The Heavenly Host (Demons of Astlan Book 2) Page 14

  “Several thousand years?” Maelen asked. “How long has the Grove been there, as we know it today?”

  Trevin shrugged. “A very, very long time, longer than even I’ve been alive.” She glanced sharply at Jenn for some reason. Jenn could not help but blush, feeling guilty about her internal fashion commentary despite the fact that there was no way the enchantress could know what she’d been thinking.

  “As you probably know, the Grove is a refuge and migration center for beings fleeing other realms. There are numerous Sidhe there, along with nymphs, dryads, satyrs, centaurs, minotaurs and various related species. In particular, followers of the gods Cernunnos, Artemis Agrotera, Pan and Dionysus.”

  Jenn had never heard of any of those gods, except perhaps Pan. Trisfelt might have mentioned him, a satyr god if she remembered correctly. She was so busy pondering this she almost missed Tevin’s final remarks. “It is also unique in that it is multidimensional.” This last bit of information Trevin imparted as if an afterthought.

  “Multidimensional?” Elrose asked, puzzled.

  “Yes, meaning it exists simultaneously and well, I guess you could say contiguously, on multiple planes at once. Dimensionally transcendent is the term some of our druids use. One nice feature for us, but I’m afraid most likely disturbing for you two visionaries, is that this nature makes scrying and Seeing very difficult there, both in and out, since multiple realities collide/coexist in the Grove.”

  Maelen gave her a very odd look. “And how exactly is that stable? It seems to me that it would extremely volatile and dangerous.”

  Elrose had a rather disturbed look on his face and seemed to be in agreement with Maelen.

  “One might think.” Trevin shrugged.

  Jenn noted that Gastropé’s pallor had increased at this, predictably.

  They continued down the winding ramp and then down a long corridor before arriving at Councilor D’Vils’ laboratories. There were guards in Turelanean style uniforms and turbans guarding the main entrance to the labs, which seemed a bit unusual to Jenn. Lenamare just kept his magically locked. They had gone through the main entrance to the councilor’s space and then down a long corridor with doors on each side before coming to a set of very large doors that were currently open wide into a very large, domed room.

  Given the fact that there had been multiple armies with horses and a multitude of demons hiding in the nether regions of the palace, all the various wizards’ labs, the storage rooms and now this large room, Jenn was starting to wonder if the Council dungeons were not larger than the palace proper. The underground warren was full surprises. This room was definitely one of them.

  The room was a large rotunda with a domed roof with what appeared to be a large glass window at the apex. However, given how deep underground they were, Jenn doubted that it was an actual window. The walls were lined with ivy, particularly dense over long fluted columns spaced evenly every ten feet or so around the rotunda. The center of the room was dominated completely by a large dais with a circular ramp surrounding it. The ramp’s path led directly to two large round columns inscribed with runes and connected by a rune-carved arch, all of marble.

  It was definitely one of the most ornate and beautiful runic gateways Jenn had ever seen, which admittedly was not that many. Currently the gateway was off and the other side of the room was visible through it. In the room already were Lenamare, Jehenna, Damien and Lord Gandros, who were chatting as they entered. Several other people in Turelanean garb were in the room, securing three wagons’ worth of equipment and tending to the horses pulling the wagons.

  Damien came over to Jenn and Gastropé, smiling apologetically. “Sorry we have to basically kick you out of the city, but I’m not seeing many alternatives. We need the two armies to leave.”

  Gastropé shrugged. “I agree; I’m just happy you aren’t tossing us out the front gate and into their arms.”

  Damien chuckled. “A couple of members of the Council of Magistrates have suggested as much, but rest assured, neither council had any particular love of either the Rod or Oorstemoth before they decided to surround the city.”

  “However, and more important,” Gandros said, coming up on their small group, “what Elrose and Maelen have told us is quite troubling, and the city may be in for much worse than these two armies. We need to know what we are up against and this seems like the best investigative path available at the moment. I’m not sure what, if anything, this expedition will be able to find, but we need as much information as we can get to prepare.”

  “You’re sure”—Jenn looked at Damien directly—“that you’ll be able to get Rupert and his cousin to us once they return?”

  Damien looked a bit awkward for a moment and finally said, “At the moment, they are safely outside the city and a very long way from here. As soon as I am able to reestablish contact with them, we will coordinate. I am sure that if joining you is the safest course of action for them, then we can make that happen.”

  Jenn nodded. “Okay. It’s just that Rupert’s sort of been my personal charge lately and I’m just very worried about him out there basically on his own with Edwyrd. He has something of a knack for getting in trouble.” Gastropé suddenly coughed for some reason.

  Damien smiled. “I understand. We established a means of communication before they left, but the wards are blocking them. Once we can open up those lines of communication, I will have information on Rupert and will relay it to you.”

  “Thanks.” Jenn smiled, as relieved as she could be at this point. Gandros was now talking to Elrose and Maelen.

  Jehenna walked over to Jenn with Lenamare following. “You do understand this is very inconvenient for us?” she asked Jenn in her usual bitchy tone of voice.

  “Sorry, just obeying orders,” Jenn apologized, trying not to smile at being able to inconvenience the woman.

  Jehenna frowned. “Here, take this with you; keep it on your person at all times.” She thrust a small, smooth, rectangular metal box at Jenn. The box was made of some sort of black metal, about the size of a small jewelry box. It had a good-sized gem embedded on one side, with a gold rim holding it in the box lid. Well, not really a lid; there were no seams on the box. It was smooth with rounded edges and no discernable means of opening it.

  “What is it?” Jenn asked.

  “It contains a variety of sensors and recording equipment for monitoring power levels, fluctuations, locations and time,” Lenamare stated.

  “Yes. If you are going to go off hunting a goddess, we decided you might as well collect some useful information about deities while you are at it,” Jehenna stated.

  Jenn was puzzled. “But isn’t that exactly what Master Elrose is doing with all his gear?”

  Jehenna shook her head. “He’s trying to detect a goddess and solve the mystery of his visions; he’s going to be too focused on that purpose to record background and ambient information.”

  “Or power manifestation levels of the deity,” Lenamare added.

  “Power manifestations?” Gastropé, who had been standing beside Jenn, asked.

  “Yes. If she uses her power on or around you, we want to measure it so we can learn more about god magic,” Jehenna said, nodding.

  “So what do I have to do?” Jenn asked.

  “Nothing. Just keep it on you at all times,” Lenamare said.

  “Unlike your diary,” Jehenna added.

  “So then I just bring it back to you and you can extract the measurements?” Jenn asked.

  “That would be the preferred option,” Lenamare agreed.

  “Preferred option?” Gastropé asked.

  Lenamare shrugged. “I’ve got links to it, so I can always find it. The box is constructed of adamantite with mithral circuitry. It is as close to indestructible as I can make it. In the event that one of the goddess’s power manifestations incapacitates or otherwise vaporizes you, we should still be able to recover the box.”

  “And it would provide a great deal of useful informa
tion on the nature of a deity’s destructive magic, so we can prepare defenses,” Jehenna stated.

  Gastropé made a gulping noise, and Jenn frowned. “Great,” she said without a lot of enthusiasm.

  Lenamare nodded. “You are correct. It is a great piece of work, given how little time I had to prepare it. I do think it is one of my best arcane devices. And, again, on such short notice.”

  “Everyone!” Trevin was up on the dais. “Let me have your attention. We are almost ready to depart for the Grove.” She smiled brightly. “This will be quite an adventure for you, my young friends, and I include the two of you in that comment.” She gestured to Maelen and Elrose. “Master Lenamare will, in a few moments, order the wards to be adjusted to allow my runic gateway to open.”

  Trevin gestured to the gate behind her. “The gate will take us to the Western Outer Grove, which is about thirty-three leagues from the previous Abancian border. We’ll then have about a half hour’s journey, on foot, to the fortress at Fierd’s Rest.” Jenn had never heard of either of these places. Abancia, of course, she knew about; it was a long-defunct kingdom south of Turelane.

  The Enchantress continued, “We’ll have a nice, if slightly late, dinner there and then spend the night. We’ll need to resume our journey before fierdrise, which will mean taking the lift to nearly the top of Widow’s Peak.” She looked to Maelen. “Which, you’ll be happy to hear, only has an elevation of 1.2 leagues.” She chuckled. “From there we shall go through a tunnel to the eastern slope. With Fierd’s first rays of light, we will open the Fierdal Bridge to Grove Home. We’ll spend the day and a night in Grove Home as my crew finishes preparing the Nimbus for our journey, and then we’ll begin that at fierdrise the next day.”

  ~

  Wing Arms Master Heron sighed with exhaustion as he covered the crystal ball on his desk. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

  “A positively productive series of both post-active and pro-active discussions, if I do say so, My Lord?” Wylan questioningly stated to the arms master.

  Heron opened one eye and just stared at the protectator. Eventually he said, “As you say, Protectator, as you say; I am heartened that you are able to recognize this.” He opened his other eye and sat up. “Now, Protectator Wylan, I need to write a few things up from our meeting. Since we missed dinner, please notify Cook that I am ready for my supper, and have his people bring it up. Also, ensure he serves you food as well. I know he’s a stickler for people eating on time, but you were working with me.”

  “Thank you, Arms Master.” Wylan smiled, bowed his head and quickly departed.

  “Youth,” Heron muttered, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes again. He was not sure whether he meant the phrase enviously or as a curse. Perhaps both. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to rub out the pain centered between his eyes. The last two days had nearly been too much.

  The demon wave and cleanup, yes; that had been quite remarkable and unprecedented, but that was battle. He understood that; it was everything that had come after. Not the least of which was the contents of the crystal balling they had done. Followed by endless discussions with the Council, the Rod and finally, but certainly not least by any possible or conceivable means, the endlessly tedious and sublimely ridiculous sessions with his superiors in Keeper City.

  Heron wanted to pound his head on his desk in order to knock the memories of those insane, ridiculous, alarmist and never-ending discussions out of his head. Chancellor Alighieri, not unexpectedly, Heron had to admit, had been one of the primary troublemakers. Alighieri along with Chancellors Ain and Sagramn had led the arguments for taking the prosecution of the law not only to, but also through the very Gates of the Abyss!

  The insanity of this proposal was nearly impossible for Heron to grasp. The Abyss was the fulcrum of Chaos! How could one possibly seek to impose Law upon pure, raw, unadulterated Chaos? The Chancellors literally wanted to pursue the prosecution of justice into the Abyss! He could, at least intellectually, understand Alighieri’s desire; the man had spent how many tax dollars and how many years on that boondoggle of his? This situation was nearly perfect for that overpriced project; this was what it had been built for. Heron had not believed, however, that anyone had ever seriously thought they would have need or cause to use it. The very thought of pursuing demons into the Abyss and forcibly extraditing them to face justice seemed simply ludicrous!

  If only, Heron thought, he had retired before this engagement. He was old enough. He could have gracefully bowed out a year ago, or any time up until this moment. He had accepted this command, and he could not back out now, not even if the Chancellors of Law determined he needed to pursue his warrant through the Gates of the Abyss and to the very Courts of Chaos themselves. Well, then… but… seriously? Serving legal warrants to the Courts of Chaos? Did these fools even listen to themselves talk, or did they, like the majority of their audience, simply tune the sound of their own voices out? Heron sighed. If the Chancellors so determined, then so must he prosecute the law.

  ~

  A knock came upon the front post of the tent in which Arch-Vicar General Barabus and Arch-Diocate Iskerus were sharing a late night glass of wine. “Come in,” Barabus called. The tent flap pulled back and in walked Sir Gadius, who had arrived midday on Peace Bringer, his rather large, iridescent unicorn. Frankly, Barabus found the unicorn more disturbing than Talarius’s flying horse, War Arrow. At least he did not feel the winged horse was staring at him in judgment all the time.

  The knight bowed his head to the arch-vicar general and the arch-diocate. “My Lords, no luck on the missing Rod member. We have gone over the entire area outside the city a league in radius and found no sign of him. Further, intense questioning under truth sight has yielded no additional information as to what happened to the two horses and tack that have disappeared.”

  Barabus shook his head; this was all very disquieting. Apparently, at some point around midmorning, one of the possessed soldiers, still seriously wounded and recuperating, had disappeared without a trace. Vanished from a guarded tent in the middle of the Rod! Further, his tentmates, who had also been recovering from wounds— healing resources and spells had been devoted to the non-possessed wounded first—had all been completely healed and all signs of possession gone. Subsequently, two mounts, a mule and their gear had simply vanished from the stockade. Again, no one saw a thing.

  Iskerus sighed. “I do not like this.”

  Gadius nodded. “We have also interrogated, probed, Seen, scried, done everything imaginable to get information from the other soldiers in the tent. None, however, remembers a thing. All they can report is that they had been having horrible dreams, which they no longer remember, and then suddenly they felt peace, warmth and what they describe as the warm embrace of Tiernon. After that, they report peaceful slumber until we awakened them.”

  “The peaceful embrace of Tiernon—a healing spell of some form?” Barabus looked to Iskerus.

  The Arch-Diocate shrugged. “A very powerful one, by that description and given the level of healing that was done, particularly to the one named Mikael Rhys Barton.”

  “So it doesn’t sound like demonic influence then,” Barabus stated.

  Gadius made a snorting noise, “True, but then my examination of Excrathadorus Mortis shows no sign of demonic influence either. Quite the contrary.” Iskerus nodded in agreement.

  “Damn it,” Barabus muttered aloud. “That damnable demon has turned the world upside down!”

  Gadius nodded. “If only I had arrived sooner.”

  Iskerus chuckled, but not pleasantly. “No offense, my good knight, but from what we’ve seen or witnessed, I’m afraid if you’d been here, you would be sharing a torture chamber with Sir Talarius. That demon was not at all what we thought initially. It was clearly an archdemon, at a minimum.”

  “A minimum?” Gadius was too shocked by this admission to take umbrage at the observation of the value of his assistance. “I thought the ener
gy requirements for a demon prince to materialize on the Planes of Men was too great—that all seers and those sensitive to mana and the supernatural would be instantly alerted? How could a demon prince have been on this plane and everyone not known?”

  “Perhaps because it’s been here for a very long time?” A voice from outside the tent observed. The flap parted and Sir Sorel entered. “Perhaps it came during a period of great strife and upheaval, when no one would have noticed the power surge?”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be the cheerful one?” Iskerus asked Sorel as he entered, the Arch-Diocate smiling and rising to welcome the newly arrived knight. Sorel laughed ruefully and the two embraced as old friends.

  Gadius saluted Sorel, who returned it. “It’s good to have you with us, Sorel. It’s been a long time since we were able to do battle together.”

  “It has indeed.” Sorel smiled warmly and clasped Gadius’s arm. “I only wish I’d been here sooner. I dare say the two of us working with Talarius could have tamed this beast.”

  Barabus stood and Sorel saluted him as the arch-vicar general returned the salute. “Good to have you, Sorel,” the arch-vicar said solemnly. “We need all the expertise we can get. The level of infamy has risen to new heights on this battlefield.”

  “So I hear.” Sorel nodded, looking concerned. “What’s this I hear about negotiations for an alliance with Oorstemoth?” Gadius shuddered, Iskerus frowned.

  “Very preliminary at this point. We had good success working with them in eliminating demons fleeing the city, and their sorcerers managed to capture the battle on crystal ball, which has been immensely useful in dissecting what happened. You will definitely want to see it, and we should probably watch it again ourselves. However, first things first… have you eaten?”

  CRASH! BOOM! SCREECH! SCREEEECH!

  The extremely loud sound of a lightning strike followed instantaneously by massive thunder shook the entire camp. That was followed by a horrendous shrieking and screeching of metal wrenching that caused all within the tent to cover their ears.