The Changelings (War of the Fae: Book 1) (22 page)

I was glad we weren't behind the gnome at that moment because I'm pretty sure its dress or kilt went right up in the back, revealing a lot more gnome than I was ready to see today.
 
Or ever.

"Hi, Gilly," said Tony politely.

Sometimes that kid scared me with his innocence.
 
"Gilly, why aren't you wearing a pointed red hat and red boots?"

Gilly frowned at me.
 
"Ya know, stereotyping be a sign of limited intelligence.
 
I might have asked ye where yer lower back tattoo be or yer lip piercing, but I didna."
 
It folded its short little arms and cocked out one funky-shaped hip in a defiant stance.
 

You've got to be fucking kidding me
.
 
I decided after that move that Gilly must be a girl gnome.
 
Only chicks and seriously bitchy gay guys had that particular brand of sass.
 
Was there such a thing as a gay gnome?
 
Hmmm ...

"Jaaayne.
 
I know what you're thinking, but don't," said Tony.

"Fine," I said, frustrated that I couldn't mess with the gnome.
 
I don't know a lot about these creatures, other than they are usually ceramic and hanging out in gardens, but I was pretty sure a gnome in a dress was hilarious in any social circle, human or otherwise.

"Okay, Gilly the gnome, we are trying to reach a waypoint and you probably don't even know what that is, so I'm wasting my time here, but ... "

"Well, of course I be knowin' what a waypoint be.
 
There be many of them here in the Green Forest.
 
Four in fact."
 
Gilly started looking at her fingernails, which I now noticed were disgustingly dirty.
 
She started chewing on one of them, which was totally gag worthy.
 

I was glad I'd only had a cracker for breakfast.
 
Oh shit, do not think about how nails are like crackers, do not think about how nails are like crackers ...
I started to feel sick to my stomach.

Tony nudged me, getting me back on track.
 

Holy bat balls, the little lumpy chick knows where to go!

"Well, we'd like directions to the first waypoint," I said.

"And which one would that be?" asked Gilly.

"The one on my map."
 
I struggled to pull it out of my bag.
 
"Right here, at this spot."
 
I held the map out to her, stretching my arm as far as it would go, a little worried about the dirty gnome coming too near.
 

Gilly arched her eyebrows, widening her eyes, but she didn't come any closer.
 
Her eyes kept darting to my stick.
 

I put it behind my back, tucking it in my waistband, realizing it worried her.
 
I didn't know why – the worst it could do was scratch her.
 
And her skin looked so lumpy, I doubted it would even penetrate.
 
Ugh,
it was like looking at flesh-colored toad skin.

After the stick was out of sight, Gilly moved forward cautiously to look at the map.
 
She snatched it from my hand and stepped back.

"Hey, that's my map!" I said.

A voice came from behind us.
 
"Doan give 'er that map!
 
She'll ruin it fer certain!"

Tony spun around to see who it was.
 

I glanced back but then returned my gaze to Gilly.
 
I didn't want her taking off with my map.
 
"What the hell is it now, Tony?"

"It's another gnome.
 
I think this one is a guy."

"Eh?
 
What'd ye say there, human boy?"

I could hear the leaves rustle as the second gnome approached.
 
"Ye humans are all the same.
 
Ye come in here, tramping around, making all kinds o' noise, disturbing the peace – doan even have the common decency to introduce yerselves.
 
And now look – ye've gone and given yer map to Gilly here.
 
I hope it wasn't important to ye, because she'll surely never get it back to ye in one piece."

"Shut yer yap, ye old turkey waddle.
 
I'm just takin' a look to see which waypoint they want."

"Well, I'd think that'd be obvious.
 
They'd be wantin' the one by the High River of course, it be the closest one."

"How do ye know they didna want to go to the one in the Dell, eh?
 
That one's the best one by me reckonin'.
 
I'd go to that one if it be me."

"Well it's not ye, is it then?
 
It's these two young humans."
 
The second gnome turned to us now, "And what would two humans be wantin' with the waypoints, anyway?
 
And how did ye get here then?
 
Who sent ye?"

The first gnome chimed in.
 
"There ye go again, giving orders, expectin' people to just jump when ye haven't even bothered to introduce yerself.
 
You know, that's the problem with fa...forest dwellers these days, don't even bother with the niceties anymore ... "

The headache was coming back.
 
"Holy horse shit on a stick, Tony, these gnomes are nuts."
 
They couldn't even hear me, they were arguing back and forth so much about common courtesy and manners.
 
What was it with these gnomes and their manners, anyway?

"Excuse me, sir and ma'am!" said Tony loudly, immediately causing the gnomes to stop talking and give him their full attention.

He started with a small, awkward bow, hurriedly tucking his axe back in his bag.
 
"My friend Jayne and I – I am Tony by the way, it's nice to meet you – would like to humbly beg you for directions to the waypoint by the High River.
 
And if it wouldn't be too much trouble, further directions to the waypoint in the Dell.
 
Please accept my humblest apologies for my late and hasty introduction."
 
He bowed again when he finished.
 

I stared at him, incredulous.
 
He sounded like he was reading out of a book for the Knights of the Round Table or something.
 

He nudged me in the side and said,
"Bow!"
out of the corner of his mouth.

I dropped down into the stupidest looking curtsy you could possibly imagine.

Both gnomes instantly reacted.
 
Huge smiles broke out across their faces.
 
I tried not to grimace at the dirt between their disgusting, pointy teeth.
 
They seemed so happy, almost to the point of embarrassment.
 
I saw a faint pink color rising up on their lumpy facial skin, visible even beneath the dirt streaks.
 

The second gnome was the first to speak.
 
"Sir Tony, it would be our pleasure to direct ye as ye wish.
 
I, Gander, and me mate Gilly, will happily tell ye which way to go.
 
First, ye must know that the waypoints are located equally distant from one t'other in the Green Forest, in the four different territories of the fae folk.
 
Ye and yer lady friend Jayne, of course, be in the territory of the Gar.
 
Welcome to our home."
 
They both bowed.
 
Once again, I was damn glad I wasn't standing behind Gilly and her short skirt.

"The best way to get to the waypoint of the Gar, located at the High River, be to go that direction for seventy-two oaks and fifteen maples, making sure to continue in a south-westerly direction."
 
He finished with a self-satisfied grin on his face and a sharp nod of affirmation.

"Please allow me to correct me mate Gander's directions just a wee bit so that ye will successfully reach yer destination.
 
Ye must, in fact, go only
sixty-one
oaks, and
fourteen
maples, followed by six birch saplings, of course in a south-south west direction.
 
Then fer certain, ye will be at the waypoint of the Gar."

Gander got a grumpy look on his face and turned to look crossly at Gilly.
 
"Dear Gilly, ye know ye be hopelessly incorrect, as usual.
 
Ye know direction is not yer strong suit.
 
Now, if one needs to find a hidden tulip bulb, lost in the Spring frost, or the bones of a woodchuck, then yer the one to call fer certain.
 
But when it comes to finding one's way in the Green Forest, I'm the gnome all the Gar can depend on."
 
He jabbed himself in the chest with his tiny, stubby thumb.

Gilly rounded on Gander with her next volley of arguments against his sense of direction, raising her finger to wag it in his face.
 

Deciding we didn't need to stick around for this lover's quarrel, I said, "Tony, I think it's time we got the hell out of here."

"I agree.
 
Can you get your map?"

Gilly, in her excitement, had dropped it.
 
It was lying on the ground a few feet away from her.
 
I sidestepped over, bending down slowly to pick it up.
 
I walked backwards towards Tony.
 
He took my arm to guide me and we slowly moved away from the gnomes.
 
They looked harmless enough, but their teeth were sharp and dirty and I know for sure I'd want to vomit if either one of them touched me with their creepy, lumpy hands.
 
As soon as we were out of sight of the gnomes, we took off jogging.
 

"Are we following their directions?" I asked, breathlessly.

"Yes.
 
They both said southwest-ish, so that's the way I'm going."

"How do you know?"

"I don't.
 
I'm going the way they pointed."

I didn't count, but I was willing to bet that as we arrived at the waypoint of the Gar, we had passed about sixty-one oaks and a couple of maples.
 
Those two gnomes made a good couple.

The waypoint of the Gar rose up out of the ground in front of us.
 
It was an obelisk landmark of granite or some other heavy-looking gray stone, topped with a metal spike that looked like it was made of brass.
 
It couldn't be brass though, I decided, because it was so shiny.
 
Real brass would have been dark and weathered, being exposed to the elements like this one was.
 
At my dad's house, the one he lived in with my stepmother, he had a brass bell outside the front door.
 
My anal, OCD stepmother would polish it every Sunday to keep it looking perfect, because if she missed a week it would start to turn a funky, mottled brown.

The waypoint was in the center of a small clearing.
 
Where the forest had been full of the sounds of birdcalls, and bird flight, leaves rustling and wind blowing – the space surrounding the waypoint was totally silent.
 
It didn't feel right talking out loud when we arrived, so I started whispering.

"We made it, Tones!"

"Yes, we did."
 
He grabbed me in a side hug around my shoulders.
 

"Hand me one of your flags," I said, reaching into my bag to grab one of mine.

Tony gave me one of his green ones.
 

We walked up to the obelisk together, looking for a place to tie our flags – one green and one purple.
 
The entire surface was smooth and shiny.
 
There was nothing to tie the flags to that I could see.

"Where are we supposed to put these friggin' things?" I asked, looking around.

Tony didn't say anything ... he just pointed.

Above my head and on the side of the obelisk facing away from me was a thick iron ring sticking out.
 
It was rusted, and some of the mottled orange color had moved to the stone where the ring was embedded.
 
It looked really, really old.
 
Attached to the ring were the tattered remains of two flags – one yellow and one pink.
 
Pink wasn't assigned to anyone in our group, but yellow was.
 
Yellow was Jared's color.
 
But these flags looked like they'd been there for a while – faded from the sun and shaggy, their woven threads beginning to unravel.

"Tony," I asked in hushed tones, "do you see what I see?"

"Two flags.
 
Old ones from the looks of it."

"Yeah, but did you notice the colors?"

"Pink and yellow.
 
So?"

"So yellow is Jared's color.
 
And these have been here a while."

"Just because it's yellow doesn't mean Jared put it there."

"But what if Jared
has
been here before?
 
And this is from another test he did ...earlier?"

"Jayne, you're being paranoid.
 
We went over to that table with Niles and picked up bags randomly.
 
I could have just as easily grabbed the yellow flags as the green ones."

"Yeah, but isn't it strange that you, Tony
Green
, got green flags, and I got my favorite color, purple?
 
Don't you find that pretty coincidental?
 
Plus with all of Jared's weirdness going on and ... "

"Enough, Jayne.
 
You're starting to scare me with your conspiracy theories.
 
And I don't mean 'scare me' as in I'm starting to believe you – I mean 'scare me' as in I'm starting to doubt your sanity.
 
Just let it go, okay?"