“Have you been here before, Larry?” Hilario asked.
Something stirred from the back of the van.
“Hey!” Marco said as the Sapphire Witch pushed him aside.
She moved between the seats. The leather and cardamon scent of her mixed with the baking scent coming though the open window. His stomach rumbled. He pressed a hand to it. This was not a good time.
The Sapphire Witch fixed her brass rimmed googled gaze on Larry.
“You lied to me,” she said.
Larry shrank back from her. “No, no, I didn’t,” he said.
Well, at least the stupid, fake accent had disappeared for the moment.
The Sapphire Witch spat out her words from between clenched teeth: “You told me you hadn’t crossed over to the unseen world.”
“I didn’t! I didn’t!” Larry said, “It wasn’t me. It was…”
She leaned closer. “Who?”
Larry turned his face away.
“Was it her?” the Sapphire Witch asked.
He shook his head. “She didn’t. I told you she wasn’t part of it.”
Hilario brought the van to a gentle stop. The fur people pushed against it. Rocking it on its creaking suspension. Not hard. Not yet.
He was more interested in the exchange going on beside him. From the beginning he’d expected there was more to Larry’s story. That there were missing pieces. But Larry wasn’t giving it up.
Not until now.
“Yes she was, Larry Sparrow,” Lady Sapphire said, “She had to be.”
“No! I wouldn’t do that to her!” Larry shouted, “He just wanted to use her!”
Use her? Rachel?
The Sapphire Witch pressed closer to Larry. He shrank back against the door. He glowed bright, like a lit bulb. So bright Hilario could barely look at him.
“What did you promise him?” the Sapphire Witch said.
Larry wailed. Ran his nails down his cheeks. Which produced no effect. He had no flesh to tear.
“How did you get to his realm!” the Sapphire Witch shouted.
“He came to me!” Larry cried.
The Sapphire Witch jerked back like she’d been struck. “How?” she said, “I would have sensed…no…it was the fire spirit, wasn’t it?”
Larry put his hands over his face.
“He gave you the power, didn’t he?” the Sapphire Witch asked softly, “You tried to tell me it came from your ancestors. Old magic, you told me. But that isn’t true, is it? He gave you the power.”
And suddenly Hilario understood why the Sapphire Witch wanted Larry to cook in her kitchen. She wasn’t interested in pizza or seducing a human.
She was trying to figure out where Larry Sparrow’s magical powers came from.
Because Larry’s culinary skills weren’t the result of skill or talent.
He cheated.
Larry had cheated. He’d found a source of magic. And used it.
In the normal world.
How did he think that wouldn’t attract attention?
Powerful attention?
Hilario wanted to slap both himself and Larry upside the head. How had he not known? Sure, he’d suspected magic. But he’d never investigated it closer had he? Why? Because it wasn’t his job. And Larry was such a nice, friendly person. Who seemed harmless.
And like all things that looked and sounded harmless, Hilario should have known to run the opposite direction.
The Sapphire Witch leaned toward Larry. Who still cowered against the door.
“What was his price?” she asked, “There is always a price. What was it?”
The van shook violently. Light poured through the windows. There was a sudden wrenching sensation. Like the van had moved and just as quickly stopped.
The light faded.
Outside, a huge room. Walls of wood soared up to a distant ceiling. A stone floor made of gray stone flecked with multicolored gems.
And at the end of the room, an enormous wooden throne.
Again with the thrones. Did every entity in the unseen world have to have a fancy, oversized throne?
And seated upon the throne in brilliantly shined red and silver armor: Sinzerklaazz.
A voice boomed out: “He promised me his first born.”
Oh dear.
49
Larry let out a ghostly wail that would have done any disembodied spirit proud. A cry of pure, anguished loss. That seemed to go on forever.
Well, it wasn’t like Larry had to take a breath any more, did he?
While Larry got his wail on, Hilario took the opportunity to check out the great and bowel softening Sinzerklaazz.
The first thing he observed about Sinzerklaazz was the he was really, really, really big. Not Godzilla big, but still…big. The being was one of the few Hilario had ever been in the presence of that deserved that ridiculous oversized throne.
Sinzerklaazz’s throne was made of wood–or maybe it was was just carved from a single, gigantic tree. Where he got it from was anyone’s guess. Since the Ice Realm didn’t look like a place that would be hospitable to giant trees. Or little trees, for that matter.
The throne was carved with intricate designs. Some of them seemed familiar. Like the designs on the monuments that the Old Ones had left behind. Indecipherable words and glyphs that he had no idea what they might mean. They could be ancient advertisements for all he knew. The dusty equivalent of product placement. Eat at Blork’s Eyeballery. Kids Eat Free on Tuesdays!
But probably not.
Through the open window of the van, the scent of fresh baked sugar cookies and peppermint candy was so strong that it practically wrapped itself around Hilario’s neck and strangled him.
It disappointed him that he couldn’t see any tables laden with goodies. Then again, eating food provided by powerful beings was often the same as entering into a poopy contract. There was always some kind of catch.
He told his stomach to chill out and went back to his observations.
Then there was Sinzerklaazz himself, seated regally upon his ornate throne. He had the shape of a human, as most of the elite in the unseen world did. Albeit one that could
