Lauro looked at him this time, a sickly grin on his face. "Almost. When I heard what was required- by my own father none the less- I snapped. I wanted nothing more to do with the test, or my honor, or being prince. So I... so I helped the pirate Gram escape. With my Wind Striding and his Stone Striding, it wasn't hard. My father never suspected me until the escape was already known over the entire realm."

"He cast you out..." Gribly whispered in horror.

"No. He punished me, first. Then he cast me out. He told me never, ever to come back, unless I came back carrying the head of Gram."

Gribly's mouth dropped open; he couldn't help it. "All this time... you've been searching for my father, to kill him?"

"NO!" roared Lauro. To Gribly's sight, it seemed as if the world grew darker around the two of them. He stumbled back, rubbed his eyes, and found that it hadn't been imaginary, the darkness was real. "No," the prince repeated, calmer. "I've been searching for another way... any other way. I thought... if my father had believed the Aura had blessed me with greatness... I thought maybe they could make me great. They could show me how to be the man my father wanted. The son he always wished for."

Lauro broke down in tears. Gribly stared for a moment, unhinged by the display of the last emotion he would have expected from the prince... then he grabbed his friend's shoulder and squeezed, hard.

"Listen," he said. "I don't know the answer to anything you're seeking, and I don't know what Wanderwillow has told you so far, or shown you in that book... but just know that, no matter what differences and disagreements we've had in the past... I will always stand by your side. My own brother was taken from me before I knew he existed, and now he's my worst enemy. You know what, Lauro? That makes you my brother, now. It doesn't matter what demons or worse enemies come for us, we'll face them together."

Suddenly thunder rumbled and boomed overhead, flashing and echoing for several seconds before dying away completely. Gribly ignored it, so intent was he on making amends with his former friend. Shadows crept in on either side, but still the two young men stood in the center of the dell, oblivious to the world around them.

No one spoke. Then, almost too quiet to hear, Gribly caught the sound of a m.u.f.fled thud behind him. A footstep.

Lauro lifted his head, a steely gleam in his eye. "Together?"

"Together."

Without warning, Lauro grabbed him by the shirt and thrust him to the side, leaping forward into the air with a strangled war-cry on his lips.

"TOGETHER!" screamed the prince. Gribly lost his balance from the shove and toppled to one side with a gasp of surprise.

At the edge of the clearing stood a hideous old man like none he had ever seen... and Lauro was charging right for him!

Chapter Sixteen: World Grows Dark.

The old man was dressed all in black, his face was made of gold, and there was blood on every part of him. That was all Gribly saw before the battle began and all Blazes broke loose. How Lauro had seen or sensed the mysterious foe coming, he didn't know, and it didn't seem to help the prince very much.

Halfway through his jump, Lauro froze in midair and screamed as his back twisted in on itself. For a moment he was held suspended between heaven and earth, then he was thrown over Gribly's head and straight into the Aura's tree by an invisible hand.

The thief reacted without thinking, kicking his legs out and leaping to his feet in a single, fluid bound. Where he had been not a second earlier, the ground exploded upward in a gout of fire and blasted earth. At the same time, lightning and fire erupted from the skies overhead, streaming down on the Forest of Foretelling like the wrath of a thousand dragons. In instants the surreal landscape was decimated, turned to a volcanic slag-heap by a power greater than any that had intruded on Wanderwillow's domain for a hundred years.

All this Gribly vaguely sensed, but he had no time to dwell on it. The ground heaved under him as more and more spots erupted in crimson explosions. Trees splintered and were tossed in the air like matchwood as apocalypse rained from the sky again and again. Over the thunderous noise came one horrific sound: grim laughter, like the sound of a corpse's merriment.

"No!" screamed Gribly, "Not now! Not when we've blasted won!!"

Instantly his mind grew sharper and his thoughts crystallized as the battle instincts he had acquired over his journey now took control of his body in full force. Both hands punched towards the ground on either side of him, and the heaving turf beneath his feet stilled. His fists swept skyward, and the gra.s.s around him exploded into clouds of green as dirt rocketed to the sky around him, forming a temporary shield against the debris that a.s.saulted him from every side.

Let's see how far this Stone Striding can go, he thought grimly. It's win or die, and I don't even know who my enemy is.

A stream of fire blasted the right side of his makeshift shield into smithereens, but Gribly was already leaping through the opposite side, willing the earth to move aside as he crashed through it.

For the next few seconds, existence was a b.l.o.o.d.y, fiery chaos of burning earth and falling sky. Gribly leaped and twisted, flipped and dodged and wielded the element of Stone as both weapon and shield, until he finally reached Lauro's side amid the broken, smoking remnants of Wanderwillow's tree.

"Lauro, Lauro! Get up!" The prince's body was bent at a horrible angle, and his eyes were closed. His hair had come free of its topknot, and a good portion of it seemed to be burned off. "Blast it, Lauro! Get up NOW!" Gribly screamed, shaking his friend deliriously. "We'll beat this demon together!"

"No," hissed a wicked voice above him, "You won't!" It was the old, gold-faced man, with eyes of red and yellow flame that blinded Gribly with their unholy light. A clawed hand reached for his throat, seized him in an unbreakable grip, and hoisted him high.

"Gh..." he choked, squirming and thrashing as hard as he could. The mysterious villain's eyes burned so hot it scorched Gribly's face. He called on the powers of the earth, striking out at his enemy with his gifts, but all the stones and bark and earth he could summon from around him simply burned into nothingness inches from the golden man's body.

His vision began to fade, and the proportions of his foe's features became distorted and shadowy in his vision. It was then that recognition dawned on him. I know this face! It's the one who chased Traveller in the vision from the book!

"You killed my mother..." Gribly forced out the words, then his vision went black. He felt rushing air and a painful pressure on every part of his body... then nothing.

White light seared his eyeb.a.l.l.s, and suddenly he was jolted into waking again.

Thunder rolled and boomed so loudly his ears were almost overcome. Two voices could dimly be heard roaring back and forth in an ancient and powerful tongue, somewhere in the background. All Gribly could immediately see was a white blur and a gray blur against a dark blur of scarlet and shadow.

As he struggled to lift himself off the ground the blurs began to slowly resolve into shapes he recognized. By the time he had crawled onto his hands and knees, he could make them out.

The whiteness became Elia, crouching over the grayness that became Lauro, as she laid her hands on his head and shook with the sheer effort of the healing she was trying to accomplish. The world around them was muddy, dark and pitted with flame...

A second Nothing, Gribly realized. And any enemy strong enough to make another Nothing out of a land that belonged to one of the Aura... He didn't care to finish the thought. There had to be something he could do.

His senses returned all at once; all in a rush. The noise of thunder had died away, and other than a dry, sulfurous wind that was flapping his clothing and blowing his hair in all directions... there was no more sound. In the deathly silence, the newly tainted land truly resembled the dark place where he had defeated the Sea Demon.

An instant later, the false calm was shattered by a deep voice that rumbled across the new Nothing like the thunder that had been there a moment before.

"BEGONE, ARCHDEMON! RETURN TO THE BLIGHTED PRISON PREPARED FOR YOU BY THE AURA OF THE CREATOR! BEGONE!"

Elia stopped her efforts abruptly, looking up in shock and awe. Gribly spun on his heels to see who had spoken, his confusion swept away by the urgency of the mighty voice. Not more than a hundred feet away, two beings strove against each other atop a great heap of charred trees and burning, quake-stricken earth.

The one who had spoken was Wanderwillow, his robes a brilliant, glowing white, eyes glowing with the same gold-tinged brilliance. He stood stock-still and straight as an arrow, palms out towards his foe in a casual gesture of dismissal, but the veins in his muscled arms and taut jaw bulged with a ferocity that showed the strain of his effort.

The Aura's enemy was the ancient sorcerer from Gribly's past, revealed in all his horrible power. Fire leaped from his eyes and his shining skull burned with the brightness of liquid gold. His black-and-scarlet cloak was in tatters from the attack Gribly hadn't seen... the one, he realized now, that had saved his life. Wanderwillow is risking himself for me! This world he's built is getting destroyed... all because of ME. I have to help him!

For the moment, though, it seemed as if the Aura would need no help. "BEGONE!" he roared again, and the golden man dropped back a step towards the edge of the debris-mound, the fire in his eyes flickering, then dying. So odd was the struggle that Gribly found himself watching with a captivated expression instead of moving to help his new mentor, as he had planned. Besides, some part of himself knew that this was a duel beyond his meager capability to influence in any fashion.

Just as soon as the sorcerer, the archdemon, was beaten back, he seemed to gain new strength from some hidden source. Black smoke poured from his chasm-like eyes, snuffing the dying flames, but growing and growing in volume until they wrapped the old man in a shroud of darkness. He seemed to grow in height, until his bent, ugly form was every inch as tall as his adversary.

"I AM LEGION!" he shrieked, and his words seemed to be cried in a thousand ghastly voices... all at once. Gribly spasmed involuntarily at the revolting sound, slapping his hands over his ears so hard it hurt.

"THE LEGION HAS NO POWER HERE!" replied the Aura, but now his voice seemed lonely and hollow against the appalling force of the archdemon. What is an archdemon? Gribly wondered, cowering as he watched the battle unfold with a morbid curiosity. And what is this Legion? Could there be demons more powerful than the Aura themselves? O Creator, please don't let it be!

Suddenly the archdemon gestured with one hand, and fire leaped up from the ground, engulfing Wanderwillow. The Aura simply stamped once and it died away. If he was surprised, the fiend didn't show it. His right hand shot out from his smoky mantle in a clawed striking motion, and a gust of liquid flame a hundred times as powerful as any Elia had accidentally conjured struck Wanderwillow with all its malicious strength.

But just as he had with Elia, Wanderwillow caught the fire in his hand, willing it smaller and crushing it with his supernatural grip. The flames roared and grew white-hot, but the Aura never let down his guard. It was an eternal river of blazing heat, gushing forth from one hand and being sucked away into oblivion by another.

The deadly contest went on for three seconds... then five. Fire out, fire in. Out. In.

If this is Striding, it's Striding like the world hasn't seen since its founding, Gribly thought, wondering immediately after why that was. I'd almost expected something... more? Better? Deeper? These are the powers of the ancient realms- can't they do more than Stride Fire?

The archdemon's attack ended just as abruptly as it had begun. The last shreds of flame whirled and danced into the palm of Wanderwillow's hand, fading away as he closed his fist over them. Smoke rose in wisps from his clenched fingers, and his shaking hand was glowing with all the heat it had absorbed... but the Aura was the victor.

"You see," Wanderwillow said, clearly but not nearly as loudly as before. "You cannot win. Your gold... your light is tarnished. No more are you Aurum Therestore, the Golden One. Sheolus I name you... and I tell you for the last time: BEGONE! YOU CANNOT WIN!" Confident but exhausted-looking, Wanderwillow took a triumphant step towards his enemy, raising his clenched, glowing fist above his head, ready to unleash all the pent-up energy he had caught and held, Gribly now realized.

Drained of his fiery power, Sheolus, the archdemon, the no-longer-golden one, really had lost his l.u.s.ter. The color of his face was pale and pasty-gray, pitted and spongy as if diseased. The shadows around him had grown deeper and darker, and the sky above was black with storm-clouds that hovered above him... but he was defeated.

"Win..." he laughed in an eerie, shrill tone. Gribly shuddered, the sound of multiple voices from one throat made him want to shove dirt in his ears just to escape the disturbing noise. "Win?" the evil old man repeated, stumbling back as if drunk, "I did not come to win, b.l.o.o.d.y angel..."

Suddenly he stopped stumbling, braced both feet and clapped both hands together with a SMACK that resounded throughout the entire wasteland his coming had created.

Wanderwillow stepped back, unsure of what Sheolus was doing.

A single spark leaped from the old sorcerer's hands towards the Aura, who swung his smoking fist to block it.

The entire slag hill where the two enemies stood ignited in a ma.s.sive explosion that sent a sheet of fire thirty feet into the sky. A concussive quake rippled outwards in all directions as the energy gathered in Wanderwillow's hand was released prematurely.

Gribly swayed, but did not fall, his Stone Striding saw to that, but behind him Elia screamed as the initial swell of the heaving land took her by surprise. "Gribly, help!" she called. Without thinking, he spun around and slammed both palms into the tortured earth, willing it to flatten and become immobile. Shield, he thought frantically, I have to make a shield!

They were an island of calm in the midst of chaos. With less than a second to act, Gribly threw his arms back, Striding swathes of dirt and rock in the same direction. Then he bounded back into a handspring, Striding with his feet as he did. The combined effect was to throw up a roughly spherical shield of solid earth to guard from debris. By the time it had formed over them, Gribly was already crouched on the ground again, fingers dug as deep into the dirt as he could force them. He could only hope his Striding was strong enough to hold the ground steady when the quake hit.

Just like battling the Sea Demon, he thought absently. It seems so long agoa Then the shock-wave smashed into his defenses like a hammer onto a nail. The impact that should have cracked the earth beneath his feet and thrown the three frail heroes skyward was absorbed by his earth-sensitive powers and channeled into his body instead.

"Ga-a-a-a-ah!" He gasped involuntarily as the force of the quake struck his hands and shot up his arms, vibrating his entire body with unthinkable magnitude. His back and neck rippled in a whiplash motion that almost tore his hands from the ground as he tried to stay still. Through the jolt of pain he managed to harden the ground around his fingers, and he stayed on.

One second, and then it was over. The makeshift dome of earth was silent.

Gribly slipped forward awkwardly onto the solid earth, shaking and twitching uncontrollably. Energy bounded about in sweet but sickening waves all through his bones and flesh, tugging at his brain like a restless animal wanting to play, only this animal would tear him apart on the inside if he did not let it out.

With sudden alarm the young prophet understood that he had just gathered the force of an attack into himself, much as Wanderwillow had done to the archdemon's fire!

I've got to let it out, he realized, struggling to stand before the energy ripped itself from him. Elia was still nearby, lying on her side with her head in her hands, moaning and possibly very hurt. He couldn't unleash the restrained energy with Stone Striding here, or she'd be obliterated, along with the still-unconscious Lauro. How did Wanderwillow hold it in??? It's going to kill me if I don't do something NOW!

Bursting through the wall of his earth-sh.e.l.l blindly, Gribly stumbled again and fell to his knees.

"Idiot boy," hissed a too-familiar voice of thousands behind him. A plume of smoke like the one the Pit Strider had used to disappear all those weeks ago burst from the ground, and the sorcerer Sheolus stepped from it, eyes aflame again. "Playing right into my hand!"

"BACK!" Gribly shouted, whirling around on his hands and lashing out at the archdemon with both feet. The absorbed energy surged out of him in a single, violent current as his feet made contact with the sorcerer's face.

Sheolus's jaw cracked as it was displaced, but his head moved not an inch. Rusty-gold colored blood seeped from a small wound at his wrinkled chin, but that was all.

Gribly landed nimbly and sprung backwards in a somersault, despite the sudden exhaustion he felt as the unnatural energy left his body. "Back!" he called again, now hoa.r.s.e and frightened. All that power, and barely a blasted dent! How could he ever hope to fight this h.e.l.lsp.a.w.n?

"You cannot..." chuckled Sheolus, apparently reading his thoughts. One arm lifted slowly until it was perpendicular from his body, then halted. "Give up your soul, prophet!"

My soul?

"Never!" he yelled.

Sheolus closed his outstretched hand, and the ground around Gribly erupted in tentacles of earth that clutched him and threw him savagely to the ground. Struggle as he might, there was no escaping their grip, and he could not move enough to Stone Stride back at the sorcerer.

Blackness rushed in on his vision as the earthy tentacles hardened to stone and squeezed the life out of him. The thief's last thought before consciousness fled him was hoping against hope that Elia would somehow escape before the demon-man was finished with him.

Chapter Seventeen: The Wrong Hero.

"Elia?" Lauro's voice was feeble, but he was alive! The Sea Strider took his face in her hands.

"I'm here, Lauro. You're going to be fine, now that I've-"

"BACK!" shouted an adolescent voice through the crack in the dirt sphere.

"Gribly!" Lauro's eyes snapped open and he tried to rise, but a violent wheeze sent him sprawling on his back again. "You- you have to help him," he grunted, obviously still suffering immensely.

"But you-" Elia began.

"Now." The prince was whispering, but his whisper was an order. She leaped up without another word, twisting around and stepping quickly towards the open crack in the dome's wall. A slithery, malicious voice was speaking words she couldn't hear.

"Never!" yelled Gribly in response. For a single moment she saw him, crouched and ready to fight against the dark-cloaked fiend who stood not three feet in front of Elia with his back turned.

Then the sphere exploded and hard earth rained down upon Elia in heavy chunks. The ground softened like sand, and she felt her feet sinking in- but there was nothing she could do. Stumbling back, she threw up her arms across her body and face, vainly attempting to shield herself from the avalanche; rocks and turf pummeled her again and again until she dropped to the ground in a bloodied heap.

A second later it was over. She raised her head, coughing on dust and filth, hoping against hope that Gribly had somehow won.

No such luck. Her friend was trapped by a mult.i.tude of rocky loops and mounds that had leaped out of the ground like living things. His head lolled to one side against a large arm of stone, and blood dripped down his face. His eyes were closed and there was no breathing that she could see. The dark demon-man stalked towards him... and there was something in his hand.

"No!!!!" Elia screamed at the top of her lungs, striving to get up and attack him with her bare hands if necessary. But searing pain filled her arms and legs, and she realized that they were stuck fast in the hardened ground. "No..." she moaned, tears streaming down her eyes as the hopelessness of her situation dawned on her.

"What are you..." rasped the demon-man, almost to himself, and his red-gold eyes narrowed. His hand reached for her, and across the open s.p.a.ce Elia felt a mental agony so acute she felt sure she would go insane.

Something streaked across her blood-blurred vision: a golden-green that burned her eyes, yet felt more soothing than a healing draft. The pain in her head vanished, and she shook her head to clear it. The sight in front of her was mind-shattering.

Wanderwillow, burnt and blackened, oozing golden blood from every part of his willowy body, had tackled the demon-man, Sheolus, she suddenly recalled, to the ground, and now both were locked in a deadly wrestling match. Lightning discharged from their bodies in a ceaseless concert of blinding flashes, so bright that the rest of the otherworldly wasteland looked dark as night.

CRASH! CRACKLE! CRASH! The bedlam was loud enough to shatter gla.s.s, but her hands were unable to move to cover her ears and stifle the noise. Gasping in pain, she tried to wrench them free from the hardened ground, but they were immovable. Next she tried her legs, with the same result, and found besides that part of her side was stuck as well.