Disclaimer --- While I do wish that I had a hand in writing up the Tortallan universe, we all know that the ever-fabulous Tamora Pierce was its sole creator. So yeah, I don't own these characters. At all.

Chapter 11
Confrontation

There was no mistaking the red-clawed, pale white visage of the female Ysandir smiling maliciously down at them. Though she hadn't seen her alabaster face in over a decade, Alanna recognized the oldest female Ysandir. Ylanda. The lady knight felt a shiver climbing up her spine, but she suppressed it. She will show no fear.

The two Ysandir stood in front of the Chosen, faint holographic images of their real forms. Ylanda was joined hand in hand by the bearded Ylon, and to haunt the Lioness further, there they were again, Ylon's free hand clenching his double-edged sword, now brightly aflame with terrifying power.

Not one of the Chosen moved, either in fear of the magic displayed in front of them, or in absolute shock at the evil reappearance of foes long destroyed. The beautiful Ylanda laughed.

"The young lion and his little girl knight have grown sprouted!" she said, her voice shrill and raspy. Her fingers reached towards Jon and Alanna. "Come closer, we have been yearning to finally finish our battle with you!"

"No more, Ylanda," Ylon told her, his eyes twinkling in a blaze of hunger. "We do not face them here." He was watching the apprehensive party and grinned maliciously. "The Old Ones cower behind their thrones while they send lowly mortals to do their bidding. Tell me, who truly holds the power to vanquish us?"

"You're still all talk!" Alanna spat out, "We defeated you when we were mere children. We can do it again!"

But she knew, this time it would be more difficult, almost impossible to do so. Inside, the lady knight battled with a sinking feeling, and her brain nagged her about the particulars of her last fight with the Ysandir.

"Foolish girl," Ylon replied, "You used weapons from the Old Ones against us at our weakened states. We have fed upon the Immortal Realms' stream of power. We will not be caught weak again. And you do not have the weapon that so shattered my Maleficar."

To Alanna's side, Jonathan was already grabbing her hand, letting their Gifts mingle to form a barrier. The Lioness also felt Numair and Alexa's intertwined Gifts surrounding them. It was Thom, however, who prevented Alanna from speaking out again, his hand grasping her shoulder firmly. "They're only mere projected images, sister. The Ysandir are here to taunt us. Or perhaps to send a message. Nothing more."

Purple eyes locked fearlessly with the deep, sunken eyes of handsome Ylon. "I propose you get on with it, then. Even Ysandir cannot hold onto their projections for too long. It keeps your bodies unguarded."

Ylanda hissed. "We are not the only Ysandir in the Immortal Realms. Our bodies are tucked away, far from your Old Ones' grasp."

"We've come to spirit her," Ylon said calmly, hardly missing a beat. His intelligent eyes stared at the woman in question, unwavering in his declaration. "We have felt her great power and can taste the strength of her youth. Give her to us and we shall spare you."

Beside Numair, the crown Princess of Tusaine paled, her silver eyes knowingly gazing at the speaker, even in her blindness. She bit her lip and stepped back, pulling the tall, raven-haired sorcerer with her. "I do not wish to return to my frenzy."

Reflexively, Numair placed himself in front of the princess, his face with grim determination. "I don't know about you two, but there are four of us with a tremendous amount of the Gift in our veins. I doubt that would be very fair on your side to fight us."

"So be it," Ylon shrugged, as though it didn't matter to him either way. He pointed his flaming sword at Alexa and muttered a few words.

"No!" it was Thom's voice and tainted Gift that burst forth, turning a light silver as he shielded the Imperial Princess.

Alanna sprang from her position, keeping the panic at bay. If Thom was mortally wounded...

"Stay where you are, Alanna," Jonathan commanded her, gritting his teeth. "They're pushing at our shields, Thom will be fine."

The demi-god's impromptu action did not seem to concern Ylon's incantations. By the strained grip he and his partner showed, however, it was clear that they, too, were trying to keep their images floating at bay. The battle would then be on who tired first.

It was getting worse. Alanna felt Jon's Gift ebbing away. Without the Dominion Jewel or the power of the desert and the Bazhir, the Tortallan King's power was only a third of its full potential, and if the Lioness could feel her own magic dissipate, chances are Jonathan's was slowly depleting as well. Yet she refused to slide down, knowing full well that a sign of weakness would mean victory to their enemies.

She didn't need to hold on for longer, however.

"Of course!" Thom's voice behind the lady knight was drenched in triumphant discovery. "I completely forgot!"

Alanna turned to see the sorcerer pull out a gold chain with a diamond at the end from his robes. The Lioness frowned. "This is no time for fancy trinkets!"

The so-called fancy trinket glowed once more in Thom's hand. After a brief moment, the diamond began to spin, and at its highest speed, it whistled into the air, plummeting towards the shield that held the Ysandir at bay. Ylanda shrieked in surprise, but she stayed her grip on Ylon's hand. The male Ysandir put down his sword, his eyes cold. Without another word, the figures vanished suddenly, leaving the Gifted Chosen in a state of collapse.

Alanna groped her way to a wall and leaned, keeping herself balanced. She glanced at her friends. Numair was placing his arms around a quivering Alexa, pulling her close to his chest. He smoothed the stray hairs away from her face and began to murmur words of comfort to her. The Lioness turned away, half-jealous of the intimacy from the two. It hardly seemed to be an appropriate time for her good friend to be putting on airs of that sort, but she would have probably done the same if her own husband had been there...

"That's being whiny, Alanna," she muttered to herself. There would be plenty of time to do that, once this whole mess was over and done with. The woman turned sharply to Jon, who was being held in place by a shaken Lord Myscha. The lord of Tirragen saw the Lioness's questioning gaze and he nodded, indicating that their sovereign king was still in full health, albeit drained.

Cool fingers touched Alanna's cheek. Thom was briefly examining his sister for any physical abrasions. She frowned at him. "I'm fine, Thom. But what was it you just pulled there? That wasn't your demi-god power returning, was it?"

Alanna's twin shook his head, his face mirroring his sister's puzzlement. "They mentioned the gods' weapons. George and I found a few enchanted ones in the armory earlier, and the diamond necklace took me by surprise then. What you saw when I retaliated could have only been the work of the necklace. I didn't actually think its effects were this positive."

"Think we can find any more useful weapons in the armory?"

"I doubt it. The baron and I looked through the room. Faithful had asked George to pick up a certain sword, though..."

"And conveniently, George isn't here," Alanna groaned. Things were complicated enough, now she'd learned that the one other possible item that could act just as her old Lightning had acted was now in the hands of her missing husband. If anything else was turned to their disadvantage, Alanna was going to hurry the process and make her own grave to climb in.

The Lioness turned once more to her friends. "Is everyone accounted for?"

"All except one," Jonathan's face was solemn, his sapphire blue eyes filled with grim despair. "The Carthaki, the one Alexa called Zephyrus. I'm afraid he's no longer with us."

Alanna paled. Violet eyes swiveled abruptly on the ground, where Alexa was now sinking towards, head bowed in grief. On the floor lay Zephyrus Muhassin Tasikhe, Emperor Ozorne's younger brother, his body lifeless.