Kissy is trapped by Dr. Bellerophon!

I was thinking of poor Doc Spectrum, who wasn’t really dead, just turned into a mermaid by the underwater despot called Damian and inducted into his Lemurian harem. But Angel didn’t know that, so in character, I could grieve. But then Hoot came back from the bathroom, still zipping up his pants. “Did I miss anything?” he asked.

“Dood!” said Bob, indicating me with his head motion.

“Oop!” Hoot spun around, his back to the gaming group while he finished his task.

I turned my face away, catching Armand grinning and shaking his head. “I hope you missed the floor, dood,” said our gamemaster.

“Huh?” several of the guys looked mystified, and I had to stifle giggles.

Hoot sat back at the table, and Norris, as Shadojak, told Man-Tiger all about Doc Bell’s base and his minions.

Rory stood. “Tunneling is thirsty work. I’m going to get a soda. You want anything, Jelly?”

“Jelly?” I said.

“You call Dreadnaught, ‘Freddy,’ I call Phantom Angel, ‘Jelly,’” he explained, which got laughter and thumbs up from the other guys. “You want anything?”

“Oh, the Dews won’t be cold yet. Can I just have a sip of whatever you have?” I asked.

“Sure, Babe,” he said. Then to the table, “Princess has an 11 p.m. curfew guys, how long is this likely to go?”

I blushed. Melvin mouthed ‘princess?’ at me, and Norris commented out loud, “Davey never had a curfew.”

“No Davey here,” Rory pointed out. “And Kissy already got in trouble for staying out too late last night.”

“That sucks,” said Bob. “I mean, it sucks you’ve got a curfew, I mean, just—.” He threw up his hands. “You know what I mean.”

I giggled and nodded. “I know what you mean. I’m on restriction until I’m eighteen ‘cause I didn’t let Mom know where I was.” I explained.

Hoot looked astonished. “Until you’re eighteen? That—that’s harsh.”

Melvin laughed. “Da—K—Kissy’s birthday is the middle of next month. The fourteenth?”

Armand and Rory, who had just sat back down with his soda, both said at the same time, “The seventeenth.”

They both remembered my birthday? But talking about it reminded me, and I took out my phone to text Mom and tell her I was still at the game. She texted back, “Come home at eleven, something to show you.” Mom always puts periods at the end of her texts. It looks rude. I sent a “k” back.

Norris slapped Melvin on the shoulder. “The fourteenth is Bastille Day, doof.”

“It’s what?”

I took a sip of Coke when Rory offered it. “Thank you,” I told him.

“More?” he asked, but I shook my head.

Armand looked at something on his tablet, maybe the time, because he announced, “It’s nine-fifteen. I can finish this encounter in an hour and a half, Cinderella and her prince can leave, and I can torture the rest of you heroes all night.” He added a villain laugh and quirked a Spock eyebrow at me.

I can’t do that, so I lifted one eyebrow manually with a fingertip and winked with the other eye. Armand grinned at me and winked back.

The guys began arguing about whether a Bastille was a prison or one of the carts the prisoners rode to the guillotine. Rory insisted it was a pile of severed heads but with a twinkle in his eye.

“It’s a prison,” said Armand. “Back to the game. Fred is ready to break through into the base—anyone got anything else?”

Melvin announced Daedalos had finished building the glass cutter beam into his wand and had a party buff ready. He mimed punching a button on the golden rod. “Let’s do the Time Warp again,” he sang. “Now, you’re all a quarter second into the future. It gives you a bonus to your dodge and to your attack against anyone trying to dodge.”

“That’s cool,” said Rory. “But I think my dodge sucks so bad that even with a plus one, it ain’t worth it.”

I looked at his sheet. ‘You’re right. You’re getting the hang of this, huh? But it will make your enemies easier to hit with your DoA, so you get some benefit.”

Rory waggled both eyebrows at me, and I giggled.

Armand said, “Dreadnaught breaks through. The minions are not completely surprised, so four of them are able to open fire before any of you can react.”

“Can I get a stone wall to come up and block their fire—I was already using my power to move rocks?” Rory asked.

“You can try,” Armand offered. “IQ or less on a d20.”

Rory made the roll, canceling out the minions’ advantage, and the fight was on.

***

I use my wings to do a wind slam attack then go invisible to fly above them. ‘Jak teleports to the closet he’d used before to take a flanking position. Khan leaps into the middle of the crowd, roaring and slashing with his claws. Justiciar and Daedalos attack the nearest red glass pylon with hammer and beam. Things are too mixed for an area effect, so Freddy swings his rocky fists, and each punch takes out a minion.
 
Invisible as long as I don’t attack anyone, I decide to do my own scouting of the underground lair because the guys are certainly taking care of the minions, and so far, no one has needed any healing at all.
 
I dodge around several of the red glass support beams, wondering if there are so many because the underground space was just that poorly planned or if there might be another reason. I reach the end of the largest space, not having spotted anything too unusual.
 
All the minions I see are grabbing hand weapons and running toward the big fight, like minions do. Freddy, Khan or Justiciar could probably handle all of them, each by himself, and even Daedalos could hold his own in that kind of fight.
 
I turn around at the end and start back. It suddenly occurs to me that there seem to be even more red glass supports around me than before. In fact, up ahead of me, they look too close together for me to fly between without touching them with my wings. If so—how did I get in here?
 
“Air is invisible too, but we can feel it when it moves,” a voice says, and suddenly, there he is, stepping out of shadows, not by teleporting like Shadojak, but just using darkness to hide in. His red armor is black in places, helping to break up his outline. The haft of his double-bladed Bad Axe is longer than he is tall, and he’s almost as tall as Freddy.
 
I move to get away, but the pylons are closing in, and now they are crossing, linking to each other to make a network of bars—a cage. A nozzle appears on one pylon, and the area is sprayed with clinging red dust. I’m covered in it, and some of it gets into my eyes and nose and mouth. I try to scream but end up choking.
 
“There you are,” Dr. Bellerophon says with satisfaction. “One of the surviving Cometeers, aren’t you?” He looks around. “Which means your friend Barney Rubble is probably nearby.”
 
Having lost my invisibility, there’s no reason not to attack him, so I try to batter him with wind-slams and air-lances, but his armor value is even higher than Freddy’s. He leans into my wind attack, and red glass tentacles emerge from nearby pylons, groping toward me. They make a sizzling, crunching sound as the crystals grow and bend.
 
I change tactics, trying to use the edge of my wind-force to get under his armor and pry it off him, but there are no gaps. He seems to be made of red glass himself. Knowing this was likely to fail, I’ve already sent out a whistle for help—short-long repeated over and over.
 
It amuses Bellerophon. “Is that a scream, my dear? AAAAAA? How appropriate.”
 
Then suddenly, Doc Bell is fighting someone he can’t see because shadows have wrapped themselves around his head.
 
“‘Jak!” I can see him dimly, striking from the same darkness Bellerophon had been hiding in. But ‘Jak’s shadowy weapons can’t penetrate the red glass armor any more than mine could.
 
Swinging wildly, by chance the flat of Bellerophon’s Bad Axe connects with the side of Shadojak’s head and down goes the Dark Defender, unconscious. The shadows blinding Doc Bell evaporate, too. He snarls and moves to raise his blade above ‘Jak’s helpless body.
 
But the distraction has kept the red tentacles from immobilizing me. They have my arms and legs in rope-like tangles, but my wings are too strong and agile. I still have my powers over the wind. I can see Bellerophon, despite the grip of the red glass holding me upside down. I move the source of my whistles to either side of the villain’s head.
 
Short-long blasts, a little like Euro-sirens, directly into his ears!
 
And here they come!
 
I hear Justiciar giving our battle cry, “We’re the Good Guys!” and I see them charging to my rescue. Freddy has wrapped himself so deeply in rocky armor that he stands most of nine feet tall with a stride to match. He roars like an avalanche. Daedalos is waving his wand and traveling on what appear to be jet-powered roller blades. Khan fights a rear-guard action against more minions.
 
And they’re here!
 
The beam from the wand cuts only red glass, so I am in no danger of being sliced as Daedalos disposes of the tentacles holding me.
 
Freddy stands toe to toe with Doc Bell, trading blows but neither able to do much damage to the other. Bell’s red glass is too hard for mere rock to penetrate, and Dreadnaught’s rubble-like armor is too deep, and self-sealing, for the axe to reach Freddy’s own flesh.
 
Justiciar arrives to try his hammer against Bad Axe, and Daedalos readies his beam. I’m still blasting sirens in Bell’s ears, but I pause for a moment as Justiciar screams a challenge, “Yield to Justice, villain!”

***

“Okay,” Armand said. “He gives up. You got him.”

“Ah,” Bob complained. “I don’t get to smite him?”

Rory, already standing in excitement, grabbed me right off my stool and planted a kiss on my lips. “That was intense!” he said, almost shouting.

I’m laughing as I hug him, and everyone else is laughing, too.

Well, Armand is only smiling. He seldom laughs out loud. But he’s smiling right at me, and he gives me another Spock eyebrow.

I just nod, smiling back.