A Tale of Two Hoods Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Man With No Name

Stargems burst to life on the walls of the tunnel the instant Rona’s feet hit the ground. She blinked a few times, her eyes trying to adjust to the new source of light. She glanced back at the opening above her. She had grown taller since her first trek down the Dragon Path, but it still sat just outside of her reach. With another person to boost her up, she could have managed, but she’d never brought anyone else to the secret tunnel. She turned back to that tunnel now, and inhaled deeply. Unlike the cemetery above, the Dragon Path was always imbued with a warm campfire smell. It made Rona feel at home, though she’d never ventured outside the gates of Kolor for camping or any other activity. Her parents had forbidden it on account of the monstrous wolf pack that terrorized the forest. And though the Red Cloak wrapped around her shoulders would offer some protection against Maugoru, she did not yet wield the garment’s full power.

Every time she entered the Dragon Path, she hoped to have the Cloak’s powers revealed. And every time thus far she had been disappointed. But perhaps today would be different. Perhaps today she would have something worth trading with the mysterious man who lived in Farlow Castle.

It didn’t take long to reach the end of the tunnel. An iron ladder led her to a thin stone tile that lifted away with a slight push. The stargems extinguished themselves as she slid into the castle, casting the Dragon Path back into darkness. She often wondered if the gems had been enchanted by the Farlows or by the castle’s new owner, but she had never asked. They were certainly enchanted though, as the typical stargem only reacted to darkness, not the presence of people. But it wasn’t the sort of enchantment she was interested in, and so she would not waste time or a potential trade asking about it.

The smell of burning wood disappeared inside the castle, replaced with the stale odor of dust and rotting books. Drawing the cloak tighter, she strode into a familiar hallway in search of the castle’s lone occupant. She’d been coming to Castle Farlow for over a year now, and though she still didn’t know the man’s name, he had never been hard to find. Today she found him in the feast hall, lounging at the head of a long table.

The man with no name wore the same outfit he wore the first time Rona had met him. Brown trousers, worn brown boots and a tattered brown shirt. His chestnut skin wasn’t quite as dark as Rona’s but it did carry a healthy luster of a man who spent hours soaking in sunlight. He stood no taller than Rona’s waist at his full height, and his ears ended in devious points rather than rounding like a regular person’s. The green tinge that constantly shifted beneath his skin and his wicked yellow eyes confirmed that he wasn’t human, and since he’d refused to give his name, Rona had taken to calling him the Imp. Nearly every aspect of the Imp screamed that he belonged in the woods and not a castle. Yet, the golden necklace around his neck and the ring that rested on his finger told a different story.

The Imp opened his eyes as Rona approached.

“You’ve made the journey again I see. And what do you have to trade this time?” he asked.

Rona smiled. The first time she’d snuck into Farlow Castle, she’d wandered for hours half searching for signs of life, half running from the chorus of whispers that seemed to trail her every step. Now she was protected from the security charms that guarded the castle, stopping the whispers. Instead, she just had to tangle with the whims of the mysterious man who sat before her.

“How about a piece of news?” she asked innocently.

The Imp frowned and threw his feet up on the table.

“I’ve already heard about Baron Harkely’s arrival. I’m afraid you’ll have to do a little better than that.”

A sly smirk came over Rona’s face. “I’m sure you kept an eye on the ruckus in the forest last night as well. But I’ll be impressed if you’ve heard the reason for Harkley’s arrival in the first place”

The Imp offered little physical response, except to narrow his eyes slightly. But that was the only indicator Rona needed to see. He was intrigued.

“Are you trading in news or rumors?” he asked.

“I don’t think enough people have heard this to call it a rumor. But I haven’t spoken to Harkley myself to confirm it.”

Wordlessly, the Imp swung himself out of the chair and onto the table in one smooth motion. Rona was always a bit awed by the way he moved, a sort of mystic prancing rather than regular walking. He danced over to Rona and knelt to look her in the eyes. She stared back into the Imp’s golden eyes and widened her smile. Not to a full grin, but enough to project the confidence bubbling in her stomach.

When he spoke, the air filled with the scent of clovers and grass, not especially soothing, but better than most Kolorians’ breath.

“If you’re going to speculate on Harkely, then perhaps I’ll just speculate on the cloak.”

Rona let the smile fade back to a smirk. “You made the Red Cloak, so how can you speculate on it? You know everything about it.”

The Imp abruptly stood up straight and walked away, shaking his head.

“I used to know everything about it, but then I gave it to you. I don’t spend my time watching what you do with it. Do you wash it? Do you sleep in it? Is it happy? I can’t know the answer to these questions. I can only speculate.”

Rona sighed. She’d expected this game, but that didn’t make it any less tedious. The Imp was a hard creature to read. Before the revolution he claimed to have lived in the forest, though there were even fewer records of him than the Farlows. She knew that the Council gifted Farlow Castle to him, and that he’d spent the past thirty years scaring off trespassers. And she knew that he was magic.

The Imp kept walking until he reached the end of the table, where he floated to the floor and continued shaking his head.

“Now if you were to give the Red Cloak back to me, I might be able to figure out all of its secrets. But I cannot make any guarantees,” said the Imp.

Rona followed him out of the feast hall, the cloak billowing in her wake. Despite the lack of servants, every hallway and passage in the castle was kept in pristine condition. There was no dust, no cobwebs, and never any mouse droppings to speak of. She doubted the Imp took the time to personally clean every day, though he did have plenty of time on his hands.

“You can have the cloak back, in exchange for teaching me three spells.”

The Imp gave a short chuckle, more a grunt than a laugh, and glanced back at her.

“That is hardly a fair trade. The Red Cloak has dozens of spells woven into it, I couldn’t take it back for just three. You’d have the histories remember me as a swindler!”

Rona rolled her eyes and pressed on. “Then take the information for a few spells. My source is trustworthy.”

“Your source could know Baron Harkley’s innermost thoughts and still not know the truth. Harkley was brought here by forces he doesn’t fully understand” said the Imp.

By now, Rona knew better than to question the Imp’s unexplained assertions. It just led to even poorer explanations. She chose to focus on the Imp’s bargaining game in the hopes of reaching an actual deal. If she didn’t keep careful watch of the conversation’s flow, it could go for hours. They’d once spent half the day arguing how many fish would be a fair trade for dragon hide.

The Imp led her to a pair of large oak doors, the entrance to Castle Farlow’s main library. The heavy doors flung themselves open as they approached, revealing 20 foot walls stacked to the ceiling with books, scrolls and pamphlets. She’d been in the library on plenty of occasions, and yet the size of it still floored her every time. She followed the Imp over to a reading table, where a pile of tomes sat unopened. The little creature hopped up onto the table and effortlessly leaned against the book pile.

“How about this? You’ll tell me your piece of news, and I’ll tell you a secret about the Red Cloak.”

Rona folded her arms, pretending to consider the offer, before giving a curt nod. She paced around the table as she spoke, the Imp’s eyes following her every step.

“Baron Harkley has come to ask for the Council’s help. For weeks his lands have been besieged by a great beast, and his men are powerless to stop it.”

The Imp narrowed his eyes, and their color shifted. They cycled through several shades until settling on a contemplative grey.

“A beast?” asked the Imp.

Rona nodded and continued her pacing.

“It’s burned crops, killed villagers, stolen from herds. Harkley has tried everything, but now the Council is his last hope” said Rona.

“Did you say ‘burned’?” asked the Imp.

Rona fought to keep a smile from her face. She knew the little creature would take note of that piece of information.

“Yes, I said burned. Harkley insists that his lands are beset by a dragon.”

Rona watched the imp’s face for a reaction, for any sign of surprise or disbelief. But the creature offered nothing, keeping his eyes narrow and his lips even narrower.

“The dragons are dead. I killed the last one myself. What fool is telling these lies in Kolor?” asked the Imp. His voice was devoid of its usual whimsy, replaced instead with a dry seriousness.

Rona stopped right in front of the Imp, matching the seriousness in his voice.

“My source is trustworthy. I can’t say the same thing for Baron Harkley, but that’s the reason he’s come to Kolor. I expect he’ll come knocking on your door once the Council turns him down.”

As she stood there staring into the Imp’s eyes, she felt the temperature drop by several degrees. It wasn’t enough for Rona to draw the cloak closer to herself, but she noticed.

The Imp rose from the table and approached Rona, until he was standing so close his nose nearly touched her stomach.

Nobody is strong enough to conjure a newborn dragon from scratch, not even the Farlows at the height of their power. If a new dragon had been born, I would know about it. Someone is lying to you.”

Rona shrugged. “Maybe so. Either way you owe me a secret about the cloak.”

The Imp stood silently for a moment, no doubt considering whether to honor their deal. Then he sighed and backed away, turning to face one of the bookcases.

“The Red Cloak is imbued with the essence of dragon blood. It will never lose its color and its power increases in the presence of dragons or their remains.”

When the Imp turned back to face her, the wicked gleam in his eye had returned, and a grin spread across his face.

“The Council will no doubt reject Baron Harkley’s request for help. And when he comes to me, I will discover the truth about this so called dragon.”