“This had better be important!” Sedrus came with his usual bad attitude, stopping just shy of the Lakayre Manor’s front porch.

“Well, of course, it is,” Meristal rebuked sharply. “Do you think I’d just call you to waste your time and mine? No! I’d rather spend my time doing other things than putting up with you.”

“Your tongue’s sharp this morning, Madam Raviils,” Sedrus glowered.

“It speaks the truth. Maybe Judas will put up with your insolence, but I won’t. Now, close your mouth before I do it for you.”

“Why are we meeting at the warlock’s house?”

“Do you know of any place in Ralloc where we can all meet without being overheard?” she countered. The centaur bit back a retort, and Meristal turned her eyes to the others gathered. “Now then, we can get to business. As some of you may be aware, Judas and his pupil are on the run. The Kothlere Council tried to track them down and failed so far. He’ll remain out of contact until the war starts. And the attack on Dlad City? The vampires are responsible, rousing from their shadows, and as Staell told us, the sheol are stirring. Apparently, there have been more sightings of them outside of their Ruins, and the council’s keeping it quiet. Is that not so?” she asked, directing her question at Sedrus.

He nodded.

“When will Judas return?” Mella, the elyfian, questioned.

“I suspect he’ll be returning shortly, especially if this war escalates as quickly as he suspects. Before he left, Judas shared his thoughts with me. He said that the first few attacks of the war will be small skirmishes, but the real war won’t start until they breach the Corridor and into the Ralloc domain. That is, of course, if you don’t count Dlad City.”

“What strategic value is in small skirmishes?” Mella quired, bewildered. A newcomer stood beside her, a fellow elyf, and everyone recognized him. Prior to today, he’d never been a part of their gathering before. He was the Supreme War Commander of the elyfian Enclave in the Vikal Mountains and hailed a hero and veteran of the first war.

“I don’t question Judas’s judgment or Xilor’s logic. But I’d speculate the dark lord’s absence will make some of his followers leery of going to war, and these skirmishes will be a way for him to establish who’s still loyal.”

“Do you believe it’ll come to a Second Wizard’s War?” Sedrus posed, skeptical.

“Yes. I do.”

“What do you need from us to help him, Madam Raviils?” Zmora urged.

“The time will come soon; we need to know who will be ready to stand and fight, and against whom. Staell hinted the unicorns retreated to their valley beyond Wizard’s Pass. Judging by his absence here and his ominous words, they’ll only come to our aid when Judas is vindicated.”

“The elyves don’t get involved, but we’ll take the vampires of Shadow City should they arise again,” Supreme War Commander Yullus pledged the elyves allegiance. “Years do not forget a needed revenge for the spilled blood of the innocents of the first war. We’ll march when you give us the signal, Madam Raviils.”

“Here, here,” cheered Atz and Lurx, the dwaven, in unison.

“Should any dragons come into the scene, we fairies will try what we can,” Zmora pledged. “It may not be enough. Our Head of Creatures must be informed that we’re entering the war.”

“And we centaurs won’t give into this war either!” Sedrus nagged defiantly. “That comes from the Mother Centaur.”

“That figures!” Meristal reproved coldly. “You centaurs never were too brave, were you?”

Sedrus reared up before coming down hard, stamping his hooves. He glowered down at the beautiful wizard. “What’s that supposed to mean, Witchen?”

“It’s quite clear what I meant!” Meristal retorted, holding his gaze. His audacity to call her names was a short-lived bravery punctuated by Judas’s absence. Sedrus insulted her, calling her an evil magical user, like calling Judas a sorcerer. “You and your kind stick to yourselves when everyone else needs your aid, but the moment trouble finds you, you squeal and scream for us to help. Your pacifist act is getting a little old, don’t you think? The centaurs hadn’t left your forest for battle or war since the dwaven and centaurs conflict.”

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“You and everyone else like you are cowards,” Scodd Yullus grunted, his brontide voice breaking the mounting tension between the centaur and Meristal.

Sedrus glared at him for a moment but otherwise cowered to the sudden confrontation. He swung his attention back to Meristal. “I’m done. Do you hear me? I’m out. I’ll keep your secrets because I know the warlock will come after me if I don’t, but don’t expect anything else from me.”

The centaur turned his back and galloped off in the direction of Ralloc.

Meristal screamed after him. “Know this, when we’re all gone, no one will come to your aid when Xilor decides you’re his next victim!”

“Let him go,” Yullus advised. “We’re acquainted with their position. The past repeats itself. Let him go; we don’t need him.”

“I didn’t realize the elyves carried such a hate for the vampires.” Zmora mused. “I thought revenge was beneath you.”

“The clan may not be out for revenge, but I am. And there’ll be much blood spilled before I’m satisfied.”

“Right,” Meristal grumbled as she turned to face the others. “If we stand and fight together, we’ll be stronger and last longer than individually.”

“Agreed,” Scodd concurred. “However, it’s imperative that we take the vampires ourselves.”

Meristal nodded. “I hope we can count on you to join us in what will probably be the most crucial battle: the battle for the Corridor. If we lose there, we could lose the domain very easily.”

“We could bleed him there,” the War Commander advised. “If Cape Gythmel is lost, we should exact a heavy toll. While I’ve pledged allegiance when dealing with the vampires, it’s up to the king to decide if we’ll ride to war with you.” Scodd switched subjects. “Where is the warlock, if you do not mind me asking?”

“Judas and his apprentice are inside the Corridor, or so I guess. He would’ve made contact by now if they were out. I assume his apprentice is having difficulty finding her way across.” Meristal laid a map of the realm down on the porch for everyone to see. “The elyves will march from their Enclave in the north of the Vikal Mountains, through Cross Roads in the southwest. From there they’ll make a west-by-southwest approach to Shadow City. After you defeat the vampires, contact us. We may still be in the Cape, and you can march southeast and join your forces with the rest of us, or we might have you augment Dlad City as a backup. It’ll be up to the War Council at that point.”

“What’s Ralloc’s plan?” Scodd inquired. “Are they going to attempt to fortify Troll City?”

Meristal barked a laugh. “There’s no plan, not yet, at least. The council is still in denial about the whole thing. The first casualties and refuges will snap them out of apathy.”

“That doesn’t bode well for the victims.”

“I agree, and I’ll do what I can, but don’t expect much until it happens.”

“What if Xilor beats us to Cape Gythmel?” Mella broke in, a thoughtful look on her face.

“Then, we’ll have to fight harder to reclaim it,” Meristal addressed with a ring of authority. “This is the plan: nobody moves until I give the signal; I’ll join Judas in the Marcoalyn domain and hopefully spur him into action before Xilor attacks. With any luck, he will. If so, I’ll get him to the Cape where he can help organize a defense. I’ll contact you all through the Psimond method. Cape Gythmel isn’t fortified to withstand a battle, so whoever gets there first needs to start assembling a defensive structure and evacuate everyone to Dlad City and then to Ralloc.” Meristal stood and looked at everyone. Feeling their resolve, she moved away from the group.

Everyone said their goodbyes and readied themselves to depart. This meeting would be the last time they’d see each other for a while, and maybe even the last time ever for some. They all knew the risks of war; no one wanted it, but they’d fight if the need arises. Meristal knew that when Xilor returned, the jyneruls of the War Council would finally raise an army to oppose him, but she was afraid this would be too late.

“We can’t pledge allegiance to any side, as I’m sure you can appreciate,” a voice whispered. Meristal looked up but didn’t see anyone. She turned as a being materialized. Large white wings folded delicately behind her. Her face was angular, sharp, prominent cheekbones and a high ridged nose.

“Adoreria,” Meristal smiled. “I should’ve known.” The archangel dipped her head, touching the fingers of her right hand to her forehead. Meristal waved the gesture away. “I don’t warrant such a greeting.”

“Perhaps not officially.”

“Has anyone—?”

“No,” the archangel interrupted. “No one sent me. And as I stated, we can’t take sides; it’s forbidden. But that doesn’t mean we’ll let Xilor go unmolested. Difficulties and setbacks are bound to arise along the way.”

Meristal smiled and sat on the steps, inviting Adoreria to do the same. “I believe we have some catching up to do.”

The archangel sat beside her, a smile spreading across her face. “Indeed, we do.”