TWINER HAD FLOWN TO the Ardelean farm as soon as Jack had given the Tooth Fairy the word to go. He had made himself into a bow and arrow and shot himself there. The bow part of him had grabbed the arrow part, and then the stick-man part of him grabbed the bow, and they morphed into a single well-shot arrow shaft that sped sixty miles with surprising accuracy. He shot himself straight through the keyhole of the Ardelean cabin door, instantly snagging the beanie off the head of Blandim the Worm Boy and destroying his evil unicorn tracings, which the youngest of the three generations of Jacks was unwittingly about to touch.
Thirty-three one hundredths of a second later Toothiana come crashing through the roof and landed on top of Blandim, successfully smushing him as one would smush a large slug.
The ensuing splatter was impressive and elicited a delighted “yuuuuck!” from the three Ardelean children. Jack III grinned as well.
Toothiana easily sidestepped the goo and spun around to face Lampwick Iddock.
“The flying half-breed makes her entrance,” snorted Iddock in his most oily tone. “You fluttering harpy, I’ll pluck your—” But before he could finish his insult, she had, with a single sweep of her sword, cut all eight of his legs off at the knees.
The limbs toppled over like bowling pins.
“That was rather harsh,” Iddock blurted as he dropped several inches.
“What exactly are you supposed to be?” asked Toothiana with a hint of repulsion, taking in for the first time Iddock’s evolution from maharaja to Monkey King to . . . what?
“Whenever I disappoint Pitch, he devolves me into something more embarrassing,” Iddock muttered. “Last time he turned me into a monkey, but he added eight legs as sort of a joke.”
Toothiana had to think about that one for a moment. Then she laughed. “Oh! Eight legs! A spider monkey!”
No sooner had she said this than Iddock turned to dust before her eyes, as did his monkey troops. Even the unsightly stain that had been Blandim dried up and disappeared.
Toothiana and Twiner looked at each other in astonishment. Twiner himself had shifted back to his scarecrow-like self. “I do believe this means Jack succeeded, and the Mythosphere has proved its worth.”
Toothiana sheathed her swords and scuffed the floor where Iddock had stood.
“Indeed,” she said absently. “Too bad he won so quickly. I enjoy whittling.”
“Who was that eight-legged fellow?” asked Jack III.
“A wicked maharaja, a pathetic man, and a miserable monkey,” she replied frankly.
“Oh,” said Jack. His grin grew wider still.