The Doormaster's Apprentice
Page 33
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Belinda met them all for breakfast the next morning. Lumba reluctantly acknowledged that Liam might be a proper escort for Belinda. He sent them off after a huge breakfast.
Belinda said goodbye at the top of the lift. They passed through the bakery door. Then spent the morning telling Drindle about Alabaster’s treachery while depleting the baker's supply of scones.
“I knew there was something vile about that room and those noxious green bottles,” Drindle said. “I’ve just been too busy. But now it’s time to resolve this matter.” He got up and rummaged through a cupboard. “Ah, here it is,” he said, dragging out an odd shaped bundle.
Liam watched with interest as Drindle unwrapped several old swords. He handed one to Ogden. The Doormaster checked the edge with his thumb and nodded to Drindle. “Just like old times.”
Liam accepted one of the old swords, but hoped he wouldn’t have a use for it. Mica and Willow still had their weapons from the castle.
Drindle picked up the last sword and took a few practice swings. His long arms flailed as the blade cut through the air. His pointy elbows and boney fingers made him look more like a scarecrow harvesting wheat than a warrior ready for battle.
“I think we’re ready now,” Drindle said. “He plucked a folded parchment from the shelf and handed it to Liam. “Here’s our map. I’ll lead. You call out the turns.” With that he led the way through the door into the potion room.
Liam unfolded the map, turning it first one way and then the other. Drindle’s cryptic notations made no more sense now than they had the first time he had seen them. So he trotted along behind the baker who fortunately didn’t ask for his help.
They turned a corner and the stone arch suddenly appeared. There was no mistaking the faces carved into the age blackened stone. But behind the arch lay a wall of rubble.
Liam bent over and picked up a piece of broken stone from the blocked arch. “I would not have thought the blast was strong enough to destroy the room and passageway.”
Drindle kicked a small piece with his boot. “I don’t think this was done by an explosion. It’s too thorough a job.”
“Who then?” Liam asked.
“My guess would be the tommyknockers have taken care of the problem for us,” the Doormaster said.
“Tommyknockers?” Mica asked.
“The potion room caretakers,” the Doormaster explained. “It would seem they have had their fill of Alabaster’s wicked tampering.”
Willow examined the blockage then looked at the Doormaster. “Is there a possibility the wizard survived?”
“No way of telling without removing all this rock. But I’m confident the tommyknockers would not allow him free access to the potion room.”
“I’ll have to travel home to report this to my king,” Willow said. She turned to Mica. “I would like you to accompany me this time.” She reached out to take his hand. “It will be an opportunity for you to meet my parents.”
“I’ll need another trip to the tailor,” Mica said.
Everyone laughed and Mica blushed.
Liam was happy to send the sword home with Drindle. He was happier still to step through the door to the spell room later that afternoon.
The house seemed unusually quiet as the party made their way upstairs. Every thing was spotless as if an army of cleaners had been busy for a week.
Hodekin came shuffling down the stairs, his hair a mess, his eyes half closed. Liam stared. It was the first time he had seen the little kobald without his hat.
The Doormaster said, “Hodekin! Is everything well?”
Hodekin looked up, his eyes still blurry and red from his revelry. “I’ll survive, sir. But two days is far too long for a proper party to last.”
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To Steven and Margaret whose tides of encouragement washed away the sands of procrastination and self doubt and allowed this story to be completed.
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Thank you for reading this book.
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Thank you,
Zerelda's Children