Too Many Curses

Chapter OneMargle the Horrendous had a habit of collecting things. There were his books on various subjects of study arcane and lore obscure. His castle was filled with various monsters, or pieces of monsters, for purposes only wizards might fathom. Other chambers were filled with jewels, enchanted knickknacks, gold and other precious things, and all the peculiar odds and ends that ultimately meant little to wizards yet which they insisted on hoarding. He also had a great assortment of enemies who he had gathered over the years. Margle rarely killed his foes. Death rarely amused him. Instead, he kept them close, a grand collection of old rivals and fallen heroes. And as with all his collections, it was Nessy's task to take care of them.Margle was an exceptionally generous master, meaning that he was generally too busy to bother yelling at her, and when he did, he usually threw things not dangerously hard or sharp and missed more often than not. And Margle was frequently absent from the castle, leaving Nessy the run of the place or at least the rooms that weren't forbidden to her, where she wasn't interested in going anyway because there were certainly many horrors waiting in Margle's castle. There were even one or two rooms the wizard himself never went into. And one place, The Door At The End Of The Hall, that even he avoided going anywhere near.Nessy enjoyed maintaining Margle's vast library. And if she should take a peek at a secret volume or two while alphabetizing the shelves, Margle had yet to notice or care. She'd even picked up a handful of magic tricks. Nothing serious, but small spells of practical use. Feeding the horrors in the bestiary was the worst of her tasks, but even that she did without complaint. It was honest work and gave her a roof over her head and food in her belly, and though she knew that one day Margle would certainly kill her in a fit of rage or for some fiendish experiment or maybe just because it would amuse him to do so, she was glad to have it.Except for the occasional overly chatty gargoyle."Did I ever tell you about the time I slew three ogres while armed with only a wet towel?" Gareth asked."Yes." Nessy polished his stone head with a rag as the gargoyle continued."Well, it was a terrible struggle. . . ." He blathered on for some time, and Nessy nodded as if listening. She pitied the poor soul trapped in a stone demon perched over an archway. Such was the fate of Margle's enemies. At least this particular enemy."Are you listening?" Gareth sighed."No." Nessy was ruthlessly honest, not so much because she valued the virtue as because she seldom considered lying before she spoke."I was a great hero, you know.""I know." She spat in his eye and wiped away the dust."I hate when you do that.""Would you rather have dirt in your eyes?""No.""Well then . . ." She nimbly climbed onto his back and shined his horns. Gareth didn't move, couldn't move. He could only talk, and talk a lot. And stare down the corridor at The Door At The End Of The Hall."Ever wonder what's in there?" he asked as he always did when being polished."Best not to imagine.""Maybe for you. That's all I can do.""Well, maybe if you were quieter you'd get more visitors." Gareth grumbled, "The others are just jealous of my legendary feats."A disembodied voice spoke up. "Ah, yes, that's it. Certainly nothing to do with your personality. Or lack thereof.""Hello, Echo," said Nessy. Margle had taken away everything but Echo's voice. While she lacked anything in form, she was at least free to roam the castle."He's back."Nessy's tall, fuzzy ears cocked. She heard the distant thunder that always signaled her master&Martinez, A. Lee is the author of 'Too Many Curses' with ISBN 9780765318350 and ISBN 0765318350.