The wind stilled with the break of dawn as if the very mountains were holding their breath. There were no clouds in the sky above me but a creeping grayness accompanied the sun as it peered over the horizon. Last night, the lava bubbling along the top of the mountain had looked menacing but under the soft orange glow of the early morning sun, Mount Smoke looked remarkably serene.

The others saw me looking out over the cliff to the dark lake and imposing mountain behind it. They did not say anything and walked up next to me. They saw the way the mountain jabbed into the sky with its thorny peaks. They saw the way it cut through the clouds at its precipice, skewering them like marshmallows. And when the sun began to climb and the valley and the surrounding mountains were awash with yellows and reds, we saw the way Mount Smoke stood up against the light like a pillar of darkness buttressed on the earth by a lake of ashy still water.

There was movement near the peak of the mountain. Lava lapping lazily at the edges of a crater, threatening to spill out. Clouds smashing into the rocks like waves against the shore. Beastmen scurrying about like ants around a tiny building at the very top of the mountain. The tiny building looked like a temple of some sort, not too dissimilar to Bek Tepe—the temple of the humans. I looked at Kelser and saw that he noticed the similarities too.

The similarities were not only because it was a temple built into a mountain, which meant one could see over its walls from the right position on the ground. Evidently, that position was from the other side of the mountain, because on this side, we could not see anything inside the temple apart from a couple of towers and spires that peeked out over the walls. There were beastmen guards in front of the temple, shuffling about as if looking for something. A few moments later, a larger group of beastmen came out of the temple, all of them in robes and from different tribes. Nothing the generals and the Council had said suggested there would be so many beastmen up at the temple. If we hadn’t found this spot to observe the temple, and if we didn’t have the spells necessary to observe from such a massive distance, we might have been caught by surprise once we approached Mount Smoke.

We might also have been caught by surprise by the large number of demons in robes moving in and out of the temple. I had been under the assumption that Alek Izlandi’s supporters had completely deserted him, but apparently he could still rely on some supporters. I glanced at Kol, and she was frowning. I also noticed these demons were wearing red robes while the beastmen were wearing silver. Perhaps these were the remains of the Evil Eye’s priests. I had rooted out most of them from the capital of the Izlandi Kingdom, but these must have come from other places.

For some reason, I wondered why there were no spirits or fairies among the priests up on the temple. After all, I could see a few beastmen wearing silver robes and some demons wearing red. Allegiance to an Immortal was not limited to a single race, so even if the Lux Republic had never worshiped an Immortal and had stood on its own feet instead of relying on a supernatural power, there should have been at least some who coveted the power of the Immortals.

I asked Taoc about that when we began walking down the path towards Mount Smoke. Taoc said the people of the Republic were proud and would not bow their heads to an Immortal. I countered that the demons and beastmen were proud people too, just look at how the beastmen had refused to tell us anything on our trek across their lands. She replied this was because they were loyal, not proud. I said that may be the case. I didn’t continue out loud, but in my head I wondered if there was something different about the fairies and spirits. Were they perhaps being supported by the Simurgh? No, if that had been the case, it wouldn’t have had to control them with its magic.

Kol wondered if there was something about the Republic’s social structure that made them harder to infiltrate and control. The Kingdom had a single ruler and a powerful aristocracy. Embedding priests into powerful positions the way they had placed Derek Inarian, the chief minister of the Kingdom, right next to the king, was the easiest way for the followers of the Evil Eye to control the Kingdom. Likewise, the beastmen were controlled by a small council of five elders. The beastmen were also far more religious and superstitious than the other nations, which meant it was easier for Madness to control them as well. Kelser added that there might even be something more going on. Perhaps Madness had shown off his power or influenced the council directly.

But the Republic was controlled by the Senate. I had learned this later, but even though all of the members of the Senate were spirits, there was actually nothing stopping the fairies from being elected to the Senate. Fairies, it seemed, simply did not like politics and spirits, on the other hand, seemed to love it. Over the years, this had led to issues, of course. There were moments where fairies were put into power to push back against perceived inequality between spirits and fairies, but at the end of the day, there were only a few spirits in the entire Republic. The spirits could not defeat the fairies and relied on their support to win their elections in the Senate, and the fairies did not like politics and weren’t any good at it either, so they were happy to let the spirits run the country. It was a strange system that made it difficult for any one person to ever be in complete control of the Republic. In fact, perhaps the only thing uniting the Republic and keeping them from disintegrating into a bunch of internal squabbles and disputes was the presence of the other nations and the threat of invasion. Nobody wanted to weaken the Republic if that would mean being ruled by a demon king or a council of beastmen.

Kol concluded, that this structure of government was what made it difficult for the other kingdoms to ever truly divide the Republic. Sure, they could sway a couple people to their side, plant some spies and engage in a little subterfuge, but when there was always more to gain, politically, by being against the other nations than to side with them, the Senate would inevitably end up united against them. Perhaps the other Immortals had also realized trying to control the Republic was more trouble than it was worth, and had merely left it at that.

Taoc agreed with Kol’s reasoning, but the two got into an argument over whose system was better. It was the demons, after all, who controlled the most resources on the continent. They also had the most powerful armies and by concentrating power into their monarchy, the demons had also achieved a reasonable degree of unity, even if that unity was easier to exploit because of a powerful nobility and succession crises like the one that had pit Kol and Alek against each other.

It was during this conversation that I remembered something. Didn’t Kol have another sibling? Alek had been supported by the Republic, and that had been where he’d fled to after his defeat. Kol had to cross the mountain to the lands of the humans, since she didn’t have anyone else to support her on this side. But Kol’s sister had sought refuge with the Singing Horde. During our journey through the country, there had been no mention of this demon princess, but now that we were here, right next to the temple on Mount Smoke and could see demons here on the enemy side, I wondered whether we would see Princess Norn Izlandi soon.

“Norn?” said Kol, “I would be surprised if she was here.”

“Is she not on the Immortals’ side?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” said Kol, “but I know she and Alek do not get along at all. If the two of them are working together instead of trying to kill each other, the Immortals must be holding their Ikons on a very, very tight leash.”

I nodded. Whatever happened, we would just have to deal with it. Our party of heroes descended the mountain and approached the dark lake. From up close, the inky blackness of the water was even more ominous. The path up to the temple atop Mount Smoke lay across the lake, and there was no easy way to cross it from the side. Instead, there was a rickety wooden bridge across the length of the bridge. The bridge was made out of a strange black wood, with tar and ash rubbed all over the ropes that bound the wood together.

I took one step on the bridge. It swayed in the wind and a piece of gravel fell into the waters below.

The water did not ripple.