The angel's stomach roiled and he doubled over in agony.
All his limbs ached and lost their strength. He thought he would retch. Tauran stumbled away from the remaining demon and gasped for breath. The clinging, sickly blanket of darkness moved with him, filling his nostrils with horrific odors. He spat, trying and failing to expunge the awful, sour taste.
Slowly, the cloaking darkness evaporated, leaving the deva standing in the rain once more. His stomach still churned, but he could breathe again.
Tauran turned toward the tent and saw the demon flailing about blindly with his axe. The beast stopped and listened, cocking his head to one side for a moment, then swung the huge blade once more. The massive axe whistled through the air, seeking flesh to cleave.
The angel left his feet and soared above the demon. He ascended sharply and swung the mace with all his might, once more drawing upon the holy power of Tyr to aid him. The crushing blow landed true, right against the back of the demon's head, and he heard the satisfying sound of crunching bone as the thing's skull collapsed.
With a sickening plop, the demonic toad sprawled forward into the mud and quivered. The beast's axe slid to one side, no longer needed.
Tauran spun away from the creature and approached the opening of the tent. Not knowing what other defenders might be lurking within, he nudged the flap sideways with the head of his mace, expecting an assault at any moment. When no attack was forthcoming, the deva stepped inside and drew the flap shut behind himself.
The dimness of the tent did not hinder the angel. His acute vision allowed him to easily discern the interior. He gave a quick glance in the direction of a table with maps spread upon it, but the figure before him, languishing upon numerous rugs and cushions, interested him most.
He stepped nearer.
'No closer,' the figure said. 'Your stench is awful enough from this distance.' It was the voice of a woman, though she sounded husky, tired. A cough followed by several wheezing gasps confirmed what he already knew.
She was wounded, dying.
Tauran paused to let her show herself fully. A human torso and head rose up into a sitting position, her six arms pushing her upright. Where her legs should have been, twenty feet of reptilian flesh writhed in discomfort. The massive, coiled body might have been capable of crushing him, had she been hale and hearty, but Tauran saw an arrow protruding from her chest directly beneath one bare breast. It penetrated her from front to back, and though very little blood leaked from the wound, he knew the missile was killing her.
It was also holding her there, preventing her from traveling back to the plane from whence she had come. She could seek no solace, no rescue among her own kind in the Abyss.
'You're dying,' Tauran said, taking another step toward the fiend. 'I can help you,' he said. 'I can ease your suffering.'
'Stay back!' the demon snarled, and she hoisted swords in several of her hands. The blades shook, would not stay on guard.
Tauran looked at her face, saw the pain glazing her eyes. She might have been beautiful, had she been fully human. Even half-human in shape, she was attractive. But her dark hair hung in bedraggled clumps from her head, and her skin was sallow and glistened with the sweat of sickness. She swallowed hard, then groaned and collapsed back upon her pillows.
'Gloat and get it over with,' she mumbled, closing her eyes. 'I don't have much time left.'
Tauran shook his head, though he knew she did not see. 'I am not interested in dancing on your grave. I cannot even claim the honor of having fired the arrow that leeches your life away.'
'Then what do you want?' she asked, her eyes still closed, her voice growing more hoarse by the moment. 'Whatever it is, I won't give it to you.'
'It's not yours to give,' Tauran replied, 'but if you do not fight me, I will ease your final moments before claiming it.'
The demon opened one eye and looked at him. 'No,' she said simply. 'I would never bargain with your kind.' She coughed, tried to catch her breath, coughed again. Blood dribbled from her lip. When she regained her breath, she said, 'That you would try to bargain tells me it is very special to you. You have piqued my curiosity. Tell me what you want. Perhaps I will make an exception and give it to you, just this once.'
Tauran breathed in and out slowly. He was obligated to give her the chance, though he knew that revealing his desire would most likely enrage her, making his task that much harder. But he was obligated.
'The child growing in your womb,' he said.
Both of the demon's eyes flew open then, and she shrieked in realization. 'No!' she screamed, and the coils of her body twitched to life, writhing and whipping around the tent.
Tauran had to leap into the air to avoid being struck.
'Never!' the demon cried.
She rose up, her blades out, as though ready to fight him to the last. He braced himself for the duel, but then he saw the cunning gleam in her eye.
Just as she began to reverse the blades and drive them into her own body, to slice the burgeoning life out of herself to deny it to the angel, he reacted. With explosive force, he flung the mace forward, channeling every bit of strength, both natural and preternatural, that he could muster.
The weapon sailed across the space between them. Tauran watched it tumble through the air as though it moved in slow motion. The blades of the demon's long swords descended, and the mace moved closer.
The head of the angel's weapon collided with the once-beautiful face at the same moment that the tips of several swords punctured her scaly skin. An explosion of blood and flesh spattered the cushions, the rugs, and the tent wall as the demons head disintegrated.
The muscles in her arms kept working for a heartbeat longer.
The blades sank deeply into flesh. The two life-forces that were there, one inside the other, grew faint, then vanished. The unborn child was lost to him, slain by its own mother.
Tauran hung his head in sorrow for a long moment, reminding himself that the easy path was not always the one set before him.
He turned, grief and disappointment hanging heavy around him, and departed, returning to the House of the Triad to report that he had failed.
CHAPTER ONE
Thin, wispy clouds scurried across the night sky, passing in front of gibbous Selune and deepening the gloom upon the land below. Aliisza glanced up, careful as she shifted on her perch upon an outcropping of stone. The alu-fiend didn't want to dislodge loose rubble beneath her feet. Though invisible, she feared clattering stones would reveal her position to anyone below and thus spoil the ambush. The notion of ruining her little trap annoyed the half-demon for an instant, but she dismissed the thought in the time it took to reassure herself that she had made no sound.
She could still make out the pale, glowing near-orb, though the high clouds diffused its light and encircled it with a strange halo. At any other time, she might have taken a moment to marvel at the strange sight. The alu strayed to the surface of Toril only rarely and had few opportunities to gaze upon such useless but intriguing wonders. That night, however, she could not long keep her attention away from the impending clash in the narrow valley below. Fingering the hilt of her sword in anticipation, she turned to stare downward once more.
To all but fiendish eyes, the approaching Sundabarian patrol had vanished. Moonlight no longer glimmered off a bared blade or polished helm, but Aliisza had no trouble locating the darker shadows gliding silently through the murk of night. The mounted figures moved in single file along the path in the center of the valley. They rode without caution, never hesitating as they approached the defile where Aliisza and her invisible tanarukk soldiers waited.
The half-fiend put a magical whistle to her lips and blew it as hard as she could. The shrill tone that emanated from the device echoed all through the defile, piercing the otherwise still and quiet night. Almost
