Thomas Reid - The Fractured Sky

"Follow me," Zasian replied. He turned and began to walk through the mist-filled forest, pushing past the foliage that sprouted up from every direction. The dampness clung to everything, and the sounds of its dripping echoed softly through the woods. The priest could see a faint path winding among the odd, rolling ridges of ground. Zasian picked his way along it, listening for sounds of pursuit or ambush.

"This ground is odd," Myshik commented from behind Zasian. "What is this place?"

Zasian smiled. "It's not really ground at all," he said. "We are passing from the House of the Triad into the World Tree. This is the veil between those two places."

Myshik was silent for a moment, then he exclaimed, "It's bark! This is a branch!"

Zasian grimaced. "Yes, but lower your voice, Morueme. There are a few enemies still around-and new ones on our trail-that will not take kindly to our passing through here."

The priest grinned as he imagined Vhok and the others pursuing him, trying to catch up before he slipped away. Stay close, cambion, he thought. I am not finished with you yet.

They walked on in silence for some time longer, Zasian keeping a watch ahead as he followed the path. It wound between the rounded, rolling ridges of the rich, brown, woody substance and the twisted, angled trees.

Not trees, Zasian reminded himself. Branches. Twigs, perhaps.

The surrounding terrain grew higher and steeper on either side of the path, forming a narrow defile. As the trio descended into the canyon, it began to rain. The patter of drops from the gentle downpour caused little more than a whisper on the spongy ground.

Zasian pulled the hood of his cloak up and around his head, shielding him from the moisture. "Keep an eye out, now," he cautioned the other two in a soft voice. "Other things live on the World Tree, and some of them are not friendly. Sometimes, even the tree itself becomes your enemy."

The defile grew narrower and narrower, until Zasian felt his shoulders brushing against the sides as he walked. Just when it seemed that the walls had closed together too much for them to continue, the canyon ended in the entrance to a cave. The path vanished into the darkness beyond.

"Here we go," Zasian muttered, half to himself. "A bit of light, and…" He muttered a quick prayer, waved his hand over the head of his mace, and the weapon glowed with the light of day, illuminating the passage. "Kashada, Myshik, wish this unhappy place a fond farewell. We're beyond its reach, now." And with that, he ducked into the narrow opening and entered the blackness.

"Where are we going?" Kaanyr asked as he trailed after the angel. "You seem to know what this place is and why Zasian would come here."

"It is a doorway between worlds," Tauran replied, his gaze still turned toward the ground. "This part of the House borders on the World Tree. I think Zasian is going to try to travel along it to reach another plane."

Kaanyr caught sight of a second set of booted prints in the soil, smaller and more delicate than the first. "It doesn't look like he is alone," the cambion said, pointing.

Tauran stopped and knelt down, again running his finger through the depression. "I think you're right."

"Look," Aliisza said, pointing a bit farther down the path. "There's more over here. It appears someone engaged in a scuffle."

The angel rocked back on his heels, gazing into the distance, deep in thought. "This makes things quite a bit more interesting," he said, pulling on his chin. "Where did he get an ally?"

"From the same place as before," Micus said from above them.

Kaanyr flinched and darted to the side, ripping Burnblood free. He peered upward and spotted the angel standing upon a thick branch in one of the odd, sloping trees. The cambion's companions reacted just as quickly, jumping into defensive postures and freeing their weapons.

"From among the conniving fiends he calls friends," Micus continued, "like the ones you're wandering around with, Tauran."

The sound of footsteps behind Kaanyr drew his attention away from the deva in the tree. He spun and saw three hound archons fanning out to surround him. Two more materialized just behind them.

"It's a trap!" the cambion shouted. "They're surrounding us!" He backed away, considering his options. He risked a quick glimpse in other directions. Perhaps a dozen more dog-headed warriors stood on guard; a handful more instantly appeared as Kaanyr watched.

The enemy had position; the group was encircled.

"Time to surrender," Micus said. "You cannot keep running, Tauran."

"Micus, look around you," Tauran said, his frustration evident in his tone. "Look what has happened here! Isn't it obvious now that we have to find this priest? We have to stop him."

Kaanyr took a couple more steps back, away from the archons and toward his companions. The hound-headed warriors followed him, wary. As he retreated, the cambion reached into his tunic and pulled a wand free. He made the decision to speak the command word and fire glowing missiles at the nearest foe, but he couldn't quite muster the will.

Damn it to the Nine Hells! he silently seethed. "Tauran!" he growled softly, hoping the angel would understand without tipping his enemies off that he could not attack them. "What's the word?"

"Micus, this is the proof we needed!" Tauran said, ignoring Kaanyr. "Isn't this enough to go back to the High Council and convince them?"

"The High Council is already convinced," the other angel replied. "They know something is up, just as you said. But they also believe it is very unwise to trust these two. They have given me explicit instructions to bring them back to the Court. With your help or without it." Micus's last words were slow and deliberate.

Wise up, you fool of an angel! Kaanyr thought. They're never going to listen to you! Give the go-ahead!

"I gave them my word, Micus," Tauran said. "I must honor that."

"No, you must not," Micus replied. "Not to them. You have other duties, like obedience and loyalty. Those must come first."

"I'm sorry, Micus. I don't see it that way."

"Then you leave me with no choice," Micus said, his voice sounding weary. "I'm sorry, too. Take them!" he shouted. "You know your orders!"

Kaanyr snarled, and he almost didn't hear Tauran's voice ringing through the din of battle cries as the archons rushed at him.

"Fight, Kaanyr! Fight and flee!"

There we go, the cambion thought, smiling as he raised the wand. That's what I like to hear.

He uttered the magical phrase to trigger the wand and sent four glowing missiles streaking directly at the nearest hound archon. The arcane projectiles whistled through the air and slammed into the creature with staccato popping sounds. The warrior barked in pain and twitched away, stumbling to the ground.

Kaanyr didn't waste time watching to see how badly he had injured that one. He spun to another, swinging Burnblood. His smaller, lighter blade whipped toward the canine head, but the archon knocked it away with his sword. That was just what Kaanyr had hoped the creature would do, and he spun back around, getting inside the sword's reach. He rammed his enchanted blade into the archon's chest.

Before the warrior could even gasp and go wide-eyed, Kaanyr had his boot planted against the archon and yanked his sword free again. He leaped away as three more of the dog-headed warriors tried to close with him. He leveled the wand at them. Just the gesture of aiming the wand made the trio draw up, and Kaanyr used the delay to leap into the air and begin rising, drawing on his innate magic to escape their reach.

The creatures recognized the feint and renewed their efforts to come after him, but Kaanyr sent a volley of shrieking missiles in their direction, and it was enough to get him beyond their blades. He spun in place to scan the rest of the battle. He could see his companions, three isolated pockets of resistance within a swarm of archons. He had faith that Aliisza could extricate herself. Of the other two, he cared not a whit.