Stiltskin (Andrew Buckley) (18 page)

“Lily,” pleaded Robert, “you must remember the cat. You told me about how there are no cats in Thiside.”

“That’s true, there are no cats in Thiside,” agreed Lily.

“I know! You told me why, about the Cheshire cat and how he vanished and the Emerald Guard were ordered to kill all the cats.”

“Where did you learn all that?”

“You told me!”

“I don’t remember that at all,” said Lily with complete sincerity.

Robert rubbed his temples. Something in his mind twitched uncomfortably. He felt for a moment that he was back home and he’d just woken up in his elementary school teacher’s flower garden with no memory of how he got there. “Look, what do you remember about the halfway house?”

“There was a fire,” said Lily, “we all got out alive and then spent the rest of the night here.”

“But you don’t remember the cat?”

“What cat?”

“He was small and fuzzy, black and orange, and the fire didn’t like him. He’s the only reason I made it out of the halfway house in the first place.”

“Robert,” said Lily as if she was talking to a little boy in kindergarten who had just wet himself, “you’ve been through a lot during the past twenty-four hours. Maybe you dreamt it and it just felt real?”

The twitch in Robert’s mind turned into an itch, then it pulsated, and then it burned, and then… nothing. It was as if something clicked. A little voice in Robert’s mind that sounded a lot like Robert said, “Maybe she’s right, maybe we dreamt it.”

“Who the hell was that?” said Robert.

“Who was what?” said Lily, looking concerned now.

Robert looked around and saw nothing out of the ordinary. “Maybe you’re right, maybe it was a dream,” he agreed.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” asked Lily.

“Yes, we’re fine,” said the voice in Robert’s head.

“Yes, I agree we’re fine,” said Robert.
This is it
.
I’m losing my mind.

“Oh no, I’m sure we’re okay,” said the voice.

“All right, if you say so,” conceded Robert.

Lily and the Gnomes stared at him.

“What?”

“I think we should get moving,” said Lily in the fond hope that changing the subject would make the weirdness go away. “If we absolutely have to speak to the Historian, I’d rather do it well before nightfall.”

Lily and the Gnomes set off along the path, Gnick and General Gnarly deep in conversation. Maybe it was Robert’s paranoia but he felt like they were talking about him.

“They’re probably talking about us,” agreed the voice.

“Really, you think so?” Robert asked the voice.

“Most likely.”

“Well, what do you think they’re talking about?”

“Probably about how you’re standing here talking to no one in particular.”

“Well, you’re me, right? So really I’m just talking to myself.”

“That’s just as weird, you know?”

“Look, just shut up, I’m having enough trouble with everything today without me making it worse.”

“Yeah, that’s strange about the cat.”

“I’m not talking to you anymore,” said Robert resolutely.

“Suit yerself,” said the voice.

It should have worried Robert that he was not only hearing voices but also holding full conversations with them.

“Voice,” said the voice.

“What?” said Robert.

“Voice, not voices. Singular, not plural. You’re just hearing the one voice.”

“Oh right. Thanks.”

But for some reason, and just as equally disturbing, it didn’t feel weird at all. It didn’t worry him. It simply felt like it was the right way for things to go. The disappearance of the cat actually worried him more.

Robert took a moment to examine his surroundings. It’s true that there were no signs of a cat being anywhere in the area, although aside from maybe a hairball or poop, Robert couldn’t think of anything else that would show the presence of a cat.

Did I really dream it all?

“Who knows?” said the voice in his head.

And now his own mind was arguing with him. It had never done that before. Robert felt different today and he couldn’t decide whether it was a good different or a bad different or a completely indifferent different. But whatever it was, as Robert turned and followed the others to find that Lily was waiting for him, he decided that today was probably going to be
one of those days
. Whatever that meant.

After several failed attempts, Robert’s mind gave up on trying to make conversation with itself and committed to humming which, to Robert, was much more favourable.

They’d exited the Dark Forest around mid-morning into what was a very dreary day. The grey clouds hung low in the sky and occasionally spat on people. The forest opened out into a large valley with lush green fields, copses of trees, and the occasional stone structure. Lily had explained that there was a great deal of farmland in the North. Robert could see mountains that disappeared into the low clouds off to the West. Far off in the East, barely visible, he could see a storm brewing. Three high mountains surrounded the valley. Before them, the brick road split into three.

“There are no signposts anywhere,” commented Robert.

“Why does that matter?” asked Lily.

“How do you know where you’re going all the time?”

“I’ve been around for a while. Each path leads to different kingdoms in between each of the mountains. The one to the West runs out to the Northern Peak of the Grimm Mountains and the Seven Dwarves Mining Company. The Eastern road leads to the Kingdom of Hearts. The Northern road, which we’ll be taking, leads through the Rose Kingdom to the Beast’s Kingdom.”

“So many Kingdoms,” said Robert.

“They spend a lot of time at war with one another. There’s currently a peace treaty in place to prevent the fighting, but it’s just a matter of time before one of them oversteps the boundaries.”

“Does that happen often?”

“About once every two weeks. In fact, all three Kingdoms have special departments whose sole job it is to watch the other kingdoms and find out what they’re planning.”

“Can’t they just negotiate something?”

“The Wizards Council of Oz tried and failed miserably. Even the Agency stepped in and tried.”

“And what happened?”

“The result was a war that raged for almost a year.”

“I see.”

The group continued down the Northern path toward a far-off gap in between two of the three mountains. Ahead of them, the path entered a large copse of trees. Robert thought he saw something moving through the trees but the humming in his head was making it difficult to concentrate on more than one thing at once.

“The problem,” said Lily, “is that they’re very difficult rulers in the first place. Queen Aurora is extremely nice on the surface, but a cunning and extremely smart strategist. The Queen of Hearts is slightly crazy, and the Beast, well, he’s a Beast.”

“A literal Beast?”

“Yes, fur, sharp teeth, very angry.”

“Like Beauty and the Beast?”

“Poor girl,” said Gnick.

“Let me guess,” said Robert, “she’s dead?”

“As a doornail,” agreed General Gnarly. “The Princess Belle was given as a gift by the Queen Aurora’s great-great-great-grandfather to the Beast in order to keep him at bay and away from their kingdom. The Beast was insulted and tore her to pieces.”

“Why on Earth did he do that?”

“Because she was ugly.”

“Not just ugly,” said Gnick, “I heard that her looks were comparable to a troll.”

“Still seems like a bit of an overreaction,” said Robert.

The copse of trees loomed up ahead of them, throwing dark silhouettes against the grim sky. The path ran for about a mile through the trees before emerging at the other end. Dry leaves blew across the cracked and faded yellow brick road and swirled through the trees.

“Why’s it feel so intensely creepy in here?” asked Robert. There really wasn’t any reason for it. The trees were alive and rustling to the melodic tunes of the breeze, the green hills and pastures could be seen in breaks through the trees. It was nothing like the Dark Forest, but it still felt chilling.

“Some say that the trees are angry,” said Gnick. “This entire valley was once forest but it was felled to make the farmlands for the three kingdoms. The copses that remain are in a constant state of aggravation at losing their tree brethren.”

Lily laughed. “What a load of crap.”

“Yeah but it adds to the effect,” said Gnick grinning.

Robert noticed something through the trees to the left and for a moment, thought he saw the lost kitten playing in the leaves. “Did you guys see th―?”

“Shh!” said General Gnarly and everyone came to an abrupt stop. “We’re being watched.”

“General, if this is more crap about angry trees―” said Lily.

“Shh!” he said. And then in direct paradox, he yelled “Come out, we know you’re there!”

“Look,” said Robert, “how do you know…”

Six men emerged from the trees not far in front of them. Four of them looked like they were made for hiding behind trees. They wore ragged looking, tree coloured clothing and their limbs were long and spindly. They wore large brimmed pointed hats and gave off a sense that everyone should probably just do what they say. In order to back up that particular sense, the fifth and sixth members of their group were extremely large and Robert wondered how they had missed them as hiding behind a tree would seem like a physical impossibility for them. They were tall and broad, wearing similar clothing as their companions, although somewhat tighter, with fists the size of a good ham shank and faces that looked like they were chiselled from granite.

One of the thin ones stepped forward, removed his hat to reveal a completely bald head, and bowed low. “Greetings, fellow travellers, it is a good day to walk the yellow road, a good day indeed.”

“It is that,” said General Gnarly.

“No argument here,” agreed Gnick.

“I wonder, might you move aside, as we still have a ways to go and as you mentioned, it is a good day to travel,” said Lily diplomatically.

“You should say something,” said the voice in Robert’s head.

“Hello,” said Robert.

“Bold and moving all at the same time,” said the voice with only a hint of sarcasm.

“Of course we’ll have you on your way in no time. Allow me to introduce ourselves. My name is Arollis. My three brothers here are Mikolin, Gaulo, and Jillik. Our two larger cousins are Gruntnard and Abbigail.”

Robert noted that Abbigail had started to drool.

“And in whose company do we find ourselves today?”

There was a pause while General Gnarly weighed up the six men.

“I’m General Gnarly of the Warrior Gnomes of the Grimm Mountains and this is my Lieutenant, Gnick. Lily here is an Agent assigned out of Oz and the moron on the end there is Robert.”

Robert barely even noticed the insult. He was watching Gruntnard and Abbigail as they appeared to be flexing their fists.

Unbeknownst to Robert and his companions, Abbigail had originally been named Bockrick but had voluntarily changed his name to prove a point. That point being that if one were big enough, mean enough, and had the ethical capacity to turn a grown man literally inside out, then it really didn’t matter what one was called.

“An Agent, well, well. And you, General, we’ve definitely heard of.”

“Aye,” agreed the General, “and I know of you as well. You’re the Bandits of the Old Forest.”

Arollis clapped his hands in delight. “I’m so happy that our reputation has spread so far.”

“It’s true,” agreed Lily, “we’ve heard reports of you as far as Oz.”

“Splendid,” said Arollis, “then we can dispense with any further pleasantries, I suppose. Normally I have to speak at length about what we do and why we’re here and so on. It actually gets boring after a while but being that you already know us, then you know what the next step is?”

“You’ll be expecting us to hand over all our belongings,” said General Gnarly with a bit of a grin that suggested he had no intention of handing anything to anyone.

“Gentleman,” began Lily, once again diplomatically, “I’m sure you understand the gravity of robbing an Agent, and as you have heard of General Gnarly, then I assume you also know that he is actually quite dangerous. I’m willing to overlook this interruption in our journey if you’ll just step aside and we’ll pretend that none of this ever happened.”

The skinny bandits laughed in a way that Robert found condescending. His impression of Agents was that they were feared but disliked, sort of like a fairy tale Gestapo. But any authority that instilled even a small amount of fear usually garnered at least some respect.

“Well, I see that this conversation has gone quite as far as it can,” said Arollis.

“Oh dear,” said the voice.

“What?” said Robert.

“What do you mean, ‘what’?” asked Arollis.

“There’s going to be a fight,” said the voice.

“Surely not,” said Robert.

“Surely not what?” said Arollis, who was clearly getting thrown off his game. He was used to a standard order of things. His family would fall upon travellers, Arollis would act as the spokesman, always the gentleman, and then they’d rob the travellers of everything. If they resisted in the slightest the bandits would beat the travellers within an inch of their lives. Sometimes less than an inch.