“For the glory of House Timuran!” ChuKang roared as he and the rest of the First Octian stood aside, pressing their backs against the walls. They would be the last to enter the battle.
“For the glory of the Emperor!” Drakis shouted in chorus with the rest of the Centurai around him.
Second and Third Octia rushed forward as though charging to collide where the glowing oval from Braun’s staff bisected the wall between them. Drakis felt the brush of armor and whiffed the stench of drying blood as the Second Octian rushed past him, followed immediately by the Fourth and Sixth.
“Keep moving, you slave bastards!” ChuKang shouted. “Win me enough room to kill some dwarves!”
KriChan continued to roar. “For the Emperor and his Imperial Will!”
The ranks of warriors surged forward like a confluence of rivers, leaping into the vertical glowing disk on both sides as though in collision. . but the folded space of the elven war-mages and their Proxi obeyed a reality that was uniquely dictated by the power of Aether magic. Drakis watched as the converging warriors dashed headlong into the magically wrenched space, and, from where he stood, he could see that those entering from his side were rushing into the distant illuminated plaza and engaging the charging dwarves. He knew from experience that those warriors charging in the opposite direction were rushing from the opposite side of the fold into that same plaza.
The screaming Impress Warriors of Timuran continued their charge through the blazing mystic portal until the four remaining members of the Octian Dista-all of them goblin archers-leaped through to the other side.
All that remained were the warriors of the First Octian-Drakis’ brothers in combat for as long as he could remember. ChuKang, the Captain of the entire Timuran Centurai, was at the heels of the goblin archers, roaring in battle rage, a massive sword in each hand as he turned and pushed through the portal. Ethis-a four-armed chimerian with the wonderfully durable physical structure of his kind-leaped through. He was followed by TsuRag and GriChag, both manticores from the Southern Steppes of Chaenandria as were ChuKang and KriChan. Behind them came Megri, the goblin with quick eyes and quicker fingers. He flashed a bright, sharp-toothed smile at Drakis before hopping through the fold.
KriChan hung back a moment, turning his narrowed eyes on Drakis. “Is the Proxi still good?”
Nine notes singing of the Dwarven Thrones. . Seven notes ringing of the Octia losing one. .
Drakis’ head hurt, and he was not sure he heard the manticore correctly. “Master?”
KriChan wrapped his massive paw around the back of Drakis’ neck. The human could feel the sting of the great warrior’s claws pushing against his skin, and KriChan drew him closer. “I have no time or patience to waste on you, Drakis! You are hoo-mani. . Braun is hoo-mani. Tell me now! Is the Proxi broken?”
Braun knelt next to them, watching them both with bemused interest even as he still held the fold open with sweat pouring down his face from the effort. “Tell him, Drakis! Tell the big, pet cat that he need not get his fur up. I’ve never felt better in my life, Drakis! I’ve never seen the world so clearly! Layers of cloth have been unwinding from my eyes, and for the first time, I’m beginning to see just what a lie we’re all living.”
KriChan growled as he suddenly turned on the Proxi, baring his teeth menacingly.
Braun’s blissful smile fell only slightly, his eyes suddenly focusing and his words tinted with menace. “Of course, if you kill your Proxi, who will extract your hide from this farce of a battle then, eh?”
KriChan shook violently but knew better than to harm the Proxi. He turned his wrath on Drakis instead. “He is your Proxi, Drakis! You keep him doing right by his brothers or I’ll see that you pay for his insolence!”
The manticore leaped through the fold, his weapon raised to strike.
The sounds of terrible battle flowed out of the fold, filling the now empty corridor. Devoid of the globe-torches, pitch darkness had once again reclaimed the cold, stone emptiness, except for the bright light coming from the fold that illuminated the two humans that remained.
“I don’t think he likes me,” Braun said through a smile to Drakis.
Drakis grabbed the Proxi by the elbow and dragged Braun’s shaking form to his feet. “I’m beginning to wonder if I do either.”
“Oh, I think you’ll know soon enough,” Braun said, giving Drakis a shove through the fold portal. Then Braun’s smile took on a darker, more vicious aspect. “I think we may all know soon enough.”
With that, the Proxi stepped through the fold portal with his staff. The fold collapsus at once. . choking off the light from the distant plaza and plunging the abandoned hall into utter darkness.