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Another door.
Damn the demon’s hide. The Door Master was at it again, using theEcotoneto infiltrate her realm, defying her authority. Anckar called to her, trying to recapture her attention. Ignoring his prattling, Lyonesse went hunting without leaving her room. Following the magical trail, she scoured her domain for a location.
There.
To the north.
Deep in the Parkland, beneath the invisible dome, inside Westvane’s cage.
“Anckar!”
Yanked from his diatribe, her guard jerked to attention.
“Gather the others,” she said, spinning away from the windows. Swiping her mantle off a hook, she rushed past him. “Meet me in the Crystal Den.”
“The Crystal Den?”
“Now!”
Racing across the antechamber, Lyonesse wrenched the door open with her mind. The ancient, hand-carved panels whipped open. Korah gasped and jumped back. Ignoring the idiotic Cropper, she sprinted into the hall, uncaring she left Anckar looking confused inside her chamber.
Time was of the essence.
She couldn’t delay.
The most skilled of her fighting Electi needed to leave at once. The Parkland wasn’t close to Ipsalar. Flying the distance would take too long, at least half the night. She’d never reach the Door Master before she slithered back to safety if she didn’t move to intercept the witch now.
Using the last of her crystals to teleport into the Parkland was a risk. The remaining stones lacked the strength they’d once possessed. The depletion of power couldn’t be explained, but Lyonesse knew what it meant. Transporting so many guards at once would drain the last of her crystals’ power. So…
Teleporting would be a one-way trip. In order to get back, she and the others would be forced to fly. A risk, certainly. But one worth taking if it ended the Door Master’s life.
Wings tucked tight to her back, Lyonesse turned a corner and ran down a set of steps. Releasing a burst of magic, she unlocked the door and pushed into the armory. She paused at the railing rimming the labyrinthine space, getting her bearings, mind flipping through the possibilities.
What did the Door Master’s sudden appearance mean?
Westvane wasn’t stupid. Returning to Azlandia with the witch was dangerous, unless…
Her senses rippled. Unless…
He intended to keep faith with her and deliver the human into her hands.
The possibility seemed like an unlikely scenario. But then, much like Priestly, the Slayer had never been predictable. He wanted his freedom. Longed for the ability to come and go — do as he pleased in Azlandia. But was he ruthless enough to sacrifice the Door Master to achieve his goals?
Yes.
He was… without question.
Even so, she must proceed with extreme caution. Westvane, for all his faults, was cunning. A skilled predator, the most accomplished Assenta warrior in Azlandia. She needed to be ready for anything. Use every resource at her disposable to rid her realm of the threat. Otherwise, the Door Master would escape her net before she’d gotten a chance to spring the trap.
50
RIBBONS OF MAGIC
Exiting theEcotone, Truly stepped into a clearing. Lush floral scents. A thick carpet of green grass. Huge trees hugging the perimeter, and nestled at one end, a log cabin. A cool breeze ruffled her hair as she moved out of the doorway and walked toward it, giving Westvane enough room to drag the Wendigo over the threshold.
Westvane’s home.
Small, but serviceable. The place he’d spent more than half his life.
