By Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
Chapter Twenty-Seven "A Turn for the Worse"
"The Gods of Autumn are where? Doing what?"
The purple of Eva's face was not a very complimentary hue, despite her penchant for an all-black wardrobe.
"They are in the Doogeran Caves, away in the North Country. And they are sleeping." Mr. Plimsoul repeated.
"Afagddu is reported to be snoring as well," reported Mr. Hecatomb unhelpfully.
Eva began to pace around the room, flapping bits of her wings at her elbows now and again.
"If only we hadn't been caught napping ourselves," she snapped.
"We were all darn tired after the Walpurgisnacht," Mr. Hecatomb said.
"Installing a new Crannoch-in-Chief," Mr. Plimsoul reminded her.
"You needn't remind me of my culpability in this affair, Simon," Eva pleaded. She was not the imposing presence she had been in the light of the bonfires the night before, her great black wings spread out, and the eye burning above her head. Eva remembered the great eye above the fire direly warning the assembled crowd on Walpurgisnacht: "Do not open the Casket of Augersaal! Do not open it!" At the time, they did not think that they would need to resort to the casket. But now that time had come.
"The witches have gathered at the dockyard, arrayed for battle. There's also a report from Berny Cottswold's men that a golden barge has appeared at the inlet. Do you know what that may be, Crannoch?" Mr. Plimsoul inquired.
"A golden barge? More of their wizardly well-wishers, no doubt." Eva dismissed the report. "What we need to do is open the Casket of Augersall as soon as possible."
"Back to Plan A, then, Crannoch?" Mr. Plimsoul inquired, keeping his tone strictly respectful.
"Yes," hissed Eva, her boa writhing as if it had been struck with a stick. "Back to Plan A."
* * * *
Granny Pansy and the others wanted to take maximum advantage of whatever dis-organization and poor spirits might result from the unexpected removal of the Gods of Autumn from picture. The dock workers, many of whom had been doing the bidding of Crannoch-in-Chief Eva and her crew through the nefarious influence of the Gods of Autumn, now would snap back to their natural allegiances. And friends like Barnabas Burrbuckle had a lot more pull with them than self-serving authority figures like Berny Cottswold and his two-bit coppers. Many of the police themselves had only a doubtful allegiance to Berny Cottswold and his notions of imposing a strict marshal law. When the witches, giants and gods had taken over the town square for a picnic lunch, the police had stood idly by, despite Berny's threats of retribution. They were for law and order, and drunken gods dancing in the square, or being peacefully carried out of town by friendly giants didn't seem like much of a threat to that order. If Eva or any of her magical crew had been able to make it to town in time, the story might have been quite different.
Eva sent Gar the dwarf on ahead to stiffen the police to their task. The coppers would be out in force, and active against the dockworkers and the witches this time. Eva's Persuuadom spell would make certain of that. Berny would be more helpful clamping down after their magical victory.
The dockyard was an interesting choice for a battle. The many large cranes and piles of cargo containers left few clear lines of sight. Whoever dug in first would have an advantage. Those coming to join the battle would have to pry them out from behind their hiding spots. This was witch urban guerrilla warfare. And Granny Pansy had every intention of winning, Casket of Augersaal or no.
Dockworkers were very helpful in getting the witches and wizards into all manner of safe places. From birdlike perches at the tops of heavy cranes for wand snipers, to secreting a magic bomb inside a cargo container that lay between the witches' perches and the most obvious attack route. They would try to ambush their enemies as they came in. In the weeks since the strike, the idle docks had become overrun with large black ship rats. There was no one at the docks to help keep them away, and their presence added an air of desperation to the dockworkers' activities.
Eva was determined not to give Granny Pansy and the witches any time to enjoy their tactical victory removing the Gods of Autumn. All the warlocks and spell-casters that they had would march in behind the police and engage the enemy. Mr. Plimsoul, herself, and Mr. Hecatomb would bring the purple globe and the Casket of Augersaal to just outside the gates, safe from direct attack, but close enough that the Casket would have maximum impact. They loaded up the limousine that they had commandeered from Berny and set off. By the time they arrived, the scene at the docks was already a maelstrom.
A line of blue-coated police knocked at the door of a cargo container with a battering ram. Witches circling on broomsticks called down hail on them, which pattered harmlessly off of their riot gear. A group of dockworkers had penned in about a dozen coppers by maneuvering another container into a corner of two walls, with the coppers in the triangle of space between. Enemy warlocks were trying to savage the rear line of the defenders by calling alligators and crocodiles from the sea at their backs. Some witches on ski jets tried to slow down the spell casters by lobbing exploding sea urchins at them.
Granny Pansy was pointing four ways at once and directing the defenses single-handedly, so to speak. She was swinging from a basket at the end of a crane line so that she had an excellent overall view of the battle space.
"Cravenaugh, ho! Behind you!" she called to a tall wizard in red robes. Cravenaugh turned around just in time to duck a flaming raven aimed at his head. Granny Pansy lobbed an incinerator-spelled ball at the spell caster who'd sent the ravens flying, putting a serious dint in his capacity to launch any more ravens. Black feathers were everywhere.
The defenders were holding their own, and maybe a little bit more than holding their own, when Eva's silver Archer Limited limousine pulled up outside the gates. Mr. Hecatomb hopped out of the backseat first, pulling one end of the Casket of Augersaal. The ill will it had radiated in the basement with Sarah and Missy had doubled in the intervening days. The Casket of Augersaal was absorbing a lot of energy from the ambient magic being cast all around it. Mr. Plimsoul emerged with the far end of casket, pushing Mr. Hecatomb toward the great iron gates of the docks. Inside, the docks looked like a fight in a bird cage. Furious darting witches in all manner of get-ups and color were chasing each other around while trailing or throwing sparks of fire and jets of smoke.
"Look!" shouted Mr. Hecatomb, rapidly putting down his end of the casket to point through the gates with his sharp baton. "There's Grandmother Tone!"
Unfortunately for Mr. Hecatomb, his voice carried particularly well that day, and Granny Pansy, with a flick of her wrist, broke Mr. Hecatomb's spell-casting arm, right at the elbow. Mr Hecatomb went down with a yelp. Eva, seeing this through the limousine's tinted glass, flew out of the car and hurled a discus of pure bladed energy at the wire above Granny Pansy's head. Granny Pansy descended in her bucket like a lump of lead. If it hadn't been for her self-inflating skirt, she might well have been seriously injured.
Granny Pansy's fall, although not fatal, gave Eva just enough time to invoke the purple ball while the uninjured Mr. Plimsoul set the casket up against the front grill of the car. Part of the spell of invoking that they had gotten from Granny Pansy when she thought she was negotiating for Dar's safety, had hinted that some magical musical object was required. Mr. Plimsoul's further research unearthed the fact that the purple globe would play the tune to be used in the song that would unlock the Casket of Augersaal. Eva and Mr. Plimsoul stood on opposite sides of casket, Mr. Plimsoul held the lyrics at an angle so that both of them could view it. Mr. Hecatomb howled ignored by the iron gates, clutching his broken arm to his quaking belly. Eva began to sing, softly, and the harp appeared in the purple globe, and the tiny hand began strumming out the tune.
Mr. Plimsoul joined in with his thin voice, stringy as he himself was. It was an emaciated singing voice that had none of the authority of the teacher-voice he used at the high school.
They sang the words together, faithful to the tune and to the lyric sheet provided by Granny Pansy. This time, the Casket of Augersaal didn't just hop and bump as it had on the sawhorses in the basement. This time it rose in mid-air, and the lime green light appeared around the edge of the closed lid. But the lid did not open. Instead, a purple smoke so thick it was like a sandstorm rained down on Eva and Mr. Plimsoul, and the Casket of Augersaal dropped so precipitously that neither of them had time to jump back out of the way, and it landed squarely on their feet.
"Claw of the Kraken!" cursed Mr. Plimsoul. Eva let out a string of expletives in her native tongue, whatever that was. It certainly sounded vile enough, as though your ears would need at least a week to recover.
"You're off-key," commented Mr. Hecatomb between pained breaths. "There's a high tone neither of you can reach in the tune."
Evan and Mr. Plimsoul both looked at the injured Choirmaster with evil in their eyes.
"Then how can we sing this blasted spell?" yelled Mr. Plimsoul.
"Yes, darling Eugenius, how can we do it?" purred Eva, trying her vampiest voice.
"You can't." There was deep pain in his eyes, and a blurred sort of recognition. "You haven't the lovliness."
Neither of them had the talent to sing the song well-enough to open the Casket of Augersaal. Sarah, with her beautiful, and as Mr. Hecatomb had often said, special voice, was indeed destined to play a part in the events unfolding at the docks.
"We have to get in touch with Sarah at once!" Mr. Plimsoul was frantic.
"The feather of misdirection does not work that way. The caller must want to get in touch with you."
"Why would she do that?" Mr. Plimsoul said, exasperated. "She ran away! She must hate us! Oh, all your schemes have come to nothing! You should never have been chosen Crannoch-in-Chief! Now we'll spend the next hundred years just where we've spent the last hundred--outcast an unmanned. I guess a Draggonnath should be used to that!" Mr. Plimsoul no longer cared if or how much Eva might despise him. All of his plans lay in ruins around him. Just then, Eva broke into a wide, mild smile, her eyes full of disgust for the spineless Simon Plimsoul losing his cool in front of her very eyes.
"How can you smile at a time like this?" Mr. Plimsoul demanded, his eyes wide with disbelief. "You must be mad!"
Granny Pansy was dusting herself off rapidly with her four hands, and climbing out of the dropped bucket. Out of the corner of her eye, Eva could see the golden barge pulling alongside an empty pier. The sails of the barge were furled as it was being secured to the dock by the hands aboard her.
Eva pluck a feather off of her boa and held it between herself and Mr. Plimsoul.
It was dancing, and a tiny, thin version of Sarah's voice was singing:
Feather lithesome, feather bright
END OF CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN