by Jean Rabe
Carmella paced back and forth. Fenzig watched the pair. Caught up in their politics and family tragedy, they were oblivious to him. “If you give him this estate, the people of K’Nosha and the Northern Reaches would suffer,” she mused.
Perhaps I should sneak out now, the gnome thought. I’m starting to feel stronger. I’ll bet the guards won’t give me a second thought. They’re staring at the duke. Maybe I could even pick up a candlestick or two on the way out, a couple of pieces of crystal, trade them for a pony.
“You know he always wanted this land. It’s important strategically,” Carmella said. “That’s why he wanted to marry one of my sisters, why you were wise in not letting him inside these walls. He could have you quietly eliminated, and he would inherit the land through his wife. The land’s position is perfect. From here he could expand, using his armies if necessary—and the armies he’d acquire from the marriage. And your palace is very defensible—more so than his own castle. He’s been threatening war with his neighbors lately, and if he had this land, and his, he’d have a better position to strike at them. He would win.”
“But my forces have grown stronger in the past few years, and he cannot take the land from me in a straight fight,” the duke argued.
Carmella grinned slyly. “He wants the land so badly I suspect you are right—he planned to use the emeralds for leverage. And by having a thief steal them, it wouldn’t look as if he were involved. The people would never know the foul act he’d committed.”
“Of course!” the duke exclaimed. “Once he had your sisters—the gems—he could force me to trade the land for them without the people being the wiser.”
“Or,” Carmella added, “he could have his wizard reverse the magic and make them whole again. He could forcibly marry one of them—what he wanted all along—and you would conveniently have a fatal accident. Then he would inherit the lands legitimately. Everything would look aboveboard. No one would realize there were dirty tricks involved.”
“Either way he would win,” the duke said dryly, “but I don’t want him to win. I want your sisters to be flesh and blood again, and I have exhausted all possibilities within my grasp to do so.”
“Except one,” Carmella said, pointing at the retreating form of the gnome.
“Guards!” the duke barked.
One minute Fenzig’s feet were clumsily hammering down the hallway, the next they were pounding across air. He felt himself being hoisted up by burly hands insinuating themselves beneath his armpits.
It’s not fair, his mind wailed. I want nothing to do with this family or with King Erlgrane. I want to go home to see my father, home where it’s safe. He struggled against them, still hopelessly weak from the malicious homing spell, and thought about calling on the last use from his invisibility ring. However, he suspected that would do no good. Carmella would use the necklace to find him through his thoughts. They’d just bundle him up in a tapestry again and thump him on the head.
The gnome was carried back into the den, dropped in front of the duke, and the door slammed shut behind him. Two guards remained in the room for good measure. They eyed Fenzig warily, and one fingered the pommel of his sword.
“All right,” the gnome huffed. “What do you want? What am I supposed to do for you now? That’s what this is about, right? Another task? The gods know rulers can’t do things for themselves. Pull my strings, Duke Rehmir. I’m yours to command. Isn’t that what you think? Well, I’m no one’s to command any more.”
The duke furrowed his brow and regarded the gnome coolly. “Yes, I want you to do something for me. You’re a thief. I’ve need of your thieving skills.”
“What about my skills?” Carmella quipped.
“I don’t want to risk you,” the duke snapped. “It’s too dangerous.”
No, Fenzig mused, might as well risk a stranger.
Then the duke squatted down to be closer to the gnome.
Fenzig thought he looked like a bullfrog, all hunkered down with his belly sticking out to his knees. And I’m the fly he’s eyeing, he thought.
“I want you to go back to King Erlgrane’s,” the duke began.
“No. Absolutely not!” Fenzig’s tone was sharp, not caring that he addressed someone important. He crossed his arms in front of him in defiance. “Our deal’s finished. You have your emeralds. You have Carmella. I met your terms; you had my spell negated; we’re finished. Finished. Finished!”
“I want you to get to King Erlgrane’s wizard,” the duke continued.
“You’re a maniac!” Fenzig yelled. “You know what he did to me the first time I met him! You know what he did to your daughters!”
“The wizard is capable of making my daughters whole again. You will help see that he does. He is their only hope.”
“The wizard is capable of a great many things—things I want no part of. I think you’d better find someone else for the job,” the gnome sputtered. “Find someone who’ll volunteer for your fool’s mission. I’m not volunteering. In fact, I’m refusing. No. Positively not. Under no circumstances will I go back to King Erlgrane’s. Understand? There is no way you can force me.”
“I can’t go myself,” the duke said. “I’m too recognizable, and I’m not a young man anymore. I don’t have the stealthy skills you possess, and I’m afraid any attempts I might make would be met with quick failure.”
“So I’ll give you a few pointers. I’ll teach you to be stealthy.”
“You’re small, and you can slip into places no one else could.”
“Stop eating so much, and you’ll fit into smaller places, too.”
“Plus,” the duke added, “the wizard and King Erlgrane will be expecting you. They would welcome you with open arms if they caught you on the grounds, thinking you had the emeralds with you.”
“I don’t want anything to do with their arms or anything else about them. I said no. Remember? In case you forgot I’ll say it again. No. I am not going.”
Carmella swept past her father and affectionately ruffled Fenzig’s curls. “I don’t blame you,” she said. The gnome beamed, having found a kindred spirit who supported his decision. “I wouldn’t want to go back there, either, but I think my father has a good idea.”
“Bad idea.”
Carmella took a step back and closed her eyes. She started swaying back and forth on the balls of her feet and weaving unseen patterns in the air with her slender fingers. She started humming, and Fenzig saw a glow form all around her hands. It was blue. And it looked very familiar.
“Worse idea,” the gnome said.
The glow extended outward from her hands and engulfed Fenzig. It made him tingle all over, as if hundreds of mosquitoes were paying him a lunch visit. The air shimmered in front of his face, and it seemed as if he were looking out through a gauzy curtain of sky blue. The color intensified, as did the biting sensation over his exposed skin. The sensation was made worse, as he still ached from being trampled by the townspeople trying to get at Carmen the Magnificent. Then the color became a brilliant blue, then a dark blue the color of the sky after sunset, then it retreated down his arms and up his legs. The color centered itself around his hand.
“No!” he screamed. “Not again! You can’t do this to me. Gods! What did I ever do to you to deserve this?”
“Think of it as insurance,” Carmella said as she stopped swaying.
The gauzy curtain disappeared, and Fenzig was staring at another heart on the back of his hand, this one a little larger and not so perfectly shaped as the one cast on him before. “You’re no better than King Erlgrane and his malicious wizard,” the gnome snarled at the pair.
“On the contrary,” the duke said as he rose from his bullfrog position. “The king does what he does for personal gain. I’m doing this for my daughters.”
“This wouldn’t have been necessary if you would have just agreed to help us,” Carmella said. “But for once in my life I agree with my father. It’s time to make my sisters flesh and blood again. My argu
ment is with my father, not with them. They deserve better than to sit on a mantle. And whether you want to or not, you’re going to help me save them.”
The duke opened his mouth and started to speak, but Carmella cut him off. “I’m not going to let Fenzig risk his life alone. I’m going to Erlgrane’s castle with him. We’ll bring back Erlgrane’s wizard—somehow. And once we have him here, we’ll make him reverse the spell.”
Fenzig was still staring at the heart on the back of his hand. “Let’s take the emeralds to Erlgrane’s instead,” he heard himself saying. He swallowed hard, accepting his grim situation. “Let’s get the wizard to reverse the spell there. It would be easier than bringing the wizard here, thank you. Besides, they expect me to bring them the emeralds.”
Carmella and the duke shook their heads practically in unison. “That won’t work,” Carmella said. “If something goes wrong and we’re captured, the king will have the gems and the leverage he wants—or he’ll force one of my sisters to marry him.”
“Or he’ll force you,” the duke said dryly. “You’re older now, Carmella. You would fit into his evil plans just as well as one of your sisters. I really wish you wouldn’t go.”
She smirked. “Father, I’ve never been one to do as you asked, so don’t expect me to start now. Just wish us luck. We’ll get a good night’s sleep, grab a hot bath and some clean clothes, and be on our way. If everything works out well . . .”
Fenzig’s growling stomach interrupted her.
“Maybe you should have the cooks fix us plenty of food to take along. Hungry, Fenzighan?” she asked.
The gnome nodded and numbly followed her out of the study, his eyes fixed on the heart that throbbed on the back of his hand.
12
Together Again
The pale yellow shirt was made of expensive silk and felt good against his skin, but it was much too big. Someone had taken tucks here and there, shortened the sleeves, and turned up the hem so Fenzig could wear it without tripping over it. But it still didn’t fit the way a gnome shirt should. The black pants worked better, though the gnome was not pleased to learn they were a pair of Carmella’s leggings that she’d hacked off well above the knees. They came down to the gnome’s ankles and were a reasonably good fit, but he didn’t like wearing something intended for a woman. He looked at Carmella and scowled.
“Oh, it’s not so bad,” she offered. “And if it’s any consolation, they were my favorite pair. I ruined them just for you.”
Fenzig continued scowling as he bunched up the shirttail and tucked it into the pants. He suspected he looked rather silly, like a frilly bumblebee with curly brown hair. Still, Carmella was attired in her Carmen outfit, a dazzling display of purple, chartreuse, scarlet, saffron, navy, and orange, so he figured he complemented her nicely. Stripes went in all directions around her lithe frame and caused the duke and the gnome to wince. Her hair was long and auburn this time, her blond wig having been lost somewhere along the road between the village and K’Nosha.
“What do you think?” she asked, grinning widely and spinning around in front of her father and the gnome. “I made this outfit myself, and I was saving it for a special occasion.”
“I’ll try not to think about it,” Fenzig mumbled as he stared at the cooks, two of them gnomes, who were filling packs with hunks of cheese, loaves of bread, and an assortment of fruits and dried meats. He grinned as he saw them add a few dozen cookies.
“Let’s go!” she urged.
“The long way around,” Fenzig interjected. “We’re not going through K’Nosha, not with all the rashes you caused.” The gnome was pleased to note, however, that his rash was starting to fade.
They took the ‘Carmen the Magnificent’ wagon, which had two fresh horses hitched to the front and a pony tied to a rope behind it. The gnome indicated their route around K’Nosha, and Carmella didn’t argue. She seemed to sense exactly which way he wanted to go and followed it unerringly.
Of course she knows where I want to go, Fenzig thought as he looked around the corner of the wagon and watched the duke’s estate fade from view. The palace was just a white speck on the horizon. Then it disappeared with the passing of a few hundred more yards. She knows where I want to go because she’s wearing that magical medallion. I can’t even think to myself while she’s got that on. I’ve no privacy. You’re listening to me right now, aren’t you Carmella?
Carmella smiled weakly at him and took off the necklace, carefully placing it in a lavender pocket and patting it. “There,” she said. “You can think all you want to without my listening in. And right about now you should start thinking about going home.”
“Right,” Fenzig said glumly looking at the large blue heart on the back of his hand. “After we try to capture a wizard who could turn both of us into newts just by blinking his eyes. Then I can think about going home.”
“Wrong,” she said as she held the reins in one hand and tickled the top of his head with the other. Then suddenly she turned serious, stopped the wagon, and jumped off the seat. She ran behind the wagon and returned a moment later, leading the pony. “You can go home now. Really. This isn’t your struggle. This is my family’s mess, and I’ll get my family out of it. There’s no need for you to risk your life for three women you’ve never met. I just needed to get far enough from my father’s estate before I let you go.”
“You’re forgetting the homing spell,” Fenzig said glumly. “That wonderful enchantment you cast on me. You didn’t give me a choice in the matter, remember? I’m involved up to my hairy little armpits. Bring back the wizard or I’m dead.”
“It’s a tattoo,” she retorted quickly. “I don’t know how to enchant a homing spell. I’m not much of a wizard; I’m a much better thief. But I can make some pretty awesome tattoos just by thinking about it and mumbling the right words.”
Fenzig’s eyes grew wide, and he stared more closely at his hand. There was no blue line extending from the tip of the heart, and if the previous homing spell cast on him was any indication, there should have been at least the start of a line by now. “A tattoo?”
She nodded and helped him from the wagon. “And you’re stuck with it. The pony’s name is Summer. I raised him myself and named him after my favorite season. Don’t lose him or let any craven cats get him, okay?” She spun around and retreated to the back of the wagon again.
The gnome listened to thumping and rustling noises as she searched for something. Maybe she’ll give me some of those cookies, he thought happily. I would really like something sweet about now.
But she didn’t bring him food. Instead, she handed him the magical short sword her father had taken from him. “You earned this,” she said. “Now, I’ve got to get going—and so do you.”
“I don’t understand,” Fenzig said as he climbed aboard the dark brown pony. “If this is only a tattoo, and you can’t create a homing spell, then how did you get rid of the one I had—the one that almost killed me?”
“It is often easier to negate a spell or break an enchantment than it is to create one in the first place,” she explained. “Think of a spell as being like a sand castle. It takes time and patience, a little bit of artistic ability, and a lot of sand to craft a nice one. But it only takes a few swift kicks or a bucket of water to ruin it. The same holds true with most spells. So I could erase your homing spell, even though I couldn’t create one of my own. Of course, it takes a wizard to negate spells—not everyone can chase away magic. I’ve just never been enough of a wizard to negate the magic that makes my sisters emeralds.”
“So I’m really free?” Fenzig asked with a hint of disbelief. “I can do whatever I want? I can go wherever I want?”
“Of course,” she said as she climbed back on the wagon bench and grabbed the reins. “I’m kind of hoping you’ll go visit your father. He was in your thoughts a lot.”
“Yeah, I think that would be a good idea,” the gnome said. “I haven’t seen him for seven years.” He looked toward the horizon,
in the direction that would lead to the gnome’s town.
“No. It would be a great idea,” Carmella said as she made clicking sounds to get the horses moving.
Fenzig rode along beside the wagon. “Then why the tattoo? Why give me a mark to make me think I had another homing spell on me?”
“Silly,” she snickered, “that was for my father’s benefit, not yours. He wanted you to capture the wizard, and I let him think you were going to do just that. There’s no way he would have let me go off to try this on my own.”
“Do you really think you can capture him?”
Carmella pursed her lips. “I’m going to try, for my sisters’ sake. I should have tried five years ago, but I didn’t know anything about magic then, and I was pretty young. Besides, I was so filled with hostility toward my father that I wasn’t thinking straight. At least I’m thinking a little straighter now.” With that, she urged the horses faster and waved a farewell to the gnome.
I’m free, Fenzig thought as he watched the wagon clatter down the road. I’m no one’s puppet now. I can make my own decisions, and my first decision is not to get involved with any more wizards. He nudged the pony toward his old home, opting to cut across the relatively open ground rather than take the road. His stomach grumbled, but he merely grimaced and thumped it once with the heel of his hand.
I can fill you up in a few nights when we get to my father’s, he thought. You’re not going to starve, and I’m not going raid any more windowsills to fill you up. He strapped the magical short sword to his waist as he went. I can sell this for lots of money and try my hand at an honest trade, maybe woodcarving with my father. Maybe peddling some real merchandise. I’ll bet either profession would be more challenging than thieving, and I’ll wager they’d be a lot less dangerous.
He didn’t catch up with Carmella until late that night.
“I thought you might need some help,” he said as he joined her for venison stew, “and I thought you might need my expertise. After all, I’ve snuck into King Erlgrane’s castle before.”