The floor rumbled to a cheer beneath his feet. Prince Rann was being toasted in the refectory. He had another victory to his credit. The Zr'gsz had sent a hundred rafts probing into the Gate of the Mountains itself. Anticipating such a move, Rann had long since laid plans with the nomads of the Steppes, who reluctantly cooperated. Only the Ust-alayakit tribe stayed aloof.
When the Hisser rafts were well into the narrow ravine, a storm of boulders, arrows and javelins came crashing down on them from above. As the surviving rafts climbed clear to meet their attackers, Rann and the Sky Guard swept out of the sun like a firestorm from Omizantrim. The humans took a handful of casualties, none among the bird riders. Not one of the rafts escaped.
Fost had to admit the strange, compact man with the devastated face had earned the cheers. Especially since he seemed to work miracles against the Zr'gsz. He was a monster, of that there was no doubt. Fost had seen his handiwork. And yet, and yet… without the scarred prince the humans would have already lost.
On top of such a day, this was too much to think about so Fost went into the suite he shared with Moriana and fell asleep.
It seemed he had just drifted into blackness when a scream aroused him. He jumped to his feet, yanked his sword from the scabbard and ran into a footstool. Cursing and clutching his shin, Fost found a cloak, wrapped it around himself and went hopping into the hall.
Down the corridor stood Rann. The naked arc of a scimitar gleamed blue in the prince's hand. Fost's blood chilled. Then he realized Rann also sought the source of the cry.
'Upstairs,' he said. He turned and dashed for the stairway. He heard Rann following.
He came out on the third floor. Moriana stood in an open door from which a strange blue light spilled. It was the door to Synalon's room. Moriana looked in with horror that metamorphosed slowly to anger as Fost watched.
He ran to her as she raised a trembling finger and pointed it like a weapon at her sister. 'You -' Fury choked her. 'You traitor!'
He came to the door and looked in. Synalon sat on the bed wearing some confection like azure mist that clearly showed the lush outlines of her body even in the dimness. Witchlights danced in clay saucers on the floor.
Across from the black-haired princess sat a gigantic black Dwarf.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The Messenger of the Dark Ones rose. He smiled, his teeth startlingly white against the midnight of his face.
'I see our discussion is at an end, daughter,' he said to Synalon. 'To you others, farewell. I regret not having the chance to speak with you before since I shall not see you again – alive.' He faded and vanished, leaving only his taunting laughter hanging in the air. Moriana's eyes blazed. 'You -'
'No,' Fost shouted, moving as fast as he ever had. He thrust past Moriana and stood, arms outspread, between the furious princess and her sister. 'Hear her out.' 'Get out of my way.'
Fost saw Rann standing just behind Moriana in the door. The scars on his face glowed whitely. Fost knew with certainty that this was betrayal and that the prince was about to drive his curved blade into Moriana's oblivious back.
Then Rann pushed past, taking his place at Fost's side, raising a hand to Synalon who rose from her bed with death in her eye.
'This is fair, I think. Neither of you casts a deathbolt without slaying the both of us. Now, Highness, will you talk?'
Fost felt his neck hairs rise. The air crackled with potent magics barely held in restraint. He waited to die and wondered what the Hell Call would be like.
It didn't happen. Moriana was first to drop her threatening hand, but Synalon followed reluctantly. 'I see nothing to talk about.' She gazed past Fost without warmth.
'What were you doing, Synalon? Do you deny that creature is a sending of the Dark Ones?'
'I do not.' Haughtily, she tossed back her head. 'It was the Messenger of the Lords of Elder Dark himself. I have spoken with him before.'
'What did you discuss?' Rann asked in a casual tone, as if mentioning how nice the weather had been that day.
'We discussed my sabotaging your plans to raise the World Spirit against Istu.' Moriana's hand shot forth. Fost grabbed it.
'Wait, dammit!' He swiveled his head and said in desperation, 'Explain and explain quickly or we're all dead.' Synalon started to bristle. 'I'd be pleased to hear an explanation, as well,' Rann drawled.
She shook back her hair and straightened her shoulders, as if preparing herself for a wearisome task.
'Very well. Shortly after we left Brev the Messenger appeared to me, after Fost had gone to sleep. He proposed that I rejoin the Dark Ones. He said I had proven wanting before but that if I acted rapidly and well I could earn back my lost grace – and more.' Moriana dropped her arm. She shook her head in dejection. 'How could you? How could even you?'
'I could not!' Synalon laughed. 'What kind of fool do you take me for, sister mine? Think me a traitor if you will. But I would be a stupid groundling if I trusted anything the Dark Ones said to me.' 'Then why did you tell him you'd go along?' Fost demanded.
'I thought better of you, Longstrider. Is it not obvious? The Dark Ones fear what we do here. They are not certain Istu can prevail so they sought to ensure their success from within. It takes great energy for the Lords to intervene on this plane, even through the agency of their Messenger. So I let them think I was mooncalf enough to heed them, and they wasted their efforts on me. I may have saved us, sister. Small thanks I'll get.' 'I don't believe it,' Moriana stated flatly.
'But what of you?' Synalon flung at her. 'Can we trust you? You've treated with the servitors of the Dark before – daughter of Thendrun!'
Moriana sagged. She caught the doorframe to support herself. Fost longed to go to her and hold her but sensed it wasn't safe to move.
'He told you,' Moriana said in a weak voice. 'Yes.' Synalon raised her head triumphantly. 'Is it so strange that we are drawn to Darkness, dear sister, with the heritage we share?'
'I… I couldn't bring myself to tell you,' whispered Moriana. She turned away. 'Best we die here and let others carry on the fight. We are tainted, touched by the Void and the Night. We do not deserve to return to the City in the Sky.'
'Are you so weak?' Synalon screamed at her. 'Go then. Open your veins and spill your blood upon the floor, if you despise it so! I care not what I do or do not deserve, nor whether I am sprung from Zr'gsz or even if one was my father! I will wreak my revenge upon those who betrayed and used me, and all who stand with them.' She strode forward, pushing Fost and Rann aside as easily as if they were children and seized Moriana's shoulders, spinning her roughly around. 'Perhaps you do not deserve to stand in the streets of our City again, sister. Then don't! But I shall! The City is all I've ever loved. I shall possess it again – and only death can stop me!'
In the stunned silence following her outburst they all heard the frantic footsteps in the corridor beyond. Synalon shoved her sister from her as a small boy in the tabard of a Bilsinxt drummer looked nervously around the door.
'Your Highnesses.' he said in a shrill voice. 'Th-they sent me from below to fetch you. The Sky City has just entered the Gate of the Mountains!'
Their footsteps rang loudly in Fost's ears as he and the others crowded into the chamber where the Nexus lay. Light appeared from everywhere; no torches were needed in Athalau. The Ethereals had been stirring on their pallets in the nave of the Palace of Esoteric Wisdom when Moriana and the rest raced by. Now they filed into the chamber as they had on that first day.
This time they did not take up kneeling positions on the dull steel pattern. Instead they lined themselves along the walls. 'The time is come, mistress?' Selamyl asked Moriana. She hesitated, then said, 'The time is
