Puddlebrain

Chapter Thirty Six

With no way of knowing in which direction they were going, the witch and the gnome could only follow the tunnel created by the unfolding branches of the Grimace. Only a few bends broke the continuous line the trees created, the pair had no choice but to go forward and keep moving. The path closed swiftly behind them, forcing them to keep their speed up lest they be impaled upon the twigs which poked out from the wall of trees.

"How far do you think we are from the outside?" panted Puddlebrain.

"It won't matter with those trees chasing us!" replied Billy, his breath a rasping rattle. "If they don't slow down, I'm going to have to make them before they catch us!"

A root sprang up from the ground, tripping him up and sending him sprawling. Puddlebrain paused long enough to help him up and for him to shake off her hands with a grunt and they were running again.

"That told you," she said, her breathlessness disguising the laughter in her voice.

Billy opened his mouth to say something but suddenly there was no more forest.

The trees ended and there was an abrupt feeling of being ejected. He stopped dead and Puddlebrain only managed to avoid running into him by twisting to the side and tumbling to the ground. She landed roughly, her head slamming against the earth. Billy stared, not quite able to understand either his friend's predicament or the absence of the forest. When Puddlebrain didn't move, his senses whirled around from their scattering and returned to his mind. He blinked and shook his head, then knelt quickly beside the witch.

"Don't you go sleeping now," he hissed, not daring to touch her.

Puddlebrain didn't move. Billy reached out, his hand hovering above her. If he laid a finger on her, he was sure she would break. She was just a girl. A girl who could spin a spell, but just a girl. He had spent so long worrying about and protecting her. He watched as she took on the weight of her sisters' resentment and frustration at the loss of their powers. They thought him brusque, he knew. Obnoxious, probably. Many times, he thought they were merely tolerating his presence rather than welcoming him. But he was a gnome. That's how everyone treated him, including other gnomes. It didn't mean he didn't care. Quite the contrary, in fact. The more annoying or biting he was, the more he felt. He was a gnome. Feelings were an itch they couldn't scratch and, as such, they buried them under bandages of annoyance and biting comments.

"Move your noggin," he told her. "You'd better not have broken that ground. It won't take kindly if you've stained that grass with your blood."

Puddlebrain groaned and Billy almost hugged her. It took an effort for him not to throw his arms around her in relief.

"About time," he told her. "No sleeping on the job."

She opened her eyes and looked at him, blinking to clear the blurriness that fuzzed his figure.

"You shouldn't be so boring then," she said quietly.

"Can you stand?"

"Can you?" she asked. "Oh, you already are."

"Oooh, so says the super tall little girl who's laid out as if the sun's going to shine tomorrow and she's just waiting to do top up her tan."

Puddlebrain snorted. It was a combination of laughter and the pain the humour was inflicting on her throbbing head. She pushed herself up, standing unsteadily on legs that felt as if they thought they were still laying down. Billy offered a hand but she didn't accept it.

"I've been around you too long," she said. "I can do this myself."

"At least I've taught you something."

She nodded then instantly regretted it as a wave of nausea threatened to empty the contents of her stomach all over the gnome.

"We need to go," Billy pointed out.

"Then let's do just that."

"Where are we going now? The village?"

It wasn't like Billy to be undecided, or to at least show it. Indecision was a weakness his kind couldn't indulge in. They were easy pickings for other, more focussed, gnomes who would happily take advantage of you if you were prone to the odd pause before choosing which path to take.

Puddlebrain, despite feeling as if she needed to lie down for at least a week, had already made the choice. She pointed.

"There."