The Heavenly Host

“Nor I,” Farsooth admitted.

“Very well, then.” Beya began rummaging in her pouch and pulled out some stones, which she began placing around the mud golem. “For stability,” she said.

The mud golem watched impassively, saying nothing.

Beya began sketching symbols or runes around the mud golem. Finally, she scooped up some mud near the golem’s left foot and rubbed it on her eyelids, ears, nose and around her mouth.

With that complete, she began chanting softly and closed her eyes. Damien could neither understand nor even clearly hear what she was chanting. The mud golem closed its eyes, or eye sockets he guessed.

A moment later, Beya began shaking and her chanting stopped. She drew in a large breath and opened her eyes. Damien noticed the other shamans blinking at Beya in surprise. Damien shifted to get a better look at the shaman’s face and had to blink too. Her eyes were like crystalline pools of liquid. That description made absolutely no sense and was, in fact, contradictory; however, that was the only thing Damien could think of to describe her eyes.

Clearly, Beya was now possessed by the djinn of the mud golem. The Beya-golem began turning around, slowly looking at each of the people in the corridor. She smiled as her gaze came upon Reggie.

“A sex demon? You might make a very enjoyable anchor.” The Beya-golem chuckled. Her voice sounded quite different from Beya’s. Much smoother, softer.

Actually rather disconcerting, if truth be told, thought Damien.

As she continued to turn, her eyes came upon Völund. “You are Völund the smith. I have shared visions and experiences of you with our previous military adjutants. It is good to know you are still here.”

As her eyes moved to Phaestus, they widened. “Vulcan. You have returned to your creation. Not in Memphis, nor Olympus... but here. It is an honor to encounter you.”

It was odd that she clearly recognized Hephaestus, but odd she should call him by a different name, Damien thought.

She continued on, noting but not saying anything to the other shamans. Her eyes crossed Damien’s and she stopped and stared at him disconcertingly.

“Inquisitor Damien. You are, perhaps, one of the last people I would have expected to see here.” Her head tilted. “With the possible exception of Lenamare or Jehenna.” She smiled. Everyone else was now staring at Damien.

“I’m sorry, how do you know me? Or them? I don’t believe I have ever met a djinn,” Damien said nervously.

The djinn made an amused half-chuckle. “No, we have not met. However, as with Völund, I have shared visons and experiences of you with another of my kind.”

“Are you saying that the djinn are monitoring the Council of Wizardry?” Damien asked worriedly. Would they need to put up Lenamare’s wards permanently?

She smiled again. “Not directly. We are observing someone else who is of concern to us, and who frequently interacts with the Council.”

“Who might that be?” Damien asked. This was making him very uncomfortable. The world was quickly becoming far more complicated than he expected.

She gave him a slight frown. “I’m sorry, but I am afraid I am not at liberty to reveal that information.” She looked truly contrite. Or at least as contrite as an orc face could look.

“Can you at least tell me if this person puts the Council in danger with his or her interactions?” Damien asked.

The djinn shook her head slowly. “I think you are discovering the answer to that through your inquisition.”

She then started turning again to complete her circle. She nodded, having observed everyone. She paused thoughtfully, and then spoke again. “I have been asked to inquire if Tisdale is here?”

Damien shook his head. “Is there anyone that demon does not know?”

The djinn looked at him. “Yes, you know him. He was in Freehold before the wards went up. He was with the demon that captured the knight. Am I correct in assuming that the new Master of Mount Doom is the same demon that stole mana from Tiernon?”

“Stole mana from Tiernon?” Phaestus stared at Völund. “I think there may be a few things you neglected to mention...”

“He is!” Vaselle spoke up.

The djinn looked to Vaselle. “You are a warlock, yes?”

“I am,” Vaselle said proudly.

“To the Master of Mount Doom?”

“Yes.”

“I would like to speak with the new Master of Mount Doom when it is convenient,” the djinn said.

Vaselle sighed. “Well, he’s a bit tied up at the moment. He’s trying to finish taking oaths from all the D’Orcs, and then we will have a feast.”

“Hmm,” the djinn said and then nodded. “I can wait until he is finished with the oath-taking ceremony. I will be in this corridor. Have Beya repeat this exercise to reengage dialogue.”

Suddenly Beya’s eyes closed and she started slumping to the ground. Farsooth moved quickly to catch her.

“Okay, then,” Phaestus said.

∼

^{DOF +10}

^{Shortly After Lunch (Oorstemoth) 16-07-440}