“Oy, clowns, sends the biggies talks ups heres,” Roger said.
A long, knobby fingered arm appeared by the window. Hilario handed the bullhorn over.
Hilario stretched his head out a little farther and craned his neck up. Lord Igidbon was standing. The dark lord’s hands were down the front of his pants. He wiggled his hips suggestively.
What the…?
The bullhorn crackled. Roger’s voice boomed out over the crowd of Orkes.
“Okays, His darks lordsness is’s feelings the randies. Who’ses firsts?”
The line of orkes parted with surprising swiftness.
Hilario put the van in gear and pulled forward at a sedate pace. Even though he really wanted to stomp the gas pedal and put the orkes behind them. He didn’t because there were even more orkes and ogres in front of them.
They continued to part, though, as Roger expounded on the aroused state of Lord Igidbon’s lustfulness. From the thumping on the the roof, Larry seemed to be put Igidbon’s corpse through some sort of dance.
It was probably for the best that he couldn’t see it.
The stinking bonfires threw acrid smoke into the air. It was hard to see very far ahead. Now that they were down on the plain, he couldn’t see the pulse of the Eye of Malachi tower. He was pretty sure he was on the right path there, though. All the orkes and ogres and wolf goblins and such seemed to be moving in the same general direction.
“This is a very good plan, noble clown,” Odom said, “It seems to be going well.”
The paladin was stretched out nearly the entire length of the van, with his head wedged up against the engine cover.
Laid out beside him, Detective Marco snorted. “Yeah, fuckin’ great. Get right in the middle of the bad guys so they can really kill us.”
“Silence,” the Sapphire Witch said, “There is no other way.”
He glanced at the rearview mirror, but couldn’t see her. She was somewhere back there. Lying on the floor in as dignified manner as she could manage.
No other way.
Well, actually there were other ways. Like she could have used her powers to fly them the heck over all these troops. Or she and Rachel could have combined their powers to cloak the van.
But, no, they needed the element of surprise, apparently. Didn’t want the dark lords to get all wise to them before the big moment.
Assuming they made it there alive.
Assuming the spectacle of Lord Igidbon’s corpse gyrating suggestively atop an alien vehicle wasn’t enough to generate suspicion when someone smarter than an orke spotted them.
Honestly, this was a terrible plan. It was only because no one else stepped up with another plan that his was accepted. That and by some terrible twist of fate, he had become the leader of this little band. Which include ancient elementals like the Sapphire Witch and Odom the Paladin.
How did things like this happen to him?
All he wanted was some pizza.
His stomach grumbled and rumbled. Reminding him of the long, long, long hours since it had last had any sustenance. He told it once again to shut the heckity heck up. Though he was feeling a little light headed.
It was probably more from stress than hunger.
“Hilario,” Rachel said.
He refrained from looking down at her. She was crouched in the foot well in front of the passenger seat. Sinzerklaazz’s red bag was on the seat beside her.
You’ll know what to do with it.
Sure, if the thing had come with an instruction manual. Which it didn’t. He only had a vague idea of what it might do. And honestly, the very notion seemed ridiculous.
“Hilario,” Rachel said again, “We’re getting close to the dark lords. I can feel them.”
He opened up his passive senses. Tasted the magical currents in the air.
Oh yes, they were out there. The dark magic was an oozing buzz washing against his mind. So much power. All concentrated in a small space.
Dark lords marshaling everything they had to push through when the gate opened.
He tried not to think of the black angel, still occupying the space behind his seat. What was its spiky, shimmery presence for? Rachel wouldn’t tell him.
Though, like the bag, he had a glimmer of an idea why.
“When we reach them,” he said, “How much time to we have?”
“Dawn is almost here,” Rachel said, “When the Eye of Malachi opens, we must act.”
Well, sure. That’s why they were doing this silly thing after all.
There was no reason to like it, though.
Someone in the back groaned. Sounds of movement. What the heck?
“Oh man, what happened?” Rodney the pizza delivery driver said.
Now the guy wakes up?
“Be quiet, fool,” the Sapphire Witch said.
“What? Who are–wait…You!”
That’s right about when Rodney started screaming. Screaming and babbling about flying women and bricks. Or maybe that was pooping bricks. It was hard to tell.
“Shut him up!” Hilario said.
“Verily, noble clown,” Odom said, “I shall smite him.”
Odom sat up, reaching for his sword.
“Wait, no! No smiting!” Hilario said.
Rodney saw the giant metal man and notched his screams up a few octaves. The man had an impressive range.
Unfortunately it was a little too high.
Roger the ogre poked his head over the side. “Oys, whats giveses?” he said, “Whoses blows the’s werbull whistles?”
Werbull whistle?
Outside the wall of orkes parted even further. Actually parted wasn’t quite the way to say it. How about flung aside? Or maybe, forcibly ejected from the ground?
However it was, orkes–big, hulking, brutes of creatures–suddenly became airborne, pinwheeling off into the smoky sky.
Then the smoke parted in thick swirls and the thing knocked the last few orkes aside. There it stood in all its bowel loosening glory.
The werbull.
Twelve feet tall at its massively muscled shoulders. It’s misshapen head held another six feet above that.
