Snake Lady seemed confounded by our overall lack of not being dead.
I piloted over the TerryWalker and mentally commanded the other to go over to her. Burin jumped out of the crater and flew over. Gregor spoke to her, gesturing to the automaton he’d just recently de-piloted. “Could be useful,” he was saying. “Especially if one can command it to explode.”
I nodded approvingly. Seems that my love for explosions had rubbed off on the kid.
“As long as my master’s granddaughter is not in the room,” Snake Lady growled, but Gregor was only half-listening. He’d spotted something poking out of the coat of a nearby corpse. He bounded over to it and pulled free another note.
Despite it being drenched in blood, he managed to read it aloud just fine: “I have begun to understand my Dragon Lord’s fears of the Runelord. If what the Prophet has told me is true, if I were to challenge this mortal directly, I would die, as would any other demon lord. Only Lamashtu has a chance of facing him, and he is careful to make sure he is out of her reach, though I suspect that she has already put into motion plans to deal with him. Still, the prospect of a mortal like that is frightening. The Prophet is an absolute bitch, and somehow immune to my charms, but she has never lied to me.”
“Seems like very critical information for a rando to be carrying around,” I mused aloud dryly, glancing up at the ruined statue. It was one good push away from toppling over. Considering what the red bitch had done to Emily and Persephone, I was more than sorely tempted to give it some help…
“They were evacuating with anything important,” Snake Lady replied coolly. She glanced over at the singed walls. “Those walls are magically enchanted to keep anyone from teleporting in and out. Unfortunately, this security measure backfired on us, keeping everyone from being able to escape this ambush using magical means.”
“My heart bleeds,” was my dry response. “Who’s in charge here? Or rather, who was in charge here?”
“The facility was run by the forge master. A demon named Toglekath.”
“He alive or dead?”
“I do not know. Support for this facility has gone dark. Our Mistress seems to be focused on something else after the death of the dragon lord.”
So word had gotten out about Typhon’s death. Made sense. I wondered if the rest of the syndicate knew I’d been the one to finally put him down. If they did, it was only a matter of time before they came after me-and anyone I was associated with-for revenge. But one problem at a time.
“What’s your name?” Burin asked Snake Lady.
“Nicassar,” she answered.”
“Nice to meet you!”
“Who sent you?” I interjected before the dwarf’s overt friendliness could give away our true identities.
“Lady Jynevera. I am here looking for her daughter Nessrya.”
“Okie-dokie,” Burin said. “Well my name’s Burin. And that’s Gregor. And the one in the metal construct is Terry.”
…Sigh. Why do I even bother?
On that pleasant note, we pushed forward, venturing deeper into the “facility” as Nicassar had called it. I replaced the demon in TerryWalker1 with one of my little bots (Gregor was more than willing to put the demon down) and I took up the rear with the two automatons. We passed by several stone rooms filled with various tools and alchemical supplies like beakers and jars. I snagged a few jars of alchemical fire for a rainy day, because why not? Nobody was there to stop me. Actually, nobody was even around. It was a ghost town. Well, a demon-ghost town.
We eventually turned right into a larger room. It looked to be the main laboratory where the demon-transforming potions were being made. We scooped up a few more vials of that, because, again, why not? I wasn’t planning on going demon again after all of this was over, but if there was ever an occasion or job where it’d be advantageous to slip it into someone’s drink…?
On top of that, we found another piece of writing. It’d slipped beneath one of the tables. Gregor handed it over to me. Apparently it was my turn to read. “Korkath, I’ve begun to grow concerned. I thought the idea was that we help this so-called Dragon Lord with his problem, and in exchange he would marshal his forces to help us against Baphomet. But I’m hearing from Jokaxal that Nocticula has been spending all her time with that mortal child, and meanwhile, the Minotaur’s forces continue encroaching on her territory. Is this true? And what of this ‘Ultimate Weapon’ that she has Imrogath working on? I’m not sure I find it all that impressive, and not worth all the security she has put around it.”
As soon as I was done, Burin began to read another letter. The apparent response to the one I’d just read aloud. “Malrokich, You would do well to keep your concerns to yourself. Our Lady In Shadow has everything well in hand. It will be only a matter of time before Baphomet’s head adorns her throne and Toglekath’s creation will be instrumental in delivering it. And do not concern yourself with the child. It too has a role to play in her plans. Korkath.”
“Friction in the workplace,” I muttered.
After that things got a little livelier. We ran into more hell walkers breaking into some kind of armory. I think we freaked Nicassar a little bit by the fact that, instead of being scared or wary, the three of us had fun taking them down. It was us venting out pent-up frustration, I think. Frustration over being betrayed and taken out (like punks in Gregor’s and my case) by Baba Yaga. Frustration over losing Emily, Persephone, and Anastasia. We’re guys. Sometimes the only therapy we need is the opportunity to smash, tear apart, or shoot demon robots. Even Burin didn’t hold back. Reminding me again that, as annoying as he can be, it was a very, very good thing that we were both on the same side.
Anyway, after all the violence was over, we entered the armory and went to work doing the second-best thing that we’re good at: Stealing shit!
And oooooh boy did we luck out! We had precious metals up the butt, along with a platinum cannon! It was a big boy. Burin could lug it around with some effort, but for the time being I had both him and Gregor help me attach it to TerryWalker2. While I went to work on that, Nicassar and Burin found a secret compartment in the floor. He pulled out a red, barbed whip. According to him, the weapon was radiating an ungodly amount of chaotic energy. He focused on it and the whip transformed into a blood-red axe. It turned back into a whip just as easily, making Nicassar gasp (hiss?) in wonder.
“That must be our Mistress’ sacred weapon!” she exclaimed.
Sacred weapon, eh? I thought. Was this what Samantha was after…?
Despite her reverence towards the whip, Nicassar didn’t try to take it from Burin. She looked annoyed that we were stealing everything of value, but she held her forked tongue. Once we were on the move again, she kept to the rear this time, keeping us between her and any more potential, robotic threats.
Smart considering that we encountered another small squad of them a few halls down. And amongst the wreckage, pinned under a fallen pillar, was a young demon girl. She was more cute than supernaturally beautiful, with black hair and green eyes and dressed in a frayed shroud. While Gregor played with the hell walkers, Burin picked the pillar up off of the girl and tossed it away. Nicassar went to her, took her into her arms.
“Nessrya,” she said, cupping the girl’s bleeding face. She looked up at the snake woman with glazed eyes. “Your mother has sent me.”
“…Mother?” the girl whimpered before falling into unconsciousness. I looked on at the pair, not saying a word. At least, not out loud.
Good and Bad Terry were having a conversation.
But Good Terry was tired. Good Terry had just lost his wife and daughter again. Good Terry had just learned that his son was the Devil’s prisoner. So, Good Terry didn’t need much convincing to step aside and let Bad Terry whisper in my ear. He whispered words that tugged at the corner of my lips, almost making me smile…
It took a few minutes before Nicassar could stir Nessrya awake again. The younger demon looked up at her confused, before flinching back in terror at the sight of me. Or really, the TerryWalkers. Nicassar immediately went to work convincing her that they, along with the boys and I, were on their side and here to rescue her.
“Hello,” Burin said to the girl. “How do you feel?”
“…Weak,” she replied, struggling to her feet with Nicassar’s help. Seeing that, I exited my TerryWalker.
“Get in,” I told her, pointing at the automaton. “You’ll slow us down if you don’t. We’ll talk on the way to…wherever.”
Nessrya looked like she wanted to argue, but a reassuring nod from the snake woman made her comply. As we pushed forward, I ordered the TerryWalker to keep pace with us. I then asked her, “What’s the last thing that you remember before almost being smushed by that pillar?”
“I was hiding,” she admitted. “From Jokaxal and Malrokich. As the weakest demon here, they love tormenting me.” She said that last bit as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “Something’s gone wrong with Toglekath. And it is likely to do with the ultimate weapon.”
“How can you be so sure?” Nicassar asked.
“Once he began rambling to himself constantly, before all fell to chaos, I snuck into his quarters to try and find the cause of his madness. And I found these.” And then she pulled out another batch of yellowed pages from her tattered shroud.
“Before we get into that,” I said. “What even is the ultimate weapon?”
“I do not know it’s true nature,” she said. “And on this point, Toglekath was also ignorant. And he was the one tasked with forging it!” She then read, “I don’t think the Mistress herself understands what she has given me. The weapon she has me forging…it’s so beautiful. I sometimes find myself staring at it for hours on end. She has promised that it will be the key to our war against Baphomet. I did not believe her at first. But now, I see the truth of her words. With this weapon on our side, there’s no way we can fail.
“I must guard my mind. Its power is beyond even me, sometimes. I can hear it speaking to me, telling me of all the things it wants me to do. It hungers, and it will happily take the life force of those idiots who serve here if we do not unleash it upon Our Lady in Shadow’s foes soon. No, that’s exactly what we should do. That’s why the weapon is not yet ready, why its completion eludes me. I must feed it. Those around me will die in Her name…”
“Depressing,” I grunted. “So it’s not a whip?” I pointed at Burin, who had the weapon in question.
Nessrya shook her head. “No, that was supposed to be a gift for Auntie.”
“So finder’s keepers?” Gregor asked. The girl gave a do-what-you-want-kind of shrug. He nodded before tilting his head. “This weapon…so nobody knows what it is or does?”
“Not necessarily. It was given to us by the dragon lord. Some mortal. I never met him. Yet, as part of the plan, a group was sent into Hell to steal a hell forge. Technology that is beyond demons. With it these hell walkers were forged, and it played a critical role in forging the ultimate weapon.” Nessrya swallowed hard. “I have seen it. Only once. It was most definitely stolen from another realm.
“It used to be an orb. The heat from the forge and repeated hammer strikes have warped it. Perhaps it glowed brightly once, but it now pulses black, though with flecks of gold shining through. Likely because the process is still incomplete.”
I took a second to absorb the information before asking, “does the name ‘Typhon Lee’ ring any bells?”
Nessrya frowned, troubled, while Nicassar nodded.
“That is the mortal, the dragon lord,” she said.
“What’s the last news that you received on him? Prior to his death, I mean.”
“None of late. He only ever visited once. To place a child-a baby-under our Mistress’ protection.”
“A baby?” Burin asked, frowning. Or maybe that was just the shape of his new face.
“Before we venture too close,” Nessrya spoke up, “I must warn you that there is a trap just outside the forge. If set off it will result in a great explosion. One that even gods might struggle to survive.”
The boys and I nodded politely, trying our best to look appropriately concerned. I kept close to the girl. She set the page with the forge master’s ramblings to the side. That still left two full pages left.
“What you got there?” I asked casually.
She glanced over at me, gripping the pages protectively. She studied my face before glancing down, looking deeply troubled. “The child Nicassar mentioned…I could not make heads or tails of these. They’re not Toglekath’s writings. They’re Grandmother’s. But now, with added context, it makes some sense…”
She handed the pages over to me.
I read them, mostly to myself, “I attempted to take back the child gifted to me by my Dragon Lord through the power of the land of dreams. To my surprise, those who stole her from me came to claim her back. To my greater surprise, the two who arrived were the former prison of Amgorath and the daughter of the Runelord! I tried to convince them to leave peaceably, but they proved their violence and fought against me surprisingly well. That dwarf was incredibly infuriating, somehow twisting my commands by either the power of his will or the sheer strength of his stupidity.
“The Runelord’s Daughter seems to have powerful allies. The Dreamwatcher appeared and acted on her behalf, banishing me from the realm of dreams, on pain of death. While it is possible I could have taken her with me, fighting was not the wisest decision. So I fled, leaving the child to them. I will speak to my Dragon Lord about ending the threat outside of the dream realms and returning my prize to me.
“Until then, the other child he has given me has begun to walk. I do not know why, but I find myself lost in watching her. She is so very beautiful. I am glad they did not attempt to steal her from me, or I might have had to fight after all.”
That was everything on the first page. I handed it back to the girl and read the second. “My Dragon Lord is dead. I began to suspect that the Prophet had lied to me, but I opened the letter she had given me the day we first spoke, the one I had promised not to open because she told me opening it would invalidate her prophecies. Since I no longer believed in her words that no longer held me back. She had known he would die, and that this would be the moment I would open the letter. It read:
“Typhon Lee is dead, and with him, the first has fallen. It was always his fate to fall. Guard the child. For she bears a destiny all her own. And do not be dismayed, for while it will be a Dragon Lord that is the key to your goals, it was never Typhon Lee who was the final key, merely a step in the direction. There will be two more, each fulfilling their own roles in furthering your goal. By three they come. By three, thy way shall be opened. The blood of the willing shall set you free.”
As I read the letter, I had flashes of visions. Desert sands swirled before me, and I saw a face. I will seek him, the next Dragon Lord. And what of the weapon, Typhon’s greatest hope for destroying the Runelord? I will have Imrogath’s continue working on it. When it is complete, I will give it to my new Dragon Lord. I suspect that the third Dragon Lord will be too powerful to need it.”
Hmmm, I thought, handing the last page back. So there’s two more dragons to kill…
Focus, Terry. Save family first. More dragon murder later.
“Weird,” I told the girl. “Your grandmother’s a real piece of work. A real hard worker. I hope that one day she gets what she deserves.”
“Yes,” Nessrya replied, beaming. “She is the worst of us! I hope I can be just like her one day!”
I just smiled in response while Bad Terry laughed.
We finally approached a giant steel door which I assumed was the entrance to the forge. The trap turned out to be a tile that sunk into the ground when stepped on. How do I know? Well, because Burin set it off of course!
The ceiling split apart and small meteors fell. Everything went boom. Nicassar and I ducked behind the TerryWalkers for cover while the girl yelped and ducked down low inside. Gregor punched the fire away. Not kidding.
When the blast finally faded and Burin walked back over to us, much to the girls’ mutual shock, I called over to Gregor, “I got shot up once or twice, but compared to our usual adventures, this trip’s going…smoothly?”
He nodded. “Yes, even with Lyriana being dead but not dead, and Burin being Burin, nothing we cannot handle. Especially now that you are ugly.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. “Yeah, well, honestly, I was way more spooked by Samantha’s ship than this place.”
Gregor’s expression became dead serious. I couldn’t tell if he was joking as he said, “Was giant goose. None here. Is why it’s less scary. Lack of geese.”
“For now,” I sighed. “Watch out for falling geese.”
But no, fate wasn’t that much of a prick. We entered the forge without further issue. The forge itself was a cavernous, circular room. The echoing of a hammer striking steel caused the air itself to vibrate and my teeth to chatter. The forge master would have been impossible to miss. He made giants look puny, with a hammer as big as I am tall. He had his back to us. I turned to the boys and mouthed, Trust me.
They did, actually. With a heavy heart, I ordered my little bot to drive the TerryWalker forward. He gave me a salute as he went, making an acidic tear trickle from my eye. The walker got up to the forge master’s left leg before the demon even noticed.
He glanced down, muttered, “What the-?!”
I mentally ordered the automaton to blow up.
It did. The demon survived the explosion, but he was knocked sideways, onto his back. And what followed next was the demonic equivalent of me knocking down a grumpy, senile old man so that his two friends could beat him to death.
But if it almost killed him, Bad Terry said suggestively.
“Shush you,” I muttered as Burin finally dealt the finishing blow, driving his axe down into Toglekath’s skull. Afterwards, Gregor touched the demon’s large hammer. It shrunk so as to fit in his hand. The monk shrugged and took it. Finder’s keepers. Hammer in hand, he joined the rest of us over at a giant table positioned at the rear of the forge. Atop it was a black orb just as Nessrya had described, roughly the size of a human heart.
Naturally, Burin picked it up.
He actually released a pained yelp as black energy immediately spiraled up out of the orb and into his arm. His flesh bubbled, he spasmed in place, and changed back into Burin the Dwarf Wizard.
“Oh, wow!” Gregor exclaimed, feigning amazement. He gestured to all of Burin. “That is the ultimate weapon! It turns demons into dwarves! What kind of sick magic is this?! They plan to turn Baphomet’s army into dwarves?!”
“The horror!” I exclaimed, playing along. “Being dwarves?! There truly is no crueler, and idiotic, fate!”
“Guys, we’re not really demons,” Burin called over to us wheezily, ever the buzzkill. He held up his trembling arm. It was still being attacked by black energy. “This really hurts. I’m gonna put it in the bag now.”
As he did that, Gregor and I glanced over at the demon ladies to see if they were going to try anything. Nicassar narrowed her eyes at us, before slumping forward, running a hand across her face. “Dwarf army? That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” she groaned. “And honestly, I’d assumed you weren’t what you said you were from the beginning.” She shot Nessrya a glance. “But I do not care. I achieved my mission regardless.”
She waved a flippant hand. “Have fun with the weapon. Come, Nessrya. We’re off.”
As if hearing her, a portal appeared in the center of the forge. One of Samantha’s.
“Guess you’re not the only ones. But first.” I detached the cannon from the TerryWalker, gave it to Burin to carry, and then patted the automaton affectionately. Hypothetically, with the right components, I could make more. Nessrya watched me work with curious eyes…
I waited to see if Good Terry was going to speak up.
But no.
Her eyes reminded him too much of Emily’s.
After exchanging brief goodbyes with the demon pair, Burin, Gregor, and I stepped through the portal together, finally leaving the demon planet. But, just before the portal closed behind us, I thought a single word.
Boom.
I didn’t hear or see the explosion, but I swear that a part of me felt it. As I smiled, I glanced around and saw that we were back on Samantha’s ship. Specifically the garden.
A cold shiver suddenly shot up my spine, killing my smile. Something giggled girlishly. I looked back and forth, asked, “Samantha?”
The strange woman was nowhere to be seen.
“Terry?” Gregor called back, looking over his shoulder. “You coming?”
“…Uh…Yeah.” I scratched at the base of my neck. I was still a demon. Hopefully that’d wear off soon. “Just hearing things I guess. Come on. Let’s deliver this evil ball and see if Lyriana’s finally back.”