Fenzig's Fortune_A Gnome's Tale
Page 15
“I’d make him fit.” She snatched up a couple of beautiful scarves she’d found amid the treasure and used them to gag and tie the wizard. She checked him over very carefully, as for an instant she feared she’d killed him with her blow. If he were dead, her sisters would forever be emeralds on her father’s mantel. Carmella breathed a sigh of relief. The wizard still lived—he was breathing shallowly, but regularly. He would wake up soon, and he’d likely have a headache to go with the growing bump on his head.
This was indeed an excellent plan, Fenzig thought as he surveyed their trussed-up captives. We didn’t have to search for the wizard; setting off his magical alarm brought him right to us. Now, let’s get out of here. We’ll go down the stairs and out one of the doors along the casements, with the wizard in tow. We can easily carry him between the two of us. A proverbial piece of cake.
“Fenzig!” she whispered harshly. “Change in plans! Give me your ring! Now!”
Why? What could you possibly want with an invisibility ring? It has only one use left, and it’s mine. You have a magic medallion.
“Give it to me, please,” she implored. “There’s no time to explain. Things have just gone very wrong.”
No, he thought. You can’t have all the magical jewelry you see.
“Then forgive me,” she said. Carmella launched herself at him just as the sound of many footsteps reached the gnome’s ears. “More guards are coming, and we don’t have a chance against them.”
So you’re going to escape and leave me here! Fenzig’s mind screamed. What about the wizard and your sisters? Are you giving up on your sisters? Her strong arms pinned him to the floor, and she pulled the ring off his finger and placed it on one of her own.
“No, I’m not going to leave you here,” she whispered, “but the wizard and the guards saw you. They didn’t see me, and I intend to keep it that way.” That said, she disappeared just as the clamor of footsteps coming up the stairs reached the gnome’s ears.
“Some partner you turned out to be,” the gnome sputtered. “I told your father I work alone, and I should have kept it that way.” She must have known the guards were coming, the gnome angrily mused, because of her medallion. She read their thoughts. But she could have warned me. She could have . . .
A dozen men in chain mail burst into the room. These guards were armed with broadswords and looked much more formidable than the ones lying at Fenzig’s feet. But he wasn’t going down without a fight. He had no desire to return to King Erlgrane’s dungeon and whatever fate might await him there. Fenzig cursed, flourished his magical blade, and advanced.
Bad odds, he thought, impossible odds. But I’ve got magic on my side, and I’m mad. I think I’m much better with this thing when I’m mad. He swung the sword up to strike the oncoming blade of the lead fighter. There was a flash, and the man’s weapon rusted.
Fenzig barreled into another, the tip of his sword sliding across the armor of three men in the process. A trio of flashes filled the air, and before any of the men could react, the gnome swung his weapon up to strike at their blades, rendering them rusted and useless. In the space of a few heartbeats, the little thief had reduced the effectiveness of his foes by a third.
Two others went down, tripping over a long brass candleholder that someone had thrust at their feet. Well, at least Carmella is doing something, Fenzig fumed, but I could have been much more effective with that ring. You’d better hope I get out of this, or my ghost is going to haunt you forever.
Nimbly dodging a wide swing by one of the burliest fighters, the gnome narrowly avoided being decapitated and brought his short sword up. The blade cut through the guard’s chain mail, instantly rusting it, but then kept on going, digging into the man’s abdomen. Fenzig stepped back and tugged the sword free. A pained look grew on the man’s face, and Fenzig frowned. The gnome watched the man clutch at his wound and pitch over. His angry fellows rushed the gnome, and it was all Fenzig could do to parry their attacks.
“Look out for his sword!” one of the more astute fighters bellowed. “It’s magic!”
Despite the warning, the room was filled with flashes of light as the guards’ blades struck the gnome’s and instantly rusted and fell apart. Fenzig dashed between the legs of two men who had given up on weapons and were simply trying to grab the little thief.
I think I killed someone, Fenzig thought as he swung his blade around to strike the side of one of his assailants. A flash resulted, and another fighter was left in padded clothes. Two more men went down behind him, struck from behind by a chest tossed by an invisible Carmella. I’ve never killed anyone before, the gnome thought with dismay. And I don’t want to have to do it again. Ever.
Fenzig’s heart pounded from fear and exertion. His face was red, and he took in great gulps of air as he danced over the tops of coins and eluded the swords and fists of the fighters. Seven men, all who were left standing of the dozen who’d attacked, were after him. After a few more thrusts with his short sword, Fenzig had rendered them all weaponless, but they were still dangerous. They circled the gnome warily, keeping their distance and looking for an opening. Carmella managed to pick off two of them before the rest rushed the gnome and tackled him. Fenzig thrust upward with the magical short sword, and it neatly slid between the ribs of one of the men. The gnome tried to pull it free, but his hand was slippery with blood, and the press of men did not give him enough room to maneuver.
Gods, I killed another one! he cursed himself.
Their weight on him was unbearable and forced the air from his lungs. He gasped for breath and inhaled hot air tinged with sweat and blood. He heard groans as some of his attackers struggled to rise, and he also heard more footsteps pounding up the stairs.
I’ve lost, he thought sadly. The king will surely kill me this time. Carmella, get out of here now!
Some of the fighters rose off him. Their weight was easing, and he could breathe more easily. But just as he began to entertain the slightest notion that he might escape, a meaty fist swung forward and connected soundly with his small chin. The room spun, the smell of the sweaty fighters intensified until it became overpowering, and Fenzig lost his grasp on consciousness.
He awoke in King Erlgrane’s audience chamber, the one where he had enjoyed the delicious meal. His face hurt from being pummeled, he had the coppery taste of blood in his mouth, and he noticed that a few of the guards who held him captive must be hurting, too. Some had bandages on their arms, and more than one was sporting a bruised or broken nose. At least he wasn’t the only one in pain.
Even the king’s wizard was suffering. Fenzig noted that the old man gingerly held the back of his head where Carmella had struck him. Through narrowed eyes, the wizard glared at the gnome. He raised a bony finger and waggled it at the thief.
“The little scoundrel did not bring your emeralds, sire, and he managed to break my homing spell. To add to the insult, he tried again to rob you.”
The king raised his lips in a snarl, looking all too much like a rabid dog the gnome had seen once when he was a child. “Insolent wee-one,” the king snapped, his face growing red in anger. “I will kill you for this. Slowly. I promise you. I want those emeralds. And you shall pay for not bringing them to me. I have thought of nothing but them for the past few weeks. They will be mine, do you understand? They will sit in my study, not the duke’s. Those stones are the key to everything I want: power, position, property, and wealth. You were to be the means to an end, but now I see I’ll have to resort to more drastic measures. A new plan, one born of your failure. If I have to, I’ll go after them myself. Those emeralds will be mine—at any cost.”
“I could try again,” Fenzig offered, hoping to buy himself a little time.
“I should have known not to trust a thief—even one ensorceled to do my bidding.” The king paced in front of the gnome. His hands were balled into tight fists, the knuckles white. “Did you even try, thief? Or did you just run in search of a wizard who would break the magic?”
“You are an idiot!” It was the old wizard’s turn now. “If you were free of my spell, and you didn’t have the emeralds, why did you come back here? Why didn’t you simply run back to your absurd gnome town filled with mounds of dirt and ridiculous little people with foolish little brains?”
Fenzig inwardly fumed at the insults leveled against his race. He knew gnomes to be a kind, good-natured folk. They kept apart from humanity simply because things of human design were too large. They enjoyed the comfort of burrows, and only a few had chosen the thieving profession. Most were hardworking, honest folk.
“I came back because I had no coins. I didn’t have so much as a copper piece to my name, and you have all this wealth. Sure, I knew the treasure in the tower wasn’t your main hoard, but there was enough there to make me happy.”
“And didn’t you think you’d be caught again?” the wizard posed. “Did you think the alarms no longer worked?”
Fenzig fidgeted nervously. “Well, I thought I could bypass your alarms, and I didn’t think you’d expect to be robbed twice in so short a time. Who’d expect to be robbed twice?”
“And your accomplice?” the king asked. “Who broke into the room with you? Who else shall share your death sentence?”
“I was alone,” Fenzig said, taking a defiant pose. “I always work alone.”
“I was struck from behind!” the wizard bellowed.
“By one of your own clumsy guards,” the gnome retorted.
“Sir?” One of the guards addressed the king. Erlgrane nodded, granting him permission to speak. “I saw no one else in the false treasure room. I saw only the gnome. He was waving a sword about that rusted any metal object it touched.”
“A sword I gave him,” the king said evenly. “A sword that killed two of my men and is now again in my possession.”
I wonder if Carmella got out? Fenzig mused. As angry as I was that she took my ring, I can’t help but hope that she made it. A woman couldn’t possibly last more than a day in Erlgrane’s dungeon. Better that I take the punishment than a frail woman who is barely more than a girl.
The guards shook Fenzig, rousing him from his thoughts. “Move!” a pair barked in unison.
The gnome looked up at the king.
“You signed your own death warrant, scoundrel—both by coming back here, and by being empty-handed. Those emeralds were the only things that might have saved you.” King Erlgrane glared at the thief and motioned for the guards to hurry the gnome along. “I will have those gems, no matter what.”
Fenzig looked over his shoulder at the still-fuming monarch. He wondered if the king was mad. He was certainly obsessed. “Would they have saved me, sire? Would you really have let me live if I had brought the emeralds to you? Or would you have killed me so I couldn’t have told anyone about what I did for you?”
King Erlgrane didn’t answer; he twirled on his expensive leather boot heels and strode from the room.
“Same cell?” Fenzig asked the guards. “I kind of missed the place. The rats and I were getting along rather well. And the food. Mmm. I can’t say enough about your food.”
“You’re not bound for the dungeon,” the one on the right snapped.
“Then where?” Am I to die already? the gnome wondered. Don’t I even get to fret about it for a while in a dark, damp cell? You know, torture my mind before you have at my body.
The guard only chuckled as he prodded the gnome in the back with the tip of his very sharp sword.
14
A Cagey Situation
The guards nudged Fenzig down a long and twisting flight of stairs—the steps of which were steep even by human standards. The gnome suspected he was three or four levels below the ground by the time they finally stopped—deeper than he’d been when he was in the dungeon. The walls were slick with moisture, and the place smelled fusty and very old, perhaps older than the castle that sat atop it.
The gnome’s short legs ached, and he was exhausted, but the guards wouldn’t allow him so much as a pause to catch his breath. They pushed him toward an ironbound oak door, the only door he’d seen since starting his downward journey. The guard to his right tentatively touched the handle before unlatching it, as if the metal might be hot. When he opened the door, he did so very carefully, nudging it just a crack. The guard pressed his eye close to the opening, then breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently satisfied that whatever awaited beyond was harmless, he swung the door open wide and shoved the gnome in.
Fenzig’s mouth dropped open, and shivers danced up and down his spine as he took in his new surroundings. Before him stretched counter after counter filled with vials, bowls, cups, and various other metal and glass containers. There were small mounds of colored sand, feathers, shriveled eyeballs, finger bones, and animal claws. Tall, clear vases were filled with bubbling green liquid. Braziers burned something that produced a noxious-smelling red smoke. All sorts of painful-looking metal implements—small and large—were arranged on a low bench. There were crates stacked high all about, and against every wall there were shelves crowded with scrolls, books, and stacks of parchment. The gnome uneasily noted a few dark reddish-brown patches on the floor, which he suspected were dried blood, and there was an unsettling feeling permeating the very air.
This is worse than the dungeon, Fenzig thought. I don’t care if it’s not dirty, and I don’t care that there aren’t any rats . . . but there are other animals, he noticed as he glanced up.
The ceiling was tall, close to thirty feet, the gnome guessed. Suspended from it were about a dozen iron cages affixed to ropes and pulleys. Inside the various-sized cages were animals: monkeys, dogs, cats, weasels, and exotic creatures the gnome couldn’t identify.
“Move!” one of the guards barked.
Fenzig gulped and took another step into the room.
“Move over there!”
The gnome looked to where the guards were pointing and felt his chest tighten in fear. He was shoved roughly from behind, propelled a few feet closer to an empty cage that rested on the floor near the center of the room. One end of a chain was attached to the top of the cage, the other end was hooked to a pulley contraption that connected to the ceiling.
“C-C-Couldn’t we discuss this?” Fenzig stammered. “If you put me in that cage, you’ll be treating me like an animal—like those animals. Wouldn’t you rather put me in the dungeon where you can taunt me? You’d have much more fun.”
“Move!” both of the guards barked in unison.
I’m not going into that cage, the gnome thought. If I go in that cage, they’ll winch me up where all those animals are. I’ll starve, or I’ll be experimented on. I won’t go. I simply will not go. If I have to die, let them kill me quickly and cleanly. Defiantly, he plopped himself down on the damp stone floor and crossed his arms.
The angry guards picked him up and carried him to the cage. Fenzig struggled against them, but he was tired from the fight in the tower and the long trek down the stairs, and they had the advantage of size and numbers. Within the space of a few heartbeats, he’d been tossed in the iron cage, the door had been slammed and locked behind him, and he felt himself being hoisted up until he was better than a dozen feet in the air, about even with a small cage holding a sorrowful-looking baboon.
“What’s going to happen to me?” he asked the retreating guards. “This is that old wizard’s lab, isn’t it?”
One turned and craned his neck up at the gnome and nodded. He didn’t say anything, though he offered Fenzig a sympathetic look. But the guard who was in the lead laughed long and hard. Together, they left the chamber and slammed the door behind them.
The gnome closed his eyes as he listened to their retreating footsteps. When he could hear only the sound of his own labored breathing, he opened his eyes. The baboon, which barely fit in its cage, was regardin
g him intently. Odd, the gnome thought, the animals don’t make any noise. He returned the baboon’s stare and cringed.
On closer inspection, he saw that its fur was matted, and festering sores were evident along its ankles and wrists. Its face was scarred and pockmarked, and it showed no energy. Most of the other animals were in similar shape, and some were worse. They had no hope or spirit left, so they cowered in silence. One in particular caught the gnome’s eye, now that he had a better vantage point. The weasel that he’d first spotted from below had six legs, as if an additional pair had been grafted to its sides. He wondered if the other animals higher up, the ones he couldn’t quite see, had extra appendages.
He strained and peered into the darkness, his curiosity pushing him. At the edge of his vision he spotted two cages, side by side, their black-furred occupants practically blending in with the shadows.
“Craven cats,” he whispered. “Why would the wizard catch craven cats?” The gnome swallowed hard, returned the almost-human gaze of one of the beasts. It flicked its tails at him—this one had three—and the leafy appendages at the end dribbled acid that seemed too weak to threaten the iron bars of the cage. “The wizard didn’t catch craven cats,” Ferret hushed. “He creates them.”
The gnome remembered back to the Haunted Woods when he encountered the beasts, remembered wondering what malicious god birthed the craven cats. He shook his head. “The eyes are human,” he said. He stared at the twin beasts hanging high above him. “Were you human? Is the wizard populating the woods with monsters to keep people out of them? And if so why? Is he hiding an army of craven cats in there? An army that would be used for . . . what?”
The cats snarled in unison and Fenzig’s thoughts turned quiet. Will I be turned into a craven cat, too? No. The king wants me dead. Though I suppose being a craven cat could be considered dead. Gods! I don’t even want to think what the wizard is going to do to me. Give me four ears and shave my head? Dye me purple? Kill me by turning me into something else? Fenzig wondered. Well, they’re definitely going to kill me. Eventually. I just hope they won’t hurt me too much before they get the job done. What is this place, and what on earth possessed me to come back here with Carmella?