The Lawless One (Rareville Blues)
Thought I had this posted already some time back, but it wasn’t here when I needed it, so… I’m posting it again. Hopefully the manuscript has not been modified, but there is no telling what those vile government bastards pretending to be something they are not will do.
Chapter 9: The Lawless One
The next morning Bartholomew gave them permission to use the emeritas to purchase anything they wished from the venders in the area. Thankful that their clothes were cleaned by the inn staff over the night, and grateful for the sleeping garments provided, they set out to enjoy the warm morning together in somewhat damaged, but at least clean, school uniforms. The Pit of Final Despair was something of a tourist attraction for the denizens of Hell, and there were a number of residences built in the area housing those who had chosen to make their dwelling in the secluded place.
The view was breathtaking atop the floating mountain and a cool, blue waterfall filled a clear pool that flowed into a stream. The water coursed through the center of the villa underneath a short, arched stone bridge they stopped to admire the view from. There were trees with birds sporting long colorful tail feathers chirping above the patter of water.
A couple was sitting on a bench talking pleasantly, both of them resembling humans but with sets of ram’s horns coming out of their heads. They wore fine clothes and looked affluent and well-to-do as far as Hell denizens go.
The group of teens had the morning and early afternoon to do what they wished, and so they walked around the town exploring the walking trails and admiring the scenery. Eventually they came to a cottage with a wooden sign bearing a pair of scissors and thread on it, and they entered. Inside were several mannequins, male and female, modeling fine garments that looked suitable for a royal court, and various colors of cloth folded on shelves.
A short, gnomish fellow with glasses and a pointed nose greeted them with a smile when they entered.
“Greetings, and welcome to my humble shop,” the white-haired shopkeeper said. He was not more than four feet tall, wearing a blue vest with a white silk shirt underneath it, blue pants, and polished brown boots with elegant dark brogue. A gold watch chain looped from a vest pocket and he extended his hands magnanimously. “I am Friedinger Willoughby Esquire the Third, master tailor around these parts. How may I be of service?”
“We are looking to get some new clothes,” Odys explained.
“Then you have come to the right place! I have an extraordinary selection of the finest materials for both men and women, as well as for all shapes, sizes, and types. There is not a better hand that can stitch a garment to size and clothe a body in more magnificent apparel. Please look at the selection of outfits presented on my stoic models if you are looking for something more immediate, otherwise custom designs will take a couple days.”
“These are nice!” Skye appraised enthusiastically.
“Seriously,” Cindy added. “Bartholomew is really going all out for us. I imagine this stuff isn’t cheap.”
“He seems like he can afford it,” Rachel said, looking at a set of red and black clothes with high tall leather boots. “I think this will match my gauntlets, well. It looks pretty versatile too, like I could do a round house kick in it without much trouble.”
“A fine observation,” Friedinger said. “You are looking at the Brave Scout line, a favorite among travelers for its durability.” He rolled the ‘r’ at the end. “You can get it in several colors: red, blue, and gold.”
“Okay, I’ll take the red,” Rachel said with certainty.
“A woman who knows what she wants! Right this way my dear, I shall take your measurements and bring you your new clothes. Grezkella!” he called sharply up the stairs to the second level. “Will you please come and attend to our guests? We have a busy morning on our hands!”
There was some grumbling from upstairs, but shortly after he called, a gnomish woman with a green dress and large clouds of curly gray hair tied on the sides of her head walked down with a smile. “Who’s next?” She said, attending then to Skye, who had taken interest in the blue outfit from the Debonair Scholar line.
Odys chose the gray and black coat with matching shirt and pants, and Cindy a purple and black blouse with gloves that laced up her forearms along with its matching pants. The tailors had incredible skill and efficiency, and they had the four teenagers garbed and back on their way before end of the morning. Odys paid with the emeritas and they carried their school uniforms back to their hotel rooms paper bags.
Bartholomew was making arrangements to have Valkorina moved to the Via Austium that evening as well as replacing his sword, and was away. He assured them he would meet back with them later that afternoon and so the teenagers went back out into the villa, feeling buoyant and energetic in their sharp looking clothes and recent victory.
The afternoon passed quickly and without incident for them, and they ended it with a bottle of wine they were sharing on the veranda of the Bickering Boggart. A chance to drink underage was not something they were going to pass up, not when it had been such a fun experience the other night. The effects of the alcohol was making them giddy when Bartholomew walked up and joined them. The waiter brought him a goblet and he filled it with the red liquid.
“You made some fine selections, I see,” he said, setting his goblet down after a drink. “Master Friedinger is an exceptional clothier.”
“Thank you for paying for us,” Rachel said.
Bartholomew waved his hand. “You are welcome. Fortunately for me I have the reserves of the royal treasury at my service and the discretion to spend it how I will. These are necessary investments for the Infernal Court.”
“Which one of your jobs is for the royal court?” Cindy asked.
“Count of the Vine Blades,” he said. “The Vine Blades are a particular sect of royal guard that protects the lineage of the Infernal Court’s members. The progeny of Lucifer is referred to as ‘fruit of the vine’ in Hell, and thought Lucifer no longer rules on the throne himself, his descendants have been doing so for generations.”
“So how is buying us new clothes an investment?” Skye asked.
“Considerate appropriations,” he replied, finishing the wine and pouring another glass.
“Uh huh,” Skye replied, not understanding.
“I’m investing in your futures, and frankly I did not want to see you going out looking like school children of earth. Not when you are in my company at least. You are Force Bearers now, each of you wielding one of the artificed Forces of the multiverse – the tools that changed the course of survival for an entire universe at one point or another.”
“What’s going to happen to the other Artifacts? There were four left.” Cindy asked.
“They will await their Bearer.”
“What if no one comes?”
“Then they won’t be used.”
“So, do we have special powers now or something?” Skye asked.
“If you didn’t realize that already, I don’t know what to tell you,” Bartholomew replied. “It is nearly time for the Act of Final Despair. Are you ready to enter the Pit?”
“I’m ready,” Odys replied, and the others added their agreement.
“Then let’s make our way to it.”
The Pit of despair was inside a glass domed building on the far end of the villa. They had passed by it several times during their travels earlier in the day, but it had not been open. Now, when they approached, the great double doors were open and then entered freely along with the other visitors who had come to watch. Inside was a stadium arena with stone steps that served as seating in descending circles around where the central pit was. The pit was a wide, dark void that did not seem to have a bottom. Darkness filled it from all sides.
Spectators cheerfully filed in and took seats on the stone steps along with Bartholomew and his charge.
“So how is this going to get us to Golden Pentacles in order to free Susannah’s soul?” Odys asked, skepitcal of the situation.
“After the Lawless One dances the Via Austium will open,” Bartholomew replied.
“Dances?” Rachel said with surprise.
Bartholomew nodded.
“You took us to see a dance?” Skye complained.
“Watch your tone,” Bartholomew admonished. His voice had icy severity. Skye blanched. “This is suffering beyond your comprehension. It is the greatest pain that Hell can inflict on a human soul. It is sacred. Do not mock it.”
Skye nodded.
“So, what exactly is the Via Austium,” Rachel asked, trying to change the subject.
“A gateway between worlds. A soul can go to any realm in existence from it. Any realm’s Hell at least. There is a junction to the Hell capital in the Earthverse, which is the realm we are currently in, and where the Lawless One is imprisoned.”
“What sin did the Lawless One commit to deserve the greatest pain Hell can inflict?” Rachel asked, curious.
“Child,” Bartholomew said, “there have been scholars that have dedicated their entire afterlife to explaining that, and still we are no closer to having a simple explanation than we were ten thousand years ago. The crime is unspeakable by nature, much like the name of God is unspeakable by nature.”
“I feel kind of bad having to watch him,” Odys said. “I mean, us being here is part of the torture, isn’t it? I don’t want to torture anybody.”
Bartholomew laughed heartily. “Well said!”
Odys frowned, unsure of what to make of that.
The lights went off in the arena and a soft orange glow appeared from the central pit, dimly lighting the space. The light brightened as a circular platform raised out of the pit, leaving several feet of empty space around it. It hovered just above the bottom ledge in the center of the pit where everyone could look upon it. The platform was probably twenty feet in diameter and made of smooth metal.
The sound of a mechanism being operated clanked through the space and another, smaller platform only a few feet in diameter lowered from the ceiling with a giant white tooth standing on its bloody roots upon it. It was about the size of a small child, was wearing four pairs of sunglasses, one on either of its four faces, and was grinning with four mouths.
“Welcome,” the denticle said with all mouths at once and four voices, “to the Pit of Final Despair.”
Loud fanfare erupted and confetti shot out of the edges of the arena.
“Denizens of Hell, I give to you, The Lawless One,” its voice dropped deep and guttural.
Another mechanism opened in the ceiling overhead and a shape fell. A body hit hard against the metal platform and crumpled into a heap. His hands were bound behind the back and cloth sack was covering his head. After a long moment he twitched and slowly got up, pressing himself onto his feet with his shoulder. The bound man stood there, chains crisscrossed over his chest and shifted uncomfortably.
“Lenfroe, if you will please,” the denticle said.
A seven foot tall giant man with overalls and clown paint on his face leapt onto the stage from the crowd, causing it to shake uneasily. The Lawless One almost lost his balance. Lenfroe, the clown, walked over to the man and pulled the burlap sack off of the Lawless One’s head.
Underneath was an unshaven man with long, dark hair. He was smoking a cigarette and took a long drag.
The assistant clown undid the lock on the chains behind the man’s back and they fell to the ground around him. The Lawless One brought his wrists around, rubbed them, and then removed the cigarette from his mouth, exhaling. He stepped out of the chains and took another drag.
Lenfroe punched his open palm in front of his chest and bowed. The Lawless One looked away and exhaled. Then, the burly clown grabbed the chains and leapt from the stage, tossing them into the pit below.
“Remarkable,” the denticle said, unamused. “Our special guest tonight is… you gotta be kidding me, that’s his name? No. Ahem. Our special guest tonight is America Man!”
Fireworks went off around the stage and a man in superhero tights leapt gracefully onto the stage from a full sprint at the top row, rolled once and sprang upward onto one foot with an arm angling from his side and saluting, other leg curling back. His tights were blue, he had a red belt around his waist, and a white star upon his chest and back.
“I said my name is the Man of America!” He shouted.
“Shut up and dance America Man,” the denticle said.
The noise in the arena settled down and it became dead quiet. In the silence, the man danced. It was impressive and unlike anything Odys and the others had seen before, but it was somewhat embarrassing to watch and awkward. When it was over, Odys was relieved.
“Hmph,” the Lawless One said, seeming impressed by the display. “Your good, but not good enough.”
Then, the Lawless One danced. This dance was not embarrassing or awkward in anyway. It was beautiful, heartbreaking, and compelling. The crowd was on the edge of their seats and on the verge of tears when The Lawless One suddenly stopped, mid pirouette, cigarette in mouth.
“Somethings wrong,” the Lawless One said, lowering his leg, removing his cigarette and flicking it aside. “The veil is destroyed.”
There were murmurs in the crowd.
Recognition lit on the Lawless One’s face and he grinned. “See ya.” Without warning or sign, he disappeared before their eyes and was gone.
The crowd gasped.
“What happened, is that normal?” Rachel asked, grabbing at Bartholomew’s armor.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a slight problem,” the voice of the denticle said from overhead. “It appears the Lawless One has escaped. This is unprecedented.”
“Does that mean I won?” America Man said from the stage.
“The show is cancelled until further notice,” the denticle said, ignoring the competitor. “Thank you everyone for coming. The Via Austium will be out shortly.”
“Ha ha!” America Man exclaimed. “I w—"
There was a clanking of gears and the platform in the center of the arena lurched, and then fell, carrying the tights wearing dancer on it screaming into the pit.
They listened until his screams couldn’t be heard.
“Glad that’s over,” Skye said. “People travel the multiverse to watch this crap? That was awful.”
“Yeah,” Bartholomew said. “I always feel kinda sick after I see it. I’m not sure what they are going to do without the Lawless One though. He was really the main attraction.”
“Shouldn’t someone go after him?” Cindy asked.
Bartholomew shrugged. “Probably. We’ve got our own problems to deal with right now. Besides, the Via Austium is opening.”
At the center of the pit a light flashed and an orb of golden plasma started expanding into the space. It expanded until it was nearly as large as the platform that was there only moments before.
“Let’s go!” Bartholomew said and then, without warning, leapt into the sphere and vanished.
“God damnit,” Skye exclaimed running his hands through his hair. “Are you kidding me!?”
“Looks like we don’t have a choice,” Odys said.
“Well, here goes nothing,” Cindy said and then leapt after Bartholomew into the light.
“Ugh,” Rachel grunted with disgust and then leapt after Cindy.
“Don’t take too long to decide, you two,” Tiffany said before jumping into the light.
“Let’s go before it vanishes,” Odys said and Skye nodded. They ran to the edge of the step and leapt into the golden sphere.