* * *
Hidimba was spent. He lay motionless on the sleeping stone, his spirit trying to acclimate itself again with his own body. Possession was never easy; it was exhausting for Hidimba and usually quite trying for the host as well. What the little demon had just tried, however, was reckless. It was impossible to control an unwilling and healthy adult. But Hidimba had, if only just for a moment. And now he was paying the toll.
Og understood. He hated asking the little demon to do what he did, but there was no other way. The others had to be warned. He hoped that Hidimba would recover quickly. He hoped that the boy was all right. But that's all he could do. Just hope.
Azazel was back. He could hear his uncle's voice mixed with the words of Dantalion. The two of them were conversing somewhere in the ancient demon's cave. He couldn't make out the words, but he didn't need to. They were giving orders and making plans-plans that Og would rather not think about.
He listened intently for the sound of Kokabiel's voice intermingled with the other two, but it was not to be heard. The Star of God was either absent or strangely silent. Og hoped he was there. He would know soon enough. The voices were getting closer.
The demon guards to his right, up near the throne, separated and turned. He glanced back at Hidimba to his left. Still no change. With one mighty heave, Og was up with his spear in hand. Azazel was here. The giant would meet him standing.
His uncle remained the same. That was no surprise to Og. The Grigori were forever. Azazel was smallish for a Watcher, but he was still the tallest of those approaching the giant. Kokabiel was not with the group. They stopped before getting too close to the cornered giant. Azazel made no attempt to placate the colossus. He didn't pretend to be happy.
"Take his spear," Azazel said. Dantalion motioned at two of his guards to carry out the order. They were understandably hesitant. Og did not seem ready to relinquish his weapon just yet.
"You made this for me," the giant said. "Only after much loss of life will it change hands."
"I made it for your father Ogias-a real giant," Azazel shouted. "And no one is dying . . . not yet anyway." He raised his right hand, palm open, just as he finished speaking, and aligned himself with Og. The giant knew exactly what was about to happen, and he didn't hesitate. He needed to close the distance. Immediately.
Dantalion's henchmen were well trained. When the giant charged, they put themselves between the attacking behemoth and their masters. Six of them filled the void, and they did so without delay. Their earlier apprehension was overridden by the sense of duty that had been tortured into their psyche. Four of them were destroyed in the blink of an eye.
It was the great spear. Og swung it in an arc that seemed to burn through everything in its path. Bone, flesh, armor, and weapon all yielded to its speed and masterful design. Of the remaining two guards, one survived minus only his sword arm, while the other managed to escape unscathed by smartly dropping to the stone floor and rolling away from the deadly attack. Og paid him no attention, instead choosing to draw his weapon back for the killing throw, his eyes locked on the chest of the Watcher.
He saw Dantalion also. Fear had replaced the smug confidence that the Great Duke wore on his face not seconds earlier. Now he cowered close to Azazel, trying to maneuver his body behind the Grigori and away from Og's spear. His alarm would prove unfounded.
Og felt the fallen magic take him just as he was about to loose the spear. He watched the mighty weapon crash harmlessly to the stone floor as it slipped from the hand that he could no longer move. All of his limbs were unfeeling and unresponsive. His body crumpled and he landed on his side facing back towards Hidimba. Helpless. He was done. Azazel was too powerful.
"What an incredible weapon," Dantalion said. The Great Duke had removed himself from behind Azazel once Og was down. The giant could only hear his words, but was not surprised by Dantalion's behavior. His mood was nonchalant and evasive, as if the whole episode, especially his own cowardice, had never happened. Shifty as ever.
"The giant or the spear," Azazel asked.
"The both of them . . . together."
"An incredible waste if he cannot be made to embrace his true nature," Azazel said as he bent over and collected the spear for himself.
"And how do we do that Lord Azazel?"
"We starve him Dantalion. Bind him, lock him up, and let his hunger do the rest."
"And what of the little demon there on my bed? The one you named Hidimba. He and Og seemed to be getting along quite well."
"A gift to you Great Duke. You have done well. Do with him as you see fit . . . just take the giant from here. Hide him away where he cannot be found until I am ready. And bind him securely. The spell will weaken eventually. I don't want this one running loose. I'm sure you understand."
"Perfectly. It will be as you say."
"And have the humans brought up to the old slave quarters," Azazel added as he exited the stage.
"Again, it will be as you say."
Og heard it all. He was able to see also, even though his eyes pained him. He couldn't blink. He had listened to their conversation, and was fearful of what was to come. They wanted to reduce him to an animal. They would do it; the hunger would win. And Hidimba. What would become of him?
The giant sensed movement. They were trying to pull him away. It would take a great many of Dantalion's demons to move him. He began to hope once more. He hoped that those responsible for his relocation would fall or injure themselves in the process. He hoped that the theurgy rendering him helpless would fail and allow him to kill everyone he sees. But mostly he hoped that his friends were safe and that Hidimba would forgive him. The little demon would be horribly unsettled when he woke up and his protector was nowhere to be found.
A set of feet that suddenly appeared right near his face disrupted Og's thoughts. Both the skin and nails were the color of burnt wood. It was Dantalion. He heard the Great Duke order the demons to roll him onto his back before they drug him away. He sensed movement again, and his view changed from Dantalion's feet to the fiend's face as his head followed the roll of his body. The Great Duke was smiling.
"Mighty Og . . . reduced to a quivering mound of flesh by your dear uncle. Not exactly the reunion you were hoping for now was it." Dantalion stepped over the giant's body and straddled his massive chest. Next, he lowered himself down, sat directly on Og, and then leaned his face in close to the giant's. He let some spittle roll out of his own mouth that fell high up on Og's cheek and found its way into the colossus' left eye. He did not lower his voice even though he was only a couple of inches from Og.
"Things will get better. Soon you will call us master. Azazel and me. I will bring you a fat goat, and you will call me master just like your sleeping friend over there. You know, you should be proud of your little friend Hidimba. I have decided to bestow quite the honor upon him when he awakens. He will replace the Deadtalker that you destroyed. Of course I'm doubtful as to whether he can endure the measures necessary for such a post. The rakshasa are not a very robust breed of demon. Well, I suppose we'll find out soon enough won't we."
Dantalion raised himself off the giant and stepped from Og's view. "Take him to the holding cell just before Naberius' lair," he ordered. The demons, mindful of their master's wishes, began to pull. Og followed. The tears of a giant trailed them all.
The Peacock Angel: Rise of the Decarchs Page 56
