I began to follow The Infernal Prince, crawling along the walls so that I wouldn't be spotted. The suit-man seemed to be doing a lot of talking and gesturing, and whenever he turned his back (but sometimes even before that) the Prince mocked him by pulling faces or flipping him the bird. It was really very entertaining to watch, and I was glad to know that demonic royalty had a sense of humor.
At one point there was a loud commotion from a corner of the Troll Market—the smashing of wood, a man's voice yelling and a voice I recognized as Mister Wink's roaring back. It sounded like he was beating someone to a pulp. The Prince was finally rid of the suit-man as he hastened his pace and from my vantage point as I followed him I could see Wink standing outside of the Word Smith's store.
Well, standing doesn't quite describe what was going on. Wink was twirling in circles, trying in vain to catch a slippery something that spun and slid every which-way to avoid his hammering metal fist.
I quickly discovered why exactly he was trying to beat the guy, because Princess Nuala stood appearing horrified not too far away.
"Wink!" I shouted down on an impulse. "Wink! Look! It's Princess Nuala!"
This distracted him long enough for The Prince to pull out a cigar, light it, and yank a massive gun out of a holster on his hip. He fired four shots at Wink, which all thankfully glanced off his metal hand with no more than sparks, and I bit my lip in an effort to keep my mouth shut.
I practically fell to the ground in my haste to reach it, and by the time I had Wink's target had gotten to Nuala's side. He appeared to be some variety of fish-man—there are so many of those irksome sub-species when it comes to humanoid creatures—wearing water-filled goggles, a black wetsuit, and a breathing apparatus covering his gills. He was the one I'd bumped into earlier!
"Get outta here, Blue," The Prince told the fish-man, eyeing me as he puffed on his cigar.
"Yes," the one called Blue said. "Uh, come with me, Your Highness." He led her away, and the only one standing between them and Wink was The Prince.
The Prince pointed at me, glowering through his cigar smoke, and growled, "You stay put."
I didn't know what else to do other than comply. It was unlikely I could retrieve the Princess without Wink's help, and the only way I could get Wink's help was to help Wink. All the while every fiber of my being wanted to obey the demonic Prince.
Turning to Wink, The Prince went on, "And you—"
"OUT OF MY WAY, BEAST!!" Wink roared in response.
"Lemme put this to you as delicately as I can."
Wink clenched his mechanical fist, drew it back and launched it into The Prince's face, smashing his cigar into his face and knocking him off his feet. He didn't seem fazed in the least, however, except for one little thing…
"My cigar!" he ground out, pulling the destroyed thing out of the puddle. "It was Cuban! Now you've pissed me off!"
Wink reeled in his fist and flexed the fingers a bit to get them in their proper places again. "There we go," he mumbled as he advanced on The Prince, who was looking for something else in the puddle's murky depths.
He found it—his gun—but it was too late. Wink hauled him up by his trench coat and lifted The Prince high over his head as if he weighed little to nothing.
"Oh, crap!"
Wink roared wordlessly and chucked him clear across the Market, just past where the Berghbat had perished. I wasn't about to follow the enraged troll on his rampage—maybe climb a couple walls and observe, but not tail him so closely—but he grabbed my arm with his flesh hand and hauled me along, snarling trollish curses against demonkind and telling me that I'd better start being useful.
I guess I was useful, in a way. As soon as we came upon The Prince, struggling to his feet, Wink tossed me at him like a sack of bricks. He batted me aside with his stone hand and I smacked into a wall, suddenly knowing exactly how a bug feels when it smacks into a windshield.
The two beasts duked it out for a while, The Prince getting in a good volley of punches to Wink's stomach. But Wink's smithing apron seemed to double as armor, and he just laughed the blows off before retaliating with a right hook that sent The Prince reeling.
They circled each other, catching their breaths and waiting for an opening, and I momentarily thought about standing between them, forcing them to break it up. Nothing was going to be accomplished by one of them pounding the other into mush, and in the meantime the Princess was getting away!
That idea fled my mind as soon as The Prince rammed his stone fist into Wink's face, then threw his full body weight into shoving him through several marble pillars and a small stack of crates. There was no way I was getting involved in this fight! Besides, I was having trouble choosing sides.
Wink grabbed The Prince by the throat and hammered his head with his metal fist. Luckily, his horn stubs protected his skull; otherwise he would've been in a world of hurt.
Of course, he was thrown into a world of hurt when Wink delivered an uppercut that sent The Prince through a stone support above the Market, and into a cart of human bones (for those in need of calcium and healthy treats for the little ones).
The Prince got back to his feet just as Wink stormed up to him again, and simultaneously they drew back their non-flesh fists. Stone smashed into metal hard enough to dent the fingers; red chips of stone and bits of clockwork flew like shrapnel.
Each of them drew back with pained looks on their faces, flexing their fingers as if to make sure they weren't broken. Wink seemed worse off, though he managed a half-hearted swing that The Prince returned with gusto. Wink went down like a felled tree, and The Prince sat on his massive chest in order to deliver a few more bone-crunching punches to his face.
"Now stay down!" he ordered, climbing off of him. The Prince searched the crowd for a moment before finding me right where he left me—stuck to a wall. He took a few steps toward me, but after that he paused and pulled a strange face. Wincing, he dug around inside his mouth with his human hand before yanking out a single pearly tooth.
"Damn," he said to himself, looking at the bloody thing.
Wink's hooves had managed to find solid ground again, and he seemed okay besides his metal hand. The fingers were dropping bolts, screws and springs everywhere, and I thought he'd probably need to replace the entire hand because of the number The Right Hand of Doom had done.
"YOU IDIOT!!" he howled.
"A tooth!" The Prince replied indignantly. I don't think he understood a word out of the troll's mouth. "Ya happy!?" He threw the tooth at Wink, and it bounced harmlessly off his chest.
Wink held up his injured hand, which was falling to bits with every move he made, and whined, "You don't have any idea how long it took me to make this, let alone how long it'll take for repairs."
The Prince placed another cigar between his lips and shook his head. "Just give it up, pal. It's over!"
"I don't think so, Devil." He drew back his crumbling fist.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," The Prince warned.
Wink thought about this for a moment before shaking his head and launching his fist with a snarl. The Prince sidestepped it, and to my horror the metal hand flew straight into a gigantic spiked meat-grinder. Cruel iron spikes chewed it up and fed it through, yanking on the chain that connected it to Wink's arm. Wink's hooves began to slip on the filthy ground, and his mouth was a grimace of terror.
"Wink!" I shouted, and bounded forward to help. I grabbed onto his flesh arm and pulled with all my strength, using my telekinesis to try and shove us away from the grinder…but I wasn't strong enough.
The Prince struck a finger on the taught chain and remarked, "Wow. Told ya!"
"Help him, please!" I begged. Sure, I didn't particularly like Wink, but I wasn't about to let him die! "Somebody! Help me! Don't let him—"
Wink stumbled. His footing was lost and I couldn't hold him on my own. The good Mister Wink went tumbling head first into the meat-grinder, which hungrily gobbled him up and spat bits of grey flesh and metal.
I looked away, clenching and unclenching my fists. Nobody had done anything! Nobody had tried to help! To save Wink!
"Damn it all!" I hissed under my breath. "He shouldn't have died like that."
"Yeah," The Prince said, appearing beside me in a cloud of cigar smoke, "and he shouldn't have tried to kidnap the Princess, either. As for you, you were with him, right?"
"Yeah," I said cautiously. "So?"
"So I guess that means you're comin' with me."
I nodded slowly. "Okay. I guess I'll—" Before I finished the sentence I was up and running, but I didn't get very far. I ran smack into the fish-man and Princess Nuala, and they had the suit-man in tow.
He shook his head and admonished, "My God, what have you done, Agent Hellboy!? L-look at zis! Now we have to leave!"
"Hellboy?" I echoed. It was a rather unfortunate name, but…more or less accurate, I supposed. As The Prince—Hellboy—moved to meet the fish-man, he grabbed my arm and hauled me along as Wink had.
"Red," the fish-man told him, "this is Princess Nuala."
Hellboy dipped his head to the Princess, then raised his hand—and with it, my arm—and said over the suit-man's nagging, "Well, Blue, this here's Scarlet. Blue, Scarlet; Scarlet, Blue. Scarlet, Princess; Princess—"
"We've met," I spat, trying in vain to free my arm from his grip. "Ouch! Ow, put me down! You're hurting me!"
"And who is zis?" the suit-man demanded. "Agent Hellboy! Release her at once!"
He did not obey, and I could not escape. "I'm Jinx," I said, unwilling to give up the struggle. "Come on, you heard the guy! Release me at once! Lemme go, you big red ape!"
The more time I spent around The Infernal Prince, the more I was beginning to realize that he wasn't just demonic royalty—he was a royal pain in the ass. And Infernal Pain in the behind, if you will.
"This girl was with that guy," Hellboy said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder to indicate Wink's remains. "And I'd bet that that guy is with the Prince. Maybe she'll give us a little leverage, huh? You ever think of that, Smokey?"
The suit-man shook his head frantically and continued to blather, "We have to leave! Now! Now!"
"All right then, it's settled. She's coming with us."
Everyone turned and made for the exit, and I proceeded to fight like the demon I was to escape. My telekinetic abilities were too weak to break Hellboy's death grip, however, and eventually I settled for sending a message.
There are multitudes of ways of sending messages throughout the Troll Market, but none as reliable as a Hemitwid. They have two heads, so they're twice as likely to remember everything you tell them, and because they live in tightly-knit groups it's easier for them to pass on the message from one Hemitwid to another until the right person receives it. Quick and easy.
"Find Prince Nuada!" I beseeched one who was perched atop a discarded television set. "Tell him that a big red man killed Wink! And tell him that I've—"
"Simmer down, lady," Hellboy said, jerking my arm. I responded with a kick that, since my feet were bare and his were not, hurt me far worse than him. I could only hope that the Hemitwid would be able to finish the message and let Nuada know I'd been kidnapped; otherwise my chances of rescue were very, very slim.