The empress led Selvina and Amalthea down to the lowest depths of her castle, deeper even than the dungeons where the unicorn had been held captive. The journey there was uneventful but long and arduous. When they finally stopped moving Selvina collapsed in exhaustion and Amalthea was breathing heavily.

"Get up, Selvina," Rhiannon said as she advanced toward a massive door. The huge stone portal was locked by an elaborate mechanism that consisted of various gems, pipes, tubes, and, oddly, a pot of soil popping out of its side that contained the dried, shriveled husk of a dead plant.

Selvina, tired but curious, groaned and complained as she hauled herself back on her feet. She leaned against the wall and watched the empress approach the door.

"Step back, Selvina," she instructed. "I need magic to open this door."

Selvina hesitated in confusion for a moment until she remembered about her elf-arrow. After backing away several dozen paces, the empress spread her arms. Her hands began to glow black, blue, and purple and tendrils of energy spread out from them. With one hand she launched a bolt of lightning toward the gems, lighting them up like stars. With her other she directed a stream of flame into the tubes and pipes until they were all heated through. She then directed a pulse of dark green light toward the potted plant and focused intensely. For several minutes nothing happened until, amazingly, the dead plant slowly straightened and returned to life, vibrantly coloured and beautiful.

There was a nearly inaudible click and Rhiannon smiled, standing straight and lowering her arms. She turned her head and looked at Selvina with a smirk. "The plant's roots wrap around the lock, which resets itself each time I leave this room. Heating the pipes and vibrating the gems readies and settles the lock and the roots, alive once more, twist it enough to unlock the door. Only a master of both nature and dark magic can work this lock."

"But I thought you were a master of only dark magic," Selvina said, eyeing the elaborate lock with awe.

"I am, but learning nature magic was my first lesson. There are few spellcasters alive that can conjure enough heat and power from their flames and bolts to ready the lock and fewer still which can bring life to the dead." She then gestured to the door. "Shall we?"

The doors opened inward slowly and heavily, each one, to Selvina's estimate, probably weighing several tons of solid stone and metal. As they opened, on their own somehow, a dark blue light burst out from the room, flickering and blinking as if struggling to survive.

Once the three women and fairy were inside, the doors closed with a bang behind them. The circular room was massive and contained a great hole in its center that seemed to go on forever. Hanging over the hole was a statue with arms outstretched and mouth opened wide, as if crying out in defiance. The statue itself was that of a man with long hair, two jagged horns upon his head, and huge, feathery wings. He was chained to the ceiling by the wrists and to the floor by the ankles. Surrounding the statue were serpents of dark magic, slithering over its body or swirling in the air around it. Each serpent would impale the statue over and over and come out the other side slightly thinner until eventually they ceased to be. Even the chains holding the statue were surrounded by swirls of dark energy.

Amalthea shook her head and fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face. "This should not be, Rhiannon. You have gone too far! Please, I beg of you, stop this now! You do not understand the danger you are in."

Rhiannon lifted her chin at the distraught unicorn woman. "I do understand, Amalthea. I do understand! I know the risks and the dangers! This is the only option before us. It is the only way I can ensure the world has a future!"

"No, it is not! Selvina is the key to our future; not this! Not this!"

"And what if Selvina fails, Amalthea? What then? The Writer is too powerful for any one person to defeat, at least any one mortal. We need someone greater. We need a god!"

"The gods are not yours to command, Rhiannon," Amalthea said, tears running freely and pooling on the ground below her. "No one has that power."

"I can do it, Amalthea! I have been planning this ever since we battled the Writer all those centuries ago. With a god on our side, we can ensure a complete victory."

Amalthea's head dropped, her long white hair veiling her face like a curtain. "This is not you, Rhiannon. Your mind has been poisoned. You have been corrupted by the darkness. Please, I ask once more, stop this before it is too late."

"I will not," Rhiannon snarled. She then eyed Selvina and gestured to the hanging statue. "Here lies the body of Iktarosh, Selvina, the God of Conquest, the one who, along with his sister, created sentient life. Elves, man, dwarves, and all other intelligent beings owe their existence to him. He created us so that we could forge our own futures and be the gods of our own worlds. If anyone would be against the idea of the loss of free will, it is he. Iktarosh, once revived, will stop the Writer. He will stop him and set the world right."

Selvina glanced at Amalthea, who continued to weep, and gulped. She eyed the suspended statue and shuddered. King Arthur had told her about Iktarosh and had given the impression that he had created intelligent beings only to enslave them. It was his sister, Irtue, who had given sentient beings their freedom. Could King Arthur be wrong? He, as well as so many others, had been wrong about Rhiannon, so it was possible...

"If Iktarosh kills The Writer," Selvina started, "where does that leave me? Why does Faeryum need me?"

"Iktarosh may not be capable of outright slaying The Writer," Rhiannon explained, the blue light dancing and sliding across her beautiful face. "He will be strong enough to defeat him, that I am certain, but I believe only you can deliver the final blow, Selvina. The Writer is mortal but I believe Amalthea is correct when she says that you are the one to put an end to him. You would not be here if she was wrong. Iktarosh will do the fighting so that I, Amalthea, and no others need to. Once he defeats The Writer and weakens him enough to render him harmless, you can approach him and end him forever."

"What then, Rhiannon?" Amalthea asked, wiping her eyes. "Where does Iktarosh go from there?"

"Once the Writer is dead, the only task left for me is to continue my conquest of Faeryum. Iktarosh, alive once more, is free to do as he pleases. He is a god, after all, but I believe, and perhaps naively hope, that he would assist me in my conquest. He will understand that I chose only to bring peace to Faeryum for all races, once and for all. I will be making the world as he envisioned it upon creating the races. What better way to make it happen than to have the father of us all see it take fold?"

Amalthea shook her head and fought more tears. "You will start a war between the gods, Rhiannon. The Four and the Thirteen will not allow Iktarosh to live. He was a threat to them as he was a threat to us and he is better off dead. They will kill him, Rhiannon, and all of this will be for naught."

Rhiannon laughed, which caught Selvina completely off guard. She eyed the empress's eyes and saw a chilling madness in them. This was not Rhiannon, the empress of Noyr. This was someone else.

"You are but a simple unicorn, Amalthea," she said through a wicked grin. "What do you know of the gods? What does any mortal know of them?" She then turned and walked closer to the chained god.

"Precisely, Rhiannon," replied Amalthea. "What does anyone know of them?"

Rhiannon sniffed. "I have done my research, Amalthea. I am aware that there is a risk that Iktraosh will turn on me but I have prepared myself for such an occurrence, though I doubt I needed to. Iktarosh was unjustly slain and will desire revenge against his killers. He will have no quarrel with me, the one who breathed life back into his divine self.

"It will not be too long now. I need only wait for winter to pass so that I may resume my conquest. Queen Svala, despite her pride, is of great help to my plans. Her capture of Nordara and siege of Frenis' capital city is supplying me with a steady supply of slain souls. Once I head south to defeat King Arthur, I should have amassed enough dark magic to release Iktarosh back into the world of the living. When that day comes, all will be set right. All will fall into place and eternal peace will belong to everyone."

Amalthea stood up and walked toward the empress, pressing her hands together, as if praying. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and as she exhaled her hands glowed white. She opened her eyes, which were now glowing as well, and spread her arms. "I will not let you do this, Rhiannon. Iktarosh cannot return."

Rhiannon clenched her jaw tightly and raised her hand, aiming it at Amalthea. Selvina saw sparks of lightning race along her arm toward her fingers and gasped. Thinking quickly, she leaped toward both women, crying out loudly.

"STOP!" she screamed, spreading her own arms wide.

At once, Amalthea's glow vanished and Rhiannon's lightning blinked away. The former closed her eyes and sighed while the latter pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes.

"You are standing too close to Iktarosh, Selvina," the empress hissed. "Step back now before I am forced to do it for you."

"I'll stay here as long as I have to," Selvina said, clinging to a thread of courage. "You can't hurt Amalthea, Rhiannon."

"I will not allow her to put an end to all that I have toiled for! She is lost in her ways and cannot see the merit in what I do because she refuses to. She does not want to admit it to herself that sending a god to kill the Writer is better than her plan of sending you."

Selvina felt a stab of betrayal impale her heart. "Do...do you not think I can do it?"

Rhiannon smirked. "You do not believe that you yourself can do it, Selvina. Once Iktarosh defeats the Writer, I will give you a chance to act upon what you are supposedly destined to do, and if you fail at that then Iktarosh will finish the job. Putting all of my hope in you is foolhardy and downright ridiculous. You are a mortal girl from a world where your greatest challenge consists of nothing more than getting up in the morning. Oh yes, I know of your world, Selvina. You are pampered, spoiled, and privileged. There is no decision to make when I wonder who will save us: a whiny teenager from a world of comfort or a god of conquest and power."

Selvina lowered her arms and looked at the empress through moistening eyes. "I thought you were going to help me stop the Writer?"

"I am, Selvina. I am making it so you need not do anything."

"That's not what I had in mind..."

Rhiannon scoffed. "Are you saying that you want the challenge of battling the Writer yourself? You will be destroyed, Selvina. I am doing this to help you and to help the world. Do not take this as me having no trust in you. I do believe that you want to help Faeryum and free it of the Writer but you are simply too...incapable."

"That is where you are wrong, Rhiannon," Amalthea said as she walked up to Selvina and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Selvina is the only one who can save us. You will fail. Iktarosh will fail. Selvina will not."

Rhiannon chuckled. "To think I thought you were lost before. Now you are truly gone."

Selvina frowned and fixed her gaze on the empress. "I can do it! I can stop the Writer!"

Rhiannon rolled her eyes. "How?"

"By believing that I can."

The empress laughed heartily and shook her head. "You and Amalthea are perfect for one another. You are both bereft of any sanity or the basest form of sense. Now there is no doubt that it must be Iktarosh to battle the Writer as the both of you have obviously lost your minds."

Having enough of the empress's disrespect, Tinkerbelle flew out from behind Selvina's hair and pricked Rhiannon behind the neck with her nail-sword before slipping back behind cover. The empress slapped her hand at the spot and winced, glancing about for what had pained her.

"We are finished here," she growled. "I have a naval fleet to destroy, anyhow."

Naval fleet? Selvina thought in alarm. "What fleet?"

"Avalon's," Rhiannon replied as she headed for the doors. There was no elaborate contraption on this side of the doors and they opened as if on their own. "I will sink as many ships and burn as many sailors alive as I can so Iktarosh can return to us sooner and prove the both of you wrong."

"You can't!"

Rhiannon raised an eyebrow at Selvina. "And why not?"

Because Jack is on that fleet, Selvina thought but did not say, the words stuck in her throat as her body went cold.