She shook her head sadly. “We were wrong.”
“About?”
“Stahlmaus and his men were just here. Apparently, they bullied and threatened everyone in the city with certain destruction if they didn’t give up our location. Of course, they couldn’t give what they didn’t have, and now the whole place is on edge wondering when the army will be back to make good on their threat.”
Alex looked around him. The buildings appeared to be solidly built, and he had a feeling it would take a lot more than threatening words to actually knock them down. “Can they really do that?”
“Maybe if Uncle himself came. Dwarves tend to be a loyal lot, and very few of them are on his side. The real damage is that they’re all so afraid right now.” Celesta sighed and gestured towards the empty streets. “Finding anyone who can help us find the mirror shard or point us in the right direction is going to be exponentially harder if no one will leave their home. Also, there’s much less chance of coffee.”
They started moving slowly down the wide main thoroughfare, finding it similarly desolate the farther they went. A few times Alex heard the sounds of shutters closing forcefully as they passed, and he caught sight of several noses and pairs of eyes peeking at them through barely-open doorways.
As they neared a place where the road branched off in a narrow alley to the right, a soft whimpering cut through the silence.
Alex looked over to Celesta, and in silent agreement they both stepped off the road and into the alley. It was dark, situated as it was between some of the rare two-story buildings in Herbst, and it was full of wooden boards and rough stone blocks. It seemed to Alex as if this particular stretch of space was being used as the dumping ground for materials in a construction project.
The soft crying became clearer, punctuated by sniffles and a few hiccups, and Alex lifted a board aside to reveal a tiny form huddled between the wall and a crate of loose gravel. Large, dark eyes looked up at him in terror from the dirty, tear-streaked face of a boy who looked to be about six years old. His hair was shaved close to his head, more like dark stubble than actual locks, and the clothes that hung off his bony arms and legs seemed to be little more than a series of patches sewn together. He froze for a moment, then tried to scramble further into the corner and threw his arms over his head. His whole tiny body shook with tremors.
“He’s a gnome,” Celesta whispered close to his ear. “If Stahlmaus’ men were here, they would not have treated him kindly.”
“Why not?” Alex kept his voice to a similar volume.
“Gnomes have an affinity for earth due to their natural magic, but they work mostly with dirt and clay. To many elves–especially those who follow my uncle–they are seen as the lowest of the low.”
Anger burned hot in Alex’s chest, and his heart broke at the sight of the terrified child before him. He knelt on the ground a few feet away. Celesta joined him.
“Hello,” he said softly. “My name is Alex, and this is Celesta. We’re not here to hurt you.”
The little gnome peeked at him from under his arms, then hurriedly pulled them back over his face and tried to scoot back farther into the wall.
“Is your home nearby?” Celesta added. “Can we help you find your parents?”
Even after several moments of coaxing, the child was still no more willing to leave his hiding place than before. If anything, he grew more agitated the more they tried to talk to him.
Alex moved off his stiff knees to sit on the ground instead. His arm brushed against the hard lump in his jacket pocket, and an idea sprang to mind. Normally he hated performing for an audience; his music felt too personal and vulnerable. Playing was akin to laying his emotions all out in plain sight, and if there was one thing he knew, it was that being free with his emotions inevitably led to pain.
But the little boy was so lost and frightened, terrorized by bullies who wouldn’t have been there in the first place if not for him and Celesta.It may not even work, he thought as he pulled out his harmonica.But it’s worth a try.
With his eyes closed, he brought the instrument to his lips and the music began. His left hand and arm were still frustratingly stiff, but as long as he had mobility in his right hand, he was able to play. He called to mind the nursery songs his mother had sang to him as a child, comforting lullabies that had calmed his fears and chased the tears away.
The notes flowed from his harmonica, and Alex lost himself in the memories as he played. He played song after song, weaving them together and, when his own heart grew lighter, adding in bits of joyful melody from songs he had sung while playing together with his brothers.
Alex cracked his eyelids open to take a peek at the tiny gnome and was encouraged to see that he had removed his hands from over his head and was now sitting up and watching him with rapt attention. He transitioned into some livelier folk tunes, adding in flourishes and embellishments of his own as the fancy struck him. The little boy slowly shifted closer.
He finally drew the music to a close, and the sparkling notes hung in the air for a moment as he moved his harmonica away from his mouth. Alex opened his eyes fully to find the gnome child seated right at his feet. His wide dark eyes met Alex’s own.
“That was beautiful,” Celesta whispered in awe, looking at him with a starry-eyed expression that made his insides churn. He quickly looked away and focused his attention on the little boy at his feet.
“My name is Alex,” he said again with a reassuring smile. “What’s yours?”
“Diggory.” His voice was lower than Alex expected, quiet and hoarse from crying. He sniffed and wiped his nose with his arm.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Diggory. Can you tell me what happened?”
“I was walkin’ to the smithy to get some tools for my dad, and those elf soldiers came through town. They were yellin’ and askin’ all sorts of questions about if we had seen a ballerina and a soldier come through here or not. They said if we didn’t tell ‘em what we knew they was gonna tell their king to destroy our city.” A frown darkened Diggory’s face.
“I don’t think Prince Ivan or King Nikolai would let them,” Celesta said encouragingly. “They’ll make sure that Herbst stays safe.”
Diggory nodded emphatically, his large head bobbing up and down in a way that was almost comedic. “That’s what I told ‘em. But it made some of ‘em mad, and they pushed me down and called me a ‘dirt eater’ and said if I talked to any of ‘em again, they would follow me home and hurt my mum and dad. Then they started throwing rocks at me and telling me to eat them and laughing. And when I started to run home, they followed me, and I didn’t want them to hurt my family, so I hid.” The little boy started shaking again, and tears formed in the corners of his eyes. “I wasn’t brave like Prince Ivan.”
