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Authors: Andrew Buckley

Stiltskin (Andrew Buckley) (33 page)

BOOK: Stiltskin (Andrew Buckley)
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Robert stopped talking as Lily had clamped her lips to his.

“Kiss back!” hissed the voice.

And so he did. It was a magnificent moment that filled Robert with the kind of joy that can only normally be felt by children on Christmas morning just before they open their presents.

Lily detached herself and smiled a whimsical smile.

“I’ll think about it.” And with that she turned and carried on walking.

Good enough for me!
Robert grinned and then chased after her. “So Elise Bastinda is dead, then?”

“I’m going to assume so as we were told we’d find her in a graveyard. I doubt she’s there for the fun of it.”

“What do you think we’re going to find there?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, what are we going to do if the Dwarf is still there?”

“I’m not sure.”

“So we don’t really have a plan?”

“No.”

“Oh good, as long as we’re on the same page.”

It was empty! She was gone! The body of the witch wasn’t where it was supposed to be. Rumpelstiltskin scrambled out of the grave, covered in mud, and was now in the foulest of moods. He paced back and forth trying to figure out what to do next. He couldn’t complete the spell without the final piece. He needed the bones!

Something moved behind him and he spun around to find nothing but a few hundred gravestones staring back at him.

“Who’s there?”

A sheep trotted out from behind a nearby stone and scowled at the Dwarf. Scowling was exceptionally hard for sheep. They sometimes managed a smile, but scowling took all the wrong muscles and they didn’t have the concentration to do it very often. The average sheep could only manage maybe two, possibly three good scowls in an entire lifetime.

“Oh, it’s just you,” said the Dwarf and turned back to the grave.

Jack was leaning casually against the gravestone, looking angry. He had a large garbage bag sitting on the ground next to him.

“You!” said the Dwarf.

“Me,” said Jack.

Lightning flashed as a storm began to organize itself in the skies above Hebden Bridge.

A similar storm, albeit with more personality, raged above the Valley of Storms. Lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and the rain threw itself out of the sky toward the ground with the distinct intention of making everything wet.

Inside the Tower, rain dripped down through the hallways as it always did when the rain was heavy. The rain snuffed out some of the flaming torches that illuminated the interior of the Tower and the Troll was having a hard time keeping them all lit. He slouched his way up and down the hallway holding a stick with a candle on the end and relit the lamps every time one went out.

“You’re an ugly little bastard,” shouted Tweedle Dum.

“Sharrap,” said the Troll as another lamp fizzled out.

“He doesn’t really mean it,” yelled Tweedle Dee.

The Hatter clapped his hands enthusiastically.

“What are you so happy about?” said Tweedle Dum.

“I’m just so honoured to be in the presence of the pair of you. It’s been so long since you’ve been your true self. It’s glorious to behold!”

“We don’t talk to madmen!” shouted Tweedle Dum.

“Well,
he
doesn’t,” said Tweedle Dee, “I’ll talk to anyone.”

“And that’s why mother liked me best!” retorted Tweedle Dum.

“That’s ridiculous and you know it.”

“That’s why she always paid more attention to me and ignored your tubby, whining ass!”

“You’re lying!” shrieked Tweedle Dee.

“Gentleman, gentleman, no need to fight,” said the Hatter soothingly.

Tweedle was doing his best to scowl at himself.

“In fact, we can change subjects altogether. We could talk about the secret that I’m not telling you.”

Tweedle’s eyes narrowed. “You keep talking about this secret but you’re not telling us what it is. That can only lead us to think that you’re lying.”

“Oh, I don’t lie. Ask anyone.”

“You’ve got to admit that our choice of witnesses is limited.”

“You could ask the Troll?”

“He’s a snivelling toad!” shouted Tweedle Dum.

“You’ve been wondering about how the Dwarf got out of here when no one has ever escaped before.”

“Obviously.”

“But suurreeleee, you have some idea?”

Tweedle stared back at the Hatter with a blank look on his face.

“Oh come, come, you must know! Or at least have some concept? An inkling? An idea?”

Tweedle continued the blank stare.

“The hole in the wall could only be made with a compact magical spell. Which means someone brought it in. Who are the only people who can come in and out of the Tower at will?”

Tweedle screwed up his forehead as if thinking very hard.

“You’re smarter than this,” said the Hatter. “If you’re not going to play along then I won’t play, either!”

The Hatter turned his back to his cell door and a slight smile played at the corners of Tweedle’s mouth.

“People like me?” said Tweedle Dee.

The Hatter swung around and gripped the bars of his cell. “Yes, go on!”

“An Agent. It would have to be an Agent. But it would have to be an Agent who had something to gain. But the only way they would have something to gain would be if they knew all about Rumpelstiltskin.”

The Hatter was literally shaking the bars on his cell door with excitement. “Yes, yes! Keep going!”

“And the only way any Agent would know anything about an inmate is by interrogation.”

“And who interrogated the Dwarf? Who?” shouted the Hatter.

“Jack. It was Jack!”

“You took your damn time getting here. The bones are gone!” said the Dwarf.

Jack was still leaning against the gravestone, his features as chiselled as the stone tablets lying around the graveyard.

“I was already here! I dug up the bones earlier today. If you’d kept to the plan and met me outside of the City of Oz like you were supposed to do, this never would have happened!” said Jack.

“Outside the city? We weren’t supposed to meet outside the city. We were supposed to meet along the coastal path. You weren’t there!” shouted the Dwarf, losing his patience.

“Who told you that?”

“The Hatter, of course.”

Jack’s face tightened. “I knew we couldn’t trust that skinny idiot. I assumed I’d find you back here.”

Rumpelstiltskin laughed. “That skinny idiot very nearly ruined our plan.”

“Your plan, not ours. I’m just helping you make life more interesting,” said Jack.

“What?” said Lily’s startled voice from the edge of the graveyard.

“You can let me out now, Troll,” said Tweedle.

The Troll shuffled in front of the Agent’s cell door.

“What ya mean?”

“Well, of course you know I was just putting on an act so I could get the information I needed out of the Hatter?” explained Tweedle.

“Uh, wellz, no, didn’t occur t’ me really.”

“And now I have it. I need to report back to my associates as soon as possible. So like I said, you can let me out now.”

“So uh, you’z not really crazy then, eh?”

“Just an act, and a good one, I might add. Even fooled you, I see.”

The Troll scratched his head. “Well I s’pose.”

“Oh, come on!” said the Hatter, “you’re not really buying this, are you? He was arguing with himself a minute ago!”

“Sharrap, Hatter,” said the Troll and dragged a long nail down Tweedle’s cell door.

The locks slid aside and Tweedle stepped from the cell and straightened his clothing.

“I just need a quick word with the Hatter.” Tweedle waddled over to the Hatter’s door and moved his face close to the barred window and whispered, “Thank you so much for releasing us, we won’t forget what you’ve done for us today.”

Tweedle smiled a wide grin and then walked away down the hallway, followed closely by the Troll.

“You’ll never be able to hide it in the real world again, you know!” shouted the Hatter after them. “Everyone will know who and what you are! Just wait and see!”

Tweedle left the Troll standing at the gate to the Tower and began his journey across the bridge. He had much more of a spring in his step than when he’d first arrived. The storm raged all around him, but it was nothing compared to the storm that was raging in his head.

“Never be able to hide it. That’s what the Hatter said,” said Tweedle Dee nervously.

“He’s right, you know, and I have no intention of hiding it. Why should we hide our true selves when people like Rumpelstiltskin are free to be exactly who they are? We won’t hide anymore, everyone will know exactly who and what we are!” Tweedle Dum let loose a chilling laugh.

“I’m scared,” said Tweedle Dee.

“You should be!” said Tweedle Dum. “They all should be!”

Lightning flashed across the sky and a shrill scream rang out from the Tower, hiding the giddy laughter coming from the small, fat figure waddling his way across the bridge.

Robert and Lily had cut across one of the fields to get to the graveyard quicker. The sheep in the fields posed no problem. As soon as they caught a whiff of Lily’s scent, they all headed for the farthest corner of the field and huddled there, silently hoping the wolf in women’s clothing wouldn’t bother them.

Robert didn’t have Lily’s natural ability to see in the dark and he was having trouble avoiding the hundred or so piles of sheep crap that littered the field. After a while, he just gave up.

BOOK: Stiltskin (Andrew Buckley)
2.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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