with desperation the greatest of demonesses sought to plead for her existence.
'No,' was all Gord whispered at Zuggtmoy's first utterances. Two jagged rays issued from him, each Theorpart sending forth its killing force. The twin beams struck Zuggtmoy squarely, and nothing remained of the queen of fungi thereafter.
If a deep and hollow laughter rolled faintly through the grotto then, Gord ignored it.
Chapter 12
'Where is Leda?' It was more a demand to know than a question.
'What? I don't know,' Gellor stammered, still dazed by the sudden blaze that had destroyed the demoness. 'Leda was there,' he said, pointing to a place on the grotto's floor. 'She sent some dweomer to Zuggtmoy to distract the demoness, I think. I felt the rebuke and force of Zuggtmoy's counter to that. Leda was stunned by the attack, but it enabled me to fight back — to stay alive! Then I lost track because I was again fully occupied in the duel.'
Gord ran to the place his comrade indicated. The soft stuff of the floor retained impressions of heel marks and an indentation where a small, mail-clad form might have lain. 'Help me search, Gellor,' he called. 'You have far more skill at such work than I.'
Only their own tracks entering the place led back to the stairway. 'She must be somewhere in this grotto,' the troubador ventured. 'Leda hasn't left this way.'
'No. She isn't here. I can read nothing of her — no thoughts, not a glimmer of her aura. She has. . gone!'
'You don't think. .?' Gellor didn't finish the question, for the thought was too painful for him, let along his young friend.
There was steel in the young champion's voice as he filled in the words. 'That she was blasted in the conflagration which consumed Zuggtmoy? Not if she was where you said she fell.' Gord paused, then went to the place again. Small foot-marks were there, and the steps went toward the spot where the fungoid demoness had squatted. 'By the gods, no! It can not be!'
Gellor came to stand beside him. Then, feeling inadequate, looking for something, anything to alleviate the tension, the bard studied the area. His enchanted eye saw far more than Gord's own eyes did, even with the paranormal perceptions the champion now possessed.
'Gord! You are right! See?' Gellor pointed to a place and watched his comrade's face. Gord's bleak expression didn't change. 'You can't see? Well, I do clearly enough, old friend. Leda went no farther than this spot. The blast which devoured Zuggtmoy couldn't have harmed her; the distance is too great.'
'Then tell me where her footprints lead!'
Gellor stooped, peered, then arose shaking his iron-streaked locks. 'Leda's steps end here. She went nowhere beyond this spot, not even backward. Here her trail simply vanishes!'
Gord took some small comfort in that. 'At least she is not dead — from anything which took place here, anyway. We must find her, but I can't search properly from this place. Watch for any enemies while I gather the Theorparts and reclaim Courflamme.'
It required only minutes to do that. Then Gord and the bard emerged from the underground place to the hardly different surface of what had been the domain of the queen of demon fungi. The atmosphere was redolent with sickly odors, and a keening filled their ears. As the two emerged, a thousand monstrous things moved. They had been drawn to the surging violence, the dark forces at play in the battle, but had been kept at bay by the dweomer of Gellor's mighty kanteel. Now the demon creatures were wailing their loss to fear and hopelessness. The very stuff of Mycorji was churning, pitching, and rolling in earthquake heaves, splitting and crumbling. The grotto was the epicenter, and the waves of despair ran outward, sweeping in growing circles to inform all the demons of the great stratum about the death of Zuggtmoy.
'This is no place to scry, either,' Gord said with disgust. 'The shock of what has occurred will be transmitted to the whole of the Abyss soon — if the lords of demonium don't know already.'
'Yes. Not only this sphere but the whole of the netherworlds will be aware of the deaths of their own soon.' Gellor counted the toll. 'First the two old demons, Shabriri and Pazuzeus, and their master, the demonurgist Gravestone. . That alone should have been sufficient warning to put our evil foes on guard.'
'Their own greed and hateful desires blinded them to the certainty of the ancient prophecy, I think' Gord noted.
'Then Nerull nearly met death — the thing he is supposed to be lord of,' the bard said, nearly laughing as he spoke that. 'You plucked the Theorpart from him as if he were no more than a lamb.' Gord nodded, saying that it was the unexpected force of Courflamme which surprised the daemon. Gellor went on with his list. 'Besides the various and sundry demons and their beasts and brutes we have made into fertilizer, the foes must now toll their dirges for Zuggtmoy of the Abyss, Iuz of demonium and Oerth, and Iggwilv the Mother of Black Witches.'
'And along with that roster goes the second portion of the artifact, my friend. There will be much frenzy and ranting, I think, amongst the demons' councils now. Yet we are missing Leda. That is intolerable. I must get to a place where I can use the powers of these relics to search for her.'
'Unless I have confused the intelligence which was given me, Gord, I think there is a place deep herein which even the demonlords avoid. We can venture there for respite.'
Gord nodded. 'With our force, we'll have no trouble there — for a short time. No longer can our location be disguised, though, so we must be quick and be ready. The demons will seek us out wherever we go now, for the Theorparts must be regained by them, or else in their view all will be lost.'
'Can they do that?'
'No,' the young champion responded simply. 'Let them think it, though. Then they will bring Unbinder to us.'
To say that there was consternation among the rulers of demonium would be far too reserved. With the death of Zuggtmoy and the sudden change of balance caused by the loss of the Theorpart, a shock ran through demonium and impacted all of the other lower spheres too. The great battle with Graz'zt came to a sudden, unprecedented cessation. Although demons do not surrender, the great lords who were desperately opposing the ebon demonking were shocked into asking for quarter and parley. It was unthinkable for the haughty Graz'zt to accept, for his enemies were in the palm of his six-fingered hand. But though he did not acknowledge the request, a short time thereafter Graz'zt ordered all of his forces to cease attacking. After a few thousand more of the foe were slain in reactive situations, and a few of Graz'zt's own troops who would not stop were cut down by commanders enforcing the demonking's order, the battlefield became silent.
'The foundations of our world are undermined,' Baphomet bellowed with a distress that transmitted to each demon-heart beating there. 'Worse than Tharizdun, may that name be forever in chains, would be the hegemony of the neither hot nor cold pap of the neutral ones.'
'Hear me!' The demand was from Orcus, suddenly returned to the place of conflict. 'I am come to pledge my whole strength to a cause no demon can deny!'
'Speak demonking. We listen!' That response from Graz'zt was met by roaring agreement from the assembled beings of demonium.
In the next hour, three of the greatest of the Abyss and thirty times that number of princes and lords of demonium also voiced their burning words. Whether already arrayed there on the former battlefield or newly come from some other place within the Abyss, these arrogantly independent lords of demonium vowed to band together to fight a common enemy.
Of the five remaining monarchs of demonium, four finally pledged to the cause. Zuggtmoy was gone, of course. Only Arachne, the Spider Queen, withheld joining. Demogorgon was, naturally, reticent but eventually went along with Graz'zt, Orcus, and Marduk Fully two thirds of the princes and lords, the masters of the strata, tiers and regions of demonium's vast reaches, did likewise when the great gathering was held on Mezzafgraduun several days afterward. The stupid lesser sorts of demons were uncaring. Those of greater power were uncertain, but the rulers of demonium were filled with a determination.
