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

by Robert P. Wills

  Taken aback, Nulu repeated: “I’ll have you know that Mantodea seems completely balanced?”

  “Mantodea Hesperus?”

  “Well, yes. How did you…”

  “Real top-heavy, if you know what I mean?” Akita gestured with his paws in case there was any confusion. “And a knockout?”

  “How romantic,” Maca remarked.

  Akita ignored her. “Nulu?”

  “That does actually describe her. How’d you know?”

  “Is she alone?”

  “She’s with the Gnomes.”

  Akita shook his head as he stood. “Is there a second female?”

  “Well, there is actually.” Nulu looked worried.

  So did Maca.

  “Brigitte? Laurita?”

  “Bextra.”

  “So there’s a new one.” He looked at Maca. “I have to go. Official duties.”

  “What?” Asked Maca. Worried her dinner plans were being ruined.

  “She’s a black widow. She’s responsible for the disappearances of at least twelve males of various races. Then she takes over the businesses, sells off the inventory, then moves on. I heard she might be out in my territory couple’a weeks ago.”

  “At least?” Asked Maca. Worried the two Gnomes’ lives were being ruined.

  “Twelve that we know of,” he added ominously. “I imagine those victims with no other family don’t always get reported.”

  “How do you...” Began Nulu. But it was too late; Akita moved to the curtain. “But...” He ducked under it at almost a run. Nulu looked at Maca. “But...”

  Maca smirked. “So for our second date, how about we get one of your hourlies?”

  Nulu gaped.

  Maca waved her hand dismissively. “Ah well. The hazards of being involved with a lawman, right?” She gestured to the now-empty seat. “Want to partake? I hear the wine is excellent.”

  “What’s the point of being the boss if you don’t get to slack off once and a while?” Nulu eased into the chair. “I think my shift is officially over.”

  Right before this...

  Chapter 30

  The Gnomes and the Restless (Dwarfesses)

  Mantodea and Bextra stood across the street as the young Gnomess came out of the wand shop. They watched her as she pulled a bottle of wine out of her backpack, uncork it, take a swig, then leave.

  “There’s the wine we knew was coming.”

  Bextra nodded. “Wonder how much they’re going to try and put in us.”

  “That’s not what I’m concerned about them trying to put in us.”

  Bextra glanced at her partner in crime. “So what’s the plan then?” She was a new partner of Mantodea and this was her first job with her. She was familiar with the overall plan, since she had been working a very similar scheme solo for the better part of ten years. Albeit without the murder; hers was an ‘infiltrate, rob blind, extricate’ kind of scheme. A chance meeting with Mantodea had made them partners. In the very near future Mantodea had promised, they would be very lucrative partners. “We going to avoid drinking anything?”

  Mantodea shook her head. “Nope. We’re going to put away as much alcohol as they’ll give us.” She reached into her purse, pulling out a small vial. She unstopped it and took a quick sip. She offered it to her partner. “This takes away all the effects of alcohol.”

  “Well, that’s easier than pouring it out when no one’s looking.” She smelled the potion. It smelled like an old sewer. That was used by Ogres. After the Orcs had finally decided it smelled too bad for even them. “I think.” She took a hesitant sip of the pungent potion. She gasped for air as it ran down her throat. “What’s in it?”

  “Don’t ask.” She put the potion back in her purse. “The most important thing to remember is...”

  “This isn’t my first gig, you know,” said Bextra between breaths. Whatever was in the potion was attempting to make a sudden reappearance.

  Mantodea turned to look at the Dwarfess. “Let’s go meet our targets and stay focused on what we’re trying to do here.”

  Bextra snickered. “Those fools think we’re the targets.” She was still uneasy about actually killing someone- even someone as annoying at Grimbledung. Or Drimblerod, for that matter. She hoped Mantodea would handle that part. “So what was that most...”

  “Just keep Grimbledung under control.” Mantodea interrupted her as she swapped her purse to her other arm. “And keep drinks going into them as much as they try to put into us.”

  “So we get rid of them tonight, then?”

  “If I have to see that Gnome waggle his ears at me one more time...”

  “Or grope me with his eyes.”

  With a nod at each other, the two determined females made for the shoppe. When they got to the door, it remained closed, forcing them to skid to a halt. “This thing will be the first to get sold off,” remarked Mantodea as she knocked loudly.

  Door, having heard the entire conversation the two females just had in the street, stayed latched.

  Mantodea tried the door again. It remained locked. She shook the handle furiously. “Stupid door.”

  Grimbledung came bounding to Door. “Let them in, Door. They’re here to see us, you know.”

  Door rattled its catch at the Gnome, but didn’t unlock.

  “What’s gotten into you?”

  Mantodea knocked again. Angrily.

  “Door! Let them in!” Grimbledung wrestled with the latch but it stayed engaged. “Drim! Door’s gone off its hinges!” Grimbledung waggled his ears. “Metaphorically speaking, that is,” he said to no one in particular.

  Drimblerod came down the stairs. “What’s going on? Can’t you even handle something as simple as letting in those two females without some sort of drama?” He shook his head. “Stupidity, I have seen thy face.”

  Grimbledung wheeled around, furious. “Now hold on right there! I can good and well open and close doors and have been able to for centuries. Windows too!”

  Mantodea kicked Door. Repeatedly.

  “Then why are they still outside?”

  “Because YOUR stupid door won’t open!”

  “My door?”

  “Well, YOU made it!”

  Bextra peeked into the shoppe “Those two are going to go to blows”. She glanced at her partner. “We might have to postpone this.”

  Mantodea looked out at the street. It was quiet. “We can give them a little time to figure out whatever they are trying to do.” She glanced at the door. “Opening a latch, maybe. But if people start to take notice, we’ll leave.”

  “Right.” Bextra turned to face the street. “I’ll keep an eye out. Try to see what those fools are doing and maybe help them along.”

  Mantodea kicked the door again. She cleared her throat and said sweetly. “I thought we were meeting tonight. Are we going to do it face to face?” Inside she could hear the two Gnomes shouting at each other at the tops of their lungs. She was surprised half the town hadn’t shown up because of the ruckus. Unknown to the Dwarfess, the shouting matches had become so commonplace, that no one gave them a second look anymore. In all actuality, the nearby residents were happy that it was happening behind the closed doors of Second-Hand Sorcery this time, instead of out in the street as was often the case. With Grimbledung naked.

  “So why don’t YOU get YOUR door to open mister smart trousers?” Countered Grimbledung. He pointed at the door. “Have at it.” He waved his wand around menacingly. “Before I blast it out of existence!”

  Drimblerod shoved his partner out of the way and stood in front of Door. “Door. Open up and let those females in,” he ordered.

  Door rattled its latch but didn’t unlock.

  “What’s gotten into you? You let everyone in!” Grimbledung sheathed his wand, then pushed his hair back into place. “Honestly! Orcs, Trolls, vagabonds; anybody and everybody just traipses right through. You even let thieves in.” He considered that for a moment. “Well, the first time anyway. But once you know
who they are...”

  Door rattled its latch.

  “Wait a second,” interrupted Drimblerod. “Are you saying they’re thieves, Door?”

  Door rattled its latch. Hard.

  Drimblerod looked at his partner. “I told you there was something off about them two.”

  “Well, I didn’t get my hair done for nothing,” said Grimbledung. He slicked back his hair again. “Forewarned is an early riser who is healthy, wealthy and wise.”

  “That’s not exactly that saying,” said Drimblerod. “But you’re right either way.” He turned back to Door. “Okay Door. We got it. These two are dangerous...”

  Door rattled its latch. It was quite upset at this point that it only had a latch to rattle. It decided then and there that it would let Dummy know it wanted a knocker installed so it would have a second means of communication. Door hoped that having arms, Dummy would be able to relay the message with no trouble at all. As it would work out, the entire event would end up being an on-again, off-again, daylong, heated game of charades between Dummy and Grimbledung that would end up with Door getting a new coat of paint. In red this time. But no knocker. Door would not be pleased by either event and would spend the remainder of the week sulking and forcing people to open it themselves.[18]

  “... so we’ll be on our guard...”

  “We’ve already bought precautions.” Grimbledung waggled his ears. “Right?”

  “... so let them in and we’ll be careful.” Drimblerod patted Door. “Thanks for looking out for us.”

  Door unlatched its latch.

  “We’re in,” said Mantodea. She grabbed her partner on the shoulder to turn her around. “Get your game face on because we are going to finish this. Tonight.”

  Drimblerod took a deep breath. “Fine then. Let’s get this show rolling.” He pulled open Door. “Good evening ladies,” he said. “Sorry about that. Door here decided he was going to have a little sport with you is all. He’s playful that way.” He patted the Door. “There’s no hard feelings.”

  “Not yet anyway,” remarked Grimbledung from inside the shop. “But there’s stirrings.”

  Drimblerod tried in vain to kick his partner but he was out of reach. “Please come in, ladies.” He gave a short bow and gestured into the shop.

  Mantodea and Bextra entered the shop with smiles on their faces. “That’s some fun game your door plays,” said Mantodea.

  “You should try it for a few rounds of ‘open or shut’. You only need the edge of your seat for that game, I must say!”

  Drimblerod glanced at his partner. “In any case. Welcome to Second-Hand Sorcery.” He spread his hands out wide. “The most successful wand shoppe this side of Picistan.”

  Bextra sniffed. “Smells like there’s some cheese and meats hiding out someplace.” She still had the acrid taste of the anti-alcohol potion in her mouth. “That’s not from previously in the day, is it?” She pouted.

  “Not at all!” Grimbledung hopped up and down. “We’ve got a whole platter of cheese and meats that’s brand new!” He pointed at the stairs. “Up yonder.”

  Bextra started toward the stairs.

  “But first I thought we’d give a quick tour,” suggested Drimblerod.

  Mantodea smiled. “That sounds nice. A quick tour, then we go have an evening snack.” She raised a perfect eyebrow at the Gnome. “And a drink perhaps?”

  “That too! That too!” Grimbledung hopped again. He reached out and snatched Bextra by the hand and yanked her to him. “On with the tour, Drimblerod!” He smiled at Bextra, “I always like tours. You learn so much from them.” He looked around the shop. “It’ll be neat to see the workings of such a famous and successful wand shoppe, right?”

  Bextra gaped at Grimbledung. “You work here too, though.”

  “Sure, but I’ve never been on a tour,” Grimbledung shoved her. “Silly.” He stuck out his tongue. “It’ll probably end at the gift shop. Most tours do.”

  Mantodea shook her head. She was looking forward to killing this particular Gnome more than anyone else she had killed. She hooked her arm through Drimblerod’s. “Let’s get this over with then.”

  “Lead the way Drim!”

  Drimblerod nodded at his partner. “Well, we have a nice open-shopping space here at the front of the shoppe.” He gestured around. “Plenty of wall space for our varied and exotic inventory.” He pointed at the counter. “The more dangerous wands go here under the glass at the counter where we can keep a closer eye on them.”

  “That’s a lot of wands you have out,” said Mantodea. “So you keep your entire inventory on display?”

  Drimblerod shook his head. “No, not really. We have at least half again as many wands back in storage for the more common, and better selling wands.” He pointed at the back room. “The ones under the counter are Ooks, so we try to keep them all out if there’s space. Because you never know what someone’ll be interested in.”

  “Ooks?” Asked Bextra.

  “One of a kinds.” Said Grimbledung with a wink.

  Drimblerod nodded. “Yes. So unless we have several that have the same attributes, we try to keep them all out so people can choose from a wide variety of wands.”

  Bextra smacked her lips. The taste didn’t seem to be dissipating. “So can we see the back room?” She asked, hoping to get the tour finished. “Or is that too secretive?”

  Drimblerod smiled. “No, no. We’ll go there next.” He was let down because he had a good thirty minute spiel planned for the front of the shop. Anticipation for beautiful females notwithstanding, he was proud of his business. “Let’s go there, then.” He pointed at the curtain. “Follow me.”

  Drimblerod ducked under the curtain, followed closely by Mantodea. Grimbledung was looking up at the ceiling.

  “Aren’t we going?” Bextra asked, expecting the Gnome to make a pass at her since he had lagged behind.

  “Mortise and joint construction up there.” He gave the Dwarfess a wink. “High workmanship, that.”

  “Sure?” She answered, still expecting a groping of some sort.

  Grimbledung waggled his ears. “Wait’ll you see the bedroom upstairs...”

  Here it comes, thought Bextra, this stinking Gnome is going to make a pass at his partner’s would-be girlfriend. “Yes?”

  “It’s all tongue and groove, pegged together. Quality stuff.”

  “Sure?”

  “Grimbledung!” Drimblerod yelled from the back room. “Get back here!”

  Grimbledung let go of Bextra’s arm and jogged through the curtain. “What’s going on Drim?”

  Drimblerod stared at his partner. “I’m giving a tour.”

  “I know.”

  “To the ladies.”

  “Yep.”

  Drimblerod stared at Grimbledung.

  Grimbledung stared at Drimblerod.

  “Where’s Bextra, Grim?”

  “Yaaa!” Grimbledung did a little hop. He turned and charged through the curtain as Mantodea was coming through from the other way. Since his head was down, he hit her with it in the middle of her chest, knocking her onto her back. He landed on top of her.

  “I swear on the heads of all my ancestors,” began Bextra as Grimbledung pushed himself up to look at her face. “If you don’t get your hands off my breasts...”

  “Yaaa!”

  Bextra stared at Grimbledung.

  Grimbledung grinned at Bextra. “Didn’t see you coming?” He tried.

  Bextra grabbed Grimbledung by the shoulders and rolled him off her. She got to her feet and stifled the urge to kick him in the head.

  “Sorry about that, really,” he said as he got to his feet. “I forgot you for a moment back there so I was coming back to get you because Drimblerod said he was giving a tour and you haven’t been on this tour and even though I haven’t been on this tour either I figured you wanted to see what was coming next so I came back to get you when I accidentally forgot you but by then you were coming here to get the second part of th
e tour.”

  Bextra now looked forward to killing Grimbledung.

  Grimbledung waggled his ears. “Right?”

  “Bextra, if you’re all right, we’ll get back on track,” offered Drimblerod.

  Bextra nodded at Drimblerod. “That’d be nice.” She smacked her lips. Alarmingly, they now felt numb. “Then we can get that drink and something to eat.”

  “That sounds good to me,” said Mantodea. “On with the tour Drimblerod.” She gestured at him amicably.

  Drimblerod cleared his throat. “So the backroom here is where we do our wand repairs and such.”

  “And such?”

  “Well, we also make custom wands or adjust the enchantments of them if necessary,” he said to Bextra. “Technical stuff, and sometimes dangerous.”

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

  Grimbledung pointed at Dummy. “And to help with testing and sorting of wands, we have this jousting dummy that Drim whipped up with an Mechanimation Spell.”

  Drimblerod pursed his lips. He was planning on a more elaborate description.

  Dummy gave a salute as he appraised the two females. He made an hourglass shape with his hands, then gave a thumbs up.

  “I see the turnip doesn’t grow far from the stalk.”

  Grimbledung shoved Mantodea. “Right? That makes them easier to pick!”

  Dummy nodded. Because that was true.

  “That’s not what I meant.” Mantodea hooked her arm through Grimbledung’s and led him to the worktable. Bextra now seemed to be discussing the soon-to-be-set-afire jousting dummy with Drimblerod, so she felt it was time to make her pitch. If she could keep Grimbledung’s attention that long. “This is a really nice shop you have, Grimbledung.” Mantodea gave her best smile. “There’s only one thing you’re missing.”

  Grimbledung rubbed his hand on the worktable. “Pegged together you know. Tongue and groove; it’s a riot of fine craftsmanship, this.” He looked at Mantodea. “What’s that?”

  “Female folk, of course.”

  “Well, I’m pretty sure Dummy’s a male...” Grimbledung gave Dummy a wave. “Male, right?”