CHAPTER 21
The group moved quickly through the chambers of Sheol. The place was enormous. Hidimba had never dared to venture this far down before, and he was amazed that the halls and caverns grew larger as he descended. They were passing through the most immense grotto yet. As big as a field, it was circular in shape with a domed ceiling high enough for trees to grow. It had a smooth, level floor with only one protuberance, right near the center, also circular in shape, and rising up about ten foot into the air. It was of goodly size, and obviously was once used for a particular purpose. Strangely, both the floor and the raised stage were untouched by the heavy rock dust that blanketed all the rest of Sheol. A small amount of natural light, a rarity this far down, had somehow been engineered to reach the rocky protrusion; it bounced off the flat top of the dais and gave the whole cavern an eerie glow.
Hidimba figured the oversized cavity must have had some special purpose. Almost all of the other tunnels and caverns beneath the mountain were rough cut and imperfect-created by the giants out of necessity with little thought given to form or style. But this one was clean, smooth, and polished. Much extra work went into its creation.
He envisioned the mighty giants of old gathered here, listening to their leaders tell them of their plans to win the battle against mankind. He was sure their chants of war must have shaken the very foundations of the mountain. Now, however, only silence greeted them as they passed through its vastness.
Kokabiel had assumed the lead, and he kept them moving along at a brisk pace. It was obvious that he did not want to draw attention to them by the way he moved. He probably did not want this to happen at all. He was losing on both fronts.
Azazel, looking relaxed and confident, walked behind Kokabiel, and Hidimba was last, following a few paces behind his master. It was hard for the smaller demon to keep up with the two brothers, however, and the echoes of his cloven hoofs hitting the stone floor sounded in double time more often than not. Behind him, keeping themselves within the edge of shadow, still others followed.
Hidimba knew they were there. Azazel had use for them. He had no intention of keeping this meeting clandestine, and the dark walkers would spread word of his power and purpose throughout Sheol like the waters of a flood. Hidimba agreed it was time that they knew.
They whisper his name . . . wondering if he is real or myth. He is both. Soon they will know. Soon.
Hidimba paused and turned as they exited the great chasm. A flicker of regret raced across his heart. It was not a common emotion among demonkind, but melancholy spread throughout him nonetheless when he thought about how long he had been below this mountain, and how little he actually knew about it. The great cavern was not beautiful. He had caught fleeting glimpses of beautiful, both natural and man-made, from time to time when he was summoned to the world of men. But it was nice. And nice was unique in this place.
It was also very near the rocky outcropping were he fought for survival every single day. He wished he would have discovered it long ago. Perhaps now that he had a powerful master and a new name he would be able to explore all of Sheol without fear. His mood lightened somewhat at the thought of this possibility.
As he peered out into the cavern, his keen demon eyes caught a glimpse of movement near the carved dais. He froze, as still as the rock, and focused. They were out there. Other demons, perhaps a dozen, were trailing his group. He could see them clearly now, and he was sure that some in their party had seen him as well. They looked like Se'irim. That would normally be bad for Hidimba. The goat demons were plentiful here, and although they were close in size to the rakshasa, their muscles were denser and they were much stronger physically than Hidimba. Fortunately for him, his master would protect him, and he was unconcerned with the approaching herd.
Hidimba turned around quickly to rejoin his master and was horribly surprised to find no one there. It took a moment for him to realize what had happened-the tunnel leading out of the great cavern split soon after exiting, and he had no guess as to which direction his masters went. Panic began to slowly tighten its grip on his demon heart.
How long did I stare into that stupid cavern . . . thinking stupid thoughts . . . and now I may be torn to pieces and eaten by goat soldiers.
"Master," he screamed as he approached the fork in the tunnel. "Master," he shouted again and again into each side. No response. He listened. Nothing. He could, however, hear the cloven hooves of the goat demons clickety-clacking against the floor of the great chasm and drawing nearer to him by the moment. He had to make a choice. Fast.
Right.
And he was gone. He raced forward hoping to see his master and Kokabiel at any moment. It didn't take long for him to realize that he had chosen incorrectly. He should have easily caught up to them by now.
No. No. No.
Hidimba stopped running and listened. The goat demons had also chosen incorrectly. They trotted along in his direction, although it sounded like less of them than before.
They've split up . . . taken both paths. No matter, six will kill me as surely as twelve. Must keep moving.
Ahead, there was only more tunnel, but Hidimba knew it was his only option. He would not give up. He would not quit searching for the safety of his master's company until either the goat demons or something else down here killed him. He couldn't believe how stupid he had been back at the cavern. He was a survivor, ever alert. And now that he had caught a break, now that one good thing finally happened to him, he was running for his life and in the most danger he had ever happened upon. He knew what irony was, and he thought about it as he raced away from the oncoming goat demons.
He tired soon enough. Hidimba was not built for endurance. It took great effort for his spindly legs to carry the rest of him any great distance. His strength lay in his arms and shoulders, though neither did him any good at the moment. Inevitably, he slowed. Then he stopped. Right away he heard the damn clickety-clacking. It was closer than before.
Hidimba screamed. Furious with himself and the damn goat demons that wouldn't stop, he had been unable to keep his fury pent up any longer. He immediately regretted doing it. Although it wasn't a very loud scream, his voice was whispery by nature, the Se'irim had heard. They would know he was close. They would know he was scared. He had shown weakness. The pursuit would intensify.
Desperate, Hidimba took up the race once again. He had not run very far at all when his chances for survival increased twofold. The tunnel forked for a second time. He chose the left fork-it seemed to be the one that would bring him back towards his master-while in a full out sprint. Once more he ran as far as he could. He then tired, stopped, and listened. Silence. Besides his own labored breathing, he heard nothing. All the goat demons had evidently taken the other tunnel or they had ended their chase altogether. Why hadn't they split up again. Perhaps there group had grown too small. Strangely, he found the lack of pursuit unsettling. It was hard for him to accept that he had just gotten away. Things usually didn't turn out for the best in Sheol.
He thought about backtracking, running all the way to where the great cavern was and going after his master, but he decided against it. The goat demons may have been back there waiting for him to do just such a thing. No, his path was set. It was onward and downward-wherever that may bring him. Reluctantly, he put his tired legs into motion and began his journey anew.
Hidimba walked . . . and walked . . . and walked some more. He had covered quite a lot of tunnel without incident, but he was growing weary. He needed to rest. His legs began to shake considerably as he stopped walking and prepared to lie down on the floor of the tunnel.
The rock felt good on his back. He couldn't recall ever being as spent physically as he was right now. This wasn't a good idea-lying down in an unfamiliar tunnel, all alone, in a place inhabited by other demons-but he couldn't help it. At this point in his journey, death was a welcome alternative to his aching legs. He tried to remain still so as not to overly disturb the dust that was all about him, and he concentrated on his
master.
Master said he needed me. He needed to show me to those that rule this place . . . or those that used to rule this place. Master is strong. Lord Kokabiel is strong. They'll find me. They'll come for me. They'll walk right through this damn rock and take me with them. I know they will. They must be looking for me by now. Master said he needed me.
Hidimba felt the pressure on his legs and his first thought was one of wonder. Had his master really came for him? As he was pulled into the air feet first and his head slammed into the floor of the tunnel for the first time, he figured out the answer was no. It was not his master that had come for him. Nor was it the goat demons. It was something far worse. He could see only the leg of his captor as he flailed about upside down, but he knew what had him. There could be no doubt, yet it was impossible. The back of his head slammed violently into the stone floor once again, and a scream that had taken Hidimba much effort to muster relaxed and passed through his thin lips as only a shallow breath. Mercifully for him, unconsciousness followed.
The Peacock Angel: Rise of the Decarchs Page 32