* * *
Emperor Marak looked down the corridor and saw no one. Using a hand signal to warn Lyra and Rejji to stay back a bit, the Torak eased his body against the wall and peered around the corner. There was a large open area with two staircases descending to the lower levels. He saw Lady Mystic on the far staircase. She was hurrying down the stairs. No one else was in sight. The Torak stepped around the corner and saw Xavo hurrying down the closer staircase.
“Xavo and Lady Mystic are both heading downward,” the Torak said softly. “I suspect that is where Pakar’s men must have gone.”
There was a large urn positioned next to a stone railing half way between the staircases. As Marak turned his head towards Lyra, his peripheral vision caught sight of the urn, and it was in the process of disappearing. In its place stood one of Pakar’s mages. Shouting a warning to his friends, the Torak dove for the floor. A magical projectile flew just over his head as Marak rolled into a ball. Marak came out of the roll and immediately tossed a light blade towards the enemy mage. The spell impacted a shield and dissipated. Marak dove again as the black-cloak threw another spell at him.
Lyra stepped around the corner and pointed her fist at the enemy mage.
“He is shielded,” Marak shouted as he tried to keep moving.
Knowing that Lyra did not have time to erect her blue cylinder, Marak charged towards the black-cloak in an attempt to draw attention away from the Star of Sakova. The enemy mage wavered for just an instant, but it was long enough for Lyra to strike. A powerful force bolt sped from Lyra’s fist and smashed into the enemy’s shield. While the mage’s shield prevented the force bolt from reaching him, it did not quite absorb the spell either.
Lyra’s magical spell hit with such force that the black-cloak’s shield was forcibly pushed backwards, carrying the mage with it. Marak watched in awe as the mage in his shield was pushed through the stone railing and over the edge of the top level of the temple. The black-cloak’s scream faded as he plummeted down to the ground level. Marak raced to the gaping hole in the railing and looked down into the atrium. The black-cloak’s body was splattered on the ground floor many levels below.
“I didn’t know that you could do that,” Marak gasped as Lyra walked up alongside him.
“I didn’t either,” admitted the Star of Sakova. “His shield actually held. There is a lesson to be learned in this.”
“Be careful where you stand when you choose to oppose the Star of Sakova,” quipped Marak. “This one was disguised as an urn. I was lucky to have seen him transforming. How are we ever going to find all of them?”
“Maybe we shouldn’t try to,” interjected Rejji.
“We cannot afford any interruptions when we go up against Vand,” retorted Marak. “Not only are there six more mages to account for, but I saw Motangan soldiers flowing in through the front door down there.”
“I understand,” nodded the Astor, “but with Lyra’s power, we can isolate this level.”
“Destroy the two staircases?” questioned the Star of Sakova.
“Exactly,” nodded Rejji. “We know that Xavo and Lady Mystic are already safely down on the next level. We can destroy the staircases and then systematically search this level to make sure that Vand is alone. Let the others deal with the black-cloaks.”
“What do you think?” Lyra asked Marak. “It makes sense to me.”
“I agree,” nodded the Torak. “The fact that Xavo and Lady Mystic hurried downstairs tells me that they saw the black-cloaks descending. There are probably not any more up here, but we will check every room first before entering the throne room.”
“Not every room,” Lyra shook her head. “We are not to enter Dobuk’s domain.”
“Why not?” frowned Rejji. “He too must be destroyed.”
“No,” objected Lyra. “It is not within the power of man to destroy the Great Demon.”
“Are you sure about this?” questioned the Torak. “Vand is only a puppet of Dobuk. If we leave the demon intact, he will merely replace Vand with another.”
“That may be,” shrugged Lyra, “but remember the words of Kaltara. Vand is a man and his destruction is within the realm of man, but Dobuk is in the realm of Kaltara.”
“And beyond our reach,” nodded the Torak. “You are right, Lyra. Let’s destroy the staircases and search the rest of this level. I do not want to give Vand a chance to escape.”
Lyra nodded and gazed across the atrium at the staircase that Lady Mystic had descended. She clasped her hands together and aimed them at the staircase. The air rippled and distorted as the huge force bolt sped towards the stairs. When it contacted the far staircase, the stairs exploded in a frenzy of flying rock. Chunks of rock shot upward and downward and a cloud of fine dust hung in the air. Slowly the cloud dropped downward revealing a massive gaping hole in the side of the temple. The staircase no longer existed above the level below them.
“Merciful Kaltara!” exclaimed Rejji. “You blew a hole in the side of the temple.”
“Perhaps you should conserve your energy on the closer staircase,” frowned Marak. “We don’t want the temple collapsing beneath us.”
“And let’s move farther away before you cast your spell,” added Rejji. “I don’t want to get hit by flying rocks.”
Lyra nodded sheepishly, her face turning red in embarrassment as the Three moved away from the remaining staircase.
“I guess that was a little too much power,” she said softly, “but I never tried to destroy stone stairs before.”
Marak chuckled under his breath as Lyra’s arms rose once again. Her second force bolt completely obliterated the stone staircase coming up from the next lower level, but it did not punch a hole in the wall of the temple. The Three waited for the cloud of dust to settle to make sure that the top level was isolated before turning to search for black-cloaks.
* * *
Three levels below the throne room, Lady Mystic walked openly down the center of the corridor as if she were merely taking a stroll. While she may have appeared merely lost in thought to most observers, she was in fact concentrating on maintaining the most powerful shield she was capable of creating. When the attack came, it was hardly unexpected. One of Pakar’s mages dropped his illusion of a statue and sent a fiery projectile at the Emperor’s daughter. The missile struck Lady Mystic’s shield and disappeared.
“Clumsy,” scolded Lady Mystic as she turned casually to face her attacker. “You are more skilled than to waste such energy without first testing for the presence of a shield.”
“It was expedient,” shrugged the black-cloak. “Had I caught you unawares, you would not be talking so calmly now.”
“True,” smiled Lady Mystic as she sent a small fireball towards her adversary and confirmed the existence of his shield. “It is possible that you could have caught me unawares as Pakar caught Xavo, but I am not so foolish as to walk around unprotected. Shall we play?”
“All I have to do is wait you out,” the mage retorted confidently. “My brothers will be along in a moment, and I won’t have to waste any more power on you.”
“You seem to have things backward,” laughed Lady Mystic. “Your brothers are all dead. They will never come to your aid again, just as Xavo can no longer come to mine. It is just you and me.”
The black-cloak frowned with disbelief.
“Oh,” smiled Lady Mystic. “Did I forget to mention the hundreds of Chula and elven mages who are approaching this temple as we speak?”
“Their skill can never match ours,” balked the black-cloak, “but you are wise to realize that you need help to defeat me.”
“Help?” laughed Lady Mystic. “Do not bore me. Your skill is nowhere near mine. Your powers are puny compared to the Emperor’s daughter.”
“You wish,” the black-cloak replied with confidence. “Only your shields are saving your life right now. And you cannot hold them up forever.”
“You overrate yourself,” Lady Mystic said smugly. “I could drop my shield entirely and give you the first cast and still defeat you. You are nothing.”