CHAPTER 4

ALHANNAH

Friendship is a special thing.

A true friend is also rare to find.

If and when you DO find a true friend, make sure you protect that relationship with integrity.

You’ll have problems, challenges and even hardships over time, yes.

But when your friends can rely on who you are, and on your character, a bond can be grown stronger than blood…stronger than death.

I speak from experience.

Chuck kept shaking his head.

“What?” Wendell sighed. “What did I do now?”

“SOMEbody got up on the wrong side of the bed today! Sucking too many sour grapefruits this morning, sunshine?” the wizard teased. “I’ve rarely seen a blueberry turn red.”

“What?”

“Your directness with the High Elder and refusing his request isn’t something he’s used to, son.”

You keep ticking people off, Wendell. You’ve got to stop.

“I’m sorry, Chuck, I…”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Chuck beamed, “I’m on your side, my boy. You did the right thing.”

Wendell skidded to a halt. “You…agree with me refusing to meet with the Iskari High Council?”

“Ahh,” the mägo grinned, tapping Wendell’s chest with his cane, “I agree with you taking full responsibility for yourself, not skipping out on their meeting.” Spinning on his sandal, Chuck motioned for Lili to proceed ahead of him, “Life, conflict, the growing tensions between the races—none of it stopped just because life got hard for us and swept us away to foreign lands, my boy. There’s nearly a year of backlog of information waiting for us.”

“Yeah, I—wait, most of a year?!? In Clockworks?”

Chuck nodded and pulled back the wrapping on his beef jerky treat, “Yup. Just over eight months if I counted right. Took us a while to get you out of the clutches of Noah.” Chewing up the dehydrated goodness, he swallowed, “But I was going to say that you’ll attract a lot of trouble with that attitude. We’re walking into the market and these fellows need a guiding hand.” Glancing over at Vin, Tabbermain, Enid and Doddle stumble out the front door to the cottage, they watched each trying to fix their wrinkled clothing to look more presentable.

Lili ran over to assist them.

Elder Käshen closed the door behind them, running fingers through his thinning hair.

Chuck sighed. “Ahhhh, the crew of misfits.”

“You’re one to talk,” Wendell chimed back, trying to hold his smile in check. “You’ve been wearing the same dingy robes since I got here.”

“I see,” Chuck nodded. “You want to get personal, now, do you?” With one swift movement, the cane bounced up from the ground, pivoted in the mägo’s palm and jabbed Wendell squarely in the stomach.

“Ow!”

“You stick out like a sore thumb…smashed and purple…with a nail through it and a FLAG hanging off the end!”

Wendell gulped.

Leaning in, Chuck lowered his tone a few notches, blue eyes burning, “So unless you want to look the part of the village idiot, I’d like to help you,…you ungrateful child.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Excuse me? Did I hear you say something, young man?”

Wendell winced, “I said I’m sorry, Chuck.”

“What was that?”

“I’m SORRY!”

Chuck smirked, content. “Apology accepted. Now stop acting like a turd.”

Wendell chuckled. “I’ll try.”

“Do or do not, there is no….wait, that’s probably copyrighted. Never mind.”

He scratched his head, staring intently at the old man. “I’m serious, Chuck—one of these days, you have got to tell me how you know so much of Earth’s culture.”

The grin he got was that of a fox.

Not the fox that got away with a chicken, but the one who just got away with all the chickens, the hen house,…and the fencing AROUND the hen house, then sent the farmer a bill for his services.

“Well it DOES say In A Galaxy Far Far Away…doesn’t it?” He cleared his throat with a cough and a rumble, “Now about your outfit—I know you like it, son, but really, you do stick out. I think you should change into something more fitting.”

Wendell sighed, “This is all I have, remember? We bought three sets of the same stuff. Not a lot of variety. Besides, what’s wrong with this? I love jeans, t-shirt and sneakers. It’s why I bought them.”

The smiley looked up at Wendell and beamed with pride.

Tapping the smiley face with his cane, “It’s this thingy here that’s the problem.”

The smiley scowled at the mägo, sticking out its tongue.

Chuck took a half-step forward, right hand curled into a fist. “See that?!? That’s what I mean. You do and say one thing, but that face on your chest does another!”

Wendell looked down at the smiley face…and received a cheesy wink in return. “It doesn’t mean any harm, and besides, what am I supposed to do about it?”

The wizard sighed. “Change your outfit. You’re not only a mägo, son, but your mägoweave is made to transform to your desires. Like this!”

Stepping back, the old man—still roughly three feet tall, spun once in his dingy grey robes. Before Wendell could blink, the cloth twisted and separated into a glistening black three piece suit. Chuck tapped his mirrored shoes with the gold crested cane and tossed his immense beard over his shoulder. “TA-DAAAA!”

The techno-gnomes and Elder Käshen clapped loudly.

Chuck bowed gracefully as Lili laughed on. “Thank you. You’re too kind. Thank you very much.” Turning to Wendell, “Think of your outfit as putty, and you get to shape it into any clothing your mind can conceive.” Jabbing his cane upward, he tapped the youths chest lightly. “Now…you…try.”

“How? I don’t have the faintest idea of how you did that, Chuck!”

The mägo grinned and touched his forehead with a finger. “Magic isn’t a mystery…only in that you don’t know how to do it…yet. It’s the will. The mind. The desire of a specific result and the true confidence that you will get it. Not believing. Knowing. I believe in some religions they call it faith—an action word! You believe in something that’s TRUE, even though you haven’t achieved it yourself—then exert you mental strength and focus until it DOES work for you.” He spun the cane between his fingers and before it settled on the ground between his feet, he was once again in his grey robes. “That, son, is what separates the true mägo and the charlatans who rely on brooms and wands for effect. We rely on what’s in here,” he touched his temple, “and here,” then placed his hand over his heart. “Not shadows and evil things from below.”

“So—I just think of what I want the outfit to be? That’s it?”

“No, no, no. Not think…know. Expect it. Require it. You have to…”

“Demand it?”

“Not…,” Chuck started to say, but Wendell had already clamped his eyes shut.

A tiny grunt escaped the hero’s lips as he focused all his attention on an outfit he’d always wanted to wear.

The smiley looked about wildly…panicking.

Random swirls of color surfaced over Wendell’s shoulders and stomach. Reds, sea green, orange…like splotches of color squirting out from a sealed ketchup packet.

“GAHH!” Wendell finally grunted, gasping for breath. “How did it turn…” he looked down, frowning. “What the?”

“…quite,” Chuck finished, now scratching his beard. Wendell’s black t-shirt and bluejeans were covered in dripping patches of skewed colors of putrid green. “Son, we’re not working against the materials but with them. Your grunting doesn’t do you any good. You’re pushing! This is magic, not constipation in the outhouse. We gain their confidence by being individuals of integrity.”

“Their?”

“The elements. Everything around us is comprised of a foundational material we can communicate with. When you receive your formal training, you’ll go into this more—but for now, you should understand that everything around you is alive. Rocks, the air, fire, water, you name it, it’s all energy, frequencies, light, and they’re watching you. They have to know when we expect them to act for us, to know we mean it. So it’s not force, but a specific request with expectations attached. Does that make sense?”

Wendell nodded…as the smiley shook its head, confused.

Chuck sighed. “Try again, but this time hold the image of what you want in your head. Feel as if you’re already wearing it. That’s the key. Feel it already on you. Imagine the end result. How would you emotionally FEEL if the elements gave you what you wanted?”

“That’s it?”

The wizard nodded, “Then know it will happen.”

Huh. Just feel? Jusssst feeeel. Know it’ll happen. Right. An image of a particular evolu outfit he’d seen months ago in Leilani’s clothier shop came clearly to mind. The smiley on Wendell’s color splotched shirt shuttered and then grinned from eye to eye.

The wildly bushy eyebrows on Chucks face popped upright. “You’re doing it, son! THAT’S it—keep the image in your mind!”

Black cotton elongated, shifting from the radical colors to a chestnut brown and woodland green. Sleeves rolled down and gathered at Wendell’s wrists, while his jeans thickened to leather trousers and knee high boots. A deep green cloak rolled over one shoulder like water, solidifying, ending with a thick hood, held together by a round broach with a yellow smiley face engraved upon it.

Lili clapped loud and cheered…the gnomes joining in.

“That was amazing, Wendell!,” she clapped.

Chuck stood there stunned. “Well I’ll be a monkey’s…you did it, son. You actually did it on your second try!” Tapping his cane on the ground with a huge grin, “Bravo, Wendell. Well done!”

I did it? Wendell’s fingers felt across his chest, almost in disbelief. “I DID IT! And this will last…how long?”

Chuck pulled a pocket watch from his sleeve and checked it. “Until you decide to change it back. Even if you sleep, the clothes will remain the same until you will it otherwise.”

It was one of the best wins he’d experienced in a long while.

To have some control over his surroundings felt…special.

Wendell adjusted the cloak and noticed Lili smiling a bit longer than usual.

Yup, he felt special alright.

The girl he had a crush on just noticed him.

…and he looked gooood.

****

When the eight of them ported into the entry cave, they could hardly fit. The entire area was packed with bodies…and the frightening thing was, most of them were gnomes.

Thousands of the little folk, sat on side rocks, up in the nooks of the cave, eating over open fires or talking in low tones. Gypsy guards, normally scattered throughout the cavern, were nowhere to be seen.

Tabbermain, Doddle and Vin…along with Enid and Elder Käshen looked about in awe. They pointed at the bioluminescent snails overhead, the light blue glow casting curious shadows over the crowds when mixed with the random firelight.

Wendell helped Chuck, Lili and his party work their way to the key deposit line. “Why are there so many gnomes? What’s going on?”

The old mägo shrugged, then clonked a nearby gnome on the head.

“OY!” the fat, gruffly gnome blurted, “Watch the stick, grandpa!”

“What’s everyone doing here?” Chuck said sternly. “This is way over the little people limit for the Market.”

The gnome scratched his shadow of a beard, making a loud scraping noise with his nails. “Why do you think we’re stuck out here, gramps? There’s no room for us inside, but we ain’t got no place to go!”

Wrapping his beard around his waist to prevent it from being stepped on (for the seventh time), Chuck shook his head. “Go home. Clockworks. Use the keys you all used and scatter. Simple.”

Shocked, the grumpy gnome scowled. “What’s wrong with you? Turnin’ on your own kind? We’ve been invaded! Vallen broke into the city and started taking captives. Anyone resisting are eaten or put on the slave ships!” By this time, several more gnomes turned to listen in on the conversation. Dirty, scared faces of men, women…even tiny children who looked like they’d gone without sleep for days and weak for a lack of food.

“Invaded?” Wendell gasped. “When? I mean, what about your technology? What about the S.L.A.G.s? Surely invaders, even Vallen, couldn’t get past your mechanical forces?”

The gnomes looked up at him, curious.

“What would you know about S.L.A.G.s and…:

“That’s HIM!” cried a voice in the sea of faces. “The Gnolaum!”

“Like the Gnolaum, Gnolaum—as in Wendell, from…”

“The Trench Wars Champion!” cried another. “WOOT!”

“He’ll get us in!” yelled a voice, “He likes gnomes!!”

“WENDELL! WENDELL! WENDELL!!” people started chanting, the rhythm echoing loudly through the cavern.

Chuck grabbed Wendell by the sleeve and tugged, “Move. Now.”

One by one, Chuck pushed and shoved the party to the front of the line, gnomes screaming in protest. Once at the key deposit, he rapped his cane on the wall to get the attention of the closest guard. “You,…yes, you. Walk us through, I need to speak with Iyl-Tandril as quickly as possible!”

The guard chuckled, striding up to the wizard, hand on the whisper blade strapped to his chest. “You can wait your turn like everyone else, gnome.” Laughing louder, “Oh, wait—we’re all filled up with gnomes! You’ll have to wait out there with your kind until someone else leaves…hahahAHAHA!”

Several other guards burst out laughing as well.

“Why don’t they just leave?” Wendell asked.

“They can’t,” Lili sighed, “remember? The only way gate keys get charged with magic is when we deposit them. If a gnome uses the key to go back—it’s a one way trip. If they’re right, and Clockworks has been invaded, that could mean…”

“Okay. Not good,” he looked to Chuck, who was fuming. The wizards face had turned a bright shade of red. “Chuck? What do we do now, if we can’t get in?”

Gritting his teeth, the wizard snarled, “Oh, we’re getting in. I guarantee it.” …and he slipped under the rope, marching straight toward the guards.

It was only a moment before the Gypsies took notice of the defiant act, but when they did, they moved swiftly.

“Chuck!” Wendell hissed in panic, but it was too late.

“Uh-oh,” Elder Käshen moaned, “I’ve seen that mood once or twice before.” He poked Wendell on the shoulder, “Where’s the closest exit?”

Two men jumped the counters and rushed towards the wizard, while the guard that had so rudely mocked Chuck, drew his whisper blade.

“Ah-ah-ah,” Chuck said calmly. With a motion of his hand, all three guards hit the ground with a KRAK!

“ARRRGH!” the rude one cried, his fingers under the weight of his own knife now pinned to the floor. “My hand! You’ll pay for this, you foul abomination!!” Beads of sweat quickly beading across his crinkled brow, “I’ll cut you where you…”

“Are you quite done with your tantrum, child…because I have something you might want to hear. After that, you’re free to do whatever you like with me.” Chuck met the angry gaze without blinking. “Sound fair?”

The guard’s eyes narrowed, a smile curling up the sides of his face. “Speak.”

Chuck stepped forward and whispered in tones too soft to be heard, hands making motions as spoke.

Wendell watched the expression on the young Gypsies face change. From anger to disgust, then to puzzlement, and finally…fear.

The olive color all but drained from the young mans face.

Looking into Chuck’s eyes, the guard blinked once, then nodded vigorously.

With a snap of the mägo’s fingers, all three guards regained control of their weapons. The two Sentry jumped quickly to their feet, but were waved off by the third.

“My deepest apologies, Morphiophelius,” the Gypsy bowed deeply, “If you and your companions will deposit your keys and follow me directly.”

Wendell glanced down at Lili and Tabbermain. Both shrugged and followed.

Chuck reached up and handed the lovely young Gypsy woman his key. “Seven, my dear. Thank you.”

One by one, she took a small knife and pricked the end of their fingers and had them place their print on the glass container where the key would be held.

“What’s t-this for?” Doddle asked.

“Blood-lock,” Wendell answered, placing his finger on the box. “It registers us as legal occupants of the Black Market and saves our key until we’re ready to leave. Security measures.”

Chuck looked up and grinned. “You remembered. I’m impressed.”

Grinning, “You just thought I wasn’t paying attention.”

Following the Gypsy sentry, the party weaved through the line still waiting for an audience and stepped into the entry hall.

Candles burned in abundance, standing on tall metal stands, rocks, and alcoves. Waterfalls of wax dripped down, pooling in clumps on the floor. To one side was a large set of stairs, which at the top, sat double doors open to the market.

One only had to pass the final interview to enter.

“We must stop meeting like this, Chuck,” chimed a Gypsy dressed in yellow. He sat behind a large podium in the corner of the room, containing an equally large book. A small sign hung from a tiny nail protruding out from the podium.: Please Check In: It’s the Law.

Looking down his long nose at the wizard, the Gypsy smirked, “Magic gone awry? You’re looking a bit…less than usual?”

The guards at the base of the stairs snickered.

Chuck puffed out his chest and grinned, placing his cane between his stance and gripping it tightly with both hands. “Lucian, doesn’t this make twice in a year I’ve seen you here, among the cattle? Isn’t that what you call us? What you whisper to your men here. Mocking those who bring food and supplies into your community?” He turned to stare at the guards directly, “To your families?” he grinned wide up at Lucian, “How can we take your condescension seriously, when it looks like you’ve lost favor and been demoted to join us?”

Wendell dropped his head to hide his grin. Annnnd that’s checkmate.

Lucian clenched his mouth tight, the muscles in his jaw flexing over and over again. Looking through his book, he flipped the pages vigorously. “It seems we have reached our maximum capacity and the gnome limit set by law.”

“But the law states that I have an open claim on five visitors, regardless of the capacity.”

Lucian glared. “You are one over your limit.”

Chuck looked over at Wendell and winked. “Not so. He is not my guest. If I’m not mistaken, your law states he has full reign of the market at all times.”

What? Wendell frowned, looking between the exchange. I have full reign? What does that even mean? Lucian stared at him with such intensity and disdain, Wendell wanted to go back with the gnomes in the cavern and hide. What is Lucian’s problem? I meet the guy once and he looks like he wants to chop my dang head off!

With a FWAP! Lucian slapped the book closed and pressed his hands firmly against the leather cover.

“I don’t know HOW you’re doing this, mägo…” and then he glared at Wendell, “or you, boy—but I will find out the truth.” His grin was not kind, “Then I will have your heads…and more.”

Wendell didn’t like that last word.

Chuck nodded politely, “Until that day, may we pass?”

All irritation drained from Lucian’s face until he looked as stoic as a statue. “You may pass.”

As they all walked up the steps into the Black Market, Wendell grabbed Chucks shoulder and stopped him out of earshot from the guards.

“It looks like you just ticked off the wrong people. What did you say to that guard…and what’s the deal with Lucian? Why’s he so fixated on hating me? I don’t even KNOW the guy!”

Chuck looked between all their staring faces and then squeezed Wendell’s hand reassuringly.

“All I can say son, is that when you have the ability to see the past, present and future…you tend to discover a secret or two.”

****

Wendell clearly remembered his first time in the Black Market. One cannot forget the seemingly impossible.

It was not only amusing, but endearing to see the flashes of awe and excitement on the faces of Enid, Vin, Tabbermain and Doddle.

But it was Elder Käshen he was curious about.

“He doesn’t get out much,” was all Chuck would say about the Council member.

The blue Iskari turned more than a few heads as they walked from shop to shop, wandering through the streets, their odd-looking group reminding Wendell of Japanese tourists.

All they need are cameras.

Virtually anything could be found in the Black Market, from food to fabric, herbs to animals, rare potions, magical gems and unspeakable services people might require when running from the law. That’s what made the market special: it was the one place where all races could come to buy, sell, and trade so long as they obeyed Gypsy law.

Dwarves, elves, Vallen and some races Wendell had yet to learn the names of…walked the streets of the underground city in the light of torches, open cooking fires, not to mention glowing snails and slugs overhead.

Man I love this place, Wendell grinned, taking in a deep breath.

To which he immediately coughed and hacked back out.

Ewww!

Odors of bodies, mixed with powerful and often pungent spices mingled with the smoke of cooking fires, creating a thick haze over the town. The cavern valley stretched far beyond the point of sight, while natures phenomenon sparkled overhead like a star-filled sky. The hundreds of blackened buildings leaning against one another, tired and sick, looked more like mountains through the haze than man-made creations.

Every inch of the cavern seemed to be claimed. Outcroppings of moss-covered stone were used as both shelter and workshops. Pathways hoarded as places to raise or contain food, and whatever was left was crowded with carts of goods protected by hollering merchants.

“This is…quite crowded,” complained Käshen, flinching away from a weathered old man in rags, offering him something burnt on a stick.

Wendell pulled a coin from his pouch and purchased enough for everyone. The old man bowed several times in gratitude.

“Oh, this is nothing,” Tabbermain grinned. “A bit more grimy than what we’re used to, but I’m amazed at how much room they have left to work with.”

The Elder looked down, stunned.

“I could lose myself in here for weeks and be perfectly happy,” Wendell chimed in. He gave the old merchant a warm smile. “Filled with so many people who appreciate what they have.”

“But my L—,” Käshen stopped. “Wendell,” he corrected himself, “but they have nothing!”

Wendell shook his head. “There will always be those who are happy with less than what you have. Take that as an opportunity to count your own blessings.”

Chuck skidded to a halt, a huge grin beaming through his facial hair. “Look who the wise one is today! Well said!”

All the gnomes grinned and nodded in agreement.

Wendell couldn’t help but smile.

“May I ask—what is this?” Käshen said softly, giving the merchant a wary smile.

Wendell laughed. “That’s the fun of it,” and he winked at Chuck and Lili, “it’s a surprise.”

Chuck leaned closer and whispered, “Keep an eye on the poor fellow—his vows won’t allow him to waste a bite of that nasty thing.”

The gnomes bit into the snail meat with vigor, enjoying every bite as they walked on. Wendell watched the Elder from the corner of his eye.

“Hey,” he exclaimed, “this is quite tasty! What is it?”

“Let’s leave it at tasty,” Wendell replied, hiding his smirk.

“This is ridiculous,” complained Chuck, “gnomes aren’t the ones filling up the market. Something else must going on. Let’s take a new route—it’ll take us forever to get through to Togs. Follow me.”

Lili frowned. “Togs?”

The mägo pointed his cane at the ridge ahead. “It’s the most run down section fo the cavern, but that didn’t deter the most industrious race on the planet. That’s what the Gypsies named the gnome section. Means getting dressed up for a certain activity, if I remember correctly.”

Vin let out a belly laugh, “They named it after getting dressed? Not Tinker Town, Pocket Watch, or something gnomish?”

“The name fits,” replied the mägo.

“How so?” grinned Tabbermain.

Chuck grunted as the path rose higher, “You’ll see what I mean soon enough.”

The faint rumble of the underground river echoed throughout the community, matched by the furious working shop owners, touting their wares and street vendors trying to scrape a living by selling their handmade goods.

As the party worked their way south, the vibrations grew more noticeable.

“I-is that a world-quake?” squeaked Doddle, latching onto Wendell’s arm unexpectedly.

“It’s the underground river,” Wendell tried to assure him, “It’s alright.” But the gnome continued to fidget at every new sound about him.

Lili slipped her arm through the older gnomes and fell in beside him, matching his gait. “I felt the same way my first time here, Doddle.” She gave him a warm smile and patted his quivering arm, “In fact, I was terrified when I arrived in Clockworks.”

Doddle rolled his eyes. “Well that’s j-just s-silly. All the sounds in C-clockworks are natural.”

She grinned, “To you it was natural. To me, it was far from the silence of a calm beach and the rolling waves of the sea.”

The techno-mägo considered that for a moment. “G-good point, fair lady.”

“Those sounds and vibrations come from the water rushing under our feet, bringing life to this community. Perfectly safe, I promise.” She patted his hand once more and pulled him forward, mouthing up to Wendell, I hope it’s safe, anyway.

Wendell chuckled to himself.

Every path they took led the group back into market congestion. Patrons and merchants haggling, street urchins running under foot…and the destitute begging for scraps.

Weaving in and out of buildings Chuck led them through maze after maze of structures so far gone, they looked like they were leaning into one another for hugs.

“BLUEBERRY!” Chuck snapped out, leaning heavily against a hovel.

Käshen dashed to his side. “Yes?”

“What season is it?”

The Elder looked down, confused. “I—don’t know what…”

Chuck gasped for breath, “Time of year, bit, what time of YEAR is it?”

Blinking, Käshen did a quick calculation. “On Elämä, if we happen to be anywhere near Humär, it would be fall harvest time by now. Why?”

The old mägo pushed himself upright and grunted. “Because it tells me what this congestion in the market is likely to be. Come on.”

Pushing themselves up and over the last ridge, congestion transformed into commotion. Hundreds of bodies ran about cheerfully, waving hands, shouting instructions and swinging tools. Stone masons, wood carvers, blacksmiths, and general laborers worked in a symphony of production aimed at the back wall of the massive cavern known as the The Black Market.

Buildings were being meticulously broken down into raw materials, refurbished, and improved upon by adding a gnomes touch. Small pockets of the cave wall were being mined and opened up, fitted as dwellings, while groups of tinkerers constructed useful walkways and clever pulley systems to power elevators.

“Here we are!” Chuck said between gasps of air, “…and if you want to go explore, have at it. Me, I’m going to sit down until Tuesday.” And he collapsed against a boulder jutting up from the ground.

Enid, almost as winded, slumped down next to Chuck. “This is…what did you call it again?”

“Togs,” puffed the mägo. “In exchange for annual fees and certain ‘services’ to the Triad, a set number of Clockworks finest outcasts were permitted to set down roots here.” He grinned and tapped his nose, “I don’t think those Gypsy boys realize what they’ve gotten themselves into yet.”

Hundreds of gnomes moved about, laughing and smiling as they worked. All in vibrant red and yellow clothing, each male with a yellow sash wrapped around their heads.

“And they all dress like that?” Enid asked, one eyebrow raised high.

Chuck stretched out with his arms, giving his back a long-deserved pop. “Yup.”

“On purpose?”

Chuck rolled his head over to look at Enid point black and grinned wide. “With pride.”

Enid looked up at Wendell. “Would you mind if we excused ourselves? I’d like to meet some of our fellow citizens. To,” he looked at Tabbermain and Doddle, who nodded, “find out what’s happening back home.”

“Good idea,” Chuck grunted, checking his watch. “It’ll give me some time to meet with Iyl-Tandril and see if my suspicions are correct.”

Wendell grabbed the wizards robe before he could march off. “Wait. Who? You’re going to leave me to go visit Alhannah on my own?”

“I’ll go with you, Wendell,” Lili smiled.

“You do that dear,” Chuck said almost robotically, “this…can’t wait.” Noticing Wendell’s discomfort, “Just relax, son. Enjoy yourself while we’re here, alright. It’ll all work out as it should.”

“As it..” what’s up with you, old man? But Chuck had already run off, vanishing among the bodies of the Market.

Elder Käshen stood stiff as a board, his hands fidgeting in the sleeves of his robes, obviously in awe. A small and almost imperceivable smile battled for a place on the Elders face.

A tiny hand tugged on his robes. “You’re more than welcome to accompany us, Elder,” smiled Tabbermain.

“Y-you…don’t mind?” he stammered, then adjusted the glasses on his nose.

“Are you kiddin’?” Vin smirked, “You’re a blast to have around!”

The Iskari beamed. “I’d love to…if it’s okay with Lord..,” but he stopped. Wendell was already frowning. “If it’s alright with Wendell.”

“You have fun—and when we’re all done, we can all meet up for some food at the Tavern, my treat.”

“I knew I liked that kid,” Vin chuckled aloud as the five walked off together.

Lili smiled shyly. “Guess that leaves just us.”

****

From what Wendell understood, the gnome warrior was being kept by one of the most powerful and wealthy women in the Market. Höbin had run from Clockworks, using his gate key to get Alhannah to safety. Problem was, the fishes was hardly making enough coin to care for himself, let alone his wounded child.

To remedy the situation, Höbin had used his connections to secure a place. Only when they entered the famous shop, known as Inimitable Essentials and actually met Dodie McGlynn, did Wendell learn why every man shivered when they uttered her name.

To be specific, Höbin referred to Dodie as a fiery succubus from hell.

…though he made sure she was nowhere around when he did so.

The shop itself was narrow and deep, the walls lined from floor to ceiling with tiny drawers roughly four inches square. Thousands of them. Random shelves contained clear jars, sealed with thick wax…most containing disturbing objects.

Eyes and tongues, pickled fingers and shrunken heads, lizards preserved in oils and winged serpent organs to name a few.

Then it got weird.

“May I help you, young ones?” Came the raspy voice of a chain smoker.

Dodie was a sight.

As in blinding.

With each step she took, the layers of bracelets around her wrists and ankles clanked, toe rings scraping the uneven wood floor. Her hairdo had the effect as to make her head look like a mourning star—braided around sticks, the thin and uneven strands were held in place by pins.

Then there was the smell.

The shop was thick with the smoke of incense, but there was little to hide Dodie’s overly ripe body oder. Something between a rotting corpse and cheese left out so long it had grown into a new life form.

Wendell tried his hardest to smile as she approached, bringing with her the overwhelming scent of body  fermentation.

Dodie’s ears hung to her collarbone, accented by enormous gold and silver earrings, which were only outshone by the large diamond protruding from her nose piercing. Her thin-lipped smile curled back to reveal thin, yellowing teeth.

Wendell stared at her so hard, for so long…he forgot why they had entered the shop altogether.

“We’re friends of Alhannah Luckyfeller,” Lili softly prompted.

The smile slowly faded (thank goodness) as the old woman inspected each of them.

A single glance over Lili’s gnome stature left her devouring gaze to feast on Wendell. With the change of his mägoweave, he now looked more like a wealthy noble than a teenage boy from Earth.

“Are you now,” she said in a near hiss.

“Wendell! Lili! You’re here!!” Höbin cried gleefully, stumbling out from a back room. “Good timing you two—she’s awake.” He motioned to them both and swallowed softly. “Thank you…my dear.”

Dodie ran a snake-like tongue over her top teeth in reply.

Nodding silently at the woman, Wendell stepped past Dodie and followed Lili into the back.

Much like the cottage, Inimitable Essentials was deceptively large.

The doorway opened up into a comfortable parlor where more than a dozen people might sit and enjoy one another’s company. Not huge by any means, but Wendell noticed it was nestled in the outward wall and shouldn’t actually exist. Fine wooden furniture with delicate pillows lined the walls, arranged under various portraits of Dodie grinning her near toothless grin at spectators.

“She’s in here, kids.” Höbin put his hand on the door at the base of a staircase. “Hannah’s about ready for her medication, so she’s awake. She’ll be,…” he choked on his emotions, swallowing hard, “happy to see you.”

Lili gripped his arm, “Are you alright?”

The old gnome blinked the tear from his one good eye, then whispered softly, “Brace yourselves.” He took a deep breath, let it out…then said in a louder, cheerful voice, “Hey sweetie, look who dropped by to check on you!”

Höbin opened the door.

Wendell wasn’t braced enough.

As he entered the narrow room, he noticed two end tables. Each pushed into a corner, one supported a wooden bowl with what looked to be glowing rocks—steam rising from it into the air, while the other was laden with vials and small paper bags. Some of the empty vials had rolled onto the floor.

No candles burned or shed their light in here. In the place of open flame were two hanging globes of water, dangling in weaved silver nets suspended from the ceiling. Iridescent fish darted about in the cool liquid, the bold, blue glow providing a measure of light.

In the center of the small room was a single bed.

Prone upon the straw mattress was a tiny figure which resembled a gnome skeleton more than a living, breathing person.

And she looked nothing like a famous female warrior.

Wendell almost reeled from the scent, forcing its way into every breath he took, assaulting his nostrils.

He gagged, lifting his sleeve to cover his mouth.

“Now is…that,” Alhannah wheezed painfully, laboring for a breath, “any…way to…treat a friend?” She smiled then, her sore-covered mouth cracking.

Small drops of blood formed on her lips.

Lili tried to choke back tears, but started to cry anyway.

“Here,” Höbin whispered to her, pulling up the only chair in the room, “have a seat. I have to go get some herbs she needs to take.” He gave his daughter a loving smile. “She needs her rest, so try not to wear her out.”

“We won’t stay long,” Wendell replied, shaking Höbin’s hand in passing.

The gnome shut the door behind him.

“You come to break me out?” Alhannah grinned again, this time followed by a mild cough. Her once vibrant hair was matted and dark brown, falling out in tufts—small strands littering the pillow. Her once round cheeks were sunken and grey, cheekbones looking sharp. “I could use…some fresh air and a…steak.”

Both Lili and Wendell laughed weakly.

Patting the side of her bed with pencil thin fingers, “Com’ere, little brother. I’ve missed you.”

Wendell sat carefully beside her, making sure not to disturb the bed. Sliding his large hand under Alhannah’s, he bent his fingers so they cradled hers gently and avoided brushing against the large boils down her forearm. Her skin was cold and clammy to the touch. “I’ve missed you too,” he whispered, then swallowed, forcing himself to sound calmer than he felt. “Been worried about you.”

“Naww. By the…sound of it, I should have…been worried about you.” Again the light cough. One of her eyes, which looked overly red and surrounded by a thick black bruise, twitched violently.

“Well we’re all out and safe now—that’s what counts,” he added.

Alhannah gripped two of his fingers, surprisingly hard. “You call this…safe?” She gulped air, trying to swallow and struggled. “I’m dying…and they don’t know why!”

“Lili leaned forward, resting her own tiny hand on Alhannah’s other. “They don’t know anything at all?”

“Only that it…started on my…arm,…and it’s eating me.”

“Eating you?” Wendell looked to Lili, then back at Alhannah, “What, like a parasite?”

Her tiny shoulders made an effort to rise. “That’s…what I’m told. But dad won’t…say what kind, or how…I might have picked it up.” She gasped for breath. “Frustrating.”

“Is there anything we can do, Alhannah?” Wendell asked, “Anything at all. Because whatever I have is yours…” He attempted a small squeeze of her hand. “Anything.”

For a minute she struggled to draw a breath. Her face and sunken chest contorting and heaving while Lili sobbed silently. When she finally relaxed, she said, “That witch Dodie, has…my dad on a leash. I’m still alive because of her,” a single tear welled up and rolled down from her good eye, “but she’s taken…everything we have. We had to move in here…because dad can’t pay Wood for rent. My winnings have been cut off, so I’m broke and…” she broke off.

“Is that it?” Wendell smiled, feeling hopeful. “It’s just about money?”

Alhannah clenched her eyes tight. More tears. “Whatever they’re giving me—the herbs—they’re rare. Hard to get. So…dad is trading…favors…to that cow.”

Wendell leaned down to kiss the back of Alhannah’s hand. “Rest. I don’t want you to worry about a thing. You just rest and I’ll take care of everything.”

Her sunken eyes rolled over to lock on his. “You can’t take on…”

Wendell raised his hand and cut her off. “I learned some things in Clockworks, ‘Hannah,” he said calmly, “Something important I didn’t realize until now.” Looking deeply into her eyes, Wendell whispered firmly, “I can do what I like, because it’s my choice.”

You wonderful, wonderful girl. If I could take your pain and suffer in your place, I would. But I can’t take your place. He stared at her for a moment, taking in the pain and worry of Alhannah’s face. All he could see was the young lady who was kind enough to encourage him when he felt alone, to teach him and stand by him when things were not only rough, but dangerous. She didn’t care about the odds. She didn’t care about the reputation. She cared about her friend.

“And I choose you, Alhannah Luckyfeller,” he said finally. “I choose to help my friends. So you stop worrying, because whatever it takes, I’ll make this right. I promise.”

As if by magic, Alhannah took a deep, clean, full breath…and closed her eyes in peace.

Wendell looked to Lili in alarm.

Turning her wrist over, Lili sighed in relief. “She’s alright. Just sleeping.”

Calm down Wendell, he gulped, Your motivating speech didn’t kill her.

Backing out of the bedroom quietly, they bumped into Höbin. He carried a steaming bowl of liquid in his cybernetic hand.

“Leaving already?” he asked perplexed. “You just got here.”

“She’s awfully tired,” Lili replied, “and she just drifted off to sleep. We didn’t want to wear her out any more.”

The gnome smiled gratefully. “She’s been asking after you both ever since I got back—so I’m glad you stopped by.”

“You let us know if we can do anything for her,” Wendell insisted. “Or you.” Gripping the gnomes shoulder, “In fact, you should join us over to the Roadkill Tavern when you’re done here. I’m buying.”

Nodding, “Will do.”

No you won’t, Wendell grinned. “Alhannah says you two decided to move in here?”

Höbin flinched. “Uhh, yes. That’s right. Better to be closer to all the herbs and medicine that ‘Hannah needs. Dodie was kind enough to give us a deal on the room.”

Wendell smiled and nodded.

Pointing at the bedroom door, “Speaking of which, ‘Hannah needs to drink this before it gets cold, sleepy or not. Excuse me.”

Lili closed the door behind them as they emerged from the apartment. She reached out a tiny hand and gave his forearm a squeeze. “You did well, Wendell. Alhannah looked more comfortable after your offer.”

“And what offer would that be, might I ask?” Dodie interrupted. Counting jars filled with tiny eyeballs, while scribbling notes upon a scroll, she tapped the quill twice and set it on the shelf. Turning her full attention to them, she asked, “Am I to expect the girl and her father vacating soon?”

There was something about the shop owner that bothered Wendell. Apart from her looks and disgusting scent, there was something else. Something she was hiding. Something wrong.

Something worth…protecting.

“In a rush for them to leave, Ms. McGlynn?” he replied.

She gave them both a sneer of disdain, “Mrs. if you please. I am a widow after all…and no, I don’t desire them to leave,” her lips rolled back to show a sickening grin, the folds of her skin trying to make was for the corners of her mouth, “At least not until I’m paid in full.”

Hands shaking, Wendell curled his fingers into fists, fighting to keep his jaw unlocked. “I thought Höbin was your…friend?”

Again the sneer, accompanied by the rolling of her eyes. “Friend? Please,” she descended the step stool and set the scroll upon the counter. “I’m fond of the little gnome, but friendship is overrated and seriously underfunded. At the days end, I’m a business woman. My focus is increase and profits.” Her eyes narrowed, “…so if Höbin cannot produce either, he is of no use to me.”

Shooting Lili a nasty glare, she added, “Her daughter is a drain on my considerably rare resources.”

“What is WRONG with you people?!!?” Wendell exploded, his volume and intensity causing both ladies to flinch and step back from him. “Profits? That’s all you want? Fine!”

Reaching into his tunic pocket, Wendell drew out his coin bag. “How much does Höbin owe you?”

Dodie laughed. “More than you have in that little purse, dear, but I appreciate your show of camaraderie.” She reached for her quill once more.

“Ten gold? Fifteen? How much?” he pulled open the string and started sifting through the magical pile of coin only he could see. One after another, he pulled gold coins and slapped them down on the counter.

Dodie watched him with great curiosity. “Thirteen coins.”

Wendell slapped them onto the counter. “And how much to provide her herbs and potions, or whatever you’re feeding her for the next six months?”

She raised an eyebrow, “Six months?”

Wendell grit his teeth, his body shaking in anger as he locked eyes with Dodie. “How MUCH?!!”

Dodie’s eyes narrowed to slits, tongue ever-so-slowly wiping across her upper lip. Walking past Lili, she worked her way to the other side of the counter and pulled a large and worn book wrapped in faded green material from the shelf. The thick and haphazardly bound volume kicked up dust as she plopped it onto the counter.

There you are. Wendell’s chest heaved up and down, air shooting from his nostrils. That’s the real you,…snake. Look up your potions of evil.

“Herbs, room and board…”

“No,” he cut her off, “I’ll get them both out of your hair,” Wendell added smoothly, “so you won’t have to host a weeping father or his invalid child. Give me a price for the things she’s taking now—the stuff keeping her alive. The stuff you know it will TAKE to keep her alive.”

Dodie froze. One hand on the book, another on a nearby quill, her eyes darted back and forth, though Wendell couldn’t understand what she could be looking at.

Working swiftly and in silence, she flung open the pages of the book and started searching. Gnarled fingers whipped the quill pen across paper, dipping in the ink well without looking as page after page, plants, animals and symbols were sought.

Lili reached out and gripped Wendell’s hand, giving it a light squeeze.

Wendell remained fixated on Dodie, whose list was quickly growing to the length of her forearm. She knows. This old bat actually knows what’s wrong with Alhannah…or she knows how to take better care of her!

“I can do better than keep her alive.” With a last scratch of the pen, she totaled her costs and calculated her profits. “With this concoction the girl will look almost like new…that is, until we find out what’s really wrong with her.”

Wendell sneered. “But you know, don’t you? You know what’s wrong with her.”

Dodie shook her head. “No, but I have seen something like it. Once. And if I’m right, there’s nothing I can do for her. She’s going to die in the next eight months.”

Lili gulped, “Why…eight months?”

Turning her head slowly, Dodie looked like a great lizard, searching for something to eat. “Because that’s when she’ll give birth.”

Birth? Wendell grabbed the counter to keep from falling over. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Not because it was impossible for the gnome, which he considered like a sister. To fall in love and have children was normal…but pregnancy didn’t do that to a woman. Not that he knew of, anyway. Alhannah was being sucked dry. Yeah, the baby might take nutrients form the expecting mother, but…

His line of thought was shattered by Dodie’s high-pitched cackle. “It’s not a child she’s carrying, you fools! HAHAHA!!”

Wendell slammed his fist down on the counter, “THEN WHAT IS IT?!!”

Like turning off a switch, the cackling stopped.

“Tell me,” he growled.

Lili tugged on his hand.

All emotion and interest faded from Dodie’s face.

“No.”

“Name your price,” Wendell added with a grin.

She didn’t hesitate. “You cannot afford it, boy.”

“You said this was about money!”

“Yes,” she replied, “until you made it personal.” Her gaze burned through him and Wendell could feel the dangerous repercussions of his emotional outburst. “Someone should have taught you manners, boy. It is unwise to provoke someone in their own home. In their own domain. As for this list, I will finalize the agreement for the sum of one hundred pieces of gold…with the understanding that its use only prolongs the inevitable. I guarantee nothing.” She leaned forward until Wendell could smell her rank breath on his face. “Alhannah Luckyfeller will die.”

Lili choked.

“In addition, you will have the girl moved from my home.”

Wendell snarled, “Fine.”

“Today.” Her eyes narrowed then, “Let me be painfully clear. If she is not moved by close of business today, I will have her body flung into the street to rot with the rest of the gnome garbage.” She shot Lili a look of disgust. “If you agree to these terms, the potion you require will be prepared and set upon this counter at the end of each business day. Höbin or any other messenger you designate may retrieve your purchase, which will be signed for…but from this day forward you are never to personally enter my shop again.” Sliding the scroll around to face Wendell, she placed the quill on top of it. “Are we agreed?”

Without hesitation he snatched up the pen, signed his name…and started counting coins.