“Where have you been?” Randolf asked Crispin as the djinni walked into the breakfast atrium.
“Early morning visit to Djinnistan. Remember, with these wards up, I have to physically leave the city and pop to Djinnistan to get updates. I can’t commune with the wards up.”
“Could you not just step outside the wards and commune?” Randolf asked, buttering his toasted bread. He gestured for Crispin to sit down and have a late breakfast with him.
“If I am going to physically leave the city, I might as well zap to Djinnistan. Besides, standing in the middle of the road in a trance attracts too much unwanted attention,” Crispin said, sitting down and pouring himself some orange juice.
“And pickpockets, I’d imagine.”
“Not if they know what’s good for them.” Crispin grinned.
“So, any news from the Grand Calyphos?” Randolf asked before taking a bite of his toast.
“Well, if you consider locating Lenamare’s considerably-greater-than-greater demon news, then yes.”
Randolf set down his toast. “Ah, so he has appeared somewhere? As I recall, the djinn have no access to the Abyss, so he must have materialized somewhere.”
“That has changed,” Crispin said, grabbing a strawberry. “We have reopened diplomatic relations with Mount Doom.”
Randolf shook his head, puzzled. “Mount Doom? Sounds like a rather overly melodramatic place. I take it that this Mount Doom is located in the Abyss?”
“It is indeed.” Crispin nodded. “It is a giant volcano full of D’Orcs.”
“A volcano filled with dorks?” Randolf frowned.
“I have to suspect that sort of confusion must get very old for them,” Crispin observed.
“I am completely not following,” Randolf said.
“Duh Orcs, or D Orcs. As in Demon Orcs.”
“Demon Orcs? That sounds worrisome,” Randolf said.
“I suppose it does, but not for the djinn. Mount Doom and its previous lord were longtime allies of ours.”
“Really? Orc demons allied with djinn?” Randolf sounded extremely skeptical.
“Believe it or not, historically they were much more pleasant and infinitely more reliable than regular demons.”
Randolf sipped on his tea and nodded. “Well, I suppose when you put it like that, it makes sense.”
“So the djinn once more have access to goings-on within the Abyss. I assume this is tied to Lenamare’s demon?”
“It is; he is the new Master of Mount Doom. He relit the volcano,” Crispin said, reaching for an apple.
Randolf raised an eyebrow. “I see. So I assume this confirms that he is much more than a greater demon?”
Crispin nodded. “Indeed. Millennia ago, Mount Doom was the counterbalance to the Courts of Chaos, an alternative demon empire within the Abyss. Rival to Lilith and Sammael.”
Randolf set down his silverware and stared at Crispin. “Are you saying Lenamare summoned a demon prince?”
Crispin shrugged. “Summoned? Probably not. I suspect the better phrase would be ‘was the unwitting pawn of.’ ”
Randolf pursed his lips and exhaled in a soft whistle. “I don’t think I will be mentioning this to Lenamare or the Council.”
Crispin grinned, grabbed Randolf’s half-eaten piece of toast and popped it in his mouth.
“He what?” Sentir Fallon asked Lilith incredulously.
“He froze his little corner of the Abyss over and quietly obliterated twenty-three Knights of Chaos,” Lilith repeated.
“I don’t see how that is possible,” Aodh said.
“I have interviewed multiple eyewitnesses on the pain of far worse than death,” Lilith stated. “I am confident that he did this, and did it with no casualties on his side. Not a single D’Orc was killed.”
“Well, he has clearly mastered and fully marshaled the powers of Doom,” Sentir Fallon said sourly.
“We were too late to stop him,” Aodh agreed.
“What about your contact with the Knights of Chaos — a Baron of Chaos I believe you said?” Sentir asked.
“I did,” Lilith replied. “I have not heard anything back from them, but I am sure they are not going to be amused, and the fact that their vulnerability to extreme cold is now well known to both Mount Doom and the Courts, or at least to me, means that they are going to be even more displeased.”
“Yes. And so they will start investigating,” Aodh said.
“And discover that you used their knights to preserve the status quo rather than to upend it,” Sentir said, and grimaced. “This may not have been a good idea.”
“You think?” Lilith spat. “I did not want to do this. You”—she stared at Aodh—“insisted that we attack immediately, and agreed that this was the only option.”
“I did,” Aodh admitted.
“Therefore, if this comes back to bite me in the ass, it will bite the two of you as well. Are we clear?” Lilith glared at her colleagues.
Damien was watching Tal Gor remove the stick with his barely roasted breakfast rabbit when Ragala-nargoloth wandered back into their camp. Once the rabbit was out of the fire, Estrebrius stepped back into the fire to continue warming himself. Damien shook his head at the demon’s bizarre behavior.
Farsooth, gnawing on his own half-roasted rabbit, stopped eating long enough to ask, “Where did you head off to?”
“I saw some interesting markings in Murgatroy yesterday and went back to see if I could connect with my tribe’s people here in Astlan,” she replied.
That comment made Damien blink. “Your tribe extends across dimensions?”
“Indeed. Many tribes and clans have bands on other planes, particularly within the localverse. During the Days of Glory, we routinely moved between the dimensions as a matter of course. Today, much less so, but our family members are still here and there, and we do keep in touch, share information and occasionally trade.”
“I had no idea,” Damien said, impressed. To be honest, he, like most human wizards, rather assumed that being tribal and nomadic, orcs were quite primitive. Apparently not.
“Shamans communicate regularly across the dimensions; physical travel requires much more energy and coordination, but when necessary, we do it,” Beya confirmed.
“Did you make contact?” Farsooth asked.
“I did. They will be able to put me in touch with Rargh-Dargoloth, a shaman that I have had brief contact with in the past. He normally communicates with my cousin. He should have portal beads to open a gateway to here.”
“Lord Tommus will return once he wakes, and then you won’t need the beads,” Vaselle said.
“True, but I think it would be a good idea to make this connection and establish independent links. As we proceed with the Restoration of Glory, dimensional trade and travel will become far more important,” Ragala-nargoloth said.
Vaselle nodded. “Yes, that makes sense. We are going to need to create more gateways so that we do not become a burden to Lord Tommus.”
Damien looked at the warlock but said nothing. To date, Tom had seemed quite honest and unassuming, and seemed to be simply minding his own business, but this Restoration of Glory the orcs kept talking about made him a bit nervous. Not as nervous as the Grove, apparently, but still queasy. He was no longer quite so sure what he was signed up for. He had no interest in multi-dimensional conquest. Once he could get Tom, or preferably, Edwyrd, alone, they would need to talk. He would also speak with Antefalken and get his perspective.
“Do you know when Lord Tommus will be back?” Beya asked Vaselle.
Vaselle closed his eyes for a moment. “I think he’s asleep. He was up very late working to integrate the new recruits.”