Friesner, Esther Chicks 04 The Chick Is in the Mail

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slick with droppings. I crept down the long aisle between the wooden pews, trying to be silent for no
reason. The place had long since been stripped of anything valuable, and I was quite alone.
Three stairs led up to the altar, which was a huge rectangle of weighty marble. Like the floor, droppings
covered it. Birds and bats respected nothing. Shining the lantern around, I recalled Leonardo's map and
its instructions. On the wall behind the altar hung three tall wooden crosses, the middle one slightly higher
than the outer ones. Like everything else, they were covered in droppings.
I couldn't help frowning as I moved to the rightmost cross and leaned against its filthy bottom. A fine
white powder of dried birdshit cascaded down onto my head and shoulders. I leaped away, sputtering in
disgust.
According to my light, the cross hadn't budged so much as an inch.
I cringed inside; I was going to get very dirty. Sometimes it came with the job. I set my lantern on the
altar, and this time planted my shoulder against the foot of the same cross. Another powdery shower
rewarded me. Cursing under my breath even if it was a church, I strained harder.
Old gears gave a metallic screech. The rightmost cross shifted suddenly. I nearly toppled. My screech
rivaled the gears as ancient birdshit accumulated along the cross's horizontal arms rained down. I sprang
away, shaking my hair, brushing my arms. The stuff had gotten into everything, even my boots!
When I looked up, however, the cross's tip had moved to touch the center cross.
Halfway done. I wondered if all the goldfish in Sardeenia were worth this degradation. The leftmost
cross remained to be shifted. Why, oh why, hadn't I brought a raincoat, or a cloak, or accepted the old
woman's offered sweater?
Leonardo was going to pay me double for this!
Trying not to breathe the chalkish air, I returned to work. The leftmost cross proved more stubborn than
the rightmost; my delicate shoulder was going to bruise. But like the first, it eventually lurched into
position and all three came together in a point.
A complaining rumble filled the church; a vibration shivered through the floor. My lantern's flame
trembled and quivered. I lunged to save it, suddenly fearful of the dark.
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The altar stone grated and scraped. It might have been a pit into hell, so black was the hole exposed by
its shifting. Licking the powder that caked my lips, I gathered my courage and crept forward with my
light.
Steps led down into that hole.
One by one, I took them, nervously at first, then more surely, twelve in all. By the time I reached the
bottom and a stony cavern floor, I exhaled with relief. At least, there weren't thirteen, not that I was
superstitious. I gave a little laugh and wiped my brow, surprised to find a few beads of sweat. I raised my
hand to the light and found white paint on my fingers.
Then I spat, nearly gagged. My lips! I'd licked them! I wiped at my mouth. It was no use. Birdshit all
over me!
There was nothing to do but finish the job, get into the castle, and try to discover the fate of Prince
Charming. I'd come this far; no turning back.
The map had been simple. Whenever the cavern forked, I took the left turn and made good time with
my lantern to light the way. Only a few bats quickened my heart, and once a deep crack in the cavern
floor. I leaped it easily.
Then, a sound whispered past my ear. I froze. The sound a voice! came again.
"Here comes Peter Cottontail,
hopping down the bunny trail;
grab him, squeeze him, make him wail,
gut him with my fingernail,
suck his blood and sweet entrails!"
I paused to consider. That wasn't the way I'd learned that song. Goldfish or no goldfish, I wondered if I
should go on. Again, the voice.
"Now I lay me down to sleep
under the earth so cold and deep;
Death is long, and life is cheap;
Shiver, quiver, wail and weep,
Oh, shiver, quiver, wail and weep!"
Someone was trying to frighten me. Well, Bad Rose didn't frighten easily. Besides, I hated bad poetry.
"Oh yeah?" I shouted. "Here's one for you, buddy! Roses are red and violets are blue your momma's a
slut, and your daddy's one, too!"
A pause, followed by a gasp, then a fleshy sound as of a hand striking a cheek in surpise. "Oh my gawd!
You're a girl!"
A figure moved out of the darkness and sashayed to the edge of my light, manlike, but dressed in
out-of-date flared trousers and a pink shirt with ruffles at the neck and the lapels. Gold chains encircled
its gray-skinned throat and sparkled in a thatch of withering chest hair. Jewelry dangled from its wrists.
Rings flashed.
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A stronger iron chain entrapped one of its ankles. Heavy links trailed back into the gloom.
"An old troll," I muttered.
Astonished eyes looked me up and down. "Why honey!" The scary whisper was gone, replaced by an
almost breathless drawl. "When I smelled human, I assumed somebody upstairs had finally remembered
to feed me! They treat me like a dog you know, all leashed up and everything!" It shook the ankle chain
and made a face. "Not that they treat me at all these days, or trick me, either!" It laughed. "It's been
forever since I've seen anyone! Now here you are and so welcome, let me tell you!" It flapped its wrists
until I could feel the wind passing. "Don't you be nervous, either everyone knows I wouldn't eat a girl!"
I wasn't so sure, so I stood my ground. "What are you doing down here?"
It tilted its head. "Why, honey, old King Clarence imprisoned me here to guard his tunnel!" It leaned
forward conspiratorially and cupped one hand to the side of its mouth. "As if his tunnel hadn't already
been breached, and more than once, if you know what I mean! the stories I could tell!"
My mind began to race. I only knew trolls by their reputations. I needed to get by, but I wasn't inclined
to hurt the poor creature if it wasn't here by choice. I edged a step closer to show I wasn't afraid.
"Would you mind . . ."
I'd been a fool, suckered by its most powerful weapon its amusing charm. It had yet more length of
chain, enough to reach me. It lunged. Powerful arms encircled me. The lantern fell from my grip.
In complete darkness, I felt its breath like a cheap cologne on my face. "You said you wouldn't eat a
girl!" I shouted angrily.
"I might keep one around for company," it answered. "I've been so lonely. And later, who knows it's
been ages between snacks!"
I didn't want to hurt it, but it wasn't giving me a choice. "This is no way to make friends!" I warned.
I didn't have enough freedom to draw my sword, but I could raise it a couple of inches from the
scabbard. A bright blue light surged around us. The troll squealed, cast me aside, and scurried back into
darkness. "Dwarf light!" it cried. "Horrid, hurtful dwarf light! Your blade a dwarf forged it!"
It was my turn to laugh as I strode forward. "Not one, but seven dwarves! All your charms can't stand
against its magic!"
It shivered as it cringed on its knees and pressed its head against the ground. Then it wept like any
frightened child.
"Star light, star bright!
Horrid, nasty, dirty light!
Sears the skin, and stings the sight!
I wish I may, I wish I might
Beg mercy from this snow white knight!"
An improvement over his last versification, I thought, and his last line genuinely surprised me. I raised my
arm. In the sword's blue dwarf light, the powdered birdshit that covered me sparkled and glowed! "I
really am snow white!"
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Call me a woman. A man would have simply killed the creature, but my heart went out to it. I offered a [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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