“Hello,” Tom said hesitantly.
“Demon,” Talarius stated. That was not good, Tom thought. He hadn’t used that mode of address for some time. “We have some questions for you.” He gestured to Ruiden beside him.
“Okay,” Tom said, moving to a chair of his size.
Talarius rotated his own chair to continue to face Tom. “First: what do you know of New Jersey?” the knight asked.
Tom did a double take, flabbergasted by the question. How would Talarius know about New Jersey? He slowly shook his head, trying to clear it. “It’s a state in a country called the United States of America, on a world called Earth,” he finally said cautiously.
“A state within a country?” Talarius asked.
“The whole country is a federation of fifty different states,” Tom said, finding it beyond bizarre to be explaining his old country’s nature to a man in a suit of heavy plate armor.
“Second: what is a joint?” Talarius asked. The knight must have been talking to Reggie; no one else would use that word.
“It’s a rolled-up piece of paper with an herb that you smoke, much like a pipe. Have you been talking to Reggie?” Tom asked.
“Third: have you ever been to New Jersey?” the knight asked.
Tom sighed. “So you have obviously been speaking to Reggie.” He shook his head and carefully rubbed the bridge of his nose with his knuckles to avoid poking his eyes out. “What do you want to know? Just come out and ask.”
That seemed to give the knight pause. Finally, he spoke again. “Where were you before Lenamare summoned you?”
“I was at a party in Harding, New Jersey, with Reggie and several other friends who have somehow managed to escape being summoned by a crazy wizard,” Tom said, putting it all on the table. “And yes, I was a human just a few quarter-months back.”
Talarius simply sat there. It was very hard, actually impossible, to judge his expression with his visor closed. Tom was not enjoying this conversation.
“And your age?” the knight finally asked.
“I was sixteen, a few years older than Rupert. I turned seventeen about the time of the oath taking here,” Tom said, slouching in his chair.
“You expect me to believe that an untrained sixteen-year-old boy was turned into a greater demon in some manner similar to the D’Orcing, landed in a strange world and proceeded to foil the plots of his wizard master and group of archdemons, luring both the Rod and Oorstemoth hundreds of leagues to Freehold,” Talarius stated more than asked.
Tom said nothing. What could he say?
“And that this sixteen-year-old, newly arrived greater demon beat me in combat that was rigged in my favor, stole mana from my god, reversed a very powerful artifact and abducted me?” Talarius finished.
“Yes,” Tom said wearily. “We have both been together for everything else, so you do not have to repeat our shared history. I agree to it all.”
Talarius shifted in his seat. It would be nice if I could see his expression, Tom thought. That helmet made conversation quite awkward.
“So explain how a sixteen-year-old who has only been a demon for a few quarter-months has a ten- or twelve-year-old son?” Talarius demanded.
Tom sighed. “That is a mystery to me as well.” He gave the knight a weak grin. “When Lenamare first summoned me, Rupert was a student, an orphaned student at his school. He knew his father was a powerful demon, and for whatever reason, he decided that I was his father come to reclaim him.” He shook his head, shifting uncomfortably. “In the battle with Oorstemoth, on the ship, he was badly wounded — we thought dead. However, I took him to my quarters where he regenerated into his demon form for the first time, and he looked like a small version of me. He told me his story about being an orphaned half-demon and how happy he was that I, his father, had come for him.”
Tom rubbed the bridge of his nose. “By that point we were so close, and he’d just been through so much, and he was so very happy, that I didn’t want to — couldn’t break his heart. My plan was to give him some time, distance from his pain, and eventually explain things to him.” He closed his eyes for a moment and then reopened them. “But, unfortunately, the longer a lie goes on, the harder it is to break it. I just keep putting off the discussion I do not want to have.”
Talarius shook his helmeted head, and was silent for some time before finally speaking. “Am I to believe all of this?” he asked wearily.
“Talarius, if I were the super-manipulative demon prince that you think I am, and I were lying to you, would I make up something so insanely unbelievable?”
“Be quiet!” Talarius suddenly shouted, staring down at his sword. Apparently the two could communicate telepathically. He turned back to face Tom, and then rose from his chair. “I am going to get some fresh air, clear my thoughts.” The knight turned on his heel and proceeded to leave the suite.
Tom hadn’t even made it out of his suite yet this morning, and already it felt like a very long day.
“Do you think we will we hear back from the alvar today?” Tal Gor asked those assembled in Elgrida’s tent to break their night’s fast.
Lob Smasher and Elrgida both shrugged.
Zargvarst seemed to muse for a few moments. “If so, then it will be later in the day. He will want to verify that we are alerting people outside of our territories. After that, they will engage in endless rounds of discussion along with tedious amounts of indecisive whining. Normally, I could state as a fact that we would not; however, these alvar have been moving very quickly. Far quicker than they normally would.”
“Word should be getting out,” Tal Gor said. He gestured to Ferroos, the Stone Finger shaman. “We dream conferenced with the Shamanic Council at Mount Orc; they have all the details of the battle, the results and the discussions surrounding the prisoners. including Zargvarst’s promise.”
“They were very pleased, I might add,” Ferroos said, nodding.
“Indeed, the cheering was quite boisterous.” Tal Gor grinned at Zargvarst. “They will be relaying it out to all the tribes, as well as those in Murgandy, the Federation and Ferundy.”
“And to Jotungard as well, of course.” Ferroos nodded.
“Excellent,” Egrida said.
Lob Smasher nodded. “Of course, should they accept the deal, we have no way of verifying it,” he said.
“The Grove has set itself up as interlocutor; perhaps we hold them responsible for verification?” Zargvarst suggested.
“They do seem to like interlocution and getting in the middle of everyone else’s affairs,” Elgrida said. “Out of respect for their current usefulness, I will not use the word that perhaps best describes their function.”
Zargvarst chuckled. “Yes, no sense in insulting them to their faces, or now behind their backs, at this point.”
Tal Gor shook his head. “I get the impression that, for some incomprehensible reason, they do not find such words insulting.”
Lob Smasher grinned. “In truth, and while they may not find the words insulting, they would know that should we say the words, we could only do so as insults.”
“So when will Prince Ariel get back to you?” Maelen asked Trevin as she gently blew over her extremely hot tea.
“I have no good idea.” Trevin shook her head. “He was extremely frustrated, more so than I believe I have ever seen him.”
“Frustrated? That is not an emotion I would expect from an alfar,” Elrose said.
Trevin took a sip of her tea, smiling, then tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. “True, yet, nor would I expect an orc, or in this case, I suppose, a D’Orc, to get the better of an alvaran prince at the negotiating table.”