51: Riding The Lightning

  "The Anvil concert?" Uncle Gord said. "But that was the best metal show I've seen in the last—"

  Before he could finish that sentence, several things happened at once, which made it hard for Kim to keep track of them. First, a horrible, familiar laugh chuckled inside her head. Then the Necklace of Maximum Rock began burning as a beam of light shot out from the gem and connected with the gem on Fiora's neck and then Damon's and beamed back to her necklace so they formed a triangle of power. Her hair grew longer, her muscles bigger. Armor, like scales, spread across her body, shining with gold. She knew that the image that Blayre had once shown her, of her standing on skulls, was coming to life. "No!" she said. "No!"

  Beside her, Damon was taller, more ethereal and powerful, his Screaming Eagle Staffglowing with great energy. And next to him, Fiora had grown at least a foot, her eyes burning red as if the fire inside her were looking for a way out. A bell sounded and the heaviest of heavy metal music filled the Headbangers Ballad Ballroom.

  "It's 'Ride the lightning' by Metallica," Damon said. His voice echoed with new power.

  "We have become goddesses," Fiora added. "And a rock god!"

  King Fidds rose from his mound throne, vines wiggling and growing in his beard and along his arms. The staff in the woman's hand beside him glowed with green light.

  "Kill the king!" Damon shouted. But he sounded more like Blayre than himself. A white ball of lightning was swirling above his staff. His face was frightened. Kim imagined she had the same look.

  "Strike him now!" Fiora shouted, but her words were garbled as if she were fighting the command. She had continued to grow, too, her chest expanding and wings opening up. Her claws looked like they belonged to a giant bear. The metal music was all around them now, strengthening them.

  Kim, without planning to, pulled out her blade, which was now made of black steel. "You will die, green man!" she shouted.

  She tried to put the blade back, to take back the words, but failed. She was a visitor in her body—caught in the back of her own head looking out her eyes and feeling everything, even the power coursing through her, but not controlling a single action.

  "Well, this is interesting." Fidds hadn't yet lost his smile. "Who speaks through you?"

  "It is I!" all three of them said at once. Kim again had no control over her voice. "I am hefting you into Hades! Your worst enemy. Your worst nightmare. The most powerful wizard in all of Metaloria." Fiora flapped her wings, rising from the ground.

  "I know many wizards," Fidds said. "Which one are you?"

  "It's me!" they all shouted.

  "You'll have to be more specific."

  "Me, Blayre of Rothland! Well, soon it will be Blayreland once I destroy the last vestiges of Roth's magic." The ball of lightning glowing at the end of Damon's staff was shooting sparks to the ceiling. Kim had pulled back her sword to strike, her hands steadier than ever. And a few angry flames burst out of Fiora.

  "Blayre?" Fidds held his hand up about shoulder height. "Little Blayre? The 'Magic Man' Blayre?"

  "Yes," they shouted. "But I'm no longer little. And you will pay!"

  Fiora rose higher, pulling in a deep breath, and just as she was about to let out a blast, Uncle Gord stepped between her and King Fidds.

  "Stop this!" he shouted. "All of you! Kim, put down that sword and—"

  Fiora didn't hesitate. Couldn't hesitate. She blasted Uncle Gord with a complete and utter outpouring of flames. They hit him, knocking his hood back, and though he held up his mace, the handle burst into flames. His shield deflected a portion to the side. The skinny man ducked behind the throne to avoid the onslaught of fire.

  Fidds raised a hand, and a wall of leaves sprang up, trying to surround Gord and protect him, but they were burnt away. Gord fell back onto his knees, overcome by the pain.

  Kim couldn't do anything but watch. Her body was already making its own motions, swinging the sword. And Damon leapt forward, raising up his staff, letting go of the lightning ball. This got the attention of the woman next to King Fidds, who shot a cold light out of her staff that deflected the lightning ball. It blew up against the far wall, knocking over a guard. Meanwhile, vines rose around the stage like snakes.

  Kim swung her sword right at Fidds' neck with more strength and dexterity than she'd ever had, and though she felt horrible about the outcome that was about to happen, a part of her marvelled at the perfection of the swing. The king would be headless. Nothing could stop it.

  Except he glanced at her. Nothing more than that, but it gave her a clearer picture of his green eyes. And suddenly she was ten feet away. The floor itself had moved that distance in a heartbeat, and Strümbringer swung through empty air.

  The floor couldn't be trusted. Again, without her commanding it, her body leapt and passed over her uncle, who had always been bald but was now completely hairless, but his armor and shield had survived the flames. His face was twisted into a horrid sort of middle-aged agony as Fiora continued to burn him.

  "Stop it!" Kim wanted to yell, but she was saying, "This is my vengeance! This is my pact with myself! I am death on two legs—well, six legs if you're counting. My sweet revenge is here." The witch woman swung her staff, and Damon ducked and slid under the blow, hitting her in the shins with a fireball. It knocked her over but didn't burn her. King Fidds was now surrounded by a wall of defenses, moving his hands as the vines curled out towards the three of them. Fiora swung her claws, killing many vines.

  The Necklace of Maximum Rock grew tighter around Kim's neck, and seeing Damon reaching towards his neck suggested it was happening to him, too. Her uncle had somehow taken another step through the flames, though his hood was clearly on fire, and his hair, what little there was of it. But he stood and reached towards Fiora. He grabbed her with his bare hands.

  His hand landed on Fiora's amulet. And in that same moment, Fiora flapped her wings, her eyes widened, and there was a crack of power, as if his hand had given her a shock. He pulled back his hand and ripped the necklace off and flicked it to the floor.

  Fiora stopped blasting him with flame. "What in the name of the metal gods?" she said. She touched her neck. "I'm free! I'm free!" She reached out her arms as if she were going to hug Uncle Gord. "How in Hades did a mouth breather like you do that?"

  Uncle Gord smacked her in the mouth, which Fiora received with all the grace of a moose being hit by a truck. A good portion of her snout folded in under the blow, and she fell to the floor.

  Kim continued her arc towards the king, but the woman flicked her staff, and Uncle Gord rose and reached out to rip the necklace off her neck. In that moment, Kim caught her breath, perhaps for the first time since the necklace was forced upon her. "Kill the bald man!" Blayre said inside her head, and she twisted her blade towards him.

  "Uncle Gord!" she tried to say. But she couldn't get her lips to move.

  She swung her blade straight at his soot-covered head. His eyes were unbelieving, but some part of his brain clearly wanted to survive, and his body decided on its own to move. He ducked; the blade swished through the air, and he rolled away. "Kill him!" Blayre shouted again inside her head. "Bring back all their heads."

  She jumped after Uncle Gord, swinging her blade. It was an impressive leap, and she had height, pausing long enough to be surprised and a little proud. And confused. For she wasn't coming down.

  "Grab her necklace!" Fiora shouted. Kim now knew why she was floating: Fiora had grabbed her by the shoulders and was holding her in the air. She poked backward with her sword to stab the dragonspawn, but Uncle Gord leaped up and grabbed the necklace from her neck, snapping the chain and tossing it over to the land near the other one.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Relief fizzed through her like a Mentos dropped in a human-sized bottle of Pepsi. Kim sucked in a breath. She no longer felt the physical constriction around her neck, the sense that every breath was being monitored. But the time of having Blayre in her head—IN HER HEAD—was gone.

  "The jerk is gone," she said. She raised her arms in celebration.

  Fiora dropped her without warning, and Kim got her arms out in front of her before she hit the floor. She looked up at her uncle looking down. "There's one more." Kim pointed at Damon.

  Damon was writhing on the floor, the king using mystical ghost vines to hold him in place. His electrical lightning bolts were shooting as he swung his staff, trying to hit the woman and get through her to the king. He dodged one way, then when she moved and Damon could jump towards the king. The other thin man who was there between them, holding a small wand, raised it. Then, seeing the determined look on Damon's face, jumped out of the way, leaving the king unguarded.

  Damon ran the last few feet like an underweight linebacker in flowy clothes. He jumped, a rather impressive jump, pulled back his arm and swung.

  The king motioned, and in the blink of an eye, a dark green shield of branches and moss appeared in the air. The staff hit it and, instead of bouncing off, went further into it as if into a pile of moss, and then Damon's hand and arm were covered with it. He tried to pull the staff out of the moss shield, but wasn't strong enough. And then he let go of the staff and threw himself at the king, shouting, "Die!"

  Uncle Gord reached into the vines and grabbed the Necklace of Maximum Rock. And tugged so hard, he lifted Damon up into the air. He yanked harder, and Damon lifted higher. "No!" Damon shouted. "If I can't have my revenge, then I will make this cretin's head blow up like a—"

  They never got to hear how creative the comparison was going to be.

  The necklace snapped. Uncle Gord flicked his hand, and the necklace flew and landed near the other two necklaces. Kim watched the necklaces for a few moments, half-expecting them to grow legs and attack, but they remained still. There was a faint whisper of Blayre's voice, then the light went out of their jewels.

  Damon slowly stood up and massaged his sore throat. "Hey, you're the guy from the Anvil concert," he said, pointing at Uncle Gord. "Wasn't that a great version of 'Metal on Metal'?"

  Gord reached down and extended his hand. "It absolutely was." He helped Damon to his feet.

  Then Gord turned back towards Kim, and before either of them could say anything, he gathered her up in a hug. It was the most genuine and tangible connection she had felt since arriving in this world, even though he smelled like an ashtray.

  52 Free As The Wind

  "How did you get to Everyrosehasitsthorn?" Uncle Gord asked when he let her go.

  "Well, I—" Kim began, but then she deflated like a warrior balloon. Her muscles shrank and shed clumps of beautiful hair to the floor. Was this what aging felt like? A wave of depression washed over her unlike any she had ever experienced.

  She glanced at Damon; he appeared visually less impressive, less sparkly and pale. The three god-like beings who had been wreaking havoc moments ago were now much more human. Well, except for Fiora, who still had dragonspawn features but seemed less like a fire-breathing Godzilla capable of endless destruction.

  "I'm getting an ice cream headache," Damon said.

  "But we are free!" Fiora exclaimed. "Free!" She did a pirouette like an excited little girl with scales, snout, and wings. "It has been far too many years for me under Blayre's thumb. I am ready to rock hard and ride free as the wind!" A tear formed in her eye, but before it could fully materialize, she shot out a flame to dry it up.

  "How did you get here?" Uncle Gord asked again. "I mean, where were you? And what has happened since the concert? You certainly look different."

  "So do you," she replied. He had always been a vigorous man, but now he appeared more confident and maybe a little younger. Unlike everyone else, however, his hair wasn't growing. Especially since any remnants had been burned off. "I don't even know where to start."

  "We were transported to Blayre Palace in Rothland," Damon explained. "We fought monsters in a dungeon, escaped, and were commanded by a great wizard named Blayre, or perhaps 'powerful' is a better word, who wanted us to come here and behead the…" Damon stopped, realizing that he might be revealing information that could lead to his own beheading. "… the king. Unwillingly, to be clear."

  "You got to fight monsters in a dungeon?" the slim guy said, his eyes lighting up. "Cool! Did you see any gelatinous cubes?"

  "Oh, I wish we had," Damon replied, clearly excited by the question. "But we encountered mutt mindslayers, Mot?rkraken, and—"

  "Who are you?" Kim interjected, pointing at the young man. "You look familiar."

  "I'm Jam," Jam said, bowing. "I was lucky enough to be standing beside you and your uncle at the concert. So lucky. I think I could smell your perfume; that's how close I was. Maybe you remember my very cool DeathFace Blitzkrieg shirt."

  "Were you wearing that shirt ironically?" Damon asked.

  "I am certain this conversation can be continued after we've had some food," King Fidds interjected. Now that Kim had a good look at him, she noticed he was a handsome man with grass-green eyes and earthy brown hair and a green beard so thick that an expensive electric razor would likely fall apart attempting to trim it. A trio of guards in green armor stepped closer, spears and bows at the ready. "We are safe," Fidds assured them. "They are friends, and they deserve the hospitality of the realm." The guards stepped back. "I am incredibly interested in your encounter with my great friend Blayre. He partly blames his father's death on me, alas, though many died the day we battled D?s-K?. He has built a cult of personality around his father. Well, and himself. I do pity Blayre."

  "Please share every detail of your encounter with him," the woman said. "For I have been observing Blayre from afar. I am Lita, Great Green Witch of the Vale of Silent Lucidity, a friend of the kings." She placed her hand on Uncle Gord's shoulder. "And your uncle as well."

  Kim looked from Lita to her uncle Gord, who was smiling with the slightest hint of a blush. She hadn't seen him blush before.

  "Nice to meet you," Kim said.

  "And I am King Fidds of Balladria," the king introduced himself. "Though I assume you have already deduced that. Now you mentioned a beheading—"

  "Blayre wanted us to bring your head back in a bucket," Fiora stated matter-of-factly. "He didn't provide the bucket."

  "A bucket?" Fidds laughed. "Not even a basket or a nice box. Just a bucket. He is as jealous as a Green Manalishi With a Two Pronged Horn. Did he mention what he wanted with my head?"

  "To mount it as a trophy, I assume," Fiora said. Kim found it remarkable how calm the king seemed despite the whole beheading thing.

  "Although Blayre and I have had our disagreements, this is a curious escalation. I am very attached to my head." Fidds patted Lita on the shoulder. "Get it? Attached to my head."

  "Yes, I understand the obvious play on words, Your Majesty," Lita responded.

  "Oh. She only calls me 'Your Majesty' when she's upset."

  Kim glanced over at the necklaces. They hadn't moved or, like in the movie Alien, jumped up and wrapped themselves around her neck like tentacles. She had broken up with a boyfriend who insisted they watch that horrid movie, and she forevermore called him The Alien Ex.

  "Anyway," King Fidds continued. "Let us break bread and share our tales of woe and wonder."

  "Balladrian chefs are legendary," Fiora chimed in, licking her lips. "Even though their cuisine is vegetable-heavy."

  "Can dragonspawn eat vegetables?" Damon inquired.

  "Of course," Fiora replied, chuckling. "Although they produce a discomforting amount of gas. Not a wonderful combination with someone who breathes fire."

  "I like your sense of humor." Fidds pointed at Fiora. "You're not afraid of gastronomical jokes. We will be good friends. And I need to learn more about dragonspawn history."

  They followed the king toward a tall door. Uncle Gord stepped in beside Kim, putting his arm around her shoulder. "It's so good to see you," he whispered.

  "How did you survive the flames?" she asked.

  "Yes, I'm especially curious about that," Fiora added. "When I burn things, they tend to stay burned."

  "Oh, that," Uncle Gord said. "Are your flames magical?"

  "Well, there is some natural magic involved."

  "I'm mostly immune to magic," Uncle Gord explained. "That's why I could grab the necklaces."

  "So how did that come about?" Kim asked.

  Before Uncle Gord could answer, they stopped. They were passing near the Necklaces of Maximum Rock. The items still looked dead to Kim, as if the magic had been drained from them in the battle.

  Lita poked one necklace with her staff. "And these were controlling you?" she asked.

  "We were puppets in Blayre's employ," Fiora explained. "Blayre told us they would explode if we didn't complete our task, splattering our heads like melons."

  "That sounds like Blayre," Fidds remarked. "He always enjoyed fireworks. And destruction. He was not the greatest of pupils."

  "You taught him?" Damon asked. He glanced briefly above the king's head.

  "I am but one of the many who tried to teach him," Fidds answered. "He is not easily teachable. He too often made things like this." He pointed at the necklaces.

  "Dispose of these carefully," Lita advised the king. "I wouldn't let anyone touch them who doesn't understand magic."

  "And that is why I am so pleased you visited me," he said. "For it will be your task, Lita. And maybe your anti-magic friend Gord. I'll let you decide whether you should melt them down or bury them."

  "Or drop them in a volcano," Damon added. Kim had a feeling he was referencing a movie.

  "One does not simply walk into Mordor," Jam said.

  Damon smiled. "Not without an extra hobbit."

  "I will have my sentries guard them for now," King Fidds said. "Then the disposal will begin, and we will have to decide how best to reply to Blayre's, uh, incursion into my realm."

  They walked on, and the two guards at the door stepped back. They made the heavy metal horns sign.

  Then, just as she was about to go through the door, Lita stopped, and Kim ran into her back. But Kim also had the same feeling that something was wrong. They were missing something in the room. No, they were missing someone.

  They turned to look towards the necklaces. Jam was kneeling on the ground, looking down at the items with an intense focus. "They have their own Metal Health," he said. "Can you see the power they still possess?" He looked up at the group. "They're beautiful. We can't throw these away."

  "Step away from those items," Lita warned, slowly raising her staff. Even King Fidds was bringing up his arm.

  "But you don't see what I see," Jam insisted. "They're very, very precious."

  And with that, he placed his hand on the necklaces.