assured that we would survive the ordeal. Looks like I was right to trust him, wouldn't you say?'
Vhok grunted, unwilling to commit to an answer. The cambion instead looked around and changed the subject.
'So we freed ourselves,' he observed. 'Yet we have no guide and no map-only our imperfect memories of the route we wish to take and a vague sense of direction. Not very good odds.'
'I like them better now than when we were trapped in that palace. I think we might have gained an advantage by escaping so quickly. The half-dragon, and by extension his clan, is not expecting us to return. At least not any time soon. It could even be the case that he is delivering the arch key to another who wishes to possess or control us.'
The idea of a creature attempting to hold him prisoner infuriated Vhok. 'I still intend to flay Myshik alive when I catch up to him,' he said. 'Clan Morueme does not understand what sort of trouble they've heaped upon themselves.'
'As you wish,' Zasian replied. 'When we catch up to him, I'll hold him down for you. In the meantime,' he said, standing, 'let's be on our way.' The priest began scraping lava, hardened to a tarry substance, from his clothing and skin. 'Kurkle said this terrain didn't last long, but we should be wary of things lurking within it.'
'I'm prepared for it today,' Vhok said. He readied magic that would permit him to fly.
'A moment, my friend,' Zasian said, holding up his hand. 'Save your magic for later. I think I have just what we need.' He chanted a few phrases in some unholy language Vhok did not recognize, then touched the cambion once upon the shoulder.
The half-fiend felt no difference in his condition.
The priest repeated the ritual and touched himself. 'There,' he said. 'Observe.' He took a step forward, as though he were ascending a staircase. He rose from the ground and stood above Vhok. He took another step and another, climbing a bit each time. 'It's simple,' he said. 'Try it. Just imagine where you want to walk, and the air will hold you aloft.'
Vhok gave his counterpart an appraising look and turned his attention on himself. He envisioned a pathway beneath his feet that sloped upward, then stepped forward onto it. His foot struck something invisible and solid right where he had conjured it in his mind. 'Very creative,' he said, 'though not quite as fast as flying.'
'True,' Zasian replied as the two of them set out, rising high enough into the air to avoid the churning lava beneath them. 'But unless you thought to invoke that spell twice, you'd either leave me behind or lose whatever benefit of speed you gained by waiting for me. Besides,' the priest added, 'we can do this far longer.'
Vhok did not relish another day of walking, especially after the arduous experiences battling the bandits the previous day. But striding upon the air was smooth and easy, and without the need to observe the terrain beneath his feet, he could devote more time to studying their surroundings.
Islands stretched to the extent of the cambion's sight in every direction. From his higher vantage point, they reminded him more of bog lands than anything, though the solid ground was more barren. He wondered how deep the flow of molten rock was, and when he spotted some strange, large creature surfacing and submerging again, he knew the depth was considerable.
Later, a flock of flying creatures caught the half-fiend's attention. He could not get a good look at them, for they were distant and headed away from them, but they looked large and left a trail of smoke where they passed. He and Zasian opted to descend to a nearby patch of rocky island to wait for them to disappear. Neither wished to draw undue attention to themselves while exposed in the air. When the creatures were well out of sight, the pair continued on their way.
As they walked, both remained quiet, withdrawn into their own thoughts. Vhok brooded over the betrayal inflicted upon him, and fretted about developments beyond his ability to perceive or control. He did not often find himself so isolated and out of contact with his Scourged Legion, and he found the experience distasteful. He knew it was a necessary sacrifice in order to achieve the greater goal, but it rankled him.
The half-fiend's thoughts turned to Aliisza. Vhok wondered how she fared, whether she was even still alive. All that he worked for depended on her capture, and if anything went wrong, the entire scheme would be for naught. The notion of his plans crumbling down around him distressed him in many ways, but he also found himself worried for her well-being.
That and the baby she carried.
He wondered if she knew yet. He wondered what she thought of carrying his child in her womb. Was she happy? Did she bear any maternal instincts toward it? Vhok often doubted that a true fiend was capable of loving its offspring. He certainly felt little in the way of affection from his own mother.
Certainly not while I was slaying her, the cambion thought wryly.
But Aliisza was not a full fiend. She had her human side, as did he. Possibly, she would harbor some sense of protectiveness for her baby when it was born. He found himself hoping so. He truly would like to meet his child, perhaps raise it to serve him.
'Look,' Zasian said, drawing Vhok out of his thoughts. He peered where the priest pointed and saw that the terrain changed ahead of them. The sea of lava with its islands of barren, blackened rock gave way to gently rising ground covered in things that looked like trees.
That cannot be, the half-fiend thought. Nothing could grow here.
'What are those?' he asked.
'I confess I have no idea,' Zasian answered. 'We'll find out shortly, though.'
The pair continued their journey toward the rising ground. Before long, they set foot upon what Vhok could only consider to be the shore of the Islands. The ground was no different than anywhere else they had been within the plane thus far. It popped and crackled with radiant heat, and fissures crisscrossing its surface glowed with the light of deeper fire.
Vhok no longer paid attention to his footing. He was instead mesmerized by the treelike objects that spread before him. There were hundreds, a forest of them. Like trees, they sported a main trunk ascending from the ground. Numerous branches sprouted from the trunk at every conceivable angle, dividing into smaller and smaller branches until the smallest were no larger than the cambion's little finger.
Unlike any trees Vhok was familiar with, the things rising before him were formed of pure crystal.
They appeared in numerous colors, with white, pink, and purple predominating. They stood perfectly rigid, bending not the slightest bit as the acrid breezes blew through them.
Vhok approached the closest one and ran his hand along it. The razor-thin edge of the branch cut a perfect gash along his finger. The cambion jerked his hand back, swearing, as blood welled from the cut.
'That seems to bode ill for us,' Zasian remarked. 'I can't imagine that Kurkle intended to bring us this way. How did he expect to get us through this?'
'I don't know,' Vhok replied, sucking on his finger. 'Perhaps there is a trail to follow.'
'Ah, yes,' the priest said, nodding. 'Good thought. Let's use what little we have left of our aerial paths to seek one out. I'll head this way,' he offered, rising into the sky as he moved down the shoreline, 'and you go that way.'
Vhok moved back from the crystal trees and started off, using each step to climb higher into the sky as rapidly as he could. The cambion was soon puffing from the exertion, but he carried himself quite high above the world. He could see a good distance across the crystal forest, despite the haze and smoke. A dark line, unnaturally straight and cutting through the bizarre growth, caught his eye.
'There!' he called out, turning to look toward Zasian.
Three great flying things bore down on the priest, claws and beaks outstretched as though to rend him to bits.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Vhok broke into a run, racing to aid Zasian. As he sprinted, he pulled Burnblood free with one hand and the magical wand with the other. He raised the spiraling shaft of wood and uttered the trigger word. The cambion felt arcane power erupt from the wand, but the four glowing darts that shot forth dissipated with a sizzling pop.
Damn, Vhok thought, increasing his speed. Too far away.
