Cretaceous Clay And The Ninth Ring
Page 17
~~~~~~
Nimrod twirled his staff and chanted an incantation. A fire ball appeared over his head. Flames shot from the ball. The ball drew a pentagram over his head. The children stared at the pentagram and oohed and ahhed. A few exchanged whispers and others ribbed their friends.
“Your new mascot is not a silly frog,” said Nimrod.
He lifted his staff, and pointed its foot at the one free wall and mumbled an incantation.
White fire flared in the staff’s stone and flashed down the shaft. A ray shot from the end of his staff and scored the wall. The ray scorched the paint. In seconds, the ray marked the sign of the Capricorn.
“Can you all hear me?” There were nods all around. “Look at the pretty drawing, and listen to my voice.”
He pointed the staff at the assembled students and teachers, and mumbled another incantation. Their faces went slack and their eyes glazed over.
“All of the first born stand up,” said Nimrod. Almost all of the children and the teachers stood up.
“A plentitude of riches,” he muttered. With a few commands, he culled the students. He selected thirteen boys not quite old enough to shave.
“Helter shall be your new teacher. Line up boys.”
Unable to disobey, the boys clambered over their classmates. They jogged up to Helter and queued up in front of the fat dwarf. They formed a single line as they were taught to do. Pleased with himself, he assessed the group. Good of you to volunteer.
Nimrod slammed the floor with his staff, and puffed out his chest. “Skelter, I think we’re done here.”
“What will we do with the others, master?” Skelter waved at the assembled students and teachers.
Why is it so difficult to get good henchmen these days? Nimrod hung his head. “Skelter, did you bring those gas canisters I told you to bring?”
“Yes master, I’ve got them right here.” He patted his backpack.
“Oh good, Skelter, I was afraid I was going to have to send you back to my airship to get them. What do you think the canisters are for?”
“I don’t know master.”
“What’s in them, Skelter? Laughing gas? Perfume? Smoke bombs designed by the special effects department for use when the director needs to hide a trap door?”
“The canisters have magical poison in them, master.”
“Ah, good,” sighed Nimrod. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
The warlock gripped his staff, and struggled to control his temper. “We’re going to leave now. You wait. When we’ve gone, set the timers on the canisters to three minutes. Leave the canisters here. They’re marked with the emblems of the Martian War Maker to cast blame on Mars. Return to the airship. If you get lost, you will have to walk back to the lair. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
Nimrod strutted out of the gymnasium. Falling in behind his master, the heavy dwarf followed the warlock. Obediently the boys trailed after the malevolent Pied Piper.