“Oh, and who’s boss vaporized a few thousand soldiers in a split second outside his former school?” Edwyrd asked, “You’re telling me that a mass murderer like Lenamare is one of the ‘good guys’ and the demon that saved your life, twice, was a ‘bad guy’?”
Jenn looked at Edwyrd in shock, her jaw moving, apparently unable to make a response. “I’m betting that your mentor,” Edwyrd continued, “killed more people in one second than most demons kill in an eternity.” Jenn sputtered, harrumphed and turned her back on the discussion.
During the entire argument both Gastropé and Maelen had looked on in shock and surprise. Both totally bemused by the sudden vehemence on both sides. Rupert had all he could do to keep from cheering Edwyrd on, even as he wondered at Jenn’s irrationality.
All his life he’d wanted to know the answers to those very same questions. He’d raged day in and day out against those who’d tried to impose such definitions on him. Here Tom, his father, was arguing the very same argument he’d so often dreamed of arguing with a wizard. Like father, like son, Rupert beamed.
Field Protectator Wylan surreptitiously looked on as the series of suspects succinctly and systematically removed themselves from the local vicinity of his jurisdiction. He shook his head in bemusement. This was most serious. As the last of the felonious peripatetics disappeared through the opening in the fire, said fire diminished in size until it was reduced to nothingness. Wylan stepped forth to survey the scene of the suspects’ justice evasion operation. He sniffed the air around the fire, and examined in minute detail the fire pit itself. “On the encouraging side, they will not have to be charged with reckless forestall endangerment through the unauthorized use of pyromantic techniques.” His assistant nodded in agreement. “On the negative side, we will have to add evasion of justice resulting in fugitive status to their already long list of criminal convictions.” He looked to his fellow law officer to ensure that the man was writing this down.
Wylan had met up with Assistant Vice-Constable Pyromancer Fiernon a few hours ago. The two had made judicious haste to the site of the suspects’ campsite. They had observed said suspects for over an hour before the suspects had suddenly taken action and marched through the fire, failing to emerge on the other side. “To what location do you believe these vile henchmen of hell have abstained?” asked Fiernon.
Wylan frowned. “Your choice of the word hell may not be completely without meaningful merit. While I am not currently as well versed as some of my fellows in such matters as pertinent to this investigation, it is my belief, judging from the smell of sulfur and brimstone in the air, added to their already admittedly illicit and ill-advised demonic alliances, that they have absconded to the Abyss.”
“The Abyss?” Fiernon was startled. “What is the state of our current extradition treaty with the Abyss?”
Wylan shook his head. “Unfortunately, not particularly good. What organized government said region has is notably lacking in cohesion and is further noticeably reticent to make any such treaty so as to uphold the due process of law. Experience has further taught us that their pursuance of the matters of justice is more than even criminally sporadic. In short, even given the existence of said treaty, it is highly unlikely to be upheld on the part of the Abyssal rulers.”
Fiernon nodded. “This is therefore indicative that extradition via extra planar extraction is advisable?” he asked.
“Advisable yes.” Wylan stated. “Feasible no. Said government, such as it is, is notably objective to incursion by outside elements. Such actions on our part are often met with severe resistance on their part. Further given no truly cohesive organized government institution that we can deal with, and no embassy on our part, locating such individuals is also extremely difficult.”
“Nefarious nihilists! For the moment, they seem out of our pursuance. How I would love nothing more than for the jaws of justice to mercilessly masticate the miserably malicious malefactoring miscreantic malcontents!” Fiernon pounded his fist into the palm of his left hand.
“While the exhaustive exhibition of elegant eloquence in your exhortative elocution is extremely, nay exquisitely exacting in the extreme, and excessively encouraging to me, thus ensuring of my express agreement, I must say, do not give up hope!” Wylan paced around the campsite, looking for details. “For, as is well documented, such maloriferous misanthropes as these, frankly mystifying malefactors of malevolent mendacity and mongers of maladictive misbehavior, always return to the scene of their putrescent, puerile and pitiable perpetrations. To wit, in this case, they will return to Astlan. Of this you may rest assured.”
Pointing to the heavens above, Wylan concluded. “Therefore, have no futile feeling of fearful fretting, as Justice shall prevail and the rapscallious vagabonds of cantankerous courtly contempt shall pay most dearly for the scandalous, nay, scoundrel-like, misdeeds and misappropriations of constabulary life.” Fiernon bowed his head, grateful for the alliterative, yet nearly allegorical, postulations of reassurance provided by one who was so obviously a truly masterful legal discourser of the first rank.
“You were, as I believe was so efficaciously effected tonight to be demonstrated, correct in your initial estimations as to these villaicious varlets threat to Oorstemoth. Not only do I concur with your judgment, I feel that I must request that a full lack of judicial restraint be utilized in the capture and subsequent prosecution and execution of these savagely seedy suspects of sin.” Wylan complimented and assured Fiernon. “I shall even now begin the undertaking of such steps as to ensure the eventual demise and destruction of said parties.”
Edwyrd was sitting on Tom’s throne, rather overlarge for Edwyrd’s body, reviewing his argument with Jenn. No one had said much afterwards, they simply moved off to corners and sat and waited. It didn’t seem to take quite an hour before Tom felt the summons from Tizzy.
This time it was similar to Jehenna’s last summons. Much stronger than Rupert’s, but without the demand that Lenamare had. As he felt the pull, Tom let his mind trace the mental path that the summons created. In a way, the gobbledygook words he’d used to describe what he was going to do, before they’d left were correct. It was a link, or mental thread, between Tizzy and himself. Only in this case the link was created by Tizzy doing the summoning.
Tom could ‘feel’ with his mind something like a string or path going to Tizzy and could thus get a view of where Tizzy was. Wherever that was, was dark. It seemed to be a large grassy field of some sort. He reached out and felt himself where Tizzy was. Simultaneously he felt himself in the cave. Using himself as the bridge along the link, he mentally dug a hole in the space between locations.
Each time he’d done this gateway, he’d done the visualization slightly differently, but each time it had worked. This time was no exception; he felt a hole in space opening around him. Apparently, the visualization wasn’t as important as the intent and the knowledge of both ends. Widening the hole, he brought more of his consciousness to the cave. “OK, everyone! We have the gate. Time to go!”
Jenn sighed with relief, Gastropé giving her a reassuring smile, saying he’d known they’d be all right. Maelen simply stood up and dusted himself off, picking up the donkey’s reins. Maelen looked at the dark hole in space near the throne, shaking his head he lead the donkey towards it and then through it. Still controlled, the donkey caused no problems.
Next came Gastropé who stepped through as soon as the donkey’s tail had completely crossed the threshold of the gateway. Jenn straightened her clothes and moved towards the gateway, looking around the room. “Rupert? Where’s Rupert?”