Gage moved closer until he was only a few paces behind she who he'd tracked so far. Kiril turned to address the mounted elf. The man, apparently not liking what he heard, pulled forth a length of sword-shaped night. Gage thought he yelled, but all sound was eclipsed by a sudden, ear-piercing rumble that pulsed forth from the amulet the monk held high. Another heartbeat, and on the heels of the tumult came a flash that erased Gage's vision.
Gage yelled as his steed and saddle fell away beneath him. He fell into swirling, sky blue incandescence.
* * * * *
Kiril ducked under Telarian's treacherous attack, groping for Angul's hilt. . .
Empyreal dawn blossomed, brilliant and all-encompassing. She couldn't see a thing in the ubiquitous blaze. She felt herself pulled up and into a maw of light.
Despite being blind and off balance, her questing hand found and drew the Blade Cerulean. With Angul in hand, her eyes cleared. Her steel-shod feet found purchase on steady ground. The sweet kiss of Angul lent Kiril magnificent conviction.
She recognized that Raidon had successfully transferred her, himself, and all who had been near her directly into Stardeep's heart. Despite his lack of practice, the monk had managed to exclude steeds from the trip.
Kiril stood in the Inner Bastion, in the very Throat of the Well, where the Traitor's constricting fires reflected up the central shaft.
And not five paces from her stood Telarian, recovering from the rough transit as quickly as she, wielding Angul's dark echo. Telarian, whose surprise attack with Nis revealed him as the true agent of the hoary aboleths. She had unwittingly brought him into the dungeon's most protected chamber. Kiril realized Delphe had secured the inmost cell against entry not because Delphe was the Traitor's pawn, but to prevent Telarian from attempting whatever devious scheme he obviously intended. And like a bumbling fool, she'd asked Raidon to puncture those defenses.
Other figures blurred the edges of Kiril's perception, but her awareness, and Angul's, was reserved for the diviner.
Likewise, Telarian ignored the scrabbling forms of Knights who'd been pulled along with them into the Throat. Anyone not wielding a soul relic wasn't worth any attention at the moment.
Kiril yelled, "Prepare to be sundered from your sins!"
Telarian said nothing, nor did he move. The diviner stood with Nis drawn and held out before him in a relaxed, casual guard. His face was absent of the least hint of emotion. His posture was half-turned toward the Well. Indeed, the tip of his right boot overhung the shaft by a finger's length.
Kiril closed the five paces separating her from her target. She brought Angul around high and hard, intending to beat away the dark blade in a shearing swipe whose trajectory would ultimately end in Telarian's heart.
At the instant of contact, when Angul's fiery length struck Nis's sooty edge, Kiril lost her grip on the hilt.
She gasped, flailing after the blade that suddenly moved under its own power. Unexpectedly bereft of Angul's physical and mental scaffolding, she tumbled headlong across the floor, her body knocking Telarian down at the knees; he'd also lost hold of Nis.
Turning, Kiril saw the two blades hanging unsupported in the air, still crossed as they'd struck. Fire leached from Angul into Nis's lightless expanse, while darkness bled from the Blade Umber back to Angul. The crossed blades were like the wings of a hybrid angel, half-fallen from some celestial sphere, uncertain whether it would leap back up into the starry firmament, or dive down into the depths of the beckoning elemental chaos.
With a deliberate inevitability, the two blades scissored to form a single shaft of steel. Where there had been two, now one sword hung unsupported in the air, burning with a black-tinged fire, both darker than night and brighter than day.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Stardeep, Throat
As Delphe blinked away the afterglow of the cerulean flash, half a dozen figures dropped out of the fading light.
Most of the intruders collapsed prone onto the hard floor of the Throat. Two retained their feet. Delphe recognized both. One was Telarian. The other, slim hipped and broad shouldered, was Kiril. Each bore a dire weapon, and each seemed eager to engage the other.
"Delphe," rang Cynosure's gravelly voice. "Containment breach in progress! Deploying physical safeguard."
The stone and crystal statue poised above the Well, unmoving in all the time Delphe had served Stardeep as a Keeper, suddenly fell free, plunging from the ceiling like a dropped anchor, flashing past the lip, its arms outstretched and its eyes trailing the light of Cynosure's focused consciousness.
From deep in the Well boiled a fount of racing purple fire. A sure sign the containment layer had collapsed, or was on the verge of doing so. The falling construct and rising plane of fire met in an explosion of white light.
Delphe leaped from her control chair, one hand grasping her Cerulean Sign, the other already essaying gestures that opened hidden arcane geometries. With a sick feeling clawing at her gut, she dropped a slab of invisible force flat across the lip of the Well, hoping it would buy Cynosure time to stem the breach below while she dealt with the situation above. How had Telarian and so many others penetrated Stardeep's very heart? Obviously, it was some sort of back door set up by Telarian—one more betrayal of his trust. However, this was not the time to contemplate failed security.
She returned her attention to the interlopers. Of the six or so intruders, many were Knights caught up in the transfer. Some few of these were groaning and blinking, beginning to rise.
"Oh, by the Sign," breathed Delphe as her eyes tracked back to Kiril, Angul blazing in her fists, and across from her Telarian, Nis darkening the chamber with only his presence. Kiril yelled a challenge; Telarian sneered. They were going to fight! In all Stardeep's history, had two Keepers ever come to blows?
Telarian and Kiril crossed swords.
The explosion of noise and light that followed knocked both wielders to the floor with the insensate Knights. Upon touching, the blades recognized the missing portions of the other. They merged, creating a new entity: a union of the soul-forged swords Angul and Nis. The new-minted weapon pulsed with fell energy, far outstripping its shape and mortal origins.
The Keeper of the Outer Bastion regained his feet. Next to him, Kiril raised herself to her knees. When her eyes found the linked weapons, she ceased all action except to stare at Angul-Nis as if entranced. Telarian moved past her, paying the swordswoman not the least bit of concern. Kiril's hands remained passively at her sides—she made no move to stop the diviner.
Delphe called out, "No!" as Telarian grasped for Angul-Nis's hilt.
A winged creature the size of a small dog dived at Telarian from somewhere behind Delphe's left shoulder. It must have arrived in the Throat with Kiril, Telarian, and the Knights. It screeched a strangely musical call and raked Telarian's hands with crystalline claws. The diviner snatched his hands back from the hilt. The tiny opalescent dragon took the opportunity to scratch at Telarian's eyes. He fell back from the hovering dragonet and the dangling blade, swatting and cursing.
The crystal beast belled a tiny cry of triumph as it stooped on the retreating diviner again. Then a thread of black flame extended from Angul-Nis, wavering and winding through the air like a worm in its hole. The dragonet didn't see the thread, so intent was it on Telarian. When the thread touched the tiny flying creature's shoulder, the dragonet squawked, then clattered to the ground, trailing dark smoke as it rolled.