by Langland, J.
Not much, uhm, let me think...just normal spell components that a journeyman wizard might have, no spell books, but oh, yeah, a small red diary that was magically locked. Strange sort of.
Magically locked book? Exador went deathly still. His anger was forgotten. His mind totally fixed on what Treledor was saying. Did you try and open it? Determine anything about it?
Well, yes, but it was a really strange spell, none of us could figure it out. Certainly something more powerful than any journeyman should be able to cast. That's why we think she was Jehenna.
Praise be! Praise be! Exador thought silently to himself, he was almost jumping up and down. The book! The damn book was in his hands! It had to be! Here it had fallen directly into his hands. Surely, fate favored him! He was jumping up and down, plans running through his mind. His! All his!
Don't touch that book! I will be right back for it. I think I know what to do with it. Exador admonished. He had to be careful, he couldn't make it sound too important until he had it in his own physical hands. He couldn't wait. He had to remain calm he told himself.
Well...you know...that's the funny thing, Treledor commented. Exador went cold, very cold. Treledor continued on, oblivious, the book seems to have disappeared in all the confusion. Maybe the demon got it...
Many miles away, for the second time in as many days, there was a large explosion in the field where Lenamare's school had been. For the second time in the same evening, tents became raging bonfires. This time it started with the tent of the wizard Treledor. It had suddenly burst into a giant incandescent ball of fire. The fire had been so intense, in fact, that it melted the soldiers in the adjacent tents. A bit further away, Major Zachs was glad he hadn't been the bearer of bad news. He was not, however, looking forward to Exador's return.
Chapter 45
The psuedo-sunlight of the Courts' version of morning was shining through the windows of the tavern in which Antefalken sat. He was seated in the corner of one of his favorite taverns on the outskirts of the Courts sipping a fresh hot cup of Denubian Choco-CoffeeTM. It was a nice morning, as such things went in a land with no sun. The Courts of course, for the comfort and amusement of most of the inhabitants, had periods of light and darkness, but these were completely artificial, imposed by its rulers. It had now been light for several hours and Antefalken had taken his leave of his evening host an hour or so ago.
While the night had been not as satisfactory in terms of information as he’d hoped, it had not been wholly wasted. Lilith was always enjoyable. It wasn't often that he got to be with 'an older woman,' but then, as far as he knew, there weren't any women older than her. Not that he'd be so crass as to say so to her face, mind. Not that her face looked it even, on the contrary, she could look, and did look, like any woman of any age, of any species. Of course while this could be amusing for fantasies, it did become a bit unnerving when she changed appearance during the act itself. Howling like a wolf-bitch in heat had a completely different meaning for Lilith. Nonetheless, they both enjoyed getting together every decade or so for a quick roll in the hay. Although then again, that new bed of spikes of hers wasn't exactly hay, Antefalken reflected, but it was the thought that counted.
Unfortunately, she'd had little information of use to him. Mainly just the standard intrigues of any court, demonic or otherwise. It also seemed Faust was convinced that some of the Arch Demons had run across some item guaranteed to upset the hierarchy of the Abyss, permanently. He was convinced that they had some plan to enslave the Demon Princes and set themselves up as rulers, but then Faust was always paranoid. Probably because he'd come to power in much the same manner, reflected Antefalken. Other than that and a few other interesting but useless tidbits, he'd come up dry. Not in bed, that was, but in terms of information, he quickly corrected himself in his thoughts.
"Anty! Dear chap!" a voice called. He looked over to where the voice had hailed him. He noted a familiar looking demon, wincing and holding its head, obviously regretting the loud nature of its own outburst. Near the bar, just getting a cup of choco-coffee was Bogsworth. He hadn't seen Boggy in at least a quarter of a century. When Boggy looked up again, after recovering, Antefalken waved him over.
While Boggy certainly didn't run in the circles where the information Antefalken needed was likely to be found, talking to the loquacious demon was always amusing, and sometimes informative. Plus, Boggy was a good friend, as demons go.
Boggy made his way over to Antefalken's table, carefully guarding his choco-coffee against spillage. By his movements, Antefalken noted a severe hangover on Bogsworth's part. For a demon, that indicated a truly prodigious amount of alcohol. The equivalent of a couple gallons of pure grain spirits at the least. Boggy sat down clumsily, across from Antefalken.
"So Boggy, what's the cause for celebration and inebriation?" Antefalken started with.
"That most joyous of all occasions in a demon's life! Oh..." Boggy winced and picked up his choco-coffee for a sip.
"You offed your Accursed Master?" Antefalken asked, pleasantly pleased for Boggy.
"Most certainly. And most naturally, thereafter, I cel-ebriated." Boggy sipped some more choco-coffee, his eyes still squinting in the morning's light. "Perhaps a bit too much."
"Aaah, but how often do you get the chance? Now you're a free man again."
"Aye, for a few decades at least. I'm pretty sure I took care of all loose ends." Boggy said, the choco-coffee starting to bring him back to life. There was nothing like Denubian Choco-CoffeeTM to bring a demon back into action. Only Denubians and demons could drink the stuff, it was just a bit too strong and bitter for mortals. Also the caffeine rush tended to cause immediate cardiac arrest in many mortal types.
"Well, I hope you didn't celebrate alone. I wished I'd known; I'd have joined you for a drink." Antefalken toasted Boggy with his choco-coffee.
"No, no, had several friends around," Boggy looked around, "not sure where they went..." Boggy signaled the bartender to bring over another cup of choco-coffee. "Actually, managed to get in a couple knock-down, drag-out brawls along the way too. I think...I don't recall too well." Boggy tenderly fingered his ear. He seemed to recall getting it ripped off at one point. "Course, it'd been real nice to have Tom around then. Nothing like a four in a bar brawl. But him being a newbie and all, he got a little squeamish when I regaled him of the glorious event."
Antefalken's ears pricked up. He went from pleasant reminiscence to intense curiosity at Boggy's words. "A newbie you said? and fourth order?" This was just what he was looking for.
"Yep. Kid's got guts. Tougher than nails too. Someday he's gonna be mighty kickass if he ever figures out what he can do. Already he's probably a match for any of the weaker fours. Just gotta get over this silly squeamishness of his."
"Who's his A.M.?" Antefalken prodded, this could be it.
"Ahhh jeessse, I don't know, it's hard enough to think after the last couple nights." Boggy stopped to try and remember, "Lenny something. I don't know, an Accursed Master is an Accursed Master."
"Lenamare..." Antefalken said softly.
"Yep, that's the one! You know him?"
"By reputation only, supposedly got a real big ego."
"Could be, could be. Certainly using the kid for rather podunk stuff."
It would probably be best not to give away too much of his interest to Boggy, he really didn't want Boggy telling any fourth order, new or not, that he'd been asking about him. "Well most those wizards do. Have to have big egos, I'd suppose, in order to think they can go around enslaving anybody they feel like." Antefalken diverted the topic. He knew this would get Boggy going on for a few hours. Now if only he could somehow indirectly find out where this newbie lived.
~
Master Hortwell gently floated down from his flying perch in the sky. It was certain, some other small army was camped to the south. Must be Zilquar, late as usual. So what to do? Hortwell guessed the best thing to do might be to meet up with Zilquar's people. Then what? Take o
ut the remains of Exador's army? It was not worthwhile, still probably too many wizards and demons to allow them to take it easily. March around Exador's people and head to Freehold? Hortwell knew that was where Lenamare and Jehenna would be heading. Lenamare would probably need all the support he could get.
Actually, that was probably where he should be now, anyway. Unfortunately, he'd been unconscious for some time and when he'd come to, he'd been too weak. Then the big boom spell went off, and he'd used up all the mana he'd regained as well as draining his reserve amulet to shield them from the fallout By the time he'd recovered from that, things started getting interesting down in Exador's camp and he decided to stay the night. Then about an hour ago, it'd gotten interesting again.
He'd just gone up to look to see if things had calmed down any and had spotted the other fires to the south. There wasn't much he could do about it now; it was rather late. It would probably be best just to try and sleep for the rest of the night. He still wasn't comfortable sleeping with Zargoffelstan roaming free while he slept, but he had to admit, the demon hadn't killed him while he was out. In fact the fool thing had even gone and tended him and built a hut! Imagine that, it had certainly surprised Hortwell more than he could possibly admit. Why a demon should behave so out of character was rather unnerving, even if he had known the demon for a great many years. Zargoffelstan had always been a rather low key demon as demon's went, but even so, this was most intriguing.
He hadn't probed the demon too hard about it. It was, after all, roaming completely free. He'd like to have penned it up or sent it back, but with all the soldiers around, sending it back didn't seem too wise, and penning it up seemed a bit rude at this point. Further, the last time he thought he'd had it penned up, it got free and killed the soldiers, so penning didn't seem too practical, at least not without wasting a lot of energy that could be better spent for other spells.
Things were as things were, Hortwell supposed. He might as well sleep while he could and join Zilquar in the morning. He walked back over to the log cabin and went to his makeshift cot. The demon really had done a remarkable job. He'd have to think of some form of suitable reward for it. Hortwell was a firm believer in just rewards and punishments. Some reward was certainly appropriate in the current circumstances; he would just have to determine what.
Chapter 46
Tom stared down at the fainted priest. These people were really unbelievable. The only people who didn't seem faint were egotistical psychotic wizards like Lenamare and small children like Rupert. He wasn't sure he'd ever understand them.
"So where are we?" Jenn asked, she was looking around at the chapel.
"Astlan!" Tizzy said, "and under no duress." Tizzy made a beeline for a barred door at the opposite end of the room. He lifted the bars and opened the door before Tom could halt him. It was dark behind the door, but it apparently led to the outside. Tom could hear crickets, he could also smell something unpleasant. Apparently they were in some sort of city.
Tizzy poked his head out the door, looked around, then ducked back in. He looked to Tom, "Thanks for the gateway Tom. Got some unfinished business to take care of. Later!" and with that he darted out the door and off into the sky. Tom ran to the door, four steps away for him, nearly hitting his head on a ceiling beam and stared out. There was no sign of the little demon.
Tom feared this didn't bode well. He hadn't counted on Tizzy coming too. Now the little demon was probably off to messily kill his master. That would be another death on Tom's shoulders. He just prayed that Tizzy wouldn't kill anyone else on the way or cause too many other problems. Schizophrenic demons were not a good thing to turn loose on unsuspecting people.
He shut the door. It apparently led into some form of alley, but nonetheless, he didn't want anyone wandering by to see a large demon standing in the doorway of some church. He didn't know much about Astlanians and their religions, but he suspected that a demon running around in a church could be taken by some as a bad omen.
"Where did he go?" Jenn asked.
"I think to kill his master." Tom answered her.
~
"Oh." Jenn turned rather pale, Gastropé was already pale. Jenn happened to look over to Rupert, only to find the boy with his hand down his pants, groping for something. "Rupert!" Jenn exclaimed in shock. The boy looked up, and as he did, he pulled a book out of his pants.
"Here, I rescued this for you, from the major's tent." Rupert handed her the magical book that her diary had been mistaken for. She blushed, slightly ashamed of herself for her thoughts. That naked demon there, flaunting itself, just kept bringing her mind back to the gutter. She'd forgotten completely about the book in all the confusion. Too bad Rupert couldn't have gotten her spell components; those would have been more useful at the moment.
She looked down at the priest. He was still out cold. She sympathized with him; it had probably been a pretty big shock. Nonetheless, they'd probably better tie him up and gag him before he alerted the local populace to the presence of demons. She looked around for something to tie him up with. All she found was a wardrobe with some clothes in it. She went over and found a robe that she started ripping into strips. She asked Gastropé to help her, and pretty soon they had the priest bound and gagged in case he came to.
~
While Jenn was doing this, Tom went exploring. He had to duck a lot, due to the wooden ceiling beams. Besides the exit, there was only one other door in the room. This led into what appeared to be a small kitchen. Or at least a room with a large fireplace with a spit, a table and chairs and some cupboards. No running water or sink apparently. There were some large bowls though, that could presumably be used as wash basins. Rather weird for a church Tom thought, but who was he to judge. These days he seemed to be a member of the opposition as far as religions went.
He looked through the cupboards, but found nothing of interest. He went back into the main room. Jenn and Gastropé had finished tying up the unconscious priest. They'd also gagged him. Tom hoped the man's screaming hadn't alerted anyone. He really didn't see how it could have failed to do so. Of course, if this had been New York, he'd have nothing to worry about. From the looks of the outside though, they appeared to be in an ally in some sort of decrepit ghetto in a large Dark-Age city, probably crawling with thieves, assassins and other lowlifes. He thus had no reason not to expect the people in this place to be as indifferent to screams in the night as those back home.
"I think we should get some sleep," Jenn suggested. She and Gastropé were certainly looking beat. "We can figure out what to do in the morning. We can also figure out where we are." Hearing no disagreement, she cleaned a spot on the floor and laid down. She glanced at Tom, apparently deciding whether or not she needed to admonish him not to kill them in their sleep.
Gastropé apparently was still not so convinced. While he too cleared a spot and laid down, he couldn't keep his eyes off Tom. Tom noticed his stare, and figured out the reason. While Gastropé seemed pretty useless, he figured the guy would be even more useless if he didn't get any sleep. So Tom decided to go back into the kitchen. He really didn't need any sleep, but he could at least sit and rest in there.
He went in and hunched down by the fire place. It still wasn't easy, given his form, but he was getting more adept at sitting on the floor. About ten minutes went by, Tom just squatting there thinking, when Rupert came in and sat down beside him. Tom smiled at the kid, it was kind of nice to have some company. He didn't feel quite so alone in this world when he had Rupert around.
"Thanks for taking us to the Abyss, Tom," Rupert said quietly. "I really enjoyed seeing it and meeting Tizzy. Will you take me back sometime and introduce me to more of your friends?"
Kid! Tom thought, what is wrong with you? "Yeah, well, first we gotta figure out where we are and what we're going to do to get you guys to Freehold." Tom also spoke softly, so the others could sleep.
"Yeah, that will be a bit of a problem," Rupert admitted. "We're obviously in a city. Getting out with
you is going to prove difficult. Further, if it is a city, then even if we get out, we may be in an area more populated, and with fewer wizards running around. You're going to attract a lot of attention."
"I know," Tom admitted. "I was thinking about that as Tizzy ran out the door. I'm not exactly easy to hide. On the other hand, I don't dare leave you guys alone if Exador is still after you."
"Uh huh." Rupert was silent after that. They both sat there in silence thinking. After what seemed like another ten minutes Rupert said, "Tom?"
"Yes," Tom answered, breaking out of his reverie.
"If you don't mind my asking...why don't you just shape change into a human form?"
Tom thought about this for a moment. Boggy had said some demons could do it, but only the most powerful. He had no idea how to go about it. "To be honest, Rupert, I don't know if I can. I've never done it. Not all demons can."
Rupert was surprised. "Never? How can that be?"
To Tom, Rupert sounded genuinely shocked. "I just haven't had the need." He really didn't feel like admitting to this kid who practically worshipped the ground he walked on, that he'd only been a demon for maybe two weeks at most.
"Well...well, I'm sure you can. You've just got to try. You can open Demonic Gateways, that's a lot harder than shape changing. Or at least, as hard." Rupert amended.
"I suppose. But how do I start? Just will it?"
"Sort of," Rupert said softly, but with authority, as if he really knew what he was talking about. "You just kind of relax all your muscles and imagine yourself as you'd like to be. Get an image of what you should look like in your head and superimpose it on your current image. Then you just sort of force the one on top of the other. It's real hard at first, but it just takes effort. It helps if the form is something or someone you're really familiar with."
How this kid could know this was a mystery; must be a wizard thing, Tom thought. "Hmm," Tom said, "Why don't you get some sleep? I'll think about it."
