Chapter 42
What a day! Tom thought to himself. This has got to take the cake. Here he was, the responsible hero who lets a little kid wander into the enemy army camp and purposefully get captured. True it worked, but that was another issue. The more he thought about it, the luckier he had been.
After Rupert had gone down into the camp, Tom had allowed himself to fade back to his cave. He’d then sat and tried to ‘listen’ for Rupert. He’d also replayed the scene with the demons who’d captured Jenn in his mind. Somehow, they’d opened some sort of physical gateway to take her physically through. They didn’t just fade out. That would be a handy trick he decided. For one thing if he could do it, then he could bring stuff from Astlan to make his cave nicer. Finally, he heard Rupert calling his name, and it had been very hard to hear, he was glad he’d been listening. At that point, Tom had decided to try a different approach from his normal one. Instead of fading, he tried to imagine a doorway or hole that led to Rupert. He’d concentrated on it, and imagined Rupert calling him from just the other side. Eventually, he was able to see Rupert, in much the same way he’d seen Jehenna, and this time he just punched a hole through the image and opened a hole. From there he’d just stepped through.
It had been a completely different sensation, more like a momentary sense of vertigo and then there he was. No fading, no gentle switching of planes, he just stepped through, as if stepping over a large chasm. They’d all been damn lucky he had done it this way. If that hole hadn’t still been there, he didn’t think he’d have been able to get the others out. The soldiers had surrounded the tent.
Naturally, he could have killed them all, fairly easily, but in the time that took, Rupert and Jenn would probably have died in the fire or by the arrows of the guards. It was also nice not to have to kill anyone for a change. All he’d had to do was slightly maim a guy. That seemed like a major improvement. Nonetheless, it had still been too close for any real comfort on his part. He’d almost blown it completely. He really needed to think a little more first. He wouldn’t always be so lucky.
Tom looked over to where Jenn was trying to wake up the passed out Gastropé. Tom had hoped he’d seen the last of that guy. Unfortunately, for whatever reason, he’d been tied up with Jenn. He really couldn’t blame her for wanting to rescue the guy. Under more normal circumstances, say as in back in Harding, he would have done the same, probably. At least he liked to think so. Now of course, like in so many things, he seemed much more detached, more cavalier about such small things. Small things? he was talking about a man’s life after all. Not exactly small, but that was the problem, Tom just kept finding himself thinking and acting ruthlessly.
Not that Tom was the only one with mental problems in this group. Actually, he thought, all of them had severe issues. Gastropé was a coward of the first degree, no confidence what-so-ever. Jenn had one severe attitude problem, probably came from being a wizard. Rupert had finally lost the few remaining face cards in his deck, and there was no question that Tizzy was blatantly psychotic, neurotic, and a few other — otics to boot. The worst part was that Tizzy and Rupert were over there in a corner talking back and forth like old buddies. The little demon was certainly not helping Rupert’s condition. Whatever that condition was.
Fortunately, Rupert had agreed to listen to reason and not go gallivanting off with Tizzy. Following that, however, Jenn had informed him that she and Gastropé couldn’t keep their spells up for long and that she expected him to return them all to Astlan very soon. He didn’t know what spells she was talking about, unless it was the light spell, but Tizzy had made the same comment before asking about eating them. So, he had to get them out of there, he guessed. The question was, how?
He might be able to open another hole, it had been slightly tiring, but not too bad. Unfortunately, he didn’t know for sure where to open one at. Boggy had once mentioned something about needing a focal point for demons to find a place in Astlan. A wizard conjuring them, or something similar. The last two times he’d gone willingly to Astlan, he’d had someone calling him that he could focus on. He didn’t have that now. Would simply imagining a place he’d been, be sufficient? Was fire needed? it had always been there in the past. He just didn’t know. They really needed something like Demon-Ed. After all, if you had to take a class to drive a car, shouldn’t you also have to take one to be a demon? Being a demon was a lot more dangerous; to others at least.
Well, what did he have to lose? All he could do was try. Everyone else was busy, so he might as well try. What first though? His Tae-Kwon-Do instructor always said that a clear head was the first step in any process, so Tom guessed some form of meditative trance might help. Tom went over and sat down in his chair. He closed his eyes and began to relax his body.
Actually, despite all the craziness going on around him, Tizzy and Rupert babbling on, and Jenn comforting Gastropé, trying to convince him he wouldn’t be eaten, it wasn’t as difficult to achieve a trance like state as Tom had feared. He simply concentrated on blankness, on whiteness. He let the sounds of the others wash over him. Pass him by, and go on, like water rolling over a stone in a brook. He remained calm, serene, unchanged by it. He cleared his mind and slowed his, hmm, he didn’t seem to have a heart rate. After a moment’s pause to consider his lack of heartbeat, he resumed his blank state. He wiped all the confusion, all the warring thoughts and clamoring memories from his mind.
Tom concentrated on images of Astlan, as he remembered them. He concentrated on fire. Consuming fire. Fire which ate all, which gave all. Fire, the birthplace of the Phoenix. Fire, the warm bath which could only caress him, fill him with gentle warmth. He imagined himself encased in fire, he was the living flame itself. He remembered when he was first conjured. The chanting, the braziers, he brought them back into focus, as if they were there.
Suddenly they were there. The braziers, the flame, the chanting, all were there. A voice was chanting a summons. Tom felt no compulsion however, the summons wasn’t for him, but for some other. It was also a weak summons. Tom felt that even if it had been for him, he could easily have resisted it. Nonetheless, Tom concentrated on the summons, focused his will upon it, his very being.
Tom saw a room, different then Lenamare’s. True, there was a lot of paraphernalia lying about, but very different sorts. Not so much bat-wing and blood magical, but more incense and reverence magical. A bald headed little man was chanting over a small flame adjacent to the one which was Tom. He was waving a small medallion on some sort on a chain.
“By the Holy Azrael and Azaphael, I summon thee. Come thee oh demon Krysfalkenon. Thy Holy Master Verigas calls thee to do his bidding. Answer demon! The Lord Tiernon will not tolerate insubordination to his Blessed Priests. Come demon! I conjure thee by thy true name. Come demon, come now.” The little man suddenly stared into the flame that was Tom. “I sense thee demon, get thee into this chamber. Come, come into this most Holy Place of Power!”
Ok, Tom thought, I don’t really need a second invitation. Tom began to imagine his body as the flame, began to allow himself to fade. Then he remembered why he was doing this, and pulled back slightly. He couldn’t fade through, he needed a gateway. Crap.
“Arrest ye demon. Thou canst not depart! I have summoned thee, thou must come!”
Annoyed, Tom said, “Don’t worry, I am coming.” The little self-styled priest jerked suddenly, aware that something was dreadfully wrong. He’d heard Tom, and he knew it wasn’t any little Krysfalkenon demon coming through the flame. Suddenly the priest’s chanting changed. It seemed to Tom that he felt the ties to the room weakening.