“Hello, Leonard!” The melodious voice of the Eater of the Dead filled the cavern, the mummified corpses of thousands of dead Celts stacked against the glowing green walls.
“Hello, Eater. Nice to see you again. It’s been too long,” said Leonard, covering his nose to avoid passing out from the stale stink of long-dead corpses. He walked over to Merlin, who was eating an apple while sitting on a pile of objects that had been pulled down with the dead. Some of the objects were clearly made of gold or silver, some were encrusted with jewels, still more were as plain as can be—small wooden drinking bowls, walking sticks, and other possessions of those not so well-off. “What did you want to see me about?”
“I have a number of reasons, actually. First, I’d like to thank you for keeping true to your oath about bringing two sacks of apples every year. As an aside, this season’s crop is particularly tasty!”
“I’ll share your compliments with Sir Francis. He’ll be pleased to know you’re enjoying his produce. As for keeping my promise, well, my deceased master always stressed the importance of doing just that. I’d feel I was a lesser man if I broke an oath.”
“Tell him the real reason you wanted him to come down,” said Merlin, using one of his remaining teeth to pry free a chunk of the apple.
“I’m getting to it, Merlin. Must you be so impatient?”
Leonard furrowed his brow. “Real reason?”
“Yes! Leonard, there’s someone here who would very much like to say hello to you.”
“All right,” said Leonard, not really sure that it was all right.
Merlin stood and stepped to the side and, when he did, Leonard’s jaw felt like it dropped halfway to the floor. Standing directly behind where Merlin had been seated was a middle-aged knight in full armor, but holding an over-large helmet under his left arm. The knight had kindly eyes and a ready smile and was . . . there was really no other way to put it, partially transparent.
“Hello, Leonard,” said the knight as he stepped forward and extended his hand. “It’s so very good to see you again.”
Leonard swallowed hard and somehow managed to get to his feet. “Sir Ronald?”
Chapter Four
Let’s Be Brave
H ubert and Piffle sat on the back of a hay cart, watching Glennys tend to the old woman’s scratched-up arms with her pouch of medicinal potions and ointments.
“That’s a sad tale Old Jenny tells, isn’t it, Piffle?”
“It’s a ‘tale’ it is for sure. How is you thinking, Master?”
Hubert leaned back on the hay and scratched his neck. “I’ll admit that she has an ill-favored look about her, but that doesn’t mean she’s up to no good. It could just be an accident of birth, a legacy from her kin, that she appears shifty. Just because something or someone looks wicked doesn’t mean that it or they really are.”
“What it is you is saying, the Master?”
“I’m just saying that I haven’t made up my mind about her yet.”
“I have,” muttered Piffle. “She is bad people, she is.”
Glennys stood and said a few words to Jenny, who immediately fell to her knees and clutched at the hem of Glennys’s gown. Looking embarrassed, Glennys patted Jenny on the back and delicately pulled her hand away from the fabric. Taking a step back, Glennys turned and hurried toward Hubert and Piffle.
“How’s she doing?” said Hubert when Glennys was within earshot.
Glennys brushed her hair from her face and dipped her hands in the courtyard horse trough. “As well as can be expected considering all that she’s been through. And I’m not just talking about the bodily damage she’s endured. All of that will heal soon enough. That woman has suffered greatly at the hands of the faeries, and I just hope she can survive the blow if we can’t get her grandbaby back.”
Hubert shot Piffle a glance. “We?”
“Oh, did I say we?”
Hubert frowned. “Come on, out with it.”
Glennys sat next to Hubert on the cart and, as she did, Piffle jumped off Hubert’s shoulder and began grooming her.
Hubert gestured for Glennys to spill the beans. “Speak.”
“Well, Jenny was telling me that she came here specifically to get Leonard’s help.”
“Did she now? Interesting.”
“Yes, she was very disappointed when I told her that he would be away from the castle for at least a fortnight. When I asked why, she told me that she’d learned that only a dragonfriend could pierce the protective circle the nasty faeries had placed around their village to keep ordinaries like her out.”
“You’re a dragonfriend,” said Hubert.
“Yes, and that’s what I told her! She begged me to go with her to rescue the child.”
“You can’t go by yourself, it’d be too dangerous.”
Piffle snorted.
Glennys puckered her brow. “I could go by myself, Hubert, if I wanted to, without any problem at all.”
“Of course you could. I wasn’t trying to imply—”
“Yes, you were, and don’t deny it. What I’m trying to say is that why should I go it alone when I have a brave knight and his fierce little brownie to accompany me on what’s sure to be an easy rescue mission.”
“You’ve spent all of this time fretting about your fast-approaching nuptials and now you want to run off and have an adventure? With a stranger?”
“With a bad people stranger, I is thinking,” said Piffle under her breath.
“Yes! That’s exactly what I want to do. Please say you’ll come with me, Hubert.”
Hubert stood and sighed. “Leonard is going to kill me.”
“Oh, don’t worry about him. He didn’t have any trouble at all running off to play with that scoundrel of a wizard. Now here we are with a chance to have some fun of our own, and I think we should take it. What do you say?”
“No!” said Piffle.
“I say . . . wait, are these faeries dangerous?”
“Only in numbers, according to Jenny.”
“Faeries is always being in numbers in the places where they is living,” said Piffle.
“I’m not finding that to be of much comfort at all.”
Glennys stood. “Come on, Hubert. Let’s be brave.”
Hubert shook his head and shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
Glennys squealed with delight and gave Hubert a quick hug. “Excellent! Make sure you get a good night’s sleep. We leave first thing in the morning.”
Chapter Five
The Plan
L eonard rushed forward to take the hand of and embrace his old master, the former Lord of the Green Valley and the man who had taken him in and raised him like a son after Leonard had been found in the ruins of a burnt-down cottage. But instead of meeting with solid flesh, Leonard passed through Sir Ronald as if he weren’t there at all. He then tripped on a small casket of dried herbs and fell face first into the pile of Roman coins spilling out of ruptured leather purses.
Sir Ronald shook his head and laughed. “My fault, Leonard. I keep forgetting I’m no longer among the living.”