“I can’t believe this,” Jehenna said. Her voice cold with anger. “Sure, we speculated that the archdemons might get involved. Eventually they’d have to, but it doesn’t seem possible that they are already on to us. If one is on his way here...”
“It means that things are really getting bad, and we will have to devote everything to finding the book before it gets here. We’ve also got to adjust our plans.” Lenamare looked around. “However, here is neither the place nor the time.” He whispered. “Let’s preserve appearance, take your bath, gather your thoughts. We’ll pull an all-night planning session.”
“An archdemon?” Exador looked down at the small imp that had brought him the news. It had certainly paid to have these things placed in all the public corridors. If only he could get away with putting them in private quarters. Unfortunately they would be too easy to detect, and too much a breach of etiquette. “But, they didn’t say which one?” The small imp shook its head, trembling in fear.
“Damn,” Exador cursed to himself. “Just what I need. Well, at least Lenamare’s now confirmed what I already know. He doesn’t have the book.” He ignored the imp. He looked to the large water powered clock in the corner. He tried to figure out where his ‘allies’ would be at this hour.
Exador vanished from the room.
Exador reappeared in a long marble corridor. Looking around, he saw no one. Quickly he hurried down the long corridor, sparing not a glance for the large windows to the right and left. Red light shown brightly through the windows, daytime, as usual when he arrived. Down the corridor and up a flight of stairs. The second door on the left, if he remembered correctly, which he should, the last time he’d been there was only week ago.
As he barged into the room, Ramses hurriedly stood up from the piano he’d been playing. “Where’s Bess?” Exador demanded.
“How should I know? I assume she’s at her home.” He glared at Exador. “Do you make it a habit of barging in unannounced to everybody’s home?”
Exador ignored Ramses’ outburst. “Get her. We’ve got problems. More players.” Ramses stared at Exador for a moment, finally catching the import of what he said. Ramses walked over to a nearby mirror. Hurriedly he waved his hand in front of it a few times. Bess appeared in the mirror.
“Yessssss...” she purred, somewhat annoyed by the sudden call.
“Exador’s here. He says we’ve got unexpected players in the game.” Bess’ eyes widened slightly, then narrowed, catlike. Suddenly she was no longer in the mirror, but rather in the room with them. She looked directly at Exador.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.” Exador said, pacing. “What I do know, is that the Rod of Tiernon is marching on Freehold.” Both of his allies shook their heads in surprise. They were more than familiar with the Rod.
“Talarius?” Bess asked. A slow purr coming from her throat.
“Probably, I didn’t get the whole message, but at least one knight on a flying horse.”
“Who else would it be?” Ramses asked rhetorically.
“Further,” Exador continued, “they are marching on Freehold because they believe some archdemon and his entourage is going to Freehold. Apparently, planning some sort of assault.”
“But you don’t know which archdemon?” Ramses asked. Exador shook his head negatively, in agreement.
“Then,” Bess purred, “we can’t be sure it’s not just rumor. You know how the Rod always overreacts to demonic threats.”
Exador bent his head in concession. “However, Lenamare and Jehenna are planning strategies for both contingencies; I suggest we do the same.” Ramses grimaced, unable to disagree with logic. Bess stroked her chin, thinking, Exador guessed, about getting her paws on Talarius.
Maelen settled down beside the fire. He decided that maybe he was getting to old for the adventuring life. He would be ninety-two next quarter month, certainly time to start thinking about retiring. Slimemold! Most people his age were thinking about dying. He wasn’t quite ready to start thinking if that for a couple decades yet, but a gentler life-style might not be uncalled for. Traveling with wizards, demons and fellow animages who pretended to be something other than they were, was just asking too much.
Thinking of his vision, Maelen decided he’d better perform his nightly chore. For the last few decades, any time he camped in the wilderness, before settling down for the night, he’d scan the terrain for any possibly hostile activity. Maelen relaxed into a near trance state and opened his senses to the world. Nothing in the immediate ground vicinity. Up he projected his viewpoint, raising his viewpoint a few hundred feet off the ground, he looked in all directions.
