He pushed again with his knife and met inflexible resistance. When he extended a finger, the bar bowed gently to his touch. With his shoulder and head, he forced a deep bulge that crept back into place when he released the pressure. He turned the knifeblade on its side. Surprisingly, the flat edge caused the greatest indentation of all. Somehow the blunter the object, the more effect it had. But what could be flatter than a plane of steel?
Suddenly, like the ingredients of a complicated formula, all of the elements of what he must do coalesced together. He would have only one try, he thought excitedly, but nothing else offered even a glimmer of hope. He glanced at Elezar, still occupied with the demons. His pulse quickened as one of the hovering devils darted away. Hastily he patted at the many pockets of his tunic, throwing out vials, matches, string, a mirror, pebbles, twigs, scissors, and the other contents as he searched for what he needed.
Finally he found the piece of Aeriel's wishbone and formed the binding. Goosebumps raced along his arms and legs as he felt his body heat provide the energy for the connection. Slowly he removed the bone from his pocket and placed it on the ground. He looked across the valley at the swirling confusion on the slopes and Bandor's waving banners already on the opposite crestline. For a moment, he thought of Aeriel racing away from warriors in hot pursuit, or already thrust to the ground, but he pushed the possibility aside. He grabbed the bone like a knife and, with bold slashes, drew a summoning message in the soft ground. Across the valley, the other part of the bone would also be scratching the earth, copying his motions stroke for stroke. Twice he looked over his shoulder at Elezar's back and increased the speed with which he inscribed the words that explained what she must bring.
When he was done, Alodar studied the webbing carefully one final time. He found the junction he wanted and settled on his knees before it, trying to burn the position of the vertex into his mind. He closed his eyes and practiced hitting the exact spot with no clues to aid him. Over and over, with methodical repetition, he conditioned himself to perform the precise stroke. With each fleeting moment, the chance of finishing his preparations before having to face Elezar's awesome power diminished, but there was no other course to try.
Finally he heard a commotion down the slope and turned his head to see Aeriel struggling up the hill, batting away a small swarm of imps. Her clothing was torn and her face and arms swollen with many angry welts. She hobbled barefoot over the rough ground, the remnant of a boot top still tied about one leg and the last drops of bog solvent dripping into smoking rivulets on her skin.
Gasping for breath, Aeriel struggled upwards to the far edge of the firepit. One small devil flew from Elezar and yanked at her hair. She stumbled with exhaustion and fell. The prince turned to watch as she shakily propped herself on one arm. With a final effort, she tossed her dagger into Alodar's cage, collapsing a second time.
'A common blade will avail you nothing.' Elezar said, drawing his attention back to Alodar. 'The sharper the edge, the greater will be the resistance of my pavilion to it. And even if you were to break free, your legs could not propel you away so fast that my power could not follow. Now tell me of your decision. Am I not your master, the master of your will freely given? Or must I take it in exchange for pain and suffering?'
Alodar grabbed the dagger and it instantly molded itself into the contours of his hand. He ran his finger along the blade edge and felt the magically perfect flatness. Elezar raised his eyebrows expectantly, but Alodar ignored the question. Making sure he was back in position he began the charm.
'Answer me not with gibberish,' Elezar snapped. 'And do not trifle with my patience.'
Alodar raced on through the three recitals, pushing aside the nausea and not contemplating the consequences. With a rush, he completed the last word and looked at himself in the small mirror at his side.
Instantly the world vanished. He was in total darkness and without sound. The sickness in his stomach, the residual aches from Elezar's bombardment, even the tactile sensation of kneeling on the ground, all were gone. As when Kelric had enchanted him with the eye, he was totally cut off from any stimulation from the outside.
Mentally Alodar sighed with relief. He had not been sure he could complete another enchantment, but the resistance was far less with himself rather than someone else as the subject. Apparently he still had his consciousness, even though he knew nothing of what went on around him.
He jerked his attention back to his task and visualized raising his hand to cut at the cage with the magic dagger. He felt nothing and had no way of knowing if he had hit the vertex at the precise spot but he had to assume that he did.
Next he imagined himself jumping upwards and crashing into Elezar. Mentally he wrapped his arms around the demon as they fell. Straining muscles that he could not feel, he crushed his arms towards his chest. At Handar's tower, even a demon had felt physical pain when cut. Now to see if a demon prince could also feel it. With unwavering persistence, Alodar focused on a picture of Elezar encased in his arms, with spindly ribs cracking one by one.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then Alodar felt a sudden stabbing thrust into his bubble of blackness. Somehow, in a way he could not describe, his barrier thinned and retreated before a probing pressure. A portion of his wall paled from black to gray, and the beginnings of pain trickled inwards.
Alodar concentrated on controlling his senses. He increased the intensity with which he blocked them out. Pushing against the indentation, he halted the rush and forced it backwards. With a shove, he slammed it into the smooth wall of nothingness which surrounded him.
Another thrust followed and then another. Like an inverted sea urchin, the spines poked inward from all directions. Alodar felt the seed of doubt, the kernel of fear, the germ of indecision take root in his mind. For a moment, he faltered. Then he focused on the first and repelled it away. One by one, he expelled them all and reinforced the thickness of his protection.
Finally Alodar felt a uniform pressure on all sides. There was no hint of pain or distress, but instead a subtle discomfort, as if he were surrounded in a growing crowd. He braced himself against the squeeze and exerted his will to keep Elezar's influence away. But the pressure increased. With a shudder, his barrier constricted closer to his innermost being.
Alodar felt his pride pushed on top of his curiosity, his anger mingled with his need to succeed. His drives tumbled among his doubts and fears. The wrinkles of his personality collided as they were pressed by the uniform smoothness. He strained to expand the bubble, but the pressure waxed greater. The sphere contracted with a jerk, once and then twice again. The forces gathered momentum, hurling inward, imploding him towards a featureless smooth mind and then non-existence.
Alodar reached for intense feelings to counteract the thrust. He thought of Aeriel's blistered face and torn hair. He remembered Periac's mindless stare in Bardina's town square. He saw Quantos fall on the deck of the royal barge, the warriors on the walls of Iron Fist, and all the others who resisted the demonic forces which swept from the west and south.
The inrushing walls slowed their acceleration but still continued collapsing. His thoughts merged together and distorted into incomprehensible babbles. In desperation he recalled the events of his own quest, the humiliation with which it started, the pain, fatigue and frustrations he had borne along the way. He tasted again the decision to shoulder the burden that Handar gave him, the trap for his relationship with Aeriel no matter what the outcome. All of these feelings squeezed out of the recesses of his mind and flowed into the determination with which he strained. Mentally he gritted his teeth. With a wrench, he tightened his grip about Elezar. As his horizon of consciousness closed in, he willed his knees up onto the demon's chest and gouged them into Elezar's stomach.
One by one, the efforts added to his defenses. And with each thought, each memory purged from its hiding place, the onslaught slowed. But onward it came, shredding memories, flattening the essence of his being. Alodar felt parts of himself distort and then fade away. But as he shrank, he tenaciously locked onto one thought and held it precisely. He pictured his vice-like grip and the breaking of Elezar's body.
As the last hint of consciousness flickered, Alodar screamed his defiance, willing all his muscles to aid in a back-cracking snap. Like an arrow shot skyward, reaching the zenith of its trajectory, the inrushing forces decelerated against the dense kernel they labored to crack. At the very limit of Alodar's existence they coasted to a halt.
For a long time, nothing more happened. Compressed to near madness but holding to his one thought, Alodar resisted the weight which would crush him and strained his arms towards his chest.
Finally, after how long he could not tell, he felt a slight lessening of pressure. Then, with a sudden rush, the blackness ballooned to its original size. As quickly as it had vanished, his personality inflated to its former shape and size. He waited for another attack, but the limit of his bubble was quiet and still. He hesitated a while longer and then decided to act. Cautiously he opened a pinprick in the blanket, a tiny tunnel by which a whisper could
