it fortifies itself. ."

Raidon stepped toward the lip. He mentally plunged a questing tip of his focus into the amulet, seeking the inner core of power he'd discovered earlier. Fire woke in his hand then flowed up his arm and face, down his shoulders, chest, and opposite arm. His eyes sparkled like sapphires.

A silvery, sleek shape the size of a man pulled itself from the Well. Raidon stepped forward and connected with three solid cross-kicks, each as punishing a strike as he had ever delivered. With each hit, he heard the sound of breaking bones and bursting organs within the creature. It flinched, yet did not fall.

Behind him, Delphe chanted. Bolts of electricity singed the creature's flesh, releasing a burning, putrid odor that nearly stopped Raidon's breath.

Her bolts carved fist-sized pockets from the amorphous creature, yet it did not fall. Indeed, it seemed to swell after each burst. Raidon attempted to backhand it with the fist clutching the Sign, but an armlike appendage blocked. He slapped the appendage down with his free hand, and surfed his striking hand straight into the creature's torso. Gangrenous fluid burst forth, splashing the monk and burning his skin like acid.

"Recall when we found the bush in the snow, laden with spring berries?" asked Kiril. Another of her treasured moments shared with Nangulis. If she could reconnect with him, perhaps the sundered halves of his spirit would permanently merge. .

"Yes. But other memories are beginning to resolve, of. . being confined, unmoving sometimes, but other times unleashed to wreak retribution?"

"Let's not talk of that-"

"No, Kiril, we must talk of it, and you must help me. A great gulf of darkness stretches back from just prior to this moment. A gulf from which images I do not understand assail me."

"Nangulis. ."

He squeezed her hand. "Please, Kiril. If you spare me whatever truth you're withholding, how can I ever be whole?"

The swordswoman wavered. She looked into Nangulis's eyes. How could she deny him anything? Perhaps, once the truth was revealed, they could leave this place and begin anew together.

"Listen, then. I have not the strength to repeat myself. The darkness that clouds your recollection is a ten-year gap during which a portion of your essence resided in the Blade Cerulean. The blade I wielded to beat back the Traitor whose escape was imminent." New tears seeped from her eyes. With her free hand, she scrubbed at them.

He cocked his head, his eyes narrowing. "Yes. . yes! The soul-forged blade! We had no choice. A purified soul to act as a lens that would focus the Cerulean Sign's duty like nothing else. I volunteered. And. ." His eyes found hers. "Did we succeed?"

"Yes."

"Then why do you cry?"

"Because you were taken from me, and my life disintegrated!"

"Then how is this conversation possible?" wondered Nangulis. His eyes strayed from Kiril, but failed to focus on anything external. He said, "I see nothing but darkness-only you are lit. Where are we?"

"We are in the Throat, and the Blade Cerulean has joined with the unused portion of your soul! From that union, your spirit emerged, or its memory. ." Kiril trailed off, confused. The image of Nangulis before her couldn't sense his surroundings, but she could, if she chose. Even with just her peripheral awareness, she knew the mad Keeper Telarian yet wielded the conjoined blade Angul-Nis. Which meant Nangulis's soul wasn't actually free of its soulblade confinement.

"You said we succeeded in stopping the Traitor."

"Ten years ago, but now-"

"And now. .?" Nangulis prodded.

"Now we are called again to defend Stardeep. The Traitor stirs, and his agent this time is nothing less than a deluded Keeper!"

"Then I must go back into that gulf of unknowing darkness?"

"I. . perhaps if we. ."

Nangulis said nothing, merely looked into her eyes, trusting her. It was her decision. She knew he'd accept whatever course of action she suggested. A hollow bloomed in her heart so vacuous she thought her chest would collapse. Her body knew; if she didn't relinquish Nangulis, ask his higher spirit to retreat to the blade physically housing it, Telarian's scheme would succeed.

"Nangulis, you know I love you, and I always-" Her voice broke, but she continued, "I always will. Know that. Know that if. . when you leave me again. ." She sobbed, unable to verbalize how she imagined her life would cease.

She said instead, "Cynosure's statue in the Throat just fell to Telarian."

"What must I do?"

"Return to the dark gulf. You must return to the sword. Find Angul! Find him, and yourself in him-pull away from all that is dark, undecided, and nihilistic. Be Angul again. ." A sob escaped her, breaking her soliloquy.

The shade before her said, "I don't fear to return-the sacrifice was already made. I merely thank the guardians of Sild?yuir and the Sign that we were given this moment. Remember me, Kiril Duskmourn."

As Nangulis turned away, she murmured, "Until the day I die."

Telarian grasped a font of puissance, wondrous and overwhelming. He couldn't contain his joy as he wielded the conjoined blades. He'd never felt so free, so alive, so compelling. It was intoxicating!

He would have jumped and yelled in triumph if not for Cynosure. It had landed a strong initial blow, but Angul-Nis wiped away the damage before the crumpling pain could propagate through his flesh. His shredded clothing revealed fresh scars twining his forearms. He laughed-emblems of his coming triumph!

His eyes found the construct as it finished healing Delphe. He frowned. It charged him, one hand out as if to embrace him in a grasping palm. The idol moved swiftly for something that should have been slow and ponderous. But Angul-Nis revealed what Telarian must do. He thrust the blade forward cross-body, its tip down, deflecting the fist to the right and scoring it with flame.

The construct pulled its hand back, but not quickly enough to prevent Telarian from whipping Angul-Nis around and delivering a tremendous stroke to its wrist, severing the hand.

"Telarian, you are misled," came Cynosure's voice. "Can't you see it? The Traitor has you in its grip. You do not hinder him; you aid his greatest hope!"

Telarian suspected Stardeep's warden attempted to distract him. It knew it couldn't stand up to the wielder of Angul-Nis. He laughed, advancing. Delphe and Cynosure truly believed he was misled. Their lack of imagination and foresight was the reason he'd been forced to act alone. They were the ones responsible for aiding the Traitor by their opposition to his plan. Through their policies, if left unchecked, Xxiphu would eventually rise. They would never have allowed him to release the Traitor to his death-they would have argued that few alive could stand against him. True. But with Angul-Nis, few things were impossible.

He swung the conjoined blade in a scything whirlwind. Cynosure couldn't retreat quickly enough, and was caught in the blade-vortex. An explosion of blue-white flames and stone shrapnel heralded the statue's dissolution. So much for Stardeep's security.

To Telarian's right, the monk wielded an amulet of the Sign as if a cestus. With Delphe's aide, he was successfully staving off a Well-born avatar-a dream of the Traitor's hope of freedom. By the same token, the avatar, with its evolving form, firmly focused Delphe and the Sign-wielding monk away from him. Telarian's path to the Well was unimpeded. He walked to the edge and peered down.

All the previous times he'd glanced into the Well, he'd seen only empty space, and at the bottom, fire. With the conjoined blade in hand, he saw deeper, heard clearer, and understood more. Tentacular shadows streamed up the well, thick as sea grass. Abolethic melodies brooded and cajoled, swelling into a chaotic babble of sound that clawed at his certainty of purpose. Visibly containing and constraining the horror were the chains of Stardeep's bonds, those which kept the Traitor secure. Bonds that could be severed.

He saw where he must cut to end the Traitor's confinement. Even as understanding flooded him, Angul-Nis bucked and shuddered in his hand. He fumbled the blade and nearly dropped it down the Well.

Telarian swore, but retained his grasp on the blade. As his heartbeat stuttered in response to the slip that almost cost him everything, he appreciated what had just occurred. Fusing the two blades had also joined the two halves of Nangulis's spirit. The man, though formless, remained a Keeper of the Cerulean Sign. Somehow, despite having no physical shell in which to observe the world, Nangulis had learned what transpired in the Throat, and sought to oppose him in the only way he was able. Nangulis sought to rupture his own temporary existence by throwing himself back into dissolution. He was trying to break himself in two.

He would fail, decided Telarian. The conjoined blade enjoyed a power fueled by two soul halves, but the consciousness of the conjoined soul had little power over the blades. Nangulis's return was a surprising new element, certainly, but one with no ability to affect its physical shell, Angul-Nis. He was merely a ghost without form, a will without the ability to achieve an end.

The diviner laughed. While he wielded Angul-Nis, the blades would remain conjoined. Nis was more than a tool; it was also a trap. "Fight all you want," he whispered, "it'll do no good. I'll not let you go." Telarian tightened his grip and once more fixed his gaze into the swirling abyss before him.

The ethereal chains remained visible to him, five in all. The chains secured the Well, and the Traitor's ultimate prison. With Angul-Nis, he began to cut them. He sawed through the first one, and the swaying shadows choking the shaft increased the pace of their obscene undulation. The babble only his ears apprehended doubled in volume.

He sliced through the second phantom chain and paused. Something shrieked far down in the Well, something that had clawed at the boundary layer far past the limits of sanity.

The diviner smashed the third chain to shrapnel. A stroke like lightning leaped up the Well and shook all Stardeep. The light glared off the faces of Delphe, her mouth open in a hopeless shout, and the Sign-wielding monk, whose efforts were overcoming the avatar. Too late.

Something stirred in the Well's bowels, a shadow anticipating its release. A shadow that no longer retained elven shape, but instead pulsed with blasphemous abnormality. He was the High Priest of the Elder Ones, first servant of the vanished Abolethic Sovereignty, who had looked up the Well for a thousand years, who had tasted the blood of his betrayed kin, who sought to lead all star elves to extinction, and who was cast out of Sild?yuir for eternity. He sought to awaken the slumbering lords of Xxiphu from their lair in the nethermost craters of the deep earth. He was the Traitor. And in another few moments, Telarian would end the Traitor's life on the edge of-

"Remember me?" came a half-familiar voice behind Telarian as heart-stopping pain blossomed in the diviner's kidney. "Your spy returns for his payment!"

Angul-Nis slipped free from his spasming hands. "No!" Telarian lurched forward, windmilling for a grip on the sword spinning free above the Well.

The conjoined sword flared, emitting a burst of energy black on one side, blue on the other. Then two blades fell away from each other. "No!" screamed Telarian, leaning forward.

Angul fell just three feet, tip downward, and knifed into the lip, and there remained quivering.

Nis tumbled free past the lip and down the Well. The diviner fell to his chest, extending half his body out over the lip as he made one final try to snare the Blade Umbral. But as he strained forward and down, someone kicked him savagely from behind. A terrible sensation of weightlessness sank into his stomach. Overbalanced, he slipped over the edge.

Nis and Telarian fell, Telarian screaming in dismay and mounting fear, Nis tracing a blur of darkness in its wake. Elf and sword flashed past the flickering shadow, past the burning boundary layer, and into the presence of the Traitor.

The High Priest of the Abolethic Sovereignty studied its mortal agent. It had expended so much energy molding and shaping the elf's mind. But the elf had failed, and with his fall into the Well, was rendered valueless. The sword Nis, whose creation was the culmination of a plan initiated with Angul's forging, stood embedded blade-first in the floor of the cell, smoldering. . fading. Even as the Traitor attempted to bring his shackled hands near enough to the hilt to grasp it, to plunge it into his own heart… it smoked away, its half-soul finally and utterly extinguished. In this prison, there was no afterlife to accept it.

Only Telarian remained, now bound as the Traitor was bound, in chains of eldritch force. Unlike the Traitor, Telarian was subject to the needs of air and nutrition. Given enough pain, his heart would fail.

The Traitor concentrated on the blinking, confused diviner whose mind had proved so ripe for instruction. A mind still open to suggestion, capable of seeing a higher reality, a reality beyond the physical. Though the Traitor couldn't touch the diviner, he could influence the diviner's mind. What the Keeper believed to be real would be real. It was the malleable reality he had hoped to extend to all the world with the Abolethic Sovereignty's rise. For now, that reality was reserved for one.

The elf screamed as the Traitor extended a nest of writhing, tooth-rimmed appendages.

Failure demanded payment.

He began to extract his due.