The Imperials were true to their word; it took them scarcely an hour to complete their business and depart the campus. They were discreet in addition to quick, and while a single strike team placed themselves at the direction of Professor Yornhaldt in the Crawl to provide healing, teleportation, and whatever else was needed, the rest snatched the imprisoned and raging Hand from his confines, along with Lorelin Reich and the remainder of Cross’s n. anwhile, on the grounds above, the removal of the last House Dalkhaan soldiers went even faster. By the ti the sowhat dazed students began trickling back out of the Crawl’s gates, they found the research staff andering about inquisitively, having finally erged from their protected magical bubble, and nearly all the Imperial personnel gone.
Only two Imperial Guards and one blank-faced Hand of the Emperor remained in Helion Hall after the rest had departed, keeping watch over the door to Tellwyrn’s office, while one last strike team discreetly stood by to convey the Empress ho when her business was concluded. They, too, vanished without fanfare once they were able.
“And they even had their mages repair the damage to the cafeteria, as well as the Grim Visage,” Tellwyrn added very late that afternoon, slowly pacing around the chamber. “Even considering that it was their runaway caravan who caused this entire brouhaha to begin with, I can’t fault the Throne for courtesy. They can leave behind a positive impression, when they care to make the effort.”
“Quite,” Ravana said pleasantly. “And after all, who hasn’t incidentally wrecked a University and nearly sparked a civil insurrection atop a stack of diplomatic incidents?”
Tellwyrn ca to a stop and turned a very flat stare on her. Ravana folded her hands demurely in her lap, managing to look placidly regal even sitting on a barrel of mushrooms.
The small gateway room behind the Grim Visage’s pantry was a little cluttered, between the foodstuffs stored there and the visitors present; having all the gates active filled the space with a white glow which seed to accentuate its close quarters. Oak lounged against the door fra, Ravana had perched in a distant corner, and Tellwyrn was slowly ambling back and forth on the other side of the central pedestal from them. By unspoken agreent, they had spaced themselves out as widely as the tight quarters would allow.
“I’ve never seen you wear your hair down, Professor,” Crystal’s voice said out of the air around them. The glowing gateways pulsed in ti with her voice, like the runes of a talking sword. “Is there sothing I should be concerned about?”
Tellwyrn transferred her irritated stare from Ravana to the ceiling, which she had decided was as good a place as any to give Crystal eye contact, since the golem didn’t currently have eyes. “Nothing that need trouble you, Crystal.”
“I don’t an to pry. After the day we have all had, I am sowhat leery of any more unexpected developnts, however seemingly minor.”
“It’s called ‘afterglow,’” Oak said wryly. Ravana casually inspected her fingernails.
Tellwyrn just sighed and shook her head. “Anyway. I know I have asked you already, Crystal, but now that we are not in a crisis situation and have ti to discuss the matter in more detail, let do so again: are you all right?”
“Yes, thank you, as I said before,” the disembodied voice replied. “In fact…this has all been rather educational for , Professor. You were aware, of course, that this mountain and the Crawl once belonged to one of the Elder Gods as a kind of personal citadel.”
“Most of the great dungeons were, yes,” Tellwyrn said, nodding.
“Well, I have learned the broad strokes of why my…core was hidden away in the Crawl. It seems the Elder Gods were afraid of artificial intelligences, like . They had the capacity to create them, but cultivated a deep paranoia about one gaining too much agency and turning on them. Strict rules governed the creation and use of any such AI. The god who owned this place, like most of them, conducted research which went against their rules. I am getting the impression, from the incomplete records I have found here and there, that this was more or less the Elders’ major pasti: hiding illicit projects from one another and trying to expose and wreck each other’s experints.”
“Let guess,” Tellwyrn said, frowning slightly. “This one was studying artificial intelligence.”
“So it would seem! I am not sure what, exactly, I was… There are a number of fragntary intelligences squirreled away in various parts of the deep records which…I would not wish to activate. They would be, for want of a better term, insane. It is fortuitous for us all that you found and not one of them.”
“Where relics of the Elders are concerned, apparent fortune has a disconcerting tendency to be design,” Tellwyrn murmured. “Which one was it?”
“His na was Druroth.”
“Mm. I’ve heard the na, here and there. Funny how I’ve been visiting this place for centuries and owning it for fifty years and never could suss out whose playhouse it used to be…”
“The Crawl, like all the dungeons, is an indescribable ss, Professor. It turns out if you leave the illicit experints of nigh-omnipotent galomaniacs to fernt unsupervised for thousands of years…”
“How intriguing!” Ravana said pleasantly. “I had always wondered, offhandedly, why the great dungeons existed. They make little sense, if you approach them with the presumption that they were designed to be as they are.”
Oak wrinkled her nose, but Tellwyrn ignored them both. “I have sowhat laboriously built up a rapport with the Crawl itself, Crystal. It has always had an indistinct but undeniably real intelligence of its own—and I guess now we know why. Is it…?”
“That would be the sub-OS, yes. It is functional and unhard, Professor. At the mont I have overtaken its duties, but it provides a convenient…architecture, so to speak, to help orchestrate my efforts. Without its help I think I would be totally at a loss.”
“All right.” Tellwyrn nodded. “Then, the question becos: what do you want to do now?”
There was a pause.
“…I think I would like to co ho, Professor. I believe the Crawl will be just as happy returned to its previous state, and while I am learning the most fascinating things… I very much enjoyed being on campus, being a librarian, interacting with the kids. I do hate to put you out—”
“Now, stop right there!” Tellwyrn held up a hand peremptorily. “You are a mber of the University’s staff, Crystal, and you’re a friend. It is not an imposition. If you had preferred to remain down here, I was prepared to let that lie, but if you want your body back I will get right on it. I’ll have Alaric help. Working from whatever was left after that asshole’s attack, I’m sure we can have it functional within a week or so. That will tide you over till I can put together a better one. I’ve already thought of so improvents that I think you’ll enjoy.”
“I deeply appreciate that, Professor. It will be good to get back to my routine. I shall make certain my intelligence is contained in my core, so I should not be at all fragnted when you are ready to remove from the interface.”
“Good girl. And that brings to the next order of business.” Tellwyrn turned to face the doorway, stepping out from behind the pedestal so she had a clear view of Oak. “It seems I have another employee who has recently experienced a big change.”
“Yeah…sa goes,” Oak said with a shrug. “I guess the little bastards will have so trouble getting used to this, but so far, it seems to consist mostly of gawking at my tits. That doesn’t hurt any.”
Tellwyrn hesitated before answering. “Just so we’re absolutely clear… You want to go back to being the cook?”
“It’s as good a job as any,” the dryad said, smiling faintly. “Arachne… Thank you. I really appreciate you giving a place to be while I was… You know. And more importantly, sothing to do. I’ve seen several of my sisters go weird like I did, and they all ended up a lot worse. Cooking for a hundred-odd people isn’t a real challenging task, ntally, but it keeps you busy and…y’know, engaged. I owe you for that. So, if it’s all right with you, I think I’d like to go back to doing it while I figure out…what’s next. Soti in the future I may wanna leave, but for now…?”
“I’d be very glad to have you back at your post, Oak,” Tellwyrn said, smiling. “For as long as you’d like to do it. You’ve got thirty-six years of back pay set aside, too, if you decide you would like to participate in the economy.”
“…the what?”
“Oh, boy.” The Professor adjusted her spectacles. “We’re going to be having so interesting conversations in the weeks to co, I can tell. Let just head off the biggest one: while you’re a mber of the staff, sexual relations with the students are prohibited.”
Oak made a face. “That’s a dumb rule.”
“No, it isn’t,” Tellwyrn retorted. “If you’re actually interested, I’ll sit down with you and explain about power dynamics, abuse, and institutional corruption, but for the ti being, all you need to know is that it is a rule. Understood?”
“Sure, fine,” Oak replied, shrugging. “Other…staff are okay, though?”
“Try not to create unnecessary drama in the faculty lounge,” Tellwyrn said with a pained expression. “But…yes, that’s…permissible.”
“Good,” the dryad said, a grin stretching across her face. “Cos that Rafe guy slls feisty.”
“Oh, dear gods,” Tellwyrn muttered. “Well, all things considered, we were about due for good news. And this has been an optimal outco; at least I don’t have to replace any staff mbers. This sester has already set a record in terms of losses among the student body.”
“How bad is it, Professor?” Crystal asked softly.
“Well,” Tellwyrn said with a bitter twist of her mouth, “Chase is gone, obviously. He’s having gods know what done to him in Tar’naris, and on his head be it. We’re also losing Miss Willowick. She slipped a letter under my office door…hell, it had to have been practically the mont she got back to the surface. Apparently this school is a little too exciting for her blood; she’s finishing the sester and then moving out. I understand,” she added, turning to Ravana, “that thanks to her current roommate, she has a guaranteed job at Falconer Industries lined up.”
“I would pull strings to make that happen, if it beca necessary,” Ravana said, “but I hardly think it will. Maureen has worked with Teal on that…honeybee of theirs. Much better if Teal is the one to make the arrangents; I greatly prefer not to micromanage the Falconers, or any of my subjects. My philosophy is that when one wields power, it is always best to do so with the lightest touch circumstances allow.”
“I am very glad to hear that, Miss Madouri,” Tellwyrn said evenly. “Very glad indeed. You just spared yourself from being expelled, for the mont.”
Ravana’s placid smile vanished instantly. “I beg your pardon?”
“Look at how much help it was for you to interfere and destroy Oak’s sanctuary,” Tellwyrn said bitingly. “You accomplished a sum total of nothing.”
“I kind of appreciate it,” Oak offered. “I didn’t at first, but after so thought…”
“It was hardly wasted effort,” Ravana said, now frowning. “We delayed and injured the enemy, giving our classmates and teachers ti to prepare, and weakening him for his eventual defeat.”
“Which occurred thanks to Crystal,” Tellwyrn snapped, “and Maureen. You and Oakhad no effect on the outco.”
“Be that as it may,” Ravana fired back, “at the ti, based on the information I had—”
“That is also what you did to Addiwyn,” Tellwyrn interrupted. “And it’s what you did to your father.”
Silence fell in the chamber. Ravana’s hands clenched in her skirts, face going white.
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“You put up with him passively for years,” Tellwyrn continued after a montary pause, “until fate placed you in a room with him, an archdemon, and a Themynrite priestess, at which point you poked the hornet’s nest until the inevitable happened. When having a simple dostic squabble with your roommate, you ambushed her in a blind alley with witchcraft. When you woke up in the chapel and the obvious course of action was to evacuate the campus for your safety, you instead did…well, this.” She gestured at Oak.
“Forgive ,” Ravana said sharply, “but it sounds as if your complaint is that my thods get results.”
“Your thods?” Tellwyrn shook her head. “You’re a noblewoman, you have been trained in plenty of thods. What’s at issue is your whole approach to life, Madouri. In any situation where you’re tested against an enemy, you find the most uncontrollable, unpredictable weapon within your reach, point it in the general direction of your opponent, and give it a swift kick! On a fundantal level you think like the villain in a bardic epic. And what’s worse, you seem to effortlessly get whoever’s near you to go along with whatever mad plan you have pulled out of your butt this ti. Do you see my concern, Madouri?”
Ravana stared. Her lips parted for a mont, but she seed to be speechless for once.
“Have you noticed how few aristocrats we have here?” Tellwyrn pressed on. “And of those, either the kids of friends of mine, or the disgraced, disfavored, or bastard offspring of whatever House. The expendable. Aside from young Aldarasi heirs, scions of a family with which I have been close since before the Empire existed, you are the first student at this University who was destined for the high seat of a major House. For most nobles, this is simply not the kind of education they want for those who will lead their Houses into the next generation. I’ve been accused often enough of running a glorified school for adventurers, and while that’s a vapid oversimplification it is not totally wrong. What we do here just isn’t what nobles in this century do. And then you, first thing after getting rid of your father, applied here.”
“I should think,” Ravana said, struggling for poise, “there was a complint in—”
“And now I find myself wondering,” Tellwyrn continued inexorably. “Am I teaching you what I seek to teach all my students—to go through life thinking about their actions and doing the intelligent thing in any situation? Or am I simply arming you with practice and connections so you can play out so kind of antiheroic fantasy? Because if it’s the second one, Madouri, I will not hesitate to toss you out of here on your dainty little butt. You’ll get killed doing that, and House Madouri with you. That’d be a hell of an end to a thousand-year lineage, don’t you think?”
“I have no intention,” Ravana said in a soft but rigid voice, “of being the last of my line, nor of going out in any blaze of glory.”
“Then you need to re-think your entire approach to life, girl, because the path you’re on leads to exactly that. Quite frankly, if you want to make yourself an arch-villain, go for it. It’s as good a strategy as any. But you need a subtler strain of villainy, if so. The world is not tolerant of people who rant on mountaintops with arcane super-weapons anymore. It won’t be marauding heroes who destroy you, it will be governnt regulators, newspaper editorialists, tax assessors. That would be an unworthy end for soone of your talents.”
“I confess,” Ravana said after a pause, “I am not accustod to being so thoroughly dressed down by soone who is…correct. You’ve given so things to think about, Professor.”
“Good,” Tellwyrn said, her previous ire abruptly leaving her in a sigh. “Do so. I’ll think about them as well, and then we will have another discussion about your future. For now, though… I have one more difficult conversation to face tonight, one I’m looking forward to even less than these, so best not to put it off any further. Excuse , ladies.”
And then, with her customary lack of fanfare, she was gone.
“She actually said a polite good-bye before teleporting out,” Crystal marveled. “She…really is changing.”
“And we, I note, are still here,” Ravana observed with a tinge of irritation. “I gather we will be returning ho the slow way.”
Oak grinned at her. “Arachne’s always been a big believer in the cognitive value of walking.”
The sun had nearly set completely, leaving only the rest sliver of red light on the very edge of the prairie. The sky would continue to fade into darkness over the long minutes to co. She stood a full quarter mile from the base of the mountain, staring straight across the waving tallgrass at the sunset. After a stop in her old room, she had collected her dark glasses, which made this possible even for her Underworld eyes. Natchua hadn’t bothered to change clothes or apply mousse to her hair, and now it was tugged this way and that by the wind, green and white strands occasionally drifting across her vision.
She didn’t react to the nearly silent arrival behind her.
“I hope you don’t think you’re hiding, young lady,” Professor Tellwyrn said sternly, stepping forward.
“Of course not,” Natchua replied. “Just…being awake. I like sunsets. It seems I’ve missed a few.”
“We need to talk.”
“I know.”
“Is there anything you’d like to tell about the hellgate?”
“I summoned the gnagrethyct,” Natchua said softly, staring at the horizon. The last edge of the sun had just slipped below it. “Chase was in communication with it, using it to re-arrange the Darklands on the other side of the dinsional barrier from the Golden Sea. I brought it to this plane, thinking you would destroy it. Vadrieny did just as well, though.”
Tellwyrn emitted a very faint sigh through her nose. “Anything else?”
“I know you never wanted here, Professor.”
“If you,” Tellwyrn said dangerously, “are about to start blaming for your historic lack of judgnt…”
“No, no. I just an… You didn’t want here, but you’ve never made feel unwanted. You always treated exactly like every other student. I appreciate that a lot, Professor. Whatever else happens, I just want to say thank you, while I still can. I may not have made good use of it, but you gave a chance. Thank you.”
“You are welco,” Tellwyrn said. She stepped forward again, standing beside Natchua and staring off across the plain. “But you are just as culpable as Chase Masterson for the havoc he has caused, between the hellgate and his sleeping curse, because the whole ti you had the power to end it at any mont by coming to . You didn’t.”
“I thought I could deal with him,” Natchua said wearily. “At least, keep him under control. And avoid…”
“Facing responsibility like an adult?”
The drow closed her eyes, and nodded. “Yes. That.”
Tellwyrn shook her head. “This is more than I can overlook, Natchua. It goes beyond the realm where any assigned punishnt is relevant. It’s no longer a matter of correcting your behavior. You’ve posed a severe threat to the existence of this University and everyone in it. I have to ask you to collect your belongings and leave.”
Natchua nodded again. “I understand.”
“I have a friend,” Tellwyrn continued. “Zanzayed the Blue. I’ll introduce you to him and arrange a sort of…apprenticeship.”
“Is that…a dragon?” Natchua asked incredulously.
Tellwyrn showed teeth in a faint grin. “Zanza isn’t much of a people person—even less than I am. You’d like him. He won’t like you, at first, but he owes favors he’s not going to want to call in; I can make him take you in. It’s not going to be as much freedom or fun as the University, but it beats the hell out of getting taken down by an Imperial strike team. And after a few years working for him, I think you’ll find yourself much better prepared to deal with the world.”
“I don’t understand.” Natchua snuck a glance at her. “You don’t owe anything. On the contrary, I wouldn’t have been hugely surprised if you’d decided to kill .”
“That isn’t an acceptable solution to problems in most places that aren’t the Underworld,” Tellwyrn said, rolling her eyes. “You’ve screwed the pooch here, Natchua, made it impossible for to justify keeping you on campus. That doesn’t an I’m prepared to throw you away. I hate to give up on a project. Or a person. And the truth is…”
She trailed off, staring into space for a long few seconds, while the drow watched her carefully out the corner of her eye.
“I relate to you so damn much,” Tellwyrn whispered at last. “You have no idea. Three thousand years ago I landed in a world I barely understood, carrying incredible powers I understood even less, and had to just…make do. We are very much alike, right down to your general disdain for social skills and entirely unjustified belief that the world owes you sothing. It’s like looking in a ti-lost mirror. But the world today isn’t the world then. I grew to beco the great and legendary Tellwyrn because in that era, swaggering around exploding things and hexing people with wild abandon was exactly how you built respect. Now? There are far too many individuals and institutions powerful enough to deal with the likes of you and I, and almost no empty space left in which to operate without stepping on their toes. If my life had suddenly started a year ago, or a decade ago, I’d probably be dead by now. And if you try to do what I did, which is exactly what your personality and life experiences will all but compel you to do, that is where you’ll end up. You’ve already ssed up your life pretty thoroughly, Natchua. But not so thoroughly that I want to see you lose the remainder. Not if I can still help you.”
Natchua swallowed heavily, again gazing out into the dark.
“Zanzayed has colleagues in the Conclave of the Winds who know your…preferred type of magic,” Tellwyrn added after a mont. “Razzavinax the Red is a big deal in the organization, so I understand, and he loves teaching ornery youngsters. He’s sort of famous for it, or infamous. You can learn to control what Elilial gave you with the dragons. More importantly, they are in the process of adapting to the world as it is. Ancient, powerful, once unchallenged beings learning to get by in modern reality. Learn with them, and you’ll learn what you need.”
Natchua turned fully to face her, took two steps backward, and bowed deeply from the waist.
“Thank you for your very generous offer, Professor Tellwyrn. I appreciate deeply that you’d still show that kind of consideration. But I have to decline. There is…sothing I need to do, first.”
“Natchua,” Tellwyrn warned, “you are not powerful enough to break through Tar’naris’s defenses and do anything to your mother. Your people have been fending off warlocks—Scyllithene warlocks, a much more dire breed than the craft you learned—since the Elder Wars.”
“Good guess, but no,” Natchua replied, straightening and letting her lips twist in a wry little smile. “If I never see Tar’naris or anyone from it again, it’ll be too soon for my taste. I really can’t say any more, Professor, except that I’m grateful for the offer.”
Tellwyrn heaved a deep sigh, shook her head, and turned her back, staring up at the mountain. As the sky darkened and stars began to erge, it cut a striking silhouette against the deepening blackness.
“We’ve all noticed so of your…odd staffing choices,” Natchua said in a more hesitant tone. “The rumors about Stew are pretty unbelievable, but it’s an open secret that Afritia Morvana has killed more people than the Vashtar influenza. And is Janis van Richter really in the Glassian royal line?”
Tellwyrn half-turned back, just enough to give her a pointed look. “Is that any of your business?”
Natchua shook her head. “I’m just considering the future. Is it possible that…so day…if I co back here, there might be a place for at Last Rock?”
The Professor studied her face. “That,” she said slowly, “would depend on the manner of your return, and what’s transpired in the interim. But if you haven’t done sothing to make it specifically impossible… It wouldn’t be the first ti I’ve found a ho for a prodigal child at my school.”
“Thank you,” Natchua said, and bowed again, now wearing a sad little smile. “For everything, Professor. I’m sorry I let you down.”
“Whatever you’re up to next,” Tellwyrn replied, “think. Think all the way to the end, before you act.”
“I will. I promise. This ti, I already have.”
The Professor looked at her for another long mont, then nodded once, and vanished without another word.
For a full minute after, Natchua stood alone on the prairie, listening to the wind. Finally satisfied that she was alone, she pulled a little glass bottle from within her pocket and carefully removed the cork.
The mist that spewed forth was far greater in volu than such a tiny receptacle could have held, had its properties been rely physical. The swirling vapor coalesced imdiately into a humanoid shape, then resolved itself to reveal milky skin, spreading wings, and various other features Natchua had scarcely a mont to observe before the succubus let out a long whoop.
laxyna launched herself skyward and began gliding about overhead, executing figure eights, loops, midair pirouettes and other exuberant tricks.
“That’s really subtle,” Natchua comnted. “We’re still practically in the shadow of the mountain, you know. I just had a nice mont with Professor Tellwyrn; I’d rather not ruin it by finding out what she thinks of smuggling you out.”
“The sky!” the demon crowed, settling to the ground nearby. She imdiately flopped over on her back, folding her wings around herself, and began rolling around on the ground, mashing down a swath of tallgrass and giggling hysterically. “The ground! Grass! Bugs! FREEDOM!”
“Don’t use it all up at once,” the drow said dryly. “We’ve a long way to go yet.”
“Right!” laxyna hopped nimbly to her feet. “What is your plan, master? And how may this humble servant play a role in the fulfillnt of your ambitions?”
“The short version,” Natchua said, folding her hands behind her back, “is that Elilial singled out, unjustly, as a weapon. I intend to make her regret it.”
As if a switch had been flipped, the succubus’s glee imdiately vanished. “Oh, no. Kid, no. No, no, no! You are not the first warlock to get it into her head she’s going to take down the Queen of Demons using her own power. I’ve heard many iterations of this story, and they all have the sa ending. It’s a hilarious ending, unless I’m standing in the middle of it!”
“Three things,” Natchua said, holding up three fingers. “What I have, what I know, Elilial gave herself. She specifically left with more infernal knowledge, and thus power, than anyone could possible need or use, so I would create the maximum havoc. I am not just any warlock. Second, I have nowhere left to go and nothing to do with my life except seek my revenge, so if I fail, or die trying…eh. And third…” She lowered her hand and turned again to stare, this ti to the southwest, toward Viridill, Tar’naris, and beyond them, Athan’Khar. “A great doom is coming. The Black Wreath have been pared to the bone by recent events, the archdemons brought to earth to inhabit mortal bodies and all but one lost in the process. Elilial is planning sothing now, sothing of great import, and she has already suffered setbacks. Her plans are frayed, if not hanging by a thread. There will never be a better ti.”
“No. Absolutely not!” laxyna covered her face with both hands. “Just…just put back in the Crawl. I’m not doing this. Not this.”
“I don’t recall our pact having an escape clause. Oh, relax,” she added disdainfully as the succubus made as if to physically lunge at her. “The last thing I want is a squirrelly child of Vanislass tagging along against her will, tripping up at every opportunity. I’m not going to pit you against the Dark Lady’s minions, l. I just need your help to gather up so resources and allies who will see this through with . Once that’s done, and before I move on to the real plan, I intend to offer you release from the pact. With, of course, stipulations to prevent you from interfering with further. I have so sympathy for soone buried underground,” she added. “It’s stifling to the very soul. Whatever else cos of this, I’ll be glad to end it knowing you’re free. After you’ve made yourself useful.”
“All right,” laxyna said warily. “I am…tentatively not planning to murder you in your sleep, master. So, you want allies and resources that’ll help you take your fight right to Elilial, then? Why do I suspect the paladins on that campus of yours aren’t on your list?”
“Sort of.” Natchua grinned maliciously. “In fact… I know exactly where to start.”
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