Andrew Buckley - Stiltskin

“Hit him with a hard one,” said the voice.

Robert bent over so he was inches from Jack’s face. “It’s a real honour to meet a fairy tale character such as yourself.”

Jack strained against the invisible bonds that held him. “I’ll kill you when I get out of here, Darkly. I’ll kill you! You’re just like your father and you’ll end up exactly like him! You’ll probably even share a cell!”

The wizard had been busy unpacking a new teapot, which Lily grabbed from him and smashed up the side of Jack’s head.

“Try and focus, Jack. We need to know where the Dwarf is going!”

Jack didn’t take his eyes off Robert, who was leaning casually against the fireplace staring back at Jack.

“Why does it matter?”

“Because we know what he’s doing. We know he’s going to remove the blood regulation from the door. It’ll break down the barrier between Thiside and Othaside. It’ll be just like it was before. Othasiders will pour into Thiside.”

Niggle twitched at the thought.

“Would that be so bad?” said Jack. “At least we’d have a purpose again.”

Lily moved in between Jack and Robert’s staring contest. “Is that why you did it? Because you’re bored?”

“Aren’t you?”

“No. I’m happy with who I am.”

Jack barked a laugh. “If there’s anyone who’s not happy with who they are it’s you, Lillian Redcloak. I’ve been alive for centuries. Centuries! I’m sick of living this existence. In my day, Giants roamed the land, Ogres burned villages, Goblins ravaged entire Kingdoms! I want those days back, Lily, I want them back! And the Dwarf can do that. If he breaks down the doors, it’ll cause chaos. We’ll have something to do again. The Agency will have real assignments again instead of spending all our time negotiating between Humanimals or catching thieves. We’ll live between both worlds!”

“You’re an idiot, Jack, and we’re going to stop the Dwarf.”

“You’ll never find him. There are magical fields everywhere and he just needs one strong one to finish the spell.”

“A-a-a-a magical field?” said Niggle.

“Where’s the strongest magical field?” Robert asked Niggle.

“The r-r-remains of the Emerald City. It’s the strongest magical field in Thiside. It’s also abandoned. It’d be the p-p-perfect place to p-perform the spell.”

Jack rocked himself forward and stood up, the chair still attached to his body. He charged at Lily, knocking her over, then ran as fast as anyone with a chair attached to their rear end could and threw himself out of the open window of the wizard’s apartment.

Robert ran to the window in time to see Jack hit the ground a hundred feet below. The chair smashed upon impact and the stone pavement cracked.

Lily joined Robert at the window.

“Is he dead?” asked Robert.

“No,” said Lily.

Jack picked himself up and brushed himself off. He cast a glance up at the window, then turned and ran through the crowd that had begun to gather.

“Should we chase him?” asked Robert.

“No, we need to get to Rumpelstiltskin.” They turned away from the window to find Niggle clutching another teapot to his chest. “We need to get to the Emerald City. Can you produce us another door?”

“N-n-no. The Great Hall is the only place we can perform it and there’s currently training in session.”

“Robert, can you open a door?”

Robert thought about it. “I wouldn’t even know where to start. We could door jump?”

“It won’t get us there fast enough.”

“Horses?” said Robert.

“What’s a horse,” asked Niggle.

“You haven’t noticed that there aren’t any horses here?” asked Lily.

“That’s a good point,” said Robert. “There has to be some form of transportation?”

Niggle twitched and almost dropped his teapot. “One of the younger wizards has a pair of S-s-s-screech Demons. They’d get you there f-fast.”

“Take us to them,” said Lily.

Robert’s perception of right and wrong, up and down, reality and fantasy, black and white had all been completely skewed, then shredded, then burned, then drowned over the last two days. Robert heard the words Screech Demon and the first thing that came to mind wasn’t something warm and fuzzy. He hated to ask the question, but as he followed the wizard and Lily out the door he felt he had no choice.

“What’s a Screech Demon?” he asked.

After hearing the answer, he wished he’d just left the question alone.

Oh,” 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.”