 
Book Three of the Sons of Odin

Angel-Magic Edition

L. A. Hammer

Copyright 2015 L.A. Hammer.

Published by L.A. Hammer at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition Licence Notes

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover artwork, maps and interior illustrations by Minh Nguyen – flare3103

Minh Nguyen's artworks can be found by searching L. A. Hammer at Imagekind.com

Praise for Books One to Four of the Sons of Odin:

Book One – Kirkus

In the opening volume of a complex new fantasy series, Hammer offers readers lavish battles, dizzying amounts of gore, and a system of magical patrons called Battle Angels that fans of the Final Fantasy video games should enjoy. – Kirkus Reviews

The battles, during which the Sons of Odin—and Jean, the Daughter of Thor—summon superpowered guardians, are splatterfests (demons are blasted "into dust and smoke, torn flesh and large spurts of dark blood"). – Kirkus Reviews

A marathon of fantasy gore and slow-building characterizations in a land confronting demons. – Kirkus Reviews

Book Two - BlueInk

Hammer's vivid visual imagery ... makes the character's journeys exhilarating and the battle scenes intense. – BlueInk Reviews

_Druantia's Curse_ is entertaining and full of surprises—from wormholes to vampires—but it requires dedication to track all of the subplots. Casual readers of fantasy may be frustrated by the wealth of detail, but diehard fans will appreciate the Robert Jordan-esque layering of characters, relationships and lands that brings Kismeria to life. – BlueInk Reviews

Book Two - Kirkus

In this second installment of Hammer's ( _Odin's Awakening_ , 2014) epic fantasy series, the complexities of magical warfare and romantic loyalties continue. Taking center stage once again, however, are the action sequences. They're akin to panoramic oil paintings of orgiastic chaos, as when "Hawks, Crows and Pixies broke away from the Shadow Men to punch through vampire chests in bright flares....Skulls exploded on impact, limbs falling as torn debris." – Kirkus Reviews

The use of time-travel and other twists—like the fallout from a romantic triangle among Adem, Jean, and Princess Isabella—deftly prepares fans for a rousing sequel. – Kirkus Reviews

This immersive, colorful, and action-oriented fantasy series smoothly maintains its rapid pace. – Kirkus Reviews

Book Three - Kirkus

In his third installment of the series, Hammer continues to tap a vein of phantasmagoric mayhem that should mesmerize video gamers and fans of the Lord of the Rings alike. Nearly every page displays eye-popping battle visuals: "Lightning filled the sky, a rainbow of coloured bolts, a thousand falling every second to turn the grey haze into a bright neon flare." – Kirkus Reviews

The underlying themes of humanity's imperfection and the individual's struggle toward a truer self permeate this narrative, which sets the heroes in a new direction. – Kirkus Reviews

Provides an action-packed turning point in the series and sets the stage for fresh adventures. – Kirkus Reviews

Book Four – Kirkus

Opening this fourth installment on Earth, Hammer (Arawn's Carnage, 2015, etc.) teases a different kind of narrative. It's not long, however, before his love for mystical carnage reasserts itself. In the hospital, Adem encounters a shadowy figure whose voice was "devastating to behold" and "made him feel that his skin and flesh were being peeled off by the dark energies." This novel follows a beat similar to the prior three, in which armies are assembled, personal demons lay exposed—like Adem dwelling on his affair with Isabelle—and vast battles engulf the land. Plot quirks include the Time Strider Elarja Rinhannen's trip into the past, and the widespread use of the tainted Dark Trail magic. – Kirkus Reviews

Dedicated fans should rejoice. – Kirkus Reviews

Though this tale begins with a unique rhythm, the author's fantasy tropes draw it back into the series' fold. – Kirkus Reviews

Contents

BOOK THREE

Prologue —Calliach

Chapter 1—Handling Isabelle

Chapter 2—Taming the Dragon

Chapter 3—To Earn a Following

Chapter 4—The Dragon's Need

Chapter 5—The Gambit of War

Chapter 6—A Demonic Heart

Chapter 7—Shienden

Chapter 8—Dragon Sword

Chapter 9—Negotiating with Tarz

Chapter 10—The Path Alone

Chapter 11—Evidence of Evil

Chapter 12—The Bait is Set

Chapter 13—The Shadow's Grip

Chapter 14—An Ancient Evil

Chapter 15—The Honds

Chapter 16—Designs of the Shadow

Chapter 17—Battle Angels

Chapter 18—The Martyr Coven

Chapter 19—Return of the Jinn-Lord

Chapter 20—Heroes Old and New

Chapter 21—Elemental Lore

Epilogue

BOOK FOUR

Prologue – A Surprise Visitor

Chapter 1 – A raging Storm

I dedicate Book Three to my good friend, Nathan.

He showed me that faith can be a virtue to be respected.

Book Four is for my dear friend, Alex,

For always being there for me.

Book Three of the Sons of Odin

Arawn's Carnage

Angel-Magic Edition

L. A. Hammer

Prologue

Calliach

Jothar Kelderath suddenly sprang awake, at the sound of his monocle slipping from his coat button; falling and shattering on the stone floor. He'd been dozing in his armchair in his little study, with a warm fire blazing on the marble hearth. He stared upwards with hazy vision, with one of the last books remaining in the palace of Korhad clutched to his chest.

A dark shadow moved across the vaulted stone ceiling, then slithered downwards, and began to rise and take shape on the grey stone wall. A single lantern the only light in the room—other than the dim light of glowbulbs to prevent Souljhin from entering via a Jhin-Tap. The shadow was six feet tall, then eight, then ten. A twelve feet tall shadow took the form of a cloaked and hooded figure, wielding a harvesting scythe that shone blood red. Darkness loomed within the cowl of the figure, and Kelderath was frozen stiff with terror. He realised he was looking into the face of Calliach, also known as the Angel of Death!

He hurled the book at the figure, the scythe swished to slice the hardcover volume down the middle. Then Death raised the scythe above Kelderath's head. He leapt from his chair as the scythe fell to split the red cushioned couch in half! 'Assassin!' he cried. 'Sound the alert!'

Calliach appeared momentarily stunned by the courage Kelderath displayed, roaring like an old lion in the face of his own demise. The door burst open as two of his Golden Owl soldiers charged into the room, spears and shields raised; their crimson armour glowed in the lantern light.

Kelderath rolled to one side, as the scythe fell again to plant halfway through the stone flooring. He reached for his sword, that had fallen beside the broken chair. He had a moment to struggle to his feet; drawing the blade that glowed bright blue. That brief window of opportunity opened due to his brave soldiers charging the cloaked figure; stabbing at his legs with their spears, two feet of steel slicing through the shadow form without a sound.

A swipe of the massive scythe and the two men collapsed, as if having fainted, though the blade did not tear their flesh, even though it should have sliced them into halves. Kelderath understood what this meant. Death had come to take down one man, the one who had been brought back from the grave. He raced for the open doorway, waving his sword as he ran through the hallways shouting, 'Death is here! Raise the alarm!'

He looked back once to see a dark figure in pursuit, scythe blade glowing like magma. Within the cowl a face glowed with pale light; a white human skull with sockets of pure darkness. Before he turned to flee, Kelderath had sworn he'd seen the face grinning with delight, a hunter that finds enjoyment in the pursuit.

***

Hayley sat at her dressing table in a blue silk gown, brushing her long dark hair while staring into the oval mirror. Her liquid dark eyes showed the hunger she felt for her morning cup of goat's blood, that was delayed for some reason. Her usual servant still had not arrived, and she'd sent one of the Aldebrands who watched her door, to see what was causing the delay. Suddenly her Battle Angel sent a warning to her mind.

She heard the door swing inwards—her Aldebrands always knocked before entering, so did Wil, or any of her friends—she sprinted to cross the room to fetch her Lukrorian Bow, raising the weapon pointed at the open doorway. No one entered, silence stretched until she called, 'Who's there?'

A body fell through the doorway, one of her Aldebrands! She crept closer to see the man had bite marks in the side of his neck, and in the hallway, the other dark-haired Aldebrand was slouched against the wall from a similar attack. She would make them her first Vampire Guards if they survived the turning process.

The vampires responsible were gifted to make it this far inside Korhad, without alerting other guards. She slowly crept back inside the room and waited.

At the same time, she allowed Wil to sense her fear through the kigare. She knew Druantia had already alerted Wil's Battle Angels of the situation, and he would be on his way, but if he was a second too late—Something blurred in the corner of her vision, a dark shadow in the shape of a man. She spun with an arrow of amber flame drawn, released three shots, but the shadow was gone. Another blur out the corner of her other eye, she fired again, but the shadow easily evaded the strikes, as golden flames licked the damaged stone walls. That had been another one, so there were two assassins at least.

'I will spare your lives if you agree to serve me,' she said. That had been an idea of hers since she learnt of Tairark's fall, or Serock as they called him now. Without a strong leader, the vampires would be lost for a purpose. She could be that purpose. She could lead them to redemption, those that would follow her orders.

'It's what you are that we want, not what you can offer,' a male voice replied; it seemed to resonate from all around her.

'What am I?' she asked, as she moved in a blur to fetch her sword from beside the bed post, belting the buckle to her waist and drawing the blade in a flicker of motion. Becoming a vampire had made her faster than most immortals, and the half cure from Carl Wilder's spell made her stronger than most vampires. The sword glowed crimson in the shadows of her room. With the shutters closed—apart from the dim light of glowbulbs—the only light was an amber lantern on her desktop, reflected by the mirror. She could open the shutters to flood the room with light, but these shadow beings would surely flee. She wanted to catch them. She wanted answers.

There was silence for some time until she heard the same voice, saying, 'You hold the key to all vampires walking in daylight.' So, it was a kidnapping they intended. That gave her an advantage, they would attempt to capture her and keep her alive.

'You don't stand a chance, you know!' she shouted. 'My husband will be here any moment!'

One of the shadows lurched from the wall, to take the form of a tan skinned immortal in red and gold armour, wielding a sword of orange light. She crossed blades with the attacker, both of them moving with their unnatural vampire speed. The blades flicked and locked in a blur, parry, push, dodge, she spun from harm's way, realising then that they would wound her if necessary. The other shadow lurched from the opposite wall, she was forced backwards by the two attackers, but she wanted to defeat them without the aid of her Battle Angel. Then, she hoped, they would respect her.

She grasped the Ruhalden immortal by the hair with her free hand, twisting his form as the other attacker drove his blade through the Ruhalden's chest. Blood sprayed as the attacker realised his mistake, but it was not enough blood to kill the wounded one. She gave a swift backhand to the jaw of the unwounded vampire, her superior strength sending him flying across the room to hit the wall with a dull thud. She pushed her sword into the wound of the one she held, saying the words, 'Submit to me and I will spare you.'

The other one was on his feet again, he launched across the room with the ability of flight, but Hayley whipped the blade in the downwards arc of Sickle Moon to cut a wound from the man's left eyebrow to lower cheek. He recoiled in pain, and she forced the one she held to the floor with a metallic clank against the stone. Her strength was so great in the movement that the vampire was knocked momentarily unconscious.

She hurled herself at the other one, moving through sword forms with speed and power, forcing him back in fear. When she locked blades, she quickly grasped his armour, throwing him to the floor and kicking his sword out of reach. She began to pummel his body with both hands, while still gripping her sword hilt in her right fist. 'Surrender!' she shouted, until the man threw up his hands in a pleading gesture as he cried, 'Mercy!'

She repeated the same process on the other one, who was now awake but still sprawled on the floor, 'Give up!' she shouted, as the Ruhalden took quite a beating to his chest and torso before he finally cried, 'I surrender!'

Hayley had won their respect; they had displayed honour in defeat. She breathed the name, 'Druantia.' Claws of vines and leaves burst from the stone walls to grasp the two vampire men, pulling them backwards to slam against the walls as her Battle Angel appeared at her side, in a shimmering gown, with flowing hair like dark fire.

She heard footsteps approaching, men shouting outside the hallway, and she sensed Wil was close. He burst through the door with his golden battle-axe in his fists. His eyes regarded Druantia and the two captives as he strode towards her. Aldebrands poured into the room behind him, seven in total before one shouted, 'Hayley Martyr is safe!' to the others gathered in the hallway.

'I'm sorry I took so long, my darling,' Wil said, as he put an arm around her. 'When Dis Pater warned me you were in danger, I gathered soldiers and Aldebrands while I ran, in case it was more than I could handle alone.' She knew he spoke the truth, her husband could run as fast as a Dremelden Wood Kin, but he was more cautious these days, and would have considered it necessary to bring backup.

Both vampires were immortal men, with the eyes like black seeds from their most recent feed. Both wore the red-and-gold armour, dark coats and grey trousers, with black boots. The taller of the two was the Ruhalden, dark hair in braids tied with beads. The other was Dremelden by his fair hair.

'We should question them before we kill them,' Wil said.

'I already know what they had in mind,' Hayley replied. 'I want them to serve me instead.'

'They can't be trusted,' Wil said. 'Fetch Ael Tarael to Shield-Trap them,' Wil instructed one of the Aldebrands, who pressed a fist to his crimson breastplate before Hayley said, 'I'm not sure that will work, husband. Some Nightwalker abilities work beyond Shield-Spells of teron and terael. If this shadow ability is one of them, it will be difficult to keep them imprisoned.' The Ruhalden smirked at that. Hayley said to him, 'If you swear to serve me, I will hold you under my protection. Do you not wish to be free again?'

'The Covens are free!' the Ruhalden spat the words. 'We answer to no one since Tairark was killed.'

'Tairark still lives,' Wil said. 'Shall I fetch him for you?'

'You lie!' the fair haired one said in disbelief. 'Tairark is no more!'

'That may be true in a sense,' Hayley said, with a grin, 'though, he still lives; and he serves the Sons of Odin and the Daughter of Thor.'

'That cannot be true!' the Ruhalden shouted. 'We would sense it if it were true. Tairark's life force is gone from this world.'

'Curious,' Wil said to himself. 'No matter, you will see for yourselves soon enough.'

***

Adem saw the human shadow slide across the far grey stone wall. He unleashed a bar of liquid blue flame from his open palm, the fire struck the wall and a hollow wail sounded as the shadow retreated. Carl stood at his back, gripping his crimson spear as red flames blasted from the tip, aimed at the other shadow on the opposite wall. Again, the shadow retreated, but then both appeared moments later; taking solid human form.

Both drew blades, one that glowed crimson, the other pale green, and launched into an attack. Adem formed a Shield-Sphere, using his thought rather than Angel-Magic, and the crimson blade made a crackling sound as the Shield-Magic pulsed with liquid fire.

Orion rushed to clash blades with the tan skinned vampire, crimson and golden swords releasing hot sparks as both moved with fluid motion through the forms. He heard Tobin clash blades with the other attacker behind him, as Carl and Adem both looked for an opening to hurl another flame attack.

Instead, Adem drew his sword that glowed pale blue, and moved to the opposite side of the vampire. Raven Dives, changing into Bear Claw and then Hawk Moth Flutters. The vampire easily deflected both Orion's and Adem's attacks; this one was exceptional with the blade. Hawk Moth Flutters was necessary to defend himself against the vampire, despite both he and Orion fighting the assassin at the same time. Adem realised he still needed practice at sword fighting; though Arawn and the Arch had gifted him with memories of the lives of ancient warriors of Kismeria. Through these memories his instincts forged him into a great swordsman; in some memories he was even a true Agnar. The effect was a greater knowledge of sword forms, and his reflexes were quicker, but it did not automatically make him anywhere near as skilled as Orion or Tobin.

Out the corner of his eye he saw Carl and Tobin attacking the other one with the green blade, and that one also appeared to be holding them off. Carl dodged the attacks and spun the spear trying to wound or trip his enemy, but that one was also adept at fighting off two men at once.

Lydia and Elmira stood off to one side of the room, both with arms crossed under their breasts, in blue silk gowns and white woollen cloaks. Their expressions suggested they both expected this battle to be over by now. They would not engage the enemy with their own fire attacks however, as this was a match of honour for their husbands to defend them.

Grey Crab, moving into Charging Bull, the sword forms pushed Adem's opponent into retreat, as Orion tried to get an opening to decapitate the vampire. That was the best way to defeat them; it ensured they did not come back to life when your back was turned. Goat Horns then changing into Sickle Moon. Adem was much slower than Orion in his sword forms, but he was fighting with all he had.

This was becoming irritating, so Adem shouted, 'Arawn!' as Carl cried, 'Math Mathonwy!' Two full grown lions of golden fur and dark brown manes appeared behind the vampire, one pulling him to the floor with razor sharp claws and tearing a deep wound through his breastplate. A moment later the second lion bit off the vampire's skull, devouring it in horrid gulps. Adem turned to see two Shadow Hounds standing over the one with the green blade, giant dark wolves that chewed chunks out of the man's throat and tore off his arms, until half the body was devoured. The Lions and Hounds sat back on their hind legs and licked their paws.

'So, I guess we won't be able to question them,' Carl said. Adem grimaced as he stood over the broken body of his opponent. Orion and Tobin were in Alit'aren black coats and trousers, with dark leather boots and the three Rohjor sigils of the Sons of Odin—the Black Wolf, Red Lion and Blue Dragon sigil—on their high collars.

Suddenly Adem was alerted by Arawn of a new danger! 'Kelderath is in trouble!' he said, and then he shouted, 'Llew Llaw Gyffes!'

***

Kelderath was running down a grey stone hallway, with Calliach in pursuit. Adem's Battle Angel, Llew, suddenly appeared, he towered twelve feet tall behind Adem Highlander and Carl Wilder. Wings of fire spread behind the Battle Angel, and he soared over the top of the Sons of Odin. Llew's blade clashed with the Angel of Death, as Carl Wilder shouted, 'Math Mathonwy!'

Shadow Hounds the size of ponies charged down the hallway, biting and clawing at Death's cloak. A red glow surrounded Calliach, and suddenly the four Shadow Hounds recoiled in pain; yelping like startled puppies. The crimson scythe swished across Llew's chest; the Battle Angel fell and the ground trembled. Math Mathonwy appeared, golden armour and cape of blood red fire glowing. He swung his crimson spear; forcing Calliach into a retreat.

'Let him take me!' Kelderath cried, but the Sons of Odin pulled him behind them. Adem shouted, 'We need you!'

Carl shouted, 'Angus!' His dark-kilted Battle Angel appeared, wielding an emerald staff. Angus charged towards Calliach; his staff swinging like a club. Death was forced back by a blast of green fire, as a dull roar ripped the air. The Shadow Hounds had recovered and were howling with rage, when Calliach leapt—both Battle Angels vainly trying to hold him in their grasp—his white bone claws scratching against their armour. A red glow surrounded Calliach, before he struggled free lurching towards Kelderath as Adem shouted, 'Arawn!'

A shadow figure standing ten feet tall appeared before Calliach, swinging his massive crimson blade. Fire Lions tore at his shadow cloak with their teeth and claws; their roars filled the hallway. Two Shadow Hounds pounced from behind—knocking Calliach face down; snarling as they bit into his cloak—then the red glow surrounded his form again. Arawn brought his blade down to hack at Calliach's hooded skull; red flames burst from the sword as the cloak caught alight. Death started to rise again like a dark mist, orange fire flaring up around him. Arawn was smashed to one side by Calliach's sweeping claw.

Adem shouted, 'Shei'heildorth Alfodr!' Kelderath knew the translation from Old Nordic as, 'Spear of Odin!' A white-hot flame flew from Adem's raised right hand; arm pointed like a spear as blue-white fire lanced across the hallway, striking Calliach's heart! The attack flared white in the shadows of the cloak, as his terrible scream filled the air; then in a swirl of shadows and fire, the Angel of Death vanished.

***

Hayley watched Serock, as he stood over the two vampire captives, still entwined in vines via Druantia. Her Battle Angel hovering beside her in an emerald cloak, and blue shining gown, worked with jade leaves. Druantia had seemed more subdued with the curse on terael infecting her mind of late. This worried Hayley; her main concern was the ongoing effects.

Serock wore Alit'aren black today, with brown leather boots. When he stood over these two men, they cowered under his gaze. At first, they did not believe it was him; then something changed their minds in a look he gave them. Then they were truly afraid. It seemed Serock still held some command over the vampire people, whether he chose to exercise that right depended on his proximity to his subjects. After a short while the two captives were forthcoming with all that they knew. The new leader was a vampire named Koncha, formerly a mortal lord from the Southlands. He was old, but not particularly old for a vampire, nor was he considered exceptionally powerful, which intrigued Hayley as to why he was given command. Apparently, he knew things of battle and warfare that were highly regarded amongst the covens.

Hayley found it hard to ignore that there was something alluring about Serock, or Tairark as he was known as the Vampire-King. Perhaps it was the link between him and the curse, that was a part of her soul. So perhaps he had a power of command over her too. For some reason, this did not repulse her. She felt comfortable around him, whether that was a part of his power, or whether she just decided to truly trust the man. His aged immortal face, white hair and moustache also reminded her of her father.

The poor soul who had died before Tairark took over his body must have been old, even for an immortal, to have such pure white hair. His pale eyes were also calming to her nerves, strange as it was to admit. Surprisingly there was gentleness about him. She wondered if this was because Serock's soul was becoming good again. Through good deeds, a person could find redemption for their crimes, she still believed that. It was what kept her balanced between her curse and her mortal soul. She was a vampire, but she was a good vampire.

'I will need to watch them for another two days,' Serock said. 'By then this gift to move as a shadow will have dwindled, due to a lack of human blood. It is safe to feed them goat's blood, to ensure they remain healthy for further questioning.'

'I hope you understand that you will also have to be watched during that time,' Wil said almost as an apology. Serock's control over these attempted kidnappers seemed to elevate Wil's opinion of the man. There was still always the risk that Serock had been sent by Jinn-Fendinn, to win their trust before he committed some devious act of betrayal. For this reason, Serock was still always guarded by six Ael Tarael, who maintained his Shield-Trap, keeping Angel-Magic out of his reach unless there was a need for him to wield. He was also always escorted by four Alit'aren, a diminished guard from his first arrival, though as he earned more trust the level of control over him was reduced.

'I understand, Wil Martyr,' Serock agreed. 'I think it may be necessary for me to speak with Koncha personally on this matter. I wonder if I will be given the freedom to travel alone.'

'I'll need to discuss it with Adem and Carl,' Wil said. 'If you go, it is most likely we will escort you.'

'I fear that would be too dangerous for you,' Serock replied. 'I can handle a few of my own kind, though an entire coven may make things more difficult. Much of my control has faded. I would hope to speak to Koncha about making a peace agreement.'

'You want to make peace with a vampire leader?' Wil asked, as if this was the most ridiculous idea he'd ever heard. Which was odd, considering who he spoke to.

'I would try to reason with him, yes,' Serock replied. 'The Sons of Odin and the Daughter of Thor will be absent from this world for a thousand years. If Hayley remains alive during that time, or your child, they will both be hunted by vampires until an agreement can be reached.'

'Then I will never return to Earth,' Wil said, before Hayley said, 'We've already discussed this, Wil. You will not survive to see the Ragnarök Battle if you do not return to your home world.'

'That is true,' Wil admitted. 'I just can't bear the thought of leaving you to fight this battle alone.'

'I swear to you no harm shall come to Hayley or her child,' Serock said, 'so long as I am able to protect them. I swear it on the names of all the Great Angels, who bear witness to my pledge. I will not fail you.'

'That is somewhat reassuring,' Wil said slowly. 'Know that if you break your word, I will return, and I will make you suffer.'

Hayley then released the prisoners from their bonds, after being advised to by Serock, and the former Vampire-King led the two men—who were now under his control—to the dungeons, followed by his personal guard. Adem and Carl arrived shortly after, along with Jothar Kelderath, Lydia and Elmira and their husbands. Druantia had informed Hayley that the Sons of Odin had just had an encounter with Calliach; reportedly on a mission to return Jothar to the Realm of the Dead. They all appeared a little shaken from the ordeal. Wil had insisted his Brothers could handle it when they received the alert.

Hayley sensed no drama from Jean's emotions through the kigare, suggesting she was safe and had not been targeted in this attempt. Wil explained Serock's request to go and speak with this Koncha about his desires to kidnap Hayley. Adem warned against allowing Serock to return amongst his people, though Wil argued that it may be necessary to ensure another attempt was not made in future years.

'I'll consider it,' Adem said. After the battle at Hordrin's Corridor, Adem had taken over command completely. All decisions had to be finalised by him. Even Jean had started to submit to his demands, though the relationship between those two was still fragile. Jean was having a very hard time coming to grips with Isabelle's pregnancy. It seemed to signify Adem's betrayal tenfold. If Wil ever betrayed Hayley in the same way, even when he returned to his home world, she would never forgive him. But Adem and Jean were not husband and wife of course. Neither woman seemed to agree that Adem had a right to be with more than one woman, and they both fought over him till their wits were deep fried!

Adem seemed the least troubled, except that Jean's silence towards him seemed to add to his pain. He couldn't function normally without Jean on his side. Adem's sickness was also a concern for all of those close to him. Healing-Magic did not seem to have the same effect since he formed that massive link at Hordrin's Corridor. All those who were joined in the chain also showed signs of being unwell, even the Ael Tarael, which suggested there would be more adverse effects from the female curse.

Two of the Aldebrands who had joined in that link, had been prevented from ever again wielding Angel-Magic, after talking in gibberish, and laughing hysterically for days. They were strapped to hospital beds and held with Shield-Traps during that time, until the decision had to be made. That also fell at Adem's feet these days; as he was expected to uphold the decree as strongly as Jean had, so the final decision rested on his word.

Wil had admitted to Hayley that Adem was planning to use the rebel Alit'aren in this confrontation against the Jinn-Lord, perhaps allowing them to wield the full force of Angel-Magic only that one time. Though, once the Sons of Odin returned to their world, the rebels would surely go against the decree, and the Age of Chaos would begin. Hayley did not know who she would turn to during that time, or where she would go, but Serock's faithful pledge gave her some sense of security. She would need a strong protector for her child most of all.

Chapter 1

Handling Isabelle

Jean rolled her eyes as the Ruhalden Princess threw another drastic tantrum. The dark eyed doll had crimson apple cheeks most of the time, though when she was in a mood, they simply shone! 'Why is it you insist on being so difficult all the time?' Jean asked. 'You know your life is in danger without our protection, and Adem has his other pressing duties, so the role falls to me.' Isabelle began to pout, wearing a crimson silk gown, sewn with pearls, and rubies around the plunging neckline; she never failed to make Jean feel jealous of her looks. Her pale face was framed by dark strands of hair, the rest tied back neatly in a thick braid. 'I just get so frustrated being cooped up like this!' Isabelle shouted, like a spoilt child. 'I need some air, and a walk in the gardens.'

'That is too dangerous,' Terese said. The former Hero of Will wore a dark green coat, so long it served as a short skirt, with the thick black belt around her narrow waist. Her boots were emerald green, with tight leather trousers, dyed a pale cream. Terese was also finding it difficult to act as babysitter to the little troll. Handling Isabelle was a task that required extreme patience, and expert execution of control methods. She was a princess, after all.

'It is also too cold for the baby,' Jean added. The winter snows had arrived a week after the first rains. It had to be the shortest autumn on record.

'Why must I be treated like a child?' Isabelle wailed, stamping her red slippers in frustration. 'I am the Ruhalden Princess! My child will be heir to all the thrones of Kismeria! I should give commands, not take them!'

'The situation has changed, little princess,' Jean replied with a glare. Being reminded that the child was Adem's was always painful for Jean. Hearing it from the mouth of the woman who had seduced him was always a slap in the face. Jean wore a golden yellow coat and skirt today, embroidered with white foxes on the sleeves and hem, white stockings and yellow leather boots.

Terese also wore her sword, and two Ael Tarael sat on cushioned chairs along the wall, with three Alit'aren and two Aldebrands posted outside the door.

They were in Jean's chambers, a large, well-furnished room, with a dresser and mirror of stained oak, cushioned armchairs in front of the roaring fireplace. A chest for her belongings sat at the foot of her four posted bed, with red drapery. Adem had not had the pleasure of enjoying those silk sheets, and if her mood did not change, he never would. She did not know if Adem had spent a night with Isabelle since his betrayal, though she believed she would sense it through the kigare, if he did. She had learnt to shield her emotions from him when she wanted to, he on the other hand, was a flood of mood swings, emanating through their spiritual connection, from sunrise to sunset.

Even when she slept, she felt his emotions, he was in pain, and struggling with his mental health. If only they could find a way to mix up some special potion, to treat his illness in the same way that his medication used to work for him. Chemistry was an arcane art in Kismeria, and mental illness had always been treatable through Healing-Magic. There had never been a need to create a medicinal treatment. She had people working on it though. If they could create something effective, it could be used to treat all male wielders. It was possible a similar medicine would need to be created to treat the curse upon terael.

Jean considered all of this, as she half listened to Terese lecturing Isabelle on how to behave. One thing was certain, if Isabelle had a hard time taking orders from Jean, Terese schooled the little brat like she was her dutiful pupil, and without argument most times. Other times Isabelle could show surprising amounts of decorum. No doubt the result of being tutored by many scholars on the proper manners expected of a princess. She was also well taught in the histories of this world, and at times had provided insights that were appreciated, despite Jean's reluctance to admit it. Jean also knew that Isabelle could be very kind to Adem, which brought her some peace of mind, at this point in time, while Jean was unable to find it in her heart to show him the same forms of kindness. Jean wasn't talking to Adem because of what he did with Isabelle, but in a way, she needed Isabelle to look after him while she wasn't speaking to him.

It was a confusing situation, she wondered if she would ever find the strength to completely forgive him. That would mean inviting him back into her bed, perhaps even marriage when they returned to Earth. But she couldn't think that far ahead now without her disappointment resurfacing. 'Try to relax, Isabelle,' Jean said, 'for the sake of the child.'

'I am relaxed!' Isabelle shouted; her arms crossed under her breasts. 'I'm just bored! Can we go and see what Adem is up to?'

'He's very busy,' Jean said. 'There was an attempt to kidnap Hayley.'

'Who made the attempt?' Isabelle asked with intrigue. Rather than face another tantrum for keeping secrets from the woman, Jean explained all she had learnt from her Battle Angels.

Isabelle had stood with a vague expression on her face for some time until she responded with, 'If the vampires could learn this trick to walk in daylight, we may never live to see the Ragnarök Battle.'

'There is still great strength in the Free Lands,' Terese replied.

'My father should know of this,' Isabelle said. 'Perhaps he can send an army to finish the Vampire Covens once and for all.'

'The last time the Sons of Odin made that attempt,' Terese said, 'things got ugly. We need to find another source of great power first.'

'But Jean says this Koncha intends to invade the Free Lands,' Isabelle said.

'He cannot do that until he learns to walk in daylight,' Jean replied. 'Even the overcast winter months are too bright for their kind in this region.'

'Yes, but if Jinn-Fendinn rises from Kerak'Otozi,' Isabelle replied in a lecturing tone, 'He will cover the Free Lands in dark clouds, from the eruptions of the mountain. Vampires will invade and turn this place into a blood farm.'

Jean had to blink in wonder of the glimpses of deep wisdom that occasionally surfaced through that vapid void that was Isabelle's personality. This was an example of the extensive history the immortal princess would profess at times, that never ceased to amaze Jean, much to her discontent to be bested by the woman. 'You make a good point, Isabelle. It seems we need to speak with Adem after all.'

***

Adem waited patiently for Jean and Isabelle to arrive. Most of the time Jean would not speak to him at all, except in official meetings that she felt required his attention. She also always made a point of trying to dominate over his elevation to power. He did his best to accommodate her needs, but he could not allow his followers to see him buckle under pressure.

Orion and Tobin were standing along the side of the chamber, with their wives. On the right stood Carl, Wil and Hayley, along with a half dozen Aldebrands and seven Alit'aren standing on either side of the entrance.

The former kings and queens were kept close most of the time. He felt a deep trust for those four, and a pain of regret for Jean's decision to renounce their ruling over Nordhel and Tarvel. They were still sore over that ordeal, like four proud lions licking their wounds. Adem was gladdened that they had found the peace of mind to forgive Jean. If she tried something like that against his own ruling, he would not be so light-hearted.

When Jean and Isabelle arrived, with Terese and an escort of Aldebrands and Ael Tarael—Jean always brought female wielders to these meetings, as a sign of her own strength as a ruler—Adem was torn between those two beautiful faces, of the women he loved so immensely. In a way he felt that he still loved Jean more—perhaps because she shied away from his affections of late—but the fact that Isabelle was to have his child and heir to the ruling of Kismeria, was something that made him more caring and protective of the Ruhalden Princess. Today she wore that familiar pout that told him she and Jean had been arguing again. It became less about him, fortunately, and more about their continued disagreement to meet on amiable terms.

Jean opened her mouth to speak but Adem raised a hand to silence her, wearing his most dignified expression, as he then gestured to Lydia, who said, 'We stand in the presence of the Blue Water Dragon, Holy is his name, worthy is his cause. Praise him, bow to him, and show him your servitude. Honour him, love him and obey him.'

Adem sat in a large red cushioned throne worked with gilded leaves on the arms, back and legs, with a large golden dragon emblazoned behind his head. He had found the relic in an old furniture storeroom, after questioning Prince Lune on suitable chairs for his meetings. Jean's and Terese's eyebrows lifted till they might float right off their faces as they heard Lydia's pronouncement, and Jean allowed him to sense her rage building. He'd thought up the words of that entire speech himself, designed specifically to irritate Jean in such meetings.

'Most women won't even agree to "obey" their husbands during their wedding oaths where I come from,' Jean said with a sneer. 'Your head has become quite inflated, Adem Highlander. They say the higher you climb, the further you fall.' That comment brought a cough of warning from Elarja RinHannen, who stood to the left of Adem's throne. The emerald eyed immortal had become First Advisor in Adem's new Dragon Council. Arig Flame-Bow stood to his right, his crimson bow sticking up above his grey coat. Elarja wore a sky-blue coat, and black trousers, with aqua leather boots. The Timestrider had also been kept close since Adem first learnt of his abilities. He was a valuable asset of limitless potential.

Adem smiled at Jean, he assumed she saw his sadness, that reflected to her through the kigare. He could put on a brave face, but he could not hide the pain he felt without her at his side.

'You have summoned me to this meeting, Snow Fox,' Adem began, 'with urgent matters that require my immediate attention. As you know, I have many other things on my mind, so if you could get to the point, it would be appreciated.' Again, he was testing his boundaries with her temper.

Jean then told him what she and Isabelle had discussed earlier, about Fendinn rising and the vampire invasion. Adem had overlooked this. If Kerak'Otozi covered the Free Lands in darkness, the vampires could move northward; spreading their disease in a matter of weeks. Werewolves would be an even bigger problem. Adem shivered in memory of the Battle of Morgrahl Kordahn. He might not be so lucky next time.

'So, my point is that we need to seek out another relic of Odin-Magic,' Jean explained with red in her cheeks. Adem sensed she was still fuming. 'We need one to either defeat the Vampire Covens; or to stop the spread of cloud cover from Kerak'Otozi, or both.'

'Imprisoning Fendinn in Kerak'Otozi will stop the spread of both of those problems,' Adem said, as he felt tension building in his brow. Lydia had provided him Healing-Magic this morning, though his illness was becoming so severe he feared he may become immune to such treatments. Suddenly another fierce migraine started to build in his temples, and he resisted the urge to rub them. It seemed stress could bring them on, and Jean's news brought a torrent of it.

'Nevertheless,' Jean said, 'I feel it is imperative that we divide our forces once more, to search for artefacts that may provide us with the protection or the killing force we need.' That brought a sting of panic to Adem's chest as he asked, 'I hope you're not suggesting that you and I separate again, Jean? Besides, I need my armies strong to prepare for our first confrontation against Fendinn.'

'Is that all that concerns you?' Jean asked.

'No, of course not, you're my concern, Jean, your safety. Think what happened last time we left you alone. It's too dangerous to even consider.'

'Still, I must insist, the need is great, and without such a decision we may not have a chance to find what we require.' Adem wondered what game she was playing with him now. The idea of it incited his temper; suddenly he was fuming, as he slammed his fists upon the arms of the chair, using Angel-Magic to amplify his voice as he shouted at her, 'I am in command! You will do as I say! I am the Chosen One! I am the Saviour! You will obey my word!' He was shouting so hard he was short of breath when he finished, he wore a dark scowl, and he felt his temperature rising. That was an old sign of his true illness surging, when the heat started, his brain started to melt as if hot magma had been poured inside his skull. He clutched the sides of his head, as the pain took hold. His vision had become watery, lost from focus as the burning headache tried to overwhelm him. He heard Elarja's voice as if from afar, 'Lord Adem, you must stay calm. Focus your breathing, try to sense for the Tar'deith.'

'He needs my help!' Lydia cried. He saw a blurred blue-and-white figure approach, felt Lydia's soft cool fingers press down around his skull. Lightning filled him, rivers of ice and fire, he shuddered; flexing his arms. His hands gripped the chair as the Healing-Magic flowed through his psyche. It took longer than the usual daily ritual for his eyes to regain focus, when the headache subsided. Finally, all pain was gone, and the heat and cold ceased to flow through him as Lydia released her hold. 'You're getting worse, Adem Highlander!' Lydia said with a pained expression. 'Your illness is spreading. I fear you will soon lose all control.'

He sat back against the throne as she stepped out of his view. Then his eyes rested on Jean, and he realised she'd been withholding her emotions again, because she looked terrified. Her clear blue eyes were wide and startled, her mouth hung open in a snarl that exposed her perfect white teeth. He allowed her to sense his embarrassment and she regained composure. Isabelle stared at him as if she did not know him.

He noticed Carl and Wil giving each other nervous looks, before they both regarded him with caution. They did not try to approach him; both were probably certain he was so far gone he might try to do them harm. Adem took a long gentle breath. 'I mean what I say, Jean. I won't allow you to go off on your own again. Now, is there anything else you wish to tell me?' Jean stood staring at him with a puzzled expression before anger returned, as she replied, 'I hope you and Isabelle are happy together, Adem Highlander, because you and I never will be.' Adem's anxiety struck hard to hear those words, and what he felt from her was pain, searing terrible displeasure, and floating above that emotion was the return of her fear. She feared him because he was mad.

Jean and Terese then marched towards the doorway, leaving Isabelle standing alone. Isabelle gave Adem a nervous grin; rubbing her hands together as if washing them, a sign of feeling unclean. But there was hope and a gleeful satisfaction to her gaze, now that Jean had finally given up on him.

Her little battle was finally won.

Isabelle ran up the flight of steps to kneel beside his throne and take his hand. She clutched his left hand tightly and stroked his brow with her right. 'You have a temperature, my sweetness,' she said with a fearful tone. 'You mustn't let your temper get control of you like that again. You are the Saviour, Adem, but stating the fact in outrage is well ... madness!' Pain pushed at his chest, constricting pressure upon his breastplate. He looked into her eyes and saw the sweetness of her soul.

Isabelle was special, not because she was a princess, but because she was kindhearted and brave, exceptionally wise and openly affectionate. Strangely however the words that slipped from his tongue were not what he intended to say; 'How can I live without her?'

Distress struck Isabelle's visage, then anger returned. She stood and released his hand, folding her arms under her breasts as she replied, 'I think you should receive your Healing-Magic ten times a day! That way, you will remember to appreciate what you still have, instead of stressing over what you can never have again.' She was dignified in her deliverance; then she turned and glided down the steps on her soft slippers. Carl, Wil and Hayley falling in behind her, as her escort, as she left the chamber. With a heavy sigh, he realised, he'd lost all of his closest companions in one meeting.

Chapter 2

Taming the Dragon

Carl marched behind Wil and Hayley, with Isabelle leading the procession back towards her sleeping chambers. This switching of the guard was common ever since it was learnt that Isabelle was to give birth to Adem's heir. Word was beginning to spread amongst the servants and soldiers, and soon the entire lands would know of this union.

Adem's mood swings were another concern, today's outburst was perhaps the most severe sign of his madness spreading.

As they neared Isabelle's chambers Carl began to itch with the urge to speak with the Court Chemists to discuss creating a suitable medicine for Adem. It was not a field of study for Carl back home, so he didn't know any chemical compound names or their base ingredients.

Carl also had certain insights into the fact that the onset of Adem's condition was also related to girl trouble, and similarly to his current predicament, it had involved not one, but two women. Carl decided he might also need to speak with Jean. Her decision to shut Adem out of her life—since his betrayal with Isabelle—was evidently having a serious impact on his mental health. Perhaps if Jean could show her forgiveness and possibly invite some form of intimacy between her and Adem again, his sense of wellbeing might improve.

Those were of course only some of the environmental triggers that had set Adem off all those years ago when he first became ill. The seed of that illness evidently was sown with their shared experience at Bright, over five years before Adem's illness was diagnosed.

This would suggest the only possible cure for Adem long term, was to discover a suitable medication here in Kismeria, or to get him home to Earth as soon as possible to return him to his regular dose of whatever he was taking. Given that he would need to wield Angel-Magic a lot more before that time, it was most likely that he would get much worse.

If things could be repaired between Adem and Jean, they could possibly move in together and consider starting a family. That would be the best arrangement for Adem. Adem loved Jean more than he realised, and whenever he thought he'd lost her, his condition got worse. Perhaps Adem was also too dependent.

Later Carl sat in one of the smaller lounges, grey stone walls hung with bright tapestries and a roaring fire with a white marble hearth. He and Arig sat and discussed Adem's condition, while Arig looked over a small but fat book about mental illness and known treatments. Carl's meeting with Jean hadn't gone well at all, not that he had expected it to. He thought Terese was resisting the urge to attack him when he suggested Jean become more affectionate towards Adem, proposing that she even bed him to soothe his nerves. That had set Jean off too. Carl had never seen the woman so mad with him, or with anyone. It appeared Jean was badly burned from Adem's betrayal. A compromise was reached when Jean agreed that it was possible her shunning Adem had led to his current state of unease. Jean insisted she would try to be more accommodating towards Adem in meetings, and that she would consider seeing him in private when her own mood settled.

'We need him to be sane for the battle against Jinn-Fendinn,' Carl had said, with great concern. 'All our hopes depend on him.'

'I know this,' Jean replied. 'I will do what I can to bring him back to his senses, but I will not be pushed to sleep with him, no matter the cost.'

'The cost could be everything,' Carl replied.

'I will think on it.'

Arig brought him out of his thoughts on the conversation, when he looked up from his book and asked, 'How long has Adem been like this?'

'Officially, over seven years,' Carl replied. 'Why do you ask?'

'There is something here about the length of a person's illness and how that affects their chances of recovery. It seems the longer he is ill, the less likely he can be cured. It references potions to treat a variety of mental problems but gives no source of ingredients or methods of preparation.' The bookshelf and its contents were among the few remaining in all of Kismeria. The High-Servants and their Hex-Keepers had not been entirely thorough in their elimination of all recorded knowledge. There was still some useful material available on that shelf, though Carl loathed the fact that so many books had been destroyed. It set them back a long way.

'So, we have no new leads,' Carl said. Just then he sensed Adem approaching, and his friend was so close that Carl realised he must've been shielding his connection through the kigare. He heard a knock at the door, then Adem stepped through without being announced by the Aldebrands who stood outside. Arig swiftly climbed out of his chair and did his best to make the book vanish before Adem could inquire about the topic. He was standing at the shelf and pretending to look for another book when Carl stretched in his armchair and said, 'We were just discussing your new ability, the one that only requires ki'mera and does not involve teron at all. Yet it is remarkably similar to Angel-Magic and seems to have even greater potential.'

'I know what you were discussing,' Adem said. 'Arawn informed me on the way here.' Carl had not considered that Math Mathonwy and Angus might speak with Adem's Battle Angels. If Adem caught Carl out in too many lies, it was possible he could again become paranoid. Suddenly Carl realised even those thoughts may be passed to Adem's mind through their Battle Angels. He searched Adem's face for any sign of this.

'Yes, the new ability is strange,' Adem said, 'and wonderful. The best part is that it does not involve Jinn-Magic, so the more I use it, the less likely I am to be effected.'

'That is a positive,' Carl remarked. 'But is it a suitable replacement for Angel-Magic? I mean, will you never need to wield teron again?'

'There are times when Angel-Magic feels more accustomed to what I want to do, and vice versa with the new ability. I call it thought into manipulation of matter and energy.'

'I see,' Carl said, 'and I have seen that you are able to create dragons. I wonder ... try creating one now, a smaller one, and I will see if I am able to stabilise its energy to make it something permanent. Now, Adem, show me what you can do.'

Carl waited, as Adem stared at the red carpet over the stone floor for a while, with his hands behind his black coated back. Then something changed in Adem's blue eyes, they appeared to shine for a moment, similarly to the permanent effect of immortal eyes. Then in the centre of their small circle, a green light formed to become the scaled emerald hide of a dragon about the size of a small dog. Its eyes were jet black and bulged out of its crocodile head, with blue wings and a blue beard and claws. Its neck and tail were long and sinuous like a snake, with a bulk of a green body; strong hind legs similar to a horse, forearms muscular like a clawed human limb. Its underbelly was also pale blue, and fang shaped plates ran from the back of its head to its tail, with ears like batwings, green on the back and deep blue on the inside.

The creature made a gleeful sound similar to a whining dog, and then it began chasing its tail in circles before Carl began to wave his hands above the little dragon, speaking softly as he worked an enchantment over its form. Light began to glow around the creature, and it halted and stared at the light around it, as if in wonder. First the light was pure white, then emerald and aqua, crimson flares began to weave around the light, then mauve and orange light. The light became so fierce only Carl was able to keep looking upon it, as Adem and Arig shielded their eyes. The little dragon made more grunts and snorts, as it gazed at the light as if it were the beginning of life; and in a way, it was!

The dragon was now a living breathing creature, made of flesh and bone. It could live for as long as ... he wasn't sure how long dragons lived. There were no more of its kind in this world. Once the spell was complete Carl sensed great magic from the little dragon, and he immediately sensed that his own ability with teron had increased. It seemed Angel-Magic and dragons were linked; with the life of dragons, wielders' strength was greater. This intrigued him, though he refrained from suggesting they make another in case it also increased the strength of Jinn-Magic.

'Amazing,' Adem breathed the words. His eyes were rimmed with darkness. He looked hollow, broken and not at all his usual self. Still, the little dragon seemed to kindle hope in Adem's eyes. 'What should we name him?' Carl thought for a while; then he suggested, 'What if we call him Kerend'harthiel?' It was an Old Nordic name, meaning 'First and last of his kind.' Adem considered the name before he replied, 'He says his name is Shienden'kroxus, it means Dragon-Sword.' Carl gave Adem a puzzled look; then he asked in wonder, 'He can speak to you?'

'In my mind,' Adem said. 'It is similar to the kigare connection. He calls me Father.' That brought a relieved smile to Adem's eyes. Perhaps this little creature could become the source for Adem's recovery.

'What else does he tell you?' Carl asked with interest.

'He says he has been here before; he thinks he is reborn.'

'That is fascinating!' Carl remarked. 'Every life requires a spirit, so this one must've borrowed one from an ancient dragon. I sense Angel-Magic is stronger in me now. Do you also?'

'Yes,' Adem said. 'Arawn says dragons have always increased the magic in the world, for good and for evil. We will be stronger, but Fendinn will also.'

'Should I reverse the spell?'

'No, it is better to have him on our side. Will he get bigger?'

'Can't he tell you that?' Carl asked.

'He isn't sure. He says long ago he was much larger, the biggest dragon to ever live.'

'That sounds promising. But where shall we keep him?'

'The wielders will find a home for him,' Arig said. 'It will take a long time for him to reach full size. This is a good omen. A dragon will be needed at the Ragnarök Battle.'

'Why will we need him?' Adem asked.

'He will be our champion,' Arig said. 'His fire will be the only thing that can harm the Jinn-Lord, except for you, Adem.'

'You mean my magic will be useless against Fendinn?' Carl asked, with concern.

'Only the Fire-Magic of the Blue Water Dragon can really harm the Jinn-Lord,' Arig explained, 'that and Dragonfire and the Magic of Odin. When the Lightning-Lord defeated Him, Jinn-Fendinn became almost immune to all other Great Angels. Only Adem can defeat Him now, but he will require assistance from Odin.' This news only increased Carl's determination to see Adem returned to full health. The battles ahead were entirely reliant upon his ability to fight with a clear mind.

'So, what parts do Wil and I have to play?' Carl asked Arig.

'You are also crucial to Adem's success in those battles. He will require your knowledge and your powers to hold back the demons that try to stand between him and the Jinn-Lord.' That gave Carl a greater sense of purpose. He was still important; he was glad to know his role.

Shienden'kroxus was snorting and whining again, flicking his tail in the air as he sat up on his hind legs like an adoring puppy.

'Is he speaking to you?' Carl asked Adem, to which his friend replied, 'He says he is hungry. He says he likes fresh meat, chicken, beef, lamb, fish, he wants it all.'

'Well, the least we can do is keep him well fed,' Carl said. 'He seems fondest of you, Adem; perhaps you should lead the way.'

'Follow me to the kitchens, Shienden'kroxus!' Adem said, and then he turned to march for the door as the little creature scurried along behind him with his tail lashing the air like a frenzied whip.

Chapter 3

To Earn a Following

Hayley moved towards the cells where the vampires were imprisoned under the watch of Serock. Wil moved at her side with a cautious look to his eyes, wearing a golden breastplate: dark coat and trousers. Hayley wore a crimson gown she had changed into for this meeting. She wanted to remind these creatures that she was one of them. They had turned her maid who normally brought her morning cup of blood. She wanted to punish them for that more than anything; the old woman showed her deep fear when they found her with bite marks in her neck. She offered Tildra a continued place as her servant; she would not let the Sons of Odin turn her away to become a wretched creature of the night.

Four Ael Tarael stood guard around Serock. Another two sat on a stone bench, beside the cell door, where the two men were enclosed behind bars: beds of straw against either wall. The two men were on their feet however, they had been hours without a drop of blood, to reduce their abilities, and now their eyes were human in appearance, the Ruhalden's large dark orbs and the Dremelden's pale green.

Hayley stood in front of the cell and said in a commanding voice, 'Leave us. I want to speak with them in private.'

'I told you I wouldn't agree to this,' Wil interrupted, but Hayley gave him a scalding stare as she replied, 'This is something I have to do, husband. Please, try to understand.' Wil grimaced as his right hand traced the blunt head of his axe with his thumb, then he moved out of sight and stood leaning against a wall shrouded in shadows. Hayley indicated to the Ael Tarael, and they too made a short journey away from the cell, to whisper to one another as they kept a watch over Serock. The former Vampire-King was the last to remain, and she decided he could help her be persuasive with these two, so she allowed him to stay.

'I wonder; what will you do now that your mission has failed?' She addressed that first question to the Ruhalden. The dark-haired man blinked a number of times as if he didn't understand, then he replied, 'I imagine we will face questioning; then burnt at the stake.'

'That is a likely outcome,' Hayley remarked, 'but it doesn't have to be that way.'

'What are you offering?' the Ruhalden asked.

'I'm offering you a chance to escape the bonds of your masters. You have already submitted to me, now I want you to swear to serve me.'

'What would we gain from this bargain?' the Dremelden asked, as the Ruhalden shouted, 'Don't listen to her! It's a trick!'

'What trick would there be in a request for an Oath of Servitude?' Hayley asked with that sly smile on her lips. 'I offer you peace with the people of the Free Lands, and the right to shelter and sustenance in any town or village, and you shall be treated as a guest in the great keeps and cities. What say you?'

'I will swear,' the Dremelden said.

'Don't be foolish!' the Ruhalden snapped.

'Our only other option is death!' the Dremelden cried to his companion. 'I will choose life no matter what the consequences.' Then he got down on one knee, with eyes fixed on Hayley as he said, 'I, Folinx Berethedel, swear by the names of all the Great Angels, in the High Realm and the Low, to serve Hayley Martyr till the end of time, to be her sword and shield to protect her from any danger, to offer counsel and wisdom when asked, and to live a life of a free man, in a service I have chosen.'

'There, that wasn't so hard, was it?' Hayley said with an amused grin. The oath was more than she had expected, though she considered these creatures could be crafty with their words. She addressed the Ruhalden as she said, 'I offer your life, to serve me and my cause, or you may choose death.'

The Ruhalden's eyes burnt with rage, he clasped hands over the bars with long dark nails like claws as he replied, 'I have no fear of death. I serve my master, till death.'

'How can I persuade you then?' Hayley remarked with a finger to her lips. 'Would you swear to the woman who bested you in combat?'

'That has already happened,' snapped the Ruhalden, 'and my decision is made. I will die in service to the Vampire Covens. Our dream to rule this land will never die, so long as there are men like me who will choose death over peace.'

'There may not be many of you left, if men like you persist for much longer,' Serock said. His stare made the Ruhalden flinch, and then the man asked his former master, 'Why have you joined these fools? The High-Jinn will destroy them soon enough. If not, the madmen Alit'aren will turn the Free Lands to blood and fire.'

'You speak like a Prophet,' Serock said, weighing the man behind bars with his gaze. 'I chose the side of the living, in the hope that I too may live. I was wrong to turn from the All-Father. Do you not fear judgement?' The Ruhalden released his grip on the bars, moving back a pace as if in shock of Serock's words, then he placed a hand over his heart as he replied, 'I believe the Nightwalkers have already been judged. We are doomed to walk the earth, murdering others to stay alive. We are hell incarnate. I know my fate when I die, and I welcome it.'

'So brave,' Hayley said. 'But surely you believe in the chance of redemption. Were you such a bad person before the curse fell upon you?'

'I was ... a ship's captain,' the Ruhalden said. 'I had no wife, but there was a woman that I loved dearly.'

'What became of her?' Hayley asked with interest, the man's confessions spoke of the reminiscence of his human soul. Love was a deep human emotion, vampires were selfish creatures; they had great desire, but felt no more for their brides.

'There were three vampire stowaways on board,' the Ruhalden said with a vexed sigh. 'They gave me the option of joining them or being bled dry. So, I joined them. The next day I asked Carellia to do the same. She jumped overboard when she learned what I had become. She told me she would rather drown than love me another minute. I dived in to try to save her, but she was hit by a huge wave that pulled her under. It was night, but I could still see her down there in the dark depths as I swam to her rescue. She was already dead before we reached the surface, so I let the sea take her.'

'And you have never taken a bride since then?' Hayley asked.

'I never felt the same way about any other woman. Vampire brides are lacking in the qualities I remember in her.'

'Tell me your name,' Hayley said.

'Larg Keledren, my Lady,' the man replied.

'You honour me, Larg,' Hayley said with a smile. 'You seem to me a man who needs a cause to follow, discipline, and I believe you also have the capacity to be good again. What would you require to agree to serve me?'

Larg thought on this for a time before he replied, 'Make me a general for the armies of the Sons of Odin.'

Hayley grinned at his eagerness before she said, 'My offer is for you to serve me, and my cause, which is separate from the goals of the Sons. Would you be satisfied if I made you High General of my Coven?'

Larg appeared stunned as he asked, 'You mean you plan to take on more followers? Do you intend to become the next Head Vampire?'

'I intend to give any vampire who attempts to take my life the same ultimatum I gave you. Those that agree shall join my forces, those that refuse, shall die.' Larg stared at Hayley then Serock for some time, until he gave a deep sigh and got to one knee, then stated the same oath as Folinx. When he finished, he stayed on the ground with his eyes lowered until Hayley said, 'A clever choice, Larg Keledren, High General of the Martyr Coven. You may rise.'

***

Adem sat at the dining table that was not as grand a feast as their hosts liked to prepare, with small dishes of sliced roasted meats, whole salmon and trout garnished with lemon, along with an assortment of breads and cheese slices. Carl sat beside him with Tobin and Orion and their wives seated opposite. Shienden'kroxus sat on the floor beside Adem's chair, the little dragon feasting on platters of fish, lamb, turkey and ham. He had quite an appetite for so little a dragon, and he gulped down every mouthful with his tail lashing in the air. Adem liked the dragon, he had owned few pets in his life, but Shienden'kroxus reminded him of a faithful little dog that required much love and attention. He found his mood had changed slightly since Carl had assisted in giving life to his new pet. He felt calm again, and slightly amused by the behaviour of the magical creature.

What concerned him most was how to win back Jean's affections. His first battle against Fendinn was looming, and he feared standing against his greatest opponent without Jean's love to guide him. But it was his fault, he had betrayed her love, and now Isabelle was to have his child. In a way he was excited about being a father, and he wondered at the life his son would live with the expectations of this entire world rested on his shoulders. Adem knew the child was male; of course, as he had insisted Arawn confirm it despite Adem's hesitations about such knowledge being considered bad luck.

He had not decided on a name yet, nor had he informed Isabelle that she was to give birth to a son. He would be able to wield Angel-Magic most certainly, and he would be half immortal, suggesting a very long life with teron to sustain him. He wondered at the fate of his child that he may never know. He hoped he could stay in this world long enough to spend some time with the boy before he returned home. Of course, he also wondered at his capabilities at fatherhood.

'What reports do you have on the Green Border situation?' Adem asked Carl, who was chewing a mouthful of dried fruit. Carl cleared his throat, and then said in a respectful tone, 'Demon movement continues on the borders of Korhad and Kareldon. The north is assembling forces to push them back in that region. We are set to march east tomorrow at dawn.'

'Do you suggest we take Jean, or leave her to guard Isabelle?'

'That is a tricky question,' Carl admitted. 'Isabelle needs our protection, but Jean does also. Whether we take Jean or leave her behind, either way, both women will be in serious danger.'

'What if Hayley remains to guard them also?'

'That would mean leaving them under Serock's guard, and if things get messy, well ... I still don't trust the man.'

'I agree,' Adem said. 'So, should we bring the lot of them?'

'I didn't realise my duties included telling you how to manage your girlfriends. Perhaps you should discuss it with them.' Carl wore that slightly amused grin of his.

'I have to make those decisions for them,' Adem said. 'It is up to me to ensure that they both remain safe. Neither of them seems to care enough about self-preservation and all they want to do is charge into battle at my side.'

'Isabelle waving the banner of the Blue Water Dragon, no doubt,' Carl was still grinning in that way.

'I'm trying to be serious, Carl. It is difficult to work out the safest option. Sure, Terese is strong, and smart, but she would be helpless against Calliestra if she returned with a few extra Hex-Keepers on her side.'

'Two dozen Ael Tarael, fifty Alit'aren, a hundred Aldebrands, and soldiers posted on every hallway and door leading to their chambers. That would suffice with Hayley and Druantia to back up Jean's Battle Angels.'

'Possibly,' Adem said, 'but what if they bring a few Hex-Warlords too?'

'Then we take them with us,' Carl said, sounding irritated, although Adem knew he took the lives of those two women very seriously. 'But you risk making both women a target on the battlefield. If you lose your heir, you and Isabelle would be heartbroken to say the least. If we lose the Daughter of Thor, well, then we lose it all.'

'I won't let that happen,' Adem said. 'They are my responsibility. When Jean was taken by that sleeping spell ... I thought I'd lost her forever. Can you imagine how that felt, after I betrayed her?'

'I can't say I know those exact feelings,' Carl said. 'We'll take them with us and do our best to keep them safe.'

'Should we take a larger force?'

'Perhaps, but that includes the problem of a large-scale retreat: if things get out of our control. I will add another fifty Ael Tarael, and a personal guard of thirty Alit'aren, and two hundred Aldebrands for the women.'

'That should do it,' Adem said, suddenly feeling his hunger really kick in after his morning Healing-Magic. He reached for some slices of roast lamb in gravy and layered it into an open roll with butter. They were mostly drinking water these days, as the apple cider was more potent than wine, and they wished to keep their wits about them in case of another attack. He savoured the hot gravy and lamb in the melted butter and bread, his stomach groaning as he tried to steady his bites to maintain adequate manners. He was soon reaching for another roll when Shienden'kroxus sent to his mind: Will I be joining you on this mission?

You are still a little fellow, Adem replied through the connection similar to the kigare. I would rather you stay here and mind the fort while we take care of things until you are a bit bigger.

Shienden'kroxus snorted with a disappointed look to his large dark eyes.

You would be surprised, Father. I may be young, and small, but I have great strength in me.

All the more reason we should keep you safe until you are a little larger, then. Adem didn't like giving commands to the little dragon. Already their bond seemed to affect his emotions more strongly than his connection to his Battle Angels. When the dragon's emotions changed, Adem felt them change, making him realise the strength of their bond. As he thought about it, he realised it may be because the dragon was his creation. So, in some small way, the dragon was a part of himself, like a son with the same attributes. It was possible the dragon was a part of his own mind, as he was created from Adem's thought.

Shienden'kroxus snorted again and then swished his tail excitedly as he returned to devouring the platters piled before him. Adem gave a soft chuckle, perhaps this little creature could serve as the one companion he could truly trust.

Chapter 4

The Dragon's Need

Adem was seated in his chamber, in front of the fire, when he heard a knock, and asked, 'Who is it?' He was busy speaking with Shienden'kroxus and didn't want the interruption. Then he heard the Aldebrand outside the door calling back, 'The White Snow Fox requests an audience with the Blue Water Dragon.'

Adem nearly leapt out of his chair; then he calmed himself, and asked, 'Where does she want to meet me?' Then he heard Jean's voice calling out with an impatient tone, 'I am here, Adem! I want to talk to you.'

This time Adem did leap out of his chair! Shienden'kroxus wore a puzzled expression, with his brows turning downwards, and his head raised high above his body.

'Then enter, please, Jean.' There was hope in his voice that he could not hide from her. The door opened, and the Aldebrand, Harlton, black of hair with dark eyes, held it out wide as Jean stepped into the doorway.

He felt a lump in his throat that made it hard to swallow, Jean looked amazing! Her hair was in twin braids, thick golden patterns she had learnt from Lydia and Elmira. Her deep blue eyes sparkled like warm ice and she smiled as she stepped into the room and gave a deep curtsy. 'May I request this audience with you, Adem Highlander?' Adem smiled back, feeling relieved for the first time in a while, though it seemed at that moment the only good time he could remember.

'I am honoured by your presence, Lady Jean,' Adem replied, gesturing to the other red cushioned couch for her to sit, with the intention of sitting next to her on the two-seater once she was settled. 'Please sit, shall I order refreshments?'

'You talk like you're a hundred years old,' Jean said as she moved to seat herself on the sofa. She wore an emerald silk gown with white pearls around her neck with a low-cut neckline to display ample bosom. A belt of silver leather surrounded her narrow waist, and he was gazing down at her sparkling white shoes when he heard Terese utter from the doorway, 'I'll be listening in on you two. Keep it clean.' Jean waved her away with a gesture and Harlton pulled the door shut.

Shienden'kroxus immediately rushed to jump on the sofa beside Jean, begging in a whining tone for love and cuddles. 'He likes you a lot,' Adem said, after giving the name of the dragon to Jean. 'He says you are the most beautiful woman in all his memories.'

'You are too kind, Shienden'kroxus,' Jean said. 'A happy little fellow you are, aren't you?' She gave him gentle strokes across his scales that made him curl up close to her making gentle snorting sounds. This was not going at all the way Adem had intended. He tried telling the little dragon, with his thoughts, that he had wanted to sit next to Jean. Shienden did not respond; and continued his undeniably cute noises of comfort and contentment.

'Did you have something you wished to discuss?' He asked in a casual way, keeping a tight rein on his temper.

'I told you I want to talk to you, Adem. How have you been feeling lately? We're all more than a little concerned for you these days.'

'So, you wanted to discuss my mood?'

'That, and other things as well,' she said as she batted her eyelids that accentuated her long eyelashes. Adem was aghast, and he asked, 'So you have come to tell me you forgive me?'

'I have forgiven you, Adem.'

'So, does this mean we can go back to how things were?'

'Forgiveness is not the same as being able to forget,' Jean said. 'I am still deeply hurt by your actions. But I understand that bad feelings between us could unsettle you, so I am here to declare peace.'

'You're all dressed up,' Adem said as he admired her figure, then he looked in her eyes and saw real warmth glowing there as she stared back and said, 'Yes, I wanted to surprise you. I have been speaking with Carl about your condition, and he feels it may require my extra special care to nurse you back to health.'

Adem's brows nearly jumped off his face as he asked, 'Does this mean that we can—'

She cut him off, saying bluntly, 'Do not suppose that I will give myself to you unless I consider it vital to the hope of the Free Lands. I am a woman of duty nowadays, Adem. I want what is best for the people.'

'I wouldn't want you to give yourself to me for any other reason than your own desire,' Adem replied. 'I love you, Jean. I still do, I just, I made a big mistake, and I've been paying for it ever since.'

'It will teach you a lesson, then,' Jean replied as she fixed him with a narrow gaze. 'However, the people must be first on my list of priorities, and the people require a sane hero. So, on this evening, I am all yours, Adem Highlander, to do with as you wish. I won't promise it will happen again but depending on the effects of the treatment I shall consider administering further rehabilitative care.'

Adem thought for some time before he gave a response, the thought that kept buzzing around inside his head was: If I can have another shot at Jean, I'll take it no matter the circumstances! He told himself he was a boorish oaf for even thinking such things, and he said, 'You have to want me, Jean. You have to commit yourself, mind, body and soul. I can't ask you to do that as a duty to the people! I can't accept your offer unless you show me that you truly forgive me and show me the love, we once felt for each other.'

'That could require more time,' Jean said. 'You betrayed our love.' Shienden lifted his snout and made disapproving snorting noises, with a little fire kindled in his large black eyes. 'You see, he understands,' Jean said, still stroking the little animal's scales. 'First, you have to show me that you are truly sorry for what you have done. No more playing Lord of the Castle, no more high demands of servitude and honouring the all-knowing Dragon.'

'I promise I will remove all such formalities from our meetings,' Adem agreed. That voice kept telling him to say whatever was necessary. He got down on one knee and said, 'I am truly sorry for what I have done, Jean,' with his arms outstretched. 'I can't find it in my heart to forgive myself, so if you can't show me true forgiveness, I am lost and alone.'

'You're not alone,' Jean replied. 'You have armies, advisors, even a pet dragon. We all love you, Adem; we're just worried you're ... starting to crack.'

'I feel much better, now that you are here, Jean.'

'And I will feel better when I see you return to your senses. Now, sit on the bed, and I will agree to some light kissing and holding one another. Is your dragon going to stay and watch?'

'Shienden never leaves my side,' Adem said. 'If you are truly committed to this service, you will have to get used to him being present, the whole time.'

'Just some light kissing then,' Jean said with an uncomfortable grin.

***

Jean moved to sit beside Adem on the bedcovers. He looked dark around the eyes, and pale skinned, a haunted look to his gaze. But when she sat and touched his face with her left hand, he reached up to take her hand and kissed her knuckles. 'When you're ready,' she said. She really didn't mind Shienden'kroxus staying in the room and watching, but it still made her uncomfortable at the thought of where this evening might lead.

Adem leaned in to kiss her lips, and she kissed back, gently. It brought back memories of those first days they gave themselves to each other. She felt pain again at the thought of his betrayal, but his kisses were sweet, he was still quite the romantic, and his touch was affectionate, needing.

He pulled her down over the bed and rolled on top of her, they kissed again after he gazed into her eyes with his burning blue orbs. Suddenly his mood had altered, he looked confident again, at ease with his thoughts. Time drifted, and she began to become conscious of the dragon watching.

She heard Shienden making vibrating sounds in his throat—after feeling his gentle footsteps when he leapt onto the bed—and she looked over to see his front claws spread over the sheets, and his head raised and staring moon eyed at them both.

Suddenly the door burst open, she had not heard voices being raised outside, but when she looked up; Isabelle entered the room with a storm in her gaze. She was cold blooded fury welled up to explosive proportions. Jean was certain she was blushing when she pushed Adem away and sat upright, brushing the long sleeves of her gown in a delicate manner as she stared cross-eyed at Isabelle.

'Am I to be mother to the heir of Kismeria, and share you with every doll faced pretty that walks the halls?' Adem gathered himself as he sat up and said, 'Now that's out of line, Isabelle, Jean and I were just ... we were making a pact.'

'I saw what you were doing!' Isabelle shouted with jealous rage; then she looked to Jean and said, 'You said earlier that you were done with him. Now you're throwing yourself at his greed?'

'I think we all need to sit down for another long talk,' Jean said as she checked her pearl earrings—

Dark shadows rose on the walls to surround them in the lantern light, human figures that caused Adem to shout, 'We're under attack!'

Terese charged into the room with immortal speed, and raced to Jean's side, to hand over her emerald bow, that housed the spirit of one of her Battle Angels. In those fleeting moments, she heard Adem shout, 'Arawn!' The shadows took full form, to reveal dozens of vampires, leaping for them from the walls! Fire Lions appeared, to leap upon some of the attackers, biting and clawing to tear vampire flesh to shreds as dark blood flowed. Jean moved with lightning reflexes to unleash arrows of emerald flames that struck the hearts of three armoured men, they died with holes burned through their chests. Dozens more appeared—first as shadows that took human form—and were leaping from the walls to fly towards them as Jean shouted, 'Tanriel!'

Crimson Flame Spears flew from above Jean's form in multiple directions, skewering vampires through the heart to pin them to the walls as their flesh melted off their bones; collapsing into burning piles of ash. Six Aldebrands were already in the room and they and Terese were surrounding Isabelle.

Blades flared brightly in the shadows as more vampires launched from the walls. Aldebrands moved with supernatural speed as they cut down dozens of the assassins in execution style defences. Arawn loomed ten feet tall in his shadow cloak and scaled armour, silver rune-marked skull-mask and gauntlets, unleashing shards of burning light from his open hands, the blades sprayed outwards to punch through vampire bodies that dropped as burning skeletons.

Dozens more appeared and leapt forwards; Arawn and Tanriel holding off most, while Jean continued to fire emerald arrows and Adem threw bolts of lightning in multiple directions at once—the blue flames appeared wherever a vampire took form—burning holes through flesh; the assassins fell like flies. Jean could sense Hayley's alert nature. Tanriel confirmed that Hayley was the real target. Then she told Jean that Adem's orders were to remain here and form a defence: Hayley and Wil can take care of each other.

***

Hayley unleashed a flurry of golden arrows from her bow. Vampires were appearing by the dozen, first as shadow forms, then becoming solid human figures, that leapt through the air, with burning blades or daggers in their fists. The alert had come from Druantia only seconds before the first shadows appeared, fortunately Wil had been with her at the time, and he stood at her back, unleashing golden arrows with the speed of a Dremelden Archer.

They both fired arrows aimed at stunning the enemy, Hayley wanted to keep as many of them alive as she could manage. Druantia also focused on tying up vampires with her vines and leaves, coiling like live serpents to trap and hold them until Hayley could force them to submit. Her Battle Angel hovered in the space between her and Wil, also unleashing jade arrows from an emerald bow. The jade arrows stuck in the vampires and weakened them, paralysing them as they lay twitching on top of one another on the carpet. She would gain a few more followers out of this.

She sheathed her bow, drew her sword as Wil reached for his axe, shouting, 'Eledisren!' Dis Pater appeared as a dark shadow standing ten feet tall, ebony scaled armour, silver monkey skulls hanging across his deep chest plates. The Battle Angel's massive golden axe appeared in an orange burst of flame, as his hands whirled to lift the weapon and strike at enemies with the butt of the haft. The effect dropped the vampires and stunned them, as Druantia's vines reached out to grasp them. The walls were crawling with green foliage, as creepers scaled the grey stone. It was becoming an inside garden, filled with vampires moving in sporadic spasms, while trapped in coils.

Wil shouted, 'Bran!' and Bran appeared as a blue armoured man looming over them like Dis Pater, he wore a golden helmet that surrounded his eyes and curved down like a bird of prey, a golden spear appeared in his hand, and he swung it left and right to knock out vampires that were flying down from the ceiling! Bran was also preserving the lives of his attackers; they knew the plan.

Four vampires made it as close as Hayley's blade's end, two focusing on her as she moved into the forms, Wil reacting to start hacking at the green shields and dark wicked armour the four wore. All had enchanted blades, glowing aqua, emerald, violet and crimson. She guessed they were high up in their ranks as all four were gifted with the blade, she slashed and parried left and right, using her superior strength to ward one off while she tried to deal with the other. Wil was having similar problems when Dis Pater silenced the first two with heavy slams of the end of the axe handle, when Bran spun the spear and gave two hard whacks, to each of the evil looking, ebony helmets, of the two that had been opposing her up till this point. Clanging of armour followed, but it was overpowered by the wailing that began. Scores of voices starting up, the cries of tortured souls, thirsting for blood.

She would make many followers out of this day!

***

Carl was charging down a hallway, headed for Adem's chamber, when a vampire launched from the wall! He aimed his spear, a bolt of red flame piercing the heart of the attacker: he collapsed to become a pile of red ash. Another launched from the left, and he dealt with it in the same way. More were appearing; dozens of shadows moved along the walls, four sprang forwards, two of his Aldebrands crossing swords with the assassins as Carl shouted, 'Math Mathonwy!'

The golden armoured Battle Angel appeared in a flare of coloured flames, wielding his giant crimson Hellfire Spear, as half a dozen black lava-skinned Shadow Hounds launched from his form; pushing down vampires and biting their skulls off. Carl knew of Hayley's wish to preserve the lives of these vampires, as she wanted to form her own Coven. However, much as it pained Carl to kill, he would not risk being bitten by one of these creatures, so he gave them all the death penalty.

Math Mathonwy moved beside Carl as he continued down the hallway, his Aldebrands flanking him, further back, with two in front. Vampires flew towards him, as Math's spear swung to cleave heads from shoulders, and split torsos in two! Blood flowed, like a river around his feet. The stench of death was repugnant.

***

Hayley saw Serock enter the chamber, striding forwards in Alit'aren black coat and trousers, his sword sheathed in the boar hide scabbard at his waist. The white-haired man moved to stand beside Wil and Hayley, with Druantia guarding the other side. Hayley expected him to start attacking, as they three were all desperately fighting for their lives. She sensed the six Ael Tarael who trailed in after him had released him from his Shield-Trap. He raised his right hand, and red flames burst from his closed fist, as swarms of vampires flew towards them, Dis Pater and Bran guarding their outer circle and knocking the attackers to the floor with their enchanted weapons.

Hayley was slashing at those that flew towards her with her crimson sword, only wounding them enough to make them lay still as their bodies began to heal. The wailing of the vampires was overpowering, it was a haunting sound, even making her uneasy. Then the flame in Serock's fist exploded outwards in a sphere, striking the walls, where the vampires were appearing, as shadows that took solid form. When the red flame touched those walls, a flood of vampire bodies spilled onto the blood-soaked floor. It seemed Druantia could not contain those vines enough to avoid crushing some of her captives like ripe fruit. Suddenly, the battle was over, the wailing had ceased, and no more shadows appeared on the vine covered walls.

Hayley gazed around the room at the bounty that lay before her. If she could convince every survivor to serve her, she would have a Coven of over two hundred vampire followers. Serock appeared to look upon them with sorrow, it seemed the man could not help but feel regret for the path he once took. She believed he had changed. She believed he was good again.

Chapter 5

The Gambit of War

Wil sat his mount, his keen sight studying the scorched brown fields and barren grey earth, of the Borderlands. It seemed life was being sucked out of this place, and the apparent infection on plant life seemed to be spreading further west. Carl had told him more than once that he believed they were signs of the Jinn-Lord growing in strength, suggesting he would soon break free from Kerak'Otozi.

Hayley rode beside him on her white mare, today she wore a shimmering blue silk gown, with her dark hair tied back in a thick braid, similar to Terese Sapphire-Sword. Jean and her entourage rode close to Hayley, with a heavy guard surrounding them, mostly formed of Ael Tarael, Alit'aren and Aldebrands.

Their forces had made a swift journey eastward, after leaving Korhad two hours before first light. Their altherin horses made the journey shorter than mortal horses would allow, and they would remain fit and able to make an escape if things got nasty. Heavy cavalry flanked them with light cavalry, pike men and archers forming the front wedge of their forces. Horsemen further back were armed with various weapons, long swords at their waists or axes or spears, some with broadswords over their shoulders, and bows in cases, hanging from their saddles. A large portion of those riders were Aldebrands, or other forms of Agnars, including Dremelden Archers. Wood Kin were also part of the ranks that would use bows and arrows to cut down the demon advance, led by Lord Farrigan and Lady Gwyndel.

Wil spotted a scattering of Nymloc crossing the fields in the distance, close to the mountain ranges that formed the Green Border. Scouts reported large forces of Boli-Kuldr further north, and they would pursue them and push them back to the East Lands, or slaughter every last one of them, but for now, the armies' attention was focused on this small demon gathering.

Adem had called the army to a halt, just to investigate the nature of this demon sighting. If it was another trap, Wil wasn't sure where the demon forces would emerge from, as the mountain ranges in this region did not permit any passageways. The demons would need to scale the steep mountain cliffs to invade.

The sky worried them all too. Those dark clouds from the eruptions of Kerak'Otozi were also spreading westward, allowing demon migration for Nymloc and Jacoulra that normally could not walk in daylight. The clouds were thick black blankets lined with silver and gold edges, blotting out the sun and casting a grey haze over the Borderlands. If those clouds continued to advance, the spring crops might fail to yield in this part of the world.

For now, the entire continent was covered in thick blankets of white snow however, winter had arrived, and the land was returning to a natural cycle of seasons. Here the snow was only seen in patches, the earth itself was heated this close to the East Lands, where pools of magma bubbled in the cracked barren soil.

They watched as the Nymloc horde retreated to the base of the mountains and began to scale the steep stone edges to burrow into crevices and small cave openings that provided their escape. Most likely they were just separated from the main invading forces and decided to flee rather than face such a huge force of warriors.

The other thought that plagued his mind were the hordes of vampires that also served as a personal guard for Hayley. The presence of those cursed creatures put almost everyone else on edge, with his wife the only one who seemed content with the situation. After last night's battle, she'd spent hours in discussion with the survivor Nightwalkers, giving them all the option to follow her, or die. Every survivor had chosen to follow her, and she now led a Coven of two hundred and eleven vampires, sworn to protect her: to follow her anywhere. Over eighty of them were female, and all were mounted behind Hayley's official guard, wearing gleaming armour and armed with shields and blades. Wil still didn't trust them. They had sworn the oath to serve and protect, but what did an oath really mean to a bloodsucker?

The other problem with bringing them along was they would need to wait till nightfall to return to Korhad. The journey before sunrise allowed them to reach the cover of the clouds that flowed from the East Lands; however, those clouds did not yet reach the lands bordering the city. Even if these men and women were loyal to Hayley, their susceptibility to sunlight would create further dilemmas. Even if Carl could alter them all to make them able to walk in sunlight, Wil would not allow such a move, as it would increase the chances of Koncha learning the technique.

***

Rodriel Tarz sat in the Council Chamber at Orodhel, in a meeting with Tobin's son, Prince Turin. The potential new leader of the Nordics was the image of his father, dark of eyes with a hawk's beak of a nose, with a long tail of dark hair falling down his golden armoured back. He wore no crown, yet, but Turin was more than keen to take his father's place as the King of Nordhel. His wife was also present, a slender woman, short for an immortal, of the Nordic bloodline with pale blue eyes and a thick golden braid. She wore blue silk under a white woollen cloak, very much the image of her mother-in-law, Lydia Ever-Light.

A host of council members were also in the chamber, including High Captain General of the Stone Guard, Lord Marishjin Olockendel. Marishjin was an experienced leader, with dark eyes and short black hair tinged with white above his pointed ears. His tanned skin implied Torvellen blood, though his ancestors had been Nordic as far back as the War of the Shadow. The general did most of the talking in this meeting, though he deferred to Prince Turin whenever the man decided to talk over him. Marishjin wore golden armour with a crimson lion emblazoned across the chest, as Turin was also of the Lion Rohjor like his father.

'What of the decree?' Tarz asked Turin. 'What guarantee will you give me that you will renounce the ban on male wielding once you become King of Nordhel?' Turin raised his brows, flourishing his red cloak as he replied, saying, 'You already have my assurances that the decree will be revoked, Tarz. That day will come to pass. For now, the Borderlands are swarming with Shadowspawn. What aid will your Alit'aren give me and my generals to deal with this problem?'

'You know I live to serve, Prince Turin.' Tarz replied with a casual wave, as if he were dismissing the question while submitting to him at the same time. He needed to practice the arts of royal discussions, implying servitude while remaining aloof about expected loyalty. 'My concern is for the battles we will soon face against Jinn-Fendinn. Everything we see, and sense suggests He will rise from Kerak'Otozi, and soon! It is imperative that my Alit'aren be given permission to use whatever means necessary to stand against His might.'

'That will be difficult,' Marishjin interrupted with a bristling of his grey tinged moustache. 'The Daughter of Thor is the real problem there. Even if Prince Turin is raised as the new King, Jean Fairsythe may use her influence to cast him down for disobedience, the same way she did with Tobin and Orion.'

Tarz noted the cautious look to Turin's eyes regarding those statements. The man was surely willing to buckle under the demands of the White Snow Fox if his ruling was challenged. That worried Tarz; he needed a ruler who was willing to go to extremes to enforce his ruling and his commands. Tarz stroked his black woollen coat as if to straighten invisible wrinkles, a distracting tactic as he replied with, 'The Snow Fox will do whatever she can to dominate this world, whether she believes it for the benefit of Kismeria or simply to bully rulers to submit to her demands. You give me your guarantee, but I see that you are nervous about a harsh judgement from that woman.'

'We must tread carefully on this issue,' Marishjin suggested, which earned him a look of reassurance from Turin. 'For now, you must trust in our intentions to restore you to your full status, after we deal with the problems at hand.'

'My men are ready to ride,' Tarz replied with confidence. 'Do we have your permission to wield Angel-Magic against our enemies?'

'I suggest we withhold such strategies until we are outmatched,' Turin said. 'Until that call is made, you will provide Shield-Spells of teron and use your blades to back up our Aldebrands and soldiers.' That reply vexed Tarz to no end. He also knew they would say it as they considered the danger of upsetting the Daughter of Thor. He decided he needed to speak with Adem Highlander. Only the Blue Water Dragon had the authority to challenge Jean Fairsythe.

He stood and gave a short bow to Prince Turin, then followed the other leaders from the chamber as they moved through the hallways in preparation for battle. His thoughts continued to wander as he marched with his chest out; shoulders raised, and arms folded behind his dark coat.

Containing the problems associated with Jinn-Magic was another concern. So far, over fifty of his Aldebrands had become quite ill from the corruption on teron, forcing him to break their capacity to wield, along with eleven immortal Alit'aren. Most of the Aldebrands were mortal, as Jinn-Magic seemed to infect their minds sooner, but the Alit'aren had used vast amounts of Angel-Magic at the Battle of Hordrin's Corridor, and they had become a danger to the safety of others due to their paranoia and potential for harming innocents. He couldn't argue that rabid wolves were needed to serve a greater good, but that was the dilemma he was facing.

He needed to find a way to slow these effects, or none of them would survive to see the Ragnarök Battle. What also concerned him was a rising theory of evil spirits possessing these madmen while they still had the ability to wield. It seemed once their ability to wield was taken away, their evil natures subsided; suggesting these spirits no longer had any use for them and decided to seek out another host. The real concern was that if this theory was accurate, it could devastate the Armies of the All-Father in future confrontations. With spies amongst them serving the Jinn-Lord, their every move could be reported to their enemies if the possessed men were not discovered in time.

Legends suggested there were hundreds of these spirits, ancient and terrible, some more powerful than others. Madness had been so scarce throughout history; that the existence of these evil spirits had been difficult to prove, but Tarz had studied these madmen, and he had seen a presence behind their eyes that disturbed him greatly. More than that, some of the Aldebrands had spoken of Dark Prophecy, that if true, was further evidence that these men were possessed by beings that held knowledge known only to Shadowsouled. Tarz understood only fragments of what they were spluttering, with wild eyes and high-pitched voices, but these pieces of the puzzle suggested these were genuine Prophecies of the Jinn-Lord.

He had alerted his most trusted advisors of this danger, and all were on the alert, however, any one of them could be the next victim if Jinn-Magic infected them enough to make them sufficient hosts. Who could he place his trust in, when enemies were appearing in the minds of his closest companions?

***

Adem sat his mount, the dark stallion stamped impatiently as he held the reins tighter in his grip. He wore black armour with a blue dragon across the chest, Alit'aren black trousers, coat and boots. Most of the army wore their cloaks, including the shadow material Aldebrand cloaks on those not wearing the ghoda'sidhe masks and gauntlets with tightly wrapped black material on the arms, chest and legs. Most of his personal guard wore the warrior garb, in masks and gauntlets of pale blue lacquer over steel. They were his Dragon Guard, over three hundred of them, both Aldebrands and Alit'aren.

They had moved at a swift pace further north for over an hour; then moved at a trot to allow the horses to gain sufficient rest before battle. Now, Adem watched riders moving through the warp of Air-Magic, that shimmered with pale light, in the shape of a large rectangle, large enough for thirty riders to pass through abreast. He required a link with six other Alit'aren to create a portal that size, and he dared not risk forming a chain with more wielders. It could increase his illness dramatically.

Serock had taught him the spell as a variation of the one used by the former High-Servant. Jean, Carl and Wil also knew how to create the portals, though none had tried yet. It was kept a secret from anyone else for the time being. If Alit'aren began turning mad or became possessed by evil spirits—as evidence suggested was happening—they could not risk them knowing such Portal-Magic to travel the world in a leap, creating havoc with Angel-Magic. Serock had also shown them how to disguise their Angel-Magic so that other wielders could not easily learn the technique. This method was how the High-Servants were able to keep this form of Angel-Magic a secret for over four thousand years.

They were sending through small parties of riders, at different positions, behind the enemy lines, further north, in an attempt to close in around them. The portals were also used to send the scouts, with one rider remaining, with a spear planted in the earth, to mark where Adem would reform the portal, for their return. So far, the plan was working. This new spell was vital to their hopes of victory over Fendinn in future battles. Adem couldn't see any way that Fendinn was still using Serock for some secret plot, yet his knowledge of the Jinn-Lord suggested he was devious in such ways. Whatever the case, they had learnt a skill that made them ten times more efficient, in fact, the possibilities were endless.

'I hope we're not marching right into another trap,' Carl said from his saddle to Adem's right. 'The Borderlands make me nervous. There are too many places where the enemy could spill forth to create an ambush.'

'We have better chances here than in the Free Lands,' Elarja replied, riding beside Adem to the left, with Tobin and Lydia to the left of Elarja, and Orion and Elmira flanking Carl. 'At least here we have the mountains to hold them back at most points, though the scouts watching the gaps like Hordrin's Corridor are necessary to avoid being caught by surprise.'

'Things will go better this time,' Adem said. 'At least I hope so. We lack the Heart of Odin this time, and I fear Odin will not show himself again until we acquire a similar artefact of his Odin-Magic. We must move with caution.'

'What news of the rebels to the north?' Carl asked.

'Scouts report no movement from them yet,' Adem replied. 'For now, we are on our own.'

'The demon swarms are gathered in the region east of Orodhel,' Elarja said. 'Surely Prince Turin will send an army to deal with them also.'

'That could result in a confrontation with the rebel Alit'aren and our own forces,' Carl said. 'Do you have a plan to deal with such an eventuality, Adem?'

'Tarz is loyal to me now. He will not cause trouble while I lead.'

'I'm not so certain,' Carl replied.

'Leave the rebels to me. I will make use of them when the time is right.' Carl was right to show concern, however. If the rebels decided to attack them, Adem wasn't certain even the Sons of Odin and the Daughter of Thor combined could outmatch them. 'On another topic, what do we know about the vampire situation surrounding Nordhel?'

'It looks bad,' Carl said. 'There are reports of entire villages infected; those that refused to seek protection behind the walls of Nordhel. Even in the city they have begun raids on homes where people are not seen for days, suggesting they cannot walk in sunlight. Over fifty homes have been searched, and thirty of those housed Nightwalkers newly turned. It seems without Tairark to call them to him; these newly bred vampires simply hide in darkness and seek out victims to stay alive when the thirst strikes.'

'Are you suggesting they are not evil?' Orion asked that question, addressing Carl. 'What of their need for human blood?'

'Look at Hayley's followers!' Carl said. 'They now serve her willingly, and they will survive on goat's blood. I believe that makes them seem quite harmless.'

'All of them would've fed on human victims before they attacked us last night,' Adem said in a harsh tone. 'They are yet to prove themselves worthy of joining our forces. We will see what good they can do on the battlefield.'

'Everyone deserves a second chance,' Carl said; blue eyes shining like orbs of ice. 'Like your new best friend Serock.'

'He's not my friend,' Adem said in irritation. 'He's a tool to be used, not trusted. Just like Hayley's new entourage of neck biters.'

***

Serock stepped through a warp of Air-Magic, that shimmered with shadows and light. He moved in one step from his sleeping quarters in Korhad, to one of the higher stone slabs piled in pyramid formation, that was his old home, the vampire lair known as Morgrahl Kordahn. The Southlands were darker than he remembered; suggesting the cloud cover was growing thicker as it spread from the eruptions of Kerak'Otozi.

He was met at one of the dark doorways to the chambers by a werewolf in human form, a dark eyed man with a long black braid of hair, wearing golden armour and dark trousers with a bow in one hand and a quiver over his shoulder. He recognized the man, formerly a Southland mortal named Kaiglen. It took a moment for the man to recognize Serock as the former Vampire-King; then he gave a short bow and welcomed him inside the stone ruins. 'Lord Koncha believed you to be dead, Lord Tairark,' Kaiglen remarked as they moved through the dark passageways; surrounded by coffins where vampires slept during the daylight hours.

'I go by the name Serock these days.'

'Have you returned to take over command?' Kaiglen asked with a nervous croak to his voice. Serock did not reply, and they moved deeper through the vaults and chambers, down winding staircases of grey stone with red lights glowing in the walls, an enchantment he had created that was harmless to vampires. He was surprised the lights still glowed after he had been murdered and then reincarnated, though Angel-Magic was everlasting, changing from one form to another, but never being fully exhausted.

'What plans does your new master have, besides capturing the wife of Wil Martyr?' He decided he should probe the werewolf for information before meeting with Koncha, and Kaiglen asked in an even more startled tone, 'Are you siding with Hayley Martyr?'

'Answer my question,' Serock replied. Kaiglen was silent as they walked for a time, then he said, 'Koncha only discusses his plotting with his generals. All I know is that he intends to invade the Free Lands as soon as possible.'

'And he requires Hayley Martyr to achieve this aim.'

'Perhaps not,' Kaiglen replied, with more confidence. 'All signs suggest Jinn-Fendinn will rise from his Resting Point in the next year or two. When his clouds cover the Free Lands, we will advance.'

'And when the crops fail in the Free Lands, and there is no longer food for the farm animals and wild game, the people will perish, and without blood to sustain you, you will all starve. Your cause is futile.'

Kaiglen was silent again as they moved through a series of arched doorways over a slab of marble that shone with a pale green light. Then he said, 'The Armies of the Shadow will wipe out all life in the Free Lands sooner or later. The end is inevitable; then we will sleep for eternity.'

'Do you really believe you will get much sleep in the pits of Hellfire?'

Again, silence stretched in the darkness until Kaiglen asked, 'What alternative is there?'

'Hayley Martyr offers a new alternative,' Serock said, trying a new tactic. 'She will grant peace between the Covens and the Free Lands, for those who swear to follow her and fight at her side. Animal blood will be provided under any roof, as a new pact enforced by the Sons of Odin. Even the great cities will provide you shelter and sustenance, as long as you serve the Armies of Odin.'

'Has any of our kind sworn the oath?'

'Every survivor of the attack last night has become a personal guard for Hayley Martyr. Over two hundred vampires are now under the protection of the Sons of Odin and the Daughter of Thor.' Kaiglen stopped, and turned to face Serock, his eyes had a faraway look that also seemed to be filled with new hope. 'I would be killed if Koncha learnt that I told others of this opportunity.'

'Then speak only with those you trust,' Serock replied, resisting a grin after planting a seed of rebellion.

Chapter 6

A Demonic Heart

Crossbow bolts and arrows filled the sky with darkness, as a volley launched towards the advancing horde of Boli-Kuldr, black plated armour on chests and shoulders of thick muscled beasts; skulls like rams or bulls and large hooves for feet. The Boli-Kuldr were charging now, all of them at least eight feet tall, some ten feet tall, wielding pikes, hammers or dark axes. They moved in a stampede, dredging up clouds of dust and ash that swirled in the air under the dark clouded skies. The thunder of those hooves made the earth tremble, but Adem's forces stood their ground, Alit'aren creating Shield-Walls in linked chains, to support their strength to levels that could even withstand an attack of this magnitude.

The arrows hacked down the front lines of the enemy, bull and ram skulled beasts falling to be trampled by the advancing lines, a second volley of arrows, and a third and fourth while the crossbowmen attempted to reload. This was not an ideal position for facing a Boli-Kuldr horde, on flat ground with no raised position to avoid such charges. For now, the Shield-Spells would hold. Ael Tarael began to perform their Angel-Magics; the earth erupted with waves of golden-orange flames, spouting twelve feet into the air, twenty paces wide and moving through the demon ranks up to ten bodies deep. The Boli-Kuldr roared as they were torn apart by the Fire-Magic, as Flame Leopards leapt from the fires to bite and claw at the demons, setting flesh alight as they charged through their ranks.

The Boli-Kuldr were closing the gap now, the front lines charging to attempt to shatter the Alit'aren Shield-Spells, as horns and blades struck the liquid-blue fire, the Shield-Walls held, and dust blew up in clouds as demon hooves skidded in the dirt. The rear lines of the assault began to pile up as the front lines were halted, clanging of armour and grunts and snarls of impatient monsters.

Adem rode his dark stallion, behind the heavy cavalry, and his Dragon Guard surrounded his horse, Carl to his left with Orion and Elmira, and Arig, Elarja, Tobin and Lydia to his right. Adem used his thought into matter manipulation—twelve feet tall Golden Soldiers rose up from the earth behind the enemy lines. Adem enhanced his voice with Angel-Magic as he shouted to his Alit'aren, 'Shields!'

Fourteen Golden Soldiers raised laser cannon arms that released beams of neon crimson light as thick as his forearm, slicing through demon flesh as thousands of dark armoured bodies collapsed in bursts of blood and flame, the lasers striking as far as the Alit'aren Shield-Walls that were double reinforced on Adem's command. Boli-Kuldr bodies were ripped apart, torsos cut in half, shoulders, limbs and skulls flying in sprays of dark blood as the lasers severed and sealed flesh and bone. They had used this technique four times already, in total wiping out close to three thousand demons by his estimate. The hordes were lured in this direction by smaller forces he transported via his new portal technique; then he put larger forces behind those enemy lines to push them into attack mode, as they were being crushed between two armies and would need to charge through to escape.

But they could not escape, and Kelderath's battle strategies were working like a charm. The Captain General sat his mount further to Adem's right, shouting commands and roaring like an old lion, with Maldros and Morthros by his side, those other two looking uncomfortable yet proud in his presence.

Golden Soldiers of that size and number were draining Adem's ki'mera reserves, which reduced the potential effectiveness of his Battle Angels if they were needed in this fight. But Kelderath's plan was to pen these animals in and lead them to the slaughterhouse.

***

Tarz watched the battle unfold, as he sat his dark stallion, behind ranks of Alit'aren and Seidr'tera. They held the Shield-Walls that formed the front wedge of their defences, archers and crossbowmen firing volleys over those Shield-Spells to hammer the Boli-Kuldr and Rahkwel ranks into the dirt. The snow-covered fields were black with demon blood, as the beasts and goblins charged and battered themselves against the Wall-Magic, only to be slaughtered by heavy cavalry attacking their flanks; slicing them up with lances and spears, black armoured bodies becoming trampled under the hooves of thousands of altherin horses.

The technique was working for now, but Tarz was wary of a possible trap by the enemy. They seemed too disorganized, with only a few Souljhin seen herding the hordes out of three encounters, each time facing only a few hundred Boli-Kuldr and a scattering of Rahkwel and Nymloc.

Scouts reported larger hordes further south, as well as sightings of soldiers of Korhad marching out of holes in the air. That news was the most intriguing to Tarz. If Adem Highlander had learnt a new method of warping space to travel from one place to another in a single step, Tarz would need to gain this knowledge for himself and his men. Such a tactic was vital in the hope of being able to stand against Fendinn and his armies.

He loathed watching a battle where he and his men were restricted in their wielding. He felt an itch to cast a lightning bolt or to make the earth heave with golden flames. Yet he followed the orders he was given, serving only as a commander, not even lending his might to reinforce the Shield-Spells when the Boli-Kuldr began to charge, the force of impact of such an attack being greater than a stampede of bulls, but linked in large chains the Alit'aren and Seidr'tera were able to hold off the enemy. Aldebrands and soldiers hacked through those Shield-Walls with the speed of immortal warriors; the front lines of the enemy falling with fatal wounds through their dark plated armour.

The dip in the landscape always kept the enemy unaware of the larger force of riders waiting to charge down the hillside from the west flank, obliterating the demons as they attempted to flee, but their ranks were always too tight, and they roared with beastly cries of fear as they were cut to pieces. Ravens began to circle the skies, scavengers overseeing the bloodshed, but perhaps also scouting for their masters. In the old days those birds would've been knocked out of the sky with Fire-Magic. With the new restrictions, they would not even waste their arrows on them. This was less of a battle, and more a mission of sweeping the roads clear. Ravens swooped to peck at the demon corpses as his riders began to move southwards.

***

Adem watched the Boli-Kuldr ranks scatter under the force of his attacks. There were many hordes gathered in the mountain caves and crevices, most likely part of some plan to ambush Adem's armies, yet Jinn-Magic made Alit'aren as keen to the sense of a demon presence as it had always been for Aldebrands via the gift. Even Adem knew where they were hiding, and he gestured, using his thought to create explosions like pathways of dynamite buried in the mountains. Golden-orange light blossomed like small stars as great booming roars shook the mountain paths, stone collapsing as whole sides of the mountains were blasted away to cover the surprised demon ranks.

Carl and Wil created their own attacks of similar style, both of them wielding Angel-Magic, while Adem only used his thought into manipulation of matter to create his explosions. Red and golden flames burst from the dark stone as demon body parts flew into the air in bursts of fire and blood. Jean sat her mount further behind ranks of her personal guard, Terese at her side and Hayley further back with her Vampire Guard on her flanks.

So far there had been no need to summon any of their Battle Angels, though scouts reported the largest hordes were gathered further north, about an hour's ride if the horses were pushed hard at a gallop only possible for altherin breeds. Behind those Boli-Kuldr lines, his smaller parties of riders pushed the demons further southward, towards a bowl in the landscape where Kelderath was intending them to go. If they could reach the bowl in time to trap the enemy, the Battle Angels would be used to perform a massacre.

Of course, there was no need to push the horses to such limits when Adem could move his forces there in the half hour it would take to move the riders through one of those Magic-Portals. That gave him more time to focus his aggression against his enemies here. Blasts of golden magma erupted like a cluster of grenades, demons torn to shreds in blood and fire!

***

Lady Gwyndel gave the order as a hail of arrows fell upon the demon ranks. They were herding the enemy towards a mountain range divided by a large bowl in the landscape. Their aim was to push the demons into the bowl in time for the Sons of Odin to spring their trap. Lord Farrigan sat his mount alongside her pale mare—wearing the torin'sidhe camouflage under a cloak of shadows—the tan skinned Dremelden's dark hair blowing in the wind, as he swiftly drew and released a number of arrows from his bow, each shaft meeting a target in the neck or skull, as demons fell in waves. Gwyndel wore an emerald coat that hung below the waist, dark leather trousers and brown knee-high boots. She wielded the Lukrorian Bow that had once served as the Resting Point for the Battle Angel, Druantia, though now the enchanted weapon only served for unleashing arrows of flame. There were only fifty female Archers in her clan on this side mission, the rest of the force made up of male Dremelden Archers, Wood Kin and Aldebrands wielding wooden bows and steel tipped arrows, with two hundred heavy-cavalry for sweeping the fields if they were routed by the enemy. The women Archers all wielded Lukrorian Bows, though they were conserving their strength for defending against possible sudden retaliation.

Thousands of Boli-Kuldr fled through the flat barren fields ahead of their attacks, hollering like wild animals as dark arrow shafts pursued their attempted escape. Thousands more had already been pushed between the mountain pass towards the bowl in the landscape. The demons hoped to cross through the bowl to reach a pass in the Borderland mountain ranges to return to the East Lands. For now, Adem Highlander's plan was a success. The Boli-Kuldr crossed the landscape on pounding hooves and goat or bull shaped legs; fading into the horizon as Gwyndel and Farrigan moved their riders after them at a careful pace. If the demons decided to turn about and make a charge for their small forces, they could be wiped out as they were lacking sufficient numbers of Ael Tarael and Alit'aren to form Shield-Walls.

Twenty Alit'aren formed lines behind the cavalry, though there were only a handful of Ael Tarael to unleash Fire Leopards if things got out of control. Fortunately, the enemy continued to flee; clearly, they did not see the trap that was set for them. Gwyndel said a silent prayer for her good fortune this day.

***

Tarz ordered the riders to a halt, as they neared the edge of the large bowl in the landscape. Within the bowl were over ten thousand demons, mostly Boli-Kuldr, at least seven thousand or more, with dark skinned Nymloc and Jacoulra seen amongst the smaller packs of Rahkwel; seven feet tall goblin men armed to the teeth. The rising hills on either side of the bowl made it impossible to cross this stretch of land without entering the dip in the landscape known as Eolryon's Chalice.

As Tarz's forces neared the lip of the bowl, the demons saw their mistake. On the southern side of the bowl, riders fanned out a thousand horses abreast, and from his saddle, Tarz could see the lines of riders were more than ten ranks deep. They were Adem Highlander's Korhadian warriors, who must've appeared out of one of those miraculous holes in the air before the riders approached the Chalice.

The result was a swarm of demons herded like cattle in a trench for the slaughter. Guttural cries and screams of rage or panic erupted from the demon ranks, as those who were moving towards the southern end of the bowl halted in their tracks. Boli-Kuldr formed lines with giant black spears and pikes forming a great dark serpent with a spine of many spikes. A similar defence was created on the northern side of the bowl, with some Rahkwel joining with the larger Boli-Kuldr demons to form a wedge, to defend against a charge by Tarz and his men.

In such a situation, Tarz ached to wield Angel-Magic to full effect, but without the permission of the Prince or Adem Highlander, he would face the wrath of Jean Fairsythe. He shivered at the thought of being cut from teron. He raised his fist to the sky; as he enhanced his voice with Air-Magic; 'Archers, take position!' A thousand Elf-Archers spread in a line along the lip of the Chalice. 'Pike men prepare to defend!'

Tarz could see his role from here on in. His Alit'aren would form lines behind the front defences, creating shields if any demons made it to the top of the bowl, otherwise his archers would pick off demons that attempted to escape, with pike men to take over if a considerable horde managed to reach the line of Shield-Walls. He watched as the sky above suddenly became a vortex of swirling dark clouds, a roar of thunder tore the air, as lightning began to rain in forked bolts of crimson, aqua, golden and emerald—the familiar sign of Battle Angels forming a Link. The lightning fell a hundred bolts every half second, striking a different point within the bowl each time they launched from the clouds like Spears of Odin. The earth erupted in stone and flames, blood and bones flying as armour and flesh exploded. Demons ran from the blasts in balls of flame, screaming as flesh melted from their bones. Those were the Boli-Kuldr and Rahkwel, while Nymloc and Jacoulra were reduced to ashes in seconds by the Elemental Magic.

Shadow Hounds appeared, at least fifty of the pony-sized dark-skinned beasts that charged down the southern edge of the Chalice, roaring with bloodlust as golden magma danced across their forms. As the Hounds began to tear through the demon ranks, fifty Fire Lions appeared amongst them, tearing and biting through armour and flesh, as fire and lightning exploded outwards from their forms.

Demons began to scatter on the northern edge of the bowl, charging to flee the carnage that surged towards them, breaking rank and howling with fear in the voices of wild beasts. 'Archers, fire!' Rain of dark arrow shafts and crossbow bolts flew on a direct downward angle to punch through the dark Boli-Kuldr and Rahkwel armour like hot knives through butter. Close to three hundred demons fell from the first attack and were trampled by the lines behind them that pushed for an escape. A second and third wave of arrows fell to strike through breastplates, necks and eye sockets, with the crossbows added for the fourth wave, over six hundred Boli-Kuldr and fifty Rahkwel fell with three or four arrow shafts in each.

Tarz shouted, 'Ready pikes!' The lines of archers retreated behind the pike men, with Agnars, Aldebrands and some Alit'aren amongst those lines, with the wielders in small linked chains to create Shield-Spells strong enough to hold back the advancing demons. The archers moved back behind the front lines; then continued to fire volleys over the Shield-Walls, to slow the beasts that tried to escape the slaughterhouse.

It was times like this that Tarz felt it was good to be alive!

***

Adem watched the peak of the vortex in the sky, waiting as he sat his mount, surrounded by his Dragon Guard, looking over the edge of Eolryon's Chalice. A tornado appeared in the centre of the lightning storm, and from that swirling grey finger of clouds, the shining armour, and wings of fire, of four Battle Angels began to glow.

Tanriel hovered at the peak of the storm—blue wings of fire behind her crimson armour with waves of golden hair blowing in the storm winds—raising her right fist as a crimson spear of flames appeared in her grasp. She hurled the spear, and in that instant, below her and further out in a circle around the vortex appeared Arawn in his plated black armour, wings of shadow flame and mask of rune covered steel, in the likeness of a human skull, as well as Dis Pater on golden wings—dark breastplate and long dark hair around his square human face with sad dark eyes—and a larger crimson spear appeared in both of the male Battle Angels' grasps, as well as Math Mathonwy with wings of red flame, golden armour and a flowing yellow beard, the third male Battle Angel also hurling a spear of fire.

As they unleashed their attacks, the spears became dozens of crimson shafts flying from the fists of each Battle Angel, over a hundred massive spears striking the earth within the demon ranks. Orange flames burst outwards from the weapons in blazing sheets—each spear sending fire in an X axis and all at different angles so that the bowl in the landscape was a scorching furnace—that tore through demon armour and flesh, ripping limbs and skulls apart in bursts of blood and fire, vaporizing Nymloc and Jacoulra to create vast piles of burning ashes!

Adem saw it all too clearly with teron in his veins, something he still required Angel-Magic to achieve. The attack was devastating to the demon forces, wiping out the bulk of the ten thousand or so enemies with that single Linked attack of immense power and ferocity. Shadow Hounds and Fire Lions numbered in the hundreds now, pulling apart the surviving demons, biting off limbs and skulls and setting flesh alight with the lightning and fire that burst from their forms. Ki'mera orbs soared into the sky from the carnage below, a swirling rainbow sea of light that was absorbed by the Battle Angels to fuel their strength and stamina. Waves of the demon soul energies also flowed to Adem, Carl, Wil and Jean, as each had a Battle Angel involved in this onslaught.

Arawn, Dis Pater and Math Mathonwy swooped down out of the vortex, moving outwards in three directions to hack and slash through the demon army with their enchanted weapons blazing. Arawn carved a path through the remaining bulk of Boli-Kuldr bodies with his seven feet long crimson sword, cutting torsos in half; decapitating bull and ram skulled beasts. The shadow cloaked Battle Angel was a raging storm of carnage! Sheets of crimson flame burst from every swipe of his blade in a sweeping arc to hack down Boli-Kuldr and Rahkwel ten ranks deep! Adem sensed the evil seeping into his first Battle Angel via Jinn-Magic within teron. It was taking over Arawn's soul. Adem wondered when it would finally drag them all down into fits of madness and chaos.

Math and Dis Pater were also wreaking havoc on the battlefield, golden fire erupting from the great golden axe, and Math's massive crimson spear released sheets of golden-orange flames that tore through flesh and bone, blood spraying and demons turning into dust! It was a total annihilation of the enemy forces, demons frantically screaming in terror in the wake of bloodlust and incredible power. Today was a great victory. He knew it was because Jean had forgiven him. He was focused. He could breathe again.

When the battle was ended, and the ravens covered the demon corpses by the thousands, Adem and the two armies watched a single bull skulled Boli-Kuldr scrambling up the sloping landscape in an attempt to escape the pit of death. There was silence all around as the men and women watched almost in pity of the horrid creature as it made desperate grunts and wails of despair or panic. It knew its fate, yet still it hoped to live. All alone and facing death, the creature displayed a gentleness and a fragile state of mind he had never expected possible to perceive. Adem felt true pain in his heart towards this beast, the first time he could admit actually feeling sympathy for a true servant of Jinn-Fendinn. Adem could not find it within himself to put the creature out of its misery and felt a pang of regret as he gave the signal; archers fired a volley to feather the back of the demon with arrow shafts. As it gave its last cries of pain and slid back down the Chalice towards its slaughtered brothers, Adem realised that even these bloodthirsty monsters were victims in the Jinn-Lord's incessant schemes. They were all victims, all pawns in a duel between the All-Father and his Eternal Enemy. But leaving the creature to live would result in greater consequences, as it would survive to do more harm, perhaps raiding villages and feeding its insatiable hunger for murder. It was the creature's fear and vulnerability that stirred such emotions in Adem.

We're all victims in this game!

He turned Tarkson about and began to ride towards a warp in the air wide enough for twenty riders abreast. Those Portal-Spells were going to increase his illness over time, unless he could figure out a way to create them without harnessing teron first. He had seen Tarz on the northern side of the Chalice before he turned to leave, the dark eyed man had raised a fist in salute, but today was not the day to deal with the rebels. Though he knew he would have to face that day soon.

Chapter 7

Shienden

Adem sat in his newly appointed bedchamber, as the other was still being cleaned of vampire blood and bone-ash. He decided he would never return to that room even if it was sufficiently cleansed. The fire was roaring, yet the air was still cold in these winter months. He was seated in a large blue cushioned armchair with Shienden sitting at his feet.

He hoped Jean would visit him, though he doubted she would. It had been a week since they swept the Borderlands clean, and she had not visited him at all on any of those nights. Isabelle always arrived after he returned to his room after supper. They talked, and she made attempts to lure him to the bed, but he refused every time. He just couldn't betray Jean again. He felt sure he never would. Isabelle was not taking that well. She seemed aware of his newfound devotion to Jean, and she would do her best to win him over.

Tonight, he sat speaking with minds to Shienden. The little dragon was a wealth of knowledge about the ancient days, about the crafting of the world and the demon wars before the Age of the First Immortals. Dragons were linked with the Battle Angels in those ancient times, fuelling the Angels with the Magic of Dragonfire, something Adem was still trying to understand fully. Now they were on the subject of the Hex-Warlords and their Dark Generals, who called themselves the Hex-Keepers.

What drives them? Adem asked.

I do not know the ways of men. I am a dragon! Shienden made little snorting sounds of pride at his own statement. I was made to command Dragonfire. I am the greatest of my kind!

That is comforting to know. Adem replied. But how do I defeat them?

Use the dragon code. Hunt them, lure them, stalk them, and then attack!

The dragon's words struck a chord in Adem's mind, an idea was forming. You know Shienden, that's a very clever idea!

He stood and walked to fetch his sword, then stood by his bow, and the silver horn, that housed the spirits of Llew Llaw Gyffes and Balor. With a summons, the two Battle Angels appeared in a flare of colour and light, and then on his command, both entered his blade, to join with Arawn as their Resting Point. He needed to disguise himself, and if he was seen with the horn and a blue Lukrorian Bow, anyone would know he was Adem Highlander. Lukrorian Bows were outlawed; only four men still carried them, himself, Arig, Carl and Wil. He called his Aldebrands at the door to enter and had one of them fetch him a plain brown leather scabbard that would fit his blade. The ebony scabbard with the dragon symbol would also make him stick out like a fox in the hen house.

While he waited for the scabbard, he changed into a dark green coat with gold buttons, a nicely cut wool but not something a lord would wear. He changed his trousers to brown leather and put on a dark brown pair of leather boots. He wrapped a black sword belt around the long, high collared coat, with a golden oval buckle embossed with a charging ram. He checked himself in the mirror, and with the door locked, he used a series of Angel-Spells to change his features slightly, from blue eyes to dark brown, and brown hair to black. He also added a slight tan to his skin, so that he would appear Torvellen as he also added points to his ears like an immortal. He added the youthfulness to his complexion that was also typical of reasonably young elves.

When his Aldebrands knocked at the door, he removed the spell and unlocked the door to accept the scabbard. It was plain brown leather wrapped as he had instructed, and the blade fit as if it were made for it. The steel casing of the scabbard would wear over time. His enchanted blade could cut down a tree ten paces wide and never lose its sharp edges.

'Not in your Alit'aren uniform this evening, Lord Adem?' The green-eyed Dremelden asked. He had sandy spiked hair and pale skin, standing a head taller than Adem in his emerald breastplate with two golden sword hilts rising above each shoulder.

'I don't want to be disturbed for the rest of the evening, Beylen,' Adem said. 'I am weary and need a good sleep before we plan to meet the rebels. Inform the White Snow Fox that this is our first priority.'

Beylen looked puzzled, but pressed fist to heart and Adem closed the door in his face. He then packed a travel bag that he slung over his shoulder, with some bread and cheese, from the large polished wood dinner table, packed in with two apples and a pear. He had to travel light, and he would not risk Tarkson where he was going, so times when he was unable to use Portal-Spells, he would have to walk. He also attached a coin purse—filled with gold coins with Prince Lune's mark on the face—to his other waist belt and then put on the shadow cloak most commonly worn by Aldebrands.

He harnessed teron, and waves of Angel-Magic and the filth of Jinn-Magic filled his every fibre, his senses elated and repulsed at the same time. A warp of Air-Magic appeared before him, wide enough for him to step through. The little dragon leapt through first, before Adem could try to tell him to stay behind. He'd decided this was something he would need to do alone. But Shienden was good company. So, as the disguise returned to his form, he stepped through the Portal with a grin on his face.

***

Jean knew the moment Adem left. She'd been on her way to see him to pay him another rehabilitative visit, when she felt him travel a great distance, in the space of a moment. She immediately consulted her Battle Angels about it, but neither Tanriel nor Anwen could tell her anything, both of them replying that Adem's Battle Angels would not say where he went, or what he was up to. Only that he was not in any immediate danger.

She sat in her bedchamber now, with Terese at the door, and Isabelle seated on a couch, next to Jean's red cushioned armchair. Jean still wore the pale white gown, embroidered with white foxes, she'd intended to seduce Adem with. She sensed Isabelle's frustration and jealousy over their reunited affairs. Well, she perceived those emotions in Isabelle's speech and expressions towards her.

Carl stood with arms clasped behind his back, wearing his Alit'aren uniform with the Red Lion Rohjor sigil on his high collar. He also wore his Aldebrand shadow cloak, as the air had a biting chill, despite Jean's attempts to warm the room with a blazing fire. She could use Angel-Magic to increase the temperature to something more tolerable, but since the vampire curse had infected terael, she was reluctant to wield unless it was vital to her survival. She'd started to get headaches these past few days, and she wondered if it was a sign of mental illness setting in. When those headaches began, she became restless, agitated and her mood was overall not the calm focused measure of dignity she usually commanded.

'I have no idea where he's going,' Carl said with a raised brow after Jean had basically snapped at him, demanding answers. She'd summoned him to her chambers to try to work out what Adem had planned.

'He's abandoned me!' Isabelle wailed, sniffing as if at the beginning of tears. 'He's abandoned our child!'

'It's not safe for him to travel alone,' Jean said to Carl, ignoring Isabelle's tantrum. 'We must search for him.'

'He must think whatever he's doing is right,' Carl replied, 'right for him, or for us, or for the people.'

'We need him!' Jean shouted. 'Without him our hopes of confronting Jinn-Fendinn are futile.'

'I know that better than you do,' Carl replied, his mouth a flat line as he spoke, something the Sons of Odin had always been able to do, speak without moving their lips. Adem said his lips only moved a little when he was thinking about the ability. When she first met Adem and saw him speak she knew there was something special about him. Adem claimed it had something to with what they learnt in their experience that night at Bright. It was curious.

'What do you mean?'

'Apparently, Adem is the only one who can harm Fendinn,' Carl replied, 'him and his pet dragon, if Shienden ever grows large enough.'

'Why wasn't I informed?' Jean spoke with rage building in her tone.

'I am telling you now.' Again, his lips barely parted as his voice emanated from his chest and throat. He wore an odd expression, his focus distant. She wondered if Carl had used too much Angel-Magic in that last battle? Her concern regarding mental health was always focused on Adem. What if the other two began to grow ill to a similar extent? As she pondered on this, she saw his focus return to her, and she immediately guessed Tanriel or Anwen had informed his Battle Angels of her concern.

'I feel fine,' Carl said. 'But very well, I will search for him. However first I will join your escort to Orodhel. You must begin negotiations with the rebels. We need their might to contest the Shadow, even if we only allow them to create Shield-Spells to defend our battle ranks. You are in charge of those negotiations, Jean. I expect results.'

'I will not bargain with that rabid wolf Tarz!' Jean snapped in outrage.

'You will find a way to end this division and make peace with him.' Carl said in a commanding tone. 'I would be there if I could, but you're right about Adem. We can't afford to let him go for days without Healing-Magic. His illness could spread to irreparable proportions.'

'What of Serock?' Jean asked.

'He still hasn't returned,' Carl said with a face like stone. 'That is a concern, but we can do nothing but wait to see if he is truly trustworthy.'

'It's been seven days since he left,' Jean said. 'I think if he was going to return, he would've done so by now.'

'We shall see.' Then he gave a tilt of his head in place of a bow, turned on his heel and made his way for the door. As Terese was opening the door for him to leave Jean called to him, 'If you can't bring Adem back we're all doomed you know. I expect results!'

***

Adem trudged through the thick snow, his feet were freezing in his boots, and the snowfall was a thick fog before him, with Shienden's emerald tail and pale blue batwings flicking in the air as the little creature scampered along in front of him like a hound sniffing out a trail. He heard Shienden's gleeful snorting when the dark silhouette of a two storey manor began to appear though the gloom and falling snow, a cold wind also started up that made him wrap his Aldebrand cloak more tightly around his form.

It was early evening, and amber lights were glowing in some of the manor windows, a sign of human occupation. He would've preferred to find an abandoned home to rest for a while, as he did not feel in the mood for more company than the little dragon that spoke to his mind. Even a matter of hours after he should've received his evening Healing-Magic and he was already becoming unsociable and paranoid. He wondered if this was a good idea after all.

He still wore his disguise of course, and with a word from his mind to Shienden's, the little dragon rushed off out of sight of the old man whose form became more solid as Adem slowly approached the front porch. The man sat on a wooden chair smoking a pipe with a thick red-and-blue blanket wrapped around his gaunt frame. The man did not shiver, though his hands trembled when they lifted the pipe to his lips and lit the tobacco from a small stick dipped in a bowl of hot coals. The man's eyes were deep, and dark, set into a weathered brown face with many wrinkles across the forehead and around the eyes. The mortal lord smiled, and the wrinkles increased in many folds of skin, showing a few teeth missing from the brown stained rows that remained.

'It's freezing out there!' the old man bellowed at Adem. 'Better bring your pet in with you. At his size, even a dragon could freeze to death in this weather.' Adem cursed under his breath. The man had seen Shienden! The little dragon was adept at stealth, suggesting this old fellow had hawk eyes. 'There hasn't been a dragon in this part of the world for a long time,' the man continued. 'I should know too, been around a long time myself.' The old man brushed the hair above his right ear, and to Adem's shock, he saw that this man was of the immortal blood! Perhaps he was half human, which would explain how his face could age so much despite his pointed ears. What really concerned him was that it wouldn't take long for this old lord to figure out Adem's identity, so he said, 'We're just passing through, old man.' Then he turned and began to make his way back into the fog and snowfall.

'Suit yourselves,' the old man hollered. 'I'm the only one here, there's food prepared and a warm fire. That little dragon needs to get out of this cold!'

Adem halted, feeling the ice seep through the leather of his boots, he wore thick socks and undergarments, but this was close to the middle of winter, and he was not used to such conditions. He knew the old man was telling the truth, as Adem's Battle Angels had confirmed the house was empty.

'You look like you could use someone to talk to too, friend!'

Adem sighed and turned back to face the old lord. To the old man's eyes, Adem would appear to be a rather short Torvellen with dark hair and eyes, pointed ears and tan skin. He saw no use for this man in his plans, but he welcomed the opportunity to warm his bones in front of a fire, so he bowed, and whistled, and moments later Shienden came scurrying across the snow with his tail lashing in the air. He only made the noise to demonstrate to the man the obedience he could command over the little creature. Shienden raced up the steps of the porch and leapt on to the lap of the man. 'What's your name then, little one?'

'He's called Shienden'kroxus,' Adem said. At this the old man looked up at Adem with a shocked expression as he breathed the name, 'Dragon-Sword? Well then, what be your name stranger?'

'Show us this fire and the food you promised, old man,' Adem replied. 'Then we will talk.'

***

Serock's focus returned, the dark chamber—where he lay sprawled, like a broken toy doll, with arms wide and mouth hanging open, with drool falling from his lips—was filled with an amber glow, that came from the walls, like gold embedded in the rock, that reflected the light of the torches that burned on the walls, again a part of his old power, that allowed the wood to release fire for years, without damaging the enchanted torch. Vampires were also more accustomed to the light of these torches, than regular flames. There were nine of the devices, spaced around the cave-like walls of the chamber, with a dark floor of polished stone, and high vaulted ceilings, like a cathedral, where large bats clung upside down, wrapped in their black wings.

His eyes fell upon Koncha, seated behind a long stone desk in a chair like a throne; the new leader wore a plain brown coat under a cloak of emerald-green velvet. He wore no crown, though his eyes sparkled with the look of one mad with power. Beside him stood one of his three brides, the other two were spread over each of Serock's open arms, licking at bite marks they'd made in either side of his neck over a week before. The three vampire women had been feeding on him since then, taking turns at draining him close to death, then forcing him to eat and drink to replenish his blood for the next feasting. Serock was immune to the vampire curse, a part of his old power preserved since his reincarnation. For this reason, they might continue to drink his blood for as long as they wished to keep him alive, rather than the usual three days before he would become one of them, at which point a newly turned victim's blood became harmful to other vampires. The women also seemed to delight in the taste of his blood, as if it were a fine vintage put away for special occasions.

Koncha held the reason for Serock's capture in the palm of his right hand, a red stone that glowed with a wicked crimson light, only faintly, though whenever Serock looked upon the stone he saw the Fires of Hell reflected there. Serock was still unsure what the device was—despite his vast knowledge of ancient artefacts of great power used during the Wars of the Old Ways—or how Koncha had uncovered a device of such capacity, yet when Koncha held the stone aloft and used its power through his vampire abilities, Serock had become very weak, so much so that he was overpowered by the three brides, and they had fed on him ever since that day, here in this dank prison, while Koncha drilled him for information as Serock drifted in and out of consciousness.

The stone had reduced Serock's ability to wield so fast and so completely, he was helpless to even create a Portal-Spell to try to flee before he was captured. They had not left him alone long enough to make such an attempt since then, and they held him with a Shield-Trap, preventing him from reaching for teron via the mysterious stone, that gifted Koncha similar strength and abilities of a very strong, and talented Alit'aren.

Serock's biggest concern was for Hayley. He had been sincere in his oath to protect the wife of Wil Martyr. She reminded Serock of one of his three daughters, born over six thousand years ago, when Serock was a young hero, and immortal lord, of a small province and Keep, known as Stonerune. Kysari was her name, with the same large dark eyes and long silken hair like a raven's feathers. In truth she was his favourite daughter, adventurous and brave, a great archer and hunter. She loved to ride in the fields and forests, under the light of the sun or moon. One day, Kysari did not return from the hunt, and they sent a search party. The search lasted days, and Serock would not give up the search until they finally found her body face down in the river, with Rahkwel arrow shafts protruding from her back. They'd spotted her in the woods and shot her down as she rode by, shot her in the back! It was the heartbreaking loss of Kysari that had started the darkening of Serock's heart in those early days. He couldn't deal with loss and heartache without descending deeper into the dark void of despair that was the lure of the High-Jinn.

His head fell forwards in pain and anguish at the memory of the loss, his darling daughter's eyes staring frozen into the forest canopies as he lifted and turned her soaked body. The forest had heard his screams of outrage that morning by the river, and the Rahkwel had been hunted down and tortured greatly before their deaths. In that dark fit of despair, Serock had begun to enjoy causing pain to these creatures, he began to crave their bloodcurdling screams as their hearts were cut out of their chests, or their entrails were spilled onto the floor after he gutted them like animals. It was the beginning of his descent into evil.

He returned his focus to Koncha and the red stone, its light making Serock's vision watery and his eyes stung every time he looked into those endless fires. He tried to speak, to beg for mercy, but his lips were so dry, his mouth so parched, he could only release a faint whimper that expressed his pain at present, and in the past. The bride on his right side moved her lips towards his skin, biting down hard as she began to suck more blood from his veins.

Chapter 8

Dragon Sword

Adem sat with his back to the fireplace, where the large cauldron of stew bubbled, and gave off an aroma that made his mouth water. There was freshly baked bread on the table, and half a wheel of soft cheese, but he was waiting for the stew to be served. At present the warmth of the fire on his snow drenched flesh, and shivering bones, was enough to forget the hunger that raged in his core. Shienden sat at his feet, making soft vibrating sounds, similar to a purring feline. He was also happy to get out of the cold, and warm himself in front of open flames.

Adem still wore the disguise, he was certain the old half-blood sitting across from him could either sense Adem's use of Angel-Magic to create the illusion—despite Adem recently being taught by Serock to conceal his wielding from others—or he could possibly just see right through it. The way he sat there, with his wrinkled face, and head cocked to one side, with one eye glaring wide, and the other half lidded, Adem thought it was more likely the latter, although he would not be surprised if this old man was also a trained wielder.

'You must be starving!' The old man cried, for the third time since Adem had sat down and taken off his gloves to place them on the table beside him.

'Is there a point to you saying that?' Adem asked. 'I've already told you twice that I am famished, yet still you haven't had the courtesy to serve up any of that lovely stew.' The old man began to cackle at that, not an evil laugh, just the sound of a man as old as the Great Trees, or even older. Then he said with a grin, 'You'll get to eat when I get to see your face! I don't mind bringing strangers in the house, I just don't like them hiding behind layers of Illusion-Magic.'

Adem sighed and then allowed his hold on teron to vanish and knew that his disguise did also at that same moment. He regretted letting go of the fierce glow of Angel-Magic, but he could not maintain that disguise all the time, as Jinn-Magic was just too powerful every moment that he held even the small amount needed to create the spells. Even a day without his Healing-Magic and wielding that small amount of teron was having a terrible effect on his mind.

The old man cackled with delight; then he said, 'That's the face I expected to see! Who else would command the only dragon left alive in this day and age? Who else could reincarnate the spirit of Dragon Sword?'

'You apparently know my name and story,' Adem replied. 'Will you tell me yours?'

'Yes, yes, all in good time,' the man answered. 'But my name, ah, that is an old one, when I was a youth, I was called Tollaven, but you may call me Toll. First, we must discuss your little companion. Tell me, does he speak to you?' Shienden raised his snout and made a number of snorting noises, it seemed the question had upset him.

'What if he does?'

'Aha! Then you must be him! The one they call Blue Water Dragon!'

'I am he. What does that have to do with Shienden being able to communicate with me?'

'It is a part of ancient Prophecies!' Toll shouted with glee. 'The Blue Water Dragon, the saviour of Kismeria will bring back the greatest of all dragons, the one known as Dragon-Sword in ancient times. The prophecies say their bond shall include speech between minds, similar to the kigare. Only the blood of the Blue Water Dragon will be able to speak with Shienden'kroxus, according to the ancient texts.'

'I know quite a lot about the Ragnarök Cycle,' Adem said, 'but I have never heard of this, nor has anyone I know.'

'Oh, but I am old!' Toll said as he slapped his thigh. 'I was born before the High-Servants came into being, before vampires roamed, long before!' Toll's tale intrigued Adem to a great extent, however his stomach began to groan, and a great fire burned within, so he gestured to the loaf of bread and asked, 'May I have a few bites?'

Toll slapped the side of his head and said, 'Of course, please, take all you can eat. I will get you some stew. Forgive my forgetfulness. You are surely very hungry.' Despite the truth of those words, Adem still waited until the hot steaming stew sat in a bowl in front of him before he reached for the bread to dip in the rich gravy. It was rabbit stew, with carrots, onions and peas, a hearty winter meal that sent warmth through his being and slowly sated his hunger as he gulped down mouthfuls with a silver spoon. Shienden began to whine with his tail lashing the air until Toll placed a bowl of the stew in front of him. To Adem's surprise, the vegetables did not stop the little dragon from eating, and he wasted nothing, licking the bowl dry when he finished the first serving.

'I think he likes it!' Toll said. 'Little fellow never took a breath between gulps.' Adem took a moment to swallow the chunk of cheese he'd been chewing before he replied, 'He has quite an appetite for one so small.'

'Yes, and he'll grow big and strong, like a mountain.' Shienden made more gleeful snorting noises as Toll refilled his bowl and placed it before him. Adem took a moment for his stomach to settle while he said to Toll, 'So, why don't you tell me what else you know about Shienden?' Toll moved back to take a seat opposite Adem, setting a bowl of the hot stew in front of himself and lifting a wooden spoon to start prodding at the meat and vegetables. 'There is much to tell, though little is known. I recall hearing as a youth that Shienden would return about a thousand years before the Ragnarök Battle. It was said that the dragon would return to his full size, to combat Jinn-Fendinn and His Shadowspawn. Dragonfire! That's it! Dragon-Sword would wield Dragonfire to defeat the enemies of Odin!'

'That all sounds rather predictable,' Adem mused. 'Tell me something I can put a little faith in.' Toll sat back in his chair, rubbing his chin as his larger eye rolled around in his head like a marble, he appeared to be in deep thought. Finally, he threw his hands up in the air and said, 'My memory, it has withered with age, much like my old bones. You must visit me again sometime. I will remember. I'm sure of it!'

'Were you going to tell me that Shienden's fire is the only thing that can harm Fendinn?'

'Other than the Magic of the All-Father and the Blue Water Dragon,' Toll agreed. Then he said, 'No, that was relevant but not the words on the tip of my tongue. It is gone for now. But it shall return, and so you must also!'

'That could put you in great danger,' Adem warned. 'Even being here now, there are some who would question you, torture you, and very likely murder you if they thought you had information of value to me.' Toll barked a laugh and waved the comment aside as he said, 'I am very old, Adem Highlander. Time will take me soon enough. If I can be of service to you, it would be the least I can do.'

'Tell me more about your lineage. I'm puzzled by your history. Was your father an immortal and your mother a mortal?'

'How else would I look the way that I do?' Toll replied. 'Yes, in those days it was not frowned upon, mixing the bloodlines. There were many more like me in my youth, though they are all long gone. I'm the only one left, for some reason life has clung to me like viscous tar, though my body becomes weak and my mind begins to fail me.' Both his eyes were narrow now, he looked focused, his gaze distant, perhaps from looking so far into the past.

Adem sat and waited for him to continue. 'My father was a Torvellen Archer when I was born, long ago, Ages ago. He met my mother and fell in love with her eyes and her smile, or so he told me. My mother died giving birth to me, although that is uncommon, even for mixed blood births. So, my father was left to raise a half blood; that was not a shameful thing in those days, though it was a burden for him to think that he would likely outlive his offspring.' The first time Adem had seen Toll's immortal ears, and his weathered face and gaunt frame, it had made him think of his own son, and what the years would do to him if he lived anywhere near as long as this man.

It was not the finely matured look of an ancient immortal, more the look of an unrelentingly strong spirit wrapped in a shell that had slowly decayed as it was ravaged by time. It was pitiful in a way, compared with the youthfulness of immortals, and it explained to Adem why this practice of mixing bloodlines was eventually declared inappropriate. Yet he also saw a man with a great gift in his veins, a mortal's flesh housing the ghost of immortality, or something like it. As he sat in the silence of Toll's thoughts, he asked, 'Were you ever an Alit'aren?'

'Oh, I trained with them, yes,' Toll said, his gaze returning to the present to lock Adem with a hard stare. 'But I was cast out! They said there was conflict in my capacity to wield, to focus, a complication of my mixed heritage. I was never allowed to progress past the level of Seidr'tera, and I was older than any of the others by that time. So, I never passed through the final test to be raised Alit'aren, though I have heard whispers about that experience. They say that you're never quite the same once you've seen your own life a thousand times over.'

'It is forbidden to discuss any experiences within the Chameleon Arch,' Adem said with a warning tone. Toll rolled his eyes again, then replied, 'Yes, but I've heard whispers all the same. I'm sure it changed you, and your friends, did it not?'

'It isn't something I'm willing to discuss,' Adem said. Then after a pause he added, 'I'm sorry about your mother; it must have been difficult being raised without her.'

'I have nothing to compare it to,' Toll said with a deep sigh. 'My father never loved another woman after her, as if he thought she was his one true life partner. Are you aware that immortal men only ever love one woman in their lifetime?'

'So how many women did you fall for, when you were young?' At that Toll slapped his thigh again and gave a shrill chuckle before he admitted, 'Oh, it is different for half-bloods, we have the spirits of fire and the hearts of desire, craving as much love as we can fit into our days.'

'Surely not,' Adem said in disbelief.

'Ah, I do not jest, in truth there are so many women's names on that list I can only remember their faces, or their favourite coloured dresses, the scent of her perfume, or her eyes and her smile. Sometimes even those details become difficult to recollect.'

'Were they all mortal women?' Adem asked because he knew the sad truth of this tale was that Toll would have outlived all of them. The old man nodded with a regretful grimace, before he said, 'No immortal maiden would ever lay a hand on a half blood. Just look at me. If the Torvellen girls I'd grown up with were still alive today, they'd appear young and beautiful, a wellspring of vibrancy and health. Though they held hands with me and sometimes kissed me behind the trees in my youth, once my bloodlines became apparent, I was an outcast amongst them, and mostly the mortals treated me with jealousy and disdain.'

'It must have been very difficult for you,' Adem said. He felt empathy for the man also, his story left a burning hole in Adem's chest, as he considered further the fate of his own child that would soon be born as a half blood. After the meal Adem sat on the front porch with Toll as he smoked his pipe and both sipped at large mugs of warm apple cider. It was the strong alcoholic kind, but Adem perceived no danger at present, nor did his Battle Angels, so he indulged himself, and even borrowed one of Toll's spare pipes to have a few relaxing puffs. They watched the snow falling with a peaceful silence between them, unless Toll would grin and bark a laugh as he pointed at Shienden chasing rabbits across the snow-covered fields surrounding the house.

'I think he's still hungry!' Toll would remark, and Adem would chuckle silently, sometimes coughing as he was not used to a pipe. Later, as evening set in, Adem felt his illness progressing, and this was noticed by Toll, who offered to provide Healing-Magic. This was a risk, as there was the chance that the old man was in fact a Shadowsouled, and giving him the ability to wield through him, put Adem in a vulnerable position, perhaps even risking a swift death. Though, he put his trust in Toll, and agreed, and the old man proved to be even more skilled at Healing-Magic than any Ael Tarael Adem had met so far. Adem felt almost as sane as he did when medicated. There was no hint of a headache or a temperature. His thoughts were clear. He thanked Toll and agreed that he would return when necessary for further treatment.

'There'll always be food waiting for you, and Shienden too!' The old man shouted joyfully as he waved farewell to Adem and his little dragon. Adem decided he should move on if his plan was to take effect. As he trudged through the thick snow in the fading light, he formed another Portal-Spell, and returned the disguise to his face, stepping through after Shienden raced in ahead of him like a faithful guard dog. He had no particular destination in mind so far, so he wandered the land, hunting for spies, aiming to be noticed by them.

The next day he allowed Arawn to send one message to Carl's and Wil's Battle Angels.

You must watch over Jean and Isabelle!

***

Carl was making his way to the Royal Stables with Elarja and Arig, when the message flashed through his mind, sent from Adem's Battle Angel, Arawn, and relayed by one of Carl's, Math Mathonwy. It was the first communication he'd received from Adem since his departure. Adem's Battle Angels were blocking, so that no one else could discern where they were or what they were planning. The fact that Arawn, Balor and Llew were going along with whatever Adem had planned, suggested the three Battle Angels had some belief that he could achieve those aims.

Of course, Adem would be concerned for the two women he loved, but why he had abandoned them at this time was a mystery to Carl. He urged Math and Angus to question Adem's Battle Angels on the subject, in the hope that they would reveal some information. Carl wore Alit'aren coat and trousers, with knee high brown leather boots and crimson armour with a golden lion emblazoned across the chest. He paced the hallways while using his crimson spear like a walking staff, moving with haste to avoid delaying the next stage of their mission.

His chestnut brown altherin was saddled when he reached the stables, and he put his foot in the right stirrup and was handed the reins by a Korhadian stable boy, a blonde-haired youth with large pale eyes and an angular jaw like chiselled stone. The boy saluted Carl when he was in the saddle, and Carl gave a nod of recognition; then reached into his belt pouch to flick a coin at the young man. The boy's reflexes were swift enough to catch the coin, and his immortal eyes would never have missed the way that gold reflected the morning light. He gave a deep bow and hurried off to further duties.

Carl waited as Arig and Elarja were mounted on dark altherin stallions, and soon after he was surrounded by those two as well as the former rulers of Nordhel and Tarvel. Orion wore a blue mask that covered his face below his eye line, and gauntlets of lacquered steel, with the tightly wrapped black cloth across his form known as the ghoda'sidhe. Tobin wore the torin'sidhe, camouflage coat and trousers with pale grey lace up boots. Lydia and Elmira wore their usual blue silk gowns with white woollen cloaks to fight the winter cold, though all four of them were adept at ignoring the temperature of the elements at any time. Carl was not so skilled, and the winds were biting cold like ice in his flesh, he wrapped his Aldebrand cloak tightly around his form as they prepared to ride out.

Hayley, Isabelle, Jean and Terese were further ahead, after being escorted to the Stables by a sizeable guard of Ael Tarael. The female wielders formed a circle around the four women, with Aldebrands and Alit'aren forming larger rings around the Ael Tarael. Twenty-five thousand riders in total spread out onto the fields surrounding Korhad two hours later, after slow moving through the city streets with immortal men and women cheering and waving their farewells to the Sons and the Daughter, and the woman who was to give birth to the heir of Adem Highlander. These people put so much hope and faith in Carl and his friends; he did not want to let them down.

By the tenth hour of the morning, the riders began a march northward, moving to a suitable position to create a Portal-Spell large enough to travel through. Carl had to link in a chain of seven male wielders and two Ael Tarael to accomplish the feat of a doorway through space that was high enough for immortals to ride through, and nearly forty feet wide, large enough to move through at a pace that allowed a formidable defence to go ahead first and scout for danger. There were still demon hordes moving about the Green Border, and if they were ambushed moving through the Portal-Magic it might be a massacre for those that went first.

Riders fanned out on a hillside a thousand abreast, with more ranks pouring from the doorway to move into position. When Carl made it to the other side of the doorway, he saw high obsidian walls of the city of Orodhel, in the heart of Odhelor, the northern kingdom of the Borderlands, and home to Tobin's first-born son, Prince Turin. It was also where the rebels were hiding out, hoping to influence the warrior prince if he became King of the Nordics.

Even for altherin horses in an army of this scale, it would have taken months to travel the distance from Korhad to Orodhel in snow this thick. They had just made the journey in six hours, the time needed to move the riders through the Portal-Spell and assemble on the hill looking over the city. This new ability had great potential, though Carl felt tension take over his countenance before he released Angel-Magic—the joy of a thousand blessings by heavenly angels coursing through his veins, suddenly vanishing to be replaced by a deep loss and sorrow, the withdrawals of sheer ecstasy—and felt the rancid shadows of Jinn-Magic slip away from his soul.

This new gift came at a high price it seemed. Chains large enough to open Portal-Spells that size were going to cost him peace of mind in the future; and perhaps his sanity also. Yet he considered the responsibility should be his before Adem's, as his old friend was already too far gone. Wil also needed to avoid wielding teron as much as possible, as Carl had noticed a change in him since the link at Hordrin's Corridor. He seemed to always wear a darker mood these days, his expressions also revealing troubled thoughts. Again, they were being crushed between time and necessity. They needed Angel-Magic, but over time it was chipping away at their every fibre, mind, flesh and spirit.

Chapter 9

Negotiating with Tarz

The winter months seemed to pass rapidly for Jean, as she spent most of her time in discussions with Rodriel Tarz, and the rebel leaders at Orodhel, in the Chamber of Order. The room was plain black stone, with a marble floor of blue and red squares, and shimmering ebony marble columns, supporting a vaulted ceiling, worked with sculptures of demons lurking in the shadows. This was a Borderland Kingdom, and though it had more finery than Prince Lune's castle at Korhad, it was mostly plain dark stone fit for defending the people against a demon invasion. Armour and weaponry lined the walls of the Chamber, so much so Jean thought it should be named the Chamber of Weapons. A large polished oak table sat in the centre of the room, with Prince Turin at the head of the table, with a window of coloured glass behind him, that caught the afternoon light, depicting an ancient King being crowned—which Jean suspected was the reason this chamber was always chosen for these meetings.

Tarz sat to the right of Turin, also at the long head of the table, with Jean and Terese seated at the opposite end of the table, that sat over twenty down each side, of the heavily carved oak. Jean found her fingers tracing the fox head, that was carved below her seated position, each day that she tackled Tarz, and the other rebel leaders in what was called negotiations. But she preferred to describe it as bashing her skull against a stone wall.

Hayley gave birth to a beautiful baby daughter during those winter months, a dark eyed child without the insignia fang shaped canines typical of all other vampires. The child drank her mother's milk and did not seem to be lacking proper nutrients, besides the fact that they had not allowed the child to taste blood yet. The evidence suggested that the child—Enserah they named her—would have all the powers of a vampire, without the thirst, and would also be able to survive in sunlight like her mother. Jean's concern was the child's vulnerability, and the fact that Enserah would be a target for Koncha and his minions in their desires to learn the secret of vampires walking in sunlight.

Wil was overwhelmed to be a father and spent all his spare time watching over her in her crib of white painted wood, with cartoony Elves with large goblin-type faces, painted on the board above her pillow. Hayley also became more withdrawn as the days progressed since Enserah's birth, showing less dedication to her training to become Ael Tarael, and seeming partly obsessed with protecting her baby. Jean did not blame her.

There was never a single word from Adem, not even from his Battle Angels to hers, so she could at least know he was alright. She told herself not to worry over him, that whatever he had planned was more important than negotiations with Tarz. Still, she missed his gentle touch during those cold winter months, when the biting chills even made it past her Ael Tarael armour of ignoring the elements via meditation and mind control. Perhaps it was her emotional state that allowed a slip in her focus to result in feeling the cold. She was becoming more agitated as the days passed by. At first, she guessed it was related to her frustration over those meetings where she battled for supremacy, though her monitoring of the Ael Tarael moods and behaviours showed similar symptoms developing in almost every one of them. It was the curse upon terael that was at fault she later realised, which suggested a very grim outlook for the future.

At first, she had hoped it was only affecting those women who were secretly practicing the newly discovered Jinn Arts behind her back. She soon found out about the secret meetings but decided to feign no knowledge of the practice, so she could keep an eye on those who practiced and monitor the changes in their states of mind. Those women were certainly showing susceptibility to the curse, however as more and more women began to show symptoms, she surmised that either all Ael Tarael were secretly practicing the Jinn Arts, or that the curse itself would infect their minds, bodies and souls regardless of whether or not they indulged in that tainted power.

'I demand to know who was responsible for the murder of those Ael Tarael who tried to stop your men from leaving camp that night,' Jean said in a harsh tone. That had been a point of a stalemate in their negotiations since the beginning, and Tarz used every trick he knew to avoid submitting to her demands. 'I want their names and rank, in writing, and I want them brought before a trial to decide their fate.'

'That will take more time, Snow Fox,' Tarz replied with a serious frown, it seemed the more she pushed him on this issue, the more it sunk in that she would not be willing to relent on her goal to punish those responsible.

'I also want the names of those who gave the order to attack,' Jean said in a calm tone, though the way she stared at Tarz she thought her eyes might burn holes through his skull. Jean was almost certain Tarz had given those orders, which would mean the death sentence for him if she could prove it and enforce justice.

'I am as yet uncertain whether your requests can be adequately fulfilled,' Tarz said, using a tactic he'd tried dozens of times already. Jean was learning that part of these negotiations was to try to outsmart your opponent with clever words of formality, that could outlast the winter, the way things were going.

'I am certain,' Jean said, 'that those responsible will face the hangman's noose or the chopping block.' She did not need to shout those last words; the words themselves had enough effect on the faces of the dark coated men gathered around that table. Their eyebrows looked ready to hit the ceiling. Choosing to mention the exact form of punishment she had planned was a new tactic, one she decided—after saying it—was perhaps not necessary yet. Still, she knew it would have a lasting effect on these negotiations, the rebels now knew she would demand retribution for the murder of those women.

Carl raised a fist over his mouth and gave a fake cough, one of his tactics of subtle warnings for Jean that she was perhaps overstepping her position. She doubted that. After she'd renounced the thrones of two Immortal Kings and their Queens, her status was perhaps greater than the Blue Water Dragon. She had to show absolute dominance, or this pack of half rabid wolves would begin to bite when backed into a corner.

Carl had stayed by her side the entire winter, despite Jean's insistence that he be out searching for Adem. Carl always replied that Adem wanted him to look after her first and foremost. Whenever Jean asked Carl how he knew this, the man was terribly evasive, though Jean suspected there was still some messages transferred between their Battle Angels, and that Adem had instructed Carl to watch over her and Isabelle. That thought was somewhat reassuring, to know he had not abandoned his duty to her, or his devotion to see that she was always protected, however the fact that he was not around to commit to that role personally, always added to her sour moods.

Carl coughed again, and when she gazed at him, he gave her a nod which was his signal that he would temporarily take over the negotiations, a system they'd worked out weeks before this day. Wearing his high collared Alit'aren black coat of finely cut wool, under an Aldebrand cloak to hold off the chill of the room, Carl turned to face Tarz like a placid lion with a dangerous gleam to his eyes. 'General Tarz, as you know, I've been exploring the nature of the corruption on teron for some time, and it has come to my attention that these rumours of evil spirits possessing the minds and bodies of male wielders whose minds have begun to slip, is perhaps more substantiated than first presumed.'

Those words had an impact on the faces of many of the rebel Alit'aren in the room, including Tarz in particular, though Jean was certain they had tried to practice the deceptive calm visage expected of their kind. Tarz replied, 'Continue.'

'I would like to request the right to study some of your men,' Carl said with a sly grin, as he would know this was something Tarz could not refuse if he wished to continue the peace negotiations. 'Not all of them, of course, just enough to conduct a thorough study of the effects of Jinn-Magic, and to further investigate this theory of evil spirits possessing madmen. Will you accept?'

Tarz looked as if he'd been struck in the face by that question, and he faltered for a few moments as he looked to his fellow Alit'aren leaders in a sort of mind meld through eye contact and facial expressions to decide on how to respond. After a number of unreadable stares from grey haired mortal Alit'aren and a few wise eyed immortals, Tarz conceded to the request, and this brought a tremor of concerned whispers throughout the room from the rebel men. Jean wondered; could there be possessed men amongst the wielders in this very meeting? If there were spies for Fendinn watching their every move; that could result in disaster with each decision they announced.

During the winter there were also many reports reaching Jean's desk regarding male wielders turning mad from the corruption on teron. Few reports suggested the motivations of these men were evil, but the madness resulted in Alit'aren and their lower level students as well as Aldebrands attacking innocents with Angel-Magic. In one case over fifty villagers were almost burnt alive by one mortal Seidr'tera who unleashed an assault of flames upon a farmhouse where the people had gathered to try to flee the madman. Up until that time the Seidr'tera had been taking pleasure in making farm animals explode, reportedly because he believed them to be little Shadowspawn, pigs, sheep, goats and even chickens! Fortunately, eight of his Seidr companions caught up with him in time to shield him and put out the house fire before anyone passed out from smoke inhalation. That was perhaps the most disturbing report she'd received so far, but the pattern was forming to suggest that time was running out for her hopes of finding a potion to try to cure the effects of Jinn-Magic. It was also becoming evident that such a remedy would be vital to ensure there was a Kismeria to return to, over one thousand years from now. If these reports were a precursor to the Age of Chaos, she often trembled to consider the shocking events that may transpire during the years that she and the Sons of Odin were absent from this world.

She had set up finance for chemistry research into possible medicinal treatments for the effects of the corruption on teron, as well as studies into ways to reduce the effects of the female curse. There were various schools established with the greatest known chemists from across the lands, set up as High Druids within each school, that were known as the Chemist Guilds, of which there were eleven separate schools set up within major cities, including one in Orodhel and another in Korhad. She spent some of her spare time speaking with the High Druid of the Orodhel Guild, where she witnessed trials of the various potions being tested on volunteer wielders, who were showing varying degrees of effects from the curse and Jinn-Magic.

Jean sat in her bedchamber, in front of the roaring fire, later that day, following the meeting with the rebels. Isabelle sat on a red cushioned sofa, looking nearly ready to burst with her pregnancy. Terese watched the door, in a dark green coat, blue trousers, and lime green boots. Jean wore a dark blue woollen coat, that was thick for winter weather, with thick white woollen stockings, and navy-blue leather boots, turned down at the knee. Her sword rested on the blue cushioned couch, by her left leg, and her bow was propped against her right side, as she was always ready to summon her Battle Angels. She understood Terese's insistence for the importance of being prepared for any threats, and she was on her guard at all times.

Isabelle wore a petulant frown, dark hair in a thick braid, with a deep green silk gown, cut low at the breast, and worked with golden patterns across the waist and hem. The Ruhalden Princess still took up most of Jean's spare hours, as Jean was still her appointed babysitter. Today Isabelle was in a mood, because she could not see the arrival ceremony of the Lords and Ladies of surrounding nations, who had journeyed to Orodhel to join the meetings, to decide upon the crowning of the new King of the Nordics.

The woman was being so obnoxious Jean was forced to leave her alone with Terese and their Aldebrands at the door, so that Jean could stretch her legs, and also clear her head, while walking the halls. She took two of her Aldebrands with her, dark-eyed Kenen had been reappointed as Captain Commander of Jean's personal guard, after many months in contemplation of his error, at allowing Jean to slip off in the middle of the night, to meet in secret with Adem Highlander. That was Terese's inflicted punishment upon the tall immortal, and he had suffered in embarrassment during that time and offered his services to a lieutenant, after taking the oath of the immortals to carry out the duties of a servant to pay for their loss of honour. Today Kenen wore silvered armour over a grey coat, dark trousers and knee-high brown leather boots, with his long sword strapped to his waist. The other Aldebrand was another of the four men who had been cast down by Terese, for their lack of responsibility, that night, that Jean was busted for meeting with Adem. Zel, the blue-eyed Nordic, was shorter and slenderer than Kenen's tan skinned Torvellen frame, yet Zel still stood nearly a head height above Jean, in dark blue armour: two golden sword hilts rising above his shoulders.

The two men patrolled the halls like tall stalking cats, light on their feet with an agile grace in their movements. Kenen marched in front of Jean to her right, with Zel behind and to her left. Neither had their swords drawn, though they could unsheathe the blades in an instant at the first sign of any danger. Jean carried her emerald bow in the leather case over her shoulder—the Resting Point for Tanriel—and the blue blade that housed the spirit of Anwen in her emerald scabbard at her waist. Her Battle Angels were her real protection if her Aldebrands were easily outmatched, yet Jean still had a feeling of discomfort as she walked those halls. She could not shake the fear of the possibility that some of the Alit'aren and Seidr'tera were possessed by evil spirits. It gave her an unsettling shiver up her spine each time she crossed a hallway to face a dark coated male wielder, sometimes two or three of them together in whispered conversation.

They were not always the rebels that made her nervous, mostly these halls were patrolled by her own Alit'aren and Seidr'tera—which should reduce the possibility of any of them being susceptible to possession, as they were restricted in their wielding, and therefore less likely to become mad, or evil—but she sometimes saw more than just the commonly recognised dangerous glow behind the eyes of some of those men, both young and old. What she saw was a hint of malice, a spark of contempt, a flicker of ill will on their faces and burning in their eyes.

It was something she'd never noticed until today, after the possession theory was mentioned by Carl in the Chamber of Order. Now she thought she could perceive signs of both evil emotions and the possibility of an alien spirit inhabiting the minds of some of these men. They were trained to disguise such emotions behind a bland expression and would not let such feelings become amplified across their visage unless they were becoming unstable or worse.

Two young Seidr'tera who had never showed such signs were Ron and Del, both mortal boys, Del being the one who Jean was now certain had a serious crush on her. He and Ron would always seem to appear in the hallways while she was walking, whether they were on duty or not. Del's clear green eyes were always bursting with emotion, yet he kept his face carved from stone, emotionless, calm, attempting to hide the passion he felt for her. He was an innocent child, though not much younger than her, and he was handsome. She found herself blushing as the two young men came into view around a corner, both with surprised expressions flickering across their faces before the disguise of stone returned, a portion of their daily practice to become like their leaders.

'Lady Jean,' Del said with a deep bow, followed by Ron immediately after, as Del continued, asking, 'how are you feeling, my Lady?'

'My mood is just fine, Del,' Jean lied quickly. She could not allow rumours to begin that the Alit'aren were making her nervous. 'Thank you for asking. It seems that I see you two in these halls too often of late. I hope you are not shirking your training?' At that question, Del responded by raising his brows with wide eyes to reply, 'No, of course not, Lady Jean. Ron and I volunteered for hall duty today.' That brought a startled look from Ron that was quickly covered with a straight face, a sure sign to Jean that Del was lying, though she would not embarrass him further.

'I would've thought the two of you would rather watch today's ceremonies?' Jean said with a calm expression, though she still had the feeling of discomfort, as if danger lurked around the next corner. Then Del looked over his shoulder, as if he had sensed something, a male wielder harnessing Angel-Magic she guessed. Ron reacted a moment later, as Kenen stepped into Jean's path to meet a beam of green light that touched his silvered armour, and a moment later he turned to a complex pattern of glowing light, and then he vanished completely! It was a spell aimed at her of course, and she looked over the boys' shoulders to see the attacker, a rebel Alit'aren with dark eyes filled with hatred! The elderly male raised a fist—and Ron or Del must've created Shield-Spheres at the same moment—as yellow-orange flames burst from the walls and floor to encase them in heat and light that the Seidr'tera Shield-Spells could barely deflect. All of this happened in the moments that Jean witnessed the death of her Captain Commander, and the pain that struck her heart was fuelled with a rage for vengeance as she shouted, 'Tanriel!'

A stronger Shield-Sphere formed around them, created by her Battle Angel, at the same moment that Tanriel appeared behind the Alit'aren attacker, a spear of crimson fire punched through his back to burst out of his chest. A moment later fire scorched his flesh until a skeleton of red flames fell in a pile on the carpet. Jean realised she should've instructed Tanriel to try to capture the man for questioning. She already knew the man had been either mad or evil, but she wished to know whether he'd also been possessed. The look in those eyes suggested that theory was likely. Tanriel smothered the flames and they made a hasty return to Jean's quarters. Isabelle and Terese were unharmed, and Terese was furious when she heard about the death of Kenen. Jean guessed she would've felt real pain from Terese also if they'd been joined via the kigare, though all she saw on the woman's face was passionate outrage. 'At least he did his bloody job this time!' Terese said with cheeks burning bright red. There were no tears welling in her eyes, yet Jean believed they were held back by the fire of her dominating emotion. 'Is Carl on his way?'

'He is,' Jean replied. 'I told him to summon Tarz before he gets here.'

'Yes, that bastard has a lot of explaining to do! Consider the fact that this occurred only a few hours after you pushed him for the names of the murderers, and the one who gave the order to attack Ael Tarael. It reeks of conspiracy!'

Jean blinked at her own stupidity. She'd completely overlooked the theory that Tarz or another rebel leader had ordered her execution to stop her from getting to the bottom of those murders. If this theory was in fact the real reason, it would suggest Tarz was a Shadowsouled!

'We'll need to be very sure of ourselves before we go making such accusations,' Jean said. 'I thought I saw something in the attacker's eyes, it was something ... I can't describe it. He stared at me with more than hatred, more than the look of an evil man. I think he might have been possessed.' Terese seemed to lose some of her anger, and her cheeks faded to a lighter shade of pink, then she looked to Del and Ron and said, 'You two, get back to your duties! Not a word of this to anyone! Now go!'

'They saved my life, Terese,' Jean said defensively after the boys left the room, along with Zel who returned to guarding the door outside. That poor man was showing signs of obvious angst over the loss of his friend. Terese flared with anger again as she snapped, 'Just think of it, if these spirits are amongst us, they would try to overpower those you trust the most. Any male wielder you turn your back on could become a threat to your life!'

'What do you suggest we do then?'

'I might have to replace your guard with Ael Tarael only. Let me think on it. Even Carl and Wil could be at risk, perhaps even Adem if he is going without Healing-Magic all this time.'

'I know he's not that far gone yet,' Jean said with harshness to her tone. She still sensed Adem's emotions sometimes, despite the fact that he'd learned to block his emotions and approximate location from her. She knew someone was providing Healing-Magic for him, not every day, but enough to keep him from losing the plot completely. He was tense, anxious and alone, and right now she needed him more than ever. She sent him a message via Tanriel.

Come home please, Adem. We all need you. I need you!

Chapter 10

The Path Alone

Adem sat at a small table away from the fireplace of the common room, a long rectangular space with pale grey plastered walls over blue stone. The tables were dark-stained and polished to a high gleam, the candlelight of the room reflecting off the dark silky glow. The fireplace was surrounded by weary looking travellers, in plain dark green coats and brown trousers and boots, the women with them dressed in spun wool gowns or hooded robes, though they clung to the forms of the younger prettier ones, including a honey skinned Torvellen woman with fire in her dark eyes and a long black braid similar to Terese.

This was Torvellen country, well within the borders of Torvis, though more than two weeks hard riding from the capital, Tarvel. Adem had spent months roaming the lands seeking out hints of his quarry, listening to rumours on the winds. The talk of war in these lands was not rumour, of course. Lords and Ladies were gathering armies in the farmlands and estates of Torvis, preparing to march on the capital to lay siege to the city, in the hope of being crowned the next King or Queen of the Torvellen. When the battles might break out was still only speculative; though from what Adem knew so far, this battle for the Immortal Crowns could last decades or even centuries! He had heard of skirmishes between forces on a number of occasions, though they were reportedly only Archers and Dremelden Wood Kin causing mischief with their bows and their swift feet via their Wood Lore, phantom attacks during the night with soldiers being harried by rain of arrows, only to rush out into the night to face only shadows. Torvellen were almost equal in Wood Lore to the Dremelden, though with the Torvellen those skills were more often attributed to Aldebrands or Archers, rather than common soldiers serving in private armies. They were more often farmers with warfare in their blood and bones, skilled at hunting and weaponry, though not as attuned to the elements as their forest bred cousins.

The travellers would be fleeing the armies gathering in the farmlands, seeking refuge at Tarvel where they would likely wait out a siege until a new ruler was named. They all had a ragged look about them, as if they'd been pushed from the peace and comfort of their farmer or villager lifestyles, and Adem knew that some were also fleeing the mad Alit'aren that had begun to attack innocent people across the Free Lands. People always headed for the city when there was trouble in the surrounding lands, as if they believed that behind stone walls, they would be safe. Adem knew that wasn't true. If the mad Alit'aren began targeting cities to vent their paranoid violence, stone walls would not suffice.

Adem wore his disguise of course, appearing as the rather short Torvellen-blood immortal, of no particular class or rank, a wanderer, though perhaps an Archer, or Aldebrand gone rogue, or perhaps even a solitary Alit'aren. He'd heard all the theories whispered in the inns and taverns he'd passed through during these freezing winter months. Everyone wagered a guess on who he was and where he was going or what he was running from, it seemed his importance in this world could not be hidden from the fire that kindled in his own eyes. He wore a plain blue coat today, one he'd bought at a marketplace south of Torvis, in a small Torvellen village named Domrelle. He liked to change outfits every few weeks to avoid forming too strong a trail, so he'd traded the green coat and today he wore thick black leather trousers and knee-high blue leather boots. Often, he'd heard people whisper that he must be an Aldebrand of the Blue Dragon Rohjor, though no one would ever guess that he was in fact the Blue Water Dragon in disguise.

Still, word was spread from person to person, villager, farmer, merchant, soldier, lord or lady, people were always talking about him wherever he went. And a trail formed behind him with each passing day, a trail of breadcrumbs that he hoped would be followed by those he was in fact seeking. His thoughts were disrupted as the dark haired Torvellen woman began to look his way and smile. He told himself to ignore the gesture, yet he decided he should wink back to hold up the disguise. Any Torvellen-blood that showed no interest in such a pretty young woman would have to be already involved. He did not want that kind of information becoming part of the rumours that spread about his disguise. It could lead to the clever ones realising his true identity, and that could put him in serious danger. His enemies would be aware that he had abandoned his friends for many months now, though the chances of them knowing for certain that this Torvellen wanderer was actually Adem Highlander, were slim chances if any. Of course, he'd want them to figure it out eventually. That was all a part of his plans.

Another rumour whispered by men young and old, was that at least one of the lords and one of the ladies gathering armies to lay siege to Tarvel, were in fact the Hex-Keepers who served second in rank under the High-Servants. They even said that a High-Servant had taken up residence inside the Torvellen Palace. No one could say for certain who these evil puppet masters were when wearing their disguises, though he had heard a number of names as guesses. Lord Riolten, a dark-eyed Torvellen who had armies on the western borders of Tarvel, or Lady Terellis, a slender beauty who had ruled estates south of Torvis for seven mortal generations or more, or Lord Haimlad, an aged Torvellen with a hawk-like eyes and nose, with white at his temples like bristling feathers. Those were the three names Adem guessed most likely to be his enemies in disguise, Haimlad being the one throwing his weight around in the King's Palace, which would make him the one Adem wished to bait more than any other. Hex-Keepers would be a prized catch, but Adem was hoping to reel in one of the Big Fish!

A slender Torvellen bar maid brought him his evening meal two hours later. He'd sat there sipping his cider in a bronzed mug that entire time; and he found that he was famished when the steaming plate of roasted goat and potatoes, in a rich gravy sauce, was placed before him, with a side serving of fresh bread, and a quarter slice of blue cheese. His gold had stretched well these winter months, as he'd often returned to the aged half-blood Toll, to stock up on supplies and receive his ritual Healing-Magic. The old man kept him sane enough, but Adem had not visited the man for nearly a week now, as his trail was growing too strong, and he did not wish to endanger the kind old soul. Adem had also had to maintain his disguise for most of those six days, which added to his stress and anxiety, making it difficult to hide the tell-tale signs of being a male wielder in the Age of Chaos. The strain on his forehead eased while he ate his meal however, as he found it calming and soothing to fill his belly with hot food on a cold winter's day.

Then he heard heavy boots stomping on the polished floorboards in the front hall, then entering the common room as he lowered his spoon, feeling only half full and loath to waste such a fine meal, though he knew his trail had finally caught up with him, and he grinned to himself with lidded eyes as he watched seven dark coated men form a barrier in front of his table. Seven Alit'aren, he'd caught some decent sized fish today. The men stood with hands on their hips, as the weary travellers were ushered out of the room by the innkeeper, who was a round-bellied mortal, with a clean white apron, and deep-set dark-eyes: frizzled grey hair around his ears. It was not unusual for mortal men and women to own inns in immortal territories, but it was not exactly common either. Immortals that opened inns and taverns usually kept their businesses for hundreds of years. They escaped through a back room, that must've had an exit door, as he noticed them running through the thick snow, moments after.

Adem lifted his gaze to regard the dark auras around three of the seven men who stood facing him. The thick muscled mortal who stood closest to him, had a face that looked like it'd been kicked by a mule, a dozen times or more, potato shaped, with deep set eyes, rimmed with bruise like dark rings, though Adem guessed they were signs of lack of sleep. That one had the aura, along with a skinny Nordic-blood with cold blue eyes and another aged mortal with a confused look to the burning in his eyes. They all had that familiar flame in their eyes, the first signs of madness. The one closest to him was called Bolkred, as the blue-eyed Nordic said to him, 'Tell him who we are, Bolkred!' There was a shrill sound to that voice, dangerous and wicked. It sent a cold shiver down Adem's spine, as he regarded that flare of menace in those cold blue eyes. He guessed that one was possessed. His name was Elahahn, as Bolkred replied, 'I'll tell him, Elahahn. I'll tell him for sure!'

Adem wasn't certain if Bolkred was possessed, or just a puppet for Elahahn, but Bolkred was mad, there could be no question about that when Adem saw the hostile look in his eyes that also appeared cross-eyed and uncertain of himself. They say it takes one to know one, and to Adem's perceptions, this Bolkred was quite clearly insane! He lunged at Adem over his table as he spoke; gesturing with his right hand while his left remained behind his back in a gentlemanly fashion, but his words and his eyes explained the extent of the corruption upon his mind and soul. 'I see you are Torvellen, though a short one at that! Was your mother a florist?' The way he phrased the two sentences together suggested that they made any sense at all when spoken one after the other. Adem was about to suggest that he did not see how the two sentences related to one another when he thought better of it and allowed Bolkred to continue. 'Did your father always walk with coppers in his boots? A stone's throw is only two leagues if you run the whole way. Have you been to the Waltzing Duckling of late?' That last question made sense to Adem. He had been to the Waltzing Duckling earlier this week. Of course, he already knew these men were Shadowsouled who had followed his trail. They would be under the command of higher ranking Shadowsouled, perhaps going up a ladder as high as one of the Hex-Warlords. He gave no response. Elahahn hissed as he shouted, 'He is the one for certain! Keep at him, Bolkred!' Bolkred glanced at the wall to his right as if it had spoken to him—while Elahahn stood talking to his left—then he nodded and continued, saying, 'You have travelled a lot lately. Are you familiar with the mating rituals of flying gropers? Have you ever been to Domrelle? Are your socks green or made of wheat?' It seemed to Adem that Bolkred was on the right track, he just had trouble keeping those odd questions out of his interrogation.

Adem realised that at first—when Adem failed to see how the first two sentences correlated—Bolkred had been meaning to ask whether Adem's Torvellen disguise had had a mortal mother but seemed to get confused at the end of sentences and replaced the word mortal with florist. Other times he seemed to just babble incoherently or spout local sayings, but it was becoming clear these men had followed him since Adem bought the new clothes in Domrelle. At that town and also at the Waltzing Duckling, Adem had asked various men about the rumours of puppet masters leading Torvellen armies as well as in the capital. It was all to lead assassins such as these men right to him.

Elahahn hissed again in that high-pitched tone that was very unusual for an immortal male, saying, 'You're getting your words mixed up again, Bolkred!' Then the blue-eyed immortal regarded Adem as he said, 'Do you know why we let him lead? It is because he is the strongest amongst us!' Adem knew that was the truth, despite being spoken by a man possessed by an evil spirit. Bolkred was the strongest. Adem could sense that Bolkred was almost as powerful as himself in Angel-Magic. Adem grinned to acknowledge Elahahn's words. That brought a stunned look to Elahahn's face, and he shouted, 'Shield-Trap him!'

Shield-Traps of Angel-Magic— both Fire-and-Air-Magic—snapped tight around Adem, cutting him off from teron. Bolkred had formed the Shield-Spell, and he was linked with Elahahn and the other mortal with the dark aura. That third man was now repeatedly turning his head to one side, a full right-hand twist of his neck and then back again to staring straight ahead, then repeated, then back again. Adem scoffed at the extent of the man's symptoms, he knew this man was also not showing signs of possession, he was simply mad to the point of losing control of his motor functions. Of the other four, there was no aura, despite the dangerous glow to their eyes that showed madness was rife in every one of them. The youngest was a dark-haired mortal no older than nineteen, of a height with Adem with concern evident behind that dangerous dark-eyed glow. The boy spoke up, saying, 'He is surely the one we're looking for. Shouldn't we report back to—'

'Don't utter his name!' Elahahn snapped. 'I will skin you alive if you speak again, Hurik! Release your Angel-Magic and wait for my commands!' Hurik shrugged his shoulders, and the fire went out of his eyes as he released his hold on teron. He then appeared to Adem to be the least mad of them all. It gave him a new theory, that these possession spirits used groups of Alit'aren or Seidr'tera like these men as a group of potential hosts, inhabiting the body of the most susceptible, and influencing others to follow him, all the while making them more ill by ordering them to wield Angel-Magic on his command. He realised this Hurik might be a rebel of the decree, but he was perhaps not evil at all, and perhaps only half mad at most. These thoughts flickered through Adem's mind as he sat with a tense frown, feeling the Shield-Traps that held Angel-Magic out of his reach.

Seconds passed before Bolkred lunged forwards again, saying, 'So, you are a wielder also! I did not sense it in you at first. This suggests you have special knowledge in teron. Are you an Aldebrand, I wonder, or a Seidr'tera, or perhaps you are even an Alit'aren? Tell me, do you like to wear your boots while sitting in porridge? Have you been inquiring about the colour of my socks?' Adem guessed Bolkred had meant to ask if Adem had been inquiring about the rumours of Shadowsouled in Torvis, especially about those highest up the chain of command. Elahahn hissed impatiently again, 'Your words, Bolkred! You're getting your words mixed up again! Ask him the most important question?' Bolkred focused on the right wall again as if it were the speaker and nodded his agreement before he continued, asking; 'Are you an agent of the Sons of Odin?' Adem grinned like a sly wolf, before he casually replied, 'Yes.'

Elahahn grinned also, rubbing his hands together in prayer position before he began to speak in a deep and powerful voice, only his lips did not move at all the entire time the words emanated from his form. Adem realised it must've been the possessing spirit talking. The words amplified throughout the room and brought an even colder shiver down his spine. Before he spoke, Elahahn tossed a palm sized object that glinted gold, towards a shadowed corner. Adem realised too late that it was a Jhin-Tap.

We await you, my master. We have found the one you are searching for.

The last light of the sun had slid below the hills over an hour before the men entered the room, and the candlelight of the common room flared, and the fire on the hearth blossomed with a golden-orange fluorescence, as a dark cloaked figure emerged from the shadows, at the back of the room where the Jhin-Tap had landed. The figure was tall, and hooded, with darkness within the cowl. Adem felt the evil presence of the Souljhin the moment it appeared, obviously entering the inn through the shadows after its summoning, possibly travelling from a great distance via the unusual teleportation method these creatures had mastered long ago. The sense of evil that radiated from the Souljhin was moderate, much stronger than the presence of the Ghosts of Bright, but nothing compared to a High-Servant exuding at full force. Still, that reminder of his youth at Bright always added to Adem's ill health, and always filled him with dread he could not control. His hands began to tremble on the tabletop, as his mouth turned down in a grimace.

The Souljhin removed its hood, drawing back the dark shadow cloth to reveal the pasty white skin and bald scabbed scalp of their kind, pointed ears similar to immortals though larger and ribbed like batwings. Though, it was the eyes that stared around that hooked beak of a nose that were always so disconcerting to Adem's nerves, large black seeds that reflected the light, shining orbs of pure malevolence, bloodlust and hatred. The creature hissed as it slithered towards the table, remaining close to the front of the bar to Adem's left. The dark cloak blended with the shadows around the wood and its scaled ebony armour also glowed with an unnatural reflection, like oiled and lacquered metallic stone. A silver human skull was emblazoned upon its thick dark leather belt buckle, where its tainted blade hung in a black scabbard, the same insignia for the red leather-coiled hilt and steel cross-guard.

The Souljhin was not what Adem was expecting, and the surprise of its appearance made him more than nervous. Shield-Trapped, Adem could not summon his Battle Angels, and the speed of a Souljhin at crossing that space between them and its known reputation as a swordsman made for an uncomfortable situation. The Shield-Spells were of no concern for him, he could still wield his other form of magic that did not require teron and only required some ki'mera to fuel his attacks. But that Souljhin really made his blood feel cold as ice. Its evil force was colder than the bones of winter; blazing like the darkest fires of the soul.

He needed a distraction, just to buy him a few moments. He decided to ask God for help, as he spoke up, saying, '"The path of the righteous is like the first gleam of dawn, shining ever brighter till the full light of day.''' That was a Bible quote, Proverbs 4, 18. The quote was something Carl had tutored Adem on during the first month of winter before he abandoned his friends. Elahahn wore a puzzled frown, and the Souljhin froze as if uncertain. Adem liked to think the words were perplexing to the demon-man and the possession spirit. Bolkred lunged forwards again with an inward cross-eyed gaze as he said in a deep tone, 'A soothsayer also! That is a surprise! Do you have many such sayings? A cup of stones is like a loaf of bread from your enemies. A sugared dumpling is like the lies of a friend. Will you sell me your boots for my morning tea?' Adem thought those first two sounded like genuine sayings, so he used the man's curiosity to spout another Bible quote. He thought the metaphorical style of Proverbs would suit Bolkred's interest in such sayings, so he quoted Proverbs 3, 13, saying, '"Blessed is the man who finds wisdom, the man who gains understanding, for she is more profitable than silver and yields better returns than gold.''' Then he quoted Matthew 7, 6, almost shouting, '"Do not give dogs what is sacred; do not throw your pearls to pigs.'' The Souljhin hissed impatiently, saying, 'He talks in riddles. He must be mad. Do not indulge him Bolkred!'

But Bolkred was intrigued, and he responded, saying, 'A veritable prophet of words and wise sayings! Do you know the one about the three mules, or the one concerning the darning of my underpants? Did you buy that coat in Domrelle?'

'We already know he is the one!' Elahahn hissed. 'Keep him Shield-Trapped. We will take him for further questioning.'

Adem gave another quote, Proverbs, 3, 15. It made him think of Jean as he said, '"She is more precious than rubies, nothing you desire can compare with her.''' It made his heart ache over his betrayal with Isabelle. Of course, that was taking the quote out of context, as Carl had suggested the word 'she' referred to 'wisdom.' Then as Bolkred mused over the worth of that statement Adem looked to Hurik and said, 'You look like a good kid. I'll give you to the count of three to get out of here if you want to live. Head for Rutheldor or Korhad or Orodhel and stay with those you can trust. Obey the decree and try to stay sane. You can make it kid. I have faith in you.' The Souljhin hissed with fury and disbelief, saying, 'What did you say? He's not mad, he's a—'

The Souljhin clutched the hilt of its blade as a series of clanging sounds were heard from the kitchen. Adem began to grin again.

A great emerald lizard the size of a lion crashed through the kitchen door behind the bar, launching onto the bar and raising blue ribbed wings as its front claws reached out to grasp hold of the Souljhin by the shoulders, pulling it backwards to bite off the pasty white skull with its long crocodile teeth and fangs. Shienden'kroxus had grown a lot over these past few months, and the dragon roared at the Alit'aren with dark blood dripping from its jaws as the Souljhin body collapsed to the floor. Adem looked to Hurik and said, 'One!'

The boy raced through the common room towards the door.

Elahahn shrieked at the top of his lungs, 'It's him! Kill him!' Bolkred gestured as if to begin the spell that he intended to use to burn Adem to a crisp, but at that moment Adem locked Shield-Traps down around the six men, Shield-Spells not of Angel-Magic, yet they cut the wielders off from teron just as effectively. It was his new gift that he used to do this, and Elahahn shrieked again when he realised his fate. Then he looked to Bolkred as he said, 'I have another quote for you to think about.' This one was Proverbs, 2, 12. '"Wisdom will save you from the ways of wicked men, from men whose words are perverse, who leave the straight paths to walk in dark ways, who delight in doing wrong and rejoice in the perverseness of evil, whose paths are crooked and who are devious in their ways.'''

Bolkred's eyes rolled in their sockets as he stood frozen by the Shield-Trap, before he replied with a confounded expression, 'But I live to serve the All-Father!'

Adem fought down the urge to scream his response, though he spoke through clenched teeth, 'The Souljhin knew you by name, Bolkred. You are a madman on an evil path. You and yours will "receive your reward in full.''' That last half quote was from a number of passages in Matthew, including Matthew, 6, 2. It referred to hypocrites who tried to show off their good nature, but Adem considered himself a hypocrite as Matthew 5, 44, says, 'Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven.'

Or Sons of Odin, Adem thought to himself reluctantly.

With the shields maintained he could possibly walk away, but if one of them got free while his back was turned ... it always seemed that death was the only choice for him. Adem looked at Elahahn as he spoke in a soft but dangerous way, asking, 'Will you feel pain when your host dies? I hope so.' Elahahn's eyes went wide with fear. He guessed these possession spirits would not like being identified. 'I know you're the only one who will live to tell the tale, so I give you a message. Tell your master that Adem Highlander sends his regards.' He could pray for their souls later. Shienden coughed up a trail of smoke and a flickering of orange light rose from his tongue, then the dragon roared as he suddenly unleashed blasts of flames that set the entire room ablaze from wall to wall.

***

Hurik was listening to the roar of that creature inside the inn. Whatever it was, it was making the horses whinny and buck as they pulled against their reins. Then he heard it roar again as the windows burst with golden-orange flames, and the screams of his companions filled his ears. He knew they were dying in there! He was trying to calm his dark colt and lead it away from the flames, but he knew he should free the other horses first. Who was that Torvellen? How had he overpowered six Alit'aren? Hurik couldn't remember parts of their journey in pursuit of the man. At first, he'd joined the group and fled the city because he wanted to join the rebels at Orodhel. Elahahn had promised they would get there, eventually, but he kept changing the mission to pursuing this Torvellen who was reportedly asking too many questions. Hurik had never trusted Elahahn, but he put his faith in the man's leadership, and Bolkred, as they were both strong in Angel-Magic, and both men were willing to lead him to a place where he would not be restricted in his wielding of teron. But Elahahn had summoned a Souljhin! Hurik could not believe he had not sensed the evil presence of the creature until after that lizard beast had bitten off its skull. The evil resonance of the Souljhin had felt like ... sunlight on the soul. He must've been out of his mind to not realise it was one of his sworn enemies standing in the same room.

He was untying the last of the reins, and the muscular altherin stallion—Elahahn's horse—was bolting from the burning inn, when the great dark beast, with huge wings like a bat, burst through the roof of flames, and into the starlit sky, breathing a trail of orange flames, to reveal its lizard shaped form. He realised me must be looking at a dragon! Then the Torvellen came marching out of the inn, his blue coat and boots and leather trousers untouched by the flames that surrounded him, some kind of shield was protecting the man, though he was not wielding Angel-Magic! His face was changed though, he was not Torvellen. He was a mortal! Hurik stared at those hard features, clear blue eyes with a burning darkness within, an angular jaw, long face and dark hair tied in a braid with a ginger moustache and dark brown goatee. He then realised that he knew this man. It was Adem Highlander, the Dragon Son of Odin!

The dragon roared again as it circled the skies above, its wings illuminated by the glow of the blazing building. Smoke billowed into the air above the burning rooftop, and the building was starting to collapse as heavy timber beams crashed to the floors within. 'Thank you, for sparing my life, Adem Highlander,' Hurik said with fist pressed to heart in salute. Highlander stared at Hurik's face with scrutiny, before he said, 'You don't look well. Your friend Elahahn was possessed by an evil spirit. It will latch onto you if you do not receive treatment immediately. May I?' Highlander gestured to Hurik's skull, and he realised the man was offering wield Healing-Magic on him. Hurik nodded, bowing his head towards the Blue Water Dragon, and felt the ice-cold rush of Angel-Magic flow through his flesh and bones, drenching his spirit! When he released his hold, Hurik felt refreshed, and the darkness that had gripped his soul had subsided, for now. Memories flashed through his mind of his childhood, his father's face, his mother's smile and warm hugs. He suddenly longed for the taste of a hot meal, a warm apple cider and a fire to dry his clothes. He was human again, he was sane.

Highlander stared at him with a grimace as he said hurriedly, 'Get on your horse, ride like the wind and don't look back. Don't wield unless you need to create shields to protect yourself from now until you reach Orodhel. Ask to speak to Carl Wilder, tell them I sent you, and tell him your story. He needs to hear it. Now go!' Highlander turned and started to walk away into the darkness. Hurik climbed into his saddle and looked to the blazing building for another moment, then booted his heels into the colt's flanks and started off as fast as the horse could bolt.

Chapter 11

Evidence of Evil

Carl sat in the dark cell under the illumination of a bulb of blue flame, that revealed the troubled face of a man he had under interrogation. He was starting with those amongst the rebels who'd recently been placed under arrest, for losing control of their senses, and attacking their peers without provocation. The dark-eyed aged mortal he was studying—Tuhahk was his name—had taken off the right arm of a fellow Alit'aren, before he was Shield-Trapped and taken into custody. None of the other Alit'aren were allowed wield Healing-Magic on the wounded man, though they were able to carry him to an Ael Tarael in time to save him from dying of blood loss. Lez was the name of the mortal whose arm now ended in a stump close to where his wrist should be.

Four Alit'aren stood guarding Tuhahk outside the cell bars, all in their black coats, the two mortals in the group often glaring with concern at Carl and his subject. Carl wanted to study the very sick patients first, those that were soon to be prevented from ever wielding Angel-Magic again, to get an idea about this theory of demon spirits inhabiting the souls of madmen. Possession was a word and concept Carl was familiar with, though finding evidence of evil in one of these men would certainly be alarming. 'What is your name?' It was the fourth time Carl had asked that question, and again the man gave the right response, stating his name through clenched teeth with a harsh glare, as if he were roasting within his skin. 'Where were you born?' Again, Tuhahk named the town of his birth, a small village north of Calicos named Hivestoll. Carl had visited the village, during his recruitment of soldiers for the mission in the Southlands. He recalled nothing odd in particular about the people there; except perhaps only the fact that they all showed signs of caution towards any man wearing Alit'aren black. That was common everywhere these days of course. Carl continued his questions, a series of exercises to help him identify any foreign entity residing in this particularly ill case study. 'What was your mother's name?'

'I have no Mother!' The man spat the words with a twisted scowl. Every other time, Tuhahk had answered plainly that his mother's name was Renatae. This time, he spoke in a high-pitched tone, that was disturbing to hear. He sounded cold, deceptive and wicked. 'My Father is the Shadow!' That made Carl's skin prickle, a cold shiver running down his spine, as he saw a greater emotion of malice in those dark eyes, that also burnt with the sure signs of a man in the grip of madness. Carl could perceive the two personalities at work in this man, the madman and the demon. He was clearly possessed; Carl had deduced that the rumours were true before examining this patient, but he had seen little proof until now. Even a madman would not speak such words unless he was controlled by a power stronger than his own will.

'What is your name?' Carl asked in a calm tone, his eyes drilling into the dark glare of his patient.

'My name is Eternal Suffering; bloodshed, broken bones and searing flesh! I am the Watcher in the Shadows, the Claw that rips Hearts from chests. I am now, I have always been, and I shall forever be the Enemy of Men.'

That was the beginning of the game Carl would play against this demon. The creature would try to avoid giving up its name, and Carl hoped that if he could gain its true name, he may have the strength to exorcise this demon through the Power of Christ. He still had doubts of the extent of Christ's Power in this realm, though he would make the attempt to see if it was possible. 'What is your name, demon?' The possessed man began to bark and growl at being named as a demon. The Shield-Spell held the figure tightly bound with invisible wards of Air-Magic, but the man struggled with a ferocious snarl twisting his lips, as his face became red: lines bulging out the sides of his neck—

Suddenly Carl became aware of Adem, as if his friend had stopped blocking the sense between them for the moments that he allowed a message to be sent via their Battle Angels. Carl sensed that Adem was on the verge of madness, he sensed his tension, his distrust, and that he was also in the midst of a battle, fighting all alone!

I'm losing a part of myself, Carl. I can't feel anymore. There is no light in me anymore, only darkness there, but I feel nothing.

Carl took this message very seriously, more so than the fact that Adem was fighting on his own. If he began to lose all sense of feeling in his soul, Carl believed that Adem would become even more dangerous. Carl began to say a silent prayer for his friend, asking God to give Adem distinct pain in his heart, just enough to remind Adem what it felt like, enough to keep him in control. He did not send any word of this through his Battle Angels, but he asked God to; Make him feel it now!

He continued to focus on this prayer while his gaze returned to the possessed man in front of him. 'What is your name?' Tuhahk squirmed in his chair with teeth gnashing as Carl began to wield subtle spells within the flesh of the man, seeking out the demon within while trying to overpower it.

'I am the Hand that chokes his Brother in the Night,' Tuhahk cried, 'the Blade that Cuts when the lights go out! I am the Soul of Darkness, my name inspires terror, and I am the Tongue of Deception! I will cut out your heart and feast on your blood!' Carl blinked at that last comment, and at the same time allowed the possessed man to feel pain through the spells he sent through his body, testing to see whether it also caused pain to the demon inside of him. The response of the man suggested this idea was working, as Tuhahk began to groan and grind his teeth, as his hands clawed at the Air-Magic that held him tightly bound. 'You cannot win, Son of Odin! If you cast me out of this body, I will take another, as will all of my kind, again and again, causing chaos in your ranks! There is no hope for you!'

Carl considered his one hope would be finding a fast and effective way to exorcise these demons. It might save his life and the lives of his friends if he was successful. Adem was shut off from his senses once more, but Carl was certain his prayer would work. He sent a message to his friend via Math Mathonwy. You can't fight all alone! You need to stay sane, Adem. Listen to your heart.

***

Adem cast a ball of blue flame that illuminated the dark night like a small star; it flew through the air to punch through the dark armour of a Boli-Kuldr with a ram's skull. The beast made horrible sounds similar to a goat as blue lightning engulfed its form, shuddering as it fell to its knees then collapsed face down in the snow. He'd taken down over twenty of the beasts that way so far, using teron to create the Fire-Magic, as he found those attacks were quite effective and Angel-Magic was therefore required to keep himself alive in this battle. Summoning a pair of Golden Soldiers with laser cannon arms would cut down demons this size even faster, but the amount of ki'mera needed to fuel even two Soldiers for the duration of this battle would leave him vulnerable to further attacks.

His enemies had managed to bring a large force of demons, deep northwest of Tarvel, most likely through a Travelling Gate, and he'd been pursued for over an hour as he trudged through thick snow under the moonlight. He was holding back a cold sweat, his Alit'aren meditation techniques sufficing for now to keep him dry and reasonably calm. One thing that had changed since he sent a message to Carl; was that he had suddenly felt sharp and precise pain in his heart—though he would still call it a good pain—that was building now and flowing through him in waves that kept him from going over the edge into madness.

He'd sent the message to Carl about having no feeling in his heart, because he knew his friend would pray to try to heal that ill. Being without Healer-Magic for so long and having to wield so often was taking its toll on his psyche. The corruption on teron seemed to be soaking into his bones! It was a foul shadow smothering the illumination of Angel-Magic. It filled his soul with darkness. Adem perceived this was the onset of evil.

Without being told by Carl, Adem was still certain his friend had prayed for him and asked God to put that pain in his heart, to remind him to feel and to keep him from losing his mind. Adem knew this must be the truth of it, and he realised again—as he had that night at Bright—that Carl had great strength in his connection to God. The fact that Adem was feeling that pain so distinctly and so suddenly after sending that message to Carl, was proof of a kind of miracle that was even more incredible than the kigare connection they shared.

Adem gestured towards a dark armoured figure lunging from the shadows of a copse. A bar of red light launched from his fist to strike the bull horned beast; its body burst into flames. Two more were charging up behind him, he turned and gestured towards them in a sweeping motion, this time using his Matter-Manipulation Magic. Beams of light like horizontal slanting blades glowed within their flesh; the creatures fell with severed skulls in spurts of dark blood, torso and limbs collapsed like a doll torn to shreds.

He could have left this place and found safety in other lands where his enemies were not able to close their net in around him, but this was all a part of his plans. Overhead Shienden roared as he swooped over the fields, unleashing streams of golden-orange fire as dozens of Boli-Kuldr fell screaming in pillars of flames. A crimson armoured Nymloc charged forwards on all fours like a dark hound with razor sharp claws, barking savagely as it approached. Adem gestured towards the creature and it instantly blazed with emerald fire, screaming as it burnt until the armour fell to the snow; green embers floating in the wind. A Souljhin charged from the shadows on a tall dark horse—the moonlight revealing dark orbs glaring from the hooded cloak—Adem whipped his right arm across like a sweeping blade as the Shadow Rider fell in two halves with a splatter of blood, although there had been over ten feet distance between his gesture and the slaughtered figure. He preferred matter manipulation to take down Souljhin, as they were usually impervious to most Fire-Magic when wielding teron. He gestured again to send a red flare to startle the Jinn-Steed. The beast stamped its hooves then bolted into the shadows.

Adem heard a message from Carl, transferred to Adem's mind via Arawn; You can't fight all alone! You need to stay sane, Adem. Listen to your heart.

Adem tried to block out the voice, but the ache in his heart increased after hearing those words. He began to feel very heavy, as if his arms were made of stone. He wondered if that was also a part of Carl's Power, or whether he was just starting to tire. He gestured towards two ram skulled beasts; twin bolts of lightning launched from his fists to strike their thick muscular forms, ripping holes through scaled breastplates; they collapsed with hollow groans. Their net was closing too tightly, so he created a Portal-Spell in the air as he summoned Shienden from the skies. The emerald dragon flew through the Portal-Magic moments before Adem leapt after him to land further north. They already knew who they were chasing; he did not need to hide his abilities any further.

He landed on a large hillside leading down towards a dark flowing river to the north. Scattered trees made dark shapes in the distance and along the water's edge. Guttural cries filled the air as hordes of Boli-Kuldr appeared further north and to the east. Shienden unleashed a wall of flames upon the northern demons, dark bodies suddenly bathed in golden light! As he heard their death screams, Adem reminded himself that these creatures were all victims of Jinn-Fendinn. All pawns in his game!

But then he wondered; was this just a part of the corruption plaguing his mind? For if he felt compassion for evil, was he not also becoming evil? No! His empathy for these creatures would be something to hold on to when his mind began to slip. It was what defined him as a good person. He wanted to believe that was the truth. He gestured to the east and a dozen dark-armoured figures burst into crimson flames! Their screams sounded all too human for his nerves to handle! How many deaths would weigh upon his soul before this game was ended?

***

Jean and Terese were making their way to one of the high tower lookouts with Isabelle in tow. Elarja and Arig marched ahead of them with four Ael Tarael in front and seven close- behind as well as Lydia and Elmira and their husbands. Terese was content to trust these particular men who were a part of their entourage, but she was reluctant to allow any others to get close to Jean or Isabelle—

A chilling howl started up again as they ascended the winding staircase. They had heard those wolf cries many times during their journey to the watchtower, after an Aldebrand reported to Terese that a number of very large Shadowspawn had been spotted on the fields surrounding the city walls. The description of enormous black wolves was more than concerning, as they were either werewolves who'd travelled from the Southlands or they were something much worse. Elarja seemed to be fearful of the latter.

The Time Strider had been greatly concerned about the rift in the timelines since his return to Kismeria. His theory suggested these wolves may be creatures from the ancient past that had somehow made it through one of those rifts. Elarja cautioned her on this possibility as they neared the lookout, stating that their howls sounded very much like his memory of Demonwolves. 'They are very hard to destroy with Angel-Magic,' Elarja stated. 'Even Battle Angels will struggle to defeat them before their ki'mera reserves are depleted.'

Jean reached the lookout, a wide grey stone fortress in the sky overlooking the fields beyond the city walls. They'd made their way to the outer wall on horseback, after Jean sent a summoning message to Carl, Wil and Hayley via her Battle Angels. She could have used one of those newly discovered Portal-Spells through space to reach her destination in short order; however, Jean was still reluctant to use Angel-Magic unless the matter was extremely urgent. The soldier reported that the creatures were just patrolling the fields and that there were no civilians or warriors out there at any risk, so she took the long way to conserve her ki'mera and also avoid touching terael.

Her blood ran cold as her eyes fell upon one of the dark shapes on the moonlit field. The first she saw was twice the size of any werewolf according to Tanriel who also assured her that these were indeed Demonwolves! Jean had her sword hilt rising above her shoulder and her bow across her back in the leather case, wearing a dark green coat that hung below her hips, thick blue woollen stockings and brown leather boots. It was similar to Terese's usual outfits, though of late the former Hero of Will seemed to be dressing up a little. Jean wondered at the source of that change of heart. Is she attracted to Elarja?

Her focus held the crouched dark shape with blood red eyes that glowed in its shadowed skull. It raised its wolf maw to howl at the silvered moon, Elarja's shoulders sagging as he realised the identity of the beast. 'My worst fears are confirmed,' Elarja said, sounding hollow. 'The rift has reached the real world. This could be just the beginning of our troubles.' Jean sent another message to Carl and Wil. This is urgent! Come to me immediately!

She made her location clear to them via Tanriel and Anwen, and moments later the two men appeared as they stepped out through one of those glowing warps in the air—both in Alit'aren black—with Hayley close behind, wearing a blue silk gown and nursing her baby girl in her arms. Enserah was wrapped in a red silk blanket with a blue green woollen suit with hood and socks attached. The howling of the creatures seemed to disturb the child's countenance, though she did not start to wail.

Carl had his crimson spear in hand, extended to full length, and Wil also gripped his golden double-bladed axe. Their expressions were troubled as they gazed out at the dark forms crouching there. It was likely they were receiving word from their Battle Angels about the history of the creatures. Hayley showed greater concern for Enserah as she bent her head over the child and whispered softly to her. The woman would have to get used to leaving the child in the care of nurses and guards if she was to be of much use. Of course, her Battle Angel could still fight while Hayley held Enserah in her arms.

'We cannot fight them,' Elarja almost spat the words. 'I spot at least twelve of those creatures out there, and there could be more. Even one is enough to overpower a host of Carl's Shadow Hounds.'

'So, what do we do then?' Jean asked, as she was reminded of how keen immortal sight can be. She could only see three of the beasts.

'I fear we must wait for Adem Highlander to return to us,' Elarja said with a troubled gaze as he looked upon the three that were now standing together in the snow; their howls were horrific. 'Only Adem's new ability could have an impact against these creatures; or perhaps if Serock were here—'

'Serock has betrayed us!' Jean exclaimed. She still felt like a fool to have trusted that evil soul. He had surely been a part of some great plot of Fendinn's to win their trust. Why had he not returned to fulfil that aim? She felt confident that the man was still wicked.

'That remains to be proven,' Elarja contested. 'I would be the first to agree with you in regard to that man; however, it is possible he has been in some way delayed in his return to us.'

'What reasons do you have to hold on to such hopes?' Jean asked.

'Just a feeling I have. I don't think he would have abandoned us without good reason.'

'He's been gone for months regardless of the reason,' Wil said. 'We can't do anything about Serock. We must summon Adem back to us. I'm trying to reach him now, but he's blocking me, as he has done ever since he left us.'

'I can reach him if need be,' Carl said with a cautious expression. Jean still wondered about their secret communications. 'It will take some time for him to come to his senses, however. He's nearly lost to us completely, lost and alone. I sense that he is at the edge of madness. He needs Healing-Magic; before he becomes a vessel for one of those possession demons. I fear his enemies may be planning just such a tactic for him.'

'So, you are certain these possession spirits are real then?' Elarja asked with a note of intrigue.

'I was always sure they existed, in this world and our own. I have proof now. Adem is in great danger if he cannot be brought back from the brink of insanity.'

'Then we must work out where he is and get to him now!' Jean shouted in outrage. 'How could you allow the situation to become this desperate without informing me of the danger he's in?'

'His mission was apparently very important,' Carl replied with a tone of guilt. 'I've tried in my own way to make him realise that he can't win this battle on his own, but he keeps blocking, and I can never know for certain where he is. My other concern is if we appear via Portal-Magic close to where he is now, he might think we are one of the Hex-Warlords, and he could strike us all down before he realises that it's his friends trying to rescue him.'

'We must make him realise!' Jean cried. 'Tell your big bully Battle Angels to find out exactly where his is right now! Math and Dis Pater are closest to Arawn; they can get through to that big lug! Get it done!'

Suddenly the air was filled with bloodthirsty cries, it sounded like all of them were howling at once until their presence was washing over them like a corrupt vapour; distinct waves of evil resonating from the creatures. It was like the Souljhin, only much more powerful to be detected over such a great distance. She looked again to the moonlit fields to see thirteen of the beasts standing in a line, all of them crouching on all fours as they wailed like the darkest of nightmares; pure evil incarnate!

Come back to us, Adem! I'm lost without you!

Chapter 12

The Bait is Set

Adem leapt through the air, climbing over twelve feet off the ground and travelling fifteen feet before landing on the soft snow and leaping again. He'd used this ability to gain some ground as he attempted to move out of the clutches of the main horde of demons this far north of Tarvel. After over an hour of using this jump technique, he was starting to sweat a little, but the physical endurance required to perform this newly adapted skill was all a part of his ongoing training to become a true Alit'aren. The real problem was that he was slipping into symptoms of madness once again. Carl's rescue prayer had only worked for that short time, and even though the pain endured in his heart, he became immune to its call.

Shienden roared while circling the sky above. It was a warning that the dragon had spotted enemies.

Adem saw dark armoured beasts rushing for him through the snow. He gestured towards the three Boli-Kuldr with a sweeping arc of his right hand, the three figures collapsed as dark blood flooded the moonlit snow. He leapt again, this time travelling over twenty feet across the mostly flattened landscape, besides an occasional rise or fall of sloping hillsides, with scattered pine or oak trees. This was mostly farmland, these fields were used for grazing, and he intentionally avoided moving towards the crop fields which would lead demons close to farmhouses. He knew there would be victims taken from an invasion of this scale, however. He tried to tell himself that he could not save them all. But then he realised, if he had not gone off on this mission, these demons might never have been brought to these lands. Well, perhaps that was a naive notion, as the Hex-Warlords would work their plans no matter what choices he made.

At least twenty tall Boli-Kuldr moved towards him from the northwest. Shienden swooped down out of the sky and scorched the demons in waves of golden-orange flames! Adem took out the smaller groups, and Shienden was always there to attack when a larger force appeared. Adem's new concern was that the Hex-Warlords might begin to target the dragon. Shienden was effective for attacking such forces from the sky, but if an adept enemy began to strike back, the little dragon may not be satisfactorily equipped to protect himself—

A warp of Air-Magic brought a cloaked shadow figure into view to his right, as crimson Fire-Magic lanced towards him like a giant glowing blade. He used his thought to create a Shield-Sphere in time to block the attack, not a Shield-Spell of teron, but just as effective using his matter manipulation technique. Adem gestured, and a Shield-Trap formed around the Hex-Warlord, he could feel it as Angel-Magic was cut off from the figure. The Shield-Trap also held the man where he stood, Adem's ability with Shield-Spells had increased immensely during the time he'd spent with Shienden. Adem leapt for the figure, wielding teron this time as Blades of Odin flew from his fists to strike the Hex-Warlord. The blast sent the cloaked shadow flying off into the darkness! The attack would merely wound his enemy however, and the Spear of Odin was still something Adem couldn't achieve when wielding teron. He'd used his matter manipulation to create an emulation of the Spear when he attacked Calliach. The only times he had been able to create Odin's Spear had been the result of a freakish surge in Angel-Magic, possibly due to the desperation he felt from being caught in such vulnerable circumstances.

Another bolt of crimson flame flew towards him, this time from the west, when the High-Servant had been sent flying to the east. He knew this was the same High-Servant however, and his Shield-Sphere had still been formed, although it drained his ki'mera each time he blocked such strikes. A Boli-Kuldr horde ploughed towards him from the north, and more from the southwest. Shienden swooped upon the northern force; setting dozens alight, though there were over a hundred of the demons in that group, and the dragon circled round for a second attempt. Suddenly the High-Servant appeared in front of Adem through a warp of Air-Magic, the shining crimson mask of the figure told him this was most likely Arkori Bloodfiend!

This was the first time Adem had encountered this Hex-Warlord, and Arawn informed him to be extra alert when facing this one. Suddenly, a message got through to him from Jean, despite his blocking.

Come back to us, Adem! I'm lost without you!

The shock of those words nearly made him lose his footing, as Arkori raised his dark blade that glowed with crimson fire, striking down on Adem's Shield-Spell—Adem had caught Arkori by surprise with the first Shield-Trap, now the High-Servant was able to resist and move freely—as Adem shouted, 'Arawn!'

Fire Pythons exploded around his Shield-Sphere, twisting around his front in a maze of blue light, the snakes snapping at a Shield-Spell that now protected Arkori. Adem could not fight a High-Servant with the sword; he needed Arawn for this task. The ten feet tall shadow rose behind Arkori, silver-skull mask blazing with caverns of golden light within the eye sockets; Arawn was a spectre of nightmares! A red flare struck the side of Arkori's Shield-Sphere; Arawn's giant crimson blade. The impact sent sparks flying off the invisible ward, Arawn hacking to shift the High-Servant from his attack position. During these brief moments Arkori's blade had been trapped in the jaws of one those Fire Pythons that served as Adem's Shield-Spell.

Adem used the distraction to form Portal-Magic behind his body, leaping back and through to land ten feet to the west, where he launched two more Blades of Odin from his fists. The twin blades of blue fire struck Arkori's Shield-Sphere, and the High-Servant was sent flying again with Arawn in pursuit.

Adem could now also sense many messages being sent via his friends' Battle Angels. Llew Llaw Gyffes confirmed that Demonwolves had made it through a time rift! Then he sensed that his friends were travelling towards him, moving from the Borderlands to somewhere close to his location in a single step. He knew they were using Portal-Spells, but they must've landed some distance away to give him warning that they were approaching. He heard a message from Jean via Tanriel.

We're coming to rescue you!

Adem turned to face the horde approaching from the southwest. He saw now that dozens more had caught up behind the first wave while he was distracted. Boli-Kuldr were very fast runners, even in snow this thick. He decided there were too many for him to handle on his own. He glanced to the north to see Shienden still sweeping the northern demons with his Dragonfire. The Elemental Magic of dragons was more powerful than the fires of Battle Angels, stripping flesh from demon bones to leave piles of ash. Even Boli-Kuldr could be reduced to dust in a matter of seconds.

Adem shouted, 'Balor!' as the ten feet tall bearded spirit in blue armour charged for the line of Boli-Kuldr, wielding his massive axe of blue flames that he swung to cleave through dark armour and demon flesh! Adem looked to the southeast and saw another bulk of demons charging towards him. He shouted, 'Llew Llaw Gyffes!' and the twelve feet tall man, of blue burning muscle, and golden scaled armour, soared towards those demons on wings of blue light! The massive long horns that stuck out either side of his helmet, were pulsing with a crimson glow, as the Battle Angel struck at the demon wedge with his burning mauve blade. The demons scattered under the force of those assaults, their lines buckled: the creatures wailed with terror, cut to pieces in sprays of dark blood!

He sent a reply to Carl, Wil and Jean via their Battle Angels.

It's too dangerous! Get out of here!

He heard Jean's reply via Tanriel to Arawn.

We need your help, Adem! We can't defeat the Demonwolves without you! We also fear you are in danger of becoming possessed! You need Healing-Magic! Listen to me!

He tried to block out the voices that battered at his senses. They were all sending desperate messages at the same time. They were all close now, but they'd split up in three positions to the south, southeast and southwest. He became filled with rage over Carl's decision to bring Jean into danger. His blood began to boil, that familiar and dangerous heat filling his mind that told him he was on the brink of madness. He sent a message to Carl via Arawn.

I told you to look after Jean! Why have you brought her here?

A bolt of crimson fire launched down from the sky to strike the Shield-Sphere a hand's breadth above his skull! He looked skywards to glimpse Arkori's shadow form slipping back through another warp in the air above him. Where was Arawn? Adem leapt through another Portal-Spell to land further north. He knew he couldn't outrun his friends if they kept leaping through Portal-Magic of their own, but he hoped to keep them away from this battle. Boli-Kuldr grunts sounded from the north, south, east and west; he gazed in a circle to see hundreds of the demons marching forwards through the snow to form a barrier around him. They were pushed forwards by four Souljhin on dark mounts—

Adem suddenly felt what he pictured as a claw of blue fire, reaching in through his back, and clutching his heart! Then he seemed to see a foreign entity stepping in through his back: into his own flesh! He suddenly felt very different; icy coldness filled him, and he felt suddenly invaded, violated, as if a heartless enemy had somehow stepped into his very soul!

Panic struck him, as he thought of Jean's warning, yet he knew he was too late! He was too far gone to resist the demon that tried to possess him! He fell to his knees, clutching his skull as he tried to fight off the spirit, though he felt it make his body its new home: hooking into his innards, with hundreds of tiny invisible claws; forcing Adem's soul into an empty space. He screamed, wailed in despair as he realised he was being led into a trap all along!

He thought he had been luring a Hex-Warlord into his trap, but the High-Servant was set as the bait! Pain seared his brain, those tiny claws now burning into his flesh and skull. He heard a deep callous voice in his mind. Give in, Dragon Son! You are helpless to resist me!

Adem stood again, though he was no longer called by that name. He was Kahndo. He looked at the dark armoured Boli-Kuldr with bull and ram skulls that stood around him in a wide circle. Kahndo raised a fist, a bolt of lightning leapt from his arm into the heavens as thunder roared overhead. The Boli-Kuldr began to bow; getting down on one knee as they sounded out a low guttural chant of worship. Adem heard the messages battering him from his friends, but Kahndo cut them off, pushing Adem back into a dark abyss. Kahndo smiled as Balor, Llew and Arawn returned to him, his three pets circling the sky above him. Adem heard Shienden roar in outrage and fear. Kahndo gave an order to his Battle Angels.

Kill the Sons of Odin, and the Daughter of Thor!

***

Carl moved across the snow-covered fields, using his own unique teleport technique he'd learnt before discovering the Heart of Odin. It required less ki'mera than Portal-Magic, and also less teron to use the ability, which meant he could avoid most of the corruption on Angel-Magic. He shifted ten feet in a single step, then twenty feet, or a hundred if he wished, each time unleashing bars of pure crimson Fire-Magic to turn Boli-Kuldr hordes to vapour. There were hundreds of the beasts in this area, close to where he sensed Adem, obviously his friend had willingly walked into a trap, for reasons Carl did not yet understand.

Two hundred dark armoured Boli-Kuldr formed a wedge before him. He could have shifted past them easily, but that would leave them on the loose to threaten Jean or Wil to the east and west of his location. They were both a little further south, as Carl was pushing up the centre of the fields in pursuit of Adem, hoping to reach him in time. But something had already changed in Adem, he felt it acutely, and he knew Jean and Wil felt it also, as he sensed their dread. Adem was not only blocking them, he seemed lost to them completely. Carl was filled with terror at the thought that Adem may already be the victim of a possession demon.

Carl shouted, 'Math Mathonwy!' Twelve Shadow Hounds charged out of thin air before him to race towards the front lines of demons, as Math Mathonwy appeared amongst the Hounds with his cape of blood red fire flaring behind him. The Battle Angel struck the front of the demon wedge with his Hellfire Spear, swiping through armour and severing skulls in a dark spray. Carl shouted, 'Angus!' His other Battle Angel appeared beside Math, the two figures over eight feet tall, Angus swinging his staff of emerald light to knock demons flying in blasts of green flames.

Carl shifted forwards, landing between the two Battle Angels, in the thick of the demon wedge. Carl formed a spell known as the Twin Sabres. Two beams of pure blue flame blasted outwards, in front and behind his position, the Fire-Magic enhanced by the two Battle Angels as they added crimson and emerald flames to the attack. The bars of light were a pace thick, aimed sideways through the demon ranks and stretching off into the distance for over forty paces. Carl swivelled his spear left and right while the bars of flame were extended across that distance—turning Boli-Kuldr armour to melted slag; flesh to congealed char and bones to smoking ashes—as hundreds of demon bodies were torn, ripped apart or exploded in a matter of seconds.

That attack drained a valuable portion of Carl's stored ki'mera, as well as that of his Battle Angels. But Carl did not come here to mess around. If enemies got in his way while he tried to save Adem, they would be wiped out by whatever means possible. He shifted again, twenty feet to the north, as his Battle Angels returned to his spear. He shifted again, forty feet northeast, pursuing Adem, but also hunting Boli-Kuldr along the way. He began to notice dark shapes other than trees in his surroundings, and realised they were stone ruins of an ancient kingdom ruled by immortals that had merged with the Torvellen in a later age. Math confirmed that they were known as the Denvahnen, similar to Dremelden in Wood Lore but more like Torvellen in skin tone and features. Finding such ruins was common wherever you travelled in Kismeria, but he was also certain he had glimpsed a human form, carved of pale light, wielding a bow, standing on a large flat slab of stone ruins. The ghostly figure was similar to a Hero of Will, though not so colourful or defined. Had someone brought the Harp of Odin to this battle? He shifted to the top of the stone slab and found nothing but the snow-covered ground and the cold night air. Carl put the thought aside, shifting fifty paces northeast, his spear blazing like red lightning in the darkness.

***

Jean moved across the thick blankets of snow with caution, but also with haste. To her right, four Ael Tarael guarded her flank, with Lydia and Elmira to her left, the two women guarded by their husbands wielding those swords of golden and emerald fire. Flames leapt from the fingers of the women on both sides, and occasionally bolts of blue lightning from Lydia and Elmira, burning through the dark scaled armour of bull or ram skulled Boli-Kuldr patrolling the fields. The demons moved northwards in groups of anywhere between fifteen and fifty, the beasts charging for them from every direction as Jean attempted to contact Adem via Tanriel. Wil and Carl's Battle Angels agreed Adem had already been taken over by a possession demon. Jean faced that fact with grim determination to save him from that doom. However, Tanriel warned Jean that Arawn, Balor and Llew were now also under the control of the demon. That could make things very difficult to get anywhere near Adem without being burned to cinders.

Bars of liquid flame launched from the hands of the women to her right, crimson, golden, aqua and emerald light that tore through waves of demon bodies, armour and flesh falling in slices. To her left, Lydia and Elmira unleashed Pixie Wardens—palm sized blue winged fire sprites that soared towards a demon and punched through their breastplates like lasers! The hordes were getting larger, sometimes up to a hundred or more demons appearing over the rises to the east and west, as well as more charging up from the south.

When the southern lines were a hundred paces away Jean breathed the name; 'Tanriel.' Crimson spears flew towards the demons, landing blade down in the snow as golden-orange flames erupted in massive sheets to blast through the demon ranks. The beasts cried in savage tongues as flesh melted off their bones. Tanriel hovered ten feet above Jean and some distance in front of her entourage, the blue winged Battle Angel throwing Flame Spears east and west; waves of flame tearing through armour and flesh: hundreds of demon bodies were reduced to vapour. 'Adem is possessed!' Jean shouted to her companions. 'Carl will try to reach him while we attack the demons that are surrounding Adem! Be warned, Adem's Battle Angels will try to kill any of you on sight!'

She formed a Portal-Spell and the four Ael Tarael leapt through moments after Tobin and Orion. Jean followed next—after Tanriel returned to her Resting Point—with Lydia and Elmira protecting her rear. They landed several miles further north; southeast of Adem's location. Carl was further north and to the west of Jean's position. Guttural cries filled the night air, flames lit up the shadows on both sides as the women launched into another attack. Her other concern was Tanriel's certainty that a High-Servant was also within Adem's vicinity. Jean was also concerned about the possibility of more Demonwolves being on the hunt for them this far west. It would take days for the Borderland pack to reach their current location, but if there were more nearby, Carl would have to exorcise Adem's demon before the real danger arrived.

You have to fight, Adem! We're coming to rescue you! I still love you!

***

Jeimella Corsarvin lowered the brass encased spyglass—drawing her fox-fur lined silk cloak tightly about her form after passing the looking device to her First Captain, Lord Fien Marghotha. Fien was a sharp eyed Torvellen, aged and weathered with white tinges to his dark moustache and beard, a strong angular jaw and a hooked nose like the beak of a hawk. The man raised the spyglass to his right eye and grunted his comprehension of what Jeimella had already surmised. 'That is the Highlander boy's Battle Angels,' Fien agreed in his rasping tone, he was old even for an immortal general. He was also among those few men known as great captains. 'It appears that he is trapped, and his Battle Angels are unable to fight. Either that or ...'

Jeimella was sure her First Captain did not wish to speak of the other possibility; that Adem Highlander had joined forces with Jinn-Fendinn!

Jeimella was young for a potential Torvellen Queen, though her House Corsarvin—forever known for great fortune and great charity—had chosen her as the most suitable to lead an army to claim that title, and behind her rode forty thousand Torvellen soldiers, mercenaries, farmer warriors and hired swords. They were a loyal force, but she knew she would need more than loyalty to win the throne of Tarvel, and to rule all of Torvis without opposition. The Sons of Odin and the Daughter of Thor could lend her great influence in those aims, but what if Adem Highlander truly had become evil? 'To rescue him would result in great rewards from the White Snow Fox,' Fien suggested, leaving the conclusion of his thoughts unmentioned.

'Such an attempt could also result in my entire forces being wiped out in one night!' Jeimella replied vehemently. She had never been considered good looking by immortal standards, more handsome with her mother's dark eyes and raven black hair and her father's hooked nose, tanned skin and chiselled cheek bones. She wore a shining navy breastplate of lacquered steel, a sky-blue coat with the Silver Hand and Gold Coin sigil of House Corsarvin embroidered on the sleeves, a dark green-embroidered blue skirt divided for riding and red leather boots that went up past her knees. The skirts almost reached her ankles for modesty of course, but tall boots were preferred if she was ever expected to get down off her mount and trudge through this snow. 'Get your men in position to charge those rear lines of Boli-Kuldr on this eastern wedge,' Jeimella instructed her First Captain. She knew her army really only had loyalty for Fien Marghotha, but they would follow her and win her every battle so long as Fien gave the commands. Fien pressed a dark green gauntlet to his ebony-and-golden breastplate, then reached for his golden hawk winged helmet from the pommel of his saddle before adding his expert opinion that archers would be of better use to harry the enemy into breaking formation before attempting a charge. Jeimella fought down her irritation at the man's ability to judge a situation with greater precision than all her years of training in battle strategies. 'You have full command,' she said with absolute confidence in his ability. 'I want the best outcome for all of us, mind. If we can spare lives, do it. If we must make sacrifices to save Adem Highlander, I leave it up to your better judgement.'

They had tracked the Boli-Kuldr hordes for three days leading up to this event, after the guards at the Travelling Gate northeast of Tarvel had been defeated by a vast swarm of demons that emerged from the now dark doorways. It was the first proof that the Gates could now be used as portals for demons, a new ability of the High-Servants. Only one rider had made it away alive to report of the situation, and when Jeimella's forces had reached the Gate they had found only slain soldiers—some of them half eaten, raw!—and hundreds of pairs of hoof prints heading southwest towards Tarvel. As they followed the tracks, they discovered the demons were walking single file to hide their numbers; that they now estimated to be in the many thousands.

At Fien's command two thousand archers moved into position after dismounting. The lightning wielded by Highlander reflected off the dark arrow shafts as they launched into the sky, falling upon the demon army to feather Boli-Kuldr shoulders and skulls as if they were giant pincushions. The demons had been down on their knees, facing Highlander and chanting in their guttural tongue. The attack caught them by surprise, horns were sounded as the creatures began to holler and growl, turning to face Jeimella's forces as confusion ran through their ranks.

Suddenly Highlander struck back; hundreds of blue bolts fell from a cloudless sky to hammer into Jeimella's line of archers! Thunder roared through the air like the call of a legion of giant lions! Her men screamed as flesh was torn from their bones! She gasped in horror at the betrayal of a Son of Odin! 'He's completely mad!' she screamed to her First Captain. 'Sound the retreat!' But as the horns sounded and the army began to turn to attempt escape from the terrible onslaught, the sounds of battle began on the eastern edge of the army, and riders soon arrived to report that thousands more Boli-Kuldr were blocking their escape! Suddenly Jeimella began to see that she had been walking into this deadly trap since she first heard word of the demon invasion. She wondered if one of her adversaries had cooked this up to take her out of the race for the throne. If that were true, it would mean the rumours were true; that one of the nobles in line for the throne was in fact a Shadowsouled!

The screams of her dying men filled her ears to the east, along with the sounds of clashing steel and the thunder of hooves. 'Do something!' she shouted at her First Captain, but Fien was still looking daunted over the attack by Highlander. A moment later his eyes returned to focus. It was as if her desperate scream had penetrated his bewilderment, and now he just looked furious! He was a general once more, shouting commands, rallying his captains and lieutenants, preparing to defend his ground. He could win this battle for her too. She believed that. He was one of the great captains!

Jeimella also decided then and there, that if Fien was able to turn this scene of terror into a victory, she would bed him and then convince the man to marry her. She would give him strong sons and wise daughters. That would be a battle in itself to convince the man to forget his long-lost wife, who died after falling from her horse when Fien was a young man. Immortals seldom wished for another woman after loving one as their bride. But she had seen the sideways glances he often gave her when other noblemen tried to proposition her, and she would convince him of her need if he proved himself here and now. 'Do not let them harm the Highlander boy!' she cried. 'He is our last hope!' Fien muttered a curse under his breath at that command, but she knew he would understand that it was plain truth. Everything depended on bringing Adem Highlander back to the side of the All-Father.

She heard Fien's orders shouted to his captains, they would make a charge south to try to reach a defensible position within the ruins of Kohoraikhan, an ancient Denvahnen fortress. 'Good,' she breathed with relief, 'you are quick to make plans when the pressure is on, First Captain.' She tilted her head in a short bow to offer him honour for his courage and clarity of mind. She also decided she would need to acquire some Ael Tarael as soon as they made it out of this mess! An army of swords was almost useless against a wielder and his Battle Angels. And mad Alit'aren were becoming as common as weasels down rabbit holes these days!

Chapter 13

The Shadow's Grip

Carl shifted to a position where he had a raised perspective of Adem and the hordes of Boli-Kuldr that surrounded him in a large circle. Some of the beasts were chanting and apparently worshipping Adem, which confirmed to Carl that his friend was in fact possessed! Other Boli-Kuldr were forming wedges and starting to head south, basically in the direction back towards those Denvahnen ruins. He'd also seen a large Torvellen army fleeing the Boli-Kuldr on horseback, apparently none of them Ael Tarael as they were being beaten down by the demons before they started to move south. Some of the riders had remained to protect the escape of the bulk of the force, and Carl was inclined to lend a hand before they were wiped out by the hordes that were now crushing them from both sides. He decided instead that he would need to use this distraction to try to reach Adem, however. But before he made his move, he sensed for Wil's location to the southwest, and he used Portal-Magic to shift there, over three miles in a single step.

Wil stood with Elarja to his right and Arig to his left. Hayley had been left at Orodhel with Terese and her Vampire Guard. The main reason for this was so that a suitable watch could remain to take care of Isabelle in case the High-Servants were looking for just such opportunities to strike. Arig had his crimson Lukrorian Bow raised; a dozen fire arrows cutting down Boli-Kuldr that were approaching from the west of their location. The demons fell with fatal wounds gaping through their black armour as Carl said to Wil, 'I'll need Elarja's help for this to work. You and Arig approach Adem after me and use your Battle Angels to hold off Arawn, Llew and Balor. I'll allow Math and Angus to help in a Link, and Elarja and I will try to get close enough to Adem to force that demon out of him!' Wil nodded, raising his Lukrorian Bow as he took down seven Boli-Kuldr to the northwest with golden bolts of flame.

Carl made another portal and Elarja leapt through first. Carl gripped his spear and stepped through the doorway in space to land on the same rise overlooking Adem and the demons. Carl quickly explained what he would need Elarja to do while Carl tried to get close to Adem. The emerald-eyed immortal nodded his agreement, though he also looked more than troubled over the plan. 'It's the only way!' Carl insisted; then he placed a hand on Elarja's shoulder and shifted them both to land inside the circle of Boli-Kuldr.

When Adem saw them, he looked enraged, a fierce burning of contempt in his eyes that appeared now almost completely black! Adem wore a blue coat and boots with dark trousers, and he wore a disguise that made him appear as a Torvellen immortal. But it was him, Carl could sense it. Carl thought it would have disheartened him more to see the real Adem in this state of mind control, and he was glad for the disguise for that reason.

In a bolt of colour and light, Balor, Llew and Arawn appeared in the sky above Adem, and at that moment Carl summoned Angus and Math Mathonwy, shouting their names as his own two Battle Angels launched into the sky to take on Balor and Arawn. Llew was left unopposed, but Carl had already sent a message to Wil, and a second later the massive forms of Bran and Dis Pater appeared in front of Llew on blue and golden wings, crossing blades with Adem's Battle Angel as sparks of lightning blasted from their weapons and thunder tore the air around them!

The opposing Battle Angels formed Links between their own groups, and lightning began to fall from a cloudless sky, hundreds of bolts burning emerald, aqua, crimson and gold. Thunder roared through the heavens, and two opposing vortexes of dark grey clouds began to form above the Battle Angels. Carl turned to shout to Elarja, 'Do it now!' Elarja was already holding the enchanted Time Stones in his right fist, and light of many colours burst from his hand to spread outwards in a massive sphere, encompassing Adem, Carl and Elarja, and the Battle Angels above. In that same instant, Adem raised both hands palm facing out towards Carl, and twin bolts of lightning launched towards Carl and Elarja as Carl quickly brought up a Shield-Sphere. The bolts moved slower than they should have, slowed by the time sphere Elarja had created, though Carl would've been ready with a Shield-Spell despite this advantage. Carl and Elarja moved faster than Adem, and Carl's and Wil's Battle Angels were also gifted this extra speed. Carl looked skywards to see that Balor, Llew and Arawn moved sluggishly in their blade forms, while Bran, Dis Pater, Angus and Math Mathonwy had obvious speed advantage over them as they swung damaging strikes against their opponents.

Adem threw more bolts of lightning at Carl and Elarja, but Carl could shift locations to one side and closer to Adem; faster than the time it took for the lightning to reach the point where he'd been standing. He saw recognition of this on Adem's Torvellen face, the dark eyes burning with corruption and hatred as he threw more lightning at each point Carl landed; each time moving closer to Adem's position. When he was standing a few feet away from Adem and facing him, he leapt across the distance to place his hands on Adem's skull, using his speed advantage to force powerful Healing-Magic into his mind.

A slow blast of light flared around Adem's form, moving outwards to force Carl flying backwards through the air. Despite this attack, Carl flew back fast enough to avoid the strike, forming another Shield-Sphere to protect himself and Elarja before the light reached them. In this moment Adem formed a Portal-Spell and leapt through it, his Battle Angels following after with greater speed as the time sphere began to wear off.

That Healing-Magic should've given Adem a chance at fighting back against the demon that possessed him. Carl summoned Math and Angus back to their Resting Points as the lightning ceased to fall and the two vortex clouds bulged then vanished in a blast of lightning and thunder.

Wil was at his side moments after, wielding his golden bow and firing upon the surrounding Boli-Kuldr with fierce determination. Arig provided backup with crimson arrows of flame. There was no need to fight their way out of course, as both Carl and Wil sensed for Adem's new location, and Carl made a Portal-Spell that Elarja and Arig leapt through with Wil and Carl following moments after. Carl alerted Jean of their position; another raised vantage point close to the western side of the Denvahnen fortress. The Torvellen army had mobilised inside the stone defences and were fighting hard to keep the Boli-Kuldr hordes from penetrating the ruins. The stone walls were mostly under chest height; the warriors on foot as they pushed back demons with flamespears and shockpikes, firing volleys of arrows and crossbow bolts at the waves that surged forward.

Carl saw Adem standing amongst the approaching demon hordes, raising a fist as blue lightning rained down upon the Torvellen warriors, frying them in a neon blaze. Terrified screams filled the air as the men saw that it was Adem Highlander who assaulted them, as Adem had now removed his disguise to allow them to see his face. Carl wondered how Adem could continue to lead these people once the word spread of this event. It was a heartbreaking betrayal! With teron in his veins, Carl could see the despair in the eyes of those warriors vividly, despite their distance. Carl knew something was very wrong. This possession demon must be strong to still dominate over Adem's will. It also suggested these spirits could still invade or control a body when the mind was returning to clarity. Carl said another prayer, this time asking God to fill Adem's heart with pain and also with light, so that he could remember what he'd always been fighting for. It seemed to be the only chance he had left. All Carl could do now was to lend some support to these unfortunate souls caught in the crossfire.

***

Jean watched in horror as Adem continued to assault the Torvellen forces with lightning and fire. This was a nightmare come to life, but it was also a memory of her experience in the Chameleon Arch that had become a reality. She knew this battle, she'd seen it in one of her visions of a possible future, when Adem was so mad he lost control of himself and turned against the very people who fought to protect him. She used Tanriel to batter him with messages, urging him to fight and dominate over this wretched demon that had stolen his body. She sent waves of her emotions to him also, letting him feel how much she still truly loved him, that she needed him desperately and could not believe what she was seeing! You have to fight, Adem! Why did you go off on your own? Fight him, Adem! Make him see that you are the stronger one!

But she knew it was futile. Adem was gone. She could not feel his emotions; she couldn't even perceive that this man she saw with his face was actually him!

We have no time for this, Adem! We must return you to Orodhel! Isabelle is in great danger! Your soon to be born child is in danger! Listen to me!

The thought that troubled her most was the memory of how this battle had ended. It was one of those future lives where she had decided the only way to do what was right, was to get close enough to Adem to plant a dagger in his heart! Of course, in the Chameleon Arch she didn't have all the background details, like Isabelle, and the Demonwolves, and the possession demon. But she had been here before, she had seen this all in her mind, in her memory. It was these memories that gave her nerves of steel and made her heart ache every time she looked at Adem's face.

Adem's Battle Angels appeared again and were immediately unleashing bolts of fire upon the Torvellen forces, cruel menacing attacks like shooting ducks in a barrel. She would have to put a stop to this one way or another! She shouted, 'Tanriel and Anwen!' as her Battle Angels took to the skies to fight with Adem's own. Angus and Dis Pater lent support moments after while Math Mathonwy and Bran threw down bolts of crimson and aqua fire at the Boli-Kuldr hordes that ruptured into blasts of destructive force. It was still a disaster! How could Adem be so blind as to let this prophecy come to fruition? She shuddered at the thought that she may have to find the courage to end this prophecy, and if she did, they were all surely doomed. She turned to one of the Ael Tarael guarding her right flank. 'Give me your dagger,' she said to the dark-haired mortal woman. 'I have a plan.'

***

Fien Marghotha shouted commands to his lieutenants guarding this side of the wall. Boli-Kuldr were pushing forwards in swarms wherever the defences were weakest, and he needed to move amongst his men to rally them with the courage to fight! Jeimella was deeper in the higher defences with a large guard of defenders, and she would take command if he fell in this battle. He would've preferred to stay by her side, but he was certain this was a battle he could not win unless he played a greater part in it.

A Souljhin charged for the wall on a dark steed; the cloaked figure leaping on to and then over the wall to swing its tainted crimson blade wildly amongst his soldiers. Men cried as they fell with the fatal wounds that would corrupt them in hours at the most, there was no way to save even one of them. Men surrounded the Souljhin; pushing at its dark armour with flamespears while Agnars moved within the circle to surround the figure. Two experienced warriors were suddenly forcing the creature back towards the wall as they crossed blades and moved through sword forms with immortal speed.

Fien was already pushing through the crowds to reach the demon-man. Two flamespears punched through the back of the Souljhin's cloak and armour as the swordsmen raised their blades vertically and a flurry of crossbow bolts thudded into the creature's chest and face. Blinded now, the Souljhin still swung the sword as it somehow found its way back onto the wall and was attempting to summon its horse when Fien stepped onto the wall beside it. His blade glinted in the moonlight as it cleaved the Souljhin's head from its neck! Fien had been lucky that the creature was blind and also distracted by the spears that had been pushing towards it from below the wall. He'd managed to strike when the Souljhin's back was turned. There was no cowardice in killing one in that way. Fien was too old to face one—even one so disabled as this one was—in a fair sword fight. His men cheered as the shadow cloaked figure fell from the wall beside its mount. The dark steed regarded Fien with an eye like hot coal then bolted back towards the demon army. The demon skull had fallen on the other side of the wall, and a soldier booted it with a scowl as Fien gazed at dozens of men fallen from the tainted blade. "Defend this wall!" Fien roared at his men, and dozens more moved forward to close the gap as Boli-Kuldr began to try to climb up and over. Fien jumped back towards his men just in time to avoid being skewered by a large demon spear.

***

Carl, Wil, Arig and Elarja leapt through a Portal-Spell to land behind the stone defences used by the Torvellen warriors. Carl soon found their leader, a hawk-faced immortal named Fien Marghotha. The man stood almost a head height taller than Carl and Wil, though his expression showed that he held the Sons of Odin in high regard despite Adem's condition.

After a quick explanation to Fien of Adem's possession demon, the dark-eyed general led them to a raised fortification where they could oversee the battle and unleash Angel-Magic from a higher vantage point. Carl didn't waste much time, lending his support by throwing bars of crimson fire at the Boli-Kuldr trying to scale the low walls where soldiers fought desperately to keep them out. Carl struck beyond those walls of course, not aiming for the demons trying to climb the stone ruins, but instead sending fire that erupted into golden-orange explosions on impact. Wil and Arig used their bows to release streams of flaming arrows, golden and crimson shafts knocking Boli-Kuldr from the walls as the Torvellen warriors pushed with their shockpikes and flamespears.

The conflict continued in the air above them with the two opposing forces of Battle Angels striking at one another with their massive glowing weapons. Carl sensed that Math and Angus were beginning to tire, and he hoped they would last as long as it took for Adem's Battle Angels to return to their Resting Point. Both sides of the Battle Angel combatants had formed Links; lightning bolts falling like rain as thunder roared through the sky above. They were managing to keep Adem's Battle Angels from attacking more soldiers for now, which was the best they could hope for given the circumstances. Carl noticed a slight grin on Fien's visage when he caught a glance of the general standing to one side and watching the battle turn in his favour. The man's eyes showed no hint of any humour however, they appeared to be burning with rage.

They were only there to lend their support for a few minutes; then Carl left Wil in charge with Arig for backup as he grasped Elarja by the shoulder and shifted back to the hill where Jean waited with her entourage. They grouped together, and Carl formed another Portal-Spell, Orion and Tobin leaping through first, followed quickly by the four Ael Tarael who served as Jean's guard. Jean, Carl and Elarja were next with Lydia and Elmira following last to land in the circle where Adem stood alone surrounded by demons.

Orion and Tobin were already under assault by a number of Boli-Kuldr that had charged in from the surrounding circle, and Elarja quickly raised his fist to create another time slow sphere within that area. The coloured lightning bolts seemed to bend in the air around the translucent sphere of liquid-flame that expanded far enough to encompass the Battle Angels above also. Tobin and Orion moved like wraiths amongst the Boli-Kuldr as the two Agnars moved through the sword forms; Corn Harvest flowing into Storm Blade changing into Grey Ram Charges, Ice Spears into Bear Claw, they took down three more before the first reached the ground; dark blood spraying in slow motion. Lydia and Elmira began throwing bolts of blue flame that took down seven demons a second, as the other four Ael Tarael began throwing bars of flame at the eastern side of the circle while the Boli-Kuldr began to advance.

Shield-Spells went up as Adem began throwing bolts of lightning at his friends, Carl and Jean stood together with Elarja, and then Carl clutched both by the shoulders, shifting closer to Adem while avoiding his attacks due to their speed advantage. Carl prayed this time the plan worked, because Jean had a backup plan that would spell disaster for them all if it came down to that!

***

When they were within hand's reach of Adem, Jean reached out to clutch his skull in her hands, wielding terael into his flesh in a desperate attempt at Healing-Magic. Adem's dark-eyed possession demon appeared enraged by the tactic; his slowed response encased Jean in blue flames moments later as Carl used all his strength to maintain strong enough Shield-Spells to withstand the heat. He'd formed a link with Lydia and Elmira before shifting here to ensure he was strong enough to keep Jean unharmed, creating the Shield-Sphere just large enough to protect himself, Jean and Elarja within a small area as blue fire roared on all sides. He used the rest of his strength to hold Adem's arms locked at his sides in a Shield-Trap that restricted him from moving, but Carl could not maintain this and keep Adem blocked from teron at the same time. Carl was strong with Shield-Spells but forming two of this kind—one to hold Adem and one to protect themselves from his fire—was the best they could achieve given the circumstances. Her plan allowed for this.

She could still see Adem's face through the fire, and she kept her left hand on his face to continue to wield her Healing-Spell, though she'd done most of what she was capable of there. Her other hand reached for the dagger behind her belt, it was a hand's length in the flat double-edged blade with a red leather-wrapped hilt. It would put an end to him in short order if plunged directly through his heart, and if she didn't see the old Adem in those eyes soon, she would have to do it! She looked at him pleadingly, as she began to shout to him, using her own voice rather than via Tanriel to his mind. 'Listen to me, Adem, you must fight, and now! I love you, Adem! I loved you the moment I first saw you! I could never live without you, but if you don't snap out of it this instant—' she saw a flicker of recognition in those eyes, returning to blue with desperate dark centres instead of orbs of dark fire. 'Yes, Adem, it's me, it's Jean! My darling, you must fight! I know you're in there! Tell that demon freak he has to go!' The darkness returned to those eyes, and Jean wailed in despair at the thought that time was running out. Through the fire she saw the glowing gold light of four Golden Soldiers rising with cannons aimed right at her and her companions! She gripped the dagger while still clutching it hidden behind her back, when she tried one last thing. She created a Shield-Spell around her own face and Adem's as she leaned forward and kissed him! It was not just a kiss, it was all of her love, her every feeling of love she'd ever had for him expressed through her lips onto his flesh and spirit. If this doesn't fix him, he will deserve to die!

***

Adem saw a light at the top of the dark void that had sucked him into its depths. He felt warmth again, a light in his heart, pain too, but the light was incredible! He realised it had been there with him the entire time he'd been lost in that darkness, but he hadn't realised it was there until he heard Jean's voice, and he shouted the words, 'Eicc'arendiel Alfodr!' In the ancient Nordic Tongue, it meant, 'Wings of Odin!' Blue fire blazed on either side of his form as he soared upwards through the darkness towards the sound of Jean's voice. He breached the light, and then he saw Jean standing before him! She was bathed in blue fire, and he realised he'd been the one to attack her with it! He tried to stop the spell, but a moment later that claw of blue fire clutched his heart once again, and he was ripped back down into the darkness! He fell, into an endless pit of despair, knowing he'd be the one who murdered the love of his life! Jinn-Fendinn's massive black ram skull stared up with eyes like hot coals as a great black claw reached for him in the darkness. Then something changed again, he felt Jean's love enter his heart, it was so amazing, and it filled him with so much joy the Wings of Odin burst aflame once more. He soared up into the light again, pursued by Fendinn as Adem threw down twin Blades of Odin. The Jinn-Lord roared as he fell back into pits of darkness, and Adem continued to fly higher, until he was bathed in light.

Jean was kissing him! She was placing so much emotion into that kiss that he found that he had the will to overpower the demon that controlled his body. That claw of ice clutched his heart again, but Adem's heart replied with an explosion of brilliant bright light! The claw recoiled, as if in terror and revulsion. He felt the spirit exiting his body as that light burst through his entire form. It was electrifying! It was Jean's love for him, and his love for her. She had saved him!

As the blue flames vanished from around her form, he saw Carl and Elarja standing behind her. Then he saw the battle unfolding around him, the sky alight with coloured bolts moving slower than normal time. The four Golden Soldiers turned about face, releasing crimson lasers to cut through demon armour and flesh in dark sprays and cries of terror. Adem gave a command to his Battle Angels, and Arawn, Llew and Balor began to unleash waves of Fire-Magic from their massive glowing weapons, Fire Lions, and Spirit Wolves appearing to tear through the demon ranks. Lions and Wolves pushed Boli-Kuldr down to shred through armour and rip bull and ram skulls free in spurts of dark blood, the demons caught by surprise and wailing in terror as their front lines fell in waves. Those attacks were also slower than normal time, as he realised Elarja had been using the time sphere to delay them.

He looked to Jean's face and saw elation mixed with her absolute terror. He looked down to see her clutching a small flat bladed dagger aimed directly at his heart! His mind reeled in recognition, and her saw her agony over having to make that decision. 'I'm alright, Jean. It's me. We can clean up this mess and then go save Isabelle.' That brought a flicker to her brow as he corrected himself, saying, 'I mean, save Orodhel.'

Even now there was still jealousy in her over his betrayal. She smiled, as Boli-Kuldr charged forwards all around them in slow motion—dropping the knife as she hugged him closely. 'I wasn't going to do it, Adem. I could never do that. I love you so much.' Adem knew she was lying of course. She would've done it to protect the people for a little while longer, no matter the consequences for the long term. 'You have a very big heart, Jean. You would've done what you thought was best.' She clutched him tighter as she began to shiver. Suddenly Carl was pulling them out of their embrace as he pointed to the danger all around them. Every Battle Angel was using their Power to strike down the demons in the surrounding circle—including Tanriel throwing down Flame Spears that burst into sheets of orange fire—but there was a vast swarm of demons, and Orion, Tobin, Lydia, Elmira and the Ael Tarael were all still fighting desperately to keep them from being hacked to pieces.

A Portal-Spell appeared, made by Carl, as his friend shouted, 'You two first! We'll catch up soon!' Adem stepped through the shining rectangle of light with his arm around Jean's waist, the time sphere starting to dissipate around them as the Boli-Kuldr began to move faster in their approach. When they stepped through—followed by Adem's and Jean's Battle Angels in flares of colour—Adem was surprised to find himself on the walkways of the outer walls of Orodhel.

He looked back to see Shienden fly through and perch on the edge of the wall. The dragon seemed to startle Jean as if she had not expected him to be so big. A moment later the Portal-Magic vanished! His heart sank; knowing his friends were risking themselves to see him returned to safety. Then he heard the wolf cries that sent shivers through his bones, and when he looked to the moonlit fields to see massive dark wolves with burning red eyes—that radiated pure evil in waves!—he realised they'd sent him to take care of the real problem. He looked to Jean who was in tears; she was frantic but also seemingly overjoyed at his recovery. Adem asked her while trying to remain calm, 'Just how many of them are out there?'

Chapter 14

An Ancient Evil

Kruxlorin Skeltz hovered within the shadows behind one of his massive pets. Demonwolves were an ancient evil, and Kruxlorin was their master. In the darkness, he would not be perceivable even to the eyes of immortals unless he wanted to be seen, and he waited now, for the right time to reveal himself to this new hero of the Age of Chaos. Kruxlorin had been here for some time already, enough time to consult with the High-Jinn at his new Resting Point at Kerak'Otozi. The High-Jinn had given him precise instructions; lure the boy Highlander out onto the fields, and strike when his back was turned, and his attention taken by the Demonwolves.

His orders were to try to capture Highlander, to take him to Kerak'Otozi to turn him fully to the command of the High-Jinn. If Kruxlorin was unable to achieve this aim, his orders were to exterminate this pest that had continued to disrupt the plotting of the Jinn-Lord. Like the High-Servants of this Age, Kruxlorin would appear human in form wearing a cloak that blended with the darkness, only his skull was more shaped like that of a Boli-Kuldr, with long red bison horns and flesh like black scales. He was taller than any High-Servant also, nearly as tall as the Great Angels in this Age, standing over seven feet and wielding a dark blade that glowed wicked crimson. The sword would turn human flesh to corrosive vapour in a matter of minutes from the slightest cut, though Kruxlorin had many more imaginative ways to put an end to the leader of the Sons of Odin. His Demonwolves began to bay at the moon, radiating their evil presence that must have been more than intimidating to those immortal soldiers that watched from the walkways of the outer walls. Their arrows and crossbow bolts would be futile against his pets. Still, he waited, for the heroic Adem Highlander to meet him on the battlefield.

***

Adem waited for his friends to return before making any attempt to face those massive dark wolves that patrolled the night. They were terrible to behold, more frightening than the largest werewolves he'd faced at Morgrahl Kordahn. He'd decided he would try to take each one out using the emulated version of the Spear of Odin. This was a guess as to whether it would have the desired effect. The other problem was using the Spear that many times would drain his precious ki'mera reserves to a point where his Battle Angels would soon be useless without sufficient time to rest and recover. That was the main reason he needed Carl and Wil on his side, their Battle Angels would be needed to help distract the other Demonwolves while Adem chose his target. Elarja's time slow technique would also be vital to their hopes of survival.

He'd considered taking shots at the beasts from this vantage point on the wall, but there was too much distance between himself and his targets. It was likely they would be able to dodge attacks from this range, and they also had the ability to blend with the darkness and sometimes vanish from his sight completely.

The other main concern was the question of whether it was just these Demonwolves out there, or whether they had a commander. Arawn admitted they did not have the gift of detecting whether such enemies lurked on the fields, though he urged caution of the possibility. The time rift could have allowed one of the ancient Demon Lords to pass through to modern time. If that were the case, Adem wasn't sure what he could do to stop them.

***

Carl had escaped death by forming a Portal-Spell for himself and his companions to leap through before the Boli-Kuldr closed in on them. Elarja's time sphere had slowed the beasts for the vital seconds it took. The Ael Tarael and Lydia and Elmira had thrown fire and lightning around in neon blasts in those last moments, cutting down scores of demons that got close enough to cause panic.

They were all behind the stone wall defences now, with Fien the great captain and their female leader Jeimella. The woman was quite pretty, with short cut dark hair framing her tan skinned face, despite the petulant pout of her lips and the arrogance with which she kept her nose tilted upwards.

She looked slightly pleased to see Adem leave and was also grateful for the assistance Carl and his team provided. They had a substantial guard around the woman on a raised vantage point behind higher stone walls—

Carl spun to block the swipe of a Souljhin blade! The creature had used its teleport technique, to sneak in through deeper shadows: attacking from the rear. Carl guessed a Boli-Kuldr had snuck behind their defences to plant a Jhin-Tap. Fallen men lay sprawled behind the dark cloaked figure, that had its hood raised, so all Carl could see of its face was those disturbing jet-black eyes. He moved like a phantom through the spear forms, taught to him by his Agnars at Nordhel. River Warden, flowing into Storm Fist Strikes, balancing on one foot as he dodged an overhead swipe, just as Fien was at his side to block the tainted blade with Bull Horn. Changing into Corn Harvest to push the creature back, as Carl aimed his spear; a thin beam of crimson fire struck the Souljhin in the chest. A ball of flame burst from the wound; dark armour glowing like magma. The Souljhin wailed as it began to implode in orange blasts; bursting in a spray of dark blood as Carl and Fien stepped back to avoid the splatter.

Three more Souljhin emerged from the shadows; black blades raised glowing wicked crimson. Dozens of Agnars moved to stand against the three, but they kept their distance. They would die to protect their leader, but no one wanted to be touched by one of those tainted swords. Carl created a Portal-Spell for an escape, shouting to Jeimella and Fien to enter first. 'I will not leave my men here to die!' Fien shouted, as Jeimella said, 'You must bring them all with us!'

'There is no time for that!' Carl shouted; men began to fall as Souljhin long swords hacked a path through armour and flesh. A bolt of light flew to punch through the skull of the first Souljhin; slashing wildly in its death throes. The white shaft was in fact, an arrow! The other two Souljhin were feathered with arrows of silvery light, dozens punching through chests and skulls as they collapsed with heavy thuds. Four figures carved of blue-white light stood to the east; wielding long bows of white fire! 'What miracle is this?' Jeimella asked, as she gazed towards the outer wall defences.

Carl looked there to see hundreds of the ghostly forms along the outer wall; silver arrows flying from their bows like lightning cannons! Boli-Kuldr bodies fell in the thousands! Carl realised this was his chance. 'We'll evacuate them all!' he shouted to Jeimella, 'But you must go first!' He didn't have time to waste arguing with the woman, but he could see she would not budge until her men were safely away. 'My place is here, in Torvis!' she shouted at him. Carl roared his reply, 'You will all die unless you take refuge!' Fien must have seen to reason before her, as he was suddenly picking the woman up and throwing her over his shoulder, she beat at his back and kicked her boots wildly as he carried her through. Carl created another for himself and his companions to land behind the ruins where most of the soldiers still fought.

Retreat horns were sounded as Carl formed a link with Lydia and Elmira to create the largest Portal-Spell he could manage in his drained condition. It was wide enough for fifty or more men to charge though abreast, on horseback! The evacuation was slowed by the confusion and chaos; fortunately, those ghost Archers made it possible for the ranks to retreat in waves.

Carl sent Wil through with the four Ael Tarael; Arig and Elarja remaining, as well as Lydia, Elmira, Tobin and Orion. They formed a defensive circle around his form as they watched the riders pour through the massive Portal-Spell. Soon there were only hundreds left defending the walls. He planted the spear in the stone, calling on deep reserves of Angel-Magic through his link with Lydia and Elmira. The spear glowed as flames licked up along the blade tip. Teron filled him; rivers of ecstasy and light, Jinn-Magic a dark acid corroding his flesh and bones! Along the outer wall flames erupted in massive golden-orange blasts, rupturing through the Boli-Kuldr ranks as demon bodies exploded. The remaining Torvellen began to fight with superhuman speed, blades and spears slashing and stabbing the front-line demons that made it past the fires—

A beam of crimson fire launched down from the skies—a High-Servant hovering twenty feet high—blocked by Shield-Spheres from Elarja, Lydia and Elmira, but the impact sent shockwaves through their inner circle. Carl took the brunt of the force. He fell to his knees, his ears ringing, his body was in agony. He fell forwards; face down on the stone, he breathed the name, 'Math Mathonwy!' Darkness swallowed his vision.

***

Tobin watched as Math Mathonwy launched into the sky, on crimson wings, to hack at the High-Servant with his Hellfire Spear. Lightning sprayed off their clashed blades; thunder roared. Tobin reached down to pick up Carl Wilder and throw him over his shoulder, handing his crimson spear to Orion; racing towards the Portal-Spell on their swift Aelfin feet. They crossed into the courtyard at Orodhel; looking back to see Math Mathonwy following. The Torvellen forces were still charging through the Portal-Magic; Tobin realised the doorway could not be shut unless Carl woke to release the Angel-Magic. Men riding or running on foot while dragging their horses by the reins poured from the doorway of light; followed by the High-Servant, throwing down crimson bars of fire; burning men to cinders!

The bulk of the forces were gathered in front of the Portal-Spell, and now facing the doorway, where Boli-Kuldr arrows began to fly through. The creatures could not travel through Portal-Magic, but those massive arrows and crossbow bolts would do serious damage, with Jeimella's forces pressed around the inside of the outer wall. Fien took command, shouting, 'Archers!' Hundreds of soldiers moved towards the portal and began to fire back through the doorway of light. As many arrows came through as were sent back however, and those hundreds of men were dropping like sacks of grain with shafts through their chests and throats. The High-Servant hammered their ranks with bolts of flame; Math Mathonwy flew to oppose the enemy, lightning and thunder blasting from their blades. They needed to wake Carl Wilder, before these warriors were cut to pieces!

***

The main gate portcullis was raised on Adem's command. The Torvellen riders began to flee out onto the fields, to escape the Boli-Kuldr arrows, and crossbow bolts, flying through that massive Portal-Spell; bull and ram skulled beasts in dark armour, howling and grunting in their savage tongue.

Ael Tarael were sent towards the lower level of the courtyard, twelve women in a link, to create a Shield-Wall to block the Boli-Kuldr arrows, giving Fien's forces time to rush through the narrow gateway. Jeimella remained by Adem's side on the wall, but the great captain, Fien Marghotha, found a horse and charged through the gateway to lead his men in the tactic Adem had briefly explained.

They had other riders assembled in the courtyard, but they were blocked by the Portal-Magic and the Boli-Kuldr arrows facing the portcullis—the riders of Orodhel behind the closed half of the portal—so it would be up to Fien's riders to provide the necessary distractions for Adem's plan to work. Jothar Kelderath was also on the wall, barking orders at his captains and lieutenants who spread out along the walkway sending commands to the defenders—yet if these Demonwolves turned out to be good at scaling sixty feet high stone walls, their efforts to hold them back would most likely be ineffective.

Two expert Healing-Magic Ael Tarael saw to Carl's wounds, though neither had been able to wake him. Adem waited for his company to assemble around him, Arig, Elarja and Wil to his left, Lydia and Elmira with their husbands to his right. Jean would stay on the wall with Terese and Isabelle, as well as Hayley who still carried her baby girl in her arms.

With a gesture from Adem, a Portal-Spell appeared to his far left, Wil, Arig and Elarja leaping through, followed by Adem and the former rulers of Nordhel and Tarvel. They landed on the dark fields not far from Fien's riders, though the horses were luring seven of the Demonwolves away from that location. Adem struck hard and fast, summoning the Spear of Odin, throwing a bar of liquid-blue fire as thick as his forearm: launched from his open palm. The Spear struck the closest, that howled, as blue lightning surged through its shadow flesh.

The rest of the pack split up, snarling and barking in savage tongues, that sounded oddly human. The one he'd struck collapsed, with a bright hole of blue-white fire burning in its chest. A moment later the creature exploded, in a blast of light, as a hollow wail tore the air. Adem breathed a sigh of relief, to know he had a way of destroying these beasts.

Two more charged towards him, on his left and right flanks! Elarja raised his fist, coloured light burst from his hand, as time slowed around them, in an expanding transparent bubble. The Demonwolves slowed in their charge, as Adem used his advantage to wield the Spear! A bar of blue flame striking the one to his right, in the skull; head bursting in a dark spray. The body fell with a heavy thud: the earth shuddered. In these moments, Wil and Arig were firing golden and crimson arrows at the beast charging from their left side—the impact stunned the Wolf enough to push it slightly off course—and Adem used that distraction to create another Portal-Spell, just large enough for them all to leap through together, before the Wolf trampled them, or crushed them in its gaping jaws.

They landed further south, close again to Fien's charging horsemen, who were at this point being attacked from both flanks, by four of the massive Wolves. They bit screaming horses in half: swallowed the rider in one mouthful. Adem saw his moment! Two Spears of Odin launched from each fist! They struck the two Wolves, with their backs turned; gorging on horseflesh and riders. White fire erupted through their flesh. Both became blasts of glittering light: black blood sprayed the riders close by. Two Wolves on the far flank were still causing chaos. Wil shouted, 'Eledisren!' as Adem cried, 'Arawn!'

Dis Pater and Arawn appeared; ten feet tall figures in cloaks of shadows and dark scaled armour. Dis Pater's raw emotion bloodlust! He hacked at one of the Wolves: his massive battle axe glowing golden. Arawn; silver-skull mask and eyes of flame, attacked the other Wolf; massive crimson blade hacking at the creature's neck and legs. The beasts howled and retreated.

Adem formed another Portal-Spell, leaping through with his companions, to land behind Arawn and Dis Pater—Elarja created another time sphere. Adem raised both fists pointed at the beasts. Spears of Odin launched! Dark hides and blood exploding: burning white skeletons collapsed.

***

Jean summoned Tanriel just before a Shield-Sphere formed around herself, Hayley, Isabelle and Terese. Tanriel had formed the Shield-Magic, as that High-Servant had thrown a bar of red flame at their backs.

She spun to face the masked Hex-Warlord, as did her companions, just as Tanriel hovered behind him; her Flame Spear struck a Shield-Spell and punched halfway through. Golden-orange flame burst around the spear, outside and inside the Shield-Magic. The High-Servant roared before vanishing in a warp of Air-Magic. Jean turned back to the fields; she was certain that one would not return any time soon.

Carl and the Healing-Magic Ael Tarael were also within that protective circle, and Jean wasn't certain who the High-Servant had been targeting. Hayley still clutched her baby and her expression was pure fury.

Tanriel soared across the fields to hover above the Torvellen riders, throwing down Flame Spears that burst into sideways sheets of scorching fire, cutting off the path of the four Demonwolves that charged the soldiers and their horses. Four Green Men rose up out of the earth in front of the Wolves, grasping the beasts by the haunches and forcing them back with their incredible strength. They beat at the Wolves with their massive fists like wooden clubs—the Wolves howling as they retreated—to give Fien's riders a chance to escape. Moments later the Wolves fought back, pushing the Green Men to the ground and tearing through their wood and vine chests with claws like razor sharp steel.

***

Adem saw a dark shadow become visible out of thin air before him, cloaked like the High-Servants, this figure stood taller, with broad shoulders and a head like a bull; long bison horns glowing crimson. Its eyes were hot coals, and beneath its dark scaled armour were thick shaggy thighs and black hooves.

The figure wielded a giant crimson sword that it raised; Arawn suddenly there to cross blades with the creature.

Arawn fought with ferocity, standing head and shoulders taller than the Demon Lord, yet this creature was swifter in its blade forms, and it struck a few blows against Arawn's dark armour to push the Battle Angel into retreat. He heard Orion and Arig cry out, as he flicked his head to see Demonwolves charging from both flanks. Elarja's time sphere expanded; Adem threw his fists to strike the Demonwolves in their hearts. White fire blossomed in their dark chests; they slid through the field towards Adem and his friends; Wil creating another Portal-Spell before they were crushed by the collapsing forms of the two Wolves.

They landed some distance from the battle between Arawn and the Demon Lord. A massive black cougar with three skulls began to rise up out of the earth; shadow skin shining like molten lava. Wil shouted 'Eledisren!' Dis Pater lunged for the giant cougar; his golden axe cleaving at the three skulls. The beast was taller than Dis Pater even when standing on all fours; roaring as it slashed at the Battle Angel with a giant black claw.

Adem hurled a Spear of Odin at one of the skulls, the fire lanced through the night turning darkness into daylight. White fire scorched the middle skull, but the attack did not defeat it! Adem cried, 'Balor!' as the blue armoured Battle Angel rushed to Dis Pater's aid, swinging his massive blue axe to hack at one of the skulls. Shadowhunter, the giant Spirit Wolf of blue flames appeared; biting down on the thick neck of the cougar, trying to make it bleed.

Arawn informed Adem that he would need to defeat the Demon Lord before he could stop any of his Spirit Wardens. Adem created another Portal-Spell; all leapt through to land behind the Demon Lord, still in combat against Arawn. Elarja slowed time as Adem threw another Spear at the back of the cloaked figure. The bolt of white-hot flame struck a Shield-Sphere that looked like ice, sending cracks through the structure that also glowed with golden fire. He hurled two more Spears with both fists aimed at the Shield-Magic, more cracks formed, but the Demon Lord was unharmed.

The Demon Lord was also slowed by the time sphere, giving Arawn the advantage in sword forms as he beat down upon the creature's defence moves. Four soldiers formed of liquid magma rose up out of the earth and raised shields and spears as they marched towards Adem and his friends. These soldiers were also slowed in their approach, giving them a chance—Arig and Wil hammering the figures with Lukrorian Arrows—as Adem shouted, 'Llew Llaw Gyffes!'

A sword of violet flame pushed at the cracks in the Demon Lord's Shield-Sphere as Adem raised his fists to unleash twin Spears of Odin. A bolt of thick white-hot flame fell from the sky above the Demon Lord, surrounding the shadow figure in claws of white lightning! The Shield-Magic shattered, just as Llew's sword punched through the back of the figure, and Adem's Spears also struck the back of the Demon Lord. The creature had still been battling with Arawn, and it gave a fierce roar as the white fire erupted through its shadow flesh. The lightning from the sky still surrounded the figure—and violet and crimson bolts surged from Llew and Arawn into the Demon Lord's flesh—as Arawn also drove his crimson blade through the heart of the beast. Thunder roared as lightning stripped flesh from bone—and suddenly Shienden was soaring overhead, lending his Dragonfire to the assault—then the beast exploded; bright flames and ashes unleashing shockwaves as a hollow wail filled the air.

Adem spun to see Wil and Arig easily cutting down the four magma soldiers with their enchanted bows—crimson and golden arrows flying to blast the figures into piles of molten slag—but they were just a distraction.

Demonwolves charged in from all sides! Tanriel's Flame Spears touched ground all around them; a diamond of orange flames surrounded them in ten feet high sheets! Wil shouted, 'Bran!' as Llew and Arawn rushed to confront two of the Wolves; blades hacking with ferocity. Bran appeared before a third, the Battle Angel wielding an emerald spear; plunging it into the chest of the beast. Shienden cut off the charge of two Wolves with a spray of orange flames.

Adem raised his fists to wield twin Spears that struck the two Wolves closest to him. The Wolves blazed with light; bursting into swirls of dust and fire, when Adem noticed the last of the pack, lunging for them, from his right. A bolt of golden and aqua flame sliced through the path of the beast, Dis Pater and Balor appearing on wings of flame: planting their axe blades in the creature's skull. The three skidded through the dirt, as Adem saw another thick white bolt of lightning, launched from the sky: striking the earth a few feet before his path.

A blue robed figure appeared—eyes of white lightning with a flowing white beard and long moustaches, wielding a wooden staff—as blue bolts of flame burst from his form to move in four directions at once! The lightning struck the Demonwolves—as bolts of fire also launched sideways from the chests of the Battle Angels, crimson, golden, emerald, aqua and violet bolts! Adem realised they were forming a Link with this wizard figure. A surge of teron flowed through his veins; electricity at extremely high voltage. The Demonwolves were halted in their tracks—the bolts striking them in the skull like a massive fist—as they began to explode in bright blasts of fire and ash, their howls drowned out by the roar of thunder that ripped through the air. Adem and his friends stared awestruck at the figure, as the Battle Angels formed a defensive circle around them.

The howl of the cougar sounded to his right, and all turned to see the creature charging. Shienden sprayed the beast with flames. Shadowhunter charged to bite down on its neck: dragging it sideways. Another bolt of lightning launched from the heavens: striking the creature in the shoulders. Fire Pythons tore into its shadow flesh; thick blue-white bolts with snapping jaws. Coloured bolts also flew from the bodies of their Battle Angels—as Bran, Llew, Dis Pater, Balor and Arawn rushed to hack at the cougar's flesh with their enchanted blades—adding their strength to the Elemental Attack. The creature shuddered; then collapsed. Its form was blasted into a cloud of golden ashes.

'Who are you?' Adem asked the man. When the blue robed figure replied, he sounded like a High-Servant, his voice resonating like thunder, though there was warmth in his tone, as he said, 'My name is Gwydion. You awoke me with your Odin Spears.'

Adem looked to his companions' startled expressions. There was a flare of light and another rumble of thunder, and when he looked back, Gwydion had vanished! Adem created Portal-Magic to land them before Fien's riders. They had slowed their pace after realising the danger was gone. Seven Green Men stood twelve feet tall on either side of the riders' flanks, the vine and leaf woven sentinels still showing evidence of the curse on terael. Adem saluted the great captain and created a Portal-Spell to carry them back inside the city, transporting them inside the second courtyard which would bypass Carl's Portal-Magic. He created another smaller one for himself and his companions to reach the outer wall of the city, while the riders poured through the larger Portal-Spell. He did not want to risk the chance that there were more enemies out there, in the darkness.

Carl woke three days later, famished and full of health. Adem had stayed by his bedside during most of that time, watching over his friend with deep concern; sacrificing his own much needed rest while waiting for Carl to open his eyes again. When he did, they looked at each other and laughed, bright eyes and brave smirks, as if it were all a game of fun despite the risks. The Battle Angel Gwydion visited Adem in Carl's chamber many times during those days of waiting also.

It was a strange thing to comprehend. Before Gwydion had appeared before them on the fields that night to lend his aid in combat, the Magician God—as he was also known—had been housed in a Resting Point in a small forest in Torvis territory and had been there under the care of a small clan of Wood Kin for well over a thousand years. As the man explained on his many visits to Adem, he had suddenly been awakened from rest by Adem wielding those Odin Spears.

But it was more than this. Adem had discussed it many times with Elarja, as they both considered that this was related not only to the rebirth of the dragon, Shienden, and his power increasing the strength of all magic, but it was also possibly related to the time rift, relating to the Time Stones, and Jinn-Magic on teron. Their theory was, that these combined elements in play, had altered the Battle Angel Gwydion, releasing him from his Resting Point, but also bringing back much of his Magic of the Old Ways, from those ancient days when the Great Angels were rulers of the skies, earth, wind and waves.

Gwydion had explained his view of this as much the same to their own theories, admitting that he now resided in the High Realm once more, and was in contact with Odin there, insisting that he could guide Adem and his companions in their inevitable confrontation against Jinn-Fendinn. To prove this was so, Gwydion also brought Adem a gift, two golden gauntlets—encrusted with emeralds and rubies—that were explained to be incredibly powerful talismans, known as the Fists of Odin.

Adem had not yet had a chance to test the weapons, but he was assured by Gwydion they would be pivotal to his hopes of facing Fendinn in battle. 'They may also hold a key to your aims of discovering a way to imprison the Enemy in Kerak'Otozi,' the bearded man had claimed. Adem could sense great power emanating from the gauntlets, and he trusted Gwydion's word that they would be of use to him. Adem also questioned the man as to why Odin was not appearing before Adem during any of these visits, and Gwydion replied, 'Odin is resting in the High Realm. He is preparing for the time when His strength will be required in battle. You will know when it is time to summon Him to your aid, then—while wielding Angel-Magic of the Fists—all you need do is call on Him, and He will be at your side.'

'It's that simple?' Adem asked half in shock. 'If that is true, what's to stop me from summoning him to help any time I feel I'm out of my depths?'

'He will meet your summons if you call, but I must warn you, you should only call on him at the hour of greatest need. If you expend his strength before it is truly needed, you will have wasted the potential of your greatest ally.' As Adem turned back towards Carl—a day before he woke—Gwydion vanished again with the now familiar flare of light in the corner of Adem's vision and a soft rumble of thunder as the stone walls seemed to tremble. Adem had caught a glimpse of Gwydion, once, during those moments, seeing the figure rise in a flare of luminescence and vanish before hitting the ceiling. Returning to the High Realm, it had to be a sign that things were improving!

Adem accepted Healing-Magic three times a day since his return. Lydia performed the task before breakfast and after supper, and Jean had volunteered to see him before lunch each day. Adem had suggested to Jean that she could switch to the evening shift and then they could spend more time together. Jean had grinned at that but said no more, her boot heels clipping the stone paving as she moved towards the door. Adem found himself admiring her curves in her red woollen coat, white trousers and crimson leather boots. Isabelle joined him immediately after, and stayed for a private lunch, in his bedchambers, where she talked of her delight at becoming a mother: allowing him to feel the baby kick. As fatherhood drew nearer, he became more expectant, and hopeful, even delighted at the prospect of knowing his son. But they would likely be leaving soon, and the boy would have to make his own way in this world, without a father to teach him how to grow to be a man.

On the fourth day, a messenger arrived. It was a werewolf, though thankfully he arrived in human form. At first the man was arrested, although he came peacefully, and Adem agreed to meet him while the man was under heavy guard. The werewolf managed to get Adem's attention when he insisted, he knew of the fate of Serock. When the man—Kaiglen—told his tale of Serock's capture, Adem was at first sceptical, though Kaiglen insisted that Serock had assured him Hayley Martyr would promise sanctuary to any Nightwalker or werewolf who offered to serve her. 'You said Koncha was able to overpower him?' Adem asked. 'How is that possible? Serock was still stronger than me in some ways. I have heard Koncha is weak in Angel-Magic. Why should I believe you?'

'Koncha has been gifted an artefact by another of the Hex-Warlords. It gives him control over Serock, but it also makes Koncha a very powerful wielder. Before then, it is true that he was not gifted in what little use of teron he'd gained since becoming a Nightwalker. Now he is perhaps strong enough to destroy even you, Adem Highlander.' The dark-haired man had an honest look about him, and his tone did not suggest any lies that Adem might detect. His Battle Angels agreed that the story seemed plausible, though all advised caution against any attempt at rescuing the former Vampire-King. 'Why do you bring me this news?' Adem asked.

'I fled my Coven to bring you word of Serock's capture, but I also decided I wanted to serve the All-Father. Serock was able to help me see reason. There is no hope in a bloodbath, only death and destruction. In the end, we would end up destroying ourselves too. I want a chance to seek forgiveness for my crimes. Shall I swear an oath?' Adem glared at the dark eyed figure probingly, before waving the offer aside, saying, 'Save those for when you meet Hayley. She enjoys them to no end. You may go.' He then ordered that the man have his armour and weapons returned to him, and that he be taken before Hayley Martyr to join her Coven.

The Martyr Coven ... an army of bloodsuckers and man-eating dogs!

Later that day Adem received a report from the northern region of the West Lands. That area stretched almost as wide as the Free Lands, and there were many keeps, holdfasts, villages and farmlands, mostly inhabited by the Viking invaders who had settled in those territories over thousands of years. This report stated that these invaders had returned, on great ships bringing thousands of the tall muscular warrior men, with some women and children, though mostly it appeared to be an army sent to claim new territory, slaughter innocents and wreak havoc.

The coastal keeps in that region had been taken easily by the enormity of the invading armies. The occupiers of some were of the same ancient blood, and the reports said they opened their gates and welcomed the invaders like long lost brothers. That meant their forces would swell as they gathered more of their kind, moving through the farms and villages; heading east. There was some resistance by the Free Landers of that region, holdfasts including Denrolk, Turvahrine and Caldellum, had all sent skirmishes to delay their advance, but they were small communities compared to the size of this army, mostly they used scouts to report on the movements of the invaders.

Reports also stated that there were many wielders within this army, and they did not follow the decree. That would make things difficult, a force this size of Viking men skilled with the sword could be enough trouble for him to worry over. The fact that some of them could be very powerful wielders made tension start to build in his brow once more. He would need to face them, defeat them, and unite them to his cause if he wished to lead a strong enough army into the East Lands. This could delay things and could cost many lives. He found it strange that this should occur now and began to wonder at further manipulations by the High-Servants and their Hex-Keepers.

Preparations began soon after, messengers were sent on altherin horses to request aid from every city, keep and hold, recruiting every man fit enough to wield a spear or a sword, to march to the Borderlands and await the demon hordes that were sure to try to invade while Adem's back was turned. He realised this must all be a grand design, distracting the Sons and Daughter, while Fendinn moved his forces into position, to massacre the Free Landers. Adem would be ready, and he would put an end to this game.

He met with Tarz that evening as they prepared to leave the city. The rebels and Adem's army were gathered in the Royal Stables and surrounding stable yards, while Adem and Tarz walked under stone balconies in a chequered paved courtyard with fountains and gardens in the centre. The rebel leader was still a proud man, and Adem found it difficult to assert his intentions. 'Jean will require those names, Tarz. You will have to give them up eventually.'

Tarz marched in his black coat with a straight back, dark eyes staring ahead with a fixed focus of avoiding eye contact. 'I must protect my men from any harm wished upon them for what transpired that night. Do you know nothing of honour?'

'I see no honour in murdering women!' Adem snapped. 'Jean will demand justice, consider yourself lucky that her vengeance has been sidetracked by more pressing matters.' They walked in silence for a while longer, before Adem asked, 'Did you give the order to kill those Ael Tarael?'

'No, it was not me,' Tarz spoke in flat tones, though he sounded truthful.

'Then why risk your own neck to protect a few guilty followers? I could understand if you were trying to save your own skin, but murderers must face justice, Tarz! I don't understand your reasoning.'

'Like I said before, it is a matter of honour, a trust between me as leader, and those men who put faith in my leadership. If I allow my position to be manipulated, even by one of the Chosen, those men will begin to question my authority, and my honour in protecting those who serve.'

'Well, you understand that day will come when justice will be done, Tarz. Even if the Sons and Daughter are not here to enforce that justice, Jean will leave orders to see that it is so.'

'Then there may be further bloodshed. I'm sorry, but I must always do what is best for the Alit'aren. It has become a contest between us, the Ael Tarael and the Alit'aren. We will ultimately be united once more, or we will tear this world apart in our battles to defeat one another. They will try to force us into submission, but we shall not relent, so long as I am their leader.'

'You must work to make peace with the Ael Tarael! Perhaps turning over a few guilty men for the chopping block could spare many more lives, perhaps even saving this world when you put it in such perspectives.'

'Honour and trust, these are the vital qualities a leader must embrace and demonstrate. You will learn the truth of this, Adem Highlander. One day you will understand it as I do.' Adem sighed, wanting to voice his concerns further, anxious about enforcing his will against this man also. 'You have your orders,' Adem said. 'The Borderlands will support you, and you must use them to hold back the demon invasion. I'll send reinforcements as soon as I am able. I'm leaving you in command until then. Don't fail me, Tarz. I'm counting on you.'

The two armies departed soon after, Tarz and his force of ten thousand riders moving onto the fields first, heading south to meet with the other Borderland armies. Adem's force of five thousand riders left shortly after, using Portal-Magic inside the courtyard to transport them a great distance in one single step. He did not take them directly to the West Land region where the invaders were said to have landed however, he had one stop to make before then. He had not forgotten the oath given to him by the large warrior man named Hamdril Longtooth, and he thought it was about time he used that tool at his disposal, and all the other tools that were part of the bargain.

Chapter 15

The Honds

Adem approached the valley, where the invaders were camped. The campfires seemed to stretch on forever, over ten thousand warriors, spread across the landscape, that was several miles inland from the coast, where they had landed their great ships. With Angel-Magic in his veins, Adem could discern great detail even in the moonlight, the long-bearded men with their bell-shaped horned helmets; similar to the ancient Vikings from Adem's world. All were taller than the average mortal of the Free Lands, some standing taller than most immortals, over six feet six inches, broad shoulders, and deep muscular chests, with thick arms, capable of wielding their massive broadswords, and longswords, some with two hilts rising above their plated armour, or sheep wool jackets.

He also saw men and women amongst that army that were too big for his eyes to make sense of. They were easily twice the height and girth of the tallest looking Vikings, and Adem realised he was looking at real Giants! There were not many of them, even sitting they appeared taller than their companions standing next to them, armoured or clothed in leathers and furs, the women were beautiful—odd as it was to feel that way about such alien sized figures—the men deep muscled with fierce eyes and forked beards. His focus fixed on two female Giants who were sitting by a campfire. They had suddenly noticed Adem and his companions. One was golden haired with clear blue eyes, the other with jade green eyes and dark curls. It was strange, but they looked just like ordinary women; their size only seemed to increase their beauty, and the measure of their spirits.

The Giant women began to shout in a strange tongue, Adem realising that it was similar to the ancient Nordic Tongue spoken by the immortals of the Free Lands. Commotion began to spread throughout that part of camp, as the Viking men—Adem now realising they were of the Honds clans as he made out their Five-Pointed Star on a Black Bear Claw sigil on armour and cloaks—looked towards Adem with caution in their eyes, seven tall men with long dark beards, and one with a thick grey beard who was likely their leader. What they saw was Adem on his black stallion, with Jean and Terese sitting their white and pale grey mounts to his right, with Wil and Carl to his left. Arig and Elarja sat their mounts on their left flanks, and Lydia, Elmira, Tobin and Orion to the right flank. Jean had managed to convince Hayley to remain at Orodhel with her baby, which also left a Battle Angel to watch over Isabelle.

So, there they were, eleven riders on a hillside, facing off against an army of more than ten thousand invaders, some of them Giants. The Honds began to bark with laughter, some of them pointing and slapping one another on the shoulders as they regarded their opponents as something that could be brushed aside without effort. Their laughter continued as Adem's force of five thousand riders approached the hillside behind them, showing their rows of spears and warriors armed with bows, swords and axes. It was true, if that were all they had brought to face this army, it would have been a massacre, even with the combined might of their Battle Angels. They had brought Gwydion with them however, which tipped the balance in their favour, and Adem was also wearing the Fists of Odin gauntlets, but he waited for his enemies to finish their jeering before he unveiled the extent of his planning.

In a link formed with Elarja, Arig, Carl and Wil, as well as Lydia and Elmira, Adem created the Angel-Spell, and two massive Portal-Spells of shimmering fire appeared to either side of their riders, spread across the face of the valley, where Hamdril Longtooth and his army of warriors poured forth; moving down the hillside in numbers close to four thousand men. Hamdril and his warriors were built like bears, most not as tall as these invaders, but equal in girth with wide muscular builds, shaggy beards and the fierce eyed look of hardened killers. The tribal tattoos many of the men displayed were akin to the designs of the ancient Scottish warriors, and indeed, these men that followed Hamdril were similar in appearance to those legends. Adem knew these men were also highly skilled in combat, and thirsty for a battle that could satisfy their bloodlust. As the bulk of Hamdril's forces exited the portal, the invaders had ceased to find amusement in what they saw, and many groaned and hummed like cautious beasts who had suddenly realised they may be outmatched. Adem doubted they were even slightly intimidated besides knowing this, as these invaders had a reputation in battle similar to the stories of real Vikings.

The front line of invaders began to blow on horns that sent alarms sounding throughout the camp, as movement flowed through their ranks showing men springing to their feet and reaching for their huge swords or two-handed axes or hammers. If it were a contest purely of muscle and sweat—combined with pure arrogance—Adem knew he still would have lost, and badly! He would have to make peace with these invaders if more were on their way across the sea. However, these he saw before him he would crush into submission!

Gwydion suddenly appeared—a thick bolt of lightning falling from the sky in front of Adem's stallion—in pale blue robes and a pointed conical cap with a wide brim. He gripped that twisted wooden staff, and as he gestured with arms wide, Adem, Carl, Wil and Jean all shouted the names of their Battle Angels. The seven male and two female Great Angels appeared in a flare of colour and light, as Gwydion's Magic flowed into them, most of it flowing into Arawn. Suddenly over three hundred fully grown male Lions appeared, formed of flesh and blood with thick shaggy brown manes, each almost twice the size of Adem's horse. The Lions roared as two hundred Shadow Hounds appeared within their ranks, baying at the moon with teeth like razor sharp steel, each one almost equal in size to the Lions. Llew unleashed a wave of lightning that became rows of Spirit Wolves numbering in the hundreds, and Balor's massive wolf of blue flames, Shadowhunter, also stood in line. Dis Pater, Angus, Tanriel and Anwen withheld the extent of their abilities, which would also conserve their ki'mera levels, but the nine Battle Angels hovered together amongst the Spirit Wardens, each one pulsating with bolts of lightning; crimson, golden, emerald, aqua or violet.

It was a demonstration of the extent of their might, and Adem believed it had the right effect. The Honds suddenly appeared cowed in the face of such beasts; the unified hum in their throats now sounded like confessions of woe. Adem knew they would still attack; these men were filled with pride beyond reason; their violent natures were instinctive.

Adem sent Martha Skongrarth—Jean's sword trainer—to try to reach a peace agreement with their leaders. She went ahead into the valley with a guard of seven men, and the tall Viking woman spoke in her native tongue to a tall grey bearded Hond leader for several minutes, until their gestures became aggressive and their voices started to rise. The Hond leader then struck a backhanded blow to Martha, which seemed to only make the woman madder, until another black bearded Hond put her to her knees with a punch to her stomach. Her Nordic guards were rushed by Honds who butchered them in moments as the leader swung his massive broadsword; her head falling from her shoulders in a red spray. Jean shouted in disgust, 'That cold blooded bastard! I'll fry his ass!' A bolt of lightning launched from the sky to strike the leader, but the attack bended around him, a shield proving he was either a wielder or protected by one.

Adem and his companions had already prepared Shield-Spells, just as a flash filled the sky of hundreds of blazing blue bolts falling upon Adem and his ranks! There were many wielders in that army! The Honds began to charge, roaring with fierce battle cries with their weapons raised high. Adem and his companions gave a mental command to their Battle Angels, and the Lions, Hounds and Wolves attacked, charging through the enemy ranks to bite men in half or shred them with claws. In a matter of seconds over a thousand men had died, and these Spirit Wardens could fight for at least another half hour. If the invaders did not surrender soon, none would survive. It pained him to see such devastation of human life, and Carl would not approve of this either. But when he looked to his friend, he saw only rage in his eyes, as if seeing Martha killed so mercilessly had made Carl decide that some men deserved to die.

Those lightning attacks by the Honds would normally have cost Adem significant casualties. There were not enough wielders in his army to protect such large numbers; he'd miscalculated there by underestimating how many wielders would be amongst the Hond ranks. However, with Gwydion lending his Angel-Magic to the other Battle Angels, Bran, Angus, Dis Pater, Tanriel and Anwen were able to create massive Shield-Spheres to protect everyone from that potentially devastating attack. The lightning had surrounded those Shield-Spells in a massive arc like blue burning claws, as thunder tore the heavens that sounded like a massive explosion. Horns sounded from Adem's army, and Hamdril's warriors charged forward, a wave of burly muscle and swinging steel clashing with the might of the Honds. Yet his enemies were already diminished greatly by the Spirit Wardens, the beasts ploughed through their ranks still, roaring and howling with wicked bloodlust as men fell screaming in their wake.

Tanriel hovered in the sky on wings of blue flame, hurling down a Flame Spear that split to become twenty; planting blade down amongst the enemy ranks. Fire erupted from those Spears in massive orange sheets that stripped flesh from bones turning hundreds to dust and vapour, the scent of burnt flesh filled the air. Arawn, Dis Pater and Math Mathonwy charged forwards, slashing through the enemy ranks with their blazing weapons, a charge of Angel-Magic unleashed with every strike in flares of golden or crimson Fire. Where those three fought, the enemy defences buckled, body parts flying in the wake of their massacre. Further out, the Honds were fighting back, some striking heavy blows to the Lions and Hounds across their skulls or hides, though this would only drain the ki'mera of each Spirit Warden, they could not be stopped until their Battle Angels had to rest. Another row of Flame Spears struck the earth deeper within the Hond ranks, sheets of orange flame exploding in an X axis from each Spear, turning bodies to charred and congealed lumps of flesh.

Suddenly the sounds of battle changed, and the Honds were starting to fall to their knees and chant. Adem realised that it was a song of surrender. Adem and his companions called off their Spirit Wardens, though the Lions, Hounds and Wolves still prowled the fields within the enemy camp while the Honds raised their voices higher in the chant as they bowed their heads, on bended knee, and planted their blades in the soil, gripping hilt or handle as their voices resonated through the air, even drowning out the steady growls of the beasts that had cowed them into admitting defeat. The battle had cost the Honds dearly, yet Adem had increased the strength of his forces considerably. With the Honds and Hamdril's warriors united, he would have an army suitable for confronting Fendinn at Kerak'Otozi. He hoped negotiations would be short.

He felt Jean's anguish over Martha's death. Elarja could intervene to bring her back, as they had done with Kelderath, but a rescue would be difficult with so many witnesses, and she would also be hunted by Calliach. He wondered then when he would see the Angel of Death again, not soon he hoped. At this time, he also noticed that the two female Giants had survived; something that seemed impossible given that they were in the front ranks that had been swarmed by Lions, Wolves and Hounds. They were also down on one knee, heads resting on the hilts of their swords that were planted blade down in the soil. When they glanced up to regard Adem, they had a fierce look to their eyes, as if they were too proud to admit defeat, though he glared back at them and soon saw their expressions change back to submissive emotion.

He turned to Jean to say softly, 'I'm sorry about Martha, Jean, really I am. I wish there was something more I could've done to try to save her.'

Jean sniffed with a hard glare towards the fields of slaughtered men as she replied, 'We were all quite capable of doing more, Adem, but it is too late now. Many have died today for a greater cause. I just hope it is all worth the sacrifice.' Adem nodded his agreement; then looked to the fields with a nauseous feeling. He also hoped that the end result made all of this bloodshed worth it!

We're still all just pawns in his game, he considered. Well, I intend to defeat him at his own game! To his surprise, Arawn offered words of wisdom through the kigare in response to the rage that burnt in Adem's soul. Take heed, Son of Odin, for if you become too mad with passion to defeat your enemy, you may lose more than just the soldiers who fight for you, you may also lose the part of yourself that really matters.

Adem considered those words, before asking: What part is that?

There was a long silence, before Arawn replied: Your ability to judge worth in sacrifices such as these. The part of you that knows there must be a better way. The part of you that feels so sick, as you do now, when you see such waste of human life. Be warned, it was because of men using the Great Angels to slaughter their own kind, just as you have done here, that resulted in the Great Angels refusing to aid mankind in battle, long ago. If we see too much of this desperate use of our abilities, your Battle Angels may even abandon you, Adem Highlander.

Adem suddenly saw the shame of the act he had convinced his friends to commit to. He felt waves of emotion take over; ashamedly disgusted with himself. I'm so sorry, Arawn, to all of you. This was my fault. Please, forgive me. Forgive my friends for trusting in my decisions. I see the truth now; there must have been another way.

There was no reply, only the sense of a Lord of the Underworld's passionate rage, a heart of ice descending in pits of flame. He sensed the same from all of his Battle Angels, the combination of Jinn-Magic and their newfound disgust at Adem's rash decision to use them as a weapon of mass destruction. He also began to sense great unease in Carl, Wil and Jean, as he realised they too must have received similar counsel from their Battle Angels. How could they be so blind? This act threatened the safety of all of Kismeria. If their Battle Angels abandoned them now, there was no hope of facing Fendinn.

The forces were transported back towards the Green Border over the next three days, sending them in smaller groups, with the Honds under heavy guard, in case they tried to go back on their oaths. They knew the Common Tongue spoken by most Free Landers, with thick accents similar to men from Sweden or Denmark, and their leaders swore to serve the Sons of Odin till death, though whether that meant until their deaths, or the death of the Sons of Odin, Adem wasn't certain.

As the armies began to gather across the Borderlands, Adem and his friends made visits to the Academies that were mixing up medicinal remedies to combat the effects of Jinn-Magic. Remarkably, one man had found one that worked! He had been making similar potions for many months now and had recently stumbled upon a new preparation method that seemed to be the secret. Jean had most understanding of the Academies and financing their studies, though even she appeared shocked when the Druid told her how much it would cost to create enough of this medicine to outlast the approaching battles. Regardless of this, Jean sent the orders to empty the royal coffers throughout the lands if need be, starting with the great fortunes in Nordhel and Tarvel, which would put Jean in the bad books with many of the rulers, lords and ladies throughout this world.

When Adem questioned her on this, Jean simply replied, 'What other choice do I have?' Adem did not have any clever response to that, he realised there was no other option but to create the medicine and teach the method of preparation to the other Druid Chemists.

To speed up this process, Adem allowed a small number of Ael Tarael to learn the method of creating Portal-Magic, enough to aid in the production, finance and delivery of the new medicine, as Jean and the Sons would be too busy holding off the demons in the Borderlands. There was a risk in letting anyone else know the secret to bending space with Portal-Spells, though Adem agreed it was selfish to deprive these people of something that could save limitless lives in the right circumstances. He tried to tell himself it was the logical thing to do, given that if any of these women were in fact Shadowsouled, it was possible they could be taught the Angel-Magic by the Hex-Keepers or High-Servants anyway. Though that was less likely, he knew his enemies liked their secrets kept. They did not like sharing their powers either. Adem just hoped his desperation didn't backfire on him, his friends, or his future son.

They decided to teach a few Alit'aren the Portal-Spells also, to aid their defences on the Green Border. Seven male wielders were sent to recruit armies from each castle, hold, and kingdom throughout the Free Lands, leaving enough men to defend each territory; transporting the rest to the Borderlands.

On the seventh day at sunset, the demon armies flowed towards the mountain passes. Rivers of dark scaled armour and slick ebony hides, eyes glowing like liquid magma. The first attack brought over ten thousand Nymloc, Jacoulra and Boli-Kuldr pouring into Tohviendel's Path, a wide pass where it was guessed a large force would try to enter the Borderlands. Scouts on altherin horses that moved along the East Land sides of the mountains had reported swarms of demons moving towards that region. Adem sent those scouts himself, using Portal-Magic, and keeping those reports close to his chest, not trusting anyone other than those he had to.

Kelderath was one of those he had to trust, and the great captain worked miracles early on as the battle began to unfold. The white moustached man barked orders like a raging lion, his grey top knot swishing like a horse's tail atop his shaved scalp as he scanned the horizon from the saddle of his grey mare, sending forces on skirmishes, routing the enemy, crushing them like a vice. The old general forcing demons to accept that they were outsmarted by a keen mastermind of battle. His methods were victorious, within six hours; the first battle was nearly over, with fewer casualties to Adem's forces than even Kelderath could've estimated. The archers fanned out to the north and south, hammering the demons with waves of steel tipped arrows that fell like dark rain, as the heavy cavalry charged through the centre of the demon army from west to east, flanked by Aldebrands and Alit'aren forming linked Shield-Spells to buffer the advance of the charge, keeping the riders well protected from tooth and claw and demon magic that was thrown from scythe shaped staffs like crimson acid.

Flanking the riders further out were assaults by Adem and his Battle Angels. Carl and Wil simply sat back and watched for most of the first battle, as did Jean. Arawn, Balor and Llew, assisted by the Angel-Magic of Gwydion, were more than sufficient to purge the demonic plague. Wherever his three Battle Angels fought, Adem watched tornados of fire and lightning tear the demon army into piles of scorched flesh; bone, limbs and skulls flying in the wake of their massive weapons. They were ferocious in their attacks, as Spirit Wolves and Fire Lions surged alongside them, biting and shredding through demon flesh as the three formed a Link and lightning rained from the skies.

The first wave of demon forces was vast, but Adem's armies numbered close to ninety thousand immortals, and almost as many mortals, mostly common soldiers, but thousands were Aldebrands, Wood Kin, Archers or wielders, and amongst those wielders, most were Alit'aren, as the Seidr'tera and Aesir'Eron had mostly been left to defend city walls in case the Borderland defenders were overrun. Of course, even such vast numbers of mounted cavalry would still have difficulty taking down ten thousand demons, if not for Adem's Battle Angels, and their new secret weapon, the Honds.

He sent five thousand of the warriors into the front lines, with three thousand, of Hamdril's men, and whenever it looked like the warriors would be overwhelmed by the sheer size of the demon army, the Honds fought back with ferocious rage, roaring as their blades hacked through demon limbs and torsos with fluid lightning strikes. The Honds cut down five Nymloc for every man in a matter of seconds, moving on to the next three in another series of sword, axe or hammer forms that even put Hamdril's warriors to shame. They were a welcome addition to his armies, and he would not forget what he had seen here this day. These were adversaries he could never afford to underestimate again.

When the first battle was over, his warriors were allowed a few hours of rest, until the dawn, which was a red haze on the horizon, with the dark cloud cover over the Borderlands casting a grey shroud over the morning light. Then Fendinn sent the full force of his might pouring through Tohviendel's Path. Adem realised then, that the first assault had only been sent to tire out his forces, while the real attack was waiting beyond the mountains.

Tens of thousands of demons swarming like a dark sea of scales and plated hides, the roar that filled the air gave Adem a sinking feeling in his heart. The Ael Tarael exerted some strength in Angel-Magic to delay the demon advance, striking them with Fire-and-Lightning-Magic, making the earth heave under them as flames erupted ten feet high in the air and Fire Leopards tore through demon flesh. But it was futile to waste such energies, when the demons that fell were replaced by the masses that followed after; wave after wave of Boli-Kuldr, Nymloc, Jacoulra and Rahkwel, along with hundreds of Souljhin mounted on their midnight steeds.

Despite the waste of arrows, thousands of Archers rained dark shafts upon the demon advance within the mountain pass. They could regain supplies such as these through Portal-Spells, and if five arrows could be used to kill one Nymloc, or ten to seriously wound a Jacoulra, there was two less enemies to face on the battlefield. Adem then used the Fists of Odin for the first time, testing their might against the swarms of demons that had already made their way through the Path. They were still closed in on both sides by gigantic mountains that formed the Green Border, enormous dark masses of stone rising on the north and south of the Path forming an impassable barrier to herd the demons towards their destruction.

He had Archers, Wood Kin, Aldebrands, Alit'aren, soldiers and cavalry penning the enemy in from the north and south, as Kelderath had ordered, but they were just there to draw the demons in like liquid through a funnel. Adem unleashed the might of the First-Born Great Angel. Now was not the time to ask for Odin to appear; Adem knew he would face much larger demon hordes before this battle was done. He could however utilise this great gift; the twin gauntlets glowing bright golden as he reached for teron; ecstasy and evil flooding his veins.

A pathway of blue Fire-Magic erupted through the demon ranks, ten paces wide and twice that height on both sides, fountains of raging energy tearing through that dark sea of scaled flesh like a blazing Spear of Odin, each explosion sounding like the roar of a thousand lions! He struck again, and again, twin pathways of blue flames blasting demons into ashes, blood and bone amongst flying limbs and severed skulls!

The Fists of Odin were a very powerful weapon, Angel-Magics were wielded with ease, his ability heightened to such an extent that it required much less ki'mera than he would have guessed for such an assault. He wielded the spell for Lightning Hail; vast surges of Angel-Magic flowing through his core. His heart felt like a glowing beacon in his chest, he felt illuminated, yet the pure fires of teron were this time corrupted with ten times his normal sense of Jinn-Magic. He would need that medication.

Fortunately, he and his companions had brought supplies of the first batches with them, and he took a moment to sip the potion that was contained in a small gourd at his waist belt. The effect was almost instantaneous! He felt fatigue and nausea wash aside under the potent elixir's enchantment. His madness was also washed aside, his symptoms of paranoia, rage, bitterness and contempt, he felt the tension ease in his brow. Druid Chemist Evolo Marzosiel must have been a genius of this Age, to discover so perfect a cure for a dark curse upon the human mind, and Angel-Magic itself. He laughed with teron flooding his system, and for the first time, with the elixir in his veins, his soul was able to sense Angel-Magic as a pure source of energy, separating his senses from the foul toxins of Jinn-Magic. It was a truly magnificent experience!

Lightning Hail fell in a raging shower upon the demon hordes, fists of blue fire hammering his enemies into the earth, tearing off limbs and burning holes through their horned ram and bull skulls. Archers released waves of arrows to harry the front enemy ranks, halting their advance while Alit'aren prepared shields to defend the front lines. Every Alit'aren also had a portion of the miracle cure in their possession, but they were told to wait for Adem's signal before they were allowed to use it. There was not enough prepared to spare any for the Aldebrands, however, Adem had sent for thousands of Lukrorian Bows to be brought by wagon through Portal-Spells as soon as they could be gathered. Already those that had arrived were being shared amongst the Aldebrands within his ranks, and when the next batch of elixir arrived, he would allow them to wield arrows of flame once more. He hoped it arrived before nightfall, or his forces would have to begin their retreat.

Once the Alit'aren had wasted their strength in this confrontation, the demon armies would still pour forth, through this Path and other passes along the Borderlands. It would be a method of retreat and fight back, flee and harry the enemy, cut out their stamina, and flee again. Meanwhile, Adem would need to move a force directly to Kerak'Otozi; he knew his hopes depended on being there when Fendinn broke free from his Resting Point. He still had no idea how to seal the Jinn-Lord within Kerak'Otozi. He hoped his new friend Toll held that secret somewhere in that old mind of his. He would have to return to him soon to discover whether Toll had remembered something vital.

Lightning Hail changed into Lightning Storm, hundreds of thick bolts falling every second to vanquish demon bodies in pillars of flame. Crimson and golden fire blossomed on either side of the demon hordes, Carl and Wil adding some strength to his attacks, the three of them joined in a link. They too had taken a swig of the mind healing potion, and they would also be revelling in its effects.

The demons began to roar with outrage, their front lines charging forwards; a terrifying plague of corrupted souls thirsty for blood and carnage! Adem emphasised his voice with Angel-Magic to shout, 'Shields!' Kelderath had shouted the command from his saddle close to Adem a moment before, and then the word, 'Archers!' Arrows filled the sky as the Alit'aren formed their Shield-Walls of blue light, a large barrier protecting the warriors ready to defend. They would not hold for long against such numbers, and Adem began to wonder at Kelderath's plans. He looked to the aged general to see his eyes shining as he shouted further commands to his gathered captains, the riders charged off heading for the north and south, to join the warriors penning the enemy in from both sides.

The demons had reached the Shield-Walls long before then, and a fierce battle erupted amongst the immortals, Torvellen and Nordics mostly, with a few thousand Honds and several hundred of Hamdril's men reinforcing their lines. Adem's enhanced vision and hearing detected the conflict there, screams, roaring of beasts, flickering steel blades cutting through scaled hides and armour, sounds of swords clashing as the Boli-Kuldr, Rahkwel and Souljhin joined the battle lines. The shields held for now, and demon bodies were cut down like a field of corn, blood soaking the dry earth, however, they were losing ground every time as the demon bodies were soon piled so high and thick they could no longer swing their weapons freely without a retreat.

It was during the first retreat when Adem sent the signal to the Alit'aren—a blast of crimson flame arcing high over the demon hordes—telling them it was time to drink the potion. Their orders after that had been explained days before, and Adem grinned as he watched the plan unfold. The demon advance was suddenly halted; the front lines were struck with thousands of thick bolts of blue lightning, the bolts becoming Fire Pythons that chewed through demon flesh to split into many beams of light, blasting demons to smoke and ashes! At the same time—further back within the enemy ranks—fountains of red fire erupted from the earth, blasting twenty feet into the air, tearing up demons like a raging red dragon! From his mount, Adem clearly saw Fire-Magic flying from the fists of Alit'aren serving on the front lines, beams of light in neon blues, reds, emerald and golden or even burning silver cutting a path through demon ranks like massive blazing blades! Thousands died in seconds, scorched congealed husks piled high as those behind them tried to make it past the wrath of Alit'aren returned to full health!

During this time, Adem led the retreat back far enough to reach a raised vantage point where they could form pike lines reinforced by Archers, Agnars and, of course, the might of male wielders. Within a few minutes the demon army had halted completely, and most were desperately attempting to escape the devastation. The Alit'aren began to move back at a steady trot, always with a number of wielders watching the demons as the others ran. They were not all immortal wielders on the front line, which required a slower retreat as the mortals moved at a comfortable pace. This was the temporary plan, devised by Kelderath, as the old general knew that these wielders would be able to take care of themselves better than any guard of soldiers could hope to achieve. Later they would need a guard and horses ready, as the length of their retreats would increase in unison with the swelling size of the demon army. This took away the need for more Portal-Spells, for the time being anyway.

Kelderath had many retreat positions marked on his maps, and there were reinforcements and supplies set up before and at each location as far west as Nordhel. If the demons got past those defences, things would start to get very messy. Farmlands and villages covered most of the Free Lands anywhere west of Nordhel, along with the major cities and holds that would also need to defend their walls when the enemy arrived at their doors. With such a short time between the warnings and the need for those farmers and villagers to reach safety in the cities, this situation had the promise of a massacre on a scale not seen since the Bone Wars. He would have to find a way to stop that from happening. It was his duty to preserve every human life possible. He considered the irony of the fact that only a week before, he had ordered the slaughter of thousands of Honds. With his madness washed away by the miracle cure, he suddenly felt overwhelming anguish over his actions. How would he ever repent for this? He felt certain that his soul would surely burn in eternal hellfire.

***

Calliach—also known as the Angel of Death—appeared in the dark panelled chamber before those others who he had summoned to this meeting. Calliach did not particularly care for taking sides between the All-Father and Jinn-Fendinn. He simply maintained the balance between life and death, the spirit world and the world of the living.

He did not particularly care much for this war, that had gone on since before even Calliach was imagined into being by the Creator. The Lord Creator had seen that there would need to be a Great Angel that served the purposes defined by Death's role in the world. He was the Chief Executioner; the Floating Dagger above the skulls of mankind. He was everywhere and at the same time nowhere, a skulking predator hell bent on rendering his prey of the souls that their flesh housed, dropping their skin and bones to the earth to become carrion for the ravens, and passing that immortal spirit on to either Heaven or Hell. Some remained in the Middle Realm, wandering as ghosts to haunt deserted ruins of ancient civilisations, though they were few compared with the Angels and Demons that swarmed in both the High and Low Realms. Those were armies amassed over hundreds of thousands of years of battles, war and conflict that saw even the mighty immortals stripped of their former ranks.

Calliach remembered well those early days, during the First Age and the Age of the Immortals, when war between mankind and demons was ever more frightening and extreme, yet the immortals were equally strong as those ancient demons, if not more so, and their numbers swelled as their long lives and proficiency at breeding saw tens of millions of immortals alive all at once, yet that was a small number compared with the souls that had actually died in wars and now existed in Heaven. Calliach now knew the High-Jinn had obtained a mighty brew of souls of his own, as the Creator was not forgiving to those humans who sought out the path of evil. He cast those unfortunates down into the depths of Hell at their time of passing, and Calliach had been there to see them all step from life, into death, before that fate was sealed.

This was his purpose; this was why he was first imagined and then designed into his shape and form. Balance; he maintained it. Like the harvester reaps the corn in the field, so too did Calliach sweep clear pathways of humankind, using the Gift granted by the Creator, the Angel-Magic of Death.

For this very reason did the Creator grant Calliach with his Gift in the shape and image of a wreathing scythe, as the Lord had seen the future of his work and the men and women who would work the fields with such a tool. So often throughout history had Calliach's image—a human skull for a face and a harvesting scythe held in a hand of bone—in his cloak of shadows been portrayed as being so feared and so dreadful, yet to Calliach, these were all symbols he felt should be revered in honour, for they were the images of his Angel-Magic and his duty to the designs of the Creator. For, there was an ultimate plan for Kismeria, and for all worlds, known only by the Lord God, and seen only by Him. For this reason, was Calliach made, to serve the Lord in this great scheme of Ages.

This was the dilemma caused by Adem Highlander's intervention between Calliach and his prey, Jothar Kelderath. Jothar had evaded Calliach, with Highlander's assistance, but Death would reach the old general, and restore him to the Harp of Souls. This was destiny, fate already written, also altered by the ever interfering Elarja RinHannen! Calliach had dealt with Elarja's games many an Age ago, cutting down those lives Elarja had rescued through time, Calliach restoring the balance, as was his duty to the Creator, as the Lord God was still his Lord and Master, and the Gift was granted to Calliach so that he would be the doorway between the living and the dead. Without Calliach's presence at the time that a life must end, they could not die, which was the dilemma.

Adem Highlander had greatly wounded Calliach with that Odin Spear. The result was that Death could no longer attend his normal duties; people were just not dying like they used to. He could maintain his Angel-Magic most times, and balance was maintained, but Calliach feared the Creator's wrath when the balance was more greatly upset during these coming wars. At times it would benefit one side, good; and other times the other side, evil, but one thing was certain, there would be future events where both demons and humans were so irreparably damaged that they must be destroyed—by Angel-Magic or cut down with blades or shredded by claws—yet without Calliach to guide them into death, they would survive. These events would seem impossible to those who witnessed them, and knowledge would grow that Death could no longer touch the world as he once had.

For this reason, Calliach saw his one duty assured, he would end the life of Kelderath first and foremost! Highlander's interference irritated Calliach to such an extent that he would end his life also, if it were within his capacity, yet he was bound by the Laws of Fate, and slave to the will of the Lord. His Gift did not allow him to take lives by his own will and ambition, he could only serve as the doorway for those who were killed by others or who were sick and could not receive a cure, or who had reached an age where they could no longer survive—as was always the case with mortals.

He would get Kelderath—he felt overwhelming agitation at the thought of not yet being successful at getting him—and he would use these newly made associates to meet his aim. In the same room of elemental fabrication—that glowed with a pale crimson light that reflected off the dark stained wooden walls—stood three of those highest in the ranks of Jinn-Fendinn. Masked figures in dark cloaks, he would join forces with these High-Servants to see that balance was restored. He anticipated with ravenous glee the look of dread he would see in Kelderath's eyes when the end was near.

***

Kelderath rode well behind the forces that he commanded into a charge, though he was himself a part of that massive spear of horsemen that carved a path through the demon horde, splitting or decapitating skulls, cleaving off limbs or trampling demon flesh into the dirt! He roared with the glory of the experience; he'd felt more alive since his escape from death than he could remember in all his years. Hooves thundered in his ears, demons roared as blades spun and cleaved, flickering with quicksilver motion like steel serpents to strike the beasts aside in spurts of dark blood! Kelderath loved a good battle, and this one was shaping up to be the biggest challenge he'd ever faced.

There was no real risk in his joining the rear ranks of the charge, as he was riding twelve abreast on either side of heavily armoured Agnars and their mounts in shining steel, the length of the charge being over two hundred horses long, and once the middle had penetrated the demon wedge, the Alit'aren began to strike down around them with blades of lightning, blue bolts falling like a storm never before imagined—a thousand strikes every heartbeat—as the earth erupted in crimson blasts, further out, to greatly diminish any demon's hope of survival.

By the time Kelderath was in line with the demon hordes, he was surrounded by a sea of ruined flesh; dark scaled corpses as far as the eye could see. He was admiring the work of those that he led, when he noticed a number of the demon forms still twitching. This did nothing to deter his confidence, and they rode onwards as the skies lit up around him. He felt a shiver up his spine, however, when the sound of demons roaring like lions started up behind him in unison, only this was not the sound of a few demons; the entire horde had apparently come back to life! The riders on the outer edges were suddenly pulled down from their horses and torn to shreds in screams of terror! Hundreds died in moments, as Kelderath took another look around to better understand what had happened.

It was then that he saw the dark shadow cloak looming above a group of riders, the massive harvesting scythe glowing wicked blood-red, as it swung low, to pass through the forms of the men, only moments after they were pulled from their saddles by demon claws. Death had returned! Kelderath felt a sinking feeling; realising that Calliach had come for him most especially. He realised in those moments, that the reincarnation of the demons, must mean the Great Angel could not currently attend to all of his usual duties. Proof of this, was when the soldiers Kelderath had seen torn to shreds moments before, stood up whole and unharmed, wielding their swords like phantoms. Flicking dark blood into the air with every swipe of their blades, as demons surged around them like a sea of shadows. Was this the end? Arrogance returned to his visage, as he realised that for a time, he may in fact be immortal!

'Sound the retreat!' he roared at the top of his lungs. Horns began to sound, as the riders pushed hard, to split into two ranks, that circled back, around the edges of the charge, warriors cutting a path as the Alit'aren lent them lightning and fire. Some demons were staying dead, but most weren't, it was for this reason that Kelderath had to come up with another idea. The inside formation began to circle around to an about face and soon Kelderath was almost leading the charge into a retreat. He looked back over his shoulder to see Calliach swinging his scythe as riders were dragged into a dark abyss of teeth and claws. He wondered how many of his men would die and live to tell about it this day.

He tried to reason how he could turn this in his favour. It was an advantage to him that some of his men cheated death, but if the same effect occurred with the demons, the stamina of the enemy would surely outlast them. Blasts of crimson flame erupted all around him, men and horses obliterated in fire and smoke as screams of terror and agony filled his ears! His horse collapsed as if struck by the flames, and Kelderath went down with his mount; flying from the saddle. He landed face down in the dirt with incredible heat surrounding his body, he felt that his hair was about to be singed from his face.

Smoke filled his vision; a horse's head lay before him in a pool of blood. Two bleeding corpses with limbs torn free were lying to either side, his First Captain's, Leldok Arga and Kronu Bellinton. It was Kronu's pale nosed gelding—Bisari—that had been decapitated. He looked up to see Death hovering above him, the great crimson scythe about to sweep down and take out his victim. A blue bolt flew like an arrow to strike Calliach in the heart! The Demon Angel screamed, vanishing in a trail of smoke! Kelderath almost cursed while considering what future trouble that might cause, as he struggled to his feet, finding that he had a moment. When he stood, he was greeted by Leldok and Kronu, smiling with soot and blood smeared faces! They helped him walk back to his horse; surprisingly he had no broken bones from the fall and his grey mare was now recovered and stamping nervously. Bisari had also returned to life, though to Kelderath these things did not seem as strange as they should.

He looked to the skies to see the source of the blast that had caused such catastrophe. Three High-Servants were locked in battle with Math Mathonwy, Dis Pater and Arawn, flares of lightning and fire blasting from their enchanted blades as thunder tore the air. Hundreds of riders were forming a ring around Kelderath and his captains with thousands more still following further back. The attack had taken out over three hundred riders and their horses—estimated by the bloodied and ash smeared forms surrounding him—yet for now, there were no casualties! He returned to the saddle and led the charge towards Highlander and his ranks of defence. Kelderath was grateful for Highlander's assistance, but he wondered again with nervous irritation just exactly how wounding Calliach a second time would influence this imbalance of nature. They were pursued by the roar of demons thirsty for blood.

Chapter 16

Designs of the Shadow

Adem watched in horror, as more Hex-Warlords appeared in the skies, a total of seven dark cloaked forms, wielding swords of crimson flame. Bolts of wicked red launched from their blades: flying like spears, most striking shields as the Alit'aren formed defences. Yet three blasts ruptured within Adem's ranks, bodies exploding and screams filling his ears. Adem already knew many of those slain corpses would rise and fight again; he had seen the carnage on the killing fields further east, and he saw that Death had lost some of his grasp on the world. This created as many advantages as it did dilemmas. He considered that perhaps he'd acted too rashly to wield another Odin Spear against the Demon Angel.

He harnessed teron; waves of Angel-Magic flooding into his soul through the Fists of Odin, that glowed brightly on each arm. He pointed his right fist at Zefriok—a blood-red demon mask covering his ashen face—and a bolt of pure incandescent blue lightning flew to strike the Hellfiend directly in the heart! The blast knocked the figure out of the sky, falling in a blue fireball to crash into the earth in a spray of electric sparks. He thought his opponent might actually be dead, when the shadow figure rose from the earth a moment later to swing his blade; sheets of red flame slicing through the front lines of Adem's defences, penetrating Alit'aren Shield-Walls and slaying hundreds of warriors in a bloodbath. It was obvious that Calliach still had some influence left in this world by the fact that most of those men did not rise. Adem looked to Kelderath as more Shield-Spells protected them overhead from more blasts of crimson flame.

Kelderath gave the signal; horns began to sound to order a massive retreat. Adem wasn't about to turn and flee just yet, however. He ordered Carl and Wil to leave with the bulk of the forces, taking Jean with them under close watch. Before they left, all three men summoned their Battle Angels to take to the skies in combat with the Hex-Warlords. This provided the distraction and enough time for Adem's armies to escape, for now anyway. If he couldn't find a way to defeat the High-Servants and their Hex-Keepers, this was going to end in a total massacre of his forces.

With a few thousand warriors—including over fifty Alit'aren remaining—Adem drew even more deeply from the enchanted gauntlets; teron filling him with excruciating bliss that glowed within his psyche. With the miracle cure he sensed little if any Jinn-Magic, though he knew he would need more of the medicine after this desperate attempt. Invoking the Old Nordic name; Wings of Odin suddenly burst from his shoulders, rising out on either side of his frame, feathered wings of burning blue flames that flared brighter as he soared from the saddle and into the sky. He drew his sword, also glowing with pure blue light, the blade was made stronger by the Fists of Odin, but it was really just a method of blocking enemy blades when necessary.

He summoned Arawn and Balor to his side, the two Battle Angels circling his form as he soared towards Torkhan; the shadow cloaked figure raised a blade to clash with his own. Adem fought desperately through the sword forms to hold his defence, but a moment later Arawn locked blades with the figure—thunder and lightning tore the air—giving Adem the moment he needed. He flew back a few paces; then hurled a Spear of Odin at Torkhan. The blue bolt melted through his armour and flesh, flaring white hot in his heart as the High-Servant screamed in agony and terror. Using the Fists of Odin to increase the force of the Spear, he wondered if this would in fact destroy his enemy. Torkhan vanished in a warp of light and shadows before Adem could discern an answer, but he was certain he had caused a serious wound. Perhaps it was enough to disable the High-Servant for an extended period of time. In that same moment the other High-Servants also vanished.

He then signalled for the remaining forces to retreat, while he remained in the sky with the seven male Battle Angels. He rained lightning upon the fields of demons, using the Fists of Odin to create demolition blasts of energy within their ranks. Many that he attacked simply refused to die however, although they had been torn apart by the flames, moments before. The Battle Angels took to the fields, hacking and slashing as blood and limbs flew in the wake of their destruction. Sheets of fire launched from their weapons to slice through demon flesh, and perhaps it was Angel-Magic of the Great Angels that had some greater effect, but most of those demons stayed dead. Rivers of Fire Lions, Shadow Hounds and Spirit Wolves flowed within the sea of demon bodies—as Gwydion reappeared in a blast of lightning to lend his Angel-Magic to his Brothers—tearing off limbs and biting through horned ram and bull skulls with savage ferocity!

Adem revelled in the slaughter, no longer feeling pity for this filth that plagued the earth, however, within a short while he felt Angel-Magic begin to drain from his Wings. He was terrified he would fall, when Arawn grasped him by the shoulders, and carried him like a rocket across many miles, to return to his army. They were still galloping, yet at a pace that would allow the mortal horses to keep up. Their next point of defence was a few more miles west—towards the end of the mountain ranges that served as a barrier between the East Lands and Green Border—where they would use the rise in the landscape to form a wall of pike men, archers and blades. He hoped his enemies did not seize this opportunity when he was at his weakest.

***

Nodomi moved with stealth through the storeroom of pots and glass flasks, hunting for her prey like a sleek panther in its element. She wore a simple disguise via Angel-Spells of terael, giving her the appearance of a local servant girl, about twenty and five years by the smooth skin and bulging eyes she gave the illusion. The girl would appear dark of hair with large round eyes that shone like dark stones—though Nodomi was truly much more beautiful, with sparkling blue eyes and golden shining locks—in a simple brown skirt, and a short green coat, that covered the pearl white gown, beneath her disguise. Nodomi would not reveal herself to her prey; she would simply locate and destroy him and anyone who tried to intervene. This clever Chemist Druid had apparently concocted quite a startling discovery, a medicine that reverted madmen to pure sanity. This would cause trouble for her Master, the High-Jinn, which is why she had been ordered to kill this Evolo Marzosiel. She did not particularly relish being sent on such errands, as her wish was for power and immortality; she was not particularly fond of bloodshed, though she had been responsible for plenty during her many years in service to the Jinn-Lord.

The other Hex-Keepers were also busy working the same scheme in other distant lands, they had been ordered to strike hard and fast, cutting down every last hope their enemies would have of continuing to create a cure for Jinn-Magic infecting teron. Even now she guessed their work would be almost done, as they infiltrated the workhouses of these Druids. She considered a number of Jinn-Spells to use on the main target as she crept closer to the Druid's main laboratory, wondering which would be most effective to snuff out that flame that was such a threat to the designs of the High-Jinn.

She could have simply appeared within the chamber in her true form, done battle with those that opposed her, and taken out her target, yet Nodomi had always liked an alternative plan that required cunning, stealth, and of course disguises also, she had always had a fondness for a good disguise to sneak into an enemy's lair.

The door was guarded by two Alit'aren, who asked her what business she had with the Druid, and Nodomi replied with the confidence of one who knows her position, 'I bring a message regarding the gathering of herbs and other ingredients in the west. There will be a delay on the stores arriving unless I can speak with him immediately.'

'Who sent you?' the taller Alit'aren asked with a sceptical frown. 'Where are your papers?' She produced a note with the seal of a royal House that was overlooking the gathering of such ingredients; the knowledge of this arrangement procured amongst a few of her many spies within Highlander's ranks. The letter was forged, though Nodomi could imitate the script of any hand using magic of both mind absorption and letter formation. She gained the right to enter and was gathering her Jinn-Spells as she stepped through the doorway when a bolt of emerald flame struck her form, hurled by an Ael Tarael she had not sensed when approaching the chamber! Green flames encased her form, and Nodomi's disguise also dissipated in her state of shock. Her target, she realised, was not even present, and she wondered then—as she hit back with a bolt of golden fire that struck the dark haired Ael Tarael and flung her against the wall—whether they had sensed her in those moments and had him evacuated via their new discovery of Portal-Magic, or whether they had anticipated this and let her walk right into a trap?

Her Shield-Spheres were up as she turned to see the two Alit'aren with arms raised, she formed a Portal-Spell that carried her from the room as twin bolts of blue fire blasted towards her form. A moment later she stood in a cavern, dark stone walls with crimson fire glowing off the rock formations that closed in above her like dark claws. Nodomi realised in her state of panic that the High-Jinn must have brought her here! Her instincts had been to flee for safety, but perhaps she had not thought enough about a specific location which had allowed Fendinn to summon her through their connected Jinn-Magic. She clenched her jaw as a tunnel bored through the rock before her, opening to a platform before a pillar of flames that blazed as it changed colour from golden to violet, emerald, aqua and crimson, the Heart of Kerak'Otozi.

Nodomi stumbled towards the edge of the platform, those roaring pillars of flame scorching her flesh with raw heat, although it did not actually burn, but it was frightfully uncomfortable, and her skin was soon bursting with sweat from every pore. She waited, until the voice of the Jinn-Lord filled her mind, excruciating bliss and overwhelming pain filled her very soul.

NODOMI, YOU HAVE FAILED IN YOUR MOST IMPORTANT TASK! YOU DISAPPOINT ME! I EXPECT GREATER CAUTION AND MORE SATISFACTORY RESULTS, NEXT TIME.

Nodomi wondered at the tone of the High-Jinn, she had expected to meet with his absolute fury, though she sensed, perhaps, was it His fear? As if reading her mind, the voice continued.

YOUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS WERE MORE SUCCESSFUL. THE DRUIDS ARE NEARLY ALL DESTROYED, ALL EXCEPT FOR YOUR ONE FAILURE. YOU MUST GET HIM NEXT TIME, NODOMI. I REWARD THOSE WHO SHOW ME THEY CAN FOLLOW MY COMMANDS.

This news brought a mixture of emotions in Nodomi; again, she was amazed at the lack of threat in the promises of her Master. Yet she was truly elated to know that the other Druids had all been killed, the threat was nearly over, all except for one.

BUT FIRST, I HAVE ANOTHER TASK FOR YOU!

***

Serock lay in the chamber where he'd been a prisoner for—how long?—at least many months, the time seeming long even for his experience. He was on his back, staring at the darkness above as two of Koncha's brides sucked at his neck, occasionally licking the droplets of blood that oozed from the twin bite mark wounds on either side of his throat. They laughed with wicked lustful pride as they pressed their lips over the wounds and sunk their fangs into his flesh once more. How much longer would they do this? He had begun to wonder at the hope of being released by death, but that would likely only incur the wrath of another reincarnation, perhaps with his abilities further diminished. He would again become a hunted animal by his former Brothers, and a thing detested by those who called themselves Hex-Keepers.

Even now, this was his fate, and he realised how true that belief must be when a High-Servant morphed into being within the chamber, standing beside Koncha who sat reclined in his throne with that burning red stone in his grasp. The vampire leader often sat and watched his wives feeding, it seemed to excite the man, and he would then take at least one or maybe two of them aside to have his way with them. This always seemed an opportunity for escape for Serock, yet so far, he had never been strong enough to even fight off the bloodthirsty demands of the third bride, let alone try to create a portal to flee this dungeon. His oath to protect Hayley Martyr is what kept hope alive within him. He felt it was the only reason he had left to wish to be alive, to honour a promise. There was the fact that the girl reminded him of one of his long dead daughters also. But he could not think of that now, he concentrated on the voices of the two men.

'You have had an amusing time with your pet?' Drakrost Goblinking was heard to be saying. Amongst his Brothers, Drakrost had always been a clever schemer, and also a fine crafter of enchantments.

'Your device works well on him,' Koncha remarked. 'I wonder; can you provide me with more of its kind?'

'I provided the Stone so that you may control this wretch,' Drakrost's tone was crushing. 'You have your mission. Invade the Free Lands when the High-Jinn rises. You must begin preparations tonight.' The vampire leader tried to demonstrate composure, before the High-Servant vanished in a warp of Air-Magic.

Koncha remained seated for some time, that crimson stone burning in his grasp to illuminate his fierce expression. Finally, he stood, and taking his first bride by the arm he moved into the shadows; evidently, he would not heed his commands immediately, as groans of passion soon followed from the vampire woman. The other two still drained Serock of every drop of life with insatiable fervour. Yet Koncha had gone further than usual into the shadows to where his blanketed cushions lay, and this distance allowed some recovery for Serock, as the cursed Stone had stronger power over him depending on its proximity. He waited, meditating and gaining what strength he could gather while the two hungry she-devils continued to suck. Finally, he felt he had the ability to create a Portal-Spell, and he guessed this was his only chance, so with some degree of effort, he thrust his fists into the breasts of both women, forcing them off of him as they howled with wicked bloodlust. In the moment he was able to gain his feet, he created a Portal-Spell large enough to slip through sideways while crouching and almost falling into the space, though his escape was assured as he fell onto a patch of grassland that was covered in morning frost. He collapsed face down.

The amount of Angel-Magic necessary to create the Portal-Magic—even to carry him such a short distance of about five miles northeast of Morgrahl Kordahn—had been exhausting to what strength remained in him. So, drained of blood, he would need to find food and water and gain sufficient rest before he could wield to anything near his normal ability, but now that he had escaped that Stone, his Angel-Magic would return. His fear was that he may be still recovering when Koncha sent out the search party. A pack of werewolves could cross that distance in a short while once nightfall arrived. He forced himself to stand and began to stagger north in search of a farmhouse that could provide him with sustenance. If they learnt his true identity in his weakened state, they would likely drive a stake through his heart.

***

Rundel marched the hallways of the underground fortress, situated a few miles southwest of Tarvel. It was an ancient stronghold, built by one of the former races of immortals who were akin to the Great Angels of Stone. But that was of no concern to the aged mortal Alit'aren this day, his mind was set on getting word to Highlander that all but one of the Druid Chemists had been slaughtered in surprise attacks by the Hex-Keepers.

Behind him were two Seidr'tera, marching on either side of the only Druid Chemist left alive, the creator of the miracle cure. Evolo Marzosiel was likely a genius, for the potion had the potential to save the world from the curse upon teron. Rundel had taken an extra swig of the potion after creating a Portal-Spell to bring the Druid and his protectors to this secret location. The problem now was deciding if it was safe to alert Highlander to their current position. Even the Sons of Odin did not know about this underground chemistry laboratory: set up in secret in preparation for just such an eventuality. Jean Fairsythe had arranged the finances for such precautions to be made, but the location of these safe houses was kept a secret even from her.

The problem then was that the potion would still need to be delivered. The armies that fought on the Green Border and those that would fight further west of the Borderlands would be counting on the Alit'aren to defend them. Alit'aren continuing to wield Angel-Magic would be proof to Jinn-Fendinn that Evolo was still creating his miracle concoction to aid Highlander's armies. This would lead his Hex-Keepers on the trail of the delivery system for the medicine, who was sending it to where, and when, and from where did they arrive, and how? Rundel's certainty of Shadowsouled working as spies within these storehouses and delivery routes was the real concern on his mind, as these would be the ones to tell their enemies when and where and how.

He believed he had a trustworthy team assembled here, underground. So, for now they would keep Evolo under close watch as he continued to mix up the cure. Someone would need to alert Highlander of this issue very soon also, but Rundel could not spare any of the men that he felt he could also trust for the mission. The few male wielders Rundel had here at his disposal could not hold off a larger group of Hex-Keepers. That was a fact without even considering the possibility that they might send their full force of Hex-Warlords to finish their work.

Chapter 17

Battle Angels

Adem had little time to rest before the demon hordes reached their next point of defence. At this point the land still drew the demons together towards a group of hills, with enormous mountain ranges closing them in on either side like a funnel. The hillsides where Adem's forces were gathered were more than a mile wide, yet their warriors numbered close to three hundred thousand, immortal and mortal, wielders, Archers, Aldebrands and Wood Kin. The bulk of the immortal forces were Nordics, mostly from Nordhel and surrounding lands, though the Nordics of the northern Borderland Kingdoms were busy still defending parts of the Green Border further north of their location.

When Adem arrived, he was greeted by a force of nearly one hundred thousand mounted warriors, mostly mortals from lands west of Nordhel, though he was astonished at the sight of three individuals, who shone with such bright light and emanated such incredible might and majesty, that the only name he had to describe them was, demigods! A man sat between two females, the women both startlingly beautiful, both of average height for a mortal, one with hair that glowed like silver fire, the other with shining hair of gold. Both women sat upon horses of pale light as if they too emanated the Angel-Magic of their riders, though they were flesh and bone animals of altherin breed. The man sat atop a brown stallion, hair of golden light tied in a thick braid, he had two sword hilts sticking up above each shoulder of his dark-blue plated armour that shone like fire, and a third sword at his belt—Adem soon learnt the swords were named, Storm Fury, Fire Rage and Star Fury, as this figure was in fact Anann Lior, also known as the Battle Angel, Manannan Mac Leer. The golden-haired woman was Epona, the white-haired woman Maeve, both Battle Angels also.

Anann Lior spoke in a deep tone similar to immortals as he said, 'We were summoned by Gwydion to aid you in this battle, Highlander. We are glad to be of service in your efforts against a common enemy.'

'It is an honour to meet the Blue Water Dragon, in the flesh,' Maeve said with a lustful grin. Adem had heard tales about the Witch-Goddess from ancient legends—as well as information passed to him via Arawn—all of which described the woman as a powerful seductress, with a ravenous hunger for the pleasures of male company. Adem gave a short bow from his saddle.

'I will lend you my horses, Highlander,' Epona said in a courageous tone. Adem nodded again before he grinned and replied, 'I look forward to seeing what you are capable of.'

It did not take long before a demonstration became necessary, as the hordes that had travelled those miles west of the Borderlands now covered the land like a black sea that stretched into the horizon. Every kind of demon marching in ranks of black scythe blade wielding Boli-Kuldr, or Jacoulra and Nymloc simply armed with their fangs and claws, enough to strip flesh from bone in an instant. Even the dwarf sized Grimwel were marching in step with their seven feet tall cousins, the goblins armed with horned bows over their shoulders, a quiver at their hips balanced by a long knife or sword, while the taller Rahkwel wielded clubs, maces, axes or spears, garbed in coats, gauntlets and armour of greys, greens and browns. Adem observed such details from a distance with teron in his veins. He also sensed Jinn-Magic returning to Angel-Magic, his gourd of potion running low.

Before the demon army had closed a gap of three hundred paces between their front ranks and the hillside defences, Adem shouted, 'Arawn!' as Carl roared, 'Math Mathonwy!' and Wil shouted, 'Dis Pater!' In an instant the ten feet tall figures of Dis Pater and Arawn appeared in black plated armour, and the eight feet tall Math Mathonwy in his blood red cape and golden armour, wielding his massive crimson Hellfire Spear to release fifty great dark Shadow Hounds! Arawn and Dis Pater charged head on into the demon ranks, spraying flesh and blood in the wake of their crimson blade and golden axe, hewing a path of destruction.

Dozens of Fire Lions charged through the demon swarm, biting at skulls and tearing off limbs, as Dis Pater's Flame Crows swooped and pecked in a murder of over three hundred. The demons were not halted by this, despite the front lines suffering a swift massacre, yet it was what Adem saw next that caught him by surprise. Epona whistled high and clear, and from her white mare, the spirits of over five hundred pale white horses charged: forming a line of fifty abreast! The Spirit Horses impacted with the front demon ranks: stomped them into the earth in the wake of their stampede. Anann Lior drew his white shining blade, Star Fury, holding it aloft as a great light filled the midday sky—despite the heavy cloud cover that smothered the daylight—and the demons were immediately cowed, Boli-Kuldr and Rahkwel shielding their eyes as they were cut down by Arawn, Dis Pater and Math.

Thousands of Nymloc and Jacoulra began to burst into flames and were reduced to ashes in just moments! The light began to fade when Maeve raised both hands above her horse's head, moving them in circles in the air as blue fire began to dance on her fingertips. Suddenly a hail of blue fireballs was crashing down from the heavens, similar to Adem's Lightning Hail, only these attacks were multiplied by ten times or more in their number and size. His enhanced vision then noted that within each fireball moved a female figure wielding a sword of light. Blasts of flame ruptured within the demon ranks as blue lightning burst outwards in circular sheets, taking out a hundred demons for every ball of light that struck a demon or the earth. A moment later, all six Battle Angels formed a Link!

Lightning filled the sky, a rainbow of coloured bolts, a thousand falling every second to turn the grey haze into a bright neon flare. The storm clouds above churned into a great vortex, as the Shadow Hounds, Fire Lions, Spirit Horses and Flame Crows suddenly split to become hundreds of Spirit Wardens, totalling over three thousand in all! At this moment Adem clearly heard Jean shout, 'Tanriel!' and her female Battle Angel appeared at the peak of the vortex, her blue wings burning in the sky as she hurled down a Flame Spear that split to become one hundred Spears, striking ground within the demon ranks; sheets of orange flame melted demon flesh; ashes swirled amongst collapsing piles of scorched bones!

With the addition of Tanriel the Link was increased again, but none of them would include more of their Battle Angels at this point, as their efforts had barely made a dent in the demon swarms thus far—although they had taken out close to fifty thousand in a matter of minutes. Adem was very glad to see one important fact; so far, these demons were also giving up the ghost. It was when they started getting back up again that he would need to retreat. Their next point of defence was a twenty feet high stone wall that ran for over a mile and a half between the mountain ranges that closed in around this funnel shaped gap in the landscape. They would need to hold that position to ensure the safety of the people of the Free Lands; he would not allow the slaughter of so many innocents.

With the lightning storm filling the sky and Tanriel's Flame Spears falling fifty to a hundred every few seconds, Adem formed a link with Carl, Wil and Jean, and he summoned what Angel-Magic he could hold through the Fists of Odin. They had to cut down this enemy here and now, and he thought he had an idea of how he might try. With the combined link he would have more success in maintaining the Angel-Magic, as he formed a line of Emerald Samurai standing before the front demon ranks. The eight feet tall warriors of burning green numbered over three hundred, some wielding blades of laser light, that they immediately used to hack through demon flesh that fell in congealed fried chunks at their feet. Others wielded Flame-Bows, firing waves of emerald Lightning-Bolt Arrows that blasted demon flesh apart in blood and sparks. Amongst these ranks were also Samurai wielding long-handled mallets with rectangular heads of green light, and they moved in a rhythmic motion as they smashed down upon demon wedges in blasts of blood and flame. This spell was draining to his ki'mera and his stamina, but if he could hold on to them for long enough, he might do some serious damage.

Even with a link of four, he felt he might be able to maintain these for some time, and he took his last swig of the potion to ensure he was not lost to madness. The effect of the cure restored a balance to his mind; Jinn-Magic no longer detectable. He felt nothing but the pure ecstasy of Angel-Magic; combined with the energy and evil from the ki'mera that flowed to his soul like an endless river. His enhanced vision watched the slaughter of tens of thousands of demons with a sense of accomplishment; it was human life that he had to preserve.

With the Link between the Battle Angels combined with Adem's smaller link amongst his companions, teron also felt like an overwhelming force upon his mind and soul. He watched Anann Lior raise a second sword; Fire Rage glowed with golden flames as balls of orange fire the size of boulders began to rain down from the skies, striking the demon hordes to rupture outwards in sheets of incandescent flame that reduced demon flesh to ashes. He then noticed that within each fireball was the shape of a charging bull! They had taken out over one hundred thousand by now, but the demon army looked to be more than ten times that size, and that was perhaps only a fraction of what still marched from the East Lands. Finally, Adem had to release the Angel-Spell that held the Emerald Samurai in place, and moments after Arawn sent his warning to Adem's mind.

We must rest, Son of Odin.

Adem knew the moment was approaching, yet he gritted his teeth and groaned as he saw the lightning storm vanish and the fires no longer falling from the skies. The Battle Angels had maintained that Link for so long they all needed to rest and recover at the same moment, and Adem saw even the three newest additions—Anann with his blades of flame, Epona in her emerald armour and Maeve in a gown of starlight—return to the heavens after a blinding bolt of lightning struck them and their horses. They could still summon the Battle Angels not yet used in this contest, yet that would slow the recovery of those in need of rest, which meant the Elves and Men would need to hold their ground for a while. He shouted the word, 'Pikes!' as tens of thousands of warriors armed with spears, pikes, swords or axes prepared to defend the top of the hill line, with Alit'aren amongst them as Adem cried, 'Archers!'

Dark arrow shafts filled the skies as the demon army charged, raining down upon the enemy to drive bull and ram skulled monsters into the dirt. When the gap was dangerously narrow, Adem roared, 'Shields!' A wall of liquid-fire surrounded the front lines as the demon hordes met with the strikes of quicksilver steel. Again, enhancing his voice with Angel-Magic, Adem shouted, 'Alit'aren, flames and Destruction-Magic!' As hundreds of Alit'aren linked with Ael Tarael amongst their ranks, forming chains of up to thirty men and women in each, the Angel-Spells were created, and the demon ranks began to collapse in the thousands. Angel-Magic tore them to shreds, fire blasting corpses into the air like paths of exploding dynamite. The second spell caused bodies to open up and spill onto the earth as teron and terael worked together; demons bursting from the inside out!

'Ael Tarael, Lightning Swords!' The sky came alive with blazing tridents of blue flame, striking the earth within the enemy ranks to blast demons into bleeding ashes! This would sustain them for a while longer, hopefully by then the Battle Angels would have had sufficient rest. It might then be necessary to unleash them all upon this demon scourge. Until then, Adem, Carl, Wil and Jean still had the ability to lend some support, though for now, they took this as an opportunity to rest and recover. His mind reached out to Shienden; the dragon was circling the skies keeping an eye on the movements of the demon hordes. Dragonfire might be of some use in holding off these monsters but getting him involved would put him at risk of the High-Servants. Adem was saving Shienden as his secret weapon when he faced Fendinn at Kerak'Otozi. He feared that day may arrive very soon.

***

Arig Reiden-Hold—also known as Flame-Bow of the Heroes of Will—stood on a hillside where he could see the lines of defenders and the demons that swarmed against the wall of shields and warrior blades. Beside him stood Orion Demon-Slayer and Tobin Fire-Heart, former Kings of Tarvel and Nordhel, with their Ael Tarael wives, Elmira Golden-Braid and Lydia Ever-Light, former Immortal Queens before they were downcast by Jean Fairsythe's decree.

Arig released a stream of red Lightning-Arrows from his Lukrorian Bow, his mind at peace after using a fair portion of the miracle potion. The arrows struck demons many ranks back within the horde, blasting flesh and bone into sprays of dark blood and floating ashes. His attacks would have much greater effect if the Heroes of the Harp of Souls had been summoned, yet that was a last hope needed for their mission at Kerak'Otozi.

Orion and Tobin took large swigs of their gourds of potion, their faces lighting up with confident grins; a sparkle in the darkness of their eyes. It was not the light of madness however; Arig knew they would be feeling their normal selves again for the first time in years. The two former Kings wore Alit'aren black coat and trousers; dark armour and brown leather boots, their wives in pale blue silk gowns and white woollen cloaks. Arig wore a long dark green coat under crimson armour, brown trousers and green leather boots.

Forming a link with the two men and women, Arig's arrows began to strike with greater impact, blasting fire in circular sheets of golden-orange energy that vaporized hundreds of Nymloc and Jacoulra, cutting Boli-Kuldr and Rahkwel apart in sprays of blood and bone! The main force of the link was passed to Elmira and Lydia, and the two women began to wield bars of liquid-blue fire shining incandescent, the attacks tore through the demon ranks making the beasts vanish in columns of sparkling ashes! They swept the blades of fire sideways through the enemy ranks to slice dark scaled limbs and torsos into flying piles of flesh. Arig hammered demons with blasts of crimson flame on either side of the Ael Tarael fire blades, as Orion and Tobin used what increase in teron they had gained to add to the massacre.

Both men raised their swords to the sky above their heads, Tobin's emerald fire, Orion's golden light; twin bolts of lightning falling from the heavens to mix with the flames of their blades. Moments later bolts of thick golden and emerald fire began to strike the demon fields, blasting demon flesh apart on impact, as massive tigers of golden fire charged from the flames; giant lions of emerald flame emerging from the green lightning strikes! Over fifty lightning bolts fell in a matter of seconds, each striking deeper within the demon horde, and Golden Tigers or Emerald Lions charged out of every point, at least ten Spirit Wardens for every lightning bolt! The enchanted beasts created havoc as they chewed chunks through Boli-Kuldr and Jacoulra, biting off Rahkwel skulls and shredding Nymloc with claws of pure magic! The Tigers and Lions also left trails of fire in their wake that spread throughout the demon army, and occasionally a Spirit Warden would burst with bolts of blue lightning that reached out to bore holes through the enemy.

Soldiers that were in reserve ranks began to roar with astonishment as they witnessed the damage created by Arig and his companions. Lydia and Elmira then changed their attacks to the spell known as Pixie Wardens, and palm sized blue fairies of pure blue flame began to fly from their fingertips—a dozen every second—flying with supernatural speed to impact with demon bodies as Pixie and beast exploded into flame! Bolts of lightning like great reaching claws also extended from their hands to reach over the defence lines; the bolts becoming Fire Pythons that chewed through demon flesh and bone.

They did their best to spread their work to continually try to ease the need for the Alit'aren and Agnars to defend the front lines. Their efforts would be appreciated, yet their contribution would require some rest in a short time. Then it would be up to the Sons and Daughter to lend their support.

Alit'aren and Ael Tarael still held off the bulk of the demon advance, lightning fell in blinding blue bolts like a field of massive swords. The earth heaved under the enemy in walls of crimson flame; blasting demon bodies into piles of burning ash.

***

Elarja RinHannen—also known as Timestrider—watched the battle erupt to epic proportions before his eyes. He decided it was time for him to lend a hand, and he would have preferred to have Arig Flame-Bow and his four companions assisting him in a link, though he saw that they were busy enough with what efforts they could make. Instead he joined in a chain with three Ael Tarael and four Alit'aren, all immortals of exceptional strength in Angel-Magic, moving towards the front lines where Shield-Domes still held back the demon advance; blades hacking with ferocity to cut down enemy ranks.

There were a number of options for how he could help out; one would be to slow time around the demons attacking on the front lines, only to give the Agnars an advantage of being able to swing their swords much faster. This would help, but he could not reverse the march of those demon ranks very far if he used another spell; the horde was so densely packed it would be of little use except to ease the strain on Alit'aren Shield-Spells.

They were two options, yet another choice the Time Stones had always given him was the ability to safely harness larger amounts of teron than most ancient artefacts in this world could provide. They were not as effective as the Heart of Odin had been, for example, but even in this small chain of wielders he knew he could do some serious damage.

Holding the four stones gripped in his palms, two in each hand, he began to wield their Angel-Magic through each of them. Earth-Magic, Water-Magic, Air-Magic and Fire-Magic. Using one Elemental Magic at a time would allow him to maintain these Angel-Spells longer, but he chose to implement all four at once to try to put a dent in those advancing front lines.

Fire-Magic! Lightning bolts suddenly struck in a line within the advancing bulk of demons, fourteen thick crimson bolts; blasting flesh from bone, incinerating hundreds in a heartbeat. Water-Magic! Demons also began to turn into crystallized structures of pure hard ice, as he wielded Air-Magic to split the formations that exploded into dust. This spell was more widespread and affected thousands in a matter of moments, the spell was somewhat draining to his ki'mera however as he was more attuned to Earth-Magic. The ground began to tremble as massive Stone Sentinels formed of crimson glowing boulders rose to the attack, standing in a line of forty they unleashed bars of flame as their stone fists crushed demons like squashed grapes.

During this time the ice formations continued to trap demons in clusters of a hundred or more in any one place. He struck these with the lightning bolts more often to avoid wasting his endurance on Air-Magic, though he still wielded Earth, Air and Fire-Magic combined; tearing open demon bodies with Destruction-Magic. Yet this was only a fraction of the Angel-Magic he could wield while joined in such a link. He then multiplied the Angel-Spells to summon Charging Bulls of orange flame, a hundred of the beasts stomping demons with burning hooves or impaling them with massive horns! He summoned Sabre Wolves similar in size to Shadow Hounds, ferocious beings of flesh and bone that glowed wicked red as they tore chunks from demon flesh, biting off skulls as blasts of flame erupted sideways from their forms.

He took the last swig of the miracle potion to cleanse his mind of the emerging taint. If not for the potion, this much extended use of such vast quantities of Angel-Magic might drive him beyond the brink of madness. He hoped another large supply of the cure arrived soon! Their chances of survival depended on it.

***

Carl stood close to Adem, with Jean to his right and Wil to Adem's left. They had decided it was time for the four of them to link again. Their Battle Angels still needed more time to rest and recover, so it would require some heavy execution style attacks to ensure the front lines held for that time.

Adem held the most part of the link, yet the combined flows of Angel-Magic were extreme in all four of them, even though it was not shared equally among them. Carl sensed Jinn-Magic returning to teron, though he was now completely out of the miracle potion; and that was likely also the case with every other wielder in this army.

Fresh supplies should have arrived over an hour ago! He began to feel tense as he considered the possible intervention of the Shadow. He had to focus; brilliant light filled his soul; the corruption made him want to vomit. The strength of the link increased his sense of both the pure fires of teron, and the rancid acid of Jinn-Magic by ten times or more. He felt the tension return to his brow; his thoughts became paranoid almost instantly. He became distrustful of his fellows, believing any one of them could be a Shadowsouled spy! Focus! These people were depending on him.

God give me focus and peace of mind!

He reached out with Angel-Magic, forming twelve beings of pure Fire-Magic, each standing ten feet tall in the shape of an armoured warrior similar to Adem's Jade Samurai. He armed these Spirit Wardens with giant spears of red fire that cleaved through demon skulls and torsos in dark sprays! He set these Warrior Priests within the front lines of the attacking demon horde, hacking down enemy lines to give the Agnars and Alit'aren a chance to breathe after fighting so furiously while the shields were maintained. At the same time, he gripped his own staff—that glowed with bright crimson light—as red lightning struck the demons around the Crimson Priests, blasting outwards in waves of pure energy to vaporize dozens of Nymloc and Jacoulra with every strike, Boli-Kuldr and Rahkwel exploding into sprays of dark blood.

***

Jean brought explosions of Fire-Magic from the earth, further behind Carl's sentinels. The land burst with fifteen feet high crimson waves; blasting demon bodies apart by the thousands. Jean was not particularly strong with Fire-Magic normally, but this link allowed her to exude a force equal to when she was wielding through Tanriel or Anwen. Her Battle Angels informed her they were nearly ready to fight again, Jean's vision becoming inward as the voices chimed in her mind via the kigare. That gave her some relief, to know they would soon have another chance to cut this demon plague down at the knees and watch it buckle. A slight grin flashed across her face as she created a new spell, copying Carl's examples.

A dozen female angels appeared in the sky, beings of blue fire wielding bolts of golden lightning in their fists. She called them Spear Angels. The Angel Wardens began to hurl lightning bolts that blasted demons into blood and ashes; the earth erupting on impact. She could have created more with a link this size, yet the spells of terael were focused through the force of those lightning bolts, exploding outwards in flares of raw energy to tear through armour and melt flesh; reducing demons to crusted bone and floating dust. She almost laughed at the ecstasy of Angel-Magic flowing through her veins, yet the curse on terael brought troubled thoughts to her mind. She had drained her store of the miracle cure.

She actually gave a silent prayer that the supplies would arrive soon. It was a sure sign that she had reached a point of desperation!

***

Adem used his Matter-Manipulation Magic to summon twenty-four Golden Soldiers from the metals deep within the earth. The liquid gold rose to take the form of mechanical robot men standing eight feet tall, wielding laser cannon arms that emitted blazing beams of neon red light. The Soldiers were positioned twelve on each side—north and south—of the demon horde; unleashing laser beams that cut down tens of thousands of demons in a matter of seconds. The demon army was over a thousand bodies wide; the lasers sliced through Boli-Kuldr and Rahkwel flesh and bone as the beams swept through the masses. Nymloc and Jacoulra erupted into flames before blasting into piles of scorched ash. Even the Souljhin and their dark steeds were reduced to charred lumps of flesh when the lasers cut them into chunks.

At the same time, he used the strength of the link to harness teron, Angel-Magic a blizzard and a furnace in his soul. He used these flows to form sixty of his Jade Samurai, each standing ten feet tall, the samurai looking figures hacked with their emerald swords to cut through demons like a series of downward facing propellers. He positioned these Samurai further behind Jean's walls of flame, so that with their combined efforts, the front fifty lines of the demon horde were steadily being culled towards extinction. Ki'mera flowed towards Adem and his companions like a river of coloured light. Wil was using his share of the link to create Flame Wolves, similar to Tobin and Orion's Spirit Wardens. Twelve of the beasts charged through the demon bulk, unleashing blasts of fire and lightning as they shredded demons with their teeth and claws.

The Ael Tarael and Alit'aren were still wielding Lightning-and-Fire-Magic in vast amounts, and the Agnars were beginning to see an opportunity to rest when Arawn spoke to Adem's mind, stating: We are ready, Son of Odin!

Adem shouted, 'Arawn! Balor! Llew!' as his companions summoned each of their Battle Angels, the skies coming alive with thousands of coloured lightning bolts as a fierce vortex swirled in the dark clouds above. Adem's three Battle Angels appeared at the peak of the vortex on wings of fire and shadows, with Anwen and Tanriel hovering in the centre of the eye of the storm that reached down within the demon ranks to lift thousands into the air. Dis Pater, Math Mathonwy, Bran and Angus were also high above the battlefields as they formed a massive Link!

At this moment, Gwydion launched from the sky on a bolt of white lightning to land in front of Adem and his companions, with Maeve, Anann Lior and Epona beside him on their altherin horses. They too joined in the Link, as the male Battle Angels swept down from the clouds to blast the demon horde with Fire-Magic and lightning! Fire Lions in the hundreds charged out of Arawn's dark shadow form, the beasts were giant sized flesh and bone Lions that glowed with a red flame as blasts of lightning tore sideways into enemy ranks; crimson blade hacking through demon skulls in the wake of Arawn's Carnage!

Bran and Llew followed close by his side, swinging their elemental blades of golden and violet flames as a pack of blue Spirit Wolves chewed chunks through demon flesh; pushing bodies to the ground to bite off their skulls!

Tanriel began to hurl down hundreds of Flame Spears that erupted into sheets of orange flames a hundred paces wide in an X axis, with each Spear sending off flames in a different direction, taking out tens of thousands of demons; melting flesh from bone and blasting the enemy into dust! Anwen hovered beside her; thousands of birds of prey Spirit Wardens flying from her enchanted staff of light, swooping and diving within the demon horde to blast dozens into bursting burnt body parts.

Math Mathonwy charged beside Angus with his massive emerald staff; the two Battle Angels surrounded by hundreds of Shadow Hounds that tore through demon ranks; biting off skulls, shredding flesh from bone! Mathonwy swung his crimson spear to decapitate Nymloc and Rahkwel, splitting Boli-Kuldr and Jacoulra torsos in half! Sheets of red fire burst from every swipe of his Hellfire Spear, while Angus wielded emerald flames that blasted demons flying in his wake.

At this point Maeve raised her hands again, and the skies were filled with the Fallen Angels of blue fire, crashing to earth in vast explosions while lightning bolts still fell from the sky in every colour of the rainbow. Anann Lior raised the sword known as Star Fury; spheres of white fire began to hail from the sky, exploding on impact in waves of white energy that vaporized hundreds of demons with every strike. Epona gave a sharp whistle and her herd of Spirit Horses appeared again, charging head on into the front demon ranks to trample the enemy into the earth!

The Agnars and Alit'aren on the front lines began a fierce and courageous cheer as they watched the chaos unfold. The roar of victory sounded further back within Adem's forces as the sense began to grow that this battle would soon be over! Even Adem was nearly convinced; then he saw the sky flare with the appearance of many dark robed figures, eleven in total; some of them High-Servants, the rest were Hex-Keepers! Adem shouted above the roar of thunder, using Angel-Magic to amplify the sound, 'Shields up high!'

At that moment he saw another nightmare come into being. Bolts of crimson fire launched from the fists and blades of the High-Servants and Hex-Keepers, rupturing like claws around massive Shield-Domes through linked Alit'aren and Ael Tarael chains. But what took Adem's attention away was the dark mass of tens of thousands of demons that had been blasted to blood and dust. They began to rise again! Demons that had been a scorched pile of flesh moments before became entire beings growling and roaring as they came back to life! To his horror, almost in the same instant, thousands of his Nordic warriors—as well as some of the Honds and Hamdril's warriors—began to fall dead where they stood! Adem realised it was Calliach returning balance in the case of the men that had already once cheated death, yet the fact that the demons had all come to life at the same time, suggested the Angel of Death had made a deal with the Devil.

'Retreat! Fall back to Dohkesh's Wall! Retreat!' he roared the words as horns began to sound and his forces began to fall back, any one not yet on a horse was soon springing into the saddle and turning with haste to bolt for the next line of defence. With the assistance of the Battle Angels, the Shield-Domes were maintained, while the male Battle Angels flew to the skies to combat the Hex-Warlords and Hex-Keepers. This also created the time necessary for an escape, as the real threat was distracted while they moved as fast as an army that size could attempt such a retreat. Adem watched as Maeve, Epona, Tanriel and Anwen created waves of fire and lightning to blast the reincarnated demons back into dust and bones. This also gave them the opportunity to escape without being overrun with demons attacking them from the rear. Adem's real concern was whether the entire demolished demon horde was going to get back on its feet!

He booted the dark stallion and moved off at a swift pace with his companions at his side. Terese also rode close to Jean; within a few hundred yards they were joined by Elarja, Arig, Tobin and Orion as well as Lydia and Elmira. 'What can we do?' Adem shouted to Elarja amidst the thunder of hooves. Elarja looked baffled by the question, but then he replied, 'We must wait for the sign of Fendinn's Rising! We must end this war before it gets out of our control!'

'But I still don't know how to defeat him!' Adem shouted.

'We had better learn that secret soon,' Elarja roared, 'or else we might be facing an unstoppable demon army!'

***

Serock heard the howl of wolves in the forest surrounding the hut where he had gained a meal of bread and beef, provided by the host who was an aged mortal living in great fear of the vampires that ruled these lands. They were just wolves, not werewolves, but it was getting close to nightfall, and Koncha would set his dogs loose soon enough. Serock thanked the man for the meal, pushing a few gold coins across the table as he stood. He knew the old man saw how weak he still was, yet fortunately he seemed not to suspect Serock's true identity and past history.

If he realised that Serock was once the feared Vampire-King of these lands, Serock would likely have to fight for his life. Yet the food had provided him sufficient physical strength to resist such a frail figure, potentially wielding a rusty axe or blunt dagger. He did not however feel ready to take on a pack of hungry werewolves.

As he moved for the door, he noticed a sword hanging from the wall, he'd had his back to it the entire time since entering and had been far too weak to be very observant up until now. 'Take it!' rasped the old man, a look of fear entering his dark eyes. Serock sensed the mood of the man and lifted the blade from the wall in its golden scabbard. He checked the steel; it was clean, well-cared for, and very sharp. His eyebrows rose in surprise, then he sheathed the weapon and stepped out into the cool evening air.

The last rays of sunlight were fading on the horizon as he stumbled towards the northern road. He heard howling again, this time he was certain that they were werewolves. His hearing detected the sound from many miles away, as his immortal hearing was exceptional, but the beasts would soon be upon him. He was still too weak to form a Portal-Spell that would take him very far, yet a few more miles would be an advantage. He created one small enough to kneel and crawl through. It drained his ability to wield significantly, though he had put another five miles between himself and his pursuers. He decided his best hope was to find a suitable position for defence. He was scanning the cliffs on mountains to the east of his location when he noticed a pale mare grazing on pasture in the foothills. The animal was altherin!

What good fortune! He then used the speech attributed to Dremelden Immortals to lure the animal to his side. The horse had no saddle or harness, but it stared at him with a large dark eye filled with compassion, lowering her neck as she snorted and allowed Serock to seize her mane and climb on to her back.

As he rode northwards with the speed of a storm wind, Serock wondered if he'd been blessed with a gift from the gods.

Chapter 18

The Martyr Coven

'I can't stay here while Adem is out there fighting for his life!' Isabelle screamed the words this time, frowning and pouting afterwards with arms crossed under her breasts. In a cool blue silk gown worked with silver roses, the Ruhalden Princess was ever the picture of beauty and elegance. This evening she looked less charming however, her hair a little frizzled, she was also starting to show dark lines under her eyes from lack of sufficient rest.

This concerned Hayley, almost as much as her concern for Wil, who was also out there in the Borderlands, holding back a demon army that would wipe out the world if they succeeded in breaking through the defence lines. But Isabelle was soon to give birth to the heir of the Blue Water Dragon. That was important, perhaps the most important event that would occur during this war. If the child died before birth due to Isabelle's ill temper and lack of sleep—as well as her refusal to follow her strict diet or even eat enough to sustain the child—it could take away the one hope of saving Kismeria after the Sons of Odin and Daughter of Thor returned to their home world.

Whether the child turned out to be male or female, they would grow to become a figure of immense power and influence. So perhaps the fate of the world rested more on the successful birth and maturity of Isabelle's child than the outcome of this war in fact. For this very reason, Hayley was left in charge of the bossy Princess. So far Isabelle had used every threat she could think of to try to manipulate Hayley into acceding to her demands, from threats to 'order her execution and that of her Martyr Coven' to the meek and mild promise to 'raise her status higher than any King or Queen in the land.'

Hayley endured the charade, all the while nursing her newborn baby girl that slept in a crib under close guard. Both babies would be of use to the Jinn-Lord in his schemes, and for this reason Jean Fairsythe had left a host of Alit'aren, Seidr'tera and Aesir'Eron, as well as Ael Tarael to keep a close watch inside the chamber and in the surrounding hallways. There were seven Ael Tarael in the room during this outburst from Isabelle, all of them wearing expressions of slight amusement over the conversation, mixed with signs of anxiety over the battles being fought.

The two Alit'aren stood with blank expressions, arms behind their backs in black coats and trousers, as well as two young lower ranking mortal wielders, Ron and Del. The sandy haired Del with the bright green eyes also looked worried, and Hayley guessed his real concern was for the wellbeing of Jean Fairsythe. Hayley didn't need the talk of her Battle Angel, Druantia, to know for sure that the young man held strong affections towards the Daughter of Thor. Nevertheless, Druantia sent a thought to Hayley's mind via the kigare regarding this very subject. It is a wonder he did not pledge his life to serve at her side on the battlefront, hoping for the rank of fully fledged Alit'aren Aldebrand. The message came as a soft series of sounds like wind chimes, though Hayley also noted the strain in the voice that spoke of the curse on terael. Battle Angels could not drink the miracle potion created to combat the curse and taint, so their future was still uncertain.

Hayley gazed at her sleeping baby; the child undisturbed by Isabelle's shrieking volumes. 'I want to see him now! I demand it! I will be supreme ruler until this child is full grown!' Then in a sudden mood swing to a pleading tone she asked, 'Isn't there anything I could promise you that would make you submit?'

Today Hayley wore an outfit more suited to Jean or Terese Sapphire-Sword, in a dark green woollen coat and brown leather trousers with knee-high emerald leather boots. Her stomach had long since returned to its normal flatness, and she wore a thick black leather belt around her waist—with an oval golden buckle embossed with an oak tree and leaves—and the coat flared below the belt like a short skirt. 'Hush now,' Hayley said with a finger raised to her lips. 'You'll wake her and then I'll be distracted putting her back to sleep.' She regarded Isabelle with a passive expression, without any returned threat in her tone. She even grinned in a sneaky way that implied she would never give up this amusing game.

And that was the truth, Isabelle was not going anywhere near the Borderlands. Already they were situated at Nordhel, transported by Portal-Magic wielded by Ael Tarael recently taught the ability. Two of the Alit'aren in her entourage also knew the technique. No one else knew it, but Wil had disclosed the Portal-Magic to Hayley also, at least the male technique, from which Hayley was able to learn a version of her own successfully. That took some assistance from Druantia of course—as well as a link with Dis Pater via Wil's connection—to understand the complexities of converting knowledge of invisible male Teron-Spells into Terael-Spells that she could see and control. The point was, even if her guards were all killed in an attack, Hayley could still create a Portal-Spell to evacuate the Princess. It also gave Hayley the future ability to transport her Martyr Coven anywhere she chose to, under cover of heavy clouds or at night.

This pleased Hayley even more, because she had long ago decided she would abandon mankind, once her husband returned to his world. There would be no place for her kind amongst humans, so she would lead her Coven of loyal vampires and werewolves, on a hunt of the Southlands, to battle with more of her kind, defeat them, and then insist that they join her or die. The Martyr Coven would then be united to fight alongside the Sons of Odin—over a thousand years from now—in the Ragnarök Battle.

Those vampires and the werewolf already loyal to her were also close by, some amongst the soldiers guarding the hallways, others further out creating a strong defensive perimeter. 'I have to see him!' Isabelle snapped. 'He needs me!' Again, Hayley answered in a tone that did not invite further conflict, but also implied her siding with Jean when she calmly replied, 'Nonsense, ridiculous, he does not need you, Isabelle. He has the Daughter of Thor.' She finished with another grin, choosing compressed lips rather than flashing her long canines. Isabelle cursed under her breath, then stomped her precious feet with fists shaking at her sides as she wailed, 'Oh! You are truly impossible! Wait till my father hears of this!'

At that moment Isabelle began to groan in agony, clutching her womb with both hands as a look of extreme pain twisted her expression. Hayley sprang to action, 'The baby must be coming early!' The next moment all the lamps in the room went out in a sudden flash, darkness filled the chamber as beings cloaked in shadow appeared throughout the large meeting hall. Hayley drew her crimson sword as she cried, 'Hex-Warlords! To arms! Defend Isabelle!' Hayley's baby girl woke in a fit of screams, as the cloaked figures took solid form, two of them were Hex-Warlords, two more were female Hex-Keepers—one of them the beautiful witch Calliestra Shadow-Heart—and two more male Generals. In a blur of motion—as Hayley had begun to shout—the defenders began to wield bars of lightning and fire, even Ron and Del were hurling bolts of blue flame at their enemies, but the attacks struck crimson Shield-Spheres as the High-Servants and Hex-Keepers retaliated with crimson fire that took out four Ael Tarael and the two full Alit'aren—her protectors were there one moment, and when the red bars of flame struck their hearts, they vanished in a blast of crimson fire!—while Ron and Del raced to stand beside Isabelle who was now on her knees and still in severe pain. They formed Shield-Spheres, but Hayley knew they did not want to harm the heir of Highlander, they wanted Isabelle as bait. The two High-Servants marched towards the shielded men, as the remaining Ael Tarael formed Shield-Spheres to deflect blasts of fire from Calliestra and the other female Dark General, a golden-haired beauty likely to be Nodomi.

'Where is my Coven? To arms! We're under attack!' Hayley shouted, as she moved with supernatural speed to strike down on a Shield-Spell surrounding one of the High-Servants. A moment later hands grasped her from behind, unnaturally strong grips clutched both wrists to hold her as the High-Servants drove their swords through Ron and Del's Shield-Spheres, skewering both boys through their hearts with those terrible tainted blades! Hayley screamed in outrage as the bodies fell lifeless to the floor. The other Ael Tarael were now shielded by a link between the attackers, cutting them off from terael but also keeping them glued to the spot. Hayley was also overpowered in the same way, the hands releasing her as she felt the Shield-Trap lock in around her. The one that was holding her stepped forward into view, another High-Servant in a dark cloak and blood red demon mask. She heard sounds of battle outside, her loyal vampires fighting and dying in her honour, they would be helpless against more of this kind.

The other two High-Servants lifted Isabelle to her feet, still groaning but also very aware of the disaster that surrounded her. They held her arms as they led her through a warp of Air-Magic, the red masked one waiting for them to leave before he turned to Hayley and said, 'Tell Highlander to meet us at Kerak'Otozi if he wants to save the Princess and his heir.' The words were like thunder in her ears, she strained against the Shield-Trap that still held her fast from the other four still in the room; and then all five vanished in separate Portal-Spells that wrapped around them like invisible serpents of crimson flame.

Hayley fell to her knees, screaming in terror and fury. She soon found her feet—with assistance from Lauren Celman—and raced to her daughter's crib, finding the child was safe and unharmed, making short squeals as Hayley tickled her belly. The other Ael Tarael also moved to check the hallways, and soon reported that the enemy had slaughtered most of those posted to guard outside her door. She still heard men groaning in the hallway—some of them her own Coven—reportedly from bleeding stumps for limbs as the Ael Tarael set to work with Healing-Magic for those they could save. Hayley's mind raced in a state of panic! I have to get to Adem! I have to warn them all! Her new terror was the decision to leave her child behind under close guard or take her by portal to the battles on the Green Border. 'Where is my Coven?' she bellowed as she clutched the child in swaddling and marched for the hallway.

Images kept flashing through her mind of the deaths of poor Ron and Del. They were only boys! Inside of her a firestorm of vampire rage was surging! She had forgotten one word that might have saved them all, the name of her Battle Angel, Druantia. If she had summoned her at the first moment, perhaps this would all be a different outcome. She scolded herself for a fool as she saw members of her Coven racing to aid her, vampire men and women in shining armour—running past bodies burnt to a crisp with Jinn-Magic—with looks of horror written on their faces. The large black skinned werewolf known as Kaiglen also patrolled the hallway behind the vampires, sniffing at the bodies with a harsh snarl.

Druantia explained that it was not all Hayley's fault for not summoning her in time. Somehow the High-Servants were able to block our communication. It may have something to do with the curse on terael. The other thought that troubled Hayley the most was that they had kept their location quite secret. This meant there was at least one traitor amongst them!

***

Rodriel Tarz watched with a grim expression as his forces retreated yet again. The demon horde this far north on the Green Border was said to be smaller than the one Highlander was facing, yet it still stretched for miles in the hundreds of thousands at an estimate. Every kind of demon of this Age was there, Boli-Kuldr, Nymloc, Grimwel, Rahkwel and Jacoulra; all pushed into an advance by the thousands of Souljhin on midnight steeds. A demon army of that size would rampage the lands without the coercion of their demon masters, yet the enemy had obviously been preparing for this war a very long time, building its forces in the East Lands to proportions that were potentially unstoppable.

He had some assistance besides his wielders and warriors, however. The Great Angel Gwydion had shown up in battle a number of times with a host of other Battle Angels to aid them in combat. The Battle Angels were getting stronger; a mix of various elements in play, yet the result was many Great Angels were returning to a portion of their ancient Angel-Magic. Many were now free from their Resting Points, returning to the High Realm or the rivers and forests of the lands according to Gwydion, and some had even returned to the Underworld. Highlander's dragon pet Shienden was one of the influencers of these sudden changes.

As his forces began to retreat on their horses in a wave of over two hundred thousand defenders, Gwydion appeared in a bolt of lightning to land between the retreat and the charging demon army. It was some distance off, but Tarz watched with the enhanced vision of teron flowing in his veins, and he made out two other figures clearly on either side of the Battle Angel. The other two were both male, one standing eleven feet tall in thick dark green armour that rippled like water and fire. That was Runen, the Great Angel of Earth, and the last time Tarz had seen him close up he saw a face carved of rock with a wide jaw and chiselled cheekbones, a moustache and goatee of thick hard moss. Runen's eyes were emerald fire and he wielded a massive blue crystal hammer known as Demon Ward.

At this moment that Tarz looked on he saw Runen smash the hammer down into the earth, facing the charging demon hordes. The earth trembled as fire ruptured in massive streaks through the dark clay, emerald fountains that raged towards the demons to strike the front lines in an arc of flames a half mile wide! On impact the flames immediately began to vanquish thousands of demons, but as the fire tore through the ranks, it took the form of twenty giant stone warriors, similar to Runen in appearance, only these were standing twice his height; emerald fire blasting demon flesh in their wake. Each Rock Sentinel wielded a massive hammer or axe formed of the same blue crystal—twice as large—that they used to crush demons like stomping vermin underfoot!

Gwydion wore a shimmering ruby coloured silk robe and conical wide-brimmed hat this time, wielding his gnarled wooden staff with arms wide as thousands of Pixie Wardens began to fly out of his form, rising into the air to fly like lightning towards the demons; skulls exploding on impact!

At the same time the three Battle Angels formed a link to bring lightning and fire from the heavens as the dark cloud cover swirled in a vortex, emerald, aqua and golden bolts. Hundreds of bolts fell to the demon fields to blast the enemy out of existence, yet Tarz had already seen a large portion of the defeated demons rise back up and return to battle. This was most troubling; an immortal demon horde was certainly something they could not defeat.

The third Battle Angel present was also much taller than Gwydion, a slender figure encased in a ring of crimson-golden flames with ancient symbols marked in fire within the circle. That was Neit, the Great Angel of War Rage, armed with a spear of white fire that pulsed in red and gold flares as he unleashed bars of incandescent Fire-Magic to slice through demons by the thousands. Wearing bright golden armour studded with brightly coloured jewels, the figure wore a golden helmet in the same ancient style of Nordic warriors and his face was a pale human skull of pure fleshless bone; crimson fire glowing in the dark empty sockets. Curling shadow locks fell around his shoulders with wings of crimson fire holding him levitated a foot above the ring of flames.

This scene of carnage lasted for over fifteen minutes, bringing the demon charge to a standstill; allowing Tarz's forces a safe retreat to a series of hillsides, leading up to a stone wall standing fifteen feet high, that guarded the pass between the last Borderland mountain ranges before entering the Free Lands. They had been pushed back through that region since they began their defence at Highlander's command. Tarz intended to hold the enemy back from this new point of defence with wielders, Aldebrands and Archers. Once the cavalry was safely behind the stone wall there was no hope of sending out a charge through such a narrow gateway at the base where only four could ride abreast. He was considering using Portal-Magic to attack with cavalry from the rear if they could cut this army down to some extent, and they had used Portal-Spells to get most of the warriors behind the wall in so short a time. Only a small number of Alit'aren and Ael Tarael here knew the Portal-Magic, but they used large linked chains to create vast stretching Portal-Spells for riders to pass through up to five hundred abreast.

Once they were safely inside the new point of defence with Archers and wielders lining the walkways of the wall—along with thousands of Nordics and Torvellen warriors armed with swords, pikes, spears or axes—Tarz looked to see the Battle Angels return to the skies in a bolt of blue lightning as thunder tore the heavens. Tarz was not able to summon Gwydion or his Brothers; they simply seemed to know when they were most needed. He ground his teeth in frustration as he watched thousands of the slaughtered demons rise and take form once more.

The great captain Fien Marghotha stood beside him watching the disturbing scene, his Torvellen Lady, Jeimella, by his side as the aged immortal remarked, 'This is certainly going to be a challenge.' As Tarz gave the man a sideways glance, he thought he saw a look of eager anticipation. Excited at the prospect of dying for a worthy cause Tarz assumed, or else the madness was just getting to him. They needed that fresh supply of potion fast! He was counting on being able to allow the Aldebrands to wield Lightning-Arrows with their Lukrorian Bows. Without that extra assistance, the demons would soon overpower them here too. He had considered putting a Portal-Spell up in front of the wall—as demons could not pass through Portal-Magic which would make it impossible for them to climb it—however that would only give them the ambition to scale the surrounding mountains or turn back to find another path. They were pushing hard here, perhaps the only other army that was attempting to enter the Free Lands. If they could hold them back here and try to wipe them out—at the possible expense of the lives of many of his warriors—it seemed to be the best possible method given the circumstances.

Demons were in many ways stupid creatures, they attacked in formation and pushed at one point with relentless ambition, yet they often failed to see another option unless they were forced to it either by the Souljhin or by inability to achieve their aims, at which point they often found another option. This could be used to an advantage at times like these, and had always been throughout the Ages, but demons that refused to die was something he had never heard of before. He wondered if it was a sign of Jinn-Fendinn's Return.

'Archers! Pikes! Alit'aren, Shields!' The defensive wall of liquid-blue fire covered the walkways as a rain of dark arrow shafts covered the skies to fall upon the demon masses; punching through dark scaled flesh to cover the beasts like giant pincushions. Behind those front lines the savage barks and growls sounded like the roar of a million dark lions.

As the enemy began to scale the high stone walls, warriors fought back with blades of enchanted steel glowing like the sun, stabbing and slicing at the claws and skulls that tried to push through the narrow gap between the top of the wall and the shields above it. Again, this trap they had devised would lead the Souljhin to attempt another route for their invasion, but for now, it was the only way Tarz could think of to save lives while keeping the enemy occupied.

'Alit'aren, Earth-Fire-Magic and Destruction-Magic!' he roared with Air-Magic emanating his voice like thunder. Looking to the hordes within the pass, he saw the ground erupt in fountains of crimson flame. Teron-Magic forced thousands of demon bodies to burst like squashed grapes, insides spilling on to the ground as skulls exploded in glorious sprays of dark blood!

Tarz just hoped most of them stayed dead this time.

***

Adem was standing on the walkway of the high stone wall guarding the end of the pass, between the massive dark peaks of the Green Border. It was nightfall, the dark clouds above still blocking out the starlit sky as they billowed further west from the East Lands. The air was still warm however, dry and draining of every drop of sweat in his body. His throat was parched, he needed water, but there was no time for that now.

If they lost their position here, the next point of defence would be at Talmeris; situated in line with the pass with stone forts, towers and walls built up over hillsides and fields approaching the Borderland Kingdom. There was no high wall barring entry to the entire region of the Free Lands, but valleys and smaller mountain ranges created similar funnels in the landscape that would draw the demons to those locations. Warriors defending those forts and walls would also draw the attention of the enemy, buying them more time while the farmers and villagers attempted to reach the safety of the cities that stood further west of Talmeris.

These defences had held back demons for thousands of years, but the greater walls were destroyed long before by the massive demons of ancient times. The walls were rebuilt with the assistance of wielders to move the massive stones into place, yet reconstruction of a higher wall was a political as well as a historical issue that had faced delays for far too long.

Adem had moved his forces here via Portal-Magic to arrive at least an hour before the demon hordes could reach them, but he watched the dark mass of invaders pushing towards them now through the gap, and his blood ran cold to think that these creatures were at present so hard to kill.

He was ready to give the order to prepare the defence of the wall when Wil appeared at his side with Hayley. Adem looked around in a sudden panic! There were dozens of her vampire coven pushing their way forwards through the crowd, one of the females holding Hayley's daughter in her arms, but he was searching for Isabelle. 'Where is Isabelle?' he asked while trying to control his temper. 'Don't tell me you left her alone.' Hayley looked at him with stark terror written on her visage as she explained all that had happened. As the tale continued, Adem felt a great weight upon his mind; anxiety constricted his chest as he thought of losing Isabelle, and his son! How long had Fendinn been planning this?

He realised he never should have left her alone, even with guards he hoped were sufficient. 'I tried my best, Adem!' Hayley exclaimed with tears running down her vampire cheeks. 'There was something else I had to warn you all about, too. You, Wil, Carl and Jean. I wasn't able to communicate with Druantia when the High-Servants appeared. But it was more than that, I completely forgot about her, when she had spoken to my mind only moments before. I think it might have something to do with the High-Servants having that influence over us via the curse and Jinn-Magic! Then they blocked me from Angel-Magic and locked down their Shield-Traps. There was nothing I could do. I'm so sorry, Adem! But I will help you save her! I promise.'

Adem took in the information as Jean approached and asked Hayley, 'What about Ron and Del?' Jean had been listening closely, but from a distance. Adem noted the concern in her tone. When Hayley explained that both boys had been murdered, Adem felt Jean's significant pain via the kigare. Adem knew that Jean had had a soft spot for the boy Del. He did not feel the slightest bit of jealousy over that now, he just thought of two more men who had died for his cause. He reached out to take Jean's hand, and he was relieved that she accepted the gesture and squeezed tightly as tears started to fall. 'They were very good boys,' she said as Kelderath began to bark orders to his captains and lieutenants. The demons were charging forwards now; their savage barks and growls filling the air like a dreadful chorus.

Adem stared at the demon approach with fierce rage. He was no longer in any way empathetic for these gruesome wretches! They were an abomination! They were pure evil incarnate! He prepared to lash out at them, drawing vast amounts of teron through the enchanted gauntlets. He looked to Jean, Carl and Wil and immediately felt them open themselves to accept his link. Angel-Magic raged in his soul to overwhelming proportions, they gave it all to him, and he drank it in with insatiable desire to wreak his vengeance.

Thunder tore the air; lightning began to strike the demons for miles into the distance, thousands of blazing aqua tridents slamming into the earth to vaporize demons in packs of fifty, the blasts exploding to cut through hundreds more with every strike! He brought Lightning Hail too; Blades of Odin amongst the lightning, and two hundred Jade Samurai, hacking and hammering demon flesh into pulp with weapons forged of Angel-Magic. If Calliach couldn't do his job properly, Adem would take his place! Fire Pythons launched from the blades of lightning, giant thick snapping jaws biting through demon souls as ki'mera flowed towards him and his companions as a floating river of colourful light. He felt the evil of the ki'mera mixed with the incredible charge to his spirit that was always attributed to drawing in demon souls. The corruption on Angel-Magic was extreme; he had long before exhausted his supply of the cure.

Hayley breathed the name, 'Druantia,' her voice clear and bright in his ears with teron flowing in his veins. He allowed her to join in the link, as forty Green Men standing thirty feet tall rose up amongst the demon masses, clubbing and crushing them with massive fists and feet of vine entwined wood. Carl shouted, 'Math Mathonwy!' Hundreds of Shadow Hounds charged from the base of the wall to tear demons to shreds, biting off skulls as they pushed Jacoulra and Boli-Kuldr into the dirt. Wil roared, 'Eledisren!' as thousands of Flame Crows swooped from the skies to peck and claw at demon skulls, the massive form of Dis Pater rising in the thick of battle to cleave with his bright golden axe, splitting skulls with the forms known as Blood Moon and Crimson Sun, kicking Nymloc aside as he swung to cleave a Boli-Kuldr in half. Adem shouted, 'Arawn!' as Jean said the name, 'Tanriel,' softly, her voice filled with emotion at the loss of Del, but Adem could feel her rage building.

Tanriel launched into the sky on wings of blue fire, hurling a crimson Flame Spear that split into two hundred of the weapons before striking earth and erupting in massive sheets of golden-orange flame. She continued to unleash these attacks as Arawn appeared beside Math and Dis Pater, the three Battle Angels wreaking havoc with their weapons; sheets of fire launched from the strike of every blade. Fire Lions appeared amongst the Shadow Hounds, hundreds of the beasts formed of flesh and bone with energy pulsing around their forms. Their roars filled the air as they joined in the feast.

Lions and Hounds morphed to become incandescent white dragons of flame, gorging on flesh with massive burning jaws. Green Men clubbed the earth; sending off waves of emerald fire that split into forms of Dwarves hacking demon flesh with axes of emerald crystal. Arawn, Dis Pater and Math's forms split to become wedges of forty identical figures for each Angel, sending out blasts of Elemental Magic with each swing of sword, axe and spear. Lightning and sheets of flame launched from their blades to cut through the enemy forty ranks deep, the Angels and their Sentinels advancing swiftly; hacking demons apart with a vengeance. Math's and Arawn's flames took the form of scores of Hounds and Lions, and Dis Pater's were filled with Crows punching through demon chests in blasts of blood and fire. Where the three flames merged, sinuous apparitions of Fire Dragons took form, they were pure silver and burning white, chomping though demon flesh; roaring with bloodlust and rage.

Adem felt no remorse for what he saw, only hatred and rage. He believed now that his growing concern for the plight of the demons he was forced to kill must have been a part of his illness growing, a sense of connectedness to evil creatures via the Magic of Jinn-Fendinn that flowed through teron. He had believed it was a sign of his good nature, to care even for such beasts that fed on human flesh with insatiable hunger and bloodlust, savage killing machines created by the Lord of Corruption. Now he knew it was simply madness to feel such a way.

The sky was now ablaze with coloured lightning bolts, via the Link between the Battle Angels that added to Adem's destruction. They would not exert the strength of any more Battle Angels than this while they remained here. Each of them knew the confrontation at Kerak'Otozi would require them all to be well rested. Even this was foolish, if he took a third of the forces here with him to the East Lands including Kelderath to lead, the defenders could still hold here for a number of days with enough wielders to support them.

His concern was what would occur if the potion did not arrive to restore the Alit'aren to mental stability. He worried that drawing this much Angel-Magic could quickly bring back his own symptoms. He could not win if that happened, he knew that, so reluctantly he released the link and felt the vast torrents of Angel-Magic slip from his soul. It was agony to make that transition, the light and colour of the Battle Angel storm fading by significance to the transparent glow he had seen moments before. His soul ached to draw more of teron too, feeling that link and then letting go was a tornado of exquisite bliss turning into a world of loss and sorrow.

All he could think was that he hoped they could save Isabelle. He realised now how badly he'd treated her. He felt the claw of Jinn-Fendinn reach in and tear out his heart! 'It's time to go!' he shouted to his friends. 'Kelderath, you're coming with us! Leave Maldros here to command and bring Morthros! We'll need his expertise if Calliach catches up with you.' Kelderath grimaced at the suggestion; then barked at his men like a disgruntled old lion. Adem was not afraid to meet his maker, however. He had been prepared for that day since that fateful night at Bright. 'Archers! Blades! Alit'aren, unleash Earth-Fire-Magic and Destruction-Magic!' As their Battle Angels returned to Resting Points, the Alit'aren took over to light up the sky. The Wood Kin, Aldebrands and Archers had already started firing down off the wall directly at the enemy advance, thousands of broad headed steel arrows driving demons into the dirt.

Adem pushed his way through the crowd with his companions in close step. The crowd began to part for him also; warriors pushing others to step aside as they noted the storm cloud on his visage. He would show the Jinn-Lord what Adem Highlander was capable of.

First, he would need to make one more stop. He still needed the old half-blood Toll, to ask him how to create the seal. Without that, he had no chance of victory.

***

Toll sat reclined in his rocking chair over the front porch of his home, watching small birds peck at the dirt for grubs and insects. They were night birds, for feeding at least, amber feathers they were commonly called because of the streaks of yellow across the sides of each wing. He puffed on his pipe after a long swig of cider and stared up at the moon. Clouds were blocking most of the stars in the sky, Fendinn's Magic was spreading, but here the crescent moon still shone like a sliver of gold.

He heard footsteps inside the house, his ears were still good! His aged bones nearly leapt out of the chair as he scooped up his walking cane and opened the front door to step inside. 'Who's there?' he asked. He felt a sudden chill as a shadow cloaked figure emerged from the darkness into view of the moonlight falling through the window. 'Torkhan!' Toll shouted. 'What the hell do you want?'

'You called me by a different name when we were still friends,' the High-Servant said in a soft thunderous tone. Toll had known the man that became Torkhan, during that Age, he was known as Joromen, and he was one of the old heroes that fought the Shadow and his minions. Toll remembered those days with a grim expression as he shouted back, 'Now I call you Torkhan Dog Breath! What do you want?'

'You know why I am here, old friend. I cannot allow you to give Highlander the secret of sealing the High-Jinn back in his Resting Point. I know you have remembered the secret too. That is why.' He drew his long sword that glowed wicked crimson.

'You claim to know the thoughts that pass through my mind?' Toll asked.

'You will not live to know the answer to that question,' Torkhan replied with a tone of satisfaction. Toll reacted; drawing from teron, excruciating amounts of Angel-Magic filled his mind and body. Jinn-Magic was foul! Toll had been reluctant to wield more than a trickle since he first felt the corruption on Angel-Magic, though he had never feared death by order of Jean Fairsythe's decree. He just knew it would turn him mad, and then he might lash out and hurt someone. He had given that way of life up long before. But he would make one last attempt to take the life of this man who had betrayed the world.

'What are you doing?' Torkhan asked with a hint of fear. 'You will destroy yourself with that much—'

'Better than to die at your hands, betrayer!'

The room burst into flames, roaring blasts of incandescent blue fire exploded from his heart and chest, striking Torkhan as the Hex-Warlord fled in a warp. Before the fire consumed his flesh, Toll grinned again to think that his old friend would be licking his wounds for some time into the future. He had done his best. Good luck, Highlander.

***

Adem only brought a small host of guards with him to Toll's manor house. When he arrived through the Portal-Spell the first thing that he noticed were the hot orange embers covering the burnt-out rooftop, flames also licking the walls and window frames, some of them deep blue fire that sparkled like lightning. Adem's heart sank as he stepped into the smoke-filled front room to find what was left of Toll scattered about the floor and walls, charred flesh torn off in shreds as if the old man had exploded.

How had the Hex-Warlords known about his association with Toll? He had told no one. As he stood gazing over the room with that question in his mind, the answer dawned on him.

Fendinn must be able to see through our eyes! He must be able to hear what we say and hear! So, in effect, the Jinn-Lord can read our minds! He must know everything we plan the very moment we decide to do it.

He explained the theory to Carl, Wil and Jean, and although they seemed sceptical at first, the more he urged them to see reason in the belief—using all the strange coincidences as examples, such as the High-Servants knowing where to find Isabelle—the more they started to accept it as more than possible.

'It must be something to do with the curse and Jinn-Magic!' he said. 'Which means all male and female wielders are potentially spies for Fendinn; unwillingly providing our enemies with all our secrets! Perhaps he can even read our minds and hear our thoughts!'

'If this is true,' Elarja said, 'we have no chance of success.'

'Perhaps,' Jean said. 'But if we don't yet know how to defeat Fendinn, we still have no definite plan of attack. They know we are on our way to Kerak'Otozi; we can't keep that a secret from them, but the rest; well, we can just make it up as we go along.'

'Kelderath is a suitable commander also,' Carl said. 'He is not a wielder, so the madness does not touch him, therefore his plans will remain our secret.'

'We'll do what we can to save Isabelle,' Jean said; reaching out to grip Adem by the shoulder.

***

Serock charged through the night on the altherin mare. The horse was fast even for immortal stock, he still considered it to be a miracle that he had found her at such a desperate time. If the Great Angels were showing him favour, perhaps there was still a chance to redeem himself before the All-Father. He had done many terrible things in the life that he was known as Tairark Vampire-King, but they were already fading memories to him now, he remembered his life before that time more often, his days as a Warrior of the All-Father.

Howls filled the night air, a large pack of werewolves close on his trail. Werewolves were not as fast as this horse, but they were very fast long-distance runners, and Serock had to allow the horse to rest at slower speeds now and then to ensure it survived the journey. He still could not create a Portal-Spell large enough to fit the horse through, and without his mount, the werewolves would catch up. He was approaching the mountains passes between the Southlands and the southern ranges of the Free Lands. If he could lose them in that maze of narrow paths that wound towards the open fields, he would have some chance of escape once the horse was able to sprint again. The problem with that plan was, the paths would slow his mount considerably, giving the werewolves a chance to close the gap. Werewolves also had very good sense of smell, and they had picked up Serock's trail long before; they now knew the scent of the horse, too.

The entrances to the passes were ahead; he charged forwards and began to weave through the dividing ranges as fast as the narrow bends would allow. The howling drew closer, they were very close now! Some of them were scaling the mountain sides, hoping to attack from above, possibly springing to tear him from the horse's back. He drew the sword he'd obtained with his right hand, clutching the reins with his left as he whispered to the horse in Aelfin Tongue. The mare picked up speed, its hooves moving in a blur of precision steps as it turned sharp corners or ascended paths of soft earth or sand.

He grappled for teron, Angel-Magic flooding into him to a degree that left him with two options. He could stop and create a Portal-Spell that he could possibly lead the horse through on foot with the animal's head lowered, or he could defend himself here and now. The problem with the portal idea was he still could only wield enough to travel a few more miles north of here, and if the werewolves caught up again—due to the need to rest the horse at a gallop or trot for a few miles—he would have no Angel-Magic left to defend himself.

Deciding that a fight was the only option, he slowed the horse and spun to face his attackers. This far west of the Free Lands the crescent moon shone bright and clear, casting sufficient blue moonlight over the path and mountainsides for Serock to make out the charging forms of his pursuers. The horse began to panic and snort as it stamped its front hooves in an urgency to flee. Serock spoke the words, 'Ahn nenon rah!' which was horse chant for: Do not fear evil!

The horse settled and Serock pointed the sword blade towards a large dark-skinned monster with a thick wolf muzzle and jet-black eyes. Two more of equal size and speed were scrambling along the high rock walls on either side of the path.

A sheet of liquid-blue flame launched from the pointed blade, striking the Wolf on the path between the eyes. It roared as the fire pierced its skull, collapsing and sliding through the dirt. It was still for the moment, but Serock was not yet strong enough to kill one with Angel-Magic. He struck twice more to knock the other two beasts from the rock walls, both falling from a great height as the blue flames pierced them between their shoulder blades. The fall would not kill them either and he did not want to face these three again. So, he dashed towards the fallen bodies, his mare standing over the forms of three immortal males, as the shock of his attacks had returned them to human form.

Howls of pursuit approached from the southwest of the pass. If it had only been these three, perhaps he could have told them of Hayley Martyr's Coven. Perhaps he could have saved their lives if they would swear an oath to serve at his side. But there was no time for that; he would have more blood on his hands this night. He struck hard and fast, driving the steel a foot deep through their hearts, then struck again to sever skulls from necks in a dark crimson spray.

He mounted the horse again and charged off into the night. He prayed to the All-Father that his luck held out this night.

Chapter 19

Return of the Jinn-Lord

Adem's forces poured out through the massive Portal-Spell situated at the foothills of Kerak'Otozi. He brought the Honds and Hamdril's warriors, as well as close to a hundred thousand more mounted warriors including Nordics, Wood Kin, Archers, Alit'aren and Ael Tarael. Heavy cavalry poured through first, followed by Aldebrands and Immortal Agnars, heavily armed including their Lukrorian Bows. Adem had sent Alit'aren to discover why the potion had not arrived yet. They desperately needed a fresh batch to keep the wielders stable. He also wanted to allow the Aldebrands to wield arrows of flame, but he could not risk it yet without the arrival of more of the cure.

A vast demon horde surrounded the base of the massive mountain, hundreds of thousands swarming over the foothills to block their passage to the peak. Arawn assured Adem that Isabelle was being held near the top of Kerak'Otozi, as he could sense the presence of the Princess and Adem's son in her womb even while contained in his Resting Point. Adem already considered Hayley's warning however, so they attacked suddenly, gazing up at the towering black cone of rock that pulsed and flared with volcanic red flames; dark clouds flowing westward towards the Free Lands, and southwest to cover the Southlands, which it had done for thousands of years.

Before the Hex-Warlords could appear to possibly block them from summoning their Battle Angels, Adem shouted, 'Arawn! Balor! Llew Llaw Gyffes!' as Carl roared, 'Math Mathonwy! Angus!' just as Wil barked the names, 'Eledisren! Bran!' and Jean cried, 'Tanriel and Anwen!' The skies became aflame with coloured lightning bolts as a storm wind forced the dark cloud cover into a gaping vortex. It was drawing close to early morning, the sky above growing lighter through the thick grey haze. Thunder tore the air, as the Battle Angels formed a massive Link, but they would not last long enough to reach the peak of the mountain without the help of another. Drawing deeply through the enchanted golden gauntlets, Adem roared the word, 'Odin!'

Thunder echoed overhead as the lightning storm turned to blazing blue bolts, thick electric flame striking the demon hordes and blasting them to cinders and ash, but the lightning was falling much further than that, this was the lightning storm of the true Awakening of Odin! Arawn confirmed to Adem that this storm currently covered the entire Four Lands of Kismeria, and that the lightning strikes would be visible to every living man, woman and child alive at this moment. Adem wondered at the meaning behind this. It was a demonstration of immense Angel-Magic, that much he knew, but now was the time to act. Kelderath shouted commands, horns sounded, and the heavy cavalry charged the foothills where demons massed in dark waves.

Adem, Jean, Carl and Wil were each picked up by one of their Battle Angels and carried over the battlefield to land further up the base of Kerak'Otozi. They could not wield Portal-Magic to take them to the top, it had something to do with Fendinn's Resting Point blocking such Portal-Spells, and it would take hours to reach the summit even with assistance from their Battle Angels. But Adem had summoned Odin to provide the Battle Angels with the ability to remain free from their Resting Points for those hours it took to reach the top. They would be desperately needed to fight off whatever Jinn-Fendinn threw against them during their ascent.

Each of them landed only fifty to a hundred paces apart on the dark rocky slopes. Their Battle Angels hovered close by, as Wil started off sprinting up the mountain side wielding his glowing golden axe. He had the speed of an immortal, his fleet feet finding foot holds to spring from step to step in a blur. Adem watched Wil's golden breastplate; dark Alit'aren coat and trousers, charging up into the distance. Carl vanished via one of his alternative Portal-Magic techniques. Carl had been fortified in this ability when they discovered the Heart of Odin. Perhaps the summoning of Odin here and now was what also made it possible. Whatever the case, Adem spied his crimson armour and wicked red spear flashing upon different rock places as his trusted old companion made his ascent. Carl also wore the Alit'aren coat and trousers, as did Adem with dark blue armour embossed with black serpentine dragons across the chest. He drew his sword that glowed with blue light as he leapt like a giant grasshopper to land almost in line with Carl and Wil after a few jumps. This ability was also heightened by the summoning of Odin, and as he continued to ascend in massive leaping strides, Wings of Odin would flare out of his back while in mid-air, giving him extra distance as he soared upwards towards the peak.

Jean was soon catching up with Tanriel lifting her up on her burning blue wings, in glowing crimson armour and a shining dress of emerald fire. Jean was clutched by the shoulders as the Battle Angel flew to each new level, occasionally setting her down on top of a smooth stone slab as Tanriel scanned for signs of enemies. Jean wore silver armour over a black woollen coat and short skirt, embroidered with white foxes on the hem and sleeves. Her stockings were white wool with knee-high black leather boots. She wielded her neon blue blade, warily looking in every direction for the appearance of High-Servants or Hex-Keepers.

Adem heard the savage growls of demons below; looking back down the mountain to see Nymloc by the thousands scaling the slopes with their sharp claws and sinewy muscles. He was leaping for a higher perch when flares of crimson light appeared at intervals ahead, taking the form of High-Servants and Hex-Keepers in dark robes; their faces hidden beneath shadowed cowls. The Battle Angels reacted, Tanriel hurling down Flame Spears to scorch the demons below, as the others flew to lock blades with the High-Servants, or strike with bars of lightning and fire at the Shield-Spheres of the male and female Generals. Adem waited for Jean to be swept up by Tanriel again, before he leapt higher to keep close by her side. They were making progress, but they still had a long way to climb.

***

Jean watched as Carl's Battle Angel, Math Mathonwy, summoned his Shadow Hounds in a pack of over three hundred, massive dark bodied monsters clawing their way up the mountain sides in an attempt to make a meal of the High-Servants and Hex-Keepers. Arawn also brought Lions into the fray, hundreds of giant beasts formed of flesh and bone with thick shaggy manes; they roared with hunger as they pursued the enemy up the slopes of Kerak'Otozi. Llew's Spirit Wolves of blue flame were charging down the mountain to do battle with the demons that continued to climb in pursuit, biting and clawing through dark scaled flesh in sprays of black blood, crunching bones and skulls in their jaws.

Suddenly a massive boom filled the air, coming from the peak of the mountain. Crimson fire raged at the source, lava flowing down the top of the peak as a more terrible nightmarish roar was heard; deep within the heart of Kerak'Otozi. Jean asked Tanriel with her mind: Is that what I think it is?

The female Battle Angel swooped to pick Jean up by the shoulders; to carry her higher up the mountainside as she sent the reply via the kigare: It is the Return of the Jinn-Lord. We will soon be out of time!

What do you mean, out of time?

If Jinn-Fendinn is able to move freely beyond Kerak'Otozi, nothing in this world will be enough to stop him. Not even the combined might of all the Battle Angels will be enough.

So, what makes you think we can stop him now?

Jinn-Fendinn will still be weak when he first emerges from his Resting Point. We also have Odin to fight at our side at this crucial moment. With Angel-Magic of the Blue Water Dragon combined with Shienden's Dragonfire—

Enough, Tanriel! I get it! No plans, remember! So that is the secret? That is how we are going to win this war?

I'm still not certain if it will work. There may be another factor I have not yet considered. I am only going by my own Lore combined with the Ragnarök Prophecies.

Don't tell Adem! Jean demanded. We can't let him know what to do before he does it. We'll just have to trust to fate!

***

Hayley sat in her grey mare's blue leather saddle surrounded by a heavy guard of warriors, including the survivors of her Martyr Coven, those numbering over one hundred and seventy men and women. The charging heavy cavalry had been assisted with an escape path via Ael Tarael and Alit'aren blasting the foothills with Earth-Fire-Magic and Fire Pythons to blast clear enough space through the demon horde. Hayley summoned Druantia who provided thirty of her Green Men, each one standing over fifteen feet tall via the presence of Odin Lightning-Lord! She could not see the Great Angel in the lightning storm that fell from the clouds above Kerak'Otozi, but Druantia assured her that Odin was up there, and that he would appear to do battle with Jinn-Fendinn when the necessary time arrived.

The lightning storm was proof enough of Odin's presence, appearing to every human eye across the lands, along with the roar of thunder that sounded like a massive chorus of Angel Lions filling the heavens with their call. Druantia called the storm Odin's Awakening.

What does that mean? Hayley asked.

It is a part of the Prophecy. Druantia replied, her Green Men clubbing and stomping demons into dust with wooden fists and feet. Every child born of this storm will be gifted with special abilities, including Adem's heir if the time is near. They will be known as the Children of Odin.

Is that why the Jinn-Lord wants Adem's child? Do they plan to stop the Prophecies coming true?

They seek to alter the Prophecy, forming events in line with the Prophecies of the Shadow. The child being born here, at the peak of Kerak'Otozi, will put a spell of darkness within the heart of Adem's heir. It will be more corruptive than even Jinn-Magic or the curse; the child will always be drawn back to the Jinn-Lord and his schemes.

Then we are already too late? Hayley asked in despair.

There is still a chance we can save the child, and the Princess! This corruption that works within Isabelle's womb is not likely to have an effect on this world until the child is full grown, and even then, it may be many more years before the heir of Highlander is led into darkness.

Hayley was now in such a mood! She drew deeply from terael, fuelling the massive Green Men warriors as they began to smash and crush with greater ferocity, roaring like giant bears of vine and wood, driving demons into the earth with incredible speed and force! Green Dwarves spread from the impact of the blasts in sprays of emerald flame, hacking through demons with a fervour.

Kelderath barked orders and Archers, Aldebrands and Wood Kin formed a perimeter behind Alit'aren shields, the sky was filled with dark arrow shafts that rained down upon the charging demons. Kelderath roared again, 'Alit'aren, Ael Tarael, Earth Fire, Fire Leopards, Fire Pythons and Destruction-Magic! Shields ready! Blades ready! Cavalry form on flanks and prepare for a second charge!'

***

Serock charged through the end of the passes to sprint out on to the open fields of the southern borders of the Free Lands. His mare would need a rest soon, but the hours spent working through those miles of twists and turns had allowed him to recover some of his ability to wield. It was nearing morning, and the werewolves would turn back to human form soon, giving him a chance to put distance between himself and them that they would have trouble trying to regain.

Suddenly his keen immortal ears detected a great explosive noise, the rupturing of the volcanic peak at Kerak'Otozi. His lingering connection to the Magic of Jinn-Fendinn told him this truth deep within his heart and soul. He was nearly free again. Time was running short.

Howls of pursuit echoed through the ends of the passage where he had emerged from. Serock grasped for teron to form Portal-Magic large enough for the horse to bolt through with him mounted and crouching low against her mane. He passed through the shimmering sheet of light to land five miles northeast of his location. Moments later he formed another Portal-Spell, charging through, and then a third, each time jumping at least five miles or more northeast towards the East Lands and Kerak'Otozi. When first light arrived, he would need to give the mare a short rest however, and a drink. He decided he would call her Variha'kathell, which in the Old Torvellen Tongue meant Pale Wind Spirit.

***

Carl warped to a slab of dark stone as the volcano above poured out rivers of flaming hot lava. If Isabelle was up there, at the peak, she would not last long without some form of intervention. Carl launched a spray of crimson fire from the blade of his spear, striking the Shield-Sphere of one of the Hex-Keepers, a male with a dark beard and thick pointed black brows. The man responded by hurling a green lightning bolt at Carl's location, but Carl vanished in a warp of Air-Magic to land on a higher perch, watching below as a Shadow Hound pushed the figure on to the stone slopes, but the General also vanished before the Hound could tear off his skull.

Math Mathonwy swooped down to pick Carl up on wings of red flame; soaring into the air to ascend the mountainside, as did Tanriel with Jean in her arms. Wil still climbed with the speed of an immortal, leaping upwards with the agile grace of a wolf; his form a blur of motion. Adem kept up with those giant leaps as the Wings of Odin flared at his back, wielding his blue sword to lash out with sheets of Fire-Magic against his enemies.

They were all joined in a link, but Jinn-Magic was beginning to corrupt them all. If they had only managed to obtain more of the potion, before their ascent, this mission might have more potential for success. The air was also thick with volcanic ash, a choking atmosphere that burned in the throat. He formed a shield of Air-Magic—like a helmet—around his face and skull, wielding teron to fill the mask with fresh air. He told Math to explain these Angel-Spells to the other Battle Angels, and soon Adem, Wil and Jean were also each wearing a similar breathing apparatus.

He sprayed the demons along the mountainside with beams of crimson Fire-Magic, blazing eruptions of golden-orange flame blossomed within the horde to vaporize flesh; turning bone to dust!

***

Adem leapt high into the sky, Wings of Odin launching him higher to touch ground after moving upwards over thirty paces. Lions and Hounds charged around him on the mountain, gigantic beasts roaring with bloodlust as they spotted hordes of Boli-Kuldr further up the slopes. There were Nymloc amongst them, and Souljhin also, wielding wicked crimson blades that were deadly from the slightest cut.

Adem swept his sword in an arc of blue flames, Fire-Magic flooding upwards through the dark stone in massive blue sheets to slice through demon armour, melt flesh, incinerating bone! He punished them with waves of teron, his attacks spreading outwards in vast rivers of lightning and fire, surging upwards to purge their pathway of demon flesh.

Jinn-Magic was corrupting his mind. Rage filled his heart and soul, mixed with the foulness that plagued teron. He brought Fire Pythons from the sky, wielding in unison with Odin's Awakening; blazing bolts became snapping snake jaws, biting through demon hearts and chests, ripping bodies apart in sprays of dark blood!

Arawn, Llew and Balor were always close by, locking blades with the High-Servants that continued to appear, or hurling bars of Lightning-and-Fire-Magic at their crimson Shield-Spheres. Odin's presence made the Battle Angels stronger and faster than the High-Servants and Hex-Keepers, so the enemy were more a hindrance than a threat at this stage. However, Jinn-Magic was affecting the Battle Angels also. Being this close to the Resting Point of Jinn-Fendinn was increasing the Magic of the Schism. This meant the impure Jinn-Magic was becoming more concentrated.

Balor's giant Spirit Wolf, Shadowhunter, charged up ahead of Adem to attack the Boli-Kuldr horde, ram and bull skulled beasts wailing in terror as he snatched them up in his massive crushing jaws. Lions and Hounds assaulted the demons in force, clawing to shred through flesh with razor claws like sharpened steel; devouring the enemy in savage gulping bites.

Adem soared above his enemies to strike with Blades of Odin, wielding the full force of the link through the enchanted gauntlets. The Blades struck and drove into the rocky slopes to erupt in blasts of liquid-blue flames that tore skin and flesh from bone, slicing bodies apart or burning them to charred husks. His rage surged inside him like his own volcano about to erupt. He now felt the only thing that would return him to a state of calm would be to see Jinn-Fendinn entombed!

***

Tarz was preparing to evacuate the wall defences when a messenger arrived at his side to shout excitedly that a fresh batch of potion had arrived via portal. Tarz did not bother to question the man for long, but he was able to learn that all the Chemist Druids had been assassinated except for the one who had discovered the miracle cure. They had him hidden somewhere and had been preparing more medicine in secret.

Tarz had a number of men test the potion in fear of deception, then he began to bark orders for every Alit'aren and Aldebrand to fill their gourds from the large barrels that had arrived on a number of horse-drawn carts. The barrels were unloaded, and everyone began to fill their gourds and take a swig, all the while the wall being defended by Alit'aren and Ael Tarael Shield-Domes, with Archers, Wood Kin, Aldebrands, and Agnars holding back the demon swarms with arrows of wood and steel or their enchanted blades.

Tarz ordered the Archers, Wood Kin and Aldebrands to cover the walkways, with the Alit'aren lowering their shields to an angle below archer range as over thirty thousand warriors lowered their Lukrorian Bows. 'Archers, Flame Arrows!' The wall came alive with arrows of coloured fire, tens of thousands flying every second from the lines of bowmen that unleashed arrows with the fluid speed attributed only to immortals. The demons were hammered with blazing bolts of light that drove them into the dirt, cutting flesh and armour into a dark mass like melted butter. Skulls exploded, and limbs were torn free on impact, chests imploded in blasts of raw power, annihilating the enemy in a storm of incandescent fire.

'Alit'aren, unleash Fire Pythons and Destruction-Magic! Ael Tarael, Flame Leopards and Earth Fire!' Tarz grinned as the earth and skies lit up with sheets of crimson fire and flickering bolts of blue energy. They would turn the tide of the battle here and now. Ki'mera flowed from the slain demons in floating rivers of coloured light, replenishing the spirits of the warriors that fought with Angel-Magic, providing them with greater abilities as they formed linked chains to increase the strength of their attacks.

Tarz was concerned about the Druid who had created the potion. He wanted to leave his post to ensure the safety of the man, but he could not abandon this battle. If they lost the secret of this miracle cure, these years would surely be known as the beginning of the Age of Chaos.

***

Koncha and his army of Nightwalkers had flown through the night sky towards the Free Lands until the first light appeared on the horizon, thousands of werewolves following along the open fields. They were camped now at the foothills of the great mountain ranges that divided the Southlands from the southern border of the Free Lands. They were still on the south side of the ranges, as the cloud cover surging from the eruptions of Kerak'Otozi were only just now beginning to spill over and head north of the dividing range.

Those clouds would allow Koncha to lead his army north in daylight, to feed on the blood of the Free Landers that had been denied to them for millennia. Jinn-Fendinn was nearly free from Kerak'Otozi. Koncha could feel it in his heart, that old connection to evil in his soul. The sense belonged to the vampire curse in his veins. But Koncha no longer wished to rule alone and without guidance. He was willing to serve the High-Jinn and his High-Servants once again, if it would provide him with new lands for his vampires to feed and increase their numbers. The thought that irked him was that Tairark had managed to escape. Koncha feared the wrath of the other High-Servants when they learnt of his failure. He realised now that he should have killed the former Vampire-King when he had the chance.

A werewolf general in human form marched to his side to report that the Ruhalden King was leading an army to defend the southern side of the Free Lands. 'What are your orders, Lord Koncha?'

Koncha saw blue lightning falling from every corner of the sky, and they had witnessed this storm for a number of hours now as night turned into morning light. Odin's Awakening was upon them also. That could make trouble for his plans, yet here the bolts did not strike with vengeance against his faithful followers. It was however a disturbing display of Angel-Magic, and it made him more than uncomfortable. His scouts reported that even on the northern side of the dividing ranges, the lightning could be seen falling for miles into the distance. It was everywhere, even where there was no cloud cover the bolts fell like pillars of fire. 'Prepare to invade,' Koncha replied. 'Ruhalden blood is a rich delicacy.' The werewolf snorted; he was of the Ruhalden blood before he became infected. 'They will be the first to join us. The Vampire Covens will swell in number once more, as they did many an Age ago. A feast awaits us!'

***

Isabelle sat crouched and in pain near the peak of Kerak'Otozi. Lava flowed around her small island of dark rock; her location protected by a small Shield-Dome with fresh air inside. This suggested they wanted her child to live, and her also, at least to serve as bait until Adem arrived. As she gazed down the massive mountainside, she caught glimpses of the Sons of Odin and the Daughter of Thor rising upwards to her rescue, lightning and flames blossoming around their tiny forms as well as those of their Battle Angels ascending on wings of flame.

They were still so far away; only the eyes of an immortal would be able to make out any detail, other than the glowing halo around dark dots and blankets of erupting fire that launched at their enemies in blazing sheets. Kerak'Otozi was massive, this high up she would not be able to breathe even if the air was pure. It was the highest point in all the Four Lands. Isabelle still had no idea why they had brought her here as bait, but she sensed the evil emanating from the heart of the mountain, and she was terrified it was infecting her child in the womb.

The Shield-Spell also blocked the terrible heat of the fountains of smoke, ash and fire that rose from the tip of the volcano into the morning sky, billowing with clouds that would soon cover the Free Lands if Jinn-Fendinn was not defeated. Suddenly a High-Servant appeared in a warp of crimson Air-Magic, his blood red mask telling her instantly it was Zefriok Hellfiend, one of those who had captured her and murdered her protectors! She screamed at him in outrage. 'What do you want with me, monster?' Zefriok tilted his hooded mask to one side, as if trying to listen through the Shield-Dome, she realised then she would not hear him even if he answered her. Then she noticed faded human apparitions floating towards and on to the same slab of dark stone. In a sudden panic she realised the intent of her captors. Those were possession spirits!

They wanted the Sons of Odin to become mad from Jinn-Magic by the time they reached the summit. Then Adem and his friends would be helpless puppets for these evil spirits to control! She screamed and beat at the shield in fits of terror and rage.

***

Kenith Maldros barked orders at his captains and lieutenants as tens of thousands of Agnars, Aldebrands and Archers manned the wall where demons surged like a dark tide. He had ordered the Alit'aren to cease wielding anything other than shields to protect the warriors defending the walkways, as he feared Jinn-Magic was getting beyond containment in most of them, and there were not enough Ael Tarael provide Healing-Magic for them all in the time needed to continue using Elemental Magic. Despite this problem; that Odin storm was still flaring with blue lightning, everywhere he looked he saw blazing blue tridents falling from the sky, and the roar of thunder ever rolling through the heavens.

During this time that the demon army looked capable of overwhelming their defences, an Ael Tarael had approached with a possible way to hold just a little longer. Lira Tolnock, a beautiful immortal woman, dark of hair and eyes, had made the request for her to form linked chains with male and female wielders, to support her attempts to use mind control over some of the demon horde, via the recently discovered technique known as the Jinn Arts.

It was potentially as dangerous as allowing Alit'aren to wield Angel-Magic without restraint or the curing potion, but he was left with no other choice but to agree to her request. What followed was a surprise, even given his expectations. Lira was able to connect with thousands of Boli-Kuldr that were swarming in the front ranks, controlling their minds to make them her willing servants. Suddenly the eight-and-ten-feet-tall demons were turning to strike at their fellow monsters with a glorious frenzy, massive dark spears, tridents and swords hacking and stabbing through demon flesh as the enemy began to fall back in waves under the unexpected massacre from their own forces!

Maldros would call the test successful from what he could see, yet he clearly noted the terrible strain written on Lira's visage, and that of her female companions joined in the chain. He allowed the demonstration to continue for about twelve minutes, and by that time the enemy were pushed back almost out of bow range. At that time a captain ran to his side to report that a fresh batch of the cure had arrived through a portal! 'What took them so damn long?' Kenith snapped at the captain, and when he heard the reply, he asked, 'How many barrels?'

'Five!' shouted the captain with a fist to chest. 'It is the last of the current batch, General Maldros!'

'Give me one barrel!' Maldros shouted with a grin. 'Get the rest to Kerak'Otozi immediately!' He then ordered that every Alit'aren obtain a full swig of the miracle cure, as well as the Ael Tarael that had just engaged in the Jinn Arts link. They had bought him a few more hours at least. Yet his heart sank as he watched thousands of the slaughtered demons rise up again, biting and clawing against the wave of Boli-Kuldr under mind control. What hope did they have against an army of demons that would not die? 'Alit'aren, I want every man on the wall! Prepare to assault!' His voice was drowned out by the roar of demons advancing in endless waves.

***

Erroll Condallore, King of the Ruhalden Sea Immortals sat his grey stallion at the foothills of the great mountain ranges that divided the Free Lands from the Southlands. He'd brought a vast host of warriors from his surrounding kingdoms to face the vampire plague that was soon to invade. A fierce storm wind was forcing those unnatural clouds to spill northwards into the Free Lands, and soon the vampires would be free to move under its shroud.

Erroll had wielders at his disposal, Ael Tarael, Alit'aren and Aldebrands, but he would not allow them to fight with Angel-Magic as they were yet to receive their first supply of the miracle potion that was said to be a cure. Therefore, their only appointed role was to provide Shield-Magic to protect Erroll and his First Captains. There were not enough wielders to provide Shield-Domes for his entire force; so many had been sent to the Borderlands and other cities that he had to make do with what was left to him. Captain General Mijharz moved his horse to his side to report with fist to chest, 'The vampires are now headed this way, my King.'

'How many are out there?' Erroll asked. He'd sent scouts to get an estimate of the size of the vampire forces.

'More than ten thousand including the werewolves,' Mijharz replied with a grim expression. Erroll groaned in despair at the news. His forces were only fifty thousand strong, and without sufficient number of wielders to protect them, his warriors would provide a feeding ground. 'A report has also arrived that Highlander has invaded the East Lands!'

'Do not speak that name in my presence!' Erroll barked in irritation. 'I will boil Adem Highlander in his boots for breakfast the next time we meet! Unless, he decides to do the honourable thing and marry my daughter!' Erroll would have sought a solution to that travesty long ago if he had not been so caught up with preparations for these approaching battles. It was a shame to his House and his authority as King, the scandal of impregnating his daughter and still refusing to marry her! He clenched his teeth in outrage at the notion.

'But there is more, my King!' Mijharz stammered. 'Reports state that your daughter, Isabelle, has been captured by the High-Servants!'

'What did you just say?' Erroll asked; confounded at the words he had just heard.

'I'm afraid it's true, King Erroll. Highlander has attacked at Kerak'Otozi with a large army to attempt her rescue!'

'If he fails, I'll have him drawn and quartered!' Erroll shouted in frantic anger; feeling suddenly unbalanced by shock. This was ill news, very disturbing indeed. If he did not have his duty here, he would've run horses ragged to reach the East Lands himself. 'I rue the day I ever set eyes on His Majesty the Blue bloody Water Dragon!' His rage was stilled by the sight of hundreds of men and women swarming over the mountain peaks, flying overhead and swooping down towards them with eyes like large black seeds. 'Archers! Spears! Blades at the ready! We hold them back here or the land will surely fall!'

Archers and Aldebrands unleashed waves of dark arrow shafts into the sky, striking chests and skulls with precision as vampire bodies began to fall with a heavy thud! Others reached their targets, flying to pull riders from horseback as their massive fangs tore through necks to drink and spread their evil curse. Werewolves in the hundreds began to pour forth from the mountain paths. Jinn-Fendinn escaping his prison must have been the reason the creatures could change form during the daylight hours, but neither vampire nor werewolf could advance any further than the borders of those clouds. Werewolves could walk in daylight anywhere in human form, but Erroll prayed they were still restricted by the cloud cover to remain in the form of deadly beasts. The vampires would need to feed again if they wished to continue flying, and they required human blood for that ability. That would keep them focused on attacking his forces here, buying some time for the Sons of Odin to do whatever they had planned. He lowered his helmet visor with sword raised high as horns sounded; the cavalry roared as their horses began to charge. What they needed now was a miracle.

The charge crashed head on into a swarm of massive werewolves, snarling and barking as spears stabbed and blades cleaved; horses stomping the demons under hooves. Vampires swooped from the skies, tearing riders from the saddle all around him. Soon his defenders were diminished on all sides, leaving him alone to defend himself from a pack of snarling beasts that charged towards him on all fours! Erroll roared like an old bear as he swung his sword to chop at the skulls of a number of dark-skinned monsters—splitting skulls in a dark spray as the beasts collapsed beside his charging steed—when a larger grey Wolf sprang forth to bite down on his horse's neck. Erroll went flying headfirst out of the saddle, falling with a heavy crunch that assured him his neck was broken.

His next moments were a blur. He stood to survey the battlefield with a blue haze surrounding his form as he began to float off the ground in stunned horror. Mijharz shouted in despair, 'The King is down! Rally to me, men! Summon your courage! Do not let the enemy pass!'

As he began to ascend into a white light in the sky, Erroll thought of his beloved wife who would now live out eternity as a widow, his dear daughter and future grandchild captured by the enemy, and the fate of the world resting on the shoulders of one man.

Highlander, you'd better redeem yourself, son!

***

Serock arrived at the foothills of Kerak'Otozi at the same moments that Kelderath became aware of the fresh supply of potion. 'Good gods, man!' Kelderath cried when he saw the former Vampire-King. 'Where the hell have you been?'

'Where are the Sons of Odin?' Serock asked, still riding bareback on a fine pale altherin mare. The animal was lathered with sweat, though Serock had arrived via Portal-Magic moments before. The horse was still looking agile however, and when Serock explained his purpose, Kelderath offered to supply a fresh mount. Serock waved a hand in refusal, saying, 'She'll get me there, just get me a gourd of that potion, and fill it to the brim!'

When the gourd was provided, Serock took a sip, and then charged for the slopes of the mountain, finding a path to the base via a short distance Portal-Spell that the horse charged through; scaling the mountain with ease. Kelderath watched in awe as the pale horse carried him up the slopes like a grey phantom—Serock was also still able to create short Portal-Spells to carry him and the mare higher at certain intervals, perhaps some link to the Jinn-Lord's Magic that remained in him could be used here, so close to Kerak'Otozi. Within minutes they were lost from his sight.

'I'm glad he's still on our side!' Kelderath barked to Morthros who sat his saddle at his side. 'Prepare another charge! Archers at the ready! Alit'aren, Ael Tarael, drink up if you're thirsty!'

He was considering exactly how he would make this demon army suffer when Orion Demon-Slayer was at his side, his wife Elmira, and Tobin and Lydia with him also. 'I need one of those Alit'aren that can create Portal-Spells!' Orion shouted over the bloodthirsty roar of demons.

'What do you have in mind?' Kelderath asked, he needed men and women like these four here to fight for him, but when Orion explained his purpose, Kelderath grinned like an old lion ready for the battle of his life.

'Elarja is desperately needed here and now,' Orion said before he departed, 'or else I would use his ability to the same end. I will not fail you! We shall return!'

Chapter 20

Heroes Old and New

Adem had Isabelle in sight! He leapt into the air, Wings of Odin carrying him over fifty feet higher than his incredible jump would normally achieve, landing beside her on the small stone island where lava poured in rivers to either side. Kerak'Otozi roared as fire and lava flowed forth, ash clouds flowing into the sky that were pushed by a fierce wind at this height.

Isabelle was encased in a shield, she was bashing at the invisible wall with her fists frantically and trying to warn him of something, but he could not hear a word from inside that bubble of Fire-and-Air-Magic. Carl, Wil and Jean soon caught up, carried the final distance by Math, Dis Pater and Tanriel on wings of crimson, golden and aqua flame. Adem tried to destroy the Shield-Dome by pressing in around it with the Fists of Odin. Sparks flew around the globe in response, he focused flows of teron into the sphere, but he did not have time to figure out if it would work.

High-Servants and Hex-Keepers were suddenly all around them! Adem lashed out with bars of liquid-blue flame, striking a High-Servant's Shield-Spell, then another at Calliestra Shadow-Heart that was also blocked by a wall of Air-Magic. What occurred next was all out chaos! Jean, Adem, Carl and Wil were hurling arcs of coloured fire from their enchanted weapons, the Battle Angels also joining in to blast the mountainside with rupturing balls of flame wherever the enemy appeared. The High-Servants and Hex-Keepers fought back, throwing lightning and fire that struck Shield-Magic, the abilities of Adem and his friends were now also significantly enhanced by the presence of their Battle Angels.

Adem was distracted from his attempt to rescue Isabelle—and this battle had continued for some time, Jinn-Magic driving Adem and his friends closer to the brink of madness—when Zefriok Hellfiend appeared behind her Shield-Spell, waving his dark gauntlet as both he and Isabelle vanished in a warp of Air-Magic. Panic struck Adem as Arawn confirmed via the kigare that she was now deep within the heart of Kerak'Otozi. He did not waste a moment; his friends were still locked in battle, hurling energies that surged through the dark rocks towards their enemies, when Adem harnessed the bulk of Angel-Magic of their link, Wings of Odin bursting from his shoulders to spread to either side of his form.

He launched high into the sky, soaring up the last distance to the peak of the volcano where smoke, ash and flames surged upwards. With a Shield-Sphere surrounding his form, filled with sufficient air inside of it, Adem plunged headfirst into the fires of the volcano! As he descended into darkness with the funnel of fire at the centre of the massive tunnel, the surging light within began to change colours, from crimson to golden, emerald to aqua and violet, then white as starlight. Arawn, Llew and Balor soared down within the tunnel also, keeping close by his side as they sought out Isabelle's location.

The heat of the tunnel was excruciating despite the Shield-Magic, Adem felt his flesh was being stripped from his bones, his bones turning to ashes, his soul melting into oblivion ... he fell endlessly ... incredible pain filled his heart and soul ... he wanted to scream, but there was no sound ... only the voice of Jinn-Fendinn: SO, YOU HAVE COME TO MEET YOUR DOOM, HIGHLANDER! YOUR SUFFERING WILL BE ETERNAL ONCE I HAVE YOU IN MY GRASP! YOU WILL BURN, SON OF ODIN! YOU WILL BURN FOR ALL ETERNITY!

Adem saw the massive dark shape of a muscular human form emerging from the pits below, carved by a red haze. Fendinn had eyes of golden flame within dark sockets, the skull of a ram with twisted black horns! Adem raised his fists to strike with twin Blades of Odin! Fifty feet long swords of blue fire struck Fendinn in his chest, lightning pulsing around the massive black chest and torso.

YOU ARE WEAK, SON OF ODIN! NOTHING YOU TRY TO DO WILL BE ENOUGH TO HALT MY DESTRUCTION OF THIS WORLD! SOON, I SHALL BE FREE AGAIN! CHAOS WILL RULE KISMERIA! ALL WILL BEG TO SERVE, OR BE CRUSHED LIKE WORMS!

Despite the bold words, the Jinn-Lord fell through the endless tunnel of shadows, Adem also descending, but with a vengeance. Four Blades of Odin blasted through Fendinn's chest! Fire Serpents entwining his shadow form as he roared like a pride of lions.

YOU CANNOT WIN! I WILL DESTROY YOU AND YOUR BROTHERS NO MATTER WHAT TRICKS YOU MAY ATTEMPT! I HAVE YOUR SON! HE SHALL BE MY SWORD AND SHIELD WHEN HE COMES OF AGE! HE WILL SERVE THE SHADOW AND WREAK HAVOC IN MY NAME!

Adem roared in outrage! Six Odin Blades struck in a spinning diamond formation, slicing through Fendinn's chest as they both descended into shadows and flame.

***

Carl swung in a leftwards slash with his crimson spear, sheets of red flame flowing in an arc towards a Dark General, Ogrell Light-Blinder, dark of eyes with a close-cropped black beard. Ogrell met the attack with a Shield-Sphere, the flames swarming around the man as he prepared to retaliate. Yet Carl was gone before the man hit back with a bar of emerald flame, Carl dodging the attack by warping to a higher position on the mountainside; throwing a wave of molten liquid at the stone where Ogrell still stood, though the man also vanished in a warp before the attack reached him.

Carl spun to face Torkhan, the High-Servant's eyes of flame burning within the silver skull mask that covered his ruined face. Both lashed out with bolts of lightning, Carl's blue Fire Serpents that locked jaws around the ball of green energy that flew from Torkhan's fists. The two attacks pulsed and flared between them, each standing over twenty feet from the centre where the energies clashed, until the colliding attacks exploded in a blast of crimson and green sparks, both men vanished before the impact spread outwards in a large sphere.

Carl met him again higher up the slope of Kerak'Otozi. Here, on this side of the mountain, the lava flows were not extreme, though it flowed in vast channels down the opposite side. Carl, Jean and Wil still required their Battle Angels at times to lift them up and place them on a safer perch, the dark stones melting under the rivers of molten liquid that formed impassable pathways as it flowed from the peak.

Math Mathonwy soared above him now, wielding his Hellfire Spear to blast High-Servants with sheets of fire that raged across the stone surface in a surging conflagration. Angus also kept close to Carl, providing him with a stronger Shield-Sphere in case Carl was not able to dodge any sudden attacks. The Shield-Magic also provided air to breathe, protection from the heat of the volcano, but more importantly Angus also provided Healing-Magic to Carl's mind and body via one of his unique abilities, rejuvenating his spirit and that of Jean and Wil when they were in range of one of his enchanted spheres. At the same time Angus swung his glowing staff; launching bolts of emerald fire at the High-Servants and Hex-Keepers. If it weren't for the presence of their Battle Angels joining in the attack, Carl, Wil and Jean would already be defeated.

There were at least seven High-Servants that constantly appeared to attack then vanished again via their unique Portal-Magic. There were also three female Hex-Keepers and four males that joined in the assault. Most were kept occupied by the four male and two female Battle Angels still at their disposal, yet Carl wished he still had Arawn, Llew and Balor to assist them also.

Adem had been a fool to fly into Fendinn's lair! It was surely a trap, and he might not be able to escape. Carl, Jean and Wil had considered going after him—discussing an attempt via their Battle Angels through the kigare—but Adem was on his own now. They had to remain here to do what they could to slow Fendinn from breaking free from the mountain. Carl worried that there was possibly very little they were capable of, due to Arig's advice that only Adem, Odin and Shienden had any real potential to do the Jinn-Lord any harm.

He struck again at Torkhan, crimson and emerald energies clashing in another blast of flames. He shifted a hundred metres northeast of his position; even here the tip of the volcano was a vast surface that appeared flatter than curved when standing on the slopes. The lightning storm of Odin's Awakening still filled every corner of the sky, combating the emerging Magic of Jinn-Fendinn.

Carl vanished again before Torkhan's waves of molten fire avalanched his position from higher up, landing behind the High-Servant to drive his spear through the back of his crimson Shield-Sphere. Fire-Magic erupted from the tip of the spear within the shield, Torkhan roared in outrage as flames surged across his shadow cloak. He vanished again before Carl could wield again, but here at Kerak'Otozi the High-Servants and Generals were enhanced in attack strength and defence, by their proximity to the Jinn-Lord.

***

Wil stood upon a stone wedge with lava streaming down either side. A white bearded Hex-Keeper appeared twenty paces ahead, immediately throwing a bar of emerald lightning at Wil that was blocked by a Shield-Spell. Wil roared as he swung his golden axe, amber fire launched in an arc to sweep towards the Dark General, striking a crimson shield as the shadow cloaked figure vanished in a warp.

Wil leapt to a higher stone slab as Zefriok appeared in the sky, aiming his crimson blade as sheets of red lightning launched towards Wil's location. Dis Pater was suddenly flying to attack the High-Servant, his massive golden axe striking a crimson Shield-Sphere as Zefriok fought back with fists of flame, his red blade locking with Dis Pater's axe; crimson and golden lightning blasted from the weapons, striking the side of the mountain to rupture in balls of flame.

Wil had been saved by the Shield-Magic again, enhanced by his Battle Angels; it was enough to withstand multiple attacks from High-Servants and Generals. The problem, Wil realised, was that he was being forced to wield too much of teron, and his senses were feeling the pressure of Jinn-Magic on his mind. Soon it might be too much for him to stand. They desperately needed Jean to provide Healing-Magic to reduce the symptoms, but she was constantly being chased by the female Hex-Keepers as she fought back desperately with Elemental Magic.

Even Jean was at risk while exerting so much Angel-Magic. The curse on terael was still not properly studied or understood in its potential effects, but Wil could sense her strain to endure the shadows that would be constricting upon her heart and mind, though the curse on male and female magic was a spiritual infection, in the case of Carl and Wil, they knew the dangers. If Adem did not return soon with a sign of victory, this battle would drive the Sons of Odin into complete and irreversible madness. Only the miracle cure could have any hope of restoring them to stability, and up here, there was no hope of obtaining a single drop.

He charged along the mountainside, his feet so fast he would appear as a blur to the human eye. Fire-Magic struck the ground in front of him, moving towards him in bubbling waves of magma. He turned to see another blast strike from behind, both moving towards him as he reinforced his Shield-Magic to meet the attacks. Bran swooped down to lift him high above the flames as they began to strike his Shield-Sphere. Wil watched the Fire-Magic cover the mountain where he'd been standing, more attacks from High-Servants hovering in the skies.

Adem, whatever you're trying to do down there; get it done!

***

Serock charged up the massive dark mountain with the speed of a storm wind. The horse was swift even for altherin, and the sprint towards Kerak'Otozi had still left the animal capable of moving with supernatural agility as it scaled the craggy dark stones. Serock created portals every chance he was able, using up vast stores of his own ability to wield to reach the summit in enough time to achieve his aims.

There were still demons this high up, Boli-Kuldr and Nymloc positioning their ranks in wedges that served as large dark barriers as he continued to climb, and he did not have the strength to lash out at them with teron. His only option was to bypass them with Portal-Magic, and so far, this technique had saved him a number of times, as he was able to jump at least far enough to avoid confronting the demons or getting within range of their blades and spears.

He whispered in the mare's ear in Aelfin Tongue, urging it onwards and upwards. This climb may kill the horse from exhaustion, but it would be for a most worthy cause, countless lives may be saved by her sacrifice. The horse charged through another Portal-Spell that carried her hundreds of feet higher, though here at Kerak'Otozi, Serock was limited in how far he could jump with such Angel-Spells. It was only his old spiritual connection to the Magic of the High-Jinn that made it possible for him to create Portal-Spells at all. This lingering connection was an important part of his plan, a link to the Shadow that might be of some vital use if he could reach the mountaintop in time.

He spotted another Boli-Kuldr horde gathered up ahead, and he had no strength left at this point to form another Portal-Spell. He changed course, charging sideways across the rock surface in an attempt to find another passage. The demons spotted him also, their guttural cries filling his ears as he bolted to avoid their falling spears.

***

Adem soared upwards through endless darkness ... eternal suffering drenched his bones ... he felt that his bones were burning, his flesh being stripped from bone ... below him Fendinn rose as a massive shadow with the skull of a ram, eyes glowing hot crimson.

GIVE IN, SON OF ODIN! MY POWER SURPASSES YOU! YOU ARE WEAK! YOU ARE NOTHING! THERE IS NO HOPE FOR YOU, OR FOR THIS WORLD! WHEN I ACHIEVE VICTORY, I WILL MAKE YOU MY PUPPET TO BATHE KISMERIA IN BLOOD AND TURMOIL!

Adem pointed his palms down flat, Blades of Odin falling to strike Fendinn in the skull, electric blue bolts coursing around his shadow flesh. But the Jinn-Lord laughed, his terrible voice echoed through the endless caverns.

YOU HAVE NO POWER TO DESTROY ME! MY VICTORY IS AT HAND! SURRENDER TO ME AND I SHALL SPARE YOU FURTHER TORMENT!

Eight Blades of Odin struck in a diamond, piercing the Jinn-Lord in the chest as the massive dark claw reached for him... He continued to soar upwards through the shadows, carried by Wings of Odin ... Endless pain filled his heart and soul ... Eternal suffering.

Adem shouted through the pain, 'Give me back my son!' Fendinn laughed again, the sound resonated like a gale force wind, carrying the stench of decay.

YOU WILL LOSE HOPE BEFORE THE END! YOUR DESPAIR WILL BE MY TRIUMPH! GIVE UP, SON OF ODIN! YOU CANNOT WIN!

***

Orion, Elmira, Lydia and Tobin arrived at Tarvel with the Alit'aren Ellori Kane who had created the Portal-Magic. They opened the Portal-Spell inside a heavily bolted vault within secret tunnels in high chambers of the castle, known only to Orion and Elmira and a handful of Torvellen Lords and Ladies. The passageways were built when the castle was first constructed, though even the immortal builders who had taken part in their design and construction would be long gone from history.

However, the item Orion was searching for was not in the vault. The chest where it had been stored was flung open with the lock broken, suggesting a wielder had been involved in the theft, as the lock was protected by dangerous Lock-Magic that would cause the one who opened the lock to explode into ash and fire. Whatever the case, the Harp of Souls had been taken! Orion groaned as he inspected the lock to assure himself that whoever had opened it must have had some knowledge of how to disable the deadly triggers.

'Who else knew that we had the Harp stored here?' Elmira asked with concern.

'I told no one!' Orion snapped. Carl Wilder had helped him hide the precious talisman; he was the only other person aware of its location. 'It must have been one of those lords and ladies contesting for the Torvellen Throne.' That worried Orion to even contemplate, given that Adem had explained of rumours that High-Servants and Hex-Keepers were disguising themselves as some of those leaders to manipulate the people of Torvis. When Orion mentioned this theory, Tobin asked, 'Do you think it is still here, in the castle?'

'That is the question we must answer,' Orion replied. 'We must find out who took it!'

***

Serock was approaching the peak of the mountain. Battle Angels and High-Servants filled the skies, battling with weapons that erupted in lightning blasts; scorching the rock surface on impact. Lava flowed in thin rivers on this side, in other places the streams were wider, but his mare swiftly made it close to Carl Wilder who was holding his ground against Baidel, one of the male Hex-Keepers with hard dark eyes. Baidel was trying to overpower the Son of Odin as bolts of energy launched between them to shatter in a roar of sparks.

Serock raised his fist from horseback, crimson light flaring between his fingers as Baidel began to cry out in pain before vanishing in a warp. Serock still had some capacity to overpower his former associates. When Carl locked eyes with him, Serock held out the potion, throwing the gourd at the Son of Odin.

'What are you doing here?' Carl asked with shock written on his face. He caught the gourd and opened the stopper to sniff the liquid, staring at Serock as he said, 'We were told the vampires were holding you captive.' Then he held the gourd out in front of him as he asked, 'Is this the cure, or poison?'

'I was a prisoner, but I escaped!' Serock pleaded. 'It is the cure! I am still on your side. You must drink, Carl Wilder, there are possession spirits all around you! If you lose your senses, they will overpower you!'

Carl gazed about warily, taking a moment to measure the risks before he said, 'If this is a trick, it is your soul that will suffer for it.'

'I swear, Carl Wilder, by all the Angels, in the name of God, I am here to save you! You must drink and convince the others!' Serock saw that Jinn-Magic was already damaging Carl's mind. He scanned the mountain to spot Wil and Jean in combat with Hex-Keepers, fire unleashed from their weapons in raging waves. A moment later Carl took a small sip, and then Serock watched as his eyes bulged, the look of a clear mind returning to his face. 'Yes! Yes, do you see now? Drink more! Then get it to your friends! But where is Highlander?'

Carl took another large gulp and wiped his lips before he replied in an irate tone, 'He has gone down inside the mountain.' Serock groaned at his words. Even he was not capable of getting inside to assist Highlander or provide him with the cure. Highlander would be locked in combat until Jinn-Magic made him helpless to resist being possessed. It seemed obvious to him now that the Jinn-Lord was going to win.

'There is something more, Carl Wilder!' Serock shouted. 'When I give the signal, you must allow me to join with your link, between you, Adem, Wil and Jean.'

'That would be dangerous,' Carl replied. 'What is the reason for it?'

'I do not hold the secret to sealing the High-Jinn in Kerak'Otozi,' Serock replied, 'but I have some of his Jinn-Magic, that will play an important role. Fendinn cannot see and hear through my mind; I can block him with my old abilities. If I tell you the secret, he will know, and the plan may not work! But it is vital knowledge that I hold! I swear to you that this is the truth!' Serock watched as the plan took shape in the mind of Carl Wilder.

'What will be your signal?'

***

Orion entered a large chamber filled with Torvellen warriors, Aldebrands, Agnars and Steel Guard armed and armoured. They had learnt that the man known as Lord Haimlad, an aged Torvellen ruler had taken the Harp of Souls. Here Haimlad sat in a throne at the heart of the chamber; dark hawk eyes with a nose like a chiselled beak, white at his temples like bristling feathers. He wore dark armour embossed with Grey Falcons, the sigil of House Haimlad, but Orion was certain the man was an imposter.

Haimlad clutched the Harp of Souls to his chest as Orion entered with Elmira, Lydia and Tobin following, along with Ellori Kane. They sensed immediate hostility from the warriors in the room, whether they were compelled by some dark spell or just loyal to their leader, Orion could not tell. He did however sense their uncertainty as Orion began to speak with Haimlad.

'Lord Haimlad, you must hand over the Harp!' Orion began. 'Our forces face a vast demon horde at Kerak'Otozi. The Sons of Odin and Daughter of Thor are locked in combat with High-Servants and Hex-Keepers.' He emphasised the words 'High-Servants,' as he was almost certain this man was in fact Harkrost Soul-Blinder. Harkrost had always been one to use clever disguises, and he was a tactical man when he lived another life in service to the All-Father. 'But you already know this, don't you?' Orion grinned in a dangerous way, giving Harkrost the understanding that they would fight if necessary, to obtain the Harp. The five of them shared a link and had done before entering the room.

Angel-Magic flowed strongly through Orion's veins, yet the corruption on teron was latent violence that he strained to endure. 'Tell me, Lord Haimlad, where did you and I first meet? What were your words to me then?' It was a clever question, as the conversation had been in private, when Orion was a young boy with his life turned to ashes after the murder of his mother and father. Orion remembered well how Lord Haimlad had told Orion that he 'would one day have to learn to judge the value of the Law,' in reference to a belief that Orion may one day become King of the Torvellen. Harkrost's face contorted at the question, a confounded expression on the Illusion-Magic of Haimlad's visage.

'I do not quite clearly recall, Orion Demon-Slayer. Forgive me.'

'You are a lying imposter!' Orion shouted, tension building in the warriors as fingers gripped spear hafts and sheathed sword hilts. Orion knew they would not attack their former King, however. Torvellen loyalty ran deep in the blood of his people, but here they were torn between two rulers, and their expressions revealed internal conflict.

This also confirmed something else for Orion. Jinn-Fendinn and his minions may be able to see through his eyes and hear via his ears, but evidently, they could not read his mind, or else Harkrost would have the answer. It was possible that only Fendinn had this ability if any of them, and it therefore seemed likely there was no telepathy between Fendinn and his High-Servants. If Harkrost needed to know what someone was thinking, he would need to obtain that information from the Jinn at Kerak'Otozi.

Harkrost stood, still clutching the Harp to his chest as he shouted, 'Kill them all! They are traitors to the rightful ruler of Torvis! Strike hard and fast; drench these halls with their blood!' But no one moved, all eyes were on Orion, he stood tall and proud, knowing his eyes would be shooting off sparks as they locked with Harkrost. In that moment, Orion felt the Aldebrands in the room open themselves to join in his link. He instinctively allowed over thirty to add to his chain—combined with Lydia and Elmira as well as another four Ael Tarael who stood further back behind the male warriors, to increase the density of the force of the link—giving him the strength to Shield-Trap even one of the Hex-Warlords!

Harkrost wailed as Shields of Air-Magic locked in around him, forcing his arms to his sides as the Harp fell with a heavy clang! The Shield-Trap also cut Harkrost off from Angel-Magic completely, the moment it was achieved; there was no chance that he might escape. Orion strode defiantly towards the High-Servant, who was now in his true form, a hooded cloak of shadows revealing an un-masked face that was grey like crumbling ashes, though his dark empty eye sockets flared with golden rage. Even with such a powerful link, Harkrost must have been temporarily weakened to be so easily overpowered. Orion considered that perhaps Harkrost had been the first to become wounded by Highlander's Odin Spear during the attack at Nordhel when the Sons of Odin had first arrived in Kismeria. What better way to lick your wounds and still work the Jinn-Lord's schemes than to pose as a Torvellen ruler to try to obtain influence over a nation.

'Behold your Lord Haimlad!' Orion shouted as all stared in shock and realisation. Orion drew his sword, the golden light flicked in a horizontal flare to sever the High-Servant's neck from his shoulders. As the body fell to spill dark blood onto the paved flooring, Orion lifted the Harp and turned to the warriors, saying; 'You would be welcome to join the fight, though I cannot lead you. You will do it for your own reasons, for honour and duty.' Even entering Tarvel without one of the Sons of Odin or the Daughter of Thor was against Jean Fairsythe's decree, for which they may one day be punished. But these were desperate times. He had no choice but to act. The warriors began to cheer his name, shouting, 'Orion, slayer of Hex-Warlords!'

***

Kelderath was winning, driving the demons back with Alit'aren and Aldebrands wielding their Elemental Magic. But the demons were still not dying, not all of them. Hope rested on Highlander restoring balance to the land. Lightning-Arrows flew horizontal from thousands of Lukrorian Bows, blasting demons with powerful energies that tore through bone and melted flesh! Alit'aren were wielding Earth-Fire-Magic and Fire Pythons, and the Ael Tarael assisted with the newly discovered Jinn Arts to control Rahkwel and Boli-Kuldr, turning them against their own kind.

The battle was enormous, his hundred thousand warriors holding back a dark sea of scales and muscular plated hides, bull and ram skulls with eyes of coloured flame shining wicked in the grey midday haze. Time was of the essence also; their supply of the potion was running dry. He'd used a large portion to provide the Aldebrands with stable minds to allow them to use their enchanted bows. That had been of good use so far, cutting down tens of thousands of demons; melting armour and flesh into a mass like burning tar.

The enemy was being driven back towards Kerak'Otozi, though he needed to keep them fighting here to avoid them scaling the mountain slopes. That many demons would be too much for the Sons and Daughter to battle up there alone, even if their Battle Angels remained at their sides.

Kelderath was barking orders when a dark shadow loomed before him. He was standing now with his sword drawn, and he brandished the shining steel at Calliach's dark cowl as he cried, 'Not now, man! I'm busy! Come back later!'

But it was hopeless to resist. He decided then that if this one part of the balance could be restored, perhaps it would be a good thing. He turned to Morthros as he shouted, 'You're taking over command here! Do not fail me!' Morthros gazed up at the dark spectre with a stunned expression, and then swallowed the lump in his throat before he began to shout commands. Hundreds of warriors were swarming to Kelderath's defence when he raised his left palm flat and high as he shouted, 'Do not interfere!' Then he gazed up at Death with arms spread wide as he said, 'I am ready then! Do it if you must! But spare me this one favour, do your work and make those demons die already!' Calliach nodded, his dark hood lowering in acquiescence; the next moment that crimson scythe slashed to take Kelderath's breath from his lungs.

He was still standing in the form of a blue glare when he watched his own body collapse. There was no blood on his corpse. His soul had simply been ripped from flesh and bone. Suddenly memories came flooding back to him, and Kelderath could recall the last time he had died and met with his darling wife in the High Realm. He rejoiced to hear her voice again, calling his name!

He was floating upwards into a light brighter than the lightning storm, when he gazed down to see tens of thousands of demons reduced to blood and bones, ash and sulfur. Death had kept his word. The tide of the battle had been turned. 'Glorious!' he shouted with vigorous delight, though he knew that only Calliach could hear his words. 'Thank you, oh mighty spirit!' Kelderath called to the shadow as it swept through the demon ranks, crimson blade reaping the harvest. Moments later; that had seemed like an eternity—no longer feeling a part of the world of flesh, his spirit revived by the tenderness of his wife's love, and the glory of the Magic of the All-Father—Kelderath heard harp strings, three vibrant plucks that vibrated in the air like the wail of a thousand ghosts. It was the call of the Harp of Souls! He still had a purpose in this war!

***

Elmira watched as her husband played the strings of the Harp of Odin, the sound emanating to awaken her senses like seeing starlight, the crunch of morning frost under foot, the taste of calcium and an ice-cold river washing over her naked skin; the scent of moss gathering on stone. A great tunnel of lightning and shadows appeared, swirling in an upright vortex as fog billowed out across the earth.

The cry of the Heroes of the Harp of Souls filled the air as over three hundred riders fanned out through the lightning tunnel, beings of light and shadows, emanating Angel-Magic of eternal spirits that could rise beyond the grave. The air was cool, crisp, a moment frozen in time as the thunder of horse hooves sounded at their approach. The riders gathered on the hillside surrounding Orion, Lydia, Tobin and herself. Elarja was also close by, and he received many nods of acknowledgement from these benevolent spirits.

She smiled to see Jothar Kelderath as one of the first ghosts to appear, on a shining white horse, the great captain wore armour of burnished gold with a massive spear of amber fire in his fist, a broadsword golden hilt shining above his shoulder. The old man was smiling too, grinning was the word. He would be glad to be able to strike another blow against the Jinn-Lord and his forces.

It was overwhelming to be in the presence of these beings, to see their faces; being haunted by ancient Heroes. There was a woeful longing in her soul as she gazed upon their ranks, Rodin Cloud-Walker—who was Elarja's father according to legend, and she noticed the looks that passed between those two—in a robe of blue fire; dark hawk beak of a nose and sharp eyes under thick black pointed brows. The first King of the Nordics appeared noble and wise, brandishing a spear of aqua flame that glowed with Magic that spoke of Odin's eminent presence. Egron Blue-Fox rode at his side on a pale stallion, dark blue shining armour with twin sword hilts rising from his shoulders. Today the ghost had hair white as snow, a flowing white beard fanning to his waist that glowed like starlight.

During this time the Alit'aren and Aldebrands still drove the enemy into retreat, the demon horde greatly cowed by the sudden deaths of so many of their kind. Death was performing an act of retribution, and they could spare a moment to bathe in the glory of perceivable victory over the Shadow. Terese and Arig were soon at her side, both glowing with the light of the Heroes of Will, Arig's bow like red lava, Terese's blade drawn; white fire burning within the steel. They both rode phantom horses also, Arig's dark shadows and Terese a pale mare. This suggested that perhaps they were returning to the Harp of Souls, to serve the All-Father once more. Elmira tried not to weep at the loss. Terese had become like a sister.

'It is time to end this war!' Rodin shouted with restrained rage. 'The Shadow must be defeated! Who will ride with us to drive this scourge from the land?' Tens of thousands of mounted warriors cheered in response, the sound of hope and courage in their cries. Aldebrands brought Elmira, Orion, Lydia and Tobin their horses; Elarja also climbed into the saddle.

The Heroes of Will roared in response, a haunting sound that shook the earth and spoke of the eternal struggle of God's men and women locked in combat against the Corruptor. Now was not a time to despair. They had a chance. There was still some hope left in the world, some strength in the Angel-Magic of the Elements, and they had Odin Lightning-Lord on their side, with heroes old and new who were still willing to fight against evil. It was definitely not over yet!

Chapter 21

Elemental Lore

Adem fell through endless depths of shadows and fire ... Jinn-Fendinn fell also, but from higher up, the muscular shadow wreathed in a red haze.

YOU CAN NEVER DEFEAT ME! I HOLD JINN-MAGIC TO DESTROY YOU ALL! GIVE UP, SON OF ODIN! I WILL ALLOW YOU TO SERVE AT MY SIDE, IF YOU GRANT ME THE ANGEL-MAGIC YOU HOLD! THIS WAR CAN THEN BE OVER!

Those last words unfolded a secret within Adem's mind. He heard something in the voice of Fendinn at the last; it was the sound of fear. Wings of Odin flared from his shoulders. He began to soar upwards towards the great shadow form, Blades of Odin spinning in a diamond of six blazing swords that sliced through Fendinn as bolts of blue lightning pulsed around his chest and torso.

'You are a liar!' Adem shouted. 'Every word is a lie! Father of Lies! You revel in the despair you may bring upon us, because you love despair! Lord of Hate! You think it is your blessing to see us suffer, with the death and plunder that you cause in this world, and in every world, Maker of Sorrow!' Blades of Odin flared from his fists, striking Fendinn again and again, the lightning that flared from the Blades increasing in strength, as if Adem's rage fuelled their Elemental Lore. 'When you speak of the war, you are talking about the eternal war, between God's men, and you! You are the Master of Corruption, the Shadow and the Great Evil! You are Lucifer! You are the Devil!'

Fendinn roared in pain and outrage as he ascended through the tunnel of shadow and fire, and Adem believed he heard possible defeat, the sound was of a thousand howling wolves. Then the Jinn-Lord soared higher, much faster. In a crimson flare that was almost blinding to Adem, the Jinn-Lord vanished. But Adem knew he was not defeated; he knew that Fendinn must now be able to rise from the mountain.

The tunnel had returned to a massive funnel rising up around that flaring column of flame. It changed colours as he soared upwards alongside it. Arawn, Llew and Balor were then visible from higher up, swooping down beside him with lightning speed. Adem sent them his orders via the kigare: You must find Isabelle!

He flew randomly throughout the gigantic cavern, searching every crevice in the rock as he shouted; 'Isabelle! My darling, it's Adem! I'm here to rescue you! Where are you?'

***

Carl warped to land beside Wil, his friend was free from conflict for the moment, but when Carl saw his face, he saw a struggle for mastery over the corruption on his mind. 'Drink this!' Carl shouted over the thunder, as he forced the gourd towards Wil's lips. Wil took the potion, holding it as he gave Carl an odd stare as he replied, 'I'm not sure, Carl. Is it safe?'

'Take you meds, Wil, damn it! Drink, man! It is the cure!'

Wil finally conceded to the demand and took a heavy swig, his eyes flaring with realisation as sanity returned to his stricken visage. 'What about Jean?' Wil asked; then he handed the potion back to Carl.

'She has already had a sufficient amount!' Carl shouted. 'It's Adem I'm worried about!' Jean had been more than willing to accept the potion once Carl assured her it was safe. She continued to battle with the female Hex-Keepers, Fearen and Calliestra were currently circling Jean and her Battle Angels trying to form a pincer movement with scorching wave attacks.

Suddenly the entire mountain began to tremble, like an earthquake of immense proportions. Carl looked to the tip of the volcano to see a massive dark claw reaching out to grip the sides where lava still flowed. 'Fendinn is nearly free!' Carl shouted to Wil. 'We must try to hold him back until Adem returns! Do you think we could try to meld with Math Mathonwy and Dis Pater again?'

'The Odin Storm may make it possible,' Wil replied.

'I think it's our only hope!' Carl shouted. They both sent the request out to their Battle Angels. Carl breathed a sigh of relief when Math and Dis Pater appeared beside them, crimson and golden wings flaring at their landing that morphed to become their spear and axe. Carl raised his arms, spreading them out wide with the crimson spear flaring in his fist. Wil did the same, his golden axe flaring like a small sun as Dis Pater stepped forward to meld with his form.

As Math Mathonwy moved to join with Carl's form, Carl was nearly blinded by the flash of silver lightning that surrounded him. He felt that he was somewhere else for that moment, an endless space of white fire. Then he was standing within the chest of the massive figure of blue and white lightning that coursed around his flesh like a shield of fire. He moved his spear, and Math's massive spear moved in unison, only now it was a shaft of burning gold that pulsed with a crimson flare.

Wil also stood within the form of Dis Pater; the two of them joined in mind and spirit had transformed into a similar structure standing fifteen feet tall, formed of golden lightning with a massive jade axe; golden bolts blazing around the weapon.

Carl crouched, as crimson wings flared about the giant that was Math and himself—at the same time Wil's lightning form sprouted wings of golden fire—and they launched into the air to soar above the rising shadow that now had both claws gripping the side of the volcano. Carl shuddered to see the ram skulled face of the Jinn-Lord appear in the centre of those claws, a massive shadow beast with eyes like fangs of flame.

Carl aimed the Spear at Fendinn's skull, a neon beam of white fire encased in a crimson glow struck the dark shadow form. Wil hurled a bar of emerald flame that flared with golden emanation from a swing of his axe. The attacks seemed to enrage Fendinn, as a terrible roar filled the air. To Carl's amazement, their assault also seemed to stun the Jinn-Lord for a moment, as its form fell back into the tunnel, black claws fighting for a grip.

Carl and Wil continued to strike with similar attacks, bolts of liquid-flame—a bar of ice-cold steel—that burnt through the shadow flesh of the Great Enemy. But Carl was certain it would only delay the Return. They needed Adem, desperately, and now! He sent messages to Adem via their Battle Angels, but Math replied that he could not sense his Brothers within the mountain, they could not communicate. Carl could sense Adem's emotions however; he knew his friend must be desperately searching for Isabelle. There was nothing more they could do but stand and fight and hope that he made it out soon.

***

Jean gazed around in wonder as Terese and Arig suddenly appeared on either side of her, and she shook with emotion as she saw the light and shadows that emanated from their bodies and the horses they rode. 'Terese, what has happened to you?' Jean asked as tears streamed down her cheeks. 'Are you a ghost again?'

'Do not cry for me, Jean Fairsythe,' Terese replied in a benevolent tone. 'I have the knowledge and power now to defend your life when it matters most. I would not sacrifice that for anything else I might have achieved as my weakened reincarnation. Yes, the Harp of Souls has summoned us back! Perhaps it was this Odin Storm, or perhaps our purpose is at an end. I believe I have served you well as your protector and advisor, and I have taught you the importance of your role as the Daughter of Thor. We will meet again, Jean Fairsythe, but remember that I serve with greater honour to be bound to the Shield of Fire and the Great Cycle, so do not grieve for the loss of your friend. She is happier now than she can remember, though all of my ancient memories have also returned. This is how it should be, Jean.'

'You were my best friend,' Jean said sniffing.

'And she will miss you, dearly,' the ghost replied, and Jean saw that it was true, but she also saw something else in those large dark eyes, those memories of other women's experiences that made up the Hero of Will that rode that horse with such pride and dignity. 'However, the woman you knew as Terese was but one of many lives that form the heart and soul of Lady Sapphire-Sword. All of those women serve a purpose in the one body that you see before you. Terese is glad to be reunited with us, and we are whole once more. It is as it should be, but she will never forget your friendship.'

Jean rubbed more water from her vision to see the light of at least fifty other Heroes of Will charging around the mountaintop, riders of light and shadows wielding impossible power from their blades and bows; fire and lightning bolts brighter than the sun launching even from their spears and swords. They drove the High-Servants and Hex-Keepers into retreat, though the Jinn-Magic of the enemy was also increased by the rising shadow of the Jinn-Lord.

'What should I do now?' Jean asked Terese.

'Join your Brothers,' Sapphire-Sword replied. 'Tanriel will raise you above the volcano, and you must strike hard against the rising shadow. Use all of your strength, Jean. We will hold back the enemy here, with Bran, Anwen and Angus to assist us. The time is now for you to realise the true Angel-Magic that you have always contained. You must merge with Tanriel, together, with Adem's assistance, you will be able to create the seal; imprisoning Fendinn in accordance with the Prophecy.'

'But how do we do it?' Jean asked.

'It is up to fate to decide, Jean Fairsythe. Always trust in good luck!'

'I taught you that!' Jean exclaimed with a smile; she laughed as tears continued to fall. She had hoped Terese would remain in Kismeria to lead in her stead. This world needed a woman of her wisdom and courage.

'So, you did, Jean Fairsythe. I remember the day.'

***

Adem soared upwards through the tunnel of shadows and fire. He held Isabelle in his arms, he'd found her somehow, with the assistance of his Battle Angels. She was still encased in a Shield-Sphere when he found her lying unconscious on a stone ledge, but she was unguarded. Llew had rescued her via his unique teleport ability, and Adem had lifted her up and flew with all the speed he could muster to reach the skies above.

Isabelle was awake now, and she clutched him tightly with arms around his neck as they both gazed up at the dark shadow form that rose from the volcano above them. Fendinn was nearly free! Adem could clearly make out the back of his enormous torso that flowed down into a great tail of red wreathed shadows.

'It worked in the Chameleon Arch!' Adem shouted as he increased his speed. Isabelle gazed at him questioningly as eight Blades of Odin lanced upwards in an octagon of blue swords! Fifty feet long Blades spinning to strike through Fendinn's back, and Adem flew upwards through that column of fire and shadows to emerge through the Jinn-Lord's heart! He soared higher, his Battle Angels joining him as he stared down in awe and terror at the great shadow that reached for him with a dark claw.

He sent the order to Llew, and suddenly the Battle Angel appeared on wings of violet at his side to lift Isabelle into his arms and fly away and down towards the feet of Kerak'Otozi. Isabelle had tried to hold on to him, but Llew had gripped her tightly and pulled her free as if he were a man handling a child. Adem saw giant lightning Angels; that he realised from his senses were Carl and Wil, joined in mind and soul with Math Mathonwy and Dis Pater.

Arawn was suddenly flying close by; informing Adem that they should also meld in this way, and that Jean was ready to begin also. He spotted Jean joining with Tanriel on the mountainside, and the two formed together in a flare of white light to create a female spirit with wings of red flame and blue armour that pulsed with lightning. They formed a being much smaller than Carl's or Wil's however, and when the Angel soared up beside him, he saw that it was Tanriel in spirit and form, but with Jean's lovely face! She smiled at him warmly as she shouted, 'Let's get this over with!'

A moment later she was hurling down red lightning spears that struck Fendinn to burst into networks of crimson bolts; spreading like cracks through the shadow skin.

Adem and Arawn formed a meld, and Adem felt the transformation after a moment of floating through endless light, and he saw Jean's delight when he became a great dark armoured Shadow Angel, though Jean exclaimed, 'Arawn has your face, Adem! You should see yourself!'

The same transformation took hold of Carl and Wil, the giant figures of Math and Dis Pater, though both had the face, eyes and soul of Carl and Wil!

Adem heard Shienden speaking to his mind, soaring high above the cloud cover as Adem sent his reply: It is time, Dragon-Sword!

The emerald lizard launched down out of the clouds, screaming with fury as he sprayed a long line of orange Dragonfire that scorched the massive dark ram skull. Jinn-Fendinn roared, falling further back within the volcano as Adem shouted the words, 'Shei'heildorth Alfodr!' And he found that he was able to summon the true form of the Spear of Odin!

A bar of white-hot blue flame launched from the massive red sword that Arawn—who was also Adem—aimed at the Fendinn's heart. The Odin Spear struck the chest of black muscle, blue white fire swirling within! An almighty roar of thunder filled the sky! Shienden swooped again to unleash another stream of Dragonfire, as Odin Lightning-Lord appeared in the sky in a form of light and shadows similar in size to the Jinn-Lord.

Odin wore shining blue and red armour worked with gold fire, his beard was a massive fanning mass like starlight and his eyes were piercing blue flame. He wore a huge golden helmet with wings at the temples, and the lightning storm increased in ferocity as the giant figure drew a long golden spear from his shoulders.

Fire-Magic of blue white launched from the tip of the golden spear, also striking Fendinn's heart. The massive shadow form collapsed against the tip of the mountain, the chest and back bending as if it would break if made of bone within flesh. The dark claws clutched the raging volcano for stability, as Adem, Jean, Carl and Wil formed a link that was joined with their melded Battle Angel's forms.

At that time Adem received instruction from Arawn that they should allow Serock to join them in the link. Adem's mind reeled to learn that Serock had even escaped, but this request seemed unfounded until Arawn explained it was Carl Wilder's request, and that it was vital in the chances of absolute success.

Adem allowed Serock to join, and their ability in Angel-Magic increased dramatically, though the sense of Jinn-Magic was also immense, most likely due to the darkness of the spirit of the former Vampire-King. Adem spotted the man in a dark coat riding a pale horse on the mountainside, and suddenly every High-Servant and Dark General appeared to attack at once. They did not strike at Serock however; they hurled lightning and fire at Adem, Jean, Carl and Wil.

The attacks struck Shield-Spheres to little effect, though Adem knew their defences would not hold forever. Then he saw red lightning pulse in Serock's fist, flaring outwards in massive bolts that struck and seemed to cling to each High-Servant and Dark General. The Servants of the Shadow clawed helplessly to escape the lightning that seemed to be some sort of energy trap. Then Adem watched in awe as Serock rode to the tip of the volcano, horse and man leaping to fall into shadows and flame! The lightning still reached up out of the volcano, and Adem watched as the High-Servants and Hex-Keepers were dragged kicking and screaming through the air to become sucked down into its depths!

Now is the time to strike! Arawn sent to Adem. Serock has sacrificed himself so that we may seal all of our most dangerous adversaries in with the Jinn-Lord as well. Arawn also explained that these instructions also came from Carl Wilder, and that Serock had explained part of the plan while Adem was inside Kerak'Otozi. He just might be worthy of redemption then. Adem thought with a grim expression. One thought still troubled him; he had only counted twenty-three, including Serock. Perhaps he had counted wrong amidst the chaos, but he was almost certain there had been one dark cloaked figure missing.

A moment later he noticed transparent human figures all over the mountain, hundreds of them taking the form of golden winged angels with crimson swords and dark armour. He realised they must be possession spirits; Jinn-Fendinn was aiding their powers so that they might serve as Spirit Wardens to save him from this plight.

The Demon Angels began to soar into the skies when that crimson lightning launched out from the tip of the volcano, hundreds of red claws reaching to grasp every last possession spirit and drag them into the inferno.

He struck again, Spear of Odin skewering Fendinn as He fought with rage, trying to recover. Jean, Carl and Wil struck also, lines of golden, crimson and emerald fire mixing with Adem's blue Spear, all striking the Jinn-Lord, as Shienden breathed Dragonfire into the wound! Odin launched another burning spear that flared brighter than the sun! Impossible energy flowed through them; their link was massive beyond extremes! Thunder roared, the earth trembled, pulsing flaring energies combined in lightning and fire. Magic of the All-Father coursed through and around the Jinn-Lord, until He collapsed; claws dragging for support until the combined energies pushed Him back into the volcano.

Next the energies collided in a cataclysmic blast, as the lava suddenly began to erupt with coloured flames, of the stolen Magic of the Great Angels. Eruptions shooting up into the sky and returning to the Elemental Magic of the Ancients! The cataclysmic blast ruptured outwards in a blinding white wave ... Adem was falling through endless light ... there was no day or night, no beginning and no end to the Shadow and the Light ... there was only the Battle of Ages, and those that were willing to fight!

***

Arawn felt Adem slip from his soul in the blast of fire and light, the Sons of Odin and Daughter of Thor were gone from this world, perhaps dead, but he doubted that. He believed they would return, in accordance with the prophecies. His Brothers and Sisters felt the raw energy of ancient Elemental Lore returning to the land, skies, rivers and forests; they were stealing back what Jinn-Fendinn had taken. In moments the volcano was a sealed formation, the heroes of prophecy had succeeded; Jinn-Fendinn was imprisoned along with his High-Servants.

They soared back down the mountain, moving with supernatural speed to return to the battlefields where Heroes of Will fought alongside the warriors of Kismeria in a final desperate charge through their shadow ranks. Arawn; and his Battle Angels unleashed chaos upon the demon forces; they brought terror and despair to the hearts of the enemies of peace.

Fire Lions and Shadow Hounds gorged on demon flesh, stripping the enemy down to bare bones as they gulped down massive chunks of sinewy muscle. Arawn launched into a ground assault with his crimson blade, striking down demons with a ferocity and bloodlust that spoke of Jinn-Magic on his mind, yet the renewed Power of the Great Angels provided him with a surge of energies that he unleashed in sheets of flame and lightning that moved out in waves from the swing of his blade. Math Mathonwy and Dis Pater joined his onslaught, also attacking with savage battle lust, the Hellfire Spear and Dis Pater's golden axe sending shockwaves of Angel-Magic through the enemy ranks. Flame Crows joined the feast in the thousands, along with Llew's Spirit Wolves of blue fire and Balor's giant wolf Shadowhunter feasting on flesh and blood.

It was a victory, this time. The land was restored to ancient Angel-Magic, and the Great Angels would be free once more. But Jinn-Fendinn would eventually return, and it would be up to the Sons of Odin and the Daughter of Thor to lead them into the Ragnarök Battle, at the turn of the millennia.

***

Hayley watched the massive explosion in the sky above Kerak'Otozi as she felt her sense of Wil, Jean, Carl and Adem slip from her soul. They were not dead though, she would not believe that for a moment, they would return, and she would greet her husband with open arms, though she dreaded the thought of his absence for such a long time.

Battle Angels appeared to sweep the demon fields with chaos and destruction, lightning and fire, Spirit Wardens and Elemental Magic. Druantia joined in the battle with her kin, their link a monstrosity of Angel-Magic that wreaked devastation upon their enemies.

Druantia's Green Men numbered close to one hundred sentinels via the Angel-Magic of Odin that still launched from the skies. Odin had returned to his Resting Point in the High Realm, though he provided rivers of revitalising energies for his Brothers and Sisters that fought with murderous vengeance. Tanriel and Anwen fought from the skies, on aqua and emerald wings of flame, unleashing Flame Spears and Spirit Wardens in the form of falcons, eagles and hawks of coloured fire that swooped to blast through demon skulls on impact. Their Link also brought coloured bolts of lightning from the skies to mix with Odin's blue pillars of flame, striking demons to vaporize hundreds in a single blast. Angus provided vast Healing-Magic spheres that rejuvenated the spirits of the Heroes of Will and the warriors that fought alongside them within the demon swarms, and ki'mera flowed in endless rivers of light that floated to the Battle Angels, Ghost Heroes, and those that slew the enemy with Angel-Magic.

The demon army was staying dead too, for Calliach had also regained full strength in light of the energies that had escaped from Kerak'Otozi. Balance was restored, their victory assured.

Isabelle was also by her side and under close watch from Ael Tarael who were preparing for Adem's heir to be born. But that would not occur here, they would return her to the Free Lands before that time. For now, she sat and breathed as instructed by the female wielders, as their forces prepared to evacuate via Portal-Magic. The enemy was nearly destroyed; there would be peace in the land, for a time. But evil would sprout anew, it always had, and there were still the vampires and the threat of invaders from across the seas such as the Honds and their kin. Wars would still be waged, and the Alit'aren and Ael Tarael would be needed to lead those battles. What if this Evolo Marzosiel did not survive, and what if his secrets were not shared in time, what hope was there with a corruption upon teron that drove men insane or evil, and a curse upon terael that caused who knows what?

She would need to be tactical; she would need to be clever, but she would also require strong allies. Perhaps the often-intolerable Princess Isabelle and her future child could lend such support and authority for her Martyr Coven. She summoned her vampires to her side, 'It is nearly time to leave.'

'Where are we going, Lady Hayley?' Larg Keledren asked with fist to breastplate.

'For now,' Hayley replied, 'to watch the heir of Highlander be born into the world. Then we shall venture into the Southlands, where we will fight vampires and werewolves and give them the option to serve, and if they refuse, they will die.'

'The Martyr Coven is yours to command,' Larg replied. 'We are at your service, till death.'

Hayley smiled, sadly, 'You honour me, yes; every one of you does me a great honour. Your loyalty will reap rewards of fame and respect amongst the people of the Free Lands.'

'I highly doubt that, my Lady, yet we serve you all the same.'

***

Mijharz watched as the vampire army began to fall back! He roared in triumph, brandishing his sword as the cloud cover was suddenly forced back by a fierce storm wind, perhaps Angel-Magic of Odin, or perhaps his lesser Angels at work. The result was vampire bodies falling from the skies as dark burnt husks as the sunlight touched their flesh, werewolves returning to human form as his warriors trampled them under a stampede of hooves or sliced them open with lances, spears, axes and swords. Once the light had returned his warriors gained courage and fought with ferocity and displayed the old might of the Ruhalden. They wiped out thousands in those moments that the enemy began to retreat, though most had been the burnt vampire corpses crash landing to burst into red dust.

His heart still ached over the loss of the Ruhalden King; Erroll Condallore was a great man, a fine leader, and his good friend. He loathed giving the news to his widow, who would have to accede the crown to their only son to take over the Ruhalden throne. The Prince had more of his mother in him than he did Erroll, especially in his dark eyes and complexion, the old Ruhalden blood flowed deeply in his veins. The people respected him, and he had a good head on his shoulders to accept the responsibility.

When the fields were swept clear of Wolves and Nightwalkers, Mijharz ordered his men to set up a patrol while the rest of his forces returned to Calicos, to give word of the great victory for Kismeria. There would be grand celebrations over the success of the Saviours, and deep mourning at the loss of their King. The Odin Storm still lit up the sky as they sang in deep courageous tones, songs of victory, rejoicing in their salvation. It was beginning to seem likely the lightning strikes would outlast the daylight, possibly lighting up the night sky with infinite blazing swords of blue fire. He sensed in his immortal spirit that the world was recovering from a great and terrible illness. Angel-Magic of the land was returning to leaf, rock and soil, ice and fire, wind and rain.

Before they left a lieutenant had informed him that over three thousand warriors were infected with vampire or werewolf bites. 'Tell them they have two choices, join the enemy in the Southlands, or reach a dark forest in the next three days and await the summons of Hayley Martyr. But let them know this, if they choose to enter the Southlands, they will no longer have any friends left in the Free Lands. They will be butchered on sight!' He did not stay to find out how many chose to aid the side of evil, and how many sought their redemption on the path of righteousness.

***

Koncha roared with fury to see his vampires and werewolves surging back through the passes and into the foothills of the Southlands. He was enraged to know that the Shadow-King had been defeated, that he was condemned to remain a prisoner in these lands, deprived of the rich fountains of blood that flowed through the veins of millions.

He would rebuild his forces and await the Return, if it took a thousand years, or a hundred thousand years! He would wait, and scheme, and prepare for his revenge! 'Fall back!' he shouted in outrage and defeat. 'We will live to fight another day! Return to your covens! Sleep, and feed as you may! But remember, if we turn every living soul in the Southlands, we will starve ourselves of human blood! Better to drink cow, or pig, or goat's blood now than face a future battle without human blood to build our strength and magic! Retreat! You have my approval and my forgiveness!'

He still had the chance of capturing the vampire woman who could walk in daylight. Without her precious Sons of Odin and Daughter of Thor to protect her, Hayley Martyr might yet fall into his grasp.

***

Harkrost stood on a ledge overlooking the fires that surged within the heart of Kerak'Otozi. Those fires were different now, having lost the colours of the Great Angel Magic, they were now a flickering column of yellow-orange and crimson.

Harkrost was different also, having been reincarnated by the remaining Jinn-Magic of the High-Jinn, he stood now as a youthful immortal with dark spiked hair and jet-black eyes, the tanned skin of a Dremelden that had fallen in recent battle. Scars covered his chest beneath the shadow cloaked form; lingering signs of the death of the man that had been called Seff.

HARKROST, YOU ARE THE LAST OF YOUR BROTHERS THAT REMAINS FREE. YOU WILL SERVE ME FAITHFULLY AND RECEIVE MANY REWARDS. THE TIME FOR AIDING MY ESCAPE IS NOT YET. YOUR FIRST TASK WILL BE THIS, FIND THE DRUID EVOLO MARZOSIEL, KILL HIM, DESTROY HIS NOTES AND BOOKS, HIS LABORATORIES, AND EVERY LAST DROP OF POTION!

***

Tarz watched with relief as the demon army began to crumble into dust. Tens of thousands suddenly returned to death as Angel-Magic of Calliach was stabilised by the victory over the Shadow. Earth Power was returning to Kismeria. He sensed it in his immortal bones.

They were still on the wall, and Aldebrands pushed back the demon waves with Lightning-Arrows as Portal-Magic was created behind enemy lines for a charge by heavy cavalry numbering over twenty thousand riders. Alit'aren and Aldebrands joined the charge, and soon the enemy was desperately seeking an escape, but they closed in on both sides to crush them into oblivion.

Gwydion even returned with a host of Battle Angels, their Spirit Wardens and Elemental Magic vanquishing most of what remained of the demon masses. Runen sent shockwaves of Angel-Magic through the enemy ranks with his massive hammer strikes, and Neit vaporized demons by the thousands with streams of energy that sliced through flesh and bone with ease as the enemy burst into flaming ashes! Gwydion unleashed waves of Pixie Wardens that soared as a river of light to blast through demon chests and skulls, his attacks returned with flowing demon souls of coloured spiritual fire.

Great triumphant cries sounded from his warriors when the last of the demons were seen fleeing into the horizon, swarming around the charging riders in the hope of survival. They left those that they could not cut down at arm's length; it would take generations for the Jinn-Lord's forces to return to a portion of the scale of this demon army that had been thrown against them in this war.

He grinned as he thought of Adem, Jean, Carl and Wil. Likely now returned to their home world, wondering whether they had succeeded or failed. He would be more than glad to see those four again. His work now was to lead the Alit'aren without inciting conflict with the Ael Tarael. He hoped he could find a way.

***

Epilogue

Isabelle held her baby boy in her arms, wrapped in a red woollen cloak. She was overjoyed to see his shining dark eyes like black marble, filled with an intelligence and might that seemed to be beyond comprehension for a newborn child. She tickled his chin and the child giggled with glee. They were in Nordhel, returned by portal before she gave birth.

'I will name him Pendral,' Isabelle said to Hayley and the Ael Tarael that stood close by her bedside. Hayley held her own child wrapped in a green silk blanket and the two babies made gleeful gurgling sounds when they laid eyes on one another. Pendral was an old Ruhalden name for King.

'I still can't believe your father has left us,' Isabelle whispered to Pendral. 'He was so brave and noble and mighty; I love him dearly. How will we live without him? And he never even got the chance to meet you. Well, the two of you will meet some day. Then we will be together again, your father, mother, grandmother and grand—a tear fell from her face as she recalled the recent news that her father had died in battle—and your uncle. We will all be one big happy family.'

***

Carl fell from the sky to land in a massive lake, or river, it was night, and it took time for his eyes to adjust. When he stood with his friends gathered around him and also soaking wet, they tried to take in their surroundings under the moonlight. His memory of what had occurred at the last was hazy, he remembered the explosion at Kerak'Otozi, then after that he was bathed in a white glow, and that time had seemed very long, the space he floated in seemed endless, like Heaven.

'Did we succeed?' Adem shouted in the shadows, the four of them marching through the knee-deep water to reach dry ground. 'My Angel-Magic is gone!' Adem groaned. 'If there are demons close by, we will be helpless.'

Carl could not sense teron either. This made him realise something, 'I think that we must be ... home.'

'I can't touch terael either,' said Jean. 'Do you think we're really back? Do you think we won?'

'I believe it is so,' Carl replied as they reached the riverbank. As they stood and dripped onto the dirt and grass, Carl noticed that they were all dressed in the clothes they'd been wearing when they first arrived in Kismeria, their Earth clothes! 'Look at our clothes! It is a miracle! We must be back!'

'I've even got my phone!' Wil shouted.

'I doubt it will work again until you use a hair dryer on it,' Jean said with a moonlit grin, the clouds were beginning to move apart to allow a cool blue light to cover their forms.

'So, we're stuck out here,' Carl said with a sigh. Then a moment later, he saw a light up ahead. 'Is that a flashlight?'

'I think so,' said Wil. So, they waited, gathered together and dripping wet, as the flashlight got closer and a male voice shouted, 'Is someone out there?'

'Who goes there?' Adem shouted. Carl resisted a groan; Adem still had not received any Healing-Magic or potion. If they really were home, he would need his medication as soon as possible. A moment later the voice said calmly, 'This is the Police.'

'Of what jurisdiction are you?' Carl asked with caution. Police was not a Kismerian word, but they still were unsure of their predicament.

'Of the Melbourne, Victoria, Police,' the voice replied in a heavy Australian accent. 'I'm searching for Adem Highlander, Jean Fairsythe, Carl Wilder and Wil Martyr. Is that you?' The torchlight was now shining on them, and Carl made out the police uniform on the tall figure before he shouted, 'That's us!'

The officer removed his cap and breathed a sigh of relief as he said, 'Geez, glad we found you! We've been searching for a few days now. Your families reported you missing over five days ago, after this long and a big search of the area, well, you know, we start to fear the worst.'

'We're all OK!' Carl replied.

'If you don't mind me asking,' the officer said, 'where have you four been all this time?' Carl clenched his jaw as Adem spoke before he had a chance, muttering, 'We've journeyed from another dimension.'

'What's that?' asked the officer.

'We fell in the creek!' Carl replied in a thick Australian accent. 'Not too sure on the last five days though, we just got lost, spent the time finding shade and eating bush tucker.'

'Oh,' said the policeman, 'well then, like I said, I'm glad we found you.' He then clicked his radio to say to a fellow officer, 'Mike, I found them. They're all alive and well.' They heard a crackling reply as the officer clicked the button again and said, 'Yeah, I know we already searched this area. I've found them. They fell in the creek! Would you believe it?' Carl said a silent prayer to his Lord God and Jesus Christ. He had prayed to return to his wife and child for a very long time, and already those experiences in Kismeria were slightly fading in his mind, like some dream that was perceived as real at the time.

'Come on, you lot!' the policeman said excitedly. 'Let's get you home to your families.'

***

The celebrations in Kismeria lasted months, great feasts were held in the cities, keeps and holds, music and dancing and revelry for their freedom. Elmira, Orion, Tobin and Lydia were at the feasts at Nordhel for many weeks, and then they travelled the lands to join in other celebrations, with Elarja RinHannen at their side. They even wound time back a little via Elarja to join in on feasts they had missed while celebrating at Nordhel. So, in effect, they were often in two places at the same time.

The land was at peace once more, the earth was returning to a natural cycle of seasons and strength was growing in the elements and the spirits of its people. Hayley Martyr left Nordhel with her Martyr Coven a little before Elmira and the others. The wife of Wil Martyr swore she would return some day with a vampire and werewolf army that would give her a place amongst mankind as a force to be reckoned with. Elmira wished her good fortune, and when they left Nordhel Hayley also delivered Isabelle and Pendral—along with Shienden as Pendral's personal Aldebrand Dragon—to Calicos to be with their kin. It was an ending to their great friendships, but they knew they would all meet again one day; after all, they were a part of the prophecies, their destinies were entwined with the fate of Kismeria.

Jinn-Magic and the curse remained on the two halves of Angel-Magic however, and Elmira was greatly disturbed to learn that Evolo Marzosiel, the Druid who had discovered the cure, had been brutally murdered only days after Fendinn was sealed in Kerak'Otozi. The Alit'aren and Seidr'tera who had been guarding the Druid were also killed, suggesting the assassin was someone of great strength in Jinn-Magic. For now, there was little need to wield, so Healing-Magic performed by Ael Tarael on Alit'aren would suffice, but when another great confrontation threatened the lands, madness and chaos would surely rule. The banishment on male wielding would need to be enforced again; and it would-be all-out war between the Ael Tarael and Alit'aren for the next thousand years. Elmira and Lydia would keep their husbands in check however; they would not lose them to the effects of the corruption on teron.

***

Adem met with Jean in the city at a small café, three days after they returned home. He'd been taking his medication every day and had more than his usual dose to try to return to his normal self sooner. He'd seen his psychiatrist the day before, who asked him many questions about his experience out in the bush, but Adem did his best to sound vague in his explanations, insisting that his memory was not very clear about what had transpired, what they had seen, and done, eaten or where they slept each night. It was all a complete lie, but he knew he couldn't explain what had really happened. That they had spent years in an alternate world via dimensional portals where elves, demons, goblins, werewolves, vampires and mortals all lived together in a warring ecosystem of good against evil. It was something he knew would land him straight back in hospital.

Jean wore a short white skirt and daisy yellow blouse with a low neckline. She looked amazing in the summer sunlight that poured over the balcony where they sat outside on the cobblestones. Her big blue eyes were filled with troubles however, it seemed the loss of her many friends was taking its toll, especially Terese and the poor boy Del.

'Are we going to try dating again?' Adem asked her after a long pause.

'You've been under a lot of strain, Adem,' Jean replied. 'I think we still need a break from one another, Adem needs to get things right with Adem first. I believe that is what is most important, for now at least.'

'I want to move in with you, Jean. I want us to start a family together. Will you consider it?' Jean smiled, sadly; then asked, 'What sort of work do you plan to do now?'

'I don't want to do acting, anymore,' Adem replied. 'I've been thinking I might try writing again. I could write about our adventures, under different names of course. What do you think?'

'It could work,' Jean mused. 'I'm giving up on modelling and acting too.'

'There's something else, Jean, about Anna, our agent.'

'I know all about Anna, Adem. She's one of them.' The way she emphasised 'them' made Adem ask, 'She told you?'

'We had a little chat the morning after we got home. I cornered her, demanded answers. It didn't take long before she confessed it all to me.'

'Will we see her again?'

'I think so, Adem. But I've decided I want to try studying to become a teacher, or a diplomat, someone who can make a difference in the world.'

'You're a warrior woman, Jean. Can you really see yourself teaching children?'

'You said you wished to start a family, Adem. What better way is there to learn how to raise a child than to learn how to educate them, care for them, be their guide and mentor?'

'I suppose you're right. So, you'll consider it? I'll find other work too, Jean, something to pay the bills while I write my stories. We'll be happy together, Jean. I can just picture us, together, as a family.'

'I'll consider it, Adem Highlander. Just keep taking your meds and get started on this book of yours. We'll see about the rest.'

'Oh, yes, Jean! It's going to be great, and we'll have Carl and his wife and Wil over every Friday for a pizza, red wine and cards night.'

'Yes, poor Wil! He must be missing Hayley terribly by now.'

'He'll see her again, and it won't seem nearly as long for him as it will for her. We'll see all our old friends again, Jean. It will be wonderful.'

The End of the Third Book of the Sons of Odin

Book Four of the Sons of Odin

Balor's Might

Angel-Magic Edition

L. A. Hammer

Prologue

A Surprise Visitor

Copyright 2015 L.A. Hammer.

Published by L.A. Hammer at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition Licence Notes

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover artwork, maps and interior illustrations by Minh Nguyen – flare3103

Prologue

A Surprise Visitor

Orion Demon-Slayer sat on a wooden bench, outside the hut where he and his wife had lived for over a century. Some would call it a manor house: but compared with the luxuries his wife Elmira had become accustomed to in her years spent as the Queen of the Torvellen, it was 'a rustic little shack right in the middle of nowhere land'. This was an argument he had heard many times over, whenever she was in a foul mood.

He held a lump of wood in his hands, carving an image out with scrapes of the small knife. He was not certain what it would be yet, though it was starting to look like a man. He decided then it would be a man. He then began to think about working the form into the image of the long-lost Saviour of Kismeria, Adem Highlander.

His days were spent much like this one, sitting in the shade of the large oak tree that stood close by their home. Overlooking a wide river that flowed through the town that was known as Red River. Named for the bloodshed that was said to have made the waters run red during a battle over six hundred years before.

The Battle of Red River was the end of a war between the ruling nations of Kismeria. Nearly broken in spirit by the ravaging Angel-Magic of mad Alit'aren infected by Jinn-Magic, causing ruin across the lands. Unleashing Hellfire and Destruction-Magic on a rampage that threatened all of humanity.

That was long ago, and Orion had not taken part in that battle. Though they had settled here, and the town grew around them. People from distant lands journeyed here seeking peace from the wars that still plagued Kismeria. That had been nearly three hundred years ago, and Orion and his wife had shared a smaller home with Tobin Fire-Heart and Lydia Ever-Light—former rulers of Nordhel and the Nordic bloodline of immortals—but after a time they decided they would build separate houses. Across the road from one another with their front doors facing each other.

Tobin was out in the fields now. Lydia and Elmira were sipping tea on the front porch as the aromas of their shared cooking wafted in the afternoon breeze. Lamb roast with potatoes and carrots, and freshly baked bread and cheese. It was a simple life compared to the one they were used to, though it reminded Orion of his youth. He had grown up living on a farm at a house like this one, with his dearly departed mother and father. He nearly cut himself with the flat knife as he recalled that fateful night his mother and father had been murdered by demons. It was that same night that Orion was set on the path of his destiny to become the future King of the Torvellen. At the dawn of his teenage years, it was also the night he became a man.

A darkness flared in his soul as he recalled taking his first demon souls that night. He was in a murderous rage to avenge his mother. He slew Boli-Kuldr with the sword his father had gifted him, Little Tiger. When his father had also been cut with a Souljhin blade, Orion was given the real Tigerclaw, a golden glowing weapon that was a part of his family lineage. He still carried that sword to this day, as it was enchanted of old magic, and it had lasted over two thousand years since he obtained possession of it.

He had only survived that night due to the protection of an unexpected visitor. A stranger at the time. The presence of that visitor, then and there, was a puzzle he still pondered, every time he thought of the last night that he spent with his mother and father. It told much about the fate of the future. And the past. That surprise visitor had saved his life. A great debt was owed for that. Still, it was part of a riddle he was yet to solve.

Close to a thousand years had passed since the Sons of Odin and the Daughter of Thor had vanished from this world. Highlander leaving the legacy of his son, Pendral, who became known as Pendral Dragon-Sword. That was another tale in Orion's history that brought a black smear rising within his soul. It was something he did not like to talk about. Pendral had risen to become the hope of Kismerian salvation over rising threats within the land during his lifetime. But there was darkness to Pendral's soul, and it grew with age. The Shadow always had its grips on him since before he was born.

Pendral had also fathered a son, Rayne Dragon-Sword. Again, the fate of that child was another sad tale that stirred disturbing memories in all who had known him. Rayne was also a champion in his youth, great in magic and knowledge of the ancient world. His death was shrouded in mystery.

He'd been working the face into the carving, and he suddenly stared in wonder at his creation, seeing the faces of Pendral and Rayne Dragon-Sword; as well as Adem Highlander combined in the image. They were all similar looking, Rayne looking more like his grandfather. Perhaps the thoughts of the three heroes had summoned the image while he worked the carving. Those memories floating through his mind.

Rodriel Tarz still led the rebel legion of Alit'aren, known now as the Forsaken. A name originally given to them by Jean Fairsythe. They wore the name now like a badge of honour. They were different to wielders like Orion and Tobin, who had resisted the lure of _teron_ for the last millennia, only wielding small amounts of Angel-Magic to create Shield-Spells in line with the ancient decree. There had been times when he had broken that oath. At times when he felt it necessary. He shuddered to contemplate the wrath of the White Snow Fox.

Tarz and his Forsaken had refused to follow the decree. Choosing to wield any element of Angel-Magic at free will, to continue to hold back the demon threat in the East Lands. They had built huge walls of stone to bar the paths and passes between the Borderland mountain ranges, where they continued to stand in defence of Kismeria. Wielding _teron_ whenever needed, despite the corruption it forced upon their minds and souls.

They had discovered an antidote of sorts to those effects of Jinn-Magic, a form of crystal known as _elykrario_. The red stones were placed on the dark armour and gauntlets, greaves and pauldrons of the Forsaken. Drawing in the foulness of Jinn-Magic on _teron_ to slow the ongoing effects of madness.

It had worked, to a degree. The Forsaken retained their senses despite the ever-present threat of madness that loomed over their kind, and all male wielders. Yet they were obviously marked by the stresses of feeling that darkness in their souls every time they wielded _teron_. Some even lost their minds completely, despite having Ael Tarael amongst their clans to also slow and reduce the effects via Healing-Spells.

Those that were deemed unsafe for the clans were Shield-Trapped and prevented from ever wielding again, a certain death sentence once the order was enforced. Wielders could not live without Angel-Magic for long, most of them anyway. There was a deep longing in the soul that resulted in suicide or simply dying of what could only be perceived as a kind of broken heart, over the loss of no longer being able to sense the ecstasy of _teron_.

The Forsaken were also deadly swordsmen, perhaps the greatest Agnars in all the lands. Before the arrival of the Sons of Odin, Alit'aren were not always exceptional with the blade. Angel-Magic had served them well enough without other physical forms of attack and defence. The Forsaken saw blindness in this ancient flaw, and they trained their wielders day and night in the ancient sword forms that forged them into deadly vipers of steel.

They reminded Orion of the images conjured in his mind when Highlander would tell him of the ancient Ninja and Samurai of Earth, from the nation known as Japan. The Forsaken wore only black, or dark grey, that naturally drank in the darkness of night and shadows. Most often garbed in the tightly wrapped cloth that was also enchanted to blend with the shadows to a greater degree. In the Japanese style most also wore plated lacquered _do_ , or cuirass, _men-yoroi,_ or _mengu_ face guards, _kabuto_ helmets. Gauntlets of brightly lacquered colours in the warrior style known as the _ghoda'sidhe_. Perhaps the similar names came from days when the Great Angels travelled to both worlds. Orion had been stunned by the similarity of such names in languages other than the Common Tongue.

Tarz had also been told of these Japanese warriors by Highlander long ago, and perhaps Tarz also saw the honour of their code. Tarz was a man of honour, and perhaps he had shaped his warriors in their same image. Combining the honour codes of both worlds to create his potentially unstoppable force. For this reason, and also because of Jinn-Magic, Tarz and his Forsaken were a force to be reckoned with. If they suddenly turned rabid, they could become the greatest threat Kismeria had ever faced. It was for this reason that the Ael Tarael and their armies had given up trying to enforce justice against the Forsaken for going against the decree. Tarz had also been a welcome assistant in ancient battles as well as his enduring opposition to the demons on the Green Border.

Tarz and the Forsaken also practiced the Jinn Arts. Outlawed as soon as they were discovered nearly a thousand years ago by the Daughter of Thor. Yet again, Tarz refused to follow the orders of a woman who had vanished from the lands. He and his followers also practiced many ways of controlling the minds of demons via the corruption on _teron_ and _terael_. This was the main purpose for the _elykrario_ stones. They absorbed dangerous powers that flowed into their souls when they harnessed the Jinn Arts.

Orion looked up to see Elmira and Lydia striding towards him in their blue woollen robes, both carrying large weaved baskets with checked red-and-white cloths falling out over the sides. 'We're going to pick berries to make more jams, husband,' Elmira said as they walked by him and headed towards the forest road. The two women always made jams to trade with the town for whatever was needed, though all they ever asked for was always greeted with a smile and a request to sample more of the lovely blueberry, blackberry or raspberry conserves. It was how Lydia and Elmira did their part to help them make do with what they had, given their circumstances after being renounced of their crowns and kingdoms by the Daughter of Thor.

Orion's and Tobin's wives held no animosity towards Jean Fairsythe for that decree however; they had forgiven that decision long ago. There were times Orion still wished that he was King of Tarvel, though only for the desire to command armies in the battles that had plagued the lands these last thousand years. He no longer cared for gold or the fine luxuries of a Torvellen King.

***

Jean was washing up the plates after their pepperoni pizza. Carl and his wife and Wil were also seated around the table with Adem in their living room getting ready for red wine and cards, the five-year tradition of their Friday nights. They were all talking and laughing with soft techno playing in the background, they were a happy family.

Jean had given birth to a baby girl four years ago, the first year after they returned from Kismeria. They named her Janeanne. And Jean had been Mrs. Jean Highlander since soon after they learnt that she had fallen pregnant. They had a traditional wedding ceremony, in a church with a priest. Adem had insisted on it. They spent their honeymoon in Paris, for a month, visiting the sights, museums and churches.

Their home was not large, three bedrooms with a kitchen and joined family room with three dark leather couches in front of the television and stereo. Adem and Jean slept together in the same bed. Adem was stable most days, as he took his medication and saw his doctors when necessary. He had seemed to be suffering depression the first year after they returned to Earth, but he got better after Janeanne was born. Being a father was good for him, and he was the perfect parent, adoring Janeanne and teaching her to speak and then read and write even before she started kindergarten.

He liked to talk to Janeanne about God and the Bible also, but Jean didn't like it. She always told him she felt their daughter should have the option to investigate religion when and if she decided it was something that interested her. But Adem was stubborn, he said, 'I don't want her running wild when she hits sixteen. Drinking, partying and riding in cars with boys. Religion will be good for her. It'll teach her the importance of being responsible for her own soul. Being an upstanding citizen and respectable person when she grows into adulthood.'

Jean didn't agree with that, but she rarely argued when he was reading Bible passages to Janeanne or telling her of the mystical characters in one of his many fantasy novels he had written about Kismeria. Adem was reasonably successful as an author, making enough money for them to live comfortably while Jean was at home looking after their little girl. Adem worked part time also, but they really didn't need the extra money. They had everything they needed. Her heart was content.

'Jean when you're ready, sweetheart,' Adem was saying over the other voices in the room, 'we've got the cards set up and I've poured you a glass of the bottle you like most.'

'Thank you, darling,' Jean replied looking over her shoulder. 'I've just got to get dessert ready, too.' She'd bought a cheesecake and a lemon meringue pie. They were still in the fridge in their boxes, and she quickly finished drying and got out fresh plates and forks. Suddenly the lights flickered. Jean thought it was odd but went back to what she was doing. Then a thought struck her. Panic was the word. She raced to Janeanne's room and switched on the light.

Terror struck her heart. She was frozen as she looked to see that her daughter was not in bed. The sheets were turned down as if someone had come in and taken her! She searched the house, calling her daughter's name as she checked every place that her daughter liked to hide, but she was nowhere! She tried to remain calm, as a scream tore from her throat. Her first thoughts were for the worst. Adem came rushing to her side, looking in the bedroom and asking, 'Where is she?'

'She's gone!' Jean shouted, agony filling her tones as she fought for self-control. 'Oh Adem, you don't think ... you don't think that He could have taken her?' A darkness clouded Adem's face as he considered just which He she meant. 'We don't know anything yet, Jean. Let's just try to remain calm.'

The others were there now also, all looking grave faced as they began to understand the situation. 'The front and back doors are locked!' Jean shouted. 'It couldn't be a kidnapping, so where did she go?'

'I don't know, my darling. Please come and sit down and we'll try to figure out what to do next.'

'We should report her missing, immediately.' Carl suggested. 'Whatever happened, if we don't report it, the finger might start to point at any one of us.' Jean felt nausea wash over her, she stumbled, collapsed into Adem's embrace. Everything went dark.

***

Orion and Tobin were sitting on the side porch in the evening light when their wives returned from picking berries. Both carried their baskets filled to the brim, but Orion's and Tobin's eyes were fixed squarely on the young girl who walked holding hands with Elmira.

'What is this?' Orion asked.

'This young Lady is named Janeanne,' Elmira replied. 'We found her down by the river within Ochre Wood. Can you believe it, like Carl Wilder's Lord Moses?' At the name 'Carl Wilder' the little girl's eyes lit up; she pulled on Elmira's robe as his wife bowed and Janeanne whispered in her ear.

'Yes,' Elmira agreed, speaking to Janeanne, 'Carl Wilder is your daddy's best friend.' At this remark Orion and Tobin sat forward as if both had been suddenly struck by lightning! Orion said carefully, 'You mean; this is?'

'Whose face does she remind you of most?' Elmira asked with a raised brow. Orion looked again, and in the youthful visage he saw the spitting image of a young Jean Fairsythe! 'Tell my husband what your mother's and father's names are,' Elmira instructed the child.

Janeanne crossed both arms over her chest, wearing what looked to be a pale woollen nightgown with images of blue bunny rabbits hopping all over it. 'My father is Adem Highlander,' Janeanne said with a pout. 'My mommy is Jean, she is Adem's wife, and my mommy.'

Orion thought his jaw would hit the wooden decking when he heard those words. He looked to his wife in astonishment as he asked, 'Are they here?'

'They have not returned, yet,' Elmira replied. 'Janeanne says she was at home asleep in her bed when she woke by the river. She says we are in books her father has written. She is still unsure whether we are all some strange dream she is having.' Elmira grinned at the last, before she said to Orion, 'We always wanted a child. Now we have one for our very own.'

'Wait just one moment,' Orion interjected before Elmira narrowed her gaze; speaking over him with a short tone as she replied, 'Who better for the task, husband? It may be a long time before her parents return. We must raise her. We must be her protectors.'

Orion sat back and took a very long puff of his pipe as he worked the muddle through his mind. Tobin punched Orion on the shoulder as he shouted, 'Congratulations, old friend! You're a father!' Orion sat dumbfounded, until he looked at the little girl again, clutching now to Elmira as she stared up at him with big blue eyes and flowing golden hair. Orion gave a deep sigh; then said to his wife, 'Very well then. We'll do our best to raise her.'

Janeanne pushed the side of her round little face against the folds of the robe at Elmira's thigh as she said sullenly, 'I want my mommy.'

***

Adem was at the psychiatrist the next day. He was in a bad way, taking the loss of his child worse than Jean as the night progressed after they made the police report. His psychiatrist made note of the obvious strain on his face, asking Adem 'what he thought had happened to the girl?' at which point Adem decided it was time to be upfront.

After he gave a summary of his previous experience in Kismeria, fighting alongside elves against demons, vampires and werewolves, Adem noted the obvious strain on the face of his psychiatrist. He began scribbling notes frantically as soon as Adem began the tale, finishing with his theory that Jinn-Fendinn had somehow managed to abduct his daughter.

'You think the devil stole your child, Adem?' His psychiatrist asked openly, his eyes wide as he gazed over his spectacles. 'And the devil, your Jinn-Lord; and these other astounding characters, all reside in an alternate dimension, where time moves faster than it does here?'

'It's the only answer I can think of,' Adem replied. 'The doors were all locked. There seems to be no other reasonable answer.'

'And what do you propose to do about it?'

'I have to get back to Kismeria,' Adem said. 'It's the only way we can save her.'

'You say, "we", Adem, do you mean your wife Jean and your companions Carl and Wil, who you swear also joined you on this great adventure?'

'They won't want to discuss it with you, not even Jean. But it's the truth.'

His psychiatrist moved the spectacles back over his eyes as he wrote down more notes before he said, 'I'm admitting you for treatment. I'm not convinced the medication you're on is the right one for you. Bear in mind, you are not in any trouble, as I do not fear for one moment that you had anything to do with the disappearance of your daughter.

'I have spoken to your wife, and she insists that she had checked on your daughter only a short while before she went missing, and that you had been in the living room with your friends the entire time. So, do not be distressed, I'm just doing what I feel is necessary. For now, we'll try a new medication, at a higher dose than your previous medication. You'll be under close observation, and we'll see if things improve, then I'll consider giving my word to allow your release.

'My concern here and now is that the stress of this situation has brought about a psychotic break that has made your stories of fantasy splice with your own perceptions of reality. I could never in my right mind give any credibility to such fanatical and delusional claims.'

Adem clenched his jaw in frustration. There was nowhere he could run to, and if he did, it would only look ever more suspicious and land him in hotter waters. He nodded in acquiescence, not even bothering to dispute the decision. After his psychiatrist made a few calls Adem was taken away in an ambulance.

'You'll tell Jean, won't you?' Adem called to his psychiatrist as he was strapped to a stretcher, his arms cuffed in padded leather and chains.

'Of course, I will tell her, Adem. I'm sure she will be on her way to meet you at the hospital shortly. Have a safe journey. We'll talk soon.'

***

Jean listened to Adem's psychiatrist over the phone. She was trembling. She fought to control her tone in her replies to his questions about Kismeria. He had even asked Jean outright if there were any truth to his claims, to which she was forced to make up lies to preserve her own reputation. She feared it might be a trap by his psychiatrist to try to discern if she was also becoming susceptible to Adem's delusions.

'He's very ill, doctor. I know this. But I really would like him to be released, immediately. I need him by my side at this very difficult time. He's harmless. I don't have any fear that his delusional state of mind could result in any harm against me or his friends.'

'Nevertheless, I have admitted Adem for observation and treatment. I cannot say how long he will remain under close watch and professional care. I have explained to Adem clearly that I have no belief that he was in any way involved in Janeanne's disappearance. I am simply taking steps I deem necessary given his obviously unbalanced state of mind.'

'I understand, doctor.' Jean groaned inwardly. 'When can I see him?'

'He is waiting for you at the hospital now. You may join him whenever you wish. Immediate family can stay with him until lights out. I would advise you strongly to then return home each night and gain sufficient rest to help you endure with your own concerns and suffering. I am very sorry. I hope your daughter is found very soon. Then perhaps I will review your husband with the consideration of release.'

Jean hung up the phone and breathed a sigh of great tension. Carl, Wil and Rosa were all still there. Rosa having slept in Janeanne's bed, Carl in the spare room and Wil on the couch. 'What did he say?' Rosa asked with concern.

'He's locked up,' Jean said with strain in her voice. 'Possibly forever if Janeanne isn't found.'

'Stay close to him every day, as much as you can,' Carl suggested. 'If it turns out to be what we dread most, and each of us starts to see the signs, well, we'll break him out of there if we have to.'

'Will you all come with me to see him now?' Jean asked.

'Of course, we will, Jean,' Rosa replied, short black hair and glistening wet dark eyes that bulged with emotion. Carl had told his wife everything about their adventures in Kismeria. There were no secrets between them. 'Wil, you go with Jean, and Carl and I will follow in our car.'

'I'll need time to pack Adem some clothes and a toothbrush,' Jean said as she made her way to their room.

'Take all the time you need, Jean. We're in no hurry.'

Chapter 1

A Raging Storm

Adem lay in his ward cell. A fierce thunderclap filled the air! A raging storm was blowing in. He wondered if that meant something. It had been weeks since he was first admitted. The meds keeping him mostly sedated so that he was barely able to stay awake. Even during visits from Jean, Carl and Wil.

He sat upright, throwing his legs out over the bedside to stare at the walls of his prison. At least the walls weren't padded. That would only add to the total humiliation of his predicament. He should have kept quiet. He shouldn't have said what he said. But it was far too late to do anything about that now.

His dreams had been disturbing also, nightmarish visions of Kismeria being torn apart in blood and fire. What kind of world would they be returning to face? Would they even get there? Yes, they had to! He had to save Janeanne.

He was certain she was there, and the time that would have passed during these weeks on Earth would make his daughter at least a young woman in Kismerian years. That was heartbreaking to consider, but the fear that Jinn-Fendinn was responsible for her disappearance, pressed at the centre of his chest like an iron vice.

He scratched his stubble covered chin, deciding he should at least shave today. Jean would be here soon for night visitation. Only allowed for family and close friends for patients like him who were considered an exception to the rules. He recalled Jean's voice on the phone earlier in the day when he was allowed to speak with her. There seemed more than just fear in her tone, and he considered it strange that they had not visited him during the day. Had Jean had a vision?

He shivered at the thought; then stood and moved to the basin to wet his face and then added a lather of shaving cream. He was just pressing the blade to his right cheek when the lights flickered, then went out completely! He braced himself for what would come next. A shadow cloaked figure emerged from the endless darkness, wreathed in crimson flame. The High-Servant wore a mask, but it was different to any he remembered. Gold and silver worked with ebony twin ravens diving on both cheeks towards the triangular nose piece. Golden flames burnt within the eye sockets, assuring him this was one of the Hex-Warlords.

The voice that emanated from the figure was deep and powerful, resonating with a force of evil. He was devastating to behold. It made him feel that his skin and flesh were being peeled off by the dark energies, the rise of Jinn-Magic seeping into Adem's bones like dry ice. 'Highlander, we have been expecting you. The hour of your Arrival draws near. Know that when the time comes for you to face me in battle, you will be utterly annihilated! A choice remains for you, an old decision you have yet to make. You have my word that your life will be spared if you will but join with the Magic of the High-Jinn,' there was a soft allure to the tone at the last, as if this creature felt an overwhelming bliss from the Jinn-Magic.

'I will never join you, Corruptor!' Adem shouted. 'You will be defeated this time, just like the last! Only this time, I will kill you all.' There was a cold hard promise in Adem's tone, but the High-Servant laughed, echoing with waves of evil that brought eruptions of fear into Adem's soul. But it was the reply that shook Adem to the core, 'You speak as if you know me. You have never met me before this day. Though I have known you since long ago. I am much stronger than any of the others you might have faced. I hold Angel-Magic to destroy the Sons of Odin before they fulfil the Prophecies. Unless you submit to the will of the High-Jinn, your defeat is inevitable.'

Adem felt the presence of absolute truth in those words, and they filled him with a new sense of dread. Who was this man? He was surely one of the Hex-Warlords, yet he was one who Adem had never faced before. That was true of a few of the High-Servants, but he had faced nearly all of them on the slopes of Kerak'Otozi.

Whether those words were true or not, while in this realm, Adem knew of a Power that was certain to drive this creature from his sight. 'I call on Power of the Lord Jesus Christ! By his name and with his Divine Power I send you back into the Depths of Hell and Fire!' Adem roared those words with outrage and hatred, when suddenly a cataclysmic blast of white light filled the room, stretching off into infinity. The High-Servant roared in desperation: white flames seeming to penetrate his very soul to vanquish his corrupted might. The light flared with incandescence as another terrible roar filled the air, though this was both the cry of the Hex-Warlord combined with the thunder that seemed to vibrate within the very air all around them. The light contracted in an instant at that sound, becoming the size of a glowing speck of dust floating in the darkness. The light of Adem's cell flickered and returned to full glow. He stared at his face in the mirror to see a streak of blood mixing with the lather on his right cheek.

When he had finished shaving and cleaned his face, he did his best to stop the bleeding while he called for assistance. A dark eyed nurse in her early thirties saw to the wound with antiseptic before patching it up. 'You don't need stitches,' she said, 'but it will leave a handsome scar. You must be more careful, Adem.' There were two large men standing guard inside the room also while she worked, both with arms crossed over their chests. They watched Adem like disgruntled bears. It was not that they didn't trust him exactly. They just thought he was mad beyond comparison to most patients in the locked ward, and that was really saying something!

Later, alone with his thoughts, he waited anxiously for Jean to arrive. He lay back on the white sheets, resting his head and closing his eyes when his door opened with a turn of the lock. He opened his eyes to sit upright as Jean entered the room with Carl and Wil close behind. Jean wore blue denim jeans and a dark leather jacket over a white blouse, Adem was still in his pyjamas. Carl wore jeans and a blue shirt with a collar under a black coat. Wil was wearing brown trousers: a green sweater and a collared shirt. There was nothing unusual about their clothing, but their eyes and their faces spoke of a cunning plan that was also instinctive in their movements before any of them had spoken.

Jean urged him to put on the blue jeans, pale blue shirt and black leather jacket she'd brought in a bag. He quickly got dressed and slipped on the sneakers that came with them. 'What's the plan?' Adem asked his friends, knowing they were up to something.

'Has it started for you, yet?' Carl asked him. Adem looked into his friend's eyes and saw a blue sparkle there like lightning. Jean also had the flicker of light to her pale orbs. Wil's flashed golden as thunder filled the air and lightning flared in the hallway, visible through the glass door to his cell. Seeing that golden light in his friend's eyes, Adem suddenly thought of wolves, and he remembered Wil's apparent gift of speaking with animals via his mind. In these lonely days spent in this cell, Adem had begun to doubt his own senses, his memories and experiences. He had started to doubt that any of it was even real. But the magic that flared in their eyes confirmed something for him. They were the Sons of Odin and the Daughter of Thor.

'Have you had visions?' Adem asked in return, to which all of them nodded.

'Each of us has been visited by one of the Hex-Warlords,' Carl replied.

'Me too,' Adem said, choosing not to mention that he was unable to identify the one he had seen only an hour or so before.

'So, it must be nearly the right time!' Jean said with enthusiasm.

'Very likely,' Carl agreed. 'I've even had a few, changes.' At that word, Carl raised his hand. Blue flames flared within his palm. Dancing across his fingertips for a brief moment as Adem stared in puzzlement and awe.

'It has been happening to all of us,' Jean said with controlled glee. 'What about you, Adem?'

'Just the vision,' Adem said, suddenly wondering in panic why he had not also been showing such changes.

'I think I can get us out of here,' Carl said with that gleam to his eyes. 'First, put your gown over your clothes, and wrap yourself in a big white blanket. I'll get the wheelchair.' Already, the plan was beginning to take shape in Adem's mind.

Acting sedated was not difficult. Adem had also been given his usual daily dose by the nurse who saw to his shaving accident, and although the meds had not quite kicked in yet, its effects began to creep up on him as Jean wheeled him through the halls with his friends in tow. Lightning flashed through the high small windows as they proceeded towards the first locked door of the ward.

Jean skirted past that exit however, letting herself and the others be seen by many of the nurses and guards along the way. Telling a few that they were just on their way to the coffee room to sit and chat with Adem while they were allowed to visit. His own cell door had been unlocked when Jean had first arrived, and the guard that opened the door was more than happy for them to take a stroll with Adem in the chair. Adem grinned to himself, so far, they suspected nothing!

While Adem and Jean waited in the coffee lounge with Wil keeping a lookout in the hallway, Carl was busy working at the locked door with his newly developed signs of real magic! Carl had gained incredible knowledge during his time in Kismeria, particularly in all forms of Angel-Magic. Adem knew his friend would work out how to unlock that door. Even with the limited amounts of _teron_ that he might be able wield while here on Earth.

The door he was working on was not guarded, it was a back exit to further sections of supply rooms for nurses and janitors. Carl had apparently been looking at blueprints of the building in the weeks leading up to this attempt. Apparently without suspicion being aroused, however he had managed it. Finally, Wil returned to inform them it was time, and Adem left the wheelchair behind. Their little scheme would be undone the moment they crossed through that door.

Once they were through to the next hallway, and Carl was just closing the door gently behind him, the alarms went off! Adem wasn't sure if they had seen them on security vision, or whether the doors themselves were alarmed, but suddenly the four of them were rushing through the hallways towards the previously designated exit. Shouts of pursuit began in the hallways behind them as they fled. They were crossing a hallway when two largely built guards came rushing towards them! Wil moved like an arrow to hip and shoulder the first one, sending both guards flying backwards as if Wil had the strength of a bear! He even grunted like a wild animal as he forced the two men to the ground where they lay unconscious.

So far none of the other doors were locked leading towards their escape, until they neared the exit, and two doors stood between them and the alleyway, joined by a single long hallway.

Carl was able to get through the first one without much trouble. When they were all on the other side, Carl used a little trick to jam the door, so it could not be opened easily, even with a key. That was fortunate because three burly guards were soon bashing at the glass window of the door and shouting at them to, 'Stop!' and 'Give up!'

The second door took a little more time, but they were able to escape before any more guards had reached the back of the building. They were racing through the alleyway when a police car screeched into view with the lights flashing! Two officers jumped out of the car and pointed their pistols as one shouted over the thunder 'Police! Freeze!'

A bolt of pure white lightning reached down from the heavens in that moment. Striking like a massive trident all around the place where Adem, Jean, Carl and Wil were standing. Light filled Adem's vision. It was suddenly everywhere, and the darkness of the night vanished in the incandescent glow that seemed to stretch off into forever. There was something very familiar about the light. It reminded him of something that had happened to him, long ago, but his thoughts were suddenly hazy. He could not quite remember where it had happened, or even who he was, at this point in time ... He thought he was falling, no flying ... He was soaring through endless light towards another world ... A place where the rules were different. A land where people still remembered honour and justice ... A world of terrible evils. Unspeakable nightmares that walked in the flesh ... He saw then that his friends were by his side also, soaring, or falling through the light, and Jean was there also ... They were going to cross over ... They were entering the Land of Odin!

***

Adem collapsed face down on dry cracked earth. He emptied the contents of his stomach in heaves. His mind still reeling from the transportation method: those last moments had felt like he was a rocket ship hurtling through space at the speed of light! He made his way up on to his knees to wipe his face and get a look around. His companions were also showing signs of travel sickness. It was very different to the first time they had entered this world. The last time it was easy, they were gently eased from one place to another. This time it was a very rough ride!

The storm raged here too. Black clouds billowed overhead as forked silver bolts struck the dark soil, that was marked in places by pools of liquid magma. This had to be the East Lands! That was troubling, but hopefully they would be able to fend for themselves ... He reached for _teron_ , but his mind and soul reached out to clutch at nothing. Something slipped from his grasp as he desperately tried to hold on. 'I can't reach Angel-Magic!' he cried, trying again and finding it was useless.

'Nor can I,' Jean replied, struggling to her feet. The sight was enough to give Adem the strength to stand also.

'It seems beyond my reach!' Adem shouted.

'I know what you mean,' Carl agreed. 'What about you, Wil?'

'I sense it,' Wil shouted over the thunder, 'but it slips from my grasp every time!'

'Then we are in serious trouble,' Jean said. They looked further eastwards, to see the flames surging from the tip of the massive dark peak of Kerak'Otozi. They were only a few miles from Jinn-Fendinn's prison. Orange fires that flowed into the clouds from the tip of the volcano assured them that the Jinn-Lord was close to breaking free again. With the escape of the High-Servants and Hex-Keepers, it would only be a matter of time before the Battle of Ragnarök. A few months or years at most.

They were all on their feet now, gazing at their surroundings with stark horror written on their faces. Adem gritted his teeth with determination. 'We cannot create Portal-Spells without Angel-Magic,' he said, 'and without Angel-Magic we have no hope of summoning _altherin_ horses.'

'So, what do you propose?' Jean asked. Adem thought for a moment, then it struck him. He began to laugh.

'I hope we can all share in the joke, Adem?' Jean asked, with obvious concern. 'Tell me you have something.'

Adem shook his fist at the massive dark peak, shouting with passion, 'You have not won yet!' Then he looked at his companions as he said, 'We still have two options at our disposal. Already I can sense the presence of Shienden, his mind trying to connect with my own. He is far from here, but perhaps, yes, I will summon him. To seek us out and carry us from this place!'

'That is good, Adem,' Jean replied with cool control. 'What is the other option at our disposal?'

—A horrid scream filled the air, followed by thousands more just like it! They turned to look south of their position, to a rise in the landscape to see hundreds of Rahkwel goblins pouring down from the tops of the low hills. Then there were thousands of the seven feet tall creatures, wielding all manner of weaponry. Garbed in green and brown cloaks and leathers, their oval amber eyes glowing like lanterns in the darkness.

Adem grinned, gesturing towards the demon swarm with his right fist before their front ranks had a chance to unshoulder their bows. Crimson flames erupted within the Rahkwel ranks, spouting fifteen feet high as they raced across the ground like a raging red dragon. Flesh was incinerated and bones collapsed in clouds of black ash!

He saw the stunned expressions from his companions before he gestured again. Four Golden Soldiers rose up out of the ground, robots made of pure gold. Aiming laser cannon arms at the goblins, beams of crimson light cut through chests and torsos with ease and precision. Congealed chunks of flesh and metal falling in the wake of destruction! It had taken him a little while to remember, after the disorienting experience of the journey. But Adem had soon recalled his _other_ ability. That which did not require _teron_ that he called matter manipulation. He still had the means to defend himself and those he loved.

—Horns sounded from the west! Adem looked to see thousands more Rahkwel marching towards them, Fendinn was weaving his traps already. A Souljhin rode amongst the advancing army. Adem wanted to tear that one down immediately, when he shouted in frustration, 'If only I could summon Arawn!' A bolt of red flame touched down from the clouds, taking the form of a man only head and shoulders taller than Adem. Garbed in a dark hooded cloak with the familiar rune covered gauntlets and mask of silvered steel. Adem shouted in wonder, 'Arawn?' The Battle Angel was so diminished in size from Adem's memory that he was shocked and speechless. Arawn drew a sword that glowed wicked crimson, standing in a defensive position between Adem and Jean. He spoke in a deep tone as he shouted to Adem, 'Summon the others, quickly! We will aid you as best we can!'

Jean seemed to understand, and she quickly cried the name, 'Tanriel!' as Carl and Wil shouted, 'Math Mathonwy!' and 'Eledisren!' Something had changed, Adem knew it the moment the others arrived. Not only were all of the male Battle Angels now shorter and smaller in size, but they were also more ... Human! It seemed they were becoming _mortal!_

Math and Dis Pater appeared beside Carl and Wil as twin bolts of lightning fell from the skies. Both Battle Angels looked very much like they had before, only they were much smaller, both only slightly taller than Carl or Wil. Their clothes and weapons no longer appeared so ... Enchanted. Dis Pater wielded his double-edged golden axe, and Math his Hellfire spear, but the old light that had once glowed there was nearly faded completely. It was the same with their bodies. They no longer radiated light and magic, they appeared ... Solid, of flesh and bone! Tanriel was the same, and her wings were gone! The sight was utterly perplexing to Adem's mind.

'What has happened to you all?' Jean asked in astonishment. The Rahkwel were raging with bloodlust now, though the presence of the Battle Angels seemed to fill them with caution.

'The Magic of the Jinn-Lord grows,' Tanriel replied. 'Our Ancient Lore begins to wither and fade. We cannot aid you as we once did, but we still have some might to display when Odin permits us. You can summon any one of us whenever you are in need. We will come if we are able, or, if not us, then another will be sent in our stead,' there was a kind of sweetness to her tone, but there was also fierce courage. Her burning blue orbs showed the last of the magic that blazed in her soul.

Tanriel raised a red gauntlet. A crimson spear appeared in her grasp. She aimed to throw; red flames glowed within the crystal weapon. 'We are free from our Resting Points,' Tanriel continued. 'Angel-Magic is no longer needed for you to summon us to battle.' Tanriel leapt twice her body height into the air. Blue burning wings appeared briefly on her shoulders, carrying her a little higher. The spear flew from her fist at the highest point, striking the demon ranks like a missile to explode in a small rupture of red lightning. Bolts that brought confusion and chaos amongst the Rahkwel ranks. Yet it caused only the slightest destruction, wounding no more than two dozen! It seemed incomprehensible. How far had the Battle Angels fallen from their former might?

He watched in horror as the answer came swiftly, Rahkwel charging towards them were knocked down systematically by blasts of golden and crimson fire that flew from Math's spear and Dis Pater's axe swings. The attacks were short precise expressions of Angel-Magic: cutting down individual demons with utter annihilation. The sheets and cords of magic were bright and obliterating. But the Old Might of Battle Angels would have taken out a hundred or more with similar amount of effort! Math and Dis Pater attacked the Rahkwel descending from the south. Arawn sent bars of illuminated crimson launching from his sword as he harried the demons advancing from the west. The blasts of fire tore through four Rahkwel at a time at the most! It was pitiful! Adem groaned inwardly to see that his greatest allies were reduced now in their capacities to something similar to moderately gifted Seidr wielders!

'Where are your Spirit Wardens?' Adem cried in desperation, to which Arawn shouted a deep booming reply of, 'We have not yet obtained enough _ki'mera_. In that ability we are also now greatly diminished. In our world, an Age has passed during your absence. It has been over one thousand years since last we met! Much has changed. You will need to learn to adapt to those changes.' Adem watched the _ki'mera_ souls flow towards the Battle Angels from the slain goblins, small ripples of floating light in incandescent colours. How much did they require?

'Why can't we sense Angel-Magic?' Adem asked Arawn.

'That is something we cannot explain!' Arawn replied. 'It is something quite new. Only three years have passed since the wielders of this world lost the ability to sense _teron_ and _terael_.'

'Lost?' Adem asked in terror. 'All of them?' He lashed out with Golden Soldier laser beams, cutting Rahkwel into slices of congealed flesh and bone! He took down hundreds in seconds, but thousands were surging towards them now from both directions. Tanriel hurled another three crimson spears during this time. Each impacting in a blast of lightning that barely managed to take down a handful of enemies each time. As _ki'mera_ flowed towards the four Battle Angels, Adem's old connection to Arawn sparked a sense of their Elemental Magic becoming enhanced. He suddenly felt them form a Link!

Thunder roared as four bolts of lightning fell to strike the Battle Angels where they stood. It was nothing compared to the storm of an old Link. But suddenly Tanriel had wings of flame once more; soaring over thirty feet straight up! She hurled a single crimson Flame Spear that split to become four spears; striking the ground blade down. Waves of golden-orange flames blasted sideways to strip demon flesh from bone! That was more like it! That attack had taken out fifty or more enemies with each spear. It was a heartening thing to witness. Energy beams launched from the weapons of the male Battle Angels increased in size and strength. Blasting thirty or more goblins with each strike of golden or crimson fire.

Four massive king male lions with thick dark manes charged from Arawn's form. Six Shadow Hounds of dark sleek fur standing as tall as a pony charged southwards up the hillside; tearing Rahkwel flesh into bleeding shreds. Adem did not know whether to laugh or cry. It was terrifying to see this pitiful excuse for a Link! His Golden Soldiers cut down hundreds more of the enemy as they began to halt in terror of his destructive capacities. He knew it was him they feared, as these Battle Angels were sadly little more than an annoyance to their evil intent.

Two problems he now faced were that his medication was creeping up on him. He feared he might soon fall unconscious, despite the stimulating nature of the situation, or at least collapse. The other concern was that he might require rest before these new stores of _ki'mera_ could be of use against more demons; if this battle continued much longer.

—The thunder of hooves filled the air! Adem looked to the northwest to see over three hundred riders advancing with great speed. Much faster than the charging Rahkwel also approaching from the west, though, they were not moving fast enough for any of those horses to be _altherin_. That realisation also filled him with dread. He wondered why there would be no _altherin_ amongst Borderland riders. Though he also knew these were not Shadow Riders. They wore a variation of the _ghoda'sidhe_. Black armoured and dark cloth garbed warriors formed a perimeter around Adem and his companions. Each rider stepping down to move their horse to the centre of the circle where the war trained beasts calmly waited. Undisturbed by the storm or the cries of bloodthirsty demons.

It took a moment for Adem to recognise their dark coats, and the three enamelled pins on their high collars, the Wolf, Lion and Dragon Rohjor sigils. These men were Alit'aren! They drew long swords very reminiscent of an ancient samurai _katana_ blade. Black wrapped hilts in criss-cross style with dark helmets shaped like bullets: dark dragon wings rising above the ear guards. A solid dark steel _mengu_ style faceguard also covered the lower half of their faces. Adem noticed the different colours of the masks, _kote_ gauntlets and sometimes their _do_ style cuirass. Similar to old styles of the _ghoda'sidhe_ but also looking much like ancient Japanese warriors. He also noticed the small red crystal stones that studded their gauntlets and greaves. Sometimes they also covered parts of their cuirass like jewelled ornaments. Adem wondered at this, when one of the men removed his faceguard and helmet. A Torvellen Immortal, his large dark eyes probing Adem's visage before he shouted, 'Adem Highlander?'

'Yes!' Adem replied. The man glanced at his companions before he said, 'You must leave the rest of the battle in our hands. It is a matter of honour for the men to be your protectors and to ensure your rescue.'

'Who do you serve?' Adem asked the man, to which the reply came, 'We serve Lord Rodriel Tarz, High Captain-General of the Forsaken Alit'aren.' Lightning flared behind the man as a terrible clap of thunder filled the air.

Adem was grateful for their arrival. Screams of hundreds of Nymloc suddenly sounded from the northern rise. Adem looked there to see demons black as tar charging towards them with unnatural speed. Their eyes flaring like burning coal. There were Boli-Kuldr amongst them. Adem looked northwards. He saw those demons behave in a way he did not expect. They suddenly changed direction. Charging now southeast, around Adem and his companions and towards the hillsides. Where the bulk of the Rahkwel forces were still gathering.

The Boli-Kuldr and Nymloc were less in number than the goblin ranks, but Adem heard fear in the snarls of the green skinned Rahkwel and he saw terror in their lamplight eyes. Demons closed with their ranks and began to bite, claw and hack through the goblins with a ferocity that spoke of demon mind control. Adem realised some moments before that these Alit'aren were wielding the Jinn Arts.

He looked to Jean to see her scowl of disapproval. Adem raised a cautionary hand. Then his eyebrows, as he gestured around him, to help her better consider the desperate nature of their predicament. Adem wondered how it was still possible to wield the Jinn Arts when these men had not been able to touch _teron_ for years. But he put these thoughts aside as he heard Shienden speaking to his mind. His words now clear for the first time since Adem's return to Kismeria.

Welcome, Father. I have long awaited your return!

Adem looked to the skies where he sensed the dragon. A great dark-emerald lizard shape with blue batwings spanning over forty paces swooped down towards the battlefield. Incandescent blue Dragon-Flame launched from Shienden's massive jaws: vaporizing Rahkwel still advancing from the west. Corrosive sheets of blue blazing heat struck the fields of demons to obliterate their ranks in pillars of smoking ash. Shienden's attack took down the bulk of that horde, blood and bone reduced to burning char in seconds.

A small horde of the Rahkwel had closed ranks with the protective circle of Alit'aren. Adem soon saw that these men were perhaps more skilled in their wielding of swords than even the ancient Agnars. They moved with supernatural speed, both the immortal warriors and those that Adem guessed were mortal. Until he noted their speed and skill, realising then that many of these men must be half-bloods. Meaning that immortals and mortals had begun to mix the bloodlines once more.

This thought was distracted when Tanriel suddenly shouted to Jean, 'We must return to the High and Low Realm. Our aid here is all but extinguished. Forgive me, Jean Fairsythe! Much has changed during your absence.' Arawn, Dis Pater and Math Mathonwy returned to the earth in bores of molten fire. Tanriel moved into the clouds on a beam of blue flames. Their exit taking only moments before Adem shouted, 'What the hell is going on around here?' His chest burned with panic. _No Power! The Battle Angels are ... useless!_ He looked to the dark mountain once more as he roared with outrage: 'What have you done? Curse you, Lord of Despair!'

The Alit'aren still fought off the advancing Rahkwel with quicksilver speed and swordsmanship that defied all rational belief. Swords hacking vast wounds through goblin torsos. Blood and limbs flying in their wake to pile at their feet like trophies. They moved so fast at times that Adem was unable to even guess what sword form they were using. He saw many already that he had never been taught. It was confirmation to Adem also of just how much everything must have changed. In the old days, Alit'aren were rarely Agnars. They had never needed to be with lightning in their veins. It was also proof to Adem that some hope remained in the blood of Kismerian warriors. They had learnt to adapt; replacing fire with steel, muscle and sweat. Perhaps they had even become a harder people.

He would have to find out.

Some of those blades were enchanted also, but many were not. Another confirmation that Angel-Magic was lost to them. Alit'aren would always carry a sword infused with Fire-Magic over ordinary forged steel. It meant some of these men had been raised to Alit'aren in the last three years, and the swords that were made for them were simply forged steel. Making it much harder to kill a real demon, though they had no trouble against Rahkwel. Bodies collapsed as dark blood sprayed in unison with swipes of gleaming blades.

Shienden swooped again to purge the demon threat that remained to the south. Blue flames covering the earth in blankets of light that incinerated flesh and bone, including those under mind control. The Torvellen leader pressed a fist to breastplate as he said to Adem, 'I advise you to ride with us, Adem Highlander. We shall escort you to the Borderlands to speak with Lord Tarz. He will be more than glad to know that you have returned.'

'How did you know me on sight?' Adem asked.

'My father described your faces to me many times before he died. My name is Kien Modrellock. My father was Torin, a good friend of yours.' The man then leant towards Adem to whisper in his ear, 'My father was also your spy, if his stories are to be believed.' Adem's chest ached to think of another friend lost. If it turned out Torin was murdered for being discovered, Adem would have retribution. He knew with those words that Kien was who he claimed to be. Recognising the Ruhalden blood and his father's eyes, despite the fact that at first, he had appeared pure Torvellen. He gave the man his trust as he signalled to his companions. Jean rode in the saddle in front of Adem on a tall dark stallion. Carl and Wil were given mounts of their own. Other riders doubled up after providing their mounts for the Sons and Daughter. As they rode westward Adem's mind was fraught with outrage and disorder! He wanted to tear his own hair out! Or someone else's hair. Preferably someone he hated!

'What has happened to this world?' Jean whispered to herself. Twin silver lightning bolts struck the earth in the distance, carving out a face of shadows. It reminded Adem that Fendinn must be watching.

_He can see through my eyes, after all. He can see through all of our eyes._ He began to wonder then, if this time, their efforts truly were without hope.

