Puck made a wrapping gesture with his hand, grinning with mischievous delight. "Well done! Oh, well done! You will be a most excellent subject for my jests! Nay, go on! Do ask for more!"
Matt had the uncomfortable feeling that he had just set himself up as the straight man in a permanent, ongoing vaudeville routine. "Well, actually, we called you to help us against some demons."
"Demons?" Puck's smile turned to gloating. "Why, ever do I rejoice in countering those great chunks of evil! Nay, if you can find them for me, unleash me!"
"You have fought demons before?" Yverne asked, wide-eyed.
Puck gave her a quick look of appraisal and grinned at what he saw. "For you, fair maid, I would fight devils incarnate!"
"That's exactly what we were hoping for, on a minor scale," Matt interrupted. "You see, we're trying to get a chance to fight an evil sorcerer, but he's trying to make sure we don't get close enough. Last night, he sicced a score or two of gargoyles on us."
"Gargoyles?" Puck looked up, startled. "Why, what had you to fear from stone? It cannot turn to smite you!"
"Eppur si muove, " Matt quoted. "And these ones really did move. They waddled, mind you, not galloped—but they still moved a lot faster than I would have thought they could have. And they had steel teeth, which they were very eager to use."
"Ah, those demons whom your sculptors saw in visions dread and rendered in stone to hang up high above your head! 'Twould be reason enough never to go into a church. But how stood you against them?"
"We were lucky enough to find this shrine to Saint Iago. It's still consecrated, you see, and..."
He didn't finish. With an ear-splitting screech, Puck disappeared.
He reappeared a moment later, outside the gateway, mad and hopping. "You fool, you idiot, you blind ass! Have you no better wit than to bring one of the elvin kind into a Christian holy place? Did you wish to see me shrivel in agony?" He leveled a forefinger. "Let us see if your appearance can accord with your..."
Under the circumstances, Matt was very glad the nearest gargoyle chose that moment to explode from the ground in a cloud of dirt.
Puck heard the noise and whirled to see the monster leaping straight for him, claws widespread, steel teeth reaching. The elf disappeared in a flash of light, and as the gargoyle jarred to land, looking about, befuddled and enraged, Puck appeared again at the monster's tail. He grabbed with both hands and pinched.
Matt wouldn't have thought someone so small could pinch so hard.
The gargoyle roared and reared up, whipping about to snap up the miniscule being who dared affront it—but the being had hopped backward far enough for another gargoyle to explode from the earth. The first one got there just in time to clamp its jaws down on the second. With a bellow, the second turned to bite at the first and took a chunk of granite out of its flinty hide.
But Puck had jumped backward again, triggering a third eruption of gargoyle, then danced toward the first two, who were snapping and clawing at each other like a quarry gone mad. The third leaped, Puck disappeared, and the third slammed teeth-first into the tumble of two—both of whom leaped on the interloper. But a fourth was rumbling out of the ground, to see Puck seated on the third's tail. The fourth snapped up Puck—and took a chunk out of its neighbor. The third whirled to snap out, bringing the first two along.
"Oh, the brave elf!" Yverne cried. "He is lost!"
Matt must have gone insane for a second, because he plunged out through the gateway. Fadecourt and Narlh both shouted and dived to catch him, but before he could go more than one step, Puck reappeared on the outside of the snarling, roaring ball, just as it rolled back into the living mine field. Other gargoyles launched themselves from their improvised silos, thundering with blood lust, and Puck disappeared as they plunged into the sphere of disaster. As the ball rolled, more and more gargoyles came out to slay, and wound up trapped in the round of biting and revenging.
Puck appeared on top of Matt's head, dancing and pantomiming punches as he cried, "Slay him, Stoneface! Gouge at him, Granite! Bite at him, Basalt! Aye, hew, gobble, chew, gorge, gnaw, gulp, and bite through!"
"I think they're all in there." Narlh stared in disbelief.
"But," Fadecourt protested, "how can they hurt one another? They are all of stone!"
"Yes," Matt said, "but they all have steel teeth."
Puck disappeared from Matt's head, appeared above the churning battle, then reappeared atop Matt, saying, "All gargoyles are indeed within the fray, and they fray one another quite well. Aye, they have chopped and ground several of the smaller into pebbles already!"
Yverne shuddered. "Praise Heaven we were not caught by them!"
Puck winced. "Mercy, lady! And pray be mindful who has wrought this coil!"
"The ball's getting smaller," Matt pointed out. "I think they've chewed up the medium-size ones now."
Puck popped over above the whirling mass of stone again, then popped back to Matt's crown. "Only the largest and ugliest remain, and they are chewing into one another at a most excellent rate! Why, one would think they had ne'er been fed in their lives!"
The ball grew smaller and smaller, until finally, they could distinguish separate monsters again—but there were only two, with vastly distended bellies, each chewing on the other's tail, each bite taking up more and more. They roared and shrieked and bellowed with each bite, but one gobbled faster than the other, devouring its hind legs, abdomen, chest, and forelegs, then chewed up its head and spit out the teeth. But it couldn't stop; it kept going, past where its enemies' jaws had been fastened into its own flinty hide, chewing and grinding in a roaring rage, grating its own substance until it expired in gravel, leaving nothing but a set of steel teeth that rolled on the ground, gnashing and snapping.
Puck appeared above it, making shooing motions. Then he reappeared on Matt's head, saying, "Its erstwhile foe's teeth also remain. Shall we see their fond embrace?"
There wasn't much choice; he had started the one set of snapping teeth rolling in the right direction, and it kept on rolling until it bumped into the other set of animated dentures. Then they clashed and slashed and chopped at each other until both were shredded into scrap. Even the bits and pieces still jumped about, slamming into each other.
Puck hopped down to Matt's shoulder, set his arms akimbo, and demanded, "Now, what did you wish me to do with these monstrosities?"
"Uh..." Matt could only stare at the barren, churned-up ground before him, strewn with bits and fragments of stone that might just possibly have been recognizable as parts of monsters, if he had looked really closely—which he had no intention of doing.
"Well, put them out of their misery, Wizard!" the elf snapped. "Can you not give these bits of iron their quietus?"
Matt snapped out of it. "Yeah, sure!
"Double, double, toil, and trouble!
Furnace heat, make steel scrap bubble!"
It wasn't much, but it served the purpose. The bits of steel turned red, then yellow, then white, and flowed together into a huge, quivering droplet. Matt could feel a blast of heat; then the bubble was melting its way down underground. Matt could have just let it keep going until it hit the molten nickel-iron core of the planet, of course, but he didn't relish the volcano that would result, so he quickly recited an advertising jingle for a deep-freeze company, and the steam stopped rising from the hole. Matt decided he'd wait for a little while, then kick the dirt in.
Puck was giving him an appraising look. "Well done, Wizard! You are no inept apprentice to this craft, I see!"
"Not as good as I should be." Matt swallowed.
"We must not leave the detritus of evil so close by the holy shrine." Fadecourt sounded numb, but he stepped out through the gateway anyway.
"No, wait!" Matt stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "I don't trust that gravel. Let me see if I can't do this a little more efficiently."
Fadecourt stopped, looking up at him in inquiry, but Matt didn't notice. He frowned out at the mass of detr
itus, thinking over his verses.
"Out of the pebble-strewn days
Let us all seek smoother ways,
May these fragments that
Once were like sand on a shore
Be gone, and trouble us all
Nevermore!"
The mass of pebbles glimmered, wavered, and was gone.
Matt exhaled a sigh of relief.
"Where have they gone, Lord Wizard?" Yverne asked, eyes wide.
"Back where they came from, I hope—whether it be a rock quarry, or someplace more sinister." Then Matt managed to smile as he turned his head to look at the manikin on his shoulder—out of the corner of his eye was the best he could do—and was glad that it turned into a real smile of relief and gratitude. "Thank you with all my goodwill, Hop o' My Thumb! That, I certainly could not have done without you!"
"It was my pleasure." Puck grinned, eyes glinting with delight. "What game would you have me play next?"
Malt's smile vanished. "Well, uh—now that you mention it, that was the only problem facing us at the moment."
Puck's face clouded. "You dared summon me for only one easily solved chore?"
Matt suddenly became aware, all over again, of the spirit's ability to wreak massive havoc simply in the process of having a good time. "Well, uh—yes, actually. You see, it was something we couldn't handle alone, and..."
"And would I have the courtesy to quietly fade from sight, now that you no longer have need of me?" The elf's eyes narrowed. "I think not, Wizard! Know that we faerie-folk always claim what's owed us."
"Uh...well, yes, I know I owe you a lot of thanks, but..."
" 'Tis more than thanks," Puck said with a wolfish grin. "Know that, when you accept aid from one such as I, you do incur an obligation to us—and we husband our resources; we stay hard by you, seen or unseen, until you've done by us as we've done by you."
Matt groaned. "Meaning that, unless I get a chance to save you from as much grief as you've just spared us, that you're my permanent companion?"
"Till debt do us part—or its discharge, at least. Yet I, more than any other sprite, grow restless in boredom. You must find occupation for me, Wizard—and if you can find no better diversion for me, I shall have to find my pleasure in tormenting you!"
Matt swallowed heavily, frantically trying to think of a way out.
It was Yverne who found it. "Can you not be patient for a short while? For surely King Gordogrosso will find new terrors to set upon us, and right soon."
"Yes!" Matt agreed with vehemence. "Now that he's finally taking us seriously enough to notice us, we'll probably have one monster after another to fight. At least one a day!"
Puck pursed his lips around a smile, eyeing Matt and considering." 'Tis a better offer than I've had this last hundred years..."
"Take it, I prithee!" Yverne begged. "We shall have need of you right soon, I doubt not—and we would be so very wearied of staying within this shrine, for dread of you."
That decided the issue; Puck's smile disappeared as he glanced up at the statue of the saint, then quickly glanced away. When he looked back, his impish grin had spread across his face again. "Well, since it is a beautiful damsel who doth ask it of me, and a virgin to boot, with all the powers of enchantment that brings..."
Matt tried not to look surprised. He had wondered if a grown woman could be a virgin in Ibile, but Puck had just settled the issue. Considering the elf's earthy connections, he didn't think Hop 'o My Thumb could be wrong about such a thing.
"I shall travel with you!" Puck said magnanimously, then quickly held up a palm, modestly closing his eyes. "Nay, do not thank me—I shall be glad to aid you. Only find work for me, or..." He gave Matt a keen look. "I shall find my own amusements."
Matt didn't have to ask who would be the butt of the elf's humor. But he made himself smile anyway, and beckoned his friends out of the shrine. He turned back to Puck with a smile of welcome, feeling as though he had just tucked a nuclear bomb into his pocket. He promised himself that he would never ask Puck for another favor—owing him one was bad enough.
CHAPTER 16
Goblins in Bondage
Matt checked to make sure his wand was stuck in his belt, then turned back to his companions. "Okay—sun's up. Let's..."
"Shh!" Narlh glowered at him, then turned back toward the shrine, bowing his head.
Matt's voice trailed off; he saw Yverne kneeling at the railing of the shrine, head bowed in prayer. Fadecourt came up silently and knelt on the other side of the gateway.
"What holds you?" Puck demanded, arms akimbo. "Let us be off! The night will come too soon, and with it, the spirits of evil!"
Narlh gave him a glare. "We're thanking the one who protected us from the monsters."
"Why, thanks are welcome, though the victory cost me little effort! But I hear you not."
"They're thanking Saint Iago," Matt explained. "We wouldn't have been alive to call you, if he hadn't kept the gargoyles out of his shrine."
But Puck had already shied away at the mention of the saint. "Wizard, please! Have a care for my ears!"
"He should have a care for his allies," Narlh snorted. "What's the matter, Wizard—think you're too good to give credit where it's due?"
Matt balked; praying at statues ran against his grain. In fact, praying to anything had kind of disgusted him, ever since he'd learned about the development of religion in his freshman college courses.
On the other hand, that attitude had softened a bit, since he'd been in Merovence...
"Kind of hard to take credit, under the circumstances, isn't it?" He sighed. "And calling it `coincidence' is stretching things a bit—here. Sure, Narlh, I'll pitch in." He went back to the gateway.
Yverne and Fadecourt looked up in expectation from either side.
So this had to be a public spectacle, did it?
Of course—he was the leader.
Since when? He didn't remember standing for election. Since he came to Ibile. The whole expedition was his idea. Admittedly, an idea hatched in a moment of very dubious inspiration, but his own, nonetheless. He took a deep breath, looked up at the tranquil face above him, then reminded himself that the statue wasn't the saint, but only a reminder of him. Deliberately, Matt turned his eyes up to the sky. "I thank you, Saint Iago, for your protection and aid. I thank you with all my heart and pray you'll ever be with me!"
The shrine was awfully quiet.
Then Narlh sniffed. "Kinda cheap, isn't he?"
Matt turned, frowning. "What do you mean? Saints don't want bribes."
"Of course not," Fadecourt said slowly, "but it might be polite to at least indicate willingness to return the favor."
Matt frowned at him while his meaning percolated in. Then he sighed and turned away, calling out, "Stand by me, Saint Iago, while I do all that I can to save Ibile! Only guide me, and protect me, and show me the way to God that you have already followed!"
And, of course, that meant he was even more tightly bound to do or die than he'd already been.
Matt set a hard pace that day—Narlh had to stretch his legs to keep up with his demands, and started grumbling even earlier than usual, about noon. Matt called a halt for lunch then, somewhat against his will. As they finished off the leftovers from two nights before, Fadecourt asked, "Wherefore your haste, Lord Wizard? Have a care for the damsel."
Matt looked up at Yverne, startled. "I'm sorry, milady. Since Narlh's giving us a ride, I thought—"
"Rightly." She cut him off with a weary smile. "And, truly, you must be far more wearied than I."
Matt frowned, his brain clicking over. "But even a saddle can be tiring, right?"
"I am accustomed to riding," she assured him, "and we have matters of greater moment than comfort."
"Yes. Kind of what I was thinking, too." But Matt frowned, brooding. "I want to move as fast as I can, now that the King seems to have found us. Once he has us spotted and analyzed—"
"Any lies?" Narlh frowned. "Sure, I kno
w he'll lie every chance he gets, but what's that got to do with you?"
"No, 'analyzed'—meaning he has challenged me, tested me, found out some idea of how much magic I can do and can't."
"You do mean he has taken your measure," Fadecourt interpreted.
"In a manner of speaking—and I'm hoping the spells he's knitting will be a bad fit. But now that he does have some idea of my magical strengths and weaknesses, and what kind of allies I have, he'll probably be doing everything he can to make things tough for us. So the longer we take getting to Orlequedrille, the more chances he has to eliminate us before we can do any damage—and the more time he has to prepare his defense."
Fadecourt almost choked on his cup of water. Wheezing, he looked up at Matt. "Wizard, what defense has he need or. Even if we came to his castle this instant, what could we do?"
"I don't know yet," Matt admitted, "but there must be something, or he wouldn't be trying to stop us."
"There is truth in that," Yverne agreed. "Yet he is quite likely to smite you simply because you are not evil—but even more likely to strike, because you have saved me from his minions. Worse, you now keep me safe from him. Nay, gentlemen, surely 'twould be the course of wisdom to—"
"We would not think of it," Fadecourt cut her off.
Matt nodded. "Don't you think of it, either, milady. Please."
"We're all together on this," Narlh growled. "Besides, he'd strike us out of sheer revenge, milady."
"That's decided, then," Matt said quickly, giving Yverne no chance to interrupt.
Puck appeared in the middle of their circle. "Not so quickly, mortal! I have not spoken yet!"
Matt eyed him askance. "You really feel the need to?"
Puck took a breath.
"On this topic, I mean!"
Puck deflated. "Nay. You cannot abandon the maiden."
Yverne dimpled.
Matt took it as a sign of acceptance. "Fine, then. I do wonder, though, why Gordogrosso isn't causing us any more trouble. I mean, now that he's found out where we are..."
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