Tales From a Second Hand Wand Shop- Book 1: They Were the Best of Gnomes. They Were the Worst of Gnomes. Read online

Chapter Eleven

  Wherein Grimbledung Makes His

  First Bribe (in the shop)

  Drimblerod came from the rear of the shop to where the Dummy was working- or supposed to be working.

  Dummy was flailing and pointing to the front of the shop, he would stop and punch one hand into the other, or hit himself in the head.

  “Settle down. I’ll go see what’s going on,” Drimblerod assured Dummy. He moved quickly to the curtain. “What’s going on?” Asked Drimblerod as he pushed through the curtain. He was greeted by Grimbledung standing over a splayed and very unconscious human. Bits of stool were scattered about and Grimbledung was still holding the wooden leg in one hand, Assassin Wand in the other.

  “I made a sale,” offered Grimbledung. He hadn’t moved from his stance.

  “You just can’t beat people over the head to sell them a wand.”

  “No, not this one,” Grimbledung nudged the man with the stool leg, “the other one.” He pointed at the door with the wand. “That other guy bought a Green Pixie Stick for a silver coin.” He grinned. “He seemed pleased with the purchase too,” he added.

  “What’s with this one?” Drimblerod nudged him with his foot. He picked up the man’s arm which covered his face. His hand flopped in unnatural directions. Drimblerod stuck out his tongue, “That’s not good. What? Did you hit him while he was down?”

  Grimbledung looked offended, “Not at all! He hadn’t collapsed yet when I hit his wrist.”

  Drimblerod raised an eyebrow

  “Well, at least not completely anyway. He still might have twitched with this thing in his hand.” Grimbledung waved the Assassin Wand, which crackled ominously.

  Assassin Wands were smaller than normal wands; easy to conceal, or after being used, discarded discretely. They were imbued with one or two spells, always offensive, usually lethal. In many townships and municipalities, they were illegal. Fortunately, in Aution, a more devil-may-care attitude was followed. Since no devils had complained about Assassin Wands (because they didn’t use them, and no one would ever consider trying to use one on them) they were fair game within township limits.

  “Well, we need to move him,” said Drimblerod, “at the very least, he’ll spook the other customers. At least he’s not bleeding.” He bent over to look at the man more closely. “Externally anyway.”

  “What’ll we do? This guy’s sure to file a complaint about this.” Grimbledung said worriedly. “He got a good look at me too. What I really need now is ...”

  “A doctor?” Suggested Drimblerod.

  “No,” replied Grimbledung. “An alibi!”

  “Relax. Get the dolly from the back. We’ll strap him to it. I’ll roll him down to the doc. He can patch him up, wipe today from his head, and send him on his way.”

  “Really? That’s a great doctor!” Grimbledung relaxed and put the wand and hunk of wood on the counter.

  “Well, he does owe me a favor or two. It shouldn’t cost more than a silver.”

  “But that was my first sale,” whined Grimbledung.

  “Now it’s your first bribe,” said Drimblerod, “hand it over.”

  Grimbledung took the silver coin from his pouch, kissed it and tossed it to Drimblerod. “I’ll get the dolly” he said sullenly.

  After several failed attempts, the two Gnomes were able to balance the man on the dolly long enough to strap him down. “OK. I’ll take care of him, you clean up this mess and mind the shop,” ordered Drimblerod.

  “Got it,” assured Grimbledung.

  Drimblerod raised an eyebrow at him.

  “No, really. I can handle this,” Grimbledung said as he shuffled Drimblerod out the door, dolly and all. “Rolton Chips!” Exclaimed Grimbledung as he gathered the broken stool and fed it into the stove. He moved back behind the counter and caught himself trying to sit down on a no longer in existence stool. “Steaming piles of Rolton chips.” He muttered as he leaned on the counter.

  “Oooh, thanks,” said Rat sleepily as he rolled his back to the now crackling fire. “Whack another customer in an hour, will you, Grim.” With that he dozed off.

  Grimbledung’s gesture at Rat was wasted. If nothing else, it made Grimbledung feel better.

  After a few minutes, a cloaked figure came in quickly and shut the door. “Welcome. Come in and peruse the merchandise,” said Grimbledung, straightening.

  The cloaked figure moved quickly to the counter, keeping low as it went.

  “Shhh” it rasped, “not so loud.”

  “Right” replied Grimbledung in a fake theatrical whisper, “the rat’s sleeping.”

  The figure shook its hooded head. “They might hear. Keep it down. And don’t wake the rat,” the figure hissed.

  The situation suddenly seemed familiar to Grimbledung. He was back at his wagon on the wrong side of town. He leaned forward, “Of course; no witnesses.”

  “Riiiight,” the figure whispered.

  Grimbledung leaned over the counter so his feet were barely on the ground and in his best conspirator tone asked, “Whaddayawant?”

  “I’m off on a mission. An adventure. I don’t know what I’ll encounter” the figure said. “Death itself,” it suggested.

  “Well, he can be a friendly sort if you engage him in a game of strategy. Especially if dice are involved. Chutes and Elves comes to mind.” Grimbledung waggled his ears.

  The dark figure stared at Grimbledung.

  “I understand,” Grimbledung said knowingly. I understand you’re a mark he thought. Out loud he continued, “You need a standard Adventure of Doom package.” He winked.

  “Yessss,” the figure agreed, “money is no object.”

  Grimbledung did little puppy flips on the inside, “Follow me” he said as calmly as he could as he moved from behind the counter, “And stay clear of the window.”

  The cloaked figure obliged, practically crawling behind Grimbledung. “I suggest an Incinerator wand to heat ... I mean to boil a person’s brain.”

  “Perfect!” Agreed the figure.

  Grimbledung stuck the wand in the figure’s belt. In theory, one could cause harm with an Incinerator wand, but it would have to be held tightly against a head for a long time to even begin to cause damage. Skulls were poor conductors when it came to Incinerator wands. By then, a rock to the head would be a far better choice- especially if a victim was unwilling to remain still for a long time. “And to help move the bodies, a Levitator Wand”

  “Just what I was thinking. Will it move several bodies at once?” The figure asked.

  “Oh plenty of bodies” assured Grimbledung, “I saw one pick up a whole troop8 of Orcs.” Behind him, he heard the bell over the door. Things couldn’t get better, he thought. “Come in, we endeavor to ser ...” His eyes met Drimblerod’s.

  The cloaked figure hunched down, “No witnesses!” It hissed.

  “Drimblerod’s not a witness,” Grimbledung explained to the figure, “he’s management.” He patted the figure’s back. “Relax.”

  Drimblerod shook his head.

  “Not management?” Asked Grimbledung.

  Drimblerod pushed the empty dolly in and shut the door. He shook his head again. He stuck out his tongue and waggled it around as if he had a sugar stick.

  “Lunch?” Suggested Grimbledung.

  Drimblerod’s head shook again. He pointed at the window and waggled his tongue again.

  “No.” Grimbledung said flatly, as he continued to pat the figure.

  Drimblerod pointed to the cloaked figure and gave a thumbs-up.

  “Right then,” Grimbledung’s eyes narrowed. “Back to my customer.” He drew a finger across his throat slowly at Drimblerod.

  Drimblerod silently pushed the dolly through shop and under the curtain, then he returned to peek out from behind it.

  “Ahhh, I thought he’d never leave,” said Grimbledung. “Now where were we? Killing things and toting corpses, I think. What more could you need?”

  The hooded figure un-stoope
d slightly. “What do you suggest?”

  “Come to the counter, friend and I’ll show you.” Grimbledung quickly moved around the counter so the figure knew where to skulk. “I only show this wand to the truly adventurous and most dangerous of customers. Only the most worthy of worthiest.”

  “That’s me.”

  Grimbledung searched quickly under the glass hoping that a wand would catch his eye. One did. He thumbed open the door and pulled out a small black wand. “This is your wand. I hope you have the gold for it,” warned Grimbledung.

  “Of course I do,” whispered the figure.

  “I sure hope so. The last time was horrible” said Grimbledung casually as he held the wand by the tip, offering the hilt to the figure. It was not how someone generally passed a wand to another, but the figure did not notice.

  “Last time?” It asked.

  “It’s nothing really. Hardly even worth mentioning. It’s just....”

  The figure peered up at him, hand hovered inches from the hilt. “Just what?” It said finally.

  “The cleanup was tough, is all. Took a whole week. We had to repaint you see.”

  “Repaint?” The figure asked.

  “The walls,” said Grimbledung.

  “Walls?”

  “And the ceilings of course.”

  The figure’s hand moved ever so slightly away from the wand’s hilt.

  “No matter,” continued Grimbledung, “you’re obviously much more controlled, magically speaking. And you’re definitely powerful enough wearing that ominous yet stylish cloak.” With that, Grimbledung shoved the wand into the figure’s sleeve.

  Reflexively it grasped the wand.

  “Ka-Clack” went the wand.

  “Is it supposed to do that?” Asked the figure.

  “Oh, we’ll be alright as long as ...” Grimbledung stopped as a high pitch whine began to emit from the wand. “Uh oh,” he said flatly.

  “Uh oh? What’s that mean?”

  Grimbledung let go of the tip of the wand. “I really, really need you to pay for that quickly because we don’t offer refunds.”

  “Refunds?”

  “And it should help pay for the cleanup.” Grimbledung said as the wand’s pitch rose two more octaves. “Sooner is definitely better than later at this point,” he suggested.

  “What do I do? How do I make it stop?” Pleaded the figure.

  “Pay and take it outside so the street sweepers can take care of the mess. Less to paint out there.”

  “But ...” started the figure. He had to speak up over the noise.

  “But what?” Asked Grimbledung innocently.

  “I have... no money” the figure finally admitted. It dropped the wand on the counter and sprinted out of the shop.

  “One down” said Grimbledung as he gingerly picked up the now smoking wand. “Make way!” He called as he ran through the curtain. Drimblerod barely sidestepped as he came through. “Duck, Dummy!” Grimbledung called. He was now running at top speed, wand held out ahead of him.

  Dummy saw Grimbledung at full tilt, smoking wand aimed at it. It wheeled its arms and fell off the platform just as the wand went off. A jagged purple bolt zigzagged from the wand and into the Abyssmal Box for a full five seconds, crackling and sizzling as it went.

  “We’re going to get very angry letters” said Drimblerod as he helped Dummy to its base. It was furiously twirling a mitten hand around its ear as it gestured towards Grimbledung with the other.

  “Well, that was exciting!” Said Grimbledung, “I thought that guy would never leave!”

  “Why in the Lands did you hand that fool a Destructor!! Wand for?” Drimblerod asked angrily, “He could have taken out half the shop!”

  “Relax, Drim. I had it all under control,” Grimbledung tried to reassure him.

  “And what if we didn’t have that box?” Drimblerod pointed testily at the Abyssmal Box. “What if you didn’t make it back here? What it the lid was shut? What then?”

  “I’d have gone outside and cut a bunch of clouds in half. No harm done”

  “Except that discharging a Destructor!! Wand within township limits is a felony and I would have, WE would have lost the shop trying to pay all the fines and bribes!” Snapped Drimblerod. “And that’s not even taking into account any up close and personal meetings we’d have with the Constable!”

  Grimbledung shuddered. Fines and jail time- those could be dealt with. Up close and personal meetings with the Constable, or more specifically Aution’s Constable was a different matter entirely. Then something truly horrible came to his mind, “Rolton Chips!” He exclaimed.

  “What now?” Said Drimblerod, exasperated.

  “That fellow walked out of here with that Incinerator Wand stuck in his belt. Steaming piles of Rolton Chips.” He scrunched up his face at the loss of a wand.

  “Well, if that’s all this learning experience costs us, we’re still doing pretty well.” He thought for a moment, “But for now on, put wands on the counter until a customer pays for it, not on their person!”

  Grimbledung sighed heavily. Wand Shoppe ownership definitely was more complicated than Wand Wagon ownership. Hopefully he got the hang of it. At least before he killed off his new partner. “Fine, fine.”