ancient phrases that would virtually transport her to the Grove’s own similar chamber. She closed her eyes as she felt herself sink deeper into the bedrock, becoming one with it. Concentrating on the Grove’s version of the throne, she worked to juxtapose her current Freehold self with a simulacrum of herself in the Grove’s throne.
Trevin heard the gasp of the gnome on duty to monitor the throne chamber in the Grove. She opened her imaginary eyes in the dark chamber. Being one with the rock, she could sense the presence of the gnome, although she could not see him in the dark. She was actually rather surprised she had made it through the wards. However, she had been fairly sure this form of sympathetic geomancy was not something Lenamare would have ever considered.
“Monitor, it is I, Trevin D’Vils. Is Elraith awake?” Trevin asked. The deep bass of her stone simulacrum surprised even her. She had not used this method in several centuries.
“Mistress, he meditates,” the gnome replied.
“We must wake him,” Trevin said.
“Very well. This may take some time.”
One pleasant thing about being stone was that time passed quite quickly comparatively, Trevin reflected. She had no idea how long it was before the very old, formerly human Senior Elder of the Grove arrived in the chamber.
“My dear. So sorry to keep you waiting,” the ancient druid said.
“Not a problem, love,” Trevin told him. She could sense no other presence in the chamber; he was alone and they were in private, as she needed.
“So what brings you to use this rather drastic form of communication?” Elraith asked curiously.
“And wake you from your meditation?” Trevin asked with a smile.
“I was not going to mention that, but since you brought it up… I am going to sit down; it takes me a while to recover from being so deep.” He sat down on a ledge facing her stone throne and simulacrum.
“We have had exceedingly portentous events, the details of which will have to be revealed to the Council of Elders. But I needed to speak with you first, in private,” Trevin said.
“Go ahead,” Elraith said, listening intently.
“First, Freehold is surrounded by both the Rod and the Sky Fleet of Oorstemoth.”
“That is an issue, but I think the Council of Wizardry can handle that.”
“We are,” Trevin said, “but we also discovered that the city was overrun with about a thousand lesser demons and two or more archdemons, something else and someone else.”
She could sense Elraith nodding. “Now things are seeming a bit more interesting.”
“We expelled the demons, but in so doing revealed the identities of what we thought were three archdemons.” She sensed a raised eyebrow. “I believe one of the beings we had thought was an archdemon is actually Bastet of the Nyjyr Ennead.”
She could sense Elraith pausing on that point. “That would be quite interesting. Why would she be posing as an archdemon? I did not even realize she was anywhere near the localverse.” Elraith shook his head. “And the others?”
“The second archdemon is Ramses the Damned, formerly of the Time Warriors; the third, our neighbor Exador,” Trevin said.
“Exador, son of Exador, etcetera. That actually makes quite a bit of sense, and helps explain Abancia.” Elraith shook his head. “I still regret not doing more then. They were next door, so to speak.”
He paused. “Ramses the Damned, also a demon. Never liked any of the Ramses. I can assume they were all the same, like the Exadors?”
Trevin shrugged. “At the moment, you know what I know. But that would be likely.”
“He is a threat to us. The Anilords were a threat to us, and the various Ramses were particularly annoying,” Elraith noted.
“Well, it gets more complicated yet. And I still have not gotten to the point that concerns me the most, and I am sure will concern you,” Trevin said. It was exhausting to talk this way. Stone was not the best method for rapid
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