81: Heads Are Gonna Roll

  For Jam, it was like the time he grabbed an electric plasma ball in science class. It made his hair stand up, which was very cool in his opinion. If he'd been able to get a gig for his band, he would have had one of those balls on the stage so that his hair stood up for the entire show.

  For a dead guy, the king's hair was totally awesome. Now, if only there were a way to make it into a mullet. And the power of the head was rising inside him. If he could grab a guitar, he knew he could do the solo on Megadeth's 'Tornado of Souls' without missing a note.

  The problem with the head was that the wizard dude—his fake dad who'd never brought him any milk—was clasping the head, too. And he looked severely perturbed, a look Jam had often seen on the faces of his various dads.

  The whole time he had approached this dad, Jam had gone back and forth in his own head, trying to figure out what side he was on. And maybe that's why Blayre hadn't known his intent. Because he, Jam, hadn't known his intent yet. Only at the last moment had he decided to help the dudes and dudettes and the dragon thing.

  But the harder Jam pulled, the more the whole situation burned him—being near such a bright, powerful man was too much for his skin. It was like the time he'd stood too close to an outdoor pizza oven. Blayre was turning his head towards him. When their eyes locked, Jam knew he would be dead. Blayre could blink like that hot girl genie from that show his mom watched, that Jam would become a pile of ashes.

  But Jam didn't let go of the head. He imagined it was a carton of milk. Those eyes were shooting what looked like lasers. One sliced sliced his hair off and touched his ear, and maybe it was burning and falling off, too.

  Then, the head was jerked away from him.

  And from Blayre.

  82: Feeling the Noize

  Kim stood, her sword in hand, as Jam began pulling at the head. It was an unexpected act of bravery from Jam, of all people. As Blayre turned, Kim watched in horror as lasers—no, lightsabers, she thought, because they were like blades of light—seemed to emanate from his eyes. She knew those beams could easily slice Jam in three. Or more, depending on the angle and the number of times his gaze passed over him.

  But then, just as Jam's predicament became increasingly grim, the intense brightness and power that had restrained Kim vanished. This was her chance to rush towards them, even though she knew she wouldn't arrive in time.

  Surprisingly, the head moved in the opposite direction, away from both Jam and Kim. Kim's heart raced as she raced forward.

  Something extraordinary happened. A tiny figure emerged from beneath a pair of hands, straining as if he were lifting an immense stone. It was Dio.

  He had seized King Fidds's head and, in the struggle, was becoming visible again. Six hands were grasping the head, pulling it in a tug of war. The element of surprise appeared to give Dio the upper hand, literally, despite his smaller stature.

  Blayre pushed the head, and Jam was sent tumbling to the ground, with blood trickling from his ear. Kim had made only three steps forward with her sword raised, wondering how it would fare against the wizard. His power seemed to fade.

  Blayre bellowed, "It's my head! Let it go, you imp!"

  "No, it's not your head." Dio twisted the head, so it faced towards the wizard. Then he opened his mouth and sang, "Come on feel the noise! Come on feel the noise." As if in unison, the king's mouth opened and the head somehow echoed those words, strengthening them and making Dio stronger. The song struck Blayre, hurling him backward.

  "Yeah, feel it!" Dio shouted. With the king's head now free from Blayre's grip, Dio raised it triumphantly. It would have been a gruesome scene had she given it much thought, but perhaps it wasn't as repulsive because of the well-preserved condition of the king's head.

  "You will pay for—" Blayre began.

  But before he could finish, with great determination, Dio struck Blayre with the king's head, propelling the wizard through the wall and onto the balcony that surrounded one level of the palace.

  "I knocked him down," Dio exclaimed. "I knocked him down!"

  Kim nearly let out a tiny celebratory yes but before even the thought crossed her mind, let alone her lips, Blayre stood up in the rubble.

  His eyes glowed with anger. He had a look that would kill.

  83: A Total Eclipse

  Damon stepped forward, raising his eagle staff. The gaping hole in the wall let in an abundance of light from the outside world, but Blayre's radiance overshadowed it all as the chord from the floating guitar restored his power. Then, the wizard made a clear, sweeping gesture, and the entire roof of the practice room was ripped off as effortlessly as tinfoil torn from a can of peanuts and flung aside.

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  "I may have angered him," Dio remarked. "My apologies for hastening your deaths."

  "But you have the head," Damon pointed out. "It's like a power source, right?"

  "Yes, I have King Fidds's head." He shook the head slightly, which made the hair move out of place and right back into place. Even in death, Fidds' hair was perfect. "And so I am in tune with the land. Blayre has resonated with the power of the Lost Chord for long enough that it's a part of him. The only way to stop that is to cut him completely off from all resonance with the chord. I am frightened about what the evil dude might do with it."

  "What should we do?" Kim asked.

  Lita pulled Gord out from under the rubble. He was breathing, but bloodied. He let out a soft groan.

  Metal Health: 10

  Gord had dropped quite a bit of metal health and the numbers were very red, but the middle-aged man tightened his jaw muscles looking very much like a damaged 80s action star. Damon really expected him to say, "I'll be back." Instead, Gord said, "I have put out my back. But I'll be able to stand soon."

  Fiora spat in the general direction of Blayre, her spittle sizzling on the floor like lava. She then sighed. "Only I can end this. And it will be the most dreadful thing I've ever done." She ran a hand through her mullet, standing tall as she approached Blayre. "Loverboy," she called out. "When I am near to you, I am almost in paradise. But I now know that without you I have had a total eclipse of the heart."

  Damon couldn't decide whether to voice his concerns about her safety or his disgust at the unsavory prospect of her pretending to have feelings for the wizard. Damon had once been in a prolonged relationship he couldn't escape because he somewhat liked his girlfriend, but never entirely loved her and so never broke up with her. He, instead unbravely, gradually stopped being in the same place at the same time. And no longer answered her texts. She might even think they were still dating. It never ends well to pretend you are in love, he thought.

  Fiora, however, turned her back to her companions and continued, "You have the most luminous hair, Cuddlebottom. You have always been in the depths of my heart. You … You…" She hesitated. "You rock me like a hurricane."

  Damon doubted her sincerity. He couldn't help but wonder why he was feeling this jealousy about Fiora. She was clearly too old for him, maybe by hundreds of years. And she could fry him, eviscerate him or snap his spine in a heartbeat. That didn't sound like an equal relationship.

  Blayre, his expression revealing only anger, gazed at her like an immovable statue. His powerful radiance made it impossible for anyone to get as close as Fiora. "You don't mean these amazing words," he said, his voice resonating with immense power.

  "You are the stargazer and I am your star. You know it's true."

  Blayre's eyes flickered as he regarded her, and he gradually, like a rockstar seeing a gold album, smiled.

  "You hold a flame for me," he whispered. "My power, my handsomeness, my pure soul of metal is a sugar you want me to pour on you."

  "Yes, yes, Cuddlebottom," she affirmed. "Now, release these useless cretins, and we will rule Metaloria together. Oh, the songs you will make, and I will listen with adoration as I feed you grapes, Cinderella cheese and Axel wine."

  Metal Health: ++++++

  Though the numbers above his head were nearly too bright to look at, and continued to climb, Damon noticed they were going from red to orange. A sign that the wizard was calming down.

  "Wouldn't that be lovely?" Blayre put his hands together as if he were holding a bouquet. "A perfect ending. Like the songs where the guy goes through Hades and gets the girl. In fact, I could write that song right now. It would be 'I Fought the Devils for Your Heart and Won and Rocked You Like Ten Hurricanes.'"

  "What an impressive title," Fiora said, perhaps with too much enthusiasm. "That's better than anything your father would have written."

  "Clearly, all this power hasn't helped his songwriting skills," Kim whispered. Fiora shot her a glance that bespoke violence, then beamed a smile back towards the wizard.

  Blayre drew in his breath. "Ah," Blayre said. "You almost had me. But I hate to say this. I've outgrown you, Fiora. To sum it up in two words: Love bites." He waved his hand, and it was as if she were swatted away, her wings seeming to snap as she plummeted over the precipice. Blayre glared toward the remaining group. "One thing I haven't outgrown is revenge."

  He snapped his fingers, and a bolt of lightning blasted between them, hitting Gord, who was now standing, knocking both him and Lita several feet away.

  Damon had been holding his breath, biding his time. The sight of Fiora tumbling, clearly knocked out and headed toward her death, was playing over and over in his head like a GIF. He slowly raised the Screaming Eagle Staff higher.

  "Give me the king's head," he said. "Give it to me."

  Dio looked at him. His old eyes, somewhat compassionate, seemed to speak of all the years of rock he'd played, and all the years of searching disappointment that led up to him finding The Lost Chord.

  But he handed King Fidds' head to Damon, who raised it up. The hair wrapped around his hand like soft, friendly worms, tightening his hold, and he looked directly at the grinning wizard. The brightness was unbearable. But he squinted his eyes and stared at the metal health above the wizard. The numbers were spinning higher and higher as he brought down another bolt of lightning that should obliterate them all.

  But in that moment, Dio grabbed one of his burnt acoustic guitars, strummed, and the lightning deflected away. There was clearly still power in the chords the man could play, even if it wasn't an electric guitar.

  "Whatever you are doing," Kim said. "Do it now."

  Damon did something, and it was very weird. For the wizard, angered by that deflection of his power, grew even brighter so that it was impossible to stare at him. So Damon didn't use his eyes.

  Instead, he imagined staring through King Fidds's eyes, the only man who was once strong enough to face this wizard. And in an odd, mind shifting moment he now could peer through those royal eyes. How it was possible, he didn't question. Damon could look directly at the numbers. He concentrated, and they stopped rising.

  Metal Health: - - - - -

  Minus signs replaced the plus signs. And one by one they began to lower.

  Blayre looked left and right, then above himself, and finally stared at Damon. Even though it felt as if his own head would explode and that of the king's, Damon drove those numbers down, forcing them to spin faster and faster.

  But he was too weak, he recognized in the next moment. He needed more power. If only he had a bandana of endless concentration or a bracelet of ultimate rock. But there was nothing to help him conquer the wizard. To truly take on that power.

  Then Jam put his hand on the king's head, and together they looked through the king's eyes. It was the weirdest thing ever as they joined their powers.

  It made the wizard turn a paler shade of white.