"Would he continue south without you? Does he seek something else there?" Trigorah pressed.

"I don't think so. He was only going there so that he wouldn't have to worry about me when he tried to end the war," Ivy explained.

"How does he intend to do this?" Trigorah asked.

" . . . I don't know. But he is going to do it. He's amazing," Ivy nearly gushed.

Trigorah suppressed a wave of anger at the hero worship.

"Do you suppose that he will realize you are gone?" she asked.

"Of course!" Ivy said.

"And he will come for you?" Trigorah said.

Ivy nodded vigorously.

"And the shape shifter?" continued the general.

"Um . . . yes," came the answer, dejectedly. "She won't leave Lain alone."

Ivy looked to and fro before adding in a conspiritorial whisper. "She likes him."

"And Myranda. Is it true that she-" Trigorah began to ask.

"SHE'S NOT DEAD!" Ivy retorted before the accusation was even made. "Everyone says she's dead, but I talked to her. I know she's still alive and Lain knows it too."

This was new. And if it was true it would change things considerably, but something about her defensiveness made Trigorah believe that this was the wishful thinking of a naive mind. Still, it was worth noting.

"Very well. Tell me about Ether. What types of things can she do?" Trigorah interrogated. The others had only the vaguest of details about the mystical creature, and the ability to produce duplicates had never even been considered.

"I don't know. Lots of things. I don't want to talk about her," Ivy objected. "Don't you want to know about me? I can do plenty of things, too!"

"The shape shifter," Trigorah ordered.

Ivy grumbled and crossed her arms.

"No!" she pouted.

"This is not a game, Ivy. Do as I say," Trigorah warned forcefully.

"But . . . fine. She can turn into fire and water and all of that. Also, anything she touches she can turn into, and sometimes it takes a while. She gets tired quick because she overdoes everything, and . . . um, she hates crystals. One of the . . . ." she shuttered. " . . . teachers, shoved a crystal into her chest and she would have died if I didn't save her. What I did was . . . "

"We will discuss you later. First finish about Ether. Do crystals always work? Does she have a defense against them?" Trigorah said, refocusing the purposefully wandering mind of Ivy.

She grumbled again.

"No. I don't think so . . . wait. Yes. She turned into one of the silver crawling things that had a crystal right on its head and it didn't bother her at all. So, uh . . . " Ivy began.

"If she takes the form of a creature immune to that attack, she inherits the immunity as well," Trigorah deduced.

"Yes . . . I guess. Are we done with her?" the creature nearly pleaded.

"Very well. What would you have me know?" Trigorah relented. This was the most surreal interrogation she'd ever performed. In the alley it was like trying to juggle a tinderbox and a torch, and now it was like humoring a child that was starved for attention. She was beginning to wonder how much of the information she pulled from this damaged mind could be trusted.

"Well, I can play music, and I can dance, and I can sing too. Do you want to hear?" Ivy babbled.

"Now is not the time for that. Where did you learn such things?" Trigorah asked. Certainly it hadn't been a part of the education they had given her during her development.

"I don't know how I know, I just know. And I am very good. Watch!" Ivy said, pulling the box from the floor suddenly and beginning to open it.

Before the latches could be undone, Trigorah's sword was at the ready.

"Stay your hands," she warned.

Ivy flinched, startled.

"Hey! I was just going to play the violin for you!" she scolded.

"Creature, as long as you are cooperative I will permit you to behave as you wish, but do not forget that you are my prisoner. Trust is acceptable, but obedience is mandatory. I am not your friend. I am your captor," Trigorah growled, her blade's point held a whisper away from Ivy's throat.

"You wouldn't hurt me," Ivy said with dismissal.

"I will do what I must to achieve my ends. Consider this your last warning," Trigorah said with finality.

The general was accustomed to loyalty, obedience, and fear. She would NOT be dismissed.

"But we are supposed to be friends. Don't you feel it too? You and I are supposed to help each other," Ivy said, confused by the threatening action.

"No. You only believe that because of something that was done to you while you were being created," Trigorah seethed. Her logic screamed for her to stop, to weather this behavior. She could not bring herself to head the warnings.

"Oh, what do you know? I mean, look at that ugly thing on your arm. Who would wear that?" Ivy said, in the same infuriating tone, pointing to the outstretched arm that held the sword.

Trigorah looked to the bulge under her sleeve that Ivy had indicated.

"You will not mock my band," Trigorah said, pulling back the sleeve to reveal a gold band engraved with runes clasped tightly about her upper arm. "This band was presented to me before I swore allegiance to the four Generals. It represents my honored position at the head of the great army of this great land. The day I remove it is the day I forsake my superiors and forsake my kingdom. It has not left my skin since the day it was given."

Ivy twisted her head to try to get a better look at the runes.

"To quench the flames and dim the light? What does that mean?" Ivy asked, perplexed.

"What foolishness are you saying?" Trigorah hissed.

"That's what it says. There are other runes after it but that is what the little ones say. You mean you didn't . . . " Ivy began to explain, but suddenly she seemed distracted.

The creature sniffed at the air, concern quickly turning to fear.

"He's here," she said, terror beginning to spill off of her again.

Trigorah turned to the door. A sudden thunderous blow buckled the hinges. A second splintered them free. As the ruined tatters of door collapsed into the room, the hulking form of Epidime stepped inside. Ivy cowered behind Trigorah, who slowly sheathed her weapon.

"What are you doing?! He will kill us!" she shrieked.

"You have made a number of very influential individuals very upset, Teloran," Epidime scolded with his characteristic coolness.

"I have also captured one of the Chosen, something those same individuals could not do. I think that deserves some consideration," she countered.

"Ah yes. Ivy, as they call her. Demont's pet project. Tell me, how is it you managed to keep from lighting her short fuse for so long?" Epidime asked.

"Never mind that. It is quite likely that the others are coming, and I do not think it wise to face them here," Trigorah said.

"Why are you talking to him?! He is evil! We have to go!" Ivy said.

"Why . . . does this little beast trust you? That is a remarkable feat, General," Epidime admitted.

"Are you listening to me? We need to get to a more defensible position," Trigorah said.

Epidime still gazed at the trembling figure of Ivy.

"You didn't strike me as though you were in any hurry to leave before my arrival. Besides, I doubt we will find a position more defensible than the city," Epidime said.

"Up until your arrival I had handled the situation with at least some semblance of tact. We might have escaped notice. And this isn't a fort, Epidime, there are civilians here," Trigorah protested.

"Collateral damage is a part of war," he replied.

Trigorah held firm. "You've seen what they can do. The entire city may be destroyed."

"Acceptable losses," came the logical reply.

"Acceptable? Hundreds of people would lose their lives for two? We are supposed to protect these people!" the general urged.

"An end best served by removing this threat to their freedom. Interesting that you are so eager to seek higher ground the moment I arrive. One might almost suppose you have other motives. A less understanding superior might even suspect insubordination. However, that cowering little prototype behind you has earned you the benefit of a doubt or two. Permit me to subdue our present prize. Afterward I will even allow you to tell me what you have learned, rather than simply taking it from you," Epidime said.

"What? No! NO!" Ivy cried.

She tried to run, but with her mind still set on suppressing her emotions lest she ruin this place, she wasn't fast enough. The gem in the blade of his weapon was brought to bear on her head. A bright, intense flash of light and crack of energy surged forth. A moment later, Ivy dropped to the ground, forced into a deep and unwilling sleep.

Not far to the south, Ether released an ear splitting cry of pain. She dropped swiftly to the ground, crying out and clawing at the mark on her head. Far behind, Lain watched the spectacle. For the last few hours Ether had been leading him like a signal beacon, tracking Ivy through some arcane means, but a gust of wind had brought a trace of her scent to him, and Ether would no longer be necessary. The smell was mingled with others. Hundreds of people. She was in a town. If his sense of direction had not failed him, this was a place called Fallbrook. Two scents a.s.serted themselves above the others. The first was the one that had been missing further south. Trigorah. The other was that of a man he had known as Arden, one he now knew to be General Epidime. Two Generals. The situation smacked of ambush, but there was nothing to be done. For a few moments more he watched the sky ahead. The dawn was throwing a pale gold against the clouds. If indeed the Generals were prepared for him, darkness and the shape shifter would be welcome if not indispensable allies. For the moment, it seemed he had neither. The one piece of luck had been the proximity of this place. Ivy must have been trying to find them to have come this far.

Any hint of cover was left behind long ago. Lain was sprinting across open field. His trained mind cataloged dozens of mistakes he was making. From the deep, distinct footprints he was leaving to the proximity of a well traveled road, he was keenly aware of his carelessness, but time afforded nothing more. His eyes focused on the town ahead, mapping out entrances and exits. Bringing to mind what he remembered of the rooftops and back alleys. Formulating what little of a plan he could. Working out where troops might be hidden, where they might gather and how to evade them. Determining where she would be. No time could be wasted searching. If this was indeed an ambush he would have to know precisely where she was even before he reached the fringes of the city.

After a short distance he found the smoldering form of Ether. She was standing, trying to regain her composure. The state she was in was almost beyond description. It seemed as though she was caught halfway between her stone and flame forms. Veins of fire swept slowly across a black stone body, glowing white hot and flaring every few moments. As she heard his approach she turned to him. Her eyes, glowing like two embers, showed a mixture of fear, desperation, and anger. The sight of him was enough to spur her back into the air, the flame finally regaining its full force.

Ether's cry had not escaped the notice of the Generals. Indeed, every eye in the city was turned to its source. The once nearly empty streets of the place were now peppered with the residents that the war had spared. Whispers pa.s.sed quickly through the crowd. Tales had been told of a monster or demon that had sp.a.w.ned chaos in another town not long ago. It had a.s.saulted one of the King's men. Was this that beast? Trigorah and Epidime reached the street a step behind the last patron of the tavern.

"And you are certain that there are only two coming for her?" Epidime said thoughtfully, unphased by the growing unrest around him.

"The shape shifter and the a.s.sa.s.sin," Trigorah said. "A force that I hesitate to face without any reinforcements."

"There will be reinforcements. For the time being we shall offer up some fodder," Epidime said.

The imposing warrior forced his way through the roiling crowd to the center of the street.

"Attention! The creatures that approach are enemies of the Northern Alliance. You are hereby drafted into the great Alliance Army. Defend this building with your lives!" he barked.

Fear and doubt turned instantly to pure chaos. Some searched madly for something to arm themselves with. Most ran in panicked mobs seeking some form of shelter to hide from the carnage that was sure to rain down.

"Are you mad? These people won't last more than a moment against them!" Trigorah protested.

"A moment is all that is required," Epidime stated.

With that the General disappeared inside the tavern. Trigorah's eyes drew skyward. The air was scorching with the heat thrown off by the form that hung in the air just over the street. The burning white slits that served as eyes for the shape shifter came to rest firmly on Trigorah. Pitchforks, random debris, and anything else that the maddened crowd could find were hurled fruitlessly at the powerful being. They merely pa.s.sed through her form, momentarily disturbing it and taking to flame.

"You. Elf. Bring the malthrope here or perish," came Ether's command.

Trigorah held her tongue, instead raising her sword.

"So be it," Ether thundered.

In the blink of an eye the fiery form launched itself earthward. The impact threw back the throng that had gathered beneath her. The light from the flames faded and the shape shifter was hidden from sight by the mob. Trigorah issued swift orders to stand aside, but these were no soldiers. No heed was paid as half of the crowd climbed over themselves to get a taste of combat and the other half scrambled to escape. Hammering footsteps rang out even over the roar of the crowd. The now stone form of Ether charged effortlessly through them, those who would stop her tossed aside like dried leaves.

Trigorah's weapon was expertly placed to block the attack, but the force was like that of a charging bull. Ether heaved a backhand, knocking the blade aside. She gripped the warrior by each arm, pinning them to her body and hoisting her in the air. Helpless, Trigorah was slammed against the wall of the tavern, the wind knocked from her lungs.

"REVEAL HER!" Ether demanded.

The wake Ether had left behind her slowly filled in again as the townsfolk flooded toward her. A hundred hands grasped at her, trying to pry her grip on their beloved General free. Their combined strength barely gave the elemental pause. With another powerful thrust against the wall Ether repeated her demand.

"REVEAL HER!" she cried.

"You shall never have her," Trigorah replied weakly, gasping for breath.

With a cry of frustration, Ether turned, hurling Trigorah into the crowd. The swiftness of the motion scattered the other attackers.

"Careful, shape shifter, I have use for her yet," came the voice of Epidime from above.

Ether's eyes shot to the roof of the tavern, where Epidime stood smugly.

"And I suspect you still have use for this little creature," he said, holding forth a sinewy arm and dangling the limp form of Ivy off the edge by her wrist.

As his fist tightened around the unconscious creature's wrist, the mark on Ether's head flared. She dropped to her knees. The crowd swarmed over her. Epidime smiled, heaving Ivy's form back onto the roof. He turned, holding his halberd high. A narrow ribbon of white blue light tore upward. Below, Trigorah was helped to her feet and rushed quickly to the writhing ma.s.s of crowd. Whatever had stopped Ether in her tracks would not last long. She had to take full advantage.

"Stand aside! Quickly!" she ordered, pulling people away.

Reluctantly the frenzied crowd began to spread out. Suddenly there was a brief, sharp burst of wind from inside the center of the tangle of humanity. When the crowd had finally parted completely, Ether was gone. The General gripped her weapon tightly. She'd escaped, taken the form of wind. There was no telling where she was, or even if she was still near.