Belen’s eyes narrowed at that and Tempest’s lips pressed tight. There was no levity in her voice when she spoke. “I think what he’s trying to say,” she said to Belen, “is that if we’re going to do something, we have to do it right. When we confront Vestapalk, we want to make sure we end him.” The tiefling gave Albanon a hard look. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, absolutely,” he said quickly. Belen’s face flushed with frustration but eventually she nodded.
“Soon?” she said.
“Soon.”
“It had better be.”
Tempest took the warrior’s arm and drew her on to the next clump of refugees without looking back at him. Albanon followed, feeling relieved, but unsettled. Belen and Tempest had formed a unique bond since the attack on Fallcrest-so far as any of them knew, they were the only two beings to have survived possession by Nu Alin. They were the lucky ones. They had each other to understand what they had experienced.
Albanon let his breath out slowly. That Vestapalk didn’t know-couldn’t know-that they’d learned of his location was a powerful draw to action. Belen’s information drawn from Nu Alin’s memories and the knowledge that they could reach his lair in this so-called Plaguedeep with only a week’s journey made Roghar and the others even more eager to be off after the dragon.
It was tempting to let them go. The others were strong-they’d get along without him. It might even be better for them if he wasn’t there. But he had to go. He wanted to go. He had to help stop this.
You can stop it, part of him whispered like a second voice in his head. You have the power. You know how to use it. You might not even need them.
No. He choked off the voices of doubt, desire, and duty that been swirling in his head for days. What he had to do was get back to the Glowing Tower. He needed quiet. He needed time to sort out what he was feeling. Another day. The others would believe him if he told them he needed another day of research. He opened his mouth, drew breath to tell Tempest he was returning to the tower-
“Albanon! Tempest!”
Uldane’s voice brought them all around. The halfling slid to a stop, not bothering to come right up to them. He was already jogging backward, in the direction of Roghar’s gatehouse, as he blurted, “Come with me! Plague demons are chasing travelers in the lower town-Roghar’s going after them.”
He should have kept his voice down. The mention of plague demons brought an instant panic to the refugees around them. People screamed and jostled. Belen cursed. “Get them under control,” Tempest told her. “We’ll go help Roghar.”
“Shadow take them,” the lieutenant snapped. She dropped her burden of blankets and drew her sword. “I’m coming with you.”
Tempest flashed her a sharp-toothed grin and started after Uldane, then looked back. “Albanon?”
He realized that he hadn’t moved. Doubt, duty, and desire rose again like a storm inside him. He wanted to go fight the demons, yet the idea filled him with dread. But how could he abandon his friends?
“Albanon, come on!” said Uldane, hopping from foot to foot.
Albanon clenched his jaw, thrust his basket at the nearest person who didn’t look totally panic-stricken, and gathered his robes for running.
“Let’s go,” he said through his teeth.
CHAPTER TWO
By the time they reached the half-constructed gatehouse, Roghar was already two turns down the snaking road that traversed the bluffs. “He left without us!” Uldane yelped. “He’s going to get to the fight before we catch him.”
Down in the lower town, the fleeing figures of travelers were halfway between the Moonwash Stream and the open expanse of the Market Green. Their bounding, sprinting pursuers had reached the water, and would catch their quarry on the green.
If Roghar was fast, he might reach the Market Green at the same time-but alone.
Albanon’s belly tensed. They could catch up to the dragonborn and face the demons at his side. It would mean risking his own demons, though. He took a breath and held up an arm before Uldane and Belen could rush after Roghar.
“Wait,” he said and stepped to the brow of the bluff. Roghar was almost directly below them, a good seventy-five paces straight down. Albanon focused his will. A spell rose in his mind and he seized it, concentrating on keeping it clear and sharp. At the back of his mind, something tugged at his attention, an urge to tinker with the magic. To alter it, just a little bit, and see what happened. He ignored the urge and used his fingers to sketch symbols in the air that only his wizard’s eyes could see.
It took only moments. The instant the last symbol was drawn, he felt arcane energy surge through him, completing the spell. A shimmering doorway, like sunlight flashing on water, flared to life-once again, invisible to everyone but him. Albanon glanced over his shoulder. “Stand exactly where I am and follow me.”
He turned back and stepped off the edge of the bluff into the shimmering air.
His foot came down, however, on the solid, dusty ground of the road only a few paces behind Roghar. Albanon stumbled for a moment but found his feet and started running after the paladin. A slight grunt signaled the arrival of someone else through the portal. It was followed by another grunt, then by Uldane’s laugh of delight at the magical transport. Roghar looked back without slowing down and grinned.
“I knew you’d make it. Those demons don’t stand a chance.” He raised his head and started to sing a deep, throaty battle hymn, the cadence of the song timed to his pounding charge.
“Does he always do that?” asked Belen as they raced after him.
“You get used to it,” said Tempest.
Beyond the green, the fleeing travelers had glimpsed their rescuers. Some pointed and gestured as if in encouragement to the others, some just kept their heads down. None of them stopped running, though near the back of the group, one tall figure in an emerald cloak shortened his stride to offer assistance to a pair of slender, more stooped travelers-someone more capable and heroic helping those who needed it most. Unfortunately, it meant that those three were closest to the pursuing demons.
And the demons were rapidly closing ground. Albanon tried to keep one eye on the creatures and the other on the ground beneath his feet. The road seemed even steeper that it usually did, his balance thrown by the speed of his descent. Except for Uldane, surefooted and agile as ever, all of them slipped and stumbled on bits of loose gravel as they ran, forcing them to slow more than they would have liked. By the time they reached flat ground, the fleeing travelers were sprinting onto the Market Green with the plague demons leaping and snarling almost at their heels.
The demons would reach the travelers before they did.
“Albanon!” Roghar shouted without pausing in his charge. “We need a spell to distract the demons.”
Albanon slowed as Belen and Uldane flew past him, gauging the distance to the far side of the green. In his gut, he knew he was the best choice for such a task: Tempest’s furious magic was destructive but lacked a wizard’s carefully studied range. His racing heart, however, felt like it skipped a beat. The far side of the green was farther than he could safely throw his magic without stretching the forms of the spell almost to breaking.
Is it really? the whisper in his head thought arrogantly. Or are you just holding back?
He bit his tongue and picked up speed again. “I need to be closer-”
“Do it!” Roghar pointed with this sword. “Look!”
Across the green, the tall traveler had given his slower companions a last push to speed them on their way, then turned to face their pursuers. His sword flashed from its sheath and he threw back his cloak-revealing the fine, sharp features of not just another eladrin, but one Albanon knew.
Immeral, the leader of the huntsmen Albanon had summoned from the Feywild to aid him against Kri, settled into a defensive stance, ready to meet the claws of the plague demons.
Albanon stopped so sharply that Tempest, following behind, cursed as she dodged around him. He put her out of his mind, drawing energy out of the air and shaping it into a tiny, brilliant red fleck above his palm. Under the
