Stiltskin (Andrew Buckley) (23 page)

“Ohzie, Gnomes izit? Never sawz ya down there,” said the Pixie and snickered.

Gnick produced a small dagger from his sleeve but General Gnarly waved him down. “Unless you’d like those wings clipped, you’d better go tell the Historian we’re here.”

“Gnomes iz nasty. Don’t like. Go way.”

“We’re here at the request of the Agency. I’m an Agent. And your Historian knows me well,” said Lily.

“Eazy t’ say youz agent. Arder to prove.”

Lily rolled up her right sleeve to show a tattoo that Robert had never noticed before. An intricate blue dragon with a red eye coiled around her forearm.

“Ahhright,” said the Pixie, “Namez plez.”

“This is General Gnarly and Lieutenant Gnick of the Warrior Gnomes of the Grimm Mountains.”

The Pixie rolled its eyes.

“This is Robert Darkly and I’m Lillian Redcloak.”

This was the first time that Robert had heard Lily’s full name. He repeated the name in his head and something in the back of his mind clicked. Something familiar? A memory? But he couldn’t place it.

The Pixie giggled. “Oh I seez. Whats biznezz you ave with thistorian?”

“We need access to some records.”

“Waitz here. Gnomes don’t cause no problemz, or elsez!”

And with that, the Pixie buzzed off over the castle wall.

The wizard Niggle was beyond what a normal person would constitute a nervous wreck. He’d already tried three times to pour himself tea but he was shaking so badly that the liquid never reached the flower-imprinted cup.
Why hadn’t the Dwarf just let the seven-headed poisonous snake tear me to pieces all those years ago?
 

His fourth pot of tea was now beginning to boil and he used his favorite oven gloves to remove it from the fire. He’d performed the spell that the Dwarf had asked and found what he wanted and told him exactly where he could get it. Rumpelstiltskin hadn’t wasted any time leaving, although he did pause long enough to let Niggle know that if he breathed a word of his visit to anyone that he’d return and perform some nasty things involving a freshly sharpened knife and Niggle’s favorite body parts.

The spell Rumpelstiltskin needed performed was a simple one that Niggle had learned early on in his training. It wasn’t the spell that worried him, but the purpose behind it. Niggle did not know what the Dwarf had been up to the first time that he had performed the spell all those years ago, and he still had no idea. Part of him thought that he was much safer not knowing what was going on, but part of him, that little tiny obscure piece of him that wasn’t a nervous wreck, was full of confidence, and had amazing control over his immense power, wondered what it was all about.

He shakily carried the kettle to a large oak table that was mostly covered in books, scrolls, and half-burnt candles. He set his teacup on the table and lifted the kettle carefully. All his concentration was focused on getting the tea into the teacup. The hot liquid shifted in the kettle as he tipped it and the first droplets appeared at the end of the spout…

The front door was suddenly kicked open with a loud
thump
. Niggle’s entire body twitched in one massive spasm of fear and he dropped the metal kettle, spilling hot water all over the floor. He lost momentary control of his bodily functions and piddled himself just a tiny bit.

Jack stood in the doorway, red-faced and out of breath.

“Where’s the Dwarf?”

“I-I-I-I-d-d-d-d-bah-bah-bah,” said Niggle nonsensically.

Jack strode over to the wizard, pushed him into a seat, picked up his flower-imprinted cup and threw it against the wall where it shattered into many flowery pieces. He leaned over the horrified wizard and with a calmly terrifying voice said, “Tell me where Rumpelstiltskin is or I’m going to throw you out of your own window.”

The wizard’s delicate bladder gave up completely and wet his robe.

Robert, Lily, and the Gnomes had been waiting for almost thirty minutes. The Gnomes were carefully eyeing the Pixies, who continued to line the castle walls and chatter and giggle amongst themselves while pointing at the visitors. Lily hadn’t stopped moving since the Pixie had left. She stalked back and forth in front of the door, alternating between glancing at the door and up at the setting sun. Incidentally, the sun was feeling adventurous and was attempting a triple salchow, which most considered impossible without ice skates, but the sun could not be deterred.

Robert slouched against the castle wall, preparing himself for the monster that Lily had described the Historian to be. A werewolf, of all things! He vaguely remembered the tale of the Beast of Gévaudan from Ms Windle’s History class. It was one of the few things any adolescent British schoolboy would remember, as it involved a mysterious creature that was never caught plus the violent murder of many French people. He began to wonder how many other crossovers there had been that simply melted into Othaside’s history books.

“Lily?”

“Yes, Robert,” said Lily, still stalking back and forth.

“Are the authorities in Othaside aware of the existence of Thiside?”

Gnick raised an eyebrow and leaned over to Gnarly. “That was almost a smart question.”

Gnarly nodded in agreement.

Lily stopped stalking. “They used to be,” she said thoughtfully. “I imagine that somewhere in Othaside, some sort of government agency is aware of us. When the Agency was first established, it decided that we should reveal ourselves to the authorities of Othaside. With so many of our geographical locations coinciding with areas of England or Europe, we first spoke with the Director of the British Secret Service. As you can imagine, he was sceptical. The liaison finally had to bring the Director across to Thiside to make him believe.”

“And what happened?”

“He took one look at the White Rabbit and lost control of his mental faculties. After that, it was decided that it was best just to pretend none of it ever happened. I’m sure he reported it somewhere and it’s filed away in an obscure filing cabinet in a forgotten basement.”

“Are there many crossovers from Thiside to Othaside?”

“Not really; we police both sides. It’s easier and more common for an Othasider to trip into Thiside. With the requirement for a passport to go from here to there it’s rare that someone gets across whom we don’t know about.”

Robert wondered who was at the head of the Agency but before he had a chance to ask, the Pixie returned.

“Soz ta keep ya waiting.”

“No, you’re not,” said Gnick.

“No is not,” agreed the Pixie. “Istorian wills see ya now.”

The Pixie waved an oversized hand toward the large wooden door, which slowly creaked open to reveal an overgrown and cracked courtyard, steeped in shadows and hovering Pixies.

Lily walked through the door, followed by Robert. As the Gnomes approached the archway, the Pixie buzzed in front of them and waved a stubby finger.

“Ah, ah, ahhh, no Gnomesez. Youz stay ere.”

General Gnarly waved his hand and produced a dagger from nowhere, causing the Pixies within the courtyard to hiss.

“It’s okay, General,” said Lily, “we won’t be long. And if we’re not out before sunset, feel free to kill the Pixies and storm the castle.”

General Gnarly smiled a half-smile and bowed slightly before hiding his dagger back in his sleeve. The door creaked closed and Lily continued walking. The Pixies, and there must have been at least two hundred, hovered out of the way to allow them through. Robert wondered how they could tell each other apart, as they all looked the same.

The courtyard looked like it used to circle the entire castle but as parts of the castle and wall had fallen to ruin. It was now blocked on either side and overgrown with grass and climbing ivy.

Two large, wooden, double doors rose up before them nestled into the dark stone of the castle wall. As they came closer, several Pixies flew against the door and with great difficulty pushed it open. It was dark within, but Lily walked with purpose as if she could see just fine. Robert stumbled with less purpose and not an ounce of grace, as he couldn’t see anything. There were slits cut into the rock wall high above them but the sun was no longer at the right angle to allow the light to enter.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he made out a large stone room with no doors and a long, stone staircase that went down. The only reason he could make out that the staircase went down was because a light was slowly making its way up the steps. The silhouette holding the light was short but stocky, walked with a slight limp, and grunted every third step.

The figure held a candlestick, and as he reached the top of the stairs, Robert could see that he was a lot bigger than originally thought. His limp and stooped frame made him look small but Robert could clearly see that the Historian was not a small person, although it seemed as if his nine hundred years were taking their toll.

The man stopped short of Lily and Robert, raised his candlestick, and squinted at them.

“Hello, Lillian,” he said in a gruff voice that sounded harsh and cold. His face was hard and chiselled, with shaggy grey stubble that was separated down one side of his face by a long scar that ran from his temple to beneath his chin. One eye was white with cataracts, while the other eye was bright amber.

“Hello, Bzou,” said Lily.

Robert noted that she seemed tense all over. If she had hackles, they’d be up.

“I never thought I’d see you again. It’s been a very long time. You’ve grown some,” said the Historian.

“I didn’t want to come.”

The Historian barked a laugh. “I’ll bet you didn’t. Who’s your friend?”

“This is Robert. He’s an Othasider and he’s helping with an investigation.”

Robert opened his mouth to say
hi
but other than a quick once-over, the Historian continued speaking to Lily.

“And why did you come here? I know it must have been difficult, so it must be important.”

“We need access to any records you have pertaining to the Dwarf, Rumpelstiltskin.”

The Historian looked hard at Lily.

“Come with me.” The old man turned and started to head back down the stairs.

Lily reached out for Robert’s hand and led him down the stairs. Robert was taken aback by the contact and thought maybe she was just assuming it was too dark for him, but her grip was so tight that he knew she was actually looking to him for support. This worried Robert for several different reasons as, for one, he wasn’t very good at supporting people, even himself, and two, his feelings for Lily seemed to be on a yo-yo depending on her mood. She was weird and quirky, mysterious and beautiful, ridiculously strong…

“Beautiful,” added the voice in Robert’s head.

Got that already.

“Oh, sorry, wasn’t fully listening,” said the voice.

Over the last twenty-four hours, he’d definitely developed a feeling for her, maybe multiple feelings. But he’d felt extremely let down when she hadn’t believed him about the cat and then again when she and Gnarly had been speaking behind his back in the forest.

His thought process jarred when they reached the bottom of the staircase, which he now realized had been very long. They must be quite a ways beneath the surface, which made sense if, as Lily said, the archives stretched back into the mountain.

The staircase opened out into a long hallway that led to a doorway at the far end. A bright light shone from the door and from the flickering, Robert assumed that the room was lit by firelight. The farther they walked, the harder Lily gripped his hand. He began wondering how long before he lost feeling in his fingers.

Despite the limp and his age, the Historian had no problem taking long strides ahead of them. Robert could now see that his grey hair was shabby and hung just beneath his shoulders. He wore a red robe, dark pants, and black boots.

When they reached the doorway, the cold feeling of the castle changed considerably. The room was large and warm and looked like it belonged in a stately home. A hearth burned brightly in the centre of the far wall. The furniture looked like it was covered with velvet, and all the tables and chairs were carved from wood and featured clawed feet. Bookshelves surrounded the rooms from floor to ceiling. Papers and scrolls spread across numerous tables. Another large door was set into the wall to the far right and Robert could see that the hallway beyond was lit by wall-mounted candles that stretched far into the distance, out of sight.