The steam lift's door opened, and Maya stepped out into the prime foyer of the Sanguine Tower. She found it in chaos. A battle raged within.

Order initiates, blood runners, and resident arcanists clustered together. Shouting, screams, and spellcraft filled the air as they maintained wards around the weaker members and fought back against the attackers surrounding them.

"What in the king's name?" Josy said. "Maya, what's going on?"

Maya was moving before she could fully process. Her sword plunged into the back of a man in a dirty coat and bowler who carried a large hammer. She turned and cut the throat of a second ruffer before the first finished dropping to the ground. Josy leapt up beside her and shattered the jaw of another with a strong right hook.

"The tower is under attack!" Josy shouted.

Yes, but by whom?

The attackers swarmed against the wards of the blood runners. Cudgels, trowels, and other improvised weapons beat against arcane barriers. Men in threadbare shirts and trousers fought red-robed arcanists and died by the handful. The deaths didn't dissuade the attackers but seemed to drive them into a frenzy. Maya watched as a pair of Order clerks had their defenses broken through and were taken down by the press of a mob.

"The Eastrun riots," Josy said after burning down another group that came after her and Maya. "They spread this far?"

Maya touched Josy on the shoulder to indicate the direction she wanted them to go. They formed a fighting withdrawal, leaving a dozen bleeding bodies in their wake as they allowed themselves to be forced down an adjoining passage. She heard someone call out that royal assassins were there, and a mob of ruffers followed. The young men were enraged beyond reason, almost frothing at the mouth. They attacked Josy and Maya without guile, coming at them in a berserk, headlong rush.

Maya sheathed her sword and called upon osteomancy. A familiar pain in her bones, pushing beyond the bounds of her flesh, ripped from her shoulders to her fingertips. Forearms morphed into serrated, scythe-like blades. Bone plates burst from her shoulders and biceps to cover her arms and become armor as strong as steel. This was her favored osteoform.

Her first strike sheered through the collarbone and ribcage of the lead attacker. His head and right arm separated from the rest of him, showering the red carpets with blood. Her other bladed arm drove into the stomach of the man behind him, and Maya's magic channeled through the imprint of his blood. His body crumpled as his every bone was crushed by her power.

The mob didn't slow. They were unaffected by the sight of a royal assassin's osteoform. Most who witnessed one would at least hesitate. These men did not. Even when Josy assumed her osteoform, they didn't show the slightest sign of fear.

Josy's osteoform was singularly imposing. She lengthened her spine and torso, growing to seven feet in height. Bone plates burst from her abdomen and grew to cover her entire body. A single plate covered her face, leaving only a small slit for her eyes. Spellfire burned over her arms and the gauntlets on her fist, giving her the appearance of an armored demon wreathed in flames. Josy's osteoform came alongside a prodigious increase of strength, and her next punch tore a man in half.

"Maya!" Josy shouted.

This counts as chaos, Maya thought behind gritted teeth. She beheaded two men with a single blow. Vintus knew this was coming.

Somewhere one or two levels above, she could sense the Krayson's apotheosis pulsing against her mind. He was still alive as she'd expected, but Maya was unsure of how long he'd remain so if this mob found him. They seemed particularly keen on killing anyone in a red robe. Even with Josy and Maya holding the attention of a lot of the attackers, more poured in through the front entrance to swarm over the brothers.

Maya quested into the air in front of her with her ether and seized upon threads of the Weave. She found the imbalance of energy that coursed naturally around her and widened the gap. Lightning blasted down the corridor, striking through a line of attackers. Ruffers screamed in agony, and the stench of ozone and scorched meat filled the passage.

They had a brief respite as more charged towards them. Maya tapped her bladed arm against Josy's side, signaling for a withdraw. They both turned on their heels and ran.

"How many of them are there?" Josy asked, her voice muffled by her bone mask.

Too many. Hundreds. Where in the Five Kingdoms did they all come from?

Maya abandoned the blood runners who were beginning to fall beneath the sustained assault of an enraged mob. Their panicked shouts followed her and Josy. Before long, the attackers would break into the rest of the tower.

Where's the city guard? Maya wondered. The Home Legion? They should be here if a mob turns violent.

Maya cast a self-enchantment, increasing her speed. Josy matched her, and they raced ahead of the men chasing them. The ruffers broke off their pursuit, choosing instead to throw themselves at people caught up in the riot. Tower staff, young initiates, and other innocent bystanders were cut down by the dozen.

Anger welled up in Maya. She wanted desperately to put herself between the mob and their victims, but an assassin's duty was clear. She had given herself a mission, and the objective must always come before anything else.

Lady Starra hadn't been in the foyer, and she would have needed to pass this way to leave the tower. The attackers held the skybridge, so there was no escape by that route. She had to still be nearby.

Josy was breathing in and out with shallow breaths. "Winds, it's just like Ecclesia."

Maya almost stumbled. A rebellion? Here, in the City of Althandor itself? She pushed those thoughts aside for the moment. She needed to focus in locating Starra, then she and Josy could make their way back to the palace and report to either Gain or the king. One of them would have some idea of how to deal with this apparent insurrection.

Technically, her duty would be to regroup with Vintus, but Maya had her doubts that her youngest uncle planned to stop this. She would cite the chaos of battle for losing track of her coterie when she returned to the palace.

Josy led the way through the winding hallways. She called for confused and frightened people in the tower to flee to higher levels and barricade themselves behind locked doors. Only a few obeyed.

Spell echoes and even a few new apotheoses erupted in a jumbled babble in Maya's mind. The tower defenses were holding, but she could only guess at how long that would remain the case. The Sanguine Tower was more or less an academy of learning, the center of the magocracy's bureaucracy, not a fortress.

Maya felt something else, familiar and somehow not. It was like a primal emotion, the true form of what she knew that at last revealed itself. A spell echo, yet darker. It repulsed and enticed her at the same time. Maya signaled Josy and changed course for the sensation. She knew instinctively that answers lay in that direction.

They came across scattered bands of marauding ruffers. They paused to kill them when there was no other option, but otherwise left them to their pillaging. Fires burned in many of the rooms they passed. Though the fighting at the foyer hadn't lessened, many attackers were pushing deeper into the tower. The spell echoes hammering from all directions told Maya that the mob had reached into both higher and lower levels.

"There!" Josy shouted from ahead of Maya. Her massive gauntlet pointed up the passage.

Maya saw him in the same moment. It was Old Maltus, eldest of the battlefield coterie. Vintus had sent him to follow Lady Starra. He was slumped against the side of the hallway. His chest rose and fell in labored breaths. Alive, but incapacitated. A band of ruffers was advancing in his direction.

Josy cried out with fury as she charged to Maltus' defense. Maya was more hesitant to protect a traitor, but she supposed Josy would be a little more attached to Maltus Algara-Dothraun. He was, after all, Josy's grandfather on her mother's side. An acknowledged bastard like Heron, yet highborn and removed enough from the main line that it hadn't been a scandal when his daughter married one of the princes.

With a crash of bone and spellfire, Josy smashed into the ruffers. Her assault was brutal, and two men were blasted into ash with her first spell. Josy's fists made short work of the rest. She picked up the final man by his face and crushed his skull against a stone wall.

Maya knelt beside Maltus and checked for injuries. None were apparent. It hadn't been the ruffers that did this to him, but Maya couldn't fathom a spell that would incapacitate an assassin without leaving a visible wound. His oren would have protected him against curses and hexes.

"Bloody Hell," someone said from up the hallway. Lady Starra stepped out of a side room and regarded Josy and Maya warily. Ethersight revealed a plethora of powerful wards and self-enchantments enveloping every inch of her lithe body. "More of you. I'd be flattered if your blood didn't taste so foul."

Starra no longer had her veil, and her skirt had been torn up the left side to give her legs a better range of motion. She'd ditched her heeled shoes as well. Blood matted strands of white hair to her face, but it didn't look to be her own. Most damning were her red eyes and bared fangs.

Maya's eyes flickered to Maltus' neck. She used the blade of her osteoform to brush his long, gray hair aside and saw a pair of puncture wounds in his flesh near the jugular artery.

"Is that Princess Maya under the wolf?" Starra looked her over. "That complicates things. Your continued survival has always been one of our most pressing needs, but I'm sure Ambrose wouldn't mind if I just..." She snapped her teeth. "You might even like it."

Josy prepared to pounce, but Maya waved an arm to command her to stop. Keeping her eyes fixed on the vampire in front of her, Maya stood and stepped over Maltus' prone figure to approach Starra. As she got closer, Maya willed her osteoform to revert.

"And what have you become?" Starra asked. Her red eyes traced lustfully over the length of Maya's body and settled on the cowl. "Prince Dashar's acolyte?"

Maya nodded.

"In more than just your choice of headwear, it seems." Starra's tone wasn't derisive, though it carried a harsh edge. "I imagine I'd be wasting my breath by asking if Vintus has his hands in this attack?"

Again, Maya nodded.

Stara blinked. "Yes to which? Wasting my breath or Vintus being a vile excuse of a man?"

A tiny squeak drew Maya's attention to Starra's closed hand. The tail of a tiny rodent peeked out from between her fingers. Why in the Five Kingdoms would Starra be carrying around a blustering mouse?

The vampire lifted her hand to her ear as if listening to the creature. A familiar? That was an old and obsolete practice that the magocracy had banned over a century ago. Then again, vampires probably didn't consider themselves subject to arcane law.

Maya gestured for Josy to drop her osteoform. Josy complied with some hesitance and threw concerned glances towards Maltus. "What about my grandfather?" she asked with a note of worry.

"Oh, I'm sure that daddy of yours will come by to collect him before he goes skulking back to his lair," Starra said. "A little anemic, but otherwise unharmed. Shame, really. I meant to remove one of Vintus' lackeys, but... let us say doing so was protested by a little spirit of conscience on my shoulder, and I didn't wish to offend her so early in our relationship." Starra's eyes grew hard. "That isn't to say I'll 'go quietly', as it were. You haven't attacked, so state your business."

Maya ran a finger down the center of her chin.

Starra pursed her lips, then laughed. "Brother Joshuan? Yes, that cleft chin of his is rather distinctive, isn't it? A pretty lad when he keeps his mouth shut. What of him?"

Josy sped things along by taking up the explanation. "We're trying to keep my father from killing him."

Starra raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And why would Vintus' daughter and niece act against him?"

Josy's lip curled. "I want to hurt him."

"Why?" Starra demanded.

"I was violated!" Josy shouted. "And Father told me to forget. To suck it up and carry on. That man dominated me, tainted me, and my father still uses him."

Maya frowned and closed her eyes. Her stomach roiled in revulsion. Master Deveaux's magic was no different than forcing himself on a girl. He took what should only be given. He stole Josy's agency, her free will, and her consent. What condemned him most was that he probably didn't see it as the same thing at all.

The fierce look in Starra's expression softened. Her nostrils flared as if taking in a scent. "Garret?"

Josy grit her teeth and clamped her eyes shut. She nodded.

"I see." Starra came forward. Neither assassin moved to stop her as she put a hand to Josy's cheek. "I will gladly hold that cockroach down while you tear out his heart."

Lady Starra strode between Josy and Maya down the passage as if she weren't concerned by the destruction heard throughout the tower. As she walked, she tucked her pet mouse between her breasts. What an odd woman.

"The first step is getting Joshuan Krayson out of the city alive," Starra said. "The fool boy is being stubborn, but I'll see his contract completed even if I have to tie him to my horse and carry him. We can trade our tales afterward. Shall we?"

Josy looked to Maya as if seeking permission. Maya nodded. In this, they were of one mind. Anything that thwarted Vintus must have been for the good of Althandor.

Maya followed Starra and spoke, her words harsh against her throat. "We are on your side."

"Wonderful," Starra said as she led the way. "I promise, the pair of you have chosen to side with the good guys. Though, it may surprise you to learn exactly who you've allied with."

"The Highest King?" Josy asked.

"Sadly no," Starra said. "Cathis could go either way at this point, I think, though Ambrose was always confident in his character." She looked over her shoulder at Maya and gave a flirtatious wink. "I suspect you'll want to stick with me for a time, Your Highness. I plan on taking you to see your sister."

oOo

Krayson shouted in exertion as he pulled at the stubborn latches of the nearest window. He'd needed to break down three doors to reach an outer wall. He was in an alchemist's laboratory on the thirty-fourth level. The equipment was well-made and expensive. The lab would have belonged to a high-ranking blood runner. Alembics and vials filled the workbenches, and their owner had left one of the calcinators burning during the confusion. Something that smelled like sulfur had long since burned down to cinders.

I need to get outside, Krayson thought desperately. I need to see what's happening. I need to...

It had to be Saveen. If she was roaring, she was in her true form. She wouldn't reveal herself unless she was in danger. The battle on the levels below proved that the situation was dire, and Krayson wouldn't abandon Saveen to it. She probably hated him for hiding the truth of his contract from her, but saving her didn't require her to like him.

Grappling with the shutters was getting him nowhere. Krayson stood back from the window and used a spell of force to blast it apart. He rushed to the opening, lined with jagged glass, and leaned out. Looking down, the skybridge was obscured partially by mist, but what he was able to see made his blood turn to ice.

The skybridge was glowing with the light from a thousand torches. Krayson could hear the mob, the same angry chanting that he and Saveen had heard before in Eastrun. Over the past day, he'd learned something of riots but had never thought that they would come to the Sanguine Tower. To his home.

At this distance, he couldn't hear what they were saying. It devolved into wordless roars of anger. For whatever reason, that hatred was being directed towards the Sanguine Tower and the Order.

A new apotheosis appeared, this one high above and accompanied by another distant dragon roar. It felt like it was near to the masters' level. That was where he'd last seen Saveen. The assassins were pulling out, or so it appeared. Krayson could slip past without them seeing. Once he knew Saveen was safe, he could join in the defense of the tower.

"Let's hope this works twice," he muttered, then jumped outside. "—Steadfast lord of the eternal fortress. Beckon your petitioner unto unfettered ascent.—"

He focused his mind on the sky above, and he felt the Deep One touch upon his imprint. The tethers of gravity were severed. Krayson's fall slowed before reversing direction. He fell upwards.

Squinting against the wind and the growing brightness of daylight breaking through the mist, Krayson picked up speed. Faster and faster, he rose. He found that by gripping his robe and holding it out like the steerage sails of an airship, he could guide his inverted plummet to a small degree.

Beyond the roar of the wind in his ears, another sound began to loom. It was steady, like the beating of a colossal heart. Krayson could barely turn his head, but he managed to look a little off to his side. A dark shape, massive and obscured by the waning mist, kept pace beside him. Krayson held his breath, and cold realization swept over him.

Like an arrow from a hunter's bow, Krayson burst from the shroud that cloaked the Spired City and into brilliant sunlight. Tendrils of mist trailed in his wake. A moment later, a black dragon broke out of the mist after him. The creature opened its mouth and roared.

"Blood Runner!"

Trell's wings thundered with every beat. He was beneath Krayson now, and he raced to overtake him and snap the mortal he pursued into his jaws.

The Watchman's truest form was almost skeletal. Scaled flesh pulled taut over bone. His long head had deeply sunken eye sockets, and three long and curving horns ran along either side of his skull like a pair of jagged ridges. He had a long whip of a tail and a serpentine neck. His claws and fangs were barbed like fish hooks.

"Where is my Bastion, Blood Runner?" Trell shouted, his yellow eyes alight with fury.

Physics were Krayson's ally. Altered gravity and dwindling air resistance increased his velocity with each passing moment, and Trell's upwards climb was losing speed. After a few seconds, Trell's ascent stalled, and he was forced to dive. The Watchman howled angry curses as he plunged back into the mist.

Krayson let out an uneasy sigh of relief, but it was short-lived. If Trell was here, then Garret was unlikely to be far. And if the Onyx Knight was present, his empress might be also.

More troubling, Trell flew openly. It was as if he didn't care if he was spotted. No matter how much he wanted to kill Krayson, it was unimaginable that Trell would come out into the sun against Elise's wishes.

A screeching roar came from above. A second dragon, this one white with patterns of gray scales, dove down at Krayson.

"Seven thunders!" he shouted. In a panic, Krayson let go of his robe and pulled his arms and legs against his body. Like a dart, his upward fall grew faster, and he missed getting chomped by the new dragon by an arm length. He fell past the creature's body and barely avoided being clipped by a wing.

He'd only gotten the barest impression of this new dragon as he passed. More than anything, he remembered the two pairs of massive tusks jutting from narrow jaws.

Elise had found another dragon. With a sinking feeling of dread, Krayson thought that it was growing more and more unlikely that it was Saveen's roar he'd heard.

Trell reappeared from the mist. He flew in a circling pattern, wings beating rapid and strong. He meant to reach the top of the tower, and though he'd be unable to get there before Krayson, he wouldn't be far behind. The white dragon wheeled around and flew in formation behind Trell. For the first time, Krayson realized that there was a figure secured by a harness to the nape of the white dragon's neck.

A dragon rider.

"Thunder take me," Krayson whispered to himself. "The absolute madwoman. She's forging knights."

Krayson looked ahead towards his destination. The dragons had his scent as well as his apotheosis to follow. He would have only moments to reach the top, make certain Saveen was no longer there, and head back down. His ether reserves were dropping dangerously low to maintain the gravity spell, but Krayson believed he had enough to finish the job. He needed to. Whatever happened, he would not do to Saveen what his father had done to him.

He would never abandon someone to fight on their own. Especially not to monsters like Trell, Garret, and Elise. Saveen was his responsibility. She was his apprentice. His friend.

Saveen was his Bastion.

As Krayson crested the top level of the Sanguine Tower, he released the gravity spell. His flight slowed before bringing him down in an arch towards the masters' level. He saw fires burning through the windows, and one side of the tower's pinnacle had been blasted apart. A gaping hole leaked black smoke.

Somatics of wind essence steered Krayson's descent, and he cried out a word of power as he fell through the smoking hole. Wind buffeted his robe, and he tucked into a roll as he hit solid stone. His twisted ankle protested, his lungs had the breath forced out of them, and his knees blazed with pain as he landed.

With a grunt, Krayson pushed off the ground with his hands to come out of the roll and land on his feet. His hands formed somatics out of instinct, and he sent a wave of spellfire crashing against the figures he found standing in the Blood Council chamber itself.

With a dismissive wave of her hand, Kimpo batted the spell aside. The red dragon, in human form, turned her green eyes on Krayson. They were cold. Empty. Lifeless. The starlight that had once seemed to burn within them had gone out.

Kimpo wore her garment of ember-woven silk. She stood to face Krayson directly. Her powerful physique was tense like a coiled spring and only awaited her empress' command to be unleashed. The apotheosis that first led Krayson here radiated out from her. It had likely come from the spell she used to break through the spellwrought roof of the Sanguine Tower.

"This is surprisin'," Elise said, walking out from behind her dragon. The Dragon Empress was no longer dressed as a commoner. She was hardly dressed at all, and what little modesty she had was preserved by lengths of white gossamer silk hugging her bust and hips. Fine, thin chains of silver and gold draped around her neck, waist, and wrists. Elise's golden hair was worn free, and wind coming from the gaping hole above them blew it aloft. She was resplendent and terrible, a vision of an ancient empire returned to the modern world. "The blood runner, my would-be Sapphire Knight, has come just in time to witness my first great victory."

The Blood Council chamber was a pentagonal room. Benches with scarlet upholstery lined each of the five sides in rows, each on a higher platform than the one in front. Five white thrones, the seats of the anointed fathers, sat in the center. Two of the three were overturned. Rubble from the broken ceiling was strewn throughout the chamber, and a number of small fires burned in the carpet.

Elise and Kimpo stood in the middle of the chamber, in the midst of the thrones. Six figures huddled before them, the masters and their Red Clerics. All of them were bleeding from wounds they had suffered, and two of the clerics might not have been breathing at all. Father Ranton had his hands over the wound in a Red Cleric's side. He formed somatics of the restoration school, but a wizard's ability to heal injuries with magic was minimal.

"My lady," Ranton said, "Brother Tam needs immediate attention from the healers. My skills are..."

"Keep him breathin'," Elise snapped. "Only a little while longer."

Krayson felt rage like never before. He shouted incantations and formed the somatics he had learned from observing Kimpo. He created an ember-woven sheet of flame that swept across the chamber towards Elise. It was only a distraction, something bright and obscuring to mask his true intent. Krayson roared at the top of his lungs. He had so little ether left, but there was more waiting for him. The act still offended him, but he knew Saveen would agree with this course of action. He drew enough ether from the bond to replenish a third of his stores, then channeled it immediately into his spell.

"—Celestial Maiden grants her embrace, strike down upon flesh and bone!—"

The sheet of ember-weave burst apart from Kimpo's counterspell. Her green eyes widened with surprise as thunder boomed overhead. Lightning flashed through the breached ceiling. Kimpo shouted a warning and leapt towards Elise. She took the astramancy spell full in the back and crumpled to the ground. Kimpo writhed in pain as smoke rose from the seared wound in her flesh.

Krayson gaped. Kimpo saved Elise's life by throwing herself into the lightning's path. The last time he had seen her, she'd been willing to risk everything for the smallest chance of striking against the monster that held her bond. Now, Kimpo sacrificed herself for the same beast.

The Huntress belonged to Elise completely.

Elise appeared next to Krayson in the blink of an eye. One moment she was in the center of the chamber. The next, she was ramming a small, steel spike into his back. Krayson gasped as the last of his ether was stolen from him. He dropped to his knees, choking and gagging.

That magic she used. What was it? It wasn't anything like the lost teleportation spells described in the old tomes Krayson had read. Those were supposed to be accompanied by cracks like thunder and flashes of heat and light.

"Don't make me kill you so soon," Elise said mockingly as she strode back towards Kimpo. "My Onyx Knight tells me you carry somethin' that belongs to him."

Why would Elise walk anywhere if she could teleport? It didn't make sense, but Krayson's addled brain couldn't puzzle out an answer.

She'd left the spike between Krayson's shoulders. Krayson tried to reach it and pull it out, but it was just outside his grasp no matter how he strained. His arms lost all strength and he pitched forward onto his face. He wanted to vomit as the ethershock pains struck him in full, but his stomach was empty. Only bile came out, burning his throat like acid.

Elise stood over Kimpo. She knelt down slowly, cradled the dragon's head, and made soothing sounds. "My dear one. You did well."

"Are you injured, my empress?" Kimpo asked weakly.

"Not while the mighty serve as my shield," Elise said. "As a reward, I allow you to draw from me."

Kimpo nodded and closed her eyes. Elise held her breath as healing was taken through the bond. Kimpo's wound began to knit together, but before it was more than halfway sealed, the draw stopped.

"You may take more, my Huntress."

"I mustn't," Kimpo said.

"Draw from me and be healed. I will need more from you today."

Kimpo obeyed.

The beating of wings preceded Trell entering the chamber through the breach. He assumed his human form as he entered and landed on top of a bench, shattering it. The black dragon stood and advanced towards Krayson.

Helpless, Krayson couldn't summon so much as a firefly light as Trell seized him by the collar of his shirt and lifted him into the air.

"Stop!" Elise commanded. She had aided Kimpo to stand, but now she was focused on Trell. "I want him alive."

Trell snarled through bared teeth. "Where is my Bastion?"

Krayson spat bile into his face. He paid for his defiance by being thrown bodily towards the center of the room. He struck one of the thrones and knocked it over. Pain erupted across his back and the periphery of his vision went dark. Krayson had to fight to stop himself from falling unconscious.

"Watchman!"

Trell froze, sudden fear on his face. He knelt down and bowed his head. "I beg forgiveness, my empress. I acted out of concern for your Bastion."

"The girl will be found," Elise said. "If not, it's no great loss. She won't be of much use anyhow for another few decades."

The white dragon settled above and took on a human form. The harness slipped off, and the dragon's rider dropped down in a crouch. Krayson recognized him. Cardin, the saloon owner.

"A tad high to drop me from, wasn't it, love?" Cardin said while brushing himself off. A leather trench coat was fastened tight around him with silver buckles, and he wore a cap with mist goggles over his eyes. Cardin eyed his dragon sidelong as she produced a wispy robe from a holding spell and slipped it around her shoulders.

"My mistake, master. I've never been ridden before."

The new dragon was female. Her human form was slender and curvaceous. Shorter than Cardin, with a doll-like face. She had white skin, pure as snow, with swirling ash-gray patterns on her cheeks, forehead, and torso. Her eyes were entirely black without a visible iris or pupil, and she had golden, shoulder-length hair. The white dragon favored Cardin with an innocent smile and fluttered her long eyelashes like a village girl.

Three dragons, Krayson thought in a daze. Elise has three dragons. Does she have more?

A shaking hand touched Krayson's face. He felt warmth bathing his pains, easing them away.

"You shouldn't have come back, my child," Father Ranton whispered. "What I wouldn't give to have you still in the king's dungeon where you might have been spared."

Krayson almost agreed with that sentiment. He hissed as Ranton pulled out the Dekaam spike. Disappointingly, his ether didn't immediately return. It hadn't been sealed, but removed entirely. Not much was known about Dekaam, but Krayson believed that ether could only be removed if there wasn't much remaining in the victim's stores. Whether that was true or not, it would take several long minutes before he had enough ether to do anything, but at least his ethershock was fading by tiny degrees.

"It's time," Elise said. "Cardin, take Draxa and gather the others. Trell, you and Kimpo will stand guard. As soon as the fancy man arrives, we'll get to work. Until then, I've been waiting to do somethin' for a very long time."

Elise's minions rushed to obey her. She walked over towards Ranton and Krayson. Bending at the waist to loom over them, a malicious smile spread over her lips.

"I take it you remember me, Blood Runner?"

Krayson opened his mouth to say he could hardly forget, but he was silenced by Elise stepping on him. She ground her heel into his cheek.

"I wasn't talkin' to you, boy."

Father Ranton grabbed Elise's ankle and pulled her foot off Krayson's face. He was repaid by a vicious backhand that sent him sprawling. The other masters cried out in distress but made no move to assist him. The last Red Cleric sill conscious remained silent next his own anointed father.

"I was talkin' to you, old man. You were there that night when the Althandi slaughtered the last of my people. You were there, you snivelin' bastard, and you made me a daanman!" Elise punctuated her rant by kicking Ranton savagely in the ribs.

The blow hurled Ranton five feet away. He held a withered arm to his middle and moaned in pain.

"Stop it!" Krayson shouted. He tried to crawl towards Ranton, but his limbs felt like lead. "You'll kill him!"

"Why do you think I'm here?" Elise asked. "I can finally get back the last of what Cathis stole from me."

"What do you want?" Krayson pleaded. "Tell me and I'll get it for you. I swear it!"

Ranton lifted his head and met Krayson's tear-stained eyes. The old man smiled.

Krayson's ghosts howled. They surged to the forefront of his thoughts with more power than he could ever remember them having before. But, what was dead could never come back. If that were so, why could his ghosts still hurt him so badly?

Elise smirked and grabbed Ranton by the last wisps of his hair. She pulled him to his knees. "I don't need you to get what I want, boy."

"Please," Krayson begged in a hoarse whisper.

Elise drew forth a knife and cut Ranton's throat.

Krayson screamed as Ranton was tossed back to the ground like discarded trash. Lifeblood flowed out from the wound in the anointed father's neck. Slowly, the light of stubborn humanity in his eyes glazed over. Ranton, Father of Wizards, was dead.

Like a harp string in the back of Krayson's mind, it struck, sudden and merciless. A massive pulse of ether burst out from the Weave. Ranton's death unlocked every spell he'd ever cast, and one of them had been so strong that its erasure produced an apotheosis.

Elise held her arms out wide and raised her face to the ceiling. She closed her eyes and smiled as if experiencing rapturous joy. Something fundamental in the world had changed, and Krayson felt as if thousands of eyes watched these events unfold.

Krayson felt it, this familiar sensation of being watched from somewhere far removed from the mortal world, and he knew that those eyes were horrified by what they saw.

Laughter filled the air. It echoed throughout the chamber and drove painful daggers into Krayson's heart. Elise spun in place, exultant and overjoyed. She came to a stop and held her hands to her face.

"I hear you," Elise said, eyes wide with zealous fervor. "Flames bless this day, I can hear you again."