Happily Ever Awkward (The H.E.A. Files, #1)(9)
When Laura saw the reins in his hand, she arched an eyebrow before striding back to grab them without hesitation. “Thank you. At least you’re not a complete savage.”
Paul reached for her arm to help her climb into the saddle, but she wrenched it away. “Don’t touch, I can do it myself,” she said.
And she did, trotting after King Hofnar to leave Paul alone in the intersection. With a sigh, he started walking.
“It’s not easy being charming,” Paul said to the unconscious bandit, since an unconscious bandit seemed to be the only person willing to listen to him.
6
THE OUTHOUSE OF EVIL
An outhouse stood beside a stretch of putrid lagoon.
Jeremy the Zombie, dignified in the remains of his tattered finery, waited beside the smelly, wooden box and slowly rotted. Upon his claw-like hands he balanced a silver tray bearing a single scroll.
From the direction of a monolithic tower farther up the beach, a hooded, black-cloaked figure approached. Hints of a dark and predatory face were visible beneath his hood, and impressions of a strong body could be discerned beneath his cloak.
This man was none other than the dark wizard Seeboth, Lord of Shadows. The outhouse belonged to him, and the horrible darkness expelled from his body on a daily basis made it the most truly evil outhouse in all existence.
“Urrr…” said Jeremy.
“Urrr urrrr…”Jeremy said.
The Zombie cleared his throat one last time and then he said, “Ur, my lord, I don’t smell so good.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Seeboth said gruffly.
Jeremy toyed with a loose flap of skin on his arm. “I also appear to be somewhat… decaying…”
“Of course you are. You’re not a butler anymore, you’re a Zombie,” Seeboth said.
Jeremy looked surprised. “A Zombie? Really? When did that happen? I don’t feel undead—”
“Then you shouldn’t have burned my crepes!” Seeboth snapped. “Now stop whining, Jeremy. It ruins the ambiance. Trust me, you’ll feel undead after your brains finish rotting and all you can do is drool and grunt. But until then, no more talking. Chatty Zombies aren’t evil, they’re annoying.”
Seeboth grabbed the scroll from Jeremy’s tray, tucked it under his arm, and squeezed into the outhouse. With a rustling of robes and a great, contented sigh, he settled down to begin taking care of business for the day.
“Let us see what’s new in the world,” he muttered as he unrolled the scroll, scanning its columns until he found the section he was looking for.
Could It Be Magic?
Personal Ads
“Ah, yes, here we go,” he mumbled. As he trailed his finger down the row of ads, he began to notice a distressing trend.
I’m ready to take a walk on the dark side.
Will you be my guide?
NO Shadow Wizards considered!
Want to taste the Deep Magic with someone
who knows how to cook?
NO Shadow Wizards considered!
I’m looking for a wizard with a slow wand.
NO Shadow Wizards considered!
He became more and more frustrated until he reached the last ad in the list. “Hello,” he said. “What do we have here?”
Beautiful Princess seeks Evil Wizard.
I tire of waiting for my Prince Charming,
so come kidnap me if you think you’re wicked enough — I dare you!
P.S. Shadow Wizards considered!
“Shadow Wizards considered.”
Seeboth reread the sentence.
And then he reread it one more time just to make sure.
“Shadow Wizards considered. Yes, that’s what it says. That is indeed what it says. At last. At last! At last, someone wants me!”
A rumble shook the outhouse. Jeremy the Zombie looked up from studying his rotting reflection in the silver tray. “Oh dear,” he said.
BOOM!
The outhouse exploded in a ball of green flame, the force of which blasted the hapless Zombie face-first into the beach. He remained there with his head buried in the sand and his posterior stuck up in the air.
His bottom was on fire.
Green fire.
Seeboth stood unscathed amid the debris and adjusted his robes. “Pardon that,” he said, and then he noticed Jeremy’s predicament. “Good thing you were already dead, eh, Jeremy?”
Without pulling his head from the sand, Jeremy flashed a thumbs-up to his master, but Seeboth was already racing toward the distant tower, his robes flapping in his wake.
“Demog, ready the ship!” he called. “Tonight we go courting!”
“Is something burning?” Jeremy asked. “It rather smells like chicken.”
7
NETHERHELL 3412
As its name suggested, the dimension known as Hell was a rather hellish place. Overcrowded, generally uncomfortable, and with an average year-round temperature in the “oh gods, oh gods, make it stop” range, Hell’s abysmal quality of unlife nevertheless completely failed to discourage a continuous influx of new residents from arriving.