“I’m fine, in part because of my demonic visitors. As to visiting, you know you can stop by when you like and I’ll host you, but…” Alserah shrugged, looking around the open courtyard as she took in the dozens of guards watching them, along with a few priests from the town outside the palace. Then she continued. “It wasn’t the hells, but I’d prefer to have that discussion in private. Would you care to join me in the palace?”
“That bad, huh? Sure, let’s go inside. I brought some of my private stock of whiskey, so if you want a nice drink, I’ll be happy to share,” Gandar said, his smile fading as he asked, “Who else is coming?”
Alserah led the way toward the palace at a sedate pace, amused to see that the gates opened well ahead of them. Obviously, the guards didn’t want to be disrespectful in front of two deities, which she approved of. Gandar could be easygoing, but he also could be stubborn and prickly when he didn’t know someone, which was why Alserah didn’t plan on introducing him to any of the angels or demons in the palace.
“Let’s see, I sent messages to Phillip, Ratha, Sidina, Ire, and you. You’re the only one I could guarantee would come, though, even if I’m sure the others will make an attempt to be here,” Alserah explained, walking a little more quickly as she realized Gandar looked impatient. He also looked worried at the list she’d rattled off.
“Alright, something is definitely up, then. I hope you’ll tell me about it once we’re in private, at least,” Gandar said, falling silent as he eyed the guards, then asked, “How bad was the damage?”
“Several thousand dead, moderate damage to a dozen cities, and we lost a fort. It could have been much, much worse, too,” Alserah told him, her tone almost flat. “If I hadn’t found the person who was controlling the monsters, we couldn’t have called them off as early as we did. I suspect we’d have lost at least three cities and five forts, in that case.”
“Sandstone,” Gandar muttered, shaking his head. “That’s horrid. My condolences, Alserah.”
“Thank you,” Alserah said simply, leading the way into the palace and into a private meeting room.
She raised an eyebrow when she saw the tea set sitting on a table, resisting the urge to click her tongue. Even if it wasn’t poisoned, which she wasn’t going to rely on after the last week, it was obvious that whoever had tried to anticipate her requests didn’t know Gandar very well. Alserah sighed, then pushed the tea set aside as Gandar sat in a chair, which creaked ominously under his weight. She doubted it’d actually collapse, but he had that effect on furniture.
Closing the door, Alserah ensured that the wards were active before taking a seat and letting out another sigh. She examined the teacups carefully, then nodded when she saw they looked perfectly clean, and not like anything had been smeared inside them. The tea was probably safe, but she wasn’t taking any chances. Sliding a pair of cups toward Gandar, she looked at him.
“A bit of whiskey would be appreciated, especially after this past week,” Alserah said simply, prompting Gandar’s eyebrows to rise.
“It must be bad, if you’re drinking. Alright, let’s see here…” Gandar said, unhooking a gilded flask, then carefully poured whiskey into each of the cups, though not much.
“Thank you,” Alserah said, taking one and sipping the liquor, taking a moment to savor it. It was smooth, exactly the way Gandar liked it, and oddly comforting, mostly because she knew that it meant she was with one of her friends.
“You’re welcome,” Gandar said, drinking from his own cup. It looked odd with him in his armor, but Alserah didn’t laugh. Gandar was the staunchest ally she had, and she’d trust him with her life. More importantly, she’d trust him with the lives of her people as well. After a minute he asked, his voice soft, “What is it?”
“Angels arranged the attack, Gandar,” Alserah replied, not looking at him as he inhaled sharply, and she smiled thinly as she continued. “They decided that since I didn’t kill the demoness who appeared in my courtyard out of hand, my kingdom deserved to die. They unleashed the monsters throughout the kingdom, and if I hadn’t had someone helping me when I went to deal with them, their trap would probably have killed me.”
“Rust and ruin, what were the damned featherdusters thinking?” Gandar demanded, setting down his cup with a clatter. “We’re their allies, damn it!”
“Ah, but this appears to be a splinter faction in the heavens. A group called the Society of Golden Dawn believes that the Holy Council has been too accommodating of demons and wish to strike out at any who would oppose them,” Alserah said, her tone flat now. “We don’t know the full details, of course. They’ve been keeping hidden for too long to unmask instantly, and the attack’s leader managed to escape at the last moment. What I do know is that they’ve betrayed at least two angels who started getting hints of their existence, and would have killed them if they had the chance. They also attacked a princess only a few miles from here and were going to torture her to death and pin it on the demoness who was my guest, and they’ve been working on ways to try to trigger a war again. Why else would they create an arrow that, if my magi are correct, would have pierced my defenses and teleported me into the heart of Venadiel’s defenses?”
Gandar flinched slightly at the last bit, shaking his head slowly at the mention of Venadiel, the god of darkness. Of all the deities on the side of the hells, he was one that Alserah would never challenge without having several other deities at her side, and that would only give her the confidence to draw even with him. When Ethris had reported where the arrow had been designed to teleport her to, Alserah had nearly lost her composure, and at the same time her relief that Kitania had torn it from the archer’s string grew stronger. It was also why she’d supplied Eziel with arrows that were heavily enchanted, in case they ran into an archangel or the like.
“Ah. That…” Gandar began, then stopped. Finally, he shook his head and murmured. “That’s worse than I thought it would be. I knew you had to have something big if you asked me to come here, but hearing that… Venadiel, really? He’s one of the five most powerful gods of darkness, and he’s old.”
“Believe me, I’d rather not think about it, either,” Alserah told him, taking another sip of the whiskey. It didn’t taste quite as good with the subject of their conversation, but she continued anyway. “I wish I had better news for you, but there’s nothing to be done about this. No, my concern is that we’re going to be attacked again, and I’m not sure where or when it’ll happen.”
“That’s bad, Alserah. Really, really bad,” Gandar said, rubbing his chin unhappily. “I mean, I appreciate the warning, but how’re we supposed to stop them if we don’t even know when they might strike? I can’t afford to piss off all the heavens by closing my borders to angels, you know.”
“I don’t expect you to. Mostly I’m contacting you because I want to arrange for your help,” Alserah explained, and she smiled as she continued. “The angels who were betrayed are preparing to go into Uthren to find some of the conspirators they know the names of. They’re trying to unmask the conspiracy, and when they do…”
“Ah, I see. You don’t just want to warn us. You also want to tear this conspiracy out by the very foundation once they find it,” Gandar said, smiling as he straightened, grinning at last. “If you were going to ask me for information, I’d wonder why you bothered. It isn’t like many people tell my craftsmen much, especially since the angels do their own metalwork, by and large. Smashing enemies, though, that I can get behind.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Alserah said, smiling as she relaxed a little at last. She continued a moment later, admitting, “On the other hand, we have no idea just how widespread the conspiracy is, so I want to have as many allies as possible. That’s why I’ve made a few overtures to Queen Estalia in the hells, since she seems relatively reasonable.”
“Really?” Gandar asked, looking at Alserah skeptically. “I wouldn’t think you’d call a demon reasonable.”
“Yes, but how many demons would hand
over Sindria’s Light as a gift for being nice to their daughter?” Alserah countered, and Gandar’s face went purple.
“She did what?” the dwarf demanded, surging to his feet.
Gandar’s reaction was comical enough that Alserah couldn’t help a smile.
“I’m guessing that another deity arrived,” Vinara said idly, polishing an iron wand and examining it critically.
“What makes you say that?” Rose asked, glancing up at the green-skinned succubus with a hint of a smile flickering across her face.
Vinara wasn’t the best company in the world, yet at the same time Rose appreciated how calm the succubus tended to be. Even if she did like taunting Kitania and everyone else. At the thought of Kitania, some of Rose’s pleasure faded into worry. Lunch with Kitania and Niadra the previous day had been unusually tense, and she wasn’t sure why. Isalla hadn’t known either, since she’d asked Rose about it later, but there wasn’t much Rose could do without asking them directly, and Kitania’s mood had been poor enough that Rose didn’t want to do that.
“Mostly the glow I briefly saw, along with a subtle wave of magic that felt an awful lot like teleportation,” Vinara said, shrugging as she smiled at Rose. “I’m not certain, but the sheer power in the glow indicates that it was a deity, in my opinion. If I’m to guess, it’s one of Alserah’s allies.”
“A fair point. Your ability to sense mana is far beyond my own,” Rose admitted, setting down her backpack.
“I think her senses are better than almost anyone’s,” Isalla murmured, running a finger down the edge of her sword.
“Mm, practice helps, and neither of you have a lot of practice sensing mana. It’s a useful skill, but difficult to pick up,” Vinara said, smiling a little more. Then she paused and added, a tiny bit grudgingly, “Besides, Kitania has a natural talent for sensing mana. If she was skilled at using magic, I suspect she’d surpass me, at least when it comes to sensing power. Speaking of which, what’s she doing today?”
“Alchemy,” Isalla volunteered, shrugging and smiling. “Last night she told me that she isn’t going to rely on magical healing and wanted to get at least a few of her healing salves made before we left. A couple of the court alchemists overheard, and last I saw she had three elves watching her and asking questions. It’s why I’m here, and not there.”
“So that’s why you came back,” Rose said, her smile growing warmer as she looked at her lover and teased. “And here I thought you just missed us.”
“I did, but I also couldn’t understand more than half of what they were saying. It didn’t help that Kitania kept having to snap at them when they tried to adjust the equipment, and I decided that discretion was the better part of valor,” Isalla said, shaking her head in disbelief. “It was like a feeding frenzy in there!”
“I see. Well, at least she’s getting some things done,” Vinara said, setting down her wand. The succubus’s smile faded as she looked at them, then sighed and spoke softly. “You know we’re likely going to trigger a civil war, yes?”
“No, we aren’t,” Rose replied simply, forcing down any nervousness, leaving her feeling almost serene as she continued. “If there’s a war in the heavens, it means it was already brewing. If this Society of Golden Dawn thinks that everyone in the heavens would go along with starting another war, they’re delusional, and it’ll lead to warfare. That’s how the three great orders were founded, after all. They were founded in the aftermath of a war in the heavens, in order to try to keep the peace.”
“Ah, I see. I think I heard something about that, but information about the history of the heavens is rather difficult to come by in the hells, or likely riddled with inaccurate details,” Vinara murmured, shaking her head as she let out a soft sigh. “I understand My Lady’s wish for peace, but I truly don’t believe it’s possible. People are too prone to creating controversies if there aren’t any.”
Rose nodded, her mood growing a little darker as she thought about Vinara’s words. There was far too much truth to them to make Rose happy, and after a moment she sighed and shook her head, murmuring. “I believe you’re right, but… at least she’s trying.”
“True,” Vinara admitted, adding, “Too bad this is pretty much my last chance to relax in a while. Going to Uthren is going to be… nerve-racking.”
“For you, maybe,” Isalla said, grinning as her eyes twinkled with mischief that raised Rose’s spirits again. “We’ll be right at home.”
“I do know where you sleep, you know,” Vinara said, her eyes narrowing as she glowered at Isalla.
A moment later she laughed, and Rose and Isalla joined her. It was good to laugh, Rose thought, especially when they didn’t know what would come on the morrow.
Chapter 5
The countryside around Soaring Heights was beautiful, Haral reflected, glancing around in surprise. A gentle rain was falling, and the sunlight was bright enough that she could see at least four rainbows. Lush fields were interspersed between copses and hills, and she had seen several lakes further inland on her approach as well. With all the flowers and wildlife Haral saw, she was startled that the area hadn’t become a popular vacation spot, at least for some of the nobility. It wasn’t that far from the core of the heaven’s, after all.
Regardless, Soaring Heights wasn’t frequented by the elites of the heavens, and that made Haral’s task both easier and harder. It was easier in that no one would really look too closely once she acted, but getting into place to carry out her task was slightly harder.
Isalla had told Haral a little about her background when they’d associated with one another, and it amused Haral how humble the young woman’s beginning had been. The house Isalla had grown up in was perched atop a hill neighbored by a couple of fields, and as Haral watched she could see a pair of angelic men moving through the fields of vegetables, weeding them with brisk efficiency. The house was larger than she’d expected it to be, with two floors and fine planks for walls, though it didn’t have any glass in the windows, just shutters.
“Mother, father, and brother… all of them are accounted for,” Haral murmured, a pang of guilt rushing through her.
Haral really didn’t understand why she’d been ordered to eliminate Isalla’s family. The three angels were no one important, not even in the community where they lived. Seimal, Isalla’s father, was a simple farmer who brought in crops that weren’t exceptional in any way, but neither was he poor. The ruddy-faced angel looked cheerful enough from a distance, though Isalla and her brother took after their blonde mother rather than the brown-haired man. Unlike Isalla, her brother Anpiel was tall and muscular, the type that Haral would have expected to join the military, but he looked happy as he tended to the fields.
Not even Isalla’s mother, Emmara, was exceptional. A pretty blonde woman, she briskly took care of work around the house. From Isalla, Haral had learned that her mother was the third child of one of the local merchants, and as such hadn’t inherited much of anything. It just showed how unimportant they were in the grand scheme of things, which made Haral’s guilt grow even stronger.
“I wish I didn’t have to do this,” Haral said, sighing as she continued standing in the forest, secure in the knowledge that her cloak would keep the angels from spotting her. It didn’t make her invisible, but it helped her blend into the background, and that was good enough for now. Instead she simply watched the family go about their day.
If she was going to end their lives, the least Haral could do was watch them and remember them.
“I’m telling you, I think that learning to grow rice is a good idea. It’s supposed to be getting popular in the cities, and we get enough rain that cultivating it shouldn’t be hard,” Anpiel said, leaning forward as he argued his point. “It could help us get ahead for once.”
“You’re not wrong about how popular it’s getting, but you’re forgetting something just as important,” Seimal said, pointing his spoon at Anpiel as he smiled, shaking his head.
“What’s that?
” Anpiel asked, frowning unhappily. The idea of growing rice had him excited, yet his father didn’t look nearly as thrilled, which worried him.
“The labor it takes. I’ve looked into growing rice before as well, and while it does have advantages, it takes a rather lot of labor to grow much of it. You have to create the fields that don’t drain immediately for the seedlings, then there’s taking care of them as well… no, I don’t think we can manage that, Anpiel,” Seimal said, shaking his head as he took another spoonful of food, smiling helplessly. “Not that I don’t like the idea, mind you, but we can’t, not with the two of us.”
“Indeed. It was bad enough when your father decided to plant another field back when you were a child, then discovered that he just didn’t have enough time to take care of all the crops,” Emmara said, smiling slightly as she tore off a piece of her bread to dip in her soup. “He practically ran himself ragged trying to take care of them that year, then scaled back to just four fields until you were old enough to help. It was a really rough time and taught him not to overestimate himself.”
“But—” Anpiel began, only to have Seimal cut him off.
“She’s right, Anpiel,” Seimal said kindly, shaking his head. “Now, if we have a good crop this year, we might be able to look at hiring a farmhand or two. It’s a bit of a risk, but might be worth taking. I’m not saying we can’t look at it, Anpiel. Just not right now.”
“Alright, I suppose that makes sense,” Anpiel said, sighing and going back to his meal. After a minute he murmured. “I wonder if they’ve managed to find Isalla yet?”
Seimal’s smile suddenly went stiff, his wings rustling uneasily, and Emmara’s smile vanished entirely, making Anpiel regret saying anything, especially as his mother looked down at the table, her hands trembling as she blinked rapidly, probably trying to force back tears.
Hell's Ascendant (Mantles of Power Book 3) Page 4