The Heavenly Host (Demons of Astlan Book 2) (62 page)

Damien shook his head in annoyance. “They deal with extra-planar beings all the time: ghosts, vampires, undead, saints, angels. As I recall, they also like to do exorcisms; isn’t that demon-banning?”

Lenamare just snorted again and shook his head at the ridiculousness of consulting with clerics.

Jehenna interjected. “It may come to that, but perhaps we can do more research on the subject before needing to take extreme measures.” She glanced at Lenamare to make sure he was mollified.

“So what do we do in the meantime?” Zilquar asked.

“Business as usual?” Randolf shrugged.

“Business as usual?” Davron asked non-rhetorically.

Damien nodded in agreement. “We tell Exador that we are investigating testing mechanisms because we must be sure; but for now we take his word as a trusted member of the Council of Wizardry.”

Gandros nodded. “I agree. If he or his friends are archdemons, they have been that way for longer than any of us have been alive, and could have killed us all long ago. So for now, status quo.”

Davron sighed. “I guess. It seems better than any alternative.”

“I am not really seeing any alternatives at the moment,” Damien said.

~

Tom closed the gate behind the last of the Etterdam hunting party. He figured he had a few hours before he would need to create more gateways. Actually, that would be a problem with his visit to Damien and Antefalken. He would not be able to create a gateway to the kitchens if he was in Freehold. He would need to change that with Antefalken before the bard left.

He headed back towards his quarters, Zelda following. As they walked down the corridors to his suite, he was reminded of the other doors along the corridors. “Zelda, are these other suites in use?”

“No, My Lord. The suites on this level have been closed off since the treachery,” Zelda said.

“Who used them?” Tom asked.

Zelda shrugged. “Various high ministers, some guests.” She pointed to one they were just passing. “It is said that this suite was reserved for Loki when he visited.”

“Loki?” Tom asked. “The same one Delg mentioned?”

“Indeed, the jötunn lord,” Zelda replied. “Although this was a very long time ago, before Ragnarök. He perished battling Heimdallr to destroy Asbrú and thus all access to the realms of Midgard.” Zelda smiled. “Or so I am told; I am much too young to remember this. I know for a fact, however, that Delg would be more than happy to tell you far more than you could ever wish. In fact, my understanding is that if he gets drunk, he might not stop telling his stories, over and over again.”

Tom chuckled and nodded. It would be interesting to know how young she actually was, but he had to assume that asking a D’Orc woman her age was in as poor taste as asking a human woman.

“Can we assign a suite to some of my other friends?” Tom asked. “Talarius and Rupert each have their own rooms, but I think it would be good to have another suite for the rest. I don’t know the layouts, but ideally each should have a bedroom of their own.”

“Of course, My Lord. They can each have their own suite if they want. We have a lot of extra space in the Mount. At its height, we had over twenty thousand D’Orcs stationed here,” Zelda said.

Tom shuddered and closed his eyes; the D’Orcs had lost over ninety percent of their forces. “That’s a lot of casualties.”

Zelda nodded sadly. “We were just under four thousand after the defeat. We have encouraged children, but D’Orc babies are difficult to make and general attrition to Lilith’s forces and despair have taken their toll.”

Tom sighed, feeling depressed. He hoped he was not building up false hope. He suddenly realized he wanted to help the D’Orcs, a lot. They had welcomed him unlike any other group in the Abyss or Astlan, and they needed help. He could almost feel their suffering and pain. Of course, they were D’Orcs and they had been part of an Army of Evil for Orcus, which was probably not that pleasant of a thing. He should not be under any illusions as to who they were. He was familiar with the tales of orcs and Orcus.

Of course, he was also familiar with tales of demons. Before becoming a demon himself, he had believed many of the same things as the Astlanians. Now, with the orcs and D’Orcs, he was seeing them as real people, not the monsters of fairy tales and fantasy novels. Could the stories of orcs and D’Orcs be every bit as much bullshit as the stories of demons? Why not? The victors, not the losers, wrote history.

Could all those fantasy tales be some sort of elvish or alvaren propaganda? Was there a dark side to pipe-smoking wizards with big hats and large-footed, short friends? He needed to keep an open mind. He realized he had been quiet for some time as they walked; he should get back on topic.

“So how many bedrooms per suite?” Tom asked.

“Most have two, and some have three.”

“Actually, that is something I am curious about. I note that these suites have bedrooms, and the barracks have beds, even though demons don’t generally need to sleep,” Tom noted.

Zelda smiled. “Well, beds are useful to make babies.”

Tom grinned. “In that case, I guess you guys are working pretty hard.”

Zelda chuckled. “But you are correct; D’Orcs need sleep no more than any demon. However, my understanding—and we should be verifying this shortly now that you’ve returned—is that the Mount’s mana generation and accumulation competes with a demon’s or D’Orc’s ability to collect mana.”

Tom nodded, thinking. “So by sleeping, D’Orcs can conserve mana and replenish easier.”

“Exactly! While operating, the Mount creates a lot of mana, but it sucks a lot of it right back up to power itself and charge its mana pools. That means the ambient levels for demons and D’Orcs to replenish from is lower.”

“So you sleep more.” Tom nodded.

“Yes. Of course, the Mount has been dormant for thousands of years, so we didn’t need to sleep as much,” Zelda added.

Tom chuckled. “But you did need babies.”

Zelda grinned. “Indeed we did. But also because… well, to be honest, many of the elders were filled with despair and sorrow. This caused them to sleep more, and sometimes worse.”

Tom shuddered, thinking about the depressed D’Orcs. “And I suppose x-glargh hasn’t been particularly available?”

Zelda nodded. “We have the wealth of the Mount, but that’s most valuable on the Planes of Orcs, which we’ve had no way to access.”

“Are there not any shaman D’Orcs?” Tom asked as they approached his suite.

“I am told there were, but the majority was with your prior self and perished. The shamans here were the front line in repelling Lilith and her forces after the treachery. We lost all but a handful at that time. About two thousand years ago, we lost the last of our shamans to attrition and despair.” Zelda sighed. “We are so sorry, lord, for failing you. For not trusting your prophecy and believing.” She sounded truly heartbroken.

“Do not be sorry. You have been hardened by these trials. You are the survivors, the strongest of the strong, and you have bravely carried on. There is nothing to be sorry for.” Tom rested his hand on her shoulder for a moment before turning to open the door to his suite.

“Thank you, lord,” Zelda said as he turned.

In the room were Rupert and Fer-Rog. It looked and sounded like Rupert was teaching Fer-Rog a card game. The room was otherwise empty, and the other doors off the suite were open.

“Where is everyone?” Tom asked.

Fer-Rog looked up and grinned at his mother.

Rupert moved a card and then grinned at Tom. “Reggie, Tizzy, Boggy and Talarius all found large sacks and headed back to the gem caverns to gather our gem piles.”

“Antefalken is wandering the halls, exploring I guess,” Fer-Rog said.

“Do they know how to make their way back through the tunnels?” Tom asked Rupert.

Rupert shook his head. “No, they flew up and out of the volcano. They plan to go back in from the entrance.”

“Good enough,” Tom said. “If you see Antefalken, tell him that I need to push back my visit to Damien until the evening. I’m going to be busy with hauling game back to the kitchens today.”

“Mother, when can I go hunting?” Fer-Rog asked excitedly.

“We’ll see. There is a long line of hunters with seniority who want to go first,” Zelda told her son.

“I want to go too!” Rupert said.

“Okay, at some point you can. As the steward says, we have a long queue,” Tom said. He really was not sure that big game hunting was the greatest idea for a kid. Although it could not be any more dangerous than being caught in a tent with Talarius and his sword. In addition, if they were in Astlan, Rupert could not be permanently killed. Okay, maybe not a bad idea,
Tom decided.

Tom turned to Zelda. “Speaking of beds, I want to rest a bit before the first gate is needed. Powering this place up is still quite draining.”

Zelda nodded. “I will have rooms made up for the others. What assignments do you want?”

Tom thought for a moment. “Maybe a two-bedroom suite for Boggy and Tizzy, and then a three-bedroom suite for Antefalken, Estrebrius and Reggie? Or whatever combination they want, I don’t care.”

“The rooms will be ready later this afternoon. I will be down near kitchen one, awaiting the first kills,” Zelda said.

“Thanks!” Tom said.

“Fer-Rog, you will need to be in the kitchen when the kills arrive; you need to learn how to prepare them,” Zelda said. She looked at Tom. “As do I, for that matter. I’ve been taught but never done it, since I’m not that old.”

~

DOF +7

Midday (Murgatroy Time) 16-04-440

“I am starting to think this place is a very comfortable prison,” Gastropé said to Maelen as he entered the port observation lounge, where Maelen was relaxing on a sofa and sipping tea as he gazed out the large port viewing lens. He sat down next to the seer.

“A very nice prison with good food, wine and a very nice library of work done by non-humans,” Maelen said, smiling and gesturing to the wall of books to their left. “I have to tell you, getting access to alvaren texts is quite a treat for me. Add in Modgriensofarthgonosefren works, as well as several others, and I could spend years floating on this cloud.”

Gastropé chuckled. “I should probably be a better scholar. Although I am learning a lot about aerial combat magic with Peter, Zed and the other carpet warriors. This ship truly is incredible. That, in fact, may be the problem.”

Maelen gave him a questioning look.

“On a ship, you feel the sea’s rocking motion continuously. You can walk on deck and get the wind in your hair, smell the salt of the sea. You feel the movement, the progress of the ship’s journey. This cloud moves incredibly smoothly when not under attack. I cannot even discern that we are moving other than by staring at the ground so far below us. And that is through a lens, not even a real window!” Gastropé complained.

It was Maelen’s turn to chuckle. “You will, however, at least admit it’s a far better view than you get in the middle of a sea, yes?”

Gastropé grinned. “I will give you that. It’s a view I could not even have imagined from a flying carpet until this trip!” He shook his head. “It just doesn’t feel quite real.”

“And during your combat practice? I heard you were drilling with the carpet warriors,” Maelen asked.

“That is more surreal than real. I try very hard not to look at or even think of the view there; otherwise, my muscles would freeze over faster than a storm lich’s butt.”

Maelen grinned. “I will take your word concerning flying on a combat carpet. As for the Nimbus, I understand. I have been a traveler nearly my entire life. I have never traveled in such luxury or with such ease. I doubt the gods themselves could arrange better transport than this cloudship.” He shrugged again. “So, I shall enjoy it. It’s a rare luxury in this world—or any, I should imagine.”

“I just like this piped-in water they have!” Jenn said, joining the conversation as she entered the lounge. “Imagine, just turn a knob and a pipe delivers water into a basin or a tub. Then imagine two pipes, one with cold water, the other with hot! This is wizardry at its finest! It would be an unbelievable luxury on the ground, but in the air, leagues above the ground? It’s like living in some sort of fairy tale!” She grabbed a biscuit off the tray next to the teapot.

“If your fairy tale has dragon-riding liches that like to attack you every so often.” Gastropé grinned at her.

“True, I could do without them in my fairy tale.” She shook her head. “Everything has its price.”

So where are we now?” Jenn changed the subject, leaning over the sofa back to look out the lens.

“The forest below us is The United Federation,” Maelen said, pointing to the large forest that they were passing over. “A very large and dense forest, with significant logging operations and paper production.”

“Yeah, at my old school we ordered all our paper and books from the UF,” Gastropé said. “I didn’t exactly know where it was, just a long way southeast of the school. Over-Grove One, Master called it.”

“It and Murgandy have somehow managed to survive millennia of wars with the jötnar races without using extensive defenses,” Maelen said.