An extraordinary tale, p.1
An Extraordinary Tale, page 1
A gnome, a mouse and a skeleton meet on a train
The Fairy Queen’s electrum, the most valuable material in the world, has been stolen. By chance Philbrach Hohenheim, a gnome, finds himself on the trail of the thief. A motley fellowship is formed between the gnome and other creatures. The pursuit crosses lands, times and realities until finally a major puzzle at the borders of the world is solved. On the way, Philbrach encounters giant pigeons, a sentient fungus, a seafaring merman, the Sun’s chariot driver and other helps and hindrances.
Cover artwork: Alison Buck
An Extraordinary Tale
A Gnome’s Odyssey
P.R. Ellis
Elsewhen Press
Also by P.R. Ellis
Evil Above the Stars
1: Seventh Child
2: The Power of Seven
3: Unity of Seven
September Weekes
Cold Fire
In the bleak Long Winter
in Existence is Elsewhen
An Extraordinary Tale
First published in Great Britain by Elsewhen Press, 2023
An imprint of Alnpete Limited
Copyright © P.R. Ellis, 2023. All rights reserved
The right of P.R. Ellis to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, telepathic, magical, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
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British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
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ISBN 978-1-915304-25-4 Print edition
ISBN 978-1-915304-35-3 eBook edition
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This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, governments, research establishments and events are either a product of the author’s fertile imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, institutions, states, places or people (living, dead, or hoo-man) is purely coincidental.
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Contents
Part 1 The pursuit begins
A meeting on a train
The city of the elves
We meet an elven lord
We encounter watchers in our flight
Part 2 Beyond the Parting
An ordinary morning
We go for a drive
The sorceress
In which we find ourselves in new surroundings
In which breathing is a relief
Part 3 The Land of Dreams
I find home is not quite as it was
Aelfed and I converse
We make plans to defeat the sorceress
Preparations for our confrontation with the sorceress progress
Our voyage begins
The sorceress’s spell is upon us
Part 4 The land of forgotten histories
We meet some threatened elves
In which we confront the sorceress, again
In which we take on the hoo-mans
We travel with the Sun
We attempt to alert the peoples to the impending invasion
Our plan takes shape
The sorceress casts her spell
We find time goes on
To Lou
Part 1
The pursuit begins
Chapter 1
A meeting on a train
The woman who sat in the corner of the railway carriage with her eyes shut was attracting a good deal of attention. A band of armoured, outlaw mice scrabbled at the catch of her capacious handbag with their steel-tipped claws. The skeleton sitting beside her swatted at the creatures with its brittle, white fingers with no obvious result.
I leaned against the entrance to the compartment, swaying with the carriage as the train rattled along the rails. From her long-limbed body and pale pink complexion the woman was one of the mages, and she clearly had something in her bag the mice desired. I knew from previous encounters with the creatures that it could only be the precious and magical metal, electrum. The woman obviously had a valuable stash in her bag. With red hair that matched the fur collar of her tweed jacket and the hem of her skirt, she looked a class above the usual incompetent conjurors and miserable magicians that made up her diminishing race, but mice could smell electrum in the next county. They would have been driven into a frenzy by its proximity. Simply telling them to stop would never persuade a fighting mouse to give up its quarry.
I had to act.
I raised the brow of my pointed hat, releasing my flight of dragonflies. They swarmed the mice, emitting tiny gouts of flame. Some of the outlaws defended themselves valiantly, thrusting their short swords at the fluttering insects. Others continued to scratch at the bag while getting a roasting from the dragonflies’ fire. Nevertheless, I could see that my dragonflies could not defeat the mice alone. I stepped forward, brushed a couple of the rodents from the bag and booted them away from the witch. That did the trick. The remaining mice paused and looked up at me.
“Gnome!” one sneered in its squeaky voice. Then they scampered off into the upholstery and were gone. I whistled and the dragonflies returned to roost on my bald head. I replaced my hat.
The mage stirred and rubbed her eyes. “Are we there yet? What is the time?”
The skeleton spoke in a dry, hoarse voice, “Not yet, Madam. It is half past midnight.”
“Then why did you awaken me.” Her eyes opened and she looked up at me standing in front of her. “Why are you standing there?” she added with a tone of disinterest.
“This gnome drove away some mice that were attempting to rob you,” the skeleton explained.
The woman gave the fleshless creature a disdainful look. “What were you doing, Bones? Just sitting idly?”
I addressed the witch. “They were too numerous for your fragile companion, ma’am.”
“Oh, you speak as well as provide protection?” she said, looking me up and down.
“They seemed intent on gaining access to your possessions,” I said pointing to the cloth bag on her lap. It showed little evidence of the mouse raid.
She gave it a cursory glance. “I suppose they would, but no mouse, even one equipped with an electrum blade, could succeed in penetrating it.” She seemed unconcerned about the attack on her person. However, the skeleton felt a need to respond.
“The mice were determined, Madam. They could have caused you some injury if this person had not intervened.”
She sniffed. “In that case, it seems I must thank you for that intervention.” She gave me one of the least sincere smiles I’ve seen.
“It is my job,” I replied, offering an excuse and cover for my presence, “although my usual task is to simply check tickets, not provide protection.”
“Ah, a gnome with a job and public spirit. How rare.” She seemed not to realise the insults implicit in her words nor notice my lack of a ticket inspector’s uniform. Perhaps my face did reveal my emotion because she immediately went on. “I’m sorry, that sounded rude. Please join me for some refreshment.” She raised a gloved hand to indicate the vacant seat opposite her. “Bones, find that bottle of ambrosian gin.”
The skeleton clattered to its feet and reached down a small valise from the luggage rack. It withdrew a glowing bottle of the liquor and two small glasses. The woman held the glasses while the skeleton poured the luminescent liquid. She held one glass out to me.
“I really shouldn’t while on duty,” I said, knowing that I would be beguiled simply by the scent of the fiery liquid assailing my nostrils.
“A gnome refusing the offer of ambrosia,” the woman grinned, “Surely not. Take it and sit a moment so I can thank you for your assistance.”
It was impossible to resist. I took the glass and sat down. “What about you, Sir?” I said to the skeleton.
“How do you expect me to drink?’” Bones replied, “I don’t have any guts. Enjoy.”
I took a sip. The sweet, oily fluid slipped down my throat and filled me with warmth and contentment. I closed my eyes. It had been a busy evening. Surely I deserved a few moments rest.
I awoke to find the compartment empty. Well, not quite. An armoured mouse with slightly singed fur stared at me from the couch opposite.
“A fine example of a gnome you are,” he squeaked.
I yawned and sat up straight. Ignoring his comment, I asked, “Where are they, the witch and the skeleton?”
“Gone,” the mouse replied, “with the electrum, of course.”
I realised that the carriage wasn’t rocking from side to side; wasn’t moving at all. “The train’s stopped,” I said.
The m
I peered into the dark beyond the window. It was a clear night, with a moon. I saw a platform.
“How long since they left?” I asked.
“I thought you’d never ask,” the mouse said. “A few minutes. The ambrosian gin didn’t knock you out for long.”
“It must have been charmed,” I said, “Ambrosia doesn’t usually have that effect.” That was a small untruth. When I have it – which isn’t often – sleepiness does tend to fall on me.
“But you can’t resist it can you? She knew she had you when she offered you the glass.”
“Yes, we may have that slight weakness.” I hauled myself to my feet, still feeling as if I should be asleep. “I must go after them.” I reached for the handle of the door.
“You’re not just interested in checking their tickets are you,” the mouse said.
“No,” I said, “that was a disguise, a ruse to put them at their ease.”
“Like attacking us with your dragonflies was.”
“You were trying to get at the electrum,” I protested while pushing the carriage door open.
“And you’re not?”
I paused. “I’ll have you know that I have been engaged by the Queen of the Fairies to recover electrum stolen from the Palace.”
The mouse laughed. It was a high-pitched squeaking. “She must have been desperate to ask a gnome.”
“A gnome with dragonflies,” I said.
“Ah yes,” the mouse said nodding a grudging agreement, “But don’t you think you could do with some real assistance?”
“Such as?”
“The first platoon of the Grand Order of Renegade Mice.” The mouse whistled. A dozen other armoured mice appeared from the upholstery, brandishing their swords.
“I don’t need your help,” I said.
“Do you know where they’ve gone? Do you have transport to follow them?”
“Er, no and maybe, maybe not,” I replied.
“Then you need me, Major Montgomery Mouse and my fellows.”
I considered their offer. I weighed it up, looked at the pros and cons of working with a bunch of ruthless rodents. I replied almost instantly.
“I accept.”
The mice leapt from the couch in trajectories that saw them land on my arms, my shoulders and the pockets of my velvet jacket.
“Let’s go then,” said the leader clinging to my lapel with all four feet.
I pushed the carriage door open and stepped down onto the platform. It was deserted but illuminated by a line of lamps. I looked towards the end of the station. A silver carriage drawn by two unicorns was lurching into motion. The ghostly driver cracked a whip and the carriage raced off into the night.
“They’ve got away,” I said, again regretting the weakness for ambrosian gin.
“Just for now.” Major Mouse said, now standing on my shoulder alongside my right ear. He let out another piercing whistle. There was no response for at least three moments, then there was a gust of air and a great commotion of flapping. A huge pigeon descended from the dark sky and settled on the platform in front of me.
“Here is our transport,” the Major said to me, then addressed the pigeon. “Do you think you can manage one medium-sized gnome?”
The pigeon turned its head to one side and looked at me with one eye. “It’ll cost you,” it cooed, “that will be two bags of best mixed seed, not one.”
“Don’t worry,” Major Mouse said, “You can have as many bags as you want when we get our hands on that electrum.”
The pigeon nodded its head and crouched down. The mice poured from my jacket onto the pigeon’s broad back.
“Come on,” squeaked the Major. “Get on. We have to catch that carriage before it reaches the Parting.”
I scrambled onto the pigeon’s neck with as much urgency as I could muster. Once my legs were astride its neck its wings beat against the air making a noise like an elephant rampaging through the jungle.
There was little to see as we climbed into the night sky but the silver glow of the carriage speeding along the track. Ahead, in the distance, was the black fog of the Parting.
“Follow that carriage!” cried Major Mouse in his squeaky voice. The pigeon swooped towards it. I held onto my hat to prevent my dragonflies from being blown away, while gripping the great bird’s neck feathers.
While the unicorns drew the carriage at breakneck speed, the pigeon was faster despite – or, perhaps, because of – being encumbered by my weight. We dived toward the carriage, gaining on it.
“Will we land on the roof?” I cried.
“Of course, not,” the mouse squeaked in my ear, “The pigeon doesn’t want to be carried into the Parting. You must leap on to the carriage when we draw close.”
I thought of protesting, but I could see no alternative way of getting aboard. The pigeon flapped its wings furiously, approaching closer and closer.
“Now!” screeched Major Mouse. I released my grasp of the pigeon’s neck and reached down to grab the edge of the carriage roof. My legs slipped from the bird and my knees hit the wood with a painful thud. I was spreadeagled on the roof of the carriage as it careered along the track. Mice emerged from my pockets, forming a rodent chain over the side until the bottom mouse was able to bounce up and down on the door handle.
The door slammed open and the dangling mice flew inside. My heart almost stopped as I eased myself over the roof and scrambled down to join them.
The skeleton sat on the seat, alone.
I drew a breath and cried out, “Where is she?”
“Who?” the skeleton asked.
“The woman, your mistress. You know who I mean.”
“Ah, not here.” I’d swear that the skeleton looked smug, except it had no flesh on its face for making expressions.
“Where’s the electrum?” I asked.
The skeleton shrugged, “I do not know what you mean.”
“It must be in her bag. Where is it?”
“Her bag? With her I presume.”
Major Mouse had climbed back onto my shoulder. He squeaked in my ear. “The Parting is not far away. I don’t know about you, but I have no wish to enter it.”
Neither did I.
“Stop the carriage,” I said.
“Why?” asked Bones.
“We don’t want to be swallowed by the Parting.”
“Ah, well that is where we differ. I am quite happy to travel into the darkness from which nothing returns. An end to existence is an attractive prospect.”
“There’s no time to argue,” Major Mouse squeaked. “We have to disembark now.”
“Alright,” I said, “But he’s coming too.”
I reached through the skeleton, beneath his ribs. My fingers closed around his spine. Then I launched myself through the carriage door.
Neither Bones nor I bounced. Luckily for us, the ground at the side of the track was somewhat boggy. We landed with a languid splash. Well, I did. There were a number of splashes as bits of Bones parted and made their own landings, and there were a dozen plips and plops as the mice reached ground level too.
I sat up in the mud to see the unicorns, whipped by the ghost, draw the silver carriage into the Parting. The black fog closed behind, and all sight of them was lost.
I found I was still gripping Bones’ torso. I hauled myself to my feet and stepped onto the harder ground of the track. A trio of mice rolled Bones’ skull to my feet. I picked it up and slotted it back over the spine.
“Thank you,” Bones said. “As you have prevented my departure from this world, I would appreciate it if you could retrieve my limbs.”
Other pieces of his anatomy were scattered around, gleaming in the moonlight. I picked up his right leg and pushed the hip joint into its socket. I did the same with the left leg. Meanwhile the mice retrieved the arms. I put those back into place and released the skeleton. He tottered on his bony feet.
