Detective Nicely Strongoak and the Case of the Dead Elf (15 page)

BOOK: Detective Nicely Strongoak and the Case of the Dead Elf
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15
OF DRAGONS AND NATURAL SELECTION

‘I always thought dragons would be bigger,’ said Tollingstaff the Wise.

‘What, bigger than a malnourished porker?’ I added.

‘Yes.’

We watched as the little dragon waddled, rather endearingly, into the cavern. It spoke:

‘Hang on, just got to get me breff back, getting a flame up like that ain’t too easy. Phew! Sorry about the trick with the shadows, couldn’t resist it. Hope I din’t make you pother your pants.’

Tolly and I looked at each other and silently agreed to keep quiet on that score.

‘Excuse me,’ Tolly said. ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking, but you are a dragon, aren’t you?’

‘Well yes, obviously! I sure ain’t no spring chicken.’

‘It’s only that my colleague and I were just thinking,’ I went on, ‘that dragons, by reputation at least, are usually mentioned as being somewhat bulkier. Have you perhaps been ill?’

‘No, mate. Fine fettle, me. Had a cold at the end of the Blue Age, or was it the Green? Nearly burnt me nostrils out, all that sneezing. But uvverwise, mustn’t grumble.’ The little reptile executed a neat quick-step to emphasise his point and finished with a flourish. ‘’Aven’t you heard of evolution?’

‘Pardon?’ Tolly and I said in unison.

‘Evolution, mates. It’s your evolution!’

‘Oh yes,’ I grunted, ‘evolution.’ Evolution, as I understood it then, was what scholars had come up with to account for what happened when we all decided to invent a need for boots. It was all to do with swinging around in trees, and how some people fell out – or were evicted – and went hiking; whereas the rest decided that this travel business was all very well, but not for them. The climate was nice here, there was plenty of food, so why don’t we just get on with it and evolve right here? I liked the story, as it explained why the goblins appeared to be hedging their bets, just in case they need to get back up the trees in a hurry. I know there were a lot of people, particularly in the Citadel Alliance Party, who were less impressed. They were not happy about having possible kinship with gnomes, let alone goblins and trolls. What all this had to do with dragons, I did not know and I said as much.

‘It’s natural selection, mates, natural selection,’ the dragon said, resting his rump on the platform’s edge. ‘All those bi’logical forces that led to you dwarfs and Men––’

‘Wizards,’ interrupted Tolly, with just a trace of annoyance.

‘Begging Your Mage’s pardon, dwarfs and wizards. Anyway, all those forces that was busy wiv all the uvver people of Widergard was also doing their business on us dragons.’ When Tolly and I still looked blank, he tried again, small flames playing sweetly around his snout. ‘Look, mates. Imagine you are a full-blown dragon, breaving fire, laying waste to the countryside and consuming your fair share of maidens. What are you?’

‘Unpopular?’ suggested Tolly.

‘No; well, maybe in some quarters,’ said the dragon, who had taken to circumnavigating the dais, ‘but what you undoubtably are is conspicuous, right! A ripe target for every hero with a magic sword, or burglar climbing down your chimbley, who may want to give you a quick jab in the soft underparts, whilst you are trying to catch up on a few moons’ kip. Eat one and another half-dozen pop up, until one day you don’t wake up quick enough, and what’s the result? The result is evolution’s big elbow, the big trip down the Black Pit, and no more big dragons. The big heave-ho. Whereas, us, their somewhat smaller brevren, who once had our arses burnt just trying to live off the scraps of the big boys’ barbecues, we showed them a thing or two about survival. And they called us “Worms” – I ask you. Stay small and nimble, watch the stodgy food, that’s the secret, and keep the Bog away from anyone carrying anything larger than a toothpick.’

Tolly looked at me and we both looked blank and then shrugged in unison. This was getting to be a double act. I wasn’t sure if I could lose my detective’s license for such synchronised tomfoolery, but I didn’t think I should make a habit of it and risk losing my hard-earned dwarf-of-the-world image. ‘So, correct me if I’m wrong here,’ I said to the ambulating lizard, ‘but did I not just detect a slight trace of wistfulness in your voice?’

The dragon stopped, took his tail in his hands and thoughtfully proceeded to use it to comb his scales. ‘Yes, you’re right. It must have really been something, flying through the night sky, wind in your scales and the smell of burning village in your nostrils.’ He sighed deeply and hiccupped a flame. ‘That oil, you know, makes a terrific flame, but what it does to the digestion!’

‘So, little dragon,’ Tolly asked, ‘how do you come to be here in the bowels of the Citadel?’

‘Well, it’s one fing ’scaping being skewered, it’s another getting the pot roast on the table every day. So, get smart, that’s the answer. Find yourself some steady employment. Why not? Brains outdo brawn any day. Which reminds me, I can’t sit here all day gassing wiv you good folks. I’ve a job to do.’

‘Which is what, exactly?’ I asked.

‘Sorry. Din’t I make it hobvious? How hextremely remiss of me.’ The dragon executed a tricky bow, tricky if you lack a waist, that is. ‘I am your friendly – well, as friendly as circumstance will allow – Guardian of the Citadel Labyrinth.’

Tolly and I could not help a snigger. ‘Look,’ I began, ‘we don’t want to hurt your feelings, and the trick with the shadow and the flame was really impressive; it’s just that one disadvantage of your size is that you do tend to lose out somewhat in the intimidation stakes.’

‘I thought you knew me better than that, mates. I don’t go in for all that mauling and mayhem stuff.’

‘What do you do, then?’ We felt obliged to ask.

‘Me? I just burn off chalk marks.’

I thought about it for just half an instant, about the same time it took Tolly to also work out the implications. ‘Quick, Tolly, grab the runt.’ We both flung ourselves forward and collided as the dragon slipped through our fingers. There was a sudden spurt of flame and we saw one of our torches burn up in a twinkling.

‘Oh no!’

The dragon gave us a cheery wave, and before we knew it there was another spurt of flame, another dead torch, and then blackness. This was the real-article black – the ‘wave your hand in front of your nose and see nothing but your retina doing a random light show’ sort of black. Pitch-black, jet-black; a blackness of the darkest achromatic visual value. I have been in mines ten leagues underground and never found darkness of this quality.

‘Nicely,’ said the wizard, somewhere to my left. ‘Is this serious?’

‘It could be,’ I replied. ‘Can you magic a light at the end of your staff?’

‘Nice idea, Master Detective. Only, it appears to have escaped your finely honed senses that I do not have a staff.’

‘Oh, yes, I did wonder. Trolling
staff
. What’s the matter, have you not collected enough coupons or something?’

‘Very droll. Dwarf. If you actually are interested, there happens to be a bit of a shortage at the moment.’

‘A shortage?’

‘Yes, staffs don’t grow on trees, you know. Well, they do, naturally. But it’s all rather involved, and let’s just say there are rather a lot of wizards at the moment and not enough staffs to go round.’ Tolly did not sound too happy about this state of affairs.

‘No need to get ratty. Don’t you like being in the dark, wizard?’

‘It’s not my favourite way to be. I am just trying to think, how are we going to manage to do anything at all without the torches?’

‘I don’t know about you, but I’m going to use my flash-light.’ I took the aforementioned item from my pocket and lit up the forlorn wizard with it.

‘Very funny, dwarf. Tollingstaff the Expedient, and Nicely the Indispensable. A pretty pair we make indeed.’

We returned to the dais to make plans. When in doubt, light a pipe, so we sat on the edge of the platform and filled up with pipeleaf. To save the flashlight I turned it off, and we talked, illuminated only by the pipe embers. ‘No chance of working our way out of the maze without the chalk marks, I suppose,’ asked Tolly, already knowing the answer.

‘Unlikely,’ I had to say. ‘Even if I could remember the sequence, everything is numbered with reference to the first turn we made at the beginning of the maze. I would be unlikely to remember it backwards. I mean, I could give it a try, but the chances are slim.’ This only got me a mutter from the wizard by way of reply, so I carried on. ‘Then again, we still have the pocket dragon to consider as well, burning off all our new marks. It’s pretty hopeless.’ Again, all I got was the mutter as the wizard sucked energetically on his pipe. ‘I’m glad to see you are taking this better now.’

‘Yes, sorry about that. Back when the torches went out, I just panicked for a moment there.’

‘That’s all right, I shouldn’t have tugged your beard. Still, we do seem to find ourselves stuck up in the giant’s castle without a beanpole. Any ideas?’

‘Finish our pipes, and have a think about insurance.’

‘Insurance?’

‘Yes, insurance.’

Tollingstaff the Wise did not seem to be willing to add to this cryptic comment, and that left me none the wiser, so I thought about rings and mazes and what the world was like when this complex had been constructed. The dwarfs had done a fine job when the cavern was built; such craftwork didn’t come cheap. I somehow could not see them going to all that trouble, simply to lock it up and forget about it. It was built to be admired, and if it was meant to be viewed by the kings and queens and whoever else was in charge of the Citadel at that time, then I could not see them all tripping down the maze from a secret door in the wall of the Third Level. My knowledge of the White and Wise was not exhaustive, but I knew they were not big on ‘tripping’, not when they could do ‘parading’ and ‘flaunting’. And if ever there was a good reason to flaunt it, this was surely it.

This meant one thing: ‘Tolly, there must be another door!’ This startled the wizard out of his cogitations.

‘What’s that you say?’

‘It makes sense. This chamber and the model, they were a focal point of the community, a symbol of the co-operation that built the Citadel. All this is meant to be seen, and by the High Folk as well. All the White and Wise! That means another door. There must be another door!’

‘I take your point. However, finding such an entrance is another matter. After all, the secret door we used was all but forgotten.’

‘But that was an emergency entrance, probably required in the planning laws. The other entrance would be more noticeable, dramatic even. Let’s try to find it. It must be worth a go.’

So we made our way round the walls of the cavern, walking in opposite directions, looking for any clue to an entrance. I used the flashlight and Tolly did his best with his pocket flint. No joy; as far as I could tell it was all solid rock. I asked Tolly how he was managing. When I received no reply I looked round and searched for him with my flashlight. He was standing still, head to one side, listening.

‘Come on Tolly, put some effort into it or we are soon going to be one dried-up dwarf and one wizen wizard.’

‘I am just waiting for something.’

‘What for?’ I asked, only to be answered by a distant roar, cut off with a choke and a gagging noise.

‘For that, I think, Master Detective. Come on; let us take a seat again. I don’t think we need to bother looking for an entrance now.’

‘But what was it?’ I asked, as we made our way back to the centre.

‘That was the sound of insurance, oh Strongoak the Indispensable,’ he said smugly. I could tell I wasn’t going to get any further explanation out of him for the moment so I joined him and we lit another pipe. Within a short while I heard heavy footsteps and saw a light approaching from around the bend in the tunnel. I shone my flash at the entrance and, into the chamber, dragon held round the neck by one huge hand, strode Slant.

‘Sorry to keep you waiting. This little chap took some catching, and then some persuading, before he would take me to you.’ The dragon gurgled something that did not quite make it past Slant’s fist. Slant translated for us. ‘The little chap says it was not fair to go hiding in the dark; which I think coming from him is pretty rich.’

I turned to the wizard. ‘So this is your insurance policy?’

‘And a fine one it is too.’ Tolly strode down and thumped Slant on the shoulder. ‘There are not many in the Citadel who can intimidate Slant, and he can move very quietly when he wishes.’

‘Not quiet enough it seems,’ said Slant. ‘While following the two of you to the hidden door, I noticed that you already had a tail on you. A man, or somebody reasonably tall at least. I must have spooked him, though, as he made off.’

‘News to you?’ the wizard asked me.

‘News,’ I confirmed, considering the ramifications.

‘Well, Master Detective, I am sorry I could not trust you completely, at least not straight away, even with your pretty shield.’

‘Don’t even consider apologising, Tolly. If I had an insurance policy like Slant, I must admit I would sleep safer at night.’

‘And Slant, when you see what is on this platform, I am sure you will agree your trip was worthwhile.’ The wizard beckoned the big man forward and he gazed, gob-smacked, at the Rings of the Citadel, as we told him the story of the missing stone.

‘I suppose you’re going to make off with the others,’ the dragon managed to say.

‘Not at all,’ said the wizard, ‘have no fear on that account.’

‘I knew you was top-of-the-tree geezers,’ said the relieved reptile. ‘Only when the Elf Ring disappeared, it fair ripped out me granddaddy’s pump. He never lived it down, took to lying with his head in a bucket of water. Said he’d shamed the whole family. We couldn’t kindle a spark from him. I’m the last of the line now, and I would hate to fink that I’d managed to lose the rest of the rings.’

‘No,’ said the wizard, ‘if anything we shall endeavour to see that the missing ring is returned to its rightful place, or at least its rightful owner.’ The wizard and I exchanged looks.

‘Now,’ said Slant, ‘much as I hate to tear myself away from such a visual treat, it has been a long night, and I for one am ready for my bed. If our little friend will just direct us out, the maze is still going to take some time to negotiate.’

BOOK: Detective Nicely Strongoak and the Case of the Dead Elf
13.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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