The Perfect Assassin Part 12

Chris really never liked Mr. Thumb, and so she wasn’t very distraught that I had suddenly “vanished” him or whatever it was that I had done to him. The gnomes left us alone for the most part, they understood that Mr. Thumb had been training us and they knew that we were guests in Mr. Thumbs home. However, they definitely seemed more leery around us, me in particular. I was glad, I definitely didn't want to get on the bad side of the gnomes again, I sort of like the way my face looks with the nose still attached.

We looked around in the woods surrounding Liberty for Mr. Thumb, hoping that perhaps I had merely made him teleport to a different location rather than cause him to cease to exist. My secondary power was clearly more powerful than either of us had imagined. Of course, it was just as difficult to replicate, like trying to squeeze a watermelon through your nostril difficult. 

I tried to make several boulders disappear after the incident by focusing really really hard, I only managed to give myself a splitting headache. I decided to stop least I give myself an aneurism. It appeared that I had to be extremely irritated for my second power to function properly.

“Well what do we do now?” Chris asked after we had searched the entire forest for the thousandth time that day. Mr. Thumb’s gnomes also helped us search, their squeaky incomprehensible voices echoing mournfully through the trees. Only Mr. Thumb would be able to understand what they were trying to say.

“Let’s go back to the house and get something to eat.” I replied tiredly.

Mr. Thumb’s estate was a very pleasant stately home. Despite his obvious insanity it appeared that Mr. Thumb did quite well for himself by selling his gnomes. I wondered if any of the people who bought the gnomes realized that they were actually alive…

“Mr. Thumb might have been crazy,” Chris said over our dinner that night. "But at lease he did help us to do something… Now that we don’t have him it’s like we’re lost in the middle of the desert not knowing which direction to travel."

We sat in the dining room, a long dim room. Light dimly shone from large glowing crystal chandeliers from above. Paintings of former Crazy Thumbkins stared down at us from their portraits, many of their eyes were pointing in opposite directions I noticed idly.

“Yes.” I agreed wistfully. “Maybe you could have a look in your crystal ball and see what we need to do next. I could write down everything that you see so that we don’t forget.”

“I’ve already tried that and I didn’t see anything. The future for us is a big, blah…”

Silence ensued, for a brief moment, before it was suddenly broken by a voice as smooth as quicksilver in the dusky light. “That’s because I’m afraid the road ends for you to here…” the man’s voice said in the shadows at the other side of the long dining room.

I turned almost choking on the piece of meat I had been chewing. I hadn’t even noticed the figure sitting at the head of the long banquet-style table. He had been watching the whole time as we ate. It was really quite remarkable that the gnomes of the house had not noticed him either.

The man was swathed in the shadows but I could make out in the dim lighting that he wore a white powdered wig. He wore a navy blue elongated suit coat made with intricately woven fabric, and sported a high collar and a vest underneath with a silver chain leading into the pocket. Like Lord El Stinko he wore a frilly cravat at his collar, which gave him an aura of importance and menace, pinned down with a sapphire gem.

In his hand he held a monocle on the end of a long silver pole, which he was examining nonchalantly.

“Habitually when one is first introduced to a member of aristocracy it is customary to bow or curtsy.” The man spoke again in his British accent. “However, since it seems that you two have lost your reason at the sight of me, I shall extenuate you from your societal duties for the time being, and overlook your abhorrent manners.”

“Who are you?” I asked finally regaining my voice.

“You may refer to me as Sir Pierre de La Champagne."

"Gesundheit." Chris said chuckling to herself.

"And why exactly have you come?" I asked.

"To annihilate you naturally..." He said simply, pulling out a long silver dueling handgun from his suit coat pocket with a silk blue handkerchief. "I am what you would call, le chevalier parfait, qui est un tueur."

To Be Continued on Part 13...