by M.C. O'Neill
***
Down in the leafy belly of the God’runn estate, Sammian and the maiden who was once Minn’dre Harvatt were playing a civil game of orb chess on the giant crystal ball screen. Not long ago, this very room set the scene which had hosted the final performance of the ill-fated Gonduanna Princes.
“Hmm…Knight to pawn two, I think,” Lucifer ruminated. “No! Knight to pawn five! Play!”
Sammian swirled the glowing round game before her and analyzed her boss’s last move. She surmised that she would have to start playing on a deeper layer if she ever hoped to win this match. “Rook to bishop twelve! Ha!”
“Not bad!” the dark lord complimented with Minn’dre’s lips. “Playing low I see. You give me a run for my gold here.”
“Yes, this orb chess is pretty capital like that,” Sammian decided as she spun the globe again. “So many levels and layers. We should definitely design one of these for imp chess when we get back home.”
“Agreed,” her master nodded. “Knight to rook twelve. Checkmate.”
“Blast!” the peri wailed. “I never lose at this! It’s just because it’s a different topology. I would have totally whooped you had it been a proper game.”
“Ah, but chess is chess, my love,” Lucifer lectured. “Dimensionality should not be a factor. It can just make for a longer game, unless you know what you’re doing, that is.”
“Thanks boss, I’ll remember that,” she lamented as her wings drooped in defeat.
Sammian had been fumbling at ways to drop the ball with her liege all day long. When he found out that there was some competition to his schemes, he’d be forced to play chess for real with the Adversary. Lucifer only liked clean and easy sweeps when it came to a plan and Mavriel’s arrival to this cosmic stage would put the screws to that idyllic condition for him. Everything had been going so well until today. Well, with the exception of that geek Travius and his inept assassination attempt.
“Eh, Lucifer?” she quipped.
“Yes, Sammian, what?”
“I think we have a real complication of our own now,” she winced by reflex upon delivering the dreadful preamble. She didn’t want to aggravate the boss, but he was at least in good spirits as he had won the chess game.
“Oh?” Minn’dre’s ears shot up for him. “Do tell.”
“Well, when I was at the Plaza earlier today, just roaming around,” Sammian bit her lip in thought. “I ran into an old friend of ours from…before.”
Lucifer rolled Minn’dre’s eyes. He was growing weary of Sammian’s bumbling. “Spit it out. Who was it?”
“Oh, just a little deva. You probably wouldn’t remember him,” Sammian flashed the boss a quick and nervous smile. “The one we called Mavriel back in the day.”
“Oh,” Lucifer rolled the name in his mind, trying to recall that one from the old choirs. Upon recollection, he shrugged his shoulders. “Yes, that one is just a mere footsoldier. Why, pray tell, is he here? You did get some information, yes?”
“I did!” Sammian announced with beaming pride. “Mavriel is on Earth to basically counter our plans,” she mumbled with lighting quickness.
Minn’dre’s head leaned in closer to Sammian as her tawny brows crunched down. “Sorry, Sammian, I-I didn’t quite follow. Did you say that Mavriel is squatting on a perch to count bananas? Because if that’s the case, allow him to go for it, by all means! Bananas are a nutritious and tasty food.” Lucifer was now grinding Minn’dre’s teeth as Sammian could feel the cold wave of hellish anger jump from her new master and into her nerves.
The peri looked down in fear and shame for her furtive blurting. “No, my lord. I said that Mavriel is here to counter your plans with Earth.”
“How does the little bird deign to do this, Sammian?” The boss was close, very close to his prospective ward. “I mean, Mavriel is no slouch, but he isn’t exactly a match for the myriad of demons we have in our employ. Explain.”
“It’s all asymmetrical,” Sammian waved as if it were of no care. “It’s only him and this ‘chosen one.’ Just a slip of an elfmaid to be exact. I’m sure we have nothing to fear.”
Sammian was testing Lucifer’s will and that was one infraction that he could not stand above any other. Secret societies and esoteric scholars of the infernal have written that he is insane, absurd, and operates without sense. Such accusations were the product of superstitious fishies and later, monkeys. The dark lord knew himself well and his machinations were not the chaotic whims these supposed intellectuals had surmised. Strategy and systems are his favorite ways to operate and even the most hermetic of plans could be felled by the force of a squeaking mouse such as Mavriel.
A growling from within Minn’dre’s guts was rising out of her sinuses as her body sidled-in ever closer to the peri. The elfmaid’s blue eyes went into a total blackout. Who…is…this…slip, Sammian?”
“Reyliss, my lord. Quen’die Reyliss is her name. S-She was applying for work at the docks.” The fallen erelim’s eyes were wide with fear and she made sure not to meet her master’s pitch-black gaze of scorn. To do so could put her into immediate punishment once she had fallen in full. No sentence in the Inferno was light or easy to sit out from what she was told.
Blue eyes returned to the possessed maiden’s face upon hearing Sammian’s intel. Lucifer smiled with the female’s lips causing Sammian to huff in relief. “Very well, Sammian. You did great work, my love, although I do wish you would have told me just a little bit sooner. From now on, you snitch and snitch and snitch the very second you hear something like this. Agreed?”
“Yes, of course!” the peri was still poised in a scared-stiff position.
“Well, I need to alert our fellowship now that this situation has presented itself,” Lucifer sauntered beyond the globe of the orbital screen. “I’ll have to bother my little sister now, I suppose. No, that won’t work for her. As if she doesn’t already have enough on her plate. We shall work this out ourselves with the help of the locals. I had better check this maiden out myself to see if this is reliable intel. You said she was applying for the docks, yes?”
“Yes. Um, what am I to do, my lord?” Sammian braved.
Lucifer turned around with a sharp speed. Minn’dre’s blond bang fell over half of her face and, for a moment, her splenetic scowl made her young face look like an old crone. He didn’t want Glasya meddling into this, and, as she was not much for adaptation, this twist would only fluster her.
“Quen’die Reyliss…,” he dug deep through the annals of his legions. “You will wait for my directive and you will execute it without hesitation when you are ordered. That is what you will do. For now, you will go to the Circle of Law. I think we may have an angle. Meet with an asura working there by the name of Quezz. When she hears the maiden’s name, she will know exactly what to do. I must leave you now as I have some business to settle.” With that, Lucifer glided down the hallway hewn from the tight and interlaced vines. Without skipping a step, he smacked down a vase lining the all-natural walls in frustration.
Perfect Prescription
THELEMEX™
“My dear people of Atlantis. I, Venn’lith Mitlan, as your Prime Warden of the Atlantean Youth Parliament have some great news for all of you! As we prepare our kingdom for an amazing journey through the stars, we need to prepare our bodies as well. Allow me to explain.
“The Taurian system is far away from Earth. Very far away. In order to reach these cosmic distances en mass, our most gracious arks employ a method of travel known as ‘vibrational attunement.’ ‘What is this,’ you might ask? Vibrational attunement is like a fold in space and time, much like the way our valiant godsrails work. The primary difference between our ships and these arks is the distance and number of passengers.
“Our nation’s celestianauts are the fittest of the fit and have undergone years of diligent training to survive a multi-million-mile trip to the ill-fated planet of our aggressors. As I vow that nobody in all of elfdom will be left behind,
our blessed friends of the Aldebaran Hegemony realize that not all of us are as strong as a celestianaut. Perhaps many of us are a little too old or a little too hefty, or you may even be suffering from a condition. This is not to be taken lightly as attunement can be rather harsh on the system.
“In order to combat the effects of this rigorous jaunt, we must prepare everyone and anyone with a simple solution devised and provided for by our Aldebaran friends. Thelemex™ is the answer to safely delivering each and every one of you to our new home.
“’What is Thelemex™,’ you may also ask? This is a potion made from an Aldebaran element known as ‘thelema’ which is entirely safe for the elven system. Day and night, Aldebaran scientists and alchemists have been working on developing an agent which is safe and efficient for all of us, no matter what our deficiencies. Believe me when I say this, these guys are always thinking ahead.
“To administer Thelemex™, all you need to do is swallow one pill of this remarkable potion and you will be fit as a fiddle to make that trip which is so vital to all of us. Master alchemist Prince Stolas informs me that it even tastes pretty good; much like grapes. That’ll go down well with the young ones, yes?
“Our Aldebaran allies will deliver a package of this potion to each and every one of your homes in the next few months. Be ready to receive it and keep it in a safe and cool environment so that it maintains its effectiveness.
“With such power comes great responsibility. The supply of Thelemex™ is limited, so remember to use it only when we are ready to attune on that terrific day in the month of Tenthmoon. This is a coordinated effort and on that brave and fateful moment in our history, we will be given the announcement to take this pill in unison, so that we can get on board to a wonderful tomorrow.
“The Princess Regent herself has ordered me to inform you personally that any attempt to indulge in this potion before we are directed will result in a harsh punishment. Every package of Thelemex™ is yours and yours only. I implore you; do not attempt to sell your package to anyone else. Such an infraction will also be punished with severity.
“No potion ever made is without side effects, so please listen closely to them at the end of this announcement. I assure you, Thelemex™ is generally not lethal and you will find its effects rather pleasant and totally safe.
“I, Prime Warden Venn’lith Mitlan, thank you for your attention and your support. I now leave you back to whatever broadcast you were enjoying, but it is my sworn duty to make certain that we all are prepared to make it safely and comfortably to our brand new home of tomorrow. With love, I present to you Thelemex™: the only choice for another day. Thank you.”
THELEMEX™
(Thelemex’s possible side effects include, but are not limited to: extreme drowsiness, catarrh, ear twitching, tingling sensations, “brain zap,” “wet brain,” nausea, loss of feeling in extremities, extreme flatulence, blurred vision, hair loss, acne vulgaris, skin discoloration, weight loss, weight gain, lupus, homicidal feelings, suicidal feelings, inability to digest citrus foods, feelings of inordinate rage, feelings of inordinate depression, breast and/or ovarian cancers, hearing loss. Pregnant females may experience miscarriage upon ingestion of Thelemex™. Children under the age of twelve are approved to ingest Thelemex™, but may develop permanent sterility later on. Instant death by spontaneous combustion in the elderly is entirely possible. It doesn’t matter, you have to take it anyway, so…)
Please remember to shop at Medimana™ for all your pharmacological needs! Serving you and your family for over five hundred fifty quality years!
I’ll Move for You
Bright blue light from Quen’die’s control halo guided the hulking extramaton with ease as she had been driving the thing on the docks for over a month. At first, the maiden was unsure of her ability as the buzzing feeling of being connected to this waldo was an odd extension of her nervous system, much like driving a coach. Unlike a coach, she had to use her whole body to make the iron beast do everything that she wanted. Dancing and swirling and pantomiming her desires triggered the golem to do precisely the same gestures with nary a lag. She was thankful for all her years of runta playing, as the job was quite demanding on the body and her natural agility had proved her expertise in a short time.
As far as she could tell by the shipping invoices submitted by the acting foreman, she was loading crates upon crates of that Thelemex drug onto ships bound for wherever and not much else. Whatever “thelema” was, it had to be terrible, as it was a “natural” ingredient mined in the arks by the infernals themselves. She vowed never to even touch one of those dreadful pills with her bare hands. Of course, Venn’lith’s constantly-played advertisement of the stuff assured the public that it was “totally safe,” but she knew from Mavriel that it was nothing but paralyzing dope that would render any elf unconscious in a matter of hours. Waves of guilt coursed through her heart as she knew that what she was loading to homes around the globe was nothing more than the gateway to hell. The feeling was countered by the faith that somehow, at some time; she was “chosen” to interrupt this process, but thus far, no signs had presented themselves. Each day was the same as the last as all she did was work in the beating-hot Sixthmoon sun and joke around with the Zobbos.
“Hey Red!” Face bellowed over to her from behind some thick netting. “Or should I say ‘Green?’”
Quen’die’s sensitive pearly skin required her to slather on a minty green sunshield each day to ward off an instant burn. Sedge hats were just not enough to combat the ever-shining light and heat as she was out in the middle of it for eight hours a day. The goop smelled like peppermint and after a couple of weeks of application before every shift, she just couldn’t fully wash off the scent. It wasn’t all that bad of a stink, but its intensity and candy-like odor was akin to a young maiden’s first perfume.
“Face, you call me ‘Green’ one more time and I’ll sic Jugger on you!” she shot back as she rolled her eyes. After such time on the docks, her attitude was becoming saltier and her skin thicker. There was no way an egotistical silver spoon like Venn’lith could survive one day amongst the Zobbos and the other dock workers as they were a rough lot and nothing but smack came out of their brave mouths. Respect was measured and earned by the smack given back. A sensitive type was an assured recipe for failure on the docks.
“All right, you win,” the Zobbo relented. “I don’t need a repeat of the last time you had to snitch to your golem.”
“That’s right, Face!” she laughed as she swung Jugger around to fetch another crate of hell-dope. “We thought you got washed away by the drink after he chased you off the pier!”
“Whatever, Dee, I could’a licked him if I knew how to drive one of those.” He made sheepish, puppy eyes. “It isn’t fair! You have too much of an advantage with the big lug.”
“Face!” Rob’yss Dell’lavio barked from out of the foreman’s shanty’s tiny window. A mere week ago, the elder Zobbo had been promoted to junior foreman and relished in the permissions to boss his younger brother around. “Get back to work! You have plenty of time to play with your novienne after the shift is over!”
To that, a chorus of hoots and whistles erupted from the other dockworkers. “Whoo-hoo! Go get her, Face!”
“All right, all right,” his younger brother waved off the catcalls with a blushing shake of his head as he swung himself out from behind the netting.
The Zobbo had to admit that he had been looking at Quen’die in a new light for the last couple of weeks. Until the recent past, he had thought she was a bit of a nerd, but she was winning his favor and fast since she knew how to put up and deal with his childish antics. She was becoming tough and he liked that about her, plus she was good at what she did to the point that it was frightening. It seemed to him as if she had been born with a control halo strapped to her red head. He confessed to himself that she looked pretty good in the flimsy wrangler robes, even if her skin was a bright green hue. Perhaps referring to her as his novi
enne for real one day wouldn’t be that much of a stretch, he thought.
The maiden brushed off the incident as she had Jugger stack more crates onto a large liner bound for Thuless’in. The sun was winding down to a salmon glow and that meant it was almost the time to punch out. As for Face, under normal circumstances, Quen’die might have entertained the idea of going out with him on a trial basis, but since the world was under demonic attack and she was one of the very few to realize it, those kinds of banal desires would have to wait until things got back to normal. Since no true signs of anything important had crossed her senses, she wasn’t sure that normalcy would ever present itself again. With each and every crate she stacked, and as each day came closer to Tenthmoon, the bad guys were nearing their sick victory. It made her ill to know that she was contributing to their schemes.
At quitting time, she parked Jugger with care into his upright sarcophagus in the golem shed and hung up her halo. Half a dozen of the iron beasts were standing at attention as each of the handlers had turned in their waldos for the evening. The crowded shed looked like a dilapidated museum full of immense statues from some forgotten civilization.
“Has anyone seen my sunshield?” Quen’die yelled out in the locker room. “Stop playing around, guys! You know I need it!”
“No, sorry,” a fellow handler by the name of Minnie blithely stated as she sauntered past. “Just go to the company shop and get some more. It’s not expensive.”
Whatever, thought the grey elfmaid. She didn’t like Minnie and thought she was downright strange ever since her first day on the job. She too was a recent acquisition on the docks and began her first day not long after Quen’die. The maiden figured they might have applied for the job on the same day over a month ago. She had admitted to knowing On’dinn Jak’sin and claimed they used to be friends, and Quen’die did recall him speaking about her once or twice.
Minnie was always brusque with her and a bit haughty, like she came from the beachside neighborhoods. The really odd thing about her was that she always seemed to be watching her. Quen’die couldn’t tell if she wanted to be friends, but was too shy to approach, or if she had some strange jealousy for her. So many maidens were like that. For no apparent reason, they got envious about something or other and wanted to fire up the drama. Minnie may have been sweet on Face and resented Quen’die because of his attentions for her, she guessed.
Either way, Minnie was terrible at her job, as if she was almost afraid of her golem. Perhaps she was sore at Quen’die for being so much better at her duties. Her natural ability with wrangling was common knowledge on the docks and the foreman loved her for it. He was almost like a surrogate father in her opinion and he even snuck extra rations onto her calorie card. The maiden figured that she deserved it since she had just made top loader for the month. It was nice to eat a decent meal once again and Nanna appreciated that as well.
As Quen’die drove home, she thought about stopping over at On’dinn’s. The elf had been rather scarce ever since the day of the job fair as he was supposed to have a position with the Sea and Shell working with a community food distribution for the Youth Parliament Program. Such a job was right up his alley as he was always going on about food for the masses and whatnot. Because they were both so busy as of late, it was a rare event that they spoke and Quen’die didn’t even have the opportunity to inform him that she was working with one of his friends.
When she came to the municipal checkpoint which blocked her entrance to downtown, she noticed the familiar auburn topknot of one of the wardens manning the portable station. It was Lauryl’la and she was out waving coaches into the city’s innards. Sitting atop the warden’s trailer like he had conquered it was one of the infernals. His wings were flapping with intermittent pulses in the evening breeze while he was carving a little statuette out of wood to alleviate the boredom of his duty. Quen’die was thankful that she didn’t have a bevy of those beasts supervising her job. It was almost as if they avoided the docks and none of them even delivered the crates of Thelemex to be shipped off.
Lauryl’la was taking the job seriously. Way too seriously. Coming from a police family, it was natural that she was the suspicious and skeptical type, but now that she was doing the police work herself, she was no better than the worst of the bulls. In the back of her mind, Quen’die was grateful that her father had chickened-out and decided against joining a civil cadre.
Ahead of her buggy, a fellow motorist hovered just a little too far past the security perimeter, only mere inches, and Lauryl’la slammed her truncheon down hard on its bonnet. “Get out! Get out of the coach now!”
Gods, thought Quen’die. This was not going to be good, as she could see that her old friend had let the power go to her head. Considering that she wasn’t in Lauryl’la’s peanut gallery anymore, the maiden assumed that tonight’s passage to her neighborhood would not be a quick and easy one. If Lauryl’la behaved that way once she got some responsibility, Quen’die felt a bit grateful that they weren’t friends anymore.
After Lauryl’la had let the shaken, pudgy motorist lined-up before her off the hook, he sped away in relief from the checkpoint and into the emerging lights of downtown. Quen’die felt a bit sick as she knew that an equal, if not worse, of a hard time was in the cards for her.
“Well, if it isn’t Quen’die Reyliss,” Lauryl’la groaned with some menace. With an almost immediate reaction, the demon on the roof of the trailer ceased whittling his new toy and stared the elfmaid down with intent upon hearing the bullock utter her name.
“Uh, Hey, Rylla,” Quen’die greeted with a nervous stammer.
“It’s Warden Hay’cenn to you!” Lauryl’la boomed with angry pride. “Where you going?”
“Well, Warden Hay’cenn, I was just going home to overdose on lotus juice, if it’s any of your concern,” Quen’die couldn’t resist giving Lauryl’la a huge slice of humble pie.
“Probable cause!” she barked. “Step out of the vehicle!”
What a total geek, lamented Quen’die to herself. Sure, they had played wardens and raiders back when they were little elflings and, to be honest, Lauryl’la was much more sensible about police work back then. This was going to be rich, thought the maiden.
“Got any dope? Any contraband? Anything that you could stick me with?” Her ex-friend interrogated as she patted her down. Quen’die didn’t know how to react to this revolting situation. She felt violated as the little bull was handling her in ways that was brutal and demeaning. It was most certain, such groping wasn’t government policy and the redhead was feeling even sicker the longer Lauryl’la continued the humiliating search.
“No boss, you’re gravy,” Quen’die moaned with sarcasm. She wasn’t about to let her old mate get the best of her. At least she wouldn’t let Lauryl’la know it anyway. It was quite apparent to Quen’die that she was getting her jollies by lording over not just a new rival but anyone.
“Ebolux! Check this buggy for lotus juice, please!” Lauryl’la shot up to the infernal who obliged in one literal fell-swoop off the trailer.
“You’re good to go here,” Ebolux confirmed with a perfunctory look in the buggy’s cabin. The demon flashed Lauryl’la a thumbs-up and power-jumped back onto his makeshift perch only to continue sculpting the little figure.
“Get out of here, and don’t cause any trouble!” Lauryl’la sneered. “And word to the wise, watch your lip with the wardens, Quen’die Reyliss!”
“Watch your lip, indeed!” the elfmaid chewed on Lauryl’la’s idle warning as she drove through the downtown neighborhoods. The traffic was backed up as always because of all the checkpoints, and those frequent stalls gave Quen’die plenty of time to think. Why could she not see her old friend’s potential for such a horrendous attitude before? The more she thought about it, Lauryl’la was rather pushy throughout the tenure of their friendship. Sure, there was a pecking order to all types of relationships between people, but she had always seemed to make sure that she secured the uppe
r hand over Quen’die in anything they had ever done.
Despite feeling beaten, the elfmaid felt sorry for Lauryl’la as she stood there barking like a loon in her red junior warden outfit with her inflated sense of purpose. Frankly, she thought, I’d rather wear green sun-goop every day and play with puppets than swirling around traffic checks with my little stick.
Staving off the brewing tears of resentment and pure embarrassment of that assaulting frisk, Quen’die steered the buggy down her home street and, at once, felt the warm glow of home wash over her. It would be so nice to just take the night off from any more worries and perhaps watch the screen with On’dinn and Nanna. When she considered that the screen played nothing but announcements featuring Venn’lith or newscasts praising the harbingers of elfdom’s doom, perhaps that wasn’t such a grand idea. Either way, work was as entertaining as usual and she vowed not to mope around because the petty tyrant had ego problems.
