“It is starting to seem that way,” Hilda said, sipping on her hot chocolate. Jehenna took a sip of hers. It was a bit chilly in the early morning air. Hilda had brought a picnic basket with several insulated bottles of hot chocolate for their morning launch party.
“Back to the original topic, though. I find it is interesting that they have both the Oorstemothians and the Rod have timed their leave takings so closely. It’s almost like they are going to the same place, yet by different routes.”
Damien raised an eyebrow. “An interesting thought. Both said they were going to pursue the demons elsewhere. I wonder if they have information we do not?”
“I am not sure what that would be, nor am I sure where else they would pursue these demons,” Gandros said. “The only lead we have is Trevin’s, and I am sure they don’t have that.”
“I received no indication from them that they had even noticed the flying carpet,” Damien said.
“Although the sword did know of the carpet and the individuals on it. It did not, however, mention the woman being a goddess.”
“Thus, they probably did not make the connection Trevin did,” Gandros said.
Lenamare nodded in agreement. “I think it is but a face-saving statement. What are they going to do? Pursue the demons into the Abyss?” The seven of them all laughed at that ridiculous thought.
Chapter 99
Vaselle had not slept all night; he was nearly a nervous wreck. He had put the finishing touches on his spell, done some dry runs, packed up his supplies and tried to get some sleep. It did not work; sleep would not come. He was so excited and scared. Really scared. Selling your soul to a demon was clearly a risky, crazy, insane thing — but he could not let himself think of that. Or what hellish tortures might await him. However, if he was faithful and obedient, maybe his master wouldn’t torture him too much.
Yes, he had not seriously thought through that torture bit. Gods — at least, Etonian gods — did not torture their priests, at least not in life. They could, of course, be consigned to a horrible fate upon death if they were evil, but that was to be expected.
All through the night, his mind had played through every possible horror he had heard of about demon masters. Which, admittedly, was none. However, he knew the sort of things demons did to victims of misworded commands and such. In theory, though, if Vaselle was a good and valued servant, surely he wouldn’t get dismembered or slowly eaten alive. Vaselle was not that good with pain. He really should have considered that before extending his offer to his future dark master.
Vaselle made his way to the clearing. It took a bit longer than usual; some sort of big hubbub with the Oorstemothians and the Rod. Who cared, as long they did not get in his way. Once at the clearing, he had made the preparations for summoning Estrebrius; really not that complicated. He had then set up a small portable table and mirror and begun the preparations. He had a special paste made from his own blood that he used to draw runes on his forehead and chest. Around his neck, wrists and arms were bands with a single linking rune each.
Once done with this part, he summoned Estrebrius. Estrebrius appeared within the flame. “Greetings, master! You still want to go through with this?”
Vaselle was so nervous he could only nod.
Estrebrius could apparently see Vaselle’s nervousness because he said, “Don’t worry, master. Tom, or I guess Tommus, is a really good guy. You could not ask for a better demon to own your soul. Once you are all signed up, I’ll be working for him too... but then, I pretty much already am and it’s the best job I’ve ever had!” Estrebrius paused. “After working for you that is...” He grinned.
Oddly, that incredibly bizarre speech did make Vaselle feel a lot better. Estrebrius made a gesturing motion behind him and suddenly the flames leaped higher and higher, and then a hole opened up in the clearing. It was actually a hole in the middle of the fire, but instead of the other side of the clearing, he was peering into some rather fancy, if dusty, room bathed in odd red light. The room had several other demons in it, including a smaller version of the dark master, and a demon dressed like some sort of Sidhe — maybe a brownie? Then there was that weird demon with all the arms and legs, puffing on a pipe and sort of leering at him. That was disturbing.
Vaselle stopped looking at the room as the dark master came into view and stepped through the opening, crouching a bit in order to do so. Again he was struck by the magnificence of his soon-to-be master. So muscled, so powerful, and his... was he wearing a loincloth? That was new, and oddly disappointing; he was not sure why though. Also new was the giant rod he held in one hand, and a good-sized sack in the other. Vaselle scurried back as the demon stepped into the clearing.
“So, Vaselle,” the demon lord thundered. “You are still committed to this?”
“Ughk...” Vaselle coughed and cleared his throat. “I am, oh mighty one!”
“Uh, huh. Okay, then. First things first. When you discuss me with others, you will refer to me as Tommus; that is what I’ve decided to go by. You can choose the titles, as I have not settled on one. However, when addressing me directly, you will address me as Tom.” He stared at Vaselle.
“Tom?” Vaselle said worriedly. “That seems a bit personal.”
The dark master — er, Tom — chuckled. “I’m going to possess you at times, Vaselle, inhabit your body, like I did the priests and the Rod members. That’s what you wanted, right?” Vaselle nodded. “Well, it does not get much more personal than that.”
“Yes, master... I mean, Tom,” Vaselle said.
His master — Tom grinned, or at least Vaselle hoped that was a grin; it was really very frightening. “I will have some errands for you to run; you will need money for them.” He held up the sack in his hand. “Here are some rough stones; hopefully you can sell them or trade them for what we need.” He set the sack down a short distance away. Vaselle just nodded.
“Very well, let us begin,” Tom ordered.
“Assuredly.” Vaselle quickly went to his table and grabbed a scroll lying on it. It was a good-sized scroll with somewhat large letters; he had tried to make something proportional for his master — er, Tom.
“This is... basically a script,” Vaselle explained. “I have words I say, you have words you say. I start by doing a basic incantation to empower these runes.” He gestured to the ones on his body. He was wearing only his pants, which were rolled up to expose his ankles with the circles. “Then I create a link which I hand to you. As I do, I will start the words of the script and then we alternate... and then it should be done, at least as far as you commanded me.”
“Very well. If you are still willing, proceed,” Tom said.
Vaselle nodded and began the incantation as he had practiced without the runes or the few other material components. He established the linking of the runes on his body, empowering them, and then took the magical leash link, as it were, and began reciting from the script. He finished his part and handed the link both mentally and with his real hands to his master.
His master began reciting the words and suddenly Vaselle could feel his master pouring over the link like a tidal wave! It was far beyond what he had expected or been prepared for. It was overwhelming... it was...
Vaselle woke lying on the ground. All around him, leaves were charred to a crisp. His pants were also severely charred and quite damaged, but at least wearable. He had one heck of a headache, he suddenly realized as he sat up. He looked around the clearing. Other than a lot of charred leaves and the remains of the summoning spell, now completely dispersed, nothing much had changed. Well, there was that large sack and a note pinned to it.