“This will take more effort than I anticipated. Morgada had a hand in the original casting. For the last slave, Vradoc and I worked together to resurrect him. Vradoc is dead, thanks to you, human. I must do the work alone now.”
“That will take too long,” Idaria countered. “There is no telling what time we have before another Titan returns.”
“I can do nothing more than what I said.” The sorcerer indicated the medallion, which lay dormant. “And this proves my words true.”
Stefan frowned. “It would take days and days to free all of them.”
The Titan’s expression revealed nothing.
Idaria reached out to the frozen figure. Her hands gently touched the pained face. The transformation was so complete that the elf even cut her finger on the sharpened corner of the chin.
As she pulled the injured finger back, Idaria saw the blood absorbed into the figure. The frozen elf evinced a slightly different hue.
The knight, eyes flashing, stepped up beside her. “What did you do?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure. But there may be a way.” Idaria turned to the Titans’ last victim. She pointed at the sinister device above the corpse. “That is filled with elf blood.”
The sorcerer nodded. “Yes. Even though we have the Fire Rose, elf blood has … interesting, valuable properties.”
Idaria’s hands briefly tightened into fists. Her angry glare was such that even the spellcaster took a step back. “Let us pray those properties remain for a time, even after death.”
She exchanged a look with Stefan. Understanding, Stefan grimaced but nodded. The Titan cocked his head in clinical interest.
“Yes,” he murmured. “The blood could possibly do it.”
“If it does the job and we leave with the elves, you’ll have done your part,” the knight informed the blue-skinned spellcaster. “I will free you. Our agreement will be over.”
“Then let’s be done with this, human.” The Titan raised his hands, but instead of casting a spell, he removed the hoses from the body. Stefan mumbled a prayer for the dead. Idaria flinched as the sorcerer paid little mind to how his tugging caused the hooks to pull out with bits of flesh.
Twisting the device around, the Titan manipulated it so the appendages faced not the legions of petrified elves, but rather, himself.
Idaria protested. “You should let it pass over them.”
He looked at her with some slight contempt for her ignorance. “I know what I do. You want them all freed quickly. I must be the conduit.”
Without waiting for her or the knight to reply, the Titan adjusted the hoses. He then began speaking in the singing language.
“Do you understand him?” the elf quietly asked Stefan.
“No, he wears the medallion, and I dare not remove it. Trust in Kiri-Jolith that he’ll do as he says. Any subterfuge on his part will be turned back upon him. If he’s honest, though, he need fear nothing.”
Idaria did not look persuaded. However, there was no real choice but to hope that the Titan would do as commanded.
The sorcerer sang louder. Idaria’s hair tingled as it would have if lightning had discharged nearby. The odor that she had associated with that elemental force grew more evident.
A black aura formed around the Titan as he stretched out his taloned hands. He bent his head up, staring at the foul device.
A second aura suddenly surrounded the container housing the elf blood. However, that aura was green, a green reminiscent of the forest of Silvanesti. Idaria felt a tear slip from one eye.
The Titan brought his taloned hands together. The two auras moved toward one another, melding. The black took on an emerald hue as the sorcerer gained control of his spell. The Titan’s expression was one of both exhilaration and astonishment.
“So much life! So much energy! Why did not Dauroth or Safrag ever tell us what it would mean to take it into ourselves in such a manner?” He grinned, his sharp teeth giving him a very hungry appearance.
“Recall your task!” Idaria shouted.
The sorcerer sniffed at her then turned to face the hundreds of dread statues. The device continued to feed the green aura into his black one.
He spread his hands toward the enchanted figures and once more sang the magic. Despite the beauty of his singing, there was something that both the human and the elf found ominous in it.
Then from his hands burst the green-black aura. It shot to the foremost of the statues, engulfing it. Almost instantly, twin, like-colored streams dispersed from the first figure to the two nearest. From each of those elves, two more streams shot forth to touch another pair.
Within seconds, the aura had spread through a hundred. From there, it even more quickly doubled its number then quadrupled it. On and on the aura spread until at last, within less than a minute, it had touched all of the imprisoned elves.
The Titan raised his hands to the ceiling. His singing reached a grand crescendo.
Great emerald flames rose up around each elf. Yet the flames did not burn the figures; rather, they melted away the enchantment. Hard stone dripped away, revealing flesh. Raised arms lowered and stifled screams erupted, only to die down as the screamers realized they were free. Moans arose everywhere as the slaves sought to recuperate from their horrific ordeals.
The flames rushed through the ranks, adding to the living. Some elves turned and clutched one another in relief. Others crouched in fear, thinking that perhaps some more dire fate awaited them. Most turned to stare at the Titan, expecting that he was lord of their futures.
Then a few noticed Idaria and Stefan-especially the Solamnic’s weapon-and the confusion spread. Not even a Titan was haughty enough to permit a prisoner to hold a sword.
Idaria raised her hands for silence. Elves in the front signaled to those in back to quiet.
The last of the slaves had been freed. The Titan finally dropped his own hands. The aura faded. The sorcerer looked exhausted but still exhilarated.
Seizing the moment, Idaria called out, “We are here to bring you to freedom!”
Some of the prisoners stared suspiciously at the Titan, who sneered back. The elves remained as frozen in place as if they were still statues.
“She means what she says!” Stefan added, brandishing his weapon. “But you must quickly gather those who are weakest and help them follow! We must leave immediately, or we risk losing our chance!”
When, still, the Titan seemed more of interest to the slaves than their calls to freedom, Idaria finally shouted in frustration, “He can do nothing to you anymore! Come!”
With that, the surge of freedom began in earnest. Moving with far more animation than they had perhaps in ages, the slaves converged on the trio. The elves were still cautious enough to veer away from the Titan, who watched in amusement.
Idaria and Stefan were faced with a flood of living beings. The two turned to lead their charges out.
A belated concern touched Idaria. To the sorcerer, she asked, “Will they be able to pass through the wall?”
“The way is open in both directions now.”
Trusting to the medallion to keep the Titan true to his word, Idaria called out to the slaves, “Go no farther than the hall directly outside! I will join you once I have made certain that there are no delays here.”
“Yes, mistress,” replied more than one subserviently.
“I am not your mistress! You are no one’s thrall anymore!”
With tentative smiles, the elves moved on, a flow of humanity.
“It’s happening!” Idaria breathed. “It’s happening! We’ve a chance to go home-”
“The only place you’re going is back to serving our needs!” she heard the Titan declare in a loud, gleeful voice.
There were screams near where the giant sorcerer stood. Black flames erupted around the Titan, flames with an emerald tint.
Pressed against the walls by the streaming, suddenly fearful bodies, both Stefan and Idaria could only watch in horror as the Titan betrayed them. With only his own powers, he had been unable to withstand the holy essence of the medallion. However, it was no longer his power alone that the dark sorcerer wielded. He was still linked to the blood-draining device.