Clayton Emery - Sword Play

But what erupted through the rent to the Abyss were fiends larger and even more savage than Prinquis. Towering, bull-headed, bewinged, and horned, the horde of balor rushed into the great chamber in a vast, earth-shaking stampede. In their fearsome claws were morning stars, flails, many-tailed whips, and other instruments of cruelty. Flames wreathed the monsters so they were difficult to see, but clear enough were their cries of savage ecstasy.

Sunbright couldn't begin to guess how long this feud had been raging. He'd heard Sysquemalyn talk of Prinquis's never-ending war with bitter rivals, the tanar'ri of the Abyss. He supposed these creatures could wage feuds just as tribes of men and women did in the tundra and highlands and elsewhere. And he had to admire Lady Polaris, who coolly set one gang of fiends upon another so she could hover above and watch the senseless slaughter she'd engendered.

And as long as he lived, Sunbright would never forget the horror of the display. Balor killed for sheer joy. They grabbed imps by the arms and ripped them apart, even splitting the hollow leather bodies down the legs and torsos. With broad hooves, they stamped and stamped on skeletal fiends until only white dust remained, and they stamped yet on that. With great sweeps of their flails, they spattered lemures to gobbets, then punched down on the squirming mass to ignite it, so the lemures burned even as they reformed. The barbarian was sickened by the sight and wanted to cover his eyes to shut it out. This was ferocity on an unheard-of scale, and he knew it had raged for centuries and would continue for all time. From the glee these balor exhibited, he knew they would kill their rivals, crush them to flinders, burn them to ashes, and then resurrect them to do it all again.

Then he didn't have to see any more, for a cool voice cut through the chaos. "Children, come." Magically he was lifted off his feet, levitated along with Candlemas and Sysquemalyn to hover at the feet of Lady Polaris. With a single finger she'd lifted them, and now raised another digit to take them elsewhere.

The three of them, Sunbright thought. Not four.

Not Greenwillow, who was gone forever.

For a second, he wanted to stay and be killed, to see if he could find her in some afterlife.

Then a blinding white flare from a frosty fingernail engulfed him, and he could see and feel nothing.

"It was wise of you two to cooperate to summon me. Neither of you were strong enough, alone, to reach me from the Hells. You did well."

The party stood in bright sunlight that flooded through the windows of Candlemas's workshop in the floating castle of Delia, one of Lady Polaris's many homes. Sunbright stood unsteadily, marveling that they could travel from such a hell-hole to a bright and beautiful and peaceful place in an eye-blink. The sky beyond the windows was blue and clean, and red-tailed hawks with feathers like broad fingers banked on the fair winds. Through one window he could just glimpse a hilltop thick with trees, and knew he hung over the Great Forest.

Suddenly a great yearning to be there, down among the sturdy aromatic pines and dappled glades and cool, clear pools overwhelmed him, and Sunbright almost cried out. But he had to bide his time and keep a low profile, as if stalking game in dangerous territory. He was safe here, for the moment, as safe as he could be in the clutch of wizards. They'd lied to him and used him, and he had to be wary.

But he was almost too exhausted to stand, let alone think. In fact, he took the lead of the two lesser mages and sank to the floor, bracing his back against a sturdy table leg.

Graciously, Lady Polaris excused their weariness and allowed the three to sit in her presence. Gently, she queried Candlemas and Sysquemalyn as to how they'd found themselves in the Nine Hells, and the events that had led up to their being there. Sunbright marveled at Sysquemalyn's version of the story. The barbarian didn't know all of what had happened, but he knew that much of what the mage said was pure fabrication. Still, the archmage listened patiently, as if to a small child reciting an exciting dream. The red-haired mage finished with "… and so we thank you from the bottom of our hearts for our deliverance. We hope in serving you in the future, We can pay back in some small measure your magnificent and lordly rescue."

"You're very welcome," pronounced the lady. But Sunbright, a forgotten observer, thought he detected a hint of ice in her tone. More than anything, he thought, she looked like some great white cat who'd plucked a mouse from a hole and now contemplated what to do with it. "On the other hand, your pranks-both of yours-have caused considerable mischief. No doubt you're unaware that my fellow archmages have been compelled to step in to close the leaks you sprang in the Nine Hells, Sysquemalyn. In the last two days, we've all had to slave to correct your mistakes, and have labored harder than we have in the past hundred years. Many projects and games and plots had to be abandoned while we cleaned up this mess. You've no idea the total losses in revenues and lives. Even here in my own castle, I was required to pluck the body of a dead maid, entirely drained of blood, off my bed. Nor was I happy to be reminded constantly by the other archmages that it was one of my charges who had slipped her leash. Oh, no, I am not pleased."

Down had thumped the white paw onto the mouse, thought Sunbright, and he was glad to be temporarily overlooked. He froze, not even blinking, as someone else was raked over the coals. He prayed he wouldn't get a turn.

"Now, I believe there was something about a wager." Lady Polaris's eyes were bright, and Sunbright realized she enjoyed chastising her underlings.

Sysquemalyn's face was shiny with sweat, her eyes wide with fear, her mouth jerked into a rictus like a skull's. "Oh, the wager. Uh, that's been suspended. Candlemas and I called it off."

"Nonsense," corrected the lady. She took a step back and clasped her hands, as if readying to work. Candlemas, who'd been slumped near Sysquemalyn on the stone flags of his workshop, began to edge away as quietly as possible.

"Not at all," the archmage continued. "You played; you lost; you pay the forfeit. That's the way of the Netherese, and such you are, although of the very lowest, most common sort, barely above the beasts."

Sysquemalyn went pale, and her lower lip trembled. Covered with grime, her once-glorious red hair filthy and lank, she resembled something dumped on a garbage heap, while Lady Polaris, pronouncing sentence, loomed ever larger and more beautiful, like some god.

The archmage's even contralto droned on. "It's been instructive watching the two of you squabble. I expect that of children, for it's one way they learn. But you, dear Sysquemalyn, have expended too much time carrying tales about your lord and mistress. I've heard myself addressed as the Great White Cow, the Dead White Fish, the Whining White Weasel, and so on and so forth. You projected into the future, when you would be archmage and I your underling. You said I would have my nose slit and be the plaything of the palace guards and empty your chamber pots. All fascinating, enlightening stories. Some of it I discarded as the prattle of a child, but I'm afraid that now you've overstepped your bounds."

Caught in her scheming, stunned that her words had come back to haunt her, Sysquemalyn cried out in protest. Tears spilled down her cheeks, leaving streaks in the dirt. Lady Polaris's face was frozen in anger. Sunbright rolled his eyes to scan the windows and the only doorway out. If the archmage loosed her pulse of white light in here, it would be the last thing any of them ever saw.

"Remember you the terms of the bargain, dear Syssy?" Polaris went on. "This barbarian hulk here was to be given escalating tests, his only goal to survive. Bear witness: he's still alive. He's withstood every test you could connive, and now he's been to the Nine Hells and back. That's the ultimate test for a human, to my mind. So you, Sysquemalyn, have decidedly lost the contest. And what were the terms at the last?"