Chapter Twelve: Two Kings and a Jace

 

            Clary never imagined she would see medieval London up close – and it wouldn’t be a Ren Faire. And yet, there she was with Drs. Spengler and Stantz, along with Homer and Bart Simpson. But, as excited as she was to be there, she had some concern specifically for Dr. Spengler.

            “Will he be alright?” she whispered to Stantz, as they walked behind the person of her interest.

            He was lost on the context of her inquiry. “Will who be alright?”

            “Dr. Spengler,” she elaborated. “A black man in the Middle Ages?”

            Her concern was admirable in the eyes of Stantz. “I wouldn’t worry. Despite being low in the hierarchy, blacks – or ‘moors’ as they were referred in these times – were shown a somewhat fair treatment.”

            “I would be more concerned with how modern you all still appear.”

            Clary and Stantz looked down to see Binx walk in-between them, having eavesdropped on their conversation. The talking black cat’s reference was towards the chosen attire of the out-of-uniform Ghostbusters, who opted to wear the clothes that they had underneath their discarded flight suits.

            “No worries,” Stantz told Binx. “No one’ll notice.”

            “Ahem!” Binx exclaimed. “Do you not see the stares we’re attracting?”

            There were in fact many villagers gawking at the group as they strolled down the street. However, Clary noticed something explicit about the villagers’ stares: “They’re not looking at all of us.”

            Stantz noticed it as well. “Yeah…they’re looking more at Homer.”

            As they questioned this, one of the villagers – a brown-haired heavyset woman wearing a bonnet – dropped down along their path and bowed to Homer. “Your Excellence!” she cried with her face down in the dirt. “You have blessed us with your presence on this glorious day! And to dress like one of us – a commoner! You are truly a humbled king, just as the stories have told!”

            “King?!” Clary, Stantz, Spengler, Bart, and Binx all bellowed in shock.

            “Why, thank you,” the dubious Homer said. “But I’m not a…OW!” He was interrupted by a fierce elbow to his side, delivered by Bart.

            “What my father – the king – means to say is that he’s not as ‘humbled’ as you say he is,” Bart stated, putting on a dignified demeanor. “For we are here on business, not pleasure. And we demand to speak with King Arthur!”

            Binx admitted Bart was a genius to take advantage of the happenstance.

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            “What’re we gonna do, Merlin? Igthorn’s army is unbelievable.”

            “It begs the question of how he did obtain such an unbelievable army in such a short time. I mean, it was only a week ago when he was the butt of the joke in twelve kingdoms, from here to Timbuktu. And now he’s got all of us on DEFCON One!”

            Arthur cringed. “DEFCON One?”

            “I-It’s the highest threat level there is, boy,” Merlin clarified. “In other words…doomsday.”

            “You really think it’ll come to that?” the deeply disconcerted Arthur asked.

            “They’ve taken DunBroch…and I’m not sure our knights will stand a chance against Igthorn’s forces.”

            “B-But we still can count on your magic, right?”

            Merlin let out a despaired sigh. “My boy, it’ll take a miracle to survive this war.”

            “Your majesty,” one of the royal guards called. “You have guests.”

            Arthur and Merlin watched as a group of commonly-dressed people entered his throne room. They were particularly surprised to see that one of them was the famous King Epigram (a.k.a. Homer Simpson).

            “Great King Arthur,” Homer addressed, doing his best to sound like the dignitary everyone believed him to be (and doing it terribly). “I am here with my handmaiden…”

            Clary saw him gesturing to her. “Excuse me?!”

            “…my Spaniard advisor…”

            Stantz saw him gesturing to him. “Excuse me?!”

            “…my slave…”

            Spengler saw him gesturing to him. “Excuse me?!”

            “…and my ward.”

            “Ward this!” Bart griped, punching Homer in the groin.

            “D’oh!” Homer yelped from the blow. “Why you little…!” He proceeded to choke Bart right in front of everyone, including the baffled Arthur and Merlin.

            Binx had enough of the tomfoolery and gave himself up just to end it all. “Your Highness,” he spoke up, surprising Arthur and Merlin with his ability to speak. “Ignore this man. He’s not the king that you think that he is. He’s just doppelganger – maybe descendant, I don’t know. The point of the matter is what you and Merlin were discussing prior to our arrival. You mentioned Duke Igthorn and his army.”

            “Y-Yes,” Merlin stammered, still getting over the talking cat. A talking owl was one thing, but a talking cat was something he wished he had the time to look into.

            “Does that army include three witch sisters?” Binx inquired.

            His detailed query astonished Arthur and Merlin. “It does,” Arthur confirmed.

            “Then we share a common enemy, Your Highness,” Binx noted. “We must help each other and journey to Dunwyn with the hope of getting there before Igthorn does.”

            “Now just a minute,” Merlin put his foot down. “Who are all of you?”

            “We’re visitors from a future that may not ever happen, unless we do something about what’s happening here in the past,” Stantz remarked.

            “Well,” Merlin uttered, stroking his long grey beard. “When you put it that way…”

            “Your Majesty!” Another of the royal guards announced his presence, this one more urgent than the last – and for good reason, as he informed Arthur and the others in the throne room, “An undead army is attacking the kingdom!”

            “W-W-What?!” Arthur panicked.

            Before they knew it, the army itself stormed into the throne room, claiming the life of the royal guard along the way. A plethora of grotesque-looking, decomposed soldiers from various eras, either from the Middle Ages or the periods predating it. They surrounded Arthur, Merlin, Binx, and the Ghostbusters.

            And then, just as it seemed like they were about to be devoured or worse, a swirling purple vortex opened from above and a group of individuals dropped out of it. Some of them landed gracefully on the stoned floor, some landed on the undead army itself (taking out a few soldiers), and some landed with a sickening thud on either of the two.

            Clary, Homer, Bart, Stantz, and Spengler recognized these individuals.

            Three of them Clary knew as her fellow Shadowhunters: Jace, Alec, and Isabelle.

            Two of them J.G., Sean, Homer, and Bart recognized to be their fellow Ghostbusters (and J.G.’s cousin): Lisa Stevens and Leidy Stantz.

            The others were members of the McDuck family: Scrooge, Webby, Huey, Dewey, and Louie.

            Between the Shadowhunters’ weapons and the Ghostbusters’ tech (as well as Scrooge and Webby’s prowess), they made short work of the undead army invading Arthur’s castle. A litter of scorched and dismembered bodies were left scattered all over the once-clean stoned floor.

            “Ugh, I’m gonna be sick,” Louie said as he looked on the mess.

            “I like the smell of burnt rotten flesh in the morning…it smells like…” Dewey took a deep breath and gagged. “Nope. No, I don’t like it. Ugh! I don’t like it all! Anyone carrying any air freshener?!”

            After the victory, Clary approached the one Shadowhunter she knew all too well. “Jace, what are you doing here?!”

            Jace smirked and told her, “You really should’ve answered your phone.”