A Sprinkling of Thought Dust

by Steven & Margaret Larson

WHAT’S IN THE BOX

  Snug in his hammock, Electrum lay listening to the morning sounds of palace activity. Sprites passed by his door in a continuous stream. He yawned and reluctantly swung his feet out of the hammock. They bumped against the old book he had dropped there last night. The hammock pitched and swayed as he leaned over. Instinctively he sat up before it tipped him out on the floor.

  A month had passed since he put the deposit on his retirement tree. A month of pouring through all the books he had inherited and collected. Last night he had finally finished the last one. None had revealed any additional information on the changeling plant. The only way to identify it was with a cat.

  He rubbed his eyes. That only left the palace archives. That meant asking Simon, but how was he to do that without provoking his curiosity.

  If only there was a way to find the plant without a cat. But all the references listed a cat as the only way to identify it. Even that wasn’t foolproof. Some cats showed no interest in it. All of them were fickle and most were dangerous. Even if they found another cat and managed not to get eaten, they might end up with the wrong plant. Wouldn’t that be a fine mess?

  He dragged out his storage bag, a gift from the King when he first took the job as Grand Pookah twenty years ago. Faded spots and weather stains marred its surface. The royal seal adorning the flap was once brilliant silver. Now it was blackened with age.

  He stuffed the book inside with the others. Last night he had tripped over the bag’s open flap. This time he made sure he closed it securely and slid it all the way under the hammock.

  There was no time this morning to ponder ancient riddles. He and Silverthorn had an appointment with the King to discuss the upcoming Eclipse Night.

  He threw on his crumpled gray robe. The wrinkles were now firmly creased into the fabric. He tried to smooth it out, but it looked worse than ever. It was too late to do anything about it now and too late for a proper breakfast. He gulped down a biscuit left over from a couple nights ago. Oil had soaked through the wrapper and he wiped his fingers on a leaf.

  The stale bread was a heavy lump in his stomach as he rushed down the corridor. Pain stabbed his side with every step. The robe swirled around his legs slowing his progress, but at least it kept out the cold air. His retirement tree was going to have windbreaks he decided. No more of these shivering cold breezes.

  He hoped Silverthorn was waiting in the library as they had agreed. The King would be pacing and muttering about incompetence if they were late.

  He rounded the corner and skidded to a stop. Tanner’s huge form lurked at the library door as if listening. Electrum held his breath wondering what he would say if Tanner turned around. After a long moment the guard marched away, his heavy boots rapping on the wooden floor. When he was out of sight, Electrum slipped into the library.

  Shadows shifted around the room followed by rustling noises and muttering. There was a flash of wings.

  “Silverthorn, what’s going...?” A figure collided full force into him knocking out his breath. He found himself gasping on the floor with scrolls cascading off his chest.

  “Pa-pardon me,” a young sprite stammered as he scrambled across the floor gathering up the scrolls. He bumped into tables and seemed always on the verge of tripping.

  It was Gilder, Simon’s son. When he matured, he would be tall like his father. Right now he was having difficulty just maneuvering his long legs around the crowded room.

  Electrum started to sit up when Gilder grasped his arm and pulled him to his feet. He picked up the hat and shook it off before handing it back to the pookah. “I trust you are not hurt.”

  “Humph,” Electrum said, and pushed the hat firmly onto his head. “What was Tanner doing here?”

  Gilder stooped down and tucked a long scroll under his arm. “Tanner?” his voice squeaked and he almost dropped the small intricate box he was carrying.

  “Tanner. You remember him.” He extended his hand over his head. “Tall fellow? Dark armor? Leering countenance?”

  Gilder folded his wings and slipped past him. He peered up and down the hall. “I don’t see him.”

  Electrum took a deep breath and tried again. “I was looking for Silverthorn. We’re going to be late. Do you know where he is?”

  “Gilder stammered. “He’s – he’s not here.”

  “I can see he’s not here,” Electrum said. “Isn’t it your job as his valet to know where he’s at?”

  Gilder nodded.

  Electrum sighed with impatience. “Never mind. I’ll check his room.”

  He strode down the hallway shaking his head. When he glanced back, Gilder was jogging after him with the end of the scroll slowly sliding from his grasp. The end bounced along the floor.

  “Simon would be appalled at how you’re treating those manuscripts,” he called over his shoulder.

  “Yes, sir,” Gilder said as he hopped to one side, trying to shift the scroll back into position while clutching the box.

  They arrived at the prince’s room and Gilder ducked past the pookah and lifted the door tapestry. The scroll finally escaped from his grasp. He scrambled after it as it rolled across the floor and bumped against Silverthorn’s feet. The prince looked up from a book.

  Gilder scooped up the scroll. “The Grand Pookah,” he whispered loudly.

  Electrum stepped inside mumbling. “It shouldn’t be a surprise.”

  Gilder crossed to where cracks in the tree bark made natural niches in the wall. He set the small box in one of the cubbyholes. Sparkles glittered around the seam where the lid closed as though something was leaking out. Electrum took a step forward to see better.

  Silverthorn closed his book with a thump. Electrum jumped.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t meet you as planned,” Silverthorn said.

  “Why weren’t you in the library?”

  “Guards,” he said. “I missed Sterling’s class this morning and was trying to avoid a confrontation. I sent Gilder to meet you.”

  “We met,” Electrum said rubbing his arm.

  “Well, then. Are we ready to make plans for when worlds collide?”

  “Why not. Another collision seems inevitable.”

  Silverthorn took the pookah’s arm and steered him out of the room. “Let’s not keep father waiting.”

  The meeting was a mere formality. Silverthorn managed to slip out almost as soon as it started leaving Electrum to pacify the King.

  A constant stream of messenger sprites interrupted, fragmenting the meeting till Electrum could not see how they were accomplishing anything. Each time, Simon smoothed things over. The King never focused on the details and seemed contented with whatever Simon proposed.

  An hour passed and then another. Lunchtime came and went. Finally he was dismissed and escaped into the hall. Simon fell into step beside him.

  The afternoon sun cast muted light on the crowded hallways. Simon leaned close and murmured, “Perhaps you have a moment to join me in the library.”

  Electrum had been hoping for a bite to eat and a nap, but he couldn’t turn down the king’s aide. “Of course,” he said.

  With the door tapestry in place, the library was dark. Simon led the way to a desk in the back where he uncovered a small glowstone lamp. The light cast shadows on his face making it look careworn. Electrum wondered just how old the sprite was. He still stood tall and showed no sign of aging weakness.

  “I need to send a messenger to the Gold Realm,” Simon said. “I was hoping you could help.”

  Electrum’s stomach pinched and his head felt a little light, but all thoughts of a nap vanished. The last errand Simon had sent him on had been to confront Sterling at the dock. “I will locate a pollywog for you,” he said, hoping that would suffice.

  “I was hoping you might make the trip - if your schedule allows.”

  Electrum plopped into a nearby chair. With resignation he said, “How can I help?”

  Simon smiled. “I would go myself, but,” he
shrugged.

  Electrum nodded. Being a pookah wasn’t always an advantage. Simon couldn’t travel between the worlds. His wings had changed years ago.

  “I need to check on the progress of a tapestry that Mirta is creating.”

  “Another tapestry? After all that effort to get Sterling to release the shipment the King didn’t like the first one?”

  “This one is not for the King. It has special significance. I would count it a favor if you would be so kind as to make a visit to her shop and see how soon it will be finished. I am most eager for its arrival.”

  At least I don’t have to face Sterling, Electrum thought. And a visit to Mirta was always pleasant. He stood up. “I can get passage with Ragnar in a few weeks, once the ice clears and the Passage River is open.”

  “That’s most accommodating of you.” He handed him a sealed envelope. “It is most important that she receive this at the first available opportunity.”

  Electrum raised his eyebrows and took the envelope.

  Simon said, “It’s payment and the usual paperwork. But there are also some special instructions for Mirta.”

  “Perhaps you should keep this until I am ready to leave.”

  “I’ll feel better knowing it’s in your hands rather than with me.”

  “This is about more than tapestries isn’t it?”

  Simon nodded. “Let’s just say the seal should only be broken by Mirta, and it will be safer in your keeping.”

  Electrum slipped the envelope into his pocket. It felt thick and heavy against his chest.