The Crystal Mountain by Thomas M. Reid

cramps wracked her muscles, and she nearly curled into a ball from it, fighting the urge to retch. She panted from the agony. She thought of releasing the arcane energy in order to bring blessed relief. Can’t let them fall, she thought, gritting her teeth and fighting the urge.
    Micus soared past Aliisza on his mismatched wings. He glared at her, hatred filling his eyes. He still had Myshik’s powerful war axe, and he gripped it tightly as he swooped by. Aliisza watched him bank into a wide turn. He was coming around for another pass.
    To her left, a tremendous splash threw inky water in a torrent into the air. Some of the cascade drenched Zasian and the others. When the waves subsided, a great mass floated within the darkened sea. Aliisza thought it looked like a huge man, but she couldn’t take the time to get a good look at it.
    Kaanyr, hovering upon his own innate magic, descended into view near her. “Can you get them to shore?” he asked, pointing.
    Aliisza looked to where he indicated and saw a rocky stretch of gray beach not far from where they all hung in the air. Fighting the exertion of maintaining her magic, she nodded. “Just keep Micus away from me,” she gasped.
    She guided the invisible platform toward the beach. Zasian crouched upon it, hands and feet splayed apart for balance. He looked at her, wide-eyed with fright, then he whipped his head around, staring at everything else. The three prone figures remained sprawled at his feet.
    Kaanyr unfurled the magical cloak he had acquired in Dweomerheart and pushed himself forward into flight. He angled his direction to head off Micus, who had climbed to a higher altitude and was starting a dive toward them. Aliisza wanted to watch the impending clash, but the pain racked her body too much. She clenched her eyes shut to fight it and focused all her concentration on getting the rest of them to safety.
    Flying behind her conjured conveyance, Aliisza steered the magical surface to a bare spot of beach and set it down as gently as she could. Even with her efforts, though, her control faltered from the pain and sickness she felt, and the arcane platform winked out when the figures upon it still sat a few
    paces in the air. They all went tumbling to the soft sand in a heap.
    Aliisza dropped to the beach nearby and crumpled, retching. Gods and devils, she thought as she emptied her stomach. Must… never… do that again. She panted for a moment until both the pain and the ominous blue glow subsided. When her stomach ceased heaving, she flipped over onto her back and caught her breath, staring up at the carmine sky.
    Blood red clouds roiled across it, churning and obscuring whatever sun lit the place. A hot, foul wind blew over the gray sand, carrying a stench of something decayed with it. A vague sense of distaste, something strange yet oddly familiar, filled Aliisza’s senses.
    Kaanyr settled to the ground beside her and furled the magical cloak. He knelt down next to her and placed his hand upon her shoulder. “You look awful,” he said, his tone gentle. “There’s something you are not telling me, Aliisza. What is it?”
    Aliisza shook her head. “I’ll be fine,” she said, surprised at how weak her voice sounded.
    Kaanyr’s face grew stern. “Don’t lie to me,” he said. “This strange power of yours is killing you. I want the truth.”
    She tried to give her consort a defiant stare, but his expression never wavered. “Very well,” she said at last, closing her eyes in defeat. “I’ll tell you what I can. Just let me rest a bit, first. What happened to Micus?” she asked, changing the subject.
    “Gone,” Kaanyr replied, “but not for long, I fear.” “Good,” Aliisza said, thankful for even a brief chance to rest. “Just give me a moment.”
    “We may not have a moment,” the cambion said.
    When Aliisza opened her eyes again and looked up at him, Kaanyr was staring at something in the other direction, down the beach. She stood and