Here's Looking For You, Grim (Tales From a Second-Hand Wand Shop Book 3)

by Robert P. Wills

  Semfeld carefully lowered the Halfling to the ground (there were a lot of pointy objects it could have easily skewered itself on and thereby negated the entire deal) and then slapped the Pic’s hand.

  “You will have mounts. Food. Water. Weapons. And a Writ of Safe Passage to the edge of the Great Sandy Desert.” He slapped Semfeld’s hand back and smiled broadly. He was now the only Caravan Leader to have his own personal Attack Halfling. Not only would it help his reelection at the end of the month, at the next Pic Jamboree, he was assured a place of honor. Or else.

  A Pic Marauder handed Semfeld a Thrakskin full of water. Liverioso came up behind his partner and slapped him on the back, “Thee! I thold you things would work out!”

  The two Magicians Guild Enforcers moved to the shade of the tent. Oddly, there was a Wooly Shambler under it. Even more oddly, there was someone tied to the back. “What’cha got there?” Asked Semfeld as he pointed at the figure.

  “We found her wandering the desert. No food. No water. On the verge of death. So we grabbed her.” The Pic Warrior shrugged, “You never know what you can trade a Gnomess for. She might be worth a wagon.” He lifted her head and examined her face, “Or maybe another Wooly Shambler even.”

  Semfeld nodded, “Sounds like easy pickings.”

  The Pic got a far-off look in his eyes as he thought back on the incident. “She got four of us before we realized what was happening. Whoever she is, she’s very skilled.”

  “With a weapon?”

  “With a water skin.”

  “She killed four Pic Warriors with a water skin?” Semfeld gaped at the unconscious figure.

  “Well, it was full,” said the Pic defensively as he moved off.

  “I see.” Semfeld looked at the unconscious figure with newfound respect.

  “Think the Pics will hold up their end of the bargain?” Liverioso whispered into his partner’s ear as he sidled up to him.

  Semfeld glanced over and shook his head solemnly. “Not a chance.”

  “Whath are we going to do?”

  Semfeld gestured casually at the unconscious female. “She might be our best hope. If we can get her free, she might be willing to help us all escape.” He shrugged, “Or she may just kill us along with everyone else in her way.”

  “Whath? Whath kind of plan ith that?” Liverioso peered at the unconscious Gnomess. “She’th thath dangerouth?”

  Semfeld nodded as he put his arm around his partner and guided him to a far corner of the tent, “Let’s just keep cool until we know what our situation is. You never know with Pics.”

  “Whath youth tooth talking abouth?” The Pic Warrior pushed between the two Magicians, putting his arms around both of them.

  “We’re just wondering where we’re going from here.”

  The Warrior squeezed the two men’s shoulders. Hard. “We’re sticking together for now. We’re one big happy family you know.”

  “Are you gonna keep making fun of the way I talk?” Asked Liverioso.

  “Yeth” guffawed the Pic as he slapped the two on their backs then moved off, leaving them under the tent alone.

  The Gnomess stirred groggily. Semfeld gaped at her. “Liverioso, go out there and distract those Pics while I try to make some inroads with this Gnomess.”

  “Thure thing!” With a wink, Liverioso moved towards a group of Pics. “Thay fellas. How are things?” He asked loudly.

  Quickly Semfeld moved to the side of the Gnomess. He bent down and peered into her face. It was twisted up in rage. “Youokay?” He asked.

  The Gnomess muttered something unintelligible.

  “What?” Semfeld moved closer to her mouth, “I can’t understand you.”

  She muttered again.

  Now Semfeld’s ear was practically at her mouth. “What?”

  With a quick twist, she head butted Semfeld just above, and in front of his ear -where, thanks to her Assassin training, she knew the sutura sphenosquamosal joint ran. One of the better places to crack a skull. White spots danced before his eyes and he staggered back. “Hey!” He complained as he grabbed the Wooly Shambler’s harness to keep his balance.

  The Gnomess smirked at Semfeld, “Did ya hear that?”

  Semfeld moved quickly to the Gnomess’ face again. “Stop that, you fool! We’re captured too and I was trying to see if you wanted to join us when we tried to escape! We could just leave you here you know.”

  The Gnomess eyed the Human’s upside down face suspiciously. “Prisoners too?”

  Semfeld nodded furiously. “Yeah. My partner and I are Magician Guild Enforcers with the full weight and authority…”

  “Right, right. Get to the part where you untie me,” the Gnomess interrupted him.

  “As soon as we figure out where we’re going and how many Pics there are total and…”

  “There’s twelve left,” interrupted the prisoner.

  The upside down face moved closer. “…but first we need your assurance that you’re not going to do anything to me and my partner when we untie you. I want you to understand that the Pics are our common enemy.”

  “You aren’t who I’m interested in,” said the Gnomess, “help me out of here and we can go our separate ways.”

  “Promise?”

  The Gnomess narrowed her deep green eyes. “I give you my word as a Grand Master Assassin. You are not my target.”

  “Do you mean now, or ever?”

  The Gnomess struggled against her bonds, “You’re getting on my nerves, Human.”

  “Semfeld”

  “You’re getting on my nerves Semfeld. Don’t press your luck.”

  Semfeld nodded. “Fine then. I’ll keep you posted and let you know when we’re going to make a break for it…” He paused expectedly.

  “Chéri”

  “Chéri. So, be ready. It’ll be sooner not later.”

  Chéri nodded at the upside down Human. There were indeed other more pressing targets on her hit list. With a certain two Gnomes occupying the uppermost positions.

  One Week Later

  Chéri glowered at Semfeld from across the campfire. Her feet were bound and one arm was tied to a stake that was driven deep into the ground. With her free hand, she fed herself. Without utensils. The Pics had learned very recently that although not lethal, a spoon could be hurled with enough force and accuracy to put out an eye. At least by this particular prisoner.

  “Are we going to be in town soon?” Semfeld asked.

  The Pic Chieftain smiled broadly. He turned to look directly at Liverioso. “Which town?”

  Liverioso frowned, pressing his lips together.

  “Which town?” Coaxed the Pic.

  “Cool Thpringths” Liverioso said sourly.

  The Pics broke out in laughter. “That never gets old, does it?” Said the Chieftain. He looked at Liverioso. His face was red with a combination of anger and embarrassment. “I’m going to miss you two. Really I am.”

  “You’re going to leave us at Cool Springs then?” Asked Semfeld anxiously.

  The Chieftain nodded. “A deal’s a deal,” he lied. He gestured at the Halfling Warrior. He also had his feet bound and one arm anchored to the ground. All of his armor had been removed as well. “You two are easily worth that little devil.” He tossed a piece of meat at the Halfling.

  It caught it and quickly stuffed it into its mouth. “”Kill!” It said when it was done chewing.

  “Whaths going to happen with the Gnometh?” Liverioso asked. He wasn’t going to let ridicule keep him from the conversation.

  “Oh, we have plans for her,” said one of the Pic Warriors. The one who, due to recent, unforeseen events, was wearing an eye patch. “Definite plans.” He narrowed his remaining eye at the Gnomess.

  Semfeld nodded solemnly. “You have to admit; she’s a crack shot with a spoon.”

  Now the eye patch wearing Pic narrowed his eye at Semfeld.

  Liverioso smiled at his partner for the jab.

  “We’ll be there tomorrow,
” said the Pic Chieftain. Without realizing it, he gestured towards the town. He did not notice, but Chéri drew a line in the sand in the direction of his gesture.

  “That’s good to hear,” said Semfeld.

  “Something wrong with our company?” The Chieftain said, suddenly annoyed.

  Semfeld shook his head quickly, “Oh no, not at all” he said honestly. “The legendary hospitality of the Pics when involved in negotiations is well represented by you all. It’s just that we have someone to kill.”

  The Chieftain leaned forward. “Do tell! There’s nothing like a good tale of revenge around a campfire.”

  Semfeld shrugged, “There’s not much to tell. There are these two Gnomes who run a wand shoppe…”

  Chéri looked in Semfeld’s direction.

  “… and we went there to dole out some Magician Guild Enforcer punishment because of their Mechanimated antics. You know, pots, pans, a door. Even this jousting dummy...”

  Chéri stopped eating.

  “… and thanks to one of those contemptible, unstable Gnomes, we wound up in that hidey-hole you found us in. But now...”

  Chéri put down her plate. (it was a barely stiff piece of leather cut unevenly so it wouldn’t even fly straight).

  “… once we get back to Cool Springs, we’ll contact the Magician’s Guild to get us a line of credit so we can rent some fast animals…”

  Chéri leaned forward.

  “…and once and for all rid the lands of Grimbledung and Drimblerod.”

  Chéri screamed.

  The Pics turned to look at their normally quiet, usually hazardous captive.

  “What in the Lands,” asked Semfeld. “has gotten into you?”

  Chéri saw red before her. Red sky. Red sand. Red Pics. Red! RED! RED!

  “Quiet you!” Commanded the one-eyed Pic. He stood and stalked toward the still-screaming Gnomess. As he went, he bent down and took a burning branch from the fire. He held it out in front of him as he approached the Gnomess. “You only speak when spoken to!”

  Chéri continued to scream. It was the howl of a tormented beast. As the Pic approached, she pushed herself into a standing position. Her bound feet made her unstable but she leaned forward, making the rope anchoring her to the ground tight. As she pushed with her legs, her feet sank in the sand, giving her more stability.

  “Shut up!” The Pic raised the flaming branch high over his head as he approached. Embers fell from it, falling to the sand like tiny flaming snowflakes.

  Chéri’s scream turned into a guttural growl. Suddenly, and unexpectedly, she sat back and crumpled in a heap and began to sob. She brought her hand to her face and waves of sobbing wracked her body. Her feet were still buried in the sand. The once-taught rope now hung slack.

  The one-eyed Pic reached Chéri and paused. This was not something he had expected from the usually-angry, always-dangerous captive. He lowered the branch and bent down to address her. She was, after all, a female, and the Pic’s mother had raised him right. “Wait now, I didn’t…” he began

  In one fluid motion, Chéri kicked her feet up, spraying the Pic’s face with sand. Reflexively he dropped the burning branch and tried to clear his lone eye. The branch landed at Cheri’s feet. She scooted her feet over the fire and let it work on her bindings.

  “Look out!” Said the Chieftain, as he began to stand.

  Chéri reached out with her one free hand and grabbed the eye-rubbing Pic by the chest. She pulled him down to his knees as he tried to get the fine sand from his remaining eye. “Fight, you fools!” She snapped as she pulled her legs apart as the ropes burned through. Jumping to her feet, she knee’ed the Pic in the face. He crumpled to the ground unconscious.

  Several other Pics stood up, reaching for their weapons as they went.

  Liverioso drew Garibaldis’ wand and aimed at the first four Pics that had managed to get to their feet.

  Monkeys… Go Pop!

  He intoned. (It was a nice, non-lispable intonation)

  The incantation hit three of them. Immediately, they flashed into monkeys. Very confused Howler monkeys.

  “Wooooop!” Complained one of the monkeys. The other two nodded in agreement.

  Two more Pics rolled to their sides, drawing their weapons as they got to their feet. They kept low so the fire was between them and the lisping, and apparently armed Magician. Two others moved to try to restrain the Gnomess who now seemed to be in the possession of a Pic ceremonial dagger. At almost twelve inches long along its curved blade, it was not just for show; Pic ceremonies sometimes got out of hand. The two Pics circled just out of reach of the Gnomess as she jabbed the dagger at them.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Taunted one of the Pics. He leaned in smiled broadly at her.

  Chéri took two steps back and cut the rope anchoring her to the Great Sandy Desert at sand-level. “Wherever I want to,” she snarled as she swung her arm, and accompanying rope over her head. It almost cracked like a whip as it struck out at one of the Pic. She kept it twirling over her head as she advanced, ceremonial Pic dagger first.

  Monkeys… Go Pop!

  Intoned Liverioso again.

  Another confused monkey joined the fray.

  “WOOOP!” He complained.

  “There’s seven left!” Said Chéri as she twirled the rope over her head, corralling the two Pics farther from the fire. “Where are they?”

  Bazinga Monkey!

  Intoned Liverioso.

  “One more down!” Liverioso said.

  The Halfling Warrior looked back and forth at the action, hoping someone got close enough for him to grab them. However, even in the melee, no one lost their presence of mind that much.

  “Everyone hold!” Commanded the Pic Chieftain, angrily.

  The Pics all turned to look at their leader. He was standing ramrod straight. Behind him was the non-lisping Magician. He was also apparently armed.

  “Drop your weapons!” Semfeld commanded.

  The Pics all sheathed their weapons.

  “I said drop them!”

  “You drop your weapon in the sand!” Said one Pic, “I work hard to keep my weapon sharp, clean and oiled. There’s no way it’s going on the ground. It’d be like telling me to let it clatter onto a stone floor. Absurd. And honestly, it’s just plain rude to even suggest it.” He shook his head, “Drop them in the sand. Honestly.” Several other Pics nodded in agreement. “We’ll put them away but that’s the best you’re going to get.” Even a monkey nodded this time.

  “Well, I want them on the ground so that I know I’m safe.”

  “Really?” Said the Pic. “Why? Because they are just sooo hard to pick back up again? As soon as you run off, you know we’re all just going to pick them up and come after you.”

  “I could kill you!”

  “Sure. But then it doesn’t matter if our weapons are on the ground or in our sheaths now does it?” Argued the Pic. “No. They go in the sheaths and you’ll just have to deal with it.” He crossed his arms to show he was through debating the issue.

  “Errr…” said Semfeld. “All right then.” He gestured with his wand, “Over there.”

  The Pics all moved to the far side of the fire.

  Liverioso moved beside his partner, “Very nice!” He smiled broadly at the Gnomess. She was moving toward him. She still seemed angry. She was also still very much armed. “Nice work, Chéri!”

  Chéri moved to the two Humans. “We don’t celebrate until we’re far away from here.” She gestured towards the Monkey-Pics. “How long does that spell last?”

  Semfeld shrugged, “About three or four hours.” He tilted his hand back and forth, “Or so.”

  Chéri nodded. “Perfect.” She glared at the remaining Pics. “Do them too.”

  “Gladly!” Liverioso aimed the wand at them.

  The Pics looked wide-eyed at him. “Sorry about the teasing,” said one. “If it makes any difference.”

  Liverioso beamed, “It thure does! Than
kths!”

  Several Pics giggled at him.

  MONKEYS … GO POP!

  Snarled Liverioso as he slashed his wand at them.

  “Woo. That batch might be like that until tomorrow,” remarked Semfeld.

  “All’s the better,” said Chéri. She turned to look at the lone remaining Pic. The Chieftain. “All right, Chiefie Wiefie,” she said. “We’re going to have some quick and easy negotiations. You’ll love it.”

  The Chieftain raised an eyebrow at her, “If you’re hoping for some begging. That’s not going to happen.”

  Chéri moved in front of the Chieftain and looked up at him. “Negotiating. That’s what we’re doing here.” She pointed the dagger at the Chieftain’s chest.

  “I’m listening.” Even in such dire circumstances, the chance to negotiate was still overwhelming. “What’s the offer?” He said hopefully.

  “We don’t kill you all. And you don’t pursue us.”

  “How’s that negotiating? That’s more like a threat.” Let down, the Chieftain scrunched up his face. “You need to work on your negotiating skills.”

  “I’m an assassin. Those are the skills I work on,” said Chéri. “So the other side of the coin is that you can say you don’t accept those terms and we kill you all. Right now, you’ll just be a monkey for a while. That shouldn’t be very lethal. Even in the Great Sandy Desert. I assure you, the alternative is very lethal.”

  “That’s still not very good negotiating,” remarked the let-down Chieftain. “But I suppose I accept those terms.” His face brightened. “With one exception!”

  “Pics.” Chéri rolled her eyes. “What’s the exception?”

  “Make me a big monkey.”

  Chéri nodded at Semfeld who had taken control of Garibaldis’ wand when Liverioso picked up a free weapon. “Fine.”

  Kazaama Kong!