Note: read “Sweater Safe Than Sorry”, “Jester 'nother Day” and “Dragon Quest” Part XXI first.
BZZ-BZZ-BZZ-BZZ-BZZ
I wake up, quickly turning the alarm clock off before it wakes Electra up too, seeing that it’s about 7 AM.
Now that I’m not dealing with constant itchiness, I can afford to sleep in, but I don’t like waking up too late in the morning.
That, and a certain burning skeleton made another appearance in my dreams.
As I get out of bed, clad in only a T-shirt and boxers, I look at one corner of the room, seeing Electra still fast asleep in a rainbow-colored fluffy bed, hugging a plushie of a man I used to despise, and the sweater I owe my nickname to hanging over a chair.
I stumble out of my bedroom, rubbing my eyes as I walk into the bathroom, turning towards the sink.
“I would like to spend ten points on…”
Then I realize that I’m talking to a completely ordinary bar of soap again, and I facepalm.
“Damnit! I gotta stop doing that.”
Yeah, it’s me again. Jeff. Ugly Sweater Guy. Hi.
It’s only been a few days since you last saw me, and I’m making progress towards leaving Detroit behind.
Found someone to buy the house. Finally.
I’m pretty sure a lot of prospective buyers ended up turning down buying the place because of the inexplicable snowman in the front garden.
I pointed this out to Chaos, and he obliged me. He said he moved the snowman to the planet he renovated into a vacation home. He couldn’t bring himself to destroy it.
After that, finding a buyer became a lot easier.
And as for the car situation?
Well, I’m not gonna be selling the car after all.
See, Cal’s coming by later, with something that he said would make the trip out of Detroit a breeze.
He didn’t go into specifics, he just said that it’s something the Nerd Squad developed.
He’s not seriously gonna give me one of those teleporter doohickeys, is he?
You’re probably wondering why we don’t just take the Tele-Port out of Detroit.
I looked it up, and apparently, Detroit doesn’t have one of those things. I think the closest Tele-Port to Detroit in America is in Indianapolis?
Or we could just drive to Toronto, but I’m not sure if my passport is still valid.
I’m… also not really sure how they deal with that whole situation in the Tele-Ports. I mean, you’ve seen how fervently America protects its borders, right?
So even if we decide to go that route, we’re still looking at another road trip. A shorter road trip than the trip here, but nonetheless.
Does that Dehak guy know about Tele-Ports?
They probably don’t have any portals that lead to that Drakonia place.
How do you even get there?
Y’know what, I’ll ask Cal later.
After showering, I head back into the bedroom with naught but a towel around my waist, but as I walk over to the dresser, the towel falls down, exposing me.
Whoops. I knew it wasn’t tied tightly enough.
Then, to make matters worse, that’s when Electra wakes up.
“Mownin, Jeff–”
And unfortunately, the first thing she sees is my naked, damp ass.
“Gaaa-aaah! Put sum cwothies awn, Jeff!”
I turn around, seeing her looking away, her front hooves over her eyes.
“Nu, yu jus made it eben wowse!”
I blush, covering my junk with my hands.
“Uh, sorry about that. I’m working on it, so maybe go wait in the hallway.”
She clambers out of bed, muttering to herself as she waddles out of the room.
“Dat nu am how Ewectwa wan-ed tu stawt da bwite time… nao Ewectwa am weawwy miss-in da safewoom in da hotew…”
I pull a clean pair of fluffy print boxers out of a drawer.
“Yeah, I’m not enjoying this either. Relax, you aren’t the first fluffy who has seen my junk.”
Remember all those fluffies I pissed on in my abuser days?
To those poor fluffies, it must have looked like the floppy finger of a wrathful god, about to dispense wet yellow divine justice that smells like asparagus.
I mean, human men have it a lot better than fluffy stallions in that department.
“But again, I’m sorry. Don’t go too close to the stairs, alright?”
“Af-tuw wut Ewectwa jus saw, faww-in down da staiwsies nu seem su bad.”
“Ha.”
I pull the boxers on and turn around, seeing Electra sitting just outside the bedroom, facing away from me.
“Okay, I’ve got some underwear on, my junk isn’t hanging out, so you can look.”
“Dat am nu much bettah den weaw-in nuffin.”
“Is it? I mean, if we were at the swimming pool, I’d be wearing nothing but trunks, and no one complains about that, do they?”
“…Yu knu, dat am a gud point.”
“Yeah, people are weird like that. Just be glad that I’m not a Speedo kinda guy, Electra.”
“Yuh, otay, it cud be wowse.”
As I select a T-shirt from the closet, Electra waddles back in.
“But see-wee-us-wee, Jeff, nex time, yu gutta wawn Ewectwa.”
I pull the T-shirt on, another step closer to being fully dressed. It’s the shirt I woke up in after Jaws stabbed me.
“Hey, you were still asleep when I woke up, I thought I’d be fully dressed by the time you woke up. And to be fair, you walk around naked all the time.”
Electra grins up at me as I pull my jeans on. I just left those on the floor last night.
“Yus, but dat am now-maw fow fwuffies.”
“Fair enough, girl.”
After putting my socks and sneakers on too, I carry Electra downstairs, the sweater’s sleeves tied around my waist.
A bit tighter than the towel was. Ever since my run-in with the… the Rider, I’ve made sure that the sweater is always close by. It already saved my ass once.
And this might sound a bit silly, but I’ve come to feel like this hideous sweater of mine is as much a part of this team as Electra is.
Now that I think about it, so is the car. Hey, after the whole road trip, it would be kind of a dick move to just sell it off.
That whole “you’ve outlived your usefulness” thing seems like a Dehak kinda move.
I’ve had Cal tell me a few stories, and y’know, Dehak sounds like he’s the sort of villain who, were we living in a Disney movie, would have his own big bombastic musical number about how shamelessly, gleefully evil he is. He sounds like a Saturday morning cartoon villain without any pesky censors holding him back.
Good thing we’re not in a Disney movie, or a Saturday morning cartoon.
Sure feels like we are, sometimes.
Once we’re on the ground floor, I put Electra down, and we make our way through the living room, into the kitchen.
And we find Chaos sitting at the dining table, in milkman form, sipping a rainbow-colored mug of coffee, addressing us in the cheerful, flamboyant voice he uses the most.
“Mornin’, you two! Thought I’d help you start the day, just made a fresh brew, help yourself.”
I pull a mug out of a cupboard and pour myself a cup of coffee. I usually take my coffee black.
Once I taste it…
Well, I’ve had my fair share of shitty coffee in my life, but this?
This might be the best coffee I’ve ever tasted.
“Oh, that’s that good shit! What kinda coffee is this, Chaos?”
“It’s Victor’s coffee. He has a coffee bean guy, gets 'em straight from Columbeeyah!”
“Wait, the same coffee that Liquid Insomnia stuff is made of?”
I’ve still got most of the vial Cal gave me.
Chaos nods.
“The very same, Jeff. Why, you could probably start a zombie apocalypse by walking into a graveyard and pouring this fine brew on every grave you see.”
“Don’t tell Dehak that.”
“Ha! I won’t.”
“So, uh… you wouldn’t happen to be able to–”
“Sorry, Jeff. Can’t tell anyone where he is now.”
“Ah.”
“Don’t worry, that’s not your fight to win. So you don’t want any milk in that coffee? Or maybe a lump of rancid yak butter? No, wait, yak butter goes better with tea.”
I take another sip, trying to savor every drop.
“I like my coffee black, Chaos. So could you do any kind of milk?”
He nods again.
“Mmm-hmm. If you don’t like yak milk, I could offer you cow milk, goat, sheep, camel, llama, horse, cat, dog, dolphin, whale, or alligator.”
“But… but alligators don’t give milk…”
Chaos chuckles.
“I didn’t say it was easy, Jeff. But I could milk an apple if I felt like it. Or perhaps you’d like to try pigeon milk? It’s an acquired taste…”
Electra waddles over to him.
“Wut abowt fwuffy miwkies?”
He reaches down to stroke her.
“Yknow, it is rather sweet and creamy, so it’s excellent for making ice cream, but after seeing the conditions that some people keep their milkbags in, I just don’t have the heart.”
He takes another sip of his coffee.
“By the way, that pot refills itself, so help yourself to as many refills as you want. Just don’t drink too much, or you won’t be getting a lot of sleep for the next week or so.”
I drain my mug, grabbing a refill.
“I probably shouldn’t let Electra have some, then. Fluffies and caffeine is a combination that can end in tears.”
After taking a sip, I put the mug down on the counter and open the cupboard under the sink, pulling a bag of Flufftopia ÜberFluff kibble out.
“Alright, girl, let’s get you fed and watered. Then I can start making my breakfast.”
As I fill the bowl, Chaos gets up.
“I’ll get out of your hair for now, Jeff. I know that my dearest Harbinger will come a-knockin’ later, so I’ll spare you from having to put up with me and Cal.”
“Yeah, sure. Good talk, Chaos. We’ll see you around.”
“It was, and you will.”
“Bai-bai, mistah Kay-ohs.”
“And bye-bye to you, Electra! Say hi to Cal for me, guys!”
Chaos throws up a peace sign, and fades away.
Once he’s gone, I put the bag of kibble back under the sink, and as Electra chows down, I look in the fridge, and yup, Chaos restocked it for me on the way out again.
“So, what’m I gonna have for breakfast?”
After a hearty breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast, we head back to the living room, sitting on the couch.
Cal said he’d be here at 8, and it’s close to 8 now.
So we turn on the TV, whiling away the minutes by clicking through the channels.
“Man, I really gotta get into streaming, there is nothing worth watching in the morning.”
“Mebbeh we cud git Tee-Eff-Enn, Ewectwa haf bin missin dat tuu.”
When I’m going through the cartoon channels, I pause when I see a very familiar costume.
On the screen, a superhero who looks an awful lot like Cal with a cape and a domino mask is lifting a green car up over his head and slamming it into a large boulder, several men in suits fleeing in terror.
“Huh. Cal’s got his own cartoon?”
“Dis nu seem su bad.”
I pull my phone out of my pocket and do some quick Googling.
“The Adventures of Omega Man, it’s called… apparently Cal doesn’t voice Omega Man himself… makes sense, he’s a busy man.”
Electra watches the cartoon Cal with interest.
“Do you mind? This will take but a few seconds…”
“It sown jus wike him, foh.”
“Yeah, so does that plushie you love so much. I think there’s ChaotiX action figures too. Wouldn’t it be neat if I had an action figure?”
Electra grins at me like she did earlier.
“Su wud it come wif a widdwe pwas-tik swet-uw, ow am dat sowd sep-uh-wat-wee?”
“Haha! You’re in a snarky mood today.”
riiiiing
“Ah, that must be Cal. Scooch over, I gotta get that.”
Electra obliges me, and I get up, heading into the hallway, to the front door, and looking through the peephole.
Yup, it’s Cal, in street clothes, smirking at me.
I open it up, seeing that he’s brought Marley and a purple and green unicorn whose name escapes me right now.
“Hey, Cal. That another of your fluffies?”
Cal nods, gesturing at the unfamiliar stallion.
“This is Piccolo. He’s actually the second fluffy I adopted, the same day as Mar. Pic, say hi to Jeff.”
Piccolo beams up at me, wagging his tail.
“Hewwo, mistah Jeff! Am Piccowo!”
“What can you do, then? You’ve got powers too, right?”
He nods.
“Piccowo gut wubbew powahs. Am in da Wubbew Band.”
“So you can stretch your limbs?”
He does exactly that, rising up to eye level.
“Yup!”
boing!
Then his legs snap back to normal length, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Gotta say, with a name like that, I shouldn’t be surprised. Can you do anything else?”
“Nu. But Piccowo am otay wif dat.”
“So what’s the Rubber Band? Y’know what, come inside and then explain.”
As I lead them into the living room, Cal answers the question.
“The Rubber Band is another of our squads. Andre, Brian, Stretch and Jake are in it too. They all have the same rubber powers, but Jake’s got another power too.”
I groan at the pun.
“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you.”
“For the record, Brian’s the only squad member who hates the name.”
“I guess you gotta be willing to live with puns to be in the ChaotiX. So, uh, can I get you a cup of coffee? Or a beer? It’s a bit early to start drinking, but…”
“Let’s take care of business first.”
As we sit down on the couch, Marley flying onto it, Piccolo stretching onto it, Cal reaches into his bag and pulls out a small case.
“Cards on the table, I was on the fence regarding giving these to you. But I reckoned that you can be trusted with these.”
“What’s in there? One of those… those blippy things?”
He smirks at me.
“They’re called blippers, but no. How about I just show you?”
Then he opens up the case, revealing twenty little black round objects, like marbles, in rows of five.
“These are gonna be on store shelves soon, y’know. It’s gonna be another big game changer.”
He offers me the case, and I take a close look at the contents.
Four of the little spheres have symbols on them. One symbol looks like a house, the second, like a car, the third, like an RV, and the fourth, like what appears to be an airfryer. The rest of them are blank.
“Are these… are these what I think they are?”
Cal nods again.
“Yup. They’re capsules. The symbols are what’s in those things.”
“And one of them has an airfryer in it?”
“Hey, now you can have fries anywhere.”
“That does sound good. So how do these work?”
“Let me give you a demonstration…”
The five us of head back outside, and Cal turns to me.
“Can you give that case back for a sec?”
“Oh, sure.”
I hand the case over to him, and he takes one of the blank capsules out.
Then he throws it at my car, my Pontiac Aztek, currently parked in the driveway. It’s now fern green, like Walter White’s one. Since I’m not selling the car anymore, that new paint job wasn’t really necessary, but it looks nice.
poof
Suddenly, the car is gone, the capsule lying on the ground where it was parked.
I walk over and pick it up, seeing a little car symbol on it now.
“Huh. Neat.”
I hand it over to Cal, who puts it back, closes the case, and gives it to me.
“You can use the rest of those capsules to store all of your stuff from the house, Jeff. Should make setting up shop somewhere else a walk in the park, right?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Then he pulls out something that looks like a key fob, and gives that to me.
“You can use this to revert the house, car, RV and airfryer back to capsule form. Just point and click, it’s very user friendly. We were gonna put switches on them for that, but it’s too easy to exploit. We can modify the Aztek to add that function if you want–”
“Whaddya mean, it’s too easy to exploit? I don’t get it.”
“Well, Jeff, say you set up the house capsule… someone could just walk up while you’re out, push the switch, and stroll away with your house…”
“Ah, now I get it. Jeez, these things could be kinda dangerous in the wrong hands.”
“Yeah, I know, which is why we’ve been going out of our way to prevent these babies from being abused. Every capsule that’ll be sold in stores will come from FauCorp, so we’ll know who’s buying them.”
“Man, now we can leave town a lot earlier than I expected. Just need to finalise the paperwork to sell this place, stuff all of my crap into these capsules, and we’ll be good to go.”
I put the case and the device in my pocket.
“So I hope you aren’t too attached to this house, Electra. Because we’re leaving Detroit within the week.”
Electra looks at the house.
“Ewectwa knu, we nu wuz gunna stay hewe foweba.”
Marley smiles at us.
“Yu too am awways wew-come in ouw nek of da woodsies. Dewe am a wotta fowks hu ack-shu-awwy miss yu too, Jeff.”
“R… really? That’s… that’s good to hear. Thanks, Marley. So, uh, any news regarding Mr. D and his Posse of Darkness?”
Cal shrugs.
“Not much, Jeff. We’re pretty sure they’re not in Michigan anymore, but I just can’t tell you where they are now. If we think they’re headed your way again, we’ll let you know.”
“And Jaws hasn’t broken out of Hell yet, has he?”
“Nope. The boys Down There have learned a few lessons after the last few breakouts.”
Meanwhile, in Hell’s tenth circle’s demon snake enclosure, Jaws clambers out of a massive help of snake feces, spitting, gagging and sobbing.
“Bwaaaaaah! It really is worse the second time!”
He stumbles away from the pungent pile, seeing the demon snake slithering away.
“Really don’t wanna go a third time.”
His pink fluffy costume is now brown, and if he was still alive, he’d have the worst case of double pink eye right now.
G’h’zz and M’zz, the two elite demons assigned to Jaws, land on either side of him, both of them wearing long, black rubber gloves.
“Too bad, this ain’t gonna be your LAST time going through the snake.”
“Let’s just go get you cleaned up, Humphries.”
They grab him by the arms and fly up, onto the platform, and then drag him out, through the hellish halls.
They stop outside what appears to be an ordinary pair of elevator doors, built into the rocky wall of the tunnel. There’s a few more doors like those on either side.
G’h’zz uses his free hand to push the button, and the elite demons and their charge wait.
ding
The doors slide open, and the demons march their charge into the elevator.
It looks like a completely ordinary Earthly elevator, safe for the fact that there’s a lot of red, and there’s a demon dressed like an old-timey elevator operator standing next to the panel with the buttons. Naturally, his uniform is red too.
The panel has eleven buttons on it.
G - GATES OF HELL
1C - LIMBO
2C - LUST
3C - GLUTTONY
4C - GREED
5C - WRATH
6C - HERESY (AND R&D)
7C - VIOLENCE
8C - FRAUD
9C - TREACHERY (AND BOSS’ OFFICE)
10C - FLUFFY ABUSE
That last button looks a lot more new than the others. It was installed much later than the rest.
M’zz addresses the elevator operator demon.
“Eighth circle, please.”
The elevator operator demon nods and pushes the eighth button, and after the doors slide closed, the elevator starts moving up.
Please don’t call it a Hellevator. Everyone Down Here has heard that one a million times, and demons may have low standards for comedy, but even they’re sick of that tired old joke.
On the ride up, G’h’zz and M’zz make small talk.
“You heard what happened the other day? That fat fuck from Project Zero Freaks tried to make a break for it.”
“Can’t imagine it was hard to catch him, though.”
“Nope. If he wasn’t already dead, all that running woulda given him a heart attack.”
Jaws rolls his eyes.
“So what are they doing to him? They’re probably not feeding him to that snake. He’s high in cholesterol.”
G’h’zz glares at him.
“Zip it, Humphries. Leave the jokes to US.”
M’zz shrugs.
“Eh, let him HAVE that one, I thought it was funny. But yeah, just keep your trap shut before you get more snake shit in it. We’ll have you clean as a whistle soon enough.”
ding
The elevator stops and the doors open, so once again, the demons lead their charge through the hallways.
They enter a vast cavern that looks like an Earthly laundromat, but with one key difference, barring the abundance of red in the decor:
The size of the washing machines. Each of them is the size of a small house.
Several elite demons are at work, grabbing men in business suits, and tossing them into the giant washing machines.
“Alley-oop!”
YEET!
Another few demons are hovering near the top of the gigantic washing machines, carefully pouring humongous jugs of liquid detergent into the detergent drawers. With the strength of a demon, those jugs aren’t hard to lift.
They’re not going to bother with fabric softener.
According to the name on the jugs, the brand is called Cheerless.
Some of the washing machines are already running, the businessmen inside helplessly being churned like butter and soaked with suds, the elites assigned to them reading magazines as they wait for their “laundry” to be done.
Yes, they get magazines.
And yet more elites are dumping soaking wet businessmen into dryers just as big as the washing machines, or hanging them on large drying racks with red clothes pegs.
All of those businessmen were money launderers in life, which is why they’re in Hell, and Down Here, they’re big on irony, and taking things overly literally.
G’h’zz and M’zz drag Jaws over.
“Room for one more, guys?”
“He’s covered in shit again, but you don’t mind, do ya?”
One of the other elites shrugs.
“Go for it.”
G’h’zz grins.
“Excellent, thanks.”
And so does M’zz.
“We’ll see you later, Humphries. Don’t forget to scrub behind your ears!”
They toss Jaws into the washing machine with the damned money launderers.
YEET!
Back in my living room, we sit on the couch again, and I’m holding the capsule containing my car in my palm.
“This is actually kinda cool. I can walk around with my car in my pocket.”
Cal cracks a grin at me.
“Please try to be careful with those. The case is designed so that the capsules won’t activate if you drop it, but if you keep those capsules in your pocket, you might accidentally activate them. I’m trusting you not to abuse this tech, so don’t disappoint me.”
“What do you think I’m gonna do with these, hide a body?”
“Actually, they’re designed to not work on living things, or dead bodies. You can’t shrink that house or those vehicles down if anyone’s still inside. We’ve got specialized capsules for corpses, so you know.”
“Had to use a lot of those, huh?”
“…Yeah. We’ve had to use them a few times…”
The look on Cal’s face suggests that I may have accidentally hit a sore spot.
“Cal? Are you alright?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. You just… kinda reminded me about something I don’t like thinking about.”
Marley smiles reassuringly at his owner.
“Skawt nu did stay ded fow wong, daddeh.”
“You’ve got a point, Mar. But if it was up to me, he wouldn’t have died in the first place.”
“So you used one on–”
“Sorry, Jeff, but we’ve gotta bounce. Let’s just say I’ve gotta talk to Val about something related to Scott, and then we’ve gotta head over to Drakonia to see how Eddy and Erdrick’s training is coming along.”
“Who are Eddy and Erdrick? I don’t think I’ve seen them in Who’s Who yet.”
Cal gets up.
“If you wanna meet them, you’re free to tag along. We can come back to pick you up after we’re done at Val’s lab.”
Marley smiles mysteriously at me.
“Yu mite be a bitsie suw-pwized wen yu meet dem.”
I think about it, then shake my head.
“I’ll have to take a rain check, we’ve got enough on our plates right now. Another time, guys.”
“Your call, dude. Okay, boys, say bye-bye to Jeff and Electra, because we’ve gotta roll, and so do they.”
As Marley and Piccolo hug Electra goodbye, I have one last question to ask.
“So how do you get to Drakonia, anyway? You don’t have to die to go there, do you?”
Cal hesitates before he answers.
“No, you don’t have to die to go to Drakonia. There are… a number of passageways connecting Earth and Magicca, but the portal tech we’ve got can get us there too, and you can get there via the Inn Between Worlds. You been to the Inn yet?”
“Once, yeah. Funnily enough, the same day we left Korkeaopolis, we passed the door on the way out of town, so we stopped for a quick drink. Nothing alcoholic, I was driving.”
“Well, just listen to Igor, and whichever world you go to, he’ll make sure that you get back to this one safe and sound. There’s probably a door to the Inn in Detroit, and if there isn’t, he can put one up if you ask nicely. He’s more powerful than any of his customers, so he’s one bartender you don’t wanna fuck with. Don’t start any fights, pay for your drinks, Igor’s preference is tangible money, follow the rules Igor lays down and you’ll have the time of your life at the Inn. You can meet all sorts there.”
“I know, Cal. We met a guy in a gold suit, and his wife never seems to not be smoking a cigarette. I’ll keep all of that in mind. So are there any other ways for us go from Earth to Magicca?”
“Not that we know of. Chaos can travel between worlds, though. He can go pretty much anywhere.”
I shudder, remembering my very brief visit to Primal Earth.
“Yeah, you don’t have to remind me.”
Meanwhile, on the B-side of the universe, in the New Order of Darkness’ headquarters, somewhere in Drakonia, Dehak, Varney, the Rider and the Many, the Octovirate of Darkness that lead the New Order, have gathered in a vast magical workshop.
Yes, the name isn’t entirely accurate at the moment, but they’re working on fixing that.
Everything in the camper’s workshop has been moved into this one, freeing up a room in the camper’s magically expanded interior. And everything in the camper was originally from Dehak’s secret crypt, another of the properties he owns in Drakonia.
The camper is parked elsewhere in the headquarters, with the Rider’s motorbike. The Octovirate doesn’t have much use for it at the moment, and after the incident caused by Michel Toutvyn, who had been sabotaging the Wild Mages on Dehak’s behalf before the lich recalled his minions, Dehak ordered the rank and file of the New Order to stay away from the camper.
The Wild Mages, if you’ve forgotten, are magical anarchists based in the cold, bitter northern lands of Urshuul. They moved north to get away from Drakonia’s Mage’s Guild and its rules, which they found to be oppressive.
Naturally, many groups of the Wild Mages have learned that the Mage’s Guild doesn’t have so many rules about practicing magic just be to be killjoys, usually about five seconds before those Wild Mages die a gruesome death in a magical experiment gone horribly wrong.
Such as one of the groups sabotaged by Michel. He merely suggested that they breed giant rats to deploy against their enemies, and that they use magic to make those giant rats even more giant, before he slipped out and left his “colleagues” to be mauled to death by the monstrous rodent.
Dehak himself used to be a Wild Mage, but was kicked out for being too crazy, even by their standards.
Naturally, Dehak was extremely offended by this, which is why he’s been having people like Michel sabotage the Wild Mages from the inside to spite them for giving the psychotic lich the boot.
Which doesn’t really help his case.
As for Michel, he was banished from the Mage’s Guild for his unspeakable magical experiments on mice. Dehak, who is just as unpopular with the Mage’s Guild as he is with the Wild Mages, was all too happy to recruit Michel to his own cause, and to give him free reign to continue his experiments.
A number of the minions here used to be Guild members, cast out under similar circumstances as Dehak and Michel were.
But Dehak isn’t going to complain about the Guild practically handing him minions.
Dehak, Varney and the Rider stand around Dehak’s trusty black cauldron, filled with water, and Dehak is using one of the hairs he stole from Calvin to scry on his hated nemesis.
And the Many is hovering above the cauldron to get a good view.
As the hair glows black, twisting into incomprehensible shapes between Dehak’s rotten hands, the water in the cauldron ripples, displaying an image of Calvin shaking hands with Jeff on the latter’s lawn.
Dehak nods, a scowl on his rotten, stringy-bearded face. His eyes, bloodshot yellow sclera and red irises, are filled with hatred for the man who humiliated him twice over.
“Looks like the boy is keeping a close eye on our friend-to-be, gentlemen.”
The Rider scoffs. He’s not wearing his helmet or gloves, not needing to hide his true nature here.
“Do we even NEED Robinson anymore, Dehak? With the Key to Infinity, we can recruit ANYONE, anyWHERE.”
“Frankly, Rider, by now I want to recruit him simply because our enemies are keeping him away from us. I want to recruit him so I can make a point: that no one, no one denies Lord Dehak the Almighty. We decided to recruit him, and we will recruit him. Chaos and the boy can’t protect Robinson and his shite-rodent from us forever.”
The word “shite-rodent” is the Magiccan equivalent to the word “shitrat”. Woollies, this world’s counterpart race to fluffies, have been abused just as much as fluffies have been abused on Earth.
Of course, woolly abuse is illegal in Drakonia, but during the brief period of time that Dehak was the God-King of Dehakonia, he had all but made the very existence of woollies a crime.
Varney shrugs dismissively.
“I doubt that they are merely protecting him out of compassion. They must have an inkling of how dangerous Robinson’s Darksyde would be.”
“Yes, that’s my theory too. Perhaps we can slay two dragons with one sword again. If we can distract the boy’s cult, we can liberate Umbra and the Demon, and recruit Robinson.”
The Many chimes in with their myriad of echoing voices, the voices of all the fluffies and woollies who have become part of their being.
“But yu onwy gut wun of dat Kee, how can we du bof at da same time?”
Dehak ceases his scrying, the black light of the hair and the image in the cauldron fading, and he tucks the hair away in an inside pocket of his robe, next to the Key to Infinity and his magic mirror.
“I’m still working on duplicating the Key’s powers, Many.”
Varney glances at one table, bearing, among other things, a small pile of little glowing balls that look like miniature suns.
“It’s a lot harder than duplicating a Sun Pearl.”
“Su wai am yu cwan nu weaw-in dem fings, Vaw-nee?”
“Because it turns out that the bloodbag weekend wizard Faucheuse has a list of everyone who he’s given a Sun Pearl to, and none of my clan are on that list. If he finds out that there are vampires out there with Sun Pearls he doesn’t remember giving them, he’ll want to know where they did get those things.”
“Weekend wizard” is the magical community’s equivalent to the phrase “Sunday driver”. It’s used on both Earth and Magicca.
“Su jus hab dem weaw da Peawws undew dey cwothies wike yu du. Faw-shush nu gutta knu dat dey gut dem.”
“Don’t you think that he will find it a bit suspicious if he sees a vampire apparently walking around during the day without a Sun Pearl and not burning to ash?”
“Oh, wite.”
Dehak nods again.
“Until we find a solution to that problem, we’ll just have to make sure that your newest thrall doesn’t run errands on Earth in the daylight. It’s always nighttime somewhere on the planet.”
The Rider laughs, leaning on the cauldron.
“Good thing we’re staying away from Lumix for now. They’ve got THREE suns, so night isn’t really a THING there.”
Dehak scowls even harder at the thought.
“We’ll have to do something about that, too. And I’ve told you not to lean on the cauldron.”
As the Rider stops leaning, the Many looks around the workshop.
“Whewe am Vaw-nee nyu fwaww, aneeway?”
Varney shrugs again.
“On another errand run, obviously. He’s happy to go anywhere that isn’t Massachusetts.”
“An whewe am dat fing Dehak made?”
Dehak grins maliciously as he answers the question.
“He’s locked away deep within these unhallowed halls, waiting for my order to move out. He has the same insatiable hunger for souls as the Darklings do, and there’s only one soul that can satisfy his hunger, so it’s best to keep him away from the minions. It’s not that I care about their souls, but replacing them is a pain in the rear end I’d rather avoid. We can’t afford too many losses at this point in time. It’s not like we can just throw Drakonia’s prisons open and recruit everyone inside again.”
He paces around the room, thinking out loud.
“Those of our forces who are competent enough to serve us well will be rewarded generously in the end. As for those who screw up? Feeding them to the Darklings is always an option.”
“Or we could make zombies and shades out of them.”
“That’s right, Varney. Even in death, they’re useful to us. Self-proclaimed heroes like the boy may be able to tear their way through a zombie horde like a dagger through parchment, but it still keeps them busy for a few minutes, and people like us can do so much with those minutes.”
“How manee zum-bees wud we nee tu in-vade Kaw-keeyah sitty, Dehak?”
“Much more than we have at the moment. Before I restored my body, the majority of my undead minions were in the Lich Yard, and the dragon-boy and the metal boy wiped them out. How does that metal boy have power so similar to his flesh and blood counterpart?”
The Rider helpfully explains as Dehak keeps pacing.
“He’s got some kind of funky power sources. Omega Drives, they’re called. Hans invented them.”
Dehak comes to a stop, turning to the Rider.
“The same Hans who Umbra talked me out of wishing back? The one who built the metal boy?”
“Yup.”
“Damn. Now I’m regretting not wishing him back when I had the opportunity, he could have made a set of those Omega Drives for us. I think Umbra mentioned them…”
“What would you do, put them in a Projekt Caldroid 4.0? From what I’VE heard, Hans was a HACK. We’re better off without him, Dehak. He had his OWN agenda, and it would clash with OURS.”
“Yes, that’s what Umbra said too. You know it was Umbra who gave Hans the idea to build the metal boy? So I see your point, Rider. That Hans fellow seemed to be completely incapable of having an original idea.”
Then Dehak goes back to pacing.
“But I still can’t shake the notion that Hans should be a part of this. Now that we no longer have my precious Lamp of Desire to wish up any gadgets and gizmos we need, we could use a scientist. Magic is wonderful, sure, but I’ve seen that magic and science wielded in tandem is a force to be reckoned with. I’ll make the boy and his entire cult pay for taking my precious away from me.”
“There’s gotta be a scientist SOMEWHERE on Earth who would work with us. Someone more competent than Hans, and less… eurh… backstabby. Like I said, Hans was a hack. He lost to the ChaotiX like a dozen times, and he was EXTREMELY powerful the last time!”
“Really? How did he obtain such power?”
“I dunno. I think the ChaotiX covered that up. They must be hiding one HELL of a secret, Dehak.”
“Well, that’s another question we’ll have to answer later. For now, we have to focus on the matter of Umbra and the Demon. How do we distract the boy long enough to liberate them?”
Varney gestures around.
“We have an incredible magical workshop and we can cast all the spells we want here. We can simply create a distraction, can’t we?”
Dehak pauses again, staring blankly at Varney.
“That… that’s not a bad idea.”
He storms over to a bookshelf, riffling through random arcane tomes.
“No… no… oh my, no… certainly not… ha, one of those wouldn’t last five seconds against the boy…”
Then he sighs.
“Damn it. I can’t think of anything we can create that would keep the boy busy for more than a few minutes. I know what I said, but I want to keep him and his army of flunkies distracted for as long as possible.”
The Many giggles, sounding much creepier than when the average fluffy or woolly giggles.
“Jus sum-un a buncha Dawk-wings, Dehak.”
“But the boy will know immediately who is behind it. We need to maintain plausible deniability, Many. They can’t figure out what we’re up to too soon. You know what?”
“Wut?”
Dehak reaches into his robe again, pulling his magic mirror out.
“I think it’s time we reach out to some of our employer’s other servants…”