The Rise Of Sir Pendergast The Great

Chapter III: Nearer, My God, To Thee

"Why should I," says God. "Send two fine, good souls to such a place?"

"To rescue Bean," implores Luci. "She's in trouble!"

"She sure finds herself in Hell often," God retorts. "For being alive."

"This time she was brought there by her mother," explains Luci. "Dagmar dragged her down, in an elevator."

"Yes, I saw," says God impatiently. "I'm afraid it's not my business to interfere with the affairs of Hell."

"But you interfere everywhere else," cries Luci. "You could interfere to actually help someone."

"Alas," God sighs. "In this case, I actually cannot. I truly have no reach within Hell. Teabeanie may be on her own."

"Then she'll never get out," says Luci dejectedly. "I have to help her!"

"Oh," says God whistfully. "Such is the attitude that got you to Heaven in the first place. That's what I love about you, Luci. Willing to risk it all for those you care about!"

"Aah!" Luci threw up his hands in frustration. "Stop reminding me of my good qualities! Just smite me already!"

God laughs. "I can't just smite everyone who asks me, Luci. I want my children near me."

"I'm not your child, though! I'm Satan's."

"Adopted children mean just as much to me, my son."

"Aah!" Luci storms off, kicking and muttering to himself.

Pendergast steps forward. "My Lord," he says, professionally. "Might I embark on this holy quest in your honor?"

God laughs. "Oh, Pendergast. I understand you're bored. The life you've had, your noble loyalty, you've earned your right to relax for eternity. Besides, once I send you to Hell, there is no coming back to Heaven. Ever."

"Even if I was going as your champion?" asks Pendergast. "Just on temporary assignment?"

"I've never sent someone on 'temporary assignment' to Hell. I don't think it can be done. I'm sorry. Maybe some time in the Hall of Warriors will help you feel better?"

***

A stone building with massive columns glows with golden light and is loud with raucous laughter, clanging cutlery, and energetic music.

Inside, rows and rows of tables are laden with pints, beasts stuffed and roasted, decadent cakes stacked into towers, and knights being served by chubby angels.

Pendergast and Luci sit at the bar, despondent over their golden pints of ambrosia ale.

"Hey," the bartender says, coming over. "Why so glum? You two are in Heaven! You should be content."

"Content?" Pendergast yells. "Content? I never wanted contentment! I wanted action! Violence! Glory. To have my visage painted on a mural in the castle, somewhere in a place of honor. That's it! Just a freaking mural! Maybe even a song or two. Is that too much to ask? No, Dreamland didn't even give me a funeral!"

He throws his goblet with such might that it breaks one of the kegs open behind the bartender.

"Whoa," the bartender tries to clean up the mess.

Luci fills an empty goblet and hands it to Pendergast.

"Jeez," he says. "Better out than in, huh?"

"I didn't realize it bothered me so much." The knight took a swig of the ale. "Until I saw the funeral Amalthea gave me. Why didn't I go back to that glenn? I could have found her. I could have had her."

"Don't beat yourself up," Luci assures him. "You thought she was a hallucination, from a concussion. It happens! Head injuries do crazy things."

"Yeah," sighs Pendergast. "Like make you fall in love. Maybe I should have sought more contentment in life."

"Pfft, contentment's for schmucks. I mean, look at these schmucks."

Two warriors start fighting, which grows into a pile of all the warriors fighting.

"At least this is the one place in Heaven where they allow a good brawl." Seeming to cheer up a little, Pendergast turns to drink and watch the scuffle.

Luci follows suit, giggling at the more vicious punches. "Man, how have I never been here before?"

"You had to have died while in service to your king," explains Pendergast. "Or your lady, or country, or while resisting temptation."

"Who's gotten in here for that last one?"

Now Pendergast chuckles. "Pfft, not a soul."

They toast their goblets, grinning across breaking glass and cracking jaws.

***

With the clouds of Heaven a magenta sunset color, Pendergast and Luci stumble out of the Hall of Warriors, their pupils largely dilated.

"Whoa," says Luci.

"Yeah," agrees Pendergast.

"Standing up too fast sucks!"

They weave, then their pupils shrink back down to normal as they right themselves.

"That's better," says Luci. "I can't believe we're incapable of getting drunk in Heaven!"

"I wish there was something," muses Pendergast. "To get that song about Aloysius the Repititious out of my head!" Pendergast swirls the clouds into a vision pool at his feet.

In it, it is nighttime. Amalthea sleeps, naked, inside a massive tree. Her bed is a soft-looking flower, surrounded by random trinkets and glowing plants. A dirk rests in her hand, the sheath bearing Pendergast's crest.

In Heaven, Pendergast puts a hand on his heart and has to bite back tears.

"Blech," cries Luci. "Let's check on Bean."

The vision changes to Bean in Hell, still hiding. But this time, in disguise, in a different alley.

"Hold on," Luci squints, staring at her surroundings. "Yes! I know where that is! We have to get to her, before she moves again!"

"We?" asks Pendergast. "But, I don't have a body waiting for me."

"Come on," goads Luci. "We'll find you a new one. We'll use Turbish, or Mertz."

"I do not want Turbish or Mertz's bodies."

Luci winks. "Think about seeing Amalthea again."

Pendergast thinks about it. "I do not want Turbish or Mertz's bodies."

"Fine," concedes Luci. "Fair enough. I'll just go by myself, then."

God appears in front of them, out of nowhere. Throne, Jerry, the works.

"You are not," He bellows. "Going to Hell, young man! And that! Is! FINAL!"