“I’m almost finished. I’ve decided to make the talisman a ring. Mainly, of course, for the benefit of the strength inherent in the Neverending Loop of Confinement, which the ring so easily represents.”
“Good choice,” approved Lenamare. “I take it you’ve inscribed the standard bindings for combat manipulation of a fourth order demon?”
“Of course, I used Pertwinge’s Annulment of the Devious Destructive Demon, as well as Ekelios’ Ectonic Shielding. Not to mention attuning it to the Kristel’s Fourth Order Binding that I did yesterday.”
“Good, you’ve inscribed the ring?”
“Yes, as you can see for yourself,” she handed him the ring. “I admit, I did a rush job on the talisman, but it is perfect. It will allow any of us to command the demon with a minimum of effort during the battle.”
He read the inside of the ring where the demon’s name was inscribed, “Tomasedwardperkinje, fine. Odd name for a demon, but then they all are.”
“Who did you want to help us in sealing the demon? Trisfelt?”
“No, I felt he was a bit weak, when we first bound the demon, let’s use Master Hortwell. Elrose is busy planning the positioning of the other demons, and ensuring that they’re ready.
“Hortwell is in the dungeon with some of the students, I believe they will need a few hours to manage the inspection of the wards. I’ll send a messenger to Hortwell asking him to meet us in the same conjuring room we used last time, right after the evening meal?”
“Fine, I’ll be done.”
“Good enough,” and Lenamare left the room.
Chapter 9
Tom slowly came to. What a nightmare he thought, I’ll never smoke grass again. He kept his eyes tightly closed, he could feel the rocky ground around him in Reggie’s back yard, where he must have fallen while stoned. “Helloooo,” a voice shouted at him, “I can see you’re awake now, your wings moved.”
Oh shit, it’s not a dream, or it’s still going. Tom recognized Tizzy’s voice behind and above him. Slowly he opened his eyes. In front of him he could see his red, snout-like, nose and beyond that, the rocky Martian like surface of the demon plain, or was that plane? Tom thought weakly. He moaned as he tried to sit up, his muscles protested. They were still sore, but they didn’t ache like they had. “Aah,” he said as he accidentally sat on his tail, bending it the wrong way. He stood up, since as he now recalled, sitting was rather difficult.
“Slept like a bat you did,” Tizzy said. “’Cept, of course, you wasn’t hanging from your feet.” Tizzy’s voice was still distinct but a bit less shrill now, more grizzled. Did the demon have some sort of multiple-personality disorder? One could easily be excused for going crazy in this place.
Tom looked around; the desert seemed to stretch forever. Behind him was the pillar from which he fell, towering ungodly high and incredibly thin. Surely those pillars violate some law of physics? Tom thought to himself. In the distance to his right and before him was a range of mountains, apparently where he was supposed to be going. He searched for Boggy, but couldn’t see the little demon anywhere.
Seeing him looking around, Tizzy said, “Boggy got called away, he’ll be back as soon as possible.”
“Called away?” Tom inquired.
“Yeah, you know, summoned, conjured, etcetera, went to see his favorite accursed master.” He waved his pipe; smoke was coming out of the bowl, apparently, he’d been smoking while Tom was sleeping.
“Right, I should have guessed.” Tom reluctantly began to remember all the things Boggy had told him. Eternal slavery, pain-dominated servitude, lifelong misery. What a thought to wake up to and to look forward to, thought Tom.
“Well, ready to fly again?”
“No. I think I’ll walk.”
“Take too long, and besides you’ll never be able to cross the Styx.”
“The Styx? As in river to the underworld, with the boat keeper?”
“You’ve heard of it? Yep. Favorite transportation of mortals, or at least dead mortals, through the Abyss. Travels the entire plane. And a major bitch to cross if you don’t fly.”
“I don’t know. Last time was not fun.” Tom looked down at the two holes in the ground nearby, where his legs had implanted themselves. “Besides, I really should eat something first.”
“Are you hungry?”
“No...” Tom said, realizing it was true. He hadn’t eaten anything in ages, and he’d been through a lot, but he was not hungry in the slightest.
“Then why eat?”
“I don’t know. Habit I guess.”
“Wasteful habit. Demons don’t need to eat. We get enough energy from the heat in the air around us. Course, we can if we want to. Munching a little wizard or two for breakfast is always a fun thing to do.” He took a deep pull on his pipe and grinned at Tom.
“No thanks. I suppose I should try and fly again,” Tom said doubtfully.
“Just try short, low level flights at first. It’s a lot easier.”
“I guess,” Tom said, not really wanting to, but knowing that he’d better learn, if he was going to be in this psychotic state for long. Or was it neurotic? He was definitely aware he wasn’t perceiving things quite right anymore, did that make it neurotic? or did the fact that he was having hallucinations automatically mean he was psychotic. His stepfather had been a clinical psychologist, andTom had often visited his office and talked to him about different types of crazy people. It was quite different being one of the crazies now.
However, Tom just thought, I fell asleep and I still seem to be here. Everything seems to make sense and is rationally connected, assuming one can accept the premise of a demon plane and a bunch of wizards kidnapping stoned kids from parties. Now, am I actually out of my mind or really here? Tom had read enough fantasy novels to know that the major characters, who were transported to fantasy realms, often spent a great deal of time disbelieving in the world around them, and therefore managed to get into a lot of trouble.
So, thought Tom, would it be better to disbelieve in this place and say this is all a dream and possibly get into a lot of trouble, if it’s real; or do I accept that everything is real, and risk falling even deeper into my personal insanity? Reeling from the weight of thoughts he had never expected to have to face in real life, Tom giddily began to wonder if there was actually any way that he could determine if his whole past life had been a dream and that he was now awake.
No, he thought, pulling himself together suddenly, Boggy assured me that I had lived somewhere else as a normal person, thus this is either a new place, or a dream, and my past definitely real regardless of the situation.
“Hey, are you going to fly or not?” Tizzy interrupted his thoughts suddenly. He quickly realized he had just been standing there going around in mental circles while Tizzy waited on him to start trying to fly.
“Well how do I start?” Tom asked. Since, Tom rationalized, anything based on a false assumption was true, then if he was crazy and this world a dream, then anything he did was correct, so it couldn’t hurt to believe; whereas, if this world was true, it could be very dangerous to disbelieve. He decided, therefore to accept his situation as real, until more convincing proof became evident later.