The Heavenly Host (Demons of Astlan Book 2) (95 page)

~

Tom shook his head. This was going to take forever. Fortunately, his allies were having some success. Talarius had gotten the first kill, and then Morok, then one of the sphinxes, and surprisingly, the D’Orcs had gotten one. That kill was a true testament to teamwork and coordination; he was so proud of his D’Orcs.

VOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!!!!!

Tom glanced over to see a now headless Knight of Chaos with a giant jet of black energy shooting up into the sky where its head had been. Sekhmekt had killed one of her two knights. Tom grimaced; they were all here defending his new house, and everyone else was finishing off their knights faster than he was. He was just not having any luck. He had tried pretty much every trick he had used against Talarius, but the Knight of Chaos was much larger, almost his own size, and even more invulnerable. Bashing it with the Rod of Tommus seemed to work the best, but he was not making any dents in the armor.

He needed to fight smarter, not harder. The only problem was, he had no idea what “smarter” might be. He stared at the knight in front of him as they exchanged blows. Its armor had a glowing, reddish-black set of eight arrows radiating from a central point towards each of the eight cardinal directions. The symbol of Chaos in the world of the Eternal Champion.

For the knight’s sake, he hoped Michael Moorcock or his publisher had not trademarked that symbol, or the knights would have Big Publishing coming after them. Of course, while that would be bad, it would not be as bad as putting a giant, stylized “S” inside a diamond on one’s chest. That would have set Warner Bros. on a warpath, and Tom was pretty sure their lawyers were meaner than a Knight of Chaos.

Given all the crazy stuff that he had seen the last few months, there probably was a universe in which people flew through the air in blue and red tights. In which case, maybe the Multiversal Trademark
MTM
would reside with the real Man of Steel, if there was one.

Of course, even the term
multiverse
might be copyrighted by Michael Moorcock, who had invented it. Hmm, if he was going to set himself up as a ”dark lord,” he had probably better make sure he was not going to violate any copyright or trademark laws. Of course, the coop had already been flown on his new house. It was probably only a matter of days before he was swarmed by hobbits (©JRR Tolkien) with lawsuits.

“Ouch!” Tom shouted as he was split in two horizontally. He flashed himself whole. He needed to stop this internal monologue or he would lose this battle. That was a known problem for dark lords: they always had to have these infernally long monologues that ended up costing them the victory.

“Ouch!”
Crap!
He had done it again.

Think, Tom
! These things were agents of chaos, whatever that was. Chaos was disorder, it was entropy, it was change, and it was energy. Certainly, the exploding knights released a lot of wild, crazy-looking black energy. The blasts had even looked chaotic; giant vents that spewed out of the hole in the knight in all directions. Very much like a regenerating Time Lord, only more evil-looking.

So if these things were chaos, raw entropy, then what would stop them?
Order
. That was the obvious answer. If you impose order on chaos, it loses its power. In physics, or at least in science fiction, unordered states had more entropy, more energy. They were hot. The opposite of a highly chaotic or entropic state was a perfectly ordered state. That only happened at absolute zero. At absolute zero, all the electrons were in their lowest energy state. All the uncertainty as to their position and momentum was resolved at that point. The entropy, the chaos was gone.

Tom paused to think about this. “Ouch!” he yelled as his leg was chopped off. He re-formed. If this logic held, then he had been going about this all wrong. Fire, like the volcano and its eruptions, increased temperature, increased entropy and energy. He needed to freeze the crap out of these things; then they would lose their energy, their entropy, their chaos. It would be hard to be an Agent of Chaos without any chaos! But how could he freeze these guys? He had fed the volcano by sucking Fire through the Fire portals, when what he really needed now was cold. How did he get cold?

CRUNCH! FFFOOOOOMMSSHHHHHH!!!!
Another sphinx smooshed a knight.

Well, he could do cold fire. He had cold runes all over the place. How did they work? Tom had to think on what those runes were actually doing. It took a few moments because he was in the middle of battle, but he suddenly realized what had once been obvious to him: the cold runes were sucking Fire out of the rooms! They were returning Fire to the elemental plane of Fire. In fact, that was really what his cold fire was: it was anti-fire, negative fire.

That was the key: he needed to reverse the fire portals. Suck the heat out of these guys. Tom grinned. His Rod was directly connected to the Fire portal. He just needed to return Fire to its place of origin. He needed to concentrate. He shifted to his fire form, which he supposed was ironic. Turning into a living flame in order to figure out how to extinguish fire?

The knight took several swipes, rather ineffectively. Tom winced; the knight’s sword had started glowing differently. It was figuring out how to hurt his fire form. Fair enough; Tom almost had it. He concentrated on the Rod of Tommus and the Fire portal. He became one with the Fire, one with the portal. Yes, that was it.

Tom rematerialized and grinned at his knight. He swung the Rod of Tommus at it, imagining the Rod as the hose of a vacuum cleaner. He fully channeled the Fire portal, willing it to return Fire from the knight back to the elemental plane of Fire.

Wham!
The Rod struck like a mace once more, but with far more impact. Ice crackled across the knight’s armor. Tom grabbed the Rod of Tommus like a baseball bat, willing it to suck as much Fire as it possibly could, and struck again.
Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham!
He completely ignored the knight’s strikes against him. He let himself be hit, he took the damage. He wanted only to concentrate on sucking all the energy from the knight.

With each blow, he imagined the electrons orbiting the knight’s atoms relaxing, going to a lower, colder energy state.
Wham! Wham!
The knight’s armor was turning a dull gray all over. No more purple blackness. It was taking him a while to get the hang of this reverse Fire. It was different from cold fire, but not that different, if he really delved into the mechanics of each.

Wham! Wham! CRRRAAAAAACCCCKKKKKKKK!!!!!

The knight suddenly shattered like an ice sculpture. No giant gusher of energy, no explosion—it just shattered and then vanished. “BWAH HAH!” Tom shouted at the top of his lungs. He plunged the bottom tip of the Rod of Tommus into the ground and reached to the magma tunnels, to the DoomNet. While the others continued to battle the knights, Tom focused on pulling flame through the DoomNet to the Fire portal. He focused on the cold rune, imagining it traveling through the DoomNet. Tom began chanting the cold rune over and over at the top of his lungs.

A deep chill suddenly fell over the battlefield as the temperature began dropping fast. As he gained confidence in removing Fire, he upped the mana-draining net. He was going to suck any excess mana away from his enemies as well. He needed all energy to go. Anything the knights could use to focus chaos.

If he was doing things correctly, the DoomNet would not only be draining excess mana that was generated or released, it would be draining Fire. Actually, it should be draining fire even more effectively, since it would suck up all the Fire that was present in the region. That meant it should be draining the knights of Fire. He himself was actually getting cold. Given that he was a demon, he should not feel normal cold any more than he felt heat. He was therefore reasonably certain the reverse portal was actively draining Fire and energy. Draining chaos.

The rain that had been falling suddenly turned to sleet and then to snow.

“Holy shit!” he heard a D’Orc yell. “It’s snowing in the Abyss!”

There, finally.
Tom had the portal completely reversed. By default, it would have drained Fire from the entire DoomNet, but he worked feverishly to restructure it. He wanted to focus the Fire drain to this region so that it would drain faster.

~

Lesteroth’s current D’Orc stopped ripping his right wing off in order to try and grab the snow that had started falling. Lesteroth used the brief lull to reseat his wing.
Ouch!
That hurt, but it would regenerate faster this way.

Lesteroth glanced down to see Talgorf sticking his tongue out, trying to catch snow on it. His D’Orc had also stopped squashing the smaller demon under his hoof to stare at the snow. All around them, D’Orcs and demons were stopping in amazement at the snow and the rapidly increasing cold.

It was suddenly a very cold day in the Abyss. Everyone knew to expect amazing things when the Abyss finally froze over. Of course, no one actually thought that would happen, but it seemed to be what was going on. Lesteroth laughed, looking at the snow.

“Wah hhabbaahnning?” came Bellyachus’s voice from a few feet over. “Asz gold!”

Lesteroth wondered why the demon’s voice was so muffled, but looking over, he quickly understood. Bellyachus’s D’Orc had shoved the demon’s head up his own butt. It looked to be a very uncomfortable position for Bellyachus, but it did explain why his voice was muffled and why he couldn’t see what was going on.

VOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!!!!!

Sekhmekt killed her second knight, but no explosion happened this time.

“That is pretty impressive,” Lesteroth said.

His D’Orc tormentor nodded in shared amazement before hugging himself. “It’s damn cold here,” he complained. Lesteroth had to agree even as the snow turned to painful shards of ice, slicing at his skin.

~

VOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!!!!!

Morok killed another knight. It was getting easier as the temperature dropped. It had to be far below freezing at this point.

Tom charged one of the knights being shot at by the D’Orcs. He came up on the knight and smashed at it using the Rod and both hands.

Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! CRRRAAAAAACCCCKKKKKKKK!!!!!

CRUNCH! FFFOOOoommmshhh!!!!
A sphinx squashed another knight.

The knights were slowing down quickly in the cold. Tom had no idea how cold it was, but if he were to guess based on the previous cooling rate, it was probably closing in on one hundred degrees below zero Celsius; as cold now as it had previously been hot.

THUD! Voomphsss…
Everything went pitch-black for a moment. The gravity cannon had taken another knight.

Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! CRRRAAAAAACCCCKKKKKKKK!!!!!
Tom took out another knight. The more he did this, the better he was getting, or maybe it was the ambient cold.

Wham! Wham! Wham! CRRRAAAAAACCCCKKKKKKKK!!!!!

CRUNCH! CRACKLE! CRACKLE!
The sphinx’ stomping was getting better. The knights were losing their energy to fight.

Foom!
Talarius killed another knight.

Foom…Foom…
Sekhmekt killed another knight, quickly followed by Morok. Only five more to go.

CRUNCH!
Crackle.
Another sphinx.

CRUNCH!
Three left.

CRUNCH!
Two.

CRACKLE!
The final knight fell to Talarius and Ruiden.

Arg-nargoloth made his way down the dark corridor. He was tired; he’d been up since the start of the party, staying sober and alert. He had been heading to bed when the klaxons had gone off. Then chaos, planning and rousing his troops. Then the battle.

The fact that they had buried the demon army and forced them to dig themselves out had given them a huge advantage. They had been able to get into position above most of the demons before they finished digging their way out of the ground. At that point, between fourteen hundred D’Orcs and seven hundred D’Wargs, it had been more of a fun afternoon of glorious mayhem than a full battle.

At least, until the Knights of Chaos had started popping; at that point both demons and D’Orcs had slowed down to watch. It was so fascinating and the demons so beaten that the D’Orcs had only perfunctorily maimed and tortured them, the majority of their attention on the battle with the Knights of Chaos.

Of course, once Lord Tommus had started the freezing thing and draining all the mana, regeneration had slowed to almost a halt and they all became frozen and exhausted quickly. And then it was clean-up. He’d done what was absolutely necessary, but then left things to the more rested D’Orcs. Including Darg-Krallnom. The other commanders could assist Lord Tommus in dealing with the defeated demons. As far as he knew, none had died permanently, yet. Lord Tommus would decide which of the enemy would be allowed to regenerate, return to Lilith or otherwise be disposed of.

Arg-nargoloth was too beat to care. For now he was making his way towards one of the kitchens to see what food and x-glargh might be left from the party. He was not hungry, having eaten during the party. He was, however, ready to relax with some x-glargh. He had been sober for way too long. And after this battle, he deserved some x-glargh before it was all swallowed up in the victory celebration.

As he entered the nearly empty kitchen, where they had stored the extra barrels of x-glargh, he spotted a suspicious figure heading down a seldom-used and unlit cross corridor that led to an old storage room. That suspicious figure was quite distinct, as was the smell still present in the cross corridor. He grinned malevolently and went after the suspicious figure.

Arg-nargoloth had not followed this winding passage in many a century. There had not been any real need for going into this storage room. Until the recent hunting trips, there had been nothing in the room.

He entered the room to see Tisdale leaning against a barrel of something. “You!” Arg-nargoloth snarled loudly.

“Me,” Tizzy stated nonchalantly.

“Trickster!”

“Two-bit thug!”

They glared at each other in the dark for some time.

“Hah!” Arg-nargoloth shouted.

Tizzy chuckled.

“You win!”

“I do.” Tizzy grinned despotically.

“You know, I never believed you,” Arg-nargoloth stated.

“Very few did.”

“I thought you were simply spinning a fable to give people hope.”

Tizzy shrugged. “It did for some, yes?”

Arg-nargoloth sighed. “Yes, but not for enough. We lost so many.”

“I am sorry for that. Things took longer than expected.”

“And yet, you did it, and yesterday—the very day of his death!” The D’Orc commander shook his head in disbelief. “And then today? The Jilted Bride seeks to take us unaware and we see the full power of Doom restored!” Arg-nargoloth chuckled and grinned with joy and admiration.

“I had my doubts on the final timing. Afraid we might not finish the swearing in by the end of sixth period. Prophecies are such a bitch.”

“But the attack today didn’t bother you?” Arg-nargoloth asked.

“It gave me pause, but I trust him.” Tizzy shrugged. “He’s a good lad.” He gave Arg-nargoloth a wicked grin. “Plus, once I felt the World Gate open, I knew Sekhmekt would be coming.”

Arg-nargoloth chuckled. “She is good in battle. We should have involved her more the last time around.”

“Hindsight.” Tizzy shrugged.

The two stood there in silence for a moment before Arg-nargoloth said, “I should have trusted you.”

“Yeah, but again, not many do,” Tizzy said.

“I am not sure anyone does!” Arg-nargoloth said, laughing.

Tizzy shrugged and pulled his pipe out of the air with one hand and a foot-long, rolled-up, stuffed paper with another. “D’Orc doobie?”

Arg-nargoloth chuckled and reached for the doobie. “Abyss, you do not know how I have missed this. You were always the best demon weed dealer in the multiverse!”

Tizzy flicked his thumb and offered Arg-nargoloth a light. The D’Orc commander inhaled, bringing the flame into the doobie.

Tizzy lit his own pipe and inhaled deeply as well. “To be honest,” he said, pausing in his smoking, “I don’t have a whole lot of competition.”

“True!” Arg-nargoloth shook his head. “I still cannot get over your doing it!”

Tizzy tilted his head and grinned. “I wrote it down.” The demon took a quick hit off his pipe. “As it is written, so it shall be done!” he intoned solemnly before bursting into a giggle.

Arg-nargoloth burst out laughing as well. “You and that damn book of yours! You were always running around scribbling all sorts of nonsense in it!” Tizzy shrugged.

Arg-nargoloth paused in thought for a moment. “You know,” the D’Orc said, “this time around, I have not seen you scribbling in it. Where is it?”

Tizzy stopped inhaling to think. He grimaced as if trying to remember something, started to say something and stopped as if to think some more. He tilted his head. “You know, I am not sure. I haven’t seen it in some time.”

Tizzy squinted in thought and finally shrugged and said, “I must have misplaced it somewhere.”

Arg-nargoloth frowned. “Couldn’t that be a problem?”

Tizzy shrugged. “It’s bound to show up at some point. It always does.”

Arg-nargoloth shrugged as well. “Yeah. Well, as I recall, it was rather tricky to open.” Tizzy nodded.

Arg-nargoloth inhaled deeply, feeling the demon weed penetrating his lungs and nasal cavities. It felt so good to finally relax like this after four thousand years of misery.

In the dark room, Arg-nargoloth could just make out the white of Tizzy’s toothy grin lit by the embers in his pipe bowl, which nicely matched the burning red coals of the demon’s eyes.

The Demons of Astlan will continue in
Apostles of Doom