It wasn't much, but it served the purpose. The bits of steel turned red, then yellow, then white, and flowed together into a huge, quivering droplet. Matt could feel a blast of heat; then the bubble was melting its way down underground. Matt could have just let it keep going until it hit the molten nickel-iron core of the planet, of course, but he didn't relish the volcano that would result, so he quickly recited an advertising jingle for a deep-freeze company, and the steam stopped rising from the hole. Matt decided he'd wait for a little while, then kick the dirt in.
Puck was giving him an appraising look. "Well done, Wizard! You are no inept apprentice to this craft, I see!"
"Not as good as I should be." Matt swallowed.
"We must not leave the detritus of evil so close by the holy shrine." Fadecourt sounded numb, but he stepped out through the gateway anyway.
"No, wait!" Matt stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "I don't trust that gravel. Let me see if I can't do this a little more efficiently."
Fadecourt stopped, looking up at him in inquiry, but Matt didn't notice. He frowned out at the mass of detritus, thinking over his verses.
The mass of pebbles glimmered, wavered, and was gone.
Matt exhaled a sigh of relief.
"Where have they gone, Lord Wizard?" Yverne asked, eyes wide.
"Back where they came from, I hope—whether it be a rock quarry, or someplace more sinister." Then Matt managed to smile as he turned his head to look at the manikin on his shoulder—out of the corner of his eye was the best he could do—and was glad that it turned into a real smile of relief and gratitude. "Thank you with all my goodwill, Hop o' My Thumb! That, I certainly could not have done without you!"
"It was my pleasure." Puck grinned, eyes glinting with delight. "What game would you have me play next?"
Malt's smile vanished. "Well, uh—now that you mention it, that was the only problem facing us at the moment."
Puck's face clouded. "You dared summon me for only one easily solved chore?"
Matt suddenly became aware, all over again, of the spirit's ability to wreak massive havoc simply in the process of having a good time. "Well, uh—yes, actually. You see, it was something we couldn't handle alone, and..."
"And would I have the courtesy to quietly fade from sight, now that you no longer have need of me?" The elf's eyes narrowed. "I think not, Wizard! Know that we faerie-folk always claim what's owed us."
"Uh...well, yes, I know I owe you a lot of thanks, but..."
" 'Tis more than thanks," Puck said with a wolfish grin. "Know that, when you accept aid from one such as I, you do incur an obligation to us—and we husband our resources; we stay hard by you, seen or unseen, until you've done by us as we've done by you."
Matt groaned. "Meaning that, unless I get a chance to save you from as much grief as you've just spared us, that you're my permanent companion?"
"Till debt do us part—or its discharge, at least. Yet I, more than any other sprite, grow restless in boredom. You must find occupation for me, Wizard—and if you can find no better diversion for me, I shall have to find my pleasure in tormenting you!"
Matt swallowed heavily, frantically trying to think of a way out.
It was Yverne who found it. "Can you not be patient for a short while? For surely King Gordogrosso will find new terrors to set upon us, and right soon."
"Yes!" Matt agreed with vehemence. "Now that he's finally taking us seriously enough to notice us, we'll probably have one monster after another to fight. At least one a day!"
Puck pursed his lips around a smile, eyeing Matt and considering." 'Tis a better offer than I've had this last hundred years..."
"Take it, I prithee!" Yverne begged. "We shall have need of you right soon, I doubt not—and we would be so very wearied of staying within this shrine, for dread of you."
That decided the issue; Puck's smile disappeared as he glanced up at the statue of the saint, then quickly glanced away. When he looked back, his impish grin had spread across his face again. "Well, since it is a beautiful damsel who doth ask it of me, and a virgin to boot, with all the powers of enchantment that brings..."
Matt tried not to look surprised. He had wondered if a grown woman could be a virgin in Ibile, but Puck had just settled the issue. Considering the elf's earthy connections, he didn't think Hop 'o My Thumb could be wrong about such a thing.
"I shall travel with you!" Puck said magnanimously, then quickly held up a palm, modestly closing his eyes. "Nay, do not thank me—I shall be glad to aid you. Only find work for me, or..." He gave Matt a keen look. "I shall find my own amusements."
Matt didn't have to ask who would be the butt of the elf's humor. But he made himself smile anyway, and beckoned his friends out of the shrine. He turned back to Puck with a smile of welcome, feeling as though he had just tucked a nuclear bomb into his pocket. He promised himself that he would never ask Puck for another favor—owing him one was bad enough.
CHAPTER 16
Goblins in Bondage
Matt checked to make sure his wand was stuck in his belt, then turned back to his companions. "Okay—sun's up. Let's..."
"Shh!" Narlh glowered at him, then turned back toward the shrine, bowing his head.
Matt's voice trailed off; he saw Yverne kneeling at the railing of the shrine, head bowed in prayer. Fadecourt came up silently and knelt on the other side of the gateway.
"What holds you?" Puck demanded, arms akimbo. "Let us be off! The night will come too soon, and with it, the spirits of evil!"
Narlh gave him a glare. "We're thanking the one who protected us from the monsters."
"Why, thanks are welcome, though the victory cost me little effort! But I hear you not."
"They're thanking Saint Iago," Matt explained. "We wouldn't have been alive to call you, if he hadn't kept the gargoyles out of his shrine."
But Puck had already shied away at the mention of the saint. "Wizard, please! Have a care for my ears!"
"He should have a care for his allies," Narlh snorted. "What's the matter, Wizard—think you're too good to give credit where it's due?"
Matt balked; praying at statues ran against his grain. In fact, praying to anything had kind of disgusted him, ever since he'd learned about the development of religion in his freshman college courses.
On the other hand, that attitude had softened a bit, since he'd been in Merovence...
"Kind of hard to take credit, under the circumstances, isn't it?" He sighed. "And calling it `coincidence' is stretching things a bit—here. Sure, Narlh, I'll pitch in." He went back to the gateway.
Yverne and Fadecourt looked up in expectation from either side.
So this had to be a public spectacle, did it?
Of course—he was the leader.
Since when? He didn't remember standing for election. Since he came to Ibile. The whole expedition was his idea. Admittedly, an idea hatched in a moment of very dubious inspiration, but his own, nonetheless. He took a deep breath, looked up at the tranquil face above him, then reminded himself that the statue wasn't the saint, but only a reminder of him. Deliberately, Matt turned his eyes up to the sky. "I thank you, Saint Iago, for your protection and aid. I thank you with all my heart and pray you'll ever be with me!"