64: High And Not Dry

  It was the three librarians who stood on the pentagram. A red, evil and somewhat overdone smoke drifted out of the symbol.

  Judging by the tightness of their beaks and the narrowed eyes, they were not pleased. Kim imagined that a lifetime of seeing dog-eared books had scarred their souls. Even their feathers were ruffled, making them seem even bigger. Each librarian held open books in their feathery hands. One book was red, one green, and the other black. Their fingers rested on each page, as if they wanted to keep their place. She remembered their names only because they had been written on name plates in The Great Archives of Hair: Günter, Glieben and the two-headed, four-armed Glauten-Globen.

  Kim learned in the next moment that they were each tapping on a source word, for from Günter's book blasted a bolt of lightning. Black tentacles whipped out of Glieben's book and arched through the air. And from the third, the red book held in two of Glauten-Globen's hands came a spurting wave of orange gelatin.

  The lightning struck Uncle Gord in the forehead, and he lifted a finger as if to say something profound, then fell to the ground and lay still. He was impressively impervious to magic, but clearly these source words were too strong for him. The tentacles grabbed Fiora and smashed her against the ceiling, and then they squeezed her like a many-fingered hand, impervious to her flames. A heartbeat later, the orange gelatinous substance, which reminded Kim of the fruit Jell-O dessert that Crazy Aunt Lisa made, fell towards her. Kim swung Strümbringer, hoping to split the substance, but it enveloped her like she was a candied cherry or piece of apple. The universe turned orange and silent and unbreathable.

  Calm down, she told herself. The dessert tasted of oranges. She would die with that taste in her mouth. Kim tried to poke her sword through the gelatinous substance, but it didn't budge, nor was she able to swim her way out. She stomped her feet hoping the Destroyer Boots Of Major Metal Destruction would smash her way out, but the orange substance absorbed their power. The gelatin made her eyes burn and filled her ears, forcing its way up her nostrils and down her throat.

  In Belize, while on one of the yearly vacations her uncle took her on, she had learned how to hold her breath for a free dive. She closed her mouth and concentrated on slowing her heartbeat. Their instructor had been a Belizean who had grey hair and spent most of his time sitting on the ocean floor. His record had been ten minutes.

  "Be one with your breath," he said, in her memory. "Be calm and totally relaxed, dudette."

  She stopped moving. All Kim could do was watch the orange world surrounding her. Fiora was struggling against the tentacles, letting out blasts of fire that made the dessert glow. And her uncle continued to lie on the floor. She turned her head slowly through the gelatinous substance to see that Blayre remained trapped by the blanket, but his eyes glowed with joy.

  The librarians pressed further into the room. "I would take great pleasure in popping the dragon spawn's head," Günter said. Her voice was deep enough to penetrate the gelatin.

  Blayre shook his head.

  "Oh, you don't want us to pop her skull like an egg?" Günter said.

  "I believe it would be more like a cantaloupe," Glauten-Globen corrected.

  "No," Glieben said. "A cantaloupe would not work. This man here—" she pointed at Uncle Gord's unconscious form "—we could pop his head like a cantaloupe, for it has a large cantaloupe shape. But dragonspawn skulls are elongated ovals. So the proper comparison would be popping her head like a watermelon. Or a gourd, but gourds take so many shapes and sizes, so are not an effective comparison."

  "I just want to pop her head," Günter said. "Let us not worry about the perfect comparison."

  Blayre was now whipping his head back and forth, but couldn't escape the blanket.

  "Anyway, Günter," Glieben said. "The wizard wants to speak. Since these invaders were in his palace, we might let him have some input in the discussion before we mete out justice for all these lesser beings." She pointed, and a tentacle slithered over and pulled back the blanket.

  "Away!" the wizard shouted. The I Want My Heavy Metal blankie flew across the room and hung itself up. He pulled a lever on the side of his throne, and the back tipped up so that he was now seated. "No popping of Fiora's melon! She shall see the lives of her companions extinguished, then she, too, shall die. And the beautiful light in her beautiful gold-flecked eyes will go out wishing she were mine."

  "Kill the spawners." Fiora had stopped struggling, though her voice garbled slightly because her snout was pressed so hard against the wall.

  "Honorable attempt at being aloof," Blayre said. "But I know when someone has wormed their way into your heart. So they will die. And your fate will be even worse: you shall live to see me become the most powerful of all wizards in all the history of Metaloria. You will quake in fear."

  "We are quaking right now," Günter said. "Mostly with impatience. Where is our promised gift?"

  "Soon," Blayre said. "Your gift will arrive on a silver platter." Kim wondered what gift they would ask for. Would it be a rare edition of Librarians Behaving Badly? She thought that was a clever thought and wished she could share it, but being encased in gelatin prevented that. And her uncle, just lying there, wouldn't have been able to hear her.

  "The one on the floor is dead." Blayre was standing beside Kim now, but pointing down at Uncle Gord. The black spot on top of her uncle's head was visible even through her orange prison walls. "And the girl is holding her breath." Blayre was peering at her now. The gelatin made his features stretch like a reflection in a carnival mirror. "We will discover how long it takes for her to expire. Do you hear that, Fiora? The girl will soon have a lugubrious death."

  "You're using that word wrong," Günter said. "Lugubrious means sounding sad or dismal."

  "Well, she will sound sad and dismal very soon," Blayre said.

  "But we won't hear it because of the Oversized Magical Gelatin Dessert With Extra Mandarin Oranges that surrounds her," Glauten-Globen said. "Is it still a lugubrious noise if she can't make it? I don't think so."

  "Metal gods!" Blayre said. "It's still a lugubrious noise. But forget that—you're missing the point. She will die, and then Fiora will make lugubrious noises."

  "I won't," Fiora said. "That spawner smells of sanctimonious unctuousness."

  "Dear heavens!" Günter raised her book as if saluting. "A dragonspawn who knows big words."

  "And she used them properly," Glieben said unctuously. "When we squish her melon, we can examine her brain matter."

  "There will be no squishing of her head today," Blayre said. "I expressed my intentions in that manner."

  "Yes, yes." Glieben waved a feathered hand. The tentacles rubbed Fiora back and forth on the glass ceiling. How powerful were these librarians? Kim wondered. They had no fear of Blayre. Maybe the three librarians together equaled one wizard. The witch moved her hand again and brought Fiora down, wriggling and completely bound, one tentacle over her snout to prevent speech and fire.

  Kim felt the need building in her chest to take in air. She knew how this worked. She concentrated on calming down. Her diving instructor's words came back to her: "Be one with the water, dudette. Imagine singing a silent song of pure calmness."

  The song came to her, and she moved her lips without singing. It was an Adele song that she'd sung silently countless times.

  "She is trying to speak to us," Blayre said. "She is saying she is in hell. Oh. That's not quite right. She's mouthing hell-oh. Ha, that makes no sense. Why is she saying hello? Ah, no matter. You will die a lugubrious death."

  "Again," Günter said. "I take issue with your misuse of that word."

  Blayre turned away from Kim. That was good because she could hear the song in her head now. It was clear as a bell, and it took her mind away from needing air.

  Then, through the gelatin, there came a bright glow. The jeweled arch had instantly grown bright with flashing lights. Despite the way the gelatin warped and wafted her vision, she saw what happened next clearly: Jam, holding the head of the druid king in one hand and the guitar and Damon in another, came flying through the arch. They hit the floor at breakneck speed, but didn't break their necks. Instead, they bounced once, twice and piled right into Glieben, the tentacle-controlling librarian.

  Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

  She did her best impression of a feathered bowling pin—she flew in the air after the mass of Jam in his barbarian form struck her. It was the first time Kim had truly seen someone go head over heels, or talons in this case. The librarian landed on her back with an oof! The book she'd been holding flew to the opposite side of the room, and the tentacles vanished.

  "You stupid owl thing!" Jam said. "You made my heavy metal maniac entrance look uncool."

  65: Love Bites and Other Lessons

  Jam released the head, slipped the guitar onto his back, did five one-armed pushups, then popped up, holding Damon like a duffel bag and the king's head in his other hand. Even through the gelatin, it was obvious to Kim that Jam's physique had become more — well, more physical. It was very hard not to look at him. The bowled-over librarian let out a shriek that turned into a screech.

  "Don't be so owly, dudette," Jam said, oblivious to his play on words. "It's not very metal."

  The good news, Kim realized, was that Damon was alive, though he looked to be squeezed so tight that he couldn't escape. The other good news was that Fiora was free of the tentacles, so she could fly down, burn all their enemies and, if she thought of it, slash the gelatin into shreds so Kim could take a breath. Actually, Kim was kind of hoping that Fiora would do the gelatin-slashing part first.

  The only problem with Kim's plan was that Fiora didn't move from her position on the ceiling. Even though the librarian no longer had the book or the tentacles, Fiora continued to be stuck there. Her eyes burned metaphorical holes into her enemies. She glanced at Kim with the same anger, and Kim got the sense Fiora expected her to do something. But what could she do while stuck inside a Jell-O square?

  Jam straightened the bandana version of the Necklace of Maximum Rock on his head. Glieben was standing now. She gestured, and her book flew to her feathered hands. "For that blow upon my flesh, I shall embark upon a journey of meticulous vengeance, rendering you devoid of substance and innards." The librarian squawked at him and let out a hiss.

  "Book lady, I do not know what you're saying," Jam said. He shook the hand holding both the guitar and the head. When the librarian saw King Fidds's head, her eyes widened, and she took a step back. "That's better." Jam shook the head again. "I'm the rock god here. You're a freaky bird."

  Jam lifted Damon into a standing position, and Damon stood as awkward as a newborn fawn, eyes wide, taking everything in. When he saw the orange substance around Kim, his eyes widened. "Kim!" he said. "You're in a gelatinous cube." There was a slightly jealous tone in his exclamation.

  "Hades bells!" Fiora shouted. "I'm up here."

  Damon looked up, and his eyes widened further. Even through the gelatin, the relief on his face was obvious to Kim. "Fiora," Damon said. "You're alive!"

  "Metal Dad!" Jam shouted, not wanting to be left out of this series of reunions. The large jaw muscles that dominated his face didn't prevent him from displaying a boyish look of wonder. He dropped Damon, but kept the druid king's head in one hand and the Schenkeraxe in the other. Damon took that moment to run towards Kim, but was smacked by a tentacle and pressed against the floor like a bug.

  "Yes, son, your metal dad awaits." Blayre smiled the smile of a puppeteer pleased with his work. "So wonderful that my boy is back in town." The smile slipped from his face and became a look of horror when Jam leapt across the room, nearly knocked over another librarian, and wrapped Blayre up in his massive arms.

  "Dad! Dad!" Jam hugged him hard enough to knock Blayre's hair askew. "You're really here!"

  Even trapped in her gelatinous prison, Kim laughed at the sight of a horrified Blayre, which pushed bubbles of air into the gelatin. Blayre did his best to pry Jam away but the super-strong boy had him in a bear hug. "Metal Dad, it is so metal and cool and rocking to see you. Did you pick up the milk?"

  "Milk?" Blayre said.

  Jam smiled so wide it looked like his head was separating from his body. "Don't worry, I'm lactose intolerant. That's why you didn't get it, right? Hey, we even look the same." The only resemblance was that they both had two eyes, a nose, and a mouth and amazing rock hair. He glanced above Blayre's head. "Whoa! That's a number a beast would be proud of! You are totally my dad."

  "Yes, ugh, I am." Blayre tried to break the grip again, failed. Fidds' head slammed against the wizard's back. "Welcome home, son. This is the land of metal you were born to live in."

  "Son?" Günter said. "Is there a new meaning to this word?"

  Blayre lifted a finger to his lips, then, clearly getting the air cut off from his lungs, he made a motion, and Jam popped back several feet, now hugging Fidds' head. "Did I get too close?" Jam said. "My cousin's girlfriend said I was clingy. Before she decked me, that is. Not that hugging you was like hugging her. Did I offend you, Metal Dad?"

  "All is well, child of my metal gourd," Blayre said. Kim was relieved that he hadn't said "loins," but somehow "gourd" was equally as bad. She also realized her little laughing fit had broken her concentration, and she was thinking more and more about breathing. All the commotion in the room, including seeing Damon, had made her heart speed up. Which meant she was burning more oxygen.

  "And you have brought the head of my sworn enemy." Blayre was staring at the severed head like it was a roast fresh out of the oven. "You have succeeded gloriously in the mission my three questers failed to accomplish."

  Jam glanced around the room. He saw Fiora on the ceiling, then looked at Gord on the ground. "Oh, he has an owie," he said. Then across at Kim. "It's the maiden from Anvil," he said. "Oh, Dad, you brought the girl here for me. You're so great!"

  "She is about to have a lugubrious death," Blayre said. "As punishment for failing me."

  "It is imperative that you stop misusing that word." Günter's wings spread to accent her displeasure.

  "You can't lugubricate her to death, Metal Dad," Jam said. "She was promised to me."

  "I didn't promise you this spawner," Blayre replied.

  "You didn't," Jam said. "But the skinny guy did!" He pointed at Damon.

  Kim's mouth dropped open despite the gelatin. The liquid immediately worked its way down her throat. "I didn't promise her!" Damon said. "She's her own person."

  Kim choked, and Blayre laughed. "It is time. Watch, Fiora. The second of your companions will die, and then I will kill the boy, and you will be alone as I walk astride the worlds like a god." He ruminated for a long second. "A god of metal."

  "Kill Kim," Fiora said. "I find her annoying."

  Kim really wanted to suck in a breath and defend herself. But if any more of this jelly salad ended up in her lungs, she would suffocate.

  "Dad," Jam's pleading was a high-pitched A note. "Dad, I really like this Kim babe. She's hot."

  "Don't spoil the moment, son. Now give me the head of the king, and we'll watch the end of this insignificant life together."

  "No," Jam said. He held the head tighter.

  "Give it to me," Blayre said. "Don't disappoint your metal sire."

  The gelatin had worked its way deep into Kim's lungs. It was a horrible feeling of having swallowed too much Jell-O and little bits and pieces of fruit that weren't melting as it went down.

  "I gotta be my own man, Metal Dad," Jam said. "If I'm not running wild and free like a Harley, you won't respect me." He clutched the head even tighter. "Let her be mine."

  "Metal gods!" Blayre rolled his eyes. "Parenting is hard. Fine, I'll kill the boy first." He gestured towards Kim.

  The gelatin exploded across the room, and Kim fell to the floor, spitting out the orange goo and sucking in air. She coughed up several bits of orange and pineapple.

  "Nothing good will come of letting her live," Blayre said. "Believe me, I know all about what happens to your heart when you let those who break it survive. Love bites, son. All you get are diamonds and rust."

  Kim tried to think of something clever to say. But looking up at Blayre and the far too goggly eyes of Jam, she only said, "Thanks."

  "Oh, dear maiden of rock and metal hotness, you are welcome." Jam lifted Fidds's head like a bouquet. "Though I must say, you don't look as hot with all that gunk stuck to you. Anyway, I'm just going to give this to Dad, and then we can talk about our grand union. Are you a fan of DeathFace Blitzkrieg? Do you like their drummer? Not the one who exploded. Anyway…" He shook Fidds's head again. "Metal Dad wants this head, so I'll give it to him. I'll just head on over there." He winked at her. "Get that? I was being funny."

  "Kill us all now," Günter said, "before he unleashes another pun."

  But Jam was so focussed he didn't hear the librarian. "Oh, you didn't laugh, Kim Babe. I'm sure you'll understand my jokes once I explain them to you. We're going to have a great time."

  "I—" she coughed and spat out part of a candied cherry. "Am so totally looking forward to that."

  "This rocks like…like…" Jam searched for a word.

  "A hurricane?" Damon said from beneath the tentacle.

  "Yes, thanks, dude!" Jam said. "This is just like paradise! Now to fulfill my father's wishes." He approached Blayre and bowed in front of him, holding the head out.

  Blayre wiped a drop of saliva from his lips, staring at the head dangling in front of him. He reached down and clasped King Fidds by his hair. That hair, Kim noted, had lost none of its lustre.

  "Yes!" Blayre said, holding the head up and looking in the eyes, which, to Kim's surprise, were still open but clearly not receiving any images. It was well preserved, but maybe since time hadn't passed as they were travelling here, the head hadn't started rotting. "That's what you get, King Fidds, for making fun of my poetry and my songs and my stature! How does it feel to be a dead nothing trembling before the might of Blayre of soon to be Blayreland. How does it feel?"

  "I hate to point out the obvious to you," Fiora said from above him. "He's dead. He isn't feeling anything."

  "The dragonspawn is correct," Glauten-Globen added in that odd double voice. "We have read many tomes about the dead. They feel nothing. Even those who come back to bother the living."

  "Don't tread on my moment!" Blayre shouted loud enough to loosen a chandelier from the ceiling. It smashed onto the bejewelled floor. "All of you hold your tongues and bask in the glory of me defeating my biggest enemy."

  He shook the head, and more dirt fell off of it. Kim slowly brought herself into a sitting position, stretching her legs. Jam, as if he still needed to hold something other than the guitar, lifted Damon from under the tentacle so he could see the show.

  "So I have to start over." Blayre held the head up to address it again. "It is I, Blayre," he said to the dead head. "He whom you should be quivering in front of, even though you're dead. Never again will you beat me at cards or win the best rock hair award. Your head will serve a greater purpose."

  The head, dangling from its luxurious hair, didn't quiver; it just moved back and forth like a somewhat off-weight pendulum.

  "What are your intentions with his head?" Günter asked.

  "He will become my backup singer," Blayre said. "Every song I sing, people will wonder and the power I have to bind his head to my songs." He glanced over at the librarians. "Our deal is done, my dear librarians."

  Günter ruffled her feathers. "Our word is our bond." She reached into her vest, passing by the arrows and axes that hung from it, and found a deeper pocket. She brought a small scroll tied with the tightest of ribbons. "Here it is. A heavy metal source word." She held it out to Blayre.

  When she put the scroll in his open hand, he stared at it with what Kim could only call glee. "This will change everything," he said. "Everything."

  "Wield it with great care," Günter said.

  "Yes, yes," Blayre said, closing his hand over the scroll. He made a motion, and it vanished, though Kim assumed it was sent to a secret pocket in his black leather jacket. He then pointed at Damon. "It is time to pay you, dear librarians, the price you were promised. You may eat this young man's brians now."