The elven princess concentrated on the seed and shut everything else out of her mind. Instantly the seed sprouted to life, and a tiny vine began to grow. Alastasia directed the growth of the vine, causing it to encircle Pakar’s shield at the floor level, its tiny web-like stems spreading out like a slowly shattering pane of glass. She concentrated hard to restrict the vine to the shield around the lower half of Pakar’s body. She did not want the mage to be aware of what was happening.
As Xavo’s ice storm grew in intensity just beyond the railing, Princess Alastasia directed the growth of the vine up the back of Pakar’s shield. The black-cloak’s face distorted in rage as he continued to blast away at Lady Mystic’s shield. Alastasia glanced over at Vand’s daughter and saw her shield glowing with energy. Tiny lightning flashes crackled across the surface of the otherwise invisible shield, and the elven princess knew that there was not much time left. She made deliberate eye contact with Xavo, and he nodded noticeably with a sense of urgency.
Princess Alastasia returned her full attention to the rapidly growing vine and suddenly the vine spread all over Pakar’s shield. The black-cloak’s spell casting immediately halted as he sensed the danger inherent in the plant growth covering his shield. As he turned to look at the elven princess, Xavo directed his wintry gale across the railing and onto Pakar’s shield. The shield immediately turned a frosty white, becoming opaque. Princess Alastasia ordered the vines to constrict, and they exerted tremendous pressure as the stems intertwined and tightened rapidly.
Lady Mystic immediately dropped her shield and brought her coupled hands out in front of her. A surge of power shot from her fists and smashed into the frosty, vine-covered shield of Pakar. The shield shattered like a wine goblet hitting a stone floor. Xavo was ready with a force bolt of his own as the shield shattered. He directed the energy at the now unprotected black-cloak, and Pakar’s body flew backward through the railing, with a large hole in what used to be the man’s chest. Pakar’s body dropped silently down to the ground level of the atrium.
“That was close,” Lady Mystic sighed with relief. “Too close.”
“He was a powerful mage,” nodded Xavo, “and the last of Vand’s mages.”
“Are you sure?” asked Princess Alastasia.
“I am sure,” nodded Xavo.
“Well,” smiled Princess Alastasia as she signaled for her group to continue hunting for Motangans, “then you two can rest while we clean up the hellsouls.”
“Wait,” Xavo said softly as his hand reached out and stopped the elven princess from following her group. “We need your help.”
“You need healing?” Alastasia asked with concern.
“Not healing,” Xavo shook his head. “Lyra destroyed the staircases to the uppermost level. We need your help in getting up there. Can you create one of those vines that will be strong enough for us to climb?”
“Easily,” nodded the elven princess, “but I do not understand. I thought the Three had to meet Vand alone. I fear what may happen if you two try to interfere.”
“We do not plan to interfere with the Three,” promised Lyra’s father. “We have other business on the top level.”
“It will have to wait,” Alastasia shook her head. “If it was alright for others to interfere in the final battle, every one of us would be rushing to get up there, but Marak warned us against that. Vand can use the presence of others to diminish the skills of the Three. I cannot help you.”
“Tell her the truth,” scowled Lady Mystic. “Time is slipping away from us.”
Princess Alastasia frowned at Lady Mystic’s outburst and stared into Xavo’s eyes. She waited for Lyra’s father to explain.
“Alright,” sighed Xavo. “We do not plan to interfere with the battle directly, but we can help the Three win another way.”
“How?” Princess Alastasia asked skeptically.
“Vand derives his power from Dobuk,” explained Xavo. “If Lady Mystic and I can attack Dobuk while Lyra and Marak are fighting Vand, we can lessen the power available to Vand. It just might make the difference between failure and success.”
“No one can fight Dobuk,” Princess Alastasia shook her head. “It is certain death even to try.”
“We are aware of that,” Lady Mystic interjected, “but even the Great Demon must expend power to vanquish us.”
“I have been in his presence before,” Xavo quickly added. “I think we can make him expend quite a bit of energy before he kills us.”
“You are both crazy,” balked Alastasia.
“Perhaps,” smiled Xavo, “but it is my daughter in that room with Vand. I want her to live through this battle. Help us.”
Princess Alastasia stared at the two mage in disbelief for several minutes. Finally, she smiled with tears forming in her eyes and nodded in agreement.
“Let’s hurry before I change my mind,” Alastasia said softly.
* * *
“Not that door,” warned Rejji. “That is where Dobuk resides.”
Marak and Lyra immediately halted and then slowly backed away from the door.
“That is the end then,” Marak remarked. “The only doors left are the ones to the throne room.”
“None of Pakar’s mages remained on this level,” declared the Star of Sakova. “It is time to confront Vand and end this completely.”
“There are three doors to the throne room,” Rejji pointed out. “Should we each take one?”
“I think Lyra and I should enter through the main door,” stated the Torak. “That will put us as far away from Vand as possible when we enter. I want to see what he tries to do, and the distance may help protect us.”
“I will give you time to enter,” nodded Rejji, “and then I will come in one of the side doors. Maybe my entry will distract Vand a bit.”
“Be careful,” warned Lyra. “Your lack of magical skills may make you Vand’s first target.”
Rejji nodded as Lyra and Marak departed. The Torak and the Star walked the long corridor along the throne room and emerged at the front doors. Marak hesitated as his hand nervously moved to open the door.
“Use your blue cylinder inside,” advised the Torak.
Lyra nodded and Marak threw open the door and burst into the room. Lyra followed closely on his heels and immediately summoned her spell of protection. The blue cylinder blazed to life as Lyra moved into the room. At the far end of the room, Emperor Vand sat calmly on his throne.
“I was expecting three of you,” Vand said as if he had offered invitations for a social gathering. “Approach.”
Marak’s brow creased in confusion, and he shot a glance at the Star of Sakova. His eyes scanned the room looking for traps or concealed assistants, but the room was fairly empty. There was a table at the foot of the stairs leading up to the throne, and three chairs sat before it. In the far corner of the large room was a little girl holding a silver tray with four silver cups upon it.
“Come,” urged Vand. “Come and sit down, and let us discuss our differences over a cup of tea.”
Lyra and Marak exchanged puzzled glances. It was not the type of reception that they had planned on. At that moment, the side door opened near the little girl, and Rejji walked into the room holding his staff.
“Ah,” smiled Vand, “the Astor has come after all. Your companions were just about to sit down and have some tea. Why don’t you join them?”
“What game are you playing?” Marak asked brusquely. “We have not come to socialize with you, and I am certain that you realize that.”
“Have it your way then,” grinned the Motangan Emperor as he waved his hand slightly.
There was neither a clap of thunder nor a flash of light as the result of Vand’s spell casting. It took a moment for Marak to understand what the spell had accomplished. Where the three doors to the throne had existed, there was nothing but solid walls. There was no way in or out of the throne room.
“There is still time for tea before we start this unfortunate business,” smiled Vand as he indicated to the little girl to serve the refreshments.