*
Balan reappeared some miles distant, stepping out from around a corner in a long hallway leading to an open courtyard, deep within the palace at the heart of Vod’Adia. The hall was free of dust and gorgeously carpeted in long burgundy rolls with golden frills, and the walls were hung with rich tapestries, canvas paintings, and small statuary on shelves. The devil lord looked around at none of it, and his face was pensive.
“Poltus,” he said, then stopped walking as nothing had happened. Balan sighed.
“Poltus, Poltus, Poltus.”
A little devil about a foot tall winked into being, ochre-colored skin tight around its bones, naked and sexless. Sharp spikes ran down its spine to the tip of its tail, as long again as was its body. Its posture was bent as though it had been working at a very small desk, and it had a quill in one hand. As it started to drop toward the floor the little devil unfurled leathery wings like a bats’, and though they did not beat the air it hovered up to the height of Balan’s shoulder.
“Busy?” Balan asked.
“Forgiveness, my Lord,” the creature said. It had a wizened face with a long nose and two small horns. “There is much to be recorded, and most of your minions are in the field.”
Balan resumed walking, and Poltus bobbed along at his side.
“I need some research done,” Balan said. “From the old monkey books.”
“Humans, my Lord.”
Balan stopped again.
“What?”
“Humans, Lord. Monkeys are their genetic predecessors. The humans are the ones who can talk. And make books.”
Balan glared. “Do you know from whence I hail, Poltus? Originally?”
The little devil thought for a moment.
“I do, Lord Balan.”
“Then don’t you think I know the difference between a monkey and a human? I had two years of college, for crying out loud.”
“Yes, Lord,” Poltus nodded. “At what is called a ‘community’ college, if I am not mistaken.”
Balan raised a hand and pointed a finger in Poltus‘s face, but the little devil did not flinch. They had been going back and forth like this for centuries.
“You see, Poltus, it is that kind of smart-ass comment that makes you so popular with the other Spiny Devils. This is why no one wants to have a beer with you after work.”
“Yes, my Lord Balan.”
“Yes-my-Lord-Balan,” Balan mimicked Poltus’s exact voice, only making it more whiny.
“Go to the human books, you little dingbat, and find me all that is known of something called a Lamia.”
A scrap of parchment appeared in Poltus’s free hand and it scribbled with its quill.
“Is that a proper name, Lord?”
“Species. Native to this world, I am guessing.”
Balan sighed and looked down the hall to the courtyard. His guest was waiting, and though it was probably best that she was not left to her own devices, Balan’s regular duties during the time of the Opening should not be neglected.
“Is there anything of which I should be aware?”
“No my Lord,” Poltus said.
“What about that hard-core bunch of monkeys from south of here? The musketeers and mystics from Kwo?”
“They killed another sixteen demons, mostly Rutterkin and Dretch, though they did drop one Glabrezu. We have however allowed them to recover a bracelet of quite extraordinary value, and they have begun murdering each other for possession of it.”
Balan smiled in spite of himself.
“Nice.”
“Thank you, my Lord.”
“That is all?”
“All that you should be aware of, yes.”
Balan frowned. “There is something of which I should not be aware?”
Poltus looked uncomfortable, and Balan raised a hand.
“Never mind, don’t tell me.” He turned and took several more sparking steps before stopping a third time with a sigh.
“Just tell me this. Does what I should not know involve someone named Uella?”
“It does, my Lord.”
“Don’t tell me,” Balan repeated as he strode swiftly on, cursing the impatience of succubi in general, and one in particular, under his breath. That was what he got for using demons for devils’ work.
Before he reached the end of the hall Balan could hear an angry buzzing from the courtyard beyond. He rolled his red eyes as he stepped out to where his guest was waiting, and keeping herself amused.
The Great Black Wyrm of the Night Sky filled half the wide yard with her serpentine bulk, enormous leathery wings folded back along her body and her long tail lying casually along two walls. The tail was in Balan’s way as he passed through the door and he absently reached up to grab a bony quill as long as a sword blade. He yanked himself over the obstruction, dropping to a smooth landing on the flagstones and shooting up a spark from his hoof.
Far up ahead, the Great Dragon turned her magnificent head on its long neck and looked back down her own length at Balan, raising one stony ridge of scales like an eyebrow. The buzzing noise came from further along, where Balan now saw the Dragon had rooted a Chasme up from somewhere. The demon was a particularly ugly thing, built mostly like an insect with huge, multi-faceted eyes like a housefly’s set above a hooked nose and an oversized humanoid mouth, from which the angry buzzing emerged. It had six limbs, the lower pair bug-like legs, but the other four were brawny arms ending in clawed hands. It stood about eight-feet tall at the shoulder. Danavod had plucked off its wings and was batting it around the courtyard like a cat torturing a mouse.
“Did you just clamber over my tail, Balan?” the Dragon asked. Though her fearsome jaws did not move, Balan heard her voice as richly sonorous, with the consistency of honey. Her face, and whole vast body for that matter, were pitch black. Yet her eyes seemed darker still. They were set further forward on her head than a true reptile’s, and the scaly ridges sweeping back from her snout flared over the first joint of her long neck like a mane of bony armor, giving her whole face a vaguely leonine appearance. A single horn crowned her head and a large barb jutted forward like a leveled lance from either side of her sword-filled mouth. Balan had seen many beings of great power in worlds beyond this one, but nowhere had he seen anything to equal the sheer physical presence of a Great Dragon.
“Forgive me, your Majesty,” Balan bowed deeply. “I did not realize the area was sensitive.”
“A lady is always sensitive about her hindquarters,” Danavod said with a sniff. A puff of poison smoke emerged from her nostril.
The Chasme demon had noticed its tormentor’s distraction, and with a hornet buzz it charged, scuttling out from between Danavod’s front claws and racing across the courtyard at her body. Wing-stumps twitched and loathsome digestive juices burbled from its mouth. Where the drops spattered the ground they pitted the flagstones with smoking holes.
Before Balan could offer a polite warning the Dragon moved, and if at rest her appearance was magnificent, in motion she was as a force of nature.
Danavod got effortlessly to her feet, her whole vast body moving, impossibly, with the speed of a small darting animal. She rose and blotted out the sky as she shifted, allowing the charging Chasme to rush under her. Supporting part of her weight on her tail, Danavod swept a hind leg beneath her and impaled the demon on five claws each longer than a giant’s sword, like a soft piece of fruit on the tines of a fork. The acidic fluids within the Chasme spewed from its wounds and made the stone ground smoke, but they spattered off the Dragon’s claws leaving no more mark than would a summer rain.
Danavod pivoted in the courtyard, giving the impression that the whole world was spinning out of control. Her tail scraped along the walls with a sound like a wagon train rolling down a mountainside. She settled on her haunches, stretched her neck to look high over the courtyard wall, and with an indifferent flick of her hind leg sent the Chasme’s body tumbling through the sky to crash down on Vod’Adia’s streets blocks away
from the palace. Danavod settled down, cleaned her claws by shredding flagstones like tissue paper, and from a great height turned her head to look steeply down at Balan. Her movement had kicked up a swirling wind in the courtyard, and she waited for it to subside before speaking.
“Have you found the Wizard and the book?”
“I have not,” Balan said truthfully. It was not possible for any devil to tell a lie. Not a literal one, anyway.
“And your servants?”
“I have no word of such a discovery from them, your Immensity.”
Danavod lowered her great maw, stopping close enough above Balan that he could feel the inferno heat deep within her, oozing out of her noxious snout and from between her shark-tooth fangs.
“I do not again need to explain the importance of this task, do I?”
“Not at all, your Enormity. The Wizard of the Circle must in no way come near to the nodal port, lest he work some magic that might undo what the Witch King Kanderamath did here long ago. I assure you, your Greatness, such a thing is quite impossible without my knowledge.”
Something rumbled deep within the Dragon’s belly.
“Divest yourself of any diabolic scheming, Balan. You will recall that I know ways to kill you that will destroy you utterly, not merely banish you back to your own domains.”
“How could I forget, your Hugeness?”
Noxious tendrils of thick smoke, green in hue, drifted up from Danavod’s nostrils.
“What of the servant of my brother of the Blue Sky?”
“Found her, your Tremendousness. I personally gave her your message, explaining that her presence here is unnecessary, and bade her leave in peace.”
“So she has gone?”
“She has not gone,” Balan said. “Her party is a couple days deep into the city already. It is a long walk back to the gate.”
That was literally true, as was the fact Nesha-tari had told Balan she would leave only when she was ready. But Danavod had not asked Balan directly what was said.
Danavod gave a dismissive toss of her great head, and with another flurry of bows Balan left the courtyard by another long hall. He stepped well along it before allowing himself a broad smile.
The Great Dragon was afraid, and the fear of such a powerful being was intoxicating to the Devil Lord. The cyclical Openings of the Sable City had proven to be a great boon to the coffers of Danavod’s Shugak, and thus to her own hoard. Her agreement with Balan and his ilk had been of benefit to both sides, but it was ultimately of more value to the Dragon. There were plenty of ways for the devils to stake claims on the souls of those departing this world, and from many other worlds beyond this one. There were always more worlds, though there remained but one Hell.
Chapter Thirty-Six
The Sable City Page 78
