'I know. I said that the spell would end, and we would be sucked back to where we came from. And who knows, it may even be true. But I have no idea what will actually happen. All I know is that for as long as we are here, I intend to be in charge.'
Basset was stunned. 'There will be no great battle? But we've been training for so long.'
'Distraction,' said Abbot, waving his fingers like a magician. 'Smoke and spells. It gave the troops something to concentrate on.'
'To what on?' asked Basset, puzzled.
'Concentrate, you moron. Think about. As long as there's a war to be planned, demons are happy. I provided the war, and I showed them how to win. So, naturally, I am a saviour.'
'You gave us the crossbow.'
Abbot had to stop and laugh. This Basset really was a prize fool. He could almost pass for a gnome.
'The crossbow,' he panted at last, when his mirth had petered away.
'The crossbow! The Mud Men have weapons that shoot death. They have iron birds that fly, dropping exploding eggs. And there are millions of them. Millions! All they would have to do is drop one egg on our little island and we would disappear. And this time, there would be no coming back.'
Basset did not know whether to attack or flee. All these revelations were hurting his brain, and all the other Council members could do was sit there drooling. It was almost as if they were under a spell. .
'Come on,' said Abbot mockingly. 'You're getting there. Wring out that sponge of a brain.'
'You have bewitched the Council.'
'Full marks!' crowed Abbot. 'Give that demon a raw rabbit!'
'B-but that can't be,' stammered Basset. 'Demons are not magical creatures, except the warlocks. And warlocks do not warp.'
Abbot spread his arms wide. 'And I am so obviously a magnificently warped creature. Does your brain hurt? Is this all too much for you, Basset?'
Basset pulled a long sword from its scabbard.
'My name is Gristle!' he roared, lunging at the pride leader.
Abbot batted the blade aside with his forearm, then pounced on his opponent. Abbot may have been a liar and a manipulator, but he was also a fearsome warrior. Basset may as well have been a dove attacking an eagle.
Abbot drove the smaller demon to the stone floor, then squatted on his chest, ignoring the blows Basset drove into his armoured plates.
'Is that the best you can do, little one? I have had better tumbles with my dog.'
He grabbed Basset's head between his hands and squeezed until the younger demon's eyes bulged.
'Now I could kill you,' said Abbot, and the thought gave him obvious pleasure. 'But you are a popular buck among the imps, and they would pester me with questions. So I will let you live. After a fashion. Your free will shall belong to me.'
Basset shouldn't have been able to speak, but he managed to moan one word.
'Never.'
Abbot squeezed harder.
'Never? Never, you say? But don't you know that never comes quickly here in Hybras?'
Then Abbot did what no warped demon should be able to do: he summoned magic from inside himself and let it shine through his eyes.
'You are mine,' he said to Basset, and his voice was layered with magic, and irresistible.
The others were so conditioned that they succumbed to just a tinge of the mesmer in his voice, but for Basset's fresh young mind, Abbot was calling forth every spark of magic in his system. Magic that he had stolen. Magic that, by fairy law, was never to be used to mesmerize another fairy.
Basset's face was turned red, and his forehead plate cracked.
'You are mine!' repeated Abbot, staring straight into Basset's captive eyes. 'You will never question me again.'
To Basset's credit, he fought the enchantment for several seconds, until the magic's power actually burst a blood vessel in his eye. Then, as the blood spread across the orange sclera of his eye, Basset's resolve faded, to be replaced by docile dullness.
'I am yours,' he intoned. 'I will never question you again.'
Abbot closed his eyes for a moment, drawing the magic back into himself. When he opened them again, he was all smiles.
'That's good. I am so glad to hear that, Basset. I mean, your option was quick and painful death, so you're better off as a mindless lapdog anyway.'
He climbed to his feet and graciously helped Basset to his.
'You've had a fall,' he explained, in a doctor — patient voice. 'And I'm helping you to your feet.'
Basset blinked dreamily. 'I will never question you again.'
'Oh, never mind all that now. Just sit down and do whatever I say.'
'I am yours,' said Basset.
Abbot slapped his cheek gently. 'And the others said we wouldn't get along.'
Abbot returned to his own chair at the head of the lodge. The chair was high-backed and made from various animal parts. He settled into it, paddling the armrests with his palms.
'I love this chair,' he said. 'Actually it's more of a throne than a chair, which brings me to our main business here today.' Abbot reached under a leather flap in the chair and pulled out a roughly fashioned bronze crown.
'I think it's about time the Council declared me king for life,' he said, fixing the crown on his head.
This new king-for-life idea would be a tough sell. A demon pride was always ruled over by the fittest, and it was a very temporary position.
Abbot had only survived as long as he had by mesmerizing anyone who dared challenge him.
Most of the Cquncil had been under Abbot's spell for so long that they accepted the suggestion as if it were a royal decree, but some of the younger ones shuddered with violent spasms as their true beliefs wrestled with this new repugnant idea.
Their struggles didn't last long. Abbot's suggestion spread like a virus through their conscious and subconscious, subduing revolution wherever it was found.
Abbot adjusted his crown slightly. 'Enough debate. All in favour, say graaarghl'
'GRAAARGH!' howled the demons, battering the table with gauntlets and swords.
'All hail King Leon,' prompted Abbot.
'ALL HAIL KING LEON!' mimicked the Council, like trained parrots.
The adulation was interrupted by a soldier demon, who burst through the lodge's flap.
'There's a… there was a big. .'
Abbot whipped off the crown. The general population wasn't ready for that yet.
'There's a what?' he demanded. 'A big what?'
The soldier paused, catching his breath. He realized suddenly that he'd better communicate the bigness of what had happened on the mountain, or else Abbot was liable to behead him for interrupting the meeting.
'There was a big flash.' A big flash? That didn't sound big enough.
'Let me start again. A huge flash of light came from the volcano. Two of the hunting party were nearby. They say someone came through. A group. Four beings.'
Abbot frowned. 'Beings?'
'Two demons, maybe. But the other two. The hunter doesn't know what they are.'
This was serious. Abbot knew it. These beings could be humans, or worse still, surviving warlocks. If it was a warlock, he would surely guess Abbot's secret. All it would take was one demon with some real power, and his hold on the pride would be gone. This situation had to be contained.
'Very well. The Council will investigate. Nobody else goes up there.'
The soldier's Adam's apple bobbed nervously, as if he was about to bear bad news. 'It's too late, Master Abbot. The entire pride is climbing the volcano.'
Abbot was halfway to the door before the soldier finished his sentence.
'Follow me!' he shouted to the other demons. 'And bring your weapons.'
