A New Hope (Tales From a Second-Hand Wand Shop Book 4)

by Robert P. Wills

  “Which part?”

  “They may very well be cursed by a witch, Liv. I do know the part about charcoal was accurate. Like I said; I’ve seen Halflings use both coal and charcoal.”

  “I’m not thure I want to deal with them. Cursed folks usually bring trouble with them.”

  Semfeld nodded at his partner. “You’re probably right.” He smiled. “We’ll send Chéri to deal with them next time.”

  Liverioso chuckled at his partner. “Those poor cursed folk.”

  Chéri glanced over from her wagon. “You two should be jesters.

  “Ith there money in that?”

  “No.”

  Liverioso pursed his lips.

  “Let’s see what we can get so we’re back in plenty of time before dark,” suggested Semfeld. He pointed into the center of Aution. “It’s probably a mess in the middle, so why don’t we skirt around the edges and see what we can find there?”

  Liverioso nodded. “Good idea. Lead the way.”

  After several minutes, the trio had ridden around the edge of the burned out town to a section that seemed to have been spared the ravages of the inferno.

  “This section seems to have been spared the ravages of the inferno,” commented Chéri. “This might work out nicely.” She moved her wagon alongside a one-story building.

  “Hey! That looks promithing!” Liverioso pointed at the section that seemed to have been spared the ravages of the inferno.

  “Right; this section seems to have been spared the ravages of the inferno,” said Chéri. Again. “This might work out nicely.” She glanced at Semfeld. “You know, you haven’t been cursed, so I know you can hear me...”

  “Hey!” Interrupted Semfeld.

  “What now?”

  Semfeld looked at Chéri. “Those guys answered my questions back there.” He frowned. “I think they can hear fine.”

  “Well, we’ll just keep an eye on them and if they try anything underhanded, I’ll deal with them.” She looked back at the buildings. “As I was saying...” There were several buildings that looked more or less intact. “Yes, should work out nicely,” said Chéri, “as long as they’re unoccupied”.

  “Who’d live in thith town?”

  “There’s at least three we’ve met.” Chéri stopped her wagon. “We should stop back here until we’re sure what we’re dealing with.”

  Semfeld and Liverioso followed suit.

  “Let’s go knock first. If we need to make a run for it, the wagons are here out of the clutter and we can just head straight to get away from anything.”

  “Always have an exit plan, huh?”

  “It’s the first rule of an assassin,” said Chéri.

  Semfeld laughed. “There’s that first rule again.” He and his partner hopped of their wagons to join Chéri infront of them.

  Chéri made her way to the closest of the structures, the two humans close behind. “All the important rules are at the beginning of the list.” She knocked hard on the door. It fell in. “Well, that’s a good sign, I suppose.”

  “Well, we could uthe a door, so...” He stepped forward and picked up the door. “I’ll put it on the wagon.”

  “Good idea, Liv.” Semfeld moved along the wall of the structure. “I’m going to see how the sides and back look.”

  “I’ll check inside, just in case.” Chéri stepped into the two-story building.

  Within a few minutes, the three met back at the entrance.

  “The inside’s empty.”

  “No people, that’s good.”

  “No furniture either; it’s been emptied out.” She put her hand on the doorframe. “So no free furniture to be had this time around.”

  Semfeld nodded. “Well, maybe next time. So let’s... get...” He looked up at the building. “...to...”

  “Thith looks pretty solid still. Maybe we should...” Liverioso pursed his lips.

  Chéri stepped back and looked at the building as well. “It sure does. I’m surprised it fared so well.” She developed a frown as the same thought occurred to her. “Well that’s about the stupidest thing.”

  The trio looked in silence at the still solid building. That they had no way of dismantling.

  “Wait,” Chéri said finally. “Those two Gnomes, Drimblerod and Grimbledung have this spell that makes things smaller. Do you know that spell?”

  “Minisculate?”

  Chéri snapped her fingers. “Yeah! That’s the one!”

  Semfeld shook his head. “No. That’s not a magician’s spell.”

  “Not a magician’s spell? What’s that mean? It’s magic right? What’s the difference?”

  “Sure it’s magic, but it’s not a magician’s spell. That means that magicians don’t know that spell. It’s not one of the ones taught to magicians. If it hasn’t been embedded into a wand, they can’t just conjure it up.”

  “But you’re not Magician Guild Enforcers anymore. Can’t you learn it?”

  “What, you mean right now?” Semfeld gestured around. “Here?”

  Chéri nodded. “Yes.”

  “Well of course I can.”

  Chéri smiled. “Good...” She began.

  “Attention any Sorcerers in the area!” Semfeld bellowed at the top of his lungs.

  Chéri frowned.

  “Can you please come over and spend a couple of days working on teaching me one of your spells?”

  Chéri pursed her lips.

  “Even though I’m not in your guild!”

  Chéri shoved Semfeld. “You know you’re asking for it.”

  “Hey! Thath would work. Why don’t we just asthk to have the place torn down?”

  “You’re asking for it too,” Chéri warned Liverioso.

  Semfeld patted his partner’s shoulder. “No, no. I think he’s right.” A smile came to his face. “Oh yes. We can do that.” He took three quick steps away from the pair and then turned quickly to face them. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we sure can.”

  “Oh boy. I know where this is going.” Chéri rolled her eyes. She moved back to the wagon and leaned on the edge. “Pray, tell me how you might do that?” She deadpanned. “I would so love to see that trick.”

  “Oohh! Me too! Me too!” said Liverioso. Even though it was his idea. He moved beside Chéri and leaned on the wagon. He bumped her shoulder with his. “Oh boy!”

  Chéri rolled her eyes. Secretly however, she was curious what spell the magician had in his repertoire to accomplish the embarrassing task they had brought upon themselves.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen. I am glad you are here,” began Semfeld, “to witness this event. It is not one that happens every day, you know. Not every day.”

  “You know there are only two of us here, right?” Offered Chéri.

  Liverioso clapped.

  Chéri bumped his shoulder with hers. Hard.

  Liverioso stopped clapping.

  “Who among you needs a building torn down, post haste?” He pointed at Chéri? “You my dear lady? You, fine gentleman in the front row?”

  Chéri sighed loudly. “I suppose I do,” she admitted.

  “Me too!” Exclaimed Liverioso, happy that he had been picked out of the crowd. It was a rare occurrence.

  “Well then I ask for your attention please.” Semfeld pulled his wand from his belt sheath inside his cloak. “Attention please! I can fix your problem with the wave of my wand. This very wand.” A smile came to his face. “Oh, you’ve got trouble, my friends, trouble. And that starts with ‘T’, and that rhymes with ‘B’, and that stands for... Beaver!”

  “And here I was expecting a turtle.”

  “Shhh!” Liverioso shushed Chéri. He bumped her shoulder with his- not hard however; that would have been rude.

  Semfeld waved his wand over a small pile of planks.

  Chéri rolled her eyes.

  “Oh yes, a treat for your eyes,” continued Semfeld, nonplussed. “Oh yes, your very eyes.” He gestured at planks before him. “Prepare to be astounded!”

>   Liverioso clapped and hooted. He was always on the verge of being astounded; all he needed was a nudge in the right direction.

  “Silence please. Silence,” said Semfeld. He gestured at Chéri, “And please keep your children by your side...”

  “What?”

  Semfeld waved his wand over the planks.

  The wood we have sought after

  is here before us but too long to handle!

  But the planks’ll assist us, it’s their pleasure.

  Castoridae Castor!

  To do the task.

  Just remember; I’m your master!

  He intoned.

  “That’s the most absurd…” began Chéri as the planks developed a furry covering. As they elongated, flat leathery looking tails grew from one end. As the boards puffed out, becoming more like fur-covered cylinders, the ends opposite the flat leathery part developed round, furry heads with short ears and two large teeth protruding from the mouths. The six furry creatures were just over two feet long each.

  Liverioso clapped and hooted. Again.

  Semfeld took a bow. Then another.

  “I don’t see how those little rodent looking things are going to help us, Liv,” said Chéri.

  Semfeld winked at her. “Oh, you’ll see, my fair lady in the front row.”

  “Fair?”

  Semfeld slipped his wand back into the folds of his cloak, then clapped his hands once. The creatures stood on hind legs and looked at him. “Cut this thing down into manageable sized planks.” He pointed at the building beside them.

  The creatures continued to look at Semfeld. He stared back for a moment. “Oh, sorry.” He smiled. “Make the pieces twice my height.”

  Again the creatures stared at him. Semfeld shrugged then he stretched himself out on the ground. He picked up his head to look at the creatures. “Better?”

  The half-dozen creatures walked from one end of the Magician to the other several times. Once they were sure they had his length, they scurried into the building.

  Semfeld sat up. “Well, while they’re doing that, we might as well have a snack.”

  Chéri shook her head. “I really hate doing this. I really do.” Both of the men looked at her. Begrudgingly, she clapped several times. “Very nice, Sem.”

  Semfeld scrambled to his feet and executed several bows.

  “Still, I just hope no one we know comes by,” said Chéri.

  The trio watched as the beavers scampered into the building. They could hear gnawing and the occasional clattering of a piece of wood. After not even five minutes, the building began to sway back and forth. As it leaned far to one side, all the beavers scampered out of it before it toppled over. When it landed on its side, the sides of the building gave way, spitting like a box dropped from a great height. As the sides spread outward, dozens of boards, all about twice Semfeld’s length, scattered around.

  “Woo hoo, Semfeld!” Liverioso clapped. “That was faster than us even getting a snack.”

  Chéri pushed herself off the wagon. “It sure was. Tell you what; you get the rest of that wood cut and stacked and I’ll get the sandwiches put together.”

  Semfeld winked at Liverioso. “Deal.”

  While Chéri busied herself with the basket of food they had gotten from the Duck Inn and Dine, Semfeld and Liverioso began to load the wood. And chat with the beavers.

  Chapter 15

  Exactly How Much Wood Semfeld’s Beaver Will Chuck

  (Not a lot)

  “So, good beavers,” said Semfeld, “you have done some really fine wood working there”. Sometimes even magically created creatures needed buttering up. “You really have.”

  The beavers looked from the Magician to the pile that was until recently, a building. One nodded.

  “Now, if you would be so kind as to cut these remaining boards into about the same length, I would appreciate it.

  “Really wonderful work you’ve done,” added Liverioso. Hopefully.

  The beavers looked from the large pile, to Semfeld and back. Twice. With a shrug, they moved to the wood and began to gnaw on the boards that were sticking out at random angles. As the boards were cut, Semfeld or Liverioso would toss it to one side. Once they had a small pile, they would stop tossing the wood and would load the wagons instead. They repeated the process several times.

  After almost an hour’s worth of work, the two sweaty Magicians looked at their wagons. Chéri was sitting on one, eating a sandwich, watching the labor.

  “Hey! I thought we were all going to eat!” Complained Liverioso.

  “I thought so too.” Semfeld narrowed his eyes at the Gnomess. “What gives?”

  Chéri hopped off the wagon. “Well, things were going so well, I didn’t want to interrupt. Then, I got hungry while watching, so I started eating my sandwich. Then you were still working so splendidly, I ended up eating all three sandwiches.”

  “What?” Gaped Liverioso.

  Chéri laughed. “Just kidding; see? It’s not as bad as you thought.” She pointed at the basket. You two have two each.” She smiled. “When I saw how hard you were working, I thought I’d make you up an extra one each.”

  “Well, that’s nice.” Semfeld dusted his hands off and walked to the wagon. He sat roughly. “Manual labor is definitely not something that I want to do on a regular basis.”

  “Me neither,” agreed Liverioso as he moved to the basket. He reached in and took a large sandwich and immediately began to eat. Using his free hand, he clambered onto the wagon. “Nice, Chéri. Real nice.” As he sat cross-legged, his partner moved beside him.

  The beavers stopped gnawing on the planks to watch. The trio didn’t notice.

  Chéri grabbed a jug of mead as she too joined the pair, sitting across from them. “That’s going to be a lot of wood.” She looked at the pile. “How much do you figure it takes to make a house?”

  Semfeld shrugged. “I don’t know. We can load up the wagons and bring it all back. Then if we need another load or two, we can always come get them.”

  Chéri nodded as she worked on the last of her sandwich.

  The beavers all sat down. Two frowned as much as a beaver was able to frown. The others narrowed their eyes.

  “So do you think we should look for furniture the next time?” Liverioso asked. “We need stuff on the inside too. Some beds and stuff to put clothes in.”

  “Commode,” offered Chéri.

  “That’s going to be out back.”

  “No, a thing that holds clothes is called a commode.”

  “I thought that was called a wardrobe and a commode went out back.”

  Chéri shrugged. “That’s another name for them as well. Depends where you’re from, I suppose.”

  The three returned to eating. Two beaver lay down. They were all still watching the humans.

  Liverioso finished his sandwich. “I think I’ll thave the second one for the way back.” He stood on the wagon. “Want to get back to work now that we’re refreshed?”

  Semfeld rolled off the wagon- his sandwich was done too. “Sure thing. I feel brand new.”

  “I’ll help too,” offered Chéri. “So we can get back in time for dinner.”

  The three approached the group of beaver. “Why’d you stop?” Semfeld asked testily. “There’s still wood to be cut.”

  The beavers looked at each other. Finally, one stood on its hind legs to face the Magician. It looked back at its compatriots. They nodded at him. He nodded back then turned to face Semfeld again.

  “Well? Get to cutting.”

  The beaver snorted at him.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Chapter 16

  Return of the One Armed Man!

  Grimbledung sat at the counter drinking. On his way back to the shoppe, he had stopped at the Fat Blue Moon Tyre and purchased a small keg of ale. Again. He had been sipping it since returning to the shoppe and relieving Drimblerod. “Bored.” He said aloud. “I’m a bored Gnome.”

  Door
opened quickly as an Orc barreled into the shop. “It new month! Got wand.”

  “Here we go again.” Grimbledung sighed. “Do I even need to ask if you found it?”

  “Sure?”

  The pair stared at each other for a long moment. Grimbledung blinked first. “Fine. Did you find it?”

  “Sure.”

  “Was someone holding it while you found it?”

  “Holding what?”

  “The wand.”

  “Troll Lawyers say I no have to answer questions.”

  “You know, I’m not too sure we’re going to be able to do business....”

  “Have wand! It new month!” The Orc leaned over the counter and pointed a thick finger at Grimbledung. “You say you buy wand if new month. I find wand and it new month. So I say have wand and it new month. You say you buy wand if it new month. So I say you buy wand because it new month!” His finger curled in, completing his fist. Again. “SO BUY WAND!”

  “BECAUSE IT NEW MONTH,” Grimbledung shouted, helpfully.

  “Now you get it.” The Orc put the wand on the counter. “Good.”

  “Well that’s some hard to argue with reasoning.” He shrugged. “Fine, fine. Here’s...” Grimbledung noticed that the Orc narrowed his eyes menacingly. “Two copper!” Grimbledung put the coins on the counter. He looked down at the wand. It was a sleek black affair that seemed to have a glow all its own. Grimbledung put his ear close to it. It had a slight hum. “Where’d you find this?”

  “Troll Lawyers say...”

  “Right, right. Listen Mister... ahh...” He raised his eyebrows expectedly.

  The Orc stared at him.

  “What’s your name, Mister Orc?”

  “Oh! I S’Am”

  “Sam?”

  “No. There pause there. PAUSE!” He frowned. “S’Am. You hear pause now?”

  “Is that short for something?” Now he was curious.

  The Orc nodded. But didn’t respond.

  “You’re doing this on purpose aren’t you?”

  “What?”

  “What’s it short for, S’Am?”

  “Sukla’ag Amtaore”

  “That can’t be right. My Orcish is kinda rusty; what’s that mean in Gnomish?”