Томас Рейд - The Crystal Mountain

Aliisza closed her eyes. They're really going to go through with it, she thought. Even after all that's happened, they can't get out of their own way enough to see the folly. Damn them!

The High Councilor continued. "It is therefore the decision of this body that each of you be sentenced, according to your role in this fiasco, as follows:

"Eirwyn, in accordance with your previous pardon, you are free to pursue your personal agendas and keep your own

counsel, provided you make no further effort to aid and abet any of your co-defendants."

Aliisza looked at the angel and saw her shaking her head, frowning.

"Kael, you will be remanded into the care and custody of a suitable representative of Torm, where you will continue your studies under a new tutor."

Kael flinched and closed his eyes, and Aliisza's heart broke for him.

"Pharaun Mizzrym, you occupy a body given to you by those who had no right to offer it. Furthermore, as has already been discussed with you, we have determined that the Vessel into which you entered was imperfectly formed and is deteriorating. You cannot survive in such a fashion for long, and based on your life's achievements, we do not see fit to grant you succor here. Therefore, this court sees no alternative but to banish you from this Vessel and send you back from where you came."

Aliisza saw Pharaun grimace the slightest bit, but that smug smile soon replaced it. "I think we can all agree that I should have seen that coming," he said. His voice was unusually soft.

Damn you all, she thought. There's more compassion in him than in the lot of you put together.

"Aliisza," the High Councilor continued.

The alu swallowed hard and braced herself. Do it, she thought, directing all her anger at the speaker. I don't care anymore. May you all rot in the Abyss!

"Your time spent with us in the Court has proven to be… chaotic. While we cannot in good conscience find fault in your actions these last days" — How noble of you, the alu

thought, feeling no pride in such a revelation—"we also cannot comfortably justify permitting you to remain within the Court or the House. Therefore, we are banishing you from this plane forevermore. You will be returned to your homeland immediately."

Aliisza felt numb. She supposed it was the best that she could have expected, but they had still punished her more cruelly than imprisoning her forever could have. Her friends, her family, had been stripped away from her. Forever. And she had nothing to return to. She felt like a vagabond.

Finally, the acting High Councilor turned to Tauran. "Your exemplary record is long and storied," she said. "And your heart, as it has been revealed to us, is true. Your actions were indeed those of one who believed he was working in the best interests of the Court, and of the House. However, your judgment is now what is under question. You deliberately chose to disobey this council on several occasions, you attacked your fellow devas in order to thwart them in their own duties, and you have repeatedly called into question the Tightness and righteousness of Tyr and his decisions. Most importantly, you seem unrepentant. Do you deny this?"

Tauran drew a deep breath before answering. "I do not," he said, his voice clear. "I stand by my judgment."

Aliisza could see, though, that the accused angel's hands shook. She clenched her own into fists to keep them from doing the same.

The High Councilor frowned. "I see. You leave us no choice, then."

What? Aliisza thought. There might have been a choice? Tauran, repent! she silently screamed at him. Beg Tyr's forgiveness! He will embrace you again!

But the alu knew what was in Tauran's heart.

The High Councilor continued. "I therefore sentence you to be stripped of your divinity and your immortality forever. You are banned from the House of the Triad."

Tauran bowed his head and said nothing.

The only sound filling the chamber was Aliisza's sobbing.

Vhok's foul mood soured any enjoyment he might have gotten out of inspecting his troops. The demons that stood before him, shuffling about in uneven lines, with their mismatched weapons and undisciplined demeanors, only infuriated him more. They stank, scuffled, and didn't seem to care one whit that they were supposed to be standing at attention.

"These wretches aren't fit to slop latrines," he snapped at Vhissilka, who slithered along beside the cambion.

"I'll be certain to inform Lord Axithar you said so," the marilith replied.

Vhok grimaced but said nothing further as he continued down the line. Finding out that morning that he would answer to Vhissilka during the coming battle had not improved his mood.

All the women in my life have brought me nothing but misery, he fumed. Mariliths in particular find such creative ways to spoil my fun. But it was Aliisza's face that would not leave his mind's eye.

He had retired to his opulent quarters as Lord Axithar's guest the night before, eager to partake of the luxuries the balor had provided him. The feast was delectable enough, more food than he could have eaten in ten meals, and enough wine to pickle a dragon. In truth, it wasn't the best Vhok had ever enjoyed, but he could hardly complain after the trail fare he had dined on for far too long previously.

Then musicians, entertainers, even willing concubines had come to his chambers, all desperately eager to please him. Vhok tried to ignore the haunted looks in most of their eyes as he partook of the sights and sounds.

But in the end, it had been Aliisza that had dominated his thoughts. The harder he tried to dismiss her from his mind, the more she lingered there, taunting him. She would never leave him be.

I should have killed you when I had the chance, he thought. But you'll be dead soon enough. If magic doesn't kill you, an enemy will. Now get out of my head!

"Your heart doesn't seem to be in this," Vhissilka said. "Perhaps I should request a different captain for my banner guard."

Vhok forced himself to return to the moment. "Staring at them for hours won't make them better soldiers," he grumbled. "I have no more use for this."

"I agree," the marilith said. "Instead, let's return to Lord Axithar's keep. I have a surprise for you there."

Vhok gave the demon a sidelong glance. Any time a demon speaks of surprises, it's usually unpleasant. What is she conspiring to do to me? But she had already turned away and was gliding toward the towering fortress. Shrugging, the cambion followed her.

Once inside the massive keep, Vhissilka led Vhok to a large courtyard with a parapet that overlooked the assembled hordes under Axithar's command. The gathering of demons stretched as far as the smoke drifting across the broken plain would allow him to see. It was an impressive army.

We'll need every bit of it to overthrow the angels.

Vhissilka drew Vhok's attention toward a small side area. A swarm of demons moved around something large, but the cambion could not get a clear look at it. Then, as they drew closer, a great, howling cry rose up and some of the demons scattered.

Enclosed within a stout iron cage, slamming against his prison in a rage, stood the abomination that had once been Micus and Myshik. He issued a piercing scream and lunged at one end of his prison, trying catch a dretch that had drawn too close. The abomination caught hold of the demon's arm and ripped it completely off the hapless creature's body.

The dretch jabbered in pain and staggered away, spouting black blood everywhere. Two other demons pounced and rended it, feasting on its flesh. Others swarmed over it too, until Vhok could no longer even see the carcass.

"You!" Micus screamed upon spotting the cambion. "Traitor!" He threw his misshapen body against the bars of his prison frantically, over and over again, trying to get at Vhok.