PREVIOUSLY in Chasing Gnomes... [in the cute voice of Ell-Jay the gobbit]

Me and my lady boss Rozlyn broke into a local crime lord's house. That's pretty bloody dangerous, but I get the impression she, like, really needs the money. She's mean to me but I think she likes me, really. We went there to steal something from this big safe, and she brought me 'cause I fit in her carry-pack and I'm good with locks. Anyway, we found the safe in a big office full of rude artefacts, but when I got close to it, there was a big pain and an alarm in our heads, and I fainted.

So here's the situation. I'm unconscious on the floor, guards have run in with a hunky young crime boss and surrounded Rozlyn, and she's busy dishing out some smack talk - or flirting, I'm not sure which - while she tries to figure a way out of things.

AND NOW, in Chasing Gnomes...


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"Magic," I did my best to spit the word. "You used magic traps." I could feel a swell of sickness and resentment dancing in the pit of my stomach, reminding me of the time ... no, you don't need to know about that. "That's cheating."

He laughed with what looked like genuine mirth. "Cheating? You broke into my family's house."

"Yeah, well it gives you an unfair advantage." The Bass family - lords of crime and all-round lunatics - were more established than the government, at least in the town of Pennylast. Treated more like celebrities than violent criminals, they'd been accumulating the town's wealth for generations by methods various and nefarious. Now, two of those generations - brothers Bariston and Billy, and their nightmare father - ruled this place with rods of iron and other materials.

He'd been nodding away while I pondered exposition. Something in his expression told me he was playing for time.

"It's okay," I said. "If you can't come up with a witty retort, I'll settle for a threat."

"I bet you've been wondering why the rug is red." His beautiful eyes looked a little desperate - he'd used that line before.

I almost laughed. "Let me guess. This is where your father decides the fate of people who've crossed him and a red rug saves you on cleaning bills. All you need is a fish tank against one wall and this room would be AMAZING, darling." He looked stumped for words so I carried on. "All I want to know is whether you're Bariston or Billy." I batted my eyelids at him. "Are you the charmer or the psycho?"

"Oh, I'm the psycho." He was confident once again, one hand curling around the pommel of his sheathed weapon.

I flexed my fingers on the grips of my dirks, preparing for combat. "Really? Sounds like something a psycho would never say."

"Well," his nostrils flared and his eyes looked colder than an ice coffin. "I suppose we'll find out, won't we, Honeytits?" He moved forward, sword sliding from its scabbard, but I stopped his approach with a laugh and a held up hand.

"Wait a minute, hold the fight. Just..." I bit down hard on the giggle trying to escape my mouth but I know it was written all over my face. My shoulders were shaking like nervous jumping beans. "Honeytits - seriously?" I barked out a laugh. "What, are they sticky and semi-set? Would you steal them from beehives?" I could see the colour rising in his face and the guards around me were shifting uncertainly. I'd caught him short but it wouldn't last long. "Do you have them on toast in the mornings? I mean, really - Honeytits?" My fingers squeezed and released. "You really haven't-"

I twirled on the spot, hurling one weighted dirk at the head of a guard behind me. The pommel took him centre-face, obliterating his nose in a fountain of crimson. Not waiting to watch the rest, I hurled myself shoulder-first across Elljay's flaccid form, slamming into the chest of the other rear guard. He fell to his back with me backwards on top of him and I heard his head thunk against the floor. Feeling him lift, I snapped my head back, cannoning his skull into the floor once again. Another guard loomed above me so I rolled back onto my shoulders atop my now-unmoving cushion, curled back my legs, and sprang upward, uncoiling my body to put every ounce of my strength behind my heels. They caught him square beneath the jaw and he disappeared backwards, colliding with the remaining guard on the way.

I sprang to my feet, weapon held out to my side, feeling my chest panting as shock, fear and desperation competed for adrenaline. I caught the eye of Billy/Bariston, still standing in the exact spot he had before I moved, watching me with something like excitement in his gaze.

"...Thought this through," I said, trying to catch my breath.

Let me tell you something about hand to hand combat. It's faster than a cheap vindaloo, frightening, and about as much fun as a cactus dildo. Even lunatics avoid it when possible because, frankly, you never know who might win. I'm pretty damned fast, I know how to handle my weapons, and I play dirty whenever humanly possible, but I'm never stupid enough to think that's enough. This guy, though, had the look of a born scrapper. Faced with a potentially deadly situation, he looked like a puppy who just got away with humping his owner's leg. He wanted to fight - he enjoyed it.

Two guards looked unconscious and the one without a nose chose wisely to pretend he was. The fourth was picking himself up from the floor with an expression like a bulldog licking piss off a thistle. I nudged Elljay with a foot. I needed him walking. If that wasn't going to happen, perhaps he'd make a helpful thrown weapon or trip hazard to aid my escape.

"Argh," he mumbled, almost imperceptibly. "Me left bumcheek!" I chuckled inwardly - he was okay.

Hazel-eyes was giving me a slow clap. "Maybe we need new guards after all." He blew me a kiss. "I think me and Dennis here can take care of you, though." The wink he gave me carried more threat than any of his words. "We know how to treat a lady." All at once, his beautiful body was a stalking predator's as he dropped to a fighting crouch and slunk sideways, mouth fixed in a terrible grin.

Damn it!

"Elljay," I said as calmly as I could, "get up." The gobbit clambered to his feet and grinned. Hazel-Eyes looked at him briefly and appeared deeply nauseated, but soon turned his attention back to me. The remaining guard was closing in on my other side, angry and ready. It seemed I'd taken out the rubbish fighters and been left with the two biggest threats.

"Sorry boys," I said quietly, "I never agreed to a threesome. Elljay, RUN!" He bolted between our enemies, distracting them momentarily, heading for the corridor. I took the opportunity to launch myself towards the guard. His expression went from serious to a genuine look of comic terror. It was all I could do not to burst out laughing. He wailed slightly and curled up ready for impact, but I was already switching direction, leading with my dirk as I charged at Billy or Bariston or Hazel-Eyes or whatever I was meant to call him.

He twirled his sword, deflecting my blade downwards, but he couldn't stop me crashing into him. As he staggered back into a wall, I kept moving, heading for escape.

Ahead of me, Little-John still hadn't made it to the corridor.

"Run faster," I shouted as I caught up.

"I can't - my legs are only eight inches long."

I sheathed my weapon. "I bet that's what you tell all the girls." My carry-pack and one of my prized dirks were still on the red rug behind me but there was nothing I could do about that and we'd never escape at our current pace. Needs must when the devil farts in your coffee. I picked up the gobbit by the scruff of the neck, ignoring his shriek, and stuffed him roughly down the front of my chest armour.

"It's a miracle!" said his muffled voice, but I was too busy running to take much notice. I could already hear footsteps chasing us. This was not good. I pounded past the rude and violent tapestries, doing my best not to get distracted by all the cocks, creatures and inventive acts performed between them.

Little-John shuffled round in my bust so he could look up at me, his little face bouncing away between my chest pillows. "Where are you taking us?"

I swallowed the lump of revulsion in my throat. "To the poop chute."

"And beyond?"

"I hope not!" We reached the privy and I swept the curtain aside. A single glance was enough to tell me my metal tits would never fit down the hole - especially with a gobbit for extra padding. "If you breathe a word of this," I said, reaching behind my back with one hand while I grabbed out my weapon with the other, "even to your horrifyingly cute mother, you'll be deader than that guard."

"What guard?" he asked, huge eyes questioning. I turned and let fly with the dirk in my hand. I almost felt sorry for the fourth guard - it was his misfortune to be the closest enemy behind me and I wasn't in the mood to hold back. All fourteen inches of my blade crashed through his face like a beaching ship. His feet flew up in the air and blood sprayed around the corridor in twirling streams.

I turned back as my other hand finished its work. My chest armour came loose and Little-John fell away with it, his eyes growing even bigger as he dropped. "It's a miracle!" he said, and then was swallowed by the privy hole, metal cups enclosing him in a slightly sweaty egg as he slid from view.

A glance over my shoulder showed me Hazel-Eyes, taking in a good look at my topless stance. His gaze travelled down my back and I saw his recognition of what was there. The merest hint of respect showed in his expression, but there was nothing of friendliness there. Whatever else was true, he'd never forget me now. He pointed at me and a quiet moment ruled between us. I nodded back, matching his flat stare. Then I jumped forward, following my diminutive companion into the shitty darkness below.