The Heavenly Host

Hilda beamed in admiration at Jenn and Gastropé. “Clearly you’ve been through so much, far more than wizards three times your age ever have to deal with. I’m dying to hear of your adventures, if you have time at some point?” She turned to Trisfelt suddenly. “You know, I do happen to have a couple of bottles of note with me, and a few alvaren delicacies? Perhaps we could all have dinner this evening?” She gestured to Gastropé and Jenn.

Trisfelt started nodding and Jenn was grinning but then suddenly frowned. “Oh, I’m sorry. Dang it! I completely forgot!” She grimaced in frustration, and Gastropé also groaned.

“What is it, my dear?” Hilda asked.

“We are leaving this evening for the Grove, on an expedition.”

“An expedition?” Trisfelt asked, puzzled.

“To the Grove?” Hilda’s eyes widened. “That is quite an undertaking. Surely, my dear, you’ve had enough adventures for a while?” Hilda asked, giving Jenn a reassuring pat on her forearm.

“Yes, well, the two armies outside are looking for Gastropé, Maelen and me, as well as Edwyrd and Rupert, and the Council wants us out of Freehold as of about a week ago,” Jenn explained.

“So the three of us are going with Elrose and Councilor D’Vils to the Grove and then on to Natoor,” Gastropé informed them.

Hilda blinked. “You are going with Trevin D’Vils to the Grove and then on to Natoor?” She blinked a few more times. “Surely there are... less remote places you could go to get away from the Rod? They have a bigger presence on Natoor than on Norelon. In fact, given the route to get there, you are passing through the heart of the Rod’s operations. Unless you’ve got a gateway?”

Jenn shook her head. “No, we are going conventionally, whatever that means. Given that Trevin D’Vils appears to be about 300 years old, I can’t imagine she actually intends to go on horseback and sailing ship, but you never know.”

Hilda looked slightly puzzled. She mused out loud, “Trevin D’Vils? I’m surprised she’s not dust at this point.” Jenn did not think they were supposed to hear that, but they all did. Hilda seemed to suddenly realize she was thinking aloud and blushed.

Jenn grinned at Hilda and whispered, “She’s ancient, and wears the most inappropriate clothing!”

Hilda laughed, glad not to have offended anyone. Gastropé laughed as well.

Trisfelt just shook his head in amusement. “But why Natoor?” he asked.

Jenn looked around. “My room is just around the corner; let’s go there and discuss this in a bit more privacy.”

Animus and Mana Wielders[11]

∼

Hilda put down her glass of wine and reached for a piece of H’skallen cheese. They had gone back to Jenn’s room and decided that since they could not have dinner together, they should at least have a late lunch; that way Jenn and Gastropé could try some of the alvaren delicacies she’d gotten from the quartermaster’s pantry. She had to be able to back up her wedding cover story, and clearly anyone who knew Hilda would naturally have assumed she would have raided a few of the buffet tables at an alvaren wedding.

However, as enticing as the wine was, with this rather insane story of Jenn’s, she had to keep a grip. As it was, she was fighting a splitting headache from the stupid wards blanketing the city. When she and Trisfelt had entered the city, she had nearly fallen off her horse. She had to pretend to have nausea from some stale travel cake at breakfast. Not very convincing, but better than the truth. She had had to quickly work out a ritual to damp down the expulsion symptoms, so she could enter. Technically, the ward was supposed to have been for demons, but clearly, it was aimed at general extra-planar beings. Fortunately, being a saint, she had a mortal background and was not a pure spirit. An archon would have had a lot more trouble with the wards. They would need to keep that in mind if the Host needed to enter the city.

Once she was settled, she could come up with something better. The best thing would probably be to anoint an amulet with its own mana pool so she would not have to maintain the ritual herself. If she got seriously distracted, say fending off a wizard who had caught on to her, she wanted the expulsion repulsion, or whatever she was going to call it, to stay on. Otherwise, the wards would send her packing.

“So, let me see if I have this right,” Hilda tried to clarify. “Trevin thinks that one of the archdemons might actually be an old goddess named Bastet, from Natoor?”

“Exactly,” Gastropé confirmed rather tipsily. Hilda had to smile; these youngsters were so much easier to loosen up than Trisfelt. That man was a professional imbiber. She had needed a few divine tricks to keep her head about her last night and get him inebriated. It really would have been nice if she had been able to let go and truly enjoy the wine’s effects. However, she had had a job to do. Moreover, today, with her headache, she was more than happy to just do her job.