The entire combination of terror spider, cheerful singing, and bizarre outfit made Hilario’s head hurt. It really, truly did.
Lord Igdibon looked like he’d be more comfortable at a meeting of the Texas Gay Cattleman’s Association than in the dark realms of the unseen world.
He had a suspicion Lord Igdibon’s contemporaries felt the same way.
“This is the dark lord you’ve been boinking on the side?” Odom said.
Hilario glanced at the rearview mirror. The Sapphire Witch sat with her hands braced on the makeup cabinet. Her face pale, her lips set in a thin, grim line.
Detective Marco unwisely chose to speak up. “Seriously? You’ve been riding the pork pony with that thing?”
The Sapphire’s Witch’s hands were in motion before Hilario could shout out a warning. Bolts of blue electricity crackled from her finger tips.
By all rights, that should have been the extra crispy end of Detective Marco.
Instead the electricity flowed around him. Did a couple loop de loops. Then fired back at the Sapphire Witch at twice the intensity.
The Lady Sapphire yelped as the bolts hit. She flung backward from the little stool she sat on. Hit the back wall of the van with a crackling thud.
Immediately the van tilted, the body creaking and groaning.
Odom jerked forward. Hilario shrank back, thinking the paladin had finally decided to finish the job that the rest of the universe had so far failed to do.
But the metal giant stopped just short of the front seats.
The van slowly creaked back to level. Became somewhat stable on its pivot again.
And everyone took a breath. Slowly. Carefully.
Though he wasn’t sure the Sapphire Witch was still breathing. Her image in the rearview mirror was very, very still. Thin streams of smoke rose from her body.
“What the fuck just happened?” Marco said.
He was squished between Odom and the passenger seat.
Odom turned his majestic head toward the detective.
“What manner of mage are you?” he asked.
“Huh? What’s a mage?” Marco said, “I had a dog once that had mange. You better not be calling me mangy you big block of tin. I’ll kick your ass.”
“I am inclined to believe your threats have merit,” Odom said, “However–”
Hilario cleared his throat. Outside, the crazy–or at least exceedingly eccentric–Lord Igdibon was still carrying on in verse about the wondrous merits of puppy snuggles.
“Sir Odom, sir,” Hilario said, “I don’t think Detective Marco is aware of his abilities, if he has any. He has been put under a very powerful protective shield. Though, until now, I believed it only protected the detective’s mental processes.”
Odom tapped at his chin with a well formed finger. It clinked with each tap.
“It appears to protect him well,” Odom said.
Well of course it did. Quite obviously. Blisteringly obviously. Especially to the still smoking form of the Sapphire Witch.
Hilario craned his neck around. Was she still breathing? Had she been breathing before being zapped? He’d never really let his eyes linger long enough on her chest to notice if breathing was something she did on a regular basis.
“Do not worry about the Lady Sapphire,” Odom said, “She will be fine.”
He’d have to take the paladin’s word for it. He was in no position to go check for a pulse. Any movement of his five hundred pounds would send the van tumbling into the terror spider’s web.
He wasn’t sure which he feared more. The terror spider or Lord Igdibon’s singing.
Nothing that sung about butterflies and puppies–and oh, look, now he was singing about the glory of fluffy kittens tickling one’s nose.
Nothing that sang songs like that in the unseen world could be anything but purest, darkest, dankest evil. Hilario wasn’t going to be fooled by an admittedly well tailored business suit and hand-tooled leather cowboy boots.
He knew evil when he was in its presence.
Odom seemed to agree. He fingered the hilt of the massive sword sheathed on his back. His sapphire blue eyes narrowed. A look of distaste settled on his face.
“If I were not bound by honor to protect the worthless lives in this pathetic vehicle,” Odom said, “I would burst forth and smite the head from that…that…”
“Turd burglar?” Detective Marco offered.
Odom turned his gaze to the detective. “I fear the protective spells on your brain have robbed it of precious oxygen.”
“Watch it tin man,” Marco said, “I’ll mess you up.”
Hilario desperately wished for a brick wall to beat his head against. Or a quart of Butter Brickle ice cream. Yes, ice cream would be better. No bruising or head trauma involved with ice cream.
Not unless he tried to eat it too fast.
Roger the Ogre spoke up from his perch behind Hilario’s seat.
“What’ses we’ses goings to do’s?” he asked.
Hilario shrugged. The van creaked and trembled.
Oh come on, he couldn’t even shrug?
“I assume we wait for Lord Igdibon to stop serenading us and start killing us,” Hilario said, “He’s your boss. You tell us what he’s going to do.”
“I’s think’ses he’s lostedes his’s marbleses,” Roger said.
Sure, that seemed a reasonable guess.
“Where’s Rachel!” Larry shouted, “Let her go, you piece of crap!”
Hilario contemplated the insubstantial presence of his friend. Larry's eyes were wide. The cords in his neck stood out in stark relief. He shook clenched fists at the bonkers dark lord and his terror spider.
Easy for him to do. He was already dead.
“Larry,” Hilario said.
Larry continued his tirade. He made a series of comments that suggested Lord Igdibon’s parents had been siblings as well as common barnyard animals. It was quite colorful, if anatomically improbable.
“Larry!” Hilario said.
Larry jerked his head around, his eyes wild.
“Why are you
