Aliisza was in her natural form, dressed in black leather armor that molded to her curves in a most provocative way. Her sword hung on her right hip, the magical ring that protected her from physical blows was in its familiar place on the third finger of her left hand, and the ring that had belonged to Pharaun encircled the fourth finger of her right hand. Her other trinkets and the pouch of magical components for spells were there, too.
Tauran watched her intently, wearing that faintly wistful expression again.
Aliisza pulled her long sword and sliced through the celestial before he even reacted. She watched him flinch but was dismayed to see that the sword passed right through him without affecting him.
"Bastard!" she screamed.
The alu raised her hand, pointing at him. She uttered the words of a common spell, conjuring a trio of magical glowing darts that shot from the tip of her finger. The darts streaked directly at Tauran, but they vanished as they struck him. The angel didn't flinch.
"You can rot in the Abyss!" she screamed, furious at feeling so inept.
She spun away and ran toward the balcony. She charged through the opening and launched herself up in the air. Her wings spread wide, Aliisza took flight, soaring up into the heavens, which were filled with billowing puffy clouds glowing orange in the late afternoon sun. She pumped her wings rhythmically, gaining altitude, putting distance between herself and her tormentor as fast as she could.
As before, there was no ground, only an endless expanse of clouds. She kept the Court, resting atop its flattened mountain, behind her, setting a course directly away from it.
I did it, she thought. I slipped away before they could imprison me, before they could separate me from my child.
The alu wondered if she could escape the plane entirely. She had no idea how, and she wondered how long it would be before Tauran sent pursuit after her. She didn't care. She was free, at least for the moment, and she would never let them take her captive again.
She glanced over her shoulder and nearly stopped flying in dismay. The great structures of the Court were still there, no farther away than they had been. Somehow, she had failed to put distance between herself and the mountaintop.
She snarled and went into a dive, plummeting into the cloud cover, which stretched away in every direction as far as her eye could see, like an endless gossamer plain. Deeper and deeper she went.
Aliisza pulled up and hovered for a moment, listening.
There was no sound. She could see nothing except the gray glow of the cloud all around her. The coolness of the moisture chilled her skin, made her shiver. Slowly, she began to descend again, under control this time, swooping at a gradual rate.
The clouds did not end.
Frustrated, Aliisza began to climb. Almost immediately, she popped through the top of the billowing haze into open air. She had not traveled far at all.
No escape, the half-fiend realized in a panic. Trapped here forever. No!
Aliisza launched herself upward, folding and unfolding her wings for all she was worth, climbing higher and higher, soaring as far above the glistening stone of the Court as she could. Still she climbed, afraid to look down, knowing what she'd see as soon as she did.
The air grew thin and much colder, and the sky began to deepen. The first stars appeared overhead, and Aliisza chose one, began to fly toward it, still climbing, flying. Anything to get away from the accursed palace of Tyr.
When she looked down, the island was still there, though it had become somewhat smaller. But Aliisza knew she couldn't escape it. In despair, she cried out, screamed. Her voice spread out into the ethereal nothingness that seemed to surround the cruel imitation of the Court, diminishing quickly.
The alu felt utterly alone.
With a sob, she folded her wings upon her back and let herself plummet. She would rather die than remain trapped in such an insidious, horrible place.
Myshik stood in a cool foyer. The half-dragon blinked, adjusting to the sudden shift in surroundings. His father, Roraurim, had explained to him the gift Uncle Nahaunglaroth had bestowed upon the cambion, but to witness it firsthand was stunning. Even standing within it, the warrior had difficulty accepting what he saw.
Slabs of polished onyx striated with deep red, almost purplish veins made up the floor. Columns of deep red stone rose to support a second-floor balcony. Torches burned at intervals upon the columns and the walls, set in black iron sconces and giving the chamber a warm, inviting glow. Several plush carpets woven in intricate patterns lay in various places upon the tiles. Tapestries and sculpted artwork adorned the walls and corners of the room. Several other doorways led deeper into the interior, and twin spiral staircases ascended to the balcony along either side of the rear wall.
Zasian stood in the center of the room, looking around with a smile upon his face. The half-dragon could see why.
Two rows of servants, all beautiful human women with lustrous black hair and emerald green eyes, stood in lines facing the front entrance, smiling. Each had a unique appearance, and all wore gauzy dresses that revealed more than they hid.
"How is this place possible?" Myshik asked, his tone breathy with awe and excitement.
"Pocket dimension," the priest explained, strolling to a wall and studying a tapestry more closely. "Something of a magical mansion, actually," Zasian added. "All of this shapes and forms itself around the cambion's whims. Whatever he imagines comes to be. Quite the clever little sanctuary, don't you think?"
"Indeed," Myshik admitted. "Is it safe? Can we get back out again?"
Zasian shrugged. "Safe enough," he said. "Certainly more hospitable than out there, but if you fear being trapped, then by all means, step back through," he added, gesturing behind the half-dragon toward the entrance.
Myshik turned and stared back the way he had come. The shimmering curtain still rippled there like a pool of water, only vertical. As he watched, Vhok appeared, stepping through the wavering surface.
"Welcome to my humble home-away-from-home," Vhok said as he gestured at the doorway. The shimmer vanished, leaving a stone wall in its place. The cambion moved toward one of the staircases leading to the second floor. "It ought to ease some of the stresses of our journey considerably." He began to climb the stairs. As he did so, he issued a series of orders to the magical servants, sending dark-haired beauties scurrying to tend to various tasks. Vhok instructed some of them to begin preparing a hearty meal, while others were to serve the three of them as personal attendants.
Three of the women moved to accompany Myshik, who stood before the blank wall where the magical doorway had been, testing it. It was solid from edge to edge.
"We're quite safe in here," Vhok said from the balcony, casting a last look down at his two guests. "I've closed it to keep other things from wandering in. We'll open it in the morning."
Myshik nodded and turned to face the cambion.
"I need a good soak and an intense massage, and I imagine you'll find some tasks for your attendants, too," Vhok said with a lascivious smile. Then the cambion turned away, stepped through the double doors at the top of the stairs, and disappeared as the twin portals closed, his attendants in tow.
Myshik cast a glance at Zasian. "Where?" he asked. "Which rooms are which?"
The priest shrugged, still grinning, then turned to one of the maidens gathered close to him. "Which room is mine?" he asked the woman.
The attendant never stopped smiling, nor did she answer. She simply kept her gaze on the human, as though expecting something.
"Oh, wait," Zasian said, snapping his fingers. "I've got it." He looked directly at the attendant. "Show me to my chambers," he instructed. Immediately, the woman turned and led the way toward a door off the foyer, opening it and beckoning gracefully. Zasian nodded. "You have to frame everything in the form of a command. They're magical servants, can't speak. But they'll do anything you tell them. Enjoy!" he chortled, then vanished into his quarters.