Sword of the Gods - Bruce R. Cordell [90]
The demon undulated on a bed of scarlet tendrils, moving as lightly as a dream despite its bulk, until it was directly before Demascus’s cage.
Demascus craned his blindfolded gaze right and left, sniffing the air.
“I am here,” said Murmur, its voice a cavalcade of scurrying rats. “But you already know that, don’t you, foul entity?”
The deva jerked. He said, “My name is Demascus.”
“I recognize you whatever your name. I saw you outside the Motherhouse. You’ve hunted me across creation. You nearly managed to catch me unawares while I was still weak and awake only while my host dreamed. But I saw you first! Now look where your devotion to duty has gotten you: alone and soon to be food for the pit!”
Demascus’s chin dropped. He said, his voice low, “I don’t remember you. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Riltana looked away from the drama and squeezed Carmenere’s shoulder. She pointed at the cage where Chant was chained. She dropped her head to the silverstar’s ear and said in a bare whisper, “I’m going to free the pawnbroker while the demon-thing gloats. Be ready to run for the exit.”
“When?” Carmenere whispered back.
“You’ll know when. Your equipment is in the chest beneath this damned aviary.” Riltana slunk to the hatch, her eyes fastened on Murmur’s broad back. She was ready to freeze in place should the demon turn her way.
Murmur shouted to Demascus, “Don’t lie to me! You and your band disrupted the ritual and blasted us into oblivion. And now you’re here to tidy up loose ends.”
Riltana reached the edge of the cage, then leaped into the arms of the air. They bore her like a silent breath in an arc that grazed the cavern roof, then down. She alighted silently on the cage holding Chant. Her eyes darted back to check on the demon. It still hadn’t noticed her. Keep it talking, she thought.
The deva said, “I don’t know you. My first … clear memory is from a shrine west of Airspur. Dead Cabal members everywhere. But that’s not my first memory of Faerûn. I remember other things … Just not you. I didn’t come looking for you. If you know me, you must have drawn me here. Why?”
“A shrine west of Airspur?” said Murmur. As the demon spoke it stretched one rubbery limb until it touched the cage next to Demascus’s. “Surrounded by a ring of stone columns?”
“Yes,” said the deva.
Murmur’s elongating fingers slid the latch on the cage. It said, “I know that shrine well. I sent a group of servitors and nightmare scions there.”
Riltana quietly rolled off the top of Chant’s cage. The human inside was awake. His eyes darted between her and the demon. He knew enough to keep quiet.
“I found your cultists and monsters,” said Demascus. “They were all dead. Except for one hungry little biter I dispatched. Why did you send them to the shrine? I thought I’d been kidnapped as a sacrifice for some kind of demonic ritual …”
Murmur’s tarry limb snaked into the cell and wrapped around a boy. The boy’s head lolled. His eyes bulged in fear, and he uttered a guttural cry of distress.
The nightmare demon said, “One of my servitors told me of the place. So I sent them to collect a portion of the spiritual energy building there.”
“Spiritual energy?”
Murmur withdrew the boy and raised him over its head. The kid’s struggles became more frenzied, but the demon’s resilient grip held him without strain. What can I do? Riltana thought. If I show myself, the thing will just grab me too.
She swallowed and turned away from the scene. She threw the bolt of the pawnbroker’s cage, entered, and produced her wires and picks.
Chant’s eyes were glued to the tableau outside. With the twist and lift of a wire, she removed the first manacle. The pawnbroker flinched, and mouthed, “No!” A scream ripped her attention back to the chamber.
Murmur’s grip was empty … It had thrown the boy into the insect pit.
The volume of the swarming insects swelled. The sound of thousands of hungry mandibles, beating wasp wings, rustling carapaces, and scuttling spider legs drowned the sound of someone being consumed alive by insects. Oh gods!
Chant went for the exit,