The Crystal Mountain by Thomas M. Reid Page B

and glided on feathered wings to the ground, near the front ranks of the archons. He offered a few of them praise and encouragement for their service. As the other angels landed near him, he began issuing commands. “See what we can do to aid those trapped within it,” he said. “And we must try to spare the beast too, if possible.”
    The other angels and their archon assistants nodded and began their work. The process of separating creatures from the bizarre fusing they had experienced required both physical and spiritual efforts. The celestial creatures would be at it for quite some time.
    A lantern archon appeared a pace away from Garin and
    hovered there. “My pardon, holy one,” it said, “but your attention is needed—”
    The glowing ball’s last words vanished in a roaring blast as wild magical energy surged through the forest all around them. Garin launched himself skyward as the ground tore apart. Curtains of color slashed across huge swaths of ground, shredding soil, tree, and creature alike.
    Not again, Garin thought as he maneuvered to escape the deadly fields of raw arcane force. Please, Tyr, stop this madness!
    Below Garin, several archons screamed and went silent. The rest managed to teleport themselves out of harm’s way. The rippling, shimmering walls of magic churned across the landscape, tearing apart the forest like some terrible multi-hued tornado. Garin sped away from what he thought of as the “edge,” where the astral shock waves slamming into the plane steadily consumed, bit by bit, the reality of the House of the Triad.
    Just as abruptly as the outburst began, it stopped. In its wake, acres of the world had been obliterated. Where forest once vanished into the haze of distance, it simply ended. A roiling, rumbling barrier of silvery-blue clouds shot through with crackling deeper blue lightning marked the border between the House and… whatever lay beyond.
    By Garin’s estimation, the forest ceased to exist nearly half a mile from where the portal to the World Tree once stood. The waves of energy had chewed up that much of the land. He hated to think of what the other side of the gate was like.
    If this keeps up, there won’t be anything left of the House, Garin thought. Surely Tyr must know this!
    A small voice in the back of the angel’s mind began to
    question whether Tyr was, in fact, capable of stopping the horrific waves of destruction crashing against the plane. Garin chastised that voice and silenced it. Tyr knows what he is doing, even if you don’t.
    Garin turned his attention back to the aftermath before him.
    Hound archons and other devas moved through the woods, seeking some sign of others in need of help. Based on the initial reports, they had lost several of their number— four or five hound warriors and two devas—as well as the corrupted bear.
    “Garin,” a voice called from behind him.
    He looked up and back and spotted the lantern archon. “Yes?”
    “As I was reporting before, your attention is needed farther south, along the Springflow Trail. It appears to be even more urgent now, after… that upheaval.”
    “I’ll get there promptly”
    A cry of agony rose up from the distance. The lantern archon vanished. Garin turned and sped in the direction of the forlorn sound.
    A hound archon had been caught in the whirlwind of magic. The tumult had melded him with a tree. His face, arms, and feet protruded from the warped, twisted trunk. The creature was still alive, but Garin was uncertain for how much longer. The tree had become animate and was expanding, threatening to engulf the archon, to absorb him.
    Angels and hound warriors worked feverishly to halt the growth of the tree and save their companion.
    “Take over here,” Garin ordered one of the devas. “I’m needed elsewhere.”
    The other angel turned his attention to the desperate rescue.
    “And be careful,” Garin added as he went aloft. “If another of those arcane maelstroms erupts, get everyone out