Before he could even begin to try a spell to reverse the hole, the circle passed through his pentagram and he was falling! He was in free fall in a very, very hot place. He looked up to see a twenty-foot-diameter hole in the red sky, with Exador peering over the edge in glee.
“Crispin! I wish to be transported to a safe location in the foyer!” Randolf screamed vocally and over their master-djinn link.
Randolf slammed into the floor at the back of the foyer as his djinn did a line-of-sight teleport through the hole between worlds. Dung beetles, that hurt! Randolf thought to himself as shooting pain raced up his legs from the impact. He heard Exador scream once more in rage and fury. Randolf’s spell had been broken when his components had fallen into the Abyss, but Davron’s was still affecting the archdemon. However, Randolf suspected it was not pain but the fury of being thwarted that had spawned Exador’s outburst.
“Enough of this!” boomed an incredibly loud voice from above, startling everyone. Randolf looked up to see Alexandros Mien floating through the very open skeletal remains of the ceiling. The still-violent winds were only moderately ruffling his robes, although his thin hair was standing on end and fluttering rapidly.
“Exador, you are no longer welcome in Freehold!” The ancient mage raised his staff as if pointing to something in the sky and swept it quickly down at Exador. As he did, there was an ear-splitting whistling or roaring noise, completely unlike that of the chimneys.
Almost without warning, a large black-and-red object about fifteen feet in diameter came racing out of the sky and smashed into Exador’s head with brutal impact, sending both the object and Exador spinning through the hole into the Abyss. Alexandros waved his staff again in the same sweeping motion and another black, fiery object came hurtling out of the sky and through the hole into the Abyss at an even faster rate, smashing into the falling archdemon.
Randolf, Gandros, Tureledor and Davron all moved closer to the hole to observe. Jehenna could see into the hole from her current position. A third fiery rock followed. Randolf drew his breath, realizing that the fiery rocks were meteors. Alexandros was actually pulling celestial bodies out of deep space and smashing them into Exador!
“I think this was worth the wait!” Randolf told Jehenna over the communication link.
Exador and the meteors struck the ground in the Abyss, producing a very large mushroom cloud, into which a fourth and then a fifth meteor crashed. A sixth, very large one followed, and then they heard Jehenna scream into the air and over their link, “Stop the showers, the wards are coming up now!”
Randolf looked up to see Alexandros staring upward, working hard to redirect the course of the next few meteors off to a more harmless location. Suddenly the light level in the foyer changed dramatically as the portal closed when the wards kicked in. At the same time, the sky above the open roof once more turned the familiar red of the demon wards.
Randolf crossed his fingers that all the meteors had been redirected; it was not clear if Alexandros would be able to control them through the magic-blocking wards. Before he could finish crossing his fingers, the wind in the room shifted direction. Suddenly the air, smoke and ash in the room were streaming upwards at a very high velocity.
“The wards were my clue to exit!” Crispin shouted in his head. “Based on last time, I should be back in half a day or so!”
Within seconds, the air was completely still, the ash and soot slowly sinking to the ground. The upwards rush of air had snuffed out the flames in the upper foyer. Alexandros Mien landed in the middle of the foyer and looked around at the mess. Gandros had finally managed to bring the collapsing upper walls to a gentle rest as a huge pile of rubble.
“First the demon escape, now this. I think they are going to cancel our building insurance,” Alexandros Mien said drily.
Chapter 109
Calyph Ser Sayat Tel Bastios unlocked the wards using his signature code and entered the shielded space of the Calyphadrome. He was the first to arrive. The space was soothing and quite relaxing; being shielded, it was cut off from the cacophony of Djinnistan. Only here and at his home space was there mental peace these days.
How he had envied the Grand Calyphos when he had been a scattered youth. He had foolishly believed that the Grand Calyphos were above the daily rituals, tasks and servitude of the lesser djinn. A common misconception of those not in power about those in power. Yet no matter how many tutors would try to explain to the young that power was but a burden, best shared, a grave responsibility that made one the servant, not the master, the students never believed.
They dreamed and dreamed, and for only a poor few — those who worked and strove relentlessly for centuries to perfect their studies and rise to the height of their profession — only those poor few realized, too late, that their tutors had been correct. Power was a burden, a responsibility that somehow, in a weightless world, weighed heavily upon the spirit of those who held it.
The room flashed with the signatory colors of Calyph Her Tanaya Tel Barthos, quickly followed by the colors of Calyph Te Narthos al Biyam. As the two calyphs entered the chamber, Ser Sayat flashed them pleasant, warm colors of greeting, which they generously returned.
“We are awaiting Calyph Le Senara al Vistra and Calyph Cryan Ser Viat Tel Malthos?” Her Tanaya expressed to Ser Sayat.
Ser Sayat flashed a scent of amused agreement. It was no surprise that the other two were late, albeit for very different reasons.
“It shall be amusing to receive Le Senara’s explanatory dialogue this time,” Te Narthos expressed to them.
“Hir explanatory dialogues are always a source of great amusement!” Ser Sayat agreed.
Le Senara was a djinn of the greatest wit. Hir delays were always due to poor time management and organizational skills, yet the witty diatribe of reasons were always fascinating and engaging.
The space flashed with the signatory colors of Calyph Cryan Ser Viat Tel Malthos, who quickly expressed colors and scents of embarrassed apologies. Ser Sayat had to wonder which of hir partners had delayed hir.
Her Tanaya flashed Cryan Ser Viat a scent and color of amused approval, which only served to make Cryan Ser Viat flash more signs of embarrassment. Ser Sayat laughed internally — to be young! Cryan Ser Viat was the youngest of the Grand Calyphos at only 302 multiversal standard years.
The four of them waited quietly for a few more moments before the area flashed with the colors of Le Senara entering, flustered and disheveled as usual. The awaiting members all flashed greetings of amused warmth to Le Senara.
“My apologies, profuse, profuse apologies...” Le Senara expressed.
“And what amazing thing so distracted you this time?” Te Narthos inquired politely.
“Something truly amazing! Unprecedented even. Well, not unprecedented, as it used to be routine, but has not been for centuries upon centuries!” Le Senara gushed emotionally.
Ser Sayat was interested; this was a very different response than Le Senara’s normal witty explanation. Ser Sayat and Her Tanaya flashed for Le Senara to continue; the rest flashed agreement.