“Yeah, dipwad,” Detective Marco said, “You barely said boo about her. Now you’re all up in her honor and shit.”
Anger and terror fought over Larry’s face. Terror mostly winning.
“She shouldn’t be here,” he said, “This is all my fault.”
Hilario didn’t see any reason to argue the point with him. It did appear that most of this night’s trouble was Larry’s fault. Or at least a consequence of his impatience and lack of judgement.
“Really, I must know more about this Rachel individual,” Odom said, “Why is there such a fuss about her?”
Larry rounded on the paladin. “She’s the most wonderful woman in all the world,” he said, “And I didn’t deserve to be in her presence.”
“You got that right,” Marco said.
“And it’s all my fault she’s caught up in this mess. I should have told her everything. Even if it meant losing her forever.”
Hilario refrained from pointing out Rachel had divorced him. Which perhaps wasn’t losing her forever, but was a large step in that direction.
“That is all very interesting,” Odom said, “Yet it still fails to answer my basic question: Who is this Rachel and why is she important?”
“Puppies!”
Hilario jerked back from the window.
The van creaked and dipped.
Something grabbed it and stopped it.
Something with eight long legs and a mouthful of razors.
Even through the closed window, he could smell the stench of it. A smell like carrion and ammonia.
“I love puppies!” Lord Igdibon said.
The dark lord had his face up against the windshield. A goofy grin plastered on his face. The dark lord had his cowboy hat in one hand and was vigorously beating it against his posterior.
“Yeeeeeeeeeee Haw!” the dark lord exclaimed.
Lord Igdibon’s eyes were wide. His pupils so dilated his eyes were seas of white rimmed black.
“Dude’s stoned out of his mind,” Marco said.
Looking into the dark lord’s glazed eyes and loopy, slobbery grin, Hilario had to agree. Lord Igdibon did indeed seem to be tripping testicles.
Lord Igdibon licked the windshield with a ridiculously long, pink tongue.
“Kittens are so cute!” he exclaimed.
The dark lord squinted, as if noticing for the first time that his van shaped lollipop had occupants. His eyes went wide again and he sucked in an excited breath.
“Oooooo, I love clowns!” he said.
Hilario’s heart sped up. The next words out of the dark lord’s mouth would determine their fate. Hilario braced for it.
“They’re delicious,” Lord Igdibon said.
Oh, poop.
55
In the unseen world, there were few things that were delicious. Most food was the sort to be endured, not savored. Food was only appreciated for the fact that each meal could be one’s last. So eat up your porcuebat intestine soup, junior.
Was it any wonder that he loved the normal world most of all for its food?
And in the normal world, no one ever looked at him and thought to themselves: I could make a decent meal or two out of that clown.
Yet here he was, caught in the ammonia stinking web of a giant terror spider, while the spider’s master went on at length about his mother’s recipe for clown stew.
Which was hardly a recipe. All it consisted of was chopping him to bits and throwing the parts in a pot. There wasn’t a single mention of seasonings. Not even a little oregano or thyme to liven things up.
He would have thought a crazy person wearing a business suit, white cowboy hat with peacock feathers in it, and red cowboy boots would have a little more imagination.
“–and then I’m going to get really big spoon and num, num, num!” Lord Igdibon said.
Which was getting tedious, because he had already said that at least three times. It was like the dark lord’s record was stuck.
“Crimminy, just kill us already,” Marco said.
Hilario looked in the rearview mirror. The Sapphire Witch was still out. Though the acrid smoke had mostly dissipated. The only thing that gave him the suspicion she still lived was the soft blue glow of her goggle lenses.
“Num, num, num,” said Lord Igdibon. Again.
Hilario shifted on his seat. To say his desire to put some distance between himself and the dark lord was significant would be a significant understatement. Really, how did he get himself into these situations? All he had wanted this night was some pizza and maybe a little conversation with his friend, Larry.
Who apparently was the cork plugging the hole between universes. Or at least part of the cork. Or had his hands on the cork.
Maybe cork wasn’t the greatest analogy.
“Hey, clown,” Marco said, “Are we going to do something or what? I don’t think your magic fairy out there is going to do much of anything.”
Hilario sighed. Watched Lord Igdibon’s creepily long, pink tongue lick the windshield yet again.
If it wasn’t for the razor tongued piano spider the dark lord was riding, Hilario would be inclined to agree with detective Marco.
However…
Hilario cleared his throat. Looked over to Odom the Paladin. Who sat with his brooding gaze on the whacked out dark lord licking the windshield.
“Sir Odom, sir,” Hilario said, “Have you vanquished terror spiders before?”
Hint, hint. Get your metal posterior out there and do something heroic, sir paladin.
The paladin should be able to whip out his sword and make quick work of the spider and its master. With any luck he could also catch the van before it fell. Maybe even carry it down to the ground if the Sapphire Witch didn’t recover enough to levitate the vehicle.
But Odom shuddered. A ripple ran over his iron gray skin. It gave off a faint ringing sound.
“Alas, noble clown,” Odom said, “I find myself unable to battle those of the arachnid persuasion.”
Hilario took a few moments to process that. He slowly blinked at the paladin.
It took Detective Marco far less time.
“Dude, you’re scared of spiders?” he asked.
Odom
