by Shad N Freud
∞∞∞
Deep within the Abyss, the badly scorched head - and only the head - of the Demon Prince Blkk’Wnng fell from the sky and landed at Marduk’s feet as he surveyed his lands. The eye of the draconic demon flared as it gazed upon the ugliest pile of muscle it had ever seen. Marduk squealed in surprise before giving the head a very sinister smile when he realized just what he was staring at. He shoved his hammish fist through the eye of the Demon Prince and ripped out the fragment of soul contained within. Marduk then summoned the rest of the soul and ripped it from the earthly bindings it had established on the mortal realm of Earth, bringing the soul to the Abyss in its entirety.
He picked up a large sphere of obsidianite that he’d originally prepared for another purpose and shoved the soul into it. The sphere began vibrating in fury almost immediately as Marduk laughed; he’d always wanted the skull of a Shadow Dragon for his lounge but had sadly not been in a position of power to acquire one before they went extinct. He then picked up the orb, shoved it into the jaws of the skull, and summoned a minion to put it on his mantle. He laughed uproariously as he walked back to his palace.
Life was good.
Chapter Fifteen
“So, let me see if I’ve got this straight,” the dragon-woman said as she administered healing to the badly burnt little gnome. “You’re a group of Inquisitors, an assassin for the One World Faith, a carnivorous Buddhist…and this little one is helping you as well?” The dragon gently brushed the gnome’s hair out of his face as she used her healing magics to repair the severe damage to the young one’s aetheric pathways. He’d overloaded his capacity for magic in a desperate attempt to protect another, tapping into a vast reservoir of pure magic - one that shouldn’t have been nearly that deep for one so young.
She reached down and gently licked the gnome’s blood, then reared her head back in shock. “It can’t be.” She looked up at the group. “What do you know about him? Answer me!”
Carl held his hands up in a placating gesture. “He’s an Oracle we picked up from a temple in Kyoto. He’s a sorcerer as well, a gestalt. He’s helping us to fulfill the Prophecy coming due,” Carl explained as he sat in his favorite chair in the mansion. Their ‘host’ had led them into Black Wing’s necropolis and, after finding the now lifeless phylactery - the dragon woman had been shocked, but shrugged, happy her duties were over - had led them to a door, as requested. She had then gotten to work restoring the tiny gnome, who was on death’s door, back to health.
She glared at the half-orc, her gaze seeming to bore into his very soul. She finally closed her eyes, and looked upon the rest of the party, as if judging them all. Finally, she placed her hand on the gnome’s forehead, and woke him up.
“Anyone…catch the number…of that truck? Because I swear, I got hit by a moving truck,” Jin rasped as he sat up slowly, careful not to move too quickly. He looked up into the most beautiful pair of grey eyes he’d ever seen, the slits betraying her draconic heritage. She had a timeless beauty about her, her age indeterminate. Her long silver hair cascaded down her shoulders, falling over her white silk robes. He slowly, painfully moved into a kneeling position. “My apologies, great one. I hope my sacrifice was enough. Tell me, is the Allfather here as well? Also, I’d have thought the afterlife would be a bit more…posh. Oh, and why is Carl here? Wait…I’m not dead, am I?”
The gentle tinkling sound of the dragon’s laughter caused him to look up. The woman’s hand gently lifted his chin and she gave him a small kiss on the forehead. “No, silly. You’re very much alive. And I have a few questions for you. Your mother, what was her name?”
“Tsuki. She was a priestess of the Allfather who was been raped by an American serviceman after the war.” He glared at the floor. “She died in childbirth. I was raised in the temple, where it was discovered that I was an Oracle. I was then cloistered for most of my life, until Carl here came and pressed me into service.”
The woman nodded as she stared at the gnome in front of her. “Your grandmother? Grandfather? How far back can you trace your lineage?”
Jin cocked his head to the side as he stared into her eyes in confusion. “No idea, to be honest. All information about my family was lost during the war, so I have no clue as to who anyone but my mother was. And I haven’t really had the ability to research my genealogy. Why?”
The woman stared at him for a moment, then began laughing. Her laughter became bitter as she made her way to the nearest lavatory. Jin watched her curiously as he carefully got to his feet, the confusion at her behavior evident on his face. After washing her hands, she strode back into the room. “I’m afraid that if I tell you, it would ruin the surprise. That said, I have to ask…just why are you people here in the Lascaux cave area? I mean, none of you seem to be archaeologists.”
Carl pulled out a copy of the dossier and held up a hand to forestall Cenere’s complaint about operational security as he handed it to the dragon lady. “I know, I know. But let’s face it, kid, we get attacked everywhere we go. OPSEC went out the window already.” While she read it, he pulled out the coin from the pyramid. “Jin here came up with a way to detect coins like this one.”
Her nostrils flared as she caught the scent. She looked at Carl oddly, then sighed. A small bag of coins appeared in her hand and she handed them to the Inquisitor. “My lineage has been collecting Momento Mori for centuries. These are some of the coins that paid for the death of Christ.” She grimaced as she let go. “As much as I normally would have extorted you for these, I can’t in good conscience doom this world by hindering your quest.”
Carl’s eyebrow quirked upward for a moment, then he smiled as he reached into his coat and proceeded to place a small stack of five-kilogram gold bars on a small table that rose out of the floor. He looked into the bag and counted eight coins. He nodded, pulling a final one out of his coat. “I hope forty kilos of gold will help ameliorate the sting of losing eight pieces of mithril.”
Her eyes flashed with momentary greed before she took a deep breath and pushed the bars away. “I can’t accept money for this. You’re on a mission to save our world from annihilation. You might need-”
“It’s budgeted. Take the gold and consider it a finder’s fee.”
The woman stared at Carl in shock. “A Grand Inquisitor of Greed arguing about giving me gold. Will wonders never cease? I’ll tell you what. What I wanted was a favor. I saw the part about time travel in the Prophecy. Keep the gold. I want you to promise me that, whatever the personal cost, you’ll do your best to save the Allfather. That is my price.”
Carl calculated the price of a resurrection spell, then pushed the gold back to the dragon. “Done. But, consider this a payment for healing our friend here. Jin needed healing, you gave it without asking for payment. Look, I’m not putting the gold back in my pocket and you’re not leaving without it.” As soon as the words left his mouth, the bars disappeared, the only sign the woman had moved was her picking up her coffee cup.
She leaned over and tousled Jin’s hair with a small smile. “I’d have done it for free, to be honest. If what I suspect is true, you’re going to be an important man someday, Jin. Perhaps after your mission is over, you might come visit me. I’ve no need to remain here any longer. Perhaps you’d like to see more of the world?” She smirked as she made her way to the library, her hips swaying gently as she walked away. “Carl, I hope you won’t mind if I peruse your library? There are a few books I’ve been looking for, and I can smell the power in the books you’ve got. Also, this mansion is a Jameson, isn’t it? Lucky bastard.”
Jin watched her leave the room, headed for the library. He then looked at Cenere who pointed at the library, mouthing ‘Go for it!’ Carl likewise nodded at the library. Even Zeke, who had been cleaning the filth off his sword and oiling his sheath, was pointing. Granted, he was using his tail to do so, but he was clearly agreeing with the others. Even the girls were pointing at the library.
Jin sighed, then walked into the library
where he saw the woman pulling a volume on ancient Roman enchantments off a shelf. His palms were sweating, his heart jackhammering away inside his chest as he tried to muster the courage necessary to talk to the gorgeous creature in front of him, his life in the temple a rather…lonely one. “I-I hope I’m not being too presumptuous, b-but I didn’t catch your name.”
The woman smiled as she opened the book, reading the index at the back. “That’s because I hadn’t given it yet.” She held her hand out and a small pad of paper fell into her hand, complete with a pen. She set the pad on a table, then wrote down a list of page numbers. She looked back up, staring right into Jin’s eyes as she wrote something down on a separate sheet of paper before folding it. “I don’t want to seem rude, cutie, but I’ve got research to do while I’ve got access to this place.” She handed him the sheet, then went back to perusing the shelves.
He nodded, then turned and left the library. Jin waited ‘til he’d left her alone to open the note and found a simple message:
My name is Frsst’Lsstr. You can call me Frost.
98%732#!0
Come visit me after you finish your mission. <3
Jin smiled as he folded the note back up and slipped it into his pocket. He gave everyone leering at him the finger and made his way to his room. He had enchantments to work on.
∞∞∞
Over the next week, the group looted Black Wing’s horde, storing the vast majority of the wealth and antiquities the dragon had amassed in the mansion. One seventh of the loot was happily handed over to Frost, who smiled as she quietly shuffled the share away into her own hoard. After the week was over, Carl removed his stone from the doorway and the group readied themselves to brave the cold once more.
“Carl,” Frost called as she strode towards the group, drinking a tall glass of ice water. “How did you plan on getting to the next leg of your journey?”
“Walk until we get within range of a cell tower and call in a ride. Why?”
Frost smiled as she pointed at the ground. The snow began swirling as she faded from view. “Jin, I hope to see you again.”
The swirling snow grew into a massive whirlwind, whiting everything out before they collapsed to the sandy ground. Carl opened his eyes and grabbed the handful of warm Mediterranean sand. Zeke immediately cast off the thick furs he’d found in the storerooms of the Neolithic Dwarves and looked around, basking in the warm sun. Carl scratched his head before shrugging and pulled out his cell. He had some phone calls to make.
In a nice house in San Diego, a gorgeous elf folded laundry as her daughter walked in the door. She smiled as she looked at her daughter, the girl’s bright red hair contrasting nicely with her green skin. “Sophie, how was school?”
Sophie’s bright blue eyes panned over to her mother and she displayed a fraction of her father’s temper as she went into a tirade about how this girl or another said something hateful about her father. Many of her daughter’s peers seemed to have an issue with the fact that Tristana’s husband was constantly away on business after he’d resigned his post as a Police Officer in New York and moved the family down to San Diego. As a Grand Inquisitor, he’d been able to secure housing among the higher-ranking officers, which meant that his family was well protected while he attended to Church business. While they could likely have afforded better accommodations, her home had been upgraded before they moved in, with armored walls, guards, and an escape route in the event that the house might fall. Additionally, Tristana had been teaching her daughter how to fight.
“Mom, what’s for dinner?” Sophie asked, breaking Tristana out of her reverie.
“Well, I was thinkin’ we’d have some nice Coq au Vin tonight. Unless ye’d like teh cook?”
Sophie’s eyes lit up and she quickly made her way to the kitchen. Normally, her mother cooked and, while she was an amazing chef, Sophie jumped at the chance to try a new recipe. She put on an apron, unaware that she was being watched from across the street.
Xsktzzlertz pretended to be an old woman walking her Pekinese. The tiny, fluffy dog was really a minor demon, a lemure, under a glamor, while he himself was a seven-foot-tall pile of thorns. The Abyss bred many forms of demon, and all eventually found some purpose in the grand scheme of things, whether as a soldier for one of the princes or as fertilizer after getting eaten by a stronger demon. He smiled as his partner muttered in Abyssal, “Why do I have to be the dog this time? I’ve been the dog the last seven times. Next time, you better let me be the old woman.”
“Are you serious? You really want to be the old woman? You get to be an evil little shit and crap on people’s lawns while I have to be the long suffering, doddering old bag taking you out for a walk.”
A hand settled on the demon’s shoulder. The hand bore a familiar brand. A gruff voice joined the conversation. “Annnnd that’s busted. Not a bright idea to speak in Abyssal right outside an Inquisitor’s house.” The hand became wreathed in green flames and the demon’s glamor evaporated, all seven feet of tightly bound bramble burning as the demon screamed in agony. The pup turned tail and tried to flee, only to catch a face full of Hellfire from the Inquisitor’s partner. He lifted his wrist and spoke into the microphone up his sleeve. “Demonic activity near Beaumont’s house handled. Increased presence requested.”
The female Inquisitor wearing an MP band on her arm rolled her eyes as she patted her partner on the shoulder. “We get off duty in three hours. Do you really want to spend them babysitting Beaumont’s wife? Besides, my coffee’s getting mighty low. Let’s go grab a refill, then get back to patrol.”
Meanwhile, Sophie smiled as she carefully sliced chicken breasts to make chicken carbonara. Tristana was watching from the doorjamb and throwing in advice every so often, helping her daughter learn by doing. The girl looked out the window only to see yet another squad car drive in front of the house and rolled her eyes. “Mum, why can’t we live in a place that doesn’t feel like a third world country? I swear, Clerics drive by every fifteen minutes.”
Tristana rolled her eyes in return. “Sophie, me wee bern, how many times do I have teh tell ye, yer da is an important man. And, as such, he attracts new enemies like ye do stray cats. So, if’n ye’d like teh live somewhere else, ye can feel free after you blow out all eighteen candles on your birthday cake. Until then, shut yer gob.” She smelled the air. “That chicken’s about right. Add it teh the sauce.”
A patch of shade under a tree rolled its eyes as the shaved ape told the other one how to ruin a tasty bird. She would be giving Xsktzzlertz and Frxssscrkx so much shit when she returned to Marduk’s palace. He had indeed been in a generous mood when she’d told him where Carl’s precious little family was. Just not as generous as she’d hoped; hence forcing her to do scut work with the morons assigned to recon.
Within the next few weeks, a strike force would be sent to “handle” the orc’s whore and the little piggy they’d spawned. She just hoped she’d get a nibble.
Chapter Sixteen
Cenere stretched languorously on the beach with zinc oxide on his nose and a bucket of beers on ice, wearing a pair of sunglasses and nothing else. He crossed his arms behind his head, soaking up the sun’s rays, working on his tan in the south of France, and enjoying the feel of the sun on his skin. And, he was pretty sure, the gaze of nearly every woman on the beach. Some of the men too, for that matter. And one particular gaze, from several yards away, was doing its utmost to remove itself from his person.
Camilla fought the urge to stare at the ridiculously attractive tiefling as he lazily grabbed a beer out of the bucket half buried in the sand, flicking the cap off with his thumb and taking a long pull on the frosty brew. She bit her lip as she forced herself to turn away again, looking at Sachi and Jin instead, who were busily burying Zeke as he slept, snoring gently under the Mediterranean sun. She covered her mouth to keep from laughing and ruining the tableau. Carl was walking back from one of the myriad stalls that dotted the clothing optional beach, fighting a losing battle
with an ice cream cone and wearing the most modest pair of swim trunks Camilla had ever seen.
Having seen every male in the group, save Zeke, in the altogether…she jumped to her feet, and ran to the water’s edge, wading deeply into the rather cool waters to try and put her libido into a coma. The fact that Carl was covered in scars, he was tattooed, and his skin rippled with muscles made her wonder just why he was so bashful. After all, the older man had literally nothing to be ashamed of. Most Infernalists had agreements between spouses, that so long as both parties were honest, anything went. In Carl’s case, it was almost legendary how unwilling he was to stray, no matter how attractive the woman who tried for his attention and affection. Some accused him of being gay, but she could tell it was a matter of True Love.
It was a bit of a curse, really; she could see relationships in other people. Literally. She could tell when someone was cheating and could see a sort of ‘string’ that lead to the other persons they cared about, each string brighter or darker depending on how they actually felt. She could also feel when the connection went one way. Of course, the one person she couldn’t see things for was herself. Carl’s string was a shining gold that was almost painful to look at. It was pure, true love. She’d only ever seen it that pure one other time, and that was between her mother and father who’d died protecting her from a demon attack. Neither of her parents had been particularly good at fighting, but they sacrificed themselves to give her a chance to live.
She grew up in the Church, and it was quite a surprise for her instructors when she had her first Cackle, the verbal component of a witch’s hexes. Hexes drew power from other worldly sources, part of the reason why witches were burned at the stake by the OWF in less enlightened times. As it was, she had to wear a license, not unlike Licensed Chaotics, due to the source of her power being unknown. It had a distinctly chaotic taint to it, and she used her powers in the service to the Inquisition, but as a member of the Black Hand since she had very nearly washed out of the Inquisitor program. While she might be an Inquisitor in fact, she was rarely referred to as one in title, her otherworldly powers making her a liability.