22. Dooch

Back in the orange-lit sitting room, Zorexis extended a key toward the magically protected door that led to Buzzard Keep. Short of insertion, his hand stopped, and he swiveled his head to eye the party. "Wait. There are only two keys. Brant, the human, had the only copy. He was supposed to give it to King Pharing of Omnius."

"Brant?" Ghomarck, Séa, and Tash said simultaneously.

"Was he tall, dark, and hairy?" Ghomarck said.

"Was he rich?" Tash said.

"Did he wear a scarf woven by the bare-beaver weaver?" Séa said.

"Erm, yes to all?" said the incubus faintly.

Tash grinned toothily. "He sort of ... lost his key. And we found it!"

Doubt chased across Zorexis's features. "You ... just found it." Tash's insincere grin was his only answer.

Séa schooled her features to be as blank as possible. Inside, mirth lit her like a festival fire. See, Tash? I can be deceptive. Especially if it's to foil a demon, or have a joke at his expense.

Reluctantly, Zorexis swiveled to face the lock and inserted the key. The disintegration field faded. He ignored the doorknob and slid a disguised bolt to one side.

Séa and Tash exchanged a glance. Séa narrowed her eyes and mouthed, "liar."

Tash stuck her tongue out.

Séa attempted to repress the smile that sprang to her lips, but her cheeks tightened anyway.

Ghomarck mused, "So the key was on its way to the King. Interesting. I presume that its method of use would have been explained by this Brant fellow. The purpose of this elaborate scheme was to bestir the King, then. Remarkable."

"And ominous," the paladin said, "given that demons wrote the script to it." They wanted the King to get the key, so the King could come get the princess. So they arranged the kidnapping and then they arranged a rescue. It's circular and ridiculous. Forget Vawl, this feels more like Giasleppi the Trickster's work. She'd impersonate Vawl in a heartbeat. But I don't think she'd work with demons. So, poof, my logic explodes into a cloud of smoke.

Zorexis pushed the door open and his voice hushed. "Dooch is a freak, even by demon standards, but he is under my command. Hopefully, he will listen to me and not flee screaming."

The door opened to a rougher, squarer chamber lit by magical orbs, diseased red in color. Crude iron brackets held the orbs, which cast a ghastly radiance over the room's shabby counters, shelves, and appliances. As a kitchen, it seemed dysfunctional. A stained meat cleaver hung on a nail. A large and dented stove dominated one wall, but its chimney led nowhere so that any fire built in it would fill the room with smoke. A few rusty pots and pans hung from a ceiling beam. On a blotch-covered counter, a dull brass urn squatted, and alien, greenish stains crept over its rim. Next to the dubious urn squatted a basin, presumably placed there to wash dishes. The basin brimmed with liquid. However, judging by the appearance and smell, the liquid was swamp water that teemed with algae, water bugs, and flatworms. Mossy spoons and chipped cups trailed from the basin across the filthy counter.

Chantelle's mouth dropped open. "No, way. This is disgusting. Not that we've had that much food and drink, but what we've had has been palatable. It couldn't have been cooked in this revolting place."

"I don't see anybody," Séa said.

"Dooch?" called Zorexis.

"Gross." The princess folded her arms sternly.

"Where is that toad?" Zorexis grumbled.

Séa and Tash wove around the central worktable, trying not to breathe in the putrescent funk of the algae pond. The far end of the room held two arched exits, both containing stony staircases. The left hand side descended, and the right hand stairs climbed.

"What's down here?" Tash said, pointing down the stairs.

The incubus glanced over. "A dead end. I doubt anyone is there. The up direction leads out, eventually. Most of the garrison of wights should be in the keep's yard and on its walls."

Séa closed her eyes. The cold shadow cast by Zorexis had a faint twin. "We are not alone," she said. She opened her eyes and scanned the room, but only the five of them moved.

"Dooch?" Zorexis said. "Are you hiding?"

The paladin raised her mace into the air. She swiveled left, then right, then left again, until the weapon pointed at the oven. "It lies there: something cold that consumes joy."

The incubus stalked toward the appliance, then yanked at the oven door. With a rusty screech, it opened outwards. The oven was filled with a gray-green mass. Grudgingly, details resolved it into something recognizably humanoid. Warty hands wrapped knobbly knees. To the right of the knees lolled a sideways head whose gash of a mouth drooled sluggish spittle. An upturned nose seemed a compromise between frog and pig. Two eyes, closed tight, sat high on the head and far from each other. The bulging orbs added to the overall amphibious impression. Zorexis's term "toad" suddenly seemed apt.

"Wake up." The incubus poked the bilious object.

"Don't want to." Its voice resembled the squeak of stretched leather.

Zorexis affected exaggerated patience. "Dooch, this is no time for games. Get out of there."

"I thought demons didn't sleep," Tash said.

"A woman?" squeaked Dooch.

"They can. They just don't need to," Séa said.

"Two women?" His eyes popped open to behold the cool, dubious regard of Tash and Séa.

And Chantelle. The creature's green-veined eyes bulged wide. "Three women? By the planelord's pointy pecker, Zorexis, you are insatiable. Ooo, one of 'em's half elf. Very sexy."

Zorexis lowered his voice. He had not previously exhibited such a chill, commanding tone, and Séa's eyes narrowed in speculation. "Dooch," he said, "get out of the oven."

The demon emerged like a large, ugly insect squeezing out of its cocoon. He unfolded long legs that ended in webbed feet, then squeezed a round body through the oven opening. His head sat neckless upon his torso. His lengthy, big-lipped mouth seemed permanently sculpted into a conniving leer. Once he had stood, his roughspun, stained tunic hugged his belly, then dangled. His stalk legs and shortened torso gave him a dandelion's puff-on-a-stem aspect.

The odd creature accompanied his blinks with convulsive swallows. He blink-swallowed as he caught sight of Ghomarck. He screeched, "What is that thing? Zorexis, I take it back. You've lost it. Completely."

The incubus ground his teeth. "Dooch, do not try my patience. There has been a change of plan, and you are going to assist."

"Oh, yes, master. I will assist." His wide smile stretched to insanely-mirthful proportions. "Let me guess. The orgy is incomplete? You need help licking and dicking all these virginal orifices?"

Chantelle's expression of disgust transformed to one of horror.

Séa treated the spike of vulgarity like she would handle a jolt of pain. As Friar Obel taught, nerve endings are easily panicked. Trust not their yammering and listen to the slow roll of truth beneath. In flat tones, Séa conveyed some truth the creature should be aware of. "Demon, please note that, should it come to blows, you'd be down and out in a hot second." She picked a section of wall by the up-stairs exit and leaned on it casually. She spun her mace from time to time.

Tash sauntered to near the door, where she could see both stair-exits. Surreptitiously, she slid her bow from her back and into her hand.

Dooch's green-veined eyes watched the agile mace. His mouth contracted to a silent line of untalkativeness.

Zorexis said, "Good, Dooch. Less talk, more listen: that's what we want from you. We're looking for a good way out of here. We've had a few ideas. One is, can your kitchen magic be made to pulverize rock?"

The toad-like demon blink-swallowed several times in succession. "How much rock? I can alter a fistful of it, maybe."

"So little? A pity," Zorexis said. "Well, can you steal us some sets of wight armor?"

Dooch emitted a keening wail of fear. "What, off of the wights? They'd cut me in two. Very protective of their personal space, they are."

The incubus paced and gestured. "Is there some armory or storeroom?"

"There are stored missiles for the siege engines, master. No armor that I know of."

"Balor balls," Zorexis said. His brow furrowed as he paced more, apparently at a loss.

The princess stirred. "How could our food have been so tasty? How was it done?"

"Oh, pretty human lady, so fine." Dooch leered at the woman. "You enjoyed Dooch's cooking? I won't reveal every secret, but it's transformation magic, it is. Dooch's specialty. Water becomes wine. Rat meat becomes veal. Barley gruel becomes a delicately spiced tomato bisque garnished with minced parsley."

She paled. Her hands flew to her stomach.

Séa's forehead wrinkled, then cleared. "Demon, can you transform rusted iron back into iron?"

Dooch drew himself as tall as his spindly legs could stretch. "I, lady of potent threats, am an artist. I might do such a thing, but it doesn't sound very challenging."

Zorexis spun to gaze at Séa. "Ingenious idea."

"If it works," she replied.She raised her mace and sighted along it, pointing it between Dooch's eyes. "So,you'd better perform, demon."

"Breastplate first, then helm." Séa tracked the toad-like demon with narrowed eyes. Wizardry doesn't thrill me nearly so much when it's the other side's.

Dooch flap-footed his way to the pile of armor by the bed and planted knobby fists on his not-waist. The purple lighting in the bedroom added blotchiness to his mottled skin. "I see, I see," he rasped. He poked a knobby finger at a pauldron. "Even before the damage, it was plain as a warty virgin, wasn't it?"

The paladin clenched her teeth and twirled her mace. "Just un-rust it, demon."

"Yeah, yeah, keep your knickers on." He swiveled his overlarge eyes to Séa's gambeson. "Or shapeless brown bag-thing, as the case may be."

Séa padded to Tash, who loitered at the nearby wall. Together, they monitored the vaguely amphibian yotch.

The paladin bottled up her clarion voice to huskily whisper, "I wish I could just kill it."

The rogue raised a half-elven eyebrow. "This new bloodthirsty side of you – I think I like it." She smirked.

Séa wrenched her gaze from Tash's appealing eyebrow arch and murmured, "It's not bloodlust. It's more like the urge to clean house."

"Fine, but don't pretend you wouldn't enjoy splattering its brains all over."

The paladin blinked, then pursed her lips. "You read me well, somehow."

"That's because you're an open book."

Dooch rubbed his flat chin as he contemplated the rusted breastplate.

Ghomarck and the lovers had remained in the sitting room. Séa glanced down the connecting passage, then cupped Tash's elbow and leaned close. "Master Ghomarck looks exhausted. If we're really going to fight our way out, we should camp and let him sleep and review his spellbook."

"Maybe," Tash said. "Or maybe the chef's absence will be noticed, and his kitchen will fill with wights seeking revenge."

"Socket! That's a chilling thought. It could happen."

Tash wrinkled her brow at Séa. "Socket?"

"Eh? Oh, that's short for 'By Torugg's empty socket,' meaning where his eye used to be." The paladin inclined her head and gazed imploringly at the rogue. "So which course is more likely to succeed? Wait and rest or charge ahead?"

"It's up to luck."

"This luck thing again." Séa clamped her teeth shut and felt her jaw muscles ripple. Her eyebrows squeezed together.

The ominous facial expression affected Tash not at all. She plucked a book from a shelf and riffled through it. Each parchment page was blank. "Yeah. Luck. So do what you want. Personally, I'd let the wizard rest at least a few minutes while I sneak out to scout the area. Downstairs as well as up. Each meager scrap of information we can get might tip the balance."

Scout the area? That sounds fun. "You? Alone? I can come with you, right?"

"No. Who's going to police the demons if Ghomarck is asleep?"

Séa's mouth shut with a click. Next moment, her vexed expression brightened. "Let's get Zorexis's copy of the magic key and lock both doors. Lock 'em in here. He'll squawk, but what's he going to do? If he refuses, I'll introduce his handsome head to my mace."

"Good one, Séa." The rogue rested contemplative brown eyes on the sturdy knight. "You're full of decent ideas lately." As Séa beamed at the praise, Tash scowled. "Don't take that wrong. Even if you have a brain, you're still philosophically deranged."

Séa's lips twitched at the corners, until an upwelling smile and accompanying snicker of amusement burst through.

Tash joined in the mirth with a sardonic snort.

"Ahem." The pair jerked their heads to the side to stare at Dooch. He stood duck-footed beside a shiny breastplate. For a moment, Séa failed to recognized it as hers. It lacked dents and instead had become glossy. Furthermore, it was embossed with decorative filigree. The demon shattered the moment of wonder with a screech. "Who's your deity, then, bag lady?"

"Whoa," said the paladin. "That's great work. I mean, my deity is Torugg one-eye. Why?"

"The hammer one. Right. I should have guessed from the amateurish lump of shit around your neck."

Séa raised a hand to protectively cover the pewter amulet that hung from her neck. Extra water welled in her eyes. Come on, Séa, it's just an insult. From a demon, no less. By Torugg's steady hand, I will endure. I must endure.

The paladin caught Tash examining her face. Her brown eyes seemed soft, deep, and knowing. In contrast, her voice sliced like a razor. "Cut the chit-chat, Dooch."

Dooch cringed as one well-practiced in the arts of subservience. "Very well, beautiful half-elf. I will draw a hammer, now, eh? Yes, yes I will." The top-heavy demon pawed with knob-knuckled hands at the center of the armor piece as if kneading dough. When his hands slid away, a beveled shield and hammer symbol graced the plate mail.

"Is it real?" breathed Séa.

"Betcha it's just illusion," Tash said.

A roll of skin underneath Dooch's wide chin inflated, and he hissed in outrage. "It is no illusion! It's master-level alteration. Your precious Ghomarck is as the lowliest of apprentices compared to me!"

"As long as it will stop an arrow," Séa said.

"Of course it will! It's improved! It's not magical, no, but it's vastly better than it was before the rust. It's harder. It's lighter in weight." The toad shimmied his warty hands. "It's stylish."

Séa could only nod her head in agreement. "It looks fabulous."

The toad deflated and laid his knobby hand on his chest. "Thank you." His mouth snapped wide into a grin. "So how about a little gratitude sex? We have time."

Tash dissolved into a fit of hyperventilation, or paroxysms of disgust, or, perish the thought, suppressed laughter.

Don't give the little pervert the satisfaction of a reaction, Séa. She kept her voice flat. "I'll pass. But what can you tell us about Zorexis and the big plan? Is the idea to get the king of Omnius here and then kill him or something?"

Dooch ticked a long finger from side to side, then mirrored the motion with his head. "I'm a minion. I do what I'm told. And if I knew more than I should it would be death to admit it. But I don't. So don't ask." His eyes rolled to the passage that led to the sitting-room. After confirming its emptiness, he eyed the women and whispered, "Are you really bossing Zorexis right now?"

Séa uttered a quiet, "Guess so," but it was overridden by Tash's enthusiastic, "Absolutely and totally, Dooch."

The long-legged demon maintained a barely audible volume. "Fair enough, but beware. You won't be for long. He's got more tricks than Bandibandi and Giasleppi combined." He straightened up and screeched, "On to the helmet!"

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