The Heavenly Host (Demons of Astlan Book 2) Read online

  Tut grimaced slightly. “He is well known in the cathedral, apparently, and it’s rumored that he is on very personal terms with Lilith.”

  Bess’s right eyebrow shot up. “You mean…?”

  Tut nodded. “Yeah, very personal.”

  Bess sighed; this was starting to look bad. If this greater demon was one of Lilith’s pets, things were going to be very difficult. She really did not need demon princesses, and particularly not Lilith, getting their noses into this. She would need to talk some more with her demon partners.

  ~

  “So that was weird,” Tom said as he entered the cave.

  “What was weird?” Rupert asked.

  “I was out flying around, stretching a bit, and I encountered a demon in human form wearing alpine climbing gear and shorts, eating a baloney sandwich on a mountaintop. He had climbed it in human form,” Tom said.

  “Well, that is one way to kill an infinite amount of time.” Tizzy shrugged, not particularly interested. He had been muttering to himself, having one of his odd internal conversations.

  “He also likes to ski on the really high mountains,” Tom said.

  Antefalken frowned. “There are several that do that in the courts, your new friend must be rather wealthy; skiing is not cheap unless you can form your own skis.”

  “He says he goes to Von Trapp or Slippery Slope,” Tom said.

  “Hmm, very nice stores. Popular among greater demons and a few archdemons,” Boggy said. “Never been, myself. Haven’t got that kind of money.”

  “What does your friend do?” Antefalken asked.

  “Sam just said he worked in the Courts,” Tom replied.

  “Sam?” Tizzy perked up.

  “Yes, his name is Sam. He works in the Courts and has a getaway cave not too far from here,” Tom confirmed.

  “Human-shaped demon you said?” Tizzy asked. Tom nodded. “Red hair, beard, drinks carbonated beverages?”

  “Yes.” Tom said, frowning. “I take it you know him?”

  “Tizzy seems to know everyone,” Estrebrius commented.

  “I know him. Haven’t seen him in a while; he must spend a lot of time in that cave. Don’t trust him,” Tizzy said.

  “Why don’t you trust him?” Antefalken asked.

  “I did not say I don’t trust him, although I don’t. I said, do not trust him, meaning Tom should not trust him,” Tizzy said.

  “Why?” Tom shook his head. “You’ve been getting rather paranoid recently. You’ve been rude to my friend Reggie, and now you don’t like Sam.”

  “I didn’t say I did not like Sam,” Tizzy said. “As his type goes, he’s quite pleasant and can sometimes be fun to be around.”

  Boggy was now staring at Tizzy and shaking his head. “So you don’t trust him, and you don’t think Tom should trust him, but he’s fun to be around?”

  “Yep.” Tizzy nodded and stuck his pipe back in his mouth.

  Boggy shrugged and shook his head, looking back to Tom.

  ~

  Hilda was enjoying herself. One did not get to do much hands-on work as a saint. Pretty much by definition, you just sat there on a pedestal. This was like her mortal days, going from patient to patient, examining them and treating them. The nice part was that she had a lot more healing power as a saint than as a human.

  Initial triage had been done, and many of the worst issues dealt with, but there was only so much healing to go around, at least when it came to thaumaturgy. It was relatively inefficient healing to begin with, and being mortal, the wizards had limited mana reserves and needed to sleep. Neither were a problem for a saint.

  Of course, technically, one was really supposed to focus on healing the faithful and there were not a lot of those here, but they had been working in concert with the Rod to drive the demons out, so they were allies. There was no proscription against helping non-believers; it was really more of a prioritization sort of thing. If there were more believers here, she obviously would prioritize them.

  Anyway, it was mainly broken bones from falling masonry, a few concussions, and some cuts and bruises. A lot of trauma, understandably. A lot of her focus today had been on the servants and apprentices that had been bowled over by fleeing demons and their paths of destruction. Like clerics, the thaumaturgists had their priorities: the city elite, meaning other wizards and their families; plus, of course, the very seriously wounded. Therefore, she was doing a lot of work with the lower classes, which suited her fine. As a saint and a former Sister of Tiernon, caring for the disadvantaged was a critical component to her ministry.

  She and Danyel had come by after breakfast and gone to the reception desk and advised them of her skills and willingness to help; they had been quickly led to the main infirmary and from there assigned a young page with a list of people to visit. Currently she was in a courtyard area tending to staff who generally lived in the city proper and came for help. They had had some people from the city itself, who had been wounded by fleeing demons, held in laboratories outside the palace as well.

  Technically, she supposed, as a healer, she should have been doing this yesterday, but as a spy, she had had other priorities. Hilda shook her head. The higher one rose in the ranks, the more priorities one had to manage. Danyel, who had been holding a man’s foot as she healed his broken thigh, suddenly stared over her shoulder and made a coughing noise before quickly looking down, as if hiding his face. What was his problem?

  “Arch-Diocate, Vicar General, here you see a courtyard where we have healers tending to the wounded from all over the city,” a voice behind her said. She did not recognize the voice, but the titles were rather obvious. She quickly tried to adjust her healing to be more precise and focused. She had been a bit lazy and had allowed for some aura leakage. She could not let them see her doing a healing ritual. Even as she finished healing the leg, she felt the presence of a group of people behind her.

  Hilda finished as quickly as was prudent and then stood and turned to face the group of people behind her. Sure enough, there was a high-ranking wizard in his mid-thirties along with someone dressed as an arch-diocate and another as a vicar general of the Rod, along with a few other Rod members. Hilda clamped down on her aura, gave a low-wattage smile and curtsied. “Holy Sirrahs,” she addressed the two senior members, “Rod members, my pleasure. I am Hilda the Healer.”

  The vicar general beamed in what seemed genuine pleasure. “Amazing, My Lady.” He bowed slightly. “I hardly expected to find someone in Freehold who knew the plural protocol for addressing a senior church official and a senior Rod official in a single greeting.”

  Hilda blushed slightly, both to appear natural and out of embarrassment for that slip-up. “Thank you, Vicar General. I spent my youth in Eton, where, of course, we are all familiar with the good works of both the Church and the Rod.”

  “Are you of the faithful per chance?” the arch-diocate asked.

  Was that a loaded question? Hilda thought to herself. She made a small grimace. “In my youth, I fear that since moving to Norelon and Freehold, I may not have attended chapel as often as I should.” She tried to look appropriately ashamed. Technically it was true; she did not actually go to chapel, although her day job was listening to prayers and entreaties from people in chapel, and for collecting mana and animus from worshipers and dispensing mana to priests engaged in higher-level rituals, typically in a chapel or other setting.

  The arch-diocate smiled and shook his head. “An all too common problem when we get caught up in our daily lives. But remember, prayer and celebrating Tiernon can be revitalizing and useful for everyday life.”

  Hilda nodded. “There is a chapel here in town, and I have been already; I will work on going more often.”

  “Excellent, and I must say your healing is very good as well, very fluid and relaxed. You are not a thaumaturge though, correct?” the arch-diocate asked.

  “Ah, no. I’m an animage, actually,” Hilda admitted. Alright—lied.

  “Ah, an old-school he
aler. Excellent work, excellent work. Well, keep up the good work.” The arch-diocate patted her shoulder. Hilda tried not to tense as she worked to suppress any hint of her true nature. “The grace of Tiernon be with you.”

  “And with you, Your Grace.” Hilda bowed her head as the party moved on. She followed them visually until they left the courtyard. She had not dared to use any Sight on them. She had no idea if they too were lying; if they had discovered her or not. If so, they were silent about it.

  Danyel suddenly let his breath out loudly. “That was tense.”

  Hilda smiled and gave him a pat on the back for reassurance. “Yes, rather unexpected. Definitely awkward.”

  “I would have a word with you, healer,” a rather odd-sounding voice said behind her. Danyel glanced behind her and his mouth went wide. She noticed that all of the patients and aides in the courtyard were also looking behind her in shock.

  ~

  “So you are off then?” Randolf asked Crispin.

  “I fear so,” Crispin said with a smile. “The calyphs must be brought up to speed and with these wards in place, I can’t just zap to Djinnistan. I have to physically leave the city, wander off somewhere into the woods and then zap myself.”

  “I’m not used to seeing you in non-Turelanean garb. Or non-djinn garb, as the case may be.” Randolf smiled.

  “Or non-ungarbed?” Crispin winked at him playfully.

  “So when are you coming back?”

  “I am sure this copy of the ball will cause every bit the consternation in Djinnistan as it has here. I’ll get besieged by an unending stream of questions, to which I’ll have little answer other than this.” Crispin held up his left hand containing a crystal ball with a copy of the battle. “I probably won’t escape tonight, so hopefully sometime tomorrow. What will you be up to?”

  “I hope to get a copy of the plans that Lenamare gave his team for modifying the wards. My messenger should be by later this afternoon.”

  “Those wards are impressive, and the information on how he was able to expel archdemons could be critical for the ‘thing.’ ” Crispin made air quotes as best he could with a crystal ball in one hand.

  “What pushes one out, should be able to keep one in,” Randolf stated, and Crispin nodded.

  ~

  Hilda turned to see one of the most unusual, if not the most unusual individual she had ever encountered. Her first thought was that it was a metal golem. However, closer inspection revealed a being of such amazing artisanship that, if a golem, it was a true masterpiece beyond the scope of any normal priest or wizard. This golem-like creature was pure metal, and almost every edge was razor sharp. Its arms and legs were curved with trailing razor edges along what would be the outer edge of a human arm or leg. Its fingers seemed to have retractable blades, as did the edge of the golem’s palms.

  “Hello!” Hilda beamed at the golem.

  “I would interview you,” the golem said.

  “Very well. Why don’t we go somewhere more private?” Hilda asked, gesturing to a nearby exiting corridor.

  “As you wish,” the golem stated.

  Hilda motioned for Danyel to stay put; this golem appeared exceedingly dangerous for living creatures. She shepherded it along the corridor to a small storage room, currently commandeered for bandages and other medical supplies. She opened the door and let it in, then entered and closed the door behind her.

  “So, who might you be, and how can I help you?” Hilda asked.

  “I am Ruiden, Sword of Talarius,” the golem stated. “I wish to interview you about his kidnapping.”

  Hilda blinked. She had never been interviewed by a sword. She had never actually spoken to a sword. In fact, while not an expert she was reasonably confident that swords were not normally ambulatory. “Well, I’m afraid I can’t help you much. I was out of town when he was kidnapped and did not return until later.”

  “You are an avatar of Tiernon. You are here investigating the demon that kidnapped Talarius,” Ruiden stated rather than asked.

  “Again, I am afraid I don’t know what you are talking about.” Hilda did not like this. This golem saw right through her.

  “Lies do not become a servant of Tiernon.” Ruiden said.

  Hilda sighed. “Okay, I am Hilda of Rivenrock and yes, I have been sent here to gather information as to the very strange goings-on here.” She put her hands on her hips. “So how did you find me?”

  “I followed Iskerus and Barabus into the city and saw them talking to you,” Ruiden said.

  “So you are working with them?” Hilda asked.

  “I am working to find and retrieve Talarius, as they were proving inefficient. I have started my own investigation.”

  “So you do not report to them?”

  “I do not. I am autonomous. My only loyalty is to Talarius,” Ruiden said.

  “Do they know that I am an avatar?” Hilda asked.

  “They did not seem aware of it. However, they are aware of healers of Tiernon who are in the city accosting beggars,” Ruiden said.

  “Dung beetles,” Hilda cursed. “If I agree to help you, will you agree not to tell them I am an avatar?”

  Ruiden paused for a moment. “I do not lie. However, if I am not directly asked, I do not have to volunteer information.”

  Hilda shrugged. “Well, I suppose that is good enough.” She shook her head. “My investigation is still quite preliminary; I am working undercover among the wizards to understand how the situation that resulted in Talarius’s loss came about. In particular, I am seeking information about the demon that has kidnapped Talarius. I hope to interview multiple individuals directly responsible for the demons that were in the city.”

  “But you have not done so yet?” Ruiden asked.

  “Not yet, but subterfuge is not something those of us from Tierhallon are experienced with. I am moving carefully.”

  “Every day that Talarius is in the Abyss is a day of agonizing torture for him. He must be rescued soon.” Ruiden said. “Humans have a very low threshold for agonizing pain.”

  Hilda nodded. “I understand. I will tell you what I know so far, and will keep you up to date with everything I discover. Is that acceptable?”

  Ruiden nodded. “As long as you do not take too much time; otherwise I will need to escalate.”

  Hilda sighed.

  ~

  Every moment I sit here listening to these insane demons is pure torture, Talarius thought to himself. He was, of course, being melodramatic. True demonic torture would be far worse; he had been well schooled in their foul techniques. He had read stories of demons peeling the flesh from their victims, rubbing salt on the muscle tissue and then replacing the skin and massaging them. Talarius shuddered. Only the foulest of dark fiends would even think of such things.

  Yet the whiny rantings of the unstable octopod were grating. His captor seemed to seek way too much advice from his ineffectual toadies. True, the bard demon did seem to have good information, but the others? Their obtuse and pointless discourse, atrocious non-sequiturs, unhinged speculation and absolutely asinine assertions were infuriating.

  Talarius stood up to go out on the ledge; he needed to get away for a few minutes. Even his captor had needed to seek some solitude a short while ago.

  “Where you off to?” Rupert asked.

  “Where do you think? The ledge. I can’t go anywhere else without more contusions,” Talarius replied, heading up the tunnel.

  “I’ll come too,” Rupert said.

  Talarius just shook his head inside his helmet. So much for some solitude. He went out, stood on the edge of the ledge, and sighed.

  Rupert came up behind him and took a position to his left. “The cave is pretty boring, isn’t it?” he asked.

  “It is, but such is the lot of a hostage,” Talarius replied.

  Rupert shrugged. “In some ways, we are all hostages here.”

  “I am the hostage; you demons are free to go about your business.”

  “What busi
ness do you think I have? I’m a kid. I have only been here a few times. This is the longest I have ever been in the Abyss. Trust me, I enjoy listening to Tizzy talk to himself no more than you do.”

  “You have only been to this cave a few times? Where do you normally live in the Abyss?” Talarius asked. Perhaps he could get better insight into the true nature of his captor.

  Rupert shook his head. “No, I’ve only been to the Abyss a few times, and never for very long. I grew up in Astlan.”

  It was Talarius’s turn to shake his head. “What do you mean, you grew up in Astlan? Demons do not live naturally in Astlan.”

  Rupert frowned, or Talarius assumed that was what he was doing. “They do if they were born there. I am a half demon. Tom is my father; my mother was human.”

  Talarius blinked and stared at Rupert. “Your mother was human? Tom raped your mother, who then begat you?”

  “Well, it wasn’t rape. They were lovers, but he had to flee before I was born,” Rupert explained.

  “So then you were born and your mother died in child birth—”

  Rupert shook his head. “No. What’s up with you?”

  Talarius gestured at Rupert. “You think a mortal woman could survive giving birth to you?”

  Rupert rolled his eyes and shook his head from side to side, and suddenly there was a naked human boy standing before Talarius.

  “I looked like this my entire life—well, smaller and younger, of course—up until my father rescued me from Exador’s troops,” Rupert said.

  “You are saying you looked like that, or younger versions of that?” Talarius said.

  “Yes,” Rupert said firmly, as if talking to an idiot. “I looked like a normal human, and grew up like one until I was about ten, when I started growing horns and such. I suppressed them to stay looking like this. However, I was exposed and the others in the village stoned and killed my mother, so I fled.”

  Talarius was silent, staring at Rupert. “So then how did you meet your father?”

  Rupert shrugged and looked out over the valley. “I made my way to Lenamare’s Academy, where I passed the entrance exams and enrolled as a student. My potential for conjury was sufficiently high that Lenamare granted me a scholarship.”