Chapter Twenty-Four

Do You Love Me?

Mirana was still a little dazed from whatever Vahdrak had done to her. She thought that she was hallucinating, because it looked as if Vylgranox had somehow come back from the dead.

Had they not made sure he was dead? Marci had cleaved his skull open, he had to be dead!

She blinked furiously, trying to clear her eyes.

It was Vylgranox, she could see that now. But it was not Vylgranox as she remembered him. Now his eyes were full of a terrible green light, they were eyes she knew.

They were Terrorblade's eyes.

Terrorblade had possessed Vylgranox's corpse.

Mirana snatched up her bow and nocked an arrow. Davion, or rather, Slyrak, stood ahead of them. Vahdrak had turned to face Terrorblade too.

Mirana glimpsed movement out of the corner of her eye and saw Marci moving forwards. She was clutching her side, and Mirana gasped when she saw blood seeping from between her fingers. She was hurt! Had Vahdrak attacked her? He would pay for that!

It was then that she realised that there was blood on her hand, and that her dagger…

It was lying on the ground, its tip wet with blood. Marci's blood.

Mirana almost dropped her bow. That couldn't be right! She would never hurt Marci. Never!

'You must be the infamous Terrorblade,' Vahdrak was sneering. 'You haven't improved Vylgranox's looks much. He's still ugly.'

'I use the tools that I have, Son of Madness, much as the Firestorm uses his.' Terrorblade chuckled. 'I came here to claim your soul. Would you rather I took Slyrak's?'

Vahdrak growled. 'Obviously, I would. But you'd come for me later.'

'Must we be enemies, Vahdrak? We are both of the Darkness. We could be allies. We could be unstoppable. I could make you the sole Eldwurm.'

'Enough prattle, Demon. I am many things, but I am not stupid. You need my soul as much as you need Slyrak's.' He bared his fangs. 'So why don't we, as humans say, shut the fuck up, and get on with this?'

Terrorblade chortled. 'You only delay the inevitable, Vahdrak. I hope you are ready to die.'

Vahdrak turned his head, fixing Slyrak with a single red eye. 'You owe me for this, Slyrak. Give my regards to my successor.' He did not waste another word, he beat his wings and swooped down upon Terrorblade.

Terrorblade's avatar was larger, but Vahdrak was swifter. The two of them grappled, Vahdrak sinking his claws into Terrorblade's leg and biting into his flank. Terrorblade snarled and slashed at him with his claws.

'Go!' Slyrak roared. 'Run!'

'This way!' Aiushtha cried, waving her staff.

'But—' Mirana began.

'Now is not the time,' Purist seized her arm. 'If we stay we die.' He indicated Marci with his eyes. 'All of us.'

Mirana knew that he was right. With Vylgranox's power, Terrorblade would overpower Vahdrak. Davion had said that other Eldwurms had been slain by him, which meant that he had likely taken their powers too, and now he had a vessel which could channel them.

They were all tired, and Marci was injured. Purist was right, they could not win.

'Marci!' Mirana called. 'Let's go!'

Marci tugged on Slyrak's arm. Slyrak did not argue, but he did not move either. Marci tugged on his arm again.

'Go,' Slyrak ordered. 'I will follow.'

Marci shook her head and pulled his arm again. Slyrak turned his head and narrowed his yellow eyes. 'I will return him to you, handmaiden. Now go.'

Marci stared up at him, then released his arm. She turned and ran to Mirana, and they took off after Aiushtha. Sagan bounded with them.

Terrorblade hurled Vahdrak into a tree and ran at them. Slyrak moved to intercept him. He drove his fist into Terrorblade's face, but the Demon took it stoically and smacked him aside with his tail.

Marci moved to defend Mirana, ignoring the blood coursing from her side. Sagan roared and extended his claws to their full length.

'Where do you two think you are going?' Terrorblade sneered. 'Come now, Princess, would you not like to hear my offer? There is so much I could give you! So much you deserve! Your throne, for a start, that could be yours. It should be yours. I could give you what your heart truly desires,' he chuckled, 'and the heart of the one you—'

Mirana loosed her arrow straight into his nose. Terrorblade snarled. 'So be it, Princess! Die with your wishes unfulfilled! I will start with your beloved pet first!'

Marci's eyes started to flare with light. Mirana pulled back her bowstring again, the bow thrumming with power.

A crimson fist slammed into Terrorblade's head again. A black shape latched onto his tail, sinking in its teeth.

Terrorblade roared and slashed at Slyrak, scattering scales and spraying blood. He kicked Vahdrak, sending him reeling.

Mirana loosed her arrow. The tip glowed blue as it flew, and when it struck Terrorblade, the light flared, crackling tendrils snapping across his scales, causing fissures to erupt across them.

Mirana heard another roar, a familiar roar, and saw a dark shape rushing towards them. Not Vahdrak, something smaller and feline, with a rider upon its back.

Vahdrak leapt away from Terrorblade, his snout gouged and one wing torn. He leapt and took to the air as Terrorblade sundered the earth under him, trying to gouge him with spires of rock.

Vahdrak wheeled around, diving at Terrorblade. Terrorblade emitted a blast of air, throwing him back into the muck. Snarling, Vahdrak rose and threw himself at Terrorblade.

The rider wove between them, seemingly unnoticed as Eldwurm and Demon fought. She slashed at Terrorblade with a long blade, directing her night-beast with one hand on the reins. 'What are you bloody waiting for?' Luna yelled. 'Run!'

Marci seized Mirana and threw her unceremoniously across Sagan's back before pulling herself up too. She whistled sharply and Sagan took off.

Slyrak halted at Terrorblade smashed Vahdrak into the ground and turned on him again. Before the Demon could attack, Vahdrak rose again and threw himself at Terrorblade, staggering him, biting and clawing in a mad frenzy. 'Get after them, you fool!'

Slyrak spared him just a brief nod before turning and running after the two night-beasts. Vahdrak continued to grapple with Terrorblade, not even scared that this would be his final fight. He couldn't even summon any chaos dragons to help, there were none around, none close enough to be of help. For once, their uncooperative natures worked against him.

It didn't matter. He was content to go down fighting.

He could feel it growing in his head. This avatar was starting to feel the Madness. He could sense the awareness building within, it might rebel against him soon.

No, he was Chaos made manifest. This avatar was his to control, and he embraced the Madness gladly. Roaring, he dug his claws in Terrorblade, tearing scales and chunks of flesh free. No reason, no logic, just a terrible desire to kill.

If he was going to die, why not die insane?

The song was changing. There was a loud, urgent note, a call. Even as Vahdrak grappled with Terrorblade and started to lose himself to the Madness, he heard it: new notes.

A response.

Terrorblade reared up, seizing Vahdrak in his claws and pulling him free. Blood spilled into the mud and foul water, black and grey scales falling. Terrorblade fell forwards, slamming Vahdrak down and crushing him under his bulk. Bones snapped and scales splintered.

Vahdrak howled as Terrorblade pressed him deeper into the mud.

Terrorblade laughed, harsh and cruel.

Vahdrak whipped his head around and sank his fangs into Terrorblade's neck. Terrorblade growled, ripped Vahdrak away and drove his claws into Vahdrak's chest.

Vahdrak was aware of three things as he died.

The first was the pain as Terrorblade ripped out his heart.

The second was his soul beginning to seep from his body, and the excruciating agony as Terrorblade drew it into his own soul and began to feed upon it.

The last was the sight of something in the distance. A shape. Large and winged. Arrayed in blood red scales.

Clever Slyrak, Vahdrak thought as his life faded away, he'd had the brains to call for reinforcements.


'This way!' Aiushtha yelled. 'Down here!' She was leading into a tunnel, obviously something had burrowed into the earth. Whatever had made the burrow, Aiushtha had decided to take her chances with it instead of Terrorblade.

'Where's Mirana?' Fymryn cried. 'And Marci?'

Purist started to drag his horse towards the burrow. 'They're behind us. Trust me, Fymryn.'

Even as he spoke, Fymryn heard Sagan hurtling towards them, carrying Mirana and Marci. Despite the extra weight of his saddlebags, he ran as fast as he would have done unladen.

Behind them was another night-beast, bearing a rider carrying a long blade.

She was wearing different armour now, but Fymryn recognised the long white hair bound in a tail, the pale, angular face and the violet eyes.

The Commander of Selemene's Moon Riders. The one who had led the massacre of Coedwig.

For just a moment, Fymryn wanted to kill her, as she had done during the Battle of the Nightsilver Woods. She could have done it easily. One shadow arc, and she would cut the Moon Rider and her night-beast in half.

'She's an ally,' Purist told her. 'Don't.'

Perhaps he had noticed her grip on Dawn's Bane tighten. Maybe the Omniscience had warned him. It did not matter. She had spared the woman once, she had no reason to kill her now, not if she was going to help them against Terrorblade.

Fymryn hurried into the tunnel, the two night-beasts thundering in after her.

The white-haired woman spun her night-beast around, her blade ready. 'That red thing isn't far behind. Marci, secure this den and keep an eye on the Princess.'

'It's empty,' Aiushtha stated. 'It's a thunderhide nesting den, they move out when they're adults.'

'Then guard her, Marci,' the woman's night-beast growled and bared her fangs. 'That thing is coming. I'll draw it off and—'

'Wait!' Caewyn moved up to the entrance. 'Listen!'

Eserren lifted her visor. 'Fire dragon,' her eyes widened. 'By the gods! The gas!'

'Here it comes!' The Moon Rider gripped her blade with both hands as Slyrak came running towards them.

'No, Luna! Don't!' Mirana seized the Moon Rider's arm. 'He's a friend!'

'What?'

Slyrak's decision to let Davion take control did not help her to understand. Before Luna's eyes, the scales receded and the dragon-like creature shrunk. The bat-like wings folded away, as did the long tail.

Davion staggered and tripped. Marci spurred Sagan out of the tunnel and into the open. She reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him onto Sagan's back. She spun him around, back towards the tunnel.

They all heard roaring and crashing. As Marci rode back with Davion, two colossal shapes smashed through the trees, spraying mud and water as they wrestled amongst the muck and gas, pulping Fae-bred plants under them. The fire dragon was being crushed against the ground, with Terrorblade trying to rip out his throat.

The dragon turned his head, his orange eyes alighting upon Davion as he looked over his shoulder. Some sort of understanding seemed to pass between them, their thoughts merging in the Thunder.

Slyrak had summoned him, the nearest fire dragon, an old dragon, for one reason alone: to buy them time.

'All wars require sacrifice.' Slyrak whispered. 'Yours will be remembered, kindred.'

Sagan tumbled into the cave, skidding and falling onto his side, throwing Marci and Davion clear, scattering supplies across the floor.

'He's going to burn him!' Davion shouted.

Aiushtha pushed past Luna and Nova and whirled her staff. Purist joined her, kneeling and holding his hammer aloft. The air began to billow around them, pushing outwards. A shimmering field began to form around Purist, filling the entrance. His lips moved, the words of his prayer lost amidst the gale Aiushtha was creating.

'Everybody get back!' Aiushtha yelled. 'Run down the tunnel! Get behind something!'

With Vylgranox's power, Terrorblade could suppress the magical powers of the dragons. But a fire dragon's ability to breathe fire was not mystical. It was biological.

The old dragon opened his mouth, an orange glow rising up his throat, and exhaled.

Terrorblade realised what was happening and beat his wings, thrashing against the foul air, rising above the dragon as fire erupted from his jaws.

Aiushtha screwed her eyes shut. Purist chanted louder.

The air around the dragon exploded.

It was that sudden. The gas ignited and the air was full of fire, expanding outwards and upwards, surging everywhere. The whole of the Devil's Armpit was aflame in moments. No inch of the swamps was left unscathed.

Columns of flame now rose from the ground, the vents emitting the gases now indefinitely set alight. The Devil's Armpit would never be the same again.


Terrorblade had to use Aethrak's power to protect himself, but the flames still scorched his vessel's belly, blackening the iron-grey slabs of scale. He rose above the conflagration, hissing with pain as he flew into the clouds.

Slyrak had saved himself again. He was nothing if not cunning, not like Vahdrak. It was one thing he and Byssrak had in common: the ability to play a long game.

Terrorblade could not chase them down the thunderhide tunnel. He could wait for them to emerge, but they would not be that stupid. The cervitaur obviously knew this area very well, she would not have led them into a dead end.

They weren't going to emerge from that exit, and with Slyrak hiding in Davion's soul, they would be hard to detect.

But that did not matter. He knew where they were going, and he had an inkling of what they were planning, for he could hear the Thunder now and then, not as much as a dragon would, but enough.

He had what he had come for: Vahdrak's soul. Slyrak could wait a little longer.

In truth, it actually benefited Terrorblade to let him go. If he reached Dragon Keep and enacted his plan…

Terrorblade's vessel grinned, despite the smoke rising from seared flesh. He had an army, and he knew how to unlock its full potential.

This would end at Dragon Keep.

Fitting.


'If it was going to be easy, I wouldn't have come here to ask.' Auroth stated.

Demnok chuckled. 'If you do not understand your enemy, they become harder to defeat.' He started to move slowly around the desk. 'Demons are actually simple creatures, not unlike us. We claim to have higher reasoning, but why do we do anything?' He looked to Rylai and raised his eyebrows.

'Instinct?'

'Sometimes. But you missed my point. We have higher reasoning. So tell me, why do we do anything?'

'Because we want to.' Auroth answered quietly.

'Exactly. There are things we must do. We must breathe. Eat. Drink. But most of all, we are driven by what we want to do. Demons are creatures of want. Their natures determine their desires.'

'And what does Terrorblade want, other than power?'

Demnok chuckled again. 'Perhaps, if you knew his true name, you would not need to ask that question. Terrorblade is not his true name. It's a moniker he adopted to better deal with mortals, and to sow fear both amongst us and his own kind.'

'I'm guessing that it's a translation of his true name?'

'Not quite. Not all Demons literally translate their own names. Pudge does not. His true name means "Butcher". Appropriate, but not the same as the name he gives to mortals.'

Auroth frowned. 'And what does Terrorblade's mean? And how does it help us?'

'His true name is Kasovhakaan.' When Demnok uttered the name, the air thrummed. Auroth felt her eardrums throb and Rylai winced. 'And the exact meaning of his name varies depending on which dialect of Ozkavosh one uses.' He poured himself a goblet of something, Auroth noticed that it was smoking. Demnok drank from the goblet before speaking again. 'On the Plain of Suffering, it means "Devourer", and that fits with his most potent ability: he can consume souls, not just for sustenance, but also for power. This may explain some unusual rumours I've heard.' He glanced at Auroth, and she did not like what he implied, or the intensity of his yellow gaze. 'In the Caverns of Regret, his name translates as "Conqueror", and has been likened to an unstoppable army's worth of destruction. On the Slopes of Desolation, he is called "Ambition". But perhaps, most tellingly, in the Basilica of Malediction, he is called "Reclaimer".'

'Reclaimer?' Rylai raised her eyebrows. 'Reclaimer of what?'

Demnok sighed. 'Auroth, have you taught her nothing?'

'Auroth has taught me plenty.' Rylai argued, nettled.

'She's loyal.' Demnok approved. 'Do you want to tell her, or shall I?'

Auroth bristled. 'Demons have never held a claim on this realm, no matter what they may say.'

'Some of them believe otherwise.' Demnok said, draining his goblet. Smoke still rose from within as he set it down. 'Demons were born of fragments of the Primal Mind, as were the gods, as were your progenitors, Auroth. They are a part of Creation, whether you like to admit it or not. And many of them have always resented the Eldwurms for being so favoured, for being the Pillars of Creation. The only true difference to them is that the dragons came first.'

'I suppose that Terrorblade believes that the world should belong to Demons?' Rylai assumed.

'It's fairer to say that he covets the power of the Eldwurms, but he is not so foolish as to hate blindly. Terrorblade is not the oldest of Demons, but he is gifted. It is his ability to consume souls and their power which made him so powerful, and caused his own kindred to turn on him. He has no love for them. What he desires, he desires only for himself.'

'What does killing the Eldwurms gain him, other than their power?' Auroth asked.

'So it is true.' Demnok murmured. 'Surely you can guess?'

'He wants to take charge of Creation, yes.' Auroth waved a hand. 'But there must be more to it than that.'

'Perhaps.'

'Terrorblade wants all of Creation, we know this.' Auroth said. 'How does any of this help us to stop him?'

'I told you. You must understand your enemy to defeat them.' Demnok answered calmly. 'Terrorblade will stop at nothing to achieve his goal. But it is not just his nature. He has been imprisoned for millennia. If you were in his position, would you not wish to escape?'

'Yes,' Auroth nodded. 'But if he can escape his prison, how do we imprison him again?'

Demnok considered. He opened one of the drawers on his desk and pulled out a heavy tome, covered with thick chains. He opened it and peered at the runes scrawled within. Auroth at first thought that the pages were made of velum, but she had the uneasy feeling that they were made of human skin. The runes etched upon the pages made her eyes hurt. Ozkavosh again.

'Terrorblade's prison, Foulfell, is a prison filled with mirrors, always taunting him. Indulge me, Rylai. Tell me, what do you see in a window?'

'Whatever is outside of it.' Rylai answered warily.

'And? Suppose that you cover one side of it completely, with something opaque, something dark. What do you see then?'

'Nothing.' Rylai frowned. Her eyebrows lifted half a second later. 'My reflection.'

'Yes. Exactly. You have turned your window into a mirror. My guess would be that Terrorblade has figured out how to turn his mirrors into windows.'

'Like a scrying spell.'

'Indeed. You see beyond your own sight when you scry. Terrorblade obviously cannot leave Foulfell, his kin would be at war with him if he could. And Demons cannot sustain their true forms in the mortal world. But he can force a piece of his soul through his mirrors.'

'And take corpses and living creatures as hosts.'

'Corpses are the easiest objects for a Demon to possess. But a living host would have to be willing, which is why Demons tempt the foolish with bargains they never intend to fulfil. In both cases, his vessel will eventually wither and decay. He does not create life in his hosts, and a living body cannot hold a Demon for long, with certain exceptions. An Eldwurm, for example, would be capable of harnessing the power he desires.'

Auroth inhaled sharply.

'Eldwurms can be killed, you know this.' Demnok continued. 'You have my condolences, Auroth.'

Auroth stared at him. 'When did you know?'

'I guessed years ago.' Demnok replied. 'A wyvern with a soul of her own? A most unusual occurrence. The children of an Eldwurm are as ordinary dragons: vessels waiting for a soul. You could only be the child of two Eldwurms. Something only known of in myth.'

Auroth waved her hand again. 'Demnok, I could discuss this with you another day. But we have little time. How do we stop—'

'The mirrors.'

They both gazed at Rylai, whose eyes were wide, her excitement tempered by anxiety. 'If the mirrors have become his windows into this world, then we have to destroy them. If Terrorblade cannot see into this world, he cannot enter it.'

Demnok gave her a single, slow nod. 'Very good, Rylai, very good. Auroth was right to take you as her pupil, though I still say that you would have been a valuable addition here.'

'But there is a problem.' Rylai continued. 'How would a mortal travel into Foulfell, and should they destroy the mirrors, how would they escape?'

'Now that is a problem.' Demnok agreed. 'And one which I may have a solution for. Foulfell is meant to be inaccessible. Demons have no need of sustenance as we do. Though perhaps, if Terrorblade can pass through the mirrors, somebody else could learn to do so, unless you mean to enlist the aid of a Demon.' He cocked his head, his wide mouth curling into a menacing half-smile. 'Perhaps I could be of help in this regard?'

'You would aid us?' Auroth asked warily.

'I cannot help your directly. But I can provide you with assistance: Warlocks and Fell-Speakers.'

'You would risk angering Terrorblade?'

'I hold no contract with him, and opposing him would not anger my patrons, for they are his enemies too. Only a few would stand with him.' Demnok slid the tome across the desk. 'Take this with you when you go. The ones I send with you will know what to do. I know that you do not trust my pupils, but rest assured that I and my fellows need this world intact to achieve our ambitions. In this fight, we are allies.'

'Then why not help us yourself?' Rylai inquired. Auroth shot her a look, but there was no taking back her words.

'Because I have prior commitments. Commitments of equal magnitude. But of those, I am sworn not to speak.'

Auroth spoke before Rylai could. 'We appreciate your help, Master Lannik. Thank you.' She started to bow, then paused. 'There is one more thing I need to ask.'

'Go on.'

'What use would a Demon have for a Direstone?'

Demnok raised his eyebrows. 'I would have thought that would be obvious. There is much a Demon could do with a Direstone. The Dire agrees with their natures. If Terrorblade has a Direstone, he can draw power from it, or put its power to use.

Direstones are almost living things in their own right, they have wills of their own. It is why they are usually found with walking corpses protecting them, and why they turn others into revenants. Each time a Direstone drains a life, its power and influence grows. I had heard rumours of an army of unliving beings causing havoc in Kestren. I assume that these rumours are true.'

'They are.'

'Such an army will difficult to defeat.'

'Terrorblade would not rely solely on numbers, would he?'

'He is nothing if not ambitious. My Fell-Speakers have heard whispers amongst the denizens of the Hells. Some of them are preparing for something. Whatever this occurrence is, they speak often of a place they call the Serpent's Maw.'

Auroth's eyes widened. 'That's what they used to call Knight's Hearth! Before the city was built, it was a dragon nest.'

'Some of my Warlocks have already gone there to investigate. They have found nothing so far.'

Rylai stepped forwards, her eyes still wide. 'Could Terrorblade summon other Demons?'

'It is possible.'

'And dead bodies are the easiest for them to possess.'

'Correct.'

Auroth gasped. 'He's going to make his army stronger! If he can overwhelm Knight's Hearth...'

Demnok held out the tome. 'It was interesting to speak to you again, Auroth, and I am pleased to have made your acquaintance at last, Rylai. But you had best make haste.'

Auroth took the tome, ignoring the way her flesh crawled when it touched the blood-warm cover. 'We can reach Knight's Hearth in four days.'

'You will be too late, Auroth. If the Fell-Speakers are to be believed, Terrorblade will be there in two days. Knight's Hearth is already doomed.'


Lina was still pacing impatiently when she knocked on the door. 'Enter.'

Drysi stepped inside and quietly shut the door behind her. 'Hello, Lina.' Her smile was mustered more for Lina's benefit. She must have noticed that something was amiss before Lina had asked to see her. 'What's wrong?'

Lina hesitated. Normally, she had no problem speaking her mind. But Draxius had given her too much to doubt. 'I… I wanted to speak to you. Because I can trust you.'

Drysi cocked her head. 'That's not something I have heard in a long time. Smugglers are supposed to be dishonest, aren't they?'

Lina did not laugh. 'You are a friend, though, whatever you may have been before.'

'You've been out of sorts for a couple of days now.' Drysi moved her hand from behind her back, showing Lina the bottle of wine she had brought. 'Perhaps a drink might help?'

'Quathi?'

Drysi smirked. 'What else?'

Lina felt a small smile twitch across her lips. She found two goblets and walked to the balcony. Drysi followed, uncorking the bottle as she went. 'I can't help but like it here, despite all the pressures we're under. Every view from this place is amazing.'

'Yes.' Lina agreed. 'On a clear day, I could sometimes see this place from Misrule.' She sipped from her goblet. 'Drysi… I need to ask you something.'

'Please do. I'm not the only one who is worried about you.'

'Kashurra?'

'He doesn't miss much. He told me about the Bloody Dance. He says that he never wants to make such a mistake again.'

'I can understand that.' Lina murmured, wondering if he knew what Draxius had spoken of. Who knew? Kashurra could be slippery when he wanted to be. 'Do you trust me, Drysi?'

'Of course I do. We fought together. We bled together. And we are friends.'

Lina sighed. 'Neither of us know Mirana.'

'No, but we will do.' Drysi smiled. 'Is that what's bothering you? You're nervous about meeting her? Kashurra says that she's kind, and I'm sure she'll be grateful.'

Lina turned her goblet in her fingers, watching the wine swirl within. 'Some people don't trust her, or any royals now. Not after what Shabarra did.'

Drysi nodded. 'I suppose that they can't be blamed, not after Ascension Day. It's up to us, and Mirana, to restore their faith.'

'You believe that she should retake the Solar Throne.'

'Yes. Don't you? Mirana is the true heir, and she can't be any worse than Shabarra.'

'Maybe not.'

Drysi raised her eyebrows. 'Is that what's worrying you, Lina? You're afraid that she's going to turn out like Shabarra? Maybe worse?'

Lina nodded.

Drysi gave her hand a squeeze. 'We cannot, and should not, judge her before she returns. Maybe she will have changed. Maybe she hasn't. We should give her a chance to show us what kind of person she is now. And I very much doubt that she'll be like Shabarra. If the rumours are accurate, she can make friends, which is more than Shabarra was able to do.'

Lina allowed herself to smile. 'True.' She squeezed Drysi's hand in return. 'All right. We'll see what happens.' She lifted her goblet. 'Thank you, Drysi, for listening, and for your help.'

Drysi smiled and tapped her goblet against Lina's. 'Anytime, my friend. Anytime.'

Lina still had her doubts. But Drysi was right. It would be better to wait, at least until Mirana reached Rasolir.

If Draxius was right about her, that would be the best time to strike.

Lina hoped that it wouldn't be necessary. But if it was, she would not allow another tyrant to take the Solar Throne, and if that meant taking the throne from Mirana, then so be it.

The people of the Imperium were following her now. They might continue to do so if Mirana proved to be unworthy as a ruler.

'Another?' Drysi held out the bottle.

Lina smiled and held out her goblet. 'If nothing else, I'm happy to have a friend with a good taste in wine.'

'At least I'm good for something.'

Lina chuckled with her. 'To friendship.'

'To friendship.' Drysi grinned. 'And good wine.'


'Will somebody tell me what the fuck is happening?'

'Good things come to those who wait,' Caewyn chirped. Luna scoffed and scowled at her. 'Where are Aiushtha and Purist?'

'I'm going to find them.' Eserren announced, taking up her bardiche. 'Stay here.'

'Marci,' Mirana guided Marci down and lifted her tunic. 'Oh, Marci! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it. I would never hurt you, not willingly.'

Marci lifted her hand and wiped the tears from Mirana's cheeks. She smiled and signed at her. Luna was not sure what she was saying, she had never bothered to learn any of the signs or whistles Marci used, but she had picked up a few things watching her and Mirana converse—not easy, since Mirana could often tell what Marci wanted to say just by reading her face.

Mirana sniffled. Luna assumed that Marci was forgiving her or something like that. The trust between them was something Luna actually envied. She'd never shared a bond like that with anybody, not even Lhara or Selemene. 'Thank you. I'll fight harder next time, I promise.'

'There might not be a next time, unless Terrorblade can steal that power too.' The skin-changing Dragon Knight, Luna had heard them call him Davion, muttered darkly. 'Vahdrak is dead. We felt him die.'

'We?' Caewyn noted. 'Is Slyrak talking to you now?'

'More than he was before.'

Luna shook her head and sighed. 'The simple bits then. Please.'

'There's nothing simple about this, Luna.' Mirana said, busy seeing to Marci's wound. 'What are you doing here?'

'Isn't that obvious, Princess?' Luna grimaced. 'Selemene asked me to find you.'

'She wants me back? What about Marci?'

'She wants you back, yes, but that's not what she asked of me.' Luna set her kriegsmesser against the wall. 'She asked me to find you and protect you, to help you to reclaim the Solar Throne.'

'You too?' Fymryn stared at her. 'Why does this Solar Throne matter so much?'

'Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you.'

'Hey,' Davion reached out and held Fymryn back. 'Play nicely.' He turned to Luna. 'All right, I'll try to keep it simple. There's a Demon out there called Terrorblade...'

Luna snorted. Caewyn smirked. 'I know! It's a silly name, isn't it?'

'He's the one possessing that grey dragon. He's hunting the Eldwurms. He wants their souls.'

'Let me guess. He wants to end the world?'

'Close enough. He might as well if he gets what he wants.' Davion shrugged. 'But one of them is part of me now.'

Luna stared at him, her violet eyes widening. 'Seriously?'

'Seriously. You saw me change. Slyrak took over out there.'

'Why doesn't he take over for good?'

'He can't. I'm still human, I can't stay in the hybrid form indefinitely, not yet. Not until he takes over completely.'

Marci whistled and shook her head.

'I know, Marci. I know.' Davion acknowledged. 'I don't want that either.'

Mirana stood up, wiping her bloody hands on her tunic. 'Luna, It may well be time for me to go home. I can accept that, no matter how much it scares me. But if we don't stop Terrorblade, the Solar Throne and whatever my taking it means won't matter. And he's winning, Luna. He's killed four Eldwurms now. He has their powers, along with Vylgranox's.'

'I'll explain later.' Davion muttered as Luna opened her mouth. Eserren was returning, supporting Purist. The Omniknight's armour was blackened, and a livid burn marred the left side of his jaw and neck. Aiushtha seemed to have fared better.

'Purist!' Mirana hurried to his side. 'How bad is it?'

'Don't worry about me, Princess.' Purist coughed. 'I will recover.'

'He saved my life.' Aiushtha declared. 'If not for him and his Omniscience, I wouldn't be standing here now.'

'I would not have withstood that firestorm alone, Aiushtha.' Purist said as Mirana and Marci helped him into a sitting position. 'The Omniscience was right to send me to you.'

Luna sighed heavily. 'First, Dragon Knights. Then Dragon Knights with dragons in them. Then I find out that this Nightblade is supposed to be on our side. Now it's Omniknights and cervitaurs. Whatever next? Actual dragons working with us? Gods?'

Marci whistled, then reached out and tapped Luna's brigandine vest, raising an eyebrow inquiringly.

'You should know. You've seen the bleeding moon.'

Marci raised her other eyebrow.

Luna grimaced. 'I left the Order. Happy now?'

'You did what?' Mirana demanded.

Luna scowled. 'Don't judge me, Mirana. I had my reasons. If you knew—'

'Stop!' Mirana hissed.

'Or what? You're not my superior now, Princess.'

'Now is not the time.' Eserren stated. 'Settle down. I have no love for Selemene either, but this is getting us nowhere.'

'Eserren is right.' Davion agreed. 'Purist, can you walk?'

Purist leaned on his hammer as he stood. 'Yes.'

'Then we had better leave. We're not far from Dragon Keep now, are we, Aiushtha?'

'It's a week's journey on foot. Maybe less if we're lucky.'

'Terrorblade has Vahdrak's soul too now. We need to move quickly. Luna, we'll explain more on the way, all right?'

Luna scowled. 'Fine. But this had better be worthwhile.'

Aiushtha stepped past them, peering into the tunnel. 'I need some light.'

Davion, Mirana and Eserren ejected their glowing shards. Marci approached Aiushtha and closed her eyes. Luna stared as honey-coloured light started to seep from her skin, bathing the tunnel walls in a soft glow. 'When did she learn to do that? And don't say that you'll tell me later.'

'Just wait until we're out of the tunnel.' Aiushtha said. 'I don't think there are any thunderhides down here, but I could be wrong.'

Luna scowled again, but did not argue. She took Nova's reins and led her after the others.

She had thought that she had prepared for the unexpected. But how could she have expected this lunacy?


In the end, Aiushtha's caution, though wise, was unwarranted. If there had been any young thunderhides in the area, they had moved on long ago.

Luna spent most of the journey wondering what she had missed, and pondering how she could have failed to notice Marci's weird ability to emit light, and hoping that Davion was not dangerous. The others seemed to trust him, but she remained wary all the same.

She also kept an eye on Fymryn. If there was anybody in this strange group she did not trust at all, it was her.

As somebody used to keeping an eye on her troops, she also noticed that Marci and Davion clearly liked each other. They didn't communicate much during the trek through the thunderhide tunnel, but she noticed little things, little things which told her that they at least fancied one another.

Marci was cute, Luna had to admit that. But she wouldn't have expected somebody like Davion to take such a liking to her. Each to their own, she supposed.

They emerged in yet another forest. Luna did not know it, but she was thinking the same thing as Mirana: they seemed to be spending most of their time in forests these days. Better this than that swamp though.

'Wait a moment,' Davion held out his arm. He crept ahead, eyes on the sky. After a few minutes, he waved for them to rejoin him. 'I thought that Terrorblade might still be around. Looks like he's gone.'

Marci raised an eyebrow and bumped her fist into her open palm.

'I bet you could,' Davion smiled. 'We'll show him, soon enough.'

Caewyn glanced up at the sky. She could just about see the moon, and the more obvious spread of blood around it. 'Is it me, or is that worse?'

'It's spreading.' Mirana murmured. 'We need somewhere to rest. Luna, you and I have a great deal to discuss.'

Luna grunted. 'You can start by telling me what in the Hells is going on.'

Mirana sighed. 'Where to begin...'

Luna grew more and more incredulous as they trudged through the forest. She'd known that Mirana and Marci had set off in search of the stolen lotuses. Mirana recounted how they had been pointed to an elf named Gwanwyn, and arranged a meeting in Barreltown in Candoness, which was where they had met Davion. Other members of the group pitched in now and then.

From there, the story only became weirder and weirder still. Davion was harbouring the soul of an Eldwurm. They had antagonised the Dragon Knights, but somehow allied with Eserren and Caewyn. They'd been chased around by Terrorblade and another Eldwurm, which they had somehow killed. Of all things, Marci had the blood of the radiant Eldwurm. They had been lured into a trap by Fymryn, who was now on their side… maybe? Along the way they had been joined by Aiushtha and Purist, and now…

If anybody else had told her all of this, Luna would not have believed it. She was struggling enough as it was.

'This is… bloody insane!' Luna spluttered at last. Night was beginning to fall now, the bleeding moon more apparent and foreboding in the sky above, the spreading crimson blotting out the stars it covered.

'I know.' Mirana accepted. 'Believe me, I know. Now… can you tell me what happened to Selemene? Please?'

Luna scowled. Her gaze fell upon Fymryn and she sighed heavily. 'Believe it or not, I think that Fymryn saved your life. Yours and Marci's.'

Mirana frowned. It was now that she started to noticed the lines on Luna's forehead, and around her mouth and eyes. Luna was in her mid-thirties, but she looked older now. She certainly looked older than she had done when Mirana and Marci had left the Nightsilver Woods. 'What happened, Luna? Tell me. Please.'

Luna shook her head. 'The Dark Moon Horde still exists. They attacked us in the Nightsilver Woods, they breached the walls. We lost, Princess.'

'And Selemene?'

'Mirana...'

'Luna, please! I need to know.'

Luna hesitated. It wasn't like her to falter, not if she had something which needed saying. But the tears sparkling in Mirana's blue eyes stopped her, the earnest concern and fear on her face almost too much to look upon.

Marci noticed. She slowed until she was at Mirana's side, then reached out and gave her hand a squeeze.

Luna looked away. 'She… She was hurt, Mirana. The Invoker drained Her power, he used Her own lotuses against Her.'

'They were never hers.' Fymryn must have heard her.

'I didn't ask for your opinion, Nightblade!' Luna snapped.

'Luna,' Mirana prompted. 'Please.'

Luna grimaced. 'Selemene… She betrayed us, Mirana. When the Invoker arrived, She started to...' Luna screwed her eyes shut and forced herself to speak. 'She started to take our lives, Princess. She was draining us for power. She couldn't reach you because the Invoker had you trapped, you and Marci. She would have killed me if… if Fymryn hadn't saved me.' Those last words, she whispered.

Mirana stared at her, her eyes brimming again. As Luna turned to look at her, she tore her gaze away. Luna was expecting her to deny it, to burst into tears, maybe even to lash out.

Instead, Mirana exhaled shakily and whispered: 'It was all a lie, wasn't it?'

'I don't know.' Luna answered softly. 'I think that She loved you, in Her own way.'

Mirana said nothing. If what Luna was saying was true…

Why would Luna lie?

Mirana swallowed and blinked furiously. 'I need to speak to Her.'

'You can't.'

'I need to.'

Luna did not argue further. From Mirana's tone, she knew better. If Mirana wanted to talk to Selemene, then she would somehow find a way.


They came to a stop in a clearing, close to a clean spring where their beasts of burden could drink.

Fymryn spent much of her time glaring at Luna. Marci had expected Luna to glare back, maybe even challenge Fymryn in some way. Nobody could out-stare Luna.

In the end though, Luna averted her eyes. Marci was not used to reading her, but she could see that she was ashamed. What of?

Eserren had accused the Dark Moon Order of carrying out purges, and the truth was that even Mirana had not known where Luna went or what she did whenever she left the commune with her Moon Riders. If Eserren was telling the truth…

Marci scowled. Of course Eserren was telling the truth! She took her chivalric code seriously. It was why she was here, helping them, instead of leaving them at the mercy of the Dragon Knights.

'What did you do?'

Luna looked round at Eserren. 'What?'

'You were part of the Dark Moon Order. What did you do for them?'

Luna's eyes narrowed. 'I killed people.'

Eserren frowned. 'Elves.'

'Whoever Selemene wanted dead.'

'Eddryn.' Eserren growled. 'Does that sound familiar?'

'An elven enclave?' Luna guessed. She shook her head. 'No. Should it be?'

'Maybe. Some of your comrades massacred it.'

'Mum,' Caewyn whispered warningly. 'Mum, there's no need for this.'

'Maybe there is, Caewyn.'

'Fine.' Luna grimaced. 'I'm a murderer, Dragon Knight. Is that what you wanted to hear?'

'You killed my people.' Fymryn glared at Luna. 'Didn't you?'

'Yes. I did.' Luna's voice was heavy. 'I did.' She looked up at her, and then at Eserren. 'You want me dead. Fine. You can try to kill me. But I'm done serving Selemene. I'm here to protect Mirana. I'm not going to let anything stop me, not without a fight.

Eserren propped her bardiche against a tree. 'Make the most of this chance, Luna.'

Luna nodded. 'I don't deserve it. But I'm not done yet.'

Mirana sighed, stood and stretched. Marci looked up at her and raised her eyebrows.

'I just need a moment, Marci. I won't go far.'

Marci reached out and took her hand.

'I'll be fine. I just… I need to be alone. Why not talk to Davion instead?'

Marci considered. She was clearly uneasy about leaving Mirana alone. She whistled, and Sagan plodded over, grunting softly.

Mirana managed a small chuckle. 'All right then. I'll take Sagan with me.'

Mirana set off into the trees, followed by Sagan. She felt oddly compelled to do this, she did not know why. Yet she was certain that she wanted to be alone, for now at least.

She walked under the tainted light of the moon, wondering how it had come to this once again. The Solar Throne had always been meant for her. But now that she might have a chance to take it…

Mirana stopped in the middle of another clearing, a shallow pool before her. The rippling water reflected the bleeding moon and cast an eerie play of light across her and Sagan.

Mirana looked down at her reflection. A woman stared back at her, almost a stranger. She was supposed to be twenty-six, but she looked closer to thirty, perhaps a year or two older. There were faint lines starting to appear near her eyes, lines which she had not noticed before. Her long brown hair was in need of a wash, and a trim. Her blue eyes were full of worry and concern. Her clothes were stained with muck and blood.

Almost a stranger.

Mirana ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. She would ask Marci to trim her hair when she returned to their makeshift camp, assuming that Luna, Fymryn and Eserren hadn't killed each other by then.

Something fluttered past her ear. Mirana turned her head and saw something, a tiny pale grey shape flitting around the pool. A moth.

A moon moth.

More of them came, fluttering over the pool, gathering and forming a shape. They took the form of a woman, one who Mirana knew well. Better than many who lived today, though not as well as she had thought.

A silvery glow shone through the wings of the moon moths. It should have hurt Mirana's eyes, yet it was muted and dim now.

She appeared there, more of a stranger to Mirana now than Mirana herself, Selemene. Her goddess. Her lover.

What was she now?

Selemene's perfect face was bruised. The cuts were still healing. Though she now wore clean robes, they did not hide the mending wounds on her formerly flawless skin.

'My Princess,' Selemene breathed, walking upon the water itself. She dragged her right foot a little. 'My love. How I have missed you!'

'My Goddess?' Mirana breathed, gazing up at her as she approached. 'How… What have they done to you?'

'I came here to see you, my Princess. You called me here.' Selemene caressed Mirana's cheek. Her nails were broken, some missing entirely. 'I am not what I once was, my love. They came for me—our enemies, Mene's faithful. They have taken their vengeance.' She withdrew her hand, and her face became sharp as she glowered. 'Your handmaiden has failed us both, Mirana. Were it within my power, I would see her punished.'

Mirana glared back. 'No. The failure is mine too.'

'You were not responsible for safeguarding those lotuses, the ones which the Invoker turned against me. Now they are all lost, because Marci took too long, because she could not guard them in the first place, because her faith is weak.'

'Her faith in you, perhaps.' Mirana argued, surprised at herself. When had she ever argued with Selemene? She was arguing with a goddess! But she would never betray Marci, not even for her own sake. 'She joined the Order to stay with me, to protect me. Don't you see? She would never abandon me. Never. I did not lie to you when I said there was nobody more loyal than her.' She swallowed, trying to ignore the burning lump in her throat. 'The fault lies with me. I neglected her. I was with her less and less in order to fulfil your needs.' Mirana looked away. 'She needed me. I see that now. Perhaps I always knew. She was in pain, and I barely did anything to help her.' She sighed. 'Davion has done more for her in weeks than I did for her in the years we spent in the Nightsilver Woods.'

Selemene scowled. 'You swore to serve me. Marci should have overcome her issues. She should have had better faith.'

'She lost her family!' Mirana realised a moment later that she had shouted, she had actually shouted, at Selemene! 'She sacrificed them for me. We lost everything except for each other.' Mirana felt tears in her eyes now. 'You helped me to forget my pain. But I should have been there for her. You never were. You just wanted to know about her abilities! That's all you ever asked me about when it came to her! You never once asked how she felt, whether she needed anything. You even wanted to send her to Luna! And now that I know what she did, I'm glad that I persuaded you not to.' She shook her head. 'Besides, the Invoker planned it all too well. Don't you see? We never had a chance of recovering the lotuses. We were just pawns, Selemene. Maybe we still are.' She narrowed her brimming eyes. 'And you lied to us.'

'I did not lie to you, my Princess.'

'Don't call me that!'

Selemene stepped back, her bruised face falling. She blinked. 'I did not lie to you, Mirana.'

'You kept the truth from me.'

'To protect you.'

'You were afraid that I would reject you.'

Selemene's face creased, and for a moment she seemed truly lost. 'Yes. I was.' She moved forwards again. 'It had to be done, Mirana. You can see why now. Mene is returning, and now I am powerless to stop Her.'

Mirana looked up at her, her arms and legs shaking. 'Why me? Why does it have to be me?'

Selemene's expression was pitying now, pitying and remorseful. 'You are the Princess of the Sun. There is more to you than you know, more even than I know. Mene saw your ancestors as a threat, because within you is the power to stop the Dark Moon.'

'How?'

Selemene reached down and tilted Mirana's face upwards, towards her own.

'You will bring forth the light, my love. I have faith in you.'

Mirana felt a tear leak from her eye and run down her cheek. Selemene watched it fall, uncertain of what to do.

Marci would have held her. She would have wiped her tears away when she was calmer.

'You don't know.' Mirana realised. 'Nobody does.'

'There are some things which even a goddess cannot see.' Selemene said. 'I wish it were not so, Mirana. I wish that I had the answers you crave. I know only that Mene saw the first Prince of the Sun as a threat for a reason.'

Mirana sighed. 'Luna said that you stole lives from members of the Order to feed your power. She said that you tried to take hers. Is that true?'

Selemene hesitated.

'It is then.' Mirana whispered, her heart falling, her guts twisting. 'You would have taken Marci's life? Mine too?'

Selemene swallowed. 'To stop the Dark Moon, no sacrifice is too great. You intend to fight Terrorblade. You're putting your friends in danger. What are you willing to risk to save the world?'

'My friends follow me because they want to.' Mirana retorted. 'And if there is a sacrifice to be made, I shall make it.'

'But you cannot. You matter too much, Mirana! Even if Terrorblade is defeated, you will still need to stop Mene.'

'I will not ask others to do what I will not!'

Selemene stared down at her, then closed her eyes. 'It should have been you,' she murmured sadly. 'I would have followed you gladly, my Princess.'

Mirana stared as Selemene dropped to her knees, almost face-to-face with her. 'I would only have taken your life if there had been no other choice! I care about you, Mirana. I love you.'

Mirana's eyes filled with tears again. 'How many came before me?'

'That does not matter.'

'Doesn't it? I think it does.'

Selemene sighed. 'I loved them, but not as much as I love you. And they gave of themselves willingly, as you did.'

Mirana shook her head. 'Did I, though? You would have taken Marci's life. You might as well have killed me if you had. Everything I did for you, I did it for her, so that she would be safe, so that she might heal.'

Selemene closed her eyes again. 'Say it.'

Mirana faltered.

'You love her. Say it.' Selemene opened her eyes, focusing on Mirana's. 'Tell me. Do you love her?'

Mirana swallowed, her throat was burning, her cheeks were wet with fresh tears. 'Yes.'

Just saying that one word lifted a great weight from her. A fragment of the truth, unveiled at last.

'I love her.' Mirana whispered, unable to stop herself now, and she did not want to stop. 'I love Marci. I love her. I always have. As a friend at first, and then as more than that. She's all I have left, Selemene. But even before the Bloody Dance, she meant everything to me. It's just… clearer now.'

'She will never love you as I have.'

'I know. But I can live with that. I just want her to be happy. I don't care if she finds that happiness in Davion's arms, or anybody else's. I love her. I always will.' Her voice was starting to break, sobs threatening to overtake her.

Selemene looked deep into Mirana's eyes. Her violet eyes were duller now, diminished. She took in a deep breath, and asked the question she had always asked whenever they had given in to each other.

'Do you love me?' It came out as a plea. Mirana could hear her heart breaking.

Mirana knelt down, holding Selemene's hands. 'No.'

Selemene looked away.

'I…' she fought hard, trying to keep control. 'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.'

Selemene's chin quivered. Her eyes started to moisten.

'I did. Once. Truly, I did.'

'Maybe.' Selemene allowed, facing her again, tears running down her bruised face. 'But your heart always belonged to her.'

'Yes.' Mirana choked on a sob. 'Yes!'

'You would choose her over me...' Selemene's face hardened, the harsh lines making her seem older and more terrible than Mirana had ever thought possible. 'I should have sent her away. I should have struck her down!'

Mirana moved away, releasing Selemene's hands and standing, staring down at her, aghast. She was not the only stranger here tonight.

Selemene realised what she had done. She lowered her head, looking down at her knees. 'I love you, Mirana. I would have killed the world for you.'

Mirana shook her head. 'Then you are no different from Mene.'

'Even though I would sacrifice everything for you?'

'I would sooner sacrifice myself for Marci than do the same. And she would do the same for me.'

'Mirana,' Selemene looked up again, her voice cracking, her hands reaching out. 'Please!'

Mirana knelt before her again. She reached out and touched her face. 'I can't.'

Selemene held her hand in place, her eyes shining with tears.

'We both hid the truth from each other. We tried to protect each other, but we ended up hurting ourselves instead. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.'

Selemene turned her head, holding Mirana's hand, and pressed her lips to her palm. 'Then this… this is the end for us, Mirana. I love you, my Princess. But you were never meant to be mine, not truly. And she will never be yours, not entirely.'

'I know. But we can't choose who we love.' Mirana whispered. 'There is always a price to pay.'

Selemene tilted her head towards Mirana. 'Go and claim your destiny, Mirana. It is not mine to share, though I wish that it was.' She slowly rose to her full height. Mirana stood with her. Selemene gazed down at her, then stooped and pressed her lips to Mirana's, one last kiss.

Selemene did not want it to end, but it had to. Every love she had ever held turned to ashes.

Mirana was right. There was always a price to pay.

'Farewell, Mirana. My Princess. My love.'

'Farewell, Selemene. My Goddess.'

Light seeped from Selemene's cool alabaster skin. She seemed to fall apart before Mirana's tearful eyes, the swarm of moon moths separated and letting her essence return to the Nightsilver Woods.

The moths took flight, disappearing into the night, leaving her alone with Sagan.

Mirana fell to her knees again, letting her anguish take hold, sobbing and holding her face in her hands.

Something came to rest across her shoulders, a strong arm.

Mirana turned her head as somebody knelt at her side, holding her.

It was Luna. She must have shed her armour before seeking her. Her normally fierce violet eyes were soft, full of a sympathy Mirana had never expected of her.

Mirana wanted to ask her what she was doing here, how long she had been there, where Marci was, but she could not speak. Instead, she flung her arms around her and buried her face in her shoulder.

Luna held her as she wept, resting her head against hers. She usually despised pity. Tonight, she made an exception.

She too knew the pain of a broken heart.