“Holy jumping saints! It’s Eirik and the Vikings! And lions! And . . . is that the parade?”
“Goddess! Dark One!” Eirik, covered in blood and grinning madly, stopped hacking a gray blob on the ground. “We are here! Just in time for the battle, yes? You wish a sword, Dark One?”
“If you have one to spare,” Ben said, and to Inner Fran’s secret delight, Ben took up the bloody sword Eirik tossed him.
“If you get hurt using that—” I started to say, but at that moment, Ben leaped forward when a brown and gray wolf, spotting us in the doorway, lunged at me.
I love you too, Beloved.
“Goddess! It’s a good thing we bought you a beheading ax in town,” Isleif said, panting as he stopped before me, brandishing a small camping ax. “The Dark One said you would need it.”
I took the ax he shoved in my hands. “Ben said that? When did he say that?”
“This evening, while you were having your supper. He sent us on ahead to get our weapons and lay in wait for the evil one to show.”
“Oh, he did, did he?” I thought you didn’t want an all-out attack force?
I didn’t, but felt it would be wise to have one in reserve, should they become necessary. I believe this qualifies as necessary.
Yeah, well, you could have told me that. I’m going to have a few things to say to you once this is over, buster.
Stop talking to your Vikings and protect your mother.
I knew full well that what he really meant was to stay out of harm’s way, but since someone did have to keep an eye on Mom, I decided it wasn’t worth arguing about. Besides, I had to admit that the sight of Ben in black jeans and a plum-colored shirt battling what appeared to be ravaging wolves was a sight to make any woman melt with girlish admiration. Four members of David’s pride were also in full attack mode, their roars and snarls as they fought the wolves adding to the general sense of chaos. But it was when the first of the parade floats came level to the circular drive of de Marco’s house that things really got weird.
The float was supposed to depict some sort of scene on a river, with girls in scanty mermaid costumes bearing gold tridents, perched on papier-mâché rocks around a glittery river made up of sparkly blue sequins. A man with a huge sword and horned helm stood at the top of a waterfall that consisted of streamers of blue and white crepe paper. A sign made out of painted violet pebbles spelled out “San Francisco Queer Opera Co. Supports Brustwarze.” As they started past the drive, one of the mermaids pointed and yelled in a deep bass voice, “Look, girls! PR opportunity! Let’s join the fun!”
“Someone get the digital camcorder! We’ll be the hit of YouTube!” another mermaid yelled, and in a couple of seconds all eight of the hairy-chested mermaids clambered off the float and had joined the fray, yelling and shouting happily to one another, walloping both wolves and lions indiscriminately with their tridents, as all the while the helmed guy stood on his float stomping his feet and screaming for them to come back and not leave him alone.
Do you see de Marco anywhere? Ben asked me, distracting me from the dazzling sight of the attacking mermaids.
No. Are we sure he’s here? Watch out!
Ben ducked as a wolf leaped over the back of what looked like David, almost knocking Ben down at the same time. Your lich friend said he was.
Ulfur! I turned from where I was guarding the door and confronted him. “Ulfur, where’s your boss?”
He said nothing, his eyes sad.
“Please, Ulfur. I know that he’s put some sort of compulsion on you not to tell us anything, but this is important. He’s done something to my mom and I have to know what, so I can reverse it. Please tell me.”
Ulfur shook his head.
“Please, Ulfur. Please help me. I swear to you that we will do our best to get you released from him, but in order to do that, you have to help us now.”
He shuddered, closing his eyes for a second, his face twisted in agony as he pointed to the left. “Chapel.”
“Thank you.” Impulsively, I leaned forward to hug him. “Thank you. Isleif! Come and guard my mother!”
“Goddess?”
Isleif paused in the act of hacking off the head of a dead therion in wolf form. I yelled for Eirik and Finnvid, likewise in the heat of the battle, and then sent out a call to Ben. Ulfur says he’s in the chapel. That must be the creepy building that the gargoyles sprout from.
Francesca! You must stay with your mother!
Isleif is with her. Hurry up! I need you!
Ben muttered to himself as he fought his way over to me, his sword flashing silver and red in the light from the windows.
I can hear that, you know! And you aren’t going to have a next Beloved, so just buck up and come help me get a little payback before David finds out where de Marco is.