Thaumatology 12: Vengeance
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Vengeance
The Twelfth Thaumatology Novel
By Niall Teasdale
Copyright 2014 Niall Teasdale
Smashwords Edition
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Contents
Part One: Herding Cats is Easy
Part Two: The Fall of Angels
Part Three: The Secrets We Keep
Part Four: Werewolf’s Holiday
Part Five: The Nature of Imbalance
Part Six: A Conference With Demons
Part Seven: The Dragons’ Teeth
Part Eight: The New Age
Epilogue
Part One: Herding Cats is Easy
Castle of Bones, Demon Realm, March 24th, 2013 (Earth Calendar)
The huge cavern behind the main entrance hall and staircase on the ground floor of the Castle of Bones had always looked too vast to ever be crowded. It had been built to house an army of dragons tens of thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands, of years ago. It had huge, vaulted ceilings, massive buttresses, and it stretched back a considerable distance into Mount Khed. The chances of any normal group of people filling it were small, but as Ceridwyn Brent looked out across the throng of demons below her, it certainly looked as though the place was pretty full.
Standing on a wooden platform at the front of the room, her dress a tabard held in place with belts, her Iron Crown on her brow, and her staff in her hand, Ceri should probably have felt quite secure. She was the undisputed ruler of the Demon Realm with access to vast amounts of magical power and, more importantly under the circumstances, absolute control over every demon on the planet. Unfortunately, having ultimate power had not quite prepared her for the sight of all the Demon Lords under her control, and their subordinate Lords, and their retinues, standing there, looking up at her, and waiting for her to speak.
At Ceri’s sides were Faran and Lily, father and daughter, incubus and half-succubus. Faran, dressed in deep crimson robes, stood on Ceri’s right, just behind her shoulder where he could lean in to provide whispered information as required. Lily, naked aside from her silver collar, cuffs, and a chain running from her lip to her right ear, was on Ceri’s left. ‘Lady Ayasha,’ Overlord of All Demons, would never be seen in public without her loyal, cunning pet, Lilith, but Lily was there to lend moral support as much as anything; some of these things were scary, even for a woman with ultimate power over them.
Demon Lords tended to work on the principle that bigger was better. The minor Lords, such as Torn, the newly appointed Lord of Shilfaris, were the normal height for whatever type of demon they were, and that was generally fairly large, but the greater Lords were usually taller. Physical stature employed in making them more impressive. Most of them were around fifteen feet tall, twice the height of a typical demon, over twice the height of a human. Some of them employed auras, either just light or something more subtle to manipulate emotions. Several of them were Devos, the best known of demons on Earth, tall, muscular, purple-skinned, bearing horns and a pointed tail, but there were other types. Ceri had only heard about some of them by reading books: demons who seemed to have had an octopus nailed to their faces, demons who seemed to be shifting masses of colour, insectoid demons. Demons had far more shape and variety than humans and it showed in this collection.
Ceri took a deep breath. ‘All right then, we might as well begin. Does anyone know of any Lord who has not managed to get here?’ It was like taking attendance at school. There was a rumbling as the assembled higher demons looked around, checking for allies, enemies, and underlings. The noise fell away and no one had said anything; Ceri felt like a school headmistress. ‘Good. I really don’t want to have to repeat any of this.’
Her gaze roamed around the crowd once more. She had talked to various people over the last couple of days in preparation for this meeting and she knew the rumours flying around. ‘First item of business,’ she said, ‘rumour control. Your new Overlord, that’s me, is a human.’ There was some rumbling from the assembled Lords; it was not loud enough to suggest that they were surprised, or particularly outraged. ‘I’m a sorceress, a descendent of Gorefguhadget, and of Brenin and Brenhines of the White City. My dragon ancestry may bother some of you, but I should point out that Lilith and I kicked their butts a few months ago. No love lost there. However, let me make this quite clear… none of that makes any difference! I am your Overlord and I have all the power of the Iron Crown to back me up. I have no qualms about killing anyone who tries to usurp my authority. Are we clear?’
There was a generally affirmative sort of mumbling and Ceri nodded. It was not like they could do anything about it with her standing in front of them anyway. ‘The main thing you should take away from this is that, since I’m human and prefer to live at home, you’re going to be allowed to carry on pretty much the same way you’ve been doing since you kicked Molech off the throne.’ That produced a more appreciative rumble. ‘Obviously, there will be a couple of changes. I have a different viewpoint on things than some of you. I have some personal whims which I intend to enforce because I can. I know any of the rest of you in my position would do the same, so I hope you’ll understand. If you don’t, I will explain my reasoning to your corpse.’ Another audience might have laughed, or felt threatened, but the demons seemed to be happy that Ceri was being honest with them.
‘Details… My staff here at the castle need paying and I need a budget to work with for handling diplomatic matters, buying myself new dresses, and generally indulging any urges I might have. Frankly, I don’t need much. I’ll be expecting a tithe of one per cent of your income. I’ll be expecting a payment every ninety days, starting in ninety days, covering that period. Lady Jubilia has agreed to handle my finances for the next ninety days since I was the one who put her on her throne and handed her Molech’s estates. Any questions?’
One of the larger monsters standing at the back who looked like a cross between a grizzly bear and a squid raised a hand, maybe a tentacle. ‘What is “per cent”?’ Faran leaned forward, whispering the Lord’s common name in Ceri’s ear. The crown she was wearing gave her instant knowledge of the true name of any demon she looked at, but the name they were known by was another matter.
‘Fulgarve, is it? Hire an accountant.’ The demon’s hand started to go back up. ‘An accountant is someone who knows what “per cent” means. I’ll see if I can arrange something which won’t involve you being cheated out of everything you own.’ That seemed to mollify him.
‘Next, on the subject of my staff, I am not going to concern myself with how you treat your own people, but the staff in this castle are off limits, strictly my concern, not to be touched. If you have a grievance with one of them, take it to Ruffa. He will deal with the issue. Not you.’ She paused to make sure no one was looking disgruntled and then moved on.
‘There is one thing I’m going to be putting my foot down on, however. Det, most demons in fact, have been discouraged from studying the magical sciences, quite forcefully I’m told. That ends now. If I find anyone persecuted for or dissuaded from getting any form of education, I’ll come down on you like a falling mountain.’
A hand went up at the front and Faran leaned forward to supply the name as the Devos spoke. ‘Lady, if the masses are allowed to
educate themselves, to study the ways of magic, we put our own power at risk.’
Ceri smiled. ‘Yes, Tollen, that’s the kind of excuse people have given for keeping people uneducated for millennia. You may find that you have to rule a little more fairly. You may find that your people are more ready to question you about your decisions. In return you should find that your people are more useful to you. Besides, I’m not suggesting you set up extensive school programmes if you don’t want to. I’m saying that if even a lowly det wants to spend time learning the science behind magic, don’t get in the way.’ Tollen nodded, seeming somewhat satisfied with that answer.
‘Lastly for this part of the discussion, I’ve opened diplomatic relations with the Fae.’ There was some rumbling again. ‘I know some of you have links with the Unseelie Court and I don’t expect you to shut them down, but I would like you to talk to Lady Ophelia about that so that we can coordinate our efforts. Ophelia is Unseelie herself. She understands the need to be underhand and sneaky at times. I am looking to increase trade between the two worlds. I’ve discovered at least one thing we can trade to their world. I’d like to hear from people who know of things we want from them.’
She paused again to check her mental announcements list, and came up with nothing she had missed. ‘We have a day or two here. I’ll be taking meetings in the throne room and Ophelia will be in her rooms handling diplomatic matters. If you want to meet with either of us, make an appointment through Faran.’ She turned without further comment, took the chain attached to Lily’s collar in her left hand, and marched down the hastily built, but apparently sturdy, steps to ground level.
Faran followed them down and Ceri heard his voice behind her as she headed off down one of the huge tunnels which led to the main entrance hall of the castle. ‘Lords, Ladies, I’m sure you won’t want to stand in line, so if you could please have your representative…’
‘Picking your father as a major-domo was a great idea,’ Ceri commented.
‘Yes, Mistress. He has a talent for it.’ Lily was in seventh submissive-half-succubus heaven. It had been her birthday yesterday and they had spent much of the day at Demi-monde, a fetish and BDSM club where she had been allowed to indulge her preference to play the slave to Ceri’s dominatrix. Then they had gone to work at the Tir inna Nok, a nightclub where they were both waitresses, and Lily had teased Ceri mercilessly by refusing to drop out of character. Then they had gone home to where Michael, Ceri’s werewolf mate, was waiting and they had celebrated Lily’s birthday again, and still Lily had remained the perfect pet. In the morning they had had a Sunday brunch, and Twill had promised to make a big lunch for Michael, and then Ceri and Lily had crossed over to the Demon Realm. And now, of course, Lily was subject to the same level of control as all the other demons, except that she thought it was kinky.
Curling around to the middle of the three corridors leading back from the hall, they soon entered the vast central stairwell of the castle. Pretty much everything about the Castle of Bones was big; it had originally been designed to accommodate a race which tended to be around fifteen feet tall. Down at the ground level, and particularly within this room, things were just taken to extremes. There were two helical stairways winding upward at the sides of the room, one with high steps, the other a smooth surface which accommodated normal-sized people. The central part of the room, however, was open all the way up to the top of the castle proper where the throne room was located. The only way you could get higher was to climb the stairs to the watchtower. Well, there was no way Ceri was walking up there…
‘Come, pet,’ she said, more for something to say than for any magical reason. Lily’s feet lifted off the floor, then Ceri’s a second later, and then they began to rise. They did not move particularly quickly; in fact, they might have managed to walk faster, but it was straight up instead of taking the long, winding slope, and they did not have to put foot to floor the entire time. It was like taking the lift instead of the staircase.
‘Could you teach me to do this, Mistress?’ Lily asked halfway up.
‘No,’ Ceri replied. ‘Sorcery uses completely different “magical muscles” from the way you work magic. I’d imagine I could find someone who could teach you though. It’s basic levitation. You’d need to start out lifting small things and then go on to shifting people about.’
‘It might be worth it if we have to spend time here on a regular basis.’
Ceri eased them forward toward the gap in the balustrade, which was there specifically for people flying up the stairwell, and lowered them gently onto the black stone which made up more or less the entire castle. The doors to the throne room were open and through them Ceri could see Hiffy fussing over the throne. The blue-skinned girl had a lot more blue skin on display than she usually had. She had indulged herself on the way to the castle from her old home in Shilfaris and had bought herself a couple of outfits which she felt were more fitting to her new role as assistant housekeeper to the Overlord. Ceri had been happy to have the expense on her account since Hiffy had also seen to it that Ruffa, her grandfather, also had decent clothes to wear, and because the outfits Hiffy had picked for herself were very sexy.
‘What are you up to, Hiffy?’ Ceri asked as she led Lily into the vaulted, semi-circular audience chamber.
Hiffy straightened her back and the blue-white translucent fabric of her skirt made swishing sounds as it shifted around her legs and tail. ‘I got you a cushion for this thing, Mistress,’ she said, indicating the huge slab of carved, volcanic rock sitting beside her, ‘and with all that’s been going on I totally forgot to bring it up here, and now you’ll be using the throne I thought…’
Ceri smiled, interrupting the stream of slightly nervous chatter. ‘That’s very thoughtful of you. It’s difficult to look dignified, powerful, and regal when you have a cold, numb arse. Now, why are you acting like a skittish gilda?’ Ceri was pretty sure that a gilda was an animal roughly the size, shape, and personality of a deer. They also had pretty, iridescent, purple skin which gave off a musk known to drive almost any non-gilda insane with lust which made them skittish; they constantly had to look over their shoulder.
‘We have every Lord, greater and lesser, in the Realm here, Mistress!’ Hiffy replied in a tone which suggested that this was an obvious reason for nerves. ‘I’m not sure we’ve got enough food in, or enough wine, or enough Lorril. What if Inak makes a fool of himself and you have to kick us out of the castle, and…’
Stepping forward, Ceri put her finger over the girl’s lips. ‘Enough.’ Hiffy’s eyes widened. ‘I’ve been over this with Ruffa already. He seems to have done an excellent job, you both have. He’s sticking to the kitchens and backrooms most of the time and letting you be the visible head of staff. And I quote, “If I have t’ deal with them ignorant, arrogant tavika-sucking mud worms f’r longer’n thirty minutes, I’ll want to test how big a demon I c’n get on the kitchen spit.”’
Hiffy giggled at Ceri’s impression of her grandfather. ‘He has been acting a little less grumpy recently, but that sounded just like him.’
Ceri nodded, stepping around the blue det to prod at the cushion with her knuckles. ‘So there’s nothing to worry about, is there? I wouldn’t throw you out of the castle anyway. I’d have you chained in my private rooms to use for my pleasure.’ The black, rough silk fabric was well padded and not too smooth. The huge, gothic throne was made of a polished version of the rock the building had been formed from. Indeed, it seemed to have been grown from the stone as the castle had been grown from the mountain, and then someone had carved in the details. The details included a row of skulls up the front of both arms. Nothing too subtle; this was for a demon Overlord to sit on. Ceri sat on it.
‘You’d do that, Mistress?’ Hiffy said, far too eagerly. ‘You’d chain me up as a pleasure slave?’
The Overlord of All Demons shook her head. ‘Impossible, the pair of you. If you’re a very good girl, you can assist me in testing the new dungeon later. Now, the f
irst of the Lords is on his way up, so you had better go check on your grandfather. Then make sure everyone is settled into their rooms, and try to stay off your back before I’ve chained you to the wall.’
‘Yes, Mistress,’ Hiffy replied, giggling, and headed for the door, hips swinging and tail twitching from side to side.
‘Sooner or later I’m going to die of sexual excess,’ Ceri muttered, and then raised her voice a little to add, ‘I think I’d like you lounging on the arm of the throne, Lil. Left side. According to rumour, I already use you as an assassin.’
‘Of course, Mistress,’ Lily purred, moving around to perch on the thick, black arm of the chair. Ceri crossed her legs, arranged her skirts, and assumed what she hoped was a decadent, lounging posture. ‘Mistress looks every bit the demon empress,’ Lily assured her just before Faran appeared outside the door, leading the way for an over-sized Devos Ceri did not immediately recognise.
‘Lady Ayasha,’ Faran said, stopping just inside the doorway, which seemed to irritate the Lord behind him, ‘I present Lord Graggil.’
And now she knew who he was. ‘Ah yes, Graggil. You hold the lands north of Shilfaris.’ Graggil and Molech had been in a slightly uneasy truce since Molech had taken the territory between the Mountains of Khedra and the city of Shilfaris. The region around the city provided about two hundred miles of buffer zone between the two fiefdoms. Ceri liked it that way.
Faran walked forward to take his place at the right side of the throne which allowed Graggil to move forward. He was not exactly the best-looking Devos Ceri had ever seen, though his lordly power could be seen in his abnormal height, around sixteen feet. Unfortunately, he had something of a paunch and almost no muscle tone, and his skin had a greyish tint to it rather than the iridescent purple which marked his species. One of the briefings Faran had provided over the last month had described Graggil as ‘a bloated incompetent ruling an inefficient hierarchy of brown-nosed sycophants.’