12.10

The old man stared at the hooded figure standing before him, his eyes glittering inside his robe's cowl. He carried a dagger with six waves along the blade. He was no servant of the usurped new Temple. Zyr's progeny believed the Old Priesthood had been eliminated, but she was very wrong. A small, secretive group continued to watch her, and when needed, to assert their power on behalf of their banished deity.

The old man whispered, "There is much work still before us. The Twilight time is very close at hand. The Dark One is displeased that she has left the place where the prophecy will unfold."

"She has no interest in returning there. I have tried," the figure replied from within the hood that shielded its face in darkness.

"He is not interested in failed attempts. You are well aware of the consequences of failure!"

The hooded figure sighed in frustration, "I fear that Azriok is driving her insane. I don't know what to do. I can hardly talk to her right now."

"That was foreseen. Azriok sends her the wings in order to overwhelm her with power her mortal frame is unable to process. He believes that the overabundance of magical energy will unseat her sanity and drive her to him. This only makes our cause that much more urgent."

"Reasoning with her is a lost cause right now. She wants to go to Tenaebra to kill him."

"You must discourage that at all costs! Any effort to slay him in Tenaebra would mean her death. All of our plans would come to nothing then. If you suspect she intends to pursue that course of action, you must contact me at once. We have ways to prevent her from becoming self-destructive."

"The Black Cradle?" the figure asked, referring to a fabled magical prison cell the Old Priests had designed to hold creatures from the outer planes.

"Yes, my colleagues tested it on her when she was an infant. It will contain her and nullify her magic. There are contingency plans to force her to fulfill the prophecy should the need arise, though much will be lost using that method."

"Azriok?"

"Yes, without her choice, the war between Zyr and Azriok would remain unresolved. Azriok would use Baal to scourge the earth with every demon in Hell to get her away from us. We are uncertain we could hide her long enough from him. And were he to succeed in intervening, she would choose him purely out of anger toward us. We might well orchestrate our own defeat. The method is fraught with peril." The old man shook his head grimly, "I fear soon, we may have no alternative."

"I will do my best to get her back to that other world."

"I know you will, child. You have done well keeping her out of harm's way up until now. A great responsibility now rests on your shoulders. Do not fail us!"

"I won't, grandpa!" The figure leaned toward him and kissed the old man's forehead affectionately before turning to depart.

Outside on the street, Portia dropped the hood to her cloak and walked slowly toward the Cauldron, thinking hard about how to accomplish what was required. She had never been as concerned about Zyrdicia as she was now.