Prologue

The forest was dark and foreboding. The tall, ancient trees rose like huge pillars to blot out the sun and cast a deathly gloom over the forest floor, but the inhabitants of the woods would have it no other way. It was a paradise for the demons that dwelt in the expansive area known as Balmaka, and there was no finer retreat in the entire Universe of Helva. Scores of demons relaxed in the forest as time sped by. Occasionally a squabble would erupt between two rivals over some trivial matter, but such entertainment was usually short-lived. For the most part, the existence of the demons had been boring since the imprisonment of Alutar over a thousand years ago. For a while after the defeat of their master, the demons continued their duties, but the enthusiasm did not last long. Eventually, the majority of the demons accepted a life of leisure rather than traveling between the Universes sowing discord and mayhem. So it was that the demons were unprepared for the destruction of the Universes.

As the Dark One collapsed the Universes, the ground rumbled, and giant trees splintered and fell. Demons were sent sprawling across the forest floor in Balmaka as shouts of confusion ripped through the area. A loud crack split the air as the ground separated, and a long crevice appeared in the forest floor. A geyser of molten lava shot upward, and the demons scrambled away. The ancient trees in the vicinity of the geyser ignited and flames raced upward towards the canopy. The crevice widened, and lava began to flow out of it as large pieces of land sunk into the quickly-forming molten pool. Within minutes the pool of lava spread outward to create a molten lake. The burning trees dropped into the lake and disappeared.

The demons in the forest were stunned by the upheaval as they crowded around the new molten lake and wondered what had just happened. It was obvious to them that something significant had just occurred, but they did not know what was going on, so they looked expectantly as three demons flew into the new clearing and landed near the shoreline of the lake.

“It is the Collapse of the Universes,” announced D'Cavan, one of the new arrivals. “Our Master must be free at last.” A fourth arrival landed as D'Cavan continued, “Soon all of you will have to account for your idleness.”

The new arrival pushed his way through the crowd of demons and stood before D'Cavan.

“Your words are partially true,” stated D'Artim. “The upheaval was the collapse of the seven Universes, but our master is not yet free.”

“How can that be?” questioned D'Cavan.

“Alutar was not in one of the seven collapsed Universes,” explained D'Artim. “Still, there will be an accounting of our wastefulness over the last millennium. I fear our master will not be pleased by our idleness.”

“D'Lycind and I have not been idle,” retorted D'Cavan. “We have been working hard to pit the dwarves and elves against one another.”

“And I have been faithful as well,” added D'Wycaram. “I have been driving away the followers of the gods from their temples in the human world.”

“The deeds of you three have been noted,” declared D'Artim, “but there are many here who will bear the disfavor of Alutar.”

“Who are you to speak with authority?” scowled one of the idle demons.

“I have spoken with the master,” stated D'Artim, “and he is not pleased.”

“Praise Alutar!” shouted one of the idle demons.

“Praise our master!” shouted another, but most of the demons looked worried.

The demons knew that they had forsaken their duties, and while they cherished the return of their master, they also feared his arrival.

“You have spoken to Alutar?” asked D'Cavan. “Why is he not free? What did he say?”

“The Ancient Prophecy has begun,” declared D'Artim. “The Dark One has been anointed, and Alutar has been promised freedom within one year, but our master is not a trusting one. He has ordered me to prepare for his return, and it will take all of our efforts to accomplish what he desires. The time for idleness is over. Those who please me will also please our master. I do not need to remind any of you what happens to those who displease Alutar.”

D'Cavan stared at D'Artim. The demon recognized a push for power when he saw one, and he had a decision to make. He could fight D'Artim for power, or he could support him. Looking around, D'Cavan saw that many of the other demons had similar thoughts. He quickly made up his mind.

“I stand with you, D'Artim,” D'Cavan announced. “Tell me how to please our master.”

“I also am eager to serve faithfully,” declared D'Lycind.

“And I,” agreed D'Wycaram. “Tell us what is required.”

D'Artim smiled thinly as the other demons were forced to accept his rule. The only three who could possibly have raised an objection to his rule had just sworn allegiance.

“If promises are kept,” explained the head demon, “Alutar will be with us in one year, but our master expects to be cheated by the Dark One. As no one can best the Great Demon, Alutar has made alternate plans unknown to the Dark One, but they too are subject to outside interference. What is required of us is to prepare for yet another alternate path for the return of our lord.”

As D'Artim spoke, a black cloud spread through the sky and the sun dimmed until it could no longer be seen. The demons stared upward in confusion.

“There is our lord,” D'Artim announced as he pointed upward. “If his plan works, he will rejoin us here in twenty year's time.”

“And if his plan fails?” asked D'Cavan.

“Then our plan must succeed,” answered D'Artim. “I will need the help of everyone here, and even that will not be enough.”

“Not enough?” frowned D'Wycaram. “What plan could possibly require more than all of the demons?”

“One that brings the entire world to war,” smiled D'Artim. “The screams of misery and despair must issue from a million mouths at the same time.”

“Any one of us could start a war,” D'Lycind said. “There is something that you are not telling us.”

“There is much that I have not explained yet.” D'Artim nodded. “While you might be able to possess a ruler and cause him to attack his neighbor, Alutar is demanding much more from us. We will bring every nation and every race into the coming conflict regardless of who the rulers are.”

“Inconceivable,” objected D'Lycind. “There are not enough of us to accomplish that. Our ways are through deceit and possession, and those ways take a great deal of time. If a ruler is overthrown, we must start over.”

“Or we must utilize creatures who can work more openly,” smiled D'Artim.

“Others cannot be trusted to remain faithful to our lord,” objected D'Wycaram. “They may be coerced by the other side.”

“Unless they are bound to Alutar,” declared D’Artim with a thin smile.

The demons looked blankly at one another, but a deep frown creased the face of D'Cavan.

“Demonkin?” D'Cavan asked with concern. “They are not dependable. They go insane with days of creation. They are nothing more than playthings.”

“These will be dependable,” declared D'Artim. “Alutar has gifted me with the spell needed to create a race of demonkin that will be practically indestructible and yet bound to their duty. These demonkin will infiltrate the human world and spur them into a worldwide war regardless of who the rulers are. They will be able to go places that we cannot and accomplish acts that we can only accomplish through a surrogate.”

“Such as?” asked D'Cavan.

“Such as securing young elf women from the reeducation centers of the Federation,” answered D'Artim.

“Elf women?” asked D'Lycind. “Why elves?”

“It is what the spell requires,” shrugged D'Artim.

“Well,” mused D'Cavan, “we have plenty of time to dwell upon that problem. Twenty years may be like nothing to us, but it is a long time to elves and humans.”

“We have no time at all,” retorted D'Artim. “The plan that I discussed with our master needs to be started immediately. If the Ancient Prophecy unfolds as he suspects, strong nations will evolve on both continents. We need to start putting people in place immediately. We have a new religion to create.”

“A new religion?” questioned D'Wycaram. “What are you talking about?”

“Our demonkin will be priests of this new religion,” explained D'Artim. “It is the religion that will move the people regardless of the rulers.”

“And who will the people worship?” asked D'Cavan. “We cannot have them pray to Alutar, or we will alert our enemies, and we dare not give any of the gods the power that such worship entails.”

“They will worship Alutar,” replied D'Artim, “but he will not be called such. We shall use another name for our lord, and the people will worship him. He shall be known as Balmak in memory of this place.”

“What of Balmaka?” asked D'Lycind. “If the Universes are collapsed, this forest is no longer ours alone. I flew over human cities on my way here.”

“And ogres,” added D'Wycaram. “They are already swarming the woods east of here.”

“That is something we can address immediately,” replied D'Artim. “Ogres are easily swayed, and we can use them to keep the humans out. Let us turn Balmaka into a forest of death that the humans will fear to enter. D'Cavan will accompany me to get our first elven females while the rest of you secure our Forest of Death.”

Chapter 1

Claws of Alutar

Garth Shado and Baron Stikman walked through the corridors of the castle in Herinak, the capital of Korocca. Their discussion was centered on the best use of the Occan lancers during the coming war, but a familiar voice distracted Garth. With a silent hand motion to suspend the conversation, Garth turned and walked out onto one of the balconies overlooking the city. The baron nodded and followed. On the balcony Kalina was discussing magic with Sigfrid, the Royal Sorcerer of Korocca. The two mages were so engrossed in their discussion, that they did not notice the two men entering the balcony.

“I do not think we have the power necessary to fight whatever is in the Forest of Death,” stated Kalina. “That forest is not simply enchanted by a mage. There is a far greater power involved.”

“But that is the only way that we will get troops to the cities of the Federation,” argued Sigfrid. “If we cannot gain passage through the Forest of Death, Occan lancers will not be involved in the coming war.”

“There is truth in that statement,” interjected Baron Stikman. “I have just been discussing that very point with Garth.”

The two mages turned with surprise at having company, but Kalina shook her head.

“The way to the Federation cities is through the Sands of Eternity,” Kalina insisted.

“How?” questioned Sigfrid.

“I do not know,” sighed Kalina, “but I am sure of it. You must trust me on this.”

“Trust her,” stated Garth Shado. “She was told by the Mage that our path must traverse the desert.”

“The Mage?” scoffed Sigfrid. “You seek to win an argument with fairy tales? If the Mage ever did exist, it was so long ago that no one remembers.”

“Need I remind you that fairies do exist?” retorted Kalina.

Garth smiled at his wife's reply and walked to the railing to gaze upon the city below.

“Even if I grant you the thought that the Mage might still exist,” countered Sigfrid, “surely he would not give counsel to the likes of you and me. Such a supreme being would only associate with the world's greatest masters. I am sorry, Kalina, but I cannot advise the king to follow a path based upon such statements as you are offering me.”

Kalina was about to offer a retort to the Royal Sorcerer when she heard the sharp intake of Garth's breath. She turned away from Sigfrid and glanced down towards the city.

“K'san,” spat Garth.

Kalina scanned the crowd in the square below until she spotted the large black priest. Two black-cloaked mages flanked K'san.

“What is the matter?” Baron Stikman asked as he sensed the concern in Garth's voice.

“The tall black man below is a demonkin,” answered Garth.

“And the two men flanking him are mages,” added Kalina. “How did they get here?”

“And what do they want?” mused Garth. “Surely, they cannot expect to find followers of Balmak up here in Korocca.”

“Demonkin?” questioned Sigfrid. “Is such a thing possible? I thought those possessed by demons were nothing more than babbling fools.”

Just then K'san looked up and saw the four people looking down on him. His lips curled upward as he spoke quickly to the men next to him.

“Not these ones,” replied Kalina. “They have been created to further Alutar's desires. Raise some shields!”

The words were barely out of Kalina's mouth when a bolt of lightning smashed down on the balcony. A brilliant flash outlined the transparent shield that Kalina had erected, and Baron Stikman swore as he shielded his eyes against the blinding flare.

“I have a shield up now,” declared Sigfrid. “You can drop yours, Kalina.”

Kalina dropped her shield and sent a fireball at the three mages below. As the fireball impacted, it showed three strong shields surrounding the three men in the square.

“They are well shielded,” frowned Sigfrid. “We will not get through such protection.”

Citizens cried out in alarm as they realized that a magical battle was taking place. People in the square scattered, seeking refuge wherever they could find it. Baron Stikman leaned over the railing and shouted orders to the soldiers below.

“Call them back,” Garth warned the baron. “K'san will not yield to your lances and swords.”

“We shall see about that,” scowled the baron as two riders rode out through the castle gate.

One of the black-cloaked mages saw the horsemen approaching. He unleashed a fireball that blasted one of the riders from his saddle. The other rider managed to close the distance before the mages could react. He lowered his lance and drove it straight into the chest of K'san, but the lance merely splintered. K'san raised his hand towards the charging rider, and man and horse flew sideways into a building.

“No man can withstand a lance hit like that!” Baron Stikman exclaimed.

“K'san is no normal man,” Garth replied. “His skin is akin to rock.”

“They have no physical shields,” Kalina commented calmly. “Their arrogance might be their undoing.”

Three simultaneous bolts of lightning smashed into Sigfrid's shield and Kalina saw the Royal Sorcerer nearly stumble from the strain of the impact.

“Where is Tedi?” asked Garth.

“He went with Natia and the Royal Stablemaster to an Occan ranch outside the city,” answered Kalina. “His staff will be of no use to us today.”

Kalina threw a fireball at K'san and immediately followed it with a lightning bolt. Neither spell had any effect except to jolt the shields of the three mages. Three more lightning bolts slammed into Sigfrid's shield and the Royal Sorcerer dropped to one knee with a grimace.

“We should retreat,” gasped Sigfrid.

“No,” Garth quickly replied. “Kalina take over the shield. Do not waste energy on attacking them, but stay here and keep their attention. Baron, get some archers on the roofs and aim only at the black-cloaks. Do not waste arrows on K'san.”

“What are you doing?” Kalina asked with concern as she took over Sigfrid's shield.

“I am going after K'san,” answered Garth. “Keep him distracted.”

“You will barely scratch him,” warned Kalina.

“A scratch is all I need,” Garth smiled thinly as he patted his quiver of myric quills.

Kalina tried to object, but Garth was already gone. She sighed as three more bolts of lightning slammed into her shield.

“You cannot stay here and distract them,” warned Sigfrid as he rose to his feet. “Another triple bolt will destroy your shields.”

“Regain your strength,” instructed Kalina. “I will be fine, but when Garth gets into position, you will need to take over the shields again. I must aid him when the time comes.”

Baron Stikman alternated between shielding his eyes from the glare and watching the progress of his men. K'san noticed the archers getting into position, and he sent lightning bolts to each of the rooftops. Bodies flew through the air as the archers were destroyed before they could release a single arrow. Baron Stikman cursed as the remaining archers fled from the rooftops.

“Don't think about Garth,” Kalina warned softly as another triple blow impacted her shield. “K'san is trying to read our minds. That is probably how he knew about the archers.”

“You can't be serious?” scoffed the baron.

“Listen to her,” Sigfrid said as another triple bolt hit Kalina's shield without significantly weakening it. “Her power and knowledge is far greater than I thought. We would be dead now if we were depending on my shields alone.” Turning to Kalina respectfully, he continued, “Let me know when to take over the shield.”

Kalina merely nodded as her eyes scanned the streets below for Garth. Another trio of lightning bolts slammed into Kalina's shields before she spotted her husband. Garth slid out the front door of an inn and dashed to the cover of a large tree behind the three mages.

“Now, Sigfrid!” Kalina said anxiously. “Put everything into it.”

Trusting the Koroccan mage to act quickly, Kalina dropped her shield and stretched her arms towards the square below. As three lightning bolts slammed into Sigfrid's shield, two powerful, continuous streams of fireballs soared from Kalina's hands. The magical projectiles blasted the shields around the black-cloaks, but not K'san.

“You are missing the big one,” warned Baron Stikman.

The shields surrounding the Federation mages glowed brightly in the shape of a butterfly as Kalina continued her attack on the black-cloaks. Garth raced forward and swung his sword hard at K'san's back. Expecting the sword to rebound as if it had hit a rock, Garth was surprised when the blade sliced deeply into the priest. K'san cried out in pain, and his shield dissipated. As soon as K'san's shield fell, Kalina's streams of fireballs punched through the remaining shields and struck the black-cloaks. The two lesser mages flew backwards, their bodies burning brightly, as their screams roared through the square. K'san turned slowly to stare at Garth Shado with disbelief. Even though it was obvious that the priest was dying, Garth swung his sword again. The blade easily sliced through K'san's neck, and the priest's head toppled to the ground before his body slowly followed.

“Blessed steed!” remarked Sigfrid. “I have never witnessed such power. Their shields did not weaken at all. You just punched right through them.”

“I thought a sword would not harm that creature?” frowned Baron Stikman as he gazed at the carnage in the square.

Kalina frowned in agreement until she remembered the words of Fakir Aziz. Suddenly, she realized what the second spell was that the Mage had bestowed upon the swords of the Alceans. “Garth carries no ordinary sword,” she declared. “It has been enhanced by the Mage.”

Sigfrid glanced at Kalina with wonder. “I must talk to you about the Mage,” he said reverently. “I suspect that I have much to learn from you.”

“We will discuss much,” Kalina promised, “but now it is imperative to secure this city. Baron, you need to identify all foreigners in Herinak and then discover how those mages managed to get here. Their presence here is disturbing. I will be in Sidney's suite.”

Kalina glanced once more at the square and saw Garth heading for the castle. She turned and left the balcony and headed for Sidney's suite. When she arrived, she found Sidney, Queen Romani, King Myer, and General Skye discussing the patriot movements in their homelands. From the way they casually noted her entrance, Kalina realized that they were unaware of the magical battle that had just taken place outside. She filled a glass with water and sank into a soft chair as the others continued their conversation. A few moments later, Garth entered the suite and sat to clean his sword.

“What happened?” asked Sidney Mercado.

“K'san and two Federation mages showed up in the city,” explained Garth. “It would appear that they are spreading everywhere. We ended their Herinak tour earlier than they would have liked.”

“Their arrival in Herinak was no coincidence,” retorted Kalina. “They were here to kill us.”

Garth looked questioningly at his wife. “How would they even know what we look like?”

“I am not sure,” Kalina admitted, “but I am sure of their purpose. They did not choose to strike just any balcony in the castle. Their spells were aimed at me, even when Sigfrid held the shields. K'san recognized me. I could feel it.”

“That makes no sense.” Garth frowned.

“Unless the K'sans have a herd memory,” mused Kalina. “That thought has been nagging me since the temple attacks in Alcea. They certainly have some method of communications that defy reason. It would explain a lot about them.”

“The K'san I just killed stared at me before he died.” Garth nodded. “His gaze gave me an eerie feeling. I think it is time for us to be moving on. We accomplish nothing by staying here in Herinak.”

“I concur,” Kalina agreed. “We still have not visited Valdo or Despair, and the time for saving the elven children is fast approaching. I would also like to spend some time in the Sands of Eternity.”

“The desert?” questioned Garth. “What on earth for?”

“Something Fakir said to me,” Kalina replied vaguely. “Did you happen to notice the effect of your sword on K'san?”

“How could I not?” replied Garth. “Has the nature of K'sans changed?”

“No,” answered Kalina. “The nature of your sword has changed. It is the Mage's second spell. We need to inform the others. I suspect their blades are likewise enchanted.”

“That is what the fairies are for.” Garth nodded.

“There was a fairy message just a while ago,” interjected Sidney. “King Arik says that he thinks they have found all of the Doors. He asks that we find their counterparts on this continent.”

“That is a tall order.” Garth frowned. “How does he expect us to find a couple of dozen doors in this vast land?”

“He did not say,” replied Sidney, “but he is concerned about the nature and timing of the attacks on Alcea. Perhaps you should view the message yourself.”

The merchant stuck his finger in his pocket and stirred a fairy to life. The tiny woman poked her blue head out of the pocket and beamed when she saw Alexander Tork. She leaped out of the pocket and hovered over the table. When Garth nodded his assent, the fairy cast an image above the table. The image resolved into a view of the library in the Royal Palace in Tagaret. King Arik and Queen Tanya were prominent in the image and a dozen other advisers were also present. The group stood around a table with a map spread over it, and the map had two-dozen coins placed upon it. Garth stared at the map as the king spoke.

“We now know the locations of twenty-four Doors in Alcea,” King Arik said. “I suspect that we have found them all, but that knowledge by itself is insufficient to develop a proper defense. If we assume that all Doors will be used simultaneously, a quarter of a million men will be streaming into Alcea around our four most important cities. With foreknowledge of the attacks, we might inflict heavy losses on the enemy, but we will be spread too thin to win. Worse, they might send all of their men to one city at a time. If that happens, Alcea is surely lost. It is imperative that you locate the Doors on your end. By doing so, you can keep us informed of troop movements and how they are planning to assemble for the attack. We need as much information as you can provide to help us survive this coming storm.”

“Also,” Queen Tanya interjected, “if they all do attack one city, destroying the Doors after they come here will prohibit them from going back to use other Doors to get to another of our cities.”

“Right,” agreed King Arik. “That will leave them fighting on our side of the portals and they will not have the supplies they need to survive. Find those Doors, Alex.”

The vision winked out and Garth frowned in concentration.

“Alex?” asked General Skye. “Who is Alex?”

“I am,” answered Garth. “Our real names are Alexander and Jenneva Tork. As our names were well known to the forces of Balmak, we have traveled under assumed names. Garth and Kalina are merely the names we are using at the moment.”

“Why don't they just destroy some of the Doors?” asked Sidney. “Wouldn't that limit the number of troops they have to fight?”

“It would,” Garth nodded, “but it presents other problems. As soon as the Alceans destroy a single Door, the Federation will know that we are aware of the portals. I think that secrecy of the Doors is the only thing forestalling a full attack on the horse countries. We cannot afford that. If the Federation conquers Zarocca and Korocca, there will be no attack on this continent to destroy the Federation's home base.”

“It will also prompt the Federation to send more Doors to Alcea,” added Kalina, “and our people will not know the locations of the new ones.”

“What about moving some of them?” asked Natia.

Everyone turned to see that Tedi and Natia had entered the room.

“We need to pay better attention to our own security,” scowled Garth. “We are getting lax.”

“What do you mean, Natia?” Kalina asked the gypsy princess.

“When the gypsies move and set up a new camp,” explained Natia, “it is hardly apparent that the campsite has moved. With the exception of the location of some trees, the encampment often looks identical to the one we just left. Why can't we choose where we want the Doors to be and then recreate the look and feel of the original location?”

Garth nodded silently for a moment before speaking. “That suggestion has merit. It would take a good deal of preparation to make the locations appear the same, but it could be done.”

“Where would they move the Doors to?” asked Tedi.

“I do not know,” answered Garth, “but any movement would disorient the enemy and give us an advantage. If their plan calls for coordinating the various armies, which I am sure it will, the enemy will be in disarray.”

“It could even be worse than that,” interjected Kalina. “Imagine if some of the Doors were moved to the island of Grakus. The enemy would have no means of reaching the mainland.”

“Which makes it more imperative for us to find the Doors on this continent,” stated Garth. “Those on Grakus would turn around and come back here only to use a different Door. We need to be able to make sure that they cannot return.”

“We should send word of this discussion to Arik,” suggested Kalina. “They are best equipped to determine where they want the Doors to be.”

“The fairy will carry our conversation to the king.” Garth nodded. “I will also send a message regarding our progress. We should also get a message to Clint. He might be able to find out where the Doors are in Zara.”

“Where do we go next?” asked Tedi.

“To Valdo,” answered Garth. “We need to see the rest of the Federation strongholds before the attacks begin.”

“Tedi and Natia can go alone to Valdo,” suggested Kalina. “I need some more time here before we join them. There are things I must discuss with Sigfrid, and I want to see whatever maps they may have of Sirocca before it became buried under the Sands of Eternity. Fakir led me to believe that something important lies beneath the sands.”

* * * *

Deep in the Forest of Death four demons stood watching as a K'san's face clouded with pain. Although the demonkin said nothing, D'Artim watched with concern. The demonkin groaned softly and dropped to his knees.

“What is wrong with him?” asked D'Lycind.

“Quiet,” reprimanded D'Artim. “We will know soon enough. Observe and learn.”

The demonkin's hands went to his neck, and the creature bared his teeth in rage. The fit lasted only a moment, and the demonkin stood as if nothing had happened. The demons waited for a report from K'san, but the creature offered no explanation.

“Speak,” commanded D'Artim as he grew impatient. “What causes you pain?”

“One of my kin has been defeated,” K'san replied. “A sword that is more than a sword has removed his head.”

“Another?” groused D'Wycaram as he glared at D'Artim. “Over half of your invincible demonkin have been defeated. Not one of the Mage’s heroes has been killed.”

“Continue with your report,” D'Artim demanded of the demonkin, ignoring the complaint from his fellow demon.

“One of us was sent to Herinak,” replied K'san. “He was to destroy the Alcean mage. Care was taken to avoid the one with the staff, but it did not matter. He was struck down from behind with a sword.”

D'Artim spat a glob of acidic spittle at the demonkin and waved at him in a dismissive manner. K'san turned and walked away.

“They are worthless,” D'Lycind said with scorn.

“They are not worthless,” argued D'Artim. “They are just not being used properly. What fool sent a K'san to Herinak?”

“I did,” confessed D'Cavan. “Why was it foolish? The Alcean mage is powerful. She must be destroyed.”

“K'san is well known to the Alceans,” explained D'Artim. “How easily do you think he fit in among the Occans? One glance at him and I bet they had their shields already erected. The K'sans must be used as they were intended to be used. They are to control the populace and prepare the masses for war. They must not be wasted on the Knights of Alcea.”

“Killing the Knights of Alcea would do more to ensure victory than any other action,” argued D'Cavan.

“Do not confuse our victory with that of the Federation,” scowled D'Artim. “I do not care who wins their petty war. Our goal is only the restoration of Alutar. I care not for the goals of others.”

“The war is needed for the tears of millions,” D'Lycind reminded the other demon. “Besides, the death of a Knight of Alcea would be some repayment for the condition of our master.”

The head demon stood silently for a moment and then reluctantly nodded in agreement. “There is a debt to be paid by the Knights of Alcea,” he declared, “but it cannot be obtained with the likes of K'san. Besides, K’san is not ours to use. They belong to another. Something greater than K’san is needed to collect on the debt owed to us by the Knights of Alcea.”

Without explanation, D'Artim turned and walked away. The other three demons followed silently, and the group ended up on the shore of the lava lake. As the other watched from a distance, D'Artim fell to his knees at the edge of the lava. He bowed his head reverently, and the lava began to boil violently. The turmoil increased to a furious tempo and then the lava parted in the center of the lake. Slowly a black mass began to emerge from the lava, and the other three demons swiftly dropped to their knees.

The massive black object rose upward, lava flowing off its skin like rain flowing off a statue. Within moments the upper half of Alutar rose to the surface of the lava lake, and the other three demons gave vocal vows of reverence. D'Artim ignored them. For several long minutes, D'Artim knelt, staring wordlessly at his master. Without warning, Alutar slowly sunk back under the lava, and eventually the troubled surface of the lake calmed. D'Artim rose to his clawed feet and bowed reverently. He turned to face the other demons.

“Was that real?” asked D'Cavan.

“Why you?” asked D'Wycaram.

“You should not need to ask about the realness of our master,” scowled the head demon. “As for why I have been chosen, the answer is simple. While you three are favored for your continued diligence to his principles, I alone spent the last thousand years trying to free Alutar from his imprisonment.”

“Did he speak to you?” asked D'Lycind.

“He did,” D'Artim grinned. “Our plea has been heard. We are to obtain four elven women to create a new breed of demonkin. Each of us shall spawn a creature to track down and kill the Knights of Alcea.”

“What will be special about them?” asked D'Cavan.

“Each will be unique,” explained D'Artim, “and they will be much more powerful and intelligent than the K'sans. They are to be known as the Claws of Alutar.”

“This is exciting,” grinned D'Cavan. “I shall send for the women immediately.”