When Marginally Good Orcs Go Bad
Akita pushed open Door and stalked into Second Hand Sorcery. His eyes glowed yellow as he looked around the main selling area, searching for any invisible shoppers. There was no one present. Except for the two now-alarmed looking Humans behind the counter.
“Uhm... Can we help you, Constable?” Offered Semfeld. “We’re not really open yet; we were going to have breakfast first.”
Akita let a growl start at the back of his throat. It kind of just stayed there rumbling angrily. “Know what I don’t like?”
“Asparaguth?” Tried Liverioso. “Horrible things.” He stuck out his tongue. “Not fit to eat by man nor beast.”
“Beast?”
“Well, prethent company excepted, of course.”
“So yer playin’ the rrrroll of Grimbledung, eh?” Akita shook his shoulders. It worked its way down his back to the tip of his tail as he moved to the counter. “Well, that’s gonna get annoying real quick.”
Semfeld prodded his partner, “I’m going to check on those wands in the thing while you talk to the Constable.” Even though he was pretty sure he wasn’t contagious and wouldn’t just bite him out of hand, Semfeld never felt comfortable being in the same room as the werewolf. He ducked under the curtain. Then listened from the other side.
Akita felt let down. Between the two, he preferred Semfeld’s company better. He always seemed more genuine than his shifty and usually annoying partner. “So, it’s just me and you then.”
Liverioso took a step back. “Do I need a lawyer?” He looked left and right. Briefly his eyes dropped to the glass counter, looking for a formidable wand in case he needed one in a hurry.
Akita put his paws on the counter. “Not yet ya don’t. Let’s keep this civil like.”
“That’s always fine by me.” Liverioso frowned. “And that means you don’t come in here into my shop and try to bully me around, Constable.”
That’s why I don’t like this guy. Akita narrowed his eyes at the man. “First off, it’s not your shop; you’re just minding it for a spell. Second, I don’t appreciate you causing trouble in town. Wasn’t too keen on you coming back in the first place.”
“Why, we’re law abiding citizens of this fine town, that much is certain.” He narrowed his eyes at the Constable. “Of course, I’ve heard of a certain lawman who takes bribes to look the other way when it’s convenient for him. I wonder who would be interested in that information. Mince meat pies indeed.”
“Folks would be about as interested in that piece of information as they would be about a missing Magician.” Akita narrowed his eyes to slits. “I wonder which would be published first.”
Liverioso’s eyes got large. “I’m offended, Constable. Offended!”
“Yer also under suspicion. I’d worry about that first.”
Worried that their time at the shop was in danger of ending, Semfeld ducked back under the curtain. “Suspicion of what, Constable?”
“Contributing to the delinquency of an Orc.”
“What?” Semfeld looked from his partner to the constable and back again. “Us?”
“And I have to tell you, they’re a pretty delinquent bunch all on their own.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about!”
“Well, I’ve had complaints all over town about a certain Orc trying to muscle wands from folks because apparently you two told him to bring you all the wands he finds and you’d pay him two copper for each and every one. Notice all those ‘yous’ in that sentence, mister under suspicion?”
“Wha... what?? That’s not what I meant at all!” Liverioso brought his hands up plaintively. “Obviously, he misunderstood what I was saying.”
“That there’s an admission of guilt.” Akita tapped his claws on the counter. “You know, Grimbledung would only buy one wand a month from that Orc. It was a pretty good arrangement he had. Why’d you muck it up?”
Semfeld frowned. “Well, we are worried we are going to run out of inventory before the Gnomes get back.” He spread his arms out wide. “How do those stupid Gnomes even get inventory?”
Akita shrugged. “I haven’t a clue, but I am sure they were able to do it without me having to chase a wand-wielding Orc several blocks.”
Liverioso stifled a chuckle at the thought of Akita chasing a frantic, wand-waving Orc.
“Ya think that’s funny?” Akita stopped tapping his claws.
The laugh made its way out of Liverioso. “Yeah, thorry. Thinking of that poor Orc running from you is kind of funny. The look on his face…”
“Stop buying wands from S’Am.”
“Sam?”
“That’s his name. Stop buying wands from him.”
“Completely?” Liverioso put out his lower lip. “We need the inventory, Constable.”
Semfeld nodded. “Can’t sell what we don’t have and if we’re going to do right by those Gnomes, we need inventory.”
Akita scowled. “Fine, fine; at least not more than once a month then.” He shook his head. “Gads, I hope them Gnomes aren’t gone over a month.”
Semfeld nodded. “We will do our best to not make your job any harder than it already is.” He gave a genuine smile. “We really are trying to fit in here, Constable. Do the right thing and run a proper shop.”
Akita growled. “Good then.” He turned and walked to the door. As he reached for the doorknob, it hit him in the hand as it opened quickly. He gave a yip and did a little hop. “Hey, watch it!” He stepped back as three Dwarves pushed their way into the shop.
“Yer gonna bowl over some innocent bystander actin’ like that.” Scolded Akita. He shook his hand. “That smarts you know.”
The front Dwarf gave Akita a looking over. Starting and ending at his badge. “Sorry about that, Constable.”
Akita looked at the stern-looking Dwarf and his two companions. “Fine, fine. It’s no trouble.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Good luck with your business dealings, I believe I will just…” He frowned. He was going to say ‘go have a snack’ but he had forgotten that Maca had left last night for a secretive meeting of the Council of Elves. Or maybe it was an Elf Council. Either way, he was going to eat alone for the next few days.
“Never seen a Dwarf before?” The Dwarf scowled at him.
Akita squinted down at the Dwarf. “You live around here or just passing through?”
“I don’t believe that’s any of your business.” The Dwarf crossed his arms. The other two nodded in unison.
“I thought you folk were supposed to be happy. Pretty sure there was a Happy Dwarf I met a while back.”
The Dwarf moved his hands to his hips. “He was a one-off. Raised by a couple of minstrels or something. Didn’t get the traditional Dwarfish upbringing.”
“I see.” Akita looked back at the two Humans “Make sure you find your stock from a variety of places.” He looked down at the Dwarf again, successfully fought the urge to insult him, and stalked out.
“What’s his problem?” Asked the Dwarf as he moved to the counter.
Semfeld looked at the closed door. “He has problems? I hadn’t noticed.”
Liverioso nodded. “So what can we help you with today, good Dwarves?”
“We are looking for a Gnome.”
“We don’t sell Gnomes,” admitted Semfeld. “Just wands.” He spread his arms out wide. “Not sure how legal it would be to sell Gnomes anyway.” He grinned. “Besides, storing them would cost a fortune with how they eat.” He held his hands out. “Just the wands.”
“And of course, Magic Marbles, and Swizzle Sticks.” Tossed in Liverioso.
Semfeld nodded. “Oh yes; those too.”
The Dwarf turned and spoke to his two compatriots in Dwarfish for several moments. After a heated discussion, the lead one turned around again. “Did you two just buy this shop?”
“Oh; we don’t own it.” Semfeld shook his head. “Not a bit.”
“I’m talking to hourlies.” The Dwarf scowled as he moved his hands to h
is hips again. “The owners are Gnomes then?”
“Yes, Drimblerod and Grimbledung are their names.” He paused for a moment- he wasn’t sure what their last names were. “Not sure what their family names are. I think one is an esquire. Whatever that is.”
“And they left you two in charge? Without even telling you their last names?” Snapped the Dwarf.
“We’re trustworthy like that,” snapped back Semfeld- he had had enough of the Dwarf’s attitude and decided to add some of his own. He lapsed into his Magician’s Guild Enforcer tone. “So if you aren’t in the market to buy something from this shop, you should go elsewhere to just stand around and be annoying.” He squinted. “I suggest in front of a large, fast-moving wagon.”
“Listen here, laddie,” started the Dwarf on the left.
“You a customer?” Liverioso asked him, following his partner’s lead. “Or just here to waste our time as well?” He looked at Semfeld. “Now I want to call the Constable and see what he does to loiterers. “Probably has a special place in his dark heart for them. Most constables do.”
“We are here on business, Human,” said the first Dwarf. “But it’s with the owners of this shop.”
“Well, they’re not here, Dwarf.” Said Semfeld. “And we’re not sure when they’ll be back,” he added quickly. “It might be next month before they are back to town.”
The third Dwarf pointed a stubby finger at him. “Well when they get back, you tell them that we want to talk to them about some spices they have.”
“Spices? They sell spices too?” Liverioso looked at Semfeld. “Never heard anything about that.”
“Whatever makes money, right? replied Semfeld.
Because it is.
The first Dwarf turned to the other before he could answer. “Don’t bother; if they don’t even know their last name, they sure won’t know anything about the spices.”
“What spices?”
“Don’t you worry about that, Human. Just let them know we are willing to pay very, very well for them. A Dwarfish fortune even.”
“What spices?” Semfeld asked again.
“Just pass the word to the Gnomes.” The Dwarf started to turn then stopped. “Tell them the worst thing they can do is to talk to the Elves.”
“What Elves?”
The Dwarf shook his head. “Just tell them to fly a red banner from the roof of this dump when they get back and have their greedy little hands on those spices. We’ll have someone watching for it.” Without another word, the Dwarves filed out.
Liverioso punched his fist. “Those stinking Gnomes are sitting on a fortune of spices?”
“Well, spices are in general, expensive but it would have to be a large amount to be worth so much that Dwarves and Elves are both interested in it.” He looked around the shop area. “I haven’t seen any massive bags of spices, have you?” He sniffed. “Seems I would have smelled them too.”
Liverioso shook his head. “Me neither, but I haven’t been looking.” He turned. “I’m going to athk Dummy.”
“Good. And look around in the cooking area to see if it’s there. I’ll check upstairs.”
With that, the pair split up.
After a frantic two hours, they had ransacked the entire shop from top to bottom.
Neither gave the small sack of spices hanging from Grimbledung’s headboard a second look.
Chapter 10
Romantical Assassins? Of Course.
Cherí and L’owen walked down the street, keeping to one side.
“This town is really growing,” remarked L’owen. “Are you two are going to settle down here?”
Cherí nodded. “Well, for the most part the folks are pretty accepting of Colossus and I being together.”
“Most part?”
“Some of the Dwarves aren’t too happy about it.”
L’owen nodded. “The Halflings’ mountain campaigns really pushed hard into the Dwarvish kingdoms. Halflings can be…” He hesitated, searching for the right word. “Enthusiastic in their campaigns.”
“We don’t talk about his past.”
L’owen nodded. “That is probably best.” He pointed at a tailor shop. “Got my fabric there. The owner’s not what he seems. Fellow named Magnus Opus von Magnus.” He smirked. “I’d keep an eye on him if I were you; he’s probably up to no good.”
Cherí looked at the plain looking building. “I’ve never been in there; Colossus picked out the interior, but thanks for the tip.”
“He has an eye for it. Maybe he can open an interior decorating business.”
“He’s actually looking at becoming a private investigator once we’re settled.”
“He could do both, I imagine.” L’owen smiled. “He could call it An Eye for an Eye Investigations and Interiors. He could handle cozy mysteries.”[8]
Cherí laughed. “I’ll tell him that.” She pointed. “If you haven’t been, that’s the Duck Inn and Dine. I recommend it. Good food with a friendly owner. Gal named Nulu. Lots of good people in this town.”
“I’ll give it a visit before I leave… Nulu? She a Trolless?”
Cherí nodded. “She is. You know her?”
“Bentknees?”
“That’s her.”
L’owen pursed his lips. “I might just stop by and say hello.” A smile crept to his face. “More than just might, actually.”
“Old flame?” Cherí teased.
L’owen tilted his head to the side as he thought back. “Well, there were flames involved, yes.”
Cherí laughed. “Well, let’s just leave it at that then, L’owen ‘No Convictions’ Brushwood.”
“Let’s.”
“Wand shop’s down a couple of blocks on the left.” She pointed again. “The two Gnomes who run it are pretty decent folk. One is actually very decent. The other has a good heart but his unstableness sometimes gets in the way.”
“Aren’t all Gnomes a little that way? It’s part of their charm, I think.”
Cherí shook her head. “Well, Grimbledung can be charming, I suppose. And now that his Pixie madness is gone...”
“Well, that is a step in the right direction, right?”
Cherí gave him a sidelong glance. “And he is getting used to his lycanthropy…”
“Ahhh, well then. Two steps forward, three lopes back.”
“He is fairly tolerable to be around.” She frowned. “Deep down, he’s good folk too. Just don’t ever mention to him that I said so or there’ll be no living with him.”
L’owen chuckled. “Your secret is safe with me. So a Trolless, some Gnomes, a Werewolf, and some Humans tossed in the mix. You have built yourself an unusual family, Cherí.”
“Family often is.” She pointed. “There’s Second Hand Sorcery there on the far corner.”
The pair walked up to the front of the shop.
“What’re these pedestals for?” L’owen pointed at the two large blocks of stone positioned on either side of the door. “Someone steal their statues or they planning on putting some in?”
“Nothing so glamorous. When the battle with the Halflings ended, a few of the Gargoyles came to town to rest and relax.”
“Sounds nice. Always nice to have living art hanging about. Keeps property values up.”
Cherí shrugged. “Well, it lasted all of an afternoon.”
“Gargoyles are pretty relaxed creatures around most folks besides Halflings.” L’owen stepped up onto the platform and put his hands on his hips. “They’ll sit quietly for weeks on end if you let them.” He spread his arms out as if they were wings. “Really good conversationalists if you just take the time to talk to them. Were they fliers?”
“Not these two; couple of goats.”
“Still.” L’owen dropped his arms. “Just an afternoon?”
“Seems those relaxed, quiet, property value raising goats and Grimbledung didn’t mix well.”
“An afternoon?”
“I’ll tell you about it over dinner.”[9] She pointed at the
door. “Let’s go give Liverioso the news.”
L’owen hopped off the platform. “Maybe they can put a couple of planters here or something. Or a bench. You should get Colossus’ opinion first though.” He bowed slightly and gestured at the door. “After you.” He smiled. “You can pass the good news.”
Cherí clapped as she hopped up the three steps to the covered porch. “This’ll be great!”
As the pair entered the shop, Semfeld looked up at them, surprised. He was straddling his friend’s chest. Choking him.
“Urp!” Said Liverioso. Because that’s all the breath he had available.
Chapter 11
Jack Rabbit Stew
Drimblerod moved to the back of the wagon. It was practically empty. He picked up a box. It was more than practically empty. “We’re almost out of food, Grim. One week and we’re almost out of food. We’re never going to make it to…” He turned to speak to his partner but he was no longer beside him. “Oh, I hate when you do that, Grim,” he said to no one. Mainly because no one was there. “Just a simple ‘I’m wandering off while you’re not looking so stop trying to talk to me’ would be nice, wouldn’t it?”
“Well, sure,” he answered himself. “After all, if you are in a conversation with someone, you should let them know when you decide to take yourself out of it, right?”
“Right.” He agreed with himself. He looked around the campsite. Grimbledung seemed to be laying down on a small hilltop not thirty yards away.
“Are we going to bed hungry tonight?” Drimblerod asked.
“Not if you would have cooked that partner of yours like I suggested just yesterday,” said Drimblerod.
“No, no; I suggested it,” replied Drimblerod. “Remember?”
“Now I do, yes. It was in fact, your idea. You know the worst part of this whole affair?”
“What’s that?” Drimblerod asked himself.
“I am now answering myself just like my unstable partner, which I have to tell you, is not a good sign at all.”
“Well, I’ll stop talking, if that helps,” offered Drimblerod.
“It does, thanks.” Drimblerod shook his own hand. “I’ll take it from here.” He cleared his throat. “Grimbledung!” He shouted.
Grimbledung and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good Mine (Tales From a Second-Hand Wand Shop Book 5) Page 6