Heaven Cent (16 page)

That gave him the necessary notion. They had come for the Dragon's gems; he was here to guard them. But he and the bats were not the only guardians.

He stopped and grabbed a handful of gems. “Goblins!” he cried. “Do you want these stones? You can't have them. Remove your ladders, or I'll throw them away!” He held the gems in his left bone hand; with his right bone fingers he took a glittering diamond, and cocked his arm, ready to throw.

The goblins paused. The diamond sparkled in the torchlight. There was a silence.

Then the chief spoke. “He's bluffing! That stone would only land on the floor. If it doesn't break, we'll get it anyway. Ignore him!”

Immediately the action resumed. Goblins climbed the ladder, and the ones manning the sling readied another skull.

Marrow hurled the diamond across the cave. It flew in a glinting arc over the heads of the goblins, and splashed in the pool. The goblins stared, stunned.

“It didn't break,” Marrow called. “But you can't get it! What do you think of that, frog-mouth?” He punctuated his jibe with a bit of finger magic.

“Get that gem!” the chief screamed, infuriated for no good reason.

Immediately three sturdy goblins dived into the water, going after the sinking stone. But in a moment there was a violent commotion. The three reversed their strokes and almost sailed out of the pool.

“What's this?” the chief cried. “Why did you quit?”

The three opened their mouths. “Yeow!” they cried as one.

Now their problem could be seen. To each posterior was attached the sharp teeth of a piranha. In a moment the fish dropped off, splashing back into the water, but the point had been made. What entered the water was not accessible.

“How's that bite you, sludge-snoot?” Brick Bat chittered from above. Unfortunately the goblins did not understand him; only Marrow could pick up on animal languages, because of his experience in the gourd. The gourd related to the thoughts of every creature, so its denizens had to understand those thoughts.

The chief considered. “But he can't throw them all in the drink,” he said. “Swarm over him, grab the stones!”

Motion resumed. Marrow threw a fat gray pearl into the pool, then a topaz, but the goblins didn't stop. He hurled the rest of his handful, and picked up another. His left hand worked ineffectively because of the missing forefinger, but he could use it to help scoop up the gems.

A goblin head showed over the edge of the nest. Marrow charged it and shoved it back by brute force. The ladder toppled, to the screams of the goblins on it. Then he threw more stones into the pool. But he could see that there were far too many gems to dispose of this way in the time he had; the goblins would soon overwhelm him and get the main part of the treasure.

“Bats!” he cried. “Swoop in, grab the stones, dump them in the pool where the fish can guard them! Quick, before the goblins get them.”

“Do it!” Brick Bat chittered. The entire swarm of bats swooped down, each picking up what gems its feet could hold and flying away toward the water.

The angry goblins on the ladders tried to grab at the bats, but received only facefulls of guano for their trouble. The stones were rapidly disappearing.

Marrow was meanwhile hurling gems as fast as he could. Suddenly he paused: he had just picked up the two firewater opals. Should he throw these too? It seemed a shame.

Then a goblin tackled him, and he fell back, unable to throw. Marrow did the only thing he could think of: he swallowed the stones. They popped into his head and rattled around inside his skull, where the goblins could not get at them.

“Kick that skeleton out of there!” the chief called. “Use the torches to burn off the bats! We've got the rest of the rocks!”

A goblin charged across the nest and delivered a tremendous boot to Marrow's hipbone. “Ow!” yelled the goblin, dancing around. “I broke my foot!”

But Marrow was already flying apart. He thought fast: what shape should he assume as he landed? He would not be able to reach the nest again, and in any event most of the gems were gone; the goblins would have to dredge the pool to get the best ones. Surely they would do that, so—

He landed as a rigid grid of bones, with his skull in the center and his hands and feet at the corners. He bounced on the stone, and clonked the hard heads of a couple of the goblins who happened to be in the way. The collision hurt neither him nor the goblins' heads; both were mostly bone.

“Bats!” his skull called, “Haul me into the water!”

“What for?” Brick asked.

“I'm going to be a grid guarding the bottom,” he replied. “The fish will swim through me, but the goblins are too big.”

“Gotcha!” Brick agreed. Under his direction, hundreds of bats came down and latched on to the bones. They lifted him up and over the water, where they dropped him with a splash.

“Take a break!” Marrow called just before his skull sank. “Rest, because burble blub bloop!” Too late; his skull was under the water. Magic was great for speaking, but there were limits.

The bottom of the pool was as sculptured as the upper part of the cavern. Teethlike stalagmites rose from below, and the rock curved into potlike depressions. Marrow had used the stalagmites to pull himself along as they entered.

Now he did the same, grabbing on with his hands and pulling himself into place. Most of the gems should be in one major pothole here; yes, he could see them collected in the bottom. He settled down until his network covered it completely. He was anchored by the stalagmites at the rim.

“And what, if I may ask, art thou up to, misshapen man?” Perrin Piranha inquired, swimming close.

“The goblins are raiding the nest during Draco's absence,” Marrow explained. “I had agreed to guard the nest, but there are too many goblins. So we threw the gems into the water where you could guard them.”

“So much had I gathered enow,” Perrin said. “But thy present configuration amazes me. To what purpose be it?”

“The goblins used armor against the bats. They will do so against you, or will try to trawl for the gems. This will stop them from getting them.”

“Ah, now I fathom thine intent! An the goblins come, we shall guard thy network, till My Lord Dragon return.”

“Good show,” Marrow agreed.

It was not long before the goblins came. First they lowered little baskets on strings, hoping to scoop up gems and haul them to the surface. The fish simply chomped through the strings. Then the goblins donned protective gear complete with crude boots, weighted by cavern stones, and waded into the pool. The fish could not chomp through to tender flesh, hard as they tried. The goblins forged right on down to marrow's grid, and there they stopped. They could see the gems below it; indeed, the fish were picking up the more widely scattered gems and dropping them into this guarded hole. But they could not reach it. They stood on it and tried to lift it up, which was of course futile. Finally they waded back out to the dry pan of the cave, to report to their leader.

“Melikes thy style, skeleton,” Perrin said.

“Let's just hope it suffices,” Marrow responded. “Goblins are determined cusses, though.”

“Sooth, determined,” the fish agreed grimly.

Indeed they were. Soon the goblins came down with grappling hooks, which they hooked on to Marrow's bones.

The lines were too tough for the fish to bite through. Four hooks and lines were attached; then they went taut.

Marrow clung to the stalagmites as hard as he could, but the force was too strong; his grip broke, and he was hauled up and out of the water. Now he saw that the goblins had converted their sling to a pulley, and dozens of them were pulling on the ropes, drawing the grid out.

He was deposited on the dry cave floor. “Now get down there with your baskets and bring those gems up!” the goblin chief directed his minions. “Remember, we don't have all day!”

Was it day, now? That meant that the goblins had been held in check all night. If he could hold them for the day too, the dragon would return. That was what he had to try for.

But now he was in grid form, useless here on dry floor, and he could not change form by himself. What form would be better, and how could he achieve it?

Meanwhile the goblins were busy. They were carrying the remaining gems down from the nest and putting them in a kettle beside the chief. Evidently the chief intended to see that no goblin got away with a private treasure; everything had to be gathered in one place, and then it would all be hauled away. The gems under the water would be brought up and added to that hoard. This would take much longer than the goblins might have planned, thanks to Marrow's efforts, but they already had a fair number with which they might abscond even if the dragon returned this instant. He had to find a way to dump that kettle!

He thought of a form, but the achieving of it was more difficult. What he needed was a good kick in the rear. A kick anywhere would do, in his present form, because he really didn't have a front or rear, just top and bottom sides. The bats couldn't do it; they were too small to have much impact.

Well, the goblins had kicked him before. Maybe he could make them do it again. “Hey, purple-nose, how's tricks?” he called to the nearest goblin.

“What did you call me?” the goblin demanded.

“Purple-nose!” Marrow repeated. “You must have the ugliest, blotchiest snoot in captivity! What do you say to that?”

“Hey, Itchlips!” the goblin called to a fellow. “The skull says I'm the ugliest snoot in captivity!”

“He's a liar!” Itchlips retorted. “I am!”

Oops! They liked the insult! Now what was he to do?

Maybe, if he couldn't insult them, he could make them jealous of each other. “No, you aren't nearly as ugly as he is,” he called to Itchlips. “Compared to him, you are almost cute.”

That scored. “Cute? Cute?!” Itchlips cried. “You empty-headed mess of gristle, what makes you an authority, anyway? You wouldn't know ugly if your bald face was rubbed in it!”

“I’d know it if it kicked me in the tail, though!“ Marrow retorted. ”A pretty boy like you can't kick!"

“Can't kick? Can't kick? I'll show you!” And Itchlips gave him a tremendous kick in the shinbone.

Marrow flew up, delighted. “You're beautiful!” he called in a final sally. Then he landed in his new form.

He was a basket case, finely woven of bones, with the large ones bracing the top and bottom and the small ones between. His skull was on one side, and his hands spaced one and two thirds of the way around its top circle. He was watertight, thanks to his magic.

“Bats!” he called. “Lift me up, take me to the water, scoop up some fish. Can you do that?”

“Of course we can!” Brick said. “We can lift anything, if we can get enough feet on it.” They took bold all around and hefted him up.

“Fish!” Marrow called as he lurched to the water and started to fill. “Come in! Don't let go, bats!”

Perrin and a mass of followers swam into the basket. Then the bats hauled them all up, water and all. The flight was shaky, and the water slopped, but they made it. Marrow realized that they must have some lightening magic, similar to Chem's tail flicks, for the full basket had to weigh much more than the bats did.

“Carry us to that kettle!” Marrow cried. “Dump the fish into it!”

The bats did as directed. The slopping basket swung over to the kettle and tilted.

“What's this?” the goblin chief demanded, looking up. Then he recognized Marrow, in the new form. “You again? I'll fix you!” And he reached up to catch the rim.

“Avast, varlet!” Perrin cried, biting his fingers.

The goblin jerked back so vigorously that he fell into the kettle. Then the basket swung over, tilted, and poured out the water and fish on top of him. Perrin and his crew went to work on the goblin in a chompfest.

“Yeeoouch!!” the goblin screamed. “Get me out of here!”

The other goblins charged over to pull him out, but the piranha snapped at their squat fingers. They were unable to get hold of their leader.

“Dump the kettle!” the chief screamed. “Get the water out!” For he, smarter than the others, realized that the fish could not function well out of the water.

The minions shoved against the kettle, and it tipped over. Goblin, water, fish, and gems flowed out in a soupy mass. The fish continued to bite at whatever anatomy they could find, and the goblin continued to thrash. As a result, most of them slid down the slope and into the pool, where the other fish joined in the fun.

The goblins caught hold of their chief and hauled him out. The fish let go of his arms, legs, rear, and nose and flopped back into the water. By this time most of the gems were back in the pool, and the fish were picking them up by mouth and carrying them to the deepest and most hidden pits.

“Bats!” Marrow cried. “Pick up the kettle, dump it in the water!”

“No!” the chief cried. But the bats swarmed over the kettle, and got hold of it, and hauled it to the pool. It filled with water and sank, and the fish mounted gleeful guard over it.

“I'll get you for that!” the goblin chief yelled at Marrow. “We can't make progress until we get rid of you!”

“Lift me up, get me away from them!” Marrow called to the bats. But the goblins got there first. They laid hands on him, and batted away the bats. Marrow was captive.

“Take him apart!” the goblin directed.

This was bad. If they kicked him, he could fly apart and reform some other way. But if they simply took him apart, he would be helpless until they put him back together.

He tried to hold his form, but the goblins took apart their pulley apparatus and made levers to pry between his bones. He was tough, but not that tough; first they pried his skull loose, and men his other bones. In due course they had him all in pieces.

The chief held up the skull. “What do you say now, bonehead?” he demanded.

“I say you haven't gotten many gems, chomp-nose!” Marrow retorted bravely. The goblin's nose was swollen where the fish had bitten it.

The goblin shook the skull. “But we'll get them now, won't we, scatter-bone? Without your interference, the bats and fish won't be able to stop us.” He shook the skull again. “What's that rattle?”