Fillip and Sot collapsed prone upon the earth, tiny bodies shaking from head to foot. They went down so fast it looked as if their feet had been yanked from beneath them.
“Great High Lord!” cried Fillip.
“Mighty High Lord!” wailed Sot.
“Our lives are yours!” sobbed Fillip.
“Yours!” sniffled Sot.
“Forgive us, High Lord!” pleaded Fillip.
“Forgive us!” echoed Sot.
Now that’s much better, Ben thought, more than slightly astonished at the rapid turnabout. A little intimidation seemed to go a whole lot further than a reasonable explanation with the G’home Gnomes. He was a bit ashamed of himself for having had to resort to such tactics, but he was more desperate than anything.
“Get up,” he told them. They climbed to their feet and stood looking at him fearfully. “It’s all right,” he assured them gently. “I understand why this is confusing, so let’s just put it all behind us. All right?” Two ferretlike faces nodded as one. “Fine. Now we have a problem. Willow — the pretty sylph — may be in a lot of trouble, and we have to help her the same way she helped us when the Crag Trolls had us in their pens. Remember?” He was using that word “remember” a lot, but dealing with gnomes was like dealing with small children. “She’s gone down into the Deep Fell in search of something, and we have to find her to be certain that she’s all right.”
“I do not like the Deep Fell, High Lord,” complained Fillip hesitantly.
“Nor I,” agreed Sot.
“I know you don’t,” Ben acknowledged. “I don’t like it either. But you two have told me before that you can go down there without beeing seen. I can’t do that. All I want you to do is to go down there long enough to look around and see if Willow is there — and to look for something that I need that’s hidden down there. Fair enough? Just look around. No one has to know you’re even there.”
“Nightshade came back to the Deep Fell, High Lord,” announced Fillip softly, confirming Ben’s worst fears.
“We have seen her, High Lord,” agreed Sot.
“She hates everything now,” said Fillip.
“But you most,” added Sot.
There was a period of silence. Ben tried to imagine for a moment the extent of Nightshade’s hatred for him and could not. It was probably just as well.
He bent close to the gnomes. “You’ve been back to the Deep Fell, then?” Fillip and Sot nodded miserably. “And you weren’t seen, were you?” Again, the nods. “Then you can do this favor for me, can’t you? You can do it for me and for Willow. It will be a favor that I won’t forget, I can promise you that.”
There was another long moment of silence as Fillip and Sot looked at him, then at each other. They bent their heads close and whispered. Their nervousness had been transformed into agitation.
Finally they looked back at him again, eyes glinting.
“If we do this, High Lord, can we have the cat?” asked Fillip.
“Yes, can we have the cat?” echoed Sot.
Ben stared. He had forgotten Dirk momentarily. He glanced down at the cat, and then back at the gnomes.
“Don’t even think about it,” he advised. “That cat is not what it seems.”
Fillip and Sot nodded reluctantly, but their eyes remained locked on Dirk.
“I’m warning you,” Ben said pointedly.
Again the gnomes nodded, but Ben had the distinct feeling that he was addressing a brick wall.
He shook his head helplessly. “Okay. We’ll sleep here tonight and leave at daylight.” He took an extra moment to draw their attention. “Try to remember what I just said about the cat. All right?”
A third time the gnomes nodded. But their eyes never left Dirk.
Ben ate another Spartan meal of Bonnie Blues, drank spring water, and watched the sun sink into the horizon and night settle over the valley. He thought of the old world and the old life and wondered for the first time in a long time whether he might have been better off staying where he was instead of coming here. Then he pushed his maudlin thoughts aside, wrapped himself in his travel cloak, and settled down against the base of the stump for an uncomfortable night’s rest.