“Momentarily,” he replied. “I am waiting for someone.”
The host bowed politely and walked back to his podium as Treneth inhaled deeply. His stomach threatened to growl as he saw a tray of sizzling steak and roasted potatoes cross the room. If nothing else, he was in for a decent meal.
A few minutes later Rimpertuz appeared at the door, opening it widely for Councilwoman Muppy. She curtsied and giggled at Treneth’s apprentice. Then she saw Treneth and frowned.
No matter, he thought. I’m just the warm up.
“Madam,” he said, offering his hand.
She leaned backwards, bumping into a delighted Rimpertuz.
Treneth did his best to look injured. “They have been thoroughly washed, I assure you.”
“I’ll pass, Treneth,” Muppy replied. “So this stud...” She coughed lightly. “Student of yours says that you wanted to meet me for dinner.”
“I feel that there has been much negativity between us, and—”
“I’m here and I’m hungry.” She then looked him over carefully. “Is this a date, Treneth?”
Treneth felt his cheeks burning. “No...I mean, well...”
Muppy shrugged.
“Fine with me,” she said. “Just means you’re paying.” She then moved toward the podium. “Dear boy,” she said to the host, “how is your mom faring these days?”
“She is better, madam. I thank you for asking.”
“Wonderful,” Muppy said, patting the young man’s hand. “She is such a dear lady. My usual table, if you would. Oh,” she turned to wink at Treneth, “and do bring a bottle of your best.”
Treneth looked at Rimpertuz and pointed toward the door.
“I’ll take it from here, my apprentice. Not to worry now, you’ll be happier at the end of this night than I will be, and it won’t cost you nearly as much as it will me…at least not monetarily.”
“Sir?”
“You’ll see soon enough. At precisely midnight, you will meet me at Muppy’s estate. Do not be late.”
Muppy had already finished half a glass as Treneth pulled up his chair. He feigned to trip and glanced his hand across her forearm.
At first she looked at her arm, horrified. Then her eyes began to cloud and her face relaxed.
Suddenly, she was all agleam.
He felt pride as Muppy’s visage changed from disgust to one of a woman in lust. Treneth was not an average man that would easily succumb to womanly charms. Dream all you want, my dear, he thought, for tonight your downfall begins.
“What does that look mean?” Muppy said.
Treneth blanched. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he quickly grabbed his menu.
“I never knew you had such a crush on me, Treneth of Dahl.”
Muppy had never gotten his name right before. At least not on purpose. And a crush? The thought sickened him. She was attractive enough, sure. That wasn’t the problem. It was her throw-in with the lifestyle of the other wizards. Unacceptable at best and certainly not suiting for one of his caliber. But, plans were plans. Besides, it was just the elixir talking.
“Let’s just say that I am one who is full of surprises, Councilwoman.”
“We’re on a date, Treneth,” she said, waving her hand. “No formalities. Call me by my name.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Go ahead.” She winked at him as she drained the glass and began to refill it. “I want to hear it.”
“Muppy,” he said shakily.
She giggled and pushed the bottle of wine toward him.
Her reaction was stronger than he’d expected. She loathed him. Everyone loathed him. The elixir was potent indeed!
“I wanted to talk to you about something guild related.”
“No business on a date, Treneth.”
“It’s just a minor point and it would make me feel quite a bit better about…loosening up.”
She sighed and motioned him to go ahead.
“There is a friend of mine from the Underworld,” he said, pouring more wine in her glass. “His name is Teggins. You may know of him.”
“Yep.”
“Well, he has served a number of years sentence and he is looking to regain his travel status.”
“And?”
“You know how particular I am with details, madam...Muppy,” he said with a smile. “I believe the man is repentant and has studied well enough to be readmitted.”
“That’s it?”
“That is indeed it.”
“Okay,” she said, taking another sip. “Just have the papers on my desk Monday and I’ll sign the release.”
“Actually, I happen to have them right here. If you wouldn’t mind?”
“Fine,” she said a bit testily before taking the pen and signing.
“Excellent,” Treneth said. “I will drop these by the offices and put them in for Agnitine to register.”
Muppy reached out and touched his hand. Unfathomable, he thought.
“Let’s talk about something else,” she purred. “What kind of fun are we going to have tonight, Treneth of Dahl?”
“Oh, dear.”
AIDING A GORGAN
Nern,” Whizzfiddle said to the extraordinary creature, “you seem like a bright chap to me.”
“It true.”
“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do.”
“Okay.”
Whizzfiddle began walking backwards, his voice rising slightly with each step. “I’m going to show you how to get over that wall.”
“Nern like that.” He stopped smiling. “And Nern save your life too,” he continued, looking at each of them in turn. “Nern made promise.”
“You know what a secret is, right Nern?”
“Of course Nern know. Nern not dumb.”
“Indeed,” Whizzfiddle chuckled. “I have a secret, but…see those little people over there?”
“Yep.”
“They don’t know the secret,” Whizzfiddle said, his throat getting a little tender. “That’s why I’m standing way back here.”
“Why they not know?”
“Because, Nern, it’s a gorgan secret.”
Nern’s eyes widened considerably. “It is?”
“Yes, sir,” Whizzfiddle replied. “I learned it once when I was here helping...um...well, you wouldn’t know him.”
“Boomreck?”
“You know Boomreck then?”
The name was familiar, but it had been a few hundred years. And with gorgans, names like Boomreck, Roombeck, Kemboor, or, Whizzfiddle’s personal favorite, Kerboom, were commonplace.
“Everyone know Boomreck. He work with some little people before. Dat you?”
“Possibly,” he said with a shrug. “Either way, I know the secret. But I can’t let the other little people know a gorgan secret, can I?”
“No, dat would be bad.”
“I could tell you, of course.”
“Dat make sense, yep.”
“Although...” Whizzfiddle tapped his foot as if he were thinking it through.
“What wrong?”
“It’s just that I remember promising that I wouldn’t say anything to anyone.”
“Like you say, I are gorgan, so it okay.”
“That’s the thing,” Whizzfiddle said. “Boomreck—if that’s the same gorgan I was working with all those years ago—well, he didn’t specify.”
“Boomreck understand. Boomreck know Nern keep gorgan secret in brain box.”
Which was their equivalent of a safety-deposit box. There was plenty of room for secrets since not much else filled the space.
“Hmmm,” Whizzfiddle said, still acting unsure. “I suppose—”
“It okay,” Nern said with a hint of exasperation. “Nern getting tired.”
“Oh, all right,” Whizzfiddle said, “but you make sure you keep this secret secure or I’ll come and give you a walloping you won’t soon forget.”
“Yes, sir,” Nern said, looking truly frightened.
> “Fine, fine. Come over here and I’ll tell you.”
Nern jumped over the ledge and took two steps to where Whizzfiddle was and then plopped himself down as if preparing for a tale. Whizzfiddle pulled himself back to his feet and brushed the dirt from his robe and then slapped Nern on his gigantic knee.
“You did it, Nern!”
“Did what?”
Whizzfiddle watched Nern’s face slowly contort. It was as though the tiniest flame seemed to light from a candle atop an old chest of drawers covered with cobwebs sitting in the deep recesses of Nern’s childish mind. Nern inhaled quickly and jumped back up, again knocking Whizzfiddle off his feet, and did a rather large dance. Whizzfiddle rolled away as deftly as possible.
“Nern did it! Nern did it!”
Then he stopped.
“Hey, wait,” he said to Whizzfiddle. “Der no secret is der?”
Whizzfiddle grinned and shook his head.
“You smart for a little people,” Nern said.
“All in a day’s work,” Whizzfiddle replied with a wink.
The gorgan released a booming laugh. “Thank you for help,” Nern said, looking over all of them. “Now it Nern turn to save you.”
He began briskly walking away.
Orophin looked as confused as the rest of them. Whizzfiddle just shook his head.
“How are you going to save us, Nern?” The elf called out.
“I leaving,” Nern called back. “If Nern stay with little people, Nern have to kill little people. It gorgan way.”
“He a dumb one,” Gungren said.
“Aye, lad. He is at that.”
“It’s quite logical, if you think about it,” Whizzfiddle countered. “Either way, our friend Nern has done something that could help us, though I don’t know how.”
They all looked in the direction Whizzfiddle was gazing. The portal had popped back open. The lights were dimmed, but being open gave the wizard a chance to power it up for a trip back to the hub.
“I thought you said—” Orophin began.
“I did,” Whizzfiddle cut him off. “It must be his size. You saw how he kept knocking me off my feet with all his bouncing around.”
“So now we can get after getting back?” Bekner said.
“It will take a little ingenuity, but at least we’ve got a chance now.”
Whizzfiddle grabbed the hood on Gungren’s robe.
“Oh no,” he said. “You’ll be staying away from that unit until I say we’re ready to go. Bekner, if you would be so kind as to keep an eye on our little tinkerer, I would be obliged. Zel, if you would be so kind as to watch Bekner, I would be obliged to you as well. Orophin, I could use some of that elvish inventiveness if you’re game.”
“He is,” the others chorused.
Orophin put his hands on his hips. “He said game, you idiots.”
AM I ALONE?
Muppy’s bed shifted.
She slowly opened her eyes.
A light groan next to her confirmed that she was not alone.
The previous night was a little foggy, as were most Friday nights. Muppy had never woken up with an unknown in her bed though. Unknown earlier in the evening, certainly; well-known by the next morning.
She looked at the full length mirror across the room. It reflected a body next to her. Plus, there were a pair of men’s trousers on the chair beside the mirror. Blue with thin striping. She had definitely seen them before, but couldn’t place to whom they belonged.
She reached down to verify she was wearing a nightgown. She was. It was the one with the frilly lace that rode high on her thighs.
It must have been an interesting evening.
She concentrated and the previous night’s events started coming back.
The date with Treneth, the wine, the wonderful chicken with mushrooms and lemon sauce, the...nothing. She couldn’t remember much beyond that except vague shadows.
She suddenly grew nauseous.
Treneth of Dahl was in her bed?
She vowed off wine and determined that she would have to burn the bedding, have the house fumigated, quarantine the room and move to the opposite side of the house…hell, she would likely just sell the house and relocate across town.
Taking a deep breath, she craned her neck far enough to catch a glimpse of him.
She took a deep breath, afraid that reality would match the nightmare.
Then she blinked.
“Rimpertuz?”
GUNGREN TINKERS
Whizzfiddle awoke to the sound of crunching leaves.
Bekner was walking back into the clearing carrying something under his arm. It looked like a copy of the Rangmoonian Times. Zel grabbed the paper and found his way into the woods next.
Whizzfiddle was propped up against a tree and his back ached nearly as much as his head. Even if he wasn’t aging at the same rate others did, he was still in his six-hundreds and his body considered itself in retirement.
Orophin was fast asleep with his head resting nicely in a bed of leaves. Elves knew how to get comfortable in the forest.
Gungren was busily working on the portal.
Whizzfiddle pulled his flask out to drink his morning medicine. It was empty.
Every bone cracked, creaked, or did both as he stretched. Aging slowly or not, he was getting old.
Maybe it was time to settle into a life of leisure. Well, more than usual anyway. He had enough money to last him, even with taxes and alms to the poor. And farming wasn’t that bad, especially if you hired laborers to do the actual farming for you. The magic would be missed. Direly missed. Plus, he would have to swear off the juice or his body would suffer the constant ache of power.
Whizzfiddle looked at the empty flask. The first step is admitting you have a problem, they always told him. He did have a problem. He couldn’t get enough. Yes, he was addicted to the booze, but that wasn’t the issue. It was the power that was the real addiction. Any wizard would support him in this. There was nothing more magical than the flow of power, even if said power was used to do magic.
No, this was his life. A little work, but mostly play. Play without booze, without magic, was not play. It was too intellectual. Debate and deep discussions were a fine diversion, just not for the rest of his life.
This just meant that...
“Gungren!” Whizzfiddle said, springing to his feet. “What in the name of The Twelve do you think you’re doing?”
Gungren seemed to ignore the weight of the protest.
“I are fixing the box, Master.”
“I thought I was very clear that you were to stay away from that box,” Whizzfiddle said while wagging his finger, “and quit calling me that.”
“Sorry, Master.”
Bekner was standing behind them as Orophin stirred from his slumber.
“You were supposed to watch him, Bekner.”
“When nature’s after calling, wizard, you oblige.”
“It almost working,” Gungren said as he continued tinkering. “I got it figured too.”
The lights were on, which was something Whizzfiddle had not been able to accomplish all night. It wasn’t as though runt could make things much worse, aside from completely destroying the portal. He grunted, shrugged and went for his backpack. Years of practice told him that a little essence in his veins would bring clarity.
Moving back to the portal, he watched Gungren’s fat fingers as they poked and prodded a bunch of wires behind the unit. Gungren was using his nails to slice through some of them.
“Zel,” Orophin said, yawning, as Zel returned from his morning meditation, “mind?”
Zel handed him the paper and Orophin scampered off into the woods.
“Gungren…” Whizzfiddle started, afraid that the matrix of connections the tiny giant was working on would only serve to hinder them further.
“Just a minute,” Gungren said.
“You do realize—”
“Just a minute,” Gungren said again.
“—that
you have—”
Gungren groaned. “Which word have you wondering? I trying to work.”
Whizzfiddle raised his eyebrows and looked at Bekner, who merely shrugged. Gungren resumed, shaking his head and mumbling.
Bekner pulled Whizzfiddle and Zel away.
“Ye think ye’ll get us back to what we were?” Bekner asked. “It’s no life for a dwarf to be this be big.” He looked at his arms and legs. Then he rubbed his chin. “I can’t even grow a proper beard.”
“I’m sure you can also imagine that a knight in my situation is, sir, a little frustrating.”
Knowing how his own situation was precarious, Whizzfiddle did understand. He patted Zel on the shoulder.
“It fixed,” Gungren announced as Orophin returned.
Gungren finished putting the back panel on and stepped around front with the rest of them.
The lights were all on and there was a faint humming sound.
“Well done, Gungren,” Whizzfiddle said, amazed. “Well done, indeed.”
“It no problem.”
“Now,” Orophin said, “we just have to hope that whatever he did still gets us to the hub and doesn’t turn us into something worse than what we already are.”
“Aye.”
“That not happen.”
“It’s all about trust, gentlemen,” said Whizzfiddle.
“You’re after trusting that Gungren knows what he was doing then?”
“Not in the slightest, no,” Whizzfiddle replied heavily. “I refer to trusting that the universe will do what it will with us regardless of our best laid plans.”
They stepped on the platform. There were no complex dials to contend with since the Gorgan portal was only connected to two hubs, Aopow and Wimat. Whizzfiddle turned the single lever to point to Wimat Station and then, with a smile, he motioned Gungren to press the green button.
Comedic Fantasy Bundle #1: 4 Hilarious Adventures (Tales from the land of Ononokin) Page 9
