Hunters

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Interlude

Argh! I don't know how to end the story!

Ok, so maybe I do, but 'tis still going on, and on, and on...energizer battery. Damn. Anyway, bodycount.

Of the Seven, so far the Rook is dead, as well as Yalter, whom was presumably one of the four leading the skirmishes, since he is a fighter. Actually, Yalter was meant to be a swordfighter, but I decided unarmed was more fun, since it's not exactly Zaknafein's forte. Zak himself will give a short review of how he was faring in the next chapter, and yes, he was cured by one of Yalter's people. Why? Well, it's not much fun to challenge and beat someone who is ill. Less of a victory, you could say - and from the little of Yalter we've seen so far, I think he is this sort of person.

One more of the Seven who is dead was taken out by the sorcerers, and will remain unnamed. Therefore, there are three more to go...with one in said Stronghold.

Noticeable new characters so far are Caraken, whom was not supposed to show up but somehow did. Vampires seem to worm their way into stories. He was also meant to be a rather Humorous fellow...jester types, not the 'laid-back' kind of people. Somehow that changed as well...

As to Ma'xae'raln, he wasn't intending to come so late into the story, but he had to go with the flow...hence. And his name was supposed to be Shrike, but it is a bit late now. Besides, I think I prefer 'Max' better. Why Shrike? Because I was flipping through a book about birds a while ago, trying to find a good name for something in a game I was playing, and thought that Shrike was a nice name. Even if the bird is a tiny, drab-looking creature.

Why Max? My first dog was named Max. And although it is pretty obvious, I'd point out that most of my made up 'elf' names can be pushed into 'human' names...except possibly for Illian. I was trying to see how many 'i's I could put in a name.

Why, this interlude sounds positively schizophrenic.

What happened to the Flying Dutchman? I suppose they're still waiting on the shore. Why didn't they follow up into the Isle? Probably because something bad will happen, and frankly they don't really care if Earth gets burned up or such. They probably have other worlds they can sail in. And yes, the captain of the Flying Dutchman is really called Henrik/Hendrick van der Decken. Like Van der Waals forces.

What is this Underside? I explained it already. Besides, I have no idea how it turned up in the story. It just did.

I've given up on the summary thing, because no one in their right mind will read the interludes only without reading the story. I suppose you all know what is going on, right?

No? What are you doing? Go back and read!

Anyway, this will be the last interlude. Promise. I don't want to write much on this story anymore...my English preliminary exams are two days away, and the rest not far away. Cannot concentrate on one story. Besides, I hope 'magic' and 'elves' don't creep into my English essay...

What will happen in the end? Will they survive? Who is this Anti-Christ? Will they win? And what's so funny between Ellyn and Max? And will you matchmake everyone else too, you deprived author?

You'd find out.

Lucky you?

Maybe not...

-Anya, in need of sleep, food and time.

Chapter 26: Vampire HQ

"I hate to say this at this moment, but I am hungry," Zaknafein announced.

Caraken looked up from where he had been speaking quietly with Lady Paltrae, and shrugged. "There's food all around you."

"If one is a vampire," Zak said dryly.

"I think I may have something..." Max began to rummage in the saddlebags.

"Caraken, drop us off somewhere to eat and rest a little, will you?" Tulan asked. "I do not particularly care for travel rations..." Max grinned at him.

Caraken glanced at Paltrae, who nodded slightly. "Very well. Lady Paltrae, HQ?"

"Of course," Paltrae began to concentrate.

"In the meantime, we can have a few introductions," Tulan continued smoothly, glancing at Max pointedly.

"Oh." Ellyn had dismounted along with Max, even though the room they were inside now had a high enough ceiling for them to remain mounted. The portal through which they had departed Yalter's residence had blurred back to a stone wall. This room was now back in an 'in-between' place, as Paltrae put it...apparently it was her 'travelling' room. It had a feminine touch to it, though admittedly now it felt a little crowded with the twenty-odd vampires wandering around inside.

"This is Ma'xae'raln," she took Max's arm. "And that's his mother, Kae'renla. Don't ask."

:I do not mind,: Kae'renla seemed amused.

"Later, then," Tulan said, frowned, then peered at Max. "Ma'xae'raln. Now, where have I heard that before?"

"The Black Bard?" Max bowed slightly. Tulan nodded, brow still furrowed in thought. "Maybe this will help ye."

He reached into his armor and drew out a necklace he wore, plain link necklace of a silvery metal, the pendant a tiny chain affixed to a small silvery crown, a collar around the neck of a golden shrike, enameled to bring out the natural colors of the small grey bird, and detailed perfectly. The shrike seemed poised to fly, and the entire pendant seemed to symbolize royalty - the crown may be a pretty ornament, but it was also a lifelong shackle.

"Of course," It was Tulan's turn to bow. "Now I recall. The Kings used to have a gold crown, but a Prince or a Princess would have a silver. Shrike prince, I presume? The Wild Power?"

Max grimaced, obviously having hoped that Tulan would not have known that last bit. As it were, there was general consternation in the room, except for Zaknafein, who merely looked politely puzzled, and the vampires, who looked politely bored.

"And is your Power now..." Tulan made a graphic gesture.

"Tulan!" Ellyn remonstrated.

"Quite useless to ye and yer cause," Max admitted. "FarSight."

"Pity," Tulan shrugged, then bowed to Kae'renla. "Lady Kae'renla, then. There are a few songs..." The other mages followed his move, bowing deeply. Keighvin looked as though he was about to say something, then thought better about it. The dragons were in their 'natural' shapes, curled up together, asleep, two of them nursing bite marks from the Tyrannosaurus Rexes that were healing magically quickly. The sorcerers apparently were ignoring everyone else, and speaking to Madrek in low tones.

:Obliged. And please do not repeat those tripe in front of me.:

"Now," Tulan looked not the least put out about the new discovery, "Ellyn can introduce the rest of us to you, then we can go and eat."

"Finally," Zaknafein added.

Max looked mildly surprised.

"People will always be unpredictable," Ellyn told him. Already the rest seemed to have passed over his 'discovery' and were discussing the subject of how to get rid of the Anti-Christ.

***

'HQ' turned out to be well lit - electrically - and tastefully furnished in cool colors, even if some of the furniture looked decidedly ancient. The other vampires quickly flowed...walk was too general a word...out of the portal into the large connecting room, then disappeared out of the three doors.

The room they stepped into was mainly in hues of blue, and probably a reception area, because a vampire sat at a desk next to the permanent blue obsidian-stone arch that formed the connecting portal. The desk had a telephone, a few miscellaneous stationery, and in the near-universal manner of receptionists-with-free-time, she was reading a magazine. She glanced up at them and smiled in welcome, getting up and bowing to Caraken before settling back into her revolving chair.

The rest of the room featured a few sofas and a television set, sitting on a square of Persian carpet. Slate formed the rest of the flooring, and the walls were a creamy white plastered job that was obviously hand-done.

"Food...that is, human food, will be this way." Caraken said absently, wheeling Lady Paltrae along as she left the portal open. Occasionally he would speak to her quietly, and she would laugh, or her hand would rise to touch and linger on his for a moment before falling away. Ellyn smiled briefly at the both of them.

The corridors had the same uneven slate floor and plaster walls. There was not a single bit of wood anywhere, and it was difficult to walk on the slate floor without making a sound. The corridors were eerily silent, without a sign of a vampire anywhere, the only sounds the steady clip-clops of Kae'renla's hooves, their own steps, and the somewhat nervous and inane conversation one holds in such conditions. Unconcerned, the dragons were slithering along behind them in the sinuous manner of snakes.

Zaknafein looked preoccupied. Occasionally he would seem as though he wished to ask Caraken a question, then he would appear to think better of it. After a few tries, Tulan took pity on him.

"Caraken, do you happen to keep weapons on the premises?" he asked.

Zaknafein looked relieved.

"Weapons?" Caraken looked thoughtful. "Yes..."

"Swords?" Tulan continued. Ellyn grinned at him, then winked at Zak. She was still, for some reason, holding the arm of the newcomer...the Shrike prince...ah yes, 'Max'. Apparently the rumors about the maiming of the prince had some basis after all, because Max still wore his helm, and seemed to be making an effort not to move his face or certain parts of his body.

"I think I see where this is going," Keighvin commented dryly. One of the mages...Tulan mentally called them the Interchangeable Mages...chuckled.

"Swords...yes. No metal ones," Caraken said. "I can show them to you after you eat."

Zaknafein looked as though he was going to say something about him not being really that hungry...

"After we eat," Tulan reiterated firmly. Ellyn snickered. Zak rolled his eyes at her.

"How were you faring against Yalter?" one of the Interchangeable mages was saying, in an attempt to engage the normally silent Otherworld elf in conversation.

"Yalter is...was good," one of the dragons agreed. "Fought him once in a friendly bout. Lost."

Another dragon said something in a sibilant language that only seemed vaguely Chinese, and the dragon whom had spoken growled and nipped playfully at him. The other dragons made harsh noises that Tulan belatedly identified as draconic laughter.

"Yalter?" Zaknafein rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Yes, he was very good. I was beginning to lose when the lot of you came along."

"Beginning?" Ellyn raised an eyebrow.

"I do not...fight unarmed often," Zaknafein remarked dryly, "In fact, the last time I did truly fight an unarmed match was...two centuries ago, I believe. My specialty is bladed weapons. Yalter was sounding me out, you could say...he was not using his full ability, and I already had my hands full."

"Don't know why he healed you, though," Tulan said, and sniffed. "Something smells good..."

"It is not a true challenge to take on an opponent who is, by circumstances, at less than full potential," Zak commented. "Not that I would have done it that way, had I been in his shoes...he was stronger than me and had more mass behind a punch. And just as fast. If you had not come any sooner, I would have been..."

"Kicked," Tulan grinned, "Nice to bruise that ego of yours for a while."

Zaknafein ignored Tulan. "In that manner." He looked neither put out or particularly embarrassed by admitting that Yalter had been better at him in unarmed combat...perhaps the Otherworld elf believed that there was not much that could be achieved by being upset about a fact. He took a deep breath. "Yes, something does smell good..."

"I have a good cook," Caraken said modestly. "Here we are."

They turned into a big room where two sets of long tables with fixed benches sat on slate floor. There were framed pictures on the walls, a strange mix of prints. Van Gogh hung next to the human painter who painted Hell...something Bosch. Cutlery had been set out for them in advance, and they sat down. Caraken clapped his hands, then led the dragons and Kae'renla somewhere else, still wheeling Lady Paltrae.

A few vampires brought out dishes from the other door, a larger, half-open one that presumably led to the kitchens.

The food was mostly to play on the tastebuds...full of flavor, as if this was what vampires occasionally ate to remind themselves of what they used to enjoy and need. Zaknafein ate some of everything, Ellyn refused some of the dishes which she could not identify, and Tulan followed her example. Keighvin seemed unused to eating such fare, but he was not choosy. The other High Court mages tucked in with a will, as did the sorcerers and Max, but Madrek made face at first.

"Has to beat cat food, hmm?" Ellyn glanced slyly at Madrek, helping herself to more rabbit civet of a rich brown. He smiled weakly.

"I might just poach the cook," Max murmured, his mouth full.

"Mine," Caraken said firmly from the doorway that led to the corridor. "Finished?" He was at the table with unnervingly quickness, where he picked up a breadstick and spread a bit of Camembert cheese on it.

Zaknafein began to stand up. Ellyn and Tulan, sitting on either side of him, simultaneously placed their hands on his arms and forced him back down.

"Bad manners," Ellyn chided, with a wicked grin at the elf's barely concealed impatience. "I haven't finished this cream thing."

"G=E2teau." Tulan said helpfully.

"Yeah, and you wait for us." Ellyn beamed at Zaknafein as the elf muttered something in his native tongue under his breath and settled down. After a few seconds, he promptly began to squirm.

Ellyn winked at Tulan, and Max attempted to hide a laugh.

Caraken grinned at them, then picked up another breadstick.

***

Caraken had shown everyone else guest rooms to rest in, assuring them that the Anti-Christ had not as yet moved decisively against the vampires, and would not appear. He led the others - Max, Tulan, Ellyn and Zak down several more twisting corridors, once passing through a large indoor pool where the dragons were either sleeping or chatting with other vampires in various stages of undress.

They entered a room which had the musty smell of storerooms. It looked as though the room had been meant to be a chapel - vaulted roofs and tiers, as well as what looked like an altar were visible. However, the benches had been cleared away, and were replaced by shelves and racks and boxes and stands...

Most, if not all, of the weapons were made of wood of some sort. Stakes, daggers, even a large warhammer. Several sheathed swords had been lovingly placed on stands in front of them, near the altar, from a bastard sword to a large broadsword as tall as Ellyn. Other sheathed swords were placed in racks behind the stands, with enough to probably outfit all the vampires in Caraken's Masquerade with a few leftovers.

"What's this about vampires and destroying chapels?" Ellyn quipped.

Caraken shrugged.

"Probably the same obsession with humans and appropriating materials for uses other than their purpose," Tulan commented. "Like soda can sculptures."

"That's art," Ellyn argued.

"This may be art too," Max gestured to the neat, categorized weapons.

"No it's not," Ellyn turned her attention to the prince.

"Maybe to vampires it is."

Zak grimaced, not listening to the debate. None of the swords were short enough to use as a pair. Even the katanas were the larger kind.

Caraken picked one up, a large katana, and tossed it, sheath and all, to Zaknafein. Zak caught it easily, admiring for a moment the sheath of black leather with stitched designs and silvery beads. The hilt was long and easy to hold, well crafted in the manner of oriental swords. He made as to draw the sword, paused, glanced at Caraken, then turned the sheath over and shook it.

The blade slipped out onto the ground, and Zaknafein nodded to himself. No traps there. The sword blade was wooden, as he had expected, dark and rich in hue and keenly edged. The wood gleamed, even though there did not seem to be any sort of varnish on it...

"Daekan wood. Clever," Tulan was saying.

"Why?" Zak did not touch the sword with his hand, but prodded parts of it with the scabbard.

"Harder than most metals, and just as durable. Doesn't catch fire. Isn't affected by magic. But bloody hard to cut and shape," Tulan glanced at Caraken.

"Spells," Caraken shrugged. "That was one of Quell's. The others are Murakan wood...most of the others. Mine is Daekan."

"Quell's?" Ellyn blinked.

"One of," Caraken said, "Can spare one. Doesn't look like Quell needs them anymore. Doubt your friend can hold two."

"Why wood?" Zak asked. He hadn't liked the light in Caraken's eyes when he caught the sword.

"When you fight other vampires, use the material that would hurt them most," Caraken said succinctly. "Normally vampires do not need weapons. When we do, we only need a weapon that is the most destructive and suited to our strength."

"Hence a long blade," Zak murmured. "Well, that does make sense." He grasped the hilt of the sword.

"Zak, wait," Tulan spoke at the same moment, then sighed. "Oh dear."

White roots burst out from under the hilt, sharp-tipped, and stabbed into Zaknafein's hand. He snarled, involuntarily unsheathing his claws which flashed, then dug into the hilt. There was a shrill keen that seemed to come from the blade, and the roots withdrew slightly, allowing Zak to drop the blade as if it were a hot rock.

"That," Zak growled, "Was not funny."

"He did warn you," Tulan pointed out. "He said it was Quell's sword."

Zaknafein watched the cuts on his hand close, then glanced at the hilt. The gouges had healed over as well, and the roots had withdrawn.

"That is not going to prevent me from..." Zaknafein began, stepping forward threateningly at Caraken, who only watched him mildly.

"Daekan wood is truly 'sentient', then," Max murmured. "Zaknafein. Caraken did give you the sword. It is up to you to make your peace with it."

"Personalized swords," Ellyn grinned, a little nervous. It was obvious that Zak was still very angry... "Can it talk, too?"

Zak shuddered. "If it can, I do not want it."

"No it can't," Caraken still looked unruffled. "You want it, you take it."

"I do not like long blades," Zak said coldly. "Especially not magical blades."

"Ask it to grow shorter, then," Caraken said, off-hand, as if that was the most obvious thing to do. "It can understand you." He selected another blade, and tossed it at Zaknafein. "A set."

Zaknafein caught the scabbard, then glanced at it. Finally, he sighed. "There is no chance of getting my old swords back?"

"No," Tulan said, then added, "And we're not going to visit Jim until everything is over, and we have to leave soon..."

"You can tell he's a bard by the tight strings he keeps on his purse," Max quipped. Tulan glared at him, but Ellyn laughed.

"I'd show you the guest rooms," Caraken offered, "Rest a little. You can decide about the swords there."

Zaknafein muttered darkly, then placed the mouth of the scabbard at the tip of the blade as if to try and sheathe it without touching the sword, then pulled his hand away as, with a quick plunge, the sword slipped into the scabbard by itself.

He picked up the scabbard and glanced at the new sword - a twin to the first, then made a decision. "I will try them."

Caraken nodded as if that had been what he had expected all along. He took down a belt to fit the scabbards to, saw that Zaknafein already had one, and put it back before motioning for them to follow him.

"Did you know the Rook?" Ellyn asked idly as they walked down the corridors.

"Yes," Caraken said shortly. "He was one of the best leaders until several years ago, presumably when all the business about the Anti-Christ came out. He became more morose. Solitary. Quiet. Used to be very friendly. Always a help with his magic and his ravens and his advice, and not only to vampires. Liked him." The last seemed to be Caraken's highest accolade, and the summary seemed as far as he was willing to go.

"Did he have some sort of Painful Past?" Ellyn asked archly.

"Ellyn?" Tulan sighed. Zak glanced up from where he had been suspiciously examining the blades, and Max merely smiled.

"How did you know?" Caraken blinked.

"Seemed pretty obvious," Ellyn said casually. Tulan noted her eyes sparkled, which meant that what she said had been a lie.

Caraken was not Masque for nothing. "Then I needn't tell you," he said mildly.

"You already did," Ellyn beamed. "Now you can tell me the rest."

"And why?" Caraken looked amused.

"I have wooden pointy things around me somewhere," Ellyn said dryly. "Let's see if you die of lead poisoning as well as wood poisoning..."

Caraken chuckled. "Perhaps. Though I doubt you will even be able to get that pencil near me if I did not want you to. Well, yes. To cut a long, involved story short, the Rook was once a man who loved a woman. She caught some sort of disease, incurable, so in his desperation he turned to the vampire community and had her made into a vampire. You don't get sick as a vampire."

"Probably against her will. 'For her own good'. Her family wasn't happy - hired some vampires which turned him too...except that he thought she did it. They drugged him, see - sorcerers are difficult to turn normally."

"It took away most of his magic except that over those two charmed ravens he had. Familiars, I think. He was angry - went over to her house and killed everyone, then staked her. Only later he found that she was innocent. Tried to kill himself. Ravens 'saved' him. His ravens told him something about their offspring will always serve him till he Passes Over - vampire term for true death - and he decided to go help people or something. There's a few other reasons I can't recall now."

"Always went out of his way to be helpful. Didn't want leadership. Only wanted strictly platonic friends. Maybe he still hurt inside." Caraken shrugged, ending his rather neurotic account. "Just because you've lived a few centuries does not mean you get out all the stupidity."

"How I know it," Tulan muttered, with a sly glance at Zaknafein. Zak smiled, a smile that bared his teeth at Tulan. Tulan grinned.

"Oh," Ellyn said quietly. "Well. He seemed very...vampiric to me. Was eating a girl."

"That's food," Caraken said bluntly. "Are you nice to cattle you eat?"

Ellyn's eyes flashed.

"Ellyn," Zaknafein murmured in warning. Max caught hold of her arm.

"Then why did Quell..." Ellyn began, stopped, glanced at Max, then shut up.

"Quite so," Caraken's mouth twitched as if in a smile. "Here we are. A room to the Hunters and a room to Max and Kae'renla. Have a nice rest." He showed them the doors, then bowed and left.

Zaknafein circled their room like a cat, then finally settled into a cushioned chair, where he began to contemplate the weapons afresh. There was only one room - containing two chairs, a television set, a large bed, a table, a wardrobe, a bookshelf with miscellaneous books, and a piano.

Tulan smiled at the piano, and sat down in front of it, lifting the cover, then the velvet cover, off the keys.

Ellyn stared at the both of them, then went to sit next to Tulan. She watched as he began the opening bars to a sonata at an impossible pace.

"It has been a long time," Tulan smiled with boyish pleasure, his fingers leaping nimbly into a trill.

Ellyn sighed, and watched his fingers leap and dance over the keys. "Doesn't sound like allegro to me, and I think I recognize this piece."

"Presto," Tulan agreed, and went, if possible, even faster.

There was a keening sound from Zaknafein's direction, and Ellyn glanced at him. Zak was calmly scouring a path down one of the hilts with a claw, the roots stabbing at his hand. He ignored the wounds. When they tightened, he gouged deeper.

Finally the sound turned into a sort of whimper, and the roots turned limp, drawing away hesitantly.

"I hope we understand each other," Zak said dryly, then glanced at the other sword. It also made a whimpering sound, and he nodded in satisfaction, slipping to his feet and hefting both swords.

The blades grew shorter, as if retracting into the hilt, then Zaknafein hefted the swords again. "A little more...no, too much. Longer."

"Better," Zaknafein finally seemed satisfied with the two cowed swords, then picked up the scabbards. "Now, about these..."

Obediently, the scabbards also shortened, then he fixed them to his belt and sheathed the swords. Zak looked up to find Ellyn staring at him, and he bowed slightly.

"Now I see why Ahriman's afraid of you," Ellyn grinned, then frowned. "Where's Ahriman, anyway?"

"He has a locator...spell on him," Tulan slowed down a little. "Left him on the Flying Dutchman in case they need to sail off a little and we need to portal to them."

"Ah, right," Ellyn thought a little, then caught Tulan's hands. "Now I suggest we have a nice rest."

Tulan looked at the keys, sighed, then nodded. "Yes, mother," he said mockingly.

Ellyn glared at him.

Zaknafein chuckled, and she shifted her glare to the Otherworld elf. "Don't you start," she warned.

"Would not dream of it."

"Yes you would," Ellyn corrected absently, covering the piano, then nudged Tulan off the piano seat.

"I see they are short on guest rooms," Zak remarked.

"Sorcerers don't live well together," Tulan shrugged. "And such. Besides, vampires rarely have visitors that live long."

"Nothing wrong," Ellyn removed her shoes. The three of them had shared one sleeping area before. There was no particular reaction other than the satisfaction of sharing body warmth...except that Ellyn claimed the both of them snored, Tulan complained that Zak kicked and Zak accused Ellyn of talking in her sleep.

This was a very popular topic of filler debate for the three of them...

***

Caraken seemed faintly disappointed that Zaknafein had managed to force the two swords to accept him as master.

They were in the portal room again, minus the other vampires, whom had divided into 'holding the fort' and 'skirmish'. The vampires were finally taking part, but on their own agenda...they made their own plans and strategies and simply showed them to Keighvin and the others and expected them to accept. Which was technically fine, since the plans were well thought out, but it was obvious that this heavy-handed method often annoyed Keighvin.

"Good luck," Caraken said absently.

They watched as the portal stopped pulsating, the light forced away from around it into the blank, framed space, which abruptly cleared to show a foyer.

"This is the closest I can take you," Lady Paltrae said. "Danaa be with you."

"I hope not," Tulan muttered as he stepped through the portal with the others. He frowned slightly, as if struck by something. "It appears to me that another layer has been breached."

"How can you tell?" Caraken looked curious.

"I can feel it. Like a major headache."

Chapter 27: An Ending

Psionic energy lanced away as a layer was breached over the Stronghold of the Elfhame Wind-Charmer, over the siege, and the first of Heaven's angels flew out, graceful and perfectly beautiful. Rainbows played over the edges of their razor-sharp blades.

From the Stronghold, the Dark Angels flew upwards to meet their age-old enemy, strange black weapons seemingly forged from darkness giving out a black radiance as they clashed with and cut down the first invaders.

There was a tearing sound as the breach, an opening to a place of soft white light, opened further. More angels swooped out to be cut down.

Red blood on white feathers...

As more angels managed to get out, the Dark Angels began to take casualties.

M'kvek hovered up a ways above his troop, great wings beating tirelessly. Light seemed to be absorbed into his embossed black armor that would shield him from most blows and was yet light enough to fly in. The Archan were the last legion of Dark Angels, during the first clashing on Earth, left to be the first to counter Heaven when another clashing begun. He watched the breach closely for signs of...

There.

He shouted a challenge in the tongue of the angels, and raised his two-handed blade. It flared in what passed for sunlight in the Underhill.

A gold and white figure streaked upwards from the breach, avoided by both Archan and Heaven's angels, to hover some distance before him.

M'kvek raised the visor of his helmet in mocking salute. "Salutations, Reine."

The newcomer's ponytail, that flowed out of her helmet neatly, bobbed as she also raised her visor. Sensuous lips curved into a satisfied smile. "Salutations, M'vek." She too, held a two-handed blade, white to his black, her armor managing to show off her full figure while also providing excellent protection.

'Light to my darkness'...no.

"Shall we begin?" Reine raised her sword and lowered her visor.

M'kvek's answer was also to lower his visor.

The first clash in mid-air was forceful enough to drive them both back a little, and they clashed and clashed again, metal ringing on metal, the savagery of the fight unnoticed by the other angels fighting below, but watched in mute awe by those under siege and those attacking the Stronghold.

For the Archan, this was what they had been waiting for - their enemies, their purpose.

M'kvek knew that they would eventually be overwhelmed. They were but one legion against the many that were coming out of the breach, and there had been no solid response from Hell as yet.

No matter...

If that was how he had to serve, then so it shall be. A feint and a stab parted Reine's tail feathers.

She laughed, bell-light, beautiful, a sound that invited him to stop and listen. "You've gotten better."

"And you?" he bantered, swooping down out of her swing.

She turned with incredible speed, following on his tail, and he was barely able to parry her blow before she took off his right wing. "Oh, I believe so as well."

***

The foyer was airy and smelled of flowers and lavender. There was a remarkably accurate sculpture of a fairy, holding a bowl from which sparkling water overflowed into a large indoor pond. White carp swam lazily in the water. The floor was a pattern of stone tiles, sandstone, granite, bauxite...

"How beautiful," Ellyn breathed. Behind them, doors opened out to show a garden and the landscape of what was presumably the Isle. The foyer continued in front of them, a corridor with many arches that opened over a graceful amphitheater. The corridor led to another room in front of them.

"Be on your guard," Tulan chided. He need not have worried - Ellyn held her rifle in a 'ready' position.

"I wonder how long it would take for them to discover we are here..." a dragon commented as they entered the open corridor over the empty, deep quarter-circle amphitheater. There was a platform at the base for speaking, and other corridors ringing the top of the structure. The base of the amphitheater joined more flooring, showing that they were not on the ground floor.

"The less quickly the better," Tulan commented. "I wonder if we should spread out..."

Heat became more apparent as they approached the end of the corridor, until they were all sweating. The room ahead of them was mainly a large pool of fire, lava that glowed an unnerving shade of red-orange.

They stared for a moment, and then one of the dragons shrugged and said something in their language. The others nodded.

A passage from them to what was apparently the exit at the other side began to form - black, cooled lava, with cooling mist over the passage.

The ground was warm, but not unbearable. As they were about three-quarters through, a large draconic head burst out from the lava near them, as big as twice of the head of one of 'their' dragons.

It roared, and thrashed. Their passage threatened to collapse.

"Come on!" Keighvin urged them onwards. The dragons hesitated.

"There's no way you can fight fire on its home ground," Tulan shouted back at them.

"Exit big enough for fire dragon to follow," one of the dragons reasoned, as they grew larger. Where they touched, the lava cooled. "We stall them. You go. Hurry!"

The group hesitated, then obeyed. Behind them, draconic shrieks heralded a major battle.

"There's no way they can win," Madrek said quietly.

Tulan stared at Madrek, then sighed. "The faster we find the Anti-Christ, the faster we can return to help them."

Madrek was silent, but it was obvious what they all thought - this was a suicidal mission with only one objective, and that did not include survival as a priority.

They were in another room, where there were several strange looking, blue-gold creatures. They were vaguely equine, with a horn like that of a unicorn from their forehead, not twisted, and a smaller one on the top of their muzzles. They had sharp teeth and claws, pretty blue eyes, and were much larger than Kae'renla. Several robed creatures that resembled elves - pointed ears and long features - but were also bluish in color stared down at them.

"Maitrens." The Adept of the Blue blinked. "How..."

"Sorry, Tulan," Madrek said, hands beginning to blaze in the Sight; "We're staying to take these out. They're minions of the enemies of our patrons. We're under obligation. Good luck."

The 'Maitrens' ignored Keighvin and his mages, Tulan, Ellyn, Zak, Max and Kae'renla as they went into the next room.

"This is a trap," Tulan muttered.

Keighvin nodded. "They are slowly thinning our group. I wonder what is next..." The next room featured a Bane-Sidhe. "Ah."

The monster opened its grotesque mouth to shriek, but Ellyn raised her rifle and fired in one motion, then fired again.

The Bane-Sidhe went down; a bullet through the brain and through what was tentatively its heart.

"That wasn't so bad..." she began.

Tulan glared. "I'm not going into the next room. I'm sick of this..." he knocked thoughtfully on the ground. "Hollow." Now, I wonder if we can drop down out of this stupid maze..."

He began to play the opening bars to Vivaldi's Concerto No. 1 in E, otherwise known as the Spring movement of the Four Seasons.

There was an ominous rumble beneath their feet. As one, they dived towards the walls, Zaknafein dragging Tulan along.

The floor where they had been standing on crashed downwards. There was a scream below them, then silence.

Cautiously, they approached the jagged hole. Rubble was scattered in a richly furnished room beneath them. Whoever screamed was crushed underneath the largest pile of rubble under where the floor had caved in. A hand, encrusted with rings, stuck unmovingly out of the rubble.

"What did ye do?" Max blinked. "I felt nothing."

"I didn't push the rocks," Tulan said absently. "I merely encouraged a few of them to become unsociable and fall. Some of the others followed. Now, I think that is our missing Seven...Rist, isn't he?"

"Looks like it," one of the Interchangeable mages grunted. "Certainly the 'trap' seemed of his devising. Now, to get down..."

Kae'renla 'ferried' most of them down, except for Zaknafein, who jumped and landed like a cat, glancing around.

There were two doors in the room, and one of them opened to show a smaller room, which had a main theme of fluffy toys and pink.

"What is that noise..."

They looked down at the source of the childish voice.

"Not you," Tulan groaned, "I don't believe it. I don't believe you are the Anti-Christ. Not in a million years..."

"You'd live longer than a million, uncle." The speaker was a small dark elf girl, probably not older than eight, holding a large teddy bear that was nearly as large as she was. She wore an elaborate frock, and she looked both serious and childishly pleased as she leaped at Tulan. Tulan caught her reflexively, but still looked horrified.

"At least, Rist said I was the Anti-Christ." The girl admitted. "Am I?"

There was general consternation in the room.

"She is," Max said finally. "Oh dear."

"A lot of people came to see me," the girl continued happily, "They told me I had to open gates to allow angels to come through which would make everyone happy. Isn't that nice? The angels just came through...I can feel them out there."

"Who is she?" Keighvin showed remarkable restraint.

"My niece, Avien," Tulan looked seriously off balance. "I'd never have suspected...I mean, last I saw her..."

"Do you have a present for me?" Avien asked, giving him an adoring look. "Play your violin? Please?"

Ellyn took a deep breath. "'Avien' is the Anti-Christ? Interesting. Christ was a man and a human...the Anti-Christ is female and an elf...that's a nice bear you have."

Avien clapped her hands in delight. "Oh, you think so? I made it. Rist wasn't happy about using so much power, but I did it when he was occupied." She said conspiratorially. "You won't tell him, will you?"

Zaknafein glanced at Tulan, then slipped over to what could be seen of the remains of Rist and unobtrusively kicked a mat over it.

"I don't know how the roof fell in, though," Avien continued, then pouted at Tulan, her mood changing just as abruptly. "Did you do it? Yes you did! Bad, bad Uncle."

Illian began to laugh.

"Little girl," Max began.

Avien glared at him. "I'm not a little girl! Oh. That's so pretty!" She smiled at Kae'renla.

:Thank you.:

"And she speaks too!" Avien squealed, her good humor restored. "The rest must see this!"

"Avien, no!" Tulan said sharply.

There was a change in the air, then three rather bloodstained figures appeared, looking confused. One wore the robes of a full mage, the other three looked like 'normal' elves - in full armor. The last of the Seven.

They took in the room at a glance, then started for Tulan. Zaknafein was suddenly in front of Tulan and Avien, swords calmly unsheathed. Ellyn raised her rifle, and the others tensed for battle.

Avien looked shocked. "Stop! What are all of you doing?"

"Lady Avien..." the mage began.

"Don't be such a goose, Caene. These are my friends." Avien said firmly.

"Morgana, she's spoiled," Tulan sighed. "Avien, can you make them go away for a while? We'd speak to them later."

Avien's lower lip shot out. "But I wanted them to see..."

"They've already seen her. Please."

The three disappeared. Avien sulked.

"Now, Avien, I think we need to explain a little about exactly what you are doing," Tulan continued steadily. "Did you know that if you opened Heaven, Hell would also open up?"

"It wouldn't!" Avien's large eyes widened in horror.

"Yes it would," Keighvin said quietly. "And it will end with the Earth being burned away to nothing."

"I don't care about Earth," Avien said defiantly. "I don't even know that place. All my friends are here."

"Wrong, Avien," Tulan said. "There are a lot of people on Earth you haven't met, that's all. A lot of people like you and me. Are you sure you want them to be burned alive? That's a very painful way to die, did you know? Remember when you burned your hand?"

Avien nodded slowly.

"Imagine that. A hundred candle flames over every part of your body, while your skin blackens and blisters and you die in agony, unable to pull away from the flames. Can you imagine that?"

Avien, paler now, nodded again.

"Tulan," Keighvin remonstrated, but fell silent as Tulan raised a hand.

"Then imagine everyone, all the billions in the world, dying that way. All the places you'd never visit anymore. All the homes burning up, all the birds and the beasts dying slowly, unable to run. Earth's very beautiful, Avien. Imagine all that beauty burning into nothing, because of you. Then ask yourself whether you have any right to do that. Do you?"

Avien shook her head, and began to cry.

"Tulan," Zaknafein said slowly.

Tulan ignored him, holding his niece as she shook in sobs. "You can undo that, Avien. Just close the Gates. Avien?"

Avien stilled, and Tulan felt rather than heard a single, indescribable note of music that reverberated around the room and around the world.

"Uncle Tulan?" Avien's voice was subdued.

"Yes?" Tulan asked.

"I want to go home."

"There's no home for a while, baby," Tulan said soothingly, not adding that his 'hometown' had been one of the Strongholds that had been razed to the ground. "You'd have to stay with Keighvin for a while. He'd show you Earth, won't he?"

Keighvin stared at Tulan, then nodded.

"You'd make a lot of friends there, not only a few shut up in this Isle," Tulan said carefully.

I can't take care of a kid. She needs people around her...and she won't be able to come Hunting with us. Besides, I can at least trust Keighvin and his gang to bring her up properly.

"Okay," Avien sniffled, thought for a while, then spoke again, hesitatingly. "Then are you going away again?"

"I'd visit," Tulan said, then frowned. "There's a fire dragon and some creatures on strange horses. Can you make them go away?"

Avien closed her eyes obediently, then opened them again. "I sent the dragon away, but the creatures are dead."

Tulan nodded. "Thanks."

Avien beamed at his praise, and Tulan felt slightly uncomfortable. Sometimes the way Avien looked at him unnerved him - not that he didn't know how to deal with a crush, but she was his niece, for Morgana's sake...

Maybe at Keighvin's she would get over it.

"Tulan?" Madrek looked down on them from the hole in the ceiling. "The entire building's going to collapse in ten seconds."

They blinked.

"No it's not..." Avien said slowly.

"Sorry," Madrek added, grinning wickedly. "I've always wanted to say that...anyway, two of the dragons are sort of dead, one is dying, and the other two are wounded. Apparently when they're really weak they return to their rivers, so they've disappeared and the third one is transparent. We are less three Adepts, which is not going to make the patrons happy..."

"Can we go?" Ellyn asked, "I think I need somewhere calm and safe for my brain to catch up with me...and somewhere where we can explain everything to each other in peace..."

***

They counted their losses at the next war-council. They had lost a quarter of the Archan, as well as M'kvek, but the angels caught in the Underhill when the breach closed were dead. The three left of the Seven were still around somewhere, their armies slowly being beaten back from the Strongholds. It would be several years before the conquered land could be taken back, and centuries before anything returned to normal.

Factions from both sides suffered casualties, but most of the 'Heaven's Own' were still making trouble, especially the Elfhames still dedicated to the cause. Nothing as yet from King Oberon.

Avien was being treated like a little princess at Fairgrove Industries, and positively flourished under the attention. She had announced that she was going to grow up to be a racecar driver, to the amusement of the elves and humans present.

The Adepts hadn't been able to break Ellyn's block, but she didn't mind anymore. Tulan and Zaknafein watched in amusement as she continued to twist Max around her little finger, and he visited Tulan's Hall often. Kae'renla was more and more often with Korn now, for rather obvious reasons...

Max, after being the subject of much scrutiny, had renounced all responsibilities and privileges of being a prince and the last descendant of the Eight Kings, though he was occasionally invited to the High Court.

The Masquerades managed to retake two Strongholds, and were currently being annoyingly enigmatic.

It would be a long time before the wars would end, but for most, there was now an uneasy peace.

It was not an end.

It was not a beginning.

Confusing? Perhaps.

But life went on.

***

Tulan opened his eyes as Ellyn arrived at the pool where Zaknafein was sprawled on a deck chair, doing his best to ignore the fairies, which had somehow been invited into the Hall territory. Tulan was in the water up to his neck, half-asleep.

"Where's your devout follower?" Tulan grinned, petting Ahriman.  "Sometimes I wonder at you.  I mean, his face looks like a..."

Ellyn smiled at him.  "How many people really love another for the face, Tulan?"

She began patting her pockets. Both Zaknafein and Tulan stared at her as she carefully took out a small grey mouse that had apparently been asleep. Black, beady eyes peered at them.

Tulan began to laugh. "Oh no..."

"Well, I asked him whether he could shapechange into a mouse when he got his new Power a while ago," Ellyn said defensively. "How was I supposed to know he couldn't change back?"

The mouse squeaked and pattered on her palms. She put the mouse on her shoulder, wandered over to Tulan's plate of Brie cheese and biscuits, and snatched some before he could take them away. Solemnly, she began to feed the mouse some of the tidbits.

"Forever?" Tulan glanced at the mouse.

"No, only until his current Power wears off," Ellyn picked up and kissed the back of the mouse.  It squeaked at her.

Some of the fairies waved at her, then continued to bother Zaknafein. Zaknafein batted at them with a pillow, then put it over his head, turning over, ignoring their other attempts to get his attention. Some of them ducked under the pillow, and did something - Zak made a sound suspiciously like a yelp and nearly fell off the chair. The fairies flew up out of reach and giggled. He glared at them. They blew kisses.

Tulan sighed wryly. The little creatures were still infatuated with the Otherworld elf. A pity, perhaps - they still irritated Zaknafein more than anything. Which was why he invited them in - though if he admitted that to Zak, Zak would probably kill him.

Ellyn chuckled and winked at Tulan.

"I think I want some ice-cream." She announced, and wandered away towards the kitchen.

Tulan closed his eyes, sunshine on his face, a cool breeze teasing at his hair. It was so peaceful... "Hard to believe that there're still wars in the Underhill, eh?"

"No," Zaknafein growled bluntly. "Tulan, tell these stupid creatures to go away, will you? Those three just..."

Whatever they did was not to be revealed to Tulan, as there was a sudden angry cry from the kitchen.

"Who left the ice-cream out on the table?"

Zaknafein proved that one could go instantaneously from a reclining position into a running-away-upstairs position.

Tulan grinned. The fairies twittered, then flew around him, not unlike large butterflies.

"Go," he mouthed. They smiled at him, waved, then flew off after the Otherworld elf. Tulan listened for a moment, then smirked at the snarls from the general direction of Zak's room. He went back to sleep. There was going to be a job to be done in a while, and he needed all the rest he could get beforehand.

***

Duke Diysae stumbled down the alley, followed by four of his elite guards. After that tiresome session with the city council, he was due some relaxation. He headed towards the brothels of the city D'Arch after the wineshops, swaying drunkenly through the rain. Thunder crackled overhead. He was unconcerned.

The guards quietly followed. They had done all this before - D'Arch's dissolute Duke enjoyed these 'pastimes'.

The Duke wiped rain out of his eyes. "Come on, boys...it's rainin' like a pisspot. Get it?" he laughed uproariously at his 'witticism', and hiccuped.

They reached one of the squares of D'Arch - a small open space, where the Duke smiled at the hunched shapes at the corners. D'Arch, like many cities, was not without its beggars. "Think I'd like to spill a bit of blood." He drew his sword after several false starts, and walked forward.

The guards exchanged glances, then walked more closely to their Duke.

A crack of lightning masked a report, and one of the guards collapsed. The rest looked around wildly. There were three other shots, and two more dropped - the last bullet bounced off a magical shield.

Music began to play, oddly audible though the rain that drummed down onto the ground. Duke Diysae was suddenly very sober, and he started to run in fear, recognizing Bardic magic.

He ran quickly down another narrow street, as the music stopped behind him.

Good. Maybe that mage was good for something after all...

A few more streets and he would reach safety. A few more streets...

A hunched figure rose up in front of him.

"Get out of my way, beggar," he snarled.

The figure shook back the patched hood to reveal white hair, dark eyes, and a cold smile. What light that could be seen in the night reflected off two gleaming swords...

Epilogue

The incarnation of Leo recoiled as a portal opened up in front of it. It growled to itself, and padded cautiously forward.

Three figures stepped out of the portal. It sniffed at them, and recognized their scent, but was still wary.

The smaller female one said something birdlike, and leaped forward, arms going around its neck, hands buried in his mane, and cheek against its head. Startled, it let out a small growl, then purred as she began to stroke its fur.

She murmured into its ear, then began to make sounds of distress. Curiously, it twisted over to look at her then licked her with a rough tongue. She smiled, without baring her teeth, but water...tears came up to her eyes.

Instantly one of the males was kneeling beside her, one which had a helmet over his head. He held her, saying soothing words.

The large cat sniffed at him. The smell of the female was on him, as was his scent on hers. Mates. They both smelled old, though the scent of the female suggested that some sort of magic was involved, that preserved her at a mature but still youthful stage.

The other male knelt down and patted it, and it also purred. It knew this one as well - the imprint of 'friend' was fiercely strong in its mind. It remembered, dimly, times when it had been happy with the female and this male, and vaguely sad that it could not remember exactly what the times had been about. It was also aware of love - love from the three for it, and love from it for the three.

"I still can't accept it," the female was sobbing. "It doesn't seem so long, and it has been. How long until Zak won't recognize us anymore? How long?"

"Not even Avien can do anything about it, Ellyn," the male petting him said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"Sometimes I wish I hadn't accepted prolonging my life," the female whispered. "Then I wouldn't need to see this..." Sensing her distress, the cat nuzzled her anxiously. She smiled tremulously.

"It has been two hundred years, beloved," the female's mate pointed out.

"I know. But it's still so painful every time I see him like this...and I remember what he had been like before. During the Wars..."

"What would you rather do? Kill him?" the other male said harshly. The cat growled a little.

"No! I mean... Zak told me about death before... before. He... he wanted, wants to live. And - oh gods." Fresh tears. Her mate hugged her.

"This from the Sorceress of the Hawk?" the other male tried to cheer her up. He failed.

"Yes." The female whispered, then kissed the cat. It rubbed itself against her, weight nearly bowling her fragile frame over. She laughed through her tears.

They stayed for a time, caressing it and talking to it, even if it did not understand most of their speech. Such memories faded as time passed...the cat felt a sense of loss and regret, but also philosophically knew that it could not do anything about it.

Then they left, and the cat watched them go, before getting up and padding away, large paws crunching the black sands as it continued its patrols of its territory. There were others like it, incarnations elsewhere. It knew much, as if the knowledge came in to replace what it was losing, but the knowledge was a poor substitute.

On the black sands, the great cat settled into an easy lope, into eternity.

END

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