Chills ran over him. Oh dear. Of course it had to be him. It was perfectly normal for the fate of hundreds of thousands of people to be put in the hands of a psychic, morbidly obese clown, right?
No matter how much his feet desired to take him somewhere else as fast as possible…or how much his legs trembled…he would do what was needed.
Which, at the moment, he had only the barest idea of what he had to do. And even that inkling threatened to turn his knees to water underneath him.
He bowed his head to her. “What is your command?”
“It is no command of mine,” Rachel said, “It is what we must do in this corner we have been forced into.”
He didn’t reply. He stared at the still forms or Rodney and Lord Igidbon. Everyone had a part to play. What was Rodney’s? Traitor or pawn? And what about Lord Igidbon? It hardly seemed likely the dark lord was much of a plotter in this drama.
Everyone seemed to be getting played here. Who pulled the strings?
“Your majesty,” Odom said, “Though I am fond of this clown, and though I do not wish to question you…are you certain you have chosen the right being for the task ahead?”
“He is the only being for the task,” Rachel said, “For he does not know what he is.”
Well, that sounded both promising and terrifying. Being important really wasn’t his thing. It fit him about as comfortably as a spandex body suit would.
“And what is he, my liege?” Odom asked, “He is but a creature of the dark realms who has somehow found his way to lighter places. Surely my blade would be more effective against the forces of darkness than–”
“Enough!” Rachel said.
Her voice echoed in the cavern. Bouncing off the stone with ear ringing force. Hilario cringed as the tones faded.
Rachel turned her bright gaze back to him. His heart sped up.
“Hilario, you will need all of these idiots to help you,” she said. She looked upward and sighed. “Including me.”
Well, having help was good. Though so far his companions had only been of marginal help. Mostly they had brought him closer to a horrifically painful death. But sure, help. Yeah.
“My liege,” Odom said, “My blade and I are at your command.”
Of course he was. And Hilario waited for next obvious response from the Sapphire Witch.
“You do not command me,” the Sapphire Witch said.
And there it was…
“My realm is older than yours and my sisters and I will not be beholden to your kind.”
Rachel threw her head back and laughed.
Which only chilled his bones even further. Oh, this couldn’t be good. Even worse, he was standing between them. If they chose to battle, it would have to be through his bulk first. Maybe he could ease to one side…
Rachel’s laughter echoed in the enormous chamber. The peals pounded his ears until he thought blood would pour from them.
But at last her laughter faded. He scooched as far to the side of the vine lined path as he dared. It still wasn’t enough. Curse his junk food inflated form.
Rachel’s blazing eyes focused on the Sapphire Witch. Who was no doubt glaring back from behind her brass rimmed goggles.
“Age I will give you,” Rachel said, “But your kind has always been put into service for the living. Always. Your power is great. But you and your sisters have never been clever enough to keep the living down.”
The Sapphire Witch’s lips twisted into a snarl. “You have no power over me,” she said, “And I will no longer be a part this farce. Whatever it is.”
The Lady Sapphire spun on her heel to leave. Roger the ogre cringed and jumped aside. Thorns dug into his backside and he yelped.
“I am giving you a clean slate, Lady Sapphire,” Rachel said, “You can be on the side of right. Where you belong.”
The Sapphire Witch spun back around. Raised her fist to Rachel. Lighting cracked between her fingers.
“You give me nothing,” she said, “Your pathetic spell can’t keep my memories from me. You cannot change me with your puny powers.”
It hardly seemed fair calling Rachel’s powers puny. From what he’d witnessed, they appeared quite vigorous. Terrifyingly so. As terrifying as the Sapphire Witch’s. More so, even.
And curse his luck, he was still standing between them. The Sapphire Witch’s sparking fist was mere feet from his face. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up just being this close.
He honked his bulbous red clown nose and held up his hands to both of them.
“Dear ladies,” he said, “May I show you a funny little trick I learned back when I was just a skinny new clown?”
The Sapphire Witch frowned at him. “When were you ever skinny?”
He shrugged and did a little two step that made his floppy clown shoes slap against the cold stone.
“Perhaps that was an exaggeration,” he said.
He drew a bouquet of paper flowers from his sleeve. They were rather crumpled and damp from the long night in his sweaty sleeves. But they were still bright red, yellow and orange. He bowed and held them out to the Sapphire Witch.
“My lady,” he said.
The Sapphire Witch snarled. The paper flowers burst into flame. He dropped them on the cold, black stone.
“No more tricks, clown,” she said.
All righty then. He twirled around on one foot and honked his nose again.
As he spun he glanced at the limp form of Lord Igidbon.
Flamboyant fools.
Their flashy, silly exteriors were good for hiding the darkness crusting their souls.
As well
