“I, like you, Mistdreamer, am looking for revenge, and we three want that to happen to the right demon. Choose your battles wisely, Mistdreamer, and get your facts right before you go into combat, because if you follow the wrong path, you may find yourself causing more pain to those you sought to protect.” Baal chuckled. “I take it you do seek to protect, or are you here mainly because Lucias has some sick perversion to your kind?”
“I protect my king and queen, or would be doing so had Biorna not betrayed and ensnared me.”
“Think, Mistdreamer,” said Amdusias. He too was bored with this conversation. They had spoken of this to Cassiel on several occasions, but the glamour Lucias wore when he beat the man was powerful. “Why would Biorna betray you? Why would he want to incarcerate and torture you? What does he have to gain by this?”
Biorna had been raised in the palace of King Finvarra and Queen Oonagh of the Fae in Tír na nÔg. He had been left, as a baby, on the steps of the palace, and although a search for his family had been carried out, no trace could be found.
The king and queen raised him as their own, along with their sons, Biorna and Finn, and when he reached maturity, he had become the captain of the second guard. Their sons, Biorna and Finn, were lieutenants in the first guard.
As a friend and captain, he had gone on a trip with Biorna, together with his cousins Iuchar and Fiacha, nephews to the king and queen, who had trained with Cassiel and were now members of the guard. An expedition of research Biorna had called it. He was a thinking man, always researching in the hopes of improving the lives of the Fae.
The expedition, however, had ended in tragedy. Iuchar and Fiacha had been murdered by Biorna, and he had then chained and imprisoned Cassiel and tortured him daily.
These kings, however, were making him believe it was not Biorna who had committed the atrocities, but this Lucias. How was this possible? He had no knowledge of the demon, nor any idea to what end this could be.
“I think we’re getting through to him,” Amdusias said on a breath of satisfaction.
“About bloody time,” grunted Baal.
“I don’t believe you,” Cassiel complained, yet somewhere in the recesses of his mind, a chink of truthful light was breaking through.
Mairi whimpered again and began to sob.
“Tell her to stop that dreadful sound,” complained Amdusias. “It goes straight to my heart.”
“You have a heart?” asked Cassiel incredulously.
“Of course I have a heart. It may be black, but it still exists. Now and again I can feel something close to kindness, but truly, it’s not that often. I feel for this Mistdreamer, and for you. I doubt you have any idea why our mad little king has decided to use you in his wicked mind games.”
Cassiel sat upright, the pain in moving shooting through him, but he was interested to hear what the king had to say. He had been convinced throughout his ordeal that both kings Amdusias and Baal were crazy, but their words were beginning to get through to him, even if he didn’t believe them!
“Your mad little king? Would that be Biorna?” asked Cassiel.
“For the love of The Conjurer!” exclaimed Amdusias. “Will you get it through your head, your torturer is Lucias, not Biorna!”
“You keep saying this,” Cassiel replied angrily, “but I only see Biorna. It is he who tortures me. Who whips and beats me. It is only ever Biorna.”
Amdusias sighed resignedly. “For a Mistdreamer, you are beyond stupid. I’ve had enough of this discussion. If you cannot open your mind to the possibility you are being deceived, then stop speaking and go back to your rest, before our ‘leader’ comes and drags you away again.”
Amdusias was frustrated. Had he not been transformed into this hideous lump of stone, he would have zapped the stupid Mistdreamer back to the land of Fae and had done with it, but as it was, he remained in this form until released by another.
“You are from Tír na nÔg, are you not, Mistdreamer? You have Angel blood running through your veins, do you not?” Baal growled to prevent Cassiel’s response. “Ah, ah, ah, Mistdreamer, not yet. I am not quite finished.” He then continued slowly, as though speaking to a small child, hoping he would understand. “You. are. a. – Mistdreamer. You have knowledge of magic. Lucias. is. wearing. a. glamour.”
Baal waited for a few seconds, praying his words were getting through the Mistdreamer’s thick skull. Cassiel’s thoughts were running wild through his mind. Could it be possible that these kings spoke the truth?
He chanced a look at them. They were hideous. Their arms were wrapped tightly around their bodies, their legs tied together, and they were hunched in their small cages. What could they gain, he thought, from lying? Yet, his mind refused to allow the possibility of anyone other than Biorna carrying out the evil he had endured.
But… a small light of recognition was breaking through the dark, heavy clouds of illusion. It would get lost before he was able to grab hold of it, but it was there, opening the magic in which he was enmeshed.
Mairi whimpered again, and Cassiel was drawn to her. She moved slowly but was deep in mistdream. He doubted any of them would be able to reach her. Her face contorted, and he could see tears running freely onto the pillow she lay upon. Whatever mind games this Lucias was playing with her, were almost as bad as the beatings he was taking. He could escape them and try to heal in this cell, but by the looks on this girl’s face, she was in another type of hell.
“What say you then, Mistdreamer?” Amdusias interrupted his thoughts.
“I beg pardon?” he said, drawing his eyes from the restless Mairi. “What was it you asked of me?”
“How can you have forgotten so soon, Mistdreamer?” Baal asked angrily. “Are you willing to help us become free of this cell?”
“It depends upon what it is you expect from me. If I am to kill mortals on your behalf, then I would rather remain locked and beaten here.”
“Now hush, Cassiel,” said Amdusias. “We ask not that of you. We simply ask that you return to your land, with the witch’s help and our magic, then seek out Xaphan. Explain to him that we have been replaced by Lucias, and that whatever he intends to do, is without our consent.”
“So, you’re not really asking much of me,” Cassiel said sarcastically.
“Listen to us, Mistdreamer—”
“Stop calling me that!” Cassiel exploded. “The Mistdreamer Valerie called me the same.”
Amdusias and Baal both said together, “Valerie?”
“You have seen Valerie in mistdream?” asked Baal.
“She said I was wrong about Biorna.”
“And you will listen to her and not us?” Amdusias asked in surprise.
“I’m not listening to any of you where Biorna is concerned. That is something I will have to work through myself.”
“I think we have managed to break through his thick head,” said Baal, “but maybe with you carrying out our little task, you will be able to see for yourself. What say you, Mistdreamer?”
“I say… when do we start?”
“There is no time like the present. Let us prepare now for the journey you will take.”
Cassiel’s body began to grow weary, and he lay down, his mind a mass of confusion. He needed to sleep, but that would be an impossibility with the kings’ orders getting barked at him. He heard what he was to do, not to do, whom he should find, what he was to say. They droned on and on, and he was sure they would never stop with their constant commands.
“Did you understand everything?” asked Amdusias.
“Please, let me sleep,” groaned Cassiel.
“Sleep! You can sleep in safety when you have carried out our instructions!” shouted Baal. “Did you understand what we said? Answer, Mistdreamer, for we are about to put our plan into action.”
“Get taken to Tír na nÔg, find Xaphan and Seere, tell them of our mad leader’s plans, and then arrange your freedom,” he summarised. “That’s the gist of it, am I right?”
Amdusi
as and Baal tittered. “You were listening?” they asked together.
“Of course I was. I will appear dead, thanks to the witch’s magic and your cunning. Where do you think he will leave me when taken to my land?” he asked in painful whispers.
“Shh, Mistdreamer, he is probably nearby,” Baal insisted.
“He may not be near, but I definitely am.” King Flauros appeared before them. “I knew there was something not quite right about you two, inside the Throne Room. You seemed to be too ready to agree with everything the child that is Lucias had to say.”
“Have you come to rescue us, then?” asked Amdusias doubtfully.
“Of course… but not quite yet. I’d like to hear of these plans you have been making with the Mistdreamer. I could possibly be of some… help?”
“I think not,” said Baal. “Whatever we are planning to do is to help us, not you.”
“I may be able to help, and as I said, I will free you, just not yet. I don’t want either of you around while Lucias goes to war.”
“What?” Amdusias exclaimed. “Who does he war with now? Surely the Dark One will be displeased with another war, so soon after the last defeat?”
“He has his own reasons for allowing Lucias some rope.”
“Aye, he hopes he’ll hang himself with it.” Amdusias laughed.
“There is that.” Flauros laughed as well. “There is also the probability he is looking for another president of Hell, as he seems to be missing a few.” Flauros raised an eyebrow in query, expecting to hear an answer about Count Glasya-Labolas. He waited for a few seconds but realised no answer would be forthcoming on that subject. He would pursue it at a later time.
“He’ll never agree to becoming a president. Being the son of King Balam, he surely expects to take his father’s throne?”
Flauros walked over to Mairi’s cage, ignoring the question, and with interested eyes, scrutinised her with a leer. “Why is the Mistdreamer here?”
“She’s Lucias’s pet project at the moment,” Amdusias replied. “We have no idea the torment in which he keeps her, before you ask.”
“I have an idea,” Marchiosas said as he fluttered into the room, his wings retracting quickly in order to avoid being burned.
“Please do share,” Baal said through gritted teeth. “You have a ‘captive’ audience, so I guess we’re stuck having to listen to your thoughts.”
“Now there’s no need to be nasty, Baal. I was merely saying I have an idea of which torment he keeps the Mistdreamer.”
“Do we care, really?” Amdusias said incredulously.
“Well, if we want to win this war, it might be important for us to know where all the key figures are, don’t you think?” asked Flauros.
“Again… do we care? As you can see, neither I nor Baal will be taking part in any war, trapped as we are.”
Marchiosas stroked his newly grown beard and took a closer inspection of where he was. “What a state you two find yourselves in. Surely Flauros has agreed to free you?”
Flauros snarled at him in reply.
“Down boy, down boy.” Marchiosas laughed. “No need to get testy. Have you shared with them”—he indicated with his head to Amdusias and Baal—“our plan, yet?”
Flauros groaned. “I swear, Marchiosas, you get more like an old mortal woman every second that passes. No, to answer your question, I have not ‘shared’ our plan yet. I was hoping we would all be able to come to an understanding and work out what to do… together.”
“So that would be our plan as well,” interjected Amdusias.
“If it’s suitable, of course,” he said doubtfully.
Baal waited for a moment, and hoped what he was about to say would penetrate their limited understanding. “You do see the two Mistdreamers here?” asked Baal sardonically. “And the witch?”
“I am only too aware. The stench coming from every direction is testament to that fact. Please come to the point, and quickly. That madman will be here at any moment. After my last encounter with him, I do not wish to be in his presence for any longer than is necessary.”
Now, this definitely tweaked Amdusias and Baal’s curiosity. Lucias had somehow managed to irritate another King of Hell? He was doing his damnedest to separate and divide the kingdom by aggravating all the kings. However, Flauros was one of the calmest among them; how was it possible to have irked him?
“He has annoyed you in some way?” Amdusias asked, trying his best to keep the mirth from his voice.
“He held me in suspense as he extracted information.” His voice wavered on each word.
“Of which I agreed,” interrupted Marchiosas.
“Yes, he agreed, lending credence to my responses. However, I do not wish to speak about the incident. It is better that we discuss the problem at hand.”
“That problem is this: Lucias, the war, the Mistdreamers, the witch, or us, your fellow demon kings. Which of these do you consider to be a priority?”
No longer in a magic triangle, Flauros was able to lie, but he didn’t want to. It was imperative that the kings stood together against Lucias. It was necessary Amdusias and Baal stood with him on this, because there would come a time he would call on them to repay the generosity he had shown them previously.
“I will free you when the time is right, and we will work together on this.” Flauros stopped talking and motioned to Marchiosas. “Come, we must leave. I can hear Lucias returning.” He glanced at Mairi, then to Cassiel. “I will listen to your ideas upon our return. We may be able to put both plans into action and rid ourselves of this annoying gnat forever.”
With a flourish of his hands, he raised them upwards, encircling Marchiosas in his magic, and both figures slowly faded from the prison cell.
Xaphan entered Hell’s Cavernis Inferni and walked into the room the Infidelibus used for meetings to discuss the Mistdreamers. The Cavernis were neither Heaven nor Hell, and so long as the Almighty’s name and the King of Hell’s name were not uttered, those who met would not be discovered. They had managed for hundreds of years to go unnoticed, but their group was dwindling, now that Forcas had left to marry the Mistdreamer Lauren. Kakabel, the Angel of the Moon and Stars, had been killed in a battle Lucias had begun, and he too now found himself a mortal, living with Forcas, Lauren, and their twin boys.
Seere, another member of the Infidelibus, like himself, was playing both sides. A very dangerous game, but he reckoned Prince Seere, in his form of King of the Dragon, would be a fair match for Lucias. He was guarding Valerie, and Xaphan dreaded telling his friends—because he now considered they were just that—what he had done.
He immediately saw that the rest of the Infidelibus, those left within the group, were waiting for him, and he had much to tell them. His shoulder was aching, a festering wound was giving him more pain than he had imagined possible, and blood was dripping from an infected gash on his forehead. He had been with the Malum Reges, in the Throne Room of Hell, when Lucias had become irate and attacked him. It had been a deliberate attempt at humiliating him, especially when the answers to his interrogation were not as Lucias had expected. He had lashed out at Xaphan, taking enjoyment in the pain he knew he had administered.
Archangel Omniel and Ambriel, the Angel of Communications, conversed, while Ramiel and Adramelechk stood nearby. Sammael was looking on suspiciously, which was his character. Forcas was no longer part of the Infidelibus and had taken human form when he married Lauren, and Prince Seere was guarding Valerie. Although they were supposed to be in hiding, it was now in the open where they were, and no thanks to himself, now the mad Lucias knew.
Xaphan searched around for Appoloin, but figured he was in the safe area he had removed to with Mairi, and then he remembered the chilling last words Lucias had said to him as they parted. Adramelechk, walked towards him. He was about to speak to them when Omniel noticed his wounds.
“Say, who did this to you, Xaphan?” he asked and lay a finger over the wounds, removing the poison and healing the gashes
.
Although grateful for the relief from the pain, he asked Omniel to return the cuts.
“Why say you this, Brother Angel?”
“Because I have to return to the Malum Reges in Hell, and that crazy bastard will notice if I return without the gifts he imparted on my body when he didn’t like the answers I gave to his inquiry.”
“What questions did they ask?” demanded Archangel Omniel, who had become a member of the Infidelibus when Forcas had made a home with Lauren on Earth’s plane.
“Lucias mainly questioned me on my knowledge of the Mistdreamers’ whereabouts,” he answered.
He continued with his report, informing them that Lucias had not been content upon hearing his answers; mostly, he reckoned, because he did not fully trust him, whereupon he had asked Flauros and Marchiosas to bear witness to his responses.
“Why would he do that?” asked Ambriel.
“They can determine whether I lie or not. Their gifts discern the truth. They are very powerful demons, and Flauros, especially, was interested in what I had to say.”
“I told Lucias that I had found the Mistdreamers.”
“For the love of G—” Ambriel said.
A yell from the others stopped Ambriel from finishing the word.
“Like I said, I told him I had found the Mistdreamers, and was immediately called out for the lie it was.”
He then continued with his report, and the strange change that had come about Flauros and Marchiosas when they deliberately misled Lucias. He had waited to be called out again for another lie, but instead, they both agreed he was telling the truth.
“Why would they do that, if they knew it was a lie?” asked Ambriel.
“I have no idea, other than they have designs on the Throne of Hell and probably want to get rid of the crazy Lucias.”
“I have to apologise,” he went on. “I must seek your forgiveness, and you will, I know”—he glanced over to Sammael, who had already begun to tense—“understand how difficult that is for me to ask.” He was devastated and knew the outburst that faced him. He would find himself back in the shadows of suspicion, and they would not trust him. “Unfortunately, I let it be known that the Mistdreamer Lauren was on Earth, while the other Mistdreamer, Valerie, was in Tír na nÔg.”
The Park Family: Mairi: Retribution Page 20
