The Rumpelgeist

by Fiona McIntosh

  ‘Er … what’s going on?’ he groaned, hoping to deflect their attention but unhappy to hear that a womanly voice was still his companion.

  ‘You be quiet, Greenleaf, or whoever you are. I’ll deal with you later,’ Simeon said, but Little Thom wasn’t going to be quiet.

  He stood and unhappily caught sight of himself in the mirror that was hung above the grand fireplace. Reflected back was Grace, or was it Grevilya? He gave a loud, womanly shriek and then was too shocked to say anything while he let the full extent of what had occurred settle into his mind. He swung around to face Grevilya and saw the same revulsion reflected in her expression.

  ‘Is Bitter Olof here, Lara?’ she demanded.

  He said nothing.

  ‘Don’t pretend to me anymore. The spell cannot lie. It chose to make you in the image of what your beloved might love in a woman. And this is the result. Me!’

  ‘Not you, Grevilya,’ Little Thom said, no longer bothering to keep up his charade and revolted by his latest change. His voice had dropped to a murmur and though they were set in a beautiful face now, his eyes stared at her with such coldness he watched her take a step back. ‘But in the likeness of the woman whose looks you stole. Bitter Olof is my friend – my most beloved friend.’

  Grevilya frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Good,’ Little Thom said.

  ‘Is he here?’ Grevilya demanded.

  He shrugged. ‘Who knows? He could be working in cohorts with Grendel, whom you clearly fear. He may even be riding in with the King, who I’m sure isn’t far away.’

  They heard a soft creak upstairs.

  ‘Did you hear that?’ Simeon wondered.

  Grevilya grimaced. ‘It’s an old house, Simeon, be still.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘The grimoire would warn us of any intruder,’ she admonished. ‘You know how she hates to be disturbed. It’s just the house settling. It’s not used to having guests.’

  Simeon returned his attention to Grevilya’s double. ‘The King has no idea where we are,’ he hissed, his forked tongue lashing out and tasting the air.

  ‘You’re wrong, serpent!’ Ellin warned. ‘My father knows exactly where we are.’

  ‘You were not followed,’ Grevilya smirked.

  ‘No, but he knew you were out west.’

  ‘How?’

  Ellin shook her head with a smirk. ‘I’m sure you’d love to know.’

  ‘Then he can spend a lifetime searching the huge western coast,’ Grevilya taunted.

  ‘He doesn’t have to. Just as you do, he has powerful magic on his side. Grendel’s magic!’ Ellen said, twisting what she hoped was a blade into Grevilya’s heart.

  ‘You lie!’

  ‘I have no reason to lie.’

  Grevilya began to rage at Ellin, who ignored her and instead turned to Little Thom.

  ‘Are you who I think you are?’

  Little Thom nodded with a sad, lopsided smile.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Ellin said, nodding at the obvious.

  ‘What can be done can be undone,’ he said, this time with a shrug. ‘You remind me of your father, Your Highness,’ he said quietly beneath a torrent of abuse from Grevilya, ‘and not just in looks.’ He went down on one knee, despite struggling with his frock, and paid her the highest respect he could. ‘Stay strong, Your Highness,’ he urged as Simeon shoved him roughly back and away from Ellin.

  ‘That’s no way to treat a lady,’ Little Thom complained.

  ‘Do I look like I care?’ Simeon glowered. ‘Grevilya, make him still!’

  Little Thom blinked in confusion but Grevilya was obediently saying words he didn’t understand and suddenly, unhappily, he felt his limbs stiffen, and soon enough he felt himself pinned to the spot. He groaned. The sensation of being able to move one’s limbs but not move from the spot was disturbing.

  ‘What is your plan, Simeon?’ Grevilya asked.

  ‘You leave Miss Greenleaf to me. Deal with the girl.’

  Ellin’s look of pure hatred was powerful enough to curdle milk. ‘It doesn’t matter what you do to me witch, I will always be a true royal – and it looks like you’ll always be his slave,’ she said, gesturing at Simeon.

  Before Grevilya could reply, Simeon hissed. ‘I shall slay your companions – the boy and the centaur – in front of you if you don’t tell us what arrangement you’ve made with Grendel,’ he said, dragging Little Thom out through the double doors. ‘Don’t fall for a child’s taunts, Grevilya. I’ll be back shortly.’

  In the copse of trees, Gaston was saying goodbye in the Silvering.

  One more favour, Davren asked. Do you recall the powerful sorcerer, Grendel?

  How could I forget him? And how did I know his name would one day be spoken between us?

  Nothing to fear. Right now his power is in serious decline – in fact I think for the time being it has been quietened. Grendel will recover it but slowly.

  I’m impressed.

  He’s imprisoned in ice.

  Gaston laughed. How clever of you, Dav.

  Not my doing but I witnessed it. We can’t leave him where he is, though. Gaston explained the location. I wondered if you would take him away with you.

  And what would you have me do with him? I’ll gladly drop him in the ocean on my way home, the gryphon offered.

  That won’t be necessary. I want to ensure his powers take a long, long time to return to him. I think we should keep him encased in ice – apparently he sleeps, undisturbed and without any knowledge of it or suffering. However, I do think a freezing and barren landscape might be just the place to keep him quiet. Can you take him back to the mountains with you for now? Davren asked. We shall decide what to do with him after I have spoken with King Lute.

  As you wish, Gaston replied. I am friendly with the local Krampus, whom Grendel should not wish to irritate. With his help I shall keep the sorcerer imprisoned firmly in ice until you send instructions.

  Fly safely! Davren called.

  The connection was cut off abruptly. Flynn looked up but the gryphon had disappeared into the night.

  ‘Why is he leaving? He could help us?’ Flynn asked, still picturing those savagely clawed wingtips and that great hooked beak.

  ‘He already has,’ Davren said. ‘Now it’s up to us.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘Gaston is not a creature to be commanded and it is only through his loyalty to Tess that he came from the mountains to help us.’

  ‘From the mountains?’ Flynn gasped, wondering just how fast the gryphon must have flown to reach them.

  ‘He has always been reclusive; his kind is. For him to linger is to risk being seen and then he would be followed, or worse, hunted. He would be such a rare prize and so he is protecting the few of his kind that remain, but especially his son.’ Davren got a misty look in his eye. ‘Imagine that, a new gryphon.’ He turned to Flynn and gave a sad smile. ‘He saved our lives the last time the Crown was threatened. I would ask no more of him, nor should you.’

  Flynn nodded. In the short time he’d known the centaur, Flynn had decided he was the most noble individual he’d ever met.

  ‘What’s a krampus, anyway?’

  ‘You would never wish to meet one on a dark night is all I will say,’ Davren said, grinning.

  ‘So we go after Ellin alone.’

  ‘Wait, we should –’

  But Flynn shook his head. ‘No waiting. I swore that I would protect the Crown Princess with my life.’

  ‘And what if you get yourself easily killed for it?’

  ‘Then I have carried out the role I was groomed for.’

  ‘To die?’ Davren said with only a hint of dryness in his tone.

  ‘If necessary.’

  ‘Well, if I may, brave Duke? Let me suggest you put that energy towards undermining Grevilya and Simeon, rather than rushing in and brandishing a sword. They could overwhelm you with magic before you even got your blade from its scabbard.’

 
Flynn knew Davren was right. He drew a hand across his mud-streaked face. ‘What do you suggest?’

  ‘Well, the Silvering is a strange magic. We don’t see things so much as “feel” them, as well as hear?’

  Flynn nodded.

  ‘Were you aware of a shrill sound in the outskirts of the Silvering?’

  Flynn frowned as he tried to recall. ‘No, I was aware of Gaston and some other individuals on the rim of my mind but no other sounds.’

  ‘I heard a shrill scream –’ Davren began.

  ‘Princess Ellin!’ Flynn exclaimed, startled into action.

  ‘Wait, Flynn! It wasn’t Ellin, or rather it was, but it wasn’t her scream. Let me explain. Do you know that she possesses a magical item – a Whistle? It’s very powerful and it was fashioned by Grendel.’

  Flynn looked at the centaur with incredulity.

  ‘I can see she hasn’t mentioned it. The Whistle was given to Pilo, who gave it to King Lute, who in turn gave it to Ellin. I doubt very much that she’s ever had to use it before. But I’m guessing she found a reason while being hauled off by the serpent-man.’

  ‘What does the Whistle do?’

  ‘It summons Pilo. It is meant for his ears alone. Lute blew it once and once only as a boy when his life was threatened. And I suspect Ellin has done the same. It means Pilo can pinpoint her location precisely.’

  Flynn caught on. ‘Ah. And bring soldiers.’

  ‘Exactly. Now, I know King Lute was planning to put soldiers into the region. They can’t be far away but they were waiting for a signal from me via Duchess Tess. With Ellin’s Whistle already blown, I suspect they’re already galloping our way. But to be safe, I’ll confirm with Tess. In the meantime, my suggestion is that we get away from the pit but remain hidden until Pilo and King Lute get here. Then we can plan our attack properly.’

  ‘What about Princess Ellin?’

  ‘She’s in no immediate danger, I suspect. She’s their bargaining power. If you go rushing in there it might only complicate an already complex situation. We’re better off trying to work out if we can free the children.’

  Flynn hated not being able to follow Ellin but Davren’s plan made a lot of sense and as he nodded, he saw Lex appear. He looked frightened, and full of concern.

  It didn’t matter that he couldn’t hear Lex. Flynn was not interested in anything the Rumpelgeist had to say. He lurched at the ghostly vision of his former friend and snarled at him. ‘Get away from us!’ he commanded. ‘Go on, run to your witch and your serpent friend, you treacherous scum.’

  Lex looked mortified and fled.

  Davren glanced at Flynn. ‘That might not have been wise.’

  ‘Made me feel better though,’ Flynn admitted and walked away. ‘Tell the Duchess, and then we’d better get out of here. Lex is probably already telling our enemies we’ve escaped the pit.’

  31

  Lex moved forlornly. He’d tried to get Ellin to see the situation from his point of view but she’d had nothing but contempt for him. He’d hoped he could persuade Flynn to hear him out, listen to his plan somehow, but Flynn was just as disgusted to see him and hadn’t given him a chance. He sensed that Davren would have heard him out but the centaur was deferring to Flynn.

  As he drifted down the side of the house, making his way to the barn in a roundabout way so he had time to think, his attention was caught by an incredible sight. It was impossible and yet he was seeing it.

  A dwarf was leaning out of Grevilya’s chamber window and in his hands was unmistakably Grevilya’s precious grimoire. What in Lo’s curious world was the dwarf planning to do, Lex wondered. He could see Starling’s familiar glow twittering alongside the book but more astonishing, he could see two sprites. The other sprite flanked the book, pulsing a strong green light to her softer bluey-green hue. It was Wren, he realised, and he felt a spike of joy. His gaze shifted to where below the window, hollering as softly as possible beneath cupped hands, stood a man – or was that a woman? This curious quartet was stealing the grimoire and the book was not objecting at this point. But he was certain the grimoire would be screaming within the next few moments when they dropped it. He had one more chance to redeem himself.

  ‘Just let it go,’ he heard the man–woman below growl softly into the night.

  Lex leapt, using all the speed that his strange and misty form permitted.

  ‘Starling, wait! Hello Wren …’ Lex gave a sad shrug and a lopsided grin.

  Bitter Olof frowned. ‘You stopped counting, Wren,’ he whispered. ‘Should I let go?’

  ‘A moment, please, Bitter Olof,’ Wren said. ‘Lex, are you friend or foe? Now is your moment of truth. Stand up for what’s right, boy!’

  Lex swallowed. He had never wanted to be anything more than a true servant to the royals. It hurt him worse than any other pain to know that they thought badly of him. ‘I am friend, King Wren. I’m here to help. But you have to help me to get the children free.’

  The sprite king nodded. ‘It’s our intention.’

  ‘Then I will lend you my strength,’ Lex said. ‘I’ve learned how to make this ghostly body of mine throw things around. There’s no reason why I can’t carry this book but that man down there will have to take it because if I lower it to the ground, the grimoire will start to –’

  Starling giggled in spite of their dire situation. ‘That’s no man, Lex. That’s Calico Grace, a famous pirate and loyal friend to the Crown.’

  ‘Who are you talking to?’ Olof asked, sounding baffled.

  ‘A friend,’ Wren said, fixing Lex with a firm gaze. ‘His name is Lex. He’s the Drestonian Rumpelgeist but he’s come to help us. I’ll explain later, Olof. Let go now, dwarf.’

  Bitter Olof looked confounded but let go and watched amazed as the sprites also let go but the grimoire travelled smoothly, slowly and safely in its descent towards Gracie; all the while Starling sang softly alongside it, keeping it soothed and calm. Clearly, the Rumpelgeist had made all the difference.

  It landed gently in Gracie’s hands. Olof let out a soft sigh of relief, and was just about to start clambering out of the window when Starling and Wren pushed him back in and a loud hissing voice rent the air.

  ‘And who in all the fires of the damned are you?’ the newcomer yelled, and grabbed for Gracie. She tried to shake him off but he was strong and the grimoire woke up and began a fearful shrieking. With no Starling to calm it, its wails intensified until Gracie had to drop it and cover her ears.

  ‘Too late, Olof, it’s Simeon. Flee!’ Starling urged.

  Olof looked down in despair to see Gracie in the serpent-man’s grip. ‘I have to save –’

  ‘You can’t do anything against him,’ Starling urged. ‘He’s too strong. Live to fight another day. He won’t do anything to her … yet. Come, we must hide you. He hasn’t seen you or us yet. That’s our only hope.’

  They bundled him back into Grevilya’s chamber.

  ‘Where’s that Rumpelgeist thing?’ Bitter Olof demanded, looking petrified for his wife.

  ‘He’s gone to find the others,’ Wren assured. ‘I shall go too. Starling –’

  ‘I’m not leaving, Wren. We’re in this with them. I shall hide Olof. Quick, up the chimney with you, dwarf. We can get you out onto the roof from there. Move! Silent now.’

  Bitter Olof looked at the two sprites, torn. ‘My wife …’

  ‘Lex said Grevilya’s more occupied by the King’s imminent arrival than with Calico Grace right now. Do as Starling says and hide until we can formulate a plan.’

  Olof allowed himself to be shoved up the chimney, glad for the small mercy of footholds in the flue. Together with Starling he began another laborious climb, this time towards the roof. They emerged, tiptoed to the edge, following the sound of the grimoire’s wails, and looked down, just in time to witness in horror as Grevilya – who had obviously rushed out at the sound of her screaming book – cast a spell over the wriggling Grace, still in the grip of the vile serpent-man.
r />   ‘She’s used her inertia spell,’ Starling said. ‘She’s very proud of it, probably because it’s the one she can remember. It isn’t a full paralysis – that one’s too hard for her to remember. Your wife can’t move from her spot but she can talk, move her limbs.’

  They watched as Grevilya picked up the fallen grimoire and stroked it. Her voice, though not Starling’s lovely singing, calmed it immediately. ‘Ah, my poor treasure. Forgive me for being so lax. There, there. I shall summon Starling and she will sing to you.’

  The book quietened, sounding weary, like a child needing its sleep, beginning to drift into slumber.

  Grevilya walked around Grace, a look of fascination on her face. Simeon had let her go now and was standing back to enjoy the scene of Calico Grace’s attempts to move from where she was pinned by magic.

  ‘Struggle all you like, pirate,’ Simeon lisped. ‘You’re going nowhere. Perhaps you should join the huge woman that we now realise is a friend of yours … or rather, your husband’s?’ He looked at Grevilya.

  ‘We’ll drag them both out to the front, shall we, so the King can appreciate my new sculptures. I’d like to add Olof – then I can have my own living garden gnome.’ The witch laughed loudly at her jest. ‘Lo’s fire, but I was ugly. I’m glad you wear my skin now, Grace,’ she added.

  Grace stopped her struggles and hung in the air still but defiant. ‘Pity you wear mine so badly,’ she replied.

  Grevilya turned her attention back to Simeon. ‘Put them out the front. We have to find the dwarf.’

  ‘Yes, he has some companions I must see to in the woods.’

  ‘What companions?’

  ‘No one to trouble you, my dear Grevilya. You concentrate on the King and keeping that grimoire close.’

  Starling smiled in the dark. ‘He isn’t telling her about the centaur and the boy called Flynn.’

  ‘Davren’s here?’

  She nodded. ‘The Princess is captive too, Lex said.’

  Bitter Olof’s shoulders slumped. ‘They’ve got us at every turn.’