I traced my fingertips over a beautiful statue of an eagle with its wings spread wide, as if it was getting ready to fly away. Despite the fact they were made of silverstone, the wings bore such intricate detail that I almost imagined they were ruffling as the spring breeze danced through the air.
I wandered farther out into the garden, following the path of flagstones wending through the woods, amazed by all the pieces hidden among the dappled shadows. I could see why Owen continued to craft sculptures and weapons in his own forge. He'd been given the skills to do so by Cooper, just like Fletcher had instilled his love of cooking and the Pork Pit in me. More important, Owen shared the dwarf's obvious love for working with raw ore and shaping it into something smooth, supple, and wondrous.
Footsteps slapped on the flagstones behind me. I put a welcoming smile on my face, but then I realized the footsteps were approaching far too quickly for this to be a friendly encounter. Instinct took over, and I ducked to the right.
Good thing, since a red-hot poker hit the sculpture of a bear I'd been admiring just a second before.
Sparks hissed through the air, a few landing on my T-shirt and jeans and creating smoking holes in the fabric. I ignored the sparks, whipped out a knife, and turned to meet the danger.
A dwarf stood behind me. He was tall for his kind, topping out at just over five feet, and incredibly muscled. His chest, biceps, and forearms looked as hard and unyielding as the sculptures, as though he'd been made from the same metal he could shape so well. His hair was a soft silver, with a few black patches sprinkled here and there, and was spiked to a high, wavy point above his forehead, like he'd run his fingers through the thick locks more than once today. A pair of goggles covered his face, making his rust-colored eyes seem that much bigger and brighter in his tan, speckled face. He wore a blue work shirt and a pair of matching pants, along with brown boots.
Instead of being concerned about the knife in my hand, the dwarf immediately drew back his poker for another swing at my head.
"So you're the one who's been sneaking around stealing my fountains. I'll teach you a lesson you won't soon forget! That knife won't save you, missy - nothing will!"
He swung the poker again. I ducked behind the statue, and the clang of metal on metal made my ears ring.
"Cooper!" I said, yelling louder than I should have, since I couldn't quite hear myself think at that moment. "Put down the weapon! I'm not here to hurt you!"
The dwarf snorted. "Right. And pretty girls carrying knives just show up on my doorstep and creep around my woods every day of the week, and twice on Sunday."
He stepped around the statue and took another swing at me, forcing me to back up. Normally I would have rushed forward, knocked his weapon away, and put my blade up against his throat. But Owen wouldn't have liked me attacking his mentor, even if Cooper had started things. So I slid my knife back up my sleeve and held my hands out to the side, showing him I was unarmed.
"See there? No more knife," I said in a soft, easy voice, trying to calm him. "Now why don't you put that down so we can talk like reasonable people?"
The dwarf studied me through his thick goggles. "We can talk, all right," he muttered. "After I've bashed your head in."
Despite the situation, I couldn't help but grin. I was starting to like the dwarf. Maybe because he seemed to have the same violent streak Finn always claimed I did.
Cooper came at me with the poker again, but once more, I ducked out of the way. This time, he slammed the rod into the sculpture of another eagle, this one perched on a tree stump. Unfortunately, the sculpture didn't hold up against the dwarf's assault and he knocked the beak right off the bird.
"Damn," he said. "That was one of my favorite pieces. You'll pay for that, missy!"
I sighed and kept up my dance with the dwarf. Around and around the sculpture garden we went, with Cooper trying to split my skull open and me sidestepping out of the way time and time again. Despite the fact that Cooper was nearly three hundred, the dwarf moved with the ease of a much younger man, and all the long hours and years working at his forge had given him incredible strength and stamina. I was already sweating from all the bobbing and weaving, but Cooper looked like he could swing that heavy poker at me all day. He probably could, and sooner or later odds said he was sure to connect.
Still, I held back. We'd already gotten off on the wrong foot. I didn't want to add insult to injury by hurting the dwarf.
Finally, just when I was getting good and tired of playing pin-the-poker-on-Gin's-head, Owen and Kincaid came running into the sculpture garden. Cooper whirled at the sound of their footsteps and raised the rod over his shoulder, ready to take on these new intruders, whoever they might be. The two men skidded to a stop, and Owen held his hands out, just like I had a few minutes before.
"Cooper," he said. "It's me, Owen. Put down the poker, okay?"
Cooper blinked and slowly lowered his weapon. "Owen?"
He nodded and smiled at his mentor.
The dwarf frowned, then looked over his shoulder at me. "Then who is that?"
I just wheezed and leaned against the broken sculpture.
Chapter 21
Owen introduced me to Cooper. It took some convincing, but eventually the dwarf put his poker on the ground and clapped me on the back, almost knocking me over with his great strength.
"Sorry about the confusion, missy," Cooper said in his loud, rumbling voice. "But you can't be too careful these days, even up here in the mountains. These are troubled times, you know. Troubled times."
I thought about all the hoodlums who'd tried to kill me in the last few months and all the others who would keep coming after me. I grimaced. I could tell Cooper a thing or two about troubled times.
"Especially since someone keeps stealing my fountains!"
"Fountains?" I asked. "You make fountains?"
The dwarf nodded. "Not as often as I do sculptures, but I got a commission a few months ago for them. Some guy named Henley wanted seven of them for his gardens, but the guy never showed up with the money."
I frowned. Something about the name Henley seemed familiar to me, like I'd seen or heard it somewhere recently. I concentrated, but the memory just wouldn't come to me.
"So I just planted them out in the woods, figuring I'd get rid of them sooner or later," Cooper said. "But one by one, someone's been stealing them. There's only one left now, which was why I was out hiding in the trees, trying to catch the thief. I saw you come out here and thought you might be the person whose backside I need to kick."