The Rumpelgeist

by Fiona McIntosh

  ‘I have an idea,’ Ellin said. ‘I can see parchment scrolls back there in that small room.’

  ‘My spell room,’ Grendel confirmed.

  Ellin smiled sweetly. ‘Choose a parchment and unroll it so that only you can see the writing. If I can use my special abilities to recite that spell without seeing the parchment, will you consider yourself beaten?’

  ‘You possess such magic, Your Highness?’ he asked, incredulous.

  ‘A little. Our family is touched by it, a wild sort of magic. Are you prepared to pitch your great talent against my small one?’

  Grendel laughed with delight. ‘Stars, but I haven’t had such fun in a very long time,’ he said. ‘You will lose, Highness. I hope you’re not planning to try and trick me to see through them and read backwards because you’ll fail miserably. Wren, pick out some scrolls,’ the wizard ordered. ‘I don’t care which.’

  Grendel unfurled the first scroll Wren duly brought to him.

  ‘Are you ready?’ Ellin asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Lex answered from behind the shoulder of Grendel.

  ‘Oh, I’m ready whenever you’re ready, Highness,’ the sorcerer replied, amused.

  ‘Good,’ Ellin said, pausing dramatically as if thinking hard.

  ‘This is the spell for how to dazzle a room full of people at a banquet with sparkling conversation,’ Lex told Ellin.

  ‘… at a banquet with sparkling conversation,’ Ellin repeated.

  Grendel couldn’t hide his look of surprise.

  ‘Are you helping her, Wren?’ he demanded, shooting a dark look his way.

  ‘No, Master. I wouldn’t dare,’ the sprite replied.

  ‘Carry on then,’ Grendel said, throwing down the first and snatching another scroll.

  Ellin looked down at the ground to give the impression she was concentrating deeply as she waited for Lex to tell her what to say.

  ‘This is a particularly helpful spell for persons of a dull disposition with a tendency to be boring,’ Lex read out.

  ‘… to be boring,’ Ellin repeated. She coughed politely as she listened for Lex’s next words.

  ‘The tongue of a toad and the sting of a wasp,’ she said, following him closely. ‘Er … yes, that’s right, crushed with errador moss, clambic juice, the petals of angel’s breath and the peppery seeds of gaspor berry –’

  ‘Stop!’ Grendel shouted. He stomped into the spell room and pulled out another scroll. ‘Dictate another!’ he demanded. ‘Move from me, sprite. I want you well away from this parchment before I open it.’

  Wren fluttered to wait near the silent Davren and Flynn. Both nodded at him.

  ‘But I –’ Ellin started.

  ‘I shall not agree unless you read another,’ Grendel cut in.

  She waited for Lex, who read its title quickly.

  ‘… to arrest flatulence,’ she repeated.

  ‘This one!’ he said, snatching several and running back to shake them at her.

  ‘Not unless you unroll the parchments, Grendel,’ she said, with a shrug. ‘I need to see the writing through your eyes,’ she added and grinned.

  He ripped a roll open.

  ‘That one. Well now, that’s a hard one. Oh wait, no, that’s right. That’s to stop a shrewish wife from nagging her husband,’ Ellin said.

  Grendel threw down the parchment. ‘This?’ he snapped, holding up another.

  She swallowed, waiting for Lex. ‘… to make frogs jump out of a victim’s mouth each time they try to speak.’

  The wizard stared at her, his face ashen. ‘I can’t believe it.’

  Ellin shrugged again. ‘I win. The Whistle remains mine. The centaur is free. Go,’ she said to Davren. ‘Come on, Flynn.’

  Grendel’s gaze narrowed. ‘Wait. You may well have earned the centaur’s right to leave. But no price has been paid for Jolien.’

  ‘But you agreed to restore him to full health,’ she claimed.

  ‘As I have. But I never agreed that he could leave here.’

  Ellin gasped. ‘Pilo was right, you are slippery.’

  Flynn, now fully recovered, drew his sword. ‘We are all leaving here, Wizard,’ he said.

  ‘I’m afraid not. I know she won’t leave without you, or she wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble to save your life. And I know the centaur won’t leave without her. The fact is, if I have you, Duke Jolien, I suspect I have all of you.’ He chuckled, delighted. ‘You’ll all make excellent servants.’

  Davren sighed. ‘I need some air,’ he said. ‘I shall wait outside.’ He called softly to Lex before leaving.

  Grendel chuckled. ‘Oh, I think we all need some air. Let’s all go outside with Davren while we resolve this matter, shall we?’ Ellin had no choice but to follow him.

  ‘Grendel?’ Ellin said.

  ‘Hmmm?’ he said, sounding innocent.

  ‘This is … this is unfair.’

  ‘Oh, my poor Princess Ellin. Did you think life was fair? You have led a sheltered existence, haven’t you?’

  Ellin scowled.

  ‘I’ve had a thought,’ Grendel said, sounding jolly and especially pleased with himself. ‘Let’s see just how talented a swordsman you are, young Flynn, especially now you are back to your gleaming good health. If you win against my magical sword I will release you all.’

  Grendel whispered some words and a sword appeared, suspended in the air in front of Flynn. The blade glinted in the sunlight, sharp and menacing.

  Calico Grace squinted into the distance towards the inlet known as Hellion’s Hole. Her unlit pipe clacked against her teeth as she rolled it around her mouth.

  ‘I hate it when you do that, Gracie,’ Bitter Olof remarked, giving her a dour look.

  ‘Do you, dwarf?’ she said, sounding entirely unconcerned.

  ‘Soon you won’t have any teeth left to rattle that pipe against.’

  ‘But I’ll always be taller than you,’ she retorted.

  Little Thom grinned. ‘She always wins,’ he remarked.

  ‘I know, I let her,’ Bitter Olof said with a wink.

  Calico Grace scowled. ‘Why don’t you two stop twittering and concentrate on the matter at hand? We don’t even know if Grevilya’s there.’ Her husband struggled to climb up next to her and without needing to be asked, she hefted him onto Silver Wind’s rail in a smooth, practised motion.

  ‘Oh, she’s there all right, my love,’ Bitter Olof said, with great confidence. ‘I can feel her. Can’t you?’

  Calico Grace shook her head. She looked troubled. ‘No. What do you mean feel her?’

  Bitter Olof shrugged. ‘It’s like I’m being physically drawn towards Hellion’s Hole this time. I think the magic Grevilya used to rob us of our beauty is calling to its maker.’

  Calico Grace slapped the rail. ‘If that’s the case, why don’t I feel it, too?’ she demanded.

  Bitter Olof frowned as he considered his wife’s question. ‘I suspect it might have something to do with Silver Wind,’ he said, thoughtfully.

  ‘You think Silver Wind is protecting me?’ Calico Grace asked.

  ‘It’s possible. You’re her captain and she wouldn’t defy you. I think she is also being drawn to Hellion’s Hole. But Silver Wind is obviously casting some sort of blanket of protection around you, my love, and I’m glad of it. I don’t want you feeling as I do. It’s like an ache.’

  Little Thom, having held back while his friends spoke to each other, now joined them at the rail. ‘She obviously wasn’t here last time we sailed near. If you can sense the magic and so can the ship, Bitter Olof, doesn’t that mean Grevilya can sense you, too?’ he asked.

  Bitter Olof nodded absently. ‘It would be unwise to assume she couldn’t, though of course we can’t know for sure. Let’s hope we have the protection of the ship’s invisibility. I’m guessing that while we’re on her, we’re safe from Grevilya.’

  Little Thom peered at the coastline. There was no movement as far as he could tell.

  ‘I’ve been thinkin
g we might have to use you as our diversion, Little Thom,’ Bitter Olof said, breaking the giant’s reverie.

  ‘Happy to help. Just tell me what I have to do,’ Little Thom said, eager for action.

  ‘Well,’ Bitter Olof began, ‘we’re not without our own access to magic.’

  Calico Grace and Little Thom looked at the dwarf with curiosity.

  ‘Here’s my plan,’ Bitter Olof said.

  Flynn stared at the blade hovering before him. He knew he was Master Reeve’s best student, but how could he possibly fight a foe whose movements he couldn’t anticipate? He had been taught to read his opponents; to look for their shifts in balance, the fear in their expression, how they wearied or found new strength.

  ‘Of course, you can surrender at any time,’ Grendel taunted. ‘There’ll be no shame in it. This is a most unusual duel, after all. If you do surrender, however, you will have to remain here as my assistant.’

  ‘We refuse to do this!’ Ellin spluttered.

  ‘Then you can all stay. How cosy,’ the wizard taunted.

  ‘My father –’ Ellin said, outraged.

  ‘Will never find you. I can promise that,’ Grendel said.

  ‘I’ll fight,’ Flynn said, halting the debate. ‘But that must be the end of it. No more negotiations or new deals. This is a win or lose bargain.’

  Grendel chuckled. ‘All right, young man. I’m confident, how about you?’

  Flynn ignored the barb. ‘If you win, I will remain behind as your prisoner. But if I win –’

  ‘If you win, Flynn, it would mean my magic no longer obeys me … in which case that would be a unique event.’ He laughed in some private amusement.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Flynn replied.

  ‘Oh, fill them in, Wren,’ the sorcerer said, sounding bored.

  Wren flew like a wasp at Flynn. ‘What my master means,’ he began, ‘is that his magic has never defied him before. He doesn’t imagine it ever will.’ The sprite’s cheeks were spotted with high colour. Wren was excited. ‘But just for argument’s sake, if it did, Master Grendel would lose the use of his magic for a long time. It would damage his spellmaking, you see.’ Wren was saying one thing but his intense stare was conveying another, as though willing Flynn to trust him.

  ‘Then I must defy your magic, Grendel,’ Flynn said.

  Wren’s back was to Grendel and the sprite beamed Flynn a huge grin, filled with encouragement. He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod but continued to bait Flynn. ‘Master Grendel is not scared of you. His magic would never desert him because it cannot be defied,’ he said, again passing a message – Flynn was sure – even though his tone was mocking.

  Flynn noticed that Lex was saying something to Ellin. He frowned at her as she looked over now; her cheeks echoed the flush that was in Wren’s face a moment ago. They all knew something he didn’t.

  ‘Your Highness,’ Flynn said, bowing as if seeking permission to begin but in truth making sure Ellin had this opportunity to pass on whatever she knew … if she could.

  ‘Brave Flynn,’ she began, ‘just remember that you are the most skilled of all the swords in Master Reeve’s coterie. And never forget that you have friends in all the right places.’

  He bowed, frowning. What did that mean?

  ‘Oh, let’s get on with it, shall we?’ Grendel interrupted.

  As Flynn straightened, still wondering about Ellin’s couched message, he saw that Lex was no longer at her side but was moving swiftly towards the sinister magical sword that swished before him.

  ‘One rule I must insist upon, Grendel – because it is my understanding that all magic has rules,’ Ellin said. She didn’t wait for him to reply. ‘Your sword must fight at the same height as Duke Jolien’s. In this way we can assume some semblance of fairness in the contest.’

  Grendel suppressed a huge guffaw.

  ‘Well?’ Ellin asked. ‘Your sword is already magic. All the tricks are up your sleeve. The least you can do is show you’re not scared of him.’

  ‘Scared of him?’ Grendel repeated with mock offence. ‘This is a hollow contest because I cannot be beaten as it is, but it amuses me on an otherwise dull day so I’m permitting it. All right, Your Highness – and only because I like your courage – I will agree to your terms.’ He muttered words that no one understood and the gleaming sword dropped from where it hovered above Lex’s head height to just above waist height. ‘Is that better?’

  ‘It’s certainly fairer,’ Ellin agreed, watching for Flynn to nod at her. ‘And it cannot rise above the height of Flynn’s reach.’

  ‘Enough!’ Grendel commanded. ‘It is done. Let us get on with our contest.’ He grinned with undisguised malevolence. ‘Oh, and here’s my condition, Your Highness. You made one, so I think it’s only fair that I do.’ Ellin fixed him with a stare but said nothing. Grendel continued. ‘I’d like you to stand behind your champion, Your Highness. That way, he’s fighting for something he really cares about.’

  When no one moved, the sword flicked towards Ellin and in proof of how keen its blade was, Flynn watched in horror as a wisp of her strawberry-gold hair fell away. ‘Without you, Flynn, the next time it may be her beautiful skin that is cut,’ Grendel warned.

  Duke Jolien leapt to put himself between Ellin and the sword. ‘Stay right behind me, Your Highness. Move only when I do.’

  ‘Flynn, you can’t –’

  ‘I must. Do as I say, please.’

  He turned back to a smiling Grendel but watched as Lex firmed his grip on the magical sword’s hilt. Now, with Lex holding the sword and at the right height, he had a far better perception of what the sword might do and which direction it might move in. It wasn’t ideal but it was better than fighting what had essentially been thin air.

  ‘Lex has called out that he’s in place. I trust you both,’ Ellin whispered only for Flynn’s hearing.

  ‘Ready, Flynn Jolien?’ Grendel said, smiling slyly.

  ‘I’m waiting for you, Grendel,’ Flynn replied, his gaze riveted on Lex and the pulsing sword cutting through the air in front of him.

  Flynn licked his lips. ‘How do I know when I’ve beaten it?’ he asked, without shifting his gaze from the whooshing, swiping blade.

  ‘Oh, you’ll know,’ Grendel laughed.

  ‘A blade is only as good as the person wielding it, Grendel, and your dastardly sword will never again get close enough to Her Highness to touch another hair on her head.’

  Flynn watched the sword slice with menace through the air as if in reply. He attuned himself to the sound in much the same way that Reeve had taught him to listen to the breathing of his opponent.

  There was a clang of swords and the duel began.

  20

  It was Silver Wind that alerted them. The trio had been sharing a modest meal below deck when they all felt the ripple pass through her.

  ‘What is it, Wind?’ Gracie cried, dropping the small knuckle of bread she’d been holding and already behind Little Thom and Olof up the small flight of wooden stairs leading onto the main deck.

  Olof had grabbed the spyglass but Little Thom’s keen eyes spotted them first.

  ‘There!’ he said, pointing. ‘Two figures I see.’

  Bitter Olof swung the spyglass around but Calico Grace was too fast. She snatched it from his hands and ignored his jumping protestations. ‘I’m captain, remember?’

  ‘Who will ever be allowed to forget?’ Bitter Olof grumbled.

  But when Gracie let out a low groan, he was instantly tender. ‘What is it, my love?’

  ‘It’s her,’ she said, pushing the glass back into her husband’s hands. ‘She’s me.’

  Bitter Olof raised the spyglass once again and squinted. Right enough he saw the two figures and his breath caught when he saw the beautiful face of his wife. ‘Grevilya,’ he whispered, sounding strained and desperately sad. ‘I knew it. I knew she would be here.’

  ‘Let me see,’ Little Thom demanded and was handed the glass. He took a deep br
eath and focused. After a pause, he spoke to them both. ‘I presume that is Simeon with her … The one the King warned us of?’

  ‘He could be anyone,’ Bitter Olof said forlornly. ‘But yes, it would be right to presume that.’

  ‘Gracie,’ Little Thom started gently. ‘You should tell yourself that she is not you. She has stolen your shell, that’s all. You have the beautiful you – the real you – still inside.’

  Gracie nodded half-heartedly.

  Little Thom put the glass down and joined his friends, now sitting dejected on the deck. ‘Listen to me, both of you. Appearances are deceiving. She is living proof of that. She can make herself look like someone else – and so can he – but inside they are both evil, filled with desire to bring mischief into the world.’

  They smiled and mumbled thanks.

  ‘That didn’t sound like you meant it. Come on. Are you as determined as I am to foil Grevilya?’

  ‘Yes!’ they said, loudly, now as one.

  ‘Shout it!’ Little Thom urged. ‘And mean it. No one but Silver Wind and us share this, so yell it as loud as you can.’

  ‘YES!’ they both hollered.

  He grinned as Silver Wind gave a tremble from bow to stern. ‘So what’s the plan, Bitter Olof?’

  Flynn blocked the lightning-fast swoop of Grendel’s sword and the ringing sound of metal was a sharp screech into the tense silence. He could feel Ellin, moving in perfect tandem behind him; Grendel was right, he was no longer fighting for his life but for one he cared much more about. Not only was she the heir to the throne but he knew now that he loved Ellin and couldn’t let any harm come to her. What’s more, she had risked her life for him in bringing him here. It was time to prove that Pilo’s faith in him as a loyal and unwavering champion for the future queen was well invested.

  ‘Light on your feet, Your Highness,’ he warned, sounding like Master Reeve. ‘Stay up on your toes – you can move faster in all directions if you do.’

  ‘Yes, stay on those tippy toes, Your Highness,’ Grendel taunted, ‘or feel the sting of my blade.’

  Flynn watched Lex move right and then his expression of intense concentration changed in a heartbeat as Grendel’s blade swerved back and left. It was a feint but Flynn was ahead of it; he’d read the subtle changes in Lex’s face, his balance, his footwork, and could thus anticipate how the sword might move.