by Brandon Mull
Page 22
Be careful, Grandma said. Don't think about the height.
I know you're trying to help, Seth said. But please stop talking.
Grandma came and stood by Kendra. Can he do this?
she whispered.
He has a good chance. He's really brave, and pretty athletic. The height might not get to him. I would freak out.
Kendra wanted to look away. She did not want to see him fall. But she could not take her eyes from her brother as he leapfrogged from log to log, higher and higher. As he jumped to the thirteenth, almost forty feet high now, he leaned precariously to one side. Chills raced through Kendra as if she were the one losing her balance. Seth gripped with his legs and leaned the other way, regaining his equilibrium. Kendra could breathe again.
Chapter Twenty
Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen. Kendra glanced at Grandma.
He was going to make it! Seventeen. He got to his feet, wobbling a bit, hands out to either side. These tall ones shake a little, he called down.
Seth leapfrogged to the next log and landed awkwardly, teetering too far to one side. For a moment he hovered on the brink of regaining his balance. Every muscle in Kendra's body clenched in horror. Arms pinwheeling, Seth fell. Kendra shrieked. She could not look away.
Something flashed from the ledge-a slender, black chain with a metal weight at the end. The chain coiled around one of Seth's legs. Instead of falling to the ground, he swung into the cliff, colliding roughly with the stone wall.
For the first time Kendra had a view of Nero. Built like a man, the troll had reptilian features. A few bright yellow markings decorated his glossy black body. He held in a webbed hand the chain from which Seth dangled. Muscles bunching powerfully, Nero hauled Seth up to the ledge.
They passed out of sight, and then a rope ladder unfurled from the ledge, unwinding all the way to the base of the cliff.
Are you okay? Kendra yelled up at Seth.
I'm fine, he answered. Just had the wind knocked out of me.
Grandma started up the ladder. Kendra followed, forcing herself to focus on grabbing the next rung, denying the impulse to look down. At length she reached the ledge.
She moved to the rear of the ledge, standing beside the low mouth of a dark cave from which wafted a cool draft.
Nero looked even more intimidating up close. Tiny, sleek scales covered his sinuous body. Though he was not much taller than Grandma, the thickness of his brawny physique made him seem massive. He had a snout rather than a nose, and bulging eyes that never blinked. A row of sharp spines ran from the center of his forehead to the small of his back.
Thank you for rescuing Seth, Grandma said.
I told myself, if the boy makes it past fifteen logs, I will assist him if he falls. I admit that I am curious to hear what you would exchange to learn the location of your husband.
His voice was suave and rich.
Tell us what you have in mind, Grandma said.
A long, gray tongue popped out of his mouth and licked his right eye. You would have me speak first? So be it. I do not ask much, an insignificant trifle for the proprietress of this illustrious preserve. Six coffers of gold, twelve puncheons of silver, three casks of uncut gems, and a bucket of opals.
Kendra looked at Grandma. Could she possibly own that much treasure?
A reasonable sum, Grandma said. Unfortunately, we have brought no such riches with us.
I can wait while you retrieve the payment, if you leave the girl as collateral.
Regrettably we lack the time to shuttle treasure to you, unless you would reveal Stan's location before receiving compensation.
Nero licked his left eye and grinned, a hideous sight that displayed double rows of needle teeth. I must be paid in full before fulfilling your request.
Grandma folded her arms. I take it you already possess great caches of treasure. It surprises me that such a meager financial offering as I could supply would entice you to trade.
Go on, he said.
You are offering us a service. Perhaps we should repay you with a service as well.
Nero nodded thoughtfully. Possible. The boy has some spirit. Indenture him to me for fifty years.
Seth looked desperately at Grandma.
Grandma frowned. I hope to leave the possibility of future business open, therefore I do not wish to leave you feeling slighted. The boy has spirit, but little ability. You would assume the burden of training him as a servant, and find yourself yoked to his incompetence. You would add more value to his life through education than he would to yours through service.
Your candor is appreciated, Nero said, although you have much to learn about bargaining. I begin to wonder whether you have anything of value to offer. If not, our discussion will not end well.
You speak of value, Grandma said. I ask, what value is treasure to a wealthy troll? The more riches he possesses, the less each new acquisition improves his total worth. A bar of gold means much more to a pauper than to a king. I also question what value a frail human servant would have to a master infinitely more wise and capable? Consider the situation.
We want you to render a service of value to us, something we cannot do for ourselves. You should expect no less.
I agree. Take care. Your words are spreading a net at your feet. A lethal edge was creeping into his voice.
True, unless I am trained to deliver a service of extraordinary value. Have you ever received a massage?
Are you serious? The idea has always struck me as ridiculous.
The idea seems absurd to all the uninitiated. Beware of rash judgments. We all pursue wealth, and those who gather the most can afford certain comforts unavailable to the masses. Foremost among these luxuries is the indescribable release and relaxation of a massage at the hands of one skilled in the art.
And you claim to be skilled in this so-called art?
Trained by a true master. My ability is so great as to be nearly beyond purchase. The only person in the world who has received a full massage at my hands is the caretaker himself, and this because I am his woman. I could give you a full massage, kneading and soothing every muscle in your body. The experience would redefine your understanding of pleasure.
Nero shook his head. It will take more than florid words and grandiose promises to persuade me.
Consider my offer in perspective, Grandma said.
People pay exorbitant sums for an expert massage. You will receive yours at no cost, merely in exchange for a service.
How long would it take you to ascertain Stan's location?
A few moments.
A massage will take me thirty grueling minutes. And you will be experiencing something new, a delight you have never encountered in all your long years. A similar opportunity may never arise again.
Nero licked an eye. Granted, I have never received a massage. I could name many things I have never done, mainly because I have no interest in doing them. I have sampled human food and found it wanting. I am not convinced that I will find a massage as satisfying as you describe.
Grandma studied him. Three minutes. I will give you a sample for three minutes. It will afford you only a narrow glimpse of the unspeakable bliss that awaits, but should place you in a position to make a more educated decision.
Very well. I see no harm in a demonstration.
Give me your hand.
My hand?
I will massage a single hand. You will have to use your imagination to envision how this would feel across your entire body.
He held out a hand. Grandma Sorenson took it and began working his palm with her thumbs. At first he tried to keep a straight face, but his mouth began to twitch, and his eyes began to roll. How is that? Grandma asked. Too deep?
His meager lips quivered. Just right, he purred.
Grandma continued expertly rubbing his palm and the back of his hand. He started licking his eyes compulsively
.
She finished with his fingers. The demonstration is concluded, she announced.
Thirty minutes of that, you say, across my whole body?
The children will assist me, Grandma said. We will trade a service for a service.
But I could exchange my service for something more enduring! For treasure! A single massage is too fleeting.
The law of diminishing returns applies to massages, as it does to most things. The first is the best, and all you really need. Besides, you can always exchange your services for treasure. This may be your only chance to receive an expert massage.
He held out his other hand. One more example, to help me decide.
No more samples.
You offer just one massage? What if you stay on as my personal masseuse for twelve years?
Grandma grew stern. I am not petitioning you to look in that stone of yours multiple times for multiple purposes.
I am requesting a single piece of information. A service for a service. That is my offer, lopsided in your favor. The massage takes thirty minutes, versus mere moments for you to peer into your stone.
But you need the information, Nero reminded her. I do not need a massage.
Satisfying needs is the burden of the poor. The wealthy and powerful can afford to indulge their wants and whims. If you pass on this opportunity, you will always wonder what you missed.
Don't do it, Grandma, Kendra said. Just give him the treasure.
Nero held up a finger. This proposition is unorthodox, and against my better judgment, but the idea of a massage intrigues me, and I am rarely intrigued. However, thirty minutes is too short. Say. . . two hours.
Sixty minutes, Grandma said flatly.
Ninety, Nero countered.
Grandma wrung her hands. She folded and unfolded her arms. She rubbed her brow.
Ninety minutes is too long, Kendra said. You've never given Grandpa a massage longer than an hour!
Hold your tongue, child, Grandma snapped.
Ninety or no deal, Nero said.
Grandma sighed in resignation. All right. . . ninety minutes.
Very well, I accept. But if I do not approve of the entire massage, the deal is off.
Grandma shook her head. No caveats. A single ninety-minute massage in exchange for the location of Stan Sorenson. You will treasure the memory until the end of your days.
Nero eyed Kendra and Seth before fixing Grandma with a shrewd gaze. Agreed. How do we proceed?
The best table Grandma could find was a fairly narrow stone shelf near the mouth of the cave. Nero stretched out on the shelf, and Grandma showed Kendra and Seth how to massage his legs and feet. She demonstrated how and where to use their knuckles and the heels of their hands.
He's very strong, she said, grinding her knuckles against the bottom of his foot. Lean into it as much as you want. She set down his leg and stood beside his head.
The children have their instructions, Nero. The ninety minutes start now.
Kendra hesitantly laid her hands on the troll's bulging calf. Although they were not wet, the scales felt slimy. She had held a snake before, and the texture of Nero's scaly skin was quite similar.
With Nero lying prone, Grandma went to work on the back of his neck and shoulders. She employed a variety of techniques-probing with her thumbs, rubbing with her palms, pressing with her fists, digging with her elbows. She ended up kneeling on the small of his back, careful to avoid the spikes along his spine, squeezing and kneading and applying pressure in diverse ways.
Nero was obviously in ecstasy. He purred and moaned in decadent satisfaction. A constant stream of drowsy compliments flowed from his lips. He languidly encouraged them to rub harder and deeper.
Kendra grew weary, and Grandma periodically demonstrated other techniques for her and Seth to employ.
Kendra despised working on Nero's feet the most, from the roughness of his cracked heels, to the smooth pads of his calluses, to the lumpy bunions on his toes. But she tried her best to follow Grandma's tireless example. Besides assisting with his legs and feet, Grandma labored on his head, neck, shoulders, back, arms, hands, chest, and abdomen.
When they finally finished, Nero sat up with a euphoric smile. All the cunning had vanished from his bulbous eyes. He looked ready for the most satisfying nap of his life.
Closer to a hundred minutes, Grandma said. But I wanted to do it right.
Thank you, he said giddily. I never imagined something like that. He got to his feet, leaning against the wall of the cliff to steady himself. You have amply earned your reward.
I've never felt anyone so full of knots and tension, Grandma said.
I feel loose now, he said, swinging his arms. I will be right back with the information you seek. Nero ducked into the cave.
I want to see his magic stone, Seth mumbled.
Wait patiently, Grandma chided, wiping perspiration from her brow.
You must be exhausted, Kendra said.
I'm not in very good condition, Grandma admitted.
That took a lot out of me. She lowered her voice. But it sure beats barrels of treasure that we don't have.
Seth wandered over to the brink of the ledge and stared down into the ravine. Grandma took a seat on the shelf where they had administered the massage, and Kendra waited beside her.
Before long, Nero emerged. He still looked affable and relaxed, though not quite as loopy as before. Stan is chained in the basement of the Forgotten Chapel.
Grandma's jaw tightened. You're sure?
It was a little tricky finding him and sneaking a good look, considering who else is confined there, but yes, I am certain.
He's well?
He's alive.
Lena was with him?
The naiad? Sure, I saw her too.
Was Muriel in the vicinity?
Muriel? Why would she. . . oh, that's what that was!
Ruth, the agreement was for a single piece of information.
But no, I didn't catch sight of her. I believe this concludes our arrangement. He gestured toward the ladder. If you will excuse me, I need to lie down.
The Far Side of the Attic Grandma refused to talk while they were in the ravine.
She wore a dour, thoughtful expression and hushed any attempts at conversation. Kendra waited until they were back on the path beside the covered bridge to try her question again.
Grandma- Kendra began.
Not here, Grandma admonished. We must not discuss the situation out in the open. She motioned for them to huddle close and continued in a hushed tone. Let this suffice. We must go after your grandpa today. Tomorrow might be too late. We will return home immediately, get equipped, and go to the place where he is being held. I will reveal his exact whereabouts once we are indoors. Muriel may not yet know his location, and even if she does, I don't want her to learn that we know.
