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

by Robert P. Wills

  “I suppose so.” Semfeld picked up the spear. It did have some weight to it, and the tip was carved into a fairly sharp point. And it had, very recently, dispatched an Orc.

  Liverioso returned to the dim light of the fire. “Thorry about that.”

  “Sorry about what? You took care of that last mangy Orc, partner!”

  “Icans hearyoutalkin’ ‘boutme, yousknow.”

  Liverioso went over to examine his work. He smiled approvingly.

  “How long will he stay like that?”

  Liverioso looked at Chéri. “About a day. By tomorrow night, his bones will all pop back into place.”

  “Thatgonnahurt?”

  “I have no idea,” confessed Liverioso.

  “Well we need to get going and if he’s going to be better in a day, then all’s the better we bring him with us to barter with.”

  Semfeld leaned on the spear. “I just wish I had a better weapon is all.”

  “We’ll make due,” Chéri assured him. “Remember who is in charge.”

  Liverioso nodded. “I’ll get the Shambler to put Mith-ter Orc on.” He went to untie one of the Shamblers.

  “Jusleaveme’ere.”

  “No way, Orc. You’re our ticket to freedom.” Chéri nudged him with her foot again. “It’s gonna take all three of us to get him up there. Have that Shambler kneel beside him and we’ll just roll hip up on its back.”

  Liverioso brought the Shambler over and kneeled it beside the Orc. “This close enough?”

  Chéri nodded. “Everyone get on one side and let’s heave the bag of skin over.”

  After only two tries, the trio had the Orc balanced properly on the Shambler. Much to the Orc’s displeasure they tied his arms under the Shambler to keep him in place.

  “All right. Let’s head out and see if we can find a good place to hide out for the night. Something that is defendable.”

  “I still think we should stay put and make the best of this clearing.”

  “And I still think I’m in charge of this little group.” Chéri marched up to the other Shambler and untied it. “And I think it’s time to get going!”

  “I have a bad feeling about thith”

  Chapter Forty

  Look Who’s Coming to Dinner. Now

  With the Shamblers in tow, the three moved into the forest in search of a safe place to bed down for the night.

  Not Even Five Minutes Later

  “Well this is a fine how-do-you-do” said Semfeld. “Fine indeed.” He looked at Chéri. She wouldn’t make eye contact with him.[21]

  “Thay, anyone want to play a game? It’s called who wath right.”

  Chéri made eye contact with Liverioso. In that brief moment, she conveyed a great deal of pounding and pain to be delivered at an as of yet unnamed time. Frustrated she wasn’t in any position to dole out said punishment, she looked away from him.

  “So, Chéri. Now that you’re the boss and everything. I was hoping that maybe you know, you could do something boss like.” Semfeld glowered at the Assassin. “Like, oh, I don’t know, GET US OUT OF THIS MESS!”

  “Shaddap you!” Ordered the Orc holding the front pole that Semfeld was currently tied to.

  The one holding the back of the pole did a shuffle-step and kicked him in the rear. “That’s yer last warning!”

  Even though Liverioso was being transported tied to the same pole as his partner, his back was to him so he didn’t see the kick. “Thath’s a grand idea!” Within moments, he received a kick of his own.

  Chéri bobbed up and down- being the smallest, she had been tied to the end of a pole that an Orc had held over his shoulder like a long fishing pole. “Caught me a Gnome!” He had remarked as he had hoisted her up.

  Chéri exhaled angrily. At least they hadn’t searched us, she thought. I’ve got my dagger and one of those two idiots still has a wand. We just need to figure...

  The Orcs stopped in the middle of a small clearing. “This’ll work?” Asked the Orc carrying Chéri.

  Front Orc nodded. “Sure. Don’t need that much space to do some cookin’. Just need a place to sit, really.”

  “And start a fire, ‘course,” added back Orc, helpfully. “This spot’ll work.”

  “Ya hungry too?”

  “Idon’ thinkIcans eatanythin’ ,” said puddles Orc.

  The three Orcs guffawed. After finding the Humans and Gnome trudging through the forest, they were offered the boneless Orc as ransom to pass. Not knowing what ransom was, they immediately snatched the three travelers, planning on eating them. They brought the soupy Orc along for laughs. So far, the plan was working out splendidly- they would soon sit and eat, and they were being provided with laughs galore.

  “Knot hungry are ya?” Chéri-carrying Orc snickered. “Knot? Knot?”

  Rear Orc laughed along heartily.

  Front Orc didn’t get it. As far as Orcs were concerned, he was one of the more dimwitted ones. But he was good in a fight, which counted for more than brains where Orcs were concerned.

  “I’ll go get some kindlin’” said Chéri carrying Orc. He hefted the pole high over his head and slammed it into the ground. It sunk in over a foot as Chéri bounced off the ground, effectively staked in place. For the briefest of moments, he considered ordering Kilmer (front Orc) to watch the prisoners, but dismissed the thought because Tarl (rear Orc) was there, and he seemed to be easily four times as smart and would never let their dinner get away. Confident, he moved off in search of firewood.

  “I’ll see about findin’ some herbs for spicin them up while Mangus is out,” said Tarl. For the briefest of moments, he considered ordering Kilmer to watch the prisoners, but dismissed the thought because, in all honestly, he was just barely smarter than Kilmer- it was just the fact that he tended to keep his mouth shut that kept other Orcs from noticing. So Tarl abruptly let go of his end of the pole holding Semfeld and Liverioso. Kilmer didn’t let go of his end because he was looking at a tree. As the pole bounced on the ground, Semfeld and Liverioso slipped off. Though their hands and feet were tight on the pole while they were hanging, now that they were free of it, the ropes literally fell off as they rolled to a stop. They looked at each other for a split second then bolted in opposite directions into the underbrush before front Orc turned around.

  Front Orc turned around, “Well, I guess I’ll prep the...” He stopped because all that he saw was several tangles of rope and a very angry looking Gnomess sitting on the ground, tied to a pole. “Uhm...” he said. He tried to think back and was fairly certain they had captured more than one prisoner. Since he couldn’t count, he wasn’t sure how many, but it was more than one. Probably.

  “Heyyou” said Puddles from the back of one of the Shamblers.

  Ahh! That’s it. There was that other Orc that looks weird and those two Shamblers. That’s what we caught! Kilmer smiled in triumph as he looked around the camp. “I’ll just prep the Gnomess then since we don’t eat things we can ride. Maggus tol’ me that. Right?”

  “Right,” said Puddles. Because it was sound advice. Nothing else came to mind. Since his brains were down near his left shoulder at the moment, he wasn’t thinking too clearly.

  “Yeah.” Kilmer looked at a tree. He liked trees. And poems. And poems about trees. I don’t thinks I’ll ever sees a poem as loverly as that tree. That tree with its hungry mouth pressed against the sweet land’s flowin’ boobie...

  “Theysgettin’ away,” said Puddles. Because they were.

  Kilmer nodded. “Yeah. I’m gonna prep the Gnomess.” He drew a long dagger from his side. “Cause Maggus is brining wood.”

  Semfeld slid off the pole. As he hit the ground, he put his hands out to brace himself. The once tight ropes fell slack to his forearms. He twisted his arms and the ropes flopped off. As he moved his feet under him, those ropes also dropped free. He looked at his partner and bolted into the underbrush.

  As Semfeld ducked down behind a bush, he saw his partner do the same in the other direction. The
Orc holding the pole still hadn’t turned around. He made eye contact with Liverioso and gestured to a nearby tree. When he got a nod in return, he moved in that direction.

  Liverioso slid off the pole. As he hit the ground, he put his feet out to brace himself. The once tight ropes fell slack onto his calves. He straightened his feet and the ropes flopped off. As he moved his hands under him, those ropes also dropped off. He looked at his partner and bolted into the underbrush.

  As Liverioso ducked behind a log, he saw his partner do the same in the other direction. The Orc seemed to be looking up at a tree and still hadn’t turned around. He made eye contact with Semfeld; he was pointing to a nearby tree. Liverioso gave a quick nod and moved in that direction.

  Semfeld made it to the tree just before Liverioso. “Great!” He said. “We should make a run for it while he’s busy with that stinking Gnome.”

  Liverioso gaped at his partner. “What? We can’t juth leave her there!”

  “She’d do the same to us. Without a moment’s thought.”

  “That’s cause she’s an Assassin. We’re Magithians of the Great Magithian Guild, and enforthers at that.” Liverioso shook his head. “We’re better than that.”

  Semfeld put his hand on his partner’s shoulder. “You’re right. I’m sorry; I don’t know what I was thinking.” He looked at the Orc. It had finally turned around and was moving towards Chéri. He had also drawn a very long knife. “Uh oh.”

  Liverioso drew his wand. “I can geth him from here.”

  “I’ll move around to get Chéri and the Shamblers when you do. Give me a couple of seconds if you can.” With another pat on his noble partner’s shoulder, Semfeld moved toward the Orc.

  Liverioso aimed down his arm at the Orc. He had a full view of his back. He just needed to wait until his (also) noble partner was in position. “Here we go.”

  Kilmer moved toward the Gnomess. “Now, I’m gonna prep you fer cookin, if that’s all right w’you.”

  “No, actually, that’s not all right by me, you oaf.”

  “Kilmer.”

  “Kill who?”

  “M’name’s Kilmer, not Oaf. Oaf didn’t come on this trip.”

  Chéri moved to a standing position. “Well, if you’re going to kill me, don’t expect me to go quietly.”

  “Naww... You’ll probably holler real loud like all the rest, I imagine.” He raised the knife.

  Chéri looked into the eyes of the Orc. There was not hatred in them at all. Killing her to him was just something to do- like killing a chicken before cooking it. What a way for a Grand Master Assassin to go. And where did those two Humans go? They’re probably cowering under a log hoping they can just get away. Chéri closed her eyes. Curse them to the lowest bowels of Niflheim!

  “GO!” Shouted Semfeld as he sprang from the bushes.

  Kilmer looked at the Human. “Hey, I ’member you. You was...” Kilmer was cut off as he was transformed into a large tan toadstool with bright red and blue dots.

  Chéri opened her eyes.

  Semfeld reached down as he ran toward Chéri, grabbing the now ownerless knife as he went. Within three more bounds, he was at her. He skidded to a stop and dropped to his knees.

  “Semfeld!”

  “Shhh!” He cut at the ropes. The knife was very sharp and made quick work of them. He stood up and offered his hand to her. He hoped something dashing would come to mind to say, but nothing did. Instead all he could think of was: “Come with me if you want to live.”

  Chéri took Semfeld’s hand and let herself be pulled to her feet. She hugged him. “Thanks”

  “We need to go. Quick like.” Semfeld turned and untied one of the Shamblers.

  “Willya leaveme ‘ere?”

  Semfeld kneeled down and untied Puddles’ arms. He oozed off the Shambler’s back. “There you go, Orc.”

  “Thanks. I’lls tellhim yougone th’ otherway.”

  Semfeld nodded at Puddles. “Deal.”

  Liverioso ran up to the pair. “Leth go before that other cometh back.”

  Chéri untied the other Shambler. “You won’t have to tell me twice. How long will he be like that?” She pointed at Toadstool Orc.

  “About an hour. I didn’t get a full windup on him.”

  Chéri nodded. “We need to be long gone by then.” She pulled the Shambler roughly to her. “Let’s get out of here and then put that turtle to work again.”

  Semfeld turned and jogged towards the tree he and Liverioso met at- it was, if nothing else, in the opposite direction of the Orc who had gone for wood.

  Chéri and Liverioso fell in step behind him, all three picking up a fast jog.

  Mangus stepped into the clearing. He had large logs stacked up his arms to his chin. Cooking three whole meals took a bit of wood, after all. “I’m back. Did ya make sure...” He looked around. The clearing was empty. “Not again. That stupid Kilmer.”

  “They’s gonethataway,” Puddles said as he gestured with a soupy finger in the direction the trio had run.

  Mangus looked down at Puddles. “Where’s Kilmer?”

  “Which’ns that?”

  “The stupid one.” Maggus let out a long breath. “The one that was supposed t’be preppin the prisoners.”

  “He th’toadstool there.” Puddles swiveled his finger around to point.

  Maggus dropped the logs in exasperation.

  Not on Kilmer.

  Or on Puddles.

  “Where’s....”

  Tarl stepped into the clearing. “Got some marjoram an’ wild onion an’ some ginger bark. This should turn out...” His voice trailed off as he looked at the very angry Maggus. “Not again. That stupid Kilmer.”

  Maggus nodded.

  “Where’s he?”

  Maggus pointed at the toadstool. “Ya know how long he’s going to be like that?”

  “Said n’hour.”

  Maggus nodded. He looked from Puddles to Kilmer to Tarl. Tarl looked straight back at him and nodded.

  “Canwetalkthisover, fellas?”

  Semfeld, Liverioso, and Chéri ran through the forest with the Shamblers in tow.

  “We need to check to see if we’re going the right way,” said Semfeld. “We just have to stop for a minute!”

  “Fine, fine.” Chéri stopped running. She was winded but not out of breath.

  Liverioso put his hands on his knees. “We. Should. Ride. The Shamblers.”

  Semfeld moved to the side of the Shambler and pulled the turtle out of the pouch. He put it on the ground. The turtle poked out its head and looked at him. “To the Guild, remember?”

  The turtle nodded then turned its head forward. With grim determination, it began to walk in what seemed to be a mostly straight line, off to the side of the direction they had been running.

  “Well, at least we need to be going away from those Orcs.” Semfeld picked up the turtle and dropped him back into the sack. A thought occurred to him. He reached down and grabbed a large handful of grass and dropped it in the sack with the turtle. “Snack time.”

  Liverioso shook his head. “If I ate, I’d throw up.”

  Chéri looked around. “Well, we should ride for a little, I think.”

  “You said riding was dangerous.”

  “Well, we need to get some distance between those Orcs and us. That’s more dangerous, I think.”

  Semfeld nodded at her. “Sounds good.” He smiled. “Glad you’re with us.”

  Chéri smiled a genuine smile back. “Me too.”

  Liverioso shoved Chéri, “Don’t go and get mushy on us.”

  Chéri shoved him back. “Do that again and I’ll kill you where you stand,” she said. She was, however smiling.

  “There, thath’s more like it.”

  “Let’s get some ground between us and them and find a good place to bed down.”

  The three mounted their Shamblers – Chéri with Liverioso- and began to move at a trot through the dark forest.

  Chapter Forty-One

&nbs
p; Look! Who’s Running? Dinner

  Chéri, Liverioso, and Semfeld rode through the forest, ducking under branches as they let their Shamblers navigate the trees ahead of them. After almost half an hour, Chéri spoke up: “I think we should see about finding a place to bed down for the night.”

  Semfeld leaned forward, trying to look into the night. He was not successful. A thought occurred to him. “Hey, I have an idea. Stop for a moment.” He pulled on the reins of the Shambler and as soon as it stopped, he slipped off the saddle.

  Chéri guided her Shambler beside his. “What are you doing?”

  “Going to use our tracker to see if there’s someplace safe around here to hide out until morning.”

  “What?”

  Semfeld reached into the bag hanging on his Shambler. “I’ll ask the turtle.” He peered into the shell of the turtle. “We need a safe place to sleep. Some place that’s defendable. Can there be anything like that around here?”

  The turtle poked out his head and stared at Semfeld.

  “We’ll keep going to the Guild tomorrow. Now we need a safe place to stay for the night. There’s got to be something like that around here. Isn’t there?” He tried again.

  The turtle nodded slowly.

  “Is it close by?”

  The turtle looked over at Chéri. It didn’t nod.

  “You’re going to confuse it, let me do the asking”

  Chéri let out an exasperated sigh. “Turtles.”

  “Is it close by?”

  The turtle nodded again.

  “Can you walk there in less than five minutes?”

  The turtle nodded.

  “Make it so,” commanded Semfeld as he put the turtle down.

  The turtle looked around for a moment, twisted its head oddly, then walked off in a 90 degree angle from where they were standing.

  “Less than five minutes that way then.”

  “I don’t see how...”