Andrew Buckley - Stiltskin

Something that the Wizards’ Council did know that Niggle didn’t was that he was actually one of the most powerful wizards in all of Thiside or Othaside. Thankfully, he was too scared of his own power ever to test it out. It was for this reason that the Wizards’ Council let him remain on the council despite his lack of involvement. They never knew when such power might come in handy, especially if it was on their side.

Niggle was happily boiling water for the latest batch of tea he’d received from some far-off place and was scanning one of his many bookshelves for something to read. Along with his nervous stutter came an equally nervous twitch that caused his right eye, neck, and left shoulder to spasm in unison every thirty seconds or so. He’d grown to live with it, but the rest of the world found it very unsettling. Accompanied by the stutter, his unique appearance made most people find it difficult to hold a conversation with him.

There was a distinct knock at the wizard’s chamber door that made Niggle jump. It was Wednesday; no one ever visited him on a Wednesday. Incidentally, Thiside only had five days of the week: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Sunday, and Snarfday. To make matters worse, the days occurred in different and random order every week, as laid out by the Thiside yearly calendar. This made keeping track of appointments very difficult but made the embarrassment of forgetting someone’s birthday or anniversary much more understandable. Every Snarfday, an apprentice wizard would stop by to drop off the council news, but other than that, Niggle never had to interact with anyone. A surprise visit from an unknown someone made him nervous, which wasn’t really a stretch of the imagination when everything made him nervous anyway. On a scale of one to ten, where one is a little bit nervous and ten is an extravagant sort of nervous, with a paling of the skin and hot sweats, this was around a seven.

The someone at the door knocked again, this time with clear impatience. Niggle realized he’d been staring at the door hoping they’d go away but their persistence was apparent as there came a third knock. Niggle made his way over to the door and cracked it open and peered through with his left eye, the one that didn’t twitch. Niggle stood almost six feet tall, and was happy to see that no one was there. His mistake was quickly realized when a voice from below the five-foot mark said, “Hello, Niggle, nice to see you after all this time.”

Through a face covered in dried blood, leaves, and, dirt Rumpelstiltskin grinned up at him from beneath a wizard’s hat that was obviously too big for him and, knowing the Dwarf, more than likely stolen.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” asked the Dwarf.

Rumpelstiltskin didn’t wait for an invite and pushed his way through the door into the chamber. He noted that almost everything was covered in dust and the whole place smelled like must, tea, and self-indulgence, much like the smell of Ukrainian cooking.

Niggle stood with the door open, mouth agape.

“You can close the door, Niggle. And your mouth.”

“J-j-j-j-yes,” said Niggle and closed the door. And then slowly closed his mouth. “Y-y-you were in p-p-p-pr-pr―in the Tower.”

The Dwarf pulled the kettle away from the fire, as it was starting to boil over. “I know you’re probably surprised to see me but as you can plainly see, I’m no longer in the Tower so we can stop stating the obvious.”

“How d-d-d-did you g-get out?”

Rumpelstiltskin waved a dismissive hand. “Not important. The important part is that I’m here now and could really use your help.”

Niggle twitched uncontrollably. It looked a lot like someone had dropped an ice cube down his shirt. “W-w-what happened to your f-face?”

“I had a run-in with the Castle gardens. Evil bloody plants. Actually,” said the Dwarf with an evil glint in his eye, “let’s start there. How about you wish me healthy again? I think this shoulder is dislocated.”

“C-c-c-an’t d-do that, you know that, w-w-w―”

“Oh right, wizards can’t make wishes, yada, yada, yada. How about you magic me up some first aid then?”

“W-w-w―”

“Oh, come now, my friend, let’s not forget who saved you those many years ago. By the way, you haven’t aged well.”

“Th-th-th―”

“No need to thank me again. It was just lucky I was outside your parents’ cottage when that seven-headed poisonous snake was thrown―uh―jumped at your head. The least I could do.”

“B-but I p-paid that d-d-debt.”

“That is true, yes. But what I’m asking this time, aside from a quick fix-me-up, is for you to perform the exact same thing you did for me before I was sent to the Tower.”

Rumpelstiltskin leaned back in the chair and winced a little at the discomfort of his shoulder.

The wizard Niggle was sweating profusely and his twitch was now occurring every twenty seconds.

“B-b-b…”

Rumpelstiltskin used his good arm to loosen the hatchet from his belt loop and idly examined the sharpness of the blade.

Niggle observed that the loudest and most threatening words in the room were those that were not being spoken.

“O-o-o-of course,” said the terrified wizard.

“I’m glad you see it my way.”

Niggle twitched and hastily wiped the sweat from his forehead and rolled up the sleeves of his robe. Rumpelstiltskin watched as the wizard silently called into the room the magical essence of nothingness and moulded it into somethingness. He moved his hands in a circular gesture and the room around him began to glow blue. Niggle moved closer to the Dwarf and with his eyes still closed, he pointed a steady finger at Rumpelstiltskin and pushed it to his forehead.

Rumpelstiltskin’s body became rigid as the magic did its work, coursing through his body, his veins, his muscles, and his bones. He felt his shoulder snap back into place, the broken skin where the plants had lashed at him knitted back together, and even his muscles that were tired from all the recent running felt refreshed and made anew.

The blue glow diminished and the wizard Niggle resumed twitching and sweating. He sank into a chair and rubbed his temples.

“Th-th-there ya go. G-g-g-g-g-good as new.”

So easy. “And now the girl. I need you to tell me where she is.”

“I haven’t d-d-done a finding sp-sp-spell in a long time.”

“No time like the present,” said the Dwarf and grinned maliciously.

General Gnarly and Gnick led the way as the foursome followed the North Yellow Brick Road through the valley. After their encounter with the bandits, Gnarly and Gnick had scouted ahead to make sure the way was clear. Aside from a couple of farmers and an oddly shaped cow-like creature, their contact with anyone but each other had been limited.

Robert and Lily walked together in silence. Lily’s mind seemed to be elsewhere and Robert noticed that she seemed to be growing anxious as the day marched forward.

Robert was trying to ignore the way that General Gnarly glanced back at him every now and then. He now felt that the Gnome saw him as a threat, which was hilarious on various levels. To those who knew him, Robert was considered to be one of the least threatening things on Earth. Some people would have gone as far as to say that cotton wool or a really well made ham sandwich presented more of a threat than Robert. Robert was one of those individuals that people didn’t mind meeting in a dark alley because he would provide comfort in the sense that if there was anything bad lurking in the alley, it would attack Robert first because he looked like an easy target.