‘What of their look?’ Laromendis asked.
Gulamendis shrugged. ‘Before all this, I thought myself familiar with demons, but in the last few days I have seen more creatures which are new to me than I have my entire life. Demons always tend to a type: battle demons are large and powerful, but they can look like bulls or lizards or bulls and lizards, or lions or…’ He shrugged. ‘Flyers tend to be small, but we saw some very large nasty ones on Hub. I’ve seen demons in magician’s robes.’ He sighed. ‘I wish we had that human warlock around to talk with; he knew a great deal, as did his friends, Pug and Magnus.’
‘If we get Home, let’s go visit them,’ suggested his brother, dryly, ‘but until we do, we should turn our attentions to the matter at hand; illusions or skulking?’
‘Skulking,’ said Gulamendis. ‘Save your energies for other conjurations.’
‘Skulking it is,’ said Laromendis, carefully opening the door.
The marshalling yard to their left was empty and the shortest distance to the side of the massive keep was directly across from them. ‘If someone’s watching from one of those windows above, we will be seen,’ said Laromendis softly.
‘It’s dark,’ said his brother. ‘If we hurry…’
Not waiting another moment, Laromendis dashed from the large storage shed and his brother followed, pausing only to close the door behind them, before setting off at a full run. It was not a vast distance, less than fifty yards, but they felt as if they were exposed on every side for the longest time.
Hugging the keep wall, they waited, listening for any sounds of alarm. When none was forthcoming, Gulamendis said, ‘Now what?’
‘That way,’ said his brother, pointing to the rear of the keep.
‘Why that way?’
‘Would you rather try to walk in the main entrance?’
‘Point taken,’ conceded the Demon Master and the two elves moved towards the rear of the keep.
Reaching a tower, they moved around its base until they were looking at a large rear yard, half the size of the marshalling yard. Laromendis whispered. ‘I see steps leading down to a basement door, and a broad flight of steps leading up beyond that.’
‘Down,’ said Gulamendis. ‘Let’s sneak in through the basement’.
‘Have you wondered why there are no guards?’
‘I presume they’re all too busy obliterating other demons wherever it was we were before we came through the portal.’
‘One can hope, but I still find it odd that we’ve only seen that one battle demon and those two small patrols,’ Laromendis observed.
‘Count it a blessing and move on!’ hissed his brother.
They made a dash for the steps leading down and found themselves before two large doors. The latch was unsecured and Laromendis gently pulled the nearest door open just enough to peer through. ‘It’s a long, dark stairway,’ Laromendis whispered.
‘Is there anyone there?’
‘Not that I can see.’ The Conjurer slipped through the door, with his brother following.
‘This is the height of madness,’ said the Demon Master.
‘If I push you back to the wall, do not move. I’m going to make us look like part of the stone.’
As plans went, it wasn’t a particularly brilliant one, but Gulamendis didn’t have a better one so he said nothing.
They moved down a very long staircase that took them deep into the basement of the keep. It finally ended in a large chamber, and Gulamendis judged they were at least three storeys below the surface. The chamber had four doors, the one through which they had just stepped, two other open doorways with stairs leading up, and a barred, heavy wooden one opposite them.
‘That one,’ whispered Laromendis.
His brother gave him a tiny push from behind, signalling his agreement, and they quickly crossed the open room. The door had a small, barred window, and they peered through it. ‘It’s a dungeon!’ said Gulamendis.
Through the small window they could see a long hallway: floor-to-ceiling bars separated cells on the right. Evenly spaced on the other side, stood three large, heavy wooden doors like the one through which they stared.
In the barred cells, they could see captives: humans, dwarves, and elves. The last were lesser kin to the taredhel, being of similar stature, but smaller than the two brothers. ‘What is this?’ whispered Laromendis.
‘Demons don’t take prisoners,’ whispered Gulamendis back.
‘What now?’
‘I have no idea.’
In an inexplicable dungeon, beneath an impossible keep, on a world unknown to them the day before, created by beings also unknown to them, the two elven brothers stood motionless, crippled by the fact they had no idea of what to do next.
CHAPTER TEN - Demon Lore
JIM GROANED.
The festivities had ended far too late for him to be welcoming the dawn, yet Pug, Magnus, and Amirantha had come into his room at first light, pulled aside the draperies and insisted he awake.