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Lord Corvin awoke to the sensation of falling. Which was odd, because he was currently in his best carriage. Why was he sleeping in a falling carriage? He was briefly reminded of the story of Philip’s brother and Guy’s mother plunging to their deaths. He had a moment to regret the lack of a carnal partner before the carriage struck the ground. He heard the wheels collapse as he was jolted about from the landing. Fortunately, he himself was none the worse for wear, so he stepped out of the wreckage to see what he could see.
Corvin looked about and couldn’t believe his eyes. The landscape was awash in colors, from the vibrant roofs on the crooked houses to the shocking yellow bricks paving the road. But what really caught his eye was the group of people dressed in outrageous costumes containing all the colors of the rainbow. They were short, every one of them smaller than Sheridan, and every one of them singing and dancing in the streets. It looked like they were having a magnificent celebration, and if there was one thing Corvin adored, it was a good party. He headed towards the crowd.
They all cheered when they saw him. “Three cheers for our red haired savior!” they cried. One of them came forward and presented Corvin with a wicker basket.
Corvin took the basket and peered inside. It contained a rather large beet. “Thank you, I guess. My hair is russet, actually, and what did I save you from?” he asked.
“That!” they shouted, pointing back to where he came.
Corvin turned around and saw a pair of stockinged feet poking out from under the wreckage of his carriage. “Oh, dear. It wasn’t my intention to squash anyone. Who was it?”
“That was my sister, the Wicked Witch Eleanor,” hissed a voice from above. “Who are you who dares to challenge us?”
Corvin was vaguely aware of the little folk running off in a panic as he looked over the woman hovering in the air above him. She sat upon a broomstick of all things, and somehow managed to make it look like a regal conveyance. Her face was set in a haughty expression as she looked down her nose at him. For some reason her skin was the color of an unripe banana. In spite of all that she looked vaguely familiar. “I am Viscount Corvin,” he began, but was interrupted.
“I’ve heard of you,” the green-faced woman sniffed. “The reputation of the Devil’s Lord extends to this side of the rainbow. You may have bested my sister, but I swear on my broomstick you’ll never take the magic beet!”
Corvin had no idea what to say to that, especially considering the contents of the basket in his hands. Fortunately he was spared the need to form a response by the arrival of another person.
“Oh, leave him alone, Auntie. It’s obvious he has no idea what’s going on here,” came another voice from above. Corvin looked up higher and was greeted by an unusual sight, which was saying something after all he’d been through in the last few minutes. But it wasn’t every day you saw someone floating through the sky in a giant bubble. Especially not a beautiful woman in a gorgeous sparkling pink dress.
“Good day, Madam. You are correct, I do not know what is happening or how I came to be here. I mean no harm in spite of this unfortunate accident. And I would love to know where I can get a traveling bubble of my own. I simply must have one. I can just imagine the look on my friends’ faces when I start racing about the grounds in one of those.”
The lady giggled at him. “I’m afraid these bubbles are only available to witches. I am the Good Witch Frisby. What brings such a notorious Outsider to our lands?”
“He’s obviously here for the beet,” the evil witch snapped before Corvin could reply. “It belonged to my sister and now it belongs to me!”
The Good Witch Frisby rolled her eyes. “It belongs to the townsfolk, and they can do with it as they please. Are you being a bullying old hag again?”
“Old hag!” the old hag shrieked indignantly. She turned her attention away from Corvin and started shouting at her niece.
The two women floated a little higher and continued screeching at each other in earnest. Corvin had seen (and started) enough fights between women that he felt it prudent to sneak off in search of the townsfolk. He found them a little ways down the yellow brick road, hiding in their village and watching the two women argue. The one who gave him the basket waved him over.
“Those two will be at it for a while,” he said to Corvin. “And we are in dire need of more of your help. We are but humble beet farmers. Every harvest the Wicked Witches come to demand our magic beet in tribute. Please, we beg of you, take the beet to the city. Give it to the wizard at the end of the yellow brick road, he’ll know what to do with it. He can also help you find your way home.”
Corvin looked around at the other townsfolk, who had abandoned their celebratory mood in favor of watching the ongoing fight overhead. Then he looked at the two women, who had switched from shouting to throwing spells at each other. Then he shrugged and swung the basket to his shoulder. “Happy to be of service. Well, I’m off to see the wizard.”
The sounds of the aerial squabble faded into the distance as Corvin set out on his journey. The day was pleasant and he made good time. He didn’t get hungry or tired in this strange place, but he did get bored and lonely. The rolling hills eventually gave way to corn fields and he came to a crossroads. A dark-skinned scarecrow hung from a pole, his arms tied to a crossbeam so that he couldn’t move them. A murder of crows flapped about him, stealing away his straw stuffing while he cursed at them helplessly.
Corvin charged to the rescue and chased the birds away. He then undid the ties on the poor strawman and helped him to the ground.
“Thank you for freeing me,” the scarecrow said. “My name is Raven, and I am in your debt.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Mister Raven, and I am happy to be of service. I'm Corvin. Tell me, how did you get trapped up there?”
Raven shuddered. “I was cursed by a wicked witch. I used to be a famous artist known throughout the lands for my skill at painting portraits. I took a commission for the witch and painted what I saw. She wasn’t very happy with the result, the green-faced old hag. She turned me from flesh and blood into the straw mockery of life you see before you.”
“Oh, I think I met her. At least, I hope there aren’t two green-faced women running about these lands. As it happens, I’m on a journey to keep a magic beet out of her hands. I’m seeking help from the wizard at the end of this road. You should come with me. Perhaps he can help you as well.”
“Sounds good to me. Let’s go see the wizard.” And so the two set off.
They talked as they went down the road. “So, are you straw all over?” Corvin asked curiously. “Even, uh,” he gestured to Raven’s trousers.
“Yes, unfortunately,” Raven replied sadly. “I wrote a song about my troubles while I was hanging about up there. It’s called If I Only Had A Prick . Would you like to hear it?”
“Perhaps later. I say, what’s that over there?” Corvin asked. They came upon a life sized tin figure of a man sitting down and reading a book. He was rusted in place, stuck forever staring at the same page. As they came closer they saw the pages of the book had dissolved, leaving just the cover in place.
“What’s this then?” Raven asked, finding an oil can nearby. He set to applying the contents to the frozen man. His joints loosened and managed to speak.
“Good day, and thank you for freeing me. My name is Fill. And you are?”
“We’re Corvin and Raven,” the viscount said. “Tell us, how did you get stuck like that?”
“I was created by an old scholar, assembled out of bastardized parts from other machines. I was designed to fill my mind with all the knowledge of the world. I traded my heart to a wicked witch in exchange for a book. I became so fascinated reading that I froze in place. Now the book has been dissolved by the rain and I’m left without a heart,” Fill said mournfully.
“I’ll bet it was the same witch that cursed Raven and is hunting for this magic beet,” Corvin said. “We’re seeking help from the wizard at the end of this road. You should come with us. Perhaps he can help you as well.”
Fill was agreeable, and the trio set off down the road. Before too long the yellow path led them into a dark forest. The growls of wild animals could be heard. The three of them moved closer together as they moved along, walking more briskly as they glanced about in fear.
“I read about this forest,” Fill told them. “It contains lions and tigers and bears.”
“Did you say lions?” Corvin asked skeptically.
“And tigers?” Raven asked.
“And bears,” Fill confirmed.
“Oh, my,” said a fourth voice.
The three companions turned to look at the newcomer. Then they all pointed at him and shrieked, “Lion!”
The lion in question shrank back and looked over his shoulder. “On, no, really? Where?” Seeing no beast sneaking up on him, the lion turned back to them with a sheepish expression. “Oh, I guess you mean me. I keep forgetting I’m a lion.”
“How do you forget something like that?” Corvin asked.
“Well, I wasn’t always a lion. I used to be human. My father fell into debt and sold my sister and me to a wicked witch. The witch turned me into a lion and ordered me to guard the forest from any intruders.”
“How awful,” Corvin said. “We’re seeking help from the wizard at the end of this road. You should come with us. Perhaps he can help you as well.”
“I’d give anything to be a regular guy again,” the lion said wistfully. “I guess I can take you as far as the edge of the forest. I’m not allowed to leave.”
“We’ll see about that. Come along then. We’re off to see the wizard.” And the four of them went down the road, chatting amiably and quickly becoming friends.
Eventually they made it to the far side of the forest. They could see the glittering emerald spires of the wizard’s city just over the next hill. The lion tentatively stuck one paw over the boundary of the forest. When nothing happened he jumped across then jumped back. Finally he shut his eyes and walked a few feet down the path.
He turned to look back at the others. “That wasn’t so bad,” he said with a grin. At that moment he was sent flying back into the forest by a blast of wind from the sky.
The witch was hovering overhead. “How dare you disobey me, you ungrateful boy! You need to know your place,” she snarled. Then she saw the rest of them, and her green complexion grew darker as her anger swelled. “That goes for the rest of you, as well. Devil’s Lord or not, I won’t stand for this insolence.” She sent another blast of wind towards the group.
Fortunately it never struck. The lid on the basket flipped open and an answering gale came from the beet. It matched the witch blow for blow until she shrieked in frustration. “So be it,” she said. “Go on to the wizard. He won’t help you much in the long run. I’ll return, and when I do I’ll get you, my viscount, and your magic beet too.” Then she vanished in a puff of smoke.
The four of them made their way to the city as quickly as they could, jumping at shadows every step of the way. Corvin pounded on the gates. “Let us in,” he called to the guard.
“Why should I?” the guard demanded from behind the closed doors.
“We must see the wizard at once! We have the magic beet!” Corvin replied, still eyeing the sky for a vengeful witch.
“That sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” The guard replied.
Corvin opened the basket. “Come on, beet, do your stuff,” he said. A blast of wind rapped against the door with a boom.
The guard appeared again. “Ah, you have the magic beet! Why didn’t you say so? Come in, the wizard will see you at once!”
They were ushered into a small blue room where a dark-haired man waited for them. Corvin recognized both of them at once. “Why, this is the blue drawing room at Rookwood Hall. And you look exactly like David Martelo,” Corvin exclaimed.
“That’s because it is Rookwood Hall and I am Dr. Martelo,” the man replied. “It took you long enough to get here, you birdwit. Now, drink your medicine and get your arse back home.” He handed over a glass of beet-red juice.
Corvin attempted to take the glass but his hand passed through it, as if he were a ghost. The same thing happened when he tried to reach out to touch David. “What now?” he asked.
David sighed. “It looks like you’re still too attached to the wrong side of the rainbow. You have to resolve all your problems over there before you can come home. Bring me up to speed on your situation.”
The four of them spent a rather boisterous few minutes explaining their journey down the yellow brick road. At last David shushed them all. “Got it. Obviously you need to defeat this wicked witch. Once she is overcome all of her curses should reverse themselves.”
The guard from the door came bursting into the drawing room. “Come quickly! The witch is writing a message in the sky!”
They all moved to leave the room, but David stayed behind. “I’m not actually of your place,” he explained. “I have to remain in this room, on this side of the rainbow. Go on, take care of your witch problems, then get back here. Good luck.”
The rest of them made it to a window. Sure enough, the witch was on her broomstick, emitting smokey letters that spelled out “Surrender Corvin” for all the world to see.
Corvin stared at the message. Then he looked over at his new friends “I have a plan, but it will require all of us to stand together.” He quickly explained what was needed, and the group agreed to help.
They made their way to the city gates and strode out. Corvin led the way, with Raven and Fill standing next to each other just behind him. The lion brought up the rear, looking around nervously but determined to do his part. They got a little way beyond the gates when Corvin shouted, “Here I am! Come and get me, you witch!”
She appeared in a puff of smoke. “No tricks, Devil’s Lord. Surrender yourself and turn over the beet.”
Corvin spread his hands to show they were empty. “I gave the beet to the wizard,” he said. “But I will surrender if you agree to restore the others and leave the city in peace.”
She cackled at him. “You fool! You gave away your only protection. With nothing to stop me, I shall take you all to my castle.” She waved her arms about, preparing to cast a wicked spell.
“Now!” Corvin shouted. The lion lifted up the beet he had hidden in his fur. The other three men reached up to grasp it as well. There they stood in a diamond shape, one man at each point, all four with hands joined in a point above their heads.
And thus the great Four Sided Triangle of Power was complete. Beams of reddish purple light shot out from the beet, creating a shield around the four men in the shape of a pyramid just as the witch released her spell.
The witch realized the significance of this gesture far too late to stop the consequences. Her spell crashed into the shield. The beet exploded, coating everyone in the area in its juices. Many things happened at once.
“I’m melting,” the witch howled, then collapsed into a pile of clothes and a puff of smoke.
“I’m a guy again,” the lion shouted, and hugged Fill.
“My heart,” Fill exclaimed joyfully, returning the lion’s hug.
“My pants,” Raven exclaimed, as his straw stuffing became flesh and blood again.
Corvin looked at his hands and saw he was disappearing. “Good bye, my friends, farewell. I’m going back over the rainbow,” he said, and disappeared.
*******
Lord Corvin awoke to find himself on the floor of Philip’s blue drawing room at Rookwood Hall, lying in a puddle of beet juice. A broken table and the remains of several tasting glasses were around him. David Martelo squatted next to him, wiping his face with a towel. The rest of the Murder looked on anxiously.
“I see you’re finally back with us,” David said to him. “You tripped over the table and fell, knocking yourself silly.”
“I had the most wonderful dream,” Corvin told them as he got to his feet. “And all of you were in it.” He stumbled over to John, who caught him in a hug that turned into a squawk when Corvin shoved his hands down the other man’s pants. “Thank goodness that’s all right,” he said. “Truly, there’s no place like home.”