Joy? Nesha-tari had never thought of it like that. It was necessity. Assuagement. The only thing that dulled the pain of the Hunger, for a while.
“As much as anything ever has,” she said quietly, feeling a sort of disgust with herself. Balan frowned. He shook his head sadly and clucked his tongue.
“All the beauty you could have for the taking. Spoiled by the taint of your father’s monkey blood.”
Nesha-tari ignored his comment. “What is Danavod doing here?”
“I never said she stayed, nor even that she landed,” Balan pointed out.
“I am not going to waste a question asking about that.”
The devil’s grin returned. “Clever, girl. Very well. The Dragon’s pesky little servants alerted her that something is very wrong in this place, or soon could be. She came to see that it is handled, and to give a message.”
“It is already being handled,” Nesha-tari said.
“First hear the message,” Balan said, then intoned formally. “Madame Nesha-tari, servant of the Azure One. Black Danavod, Great Dragon of the Night Sky, sister of your Master, bids you to leave this place. Remove yourself from Vod’Adia, and go on your way in peace.”
Nesha-tari had the sense she had just wasted two questions, but that was not the reason she clenched her teeth as her blue eyes flared.
“Danavod has no authority to give orders to me!”
“I imagine that was why she said ‘bids’ and not ‘tells.’ More like a request, I should say. ‘Would you be so good as to beat feet,’ and all that.”
“I will leave when I am ready,” Nesha-tari said, and Balan bared his teeth.
“Happy to hear it,” he said, and gave a deeper bow before he turned as if to leave.
“Balan, I have more questions,” Nesha-tari said.
“I do not, for the moment,” the devil said without turning around. “You have given me some things to look into, and I may return with more at a later time. For now, there are some other matters to which I must attend. Take care of yourself, daughter of the Lamia.”
With that, Balan stepped around a column, and was gone.
*
Balan reappeared some miles distant, stepping out from around a corner in a long hallway leading to an open courtyard, deep within the palace at the heart of Vod’Adia. The hall was free of dust and gorgeously carpeted in long burgundy rolls with golden frills, and the walls were hung with rich tapestries, canvas paintings, and small statuary on shelves. The devil lord looked around at none of it, and his face was pensive.
“Poltus,” he said, then stopped walking as nothing had happened. Balan sighed.
“Poltus, Poltus, Poltus.”
A little devil about a foot tall winked into being, ochre-colored skin tight around its bones, naked and sexless. Sharp spikes ran down its spine to the tip of its tail, as long again as was its body. Its posture was bent as though it had been working at a very small desk, and it had a quill in one hand. As it started to drop toward the floor the little devil unfurled leathery wings like a bats, and though they did not beat the air it hovered up to the height of Balan’s shoulder.
“Busy?” Balan asked.
“Forgiveness, my Lord,” the creature said. It had a wizened face with a long nose and two small horns. “There is much to be recorded, and most of your minions are in the field.”
Balan resumed walking, and Poltus bobbed along at his side.
“I need some research done,” Balan said. “From the old monkey books.”
“Humans, my Lord.”
Balan stopped again.
“What?”
“Humans, Lord. Monkeys are their genetic predecessors. The humans are the ones who can talk. And make books.”
Balan glared. “Do you know from whence I hail, Poltus? Originally?”
The little devil thought for a moment.
“I do, Lord Balan.”
“Then don’t you think I know the difference between a monkey and a human? I had two years of college, for crying out loud.”
“Yes, Lord,” Poltus nodded. “At what is called a ‘community’ college, if I am not mistaken.”
Balan raised a hand and pointed a finger in Poltus‘s face, but the little devil did not flinch. They had been going back and forth like this for centuries.
“You see, Poltus, it is that kind of smart-ass comment that makes you so popular with the other Spiny Devils. This is why no one wants to have a beer with you after work.”
“Yes, my Lord Balan.”
“Yes-my-Lord-Balan,” Balan mimicked Poltus’s exact voice, only making it more whiny.
“Go to the human books, you little dingbat, and find me all that is known of something called a Lamia.”
A scrap of parchment appeared in Poltus’s free hand and it scribbled with its quill.
“Is that a proper name, Lord?”
“Species. Native to this world, I am guessing.”
Balan sighed and looked down the hall to the courtyard. His guest was waiting, and though it was probably best that she was not left to her own devices, Balan’s regular duties during the time of the Opening should not be neglected.
“Is there anything of which I should be aware?”
“No my Lord,” Poltus said.
“What about that hard-core bunch of monkeys from south of here? The musketeers and mystics from Kwo?”
“They killed another sixteen demons, mostly Rutterkin and Dretch, though they did drop one Glabrezu. We have however allowed them to recover a bracelet of quite extraordinary value, and they have begun murdering each other for possession of it.”
Balan smiled in spite of himself.
“Nice.”
“Thank you, my Lord.”
“That is all?”
“All that you should be aware of, yes.”
Balan frowned. “There is something of which I should not be aware?”
Poltus looked uncomfortable, and Balan raised a hand.
“Never mind, don’t tell me.” He turned and took several more sparking steps before stopping a third time with a sigh.
“Just tell me this. Does what I should not know involve someone named Uella?”
“It does, my Lord.”
“Don’t tell me,” Balan repeated as he strode swiftly on, cursing the impatience of succubi in general, and one in particular, under his breath. That was what he got for using demons for devils’ work.
Before he reached the end of the hall Balan could hear an angry buzzing from the courtyard beyond. He rolled his red eyes as he stepped out to where his guest was waiting, and keeping herself amused.
The Great Black Wyrm of the Night Sky filled half the wide yard with her serpentine bulk, enormous leathery wings folded back along her body and her long tail lying casually along two walls. The tail was in Balan’s way as he passed through the door and he absently reached up to grab a bony quill as long as a sword blade. He yanked himself over the obstruction, dropping to a smooth landing on the flagstones and shooting up a spark from his hoof.
Far up ahead, the Great Dragon turned her magnificent head on its long neck and looked back down her own length at Balan, raising one stony ridge of scales like an eyebrow. The buzzing noise came from further along, where Balan now saw the Dragon had rooted a Chasme up from somewhere. The demon was a particularly ugly thing, built mostly like an insect with huge, multi-faceted eyes like a housefly’s set above a hooked nose and an
