The next day I went to work on the windmill. The commute, like most commutes, felt like time wasted, but there were things I could do myself much easier than I could explain. I sped work there significantly, both through my own skills, but also because only I could effectively use the zombies. They could understand very simple directions, like “go to the windmill” or “pick up a brick and hand it to this troll every time your hand is empty.” But they couldn’t manage “Go to the windmill, find a troll, pick up a brick, and hand it to him every time your hand is empty.” Two steps was pretty much their max, and besides, “find a troll” would probably have several of them all trying to hand a brick to the same troll.

They are also pretty good at “go to a place, and kill everything that moves.” Try it out.

In any case, only I could hook up the generator that would turn the rotating gears of the windmill into electricity, and the zombies were needed to carry it. I’d bought several others, because I intended to build more windmills if this one worked well. It was close to being operational.

Building windmills was much more satisfying than tilting at them.

I had Gruush and Gregor watch me do the hookup, so that they could do everything I could do, but I knew I’d probably do it myself every time if I could. It brought home how dependent on me everything I’d built was. Sure, if something happened to me I’d leave behind a lot of power tools. But if something happened to the generator, I was probably the only person who had a chance of figuring out how to repair it, especially once the internet was gone. Kathy and Jill had plenty of Earth-knowledge, of course, and Jill could run circles around me with a computer, but they weren’t especially handy in that way.

I was the only person who could train others to do what I did. The only person who the zombies obeyed. And hey, Queen of Abbyland. I could not be everywhere at once, and that meant that things were going to be left undone. And I couldn’t keep up the pace I’d been going at.

I barely pedaled the whole way home, even though I knew that without me putting the work in, I was using up electricity that was soon going to be in short supply. I was simply too exhausted. I had cast Endurance so many times the last few days it was starting to have diminishing returns.

I suppose I could have had the zombies carry me, but ugh. Gross.

The moment I got back, Bapho jumped up and saluted me. “Uber Archfiend!”

I dismounted and looked at him through half-lidded eyes. He didn’t usually do this, although it didn’t seem totally out of character. “Bapho. Janet. Dr. Scott.”

“Huh?”

“Nevermind. I’m tired. What’s up?”

“One of my soldiers, Garazazeltarrasque, has gone absent, Ma’am. I take full responsibility. We have searched, and we believe he left on his own initiative, and fled up the path toward Tartarus.”

Which was the path that led to the orc village. “So, he ran away?”

“It would appear so. He was sympathetic to the Ritual faction, and may have fled back to Tartarus to inform the faction’s leaders of circumstances here. Or he could just be planning to sell the power tools he escaped with. Lady Kathy tells me that there’s a drill and a chainsaw missing.”

“Well, we should radio the orc village, and see if they can stop him when he goes through.”

 “I believe Lady Kathy did that.”

I smiled slightly at “Lady Kathy,” even though smiling took energy. “And where is Kathy now?”

Kendala ran over. “Abby!” she said.

“Uh, hi Kendala.” I felt about as dominant as a wet noodle right then.

“Why don’t you lie down in one of the chairs. You need Kathy? I’ll get her for you. You look exhausted. I’ll bring you something to eat and a drink, too. Just let me take care of you, please.”

“Mmm,” I said, and let her help me to the chair. I could walk on my own, I just didn’t want to.

I didn’t quite nod off in the few seconds it took for Kendala to return with Kathy.

“I flew over to the village, after I radioed,” Kathy told me, while Kendala arranged a plate of chips and salsa next to me.

“Any luck?”

“I didn’t spot him. And Zargaza had twenty orcs looking for him, and no luck. Gren followed on a bike, and a few moments ago she radioed to say that she found tracks that indicated that he skirted the village, and took off East, toward Tartarus. She wants to know if she should follow, but she says the tracks are faint and she doesn’t have a lot of hope.”

Gren was the best tracker we had. And she’d been working as hard as I was. I didn’t want her getting into a fight in her current condition, especially with a two-hundred-sixty pound four-armed demon with a chain saw. “No. Tell her to come back home, but not to rush. No, better. Tell her to get a good night’s sleep with Inka.”

“Oooh,” said Kendala. “Inka will like that.”

“I didn’t mean –”

Kendala giggled. “Whether you meant it or not, you know it’s going to happen. What would you like to drink?”

“An old fashioned,” I said.

“Coming right up.”

“You know how to make an old fashioned?”

“Gren showed me how to look stuff up. I’ll figure it out.”

I smiled. “I think it would probably be better for me just to have a coke. No, probably shouldn’t have caffeine either. Water. With plenty of ice.”

“Yes, boss.”

I looked around. At the picnic table, Meta and Tysiel were arguing about something. Neither of them had pitched in with the work, so they had plenty of energy. Valeria was not far away, but her head was on the table and I suspected she’d fallen asleep.

We needed to slow our roll so we could deal with trouble, because things never happened according to plan for long. I hadn’t told everyone to work this hard. I just worked hard myself, and they didn’t want to let me down. But I had magical help, so they couldn’t be expected to keep up. I looked at Kathy, and her eyelids were drooping. And even Kendala, eager to serve, lacked a spring in her step.

A good leader would have told them to slow down a long time ago. They’d probably worked extra hard that day because of the lack of zombie power.

“Bapho,” I said.

“Yes, your uberness! What punishment would you like to inflict on me?”

“For?”

“For letting one of my men desert their post.”

“I’ll think about that,” I said, with no intention of thinking about it. “What I want to know is how fast could Azzy get to Tartarus? Or, let’s assume that there was someone waiting for him somewhere, and that they had relays. That’s the worst case. How fast could information get to Tartarus? Assume any known magical means.”

“Well, if he had a magic carpet waiting for him, he could probably get there in a few hours. They are very rare, but I believe Prince Voragafenester, of the Ritual Faction, has one, so it’s not impossible.”

He was on foot until he got past the orc village, so I could add that to the few hours. But still. And if the Ritual Faction decided to act on it, it would take them a few days. Unless …

“How many people does a magic carpet hold?”

“I don’t know, your Uberness. Metataonefu—”

I cut him off. I didn’t have time for their long names, or energy to listen to them. “Meta?” I called.

Meta said something to Tysiel, and hurried over, undoing a pin holding her shirt together. When she got to me she bowed low, giving me a view. “My Uber Archfiend,” she said.

“You know, you don’t have to show me cleavage every time,” I said.

“But you like boobs. Everyone agrees. And as your loyal subject –”

“No, Meta. It’s entirely optional. It’s up to you, and your preferences, what you do with your own body.” I realized all that took longer than letting them use their full names. “Do you know anything about magic carpets?”

“It’s not my field, but yes.”

“How many people can they hold? In particular, how many people does Prince Voragawhatever’s carpet hold, if you know of it. But also in general.”

“Two, at the most. People have tried making larger ones, but it becomes exponentially more difficult.”

“And how many magic carpets could one get together, if one wanted to move an army that way?”

She shook her head. “There are perhaps half a dozen in existence, and even the Archfiend would have trouble collecting them all in one place.”

I nodded. “Thank you, Meta. What do you know about the Ritual Faction?”

Meta shrugged. “One runs into them occasionally, of course. They advocate increased sacrifices to the dark gods as a way of generating magical power. Archfiend Urielashamash curtailed the sacrifices drastically a century ago, and the current Archfiend has maintained that policy. Nowadays we only sacrifice hardened criminals.”

“And in the past? Or if the Ritual Faction had its way?”

She waved her hand. “The lesser races.”

“Such as?”

“Oh, you know. Elves, Trolls, Orcs, Humans, that sort of thing.” She looked over at Tysiel. “If you’re thinking of doing some sacrificing, I have a suggestion of where to start.”

“You’d miss him. He’s the only person who can argue with you intelligently.”

“If you call that intelligent.” She shrugged. “Sacrifices are horribly inefficient at converting life force to magic. It’s really more about tradition than anything else, although they’ll claim otherwise. Some people just don’t like change.”

“Surely it brought Tartarus into conflict with your neighbors?”

“That’s some of the change some people don’t like,” Meta said. “Not everyone has as enlightened a view of the lesser races as I do.”

Right. “Is there any other way someone could get a force capable of threatening us here in a hurry?”

“A gate, obviously. If Tysiel built a gate here, there could probably be a thousand elves on us very quickly.”

I stared at her, and she met my gaze. Unspoken was that if Meta built a gate, there could be a thousand demons.

But if Meta built a gate somewhere, there would be no reason for anyone to flee on foot. They could just pop through the gate – if they were working together.

Did Azzy know about the gate? I hadn’t shown it to any of the guard demons, but they could easily have overheard one of Meta’s frequent arguments with Tysiel. “Anything other than a gate?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Not that I know of.”

Well, we had a little time, anyway. But if people in Tartarus knew about our gate, and wanted to exploit it, we might not have much. Rushing would mean working even harder, although I thought that Jill said the last truck was going to arrive in two days. We should be able to get everything unloaded, and then close the gate behind us, before any demons could get here.

There were too many ifs, and possibly I was borrowing trouble. I didn’t want to close the gate at all. But the more people – demons, elves, whatever – knew about it, the more danger it presented. A few demons suddenly popping into Earth wouldn’t present much danger to the City of Rockville, but it would attract attention that could bring a lot of trouble to Amaranth.

“My punishment, Uber Archfiend?” Bapho asked.

“I’ll sleep on it.”

I closed my eyes. I was aware of being picked up and carried at some point, and being brought inside by someone with strong arms and soft green breasts.