“To say the least!” piped up Shelyid, as chipper as could be. “Actually, the professor said it was a desperate and foolhardy adventure which he strongly recommended against except for the fact that it’s the only chance anyone’s ever had to study the Place Even Worse Than Hell at first hand so of course it was imperative that we do it.”
Then the tears started leaking out of Gwendolyn’s eyes again. The next thing you know Greyboar’s got his sister enfolded in his arms and he’s whispering promises and assurances.
Disaster!
* * *
Naturally, it went downhill from there.
“Oh, that sounds like fun!” cried Jenny.
“Sure does!” agreed Angela. “Let’s get Eddie, Lester and Frank in here. They’ll be a big help!”
I started protesting right off—not about the dwarves, but the role which Jenny and Angela obviously foresaw for themselves in this madness. But the two girls ignored me and charged out of the room.
“Who are Eddie and Lester and Frank?” asked Magrit suspiciously.
Still embracing Gwendolyn, Greyboar turned his head and explained. Wittgenstein goggled.
“You let dwarves stay here with you? For no good reason except the so-called milk of human kindness?” The nasty little salamander whistled. “Boy, are you a sorry excuse for a strangler!”
“Shut up!” snarled Gwendolyn, glaring over her brother’s shoulder. Wittgenstein snapped shut its mouth and scurried into Magrit’s blouse. A moment later, the witch hauled the creature out and tossed it onto the floor.
“Get away from my tits, you miserable amphibian.”
“She’ll beat me,” whined Wittgenstein. “She’ll twist my tail off.”
I was impressed. I’d never seen Wittgenstein intimidated by anyone before. Then I thought about Gwendolyn’s temper and studied her.
Greyboar’s sister hadn’t changed in the slightest. She looks a bit like Greyboar, what with her eagle nose and her dark, kinky hair and her black eyes. Except that Gwendolyn’s kind of beautiful—in a scary, Amazon kind of way—while Greyboar’s almost as ugly as Shelyid.
Don’t let her good looks fool you. For a woman, she’s a giant. Over six feet tall and built like a tigress. Well . . . if a tigress had a build. And she’s got incredible reflexes for someone as big as she is. Better than Greyboar’s, even. I suspected that Wittgenstein had discovered that the hard way. The thought cheered me up a bit.
Jenny and Angela charged back into the room, with the three dwarves in tow. Eddie and Lester and Frank were kind of confused, at first. But after the situation was explained to them, the confusion vanished.
“Can’t be done,” pronounced Eddie.
“Impossible,” agreed Lester.
“Out of the question,” concluded Frank. “Even if you were willing to get anywhere near Even Worse Hands, you couldn’t get near them in the first place. They’re in the Place Even Worse Than Hell, you know.”
I beamed. “Well, that’s that. Sorry, Gwendolyn, but you just heard it from the experts. Miners, you know, all three of them. Know the tunnels like the back of their hand.”
“Shut up, Ignace,” snarled Magrit.
“Yes, do!” snapped Jenny.
Angela made an apologetic shrug to the crowd. “Don’t mind Ignace. He’s not really a coward. He’s just so greedy that he can’t bear the idea of doing something for free.”
“And that’s another thing!” I cried. “Greyboar’s got a professional reputation to maintain! The Standards Commission won’t—”
“Shut up, Ignace,” growled Greyboar.
Shelyid gave me a wounded look. “You helped steal the Rap Sheet for free, Ignace.”
A stab to the heart. But I rallied. “That was in another country. And besides, the Crud is dead.”
My protests, alas, were ignored. Greyboar plowed right over them.
“Why do you say it can’t be done?” he asked Eddie. “Doesn’t sound all that difficult to me. From what you’ve told me before, all those tunnels link up sooner or later. Sure, it might take awhile. But if we plug away at it, we ought to be able to find him eventually.”
The three dwarves shook their head in unison and began to speak, but the wizard cut them off.
“I fear not, sirrah Greyboar. Indeed, ’tis the very impossibility of the task which has led us to your door.”
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