dragonet squawked, then clattered to the ground, trailing dark smoke as it rolled.
The diviner laughed and advanced once more to stand before the free-hanging sword. Unimpeded, Telarian gripped Angul-Nis's hilt.
His eyes dissolved in night and his hair stood on end, each shaft seeming to project black-tinged fire. Telarian raised Angul-Nis above his head in a gesture of triumph. He began to laugh.
Delphe launched a silver mote trailing white sparks at the diviner, an enchantment of bone-binding. Telarian turned, still laughing, and deflected the spell right back at her on the flat of his blade!
She thrust her Sign amulet forward, intercepting the turned spell in a burst of crimson sparks. She blinked away the afterglow in time to see the diviner charging across the twenty paces that separated them.
Delphe screamed, still holding forth her Cerulean Sign, hoping to ward the diviner away with its potent symbology. If he was the Traitor's cat's-paw, the Sign should-
Telarian swept Angul-Nis through her hand. Color leached suddenly from the world as Delphe saw three fingers and half the Sign spin away from her palm.
Dawning shock replaced her strength, and she fell. Telarian chuckled and moved toward the lip of the Well, holding Angul-Nis high. Delphe tried to chant a spell, call on Cynosure to engage Telarian, or beseech one of the reeling Knights for aid. Desire collapsed to reality, and instead she clutched desperately at her maimed hand with the other, attempting to apply a tourniquet before her life bled out completely. Just a pace away, the light in her severed amulet dimmed and flickered out.
Telarian began to hack at the slab of force choking the Well, his laughter mounting in manic peals.
When she'd last seen Nangulis, tears rendered the world blurry and uncertain. As she perceived the human form stepping forward, as if out of the shadow of the conjoined blades, tears spilled anew from her wondering eyes, painting her surroundings in foggy striations of white, black, and red. Flashes of apocalyptic light, screams of pain, and a diabolical mirth echoing through the Throat faded from Kiril's perception. The concerns of the corporeal world were gone. She saw only the man to whom she'd once pledged her undying love. He who had just emerged from the conjoined sword.
Did she dream?
The figure turned his head and stammered, 'Kiril, is that you? Where are we? I can't remember. .'
Though her lips didn't move, she replied, joyfully, 'Yes! I am here! Waiting for you. I've always waited for you. But after your sacrifice. .' After his sacrifice, she'd known he was lost forever, a knowledge she drowned in alcohol. A knowledge which was now proved a lie!
Nangulis moved to her. He kneeled and took her hands in his. They were warm and vibrant. He asked, 'What sacrifice?'
She squeezed, desperately returning the pressure of his grip. 'Does it matter? You've returned to me, against all hope! Your sundered soul has finally been merged. .' She frowned, briefly recalling the conjoined sword Angul- Nis. Why had Telarian gone to such elaborate trouble to bring the blades together? She doubted he wished merely to liberate Nangulis from the fractured pieces as a gift to her. . she willfully pushed those thoughts away.
'My soul?' questioned Nangulis. 'I recall pain, then nothing. I remember. . coming to Stardeep. Yes! You were so beautiful in the starshine, so happy. We took up our duties. We served the Sign. .'
'Remember how we used to laugh each night, after our duties, when we talked about the events of the day together?' asked Kiril, a blushing joy growing in her that she hadn't experienced in more than a decade. She was tempted to forget all else and drown within the moment. Nangulis was returned to her!
'How could I forget?' responded Nangulis. 'You were my Bright Star, and I your Far Traveler.' Tears streaked Kiril's cheeks as Nangulis recalled the pet names they'd used. They'd given each other the appellations after two lovelorn characters described in Sild?yuir myth. The story recounted the unbreakable bonds between two elder elves parted by events and even centuries, but who found a way to return to each other in the end. Two constellations in Sild?yuir's sky were called by the same names.
Kiril spoke, 'You are my Far Traveler yet, Nangulis. You've come farther than I ever imagined-you've come back from death itself to find me.'
Nangulis released one of her hands to wipe away another streaking tear from her cheek. 'Don't cry, Bright Star.'
'I cry because I am happy,' she explained.
'As am I. . yet my recollection is blurred. You spoke of sacrifice and death. .' He shook his head, confusion evident in his expression.
'Let us not speak of such dark things,' urged Kiril. She had eyes only for the man before her. All around them, shapes moved, staggered, fought, and perhaps died. She ignored them as best she was able. Nangulis deserved her wholehearted attention.
Raidon Kane opened his eyes on chaos. He lay in a mirrored, many-walled chamber. Lying atop him was a faintly groaning Knight. He pushed the figure off and stood. He saw first Kiril, kneeling and apparently lost in some fell enchantment, for she seemed unconcerned that not ten paces from her, the Keeper Telarian wielded a blade of fire and darkness. With it he hacked at some invisible shape that overlay a central pit illuminated from beneath. His mother's forget-me-not, still clutched in Raidon's hand, twitched as if pained with Telarian's every blow.
He had triggered a transfer, but what had happened since?
He started toward Kiril, intending to shake her out of her odd daze. Running, his gaze took in another star elf female he didn't recognize. Was this Delphe, the betrayer Kiril and Telarian had spoken with? She lay on the floor not far from Telarian, clutching one mutilated hand with the other. Had the mad Keeper been dispatched so easily? Raidon's intuition was confused. His attention had been so focused on using his forget-me-not to effect a transfer into the Throat that he hadn't paid heed to Kiril and Delphe's conversation in the tunnel.
Telarian's unrestrained laughter and wild swings with a weapon whose every slash made Raidon's skin prickle was. . worrisome. Had this Keeper also fallen to the Traitor's control?
He took another step and something stirred at his feet. He recoiled before he recognized the supine, smoking shape of Xet. The dragonet rotated its head to fix him with an entreating glance. Its mouth moved, and a single plaintive tone emerged.
Raidon reached down and stroked the creature's muzzle. Then he picked up the tiny thing. He carried Xet and set it down before the kneeling swordswoman. In Sild?yuir, the monk recalled how Kiril had revealed a strong affection for Xet-perhaps seeing it would snap her from her trance.
'Kiril, wake and see me,' urged Raidon. 'What transpired here? Should I oppose the remaining Keeper?'
A moment of quiet drew the monk's attention to the lip of the Well. The diviner stepped back just as something burst up from the cavity, dissolving whatever invisible cap Telarian had been working to destroy.
The figure emerged as if a ballista bolt, grazing the ceiling at the top of its arc. It came down hard on bent legs where Telarian had just stood. The entire floor shuddered under the impact. It was a statue, akin to those they'd seen in the tunnels, but larger, and splashed with ichor and gore, as if the construct were fresh from battle.
Telarian addressed the construct. 'Cynosure, your time as Stardeep's warden is complete. Loose the bonds, so I can eradicate the Traitor.'
A voice replied, coming not from the statue but from somewhere high on the ceiling. 'Telarian, you've fallen to insanity. Killing him will conclude his Final Pact of Apoapsis-a passage will be opened to the Abolethic Sovereignty! Xxiphu would rise!'
'Yes! It is destined to rise-the future is set!' screamed Telarian, nearly spitting with hysteria. 'Unless I divert it here and now!'
If Raidon held any question whether Telarian had succumbed to lunacy, he had his answer.
'The future is ever changeable-each new day is a chance to alter fate. Don't mistake your false visions for reality,' counseled Cynosure.
'To prevent atrocity, I must commit it,' replied the diviner nonsensically. 'You, more than anyone, must understand, Cynosure, you who helped me construct the Epoch Chamber. I do understand destiny can be altered- and since it was given to me and me alone to see so far into the future, fate is mine to shape! When a passage to Xxiphu forms over the Traitor's corpse, I shall travel it, ahead of the Traitor's spirit. With Angul-Nis in hand, I shall slay the Eldest, Xxiphu's sentinel who sits on all the abolethic city as if a throne!'
