He relented to the tugging of the tendrils. Stepped out along the thorny, vine lined path. His idiot companions did as well. Including the Sapphire Witch, he noted. Though Odom seemed to be guiding her.
Hilario moved past the van’s door. He kept his eyes down. Guided his floppy clown shoes down the path. His knees protested every step. But he didn’t want to use any more of his light energy just to make his knees happy.
The cloying scent of roses filled the air. But underneath was still a note of decay and ammonia.
He saw another bit of spider leg sticking out from the thorn covered vines. Had Lord Igidbon suffered the same fate?
Finally the path came to an end at a tangle of vines and blood red roses. He took a deep breath and raised his face to look. Even though he already knew what he would see.
58
Except there was more than he expected at the end of that vine choked path in Lord Igidbon’s cavern.
They swirled into being just as he looked up. Behind him the Sapphire Witch sucked in a sharp breath. Odom muttered an oath. If Detective Marco or Roger had anything to say, they didn’t say it loud enough to hear. Then again, Hilario wasn’t paying much attention to any of his companions right then.
He yelped and stumbled back. Only to run into the immovable form of Odom the Paladin. Panic seized his chest and squeezed hard. For a brief moment he considered lighting out over the tangled bed of vines and blood red roses.
But the vines seemed to sense his thoughts. They rose up, making a wall that came up to his thunderous thighs. Maybe if he’d been a few hundred pounds lighter he could have jumped over them.
Though the gleaming, hooked thorns would have caught him anyway.
He cast thoughts of running aside. The cloyingly sweet scent of roses filled his head. They still didn’t cover up the stink of decay.
Flowers over a fresh grave.
Hopefully not his.
But it didn’t look good at the moment.
Not with two black angels standing just feet away from him.
His eyes slid over their spiky black forms. It had been a long time since he’d been so close to one. Did they still remember him?
Of course they did.
In any other circumstances, he would have been skewered. Whether he was dead or alive.
But the black angels stood silent and as immobile as their spiky, shimmery forms would let them. Black columns of terror on either side of her.
Rachel.
The jeans and black pullover sweater she wore were torn. Bare flesh showed through the tears. Flesh unmarked by any cuts or bruises.
Her feet were bare.
They did not touch the black stone beneath them.
Rose studded vines wrapped her legs and torso. Her arms were mostly free, though thin tendrils with heart shaped leaves circled her shoulders and upper arms.
Above her head was a woven circle of blood red roses and more heart shaped leaves. It didn’t touch her flowing black hair that framed her serene face. Her eyes glowed solid green. Windows to the power that burned within her.
And outside of her.
Pale green flames licked over her body. Cast the flickering green light that lit the cavern.
He didn’t need to open himself up to feel the pulse of her power. It washed against him like the ocean against the shore. Relentless and uncaring.
At her feet were two limp forms.
Both were easy to recognize.
One was the thin form of Rodney the delivery driver. Good old Rodney didn’t appear any worse for wear. He was still in his fluffy bunny pajama bottoms. And he was still unconscious.
Hilario envied him his lack of having to consciously participate in whatever was about to unfold here.
The other figure was the apparently not dead Lord Igidbon. His dark blue business suit had blotchy stains and bits of black carapace that suggested he had still been on his terror spider when it met its end. His jaunty red boots and white hat had somehow stayed on. Though the hat wasn’t so white any more.
Something rustled behind him. Followed by the clink of metal on stone. He glanced back, and it was like a slap to the face to see Odom the Paladin down on one knee. The paladin’s head was bowed, his right hand over his heart.
His voice thick with emotion, he said: “You have returned my queen.”
The corner of Rachel’s mouth quirked up. The green flames that licked over her body brightened for a moment.
“I never left, Paladin,” she said.
If Hilario’s head could have spun like a top on his neck, it would have. Queen? Rachel?
“Of course, your majesty,” Odom said, “It is…we have not felt your presence here.”
Detective Marco pushed past Odom and Hilario. He put his meaty paws on his hips and gave Rachel and surly look.
“What the hell, sis?” he said, “What is this? Where have you been?”
“Sister!” the Sapphire Witch exclaimed.
She started to say something else, but apparently thought better of it when Rachel raised her hand.
“Enough,” Rachel said, “There is no time left for questions.”
She nodded her head toward Hilario. Her expression softened. Slightly.
“Dear Hilario,” she said, “You must still bear the burden.”
Ice gripped his heart. But he clasped his white gloved hands together and bowed his head to her.
“Of course Ra–Your Majesty,” he said, “I am at your command.”
As if he had a choice about it. When beings of power told you to jump, you didn’t ask how high. You got in the air and kept climbing until someone said stop. And if you were lucky, they might.
“I am still
