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Lynch really wanted to put on the boots for this one, too. She’s going to be pissed.
The long walk up the hill allows him enough time to gather his thoughts, and get his breathing under control before he walks into the Lion's Den, as it were. He wishes he could say he was going to an underground fight club where the people have a higher pain tolerance than braincell count, but from what he’s read, this is actually the home an honest-to-badness creature called Todd the Lion, one of the heavy hitters out of the Summer Court of the Fae.
Matt has no idea why Laea, his honest-to-badness Faerie Godmother, wants him to deal with this guy, but it runs a parallel purpose with his most recent case, so this needs to be done.
He pulls the black duster jacket a little tighter around him, then pulls his black hat down over his head then raps on the door with his oak staff to the tune of ‘Shave and a haircut’. The response comes as he shakes out the silver bracelet adorned with medieval shields on his left wrist. He shifts just a bit to make sure he can feel the familiar weight of his blasting rod against the left side of his rib cage. Between the staff and the rod, he’s carrying the mystical equivalent of a desert eagle and a machine gun on him, without taking into a count the Dirty Harry Magnum in the holster under his right arm.
He came prepared to negotiate but he’s not above destroying these guys if he has to.
The peephole in the door opens, and Matt has to to look down a bit to see it, not because of his considerable height, but because it was built for a creature far smaller than a human. A small pair of beady yellow eyes fixes upon him and stares. There's silence, except for a couple of porcine snorts, before he speaks.
"Wizard." the wheezy voice says.
"Yep. Tell Todd I'm here to see him about the pixie and the wizard. I'm not seeking a fight. We can talk this out." Matt offers.
"Yet you come armed for battle. There are no pacts between lions and men.” the little creature says, glaring. “You...are the one called Walker, are you not?" he asks.
"Yeah, I am. Who wants to know?"
"Concerns you, that does not. But the Lion has waited to meet one such as you. He has killed seven of your number before tonight, wizards all, and it will be eight before the night is through! You would do well to forget your people and return to your home, Wizard. Prepare, before he comes for you!" the creature snorts.
Matt realizes that the little bastard is trying to goad him into losing his temper. He doesn’t want this to be a fight and he doesn’t need more trouble from the Sidhe, much less one of the Summer Queen’s servants.
But he's got Ian and Moira, and damn me, I can't walk away. Not now. "Let me tell you what. You open the door for me, and I don't huff, puff and blow your house down. Now be a good little pig—“
"Wizard, you know not who you deal with! I am the Doorkeeper to Todd the Lion, Great Hunter of the Summer Plains and new lord of the demense of Cicero! My power is great, and so too, should be your fear of me. Run now, Wizard, and I will not tell my master of your coming!" the little creature yells.
He cut me off.
Matt’s head rocked back as if he’d been slapped.
The bastard actually cut me off mid-retort. I remember a time when the bad guys would at least let me finish my witty line before they threatened me.
He takes a deep breath, and considers his next words //very// carefully, then made his choice. After all, he came here to try the diplomatic approach to things first.
"Well, in that case...I have two words for you...."
"And what be those words, Wizard?" the creature asks, almost too gleefully.
The small creature behind the door was probably expecting ‘I surender’ or some such, but Matt thinks upon two icons who would kill to have the special effects budget that would go into this next spell.
“VENTAS SERVITAS!” he roars, pointing his staff at the door.
A near-tornado like wind smashes into the reinforced door, pulverizing it into matchsticks. He can hear the creature's angry squeal as he's knocked farther back into the Den, and has to stifle a chuckle as he realizes that he was, in fact, speaking to a pig.
I guess we both know what that makes me.
Matt Walker can hear a roar of challenge and the voices of a young woman and older man screaming his name from down the darkened tunnel. He steps through door and over the pig raising his shield bracelet and staff. He knows this is a trap, and that he shouldn’t be here, but he can't remember that last time that's ever stopped him from doing what he knows is right.
Now leaving "Diplomacy Drive", next stop "Aggressive Negotiations Ave". Lynch is going to be pissed when she hears I didn't call her for this. Oh, well.
Time to put on the boots.
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