I sighed, and said, “Yes, because it couldn’t possibly be as easy as slitting an archon’s throat, desecrating a shrine in the home of a god, destroying four orbs within seconds of each other, running through a portal, and using a scroll on the other side, before getting out of the city. That would have been too easy. So, what happened?”

‘Shalheira’ shook her head. “I wish I could be upset with your attitude, but they echo my own thoughts. I had a perfect sacrifice already prepared. One of the commanders of the city guard was an archon I’d been working on corrupting, setting him up to give the Inquisition a chance to start ‘cleansing’ the ranks. Unfortunately, he got transferred over to the Magika side of the portal with the recent shift of manpower, and his replacement is not suitable for framing, at all.”

“Very righteous type, then?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “He is a trumpet archon, like the one I had intended to bring, but a Paladin, rather than a fighter. He has a reputation for being utterly devoted to the cause of righteousness. No one would believe that he was a traitor, or had succumbed to temptation willingly. Worse, still, his father is Zadkiel, known as the Divine Blade.”

I grew very still, and my voice turned cold. But it was that or yell, and bring too much attention to our plotting. “Zadkiel, you say? Trumpet archon in the service of Tyr?”

‘Shalheira’ looked at me, frowning slightly. “Formerly in service to Tyr, yes. Now, he serves Torm. He was cast out from Tyr’s service after a failure in the mortal realms. He still bears the scars of that failure, made permanent by Tyr’s will. The name is known to you?”

“Oh, yes. I know the name quite well. I was the one who gave him those scars. Me, and a friend of mine, who died by my side, when we were attacked by Zadkiel and his mortal children, paladins all. I still have the blade I used to stab him in the eye. So, the bastard had more kids?”

‘Shalheira’ nodded slowly. “Yes, his main wife left his side, choosing to remain loyal to Tyr, but his daughter-wife Sanvi and their son, Peliel, followed him to serve Torm. Peliel is the replacement I spoke of.”

“Daughter-wife, hmm?” Siora chuckled. “How many mortal followers of Torm would be shocked to hear of such a thing not just happening, but going unpunished? It just proves once again how much of ‘morality’ is made up by mortals, not the gods.”

“So, since the son won’t be believed a traitor, what do we do now?” Fartooth chirped. “We still need an archon’s blood to seal the square so we can desecrate it without the lord of the realm showing up instantly to destroy us.”

“That, I’m still trying to work out,” the disguised devil said. “But the other suitable candidates I’ve set up are all in different parts of the realm, or have responsibilities that would keep them from the square at night.”

An idea came to me. A horrible, wonderful, terrible idea. “Remind me, Shalheira. You said that, if we didn’t destroy all the globes within seconds, that they would destabilize and explode. Just how big an explosion are you talking about? And how long would we have before it blew?”

“I’m unsure, exactly. The globes have been absorbing power directly from the weave of magic, as well as the fabric of the plane, so I couldn’t say just how much power is caught up in them. I know that the power would be enough to destroy the city. Both here, and on the other side of the portal. More than that? I cannot say.”

“Would it be enough to damage the structure of this plane?”

The devil’s elven eyes went wide, as she caught on to what I was suggesting. “Yes, it might. It just might. But the damage would be limited. Probably not enough to damage Torm’s divinity, or rob him of the plane as a whole.”

“And if the altar wasn’t desecrated, but merely suppressed or caught within an antimagic field temporarily?”

“Dispelling the altar would be difficult, since it was Torm himself who made it, which is why I thought of desecration, but an antimagic field would work, yes, suppressing the connection enough for the orbs to become vulnerable.”

Siora nodded, slowly. “An antimagic field would cut off the connection temporarily. Long enough to damage the orbs. And, if the spell was cast by one of us, we could drop the spell when we wanted, and the connection would return, right? What effect would that have on the shielding?”

‘Shelheira’ shook her head. “None. The shield spell would have to be recast by someone saying a prayer over the altar, but it wouldn’t come back online.” She paused, and then said, “And, the destruction caused by the destabilization would hit the altar, and its connection to Torm. I don’t even know what that would do to the explosion, but it wouldn’t be anything good, I’m sure.”

Vestele nodded. “That is not a spell I typically prepare, for obvious reasons, but I could prepare it tomorrow. What about the timing, though? How much time would we have to get through the portal, and how much time to get out of Magika?”

‘Shelheira’ shook her head. “A minute, at most. Not enough time to escape the city by normal means, for certain.”

Vestele frowned. “Teleportation would work, if we had a scroll of high enough level. But we’d be relying on Mel or Siora to use it, since they have the skills to ‘trick’ items into activating.”

“I’ll go back to the Merchant district to see about picking up a scroll,” Siora said. “If I can find one, then we can use that to escape the city before it explodes.”

Fartooth nodded. “I’ll slip into the sewers, and try to meet up with our ‘friends’. If they can quietly evacuate their people, then word of the destruction will spread.”

‘Shelheira’ nodded. “A little of the explosion will get through the portal, but not on the same scale as in Magika. If they are back at the trade road when the explosion hits, they should be fine. And it would ensure that news of just what happened got out to the mortals, who would spread the news to the planes with their prayers. It would be the most humiliating defeat Torm has ever suffered.”

I nodded, slowly. “Then, the simple solution is to prepare this night, and tomorrow night, we make our move. ‘Shelheira’ brings Peliel to the square, and we take him down, using the Thinaun blade for the final blow, as agreed. His lifeblood will shield the square long enough for us to finish our business, and get through the portal. Then, we use our friend’s scroll on the archons there, and another scroll to teleport away, before everything comes crashing down. Any objections?”

The devil grinned. “It may not be the same as my ultimate goal of corrupting a god, but it would certainly be a far greater success than fleeing after being found out. Of course, I would escape with you through the portal, and leave, once the spell has been cast, taking the archons in the city to the Hells.”

Siora nodded. “So, if we’re no longer using the sacrifice you originally intended, how will you get this Peliel to the square, alone and without guards?

I leaned forward, looking at the devil in disguise. “Is Peliel as arrogant and prideful as his father was, when I fought him?”

“Yes, the only one of that family who could be said to be humble in the slightest is Sanvi, because she has been dominated by her father for so long. Peliel looks like a younger version of his father, but favors the hammer and shield, rather than the blade. He is still well-trained in using a blade, as all trumpet archons are, but he prefers the hammer.”

“Then, you could appeal to his vanity. He undoubtedly knows who I am. Whisper in his ear, and tell him that meeting me in single combat, and defeating me, would not only give him great standing in the eyes of Torm and his father, but it might even allow him to surpass his father, since he bested one who his father could not.”

‘Shalheira’ looked at me with an appraising stare. “Do you think you could win that duel? Even without his abilities as an archon, Peliel is a seasoned paladin, and his weapons and armor are no mere trinkets.”

With a smile, I said, “It would not be a one-sided slaughter. I may not wear heavy armor, like a paladin, but I am confident that my blade will reach him far more often than his hammer touches me. Even with the use of spells, I am confident in the outcome of this fight.

“And,” I winked, “if it doesn’t look like it will work out, I’ll simply cheat.”

(Elsewhere)

Traveling had not been easy on Balde, especially with her condition. She had been forced to temporarily lay aside her plate armor, and instead protect herself with a shirt of chain links. It offered less protection, perhaps, but it was still better than just the clothes on her back.

Of course, with her belly swollen as it was, she wasn’t going to be looking for fights. That was a losing move, if ever she heard one. But the road was dangerous, and she could not afford to just sit idle in a city while there was work to be done. So, she prepared for contingencies, while hoping they did not come into play. Even if she had lighter armor, now, and could not stand by her brother’s side, their swords and shields drawn as one, she could still stand on the back line and support him with her bow.

Soon, however, even that would not be possible. Her time was coming, and soon. Within the tenday, for certain. What divinations the mission in Halfgate could do for them had foretold that it would be about now.

Fortunately, they were almost to Trenia, the last major city along the northern road. Past there, all one saw were smaller cities, barely worth the name, and villages and towns, until you got to the Endless Glacier, which was full of monsters and more.

And the monsters were moving. Some force had united many of the tribes of the glacier, it seemed, and was pushing them to expand to the south. Even by the time they had reached Mardon’s Ford, the tales of the army bearing the symbol of a snowflake upon a black diamond had reached them. The symbol being so closely tied to that of the Frostmaiden left little doubt as to which of the gods the leader of this force followed.

She noticed Gery’s back stiffen, and turned away from her thoughts, to the road around them. They were not far from Trenia, now, close enough that she could see the city in the distance. Bandits and monsters would not normally attack so close to the city, would they? Looking to her brother, she asked, “What is it?”

Gery simply pointed towards the city. “I saw drawings of the standard of the Lord Mayor of Trenia in Mardon’s Ford. The flags on the walls and the keep are not those standards. It is a grey field, with a black diamond and a snowflake in the center.”

“Then Trenia has already fallen to the monster horde? How fares the city, then?”

“It still stands, at least, but I don’t know what welcome we’ll find there.”

“Should we hide our symbols?”

Gery considered for a moment. “No. If they are displaying that flag openly, then there must be more going on than a horde rampaging through the land. It is a risk, but we need more information if we are to properly formulate a strategy. At the very least, we need to know what happened to the shrine of the Lady kept here, and its keeper.”

“I understand. The Lady moves us as she will. Then, let us be about it, brother.”