It got easier once Dimdweller found us. The dwarf was taking the chill in his stride, quite literally, as he was being forced to walk until Shallowlie came along with a ghost-palanquin for him. Even with the arch-diviner’s assistance it was another five minutes and three deathknight-encounters before we grabbed ourselves a wizard. By the time the larger band including Winterprince in its ranks approached our flagging group with the promise of warmth Glancefall looked like he was about to faint, and keeping us all in fighting-condition was clearly taking its toll on Fangmoon.

The ice-bound wizard’s magic coursed through my body as he soared over me, and I heard the sound of his chuckle grinding out once more.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s alright for some,” Spiritwhisper thought scornfully at him, testing out the flight he’d been newly imbued-with. “Just you remember who it is stops you gettin’ lost in a place like this.”

“I know where the Door is,” the wizard’s voice snapped and cracked. “Good luck getting there, without my spells.”

For a split-second the flight Spiritwhisper was using seemed to dip in effectiveness, and the arch-enchanter bobbed up and down in the air nervously.

“Don’t do that, alright!” he muttered, matching Winterprince in speaking out-loud.

The arch-wizard just chuckled again, and moved back to Dimdweller as we all started heading west again at improved speed.

“I thought they were all dead,” the dwarven diviner was saying to Leafcloak, “thought it was some trickery. Too many diviners here… When I heard Rosedawn, I thought she was dead already… We’re lucky you were more trusting.”

“I told you years ago it’s simply the worst disadvantage of divination,” the white-haired druidess said in fond tones, “that you can’t –“

“Trust your instincts,” the dwarf finished for her, a bit gloomily. “Yeah, I remember: that’s another disadvantage.”

She smiled sweetly at him.

Dimdweller appraised her. “You were younger then –“

“You weren’t.”

The two of them laughed.

“I was going to say, ‘yet no less wise’,” the dwarf continued, “but if you –“

“Glancefall?”

All conversation, physical and psychic, halted at the sound of Timesnatcher’s voice, then crows of jubilation filled the telepathic landscape.

“Aha!” Glimmermere exulted. “We knew you would make it. No one would even take a bet…”

“And Lightblind?” Starsight asked.

“She’s… she went home,” the arch-diviner replied, then before anyone could comment went on, “I’ve got Mountainslide here with me…”

“Of course he found himself a wizard,” I snarked in a low voice, and a few of the others nodded appreciatively.

It quickly became apparent once we all regrouped that every champion left alive in Mund was accounted for, except two… Timesnatcher, Dimdweller and Starsight; Mountainslide and Winterprince; Spiritwhisper and Glancefall; Leafcloak, Glimmermere and Fangmoon; me and Shallowlie…

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Every champion left alive in Mund was accounted for… except Direcrown and Shadowcloud. The wizard’s spells had stayed active until they expired, which presumably meant he was still alive, at least, but for the sorcerer we had no such indication.

And even setting aside the issue of the dead and absent champions, we were low in numbers now. As Timesnatcher related while we flew, every single magister had gone missing or, more likely, fled back to the Winter Door, back to the safety of Mund.

After Zakimel led Zadhal’s aerial forces right to us.

“How convenient,” Glimmermere murmured.

“They have plausible deniability, and that’s all they’ve ever had, or needed,” Timesnatcher replied. “You can forget any dreams of taking revenge on them for this. We all had the option of retreat.” He didn’t sound best-pleased himself, but he mind-sighed then went on: “Did anyone see Shadowcloud or Direcrown after the rout?”

“I can’t see them now,” Starsight offered. “Doesn’t that mean they went with Zakimel?”

“Not necessarily,” Leafcloak replied. “It could be the death-lord, couldn’t it?”

Something occurred to me.

Zel, do I have any of those imps that teleport? I need fast answers.

“I can’t feel them the way you can, Feychilde.”

I held their images in my mind, flicked through them.

“That one. That’s a gungrelafor.”

Gungrelafor? It had two red horns atop its head that curled near the base then pointed straight down at its little cloven hooves; its short, fat tail had a cruel barb on the tip. Isn’t that one of those obsidian-tower spider-things?

“That’s gaumgalamar.” She said it in such an exasperated tone it was almost as though she couldn’t hear the fact the two words were almost gods-damned identical. “Gungrelafor aren’t really in any one place at a given time – that’s why it’s such a mess if you join with them. Not saying you couldn’t give it a go, though.”

The fairy just wasn’t going to give it up –

“Grr!” Zel said – actually said, rather than growling, which was incredibly cute –

Now she was growling –

And, feeling rather pleased with myself, I summoned the imp she’d indicated into the air beside me.

It looked rather surprised to be summoned into motion, licking its teeth nervously, and did its best with its two pairs of wings to keep up. Timesnatcher got everyone to slow while I gave it instructions, and with a bit of direction from the arch-diviner and some literal directions from Glancefall, I sent it on its way to the Winter Door.

In under two minutes it returned in a flash of crimson flame, and we halted in the shadow of a jagged, rubble-skirted spire to listen to its words.

I started by asking, “Grel nissag Mrundi?”

“I speak it,” it hissed, flicking its forked, pink tongue from its bat-like face as it hung in the air. It eyed my companions warily before continuing: “I met the one you called the Zakimel, Master. He said to me only this, and no more, with malice in his eyes: ‘Bid Feychilde and the others our best wishes, and tell them not to get themselves killed on a madman’s whim.’”

I grinned, and some actually chuckled. I glanced at Timesnatcher; below the mask I could see his stony expression, his lips fixed in a tight line. He seemed to be holding himself very still, suddenly, as though he didn’t realise none of us took Zakimel seriously. It was his fault we were in this mess, not Timesnatcher’s.

“And what didn’t he say to you?” I asked.

The imp took its turn to grin. “I saw one of those ones you mentioned. The lilac-clad magister, he was present. Many magisters, there were.”

“But not Shadowcloud? Direcrown?”

“Not that I could see, Master. I did not leave immediately, but looked around the place. It is strange. The Shadowcloud and the Direcrown, no. They were not there.”

“Thanks,” I said, perhaps a bit coldly, and waved him away. I looked up at the others. “This doesn’t mean they didn’t go that way then head off to –“

“They did not leave Zadhal,” Timesnatcher said with such confidence he could’ve been quoting the Book of Kultemeren. “They are still here – somewhere.”

“This is an opaque night in which we find ourselves,” Starsight said, “and it’s only by blindly grasping that we’ll find them, if they are still alive. We must continue.”

“I concur,” Dimdweller intoned.

“Well, who’s going to gainsay that?” Leafcloak murmured. “Let’s get on with it.”

* * *