Boggy sighed. “I suppose. I’m going to want to take a nap though.”
“Me too,” Estrebrius said, rotating to an upright position. Tom was not sure how it was possible for them to move in molten lava so easily. The iron had been extremely thick and hard to move in; lava had to be worse.
Tizzy sat up, grunting. “Spoilsports!”
Chapter 95
“They went where?” Lilith asked Rosencrantz for the second time.
“Hellsprings Eternal,” the cringing demon messenger replied.
“Why in the Abyss would they go there?” Lilith asked Asmodeus, who was sitting in a large, winged armchair beside her sipping on a glass of blood wine.
“To celebrate, I would assume,” Asmodeus replied.
“They have half the Abyss as well as Tierhallon looking for them. This is hardly lying low,” Lilith pointed out. “Did no one notice who they were?”
“Not so much as I could tell, mistress.” Rosencrantz shrugged. “Most of these people are vacationers and may not have heard the news yet.”
“And no one noticed a Knight of Tiernon randomly wandering the Abyss?” Asmodeus asked.
“Well, it wasn’t like he was swinging his sword and looking to do battle or anything. A few people raised some questions, but once the greater demon told them the knight was with him, they sort of let it go,” the messenger said.
Lilith shook her head. “I really don’t see the point of this move. I would have assumed he’d have rendezvoused with his allies and minions to advance their scheme.”
“Who was with him again, Rosencrantz?” Asmodeus asked.
“Uhm, the bard Antefalken, the miniature fourth-order that looks like the big one, Tizzy and Bogsworth, plus an incubus and some fiend we had no identification for.”
“An incubus?” Lilith asked.
“Yes my queen, he was quite busy with the lady patrons of the springs. As one might imagine.”
“Why would he have an incubus working for him?” Lilith asked Asmodeus, who shrugged, having no idea. “Is he creating an army of these mini versions of himself?” Lilith shook her head.
“Under any normal circumstances, the fact that he’s got Tisdale with him would make me discount any true threat; however, circumstances have proven to be quite far from normal,” Asmodeus said.
“Exactly. Who takes a hostage to a spa?” Lilith took a large gulp of blood wine to punctuate her exasperation.
“So you say they relaxed at the spa for a good part of the day, so to speak, and then simply went back to that hole in the ground they are staying in?” Asmodeus asked.
“Exactly. About six or seven hours by Court Time, Your Lordship.” Rosencrantz nodded as he replied.
Asmodeus sighed. “None of this makes much sense to me. Do we really understand what precipitated all this? Yes, I know the city was under siege, overrun by a demon army, but do we know whose? I forget.”
“Well, it’s not completely clear; however, I do believe Ramses is involved and most likely Exador,” Lilith said.
“Exador?” Asmodeus asked.
Lilith shrugged. “An archdemon of shifting alliances. Rather aloof actually. Apparently he’s been masquerading as a human in Astlan for the last few thousand years.”
“Ugh,” Asmodeus said with distaste. “Why? The amenities there are sadly lacking.”
“Maybe he likes the cold?” Lilith shrugged, not particularly caring.
“Are either of them aligned with a prince?”
“Not currently that I am aware of. Ramses has been on good terms with Belphegor and occasionally Naamaha. I have seen him conversing at parties with Moloch and Azaziel, but nothing particularly suspicious.”
“Hmm, so perhaps nominally in Sammael’s camp?” Asmodeus asked.
Lilith made a face indicating uncertainty. “He’s not in mine, and as you know, my default assumption is that if you aren’t in my camp, you’re in his.” She set her glass down to pour some more blood wine. “However, that doesn’t prove anything.”
“Has Sammael mentioned anything to you about this demon?” Asmodeus asked tentatively.
“No, but then he wouldn’t.” She gave her head a slight shake. “He knows that any such mention of something this interesting would likely rouse my suspicions that he was somehow involved. So either way, he’ll remain silent.”
Lilith suddenly noticed that Rosencrantz was still in the room. She glared at him. “Return to your partner and remember nothing from this room,” Lilithshe commanded her servant.
“My dear lady, this was a most magnificent feast!” Trisfelt said as he leaned back in his chair, trying to surreptitiously adjust his robe’s belt.
“Thank you so much, but I fear I can claim no credit, save for hiring Chef Jerod and his team.” Hilda beamed to the hearthean as he entered the room to ensure his crew were clearing the table properly.
“Chef Jerod, you are a true genius!” Trisfelt complimented the chef. “Never have I had such a delicious preparation of jahiva fish. The citrus marmalade was an incredible touch that perfectly complemented the fish’s spiciness. And the soup, as I said after eating it, was heavenly.”
“Did you not enjoy the appetizers?” Chef Jerod asked worriedly.
“My dear man, of course I did. They were marvelous! I simply had to pause to gather air to continue. Before you ask, the salad was the best I’ve had outside of the Grove and it could give anything there a run for its money,” Trisfelt assured him.
“Excellent!” Chef Jerod said, beaming. “But I fear we only have three more courses to go!” He shook his head worriedly. “Perhaps I should get to work on another course? We are about to serve the entrée; I should have time.”
Trisfelt’s eyes popped open wider, “My dear sir, are you trying to explode me?”
Hilda grinned. She had to give silent thanks to Tiernon for her sainthood so that she could actually enjoy such meals without the fear of gaining weight, or even getting too full. Chef Jerod was the best chef in the city, and certainly the most expensive; however, her managers had greatly increased her budget, thanks to her excellent results.
“Ugh, I fear I shall never eat again,” Trisfelt moaned after finishing the final course of roasted and spiced nuts. They had literally gone from soup to nuts this evening. Hilda smiled; she too had enjoyed the meal, perhaps almost as much as Trisfelt appeared to have enjoyed it.
“Shall we adjourn to more comfortable seating?” She gestured towards the sofa and stuffed chairs in the main part of the parlor.
“I’m not sure I can move,” Danyel moaned. He looked quite sick, Hilda thought. The lad, being young and inexperienced, as well as mortal, did not have the gastronomical fortitude of a professional like Trisfelt or a saint like herself. He had left food on his plate at every serving, starting with the entrée. It was as if he had gotten full on the amuse, appetizer, soup, and fish alone. He had left a third of the venison and vegetables on his plate, ate half his slice of cake and only picked at the nuts. He had, however, finished the sorbet that had come after the venison and before the cake.
The lad had also stopped taking new wine with each course at about the same time. He had not even had a sip of the dessert wine accompanying the cake. The poor lad could not have known what he was missing. And the cognac with the nuts? He had not even touched it. Youth was clearly wasted on the young, Hilda reflected. However, she could not help but smile, knowing that Danyel had most likely never anticipated being able to enjoy such a meal in his life. Rod members typically did not get to eat such meals unless they were to advance to knighthood, and not many ever managed that.