The Fountain of Eden: A Myth of Birth, Death, and Beer
Page 29
Chapter 29
It Was A Dark and Stormy Night
As thunderheads massed on the twilit horizon like troops before the assault, a meeting was taking place before Pasture & Gout's Apothecary on Duke of Gobstopper Street in downtown Eden.
“We shall split up into teams,” said Sir Arthur. “Huckleberry, Joe, Ben, take the eastern half of town around the college. Master Mirbodi and Mister Lotus will patrol downtown Eden and surrounding environs. Myself and Promo shall cover the west side of town, keeping an especially close eye on Tranquil Forest. The fire marshal, due to pressing business regarding tonight's curfew, could not make this meeting, but I assure you that he is in good health. I am scheduled to meet him shortly.
“Destroy all beings of the Underworld on sight. Thus far we are aware of only the harpies, but there may be other . . . things coming through the sipapuni quite soon. I have briefed Huck on what monsters you may encounter this evening, and he will fill you in, Joe and Ben, as you go. Master Mirbodi, I know that you are quite familiar with the Greek Underworld and the various hell-beings contained therein, and I assume you will do the same for your cringing novice there.”
Master Mirbodi smiled and nodded. Sitting Lotus shuddered and cringed a bit more at the thought of what demons and devils he might be crossing paths with tonight.
Sir Arthur lit a hand-rolled cigarette and grinned through a cloud of smoke. He had dressed for the occasion, wearing an ancient but well-kept tuxedo and a shining black top hat, accentuated by gleaming black shoes and a stylish cane of polished black wood.
“Everybody ready, then?” He peered around at the gathering with a serious look in his eyes, then nodded. “Right, then. Let's send some hellspawn back where they belong.”
“Yes, but won't the residents of Eden be in danger?” asked Sitting Lotus, concerned over the possibility of harm coming to his fellow townsmen at the hands—or terrible fangs and claws and hellfire, rather—of mythical monsters and dark gods far beyond their ability to understand, much less acknowledge the existence of.
“It's possible.” Sir Arthur took a long pull from his smoke and exhaled. “As I mentioned, there is a town-wide curfew in effect, and none but those who know the codeword are permitted on the streets of Eden until sunrise, due to the quite severe tornadoes expected in the area overnight. We are expecting thunderstorms, but no cyclones, as the public had been led to believe. The Eden Fire Department will be out and about town, along with the Eden Police Department in their patrol-cars, but this will be the only motor traffic on the streets. If the law flags you down, just say 'It sure is a dark and stormy night, huh?' and they'll leave you be. I don't know how our good friend Captain Promo got this curfew imposed—fire-bringer mind tricks, perhaps?—but he did us a huge favor, for this will most likely—I repeat, most likely, so stay wary and remain vigilant—prevent our missing Tricksters, wherever they may be holed up, from making a move.”
Sir Arthur snubbed out his cigarette on the sole of a polished shoe. “The human residents of Eden and the visiting tourists should be safe within their homes and hotels. The citizens of this small town have seen this kind of thing before, and even though the vast majority of them aren't capable of consciously remembering it, their subconscious memory of supernatural happenings will kick in. Human beings are quite resourceful when it comes to dealing with things like this, and the experienced Edenites will help the tourists as needed.”
Sir Arthur rested his cane on the apothecary door and pulled two ancient but polished revolvers from his coat pockets like an English gentleman turned gunslinger from the days of the Wild West. He tossed the weapons from hand to hand, spinning them around his fingers before they vanished with a flourish back into his suit-coat. He grinned as he raised his cane, and a gleaming blade flicked forth from its tip.
“Shoot all beings of the ancient Greek Hell World on sight, and shoot to kill. Each team leader has a walkie-talkie, so don't hesitate to call if you need backup. Let's try to stay organized amidst the chaos that is sure to ensue tonight. Now go, my friends—and happy harpy hunting!”
The detective spun on his heels, coattails twirling, and was gone, marching west down Colonial Towne Road as though late to Queen's Victoria's own Ball.
As the sun dipped below the tree-line, the remaining members of Team Real went their separate ways. The clouds thickened above, and an unseasonably cold rain began to fall. A bolt of lightning lit the sky with the requisite thunder trailing behind, and the distant screech of harpies came to their ears.
And it was now a dark and stormy, demon- and devil-filled night.