“So the skull is lying?” I asked her.
“Not necessarily. The myths suggest some of them were captured, not destroyed.”
“Captured … inside a human skull?” I twisted my mouth skeptically. “How do you know any of that, anyway?”
“Pick up a book once in a while and you might learn something too, Agent Morris,” she sneered.
I was thinking of a comeback when the shouting skull recaptured my attention.
“I will waste no more breath on these doltish femmes,” it clamored. “Fetch me a man of authority!”
Blythe and Lienna stiffened.
“A man?” my partner repeated.
“Are you not familiar with the word?” the skull mocked. “A male of your species, one of the stouter sex, strong-jawed and unburdened by the salacious constitution that plagues shrews such as yourselves.”
“I am the one in charge here,” Blythe growled at the skull.
The cranium sighed. “The hull of the world has run aground on the beach of emasculated patriarchy.”
Lienna stared at the skull in revulsion. Without looking away, she called out, “Kit, get over here.”
I obliged, stopping beside her. “What’s up?”
“Our bony new friend won’t talk unless he’s in the presence of a penis.”
“I uttered no such statement!”
“Alas, poor Yorick, you pretty much did,” I told the skull. “Now, do you need to see the penis or will you take my word for it? Because I’m not sure I’m comfortable with—”
“Putrid bipeds!” the skull spat.
I let out a half-laugh. “I think Skeletor is jealous of our legs.”
Beside Lienna, Blythe exhaled sharply in exasperation, then extended her fingers toward the skull. It lifted out of the case and hovered in the air just below eye level.
“I’ll only say this one more time,” the captain grunted. “Tell us what you know about this place, or—”
“Or what?” the skull interrupted with a condescending chuckle. “Your pathetic psychic energy is but a fitful breeze brushing across a mighty stone peak, hag. This skull is a vessel, a prison for my true form, which, were you to ever lay eyes upon it, would shatter your frangible mind.”
“I have a question for you, Crypt Keeper,” I began.
“Hold thy ignoble tongue, eunuch.”
I guess that answered my “taking my word for it” question. “You’re pretty old, right?”
“My history spans millennia.”
I nodded seriously. “Okay, then how come you talk like you’re stuck in a bad Shakespearean performance from four hundred years ago?”
Blythe huffed, Lienna rolled her eyes, and behind us, Agent Goulding said, “Um, guys?”
“Insolent child,” the skull snarled. “You haven’t the faintest idea to whom you are speaking.”
“Why don’t you fill me in, Ghost Rider?” I shot back.
“There is magic deeper, darker, and so delightfully sinister that your tepid spirit could endure not so much as a taste. You are standing on earth which mourns in the wake of such horrific sorcery that even the blood of my keeper, a profoundly potent practitioner in his own right, chills at its name. But I—I am capable of far more.”
“Guys!” Agent Goulding repeated loudly.
The three of us turned to look at her—and found ourselves staring into a dark shadow solidifying in the middle of the garden. We backpedaled and I almost fell into the hole.
“The hell is that?” Lienna gasped.
“It’s him!” Goulding shouted. “It’s the skull! You broke the seal with your stupid abjuration magic and now he’s escaping!”
As a rolling, gravelly laugh poured out of the skull, Blythe flipped it around with her telekinesis. A crack ran down the back, and a thin trail of dark vapor like smoke from an oil fire, nearly invisible against the backdrop of burnt meadow, leaked out. The smoky line spiraled toward the growing shadow-blob.
Well, shit. If this asshole was, as Goulding had suggested, a genuine Drangfar Lord, we were all oh so screwed.
With a slash of her hand, Blythe tore three blackened fence posts out of the earth and flung them at the shadow. They sailed harmlessly through it and crashed to the ground on the other side, sending up a puff of soot. I hoped that wasn’t “violent hallucination” soot.
The skull roared with amusement.
“We have to reseal it,” Blythe announced as she sent another post flying at the shadow, eliciting more raucous laughter.
We all knew what that meant: Lienna had to work her magic. She was the only one with any sorcery skill.
Blythe waved her hand again, and the hovering skull flew toward Lienna. She snatched it out of the air—and the massive shadow rushed at her. It knocked her back and she landed on her butt, more surprised than hurt. The shadow whirled on me, and a blast of wind threw me backward. I fell at Goulding’s feet.
“It’s only going to get stronger,” she said, crouching as the shadow spun threateningly, the swirl of darkness obscuring my line of sight to Lienna and Blythe. “The longer it has to regenerate itself, the more powerful it’ll get. If it reaches its full form, there’s no way we can stop it.”
“Seriously, how do you know all th—”
A body flew past us—Blythe, spinning from an unseen blow. She slammed into a fence post and crumpled limply.
As I scrambled to stand, the darkfae shadow swelled to over nine feet tall. From the writhing darkness, six limbs took form, each shaped like a twisted tree trunk and emitting a neon green hue. Knife-like teeth protruded from his lizardy jaw and his spine bulged with horns. Or tusks. Or whatever the horror-monster equivalent of horny tusks were.
Cool.
Time to add some nightmare fuel of my own to this party.
“Hey, Jack Skellington,” I called, sauntering along the garden’s edge—moving away from the others. “I’ve got a few more questions for you. First up, do you suffer from arachnophobia?”
The darkfae, his monstrous body growing more solid with each second, twisted to face me—but I was no longer alone. I had my own unsightly ally: a spider the size of a small truck, with multi-jointed legs and a huge, blubbery body. Darkfae prick, meet Shelob, straight out of her hidden Cirith Ungol lair.
His reptilian head tilted as he took in my new fanged friend. Not giving him time to puzzle out what he was facing, I sent Shelob scuttling toward him in a lightning-fast charge. The darkfae lunged sideways, evading the spider’s assault. For a “feared and formidable” Lord of Drangfar, he was awfully skittish.
At the other end of the garden, Lienna and Goulding knelt over the cracked skull, the ass end leaking a steady stream of black miasma. Lienna riffled through her satchel as she barked rapid-fire commands at Goulding. The alchemist mashed what looked like pink bubble gum—more likely to corrode your jaw than provide a single moment of cherry-flavored joy—into the crack.
The darkfae began to turn in their direction. Shelob launched into his path and jabbed warningly with the two-foot stinger sticking out of her jiggly ass. The fae came up short, again unsure how to tackle this strange, hideous creature. Toothy jaws snapping, he cast one of his six arms in a wide arc, and a wave of neon green light swept out. Ruptured earth sprayed everywhere as the beam passed.