The Heavenly Host (Demons of Astlan Book 2)

by J. Langland

  Tom shook his head; this did not make a lot of sense. He needed to sort this out, probably with Antefalken or someone else who understood demon physiology. Clearly not Tizzy, though. However, this was not the time; they had a hunting trip to plan.

  ~

  Bess took a sip of Denubian Choco-CoffeeTM and sighed. “Complications, complications.”

  Astet chuckled. “Who was it that liked to warn everyone about how lies and deceptions end up entangling one more than chains and ropes?” Astet was drinking iced tea, which she had to work to keep cool in her hand as they were sitting in a rooftop “garden” in the outpost. The plants that would grow in the Abyss were extremely odd plants.

  As a goddess associated with Air, she had no problem summoning a nice breeze, but all the air in this quite literally god-forsaken hellhole was insufferably hot. One reason she did not come down here that much. Upon reflection, she supposed the very existence of the outpost meant the place was not completely god-forsaken, but it was still a hellhole.

  Bess chuckled. “Yes, it was me.” She shook her head. “Those stupid Oorstemothians! Who would expect them to record the whole thing? And capture us on the carpet?”

  “Times, they are a changing.” Astet shook her head. “When we were in Astlan officially, such wizardry did not exist yet.”

  “I know; it’s one of the things so many of us prefer about the magic-based worlds over the tech worlds. If there is no visual or audio recording of an event, it’s a lot easier to tell one group one thing, and another group something else,” Bess said with a smile. She had always been big on being up front wherever possible with people. Which is what made her current situation so ironic.

  “Takes some of the fun out of godhood, doesn’t it? You lose plausible deniability for mysterious actions and such,” Astet remarked before taking another sip of her super-chilled iced tea.

  “It does sort of put a damper on ‘working in mysterious ways,’ ” Bess agreed.

  “So,” Astet said, “now you have to pretend to be a mortal wizard in Freehold?”

  “It’s looking that way.” Bess shook her head. “Exador wants us all to show up and demonstrate our humanity.”

  “And how do you do that?” Astet asked.

  Bess shrugged. “I have no idea what Exador plans. Perhaps have them put the wards back up?”

  “But didn’t that cause you all flee the city?”

  Bess chuckled. “It caused them to flee the city, and it did rattle my sinuses, making me feel quite twitchy, along with a nasty headache. However, I was able to locate the source very quickly and surmised what was happening. Being the consummate actress, I simply played along with my cover story.”

  Astet laughed. “That, I will grant you, is one of your skills. I would lose patience, break character and smite those two buffoons.”

  “Well, I guess it’s good that I took on this task.” Bess grinned.

  “So you are to be a goddess pretending to be an archdemon pretending to be a human?” Astet shook her head from side to side. “Those tangled chains of lies again.”

  ~

  DOF +7

  Dawn (Murgatroy Time) 16-04-440

  Tal Gor tossed restlessly on his sleeping mat. He was still a bit freaked out by his nocturnal experience. Once he had woken from dream walking last night, he had put the talisman on a small tray beside his bed and prepared to bandage his hand. However, he had quickly discovered that the cut was healed and that the palm of his hand was now scarred with what appeared to the same image as the talisman. The ridges of the scar appeared well healed, as if he had had it for years. He shook his head and looked at the talisman. The formerly worn imprint on the stone appeared new and fresh in the candlelight of his tent, rather than worn and old, as it had before his dream walking.

  Tal Gor had hurriedly left his tent to tell Horrgus about his experience, but the old shaman had been passed out drunk on his cot. He had then gone to the main fire, where several warriors were still talking and drinking, and tried to tell them about his dream trip, but they had all laughed at him. They insisted he had fallen asleep and had a normal dream, and that he should go back to bed.

  It was late and he had been tired, so he had gone back to bed. He needed to think about the events anyway. He supposed it made sense that none of the younger warriors would believe him; he could not really believe it himself. Tal Gor finally sat up. The light of predawn was seeping in through the loose closure of his tent flaps. He crawled over to the water bucket; the tent was so small there was no real point in standing up to get to the leather bucket’s tripod.

  He grabbed his washrag and dunked it in the water to wash the sleep from his eyes and the dried sweat from his body. As he was doing this, his left hand began tingling.

  “Greetings, Tal Gor El Crooked Stick!”

  This was weird; Tal Gor could hear Lord Tommus in his head!

  “Are you ready to hunt? You may select a total of twenty of your best hunters to join Commander Vespa Crooked Stick and her hunting party. Since the party flies, we will bring D’Wargs for your selected hunters to ride on the hunt.”

  “Hunt? Ah, I had no idea it would be so soon—I need to gather hunters!” Tal Gor exclaimed in his head.

  Lord Tommus grinned in Tal Gor’s mind. “Our hunters are gathering now. They have not been hunting in a very long time and so are anxious to enter Astlan. Make sure you have a good-sized fire going and make room around it for us to come through. I will be reaching out to you shortly to open the gateway!”

  Tal Gor raised his eyebrows in surprise, scrambled from his tent, and hurried quickly to the main campfire, where the band was gathering to break their fast. “Everyone! Listen!”

  “Still talking to your dream gods, Tal Gor?” his brother Fel Nor teased him with a broad grin.

  “It’s no dream! Lord Tommus and his D’Orcs want to hunt! They are coming soon and twenty of our best hunters are invited to hunt with them!” Tal Gor exclaimed.

  Horrgus turned and gave him a bleary eye. “What are you babbling about, boy?”

  Tal Gor quickly recounted his experience last night for the tribe members who had been in their tents when he had told people last night. He could see people rolling their eyes at his story. Clearly, no one believed him any more today than the group late last night had.

  Sal Gor, his father, shook his head. “Tal Gor, did you hit your head or something? You are making no sense.”

  “It is real, father, I swear! You will see shortly when Lord Tommus brings his hunting party here! They are also going to bring D’Wargs for our hunters to ride today.”

  “D’Wargs?” His older sister Soo An asked.

  Tal Gor shrugged. “I assume they are demon wargs. All I know is that the hunting party will be flying and so they need to bring flying mounts for our hunters!”

  Bor Tal, his oldest brother walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “We need to check you brother, perhaps you were bitten by a viperclaw? Its poison causes false visions.” He gestured to Tris An, his aunt the band’s healer, to come over.

  “I was not bitten! I am telling you, Lord Tommus is the ruler of Mount Doom and the heir to the mighty Orcus!” Tal Gor tried to explain. At this point, even Horrgus was rolling his eyes in disbelief. Tal Gor shrugged off his brother’s hand and marched up to the main fire.

  “You need to listen! Lord Tommus will be coming soon, and his hunters shall hunt. We have an invitation for twenty hunters to join them. This is something that hasn’t been seen on the plains of Norelon in thousands of years!” Tal Gor told them, turning around to face the gathering band. At this point most of the band had come out of their tents to see what all the commotion was.

  Horrgus shook his head and then winced. He came over to Tal Gor. “Come, boy, let’s go back to my tent with Tris An so we can take a look at you for bite marks.”

  “Why don’t you believe me?” Tal Gor asked, annoyed.

  “You do understand this is a bit farfetched, yes?” his fa
ther asked him.

  “No. I am a shaman and I am sworn to Lord Tommus, see?” Tal Gor stuck out his palm for people to see the scar. Horrgus stared at it, as did Soo An. His father also came closer to look.

  “That’s a fully healed scar!” Horrgus said, rubbing it.

  “It looks like it’s been there for years,” Soo An added. “But I’m sure I would have noticed you getting that scar. It’s also an odd scar.”

  “It mirrors the image on the Talisman of Tommus!” Tal Gor said.

  “The Talisman of Tommus?” Horrgus asked.

  “Well, it used to be the Talisman of Orcus, but since Tommus replaced him…” Tal Gor trailed off.

  Horrgus shook his head. “You know those stories are myths? I know you’ve always been fascinated with the dead god and tales of glory, but at this point they are just tales.”

  Tal Gor shook his head. “No, they are real, and there is going to be a hunting party, today!” Tal Gor could see several heads shaking in disbelief. They thought he was crazy. Suddenly his hand ached.

  “Ready to open the gate?” Lord Tommus asked in his head.

  “I am not having a lot of luck getting others to believe me, My Lord,” Tal Gor replied.

  He felt the demon lord grin. “Their belief is not necessary; reality should be sufficient. Go to the fire and thrust your hand with the scar into the flames. You won’t get burnt.”

  “Boy?” Horrgus asked the zoned-out Tal Gor.

  “He’s coming. They are coming, now you will see!” Tal Gor shook off their concerned hands, ducked around them and walked as quickly as his leg would let him to the central fire. He thrust his left hand into the flames.

  “Tal Gor!” His mother yelled, thinking he had lost his mind.

  “Lord Tommus, Master of Mount Doom, come now, enter our world of Astlan! Bring forth your hunting party!” Tal Gor shouted. His brother Bor Tal moved towards him to pull his hand from the fire; yet even as he did, the large campfire burst into twice its height, completely engulfing and obscuring the grate with the porridge pot on it.

  “My porridge!” Toth Bagg the cook screamed in concern.

  The flames continued up and up, overflowing the rocks of the fire pit. The fire was now roaring far louder than should have been possible for the amount of wood present. It was bigger than the largest bonfire Tal Gor had ever seen. Suddenly, the middle of the flames seemed to tear, ripping open into another reality. There was a giant, one-sided hole in the flames! Nearby orcs scrambled to peer into the tear in reality.

  Through the hole, one could see what looked to be a large staging area, crowded with a very odd assortment of large, winged orcs with supersized tusks and hooves. There were also what looked like a bunch of huge wargs, also with wings and tusk-like fangs.

  Suddenly the large head of Lord Tommus popped through the hole from one side, and then his entire huge body stepped through into the camp. He grinned down at Tal Gor, or at least Tal Gor hoped it was a grin. “Thank you, shaman.” He surveyed the band and the camp, his eyes narrowing slightly, most likely at the rather sorry sight the band presented.

  “I am Tommus, Master of Mount Doom,” Tommus announced in his booming voice. Tal Gor had to clench himself; the demon lord was far more terrifying in person than he had been in his dreams. “Mount Doom is preparing for a feast and our hunters need to hunt in the Planes of Orcs once more.” He looked around to the various warriors of the band. “In exchange for the assistance of your shaman”—he gestured to Tal Gor—“we invite twenty of your tribe to hunt with us.” He looked around, obviously noting that none of the tribe were geared for hunting yet. Tal Gor hung his head at his failure.

  Suddenly there was movement at the hole as a woman stepped through into the camp. Tal Gor had to blink. Wow! he thought to himself. She had to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Okay, so she had wings and hooves, but was she ever gorgeous! Tal Gor looked around and noted that he was not the only man in the camp staring at her. He had heard humans call certain women breathtaking, all orcs had, but this had to be the first time he had ever seen a woman who could literally be said to take one’s breath away.

  “Allow me to introduce my commander, Vespa Crooked Stick,” Lord Tommus said.

  Crooked Stick? Tal Gor felt his heart thud. This incredible D’Orc woman was blood? How had Crooked Stick blood ever created something like this? He could see several other men shaking their heads with the same thought.

  “Shut your gaping holes, morons!” Vespa yelled to the men of the camp whose mouths were open. “You look like you’ve never seen a woman before!” She scowled in disapproval. “I could have gutted each and every one of you vermin by this point.” Tal Gor noted several warriors uncomfortably adjusting their loincloths or pants, depending on what they were wearing.

  “Now, I see none of you so-called warriors is ready to hunt.” She shook her head. “Understand this: you are of my tribe. If you ever ignore the instructions of Lord Tommus’s shaman again, you will answer to me. Is that clear?” Several of the warriors nodded; others mumbled acknowledgements.

  “I can’t hear you, worms! I asked you a question; I expect an answer. Fail me again, and I will beat you into a coma that will last a quarter month!” Vespa snarled.

  The band members answered affirmatively this time with “yes, ma’am,” “yes, Commander,” and other similar verbal responses, many of them quite enthusiastically. Tal Gor had to admit, this woman was an old-style leader, and her charisma and leadership style clearly matched her beauty.

  Vespa nodded and glanced to Lord Tommus, who nodded approvingly. Commander Vespa gestured towards the hole for others to come through, and suddenly people had to scramble to make room for the large D’Orc warriors decked out in their hunting gear to come through the inter-dimensional gateway in the middle of their cooking fire.

  Tal Gor counted twenty D’Orcs of various ages and bloodlines, some of which he had never seen before. The two tall, thinner, pale white orcs with red eyes were particularly unusual.

  “This is Virok Soul Wrecker of Erdnalia III on the Visteroth plane. He is our huntmaster today.” Vespa gestured to the older of the two tall, pale orcs. “In matters of the hunt, his word is my word and law. Do you understand?” She glared at the Crooked Stick orcs.

  “Yes, ma’am,” or some variant was heard from each member of the tribe.

  “As I’m sure you are aware, Tal Gor shall be selecting twenty of you to join us on this hunt.” Vespa grinned. “I’m sure many of you will be regretting your failure to trust his word earlier. Try not to sob too hard at losing out on what will certainly be the most glorious event in all of your lives to date. If you aren’t chosen, that means you’ll just need to prove your worth to our shaman before we return to hunt here again!”

  Tal Gor tried to suppress a joyous grin and look properly annoyed. This was clearly the best day of his life; he certainly did not want to show it!

  Chapter 103

  Talarius woke with a start. What time is it? he wondered. It was dark in the room, of course; there was no window and he had been lighting the room with his armor, which had gone out once he fell asleep. He willed the armor to light and began to get dressed. It was somewhat disturbing to note that his padding was completely dry. The air in the room was a bit dry, at least compared to the rest of the mountain complex since the rain had started. It was not, however, dry enough that his under-padding should have dried out within a few minutes.

  Talarius walked over and dragged the giant wardrobe away from the door as soon as he was girded with his various vestments, armor, weapons and accouterments. Even with the strength boost he got from his gauntlets, the dresser was heavy; the very reason he’d used it to block the door. He opened the door and walked out into the main room to see daylight streaming through the balcony doors. The octopod and Boggy were playing some card game, Antefalken was perched on a chair back, oiling his harp, and the other demons were off somewhere.

  “Well, if it isn’t sleeping
beauty?” Tizzy asked or perhaps stated, grinning maliciously at Talarius.

  Talarius glared at the demon through his helmet. Apparently, the demon somehow knew he had fallen asleep without his armor and was intent on irritating him.

  “Where is everyone?” Talarius asked, ignoring the demon’s jibe.

  Boggy looked up. “Rupert is off with Fer-Rog somewhere; Tom is with his commanders arranging hunts for the feast; and Reggie and Estrebrius are still in Astlan as far as I know.” By coincidence, even as Boggy spoke, Reggie materialized in the room, sighing and quickly sitting down.

  “Rough night?” Tizzy’s eyebrows were making those obscene leering motions again. Talarius found this exceedingly discomforting. Not that there was anything particularly comforting about the vile multi-pod; however, this was even more disquieting than his usual behavior.

  Reggie closed his eyes. “Yes, more dream sex training. I am not enjoying it.”

  Tizzy shook his head as if not understanding. “Kids today! In my day, it was all sex, drugs and rock and roll! What has become of this new generation?”

  Reggie glared at him. “You are a twenty-plus-thousand-year-old demon. How do you even know about rock and roll?”

  “I used to party with Keith Richards every time he came to the astral plane, which was quite often,” Tizzy said.

  Reggie shook his head, clearly not sure who that was; Talarius certainly had no idea.

  “What I want to know,” Boggy interrupted, “is how do these wizards know how to train an incubus? Doesn’t that seem a bit odd?”

  Antefalken looked up. “A bit; however, it’s not impossible. Wizards and animages have employed both incubi and succubi for centuries. While I am sure it is not taught in any normal schools, the knowledge is probably out there.”

  Boggy shrugged. “Where is your accursed master? Do you know?”