Free Wizard at Large by Terry Brooks Page B

appear to be on their way to much of anywhere. They were scarcely two miles distant, engrossed in watching raindrops fall from trees and turn into brightly colored gemstones.
    “What?” Ben exclaimed in disbelief, certain he had heard wrong.
    Questor hastily said something to Bunion, listened to the kobold's reply, and turned back to Ben. “They haveopened the bottle, High Lord. They have set the Darkling free.”
    “And the Darkling is turning raindrops into gems?”
    “Yes, High Lord.”Questor looked decidedly uneasy. “Apparently it amuses the gnomes.”
    “I'll bet it does, those little ferret-faced bozos!” Ben scowled. Why wasn't anything ever easy? “Well, so much for getting the bottle back unopened. Now what, Questor? Will the Darkling try to stop us from putting it back in the bottle?”
    Questor shook his head doubtfully. “That depends on Fillip and Sot, High Lord. Whoever holds the bottle controls the demon.”
    “So the real question is, will Fillip and Sot refuse to give the bottle back to us?”
    “The magic is a powerful lure, High Lord.”
    Ben nodded. “Then we need a plan.”
    The plan he came up with was fairly simple. They would ride over to a place just out of sight of the gnomes. Parsnip would remain with the horses while the others went forward afoot. Ben, Questor, and Willow would approach from the front, openly. Bunion would sneak around behind. If Ben was unable to persuade the gnomes to return the bottle willingly, Bunion would snatch it away before they could do anything to stop him.
    “Remember, Bunion, if you see me rub my chin with my hand, that's your signal,”Ben finished. “You get in there as fast as you can and you get that bottle!”
    The kobold grinned wolfishly.
    They turned west, Bunion showing the way, Parsnip trailing with the pack animals, and rode the short distance to where the G'home Gnomes were at play with their treasure. They pulled into a stand of fir behind a low ridge while still hidden from view, dismounted, gave the horses over to Parsnip, sent Bunion on ahead to get into place,and began walking up the ridge. When they reached its crest, they stopped short.
    Fillip and Sot sat beneath a massive old willow, legs tucked up underneath, hands outstretched, laughing gleefully. The old willow's boughs were heavy with rain, and as the droplets slipped free they became sparkling gem-stones. The gnomes tried to catch those that fell close, but most tumbled earthward out of reach and collected in shimmering piles. There were gemstones everywhere, heaps of them, flashing rainbow colors through the afternoon gray and damp, a seeming mirage come to life.
    The bottle sat upon the ground between the G'home Gnomes, forgotten. An ugly, spiderlike creature danced upon the bottle's rim where the stopper had been pulled and flicked bits of green fire at the raindrops. Each bit of fire changed another droplet into a gemstone.
    It was the weirdest scene Ben Holiday had ever witnessed. Fillip and Sot looked as if they had gone nuts.
    “All right! That's enough!” he yelled sharply.
    The G'home Gnomes froze, shrinking down against the earth like wilted flowers. The Darkling crouched catlike on the lip of the bottle, eyes glittering. Ben waited a moment to be certain that he had their attention, then started down the slope of the ridge, Questor and Willow in tow. When he reached the outer curtain of the willow's broad canopy —not more than a dozen yards from the gnomes—he stopped.
    “What do you think you're doing, guys?” he asked quietly.
    Fillip and Sot looked terrified. “Leave us alone!” they cried. “Let us be!” The words all jumbled together as they spoke them, and Ben couldn't tell who was saying what.
    “There is a small problem that needs solving first,”he said evenly. “You have something that belongs to me.”
    “No, no,”whined Fillip.
    “Nothing,”whined Sot.
    “How about the bottle?” he asked.
    The moment he said the word “bottle” the