73: On The Highway to Hades

  Damon was certain their speed was faster than being transported by an eagle. The turtle was aerodynamically perfect for this task. The entire group of them crowded on Peart's back as flat as possible. Damon gripped Gord's belt because Gord was holding onto the edge of the turtle's shell with both his hands. Kim was beside him, her hands also firmly closed on the belt, her other holding Jam. And behind them was Lita, who held Fiora. She had her wings folded against her body so she wouldn't be whipped right off the turtle's back.

  Damon raised his head as they crossed a giant body of water.

  Bruce Bay

  The words floated above the bay. When he was up this high, the world below him was labelled like a map as far as his eyes could see. It was like having high-tech Google Glasses.

  Blayre's palace was far behind them. And they were turning towards:

  Bretbachneil River

  Peart, the slow-speaking turtle, sped through the air to a destination that had yet to be shared with him. He didn't care because the flight was so exhilarating. Except for all the death, and struggle, and need to kill to raise your Metal Health, this was an okay world.

  "It is my philosophical and educated guess that you have never traveled at such speed," the turtle said. "This must be a very exciting moment for you, dragonspawn."

  "Just fly, turtle," Fiora growled. "And I will concentrate on not falling off your back and dying."

  "Ah, I understand. You want to experience every moment. That is very obvious. And my conversationally intellectual speech is distracting you. So please, I will continue finding my way up the Highway to Hades."

  Damon gave another glance behind. There was no sign that Rainbow Island was following them. They were now crossing into the land of

  Progia

  Near a city named

  Voivodia

  One branch of the Highway to Hades was below them, leading upwards to the main road that he remembered led to Hades itself.

  They flew for some time in silence. He glanced down at Fiora.

  Metal Health: 15

  Lita had fed her some sort of food wrapped in leaves, perhaps Elven cakes, though it didn't have a name above it. With each passing moment, the dragonspawn was becoming healthier. Though Fiora had received Notes of Power after their tussle with Blayre, that hadn't brought her near her original metal health.

  He glanced at Jam, who was looking down. It was hard to get a read on the man, he was pale and so weak compared to everyone else. Not a single Note of Power had gone into Jam, which suggested had learned nothing from the battle. Or it was because he had lost. But the curious thing was that his LP sleeve said:

  Metal Health: 10

  Kind: Human, Male

  Type: Rogue Class One, Shadowblade

  Metal Skill: Shredder, Fumblefingers

  Metal Mana: 25

  Proclivity: unknown

  What did it mean that his proclivity didn't say whether he was Norwegian or a Lightbearer or a Shadow Walker? Jam glanced up as if he knew Damon was looking at him. Damon, using his free hand, gave a wave and then stared at the turtle's shell.

  "We are nearing Everyrosehasitsthorn," the turtle spoke.

  Damon stared down at the city from above:

  Everyrosehasitsthorn

  It looked less lively than when they had visited it. Maybe everyone stayed indoors when their king died. Or they were warned that Blayre was on the loose.

  "This city's appellation gives a warning about beauty and about thorns," Peart continued. "Which I find curious and thought-provoking. It is a turtle-safe city. Would you like me to slow my speed and lower myself to the ground and allow your fellowship to leave my person?"

  Damon glowed a little. The turtle had used the word fellowship!

  "No," Lita said. "It will not be long before Blayre brings his domination and doom to this kingless land."

  "Then perhaps tell me the other destination that you would like to travel towards upon my back at a speed some might say is three times the speed of the fastest dragonspawn. Others might say four. I personally wouldn't mention it at all because not everything is about speed."

  "Certainly not," Fiora said.

  "I shall take that as a compliment about my method of thinking and speaking, dragonspawn. But a destination?"

  "Go west towards Hades," Lita said. "Please, dear turtle, turn in that direction. I will tell you when to stop."

  In time they went past

  Paradise City

  And entered the next kingdom

  Riff

  Here was a perfect name of a kingdom, for what was more important to the foundation of heavy metal than the many riffs that made it rock. The speed was wearing on Damon, though. He needed a nap. And that would be his death. Somewhat ironically, they flew over a smaller city called

  Nosleeptil

  He nearly laughed. Maybe Metaloria was mocking him. Then, a few blinks later, Lita shouted over the wind. "Here, good turtle. This is our destination."

  The turtle turned in the air, angling like a jet looking for a landing strip. And that allowed Damon to see clearly what lay before them:

  Hammersmith

  It was not a city; instead; it was one of those semi-circular theatres carved out of a small mountainside—the kind the Romans or Greeks would create, complete with a stage framed by glowing columns. They looked to be made of stone, but gave off a slowly changing glow that went from red to orange to bright white. A distant thud made its way through the whistling air to his ears.

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  But that was not the most amazing thing.

  At first, he thought he was looking at a massive flock of sheep, but he rubbed his eyes, getting some of the grit and dryness out. It was people. Thousands of Metalorians had gathered, filling the outdoor stadium with people and music, while many hundreds were milling about on the grounds around Hammersmith.

  "It's a concert," Kim said.

  She was right. A group of minstrels was banging out a song to entertain them all. The first notes of music were coming to his ears.

  "This is Hammersmith," he said.

  "Are you sure it's not Woodstock?" Gord asked. All of them except Jam had sat up to look around. The people from Hair were easy to spot since their hair was perfect. But others looked as if they'd walked out of some 70s era bands crossed with a medieval cosplay. There was a beauty to it that Damon couldn't quite express.

  "Yes," Lita said. "It is our destination. And at the center of my plan. Please bring us down here, Peart."

  "I shall do so forthrightly and with grace and wonder and the proper amount of aplomb and humility," Peart said.

  Only a few people looked toward the sight of a turtle with five mortals and a dragonspawn on its back. Perhaps they were too busy banging their heads or greeting each other with devil horns. Peart landed gently on a hill overlooking the stadium. The riders stepped off his back.

  "Kim of Earth, kind spawner of this land, I have fulfilled your last wish," Peart said. "And I want you to know that it is with kindness that I did it, for I do not have to fulfill wishes unless I desire to do so."

  "I am very thankful," Kim said. "This was one of the most memorable rides of my life. And I hope we shall meet again in the future."

  "That would be an opportune kindness of the fates to allow that. Meanwhile, be careful of the darkness and avoid sea turtles, for they are not kind. And as always, if you are lost, contemplate the rabbit dung and its place in the world. That will calm you."

  "I… uh, I shall," Kim said. "Farewell, Peart."

  He rose a few feet and was turning when Fiora said, "Turtle, by the name of Peart, thank you. That was truly impressive flying."

  "If rock turtles could produce redness on our faces like mortals, I would blush," Peart replied. "But I will keep my reply short and sweet and not overlong or lengthy, since I know you are not a fan of long conversations or big words. You are very welcome, dragonspawn. You have taught me that your kind can be kind. May your wings be ever strong. May the rock always roll your way. And may the mystic rhythms of fate bring a cornucopia of blessings."

  And with that, like a silent four-legged rocket in the shape of a turtle, he shot into the air and was gone over the horizon in a few heartbeats.

  74: A Plan This Way Comes

  Kim waved goodbye. Only a few of the onlookers looked up to see a flying turtle, then returned to their mugs. The remainder of the gathered masses were riveted to the five musicians standing on a stone stage, blasting out music amplified by the rows upon rows of vine-covered boxes on the stage. This song was almost danceable.

  "It's 'Cowboys from Hell'," Gord said.

  "A classic," Damon replied.

  Gord sighed. "I am loving this Metaloria place."

  "Yes, me too." Damon drew in a breath. "Well, except for the whole 'wizard trying to kill us since the moment we got here' part of it."

  "It has its moments," Kim said. The music was growing on her like a very slow moss. She glanced back over at the enraptured crowd, some with little firefly-topped twigs held up to show their solidarity with the band.

  Fiora stumbled over to them. She was still very much a walking bruise. The only one who looked worse was Jam, but only because he seemed to have channelled the moroseness of a thousand emo bands. Kim felt some pity, as she remembered how powerful she'd become when the Necklace of Maximum Rock had invested its magic in her. Jam's fall from power had been even further. He looked up at her, and she couldn't help but look away. If she held his gaze, he might start talking about white weddings again.

  "So why did you bring us here?" Fiora asked Lita.

  "Well," Lita said. "A plan had formed in my head while were high in the air. Now that we are on the ground, I have some doubts about it."

  Gord scratched the back of his skull. "And what is that plan?"

  Fiora glanced around. "Blayre will chase us until he has, in his words, blotted us out. With Rainbow Island at his command, he can go anywhere in Metaloria. He is following us mostly because he wants you." She said this last line to Fiora.

  "I want him too," Fiora said. "In little pieces that I will feed to barracudas. One by one. But why are we here?"

  "Because I realized there is only one place where he won't find us," Lita replied.

  "And where is that?" Kim asked. There was a place on Metaloria where all of them would be safe! A perfect place. Maybe there was excellent coffee there. That hope drained like a flushing toilet the moment Lita spoke her next words. "We have to transport ourselves to Rainbow Island. Right into the center of Sacred Heart keep. Blayre will never look for us there." Then, as if that wasn't the most insane thing ever spoken, Lita continued: "And all we have to do to get there is to win the Battle of the Bards and ascend to the island."

  Are you insane? Kim thought. She was glad she hadn't blurted it out loud. But everyone was looking at her. "Oh, I guess I said that out loud," she said.

  "You are not the first to question my sanity." Lita chuckled.

  "I never want to see that wizard again," Kim said. "And so the idea of being trapped in a palace on a floating island with him, well, it sounds horrible. Plus, he can hunt us so much more easily if we are in his building. Isn't there a far, faraway land that plays better music? Or a cave in the middle of a mountain?"

  "No place is far enough," Lita said. "And it is a horrible plan. Horrible, because we are the only ones who can do it. Did you notice he no longer had King Fidds' head?"

  Kim nodded.

  "I didn't notice," Damon said. "The flaming rainbows distracted me, and the lightning balls he was using to explode chunks of the floor. Oh, and the murderous look in his eyes."

  "Well, he didn't have Fidds's head," Lita said. "So he either used the power within it to enrich himself and destroy Dio. Or he set it down somewhere, and it is performing a function. And that gives me hope that whatever he is attempting to do is not complete."

  "You mean all we are going on is the hope that he isn't fully ascended to metal godhood?" Fiora asked. "Mama, we're all crazy now, aren't we?"

  "We are," Lita said. She was gripping her staff as if already preparing for battle. There were several burnt notches on it. The place where it had been broken in two was green, and soft vines holding it together.

  "Front toward enemy," Uncle Gord said. "It's something written on claymores. But an excellent motto in the right situation. It makes sense to confront him, especially when he won't expect it. What do we need to do?" Kim knew the determination in her uncle's eyes was probably the same look he got when he jumped from airplanes. Or saw a freshly opened beer.

  "That, I hope, will come to me," Lita said. "I just know that running, even if it's to the ends of the barren wastes of Bytoria, is pointless."

  "So how do we win this Battle of the Bards?" Kim asked.

  "We sing a song that defeats all the other minstrels and bards competing in Hammersmith and ascend to Rainbow Island," Fiora said, as if it were the simplest task in the world.

  "Ah, so it truly is an insane plan," Fiora said.

  They were all quiet for a moment as if to fully comprehend Lita's proposed mission. Kim's heart was already beating fast at the idea of them trying to sing a song.

  "Hey, has anyone seen Jam?" Uncle Gord asked.

  There was no sign of the skinny, sad man. Kim wondered if her glancing away from his beseeching gaze had been the final straw for him. There wasn't any trouble she could think of him getting into that would affect them. Then again, there might be many types of trouble that he could find. He had a knack for it.

  "May the metal gods tear him in two," Fiora said. "A man such as that cannot be trusted near power. Whereas these two." She jabbed a claw toward both Damon and Kim. "Can be trusted."

  "You must have been knocked on the head in the battle," Kim said.

  "I am fully capable of removing your innards and dispersing them across Hammersmith." Fiora winked as she said this, which Kim found endearing.

  Gord took one last look around. "Jam will have to take care of himself for now. First things first: We will follow this plan, and then when we're finished, I'll find Jam and, if I have to, throw him back toward Earth." He looked at Lita. "Now, there is a specific plan, right?"

  "Yes," she said. "I have been plotting as you speak. I have perfected the plan."

  "You don't have a plan, do you?" Damon asked.

  "Well, sometimes it is good for a plan to come together in the moment."

  "'Something Wicked This Way Comes'!" Kim said, raising her finger. "It's 'Something Wicked This Way Comes'."

  "She has gone mad," Fiora said.

  "No," Kim said. "Listen to the band playing. They are excellent. But it is a cover of a song that was being played back on our Earth."

  "It's 'Turn Up The Night' by Black Sabbath," Damon said.

  "And another minstrel group played 'Hell Ain't a Bad Place to Be', earlier," Uncle Gord said.

  "This proves my point. These minstrels are covering songs. And Blayre chose to use the source words to transport himself to the castle instead of finishing the song. But we can finish it! And if we play something new, we might win over the crowd. If I know anything about this land, it thrives on music. It's part of its spirit. It courses through its rivers. Sorry, that was too eloquent. Not sure what came over me."

  "She's right," Damon said. "And I believe we can do it. What say you all?"

  "It's better than being blotted out," Fiora said. Lita and Gord lifted up the metal horns to show they agreed.

  "Now all we have to do is write the song, join the show, and win the Battle of the Bards," Kim said. "Easy peasy!"