father is such a fool,’ said the cat.
‘I know,’ sighed Paladin. ‘And the king. Any suggestions?’
‘You could get out and I could take you down the wall,’ said the cat, flicking an ear. ‘But that wouldn’t save your father.’
‘No,’ sighed Paladin. He put down the spindle and brushed his brown hair off his face. ‘Much as I blame him, he is my father.’
‘I could ask for some supernatural help,’ suggested the cat diffidently. ‘But it comes with a price.’
‘What sort of price?’ asked Paladin. ‘If it’s organs or body parts, I might as well jump from the tower.’
‘No, no, probably just your jewellery,’ said the cat. ‘Make up your mind, I’m just borrowing this cat, and he has other things to do - kittens to father, male cats to fight, you know how it is.’
‘Oh, my dearest Tuatha, I wish you were here! I wish I could touch you, kiss you, if this is to be the end.’
‘Paladin, my lamb, you know you can’t touch me,’ soothed the cat. ‘Not until you - decide. And I’m not taking you out of human to save you; that never works, they all end up wishing they could die and hating their Tuatha. So, shall I call on a gnome?’
‘Call,’ decided Paladin. Making a private vow that if he did get out of this, he would find the Fae and fling himself at his immortal feet and beg for an embrace.
The cat jumped into Paladin’s lap, ran a purring nose along his jaw, bit his earlobe, then jumped down and leaped out the window.
There was a flash, a puff of peppery smoke, and a small cross man stood before him. He was wearing a red gown and had his slippers on the wrong feet. His pink nightcap was crooked.
‘What?’ he growled. He had obviously woken up on the wrong side of his mushroom.
‘Spin straw into gold,’ said Paladin, indicating the heap.
‘That king,’ said the small man, with a grin, ‘is such a fool. All right, standard fee.’
‘What’s the standard fee?’ asked Paladin warily.
‘Your ring,’ replied the gnome. He leaned forward and licked the gold ring on Paladin’s finger, showing long pointed teeth, and suddenly he wasn’t at all comic. Paladin wrestled the damp ring off and dropped it into the gnome’s hand. He really didn’t want it any more.
‘Right, out of the way,’ said the gnome. He snapped the ropes with thumb and forefinger, shoved Paladin out of the chair, and he sat amazed on the cold stone floor as there was a blur of motion, the spindle rocked, the wheel whirred, and the pile of straw diminished as the spool of gold thread grew. It couldn’t have taken more than ten minutes.
‘Simple,’ said the gnome. He approached Paladin and thrust his face close to the young man’s neck. ‘You smell delicious,’ he said.
‘Thanks!’ squeaked Paladin. There was another flash and more of the peppery smoke, and the gnome was gone.
Paladin curled up in his cloak and slept uneasily until morning. He had a feeling he wasn’t out of this situation yet.
He was, of course, right. Presented with a spool of undeniable gold thread, the king locked him in another tower, with a much bigger heap of straw. This time he was not bound, and even provided with supper and wine. He had not been allowed to speak to his father, who was - horribly - boasting of his son’s amazing skills even now, when the said son was running out of bijoux to bribe the gnome.
‘Again?’ sighed the cat.
‘Again?’ asked the gnome as Paladin sneezed in the peppery smoke. ‘That king is a greedy moron. There’s a limit to how much straw even I can spin. Luckily he hasn’t reached it yet. Usual fee?’
‘Which is?’ asked Paladin. The gnome was making his skin crawl by the way it was grinning at him.
‘That necklace. It’s old - I like old - let me taste it.’
Paladin ripped it off his neck and the gnome looked disappointed. He put the necklace into his mouth, nevertheless.
And then the wheel whirred into motion, the spindle rocked, the pile of straw diminished, and ells and ells of gold thread spooled off into Paladin’s hands.
‘By tomorrow,’ said the gnome very quietly, ‘the king will demand that you spin more straw, you won’t have anything to trade.’
‘And then your fee would be?’
‘To have you,’ said the gnome. ‘To taste you all over. And to bite three bites out of your flesh - wherever I choose.’
‘Well, I’ll just have to die then,’ said Paladin. He could imagine where those three bites of flesh would come from. He had no fancy to bleed to death, castrated, on this tower floor. He could always jump. That wouldn’t take anything like as long.
‘I’ll make you a wager,’ said the gnome.
So close, it reeked of decaying leaves, stagnant water, and blood. Paladin tried not to breathe.
‘And that would be?’ Paladin was pleased that his voice sounded almost steady.
‘You have three tries,’ said the gnome. ‘You have to guess my name. Accept?’
‘All right,’ said Paladin. If he stood directly in the window embrasure, he would be able to leap, if he guessed wrongly, before the creature could lay a fang on him.
The peppery smoke made him sneeze again. Sneezing, he called on the Tuatha. Soon an owl landed on the sill. It mantled, ordering its wings, then hopped down onto the arm of the chair.
‘Too far for a cat to climb, this tower’s higher,’ it remarked.
‘Tuatha, what is that gnome’s name?’ demanded Paladin.
‘I don’t know,’ said the owl. ‘They don’t usually have names. Why? Is it important?’
‘Very,’ said Paladin, and explained.
‘And I can’t help you,’ said the owl sorrowfully.
‘Why not?’
‘Magical bargain, my own darling. I am forbidden to find out for you. But I can give you a hint,’ he said. The owl preened briefly.
‘Yes, give me the hint. And if I get out of this, you are turning me, no argument, all right?’ said Paladin, tearing at his hair.
‘Yes, oh, yes, my love,’ soothed the owl. ‘You can do this. Your mother gave you something when you were born, you’ve never used it. Not an object. A talent. Stand at the window and look. Look deep.’
‘Is that all?’ cried Paladin, dismayed.
The owl flew up to his shoulder and ran its beak along his neck, fluttering its soft feathers against his cheek.
‘Soon,’
