Too Many Curses (9 page)

And the sword waited.

Margle's armory was more of a museum really. The wizard had little use for swords or spears, armor or shields, but he'd always enjoyed collecting for its own sake. His collection of weapons was most impressive, housed in its own wing along with his treasure horde and the hall of art. It was too much for even dedicated Nessy to keep polished. For this, Margle had drafted a silver gnome.

His name was Gnick, and he wasn't cursed. Not technically. But like every silver gnome, he was obligated to help any host who served him a bit of bread, a glass of wine, and a bed of straw. In return for this pittance, he was compelled to polish and polish and polish. Such was the code of every silver gnome. He could only receive his wages, meager as they were, when he'd finished. And he was never finished because it would've taken a hundred industrious gnomes to get every weapon, every piece of armor, every shield, to shine at once. So Gnick's bread had turned to mold on its plate. His wine was vinegar. And his straw was undisturbed. And
Gnick, who never ate, never drank, and never slept, only polished, was in a very, very ill mood.

When Nessy, Sir Thedeus, and the nurgax arrived at the armory, Gnick was absorbed in buffing a piece of tarnished armor. She greeted him with a pleasant hello, but he was too busy to reply. Although he did glare.

It was her policy to be courteous to all the castle's inhabitants, no matter how irritable. They mostly had good excuses. She politely waited for him to finish with the armor and then asked for directions before he started on the lance beside it.

"Excuse me, but is the Sword in the Cabbage still to the left? Or has Margle moved it again?"

Gnick spat on the lance. Nothing brought shine to steel like gnome spit. "No. Still left."

"Thank you."

Before she could take a step, Gnick jumped in her path.

"You won't be touching anything, will you?"

"Just the Sword in the Cabbage."

Gnick glowered and did his best to appear threatening. But as he was very thin, very tired, and about a foot shorter than her, it came across as merely irksome. Like all faeries, he was immortal, but decades of uninterrupted work, no meals, no rest, had taken their toll. He'd lost his gnomish plumpness and the spring in his beard.

"Why don't you go and rub your oily fingers over all the blades while you're at it?" Gnick grumbled. "Might as well, seeing as how you'll be shedding all over the place too. The
last time you were here, I kept finding hairs floating about for weeks."

Nessy thought his consternation a touch misdirected. While she might shed a little, she failed to see the harm. Gnick's task was an endless one, and a smudge here and a hair there couldn't make the duty any more everlasting. But she set aside such reasoning, knowing full well his mood had nothing to do with her.

Sir Thedeus was less polite. "Stand aside, ye imp. We've important matters to attend to."

"And you, you little flying furball, if I find even a single dropping in my armory I'll—"

"I dunna leave droppings." The bat leaned forward on Nessy's shoulder. "I have never ever dropped. Although in this case, I might be willing to make an exception."

Gnick pushed back his pointed hat. "You wouldn't dare."

"Oh I dunna know. I had a mango this morning. Never agree well with me, those mangos." He grinned, baring his tiny fangs.

Nessy stepped in. "I promise we won't touch anything besides the Sword in the Cabbage, and I'll do my best to limit my shedding."

"And the bat?"

"Ach, all right. Not a drop. Ye have me word as a gentleman."

Gnick snarled. Nessy suspected he questioned Sir Thedeus's gentlemanly qualifications, but he thankfully kept this to himself. "And what about that thing?"

"The nurgax will behave itself."

Whether or not he believed her, he relented. They didn't truly need his permission, but Nessy was still glad to have it. Gnick followed them, his busy eyes scanning for tarnishes, pausing every few feet to spit and rub flaws imperceptible to anyone else.

They passed through a corridor lined with armor of all sizes and shapes. Some were so strange, having sleeves for dozens of arms, holes for wings or tails, helmets made to protect oddly-shaped heads, that Nessy couldn't imagine what creatures might wear them. Margle had a full suit of enchanted chain mail that had once belonged to a dragon czar. Three kobolds could fit into one of the gauntlets. Whenever Nessy looked at it, she was reminded that no matter how great and powerful anyone might be, they would always take steps to deny their vulnerability. And in doing so, allowed it to show even more.

Though the dragon armor was one of Margle's most prominent possessions, his greatest prize in the entire armory was the Sword in the Cabbage. Over the years, as he'd attempted to unlock its secrets, the enchanted sword had retaliated. Each unsuccessful effort on Margle's part only made the cabbage larger, leafier, and greener. It was now fifteen feet around at the very least.

"It's bigger than I remember," she remarked.

"Grew another three feet after Margle's last try," said Gnick.

Nessy climbed the stairs beside the cabbage and studied
the sword. Gold, silver, and platinum traced delicate swirls along its hilt. The blade gleamed and cast reflections as clear as a mirror. It was a fine weapon. Even Nessy, who knew very little of weapons, could see that. But it was too large for her. She couldn't see herself wielding it effectively, even if she'd been properly trained. But the demon had said she could figure it out.

"Go on, lass," said Sir Thedeus. "See if ye can draw it."

She wrapped her fingers around the handle and pulled. The sword didn't budge.

"Try pulling harder, lass."

She climbed onto the cabbage and with both hands tightly clutching the sword, pushed with her legs while straining her shoulders.

"It's no use. It's stuck."

As soon as she let go, Gnick began polishing the handle. "I could've told you that. If Margle couldn't free it, I don't know what chance you've got."

"Maybe ye need to say some magic words," said Sir Thedeus.

"Unlikely," remarked Gnick. "Margle spent hours shouting incantations until his voice went. He shook the walls and rattled the armor, but the cabbage just grew larger. Dreadful amounts of dust to clean. Took me months to get it all out of the air."

"But the demon said ye could use it, dinna she?" asked Sir Thedeus.

"No. She said I could figure out how to use it."

"Well, what's that mean?"

"I don't know."

Sir Thedeus snorted. "That's a fine piece of advice. Says ye can use it, but dunna say how. If that's how a demon is helpful, no wonder no one likes them." Sir Thedeus snorted. "I would'na be surprised if she was lying."

An unfamiliar voice spoke up. "No. It wasn't lying."

"Echo, is that ye?"

"No. It's me." The Sword in the Cabbage glowed lightly.

"Ye can talk?"

Sir Thedeus's shock was odd to Nessy. Didn't many things in Margle's castle talk?

"I'd be a poor magic sword if I couldn't," said the weapon.

"Hold on," said Gnick. "I've never heard you speak before."

"I don't speak to dark wizards. Except perhaps when I'm spearing them through their black hearts. Then I might say something along the lines of 'How do you like having your black heart pierced? Not very much fun, I'll wager.' " The sword chuckled. "Not very clever, I'll admit, but you'd be amazed how much pithier it sounds when you're running through an evil wizard."

"Pardon me," said Nessy, "but I was told by a demon that I could put you to use somehow."

"Then it must be true because demons can't lie."

"Canna lie?" Sir Thedeus frowned. His pointed ears twitched. "But they're demons. They're creatures of evil and deceit."

"Without a doubt, but they are also bound by certain supernatural laws. While they are deceptive creatures, they can't lie outright."

"That's true," agreed Gnick.

"And why shouldn't it be? I was made for demon slaying. I know of what I speak. So if you were sent to me by a demon, there must be some truth in it." The sword's light faded. "Although, I do confess some distaste at the referral."

"Maybe ye should try again, Nessy."

"I wouldn't bother. Only a hero can draw me from this vegetable."

The blade radiated a brilliant light. Nessy shaded her eyes but discovered it wasn't necessary. The brightness wasn't blinding.

"I shall awaken when a hero of honor and courage, strong of limb, skilled in combat, abhorrent of evil in all its forms takes me in his hand. And not before. As I have all who have touched me, I have taken stock of your qualifications. You've a good character, miss. I find no fault in your honor or your courage, but strong of limb, skilled in combat, you most certainly are not. And while I detect a strong distaste for both impoliteness and cruelty, that is simply not enough. You are denied. Please take no offense. I must hold to very high standards."

"Understandable." Nessy paced atop the giant cabbage, circling the sword. "So if a hero does take hold of you, you would be able to help us?"

"Find a hero for me, and I would relish commencing my noble duty once again."

Nessy sat at the top of the stairs and considered the puzzle while Gnick polished the Sword in the Cabbage and Sir Thedeus nibbled on the leaves. She petted the nurgax while contemplating.

She was very good at puzzles, due in no small part to her orderly nature. All riddles were merely the arrangement of things so that they fit together in the only logical way. The sword needed a hero. The castle was full of heroes, albeit all burdened by curses. But perhaps this didn't matter.

"Sir Thedeus, you should try drawing the sword."

The bat gulped down a bite of cabbage. "Me, lass?"

"Him?" Gnick laughed. "He's no hero."

"I am too." Sir Thedeus snarled. "Or I was before that damned wizard transformed me into this rodent form."

"Bats aren't rodents."

"I'm small. I'm furry. I live off scraps. That makes me a rodent, no matter what the scholars say. But the misshapen imp is right. I'm not a hero anymore." His head drooped. There was a hint of a tear in his eye. This convinced Nessy that she just might be right. Bats couldn't shed a tear. Possibly Margle's curse had only obscured the hero within, not obliterated it completely.

She scooped Sir Thedeus up. "I know you're both courageous and honorable. And you're certainly abhorrent of evil."

"Aye. But I'm not strong of limb, nor skilled in combat."

"Just because you can't hold a weapon anymore doesn't take away the skill. It's still within you."

Gnick rubbed his tired eyes and yawned. "But he's puny. He couldn't even lift the sword if it were free."

"Strength isn't found in being the strongest of all, but the strongest you can be." Nessy looked Sir Thedeus in his beady eyes. "And, bat or not, you slew Margle, didn't you?"

"Not really. Ye were there, lass. Ye saw it. He slipped. 'Twas an accident."

"You don't give yourself enough credit. Even if luck played a part, it wouldn't have happened without you. I'd be in the nurgax's belly if not for you."

The Sword in the Cabbage remarked, "That is most impressive. I think you should give it a go. I make no guarantees though."

Sir Thedeus hesitated. His doubt was evident. As was his fear. If he failed to draw the sword, it could only mean two things. Either his curse had taken away his heroic status or, worse, he wasn't the hero he once was, or perhaps had never been. It was a fearful trial. Sir Thedeus, like all the castle's accursed heroes, had little left of value but his memories. Nessy couldn't imagine anything more awful for him
than being rejected by the Sword in the Cabbage. It might be a blow from which he would never recover. She couldn't blame him for not wanting to know. Not for certain.

"You don't have to. Not if you don't want to."

"Of course he doesn't want to," said Gnick. "The windbag knows he'll only make a fool of himself."

Nessy's distaste for discourtesy flared. "Shut up, Gnick. Go polish something if you've nothing constructive to offer."

Gnick grumbled.

The nurgax barked. Sir Thedeus's eyes widened. He'd never seen Nessy lose her temper like that. It reminded him that there were more important things than pride. He gritted his teeth and stuck out his jaw.

"Put me on the sword."

She smiled gently. "No matter what, you are a hero."

"So are ye, lass." He stretched out his wings toward the weapon. "Now let me draw this blade and get rid of that hound before it eats any more of me friends." He climbed onto the hilt.

"At last!" exclaimed the Sword. "I was beginning to think it would be another thousand years before I was free of this ridiculous cabbage!"

In a flash of light, Sir Thedeus transformed from his tiny bat form into a tall, brawny, naked man. Nessy guessed he was handsome by human standards, but this was mostly assumption. Personally, she found their bald, lanky bodies absurd. The occasional tuft of fur here and there was particularly comical.

He drew the sword and held it high. "Me curse is broken. I'm a man again!"

"Loath as I am to admit this," said the sword, "I haven't so much broken your curse as paused it. I'm afraid it's not permanent."

"How long do I have?"

"Another minute or two." The sword grunted as if carrying a heavy weight. "It's the best I can do."

Sir Thedeus lowered the blade with a frown. "And then what? I'm a bat again?"

"Afraid so. But only until I build my strength up again. Then I can make you a man." The weapon trembled in his hand. "For at least another minute or two."

Before Nessy could begin thinking of solutions to this latest development, the castle bells tolled. It was a sound she'd heard only once before, and she didn't recognize it right away.

"That's the entrance bells." Her ears cocked forward.

"Impossible," said Gnick.

Nessy had little interest in debating what was obviously true. The gongs were ringing.

A puff of red-and-yellow smoke engulfed Sir Thedeus, and he transformed back into a bat. The sword halted its fall, oriented its point downward, and drove itself deep into the giant cabbage.