Here's Looking For You, Grim (Tales From a Second-Hand Wand Shop Book 3)

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Here's Looking For You, Grim (Tales From a Second-Hand Wand Shop Book 3) Page 11

by Robert P. Wills


  “It’s just about the right size for carrying the likes of you, old friend.” Phileous patted him on the shoulder. “And your compatriots as well. I hear you gave those Halflings what for.”

  Captain Ollie nodded at Reuben. “Your friend here saved a bunch of lives.”

  “Well, it was a group effort.” Reuben looked at the men who moved down the stairs behind their captain. “New crew?”

  Phileous shrugged. “There’s folk that will work for a sorcerer, there’s folk that even like working for a mason, and there’s folk that like sailing in the air. Apparently they aren’t necessarily the same folk.”

  “Well, let’s get your men something to eat while we figure out how to get some injured Gargoyles on your ship.” Ollie pointed at Sergeant Campagna. “Sergeant, can you see about getting some refreshments wrangled up while the Captain visits with our injured guests?”

  The Sergeant saluted smartly and as he moved toward the cantina, he gestured for Phileous’ men to follow. “This way gentlemen.” He paused as he looked at the crew. “Pardon me, and ladies.” He nodded at two female crewmembers. “Right this way.”

  Several soldiers fell in step behind them as they went- soldiers and mealtimes were conducive for the telling of tales (tall and otherwise) and they greedily wanted to hear of exploits in the skies.

  Phileous looked around. “If anyone wants a get aboard the Nemo, there’s a couple of crewmen tending it that would be glad to give a tour.”

  Several more soldiers hurried up the stairs to the ship’s rudder, broad smiles on their faces.

  Reuben smirked at his old friend and creator, “Always the showman.”

  “That’s me.” His voice took a serious timber. “So who’s hurt and how much?”

  Ollie pointed to a far corner of the courtyard. “If you want to take him over, Reuben, I think I may take a peek at that monstrous craft while I have the chance.” With a smile growing across his face, he moved to the stairs and took them two at a time.

  Reuben and Phileous moved to the corner of the courtyard that had been turned into an impromptu Gargoyle lair. All joviality was gone from the man as he inspected his creations with love and care. The stone creatures were more than just whimsical items to be made, enchanted, and then forgotten; they were true and close friends.

  Captain Ollie was out of breath by the time he had clambered to the top of the garrison. When he had to climb the rail-less stairs carved into the rudder of the Nemo, he held his breath more than anything else. Finally, when he reached the top, a sailor offered a hand to help him over the railing.

  “Welcome aboard, Sir,” the sailor said with a snappy salute.

  “Thanks...”

  “Mister Biggs,” the sailor offered. “I’m Chief of the Boat.”

  “Boat?”

  “Well, it’s a title so even when it’s a giant thing that flies through the air, it stays the same.”

  “I see. Thanks, Mister Biggs. I’m Captain Ollie, commander of the garrison you’re currently docked to. Captain Verne said there was a tour to be had.” He looked around the deck- it was clear of clutter with tents set up in several locations. A long trough seemed to run the length of the ship. “Tents?”

  “Lightweight accommodations,” explained Mister Biggs. “Weight is a premium on a craft that rides in the air.” He smiled. “That’s why you never see fat dragons.”

  Ollie nodded because he had, in fact, never seen a fat dragon.

  “Let’s join the others.” The sailor pointed to where a group of Ollie’s men were standing near a young-looking sailor who was standing half-way up a ladder leaned against the long trough.

  The pair walked over as the sailor spoke.

  “... and that’s when I learned I was lactose intolerant,” the sailor said. He stuck out his tongue to emphasize the point.

  Several of Captain Ollie’s soldiers looked around nervously. It was not the tour they were expecting.

  “Ahh, I’ll take it from here Calvin,” the Chief Biggs said quickly. “You can go back to tending the fires.” He motioned for the youngster to climb down the ladder. “Up by Five, if you please.”

  The youth jumped down the ten rungs he had climbed up and jauntily moved to a ladder near the center of the vessel. As he passed, the soldiers gave him a wide berth.

  “Sorry about that...” he paused and looked at the group. “Gentlemen,” he continued, “he’s new to the crew and still learning the ropes, as it were.”

  Several soldiers nodded knowingly.

  “So.” Chief Biggs clapped his hands together once. “As you’ll notice the decks are free and clear of any heavy items, with tents used for accommodations, cooking, and the like.” He gestured all around. “You will also notice the very large brass trough that runs almost the length of the ship.”

  Several soldiers nodded- it was hard to miss.

  “That is the secret of flight.”

  “Brass?” Asked Ollie.

  “Fire.” The Chief pointed upwards. “The fire heats up the giant bladders of air which makes the ship go up. When we light all the sections of the trough, the ship sails up hundreds of feet. When we want to come down, we douse some of the sections with sheets of dragon wings. Usually two at a time so that we come down on an even keel.”

  “How does that work?”

  Chief Biggs shrugged. “No idea. We think that maybe the air doesn’t like to be hot so it tries to run away from the fire but since it’s caught in the bladder, it just pushes the bladder up. Kind of like wind in a sail.”

  Captain Ollie considered this for a moment. It seemed reasonable. “Sounds reasonable to me.”

  All the soldiers nodded in agreement. Several secretly thought it had to do with Elfin Magic, but they went along with the crowd anyway.

  “So the brass...” Began Captain Ollie.

  “The brass just keeps the fire contained. Once you’re up a few hundred feet, the last thing you want is a fire on deck.”

  “I agree with that,” said a soldier. He was at the moment, the highest he had ever been off the ground and even then, having a fire on the deck was something he didn’t relish.

  “So let’s move to the tents and I’ll show you where we sleep, eat, and play.” Ollie gestured towards a large tent. “So this one here is the mess tent...”

  After another thirty minutes, Captain Ollie and his men began the harrowing task of going down the steps in the rudder. It was quickly decided that only one man would be on the stairs at any given time, and because of this it took another fifteen minutes for them to make it safely to the walls of Prost Garrison.

  Glad to be back at a comfortable altitude, Captain Ollie took a deep breath when he reached the ground. He looked around to see where how things had progressed while he was away. Phileous and Reuben were now standing in the middle of the courtyard with the rest of the Gargoyles. “I hope everyone is well enough to travel.”

  “Well and ready, Captain Ollie,” said Reuben. “Not that we don’t like your company, of course,” he added quickly.

  “Of course.” He looked up at the Nemo. “So how are you going to get them up there?”

  “We’ll hoist them up using the forward, starboard capstan.”

  Captain Ollie was still looking up. “Forward starboard?” He looked at the Captain and smiled. “How convenient then, that that’s where you are all sitting.”

  “Very convenient.” Captain Phileous stuck out his hand. “We appreciate your hospitality, Captain Ollie. If you’re ever in EternCity, I’d love to repay it in kind.”

  Captain Ollie took the other’s hand and shook it. “Well, I’m not sure when I’ll make it way out there, but if I do, I’ll take you up on that offer.”

  “Reuben? You want to walk up or ride the capstan?”

  Reuben looked at the narrow steps set in the rudder. “I’m in one piece and I’d like to stay that way. You should just haul me up.”

  The sailors and soldiers exited the cantina, drinks in their hands. They w
ere still talking and laughing as they spied their respective Captains and angled in their direction. “Then I’ll see to it,” said Phileous. He turned to the Sailors. “We’ll hoist them up. Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. We’ll just have to do them one at a time. We’ll load them on dollys then move them around the ship to balance it out before we get going.

  “Even out the ballast, huh?” Captain Ollie chuckled.

  “I’d like to think of myself as more than ballast, thank you very much,” Cerise said.

  “My dear, you’re the best looking ballast to ever grace a ship,” assured Reuben.

  “Thanks, Dearest,” said Cerise.

  With that, the sailors and soldiers parted company- sailors going up the rudder-stairs to their tasks, the soldiers sat to watch the operation.

  After nearly an hour, all the Gargoyles were loaded and positioned on the Nemo. As the task was done, the ship noticeably settled and creaked but stayed put angled across the two walls.

  Captain Phileous leaned over the railing and looked down. “Time to go! Stay safe!”

  “Farewell Captain Phileous. Safe travels to you as well!” Ollie called back.

  Phileous’ head disappeared back over the railing. “Stoke the fires and get that air running good and hard! We got some extra... cargo holding us down!” The soldiers heard him shout.

  Within moments, the ship slowly gained altitude. When it was almost fifty feet above Prost Garrison, the screw at its stern began to turn. With the rudder turned to one side, the Nemo executed a wide turn over Prost Garrison. When it was a hundred yards away, a loud horn blow carried back from it to the soldiers.

  Sergeant Campagna moved beside his captain. “I wonder if we’ll ever see those characters again.”

  “Only if we make it from here to EternCity.”

  “And back again?”

  “There’s always a chance.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Sergeant Campagna watched the Nemo as it gained altitude and speed. “Well, it’s good those Gargoyles are getting taken care of. I think, all in all, they fared well against those Halflings.” He turned to his Captain. “Say, Sir. What happened with that one Gnome I heard about that fell off the wall at the start of the battle?”

  “Seems the scuttlebutt was that he had made it back to his friends in town, safe and sound,” said Captain Ollie.

  “All’s well that ends well.”

  “Seems that way.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Scuttling Butt

  Grimbledung huffed and puffed as he scuttled through the forest. Occasionally he would hear a Halfling war-dog bark. Every time he did, they seemed closer.

  Gasping for air, he leaned against a tree for support. “It’s no use. I’ll never lose them. I’m sorry Drim.”

  In front of him, the leaves covering the forest floor began to move. Then they began to rise.

  Grimbledung gaped as the mass rose higher and higher, above his head and then some. Finally at twice his height, the protuberance of leaves stopped moving. “Hello?” Tried Grimbledung.

  The leaves dropped off in a single motion; they had been attached to a tan colored cloth. A dirty and haggard looking Elf turned to look at Grimbledung. “Hey, man,” said the Elf slowly.

  “Hello, Elf,” said Grimbledung. “You hiding under there or what?”

  “No, man. I wasn’t hiding.” The Elf said in a slow drawl. He looked up and scanned the treetops.

  Grimbledung turned to look as well. There was nothing to see. “What’re we looking for?”

  “What?”

  “What are you looking for?” Asked Grimbledung again. He heard the dogs bark again. They were definitely closer.

  The Elf looked down at Grimbledung. “Nothing, man.” He seemed to stare off into the distance.

  This time Grimbledung didn’t take the bait. “Well, nice meeting you, Elf, but I got to be going.” Grimbledung took a step away from the tree. And away from the strange Elf.

  “No, man. You can’t do that.” The Elf pointed at Grimbledung. “You can’t.”

  “Can’t what?”

  “What?”

  The barking was closer still. “You said I can’t, so I asked ‘I can’t what?’” tried Grimbledung anxiously. “What can’t I?”

  “Leave, man.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re under arrest, man,” explained the Elf. He looked up at the trees again.

  “For what?” Grimbledung took another step away from the Elf.

  “Trespassin’.”

  “Trespassing? Trespassing into where?”

  The Elf looked down at Grimbledung. He seemed to notice him for the first time. “Trespassin’ here, man. That’s what yer doin’. Yer trespassin’. That really brings me down.”

  “Trespassing where?”

  “The forest, man.”

  “So you’re a forest guard then? Part of some sort of forest army?”

  “No, man. We don’t have an army,” the Elf said slowly. “I’m just on guard duty today. Normally I am… normally I got a band.” He nodded. “I got a band.”

  The barks were close enough Grimbledung could tell there were three dogs involved in the search. “I see mister… mister” he paused in hopes a name would be provided.

  “Teeth.”

  “What?”

  “Teeth, man. My name’s Teeth,” said Teeth. The Elf smiled a big, toothy grin. Apparently the only things clean on the Elf were his teeth; they were typical Elfish evenly-spaced, bright white teeth. His dreadlocks and rags-as-clothes were another story entirely.

  “I see, great teeth you got there,” offered Grimbledung as he took another step away from the Elf.

  “Thanks, man. You know that’s what they say…” the Elf stared off into space.

  After a long moment, Grimbledung spoke up, “Yeah? What do they say?”

  “What do who say?”

  “The people. About your teeth,” offered Grimbledung.

  “People talkin’ about my teeth? Man,” said Teeth.

  “No, no, you were saying something about your teeth!” Grimbledung hopped back and forth. “Remember?”

  “I was talking about my teeth?” Teeth asked incredulously.

  “Yeah!”

  “Really?” Teeth nodded. “Wow.” He paused for a moment. He reached into a pouch on his belt and produced a large, blue and green colored frog. There was a swirl of bright orange that started on a rear leg and spiraled up over its back to its nose. “You want to taste my frog, man?”

  “What? No, I’m not really hungry right now, thanks.”

  “What? No, man you don’t eat frogs.” Teeth pulled his frog closer to him protectively.

  “You don’t eat them?”

  “No man, you just taste them.” Teeth nodded again.

  “No thanks.”

  “Well, all right I guess, man,” said Teeth as he put the frog back into its pouch. He licked off his fingers afterwards.

  “You know I’m a Gnome, right?”

  “Yeah, man.”

  “Then why do you keep calling me a Man?”

  “Who’s calling you a Man, man?” Teeth looked around. He seemed to hear the Halflings and the war dogs for the first time. “Man. Strange things are afoot in the forest today.”

  “You know, I’m really enjoying this conversation and I’m sure you could keep this level of absurdity up for a week straight if you had to, but I really need to get going.” He hopped back and forth again. “There’s people chasing me and I really don’t want to have to deal with them.”

  “Well, why don’t you come with me.” said Teeth.

  “Well, you seem nice and all Teeth. Even for an Elf, but I really got to get going.” Grimbledung started to turn away from the unkempt Elf.

  “Naw, man. See, that wasn’t a question,” Teeth rasped.

  “But it started with ‘why’,” objected Grimbledung.

  “What?”

  “Why!”

  “Why what, man?”

 
Now Grimbledung could hear several Halfling voices. “This is getting absurd even for me!” Complained Grimbledung, “I really got to get going!”

  “Naw, man, you can’t go.” The Elf slowly slung a bow from his shoulder. Like him, it was dirty, dingy and battered. He pulled an equally abused arrow from his quiver- it was missing an entire row of feathers on one side. The point however, was gleaming with oil and sharp.

  “Can we discuss this?” Tried Grimbledung. He prepared to make a run for it.

  “Well, no man. You see, the way it works is…” Teeth stopped to think. And look up at the treetops for a long moment as he thought back to the morning’s instructions. He nodded. “Ok, yeah. So. Either you come with me or I shoot you in the head with an arrow, man.”

  “That’s not much of a choice!”

  “Let me think a second,” said Teeth. Very nearby, a Halfling horn could be heard blowing. He looked up into the sky again.

  After a long moment, Grimbledung nudged him, “Hey Teeth!”

  “Yeah?”

  “So what are the choices?”

  “Choices for what, man?”

  A thought came to Grimbledung. “You said I had three choices. I either go with you…” he waggled his ears. “Or you shoot me in the head.” He smiled broadly, “Or you let me go! That’s the one I pick.”

  “Let you go? No man, that’s not one of our… That’s not one of the choices, man.” He nodded slowly. “It’s either I shoot you in the head…”

  “Yeah, yeah, I got that one! I’ll pass!”

  “You come with me.”

  “Right, right! Maybe that one.”

  “And I shoot you in the back as you’re runnin’ away!” Teeth smiled triumphantly as he remembered his three rules.

  “Fine. I’ll go with the middle one. How about I just come with you?”

  “Come with me? Far out, man.”

  Grimbledung heard another horn; it had to have been within a hundred yards. “Great, great. Let’s go” he gestured into the forest. “Which way? Where are we going?”

  “We’re going to TreeTop City, man! That’s where I live.” Teeth nodded knowingly. “I got a gig tonight, man.” He pointed into the forest and began to walk. Slowly.

 

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