Tag Archives: Ariel

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“So, we’ve got that hangin’ over us all fuckin’ summer,” Ruda groused. “Come back for our sophomore year and immediately get put to work scrubbing mulch and basting doors and whatever the hell housekeeping tasks Stew thinks up until Tellwyrn gets tired of our suffering. Hoo-fucking-ray.”

“Scrubbing mulch?” Gabriel said, his eyebrows shooting upward. “Have you ever cleaned anything in your life, Princess?”

“Arquin, you will never be demonic enough or divine enough that I will refrain from kicking your ass. Bring the skeevy dude in the hat down here and I’ll kick his ass, too.”

“Sorry to interrupt your blasphemy,” Trissiny said, raising an eyebrow, “but I won’t be joining in your mulch-scrubbing this fall. I’m staying on campus over the summer.”

“Yup!” Fross chimed, bobbing around them. “Professor Tellwyrn is letting us do our punishment duty over the summer and get it out of the way. It’s pretty accommodating of her! We broke a lot of campus rules.”

“Considering she’s still punishing us for obeying a direct command from the gods, I’m not gonna get too worked up about her generosity,” Gabriel muttered.

“To be technical,” said Fross, “she’s punishing Trissiny and Toby for obeying a direct command from the gods, which is actually not at all out of character given her history. The rest of us don’t really have an excuse. I mean, if she’s not gonna accept a divine mandate as a good reason, citing friendship probably isn’t gonna help. Anyhow, I’ve gotta go finish cleaning up the spell lab I was using. Nobody leave campus before I can say goodbye! Oh, Ruda, looks like your dad is here. See ya later!”

The pixie zipped off toward the magical arts building in a silver streak, leaving the others staring after her.

“What?” Ruda demanded. “My—what? Oh, shit.”

It was a characteristically sunny day, with a brisk wind across the mountain cutting the prairie heat. The campus of the University was teeming with people, despite the fact that many of the students were already gone. Parents, friends and family members were everywhere, picking up their kids and being shown around on one of the few occasions when non-initiates of the University were welcomed there. A few curiosity-seekers had also snuck in, though they seldom lasted long before Tellwyrn found and disposed of them. Professor Rafe had already been informed that if he didn’t remove the betting board set up in the cafeteria speculating on where various journalists and pilgrims had been teleported to, he himself would be walking home from Shaathvar.

Now, a sizable party of men and women in feathered hats, heavy boots and greatcoats were making their way up the avenue to the main lawn, on which the six freshmen had just come to a stop. Toby and Juniper had both departed that morning, leaving the rest to make more leisurely goodbyes as they still had time.

Trissiny touched Ruda’s shoulder lightly from behind. “Are you okay? Do you need—”

“No,” she said quietly. “I have to face this. Guys, if I don’t get to talk to you again, enjoy your summer.” Squaring her shoulders, she stepped forward, striding up to the group of oncoming Punaji.

They stopped at their princess’s approach, parting to let the towering figure in the middle come forth. King Rajakhan was a looming wall of a man, a bulky mass of muscle who would have looked squat due to his build if the proximity of more normally-sized people didn’t reveal that he was also hugely tall. The bushy black beard which was the source of his nickname did not conceal a tremendous scowl. He stepped up, folding brawny arms across his massive chest, and stared down at his daughter.

Ruda, uncharacteristically subdued, removed her hat respectfully and stopped a mere yard from him. The onlooking pirates watched, impassive and silent; the remaining freshmen edged closer.

“The news I hear has impelled me to spend from our people’s treasury to have portal mages bring me here,” he rumbled. “I am pleased to see you whole, daughter. Less pleased by the report I have from Professor Tellwyrn. I understand that you were given an order to evacuate, and you disobeyed it. Through magical subterfuge. This is true?”

“My friends—my crew—had to stay, by orders of the gods,” she said quietly. “I wasn’t raised to leave people behind in danger.”

“I hear your justifications, but not the answer I asked for,” Blackbeard growled.

Ruda stiffened her shoulders slightly. “This is true, sir.”

He snorted. “I further understand that you slew three shadowlord demons and uncounted buzzers yourself, placing your own life in danger.”

“Yes, sir,” she said woodenly. “Alongside eight of the best people I know.”

“I further understand that you were stopped only because you somehow ingested the poison blood of your enemy.”

“Yes, sir. We grappled too closely for swords. I bit its throat.” Her lips twisted in remembered disgust. “They have very tough hides.”

He slowly began drawing in a very deep breath, his huge chest swelling even further, then let it out in one explosive sigh that made his beard momentarily flap like a banner. Somehow, it occurred to nobody to laugh at what would otherwise be a comical sight.

“In all the nations on land or sea,” the Pirate King said with a faint tremor in his voice, reaching out to place one enormous hairy hand on Ruda’s shoulder, “there has never been a prouder father.”

“Papa!” Ruda squealed, launching herself into his arms. Rajakhan’s laughter boomed across the quad as he spun her around in circles, the pirates around him adding their cheers to the noise (and half of them brandishing weapons).

“As I live and breathe,” Gabriel said in wonder.

“I feel I have just gained a better understanding of Ruda’s upbringing,” Shaeine said softly, “and some of what has occurred thereafter.”

“Hey, Teal,” Tanq said, approaching the group but watching the loud pirates curiously. “Does your family own a zeppelin?”

Teal abruptly whirled toward him, growing pale. “…why do you ask?”

“I just wondered. There’s a little one moored at the Rail platform down in town; I saw it when I was sending a scroll… It’s got the Falconer Industries crest on the balloon. I just wondered if it was a company craft or if FI was making them now. Pretty sweet little rig, if I’m any judge.”

“Oh no,” Teal groaned, clapping a hand over her eyes. “Oh, no. I told them… Augh!”

She took off down the path at a near run.

Tanq blinked, staring after her, then turned to the rest of the group. “What’d I say?”

“Teal laboriously made plans regarding our travel arrangements from the campus,” Shaeine replied. “I gather they have just been abruptly modified. Excuse me, please? If I don’t see you again, my friends, I wish you the best over the coming months and look forward to our reunion.” She bowed to them, then favored them with one of her rare, sincere smiles, before turning and gliding off after Teal.


She was about to unleash Vadrieny and swoop upward for a better view when a fortuitous gap between buildings happened to give her a view down onto Last Rock, including a familiar silver shape perched at its edges, with an even more familiar sigil emblazoned on its side.

“Why!?” she groaned. “Why would they do that? I had everything arranged!”

They care about you, and this campus was recently the site of a major crisis. Which we jumped into the middle of. Makes perfect sense to me.

“Oh, whose side are you on?” she snapped. Vadrieny’s silent laugh bubbled through her.

It’ll be all right, Teal. They’ll understand.

“I know how to deal with them. I was gonna have time to explain things on the magic mirror, and then they’d have had the carriage ride to get used to it… Oh, gods, this is gonna be so awkward. Damn it, why don’t they ever listen?”

So they may not understand as quickly, or as easily. They will, though.

“Teal!”

She whirled at hearing her name, beholding two well-known figures striding quickly toward her from the direction of the upper terrace.

“Speak of the demon,” she said fatalistically.

“Well, that’s a nice way to greet your parents,” Marguerite Falconer said, trying without success to look annoyed. Beside her, Geoffrey grinned in delight, not even making the effort.

“This place is somehow smaller than I was imagining it,” he said. “But so…gothic. With all this grandiose architecture and these overgrown paths, I almost can’t believe it’s only fifty years old. We actually managed to get lost, if you can believe that!”

“I can believe it,” Teal said in exasperation. “What are you doing here with that airship? I made plans! Everything was arranged!”

“Well, excuse us for jumping the wand,” Marguerite replied, raising her eyebrows and pushing her spectacles back up her nose. “What with our only child, who has already suffered far more than her fair share of disasters, being stuck in the middle of a hellgate, we were just a little anxious to see you again.”

“C’mere,” Geoffrey ordered, stepping up and sweeping Teal into a hug. She hugged him back, despite her annoyance, relaxing into the embrace as her mother joined it from behind.

“It’s not that I’m not happy to see you,” she mumbled into her father’s cardigan. “I just wanted to… I mean, I had a plan. There was some stuff I wanted to, uh, get you ready for before it, y’know…”

“Oh, Teal,” Marguerite said reproachfully, finally stepping back. Geoffrey released her, too, ruffling her hair. “Dear, it’s all right. It’s not as if this is some great secret. You know we’re fine with it.”

“I mean, for heaven’s sakes, our best friend is an elf,” Geoffrey added with a grin. “You said you were bringing someone special home for the summer holiday. We can manage to put two and two together.”

“I’m sure we’ll love her. Our daughter can only have good taste!”

Teal sighed heavily, staring hopelessly at them. At a glance, nobody would take the Falconers for two of the richest people in the Empire. They were a matched set, both with mouse-brown hair cut short, which looked almost boyish on Marguerite and rather shaggy on Geoffrey. He had a round, florid face decorated by a beard in need of trimming, while her pointed features had been described as “elfin,” but they shared a preference for comfortable, casual clothes in a masculine style. Even their glasses were identical.

“Well, I did try,” she said finally. “Give me credit for that much, at least, when this is all falling out.”

“Oh, Teal, I’ve missed you,” Marguerite said fondly. “Dramatic streak and all.” Geoffrey snorted a laugh.

“Teal? Is everything all right?”

Teal heaved a short, shallow sigh, then half-turned to smile at Shaeine as the priestess glided up to them. “Well, that remains to be seen. Mom, Dad, may I present Shaeine nur Ashaele d’zin Awarrion. Shaeine, these are my parents, Marguerite and Geoffrey Falconer.”

“It is an honor and a pleasure,” Shaeine said, bowing deeply to the Falconers. “Your daughter is a great credit to your lineage.”

“My, isn’t she well-mannered,” Marguerite said with a broad smile. “Teal, I can only hope the rest of your friends are such a good influence.”

“I gather you have not introduced them to Ruda yet,” Shaeine said calmly. Teal snorted a laugh.

“Ruda Punaji?” Geoffrey said with a grin. “I’m curious to meet that one, after your letters. But maybe in a more, you know, controlled environment.”

“Oh, stop it,” Marguerite chided, swatting him playfully. “It’s lovely to meet you, Sheen. Don’t mind my husband, he belongs in a workshop, not among civilized people.”

“That was an excellent try,” the drow replied with a smile. “It’s actually Sha-ayne.”

“It’s all one vowel,” Teal added. “Just changes pronunciation partway.”

“Really?” Geoffrey marveled. “I fancy I speak a smidge of elvish. Not as well as Teal, of course, but that’s a new one.”

“Don’t be an ass, Geoff, she’s Narisian. Of course they have a different dialect. Shaeine, yes? How did I do?”

“Perfect,” Shaeine replied, smiling more broadly. “You have an agile tongue, Mrs. Falconer.”

“I’ll say she—”

“Don’t you dare!” Marguerite shrieked, smacking her husband across the back of his head. He caught his flying glasses, laughing uproariously. Teal covered her eyes with a hand.

“Anyway,” Marguerite said with more dignity as Geoffrey readjusted his glasses, still chuckling, “I’m sure we’ll be glad to meet all your classmates, honey, but we should see about getting your luggage together.”

“We saw that crazy tower you’re apparently living in,” Geoffrey added, “but I guess it’s not open to visitors. Inconvenient, but a fine policy in my opinion! I remember my own college days. Barely. It’s also a fine policy that this is a dry campus.”

“Will your girlfriend be meeting us there?” Marguerite asked. “I’m just about beside myself with curiosity! Don’t look at me like that, it’s a mother’s prerogative.”

Teal closed her eyes, inhaled deeply through her teeth, and let the breath out through her nose, trying to ignore the hysterical mirth echoing in her mind from her demon counterpart. Shaeine half-turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow.

The silence stretched out.

Suddenly Marguerite’s face paled in comprehension, and she settled a wide-eyed stare on Shaeine. “Oh.”

Geoffrey looked at his wife, then his daughter, then shrugged, still smiling innocently. “What?”


“So, is this the new thing?” Trissiny asked, pointing at the sword hanging from Gabriel’s belt opposite his new wand, which rested in a holster. “You’re a swordsman now?”

“Oh…well.” He shrugged uncomfortably, placing a hand on Ariel’s hilt. “I just… I don’t know, I find it kind of comforting, having it there. Is that weird?”

“Taking comfort in the weight of a sword is certainly not weird to me,” she said with a smile. “I’m a little surprised you would enjoy it, though.”

“Yeah, I kind of am, too,” he said ruefully. “It’s just… The whole world just got turned upside-down on me, you know? I’ve only had Ariel here for a couple months, but it’s still something familiar. Something I can literally hang onto.”

“I do, know,” she said quietly. “I remember the feeling all too well. It was a very different circumstance, of course… I couldn’t begin to guess whether that would make it more or less shocking to experience.”

He laughed. “Less. Much less. Modesty aside, Triss, you’re pretty much a model Avenist. Me, I’m not even Vidian. I never even thought about whether I’d want to be. It’s not as if I ever prayed, after that one time. Burned my goddamn tongue, and I mean that as literally as possible.”

Trissiny nodded. “There’s… I guess there is just no precedent for what you’re having to deal with. I’ll help if I can at all, though. Anything you need to talk about, just ask. And not just me, of course. Do you know how soon Toby is coming back to campus?”

“Just a couple of weeks, actually. He needs to spend some time with the Omnists and the Universal Church over the summer, but apparently shepherding my clumsy ass is also a significant priority.”

“I have the same duties,” she said solemnly. “But I’m not making my trips to Tiraas and Viridill until later in the summer. I guess I just drew the first Gabriel shift.”

“Har har.” He stopped walking, and she paused beside him. They were in a relatively shady intersection of paths, with the bridge to Clarke Tower just up ahead. Towering elms, swaying and whispering softly in the gentle wind, shielded them from the direct sun. “Triss, I am scared out of my fucking mind.”

“I know.” She squeezed his shoulder. “I know. Look, Gabriel, it’s… It’s just a hell of a thing, okay? But…and I mean this sincerely…you will be all right. I truly do believe you can do this. I would never have predicted it in a million years, but in hindsight, it makes a great deal of sense. This will work. You’ll be fine.”

“That…” He swallowed painfully. “Hah. That means a lot, Trissiny. Especially from you. More than from anyone else, maybe.”

“Well, there’s that, too,” she said, smiling. “Whatever else happens, Gabe, you can always count on me to let you know when you screw up.”

“Well, sure. It hardly even needs to be said, does it?”

She laughed softly. “Well…anyhow. I’ve got to head inside here for a minute. You’re going to be in the cafeteria for dinner?”

“Along with the other losers who are staying over the summer, yup.” He stuck his hands in his coat pockets. “I do need to visit the Vidians at some point, but they’re coming here. So’s my dad. Apparently there’s kind of a controversy around me at the moment. Can’t imagine why.”

“Probably best not to have you in circulation just yet,” she said with a grin. “Well… I guess I’ll see you around campus, then?”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling back. “See you around.”

Gabriel watched her go, until she passed through the gate onto the bridge itself, then shook his head, still smiling, and resumed his slow way along the path.

“That girl has a powerful need for your approval.”

“What?” He laughed aloud. “That is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. And considering what recently—”

He stopped, frowning and staring around. There was no one nearby.

“Granted, I only know what I’ve heard from conversations around you, but didn’t she try to murder you once? That would weigh on the conscience of anybody who has one. The more she gets to know you as a real person, rather than the imaginary monster she was reacting to at the time, the uglier that whole business must look to her. Of course, a properly spiritual person could recognize all this and deal with it, but… Let’s be honest, Avei doesn’t go out of her way to pick deep thinkers.”

He had spun this way and that, growing increasingly agitated as the voice droned on, finally resting his hand on the sword’s hilt. Through it, he could feel something. Not quite energy, but the potential for it; the same feeling he was used to experiencing when working with raw magic.

“You… You’re the sword!”

“’The sword.’ That’s lovely, Gabriel, really charming. It’s not as if you don’t know my name. Look, I suggest you find a relatively private place to sit for a while. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”


Tellwyrn was grumbling to herself, mostly about journalists, as she kicked the door shut behind her and strode toward her desk. She hadn’t gotten three steps into the office before her chair spun around, revealing a grinning figure in a red dress perched therein.

“Arachne! Darling!”

“Out of my seat, Lil,” she said curtly.

“Ooh, have I told you how much I love this new schoolmarm thing you have going on?” Elilial trilled, giggling coquettishly. “So stern! So upright! It’s very convincing, dear. A person would never guess how much fun you are in bed.”

The chair jerked sideways and tipped, roughly depositing its occupant on the carpet.

“Oof,” the goddess of cunning said reproachfully, getting back to her feet and rubbing her bum. “Well, if you’re going to be that way…”

“What do you want?” Tellwyrn demanded, stepping around the desk and plopping down in her recently vacated chair. “It’s not as if I ever see you unless you’ve just done something terrible or are about to. You’re just as bad as the others in that regard. Though in this case I guess there’s rather a large elephant in the room, isn’t there?”

“All right, yes, that’s true,” Elilial allowed, strolling casually around to the front of the desk. “I do owe you an apology. Believe me, Arachne, boring new hellgates onto your property is most definitely not on my agenda. It seems one of my gnagrethycts took it upon himself to assist in that idiotic enterprise, which I consider a breach of my promise not to bring harm on you or yours. I am humbly sorry for my negligence.”

“Mm,” the Professor said noncommittally. “I heard you were down to seven of them.”

“Six, now,” the goddess said with grim satisfaction. “Demons get agitated if you lean on them too hard; I do try to let them have some leeway. But there are some things I simply will not put up with.”

“A gnagrethyct, or anything else—even you—couldn’t rip open a dimensional portal without having someone on the other side to work with,” Tellwyrn said, leaning back in the chair and staring at the goddess over the tops of her spectacles. “And nobody on this campus could have pulled off such a thing without tripping my wards…unless they were an initiate of my University. Any thoughts on that?”

“I may have a few ideas, yes,” Elilial purred. “What’s it worth to you?”

“You are having a deleterious effect on my already-strained patience.”

“Oh, Arachne, this is your whole problem; you’ve totally forgotten how to enjoy life. Yes, fine, I may have given a helping hand to some of your dear students.”

“You promised to leave them alone, Lil.”

“I promised to bring them no harm.” Elilial held up a finger. “In fact, I went one better and did the opposite. You know I caught a couple of those little scamps trying to summon a greater djinn? I cannot imagine what possessed them to think they could control such a thing. Pun intended. Really, you should keep a closer eye on your kids; I can’t be saving their lives all the time.”

“You haven’t spent much time around college students if you believe they think before doing shit,” Tellwyrn growled. “Did they at least try to hide in the Crawl first? If any of those little morons did that in one of my spell labs I swear I’ll visit them all at home in alphabetical order and slap their heads backwards.”

“Yes, yes, you’re very fearsome,” she said condescendingly. “But enough about that, why don’t we discuss the future?”

“Oh, you’re already going to tell me what you actually want?” Tellwyrn said dryly. “That has to be a record. Are you in a hurry for some reason?”

“Don’t trouble yourself about my problems, dear, though I do appreciate the concern. But yes, I am interested in, shall we say, tightening our relationship. We’ve worked so well together in the past, don’t you think?”

“I remember us working well together once.”

“And what a time that was!” Elilial said with a reminiscent smile.

“You called me a presumptuous mealworm and I goosed you.”

“A whole city left in flames and shambles, panicked drow fleeing everywhere, Scyllith’s entire day just ruined. Ah, I’ve rarely enjoyed myself so thoroughly. Don’t you miss it?”

“I have things to do,” Tellwyrn said pointedly. “Teaching my students. Looking after their safety. Getting tangled up with you is hardly a step in pursuit of that goal.”

“I think you’re wrong there, darling,” the goddess said firmly, the mirth fading from her expression. “This weeks little mess was but a taste. No, before you get all indignant, I am not threatening you. I am cautioning you, strictly because I like you, that the world is going to become increasingly dangerous in the coming days, and the wisest thing a person can do is develop a capacity to contend with demons. And lucky you, here you have an old friend who is the best ally a person could have in such matters!”

“Oh, sure,” Tellwyrn sneered. “And all I’d have to do to achieve that is make an enemy of the Empire on which my campus is built, not to mention that crusading spider Justinian.”

“Well, there’s no reason you have to tell them about it, you silly goose.”

“Mm hm. And in this…partnership…you would, of course, be telling me the total, unequivocal truth about everything you’re doing, in all detail?”

“Now you’re just being unreasonable, Arachne. I’m still me, after all. I can’t function without a few cards up my sleeve.”

“This sounds increasingly like a bargain that benefits no one but you,” Tellwyrn said shortly. “I can’t help thinking I’m better off with my current allies. None of them are invested in ending the world.”

“You know very well I have no interest in ending the world. Merely the deities lording over it. Really, I am very nearly hurt. You of all people know me better than that.”

“I do indeed, which is why I’m declining your very generous proposal.”

“Are you sure?” Elilial asked with a sly smile. “You’re not even a little bit curious to know which of your little dears are opening hellgates and fooling about with dark powers beyond their ken?”

“You could just tell me, you know. It would be exactly the kind of nice gesture that might have led me to consider your offer if you’d made a habit of making them before now.”

“Now, now, giving something for nothing is against my religion. I’m just saying, Arachne, I’m a good friend to have. In general, and in your case, very specifically.”

“So the world at large is about to have demon trouble, is it?” Tellwyrn mused, steepling her fingers. “And I’m likely to see my students imperiled as a result, yes? Well, I now know who to blame if they do suffer for it. You have my word, Elilial, that if that happens, I will be discussing the matter with you. Thoroughly, but as briefly as possible.”

The goddess’s smile collapsed entirely. “Only you could be so bullheaded as to turn this into an exchange of threats so quickly. I came here in good faith to propose a mutually beneficial partnership, Arachne.”

“You came here to use me,” Tellwyrn shot back. “I don’t particularly mind that. I don’t even much object to being lied to about it. I might actually have been amenable to the idea, except that you want to use my University and my students in the process. That will not happen, Elilial. I strongly advise you not to try.”

“Do you truly believe yourself equal to the task of opposing me?” the goddess asked coldly.

Tellwyrn clicked her tongue. “And now come those threats you didn’t come here to make…”

“If you insist on relating in those terms, I’ll oblige. You’re a blunt instrument, Arachne. Oh, you were clever enough in the distant past. Your deviousness in Scyllithar was inspiring, and I mean that sincerely. I was deeply impressed. But you have spent the entirety of the intervening three thousand years swaggering around throwing sucker punches and fireballs until you’ve forgotten how to do anything else. It’s gotten to the point that all I have to do to aim you in the direction I want you to look is scrawl a warning outside your door telling you not to. That barely even counts as manipulation, Arachne. It’s embarrassing to both of us. And you think you’re going to set yourself up against me? In the wide world, with all its subtleties and illusions waiting to serve as my props?” She snorted. “Please.”

“Well, perhaps you have a point,” Tellwyrn said placidly, shrugging. “After all, I’ve spent three millennia trying to get close to all the various gods, seeking their help. You, meanwhile, have been trying devotedly to destroy them for more than twice that time. Tell me, since you’re so much more dangerous than I…” She smiled sweetly. “How many of them have you killed?”

They locked eyes in silence, neither wavering by a hair.

Finally, Elilial let out a soft sigh through her nose. “I think you just enjoy being difficult for its own sake.”

“Well, no shit, Professor.”

“I’ll repeat my offer, Arachne,” the goddess said mildly, stepping back from the desk. “But not often, and not infinitely. You’ll have a limited time in which to come to your senses.”

“That’s fine, if you insist. But I’m not any more fond of repeating myself than you are, Lil. Really, if you want to save yourself the bother, I won’t blame you in the slightest.”

Elilial smiled slightly, coldly, and vanished without a sound. Only the faint scent of sulfur remained behind her.

Tellwyrn just sat without moving, frowning deeply in thought.


“You’re sure?”

“Yes, we’re sure,” Fauna said testily. “It’s not really ambiguous.”

“Or difficult,” Flora added. “Took us all of half an hour to sift through the records.”

“The Nemetites organizing the thing are extremely helpful. The nice lady was able to pull the public record for us and explain what all the legalese meant.”

“It’s held through a dummy company, you see, but she knew the legal and cult codes to identify the buyers. So yeah, we had the answer pretty quickly.”

Darling swiveled in his office chair, staring at the unlit fireplace. “Not the trap she was expecting,” he whispered.

“Oh, gods, now he’s muttering to himself,” Fauna groaned.

He returned his gaze to them. “All right, sasspants, since you’re so smart, interpret what you found for me.”

“Oh, come on,” Flora said.

Darling held up a hand peremptorily. “Let’s not forget who the apprentices here are. No matter what the question, whining is never the correct answer.”

Fauna sighed dramatically, but replied. “It wasn’t truly hidden. We were able to get the truth in minutes, using entirely legal means. The means provided by the library itself, even.”

“So, not a secret,” Flora said. “But… Meant to look like a secret.”

He nodded. “Go on…”

“A message, maybe?” Fauna continued, frowning as she got into the exercise. “Either a barrier only to the laziest of inquirers…”

“Or a hidden signal to someone smarter,” Flora finished. “Or possibly both.”

“Very good,” he said approvingly, nodding. “That’s the conclusion to which I came, too. Of course, your guess is literally as good as mine.”

“So you’re in the dark, then? Why was it so important to find out?”

“And no more of your shifty bullshit,” Flora said pointedly, leveling a finger at him. “Damn it, we’ve had enough of that this week. None of this ‘I’ll tell you when it’s time’ crap.”

“Yeah, you sent us to deal with something you could’ve sniffed out yourself in less than an hour; we’re entitled to know what’s going on, here, Sweet.”

“Why is this important? What does it mean that the Thieves’ Guild owns Marcio’s Bistro?”

Darling turned his eyes back to the fireplace, staring sightlessly while his mind rummaged through possibilities. He was quiet for so long that Flora, scowling, opened her mouth to repeat her demand before he finally answered.

“I don’t know.”

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7 – 9

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“I had no idea this was here,” Rook said, keeping a hand on the wall as he crept along the narrow passage.

Tellwyrn half-turned her head to scowl at him, the orb of light hovering over her hand casting eerie shadows across her face. “That’s because you never needed to know. In fact, once all this nonsense is over with, you can forget you knew about it, understand? This is an emergency access.” She turned back to face forward, her continued grousing clearly audible. “If the students find out about this, it’ll be full of beer bottles and bodily fluids by the end of the week. What is it with kids and dark, private places… I should’ve just adopted fifty cats.”

Rook glanced back at his compatriots, none of whom offered a comment. Wisely, he didn’t either.

The tunnel couldn’t have been that long, but already their passage through the cellar of the Ale & Wenches seemed like it had occurred in another life. Down here there was nothing but bare granite walls. Though full of dust and cobwebs, the stone was glossy smooth and seamless, clearly having been bored out of the mountain with impossible precision, no doubt by some arcane craft of Tellwyrn’s. It had no lights of any kind save that which she had brought, and as she kept it at the head of the group, Finchley kept nervously speeding up to outpace the darkness behind him, earning irritated grumbles every time he bumped into Moriarty.

“Ah, here we are,” Tellwyrn said after a long, awkwardly silent hike.

“Finally,” Moriarty muttered.

The appearance of a circular chamber ahead took them by surprise; though their guide’s slim profile concealed little, the darkness and her control of the light source meant none of the three were really aware of their destination until the Professor was stepping out into it.

The chamber was round, gray, and otherwise exactly like the tunnel which led to it, carved from granite as smooth as glass, its surface gleaming in the glow of her light. It was dim even with the glowball present, just large enough to swallow its relatively feeble rays, but not so much that there were any areas left in blackness. That, plus the absence of any corners due to its round construction, made the place less spooky than the tunnel. All three stumbled into each other and nearly lost their footing in their haste to get inside.

Professor Tellwyrn gave them a disparaging look, then stepped onto the low platform in the center. “Well, come on. It’s chaos up there, if you hadn’t noticed. I haven’t time for your pratfalling.”

They crept obediently up the single step onto the small, circular dais. Apart from the open segment through which they stepped, it was encircled by a waist-high rail of tarnished brass, set about half a foot inward from the perimeter. The space was big enough to comfortably hold a person, and was quite snug with four.

“You’ll want to hang onto the rail,” Tellwyrn said, not making any move to do so herself. “Stay away from the open edge and don’t stick out your hands, or anything else you may need later.”

“What?” Rook grimaced at the dusty rail under his hands, shaking a spiderweb off his fingers. “What is this, a teleporter of some kind?”

“Teleportation isn’t safe near a hellgate,” Moriarty snapped. “Otherwise she could have just ported us all there from Calderaas.”

“So what’s the…” Finchley trailed off, having spied the circular hole in the ceiling, sized exactly the same as the dais. Beyond it was only blackness. “…oh, bugger.”

Tellwyrn grinned. “This comes out in the staff lounge, which has a sink. So if any of you are inclined toward motion sickness, I strongly suggest you hold it until we arrive.”

“If we were inclined toward motion sickness,” Rook retorted, “you’d have found out on the RAAAAIIIII—”

There was no preparation or warning of any kind. The stone platform just shot straight upward with a speed that nearly flung all of them to the floor. Except, of course, for Professor Tellwyrn, who folded her arms and balanced calmly in the gap at the front, watching smooth stone walls whiz past as they ascended.

“Been a while since I hung around with soldiers,” she murmured to herself. “Seems to involve a lot more screaming than I remember.”


 

“Are you sure you’re okay? How’s your head?”

“You didn’t hit my head, just winded me.”

“I’m really sorry about—”

“Fross,” Ruda said firmly, grinning up at her. “Just for future reference, if the options are between smacking me around a little and letting me get eaten and/or landed on by a giant fucking bird-eel-dragon thing from Hell, make with the smacking. I’m fine. Let’s focus on fixing this bullshit.”

“Okay,” the pixie agreed, bobbing down lower. “I’ll work on my fine control. I’m not used to levitating something person-sized with, y’know, precision.”

“Mm hm,” Ruda said absently, crouching behind a pile of rubble as a small group of hiszilisks buzzed past in the near distance.

The cafeteria was a shambles. In addition to the shattered windows along its front face, half the roof had been caved in by the nurdrakhaan’s impact. The wreckage provided a convenient path for them, though, between the dangerously exposed facade of Helion Hall and the now-smashed astronomy tower. Between heaps of fallen timber and brickwork, upset tables and chairs and the building’s remaining walls and support pillars, there was plenty of cover for them to creep through. Best of all, the hiszilisks didn’t seem interested in poking around through it, perhaps due to its wrecked state.

“Are we wasting our time?” Fross asked in a hushed tone. “Surely they’re not still planning to meet at the tower. It’s smashed.”

“It was the last plan we had,” Ruda replied just as quietly, peeking out to keep an eye on the demons outside. “Most of it was knocked over the side of the mountain, so the lobby area seems to still be there. And I don’t see any of the others. I’m hoping none of ’em are dumb enough to just mill around out there and get picked off; if we remembered to meet up at the tower, maybe the others will, too.”

“I guess,” Fross said doubtfully. “But we may have to go out looking for them.”

“We’ll check the tower, and if that doesn’t work out, it’s a relatively sheltered place to make a new plan.”

They crept forward through the jumble of broken furniture, keeping a wary eye on the open front of the building. The buzzing of giant wasp wings filled the air, punctuated by bone-shivering hisses from the nurdrakhaan, but there were no voices from their classmates. Also no screams, which was some comfort at least. Ruda moved in short bursts, from one piece of cover to the next, pausing to gauge the situation at each spot. Fross simply stayed low to the ground.

Then something landed right outside.

Both of them instinctively ducked behind an upturned table, then very carefully peeked back out. They were a good ten yards distant, almost half the width of the building, and it was facing away, but the newness of it compelled caution. Humanoid, it was lean and oddly misshapen, as though its lumpy black skin was pulled too tight in places, twisting it off center.

“Uh oh,” Fross whispered, “it’s not just hiszilisks now; they’re bringing in real forces from across the portal. That’s a hthrynxkh.”

“It’s a fuckin’ what?” Ruda spat. “Naphthene’s tits, what is with these freaks and their names? Does Elilial spend her free time sitting around making up impossible new consonants?”

“Colloquially called a shadowlord,” Fross recited. “Sentient demon, high-caste. Non-caster, but possessing limited inherent camouflage and short-range shadow-jumping abilities. Very durable skin, but not magically resistant like a hethelax, it’s all armor. Stronger than they look, but less agile.”

A second hthrynxkh dropped to the ground next to the first, holding a sword that seemed to be made of something’s jawbone. They conferred momentarily in their harsh language, then the first darted off across the lawn, while the second let out a piercing whistle.

A dozen hiszilisks assembled in front of the shadowlord, which began speaking to them. It sounded angry, but that might have just been the effect of its harsh voice and guttural language.

“Round the back?” Ruda suggested very quietly.

“Round the back,” Fross agreed.

They retreated toward the opposite end of the cafeteria. The windows there looked out over the Golden Sea; one had been shattered by the damage that had wracked the building, but the rest had held, having been enchanted to be far more durable than simple glass. Wind whistled through the opening; directly overhead, hidden by what remained of the roof, the nurdrakhaan hissed again.

They ducked around behind the serving counter into the hallway which ran adjacent to the kitchen, immediately picking up speed now that they were out of sight of the open front of the building. Just as quickly, however, they slowed, coming to a complete stop a few yards from the door that led to a small, walled garden area between the cafeteria and the classroom at the base of the astronomy tower.

“Was that left open before?” Fross asked quietly.

Ruda shrugged, creeping silently forward. The door opened outward; she pressed herself against its frame and leaned gingerly out just enough to peek around the edge.

Another hthrynxkh stood with its back to them, not more than ten feet distant, gesticulating and barking orders at several hiszilisks. At each motion of its arm, one of the flying demons buzzed off, but there were still half a dozen present.

“Fuck,” Ruda muttered, pressing her back against the wall inside the hallway.

“Okay,” Fross said quietly, “that’s out.”

“Hm… You said camouflage and shadow-jumping. How far can they jump?”

“Only a few feet, it’s more for combat maneuvering than travel. Limited, like I said.” The pixie fluttered back down the hall. “Speaking of camouflage, I have a stealth spell. Not true invisibility, is the problem; I don’t think it’ll work here. We’d have to get too close to him to sneak by. Should work on the other side, though, there’s more room to maneuver out there. If we head back to Helion Hall we can go in and look for…I dunno, something. Tellwyrn’s office is in there, she’s bound to have—”

“Hey, asshole!”

Fross chimed in alarm, buzzing back toward the door, through which Ruda had just stepped, drawing her rapier. She came to a stop right before the opening, muttering to herself.

“That surprised me. Why did that surprise me? I’m supposed to be the fast learner here…”


 

Hiszilisks scattered at her passing, but Vadrieny didn’t pause to deal with them. She flitted to the broken-off second floor of the erstwhile astronomy tower, then from there to the spires atop Helion Hall, then to a precarious perch in a swaying elm tree, pausing at each spot to peer around desperately. There was a brief golden flash that suggested Toby or Trissiny in the corner of her vision, but it was gone when she turned to look for it again. Nothing but buzzing demons and the hissing of the nurdrakhaan.

Nowhere a glimpse of silver.

Frantically she took wing again, swatting a particularly slow hiszilisk out of the way, and cut a wide arc over the descending terraces of the campus. Everywhere demons. Not a sign of her classmates. Not a hint of the silver glow of Themynra.

A low groan rose involuntarily in her throat, emerging as a thin keening.

She’s fine, she’ll be fine, Teal said anxiously within her, failing to convince either of them. She’s smart, she’ll get to shelter. There are all kinds of buildings. She knows the campus.

Vadrieny landed too hard on the battlements of Ronald Hall, causing the partial collapse of a stretch of crenelated stone that would have sent Tellwyrn into a towering rage in any other circumstances and would likely pass unnoticed now. The hiszilisks were gleefully causing havoc wherever they landed; they weren’t strong enough to do much to the stone buildings of the campus, but Vadrieny could see small fires in a dozen places, to say nothing of smashed windows and fairy lamps. And that wasn’t even touching the damage to the cafeteria and astronomy tower.

Then her attention was caught by the arrival of more demons.

They were lean black figures whose shapes she recognized immediately. Shadowlords; used by Elilial’s forces as shock troops, but likely to be operating more as guerillas, considering the origin of this particular demon army. At least a score of them were descending onto the campus from the hellgate, each carried downward by two hiszilisks, with more steadily appearing. Several had already landed by the time she noticed them, and were clearly giving directions to the smaller flying demons.

Vadrieny sank her talons into the stone.

“We have to fight.”

Vadrieny…

“Teal,” she said in anguish, “she’s out there. Maybe alone, maybe hurt. These will be setting out to search the campus; they’ll find her. They’ll find her faster than we can, due to sheer numbers.”

Teal was silent inside, radiating terror for Shaeine, and beneath that, deep reluctance at what her other half was suggesting.

“We can’t negotiate with these,” Vadrieny insisted. “Demons only understand force. But they’re bringing in those of higher rank now. If we make our point to them, they may call a retreat.”

We can’t. Please…

“I know,” Vadrieny whispered. “Love, I know. But… She’s out there.”

There was a heartbeat of abject stillness within, then a rush of pure sorrow.

I understand.

The archdemon drew in a breath and let it out slowly through her fangs. “Go deeper inside, Teal. You don’t want to see this.”

No. I’m as responsible as you. I won’t hide.

She found nothing to say, simply sent her a rush of love, which was returned in kind. Both were spiked with fear and remorse.

Then Vadrieny, the last princess of Hell, flared her wings and let out a scream that shattered windows remaining all over the campus.

She launched herself forward, zooming straight at a cluster of four hthrynxkhs, surrounded by a buzzing throng of hiszilisks. Before they could react she had seized the closest in both hands, talons sinking deep into its armored flesh, lifted it up, and tore the creature in half, flinging its pieces away.

Two shadow-jumped a few feet back from her, raising weapons; the third actually dropped its obsidian knife, raising both hands.

“Wait! I surr—”

A swipe of her claws ripped its head clean off, sending the remainder of its body tumbling end-over end across the lawn.

The surrounding hiszilisks shot away in all directions, desperately putting space between themselves and the raging archdemon.

The last two shadowlords were still shadow-jumping in retreat, but they could go only so far at a time. It was only seconds before Vadrieny got her claws on one, sinking them deep into its ribs and dragging it closer.

“You don’t surrender!” she screamed directly into the flailing demon’s face. “This is my world! You leave, OR YOU DIE!”

She tossed it straight up into the air, seized it by one of its ankles, and set about swatting hiszilisks out of the sky with the still-shrieking hthrynxkh. Only for a few moments, though; the hiszilisks were a mere distraction. Spotting another shadowlord, Vadrieny dived at it talons-first, screaming a challenge.

Deep inside her, Teal watched it all in silence.


 

The nurdrakhaan hissed its displeasure, trying to flick her off with its fin, which didn’t quite reach. Trissiny, gritting her teeth, braced one booted foot into the corner of its jaw, where the edges of its beak didn’t quite close, gripped her sword firmly with her right hand, and with her left, punched it hard in its lowest eye.

The beast hissed like never before, thrashing up and down in midair. For a moment she thought she was about to be shaken loose, but her sword held in the groove in its facial armor left by one of Vadrieny’s claws, and she actually managed to wrap the fingers of her other hand around the lower edge of its eye socket.

That, needless to say, made it even madder.

Bucking up and down, and then from side to side, it failed to dislodge her, though in those tense moments the simple act of hanging on consumed the entirety of Trissiny’s attention.

She was beginning to have second thoughts about this idea.

Failing to remove the pest that way, the nurdrakhaan changed tactics. Its flight leveled out; the smoother motion gave her a much needed moment to gather her bearings. She lifted her head, chancing a peek forward at its course, discovering at the last possible second that they were diving straight toward a very familiar sight.

Trissiny wreathed herself in a golden shield, pouring every iota of power she could summon into it; the sphere cut right into the armored face of the nudrakhaan, prompting an enraged hiss, but did not dissuade it in the slightest. She ducked her face against its steaming carapace, tightening her grip as best she could, and shielded so fervently she could feel the beginnings of heat in every nerve, as the monster smashed face-first into the stone bridge connecting the campus to Clarke Tower.

It was a split-second’s utter chaos; the impact jarred her, both physically and in the auric senses connecting her to the golden shield. For a moment, she couldn’t even be sure which way was up.

A moment later, she opened her eyes to discover that “up” was precisely where they were going. The bridge plummeted in fragments toward the plain below, the tower spinning slowly as it drifted off into space. Then she could spare no more attention for the wreckage that had been her home for most of the year.

Her sword had worked itself loose in the impact; both her boots had been knocked free. She clung to the nurdrakhaan’s eye socket with the fingers of her left hand, flailing with both feet to regain purchase as it arced around upward, ascending straight toward the hellgate.

Going through that, she reflected, would be less than ideal.

Before she could get a firm grip, however, the nurdrakhaan shook itself again, more violently this time, and suddenly she was gripping nothing. Trissiny tumbled head-over-boots through the sky, hurled almost straight upward, the slight arch of her flight probably not even enough to send her off the mountain.

Or such was the best she could figure; no amount of martial training had prepared her to keep her wits under conditions like these.

Light flared as her shield snapped reflexively back into place; golden wings stretched outward behind her, stabilizing her descent.

She had barely a second to realize she was plummeting straight toward the open maw of the nurdrakhaan, rushing up to meet her.

Trissiny kicked backward, adjusting her body at the last possible second to be sure to meet it sword-first.


 

“No!” Toby shouted impotently as the glowing light of his fellow paladin winked out above the monster’s head.

“Hrrash k’vankhthrazk! Hkhaasha vnarr!”

He whirled at the voice, finding himself being approached by three shadowlords, the nearest leveling a spear at his heart. It had an obsidian head, the haft made from what was unmistakably something’s leg bone, despite being black. The creature holding it looked twisted, misshapen, its scaly hide worked into uneven ridges and lumps as if it didn’t fit properly over its lopsided frame.

“No,” he whispered again.

Black, leathery lips drew back over yellowed fangs in a mocking grin, and it drew back its spear to strike.

Toby’s eyes narrowed to slits, and he bared his own teeth.

“No.”

The spear plunged forward. He caught it just behind the head, spinning, and yanked the demon forward into its own thrust. As it staggered past, he stepped neatly out of its path, wrenching the weapon from its grasp, and thrust the butt of the spear between its legs, twisting and sending it tumbling to the ground.

The two behind it charged him.

Toby flared alight with golden power, causing both demons to hiss and stumble, closing their eyes against the glare. The Sun Style didn’t favor offensive strikes, but it was the work of seconds to sweep the legs out from under one and tip the other over backward.

All this had drawn extra attention, however. The first hthrynxkh had regained its feet and was circling him warily; two more, armed with weapons of obsidian and bone, were dashing toward him. Worse, a sizable swarm of hiszilisks was assembling. They seemed to be holding off for the moment, perhaps to give the shadowlords their prerogative to strike first.

“This is not your world,” he said, hearing the snarl in his own voice and not hating it as much as he should. “This realm belongs to the gods. I will not have this…this barbarism.”

The nearest hthrynxkh snarled and lunged; Toby jabbed it straight between the eyes with the butt of the spear, knocking it to the ground, senseless. It was the most brutal strike he had ever performed against a living being.

“I will not have you here!” he roared, twirling the spear overhead and slamming it point-first into the ground in front of him. The light rose in his aura, first blinding the nearby demons, then pushing them physically back while they shrieked in protest, some beginning to smoke.

“I. Will have! PEACE!”

It was as if the sun rose where he stood.

Golden light burned with such an intensity that even he couldn’t see. Demons screamed, steamed and tumbled backward, but couldn’t move fast enough to escape; there was no outrunning light. It rose all around, flaring outward with kinetic force the blasted the grass flat in all directions.

Toby could feel the burning at the edge of his consciousness, knew what it heralded, and didn’t care.

But before it could grow worse, the light just as suddenly winked out.

It seemed he should have been blinded by it, but he stood, not even blinking, in a clear space in front of the smashed cafeteria. A few shards of obsidian lay on the ground nearby, even the bone and sinew to which they had been attached gone now; it had been demonic in origin, too. The shadowlords and hiszilisks were gone; even the corpses piled up from the party’s earlier confrontation had vanished. There was only ash, dancing on the wind.


 

Gabriel’s attempts to climb back onto the uppermost terrace had only attracted more hiszilisks to him. His wand had kept them at bay for a while, but he hadn’t found where the other one had fallen when he’d been thrown by the nurdrakhaan’s impact, and now he wasn’t even sure where he was. The demons had quickly figured out that he could only shoot at one of them at a time, and it was easy enough to get behind someone who had no one left to watch his back. He found it very difficult to navigate with three wolf-sized demons actually climbing on him.

He flailed, staggered, managed to shoot himself in the shoulder in his efforts to get them off, and succeeded in dislodging one. Mostly by pure luck, he shot another dead as it attempted to zoom in to fill the recently opened space. Past the jumble of legs and wings clinging to him, he spied a tree, and lurched toward it.

Spiny legs pinned his left arm to his size and mandibles pinched at him in two places, but for all their tenacity, these creatures didn’t have the magic it would take to actually pierce his skin. That magic would have killed them even faster than it would him. He wasn’t as utterly screwed in this situation as most of his friends would have been, but he was still not in control.

He managed to reach the small copse of trees, one of which had been uprooted and knocked over somehow, and turned, slamming his back against the trunk of an oak. The hiszilisk clinging to him from behind screamed in protest. Gabriel stepped forward and bashed it again, and then a third time, until it finally let go.

He managed to turn, aim, and shoot it through the chest before it could get up.

Then the one climbing on him on the front bit him right on the crotch.

Howling in outrage, Gabriel leveled his wand at it, then thought twice.

In that moment of hesitation, its tail lashed forward, the stinger driving right into his eye.

Even his soft tissue wasn’t vulnerable to physical damage, but it definitely wasn’t impervious to pain. That was the last straw.

The roar that tore itself from his throat was no longer human. He whirled, flailing furiously and peppering the entire area with wandshots. Beams of light arced out in all directions, actually driving back the swarm. Eyes totally black, roaring and snarling, Gabriel quite by chance laid his free hand on the hilt of the sword hanging at his waist. Purely on instinct, he ripped it free of its sheath and hacked at the creature clinging to him.

He had it off in seconds, but didn’t stop there. While the hiszilisks twitched and squealed, he pummeled it artlessly with both the sword and his wand, which was still spewing wild bolts of power. He slashed, bludgeoned and blasted for nearly a minute until he was assaulting little more than a black smear and scattered chunks of smoldering meat, before finally pausing to look around.

At some point, the remaining hiszilisks had decided to seek less deranged prey. He was alone.

The half-demon planted one foot on the fallen tree, brandished both weapons in the air, and let out a wordless roar of triumph.

“All right, that is enough of that.”

Suddenly, impossibly, the sword twisted in his grip, its blade flaring bright white. It plunged straight downward, stabbing through his foot and pinning him to the tree.

He was too shocked even to scream.

“You are completely out of control, boy, and your allies are scattered to the wind. I’d be content to leave you to your fate, but I will not be carted back to Hell as some kind of trophy. Centuries down in that wretched hole were bad enough. So against my better judgment, I am going to help you, hellblood. Now, let’s see what we have to work with.”

Gabriel clutched the sword’s handle, frantically trying to pull it out of his foot, grunting and snarling with each jerk. He might as well have been trying to pick himself up by the hair for all the progress he made. All the while, and though his berserking mind made little sense of it, the voice carried on in his ears.

“Ah, an enchanter. Not a good one, but it’s something. A cleric would be better, though obviously that’s not possible for you… An arcanist can’t do much with infernal magic, but the infernal can take power from the arcane. Hm, you can’t actually use that power, though, can you? Ah, part hethelax, I see. Well, perhaps there’s a workaround we can use.”

Desperately, he fired a furious salvo of wandshots at the sword, succeeding in drilling holds in the log, blasting his own shoe to fragments and not so much as singeing the leather wrapping its hilt.

“We can’t use your aura to power your spells, but vice versa? Ah, yes, the problem is you lack cognitive control over your infernal nature. It comes out as this…imbecilic carrying on you’re doing right now. Shuts off the brain completely. This you can’t do anything about, it’s a venting mechanism; if we blocked it you’d be overwhelmed by your own aura and likely combust or something. But we can change the way it vents. Ah, yes, I see how it can be done. I’m using your own skills, of course; I’m no arcanist. You could have figured this out yourself if you weren’t so afraid of your own nature. But perhaps that’s wise of you. Oh, stop that,” the voice added in disgust as he leaned forward and gnawed on the sword’s handle. “You’re like a dog, even more than most humans. Right, I’m going to use your own stored arcane energy to effect a small change in the connection between your aura and genetic code. This is the most fundamental essence of your self we’re playing with, here, so I imagine this will hurt quite a lot.”

In the next second, he completely forgot about the sword pinning his foot.

Pain subsumed every inch of Gabriel’s body, and then clawed its way into his mind, and into something which lay beyond that, beyond what he could have found words for even had he been capable of words at that moment.

He arched his back, thrashing and heaving helplessly with the throes of agony, howling at the sky. His whole body twisted, tensing and twitching against itself in existential protest. His eyes, black and fathomless, bulged so wide they seemed on the verge of popping out entirely.

And then, for just a moment, they flared orange.

Fire raged across his vision, then just as quickly subsided, and Gabriel straightened up, blinking.

Confused, he looked around, taking stock. His clothes were ripped in dozens of places and his left shoe was a ragged, scorched mess about to fall off. Only the enchanted green coat Tellwyrn had given him seemed to have survived undamaged. But…survived what?

The memory wasn’t there. He’d been swamped by demons… Which were now gone. He still had the wand in his right hand, and the black sword in his left. There was the faint memory of a voice talking to him from a great distance, but it flittered away like a barely-remembered dream when he tried to focus on it.

He swiveled in place, staring around. Demons were everywhere, gleefully wrecking the campus. Neither that nor his confusion over what had transpired in the last few minutes could hold his attention, however; he could feel pressure building up inside himself, as if something in his core was burning, growing hotter and causing him to expand beyond the volume he could safely hold. Flames licked at the edges of his vision.

Suddenly, understanding clicked into place. He took aim with the wand, and a beam of pure orange fire, pencil thin and intense enough to melt stone, blazed out. Deftly, he cut a rapid zig-zagging pattern through an approaching cluster of hiszilisks, and a second later, they were tumbling to the earth in scorched pieces.

Gabriel lowered his wand, awed. He understood. It was the berserking, the defense mechanism that hethelaxi had evolved against infernal corruption, channeling the hellfire in his blood in a way that didn’t drive him mad or destroy his body. Except it was channeled further now, somehow reaching through the pathways he used to access arcane magic. It still raged in him; it still demanded an outlet. He had to spend this power or it would overwhelm him again, taking away his ability to think. But he could spend it now.

Had he done this on instinct, somehow? He would never have voluntarily gone messing around with his own nature that way. Any enchanter knew better than to try to enchant himself; in the history of magic, that had led to a handful of towering successes and thousands of horrific tragedies.

Whatever the reason, it was done, and he hadn’t the luxury of standing around in introspection. Hellfire raged in him, demanding an outlet.

Gabriel stalked forward, channeling his inner fire through the black enchanter wand and laying waste to any hiszilisks which buzzed too close to him. He could control it far more finely than the wand’s native power, creating walls and spirals of fire, even directing fireballs that chased after their targets. All the while, he peered around, taking stock, his thoughts driven forward with the same frantic energy that fueled his magic.

The nurdrakhaan was hissing and flailing about high above; he dismissed that for the moment as it didn’t seem interested in him. He couldn’t see any of his friends… This was a disaster. None of them could last long alone.

Then a screaming streak of fire flashed past overhead. Gabriel stopped, his eyes tracking her path. She dived down onto a fleeing shadowlord and in seconds was airborne again, leaving her prey in pieces partially ground into the dirt. He could see evidence of several such attacks in the near distance.

Vadrieny soared back out overhead, and he calmly leveled his wand, directing a bolt of power straight into her path.

The fireball exploded on impact, sending the archdemon tumbling skyward. She recovered her balance in midair, screaming in fury, and dived straight down at him.

At the last second she adjusted her flight so as not to hit directly, landing hard enough to crack the pavement before him.

“Have you lost your mind?!” Vadrieny howled into his face.

“HAVE YOU LOST YOURS?!” he roared right back at her. The archdemon actually reared back, momentarily shocked into silence. Gabriel didn’t give her a moment to recover. “You’re flailing around killing them one by one! What do you think that’s going to accomplish? There are hundreds, and more keep coming! We have to assemble our friends before they’re picked off!”

“I am trying to keep them safe!” she shot back. “We have to drive the demons back—”

“You aren’t driving anything anywhere! Stop for a moment and think. They started with shock troops, then sent more dangerous ones. Eventually someone important will come through. We need to get him when he lands, and not just kill him but control him, and for that we need the group back together!”

“I can’t find them!”

“Then let them find us!” He thrust his wand skyward, letting loose a geyser of pure hellfire, venting off the pressure had had been building up during the conversation. Vadrieny took a step back, looking warily up at the gout of molten energy. “You’re a living fireball; the others can see you clearly. They’d have grouped up on you already if you would quit flying around! Get back aloft and stay in a holding pattern above me while I make my way back to the cafeteria lawn. Watch for Toby, Trissiny and Shaeine; you’ll see their magic as easily as they’ll see ours. We’ll gather whoever’s there to meet us and then find the rest, and then we will deal with the asshole behind this bullshit when he shows his face.”

Vadrieny blinked her glowing eyes. “That’s…actually a really good—”

“Go!” he bellowed, pointing skyward again. To the surprise of both of them, she did, shooting upward and settling into a glide above him, circling like a vulture while he stalked up the stairs to the next terrace, lashing out with his wand at any hiszilisk that came near.

They reached the lawn just in time to be momentarily blinded by an impossible corona of golden light. Gabriel paused, shielding his eyes until it subsided, then blinked at the lone figure standing in front of the wrecked cafeteria amid a swirl of ash.

“All right,” he said to himself with a grin. “That’s two.”

He set off toward Toby with long strides, wand at the ready and Ariel still hanging from his hand, forgotten.

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7 – 5

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The scene at the central Rail station in Calderaas was one of orderly chaos, a familiar sight to those who had lived through well-mannered disasters. In accordance with the Imperial proclamation freezing Rail travel, the station was emptied of its normal clientele and much of its normal staff. With the throngs of travelers gone, the cavernous space turned out to have ample room for the refugees from Last Rock, though they were huddled uncomfortably close together in some cases.

Imperial personnel moved rapidly about, mostly civilians from the Ministry of the Interior in suits and dresses, distinct from the townsfolk chiefly by their silver gryphon badges and brisk manner. Uniformed soldiers carrying staves were posted at the entrances and windows and strategically throughout the station, keeping watch; more of them, sans weapons, had been put to work helping to shift cargo. For the most part, the townsfolk were admirably calm and orderly. The frontier bred hardy people more inclined to work than to complain, and the proximity to the University had taught these particular souls a degree of comfort with the unexpected. Nonetheless, there were raised voices, minor scuffles and the odd backup of traffic as someone misunderstood directions or refused to follow them. Clerics were moving through the crowd, mostly Universal Church parsons, Omnist monks and several Izarites, helping to keep people calm and seeing to whatever needs they found.

The townsfolk were being settled into hastily-cleared offices and storage warehouses, with several in tents erected along the wider thoroughfares and main lobby, while the students were being set up along the platforms suspended above the actual Rail lines. Imperial officers, familiar with the handling of upset civilians in a crisis, had taken one look at the two groups and promptly separated them. Even now, with distance and casually wandering soldiers between them, a lot of the townspeople were directing angry looks and mutters at the students. Even aside from the general presumption that the University was responsible for whatever nonsense befell the town, there were more than a few Rockies intelligent enough to do the arithmetic on the situation and deduce that a student, or students, had to be personally responsible for the hellgate. By this point, that awareness had sifted through the entire population, and even some of the more laid-back citizens were growing irate. The usual run of University tomfoolery was one thing, but they’d now been separated from their homes and were facing the possibility of having no homes to which to return. The priests had a full job maintaining calm.

Professors were helping with that. They moved among the students, keeping order better than the Imperials could (apparently enough of the Interior personnel were acquainted with college students to know not to try clamping down on them), and also speaking with the civilians. University staff grew to be more familiar to the folk of Last Rock than students, simply by virtue of having more time to get to know them. Most were liked, at least to an extent, and they had a measure of trust accumulated which was paying off in this situation.

Nobody was under the delusion that this was a long-term solution. Apart from the simple sanitary concerns of having that many people in a confined space, the simmering tensions would only get worse the longer people were kept in such a tight situation. It was just a matter of time until someone lashed out, one way or another, and that raised the very real possibility of an escalating conflict. In theory, it should all be resolved one way or another within two days, but the Ministry of the Interior was already drawing up a resettlement plan for the refugees. So far, only some of the senior University faculty and the mayor and Sheriff of Last Rock had been informed of this, on the reasoning that seriously discussing the possible destruction of the town would only escalate tensions. For the time being, everyone was focusing on tending to the needs of the refugees and keeping calm and order among them.

“YOU WHAT?”

Almost everyone.

Professor Tellwyrn stood nose-to-nose with a man whose Army uniform bore a captain’s stripes below a Strike Corps insignia; he stared back at her with remarkable calm considering the situation.

“We are not embarking for Last Rock, or anywhere else,” the captain said patiently. Behind him, the three other members of his strike team stood in relaxed postures that belied the cold stares they all directed at Tellwyrn. A second strike team stood off to the side, having casually arranged themselves into a staggered diamond formation that gave them all a direct line of sight at the Professor, placing their warlock at the head of the group and the cleric in the back.

“Tell me that again,” Tellwyrn hissed. “This time, speak slowly and use small words, as I appear to have gone completely insane. There is no other possible explanation for what I thought I just heard.”

“The orders are directly from the Emperor. Forces are being dispatched from Tiraas, and as I just said, Professor, all other details are classified. I couldn’t tell you more even if I knew more.”

“Do you?”

He smiled thinly. “That’s also classified.”

“That’s nonsense!” she barked. “Calderaas is the provincial capital and the established staging area. There is no reason to re-route resources from Tiraas, hundreds of miles south, when there are soldiers, zeppelins and strike teams here!”

“I am confident that his Majesty knows what he is doing,” the captain said calmly.

“Maybe I should go ask him,” Tellwyrn snorted, taking a step back.

Immediately, a faint buzz of arcane energy sprang up around all eight Strike Corps members, along with a small but noticeable increase in the ambient temperature and a golden glow wreathing the two clerics. Both fae magic users slipped hands into their coat pockets.

“Be extremely careful, Professor,” warned the captain quietly. “That was uncomfortably close to a threat to the Emperor.”

“Boy,” she said disdainfully, “do you really imagine I’m impressed by—”

“Do you imagine I am?” he shot back. “Yes, yes, we know, big bad Arachne can bring this whole place down around all our heads. Either do it or pipe down and behave yourself, lady. There’s a crisis going on, if you haven’t noticed, and nobody has time for your grandstanding. The Empire is handling this. You will be informed of anything you need to know.”

Behind him, the priestess in his team sighed heavily and shook her head. The warlock next to her grinned.

Tellwyrn regarded the captain with a curious expression for a moment before opening her mouth to speak again.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

“Oh, what now,” Tellwyrn muttered, turning her back on the Strike Corps to seek out the new disturbance.

She stalked through the informal blockade of soldiers, none of whom moved close enough to make that difficult, to the platforms where the student groups were being organized. A mixed gaggle of sophomores and freshmen were clustered together, confronted by Janis van Richter, who was scarlet-faced and hyperventilating with a mixture of panic and fury.

As Tellwyrn arrived, Professor Yornhaldt emerged from the crowd in response to the noise, several other faculty members and a couple of Imperial Marshals gravitating over behind him.

“Janis,” Tellwyrn said sharply, “what is the—”

“Look!” Janis shrieked, reaching out to grab Ruda by the shoulder. Her hand passed straight through, eliciting no reaction from the girl. Next to her, Tanq and Natchua exchanged a nervous glance.

Tellwyrn halted, frowned, and pushed her spectacles up her nose, peering at the students through rather than over them. Her expression immediately grew an order of magnitude more angry. She held up one hand and snapped her fingers.

Instantly, the entire freshman class dissolved in a clatter of sparks and falling objects. Smoke drifted up from the wreckage of charred enchanting components now lying inert on the metal platform. The one exception was Fross, who immediately veered sideways and went shooting drunkenly off over the Rail tracks. In seconds, she lost cohesion and dissolved in a blur of mist.

“Wh—that—they—“ Professor Yornhaldt clapped a hand to his forehead. “I didn’t even— Arachne, I’m afraid I must immediately tender my resignation on the grounds that I have become a senile old fool.”

“Oh, shut up, Alaric,” she growled. “If I expected you to match wits with duplicitous teenagers I’d have to pay you better. What’s more to the point is they could not have done this alone; eight illusionary kids boarding a caravan would have drawn some notice.” She tilted her head down, glaring at the members of the sophomore class now standing around the destroyed golems. “Unless someone was covering for them.”

“The Hand of Avei has a calling, and an obligation to face the demons,” November said stridently. “It’s an honor to be of service to her in that!” She was only present because a caravan with a special safety harness had been found to carry her, and was now (much to her irritation) confined to a wheeled chair with a heavy lap quilt on Miss Sunrunner’s orders.

Beside her, Natchua shrugged, folded her arms and looked away. “If the froshes all want to get killed, I respect their choices.”

“Wait, wait, stop,” said Chase, his eyes wide. His lower lip started to tremble dramatically. “You man…that wasn’t really them? D-does this mean me and Trissiny aren’t getting married?” November shot him a filthy look.

“Those. Little. Shits.” Tellwryn hissed.

Behind her, Professor Ezzaniel cleared his throat. “It’s not like that group to do something so dangerous without a specific reason, Arachne. Considering the situation, I suspect Omnu and Avei are directly behind this.”

“Who did you think I was talking about?” she snarled, whirling and stalking away up the platform.

There was a clatter and a fountain of sparks as the connector between the Rail driver car and the compartment immediately behind it severed. Instantly, the entire empty caravan fell onto the Rail itself with a tremendous crash that brought people running from all directions. Except the driver car, which floated up into the air, turning completely around as it drifted back past the wrecked caravan and settled gently onto the Rail, facing back the way it had come.

Immediately, its hatch swung outward and a shaken-looking Imperial enchanter leaned out. “What in Omnu’s flaming name—?”

“Change of plans!” Tellwyrn said, stomping up to him. “This car is going back to Last Rock. Now. Out.”

“I’ve received no such orders,” he blustered.

“You just did, boy,” she snapped. “Get out of the car before I have to get you out.”

“Now see here!” He drew himself up fully, which was quite impressive as he was still leaning awkwardly forward out of the hatch. “The Imperial Rails answer to no one but his Majesty! If you think for one moment—”

“Driver!” a voice shouted from the near distance. The crowd of nervous onlookers parted, disgorging three Imperial soldiers with Private Moriarty at their head, pointing imperiously at the enchanter. “A further crisis has developed. On the authority of his Imperial Majesty I am commandeering this vehicle. I’ll need you to step out, please.”

“Oh, well,” he hemmed, glancing back into his compartment. “I guess if that’s—eep!” The enchanter staggered, barely catching his balance as Tellwyrn tugged him out onto the platform.

“Good work,” she said curtly, pausing just inside to point at the trio. “You three! Get in here, I may need some warm bodies to throw at a problem.”

“Well, if you’re gonna sweet talk us, I guess we have no choice,” Rook drawled, ambling forward.

It was crowded with four of them in the compartment. The three soldiers pressed themselves back onto the padded bench along its rear wall, groping for the provided handholds, of which there were not enough for all of them.

“Ugh, what is this?” Tellwyrn growled, yanking the hatch shut and glaring at the runic console. “What a mess. I told them to keep the controls simple. What does this even do?” She prodded a bank of symbols and immediately the Rail beneath them began to glow blue, humming furiously and emitting odd sparks. “Oh, I see. Well, that’s handy, needed that anyway. What are you leering at?” she demanded, turning her head to look at Rook, whose insane grin had been reflected on the inside of the windscreen.

“Moriarty broke a rule!” he crowed.

“The exalted rank of private doesn’t give us the authority to commandeer anything,” Finchley added. “Especially Imperial property.”

“An Imperial Rail driver wouldn’t yield his assigned place under any threat,” Moriarty huffed, folding his arms. “And he was standing between Arachne Tellwyrn and what she wanted. I just saved that man’s life.”

“You are rapidly becoming my favorite, Moriarty,” Tellwyrn said, turning back to the controls. She flicked her fingers across two runes and grasped a lever.

“Oh, gods,” he groaned, and that was as far as he got before she pulled the lever.

The car shot forward like a bolt of lightning, accelerating faster and far less smoothly than Rail caravans were meant to. Within seconds, they were outside the city and rounding the first gentle curve, smashing the three men into the wall and eliciting a chorus of screams. Tellwyrn gripped the lever and a hanging strap, balancing upright without apparent difficulty.

“For heaven’s sake, cut out that racket,” she snapped. “Let me concentrate! I’ve got about ten minutes to figure out how to stop this thing.”

For some reason, that didn’t seem to help.


 

“Did you see them go?” Ruda asked as the girls stepped onto the bridge toward the main campus from Clarke Tower. After months of making the trip, they barely gave the frightening drop a glance.

“Fross came to collect us,” Shaeine replied. “We were not attending the window at the time, but I gather it is confirmed? We are alone on campus?”

“Oh ho,” Ruda said, waggling her eyebrows. “And what were you attending—”

“Somehow that was the first time I’ve watched a Rail caravan depart from the vantage of our room,” Trissiny interrupted her. “It was a surprisingly awesome sight. Makes me feel like I’ve wasted opportunities all these months to see it happen. You just don’t appreciate how fast those things move when you’re inside one.”

“On the inside you mostly appreciate how roughly they move,” Teal said with a grin.

“Well, it’s not like you can just sit at your window waiting for it,” Juniper said reasonably. “Last Rock is only barely on the regular stop roster, and most the time nobody’s coming here, much less leaving. The caravans don’t come around all that often.”

“How do you know that?” Ruda asked.

The dryad shrugged. “I read, I talk to people. It’s not exactly a secret.”

“I thought the plan was to meet up on the cafeteria lawn,” Trissiny said as they reached the gate to the main campus and found Toby and Gabriel there waiting.

“Yes, well, we decided to surprise you,” said Toby with a smile. “Purely out of concern for your well-being and not at all because this place is unbearably creepy when it’s deserted.”

“It’s hard to tell,” Gabe added, “but I think it would be even without… You know.” He pointed skyward, and they all paused to look up.

The wispy spiral of clouds had, over the last hour, grown to a huge thunderhead, twisted into a slowly rotating vortex and casting a shadow over the mountain, the town and their surroundings. There were no other clouds in the sky, as if all had been drawn to the hellgate. As the sun was falling and the sky reddening, a sickly orange glow illuminated the clouds. It might have been a natural result of the sunset, except that it was too faint, and the way it reflected on the swirls of vapor made it plain that the source was at the center of the spiral. There was no thunder, no sound of any kind, but flashes occurred periodically among the clouds, like distant lighting, except an ominous red in color.

“Might as well get over there, anyway,” said Fross. “I don’t know how much difference it’ll make, but…that’s where the center of it is.”

“Yeah,” Trissiny agreed, nodding, and set out on the path toward the cafeteria. The rest fell into step with her.

“Arquin, just what the fuck do you think you’re doing with that thing?” Ruda demanded.

Gabriel placed a hand protectively on the hilt of the black sword hanging at his side. “Well, considering what we’re up against… I figured it was best to be as prepared as possible.”

“Being prepared means knowing how to use the weapons you have,” she snorted. “You’re prepared to cut your damn foot off.”

“It doesn’t cut me,” he said, scowling. “I checked.”

“Yeah, way to really hone in on the important point there.”

“Gabriel has been training with the sword,” said Trissiny, “with my help. He’s making progress.”

“Really?” Ruda raised her eyebrows. “Well, damn. Color me impressed.”

“I do what I can,” Gabriel said with blatantly false modesty.

“Progress,” Trissiny clarified, “in this case meaning that I trust him, barely, not to harm himself more than an enemy. I’m a lot less confident about him swinging that thing around while the rest of us are standing nearby. Please stick to the wands, Gabe.”

“I was planning to anyway,” he said with a sigh.

“Why do you even still have that?” Fross asked. “I thought you were gonna have the spells on it analyzed. Somehow it seems like Tellwyrn would have made you get rid of it.”

“Which is why I didn’t take it to Tellwyrn,” he said, winking at her. “I showed it to Professor Yornhaldt; he said it’s very old and was clearly the work of an archmage or something similar.”

“That’s it?” Teal asked. “No word on what the spells actually do?”

“He couldn’t tell. Apparently they’re extremely complicated and very tightly woven together, or…something. It got a bit technical for me; I learned some new terms to look up but even so I never did follow the whole thing. But no, he said to really understand what the magic was supposed to do, he’d have to start unraveling the enchantments on it, which would probably ruin them. He did suggest I could probably sell it to a collector for a good sum, or even turn it into the Empire for a bounty. Apparently the government likes to take powerful magical artifacts out of circulation whenever possible.”

“And yet…there it still is,” Toby noted.

Gabriel shrugged, looking self-conscious; he touched the hilt again, lightly brushing his fingers over it. “It’s… I dunno. It just didn’t feel right. It’s almost like I rescued her, y’know?”

Ruda snorted. “Her?”

“Well, Ariel’s a girl’s name, right?”

“I’m a little more concerned with the fact that you’re carrying a weapon loaded down with extremely powerful spells and you don’t even know what they do,” Trissiny said, turning to glance at him as they walked. “I wish you’d just left it in your room, Gabriel. Failing that, please leave it in the sheath. We are assuredly not going to need extra sources of trouble tonight.”

“Yes, General,” he grumped.

They walked in silence the rest of the way to the lawn, and by unspoken design formed into a loose circle outside the broken cafeteria windows, gazing upward. Silent lightning flickered through the clouds. It was subtle, but distinct: the flashes were coming more regularly now.

“It will be all right,” said Toby quietly. “This isn’t an accident. The gods sent us here; they have a plan.”

“Yup,” said Ruda, unconsciously gripping the jeweled hilt of her rapier. “I’m just hoping the plan isn’t ‘these paladins suck, let’s waste ’em and get new ones.’”

Everyone turned to look at her, wide-eyed.

“No,” Trissiny said solemnly. “Omnu would never do such a thing.”

The tension abated just like that; Toby actually had to clap a hand over his mouth to stifle a burst of laughter.

“I’m telling her you said that,” Ruda said with a grin, lightly punching her roommate’s shoulder.

“By all means, do,” Trissiny replied, smiling. “That’s a conversation I would dearly love to see.”

“Guys,” Gabriel said tersely. “Look.”

They saw them just barely before they heard them. They started as tiny black specks, pouring out from the center of the maelstrom, but in the quiet, the sound of buzzing immediately became audible…and then, grew. Figures continued to stream out, still too distant to be distinct, but swarming ever closer to the ground. Dozens of them, scores… Quickly, though they were uncountable in their multitudes, it became clear they numbered in the hundreds, at least. As they came, the sound of buzzing wings grew ever more insistent.

“Just so we’re clear,” Trissiny said grimly, “nobody minds if I kill these, right?”

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6 – 25

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“Good morning,” Shaeine said, approaching. “Approximately, perhaps.”

Toby gave her a smile, glancing around the chamber. The group had huddled together near its center, around the remains of their fire, which had burned down to a small patch of slowly shifting orange light. Fross was making a gradual circuit of the perimeter, likely out of boredom, unless she was investigating the Crawl’s inherent magic. She’d seemed relieved for the opportunity to move about when Toby had come to take her post at the front, watching the door to the complex.

“I’m a little charged up,” he admitted. “I gave up on getting back to sleep after lying awake for an hour or so.”

The priestess glided over to stand beside him, glancing at the door before turning to regard him seriously. “You are troubled.”

Toby hesitated, then shook his head. “It’s…I’ll get over it. I’m just…wondering, suddenly, how many murderers there are in my social circle. It’s a little disconcerting, being in a position where I need to wonder that.”

She gave him the ghost of a smile. “Since you seemed quite supportive of Juniper, may I assume this is about Trissiny and Gabriel?”

He sighed. “I would rather drop it. It’s really not fair of me to be dragging all this up. I mean, it was months ago, they’re obviously over it, so what’s the point? It’s just… Well, it’s a new revelation to me. Kind of a heck of a thing to wrap my head around. Especially,” he added somewhat bitterly, “since nobody told me the truth about what happened.”

They were silent for a moment, watching the empty doorway side by side.

“Clerics of Themynra serve a judicial role in Narisian society,” she said at last. “I am years yet from being authorized to render judgment in an actual case, but my training has included the necessary skills, or at least the basics thereof. As someone thus trained, and who witnessed the event in question, perhaps I can offer you some clarity on the matter? If you wish it.”

He nodded, slowly. “Actually… I think that would help. I respect your judgment more than almost anyone’s, Shaeine.”

She smiled more broadly for a moment, then her expression grew serious again. “I don’t know the approach taken by Imperial law or Avei’s disciples, but in my culture we analyze every identifiable factor influencing a case before rendering judgment, which includes the education and known predispositions of those involved. To take the fight in question as an example…if this had occurred in Tar’naris, how the investigation would proceed might depend greatly on which House the accused hailed from. Had a member of my own House acted as Trissiny did, she would likely be held summarily culpable, as it would be assumed that a diplomat would know better than to start a fight. Had it been someone from House An’sadarr, which forms the backbone of the Queen’s military, however, matters would become more complicated. A trained warrior, confronted by a hostile demonblood, might understandably resort to force.”

“So…ignorance is an excuse?” he said skeptically.

“No. It is, however, sometimes an explanation.” Shaeine glanced back at the others; none of their forms were stirring, and Fross’s silver light was poking through one of the distant wings of the chamber which had formed an infinite hall when it was active. “I see no doubt that Trissiny instigated violence without justification. In determining culpability, though, it’s necessary to consider what she did not understand, and what Gabriel did.”

“What he understood?” Toby frowned.

“Recall that at the time, they hardly knew each other. All Trissiny knew about Gabriel was that he was a demonblood, something of a loudmouth and had a penchant for slightly sexist humor. Given that and her upbringing, her actions seem a bit more logical. Not justifiable, in my opinion, but also not totally unreasonable. Especially considering that she had previously not instigated a conflict with him, despite the surprise of learning his condition in a manner that was traumatic for them both.”

“Hm,” he said noncommittally.

“Gabriel, on the other hand, has grown up as a half-demon in Tiraan society, and has every reason to keep his head down and refrain from causing trouble. He has ample practice at this, and was very well aware of the likely consequences of doing so. Yet, he very deliberately provoked Trissiny, showing a degree of hostility which, frankly, was wildly out of character for him. I had never seen such aggression from him before, nor have I since.” She half-turned to look up at him, her expression solemn. “I have wondered, since… Toby, you know Gabriel better than any of us. Has he ever given any indication, before, that he wished to die?”

Toby made no answer, but his face lengthened and his eyes grew wider as he considered the implications of the question.

“Verbally assaulting the Hand of Avei as he did had that as a very likely outcome,” Shaeine continued after a short pause. “Moreover, his comments in the situation itself indicated that he was quite aware of this.” She shook her head. “Ultimately, then, Trissiny’s offense was several orders of magnitude more severe: the use of force against a civilian who was not a physical threat. However, given her perspective, there are mitigating factors. Gabriel’s role is precisely opposite: his is guilty of nothing more serious than rudeness and causing a disturbance, but is almost entirely culpable for creating that conflict in the first place. A conflict which was needless and which he clearly knew was likely to result in harm to himself, and possibly to bystanders and property.”

She let the silence hang momentarily before continuing. “Ultimately… Had I been tasked with judging this case, at the time, I would have punished them both equally, and with far worse than washing dishes. And… As time has passed, I have come to appreciate Professor Tellwyrn’s solution. Mine would have been a tremendous mistake.”

Toby turned to face her, raising an eyebrow in surprise. Shaeine, for her part, turned her head to gaze back at their sleeping classmates.

“Over the last few months I have watched those two benefit from knowing each other, in ways I would never have anticipated. It’s a slow and subtle thing, and I can’t say what this is building toward, but I have come to believe it is best to leave them alone and let it happen.” She smiled faintly. “I wouldn’t repeat this to Trissiny, nor advocate it as a general practice… But in this one case, it seems to me that everyone is better off because justice was not done.”

Frowning, Toby stared into the empty space beyond the door. The faint reddish glow of the main cavern was visible, but the atmosphere was slightly hazy, more so than at the Grim Visage’s level, giving them no view to speak of. After a moment, he nodded slowly.

“That sounds a lot like what I’d concluded. Except in a lot more detail and with a lot more understanding. It all makes sense to me, though. Oh…I’m sorry,” he added, turning to face her. “I don’t mean to take credit for your insight or anything.”

“Not at all,” she replied with a smile. “I’m pleased I was able to offer you some clarity. Toby…” Shaeine tilted her head, studying him intently. “We seem to have a difference of opinion among the group concerning whether the Crawl is trying to torment or educate us here. In either case, however, I find myself unsurprised that it would show you images of your friends in conflict. Forgive me if I presume, but you do seem more concerned with the welfare of others than your own.”

He shrugged, but smiled faintly. “I’m comfortable with that assessment. A paladin’s life is sacrifice.”

“In Tar’naris, everyone’s life is sacrifice. Culturally, we see it as dangerous ostentation to grind oneself down in order to be of service to others. For the whole to function, individuals must understand their own needs, and see them met.” She laid a hand gently on his upper arm. “If you prefer to spend your energies caring for others, be sure to let others care for you as well. You will be no use to anyone if you burn yourself out.”

Toby looked down at the floor, then out at the cavern, then nodded again, finally meeting her gaze. “Thank you.”

Shaeine smiled back, letting her hand fall. While the first sounds of the others stirring began to grow behind them at the campsite, they stood in companionable silence, keeping watch.


“Okay,” said Ruda, straightening the lapels of her coat. “Has anyone taken the time to look outside?”

“I have!” Fross chirped.

“Fantastic. Got any working theories concerning just where the fuck we are?”

“Well… I’m pretty sure it’s far below the place where we entered the central cavern. I mean, it’s not likely there was much above that, you know? And it’s different enough I didn’t recognize any landmarks. It’s the same cavern, all slopey with some paths along the walls and a few stretching over the middle.”

“Great,” Gabriel sighed. “So basically, we’re lost as hell.”

“We’re not lost!” Fross protested. “We just have to go up!”

“That will depend upon finding viable paths,” said Shaeine.

“We have an advantage there, in that two of our party can fly,” Trissiny pointed out. “If Fross and Vadrieny scout ahead, like they did in the mazes in the Descent, we can hopefully avoid getting any more lost than necessary.”

It hadn’t been the most comfortable night, but the students were relatively rested, at least in comparison to how they’d felt before making camp. Now, fed, packed away and ready to head out again, they were clustered in the wing of the complex which led to the exterior door.

Toby sighed and squared his shoulders. “All right, it’s not getting any easier while we stand here. Let’s go have a look.” He started forward, the others proceeding in his wake.

Until Gabriel abruptly halted, straightening up from his customary slouch. “Ambush?”

Everyone stopped, turning to stare at him.

“What’s an ambush?” Ruda asked.

“I just… Someone said ‘ambush.’”

“Uh, yeah,” she replied. “You.”

“No, I mean, before that. You guys didn’t hear anything?”

There was a round of exchanged glances and shaken heads.

“I did not hear the word until you said it,” Shaeine replied.

“Well, if Ears didn’t hear it, nobody spoke it,” said Ruda. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Arquin, but you have gone batshit insane. We may have to push you in the pit.”

“That course of action might be premature, Boobs,” said Shaeine.

Everyone turned to stare at her in shock.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said placidly. “I thought we were renaming each other based on prominent features. Or shall we instead agree not to do that?”

“All right, all right, point taken,” Ruda muttered.

“There are any number of explanations for disembodied voices,” said Trissiny. “In this wretched place, insanity on the part of the person hearing them isn’t even the most likely. Whatever madness the Crawl inflicts on us next, we can’t afford to hunker down and let it. Gabe, let us know if you hear any more whispers. That goes for everyone else, too. For now, I say we proceed assuming we might be ambushed, which is a good idea anyway. Agreed?”

After a round of assent, Trissiny nudged them back into formation, and was the first one out, wreathed in a low-intensity golden corona that clung close to her skin. She paused in the doorway, carefully studying the scene. It did, indeed, look very much like what they had previously seen of the slanting main cavern, right down to the reddish glow from far below. Only the finer details were different. Stone paths hugged the walls in several places, with openings dotting them, and a few were suspended improbably over the vast empty space. There was no great sculpted face, obviously, though there was a structure of some kind built against on the forty-five degree slope to the right of their door, rather like a castle in miniature.

“No sign of movement,” she reported, “except for several large avians a good distance above us. I don’t think they see us down here, or at least aren’t interested.”

“Lemme see!” Fross chimed, zipping out to hover next to Trissiny’s shoulder. “Oh…oh, wow. Those are really rare. I thought they were supposed to be extinct! They’re pretty dangerous, but basically blind; they won’t come at us unless we get close enough to attract their attention. Let’s not do that, it would be a shame to kill them.”

“What exactly is them?” Juniper asked, craning her neck to peer through the gap.

“Greater horned chiropteroid raptors! They hunt in small packs of four or five, with very good coordination in attacks, almost like a military team.”

“You don’t mean…” Teal trailed off.

“Yes! Dire goddamn bats!”

“I hate this place,” Trissiny muttered.

A sudden whoop startled them; Trissiny raised her shield instinctively and Fross darted around behind her head.

Directly ahead, two paths converged in a fairly sizable floating island, ringed by low walls—much more safety-conscious than those they had seen above. One of the paths leading to it branched off from the ledge onto which their door opened, some distance to the left. There was another, smaller island above this one and slightly off-center. Three tiny figures had suddenly plunged off the edge of this and onto the lower island with a unified battlecry, vanishing below the level of the wall.

The sounds of a scuffle ensued, accompanied by curses in two languages. A single spell was fired, flying wildly into the air where it splashed against the cavern wall.

In the next moment, several figures emerged from concealment, where they had been crouching out of sight. There were three of them, all drow, and they had straightened up only to run. They pelted off down the path, two women leading, one armored, one in robes; behind them came a man in rather ragged pants and shirt, trying to sprint while crouched with his head tucked under his arms. He yelped as he was pelted from behind by pebbles.

“Yeah, you better run!” shouted a voice from the island. In moments, the drow had skittered away through a tunnel opening and were lost to sight.

“Those are the same three who have been hanging around the Grim Visage,” Shaeine noted.

“You’re sure?” Ruda asked, frowning.

“Yes. You will have to trust my word on it, I’m afraid. I know how we all look the same to you.”

“You’re in rare form today,” the pirate commented.

“Yoo hoo!” A small figure had clambered up onto the wall, followed by two others. “Hey, kids, glad to see you’re all okay!”

“Hey, look,” said Gabriel, peering over Trissiny’s shoulder now that she’d let her energy shield drop. “We found gnomes.”

“Gnomes found us,” Toby corrected. “Triss, can we move this forward a bit? I think that ambush situation was just taken care of…”

“Hm,” she said skeptically, but stepped out onto the ledge.

“There ye go!” cried the gnome in the center, now sitting down on the wall with his legs dangling over the abyss. “Well, c’mon out, let’s not be all day about it. Places to go, people to see! I’m Woodsworth, and with me are me companions, Sassafrass and Steinway.”

“Charmed!” called the female in the group, grinning rakishly and resting the haft of her battleaxe over her shoulder. It was a human-sized one, the handle nearly as long as she was tall.

“All right, there?” added the last fellow, apparently Steinway, waggling his fingers.

“Do we…know you?” Trissiny asked.

“Not to the extent of havin’ been formally introduced,” Woodsworth replied. “Though we have shared quarters recently! The Grim Visage is a goodly distance above, but there’s ways to get around the Crawl expeditiously if you’re on its good side. This is all very adventurous, by th’way, but might we ‘ave this conversation from a closer distance an’ a lower volume?”

“Um,” she said carefully. “With all respect, and with thanks for the apparent help…we’ve had a rough time lately and aren’t in the most trusting mood.”

“Well, sure,” said Sassafrass. “It’s not like we can make you do anything, nor would if we could. But, if you’re not absolutely married to the idea of wanderin’ around down here with no clue where yer goin’, maybe we can ‘elp?”

“There’s someone you ought to talk to, see?” Woodsworth added. “Nice fella of your acquaintance who sent us down ‘ere to ‘help out when we caught wind those three were after ye.”

“Not to sound paranoid,” Gabriel said, “but how can we be sure they meant us harm?”

“Are you serious?” Teal demanded.

“They were lying in wait, concealed from view, at a chokepoint where we’d be strung out along an unrailed path over the chasm before we knew they were there, Gabe,” said Trissiny. “That is not friendly behavior. What do the rest of you think?”

“I hate to default to racial stereotypes,” said Toby, “but I’ve never heard of gnomes robbing or ambushing anyone.”

“What the hell, he’s got a point,” Ruda added. “We’ve got no fuckin’ clue where we are or how to get where we want to be. Short help’s better than no help.”

“Let’s take it easy with the s-word while we’re in their company,” Teal suggested.

“Who did you want us to meet?” Trissiny asked, turning back to the gnomes and raising her voice.

“Well, we could stand here shoutin’ about it or we can just show you,” Woodsworth called back, grinning. “See that there little castle along the slope? The ledge you’re on’ll take ye there. Follow it till you reach the tunnel, go in that, and it’ll bring ye back out on another ledge that leads right t’the door. Meet you there!”

With that, the three gnomes hopped down behind the wall. Moments later they reappeared, trundling rapidly along the path opposite the one the drow had taken, which led them toward the indicated structure along a route parallel to the one Woodsworth had pointed out to them.

“Well,” said Teal after a moment in which nobody moved, “my dad has a saying for uncertain situations like this.”

“Oh?” Toby asked.

The bard grinned at him. “Eh, what the hell.”


The ledges and tunnel led exactly where their new acquaintances said they did, and in just a few minutes the students were assembling on the narrow balcony outside the tiny castle. It was actually little more than a round tower, built into the slope of the cavern, with a crenelated wall ringing its top and arrow slits not far below that. There was no door, only an archway leading to the interior, through which the gnomes had passed just before they arrived.

Inside, the room was rather cozy, mostly open all the way to the top, though stone steps circled around the entire interior of the tower, terminating in a trapdoor which presumably led to the roof. A fireplace was built into one wall, currently dark and cold, though an iron pot was suspended above it. Along the walls were various items of furniture: trunks bookshelves, chairs and a vertical rack of hammocks.

The gnomes had already assembled. Woodsworth and Sassafrass sat in chairs a bit too tall for them around a small round table and were laying out a card game; Steinway was piling what looked like coal in the fireplace. He looked up at the students when they entered, grinning.

“There y’are! Go on back, he’s expecting you.” With that and a nod at the wall opposite the entrance, he went back to shoveling.

A short flight of steps led to another doorway, beyond which was relative darkness. The students paused, studying their new environs carefully.

“Well, go on,” said Sassafrass. “It’s not like we’ve any appointments, but there’s no sense in keeping the man waiting.”

“Eh, what the hell. Remember?” Ruda said, grinning, and nudged Trissiny in the back. The paladin sighed, but stepped forward, her sword and shield in hand.

They crossed the chamber, climbed the steps and passed single-file through the doorway, Fross accompanying Trissiny in the front. Her light was welcome, as this led to a short tunnel that lacked light and appeared to be natural, to judge by its uneven walls. After a couple of twists, it opened out into a natural cavern completely unlike anything they had yet seen in the Crawl.

Not much larger than Tellwyrn’s classroom back at the University, it was much longer than wide, narrowing in the center. Ledges of stone lined the walls, with a softly gurgling river running down the middle of the space; just past the narrow point, rough-cut steps led to a higher level, where a small waterfall trickled down. Gaps in the ceiling admitted streams of water and clean white light from some unknown source. There were several giant mushrooms growing in clumps along the walls, as well as draperies of hanging lichen and softly glowing crystals embedded in the stone here and there. It was a strikingly peaceful place, cool and lovely, if slightly damp. And it was occupied

“Ah, there you are!” said Shamlin, bounding lightly down from the upper level and grinning at them. “About time; if I hadn’t been following your progress thus far I’d have begun to worry. But surely the eight of you had nothing to fear from the Apparitorium.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Ruda demanded.

“Well, that’s the thing,” he said, smiling rather smugly. “At issue, I think, is what you are doing here. Got a little lost, did we?”

“The demons on Level 2 seem to have misdirected us,” Trissiny said grimly.

“Ah, ah.” He held up an admonishing finger. “Leaping to conclusions, there, aren’t we? In fact, Melaxyna is going to be furious when she finds out someone got lost taking her portal. I expect she’s already starting to worry; the longer a student group remains absent after passing through it, the more likely she’ll have to deal with a very irate Professor Tellwyrn, which is enough to give anyone gray hairs. No, I wouldn’t describe the demons as trustworthy, broadly speaking, but they know which side their bread is buttered on. Nobody down here wants to pick a fight with the Unseen University.”

“Waaaaaiiit a second,” Fross said. “You called it…”

“That I did.” Shamlin’s smile widened. “Come on, you never wondered what a human is doing down here? The geas on the campus is serious business indeed. Tellwyrn does not suffer outsiders to mess around on her property, but University initiates sneaking into the Crawl for various purposes…why, that’s downright traditional. The Grim Visage and Level 2 are both popular spots for hosting off-campus parties.”

“Huh,” said Teal, sounding utterly bemused.

“Then what are you doing down here?” Toby asked.

“Making gold hand over fist,” Shamlin said with a grin. “It’s not exactly a luxurious spot to set up work, but there’s no shortage of opportunity here. In fact, I’m just about ready to cash in and return to the land of the living, but there are just a few things I need to square away first. There are the trio out there, for one thing.”

“Are they University alums, too?” Gabe asked.

“No, actually, they didn’t come from up top. That’s a Venomfont delving crew that managed to get as lost as anyone has ever been.”

“Venomfont?” Trissiny frowned. “That’s clear up in the Wyrnrange, not far from the Spine. There’s no way it’s physically connected to the Crawl.”

“And there we come to it,” Shamlin said, his expression abruptly growing more serious. “A number of things have gone screwy down here of late, most of them traceable to one or the other resident Vanislaad messing around with the Crawl.”

“I knew it,” Trissiny muttered.

“The Crawl, as I hope you’ve figured out by now, is very much a living thing,” Shamlin continued, seating himself on the steps, heedless of the damp. He stretched out his long legs and lounged backward, his casual posture contrasting with his solemn tone and expression. “It has its rules, but it’s also amenable to making exceptions. It relates to people on a very individual level—at least, those who either take the time and trouble to cultivate relationships with it, or somehow manage to piss it off. In my case, that means this little grotto, which I’m allowed exclusive use of while I stay down here. Nobody gets to visit without my approval. That, plus a few tricks I’ve acquired that enable me to move about the Crawl rapidly, are the result of a long campaign of…”

“Shmoozing?” Ruda suggested.

“I was going to say friendship,” he said with a grimace. “But…you’re not entirely wrong. There are a number of people you’ve encountered who have earned favor with the Crawl, and thus begun to wield a disproportionate influence. There’s Professor Tellwyrn, first and foremost; this place loves her. I have no idea how she arranged that. Most people she meets can’t wait for her to leave.”

“We have noticed,” Gabriel said dryly.

“Darling Melaxyna, as you also know, has accrued enough favor to make Level 2 her own little domain, as has Rowe with the Grim Visage. That last detail is the source of some of the problems I’ve seen developing recently. Thanks to his screwing around, there are lots more places connected to the Visage than there ought to be, which is how the trio came to be stranded here. Did I not know better, I’d suspect he was trying to arrange an exit from the Crawl that didn’t involve going back through the topside door, and thus right under Tellwyrn’s nose. She would notice that, and after sticking those two down here, she’s not about to let them wander off. Of course, opening such a door is entirely out of the question…under normal circumstances.”

“Normal, how?” Toby asked.

Shamlin leaned his head back, chewing thoughtfully on his lower lip for a moment. “I’m afraid you’ve been caught in the feud between Rowe and Mel. With both of them using their influence to bend the rules in their favor, and trying to do so against one another… Well, you stepping through that portal and ending up in the wrong place is just a case in point. Stuff isn’t working quite as it should.”

“And you want to fix this before you leave?” Juniper asked, speaking up for the first time. She looked hollow-eyed and exhausted, as she had since the day before.

“That,” Shamlin said, nodding. “And I have…other reasons. Suffice it to say, I’m the reason you are here.”

“You son of a bitch,” Ruda snarled, stomping toward him and pulling her rapier from its sheath.

In the next moment, Shamlin rolled nimbly to his feet and scurried back up the steps away from her, while Toby and Trissiny intercepted their furious classmate before she could reach him.

“Whoah, hang on!” he protested, backing further away and raising both his hands. “Let me explain! I didn’t arrange to have you sent to the wrong place from the portal. I don’t want Tellwyrn mad at me, either, which is the whole point. Once I caught wind of the fact you were going to be misdirected… Well, suffice it to say, the whole idea behind that was to get you so good and lost that you’d never be found again. I stepped in and got you sent to the Apparitorium instead. Just took a little persuasive speaking, really; the Crawl is interested in testing and teaching you, because that’s what Tellwyrn asked of it. That place is even better set up for that than the Descent. Albeit in somewhat different ways.”

“Fucking bullshit,” Ruda spat. “That place was a load of—”

“Will you please just let the man talk?” Toby interrupted in exasperation. “I for one would like to find out what’s going on around here!”

“What’s going on,” Shamlin said quickly, “is that between Melaxyna’s greasing your wheels and your own talents—by which I mostly mean firepower—you kids have been looking a lot like you were going to get all the way to Level 100 and retrieve the prize. And that…well, that would throw off certain plans in a way that the creators of those plans just couldn’t have. So, knowing that…” He folded his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels, grinning broadly. “…how would you like to kick those plans right straight to hell?”

There was a moment’s pause while the students looked around at each other.

“Go on,” Trissiny said finally.

“There are limits to how much I can help you,” said Shamlin. “You’re still student adventurers and the Crawl still has its mandate. But I can set you in the right direction. For example, have you discovered how the Crawl feels about cheating?”

“Yes, unfortunately,” Gabe replied, making a face.

“We were actually talking about that not long ago,” said Fross. “Me and Ruda, I mean. It’s almost like…it doesn’t mind cheating, if you cheat in the right way.”

Gabriel blinked. “Huh?”

“She’s got the right of it,” said Shamlin, nodding approvingly. “The Crawl doesn’t like being contradicted, but it also approves of lateral thinking. You tend to bring trouble down on your heads if you break its rules, but there are provided shortcuts, the use of which it fully accepts…if you can find them. The finding is the challenge. And I, as your friendly neighborhood dungeon cartographer, can set you up with the ultimate prize: a way to skip directly to the hundredth level of the Descent.”

“And…do you offer that to every student group that comes down here?” Juniper asked skeptically.

“Oh, gods, no,” he said fervently. “Most student groups would get chewed up if I just dropped them into that. Plus, there’s the important fact that I don’t actually have it.”

“The more this clown talks, the more convinced I become that he’s wasting our time,” Ruda snorted.

“Now, hear me out,” Shamlin said soothingly. “I don’t have the means to skip, but I can provide you with it. Or rather, I can tell you how to provide yourselves. There’s a shrine of the Naga Queen which contains what you seek. You already have the key; you just need to find the lock, and you’ll have your reward.”

“Okay, two questions,” said Gabriel. “First, what the hell is the Naga Queen?”

“Are you serious?” Fross exclaimed. “She’s the main boss of the Crawl, down on the lowest level of the whole shebang! The oldest and possibly most powerful dungeon boss in existence. Adventurers went delving in here for centuries before the University came along, and the few that even reached her after fighting through the naga court got… Well, you don’t mess with the Naga Queen, is all. The last guy who made a really serious effort got beaten to death with his own face!”

“That account may be apocryphal,” said Teal, repressing a smile.

“Okay, that’s plenty ominous,” said Gabe with a sigh. “Second question, we’ve already got the what now? Did somebody pick up a key?”

“Well, there’s a reason I had you brought to the Apparitorium,” Shamlin said smugly. “It’s the prize for passing the trails there.”

“What, this?” Gabriel pulled the black sword free and held it up.

Shamlin frowned. “What? No, it’s the snake flute. Please tell me you obtained the snake flute. What the hell is that?”

“I have the flute,” Teal reported, pulling it out of the inner coat pocket where she’d stashed the instrument.

“Oh, good,” said Shamlin, relaxing slightly, then turned back to Gabriel. “Are you saying you got that thing too?”

“It was in the box with the flute. What, that’s not supposed to happen?”

“Hm. Mind if I take a look at that?”

Gabriel passed the sword over to him; Shamlin examined it carefully, pulling it partly free of the scabbard to study the blade. “Well…this thing is magical as hell, but I can’t tell what any of these charms do. Radivass could, maybe. Seriously, though, Ariel? That’s like naming a sword Jane.”

“Shaeine thinks that’s the name of its original owner,” Gabe suggested.

Shamlin shook his head. “Doubtful. This weapon is more magic than steel. People who create things like this don’t call them… Well, we’re just speculating, and anyway this is all getting us off topic.” He carefully handed the sword back to Gabriel. “Be careful with that, at least until you’ve had it studied by an expert. Concerning the actual point, you’ve got the flute, I can provide the directions, and from there you can obtain your shortcut. Interested?”

“What will we find,” Trissiny asked slowly, “if we skip to Level 100? After the impediments we’ve already suffered, I can only expect some further disaster.”

“Disaster might be putting it a bit over-dramatically,” Shamlin said with a grin. “But you’re not completely wrong. You won’t be stepping into what Tellwyrn sent you here to face.”

Toby heaved a sigh. “And you can’t tell us what it is?”

“I could,” he said, shrugging. “It would cause you more problems from the Crawl in the long run, though, and to be frank I’m not a hundred percent certain what form your final challenge will take. If you do take me up on the offer, though, I can promise you this much.” He smiled at them again, a self-satisfied expression that was more than half smirk. “School is no longer in session, kids. You’re now dealing with real powers who have real-world goals and concerns. If you make it to Level 100, be prepared for the confrontation of your lives.”

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6 – 23

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“Are you sure?” Trissiny demanded. “How can you tell?”

The group backed away as another hammer blow knocked loose a cascade of ice fragments.

“I’m a fairy!” Fross exclaimed. “I know when I’m in the presence of one of Naiya’s daughters!”

“Fuck,” Ruda said emphatically. “For one blessed moment, I thought this was gonna be simple. Dunno why, but I did.”

The monster roared again, smashing the wall with both colossal fists. That entire segment collapsed, and it began forcing its way through the gap.

“Retreat!” Trissiny barked, backing away. “Fross, slow her down!”

“On it!”

“Retreat where?” Ruda demanded, even as she backed up from the creature. Fross zipped back and forth, rapidly building inverted icicles; the columns of ice were only waist-high to the creature, but the pixie was arranging them as an obstacle course in the transformed dryad’s path, forcing her to stop and batter through them. “There’s nowhere to go but back to the nexus!”

“That may work,” said Toby. “We didn’t see any illusion effects in there, right? Maybe if we coax her out of this hall, she’ll revert to herself.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Trissiny, nodding. “All right, slow retreat. Fross, good work; keep her from catching up to us. We don’t want to get too far ahead, let her keep us in view. Gabe, can you fine-tune your wandshots not to damage her? We may need to provoke her to keep following us.”

“I don’t really have that kind of control,” he said.

“I advise against it in any case,” Shaeine added. “If she does not return to herself upon reaching the nexus, we will have to coax her down. Hurting and enraging her will make that vastly more difficult.”

They beat a slow, nervous retreat back to the center of the complex, staying carefully out of Juniper’s reach with the help of Fross’s various ice constructions, while keeping her in view. No taunting proved necessary; the monstrosity kept after them, roaring and lashing out with her various limbs, which was both convenient for their plan, and rather worrisome. Fross, for her part, seemed to get into her task with enthusiasm, making her impediments increasingly elaborate and fanciful in shape as they progressed. Of course, they all ended up in pieces.

The Crawl didn’t try to thwart them, for once. In what seemed like less time than it had taken to get that far into the hallway, they were backing out of it, leaving the mist behind and stepping into the wide-open space of the central nexus. Fross laid off the ice works, zipping back to join the others as they picked up their pace to put some extra distance between themselves and their pursuer.

Roaring, she stomped forward to the edge of the mist, stingers poised to lash out. The students retreated nearly to the center of the chamber.

“Come on, June,” Trissiny muttered, keeping her shield in front of her.

The dryad-monster stomped forward, flaring her breathing sacs. The fog faded behind her, leaving her towering shape framed against a dense white backdrop. Emitting a guttural growl and flexing both stinger-tails, she took another step forward.

“Okaaaay,” said Ruda. “What was Plan B?”

“I’m gonna try something,” said Gabriel, taking a step forward.

“Gabe,” Toby warned.

“It’s okay. Shaeine, can you please be ready to rescue me from my own stupidity if need be?”

“That is my customary practice, yes.”

He grinned at her momentarily before continuing forward at a slow walk.

The monster roared at him; Gabriel didn’t falter. “Hi, Juno,” he said. She stopped, stingers poised menacingly, and bent forward as if to sniff at him.

Keeping his pace slow, he continued on. “I know you don’t like to talk about what’s bothering you. Like I’ve told you before, though, you can. Whatever this is, whatever you’re so afraid of…you don’t need to be. At the very least, you don’t have to face it alone.”

He stopped, finally. The monster took one step forward and leaned down, planting both fists on the ground on either side of him. Her stingers arched over her shoulders, hovering menacingly above his head.

“Gabriel, you are too close,” Shaeine said. “I can’t put a shield around you without burning her.”

“This doesn’t have to happen,” Gabriel said, ignoring the priestess. He slowly raised one hand toward the creature’s face, what there was of one. “There is no reason it will. You are what you choose to be.”

She exhaled sharply, blowing his hair back. He winced; they could smell it from yards away. He did not retreat, though.

“Choose,” Gabriel said quietly, placing his hand against her. “You’re not alone.”

The monster’s roar was almost enough to physically bowl him over at that distance. She seized him by both shoulders and hiked him bodily off the ground, straightening up.

Before anyone could even cry out, a tiny silver point appeared from the creature’s upper chest, just in front of Gabriel’s face.

The monster emitted a guttural wail, dropping Gabe as suddenly as she had picked him up, and staggered backward, incidentally dislodging Ruda from her back. The pirate rolled away, nimbly landing on her feet, as the mutated dryad slumped to her knees, sagging in place.

“What did you do?” Toby shouted.

“Mithril,” Ruda said, retreating from Juniper without taking her gaze away. “Think Triss had the right idea back there. Good for cutting off magic. Hopefully not just hers; it should work on the Crawl’s, even.”

“That’s right through—you could kill her!” Gabriel exclaimed in horror.

“Nah, I’ve stabbed her with it once before. Just shook her up some.”

“You’ve what?”

Juniper’s hulking form was listing markedly to one side now. As they watched in appalled fascination, the green of her mottled skin faded to brown, the brown to gray. Before their eyes, flesh turned to wood and began to crack, as if from age and rot.

“Look at her!” Gabriel shouted. “You bloody maniac, you—”

“Listen!” Shaeine said urgently, cutting him off.

In the silence which followed, a soft noise could be heard from the stilled monster, an apparently sourceless shuffling. Then, its central body shifted and seemed partially to collapse in on itself. Ruda’s rapier was tugged firmly to the side, its jeweled hilt knocking loosed a large chunk of calcified flesh.

“Have we yet been on an adventure when you didn’t stick this thing in somebody?”

The voice, though muffled, was unmistakeable. Gabriel leaped forward, followed swiftly by Toby and Ruda. They had to actually dig into the huge bulk of the body, pulling aside half-rotted chunks of wood, but in only seconds Juniper’s green hair was visible. With remarkably little effort—the husk of the monster now seemed about as sturdy as papier mache—they were carefully pulling her out of the ruins, still with the rapier through the center of her chest. There was no sign of her sundress.

“Are you okay?” Gabriel asked the dryad solicitously. “How do you feel?”

“Impaled,” she grimaced. “It doesn’t feel good. But…thanks, Ruda. That was a pretty awful thing.”

“People underestimate the curative powers of stabbing,” Ruda said with a grin. “Good to see your pretty face again, Juno. I’m gonna want that back, by the way.”

“Well, that’s fine, I’d just as soon have it out.” Grimacing, the dryad shifted around, giving Ruda access to the hilt protruding from between her shoulder blades.

“This might sting a bit,” Ruda warned.

“Less than it did going in I beoww!”

“You really do like to stab people,” Teal said, grinning.

“Hey, guys?” said Fross. “Look.”

The mist had faded from each of the side halls, revealing their shapes—which in all cases were virtually square. They extended no further back than they were wide, and seemed oddly sad, with nothing to reveal but blank stone surfaces.

“That’s almost insulting,” Ruda muttered.

“How so?” Trissiny asked.

“Couldn’t say, really. I just feel generally insulted.”

“Fair enough,” Trissiny replied with a smile.

“Well, I guess this means we officially won,” Gabriel said, letting go of Juniper’s hand and stepping past the group toward the middle of the room. In the precise center of the floor there now sat a small wooden chest.

“Are we sure we’re not still in the Descent?” Ruda demanded, planting her fists on her hips.

“Pretty sure, yeah,” said Fross. “Totally different style and methodology here. I’m equally sure it’s still the Crawl, though.”

Gabriel knelt and raised the lid. “…well, this is kinda disappointing.”

“What’d we get?” Teal asked, looming over his shoulder and craning her neck.

“I think this is for you,” he said, picking up an ebony flute from within the box and handing it to her. It was quite average in size, though carved in the slightly sinuous form of a snake, with another, smaller serpent cast in gold winding about its length.

“Ooh,” she whispered, accepting the instrument and cradling it tenderly before her face.

“Um, don’t blow in that,” Fross said nervously. “That thing is lousy with enchantments, and I can’t even tell what most of them do. It’s old, too. No telling what might happen.”

“We can have Professor Yornhaldt look at it when we’re back topside,” Toby suggested.

“Only one other thing here,” Gabe reported, straightening and holding up the remainder of their winnings. “So, uh, who needs a sword?”


 

After a fairly minimal discussion, they decided to make camp. Everyone was exhausted, hungry, and generally not feeling up to more adventure at the moment, and the only two ways they had out of the complex held the prospect of further trouble. The eighth hall did indeed terminate in a door out of the area, which Fross peeked through and reported opened onto the huge, sloping central cavern of the Crawl. There were no recognizable landmarks; they were either far above or below the level of the Grim Visage. They also had their waystone, of course, but as the portal from Level 2 was the apparent culprit in their current predicament, Trissiny was not alone in mistrusting the welcome they could expect from the demons there.

Fortunately, their shopping from immediately prior to this misadventure had equipped them to settle in if necessary. They improvised a fire by laying down a hearth-sized array of Gabriel’s spell paper inscribed with elemental protection charms, on which they made a puddle of oil of combustion, which Fross then enchanted with a minor time-dilation effect. The resulting campfire was somewhat eerie, shifting very slowly rather than flickering as flames normally did, and producing a peculiar hissing sound rather than crackling cheerfully. It put out heat and light, however. Soon enough, they had arranged their collapsible cook pot over the languid blaze, and set a stew of pork and mushrooms to simmering, while they chewed on unappetizing mushroom bread to stave off hunger.

“I feel kinda bad, though,” Gabriel was saying. “Are you sure nobody else wants it?”

“For the last time, only two of us use swords, and neither of us needs an upgrade,” Ruda said, grinning at him. “You picked it up, you may as well keep it.”

“Don’t try to fight with it, though,” Trissiny said firmly. “I’ve seen you handle a sword in class; you’ll impale yourself. That thing might just be magical enough to do you harm, too.”

“That’s sort of what I meant,” he said with a rueful grin. “Just seems like a waste.”

“Or you could view it as motivation,” Shaeine suggested. “Now you have a reason to learn the sword.”

“Or you could sell it,” said Ruda. “I can tell it’s old, and elvish. Fross says it’s heavily enchanted. Gotta be worth some serious coin.”

“Mm,” he mused, pulling the saber half-out of its sheath to study the blade. “I dunno. That feels…wrong, somehow.”

The leather wrapping the hilt was black, as was its attached scabbard. The blade itself was a single long curve, continuing to form an equally curved handle with only the most minimal crossguard and a heavy, rounded pommel. Its design was, indeed, clearly elven.

“What’s that written on the blade, there?” Toby asked.

“It’s some form of elvish,” Gabriel reported, holding up the sword and squinting at it in the firelight. “I can’t read it.”

“It says ‘Ariel,’” said Teal.

He frowned. “Ariel? What’s that mean?”

“It is a name,” said Shaeine. “A rather popular one among elves until about a millennium ago. I know three women named Yrril, which is the Narisian variant. Not as commonly used these days.”

“Well, I guess that makes sense!” said Fross. “A lot of magic swords have names.”

“I suspect Ariel was the sword’s previous owner,” Shaeine replied. “It would be the equivalent of a sword named Jane. Not inconceivable, but…rather odd.”

“Hmm,” Gabriel mused, sliding the blade back into its sheath and setting it aside. “Well…I might actually show it to Professor Tellwyrn, see what she says. Between the unidentified spells on it and the fact I suck at swords, I’m gonna leave it alone for the time being.”

“I think that’s a very good idea,” Toby said firmly.

“So!” Ruda said. “If we’re all settled in and done beating around the bush, let me pose the obvious question. What the fuck was all that?”

“Do we really need to talk about it?” Gabriel asked after a moment’s strained silence.

“In some cases, I think we do,” said Toby. “Some of the things we saw… I think the base question is, how much of it was true?”

“About a fifty-fifty split in our case,” Gabe replied, looking over at Trissiny. “It started off with some miscellaneous spookiness before it really got hold of us. Then Triss was turned into some kind of alternate universe version of herself, and I got dragged through that mess with Madeleine again.”

“Madeleine?” Teal asked.

“Wait, stop,” said Ruda, grinning hugely. “Alternate universe Trissiny?”

“One in which I was raised by my biological mother, rather than the Sisterhood,” Trissiny said quietly.

“Wh—your mother, that smarmy Eserite elf? Naphthene’s tits, what were you like?”

“A lot like you, actually.”

Ruda barked a laugh. “You poor, abused child.”

“I can see why the Crawl would come up with that,” Teal mused. “Avenists and Eserites are about as opposite as it comes. There’s probably no better way to attack Trissiny.”

“I don’t think it was an attack,” Trissiny said pensively, frowning into the fire.

“Go on,” Toby said after a moment.

She sighed and lifted her gaze. “I’ve been…wondering. The whole time I’ve been at this University it seems I can’t do anything except mess up; I’ve only succeeded in places like the Golden Sea and Sarasio where there’s an enemy to fight. Otherwise…”

“Otherwise,” Ruda said amiably, producing a bottle of whiskey, “you do shit like try to execute classmates and start civil insurrections.”

“….yeah,” Trissiny said with a grimace. “It was Bishop Darling who put the idea in my head that…that maybe the other side of my heritage might have value. I’m an Avenist raised and trained, but I’m also the offspring of a particularly devious thief. Everyone keeps going on about how the old ways don’t work in the new world. Avei herself said the new paladins were being called after such a long time as a break with old traditions, so the gods could prepare us for other ways of thinking. And… Sitting here now, I find I’m feeling grateful for the experience.”

“Grateful?” Gabriel’s eyebrows rose sharply.

Trissiny nodded. “That girl I was…I remember her. Not the details of her life, but what it was like, seeing the world through her eyes. Studying the angles, the complexities, always looking for the less-trod path, the perfect place to put the tiniest pressure to achieve her ends. And…and finding such joy in it. The constant thrill and, and celebration in being challenged and having to survive with nothing but your wits and skills. If that’s what life is like for Eserites… Well, I think I understand them a lot better. And I think that may be exactly the thing I needed to learn. I’m not sure how to incorporate that into my mindset, but…it’s a start. I feel it was important for me.”

“Tellwyrn and Ezzaniel both called the Crawl a teacher,” Teal said, frowning into the fire. “Could this really have all been arranged for our benefit?”

“In some cases more than others,” Gabriel grunted. “I don’t see the educational value in the shit I had to deal with.”

“I have to ask,” said Trissiny, looking up at him, “how did that play out in the real world? I know I wasn’t there to rescue you that time.”

He shrugged, not meeting her gaze. “Madeleine’s bargain-basement diabolism didn’t hold. The hethelax demon broke through the circle and managed to restrain me before I could hurt her. After that… My dad had a little talk with her, and Toby arranged for Church summoners to send the demon back where he came from. I didn’t see her again.” He sighed heavily. “Not even a week later I went back there looking for her, because I’m really not that bright, and her whole house was cleaned out.”

“Not many people want to be on your dad’s bad side,” Toby said with a small smile.

“Well, I don’t think we necessarily need to drag everyone’s deep, dark secrets into the light,” said Ruda. “I for one don’t see a reason to discuss the crap it dumped on me back there.”

“Yeah, it is kind of counterintuitive that you’d be afraid of becoming an accountant.”

Ruda slammed her bottle down. “Fross.”

“Sorry!”

“Really?” Gabriel tilted his head inquisitively. “You’re actually really good with figures. How come—”

“Arquin, after the day we’ve had I barely need an excuse to come over there and fuck you up.”

“Peace, please,” said Shaeine. “This has been extremely trying for all of us. Let us please not make the mistake of taking it out on each other.”

“Anyway,” Ruda said loudly. “With that said, I agree with Toby. There is some stuff we really do need to talk about.”

She looked pointedly at Juniper. One by one, the others swiveled their heads to do the same.

The dryad sighed, slumping slightly. She had been silent up till now, sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees. After being sluiced off with some of Fross’s stored water to get the slime and rotted wood off her, she’d been persuaded to don one of the lightly-enchanted robes they’d acquired as Descent level rewards and been unable to sell. The whole time, she had been uncharacteristically quiet and pliable.

“I’m made of magic,” she said quietly. “I’m a living conduit to my mother’s power. Even if I can’t do much magic, that’s a lot of power. It’s a huge amount. Basically infinite. And…and it can change.” She paused to gulp heavily, still staring at the slow flames. “Dryads… One way or another, that’s how we end up. After hundreds of years, we start getting a little weird. In the head, I mean. And a dryad who’s lost a sense of herself tends to…change.”

“Into creatures like that?” Gabriel asked.

Juniper shrugged, not looking up. “Not necessarily. I don’t even know what that was. Some personification of my worry, I guess. And it’s not just age that does it; we’re not built to handle mental trauma, either. A dryad who lives long enough to go senile, or suffers a bad enough emotional shock… Well. Anything could happen.”

“What kind of anythings can happen?” Ruda asked sharply.

“Cherry…I don’t even know what happened to her, but she became a kind of aquatic monster. She swims up and down rivers, pulling people in and drowning them. She doesn’t even eat them, just wants to watch them die. Sequoia turned into a tree when the mortals she had become friends with were massacred. Some elves built a grove around her so they could protect her until she wakes up, which was nice of them, but…I think if she were going to she would have by now. And that’s nothing compared to what happened to Jacaranda.”

Fross abruptly forgot to keep flying and plunged into the stew pot.

She was out the next second, spluttering and spraying droplets of gravy everywhere. “What? Who? What did you say?”

“Yeah,” Juniper said, nodding. She finally raised her eyes to look at the pixie.

“Wait, you know that one, Fross?” Toby asked.

“J-Jacaranda? That’s the Pixie Queen’s name! It can’t be the same person, she hates dryads!”

“That…could be an argument in favor of it being the same person,” Shaeine said thoughtfully.

“It is,” said Juniper, still watching Fross. “She…well, to make a long story short, she fell in love with someone, and he decided he didn’t want her. She couldn’t cope with that.”

“Wait, the Pixie Queen is a dryad?” Gabriel exclaimed.

“No,” Juniper said wearily. “The Pixie Queen is just one of the things that can happen to a dryad who gets her heart broken. She wanted to always feel loved, and to be distracted from her own thoughts. She wanted it more than she wanted to continue existing, wanted it badly enough to warp her very nature. Like I said, we’re hugely magical. If we lose sight of ourselves…the sky’s the limit. Anything can happen.”

“So, then… Does this make you…my…aunt?” Fross whispered.

Juniper managed a smile at that. “Well, the relationships aren’t exactly biological, y’know? You’re a piece of her aura. Part of her conduit to Naiya. Basically the same thing I am, but smaller, with more structure. So… I guess I’m more your big sister. Is that okay?”

“I…I…” Fross sounded completely overawed. “That’s okay with me.”

“So, I understand your worry about becoming a monster,” Toby said quietly. “How about why you’re worried about it?”

Juniper dropped her gaze again. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? Whatever happens, will happen.”

“No,” he said firmly, then stood and strode across the circle to sit down beside her and drape an arm around her shoulder. “Juniper, I’ve had time to think since Tiraas, and I’ve come to realize I wasn’t being a good friend to you at all. I was hovering around, worrying and generally treating you like some kind of dangerous animal instead of doing what I would for someone I care about. Which means, in this case, a little tough love.”

“Uh, I am not certain this is a good idea,” Trissiny said carefully.

“It’s a good idea,” Ruda insisted. “Juno, hon, we all know you’ve been gnawing at this, and we all know the basics of why. And we’ve left you alone about it, but it’s time to lay some cards on the table. If those are the stakes we’re dealing with… Your issues are everybody’s business. You get that, right?”

“Take all the time you need to get it out,” Toby said gently, rubbing her shoulder. “But we need to talk about this. Tonight.”

Juniper hunched in on herself, tightening her grip on her knees, as if to shut them all out. She leaned against Toby, though. “I… I did something really bad,” she whispered.

“Yeah?” said Ruda. “Why’d you do that?”

“Ruda!” Trissiny exclaimed.

“I’m not just bein’ an ass here. It’s a pertinent question. If you knew it was bad, what was your reason for doing it, Juniper?”

“I didn’t,” the dryad said miserably. “I didn’t understand… It was never like…” She paused to swallow painfully. Toby continued gently rubbing her shoulder. “We were apart from everything, you know? Naiya’s favored daughters. We did what we wanted. I always tried to keep in balance with nature, do what I saw other animals do. Only kill to eat, only when I needed to. Most of my sisters did the same, but some… Mostly the older ones… They were weird. They’d hunt for sport, or… Well, some of them had funny hobbies. And that was fine! It didn’t seem like much fun to me, but they were dryads. In the Deep Wild, dryads do whatever they want, and it’s okay. By definition.”

“Just to be clear,” Gabriel said carefully, “we are talking about you eating humans?”

“It was just the one,” Juniper whispered. “Just that one time. He was the first one I’d ever seen. I was curious.”

“Curious?” Teal burst out, then clapped a hand over her mouth, looking abashed.

“Well, see, that’s already not as bad as some of us were thinkin’,” Ruda said lightly. “That’s why I was asking about motivations. You didn’t know better, right? I mean, don’t get me wrong, that was a shitty thing to do and it sure as hell mattered to him, not to mention his family, but you’ve gotta make allowances for the circumstances.”

“I was curious,” Juniper went on, barely above a whisper. “I wanted to know everything. Sample…try everything. See what it all was, how it worked. So…I ate little bits. From each part. And used healing to keep him alive so they all stayed fresh.”

The silence was deafening. Even Fross settled to the ground, stilling her wings.

“How could you do something like that?” Gabriel whispered at last.

Juniper buried her face in her arms.

“Okay,” Ruda said slowly, “that is pretty fucked up. You understand that, right?”

Juniper made a soft whimpering noise.

“I asked you a question,” Ruda said with a bit of an edge to her voice. “I’m not making small talk, here, Juno, we are discussing this.”

“I didn’t know!” Juniper wailed suddenly, raising her head. Tears were pouring down her face. “He was a monster! Humans were just these unnatural creatures that lived out of balance and destroyed things for no good reason. I didn’t know how complicated it all was! How, what, it…” She choked off, swallowed twice, and continued, her voice breaking. “But people are different than animals, and they matter, and I get that now. I shouldn’t have done that, and I can’t go back to thinking he was just a thing. It hurts, and I can’t make it stop, and I’m scared! I don’t want to be a monster!”

“Hey, hey, take it easy,” Ruda said more gently. She stood and went over to sit on Juniper’s other side, leaning against her. “Hon, guilt is a nasty thing. It will fuck you right up if you don’t learn to deal with it.”

“How do you deal?” Juniper sniffled.

“There are many ways,” said Shaeine.

“Personally, I have duty to fall back on,” Ruda said. “I have a job to do. I don’t get to wallow in my bad feelings. If I’ve done something wrong, I do my best to make it right. If that can’t be done… Then I remember I’ve done wrong in the world and make an effort to add some good to it. For my family, my people, everyone who depends on me.”

“That sounds…complicated,” Juniper said, her face falling.

“It is,” Toby agreed. “Any method you settle upon will be. This is not something that can be corrected with a few magic words, Juniper. What you did… The action you describe is abhorrent almost beyond description. But.” He gently placed his fingers under her chin, lifting her face when she tried to hide under her arms again. “The fact is, you do feel this way. You understand, you have the empathy to know it was wrong. And you started feeling this way when you developed that understanding. You really are a kind person at heart, Juniper. I don’t believe you could have done that, had you known what you were doing then. Would you do it now?”

“Never!” she burst out, looking panicked.

“Then it’s time to go forward,” he said firmly. “Backward is only pain. You need to take some responsibility for your own growth. I hate to tell you this, June, but you’ve had an absolutely terrible upbringing.”

“That’s sure as hell true,” Ruda agreed with a grin.

“My mother is a goddess,” the dryad said, frowning. “I’m sure she did right by me.”

Toby sighed. “Did she ever tell you she loves you?”

“What? I don’t… Why does that matter? I know she does. She protects me, after all. You’ve all seen that.”

“Okay,” he said. “But did she ever tell you?”

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything,” she huffed.

“Juniper,” Teal said gently, “you know we love you, right?”

“I… Well, sure. I love you, too.”

“Right.” Teal nodded, smiling. “But isn’t it so much better to hear it?”

“The thing is,” Toby went on while Juniper frowned in thought, “you were raised with no boundaries. No ethics. You learned to do whatever you wanted, to whoever you wanted… June, that’s a recipe for a person with no moral center who can’t function in the wider world. Honestly, it sounds like your mother didn’t even try to raise you at all, you or any of your sisters. She just…turned you loose.”

“I’ve been proceeding under the assumption that dryad morality is simply alien and inscrutable,” Trissiny said thoughtfully. “But if you’ll forgive me for saying it, Juniper, when I look back over our interactions, there’s nothing that can’t be explained by you simply being spoiled. I wonder if that might not be why your sisters are so vulnerable to emotional trauma. What reason have any of you had to develop emotional resilience?”

“I’m starting to feel kind of ganged up on,” Juniper muttered sullenly.

“Yes, well, we just learned you tortured somebody to death, Gabriel said sharply, “because you were curious. This is kind of a serious matter.”

“You do have a habit of saying anything you don’t like is unnatural,” Ruda said. “Contributing to the spoiled theory.”

“All right!” Juniper exclaimed. “What do you want from me?”

“What do you want?” Toby asked more quietly.

She paused, blinking in confusion, then frowned. “I… I’m not sure.”

“It doesn’t have to be a big question,” he said. “We’re not settling your whole life or anything. Think in the immediate term. What is it you would like to happen, Juniper?”

“I…” She swallowed again. “I just want to stop feeling so bad, right now. And…and I feel like that’s even worse. Selfish. I should suffer.”

“It’s good that you have a sense of fairness,” said Trissiny, “but inflicting suffering for suffering is rarely constructive. Justice is about everyone getting what they need, not what they deserve. What anybody deserves is often too complex a matter for us mortals to judge.”

Shaeine stood, stepped around the fire and crouched in front of Juniper. “You understand why my healing works for Gabriel when Toby and Trissiny’s does not?”

“Well…yes. Professor Tellwyrn explained that to us in Sarasio.”

The drow nodded. “To call upon Themynra’s attention is to invite her judgment. If it will put your mind at ease, Juniper, we can give you the word of no less than a goddess on the matter of your culpability.”

“It’s…divine magic,” Juniper said nervously. “It’s not good for fairies, even if she…y’know.”

“It will weaken you, yes,” Shaeine said seriously. “But believe me, you will know the difference between that and Themynra’s wrath. I will not impose this upon you, but if you would like to have the clarity, I offer it.”

“I…okay,” the dryad said in a small voice. “I think…yes, please.”

“Give me your hand.”

Gently taking Juniper’s hand in both of her own, Shaeine lit from within, a subtle silver corona forming around her. The dryad winced, staring down at her hand, which was in the center of the brightest part of the glow. It subsided after only a few seconds, however, and Shaeine released her. She pulled her hand back, flexing her fingers experimentally.

“That…tingled. And…and I feel a little weak.”

“But not burned,” Shaeine said with a smile. “Not judged. A full ritual to call upon Themynra’s judgment in detail is another matter; I fear that is beyond a priestess of my relatively low rank and training. But you know, now, that for immediately practical purposes, she does not deem you worthy of being struck down.”

“See?” Ruda said lightly. “All good.”

“It’s a long road forward, but you have friends to help you along it,” Toby added, gently rubbing her shoulder again.

Juniper frowned in thought, staring into the fire for a long moment before lifting her eyes again. Her gaze settled on Trissiny. “Can…can you do that, too?”

Trissiny straightened, a frown crossing her features. “I… That’s not the same thing, Juniper. Avei is a very different goddess than Themynra. The light I call on is subject to the Pantheon’s mandate, not her individual judgment.”

“But Avei is the goddess of justice,” the dryad said, staring intently at her now. “Can you do…like Shaeine said? Ask her judgment?”

“Once again, Avei’s judgment is not like Themynra’s. I can, yes, but it’s not something to be done lightly.”

“In all honesty, I don’t think anything about this is light,” Gabriel noted.

“Would you, Trissiny?” Juniper asked.

“June,” the paladin said, her tone worried now, “what you’re asking for… If Avei passes judgment on you, I will have to carry it out. There are certainly extenuating circumstances, but what you did… This would mean a death sentence in any nation of laws, anywhere.”

“You’re saying you’d kill her?” Ruda said, scowling.

“On the direct command of my goddess, at Juniper’s own request? I wouldn’t have a choice. It’s not just a question of my position beneath her. Avei doesn’t inflict death needlessly; if she deemed it necessary for Juniper to die, I would trust her judgment.”

“That’s kinda fucked up, Boots,” Ruda said. “You know that, right?”

“It is not an unreasonable position,” Shaeine said.

“You said it’s not likely she would demand my death,” Juniper said. “And…that there are extenuating circumstances. Right? You were raised Avenist, you know how Avei thinks. Do you think she’d order that?”

“I don’t…think so,” Trissiny said worriedly. “But I also cannot rule it out. Juniper…think about what you’re asking for.”

“She’s asking for closure,” Toby said quietly. “She wants to take responsibility. I think it’s a very important step.”

“If…I mean…” Juniper sighed, looking down at the ground for a moment before raising her eyes again. A determined expression settled on her face as she met Trissiny’s gaze. “I’d rather not die, obviously. But…if Avei has some punishment for me… I sort of think I would feel better.”

Trissiny stared at her in silence for a few seconds, then sighed heavily. “Juniper…be sure. Whatever the details, you are asking for an outcome that may be very permanent.”

“I’m sure,” the dryad said firmly. “I’m… Nature is balance, Trissiny. I’m out of balance; it hurts me like a lost limb. I’m asking for your help.”

The paladin rose slowly to her feet. “We had best step away from the others, and the fire. Gabriel…keep well back, please.”

Juniper followed her meekly several yards away, leaving the rest of the group sitting in silence around the campfire, watching them closely. At Trissiny’s direction, both of them knelt, facing each other. Trissiny drew her sword, setting the tip against the floor and bowing her head over the hilt.

For more than a minute, they simply knelt there. Juniper glanced uncertainly back at her classmates.

The change was subtle, but abrupt. Trissiny spoke, her voice carrying a resonance that made it seem to fill the huge chamber.

“Priestess, shield the demonblood in Themynra’s light if you do not wish to see him obliterated.”

“Wait, what?” Gabriel squeaked, even as a silver sphere flickered into existence around him.

Trissiny stood, and Avei stood with her.

It was almost like looking at an image through water, the perspective flickering with each shift of the eyes. Trissiny was there, a slim blonde girl in armor, but it was also Avei, a powerfully built woman with her black hair pulled back in a severe tail, towering over them in more ways than the physical. The room was suddenly illuminated as if by the noon sun, but no shadows were cast anywhere.

Juniper stared up at her, eyes so wide they bulged, her mouth clamped down into a thin line.

“You are not mine to judge, daughter of Naiya,” Trissiny and Avei said, their voices resonating in unison rather like Vadrieny’s, but with a power that made the walls vibrate. “You stand apart from the world, from all the laws which govern mortals, shielded from the natural consequences of your actions by the favor of your mother. By inviting my judgment, you ask that this state be changed. If this is your intention, Juniper, be certain. My judgment is not to be gainsaid, once pronounced.”

“I’m certain,” Juniper managed, her voice trembling.

Very slowly, the paladin and goddess nodded, staring down at her. “Naiya is a protective but inattentive mother. You have seen the fates of your sisters who fell from their given state. Once changed beyond recognizability, they were beyond her notice. To strike you down would be to invite her retaliation… But to separate you from her sight is another matter.

“I see in you the capacity for significant virtue or fathomless carnage, dryad. The thing that seems most promising to me is that you have called this upon your own head. You have sought to place yourself in the world of mortals, to walk among them as one of their own. To take responsibility. Know, though, that while your crimes were committed in innocence, they are no less severe for this.

“My judgment, Juniper, is both punishment and aid. I hereby sever you from the unmerited favor of your goddess.”

Golden wings sprang up from behind Trissiny, and a matching pair flared into existence from Juniper, accompanied by a golden corona. The dryad cried out in apparent pain, slumping forward and barely catching herself on her knuckles, short of falling to the floor. The golden light around her faded quickly, leaving her gasping for breath.

“You are alone now, child,” Avei said. “Exactly as alone as all mortals are. You shall have only the connections you build, only the power you earn for yourself. I cannot lessen the magic that animates you, nor change your essential nature, without destroying you utterly. But know this: you are no longer watched over by divine mandate. If you fall, you will not rise again. The creatures of the wild will respect your power, but they will not see in you the will of your mother. You are a powerful fairy, Juniper. But you are no longer, for all intents and purposes, a demigod.

“This is the price of your crime… And the promise of the life you seek to build for yourself. Judgment has been passed.”

The light diminished, quickly but smoothly, leaving the chamber in the same omnipresent dimness that prevailed in the Crawl, lit by the students’ campfire. Trissiny staggered for a second as if dizzy.

Juniper drew in a shuddering breath, tears spilling down her cheeks. She started to rise, but lost her balance, once again barely avoiding a fall.

Trissiny knelt before her and wrapped her arms around the quivering dryad. Juniper’s shoulders began to shake in silent sobs; she clutched the paladin as if Trissiny were the only thing holding her up.

“Soooo,” Ruda said after more than a minute had passed with no sound but Juniper’s quiet weeping. “Who wants stew?”

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