Bidding the maids farewell, Nimrod bounded out his gate and strode to the observatory. Spies of Baal sank into the shadows as he passed. He ignored them. Their master had more to fear from the Dragon Lord than he. Through force of will, Moloch, the Dragon Lord, ruled the Ziggurat with an iron fist. Not even the differential of the crossover between the worlds diminished his power. Meanwhile, his brothers dissipated their powers in endless intrigues.
Setting his foot upon the stairs to the observatory, he climbed. Without need of rest or repair, he fairly ran up the stairs. At the top was a wide deck of stone with a parapet of granite capped in marble. Small telescopes and astrolabes stood mounted around the circumference. Above it all stood a twelve-cubit telescope mounted on a set of gimbals held by two gargoyles carved in granite. In turn the gargoyles stood on a granite base which rested on steel balls rolling in a trough carved into the deck. Affixed to the gimbal system at its crest was a crystal ball. Through the ball his master commanded the scope to turn with the sky.
Bound forever in a blanket of clouds, Gehenna was one world where stars never lit the sky. No stars could be seen anywhere save below the eye of the eternal storm. He grinned at the irony, but of course these telescopes were not for seeking the light of ordinary stars.
Hermes and Chancellor Adrammelech waited for him. Adrammelech bowed.
“Greetings Master Hermes,” said Nimrod. He scowled at Adrammelech, and the worm cringed. “Am I late?”
“No my lord, but the optimum time of passage nears, and our master will soon call.”
“Then why do you wait on me, as a schoolmarm waits upon a boy?”
“Of course, I see you are ready, my lord. I wait simply to assist you, Master Nimrod.”
“Good worm, don’t let your eyes forget it.” The obsequious chancellor withered and backed away.
“And how goes it with Olympus, Master Hermes?”
The thin and pale ambassador of their sometimes ally and sometimes enemy, tipped his brow and unfurled his silvered wings. “Well indeed, Master Nimrod, Olympus bids you well in your journey and success in your venture. Once you have gone, I shall take my leave and report to Jupiter.”
“Adieu, fair prince, I shall not have time for parting ceremonies.” Cautiously, Nimrod dipped his brow, keeping his eye on the uncertain ally.
“Farewell, noble conqueror. May you bury your enemies in the bowels of the old world.” Pleased, Nimrod and Hermes exchanged a nod again, and set to wait upon the proper hour.
The Riders
“Remove the refreshments,” snarled the Dragon Lord. His Amazons sprang into action, and cleared away the remains of his meal.
While they worked, he basked in the fires burning around his throne. Choosing a leviathan as his own vessel was a stroke of genius. But the creature’s cold body required heat. Unwinding his serpentine bulk, he popped the knuckles in his claws.
“Bring my crystal ball.”
An Amazon sprang from her post. On her helm, a red mane identified her as the dwarf maiden serving as the leader this hour. She signaled to a companion, and together the Amazons scurried away to fetch the ball. The maidens returned carrying the heavy ball and set it before the dragon.
Carefully, the dwarves secured the ball on the podium. Bowing to the Dragon, they backed away from the throne.
Unwinding his tail, the Dragon rose from his throne and set the black pads of his foot paws on the pentagram’s lip. His claws scratched the marble, and he unfurled his wings. Thrusting his forepaws into the air, he chanted the incantations of power. A flaw within the crystal ball flickered. The ball glowed and the glow swelled. Firelight glinted off the Dragon’s scales.
A white fire pierced the ball’s center and washed out the ball’s red glow. The beam radiated around the throne room, and a ghost appeared riding a white stallion. Armored in leather and sandals, the stallion bore its rider on a hornless saddle without stirrups. The rider was armed with a spear resting in a cup slung from the horse’s harness, and a bronze sword hung from his belt.
The ghost bowed to the Dragon Lord without dismounting. The stallion dipped its head to him, and resumed its proud stance.
“My Lord,” said the ghost, “what is your pleasure?”
“Alert Nimrod to prepare for the cross over.”
“As you command, my lord,” and the ghost backed away from the Dragon, and the crystal ball swept him from the throne room. The fire within the ball died, and the flaw cooled to orange.