And, of course, the smell.
He suspected the dark lord had evacuated his bowels into the dark gray business suit trousers he wore. But asking Larry about it seemed a little crass.
He never said this was a good plan.
He looked up at his companions in the too cozy confines of the van. Never in his wildest pessimistic imagination had he foreseen this many beings crowding his personal space.
Not that any of them looked happy to be here, either.
“By the gods on their cold thrones, clown,” Odom said, “Never have I seen such disregard for the sanctity of spirit and nobility.”
Hilario’s first inclination was to give the paladin a one fingered salute in return. But that would be bad. Despite what he had just done, he was still trying not to do bad things.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Hilario said.
“Holy fricking shit,” Detective Marco said, “That is some sick shit you just did.”
The detective cradled his gun to his chest. Stroked the barrel like it was a cat.
Dang right, dog, the gun said, That’s just messed up.
Roger the ogre, freshly returned inside from scaring off bat-serpents couldn’t take his trembling eyes off Lord Igidbon’s corpse. The ogre huddled in the far corner, his knobby arms wrapped around himself.
“Badses its ises,” he said.
Everyone was a critic.
Rodney the pizza delivery driver was still out. Propped up in the other back corner of the van. Drool ran from the corner of his mouth. At least he was going to be well rested when he woke.
Assuming they weren’t all killed instantly by a horde of enraged dark lords.
He turned to Rachel, kneeled beside the semi-conscious Sapphire Witch. Her glowing green eyes held no expression. Her face seemed to hold no judgment. The green tendrils snaking over her body moved slowly over her limbs. Unharmed by the heatless green flames that ran over her.
“He’s has done what is needed,” she said.
Well, finally. Someone on his side.
“Though, I think I’m going to throw up soon,” she said.
Sigh.
He didn’t even want to know what the black angel was thinking. He edged away from the spiky patch of darkness behind the driver’s seat. The air hissed and sizzled around the thing. He only hoped whatever Rachel was doing to keep the creature in check would hold.
He moved to the Sapphire Witch and painfully kneeled again. His knees wept for mercy. He told them to shut up. If they got back to the normal world intact, he’d get them some ice packs and ibuprofen. Until then, everyone needed to tow the line and not complain.
The Sapphire Witch moaned and rolled her head from side to side. Conscious, but not conscious.
Lost within herself.
“Igidbon had spelled her,” Rachel said, “Put her under a control curse.”
“How could he do that to a gem witch?” he asked.
“He had help.”
Well, of course he did. Apparently the dark lords had been cooperating longer than everyone thought they had.
Rachel put a hand to the Sapphire Witch’s fevered forehead. “Her true self has been locked away. I thought Igidbon’s death would break the curse. But it’s still there. She’s fighting it.”
He glanced up at Rachel. With her glowing eyes and green fire.
“You can’t break it? With your power?” he asked.
Rachel shook her head. Her lips pressed to a thin line.
“I’m trying,” she said, “My power is over living things. Organic living things. She’s an elemental. There’s only so much I can influence her body.”
Okay, good to know her power wasn’t unlimited. Though, at the moment, somewhat disappointing. Having someone on their side with unlimited power would be poopity pooping awesome.
Hilario gestured to Detective Marco. “Bring that box over here,” he said.
Marco seemed to consider a surly reply. But he looked at his sister. Some silent communication went between them. Marco put his gun back in its holster and handed the box over.
Hilario winced as the bloodwood box touched his bare fingers. He snapped up his mental shields against the bloodwood’s buzzing magic. Bloodwood was one of the few natural elements of the unseen world that blocked magic. That could contain magic.
He’d heard of wizards who made bloodwood coffins for their enemies. Then buried them alive.
Which was pretty silly. Bloodwood was quite rare. It would cost a fortune to make an entire coffin of one. Though he had seen a desk made of bloodwood once.
He probably shouldn’t underestimate a being’s willingness to go to maniacal lengths for victory or vengeance.
He set the bloodwood box on the floor beside the Sapphire Witch. He took a breath. Steeled himself for the stupidity he was going to do next.
With one hand he lifted the lid. The other hand darted inside before its occupant could react.
He closed his fingers around Queezleyan’s neck and jerked the little rat demon out. The thing dug its claws into the meat of his hand. The thing’s six tails whipped at his arm. He bit his lip and pushed the pain aside. He squeezed the rat demon’s neck until its beady yellow eyes threatened to pop out of its head.
“Stop or I’ll put you back in the box,” Hilario said.
Quueezleyan slumped. Hilario let up the pressure. A little.
“Time for answers,” Hilario said. He pointed to the mirror over his makeup cabinet. “Do you want to look at what’s in the cabinet? Or do you want to talk?”
The beady eyes darted to the cabinet. Back to Hilario.
“Talk,” it said.
Hilario shoved Queezleyan at the Sapphire Witch.
“How long?”
“How long what?” Queezleyan.
Hilario gestured to Rachel. “Could you please pull open the mirror cabinet,” he said, “There’s a catch on the upper right side.”
Rachel started to move.
“Wait!” Queezleyan cried.
The little beast slumped again.
