CHAPTER#39

"He is holding court. We must be cautious or his subjects will attack you."

"Holding court?" Mike looked at Beth.

"Kind of like civil suits. Or schmoozing at a party. Or whatever." She shrugged. "But it means a lot of them will be there."

"More to smash." Tink's voice came out as a low growl. She shifted the club on her shoulder. "Tink tired of rats."

"Same here, Tink." He watched her jump into the hole ahead of him and land with a loud thud and a swearing streak. "I guess I'll go down and give you a hand," he said to Beth.

"Why?" Beth sat down and turned while dropping, her fingers grabbing the ledge. She let go and fell the last couple of feet, landing far easier than Tink had. The rat jumped down without any issues, landing in a crouch. "You coming?"

"Yeah." He sat down like Beth had and slid forward, rolling over onto his stomach. Unlike Beth, his legs swung too far on his descent and he lost his grip. Tink and Beth managed to grab his shoulders, preventing him from smashing his head, but his combined weight carried them all to the floor with a bang. The air rushed from his lungs and something popped in his back, sending pain through his ribs.

"Husband okay?" The goblin was currently pinned beneath him, her voice muffled by his neck.

"Yeah, sorry." He stood up and checked his pockets. To his relief, the vials were still intact and his dagger was in place. He helped Tink stand. "Let's continue."

They stood in a long hallway which terminated at an elevator door. When it opened, he saw a familiar sight. It was the Rat King's throne room. He sat on his throne, leaning his head on one paw and holding his makeshift scepter in the other. The emerald gleamed in the lights of the room, and he saw that countless rats were piled along the edges, all turning to regard him. The Rat King sat up, adjusting his crown.

"You dare to bring humans here?" he hissed, smacking the butt of his scepter on the table of his highchair. "This is treachery!"

The rats around the room started closing in, teeth bared.

"Please, Your Majesty!" The speaker put himself between them and the rats, his hands outstretched. "They have come to get rid of the doll."

The rats withdrew, glittering eyes looking to one another and then the Rat King.

"Your champion has been defeated," the Rat king informed them. "We have trapped her in a church where she can do no harm."

"False." Beth spoke now, her eyes narrowing at the king. "Whatever prison you can put her in is temporary at best and will only stoke her fury."

"Who is this creature who speaks so freely in my court?" the king demanded.

"I'm a lawyer," Beth told them. "And I'm here to straighten this out." Mike nearly laughed when he saw the rats move away from her. It was clear they were uncertain what the word lawyer meant, and Beth showed no fear of them.

"Speak, lawyer." The Rat King stroked his beard.

"We are here to retrieve our friend Jenny. You destroyed her home in your attempt to scare us out of ours. If you let us retrieve her in peace, we would be happy to let you keep the rooms you have already claimed outside of the main house."

"You think you can come here and negotiate terms with me? I will accept nothing except your absolute surrender." He waved his scepter, the emerald glowing with a sinister light. "Even now, the portal to her church is being sealed as we speak. When we finish, she will be across the great waters in the old country."

"Seriously?" Mike stepped in front of Beth, his hand on the dagger. "We came here once to greet you with open arms and you dropped us down a hole. You trash my house, release dangerous spirits, and now you're going to trap my friend somewhere we can't find her?"

"Silence!" He slammed the scepter down again, the light flashing. From behind the highchair, a dark shape stepped free, drawing its blade. The suit of armor gleamed in the light of the desk lamp, the rats around it cheering wildly. The visor was up, and Mike could tell that it was empty. It was yet another automaton.

The Rat King pointed the scepter at Mike. The emerald sent a beam of light into the the suit of armor, light that swirled around it like a swarm of fireflies. "Kill him," he ordered. The suit of armor charged at Mike, blade held low to stab him in the gut.

"Fuck!" Mike braced himself for impact, but it never came. Tink had stepped around him, bringing down her heavy club on the outstretched sword. The club struck hard enough that it ripped the gauntlet holding the sword free of the suit.

"Tink hate metal man!"

She charged the armor, clobbering its legs. The metal bent inward, the suit limping awkwardly in a circle, still trying to get at Mike. She pounded it with the club, knocking it on to the ground where she stood over it, hollering and caving in the breastplate. She grabbed the helmet and ripped it off, tossing it into the crowd of rats that had been stunned into silence. Some of the closer ones ran at her, claws outstretched.

"Tink hate filthy pooping rats!"

Tink's movements seemed clumsy at first, but Mike realized that she was swinging the club hard enough that her whole body moved with it. She was using her entire body as a counterweight, allowing her swings to carry her around in a steadily growing circle. The first rat that made it to her was smashed, its limp body colliding with the one behind it. Tink was vicious, bringing the club around to kill those brave enough to get near her.

"And Tink hate you!"