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Toby looked up at the swell of darkness that rose amid the falling shadows of evening, but it was only Gabriel and Razzavinax arriving.

“Good timing, as ever,” said Ampophrenon, inclining his head in greeting.  “Unless there have been more surprises?”

“These should be the last,” Razzavinax agreed.  “Avelea and Zanzayed were a bit ahead of us, so unless they’ve had an unexpected lapse in competence in the last fifteen minutes…  We should have them all destroyed now.”

“It’s usually safe to bet on Trissiny getting done whatever she sets out to,” Gabriel added.  “Whew.  This was officially a hell of a day.  I know the overall matter is not in any way settled,but right now I would kill another necro-drake for a nap and a meat pie.”

“And a bath,” Toby suggested, smiling.  Gabriel’s eyebrows drew together and he surreptitiously sniffed at the arm of his coat.

“On campaign, one must seize the opportunity to rest and refuel whenever it—”  Ampophrenon suddenly broke off and snapped his head around to stare at the eastern horizon.  “Incoming.”

Both dragons stepped to the side and shifted, their greater forms looming over the boys in seconds, finishing just as a streak of golden light appeared in the distant sky, racing toward them.  Gabriel whipped out his divine weapon, extending it to full scythe form, and Toby fell into a ready stance.

The Angelus Knight pumped its wings to slow, plummeting down to the prairie directly in front of them.  It didn’t slam into the earth the way Vadrieny had a habit of doing, but landed hard enough that it had to drop to one knee to absorb the impact.  Immediately, however, it raised its head, looking first at the four of them looming silently over it, and then straightening fully to study the spray of shattered obsidian fragments which marked the demise of the last necro-drake Toby had just finished dispatching.

“It is done, then.  Well fought, comrades.  The Light prevails.”

Its voice was like hers.  Polyphonic, sounding like an entire chorus in unison—but different, clearly being composed of other specific voices.  Vadrieny’s speech was unmistakably feminine, while the Angelus seemed to have more male than female voices in its internal choir.  Physically, too, the resemblance to its source inspiration was clear, although its blazing eyes, glowing feathered wings, and the luminous drifting strands of its hair were all a pale gold of pure divine magic rather than the orange fire that made up hers.  It had hands and feet rather than talons, armored in a style more ornate than but evidently inspired by the Silver Legions.

Giving no warning save a split-second activation of the motive charm he and Ariel had recently developed, Gabriel abruptly rocketed forward faster than normal human reflexes should have been able to catch, moving his scythe in a horizontal slash to cleave the Angelus in half.

It caught the arcing blade against its own sword; the impact drove it a full foot backward, its armored boots gouging rents in the prairie, but there it halted.  Sparks and a reedy chime of divine magic at work were emitted from the point where the valkyrie’s scythe pressed against the divine sword, but neither gave ground.  Gabriel had a massive advantage in leverage and was clearly trying to exercise it, gritting his teeth with strain against the long haft of the scythe has he tried with both hands to force its blade closer, but the Angelus held him at bay without apparent effort.

For a moment as they stood with blades locked, it studied him, androgynous face utterly impassive.  Then the construct shifted backward, pushing with its sword arm once and sending Gabriel staggering to the side.  In the moment he was vulnerable, Toby flowed forward one step and Razzavinax arched his wings threateningly, but the Angelus Knight made no further move.

“We are allies here.  Servants of the Light should not quarrel between themselves.  Be safe, comrades.  When next the Light calls, we may yet stand together.”

With no more ado it spread its golden wings, then pumped them once and shot skyward.  They all turned to watch as it wheeled away and then streaked southwest, toward Tiraas, the golden trail of its passage impossible to miss against the darkening sky.

“If Ravana’s intel is right,” Gabriel mused, staring after it, “that thing is basically an artificial Vadrieny, but using divine rather than infernal power.  Hm…  Gotta say, I don’t like my chances against the real one, and at least with her there are Circle effects I could potentially exploit.  This promises to be…an issue.”

“So naturally you took a swing at it,” Toby said in weary exasperation, turning to frown at him.

“It’s important to try things when you have the opportunity.  I figure if the thing can be fought, two paladins and two dragons can fight it.  Now we know a little bit more about its capabilities, and more importantly, how it thinks and acts.  I for one was not expecting that reaction.”

“Quite so,” Ampophrenon rumbled.  “I consider the experiment worthwhile for that alone.  That entity’s mind is unlike any I have encountered, but it is clearly no witless monster like the necro-drakes.  It believes in the righteousness of its actions, and presumably of its creator, which is dire news indeed.  The crusading mindset cannot be intimidated or persuaded; when we inevitably come to opposition, I fear there will be no recourse save to destroy it.”

Toby’s jaw tightened and he shifted to stare at the dark horizon.

“I wonder if we shouldn’t have taken the opportunity to do so here and now,” Razzavinax commented.

“I am uncertain what the outcome of that attempt would be,” Ampophrenon admitted.  “And I am reluctant to risk the lives of two paladins, at a moment when they are already fatigued and their unique attributes will be urgently needed in the near future.  Given the size of the dragonbone shards in those things, Belosiphon’s skull contains sufficient material to produce hundreds more.  I believe postponing that confrontation was best.”

“Lord Ampophrenon,” said Gabriel, turning to him, “you fought Vadrieny during the Hellwars, didn’t you?”

“I did, and beat her.  It was no easy thing even then, and the Vadrieny of those days was little more than a mad beast, very much unlike the friend you know.  This creature is a skilled warrior with all her powers and none of her drawbacks.”

“An issue indeed,” Razzavinax growled.  “Well.  We should have the rest of this discussion in the presence of the others who need to hear it.  And in the presence of some refreshments, ideally.”

***

The atmosphere in the command center at the Conclave embassy was different by the time the four of them shadow-jumped back.  The attendants were not longer scribbling notes; only two remained, one presiding over a table of food and drink, another just entering with a clipboard at the same time as the field teams came in from the teleport chamber.  Zanzayed and Trissiny were both eating sandwiches by one wall, while Mirinexes was sitting on the edge of the enchanted map table, kicking her small legs idly in the air.

“Ah, there they are,” the dragon said, waving.  “Fine work, everybody: that’s the first batch taken out.  Gods willing we’ll have a bit of a reprieve before we’ve gotta deal with any more.”

“So everybody’s in agreement about that, right?”  Gabriel had beelined for the snack table and been given a sandwich and cup of tea by the smiling Conclave attendant, and was already standing next to Trissiny taking his first sip.  “We will be seeing more of those.”

“I anticipate it’ll be a bit,” Mirinexes said seriously.  “Yes, considering who unleashed them and why, he will definitely try again.  What I reckon will constrain his timing is a strategic rather than magical consideration, for which I’ll yield the floor to Ampophrenon.  You probably saw it sooner than I did.”

“I believe our minds move in the same direction, sister,” he agreed, nodding at her and then turning to address the rest of the room.  The dragon, of course, did not look anywhere near as tired as the paladins; even the gold-embellished armor of his humanoid form was still pristine.  “We know nothing of the means by which the necro-drakes are created, save that they each have as the key component a shard of Belosiphon’s skull, which gives Justinian ample material to make as many as he needs.  I will defer to Mirinexes concerning any theories as to the method of their creation, but we do know the Angelus Knight is a far more difficult and expensive construct, requiring a dozen willing sacrifices and one keystone soul, willing or not, which had been directly empowered by the gods at one point and subsequently cut off from that source.  Whatever the process used, these must necessarily be more difficult to create, due to the shortage of available material.  It is my belief that Justinian will wait to unleash more necro-drakes until he possesses a much greater complement of Angelus Knights.”

Razzavinax and Trissiny both nodded, expressions pensive.  Zanzayed frowned and tilted his head.  “Maybe it’s the long hours, but I don’t follow.”

“Justinian’s purpose in unleashing these monsters was to take political pressure off himself by creating a crisis for which he then provides the only solution,” Ampophrenon explained.  “The monsters terrorize the populace, and only his Angelus Knight can fend them off.  The Empire’s defenses are heavily magical and thus vulnerable to chaos effects.  Only paladins are a reliable counter-measure to such beasts, and their response would be constrained by the fact that paladins can neither fly, nor teleport.”

“Ahh,” Gabriel murmured around a bite of sandwich.

“It is a fittingly prosaic detail to scramble a carefully-laid scheme,” Ampophrenon said, nodding at him.  “Thus does war so often unfold.  I don’t believe he anticipated the Conclave’s intervention, nor that draconic pride would allow us to provide something as simple as transportation.  But that was what the effort needed, and thanks to our intervention, what should have been a humiliating effort of paladins run ragged over weeks, trying to chase down necro-drakes and coax them to the ground to fight, instead unfolded very efficiently over days.”

“Of course,” Toby whispered.  “Bloody politics. We’re leveraging our credibility to undercut his, so he did this to make us look weak and foolish, and prop up his own authority.  That…monster.”

“The cleverness of the gambit deserves respect, ethical considerations aside,” said Razzavinax.  “Recriminations can be heaped at the cretin’s feet once we have him in chains.  For now,there is the more pressing matter of what he will do next.”

“Despite the terrible collateral damage and our own bedraggled state,” said Ampophrenon, still failing to look bedraggled in the slightest, “this has been a decisive victory for us, on the strategic level.  The Angelus Knight has indeed flown around looking heroic, but a highly-placed voice of authority has launched terrible accusations about the method of its creation.  And far from embarrassing themselves, that paladins have been performing legendary heroics all across a wide swath of the Empire.  What Justinian must have intended to turn the situation around has instead caused only a momentary stalemate.  Hence, Mirinexes’ and my belief that he will not attempt this again until he has more Angelus Knights.”

“He needs them to take the things down and make him look good,” Mirinexes said, nodding.  “He will do it, as soon as he can, just because creating a state of emergency forces all those who’d otherwise be coming for his own head to direct our energies elsewhere, and causes general confusion which can be leveraged by whoever has the best propaganda network.  But it’ll just backfire on him again if he doesn’t have the Knights to be seen as the one in control.”

“Then…”  Trissiny grimaced and massaged her forehead with one gauntleted hand, leaving a smudge of grime across her face.  “In addition to continuing our campaign in the political and religious arena, and reacting to whatever Justinian does next because there’s no way he doesn’t have another nasty surprise under his robes, we have to run what interference we can to prevent him getting his hands on more of the…souls he needs.”

“We can perform a delaying action at best,” said Razzavinax, his expression grim.  “Excommunicated priests are not what I would call common, but it does happen.  Regularly enough that there are surely at least a handful in every province.  Ever since Madouri’s announcement, I’m sure the Empire has been moving to secure any such they can find—she surely will have.  But so will Justinian, and simply by the nature of his organization, he has easier access to such people.”

“Considering the effort he went to for the one he used…”  Trissiny paused, grimacing bitterly at the reminder of Sister Lanora’s final fate.  “Well, if he felt the need to go so far out of his way for that one, he can’t have had any others just sitting around.”

“He has Basra Syrinx,” Toby said quietly.

“A perfect candidate, so I’d think,” Mirinexes mused.  “Must be a reason he didn’t use her.  There’s a lot we don’t know about all this hokum; that boy has been playing with some nasty toys.”

“Nothing good has ever come of digging up Elder God rubbish,” Razzavinax agreed.

“General Avelea has laid out the situation well, as I see it,” said Ampophrenon, giving her an approving nod.  “Those must be our priorities exactly: laying political pressure against Justinian will be necessary to inhibit the function of his organization and deprive him of the allegiance of the common people, two resources he desperately needs right now.  In addition, we must be alert and respond swiftly to whatever countermeasures he launches.  And in pursuit of both those goals, a proactive effort must be made to find and protect any ex-clerics.”

“He needs a lot more loyal souls than keystone souls per Angelus,” Toby pointed out.  “Undercutting his popularity will help with that, I guess, but you’ve gotta figure he’ll have most of those already secured in the Cathedral with him.”

Trissiny leaned her head back to rest against the wall, staring at the ceiling.  “All of this would be so much simpler if an all-out assault on the Cathedral were an option.”

“Triss, he tossed us like a salad on our preferred ground,” said Gabriel.  “He’s got some way of suborning the powers of the gods directly.  Going in there wands blazing—”

“I know,” she exclaimed.  “I know.  You don’t have to…  Damn it.”

Zanzayed flicked his fingers at her, igniting a tiny blue spark between them.  The dirt smeared across her face vanished; she didn’t appear to notice.

“Frontal assault against an entrenched enemy is never preferable even when it is possible, General,” said Ampophrenon.  “I am certain you know what must be done instead.”

“Yes, I do.”  Trissiny straightened up, and as she did so, her expression and posture firmed, weariness seeming to slough off her by sheer effort of will.  “Ah, dare I hope that’s a message for me?”

She addressed this to the clipboard-holding Conclave attendant who had been waiting patiently for a gap in the conversation, and now bowed to her.

“Yes indeed, General Avelea.  Your missive was dispatched as you requested, and a response has arrived.  Captain Locke sends her compliments, and reports the First Legion is standing by for orders.  The captain awaits your arrival at your convenience.  There was a second message,” he added, inclining his head quickly to Toby and Gabriel in turn.  “Duchess Madouri requests you convene with her on the matter of disseminating more tactical information about the Universal Church so as to coordinate your campaign.  She adds that she has brought Duchess Leduc into the plan.”

“Natchua?” Gabriel wrinkled his nose.

“Hm…  Wise measures, both,” said Razzavinax, nodding slowly.  “Information warfare is just like any other kind: best approached strategically, with everyone knowing their part.  And Natchua Leduc is an excellent talent to tap, the more so for being a surprising choice.  After her defense of Ninkabi, her public credibility is enormous, and she is certainly capable of handling any physical retaliation Justinian sends at her.  She just proved that in detail, at his expense.”

“I am leery of that young woman,” Ampophrenon murmured, “but perhaps for that very reason, it is best to involve her directly.  Positive influences on her can only be to the good.”

“No rest for the righteous, huh,” Gabriel said with a sigh, levering himself up off the wall.

“You should rest,” Ampophrenon told him, “as soon and as thoroughly as you are able.  It is all the more important because we know your strength will be called upon again soon.”

“But maybe after meeting with Madouri,” Razzavinax added.  “She hasn’t been out slaying monsters all day and is thus prepared to take up the fight in a different arena—as soon as the presses are running in the morning, for example.  Let’s get this next plain laid out as quickly as possible so you kids can have a well-earned sleep.  Do you think she’d object to a Conclave representative at this discussion?”

“You’re proven allies at whom only an idiot would turn up their nose,” Toby said with a smile.  “And Ravana is no idiot; I’m sure she’d be honored.”

“You wish to undertake this yourself, Razzavinax?” Ampophrenon asked.  “I wouldn’t have thought it a preferred use of your time.”

“The young lady is friendly with Maiyenn—by correspondence, at least.  It would be impolite if I passed up the opportunity.”

“And on the subject of pen pals, I’ll try to get in touch with Professor Tellwyrn,” added Mirinexes.  “We’ve exchanged letters, talking shop about magic and chaos.  She knows at least as much as I do on the subject, and if this doesn’t stir her off that mountain, nothing will.”

“Don’t lead with that,” Trissiny advised.  “Tellwyrn is prickly at the best of times and gets her back up if she thinks somebody’s trying to make her do something.  But she loves sticking her nose in if it seems like her own idea, or if it’s in the best interests of the school.”

“Look at you, barking orders at the dragon,” Gabriel said, grinning and nudging her with an elbow.

“Nonsense, that’s great stuff!” Mirinexes said cheerfully, rubbing her hands.  “Thanks for the advice, Avelea, I’ve not spoken to her in person and she is sort of legendarily cranky.  I was just going to ask Zanzayed for tips.”

“That’s more or less what I would’ve told you anyway,” said Zanzayed.  “Triss has spent more time with Arachne for the last few years than I have, by far.”

“Guys, I’m going to leave Ravana to you, if that’s okay,” said Trissiny.  “Just brief me on the plan before we put it into effect.  I trust you to assign me the most appropriate role.”

“And we’ll try to curtail her more extreme impulses,” Toby added, grinning.

“I suggest you delegate that to Lord Razzavinax,” Trissiny said wryly.  “Ravana has a way of getting people to agree to some wild things.  I rather doubt that’ll work so well on a dragon.”

“I am increasingly eager to meet this young woman,” Razzavinax said with a smile.

“Good luck with your thing, Triss,” Gabriel said.

“You too.  Zanza, ready when you are?”

“I am never less than ready!” he said cheerfully, snapping his fingers.  Blue light flashed, and then the pair of them were gone.

“Really?” Mirinexes complained.  “Why do we even have a designated teleport chamber if he’s just going to keep doing that?”

“I thought it was arrivals that were the big concern with that,” said Gabriel.  “Anyway, that’s hardly the real offense here.  He took the sandwiches!”

***

“Are you serious?” Trissiny exclaimed.  “For heaven’s sake, I can have the Legion feed you!”

“Yeah, but this is funnier,” Zanzayed replied, grinning and biting into a sandwich from the platter now balanced on his other hand.  “Oh, relax, it’s not like the Conclave is short of food either.  I guarantee they’re already bringing in a replacement tray.”

“Zanzayed, still making a production of yourself everywhere you go, I see.”  Principia had indeed been waiting in the chamber set aside in the First Silver Legion’s headquarters for teleportation.  She and the other armored woman present were at attention, though as usual the Captain herself wasn’t exactly a model of military comportment.  “I have to say I’m surprised, Trissiny.  Surely someone with your resources can arrange more reliable transportation.”

“On the contrary, this arrangement serves very well,” Trissiny disagreed, stepping down off the platform.  “We have an agreement.  He’s my personal teleport donkey, and in return for carting me around like a big blue ox I have to put up with his shenanigans, and also inflict him on people.  Everybody wins.”

“See, Locke, that’s how relationships work,” Zanzayed added condescendingly.  “Reciprocity!  Equivalent exchange!  A little tit for tat!”

“You keep your tats away from my tits,” she warned.

“Ew, you’re related.  Don’t be gratuitously unpleasant, I’m the only one here with that remit.  Really, Prin, how the hell did your kid manage to get all the social skills in this entire family?”

“She is the only person I’ve ever met with the knack of…befriending Crowbloods,” Principia agreed, studying Trissiny thoughtfully.  “It’s gotta come from Anton.  He was like that, too.”

Trissiny cleared her throat.  “Anyway, this isn’t a social call.  Locke, I’ll need you to stable my donkey.  Appropriately.”

“Yes, General, right away.  Lieutenant Avelea, please entertain Lord Zanzayed for the duration of his visit.”

Ephanie studied the dragon with undisguised wariness.  “Within…reason, I assume?”

“Oh, honestly,” Zanzayed huffed, flouncing down from the arrival platform.  “I realize I have something of a reputation with women, but there is no reason for anyone to think I’m stupid enough to try that in an Avenist military base.  Young lady—that is, Lieutenant—if you’ll start by escorting me to where you keep the booze, you and I will get along famously.”

Principia waited until the pair had departed the chamber and shut the door before turning back to Trissiny with a grim expression.

“You look worn out.  I hear it’s bad out there?”

“The monsters are all taken down, for now,” Trissiny said, grimacing.  “The Empire is fully mobilized doing damage control.  But the man who unleashed them is still sitting comfortably in a position of nigh-absolute power.”

“Hence this visit,” Locke said, nodding.  “The Legion stands ready, General.  What do you need?”

Trissiny regarded her in pensive silence for a second before responding.  “I was very pleased with the performance of the squad you sent into Tiraas.”

“I’m gratified to hear that.  I’m proud of my people.”

“Their performance, though, mostly revolved around street-level scuffles.”

“Because that was a squad handpicked for street-level scuffles,” Principia agreed, nodding.  “Corporal Elwick chose people based on the guidelines I gave her: we aim for slight overkill for the mission at hand.  You always want to have a decisive edge over the enemy, but given the kinds of powers we expect to face—and are capable of unleashing—I want to be mindful of escalation.  It’s best if the opposition goes down feeling like they could have won, had things gone differently.  Especially when that is not the case.”

Slowly, Trissiny nodded.  “I see.  And this Elwick is responsible for that performance?  Impressively done.  That’s the one with the Wreath upbringing, if I remember?  I can see why she’d have a knack for tactical thinking.”

“She does,” Principia agreed firmly, meeting her eyes.  “Casey Elwick has my absolute confidence, General.  She’s also a huge fan of yours; a word of praise from you would make her entire year.  You met, once, when she was still a cadet standing guard in the Temple in Tiraas.”

“Ahh, Elwick.  I remember now.  I’m glad she stuck with the Legions, then—a lot more glad than I expected to have reason to be.  Very good, Locke.  To business: the main problem as I see it is that we are stuck on the defensive.  Justinian is, for all intents and purposes, unassailable by physical means.”

Principia nodded.  “Any sitting Archpope would be, to say nothing of whatever horrible jiggery-pokery he’s brewing in there.  I can’t make myself believe necro-drakes and Angelus Knights are the last or worst of it.”

“Precisely.  He, himself, is not a viable target.  But he has many resources upon which he depends; any strength becomes a vulnerability if it can be struck down.  And he is, in the end, one man, whose attention and effort can plausibly be directed away from a vulnerable point at the right time.  So, Locke.  If that squad was handpicked for street-level scuffling…  What have you got that could carry out a raid on the Grand Cathedral?”

Principia Locke smiled—the small, satisfied smile of a woman in command who was watching a plan coming together.  “Just what I’ve been waiting for you to ask, General Avelea.  If you’ll join me in my office, I have some personnel files and strategy outlines to show you.”