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.Jet wrenched himself to the right, leaving the spirit behind.Unfortunately, it was still close enough to try a different form of attack.Though she couldn’t define precisely what she perceived or how, Cera suddenly sensed its malice stabbing at her like a dagger leaping at her eye.She felt her spirit separating from her body as it had when she and Aoth had performed the ritual of discovery in the temple garden in Soolabax.But then it had been of Cera’s own volition.There, above the Hurong’s Road, some power was dragging her out, and the shadow pounced at her to pierce her material form to its core and fill the void.“Keeper!” she cried.The god’s power thrust her soul back into its proper place.The demon splashed against an invisible barrier, its limbs and horned head losing all definition.Despite Jet’s dogged efforts at evasion, another demon appeared right in front of him, so close he had no hope of avoiding it.The spirit plunged its claws into his shoulder, holding on with one hand and raking with the other.Meanwhile, another shadow materialized above the griffon’s left wing and snatched hold of that.Cera drew another measure of Amaunator’s power, pressed her hand to Jet’s back, and made him shine like he himself was a piece of the sun.Creatures of living darkness, the demons released their holds and flung themselves away from the holy radiance.They still weren’t done, however.The glow flickered and dimmed as bursts of shadow threatened to taint and drown it.The invasive gloom came with freezing cold that made Cera gasp and Jet’s body jerk beneath her.She channeled still more of Amaunator’s strength and poured it into her enchantment.Jet’s body burned brighter and brighter, although the glare never hindered her vision or his, until finally the blasts of frigid darkness stopped.For a moment, she felt fierce satisfaction.Then she remembered the Aglarondans and looked down.Though Jet’s light was dimming as she’d stopped channeling strength into it, it was still bright enough to reveal the scene below in gruesome detail.Every griffonrider and every one of the steeds lay mangled and motionless; only the undead were moving.Those that subsisted on flesh gobbled it as greedily as the griffons had earlier devoured the poisonous filth.Others continued slashing and pounding their fallen foes, either because they enjoyed it or because no one had told them it was all right to stop.Some were violating Aglarondan corpses in stranger and even more sickening ways.The skull lord stood amid the carnage.Cera made out a pair of shadow demons hovering above him.The undead captain beckoned, challenging her.She yearned to accept.It was a sunlady’s duty to destroy the walking dead, and in that instance, the obligation meshed perfectly with her desires.She hated the things below her.For massacring the Aglarondans in such a foul and treacherous way.For nearly killing Jet and her.For making her fail when she’d wanted so desperately to succeed.Still, she recognized that it would be suicide to continue a fight against such overwhelming odds, so she didn’t protest when Jet wheeled and fled.She simply used more of her rapidly diminishing mystical strength to close his wounds.After a time, she said, “That was a trap.A trap for the griffonriders specifically.”“I think so, too,” said Jet.“The horses gave it away.”“But does that make sense?” she asked.“How could the enemy be sure of catching them and no one else?”“You humans with your kinked way of thinking are better at figuring out things like that,” Jet said with a grunt.Maybe they were.But no matter how Cera turned the matter over in her mind, all she could see was that five groups of outlanders had taken up Yhelbruna’s quest, and there were only four remaining.* * * * *Dai Shan had observed long before that the important moments in life weren’t spaced out evenly.Either nothing happened, or situations that demanded attention arrived in quick succession.So it was that night.He’d only just dismissed the shadow he’d created to spy on the Griffon Lodge, when the thing he’d retrieved from the spot where Falconer had instructed him to look for it gave a little bleating cry from the brassbound leather chest where he’d hidden it.He crossed the chamber to the chest, unlocked it with the proper word, and opened it.Raking aside layers of clothing, he lifted out the undead demonbinder’s gift—if gift was the appropriate term for such a grotesquerie.Though Dai Shan too had studied what many considered to be an unsavory form of the mystic arts, as well as the techniques his family used to interrogate and chastise prisoners, touching the thing made his skin crawl.It looked like the right-hand side of a baby that had been split lengthwise, a freakish baby born under a curse.What there was of the head was abnormally big and bulbous, and patches of its skin were as scaly as a snake’s.The body’s three fingers and two toes ended in black claws.When Dai Shan had smuggled it into the castle and hidden it away, it had seemed dead, as by all rights it should certainly have been.But it squirmed feebly and opened an eye that, though it rolled from side to side, was all bloodshot sclera, with no discernible pupil or iris.Dai Shan assumed that once the creature had been a complete imp.Falconer had presumably called it forth from one of the lower worlds, cut it in two, kept one half for himself, and had some swift, stealthy servant carry the other to Immilmar.The half-imp’s eye stopped moving, presumably because it was looking at Dai Shan, although it was impossible to tell for certain.Then it spoke his name in Falconer’s deep, hollow, oddly accented voice.“Noble captain,” Dai Shan replied, and imagined his own voice issuing from the mouth of the half-imp still in the undead mage’s keeping.“I trust you have good news.”“The Aglarondans are dead,” Falconer said.“Excellent,” the Shou replied.“I told you my drug would make the griffons particularly susceptible to enchantment
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