Prospero in Hell by Lamplighter L. Jagi

Prospero in Hell by Lamplighter L. Jagi

Author:Lamplighter, L. Jagi [Lamplighter, L. Jagi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tor Books
Published: 2010-08-17T05:00:00+00:00


Everything happened in a blink of an eye, though, to me, time appeared to move very slowly. As Baelor raised his arm, a figure leapt silently into the air at the far side of the table. This lithe acrobat flew across the table, somersaulting in midair as he approached the demon. A rippling greatcoat flowed about his body, and one hand held tight to a black cavalier’s hat with a great blue plume.

Gliding smoothly past the chandelier, he landed on the long table with catlike grace. From under his greatcoat, he drew a saber. In one fluid motion, he lunged and sliced the demon’s gun hand from its wrist, just as the demon was pulling the trigger.

The gun fired high. As the hand flew away from Baelor’s body, trailing a stream of black ichor, the swordsman continued forward. The tip of his sword slid through the tiny eye slit in the golden mask and pierced the spot where the great Baleful Eye had been, before Erasmus rotted his human face. The demon let out a piercing scream.

“Aroint thee, Fiend, and return to the fiery pit from whence thou came!” cried the swordsman in an Elizabethan English accent, and he drove the point of his weapon through the demon’s skull.

“By Setabos and Titania!” Mab cried softly, loosening one earplug. “Who in tarnation is that?”

The swordsman stood up, and I saw his face. My heart leapt. From below, I heard Logistilla’s giggle of surprised delight.

“The Greatest Swordsman in all Christendom!” I laughed, leaning over the balcony rail and waving my flute back and forth triumphantly. “My brother Mephistopheles.”

“That’s the Harebrain?” Mab gasped. He peered down at the studied calm of the swordsman’s face. “Guess you’re right. The features are the same, but the expression’s different. He looks… focused.”

“That’s the real Mephisto… the sane one.”

Mab pushed his earplug back into his ear, muttering: “Must be the hat!”



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