Mulrox and the Malcognitos

by Kerelyn Smith

  “What is that thing?” Mulrox whispered, wishing he had done a better job imagining Rock-like-skin in case it looked over toward them.

  “This is bad,” Yvwi said.

  The malcognito next to him trembled. Mulrox extended a hand out toward it, and it leaned into him exactly as Geraldine would have. Mulrox glanced down. It was the toad with the spring legs, Toad-springs-eternal.

  “Is that the Vaccus?” Mulrox asked.

  “No,” Yvwi said. “But it’s from our land. It followed us.”

  The creature spun about, examining the ground where Mulrox had stood only minutes before. Mulrox did not like the way it was rubbing two of its front legs together. One looked like a foot-long toothpick, the other had the angry curve of a crowbar.

  Without warning, the creature scuttled back into the depths of the herd, and the sheep closed around it. Mulrox looked around for an explanation, and then he heard shouting coming from the other side of the hill. Two ogres appeared, ambling down the road playfully, shoving one another as they walked. They got precariously close before either looked up but, upon seeing the sheep, stumbled back several paces.

  It was Broxli and Oogin.

  “This was your great surprise?” Broxli asked. “Sheep.”

  “Sheep? Are you sure…” Oogin squinted at the herd of animals.

  One of the sheep stepped forward and looked from ogre to ogre. “Mulrox?” it asked.

  “What’s wrong with these things?” Broxli said. He walked forward and knocked on one of their heads.

  The sheep nipped him.

  “Ow!” Broxli yelped.

  “You are Mulrox?” the lead sheep asked.

  “No!” Broxli said.

  “What are you, blind?” Oogin added.

  “Where is Mulrox?” the sheep demanded.

  “How am I supposed to know?” Broxli said. “He was held back after practice but ran off as soon as he could.”

  “Probably working on his special project.”

  “You believe Groxor?” Broxli asked.

  “Of course.”

  Broxli shook his head. “No way Mulrox has some big surprise for the Behemoth. He doesn’t have it in him.”

  “Where is Mulrox?” the sheep asked again.

  The ogres ignored it. “Groxor says he’s been acting suspicious. Didn’t you see him in those giant clothes at the inn?”

  “That guy shakes every time he speaks,” Broxli said. “Even if he is entering the competition, he’ll only get out five words before he passes out from fright.”

  “Fine, you’re on,” said Oogin.

  “Fine.”

  The ogres each extended a hand, spat into them, and set about gripping the other so hard their green and yellow skin started to turn white.

  The ground began to rumble again, and the ogres looked up at the sheep. They were stomping the ground with their hooves.

  “WHERE IS HOME?” The sheep was shouting now. “WHERE IS MULROX? SAY NOW.”

  “Look, fluff ball, we already told you,” Broxli growled, even as Oogin looked around uncomfortably.

  The talking sheep lowered its head and ran full speed at Oogin, ramming the ogre straight in the stomach. Oogin toppled over backward gasping.

  “Woah! Why don’t they do something?” Yvwi whispered to Mulrox.

  “Ogre honor. We’re technically not supposed to attack anything smaller than us.”

  “Isn’t that everything?”

  “Basically.

  “Seems impractical.”

  “Alright!” Broxli roared. “Let’s go.” And the green ogre dropped into his grappling pose, bouncing at the knees. “Bring it on.”

  Yvwi turned to Mulrox.

  “Broxli’s never been particularly honorable,” Mulrox said.

  The ogre charged at the sheep. Broxli knocked the front line off their feet, but as he moved into the depths of the herd, the animals closed in around him until he looked like a green yoke in a giant fried egg. He whirled his arms, but a sheep behind him barreled into his legs, sending him sprawling to the ground. Mulrox looked away as the sheep closed in over top of the ogre.

  The sheep turned back to Oogin, who was still gasping for breath. “WHERE?”

  “I… I don’t know exactly.”

  The sheep reared up on its hind legs. “PROTECTING MULROX?”

  Oogin covered himself with his arms.

  Mulrox looked up hopefully. They had never been friends exactly, but it was possible that he might…

  “Wait! No, please. I think he lives near the woods. In Ulgorprog. Where we all live. That way,” he said, pointing back the way the sheep had come. “Head down that road and you’ll get there. The other ogres will know better. Go there. They’ll tell you.”

  “Is loyalty another ogre virtue?” Yvwi asked. “Or truth…”

  The sheep went back down on all fours, but as Oogin dropped his arms, the animal leapt forward and rammed him again for good measure. Oogin collapsed in a sloppy yellow pile.

  “Yikes!” Yvwi sounded excited.

  Out of the center of the herd came grunts followed by four sheep, their teeth clamped into the ends of Broxli’s pants. They moved slowly backward, dragging him to where Oogin lay, rolling back and forth. The sheep dropped him and returned to the group.

  Bad.

  The nightmarish creature from the malcognito’s realm scuttled out in front once more and beelined for the ogres. It reached out with its awl-like arm and poked at them.

  “What’s it doing?” Mulrox asked. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

  But Yvwi for once appeared to have nothing to say.

  The creature lifted Oogin’s foot, examined it, then dropped it and picked up Broxli’s foot.

  Not him. Work failed.

  The lead sheep let out an angry bleat and then turned and charged at the lone tree. It rammed the old trunk with its formidable forehead, sending a deep shudder throughout all the branches. Then it whirled and began to kick at the tree with its back hooves. There was only the briefest of pauses before the rest of the herd stampeded toward their leader and attacked the tree, kicking and butting. The tree cracked and then splintered. Branches were knocked loose and crashed to the ground where they were summarily smashed to bits. The sheep trampled and smashed until, in the space of only a few minutes, the tree was reduced to a pile of sawdust and woodchips.

  Mulrox and the malcognitos watched on in horror.

  Ulgorprog. The voice in his head was back. Find Mulrox.

  * * *

  “You better start talking,” Mulrox said.

  Rock-like-skin lifted off them and began folding himself back up into a more manageable size. Dusk was falling, and Mulrox could see the peach-and-salmon-colored skyline dotted with fluffy white clouds that now reminded him of nothing but the terrifying sheep.

  “What was that about?” Mulrox asked.

  “It’s a bit complicated,” Yvwi said.

  “That’s not going to cut it. Who were they? Why is a hoard of rabid sheep chasing me? And that thing?”

  “I don’t know. Those sheep are definitely under some kind of enchantment.”

  “What about that other creature?”

  “It’s a grinder.”

  Mulrox stared at Yvwi expectantly.

  “It’s from a different part of Sounous. We occasionally see one scurrying around and give it a wide berth.”

  Mulrox swallowed. “There’s more than one?”

  “Quite a few, though nowhere near as many as malcognitos. Sounous is mostly full of malcognitos. Grinders have never shown any interest in us before.”

  The toad-shaped malcognito with the spring legs pushed forward and bumped Yvwi with its head.

  “Yes, except for last night, like you say, Toad. We thought we might have seen one in that magnificent garden. Hence our speedy departure.”

  Fantastic, Mulrox thought. “What do we do now?” he said.

  “We?”

  Mulrox had a clear picture of himself and
Geraldine huddled in his hut as sheep bashed in the windows and smashed through the walls. Geraldine couldn’t go through that. She’d probably try to face off with them. Mulrox looked at the tree and shuddered. Even if he tried to keep her at Yahgurkin’s, there was no way she would stay hidden while sheep were hunting him. She wasn’t that kind of toad. Trolzor would take him in, but nothing in the Slobber and Snore was a secret, it would get out, and then the sheep would destroy the inn. Mulrox couldn’t let that happen.

  “I can’t stay in Ulgorprog,” Mulrox said.

  “True.”

  “And I have nowhere else to go.” Mulrox thought of his parents, their huddled outlines walking onto that ship, sailing off to who knew where.

  “Also true.”

  “But I also have to win the Behemoth.”

  “What is the Behemoth?”

  “A talent competition.”

  There was silence as Yvwi stared at him. “I did mention that all of our lives are in danger, didn’t I?”

  “It’s complicated, my great-aunt—”

  “I understand.” Yvwi cut him off. “When is this all-important competition again?”

  “Seven days.”

  “You’ll be back in time, no problem. Like I said before, the portal is a quick jaunt into the woods. You’ll just hop through the portal, defeat the Vaccus, and restore Sounous to its natural state. You’ll be back home in no time. We’ll even help with your little competition if you like.”

  “No!” Mulrox thought of the Griselda poem they had finished and shuddered.

  “Suit yourself.”

  “If I help you, will all of this go away? The sheep, the squirrelmonk, the grinder?”

  “Yes, I think so,” Yvwi said.

  “And you?” Mulrox asked. He had to get rid of them; everywhere they went, they left disaster behind. They had probably been polluting him for ages, causing all of these abandoned projects and torn-up lines. “If I help you,” Mulrox continued, “will you promise to leave? And to never interfere with me or my thoughts again?”

  “Interfere?” Yvwi asked. “We wouldn’t dream of it. You defeat the Vaccus and we’ll happily stay in Sounous. Your world is proving to be far less hospitable than we could have imagined.”

  “Alright then,” Mulrox said. “I’ll help you.”

  12

  Mulrox and the malcognitos crouched outside his hut. It had been dark for some time, but the moon was up, casting its silvery shadows across his home and the hillside. It was a half-moon tonight, and the shadow was so crisp it looked as though the moon had been sliced in two.

  “Do you see anything?” Mulrox asked.

  “No. It looks clear,” Yvwi said.

  “Okay. I’ll grab a few supplies and we’ll be on our way.” Mulrox tried not to shudder as he thought of the woods. “If you hear or see anything, give the signal and I’ll come out.”

  Mulrox scurried down to his door. A note was pinned to the outside with a wad of something sticky that he didn’t want to investigate further.

  Mulrox,

  At S&S finalizing ownership. Poem wasn’t funny.

  Better start packing. Back soon.

  - GAG

  Mulrox crumpled up the note and slipped inside. It wouldn’t matter much where he was living if that grinder turned him into sawdust.

  Okay, he thought. You can do this. We are going first to the Woods Mercurial and then on to a new dimension. What do we need? Mulrox grabbed a large backpack from his storage closet and wandered about the hut, collecting things that might come in useful. He packed rope, matches, some strips of dried meat, a bag of nuts, a couple potatoes, a block of cheese.

  Mulrox slipped down into the guest room. He threw extra socks, a poncho, and another shirt into the bag, and then he stopped. This might be the last time he ever stood in this room. He looked up at hand-painted murals, the little nooks and hidey-holes, the colorful windows, and row upon row of books. The mobile was drifting round on an almost imperceptible draft of air. Before he realized what he was doing, Mulrox stepped up onto his bed and unhooked two of the figurines. He wrapped them in his socks and shoved them into the top of his pack.

  Mulrox walked back through the living room and, as an afterthought, tied a jug of water and his best smashing club to the front.

  He thought he heard something brush up against the window, but there was nothing but those stupid puffball flowers that Yahgurkin had insisted on planting right up to his very walls.

  Yahgurkin. He would have to speak to her too. Beg her to keep Geraldine safe while he was gone. He was wondering how to go about this when the window shuddered again and Mulrox caught sight of a streak of green disappearing below the flowers, followed by what looked to be Death-with-a-kiss, Dinner-bell-of-destruction, and another spiky malcognito he didn’t recognize.

  Mulrox’s heart stuttered in his chest. He was out of time. He swung the backpack over his shoulders and dashed out the door.

  Creeping along the side of the house, he could see the malcognitos clustered in a cloud around the window, darting here and there. Yvwi was floating above, directing them.

  “It’s a spy! We caught him! The big ugly one from before.”

  “Ugly?” a low voice shouted. “You don’t even have a face!”

  Mulrox froze as he saw who was crouched there, hiding under his windowpane.

  “Groxor?” Mulrox asked.

  “Of course it’s me,” Groxor said.

  “Who sent you?” Yvwi demanded. “How long have you been working with the Vaccus?”

  Groxor batted at the malcognitos as though they were gnats.

  “I knew you were up to something, Mulrox. You and Yahgurkin. You two think you’re so special, defying all the rules. Griselda warned me about you, you know. Just when I get everything aligned, there you two come and—” Groxor stopped himself. “Anyway, you won’t win now. I caught you. Everyone is going to know about these little boogers. Come the competition, no one will even care how strange they are, and I will win the Behemoth.”

  “The competition? That’s what you think this is about?” Mulrox said.

  “I’m not losing to an ogre like you. No matter how gruesome your great-aunt is,” Groxor growled. “Now I don’t know where you got them, but these snot balls are coming with me.”

  Mulrox was too stunned to reply.

  One of the malcognitos floated down from the rest and hovered before Groxor.

  “What’s this?” Groxor asked, glaring at the creature.

  “Death-with-a-kiss,” Yvwi said.

  Groxor’s eyes bulged and then he started to laugh. “That’s the dumbest—”

  Before Mulrox could say a word, Death-with-a-kiss began to hop and shake like a popcorn kernel about to pop. And then with a sudden jerk, she flew as fast as she could and slammed Groxor in the chest.

  Groxor didn’t move, but a cloud of yellow powder flew up into the air.

  Yvwi dove forward and threw Death-with-a-kiss back out of the way, but the momentum thrust him forward and he sailed into the yellow cloud. Yvwi froze. He hung still for a moment and then began to scrunch up into a ball.

  “Ahh… Ahh…”

  Groxor had recovered by now and had brought his face down close to Yvwi’s. “Having some trouble, little bug?” Groxor asked.

  “Ahh CHOOOOOOO!”

  An enormous sneeze rocketed through Yvwi and hit the sneering Groxor full in the face.

  “YUCK!” Groxor yelped, stumbling backward.

  “You disgusting brats! That’s it, Mulrox. You had one last strike and now I’m going to… I’m going to…”

  Groxor’s face slackened. The rage and disgust drained from his face leaving a placid but vacant stare. His hands dropped to his side, and he started to sway back and forth, a crooked smile creeping onto his lips.

  “Yer in fer it now,” Groxor slurred. “I… you…”

  “What’s wrong with him?” Mulrox asked.

  Groxor was stumbling to and fro.

 
; Mulrox smiled. He looked ridiculous. If only the other ogres could see this.

  Yvwi shrugged. “Who cares? Let’s get out of here.”

  A door slammed above them and they heard footsteps. Yahgurkin was standing amidst her sword garden, looking down at them.

  “Mulrox, what’s Groxor doing here?”

  Mulrox glanced behind him. The malcognitos had thankfully retreated to the shadows. He thought about lying, but it wasn’t like she would believe the truth.

  “He was spying on me.” Mulrox said.

  “Spying? Why?”

  “He thinks you and I are up to something.”

  “Isn’t everyone?” she asked. “What’s wrong with him?”

  This wasn’t getting him anywhere. He had to move. “Look, it’s good you came. I need you to keep Geraldine with you for a few more days. I can’t explain now but—”

  “Oh!” Yahgurkin gasped and pointed.

  Groxor teetered at the edge of the hill and then, with a quick sideways movement, fell onto his face and rolled like a log down the grassy slope. They watched as he bounced, dirt and rocks falling after him. When he reached the bottom, he lay still for only a moment before he staggered to his feet and sprinted straight into the Woods Mercurial.

  Mulrox’s mouth fell open. There was nothing more irregular than the Woods Mercurial. Groxor would never be caught dead in the forest.

  Mulrox turned back to Yahgurkin, but she was gone. Probably gone to lock herself in doors as Mulrox wished he could do.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Mulrox asked into the darkness.

  “It’s an improvement, don’t you think?” Yvwi said.

  Groxor could hardly be worse, so he supposed the malcognito was right. But before he could say anything, the door to his hut banged shut.

  “Mulrox!” a voice grumbled.

  Griselda was back. Lights began to flicker on inside of the hut. “Lousy, lollygagging nephew.” He could hear her muttering inside the hut.

  “What’s she up to?” Yvwi tapped Mulrox on the shoulder and pointed.

  Yahgurkin was back on the hill, clothed in her scarf, pouch belt, and necklace of glowing blue mushrooms. Without a glance toward Mulrox, she started down the hill, trailed by a small, hopping figure.