"Why didn't you say so earlier?" the merman said. He gathered his champion and what guards were available and left for the permanent pool. Perhaps there was still time. In short order they exited to the upper world, the ambassador racked with momentary disorientation as he transformed into a walker once more.
Laquatus appeared at the foot of the citadel near the lower wall. Gullies and heavy brush backed the hill on which the castle sat. The thick growth made movement difficult but infiltration fairly easy. The ambassador was surprised that the Order had not placed traps or at least planted poisonous shrubs. However, he was willing to take advantage of the situation.
There were no roads or paths around the hill to the castle gates. Knowing that time was of the essence, he sank into a trance, preparing to act once more through the jack. The camouflaged amphibian worked his way to the winding road, careful to be unobserved as he dropped from above. A surge of people ascended the path below him, and soldiers came down from above. The ambassador sent pulses of illusion and misdirection, reinforcing the jack's camouflage as he climbed to the main part of the Citadel.
Explosions shook the air, and Laquatus sent the frog up at a run, tearing through the gates. He saw Kamahl force his way past the guard. Covering the intervening courtyard without becoming involved with the fighting was nearly impossible, but he did it. The jack threw himself rolling past the barbarian as the metal-hued warrior turned back to look outside. The frog made quite a bit of noise, and he ran ahead lest he be caught in close quarters. But the barbarian gave no sign that he noticed the sea warrior through the web of deceit, and Laquatus resolved to attack.
His attempt to ambush the mountain mage failed, and Kamahl forged ahead of the mer champion, blocking Turg's path to the lieutenant and the prize. Petulance at his opponent's poor timing sent the ambassador and his frog into a rage. He grabbed every thing he could from the tables to throw down the hall. Goblets, platters, and bones whistled through the air, only to be rendered harmless by the barbarian's defenses.
Laquatus reigned his temper in. Kirtar had the real prize, and time wasted on Kamahl took true power farther away every minute. Besides, who knew how far the crystal wave might travel? The castle might be uninhabitable at any moment, and he was having a food fight.
Realizing how trivial the barbarian really was, he unleashed a school of flying fish as a distraction, passing the barbarian in a cloud of deceit. The frog shied away from the white flame surrounding Kamahl, the heat drying his skin, making him dangerously lethargic.
Once past, Turg wondered which way to go, confused for a moment as to where Kirtar might be. Seeing a stairway he moved into it. A barrel of water for washing the floor delayed Turg as he drank the filthy water down, his primitive instincts overriding Laquatus's sophistication.
The ambassador reestablished control with a burst of will. He must find the prize. While he wondered where to go, clattering footsteps descended the stairs. He faded into the shadows. He glimpsed Kirtar, the object of his quest, carried past by three guards. He moved to follow, only to be blocked by a group of servants retreating from upstairs.
"I will not be denied," thundered Laquatus in Turg's skull, and lighting arced from his fingers, slaying those in his way. He ran after the lieutenant, seeing the wave of crystal already coming through the wall.
The jack moved silently, running after the warriors retreating from their master's disastrous spell. The aven stopped as the lieutenant called out.
"I must try again," he insisted in a hollow voice, the words barely audible even to Turg's excellent ears. The bird warriors kept moving until he weakly swatted at their hands, the palest glow surrounding his fists. "I command the Order, now stop!" The three did so reluctantly.
"Sir, you have tried so many times to turn the spell," one said, his eyes signaling that he wanted to run. "Why should you succeed this time."
Kirtar folded himself around the orb.
"Because I must," he said. The lieutenant's frame shivered violently, but he regained control. "The crystal devours me. Find out what is happening." The mage lost himself in a trance.
The retainers separated, one going to check on the advancing spell, the other going ahead. Laquatus watched through the amphibian's eyes as the bird warrior looked back, hesitation plain in his face. Then he turned abruptly and walked away.
Once the lieutenant has a single retainer, Turg ran down the corridor, a lance of lightning surging from his hands. The ambassador put everything into the link, the electrical arc growing until it was arm- thick. The stroke continued through the soldier's body, burning away the plaster on a wall ten feet away. The frog collapsed, his spells exhausted as the last barrier to the orb fell.
Kirtar's eyes were clear, jolted out of his trance as the amphibian crawled closer. The leader of the Order lay slack, shock visible on his face. He began to tremble once more and pushed out his palm as if to command the world to halt. Turg glanced behind him. The wall of crystal was advancing faster. Laquatus knew it was time to claim the prize.
The lieutenant cried out as Turg plucked the sphere from the aven's hand. The bird warrior faded even further as he lost touch with the sphere. The ambassador ignored everything as his champion gripped the prize. The bright mirror finish of the orb darkened, the reflected light from the spreading crystal lost as the prize changed. The ambassador forced the pit frog to retreat, lest it be entombed with the others. Rousing the will to move was as difficult a battle as any Laquatus had ever fought.
Turg blindly stumbled away, still looking at the wonder cupped in his hands. The sphere was the color of the seas, constantly shifting and changing. The blue of the tropics gave way to the gray of the northern reaches. The ambassador looked through the frog's eyes as the prize continued to change. The sphere became a globe of water-endless tides sweeping across it unhindered by the land. A world that hinted at wonders hidden under its surface.
Turg tripped and tumbled with none of his deadly grace. Only the terrified shout of Laquatus's spirit prevented the prize from spinning out of the pit frog's grasp. The globe still called to the ambassador's mind, but he resisted the urge. There would be plenty of time to plumb its depths after the amphibian was safely back in camp.
A call came from below, the calm voice of Captain Satas speaking through the ether. "I have arrived with new mages. Do you wish to return to the underworld?"
"Yes!" shouted the ambassador's spirit. Turg fell into a pool of swirling energy as the tresias, and his mages reacted to the apparent source of the call. The shock of passage pulled the ambassador's spirit back to his rightful body. He shook himself awake and looked around. He was out of the gully, his clothes torn and bleeding from abrasions. The travel mage held onto his arms and bruising covered the minion's face.
"Why am I out here?" Laquatus demanded, slapping away the blind hands as he felt his minor pains.
"You left the entrance at a run, lost in your trance. You would not stop or respond," the mage said wretchedly. "The others were afraid to restrain you physically, and my weight was too slight to stop you. 1 tried to ensnare you in an illusion, but you went right through them. You moved without direction, dragging me through brush and bouncing off trees. 1 don't know where we are." The amphibian wailed, lost in the world beyond his caves.
Laquatus had driven Turg often enough to realize that his link with the jack was bleeding back to him. As the aristocrat's spirit concerned itself solely with directing the frog, his own body responded to echoes of those commands. He would have to exercise more care in the future. But even with blood dripping from his face, the ambassador was in a good mood. Who cared where he was. He had captured the prize.