by Jean Rabe
“And got caught,” she added, passing him a plate of cookies.
“So I’ll know what not to touch this time, thank you.”
“Or what to touch,” she said. “But it could be dangerous.”
“It will be dangerous,” he said, adding to himself that at least it wouldn’t be boring. After all, he was doing this of his own free will. Risking your neck isn’t so bad if you’re doing it because you want to, he thought. And I guess I’m not quite ready for a steady, safe, stable job . . . yet.
“I’m glad you came back,” she said, passing him a second plate of cookies. “I could use the company and the help. Listen, I have a plan.”
Morning found the gnome full, rested, and seated next to “Carmen the Magnificent,” who was wearing an even more outrageous outfit than she had the day before.
I hope I don’t regret this, he thought, blinking to avoid the bright light sparkling off the maroon sequins on Carmella’s vest. This will be dangerous, and we could end up dead if we’re not careful. But I couldn’t let her try this stunt alone. I just couldn’t. Wouldn’t be honorable. Besides, he added, looking out over the sun-tinged landscape, I have to see how this all turns out. I hate not learning how a story ends.
They entered the gnome town early that evening. Fenzig had talked her into stopping there. It was within walking distance to King Erlgrane’s, and the gnome really didn’t like the idea of going into Burlengren in the garish peddler’s wagon. “We don’t want to attract attention this time,” he told her. “Erlgrane and his wizard are smart. They might be able to see through our disguises.” In addition, Fenzig desperately wanted to get into some clothes especially made for gnomes.
Carmella squealed with delight when she saw Fenzig’s birthplace. The town, called Graespeck on a small wooden sign, consisted of dozens upon dozens of mounds of earth—all with polished walnut doors set into them and woven grass welcome mats out front. Every window had a curtain, a few of them made of colorful fabric, and a handful of the homes had boxes of flowers growing on the window ledges. Some of the homes had grass on top, instead of straw or shingles. The grass was carefully and lovingly trimmed like a well-manicured lawn. Others had wildflowers or carefully tended rose gardens nearby. There were vegetable gardens behind about half of the mound-homes; others had animal pens or things relating to their occupants’ businesses. One had a smelter and a lean-to behind it. Another had an anvil and forge, along with the trappings for making horseshoes.
“This is just delightful,” Carmella gushed. “Everything is just so adorable and so small. So awfully cute.”
Cute. Ugh. Fenzig rolled his eyes. I’ve never considered Graespeck adorable, he thought. I’ve considered it practical, cozy, friendly, and boring. It’s functional—not cute.
A throng of gnomes came out to meet the wagon, attracted by its bright paint and the promise of what might lie inside. They were a sea of small folk, all barefoot and all wearing curious and cheerful expressions.
“They’re so charming,” Carmella said, “and small. I can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t like gnomes. Look at their little noses.”
Yeah. They have noses that look a lot like mine. Fenzig rolled his eyes again and waved to his father, who was at the edge of the growing crowd. The older gnome beamed and elbowed his way up front. Fenzig climbed down and was a little embarrassed that his father hugged him as if he were a child.
“What do you have for sale?” a young gnome woman asked.
“Yes, what kind of tonics and elixirs? Anything to eat?”
“Yes! What do you have to eat?”
Carmen the Magnificent stood and doffed her green and grape cap. “I have wondrous pills to cure your ills,” she began in her deeper voice. “I have syrups and creams and lotions and potions, ready and waiting for your consumption. My prices are the best in the land.”
“No!” Fenzig yelled. “You don’t have anything for sale!”
Carmen blanched; then thin lips tugged upward in an awkward grin. “Sorry. It’s an old habit. Fenzig’s right, folks. I forgot that I sold out of just about everything while we were in K’Nosha.”
“Everything?” The young female gnome was persistent and looked terribly disappointed.
“Well, I do have a couple of bottles of lilac cologne left.”
The young gnome practically glowed with anticipation. Fenzig grimaced, but Carmen the Magnificent quietly assured him the bottles really did contain cologne.
The sale concluded—at a discount at Fenzig’s insistence, Fenzig, his father, and Carmella retired to the woodworking shop. Carmella had to crawl into the place on her hands and knees, and once inside she had to sit cross-legged on the floor. All the furnishings were gnome-sized, and the ceiling, at its highest point, was not quite four feet tall.
Carmella proceeded to take off her hat and wig, share the rest of the cookies, and tell Fenzig’s father about their planned excursion to Erlgrane’s castle.
Fenzig explained about the horrible curse Carmella’s sisters had endured for the past three years and how terrible the duke felt over the entire situation. The gnome carefully omitted the part about his failed attempt to steal from the king and the subsequent homing spell that was cast on him for punishment.
“So we need to stay here until late tomorrow afternoon,” he said at last. “We want to reach Erlgrane’s castle after dark. It’s safer that way.”
The gnome’s father was both worried and impressed, but agreed they could stay.
“And to repay your hospitality,” Carmella volunteered, grinning, “I shall entertain all of Graespeck tonight. I’m quite a showman, you know.”
Indeed the show was splendid. The entire population turned out as “Carmen the Magnificent” created bouquets of flowers out of thin air, caused scarves to fly high above everyone’s heads, and made it snow—briefly. Carmella strutted about and basked in the gnomes’ admiration.
“Think of a color,” Carmella said, leaning close to a gnome child. “Any color. Concentrate. That’s it. I’ve got it—your favorite color is purple!” She produced a bright purple marble from behind the child’s ear and handed it to her.
The child giggled with delight, and the crowd clapped wildly.
“And your favorite color is blue!” Carmella exclaimed to the child’s mother.
“That’s right!” the mother squealed. “How did you know that?”
“Ah, my dear, it’s magic,” Carmella said, returning to the makeshift stage and cavorting some more.
Yes, it’s magic, Fenzig thought, happily surrounded by his old friends. It’s a magical necklace, one that won’t let anyone keep secrets.
Carmella let her bright red cape flutter to the ground and drew an elegant hand to her forehead. “Someone in the audience is admiring Fenzig’s new tattoo. They want a tattoo also. Am I right?”
“You’re right!” shouted the young man to Fenzig’s left. “Wow, how did you know that?”
“Then step right up, and I’ll give you a magical one! Carmen the Magnificent aims to please. And nothing pleases me more than performing for you!”
Fenzig watched as his friend was engulfed in a blue light. He imagined that the young fellow was feeling nonexistent insects racing all over his skin. In the end, the young gnome opened his shirt and displayed a blue tattoo in the shape of a lion in the middle of his chest. “It’s terrific! Marvelous!” he cried.
“And best of all, it will never come off!” Carmen announced.
“Never?” the gnome asked.
“Never!”
“That’s wonderful!” the gnome replied, admiring the lion and showing it off to all his friends.
Fenzig glanced at the heart on the back of his hand. Never? he thought.
“I want one, too. A dragon!”
“Me too,” someone else squealed.
“Oh, please don’t forget me!” a young woman cried. “I’d like a bouquet of flowers on my arm. Flowers that will never come off.”
Never come off. Fe
nzig kept staring at his hand. Wonderful.
13
Into the Lion’s Den
Their faces blackened with a greasy soot mixture Carmella provided, the pair of adventurers stuck to the growing shadows and cautiously approached King Erlgrane’s castle. They had left their more colorful clothes behind in favor of tight-fitting black outfits that didn’t rustle when they walked. And they’d made sure they had plenty of sleep. They needed to be alert and at their best.
Erlgrane’s castle, though not as large as the duke’s manor, was nonetheless impressive. A thick stone wall ringed it, with four evenly spaced attached towers that served as guard posts. There was no place along the walls the guards could not see—except for a place close to one of the towers, where the shadows were thick and where the light from the windows was dim. Fenzig and Carmella scaled the wall there, the gnome climbing up it as if he were a monkey, and Carmella using a thin silk rope with a small grappling hook on one end. The only sound they made was the soft clink of the hook as it cleared the top of the wall and found purchase.
The pair crouched on the top of the wall and watched the tower window. When they were satisfied the guards inside, and the sentries patrolling the grounds, were oblivious to their presence, they landed softly on the thick grass on the other side. From this vantage point, King Erlgrane’s fortification was revealed in all its glory. The moon poked out from behind a cloud just enough to illuminate the pale gray stones. The main building was in the center of the yard, standing four stories high with a crenellated, dark red roof of. Connected to it was a tower six or seven stories tall. Another tower of about the same height was set farther back and was of more recent construction; the gray stones were of a different color and the mortar that held them together was stark white. Carmella whispered she suspected that the farther tower housed the troops and the king’s servants and was used as another lookout.
Fenzig said he didn’t care what it was used for. He wanted to get in and out as quickly as possible. The gnome directed Carmella’s attention back to the northern tower that was attached to the building, indicating that was the one he had entered, and they scampered toward it. Soft light spilled out the casement window slits—the galleries along the base of the castle where archers stood, ready to fire on trespassers. So quiet and careful were Carmella and Fenzig that not one bowman was alerted.
At the base of the tower Carmella looked up and shivered. She glanced at her silk rope and judged its length, then she looked at the gnome and shook her head. There was no purchase for the grapple except the window, which was all the way at the top, and her rope wouldn’t reach quite that far. She ran her fingers over the stones, which she whispered were too smooth to make good handholds.
Fenzig motioned for her to stay put, and he slung her rope over his shoulder. He winked at her and started up like a monkey, his fingers and toes fitting perfectly in the grooves between each stone. The gnome loved to climb, and he made this scaling attempt look effortless. He wanted to show Carmella that he was the better thief, and he suspected he was duly impressing her. He chose the same high window as before, and he peered in before climbing onto the ledge and disappearing inside.
After a few moments the rope snaked out. The end dangled about five feet above Carmella’s head. She stretched up with her fingers but couldn’t close the distance, nor could she gain enough purchase along the bottom stones to climb even a little.
Then, as the gnome watched, she backed away from the tower—five feet, ten, fifteen, twenty. Fenzig feared someone would see her, as she was not crouching. Then she took off running at the wall, and just below the base of the tower she sprang up like a graceful cat. Her fingers closed about the end of the rope, and the momentum carried her against the stones.
The air rushed out of her lungs from the impact, but it didn’t slow her. She took a deep breath and started up as if she were ascending the side of a low mountain. Hand over hand she climbed higher, bracing herself against the stone with her feet. The gnome wondered if this was how she’d scaled the wall at her father’s manor, or if she’d climbed the ivy and was immune to its sleepy effects.
It was not an easy squeeze through the window for Carmella. Only because she was thin and small did she make it, and her garments were torn here and there from the effort. Inside, she briefly hugged Fenzig, ignoring his concerned glances at the deep scratches he saw through the tears in her clothes. Then she glanced down the stone steps that descended steeply from the landing. The lantern that flickered partway down the steps cast dancing shadows down the stairwell and illuminated the impressive wooden door.
Is this it? she mouthed. The one you broke into?
Fenzig nodded yes as he moved to the door. For a moment it seemed as if the gnome was living the night of the failed robbery all over again. The locks were difficult to open, one a particular challenge he remembered all too well. But eventually they yielded, and the pair slid inside. Carmella clung to the shadows along the wall by the room’s entrance, and Fenzig quickly went to the largest pile of gold coins. Kneeling, he stuffed only the coins from the top of the mound into his small bag. He had no desire for the copper or iron coins beneath. They spent well enough, but they wouldn’t buy as much, and they took up just as much space. He spied a pair of silver belt buckles and stuffed them in the bag for good measure. He might as well make away with something during this trip.
Just as he was standing to head for another pile of coins, he was interrupted by Erlgrane’s wizard.
“You should be dead,” the old man said as he stifled a yawn. “I should be in bed, and you should be food for the worms. I judged that the homing spell would have finished you nearly an entire day ago. But it didn’t, and here you are again. I don’t care what you did to break my spell, but I intend to break you, thief.” He spit out the last word as if it were a spoiled piece of fruit. “You were a fool to return here.”
The wizard was flanked by two guards, who moved into the room, their boots chinking over the coins spilled across the floor. “My magic is complex and powerful,” the old mage muttered as he raised his hands and started gesturing, tracing wild patterns in the air with his spider-leg fingers, “and I don’t like it when someone stops my enchantments. Furthermore, I don’t like you. The king didn’t ask much of you, scoundrel. The theft of three gems wasn’t such a high price to pay for your miserable life, was it? You should have done as he wished. You certainly had the talent for the task. Talent, though not the wits.”
Crackling energy formed in the air where the wizard had waved his hands. Vibrant green and sparkling blue, the lines whirled like snakes as they moved toward the gnome. Fenzig gulped and pivoted, placing the magical light serpents between himself and the guards.
Then he drew his sword, which glowed a faint blue. “You’ll not take me without a fight, wizard,” Fenzig spat. “I don’t like you, either, and when I’m done with these guards, I’ll cut you to pieces.” He puffed out his chest for good measure and watched the two guards wave their blades. Their swords were longer, and they thought they had the edge on the gnome with the short sword.
They boldly advanced on him, impish grins on their puglike faces, and at the same time Carmella stepped out of the shadows behind the chamber door. She raised a brass urn high above her head and brought it down with a resounding bong on the wizard’s head. The wizard crumpled to the floor just as Fenzig brought his weapon up to parry the first swing of his attacker.
The blades connected, a flash filled the room, and one guard cursed as his sword turned to rust and then disintegrated. The second guard was already in midswing, though he was looking over his shoulder to see what had happened to the wizard. His aim was off as a result, and the gnome pivoted and thrust out with the short sword. The magical weapon missed the guard’s sword, but it struck his armor. Another flash of light was emitted, and suddenly the guard was standing there in padded clothes staring at his unconscious taskmaster.
Fenzig pressed his attack before the dumbstruck gua
rd could react. He brought the short sword up to touch the longer blade, and the flash that rusted the weapon blinded the other guard, who had just stepped to the side, hoping to gain a better position from which to attack the gnome. When the light faded, the weaponless and armorless guard started backing toward the door—providing an easy target for Carmella and her urn.
But one guard refused to take his eyes off the gnome. Muttering a string of curses, he crouched and grabbed an iron candelabra. He swung the makeshift weapon wide—above the reach of the gnome’s sword—and brought it down in a vicious arc. The move caught a surprised Fenzig in his shoulder, and he winced as the metal bit deep into his flesh. The gnome cried out and dropped to his knees as he dropped the magical sword. The guard stepped in closer and lifted the candelabra above his head, intending to bring it down on the gnome in a killing blow, but Carmella rushed forward, barreling into him. The guard fell across the gnome, and Fenzig managed to crawl out from beneath him and retrieve the magical sword.
Carmella stood on the guard’s back, and Fenzig touched the tip of his short sword to the guard’s makeshift weapon. The gnome didn’t want any errant heavy objects lying around that might be used against him.
We’ve got to tie them up quickly, Fenzig thought. Carmella was wearing her magic medallion, so the thief didn’t bother with words that might carry down the stairwell. Bad enough that the brief swordplay had made noise.
Carmella nodded and stepped out onto the landing to retrieve her rope. The pair quickly used it to tie the guards together. “Now how am I going to get out of here?” she whispered. “I needed that rope to climb back out the window.”
We couldn’t go out that way even if we wanted to, the gnome mentally scolded her. There’s no way the wizard would fit through that small opening. And we’ve got to take him with us.