The Gargoyle’s Heart, Part II

I’ve been enjoying escaping some of the pressures of our current situation with writing lately. I think that’s partly why this story has telescoped out of my usual proportion (there’s even more to come later). It’s not particularly earth-shattering (if anything I ever write is) but maybe it can provide a moment or two of escape for somebody else as well!

The trolls in the dumbwaiter were the first real problem, surprisingly enough.

Soria expected, on entering Lady Geraldine’s castle (which, its owner informed her with an air of modest pride, was possessed of sixteen bedrooms, a library, a dungeon, eight storage rooms, a dining hall, a courtyard, and a monolithic kitchen) that she would probably spend her life scrubbing the place. Nervously she clutched her bags to her and hoped that she was not being lied to.

Her first morning opened in a spasm of pain as her gargoyle heart constricted. But if there was any chance to survive her heart being turned to stone, she wasn’t about to lose her chance.

She struggled out of bed and ventured down to the monolithic kitchen to make breakfast. Afterwards, while she was clearing the dishes, Lady Geraldine produced a list of chores, written in a precise and minuscule cursive. Soria moved her lips to read as she struggled through the cursive, and her face paled. There were forty-nine tasks. Forty-nine, and all to be completed while her heart was slowly consumed with stone. And she was still expected to have dinner and supper ready at exact times as well!

She looked up to see if Lady Geraldine was in any way mocking or snide about this impossible task, and found her employer sipping delicately from a teacup and looking out the window. Soria pursed her lips. Well. She’d said she would do this job. She; she’d do it, and if she couldn’t, well she’d done the best she could.

“I’ll start by cleaning the north tower bedrooms. They’re the furthest out, right?”

Lady Geraldine smiled at her. “An orderly mind, I approve.”

Soria gathered her cleaning supplies and headed off for the northern tower. Lady Geraldine followed. Surprised, Soria glanced at her over her shoulder as they climbed staircase after staircase, winding around and up and across. When they reached the north tower bedrooms, Soria thought Lady Geraldine would go away, but no, there she stayed, through the first bedroom, the second, the third—Soria began to clean with angry energy—she clattered and banged the fire tongs while she cleaned out the fireplace, wrenched the bedsheets off the beds and shook the dusty rugs out the window with such vigor that you would have thought they’d personally offended her. Still, there Lady Geraldine sat, not helping, not speaking, just sitting there, holding her teacup.

So furious was Soria that she nearly tripped and fell down the stairs when she left the seventeenth bedroom.

“A fine job.” Lady Geraldine said, and Soria gazed around wildly.

“I’m finished?”

“With the north bedrooms.” Lady Geraldine said.

Soria glanced out the window at the sun and tried to remember when she’d last heard the castle clock bonging. “That can’t have been but fifteen minutes.”

“Very efficient.” Lady Geraldine said.

Soria stared at her wild-eyed for a moment, and then hesitantly looked back at her list. “I guess I’ll go on to dusting the hallways…”

The entire morning proceeded the same way, and every morning after that. Lady Geraldine followed her around doing nothing. Massive tasks took minutes. Soria found that each day, no matter how absurd her list appeared, she was nearly completed by lunchtime. Magic, she thought, and shivered.

Clearly the castle was thick with it, though she never saw Lady Geraldine doing anything remotely magical. It was always best not to inquire when you were dealing with the magical classes. Everybody had an aunt or a cousin somewhere who’d been made into a toad or something less pleasant because they’d mouthed off to a wizard or a sorcerer or something.

Also, she began to notice the nervous earnestness underlying Lady Geraldine’s autocratic manner; the occasional spasmodic motions she made as if she would like to help but was afraid, and she began to wonder if the older woman followed her around because she was simply lonely.

But magic or not, Soria’s daily chores were all normal household activities. The trolls were not. Two weeks after she’d come to live with Lady Geraldine they sneaked in through a drain and spent a Tuesday night giving each other rides up and down the dumbwaiter, roaring with gravely, hoarse laughter that echoed through the house.

Soria was sitting up, listening to their horrible voices and trembling in fear when Geraldine appeared at her door. The older woman was wearing a bathrobe, carrying her umbrella tucked under one arm, a candle in one hand, and a fire poker in the other.

She handed the poker to Soria. “Here.” She said. “Get rid of those pests.”

Soria stared at the poker (red hot) and back at her employer. “What? I can’t get rid of trolls! I don’t know how to do that!”

Lady Geraldine, blinked, utterly amazed. “Of course you can! That’s what you’re here for!”

So Soria found herself holding a hot poker, creeping through the scullery in the dark with Lady Geraldine (complete with umbrella) creeping right behind her. They could hear the trolls cackling and roaring just ahead. Soria trembled, readjusting her grip on the hot poker.

“Go ahead!” Lady Geraldine whispered behind her, “Attack at once!”

Soria thought irritably that by her tone you’d think Geraldine’s exact idea of fun was attacking trolls in the middle of the night with a hot fire poker. Nonetheless, she took a deep breath, and jumped around the corner waving the fire poker. “Get out!” She shouted—or tried to, it came out as more of a squeak.

In the light of the candle Geraldine held behind her, they dimly saw three trolls, each no more than four foot high, startled into motionless, half hanging off the dumbwaiter, their dark eyes glinting in the candlelight, their horrible snaggles of teeth jutting out of their mouths. Then Soria saw them grasp the truth of the situation; a small young woman trembling with fear could be no match for them.

They leapt for her.

With a shriek of fear she squeezed her eyes shut and whacked out with her fire poker.

To her surprise, there was a crack as the poker connected with a rock-like back. And another crack on the back swing. She opened her eyes then to get better aim, and she whacked and whacked and whacked—and in a matter of minutes, the trolls were clambering down the coal shoot, howling with indignation. Geraldine shouted down after them, “Never come back!” And slammed the door shut with a bang.

“I’ll get him to block—er, I’ll come back down and block that up tomorrow.” She said. “Good work, Soria. Now let’s get to bed and have a nice rest.”

Soria followed her meekly upstairs, still befuddled about the whole experience. And she had not missed Lady Geraldine’s slip of the tongue. In the two weeks she had been at the castle she had seen not a single other living person. Who was this “he” her employer was referring to?

#fairygodmother #fairytale #gargoyle

Part III >