And behold, there was yet more to tell Shikrar.
By nightfall I had reached only the outer ring of stone. The demon within me was certain that Lanen was just beyond and it pushed me to scrabble around the stones, looking for a way in. It was dark, which favoured me. I was caught up in the fight and I was prevailing, for the moment, when the Sending used me single worst weapon it possessed.
Despair.
It showed me images of hideous death. My death. I saw in that dark place a rain of fire over the beauty that had so blessed me earlier, a vision of all I loved or had ever loved come to nothing, and finally of my own body rotting on a hillside, untended, uncared for, food for worms and ravens.
That was the battle. There, alone among the cold stones, outside anything that might be happening in the circle of life beyond, I fought with all the lonely strength of my spirit to overcome despair, whose talons are sharper than swords and whose breath of fire is straight from the deepest hell. If ever I began to overcome it would torment me afresh with dark visions of death and ending. Almost I gave in, almost I stopped fighting, but I was learning that the fight itself fuelled a will in me that strove still.
Then a sound distracted me and I looked up. There, over the rim of sharp stones, dragons flew. They were dancing a-wing in the moonlight, and mere was that about them that sparkled, that reflected the light in scattering joy. The demon chose that moment to strike at me with pain but I did not even notice, for the joy of those creatures was made my joy, their song of thanksgiving the echo of my life, and in that moment pain had no more dominion over me.
However, I had forgotten in mat transcendent moment that pain can cause a purely physical reaction. I lost consciousness, but the last things I saw were the dragons, wheeling, soaring on the wind in pure delight, and my heart flew with them as my mind fell away.
When I woke again to pain I was moving. It had got me through the gap in the stones unnoticed, and was now creeping around the southern rim of the field. It should have been impossible to go so far unmarked, for the field was filled with creatures of all kinds—horses, humans, and more of the little dragons than I had imagined existed. There must have been more than two hundred of them, but all their attention was focussed on something happening in the centre of the plain.
I tried to cry out but I had no voice. It was like an evil dream, in which time slows so that you run at a crawl, and you cry out for help with all your might but only the merest squeak comes out of your mouth. If I could speak I might be able to call for help, someone to kill the beast for me.
But I could not speak, and there were none to aid me.
The demon was in a hurry now, so I spent my strength on keeping my steps as small as that nightmare pace. I was still fighting for every step, but it was nearer its goal and I had to work ever harder to stop its advance. I could feel the sweat drenching my clothing as I used every muscle to deny it. By the time it—we—reached the stony outcrop I had been striving against it for almost ten hours without ceasing and I was weary to the bone. We were then two-thirds of the way across the field. It seemed to be heading for a darkness on the far side that I guessed was a wood.
After that I lost ground to the force of will and the pain, for my weariness lay upon me like a great weight. I no longer counted victory in steps, but in breaths. That breath I did not move forward. That breath I resisted, but it moved a little. That breath I rested and it took half a step, but this breath I have stopped it again.
The night moved like years, until suddenly it stabbed me again with agony and I could bear it no longer. I released my hold on it long enough to take a deep breath and rest, just for a moment. In that time I covered half the remaining distance. I managed to look up as we entered the wood and blessed the Lady, for the sky was growing light and that endless night was all but over.
I decided to choose my final battle and let it walk unhindered towards the hidden place it sought, but while it was moving I began to draw in my power. It felt what I was doing and tried to stop me, but my will now was iron and pain meant nothing, for my death was upon me and I knew it. I called to me every scrap of will and training and innate power I had ever possessed, commended my soul to the Lady, and unleashed it at the thing I carried.
I heard it scream as the power of the Lady Shia struck it like a lance. I sent wave after wave of power at it, drowning it in the blessed light of the Goddess. If I had been stronger, or if I had known more of the nature of demons, perhaps I might have been able to kill it, but it had reached its destination. I was no longer needed.
I was grateful for the swiftness with which it severed the great cord in my back, for the pain was stopped like the snuffing of a candle. I felt nothing as it clawed its way out, and I kept the clear light of the Lady around me until the last second. The last sight I saw in life was the first rays of true dawn striking the great peaks round about and gleaming off the scales of the beautiful dragons, and I blessed the Lady with my final thought as I took beauty down with me into darkness and death.
I had rested some hours after I spoke with Varien, but as the first hint of false dawn lightened the sky I leapt into the updraft that had kept me from crashing into the cliff. My wing ached but it bore me yet, and the updraft carried me swiftly to a decent altitude. I had to fly a long way north to find what I sought, but I knew it at once when I found it— the river was unmistakable, the only feature so large that it could be seen from so far away. The hills were away to the west of where I flew, but not too far.
"Varien, my friend, how fare you?" I called, as dawn rose bright behind me. "/ am near, I believe. I have found the great river, and the sharp hills lie before me."
He did not answer me, so I tried bespeaking Lanen. "Lady Lanen, is Varien—?"
"I am here, Shikrar," he replied at last. His voice sounded extraordinary. "You are as welcome as a summer's day in midwinter, my friend."
"Varien, what news? What news now of the Lesser Kindred?"
"Come find us, my brother," he said. "Oh, Shikrar! It is the unknown and the Word of the Winds both together. I have no words. You must see."
He sounded weary but very happy. I glided towards the sharp peaks ahead, wondering what there was for them to show me.
Where is it? The damned thing should have come to me by now. It should have been here hours since! Dawn is here already, the best time is past, if it comes not swiftly I shall be forced to—
Ah. Good.
"Masster, all iss done. The prey awaitss you, the Swift-lines are planted in the heart of the host and both are open to you."
"You are late," I growled. "You should have been here hours ago."
"The hossst wasss ill chossen, Masster," it hissed happily, knowing I had not specified a time limit. "Healersss can work againsst uss. He wasss a sstrong Healer and killed himself before I could force him to build the altar. I wass forced to built it mysself, and that wass not in the price we agreed."
"You speak truth, little demon," I said, throwing an extra handful of lansip onto the flames. It inhaled the smoke greedily, its reward sufficient. "All now is achieved. Our pact iss concluded, all iss done, live in pain and die alone," it intoned, spitting at me as it vanished. I ignored its petty complaints.
All was prepared now for the summoning of the Nameless One, the Demonlord, for I would undertake it the instant La-nen was in my power. There was much to do, and it must be done swiftly, but all was in readiness for my return.