 
Book Two of the Sons of Odin

Angel-Magic Edition

L. A. Hammer

Copyright 2013 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 TWO

Prologue —To Stage a Rescue

Chapter 1—Out of Darkness

Chapter 2—Into the Light

Chapter 3—The Death of Two Kings

Chapter 4—To Find the Source

Chapter 5—Hayley's Curse

Chapter 6—To Forge Leadership

Chapter 7—The Immortal Prince

Chapter 8—To Hunt a Vampire King

Chapter 9—To Find a Cure

Chapter 10—Watcher in the Dark

Chapter 11—Crossing the Ravine

Chapter 12—The Ruhalden King

Chapter 13—The Vampire Coven

Chapter 14—To Gain a Hero

Chapter 15—To Escape Defeat

Chapter 16—Odin Quest

Chapter 17—Shadow Swarm

Chapter 18—Dark Titans

Chapter 19—The Dragon Rises

Chapter 20—Falling Back

Chapter 21—To Stand and Fight

Chapter 22—Hero Chain

Chapter 23—The Angel of Death

Chapter 24—To Save a Hero

Epilogue

BOOK THREE

Prologue —Calliach

Chapter 1—Handling Isabelle

Chapter 2—Taming the Dragon

Book Two is for all my friends, who have ever shared the dream.

I dedicate Book Three to my good friend, Nathan.

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

Book Two of the Sons of Odin

Druantia's Curse

Angel-Magic Edition

L. A. Hammer

Prologue

To Stage a Rescue

Jothar Kelderath sat behind the large carved oak desk within his tent, situated in the heart of the Ael Tarael camp, on the borders of Corsair. He looked over scout reports of the fortifications and soldier positions of the armies of the new Chief of Corsair, Keljar El'Koto.

It was only the first morning after the night that the Saviours and the Immortal Kings and Queens had arrived at Auglem Watch, with a small host of bodyguards, including some wielders, though some of those reports included eye witnesses to the chief sitting in his gilded throne, with the weapons of the Saviours positioned around his body, like ornamental relics. The Aldebrands who had made those sightings—after scaling the fortress walls in the night and peering through the windows of the keep—insisted there could be no mistaking those weapons for any other than the property of Adem Highlander, Carl Wilder, Wil Martyr, and Jean Fairsythe.

Those weapons housed the spirits of the Battle Angels who served the Sons of Odin and the Daughter of Thor. They would never leave those weapons unguarded, and certainly never in the hands of this madman El'Koto. So, Jothar's worst fears were confirmed, the Chosen had become prisoners of this mad chief. That the man was mad there could be no doubt, even his soldiers admitted their chief was a rabid wolf that needed to be put out of its misery. Any man who would take the Chosen as prisoners, was madness right down to his boots!

He crumpled the report in his right fist as he shouted for his First Lieutenant to, 'Enter!' Bordin Crempler entered, to salute with a straight spine, as Jothar began to bark orders at the man. Crempler was slightly taller than himself, a fact that irked Jothar every time he stood face to face with the man. Today the young man wore a bright red silk coat, with white cuffs and golden buttons, dark trousers and knee-high leather boots. His angular shaved face and dark eyes gave him the appearance of a loyal hound, with his thick down curving moustache. 'Start moving the men into position!' Jothar shouted. 'Prepare to invade! Take that border riff raff hostage and keep them guarded within the soldiers' camp! Go! Move it man! Now! That's an order!'

The poor fellow twitched nervously at every command, still saluting furiously until he exited with the look of a man who wished he'd never joined the legions. He always looked that way when Jothar was in a mood, and today Jothar was so outraged, he felt he might remove the head of the first man who slipped up in his presence.

No!—It was El'Koto's head he wanted to plant on the end of a spear, to put on display for all the peoples of Auglem Watch to admire, as they cheered for joy at the death of the mad usurper. Yes, he would make it just so, by sunset this day, he would make amends to this travesty. He sat pondering his victory while waiting for those other two. Maldros and Morthros were his least favourite of allies, though he needed their expertise now more than ever. If they began to bicker in his presence, he just might start by taking off either one of their heads. He smiled at the thought of it, a wicked grin ... when suddenly the two men came bustling in through the tent flaps in their armour and cloaks. Maldros wore silvered armour, over a coat with puffy sleeves of blue-and-red stripes, his cloak also blood-red. Morthros wore a dark green coat and cloak, with bronzed armour embossed with charging rams.

The two men looked at one another as if they had been arguing the entire way to his tent. Both appeared quite stricken with grief over the current situation also. To Jothar's shock, both men offered him salutes! So, they were deferring to his leadership at this juncture. He would remind them both of that whenever they strayed in the future.

The scouts had been sent to follow the Saviours on their three-day journey to Auglem Watch. Jothar had sent them as a precaution. Their altherin bred horses had made the same journey back to camp in a matter of hours, though he didn't wish to see the state of the animals after being pushed so hard. It would take a further six days for the entire army to reach the fortified walls, so his only option was to send a small army of wielders on altherin horses, with a substantial guard to protect them, while a rescue team of Aldebrands and Alit'aren try to infiltrate the keep.

They would reach the walls of Auglem Watch by midday, if they allowed the horses to rest for part of the journey. His plan was to arrive in half that time, as they could not waste a single moment. A second wave of soldiers and wielders would arrive by the afternoon, to secure the region in case El'Koto's armies tried to retake the capital. The rest of the camp would make the journey towards Auglem Watch, where they would hold the region until order was restored.

'We await your orders, Jothar.' Maldros said.

'The orders have already been given.' Jothar replied. 'The fate of Kismeria rests on our shoulders, gentlemen. If we fail in this task, all is lost.'

'We have heard your plan of attack, Captain Jothar,' Morthros said with a twitching of his moustache, 'but we see some risks there. What if this El'Koto decides to murder the Sons and Daughter before we can reach them?'

'That is precisely why we must move now!' Jothar barked in irritation. So, it seemed they were not going to let the day pass without judging his every decision as appointed leader! He was hardly surprised at this, though it caused his rage to bubble and stew, like a hot pot over open flames.

'But surely there is still the possibility of reasoning with El'Koto,' Maldros said with obvious strain and extreme concern. 'However mad he may be, he will have to accept that our forces will wipe him out soon enough!'

'In my experience,' Jothar replied through clenched jaws, 'madmen have little care for death or defeat. Of course, I have considered reasoning with the man! I have even sent messengers to attempt such a feat! But I know in my heart that he will not see the sense of reason. He will dig in his heels, and harden his heart, until we are without any other option but to take back our leaders in a desperate struggle.' His last sentence was said with a new level of calm, though his teeth were still clenched, as each word seethed through in pure angst and waning tolerance for such interruptions.

'Well, if you see it that way, we will back you as far as we can go,' Maldros said, after a deep sigh, as Morthros straightened his spine to salute again which gave Jothar pause to relax a little more.

Jothar then used the large map on his desk to run through the marked positions of Jothar's forces, and the army of mostly mortal farmers, belonging to El'Koto. Jothar's forces were marked by blue figurines, taken from a large game of mohrthra'daeghal, while El'Koto's army was displayed with red figurines. Just looking at this example on the map, it was clear Jothar's army was superior in number, and ability, as his was an army formed mostly of Nordics, some of the finest and strongest warriors in all of Kismeria, and the mortal warriors amongst their ranks were also revered as some of the greatest in the land.

It was clear therefore that El'Koto's plan was fatally flawed, and this made Jothar consider the possibility of a grand scheme by Jinn-Fendinn, as even more plausible. However, if Fendinn knew the Sons and Daughter were held helpless in dark prison cells, he would likely have already sent his Souljhin into those prisons.

His intelligence gave no suggestion that this had already occurred, though the possibility of this becoming the next move of the Jinn-Lord caused greater fear, as he suddenly smashed a number of red figurines aside with a swipe of his right hand. He stood fuming at his companions as he began to shout, 'We must move now, gentlemen! The risks are more serious than I had up till now considered. If Fendinn were to learn of this predicament, just think what he might throw against the Sons and Daughter!'

The realisation seemed to dawn upon the two men, who saluted once more with breastplates raised like a pair of plovers, before all three men began to march from the tent with extremely agitated vigour.

***

Talegon Mobritha, Aldebrand and personal bodyguard to King Orion Demon-Slayer, was in a foul mood this morning, as he scaled the walls of Auglem Watch for the second time in a matter of hours. He knew he would have been just as helpless if he had joined the king when they first arrived at the keep, though he still blamed himself for not being there. Garbed in the ghoda'sidhe, black material tightly wrapped about his arms and legs, the only parts of his body that would appear visible—even in broad daylight—were his eyes, and his bright emerald mask and gauntlets of lacquered steel. This was the result of the enchantment upon the warrior garb, identical to the Aldebrand cloaks in its crafting; that made the shadow-like material blend with its surroundings, to create a perfect camouflage. He could have made the disguise more complete by wrapping the same material about his mask and gauntlets, though this interfered with the code of honour that every Aldebrand and Alit'aren lived by.

His only weapon was his longsword strapped across his back, also wrapped in the same camouflage material, except for the golden hilt above his shoulder. Any guards on the walkways who spotted him would take some time before they understood the threat he posed.

Further along the walkway, Kelflax, Orion's other bodyguard, hauled himself over the wall to land and crouch, his mauve mask and gauntlets the only parts of him visible on that stone path. Talegon raised his right gauntlet to signal to Kelflax, raising three fingers and pointing to his right, which meant there were three guards in sight in that direction. Kelflax raised his purple steel gauntlet, with two fingers raised as he pointed in the opposite direction.

Talegon crouched, watching Kelflax creep along the walkway behind one of the soldiers; garbed in dark leather with a steel breastplate, armed with a crossbow. Keeping himself hidden required a twisting of the limbs from time to time to keep the camouflage material facing the sightlines of the enemy. Kelflax was also skilled at moving silently.

When the first soldier fell from the wall, his scream alerted the second. Kelflax drew his sword and charged towards the man, who stood with a confused expression, holding the crossbow bolt pointed downwards. Kelflax's blade glinted in the morning light, denting the steel conical helmet worn by the guard, flecks of blood spurting outwards as the second man fell to his death.

Talegon watched as Kelflax sheathed his blade, and crept onwards along the walkway, towards the staircase that would lead to the dungeons beneath the Keep of Auglem Watch. Talegon crouched and waited as the other three guards began to charge towards him, seeing no danger, only hearing the screams of their fallen comrades. These three had their swords drawn, and they ran in blindly. Talegon was relieved at this, as he would have had trouble dodging their crossbow bolts, if the two behind spotted him while he dealt with the first. He waited, until the first was within reach, and then stood to strike the man across the throat with the blade bone of his right hand. The man stood gasping, his sword clanging to the paved stones. Talegon gripped the man by the shoulder and waist belt, hauling him up and over the wall. The man screamed as he fell. The other two charging men slowed in confusion, still not seeing his form completely.

In that moment Talegon charged forwards, crossing the distance between him and the second guard, drawing his sword as he ran. His blade cleaved through the leather vest worn by the second guard, who fell to his knees as Talegon leapt over him to raise the sword high above the third guard, who was fumbling for his crossbow.

'Mercy!' the guard shouted, as he also fell to his knees, the crossbow falling from his trembling grasp. 'Please, show mercy,' the man begged, raising his palms in prayer position.

'You will show me the location of the Sons of Odin and the Daughter of Thor,' Talegon said. 'The Immortal Kings and Queens also, if you attempt to deceive me, you will die slowly and painfully. Do you understand?'

'Yes,' the man said with a relieved expression, 'I will show you where they are, I promise.'

Talegon made a bird noise, a signal to Kelflax. He saw his friend raise his mauve gauntlet. Thunder roared a moment after; Talegon looked to the fields surrounding the keep, seeing Kelderath's horsemen facing a much larger force of farmer warriors.

Though, Kelderath's forces were mostly formed of wielders, Alit'aren to help form shields from arrows and spears—in accordance with the decree—and Ael Tarael to scare this farmer army into submission to avoid bloodshed. The earth heaved, and walls of fire erupted ten feet high, flowing towards the farmer warriors like a golden wave.

Lightning flared in the sky, dozens of blue bolts that moved closer to the defenders of the keep with every strike. It was a warning, and a distraction. Talegon and Kelflax were supposed to have waited for this signal before scaling the walls, though they burnt with rage to rescue their king from this madman El'Koto.

When Kelflax reached him, Talegon turned to explain that they would follow this soldier to the dungeons where they would stage a rescue. 'There are wielders down there,' the soldier insisted. 'Alit'aren, they hold the Shield-Traps over the Chosen. You will need wielders strong at forming Shield-Spells to defeat those men.' Talegon looked left and right to see the ghoda'sidhe masks and gauntlets of more Aldebrands and some Alit'aren reaching the tops of the walls. 'How many hold each Shield-Trap?' Kelflax asked.

'Three linked Alit'aren for every captured wielder,' was the man's nervous reply.

'Gather the Alit'aren strong at wielding Shield-Spells,' Talegon instructed his friend. 'We will attempt to overpower them, one group at a time.'

Something whisked through the air past his face, a crossbow bolt struck the arm of one of the nearby Aldebrands. The man fell to his knees as his form became the shadow-like material, blood gushing from the wound.

'Get those gates open, now!' Talegon shouted. Soldiers began rushing towards them on both sides of the walkway, crossbows raised as they shouted and pointed at the fallen Aldebrand. Talegon leapt for the highest rooftop within the walls of the keep, he landed and rolled off the side of the roof to catch himself with his free hand, clinging to the stone and hanging over forty feet above the pavement. Crossbow bolts whisked past his head, striking the stones where he held his grip.

***

Terese Marheildon, once known as Terese Sapphire-Sword, crouched low in her cell of darkness. The shouts and footfalls alerted her to the presence of guards; she was certain rescue was on its way.

Her immortal ears detected Angel-Magic being wielded on the fields surrounding Auglem Watch, she knew it would be Ael Tarael either intimidating or annihilating the farmer army that stood defending the walls of the keep. She did not hear the screams of men or horses, which suggested those Angel-Magics were only intended to frighten the defenders into submission. A wise plan, it would be difficult to restore order in this region if they began by slaughtering soldiers with Angel-Magic.

Damn that mad bloody fool El'Koto!

It infuriated her that they had been so easily duped by the charade of peace that the mad chief had lured them in with. Fear for Jean's life kept her rage boiling like a hot kettle. There were no Alit'aren to guard her, her limited use of Angel-Magic was not perceived as any kind of threat.

There was little she could do to get herself out of this situation; other than startle the guards with Fire-Magic, so small they would only be an annoyance. In her past lives she had been an Archer of various clans, wielding arrows of fire from a Lukrorian Bow, though she was always more skilled with the sword, and her abilities were always limited to a tiny spark of Angel-Magic, compared to most immortals of that Age. Her only hope was to wait for rescue. She prayed that she could save Jean in time ... and the others.

The Sons of Odin were equally important to fulfilling the Prophecies, though she cared for Jean like the woman was a little sister who needed her protection. Well, Jean needed it now, perhaps more than she ever would again. Terese began to grind her teeth in frustration, wriggling in the ropes that bound her wrists behind her back. She could easily escape those with tiny slices of Fire-Magic to cut through her bonds, and she had done so twice already, which only resulted in a beating by one of the guards. Her rib cage ached; she feared some bones were fractured. It seemed beyond belief that these soldiers would willingly assault women who were not guilty of any crime.

Perhaps they're all mad.

Her breathing became laboured as a result of the pain in her ribs.

She heard shouts in the hallways outside her cell, the guards also heard, though they seemed reluctant to leave her unguarded. Finally, one of the men left though the heavy iron door, the hallway filled with the sounds of clashing steel and the screams of dying men. The sounds were becoming more distant, as if the fight was moving beyond her cell. She decided it must be because she had no wielders hold her with a Shield-Trap. Rescuers would not sense Angel-Magic in this area, so they would move on to cells where they knew Alit'aren were standing guard. Those would be the cells that held the Sons of Odin and the Daughter of Thor, which would be their primary objective.

Her mind began to race at the possibilities of teron being thrown around so close to where Jean was imprisoned. Jean could be torn apart by Angel-Magic during such a battle! I have to get to her, she thought desperately. These fools could bungle any plan no matter how cleverly it was devised.

Then a plan struck her, she wondered how it had taken so long for her to see it. She began to wield Fire-and-Air-Magic, an intricate series of Angel-Spells, first to blend her form with the dark stone walls, as she began to force herself to stand. A slice of Fire-Magic released her from her bonds, then she created even more complex Angel-Magics, to produce a mirror image of herself, formed of Fire-and-Air-Magic, standing outside the cell and facing the guard. The white robed man drew his sword and started to shout, 'How did you manage to escape?' Stepping forward he moved close enough to the prison bars for her plan to succeed.

Her real self, still inside the cage, reached out to pull him towards the bars with both hands. She considered snapping his neck, though she had time to cut off his air supply with an arm around his throat, knocking him out, so she could retrieve his cell keys from his waist belt. She did not like to kill pawns in situations where they could be spared, even this one who had seen to her beating.

He was just following orders, she told herself, as she unlocked the cell door and moved to take his sword. She would have to exercise restraint when facing these Alit'aren who held Jean captive, provided she was able to secure wielders to create Shield-Spells to hold the traitors. To run them through with the blade would be to go against the decree of the Immortal Kings, that even mad or evil Alit'aren must be spared if they could be captured rather than killed.

Just following orders, she thought to herself, grinding her teeth as she opened the door to peer into the hallway of darkness and terrified screams.

***

Tobin Fire-Heart, King of the Nordics, listened to the sounds of battle taking place in the hallways surrounding his cell. Rescue would come soon, and he would have vengeance against the mad fool El'Koto for this injustice. He feared for the safety of the Sons of Odin and the Daughter of Thor, for the hope of Kismeria rested on their shoulders, yet his greatest fear was that his dear wife Lydia may be badly wounded, or worse ... He stood from his crouched position; his hands bound behind his back with a course rope. The Shield-Trap held by the three linked Alit'aren outside his cell made it impossible for him to touch teron.

If he could reach for Angel-Magic, he would fill this hallway with blasts of flame; stripping flesh from these traitorous bones. Still, three linked mortal wielders of their strength were sufficient to keep Angel-Magic beyond his reach, though he did try, despite the pain they sent through his flesh, like thousands of white-hot needles inside his body and mind. He ignored the pain. He laughed at them; snarled like a feral wolf.

'Release me!' he bellowed. 'If my wife has been harmed, you will hang before the sun sets this day!'

One of the men shouted from the shadows, 'Silence, Tobin Fire-Heart!' More pain followed, pulsating through his mind and flesh. The punishment lasted so long this time, he thought he might cry out to beg for mercy. Suddenly the pain vanished—and in that stunned moment that the Alit'aren began to groan in the shadows—he felt the Shield-Trap vanish also, allowing him to reach for Angel-Magic.

Teron flooded his veins, frozen rivers and burning rain, the ropes fell away from his hands. The Alit'aren outside his cell must have been held by Shield-Spells crafted by other wielders in the hallway. Tobin's thirst for vengeance overpowered his restraint. A ball of flame hovered in midair outside the cell, giving him clearer view of the three Alit'aren in their dark coats and trousers. He harnessed enough Angel-Magic to melt the iron bars to burning slag within seconds. As he was stepping over the hissing sludge of the ruined cell, the hallway door opened to reveal the face of Terese Sapphire-Sword, wielding a steel sword and followed by two Aldebrands in a purple and jade mask of the ghoda'sidhe.

'Where is King Orion?' The emerald masked one asked, Tobin recognising the voice as Talegon, one of Orion's bodyguards. The other was surely Kelflax.

'I don't know,' Tobin said, as he moved to draw a sword from the belt of one of the Alit'aren. 'I must find my wife first. Who will help me?' Talegon and Kelflax made vexed noises through their masks—they would be anxious to rescue Orion and Elmira—then both bowed their heads as Talegon said, 'Of course, we will search for your wife, King Tobin.'

'We are looking for Jean first and foremost,' Terese interjected. 'Any we find before then will be rescued, but we question every guard we can capture as to the location of the Daughter of Thor.'

'Lead the way,' Tobin said, with a slight tilt of his head; a sign of submission to her demands.

***

Orion Demon-Slayer, King of the Torvellen, strode through the hallways of the dungeons of Auglem Watch like a phantom. He held more Angel-Magic than he should have without the aid of a Battle Angel, or a wielding artefact to enhance his control, but he did not care for the risks. His soul burned to find his wife.

'Elmira?' he cried; flinging a spell of Fire-Magic at the seven guards that charged towards him. The bolt flew through their silvered breastplates—an arrow of golden flame as thick as his forearm—to blast all seven into ashes that floated and flared in the dark hallway.

Behind him marched the five Alit'aren who had rescued him from his cell. They had wielded Healing-Magic for his bruises, and the fracture in his skull where he was struck when first captured. The three traitorous Alit'aren who had held his shield before then were wrapped in chambers of Fire-Magic the moment Orion was able to wield. With teron flooding his veins, Jinn-Magic was enhanced to amounts that made him want to vomit in disgust. Jinn-Magic filled his mind also, making him dance on the precipice of sanity—he unleashed another spell that enveloped four guards in a tunnel of burning emerald, the men melted into vapour in a flickering halo—as he fought for control of his wits within the ecstasy of teron. 'Elmira!' he shouted. 'Elmira! Where are you my love?'

Chapter 1

Out of Darkness

'Silence, Adem Highlander!' Ekron shouted, stepping forward into the amber torchlight. Pain flooded Adem's mind and body, hot filaments of energy, like holding onto an electric fence. He screamed in agony, begging them to stop, when suddenly the pain ended, and at the same time his Shield-Trap vanished!

As he reached for Angel-Magic—rivers of lava and hail of ice rushed through his core, Jinn-Magic so foul he had to heave for breath—his hands were cut free, a ball of light appeared in midair amongst the three Alit'aren. They were held by Shield-Spells crafted from Angel-Magic, and their hands were tied at their sides with folds of Air-Magic.

He gestured with his left hand, a pushing motion that flung the cell door off its hinges with a flash of sparks. He drew the sword that hung from the belt of one of the Alit'aren.

His right arm was useless, and he had received little training to wield a blade using only his left hand, but it gave him some sense of security. He opened the door to the hallway with keys taken from the same Alit'aren, peering out into a scene of shadows and fire. Orion walked surrounded by a blue-white nimbus, his dark eyes looked crazed. The tall man gestured towards a number of soldiers who charged down the hallway, and a moment later those men were wreathed in walls of emerald fire. Their screams were filled with agony.

The wielder moved closer towards Adem's door, with more warriors garbed in the ghoda'sidhe behind him. In the torchlight, Adem made out the face of the man who held more Angel-Magic than any man should hold unaided.

Orion looked like another person, Jinn-Magic and teron a clear battle in his expression of ecstasy and disgust. Though, it was his rage that burnt in his eyes.

'Adem Highlander?' The king asked with a confused expression, still holding more Angel-Magic than Adem would be capable of, even if he was aided by his Battle Angel.

'Yes ... it's me,' Adem said. 'You should release ... some Angel-Magic.'

'Not until my wife is safe,' Orion replied. 'Where is she? I have searched for hours in this maze of dungeons.'

'I'm ... not sure,' Adem answered, 'but ... I will ... help you find her. But first, could you ... provide Healing-Magic for me please? My arm, it's broken, and ... my jaw.'

'Of course,' Orion said, then he clasped Adem by the shoulder, rivers of ice flooded his mind and soul, he trembled, then convulsed, then struggled to keep his arms at his sides as he felt the bones forming back together by the magic of teron. He gasped for breath, feeling young again.

'Thank you,' Adem said, as he reached for the sword hilt with his right hand, wielding levels of teron into the blade until it shone emerald blue. 'You lead the way,' he suggested, as he didn't want to be in the firing line between the enemy guards and the amount of Angel-Magic that Orion still held. Adem was desperate to find Jean, and his friends, the thought of losing any of them gripped him with fear. But he would not argue with that ferocity in the eyes of the Torvellen King. It was the look of a man in the grip of a mad rage, a burning desire to turn his enemies to vapour, which he continued to do every time they were confronted by guards within the dark tunnels.

Adem wasn't sure what Jean would say about one of the Immortal Kings breaking the laws of the new decree; he just knew he wouldn't be the one to tell of what he had seen occur on this day.

***

Jean listened to the sounds of battle. She sat on the hard bench within the darkness, her hands bound. Three Alit'aren guarded her cell, their faces hidden by shadows unless one of them stepped into the torchlight. The three men were nervous now, also listening to the screams of men dying from what she guessed were attacks unleashed by wielders.

She had sensed the incredible pain felt by the three Sons of Odin during their captivity however, especially Adem's torture. Her sense of his relief was the sure sign that he'd escaped, though she could also detect him moving towards her cell.

She knew Adem would not let her down, nor would Terese. She regretted not sharing the kigare with Terese also. Perhaps she could find a way to bind their senses with a spell, to link their minds for greater security during just such situations. Of course, the woman would then know immediately if Jean ever bedded Adem again.

If I ever get out of here alive.

Suddenly, she felt her Shield-Trap vanish! She reached for terael and Angel-Magic flooded her veins. The three men began to shout curses; obviously they had been overpowered and were now held by Shield-Spells. She created three new Shield-Traps. She sealed the spells; then she demanded, 'Release me!'

Two of the men were bound in walls of Air-Magic also, so they were unable to move, though she allowed the key holder to walk to the cell to open the door, after she gave the threat of, 'Unlock this door or I'll burn you alive!' It was just a threat of course; she didn't have it in her to resort to such violence against human beings, especially such innocent youths as these three were.

Her hands had been freed the moment she touched Angel-Magic. The young man fumbled for the keys and opened the lock with trembling hands.

'Don't hurt us, please,' he pleaded, after she was free of the cell. She immediately bound the third male with Air-Magic, so his hands were locked at his sides, then she took the keys from his fingers and moved to open the large iron door that enclosed her quarters.

The first face she saw in the hallway of shadows and fire was Terese, charging towards her shouting, 'Jean, thank heavens you're alright!' Jean stepped into the hallway to see King Tobin striding behind her with a host of Aldebrands and Alit'aren following, all garbed in the black wrappings and brightly coloured masks of the ghoda'sidhe.

She heard a shout behind her; and turned to see a guard charging towards her with his sword raised. A bolt of lightning flew past her head to strike the man, sending him flying in the opposite direction in a ball of blue fire. She turned back to see that it was Tobin who had cast the bolt. Blue fire still burnt in his palms.

'You mustn't wield Fire-Spells, even to save my life, King Tobin.' Jean said. 'I cannot protect you from the new laws. Even a king must suffer his fate if he disobeys the decree.'

'You would prevent me from wielding?' Tobin asked with a puzzled expression.

'That is in accordance with the law.' Jean replied. 'Please, you must not do more than wield Shield-Spells of Air-Magic. These men are witnesses to your crime, if I allow you pardon it will suggest the rules may be broken under special circumstances.'

'But that would be a death sentence,' Terese said. 'He was only trying to save your life, the life of the Daughter of Thor! Be reasonable, Jean. Tobin is a great king. He cannot suffer such a fate.' The woman's eyes were pleading; she would see the necessity of his act and hope that Jean could forgive him. But Jean had to uphold the law, it was her duty. She looked behind the men, down the hallway, to see the bodies of guards still writhing in agony. Flames licked along their flesh and bones.

'If this is your doing, Tobin Fire-Heart,' Jean said, 'you will face due punishment.'

'They have my wife!' the man shouted in outrage. 'I tried to conform to the laws, but there were too many of them. We were outnumbered. I must save Lydia.' His words were desperate at the last.

'We will find your wife, Tobin.' Jean said. 'Do not wield Fire-Magic again in my presence. I may be able to keep you alive if you follow my orders.'

***

Carl marched through the dark tunnels of the dungeons, four Alit'aren behind him as he moved with the temper of a lion on edge. They would form Shield-Spells to protect him if he was in any danger, though with the amount of teron he held, there was little chance of that.

He had ripped off his cell door with Air-Magic, as soon as the three Alit'aren who guarded his cell were held with Shield-Traps. Those three would be unable to move until he returned to release the spells.

He would not let his temper turn him into a murderer, when there was the option of preserving life. These traitors deserved a fair trial, perhaps then they would be prevented ever wielding teron again, a sure death sentence, though that was more humane than burning them alive.

The guards he had confronted during his search through the dungeons had been dealt with by similar means. He bound them in Shield-Spells, trapping them as surely as if they were frozen stiff. He was only strong enough with Air-Magic, due to his knowledge gained from the life of the High Druid—during his experience in the Chameleon Arch—and as a result of his link with the four Alit'aren who had rescued him, their strength in Angel-Magic passed onto him for the most part.

Behind the Alit'aren walked Hayley Martyr and Queen Lydia, both also rescued from their cells by the same four wielders. They would be more effective against these guards and traitor Alit'aren, due to their willingness to wield Fire-Magic to vanquish their enemies, though Carl would not allow such destruction of human life. He saw it as his duty to protect the souls of those two women also. They were unharmed, which was a great relief to him. He feared what Wil and Tobin might be capable of if their wives were badly injured. They often found congealed dark corpses licked with flames and the scent of burning flesh.

They approached a cell door. He sensed the three male wielders within that area. Teron flooded his veins and he wielded Shield-Traps to surround the three Alit'aren behind the door. He felt their hold on Angel-Magic vanish as he locked the Shield-Traps. There were no other male wielders in there, he could sense it. He broke the lock on the door with Earth-and-Fire-Magic, then pushed the door inwards to reveal the three men frozen with their arms at their sides. He could only make out one of their faces in the torchlight, though that young man looked terrified and the other two groaned with despair. 'I won't harm you,' Carl said. 'Who is your prisoner?'

'The Torvellen Queen is here,' the first young man replied, dark of hair and eyes. Carl wielded a ball of blue light that hovered in the air in front of the cage, revealing Queen Elmira, in her blue silk gown and white cloak. Her jewels had been taken from her evidently, as was the case with Hayley and Lydia. The mad fool El'Koto obviously followed some of the rules of revolution, taking from the rich with the premise of giving to the less fortunate. Though Carl suspected the man would use the wealth to build his armies in an effort to conquer the world.

Delusions of grandeur, he thought to himself.

He gestured to unlock the cage and make the door swing outwards.

***

Wil's eyes shot open, Angel-Magic flooding his veins. It was the familiar ice-cold trickling of terael flowing through him. He trembled from the force of the Healing-Magic, the most violent spasms he had ever experienced, which was no surprise, as his wound was deep. He gasped for air when the feeling left him, his focus returned, to allow him to make out the face of the woman in the shadows. It was Jean. He looked around his body to see a large pool of blood, so much he wondered how he had held on this long.

He realised when he woke that it was Jean's voice that he had heard. 'Thank you,' he said, after a few breaths. 'You saved me. How can I repay you?'

'By helping us get out of here,' that was Terese's voice; he made out her dark braid surrounded by a nimbus behind Jean.

'I must find Hayley first,' he said, as he tried to stand, and then he collapsed from the incredible pain that still filled his chest, like a hole of fire. Two Aldebrands moved to pick him up and put his arms over their shoulders, he recognised their eyes through the green and mauve masks they wore, Talegon and Kelflax. 'We cannot leave without Hayley!' he said, through short breaths. 'Will you find her, Jean?'

'You require an expert Healer-Magician.' Jean said. Wil had formed a Shield-Spell a half-second too late to stop a crossbow bolt from punching through his chest. 'I promise I will find your wife and bring her out of here alive and well.' Then she gave orders to Talegon and Kelflax to take him to the surface. He passed more Aldebrands and Alit'aren in black garb and coloured masks and gauntlets, as well as King Tobin in his dark blue silk robe and black cloak. His crown was missing, and his eyes appeared filled with the same despair that Wil felt in the search for his wife. Then he heard Jean shout down the hallway, 'Tobin, go with Wil and guard him.'

'I'm not leaving without Lydia!' Tobin bellowed.

'That's an order!' Jean snapped back at him. 'You mustn't wield any element other than Air-Magic. I will question Talegon and Kelflax to learn if you disobeyed me, now go!' To Wil's pure amazement, the Immortal King obeyed her. He raised the steel sword in his grasp to hold it vertical in front of his face as he gave a short bow, then turned and began to stride down the hallway, with two more Alit'aren following.

'This way, Wil Martyr,' Tobin said. 'I shall lead us to safety.'

***

Adem watched Orion turn a group of guards into pillars of flame with a gesture. The immortal must have taken down over fifty men in such a way since Adem had begun to follow him. The five guards were standing with swords and axes in their hands one minute, then they were screaming as red flames wreathed their forms, arms wide and bodies falling as the scent of burnt flesh swept down the hall. Their search had been pointless, however.

Everywhere they went they found either empty cells, or more guards needing punishment. Behind them marched more Alit'aren and Aldebrands, who protected the rear with Shield-Magic, and more than once they had been forced to protect Adem and Orion from guards wielding crossbows. If Adem had his way, the Alit'aren would be allowed to use any means of force necessary to ensure the safety of the Sons of Odin and the Daughter of Thor.

They turned a corner to see four guards with crossbows aimed. The bolts flew towards Adem and Orion as they both wielded Air-Shields, like a transparent wall of stone. The four bolts struck the invisible Shield-Spell, two of them punching through the wall, but the shafts were frozen halfway. In the same moment Orion gestured towards the men, his right hand squeezing into a fist. The four guards exploded into fountains of blood, body parts flying in all directions.

Adem was sickened by what he saw, though he also saw the way those Angel-Magics were formed, and he stored that information away like precious gems. The man's rage was at boiling point, the poor guards becoming helpless victims whenever they stood in his path. Adem wondered if he could become so heartless and cruel at times when Jean's life was in danger. He was worried for her now, though his sense of her through the kigare was that she was free. He knew when he sensed her start to wield, the flood of emotions a sure giveaway of her holding Angel-Magic.

Shouts were heard up ahead, and then from behind, guards were charging in from both sides. Dozens of white robed soldiers began to file down the hallway; he looked behind to see just as many. Most were armed with swords, axes or spears, though others wielded crossbows.

Orion gestured; a bar of liquid blue light flew towards the men in front, the bar struck the first guard in the silvered breastplate; erupting out the back of the man in the pattern known as Fire Serpents. Lightning surged through the chests and out the backs of the columns of soldiers, the men screaming as they fell, scorched and twitching like sprayed insects. That occurred before Adem turned to face the guards behind them, the Alit'aren also facing them and wielding Shield-Spells.

Crossbow bolts flew to strike the wall of Air-Magic, two punching through halfway. Adem gestured to the guards, wielding two Jade Warriors that stood eight feet tall. The emerald samurai warriors charged down the hallway; slicing bodies into piles of flesh fit for a butcher shop. It only lasted a matter of seconds. There was no way he could have avoided killing those men, they were outnumbered and even linked he would not have been able to hold all of them with Air-Magic. He realised he could become just as deadly as Orion.

He turned back to see the carnage of Orion's Angel-Magic, piles of bodies with holes burnt through their chests. That had to be the last of their reserves. Their escape was almost assured. His sense of Jean then was that she was making her way to the surface. He hoped that meant she had found the others. He said to Orion, 'Follow me.'

Chapter 2

Into the Light

Adem reached the surface level of the dungeons, to find that Jean had played a major role in the rescue effort. Terese shadowed her, as usual, the dark-haired woman standing with her arms crossed under her breasts as she marched beside Jean step for step. Wil was badly wounded and lying on his back, waiting for the skills of an Ael Tarael with expertise in Healing-Magic. His eyes were closed and his breathing slow, as if he barely held onto life.

Occasionally his eyes would flicker open with a look of dread, until Hayley arrived to put his mind at ease. Aldebrands carried Wil to the higher levels of the keep, towards the place where their Battle Angels resided in their Resting Points. The enchanted weapons stood leaning against the sides of El'Koto's throne, including Hayley's golden bow. Obviously, the madman had planned on using the Battle Angels in his quest to conquer the Free Lands.

Their other weapons were found in large chests in rooms nearby. Adem was relieved when he closed his hand around the golden hilt of his enchanted blade; and felt his connection with Arawn increase dramatically. He had barely been able to detect the words Arawn sent through the kigare, during his time in prison. Now he heard the Battle Angel remark; I blame myself for not seeing the trap, Son of Odin. Forgive me.

Adem sent his reply. We were taken by surprise, no one is to blame. Regardless of this, Adem felt it had been his own fault. This would be a lesson to remember, they could not take chances by putting trust in strangers.

Jothar Kelderath and his small force of wielders had taken the city hostage, some time before Adem reached the surface. Wil received the Healing-Magic he required from an Ael Tarael in El'Koto's throne room. The woman had a determined expression, with the tanned skin of a Torvellen, though she was Nordic, as her golden hair suggested. Dorelda Motolari was her name; Kelderath had brought a handful of expert Healing-Magic Ael Tarael with the first wave of warriors. Lydia and Elmira had been reluctant to attempt to try to save Wil, once they had a good look at the wound. Dorelda sealed that wound however, making flesh and muscle reform. Wil was on his feet moments after, looking half dazed and complaining of hunger. Adem was also famished, though his focus was on securing Auglem Watch.

El'Koto was in chains and being watched by some of Kelderath's soldiers, as well as Aldebrands and Alit'aren. Two Ael Tarael also formed the guard, in case there was a need. The mad chief looked forlorn when the Sons of Odin and the Daughter of Thor stood before him, holding the weapons he had so deviously coveted. When Adem asked the man if he had anything to say in his defence, El'Koto replied, 'I only wished to keep the Saviours safe, before their time to face Jinn-Fendinn. So much depends on you four ... without you ... there is no hope ... there is nothing.' His face took on that look of madness as his gaze became inward.

Yet he had ordered our executions, Adem thought to himself. Truly a madman then!

'How did you recruit the Alit'aren?' Jean asked.

'They wished to serve a ruler who would allow them to wield teron whenever they wished.' El'Koto replied, a firmness returning to his voice, as if he were ruler once more. 'They came from Rutheldor; months before the new laws were passed, seeking refuge from the threat of revolution.'

'So, you used their strength to intimidate the rulers of Auglem Watch to hand the city over to you,' Jean said. 'A clever plan, the only flaw I can see is that these Alit'aren would surely become madmen.' El'Koto shrugged his shoulders at that, his expression suggesting a sickly feeling, most likely in his skull. The fact that so many Alit'aren could put their trust in this lunatic, showed just how dangerous the conflict between male wielders and the rest of the Free Lands was going to be. They longed for a strong leader, who could provide them with a goal, other than destroying the world. But what they also hoped for; was a leader who would provide them with immunity from the new decree. They were terrified of living in a world in which all of their abilities were taken away. They saw it as the beginning of the end.

And they could be right about that, Adem thought to himself, Arawn making no reply. Adem's sense of his Battle Angel was the usual brooding, descending into fire with a frozen heart. 'Take him to the dungeons,' Adem commanded. 'He will await his trial and meet his fate for his betrayal.'

For the next few hours, the first wave of soldiers and Ael Tarael secured the city, relieving the guards of their duty, and handing the protection of Auglem Watch over to Kelderath's forces. The crowns and jewellery that were stolen from his friends were returned, with apologies from the servants bearing them. Jean and Terese held the throne room, while Adem, Carl and Wil patrolled the city streets with Hayley, Orion and Tobin. Lydia and Elmira also remained with Jean, to see that order was restored within the keep. Adem guessed that Lady Elise Caravine would be appointed head ruler of Auglem Watch in good time.

Adem kept his hand hovering above his sword hilt as he strolled through the streets, Carl pacing beside him, using his red spear like a walking staff. Wil and Hayley marched behind, their eyes scanning in every direction like wolves on edge. Tobin and Orion marched proudly, striding with the grace and nobility that only two kings could manage. There were no casualties amongst Kelderath's forces, all wounds received Healing-Magic in time and then they saw to providing Healing-Spells for El'Koto's forces. They would not let good men die if they could be saved. These men were simply servants to a tyrant; they were not guilty of El'Koto's betrayal.

When they returned to the throne room, Jean and the other women had found a number of other relics, tucked away in chests that sparked his interest. One was a horn made of pure silver, with gold rings around the tip and base, and a golden ram scrawled across the middle. On closer inspection, Adem sensed the presence of a Battle Angel using the horn as a Resting Point. His sense of the spirit told him it was a male Battle Angel, confirmed by Arawn through the kigare. It was the spirit of Balor Evil-Eye.

When he summoned Balor, a ten feet tall figure of light and shadows appeared, a man with a flowing white beard and moustaches of fire, glowing blue armour and boots over dark-scaled coat and trousers. He wore a conical helmet of blue fire that surrounded the eyes—giving him the appearance of a great, one-eyed owl—one blue fire, the other dark as tar, with thick twisted bull horns that were brown and ribbed, rising out of the steel skull cap. Balor gripped a massive double-bladed blue axe in his huge palms, holding the weapon across his body as he bowed in salute to Adem. 'Balor the Invincible, Father of War, I give greeting. I am one of the Sons of Odin. Will you commit yourself to serve me, as my Battle Angel Aldebrand?' The titles he gave Balor were provided by Arawn.

Balor grumbled like a great bear for some time, stroking his beard before he replied; 'I will commit to serve, Son of Odin. Before now, there were none I deemed worthy of my strength. However, Arawn confirms to me that you are one of the Chosen. I accept.' Balor's voice was almost thunderous like the Hex-Warlords. He then returned to the silver horn in a cloud of colour and a white flare. Adem blinked, half dazed, and then tied the horn to his belt loop.

The next hour was spent looking over the piles of treasure, seeking out the artefacts that contained more Battle Angels. Jean found a small stone statue that looked to be made from ivory, a figurine of a swan with wings folded back as if floating on the water. The trinket fit neatly into her belt pouch and was the Resting Point of Anwen—or Branwen as she was known as the sister of Bran the Blessed—a seven feet tall figure of emerald and aqua fire in a shimmering gown and crimson armour. She wielded a staff like an untrimmed tree branch, with leaves of many colours at the tips; birds of fire nesting in the branches. Long golden locks and a peaceful face, her skin was pale cream and her figure was quite voluptuous. Jean said the correct words to request her service and the Great Angel accepted, transporting herself to the Resting Point of Jean's blue glowing sword. She kept the trinket however; perhaps she saw that it had a use as another potential Resting Point. Though, Jean didn't find another Battle Angel.

Carl found a small dagger that contained the spirit of Angus Mac, also known as Oengus Og. The Battle Angel was dressed in dark cloth with a green-and-red kilt, silver armour with snakes embossed across the chest, and he wielded a staff of emerald light. Carl explained that Angus was said to be highly skilled at Healing-Magic.

Wil found a ring of gold with a fat cut ruby that was the Resting Point for Bran the Blessed, sister of Anwen and brother of Angus. It didn't seem unusual that three family members could be found together in this horde of relics. Bran was eight feet tall, dark shoulder length hair with large blue eyes, skin of pale blue and mauve armour. He wielded a shield of golden light and a broadsword of emerald flames.

Adem also found Llew Llaw Gyffes. The Battle Angel stood over twelve feet tall, a figure of muscular blue arms and legs, golden scaled armour that glowed orange over his chest and torso, his hair flowing blue fire and his eyes were white light. He wore a golden crowned helmet that surrounded his eyes and jaw like a face guard, with long bison horns moving out horizontal on either side of the skull. Llew wielded a long sword of blue flames—over eight feet long—and carried a massive rectangular shield of red light. A cape of blue fire flowed around his form, that was embroidered with gold patterns of wolves. The gigantic figure towered above Adem as he spoke the words of request, 'Llew Llaw Gyffes, Brother of War, I request your service to me.' Llew responded with, 'The Sons of Odin are the key to victory over Jinn-Fendinn at the Ragnarök Battle. I will gladly serve you until that end.' Adem then presented his blue enchanted bow for the Battle Angel to use as a Resting Point. He had found Llew residing in a golden statue that looked similar to the fat bellied, smiling Buddhist monk teachers most commonly known as a Buddha statue. He wrapped the relic in dark cloth and had it sent to be stored with his belongings.

The next six days were spent inside the walls of Auglem Watch, while the forces that had already arrived made camp around the city. On the seventh day Jean declared Auglem Watch secure, and she began to unleash her wrath against the two Immortal Kings, for their actions during their escape. Her next move was going to shake the foundations of everything Kismeria held sacred.

Chapter 3

The Death of Two Kings

Jean called to order an official trial for Tobin Fire-Heart and Orion Demon-Slayer. Adem thought the move was desperate, in an attempt to uphold the new laws that outlawed male wielding, though he did not argue with her decision. The trial was held in one of the large pavilion sized tents, on the seventh night since the rescue. Tobin and Orion came to the meeting in their bright silk robes and dark velvet cloaks, lined with black-spotted fox-fur. They wore their jewelled crowns and their swords at their golden-medallion waist belts. They looked every bit the kings they were, esteemed and glorious. Lydia and Elmira were equally bright in silk gowns and woollen cloaks, their jewellery shimmering in the lantern light.

They brought twelve Ael Tarael to stand as witnesses to the trial, seven dark coated Alit'aren also stood along the walls of the tent, with hands clasped behind their backs. They all wore swords, their only weapons. The faces of those men were humbled when Jean began to tear into Tobin and Orion for their crimes. Jean had also brought another twelve Ael Tarael, who would hold judgement over the two Immortal Kings. The women filled most of the tent space in their bright silks and glimmering jewels. All stood with the expressions of those who wished to be anywhere other than here. The twelve Jean had chosen were all mortal Ael Tarael, Lydia and Elmira had brought twelve immortals.

'We stand here today to make judgement over Tobin Fire-Heart and Orion Demon-Slayer, for breaking the oath of the new decree, that restricts all male wielders from touching teron, except to wield Shields-Spells of Air-Magic.' That was how Jean began the trial, followed by bringing forth witnesses who saw Tobin and Orion wielding fire and lightning, to destroy mortal men inside the dungeons of Auglem Watch. When Jean called forth Adem, he cringed at the thought of betraying either Jean, or Tobin and Orion. Adem stepped forward to wait for questioning from Jean. Up till now all of her witnesses had been very forthcoming in their admitting to seeing the two kings wield Angel-Magic. Adem wished to do something before Jean made the mistake of her life and ordered that Tobin and Orion be blocked from ever wielding teron again. 'You were with Orion in the dungeons during the escape?' Jean began, to which Adem replied, 'I was.'

'And did you see Orion wield Fire-Magic and Earth-Magic to kill soldiers loyal to El'Koto?'

'I did,' Adem admitted, feeling a sinking feeling in his heart after deciding he could not betray Jean, especially when she needed his support in such an important decision. 'But he acted with nobility, saving the lives of those loyal to us, including providing Healing-Magic to me when I was seriously injured. I think these men deserve partial forgiveness for their crimes, and a lighter sentence.' Jean stared into his eyes like boring holes through his skull with invisible flames as she admitted, 'I also witnessed such Angel-Magics being wielded by Tobin, once it was even to save my life. I understand that to order these men be prevented from wielding teron, is an almost certain death sentence, and the great King of the Nordics, and the mighty King of the Torvellen, will fade from memory in the minds of the mortals, becoming a myth of ancient days.

'Kismeria will be lost without strong leadership, but the new laws must be upheld, or we will invite anarchy when we attempt to judge others more harshly. Do either of you have anything to say before judgement?' Tobin and Orion looked to one another, with nervous expressions, and then Tobin said, 'I only wished to save the lives of my wife, and the Sons of Odin and the Daughter of Thor.'

'Do you have anything to add, Orion?' Jean asked, with a raised brow.

'We were ambushed,' Orion said, 'all of our lives were at stake, the fate of Kismeria! We cannot be judged. We are the Immortal Kings of Tarvel and Nordhel! Angel-Magic has been a part of our world since the First Age. We live to serve the All-Father and now to serve you, Daughter of Thor, and you would hold judgement over us for this service? They took my wife! They could have killed her! If Elmira had died, I would have gone to join the rebel Alit'aren. I would have left the Sons of Odin and the Daughter of Thor to fight their own battles! I would have led an army of men who were still free to wield Angel-Magic!

'I would have faced Fendinn at the Ragnarök Battle, using the gifts that were granted to our world! We are lost and without hope if the Alit'aren are restricted in their wielding! The decree must be revoked!' He delivered the speech like a king, but also like a man enraged, a man on the brink of sanity. Both of Jean's and also Terese's eyebrows rose considerably during that speech, though Jean did not back down one bit as she said, 'I move to pass judgement that the two Immortal Kings should lose their crowns and their land, their kingdoms and their kingship. To become Aldebrands to serve as protectors to Lydia Ever-Light and Elmira Golden-Braid, who will also lose their titles as a lesson for them that they should keep a tighter rein on their husbands.' That pronouncement brought shocked murmurs from almost everyone in the tent, Tobin and Orion staring with outraged faces, Lydia and Elmira looking as if they were about to faint in sheer disbelief. 'Who will stand with me, to enforce this judgement?' Jean asked; her eyes still boring holes through Adem's skull. There was a long silence, everyone's eyes fixed on him or Jean. He realised if he didn't speak up now, he might lose her forever, so he said, 'I will enforce this judgement, as one of the Chosen. I offer my full support first and foremost, in the hope that it will sway others to agree with your decision, Daughter of Thor.' That brought a slight smirk to her lips, and her eyes took on a wicked new burning. He told himself he'd made the right decision there.

Tobin and Orion groaned, both knowing his move would hold influence over the others. Carl was next to offer support, followed by Hayley and Wil. That was the beginning of the cascade of votes, as hands began to rise and the twelve mortal Ael Tarael began to speak saying, 'I will pass judgement!' Adem looked to the faces of the Immortal Kings and Queens after all twelve women had agreed, when Jean said, 'If the twelve immortal witnesses will also agree, it will save these men from certain death, for if this cannot be agreed upon, they shall be blocked from Angel-Magic.' That brought the twelve Immortal Ael Tarael around to a forced full agreement to her decision. 'Then it is done.' Jean said. 'I strip you of your titles and your land. You are no longer king or queen of any land, and you have no homes and no fortune. Your coffers will be given to the armies of the Chosen. Your kingdom shall bar its doors to your arrival, and you shall never set foot in its halls ever again, unless under the supervision of the Sons of Odin or the Daughter of Thor.' That brought exasperated sighs from Lydia and Elmira, Tobin and Orion looked as if Jean had fired crossbow bolts through their hearts. But Jean wasn't finished yet.

'You will no longer lead armies and you will no longer give commands. You shall serve your Ael Tarael wives as Aldebrands, to protect their lives as they uphold justice. As Aldebrands you shall be allowed to touch teron, once a week, to practice forming Shield-Spells of Air-Magic. If I learn that either of you have touched teron to use any other spell, from now until the Ragnarök Battle, you shall be prevented from ever wielding again!' Her tone was cold as ice, though her eyes still burnt with fury. 'Strip these men and women of their crowns and their jewellery. They are no longer nobility; they are common folk. You shall not look upon them with awe any longer. You will watch them like hawks for any sign of conspiracy, and you shall only address them by their true titles, Tobin Fire-Heart, Lydia Ever-Light, Orion Demon-Slayer, and Elmira Golden-Braid.' Those last remarks brought glimmers of forgiveness in the eyes of the four she had passed judgement over. She had shown enough mercy to allow them to keep their names of legend. Most would have still regarded them as such, and most would have addressed them by such titles if Jean wasn't in earshot, though these new rules she pronounced would see that they avoided such honouring, if they knew Jean would find out about it. In a few minutes, Jean had destroyed two nations, broken two kingdoms and left them without rulers.

'This will fuel a war of succession.' Lydia said, with hardness to her tone. 'Kismeria will be bathed in bloodshed, the lands will become as they were during the Immortal Wars, when famine, disease, pestilence and war plagued this world. You will be responsible for this, Jean Fairsythe. It was your decision to make, and you Carl Wilder, for inventing the decree.' Those words sounded like a judgement of her own; though Jean simply replied, 'The new laws must be enforced, and an example had to be made.'

Adem glanced back at Carl and Wil over his shoulders; they both looked as perplexed as the former kings and queens. Hayley wore that sly look to her eyes, though she also appeared deep in thought, and equally concerned. The Ael Tarael then began to parade around the four who were judged, stripping them of their crowns and jewellery. Jean told them they may work or trade for new jewels, though they were never to wear a crown again. They were allowed to keep their clothing on for the sake of modesty, though Tobin and Orion were told that they would only wear Alit'aren black, or the ghoda'sidhe or torin'sidhe, from now onwards. 'You are Aldebrands to your Ael Tarael,' Jean told them. 'You shall no longer wear the finery of a nobleman; you will always wear the garb of warriors.' Tobin and Orion bowed their heads slightly as a sign of obedience. She had spared them some honour and hope of redemption.

***

Orion left the trial with Tobin at his side. Lydia and Elmira were close behind. Neither of their wives discussed the judgement further with the twelve Ael Tarael they had brought as witnesses. The decision was made, the word of the White Snow Fox was a law higher than any king or queen, and she was one of the Chosen, one of the Saviours of Kismeria. With Adem Highlander's support, his fate was sealed. He could not turn against them, nor would he ever leave their side, but right now he wanted to tear out Carl Wilder's hair for making that decree. His rage towards Jean Fairsythe was subdued by the honour she allowed them, to serve as Aldebrands to their wives, as well as affording them the life force of Angel-Magic, rather than the alternative that was certain death. He considered himself lucky to be a king, when facing the wrath of Jean Fairsythe.

No other male wielder would have such a buffer to escape being blocked from teron. He would never command an army ever again, never sit on his gilded throne in his Royal Throne Room at Tarvel, never order servants to do his bidding, or give commands in combat. He had lost everything that defined him in the wake of that wrath. Though, No!—He was still so much more than just a king. He was an Agnar. An expert battle tactician, a great hunter and tracker. A resourceful man. A man who loved his wife.

When they arrived at their tent, Lydia walked in behind Elmira, shouting at the top of her lungs, 'I will smother that little tart in her sleep! How dare she make judgement over the Immortal Kings and Queens! I will demand a retrial! I will gather armies to support you, until she is forced to give us back our titles and our kingdoms! The sheer nerve of that girl, to try to bully us because of one stupid rule being broken in a life or death situation! Aggghhh! I would have scratched out her eyeballs, if she was anyone other than the White bloody Snow Fox!' That put Tobin's eyebrows higher than usual, his wife had a temper, but Elmira put an invisible dagger through Orion's own heart when she said, 'Well my argument isn't with Jean Fairsythe. I see a husband here before me who has lost his kingdom, his loyal subjects, his gold and jewels. His horses, his farms and estates. His crown, and the horse he rode in on, just to burn up a few bloody victims of his wrath! You must've been out of your mind! Jean was forced to uphold the law!' Then Elmira looked to Lydia, touching her on the shoulder as she said, 'Jean spared their lives, Lydia. For allowing us to keep our husbands for eternity, you must forgive Jean. Lydia, you must forgive her now.'

Lydia gave out a deep sigh, her head drooping before she replied, 'Elmira is right, I do forgive Jean, she was only doing her duty. If the laws were not enforced for the Immortal Kings, how would it be fair to punish others for doing the same? The laws must be just, gentlemen. You both somehow seemed to forget that. I will discuss this with you further when we are alone husband, and you shall know my wrath at that time.' Her eyes were fixed on Tobin at the last, a burning fury in her gaze. Elmira also fumed as she stared at Orion and said, 'I am not finished with you either, Orion the Dethroned!'

Adem arrived later to report that Jean was allowing them to keep their large pavilion style tents. That also brought sighs of relief from both women, they had lost their luxury so suddenly, they must be grateful for anything they were given. They were shocked to their cores, but still grateful.

'I wondered if you gentlemen would like to discuss the rebel Alit'aren problem,' Adem suggested, as he stepped further into the tent. Elmira and Lydia were seated on cushioned chairs. Adem was standing in front of the large map covered desk where Tobin and Orion were standing, in an attempt to put a barrier between themselves and their wives.

Adem's willingness to discuss the rebel problem was a new development; prior to their imprisonment he had been considerably reclusive whenever Orion brought up the issue. Orion knew it was a tactic, he was certain Adem was planning something with the rebels. He had already learnt that Torin Modrellock was sending messages to Adem. Orion was anxious to discover the nature of those messages.

'Anything we say on the subject of the rebels will be stricken from the record if Jean Fairsythe learns of it,' Tobin said. 'We are no longer the leaders of Tarvel and Nordhel. We have no armies to command, no resources, and so we have nothing to offer.' Lydia began to glare at her husband during that statement, and then she said, 'You still have your wits, dear husband. You will discuss the rebel problem with Adem Highlander to keep your mind distracted over the coming weeks.' Elmira flashed a glare at Orion before she added, 'You shall also work with Adem Highlander, to dissolve the division between our armies. If the rebel Alit'aren cannot be commanded to heel, the future looks very bleak.' Adem waited patiently for them to finish before he said, 'Yes, you still have the knowledge of two great kings, you are experts of war and negotiation, and you still have great worth in my opinion.'

'Why did you side with Jean Fairsythe?' Orion asked Adem. Adem bowed his head slightly, looking at his boots, before he replied, 'I would have thought that answer would be obvious. Jean is my heart. I love her more than anything. I couldn't let her stand alone and pronounce judgement over you two. I had to show my full support in her decision.' Then he looked up to stare Orion in the eyes as he said, 'But I am truly sorry for your situation, and I will do what I can to restore you to your rightful places in this world.'

'Forget it,' Orion said. 'You did what you had to do. My place now is beside my wife as her Aldebrand. I cannot see any further into the future, other than my desire to do well in that role.' That brought him a smile from Elmira, a sweeter fire kindled in her big blue eyes.

'Yes,' Adem agreed, 'though if you could still serve one of the Chosen and influence his decisions, you would still have great sway over the future, wouldn't you?' Now Orion saw Adem's angle clearly. He wished to utilise Orion's and Tobin's skills, while keeping the source of his knowledge from Jean. It could work. There was still much to be done before the Ragnarök Battle. Nations needed to be united, war had to end, and the people had to turn their focus to defeating Jinn-Fendinn.

'What would you ask of us,' Orion asked, 'if we were to agree to these terms?'

'I ask for nothing in return,' Adem said. 'I still see the worth of your minds, and I foresee great things for the both of you, if you agree to become my advisors. Jean will learn of it soon enough, but I am a Son of Odin, I have the right to choose whoever I wish to advise me in my decisions. She may argue, and perhaps turn cold, but I agreed with her when it mattered, now it's my turn to make a few heads spin.'

'What do you have planned?' Orion asked; which brought a sly grin to Adem's face.

***

Jean stood in her tent, behind the large carved desk that was covered in large maps of the surrounding territories. Terese stood on the opposite side of the desk, her arms crossed under her breasts. Terese wore a deep green woollen coat, that was so long it served as a short skirt, with a brown leather belt around her waist, blue stockings and navy-blue boots. Jean wore a crimson silk coat with black buttons, a matching skirt embroidered with black foxes across the hem, golden silk stockings and red leather boots. They were the outfits they'd worn to the trial; Terese's simple and humble while Jean's outfit radiated the presence of one of the Chosen.

'I still think there had to be some other way to deal with them,' Terese said. 'To lose the Immortal Kings of Nordhel and Tarvel is a nightmare in the making. Lydia was right about a Succession War. Tobin's three sons will move to claim the throne at Nordhel, perhaps leaving the Green Border undefended when they begin to bicker amongst themselves. Torvis could fall into civil war as the Immortal Lords and Ladies gather armies to support their claim to the throne. I respect the decision you've made Jean, but I don't like it one bit.'

'I had to make an example of them,' Jean said. 'Word will spread like wildfire that even the Immortal Kings aren't safe from the new decree. Their punishment fit the crime in my opinion; their suffering will be the dues they will pay for their own decisions. I had to do it, Terese, I saw no other way.'

'Yes,' Terese agreed, 'but you should have discussed this move with me first, Jean. I am your advisor as well as your protector. I have great knowledge in negotiations like these. I think I could have found a better solution.'

'What's done is done.' Jean said. 'I have allowed Tobin's sons to keep their royal titles, and to make their claim to the throne, I could have stripped them of their lands and kingdoms also to drive my point home.'

'Well you made the right decision there,' Terese said. 'Tobin's sons are good men from what I hear, two are great warriors, courageous but proud. They will surely contest one another for the claim to the throne, and there may be others who would wish to usurp their claims to place themselves on the throne. I predict great wars. Jean, what have you done?'

'At least Adem supported me,' Jean said. 'If he hadn't, well ... he would've found no comfort in my presence. The fact that he did support me shows he has some sanity left. I expect you to show the same level of support in all of my decisions, Terese, whether I advise you about them first or not.' Terese gave out a deep sigh, her large dark eyes filled with challenge that dissipated to regret as she said, 'I tried to make you very strong, Jean Fairsythe. Perhaps I made you too strong. You were hard as nails in your judgement this evening, it was more than I could've ever expected of you.'

'Well,' Jean said, 'maybe now Lydia and Elmira will keep their husbands in line, and those that wish to break the new laws will remember the punishment of Orion and Tobin, former Kings of Nordhel and Tarvel.'

'I think you're right, Jean,' Terese agreed. 'To allow those two to get away with it would've been a terrible mistake. You made a fine example of them, and their wives. They will forgive you in time, I'm certain of that. You allowed them to keep their names of legend and afforded them great honour as Servants of the All-Father. They will appreciate that once they earn some status points through their good deeds.'

'Yes,' Jean said. 'Now, should we discuss the problem of the rebel Alit'aren?'

'What do you have in mind?' Terese asked; which brought a smile to Jean's lips.

***

'We seek them out,' Adem instructed, 'find where they're based and arrange peace talks with their leaders.'

'Rodriel Tarz holds sway over the rebels,' Orion said, 'and he visits the camp regularly. Why would it be necessary to seek them out?'

'Tarz holds influence,' Adem said, 'but he is not their leader.'

'How do you know this?' Tobin asked.

'I have spies within the rebel camp.' Adem admitted; he was aware that Orion and Tobin had already learnt of his correspondence with Torin.

'Who leads them?' Orion asked.

'Brolen Aeldur,' Adem replied.

'The Grey Bear,' Orion remarked. 'He will not be easily bargained with. I've known Brolen since he was a young Seidr'tera, he was always stubborn, even as a lad, now he is known as the Bear because that's exactly what he resembles when he's backed into a corner.'

'Scouts last reported that the rebels were headed west,' Tobin said.

'My intelligence suggests otherwise,' Adem replied. 'I have recently received word that they have used one of the Travelling Gates to make their way to the Green Border.' The letter was handed to him by the young Rohan two days ago, the boy travelling at great speeds on an altherin horse to deliver the message. 'I suggest we send scouts to the Green Border to confirm this information, and then we travel to the Border Kingdoms to meet with them and decide our fate.'

'Do you know which Border Kingdoms they will seek out for refuge?' Tobin asked.

'I sent a reply message confirming the events of the trial just before I arrived,' Adem said. 'The messenger knows where they're headed, and he will meet with them soon. My guess is that they will use the knowledge of a Succession War to influence your three sons, Tobin. To guide one of them towards the throne, in the hope of having the decree revoked.'

'That sounds the most likely,' Tobin agreed. 'What say you, Orion?'

'I agree,' Orion said. 'Your plan has merit, Adem Highlander. Will you order the scouts to be sent immediately?'

'Yes,' Adem said, 'to all of the Border Kingdoms, in case they choose another.'

'What of the spread of revolution we were supposed to stamp out?' Tobin asked.

'The changes to the decree will influence most Alit'aren to obey the new laws,' Adem replied. 'This should appease the farmer armies to some degree, and perhaps the spread of revolution will be slowed by this. I know we must unite the nations, but we cannot allow an army of rabid wolves wielding teron without restriction.'

Aldebrands were then called into the tent to deliver the message to the scouts. The two Immortal Aldebrands wore wooden bows at their backs, no longer wielding the enchanted style. Tobin and Orion had also given up their Lukrorian Bows, to be replaced with a blue and a green one of plain wood, both worked with gold and silver lines. The two weapons leaning against chairs on either side of the desk. Orion then changed behind the screen to don the dark coat and trousers of an Alit'aren. Tobin and Lydia left for a while, and when they returned Tobin was wearing the torin'sidhe camouflage coat and trousers of greens, browns and greys. They were no longer kings; they were ordinary men, even though their immortal blood still made them extraordinary.

'There is something else we must do when we reach the Borderlands,' Orion said to Adem. 'I had planned to delay this move, but if we are to face the rebels it will be necessary. There is an ancient power that resides on the Green Border, where we must seek out the Stairs of Odin. This staircase of enchanted stone is a moving platform, never residing in the same place for more than a few days. They say that to find the Stairs of Odin again, the Blue Water Dragon must search with a just cause. That staircase is a doorway to another dimension.'

'What lies within that dimension?' Adem asked.

'An ancient form of Angel-Magic,' Orion explained. 'It is known as the Heart of Odin.'

'What does it do?' Adem asked.

'It will show you your destiny, Adem Highlander.'

***

'We defeat them with force,' Jean said, 'and drive them into the sea if need be. The rebels are a problem we must face sooner or later. Adem will try to reason with them, but I will not stick my hand in the mouth of a pack of rabid wolves. We will hunt them down, find out their weaknesses, and then use that to force them into submission, or we will annihilate them.'

'Perhaps reasoning with them first would be a safer plan,' Terese suggested.

'I have already tried that,' Jean snapped, 'and Tarz was stubborn as a charging blind bull! We must make them realise that we will not accept their rebellion. They must be crushed by whatever means necessary to cut them out of the picture.'

'What if they can be brought to heel?' Terese asked, her face glowing in the lantern light, her eyes sparkling like dark gems.

'That would be a miracle!' Jean shouted in exasperation. 'I have looked for other options ever since the division began, but I am running out of feasible ideas. They must be stopped before they turn into evil madmen.'

Chapter 4

To Find the Source

Carl sat in his tent, a square lantern glowing on the desktop, over a large map of the three Immortal Borderland Kingdoms and its territories. He listened carefully as Adem sat across from him, explaining his plan to deal with the rebel Alit'aren, and his aim to go in search of this thing he called the Heart of Odin. Adem was sketchy about exactly what the Heart was, or what it did, which intrigued Carl in regard to whether or not Adem actually even knew what it was.

'Turin is Prince of Orodhel,' Carl said, as he gazed at that point on the map. 'Artur is Prince of Kareldon, and Lune is Prince of Korhad, the three immortal sons of Tobin Fire-Heart. They control the northern half of the Green Border, its armies and its people, and you think this will be the target of the rebels. To what aim?'

'I already explained that part,' Adem said in frustration, his symptoms beginning to emerge. 'The rebels will hope to raise a new king, who will outlaw the new decree, giving them the rights to wield any element they choose, whenever they wish to.'

'So, you suggest we get to those three princes first?' Carl asked.

'I suggest we head for the Borderlands, to seek out the Heart of Odin,' Adem said. 'While we are there it is most likely we will run into the rebel army, as they are already there, as I mentioned already.' Adem's brow was furrowed with tension.

'Did you take your Healing-Magic twice today?' Carl asked, to change the subject. He was still very concerned about Adem's illness and the way it seemed to increase every day.

'Only once this morning,' Adem admitted, raising his hands to rub the sides of his temples.

'Are you suffering from another headache?' Carl asked.

'They're getting worse,' Adem replied, with his eyes closed. 'Sometimes they last from wake till sleep. I feel like I'm alone in this war, Carl, like I'm the only one who gives a damn.'

'Jean certainly gave a damn when she cast down two Immortal Kings and Queens,' Carl said. 'I care too, Adem, but my concern for you is foremost when there are no signs of danger other than that concern.'

'I'm fine,' he said, still rubbing his temples. 'I'm just worried about Jean, about us, about everyone. I feel a mountain of responsibility weighed on my shoulders; everyone looks to me for leadership. I can't imagine myself living the same life I did back home, that person I once was is now only a faded and distant memory. But sometimes I wish to return to that simplicity, do you understand?'

'I know exactly what you mean,' Carl agreed. 'But we are here, we have our duty, and we must succeed.' That brought a smile to Adem's lips, he would've been proud to hear Carl speak in such a way. Up till now Carl had dodged that responsibility like a flying bullet; he felt it was time he owned up to it. 'In regard to our search for this Heart of Odin, I agree it is pivotal to our cause. We will leave a substantial force here and we will mobilise for the Green Border as soon as possible.'

'Thank you,' Adem said, still smiling. 'I'm glad you don't want to argue this time.'

'You said the Blue Water Dragon must search with a just cause?' Carl asked.

'Those were Orion's words,' Adem said, 'though I don't understand its meaning. Don't we already stand for the ultimate cause, the preservation of all life on Kismeria?'

'It could be cryptic,' Carl added, 'or meant to be interpreted literally. Perhaps it will unravel when we begin our search. To find the source of this power, you must find a truly just cause.'

***

Wil lay across from his wife, on their crimson silk sheets and pillowcases. A light mauve blanket was spread over the top, as the nights were getting warmer. Change in temperature didn't seem to bother Hayley much though; she already showed signs of the training to become a true Ael Tarael. Her passion in the bedroom hadn't altered much since her changes, though she was much stronger now, so much so that she had to be gentle to avoid hurting him. He closed his eyes and saw a great shield of golden fire, embossed with carvings of kings and queens, animals and beasts. It was the afterglow of making love to his wife that gave him such images, it was a feeling beyond imagining, the satisfaction of a heightened reality.

Hayley was snoring soundly, something she would do on occasion, though he found it endearing. She was still so cute, so youthful and innocent, so sweet it was almost sickly. But the new sly knowing in her eyes and smile always gave him grave concerns. What if Carl's spell over her began to weaken; and she began to crave human blood, or became monstrous in appearance? What if the darkness of her curse began to creep into her human soul? He had thought over those issues, many times, during the hours he lay awake listening to her slow breathing, while she slept. He tried to stay awake until daylight, to ensure no Nightwalkers entered her tent to attempt another assassination. Sometimes he drifted off at first light, other times the tiredness took him before then, but he always woke to see her sitting up in bed reading a book or swallowing a goblet full of blood for breakfast.

Wil reached down to grasp the hilt of his double-bladed axe, that glowed brighter gold when he held it up above his face. His awareness of his Battle Angels increased while holding the enchanted weapon, he sensed the familiar brooding in a vortex of fire that was most common for Dis Pater's moods. His sense of Bran was that he was bathed in a sea of flames, though that other Battle Angel had offered no communication through the kigare since joining with him.

Will she survive? He asked Dis Pater, followed by a long pause before his Battle Angel replied; I do not have the gift of foreseeing the future, Son of Odin. Though, her chances are improved. Wil felt like two people now, the old Wil Martyr of Earth, and the new Wil Martyr of Kismeria, with memories of the lives of countless immortals throughout the history of this strange new land.

The new Wil of Kismeria wasn't all of those men as his new self however; he was one man with all of those memories and abilities, collected into the one living shell. Sometimes he had dreams of those memories, and sometimes he even had flash memories of those lives while he was awake, and he felt he was that person at that time. But he was always himself too, now more than ever.

Shouts were heard outside the tent's entrance; his Aldebrands were alerted to danger. A horn sounded, so close it had to be one of those who guarded his tent. Lightning flared through the tent walls, thick bolts from both sides, turning night into day. Hayley was awake in a flash, sitting upright with a startled expression in her big dark eyes.

'What is going on, Wil?' she asked. 'Are we in danger?'

'Get dressed and armoured quickly,' he said, as he stood, while still clutching his golden axe. 'I'll assess the danger. We'll decide whether to stay here or start running.' He quickly threw on a dark navy woollen coat, and black trousers with knee high brown leather boots. He strapped his bow-case harness to his chest; and glanced at Hayley stepping out from behind the screen, wearing a dark emerald dress with divided woollen skirts, a golden belt of medallions and her ruby necklace.

Horns had continued to sound in the distance during that time, along with more shouts and bolts of blue lightning in the sky. His Aldebrand Robin entered the tent in the dark cloth and emerald mask and gauntlets of the ghoda'sidhe.

'Forgive my delay, Wil Martyr,' the Immortal Aldebrand said, 'we were ambushed by Nightwalkers. It looks like another attempt similar to the last at Charkel. There are vampires all over the sky this time, enough to create serious problems.' Wil glanced back over his shoulder to see Hayley in crimson armour; equipped with her bow and sword. He wanted to don some armour of his own, the kind that most blades couldn't cut through, but there was no time. The shouts of the other Aldebrands outside his tent told him the Nightwalkers hadn't finished trying to infiltrate and likely kill him, and his wife. He held out his hand which Hayley rushed to clasp, and then they followed Robin out of the tent and into the night.

***

Adem heard the shouts of Aldebrands outside, moments before he saw lightning flare in the sky, around his tent. He and Carl stood; gathering their weapons. Morek Cinderblast entered to report the Nightwalker attack. Morek wore the torin'sidhe, with his blue-and-gold worked wooden bow gripped in his right fist. The dark-haired Aldebrand wore a hardened expression; concern evident in his large dark Torvellen eyes.

'There is more this time than there was in the last attack,' the man reported, as if stating that he liked long walks. 'The Aldebrands have formed a perimeter around your tent. We await your leadership, Sons of Odin.' Adem had his horn attached to his waist belt; he quickly buckled on his bow and reached for his sword. He drew the blade that glowed pale blue. Carl reached for his crimson spear.

'We must get to Jean first,' Adem insisted.

'Lead the way,' Carl said, as they stepped out into a scene of chaos. Vampires filled the skies; there must have been thousands of them. The advantage of killing vampires was that they were the only humans to contain ki'mera orbs. Adem shouted, 'Arawn! Llew! Balor!' Carl shouted, 'Angus! Math Mathonwy!' Bright fires erupted around their forms, filling Adem's vision.

Llew Llaw Gyffes appeared, standing twelve-feet-tall, a shimmering blue apparition in armour of golden scales. Massive shield and sword of flames held aloft, hacking flying vampires into charred glowing chunks. Spirit Wolves burst from the form of the Battle Angel. Pony-sized beasts formed of blue fire charged, pushing vampires to the ground; tearing off limbs and biting through skulls. Blood sprayed with the sounds of crushing bone.

Balor appeared as a ten-foot-tall spectre with wings of blue flames, his armour and helmet a pale apparition. He flew through the sky in a white flare, his massive blue axe hacking through vampire skulls and torsos like a quicksilver stream, flaring with each strike as the axe blade sunk into enemy flesh and bone.

Arawn appeared at the same time and mimicked this action of Balor's. Arawn's wings were burning crimson, his red blade lanced through the sky in a blurring pattern, striking in bright arcs that caused Nightwalker bodies to explode; splattering the earth below. Math Mathonwy copied them also; blood red cape becoming burning wings as he sliced through the heavens with the Hellfire Spear.

Shadow Hounds and Fire Lions charged along the grasslands of the camp and surrounding hillsides, burning prints of crimson and gold left along their paths as the beasts devoured demon flesh with ravenous ferocity. Ki'mera orbs flowed towards Adem and Carl, until their vision was again awash with colour. The ki'mera increased Adem's strength and vitality, and when he sheathed his blade, he drew his bow and fired a stream of burning arrows. Carl's spear released bolts of red lightning; blasting small groups of vampires out of the sky and turning them to ash. Adem thought he might try to match him, so he began to summon blades of blue lightning.

Angus also hovered close to Carl, a looming spectre of light and shadows. Carl used the Battle Angel to cast a spell, that expanded to surround Adem and the Aldebrands, rejuvenating their spirits with Angel-Magics similar to Healing. Adem felt a stronger charge of teron fill his veins, Jinn-Magic corroding that pure fruit like worms of acid. His lightning bolts spread in intricate patterns, tearing holes through dozens of vampires in a flicker of blue flames. Carl's hold on Angel-Magic also increased, as the red lightning turned twenty Nightwalkers to burnt char with a single bolt; spreading through the sky like a crimson claw.

Adem unleashed a few more arrows of blue flame from his bow—all hitting their targets due to his enhanced vision—when he sent to Arawn, Take me to Jean, now! There was no need to inform Carl of his destination. Carl could simply tell one of his Battle Angels to follow Arawn. The ten feet tall spectre of scaled black armour swooped down out of the sky; lifting Adem over twenty feet off the ground. When Arawn set him down on the soft green field close to Jean's tent, he looked back to see Carl being carried by Math Mathonwy, burning wings like some massive crimson eagle clutching him in its claws.

Llew appeared out of thin air, the twelve feet tall figure must have the ability to teleport. Adem wondered at the possibilities there. Llew swung his blade, hacking into any vampires within his reach, his Blue Wolves launching out of his form to tear down enemies, devouring flesh and bone in savage horrid gulps. Arawn and Math Mathonwy returned to the skies like lightning-comets, moving in all directions, hacking vampires in half with each point of impact. Balor could be seen amongst them too, his blue wings and axe visible in the dark night sky, despite his incredible speed.

Jean was standing outside her tent, dressed in the crimson coat and skirt she'd worn to the trial. Terese stood beside her with her silver blade shining. Jean held her emerald bow, firing arrows of green flame at the circling vampires above. Tanriel hovered some twenty feet above her, wings of blue flames with crimson armour and an emerald skirt. The Battle Angel unleashed crimson spears, that flew outwards from every point of her form like spokes flying off a wheel. The spears hit a target every time, punching through the chest or torso of the vampires, and releasing webs of blue lightning that struck others flying nearby. Tanriel appeared to be linked with Jean's new Battle Angel, Anwen, who stood beside Jean holding an emerald tree staff. Hawks of red, yellow and orange flames flew from the branches of the staff. hundreds of the Fire Hawks that soared into the darkness above to tear at the faces of the vampires with large hooked claws. Fire Hawks punched straight through the chests of the Nightwalkers in a flash of light, which destroyed the vampire, but the Hawk also vanished after the killing strike.

Eight Aldebrands also surrounded Jean; there were dozens more in a wider circle and around her tent. It seemed Terese had her well-guarded at all times since the first attempt on Jean's life.

Math Mathonwy's Shadow Hounds and Arawn's Fire Lions began to charge through the rows of tents, tearing down vampires, biting off their skulls or shredding through armour and flesh with massive claws. Ki'mera continued to fountain towards Adem, Carl and Jean, though Adem was worried his Battle Angels would tire too soon. He unleashed a blur of blue arrows at the flying targets, also sending lightning that tore through vampire hearts before those cursed men plummeted to the earth.

***

Orion gripped the hilt of his longsword Tigerclaw, the blade golden in the darkness as he stood protecting the back of his wife. Elmira was casting balls of blue flame from her hands while wielding lightning that struck five, six, seven vampires at a time, knocking them out of the sky. The blue bolts flew from her fingertips, while the balls of blue flame hovered outwards from the same source, flying into the night sky to seek out their targets. Lydia stood close by with Tobin guarding her back. Lydia cast similar spells of lightning though her Seeker Fires were in the form of palm sized fairies of blue light; something Ael Tarael called Pixie Wardens. The two women were gaining a considerable number of ki'mera orbs, which increased the scale of their attacks as time progressed.

Eleven other Aldebrands also stood close by, some firing arrows of steel from their wooden bows, others holding their blades that glowed crimson, or golden, aqua or emerald. The Elemental Power unleashed by their two wives was so intense the vampires took heed and started to clear out of the patch of dark sky overhead. They began to run onwards as a unit of four, Orion guarding Elmira, Tobin guarding Lydia, that was their duty now, it was all they had left to live for. Despite this fact, they were headed for Jean Fairsythe's tent. The women had forgiven her, Orion and Tobin had seen the wisdom in her decision. So, they decided they must still work to protect her, and Orion knew Adem Highlander would already be at Jean's side, which likely meant the other Saviours were there also. They still had an obligation to serve and protect the Chosen, whether it was requested or not. How they would manage to get around the conditions of Jean Fairsythe's new laws, that restricted the actions of Tobin and Orion—and their wives—was a problem he hadn't yet been able to solve—

A black-eyed vampire launched down out of the sky! Orion recoiled like a snake, his sword slicing through the air to cut a nasty wound across the chest and torso of the attacker. Blood spurted like a fountain as the body crashed into the earth. Orion spun in time to catch another attack from the corner of his eye, whipping the blade around to perform Heart Weaver—the sword skewering the attacker through the heart—then he drew the blade while the figure was still in midair, changing to Crimson Sun—a slice upwards through the vampire's torso and chest, to bring the blade back down to cleave through his skull—which left the figure broken and bleeding on the ground before him.

Two vampires lay slain at Tobin's feet also, Orion had caught glimpses of Tobin's blade slicing through the darkness while he dealt with his own attackers, the former king roaring like a bear as he cleaved through flesh and bone. They ran on into the night, their Aldebrands surrounding them and running also.

No other Aldebrands or soldiers joined them as they ran through the camp however, it was forbidden by Jean Fairsythe, they could no longer command soldiers, and none could follow them who weren't their appointed Aldebrands. The fact that Jean had allowed those Aldebrands to remain as their bodyguards showed she still considered their lives worth preserving.

***

Hayley stood in the palm of the hand of an eighteen feet tall Green Man, a particularly large one, created to carry her and her husband through the camp, as they made their way towards Jean's tent. Adem and Carl would surely be there, and although Wil had suggested that they let Bran and Dis Pater carry them there faster, she felt safer under Druantia's care. Her dark eyed Battle Angel flowed through the air beside her—shimmering emerald dress and hair of black flames—wielding a bow of green light that she used to unleash arrows of emerald fire, knocking vampires out of the sky. Hayley covered the low ground, firing golden arrows that set vampires aflame as they screamed and fell to their knees.

Dis Pater's three hundred crows—with wing tips of golden flame and burning red eyes—squawked as they circled the Green Man, forming a moving barrier against Nightwalker attacks. Bran marched in front of the Green Man, wielding his bright sword to hack down any vampires that stood in his path, and there were hundreds of them. Most servants who saw them approaching ran away in terror, though dozens of soldiers, Aldebrands and some Alit'aren wielding swords were beginning to follow behind the Green Man, cutting down any Nightwalkers that made it past Bran's sweeping blade.

The face of the Green Man was slightly evil looking. A new kind of darkness to its seed shaped eyes, and large wooden fangs jutting out of its mouth of leaves and vines. Druantia also appeared slightly infected; that same look of evil lying behind those dark eyes. Evidently the vampire curse did have an influence on her Battle Angel and her powers. Hayley truly hoped it didn't infect other female Battle Angels as a result—and therefore all female wielders—as she was fairly certain the effects could not be reversed.

***

Carl unleashed a bolt of lightning from his spear; fire moving through vampire flesh like giant red claws. Angus stood by his side, his giant emerald staff held aloft as he and Carl wielded the last rejuvenation spell, casting outwards as a bubble of blue light that surrounded Adem, Jean, Terese and the former Immortal Kings and Queens who had recently joined them.

The bubble wasn't large enough to spread to the Aldebrands who surrounded their inner circle, though their energy levels were replenished by the power source known as the gift that flowed through their veins. Some of those Aldebrands were firing steel arrows at the flying vampires, most hitting a target in the chest or between the eyes. Others wielded swords of fire, moving through the forms to hack down any Nightwalkers that tried to penetrate the inner circle.

Carl's other Battle Angel, Math Mathonwy, was also at a point where he would need to return to his Resting Point quite soon. The spirit warrior still flew through the dark night sky, moving in streaks of blurred light, his red spear carving through vampire flesh at each point of impact.

Adem stood close by Carl's side, still wielding lightning in the sky and firing arrows at their enemies. His three Battle Angels were all practicing the same technique, even twelve feet tall Llew Llaw Gyffes was soaring like a giant blue eagle, slicing through vampire bodies with lightning speed. The slightly smaller forms of Arawn's red wings and Balor's blue; could also be seen hacking and slashing. Balor's axe would cleave a vertical arc of blue flames, flaring like a small crescent moon, while Arawn's sword of red flames sliced in a horizontal blur. Lions, Fire Wolves and Shadow Hounds still surrounded their inner circle on the dark green fields, most standing guard as sentinels, now that most vampires on the ground had been dealt with.

There were still hundreds in the skies however, and small groups of them swooped down every few seconds, though Tanriel's red spears usually pierced their flesh before Carl or Adem managed to alter their Angel-Magics.

Carl then heard the familiar thud of one of the Green Men Druantia created, and he looked to the east to see a giant version of its kind, with a look of darkness to its eyes and long wooden fangs like a walking vampire tree! Wil and Hayley stood in either of the huge palms of the Green Man, Hayley unleashing golden arrows with Druantia by her side. Bran the Blessed marched in front of the Green Man, and dozens of soldiers, Aldebrands and Alit'aren followed behind the massive figures. Dis Pater's Flame Crows could also be seen circling the Green Man, seemingly as a protective barrier for Hayley and Wil. Then Dis Pater's golden wings, and giant axe, could be seen circling them from above, when Carl felt all ten Battle Angels form a Link!

The surge in teron that filled Carl's veins felt like a raging river cascading from a mountain cliff higher than the moon! Lightning and corruption flowed through him, electrifying his blood and corroding his flesh!

Lightning flared in the sky above, beneath a vortex cloud of grey that appeared out of the dark night sky. There were golden bolts, aqua, emerald, crimson and mauve lightning, thousands of bolts launched from the clouds to strike the remaining vampires in the sky. Sometimes five bolts formed a spear to punch through the chest of one Nightwalker, others became forks that reached out like giant claws to tear through the forms of dozens of the flying creatures. During those brief moments that night was turned into daylight, and the skies were a blossom of colour and fire, the male Battle Angels in the sky began to move at twice their normal speed, moving in streaks of white light that were faster than the lightning bolts. Cutting through vampire flesh with their weapons that flared like crescent moons.

Tanriel unleashed a blur of her red spears, each one hitting a target as red lightning flared outwards from the source, taking down more vampires in an instant. The sentinels that surrounded their inner circle, Lions, Wolves, Hounds and Crows, picked and clawed at the burnt corpses that fell out of the sky, until the Aldebrands began a victory roar; that was heard in the distance all around them. The battle was over. What concerned Carl was; how many servants and soldiers were now infected with the vampire curse throughout the camp?

***

Tobin lowered his blade, breathing a sigh of relief that the battle was won. Vampire corpses surrounded him and Lydia, and just as many were piled around the feet of Orion and Elmira. Some of those had been struck by the lightning in the sky, though most had made an attempt on his wife's life, which suggested the enemy did not yet know that Tobin and Orion had lost their crowns. Lydia looked half dazed from exertion, as did Elmira. Tobin's breathing was still laboured from his own work with the sword forms, and Orion was also breathing hard. They both sheathed their blades and moved to stand before Carl Wilder, who was shouting orders at the Aldebrands, soldiers and Alit'aren that had joined them towards the end of the battle.

'Find anyone who is bitten and line them up for release from their duties,' Carl was shouting. 'Have soldiers patrol the fields to put a sword or spear through any Nightwalker corpses that start to twitch. There is no need for Ael Tarael to burn the corpses, the dawn will see to that. Have the Ael Tarael expert in Healing-Magic seeing to any wounded, including the infected. I don't want to see any soldiers or servants with bite marks on their necks that don't look like they will survive the next three days.' The command in Carl Wilder's tone was remarkable, compared to the man he had been when Tobin first met him. The Chameleon Arch had changed them all, but their experiences since leaving Nordhel had shaped them even more.

Tobin still didn't agree with Carl that infected men and women should be spared, to have the chance to live on as vampires. He predicted those first thousand or so that they left near Nordhel had caused some serious damage, spreading the curse in that region. But that was someone else's concern now. He was no longer King of the Nordics.

'What would you have us do, Carl Wilder?' Lydia asked, looking exhausted.

'You four have done enough already, thank you.' Carl replied. 'You may return to your tents to get some rest. We are in command now. This is our mess to clean up.'

Chapter 5

Hayley's Curse

Hayley sat at the breakfast table, the light of the morning sun making her cringe slightly as it glowed through the tent walls. She was still adjusting to sunlight since her changes. Carl Wilder insisted she would get used to it in time, but currently it also made her dizzy and quite sick to her stomach. Despite this she sipped her goblet of breakfast blood slowly, peering over the rim of the cup to stare at Wil, who wore that familiar expression of deep concern. When the servant girl who brought Wil his porridge and fruit exited, Hayley asked him, 'Did you notice the changes in Druantia and her Green Man?'

'I did,' Wil replied, his eyes casting downwards, before he looked back into her eyes and said, 'but it was a necessary risk. Whatever the result, I will bear the burden. I won't let them blame you for something that was my idea. Perhaps the effects will be partially forgiven as they were instigated by one of the Chosen.' Hayley put down the bronzed cup before she replied, 'Druantia's curse was instigated by me, dear husband. The blame will fall to me, no matter what you try to say. It is my fault entirely. I should have been able to predict this, and it was my choice to accept Druantia as my Battle Angel. My greatest concern is whether this will infect other female Great Angels, which would result in some form of the curse infecting all female wielders.'

'That could be a serious problem,' Wil agreed. 'How can we test for this while remaining discreet?'

'The damage is done, husband,' Hayley said with a pout. 'We cannot reverse these effects, and if it is contagious, it will spread whether I give up Druantia as my Battle Angel or keep her as my protector. I imagine most Ael Tarael have already sensed a disturbance in the Angel-Magic. Terael feels different now, unclean, unbalanced, like a layer of shadows wrapped around a pure heart.'

'That sounds a lot like the Jinn-Magic on teron.' Wil said. 'Are you certain it isn't just something you can sense, in light of your ... changes?' Hayley was certain he was about to say 'in light of your curse' though he paused to consider his words more carefully. She tapped the side of the goblet with a long red fingernail before she replied, 'I'm certain, Wil. Terael is infected with some part of the vampire curse. What this means for the female Battle Angels and wielders of terael, I cannot say, but I am certain this will be a great bane to the Ael Tarael. I would guess Jinn-Fendinn is delighted.' Hayley sensed Wil's anxiety over her words, their shared emotions through the kigare. The perception was faint, as it had only begun after their Battle Angels first linked during the battle last night. But it was clear enough of a sense for her to know that Wil deeply regretted his decision to provide her with a Battle Angel. He would have sensed her guilt in return, the weight of the world upon her tiny shoulders.

'It's my fault,' he began, before she cut him off by saying, 'I will address this issue with Jean Fairsythe. I will take the blame. My name will inspire rage and hatred amongst the Ael Tarael when you leave Kismeria. I will walk this world alone, with none to serve or to protect me. None will offer me shelter, or a warm fire and a soft bed for the night. I will be a thing of nightmares to frighten children into obedience of their elders, the vampire woman who brought the curse to terael.'

'I won't allow it!' Wil shouted, slamming his fist down on the table, he meant he would make a decree to see that she was protected, but she spoke over him again, saying, 'There is nothing you can say or do to change my fate, Wil Martyr. When you leave this world, my place amongst the Armies of the All-Father will go with you. None will accept me after what I have done. The female half of Angel-Magic is tainted; something that was never a part of the Prophecies. The world is changed for the worst and it is my fault.' Her guilt was surging more and more with every word, though she felt some release from that guilt through her confessions. Her sense of Wil was that he was bathed in a cloud of flames, his heart still warm though it was wrapped in a sheet of ice. She sensed the same from his two male Battle Angels, residing in their Resting Points where they brooded, their descent into madness evident from the effects of Jinn-Magic on teron.

I really feel quite fine, Druantia sent to Hayley through the kigare. To which Hayley sent a reply. You are changed, Druantia of the Second Born, and your power flows into all female Great Angels. The evidence of evil is there in your eyes. I even sense it in your mind, now, as we share thoughts and emotions. There was no reply from her Battle Angel, though she sensed a similar brooding to that of Bran and Dis Pater. 'We must warn Jean Fairsythe,' she said as she stood; her goblet of blood not yet finished. She was tired from the battle and the little rest she obtained after it, though her guilt filled her with shame at the urge she felt to drain the remaining contents. She was no longer human; she was a cursed creature, a woman who had blundered in such a way that she may never earn redemption in the eyes of her friends and her people.

***

Jean sat in her tent, pondering the events that had taken place the night before and this morning. Seven Ael Tarael had visited her since dawn, in separate groups each time, three mortal and the rest immortal wielders. All had reported a disturbance in the Angel-Magic. Terael just didn't feel right anymore! Jean's own sense of Angel-Magic was that darkness lay across the bright essence of terael. It was almost identical to her sense of Jinn-Magic on teron, whenever her Battle Angels were linked with those of the Sons of Odin.

The women who reported the issue to her this morning had all mentioned their concern that Jinn-Fendinn had somehow brought the same taint to terael, something never mentioned in the Prophecies of Kismeria throughout the Ages. But what other explanation was there?

Jean knew the answer; of course, she'd sensed the source of the infection the moment Tanriel and Anwen formed a Link with Druantia.

Druantia was the source of the infection, and the dangerous eyes and wooden fangs of the giant Green Man that had carried Hayley and Wil in its palms, was certifiable evidence that Druantia's curse was resulting from her connection with a vampire!

'How was I so blind as to not see it?' Jean shouted as she thumped her desk with an open palm. 'Something so obvious, yet none of us stopped to consider the consequences. I had hoped Carl's spell had removed any chance of this happening, but I was wrong, so wrong. This is my fault; the blame falls upon me.'

'It is the fault of that fool of a man, Wil bloody Martyr!' Terese snapped, with her arms folded under her breasts. The woman wore a dark blue woollen coat with black buttons, that served as a short skirt, with a thick black belt, holding her sword at her waist. Her stockings were bright red silk and her boots were blue leather. Jean was dressed almost identically, with a red coat and boots and blue stockings. Both had their hair tied back in intricate thick braids, Jean's golden and Terese's dark as pitch. 'The question is whether this curse will have the same effect upon women, as Jinn-Magic on teron does to the minds of men?' Jean rolled her eyes and groaned at the plausibility of the question.

'If that is the case,' Jean said, 'we are doomed! How will the men react when they learn of this? What if they make a new decree against female wielding? What if such a move proves necessary? Without Angel-Magic, what hope is there?' Just then Hayley marched into the tent with Wil close behind as Hayley said, 'We will have to study the curse, see what we can learn of its effects. If the danger is so apparent that restrictions on wielding must be observed, then we shall make a new decree. If there is no apparent danger, we go on as if nothing has ever happened.' Her dark hair hung loose around her striking pale face; large dark eyes filled with concern despite that constant look of slyness. She wore a dark red velvet coat and emerald stockings, in similar style to Jean and Terese, her boots bright red with high heels. She wore her golden bow across her shoulders and sword at her waist belt. Wil wore Alit'aren black with his golden axe in his belt loop.

'I had hoped to keep this issue a secret from the Sons of Odin,' Jean said to Hayley, through gritted teeth, as the young woman strode towards her desk. That brought that wolfish grin to Wil's face as he said, 'So, the tables have certainly turned. You fear a restriction on female wielding, yet you enforce your will against two Immortal Kings and reduce them and their wives to the same standard as street beggars. How harshly will you judge your precious Ael Tarael when they break the rules?'

'There is no evidence so far to suggest that this ... disturbance ... will have any similar effects to Jinn-Magic on teron,' Jean said, then she fixed Wil with a dangerous glare as she said, 'If anyone is to blame for this, I am looking right at him! It was your idea to provide your ... wife a Battle Angel after her unfortunate accident.' She had been about to say 'your cursed wife' but thought better of Hayley's feelings. The near slip was reflected through her sense of Hayley's emotions, via their newly formed connection through the kigare. That connection was stronger than her sense of any of the Sons of Odin, even Adem, and she assumed it was because they were both female. Hayley was slightly offended by Jean's fumbling for the right words, though her face showed no evidence.

'I was only trying to find suitable protection for my wife,' Wil growled, in that wolf-like tone of his.

'The result of which could be a curse upon terael as severe as Jinn-Magic upon teron!' Jean snapped. 'What will happen to Kismeria if all wielders start to go insane? The Ael Tarael were supposed to be the shepherds that saw to the flocks. Now it looks like it could turn into a war of madmen against madwomen! I will hold you responsible for this, Wil Martyr! Your wife will not suffer the consequences of your foolish actions!'

'I accept full responsibility,' Hayley said, with a straight posture, her large dark eyes filled with emotion that flowed to Jean's mind through the kigare. The poor girl was sad, feeling guilty, afraid and just all round emotional. Yet her young face could have been carved from stone the way she kept her feelings hidden. She was strong, and possibly very wise despite this error that Jean could also partially place blame upon both Hayley, and herself; for their brash decision to join Hayley with Druantia at Wil's request.

'Perhaps all three of us have some partial blame in this,' Jean admitted. 'If only we could have known this would happen. Surely another solution could've been found to the problem of keeping you protected, Hayley. But we cannot change the past. We may however wish, in the future, that we hadn't been so quick to make this decision which has led to catastrophic results. I should've been more careful.'

***

'It's not my imagination, Tobin,' Lydia snapped, 'something is wrong with the Angel-Magic!'

'I feel it too,' Elmira insisted; both were seated on the cushioned thrones inside Orion's tent, Tobin and Orion standing behind that desk they used like a shield against their wives' recent mood swings.

'It started last night,' Lydia said, 'during the battle. It's like a rancid darkness floating on the purity of terael. It is strong too; it makes me feel ill if I draw too much Angel-Magic.' Tobin looked to Orion; the stark concern in both men's eyes was apparent.

'It sounds exactly like Jinn-Magic on teron,' Tobin said. 'We must speak with the Sons of Odin about this, surely they know of it by now.'

'Know of what?' Adem asked, as he entered the tent with a casual swagger. Adem stood tall for a mortal, clear blue eyes and dark brown hair tied in a tail falling past his shoulders. His ginger moustache and goatee were almost identical to Orion and Tobin's. Lydia could see how Jean could fall for a man as handsome and powerful as Adem. He radiated presence.

'There is a...a problem with terael,' Lydia admitted.

'What kind of problem?' Adem asked.

'We are not certain of the source of the problem,' Lydia said, 'but it seems the female half of Angel-Magic is no longer clean.'

'You mean it is tainted?' Adem asked. 'Like teron?'

'That is what we can feel, Adem Highlander,' Lydia said. 'It began last night, during the battle, and it has grown worse since that time. There is a darkness lying over Angel-Magic now, an unclean force that corrupts the purity of terael.'

'That sounds like very bad news,' Adem said, with raised eyebrows. 'Does Jean know about this?'

'We were planning to discuss it with the Sons of Odin first,' Tobin said. 'Jean Fairsythe is no longer our first point of contact, not even for Lydia or Elmira. The divide between us and that woman is wide and deep, solely created by that woman and her actions.'

'But surely you do not still hold animosity towards her for what she did?' Adem asked.

'Of course not, Adem Highlander,' Lydia said, before her husband could blunder further. 'We have forgiven Jean Fairsythe wholeheartedly. She did what she deemed right in that situation. What's done is done. We are just ... reluctant to be in her presence of late. She has become a woman of stone and steel, so hard it is difficult to imagine her making laughter or tears. Perhaps it is her concern for you, Adem Highlander, that has changed her so much from the soft, kind, caring individual we first met all those months ago.'

'She has a lot on her mind, yes—' Adem began, before Lydia spoke over him, saying, 'You are also changing day by day, Adem Highlander. When you first arrived you were calmer, more secure, more trusting of others and more focused. We four have watched that calmness and trust wither and fade as you become more hostile, agitated and sometimes just plain unkind. You are one of the Chosen, Adem Highlander, and so the fate of our world rests in your hands. I just wonder; is there anything more that we four could do to ensure your continued peace of mind?' Adem had turned to face Lydia during her little speech, and she watched his eyes closely, as they took on that inward, but also far away gaze, a sure sign of his growing madness. Despite the chances that he was also conversing with his Battle Angels through the kigare.

'I also have a lot of pressures these days,' Adem said, after a long pause, 'and sometimes I don't feel like the person I used to be at all. I understand your concerns, and I take great consideration of your wise words. But there is nothing to worry over. I'm fine, just stressed and tired and sometimes doing more than I should. I continue to accept my daily Healing-Magic, and I practice my meditation and restrict my usage of Angel-Magic. Please forgive me if my agitation begins to show, at times, when I am pushed to my limits. I don't mean to seem rude or unkind to anyone, but you four I hold in the highest regard. I should try to never lose control in your presence.' Lydia thought to herself how much she agreed with Adem that he was a changed person entirely from the young man they first met. His speeches were grand and well thought out, evidence of a shrewd mind despite his growing illness. He held himself with the self-assured importance of an Immortal King and addressed others as if he held such a title, when the mood took him. Of course, the Sons of Odin were greater than any King of Kismeria; they were of more importance and a higher order of beings. So, it was only right that he seemed to be one who is of such significance.

'I wished to discuss our plans to journey to the Green Border,' Adem said, seemingly as an attempt to shift the focus of the conversation. 'We should divide the forces up into small groups, that are able to move with speed towards our destination. The first and second waves should be formed entirely of altherin horses. The rest of the army will move at a slower pace.'

'I suggest a different tactic,' Lydia interjected, although Adem was addressing Tobin and Orion. 'We should journey to Rutheldor first, to discuss the disturbance in the female half of Angel-Magic. If there is any way of studying this problem to find a cure, the Ael Tarael of Rutheldor are the most likely to discover it. Although they are mostly mortal Ael Tarael at Rutheldor, they have great knowledge of cures and they are thorough researchers of plagues and illnesses, far superior to the Ael Tarael of Nordhel and Tarvel in many ways.'

'I see your point,' Adem agreed. 'We must discuss this with Jean to make a decision we can all agree upon. My choice would be to remain by her side at all times, though I am not entirely opposed to the possibility of separating into two groups. One to go to Rutheldor with Jean, and the other to join me in our search for the Heart of Odin.'

***

Jean was too impatient to wait for Adem and the former Immortal Kings and Queens to make it to the meeting she'd called. It was held in one of the large pavilion tents. It was early afternoon and still with plenty of good summer light passing through the tent walls.

Twenty-three Ael Tarael filled most of the space, a mixture of mortal and immortal women, along with half a dozen Alit'aren wearing swords at their hips. The Ael Tarael stood like proud swans in their bright silks and embroidered woollen cloaks, each one radiating the presence of power, despite the looks in their eyes that suggested they feared they might have that power removed in short order.

'We must take the time to study these effects further before we make any rash decisions,' said Delaray Ontorbros, dark of hair and eyes with the face of a red cheeked porcelain doll.

'I agree,' Jean said, 'but we must take precautions against similar effects to Jinn-Magic on teron before things get out of hand. An Ael Tarael loosing Angel-Magic on innocent victims would be equally as damaging to our reputation as the recent events involving Alit'aren.'

'There is still no proof that the darkness over terael is in any way similar to Jinn-Magic on teron,' said Lira Tolnock, staring down Jean with her large dark Torvellen eyes. Lira was one of the most experienced with Healing-Magic amongst the Immortal Ael Tarael. She would be an asset in finding a way to prevent this darkness from infecting the minds of female wielders. 'There may even be advantages that can be derived from this unfortunate situation.'

'What kind of advantages?' Jean asked.

'I'll need more time to study the effects,' Lira said, 'but I think this uncleanness that now covers terael, may open up new possibilities for battling demons and other creatures of the Shadow.'

'How would this be achieved?' Jean asked.

'I think the darkness that infects terael,' Lira began, 'has similarities to what I have studied of Jinn-Magic on teron. Though there are differences. The important similarity is that they both seem to open up the possibility of communication with the minds of demons. I first noticed this while providing Healing-Magic to alleviate Adem Highlander of his daily symptoms.

'Through deeper study of other male wielders, I found that Jinn-Magic on teron was a kind of melding of the Odin's Magic, and the Magic of the Jinn-Lord. I then devised the theory, that if Jinn-Magic allows communication with the minds of demons, certain Jinn-Spells should make it possible to control the thoughts of those demons as a result of the combined powers of Jinn-Fendinn and the All-Father.'

'That would be an abomination!' Kelesia Dalmere shouted, just as Roriahna El'Jeren cried, 'Such practices would surely corrupt us further!' Murmurs began to spread amongst the others, growing louder until Jean had to enhance her voice with Angel-Magic to shout, 'Silence!' That brought the attention of all, as she continued, saying, 'We must consider that this corruption may cause problems for all female wielders, regardless of whether we investigate such advantages. I see potential for greatness in Lira Tolnock's theory, however. If we could learn to control the minds of demons, we could use them as our own soldiers to fight against the hordes of other beasts that confront us in battle.'

That brought more shocked gasps and whispers from the women as Jean said, 'I do not suggest we indulge in such practices regularly. I only insist that it may save lives if used effectively in situations where it is deemed necessary. An axe wielding Boli-Kuldr under mind control could do serious damage to a horde of Nymloc and Jacoulra.'

'My concern is that this practice will very likely infect the minds of the female wielders in the same way that Jinn-Magic on teron drives male wielders into madness,' Lira said.

'Then such practices must be outlawed,' Jean said. 'We cannot allow this infection to corrupt the minds and souls of Ael Tarael any more than it may do by its own natural course. We must make a new decree that outlaws any such practices: that shall be known as the Jinn Arts. We will study the effects of Druantia's curse over the coming weeks in an attempt to discover the true nature of it and its potential to do harm.' Just then Adem entered, with Carl at his side. Orion and Elmira following after, trailed by Tobin and Lydia.

The two former kings were in Alit'aren black, as were Adem and Carl. Lydia wore a blue silk dress, with a white woollen cloak, and Elmira wore a white silk dress, embroidered with white patterns of birds and fish, with an aqua woollen cloak embroidered with gold scrollwork. Jean had allowed them to keep all of the clothes they had stored in the chests in their tents, and she allowed them a weekly wage to buy more clothing, as well as other items of necessity.

Lydia and Elmira still looked at her as if she had betrayed the trust that they gave her, and in a way, she had. However, she saw more forgiveness in their eyes than the darkness that glowed in the eyes of Tobin and Orion, a sure sign of the necessity for her decision. Adem also had a darkness burning in his eyes more often than not these days. He had been nearly a full year without his medication, and these battles where he was forced to draw immense amounts of teron were surely making his illness spread. Adem wore his sword in the black scabbard scrawled with a golden dragon, and Carl held his glowing spear like a walking staff.

Lira and Jean then caught the new arrivals up to speed on what had been discussed previously, and then Adem introduced his desire to seek out this mysterious source of power known as the Heart of Odin.

'Adem Highlander has suggested breaking the armies into two halves,' Lydia explained. 'One half to follow Adem Highlander to seek out the Heart of Odin, and the other half to follow Jean Fairsythe to Rutheldor.' That started a fire of rage in Jean's heart, and she stared holes through Adem's skull as she said, 'Is that so?' Adem seemed to sense the danger of her temperament, and spoke up, saying, 'It was just a suggestion, Daughter of Thor. I am willing to discuss it further with our advisors. I was just trying to negotiate a way to increase our potential to reach our goals by spreading our resources.' Jean was aware that Adem's new advisors were Tobin, Orion, Lydia and Elmira, which belittled her, though she did not mention it here with so many witnesses. By appointing those four as his advisors, Adem had gone over her head entirely, though she knew he would make such a move when she took away their crowns. They were still a wealth of knowledge even after all they'd lost. They were more than worthy of such position.

'Yes, I agree completely,' Jean said. 'I think we should set out tomorrow morning, each of us leading the first waves of the two separate forces, separate from one another, without contact or ability to come to each other's rescue. I think you have made a fine decision, Adem Highlander.' She sensed that sinking feeling in Adem immediately, as a result of her words, but she assumed it was also from his sense of the white-hot fury inside her.

'Jean, it was just a suggestion,' Adem said, before she cut him off saying, 'The decision is made, we leave tomorrow at sunrise, and may the best man win!' She finished with her arms folded under her breasts, tapping her foot in that way that warned him to consider his next words very carefully. Finally, he bowed his head and said, 'If you command it, White Snow Fox, I will humbly obey.' This time Jean felt a sinking feeling in her heart, because that had not gone at all the way she had hoped.

Chapter 6

To Forge Leadership

Jean stood in her tent, fastening her bow strap over her crimson armour. Terese stared at her and said, 'It was your decision, Jean. Adem would gladly stay by your side, but you basically commanded him to go off in search of the Heart of Odin.' Jean sniffed and said, 'It is nothing to worry over. He made his choice, plain and simple. It is clear to me now that love comes second to power in the heart of Adem Highlander.'

'Well personally I'm thrilled with the situation,' Terese said with a sly grin. 'We can focus on your training, and you can start to command large forces without the guidance of the Sons of Odin. It will be your first chance to forge leadership.'

'I think you're just satisfied that Adem and I are now unable to meet in secret in the middle of the night,' Jean said.

'I admit I'm pleased about that too,' Terese said, 'but I am concerned for your fragile state of mind, Jean. I see this separation will be hard on you; and on Adem too. I just hope that it will be another character-building experience for you both.' Jean reached for the dark velvet cloak and fastened it around her neck with a silver fox-head pin. She wore a crimson silk coat and skirt, with red boots and blue silk stockings. Terese wore a long dark blue woollen coat and blue leather boots, with red silk stockings. A thick brown-leather waist-belt holding her sword in its ornate gold-and-silver scabbard.

'I have no problem with spending time apart from him,' Jean said. 'I just wonder at his sudden change of heart. Up till now he has run to my side at every sign of danger. Surely, he knows there may be more attacks during the time we are apart. Does he not care for me anymore?' She was sincere in that question, wearing a pout that made Terese's dark eyes sparkle with restrained rage as she said, 'That's exactly what I'm talking about! He toys with your emotions until you have the wits of a giggling girl. You should see yourself now, Jean Fairsythe, pouting like a child who has lost her dolly. I swear if he was any other than one of the Chosen, I would have strung him up by his neck months ago!'

'But you didn't answer my question,' Jean sighed. 'Do you think he still loves me?'

'Of course, I do, Jean,' Adem said, stepping into the tent in his usual black coat and trousers, with knee-high brown leather boots. She was surprised at his proximity, as she hadn't sensed him approaching. His mood was calm, his form surrounded by the bright glow of the morning sunlight. She was embarrassed that he'd heard part of her conversation with Terese. Though she wanted to hear the words again, so she asked, 'How much do you love me, Adem Highlander?'

'I love you like a fish needs water to breathe,' Adem replied, 'and like a bird needs wings to fly. I love you more than a plant needs light to grow, more than day and night, stars and moonlight. I love you more than anything, Jean Fairsythe.' He wore his most charming grin at the end of that little speech. It was something like what he'd said to her when he proposed. She smiled, and then threw her arms around him to plant a soft kiss on his lips. He wore that startled expression he often showed when she was impulsive.

'Then why must we be apart?' She asked with a pout, as his eyes started to bulge, and he pulled away from her to say, 'Jean, it was your idea. I know I thought of it first, but it was just a suggestion, to save some time and do some greater good. I can't bear the thought of being apart from you. It will be agony to think that you are so far away and that I can't come to your rescue. But let's change the plans. Let's all go to Rutheldor together. The rebel problem can wait as far as I'm concerned—' Terese cut him off mid speech to say, 'Not a chance, Adem Highlander. You have your duty and Jean has her own path to follow. We cannot allow the rebel Alit'aren problem to fester in the Borderlands. You must part ways for a short time. I will protect her; I give you my word.'

Adem looked to Terese as he said, 'I'll hold you personally responsible if anything happens to her.'

'Nothing will happen,' Terese said. 'Now go, Son of Odin. Go and search out your destiny.' Adem smiled at Jean and gave an adequate bow, then turned to walk out as he said, 'We will be together again soon, my love.' Jean snorted at his charming manner as she replied, 'So long as you don't lose your head over some pretty Borderland barmaid.' That put a nervous frown on his face, as he tilted his head again and said, 'Farewell.'

***

Adem returned to his tent to put on black armour, worked with golden serpentine dragons across the chest. Carl's was similar, only crimson with black dragons. Both wore Alit'aren black, with the Sons of Odin Rohjor pins on their high collars, the Wolf, Lion and Dragon. Adem fastened his bow across his back as Carl fastened his bow case straps across his chest. They didn't wear their Aldebrand cloaks today as the sun was bright and the air slightly humid, not ideal weather for riding in heavy armour. They ate a hot breakfast of fried eggs and bacon with baked bread and beans, washed down with goat's milk that made Adem grimace from the taste.

When their horses were saddled and Adem was putting a foot into the right stirrup, he saw Jean and Terese on their white horses; moving off through the crowds of soldiers that served as their personal guard. Dozens of Aldebrands also formed the inner circle of that guard, and Adem was surrounded by a similar scene. Wil and Hayley arrived shortly after, and it was no surprise to Adem that Wil wished to join his wife on the journey to Rutheldor. He understood Wil's need to be there to watch over Hayley at all times. He knew he would need Wil in the Borderlands in case there were more battles, and he also required the show of strength of all three Sons of Odin for diplomacy with the rebels and the Immortal Princes.

However, he gave in and said to Wil, 'Go with your wife, if it puts your mind at ease. We will wait for you on the Green Border, sending word of our location as we travel in search of the Heart of Odin.' Wil bowed from the saddle, wearing Alit'aren black under a dark blue shining breastplate.

'Thank you, Adem,' Wil said. 'Until we meet again, stay strong, vigilant and brave, but remember to be kind, compassionate and also be trustful of those who serve you, in service to the All-Father.'

'Until that time, Brother,' Adem replied, with a tilt of his head. Wil and Carl then exchanged brief words, before Wil and Hayley rode off after Jean and Terese.

Orion and Tobin arrived shortly after, on their dark war horses—something else Jean had allowed them to keep—both wearing Alit'aren black under black breastplates worked with golden dragons. Elmira and Lydia followed on their white mares, both in blue silk riding gowns, with white woollen cloaks embroidered with black foxes. The two former kings had started wearing the Wolf, Lion and Dragon pins on their collars also.

There were thousands of Alit'aren and Aldebrands wearing the bright masks and gauntlets of the ghoda'sidhe this morning, with fewer Torvellen wearing the camouflage styled torin'sidhe. The first waves of riders in both armies were all on altherin horses. They would allow the horses to rest enough to stay healthy, though they would also push them to try to reach their destinations without encountering any danger. Again, there was no ceremony or speeches before they departed, just a sounding of horns and shouts from commanders as the horses began to mobilise.

Kelderath led Adem's first wave of riders, and Maldros and Morthros led the forces that were destined for Rutheldor. Most of the Dremelden joined Jean's company, including Lord Farrigan and Lady Gwyndel, while the rest of the two forces were mostly made up of Ael Tarael, Alit'aren, Aldebrands and Nordic soldiers. There were about five thousand riders in each party; all carrying supplies as there were no servants amongst the first wave. Kelderath rode a few horse lines ahead of Adem and Carl, with Lydia and Elmira riding behind them, shadowed by their husbands.

The first hour was a slow trot across the green fields, to allow the horses to warm up. Jean's army was just visible in the distance when the horses started to pick up speed, then the landscape began to shift and change in a blur of motion, as the five thousand riders moved in unison, like a school of fish navigating on a sea of green. Korhad was their first destination, and they should reach the Borderland Kingdom in five days, if they made camp early each day, to allow the horses to gain sufficient rest. The horses would graze on the fields during those days. Altherin horses often spent months in the East Lands, feeding only on the tiny stubbles of fresh growth that sprouted through the dark earth.

They allowed the horses to have three half hour breaks during the eight hours of riding on the first day, moving at a trot for that time then returning to the incredible speeds of the immortal horses. They made camp in the late afternoon; small cook fires were started to roast the rabbits that were caught in the fading light. Otherwise they ate dried beef, flat bread and cheese from their ration packs. Adem and Carl and the former Immortal Kings and Queens were all afforded some slices of rabbit meat, that was sizzling hot and juicy.

After eating, Adem and Carl watched Tobin and Orion practice the forms in the firelight. After a time, Orion shouted to Adem, 'Join us, you must keep up your practice.' Adem stood and moved to stand in between the two Aldebrands, both with their swords glowing in the darkness. Adem drew his blade and it shone pale blue, then he moved through the series of forms that he had watched the men perform. Tobin and Orion copied him at the same time, the three of them moving with graceful precision.

Adem focused himself with the Tar'deith, or the True Flow, giving him a heightened sense of awareness, similar to when he wielded teron. He began with Silent Shepherd; the blade slicing through the air around both sides of his body, a warding series of moves that could also be deadly if the enemy was in range. Then he stepped forward, slicing the blade down from high above in what was called Silver Crane Swoops, then turning slightly and cutting down slightly, and horizontal, in an arc of the blade known as Sickle Moon, then bringing the blade up high again, then slicing downwards, in the form known as Crimson Sun.

'Good,' Orion said, 'the Tar'deith is strong in you. I can sense it in your presence.' Adem had never known that was possible before now, though he had resisted touching teron as he thought it would offend Orion and Tobin, as they were restricted to wielding only once a week.

'How can you sense it?' He asked Orion, to which the Immortal Aldebrand replied, 'The True Flow is a part of Angel-Magic. Any who can wield teron will learn to sense the Tar'deith flowing in those around them. In time you will learn to sense it in your opponents.'

After sword practice Adem sat by the fire next to Carl, and the two of them spoke in hushed tones about the possibility of using wormholes to warp reality and move across great distances in one step. Carl explained that he was getting more confident in his ability to judge where a wormhole would lead, if he expanded its size, though he said this was only theoretical in regard to a potential destination. They knew their words could be heard by the dozens of immortals who stood or sat nearby, though they kept their voices low to suggest they wanted privacy.

'It could work,' Carl said, 'or it might not. I don't want to take such risks while we have other pressing issues to take up our time. For now, our fastest mode of travel is the one we have chosen for this journey.' Adem pondered this before he replied, 'Yes, but consider the potential of being able to transport an entire army of fifty thousand or more people, from one side of Kismeria to the other, in the few hours it takes for them to pass through one of these wormholes. It would be a great advantage if you could figure out a way to do this, and to teach the spells to the Ael Tarael. Perhaps some Alit'aren may even be able to practice the spells for times when they are the only wielders available.'

'I see your point,' Carl said with a concerned frown, 'but I am not ready to try. There is a danger working with the energy of a wormhole too, Adem. I think they have the potential to be a powerful explosive if they are handled incorrectly.'

'How powerful do you think they could be?' Adem asked with interest.

'Not as dangerous as an atomic blast,' Carl said, 'but still capable of wiping out a sizable force with one explosion. My point is, that could be us, if we try and I fumble with the spells. Be patient, Adem. We will reach the rebels in time to stop them from making trouble with the Immortal Princes.'

***

Jean and her army made camp in the fading light, after crossing considerable distance. At this pace they should reach Rutheldor a day to two after Adem and his forces arrived at Korhad. They had moved due north the entire day, with the Mithrim Mountains bordering them to the west. They camped between the mountains and a large forested area known as Drelgora. Formally a Dremelden Kingdom, the forest once stretched much further in all directions. It was home to some of the ancient Great Trees. There was a concern about Nymloc and Jacoulra lurking in the forest, hiding themselves in the shadows to remain undetectable to Aldebrands. So, they sent Aldebrand scouts, with Ael Tarael and Alit'aren, to investigate, testing what they could sense within the depths of Drelgora.

If Lira Tolnock's theory about the Jinn Arts was accurate, it should be possible for Ael Tarael and Alit'aren to also become aware of the presence of demons. She would have to add this to the lists of new studies to be conducted. That was another responsibility she had taken on in recent weeks. Not only was she the enforcer of punishments against Alit'aren who disobeyed the new decree, she was expected to organise the Ael Tarael in their studies of potential new discoveries. She didn't mind the extra work involved, though it began to eat away at the spare hours of her day.

There were no tents brought on this journey, no luxuries to indulge herself with in the evening hours. Her sleeping blanket lay next to Terese's, with Lady Gwyndel and Lord Farrigan close by. Those sleeping quarters were close to a large fire, where fowl and rabbits were being roasted on spits. Around them would be a substantial watch of Aldebrands, as well as patrolling Alit'aren and Ael Tarael. Hayley and Wil also set up their blankets within that protective circle, and the rest of the camp surrounded them in a large ring of soldiers and horse lines. Still, it was a vulnerable army, compared to the forces they had left behind. There was great risk in this bold a move, but time was pressing them in two directions at once. The bulk of the remaining army would travel to Korhad, to reach the Green Border in two to three weeks. The summer heat had dried out the muddy hills and grasslands after the spring thaw, to the point where carts and wagons could travel much faster than the first few weeks they set out.

Jean would recruit a sizable force of Ael Tarael and Alit'aren from Rutheldor, mostly mortals most likely, as Rutheldor was the castle where mortal wielders ruled. It was built close to Nordhel, to support the Green Border, though it was situated a greater distance from the Borderlands. Mortal wielders were considered the more fragile race compared to immortals. After eating some roasted meats and flat breads, Jean and Hayley sat facing one another on their blankets in front of the fire. Wil and Terese stood close by, and Lauren Celman stood closer to instruct them in linking together with Angel-Magic, in the hope that Jean could study the infection.

'Form the link, Jean,' Lauren said, that expression of awe was somewhat subdued on her face this evening, when she gazed at Jean and Hayley. Jean opened herself to terael, and then allowed Hayley to touch Angel-Magic also; she sensed the woman held more than was necessary, though not so much that it would overwhelm Jean when she took hold of the link. Jean reached into that wellspring of Angel-Magic that Hayley held onto, the warmth and light of terael filling her to more than three times her normal capacity, even more than she could hold if she were using Tanriel to increase her strength. She wanted to laugh from the glow of ecstasy that was also enough to bring her to tears.

She restrained herself, focused on the Angel-Magic and the new taint, that flowed from Hayley into Druantia, and then into all female Great Angels and into terael itself. The feeling was very similar to what she had sensed of the Jinn-Magic concentration within teron. A sickly rancid darkness corrupting purity, it had a distinct detestable odour to it too, like mould and decay, it burnt her nostrils until they flared with disgust. It made her want to vomit, though the pure half kept her senses reeling in pleasure and harmony. She could level mountains holding this much Angel-Magic, though her only thoughts were on finding a cure to this abomination.

Tanriel slept within the confines of her Resting Point, like a child in the womb, dreaming of great battles and endless magic, though she too burnt with the Darkness that was infecting them all. If the curse began to drive all female Battle Angels into a state of madness, there was no hope for Kismeria. If it began to poison female wielders in the same way, they were surely doomed. As she felt around that dark plague, she began to sense that connection to evil Lira Tolnock had spoken about. It seemed that if she dipped her senses into the Darkness, she could see and feel evil itself, understand it, and control it. There was the evidence that it could be used to control the minds of demons, as all demons were under the control of Jinn-Fendinn. This curse seemed to be an actual part of Fendinn's soul.

Hayley sat calmly, her liquid dark eyes revealing that sly knowing that was so common in her since her changes. She was now only holding a small part of the link, and her expression showed indifference for both terael and the curse.

Jean on the other hand was breathing heavily, and close to breaking into a sweat. It made her nervous to hold so much Angel-Magic, though Lauren had instructed that it would increase her ability to sense the curse and how to treat it.

'What do you see, child?' Lauren asked; that look of awe returned to her crystal blue eyes.

'It originates with her,' Jean replied between short breaths, her disdain clearly marked in the way she said it. 'It cannot be stopped, and it will eventually infect all female Great Angels. It is a dark plague, possibly as dangerous as Jinn-Magic within teron, though I am not certain.'

'What is it made of, child?' Lauren asked.

'Pure evil,' Jean said, and then she began to gasp from the flood of Angel-Magic that filled her! Hayley was feeding her double the original levels, making her six times her normal strength! With that much Angel-Magic, she thought she could even defeat the three Sons of Odin, linked! She was bathed in light; pure and incandescent, the Darkness so putrid it made her feel that her insides were burning. She began to laugh, a giggling of pure delight, her head falling back as she gazed at the stars that seemed to shine like spotlights.

'Release the Angel-Magic!' Lauren ordered in urgent tones. 'You are holding too much, Jean Fairsythe! It is very dangerous for us all, but for you most especially!' Jean sighed deeply as she released the link and allowed the Angel-Magic to drain from her system. She lay back, gasping for breath, the stars had returned to their normal hue. Then she began to laugh again, a loud release of all her emotions, from happiness to deep sorrow, she finished in silent shakes of pain and suffering. 'Evidently it does have the potential to cause madness,' she said, when she was sitting upright again, her arms folded over her knees.

'Are you certain?' Lauren asked.

'No,' Jean replied, 'but I fear Lira Tolnock was correct about the risks of playing with the Jinn Arts. The curse on terael is a part of the Jinn-Lord. It is Demon Magic. We will outlaw any attempts to obtain advantages.'

***

Adem lay down, resting his head on the puffed-up blanket that was his substitute for a pillow. Carl lay next to him, breathing softly in the beginnings of sleep. Aldebrands and Alit'aren still patrolled the campsite, in their bright armour, or dark coats and trousers, many wearing the bright masks and gauntlets of the ghoda'sidhe. Ael Tarael in brightly coloured silk dresses, and cloaks of velvet or wool, also stepped lithely behind the Alit'aren, like foxes, walking in the footsteps of wolves, that might turn on them at any moment. The Alit'aren had also practiced with their swords, during the time Adem worked the forms with Tobin and Orion.

Now their swords were sheathed, and they talked in hushed tones to allow the Sons of Odin and the former kings and queens to rest for the night. Tobin and Lydia slept to the left side of Adem. Orion and Elmira slept to the right of Carl's blanket. They did not need to sleep every night; immortals could go for weeks without sufficient rest and still retain their senses, though Lydia and Elmira were enforcing new rules for their husbands after their fall from power. The former queens felt that their husbands required more rest to resist the effects of Jinn-Magic, and this was most likely the correct form of treatment, other than the daily Healing-Magic they received from their wives.

Adem closed his eyes, and practiced the spell of Nightshade, to cover his Hero Chains from the eyes of his enemies, who would hunt for him in his dreams. It was a practice taught to him by Torin Modrellock, his former trainer in Angel-Magic.

He let sleep drift over him, colours swirling in the darkness behind his eyelids, shapes changing and turning into a myriad of patterns and figurines. As a boy he had seen these visions as a kaleidoscope of colour and light, taking the form of rows of teddy bears, toy trains and cars, the delight of a child's mind. Tonight, he saw patterns of Alit'aren facing Ael Tarael in open warfare, blossoms of Angel-Magic filled the sky and the visions became images of carnage under the weight of such explosive energy. It was not a vision of the future, not a real vision anyway, just a compilation of the thoughts and information that had been embedded within his psyche since his arrival in Kismeria, a prophecy of doom ...

He was on a boat of shining light, in the shape of a Viking ship, with shields of many colours bolted to the sides that also glowed transparent. The boat moved across dark waters, where large shapes broke the surface to reveal giant fins of sea serpents; skeletons of men chained to the scaled flesh of giant fish, with heads like some kind of lizard beast.

Where am I? He wondered. What is this place?

A falcon swooped down from the dark sky above, where silver lined black clouds blossomed red from forked lightning. In the distance was land with dark shores, and a dark tower rose amongst fortified walls of black stone. A red light glowed in the top level of the tower, like a lighthouse, its beam sweeping over the water towards his boat. The falcon was white feathered, with blue wing tips and a red beak. Its eyes were large golden balls that glowed like lanterns. The bird spread its wings and made a loud cawing sound, similar to a raven, then the bird turned black as coal, shining in the light of the liquid full moon. It was a raven! He reached for his sword but found that it was not hanging from his belt.

It cawed again, a sound that made him flinch, though he stood with feet spread and arms crossed over his chest. 'I do not fear you,' he said. Suddenly dozens more of the black feathered birds swooped down out of the night sky, clustering together in a pile on the deck of the ship. A figure began to rise from those dark squawking mounds. The figure was a shadow cloaked man with a mask of a silver human skull, similar to Arawn, though he knew this was one of the Hex-Warlords! Golden flames burnt within the eye sockets of the mask. It drew a sword of blood red fire with a sound of sliding steel.

Adem cried, 'Arawn!' But nothing happened; his Battle Angel did not appear.

The deep booming chuckle of the Hex-Warlord echoed in his ears, then the figure spoke in a voice of thunder, saying, 'Your spirit pets will not serve you in this place, Son of Odin.' The tone of the High-Servant was surprisingly calm, and Adem then realised he didn't sense the overwhelming force of evil, that he had felt from another of the High-Servants. This one he guessed to be Tairark Vampire-King, as the human skulled mask had long silver fangs. The lips of a man spoke below those fangs, skin like ash that looked capable of crumbling at a touch.

'Why have you brought me here?' Adem asked.

'I did not bring you, Son of Odin. You visit this place by your own choosing.'

'Why would I do that? This place looks like it must be in the East Lands.'

'It is,' came the voice like thunder, 'and it is your true home, Son of Odin.'

'You're a liar!' Adem shouted. 'This place is evil! I vow to destroy it!'

'This place draws you to it,' said Tairark. 'This place is a part of you, a part of your flesh and bones, your very soul. You call it evil, but we amongst the High-Servants call it the blessings of the High-Jinn.' Adem scoffed at Tairark's naming Fendinn as the High Jinn!

'You speak of our curse,' Adem said. 'What of it?'

'It is your destiny to join us, Adem Highlander, you and your Brothers. The three Sons of Odin shall stand even higher than the High-Servants, when you join with the High-Jinn and his Jinn-Magic.'

'I will never join you!'

'You will join us in time, Son of Odin. Already the High-Jinn's gift flows in your veins, driving you to abandon your weak and pathetic armies, and to make the High-Servants your allies in battle. This shall come to pass, Adem Highlander, as it is a part of the Dark Prophecies, that the Sons of Odin shall destroy the people of Kismeria.' Tairark held the red glowing sword pointed down to the deck of the ship, it seemed the man had come to bargain with him.

'I will destroy every last one of you!' Adem shouted.

'You shall join us, and you shall slaughter millions in a mad wrath!' That deep booming laughter followed.

'I will find a way to defeat you first!' Adem shouted; his hands at his sides in clenched fists.

'Think on it, Son of Odin, in time you will know it is your true destiny.' The dark figure began to melt until it formed the same pile of squawking ravens that took flight. The echo of deep thunderous laughter still echoed in his ears.

He sat upright on his sleeping blanket, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. Carl lay sleeping at his side, as did the former kings and their wives. Was it just a nightmare? He wondered. No! It was real! Was he fated to turn mad and destroy this world? The Dark Prophecies ... could they be as truthful as the Prophecies of the All-Father?

'Riddles to solve,' he whispered, to himself.

Chapter 7

The Immortal Prince

Adem and his forces arrived at the walls of Korhad on the fourth day, after pushing the horses beyond their limits, and making camp in the fading light each day. The city of Korhad was equal in size to Nordhel, sixty feet high dark stone walls, with watchtowers rising over twice that height, positioned around the diamond shaped fortress, that was at the peak of a large hill, in the centre of the city. The roads were all paved stone, and the streets and laneways were mostly wide enough to lead a charge of cavalry through, six or eight abreast. The main road—called the Korhel Road—was three times as wide, allowing carts and wagons to move side by side towards the markets and shops, that were mostly rectangular dark stone, with narrow arrow slits, built as a place for defending the city.

Most buildings were three or four stories tall, some of blue stone or whitewashed brick, but usually dark stone, that Tobin explained came from a mine at the feet of the mountain ranges that formed the Green Border.

When they reached the fortress stable yards, their horses were taken by stablemen in dark livery slashed with red or blue across the chest, dark bearded immortal men mostly with that dangerous glow to their eyes. There were some mortals within the city, mostly servants, though some were soldiers led by noblemen from the southern Kingdoms of the Borderlands.

The hallways within Korhad were nothing compared to the splendour of Nordhel, dark stone walls washed with pale light from lanterns that glowed day and night, to try to push back any shadows, where a Shadowsouled may place a Jhin-Tap; allowing Souljhin to enter to assassinate Prince Lune. They met with the prince on one of the higher levels of the fortress, after passing through hallways, where the walls were lined with shiny armour, or weapons of every shape and size imaginable.

Lune Dawnrider was a slender immortal, with a youthful face that reminded Adem of Lydia more than Tobin. His eyes were crystal blue and his hair golden, tied in a tail with a leather cord. 'Mother, Father, I have heard the terrible news,' Lune began, when he saw Lydia and Tobin enter his chambers, 'and we will put this travesty to right again. I swear it! There are none who can take away what is given by right of birth or marriage, the Holy Blessings to rule the immortal races, and all the peoples of Kismeria.'

'Our time to rule has passed, my son,' Lydia said, as Lune took her outstretched hands and kissed her cheeks. 'The Daughter of Thor stands higher than any ruler in all the lands; and she has made this clear to us. Know well that we do not hold any animosity towards her for this decision. You must also show her respect when you meet her. It is your time to make a move towards kingship, my son, you and your brothers, and there will be others who will try to take that claim away from you.'

'If I am made king,' Lune said, 'the first thing I shall do, is to re-crown the King and Queen of the Nordics and the Torvellen.'

'Have you not heard my words, dear child?' Lydia asked. 'The word of the White Snow Fox cannot be challenged, for it would usurp the very power that she holds to protect us from Jinn-Fendinn. No, you will not attempt to reinstate our titles, my son. You will make your claim for the crown, as it is you amongst our three sons who I have always seen as the most levelheaded, and compassionate. You are more my son than you are your fathers, you should have the crown.'

'That will have to be decided over many months of discussion in the Chambers of Ruling,' Tobin said, 'and my other two sons are first and second in line for the throne ahead of Lune, who was our third born.'

'You speak wisely, Father,' Lune replied. 'But let us talk of such things after you are fed and rested. Consider the palace your home while you are here. I will not allow you to miss out on the luxuries you are accustomed to, while you stay under my roof. Welcome too, Adem Highlander and Carl Wilder. I know you both by name as your faces have been accurately described to me by many messengers. But where is the third Son of Odin, Wil Martyr?'

'They are delayed with other pressing matters,' Lydia said. 'Your hospitality is welcomed, my son. Remember that we are never allowed to command servants or soldiers as if they are our own. We are common men and women now, only given status by retaining our names of fame and our duties, as Ael Tarael and Aldebrand Alit'aren.'

'I understand, Mother. Now please, everyone; follow me.'

***

Jean's army arrived at Rutheldor two days earlier than they expected, as they had pushed the horses harder than originally planned. Rutheldor was a smaller city and castle compared with Nordhel, rectangular grey stone fortifications, with watch towers standing more than double the height of the walls. The castle itself was a network of rectangular slabs, layered in formations that looked to be built for size and strength, rather than beauty. It was nightfall when they arrived; lanterns glowed in stone posts on the paved streets and through the narrow windows, fit for archers forming a defence. The castle windows were similar on the lower floors, with some stained glass within casements on the higher levels. Ael Tarael and Alit'aren moved about on the busy streets, amongst the swarms of soldiers, servants, farmers and citizens who were in a state of revelry to celebrate the arrival of the Daughter of Thor. A rider had arrived at the city a day ahead of them, to announce that Jean and her entourage would soon be arriving.

The inns and taverns they passed were a sea of drunken men and women, dancing and singing to the many musicians that played in the ale houses or on the paved stone streets. They cheered and waved as Jean passed by on her white mare, Terese close beside her on a white horse that had replaced the grey one she had become accustomed to. Hayley and Wil were close behind, Wil on his brown colt, and Hayley riding a white mare with black spots on its hide.

Maldros and Morthros led the procession, with a heavy guard in front and at the rear, in case of any Shadowsouled lurking in the shadows. But Jean's thoughts were with her Battle Angel, Tanriel, who seemed to be sulking in the shadows of the curse on terael. This was the reason she had come here—the reason she no longer had Adem at her side as protector—she had come to find a cure.

A delegation of mortal Ael Tarael and Alit'aren greeted them at the steps of Castle Rutheldor, the women in bright silks and jewels and the men in their usual dark coats and trousers. The Ael Tarael assured Jean that the new decree had been upheld since it was introduced, and that seven Alit'aren had already been blocked from teron after sentence was passed.

Seven men who are sure to die, she thought to herself, with a stab of guilt. The decree was invented by Carl, but she was the enforcer, as it seemed no one else was capable or willing. 'Your decision was just and fitting,' Jean replied. 'All we can do now is pray for those who lose the gift of Angel-Magic.' Half a dozen Aldebrands had also been contained and blocked, after going mad and unleashing Angel-Magic against innocent victims. That was a small number, considering how fast Jinn-Magic could infect the minds of mortals. The banishment on wielding had come just in time, though it was still a melting pot waiting to boil over.

They met with Lord Londrak and Lady Elviara, who ruled Rutheldor, in a large rectangular room of grey stone walls, where large tapestries and paintings were hung of ancient battles and heroes of legend. A finely painted work that depicted the Heroes of Will included a likeness of Terese Sapphire-Sword, wielding her sword of white fire. Jean wondered if the artist had actually witnessed the unleashing of the Heroes from the Harp of Souls. Lady Elviara noticed Jean musing over the painting, then she gaped when she recognized Terese.

'I had heard that Lady Sapphire-Sword was a member of your personal guard,' Elviara said, 'though I had believed it to be only rumour. I see that I was mistaken.' Elviara was Ael Tarael, and her husband Londrak Baltoven was Alit'aren. They were not king and queen, as such a ruler had not existed in Rutheldor for over a thousand years, though they had unquestionable command over all mortal wielders.

Elviara had the pretty face of a twenty-one-year-old, with large blue eyes and golden locks. Though when her expressions changed, she had the look of one much older, suggesting she was perhaps over fifty. Londrak appeared much older and wizened, his dark eyes stirred with the memories of over a hundred years or more, though his smooth face looked no older than mid-forties. He had a close-cropped black beard and moustache, in Alit'aren black, while Elviara wore bright red silk, under a dark velvet cloak. Her jewels were all rubies, including a large one hanging from her neck that was similar to Hayley's. Jean assumed the woman changed her jewellery to match her outfits. She didn't appear self-indulged, just self-important. Londrak held a commanding presence, though he seemed to defer to his wife's better judgement in dealing with the White Snow Fox.

'We have come here to discuss the curse on terael,' Jean said. 'Rutheldor is well known for its great Healer-Magicians, and the study of cures. I wish to discover a cure for this curse, so I have brought the root of this infection, Hayley Martyr, wife to one of the Sons of Odin, and wielder of the Battle Angel, Druantia.' A great sigh swept through the ranks of Ael Tarael who stood listening around the room. There were over forty of the brightly clad women, and only a dozen Alit'aren standing like tense lions. 'Know that the blame also falls to me, the Daughter of Thor, for this curse that now infects the female half of Angel-Magic. It was due to a fault of better judgement, that I allowed Hayley to join with Druantia through the kigare.

'I will not allow anyone to judge this woman for what has befallen our source of might. Hayley Martyr is under my protection for as long as she lives. None shall cause her harm; none shall turn her away when she requires sustenance or lodging, in this land or any other. This decree shall stand until the Second Arrival, by order of the Daughter of Thor.' There was silence following that speech, and she looked around to see many faces pale with terror. They knew what Hayley was; rumour of a vampire that can walk in the daylight would have spread like wildfire, especially a vampire woman who is wed to Wil Martyr. She wondered if they went pale at the way she phrased the word sustenance, meaning fresh blood. Jean knew such a decree would be followed in places like Rutheldor, though in small towns and villages, Hayley may find herself being burnt at the stake.

***

Adem sat in a stall, within one of the darker taverns, in the Horse Quarter of Korhad. Prince Lune sat across the table from him, with Carl seated on the outside chair. Tobin and Orion stood at the bar, talking with the owner, a man they both knew well apparently. Dailen Aldronick was a former soldier in the armies of Korhad, now he was retired at age seven hundred and something, dark of hair with a grey tinged beard and moustache. The man was solid, with a deep chest beneath his spotless white apron and pale brown shirt. He still had the look of one used to commanding soldiers.

Lydia and Elmira sat at a table close to the bar. Their Aldebrand husbands often glanced in their direction, for any sign of a threat from would be assassins. The heads of the former Kings and Queens of the Immortals would still pay a lucrative price. The two women sipped spiced red wines, from goblets that looked reserved for special guests. Adem's mug of pale ale was glass, and larger than a pint. So, he sipped his also.

The main room was quite large, rectangular, with the bar on the east wall and round wooden tables spread to the west. Large fires burnt on the north and south ends, and it was a cool night for summer weather.

Adem and Carl wore their usual Alit'aren black, Adem with his sword, and Carl with his spear reduced to the smaller length, to fit in his belt loop. Neither had brought their Aldebrand cloaks or their Lukrorian Bows. Lune wore a dark blue silk vest, over a white shirt with gold buttons, dark trousers and knee-high black leather boots. His Aldebrand cloak was thrown across the spare side of his bench seat, with his sword Glimmerwarden resting on top in its dark blue scabbard, encrusted with emeralds and sapphires. 'We must move cautiously if you wish your plans to work,' Lune said. 'My brothers will contest any claim I make to the Nordic throne. They are both warriors of great fame across the Green Border. I myself am known more as a keen strategist, someone who can find ways out of situations where others may find a stalemate. If you learn to use this skill of mine, I think we can reach our goals.'

'A strategic mind is often more valuable than courage or strength,' Adem said, 'particularly amongst great leaders. I have not met either of your brothers yet, Prince Lune, though I am confident you are the one we need to make ruler of Nordhel, in the hope of bringing peace between the rebels and our armies.'

'I must admit I am nervous over the concept of being king,' Lune whispered. 'I am young for a leader amongst immortals, and I have always felt that my brothers were better at taking charge.' Adem noticed Kailus Broeduthar, and Jothar Kelderath, glancing protectively towards Lydia and Elmira also. Kelderath had two dozen of his soldiers spread throughout the room, in casual clothing, to blend in. Adem considered this tavern one of the shadier ones in the city. Its patrons were a mixture of nobility and merchants, with other men who looked more likely to slit your throat than rob you. Why the prince had chosen this tavern was beyond Adem, other than the fact that Tobin and Orion knew the owner. The thought took his eyes back to the three men standing at the bar, as Adem began to wonder whether the former kings were in fact secretly scheming with those they still held influence over.

Adem noticed one of those dark auras around three disreputable looking immortal men in the room. What happened next was a blur of motion—

Adem stood to push past Carl—nearly knocking his friend tumbling—drawing his sword as the three men drew long daggers. They leapt from their chairs, moving towards Lydia and Elmira. They were closer to the women than Adem was, though unleashing Arawn in this space could cause anarchy. So, he shouted, 'Assassins!' He pointed at the three, who were pushing past occupied chairs. They were thick muscled, in dark coats and trousers, though they were not Alit'aren.

Tobin and Orion spun to draw their blades, Orion's marked by glowing golden runes and Tobin's emerald. The two former kings moved with supernatural speed. One moment they were at the bar, then in a flicker of motion they flowed around Lydia and Elmira. Tobin's and Orion's blades hacked through the men amidst spurts of bright red blood. River Warden turning into Fire Hawk, becoming Halo Fist and finishing with Serpent Strike.

The three assassins collapsed in a massacred heap, their blood seeping out onto the tiled floor. Lydia and Elmira stepped onto their chairs to avoid it staining their best dresses. The third had fallen with three knife hilts sticking out of his back. Most likely courtesy of Kailus and Kelderath. Tobin and Orion had both driven their blades through the man's chest as their finishing move.

'Is there any more of you?' Orion shouted. The remaining patrons began to look sickly, particularly the more disreputable looking fellows.

'Were they Shadowsouled?' Lydia asked. 'Or is there a price on our heads?' Lune ran to his mother's side to say, 'Fear not, dear Mother. I will have every man in this room interrogated until we learn the truth.' That brought startled murmurs from many of the lowly looking men in the room, as well as some merchants and nobles.

Adem decided he would wait before mentioning that he had noticed that familiar dark aura around those men responsible for the attempt. 'Let us return to the palace,' Lune said. 'Jothar, I will leave the investigation up to you and your men.' Kelderath grinned with a slight tilt of his head. Adem suspected the great captain enjoyed a good torturing, to seek the truth.

***

Jean stood before the Lord and Lady of Rutheldor, in the Chamber of Commerce. An unusual choice for working with Angel-Magic. The room was fifty paces by sixty, high vaulted ceilings supported by blue marble columns and a red tiled floor. Books lined the walls of the room on tall oak shelves, along with paintings and tapestries of farmers in the fields, or fishing ships, or the Rutheldor Market. Produce was the main source of revenue for Rutheldor's coffers, and it was said that their wealth was equal to that of Nordhel. Their fishing ships numbered over four hundred vessels, that sailed the North and West Seas, selling mainly to the coastal cities, towns and villages. The farmland surrounding Rutheldor was rich and fertile, giving good crops and providing grazing land for all manner of livestock, including deer, that were farmed by fifteen estates close to the city.

Lady Elviara wore emerald green silk today, with a large emerald hanging from a golden necklace. And yes, the woman did change her jewels to match her dresses. Lord Londrak wore a dark green velvet coat, dark trousers and boots, and a golden belt, with his sword in a crimson scabbard. 'Tell us again how you think we may find a cure?' Elviara asked. Jean replied by saying, 'Like I said before, we need to discover a way to reverse the spread of the infection. That is why I came to Rutheldor. You are known as the experts in such studies.'

'Yes, but this is something entirely new to us,' Elviara said. 'It may take years, or even decades to understand the full nature of this curse. Who can say what result it will have on the Ael Tarael during those years?'

Wil stood beside his wife, in Alit'aren black. Hayley wore a crimson silk gown. Jean wished the woman would refrain from wearing the colour of blood. It made her uneasy, and she was Hayley's friend. Imagine how uncomfortable it made the others feel to be reminded the woman was a vampire. Finally, Wil stepped forward and suggested, 'What if we cut off the head of Tairark Vampire-King?' That brought shocked murmurs from the dozens of Ael Tarael standing around the room. It earned him a look of respect amongst the few Alit'aren who were also present.

'But that would be impossible!' Londrak said. 'Even the Sons of Odin would be no match for one of the Hex-Warlords. It would be a massacre of whatever forces we could muster.'

'What if I went alone, to face him in his lair?' Wil asked. Jean sensed the man's thirst for vengeance.

'We could not allow you to face a horde of vampires without our protection,' Elviara stated. 'You are vital to the hope of Kismeria, Wil Martyr. What you suggest is dangerous beyond belief, but I think it may work. If the head vampire could be killed, the source of the vampire curse would then be a broken link in the Hero Chain, releasing all those infected by the curse. This would possibly cleanse the infection on terael.'

'Such a thing has never been attempted,' Londrak said. 'The High-Servants are feared even by the Alit'aren. To speak their names is considered bad luck. But I will join you on this quest, if you are willing to make the attempt. The vampire lairs are found in the South Lands. The location where the head vampire rests is known to us, as we often send scouts to watch their movements in the south. That particular lair is said to hold over five thousand Nightwalkers, along with their leader. He alone will be more than you could face without the aid of your Brothers.'

'My fight with Tairark is a battle I must face alone,' Wil insisted. 'You will provide a scout to lead me to the location of this lair.'

'I will not let you face such a fate without me at your side, husband!' Hayley interjected. However, Wil stood firm, saying, 'Very well, I will allow a host of Alit'aren and Aldebrands to join me. Men who are good with a sword and show no fear of death.' Then he turned to Hayley and said, 'You must remain here, my heart. To allow the Ael Tarael to study your infection. They may be your only hope of finding a cure.' His calm tone suggested this was an issue on which he could not be pushed further. Hayley relented, saying, 'Very well, my love. I will await your return.'

'Londrak,' said Wil, 'you will gather your men and meet me at the stables in one hour. I plan to leave this very night. Bring only one hundred Alit'aren and fifty Aldebrands, only your best swordsmen, not necessarily those strong in teron. A larger force will draw too much attention when we cross the southern borders. Advise your wielders that they may use teron to form shields, but they may not use any other form of Angel-Magic. Not even to save the life of another.'

'Won't you take an Ael Tarael, to perform Healing-Magic?' Elviara asked.

'This is a suicide mission,' Wil stated. 'I will not allow women to join us. Any man who is badly wounded will be left to die.' That earned him cautious looks from the other Alit'aren in the room. Then Jean spoke up, saying, 'I will allow one Alit'aren to be appointed for Healing-Magic. If he dies, another may be chosen. This I will allow only this once, as you go on a mission that I fear none may survive.' Jean knew Wil wasn't confident with Healing-Magic; his nature was attuned to Destruction-Magic. With his new Battle Angel, he would have the skill necessary, but he would need to save their precious ki'mera orbs for facing Tairark Vampire-King.

'Very well,' Wil agreed. 'You may source Alit'aren who are strong at Healing-Magic; at least a dozen of them amongst the hundred.' Londrak nodded and began to shout orders to his men. The Alit'aren gathered in the room began to march for the doors.

'Adem will skin me alive when he learns of this,' Jean said to Terese, who stood beside her in a green coat and blue stockings.

'We had no part in this,' Terese said. 'If the fool wishes to throw his life away, let him do it! However, if he does die, there will be serious consequences.'

***

Adem sat on a cushioned chair, in a tower overlooking the city streets of Korhad. Carl sat beside him; both were dressed in their usual dark coats and trousers, with brown leather boots. The night was cooler now, though what still chilled Adem to the bone was the memory of those men lunging for Lydia and Elmira. Long daggers in their fists.

'Something is very wrong here,' Adem remarked, stretching his legs to warm himself in front of the open fire, the golden flames dancing on thick redwood logs. 'Those men, I saw the same dark aura around them before they made their assassination attempt. Jinn-Magic is even infecting some immortals at a rate that could spell disaster if we can't find a way to stop it.'

'I agree,' Carl said, his red spear fully extended to over six feet, and leaning in the crook of his arm. 'That is why I invented the new decree. If we don't restrict their wielding, the results will be catastrophic before long. Still, we must find a way to study Jinn-Magic, to discover a method of curing those who are too far gone. If not, we lose thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of men, who would otherwise be a vital key to our hopes of victory over Jinn-Fendinn.'

'Perhaps those men were Shadowsouled,' Adem suggested. 'My fear is that Jinn-Magic infects them, until their minds are somewhat possessed by evil. Arig once told me that there are many evil spirits that inhabit this world, unseen and unheard, though they seek to possess the minds of mad or evil men. Do you think that could be why I see those dark auras around assassins before they strike?'

'Perhaps,' Carl mused. 'Possession is not a foreign word to me Adem, but I'm a scientist also. I must look at both sides of the coin before I make up my mind.'

'Are you suggesting we study these men with dark auras, to discover whether or not they are actually possessed?'

'It is not a bad suggestion, but I fear we have more pressing duties to fulfil. We are in search of the Heart of Odin, and you must unite the rebels with our armies before war breaks out between them. If there are evil spirits possessing men, why do they make attempts on the lives of the former Immortal Kings and Queens? Why not strike at us first?'

'What if these spirits are planning such an attempt on our lives?' Adem asked. 'What if they make the attempt with Jean while we are apart?'

'Terese watches Jean in her sleep,' Carl said. 'No harm will come to her. You must focus on your own path, Adem. If we do not find the Heart of Odin in time to win the loyalty of the rebel Alit'aren, I fear a great war shall tear this world to shreds.'

'There is one other thing I forgot to mention,' Adem said.

'Tell me,' Carl said.

'On the first night we journeyed towards Korhad, I had a very strange dream.'

Chapter 8

To Hunt a Vampire King

Wil stood beside his horse, adjusting the reins and saddle. Hayley stood at his side, wearing one of her looks of deep concern. He wore the same dark coat and trousers, with black armour, worked with serpentine golden dragons. The moon was bright in a clear starlit sky above, though storm clouds gathered in the west, marked by flashes of white lightning.

The hundred Alit'aren and fifty Aldebrands surrounded them, including Lord Londrak, either in Alit'aren black or the ghoda'sidhe with bright masks and gauntlets. About half were amongst the immortals who had journeyed with Jean's forces to Rutheldor, chosen by Londrak, after Wil's recommendations.

He could not afford to take any more men than this. He planned to make the journey as fast as possible; pushing their altherin horses to their maximum limits.

They may be in there for days fighting against the thousands of Nightwalkers that slept in the crypts below. Wil had some memories of immortal men's lives, where they went on similar missions and never made it out alive. It was a suicidal mission, though he did not intend to die. 'I will return to you, my darling,' he said, as he brushed her cheek with his thumb, a tear falling from her right eye. She would cry more while she waited for his return, he was certain of that. He would remain focused on his task, his rage for vengeance fuelled by the terrible curse that had infected his beloved wife.

If he succeeded, her life would not extend beyond that of most mortals, perhaps longer if she was still able to wield a small amount of Angel-Magic, but not much longer. This was a mission to set things right, and to win back her soul. He kissed his wife's lips, gave a forced grin, and then climbed into the saddle and began to ride away. He heard his wife call out to him, 'I will pray for you, every day, until you return to me!' He raised his fist to wave without stopping to face her. The thunder of hooves pounded the pavement, as the Alit'aren and Aldebrands began to follow.

Londrak soon sided up next to Wil, saying, 'You are very brave, Son of Odin, but perhaps a bit foolish also. You cannot expect to survive this mission. All you will do is cut down an army of Nightwalkers. Tairark will be alerted by the sounds of battle and flee, or he will destroy us all.'

'You speak of the Hex-Warlords with some familiarity,' Wil said.

'Do you dare make an accusation?' Londrak asked in outrage, his voice still lowered.

'Forgive me,' Wil replied, 'I meant no offense.'

'I know enough about the High-Servants to understand what we are up against,' Londrak said. 'The fires unleashed from their blades could level a mountain, Jinn-Magic upon their blades deadlier than Souljhin swords. Your Battle Angels may be mighty, but they will have a hard time beating even one of the Hex-Warlords. I hope you have a better plan than this, Son of Odin.'

'My plan is to face Tairark in hand to hand combat, after I destroy his army of Nightwalkers. If he flees, it will have been a waste of time, but I think he will take the chance to try to eliminate one of the Sons of Odin. That would unbalance the Prophecy.'

'So why do it?' Londrak hissed. 'It is madness!'

'I do it for my wife,' Wil said. 'I seek vengeance for the injustice that was inflicted upon her. I could blame Fendinn; make him the target, but that is a fight for my Brothers. I choose to seek out the source of this vampire curse. To cut off his head. Perhaps then, my wife won't have to drink blood to survive.'

'I understand then,' Londrak said. 'Though, you must listen to my advice when we are inside. I will guide you to the coffin where Tairark sleeps. It was drawn for me on a map by an immortal hunter, an Archer. He sought to locate the sleeping quarters of this deadly soul. You will not find this place without my assistance. In return I ask that you follow my commands.'

Wil considered it curious that Londrak now claimed to have a map, and even stranger that he waited till now to tell him about it. Was he lying? Was it possible that he knew the location of the lair and Tairark's coffin, because he was in fact a Shadowsouled?

He began to wonder, as they moved from the stable yards, and onto the city streets. He questioned his Battle Angels about the suspect nature of the information, but neither were responsive, both dwelling in endless circles of fire. A dark brooding of tainted spirits.

'Why did you wait till now to tell me about this?' he asked.

'You didn't ask,' Londrak said.

'What was the name of this Archer?'

'Terren Dorilack,' Londrak said, 'of the Varin Forest clans. He came to me with the information and the map, three years ago. We have had the lair watched since then to ensure that Tairark continues to reside there. He sleeps every day, for up to eight hours. Terren was able to open the coffin, to confirm it was Tairark inside. His weapons were incapable of killing the High-Servant, so he fled and reported back to me.'

'Why did he bring this information to you?' Wil asked with interest. He still didn't know what to make of the story, though he continued to feign belief.

'He was an old friend,' Londrak replied. 'He trusted me. He feared for his life, for if he told a Shadowsouled of this news, he would surely be hunted down by the Hex-Warlords.'

Wil asked no more, and continued to ride through the streets of Rutheldor, where lanterns glowed on the paved stone streets. Crowds of revellers still poured onto the streets from the inns and taverns, soldiers, servants, merchants, lords and ladies. Some of the soldiers gave salute as they passed by, Wil ignored them, as he began to brood, much like his Battle Angels.

Jinn-Magic was infecting his mind also. He was becoming paranoid. Was that why he found it so hard to trust Londrak and his story?

They left the city and began to set a good pace, headed due south. It would take over two weeks to reach the Southland Ranges. In the dark it was difficult to make out some of the terrain, though the land was mostly flat fields with some rolling hills, and the altherin horses moved with graceful speed.

His plan was simple; he would infiltrate the lair and use the map to find Tairark's sleeping quarters. The others would be left to fend for themselves, against the thousands of vampires that would awaken and defend their territory.

He could stay to help them fight, but the noise would only alert Tairark. The High-Servant would likely escape before Wil got his chance for revenge. Most of his men would die in this quest, though he considered their sacrifice worthy to free Hayley from her curse.

He would avenge his wife, he would cure Jinn-Magic on terael, and these men would be honoured for their bravery. It was the best plan he could think of. He began to wish he had Carl and Adem at his side, to help him work out a better one.

Wil and his small army arrived at a small town on the borders of Rutheldor the next day. They had made good timing the first night and moved at a trot the next morning to allow the horses to rest. Londrak remained at Wil's side the entire time, though Wil was still unsure whether to trust the man.

The town was built over a series of large hills, with a low stone wall surrounding the outer buildings, that would serve as a defence against invaders. Mostly tile or slate roofed houses of whitewashed blue stone. The town folk—who were working the fields where sheep and goats were grazing—looked up to see their arrival. An elderly shepherd leaned towards two of the young lads, who raced off towards the town.

'There is a fine inn within the heart of Three Hills,' Londrak said. 'They make the finest apple cider you ever tasted, and their lamb stew is also worth trying.'

'I want to be much further south by nightfall,' Wil said. It was already past midday, hardly time for indulging in alcoholic ciders.

'The horses could use a good rest before we set out again,' Londrak insisted, he seemed nervous to Wil. Perhaps he was just made nervous by the presence of one of the Sons of Odin. After Jean took away Tobin's and Orion's crowns, every ruler must have felt that they were treading on eggshells to avoid upsetting one of the Chosen.

Wil reached for his axe, the weapon glowed bright golden in the daylight, and suddenly his awareness of Carl and Adem was increased tenfold.

They were moving at incredible speeds! Hurtling through space faster than a rocket, much faster than altherin horses were capable of! He questioned his Battle Angels on what they knew of this, and for once Dis Pater responded with: They are here, Son of Odin.

Wil tuned to see a bright flare of blue light, and then the shimmering illusion became Llew Llaw Gyffes! Adem's Battle Angel was a figure of blue fire, hair of long blue flames, golden scaled armour and a sword of light. Adem and Carl stood at the feet of the Battle Angel, along with Arig Flame-Bow, Tobin, Lydia, Orion and Elmira.

'How can this be?' Wil whispered to himself. The shepherds began to flee in terror of the gigantic figure, the young boys looking on with curiosity before their elders ordered them to run. Wil released his hold on the axe, spurring his horse towards Adem. Carl and Adem began to pace towards him, neither looking a bit pleased. When they were a few paces off, he stepped down from the saddle and strode towards them, his arms out wide for an embrace. Adem's fist across his face made his eyes become water. Black spots danced in his vision. He then realised he was flat on his back, looking up at his friends' dark expressions.

'What was that for?' Wil asked.

'You were supposed to watch over Jean!' Adem shouted.

'I thought that was your obligation,' Wil said, as he tried to sit upright.

'I left you in charge!' Adem roared. 'You left her alone!'

'No!' Wil shouted. 'You abandoned her, Adem! You left her to go off in search of this source of power, leaving her to seek out a cure. Well I know of a way, and neither of you is going to stop me.'

'Let me guess,' Carl said, 'you plan to take on Tairark Vampire-King, slay him and remove the vampire curse completely?'

'That sums it up,' Wil said.

'The vampire curse is sourced from Fendinn,' Adem said. Then he shouted, 'Even if you were able to defeat Tairark, there is no guarantee it will change anything!'

'It's worth a try!' Wil shouted back. 'After what they did to my wife, I will be satisfied just to end Tairark's life!'

There was a long pause, both men looking down at him with a new curiosity in their eyes, before Carl said, 'I'm in agreement, Adem. If we can take out Tairark, the Hex-Warlords are reduced in strength. They will be our biggest concern if they make it to the Ragnarök Battle. One less to worry about would be a blessing.'

'What is your plan?' Adem asked Wil, still burning with fury.

'We have a map!' Wil exclaimed, finally managing to get to his feet as he dusted off his coat. 'The map leads us directly to his tomb. We go in, kill a few vampires, slay Tairark and head home again.'

'A clever plan,' Carl said, with sarcasm. 'Where did you get the map?' Londrak then stepped forward; producing the leather scroll. The tunnels of the lair were marked in green ink. Tairark's coffin was marked with a red cross. Carl and Adem studied the map for some time, and then questioned Londrak about the source of the information. Both men looked upon Londrak with some scepticism, suggesting perhaps that Wil wasn't just being paranoid.

Or perhaps we're all losing the plot!

'We can discuss the details over lunch,' Londrak suggested, appearing even more nervous under the gaze of the three Sons of Odin. 'I was telling Lord Wil that there is a fine inn here. We will feast and rest, and then find suitable horses for the seven of you.'

The presence of Tobin and Orion also seemed to unsettle the man. Though Wil considered it possible that Londrak didn't like being reminded that these former kings and queens had lost their crowns and titles. Tobin and Orion did not approach Londrak, though they glared at him with distrust.

'Let's see about this inn,' Adem agreed. 'Perhaps then we will find more substantial answers.'

***

Adem sat at a round polished oak table, close to the roaring fireplace, in The Green Apple. The inn was spacious, with enough tables and chairs to fit over forty of the Alit'aren and Aldebrands. The rest were outside, watering the horses and keeping a lookout. The townsfolk did not seem frightened by the presence of so many warriors, as these lands were a part of Rutheldor. They all knew Londrak's face. However, the patrons within the common room quickly evacuated, without finishing their drinks, when Adem and his entourage arrived.

Londrak's men provided gold coin for meals and drinks, for those that were present; and more for those waiting outside. Adem didn't care how much they paid the innkeeper, a stout woman with a round face and two chins. Malmeri Longport was from the northern coasts originally, a hard-looking woman with fat golden rings in her ears, and a black tribal tattoo on her cheeks, that was common amongst the peoples of Roldoc. 'The Sons of Odin are always welcome here,' the dark-haired woman said, in gravelly tones. 'We have the finest cider in all the lands this side of the Kingarin Forest. You like it?' The woman's tone was enough to intimidate Adem into admitting, 'It's very fine cider, thank you, Madam Longport.' The woman sniffed and waddled back to the bar, her harsh tone sending the serving girls into a panic.

Tobin and Orion sat across from him, with Carl and Wil to the right of the table and Londrak to the left. Londrak looked ever more nervous as he went over the details about the discovery of Tairark's lair, though his skin was not marked with a drop of sweat yet. That would suggest he was hiding something, though Adem still suspected the man must be hiding some secret about this mysterious map.

'You're saying one man,' Adem began, 'one Elf Archer, crept through the dungeons of Morgrahl Kordahn, avoiding any confrontation with the thousands of vampires that lay within? He then found the resting place of Tairark Vampire-King, and managed to escape without detection? As well as finding the time to draw up this miraculous map?'

'I know it sounds hard to believe,' Londrak replied, 'but this man was an expert hunter and tracker. He is known for his skill.'

'Where is this Terren Dorilack now?' Carl asked.

'The last I heard from him; he'd returned to Varin Forest,' Londrak said. 'His people were his best chance of protection, if it was ever learnt that he'd drawn the map. Dark Angels are ruthless in their torture techniques.'

Tobin and Orion still looked at Londrak with scepticism, though they said nothing. Adem took a sip of his cider before he said, 'Very well, we go with the plan. But mark my words Londrak, if we find ourselves walking into a trap, I will take away your title and have you thrown in the dungeons.' Londrak swallowed hard at that last comment, before he replied, 'I tried to argue against this course of action, when Lord Wil first proposed the mission. I consider it suicidal to march into Morgrahl Kordahn with such a small force of warriors. If you wish to postpone the mission, I for one will breathe a sigh of relief.'

'The opportunity is too great to give up without trying,' Adem said. 'But you are right; we need more men. If we return to Rutheldor now, we will lose valuable time. The best option is to recruit soldiers, Aldebrands and wielders along our journey south. We will be passing through Soroven Keep in a few days, if we set a slower pace. On the way there will be many mercenaries to recruit. We can then try Monjor, and also Rindola and possibly Tivar.'

'Calicos is the better option to Tivar,' Tobin suggested. 'Tivarens are busy watching the Green Border.'

'I will take your advice into consideration,' Adem replied. 'Let's start by seeing how many of these townsfolk can fit into a suit of armour. Londrak, send a dozen Aldebrands to recruit.'

Londrak signalled to a tall mortal Aldebrand, with a red wooden bow and green breastplate. Londrak gave the orders and the man pressed fist to heart, then later marched out with a trail of Aldebrands. Lunch was a spread of breads, cheeses, green olives, sliced green apples and assorted nuts. The cider was amazing, but also reportedly strong, so Adem only sipped the single pint. The voices were growing louder in the room when Adem said, 'It's time to go.' They couldn't find any altherin horses in any of the stables, so Adem and those he brought with him were given fine stallions and mares of the best mortal stock available. When Adem was in the saddle of the tall dark brown stallion named Ebrox—meaning Cold Wind in the Immortal Tongue—he gave the order and their slightly increased force set out at a trot.

Chapter 9

To Find a Cure

Calliestra sat in her study, reading over reports of the movements of the Sons of Odin, and the Daughter of Thor. Her long silken raven locks flowed down her back, some long strands falling around her pale oval face. Her large dark eyes staring at the brown parchment like a hungry fox.

Kelveroth Demonlord watched her with the focus of a dark wolf, looking over a scrawny rabbit, that might make a chewy meal for supper. Once he was known as Kelbon Lightveins, a great Warrior of the All-Father, who lived for over three thousand years before giving his service to the Jinn-Lord. The High-Jinn had then gifted him Jinn-Magic. It was a power that made him almost invincible.

Though the boy Highlander had learnt to wield the Spear of Odin, and this made Kelveroth nervous, as it did his Brothers also.

'What do you hope to achieve by this?' Kelveroth asked, his lowered voice rumbled like distant thunder.

'It will lead them right where we want them,' she replied in her crisp tone. 'Only three may enter, and when they do, we shall overpower them when I spring my trap.'

'Why do you require my assistance?' Kelveroth asked. He had never trusted Calliestra, though he felt more at ease around her, than he did amongst any other of her kind. She was one of the twelve Hex-Keepers; the Second Class of Fendinn's Generals. Their title referred to the Jinn-Magic the High-Jinn gave to those twelve; that made them almost as strong as the Hex-Warlords.

This was the reason for the distrust, the Hex-Keepers were greedy, seeking a higher place in the ranks whenever they saw an opportunity. It was different with his Brothers, they did not compete, and there was trust amongst them, though they preferred to work alone in fear of betrayal from one with equal strengths.

Kelveroth would not join with another Hex-Warlord, without direct orders from the High-Jinn. Though he saw merits in Calliestra's plan. If the three Sons of Odin could be separated from their protectors, perhaps even their Battle Angels could not save them.

'We cannot take demons inside?' he asked, while stroking the panther, that purred with its head in his lap. The creature was his pet for over two thousand years; its eyes were liquid shadows, as a result of the curse that flowed through its veins. To control the minds of animals was a gift Kelveroth had gained as a Dremelden youth, growing up in the Kingarin Forest. That ability had changed since he turned to the Shadow, giving him the ability to enhance the strength and ferocity of an animal with the aid of Jinn-Magic.

He'd brought Shendo to intimidate Calliestra, though the woman's focus upon those precious documents was too intense. To her credit, the woman had spies within both armies, at Rutheldor and Korhad. The document she took so much interest in, was a report that the Sons of Odin had all left in the middle of the night on some secret mission, first Wil Martyr at Rutheldor, then Carl Wilder and Adem Highlander at Korhad.

'What do you think they are up to?' Kelveroth asked.

'It matters not,' Calliestra replied with a vexed expression. 'When we lay the groundwork, they will come to us. The High-Jinn will shower us in glory for our triumph!'

Kelveroth resisted the urge to shake with laughter. The woman really was a complete fool. Jinn-Fendinn wanted the three Sons of Odin alive, not some quick ending to destroy all his plans. He wanted them to suffer. He wanted them to destroy this world. Though, the High-Jinn would still congratulate him if he was able to kill them all with one swift stroke.

***

Jean sat in her study, looking over old books, about finding a cure for all sorts of diseases and curses. The knowledge for Healing-Magic in Rutheldor was extensive, but there was little research into the vampire disease. Hayley sat across from her, her hands in her lap, with a meek expression on her face. Jean noticed the woman was still not so confident without her husband at her side. She may be fearful for his safety also, which would not have helped her mood.

Jean rubbed her hands over her blue silk skirt and red stockings; her coat was blue silk with blue leather boots. Terese stood nearby, leaning against the wall, with her arms crossed under her breasts. She wore an emerald-green silk coat; blue trousers and lime-green boots. The woman had begun to wear bulgy trousers more often than not since arriving at Rutheldor. She seemed more prudent about her appearance in front of so many mortals, particularly men.

'Still nothing?' Hayley asked. The poor girl must feel so guilty. Jean sifted through the pile of leather-bound books, as she replied, 'I'm not certain that we'll find what we're looking for. These manuscripts are ancient, covering all manner of disease and infection. Still, none of them contain the information we require.'

'Rutheldor was our best hope,' Terese said. 'If we can't find it here, it probably doesn't exist.'

'The vampire disease is only four thousand years old,' Jean replied, 'as old as Tairark Vampire-King's reign as one of the Hex-Warlords. Most of these books predate that time by three thousand years or more. We need to go through more recent studies, and begin our own, as we research the curse.'

'That could take centuries,' Terese said. 'Even then you may find no cure.'

'Then we're in serious trouble,' Jean said with a touch of irritation, though it was more to do with her uncertainty over how Adem and Carl had travelled so fast to meet up with Wil, earlier in the day.

Hayley hadn't sensed it as clearly as Jean, as Jean's connection to Carl and Adem was stronger than Hayley's. Hayley was closely linked to her husband through the kigare, and also to Jean. At least she knew they were there to look out for Wil, if they really planned to go ahead with their mission. What bothered her was how apparent it was that Adem had kept this secret from her. She would have to drill him for details the next time she saw him.

They then made their way to the Red Dining Hall for supper. It was a large room, reserved for women, where a banquet was always laid out for them. Jean sat with Hayley to her right, and Terese to her left, with Lady Elviara seated further along with an entourage of her ladies in waiting.

A new woman was also present, Lady Verielle, a slim, blue-eyed, blonde-haired woman, in a sparkling blue silk dress, embroidered with white foxes. Hayley wore yellow, slashed with white today, which pleased Jean after so many crimson dresses! Jean was introduced to Verielle by Elviara, who assured Jean that Verielle was a close friend of hers since childhood, and a great ally in her every endeavour. Jean had seen the woman in the hallways from time to time before this meeting, though this was first time Verielle had attended a meal. Her hair was thick golden locks, that framed her pale face with a pretty nose and a pointed chin. She looked young too, with brown freckles on her cheeks and large eyes; though she guessed the woman was much older than she looked, as she was also Ael Tarael.

Elviara and Verielle sat whispering to one another, giggling like schoolgirls! Still there was a subtle niceness to Verielle, a sweet sort of innocence that Jean would have seen in herself, before she passed through the Chameleon Arch.

'Tell us what you're finding so amusing?' Terese asked, she seemed distrustful of Elviara, and seemed to appoint that same mistrust to anyone close to her. The two women stared back with innocent expressions as Elviara said, 'A funny story about our childhoods, when we first came to Rutheldor as Seidrs.'

So, she is much older, then. If she was Seidr with Elviara, she could be over fifty!

'Enlighten me,' Terese said with a calculating grin.

'Well,' Verielle said, in her voice like morning dew, 'we used to play a game with the young boys, a kissing game! We would each line up four boys of a similar age, and then we would take turns kissing each of them, to find out who was the best! And then we'd take each one by the hand and place it on our—'

'Spare me the rest,' Terese interjected. 'You two must have been very close back then, sleeping in the same room together, just two girls alone sharing secrets ... in the shadows.' Her grin remained, and her tone was insinuating. The two women appeared mortified at the apparent accusation, as Verielle asked, 'Are you implying that our morality is not pure of heart?'

'I was just speaking plainly,' Terese offered. 'You two must have shared so much together.' Her tone did not imply further offense this time, and the two women returned to their quiet banter. Jean thought they were just two women with a head full of power, and little wits to know how to wield it. They were harmless, a fly on the wall compared to her troubles. Terese was suspicious of most people, other than Jean and Hayley. She reached for a slice of apple and put it out of her mind, as she took a bite and began to chew.

***

Adem and his forces travelled the main road, from Soroven Keep towards Tentor, moving at a slower pace to allow the mortal horses to keep up and remain healthy. The road was called the Kel'ahl Path, an ancient name which referred to the Kel'ahl; warriors of the region in Ages past. They were in fact one of the twelve immortal clans, before the wars that resulted in the forming of only four clans.

The Kel'ahl were similar to Wood Kin, and their descendants were now a part of the Dremelden. Their history and their abilities suggested they were similar to the myths of Brown Elves from Earth's legends, expert hunters and trackers, akin to the woodlands and forests, their powers originated from the Great Angels of growth and regeneration.

This region was once dense forests, the Kel'ahl hunting grounds, now it was miles of green fields and wheat and corn crops, with herds of cattle, goats and flocks of sheep. The Kel'ahl had long since left this land, moving to the Kingarin Forest, and further west to the Varin Forest, or even to the smaller woods of the West Lands.

These lands were now home to mortal farmers and their ruling lords and ladies, the trees cut down and the rivers irrigated.

On the first day they passed through the Harghor Mountains, the Kel'ahl Path ran between two of the biggest peaks, with a narrow pass most of the way, where they rode four abreast. Scouts were sent ahead to look for any signs of ambush, these mountains were home to outlaws and bandits, looking for an opportunity to take gold from unsuspecting travellers.

So, they set a good pace most of the way through the pass, known as the Knife Edge, though they were wary of any traps that may fall upon the road to block their path. They were clear of the pass by early evening, and they made camp at the foot of the dark mountain known as Eclariest Peak, the second largest of the Harghor Mountains. They found wood for fires and set up a perimeter of soldiers and Aldebrands, with the Alit'aren surrounding Adem and his friends.

Carl and Wil sat whispering to one another in front of a large fire, where a small cauldron of rabbit stew was brewing. The scents wafted to Adem, and his stomach began to rumble. Flat bread and water were all they had to enjoy the meal with, and Adem sat with Tobin and Orion while he ate, Arig eating with the Alit'aren and Lydia and Elmira dining close to the fire beside Carl and Wil.

Arig's red bow sat beside him, he was one of the very few men in all the lands who were still allowed to wield arrows of flame. Adem wondered why Jean hadn't insisted that he also give up wielding, though he was advised to only wield Air-Magic once a week unless in extreme circumstances. Perhaps she allowed it because Arig was a former Hero of Will, and she saw some necessity that he maintains some of his abilities from his former life.

The problem with that idea was that Arig would also eventually become sick with madness, and they could lose one of their most valuable advisors. The signs of the Sickness weren't strong in Arig, though his dark eyes were beginning to burn with suggestion of a temper. The former ghost wore dark leather trousers, green boots and a thick olive-green coat, with a high collar and gold buttons. He also carried an Aldebrand cloak, though none of them were wearing those in this heat. There was lingering warmth in the air this evening, even hours after the sun had set.

After eating Adem trained with the sword against Tobin and Orion, sometimes taking them both on at once, though he knew they were going easy on him. Both were amongst the greatest Agnars of this Age, taught in the forms since childhood, they probably had over a thousand years-experience between them. He was still not certain just how old the two men were.

'Lancing Leopard moving into White Peaks,' Tobin instructed, 'flowing into Grey Guard then finish with Steel Claw.' They were advanced forms, something they'd only taught him recently. He pushed at Tobin's defences with each flow of the forms, the Aldebrand Alit'aren easily defending his strikes with swift and graceful parries. 'Good,' Tobin continued, 'now, Cobra Fang, moving into Black Owl Swoops, flowing into Grey Guard and finishing with Crescent Moon.' By this time, they had practiced for nearly an hour, and the gruelling training brought ripples of sweat across Adem's chest and back.

If he was holding onto Angel-Magic, he would not sweat so much, though that would drain his strength. He tried to ignore his distant perception of Jean's emotions through the kigare; she was frustrated and irritable, though not in any pain or apparent distress.

The thought that she was safe kept him stable, though he longed to return to her when this mission was done. These thoughts passed through his mind as he moved from Chain Breaker flowing into River Warden, moving into Snow Dancer and finishing with Cross Blade. All were defensive moves that included many cutting strokes, to hack down those around you who were unaware of your position.

Tobin moved with the same casual grace as he assaulted Adem's defences with Heavy Panther, followed by Stallion Hooves, moving into Hawk Moth Flutters and finishing with Moon on the River.

Exhausted at the end of training, Adem returned to the campfire to sit beside Carl and Wil, the two were still engrossed in conversation when a shout was heard on the outskirts of camp. It wasn't an alarm cry, just a signal that someone was approaching.

The camp became alert and waited; finally, two Immortal Aldebrands stepped into the light, with four men following who were obviously bandits. Obvious because of the black cloth masks that hung from their waist belts, along with spiked clubs or maces, heavy axes across their shoulders and one with a thick broadsword.

They were tall muscular men, built like bears standing on two feet. All had shaggy red beards tinged with grey, and their eyes were blue ice. The widest of the four stepped forwards, he wore silvered armour; dark green coat, black trousers and boots. 'My name is Hamdril Longtooth. I am chief of the clans that roam these mountains.' Adem was about to point out that they weren't a clan, but in fact a pack of thieves, though he let the man continue. 'We watched you journey through the mountain pass, and we became curious. Our scouts described the faces of the three young men I see before me, the three Sons of Odin, there be no mistaking that. It is to you, Sons of Odin, that I make my address. We see honour in following you and your men, even if you be marching into the pits of the Underworld we shall follow, if you will lead us.

'Our clans have longed for an opportunity to redeem ourselves in the eyes of the Free Landers. Once, in ancient times, we served as a personal guard to King Alsev Maroki, who was ruler of the lands from Rutheldor to Soroven Keep.' Arawn confirmed to Adem through the kigare that the man spoke the truth.

'What would you ask in return?' Adem asked.

'We ask only for the opportunity to serve you, Son of Odin,' Hamdril replied with fist to heart, 'and a return to a place of honour amongst you and your armies.' Adem groaned as Carl asked, 'What honour is there in thievery?' This needed to be handled delicately, and making accusations was exactly what he wanted to avoid. He gave Carl a warning glare as Hamdril replied, 'Game is scarce in these mountains, trade is almost non-existent, so it is true we lighten the load of travellers with deep pockets, though we only ever take half their riches at most. We despise living this way; we only wish to find a strong leader who will return us to our rightful place, as an Honour Guard to protect him and those close to him.'

'Well spoken, Hamdril Longtooth,' Adem said. 'I wonder, just how many men you have who are willing to serve?'

'I can bring five hundred warriors out of the mountains this night,' Hamdril replied. If most were built like this man, he would have an army of fierce mercenaries similar to the clans of ancient Scotland.

'How many do you have in total?' Adem asked, which brought a new stance of pride in the four men, as Hamdril replied, 'If we are returned to a place of honour, the four clans would number over five thousand fully grown warrior men, plus women and children. Eleven thousand in total.' Adem could barely hide his surprise; those mountains must have a network of caves suitable for housing so many people.

There was no honour in living in such conditions, forced to rob travellers to buy food from nearby farms and villages. He pitied this man, Hamdril and his people, but he also needed them. He needed those five hundred warriors most especially.

'We have an important task to fulfil,' Adem said. 'Your five hundred may join us to prove their worth at protecting the Sons of Odin, along with my closest companions, Arig Flame-Bow, Tobin Fire-Heart, Lydia Ever-Light, Orion Demon-Slayer and Elmira Golden-Braid.'

That brought a whistle between Hamdril's teeth as his eyes passed over Adem's companions once more, before he replied with fist to heart, 'It would be a great honour to serve, Son of Odin. Let it be known that my people take our duty very seriously. We shall not fail you. Even if we fall to the last man, you shall be protected.'

'Well said,' Adem replied. He gestured to the two Aldebrands as he said, 'Go with these men and gather the five hundred. We leave at dawn. I want every man in a saddle and ready to ride by sunup.'

'That be the slight catch, you might say, Son of Odin,' Hamdril said with a touch of nervousness. 'We only have about one hundred mules, used to transport food from the nearby villages to our mountain homes. I regret to inform you my men must march until you are able to provide us with mounts.'

That will slow things down a great deal, Adem thought, though he needed those warriors, so he would have to sacrifice time for strength of arms. 'Bring your men, and we shall see what can be done.'

Chapter 10

Watcher in the Dark

Adem tried to get some rest, while they waited for Hamdril's warriors. He lay on his sleeping blanket and closed his eyes. Soon the images of Ael Tarael and Alit'aren filled his mind, colours swirling as the two opposing sides battled. Those images were common while sleep took him these days, a sign of the deeper concerns he felt for the future of this land.

A cool breeze blew across his skin ... and suddenly he was standing on a large boat ... in that strange part of the East Lands with dark towers rising from fortifications on the distant shore ... the water was pitch black. The surface broken by huge fish with lizard faces, black scales with the bones of men tied to their backs with heavy chains ... the boat was larger than the first time he'd been to this place. A shimmering golden craft with emerald and aqua shields glowing on the sides. A Viking ship, possibly a craft used by the invaders, who had crossed the West Sea, to attack the West Lands, for tens of thousands of years ... the sky above was black clouds lined with silver edges. Forked lightning pierced the sky; the rolling toll of thunder echoing in his ears. A black cat appeared on the deck of the ship, large black eyes like liquid shadows. It must have been a panther by its size, though there was a power emanating from it that spoke of witchcraft. An evil force similar to that of the Hex-Warlords.

A figure appeared, clouds billowing and flowing upwards to take the form of a dark cloaked man in a deep hood, though the familiar eyes of flame burnt within the cowl. He couldn't make out a mask to guess which of the High-Servants this was, though he was certain it wasn't Tairark Vampire-King this time.

Adem reached for his blade, and this time his grasp closed around the golden hilt. He drew the sword and it emanated pale blue. The High-Servant reached for his own sword hilt, drawing the blade that glowed crimson. 'I have been expecting you,' the voice of the man was like soft thunder. 'We have much to discuss.'

Adem reached for Odin-Magic, lightning and ice flooding his veins, Jinn-Magic a rancid taste that made him shift his balance as nausea set in. The High-Servant began to chuckle, a deep booming echo in the air. 'You have no need to protect yourself in my presence,' said the man. 'We are Brothers, you and me. We share a bond of ancient powers.'

'Jinn-Magic is not mine!' Adem shouted. 'It will not make me turn to your side!' The rumbling laughter from the High-Servant was like a lion's mirth.

'You will join with us when the Prophecies are fulfilled. It is your destiny, Adem Highlander. Already Jinn-Magic turns you like a worm turns in an open grave. It becomes a part of your mind, your heart and soul.'

'I will fight it!' Adem shouted, straining to keep his calm. 'You will never win!'

'The Shadow will annihilate this world, and in turn your own world will fall. That is of no concern to me, what will be is carved in stone. My question is where you and your Brothers are heading? South, I know that much already, but where is your destination? What are you planning?'

Adem considered that this creature was capable of reading minds, so he did his best to empty his thoughts of their plans for hunting Tairark. The Hex-Warlord began to chuckle again, saying, 'I have seen your mind, Highlander, you travel south to try to ambush Tairark in his lair. You would expect me to inform him of this, though I wish you luck in your endeavours. One less High-Servant is a higher probability of becoming the High-Seat of the High-Jinn.' Adem realised he had to trust the words of this monster, they had gone too far to turn back from their mission, though if he was lying, Tairark would be ready for him.

'Why should I believe you?' Adem asked.

'I have stated my reasons,' the man replied. 'I would be more concerned with how you will achieve your aims. Strength of arms will be feeble against any of my kin. Even your Battle Angels will be hard pressed to make a dent in Tairark's armour. You need a good plan of attack. The element of surprise is vital to your success.' The figure coalesced to become swirls of dark clouds once more, floating across the deck and over the side. The panther licked its paws and turned to stalk away, fading in a transparent mist. Swirls of fog flowed in around from all sides, covering the boat, filling his vision ... he sat up awake, heaving for breath. Carl and Wil lay sleeping beside him; both appeared peaceful, which suggested no similar nightmares. Carl insisted he'd never been visited by any Hex-Warlords since entering Kismeria and learning the spell of Nightshade. Wil also stated that he'd had no such nightmares since their Arrival. It was strange, how did the High-Servants know how to find him? Was he really visiting that place by his own choice? More questions, he thought to himself. More riddles to solve.

Adem waited by the fire the rest of the night, until Hamdril's warriors began to approach in small clusters. Each man was armed to the teeth, with long handled hammers or double-edged axes sticking up above their shoulders, swords at their waists, daggers, throwing knives, maces and whatever else they could carry it seemed.

The bulk of the force were built similar to Hamdril. Large men with wide shoulders, deep chests and long thick beards of red or dark brown, though some were dark haired with jet black eyes. Many also had tattoos on their arms, similar to the styles of Roldoc, tribal markings in black or green or blue, sometimes even with hints of red or yellow; some even had the markings on one side of their faces from brow to chin. They looked like veteran soldiers, every one of them, though Adem wondered how long it'd been since any of them had faced a real battle.

Most arrived before the morning light, though Adem was patient as he noticed more moving along the fields than the promised five hundred. Word must have spread that the Sons of Odin were allowing Hamdril's people to return to a place of honour.

By the time Adem had finished his breakfast, he estimated there were close to a thousand of Hamdril's men on the field. He was tempted to wait for more, every blade was needed to fight this battle, but it seemed wiser to save the rest for a much larger fight. By mid-morning they began to ride out, with Hamdril's men forming an Honour Guard, striking up a song as they marched.

They sang in proud deep voices, the Immortal Tongue like some ancient chant, and perhaps it was, and the words in the common tongue were filled with regret and sadness. Adem questioned his Battle Angels on the meaning of the chant, which Arawn interpreted as, High Blood soars! Low Blood flows! Fight for Honour and be bold! Women cry! Men die! Sing for the Kings of Old! Adem was moved once he learnt the true meaning of the words, much more than he was when he first heard it. They continued the song for the first hour of the march, until the sky became grey as a strong southerly wind blew storm clouds overhead. An hour later a light rain began to fall, then a loud boom of thunder echoed overhead, and the shower became a downpour. There was no more singing after that, just a slow trudging through muddy fields, the horses stepping warily over small rocks and down sloping hillsides.

In this region the land was hilly, with many ditches, valleys and ravines, all with rivers or streams flowing through them. All were shallow however, which made for an easy crossing for those on horseback, though Hamdril's men were half soaked from wading in the waters throughout the day.

They headed southwest with the Duke's Road flanking them on the right, the road led to Tentor where they would attempt to recruit more men, and then follow the Duchess's Path which joined Tentor to Mendora.

Adem pulled his dark cloak around his form to block the chill on the air, rain still pelted down five hours after it had begun. It would be difficult to make camp out in the open, though forests held the danger of demons lurking in the shadows. He still hadn't seen a full map of where all of the Travelling Gates were in this region. He knew there was one close to the road, beyond the small forest that lay east of the road, known as Varkhel Woods. That worried him as they passed the outskirts of the forest and daylight faded.

It was still a grey sky when they made camp on the opposite side of the road, on a hilltop with the Duke's Road twisting southeast, then south through the valley below. A wide river also flanked the road at the base of the valley. Scouts were sent into the forest to seek out possible signs of recent demon activity, mostly Aldebrands with a few Alit'aren to form shields if necessary. They returned at night, with little moonlight passing through the thick storm clouds that still blew overhead.

The scouts had nothing of importance to report, no tracks or sensing of a demonic presence. That put his mind at ease to a degree, though he wished to reach Tentor as soon as possible. They'd passed through a small village during the day, where they bought a dozen good horses for Hamdril and his other chiefs. The rest would have to walk until they reached a larger village with more horses to spare.

Fires were lit, burning amber in the darkness. Mist oozed from the ground, making shapes like pale phantoms floating on the winds.

Carl and Wil sat close to Adem by the fire. Tobin and Orion practiced with their swords against some of Hamdril's warriors, something Adem had suggested, to learn just how good these warriors were. Adem sat and watched the sparring for a good hour after supper—spit roasted rabbit and flat bread—and he saw that even some of the youngest or most scrawny of the clansmen were adept at battle and weaponry. Even Orion and Tobin seemed cautious when fighting some of the larger men, wielding those heavy axes or hammers.

Other Alit'aren also practiced against the clansmen, until the fields surrounding the fires were a scene of shadows wielding steel, glinting golden or silver as they clashed with wood or iron, clanging noises filled the air as if a real battle was taking place.

Adem sat on his sleeping blanket, with Carl at his side. Wil was snoring softly near midnight. Tobin and Orion returned to the fire as Arig also appeared from the shadows. The three men spoke in hushed tones in front of the fire, before they moved to sit before Adem and Carl on three dark green blankets. Lydia and Elmira moved to sit beside their husbands, Lydia in fine blue silk, under a white woollen cloak. Elmira in a navy silk cloak and a white embroidered gown.

Both had their hoods pulled down over their faces, the cowl covering their eyes and throwing shadows over their noses and lips. They sat in silence as the men spoke, each listening like a faithful feline waiting by their master's side, though Adem knew both women had recently taught their husbands how to heel like a hound. Next, they would be teaching them how to fetch and beg!

'We need more men for this mission!' Tobin growled. 'Five thousand, at least! An even larger host will need to defend the horses, picking off any vampires that try to escape.'

'I hear your words,' Adem said, 'and I consider their value.' He had learnt to speak to the two former kings in such ways since they lost their crowns. They were no longer rulers to give commands, they were his advisors. Even that honourable title was his gift to them.

In truth, he valued every scrap of advice they gave, though he couldn't allow too many outsiders to witness such appreciation and acceptance of their knowledge. If word of it got back to Jean, he might find he also lost his titles! And more importantly, my privileges, he thought with concern. The last time he saw Jean alone she had shied away from his advances. His worst fear was facing a permanent ban on intimacy.

'Strength in numbers is an advantage against foes such as Tairark,' Arig said. 'Though strength in Angel-Magic is what we'll truly need to have any hope of success. Tairark is strong, perhaps not stronger than all of your Battle Angels combined, though Tairark can fight for hours. Therefore, it seems wise to spare your Battle Angels from any fighting until we face Tairark.'

'How will we fight our way through five thousand vampires and avoid waking Tairark?' was Carl's question, and a good one. It had occurred to Adem long before. Thousands of armoured soldiers on horseback would sound like an avalanche to the High-Servant.

'So how do we do it?' Adem mused.

'What about Llew Llaw Gyffes's teleport ability?' That came from Wil, who was now awake. He had still been snoring quietly only moments before. He was lying flat now; his chest rising and falling.

'What about it?' Arig asked.

'Too many men for that to work,' Adem said. 'Llew would need to vanquish a hundred thousand Jacoulra before he could move a force that size. Even then, he could probably only move them a short distance, and he'd be completely sapped of strength!'

'But a short distance is all we really need,' Arig mused, rubbing his bearded chin. 'A short jump from a mile or two away, to teleport our forces inside the tombs. The bulk of the force to fight the vampire hordes, and the Sons of Odin and all here present to enter Tairark's lair to spring our trap.'

'It can't be done!' Adem shouted, losing his temper again, another sign that he had forgotten to accept his daily Healing-Magic. Lydia had seen to that since the day they teleported from Korhad. Elmira had seen to Carl and Wil. They were the only Ael Tarael available, which meant most Alit'aren and Aldebrands were also going without their Healing-Magic, as the women needed to conserve their own strength. Adem saw Lydia raise a hand, extending it to him to perform the Healing-Spell. Then she hesitated and withdrew her attempt, her eyes visible for a moment, appearing to be shining with concern.

Just then Adem heard Arawn speaking to him through the kigare, his deep voice a soft rumbling in his mind as the Battle Angel said, A Link would increase Llew's ability. A short jump is all we need.

'But that would drain every Battle Angel of their ki'mera.' Adem said, to himself, though out loud.

'Of course, it will work!' Carl cried. 'Why didn't I think of that? The Battle Angels will form a Link to support Llew's teleport ability, giving us our short jump to exactly where we need to go. Tairark will be caught completely unawares.'

'But our Battle Angels won't be able to fight after that!' Adem shouted.

'It seems to be the only possible way, Adem Highlander,' Orion said. 'Any other method of approach will surely alert every vampire within. This will be on their turf, their rules; we must have this advantage over them if we hope to succeed.'

'But what hope do we have of defeating Tairark without our Battle Angels?' Wil asked, sitting upright and rubbing his eyelids with his fists.

'Little or none,' Adem replied, striving for calm. His brow would show signs of tension.

'So, what is the point of it?' Wil asked in disappointment. There was a long pause before Carl said, 'We'll take out his vampire army, and show Tairark we aren't afraid of him. It will be a lesson to all the High-Servants, perhaps making them more cautious. Even the Hex-Warlords can feel fear. We will not stand for evil. We'll seek it out and drive a stake through its heart!' Bold words, Adem thought, and not at all the usual peaceful perspective he expected from Carl.

'It still might not work,' Adem said, finally calm again.

'Why won't it work?' Carl asked. Adem sighed deeply before he replied, 'Because, last night, I had another one of those nightmares.' As he began to tell his friends about the dream where he spoke to one of the High-Servants, he saw their faces change from interest, to concern. Then when he explained that this High-Servant had learnt of their destination, he saw their faces marked with open outrage.

'He tricked you, Adem Highlander,' Orion whispered. 'Hex-Warlords cannot read minds; we must have a Shadowsouled amongst us who informed him of our mission.'

'No prizes for figuring out who my first guess would be,' Wil said, and then one by one, all turned to regard Londrak. He sat with his back turned to them, as he spoke to two of the mortal Aldebrands who were supposed to be keeping an eye on him.

'It's not enough to accuse him of it openly,' Tobin said.

'I hear your words and I consider their value,' Adem replied, through clenched teeth. He felt like a complete fool. Why hadn't he questioned his Battle Angels about this mind reading trick. A Shadowsouled amongst them! Bloody perfect! He realised his hand was clutching his sword hilt. Of course, there was still no proof he was the one. They would have to be especially cautious from now on. Every move they made could be broadcast to the High-Servants, until they put a ferret down the hole to flush out the mole.

***

Jean's white mare danced nervously, amongst the masses of larger warhorses that flanked her. Aldebrands and Alit'aren rode those horses mostly, with sleek mares of lighter colours for the Ael Tarael, in their bright silk dresses, and woollen or silk cloaks. Terese and Hayley also rode white horses, moving up to flank her on either side, both with tightly braided ponytails, their dark eyes burning with anticipation. Hayley wore yellow silk under a crimson cloak, and Terese wore shimmering blue armour over a navy coat, thick white stockings and knee-high navy-blue boots.

They were gathered in the Royal Stable Yards of Rutheldor, preparing to head for Korhad, to await the Sons of Odin, and from there to invade the northern Border Kingdoms, where they would confront the rebel Alit'aren.

It was mid-morning, a brightly sunlit day with scattered white fluffy clouds. The sky was a brilliant pale blue, with falcons and eagles gliding on the warm air currents. Even within the walls of the city there was a warm breeze, though any kind of breeze was refreshing under a sun that flared with such heat.

Jean wore a white silk coat and short skirt, embroidered with black foxes, pale blue stockings and navy-blue leather boots. Her cloak was sky blue wool, embroidered with white foxes. She'd chosen the outfit herself, making sure to don a silver breastplate to avoid a confrontation with Terese.

She'd waited at Rutheldor long enough, delayed was a better word for it, seeking answers to the vampire curse, hoping to discover a cure. It was time to move on. Elviara and Verielle sat their white mounts also, the crowds of larger horses parting to allow them passage to join with Jean and her entourage. The golden-haired women were pouting with discontent expressions, perhaps because Jean had ordered that they join her on this journey, or perhaps they had other secrets. 'You keep a close eye on those two,' Jean whispered to Terese, 'won't you?'

'Like a hawk,' Terese replied with teeth bared, feigning a smile. Elviara moved up alongside Jean, forcing Terese's horse to give way, and Verielle did the same on the other side between Jean and Hayley. Immediately their spirits seemed to lift, as if they were contented to be at the side of the Daughter of Thor, amiable servants with high hopes of impressing their commander. An obvious ruse, of course, and Jean saw straight through it. They wanted to get on her good side, did they? Well, she'd allow them to believe that they were.

'It would seem prudent to allow two powerful Ael Tarael to guard you on this journey,' Elviara said with calculating smoothness, wearing blue silk today under a white woollen cloak, 'rather than a fallen Hero, and a woman who gains her strength from an evil curse.' Hayley bared her fangs at the remark. Terese was outraged, her white knuckled grip on her reins was clearly to avoid throttling Elviara! The two Ael Tarael cared not to notice however, and Jean did her best to focus on the path before her. She began to ride through the grey stone courtyard with the four women following at her sides.

'Perhaps you're right, Elviara,' Jean said. 'I have need of protection, and women experienced at battling evil are welcome in my closest circles.' That comment seemed to make the two women sit up even straighter, with sounds of ten thousand horse hooves clipping the pavement.

That was just the Royal Stables, the full force would number over thirty thousand mounted warriors, including Alit'aren and Aldebrands, though only a small portion of that number were wielders, with an added two hundred Rutheldoran Ael Tarael, to protect the Daughter of Thor.

Jean still hadn't made any announcements to restrict or ban female wielders from touching terael, though her ban on any attempts to use the new curse to an advantage was made clear, in declarations posted throughout Rutheldor, and sent to the four corners of the Free Lands.

Two hundred immortal Ael Tarael and fifty Alit'aren also joined them on this journey. It was a migration from one ruling nation to another, bringing with them a force of arms to protect the Borderlands, but also to protect themselves from the rulers of those lands.

'Still no word from Lord Adem or Lord Carl?' Verielle asked—garbed in red slashed with yellow and a golden cloak embroidered with grey foxes—to which Jean replied, 'No word as yet, though I trust they will return when the time is necessary.' Jean caught a look of surprise in the little woman's crystal blue eyes. Let her stew on those thoughts as she tried to puzzle out their meaning. But, after a long pause, Verielle said, 'I trust your word on such matters, Daughter of Thor.' The woman wore an expression of pure loyalty, though Jean could see she was anxious, out the corner of her eye, while the woman waited on a response.

Jean flicked a glance to her right side to see a similar expression flare across Elviara's face. So, they were delving for treasure, were they? She'd put a gold coin in each of their Christmas puddings before the day was through. What is Christmas? Tanriel asked through the kigare. To which Jean replied; It's a holiday, like Bellatanus, to celebrate with friends and family, give gifts and enjoy a feast. Her Battle Angel seemed to be contemplating this while brooding in the darkness of the curse, though she made no further comment.

After a time Anwen asked, So, you mean to give them a treat? To which Jean replied, A treat of sorts, I'll alert them to something they'll relish to hear, though it'll be something I wanted them to know. Jean then sensed Hayley's amusement through the kigare, suggesting her Battle Angel, Druantia, had shared the subtle plot with her. Jean smiled, a knowing grin, and then began to plan just exactly what sized herring she would feed to these two fisher birds.

Chapter 11

Crossing the Ravine

It took close to two months to reach the southern border, where Adem and his forces arrived at the city of Calicos. The city lay northwest of the mountain ranges that divided the Southlands from the Free Lands, close to the South Sea coastline. The city was fortified brown stone, standing sixty-feet high on the outer wall, with the Palace rising even higher, situated on a high hill at the western walls of the city, and climbing into the rock face of the Troghor Mountains; white capped blue-grey stone, with clusters of pine and oak forests on the western side.

Adem stood in one of the high towers of the Palace. He looked down onto the coastline, and the many ships docked there, including crafts of the Ruhalden, the Sea Immortals. As well as trader's ships, even some vessels that belonged to pirates willing to pay the fees to dock at a busy trade port. Brown and grey stone buildings moved in a jagged maze towards the docklands, where piers and docks stretched along the coast, with three larger stone piers moving out into the deep waters. They were called The Three Fingers, built over three decades ago, when King Erroll decided to increase the wealth of his kingdom, by inviting the larger trade ships to visit his port. King Erroll was immortal, as was his wife Queen Senfia.

Adem stood alone in the high tower, looking out over the ocean. He heard the familiar light footsteps approaching, and resisted the urge to groan, though at the same time his heart felt more at ease to know who was approaching.

'Brooding up here in your tower, Lord Adem?' The voice was harmonious like most female immortals, though more youthful, and yet, just as dignified as Lydia or Elmira would sound. Adem nervously ran a hand through his hair, that wasn't tied in its usual tail today, hanging loose around his shoulders.

It was early morning still, the sky pale blue with white clouds on the horizon, a warm breeze sweeping through the open window. He wore a navy woollen coat with golden buttons, dark trousers and knee-high pale blue leather boots. They were a gift from King Erroll, and the King had gifted him many outfits since his arrival. Adem wondered if the motivation for those gifts, was the young woman standing behind him.

The daughter of the King and Queen was young, not much older than she looked in fact. He turned to regard her, a woman who stood about the height of his chest, chestnut brown eyes that radiated youth and immortality. Raven black hair tied in a thick braid, today she wore shimmering emerald silk, embroidered with black birds with little orange beaks. In a word, she was, breathtaking.

He immediately began to play with his hair, tying it back with the leather cord around his wrist. 'I was just taking my morning air, Princess Isabelle.' She had a face that was kind of round though kind of long, with high cheekbones and bright apple-red cheeks when she was blushing, which included this very minute! Long eyelashes and high thin pointed black eyebrows, she was the image of her mother, a child in a woman's body in some ways, her gaze sometimes wise beyond expectation, and at other times innocent and sweet. Today however, it was the look of a feline predator, preparing to pounce.

From the moment Adem first set eyes on this woman, he had felt emotions stirring, feelings he had not felt for any other woman since he had first met Jean. He felt guilty for it, he told himself to quash all feelings that could make him forget how important Jean was to him. He also feared Jean may sense those emotions in him. But he wasn't in love with Isabelle! He wasn't! He just, liked her a lot. In the past three weeks the woman had crawled her way under his skin. In some ways she penetrated his soul deeply. He was shocked to hear himself admit it, but it was the plain and simple truth.

Isabelle smiled, ruby lips that sparkled with some kind of lotion to keep them soft and moisturised, the knowing grin of a black cat. 'You have been accepting your morning Healing-Magic, yes?' She asked with a flash of concern in her dark eyes. 'Father says you and your Brothers must be cared for like lost lambs. So much depends on you three.'

Adem took a nervous step backwards, as Isabelle stepped forward to lay a hand on his chest. He suspected the woman's main motivation for such flirtation was her ambition to form a strong alliance with the Sons of Odin through marriage. As Carl and Wil were both already married, it made sense that the young woman would try to sink her claws into the only one left available.

As he retreated, his back touched the cool stone wall beside the open window. Her hand pressed up against his chest once more, she gazed into his eyes; her large liquid brown eyes filled this time with, obsessive desire! 'How long must we play this silly game of cat and mouse, Lord Adem?' she asked. 'Surrender to me, and my father will one day make you ruler of these lands. Surely you desire to rule every kingdom you can slip into your coat pocket, yes?'

'I may not be around long enough to rule, dear Princess,' Adem said.

'Isabelle, call me Isabelle.' She stroked his chin with her polished red nails, then clutched him by the ponytail and laid a hard kiss on his lips, forcing him back hard against the wall with her other hand shoved against his chest! For a time, he was lost in that kiss, her lips so soft and smooth, and his emotions changing from anxiety and distress, to contentment, even bliss. Then lust began to take over, and he found his hands moving to her curvaceous body parts. He sensed an emotion from Jean through the kigare; it was pure jealous outrage!

He pulled away, nearly splitting his skull as it hit against the stone wall behind him. Isabelle looked up in surprise; her eyes still alight with fanatical lust. 'You cannot treat me as some tavern wench to throw across your knee when you so desire,' she said with fire to her tone, 'then cast me out because you have stabs of guilt for the one you left behind!'

Why did women have to get so damn jealous all the time?

'Forgive me, Princess, it was a moment of weakness on my part. I regret to say; my heart belongs to another. Jean is my heart; my very soul, forgive me.' Isabelle pulled away, pain plainly written on her face, an expression of pure heartache.

'How dare you, Adem Highlander!' she snapped, and then slapped him across the face, before gliding off towards and through the door, sniffing to resist the beginning of tears.

When he was alone, all he could feel was his own guilt, mixed with Jean's still burning temper. How was he going to explain this to her? He returned to gazing out to sea, his thoughts heavily burdened. Almost instantly his symptoms began to rise; anxiousness, tension in his brow and jaw, he clenched his fists as rage began to take over. He wasn't sure how long he stood there brooding before he sensed Carl approaching, but his friend was then walking through the doorway as Adem turned to regard him with a tense frown.

'Princess Isabelle looks ... distressed,' Carl offered, hands behind his back in his dark coat and trousers. He and Wil had also been offered outfits during their stay, though both preferred to remain in Alit'aren black. Adem suspected his friends were amused at the way he was dressed up like some prize rooster to display at the market. Today's outfit was respectably modest compared to other times thus far.

'A slight complication on my part,' Adem admitted in careful tones.

'I see,' Carl replied. 'Well, we'll be on our way soon enough, and putting all of this behind us. Never a care for what we can easily forget, eh?' His tones suggested he also knew how much Adem had become accustomed to Isabelle's enchantment. He would not easily forget, but he did have to move on with his mission.

'What is the report?' Adem asked. He had assumed command of the mission some time ago, putting Carl in charge of gathering mercenaries to join their cause. For a time, Carl had split up from the main force, taking a heavy guard to the other cities along the journey while Adem and Wil continued south. Carl had arrived at Calicos nearly a week after Adem.

'We've gathered a large army in this region,' Carl began, 'almost as many as we arrived with and more are on their way from the outlying farms and villages. I've maintained caution in regard to the nature of our mission. I still fear the Shadowsouled amongst us has most likely already alerted Tairark.'

'We don't know that though, do we?' Adem asked. He turned to regard Carl; his friend stood with a quizzical raised eyebrow before responding with, 'Yes...that's true, we don't know. Our best hopes are in the plan to use Llew's teleport ability. The element of surprise will gain us some advantage.'

'What is the total of our forces so far?' Adem asked.

'Three thousand seven hundred and fifty-four,' Carl replied with a straight back.

'And you estimate it'll more than double with the recruits that march from the nearby kingdoms?'

'That's what I can estimate from my reports.'

'It's not enough,' Adem said. 'But it will have to do. Once we have such numbers, we march for the Southlands.' Carl gave a nod, the closest thing to a bow Adem ever expected to see from the man. His friend was good at receiving orders, even better at taking command of those warriors, though he gave little signs of respect to Adem when they were alone.

In public he would sometimes salute—with fist pressed to heart—when Adem commanded him, though Adem had never seen him even begin to bow. Adem respected that too, whatever had changed in them all since their viewings in the Chameleon Arch, his friends remained just that, his companions till death, but always his equals however much they deferred to his leadership. 'This hair is getting too long,' he said, running a hand over the thick ponytail that ran down past his shoulder blades.

'New recruits arrive every hour,' Carl replied, to change the subject, seemingly sensing that Adem's comment had more to do with his women trouble than the length of his hair. 'I expect we'll have the numbers we need by the end of the month.'

More time alone with Isabelle, Adem thought with guilt returning. Though the truth he could not deny was, he was glad for it. His sense of Jean was that her mood had settled somewhat, though she would not forget what she had discovered this day, and perhaps had known was coming ever since Adem first set eyes on Isabelle. 'I also know of a fine barber shop on the corner of Cutler's Lane in the Red Fin Quarter,' Carl began, then Adem caught a glimpse of a grin on his friend's face as he continued with, 'no pretty young women to distract a man from his duty, just a swift clean cut.'

Adem glared at him as he said, 'I haven't forgotten about my devotion to Jean, old friend. The Princess is just, well ... she's a friend, and sometimes friends get closer to each other than they originally intended, and ... Oh, I don't know what; women will be my undoing before Fendinn has his chance!'

Again, his friend stared with that raised brow, though this time it twitched nervously, as he apparently fought the desire to allow his smirk to turn into a fit of laughter. He held his reserve however, nodding, and departing after saying, 'I'll see you at lunch.'

After a time Adem returned to his brooding, he tried his breathing techniques to soothe his mind, but it did little, as was the case most often of late. His Battle Angels also descended into darkness and flames through the kigare, they spoke to him less and less these days, only responding to his questions when they thought it necessary, rather than appropriate. To his complete shock he heard Arawn offer; A man can love two women and still be a whole person, Son of Odin. But he may find it difficult to know which direction he is headed.

Adem sighed deeply, feeling a state of calm wash over him for the moment, as he replied; Wise words. I shall contemplate their meaning. He then sat with his palms in prayer position, ran through the Lord's Prayer to begin with, then moved into breathing techniques to try to reach a higher state of awareness. Arawn guided his thoughts, as always, providing him with visions of ancient battles, fallen heroes of myths and legends. He saw it all behind the darkness of his eyelids, a symphony of colour and light, swirling and coalescing from one vision to the next.

Another emotion he felt from those viewings was a deep sense of despair, for it seemed no matter how brave or how strong these warriors were, in time most were defeated. He wondered if the lesson he needed to learn was how to overcome that terrible sense of dread, the fear that nothing could stop Jinn-Fendinn, not even the Sons of Odin.

***

Jean sat in the Royal Dining Hall at Korhad. She had been here over a month, after a fairly slow journey from Rutheldor. They had recruited forces along the way, soldiers and farmer veterans who wished to follow the Daughter of Thor. She was deep in thought about the emotions she had sensed in Adem only moments before, brooding with anger over his betrayal.

She did not know the name of this Lady he had given himself to—she hoped it was a Lady and not some tavern bar maid—but she cursed the woman, whoever she was.

He was far to the southwest now and had been for the last three weeks. Tanriel assured her she could provide the name and identity of the woman, though Jean refused to hear any details. Tanriel did confirm that Adem was in the city of Calicos. That was her first guess when looking over maps the day before, but for the most part she had avoided asking her Battle Angels to confirm his location.

'Will you have milk with your tea, Lady Jean?' Prince Lune asked. He was a very well-mannered young man, though not young at all compared to Jean. Immortals were a strange puzzle to decipher, their wisdom so apparent in their eyes despite the youthfulness of their complexion.

He wore a deep green silk robe, over a dark green coat: grey leather trousers. His boots were lime-green and folded down at the knee. Jean wore crimson silk today, a short skirt and high collared coat with gold buttons, golden silk stockings and ruby leather boots.

'Milk but no sugar,' she replied. 'Thank you, Prince Lune.' She had tried to convince Lune to stop addressing her with formality, though if he insisted, she would do the same. He poured her favoured amount of milk from a small porcelain jug into her ivory cup, and then passed it to her with a warm smile. She took it gratefully and sipped it with a wide grin.

He really was a charming one. Terese sat beside her, apparently lost in thought, as she refrained from her usual tsking noises when Lune showed Jean such gallantry. It seemed Terese was actually defending Adem's right to be Jean's only partner, whenever Prince Lune showed more than a casual interest. It was a ridiculous notion of course, being affectionate with an Immortal Prince, and Lydia's son to be exact!

However, whenever he gazed at her with those big blue eyes, she sensed a deep connection, despite the fact that at times the dark centres of those eyes burnt with a dangerous glow. Lune assured her he followed the restrictions, wielding teron only once a week to form Shield-Spells. Yet Jinn-Magic was infecting them all more and more as the days went by. How long could they resist the inevitable? What hope was there for any of them?

'You look troubled, Daughter of Thor,' Lune said with concern. 'What can I do to settle your thoughts?' Jean realised she had still been brooding over Adem. She knew if she learnt just how beautiful this other woman was, she would be fraught with anxiety and self-loathing. Adem's betrayal was devastating to her! How could he allow another woman to kiss him? On the lips! She didn't need any confirmation from her Battle Angels to be certain that was exactly what had occurred just now. She would boil his bones in acid before she allowed him to touch her again!

'It's nothing, dear Prince,' she said. 'Just a stain on my best Sunday gown, I'll need to send it to the cleaners.'

'I'll have it taken care of right away, Jean Fairsythe!' Lune said, sounding flabbergasted that it hadn't been taken care of already.

'I was speaking in metaphors, Prince Lune, forgive my cryptic nature.'

'Oh ... no, but of course you were. Forgive me, Lady Jean,' Lune said looking abashed. She was gladdened that he had the sense not to inquire to the true meaning of her words. Adem could learn a few lessons from this man's common sense.

She gazed across at Hayley who sat talking to Elviara and Verielle. Hayley wore red silk under a dark cloak of fine wool, Elviara in dark blue silk and a white cloak, and Verielle in an emerald gown and navy cloak, embroidered with golden foxes.

Verielle had become quite close to Jean during their journey east, and since arriving at Korhad. Hayley spoke with them at mealtimes, though only then. Jean however had learnt to accept the self-important attitude of Elviara's close friend. Verielle really was a sweet girl, seemingly more a girl than a woman most days. Her innocence intrigued Jean to no end.

They often spoke in the confines of Jean's chambers, about boys and dresses and hair styles, girl stuff. Jean continued to keep Elviara close also, though she had not warmed to the woman as much as she had Verielle.

She had decided both women were just harmless figureheads. Terese still watched them with unease, though Jean had advised her to accept them as a part of her inner circle. She could not quite recall when exactly she had changed her mind about Verielle, but over time she started to see that the girl was special, in her own unique way.

Verielle looked her way and gave her a bright-eyed grin. This time Terese noticed and made that tsk noise. Verielle shook her head, still smiling, and returned her focus to Elviara's conversation with Hayley. There was little hostility between the three women over Hayley's effect on terael, they seemed to take it in their stride and hold no blame over her.

Signs were beginning to show there also, however.

There was a new sense of energy associated with the curse. Ael Tarael were going for days without sleep, vitalised and vibrant, they each found their own little obsessions to take up their time. Some went into studies of cures; others practiced new Angel-Spells and discovered new possibilities. But along with the energy came the unsettling changes in the women's moods, at times elated and other times worrisome or bitter. Fights broke out amongst even the most reserved of Ael Tarael, bickering over the simplest of matters.

It was cause for concern; it seemed the curse would eventually infect their minds in a similar way to Jinn-Magic within teron. If that was true, something had to be done soon to avoid the spread of similar symptoms. If the curse would inevitably drive Ael Tarael into madness, it was a catastrophe waiting to happen.

Fortunately, none of the women had taken up a desire to drink blood, none had grown fangs or developed a susceptibility to sunlight. That suggested it was unlikely the curse would result in all female wielders becoming vampires.

She tried to focus her thoughts, still slightly perturbed over Adem and his unfaithful act, and uncontrollably troubled by the weight of all other responsibilities that lay upon her shoulders.

'I find tea is remarkably virulent at taking away the stresses that plague the mind,' Lune said, still scanning her for signs of unease. He lifted the pot to offer more, but she waved her hand as she said, 'It's just that things seem to be getting worse all the time. I have so much to consider. The tea is soothing though, thank you, Prince Lune,' then she smiled in a seductive way as she said, 'remarkably,' before taking another sip. If Adem Highlander wished to flirt with his little bit on the side, she could offer Lune more than common courtesy.

Terese said, 'Tsk, tsk!' Jean fought the urge to groan, still grinning at Lune. A great chasm had formed between her and Adem this day, wide and as deep as the foundations of the earth. He would need to build a solid bridge if he ever wished to cross it, or he would surely fall into endless depths.

***

Adem was making his way to lunch, when he crossed a hallway and nearly bumped head on into Isabelle. Her face showed the signs of recent tears, her eyeliner slightly smudged and her red cheeks puffy. She was a regal figure at the lowest of times, and this was no exception.

Despite her disgruntled mood she appeared every bit the daughter of a King and Queen. She held herself with perfect posture, staring him down with eyes that probed deep within his soul. Then in a flash her mood changed, her eyes were filled with sympathy, and she smiled, innocently, like a girl, though she was at least ten years his senior.

Immortals matured slower than mortals, most did anyway, he had learnt this particularly from his time spent with Isabelle. The wisdom in her eyes was often blurred by her child-like expressions and behaviours. She tapped a finger on his nose; he shied back but did not retreat. 'I forgive you, my sweetness,' she said. 'I understand the conflict you must be experiencing. On one hand you feel compelled to serve beside the Daughter of Thor, a fate you cannot escape, despite the yearning in your heart. On the other hand, you see me, the daughter of two great Houses, beautiful and kind, and a temptation to your heart that brings you chaos within.'

'I hear your words, Princess,' he began, but she cut him off, saying, 'You must give in to your true desires, Son of Odin. I know the truth of your most ardent wishes. I feel it in the way you look upon me. If you were any other man, I would order you to succumb to my demands. However, I shall offer you time to contemplate what I have told you.' She then blew him a kiss and turned to glide off down the hall.

Adem stood staring at her curves with a heavy heart as she moved off into the distance, the floor polished red marble, the walls blue-grey stone with red-and-gold tapestries. He wondered if what she had said was in some way true. Could he love another woman more than he loved Jean?

Despite her pointed ears, Isabelle was truly gorgeous, and she did make his heart melt whenever he gazed into her big dark eyes. But didn't Jean make him feel just the same way?

Of course, she did, he had just been too long apart from her to remember how he truly felt. But how was he going to settle things with Isabelle and still maintain a stable reputation with her father? The Ruhalden King was needed to uphold the immortal nations, especially after the fall of two of the four Immortal Kings.

Calicos was a relatively new kingdom, and although it was the home of their king, the Ruhalden travelled the coasts from here to the most eastern tip of the North Sea, trading and living on the waves. Aranel to the west was a much older Ruhalden city, where Erroll's son, Prince Kelkin, was ruler.

Eventually he arrived at the Royal Dining Hall, where he entered to find Carl and Wil, seated across from Tobin, Orion and Arig. Lydia and Elmira sat further down the long-polished table, whispering to one another, and not even looking up as he began to speak with his friends. He sat and was about to pour a cup of cider, when the door burst open and King Erroll stormed in with a look of outrage on his face!

Chapter 12

The Ruhalden King

King Erroll stood over Adem with cold blooded murder in his eyes, when the man was usually so calm and placid. His wife looked more Torvellen in skin tone, though she was of the Ruhalden blood. Erroll was of the Nordic clan, though he became the Ruhalden King through marriage. Senfia wished to form a strong bond with King Tobin, by joining with a member of his House. Therefore, Erroll looked nothing like most Ruhalden, fair skinned with blonde hair and blue eyes. He was similar looking to Tobin in build and height however, with a thick golden moustache and pointed goatee.

Adem nearly dropped the pitcher of cider at his shock from the King's entrance. He stared up knowingly, certain that the man had heard of the events that took place earlier in the day.

'My daughter is beside herself with grief!' the man shouted, pounding his fists down against the oak tabletop. 'She tells me you made advances upon her, and then you refused her outright, claiming that your heart belongs to another!'

'I have tried to make it clear to the both of you,' Adem began, with a perplexed expression, 'that there is a relationship between myself and the Daughter of Thor.'

'That gives you no right to toy with my daughter's emotions!' Erroll roared, he was a head and shoulders taller than Adem, and built with a wide frame.

'I was openly pursued by your daughter, King Erroll. I made no attempts to toy with her.'

'That is not the version she gave me, Adem Highlander,' Erroll said, though in a more cautious tone, as if he was remembering the way his daughter could twist the truth. Not that Adem knew such things of the woman before now; though Erroll's altered expression suggested he was well aware of such practices from his daughter. 'Regardless of who started it, I have seen the way you look at her. You would be a liar if you denied having feelings for her.'

'That is true, King Erroll,' Adem said. 'Though, I have tried to explain to your daughter that our feelings cannot continue. She must find a suitable husband. My place is with the Daughter of Thor.' He used Jean's official title to try to lend support to his argument that his duty was to serve by Jean's side, not Isabelle's.

'Still there is the matter of unresolved feelings,' Erroll said with a shrug of his bear-like shoulders. 'I wish you to search your heart, Adem Highlander, and choose, between your duty and your true desires.'

'I hear your words, and I shall consider their wisdom.' It was an arrogant response, especially considering the man's temper, but Adem had to learn to address all rulers in such a way, even kings who still held onto their crowns. He then noticed both his friends wearing amused expressions. Carl was attempting to hide his smirk behind his hand, while Wil was looking down at his hands, palms facing up on the tabletop, as if he'd never seen them before in his life! It upset him to think that he had hurt Isabelle's feelings, but the least his friends could do was try to keep a straight face about it. He thought they enjoyed the notion that there were still two women in this world who would not take orders from him.

Suddenly Lydia and Elmira broke into soft almost silent laughter, covering their mouths with their hands as they began to rock back and forth in their chairs. He was certain he started to blush after that.

Later when he was alone in his chambers, he heard a gentle knocking at the door. He feared he knew who it would be, but still he called, 'Enter!' Sure enough, Isabelle poked her head through the doorway, and then glided into the room, this time in a white silk gown sewn with pink pearls. Her cloak was ash grey silk, embroidered with cherry blossoms in pink and white. Her mood appeared calm this time, that unhinged look gone from her gaze, her eyeliner repaired; and her cheeks smooth and dusted with rouge.

'Father told me what he said to you, Lord Adem, forgive me. I only told him that we had a disagreement, and when he pressed me for details, I told him about our kiss.'

'I understand, Isabelle, no need to apologise. Now, if you would excuse me, I need some time alone to think about this predicament we find ourselves in.' Isabelle closed the door behind her, turning the key till the lock clicked. She smiled warmly, gliding up beside him, and then seating herself across his lap in the red armchair where he sat reclined. He couldn't possibly push her off; she was a Princess after all!

'We can discuss it together like mature adults,' she said, before he replied, 'I was actually talking about the curse on terael and taint on teron.'

'Those problems are beyond anything we can hope to mend at this stage.' She brushed a hand over his head, and then ran a finger over his eyebrows which made him twitch. 'We must deal with matters at hand, Adem Highlander, the issues that concern you and me.'

'I have to stay faithful, Isabelle,' Adem said, as she started to play with his coat buttons. He looked down to see her undoing two buttons, and then looked up as she moved in to kiss him again. He wanted to pull away, but she had his head pushed against the back of the couch. He wanted to say no, but a part of him wanted the kiss to continue. He wanted to be stronger, but inside he felt weak, helpless, without a hope of defending his integrity.

Time drifted, lost in the soft sweet kisses that became more passionate as time slipped by. Before he knew it, they had made their way to the four posted bed with red drapery. She pushed him down while straddling him like he was a pony at the fair. She sat up to start undoing her own buttons from the back of her dress, pulling the gown down around her shoulders and pushing it to her waist.

Once Adem saw her smooth pale skin exposed, he lost any chance of forbidding this decision. She threw herself over him to kiss him again. She stripped off his coat and ripped the buttons on his pale shirt, exposing his chest and abdomen. He wanted to refuse her, but he also wanted this to happen more than he had allowed himself to realise until this moment. Isabelle was gorgeous, so beautiful it seemed somehow impossible for her to be real. But she was real; she was a woman of flesh and blood, a temptress with unquenchable desire.

It was hours later when they both lay back on the sheets and took a moment to catch their breaths. The woman had the stamina of a raging torrent; her passion was like bathing in a sea of fire with a storm blowing overhead. The sensation that washed over him during those hours was comparable to feeling Angel-Magic flow through his veins. He had made a terrible mistake, though for now, he was basking in the radiance of the moment.

Surprisingly he had not sensed Jean's emotions the entire time he had spent with Isabelle. He wondered about that, had she learnt to switch off the connection somehow? Surely Jean had known what had just transpired, and surely, she was calculating her revenge like a Master of Games. However, despite the sense of guilt and dread that started to take hold of him, Adem felt that what he had done was in some way, right.

Then he felt it, his sense of Jean entered his mind, like the prying eyes of a she-dragon made of flames of pure rage, she was furious! He sat upright, a deeper sense of guilt and regret entering his heart and mind. He tried to send soothing thoughts to her to try to appease her anger, which resulted in a furnace of outrage scorching his mind, sent from Jean's mind to his. How was he going to explain his way out of this one? If she was this upset, she might never forgive his betrayal. 'What have I done?' he whispered, as he began to tremble all over.

Isabelle sat up next to him, the sheet pulled over her breasts as she laid a hand on his shoulder and said, 'You mustn't feel regret for what your heart knows is right, Adem. I can't expect you to forget your love for Jean, but you have given yourself to me too. We are connected now in a way that cannot be undone. Surely the rewards were worth the price you will pay?' As Adem reflected on that last comment he admitted, 'I suppose you're right Isabelle. It was my decision, and I shall pay whatever price Jean will exact upon me. I must admit, this isn't the first time I've found my heart torn between two women. It's a fault of mine, a lack of focus. I hate to say this, but I think this should be the only time we make this mistake.' Isabelle's eyes narrowed, like a dark hawk looking over its prey before reaching with its talons.

'You think this was a mistake, Adem Highlander?' She spoke the words like a hissing serpent, rage bubbling under the surface of her calm visage. There was danger when a woman addressed you in such tones, and a dangerous glow began to radiate in her dark eyes. 'You think that you can bed me and then turn me aside because you feel guilt and regret?' Her voice was becoming louder with each word. 'You think that I will stand aside and allow you to throw yourself at the mercy of the Daughter of Thor, to receive her punishments, and you believe that you shall escape my own?' Her eyes now appeared to be hot coals, wide and fuming, her face a mask of controlled rage.

'Forgive me, Isabelle, please, I need to think. I can't expect you to accept that I still have feelings for Jean, but what she and I have is a rare deep binding that goes beyond regular desire. We are joined by mind and spirit, and we've been together longer than I've known you. I admit; I want to continue a relationship with you, but I fear Jean may bring a punishment upon me that I may not be able to live with.' His words had seemed to calm Isabelle's mood a little, she regained composure, the fire dwindling from her gaze as she replied, 'It's alright, I understand. You need more time to think about your feelings for Jean, and your unbridled passion for me. I am pleased to say this meeting has satisfied me for the day, though I may expect more than this by tomorrow.' Adem swallowed a sore lump in his throat, in fear of what exactly that might mean. However, he restrained a sigh of relief when the woman sat off the side of the bed and pulled her dress up over her knees, and then stood to pull the gown over her shoulders. She gathered her dishevelled hair into a ponytail then twisted it up into a bun, turning to bat her eyelids as she asked, 'Can you button me up, sweetheart?'

Adem actually felt more guilt helping her back into her dress, than he had when helping her out of it. But that was the way of it he supposed, passion before rational thought. The red dragon still burnt in his mind, Jean's fury a crescendo of flames that rivalled the fires that wreathed his Battle Angels via Jinn-Magic. The sense was so disturbing; he had to wonder if the curse was causing some part of this new emotion. Was Jean going to experience similar symptoms to Adem as a result of the corruption on terael? That was a thought that troubled him deeply. He couldn't tolerate the idea that Jean could become ill in ways similar to himself.

Isabelle blew him a kiss, and then glided across the room, unlocking the door, leaving it half open and stopping to blow another kiss before she left. Adem sighed deeply after he heard her soft footfalls fading in the distance. Jean's emotions had not subsided in the slightest. Their next meeting would be a confrontation he might not survive.

***

Carl sat next to Wil, in the Royal Dining Hall, across from Tobin and Orion, with their two wives seated further down the end of the polished table. The usual dishes were prepared, roasted meats, sliced fruit and bread with large wheels of cheeses. Adem still hadn't arrived for his evening meal, the sky outside was dark although the moon shone brightly over the city and the clear sky revealed thousands of burning stars. That had been over an hour earlier, when Carl had looked out his window before making his way to dinner.

He sat chewing on some sliced duck in a rich dark sauce, when King Erroll burst into the room with a manic expression on his face. The bear-like form of the man seemed to dominate Carl's view, as he gazed up at the man. Carl felt a tad nervous around the man when he looked this crazed, which was rare up until the King had learnt of the affair between Adem and Isabelle.

'My daughter has informed me that she has given herself to Adem Highlander.' Surprisingly, his mood calmed dramatically as he spoke those words, and a look of amusement glistened in his eyes. 'Therefore, I feel it is now our duty to make arrangements for their marriage ceremony.' Carl nearly choked on the mouthful he'd been chewing. He finished chewing carefully before he said, 'It is my understanding that Adem has also "given" himself to the Daughter of Thor. If such an act is followed by immediate weddings in your culture, it would seem that Adem's engagement to Jean Fairsythe is already long overdue.'

King Erroll wore a perplexed expression, rubbing his forehead with one hand as his fingers drummed the table with the other. 'Well then, now, that is a pickle. I have already told Adem Highlander that he must choose between my daughter and Jean Fairsythe. I believe his actions on this day speak of the true nature of his heart.'

Carl pushed the plate aside and folded his hands in prayer position under his nose, a calculating pose, that gave him strength of mind through focus. 'That may be true, King Erroll,' Carl began, 'but my knowledge of Adem's emotions are that they can be a tricky thing to understand. In fact, you might say,' and Carl began to grin at this, 'that Adem Highlander's infatuations are dependent on his proximity to the object of his desires.'

King Erroll stroked his moustache thoughtfully, before replying, 'So, you mean to say, that he falls in love with every pretty face he sees?'

'You might put it in such terms, King Erroll,' Carl said, 'though it is not as simple as that, at least I don't think it is. Currently, Adem has feelings for two women, and he has given himself to both of these women, creating cultural repercussions.'

'Custom declares that he must marry my daughter within the week!' Erroll spluttered.

'Yes, that may be so, but we are talking about the fate of one of the Sons of Odin. Surely there are ways we can accommodate to custom and provide adequate leniency for the parties involved.' Carl then detected the soft laughter of Lydia and Elmira, the two women wearing sky blue silk this evening, giggling like schoolgirls behind their hands and shaking with mirth. Those two were changing since they'd lost the weight of responsibility. They seemed to enjoy life more, seeing humour in things that would have made them scowl with disdain in the past. Their laughter brought controlled expressions of amusement to the eyes of Tobin and Orion also, though both men bowed their heads to avoid getting caught up in the conversation. So, this was going to be Carl's responsibility to deal with Adem's free love persona!

'Let me talk to him, I'll see what can be arranged.' Carl spoke the words through clenched teeth.

***

Jean felt a part of herself breaking, like a deep wound ripping through her heart and soul. The betrayal! She wasn't certain if Adem felt her initial pain—that she tried to withhold from his senses—so terrible she struggled to remain standing, then as her assurance of the act he was performing continued, and then ended, she allowed him to feel the full force of her rage. After that she felt the heartache overwhelm her completely, she lost her balance and fell unconscious.

When she came around, Terese was the first face she saw, her large dark eyes filled with concern as she caressed her brow with slender fingers and polished nails.

'That damn foolish boy!' Terese said in pure irritation. 'I'll skin him alive this time, see if I don't! I told you to be more careful of your emotions, Jean. I warned you. He doesn't deserve you, he's very sick, and that means untrustworthy also. He's a selfish, two-faced, pig-headed oaf!'

Jean pushed her friend's hand aside and sat upright to say, 'He's a free man, Terese. He can do whatever he pleases. He is one of the Chosen after all.'

'And so are you, Jean. You deserve his absolute devotion and faithfulness, or else he deserves a hard kick in the crotch!'

'I hardly think that would solve much, the situation being as it is. Though I shall keep that in mind for the next time I see his face.'

Prince Lune leaned over towards her, standing to her left as he said, 'Perhaps Lord Adem should be thinking more of his duty and less with his—'

'Exactly,' Jean said, cutting the Prince off before he finished the sentence.

Less with his joystick! Jean thought to herself; which brought amusement from Tanriel through the kigare, as well as some confusion about the term used, which stilled Jean's rage. It was a terrible wound he'd opened up inside of her. She thought she might never recover from the humiliation of it all!

'I'm fine,' she said, standing with a hand from Terese. 'He deserves what happiness he can find in this world, before he meets his fate. I will not stand in the way of his true desires.'

'You're sounding wiser by the minute,' Terese said, with a nervous grin. 'Let's get some hot tea and sit and have a good bitch session about that two-timing back-stabber!' Jean's eyebrows rose at how much Terese was starting to sound like a modern-day woman from Earth, concerned her influence may be less than favourable on the Hero of Will.

'I'd prefer a stiff drink right about now,' Jean said, then she linked arms with Prince Lune as she asked, 'Would you be so kind as to break open a bottle of the oldest and most potent spirits you have available?'

'I think I know what you're after,' Lune replied. 'Shall we all retire to my chambers?'

'That sounds a delightful idea, Prince Lune. Lead the way.' She strolled off still linked with Lune on one arm, and Hayley moved in beside her, to take her arm on the right side, which was just in time, because Jean felt another overwhelming desire to pass out. The pain was unbearable, but she wore it deep down with a tight grin, Terese groaning like a wounded wolf as she fell into line behind them.

'I'm not one to give advice on men, I'll admit that,' Terese began. 'But if you let a man chase after every young woman he sees, soon you'll find that trying to control him is like trying to stop a dog from salivating in a room full of lamb cutlets.' Jean tsked, then in frustration asked Tanriel: Who is the little troll?

The Ruhalden Princess; was Tanriel's reply through the kigare, soft as wind chimes. This time it was Jean's turn to start groaning, though on the inside she was howling!

***

'You have to make a decision, Adem!' Carl shouted across the table, where his friend sat in a large cushioned armchair. Carl stood with arms crossed over his chest, tapping one foot in irritation at Adem's indecisiveness. 'I'm certain Jean would know of your betrayal by now, she probably knew the entire time you were doing it!'

'She is well aware, I assure you,' Adem said, with a perplexed frown.

'King Erroll wants results, Adem! He wants you to marry his daughter! What do you plan to do about it?'

'I can't marry her,' Adem said, after a deep sigh.

'If you were any other man, King Erroll would have you executed!'

'I love Jean, I just...I think I love Isabelle too.'

'Perfect!' Carl shouted. 'That's just bloody perfect! I suppose you'll be hoping for two marriages?'

'Don't be absurd.'

'Well what then? Damn it, Adem, we're in the fight of our lives and you're thinking like a lovesick teenager! I don't know what to do with you! You seem to have lost all scope of the bigger picture! Think how much is at stake! Make a decision!'

'Have you accepted your evening Healing-Magic, Carl?'

'Make a decision, Adem!' His words gave Carl pause for thought however, this was the most enraged he'd been since, well, since...ever! Was Jinn-Magic making his emotions run wild until his temper began to slip? Much like it always did to Adem? He took three deep breaths, said a silent prayer, and asked God to give him focus and peace of mind. It did not work, however. He was pushed beyond an easy return to any state of calm.

'How could you do this, Adem? How could you do this to Jean? She'll be heartbroken! It jeopardises her emotional state. You're just plain bloody selfish!

'I warn you, Adem, if you continue this affair with Isabelle, I'll be forced to move forward with a wedding ceremony. That will crush Jean. But I'm under extreme pressure from the Ruhalden King! An Immortal King! End it, Adem. See that it's done tonight.' He was reaching a state of calm, though his tone promised further wrath if his words were not followed to the letter.

'I'll talk with Isabelle,' Adem said. 'I'll try to explain things to her in a way she can understand.'

'I don't understand you, Adem, nor can anyone else lately.' Carl was calm now. He was in control of his senses. 'I don't know if you've noticed, but it's been an unnaturally long summer. We are well into autumn and the heat is still drying the land to dust. There has been little rainfall. The first snows should be arriving soon, but most days it feels like we're baking in an oven. Something is very wrong. God only knows the truth of Fendinn's designs.'

'And the Dark Angels,' Adem retorted.

'Yes, well, if things don't improve, there will be no harvest next year. Crops will fail; our food supply will run out. People whisper of this in the city. I keep my ears open for such things. My Battle Angels also assure me this thing is not natural. We have to find a solution, or the people will die, Adem, everyone will die.'

'We'll take care of Tairark; then we'll go in search of the Heart of Odin.'

'Fine, that's the plan then. We'll march into the lion's den, put our head in its mouth, and see what we come up with?'

'It's not a perfect plan, I'll admit that, but what other choice do we have? Do you want to abandon this mission?'

'No, Adem, I want you to make a decision. Sort this thing out with Isabelle, and let's get going. We also need to start thinking of how we're going to defeat Jinn-Fendinn.'

'I'm working on that too,' Adem said, looking proud now, his back straight and his face calm. 'Give me a moment to speak to Isabelle...then we'll leave tonight.'

'Finally, the great hero arises. I'll leave you alone to brood on it, like you always do.' With that Carl turned and strode from the room, deciding not to slam the door when he left, although he felt the urge.

***

Adem decided not to brood, however. He watched his friend leave, then picked himself up and made his way for the door. He wasn't sure how he would explain things to Isabelle, though he hoped to make a clean break.

What troubled him most were Carl's words about the weather. He had no clues what was causing it, or how to reverse the effects. It was the plain truth however, if they did not find a way to fix that problem soon, all of his plans would fall into ruin.

His sense of Jean was that she was becoming intoxicated, her mood somewhat appeased, and he sensed flirtatiousness in her too, aimed at Prince Lune no doubt.

He'd learnt to detect those emotions in her, and he guessed the Prince to be the most likely candidate for her to aim her affections. He was strikingly handsome after all, soft-toned and kind-hearted; a male version of his mother. Adem couldn't let jealousy cloud his judgement, Lune had to ascend to the Nordic throne. Plans into action, time running short, a rash decision that could upset the fate of the world ... he stumbled on with a deep sigh.

When he arrived at Isabelle's room, the door was ajar; he knocked, and then peered in when she called for him to, 'Enter!'

'I have to go, Isabelle,' he said that while standing halfway through the doorway and saw her displeasure light up in her eyes. He stepped all the way into the room and slowly walked to stand beside her. She lay face down on her pink silk bed sheets, the aqua woollen covers thrown back as if she'd been kicking them in a tantrum.

'So, you're just going to leave me? When will you be back?'

He wanted to tell her he wasn't coming back, he wanted to tell her he loved Jean more than his heart could take, but the words froze on his lips as she stared up at him with a quivering raised black eyebrow.

'I'm not sure when I'll be able to return, but when I do, we can talk about our situation some more, OK?'

'I'll be waiting for you, Adem Highlander,' she spoke with deep emotion, as if holding back a floodgate of tears.

'I'll keep you in my heart, Little Sparrow.' He leant over to kiss her forehead, brushing the first tear from her cheek. The weight in his heart felt like a barrel of lead as he crossed that red tiled floor, then he fuelled his rage with one lingering thought ... He was going to execute Tairark Vampire-King!

Chapter 13

The Vampire Coven

Talegon and Kelflax crouched low, in the thick brown leaves that were dry, and pock marked, a mixture of the diseased plant life in the Southlands, combined with the unnatural scorching heat waves. Talegon gripped a large golden axe, it glowed dull crimson in the night as he was close to the crypt of Tairark and his vampire coven.

Talegon and Kelflax had made their way south to meet with Adem Highlander's army during the weeks they'd stationed at Calicos. It was pivotal to their peace of mind that they be close to King Orion at all times, though he was their King no longer. They had served as his personal guard for decades before Jean Fairsythe took away his crown.

They were fraught with panic when Orion and Elmira left with Adem Highlander via their teleport capacity. It had set them back a way, but they were determined to catch up with Orion no matter the cost. Jean Fairsythe had not taken away their right to serve as Orion and Elmira's protectors, which gave Talegon some peace of mind and less anger towards the woman for her harsh verdict.

Adem's teleport technique had transported Talegon and Kelflax from nearly five miles north, to this location. Their army had marched for two weeks to cross the mountains and enter the Southlands, moving in smaller groups with a rallying point three miles north of these ruins.

They lay crouched at the edge of a plateau, looking over a ravine between them and the layers of grey stone slabs that formed the pyramid style fortifications of Morgrahl Kordahn. It was an ancient city, formed during the Age of Rebirth, when these lands were claimed by ancient Immortal Kings of the original twelve clans.

This was the city of King Tan, who was now one of the Heroes of Will, chained to the Shield of Fire and the Harp of Odin, as was his wife, Queen Elsalos. Talegon remembered seeing their faces during the battle at Nordhel when the Souljhin attacked.

Tan with flowing white hair and a beard of white flame, his eyes like dark seeds with a hooked nose like a hawk's beak. Elsalos with hair of golden flame wielded an emerald bow that fired Lukrorian Arrows of green light. She was perhaps the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, even as a spectre of shadow and light, her eyes large blue pools that crackled with contained lightning. That had been in the hallways surrounding the library where the main battle took place. If his King had fallen due to his absence that night, Talegon would have fallen on his own sword as penance.

He looked over to his friend, who had two blades crossed over his shoulders, as well as his blue wooden bow. Talegon's bow was green wood with a metallic shine, and his bow case also glistened as if it was wet metal. They wore brightly coloured armour, Talegon's crimson and Kelflax's dark blue.

Kelflax raised two fingers; then pointed to the tops of the pyramid slabs, where two men walked with an agile grace, both in dark leather jerkins and brown leathers, a bow on each of their shoulders and arrows at their waist belts. They were vampires by the look of them, though werewolves could remain unaltered on nights when the moon wasn't full—like tonight—which would make them more dangerous adversaries.

There were more men on the lower slabs, patrolling the many rectangular dark doorways that lined the walls of the tomb. Those were less of a threat however, as they would not spot Talegon and Kelflax as easily.

Despite this fact, the guards appeared unusually casual, even arrogant, though Talegon was less experienced with vampires and werewolves. Perhaps they saw no reason to fear the scattered peoples of these lands, who were unlikely to ever attempt an uprising against their dark masters. The other possibility irked Talegon to a degree however, the thought that they might be walking into a deadly trap—

Footsteps ... close by, behind him! They shared a glance of panic then cautiously turned and crept towards the nearest thicket of bushes, without rustling a single leaf. They made no sound as their bodies turned on the stone slab without rising more than a half foot.

Sure enough, prowling through the bushes was a beast of black flesh, massive hands like elongated bear claws, a massive head and maw of a thick-skulled wolf without fur. It raised its head, sniffing at the air, moving cautiously through the bushes as it went, as if to avoid making more noise. It was onto them!

Still they crouched, Talegon raising his golden axe slightly, as Kelflax eased his bow from his back and raised an arrow to notch to the string. Lukrorian Arrows would have suited much better for taking down such a beast, though the light may draw more attention. Perhaps in this case Carl Wilder's decree had saved them from making a terrible mistake.

His fears were confirmed when another black bulk marched out of a thicket further ahead than the first one, then two more, each one sniffing the air like a faithful hound on the hunt.

We have to get out of here! Kelflax signalled to Talegon in hand language. Talegon returned the signal for, Hornet in the Beehive. His friend looked like Talegon had just kicked him in the guts; the signal meant they were going to fight this one out, on Talegon's next signal. The noise could draw the entire coven onto them, but they could not move with enough stealth to avoid being heard, regardless of how keenly these creatures could detect a human scent, and Talegon was certain they were seconds away from closing in on them.

***

Tairark heard his pets howling in the night to the south of his lair. He waited with patience for his plan to take fruition. All was happening according to the High-Jinn's commands. He'd set the bait, that feeble wife of Wil Martyr would make a pretty vampire bride, though the White Snow Fox had been the real target in that attack. That annoyance of a Hero of Will, Terese Sapphire-Sword, was too crafty for that part to succeed, however.

The Highlander boy was close. He could sense his presence, also to the south, while his forces waited several miles north of the ruins. Kelveroth had kept his knowledge of this endeavour a secret from Tairark, hoping to eliminate some competition. Still, he was his Brother, and Tairark wouldn't let a lack of communication interfere in their cause to eliminate mankind.

The heating of the planet had made difficulties for his servants however, though they were all just tools for the High-Jinn, tools that were expendable when his greater plans took shape. The blazing sunlight had kept his vampire coven under lockdown during the daylight hours, despite the cloud cover across the Southlands that usually allowed vampires to walk in daylight.

That left his Nightwalkers unsuitably equipped for this oncoming attack, as they had not fed since the previous night, and their skills and abilities would be lacking their full potential. Despite this fact he'd allowed the entire coven to take a human victim the previous night, close to five thousand villagers would die and be reborn to the Shadow as a result. His minions did not know this, but the reason he'd allowed the feeding was so that they would replenish his coven with fresh Nightwalkers, as he feared very few would survive this battle. Another expendable set of tools thrown aside in wake of the High-Jinn's insufferable plotting. Still, the pieces fell into place, and now he would wait, as the chickens tried to infiltrate the doghouse.

***

Adem stood on the heights, looking over the valley where Talegon and Kelflax had been scouting. He'd followed them here, after his army arrived three miles north of the ruins. Orion and Tobin stood to either side of him, their wives insisted on being with them at all times also and stood to either side of the men.

Large dark shapes bounded through the mist, their bloodcurdling howls filling the night sky. Talegon and Kelflax were seen running with incredible speed, leading the werewolves away from the ruins heading south-west. 'The alarm has been raised!' he whispered urgently to his companions. 'The time to strike is now or never!' Adem felt a stab of guilt at the thought of leaving the two Aldebrands to their potential deaths, though this battle would have many casualties on both sides.

'You would leave my bodyguards here to die alone?' Orion asked, aghast.

'If we waste any more time, we could lose the momentum we need to win this! We've already lost the element of surprise, Tairark is probably awake!' He clutched his bow in his right hand as he urgently whispered the name, 'Llew Llaw Gyffes!'

The column of blue flame of his Battle Angel's form rose before them. He began the spell necessary to teleport back to the main forces in a blur of thought—though as he watched the world swirl and twist around him, Orion lurched out of the circle of transport, Elmira gasped and leapt after him before Adem could complete the spell. In a moment of panic, he held onto the mechanism for teleportation, as Tobin and Lydia followed after their friends; running through the night with immortal speed.

Adem couldn't make up his mind; bring the bulk of the army; or stay to save his friends from certain death. They were the rightful rulers of the Nordics and the Torvellen. He loved those four like they were family. He had to stay and fight!

***

Carl waited on horseback, alongside Wil, both in Alit'aren black with breastplates forged of toramor armour. Only Tairark's blade or those of the other Hex-Warlords could dent it. Carl's was crimson red, Wil's black as night. Behind them was close to ten thousand warriors from the Free Lands, those who had joined them before Calicos, and those that met them on the march through the Southlands. They awaited Adem's return to teleport them to the lair.

More time had passed than he expected, when suddenly—a wave of panic from Adem sent through the kigare, followed by Math Mathonwy sending to Carl, Plan B!

Carl glared at Wil, who returned a face of understanding, as Wil cried, 'Eledisren!'

Then Carl shouted, 'Math Mathonwy!'

The two Battle Angels appeared in shimmering light, immediately fanning wings of fire, Dis Pater's golden, Math Mathonwy's crimson. They lifted Carl and Wil into the air, as Carl resonated his voice with Angel-Magic to shout back to his army, 'Plan B! Charge!'

Of course, they had a plan B.

As Carl and Wil flew into the sky, carried on the wings of their Battle Angels, the front cavalry of three thousand or more altherin bred horses began to gallop southward. The remaining ranks were formed of mortal horses, and mostly mortal soldiers, the reserves who would arrive some time behind the front ranks. Carl heard thousands of hooves like a rippling wave of thunder, as he soared through the night sky towards the ruins of the vampire coven.

He was there within moments, the two Battle Angels flying like bolts of lightning! That would have drained their ki'mera reserves to a degree, though nothing near what a Linked teleport of the entire army would have drained. Plan B allowed for their Battle Angels to stay in the fight.

To the south of the ruins, on the heights of the plateau, he sensed Adem wielding Angel-Magic. A bar of liquid blue light cut through the darkness to strike a leaping black shape that burst into flames. More of the beasts surged through the bushes all around Adem. He saw his friend throw a series of punches in a circle all around him, a blast of thick blue flame flying from every fist; striking large black bulks and pushing them back!

Still more approached from all sides! Adem moved in a blur, punching left, then right, two forwards, one behind, blasts of blue flame flying from his fists! The impact wounded each target, though they weren't strong enough to take down a werewolf on the attack.

Set me down, there! Carl sent to Math Mathonwy through the kigare.

There is great danger, Carl Wilder, Math Mathonwy replied. Carl shouted at his Battle Angel, 'If we lose Adem, we lose everything!' Math Mathonwy swooped to land beside Adem, Carl leapt from the shoulders of his Battle Angel, as Wil did the same on the other side of Adem. The three looked at each other with relief as Carl sent to his Battle Angel, Shadow Hounds!

Twelve Shadow Hounds with fangs and claws like liquid steel sprang outwards from their circle, each one pouncing onto a startled werewolf and tearing out his heart.

Part of plan B was to conserve their Battle Angels' ki'mera levels until they faced Tairark, the only reason Adem's Fire Lions had not yet joined the fight. Their Battle Angels had been informed to withhold their strongest attacks, until ordered to unleash a new level of power.

Arawn still hadn't been summoned, but Dis Pater hovered over Wil with his massive golden axe raised to defend, while Math Mathonwy charged forward to decapitate two werewolves with one swipe of his burning red spear. Flame Crows spread forth like dark arrows, flying to punch through werewolf chests as the massive beasts collapsed with a gurgling howl. Dis Pater split the skull of a large dark werewolf, black blood spraying the air. He threw the axe that spun sideways through the forest to decapitate four more before the weapon returned to his grasp like a boomerang.

Dis Pater and Math swung their weapons to unleash sheets of golden and emerald flame, vaporizing dozens more that sprang up out of hiding. It seemed the enemy had planned their arrival for some time. Those beasts inspired pure terror in his soul, their howls the bloodthirsty cry of cursed men, each one capable of either ripping them to shreds or infecting them with their bite. Carl fired blazes through the forest air to strip these beasts down to burning bones. Bodies collapsed into piles of smoking char that glowed like hot coals.

***

Kelflax ran through the forest like water raging downhill, he was one with his environment, one with the sounds and scents of the air, the water, the grass, the animals. The gift of the Aldebrands heightened his senses similarly to the True Flow, though it was a melding of magic from the sky and the earth.

He was attuned to the thumping of the dark beasts in pursuit, there were three of them on his tail, each larger than any bear, taking great strides as they charged; sending chills up his spine with their ferocious howls.

Onwards he ran, leading his quarry like a gazelle pursued by three dark lions. A gazelle with razor sharp fangs ... he spun on his heel to draw and release a single arrow, the shaft soaring to plant itself deep in the skull of the first black beast.

It stumbled, losing its balance as the one behind pushed it aside to continue pursuit. Onwards he ran, like a leaf in a roaring gale, downhill now, he moved even faster than before. He spun to unleash a second arrow that took the closest to him in the chest. Still it gave chase, though it was slowed considerably from the wound.

This was the first stage of Hornet in the Beehive. He was the Hornet! His senses detected that the first werewolf he'd fired the arrow into still gave chase also. Three again! Onwards he ran.

***

Orion's golden blade Tigerclaw whipped through the air in a flurry of slashes and strikes, Shadow Dancer, into Midnight Bloom, hacking at the massive werewolf that lunged at him with its claws, barely deflecting each attack before it infected him with its deadly venom.

The werewolf's bite was what caused the curse however, that could not be healed.

Elmira stood several paces to his left; he'd intercepted the beast before it lunged into her. A bar of liquid blue flame flew from her fingers to turn the creature to a ball of fire, as Orion hacked its head from its shoulders in a spray of dark blood. The next was charging towards him as the first fell, he ran to meet it, the rest were further away, and he had the moment to spare to be separated from his cause to fight, his only cause; his darling wife.

As he slashed downwards above the creature's skull, hacking a large wound through its right eye, another blue bar hit the beast; it exploded in a shower of fire. He could move quickly, but it was faster to wield such a killing spell. He leapt backwards to avoid the spray of blood and flames, the beast collapsing with its head torn to shreds by the impact of the blast.

He moved in a blur of motion to take his wife's hand and they ran on into the night. They too were playing Hornet in the Beehive. They ran onwards seeking out Talegon and Kelflax, the forest floor moving beneath them like a vast flowing river of shadows and light. To their right, Tobin and Lydia moved like an altherin colt and mare, Lydia unleashing balls of blue flame to knock other werewolves off course. Angel-Magic was enhanced tenfold in both women as they held each other in a link. The beasts stumbled like rag dolls caught in a blazing furnace.

***

Adem unleashed a stream of blue fire, stunning a charging werewolf and knocking it off balance as it tumbled to the forest floor. He spun left, punching twice. Two blasts of blue fire flew into another black beast, pushing it backwards as blue flames licked its chest. He spun right, three punches, three wide arcs of fire—orange this time, he was getting tired—thudded into the skull of a larger black beast, sending it flying in a ball of golden flames.

He controlled the four points of north, south, east and west, Carl standing in the north-east gap, Wil in the south-west, Dis Pater and Math Mathonwy standing in the other two defence positions.

Wil unleashed bright golden arrows, stunning the creatures as Shadow Hounds lunged forward to take out each werewolf on that side. There were dozens of them, wave after wave.

It was definitely a trap!

In his mind he couldn't help but curse one man's name. Londrak! Why had he allowed the man to remain with the main forces? He should've kept him close for any signs of communication with the High-Servants. Of course, it may have been Kelveroth who had betrayed him, perhaps even more likely as he was one of the Hex-Warlords.

Left, two punches, walls of fire erupting to scatter the charging creatures.

Right three punches, the earth heaved beneath two werewolves to spray them with a volcano of flames. Or perhaps Tairark had planned this all along. Perhaps he'd targeted Hayley and Jean to incite a vendetta against him in the hearts of Adem and Wil, a simple form of trapping one's prey.

Three punches forward, lightning fell to strike a large black werewolf three times, pummelling it into the earth. What if they had another plan to take out Jean?

Right, one punch, a ball of red flames the size of a boulder flew from his fist to strike a grey skinned beast, the biggest one he'd seen so far! This one would stand head and shoulders higher than the back of a draft horse. The blast stunned the beast, as Math Mathonwy charged to plant his spear in its chest. It stood higher than the eight-feet-tall Battle Angel. The beast roared, clutching the spear and pulling Math Mathonwy towards him to swing its massive claw and send the Battle Angel flying backwards.

Wings of red flame blossomed behind Math to halt him mid-air; he landed and lunged again to slice the creature's head off with a sweeping of the spear. A moment after two Shadow Hounds had bitten down on the beast's muscular grey-furred arms. Dis Pater hacked a werewolf in half—right through the torso—black blood spraying the earth as he swung his golden axe.

Two right punches, two pillars of swirling green fire lanced toward another even bigger grey-furred monster! The pillars smashed into the creature, setting its flesh to flames, as Carl unleashed a bar of red flames from the tip of his spear, the bar was thin, precise. It burnt through the chest of the werewolf; it began to implode.

Three right punches, blue lightning struck the beast, a ball of red flames flew from his fist as the earth erupted to unleash an upward blast of blue flames.

Two more of the giant-sized creatures approaching from the west, Adem shouted, 'Balor!' His third Battle Angel was unleashed from the horn at his waist, a shimmering of blue armour on a white-bearded man with one eye and an eye-patch of pure ruby. A giant wolf of blue flames appeared before him and charged to meet the two werewolves. The spirit wolf's name was Shadowhunter.

Ki'mera flowed to him and his companions from the souls of the dead werewolves, balls of coloured light replenishing their Battle Angels' reserves—where Shadowspawn died there was always ki'mera orbs—

Adem heard a horn to the north! Followed by dozens more! He looked beyond the ruins to see thousands of soldiers, Aldebrands, and Alit'aren riding towards them through the mist. It was the first wave of altherin riders; they would have pushed those horses hard to arrive so fast.

Thank heavens Carl Wilder had come up with a Plan B!

As the thundering of hooves gathered in the air, the sky began to light up with vampires flying from the ruins, enchanted weapons glowing in their grasp.

Two right punches, walls of blue flame launching into a black skinned monster as the Battle Angels began to Link! That feeling alone felt like heaven erupting in his veins with Angel-Magic flowing through him, but something else happened then that made him feel more alive than he had in weeks since the pain of his betrayal. He sensed Jean, she was smiling, she was happy again!

He began to move his fists in all four directions with incredible speed, Angel-Magic gifting enough speed to match even the immortal kin, blazing blue bolts flew from every punch, or small fists of blue flame that appeared around him like a burning cross, each bolt or fist pummelling werewolves stumbling backwards; flesh melted like dark wax. Jean's love inspired new courage and determination, he punched twice in all four directions in a half second, sixteen fists, or bolts, every second, yet his mind was calm, despite the raw foulness on Angel-Magic, that corroded his bones like being dipped in a pool of acid. He roared like a raging Dragon. Carl and Wil joined his cry like a proud Lion and a ferocious Wolf. They would drive this enemy into oblivion or die trying.

***

Jean sat on her bedspread, laughing with joy! Tears streamed down her face, tears of fear, of regret, of loneliness, and pure joy! Adem was fighting a great cause down to the south, deep in the Southlands, fighting the armies of Tairark Vampire-King! She was certain of the location after checking it on the large map that lay sprawled at her feet.

Tanriel had revealed the truth before then, when the fighting began, though she checked the map to be certain it was true. So, he'd gone all that way, not to abandon her, but to avenge her. He still loved her! And she still loved him!

'I can feel him, Terese! I can sense them all, the Sons of Odin, they're fighting for their lives. I have to go to him. I still love him! I forgive him.'

'You've gone completely insane!' Terese shouted in agony. 'I'm your sworn protector. It's too dangerous.' She took Jean's head in her hands and held her like a toy doll needing support, as the tears flowed down both of their cheeks. Hayley was also crying, sitting on a chair against the wall in a blue dress with white flowers, but she was smiling too! They were tears of joy!

Chapter 14

To Gain a Hero

Jothar Kelderath led the charge, towards the vampire ruins of Morgrahl Kordahn. He and his soldiers had made the journey to Calicos on altherin horses, during the time the Sons of Odin waited there to gather an army for this mission.

He was an old man, white of hair, grizzled, tough, like a worn out but sturdy pair of leather boots. But tonight, on this night, he did not feel old, or tired, or run down. He felt like a young Battle Lord leading his men to victory! It had been so long since he'd been that young man; looking back on those years seemed to be another man's lifetime.

His memories were fading of many accounts of his personal history from those days, though he remembered what was important, he remembered being a soldier!

The thunder of altherin hooves rumbled in his ears like a great storm, the earth vibrating, pulsing with every hoof that stamped the soil—

A vampire launched out of the sky, aiming its crimson blade directly for his head, and in that moment, he thought he saw his life flashing before his eyes, those memories of his youth became clear, like clouded water becoming a glistening pool he could see to its depths.

A volley of crossbow bolts punched into the breastplate of the flying abomination, knocking it back as if it had been hit by a storm wind! The creature fell before his horse and was trampled under thousands of pairs of hooves.

Yes! He felt young again! He did not have the ability to read his own future—beyond what plans a Captain General can make for himself, in the approach to the greatest battles he would ever face—though he could now see his past as a grand network of visions, a pattern of the intricate chains of his succession to leadership, to this present day, when he burnt in his heart for one thing, Tairark Vampire-King's head severed from its neck!

'Charge!' he shouted. 'Take no prisoners!' He rode with his silvered sword pointed before him like a lance. Arrows began to launch into the sky from other riders behind him, that struck vampires in mid-flight, the bodies falling as he shouted, 'Glorious!'

They reached the base of the fortifications, as vampires filled the skies, swooping down to attack his men, as they leapt from their horses. Each man carried a series of ropes and pulleys, which, when combined with a large wheel crank, was designed for mass scaling of the walls of the ruins with grappling hooks. The stone slabs weren't more than eight feet high at the most on the higher sections, though the grey stone base slab was closer to fifteen.

The rest of the climb was not going to be that difficult, but with the dangers that lurked above, he'd need to get as many archers and Alit'aren up on those platforms as soon possible. This was a race for supremacy; it was fifty-fifty chances of either side's success.

Kelderath strode through the battlefield like a Lord of War, Aldebrands and soldiers massing around him as a shield, though he paid them no heed. He shouted orders, 'Archers in positions!' Hundreds of Aldebrands and soldiers wielding bows and crossbows lined up along the base of the walls with enough distance from the wall to see the enemy lurking on the platforms above. 'Shoot on sight!'

He did not need to give the order for the scaling of the walls to commence. Dozens of men were already at work throwing the grappling hooks up over the base wall, striving to latch onto any piece of the ruins that would hold support. More followed as the archers and crossbowmen began to unleash arrows to feather vampires and werewolves like pincushions.

He grinned broadly as a large black werewolf collapsed at his feet after falling from the heights, bristling with arrow feathers.

'Get up there! Move it! Get your backs into it! Advance!' he shouted at the top of his lungs. Today was no ordinary day for Jothar Kelderath—today was the day he nearly met his maker at the hands of a Nightwalker—today was the first day of his rebirth! He could now see the battle from any vantage point, foresee possible short falls at the first signs or before then. With his memories now intact—if his men could keep him alive—it was no longer fifty-fifty. It was a certified victory! 'Take no prisoners! Show no mercy! Advance!' he roared like a young lion with the soul of old boots.

***

Adem threw three punches to the right, rivers of white flames flooded from his fingertips, like a lance of light to vaporise a charging werewolf. They were running now, falling back, while pursuing Tobin and Orion and their wives, who were chasing after Talegon and Kelflax. All six immortals had already made a full circle of the landscape on the heights, passing them for a second time when the Sons of Odin had an opening to flee.

They couldn't keep up with the immortals of course—that would be like a tortoise chasing after a fox—so they allowed their Battle Angels to drag them a short distance at a time, almost melding between two places at once they moved with such speed and precision, carrying their bodies a few feet off the ground each time to avoid rocks and logs.

Two punches to the left, two massive fists of lightning surged from his knuckles, surrounding a black werewolf in a neon glow.

Two punches forward, one behind, walls of red flames launching in both directions to blast evil incarnate. He was deep in the Tar'deith now, the True Flow heightened his senses, sounds were clear and resonant, the colours more vibrant than he had ever imagined possible. He heard a bird chirping in the distance, he caught a glimpse of its red feathers as it took flight out the corner of his right eye, red like flame.

He had not gathered a drop of sweat yet either, he was becoming a true Alit'aren.

Two punches left; green lightning tore down from the sky to plummet into the form of another grey-furred beast—its howl washed over his senses like ripples on a pond—though he could not feel fear this deep in the True Flow.

Three punches, pillar of white flames, bolt of lightning, flames erupted from the earth.

Shadowhunter bit down on werewolf skulls to tear them clean off. Hounds moved to pounce on the enemy, shredding through their chests or crunching their jaws around giant black skulls. Flame Crows punched through werewolf chests as dozens of enemies collapsed all around. But there were too many of them. They appeared at every moment, howling with ravenous bloodlust.

***

Kelderath saw a great dark shape launch down onto him from the platform above ... again, he saw his life flashing before his eyes ... every moment from birth to this point in time, as vivid as if looking into a pool of imagery, lucid, transparent ... the werewolf crashed on top of him, knocking him to the ground as he plunged his sword into its throat. The beast grasped his skull with both claws ... he felt incredible neck pain, heard bone shatter and rip, flesh tear, he saw blood spatter.

Then he was on his feet, he was looking down at the rising beast, standing over some mortal on the ground, the man was decapitated. He slashed downwards with his enchanted sword that glowed pale blue white, slicing at the creature's skull. The blade slipped right through the form of the werewolf! It began to stand as he slashed again, and again, but each time his sword passed right through the creature!

He then looked at his hand, pale blue white ... his entire form was blue light! 'What magic is this?' he asked confounded. He shouted to rally his men to his aid, 'To me men! To me! To your Captain General! Take this beast apart!' The men around him kept fighting, as if none could hear his words, then a great cry from one of the soldiers sounded above his own voice, 'Kelderath is down!'

A terrible groan in unison moved through the ranks of fighting soldiers and wielders, as if each and every one of their hearts were being ripped from their chests by Tairark Vampire-King himself!

In their temporary state of despair, the men appeared to move sluggishly, allowing attacks to penetrate they should've easily deflected. One Aldebrand was punched by a black werewolf in that moment, flying through the air and right through Kelderath's very form ... it felt like nothing at all!

He looked down at the body at his feet, the decapitated man ... it was him! He was dead! And in that delayed moment of bewilderment, he suddenly realised that he was dead, but still alive!

He was a ghost!

Never before had he imagined that his mortal flesh would carry an immortal soul, like the immortals and the Great Angels and the Heroes of Will!

But it was true!

He slashed again at the werewolf, then resigned to the fact that he was not a Hero of Will however, much to his disappointment.

'That would be expecting too much, I suppose,' he said to himself, and then gave a hearty chuckle. Boy he felt revived though! His spirit was tingling with energy, a raw power that emanated through his senses. Surprisingly it seemed he was still breathing, though he knew enough to call that thought, 'Ridiculous!' How could he breathe without his lungs in his chest?

Still he felt fabulous, more alive than ever before, which added much to his state of dissatisfaction; that this was in fact the exact opposite of the truth.

He felt he could fly!

He could fly!

He was rising off the ground as the werewolf stalked away. Three crossbow bolts punched into its thick spine, black blood spurting from the wound. He slashed a final time, this time he focused harder, pushing his life force into the blade, and then with a heavy groan like some giant hound, the werewolf collapsed and gave up his precious ki'mera, filling Jothar Kelderath with further energy, darkness and light.

'Perhaps a Hero of Will after all,' he whispered in disbelief.

Crossbow bolts thudded into the beast as it fell, coming from all sides, far too late to do any good for his state of being, however.

His men had let him down.

He continued to rise off the ground, like being drawn as water from a well, not flying in fact, transcending to another realm! He looked up to see the clouds part above as a great light blossomed in the sky. 'White light!' he shouted, glorious everlasting light!

As he began to move faster—peering down a moment at the ruins below with a heavy sigh that he'd missed the end of this battle—he began to think that this was like the Son returning to the Father, like Carl Wilder's hero Jesus Christ. He wondered then, if he might meet the great Teacher and Scholar, Jesus Christ, the Saviour of Earth, when he reached this place of fire in the sky.

'The Son of God!' he whispered emphatically.

For the first moment he could remember in all his lifetime, he was more than satisfied, he was more than pleased, he was content, he was at peace, like Adem Highlander whenever he looked at Jean Fairsythe, that mask of half mad tensions in the Son of Odin melting into absolute bliss. He thought with elation that he should meet his dearly departed wife in Heaven also!

And yes!—he heard her voice calling his name!

Annabelle!

My darling wife!

Jothar smiled broadly, a weight being lifted from his shoulders after a lifetime of toil and struggle ... as he ascended ... into the Light!

***

Tobin's emerald blade moved in a blur of cutting strikes to ward off the hulking beast. He hacked at the neck of the large black-skinned-werewolf, severing its skull from its body in a spray of dark blood. A large hole in its chest was made seconds before by Lydia's bar of blue flames, enhanced in Angel-Magic by the link she held with Elmira. Orion stood a few paces off to his left, golden blade whirling and striking at the dark beast that stood before him.

A bar of white-hot fire flew from Elmira's hands to strike the beast in the skull, and in that moment, Orion hacked off its right claw and drove the blade through the creature's heart. When he withdrew the blade, he flicked it downwards to spatter dark blood onto the forest floor. The werewolf fell backwards with a hollow wail.

The four of them began to run again, each moving faster than any mortal could accomplish, the feet of the Aelfin were always swift. As more of the dark beasts gave chase—loping forwards on all fours—they increased their speed, still searching for Talegon and Kelflax. They'd circled the upper plateau a number of times already, though Orion's two bodyguards continued to evade them. Twice they'd caught sight of the pair running further downhill, though each time Tobin and Orion had been forced to battle with more werewolves and they'd lost sight of the men.

Lydia unleashed bars of liquid-blue light as they sprinted through the forest, Elmira also wielding bars of flame to blast flesh from bones as more of the dark creatures launched themselves from the thick bushes and giant leaves. There were hundreds of the beasts on this upper section, more and more revealing themselves as the chase continued, like reserve soldiers storing their energy while their victims were slowly worn down.

They had to keep running regardless of whether they thought they'd be able rescue Talegon and Kelflax. If they halted for too long, the beasts would surround them, and they would be slaughtered, or bitten and forced to carry the werewolf curse.

***

Adem was picked up by Balor and lifted a few feet off the ground. He travelled in a blur of light, like warping from one point to another. The Battle Angel set him down, Adem punched right twice, towards a charging white werewolf. Blue flames burst from the earth beneath the creature; the ground erupted spraying up boulders. The second punch unleashed a bar of red fire that launched across the ten-feet-gap to strike the beast in the skull. At the same time Carl aimed his spear at the beast's chest, a thin bar of red flames extending from the spear tip to pierce the creature's heart. On impact, the werewolf stumbled on its path, claws dragging in the dirt—it was a big one—then it howled as Carl's red flame began to implode within its flesh, until its chest burst open like a balloon to spray dark blood in all directions.

Wil quickly caught up to defend Adem's south-west corner, carried by Dis Pater who towered ten feet tall in his shadow robes, great golden axe hacking at the skulls of charging black beasts. Wil still wielded his golden bow, unleashing arrows to stun the creatures. Shadow Hounds launched onto the werewolves to tear out their throats.

Balor's giant spirit wolf, Shadowhunter, still prowled close by. He only went after the biggest werewolves that appeared, some standing taller than the wolf of blue flames, and he was ten-feet-tall at shoulder height. Balor guarded Adem's north-west flank, wielding a silver-blue double-edged battle-axe that was larger than Dis Pater's. He hacked at the werewolves who made it close enough, before finishing them off with Crimson Sun, to plant the axe blade deep in the top of their skulls.

Adem was also becoming drained, if he didn't face Tairark soon, he didn't think he would have the strength to stand a chance against the High-Servant. Three punches left, three wide arcs of blue flame flew from his fists to strike the chest of a large black beast, knocking it off balance; fire wreathed its form. Two forward punches, a tower of bright crimson launched from the sky, a river of burning emerald burst from the earth. Balor picked him up by the shoulders and they morphed through the forest. Three punches right, a bolt of silver lightning, wall of emerald fire, crimson blades erupted beneath another large grey beast. The blades split through its hide as the howling creature was blasted into a shower of burning ash.

***

Lydia threw a bar of blue fire at the skull of a charging black werewolf. It approached from the east, the direction she was running, with Talegon and Kelflax visible in the distance. The flames struck the beast, its head exploding in a shower of blue sparks and black blood. It collapsed as she ran past its body like a feather in a storm. Tobin would regret not having a hand in killing that one. If he could deal out the killing blows, his conscience would rest easier. He ran beside her, his form almost a blur, even to her immortal eyes. Everything was blurred in her vision as they ran—the jade sword of her husband, and the golden light of Orion's Tigerclaw, Elmira's bars of flame, the moonlight on the leaves and forest floor—all was a glowing haze.

She distinctly saw Kelflax turn on his heel to unleash two arrows that punched into the skull of a black werewolf. The beast stumbled; then tried to get to its feet, she sent a bar of blue flames to strike the beast in the back of the skull. It collapsed in a spray of blood. Talegon stood with his back to Kelflax, his bow raised to release three arrows that struck the chest of a larger grey-furred monster. The beast faltered for a moment then lunged forwards, Elmira unleashed a bar of crimson; knocking the beast off balance. In a blur of motion Talegon sheathed his bow and drew his golden axe from his belt loop. He charged for the fallen werewolf; bringing the blade down to shatter the creature's breastplate, cleaving into its heart.

Within moments Lydia was at their side, Tobin beside her and Orion and Elmira arriving seconds later. Their blurred forms became solid once more, and immediately Lydia and Elmira began to unleash more bars of liquid flame. The beasts charged in from all sides. Some caused skulls to explode or chests to rip open, though other blasts were less effective, and those beasts still charged towards them despite their bleeding wounds. Kelflax feathered one with arrow shafts through the chest, the creature skidding through the dirt to collapse at his feet.

Talegon moved in a blur to get behind one charging monster, striking down onto its skull with the finishing move of Crimson Sun. Dark blood spattered as the beast collapsed only a few feet from Orion's back. He stood battling a taller monster, his golden blade whipping through the air like a startled viper. Lydia and Elmira were hurling fire as Tobin battled with a stocky black skinned beast—

A howl tore the night air, answered by dozens more.

They're all around us, she thought with the first touch of fear. This was a trap, a cleverly plotted ambush that had now been sprung. Dark bodies stood from the surrounding bushes, dozens of them, with more appearing further behind. Their howls sent chills through her blood, though she struck the closest three with bolts of lightning that tore down out of the sky. Elmira did the same to the east, though more howls were sounding off, as more of the creatures stood to expose the extent of the trap. We are doomed. She threw lightning from her open palms, horizontal bolts that struck each charging beast and scorched the flesh off their bones, one; two, three down. She was certain it wouldn't be enough to save them however—

Shadow Hounds appeared in the mist, charging outwards from their circle to push werewolves to the ground; tearing through chests to devour their innards. Balor appeared to her right side, setting Adem Highlander down in his black coat and armour. Adem began to punch towards the charging werewolves, unleashing bolts of blue lightning and red bars of flame.

Math Mathonwy and Carl Wilder appeared moments after, along with Wil Martyr, carried by Dis Pater on golden wings. The red wings of Math became his crimson spear as Dis Pater's became his golden axe. Balor's spirit wolf, Shadowhunter, charged from the Battle Angel's form to bite down on a large white werewolf's neck as it pushed the beast to the forest floor—

More howls sounded all around; dark and grey-furred beasts sprang up and began to charge. Shadow Hounds split to become two dozen, fuelled by the ki'mera the Sons of Odin had gathered thus far. Flame Crows appeared in small swarms, punching through werewolf chests like black feathered bolts. Others flew higher to swoop down in a thudding ground slam that left their victims broken and bleeding.

Adem shouted, 'Arawn!' A dozen fully grown male lions appeared with golden coats and thick shaggy brown manes. The Lions charged towards the werewolves to overpower them with jaws and claws like razor sharp steel. Arawn appeared as a figure of looming shadows, his sword of red flames slicing a black werewolf in half; then decapitating another. Ki'mera flowed to the Sons of Odin as Adem shouted, 'Llew Llaw Gyffes!'

***

The twelve feet tall figure of blue light with golden scaled armour appeared beside Adem, and in that moment his vision became blurred, his surroundings tilting and swirling as Llew's teleport ability took effect. Adem had decided there was no hope in making a stand here. He would strike at Tairark in his lair while the vampire swarms were distracted.

He could sense Tairark within the ruins, wielding a vast amount of Jinn-Magic, perhaps to draw Adem to him as another part of this trap, though Adem knew the High-Servant would be using that power to slaughter his soldiers that made it inside Morgrahl Kordahn.

Light flared around them; they shifted from the upper plateau to appear within the dark hallways of the tomb. He'd set them down close to Tairark's position, though in the next room according to the map, and red light flared in the doorways beyond. The screams of men and the scent of burnt flesh battered his senses.

When Adem stood on a ledge where he could peer through one of the gothic style windows of carved stone, he looked into the next chamber to see a scene of horrors. Hundreds of soldiers, as well as Aldebrands and Alit'aren, were scattered about the room of twisting staircases. Vampires swooped through the air, biting at necks or tearing open chests with their superior strength.

Above the battle—and his men were fighting for their lives with swords and spears—Tairark hovered as a dark shadow wielding his blade of red fire. Each time the masked figure gestured towards the soldiers and warriors with his right palm facing outwards, red flame launched from his fingers to strike a cluster of men; screaming in agony as flesh melted off their bones.

As the High-Servant raised his hand to gesture again Adem whispered, 'Arawn!' The Battle Angel appeared mid-air to strike at the High-Servant with his crimson blade. Arawn flew on wings of shadow flame, outstretched like a great black eagle. His sword clashed with Tairark's shield in a spray of burning red. Then the High-Servant vanished, as Arawn sent the location to Adem's mind. Adem whispered, 'Llew Llaw Gyffes!'

As his Battle Angel appeared in the dark chamber, Adem immediately began to teleport his party to Tairark's lair. 'Be ready!' he shouted. A flare of blue light landed them in a room shaped like a giant bell with a domed ceiling. Small carved out shrines were littered around the bell-shaped walls, crimson fires burning within like small shrines. Tairark's coffin was a large slab of stone that had a metallic shine with symbols on the surface that glowed bright scarlet. Londrak's map had been accurate about that much at least.

Tairark hovered towards the peak of the dome, locked in a swordfight with Arawn.

Carl shouted, 'Math Mathonwy!' as Wil shouted 'Eledisren!'

The golden armoured figure of Math appeared in the air wielding his spear of red flames, as Dis Pater's shadow form arose, wielding the axe of golden light—

The air around Tairark began to warp, a familiar sign of those doorways through space. Suddenly two more black robed figures floated in the air, on either side of the High-Servant. Adem couldn't make out their signature masks to identify them, though they were certainly two more of the Hex-Warlords! The High-Servants gestured with ruby light flaring in their right palms, fire lanced down towards Adem and his friends—

Light exploded outwards like a red spider-web as the attacks battered against blue, gold and red Shield-Spells, created by the Sons of Odin, Lydia and Elmira, and even some smaller ones by Tobin and Orion, all reacting by instinct to deflect the surprise tactic.

Vampires flew into the cavern from a large gothic doorway. 'Hold them off!' Adem shouted to Wil, who responded by shouting, 'Bran!'

Bran appeared as a nimbus of blue light, charging for the opening to hack vampire bodies into halves; dark blood flowed as skulls and limbs splattered in all directions. Wil fired flame arrows at the doorway, knocking more out of the air; turning flesh to skeletons of burning gold. The three High-Servants still hurled bars of red fire, striking at the Shield-Spells created by Adem and his company. If this continued, their Shield-Magic wouldn't last.

Adem shouted, 'Balor! Llew Llaw Gyffes!' as Carl shouted, 'Angus!'

Angus hovered close to the ground, adding strength to their shields. Balor and Llew soared into the air to do battle with the High-Servants. Flares of light, sparks and colours whirled in the air; hovering shadows and figures of flame. The Battle Angels and their weapons moved in blurring arcs as the High-Servants deflected each attack with swords or shields of red fire. Magic began to surround the Hex-Warlords as a ki'mera halo, Pixie Wardens, Flame Crows and Burning Hawks battered at the enemy shields like a firework's display.

Adem brought lightning bolts from the air to strike at the three High-Servants. Carl raised his spear to unleash streams of thin red fire at the shields of the Hex-Warlords. Aqua and crimson bolts surrounded the ki'mera swarm like crushing claws of flame, and for a moment, Adem thought their plan might succeed.

Vampires began to fill the chamber, drawing the attacks of Adem and Carl away from their main target. Claws of fire reached for flying men to vaporize their forms, ashes and bone-dust floated like glowing crystal. Hawks, Crows and Pixies broke away from the High-Servants to punch through vampire chests in bright flares; blood sealed into the wounds gaping like cannon holes. Skulls exploded on impact, limbs falling as torn debris. They were making of mess of them, but it would only take one vampire bite to obliterate the strength of this united force. If any of his companions were to fall victim, he would never forgive himself.

Chapter 15

To Escape Defeat

Jean sat alone in her room. Hayley and Terese had left her to think on her feelings for Adem, in light of his bravery revealed through the kigare. She was still mad at him, though that anger melted away when she sensed the passion with which he fought, facing creatures that inspired a deep fear in his heart. However, that fear was barely detectable as he was so focused on his task. She was considering what their next meeting might entail, when she heard a knock at the door, followed by the sweet call of Verielle, asking, 'May I enter, Jean Fairsythe?' Her door was always guarded, though the guards knew to allow Verielle to enter whenever she wished.

'Enter, please, Verielle,' Jean replied. She wiped fresh tears from her cheeks. The golden-haired woman entered the room, gliding across the tiled floor in a ruby coloured silk gown, with a low cut, exposing ample bosom. No jewellery adorned her this evening, though she carried a small silver box, that she held open, when she sat beside Jean on the bed sheets.

'This is a gift of friendship, Jean. It means we shall always be connected. Will you accept?'

***

Adem felt his Battle Angels tiring from exertion, soon their ki'mera reserves would be depleted. The battle with the werewolves had drained them more than they'd planned for. Alit'aren and Aldebrands began to pour into the chamber through the doorway that Wil and Bran still guarded. Londrak was amongst them, his face slick with sweat. He wore black with blue armour, his sword glowing aqua. 'Kelderath is down!' Londrak shouted.

Adem, Carl and Wil groaned in unison. This was the worst possible eventuality so far. They'd lost their Captain General, and with him their hope of victory was washed aside. That explained why the men seemed to be fighting desperately, without discipline, no orderly plan of attack to drive their focus. Soon this battle would become a slaughterhouse; they would have to sound the retreat.

Arawn sent to Adem; I must rest, Son of Odin. Then, as his Battle Angel returned to Adem's sword in a flare of red light, Tairark was unopposed for a moment, and his laughter filled the cavern in a deep booming echo before he threw his sword. The burning blade pierced Londrak's toramor armour to skewer him. The man fell, and as Adem ran to his side he heard Tairark shout, 'You have served your purpose, puppet!' Adem was torn with outrage, Londrak had tricked them! But perhaps he'd been manipulated with powers of the mind; the term puppet gave him pause for thought. Londrak heaved for breath as dark veins began to creep across his face.

For the first time, Adem thought he was seeing the real mind of the man, as if a fog had lifted from his eyes, to reveal the gaze of a warrior, without fear or thoughts of betrayal. Londrak extended his right hand, and Adem took it, to lean in close to the man as he whispered, 'Forgive me. Save my wife.' He coughed up a thick spurt of blood, then his eyes became glazed and his breathing ended.

This had occurred in brief moments that the Shield-Spells were maintained by Adem's companions. The Battle Angels had distracted the three High-Servants, as Tairark fought with fists of flame to deflect Balor's glowing blue axe blades.

His wife! Adem thought in terror. Oh, God, Jean! Oh, no!

***

Jean was overwhelmed with appreciation at the gesture; she smiled warmly as she picked up the golden bracelet and fastened it to her wrist. It was the shape of a slender dragon with a small ruby for the eye. She held it up to the lantern light to admire the shine. 'It's lovely, Verielle. I shall cherish it always.' Verielle smiled, though for the first time she could remember, Jean saw mischief behind those blue eyes, the look of a calculating criminal. Caution struck Jean, then a surge of panic!

She began to feel drowsy, like she hadn't slept in a month, and the strain of that lack of rest had built in her soul till she felt that she might sleep for eternity.

Why had she accepted the gift without sensing for enchantments first?

Had this woman put her under some kind of spell, to make her easy to manipulate? Yes! Suddenly, Jean was certain that was exactly why she'd learnt to trust this woman so much during their time together. 'Who are you?' Jean asked, though her voice came as a slow drawl. Her vision became blurred, she tried to reach for Angel-Magic, but it slipped from her grasp. She fell to the floor, everything became dark.

***

Adem shouted, 'Retreat!' They moved backwards through the chambers of Morgrahl Kordahn. 'Fall back! Sound the retreat!' His voice was enhanced by Angel-Magic, and they'd teleported from Tairark's chamber to the rooms where most of the soldiers still fought. They stood now in a large rectangular chamber, lined with coffins that lay open, hundreds of them, and vampires clung to the walls and ceiling, fangs bared with jet-black eyes.

Tobin and Orion protected their wives. The Ael Tarael unleashed bars of blue flame that struck vampires to create explosions of flesh and hot blood. Adem wielded his sword; sending sheets of teron through the blade. Lightning launched from the sword; setting multiple targets alight. Vampires were burnt to dark husks that pulsed with glowing bolts.

Carl held his spear like a rifle, shooting scarlet beams that burnt holes through the chests and skulls of his enemies, rupturing flesh; they fell as skeletons of flame. Wil continued to use his bow; blasting vampire flesh into golden pillars of ash. Adem hoped that Wil now realised he would never have survived this if he'd made the attempt on his own. To escape defeat, they'd need to make a hasty exit.

What troubled Adem more was his sense of Jean, she'd become anxious, panic was more the word. Then, she'd apparently passed out, fainted he first thought, though now he sensed she'd gone into a deep sleep. The sleep wasn't normal. Something had happened to her. I have to get to her!

Tairark and the other High-Servants appeared; hovering in the air after space shimmered and warped. They struck at Adem and his friends with garnet lightning, striking their Shield-Magic that could barely deflect the attacks. His one hope lay in the fact that they'd also timed the attack for just such eventualities. The sun was about to rise.

***

Terese slapped Jean's face, harder than the first time. 'Wake up, Jean! Wake up!' Her state of panic was becoming overwhelming. Hayley had rushed to find an Ael Tarael to assess the damage. Terese knew there was foul play involved here. When she'd left Jean alone only a half hour before, she was fine! Now her skin was deathly pale, her heartbeat slow, and most disturbing was the fact that she could not be roused from this deep sleep!

She had sent guards to arrest Elviara, and that viper Verielle! The guards at Jean's door had informed her they'd allowed Verielle to enter, then moments after the woman left, they'd peered in the room to find Jean on the floor! She was grateful for one thing; Jean was not harmed in any other way than this apparent sleeping spell. The bracelet had been removed with precise care, to avoid touching the metal that was most likely dipped in some kind of poison. It lay beside Terese as she knelt beside the bed, holding Jean now in a tight embrace. 'I'm sorry, Jean. I'm so sorry,' she began to sob with grief; then her rage began to boil.

Curse those treacherous witches!

The fact that Jean had been kept alive suggested this was a trap aimed at Adem. This would draw him back to her as soon as he was able. That gave her some hope, there had to be a cure. That would lead Adem right into the trap that was set by whoever Verielle really was. Well, if that was the case, Adem would march right into that trap and walk right out again with the necessary cure. If not, she would cut him in half!

***

Adem carved a path through the masses of vampires that tried to block his escape. With his blade he unleashed walls of blue flame; left hand hurling blue lightning to blast holes through their chests and skulls. Burning bodies collapsed around him, as he and his friends formed an escape route. Underground, the structure was a myriad of stone chambers with a maze of stairways and infinite doorways, leading off to more caves for coffins. The vampires were becoming thick as flies in the shade on a hot summer day, as the rising sun was forcing them back within the structure. Soldiers, Aldebrands, and Alit'aren still charged through the outer doorways to aid them in the battle, but Adem urged them to escape, shouting; 'Retreat! Sound the retreat!'

Every so often Tairark and the other two High-Servants would appear in a warp of air, to cast lightning at Adem and his companions. A number of times Adem, Carl and Wil had linked to try to overpower their attacks, and they'd hammered the High-Servants with Elemental Magic, though the Shield-Spells of the Hex-Warlords always prevailed before they made a swift exit.

Adem was still linked with Carl and Wil now, Angel-Magic filling him with excruciating amounts of Odin's Light, with the Shadow corrupting that source like maggots in his flesh. He punched towards five vampires armed with enchanted weapons, flesh burst into a scarlet conflagration, collapsing as they screamed. He gripped the sword hilt with two hands and swept the blade horizontal before him; blazing aqua fanned out in sheets, reducing two-dozen Nightwalkers to burning bones and glowing ashes.

Jean was still unconscious, her dreams tormented, as if she was touched by the Shadow. Betrayal! It had to be the work of Elviara! He would have vengeance for this treachery, though the memory of Londrak's dying wish made him consider his methods with some sympathy. Those two were seemingly just pawns in a much more complex scheme.

Still, if that woman was responsible in any way, and Jean did not survive this, he would become the sword of justice!

***

'It is an evil spell,' Lauren said, in a disgusted tone. 'It is an enchantment that coats the object in a kind of poison, though it is not of this world.'

'Then how do we cure her?' Terese snapped.

'There is only one place where a cure can be found,' Lauren said. 'They are the Stairs of Odin. To visit that place is dangerous to say the least.'

'We need the cure, woman!' Terese shouted. 'Get to the point!'

'The Leaf Aldebrands reside there. They will have the cure. Though there are rules. Only three may enter, and the Stairs of Odin have not been seen for centuries. The last three to enter never returned. That is often the case.'

'That would be the trap, then.' Terese said. 'Whoever Verielle really is, or whoever she is working for, will be waiting within that world to try to destroy Adem, Carl and Wil. I don't like it, but Jean's life is at stake! They will have to try!'

She then sent orders for messengers to head south to summon the Sons of Odin back to the Borderlands. It was a pointless exercise, Adem would know of this through his sense of Jean, as well as messages sent from Tanriel to Adem's Battle Angels. He would surely arrive as soon as he could assure the safety of his forces, via this teleport capacity Tanriel had mentioned to Jean. Well, Terese would be waiting for him.

***

The sun was rising! It seemed wiser to attack during the daylight in the original plan. The new tactic had been to enter at night, slaughter as many vampires possible, then wait for the rising sun to aid their escape.

Werewolves changed back to human form with the rising sun, and they were weakened at this time due to the transformation. Along the grey stone slabs of the structure, mortal and immortal warriors slew a path through the chaos; half naked men fleeing in terror. Their memories of the night before would be blurred—a part of the werewolf curse— which added to their disoriented attempts to defend the ruins. Some picked up bows or swords to fight back, but for the most part it was becoming a victorious escape for Adem's forces. They'd greatly depleted Tairark's vampire stock and must have slain nearly a hundred werewolves during the entire battle. It was a victory, but they'd been lured into this trap from the day they set out on the mission.

He feared Jean's plight was another design of the High-Servants. Arawn had explained that Tanriel knew of a cure for Jean, it focused on finding the Stairs of Odin. So, Adem had found his just cause. To save Jean was the ultimate cause he could ever commit to, his concern for her now burnt through his senses like a rising tide of lava. He would need to accept Healing-Magic from Lydia as soon as they found a chance to rest the horses. That would depend on whether Tairark decided to pursue. The High-Servants would also be drained from the fighting, and Adem's Battle Angels all had a chance to recover. They'd obtained enough ki'mera in the battle to form a considerable defence in further attacks, though he prayed that the High-Servants would retire to lick their wounds.

Hundreds of warriors were making their way down the walls of the structure on their crank and pulley ropes secured by grappling hooks. Adem and his companions remained on the lowest wall until the last defenders had gathered, and then he teleported those last sixty or more men, plus his companions to the horses below. There would be plenty of horses left behind, though those that were able grasped the reins of two or three more to lead them to safety. They'd suffered heavy casualties in this fight, nearly half their forces were depleted, mostly the first wave of riders that arrived on altherin horses. The second wave had mostly been occupied with defending the walls, with archers and men scaling the walls to battle with werewolves, as well as the hundreds of vampires that launched down from the night sky.

In a way it had been a defeat for both sides. It had been a bold move to try to attack Tairark in his lair. In hindsight he should have realised he was leading so many to their deaths. He tried to tell himself it was a necessary sacrifice, though his chest ached from the pain of guilt and sorrow. What had they really accomplished? He asked himself this as they mounted and began to gallop north.

Bodies of men bitten by vampires—or the larger more savage and infectious bites of werewolves—lay strewn along the fields as they made their escape. There were hundreds of them, and more within the ruins. So many that he realised Tairark's forces would recover in three days, when the curse took over these unfortunate souls. The sun was a bright golden ball above the horizon now, its warmth unnatural for early winter, the sky blood red. They would need to learn the source of this plague on the weather soon, or the entire world would start to cook in their own skins.

***

Elviara screamed and wailed, 'I don't know the answer!'

'You say you've known Verielle since your Seidr days?' Terese asked. 'And yet you don't know her true identity or who she answers to?'

'There are ... restrictions!' That last word seemed a struggle for her, as if she had trouble explaining the truth. Some power over her mind. She assumed this Verielle had used similar spells on Jean's mind, hiding her ability to wield Angel-Magic at the same time. It suggested she was someone very powerful, someone high up in the Shadow's chain of command. 'Was your husband working under Verielle also?'

'He ... answers ... to another,' Elviara croaked in the same excruciating way, as if the words gave her physical pain. 'We ... cannot share ... secrets!'

That made sense to Terese, the Shadow made efforts to conceal their tools from any who might suspect, so it was likely Londrak and Elviara were controlled by two separate puppet masters. The High-Servants were likely at the head of this control, though Verielle was most likely one of the Hex-Keepers who served under them, mortals who had joined the Shadow in sacrifice of their souls. That meant the woman had also worn a disguise of the flesh, and still no Ael Tarael had sensed her ability to wield Angel-Magic. It had to be one of those women, Fearen, Calliestra, Nodomi, she reeled the list of names off in her mind.

The woman had fled the castle moments after she left Jean's room. No one saw her leave the castle and no guards reported seeing her leave the city. If she were a smaller pawn in the game, it meant she might still be hiding in the city somewhere, after leaving the castle in another disguise. Though Terese was certain the woman was a Dark General, which meant she'd probably been able to teleport by means similar to the High-Servants.

'I want to know about the trap!' Terese commanded. 'The Stairs of Odin; that is where they plan to strike, yes?'

'I don't know!' Elviara wailed. 'My information is very limited.' Tears stained the woman's cheeks, her eyes red and puffy. She looked like a lost kitten under Terese's glare.

'You're nothing more than a feeble puppet then,' Terese said. 'Still, further interrogation should gain us some advantage. Lock her in chains!' she shouted to the guards in red coats who stood beside the woman. 'See if a few days in the dungeons will loosen her tongue!'

Chapter 16

Odin Quest

Adem stood over Jean as she lay sleeping. She lay on the sheets, as the heat would have made her slumber less comfortable. He brushed a hand over her brow, as tension built on his own. Why had he left her? It was his fault!

Terese stood nearby tapping her foot with arms crossed under her breasts. Carl, Wil and Hayley stood by the bed also, after Carl had performed the Seeking to attempt to discover a cure for her illness. Her skin was so pale! She looked close to death! Though her breathing was steady, that settled his nerves to a degree. He sensed her troubled dreams; it was as if every moment she slept was an ongoing nightmare.

They'd teleported to Korhad the moment they crossed the southern divide and entered the Free Lands, leaving his army to travel to Calicos without further protection. The High-Servants hadn't appeared again, once they started to cross through the mountain paths—which was fortunate, as they would have made a nasty mess of his forces while squeezing through such narrow passes.

Tobin, Orion, Lydia and Elmira were also brought to Korhad—they also stood silently in the large bedchamber, along with Arig Flame-Bow. The former ghost had suffered some minor wounds as a result of werewolf scratches; fortunately, it was only their bite that could not be healed. Lydia had seen to that Healing once they were within the mountain pass. And just in time too, Arig had been pale and weary enough to fall out of the saddle. Other men died of similar wounds before they made it to safety. So many lives lost.

But his concern for Jean overwhelmed that grief, a surging rage was building inside of him. He also felt despair, and a great pain at the potential loss of the love of his life.

'You know what must be done!' Terese snapped. 'I don't care if you die trying, Adem Highlander, you'll find Odin's Stairs and bring me that cure!' Adem sighed and bowed his head, and then he turned to face the woman with watery vision. A moment later he steeled his nerves, straightened his spine with shoulders back.

'Yes, I suppose you're right, Terese,' he said. 'We must leave immediately,' he told his companions, and they turned and began to exit the room.

'You're not going without me this time, husband!' Hayley said in a warning tone.

'If you wish it, my love,' Wil replied, after a deep sigh. 'I will not try to stop you.'

'I do this for Jean,' Hayley replied. 'I will help you find the cure.'

'You shall have to stand under heavy guard while we enter the portal,' Wil said, as if realising this for the first time. 'Arig, Terese, you are chosen for this task.'

'I can't leave Jean unguarded!' Terese shouted in outrage.

'Very well,' Wil said. 'I'll need a dozen Ael Tarael and twice as many Aldebrands to watch her while I'm away.'

'You have my word, Wil Martyr,' Arig said.

'So then, go!' Terese demanded, her temper simply fuming.

***

Carl sat in the blue leather saddle of his brown altherin colt, his spear of red gold retracted and hanging in his belt loop, with his crimson bow hanging in its case over his back. He wore crimson toramor armour, black coat and trousers with brown leather boots. Adem and Wil were dressed similarly; Wil in his golden breastplate and Adem's was dark blue. Adem rode his black altherin stallion and Wil rode the brown colt he'd adopted when they first arrived in Kismeria. The horses they rode in the Southlands were left with the army that headed for Calicos, and Carl preferred this horse to any other. They shared a bond, since the horse had first rescued him from the East Lands.

Orion and Tobin sat their dark mounts with their wives at their side on white mares. The two Alit'aren Aldebrands wore dark coats and trousers, brown boots and black armour, Orion's breastplate embossed with golden tigers, Tobin's with crimson lions. Lydia and Elmira both wore pale blue silk dresses cut for riding, Lydia in a soft white woollen cloak, Elmira's dark blue.

They were assembled on the fields surrounding the Borderland kingdom, the grass brown and yellow from the drying heat. Few flowers were visible, even the weeds seemed to be waning.

Surrounding them were a thousand Aldebrands, most of them from Prince Lune's forces, and the Prince also rode beside his mother in a deep green coat and emerald armour. Ten thousand soldiers surrounded that inner circle, along with one hundred Ael Tarael in bright silks and colourful cloaks, and two hundred Alit'aren in dark coats and trousers or the ghoda'sidhe. It was a small force for the Borderlands. If they were attacked by a horde of demons passing through the mountains, they would be hard pressed to defend. But their armies were becoming divided, spread across the Free Lands, and Korhad needed to retain a suitable guard, made up of more than double the forces gathered on the fields.

They moved at a slow trot, to keep the horses fresh, the front lines were heavy cavalry for making a charge, with lances tipped with two feet of steel. Behind them were light cavalry. They were there for making second sweeps through the charge to avoid being surrounded by a larger force. With the death of Kelderath, Carl took the responsibility to lead. His knowledge of war was becoming legendary amongst the soldiers and other warriors. He would've preferred to keep that a secret, though if you had gifts, you should use them.

He glanced sideways to regard Adem's expression; he looked tense, his brow furrowed, and his face slightly flushed as if his anger was building. Adem would need to learn to control that temper if he wished to remain sane. Rage was fuel for his illness, finding a state of calm was the way to cleanse it.

It seemed most likely that they marched right into another trap, though Jean's life was at stake. Jean was the bait, and they were being reeled in like trout on a hook. Well, he would be ready this time. He knew many things that could aid him against another attack, even if it were only Adem, Wil and him, to stand alone against such foes.

Only three may enter ... yes, there had to be a trap waiting for them on the other side of that portal. Though, the Heart of Odin also lay within that alternate world, enterable only via the Stairs of Odin. If they could obtain this Heart, before the enemy gained too much of an advantage, the tables could turn in his favour.

After an hour of slow moving they headed northeast, moving towards the great mountain ranges of the Green Border. The massive peaks began to block out the sky as they moved further eastward. The mountains had some forestry on this side of the border, though the higher peaks were bare stone like black ash, most capped with white snow, though that was dwindling. The sky was a dark fog also, carried on winds from Kerak'Otozi's eruptions of smoke and flame. If those black clouds began to cover the Free Lands, the demons would be able to invade.

'How long do you think it will take?' he asked Adem.

'Don't know, Carl,' Adem said. 'The need of the mission drives me forward. I can sense we are on the right path, though whether we are heading in the right direction is a mystery.'

'If it really is a trap,' Carl said, 'then perhaps the Stairs will appear by means controlled by our enemies, the ones who set the bait.'

'If that is the case we needn't worry then.'

'Well, it's just a theory, there is a chance we could be wandering out here until the world sizzles like a lamb roast.' That brought startled grunts and murmurs from nearby Alit'aren and Aldebrands. No one enjoyed being reminded just how little time remained.

'We will find the Stairs,' Adem said, 'then Odin's Heart, and then we'll cure Jean and kick some demons into the dirt!'

'I like the sound of that,' Carl replied. 'I hope you're right.'

***

Calliestra watched the forces led by the Sons of Odin, as they moved northeast from the city of Korhad. She watched from a room of dark panelled walls and red marble floors—the room was real, and yet not real at all—in a place that existed between worlds, between night and day, darkness and light. She saw their forces through a hole in the air, like a mirror that reflected whatever she wished to see, real or imagined. It was a trick known only by a few of her kind, salvaged from ancient texts of the Five Powers and the wonders that were performed in ancient days. Over time these miraculous Angel-Spells were lost even to the memories of the Great Angels, and so they were lost to mankind. This was a point of leverage for Calliestra, a way in which the eternal battle was tipped in her favour. She poured over the ancient texts to decipher the rarest gems of ancient magic, to aid her in her struggle against the Free Lands. The view was obtained from the eyes of a spying raven—

A warp of air shimmered across the room and Kelveroth appeared—cloaked in shadows with his silvered mask in the shape of a long-fanged demon. His pet black panther also entered the room, its black eyes burning gold for a moment as the same light flared in the eyes of its master. 'You are late,' Calliestra said. 'Where have you been?'

'It does not concern you,' Kelveroth replied, his tone like soft thunder. 'What of the girl?'

'She accepted the gift. She sleeps now, and her lover sets out on his Odin quest.'

'You are confident in your ability to bargain with the Kjia'hyenti?'

'We have a long-standing negotiation in place,' Calliestra replied with a grin. 'Your responsibility will be to summon a challenge to distract the Sons of Odin. What do you know of the creatures of that world?'

'I will set a challenge for the Sons that will inspire terror,' Kelveroth said. 'You concentrate on finding the Heart. The Sons must not obtain it.'

'That is something the Kjia'hyenti are unwilling to give up,' Calliestra said with a vexed sigh.

'We will have to find it then,' Kelveroth murmured. The air began to warp around the two of them, drawing in their flesh like a swarming school of brightly coloured fish; transparent light and shadows. Calliestra held her breath, and the world around her began to shift.

***

Carl swiped his spear in a line—red flames spouting from the blade in a thin wave—as dozens of Rahkwel burst like sacks of grain. Adem rode at his right flank and Wil to his left; it was tight work fighting your way out of enemy lines after making a charge, even with heavy cavalry. They were forced to join the charge to give some inspiration to the soldiers, who were taken by surprise when thousands of the goblin creatures stormed out of a mountain pass known as Hordrin's Corridor. It was wide enough for hundreds of the creatures to flow from the pass in a line, with the bulk of their forces pushing forward with spears and pikes. That made for deadly circumstances when leading the charge, though Adem, Carl and Wil had linked to unleash massive spears of flame to soften their ranks.

There were some Nymloc amongst their masses also, scattered and without armour, though they were more dangerous than tigers when pressed in close combat. Men screamed as they were pulled from their horses, goblin spears punching through armour and breastplates.

There were two more passes north and south of this one, and while they were holding back the first wave of Rahkwel with Angel-Magic, thousands more demons poured from the other two unguarded passes. They were being penned in like goats. This was the work of the High-Servants, or one of them at least.

As the outer defences took the brunt of the attacks from the north and south, Carl saw that there were thousands of Nymloc amongst those ranks, and hundreds of Jacoulra were also lumbering forward with their bull shaped snouts and curved black horns. Some of those creatures were ten feet tall, muscular dark-skinned beasts with massive claws.

A second wave of light cavalry swept along the flanks, breaking up the enemy lines and giving them a chance to fall back before they were surrounded. Ael Tarael and archers hammered the Rahkwel that tried to give chase—and the goblins were fast runners—balls of coloured flames falling like boulders and arrows covering the sky like black fire. The Ael Tarael were guarded by Alit'aren shields and Aldebrands wielding swords or axes, though Carl's forces arrived just in time to save them from being overrun by the southern attack. Horse lines surrounded the wielders and lowered lances for another charge.

But the Rahkwel and Nymloc were too close! Hundreds of crossbowmen fired bolts that punched through goblin armour and dark scaled flesh. Hundreds of demons fell; thousands more of them charged forward. Carl aimed his spear at the attackers—they were less than twenty paces off now—and with the link he was able to harness enough of Angel-Magic to unleash something he'd been working on.

A line of red fire, thick as his wrist, exploded outwards from the spearhead; then the fire split off into thirty lines from the same point, like a massive prism of light. The fire struck the nearest charging demons, then split off again, a dozen lines of fire sprouting from the holes torn in the chests of the front lines. As the lines stuck more demons behind those lines, it split again, six times out of every target. Demons dropped like apples falling off a cart, yet still thousands more charged.

Adem shouted, 'Arawn!' as Carl shouted, 'Math Mathonwy!'

Wil cried, 'Eledisren!' at the same moment that dozens of Shadow Hounds and Fire Lions became flesh; charging forward to strip flesh from the enemy. Hundreds of Flame Crows appeared in the air; swooping down in sharp-ended fists to blast demons to blood and ashes. Fire burst from Lions, Crows and Hounds, then side-winding bolts of blue lightning.

Hayley cried, 'Druantia!' Hundreds of vines began to reach up out of the ground, coiling around the demons like pythons, pulling them into the earth. Carl thought that last trick might have saved them, as the other spirit wardens had not been enough to hold back such numbers. Arawn, Math and Dis Pater charged forward, weapons of fire hacking through demon skulls and torsos, black blood flying—

Horns, to the north! They were Rahkwel horns; then dozens more to the south.

Another trap! This is not a good day!

Chapter 17

Shadow Swarm

Adem swung his blade, slicing through the skull of a Nymloc with blazing red eyes. That was one of the few that had made it through the first lines of defence. Adem, Carl and Wil weren't risking themselves in further charges. Mostly they sat in the saddle, the three of them linked, as they released waves of fire and lightning. A half dozen of Adem's Jade Warriors were also carving a path through the demon masses. The twelve-feet-tall samurai of green flames spun their burning blades to hack flesh and bone into foul smoking chunks.

Arawn, Dis Pater and Math Mathonwy slew a path through the demons with their massive weapons, the ten-feet-tall dark cloaks of Arawn and Dis Pater, and the eight-feet-tall red-caped form of Math were seen wherever black blood spurted in dark waves. Shadow Hounds, Fire Lions and Flame Crows joined the battle; focused on holding back the flow of thousands of Rahkwel and Nymloc that surged out of Hordrin's Corridor. Hounds and Lions formed a perimeter where demon flesh was devoured and shredded into smoking ash. Crows punched through enemy chests like dark bolts; demon flesh bursting into bright flame.

There were thousands of demons on all three sides of the battle now, east from the Corridor, as well as attacks pressing from the north and south. The west was closed off by hundreds of Jacoulra and several thousand Nymloc early on; they barred the path through another smaller series of mountain ranges that was too steep on both sides to attempt a safe retreat. This was the work of a cleverly devised trap, focused on this point exactly. Further charges may break up the enemy lines enough to attempt to flee this battle, though that would also allow this demon invasion to move west across the Free Lands.

Ael Tarael unleashed bars of liquid flame from their fingertips, and balls of flame the size of boulders fell from the sky to plummet into the demon ranks. The three male Battle Angels continued to hack and slash with their enchanted weapons in a blood-frenzy. Druantia hovered in the air above Hayley—Wil's wife was well guarded by Arig and a dozen Aldebrands, as well as Alit'aren and Ael Tarael—the female Battle Angel gestured as shoots of plants and vines burst from the earth to wrap around demon flesh, pulling them into the earth to devour them between grating chunks of stone like giant teeth. Adem gestured and red flames burst from the earth to tear demons apart, limbs and skulls flying in sprays of dark blood—

A great light split in the clouds above them, and Adem heard angelic female voices singing. He realised it was the Ael Tarael who were singing, and then the Alit'aren joined in, their deep masculine chants adding a darkness to the female voices. The light from the sky spread in an arc across the dry earth, and the Rahkwel shielded their eyes as the Nymloc and Jacoulra within the beams of light began to explode. Not all of the demons fell under that light however, though they held their positions as if wary of the light that fell from the sky like slanted crystal towers.

Then it appeared, forcing a wedge between Adem's forces, formed of dark stone that looked slick like wet metal, a series of stairs rising up the centre of the structure that fell over thirty feet at the peak. Adem looked up at those high dark walls and the staircase that twisted down towards them at the base. It was the Stairs of Odin!

He pushed his horse through the soldiers towards the base of the Stairs. Wil and Carl were close behind him, with Hayley and Arig, Orion, Elmira, Tobin and Lydia also following. They climbed from their saddles and began to ascend the stairway, with a dozen Aldebrands, half as many Ael Tarael and four Alit'aren who would serve as Hayley's guard while the Sons entered the portal.

The stairs looked made for larger feet when Adem first approached them, though as he ran upwards, each step lowered itself to accept his feet. At the top of the steps, the stone levelled out and ran over thirty feet in a line that was over fifteen feet wide, to reach a square structure of the same dark metallic stone. Within the square a blue fire surged. It was a shield of flames that swirled inwards to stretch off into infinity. The tunnel of light was surely the portal. Bolts of blue lightning occasionally flared within that square tunnel, and the fire changed to clouds, then water, then fire again.

Orion was suddenly at his side, saying, 'Only three may enter. You will need your Brothers in there if it is a trap.' He had to half shout over the sounds of battle and the singing voices that seemed to resonate from the portal itself. 'I would join you if I could, though I must stay to protect my wife. Your Battle Angels are your best hope of victory in there. But remember this; do not challenge the Leaf Aldebrands. Just ask for the cure. They should offer you this without argument, but they will not willingly give up the Heart of Odin. If they refuse, you will have to find it. That other world has many dangers. Be wary, Son of Odin.'

'We cannot leave you here to die,' Adem replied.

'Time is faster there,' Orion said, 'we will hold out long enough for your return. Do not stay too long, however, or we will surely perish. Go, now.' Orion pushed Adem towards the portal. He looked to the field where Arawn cut through demon skulls with his massive crimson blade, summoning the Battle Angel back to his Resting Point. His army was pressed in around the Stairs now, with the demon forces closing in around them as their defences began to break. As Arawn returned to Adem's sword hilt, he leapt for the wall of blue fire ... blue clouds ... blue water ... blue sky ... he fell ... forever he fell through endless blue skies ... he was submerged in water ... endless blue depths surrounded him ... he danced in a field of lightning ... a thousand bolts fell with each step he took ... he stood on the other side of the portal, it was oval on this side, the same dark metallic stone, green fire within, then green skies, green water.

He stood waiting for Carl and Wil, as he gazed at the city that lay before him, the strangest structure he'd ever seen or even imagined. The towers were sometimes crystal, like great claws reaching for the sky, crimson, golden, emerald or aqua crystal shards like layers of massive curved blades pressed together in formation. Other parts of the city appeared older, made of blue stone that shimmered with light. Moss, vines and even small flowers, plants and trees were growing on the hundreds of windowsills, balconies and rooftops. Other buildings appeared to be made of pure gold. Those towers and palace walls were rectangular slabs, formed of rectangular stone, some slapped together at strange angles and with layers jutting out the sides like some intricate puzzle.

There was a massive path of crimson marble tiles that also emanated an unnatural light, stretching off into the heart of the city where the tiles became blue light, surrounding a massive statue of what appeared to be one of Druantia's Green Men. The figure was formed of shining blue stone, holding aloft an open palm where a green fire hovered in the air, seemingly in the shape of a giant leaf. The sky was even stranger; three silvered moons, in a purple sky with pink clouds, and no sun, although the land was bright as noon on a summer day.

He wasn't sure how long he crouched there waiting for his friends, he understood the moments they delayed could seem like hours here, and indeed, he began to think he might have been waiting that long when Carl finally appeared at his side, approaching without a sound, his spear of red flames held like a walking staff as he too gazed at the city in the distance. A dome of pale green light also shimmered on the horizon and could be seen overhead when looking at the sky. It appeared to be some sort of barrier in which this dimension was preserved. Whatever lay beyond those boundaries, Adem didn't care to wonder. He had two objectives, a cure for Jean, and to find the Heart of Odin.

'What is this place?' Carl asked as they waited for Wil to arrive.

'Can't your Battle Angels give you all the information you need?' Adem asked.

'They've gone silent.' Carl replied, which gave Adem pause to try to speak with his own Battle Angels through the kigare, something he hadn't considered while waiting. There was no response; his sense of them was that they seemed cautious, alert, like a caged feline.

This place made them nervous.

They seemed to wait even longer for Wil than Adem had originally waited on Carl to arrive. It made sense of course, the moments Wil spent saying farewell to Hayley would equate to waiting much longer here than the few seconds before Adem and Carl had leapt at the portal. When Wil finally arrived, he was grim faced; most likely at having left Hayley surrounded by a growing force of demons. Adem was grateful for his friend's sacrifice. He would owe him for assisting him in finding a cure for Jean. He would owe them all.

***

Orion watched the battle unfold from his raised perspective, Elmira at his side with her hood covering her features. Her golden braid swayed as she scanned the battlefield, hanging across her breast one moment, then at her side then back again. She was linked with Lydia who stood to the far side of Tobin, also at his side. Both women were calling down lightning to pummel demons into the earth. They focused their attacks on the Rahkwel and Nymloc that tried to charge the outer defences, where Alit'aren held Shield-Spells of Air-Magic, allowing the Aldebrands and other immortal soldiers to hack through those Shield-Spells when pressed by demon flesh. That method would hold for now, but the linked Alit'aren would eventually tire, and when their Shield-Magic failed, the swordsmen would find it near impossible to hold off their attackers.

Orion fumed at the fact that he and Tobin were restricted in their wielding; they could have done some serious damage in a link with their two wives combined. That gave him an idea. Once it dawned on him, he couldn't imagine how it had evaded him until now. He and Tobin could link with their wives to make a circle of four, with Hayley and Arig joining that circle to make three male wielders, and three females. Such a link could devastate a large bulk of the forces that were already swarming in on all sides, and properly directed could turn this certain slaughterhouse into a defensible situation.

When he suggested this to his wife, she said, 'You are forbidden to wield any element other than Air-Magic, husband. Need I remind you?' Snapped was a better way to describe her tone.

'There is nothing in the decree about male wielders linking with females who hold the link,' he explained, 'and with the six of us combined we would increase Druantia's strength tenfold.'

'I see your point,' Elmira replied; her eyes wild as she continued to wield the lightning bolts, that fell in six dozen places every half-second. Those were her own bolts, with Lydia wielding as many or more on the west side of the battle. Tobin and Lydia needed little encouragement before they four formed a link, then Hayley joined, then Arig last. By the time Hayley had joined the link—the bulk of the flow of the link passed to her—Orion felt more alive than ever before. His heart pounded in his chest with the raw majesty of Angel-Magic flowing through him, though Jinn-Magic made his stomach twist as if swollen with rancid plums. Teron was a raging battle at the best of times, though at this intensity he found himself wondering if he might lose control—if not for the fact that the women held the link. For the most part Angel-Magic was being siphoned out of him, feeding the Angel-Spells that the women began to unleash.

Lightning flared on all four sides of the battlefield, hundreds of blazing blue bolts thick as pythons, some taking the form of great spirit-snakes and launching through enemy lines to devour demons, whole. Orion watched as the battle began to turn in their favour.

Druantia hovered about twelve feet above Hayley, shimmering blue-green fire made out her gown with hair of black flame, her seed shaped black eyes burning with hatred for the accursed beasts. Shoots, vines, and even trees began to spring up out of the ground within the demon ranks, pulling the creatures into the earth or devouring them with sharp wooden maws. This effect rippled through the fields, reaching hundreds of the demons on all sides of the battle. They were still penned in like goats, but they were fighting like lions.

A great cheer arose from the soldiers, Aldebrands and Alit'aren. The Ael Tarael began singing once more, an ancient battle ode in the Immortal Tongue. Agnars moved like death-adders, striking at the clustered Rahkwel bodies that made it as far as the Shield-Spells. Alit'aren also coiled and slashed with viperous talent, even common immortal soldiers fought with an ability that would appear blurred to a mortal's eyes—

Rahkwel horns! Hundreds of them, to the north and the south! His immortal eyes scanned the horizon to see dark waves of demons approaching from both sides, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands! They could not hold out against such a force, he realised this with a sinking pain in his chest. His wife flashed him a challenging stare, their time spent wielding Battle Angles of their own had formed a link between their emotions just as it was with Adem Highlander and Jean Fairsythe.

Lightning bolts fell like rain, the sky was aflame! Teron filled him near to limitless! He wanted to scream with rage, but the bliss of Angel-Magic contained his fury. He held Tigerclaw slanted to the side, but raised, ready to take to the forms if the lines broke. The blade glowed amber in his vision, golden tiger-hilt gripped with both fists. He would saturate this platform in demon blood if the battle lines collapsed, but for now he held onto the raging storm that was Angel-Magic, harmony and agony flooding his veins.

An arc of flames erupted from the earth—that was the Ael Tarael fighting below—a hundred paces wide. Amber leopards emerged from the flames, charging through the demon ranks as flames and lightning burst sideways from their forms. There were over two hundred of the Flame Leopards, as the Ael Tarael must have been linked in large circles. The female singing continued, their chant caught up in Air-Magic; resonating over the battlefield. The Alit'aren joined in for the male chorus, as did the Aldebrands and other warriors, deep bass tones to contrast with the female voices. It was an ancient tactic, inspiring fear and doubt in the heart of their enemies by showing they would not yield. In the mortal tongue the translation the women sang was;

Eternity, Immortality, The High Blood will prevail!

Eternity, Infinity, The Aelfin rule on high!

Eternally indestructible, Ael Tarael will fight!

Unstoppable Retribution, Unwavering in their might!

The chorus continued with male voices, singing,

The Nordics of the High Born, Eternity, Destruction!

Raise the banners; harness the Light, Prepare to Assault!

Eternally the Blade of Light! The Harbinger of Death!

Raise the banners; harness the Light, Prepare to Destroy!

Next, they sang in the mortal tongue, for there were thousands of mortal soldiers amongst their ranks who also needed to hear the words. The Alit'aren maintained their Shield-Magic on the outer defences while the soldiers joined in the male chorus, their swords moving with liquid motion, tight formation; demon bodies fell in sprays of dark blood. Lightning rained, and fire erupted in amber fountains, they would hold for now. But that army that approached from north and south would reach them soon, and then ... then they would surely fall under that wave of darkness.

Chapter 18

Dark Titans

Adem stood by a large fountain worked with statues of female Great Angels, bright green water spouting from the mouth of a bronzed fish, with sea horses rising from the pool. Carl stood to his right with Wil at his left, all of them staring, not at the fountain, but at the strange creatures that began to emerge from the shadows of nearby doorways. They were the Leaf Aldebrands, all of them unique in appearance, some covered in a shaggy grey fur, others blue or green furred. All with large seed shaped eyes that glowed with the same colour as their fur or skin. Their body shapes also varied, from short and stout to tall and slender, some wearing only hessian cloth to cover their private areas, others wearing shining armour or coats and cloaks.

Dozens of them were appearing all around the square near the fountain, their leader appeared to be the short stocky male with grey fur and eyes like blue lanterns. He wore a short red coat that flared at the waist and blue baggy trousers tucked into red leather boots. 'The Sons of Odin are most welcome, here in our realm,' said the little fellow in a deep croaky tone. 'We know what it is that you seek, though we cannot submit the Heart of Odin to you.'

'You know we need a cure for Jean?' Adem asked in shock.

'We see much from the world known as Kismeria,' the little man replied. 'We know of the sleeping curse upon the Daughter of Thor. I can offer you the cure for this, though you must then leave and never return to this place. If you do return, you will face our wrath.'

'I will accept the cure,' Adem said, and the little man extended his paw to produce a golden chain that looked similar to the one that was used to infect Jean, a small golden dragon with emerald eyes attached.

'You will take this and promise to never return?' the creature asked.

'I will accept the cure,' Adem promised, he still wasn't sure if he would leave without searching for the Heart.

'You speak in half promises, Adem Highlander,' the little man said with a glint to his eyes, 'though the safety of the White Snow Fox is integral to the preservation of all worlds. So, I will grant the cure and hope that you then leave without making further trouble.' Adem stepped forward to accept the chain that the little man placed in a small golden box before handing it over.

'Do not touch this device with your own skin,' he said. 'Place it on the wrist of the Daughter of Thor. It will reverse the spell and she will awaken.' Adem took the small box and placed it in his leather belt pouch.

'So, do you also know who created the curse?' Adem asked.

'I will not speak of it,' the man replied. 'You must leave now.' Suddenly the sky grew dark, a great thundercloud had gathered, and lightning flared above the green dome. The Leaf Aldebrands appeared startled; they began to retreat into the shadows. 'You must go, now!'

A dark shadow billowed out of the ground, erupting like a volcano over thirty feet into the air! The creatures scattered and retreated, as the shadow took the form of a giant black serpent with a red belly and crimson eyes. Its tail lashed out towards Carl, sending him flying through the air, to hit a wall of a building that crumbled as Carl vanished within the rubble. Adem hoped his friend had created a Shield-Spell to buffer his impact—he'd sensed Carl wielding Angel-Magic before he crashed into the wall—but Adem's attention was taken up with avoiding the lashing tail of the giant black viper.

He shouted, 'Arawn!' Twelve fully grown male lions made of flesh and fur launched at the snake to climb its body and bite into its shadow-flesh. The snake melted to take the form of many smaller black pythons, all of them moving for the hole where Carl had vanished. Adem was about to follow when two more shadows spurted from the marble floor. One taking the form of a giant chariot of red flames, dark horses being whipped by a figure of cloaked shadows that stood over twelve-feet-tall!

Wil shouted, 'Eledisren!' and Dis Pater appeared at his side, a figure of dark shadows wielding his great golden axe, that he used to block the flames that launched from the mouth of one of the horses. The chariot began to charge towards Wil, and his friend took off, running with a speed that could match most immortals! Where did he learn that? The other shadow tower became the figure of a giant. A muscular human form with pale flesh in black armour, its potato shaped head revealing one large amber eye. A Cyclops!

The figure wielded a massive black hammer, and it raised the weapon as Adem shouted, 'Llew Llaw Gyffes!' He teleported to the highest tower he could see nearby. He watched from the tower window as the Cyclops began to pace towards the same building where Carl had been thrown. Adem raised his blue bow and began to unleash arrows, striking the skull of the massive creature that stood over forty-feet-tall. Slowly, the giant turned and began to move towards the tower where Adem stood. He sheathed his bow and began to unleash bolts of lightning with his fists; they should have burned holes through the creature's flesh, though they did little visible damage other than leave a trail of smoke after impact.

Arawn and Llew hovered around the skull of the beast, hacking at the giant with their blades of flame, unleashing crimson and blue lightning bolts.

He saw Wil racing across the marble tiles in the distance, the chariot in close pursuit as Dis Pater launched at the cloaked figure with his golden axe. Each time Dis Pater swung the weapon, a shield of red flames blocked the strike.

The Cyclops began to climb the tower which crumbled in its grip. Adem used the teleport ability to move to another building nearby. He asked Balor if he knew any way to locate the Heart. There was no response from any of his Battle Angels.

He lashed out with bolts of lightning that struck the creature and it lost its grip to fall over fifty feet with a heavy crash; sending massive cracks through the marble floor. The creature sat upright to shake its head, swatting at the two Battle Angels that circled its form, then it stood and began to pursue Adem once more. He realised he'd need to distract the creature to allow Carl a chance to locate the Heart. He sent this message to his Battle Angels through the kigare, telling them to inform Carl's Battle Angels to relay the message. He mouthed the name, 'Balor,' and his third Battle Angel's giant wolf of blue flames appeared behind the Cyclops. Shadowhunter growled as it charged. The Cyclops turned to boot the spirit-wolf in the ribs, sending it flying through the air with an amplified yelp!

***

Carl watched the approach of the dozens of slithering black pythons. He aimed his spear; red flames burst from the tip to strike the first of the snakes, turning it pale red before its shadow form vanished. That was the first time he'd been able to destroy one of the creatures, every other time his attacks only seemed to wound the creatures and slow their movements. He stood now in a chamber deep within the building where he'd landed. First moving through the hole in the wall created by the shield he used to buffer his impact against the hard stone. The pursuit of the snakes had chased him deeper into these tunnels, where jewels and gold glittered in piles as he ran.

When he reached solid walls again, he used his newly adapted teleport ability—learnt from Llew Llaw Gyffes. He was able to move short distances through solid spaces—to move deeper within the chambers. The walls were solid gold or rainbow crystal on these lower levels, the sound of hissing snakes making him descend with haste. There appeared to be no other danger here. Math Mathonwy assured him that the Heart of Odin was close by.

His Battle Angels were connected to the Heart. They could sense its location to a certain extent over great distances, though Carl would need to refine his magic to pinpoint the artefact. Math produced a visual image in Carl's mind of a stone of pale blue—the size of a clenched fist—that glowed with light of various colours when touched. That was the Heart, and it was somewhere within these catacombs of treasure. As he moved closer to the destination, he began to sense the artefact in tune with his own heartbeat. He achieved this by wielding a spell that focused on the source of teron, the male half of Angel-Magic; that was the Magic of Odin. He used his Battle Angels to obtain this sense of teron, which flowed strongest through the artefact he sought. Many of the weapons and artefacts amongst these treasure piles must have been crafted for wielding terael, the female half of Angel-Magic, as he sensed nothing from them even though his Battle Angels assured him almost everything here was enchanted.

He moved through another wall of gold, entering a much larger chamber with treasure piles rising against the walls, the light emanated from no visible source, though it was everywhere. The ceiling was forty feet above, arched domes supported by crystal columns that glowed crimson, golden and emerald. The Heart was here, somewhere, he was certain of it—

The air warped above him to reveal a shadow-cloaked-figure with a demon-skulled silver-mask. Golden flames flared in the eye sockets; the High-Servant raised a blade burning like hot blood. Carl vanished before a crimson beam struck the treasure pile where he'd been standing. He'd used the teleport ability to shift behind the attacker. He landed crouched with his spear pointed at the back of the High-Servant. He unleashed a bar of red flame; sending the High-Servant flying through the air. A moment later the air shimmered to reveal a large black panther with eyes of liquid shadows. Carl shouted, 'Math Mathonwy!'

As the panther charged forward; a dozen Shadow Hounds surrounded the creature, slashing at its skull with steel claws. The panther fought back, striking out at its attackers, browbeating the Shadow Hounds as they howled in humiliation. The twelve Hounds were enough to keep the creature occupied, however. The presence of the panther meant this was Kelveroth. The little Carl knew of this Shadowsouled was that he was once known as a careful planner, preferring a cleverly designed tactic to open attacks. Kelveroth raised his sword as Carl shifted to land some distance from the unleashed wall of flame. Kelveroth hovered in the air, black cloak billowing like clouds; the air around him seemed to radiate evil. He was strong too.

Math Mathonwy launched at Kelveroth, red spear striking sword of flames, fire erupted through the air in a wave, shaking the walls as stone began to fall from the ceiling.

Carl sensed for the Heart, locating it somewhere beneath a nearby pile of gold coins and jewellery boxes. Then he found the exact location—as another blast of fire shook the earth and the treasure pile flowed like sand—and he saw it, a pale blue stone half buried in gold. Kelveroth must've sensed it also, as he thrust the sword into Math Mathonwy's chest plate, sending the Battle Angel flying across the room. The air around Kelveroth warped, but at the same time Carl used his ability to shift to the Heart. They both clutched the stone a second later ... Lightning flared in the stone; bursting outwards in all directions. Carl felt Angel-Magic fill him! Teron was a raging storm, an avalanche of fire and a river of corruption.

Lightning pulsed through Kelveroth's form, harnessed by Carl and focused on the pressure points of his enemy. The High-Servant was thrown backwards from the blast, hitting a wall collapsing in a heap of smoke. The air warped around the fallen form and Kelveroth vanished. As did his panther, only moments after Math's Shadow Hounds became a pack of thirty, all larger than their normal size and snarling with ferocity. The Heart of Odin flared in his left fist, lightning filling the room and moving from the crystal into his flesh, a bolt of blue light flaring behind him like a thick Fire Serpent.

Carl summoned Math back to his spear, the Hounds and his Battle Angel flowing into the weapon in a flare of red light. A moment later Carl shifted again, this time he would have been able to move to the surface in one leap. Though instead he went deeper into the structure. Something else was down here, something that was also calling to him.

***

Wil dodged a burst of red flames that one of the horses spat at him. The cloaked spectre whipped at Dis Pater, sending the Battle Angel flying through the air. Those whip attacks were draining Dis Pater's strength, soon he would need rest to recover. Wil ran as fast as any Aelfin, somehow, he'd become capable of this through his experiences in the Chameleon Arch. As his flesh became stronger, his speed and endurance increased.

He unleashed golden arrows at the tall shadow, each arrow hitting the shield of flames and doing no visible damage, other than to distract the spirit; allowing Dis Pater to launch another attack. Their efforts were futile however; they were going to lose this battle unless they found the Heart.

He ran in circles around the chariot, arrows of flame seemingly doing some damage to the shadow steeds at least. They became slower; temporarily, and their flame tongues were extinguished for a time. He moved like Quicksilver, teron flowing through his veins as he harnessed the strongest attacks he could manage. Those arrows would have taken out over fifty Rahkwel in an explosion of fire, though against this foe they were almost useless—

Suddenly bolts of blue lightning were surging up out of the ground all around Wil, they moved in thick tendrils like Fire Serpents. The bolts tore into his flesh; his blood coursing with levels of teron that he'd never thought possible! With this amount of Angel-Magic, he felt that he was made of Elemental Magic. Jinn-Magic surging through its purity like a sea of leprous eels.

He fired burning light at the specter's skull, the arrows punched through the shield, as golden flames encased the shadow-cloaked figure. He fired upon the horses, punishing them with heavy blasts as they began to buck and bolt.

Lightning flowed into Dis Pater, as the air above the Battle Angel swarmed with thousands of Flame Crows. They swooped upon the shadow figure, pecking at its cloak to tear it apart in dark shreds. Others flew like bullets, striking the horses and tearing holes through their flesh. Dis Pater swung his golden axe at the skull of the ghost, crows scattered as the cloak collapsed in a blue blaze of floating ashes.

***

Carl moved deeper through the tunnels and chambers of gold and crystal, treasures laying in piles, gold and jewels, horns, shields, armour and weapons of gold or silver. He moved in short jumps, morphing through walls of gold or dark stone, the new source of magic drawing him deeper.

His Battle Angels were coaxing him onwards, urging him to locate the source as they insisted it was vital to the future of Kismeria. They would say no more than this, though their sense of urgency was enough. Lightning still flared around him, pulsing from the blue stone that filled his right fist. Teron flowed through him like a storm of bliss, Jinn-Magic so revolting he felt it might rip him apart. Angel-Magic raged; stretching his every fibre to their absolute limits.

He shifted deeper, the blue stone flaring with light in the darkness. Leaf Aldebrands occasionally scrambling across the floors, walls or even the ceilings, their large eyes gazing upon him with awe. He moved deeper, knowing every moment he searched was more time he risked the lives of so many. He landed in a square shaped cavern of crystal. Before him was a chamber of solid gold with a large door of shimmering blue runes.

He shifted the Heart of Odin to his left hand, reaching for his crimson spear and extending it to full length in his right fist. The spell just seemed to enter his mind, some transference via the Heart. He tapped against the gold chamber with the point of his spear, blue lightning pulsing from his form to enter the glowing runes. A network of turning gears could be heard as the door slid sideways. An immortal man stood within the chamber, though Carl wondered what could be so important about this fellow. The figure was at first crouched, against the wall, wearing a tattered coat, and trousers. His hair was short, dark and spiked, and remarkably his face was clean shaven.

The man stared at Carl as if seeing right through him, he looked haunted from his imprisonment, then his large green eyes became harder, focused. He hunched at first, coughed and covered his mouth with his fist; then he pointed to another door against the far wall. 'Ayen si y'vend,' the man said, which took a moment for Carl to interpret. It was Old Nordic, he was saying, 'My belongings.'

Carl moved to open the other door that glowed green, and when the solid gold panel slid free, it revealed armour and a sword with a jewelled scabbard, but the first thing the man reached for was a small brown leather pouch. He tipped the bag upside down over his palm, and four small gems spilled out. They glowed with a pale light, a ruby, emerald, diamond and a sapphire.

Then the little furry Leaf Aldebrand leader appeared through a warp in the crystal wall, shouting, 'No! You cannot do this! Curse you, Carl Wilder! Curse you!' The little man shook a fist with anger burning in his seed shaped eyes, then vanished in another warp of air. 'They will be back soon,' the immortal said. The man began to gather his other belongings when suddenly more of the furry creatures began to emerge through the wall of crystal, the air warping as they appeared out of columns of shadow and light. Carl moved beside the immortal, clasping a hand over his shoulder, and they shifted from this place, towards the surface.

***

Adem sensed the moment Carl obtained the Heart of Odin, then the next moment lightning tore through the walls of the high tower where he stood. Blue bolts thick as pythons latching onto his flesh, teron surging through his veins to unimaginable levels. The Cyclops was climbing the tower below him, Balor, Llew and Arawn circling the skull of the creature as it gripped the golden bricks that crumbled in its fists. The moment that lightning appeared, his Battle Angels began to assault the Cyclops in a frenzy of strikes; their glowing weapons releasing bolts of lightning and waves of flame. This time the giant was affected by their attacks. As it started to lose its grip on the tower, Adem shouted in the Immortal Tongue, the English translation was, 'Wings of Odin!'

Wings of blue flame burst from Adem's back, as the lightning continued to pulse around him and bury into his flesh and bones. Teron was a whirling cyclone of flame and a cascading river of snow! With that amount of Angel-Magic flowing through him, Jinn-Magic was almost unbearable. He could turn an army of Rahkwel to vapour or make the earth crumble in pillars of flame. He raised his fist, a spear of lightning appeared in his right hand, glowing incandescent blue.

He flew!

He soared out the window on the Wings of Odin!

He was the Blue Water Dragon!

High above the Cyclops he hovered, circling the creature as he threw down dozens of the lightning rods. Each attack stunned the creature, sending it off balance, but it was not destroyed. He harnessed more Angel-Magic, teron filling his veins to fifty times his normal capacity. He threw a bolt of lightning; that became a sword of blue flame, thirty feet long. It struck the skull of the Cyclops and surged through its form; black armour burned to smoke and slag as the creature began to shrink in size, then it fell.

Lightning still enveloped Adem, flowing into his form to fill him with teron and ki'mera. The ki'mera also charged up his Battle Angels.

He saw Carl and Wil on the ground below, two lightning spheres with human forms glowing within. Bran, Dis Pater, Angus and Math hovered around those spheres, as lightning coursed through their forms.

Adem swooped down towards his friends, landing beside them to see a third man, being held up by Carl; an immortal man with jade green eyes. Where had he come from? He was about to ask when six giant clouds burst from the marble floor, becoming columns of shadow. The shadows became the forms of two giant black pythons, two cloaked figures on burning chariots and two Cyclops! Adem heard a message from all of his Battle Angels at once, the word they shouted was, Retreat!

Math Mathonwy picked Carl up by the shoulders, as Dis Pater picked up Wil, launching them into the air on crimson and golden wings. Angus sprouted emerald wings and picked up the immortal man to carry him into the sky. Adem flew after them, towards the distant, glimmering portal.

***

Orion watched the army of darkness approaching from the south, hundreds of thousands of Rahkwel, Nymloc and Jacoulra. As well as Boli-Kuldr, the eight-feet-tall beasts in black armour with skulls of rams or bulls; they wielded heavy black scythes or double-edged axes. An equal sized force also approached from the north, and when those forces closed in around their defences, they were surely doomed.

Lightning still filled the sky, plummeting to the earth to strike hundreds of demons every flickering moment, the earth erupted in flames. Druantia's vines surged from the earth; coiling around demon bodies to drag them into the gaping chasms of dirt and stone. Trees still shot up out of the ground to snatch demon bodies and force them into wooden maws that chewed flesh and bones as black blood flowed down the animated trunks.

Ael Tarael wielded walls of flame and released Flame Leopards; setting demon bodies alight, though all of these defences were barely holding back the smaller forces that pressed in around the Stairs. Alit'aren Shield-Magic still defended the border lines where Aldebrands and soldiers fought with swords or axes to cut down Rahkwel and Nymloc, as the demons scratched at the walls of Air-Magic; snarling like ferocious lions.

Further back within the demon ranks, Rahkwel fired waves of dark arrows into the air. Ael Tarael Shield-Spells still protected the army from above, walls of Fire-and-Air-Magic turning every black shaft to dust. Without the Ael Tarael those arrows would have cut their army to shreds.

Men armed with pikes also pushed at the outer lines behind the Alit'aren shields, using the chop of blade and push of spear to keep some distance between the demons and Alit'aren Shield-Magic. When Ael Tarael attacks broke up the enemy lines, crossbowmen tore through the charging lines of demons, and archers would send volleys to slow the advance of the next wave. Orion suspected they were already running out of arrows and crossbow bolts. He heard Rahkwel horns sounding from the south ... He saw the first waves of the larger forces charging to close the gap between the outer defences—

Wil Martyr passed through the portal, carried by Dis Pater on golden wings! Carl Wilder was next to appear! Math Mathonwy setting Carl down, as the Battle Angel's crimson wings vanished, spear of red fire appearing in his grip. Lightning surged through the Sons of Odin and their Battle Angels; the Heart of Odin glowed bright blue in Carl's fist!

Orion pointed to the south and shouted, 'Look!' Carl turned to see the charging force of tens of thousands of demons, Nymloc, Rahkwel, Jacoulra and Boli-Kuldr. Carl pointed the Heart of Odin towards the demons. The earth beneath them became fire, red flames erupting from the earth in a square mile. Hundreds of Shadow Hounds appeared; massive dark wolves that released blasts of fire and lightning bolts. They charged into the advancing army; demon bodies exploding.

Adem Highlander flew from the portal, on wings of blue flame!

He was the Blue Water Dragon!

Adem soared high into the sky, lightning bolts surging around his form, and that of his three Battle Angels who circled his form on wings of fire. Angus and Bran also appeared beside Carl and Wil. When Wil gestured towards the army advancing from the north, the sky above became a cloud of Flame Crows, numbering in the tens of thousands; swooping upon the demon army to feast upon their flesh. Lightning of blues, reds and yellows burst from the crows, moving like pythons of light through the demon ranks. Crows punched through demon chests in bright flares; reducing flesh to crumbling ash.

Adem unleashed a bolt of lightning that fell towards the southern demon army, like a great trident, exploding outwards in waves of flame upon impact, turning thousands of demons to vapour! He unleashed a second attack upon the northern army to the same effect; the two demon forces halting in terror. The front lines even attempting a retreat as they were pushed forwards by the blades of those behind. There were Souljhin amongst those ranks also, riding shadow steeds and herding the demons forward, though even they halted in contemplation of what occurred next.

Druantia and the male Battle Angels formed a Link, and the clouded sky above began to surge with blue lightning bolts like giant Fire Pythons! The dark clouds rotated to form a vortex; lightning fell upon the demon ranks in crimson, golden, emerald and aqua bolts. A great roar of thunder filled the sky, rumbling again and again like the Herald of Odin!

In the sky above Adem Highlander, the face of the Lord of Lightning appeared. Odin the All Father, was a blue bearded cloud of light with eyes of white fire, hovering within the centre of the vortex. Suddenly the sky was filled with lightning, tens of thousands of blue bolts striking the demon ranks!

Demon bodies exploded in showers of dark blood, limbs and skulls flying amidst pillars of flame. Hundreds of Shadow Hounds became thousands, Arawn's Fire Lions joining the northern attack and numbering over a thousand. Each of them releasing blasts of fire and lightning that sent shockwaves through the demon forces, bodies exploding in rivers of blood. Llew Llaw Gyffes' wolves of blue fire also appeared, spread across the north and south sides of the battle, and Balor's giant wolf Shadowhunter charged at their head on the northern side, blue lightning bursting from its form to blast demons to cinders.

Orion then noticed the other man who had appeared from the portal, carried and set down by the Battle Angel, Angus. He looked upon the man's immortal face, those large green eyes. His armour was navy blue with an emerald dragon emblazoned on the chest, holding a spear of white fire. It took him a few moments for the realization to dawn upon him, though when he saw the man fumbling in his belt pouch to draw forth four small stones—a ruby, a diamond, an emerald and a blue stone—he realised he must be looking at Elarja RinHannen!

He was certain the man had to be Elarja, though he looked drained of strength, close to death in fact, despite the radiance in his eyes. The stones began to glow in his hand, and suddenly the lightning also surrounded Elarja's form, filling him with teron and ki'mera. That might be enough for the man to recover to a point of being able to assist in this battle, though Orion knew he needed one last artefact to assure their victory.

His temporary connection to Druantia through the kigare, also now extended to the Battle Angels of the Sons of Odin. He sent a request, to Llew Llaw Gyffes, explaining the location of the Harp of Odin, which lay in a chest in a secret chamber at Nordhel. There was no response from the Battle Angel, but Carl Wilder turned to Orion to say, 'I will bring it!' Carl then vanished in a flare of blue fire.

Moments later Carl reappeared in a flare of blue light—a new ability via the Heart, Orion assumed—and in his left hand was the Harp of Souls, the Heart of Odin still glowing in his right. Orion reached for the Harp, breathing a sigh of relief as he strummed three strings, the sound resonating through the air.

For a moment, everything seemed to slow, his breathing, the battle, the lightning, as shockwaves ruptured outwards through the demon ranks, the aftermath of each string plucked, flowing in all directions. A fog began to rise, billowing grey clouds lined with silver light that oozed from the ground within the lines of defence. A rider appeared on the platform, rising out of a column of the fog, the horse and rider shimmering with light. Orion recognized his face, it was Lord Jothar Kelderath. The Hero of Will raised a sword of blue fire, his armour silver light; his horse pale flames. Kelderath grinned as Orion stared back in pure shock. Out of the fog below, more riders began to appear, Heroes of Will summoned from the Harp of Odin. Each was a figure of light in shining armour; wielding sword, axe, bow or spear of blinding fire.

Carl Wilder also looked upon Kelderath in awe, as the Hero of Will said, 'Greetings, Orion Demon-Slayer. This is a fine battle. The Heroes of Will are glad to join.'

Orion then saw that Arig Flame-Bow also glowed, as he began to unleash crimson arrows that hammered into the front lines of enemies to the south; demon bodies sent flying in explosions of blood and fire. Orion looked south, then north, to see a hundred or more glowing riders forming an arrowhead at the outer defences. In total the Heroes of Will must have numbered close to three hundred warriors, some guarding the east and west flanks. They were a burning apparition of majesty and might, ghosts that walked amongst the living; Heroes of incredible deeds in countless lifetimes.

A great cry arose from the Heroes of Will that was haunting and courageous. The cry was answered by the thousands of living warriors who stood with them, a furious battle cry of those who would shed demon blood this day! Energies flared from the arrowhead wedges, bolts of lightning from spears, flaming arrows from enchanted bows, miraculous spells that blazed with Elemental Magic. Vaporizing demon flesh, turning Boli-Kuldr armour to melted slag, and tearing limbs and skulls apart in brilliant bright flares. The might of the Heroes washed over the demon ranks as a tidal wave of pure magnificence, an obliterating force surging with magic from beyond the grave.

Chapter 19

The Dragon Rises

Adem watched the demon ranks shatter; lightning bolts tore through the earth; Rahkwel and Boli-Kuldr limbs flying, Nymloc and Jacoulra burning to ash. Thunder roared like a sea of lions; Odin carved from burning blue clouds above. The clouds burst with rainfall, a flooding downpour that soaked the dry earth as demons and humans alike began to lose their footing in the sludge. Even from this height of over eighty feet above the battlefield, he heard the cries of joy from the warriors below, their excitement building at the first rains in many weeks.

Lightning fell almost as heavily as the rain, blazing blue bolts striking the demons like giant blades, scorching the earth in explosions of stone and blood. Adem was wielding most of that lightning, with some assistance via the link between him, Carl and Wil. Teron was multiplied a hundred times a normal link, due to the Heart of Odin that fuelled their surge. Though, the lightning had a force of its own also, due to the Link between the Battle Angels, but also due to the presence of Odin.

Odin took form; a ten-feet-tall man in crimson-and-golden armour, a coat of blue fire and boots of emerald. His beard and hair were white fog with blazing blue eyes. Odin hovered above Adem on burning blue wings. Lightning bolts flowed from Odin's form, into Adem, as well as his Battle Angels, filling him with torrents of teron. Slain demon souls provided him with flying rivers of ki'mera. Glowing orbs flowed in all directions, from the demon ranks to the wielders who unleashed Elemental Attacks, as well as the Battle Angels and the Sons of Odin.

Hundreds of thousands of demons swarmed on both sides of the battlefield, pressing his army in around the Stairs. Soon those masses would crush his army against those walls.

Odin hurled lightning at the demons below. Blazing tridents struck the earth to explode in showers of burning flesh. Odin drew forth a blazing golden spear from his shoulder case, pointing the blade end at the demon ranks. White fire flew from the weapon; waves of energy exploding in a circular blast. He struck again and again, vaporizing hundreds of demons with every attack, wounding thousands, torn limbs flying from the point of impact. Arawn, Llew and Balor flew around Odin, the three Battle Angels hurling down fire and lightning at the demon army. The demons howled as flames erupted through their ranks like a grenade cluster.

The Heroes of Will were gathering at the forefront of the defensive lines; invincible wedges of shields and blades. Soldiers, Aldebrands and Alit'aren would defend the sides of those wedges to surround the Ael Tarael. The cavalry was sitting idle behind swordsmen and archers. Now was not the time to risk them on a charge through such a vast horde. They needed to wear the enemy down before the lines would break.

Adem noticed something else from this height. Fog was appearing on the edges of the demon ranks; with his enhanced vision he could make out the spirits of animals appearing from those glowing clouds. Some were stags, others were wolves, or bears, lions, leopards and cougars. The sky was suddenly aflame with thousands of birds of blazing light, eagles, falcons and hawks; they soared through the air and swooped upon the killing fields to harry the confused enemy. A great roar of thousands of animal spirits filled the air as the lions, wolves and other creatures charged into the demon ranks to attack with claws, horns or hooves. Adem knew this miracle was only possible due to the presence of Odin.

Adem harnessed a punishing flow of teron, throwing down two more Blades of Odin, one north and one south. He aimed at the heart of the demon ranks; lightning exploding in waves that vaporized demon flesh on both sides of the battlefield. Those attacks were draining to his strength, though the Heart of Odin replenished those levels after a time. He began to wonder for a better way to use such immense potential for destruction.

He saw an army nestled in a fold in the land to the north, a Borderland force with many black coated riders amongst them. It had to be the rebels. He flew like a bolt of lightning towards the army, some miles northwest of the battle, and his eyes made out the face of Rodriel Tarz; seated on a rise where he could oversee the battle.

He swooped down to hover some ten feet above Tarz and a number of other armoured immortals on horseback, keeping himself higher than the Alit'aren rebel—and showing off his Wings of Odin—to demonstrate his raised status. Tarz's eyes bulged for a moment in comprehension of Adem's face, then a look of control returned to the man, who scratched at his close-cropped black beard before saying, 'So, you truly are the Water Dragon, Adem Highlander. Eyen'sa'Tremlok: The Dragon Rises!' Tarz pressed fist to heart as he said, 'My men will follow you anywhere, Adem Highlander. The Blue Water Dragon rules the skies.'

Adem pressed a fist to his own heart and rose a few feet higher with his wings of blue flame flapping for emphasis—there was no need of wing movement to stay in the air—before he replied, 'You disappoint me, Tarz. Our people are trapped, and you remain here, waiting for your proven miracle. Well, here I am, Tarz. Look upon your Dragon and follow my commands. I give full permission for your Alit'aren to use whatever spell necessary to overthrow the enemy. I make the rules now.'

'I won't argue with your word, Water Dragon,' Tarz replied. 'I will do as you command.' Then he raised a fist and lightning flew from his hand into the sky, a signal to his army. He enhanced his voice with Angel-Magic as he turned his horse to shout at them, 'We ride to war! The Dragon Rises! Alit'aren, drive the enemy into retreat! Evien'da'soceura!' Adem understood that last was a war cry: To battle and bloodshed. A great roar erupted from the warriors in a wave. Horns sounded, and the riders began to charge.

***

Carl stood on the platform of Odin's Stairs. The portal had now become a square sealed by a slab of dark stone. He looked upon the southern side of the battle where lightning fell, and demons exploded in bursts of blood. Still the enemy pressed in around them, the outer defence lines swarming with Rahkwel and Boli-Kuldr that tried to penetrate the Alit'aren and Ael Tarael Shield-Spells with their blades and claws. The Heroes of Will fought back, a wedge of light and shadows; slashing with impossible speed; unleashing lightning and fire from spearheads and bows. The battle lines in front of them were being broken up by spirit-wolves and Shadow Hounds. Druantia's vines grappled demon bodies and pulled them into the earth.

The Battle Angels were still forming a Link. Odin and Adem's Battle Angels hovered in the sky throwing down lightning and fire. Carl sensed the consciousness of Orion, Tobin, Lydia and Elmira through the Link, as well as Hayley and Arig Flame-Bow. Arig had become a Hero of Will again! His coat and armour shone; his bow firing magic in the form of blades of molten lava. A look of tremendous concentration on his face, his dark hair flowing like shadows; his eyes were white lightning. Angus and Math Mathonwy hovered above Carl; creating Shield-Spells over the platform as lightning surged through their forms.

Each time Carl felt his ki'mera levels fully charge, he gestured towards the demon army. Flames erupted from the earth in waves, becoming the forms of more Shadow Hounds that tore through demon flesh. Still it was taking too long to regain his strength after each strike with Angel-Magic. He needed to get deep within the battle lines. He had to lead them! A new trick became possible via the Heart. The ability was explained to him by Math Mathonwy. Wil had also just learnt the technique.

Carl planted his crimson spear in the stone. Math Mathonwy became a shield around his flesh. Together, the two of them combined to become a twelve-feet-tall spirit of white fire with a spear of blue lightning. The armour of this new spirit form was burning blue. Carl was raised within this new form to hover within the chest of Math, Carl's spear and movements guiding the larger lightning-spear as Math's larger form moved under his control.

Carl turned to see Dis Pater combining with Wil, to form a similar being of light and shadows, wielding a massive axe of crimson light. Carl launched into the sky on wings of fire; landing at the head of the wedge of Heroes of Will to the south. His left fist planted in the earth, the ground trembling and a burst of mud flying before he stood within the pouring rain; pointing his spear at the demon swarms. The spear unleashed torrents of red flames and blue bolts; demons fell in burning pieces. The Heroes of Will roared with pride, and the other warriors joined in the battle cry. Carl charged forward, decapitating demon skulls in sprays of blood and flame. He heard the thunder of hooves from behind. Two dozen of the Heroes of Will rushed to his aid, hacking at skulls from horseback; blades scorching demon flesh. Rodin Cloud-Walker rode at their head on a white stallion—bolts of blue lightning blasting from his spear—while other Archer Heroes released blazing arrows from Lukrorian Bows. Carl roared as he moved into a frenzy of killing strikes, churning through demon flesh. The wailing of demons filled his ears, along with the sounds of steel clashing; armour and flesh tearing.

He gestured southwards, slamming the spear of fire into the earth. A wall of lightning fifty-feet wide and twenty-feet high flowed through the demon ranks, bodies fell, fried to dark masses. Other demons were melted or vaporized by the blasts.

Angus was there also, hurling emerald energies in waves, swinging his burning staff to unleash the attacks. Lightning surged through Angus, who fought with fury. Hundreds of bodies lay scattered at his feet. Shadow Hounds raced around them, biting and clawing at demon flesh, tearing off limbs and skulls in bursts of blood. It was a killing field, and they were close to victory. He swung the spear of lightning; unleashing thin sheets of fire over a hundred paces wide, slicing through the demon ranks. Demons screamed as flesh melted off their bones; skeletons collapsed in crimson flame.

***

Terese was overwhelmed with emotion; blue light emanating from her coat, white trousers, and burning aqua boots. The Heroes of the Harp of Souls had been summoned, and for now, she was one of them. Angel-Magic filled her spirit, though she was flesh and blood now also. The combination surpassed the might of even the ancient Nordics. A part of her wished to be at the battle that she sensed now through Tanriel, who was joined to her mind via the temporary surge in Angel-Magic.

She was somewhat surprised that her body was not transported to the battlefield to fight beside her Brothers and Sisters. Though, she was glad to remain at Jean's side to play the role of protector. Jean lay on the bed sheets in her deep slumber; she seemed to become paler by the minute. It pained her to see Jean so victimised, she blamed Adem for it. His indiscretions were at the heart of Jean's lack of better judgement. Though, Terese had to blame herself also. She should have foreseen this betrayal by Elviara and Verielle.

She wanted to scream with outrage, but Angel-Magic of the Heroes of Will was filling her with waves of deep calm and concentration, like lightning in her veins; burning brightly in her soul. She also felt weakened by the deep emotions that flickered through her consciousness. 'It will be alright, Jean,' she whispered as she stroked the woman's brow with her thumbnail. 'Adem will return, and you shall awaken.' She wanted to weep endlessly.

Tanriel sent a warning through the kigare, and Terese spun, drawing her blade that glowed like starlight. A warp in the air appeared, and a woman stepped through. Terese knew that face instantly, Calliestra! The Dark General—wearing a gown of white silk that also glowed with unnatural light—raised both hands with fingers pointed out flat; red fire flew from her fingertips! Terese stood facing the blast, wielding Shield-Magic at the same moment that she raised her sword. Terael was strong within her now; red lightning clawing at the wall of liquid-fire. Terese shouted the word, 'Assassin!'

The door swung wide as two Aldebrands leapt through the doorway, both with swords drawn. They charged towards Calliestra, and the woman gestured; both flying backwards, one hitting the door, the other flying through the doorway. Samran crumpled to the floor. Terese suspected Aldos would have a nastier lump on his head if he woke.

'So, it was you all along!' Terese shouted. 'I see Verielle in your features now. You will pay for this, Shadow-Heart!' She launched herself at the dark-haired woman, sword swinging in the forms of Lioness Claws, moving into Crow Wings, flowing into Raven Swoops, the blade danced around Calliestra as the woman twisted like a venomous serpent. Bear Tooth becoming Slow Burning Candle, an attempt made to drive the blade down into the woman's chest, followed by a series of horizontal swipes that Calliestra easily evaded by leaping backwards with the skill of a Battle Dancer. The woman's dark eyes flared with anger however, she knew when she was outmatched, but did not like the realisation.

'You are strong for now, little Brenda,' Calliestra said, 'but I will return for you, and her, when your abilities are drained.' She raised her hands again to unleash another blast of flames, thin sheets of fire both longer than the distance from her wrists to elbows. Terese had maintained a Shield-Spell and cut through it when desired, the fire hitting the wall of liquid-flames to temporarily block her view of the woman in a red haze. When the fire dissipated, Calliestra was gone. 'Run then, coward!' Terese shouted. 'I will hunt you down for this, wretched callous witch!' Two-faced back-stabbing bitch! She took a deep slow breath to calm her nerves, and then looked to Jean in fear that the fires had touched her. She was fine however, sleeping soundly. She watched the rise and fall of Jean's chest with nervousness, her rage boiling like a kettle. She would have her vengeance! 'Guards!' she cried. 'Assassin in the chambers of the Snow Fox!—Guards! Sound the Alarm!' She roared with the might of a Hero of Will.

***

Wil charged through the demon ranks, swinging his golden axe; controlling the giant axe of golden lightning wielded by Dis Pater. They were still joined to create a warrior of shadows and lightning armour, that stood over fourteen-feet-tall. Heroes of Will charged around him on horses of fire and shadows, hacking with burning blades that stripped the flesh from demon bones.

Egron Blue-Fox was there, in shining navy armour; twin swords slashing with bursts of blue flames. The white beard of the Hero of Will glowed like the light of the moon. 'Ho there, Wil Martyr!' Egron shouted. 'You fight with Angel-Magic of the First Bloods! Long has it been since man and Battle Angel have joined spirit with flesh!' He hacked at the skull of a Nymloc and the creature was struck by a pillar of blue flames. He plunged both blades into the neck of an eight-feet-tall Boli-Kuldr—blazing blue bolts tore through its form—then sliced the bull shaped skull from its shoulders in a dark spray. Jarien Stone-Spear charged on a white steed to cut down a half dozen Jacoulra with his spear of white fire, emblazoned crimson armour and a coat of burning blue. Each time the spear impacted, a blast of light, like a small explosion, sent Jacoulra limbs and skulls flying.

Wil hacked again with his axe; waves of golden flame flew in thin sheets that vaporized demon flesh. He fought with a speed only possible due to the transformation, sending out walls of fire twenty paces deep! Bran was hacking through demon torsos with his blade of blue flames, his armour surging with white lightning via the Heart of Odin. Wil felt teron bathing his soul, electricity coursed through his veins; Jinn-Magic a surging dark corruption.

Most of the Heroes on the northern battlefield were still forming a wedge to blockade the defence lines on this side of Odin's Stairs. He slammed the axe haft into the earth, golden lightning rained from the heavens, a hundred thick tridents every half second, and the attack lasted over half a minute, demon bodies frying in the blasts. He slashed again with the axe, hacking through demon armour and flesh. He fought with savagery and passion to drive every demon from this land or grind them into dust.

Breeanna Golden-Arrow charged past him on a white mare, unleashing golden flames from her Lukrorian Bow of emerald light, her golden braid swinging behind her as she gave Wil an adorable smile. That woman was a true beauty, and he did not feel guilty in admitting it. Large blue eyes and pale skin that glowed like starlight, she wore an emerald breastplate and gauntlets, shining with the light of immortality. 'You do honour to the Old Blood, Wil Martyr!' she cried with an expression of pride; cutting down three Boli-Kuldr with golden arrows. The bull-horned beasts were charging before her arrows flew, but they fell with holes burnt through their black armoured chests. She unleashed similar fury against a pack of Nymloc before turning his way again to shout, 'Mo'tolianar Keresh'notolis!—Welcome, Black Shadow Wolf!'

***

Adem soared above the demon army, throwing down lightning blades, scorching the earth in eruptions that broke up packs of Boli-Kuldr and Rahkwel; scattering them in waves of flying body parts. His three Battle Angels still circled him, throwing down bolts of fire. Odin hovered above them, lightning coursing from his form into theirs, recharging their ki'mera and flows of teron. Then Adem sent to his Battle Angels; Join your Brothers on the killing fields. Make a mockery of this demon plague.

Arawn, Balor and Llew soared towards the northern end of the battle, landing in a cloud of smoke and blasts of coloured flame. The three Battle Angels slew a path with their blades, lightning reached out like burning claws to obliterate demon flesh. Odin continued to soar above Adem, the Lord of Lightning throwing down rods of white fire from the tip of his golden spear.

The rain continued to pelt down heavily, though Adem created a shield to block the downpour, lightning still coursed into the earth in blazing tridents from the vortex. The Heart of Odin was insurmountable power, though he feared it was not everlasting. He sent the question to Odin, who was temporarily joined to him through the kigare, asking; How long will this last? Odin replied in a voice of thunder, though the message was spoken to his mind; I am nearly at my limit, Dragon Son.

That message sparked great concern. Without the Battle Angels there was no hope of victory. Unless ... the idea developed in his mind at that moment, a stroke of genius he would call it. He would attempt something dangerous, something that may result in devastation for his entire force if not handled correctly, though he knew it was his last chance.

He swooped down onto the platform at the peak of Odin's Stairs. There, Arig Flame-Bow stood unleashing Angel-Magic; bathed in light. The flames flying from his Lukrorian Bow appeared to be liquid magma. He sensed the link between Arig and Hayley, joined with Tobin, Orion, Lydia and Elmira. It was a powerful link, increased dramatically by the Link between the Battle Angels, who were all joined to Odin's Power. Though, Adem needed a stronger link. He explained his plan to Orion, who stood poised with his golden blade, his face a mask of ecstasy and anguish. The force Adem felt was much stronger, though he understood the immortal's predicament, as he attempted to concentrate, while Adem explained.

Once Orion understood he relayed the message to the others, and moments later Adem felt the link pass to him, raging torrents mixed with a volatile corruption, and he sensed it from both teron and terael. Druantia's curse seemed equal to the corruption on teron. He still shared a link with Carl and Wil also, and at this level he felt that he might be ripped apart by Angel-Magic. But his plan was not complete.

He swooped down to land amongst the Ael Tarael that were gathered close to the southern wall of the Stairs, explaining his plan to Lauren Celman. Her gaze was focused, as she was part of a powerful link with over a dozen Ael Tarael in her chain. In short order, those twelve joined his chain, as the link was passed to him. Then word spread, and the other smaller linked chains of Ael Tarael began to pass their link to him also. This was achieved more slowly than he would wish, as they needed to allow a number of the Alit'aren nearby, and some Aldebrands, to extend the link to allow such a large chain.

His mind reeled at the strength of teron that flowed through him, by the time he had a chain of over a hundred souls. His vision would occasionally flare with white fire, as if Angel-Magic itself were welling up in his eyes. He could have joined more on the northern side of the battle, though he felt this was sufficient for his plan to work. He soared into the sky, over one hundred paces into the air, and began to throw down Blades of Odin that were one hundred feet long and six paces wide. The blasts of Angel-Magic ripped into the earth amongst the bulk of the demon ranks, two Blades, four, six, eight Blades of Odin!

The Lord of Lightning also threw down similar attacks, the link between them providing the First-Born Battle Angel with enough teron to turn this battle into a massacre. Blasts of white fire erupted into domes like small atomic bombs. Burning thousands of demons into dust, blasting thousands more flying in broken shards. More were buried under waves of earth and stone.

Adem saw to the north, Tarz and his riders were attacking the northern wedge of demons, Alit'aren throwing lightning bolts from horseback. Aldebrands fanned out on the flanks as the riders began to plough through the demon ranks, flaming arrows blasting from Lukrorian Bows. The northern demon army was being crushed between Tarz and the Heroes of Will, and the large figure of lightning that he sensed was Wil, joined with Dis Pater in some transformation, as was Carl on the southern end of the battle.

But this was not his genius plan. The idea had dawned upon him when he remembered the spell Orion had used on guards during their escape from El'Koto's imprisonment. He formed the spell, harnessing the full power of the link; then unleashed it onto the demon army. He watched as tens of thousands of demon bodies began to fall in waves, bodies bursting as dark blood flowed like grapes in the wine press. It was a terrible spell to use against a human, though once Adem saw it; he knew it would be vital in battles such as this.

The idea to form such a large link, to increase the damage of such Angel-Spells, had only occurred to him while he soared above the demon army. He used the spell on both sides of the battlefield, aided in the flows of teron by the presence of Odin, who also took part in the massacre. It was a bloodbath! The warriors and the Heroes of Will began to roar with pride at the sudden turn of events. He heard a new chant, sung by the Alit'aren and Ael Tarael, their voices enhanced by Angel-Magic to carry to his height.

The Saviours are Reborn!

Their Sacrifice is Sworn!

The Water Dragon Soars!

The Fire Lion Roars!

The Shadow Wolf spreads his Claws!

Ho! The Heroes of Will Arise!

Ho! The Battle Angels rule the Skies!

The Red Lion Roars!

The Wolf spreads his Claws!

The Blue Water Dragon Soars!

He floated there, above the battle, watching the remaining demons attempt retreat; screaming in terror. Relief was overwhelming him, the voices calming his nerves despite the raging force of corruption. Despite the flows of Angel-Magic he contained it would take some time to be able to attack again, but the enemy was retreating. Rahkwel and Boli-Kuldr were fleeing back through Hordrin's Corridor as fast as their masses could squeeze through the gap, Ael Tarael harrying them with boulders of flame. To the south, the demons began to scream as they fled, throwing down weapons and trampling those that tried to remain in rank. Tarz and his riders continued to plough through the northern forces. They had almost reached the point where Wil fought alongside a handful of Heroes of Will, Tarz bringing his men to a halt before they came into range of Wil's attacks.

The northern army of demons scattered around Tarz's riders, fleeing north but also pressing east and west as they fled to avoid lightning bolts unleashed by the Alit'aren on horseback. Heavy cavalry flanked the wedge of wielders with lances to skewer Boli-Kuldr and Rahkwel that stood in their path. Tarz's Alit'aren were also using his same spell to turn the defensive lines into pools of dark blood. Demons exploded from the inside out, entrails spilling onto the earth, breastplates and armour shattering.

It is over! We've won!

Suddenly, the Angel-Magic left him!

Odin vanished into the clouds with a bolt of light and then Adem's wings began to fall apart into flakes of blue fire!

He fell!

He was hurtling towards the earth, towards a thick patch of demons still trying to defend their ground. If the fall didn't kill him, he would be cut to shreds by Boli-Kuldr blades! These thoughts raced through his mind as he sent to Arawn; I'm about to die!

A surge of teron flowed through him via his connection to Arawn! He saw spiked hammers, dark pikes and Boli-Kuldr armour below. All he could manage was a Shield-Spell, buffered by a large cushion of Air-Magic. He crashed into the earth; dust clouds blurred his vision as he lay on his back close to blacking out. The Shield-Magic was maintained, though standing seemed impossible, until the Shield-Spell was struck by Boli-Kuldr scythes and axes!

He surged to his feet, the Shield-Magic holding while the dust settled to reveal the black plated armour and hulking figures of bull and ram skulled Boli-Kuldr towering above him. They snarled as they took turns beating down upon the Shield-Spell that surrounded him now as a globe. The blades struck blue-white liquid-fire to freeze on impact, sending cracks through the Shield-Sphere. Then the Boli-Kuldr parted at the snake-like drawl of a voice that said, 'Leave Highlander to me.'

He saw a dark-cloaked rider on a shadow-steed. Rain pouring down the Shield-Spell made the figure appear translucent. The Souljhin climbed down from his horse slowly, drawing a blade of blood red fire as it glided towards him like a cobra. He drew his own sword, glowing pale blue and reflecting off the Shield-Magic. He feared a Souljhin blade may easily penetrate the barrier while his strength was so low.

Something had gone terribly wrong.

When Odin vanished, so did the entire link, cutting him off from that limitless flow of Angel-Magic. He was so drained from exertion his own ability to wield was faded almost to zero. He sought the Tar'deith to achieve a state of calm, his breathing slowed. He prepared to move into the forms, waiting for the Souljhin to strike before knowing which form to choose. The shadow raised its crimson sword; he raised his own to defend the initial strike.

Red and blue fire blurred into view, though it was not from the clash of blades he had expected. Hulking shadows and light appeared, Arawn slashing with his crimson blade to cut the Souljhin in half! Llew and Balor were there also. The three Battle Angels cut down the Boli-Kuldr and Nymloc that tried to surge towards him. Arawn hovered on wings of shadow, moving like a bolt of lightning to grasp Adem by the shoulders, lifting him as the Battle Angel launched into the sky. He saw Balor and Llew hacking down more demons below as the ground moved away from him, and the scattering demon forces swelled in his vision. Teron left him; his vision became dark. I will save you Jean. I promise.

***

Carl slashed again with his spear of lightning; cutting down demons with sheets of flame. Shadow Hounds and Spirit Wolves leapt and clawed at demon flesh, pulling down scores of Rahkwel and Nymloc, severing skulls and tearing out throats. The heavily pouring rain was a result of his connection with Odin via the Heart. Only Odin was strong enough to reverse a change in the weather controlled by Fendinn. It still took Carl's knowledge to undo the damage created, to force the change of seasons back into a cycle. Though he had succeeded, he was certain of it! Odin had confirmed the fact, while he fought on this killing field turning demon ranks into chunks of flesh and bone. The change in weather had also required the link between Adem, Carl and Wil, as well as their Battle Angels, joined with Odin in the Link.

The amount of Angel-Magic needed to change the weather had diminished the Magic of the Heart of Odin drastically, however. Carl had hoped that he would be able to keep the precious artefact, to utilise again in future battles of this scale, though it seemed the necessary fuel provided to defeat this enemy would drain the source.

He swept his spear sideways, red flames to turn Nymloc and Jacoulra to pillars of burning ash. The Heart of Odin was a kind of Resting Point, though it held only a portion of Odin's Powers, different to the Resting Points of other Battle Angels. This one was created to summon Odin for a battle such as this, but it was also created to be found by the Sons of Odin. Carl could already sense that some of the changes it created in his abilities; would be permanent, and some of those abilities would definitely be of use.

He moved with inhuman speed, spear of lightning blurring as he spun the weapon in wide arcs, flames bursting twenty-paces through demon ranks. Thousands fell screaming in flames! He suddenly realised his strength in teron was more than doubled! Adem was building the link, joining with more Ael Tarael and Alit'aren to increase his Angel-Magic. What was he up to? This was more than dangerous. Then he saw Adem's intention, the ground around him began to erupt in flames; blades of blue flame flying from Adem's fists; Odin also throwing down blasts of white fire that wiped out thousands of demons in a blazing dome!

He sensed Adem's rage; Jinn-Magic was surely corrupting him to irreparable damage. Then he witnessed Adem's contempt for evil, as he unleashed the most destructive spell ever created. Boli-Kuldr armour began to pop like crushed berries, heads exploding in dark sprays like ripe melons under a sledgehammer. Nymloc began to collapse by the tens of thousands, Rahkwel and Jacoulra exploding from the inside, their fetid entrails spilling onto the muddy earth as rain washed rivers of dark blood across the landscape! It was shocking to witness, even used against beasts as foul as this. Though he had to admit, Adem had been clever in deciding to make this move. The enemy were retreating!

He hurled lightning and fire at the backs of the demons that tried to flee east and west, as well as south, though the only ones still standing were hundreds of paces away now. The land surrounding him was a flood of demon corpses. Still there was the danger Adem so recklessly ignored, then he felt it, Angel-Magic left him!

He flew through the air to land on his face in the mud, without even a trickle of teron to cushion his fall. He stood slowly, first to his knees; then dug his crimson spear in the earth to steady himself as he rose to his feet. A moment later he was picked up by Math Mathonwy and carried into the sky, towards the platform of Odin's Stairs.

In his left hand he still clutched the blue stone, though the crystal was now cracked! It no longer glowed, the artefact was broken. Adem had risked all of their lives with that drastic move. He may have saved them, though the impact of Jinn-Magic upon his psyche would bring a storm-cloud in future days. Drawing too much Angel-Magic also resulted in the destruction of the Heart and a break in the link. Carl's strength was depleted. He felt nauseous from the corruption, the sensation like being dipped in rancid acid. As he neared the platform, he saw Dis Pater's hulking figure of shadows carrying Wil to safety on golden wings. When they were both on the platform Wil said, 'Adem fell! He was nearly taken by the enemy, but then rescued.'

Carl saw that Wil was also nearly ready to collapse from physical exertion. The Sons of Odin were out of this fight, and the Ael Tarael and Alit'aren who had been a part of Adem's link would also need time to recover.

'What do we do now?' Carl asked Orion, who stood close by with golden sword hanging from his right fist. The former king stared at the retreating demons, a fierce burning in his large dark eyes. Perhaps the rage of a King, or perhaps the flames of madness. 'The Heroes of Will can handle things from here, Carl Wilder,' Orion replied.

But Carl was unsure about that, there were still thousands of demons trying to regroup on the field. If the bulk of the retreating army decided to turn back and fight, they would be easily swept aside this time. 'We must harry them into full retreat!' Carl commanded. 'Wil, Hayley and Arig, you three will ride beside me. We'll use the Heroes and the heavy cavalry to sweep through the southern battlefield. I'll take the Ael Tarael with us to soften their ranks.' Then he turned to Orion again, as he gave further orders, telling him to defend the northern field, with the heavy cavalry and the force of rebels led by Rodriel Tarz. 'The Alit'aren should be able to do as much damage to the north, as our Battle Angels can achieve. Go!' Everyone began to rush towards the stairs, Elmira, Lydia and Tobin following Orion, as well as Prince Lune who had joined them on the platform when the battle began to turn in their favour. 'Make them see we will never accept defeat!' Carl shouted, as he climbed into his saddle and made his way towards the front lines.

Those outer defence lines glowed with the forms of men and women riding horses of light and shadows, the Ghosts of Legend. First King of the Nordics, Rodin Cloud-Walker sat his mount with his spear of blue fire slanted. He wore a shimmering pale blue robe worked with gold and emerald runes, crimson armour; dark hair tied in a long tail braided down his back, a golden crown on his brow. His eyes were crackling dark fire—evidently the madness was infecting him too—a hooked beak of a nose and chiselled cheeks and jaw. Light emanated from his form; his flesh changed from transparent to solidity with every breath.

Carl pointed his spear as he shouted, 'The path of Heroes is paved in blood and sacrifice! You shall be our shelter from this storm!' Lightning flared, twin bolts falling to strike the field in the distance. Carl roared; booting his altherin colt into a charge. The Heroes of Will roared like lions; they charged to take the lead and flank him. Some rode ahead on their enchanted steeds, to carve a path through the demon hordes, lightning bolts flaring like sabres to blast the enemy into oblivion. Angus and Math soared overhead; smashing head-on into a snarling pack of Boli-Kuldr to unleash their fury.

Arawn's Fire Lions had vanished, as well as Llew's wolves. Dis Pater swooped down beside his Brothers, the dark shadow slashing through demon bodies with his massive golden axe. Flame Crows burst from his form, swooping upon the enemy in dark crushing fists. Math's Shadow Hounds began to regroup where the Battle Angels fought, pushing down demons to tear out their throats; biting off skulls in ravenous gulps. Carl's forces charged towards that pack of dark armoured demons. Heavy cavalry flanked the Heroes as they ploughed into a pack of over five hundred of the beasts.

Lances tore through armour and flesh, Boli-Kuldr falling with massive wounds across their chests and skulls; trampled under the riders, hacked down by the blades and arrows of the Heroes. The magic of the Heroes was a blinding force that surrounded them, demon flesh sizzled and burst in horrid sprays, melted and incinerated. They broke free of the masses; then turned for a second charge. The Battle Angels still fought in the centre of the Boli-Kuldr pack. Druantia's tangling vines soon joined the battle, and in the distance a half dozen of her Green Men sprouted from the earth and began to club at the regrouping demons. Emerald energies burst from the impact of the clubs, taking form of Green Dwarves; hacking with burning axes, swords and spears. Ki'mera flowed in waves like comet tails.

It was a good start.

***

Adem woke in familiar chambers, Terese leaning over him wearing a perplexed scowl. She glowed with the unnatural light of one of the Heroes of Will. Adem assumed it was a temporary state of being. 'Are you alright?' she asked, when he began to sit upright. He waved her away and stood to make his way to Jean's bedside. She was still in a deep sleep, the rise and fall of her chest suggested shallow breathing. She was pale too, deathly pale. 'Do you have the cure?' Terese asked.

Adem reached into his pouch to pull forth the small gold box and asked one of the nearby Aldebrands to fetch him some gloves. When the dark-eyed man returned with blue-gloves worked with silver-scrollwork on the back, he pulled them onto his hands and opened the box to remove the golden bracelet. He fastened the device around Jean's left wrist with a clip at the end of the little dragon's snout. He stood ... and waited; his heart in his throat with the guilt that welled up inside him. How could he betray Jean's love and devotion? He deserved to suffer.

He also had a terrible headache. Jinn-Magic had been so strong while he held that enormous link, he'd felt that he was madder than ever before. His skull was burning with fever, the heat of insanity. The sensation was familiar, like an unwelcome guest returning to dine. He knew a deep scowl was building on his brow, as he fought the illness that crept into his mind. He was descending into that pit of flames once more, his heart a cold stone.

Wake up Jean, please?

'This is your cure?' Terese asked with a touch of scorn. 'Why won't she wake then?'

'I was assured it would work,' Adem said. They waited, moments that seemed to stretch into infinity.

***

Jean stood at the bar pouring another shot for the grumpy man with the large crooked nose. He glared at her. He'd been bothering her for the entire five-hour shift ... or was it ten hours? She'd been working more and more lately, it seemed like being here was endless except for ... something wasn't right about this place ... no, just her imagination. The shot, tequila, she handed it to him; he grimaced before he slammed it down; wiped his stubbly chin.

The tunes were so loud it was hard to hear the orders. It was a double scotch on the rocks; two with cola, and another shot for the grumpy one. He held up two fingers, but she only poured him one, and waited till she'd made the other drinks before serving him. Her boss would fire her if she allowed another patron to get wasted. She liked her job; this club was cool. The music was always a bit before her time, but she knew these old tracks well, and her co-workers were nice people, especially Adem. But she wasn't seeing him anymore; he'd cheated on her with ... what was her name again? The Princess, yes that's right, that's what they called her. But why did they call her that again? Was it because they all thought of her as a spoilt little tramp? And where was Adem? She hadn't seen him at all tonight. Deep down she still had feelings for him. She groaned before leaning over to wipe up some spillage, then she signalled Tobin to get the grumpy one away from the bar.

Tobin was a tall bouncer; he leaned forward to listen as Jean told him, 'That one has had enough. He keeps giving me creepy stares, too.'

'I'll take care of it, Jean,' Tobin said, in a dark suit and tie with a blue cotton shirt, this was a respectable club where everyone had a uniform. His girlfriend Lydia was collecting glasses by the dance floor, strobe and coloured lights flaring in the darkness as the bass kicked in. She brought a tray to the bar and asked Jean, 'What's with the creep?' Jean rolled her eyes and leaned over to shout, 'I've never seen him here before, but if he approaches me again; he's out of here!'

'I'll tell Tobin to kick him out now if you like?' Lydia wore black leather pants, tight fitting, and a blue blouse half-top tied at the centre of her breasts.

'No, it's fine, leave it. Just one of those guys that make me uncomfortable.' Jean wore fish-net stockings, red, a blue mini-skirt and a white blouse. Her hair was tied up in a braid with a red bow. Lydia's was in twin braids tied with blue ribbons. That was their specially chosen uniforms. Elmira's was identical to Lydia's. The boss was also kind of a sleaze!

A moment later she turned around to see the grumpy one standing at the bar and glaring at her again. 'That's it, buddy, you're gone!' she shouted, as she glared back; then waved for the other head bouncer. Orion was there in a few quick strides through the crowd, suit and tie with a green silk shirt. The two men had been cautious around Jean lately since she ... what did she do? That's right; she had to punish them for ... for what? For something. Her memory was slipping tonight. Maybe she was tired.

Orion grabbed the man in the dark coat by the scruff of the neck and hauled him across the floor. The man struggled, and Orion was knocked and sent flying across the room! People began to scream and rush for the exit as the grumpy man became a figure of shadows, a blood red blade in its fist, with a golden mask like some kind of demon. The figure began to stride towards the bar. Jean was terrified, she screamed, but the music drowned out her voice.

Tobin was rushing towards the figure, he lunged forwards as the ... High-Servant, that's what they called him ... swung a fist to send the tall bouncer flying in the opposite direction. Lydia and Elmira stepped onto the dance floor. Jean's eyes bulged as the two women raised fists that flared with blue lightning. Both women threw blue bolts at the back of the High-Servant, the figure turned to regard them a moment; and then both women were knocked flying backwards by some unseen force.

The DJ kept playing, the music thumping as the High-Servant continued to flow towards Jean. She thought of running, though the crowds were still thick and frantic, she wouldn't get far. Then she heard something in the music, the melody changed, became stronger, and she felt that strength flow into her, as she remembered a name ... the Daughter of Thor!

She raised both hands and white lightning flew forth to blast the High-Servant, frying his cloak and pushing him back, one step at a time. She cried a name, 'Tanriel!' A figure of red and blue fire appeared in the air above the bar. Crimson spears flew to strike a shield that appeared around the High-Servant. The spears punched into the shield, flames erupted around the dome and within. She remembered now; this place was not real. The real world was in ... Kismeria ... the music changed again, as the coloured lights and strobe filled her vision, light flared all around her, wrapping her in its pale glow ...

***

Adem watched as Jean's hand began to move, fingers drawing into a fist! 'She's moving!' he said with elation, as Terese gasped in awe. He took her hand, and said, 'Jean, can you hear me?'

Her hand gripped his own, hard, then she ripped free of his grip and raised the hand to cover her mouth, as she gave a loud yawn, her eyes fluttering, then opening! Adem hoped it was just a reflex when she'd pulled free of his hand, though when her eyes rested on him, he saw her contempt for him burning blue. Terese moved to sit beside Jean, touching her brow and saying, 'He saved your life, Jean. This is no time for losing your temper. You forgave him, remember?'

'I'm so sorry, Jean,' he said, as Terese turned to face him and both women glared with burning gazes. 'Save your apologies, Adem Highlander, you have saved her, and she will forgive you. Though you have broken her trust, and that is something from which she may never recover. She needs rest for now, and hot bread and soup.' She turned to Jean to say, 'You must be famished.'

Jean pushed back the sheets to her waist, she wore a crimson silk coat and skirt, and she sat upright to expose white stockinged thighs, that she moved to hang over the bedside. 'What are you doing?' Terese asked.

'We must join the battle,' Jean said with strained determination, and then she pushed Terese's sheltering hand aside, and stood on legs that trembled with frailty. Terese wore a scandalised expression, as she snapped, 'You can hardly stand, girl! You're not going anywhere!'

'Our friends will die without our help,' Jean replied. 'Tanriel says there is little time to save them.' She then moved to the chest at the foot of her bed and began to draw forth her boots and weapons. Terese moved to take Jean by the arm as she said, 'I won't let you go, Jean.'

'I think she may be right, Terese,' Adem agreed. 'We cannot abandon them. It was a vast demon horde. They were retreating before I lost consciousness, though Arawn insists there is still a need to fight.'

'We'll send another legion to reinforce their ranks,' Terese suggested.

'There is no time for that!' Jean argued, pulling on her right-leg crimson-leather boot. 'We must go now, via Adem's teleport ability. You, me and Adem, that is all we will need.' She fastened her bow case over her back and began to buckle her sword belt to her waist. Terese made that familiar tsking sound; and then threw her hands in the air as she said, 'What point is there in arguing? You'll do it even if I forbid you!'

***

Wil slashed at the skull of a bull horned Nymloc, the blazing red eyes of the beast blurred in his vision as his golden axe cleaved through its jaw. The creature fell, as he planted the axe in the chest of a Jacoulra wielding a large scythe. Ikiel Bloodhammer, a Hero of the Harp; blocked the scythe attack with his crimson blade. Ikiel smashed the creature's skull to send it to its knees; other Heroes set it alight with arrows. Hayley rode close to his right, throwing globes of flame with her right hand as she clutched the reins in her left. He sensed her strength was draining too; she would need blood to replenish her vitality before long. Many of her personal guard all carried a full gourd to provide for her if needed. The thunderous hooves of the heavy cavalry swept past them as he slashed again at a ram horned Nymloc, the claws of the beast reaching to pull him from his horse. He booted the creature in the chest after cracking its skull in a spray of dark blood. He was so drained in Angel-Magic; he could not create a single flame.

Dis Pater and Bran were hacking through demons in the distance. Wil and his warriors were attempting to reach them to aid their onslaught. His courage sank when Dis Pater and Bran suddenly returned to his weapons in a flare of aqua and golden light. They had lost a vital key to defeating this demon horde. Math Mathonwy and Angus also returned to their Resting Points, leaving Carl also completely useless against these foes. The enemy began to surge in around them, roaring in their strange demon tongue, the Boli-Kuldr raising scythe shaped blades and dark axes. Then the Souljhin began to appear, the crowds of dark armoured bodies parting to reveal three shadow-cloaked figures mounted on dark steeds.

The twenty or more Heroes began to flank Carl and Wil, as well as Hayley. The bulk of their forces were surrounded by a larger demon horde further north, Ael Tarael and Alit'aren wielding lightning and flames to push back their attackers. The enemy had managed to divide their numbers, pressing in around them to crush them with muscle and steel. The Souljhin drew blades of flame and moved their steeds forward at a slow trot. Boli-Kuldr snarled like hungry wolves.

It was then that Wil noticed the immortal man who Carl had rescued from the portal of Odin's Stairs. The man in dark-blue-armour and a tattered grey- coat raised his fist—riding a white horse a few ranks behind Carl—and flames burst from his hand, emerald, aqua, crimson and golden beams. The Boli-Kuldr shielded their eyes as the Souljhin horses halted in their tracks. Then something astounding happened ... Everything began to move in reverse! The Souljhin horses began to trot backwards, the Boli-Kuldr also retreating though in an unnatural way that reminded Wil of watching a program in rewind.

Who was this man?

Wil watched in awe as the swarms of demons were swept away by the reversal spell, while Wil and Hayley and all in their circle were able to witness the miracle unfolding. The man's fist flared again, and flames erupted from the earth to spray the Boli-Kuldr and Souljhin, only these flames moved in real time. Wil raised his axe and shouted to his warriors; 'Retreat!'

The light still glowed in the man's fist, and the burning demons moved in slow-motion, allowing time for their horses to bolt to safety. When they arrived at Odin's Stairs and moved behind the front lines of defenders, Wil looked to Carl with a raised eyebrow. Carl simply shrugged his shoulders. He appeared just as baffled by the event.

Chapter 20

Falling Back

Tairark Vampire-King stood on the precipice of dark stone, that looked out over the edge of the great pit in the heart of Kerak'Otozi, the Resting Point of the High-Jinn. For the first time he could remember—at least since becoming one of the Hex-Warlords—Tairark was trembling with fear. The High-Jinn was furious with him. He had failed in his attempts to destroy the Sons of Odin, again, and that had been his last opportunity to prove his worth. But perhaps there would be another chance granted. He hoped for it; fearing his fate, an eternity enslaved in the Pits of Hell. Behind him stood Kelveroth Demonlord, still reeking of smoke from his recent ordeal against Carl Wilder. Kelveroth had also failed, which perhaps gave Tairark some leverage. If he could convince the High-Jinn to take Kelveroth's life, and spare his own—

Flames erupted from the deep pits below, a thick cylinder of fire bursting through the great funnel of stone, altering in colour, Angel-Magic of the Great Angels, revitalising the High-Jinn for the time of the Return. Though Tairark feared he would not live to see that day. He waited on the High-Jinn's commands.

Torkhan also stood behind him, along with Harkrost, eyes of flame behind golden masks, figures of cloaked shadows. They were the two who had aided him in his confrontation against the Sons of Odin at Morgrahl Kordahn. They too had failed, though he was almost certain that the blame would fall at his feet. The Hex-Warlords were not vital to the High-Jinn's plans, they were expendable like any other tool. His kind could always be replaced, there were many below him who would do anything to take his place.

He suddenly sensed the presence of others also strong in Jinn-Magic, and he turned to see Calliestra Shadow-Heart, dark eyed with flowing dark hair, a true beauty, her pouted lips suggested she would also face judgement this day. But it was the two male Hex-Keepers who he had sensed, also standing on the ledge of stone behind him. Two more of Calliestra's kind, one was Baidel; hook nosed with dark eyes, the other was Crelvar, pale eyes and a flowing white beard. They sheathed their forms in shadows and light, though he saw their shining breastplates beneath the effects. If so many of the Hex-Keepers had been summoned, perhaps this meant the High-Servants were being eliminated at this meeting. Or perhaps the High-Jinn would order them to serve under the lower ranking generals? Despite his disgust at the thought of the latter, it gave him hope of survival.

He waited, as sweat began to bead on his brow. Then the High-Jinn spoke to his mind, pain filled his flesh like thousands of white-hot needles. His mind was aflame as he heard the words; TAIRARK, YOU MISERABLE INCOMPETENT! YOU HAVE FAILED ME FOR THE LAST TIME! ENJOY YOUR ETERNITY OF SUFFERING! Tairark wished to plead forgiveness, but he was swept from the platform on a fierce wind that sucked him down into the depths of the tunnel. As he fell, his flesh began to melt under the heat of the rising flames. He screamed in agony as his life force began to fade. He would die slowly, the final gift of the High-Jinn. As he fell, he began to wonder what his life may have turned out like, if he had still served the forces of good. He wailed as his flesh was flayed from his bones. Still his spirit lived on; still he fell, into the flames of Hell.

***

Calliestra's heart was in her stomach after seeing Tairark sucked down to the pits of Hell. She began to panic that they would all pay for their failures. She glanced sideways to Crelvar; the fool appeared unshaken by the event, brimming with confidence that he would be promoted no doubt! She was not so blind to the displeasure of the High-Jinn. She began to sweat from the heat of the rising flames. Baidel also appeared confident of rising in the ranks; the pair of them would soon feel the brunt of Jinn-Fendinn's fury. She waited on the commands that would assure her of continued life. The High-Jinn then spoke, to each of their minds, though the sound seemed to erupt from the column of fire. REMEMBER WHAT YOU HAVE SEEN HERE THIS DAY! YOU LIVE TO SERVE ME! MY COMMAND IS ABSOLUTE!

THESE ARE MY ORDERS!

***

Carl watched the Boli-Kuldr and Rahkwel hordes swarm back towards the defence lines, surrounding Odin's Stairs. Their forces were still split in two, each half guarding one side of the Stairs, as well as the heavy cavalry, Heroes of Will and Ael Tarael and Alit'aren who took part in charges. Tarz still held the northern side, visible from the raised platform that Carl and Wil had returned to. Tarz was making sweeps through the northern field, dispatching demons with Angel-Magic. Ael Tarael on that side of the Stairs were hurling balls of lightning to cut down demons that got between them and Tarz's men. Keldaran reinforcements added to the carnage to the north, while the southern fields were beginning to swarm with demons again, with little to stop them, other than occasional heavy cavalry charges, led by the Heroes of Will.

Most of the demons had retreated. Carl's hopes were riding on an escape plan. A few thousand Boli-Kuldr and over a thousand Rahkwel were pressing towards the defence lines. They could be held off with Alit'aren Shield-Magic and hacked down slowly, as long as the Shield-Spells were maintained. Carl watched as archers filled the sky with dark shafts to rain down upon the front demon ranks, cutting off limbs and punching through breastplates. The Boli-Kuldr lines behind them roared and began a charge, lightning struck in two-dozen places; demon flesh exploding in bright flares. The Ael Tarael were tiring, soon they would be unable to create a spark of flame. The lightning broke up the charge, Alit'aren Shield-Spells springing up and swords moving in a blur of motion as dark-armoured demons staggered forward. Steel blades clashed; demons roared as they fell with gaping wounds.

Adem and Jean appeared in a flare of blue flame, standing on the platform with Terese Sapphire-Sword, shining with the light of enchantment. Arig also still glowed as he unleashed waves of flame from his bow. Orion and Tobin were there also; their wives still wielding lightning though they were also nearly drained. Prince Lune also stood behind those four, with Aldebrands and Ael Tarael at his side. Adem and Jean cried the names of their Battle Angels, Anwen and Tanriel appeared on golden and crimson wings, hovering ten feet above Jean. Fire Hawks swooped upon the demons; Tanriel throwing crimson spears that exploded into sheets of burning orange. Arawn, Llew and Balor soared from the sky on wings of flame, scattering Boli-Kuldr ranks when they landed ahead of the defence lines. They hacked through demon skulls with ferocious bloodlust, wedges of glowing sentinels rising around them to slew a path of demon flesh falling in sizzling chunks. Lightning bolts of bright ruby launched from the Battle Angel and sentinel blades, sheets of flame vaporized flesh and bone; ki'mera flowed amongst floating burning ash.

***

Adem was barely able to stand. He still held onto a trickle of teron, though it would barely be enough to create a decent Shield-Spell, nothing that could withstand an attack with Angel-Magic. Then his hopes fled when he saw two shadows appear in the sky, a warp of Air-Magic revealing their cloaked forms. The High-Servants pointed red blades towards him ... then something happened inside Adem's mind. It began when Carl found the Heart of Odin, that much Angel-Magic had altered him in a strange way.

Adem thought of a Shield-Spell, bolts of flame struck that Shield-Magic, made from a new source of power that came from Adem's imagination. It was a Shield-Spell of bullet proof glass two-feet-thick, he thought of it ... and the Shield-Magic materialized! Bolts of flame bounced off the Shield-Spell like a red claw. He wasn't certain what the material was truly, only that it had the same capacity to defend as a Shield of Air-Magic. The funny thing was, he didn't need to use Angel-Magic at all!

He was crouching when the bolts struck, the High-Servants tried again to break the barrier, claws of fire striking an invisible wall. Adem had a new thought; dredging gold and other precious metals from the earth. The metals moved in liquid form to take the shape of two Golden Soldiers standing eight-feet-tall. On the arms of these giant figures he placed Gatling guns, loaded with gold bullets six-inches long—he wasn't sure how he loaded those bullets with gun powder, he just thought, and it was. Flames burst from the spinning machine-gun-arms. The weapons roared like little dragons! The bullets struck the shields of the High-Servants, hammering them backwards from the force of impact.

Llew, Arawn and Balor flew to surround the two Hex-Warlords, blades of fire clashing in crimson blasts; sending out shockwaves. Adem kept the two Golden Soldiers at his side, and then he created more on the front lines. This time creating the beings without drawing the gold from the earth, once he made the first two, the rest appeared simply via his will. He loaded their weapons with lasers; cutting down demons as a roar of terror ran through their ranks. Within minutes the fields were covered with corpses piled high; Boli-Kuldr and Rahkwel torn to charred clumps. There was still some regrouping to the north. He imagined—and a great golden scaled dragon swooped down out of the clouds, soaring over the northern fields, breathing golden fire that swept through demon ranks in a raging conflagration.

The Keldarans and Tarz's forces began to head north, they were retreating. Adem heard Carl shouting, 'Retreat!' Those on the platform began to descend the staircase to join the southern force. Adem ran beside Jean, though she would not take his hand when he offered it. When they were mounted and heading towards the front lines, they were flanked by the Heroes and heavy cavalry. They rode at a steady gallop to clear the fields as fast as possible. Most of the horses were altherin, so they could move much faster if they had to, but for now they focused on staying in formation. The defenders of the northern half of the Stairs were also close behind. Horns were sounded to signal the retreat, and they allowed time for the other warriors to catch up.

Adem was thinking they might be free and safe when two more cloaked shadows appeared in the sky, though Adem sensed these two were not as powerful as the High-Servants. The fact that they could fly meant they were two of the male Hex-Keepers. The one with a white beard raised his fists; emerald lightning flew towards Adem and Jean. Adem thought ... Wall; a Shield-Spell of bullet-proof-glass blocked the strike. He thought ... Dragons! A green and a red scaled serpent swooped out of the air, the green clutching the bearded man in its jaws, the red-scaled-dragon extending claws to clutch the other shadow cloaked figure in a burst of speed. He didn't understand where the beasts came from, though he knew they would fall apart after moving some distance. There were limits to his new ability.

***

Jean watched in shock as the dragons appeared; clutching the two Hex-Keepers from the skies. Where had Adem learnt to create such creatures? Tanriel explained it was a part of the Prophecies of the Blue Water Dragon, that he would be able to create weapons of might, purely from his thought. She explained it was the Heart of Odin that had made this change possible.

They rode at a steady gallop, covering more ground in short order than a mortal horse could travel when pushed to its limits. They were approaching a large ditch in the landscape when a woman appeared in the sky. Her dress was white flame; hair like dark silk. Her dark eyes triggered a memory in Jean's subconscious.

It was the woman who had disguised herself as Verielle, and won her trust, before betraying her with that tainted bracelet. She realised now, when seeing the woman's true face, that this was the woman from her dream, the dream she had the night before meeting the Sons of Odin. Tanriel confirmed the woman's true name was Calliestra, one of the Hex-Keepers who served under the High-Servants. Calliestra raised her palms, and red lightning flew from her fingertips.

They hit another Shield-Spell created by Adem. She fought hard to stay on the saddle. She was too weak to create a sufficient Shield-Spell of her own.

The red lightning fractured the Shield-Magic on the outside, then a beast rose from the earth beneath Calliestra, a giant worm shaped creature with bronze scales and amber eyes! It clutched Calliestra in its jaws, pulling her down into the earth. Adem was becoming more powerful than Jean had ever thought possible. The idea of stopping him, if his madness took over, became difficult to imagine. The horses thundered forwards, Heroes of Will flanking them with heavy cavalry. The Heroes glowed with the light of the Everlasting, sending bolts of flame in blazing arcs; obliterating demons that stood in their path. They were going to escape.

Chapter 21

To Stand and Fight

Orion clutched the Harp of Souls, as the Heroes of Will returned to their Resting Point. Rodin Cloud-Walker raised his blue spear, before he vanished into the Harp. The Heroes roared before each became a pale vapour that flowed into the sacred artefact. Despite the ki'mera gained from the battle, the Heroes needed rest to recover from such extended times free from the Harp.

They were moving at a pace beyond mortal horses now, the land moving in a blur. Elmira rode beside him with Tobin and Lydia close behind.

The landscape changed before his eyes, from tan brown crusts to lush green fields, as they approached the walls of Korhad. They slowed when the horns of the watchtowers sounded; allowing the horses to move at a trot.

Orion placed the Harp in a saddle bag and clutched the reins with both hands, guiding his dark stallion towards the fortress gates. 'We were lucky that time,' he said to Tobin as they formed a line outside the city walls.

'Was it luck; or destiny?' Tobin asked.

'We will need an escape plan,' Orion replied. 'The High-Servants were determined to destroy the Sons this time.'

'Do we continue to fall back,' Tobin asked, 'or do we dig in our heels and face the enemy?'

'I fear we must retreat,' Lydia said. 'That last encounter was a death trap.'

'We must consider abandoning our armies,' Elmira put in. 'The Sons and the Daughter will endure so long as we are there at their side.'

'The White Snow Fox may not require our assistance,' Orion said, before his wife cut him off, saying, 'You will serve at my side, and do as I command, husband.' Orion bowed his head in submission. He knew that to argue would inflict a punishment worse than he wished to consider.

***

Adem felt his condition was beyond repair, though perhaps Healing-Magic and genuine rest would aid his recovery. As he moved through the gates of Korhad, and under the second portcullis, he wondered if Jean would ever forgive him. He glanced at her, when they entered the inner courtyard, and her eyes were direct, gazing ahead like a warrior of virtue. He asked her if she was well, and she replied, 'I'm as well as I may be.' A fitting response; given his betrayal.

'Will you join me for supper?' he asked.

'I'll be washing my hair, then turning in early,' Jean replied, with pouted lips. She did not look pleased.

'I'm sorry, Jean. If I could change the past, I would. But you need to know, I never forgot how much I love you.'

'You are sorry, Adem Highlander. Perhaps in time you will be less sorry.'

'As you wish,' he said after a sigh. He rode the rest of the way in silence; Jean left him at the Royal Stables and swiftly climbed the palace steps with Terese at her side. Adem waited for Carl and Wil. Hayley, Tobin, Lydia, Elmira and Orion also flanked them as they entered the palace. What worried him most was that link; that had brought on such extreme corruption from teron. He wondered if he would last the week without losing his mind. His Battle Angels had returned to their Resting Points. The High-Servants and the Hex-Keepers had not shown themselves since they left the battlefield. Things were back to normal, for the short term, though, when he arrived at the Royal Dining Hall with his entourage—

Isabelle stood in the dining hall, in a shimmering crimson gown, worked with pearls and sapphires upon the plunging neckline. She looked truly delicious, and he immediately felt guilty for thinking it. Her large dark eyes fixed on him, burning with passion and rage at the same time. 'You said you would return to me,' Isabelle said in a dangerous tone. An angry princess was always something to be avoided. 'You said we would see each other again when you finished your mission. I waited, and then I learnt that you'd returned to the White Snow Fox. I understand there was some ... urgency. I am willing to overlook this breach of trust, considering the circumstances.'

'Isabelle, we really need to talk.' He held his hands out at his sides in a calming gesture, but she pointed a finger at him directly, and said, 'You will learn that I do not allow men to twist the truth when they speak it to me. You will eventually understand that I will not permit a fault in your duty to me.' Carl stepped forward and said; 'The situation became ... complicated, Princess Isabelle. Though, I wonder, how did you arrive here so fast?' Adem silently thanked his friend for having the initiative to change the subject.

Isabelle raised a pointed black eyebrow, as she replied, 'I rode with my retainers as fast as the winds would take me.' She gestured to the two tall immortals standing several paces away. One had long dark hair and eyes, the other golden hair and eyes of pale blue. Both wore dark-leathers and crimson-breastplates, and both had hands hovering above their sword hilts, as if anxious of a fight breaking out. Only Aldebrands could be so paranoid in the midst of a tempestuous female. 'The horses should recover with a few weeks rest,' the dark eyed one commented, which brought a scandalized look from Isabelle. The man bowed his head in humility. Then the worst possible thing that could happen occurred. Jean entered the room.

***

Jean viewed the Royal Dining Hall with an air of disapproval, her disdain apparent for the woman who stood at the far end of the room. The hall was long, with vaulted ceilings of pale stone, hunting tapestries lining the grey brick walls, though her attention was all on the Ruhalden Princess. Jean wore a pale blue silk gown, chosen to compliment the modest diamond earrings and necklace provided by Prince Lune, all in an attempt to win back Adem's affections. She wondered how long she would string him along like a lost puppy.

Isabelle was shockingly beautiful, much to her dismay, large-dark-eyes and silken-black-hair falling to her waist. Jean's hair was in her usual braid, Terese's a dark braid. Terese wore an emerald dining gown, studded with small pearls and gems. They would have made an impressive entrance, and Jean held her spine erect as she faced off against the scowl upon Isabelle's visage. 'It seems I have arrived at a bad time,' Jean started with. 'Perhaps I should return later when Lord Adem has had sufficient time to sow his oats.'

'Jean, it's not like that,' Adem said awkwardly, before Isabelle spoke over him, saying, 'Yes, I think that would be best, Daughter of Thor.' Jean almost scoffed at the audacity; to use Jean's Holy title with such frivolity while requesting obedience from this spoilt brat. She considered at that moment that her role as leader would allow her to discipline this provocative girl, though she kept her temper in check as she said, 'On second thought, perhaps this is a good time to break the ice on a subject that needs clarifying. Lord Adem has given himself to both of us, so it seems prudent to ask, who will he choose for his steadfast commitment?'

'I agree entirely,' Isabelle said. 'It would not be fair to allow either one of us to feel that we are being misguided by untrue emotions.'

'I agree, princess,' Jean said, in a careful tone.

'Please don't turn this into an argument,' Adem said, which earned him harsh glares from both Jean and Isabelle, while Lydia and Elmira cupped hands over their smirks.

The two immortals beside Isabelle appeared restless, hands above sword hilts. Jean was flanked by six of her own personal guard—all Immortal Aldebrands—one of them holding her enchanted sword, another held her emerald bow. Now was not a time to be anywhere without her Battle Angels close at hand. She felt confident she could handle this little tramp if things got out of hand.

***

Isabelle held her spine very straight, standing as tall as she could muster. The Daughter of Thor's presence had unsettled her to some extent, though she was the Ruhalden Princess! She would not show the slightest sign of intimidation. 'You must realise that the relationship between Lord Adem and me is quite serious,' she began. 'We have formed a special bond, something that cannot be undone by prophecies and duty.'

'You make a fine argument,' Jean replied. 'What do you propose as a solution to this ... indiscretion?' Isabelle controlled her nerves, to hide a scandalised expression. The sheer nerve of this woman to insinuate that her relationship with Adem was nothing more than a passionate affair!

'I suggest we allow Adem Highlander to choose.'

'Perfect,' Jean agreed. 'Well, Adem, what do you have to say?' Isabelle saw that Adem was displaying the behaviours of a cornered mouse. He looked like he might collapse, either from exhaustion or from panic! Despite this, she decided to press him further on this issue, asking, 'Well, Adem, what of it?'

'I made a terrible mistake,' Adem began, before Isabelle shouted in outrage, 'A mistake was it?' Her two Aldebrands unsheathed their blades, one glowing crimson; the other pale blue. The six Aldebrands flanking the Snow Fox drew blades in a sound of sliding steel, as Adem shouted, 'We can work this out as adults!' But Isabelle's rage would not be subdued so easily. 'How dare you call our relationship a mistake?'

'I want a chance to explain myself,' Adem pleaded, as the Aldebrands stared each other down like wolves waiting to strike. This brought more humour to the lips of the former Queens of Tarvel and Nordhel, shielding their mirth behind cupped hands that did not smother their giggles. Their husbands appeared to be on the brink of action; yet holding to the wishes of their leader.

Jean smiled also, then she raised a hand expressively, as she said, 'Adem is right, there is no need for violence. This can be settled with calm and reason. The Blue Water Dragon is clearly conflicted. Let us agree that when it comes to a pretty face, he loses all sense of rationale and common decency.' Isabelle was surprised to feel a smile blossom on her own face at that comment. It struck so very close to the truth. She suddenly realised she very much admired this woman who was destined to save the world. The White Snow Fox would make a great leader; she was strong willed and courageous, though also light-hearted in defeat. Isabelle would have Adem Highlander. Ultimately, this woman would have to face that. 'You make a clever point, Snow Fox. I apologise for my rudeness. Perhaps we should adjourn to more discreet surroundings to discuss this issue further.'

'I would be delighted, princess.' Why did Jean Fairsythe have to refer to Isabelle's title with such simplicity? 'Let's go then,' Isabelle said, with a wide grin, and then she began to glide towards the woman who she would challenge to her dying day. They were equals, but Isabelle would always find a way to have the upper hand.

***

Adem breathed a sigh of relief, when the two women left the hall with their entourage. However, he also felt the familiar scowl creeping onto his face, as he considered what they would discuss. What was he going to do? He loved Jean, more than any other woman, but he sometimes thought he loved Isabelle just as much. He began to wonder if he would survive the wrath of those two women, once they knew the other halves of the truth. He had to focus on the bigger picture; the enemy was determined to destroy them, more so now than they had ever been. They would return, soon, and he would need to be ready for them. Despite this urgency, his rumbling stomach allowed him to sit and pick at the feast of roasts, fruits and breads. There were cheeses too; there were always cheeses at a Kismerian banquet.

The others took their places along the polished oak table, Carl, Wil and Hayley to his right, Orion, Tobin, Elmira and Lydia across from them. He made a sandwich of duck and cheese, in dark rye, and sat chewing, as conversations started up. Carl and Wil spoke about the battle, discussing the time they'd both combined their flesh with the spirits of their Battle Angels. It was a remarkable discovery; though they both seemed convinced they would not achieve this feat again, without finding another source of Angel-Magic equal to the Heart of Odin.

Tobin and Orion spoke in whispers, only discernible to their immortal ears, and those of their wives, who also whispered to one another. His own hearing had improved slightly, apparently as a result of working with teron. His sight was better too; he noticed more details even without Angel-Magic in his veins, patterns, colour vibrancy, textures on wood and stone.

What of the enemy? Why had they become so desperate? They were obviously under new orders; eliminate the Sons at all costs. Why would Jinn-Fendinn risk such a defeat by leading them to the Heart? Perhaps the idea wasn't to destroy the Sons of Odin, but to push them into retreat, each time forcing them to wield Angel-Magic. The result of this over time would surely also push the Sons into irreversible madness. That had to be the answer, though perhaps there were two agendas on Fendinn's list. Perhaps he feared the Sons enough to try to wipe them out, or alternatively he could twist their minds until they became his willing servants. Adem shuddered at the very thought of it. He would never betray these people. So long as he held true to his morals, he would always know the difference between good and evil.

Hold true to your faith, Adem Highlander, Arawn sent. You are the Dragon. You have the power to destroy evil forever. The last was echoed by Balor and Llew.

'What do we do now?' Carl asked him.

'We do whatever is necessary,' Adem replied. 'We also need Tarz and his men. We could reason with Jean about a truce between us and them. So far I feel everyone has been expecting us to lead them to victory.'

'I fear another attack is imminent.'

'I agree. The guard is on full alert, though they may infiltrate these walls. My plan is to defend and retreat, fight and fall back again. It seems the only way to survive.' An Aldebrand entered the room, in dark armour and red boots. Caladen was his name, with long dark hair tied in a tail. This one had the look of a startled panther, as he said, 'There is someone here to see you, Adem Highlander.' Adem glanced at the man to ask, 'Who is it?'

'He says his name is ... Tairark Vampire-King.' Adem sprang to his feet, as startled murmurs filled the room. Tobin and Orion unsheathed their blades; Lydia and Elmira were also on their feet. Caladen now looked like a cat that had stumbled upon a pride of lions. 'There is no cause for alarm,' Caladen explained. 'This man, if he is Tairark, does not take his usual form. He also says that ... he is here to make peace.' Adem thought his eyes might fall out of his head in shock.

'What does he look like?' Carl asked.

'He appears ... not himself today,' Caladen replied, his expression revealed amusement. 'Shall I show him in?'

'Be ready for a trap!' Adem shouted. 'The enemy could strike at any moment! Orion, Tobin; take your wives and protect Jean and ...' he stumbled over the name, '... and Isabelle. Go now!' The four left the room swiftly, leaving Adem, Carl, Wil and Hayley with Caladen and the three other Aldebrands, who stood along the far wall. Those three also had their blades drawn, ready for anything. 'I trust he is well guarded?' Adem asked in a more controlled tone, to which Caladen responded with a careful nod. Adem was fastening his bow case straps when he said, 'Show him in then.'

Caladen called, 'Enter!' Two rows of Aldebrands began to file into the large space at the front end of the hall. Twelve Alit'aren entered in all, with Aldebrands and soldiers filing in to spread along the tables and around Adem and his companions. When close to forty people filled the room, two more Aldebrands in blue armour, and six Ael Tarael, led a tall immortal with short white hair and grey eyes. He wore simple attire, dark coat and trousers with brown leather boots, a silver hilted sword at his waist in a plain brown leather scabbard.

'This man could not possibly be Tairark Vampire-King,' Adem said. 'Who are you really?' He knew it couldn't be Tairark in disguise, although this man was exceptionally strong in Angel-Magic. He was not wielding at this time—due to the Shield-Trap held by the Ael Tarael—nor did Adem sense any resonance of Angel-Spells. So, it was not a spell to imitate tanned skin and an appearance of health. The skin of the Hex-Warlords looked similar to pale grey stone, and his eyes did not glow like lanterns. Despite these facts the man said, 'I am who I claim to be. I come in peace. I wish to reconcile with my people, and to assist the Sons of Odin and the Daughter of Thor.'

'That claim is ridiculous!' Adem exclaimed. The imposter's thick grey moustache bristled with a cautious expression. 'Although I sense your strength in Angel-Magic, you could not possibly be who you say you are.'

'I understand your confusion,' said the man, who spoke in a deep tone typical of immortal men, rather than the rumbling thunderous voices of the High-Servants. 'But I have died and been reborn. I do not know why Jinn-Fendinn has chosen to give me new life. I only know that he killed me when he was finished with my service. I am an outcast amongst my kind; I will be hunted by them and tortured for eternity before they kill me again. My only option is to seek your protection.'

'You ask for my what?' Adem shouted in outrage and amazement. 'If it truly is you, you are responsible for the curse upon terael! You also turned Wil's wife into a vampire!'

Wil shouted, 'For that, I will gladly decapitate you!'

'I must warn you that you are all in great danger,' the man said. 'Even now the enemy plots to infiltrate this keep and slaughter innocents.'

'How do you know this, if you no longer serve them?' Carl asked.

'I have my sources. I can help you.'

'When will they attack?' Adem asked.

'At any moment,' he replied, which brought startled murmurs from most men in the room. Blades were unsheathed. Aldebrands began that familiar talent to stare in every direction at once.

'How will they achieve this?' Carl asked.

'Souljhin will infiltrate the keep, hundreds of them.' The guards and soldiers began to shout, in the room and the hallway. Orders were shouted mostly, though some were cries of sheer panic. 'An attack is imminent!' they cried. 'Sound the alarm! Protect the White Snow Fox!' The six Ael Tarael showed their terror. An army of Souljhin could do more damage to their forces in closed quarters than the threat of an entire Demon Legion. Adem stared at the pale-eyed man as he asked, 'And you will help us?'

Most of the men in the room stood waiting, until the man bowed low and replied, 'It would be an honour to serve. My life is in your hands.' Adem considered the possibilities. If this man spoke the truth, he could prove a valuable asset. He was equal in strength to Adem, though Adem's new abilities would give him the advantage. However, if he let his guard down around this man—

'Souljhin are in the keep!' a man shouted, down the hallway, followed by cries of, 'Sound the alarm! The castle is under attack!' Surprisingly, the man wore a calm expression, as if he was neither afraid nor amused by the situation.

'Release the Shield-Trap,' Adem ordered. 'But stay linked; and be ready to hold him again.' Despite his strength, these six Ael Tarael should be strong enough to form another Shield-Spell even while he held Angel-Magic. Should he send for more just in case? No! There was no time! 'Follow me,' he told the man. He marched through the parting crowd with Carl, Wil and Hayley close behind.

He saw Arig when he entered the hallway. 'Is Jean safe?' Adem shouted.

'I thought she was with you,' Arig said. Adem began to charge down the hallway with shouts of panic all around him. Some of the hallways he passed down were on fire, tapestries and paintings licked with orange flames. He rounded a corner to see a tall dark-cloaked figure standing before him. A wicked red blade in its dark gauntleted fist.

Adem thought, and the creature burst into white hot flames. The heat was locked in by Shield-Magic that also limited the amount of oxygen supplied to the fire. In seconds the flames vanished leaving no sign of the creature. Carl and Wil were at his side, as Hayley asked, 'How did you do that?'

***

'So, you love him more than anything,' Jean said, not as a question, but as the matter of fact she had discovered, through her interrogation of this painted hussy! She had rarely been jealous of other women, perhaps because she had never fought over the same man before. As a young woman she met men and had her fun, then moved on when things got too complicated. This time she was ready to battle for the man she loved. Isabelle was despicable in her apparent desires for Adem; she seemed more than halfway obsessed! 'I understand your feelings for Adem, I must admit, he is a hopeless romantic,' she wore a calculating grin. Isabelle responded with, 'Indeed, Adem has trouble with his emotions. His professed love for two women is proof of that.'

'Are you claiming that his love for me is untrue?'

'Oh no, forgive me, Snow Fox,' this time Isabelle appeared to be timing her words. 'I am sure Adem does love you, he has told me as much. However, he cannot deny his feelings for me also; and more than that, he has consummated those desires.' So that was her game, rub it in Jean's face for a while! Jean almost stammered as she replied, 'That may be true, princess, but Adem and I also have great responsibilities. We are unified in a great cause. Besides that, we are also joined through the kigare. I know how much he cares for me. Can you really say the same?' That was the master stroke, that changed the little woman's face to a series of mixed emotions, her tan skin suddenly turning quite pale.

'I know ... that is to say, I am certain my feelings are reciprocated,' she seemed to choke on the last word.

'But how can you ever be sure?'

'You play a cruel joke on me, Daughter of Thor. A clever but manipulative game! I will not be defeated by this. I will ... I will join with him through the kigare also!'

'But you have no Battle Angels,' Jean said, a slight sneer on her lips. Isabelle brushed her hands down her crimson skirt, as if it were crinkled, as she replied, 'Perhaps my father will buy me one,' the spoken thought brought her index finger to her chin, in contemplation. Jean nearly burst out laughing before she replied, 'It must be joyous to have whatever you want at your very request, or command. Perhaps such an upbringing explains why you will not give up the bone once you sink your teeth in.' That scandalised expression returned to Isabelle's face, something Jean had seen a number of times in the last half-hour that they conversed, as she asked, 'You dare insinuate that I am like some wretched bitch?'

'It was simply a metaphor, princess. I implied no such thing,' Jean had perfect control of her emotions. She would not lose this argument—

Shouts in the hallway, boots thumping! The alarm bells sounded in her head. 'We're under attack!' Terese had unsheathed her blade, it glowed pale white. 'Quickly, princess, get behind me!' Jean also had her sword drawn, passed to her by one of the Aldebrands. The other fastened the bow case to her back, and she waited as the shouts grew louder.

'The keep is under attack!'

'Sound the alarm!'

'Protect the White Snow Fox!'

The doors burst open, and Aldebrands and Alit'aren poured into the room, followed by Orion and Tobin, blades glowing golden and pale green. Lydia and Elmira entered with faces of controlled fury. 'Souljhin are infiltrating!' Elmira shouted. 'Quickly, we must reach a more secure position.'

'Where can we hide?' Isabelle asked with a look of terror.

'We will not hide,' Jean said with rage building. 'We will drive them out.'

'There are too many, Jean,' Lydia said. 'We must flee.'

'What of your son?' Jean asked.

'His place is here, to defend his fortress,' Tobin replied.

'No!' Jean snapped. 'We stand and defend. Retreat is our last option.'

'The Hex-Warlords are here,' Elmira said.

'We have an army!' Jean cried. 'I will not leave women and children to be slaughtered! Adem can face them. We'll support him.'

'It is too dangerous!' Isabelle screamed. 'Do not put Adem in such a position, I beg you, Daughter of Thor!'

'Call me Jean, just plain old Jean,' she spoke with perfect calm. 'Follow me,' she said, as she began to march towards the door. The poor girl was sobbing. Adem had made a poor choice when he got mixed up with this one.

In the hallway she heard shouts and women screaming. She sheathed her blade; drawing the emerald bow. Tanriel would be of better use in these corridors. She no longer needed to hold either enchanted weapon to summon her Battle Angels. Aldebrands flanked her as Alit'aren raced down the hall; crossing swords with three dark-cloaked figures. The Souljhin hissed like serpents, cloaks flowing like shadows; eyes of menace glaring beneath dark cowls. Energies burst from the weapons with each strike.

'Tanriel,' she breathed the word; crimson spears plunged into the Souljhin. Fire stripped flesh from bone; skeletons collapsed in bursts of glowing ash. The moment they vanished, four more appeared at the end of the hall. Four spears punched through dark armoured chests; ruby flames vaporized muscle and bone as shrill screams tore the air.

***

Adem gestured towards two Souljhin lurking in the shadows, both screamed before they fell to the floor in severed chunks. That was achieved by simply creating laser blades layered within their physical presence. He'd discovered a number of creative new ways to destroy his enemies. A shadow cloaked figure appeared before him now, hovering in the air; silver shadows around his form. The figure raised both hands to throw a bar of green fire—

Adem blocked the attack with his thought, and then sent a bar of blue flame that had the face of a dragon. The jaws bit down on an unseen shield. He made a vortex appear behind the figure, leading to a world of fire. He tried to push the figure into the vortex with a blast of wind, but the man vanished in a warp of Air-Magic. That was the best Adem could manage, force them into retreat. He was running out of ideas.

He continued towards Jean's chambers, knowing she would be trying to reach him too. Two more Souljhin swept down the hallway like cloaked serpents, as a figure of shadows appeared floating above, wielding blue lightning. Adem deflected the attack, throwing a bar of green fire at the floating figure. The two Souljhin moved towards him, raising tainted blades. Golden arrows hit the first; the other was struck by a bar of red flame, burning a hole through its chest. That had been Carl, the golden arrows either Hayley or Wil.

His focus was on the floating shadow that he hammered with blasts of flame. A Shadow Hound appeared, charging forward to pull the other Souljhin to the floor; biting off its skull. The floating figure threw a blue bolt at one of the tall mirrors lining the hallway, the mirror rippled, as if the surface was water hit by a stone. The cloaked figure flew into the mirror! Adem wasn't certain why, but he gave chase, leaping into the shimmering surface of the mirror to land on the other side. He heard shouts behind him before he passed through, and he turned back to see Carl and Wil leaping through after him. Hayley remained on the other side, battering at the mirror that was now a solid surface. Alit'aren and Aldebrands rushed to surround Hayley; they too peered into the mirror with shocked expressions.

'So, we're trapped in here?' Adem asked.

'Until I can find a way to get us back,' Carl said, as he tapped at the mirror surface with his spear. 'Why did you run after him, Adem?'

'I guess I wasn't thinking straight. Why did you follow?'

'To protect your back,' Wil said, at almost a growl. He would be less than pleased to be separated from his wife. 'What if we break the mirror?'

'That could leave us trapped here forever,' Carl replied.

Adem looked around the dark space that surrounded them. This place wasn't an exact reflection of the real world. The hallway was the same, but the light was different, appearing in patches in the distance like starlight. Then the hallway began to warp like a flowing river, changing into pure darkness. Moonlight appeared, revealing a small seaside town. Tiled roofs of dark greens and blues, the walls of the buildings were mostly bluestone.

The sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs was peaceful, though Adem was still on edge. He knew nothing of this place, and his Battle Angels had gone silent again, they seemed nervous—

A horn sounded, a Boli-Kuldr horn, to the east! They stood on the western side of the village, the windows dark within the houses. They heard hooves stomping, a Boli-Kuldr horde charging towards them. 'I say we split up,' Adem suggested, 'and try to surround them.'

His friends gave short nods; then Wil raced towards the northern side of the town. Within moments he was lost from sight. Carl's spear glowed crimson, then blue light surrounded his form. A moment later, he'd vanished!

The hooves grew louder, Adem moved to stand within a courtyard, surrounded by two and three storey rooftops. Shadows were cast across the paved stone, hiding the bulk of the demon force. With Angel-Magic enhancing his vision he was still able to estimate their number, three hundred or more in black armour, wielding black scythe shaped blades.

Some had eyes that glowed like lanterns, others were flame red.

He lashed out with his blade, still holding the link. Blue lightning blasted outwards in thin sheets, as he danced through the forms, cutting through the armour and flesh of the front lines. Raging blue flames roared through the ranks over six bodies deep. The beasts howled in outrage; some fell with fatal wounds. Though the rear lines began to charge, pushing their pikes forward until Adem had to retreat.

He turned and looked to a nearby rooftop. For some reason he knew he could reach it, even though it was two storeys high. He crouched; then leapt. He launched into the air, reaching four feet higher than the base of the rooftop, and he seemed to float into landing on the dark blue tiles.

The eight-feet-tall Boli-Kuldr easily pulled themselves up onto the first rooftop, dozens of them clawing at the second level. Adem hacked at their skulls, blue flames scorching flesh; they collapsed in melted piles. He leapt and soared across a four feet gap; landing on another rooftop. He ran across the blue tiles as more beasts hauled themselves up and gave chase. The next house had three levels, he leapt, and his foot touched the second level with the first landing. He pushed his heel, soaring higher to land on the third level. He looked down to see Boli-Kuldr scrambling up the second level.

He gestured towards the creatures, using his thought ... Fire-Magic. The beasts burst into flames; this time Angel-Magic was not necessary. The problem with his new ability was that it could be more draining than teron depending on what he created. Fire-Magic was less draining, though summoning dragons or other creatures to devour his enemies was similar to working with a large link.

He ran on across the rooftop, leaping and landing on a second level building of green tiles. Boli-Kuldr were already standing on this level. He slashed with his blade, lightning bolts punching into their chests in blue arcs. Carl and Wil must've been distracted by more demons. He ran on to try to locate them, leaping through the air like a giant grasshopper.

***

Tanriel hurled four crimson spears at two Souljhin. Two spears punched into each of their dark scaled breastplates, garnet webs spreading across their flesh; they burst into burning dust. The Ael Tarael were focused on suffocating the flames that swept through hallways. If they didn't control the blazes soon, they may lose half the castle. Evacuation had already started, though some charred bodies were discovered when putting out the flames. Some were Ael Tarael. She fought to control her nerves as a burning pain filled her throat. She coughed also, as the smoke was thick. She assumed Carl would know some way to avert the smoke from entering her lungs, but reports said Adem, Carl and Wil had vanished. Through a mirror of all places!

Hayley was sketchy in her explanation; the woman was half traumatised at the prospect of losing her husband. Her pregnancy was beginning to show also. Rumours of the enigma would spread throughout the lands; a vampire with child. Jean was concerned by what the child may look like, and what the child may become.

Two more Souljhin appeared, dark cloaks and blades that glowed with crimson runes. Spears punched through their breastplates, flames erupting through their flesh. As the two burning skeletons collapsed, Calliestra appeared again in a warp. This time the woman wore silver shadows like a gown, though her face was exposed, white light burning in her eyes. Tanriel threw a spear that struck a blue Shield-Spell, created by Calliestra. Jean pushed her open palm at the woman and a wave of emerald flames struck the Shield-Sphere, pushing the woman back. She was on the ground this time, which suggested to Jean the woman may be tiring.

Terese swore vengeance and moved to attack, but Jean held her back with one arm as she pushed again with her right hand. Another burst of flames struck the Shield-Spell, as two more crimson spears flew from Tanriel. The spears struck the Shield-Sphere and punched halfway through; the tips of the spears froze a hand's length from Calliestra's heart. Calliestra gestured, and the floor began to ripple like a wave, flames burst from the stone floor. Jean created a Shield-Wall, the wave of fire and stone rubble struck, and she felt a strong push from the force of the attack. Luckily Tanriel had reinforced the Shield-Magic in time, a wall of liquid-flame repulsing chunks of burning stone.

Her Battle Angel began punching towards Calliestra, balls of orange flames striking the Dark General's Shield-Magic with fury.

That was a close call, Jean Fairsythe, Tanriel sent. Now I'm angry! Jean sensed the truth of that comment through the kigare, Tanriel was fuming. Blasts of flame hammered Calliestra backwards, Tanriel hovering above Jean. The orange flames fell like shooting stars; Calliestra struggling to repel the attacks. Jean's Aldebrands looked eager to move in to surround the enemy, though the hallway between was a pile of burning rubble. Retreat! Tanriel sent. I'll hold her off here.

Jean ordered the retreat; turning to move quickly down the hallway, with Terese on one side and Hayley guarding Isabelle close behind. Her Aldebrands and Alit'aren protected the rear of their retreat; others fanned out ahead. Two more shadow cloaked forms appeared. Jean cried, 'Anwen!'

Anwen turned the Souljhin to vapour, blasts of white fire flying from her fingertips. Her second Battle Angel wore a red coat and skirt with blue boots, crimson armour and hair of golden flame. Jean wondered if Anwen had been observing her for fashion tips!

Another shadow cloaked figure appeared at the end of the hall. This one was male, a close-cropped dark beard visible within the cowl. He raised his fingers and blue lightning struck another Shield-Wall, this one made by Anwen and Jean. Her Battle Angel threw bolts of white fire at the man, striking his Shield-Sphere in golden flares. Then the tall immortal with the white moustache stepped up beside Jean, she had never seen the man before, and Tanriel and Anwen would not give up anything they knew of him. The fact that he'd been guarded by six Ael Tarael suggested he was dangerous, though he'd aided Jean a number of times already.

The man waved a hand towards the cloaked figure, and the enemy was pushed back by an invisible force. Then the white-haired man crushed his fingers into a fist, and the cloaked figure let out a hollow wail, then vanished in a warp. That was their method, surprise attacks; then they would flee. This new ally was strong in Angel-Magic if he could best one of the Hex-Keepers. Jean was more than curious, and she would get her answers as soon as things settled down.

For now, they focused on putting out fires, the hallways were still filled with smoke and flames at every turn. Female servants were often seen running in terror. Jean's entourage was a sign of hope for those women; each time they found another they would lead them to safety. Anwen and Tanriel returned to their Resting Points as Jean continued to patrol the castle. She used some of their strength to assist in putting out the fires. She was passing through a hallway of smoking tapestries when a soldier rushed towards her, saluting before he shouted, 'The Hex-Warlords are burning the Royal Libraries!' Jean suddenly felt a complete fool, for not realising the intent of the enemy sooner. If the libraries were destroyed, there would be no ancient knowledge to assist in finding a cure.

'How many are burning?' Jean asked the tall immortal.

'All of them,' replied the man. 'They used Jinn-Magic to set whole vaults aflame.' Jean cursed under her breath. She feared these attacks would occur across the Free Lands until all knowledge was destroyed. This was a disaster!

Where are you, Adem? I need you!

***

Adem leapt through the air—over twenty feet off the ground—to land on another rooftop. He'd been using that new ability, to lead the Boli-Kuldr towards the area where he sensed Carl. The town was large, hundreds of buildings stretching alongside the ocean cliffs. He guessed it reflected a town somewhere north of Mordien. The shape of the land suggested this location, from his memory of studying maps in the area.

The roar of Boli-Kuldr pursued him through the night, hoofed feet pounding the pavement and tiled roofs as they gave chase. Some were further ahead of his path; his blade slashing in arcs of blue flames, burning demon bodies that fell in scorched piles.

He leapt, soaring over a rooftop swarming with Boli-Kuldr wielding spiked clubs, and landed on the paved stone. The gap between the next buildings was further than he'd estimated. He leapt again, as a blue flare erupted where he'd been standing. More fell around him as he landed on the second level of the next house. He saw a shadow cloaked figure standing on the rooftop, blue lightning in his hands. Adem formed a Shield-Sphere, again using his thought rather than Angel-Magic. He had to restrict his use of teron to remain sane.

He used his thought to summon another Golden Soldier, standing eight-feet-tall behind his enemy. The sentinel raised both arms to unleash bars of thick red lasers. The surprise attack unsettled the dark cloaked figure, pale eyes with a red beard. Adem's Battle Angels confirmed his name was Adlio.

The beams of fire stuck Adlio's Shield-Spell, pushing him forwards as his feet skidded on the roof tiles. He gestured over his shoulder with his right hand, and the Golden Soldier burst into flames, the gold becoming liquefied in seconds; melting into a bubbling mess. Adem thought, and spikes spit up out of the roof tiles, two of them punching up through the abdomen of the Dark General. He gave a wail of pain; then vanished in a warp. Adem checked the spears and was delighted to see fresh red blood sliding down the shafts.

Chapter 22

Hero Chain

Jean watched the last of the flames vanish, from the largest library vault in the palace. The other fires had been extinguished; including the other libraries, though there was little left except piles of scorched leather and ash. This filled her with grief, if the other kingdoms had suffered similar attacks, they would lose their best chance at finding a way to cleanse Angel-Magic.

She was standing in the smoky chamber looking at the ashes on the shelves and floor, when a tall immortal with green eyes entered. He wore armour and a fine blue coat, dark trousers and leather boots. He looked youthful, except for his eyes that emanated more experience than any other immortal she had ever seen. He swept a look around the room, his focus resting on the white-haired man with the moustache a moment before he asked, 'May I speak with you in private, Daughter of Thor?'

'You may call me Jean, after we are properly introduced, lord?' she fixed him with a probing glare before he replied, 'My name is Elarja RinHannen.' That name brought a stunned expression to the face of the white-haired immortal, though he tried to hide his surprise a moment after. Hayley and Terese both gasped.

'You may leave us,' Jean said to her entourage, as Ael Tarael, Alit'aren and Aldebrands began to file out of the room, ash floating up at every step. Finally, she was alone with only Terese and Hayley, as well as this man named Elarja. She tried to gain information on the man from her Battle Angels, though they were silent, although she sensed an emotion from them both about the man. She thought it was ... elation!

'Tell me about yourself; Elarja RinHannen,' Jean said.

'In good time, Snow Fox,' Elarja replied. 'For now, we must deal with this tragedy. The Sons of Odin are lost to us, as is this precious knowledge that burns around us.'

'The Sons will return. As for the books, I see no way we can reverse the damage. It will take centuries to regain a fraction of the knowledge that was stored here.' The man looked around the room before he replied, 'There is a way to solve this problem.'

'How would that be possible?' Jean asked.

'With these, Jean Fairsythe,' Elarja said, as he drew forth four precious stones from a leather belt pouch, red, green, white and blue. 'With these I can recover any book you wish to read.'

'How is that possible?'

'Listen to him, Jean,' Terese said, the woman appeared to be brimming with excitement, and Jean sensed the same emotion in Hayley.

'What do you need to perform this miracle?' Jean asked, still with scepticism in her voice.

'I will require the Archive Tomes. If they are already burnt to cinders, I will have to return to when they were not.'

'I don't understand,' Jean said. Elarja smiled again, though the wisdom in his eyes seemed to shine even brighter as he said, 'I assume your companions have heard my name before. I prefer not to speak about my gifts, perhaps they can explain.'

'I will tell her, Lord Elarja,' Terese said. The man looked at her, and said, 'You have the face of Armellia Frostblade, it is so distinct ... I wonder—?'

'An ancient member of my lineage, Lord Elarja,' Terese said, but Jean caught her lie, Armellia Frostblade was Terese's name in a past life, over a hundred thousand years ago!

'You knew Armellia?' Jean asked in shock.

'We fought together in the Battle of Kren Kohlor Fields,' Elarja said, before Terese added, 'And the Battle of Mialar's Flight!' Elarja looked extremely curious, as he regarded Terese again and said, 'Haunting how much you remind me of her.' Terese and Hayley began to giggle. Jean thought she might faint in shock at how old this man must be.

'You are an intriguing fellow, Lord Elarja,' Jean said, in a calm tone, standing her tallest. 'My companions will brief me on what they know of you. I will meet you for supper in the Royal Dining Hall.' Just then, Lydia and Elmira entered with their husbands trailing. They had been sent to help put out fires in the north wing of the palace, the women looked drained of strength. All four immortals fixed Elarja with stares that were filled with warmth and awe.

'Lord Elarja,' Lydia said, bowing lower than Jean had ever seen the woman do for anyone, followed by Elmira, Orion and Tobin.

'I will be gladdened to know the whole of this man's story,' Jean said with a smile. 'His reputation appears to be without equal.'

Later, after her briefing on Elarja from Terese and Hayley, Jean sat in the Royal Dining Hall with the miraculous man, as well as Isabelle, Lydia, Elmira and their husbands. Arig stood guard along the wall of the chamber, as well as Aldebrands and Alit'aren. The white moustached immortal was also present, and Hayley had explained that man's true identity also. She resisted the urge to shiver in his presence. His eyes probed her soul in a way that made her certain he had been Tairark Vampire-King, before his transformation.

She questioned the man on this place Adem, Carl and Wil had entered. His answers were evasive, yet she pushed him until she understood their situation better. They were in serious danger if they did not escape soon. 'Can't you reach them, with your special gifts?' Jean asked Tairark, who she preferred to call Serock, his newly chosen name. It meant 'The Fallen,' in the Old Nordic Tongue.

'That ability is sadly lost to me, Snow Fox. Much of my old powers died with my former shell. I still may provide formidable defence against your enemies, though I cannot bring your friends back from that realm.'

'How will they escape then?'

'The Reflected Realm is a world of dangers, my Lady. I fear that if they cannot escape soon, some manner of evil will destroy them.' Jean felt a sinking feeling in her heart; then she looked to Elarja and asked, 'Can you do anything?'

'I suggest sourcing information from the ancient texts, Daughter of Thor,' Elarja replied, with a narrowed gaze. She was certain he did not trust Serock. Elarja then opened the Archive Tome that had been stored in the chambers of the High Lore Keeper, Eiblen Marcroli. It was among the few tomes that had survived the fires, as the enemy must've considered such referencing materials useless, once the libraries were set aflame. Or perhaps they had not known the old Lore Keeper often borrowed the tome for his research.

Elarja studied the book for some time, until he pointed at a page, and found a reference to books about the Reflected Realm. In the book it gave the Nordic name for the realm, Arthros'temeilen. The tome gave the name of each book, its reference code and which library it was stored in. If Elarja was truly who Terese and Hayley said he was; then this book was a vital key to finding and saving the Sons of Odin and finding a cure for Angel-Magic.

Elarja closed the tome, then stood and walked to the far end of the room. He drew forth those four precious stones from his pouch, then clutched them in his right fist as light began to radiate about his form. The light was a swirl of reds, blues, greens and white, it moved like serpents entwining until it formed a glowing sphere. A sound like stone tearing filled the air, as the sphere bulged and flared brighter. A moment later the light vanished, and so had Elarja!

'So, it is true,' Serock said, with a look of bewilderment. To Jean's amazement, the former High-Servant seemed to hold Elarja in great reverence.

'It may be true,' Jean said; then she fixed the man with a hard stare, as she asked, 'Do I need to question your loyalty, Serock?'

'You have my absolute loyalty, Snow Fox. I swear the oath to serve you, until my last breath, and in the next life, and if I am reborn again, I will still serve you.'

'That's quite a promise. How much time do we have?'

'It would appear we have all the time in the world,' Serock said, with that same puzzled expression. 'Though our one hope is that time in the Reflected Realm is slower than here. While we try to puzzle out a way to rescue the Sons, if it takes days here, it will only seem hours to them there.'

'Why have they called off the attack?'

'I assume the enemy is working to burn down every library across the Free Lands, as you have already guessed. The rest may have ganged up on the Sons of Odin, while they are trapped and alone.' Jean gave a deep sigh of exasperation. If the Sons were defeated, the enemy would then return for her. Time was of the essence.

***

Elarja stood in the Royal Library of the palace, but this was not on the same day that he had left Jean Fairsythe and her companions, in the Royal Dining Hall. Moving short or great distances was possible with the precious stones he'd crafted many an Age ago, though their real power was the ability to travel through time. The day he visited was a few days before the attack. He did not want to journey too far back in time, as the missing books could start questions being asked among the librarians, which could have a ripple effect on the timeline to disastrous proportions.

Time travel was dangerous for that very reason, too much alteration of the timeline could change events drastically, resulting in lives being lost, or all life completely. If someone needed these books, while he was using them in the future, it would upset the natural course of events that had transpired before he took the book. The possibilities were perhaps minor in such circumstances, though what if the book was needed for study; and that student lacked that knowledge at a time when it was vital? He had always been cautious of these dangers; though this was the very reason the Leaf Aldebrands had imprisoned him in that alternate realm, nearly one hundred thousand years ago.

He was searching for the book he needed, when he heard footsteps approaching. His hearing was exceptional, but this immortal that approached was adept at keeping their footfalls silent, until they were close. Within moments the woman was standing at his side. In his moment of surprise, he did not try to escape, as that would cause more questions. The woman was of average height for an immortal female; raven black hair tied in a braid. Tinges of grey formed wingtips above her pointed ears, and there was a look of great experience to the woman despite her youthful complexion. He guessed she was over a thousand years old to have grey in her hair, though there were no lines or wrinkles around her large black eyes. She wore the royal sigil of the Librarian Guild, a burning torch in the shape of a white owl lined with gold and crimson, on a wool-spun gown of dark green. She wore no jewellery, and had a modest look about her, but when she spoke, Elarja became uneasy, 'I have not seen you before, so, you must be new. What is your name?'

'Telgrol Ardoshi, of the Third Depository, my lady,' Elarja replied. He wore a disguise of course, a similar dark robe with the same sigil, only his flame was in the shape of a horse, of the Third Depository, worked with aqua and green embroidery. It was merely Illusion-Magic of course, underneath he wore his armour, coat and trousers; a disguise created by Angel-Magic. His face was different also, though only slightly, his emerald eyes would appear brown, and his skin slightly tanned.

'A Torvellen name; and you have the look, though your accent is strange to me. Where were you raised, child?' Elarja resisted the urge to smirk at this youngling calling him child, though the command she radiated still made him almost squirm under her gaze.

'Deep in the Southlands, my lady,' Elarja lied, 'in a little hamlet named Storkhaven.' He had studied maps of that region prior to this mission, the name of the place was not made up. When Elarja was a youngling that place was known as the Hollows of the Moon, and a great city stood there ruled by the first of the Torvellen Kings, Torviendis Starblade.

'I have never been to the Southlands,' the woman said. 'Your face is also reminding me of someone, someone I've read about in the old legends. Forgive me; my memory is not as sharp as it once was. My name is Del; and it's just Del, not Lady Del. I am of the Nordic bloodline, as you might have guessed, though my dark hair and eyes come from my Torvellen grandmother.'

'It is a pleasure to meet you ... Del. I wonder; could you help me find what I'm looking for? It seems the tome I referenced in the archives is not where it should be.' Elarja then told her the name of the book, and she replied, 'Oh, yes, I know the one. It was borrowed by Lore Keeper Samuel; he takes an interest in Arthros'temeilen and all the archaic realms.'

'Can you tell me what day he borrowed it?'

'Why yes, I was here. Three days ago, at noon. But why would you want to know when he borrowed it, rather than when he plans to return it?' Elarja shrugged, before he replied with a smile, 'A pointless question, forgive me. Now if you will excuse me, Del, I have other duties.'

'It was a pleasure to meet you, Telgrol. I look forward to speaking with you again, soon I hope.'

'I am delighted to make your acquaintance too, Del,' he bowed adequately as he spoke, then departed with haste. He felt the woman's eyes on his back as he left. He could not shake the way the woman seemed to get under his skin. Not in a romantic way of course, she was far too young for him. She just had a ... a presence about her. Then he reached for the stones in his pouch, when he was hidden in another empty chamber of the library vaults. The Time Travel Dome formed around him, in a swirl of light and colour.

He landed in the same chamber he had left Del in; four days further into the past. He still wore his disguise, and he found the book in short order. However, he was just taking the tome off the shelf, when he heard the same familiar footsteps approaching. He waited, and in a short time Del was standing behind him, with that youthful face and experienced eyes. She narrowed her gaze as she saw his face, then she said slowly, 'I know you. I've met you here before.'

'Forgive me, my lady, but that is not possible,' Elarja offered, suddenly feeling a sting of panic.

'Yes, now I remember. You're Telgrol Ardoshi, the Torvellen boy from the Southlands. Storkhaven if I recall correctly?' Elarja thought he might begin to break a sweat, for the first time in a long time. Something was very wrong here, if this woman remembered him, it was a matter of great concern.

'Forgive me, my lady, but I must be going. I must deliver this book to my tutor.'

'Who is your tutor?' Del asked.

'Lore Keeper Samuel,' Elarja said, it was his best hope to escape without a confrontation. However, it could cause ripples in the timeline when Samuel arrived to borrow the tome tomorrow. Questions would be asked. The woman smiled, and he bowed then made another hasty exit. Again, he felt those eyes on his back.

***

Jean watched Elarja reappear in a flare of coloured light, standing in the Royal Dining Hall, only a short time after he'd departed. He held a brown leather-bound volume, with Aelfin script on the cover, embossed in gold. Placing the book on the tabletop, he opened it and began to scan through the chapter headings. Jean had to believe it now. This man could travel back in time! She moved to stand beside him; looking over his shoulder at the large brown pages. He pointed to the chapter about the Reflected Realm. He opened those pages to study them with a concentrated frown.

She noticed his brow was furrowed, and she asked, 'Is something else bothering you, Lord Elarja?' He looked up, his gaze strained with concern, before he replied, 'I fear there may be a rift in the timelines.'

'What does that mean?' Jean asked.

'I visited two different days in the past, one a few days before the attack, where I met a librarian woman named Del. I wore a disguise and gave a false name and heritage, of course. However, the book had been borrowed three days before that day, so I went back to the day before that.'

'Yes, go on,' Jean said, she felt she understood so far.

'Well, Del was there again, only she recognized me!'

'Impossible!' Terese said, arms crossed with her head shaking side to side. 'How could she remember you?'

'I don't know!' Elarja exclaimed. 'That is what worries me. She could not remember me, because she met me in the future, not the past. Yet she could recall my name, my clan, and my hometown, of the false identity I had provided her. She could not recall when she met me, though she knew it was in that same library chamber.'

'Could she have some special gift?' Hayley asked.

'Not even a Reader could know the name and history of a person they have never met, they can only foretell an event occurring to someone they already know, the person they are reading, and events that affect other people they have already met,' Elarja said.

'Could it be that you already visited her further back in time, yet you don't know it yet?'

'No, it doesn't work like that,' Elarja said, before he took on a lecturing tone. 'Time is linear, until you change something in the past to create a possible new line, due to altering the course of events. I always try to correct these changes whenever possible. I will return the book to moments after I borrowed it, for example, to ensure it can be borrowed by Lore Keeper Samuel the next day.'

'Very wise, my lord,' Terese said. 'Yet what if you travelled further back in time, in the future, which would explain why Del recognised you?'

'I just explained, it doesn't work like that,' he sounded slightly irritated this time. 'I can't have met her further in the past, because I haven't travelled there yet. To explain in detail, this relies on the Hero Chain, and its links to the Shield of Fire, and the turning of the Great Cycle. Time is a Hero Chain, the strongest that exists, and present time, this time we are experiencing now, moves the Shield of Fire which turns the Great Cycle through the Ages.'

'Get to the point of why she shouldn't remember you,' Jean said.

'Because I had not met her before that day,' Elarja replied. 'I met her four days after that day, so it was impossible that she remembered me. Anyway, linear time, if I had travelled further back in time, and met her then, I would know it. So, until I do that, which would occur in the future, that past event does not exist yet, so, she should not have known my identity!'

'So, what does this mean?' Jean asked. 'Because she did know you, so she was remembering the future?'

'Exactly,' Elarja said. 'This suggests there must be a rift in the timelines, giving people memories in the past of their future.'

'And what are the implications of that?' Jean asked.

'If this rift expands, it could result in physical beings moving from the past to our present time. I must warn you, if this occurs, we may find ourselves facing demons from before the days of the First Age. Giants of nightmare flesh, some that could turn men to burning ash, simply by breathing upon them. There is also the possibility of the ancient Hex-Warlords moving through time, landing here in the present, or in the future, or in the recent past. If the Sons of Odin were caught by a surprise attack, the enemy could alter the Prophecies and—'

'I see your point, Lord Elarja,' Jean said. Now she was worried. 'Is there anything in this book that can tell us how to enter the Reflected Realm?'

'I don't think so, Lady Jean. I will continue to study it to try to puzzle out an answer.'

'Let me know when you come up with something,' Jean said, then she summoned her entourage and they returned to her chambers. Terese and Hayley strode at her sides, with Isabelle close behind. They were trailed by Lydia and Elmira and their husbands. She left Serock alone with Elarja, along with his Ael Tarael guards, and the Alit'aren and Aldebrands who stood in the dining hall. She saw the two men staring at one another like a face-off between two proud lions. It would take time for trust to grow between those two.

Later, when she was in her bedchambers with Terese and Isabelle, she continued her questioning of the other woman's intentions for Adem. They argued for some time, until Jean was certain she had the upper hand. She turned to walk away when Isabelle pronounced, 'I am to have his child!' Jean's heels grated on the tiled floor as she halted in her tracks. She turned to regard Isabelle, who looked as shocked as Jean felt. Her heart had been ripped from her chest anew.

'When you say, "have his child," do you mean you are currently with child?' Isabelle nodded, her dark eyes flaring with emotion. Jean fought the overwhelming desire to collapse. Her heart was a ball of pain so fierce she thought it might burn through her chest. 'This must be kept secret,' Jean said, after long slow breaths to calm herself. 'The enemy will target you and the child.'

'I'll boil him in his boots for breakfast!' Terese shouted, though she looked upon Jean with deep sympathy.

'Do not get involved in this, Terese,' Jean instructed. 'What's done is done.' She regarded Isabelle as if she were the source of all evil before she said, 'You have won this round it seems, princess. Let's get you to safety.'

Chapter 23

The Angel of Death

Adem had found Carl and Wil again, near a group of burning buildings that Carl had apparently set alight. Wil was set down by Dis Pater on golden wings, then the Battle Angel returned to Wil's axe. The demons had vanished, though Carl explained that there had been swarms of Jacoulra and Nymloc close by, before Adem arrived. 'I'm beginning to understand this place,' Carl said, his breathing was laboured. They were all beyond exhaustion, though the amount of ki'mera they'd obtained at the Battle of Hordrin's Corridor, meant they could possibly keep fighting for a week. Their Battle Angels were also fully charged with the demon souls. 'I think I can get us home,' Carl continued. 'I just need a little more practice at manipulating the environment. I've found my thoughts can alter our location. We should use this ability to focus our memories on the Halls of Korhad. If we can visualise those mirrors again, and I find a way to get us through one, we should be free!'

'Sounds logical,' Wil said. 'Can you picture the halls, Adem?'

'I think I can,' Adem said.

'We need to all visualise the same place,' Carl explained. 'That will increase our chances of overpowering the Hex-Keepers. I think they are controlling this realm.'

Suddenly a great roar filled the air! They looked to the east and saw a black beast standing on all fours. It was larger than the dragon Adem had created at Hordrin's Corridor. Its form was a massive dark bulk, spiked plates rising from its back, similar to a stegosaurus, with a massive skull and jaws of a black horned triceratops! Its eyes flared red in the darkness. It was an Omen of Old Ways Magic. Arawn confirmed it was a Demori Kahlahl. His Battle Angel could not explain how the creature could exist here in this Age. This concerned Adem considerably, as the monstrosity began to charge. Its massive bulk struck the first lines of buildings; stone and tiles were shattered as if struck with immense waves of Angel-Magic, rubble flying in the wake of the beast as it roared like a great hulking T-Rex.

Adem cried, 'Arawn, Llew and Balor!'

Carl shouted, 'Math Mathonwy and Angus!'

Wil shouted, 'Bran and Eledisren!'

Adem's vision became fire of many colours. The Battle Angels appeared and took to the skies on wings of shadow or flames. Fire Lions, Spirit Wolves and Shadow Hounds began charging across the rooftops, dozens of them, snarling and howling; they ran to face their prey. Even Shadowhunter emerged and took the lead of the packs and prides. Lightning fell around the beast, and it slowed its pace, buildings exploding into flames. The Battle Angels flew around the creature, hurling down bolts and arcs of flame that struck its hide and skull. It appeared only slightly annoyed by their onslaught, though they distracted it enough to buy them some time.

'Concentrate on the hallway!' Carl shouted. Adem focused, they all focused, picturing the hallway, and their surroundings began to change. To the west of the buildings, near where they stood, the darkness became a reflection of the hallway of mirrors! Carl raced towards one; waving his spear and making incantations as the mirror surface rippled and shimmered. Wil was at his side in a blur, and Adem leapt the distance to catch up. Adem looked back to see the beast running in circles, as it was harried by the Battle Angels with lightning and fire.

Then it burst free of their attacks; charging towards them as the earth rumbled.

'Whatever you're doing, do it faster!' Adem shouted to Carl. His friend gave him a troubled look, and then said, 'Give me a few more minutes.'

Adem's eyes nearly fell out of his head. He turned again to face the charging monstrosity. He used his thought ... and a golden dragon swooped down out of the sky. Its rear claws clutched the demon by the skull. Both massive creatures collapsed and skidded, buildings bursting in their wake. The great dragon stood and flapped its wings as it roared, and the demon appeared cowed for a moment. Then it charged again, plunging a dark horn into the chest of the dragon, pushing it through the town as its massive hooves pounded the shuddering earth. The Battle Angels continued to hurl their attacks at the beast, until it gave up on the dragon. It returned its focus to standing on hind legs; attempting to catch the Angels in its jaws.

Adem's hope faded, as he saw the dragon rise and cough up a spurt of blood. Both beasts were only thirty feet away now. 'Hurry, Carl!' Adem shouted. The dragon's form dissipated into a flock of golden eagles that took flight. Adem thought again ... Four Golden Soldiers stood before him. Raising golden cannon arms aimed at the demon. Red fire lanced towards the beast, they moved in sliding motions to cut slices through its legs. It roared again before collapsing. A moment later it had recovered though, and it stood again as Adem changed the Soldiers' cannons—Sprays of fire and dragon's roar erupted from the weapons; six-inch bullets flew to strike the skull of the creature, making large holes that burst with dark blood. 'Faster!' Adem shouted.

Carl cried, 'It's done!'

Adem watched Carl leap at the mirror, and to his relief, he passed through it! Wil went next and Adem leapt after him, all of them landing in a pile on the red carpeted hallway of Korhad. Soldiers saw them and began to rush towards them.

'The Sons of Odin have returned!' one man shouted.

'Alert the Snow Fox!' another roared.

Adem stood and looked through the mirror, to see the demon stomping on his Golden Soldiers. In a blur of colour and fire, their Battle Angels travelled through the mirror and returned to their Resting Points. Adem guessed Carl knew they needed to return, or they may be trapped in that Mirror Realm. Then Carl began to wave his spear and continue to chant. The mirror surface shimmered and rippled; as the massive demon charged.

Adem summoned a Golden Soldier, almost as tall as the Demori Kahlahl. It threw its golden claws around the beast. The Soldier was pushed back; dredging up the pavement with golden heels as it held the beast's skull with one arm. It raised the other, to plant a giant golden blade through its hide. The creature roared; raising its snout and throwing the Soldier into the air. The demon charged again—Carl tapped the mirror with his spear—the creature's skull struck the mirror; the hallway rumbled. It roared in outrage; butting its skull against the mirror as stones fell from the ceiling, one missing Adem by a hand's width. Then all was silent, the creature continued to attack but, it had no effect on this side of the mirror. Then the demon vanished, and the mirror reflected their three stunned faces. Adem collapsed ... Darkness.

When he opened his eyes, he was laying on a bed in a large chamber, with pale grey walls and red and blue tapestries. He expected to see Jean, though it was Isabelle's face that stared back at him. Regarding him with concern and compassion, she stroked his forehead as she said; 'You've slept for nearly an entire day, my love. I wondered if you would ever wake.' He pushed his arms down firm, trying to sit upright, he was still exhausted. The room was empty other than a single chair by his bedside. He guessed it had been where Isabelle sat while she watched over him. 'Where is Jean?' Adem asked.

'The Snow Fox thought it best that I was here to greet you when you woke. I have wonderful news, my darling.'

'What is it?' Adem asked, though he dreaded the answer.

'I am to have your child!' Isabelle said ecstatically. Adem felt his eyes go wide in shock. An overwhelming surge of guilt took over, as he considered how hurt Jean would be. Furious was probably a better word.

'Are you certain?'

'Isn't it wonderful, my love? Your heir will rule this world and shape it for your return. I will raise the child to be strong willed, kind and well educated.'

'What has Jean said about this?'

'The Snow Fox is obviously jaded, my lord. But she will recover.'

'I must speak with her.'

'I would advise against that, darling. She may not wish to speak with you. You might find that fragile link between you has been irreparably severed,' Isabelle stated this, as if it was the only way it should be. She looked delighted at the thought.

'What of the attack?' Adem asked, suddenly sitting forward as if ready to spring from the bed sheets. Isabelle pushed him back against the pillows as she told him; 'Carl guards your door with a half dozen Aldebrands. The enemy has retreated, for now. It seems their purpose was to destroy the Royal Libraries.'

'To make it impossible to find a cure,' Adem said, suddenly feeling a fool for not considering the possibility. 'Did they succeed?'

'They did,' Isabelle said. 'However, Carl Wilder rescued a most miraculous man. He is able to retrieve a book whenever we need it.'

'How is that possible?'

'It will take some time for me to explain,' she replied with grin. So Adem sat and listened as Isabelle told the tale of Elarja RinHannen. Adem had enough understanding already of this man's abilities, from the legends he had heard or read about. When Isabelle finished the tale, he put his legs over the side of the bed to stand. 'I must speak with him,' he said. Isabelle pushed him back again, saying; 'I will send for him. You need to rest.'

It was true, he'd used up so much ki'mera against the giant demon he'd lost the only thing that was keeping him standing. As he lay against the pillows again, he closed his eyes ... Dreams took hold. Dreams of home.

***

Elarja stood at the bedside of Adem Highlander. The young mortal opened his eyes; staring up at Elarja with a curious expression. 'You summoned me, Lord Adem?'

'Yes,' he forced himself upright, before saying, 'I have heard of your talents. Could we use that ability to rescue someone from the past?'

'You must not have heard half the tales about me. It was for that very reason that the Time Stones were created.'

'I've heard some of those stories. Tell me more.'

'I am known best for bringing a great warrior out of an ancient battle; before they died. I would study the histories of their death, before travelling back to that Age. At first, I made the Stones to rescue friends and family. Though later, I saw a greater purpose, to bring an army of ancient heroes into the present, to fight alongside me.'

'Did it work?' Adem asked. Elarja had sensed Jinn-Magic the moment the Sons arrived through that portal where he was imprisoned. When he returned to Kismeria he'd felt it even more. It was putrid, ghastly filth that made his stomach turn when holding Angel-Magic. Elarja knew even he would be affected by the corruption over time. He considered the possibility that the rift in the timeline was being created by Jinn-Magic since he'd been brought back to Kismeria. The corruption on Angel-Magic was fuelling chaos through the Time Stones.

'It worked some of the time,' Elarja explained, 'though something that perplexed me was that many of the men and women I rescued died in incidents where the situation was always ... unusual.'

'In what way was it unusual?'

'That is a philosophical question, my Lord.' Elarja chose his next words carefully. 'I do not want to go into details ... However, it seemed, an invisible force was seeking them out to return balance to the timeline.'

'You mean Death was after them?' Adem's face was suddenly pale.

'As I said; it is a philosophical question. I sought out the Battle Angels to confirm that this was the work of Death, though they were elusive in their responses.' Adem's eyes took on an inward gaze, as if he were conferring with his own Battle Angels on the subject. 'Eventually all those I rescued were killed by this unseen force. If you are considering such action, to save a friend, there is a need to perform the rescue immediately before their deaths. Any time too far before then could have devastating ripple effects.'

'I understand,' Adem said; then he looked to Carl Wilder who was standing nearby. 'Find those closest to Kelderath, before he was killed. Bring them here.' Carl gave a nod before making his exit. When they were alone, Adem asked; 'So, why do you think Death was after them?'

'Some that I rescued from the past, were known to be reborn in the future, in a reincarnation of their former selves. Others were bound to the Harp of Souls, including my father. When this balance was upset, it had ripple effects on the timeline, in the past, in the present, and in the future.'

'You have seen our future?' Adem asked, with a look of wonder.

'I have seen versions of the future. Some, which I do not wish to speak of, others where the Prophecies of the Sons of Odin were fulfilled. Anything further ahead than present time, this time, is only a possible future. Events that take place due to decisions and actions by individuals can alter that possible future. There is more to it than that, such as the theory that once you can travel through time, there is no present, no beginning and no end. Time becomes fluid, malleable, ever changing and transforming as one event affects another.'

'I see,' Adem said. 'Was the corruption on Angel-Magic ever cleansed in any of those futures?'

'Never in any that I saw,' Elarja replied.

Adem sat silently for a time, before he asked, 'Do you have knowledge that may help us find a cure?'

'That is beyond my knowledge of Angel-Magic,' Elarja admitted. 'My skills were always in crafting objects that use teron and terael. It is possible, that with further study of the ancient texts, I may learn to create a device to assist in cleansing Angel-Magic.'

'That would require years of study I presume?' Adem asked.

'It could take thousands of years. I couldn't say for certain. Tell me of this Kelderath friend of yours. Why is he so important?'

'He was the finest battle strategist I ever met. We need him, especially now when the enemy is so persistent in their attempts to do us in.'

'You must understand that it is likely he will be hunted by that same force I spoke of.'

'I understand,' Adem replied. 'How is it that you never infected the past, after travelling to those futures where Angel-Magic was tainted?'

'That is another philosophical question. It relates to the Prophecies, that the Sons of Odin will increase the concentrations of Jinn-Magic. I think it has to do with your connection to Odin. I only ever felt Jinn-Magic while I visited those futures, then when I returned to the past Angel-Magic was pure again.'

'What about Hayley and the female curse?'

'There has never been a vampire joined with a Battle Angel before her. This corruption on terael never existed in any of the futures I saw. It is the result of Wil Martyr's effect on the timeline, something that did not exist until he made the decision to request Druantia to guard his wife.'

Adem nodded then said; 'Isabelle told me you are also concerned about a rift in the timeline. Explain this to me.' Elarja told Adem about the library visits and the woman Del, as well as his other concerns relating to this. It was at this time that Adem showed deep concern. He told Elarja of the demon they had seen in the Reflected Realm. When Elarja heard the name and description of the beast, he felt certain there must be a rift. That filled him with greater dread than he'd experienced since the First Age.

***

Adem waited, till Carl returned with two Alit'aren and four Aldebrands, the men who were closest to Jothar Kelderath before he died. They all witnessed a part of the moments the massive werewolf crashed down upon the great captain. Adem listened to each of their recollections, as he put the pieces together to form a whole picture. Elarja listened carefully also, those emerald eyes shining with the inner light typical of most immortals, though the wisdom in those eyes spoke of an ancient being. 'So, you were all there, and none of you were able to save him?' Adem asked, which brought shamed faces to the men, before one replied, 'We were a little distracted, mi' lord. Bloody man-eating dogs split up our defences! We failed him.' The man hung his head in shame.

'Never mind,' Adem said. 'You did your best.' The men left after saluting, and Adem stood to collect his sword and bow from the chest at the foot of the bed.

'You need more rest,' Carl insisted, though Adem waved him away.

'We need to bring back Kelderath. We need his battle brilliance.'

'How many can we take with us?' Carl asked Elarja.

'Including me, four,' Elarja said. 'In the ancient battles I took entire armies to assist me in rescuing even one hero. Sometimes that improved the timeline, but it was always messy, unpredictable. I will only take three, and I can only bring back those three and one more.'

'It will be you, me and Wil,' Adem said; buckling on his sword belt.

Chapter 24

To Save a Hero

Adem stood in a circle, with Carl and Wil on either side of him; Elarja standing opposite. Elarja wore his sword at his waist, though Adem understood the Time Stones were a much more powerful weapon. Wil carried his axe and bow, and Carl carried his bow and spear. They needed all of their Battle Angels for this rescue attempt, so Adem also carried the horn. Their Battle Angels were well rested after the encounter with the Demori Kahlahl. Adem also felt revived after his long sleep, though not at his full potential after depleting such vast stores of ki'mera.

Elarja reached for the four precious gemstones, clutching them in his fist. Light began to emanate from his hand, as colourful swirls encased the four of them, forming a sphere of light that bulged and flared—A sound like thunder ripped through the air. Adem felt a shift in his surroundings. He heard shouts and the ring of blades clashing, mixed with the howls of wolves.

The sphere of light vanished—They now stood on one of the platforms of Morgrahl Kordahn! It was night, a dark clouded sky above! A fierce battle raged around them. They had truly returned to that same battle where they'd tried to kill Tairark!

Immediately Adem began to unleash bolts of lightning at werewolves swarming in around them. He punched towards a black skinned beast, its flesh turning to blue vapour. He punched towards a grey furred monster—A blue bolt fell from the sky. Red flames burst beneath the beast. Arc of green flame punched into its chest. The creature was a ball of writhing flames as Aldebrands and soldiers began to cheer and shout their names.

It was then that a very strange thing happened ... Adem could remember this! He could see himself fighting now, only from the vantage point of his former self, battling werewolves on the plateau, to the south of the ruins. He could recall being alerted by the cries of men praising the Sons of Odin, and he could remember looking to the ruins—Seeing lightning and fire—He saw himself! Standing and fighting alongside Carl and Wil, at the same time that Carl and Wil fought beside him on the plateau! It was a bizarre feeling, though the strangest thing was, he could remember the past without this event taking place as well. He could remember it both ways. He wondered if Elarja would explain that had something to do with the rift.

Carl and Wil were fighting for their lives; werewolves were leaping off the higher wall of the ruins. Aldebrands, Alit'aren and soldiers fought with desperation to keep Adem and his friends protected. 'Where is Kelderath?' Adem shouted to a man, running to their aid. The Aldebrand pointed closer to the next rising wall, as he shouted, 'There, Lord Adem!' Adem looked to see Kelderath's white top knot and tail of hair falling from his shaved scalp. His shining armour surrounded by four Aldebrands and three Alit'aren.

Kelderath seemed to be marching forwards without a care. An obvious sign of being overconfident, which might explain his demise. Dozens of werewolves began to bark and growl from all around them, including more launching from the higher wall.

'We must stay together!' Elarja shouted.

Adem shouted, 'Arawn!'

Wil roared, 'Eledisren!'

Carl cried, 'Math Mathonwy!'

The shadow forms of the three Battle Angels loomed around them, wielding their enchanted blades. Fire Lions and Shadow Hounds charged outwards from their circle, pushing werewolves down to bite through skulls; ripping off limbs. The werewolves that penetrated those defences were cut down by the Battle Angels, blade and axe and spear slicing through thick necks and torsos. Adem looked to Kelderath to see him now standing alone, and above him on the higher wall he saw the man's murderer. A large black skinned werewolf stood poised to leap ... Adem thought ... and a Golden Soldier appeared behind the beast, driving a massive golden blade through its back, that protruded from its chest in a dark spray. Kelderath stepped back to look up as the spatter fell at his feet. Adem shouted to Arawn, 'Save Kelderath!'

The Battle Angel leapt into the air on wings of shadow, launching down beside the great captain. A werewolf landed beside Arawn, but the beast was sliced in half by his massive rune-marked crimson blade. Arawn clutched Kelderath by the shoulders and launched him into the air, to land in the circle between Adem and his friends. Kelderath wore a stunned expression as asked, 'What is this? I'm needed at the battlefront!'

'This is your rescue, Jothar!' Adem shouted. 'This man is Elarja RinHannen! We have come to save you from your death!'

'What utter nonsense!' Jothar shouted, as he looked upon Elarja. Then as recognition dawned upon him, he said, 'You cannot take me from this battle!'

'We must go!' Elarja shouted.

'Just give me a few more minutes!' Adem replied. 'We lost too many men here!'

'This is unwise!' Elarja warned.

'Two minutes!' Adem said; then he shouted, 'Balor! Llew Llaw Gyffes!'

Carl roared, 'Angus!'

Wil cried, 'Bran!'

The sky rumbled with thunder, as a great swirling storm cloud formed a vortex above the battle. Lightning fell from the vortex, emerald, aqua, crimson and gold, two hundred bolts per second as the Battle Angels formed a Link. Dozens of Shadow Hounds and Fire Lions began to appear on the stone walls, ripping apart werewolf flesh with claws of steel and flames. Seven male Battle Angels fought with ferocity; blades cleaving through werewolves on the platforms, while Bran, Angus and Balor took to the skies to hack through vampires; blades glowing in brilliant arcs. They flickered as they flew from one vampire to the next, hacking through skulls and chest-plates; bleeding carcasses falling from the sky.

Adem raised four Golden Soldiers to stand in a circle around Dis Pater, Arawn and Math, who still guarded their inner circle. Soldiers wielding golden blades; driving them through the chests of werewolves and hacking off skulls.

Again, Adem could recall witnessing this lightning via the Battle Angel Link, from the same vantage point, where his former self fought on the plateau to the south. He felt the memory entering his mind, as his future self-watched it unfold from the ruins, only this time; he felt the memory lock into his mind. The memory of fighting without witnessing this event was fading. He wondered if this loss of the past memory was how it was supposed to work if there was no rift. Then all he could remember was that he had seen this event unfold in the past, but he did not understand what he saw, until he witnessed it here, and now, through the eyes of his future self! It was a furious mind muddle!

'We must go!' Elarja shouted, and then he raised his fist, as light began to glow around them. Their Battle Angels returned to their Resting Points, in a flare of colour and light. The sphere for time travel surrounded them—Bulged and flared—Thunder ripped the air ... Then they were standing back in Wil's bedchamber, at Korhad, with all who had been there before still waiting for their return.

'That was simply astounding!' Kelderath said, then he bowed low as he said, 'My Lord Elarja, I am honoured that you would save me.' He looked to Adem, and asked, 'Did I truly die?'

'For quite some time, yes,' Adem replied with a plain face.

'I must tell you; I had another close call, not long before you rescued me,' Kelderath explained. 'My memories returned to me from my earliest days of battle. I could recall every tactic ever attempted, and my every success. I fear this increased my confidence, though I believe I now have much greater potential to lead.'

'We brought you back because we need that intelligence,' Adem said. 'There is just one thing we need to warn you about.' Adem and Elarja explained to Kelderath their concerns about the invisible force, that had hunted other men and women Elarja rescued in the ancient histories. Kelderath shrugged his shoulders and replied, 'Death has already had a shot at me. If he wants to take me again, he can have me!' Then he barked a laugh; slapping Elarja on the shoulder, as he said, 'You can always bring me back!'

'I can't guarantee that,' Elarja replied. 'You must be on your guard, at all times.'

Later that evening, a feast was held in the Grand Banquet Hall. Rows of tables with brightly embroidered cloths were spread around the large rectangular hall. Large tapestries hanging from the walls; an arched ceiling worked with winged figurines painted in bright colours. Adem sat with Jean on his right side, and Isabelle to his left. He tried to make conversation with Jean many times during the night, despite the fact that she continued to ignore him. Isabelle also constantly battled for his attention.

Tonight, Isabelle was more sincere, rather than bossy. There was a great kindness and affectionate nature to the immortal woman, something he often forgot when witnessing one of her tempers. Though, he would not have fallen for her, if she only ever displayed the arrogance of a princess, and the rage of a spoilt child. She had won his love through many interrogations of his deepest fears and desires, her persistence to seduce him, as well as the genuine sweetness of her personality that became so difficult to resist. Much like Jean, there were many layers to Isabelle, and she was worth the headaches when he got to experience her good side.

The revelation that she was with child—his child—was still taking its toll on his nerves and psychological state. In a way he was excited about being a father, though at the same time, he feared the child may always be a reminder to Jean of his betrayal.

The hall was filled with warm candlelight, and the glowing pale white orbs that used Angel-Magic to similar effect to lightbulbs. There was music and entertainment, a proper Kismerian feast. Everyone was in their bright silks and finest wool, or silk coats and breastplates. Many wore cloaks, as the weather was getting colder every day. It was pouring rain outside, which was the main reason for the feast, to celebrate the late arrival of autumn. The winter snows would soon follow, as the seasons tried to catch up.

The other reason for the feast was to celebrate the return of Kelderath, and the discovery of Elarja RinHannen, and his miraculous abilities. It seemed wrong in a way, to rob Kelderath of his memories that followed after his death, even becoming one of the Heroes of Will according to Carl. The fact that Adem could even remember being told that fact, was further evidence of the rift in the timeline, as once they rescued Jothar, he would have been erased from the timeline where he appeared as a ghost at the battle of Hordrin's Corridor. Once you started playing with the timelines, it was not only confusing; it could sometimes split your mind in two! He sat listening to the music, and watching the performers, though he had too many concerns to be content. He was anxious, and he was holding back a state of panic. He was not ready to rule these people. But it seemed they had chosen him to do so.

Epilogue

Koncha walked through the darkened village; his three brides at his side. He had taken two more, in the weeks since their Lord Tairark had been murdered by Jinn-Fendinn. That left Koncha to rule the vampire clans. Koncha was not particularly evil, just enough to keep himself going through the motions of murder and pillaging. Allowing the clans to feed on victims, sometimes even children, and take what women they wished to make their new brides. He was just an ambitious man. He had always been. Even over a thousand years ago, when he was lord of an estate near Low Hills Lake. When the southland province was attacked by vampires and werewolves, he had begged Tairark to spare him. His wish was granted, though Tairark showed no mercy for Koncha's wife and three sons. All three had defied the allure of the Vampire-King. His wife, Lenea, swore that she would rather be reborn as a snake, than live out eternity as a vampire.

He looked now to the face of his first vampire bride, Eleniel, dark of hair with eyes that sparkled in the moonlight. Blood dripped from the fangs of all three of his wives, as they had all feasted on a fat baker boy, who had sworn his oath to serve the All-Father. Those were considered the least useful of any possible new recruits, so the boy was drained until he was a pale husk. Koncha had taken a young servant girl, her blood was rich and satisfying.

The village was in flames, as they marched to stand under the great oak tree that stood in the centre of the town. His First Generals were gathered there, all with blood staining their lips, and the liquid-black gaze of a vampire who had fed or was about to feed.

Koncha wore dark armour worked with gold, as did his generals. The clans had servants who provided armour, clothing, weapons and other necessary supplies to their lairs in the southlands. His wives wore silk gowns that shimmered in the moonlight, Kaira and Olarvia both blue eyed with thick golden locks. His wives were all very beautiful, Kaira the most voluptuous of the three, Eleniel the most seductive.

A werewolf patrolled the field on all fours. The black-skinned hound was one of the eldest that had survived the attack by the Sons of Odin at Morgrahl Kordahn. Others patrolled the burning buildings; their bites used to recruit new males, to rebuild their shattered forces. Though there were other clans further south, other lairs, and they would join him as they moved north, swelling his numbers to become a force that would make even the Sons think twice about facing them again.

The sun was their greatest challenge. In the Free Lands the sun was so bright, even in winter, that vampires could not be caught in daylight for even a moment, without being badly scarred. Koncha knew that the bride of Wil Martyr was a vampire woman who could walk in daylight. The spell that had created this ability was his best hope. If he could perform the same spell on the entire clans, there would be nothing that could stop them from ruling this world.

'You know your orders,' Koncha said to his generals. 'Find Wil Martyr's wife. Bring her to me.'

'As you command, Lord Koncha,' replied Larg, with a fist to breastplate, tall, with tan skin and long dark hair. The Ruhalden Immortal had abilities that were rare amongst the clans. Four of his First Generals stepped out from under the wide branches and then all five took flight. They were best suited for the task. Adept at stealth, and all were Masters of the Blade.

Vampires were now a free people. They could feed on whoever they wished, whenever they wanted to. They could take new brides. Build their clans. Set werewolves on the hunt without fear of punishment. Though, the Magic of the High-Jinn flowed through all of them, influencing their behaviours, encouraging their foul deeds. Koncha wondered if another of the High-Servants would try to rule them? If that was the case, he would have to submit or be destroyed. But he was almost certain the vampires had been left to make their own choices. Though Jinn-Fendinn would continue to use them as pawns. Well, Koncha would not be used. He would lead his people to glory. The people of the Free Lands would be turned; or farmed like cattle; supplying fresh blood to the clans. This had always been the dream for vampires. He would see that it became a reality.

The End of the Second Book of the Sons of Odin

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.

