ARWIN

  The other gremlins bust out ughing, two of them rolling on the blood-spattered floor, clutching their sides as they wheezed and cackled. They sounded both evil and slightly mad. Mad as in crazy, not angry.

  “There, you see? Was that civilized?” The suave gremlin tucked away the wand. “Fun? Yes, delightfully so. But civilized? No, certainly not. I gave in to my penchant for violence, destruction, and death. It’s the kind of pointless death that humans love to exact upon each other with appalling regurity, in complete contradiction to their airs of supposed moral superiority to all other beings. It’s the kind of gratuitous violence that they fill their stories with. As you can see, my less intelligent companions here are all typically entertained by it. Rather than be horrified, they are endlessly amused by the death of a fellow. Just as many barbaric humans are entertained by stories of killing and cruelty, especially when it’s inflicted upon each other.”

  “Sorry, you’re saying that humans aren’t civilized?”

  “Just look at how they entertain themselves! What truly civilized race could possibly find watching hysterical housewives bitch at each other over nothing even the slightest bit beneficial? How does endlessly conversing about wheeled conveyances or antiques or celebrity gossip enlighten us? Why do so many of their stories involve hurting each other? Why does war still exist in human society? And widespread illness, poverty, inequality, and loneliness? Humans are obviously still working on becoming truly civilized. We gremlins deserve our shot too, though it may seem impossible today. But someday, perhaps in the far distant future, with the right kind of cultural experimentation and a little genetic tweaking here and there, we want to find a truly civilized and peaceful mode of existence that we can honestly be proud of. If humanity continues to blunder in its own journey, perhaps we might one day catch up and join them as one of the dominant species of Heartstone. Or even repce them.” The gremlin leaned forward, hand on the edge of his mouth, and stage whispered, “Probably won’t be that difficult, really. They’re easily distracted by fatty meat, bright lights, and shiny objects.”

  Arwin felt gremlin brains sliding down his cheek. He carefully wiped it off. “But I meant: what do you want with me? As in — now.”

  “Ah!” The gremlin adjusted his gsses. “Quite simple: we’re here to fetch you for breakfast at the mistress’s request. She sends her apologies, but she’s too busy to come for you herself at the moment. She’s already immersed in her b for the day. And the usual guard spiders are on errands, so I came for you.”

  “So you’re not here to eat me?”

  “My dear boy — no!” He ughed. “If we were here to eat you, I would have skipped the monologuing and simply dug in lest my compatriots all get to the good parts first.” He leaned forward and spoke conspiratorially, evidently a habit he enjoyed. “I’ll tell you a secret. Humans are a lot like fish; the cheeks are a delicacy.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “But the eyeballs, too, are quite delicious.”

  Arwin shuddered.

  The tuxedoed gremlin led the way upstairs.

  Arwin’s curiosity got the better of him. He directed it towards the short monster in gsses. “You don’t seem to be like the rest of the gremlins.”

  He readily agreed, “Oh no, I’m not. I once was. But my current, greatly superior intellect was bestowed upon me by the mistress while she was investigating magical enhancements to the brain some years ago. As, I was the only success. She eventually put her research project on hold because too many of us, rather than follow in my brilliant footsteps, became the drooling, primordial savages that googly eyes back there was a typical example of.” He nodded back in the direction of the now headless corpse.

  “I see.” Arwin nodded. “ So, um, do you have a name?”

  “The mistress refers to me as Brainy. I hope she does so with a certain amount of affection and not sarcasm, though that may be my own wishful thinking. My official titles, admittedly given to myself, are Castle Chamberin and Dungeon Master. I handle routine matters regarding the administration of the castle and the creatures who serve her, what few we have. And I deal with guests, both official—” he broke off as a piercing scream sounded from elsewhere in the dungeon, “—and unofficial. The tter are far more common. Thieves, assassins, and, worst of all, adventurers.” He chuckled. “Not that there’s any difference between the three. I think adventurers just spend more time looting ruins and coming up with good-sounding reasons to justify all the killing they do instead of simply admitting it’s about the money, the way a rogue does.”

  Arwin followed Brainy up into the castle proper. They only went as high as the ground floor, then made their way past the throne room, through a hall, and into a small room, half attached to the castle and half jutting out into a private garden.

  “The lower sor,” Brainy announced and waved his charge inside.

  The room wasn’t rge. While the castle wall was made of stone, the other three walls and ceiling were of heavy gss and wrought iron, like a greenhouse. The lower half of the walls were thickly overgrown with vines, a few deep red flowers amongst them. Arwin could see that it had been raining sometime overnight, though the sky was clearing, and the sun now poked through, bright and promising.

  A hearth had been set at one end of the room. In the middle was a thick wooden table for six, very well used, the kind of thing you’d expect to see in the servants’ quarters or a regur house. There were a few bookcases, a small rack of wine, and a deep love seat that sat in the brightest part of the room, close to the hearth. The pce felt cozy and warm, especially with the morning light filtering in all around.

  “A sor?” Arwin wasn’t familiar with the term, not having lived in a castle before.

  “A private room where one can get away from the hustle and bustle of the rger spaces. Useful for quiet or cndestine meetings during a rger event, for a bit of peaceful study with the garden view, or maybe for a quick but hearty shag during a party. Or, a good pce for breakfast and a book in the sun.” He pointed to a set of dishes already id out on the table.

  “Thank you,” Arwin said, unsure of what else to say.

  Brainy proudly noted, “Mistress will be busy most of the day, I assume. She always is. Quite the accomplished workaholic. She has instructed that you will remain here, and only here, for the day. She may or may not invite you to lunch as her schedule sees fit.” He looked pointedly at Arwin and gave him a deadly smile. “I strongly advise against trying to wander off. It may be tempting to explore the castle on your own, but I remind you, you are never alone here. And if you are not happy to remain here, you will be removed back to the dungeon from whence you came. We are never short on manacles.”

  “Uh, great. Thanks. I’m sure I’ll be fine here. Will Yaz be coming too?”

  Brainy cocked his head to the side. “Yaz?”

  “My friend. We were captured together? Handsome, really nice guy, animated skeleton?”

  The gremlin’s face lit up. “An animated skeleton?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “He can move well? How are his communication skills?”

  “Of course he can move. And talk. I mean, he’s exactly like you or me, just fleshless.”

  “Astounding! Delightful!” Brainy’s eyes gleamed. “I shall have to introduce myself. This is just what I’ve been looking for!” Without further ado, he dashed off.

  Huh. That had been weird.

  Arwin sat down at the table. He found a pte of what looked like ham and eggs, except that both were green. He stared at them for a long while. Had she—? Because st night they’d joked about—? Nah, it had to be a coincidence, right? He smiled to himself and dug in. That woman really was full of surprises.

  Despite the colour, the food tasted normal, and he was reasonably certain that it was actually ham and eggs. After eating, he wandered about the room. He admired the small garden outside and the vines creeping up the gss. He examined the many books. To his surprise, he was able to read all of them as if they were written in English. Surely they weren’t, of course. Must be magic at work.

  He found a variety of texts, from novels and poetry to geography and history. He lost himself for an hour or two reading up on this new world, learning about Heartstone. It was tremendously fascinating stuff. He could truly have spent all day here.

  However, he couldn’t forget his real purpose: finding Epheria. Though part of him loathed turning his back on the knowledge, he put the books down and went to the door.

  He put an ear to the wood and listened for a while. No chittering. No tell-tale tapping of spindly legs on the stone floor. No growling or cackling from gremlins. With studied innocence, just in case, he opened the door and took a look outside.

  The hallway was barren of people or creatures. He looked right; he looked left. All was quiet.

  Wanting to rub his hands together with glee at his good fortune, he stepped out and stealthily made his way down the hallway.

  A white rope dropped down in front of his eyes, and he jerked back in surprise. Then the rope tightened around his body, trapping his arms against his sides, and he was jerked right off his feet and into the air.

  He looked up and found one of the guard spiders above his head, easily clinging to the ceiling. It had ssoed him with spider silk.

  Arwin had completely forgotten that his captors could move in all three dimensions as easily as he himself could move in two. He should have checked above him.

  With an angry chitter, the spider sped along the ceiling, back in the direction Arwin had come from: to the dungeons.

  “Wait! Wait!” Arwin shouted.

  The spider ignored him.

  “I was just looking for the bathroom. Bathroom. Toilet!”

  The spider halted, the momentum causing Arwin to swing beneath it like a pendulum. Eight eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  “Toilet?” Arwin asked, the very picture of innocence.

  Grumbling, the spider turned around and dragged Arwin in the other direction.

  Arwin let out a relieved breath. Well, so much for sneaking around on his own.

  Spiders. Why did it have to be spiders? He would have preferred snakes.