Authors: Andrew Buckley

Stiltskin (Andrew Buckley) (37 page)

h,” said Robert. “That’s a Screech Demon.”

Lily had explained on their way toward the stables located in the rear of the Wizards’ Council building exactly what a Screech Demon was.

“It’s a demon,” she had said matter-of-factly.

“As in, it came from hell?” asked Robert.

“Not exactly. You interpret it as heaven and hell with a god and a devil. In Thiside, there isn’t a strong perception of an afterlife, but there is a Pit.”

“Which is… like hell?”

“I suppose. But it’s literal rather than figurative.”

“You mean it’s an actual pit?”

“Yes. It’s located very far North of here. It’s a twenty by twenty shaft that goes down to an immeasurable depth.”

“Well, how deep is it?”

“Immeasurably deep,” said Lily in all seriousness.

“So this Pit just sits open and…?”

“No, not open. It’s since been covered with a large trapdoor that can be opened only by magic. Once the first few creatures crawled out of it, the Wizards’ Council had it covered. Every so often something breaks through the trapdoor and it has to be resealed. A pair of Screech Demons broke through around three hundred years ago. Aside from the screeching and the occasional mauling, they were found to be quite amicable and trainable creatures.”

“Mauling?”

“Only when they smell fear.”

“Oh, good, then,” said Robert, the blood slowly draining out of what most would consider to be an already very pale complexion.

They were heading through the wizard’s kitchen where a variety of green, skinny, bald creatures with long fingernails, pointy ears, and vicious-looking teeth were preparing a soufflé.

“Lily,” he whispered. “What are they?”

“Goblins.”

“What are they doing?”

“Looks like they’re making a soufflé.”

“Goblins can make soufflés?”

“Robert, seriously, we have to get rid of those perceptions you’ve grown up with. Goblins are renowned as the best chefs. They look scary but they’re literally born with recipes and culinary concepts running through their heads. You should try some of their cooking; it’s to die for.”

A particularly nasty-looking Goblin with bright eyes and a set of wicked-looking fangs grinned at Robert and nodded politely before it resumed piping decorative icing onto a four-layer cake.

“Weird,” was all Robert could manage. And then they arrived at the stables.

“Oh,” said Robert. “
That’s
a Screech Demon.”

A young wizard with rosy cheeks and a large scar down one side of his face was petting the head of one of the beasts. The Screech Demons were bright yellow in color, with smooth, oily skin and bright red eyes. They looked like a dragon but were the same size as a really large horse. They had a set of wings that they kept furled up on their backs, four strong-looking legs, a long tail on one end and a long neck on the other tipped with a small, spiny head. They looked like something out of a nightmare.

“We’re going to ride those?” asked Robert with clear scepticism, in case anyone missed it.

“This is the ap-ap-ap-prentice wizard Arfund,” said Niggle. “He’s agreed to lend you his S-s-s-screech Demons as long as you p-promise not to d-damage them.”

“They’re sensitive, you see,” said Arfund. “And I’ve raised them since they were eggs. They’re part of the family, really.”

“We’ll take good care of them,” said Lily.

“We’re going to ride those?” said Robert again, because apparently everyone missed it the first time.

“They look quite nice,” said the voice in Robert’s head.

“You shut up.”

“Oh don’t be such a baby.”

“Nothing to do with being a baby, it’s to do with flying on a Screech Demon or, more accurately, falling from a Screech Demon while it’s flying.”

“You’ll be fine,” said Arfund. “We have saddles for them.”

“Oh good!” said Robert abandoning the scepticism and attempting sarcasm, which was also unanimously ignored.

Lily pulled the rock that was Veszico out of her pocket. The rock unfolded itself and a sleepy-looking Fairy stretched herself out in the palm of Lily’s hand.

“Veszico, I need you to find General Gnarly and Gnick. They should be close to the City Gate. Bring them to the ruined Emerald City as fast as possible and be on the lookout for Jack. I don’t have time to explain to you but he’s betrayed us and can’t be trusted, stay away from him!”

The Fairy looked shocked and then angry. She placed her tiny hands on her tiny hips. “I don’t believe it.”

“I don’t have time to argue, I know you liked Jack―”

“You’re lying!”

“We can talk about it later. Go and fetch the Gnomes.”

Veszico took off from Lily’s hand and began to glow bright blue with a hint of red and flew off.

“Angry little thing,” said Robert.

“She’s going to be heartbroken,” said Lily. “She’s always loved Jack.”

“Because they share the same size brain?” said Robert.

Lily smiled and kissed Robert on the cheek.

“I’m happy you’re here, Robert.”

“Scraacchhhhhhaakkk,” screeched the Screech Demon and the sound was piercing. It felt to Robert like a hundred nails on a hundred chalkboards.

“Do they always do that?”

Arfund secured the saddles to his pets. “Only when they’re excited. Or angry, or hungry, or horny.”

“So if it does that at me it’s either really happy to see me, really pissed off to see me, wants to eat more, or wants to hump me?”

“Sounds like you’ve got a solid understanding of Screech Demons, my friend,” said Arfund.

Robert’s nerves were beginning to fray at the prospect of having to mount one of these creatures, and he dearly wished he had a tea pot to hug. Niggle had vanished back to his apartment and Lily was petting the Screech Demon that was already saddled. Its head, which was covered with spikes, swung back and forth as if it couldn’t wait to get off the ground. She climbed onto its back and slid into the saddle. The creature unfurled its wings and flapped excitedly.

“Sccreacchhhhackkkk,” said the Screech Demon and Robert wondered if there was blood coming out of his ears.

“All right,” said Arfund, securing the last strap, “your chariot awaits. Remember, be gentle with the reins and try not to be scared because they’ll just play around with you.”

“Doesn’t sound that horrible,” said Robert.

“And then they’ll eat you.”

“I’ll try and keep the fear in check, then, shall I?”

“That’d be best.”

Robert approached the creature, which stared at him with burning red eyes. It looked unimpressed.

“Just grab the reins here and swing yourself up. They’re mildly telepathic, so they’ll understand what it is you want them to do so try and think nice thoughts.”

Robert was trying not to shake as he swung himself into the saddle. “Nice thoughts, right, got it.”

“Ready?” said Lily.

“Are you kidding?”

“It’s now or never. This is the fastest way to the Emerald City.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll be fine,” said Robert without a shred of confidence.

“Remember,” said Arfund, “nice thoughts!”

“How do I make it go?” asked Robert.

“Just think
up
and hold on.”

“Just think up and―”

“Scraffaaccckkk,” screamed the Demon and launched itself into the air with the most amazing amount of speed. It went up like a firework. The only thing louder than the screeching of the Screech Demon was the screaming of Robert Darkly.

The sun slid itself across the mountains, performing the occasional flip and sometimes a hop before beginning to dip its way toward the horizon. The magic could be heard skittering across the vast green desolation that was the remains of the Emerald City.

The petrified carcass of an Ogre began to shift and jostle and was thrown to the side by a massive Humanimal with a man’s body and the head of a rhino.

Rumpelstiltskin had been door jumping for well over an hour before he got close enough to the ruins that he could walk the rest of the way. On his way, he’d picked up three henchmen whose services he’d bought in trade for wishes. With the Agency so close on his heels, he felt the need for some protection. The rhino Humanimal was named Barflunder and he’d come as a pair with his best friend Crushnut, who was a less distinct Humanimal with a man’s body, legs and arms as thick as tree trunks, but he had the brain of a hamster. Such Humanimals were extremely rare and almost never recognized as Humanimals and were just considered to be slow. The third henchmen, who Rumpelstiltskin now realized to be a bad choice, was a Humanimal who from the waist up was human but from the waist down was an ostrich. His name was Ian and he was always in a hurry.

“So what’s all this about anyway?” growled Barflunder menacingly, as he knew no other way to growl.

“None of your business!” said Rumpelstiltskin.

“Buuhhhh,” began Crushnut and then lost his train of thought.

“You’ll have to excuse Crushnut,” said Barflunder, “he has trouble keeping track of his thoughts.”

“Come on, you lot!” shouted Ian, who was jumping over rubble and prancing ahead with the grace of an over-happy gazelle.

“What’s in the sack then?” asked Barflunder.

“None of your business,” snapped the Dwarf.

“Rouuuuuu,” said Crushnut.

“That’s right, Crushnut, smells funny, doesn’t it?” said Barflunder and snorted.

“It’s a dead witch. Happy now?” snapped the Dwarf and stormed past the oversized pair.

“Blarrrr,” said Crushnut.

“He is touchy, isn’t he?” said Blarfunder.

The group stopped somewhere around the middle of the ruined city in the same courtyard that Robert had stood in earlier that day. Ian had overshot the courtyard by at least a mile and Rumpelstiltskin was content just to let him go.

“All right, you two, keep a look out.”

“Look out for what?” asked Blarfunder.

“For Agents.”

“You never said anything about Agents. Agents are dangerous!”

“Nalgggg,” agreed Crushnut, who was idly crushing rocks using his forehead.

“Big fellahs like you, scared of Agents?” said Rumpelstiltskin with feigned surprise.

“Well no, not scared, just, ya know, wary. I met the Director of the Agency once. Bloody scary, that one. Not someone to trifle with.”

“I highly doubt anyone is going to come here, but you two―”

“Three!” shouted Ian as he ran over a pile of rubble and skidded to a halt in the courtyard. “What are we doing now?”

“Like I was saying, you three keep guard on the edges of the courtyard.”

“Why on the edges? You’re not going to do anything funny with that dead witch, are you?” asked Blarfunder.

“Dead witch? Who has a dead witch?” said Ian.

“That what he’s got in the bag, a dead witch, told us so himself.”

Rumpelstiltskin rubbed his temples. He remembered henchmen being much simpler back in the day. They followed orders without question. Now they wanted to know everything.

The Dwarf walked over to what looked like a ruined storage shed and struggled with the door, which stubbornly refused to move an inch.

“You, Rhino head, come over here,” said Rumpelstiltskin. When there was no sign of movement, the Dwarf looked over to see Blarfunder standing with his large arms firmly crossed.

“I don’t appreciate the derogatory term,” said Blarfunder, sounding insulted.

“But you have the head of a rhino.”

“Maybe I’m a rhino but have the body of a human. Ever thought of that?”

“Well…”

“It’s insulting, is what it is. It’s not like you’d say
you, human body, come over here
.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“You humans are all racists against us Humanimals.”

“But I’m not a human either. I’m a Dwarf!”

“Hardly a minority, though, are you?”

“What?”

“Well, there’s thousands of you Dwarves, only a few hundred Humanimals, though.”

“Look, I’m in a bit of a hurry,” said the Dwarf. “How do I make this up to you?”