The Heavenly Host (Demons of Astlan Book 2) (20 page)

“Well, what do you know? That was only ten minutes!” Maelen stated.

Jenn sat up quickly, looking back to see the seer peering at a pocket chronometer.

“You mean ten hours!” groaned Gastropé, removing his arm from around Jenn, but saying nothing to her.

Elrose laughed. “I have to admit, that was one of the longest ten minutes of my life!”

Several aetós laughed loudly behind them. “If you thought that was an experience, just wait for the Fierdal bridge! Treyfoêr exclaimed. “Grounders never enjoy that!”

“Joy.” Gastropé quipped sarcastically.

The carts came to a halt near a large, flat area on the side of the mountain. There was a wagon there, which was equipped with poles out the front and rear, as if to be pulled and pushed by people. On the wagon were the multiple chests and trunks belonging to Elrose. Beyond the cart at the end of a path was a large frame with what appeared to be an unbelievably large crystal lens. It had to be fourteen feet in diameter, if not more.  The path ended in a small bridge leading up to the middle of it.

“Out we go!” Trevin called. “Fierd’s approaching; we need to move!”

Jenn slid to the left to exit, Gastropé sliding along behind her to exit on the same side. He still hadn’t said anything about her being in his arms. As she stepped down to the ground, a wave of dizziness swept over her and she nearly collapsed. She grabbed the side of the cart for support, and Gastropé also reached to steady her.

Trevin nodded. “The ride does have a tendency to throw off one’s balance, but you will be fine in a bit.”

The others also seemed wobbly as they unloaded their gear. “Everyone load your gear up. Each of you will be accompanied by an aetóên on the bridge to help you keep your balance. The remaining aetós will bring the wagon with the equipment. Everyone line up side by side!”

Danfaêr came up beside her. “I think you’re going to want to hold my hand until you get used to the bridge,” he stated. Jenn was once again caught up in his incredible scent and magnificent torso in the predawn light. She could only nod. Goddess, these beings were gorgeous, Jenn thought to herself.

The group took their positions: Trevin was at the gate to the bridge, preparing to open it, Hethfar just behind her. Elrose and his aetóên companion were next, followed by Gastropé and Treyfoêr, and then Jenn and Danfaêr. Maelen and his companion were behind them, and last came the wagon.

Trevin began chanting and arranging crystals on a pedestal beside the giant lens. The wind direction was such that Jenn could not make out the words of the incantation. Probably just as well; she was not much with enchantment. Or was this pyromancy? It was a Fierdal bridge, and Fierd was by definition the source of fire. Or with the crystals, was it some form of runic magic? She had read once of something called crystal magic, but she did not know anything about it. Anyway, it seemed better to speculate on this rather than how she had gotten in Gastropé’s arms.

While she was thinking about this, Fierd rose above the horizon and the lens lit up like a thousand candles, showering a rainbow of colors around them.

“Time to go!” Trevin shouted and walked forward right through the lens! Jenn blinked and realized that there was no longer a lens; there was instead a bridge of fierdshine on the other side of the portal.

Hethfar followed her and Treyfoêr started forward, gently pulling Gastropé with him. As they moved forward, Danfaêr started pulling Jenn forward as well. As Gastropé stepped through the portal, Jenn heard him curse and halt briefly, but Treyfoêr dragged him forward saying, “You really don’t want to stop and look down. Trust me; this is disconcerting even for the aetós.”

“I will agree.” Danfaêr looked down and smiled at Jenn. “Just look forward and concentrate on following those in front of us.” They stepped through and Jenn was hit with the worst case of vertigo she had ever experienced. There was nothing below her feet and a one-league drop other than sparkling, shifting rays of light.

It was very disconcerting. She had no idea what light rays were supposed to look like, but what was below her feet looked like the bright streaks of light you saw when looking at Fierd through squinted eyes. It was insanely dizzying. “Look forward. It gets worse as you walk,” Jenn heard Danfaêr say.

Holy mother goddess! Did it ever!  With every step she took, the ground far below her seemed to telescope and stretch. “What the Abyss?” Jenn gasped.

“Every stride on the Fierdal Bridge covers a league. It’s a very fast way of traveling, but it’s also very disturbing.” Jenn decided to stop fighting the advice she had been given and she focused on Gastropé ahead of her, locking her gaze only on him. As she did, she realized that he was walking rather rigidly, his sight apparently locked on Elrose ahead of him.

They had been on the bridge for maybe two dozen strides when she suddenly heard Trevin caterwauling from the front: “We’re walking on fierdshine—whoa oh! Walking on fierdshine—and don’t it feel good!” No, Jenn decided, Trevin’s off-key singing did not feel good! She hoped the woman did not use that voice to try and enchant people! Fortunately, the enchantress stopped singing and laughed as she picked up her stride, swinging her arms briskly as she marched along the bridge.

“This, my friends, must be the manner in which the gods of old used to tread the lands of men!” Trevin shouted over her shoulder at the rest of the party. “Sure, teleportation is quicker if you know where you are going, but this is far more liberating and exciting!”

Jenn closed her eyes for a bit to allow Danfaêr to lead her. She was nearing her limits on keeping her breakfast from leaving. And she had thought the cart ride was stomach wrenching; she’d had no idea what was to come.

They continued to march for several minutes or more—Jenn had lost track of time—and she simply let Danfaêr lead her. After some time she finally opened her eyes to see they had left the mountains and were striding over a huge forest that stretched for leagues in each direction. She had not realized with her eyes closed, but they were actually heading downward towards the ground at this point. It probably was not three or four minutes before she saw a large glade in the middle of the forest that the bridge seemed to be leading to.

Down they marched at a dizzying pace, and suddenly they were stepping through another lens portal and into the glade itself. Jenn was not sure she had ever felt anything as wonderful as the soft dirt and grass beneath her boots as she stepped into the glade. The light from the bridge was still quite dazzling in the glade and it took her eyes a few minutes to realize that they were surrounded by naked, overly endowed women and short, brown, hairy wingless demons!

Vaselle stepped back from the pentagram he had constructed in the dirt in the clearing outside the city. He was now ready to summon Estrebrius. He had to admit to being nervous. After he had sent his demon on the quest to find the super-demon, he had had second thoughts. It was really rather ridiculous to think that his little demon would be able to find and contact such a powerful force of evil. Moreover, if somehow Estrebrius ever did, the demon would surely slaughter his poor servant. It was just stupid and selfish of him. He had put at risk his good and faithful demon.

Estrebrius had served him faithfully with no tricks or games for the last few years; he had also been a great companion around the lab. He really hoped he had not sent the poor fiend to his death. That was probably the main reason for his anxiety this morning. Being honest, he had a good idea how many demons there were and what a big place the Abyss was, and there was no realistic way Estrebrius could have found the demon, nor would it have agreed to meet him. Yet he could not resist a nagging guilt that he might have seen the last of his faithful demon.

He shook his head and began the summoning. It was his standard summoning spell for Estrebrius. He probably should use something stronger in the unlikely event that Estrebrius had found the demon lord; however, Vaselle didn’t think he knew anything powerful enough to protect him from a demon capable of defeating a Knight Rampant of Tiernon and possessing hundreds of Rod members and priests. In addition, such bindings would be antithetical to his proposal in the first place.

He finished the summons and waited for Estrebrius to appear. His stomach twisted slightly, as it seemed to be taking the demon an unusually long time to appear. Finally the fire began to glow very brightly, higher and higher, and the familiar form of Estrebrius appeared.

“Master, I have come at your summons.” Estrebrius bowed.

“Thank goodness! I was a bit worried. I realized after I sent you on your task that it was unrealistic of me to expect you to succeed, and I was putting you at great risk. I’m so sorry.” Vaselle shook his head in apology.

Estrebrius coughed, and Vaselle looked at him oddly. “Well, I have to admit, I agreed with that assessment when you sent me off, but, well… I’ve had some luck.”

“Luck?” Vaselle asked, shocked. “You’ve found out something about the demon lord? A trail to follow?”

“Uhm, well, a bit more than that, master.” Estrebrius grinned.

Suddenly Vaselle could feel a disturbance in his spell and the fire that had summoned Estrebrius suddenly burst higher, rising far over the short demon’s head. The small brazier fire was now a giant bonfire and Vaselle could feel the link expanding on its own. It should not do that—that was not possible! There wasn’t fuel for a fire that big!

“To your left, Estrebrius,” a thunderous voice ordered from the fire. Vaselle felt his stomach drop. Estrebrius stepped to his left and a monstrously huge, gigantic hoof came through fire. Vaselle backed up hurriedly. A huge, scaly digitigrade leg followed the hoof, and then the largest set of male genitalia Vaselle had ever seen! The testicles were nearly the size of his own skull ; the male member a one-eyed serpent of terror! Vaselle made a croaking noise and fell to his knees, unable even to think.

Next he saw individual abdominal muscles larger than his entire abdominal region, clawed hands capable of engulfing his entire body, forearms larger than his thighs, and biceps and triceps the size of his waist. Vaselle was simultaneously in awe and terror. He gasped as huge slabs of pectoral muscle came through the flames, with giant spiked nipples on giant aureoles.

And then the maw… the fangs, the jaws of death, above which were fiercely penetrating black eyes that were already staring into the depths of his soul to render and encompass his entire being. Humongous ebony horns rose above those life-stealing eyes, suitable for disemboweling him with a simple head shake of “no.”

Vaselle was hyperventilating by the time the entire magnificent demon emerged from the flames in its most awe-inspiring, dark glory. He was in the presence of a god among demons! Clearly a demon prince; Vaselle was sure of this. Coming to his senses somewhat, he prostrated himself before the one he had inadvertently called into this glade.

“Wizard!” The voice of Lassalle’s personal god thundered. “Your servant claims you have a proposition for me?”

“My... aghhk!” Vaselle choked on the saliva swarming down his throat in his terror. “Master, Lord High Prince of the Abyss! Forgive this foolish mortal’s temerity! It is not so much a proposition as an offer, a gift!”

There was silence for a moment and Vaselle feared he had angered the mighty demon.

“A gift?” The demon lord sounded puzzled, or maybe it was intrigued? Could it be?

“Yes, My Lord. The only gift I have worthy of your eminence!” Vaselle wailed. He was nearing panic at this point.

“And what would that be?” the demon asked.

“My Lord, as insignificant as it is, as unworthy as it is, I humbly offer you my immortal soul and would beg to be your agent in this world, to be taken and possessed by you, to do your bidding in Astlan! To be your slave, your puppet, your plaything, your devoted sycophant!”

There was complete silence. Vaselle felt his bowels begin to loosen. Had he angered the demon? Was he about to be rendered limb from limb in ecstatic agony and suffering?

After what seemed to be an eternity, he dared to glance up towards his prospective master to see the demon lord peering down at him, apparently lost in thought. He was not sure.

“Uhm, yes, well, I need to think about this,” the demon lord stated. “I’ll get back to you.” He suddenly backed up into the flames, disappearing.

Estrebrius was staring at Vaselle in shock.

“Estrebrius, get your butt through the gateway!” A new voice hollered through the flames. Was the demon’s entourage on the other side of the gateway?

Estrebrius shook his head and hurriedly entered the flames, disappearing into the nether regions. The flames then suddenly shrank down to nothing, leaving only a few burning embers and finally only cold ash. Birds chirped in the forest around him as if nothing had happened. Vaselle planted his face in the grass and wept with a mixture of fear, relief and frustration.

~

“Thank you for joining me for breakfast, Archimage,” Damien said, gesturing to a seat at his patio breakfast table. Damien’s third-year apprentice, Gemma, had shown the Archimage of Turelane to the patio where Damien was waiting for him.

As the archimage sat, Damien sat as well. “Well, thank you for this most unexpected invitation, Inquisitor.” His use of Damien’s alternate title indicated that he knew full well why he’d been invited for breakfast. Randolf looked around the balcony. “ I do not believe I have ever been to your quarters before. What a magnificent view of the city!”

“Thank you. To be fully honest, the fact that I had no idea that you had an archdemon in your employ may have contributed to my tardiness in entertaining you,” Damien said drily.

Randolf chuckled softly. “Surely you flatter me, Inquisitor. I myself had no idea I had an archdemon as an employee. While I appreciate the thought that I might be capable of commanding the service of an archdemon, I fear that, assuming Exador actually
is
an archdemon, I am but a dupe of his; as is, of course, the Council for admitting him as a member.”

“Obviously, although was it not you who recommended him?” Damien smiled and lifted a cup of tea to his lips.

Randolf chuckled again. “Not precisely. As I recall, this was about ten years before your tenure began and Lenamare was nominated, and given their rather high-pressure rivalry, it was almost obligatory that Exador also be nominated. There were many on the Council who thought it best to elevate both of them at the same time,” Randolf reminisced as he poured himself a cup of tea.

Damien nodded in concession. “Yes, I can certainly understand that logic.” He set his tea down and took a bite of sweet cake before continuing. “Yet, two years later you chose Exador to be Mage of Turelane over Lenamare. No thought of having co-mages?”

Randolf sighed. “It was a difficult choice. As we’ve seen, Lenamare is a truly exceptional wizard. However, there is no legal precedent for co-mages, and there is historical precedent for an Exador holding the title.”

“Your great-grandfather, I believe, created the title for him?” Damien enquired.

Randolf shrugged. “Well, this was not that long after the rather destructive events in Abancia. He felt that a solid alliance with the Exadors would be advantageous to Turelane.”

“Yes, that seems reasonable, given that it was that Exador’s father who toppled Abancia,” Damien noted taking another sip of tea.

“Exactly.”

“Or perhaps the same Exador, if he is an archdemon?” Damien asked.

Randolf nodded in acceptance of Damien’s point. “Of course, a rather convoluted ruse, since I can assure you that according to my own observance of the current Exador, and the accounts of others whom I trust, he does age and die, and he does produce heirs to succeed him.”

“Is it true,” Damien asked, setting his cup down, “that the Lady Exadors have particularly hard labors?”

Randolf chuckled. “I know the rumors—that they all mysteriously die in childbirth—but that’s not actually true.” He smiled. “At least not every time. It has happened that several of them have become pregnant quickly after marriage and then died in childbirth, and several others died within months due to delayed effects, vapors or something. However, the current Exador’s mother was alive until he was five years old.”

“So these men simply have a predisposition for wives with poor constitutions?” Damien asked.

“It would seem so; further, they all come from the other side of Norelon, from distant lands. Never from local nobility. To be perfectly candid, if I had a daughter, I would not marry her to Exador.”

“Even though he’s been your most trusted advisor?” Damien asked curiously.

“Even so.” Randolf took a long drink of tea.

“Well, fortunately, you have a son , yes?” Damien asked.

Randolf shrugged. “I have an heir with my wife, Lady Magret, and I have a bastard with an old friend of mine. I have acknowledged both.”

Damien nodded. “Ardashir, who is eleven, and Darien, who is seven.”

Randolf smiled. “Exactly.”

“I am unclear as to what your position is on Exador. Do you believe he is an archdemon?” Damien asked.

“I have known the man for a very long time, and dealt with him quite closely. I assure you, he has never manifested any demonic traits that I can detect. I have, in fact, seen him conjure and control demons of multiple orders. By every measure listed in the Council library that I have ever tested, he is not a demon. None of the normal traits apply. That being said, the number of demons in the palace would be very hard for a wizard of even Exador’s caliber to control. Further, this Ramses fellow is quite an anomaly. I know no more of him than you. As to the woman, I again have no idea.”

“Well.” Damien sat back, slightly surprised. That was the clearest answer he had ever heard from the Archimage of Turelane. “That was very…”

“Direct?” Randolf said with a smile.

“My fellow councilor,” Randolf continued, “I want to assure you that whatever past relationships between Turelane, the Council, Exador and myself have been, I want to understand what is going on as much as anyone on the Council, and even more so. If Exador is an archdemon, it paints a very different picture of the history of both Turelane and Abancia.”

Damien nodded. “I understand. It would help explain a lot of things in your land’s past.”

“Exactly, and if he is not an archdemon, and/or he manages to clear his name, I’m going to have to continue working with him, as will my people.”

“The way you phrase that implies that clearing his name is not the same as not being an archdemon,” Damien observed.

“Well, if that’s how you choose to interpret my words, then so be it. However, in such case, it would be no different from the previous status quo, before the expulsion. He is a powerful influence in the region, archdemon or not, as he and his family have been for a very long time.”

~

Bess purred and rolled over to stroke Exador’s chest hair as the faux light of the Court’s simulated dawn streamed through the bedroom’s floor-to-ceiling window. “So, as of last night Lenamare’s wards were still around Freehold. This, naturally—and very inconveniently—protects the book, as well as causing the very sudden disappearance of one of the councilors in the middle of a siege.”

Exador snorted. “Yes, inconvenient would be the correct word.” He chuckled as he stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. “I spent a good amount of time venting my frustration yesterday.”

“Hmm,” Bess mused. “I assume someone, or ones, found that unpleasant.”

Exador laughed aloud at this, tilting his head up from the pillow to give her a gentle kiss. “Indeed. Unfortunately, nearly everyone here in the Abyss is a demon and for them, fireballs, lightning bolts and explosions are everyday occurrences. Anyway, they all regenerate.” He shook his head in half-mock sorrow. “It really takes the fun out of venting one’s wrath if there is no permanent destruction or loss of life.”