realize its danger until after it was gutted by Angul. The spray of dark blood doused man and sword, but the Blade Cerulean's next flare burned them both clean again.
One of the remaining two uninjured aboleths managed to slap Raidon with a tentacle. That time when the monk spun half around, it was because of the force of his enemy's attack. Stars briefly glinted around the edges of his vision. His breath sounded ragged in his lungs.
The other aboleth, sensing an advantage, conjured an orb of slime out of thin air, then sent it slashing at the Shou. Already dazed by the tentacle, Raidon couldn't quite avoid the orb, which punched him in the chest. The ooze splattered him, coating him in a thin layer of mucus that instantly began to harden.
Without realizing he reached for it, Raidon sought his focus.
A monk of Xiang Temple trained first in the ability to concentrate and find an inner point where all thought was concentrated. Only after monks showed some ability to find a focus were they trained in the martial arts.
Raidon visualized his body, and that immaterial part of himself that recognized itself as his working mind. He visualized his thoughts as lines of energy. Normally serene arcs, his thoughts were a thicket, more tangled and disordered than he could have imagined. He nearly gave up then, but habit took over. He imagined the lines smoothing, the knots loosening, and the wells of inner strength opening.
He focused on his diaphragm, then expelled the air in his lungs with an explosive 'Kihop!'
The mucus coating him shattered, and the energy of his own body flowed up his spine and into his limbs. It was a feeling he'd failed to embrace for far too long.
His focus was back, at least partially. Some parts of his mind were in too much disarray for Raidon to fully regain what he'd trained so hard to master. But what focus he had was enough. It allowed him to access that which tattooed his chest.
The Cerulean Sign blazed anew with a color akin to that of Angul. In its light, the aboleths around him shrunk back. For them, life would soon be over.
However, the light served as a beacon. Every occupied cavity in the throne chamber's walls suddenly disgorged its owner.
Well over a hundred aboleths slithered toward the floor and the lone Keeper that fought, if not for his life, then at least for the moment.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The Year of the Secret (1396 DR) Xxiphu, Throne Chamber
Anusha led the pack. Japheth was right behind her, and Yeva and Seren brought up the rear. She. should have been fearless in her fleshless invis ibility. But she couldn't forget where the corridor she traveled led.
Even as they'd swarmed up the tunnel, another mighty psychic tug had nearly pulled her, and Yeva along with her, into the mind where the root of her spirit lodged. Japheth had saved her and Yeva yet again. However, he'd wiped his brow afterward, and a worried look flashed across his face. He'd almost failed to hold them. The next time the Eldest tugged, she would probably be gone.
Anusha tried not to think about it.
Then they emerged into Xxiphu's throne chamber. All her fears were shown as hollow caricatures.
A fierce conflict raged across the shifting floor. A swarm of aboleths thrashed and fought to collapse upon a figure who shone like a cerulean star. Sky blue light blazed from the man's sword, his chest, and even his eyes and fingertips. Everywhere the light struck, aboleths skirled in pain.
But he was one against an army. And even as he fought the creatures to a standstill, the larger elder aboleths whirling around in their ritual overhead continued their unearthly chant.
And the vast, many-eyed bulk that stared down from above seemed to gaze into her soul.
Anusha couldn't tear away from the Eldest's awful visage to gauge her companions' reactions, though she heard someone gasp and Japheth voice a hoarse curse.
Japheth said her name. She blinked and broke contact with the dead eyes overhead.
'Thank you,' she whispered.
'What is the half-elf trying to accomplish?' asked Yeva. 'To kill the Eldest,' said Seren.
The woman laughed. She said, 'He'd better stop wasting his time with all the little ones, then, and start climbing.'
Japheth said, 'Anusha, you and Yeva-help Raidon. You too, Thoster and Seren!'
'I am not getting close to that thing!' said Yeva.
'Help him with the swarm,' said the warlock, exasperation obvious in his manner.
'There are too many to fight,' Seren said, one hand to her throat.
'Perhaps, but see?' Japheth gestured at the scene. 'The monk draws their attention with his symbol. The cerulean light maddens them. So, drive into their rear and cull them while they remain focused on him. Between the four of you and Raidon, you actually have a chance. Few things can stop Anusha or even see her, and the same is likely true for Yeva. And I've witnessed how potent your spells are, Seren, and how deadly you are with your blade, Captain.'
'And what will you be doing, warlock?' said Captain Thoster.
'I have a ritual of my own to perform. It will take some time, so I need to start immediately.'
Japheth fixed Anusha with dark eyes. 'I will see you free of this, I promise. But in the meantime…' He waved a hand toward the fight.
Anusha nodded, not trusting herself to reply.
Japheth flashed a smile, then stepped into his cloak. A moment later, he was gone. Anusha looked around, but didn't see him reappear. She wondered where the warlock had gone to perform his ritual. Hopefully to an out- of-theway nook.
She turned to Yeva. 'Should we take our revenge?' Yeva said, 'Better to die fighting than hiding.' 'Yes.'
'Wait!' said Seren. The wizard traced symbols in the air with her wand. Where it passed, fading magical traces. followed. Arcane syllables tumbled from her lips. Her eyes took on a dull citrine glow.
'All right, that worked!' said Seren, gesturing with her wand at Anusha and Yeva. 'I can finally see both of you, which means I won't accidentally catch one of you in a spell.'
'I still can't,' said Thoster.
Seren ignored the captain.
Anusha concentrated on her armor, imagining it even more impenetrable. She raised her sword, and imagined it so sharp it could cut a zephyr in two.
Then she ran to join the fray.
She sprinted across the changing floor. Quick as she was, a ball of wizard fire bloomed ahead of her, setting alight four aboleths at a single stroke. Good for Seren! She'd half expected the wizard to turn tail. But there were so many aboleths! At least the flying ones above hadn't yet engaged in the fight-not even the smallest, and thankfully not the largest. She was doubly glad, for among those chanting creatures, a few possessed a multitude of eyes like the aboleth able to see her in Xxiphu's depths.
Anusha made contact with the enemy. Her blade swept through a creature with only the slightest tug. The aboleth died unaware anything had even threatened it. As it lay quivering and oozing dark fluid, she moved to the next. And the next. She whirled her sword around, maintaining its bitter sharpness with determined concentration.
Pain pinched her temple. She was exerting her dream form. If she pushed herself, she would falter and perhaps fall. But if she did not give Raidon-and by extension Japheth-a chance to succeed the Eldest would wake, and nothing would hold back her mind from its concentrated consciousness.
She renewed her onslaught, laying about with her dream blade like an avatar of death itself, even as her head began to pound with the ache of her unrelenting exertion.
*****
Seren's breath was harsh in her own ears. She was terrified, and her hands, wand, and voice trembled with each spell she launched. Thankfully the creatures reacted to her magical lances as Japheth had predicted. The
