A/N: So, a shout-out to new anonymous reviewer Gemmi, whose review the other day reminded me that I had another chapter to post. It's been so long since I was posting anything close to regularly that it didn't really stick in my brain, I guess. Or my subconscious was just procrastinating because I haven't finished writing chapter thirty-eight yet. Could be that too. Anyway, thanks Gemmi, for both the reminder and for your very kind words. :)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

"These tunnels are filthy," Kharshai said with distaste, brushing a large amount of cobweb off of his robes.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Zemouregal replied acidly, "do you keep your secret way for people to attack you perfectly clean and welcoming?"

"No," Kharshai said, "because I prefer to avoid leaving people secret ways to attack me."

Zemouregal scowled. "You should be glad I never got around to fixing Lamistard's idiocy. If I had, we would have had to go through that mess outside to get into the fortress."

"It has been a long while since I was privy to such inane conversation," Guthix said, his tone neutral. "How much farther must we trek?"

It's been a long while since you've been privy to anything, you lazy sack of bones, Zemouregal thought, but all he said was, "No need to panic, we're almost there."

He wasn't wrong, and less than a minute later they were stepping over the disorganized scattering of stones and dirt that took up a small section of his basement. He really did have to wonder why he had never bothered to clean this up.

Too busy being amazing, he decided.

The sounds of battle could once again be heard now that they weren't underground, and along with them came the outraged roar of Bilrach's I-command-demons voice. Zemouregal had no idea who the recipient of the shouting could be, but he would bet they were probably wishing they hadn't done whatever it was they did.

Zamorak set his jaw and headed for the stairs. "Let's go get this mess sorted out, shall we?"

As it turned out, the recipient of Bilrach's anger was Hazeel.

"They have flaming catapults!" Bilrach was shouting. "Are you telling me there is nothing here that can combat those?"

"Bill!" Zamorak said, and even without shouting his voice still somehow carried forcefully across the room. Zemouregal had always been a little bit jealous of that ability.

Hazeel and Bilrach both turned toward them, shock on both of their faces.

"Where did you come from?" Hazeel asked.

Zamorak ignored him. "Bill, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Bilrach replied heatedly. "I'm defending this fortress from that rubbish, traitorous little worm of a murderer!"

There was a moment of silence as the newcomers absorbed that answer.

Finally, Kharshai said, "Who?"

"Lucien!" Bilrach bellowed, and a precariously-hung shield fell off the wall with a heavy thunk.

"Well, we're sort of on the same page," Zemouregal muttered.

Guthix stepped forward. "Lucien has not killed anyone."

"Recently," Zamorak added. "Why did you think that he had?"

Bilrach looked between them all, his gaze getting caught on Guthix. "Enakhra is dead. Lucien is here with an army. Do you mean to tell me that her death was not his fault?"

"That is correct," Kharshai said. "Sliske is responsible for her murder."

"Sliske and Khazard," Zemouregal corrected, still unable to think about either of the guilty parties without a hot flame of anger igniting in his chest.

Kharshai nodded, conceding the point. "Sliske and Khazard, yes. Not Lucien."

Bilrach looked at them for another long moment, his fingers twitching. After a while, he ground out a short, "Oh."

"You must call a truce," Guthix told him. "This battle must end."

"A truce?" Bilrach asked, his eyes lighting with indignation. "I don't think so. He is laying siege to this fortress and I am damn well going to defend it!"

"Hey," Zemouregal said coolly, "it's my fortress. Not really your problem, is it?"

"I was under the impression that it was our fortress for however long it takes to defeat Zaros," Bilrach said stiffly. "I apologize for doing my part in that."

"Yes, well, there's been a change in circum—" Zamorak stopped mid-sentence and looked around, an expression of annoyed confusion on his face. "Where is Zaros?"

They all dropped the current conversation to glance around in similar states of bafflement.

"Okay," Zemouregal said tersely, "how the hell did we not notice this before now?"

"I have no idea," Zamorak replied, running a hand over his face. "Now that I think about it, I don't think he or Azzanadra have been with us since Ardougne."

Before any of them could continue to comment on their own ridiculous obliviousness, the sound of a loud explosion rattled the walls of the fortress.

"What was that?" Bilrach asked thunderously.

He and Zamorak both headed for the front door, clearly intending to do something about the situation, but before they were even halfway there, the doors themselves slammed open.

"I have taken care of that asinine chaos outside," Zaros said, walking calmly into the fortress as though he hadn't just somehow disabled two small armies. He was followed by three Mahjarrat who all looked like they were quite confused but were pretending not to be, and one bound and struggling Lucien. "Shall we return to the matters at hand?"

The landscape of Freneskae was a bleak one. Sliske had hoped that his first impression was simply due to the Shadow Realm's inherent desolation, but once they exited it quickly became clear that was not the case. Their homeland had suffered since they had been gone.

"What happened?" Khazard asked, clearly very uncomfortable.

"How should I know?" Sliske snapped. "It should not even be possible for us to be here, so I would think it goes without saying that I have no more knowledge of the place than you do."

Khazard scowled, an expression that Sliske was beginning to think was his default. "Should we try to find… someone?"

"If you bothered to think about that for a moment," Sliske said stonily, "you would realize how idiotic of a question that is."

He found it interesting that he, who had been disconnected from his innate sense for thousands of years, had noticed the problem before Khazard.

There was no one else there. Not a single flicker of life force existed anywhere in that world.

Khazard's scowl shifted into something close to despair. "What happened?" he asked again, although this time it was much quieter and seemed to be more of a mechanical response than an actual question.

It had been a very long time since Sliske had considered the continuation of the Mahjarrat race a priority — he had done his part, and look where that had gotten him — but now, being confronted by the abandonment of Freneskae, an actual feeling of guilt began to creep up on him. Despite his certainty that travel back to their home world was impossible, he had never really felt the doom of being part of a dying race. He had never really thought he was part of a dying race.

Now we was faced the unfortunate reality that he was essentially responsible for genocide. Or was that the wrong word? It hardly mattered; 'extinction of his own species' didn't sound a lot better.

"It doesn't matter what happened," he told Khazard coldly. "There's nothing here. Our only hope now is that the World Gate is less broken from this side than it is from ours."

Without looking to see if his son was following, he set off across the barren rocks.

A/N: Reviews are what make me think this whole story is worth it. I love to hear from you guys!