“Well, apparently those Etonians have some use.” Bess shook her head. Her dislike of the Etonians was not unknown to Exador or Ramses. It was something of a hobby of hers, apparently.
“Would an avatar of Tiernon even be able to pick up the wand?” Exador asked hypothetically as he took another bite of steak.
Bess grimaced. “I’m sure, if he or she were properly shielded. Look what Lenamare’s demon did with that artifact the Paladin had.”
Exador shook his head. “He’s not a paladin, he is a Knight Rampant. If you call him a Paladin, which is a lower rank, he will get rather peeved. They all do. You don’t get to be a Knight Rampant without having hubris issues.”
Exador shook his head, smiling. “It is so nice to see weakness in such otherwise insufferable people.”
Bess rolled her eyes; Ramses noticed and smirked in agreement. Exador was not one to talk about being insufferable. Although to be fair, none of them were.
Jenn watched Maelen and Elrose dancing with various denizens of the Grove around the large bonfire. Everyone was more than a little tipsy, including Jenn. Ugh, Jenn groaned to herself, she was so incredibly stuffed. She had no idea how those two could move, let alone dance. Furthermore, the world was spinning around her. Gastropé was reclining drunkenly in the embrace of two large-breasted nymphs, barely able to move himself.
Jenn was feeling so incredibly good and relaxed at the moment, she didn’t even mind Gastropé’s lascivious behavior. This afternoon, when he had gone off bathing with a bunch of nymphs and dryads, she had been quite peeved for some reason. She was not exactly sure why now, but she had been. She herself had turned down multiple invitations for carnal relations. She had to admit, now in her current state, that that might have been a mistake, but what was the point of staying chaste for that special someone, if you gave it up at the first real opportunity?
Oh, and what an opportunity. She glanced over to see the aetós sitting around in a group with various nymphs and dryads on their laps. She would not mind being the nymph on Danfaêr’s lap. Snuggled in his strong arms, his rock-hard chest pressed against her back, his rigid — Jenn shook her head, trying to clear it of such thoughts.
She needed to remind herself what a very productive day this had been. The Grove was a thaumaturge’s paradise. There were plants here, in this single location, from all over Astlan, and apparently several other planes because there were quite a large number she did not recognize. Moreover, they were almost all in season. It was very odd, actually. However, she was not one to turn down the opportunity to stock up on esoteric and nearly impossible-to-find spell components. She had ended up having to ask Danfaêr if he could find her some spare sacks she could use, as her backpack was getting too full. He cheerfully complied and she now had an extremely large sack filled with smaller sacks of precious ingredients for spells and some potions and remedies. Today had literally been a field day!
She had to admit, this place could be mistaken for heaven. Clearly, Gastropé was mistaking it for such. She glanced over at him as the nymphs were taking turns kissing him. Jenn shook her head, disgusted, yet feeling oddly disconnected and removed. She poured herself some more alvaren ice wine. It was so incredible!
Even the normally staid Elrose was enjoying himself out there dancing. He really was an incredible dancer. Maelen looked a bit shaky in comparison, although Jenn doubted she could have done any better, and Maelen was an old man. Not as old as Trevin, of course — and where was she? Jenn glanced around. Oh, there she was. The enchantress was giving this insanely huge satyr a lap dance, her fleshy, full, yet firm thighs undulating obscenely in the satyr’s lap. Her taut back with its supple skin was exposed by her too-tight, revealing outfit. She arched her back, bending over backward in his lap, revealing her large, firm breasts to the clearing. Her youthful cheeks were glowing red with warmth, her full, pouting lips smiling with lascivious delight.
Jenn fuzzily wondered why she had ever thought this young enchantress was old. The woman more than held her own against the nymphs and dryads. She had pitied Maelen and Elrose for being locked up in that underground meeting room with the enchantress and other elders of the Grove, but seeing her now, Jenn realized the two men might have enjoyed the close confines with the enchantress.
Tom and Antefalken sat on a boulder outside Tom’s cave. Reggie, Rupert and Talarius had all wanted to sleep. Talarius was still healing, Reggie was new and, Tom was sure, exhausted. Rupert just had bad habits; hopefully he would grow out of them. Although to be fair, Tom reflected, just going unconscious and letting the world go by without him sometimes seemed appealing.
Tizzy, Estrebrius and Boggy were about a thousand feet away, arguing about where to take Rupert sightseeing tomorrow. They were all going a bit stir crazy, stuck in the cave endlessly rehashing things, so they had decided to take Rupert and Talarius sightseeing. It would also be good for Reggie and Tom.
“So you think I should take this crazy wizard up on his offer?” Tom asked Antefalken.
The bard sighed. “I am conflicted, but I think it could be useful. You may need to get out of the Abyss in a hurry at some point, and having a warlock that you can directly contact via link and have summon you could be extremely useful. It is also a lot more reliable than hijacking random summoning spells.”
Tom gave a short laugh. “Yes, and it’s far less likely to scare the crap out of someone and get another army after me.”
“Exactly,” Antefalken agreed.
“However, why do you think I might need to get out of the Abyss in a hurry?”
Antefalken grimaced. “Well, it may be nothing, but Lilith was pretty insistent on your coming to stay with her. If she were to somehow locate you, fleeing to Astlan would be one of the best ways to avoid her.” He shrugged. “Of course, by that logic, you would probably want to find warlocks in multiple planes, make yourself even harder to find.”
“If that’s such a good idea, why don’t more demons have hidden warlocks?” Tom asked.
Antefalken shrugged again. “I don’t know that they don’t; not if they are hidden as you say. However, my suspicion is that the princes and archdemons have more reliable ways to get where they want to go on the Planes of Men than depending on warlocks.”
“I don’t suppose you have any idea how one links to a wizard to make them a warlock?” Tom asked.
Antefalken shook his head and laughed. “You are our resident expert on possession and such things.”
“Argh. I was afraid you were going to say that.”
“If it helps,” Antefalken said, “from what I’ve read and heard, a warlock is to a demon not unlike a familiar is to a wizard. So that might be one route.”
“A familiar — you mean a black cat or something?” Tom asked.
Antefalken nodded. “That is a common one, but a familiar can be any animal, and sometimes even an imp or other small demon.”
“But I’m guessing you don’t know the familiar spell?” Tom asked.
Antefalken held his hands open in front of him. “Sorry. I’m a bard, not a wizard. I can read some runes and do a few small tricks to entertain people, but wizardry is not one of my skills.”
“You don’t suppose I can get him to cast a familiar binding spell on himself, do you?” Tom asked jokingly.
Antefalken looked thoughtful for a moment. “You know, there might be some logic in that.”
Tom shook his head. “Huh? What do you mean?”
“Well, think about it. He is subjecting himself to your will, giving himself up to be your warlock. It seems only fitting that he should be the one who does the binding, so that there is no question of his doing it of his own free will. It is an unusual sort of thing, but you can also frame it as a test for him. Have him do this; it will test his resolve to see if he is serious. He would probably have to go away and figure out how to do it; this would give him plenty of time to reconsider his actions. You could also make it clear that there will be no punishment if he changes his mind.”