Crevan stood at the entrance to Auditorium. Quildor strode purposefully toward him.

"News?" 

"The girl is inside the mountain. We are sure she has not made it to Galantyne."

"You have men guarding the entrance to Galantyne's fortress?" 

"I have two Quarso concealed there."

Quildor waved a hand. "I don't care. Just bring her to me safely." 

"Of what use is she, my liege? She isn't Taan's daughter."

"I realize that!" Quildor spat, "But she is of value to Galantyne."

"I have sent Darmon to find a Shadow Eater colony to recruit, but it won't be enough."

Quildor's eyes were piercing. "I need an army!" 

He watched as soulless searchers were herded to the training fields. Crevan's anger at Quildor's selfish tantrum and willful destruction burned darkly.

Quildor whirled back around. "Have you found Rion Etrusia?"

"He is being brought here even as we speak." 

"Good. Send him directly to me." 

Crevan made his way around a fallen pillar, across several piles of rubble and around a pile of dead bodies. He didn't know where Rion was but had sent Jayce and Terryn to look for him in the villages. 

A movement near the ground just ahead caught Crevan's attention. He felt the instability of the rubble beneath him and reached where he thought he'd seen something.

"Is anyone here?"

"I'm alive!" A small voice said weakly. "Korlon, is that you?"

He didn't know who Korlon was, but he did recognize the voice that called out so weakly. The witch who had stolen the scepter and caused this war. Nimiane.

Crevan cursed his bad luck. He looked through the cracks, finding the woman in a space hardly big enough for a person to be caught in. "It is because of you that this war has started."

"Yes." 

"I should let them find you." He jerked his head at the Minions who would show her no mercy. "Do you have the scepter?"

"No." 

Crevan drew in a sharply annoyed breath. "Then what good are you to me?"

"None, I agree. But I do have something. The Talisman, Crevan. I told you, I have the Talisman."

His eyes sought hers again. "You made it clear you have only the mother dragon, not the Talisman."

"I know it sounds ridiculous." She cried in obvious pain. "But I am sure that the mother dragon will find her son. If I let her go."

"Where is she? Give her to me." Crevan knelt, pushing shards away from Nimiane's face. "I can get you out of here if you agree to give me the dragon."

She closed her eyes in weak resignation. "I agree. Get me out of here and I will give her to you."

It was possible that the mother dragon would find her son. It was possible that he could wield the power to heal the surface, and stop the war. In moments, he had discarded his outer layers of armor and was pulling the wasted devastation off of her.  It took all his strength to remove rocks and debris. She was buried, but not completely crushed. 

Crevan reached the slab that was lying on the lower half of her body, and he knew, as he was sure she did, that there was very little hope of her recovery. She was unconscious and therefore missed seeing his face as he realized her fate. The sound of his panting as he exerted all his efforts was wasted in the night. "Where is the dragon?" He reached out and grabbed her by the hair. What did it matter now? She was going to die.

Nimiane came to, her eyes rolling. Crevan repeated his query and one of her hands moved revealing a small box. Crevan took the box from her, feet straddling the piles of rubble.

"Her name is Darci." Nimiane croaked. "Let her go on the land."

"What lies in this box has the power to heal the air?"

"Free her." 

Inside the box, a tiny winged creature stared up at him beseechingly. It had no power, he thought, it was almost dead. "Where did it come from?"

"Take it to Ondrea, she knows." Nimiane grunted. "I am dying."

"Step back, Foeman!" A sharp voice hissed across the wind and Crevan turned wondering who would dare to cross him now. He closed the lid on the box and slipped the tiny creature in its wooden nest into his tunic. 

"I don't want to fight you, Valdemar." He recognized the accent. The man was well built and intimidating. Crevan felt a thrill rush through him at the thought that the fight had come to him. 

"Korlon!" Nimiane marshaled the last of her energy. "Help me!"

"Stand back, Foeman. This woman is a citizen of Aquaria."

"I don't care who you think she is." Crevan waved the tip of his sword at Korlon's chest. "She stole Quildor's property and started a war."

Korlon sneered. "Quildor has no property, Foeman. He is an exile."

"Korlon! Please! Get the box!" 

Korlon saw no box, no evidence that the Foeman had anything in his possession. He waved his sword. "Give me the box."

"I have no box." 

"Yes, he does! He took it from me!"  

"I have no box, Valdemar! She is insane. She didn't give me a box, but she promised me the scepter she stole from Quildor's fortress safe. I saw the scepter, I saw her steal it. She clearly told me she intended to use the scepter to free our civilization."

"The scepter of rule, Nimiane?" Korlon knew very little about the magic that controlled the ability of the tri-realm refugees to kai meld. But he knew that such a weapon was important, and had been stolen before.

"It is mine!" 

"Where did you get it?" Crevan demanded.

"My mother."

Crevan knew there was far more to understanding the power of these Talismans, and the connection they had to the original settlers. And there was no way he was going to hear it from this dying bag of bones. In one thrust, he ran his sword through the exposed breast of the witch, causing her eyes to widen in amazement and her breath to wheeze from her lungs.

He engaged the outraged Valdemarian.  Each man clashed across the sword of the other, each one lunging and falling back, jumping from pile of rubble to teetering waste. A slip, a twirl, a parry, a thrust. Crevan felt blood running down his chest, he stabbed, drew blood of his own.

The fight raged. Overhead lightning illuminated the sky, and thunder cracked in ever increasing ferocity. Still, they raged on, leaving the place of death and destruction, moving ever closer to the entrance to the tunnels. Korlon was above. He leaped, wrestled Crevan to the ground, and pinned him.

"Give me the scepter!" 

"I don't have it! And if I did, I wouldn't give it to you!" Crevan shoved back with all his might and caused Korlon to fall against the wall of the tunnel. 

Korlon froze as the living mountain seemed to reach out through its tendrils and snares.

He couldn't speak or breath as his blood reacted to the dark magic that held him. He was an adaptee, his body blended with the planet, not this accursed mountain. He had never been inside the mountain,  his adaptations repulsed its powers. With sickening horror, he saw Crevan rise to finish him off. The mountain held him paralyzed.

Suddenly Crevan jerked, an arrow protruding from his left shoulder. The lightning flamed the brilliant outline of a searcher girl, her warrior cry torn from her lips as she followed her arrow. As Crevan fell, she yanked the arrow out of him, kicked him back against the stone, and ran to Korlon who was slowly melding into the solid rock of the mountain tunnel.

"Let him go!" Movement alerted them both to the presence of another. Korlon could only move his eyes, couldn't breathe, couldn't feel his hands or feet. Jerrika leaped to his side and her hand caught his wrist just as he was being swallowed up by the forceful pull inside the mountain.

Her grip was enough, and the gravitational pull of something in the tunnel overcame the pulse of the mountain. He was released with a sudden cessation of energy, and fell forward into Jerrika's arms.

"Korlon!" 

"Jerrika! You're alive! You're free!"

"Nimiane freed me!" She exclaimed. "And I found Talisman!"

He staggered away from the grip of the forbidden mountain and looked over her shoulder to the entrance to the tunnel. There he could make out the bluish shape hovering there. Whatever it was it had told the mountain to release him. That act alone made it sentient!

"I am grateful." He squinted into the dark interior, the wind whipping his hair into his eyes.  "Who are you?"

"I am Talisman!" 

They all looked to where Crevan was struggling to rise, his left arm hanging limp at his side, and his right hand covering the wound that bled freely and darkly down his chest. Jerrika drew another arrow and notched it, but Talisman ripped the arrow from her hand and held the arrow bound to the stone. 

"Talisman! That man is evil! He tried to kill Korlon!"

"Ondrea's blood is in his veins!" Talisman stated calmly. "You may not kill him."

Another crack of thunder was accompanied by the flaming illumination of lightning as the storm raged overhead, but all of them could see the huge majestic form of Talisman, a blue and gold dragon, as it gracefully left the shelter of its cave and approached Crevan who cowered, falling back against the stone with a cry as he threw up his arm.

"Talisman preserves the pure blood of Ondrea Aquaria." In a lightning fast tremor, a small snort of white fire burst from Talisman's nostrils toward the wound in Crevan's arm. He yelled, but couldn't move as the white hot brand seared his skin closed. 

"It healed me!" Crevan cried as his pain vanished. "You have found the Talisman and it has the power to heal." He indicated his arm where blood stained the sleeve of his blouse, but no cut remained to mar his skin. "I must find the scepter Nimiane stole. It would be back near her resting place." 

Jerrika's gaze riveted in sudden fear as a rushing of movement crashed Crevan to the ground. The rubble around them began to swarm with Minions. As Crevan fell, Jerrika saw Quildor as he motioned for his Minions to take Korlon and herself. There was only one thing to do. Jerrika grabbed Korlon around the waist and transformed into Harpyiae, her wings enfolded them and she rose from the destruction.

******