“Hell,” Marco said, “If fucking looks like fucking Hell. Any second now some guy with horns and a pitchfork is gonna pop out, right?”
The detective had come forward. Put his meaty paws on the backs of the seats. The gun was back in its holster. For the moment.
“No, devils belong to another realm,” Hilario said, “And really, they get a bad rap. They’re actually quite nice. Comparatively.”
Marco gave him a look that stated definitely that Hilario was either crazy or about to get a fist to the face for pulling his leg.
“You’re not hallucinating, Detective Marco,” Hilario said, “And this isn’t a joke.”
“Says you,” Marco said.
But his gaze went back to the bleak, fiery landscape ahead of them. Hilario couldn’t blame him. It did fit some of the normal world’s definition of a hellscape. Though he’d been to places in the real world that gave some of the bad places a run for title of Worst Place Ever.
“Where’s Rachel?” Larry asked.
An excellent question. One that he had no answer for.
“I don’t know,” he said, “But there’s someone we can ask.”
He motioned for Marco to move aside. The detective glared, but complied. Hilario went to his makeup cabinet and pulled the bloodwood box out from the bottom.
The stench of the Sea Terror slime was still eye-wateringly powerful. Detective Marco’s overcoat was getting pitched in the the flaming Phlegethon as soon as they took care of some other business.
He lifted the lid on the box.
The six-tailed rat demon shot out. Hilario grabbed it. Winced as claws dug into his flesh.
“Let me go, clown!” the rat demon shouted, “She’s going to hear about this!”
She being the Sapphire Witch, he assumed.
He squeezed the rat demons body hard enough to make the things black eyes bug out of its head.
“Do I need to open the cabinet again?” he said, pointing at the vanity mirror.
“Shit, no!” the creature cried.
“Why are we here?” Hilario said.
“Where’s Rachel?” Marco said.
Great, he had the gun out again. That gun needed to get lost somewhere. Maybe thrown in the river of fire with the overcoat.
“I don’t know where the girl is,” the rat demon said, “I got an idea, though.”
So did Hilario. But there were other questions to answer first.
“Why are we here?” he said, “You knew that portal led here. Why did the Sapphire Witch want us here?”
“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” the rat demon said.
Ice went up Hilario’s spine.
“Uh, Hilario?” Larry said.
Oh, poop rockets.
“She’s right in front of us, isn’t she?” he said.
“Yeah,” Larry said.
Hilario squeezed his eyes shut. The stupid rat-demon chuckled.
“And she’s not alone,” Larry said.
Hilario opened his eyes. The Sapphire Witch stood in front of the van, her arms crossed over her black leather coat. The brass buttons on it glowed red in the ruddy light. As did the brass rims on her goggles.
Behind her stood rows of black armored soldiers, long, barbed spears held in their hands.
The Sapphire Witch unfolded her arms. Came around to the passenger side of the van. Pulled open the door.
A wave of sulfurous air gushed in. The Sapphire Witch leaned in. A smile quirked up the corner of her mouth.
“Hello, clown,” she said.
30
He didn’t get a chance to pitch out the smelly overcoat.
Even though they went over the bridge to the Gem Keep at a stately pace. There just didn’t seem to be a right moment.
Besides, the sulfurous fumes rising from Phlegethon made him dizzy as it was. Rolling down the window would have just made it worse. That’s what he told himself anyway.
The Sapphire Witch, sitting in the passenger seat, directed them across the bridge and into the fabled Keep of the Gem Witches. A place Hilario had never dreamed–or wanted–to be in. Only bad things could come of this.
Like anything but bad had been coming his way his entire existence.
Even the good things, like entertaining the normal world children and collecting their light energy. Sometimes he ended up with cake on his face instead of in his mouth.
Hilario drove the van through a gate in the towering wall that surrounded the keep. The gate itself was like a mouth with jagged black teeth. Ready to chomp him and the van at the witch’s whim.
Rows of the black armored soldiers stood inside the keep. Each held a long, barbed spear. Most had long and short swords belted to their hips as well. Their smooth, black armor covered their entire bodies. Including their faces.
If they had faces.
“So…” Hilario said, “This is the Gem Realm. I’ve never been here. Nice place. It looks very…secure.”
“Stop talking, clown,” the Sapphire Witch said.
The six tailed rat demon sat curled up on her lap. The little beast stuck its forked tongue out at him. The creature, had, of course, immediately pointed its scaled finger at Hilario and blamed him for the loss of the Sapphire Witch’s automaton.
Which, technically, he had destroyed.
But his intentions had been good.
Those good intentions had led him directly to the Gem Realm. Which looked like the normal world's idea of a fiery afterlife of eternal punishment.
This was exactly the way his luck always ran.
Hilario eased the van down the soldier lined lane. Deeper into the Gem Keep, with its spiny black towers under a blood red sky.
The towers crowded closer the further in he drove. Close up he could see the facets in them. As if they were huge crystals grown instead of built. Which they probably were. The gem witches didn’t seem to be the type to pick up a hammer unless it was to hurt something.
There didn’t seem to be any windows in the towers.
For some reason that disturbed him even more than the rows of faceless soldiers.
At least the van smelled a
