by Kay L. Ling
“Bring four gnomes at a time, surrounding them in your aura of invisibility. Once they’re safely in the carrier, Jules and I will haul them up.”
“What about noise?” she asked, remembering his comment about chains and pulleys.
“I’ve given the matter a great deal of thought. I will confine the equipment’s sound waves within an energy field. No one outside the boundary will hear a thing.”
She raised a brow. Folio was full of surprises. If no one could hear the winch, that left only the risk of someone seeing the moving carrier. But in the dark, it wasn’t likely that anyone would notice it. It was time to go, before she lost her nerve. “I can think of a hundred “what ifs,” but I should get going.”
Folio spread his arms as he surveyed the boom and winch, and the air began to vibrate with energy. The hair on Lana’s arms stood up. After a moment Folio lowered his arms and said to Jules, “It should be safe to bring down the carrier.”
Lana tried not to fidget as Folio and Jules worked the chains. The boom passed horizontally over their heads, and then the rope basket began to descend, stopping a few inches off the ground.
Folio and Jules held the carrier to steady it. Lana swallowed hard and climbed in. Her weight made the baglike structure close in around her. It was like crawling into a hammock that perversely tried to trap you inside.
No turning back now.
She signaled she was ready, and watched with nervous fascination as Folio and Jules manipulated the arm that held her carrier. As the carrier began to swing out over the cliff, she looked up at the hook, hoping the carrier was secure. Fine time to worry about that now, she thought grimly. In any case, staring at the hook was better than looking down.
The carrier’s ropes creaked ominously, and when her hammock prison began to swing in the empty air, she shifted her position ever so slowly and wound her fingers through the ropes in a death grip. Don’t panic. You’re fine. She took several deep breaths and looked back at the cliff as the carrier began its descent. Jules stepped forward, watching her with a look of despair. She tried to smile reassuringly but it felt like grimace. Chains clanked and the pulley squealed. Hopefully, no one outside the boundary Folio had created could hear all this noise.
After an eternity of dangling in the air, she reached the bottom. It was a struggle to climb out of the rope bag, but she finally freed herself and sighed with relief at the feel of solid ground under her feet. She drew the knife and clasped the hilt firmly, concentrating on the invisibility effect as she scanned the camp.
There was no sign of movement. She walked to the closest shack and hesitated when she reached the door. Should she knock or just walk in? She hadn’t even planned what to say. Opening the door slowly, still invisible, she slipped inside and left the door ajar.
“The door just opened! Who’s there?” a gnome called.
“I don’t see anyone.”
“Quiet,” Lana said softly. She should have rehearsed a speech. “I’ve come to rescue you, but I can only take a few of you right now.” She paused, realizing what she needed to say. “The Challenger is waiting at the top of the cliff.”
In typical gnome fashion, they all began to talk at once, but they had the good sense to keep their voices down. “The Challenger!” one whispered excitedly. “Has he returned?”
“Begging your pardon,” another said timidly, “but who are you? And where are you?”
She dropped the invisibility field. “I’m Lana, the Challenger’s ally.” Eight gnomes looked at her in shocked amazement. “And this is the Challenger’s Blade.” Holding it up was like flashing an ID badge, she thought as she watched the gnomes’ expressions. They’d obviously heard of it. Great! Instant credibility! As long as I don’t mention Folio.
“The Challenger needs twelve of you for a special mission. Can one of you get four more to go with me? Just bring them. Don’t explain why.”
A black-haired gnome with a long, tangled beard said, “I’ll go.”
“Remember, only four.”
“Yes.” He slipped silently from the shack.
She told the remaining gnomes, “The Challenger and his companion will pull you up with the winch and carrier. You’ll go up in groups of four.” They’re going to see Folio when they reach the top. Even if they don’t know who he is his lumpy skin and odd features will remind them of a breghlin. I’ll let Jules and Folio talk their way around that.
“You mentioned a special mission,” one of the gnomes said. “Can you tell us more?
“We need you to carry sacks of alamaria. The Challenger will explain why.”
The gnomes fell silent. They waited patiently for the others to arrive. In a few minutes the door opened and more gnomes crowded inside. She repeated her message for the benefit of the newcomers.
“I’ll take the first four now. I’m going to make us invisible. To do that, we have to stay close together.”
The gnomes glanced at one another and then the closest four stepped forward. She clasped the knife tightly, closed her eyes and concentrated on invisibility, and when she heard a confirming gasp from the gnomes, she pictured the field expanding until it included the four gnomes going with her.
They left the shack, and she was relieved to see that they matched her pace, forming a tight knot around her. She headed directly toward the winch.
Folio and Jules stood near the edge of the cliff, ready for her cargo.
The gnomes wasted no time scrambling into the carrier. With or without a special mission led by the Challenger, they’d be happy to leave this place. Once they had settled into the carrier, she dropped the invisibility field and signaled for Jules and Folio to raise the carrier.
It was too soon to pronounce the mission a success, she told herself, feeling relieved as she watched them ascend, but at least one load was on the way up to safety. She started back for the next group and realized when she was halfway to the shacks that she didn’t hear chains and pulleys. Folio’s sound boundary worked. A grin broke over her face.
By the time she came back with the second group, the carrier was waiting a few inches off the ground. Even though she and the gnomes were wasting no time, this process felt nerve-rackingly slow. Guards might start making their rounds at any moment. “Hurry up, climb in!” she whispered, grasping the carrier to steady it. When they were all inside, she dropped the invisibility field, waved her arm, and the carrier began to rise.
One more group.
Even then, she wouldn’t be finished, she reminded herself. She would have one more duty to perform: water detail, as Jules called it. Folio could extract water from plants, but why not take some while she was here?
As she walked toward the shack, she scanned the camp. Everything had gone remarkably well so far. Maybe that was why she felt edgy. It seemed too simple. That was silly, of course. They deserved to pull this off without a hitch.
For some reason, it seemed farther to the shacks this time. What was the matter with her? Her legs felt increasingly heavy, and try as she might, she couldn’t make her feet move any faster. Panting with exertion, she finally reached the shack and stepped through the door. Maintaining invisibility wasn’t easy. How would she ever walk to the portal once this was over? You have to keep going. Don’t think about that.
It was all she could do to keep her voice from shaking with exhaustion. “Everyone is safe at the top,” she said to the last group. “You’re next.” She wanted desperately to sit for a moment and catch her breath, but there wasn’t time. She had to get the last four gnomes up the cliff. Delays could put the mission at risk. “Remember,” she told them, “stay close.”
She simply couldn’t walk fast, but she tried not to worry about that. Speed wasn’t as important as invisibility. Part way there, she thought about stopping to rest, but she didn’t want to alarm the gnomes. Breathing heavily, she pressed onward. She gripped the knife hilt so hard it hurt, trying to draw strength while keeping the invisibility field intact. The effort made her dizzy, and
after a moment she gave up.
Her vision had grown annoyingly blurry. She blinked a couple times. Almost there. Just a little farther. You can do it. Just ahead, the carrier hung waiting. She glanced up, making sure Jules and Folio were ready. A few gnomes stood at the edge of the cliff with them. Hopefully the alamaria was bagged and ready to go. As soon as she came back with water, everyone could leave.
Once again she gave the signal. Chains rattled as the pulley took up slack. The carrier lurched off the ground. With weary satisfaction she watched the gnomes rise. Funny, she didn’t remember the gnomes getting into the carrier. Oh well, they were on their way. Now what was she supposed to do? Oh, yes. Water.
She turned toward the building that looked like a dining pavilion, remembering that the covered well sat beside it. Cold water. Until now, she hadn’t realized how thirsty she was. Taking several deep breaths, she aimed herself toward the well. Her legs felt weak and uncooperative but she forced herself to walk. The well was further away than the mining shacks. Maybe she should forget the idea of refilling the canteen. No, she thought with a frown. The next source of water might be miles away, and until they got there they could rely on the canteen.
When she finally reached the well, she found the empty bucket sitting on the rim. She eyed the dining pavilion cautiously, but as Folio had said, dinner had been hours ago and everyone was gone. Satisfied, she tucked the knife into the sheath on her belt. It wouldn’t do to drop the knife into the well.
Grabbing the rope with one hand, she slid the bucket into the well and was relieved to hear a reassuring splash. The pulley squeaked and squealed as she hauled up the bucket with both hands, the rope biting into her palms. She had forgotten how heavy water could be.
When the bucket reached the top, she set it on the stone rim, plunged her hands into the water, splashed some on her face, and then drank a handful. It tasted like minerals, but it was icy cold. After filling the canteen, she decided to drink a few more handfuls from the bucket.
She bent over the bucket and something sharp jabbed her in the back. A guttural breghlin voice demanded, “Who have we here?”
She froze as a long, thin blade appeared near her face. A second voice growled, “Answer the question.”
Chapter 31
Lana’s heart raced. If she reached for her knife the breghlin would slit her throat. She couldn’t run, bent over a bucket with a knife in her back. And she couldn’t call for help. Who would hear? Folio might be watching from the cliff—or not. He was busy with twelve gnomes and a pile of alamaria. And for all she knew, there was nothing he could do to help from that distance.
The knife in her back jabbed more insistently. The air reeked of alcohol and breghlin filth. She gasped out, “My name is Lana!”
Instantly the knife at her face and the blade in her back retreated.
“Grace! It’s Lana!” said the guttural voice in amazement.
“Lana? Here?” the other said. “Don’t hurt us! Didn’t know it was you!”
Lana straightened and turned to face the breghlin.
Grace and Ferdinand stared at her blearily. Grace sniffed, and then wiped his crooked, pocked nose with his sleeve. “Sheamathan sent us here,” he said in answer to her stupefied look.
“After you got outta the dungeon,” Ferdinand added meaningfully. “Larry, Danny, and all of us is here.” His fleshy, protruding lips trembled.
“Yeah, all us oafs. She called me a useless oaf,” Grace said, slurring his words, “So that must be the worst kind.” Grace looked a little unsteady on his feet. Lana studied him, thinking furiously. Maybe she could walk away. He might not stop her. An hour from now, he might not even remember seeing her. “Did you just come from this building?” she asked, pointing toward the dining hall.
Grace nodded.
“Is anyone else there?”
Grace shook his head. “The others be at the barracks.”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It wasn’t safe to stand here. Someone might see them. “Let’s go inside,” she suggested.
Grace said, “Sure, c’mon. Have a drink. We got plenty of beer.”
Lana took a quick glance around. They led her through the pavilion and into the enclosed part in the back. As she suspected, the back room was a kitchen. A huge, rectangular wooden worktable with massive legs stood in front of a grimy, cast iron cook stove. A stack of pots and pans sat on one end of the table, and metal tankards littered the rest of its marred surface. Cabinets without doors hung on one wall. A disorganized array of supplies lined the sagging shelves. The walls looked greasy. Clearly, cleanliness was not a priority here. Her feet stuck to the creaking floorboards as she walked to the table and sat down. Grace and Ferdinand plopped down across from her and each picked up a tankard. Globs of grease, bits of meat, and other unidentifiable bits of food clung to their black beards. She tried not to look.
Grace drank deeply, smacked his lips, and then grabbed a tankard from further down the table and shoved it toward Lana. “Have some!” It skidded to a stop in front of her. She looked down. Several inches of someone’s unfinished beer sloshed inside. Hiding her disgust, she looked at her companions. “Thanks.” She leaned forward, elbows on the table. “I’m glad you’re still together, but I suppose you’d rather be working at the castle.”
Grace shook his head. “Nah. It’s better here. Night duty’s easy.” He took another gulp of beer as if to prove his point.
“So your punishment isn’t so bad,” she said.
Staring at her rather glassy-eyed, both nodded. Ferdinand slurped his beer and then set down the tankard and stared into it moodily. “She is afraid of you,” he announced. “You have the Challenger’s knife. You have powers.” He looked up and his lips twitched nervously. “Beings with powers always hurt others. But you didn’t hurt us. You was nice to us.”
“That’s right,” Grace said, nodding vehemently. “You was nice.”
“She’s never nice,” Ferdinand grumbled. He took another drink of beer and then slammed down the tankard. Lana jumped. His protruding lips parted, showing yellowed stumps of broken teeth. His black eyes flashed. “You gived us names!” He began smashing the tankard with each word for emphasis. “You! Gived! Us! Names!”
“That’s more than She ever done,” Grace agreed mournfully. He took a gulp of beer and frowned into the tankard, as if in its depths he could see images of his thankless, dismal existence.
Neither of them seemed to notice that she wasn’t drinking.
Ferdinand’s shoulders sagged. He let out a long, shuddering breath. After a moment he sighed heavily and chugged his beer. Resignation seemed to have replaced anger. Tankard in hand, he looked at Lana and asked, “Whatcha’ doin’ here?”
She had expected this question long before now. “Checking things,” she answered vaguely.
Grace belched loudly. “What kinda things?”
She cast about for a reply. “Um, gnome working conditions. Got a call from OSHA. You have violations here.”
The breghlin exchanged blank looks. Ferdinand swayed slightly. His head dipped once. He caught himself and sat a little straighter, but clearly he was having trouble staying awake. In a few minutes he’ll be snoring on the table.
This would be a good time to slip out. She was certain they wouldn’t stop her. “It’s nice to see you again, but I really should be going.” She reached across the table and gave Ferdinand’s arm an affectionate pat. “Thanks for the beer. Don’t get up. I can see myself out.”
Maybe Folio could wipe this meeting from the breghlins’ memories. She had a feeling it wouldn’t be necessary. Sliding off the bench, she cautiously headed for the door. Neither breghlin said a word.
She couldn’t resist looking back. Ferdinand sat slumped over the table with his mouth open. Grace swayed slightly, his head nodding sleepily, still clutching the tankard with both hands. Pleasant dreams, guys.
She pulled out the Challenger’s Blade. She was exhausted, but the adrenalin ru
sh of being captured had cleared her head. Concentrating on invisibility, she stepped through the door and shivered as the cold canteen touched her side. Everyone had better enjoy this water. It had nearly gotten her killed.
Halfway to the winch, her legs started feeling rubbery again. Staring straight ahead, she willed herself to keep going. When this was over, when she was safely on the cliff, she could use her gems and the knife to get her strength back. Hopefully it wouldn’t take long. It wasn’t safe to hang around here, but she couldn’t walk far in this condition.
As she approached the cliff, she looked up. The gnomes had clustered around Jules and Folio and were staring out over the mining camp, probably wondering where she was. The carrier, fifty feet away from her, waited near the ground. She pushed herself forward and dropped the invisibility field, and then climbed awkwardly into the carrier and collapsed. This time she didn’t mind being entrapped in the hammock-bag. Its clinging embrace felt reassuring. With trembling hands, she slid the knife into its sheath.
The carrier jerked once and started its ascent. The pulley squealed and the chains rattled violently, but she was too exhausted to worry about plunging to her death. The carrier swung slightly each time the men pulled on the chains, and she felt like a fish inside a net being hauled into a fisherman’s boat.
When the carrier reached the top, the log boom began to swing inward, so they could bring her over the ground. A moment later she looked down and saw Folio, Jules and the gnomes. Wrapping her arms around the canteen, she waited for the carrier to stop. Where would she find the energy to climb out?
The gnomes crowded around, all of them talking at once. Behind them, Folio barked, “Move away! Let her get out.”