Cassandra

XIX. Cassandra Briarwood

Lady Briarwood stepped into the room first. The stone door lifted up into the ceiling, and when Delilah appeared, she had never looked so beautiful. Her entrance was an instant, chilling, reaffirmation of everything I had resolved to do in my effort to protect her. Silas entered behind her, his presence so commanding, the room seemed too small to fit him. The force of his personality was a smothering blanket over the vigor of mine, and I felt myself shrink as soon as he entered, absorbed by the ideals he had long imposed on me and that governed every choice I made.
    "Oh," Vex'ahlia said, the first of my brother's friends to notice the Briarwood's entrance amid the chaos, and she laughed spitefully. "Is this your room? I didn't even realize we were in your house right now! How good to see you again darling."
    It was an unnerving thing, seeing an image of myself, however separate from me, speak with such hostility. The sight prompted a strange sense of guilt, even though I knew it wasn't really me.
    "And hello to you too. Welcome to all of you." Silas said tolerantly to the the sour half elf, coiling a supportive arm around his wife's shoulders as he turned to look at her. "Well, my dear?"
    "I was hoping for a more formal reunion." Delilah said with a smile that had no warmth. "But you insisted on riling up the populous, and tying up the bulk of our forces. Rather unfortunate really--"
    Before she could finish speaking, Vax'ildan gathered the thick material of his cloak around his body, and blinked out of sight. With a flash he reappeared in the empty hallway behind Silas and Delilah, just outside the bronze room. As he reappeared he slammed his hand against the wall, where I could now see there was a flat stone placard against the wall. The stone moved when he put his hand on it, and once again I heard the shift and grind of unseen machinery.
    "Well I wasn't expecting you to want to see your friends dissolved quite so quickly." Silas said with a laugh "However...it doesn't hurt to have friends..." I could see the transformation, the moment of truth when Silas's eyes met Vax's. It was so simple, so easy, the work of a moment. The half elf's aggression and hostility melted away, replaced by contrition, and a trust as unshakable as my own.
    "Thankfully, we were ahead on our Residuum productions," Silas continued smoothly as he turned back to the unfortunates still caught in the trap. The whole transformation had taken only moments, costing him no almost no effort. "A few minor modifications to our distillery room made an excellent trap for you."
Metal tubes, one on either side of the room, slid out of the wall, still empty but threatening. Percy drawing one of his pistols, shot into one of the tubes, and enchanted ice from the shot formed inside the pipe, blocking its flow. With a gurgling splash, familiar greenish gray acid began to pour out of the unblocked pipe. A sharp biting smell began to fill the room, as more acid continued to pour at a frightening rate into the trap, spreading slowly across the floor. The feeling of barely contained panic rose in my chest, bringing tears to my eyes, and when I looked at Vax standing next to Silas, I could read a similar look of conflicted terror on his face. Both of us were torn.
    "A bit unceremonious, but I'm not in the mood to break a sweat today." Delilah said with a hint of feminine vindictive triumph over her enemy. Turning to Silas, as if utterly careless of what happened now, she said "we're still weeks off from being ready, and I still have much work today."
    Vex'ahlia hurriedly drawing a potion from some hidden pouch in her clothing, drank the vial, and dropped the bottle in the acid. The bottle melted, its form sagging, until the acid destroyed it completely. For a moment it looked as if the potion had done nothing, then as its effects settled over her, the half elf woman began to float upward in the air, seemingly weightless, and she pulled her feet out of the acid. The sound of a second enchanted gunshot, this one failing to clog the other pipe, instantly recalled my brother to my mind. It brought me out of my frozen panic, and I leapt across the room, putting my hands against the glass. Desperately I tried to find my brother amid the several copies of him, but in the confusion I couldn't place him.
    "Which one is my Percy?" I demanded, pressing up against the glass.
    One of the several detached itself from the others, coming up to the other side of the glass. He was smiling, pointedly unconcerned with the dire circumstance, and his total oblivion made me smile. Truly, my brother had been trained well. The world could have been falling about his ears, and yet he would have looked on with utter unconcern.
    "Its alright, we'll see you soon." My brother said gently, his hand aligning with mine on the other side of the glass, and he nodded reassuringly. "We're going to be fine. Go."
    "Percy..." I faltered, wishing I could cut out my own tongue instead of say this. But he was my brother. He deserved the truth at least. "Your sister left us the day those arrows found my chest. She did not die from those wounds, but to watch you leave me there in the snow...I had no family..." Percy bowed his head, and for a moment the words caught in my throat. But I forced the confession out. "I am a Briarwood, and I have a destiny with the Whispered One..." Percy only nodded. And for one moment, as he bowed his head, my brother looked old. He was ancient, bowed under an intolerable weight, and I drew back, aghast at the ruin I glimpsed behind his mask.
    "Don't worry my dear." A warm hand touched my shoulder, as Delilah's voice murmured comfortingly in my ear, and she gently drew me away from the glass. "It'll be over soon."
    Shivering I yielded to her touch, and Percy, head still bowed, drew his hands away from the green wall that stood between us. We were becoming separated from each other by more than just a wall. As the Briarwoods turned away, Vex'ahlia drew a black arrow from her quiver, and savagely shot it at the green wall, hardly making an effort to aim. The arrow exploded upon contact with the glass, sending a shudder through the room, as we stepped out of the chamber. Looking regretfully back at his sister, Vax followed Silas and Delilah out of the room, half lingering as if he wanted to stay. Then the stone door slid back into place, and we were alone.
    "Well, at last thats over with." Delilah said, breathing out a sigh of relief.
    Silas disengaged a torch from its bracket in the wall, and giving Lady Briarwood his arm, led the way forward with the light. This was all entirely new territory. I had never seen any of this tunnel before, and as we walked forward, I stealthily observed the passage around me. It was carved through the earth, no longer descending, but continuing straight and perfectly level, reinforced with blocks of whitestone masonry. We very swiftly continued forward, the Lord and Lady obviously traveling a stretch of passage they had many times traversed. As we walked forward, the half elf Vax kept glancing down at his hand, where a holy symbol had been stitched into the back of his glove. It looked like the same star shaped token that Pike had hanging around her neck, and for what ever reason this rayed star absorbed his attention.
    Ahead of us, the passage came to an end, as the tunnel widened out into blackness. Next to me I felt Vax shudder, as he stopped in his tracks, and glanced over his shoulder. I took another hesitating step forward, but the half elf didn't follow, and I glanced fearfully at Silas and Delilah, hissing "what are you doing? We should keep going, or they'll be angry." Vax waved me into silence, one hand lingering at his ear. For a moment I thought he was going to go running back the way he had come, back to his sister, and I genuinely considered going with him if he did.
    "Keep up please," Silas commanded sternly, startling us both. "There's work to be done."
    Obediently we followed, Vax once again absorbed by the holy symbol in his glove, and after casting a disapproving look in our direction, Silas stepped out into the darkness. It was a truly overwhelming chamber, so large our one torch couldn't possibly pierce the shadows. The walls overhead and on either side of our party vanished into blackness, but even though it was still blindly dark, our torch was no longer the only source of light.
    Towering overhead in the distance, like a tiny man made mountain, was a hulking stone structure. It was pyramid shaped, but shelved, like giant stone steps, ascending up to a narrow top. The structure at first was made of whitestone that reflected the light in the room with a ghostly white glimmer, but as it continued to ascend, the white was replaced by a greenish color, until at its summit the entire temple was made of this green material. Even from a distance I recognized the strange greenish color. It was Residuum. But unlike the other glass shards I had seen, this Residuum had a weird unholy greenish glow around it, that illuminated nothing, giving no light or warmth. This could only be one thing. Here at last, was the Ziggurat itself.
    As we continued across the black expanse toward this ghostly temple floating in the darkness, I found didn't want to get close to it. A black chill settled over me, as we drew near, and as the blackness over my mind grew, so did the Ziggurat, until it filled all my vision. Then my eyes shrank away, seeking refuge in the dirt floor at my feet.I found myself hunching my shoulders as we walked, as if the Ziggurat's presence were physically pushing against my body, the force of it beat against us as we walked, like an invisible wind.
    Now at last Lady Briarwood was beginning to take the lead, stepping in front of her husband, as we began to laboriously climb toward the top of the Ziggurat. Here it was Delilah who was more sure of herself. She might submit to her husband in everything else, but I could see that here, in this one place, she was the one who took control.
    A steep line of steps had been carved into the Ziggurat, spanning across each giant shelf of carved masonry. It became more difficult to climb as the whitestone slowly gave way to Residuum. The supplementary material was much more slick than the stone was, and occasionally I slipped slightly despite my extra care. Continuously we climbed, and the steps seemed to go on forever, always one after the other without end. But at last the steep assent came to an end, and we reached the top of the stairs, high above the ground beneath us.
    The Ziggurat ended in a flattened top, and a square structure rose in the middle of the summit. A broad footpath skirted the top of the Ziggurat, that was partially shaded by an overhang supported on wide pillars. Underneath this roof, two wide double doors were set into the outer wall of the central structure. Weird symbols, drawn from some dreadful language I had never seen before, were carved around the door, along the edge of the building's overhang, and around the top and bottom of every supportive pillar.
    "I think something is about to happen..." Vax'ildan's voice caught my attention. He was muttering softly, almost to himself, one hand at the side of his jaw, as if he were whispering secretively to himself. It was very strange behavior, and I watched him, staying on guard. "I'm afraid to ask questions though," he murmured humbly, looking out over the edge of the Ziggurat into the blind darkness that surrounded us. "I don't want to--"
    "Who are you talking to lovely boy?" Delilah asked sharply, suddenly noticing the half elf's furtive whispering.
    "Oh," Vax said, jumping and holding out his hand with the holy symbol on it. "Sarenrae."
    Lady Briarwood's face darkened as she looked down at the symbol. "That's not very welcome here, I would not recommend that." She said, her face and tone both cold and forbidding. "Put it away."
    "Yes." The half elf hurriedly put his hands behind his back, in order to cover up the symbol Delilah found so offensive.
    "Cassandra." Lady Briarwood said, calling my attention to her face, and I instantly became alert. "Come here."
    Moving as swiftly as I could, I crossed the top of the Ziggurat, and joined her in front of the double doors.
    "You remember what I told you about the power of sacrifices?"
    "The sacrifice mirrors the gift..." I repeated with meek obedience.
    "Thats right. The greater the sacrifice, the greater the gift. And I know that sometimes it's a hard sacrifice to make. " Delilah said, smiling sadly. She reached out to take my hand, running her fingers over the palm affectionately. "I must admit, I've become very fond of you my dear. It is not easy for me to ask something so difficult of you. But we are working to achieve a gift of power unlike anything ever bestowed before, and such a boon will require unimaginable sacrifices in return. A gift given willingly has far more value than one that is forcibly taken."
    "If you ask it," I murmured submissively, "I will give whatever you wish of me."
    "Thank you my dear." Delilah said. "Such a sacrifice will not go unheeded. There will be great power given in return."
Lady Briarwood crossed the top of the Ziggurat and stopped in front of the large double doors. She quietly drew out a small key, that fitted into the door, and turned it. Both doors with a gentle push, swung inward, revealing an open inner courtyard behind the walls. The building in front of us was open to the sky from the inside, wide and completely empty. Only one wide platform, carved in the outline of a hand, rose out of the ground in the center of the room, and on this hand was the dark orb. It looked darker here, and more threatening than it had been when I had seen it on the eastern tower, like a bead of physical darkness resting on the ground. The walls were covered by a thick sheet of ice, and dark black ice covered the ground, making it slick from the raised hand all the way to the walls. But it wasn't dark ice. It was blood, gallons of it, frozen over the ground in a sheet. As we entered I realized that I could see faces behind the ice covered walls. There were bodies, hundreds of them, frozen into the ice. Fear, and exquisite loathing, clenched in my gut, making me shiver uncontrollably. I finally understood what Delilah meant by 'a better sacrifice.' 'Better blood.' This was hundreds of sacrifices, frozen into the walls and floor. And I was one of them. The sacrifice they wanted would require my blood, and I had already promised to give it, whether I knew what that fully meant or not.
    "Cassandra. Come." Delilah ordered, her authority irresistible, and I obeyed her, stepping further into the room.
    "Silas," a foreign voice interrupted, "a moment of your time."
    It was my brother. I knew him instinctively as soon as I saw him. No more disguises, or magic tricks, this could only be Percy. He had reached the top of the same stairs that we had already climbed, standing feet apart, with his hands behind his back. And even through the darkness around us, I could see that he was smoking, tendrils of dark black vapor curling around his body, flowing out and downwards across the ground. Silas frowned, turning away from the sacrificial chamber, and Delilah, with silent understanding joined him. I shrinkingly followed, and she quietly closed and locked the doors of the chamber.
    "We have debts to settle." Percy declared, remaining unmoving at a distance, hands behind his back.
    "And apparently," Lord Briarwood said, frowning sourly, "you and your friends are obnoxious enough to not stay dead..."
    "They were kind enough to make sure that I made my way here to face you." My brother said, smiling darkly.
    "Well perhaps this evening won't be so boring after all, will it my darling?"
    "Very well." Delilah said, gracefully stretching her fingers, to prepare for spell-casting.
    "The Darkness demands your soul Silas." Percy said, threateningly. Moving suddenly, he drew out something small and round from behind his back, and threw it at Silas's feet. With a spark it exploded, bursting outward in a cloud of dense smoke. Lady Delilah and Vax'ildan both vanished from view, obscured by the smoke, and Lord Briarwood became a dark shadow. My brother's voice shouted indistinctly behind the smoke, and I heard the twang of a bowstring being released. Tearing through the smoke clouds came a hailing rain of arrows, like a thick sheet, that clattered viciously against the stones. Silas screamed and writhed, every arrow impacting with his body with a flash of warm sunlight energy that scorched him, and his skin, undead in it very nature, scorched and crumbled, small parts of his body flaking away into ashes. I slithered backwards, leaping back underneath the overhang, and Vax briefly appeared in my field of vision, his expertise allowing him to sheltered himself as I did.
    "Vex'ahlia," he shouted out into the empty air, looking up in the direction where the magical hail of arrows had come from. "What are you doing?!"
    Growling angrily Delilah pushed away from me on the right, vanishing into the smoke with a flourish of her skirt. I could hear her voice, slightly muffled in the smog, but still potent as she chanted demonically in the blackened foul speech of her spellcasting. Lord Briarwood drew his darkened blade from its sheath, already gathering dark energies to itself, and snarled with his fangs bared ready for a fight. Drawing himself to his full considerable hight, my master also plunged into the smoke on the left, melting away into a vague shadow I could hardly guess through the mist.
    "Percival you've got to stop this!" Vax'ildan shouted, his voice divided between fury and reproach, as he too disappeared into the smoke. "This is madness, this is that spirit of yours!"
    The smoke was already dissipating, and through the thinning screen I saw a huge form come hulking out of the darkness, the looming shadow of what could only be Grog. He came bounding across the top of the Ziggurat, reaching one of the pillars that supported the shade overhead, and he ducked behind it.
    Out of the darkness on the other side I saw a tiny beacon of light, Pike's still glowing magical form, illuminating the top of the Ziggurat with a gentle yellow glow, and banishing the heavy shadows in her immediate vicinity. Even though she was extremely tiny, she was able to move with remarkable speed, and sprinted across the Ziggurat to Vax. He couldn't bring himself to strike her, and I could already see his face yielding to this gentle warm hearted vision. With a smile she reached up to touch his face, her tiny hands pressing against his skin, and he shuddered when she touched him.
    The sound of my brother's voice uttering a cry of pain instantly drew my attention in his direction. He was faced off against Silas, a little shaken and pale, startled by the chilling power of Silas's dark blade. The dreadful weapon had left a deep gash in his shoulder, that was slowly releasing blood into his jacket. Percy had his own blade out, a thin finessed rapier like the ones Mother had trained us with, and he made an effort to stand straight as he sliced across Lord Briarwood twice.
    Silas hardly reacted to these strikes, but unexpectedly Percy reached out his hand with its thick metal glove, and seized his enemy by the face. As soon as my brother touched Lord Briarwood's face, there was a burst of electric energy, that illuminated the darkness with a momentary livid flash, and a sharp crackle of energy. Percy's hand was smoking when he drew it away, all the energy stored in his glove expended, and Silas had an irritated burn mark shaped like my brother's hand scarred across his lower jaw and neck. With that Percy winked, and vanished behind the nearest pillar.
    Once again it was time for Traitor, and I sprinted after my brother and Grog. It was easy to find shelter in the shadows, and I danced around the back of the pillar, completely unnoticed in the chaos. Silas was already there, re-engaged with my brother, despite his attempts to escape from melee combat and rely on his guns. The hulking mountain of Grog, a vast expanse of magically imitated Percy, towered between me and my sibling. He was an impassable wall, and there was nothing to do but apply myself once again to harming him.
    This time I knew better where to strike him. Any attempt to aim at his back I knew would hardly affect him, and as the walking mountain raised his hammer to strike down at Silas, I brought my blade under his arm. I felt it strike at the softer skin under his rib cage, slipping over the tensed core muscles to find a weakness, and I dragged back as hard as I could, following the contours of the ribs back as far as I could before I met flexed hardened muscle.
    Grog roared, enraged, and before I could dance away again he turned and brought down his raised hammer. The full weight of the iron headed maul crushed me almost to the ground, spreading burning pain outward across my shoulder blades, and I felt the hammer's magical flames scorch my skin leaving it raw. Shaken as I was from the first blow, I had no way to dodge the second, and it crushed into my chest taking my breath away. I was pushed up against the wall, and when I regained my feet I stumbled. A stab of pain burned through my chest where one of my ribs had been cracked, my breath would only come in short gasps, and blood tickled the inside of my throat.
    Out of the shadows Keyleth appeared, sprinting along the top of the Ziggurat like Grog had, and she skidded to a stop several feet away swirling her hands together. The dance of her fingers was mesmerizing, and a tiny spark of light flickered between her hands. She blew on it hard, and it rapidly expanded into a beacon of sunlight, so bright it hurt to look at it directly. Then she brought her hands forward. A scorching beam of pure sunlight burst outward from her, sending a line of heat and fire through Lord Briarwood, Grog, and myself.
    My body moved faster than my mind did, and before I knew what I was doing I had dropped onto my stomach, and rolled out of the way, completely avoiding the heat. Grog and Silas weren't so lucky. The half giant let out a roar like an enraged bull, spittle foaming at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes burned with maddened uncontrollable rage, but he took the brunt of the attack. Silas screamed like a tortured animal, chunks of his flesh crumbling into black ash under the sunlight, and he writhed at the sunbeam scorched him.
    "Silas!" Delilah had moved up to the other side of the pillar, leaning against it for support. She had a hand clutched over what was clearly a dagger wound in her stomach, and she looked lividly pale, the veins on the side of her neck and her wrists were black, as if the blood was poisoned.
    Lord Briarwood warned her off with a look, and returned to the offensive, striking at Percy. I could see him blanching in the sunlight, severely weakened and blinded by the light, but he pushed through the irritation and managed to land his blows. With both strikes Lord Briarwood's dreadful sword exuded its dark power, fresh shadows gathering around the blade at each hit.
    Gritting his teeth Percy flourished his rapier, flicking a cut upward across Silas's chest. This time Lord Briarwood didn't shake it off as carelessly, and I could see Silas bleeding from the strike. Concern washed through me as I realized how weak he actually was. His skin was no longer reforming itself, the multitude of burns and cuts were still fresh and irritated. Gathering my courage I ducked past Grog, slithering past a fresh strike he aimed at me, and I plunged into the fray, turning to face my brother.
    My brother. It made me ill just to look at him. Sick with anger and indecision. Thousands of memories bloomed in my mind as soon as I met his eyes, us playing in the garden with the others, reading together, throwing things at each other across the table, trying to trip each other up on the stairs. The bitter pain of it scorched me, remembering how we were then, and seeing how we were now. I hated him.
    But I couldn't hurt him. Desperately I tried, urging myself angrily to punish him for all the foolishness and strife that he had caused, to pay him back for abandoning me. Then I looked up at his face, and his anger contorted into a look of pity. I knew I couldn't strike him. Lord Briarwood's face darkened, pushing me to do it, the eyes that had held complete sway over me for so long were egging me on. But I couldn't bring myself to do it, now that I was faced with him. I couldn't touch a single hair on his head.
    With a harsh clatter I dropped Traitor, and shivered, standing mute and frozen. Percy's eyes stabbed me with accusations, but it was from my own heart that the accusations truly came. I couldn't protect anyone, not even myself. Truly, though I had been calling Percy the fool, it was I that had played the fool all along.
    As I backed away Keyleth leapt forward, her hands still glowing brightly with two beacons of sunlight, and she nimbly jumped onto Lord Briarwood's back. Like a child riding piggyback the slender woman tightly grappled Silas, wrapping her arms and legs around him. A fresh burst of energy exploded from her as she began to sing through gritted teeth "Let the sunshine in! Let the sunshine in..." Light coursed through Silas's form, and he stumbled, more of his skin flaking off in a shower of dust. Even now there was no blood, his form was simply crumbling apart, deep gouges of blackened ash beginning to form in his skin.
    Gathering his much greater strength, Lord Briarwood shook her off, flinging her away from him, and he whirled to bring down his sword on her. The blade sliced deep across her side, forcing a cry of pain from her. Black darkness thickened around the blade, chilling her form even as it struck her, and I could see Keyleth's blood being drawn into the sword, further strengthening it. Keyleth drew away gasping, one hand clutched over her bleeding side, and Silas laughed in her face, preparing to strike again. Even now, with his form blackened and burned, Lord Briarwood showed no sign of fear and still remained quite vigorous. There even seemed to be a fierce sense of pleasure in riding the razor edge of danger.
    "My love we're not ready," Delilah said desperately, the voice of reason in the midst of the battle, and she wound her arms around him from behind, drawing her husband to her. "The time table's been pushed. We have no choice." A flicker of black energy, like a gaping hole into nothingness, jaggedly opened behind them, and Delilah drew her husband back toward this gap.
    "Hua! Thats the sound of a gnome, fuckin' with your spell. Yea-Yeah!!!" Scanlan appeared around one of the pillars, one hand pressed to his heart while he sang at the top of his lungs. The bard blew a kiss toward Delilah, and the door behind her shuddered and collapsed. She snarled angrily, her eyes blazing with fury and desperation.
    Lord and Lady Briarwood met each other's eyes, instant understanding blooming between them in this moment of danger. Silas disengaging from his wife raced toward the stairs of the Ziggurat, covering the ground with frightening speed. Grog brought his hammer down toward Lady Briarwood, but only managed to hit her once, smashing her backwards.
    "Come on!" Scanlan said, planting his feet in the distance, and he raised one hand above his head, half singing, half screaming "BIGBY'S HAAAAAAAAAND!"
    Over his head, a giant purple fist created out of arcane energy, bigger than the gnome's entire body, formed out of the air. It mirrored the movements of the hand he had raised above his head, and balling a fist, the gnome punched out at Lady Briarwood. The giant purple hand mirrored his movement, clenching into a vast magical fist, and it went rocketing toward Lady Briarwood. Drawing herself up to full height, Delilah stood frozen as the fist passed through her harmlessly, the magical energy taking no effect. Purple arcane magic washed over Lady Briarwood and slammed into the pillar behind her, sending a shudder through the entire building, but Delilah herself was completely unharmed.
    In the distance Pike's warmly glowing form appeared out of the darkness, charging at Silas, and she struck at him with her mace, but a gunshot interrupted her before she could lash out again. Percy, eyes blazing, had drawn his pistol from the inside of his coat, and as his anger grew the billows of utterly black smoke around him continued to thicken. The shot pinged loudly against Silas's blade, and it was torn from his grasp, clattering against the green glass floor of the Ziggurat. A second shot hit Silas squarely in the middle of his chest, and as he doubled over clutching the wound, black ash poured through his fingers. Percy was warming to his work, completely absorbed by darkness, until he was a black outlined figure cloaked in shadow and formed out of darkness itself. Another shot plowed into the right side of Delilah Briarwood's face, enchanted flames scorching across her cheek, and she screamed clutching her ear. Dexterously my brother spun his pistol barrels and locked another one onto place, sending another bullet at Delilah. This one sank home into her stomach, and she gasped as shards of magical ice spread outward from the bullet, stabbing into her flesh. Two final shots, following so quick on each other that they were almost one sound, bit into Delilah's shoulder and thigh. Lady Briarwood wavered on the verge of falling, blood trickling at the corner of her mouth, from her nose, her ear, between her fingers clutched over her stomach, her shoulder, the wound in her leg, and she stumbled back against the pillar, leaning against it to maintain her balance.
    I snatched Traitor from the ground, but I had no intention of using it. I was at Delilah's side in a moment, supporting her with unwavering attention on my arm, and I pulled her into my shoulder until I was almost carrying her entire weight. She yielded to me, one arm weakly trailing over my shoulders, and I felt her breath against the side of my neck as she supported her head against my shoulder. Searching desperately I pulled out the healing potion that Percy had given me, and pulled the cork off, gently feeding it to Delilah. Recognizing the potion, she weakly gave in to my direction, and drank the potion. As it went to work I saw the bullet wound across her cheek close, and she supported her own weight once again.
    "Thank you my dear..." She said, giving me a warm smile. I glowed at the words, and if my loyalty had needed any kind of reaffirmation, these simple words gave it to me.
    "What's wrong Silas?" Keyleth's voice rudely broke in on the moment, and I suddenly became aware of our danger again. The half elf had stepped up toward Lord Briarwood, who was shrinking away from the sunlight that illuminated her hands, and as I glanced at him I realized with a thrill of fear how weakened he truly was. "Afraid of a little gnome and a druid?"
    Keyleth brought her hands together, and a final beam of sunlight burst from her. With a flash it bounced against Pike's shield, who brought it up to deflect the blow, and collided with Silas's body. One final scream of rage and pain was all he had time to utter, then the sunlight tore him to shreds, and my master's body crumbled into ashes, utterly destroyed.
    Delilah screamed. It was a truly horrible sound, a broken agonized wail. The first sound of real unrestrained emotion I had ever heard her utter, as if Silas truly had been the other half of her soul, and his death killed half of her with it.
    I felt nothing. Then I shuddered, nauseated as the world turned upside down, and I questioned everything. What had I been doing? What had I been thinking until now? Where had all my drive and willpower gone? What the fuck had they done to me? I looked down at the spineless puppet that had possessed me until two seconds ago, and felt sickened.
    "Silas..." Lady Delilah crumpled to her knees, looking both vicious and desperate as she screamed at Percy, "You can't! I broke the world for us..." Then her face hardened, heartbreak vanishing into new resolve, and she gathered herself. "It's too soon..." She murmured almost to herself, as she got to her feet. "But it's our only chance..."
    Glancing over her shoulder at Scanlan in the distance, sporting his giant magical appendage, she took shelter from him behind the pillar. Once there, she brought her hands together, and the same doorway of vacuous shadow energy crackled behind her, and before anyone had time to counter her spell she stepped into the doorway and completely vanished. I was left alone on the top of the Ziggurat.
    "That was the lamest line ever!" Vex'ahlia called out, appearing out of the darkness overhead. The potion that she had taken seemed to still be in effect, for she came floating out of the shadows, and daintily came to rest on the top of the Ziggurat.
    "Sorry," Keyleth said sheepishly. "I'm not good with one-liners."
    "Vax!" Vex'ahlia exclaimed, hurriedly dashing to her brother's side. Until now I hadn't noticed him in all the chaos, but he was slumped on the stones of the Ziggurat, still breathing, but his eyes had no meaning as they stared at one fixed spot. With a sharp crack his twin slapped him, and though the strike had no effect, she grinned. "Now you know how it feels."
    "Oh wait, are we slappin' Vax now?" Grog said, no longer so enraged he was unable to form coherent speech. "Lemme try."
    Several slaps later something like consciousness began to return to Vax'ildan's unmeaning gaze, and after a final strike he rolled out of his sister's lap to avoid another caress from Grog. He seemed a little bruised from all the slapping, but otherwise relatively unhurt. Percy meanwhile, walked to the doors of the Ziggurat, still closed and locked, and began to examine them carefully.
    Unable to slap Vax anymore, Grog straightened to his feet, casting about dully for something to occupy him, and his eyes suddenly fell on me. Before I could have had time to protest, the half giant had bounded across the top of the pyramid and seized me by the throat, dangling my body out over the sheer edge of the Ziggurat. Terror rose within me, as I glanced down at the blind darkness that gaped beneath me, and thought of all the empty air that stood between me and solid ground, but I made no resistance.
    "No! No!" Percy exclaimed sharply, abandoning his close inspection of the doors, and taking an involuntary step forward. "No, lets not."
    "Why not?" Grog said with hard skepticism, squinting at Percy. Vax'ildan suddenly disentangled himself from his sister, and crossed the Ziggurat to stand threateningly between Grog and my brother. The tension in the air was so thick, it was almost like a line of pressure drawn between my older brother and his friends. I squirmed, trying to breathe freely with Grog's hand around my throat, half clinging to his arm, half trying to escape from it.
    "Why not Percy?" Vax demanded harshly, sided with Grog against my brother.
    "She's been here a very long time." Percy said, his gentleness far more painful than Grog and Vax's resentment. Their annoyance was justified, while Percival's mercy was not, and it stabbed me to the core, until my heart was bleeding. I shuddered, going completely limp in Grog's fist. "Lets just knock her unconscious and let her be."
    Vax's response was swift. He whipped out one of his daggers, turning the blade away, and brought down the pommel. Blackness encroached on the edges of my vision, and I yielded, loosing consciousness.