by JA Andrews
“That’s amazing! He really fixed the wood. I’ve never met a kobold before. Did you catch it? Or did you have to rescue it? Yes, that’s how you get one, right? You rescue it?”
Mags scowled at him. “I didn’t rescue him. Wink has lived with our family for years. A kobold will take up residence with you if you are kind to it.”
Tomkin looked over to where she’d come up. “A ladder!” He ran to the edge to see it. The rungs were smooth and even, the edges sanded to a polish. Tomkin ran his hand along the top rung. This was his way up to the window. Except it was too long, probably almost twice as long as the distance from where he stood to the window.
“We’ll have to break it.” Tomkin began to pull the ladder up.
“We will not!” Mags declared. “Put that down!”
Tomkin turned back to her. “Why? We need to get out of here.”
Mags’ eyes narrowed and she considered Tomkin for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was overly kind, as though she were explaining something to a dim child. “Do you understand we’re not in danger? I don’t want to leave this tower. I don’t want to leave this castle. This is my home. And Wink is going to help me fix it until it is the nicest castle anyone has ever seen.
“You,” she gave him a pitying smile, “obviously, can’t live here, because even though you seem well-meaning, you’re clearly unbalanced. So I will help you look out the window to see what’s going on, and then you’re on your own.” Her brow crinkled. “I feel obliged to tell you, I think you’re making a big mistake trying to run and I don’t see it ending well.”
He was unbalanced? Tomkin bit back the words that jumped to mind. He needed her help, so he curled his lips into what he hoped was a smile. “Thanks for the warning. Let’s just get this over with. If I lift you up, can you get onto that little rock sticking out? From there you should be able to see out the window.”
Mags looked at the rock, unenthused.
“Wait!” Tomkin said, turning back to where he’d last seen Wink. How hadn’t he thought of this sooner? “Wink! Make us another ladder! That would be easier, right? Then I’ll climb up myself and I don’t have to bother you at all. Wink! Pop into view again. I need a ladder. Ooh! And a rope long enough to reach the ground from the window.” He looked around the room for the creature. “And something to anchor it, just something that will keep it in the window.” He glanced at Mags. “Then you could claim to not know how I got out….”
She was glaring at him. “Wink is not going to make anything for you. It’s not easy for him to make these things. It takes a lot out of him.”
“Okay, fine,” Tomkin said, clenching his fists. “Then can you please try to look out the window?”
Mags wrinkled her nose, but nodded. Tomkin leaned against the wall, and Mags, with a lot of scrambling and two good knees to his head, climbed up until her feet were planted on Tomkin’s shoulders and his face was against the bottom of her heavy skirt. It was partly awkward, partly suffocating. Dust and dirt swirled around his head, choking him. He turned his head to the side, gasping for breath.
“How on earth did you get this dirty?” He coughed.
“You’d be dirty too if you had to cross the dirt flats during a wind storm. Stop wiggling so I can get on this rock.”
The dirt flats? She’d come from that far east? Mags’ shoes dug into his shoulders and the dust stung his eyes. With a sharp jab of her boot, Mags shoved herself onto the little outcropping of rock.
“I can see out!” she hollered, leaning her head out the window.
“Shhh!” Tomkin hissed, moving away from the wall and her dirt.
She waved one hand at him dismissively. The window was neck high and she was peering out, surrounded by a cloud of dust, sparkling and swirling in the sunbeam. “These walls are thick, which is great for my keep, but I can’t see out too well. They’re so thick I could lie across the sill here. Hang on….” She put both her arms out and heaved herself up until he could only see her thick, dark skirt and the soles of her boots.
“What do you see?”
“Well, there’s a lovely sunset.” Mags’ voice came back muffled from outside the window.
“I don’t care about the sunset! Can you see the dragon?”
“No. Everything looks deserted.”
Tomkin waited for her to continue, but she gave no more information. He could hear her humming and her feet swung jauntily. “I’m so very glad you’re enjoying yourself, and I hate to interrupt, but, can you see anything about the castle? Is there a way to get down from where you are? Any obvious escape routes? Anything useful you can tell me?”
“Well,” her voice came back smugly, “my keep has sheer walls, as it should. I don’t want enemies to be able to scale the walls up to these windows. Wink will be so pleased. He just has the interior to work on, and he’s so wonderful at interior work, it will be done in no time. If you climbed out of here, you would fall to your death.”
Of course it was sheer. This day wasn’t going to make anything easy for him. If Elton had been trapped in here, there would have been a strategic crumbling section of the wall providing a dangerous, but ultimately heroic, way to escape. “Well, what else do you see? Is the castle wall intact? Are there any exits besides the main gate? Is there a route up the cliffs?”
Mags didn’t answer.
“What are you doing up there?”
“Sorry, I didn’t realize it was so late. It’s rather dark in the bailey. I suppose that’s because we’re snuggled up to these cliffs on the west. It’s all shadowy and dramatic in the courtyard. I’m so pleased I found this place. This will be the finest castle in Queensland.
“But the truly stunning thing is that there are enormous storm clouds brewing to the east and they’re the most beautiful shades of red and orange. They’re very similar to Vorath’s colors, don’t you think? Oh, you can’t see them, but you can imagine. They are just like Vorath’s scales. I do think he’s the prettiest dragon I’ve ever seen.”
“Because you’ve seen so many dragons?” Tomkin said, annoyed.
“I’ve seen plenty of paintings of dragons,” her voice came back primly. “I think orange might be an unusual color. There are loads of red and black dragons, but Vorath is such a fiery orange, like the brightest bit of flame at the bottom of a candle.”
Tomkin scowled. That had been his exact thoughts when he’d seen the scales.
“Oh! The clouds are exactly the right color! Vorath is right there, flying out of them and I can barely tell him apart from the clouds!”
“Get back!” Tomkin hissed.
“Hello!” Mags called, her body thrashing about enough that Tomkin could imagine her waving enthusiastically.
“Knock it off!” he whispered loudly. “We’re not supposed to be escaping!”
“It’s Vorath,” Mags called, as though he hadn’t heard. “He’s coming back from across the river and he has…something in his claws. A sheep maybe? Now why didn’t he ask me for help? I would have gotten one for him.”
She was going to get herself killed! She was going to get them both killed!
“Hello!” she called out the window. After a short pause she continued, “Yes, that would be nice. But how will I—Oooh!”
Tomkin lunged for her feet, but they were too high. With a slither, Mags’ legs shot up and disappeared through the window.
Tomkin caught a flash of orange scales before the blue sky out the window was left perfectly empty.
Part II
The hero was supposed to slay the dragon and rescue the maiden,
Tomkin was sure of it.
* * *
But if that were true,
then Tomkin was left with the unpleasant realization
that there was no hero around.
-From Keeper Gerone’s retelling
of Tomkin and the Dragon
8
Tomkin stared at the empty window, his hand stretched up for Mags’ absent foot, the breath sucked from his
lungs.
He listened for screams or cries, but heard nothing.
“Wink!” he called out, looking around the tower frantically. “Wink! Can you hear me? Mags is in trouble! Wink!”
The tower was still. The sunbeams streaming in the western windows were clouded with the dirt from Mags. Beyond that, nothing moved, nothing stirred. The walls of the tower closed around him, cutting him off from the rest of the world.
Tomkin rushed to the ladder and climbed down. He ran to the door and threw himself against it. Pain shot through his sore shoulder again, but the door didn’t budge. He shoved at it, pounded on it, kicked it. The door refused to acknowledge him.
With a groan, Tomkin sank to the floor, leaning back on the door. A distant rumble of thunder rolled across the sky. Mags’ thunderstorm. The thunder ended and silence flowed back into the tower, as though Tomkin were the only thing left alive. There was no father coming to help, no brother, no friend. Not even a shrew to argue with. He was utterly alone and utterly trapped.
Thunder growled again, closer this time.
He cocked his head to listen. The thunderstorm might be a blessing. Even a dragon wouldn’t hear someone creeping around if there was a thunderstorm going on.
Tomkin pushed himself off the wall. This problem just needed to be attacked step by step. First, find a way out of this tower. Second, find his sword. Third, find Mags. Which was a lot of finding, but Tomkin was better at finding than fighting, so it just might work.
The garnet. His heart dropped a little. The garnet had broken off the hilt. That was a problem for later. First, he needed to get out of this tower. He stood and surveyed the keep again. There was nothing useful. It was a mess.
Mags’ cobbled-together desk held an assortment of papers and a bowl of apples. Tomkin’s stomach growled and he grabbed one of them before glancing at the top paper, which featured a sketch labelled “Keep Interior - First Floor.” Quick lines roughed out a hulking fireplace, one of the arrow-slit windows with floor-length curtains, and a nook deep under the stairs with this little desk, the chair, and a long bookshelf.
The bookshelf idea was a good one. It fit well in the space. That’s where Tomkin would sit, if it existed. He’d build a fire in the fireplace, because empty fireplaces looked malevolent, then he’d go over to this nook and find a good book.
Tiny notes labeled the nook.
Need wax for candle, iron and glass for lantern.
Desk fits perfectly. Would love cushion on chair.
Need good ink and better quill.
Shelf will hold only 20-30 books. The last words were written slower than the rest, as though contemplatively. “Only” was underlined twice.
Her handwriting was surprisingly nice. She must be more educated than he had assumed. And the sketches were decent, too. He couldn’t have drawn them.
He went to set the page down, and saw the paper underneath it was a letter written in the same thin, precise writing. There was no mistaking that this was written by someone well educated. There was an elaborate yet pleasing flourish on the “F” at the beginning of the addressee’s name.
A long drawing of Colbreth Castle cascaded down the right side of the paper. The upper cliffs rose, tall and solid-looking, and unbroken stairs clung to the lower cliff down to the river. The castle itself was drawn in bolder strokes than the rest of the sketch, standing regally on an outcropping of rock. The round tower, which now deserved the name “keep,” rose sternly from the left side of the castle, and the squat square tower flew splendid flags snapping in the wind.
Tomkin looked at the castle for a long time. The drawing was fantastic. The lines of the towers and walls surged up, steadfast and proud. The castle was…well, it was a good castle. A great castle. Once the dragon was gone, maybe Tomkin could convince his father Colbreth Castle should be restored. It would be magnificent.
He didn’t mean to begin reading the letter. But the decorated F led him into the word “Father.”
* * *
Father,
I do hope you are not alarmed at my absence. I assure you I am well. I could not stay another day, though. I cannot be like mother. I cannot run the house as she did. And knowing I was failing every day, knowing I can never replace what we lost when she died, it felt like I was drowning. I have trained Lidia over the past few months. She will be able to keep the house running smoothly. She is the easier daughter.
I am terribly afraid you will blame yourself, but please believe me this is best for both of us. I know your plans for me were good for our family, even good for me, but I can’t bear to disappoint you anymore than I already have. I doubt I am really the answer you need.
I know people will talk. I have left rumors with the staff that I am traveling to court for a few months. That should stave off questions for a while. No one from the house should be traveling to court now that winter is coming, so my secret should be safe until I am finished.
I am starting a new home, Father. One that is glorious and small and within my power to run. I think I shall do a good job of it and I do hope, when I have finished setting it right, you will come for a long visit.
I miss you dearly. Tell Lidia I love her and that she will do an excellent job filling mother’s shoes. Much better than I would have. I’m so sorry for al—
* * *
The letter ended and Tomkin flipped it over, as though it would continue. As though she hadn’t been interrupted by Tomkin being flung in the door and landing on top of her.
He set the paper down gently, remembering how smudgy her face was when he had first met her. How hadn’t he noticed it had been from tears? When he’d landed on Mags, she’d been crying.
Tomkin read the end of the letter again. He needed to get out of here. He needed to find Mags and convince her to go back home to her father.
He looked around the tower. The door was the only real option, of course, but it was thick and solid and the handle was broken. He could just barely see the bar holding the door closed.
This was another thing Mags could have done that would have been useful. She could have fixed the door handle so she could get out. And so he could get out. What had she been doing in here?
Tomkin searched the room, picking up anything that looked thin and strong enough to move the bar. There wasn’t much. Mags’ chair had been fixed. Wink must have fixed it while Tomkin was up above. A chair. Out of all the things she could have done, she fixed a chair. It wasn’t even a very nice chair. Just a plain guard’s chair.
What he should do is smash it again and use the pieces to try to get out. But he left it and found a couple thin slivers of wood. They broke as soon as he tried to lift the heavy bar. He found a metal rod, but it was too wide to fit through the crack. He shoved it into the door, splintering little bits of wood off the side of the beams, but making no concrete progress. Every noise felt so loud.
Outside, thunder rumbled louder and a long gust of wind moaned through the open windows of the tower. There was a bright flash of light and Tomkin waited for the next peal of thunder. When it happened, he shoved at the door as hard as he could, the noises he made drowned out by the rumbling storm.
The door didn’t move.
At the next thunderclap, Tomkin let out a yell and slammed against it, barely making it quiver.
Why couldn’t anything go right today? Tomkin pounded his fist against the door, against the fact that he was trapped, against the reality that there was actually a dragon here.
“Is there anything I could assist you with?” a gravelly voice said from behind him.
Tomkin whirled around to find Wink sitting smugly on Mags’ chair, his short feet dangling far above the floor. “Where’s Mags? Is she okay?”
“She’s just fine.”
“Did the dragon trap her somewhere else?”
“She has never been trapped here. I believe she has explained that to you several times.”
“She was locked in this tower!”
The kobold shrugged.
“I can open the door at any time.”
Tomkin stopped. “You what?”
“You don’t know much about kobolds, do you? I can manipulate and fix anything I find around me. I can put rocks back where they are supposed to be.” He waved his long, knobby fingers at a small pile of rubble and it flew into the air, tucking itself neatly into a long crack in the wall and leaving it looking new. “I can reform wood back to its original condition.” He gestured at the crescent of floor above him and a sagging beam along the edge began to straighten.
Tomkin stared at it. “That’s amazing! I thought kobolds were only good for cleaning or fixing little things.”
“Most ignorant people do.”
“Is it hard? Mags said it takes a lot out of you.”
Wink appraised the ceiling above him. “Fixing that completely would take most of the day. And it would be tiring.”
“Can you destroy things too? Or shrink them?”
“Destroying and shrinking are simple.” Wink motioned to a rock on the floor and it shrank to a pebble. “And takes almost no energy at all.”
“Astonishing! Can you change more than one thing at a time?”
Wink gave the smallest hint of a smile at Tomkin’s enthusiasm. “It depends on how related they are. I can’t alter both this piece of wood and that piece of iron at the same time. But these,” he lined up five broken pieces of wood on the desk, “were all part of the same plank of wood—”
“How can you tell?”
Wink scowled at the interruption. “Because they’re all hickory wood with the same grain, density, and sap distribution, if you must know.”
Tomkin stared at the little kobold. “You can just…sense that?”
Wink shrugged. Then he waved his hand over the pieces of wood and each one began to swell slightly. “So I could expand all of them at once. Of course, it’s much easier to make them shrink than expand.” With another wave, each piece of wood began to shrink until they were just a handful of splinters.