Chapter 21 #2
“Here!” Day hopped up on Sariel’s shoulder and then dropped down on Seymour’s chest.
“Hey! Oof!” Seymour hugged her close but tried to push out of Sariel’s embrace. “Sariel! Dammit! You’re hurt!”
“And you’re slow,” Sariel gently retorted. “We must escape to another part of Faerie as quickly as possible.”
“Quickly sounds great!” Shiloh snatched the Rolodex as they ran by it, wheezing. “I got you, Izzy!” He pointed off in the distance to another door. There was hundreds of feet of path plus another building between them and it. “If we can make it to that door over there…!”
“Then what?” Seymour demanded.
“Fuck if I know, but it’s gotta be better than here!”
The building before them was a round room and large rectangles cut into the stone equal distances apart. Some of these openings led to other paths, but most were simply dangerous gaps where many a monster was finding a short trip for a long way down.
The lantern men were relentless, and the monsters were mostly dead or on the run.
Choco saw them and waved.
Seymour had no idea what else to do, so he waved back.
The doorway leading to the path they needed was only a few yards off now. They could do this. They were almost there. Everything was going to be fine. Seymour wasn’t going to die here. It didn’t matter what some crazy chick at a magic shop said.
Everything was great.
Dandy, even.
Everything was—
The building shook as the troll burst through the doorway, choosing to shatter his way through it instead of slink through. He roared and swung his fists, lantern men flying and pinging off the walls and ceiling like ping pong balls.
Okay, so maybe everything wasn’t so great.
“Fuckin’ Christ on a stick, that ain’t fuckin’ good.” Seymour groaned.“Hey! Is there sunlight here? Is what we’re seein’ with enough to kill a troll?”
“Nope!” Shiloh called back. “It’s not actually sunlight. There’s no sun. It’s—”
“Okay, okay, fuck! Just… run!”
“Gee golly! Like I didn’t think of that!”
“Fuck you!”
“Fuck you!”
Sariel growled, perhaps a plea to cease their arguing, and he pushed through the fray.
The swing of a giant rock monster’s club prompted him to leap, expertly using his uninjured wing to jump and glide over it.
He hit the ground and kept going, even as gold liquid dripped off one of his spinning rings.
It landed on Seymour’s forehead, and he cringed. He hugged Day tight and said about a few dozen quick prayers to every god and goddess he’d ever heard of that they were going to make it out of this nightmare in one piece.
Day whimpered quietly and purred, but the purr was weak and mournful.
Sariel raced right through the slaughter and out the doorway to the next path. He hadn’t slowed for a second, every eye blazing bright. Thunderous footsteps from behind them signaled the troll was close.
Way too close.
“Oh fuck me—” Shiloh shouted.
“What’s happening?” Seymour strained to look over Sariel’s shoulder.
“It’s Shiloh!” Day cried. “He’s hurt!”
Seymour couldn’t see what had happened, but he didn’t have long to worry about it.
The troll jumped again, sailing overhead and landing in front of them, once again cutting them off. “You.” He pointed at Seymour. “You will pay for what you did to my brother. Your suffering will be great and—”
The path suddenly rose in a wave as if the stone had turned into Jell-O. The troll fell backward, and the wave continued, carrying him toward the next building. Words formed, a river of frantic letters chasing the troll down the whole way.
nO YoU
YouuUUu
iT iS YOU
WHO
WiLL
PAY
FOR THIS
The troll landed in a heap in the middle of the building. He tried to stand and roared in frustration, and the stone around him warped and wiggled.
Seymour stared. “What in the actual fuck…?”
The ceiling collapsed inward, crushing the troll. The segments between the doorways broke off and stretched up, meeting in the air above the sunken ceiling. They twisted together tighter and tighter until there was no space left between them, and…
Huh.
It looked like a stone ice cream cone.
The stone shifted again:
hA Ha hAaa
I WiNnn
hOmE nOw pleeaSe
“Holy shit, Izba.” Seymour laughed hysterically. “That was… That was… Wow!”
heLp SHILOH
HELP
HELP
HELP
The word repeated, getting bigger and bigger each time.
“He is very hurt!” Day meowed.
Sariel turned around, quickly rushing back. “We are coming!”
Shiloh was on his side, his body twisted into several weird angles. He did not appear to be conscious, but he was breathing at least. Blood pooled around his head in an ever-growing puddle, and the unusual positioning of his body was due to both of his legs being quite obviously broken.
“What the fuck happened?” Seymour slipped out of Sariel’s arms.
“It appears the troll crushed him.” Sariel kneeled and several of his golden muscular tendrils wiggled out to curl around Shiloh’s legs and hips, perhaps in hope of stabilizing his many injuries.
“I will heal him enough so that I can move him safely, but we must leave this place as soon as possible.”
“Sooner the fuckin’ better.” Seymour looked around the vast maze.
The lantern men were tirelessly fighting the dwindling horde. Most of the monsters had died or fled, and what few had shown up to join the fight seemed to have also run off.
Including the imp with the brain.
“Did any of y’all see what happened to the brain?” Seymour asked suddenly. “I saw it for a second and then nothin’.”
“The brain?” Day stared. “I… I don’t remember.”
“I saw that snake lookin’ guy with it!” Seymour pointed back at the building behind them, hope fluttering through his chest. “He had a brain! Fancy, shiny lookin’ brain! It had to be Talos’s. It was glowing and was all gold and shit! Okay, I guess it was technically bronze, but—”
“Seymour,” Sariel said, his tone gentle but firm.
“What?” Seymour waved his arms. “That was it! The fuckin’ thing I need to finish this shit! You remember, right? Crazy faeries, your demon boss? Did you see where that guy went? We could—”
“Seymour.” Sariel’s eyes blazed. “Shiloh is very badly injured. I am injured as well. I am trying to heal him.”
“I know, but—”
“I may fail.”
“What?” Seymour gawked stupidly, and he looked at Shiloh again.
The blood had stopped flowing from Shiloh’s head, but his eyes remained closed. His legs were also at those horrible, wonky angles, and his skin was growing pale. Everywhere Sariel touched him buzzed with golden light, but it was flickering in and out in a way Seymour had not witnessed before.
Shit.
No…
This was bad.
This was really bad.
He was suddenly reminded of his mother.
The wreck, how frail and small she was in the hospital bed, how broken—
“I know the brain is important, but it has to wait.” Sariel’s light dimmed for a moment. “Shiloh only wished to help us, and now he may lose his life. I must focus now. Please.”
“I…” Seymour clicked his teeth together and swallowed back the bile climbing up his throat. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“It is all right.”
“No, I wasn’t thinkin’. And I’m an asshole.”
YeS
yeS YOU aReee
Seymour snorted at the ground. “Yeah, yeah. I know.” He frowned, trying to ignore the guilt eating at his stomach and focus on the present. That was what mattered right now. This he could control. “Is, uh, he going to be okay?”
“I am doing the best I can.” Sariel shuddered.
LiKe the BIGGEST
EVER
COLLOSALLL
MamMoTH
HuGenorMOUS
GaPING
“Are you okay?” Seymour raised his brow. “You’re, uh, talkin’ weird.”
I HAVE MERGED WITH THE FAERIE REALM
IT IS NoT aGreeING with ME
“Is that even possible?” Seymour frowned. “Then again, I guess you are a magical house or whatever. Did you, like, possess the stone?”
I aM thE STONE
THE SKY
THE AIR
THE MOLECULES YOU ARE brEATHING IN AND OUT
I CAN SEE YOUR LUNGS
I DO noT LiKE THem
I woULD like to LEAVE
“Where’s your Rolodex at?” Seymour searched the ground, trying not to look at the blood.
“Here!” Day scooped it up from where it had fallen out of Shiloh’s hands. “I can watch him. I will not lose him.”
“Thanks, kitty girl.” Seymour lightly toed the stone. “You, uh, gonna be okay, Izba? Like, when we leave, you’re comin’ with us, right?”
I beLIEVe SO
“It is time to go now.” Sariel gently lifted Shiloh into his arms, using his muscular bits to keep him level. “I have done all I can to ensure that he will be stable for transportation, but we must leave.”
“And are you okay?” Seymour gently touched Sariel’s arm.
Sariel’s wing remained tucked back, and a long stream of golden blood continued to drip. His eyes fluttered, and he nodded his giant head. “Once we leave this place, yes.”
“All right. Let’s get to gettin’.” Seymour scooped Day up on his shoulder and hurried toward the door. He looked back several times to make sure Sariel and Shiloh were still behind him and that no other monsters had decided to appear.
When they reached the door, it was then that Seymour realized there was no knob.
Fuck it.
He pulled his keys out of his pocket so he could select the one from his father. As before, it moved on its own, drawn to the door and making a distinct click as if it had been pressed into a keyhole. There was another click, and the door opened.
On the other side was a lush garden. There was a large fancy house with tall spires and a wraparound porch, endless rows of roses in every color imaginable, and two women were having a tea party beneath a white trellis covered in purple and blue flowering vines.
There was also a naked man with a big mustache digging a hole.
Oh, and he was on fire.
Seymour turned to ask Sariel if they should try another door—maybe one with less people on fire—but the world of crazy twisting paths were gone.
He whipped his head forward to stare at the man on fire, finding they were all inside the garden now, though they hadn’t actually stepped through the doorway.
God, this place was nuts.
The women were seated on white wicker furniture, and they cackled as they watched the man burn and scream in pain.
They each wore high-collared dresses and big hats adorned with tall feathers and fresh flowers.
Every inch of them seemed to sparkle with a jewel, a bauble, or some sort of shiny embroidery, and they were completely surrounded by tables stacked with tray after tray of tarts, cookies, and cakes.
One woman had red hair, and she giggled between sips of tea. “Too hot for you, dear?”
“Would you like to cool off?” taunted the other woman, a brunette.
“Please.. For the love of God…” The man cried. “Please have mercy—”
The redhead flicked her fingers, and the flames roared even higher.
As he screamed hysterically, the women burst out laughing.
The grass by Seymour’s feet stirred, and words appeared in the shadows.
THeY SEEM LOVELY
NOT
“Yeah, maybe we should go over here,” Seymour mumbled from the side of his mouth.
“Go where?” Sariel asked quietly.
“Anywhere away from the fuckin’ fire.”
“I agree,” Day hissed. “I do not wish to see either of you set on fire—”
“Oh! Hello!” the brunette greeted them. “You must be lost.”
“I suppose you could say that, ma’am.” Seymour tipped his head politely and tried to ignore the man’s screaming. “We’re, uh, tryin’ to find our way back to the human world. Any help would be mighty appreciated.”
“Aw, such manners!” the brunette cooed.
“It is so refreshing to meet a young man with manners.” The redhead smiled sweetly.
“Very polite.”
“Yes, so polite.” The redhead shook her head. “But you’ll need help to get back. Maybe one of the princes would assist you.”
“Yes,” the brunette agreed. “One of the princes.”
Seymour forced a smile. “You know, you two kinda talk like them princes.”
“Oh?” the redhead asked, her brow raised.
“Yes, ma’am.” Seymour really hoped he hadn’t accidentally said something insulting. He did not want to be set on fire. He really, really did not.
“You’ll have to be more specific.” The redhead laughed. “This is Faerie, you know. You do know you’re in Faerie, don’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am. I sure do.”
“There are many princes here. Dozens of them. Is there a particular set you were thinking of?”
“Bridget will know them!” the brunette said with a proud smile. “She knows all the royal families! She makes all of their clothing. King Zolrya himself said she was a remarkable talent.”
“Oh, come now, Abby!” Bridget blushed. “They don’t want to hear about all that now.” She swatted playfully at Abby and gave Seymour a wink. “If I start talking, you’re likely to end up here forever!”
“Wow!” Seymour croaked out a laugh. “As much as I would love to, uh, stick ’round here and chat about clothing and all that, I really need to get my friends here some help. Is there any chance you know Prince Absolis and Prince Vilanos?”
“Two of my favorite clients!” Bridget grinned wide. “Here, I will fetch them for you! I’m sure they’ll be able to set things right.”
As she searched around the table for something, the burning man finally collapsed and went silent. The dirt he’d been digging up flowed back into the hole in a massive wave, burying him in seconds.
Yeah, not freaky at all.
The man appeared standing at the foot of the hole, shovel in hand, but he was not currently on fire. He looked around, his eyes wide with terror, and he stared at Seymour. “Help me,” he whispered urgently. “Please. Please, please, please—”
“Shush you,” Bridget warned, still fumbling between plates. “Ah! Here we go!” She held a silver bell and gave it a quick ring. “There. They should be along shortly.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Seymour kept his smile in place and tried not to make eye contact with the man. “Should, uh… Is he all right? Does he need something? ’Cause he keeps starin’ at me.”
“Oh? Him?” Abby laughed. “Trust me. He’s getting exactly what he deserves.”
“I didn’t know!” the man screamed. “I thought she’d been taken! I thought she was a changeling! I tried to—”
“You tortured me, burned me, and left me in a shallow grave. You can fuck right off.” Bridget rolled her eyes and flicked her fingers.
The man caught fire again and sobbed, shakily lifting the shovel to once again dig at the earth in front of him while Abby and Bridget laughed.
Seymour had a lot of questions but he dared not ask a single one.
There wasn’t time anyway—Absolis and Vilanos appeared before them and neither looked very happy.
They had on no makeup, no jewelry, and not a single flower between them.
While still quite beautiful, Seymour didn’t think he could have ever imagined seeing them without all the window dressing they liked to pack on.
They looked at Seymour, Sariel, Shiloh, back to Seymour, then to Shiloh again. They exchanged a sour sneer, glared at Seymour, and snapped in perfect unison, “What in the fuck?”
“Yeah, about that.”