Did the reputed champion of Balance actually desire masteiy of all the Abyss? No matter; his possession of the two Theorparts, combined with the other terrible powers he and his associates bore, were sufficient threat to silly the demon masters against them. Was the man actually an agent of Tharizdun? That seemed possible, too, but the answer made no difference to any of the demons concerned. It was sufficient to know that he was an enemy! After the initial truce on the field from which Zuggtmoy, Iuz, and Iggwilv had fled, whence Orcus had likewise run in panic and then returned with furious determination, where Graz'zt had himself made common cause with his forever-foes, the demons went to the ebon demonking's domain to hold their council.
As noted, this was days later, as men measured time. Graz'zt and others of the great demons wondered how it passed that they were given so long a period to meet, organize, and formulate defenses. The three interlopers possessed sufficient force to have confronted the wielder of the third Theorpart and taken it, even though Graz'zt had the support of the Eye of Deception, his hordes, the Abat-dolor warriors, even the assistance of Orcus and the others of his foes now came over to his side. Each day, however, granted the demons a slightly improved chance to resist, a greater possibility of actually turning the tables and taking the two relics from the man who had them. Why did he hesitate? The question was asked and asked again. No answer came, but even demons don't decry fortune.
"You have the Unbinder, Graz'zt. You must lead us." That came from the three other demon monarchs there, voiced by Orcus as their spokesdemon. "I will be at your right, of course, because of my own relic," he added, displaying the Rod of Unlife with which he ruled the demons of air. "Marduk and his Firefan are with me, as are Demogorgon and his Venomfountain, so the demons of fire and water are at your right hand too."
After Marduk and Demogorgon voiced their agreement with the statement, Orcus stepped back, and Graz'zt announced that his reinstated consort, Elazalag, would stand on the left, bearing the Eye of Deception. There she would command the host of demonlords and a score of minor objects of power that those great demons possessed. If a fraction of the demonic objects of power — Zuggtmoy's Cauldron, to name one — were not there, then nothing could be done now. The power of all these minor objects combined was no match for what the enemy would bring, but a million and more demon warriors counted for something. At some point, sheer weight of numbers would perhaps come into play. In such event, the masters of demonium would unquestionably hold the upper hand.
"The humans can perhaps gather a few thousand of the beasts, a hundred of the brutes, but that is insufficient," the six-fingered demonking cried with hatred. "Our force will crush them in open battle."
"If we must go to them. Graz'zt." Princess Elazalag said, "then your estimates are wrong. We will never manage to march all of our force to where they lurk in the depths, and in time this alliance will begin to crumble."
"If we go to them." Orcus said, "they will be at a great advantage, for the powers they command can maintain the calling of endless streams of the mindless things inhabiting those tiers, and our relics are less potent in the sinks as well."
Suddenly a dark, amorphous shape coalesced in the very midst of the assembly of terrible demons. Then allow me to Join you and assist," it said in a voice as heavy as a mountain, as slow and final as extinction. "For I have the power to force the enemy to come to you."
* * *
For too long a time Gord and Gellor had remained in the depths of demonium. It was not by the bard's choice that they did so. Gellor asked, then urged, and finally pleaded. His words fell upon seemingly unhealing ears, for his comrade made no response. Gord spoke often and with emotion, but not about their leaving the place. It was a nightmare wilderness, a place as agitated and ugly as a worldly retreat might be serene and beautiful in its lonely uninhabitation. Yet the champion remained there, meditating, scrying, and seemingly taken by alternating fits of depression and reflective musing expressed in long, mournful soliloquies.
"The toll is endless. First my parents, poor Leena, all of my old comrades and associates — Dohojar, Barrel, Timmil, Allton, Chert, dear old Curley Greenleaf. No friend, no love, no one can survive once exposed to me."
"I survive!" the troubador said firmly in rejection. "I am here with you now. We have to go on, and we must hurry! No war is won without casualties, Gord. We have always been fighting that war, aware of it or not. The whole struggle now rests with us. The victory is in your hands."
"Victory?" At that, Gord seemed to shrink into himself. "No guarantee of a win, none at all. All that is said is that a champion will face Tharizdun as the only hope of keeping the cosmos free of an unending night of evil. You and I are doomed, I think, either way. Now Leda is gone. She is lost forever. ..."
"Why say that? Come on, man! Where is your courage?"
"Died with the rest," was the self-pitying, lethargic reply. "You know the hopelessness of it all. I have used all of the energies of the Theorparts and Courflamme. No trace, no trace. She is passed into realms beyond any ken of such power as that. . . just like Basiliv. Who will be next?"
Gellor shook his young friend by the shoulder. "See? Think on what you just said. It is the clue we needed. The enemy responsible for the loss of the Demiurge is the very same who has managed to cany off Leda. All we need—"
"All? You know that there is no hope of Basiliv's return. He is gone — gone forever, do you hear?" The words were filled with cold despair. "If he fell to the same one responsible for Leda's taking, what matter then? It only means that she is lost as surely."
"And what if Tharizdun is the agency? What if the benighted one has somehow managed to inflict such things upon us? Do you surrender before the fight even commences?"
Gord slumped into silence for long minutes, but Gellor remained, waiting. "Yes ... no ... I cannot say. All courses now seem useless. It does not matter if I Join the three portions now, for I have no desire to remain alive."
"There is the small matter of the rest of the multiverse," Gellor supplied with burning sarcasm.
He might as well have been speaking to a stump, for the young champion seemed not to hear. Gord lapsed into another of his silences and remained thus for what seemed to Gellor an endless period. Then, without appearing to notice that his comrade was waiting expectantly near, Gord rose and wandered off. Gellor got up to follow, but at that the gray-eyed man turned and spoke. "I need to be by myself. Stay where you are."
"This is stupid, Gord! DIvide our force in this place of horrors? That is insanity! I should be there to watch, seeing as how you are—"
"I am moved by a purpose now, Gellor. Mind your own ass while I'm gone. Stay on guard, and stay put," he admonished. There was a ring in Gord's voice that belied the hopelessness that had previously seemed to pervade the young champion's soul. "I will return to you as soon as possible, and be ready. I think I have come up with something which might explain all of this."
Gellor was at a loss, but he did as his friend ordered. Short time or long, there was nothing else to do but await Gord's return.
* * *
The Lord of Entropy was keenly aware of what had transpired in the depths of demonium. It was he who had subtly influenced the young champion of Balance — beginning with his removal of the stunned Leda from the grotto of Zuggtmoy. Then Entropy insinuated the lethargy, covering Gord with it as night steals after the fading illumination of a long summer twilight.
All the skeins of Entropy's terrible plan were now nearly woven into the tapestry of his designing. The spinning had taken long, but time was one thing he had. Time worked in Entropy's favor. The many conflicts and destruction, death and decay too, each and all were in the fabric. Tharizdun must arise, but only after the whole of his new domain was in shambles. The Ultimate Evil would have a short reign thereafter, as the last energies of the multiverse dwindled and stasis slowly came. In a few eons, then, only Entropy would remain, as master of a cold, lightless nothingness. That was all he desired, for he was, after all, Entropy.
First aiding one faction, then another, the Lord of Stasis had worn all of them down and hastened the day of the coming of his victory. All the while, those who denied his victory thought they were succeeding in their own plans. They were wrong, quite mistaken indeed, but that was all part of the weaving Entropy labored over.
In the final analysis, there was no doubt that Tharizdun was a desirable tool. After all, such evil was destructive in the extreme. The negative forces, death, despair, and destruction that arose with the greatest of the malign could only hasten the triumphal coronation of the last ruler of the multiverse. Evil would spread over all, and behind that shroud would stalk the Lord of inertia, Master of Devolution, and not even Tharizdun would realize that the crowning achievement of Evil was but a brief glory leading to its own ashen nothingness. Entropy would inevitably come into his cosmic realm, but by working thus, acting counter to his own definitions, he had brought the event forward by a billion years at least. Deep inside itself, Entropy felt a slow stirring of content, then allowed it to die.
"Yes," the being said slowly. "I have that which will cause your foe to come to you. He will be fought where you choose, and the attack will be weakened by his own emotions."
"Who speaks thus?"
"What are you?"
"Kill the spy!"
Those shouts and more came from the mass of demonic nobles gathered, but they meant nothing to Entropy. None there could harm him. Nothing could. Without bothering to reply. Entropy caused Leda to appear from where he had kept her in his secret realm. "This little dark elf is the thing most dear to the one who serves Balance as champion — Gord, the wielder of the two Theorparts you would have."
Vuron whispered to Graz'zt. "That being before us — he is one I know of! He is Lord Entropy, enemy of all. . . all! Trust him never!"
Graz'zt accepted the identification but ignored the rest. "You are Entropy," the ebon demonking said, meaning to establish his power before the being and enhance his status with the lords of the Abyss at the same time. "We will listen to you."
The one of inertia knew what the demonking desired, and it made no difference to Entropy at all. The demons must gain the three portions of the ageless relic soon now, it thought. Then would Tharizdun come and war with demonium, hastening stillness. Chaos itself must end as the last step in the final calm of absolute sameness. "That is most wise. King of Demons," Entropy said. The title bestowed would help to hasten things, too. Each word and deed employed was meant to hasten the coming of Entropy's endless rule. "You and your subjects must now attend my instructions."
The being spoke, and the demons did indeed pay close attention to the ponderous statements that Entropy voiced. All efforts, all energies, all defense and attack were to be directed in but a single focus. The female drow, Leda, was to be the central point. Graz'zt was to direct the aim of the Unbinder upon her. Elazalag would use her potent Eye of Deception. So too would all the other lesser relics and artifacts of dweomer and demonic force be brought into play. The demons' foes could defeat them, would indeed do so, unless this strategy was adhered to. By the simple device of offering Leda in exchange for the two Theorparts Gord possessed, Graz'zt could succeed in winning. Otherwise, the confrontation between him and the massed demons would lead only to their defeat and the loss of Unbinder, thus uniting all three Theorparts in the small man's hand.
"He is not such a stupid fool as to allow a mere female to alter his plan for our undoing," Graz'zt heard his newly restored consort rejoin. "We will be slaughtered as a herd of lambs, without so much as the threat of a puppy to oppose the wolf."
"The single portion of the artifact you are armed with, it and all the rest of your weapons, are but rubbish before the broom of might which that oncethief and his associate bring against you. No demon can come near enough to do harm whilst the troubador renders destruction from the instrument he plays so well. The champion's sword is proof against your weapons, his twin Theorparts sufficient to devastate all the rest. If you do not follow my direction, you are doomed," Entropy pronounced. Despite the emotionless, plodding words, even the wildest of the demonlords paid heed.
"How do we accomplish this?" asked Elazalag, convinced of the dire nature of their position but uncertain of the tactic proposed.
"It is so simple as to escape any mind save my own," Entropy droned with just a touch of self-satisfaction. "He will not trust you. Even the love which moves the champion doesn't make him so stupid as that. Graz'zt will offer the exchange as follows: The priestess called Leda will be held fast by magical bonds in a large, neutral space. The one called Gord will go to her. Seeing that she is well and not some image or duplicate, he will place his pair of relics where the dark elf was held. The force of them will prevent operation of your own objects."
"What is to prevent the little scum from taking her without leaving behind the Theorparts?" Graz'zt demanded.
"And how will he know that we won't slay him and the drow as soon as we get the two?" Elazalag chimed in.
Entropy deepened, and the demons quieted as their vitality felt the creeping of the great entity's anger. "It is child's play to set up a triggering which would bring destruction to the dark elf should the Theorparts and the drow be in proximity for more than a brief interval. As to the possibility of your treachery, Elazalag, the man has no remedy save his sword. I have examined his makeup, seen Gord's aura long and carefully. That one will trust the weapon and his own guile and craft. He will allow the exchange, believing that he will somehow wrest the three portions from you once again after he has Leda safe."
Vuron asked a simple question at that. "Could he manage such a feat?"
Graz'zt was silenced before he could snarl at his steward for daring to speak thus. "Yes," Entropy said simply, "but only if the parts were left as separate devices in the hands of indIvidual demons. "You, Graz'zt, have one, so it will be incumbent upon you to meld the three into one engine."
"That is as I had planned," Graz'zt cried with arrogant agreement. "It is as it shall be!"
"But then the darkest will be"