Calis interrupted. ‘I merely did what I was born to do. It was my fate.’
Pug said, ‘But it took courage.’
Calis smiled. ‘No one in this room today can be accused of lacking courage.’
Nakor said, ‘I can. I don’t have much. I just couldn’t think of a good way to get out of here.’
Miranda said, ‘Liar,’ and pushed him playfully.
Calis looked at his father and said, ‘Mother will be surprised.’
‘Surprised at what?’ asked Tomas.
Pug said, ‘You look different.’
‘Different? How?’
Nakor reached into his bag and felt around a moment, then produced a hand mirror, silver-backed glass. ‘Here, take a look.’
Tomas took the mirror and his eyes widened as he saw what his son had meant. Gone was the alien edge to his appearance, what he judged the Valheru legacy. Now he looked mortal, a human male with elvish ears. He looked at Calis and said, ‘You’ve changed as well.’
Dominic said, ‘We’ve all changed.’ He pulled back his hood and Pug said, ‘Your hair!’
Dominic said, ‘Black again, right?’
‘You look as you did when we traveled to Kelewan, so many years ago!’
Miranda said, ‘Give me that mirror,’ and snatched it out of Tomas’s hand. She inspected herself and said, ‘Gods! I look as if I’m twenty-five again!’
Then she turned the mirror toward Pug and his eyes widened. Looking back at him was a face he hadn’t seen since he had returned from Kelewan, a youthful man without a hint of grey in his hair or beard. ‘I’ll be . . .’ he said softly. Then he flexed his hand and said, ‘I don’t believe it.’
‘What?’ asked Miranda.
‘Years ago, I cut my right hand, damaging it enough I’ve never since enjoyed full strength in it.’ He stared at it a moment, flexing his fingers again. ‘I think it’s completely healed.’
Nakor said, ‘How old do I look?’ He took the mirror from Miranda and inspected himself. ‘Hmrnm. I look about forty.’
‘You seem disappointed,’said Miranda.
‘I was hoping I’d be handsome.’ Then he grinned. ‘But forty’s not bad.’
Calls said, ‘I now understand what that key was the Pantathians were forging with the captured life, and what the alien presence was.’
Tomas said, ‘The Nameless One?’
Calis shook his head. ‘No, some other presence. Perhaps those creatures who created the rifts for the Pantathians. But one thing was clear, that alien key would have permitted Maarg or Jakan to use the Lifestone.’
‘As a weapon?’ asked Dominic.
‘No,’ said Calis. ‘As distilled life energy. That’s food to demons. Can you imagine Jakan ten times the size and with a hundred times the power he had moments ago? That would have been the result of a demon using that key to tap the Lifestone.’
Miranda shook her head in amazement. ‘And we still don’t know how all these different players, the demons, the Pantathians, those’ - she looked at Pug - ‘what did you call them?’
‘Shangri,’ answered Pug.
‘Shangri, got together,’ finished Miranda.
Pug said, ‘There are still mysteries, but we have to put them aside for a while.’
Calis nodded. ‘There is but one thing we need to do now.’
‘What’s that?’ said Miranda.
Calis’s expression turned somber. ‘We must stop a war.’
TWENTY-SEVEN - Truth
A battle raged.
It was a scene from hell, as men seethed in the city streets under torchlight. The castle had held until nightfall, but the enemy hadn’t withdrawn under cover of darkness. It was obvious to Erik that a change in command had taken place, for suddenly he was facing the same motley mercenaries he had faced since the war began, but now they were acting in coordination, using their numbers to good effect, and grinding down the defenders.
Erik directed his men along the southern wall of the keep, as the invaders attempted to fill the moat with anything that would give them a means of reaching the wall. Furniture, broken wagons, dirt, anything they could find was being thrown into the water.
The defenders were shooting as many arrows as humanly possible, but the attack was unrelenting.
Manfred peered over the wall at the sea of humanity, thousands of soldiers pressing toward the ancient keep. ‘This hardly looks good,’ he said.
‘You have a knack for understatement,’ said Erik. He put his hand on Manfred’s shoulders, pushing down slightly.
Manfred ducked as some rocks thrown by slingers on the roofs of the buildings on the other side of the moat whizzed by.
‘How do you do that?’ asked Manfred.
‘Do what?’
‘Know when to duck?’
Erik smiled. ‘I saw the stingers crawling on the roof at sundown. I’ve been keeping an eye on them. It gets to be a habit.’
‘If you live long enough.’
Erik said, ‘What sort of shape are we in?’