Snicker-snack. The limb fell to the ground and I moved in.
I swung three blows which passed all the way through its head from different angles before I was able to sever it. It kept making clicking noises, though, and the torso kept pitching and scrabbling about on the remaining limbs.
I don’t know how many times I struck after that. I just kept at it until the creature was literally diced. Luke had begun shouting “Old!” each time that I struck. I was perspiring somewhat by then, and I noticed that heat waves or something seemed to be causing my view of the distant flowers to ripple in a disturbing fashion. I felt foresighted as all hell, though-the Vorpal Sword I’d appropriated back in the bar had proved a fine weapon. I j, swung it through a high arc, which I’d noted seemed to cleanse it entirely, and then I began folding it back into its original compact form. It was as soft as flower petals, and it still gave off a faint dusty glow…
“Bravo!” said a familiar voice, and I fumed until I saw the smile followed by the Cat, who was tapping his paws lightly together. “Callooh! Callay!” he added. “Well done, beamish boy!”
The background wavering grew stronger, and the sky darkened. I heard Luke say “Hey!” and when I glanced back I saw him getting to his feet, moving forward. When I looked again I could see the bar forming at the Cat’s back, and I caught a glimpse of the brass rail. My head began to swim.
“There’s normally a deposit on the Vorpal Sword,” the “ Cat was saying. “But since you’re returning it intact-“
Luke was beside me. I could hear music again, and he was humming along with it. Now it was the clearing, with its butchered Fire Angel, that seemed the superimposition, as the bar increased in solidity, taking on nuances of color and shading.
But the place seemed somehow smaller-the tables closer together, the music softer, the mural more compressed and its artist out of sight. Even the Caterpillar and his mushroom had retreated to a shadowy nook, and both seemed shrunken, the blue smoke less dense. I took this as a vaguely good sign, for if our presence there were a result of Luke’s state of mind then perhaps the fixation was losing its hold on him.
“Luke?” I said.
He moved up to the bar beside me.
“Yeah?” he answered.
“You know you’re on a trip, don’t you?”
“I don’t… I’m not sure what you mean,” he said.
‘’When Mask had you prisoner I think he slipped you some acid,” I said. “Is that possible?”
“Who’s Mask?” he asked me.
“The new head honcho at the Keep.”
“Oh, you mean Sharu Garrul,” he said. “I do remember that he had on a blue mask.”
I saw no reason to go into an explanation as to why Mask wasn’t Sharu.
He’d probably forget, anyway. I just nodded and said, “The boss.”
“Well … yes, I guess he could have given me something,” he replied. “You mean that all this … ?” He gestured toward the room at large.
I nodded.
“Sure, it’s real,” I said. “But we can transport ourselves into hallucinations. They’re all real somewhere. Acid’ll do it.”
“I’ll be damned,” he said.
“I gave you some stuff to bring you down,” I told him. “But it may take a while.”
He licked his lips and glanced about.
“Well, there’s no hurry,” he said. Then he smiled as a distant screaming began and the demons started in doing nasty things to the burning woman off in the mural. “I kind of like it here.”
I placed the folded weapon back upon the bartop. Luke rapped on the surface beside it and called for another round of brews. I backed away, shaking my head.
“I’ve got to go now,” I told him. “Someone’s still after me, and he just came close.”
“Animals don’t count,” Luke said.
“The one I just chopped up does,” I answered. “It was sent.”
I looked at the broken doors, wondering what might come through them next. Fire Angels have been known to hunt in pairs.