Chapter Thirty-Six Wilde
Almost Showtime
The Lord of Grimnight’s Evil Lair
Final Preparations
The heavy musk of sex still clouded my bedroom when I teleported into it.
A soft flush touched my cheeks, and my body ached at the lingering memory.
It’d been different than the first time, in ways I hadn’t expected.
Not only because I was the receiver, but because when I’d opened my eyes, Treasure had still been there.
I wanted to stop time to enjoy him for a while longer, but I needed to conserve my strength for the fight ahead.
I’d dressed in casual clothes when I’d dropped Trey off, but I needed to change into something more imposing before the show began.
I opened my wardrobe and stared at the black options available.
I hadn’t worn black in front of the royal champions, hoping to avoid jogging any of their memories.
What memories they’d already maintained were troublesome enough.
Now I had to find something imposing that also obscured my identity.
I picked out a black waistcoat and ran my thumb over the embroidery. The thread was also black, so the details needed to be felt more than seen. Not ideal for a loud, obnoxious presentation, but the thought of Treasure running his hands over my chest made up my mind.
The black cloak I chose weighed heavier on my shoulders than I remembered.
As soon as I’d pulled the hood up, I grimaced as my peripheral vision narrowed.
During my apprenticeship, I prioritized aesthetics over practicality because so many evil professionals refused to take anyone seriously without them.
After months of wearing more comfortable civilian clothing, I wondered why I’d ever bothered trying to impress them.
Once dressed, I needed to prepare the minions for the champions’ arrival. Remind them of their roles and help them polish their acting skills. Teleporting to the throne room would have been easier, but it would have also cost more energy. Besides, I had hours before anyone arrived—I could walk.
I opened my bedroom door and stared in surprise at the guard standing outside of it—an orc, this time. “What are you doing here?” More importantly, how long had he been standing there, and how much had he heard?
The orc straightened to attention. “Guarding your rooms, my liege.”
“I’ve already said I don’t need my rooms guarded. You should be patrolling or—” I waved my hand vaguely “—standing menacingly somewhere.”
“I know you wanted us to be seen, your lordship, but Captain assigned me here after the adventurers began snooping around.”
I stared at him, hoping he’d gotten the order of events wrong. “You mean that your captain assigned you here before the adventurers arrive in case they snoop around, right?”
The orc’s brow furrowed as he processed the question and all its italics. “The adventurers arrived yesterday.”
“What do you mean—they can’t have. I’ve been with them the whole time.”
“Not sure how to be any clearer. A group of four adventurers arrived at the lair, wanting to speak with you or your apprentice. We told them you weren’t in, and that you didn’t have an apprentice, so they asked to wait.”
Five years living in the lair, and not a single adventurer had ever made it to our front door. Even the royal champions wouldn’t have succeeded without help. How did an unrelated quest wind up at my door at the exact wrong moment?
“Where are the adventurers now?” I didn’t like the idea of strangers roaming around my lair.
The best way to deal with them would have been to reset time to before they arrived, meet them at the door and scare them off.
But if I did that, there was no guarantee everything would proceed the same way.
No guarantee that last night would happen again.
If I couldn’t deal with them then, I’d have to deal with them now.
“Not sure. I chased one off—crusty old fellow going through a midlife crisis—yesterday but haven’t seen any today.”
Why did the man’s midlife crises have to involve a quest of all things?
“Mimsy!” I shouted.
A green blur zoomed through the corridor and smacked straight into my chest. “Master Wilde, how did we do?” it asked, clinging onto me. Its wings fluttered in excitement, and it beamed as it waited for praise.
“You did adequately,” I said, patting its head.
Mimsy turned and shouted at the top of its lungs. “We did adequately!”
Bitsy and Bop cheered from somewhere down the hall.
“Where is the other group of adventurers?” I asked.
“Somewhere,” Mimsy replied unhelpfully.
The orc poked Mimsy with the side of his club. The imp floated leisurely to the left without seeming to notice. “Be more specific, imp.”
“Well, how should I know! They keep moving. First, they were in the throne room, but that gets boring after a while because there’s nothing to look at, not even a throne anymore.
Next, they went to Princess Delilah’s room, since it’s on the first floor and you told us to keep them away from the stairs.
But that also doesn’t have much to look at because she was hardly here, so they got bored of that too.
Then they went around the city, interviewing people.
Don’t worry, Master, all of us told them how great and terrible you are. ”
I sighed. If they were as convincing as they’d been with the royal champions, no wonder the adventurers had stuck around. I’d underestimated the benefits of a genuinely fearsome reputation. “Is that where they are now?”
“I don’t know.”
“Bring a message to Captain Fyodor and Captain Sisyph,” I ordered. “Round up the adventurers and herd them into the throne room. I’ll deal with them there.”
Mimsy saluted crookedly and flew down the corridor, grabbing Bitsy and Bop on the way.
“You baby them too much,” the orc scolded.
I glared at him, then remembered I was wearing a hood that blocked my face. I raised it a few inches so he could appreciate the glare.
He straightened and said, “My apologies, your dark eminence. I spoke out of turn.” That should have been the end of it, but he added, “But they’re fiends, you know. Not pets or children. Names like ‘Mimsy’ don’t suit them.”
“They named themselves.”
That revelation stumped him into silence.
With uninvited adventurers running about, I left him to guard the upstairs floor.
After the curse broke, the forest stopped trying to overtake the lair.
That didn’t mean the trees and other plant growth disappeared overnight.
I expected the stairs to be the same tripping hazard they’d always been, but some of the minions had taken it upon themselves to clean.
All that remained was a bit of ivy wrapped around the rail and some sprouts tucked into the corners of each step.
It was a long walk downstairs, and I regretted my decision not to teleport. I’d thought hiking through the woods for the past few days would give me better stamina. Perhaps that would have been the case if I hadn’t spent half the night with Treasure.
I paused halfway down the second flight of stairs to catch my breath. This is simply embarrassing. Once the royal champions ‘defeated’ me, I would have to take up a new exercise regime, in case I needed to play the villain again in the future.
The cloak wasn’t helping. The whole thing captured heat and kept it close to my body. And I couldn’t take it off or the adventurers would see my red, sweaty face—the worst possible first impression. The minute my uninvited guests left, I’d wash up and change into something more breathable.
Two guards stood at the base of the stairs, one lacertian and one orc. As I stepped between them, they flanked me on either side, walking exactly one step behind me.
The captains themselves waited outside of the throne room. Fyodor carried a huge club over one shoulder while Sisyph held a spear at the ready.
“According to the imps, these aren’t the right adventurers,” Fyodor said.
I nodded sharply. “I didn’t expect two groups at the same time.”
“What’s the plan?” Sisyph asked, his scaled face pinched with displeasure. “Incompetence? Intimidation? Fight to the death?”
Fyodor’s tusks framed his wicked smile. “I could use a good fight.”
Killing adventurers probably went against Delilah’s plan to turn me ‘good’ through the power of love and friendship. “Intimidation only. If they get out of hand, I’ll deal with them.” I always had the option to remove them from the dimension, though I would prefer it if they left on their own.
The captains bowed their heads in acceptance, though I caught a shared look between them. Judging my decision or silently plotting a backup plan between themselves? Hopefully the latter. I didn’t have time to squash a mutiny before the royal champions arrived.
I nodded to Fyodor to open the door. He and Sisyph counted to three under their breaths, then threw the doors open. They joined me as I strode into the room so that four guards flanked me, spreading out into a V shape.
I had a few seconds to observe the adventurers before they reacted to my presence.
Two men and two women, an even mix. I immediately knew which one the guard had deterred—an old man with black paint all over his face and a scraggly beard.
Both women had black hair, though one was bronze while the other was pale.
Both were dressed in fashion better suited for a ballroom than a quest. The bronze woman was dressed head to toe in pink.
The pale woman was dressed in a mix of dark blues and purples.
She leaned her head against the other man’s shoulder, her arms tightly wound through his.
Her loving smile promised hidden mischief.
The last man I recognized, and his presence made me stop short. Dark hair liberally streaked with silver, slicked back into a stylish tousle. A well-kept gray beard framed his mouth, ending in a perfectly trimmed point.
The Prince of Shadows.
Why are ‘adventurers’ traveling with an evil mage? Then again, the royal champions spent a week with me without knowing my identity. Perhaps it was the same here.
“Why do you seek the Lord of Grimnight?” Fyodor’s booming voice echoed through the throne room. My former master, who’d spent weeks trying and failing for a similar effect, would have fumed in jealousy.
The old man stepped forward and jabbed an accusing finger at me. “You are not the Lord of Grimnight! You are only a rogue apprentice meddling with magic beyond your comprehension! This—” he fumbled in his cloak “—is the Lord of—” patted down his pants. “Where … where did it go?”
“Looking for something?” the prince drawled, pulling a pink tower crystal from his own pocket.
The old man’s eyes widened, and he lunged for the crystal. “Give that back! That is property of the Good Wizard’s Council!”
I narrowed my eyes, trying to see beyond the black face paint and hair dye.
The only time I’d met the ‘Good Wizard’ was when I’d stopped him from interfering with the master’s plot.
Since wizards were tricky adversaries, I hadn’t bothered to face him in open challenge.
I’d snuck up on him from behind and knocked him out.
He looked different enough without the trappings of his profession that I probably wouldn’t have recognized him even without the disguise.
The prince smiled at the Good Wizard. “Property of a council, yes, but not your council.” Shadows wrapped around the crystal, and it disappeared. He could have done that at any time without the Good Wizard noticing. He’d done it now to make a point.
Fury made the Good Wizard’s eye twitch, and he whirled around to face me again. “Your master is imprisoned, that’s all that matters! Your evil plot ends here!”