“I’m glad someone around here is listening to me!” Emily said.
Kate tightened her gloves and cracked her knuckles.
“We have time,” she said.
“What?” Titus said.
“We’re not leaving a bunch of alien teddy bears to be slaughtered by ninjas and clowns,” Kate said. “I am the least sentimental person on Earth and even I can’t live with myself if that happens.”
“Are we really fighting undead ninjas and clowns?” Billy said.
“I’m in,” Bedlam said. “Man, I am so in.”
“Okay,” Billy said. “Just checking. I can get behind this plan.”
“This is, okay, y’know what, let’s do this thing,” Jane said. “Call it a group bonding experience.”
“Can I have a laser sword too?” Billy said.
Emily unclipped a spare hilt from her belt and tossed it to him. He ignited it, and a massive grin split his face.
“Let’s go evil clown hunting,” he said.
“Does anyone else hear music from Les Miserables playing?” Bedlam asked.
“Titus?” Jane said.
“I’m not going to be the only one who turns down the chance to live out Emily’s greatest fantasy,” Titus said. “But I have one request.”
“Ask it, fuzzy one,” Emily said.
“I want the dragon to airdrop me into the fight like a werewolf bomb,” Titus said.
“That, my dog-like friend, can be arranged,” Emily said.
“All right,” Jane said. “I’ll take those three hundred Laser Ninjas over there.”
Emily beamed down at her friends from atop her blue dragon. She pointed her laser sword at the oncoming horde of undead ninjas, like a general gesturing at a battlefield with a saber.
“I am so very proud of you,” she said. “Let’s win this war. For Entropia!”
Chapter 45: Why is Old Man Teddy Ruxpin talking to us
They walked from the fog of battle onto Westwick’s ghostly Main Street, nary a sign of ninja or battle corgi in sight. Jane took stock of her team and saw everyone was whole and uninjured, as if the great battle for Entropia had never happened.
Of course it hadn’t, she reminded herself. Nothing is real here, right?
“We will never speak of that again,” Kate said, stretching her back and cracking her neck.
“We will speak of that always,” Billy said. “That was the most amazing thing we’ve ever done.”
“My dreams are the best, you guys,” Emily said.
Jane sat down on a nearby bench, because Westwick was apparently one of those types of suburbs with nice benches available in its downtown.
“I just don’t understand why that was how we got out of Emily’s dream,” she said. “Everyone else had to overcome some sort of psychological trauma.”
“We all had to overcome a conflict in the dream somehow,” Titus said. “In Em’s, that conflict was a fan fiction mashup battle.”
“Alternately, I bet if we had convinced Emily she wasn’t actually the Lord Commander of Dragonperch and had real-world responsibilities we might have also got ourselves out of there,” Bedlam suggested.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Billy said.
“I didn’t say that was the preferable option,” Bedlam said. “I’m just saying it might have maybe been an alternative one.”
“Can we get back on task?” Kate said.
Jane nodded.
“First thing, we’ve got to find Doc,” she said.
And that was the moment they realized abruptly they weren’t alone.
“You are the allies of Doctor Silence?” A grizzled but friendly voice said. The entire team turned in unison to look to the source of that voice.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Bedlam said.
The speaker was a teddy bear, armed for battle, one eye covered in an eyepatch. He sat astride a white unicorn like a warhorse. Perched on his shoulder was a tiny fairy dressed in a pink shift. Standing, or more accurately floating, at their side was a humanoid shadow with glowing eyes.
“Why is Old Man Teddy Ruxpin talking to us?” Billy said.
“We’ve been sent to help you,” the bear said. “I am Sir Teddy. This is Silverhoof, Galinda, and Gloomly.”
“Of course you are,” Kate said.
“You know Doc?” Jane said. It had been the most absurd day of her already absurd life; somehow talking to a teddy bear with a broadsword wasn’t particularly hard to roll with.
“We encountered your wizard. He was on his way to help our ruler, Queen Alice,” the bear said. “He is trapped.”
“We knew that part,” Titus said.
“I—y’know, hang on,” Jane said, producing the mirror form her pocket. She spoke into it. “Doc, can you hear me?”
Doc appeared in the mirror, still in the darkened cell they’d last seen him.
“I’m still here,” Doc said. “How are you progressing?”
“We’re in the, um, general area,” Jane said. “Any suggestions for what to do next?”
“Here’s what I know,” Doc said. “Alice is being manipulated by a malignant entity. I have a few ideas about how to fix that, but I need to get out of this cell.”
“Okay, storm the dungeon,” Emily said.
“No, no storming the dungeon,” Doc said. “Did you guys encounter your own nightmares here already?”
“Yeah,” Titus muttered.
“Do I even want to know what yours looked like, Emily?” Doc asked.
“Why, specifically, are you concerned about mine?” Emily said with mock indignation.
“Because he has a pretty good handle on what the rest of us are afraid of, because he’s Doc,” Kate said. “None of us know what you’re afraid of.”
“Did the brilliant strategist just admit she can’t parse me out?” Emily said.
“I gave up ages ago,” Kate said, immediately redirecting the conversation. “How do we get you out of that cell, Doc? We should mention we have a talking a bear, a unicorn, a pixie, and what looks like a floating blanket with us who say they know you.”
“Good,” Doc said. “They’re on our side. You can trust them.”
“All for the good of the kingdom,” Sir Teddy said, nodding sagely.
“Okay, I think we’re all feeling a little freaked out and manic. The cell, Doc?” Jane said.
“The cell. I figured out how to get out. It’s a very simple spell, but I need someone with at least rudimentary knowledge of magic on the other side to cast it,” he said.
Kate and Titus exchanged a long look, hers annoyed, his vaguely sheepish.
“I’m here, Doc,” Titus said.
“Great. This is nothing you won’t be able to handle, but I’ll have to walk you through it,” Doc said.
The shadow-man drifted forward and bowed.
“I journeyed with Doctor Silence to the dungeon,” he said, his voice strangely formal and deep. He sounded like a friendly version of Professor Snape. “I can guide you there. I should warn you that it might be difficult for the entire group to sneak in undetected, though.”
“We’ll go,” Kate said, gesturing to Titus and herself. “This is sort of our thing anyway. We have experience with jailbreaks.”
Titus let out a short laugh.
“I can’t believe we really do have experience with jailbreaks,” he said. “Not that the last one went particularly well.”
“The other thing we need for this spell to work is for the dark entity manipulating Alice to be distracted,” Doc said. “It calls itself the Vizier. It’s not all-powerful, obviously, because it’s acting like a parasite off Alice’s magic. But it would help if the creature was preoccupied while we cast it.”
“So, assault the castle?” Emily asked.
“How about we try talking?” Jane said.
“Six people here, and I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who anyone would reason with,” Billy said.
“So I’ll go. Present myself as a tra
veler,” Jane said. “Get them talking for a few minutes. That should be enough to confuse them, right?”
“Possibly,” Doc said. “The Vizier is suspicious and paranoid, but Alice built this world and he knows it, and she’s curious about newcomers. In the very least, you’ll get an audience.”
“We can take you,” Sir Teddy said. “She has rejected us as her companions, but she’ll at least open the gates if we arrive, I think.”
“Are we all going, then?” Bedlam asked. “Or do the rest of us, like, hang back in reserve?”
The fairy whispered in the bear’s ear, who looked up at her curiously, then gestured at the group.
“Go on, tell them, then, Galinda,” he said.
“There is a group of monsters we’ve never seen before moving toward the castle as well,” the fairy said, her voice comically musical.
“Define monsters,” Billy said.
The fairy threw up her arms.
“Okay, then,” Billy said. “That was helpful. Why don’t I go scout out the monsters to see what we’re actually dealing with.”
“I’ll come,” Bedlam said.
“Me too,” Emily said.
“No, you’re with me,” Jane said. “Because if I can’t reach the queen through words, you can try to confuse the Vizier.”
“Confusion is not one of my superpowers,” Emily said.
“Yes, it is,” Titus said.
“Fine,” Emily said. “But can I ride on the unicorn?”
“That would be fine, miss,” Sir Teddy said. The unicorn whinnied agreeably as well.
“This continues to be the greatest day of my life,” Emily said. “I never want to go home.”
The fairy landed on Billy’s shoulder and took a proprietary seat.
“I’ll guide you to the monsters,” Galinda said. “We can stay at a distance. I was able to spy on them without being seen. I’ll show you how.”
Jane held up the mirror so Doc could see most of the group behind her.
“You okay with this plan, Doc?” she said.
“Sounds like a great plan that will inevitably come apart at the seams, as always,” Doc said. “I’ll see you soon.”
Jane pocketed the mirror. Billy looped a shoulder under Bedlam’s arm and lifted off, the fairy still perched on his shoulder.
“Well this is new and different,” Bedlam said, holding onto Billy with both arms.
“We’ll be like Superman and Lois,” Billy said.
“Okay, Lois,” Bedlam said.
As they took off, Titus and Kate began to follow the shadow-man toward the castle.
“Good luck,” Titus said.
“You too, furball,” Emily said, hopping up onto the unicorn’s back.
“How could any of this possibly go wrong,” Jane said, patting the unicorn’s long, graceful neck as they started off along the most direct route to the castle in the distance.
Chapter 46: Middle management for monsters
The graveyard wasn’t particularly scary, Keppler thought. Not scary at all, really, if you could discount the fact that it was under a crimson-colored sky. Otherwise, it looked like any other graveyard a small city or larger town might have—well-manicured, tidy, with neat rows of expensive headstones and a healthy cover of green grass. The only thing scary about this graveyard, he thought, was the crowd of magically mutated creatures standing around waiting, and those guys showed up with him.
King Tears seemed satisfied by the graveyard, though, eyeing the expanse of open space and nodding.
“This will do,” he said.
“This will do what?” Keppler asked.
“The creatures I created will be our greatest weapons, but we need fodder,” the magician said. “Troops we can throw away in the coming fight. And what better fodder than those who are already dead?”
Keppler’s stomach knotted up. He wasn’t a sentimental person, but the implication Tears made had him feeling a little queasy.
“You’re going to raise the dead… here?” Keppler said.
“A corpse is a corpse,” King Tears said, grinning wickedly at Keppler’s discomfort. “I don’t see the problem.”
‘This isn’t some medieval crypt,” Keppler said. “These are real people. You’re going to use someone’s dead grandmother as a weapon?”
The smile faded from King Tears’ face. He turned to Keppler solemnly.
“You didn’t strike me as a soft touch,” King Tears said. “Well, honestly, you did, but not this badly.”
“This just doesn’t feel right.”
King Tears sighed, real exhaustion in his tenor.
“Mr. Keppler, you work for a multinational corporation that has been run with a lack of ethics that even the usual multinational corporation’s lack of ethics would find appalling,” he said. “You get your 401(k) and bonus package from people who spent decades experimenting on lost kids. You think the experiments that occurred most recently were dark? At least they had access to modern painkillers. The Children of the Elder Star is an old, old organization. They have literally used medieval torture techniques, and not just in the Middle Ages.”
King Tears casually waved his hand this way and that, casting wordless spells like they were just off-hand gestures. Keppler felt the earth beneath him tremble slightly.
“Your employer has promoted war for profit and instability. They have destabilized economies so that some of their members could gain power and wealth. They’ve allowed families to starve, sometimes to save money, other times to provoke action by those who would be saviors just so that the attention of those saviors was diverted while the Children of the Elder Star engaged in some activity even more heinous they did not want to be noticed.”
A hand burst free from beneath a nearby grave. Then another. Soon, the perfectly cut grass over each grave was torn asunder by the grimy, blackened skin of a zombie dressed in funeral finery.
“Your employers hired people like me to poison villages so they could obtain rights to gold or diamond mines. They hired other magicians to cause disruptive weather to kill thousands so that the land those unfortunate victims were on would need to be rebuilt, under corporate ownership. They have no interest in the sanctity or value of human life if they can profit from it. And the sad part is, they are no different than any number of other cabalistic organizations—they just have access to flashier tools, and admit what they are amongst themselves.”
The zombies shambled toward King Tears now, gaits awkward and gawky, eyes empty sockets filled with dirt and decay. King Tears pointed an accusatory finger at Keppler.
“The Children of the Elder Star groomed mediocre men like you to take their places, raised you up for no reason other than they want someone just like them to continue their traditions forever and ever, waiting for whatever stupid myth or birthright they think they have ownership over. I took great pleasure in watching that belief system rot their organization from the inside out even as I took their money and gifts.”
“I…” Keppler said, unsure what else to say. The smell of rot was overwhelming.
“I became a magician because the Children of the Elder Star destroyed my home. I became a blood magician because it was the fastest and most efficient way to power. And I took the Children’s contracts because it was a way to leech back what they stole from me,” King Tears said. “I have no sentimentality for the dead. Everything in this world is a tool to be used. You, me, these corpses, the mutated peons all around us. There is no right or wrong. There is only those who win and those who suffer.”
Keppler bowed his head, unsure if King Tears would order the zombies to tear him apart or not. He waited. Nothing happened.
“Don’t moralize at me, Keppler,” King Tears said. “You were a middle manager for monsters. You don’t get to decide good or evil.”
“Of course,” Keppler said.
“That’s the problem with this world. Quantifying evil. As if one kind of selfishness or cruelty is more socially acceptable than another,” Ki
ng Tears said. “Anyone can talk themselves into believing something selfish or monstrous or cruel is acceptable if it benefits them. If you want to get ahead in this world, Keppler, you need to accept that power comes not from finding a way to see your worst deeds as necessary for the common good, or lesser on a sliding scale of terrible things. Accept that you do evil because it benefits you and it becomes so much easier to do the things you need to do to get ahead. Consider this a lesson in an economy of ethics. Don’t waste your time trying to feel better about wronging people. Feel better knowing that wronging people will make you stronger than them.”
King Tears walked away, his dead and living servants following in his wake. Keppler followed as well, more convinced than ever he knew however this story ended, and it would not end well for him.
Chapter 47: A wrong of our own making
Lady Dreamless entered Westwick easily, her connection to the magic used to create the pocket dimension so strong it was as though there were no barrier between the worlds.
The transition was not without impact, though. As she stepped through, she shed the appearance she had worn on Earth, the coy movie star shell disappearing as her true form rose to the surface. Her skin faded to the color of pearl, silvery and gleaming. Her body was veined in glowing lines of red, the pattern of marble. Her hair became a shock of bright red as well, unnaturally so, not ginger but spikes of neon vermillion. Her eyes began to glow brightly from within, also red. Her fingertips elongated, almost like talons. She passed a hand over her human clothing, and they rippled as they morphed into a thin, soft tunic that fell just above her knees.
A tail sprung into existence at the base of her spine, prehensile, and tipped like a devil’s.
Her demon hounds underwent similar transformations, shedding their Great Dane illusions to become hulking war beasts. Gone was the warm, slobbering wholesomeness of ordinary dogs. In its place, lantern-like eyes flickered all around like searchlights and massive jaws slathered, highlighted by massive fangs. The hounds flanked their master like an honor guard.
The Indestructibles (Book 5): The Crimson Child Page 22