The Rumpelgeist

by Fiona McIntosh

  ‘Oh, stop your bleating, ghost. You’re making my teeth ache. Go to your precious children. When I’m ready I may consider freeing you.’

  ‘I hope that’s made it clear to you now, Lex,’ Ellin remarked. ‘I’m sad for you. She will leave you as the Rumpelgeist. You should have stayed loyal. She has no intention, and never did, of releasing you or the others.’

  Grevilya laughed, clearly assuming he’d left, although neither of them could know.

  ‘He will turn against you, just like everyone else will,’ Ellin said, in her best withering tone.

  The witch gave a snarl. ‘Lex is a ghost. He can’t do anything other than sulk.’

  ‘So what do you want, Grevilya?’

  ‘I’m glad you asked me that,’ the witch said with a nasty smile.

  29

  Upstairs and unaware that the Crown Princess of Drestonia was already in the witch’s clutch, Bitter Olof looked at the sprite for reassurance.

  Starling nodded. ‘Grimoire’s dreaming peacefully,’

  ‘How do you know?’ Bitter Olof whispered, carefully placing his feet precisely where Starling pointed.

  ‘Because she’s humming my Pipit’s lullaby and counting in Farfallan. She’s happy if she uses that language.’

  Bitter Olof visibly let out his breath. Together they helped him to tiptoe, taking it slowly until finally the patience paid off. Olof stood before the chest. He could see the grimoire, its purple velvet tattered in places.

  ‘This guards the secret to my freedom and that of my wife,’ he whispered.

  ‘You are familiar with Grimoire’s ways?’

  ‘Some. Although now it seems to have taken on a life of its own.’

  ‘It’s like a tired child, always needing soothing. Grevilya is not very adept with it; you’d think after all these years together they’d know how to get the best from each other.’ She shrugged. ‘However, she loves it and it loves her.’

  Olof gave a rueful smile. ‘Like most parents and children then.’

  ‘It’s counting again.’

  The book began to count loudly in a language he’d never heard.

  Starling laid a tiny hand on his shoulder. ‘This is normal. She’s counting her spells. She keeps very careful accounts. As Grevilya is always reminding her, Grimoire is the keeper of the spells and if she forgets one or mislays one, it is lost forever.’

  Bitter Olof took a steadying breath, knowing this was it – the moment when he confronted years of bitterness and regrets, knowing he could undo them as soon as he destroyed this book.

  The grimoire paused her counting to give a small, frightened yelp.

  Starling scowled at him. ‘No angry thoughts either,’ she warned. ‘Be careful now, Bitter Olof, you must guard your mind or she will know you mean her harm.’

  Bitter Olof let out his startled breath quietly. Think happy thoughts, he told himself, and remembered the day he gave Grace the Silver Wind as a gift. He had never seen his wife more at peace than the day she had taken the name Calico Grace after her new ship’s beautiful white sails.

  ‘Ah, that’s good, Olof,’ Starling soothed. ‘Listen to how she sighs. The key comforts her too – she knows not to fear anyone who has the key. No sudden movements, no voice. Just let her hear me. I’m going to start singing now to reassure her. And Wren and I have decided that we will fly her down.’

  ‘Can you carry her weight?’ Bitter Olof whispered.

  Starling shook her head. ‘Is Gracie a good catch?’

  Bitter Olof looked at her, baffled.

  ‘Trust me,’ Starling said and nodded at him reassuringly. ‘Turn the key gently.’

  Bitter Olof gently placed the silver key into the lock, noticing how smoothly it fitted as he turned it once. He heard a satisfying click and the grimoire made new noises as though stirring and yawning. Next to him Queen Starling began to sing, nodding at him to gently reach in and lift the book from its resting place.

  He closed his eyes, cast a prayer to Lo and thought of Gracie waiting below. ‘This is for you, my love,’ he breathed and reached in carefully.

  Flynn and Davren had scrutinised every bit of the deep pit in which they were trapped.

  ‘Even if you climb on my shoulders, you’re not going to be able to haul yourself out,’ Davren finally said.

  ‘We have to try!’ Flynn urged, grabbing at tufts of grass that refused to hold his weight.

  ‘Stop!’

  ‘Davren, we –’

  ‘Stop, Flynn! Listen to me. We cannot climb out. We need help and there is only one way, given that time is our enemy.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  Davren sighed. ‘I promised I’d never do it again.’

  ‘Do what?’ Flynn asked, frowning.

  But Davren had closed his eyes and Flynn was about to press him when he felt an odd sensation of light-headedness come over him as the Silvering opened in his mind.

  You said you’d tell me what this is that we do.

  It’s a spiritual power of the forest and of its creatures. It is one of the wild magics, which is probably why you and Duke Griff can access it. Ellin can’t, which is a pity, but she will have other talents.

  Princess Ellin doesn’t need magic – I think she’s perfect as she is. Flynn hadn’t realised how loud his private thoughts could sound within the Silvering.

  He sensed Davren smiling at him but was glad when the centaur left the topic alone. I accessed the Silvering to communicate with Gaston. You are most welcome to remain with me while I speak with him.

  Gaston?

  The Silvering was as beautiful as ever to Davren.

  Well, well … sounded a voice he knew and loved. Greetings, Davren.

  It’s been a long time, my friend, Davren replied, thrilled to hear Gaston’s voice. Are you happy?

  Until I heard your voice, the gryphon replied dryly before chuckling. You know I would never give offence to the King of the Centaurs, Gaston said, sounding full of affection now. Are you in trouble?

  I would not ask for myself.

  Another royal? Gaston jibed.

  It is Princess Ellin who is in trouble this time.

  Tess’s niece?

  And very fond of her Tess is, Davren assured.

  He heard the great gryphon sigh. Tell me.

  Davren told him everything he could as quickly as he could, while on the rim of his mind he could see the glowing colours of Sylph and the presence of Elph, and even Rix made a brief appearance to check that Davren was not injured.

  Don’t let Tess know anything yet. She is a new mother and needs no anxiety, please, Davren urged.

  But you’re safe, aren’t you, Dav? Rix pressed.

  I will be if Gaston agrees.

  The others waited in the glittering of the Silvering awaiting their biggest, most fearsome friend’s response.

  I am a father now, Davren.

  Davren smiled. The creatures of the forest will celebrate for you.

  He felt the gryphon mentally shrug. I wondered if I would ever find a female of my species; I have hunted far and wide across many lands … as far west as Tallinor and to the east into Percheron.

  Davren had never been to the lands his friend spoke of but he suspected they were impossible to reach by anything but interminably long sea voyages … or with a great set of wings and the powerful body that Gaston possessed.

  I found her living alone on a remote island in the east. Her name is Polonya. She is shy but she has given me a robust, fine son called Felyx.

  My heart is glad for you, Gaston.

  Perhaps there is one for you … a family to be enjoyed, Gaston suggested, and the others giggled within the Silvering. And to this end I now feel obliged to help you or you may never get that chance to have a family and know what it feels like to be a father.

  I am mortified that I’ve had to break faith with you and ask. I gave my word.

  You kept it, Gaston said. You have never asked for my help on your behalf. I cannot stay tho
ugh, Davren.

  You don’t have to. This is my fight and I’m going to enjoy bringing about the demise of those who would threaten our King, his child, the people who have shown us such generosity.

  I will find you in moments. I already know through the Silvering where you are.

  Come in stealth, my friend.

  Always, Gaston replied and the link to the Silvering was cut and Davren’s eyes opened.

  ‘That was incredible,’ Flynn said, shaking his head with disbelief. ‘I heard voices and saw images – none I could make out properly but I knew others were with me in my mind.’

  Davren nodded. ‘You will never be alone again, Flynn. The Silvering is your gift.’

  ‘Although nothing’s changed,’ Flynn said, ‘despite my newfound magic. We’re still in a pit, Ellin’s still trapped by that evil serpent, Lex is still a traitor and we are no closer to releasing those children than when we set out. And why are you smiling?’

  ‘Because of this,’ Davren said and reached an arm up.

  Flynn raised his gaze and was awestruck to see a great winged creature lowering itself silently. The huge shadow overwhelmed the pit and turned the dusk to night and the hovering animal, beating its vast wings, tore the words of surprise from Flynn’s mouth and forced him to close his eyes just as a great clawed foot reached down and Davren grabbed on. Flynn felt his hair flap from his face but in spite of his shock he opened his eyes to slits and watched the centaur being lifted clear of the pit.

  Davren grinned. ‘We call Gaston a gryphon,’ he said, ‘but he prefers us to be specific,’ he called down the pit as he was hoisted slowly. ‘He is a hippogriff.’

  ‘So a mix of many creatures,’ Flynn said in a voice filled with wonder.

  ‘Indeed, and a combination to be feared – lion, eagle dragon, serpent.’

  ‘He’s magnificent! How fortunate that he’s your friend.’

  ‘He is a friend to the Crown of Drestonia as well.’

  The creature settled Davren onto the ground and looked at him before they both turned and stared at Flynn.

  ‘Care to ride with a gryphon, Flynn?’ and Davren laughed loudly at the young duke’s whoop of answering joy. ‘How silly of me to wonder.’

  With Wren’s encouragement and Starling’s singing Olof had tiptoed back across the chamber, painfully slow, but finally made it to the window with the grimoire still peaceful.

  ‘Now what?’ he wondered as he watched the sprite king fly down to Gracie, who looked ecstatically relieved. But he couldn’t risk returning her wave.

  Starling stopped her soft song. ‘Wren is explaining to your wife that she has to catch the grimoire.’

  ‘From here? Are you mad, you two?’

  ‘Hush, Olof!’ She glared and immediately in fright they both began humming the lullaby. It helped. The grimoire seemed to enjoy the addition of a male voice.

  With an apologetic expression, he whispered. ‘But from this height even if she does catch it, the book is going to feel the disturbance.’

  ‘Which is why Wren and I will fly her down the drop.’

  ‘Carry her?’ he whispered, astonished. ‘Neither of you can bear her weight.’

  Starling hummed again and gave him an exasperated look. ‘We have no choice. We will do our best to attempt to support its weight but Gracie needs soft hands to catch it.’

  ‘Attempt?’ Bitter Olof repeated, incredulous. ‘Soft hands? Bah!’

  ‘If the grimoire wakes, and it’s going to at some stage, your wife must run. I’ll follow and do my best to soothe it. It trusts me. It won’t completely panic if I’m close and maybe we can contain its complaints long enough until Calico Grace can destroy it,’ Starling said matter-of-factly. ‘But this is a last chance for all of us. I can’t imagine you want to pull out now. And I am not spending another moment in this household now that I know my husband and son are safe. I’m risking a little longer to help you because I want to see those children released.’ The sprite queen blazed blue-green.

  Olof nodded. ‘Then it is important we all gird our courage.’ He looked at the sleeping grimoire and for a pinprick of a moment felt a twinge of sympathy for it. ‘You could almost feel sad, couldn’t you?’ he whispered to Wren who had flown back up.

  But Starling looked stern at his remark. ‘Don’t be fooled by its childlike qualities. It is as evil as she is. The grimoire has formed itself – as you say, it was once just a book, but now it has a personality, a life of its own. The magic is sinister and it guards its spells with vigour and does not care a whit about the violence done in its name and by its owner. What she has done just to the sprite kingdom is unforgiveable but Grevilya’s reach is far – even you have felt her ugly touch.’

  Bitter Olof nodded at her sage counsel. Inside the pages of the book were many cruel spells. Starling was absolutely right.

  He set his jaw firmly. ‘We have to destroy this,’ Bitter Olof whispered low.

  Wren nodded while Starling hummed. ‘Ready?’ the sprite king mouthed. He gestured to Starling to take the other side of the grimoire, while he gently placed his small hands beneath its opposite side. Bitter Olof didn’t need to be told that he must now carefully lean out the window and hold the velvet-covered book in mid-air.

  ‘Wait!’ the dwarf said in an urgent whisper.

  Wren glared at him.

  ‘Won’t she feel the change in temperature?’

  Starling nodded while she hummed. ‘It’s all right,’ she sang to the tune of Pipit’s lullaby. ‘She’s used to being taken outside by Grevilya.’

  Bitter Olof let go of the breath in a long, slow sigh and with great care held the grimoire out before him as he ducked beneath the window frame and out into the cool night. Either side of the book the sprites looked as tense as he felt. The grimoire stirred, feeling the soft breeze against her velvet. She mumbled something unintelligible, chuckled to herself, but settled again, as though turning over in her sleep at the sound of Starling’s gentle singing.

  Olof stole a glance at Gracie, who already had her arms extended, awaiting her prize.

  ‘All right. Let’s do it. Good luck,’ Olof whispered. ‘And thank you, Your Majesties.’

  They both gave him a regal nod and Wren began to count in a whisper backwards from three.

  30

  While his closest friend was climbing through an upstairs window, Little Thom was regaining his wits. Had someone just kicked his shin? Little Thom’s vision was blurred as he blinked, so he closed his eyes almost as fast as they’d flickered open. The headache had disappeared but his memory of it was enough to make him dizzy. His tongue felt thick and his face felt strange; tighter somehow. He didn’t want to reach up and scratch the spot that was itching on his chin because he didn’t want to alert the others in the room that he was awake. It was better to play ‘dead’ until he could work out the situation he was in.

  He took a few moments to recall what exactly had happened and then when it all came rushing back into his thoughts he had to stop himself from groaning. He forced himself to remain still, to remain calm. This was all about giving his friends back their bodies but most importantly – and perhaps firstly – ensuring the safety of the Crown Princess.

  ‘… give you nothing that helps you in your evil plan,’ he heard the new voice finish. It was a young voice but cultured and composed. Little Thom opened his eyes to slits and made out the shape of a slim youngster, with hair the colour of ripening peaches – a soft pinky gold – and her features reminiscent of the King as a lad.

  His belly did a flip. Lo’s Fire! he swore to himself. It was Princess Ellin and she was already in their grasp. He cursed inwardly again. The situation had become doubly dangerous. He listened.

  ‘Oh, you don’t have to do anything, young lady,’ Simeon replied.

  ‘That’s right,’ Grevilya continued. ‘The mere fact that we have you is more than enough for your father to do everything we want, including walking away from his throne.’

  ‘You
’re deluded,’ Ellin said, her tone scathing.

  ‘Then he will die,’ Simeon said sweetly. ‘And so will everyone who opposes us, although we could unleash our small army of ghosts – explain to their parents what we’ve done to their children and can do to many others. That would force the King’s hand, make him submit to us.’

  ‘I came here to parley the children’s release.’

  ‘We know what you thought you came for,’ Simeon chided dryly. ‘But the truth is that Lex got you to play right into our plans. It was you we were after, sweet princess. We couldn’t give a fig about the Florian children.’

  So children were being used as pawns in the dangerous game that Grevilya had decided to play. Little Thom didn’t think it was possible to like anyone less than he liked Grevilya but this sidekick of hers was detestable.

  ‘What about Lex?’ he heard Ellin demand.

  ‘What about him? I care even less about your treacherous Lex than I do about the rest of his kind,’ Grevilya drawled.

  ‘His kind?’ Ellin queried. ‘They are children. Some of them barely out of infanthood. How callous!’

  Grevilya laughed. ‘Oh, spoken like a queen that will never be. I shall enjoy wearing your crown, Ellin.’

  ‘It will never happen, witch,’ Ellin replied, her tone so full of disdain it cut like a blade, and now Little Thom wanted to applaud her. He opened his eyes more to observe.

  ‘Is that so?’ Simeon hissed.

  Ellin nodded. ‘Did you really think we came alone?’

  For the first time since he’d met them, Little Thom heard Grevilya sound anxious.

  ‘Lex was with you all the way,’ she spluttered.

  ‘Indeed, he was. But did he tell you which way we came and where we stopped?’ Ellin baited.

  Simeon made a fresh hissing sound. ‘What are you talking about?’

  Through slitted eyes Little Thom watched Ellin shrug and wanted to smile. She was facing him and he was sure she could tell he was awake, so he risked it. He gave her a wink; and knew she’d seen it.

  ‘I’m talking about the sorcerer, Grendel. Did he mention that we made a bargain with him?’

  ‘What?’ Grevilya shrieked. ‘You lie, you little wretch.’ She raised a hand but Simeon stopped her and Little Thom, now sitting up, was impressed to see that Ellin had not even flinched.