The Heavenly Host (Demons of Astlan Book 2) (18 page)

Estrebrius grinned rather oddly and wrung his hands. “Great One, do as you please. I’m just so grateful you are considering it. I swear, my master is no threat to you. He does not have that much power, and as humans go, he is a good man. He’s never tried to screw me over; he’s really the best master I’ve ever had!”

Tom nodded. “Boggy?”

“Estrebrius has talked about this master with me before, and he sounds pretty reasonable. Moreover, I am pretty sure he can’t hurt you in any way. You’ve been dealing with far greater wizards than Vaselle.”

“Antefalken?” Tom turned his head to the bard.

Antefalken shrugged. “I don’t know the man, but my guess is that he’s an average wizard, certainly not on par with any of the Council members. Lenamare and his crew are far more dangerous and you have taken their measure. He’ll be stronger than Gastropé, I’d bet, but probably not that much stronger.”

“And you don’t think it’s a trap?” Tom asked.

Estrebrius shook his head from side to side, vehemently indicating it was not.

Antefalken responded, “Not this soon. Given what everyone in Freehold has probably heard or seen, anyone thinking of setting a trap would want more time for preparation. Quite a bit more time.”

“Did you hear something?” Reggie suddenly asked, turning around in circles as if looking for the source of something he had just heard.

Tom glanced at him, but continued, “Okay, so let’s agree to that, then. See what he wants; otherwise, such an insane request is probably going to bug me until I find out.” Estrebrius was looking very ecstatic. Or something—Tom couldn’t tell what, sort of pleased and terrified at the same time. Tom did not know, but everyone on both of these planes was simply too strange to understand.

“There she is!” Reggie was pointing to a blank wall. Everyone else looked at him in puzzlement. Tom realized suddenly that he could see through Reggie, that he had become translucent and then quickly transparent, and then had vanished. Interesting, Tom thought to himself. He had wondered what his fading looked like to people around him.

“Time to get to work!” Tizzy chuckled.

“So, Estrebrius?” Tom asked, and the little demon turned back to him. “When did your master say he’d contact you again?”

“Shortly after dawn in Freehold. He has to wait for the gates to open and then go a ways out into the woods away from the two armies.”

“Anyone got a watch?” Tom asked.

Antefalken laughed. “It gets hard to tell time between the realms, but it shouldn’t be that long; maybe a few hours by the time he gets out of the city. That’s the same time Damien would normally summon me.”

“Have you heard anything more from him?” Tom asked.

“No. My guess is that the city is still sealed off from extra-planar forces and communication. Well, actually, we know that from Estrebrius here.” Antefalken shrugged. “I have to admit to some curiosity in knowing how much the Council knows about what happened outside the wall. If they got reports, they are probably freaking out pretty badly at this point.”

Tizzy and Boggy both laughed.

“I wonder what Jenn is thinking?” Rupert asked.

Tom shook his head. “I am sure she’s not worried about Edwyrd, but she will be a basket case about you.”

“We have a good idea what the demonic response is; we can guess what the Rod and Tiernon’s church’s response might be; but we don’t have any idea about what the Council knows or what the next move will be for Oorstemoth.”

“I am sure my master can give you a good report about what people in Freehold know,” Estrebrius chimed in. Antefalken nodded.

DOF +2

Still Predawn 15-19-440

Gastropé woke to a knock on his door. “I’m up!” he yelled to the knocker. He wearily conjured a mage light to illuminate the dark little chamber; it was still quite some time before dawn. He had barely slept; he had tossed and turned all night worrying about how the binding had become attached to him. He had not even noticed it! He had run every scenario over in his head, and nothing made any sense.

He used the chamber pot and then washed his hands and face with the cold water in the bowl on a stand in one corner. He had no mirror, and it was rather dark even with the mage light, so he decided not to try and shave—not that he had that much to shave. He shrugged and got dressed, then packed up what little he had taken out last night. Finally he seated his turban on his head. That was one nice advantage to prewound, sewn turbans; you did not have to worry about combing your hair. Traditional wrapped turbans made a mess of anything other than short hair; the prewound type, which his father insisted was an abomination, were more like a hat and not as bad.

Gastropé had taken to wearing a prewound turban during wizard school, when a friend had introduced him to a turban winder who could sew small secret compartments into the bands of the turban, where one could then secretly store spell components, money or small tools. This convenience, plus the convenience of not having to wind it every day had driven him to the dark side, as his father called it. Gastropé had to chuckle. His father had no problem with his wanting to learn how to summon demons, but wearing a prewound turban—that was where he drew the line. Fortunately his father, while a traditionalist, was pretty soft hearted for a shopkeeper.

Gastropé made his way down to the main hall where they were to meet. Jenn and Maelen were already there eating some meats, cheeses, fruits and bread that had been laid out by even earlier-rising servants for them to break their fast on.

Jenn frowned as he approached.  “Did you get attacked by a necromancer in your sleep? You look like a barely risen corpse!”

Maelen chuckled as he popped a yellow piece of melon in his mouth.

“I didn’t sleep very well.” Gastropé looked around the room. There was a servant over by the fireplace, tending it, but no one else was around yet. “Take a look at me with your wizard sight,” he said to them, “and whatever it is you do similarly. Do you notice anything odd? Say, around here?” He gestured to his chest.

Jenn frowned again and shook her head, but muttered the incantation for her wizard sight and stared at him. Maelen simply looked at him intently. “I don’t know,” Jenn said slowly. “Is there some sort of string or cord coming off of you?”

“It appears to be some form of link extending”—Maelen’s eyes traced a path up into the air—“somewhere off plane perhaps?”

“Yeah, Trevin noticed it last night and complimented me on it,” Gastropé replied sourly.

“What is it?” Jenn asked curiously.

“It’s a demon binding going off to the Abyss,” Gastropé told them.

“A demon binding? You mean like a conjuror would use to bind a demon?” Jenn looked at him, puzzled. “I didn’t know you had any bound demons; you’ve never mentioned it. You know that’s sort of a big deal, given what’s been going on.” She sounded like she was starting to get annoyed.

“I didn’t! I have never actually cast a demon binding, ever! I’ve studied them and practiced them, but I’ve never actually bound a demon to myself before!” Gastropé waved his arms to emphasize his point. “I didn’t even know it was there until last night when Trevin pointed it out. That’s why I couldn’t sleep; I was trying to figure out how it got there!”

“So what or who is on the other end?” Maelen asked.

Gastropé frowned. “Well, it appears to be an older-style link for a second to third-order demon. Sort of like they used to do a hundred to two hundred years ago.”

“And it goes to…” Jenn prompted.

“I’ll give you one guess…it smells like funky pipe smoke!” Gastropé exclaimed.

“Tizzy?” Jenn asked in shock. “How could that be? Demons cannot bind themselves to wizards, it’s the other way around, and even then, a fiend like Tizzy could not. He’s said he doesn’t have any magical abilities, unlike Tom.”

“I know,” Gastropé gestured broadly. “That’s why I have no idea how it would have got there. I have never heard of a demon able to bind itself, and it is a traditional one way binding with me as the master, let alone one of that order. Have you?” Gastropé looked at Maelen.

Maelen was still staring at the link, apparently. “No, never heard of that, but following it, I am pretty sure you are right and that Tizzy’s on the other end of it. When did it appear?”

Gastropé shrugged. “I have no idea. I don’t usually go looking at myself with wizard sight. So it could have been there for quite some time.”

“Do you suppose the demon Tom did it?” Jenn asked.

“When? You’ve been with me whenever he’s been around.” That was a lie, of course; he and Edwyrd had spent a lot of time together, but neither Maelen nor Jenn knew that Tom and Edwyrd were the same person. However, Gastropé had never seen Edwyrd casting any spells. Besides, Edwyrd was an animage, and this was definitely a classic wizard spell in structure; not something an animage would do. At least, he did not think so.

Further discussion was cut off as Elrose and Trevin entered the hall. “Good morning, everyone!” Trevin greeted them. She was wearing what appeared to be a leather and fur-lined version of her normal attire. Much warmer, more rustic but still way too revealing for her age, Gastropé noted. That was one thing he and Jenn could completely agree on. Particularly when the enchantress started running her eyes up and down his torso while looking at him.

The two wizards took some wooden plates and began filling them, and Gastropé decided to do the same.

“Jenn and Maelen, I think your travel clothes for today are fine, but my dear Gastropé, as much as I love your outfit, I fear you may get a bit cold this morning,” Trevin said as she speared a large chunk of melon to put on her plate.

“I’ve got a jacket in my backpack I can put on,” Gastropé said.

“Good, you’ll want it. We are taking the lift up to the western landing, which is about a league straight up!” She smiled and looked at all of them. “We will then enter the western gate and take the tunnel through the mountain to the eastern front. From there, I will open the Fierdal Bridge at dawn, which will transport us into the Grove.”

“The Fierdal Bridge?” Maelen asked.

“Yes, it’s not dissimilar to a Prismatic Bridge, except that it only works when Fierd is at certain positions in the sky, and those positions determine where the bridge goes. At different points during the day, opening it will take you to different locations within the Grove.” She paused and smiled. “Some of those locations aren’t particularly pleasant, so you are all advised not to try to force the gate’s guardians to open it, or you may find yourself in a less than ideal spot.” She chuckled. “Like inside of Fierd herself!”

Gastropé made a sour face at that thought. Jenn was not looking exactly comfortable either. They were definitely going to be at the mercy of the wizard.

~

“What are we going to do?” Iskerus asked Barabus.

“I don’t know about you, but I plan to try to get some sleep before Fierd rises. Perhaps an hour or two?” Barabus put his head in his hands, elbows on the table. They and the two knights had spent the night being debriefed by a sword. A sword, for Tiernon’s sake!

Ruiden had gone out to personally inspect the battle scene and the site of the former hole through which Talarius had been dropped. Swords, logically enough, did not sleep. Ruiden had informed them that he would be working around the clock to find Talarius.

“I’m concerned this Ruiden—golem—whatever it is could be a problem.” Iskerus said.

“Do you have any idea how to stop him—it?” Barabus asked. “Its arms and legs are razor-edged blades, as are its fingers! Hell, almost every part of him is sharp. And he’s an animated inanimate object! How do you kill a sword?”

“By melting it?” Iskerus shrugged, depressed.

“Yeah, and who exactly is going to catch it to toss it in a volcano?” Barabus asked through his hands.

“Swords aren’t supposed to move on their own,” Iskerus moaned. “Sure, we all know about swords that can fly to their owner’s hand and such, but walk around and talk? Take notes?”

“Where is a heavenly host of avatars when you need one?” Barabus looked up from his hands. “I am reasonably certain an avatar could force him to change back into a sword.”

“Really?” Iskerus asked skeptically. “How many demons has Talarius slain? That we know of? Consider what Talarius did with Ruiden to that super-demon right here in this camp. You think the sword couldn’t at least slow an avatar down to get away?”

Barabus stood up to go to his cot. “Then we shall just have to try and reason with it, I suppose.”

“Yes, because words so often win out over swords,” Iskerus said sarcastically.

~

Jenn clutched her cloak tightly about her shoulders; the wind was wicked. Given their current location, she was extremely glad for the predawn darkness on the western side of this very large mountain. Their party was a tight fit in the lift and she had gotten pushed up against the side. Fortunately, the lift had cross-hatched metal wire walls; more like a cage or fence, actually. The walls were completely open to the wind, but they ran from floor to ceiling to keep people in with small enough openings between the metal wires that nothing very large could fall out. It was a tight fit with all of them and their backpacks; thankfully, Trevin had sent both her and Elrose’s extra trunks up earlier.

The darkness hid their true height as the lift barreled along up the cliff face. She had made the mistake of looking down as they’d left the keep, which was fairly well lit for their departure. The dizzying speed at which the lights of the keep had shrunk made it very clear how high they were rising.

The lift was basically two platforms, a roof and floor, with support posts between in each corner, wrapped in the linked fencing. It was attached—or guided by, she guessed was the word—twin metal rails that scaled the mountain cliff. The vertical rails were at each corner and on each of the longer sides of the lift cage. The rails were I-shaped and the cage sides each had a double set of wheels that ran along the inside and outside of the rails. Sort of like mechanical sliding drawers, except with wheels on both side of the guide rail.

According to Trevin, the roof and floor were inscribed with runes and gems that controlled high and low pressure zones below and above the lift. The floor generated a region of high pressure below it and the roof generated a low pressure region above the cage; the combination when activated caused the lift to rise quickly, or conversely to descend at a controlled pace by balancing the pull of gravity. The metal rails kept the lift cage on a direct path up the mountainside. At first the rails provided a gentle rocking, but by the time the cage reached its full climbing speed, Jenn felt like she was inside a dice cup.

Trevin had explained that the mountain’s abrupt height created extremely high winds which made it unsafe for winged creatures and flying carpets to ascend the mountainside; hence, the lift. Jenn could attest firsthand to the winds. She was feeling battered herself, between the wind and the shaking on the rails, but she was reaching her limits. If it had been light out, she was pretty sure vertigo would have conspired with the wind and rails to relieve her of her breakfast and the previous night’s dinner.

They were going a league straight up into the air. Jenn had never been that high before. Very few carpets flew at that height, unless they were crossing mountain peaks, but even then, most people would just fly through valleys to avoid going so high. Trevin had warned them that as they got higher in altitude, the air would become thinner and thus they should pace themselves once they got to the top, since they would not be used to the altitude and thin air. Jenn could attest to the enchantress’s accuracy. Her ears kept plugging up and then she would have to move her jaw to get them to “pop,” as Trevin had called it.

It was also getting quite a bit colder as they rose. She was sure Gastropé was glad to be wearing his jacket, but his silk pants could not have provided much warmth for his legs. She shook her head at the young man; he put his fashion sense ahead of common sense clothing. Worrying about clothes and one’s appearance was not something she normally associated with men, but doing stupid, impractical things was, so she figured it balanced out.

The lift suddenly lurched to a stop, sending Jenn slamming into the metal caging. “Ouch!” Jenn muttered to herself as her nose got squashed on the metal wiring exactly at the wrong spot. There were a bunch of shuffling noises, and Trevin was talking to someone outside the lift.

“We are here!” Trevin called out more loudly, apparently having turned to face into the lift. “Hethfar will place a ramp with railings between the lift and the deck for us to safely get out; however, I suggest you take his or one of his men’s hands to help you out rather than using the railing. “They are very strong,” she added, suddenly much closer to Jenn. She then bent her head to Jenn’s ear, eyes closed, and advised her softly, “And really gorgeous, my dear. I recommend fainting and letting one of them catch you in his brawny arms so you can get up close to his chiseled bare chest. Their scent is intoxicating.” Trevin opened her eyes again. “They use scent to attract their partners, but it works on other races as well.”