The Truth

more than a couple of hours. The dwarfs designed as they went along.
    It looked to Sacharissa that the only tools a dwarf needed were his ax and some means of making fire. That’d eventually get him a forge, and with that he could make simple tools, and with those he could make complex tools, and with complex tools a dwarf could more or less make anything.
    A couple of them were rummaging around in the industrial junk that was piled against the walls. A couple of metal mangles had been melted down for their iron already, and the rocking horses were being used to melt lead. One or two of the dwarfs had left the shed on mysterious errands, too, and returned carrying small sacks and furtive expressions. A dwarf is also very good at making use of things other people have thrown away, even if they haven’t actually thrown them away yet.
    She was turning her attention to a report of the Nap Hill Jolly Pals annual meeting when a crash and some cursing in Uberwaldean, a good cursing language, made her run over to the cellar entrance.
    “Are you all right, Mr. Chriek? Do you want me to get the dustpan and brush?”
    “ Bodrozvachski zhaltziet! …oh, sorry, Miss Sacharissa! Zere has been a minor pothole on zer road to progress…”
    Sacharissa made her way down the ladder.
    Otto was at his makeshift bench. Boxes of demons hung on the wall. Some salamanders dozed in their cages. In a big dark jar, land eels slithered. But a jar next to it was broken.
    “I vas clumsy and knocked it over,” said Otto, looking embarrassed. “And now zer stupid eel as gone behind the bench.”
    “Does it bite?”
    “Oh no, zey are very lazy wretches—”
    “What is this you’ve been working on, Otto?” Sacharissa said, turning to look closer at something big on the bench. He tried to dart in front of her.

“Oh, it is all very experimental—”
    “The way of making colored plates?”
    “Yes, but it is just a crude lash-up—”
    Sacharissa caught sight of a movement out of the corner of her eye. The escaped land eel, having got bored behind the bench, was making a very sluggish bid for new horizons where an eel could wriggle proud and horizontal.
    “Please don’t—” Otto began.
    “Oh, it’s all right, I’m not at all squeamish—”
    Sacharissa’s hand closed on the eel.
    She came around with Otto’s black handkerchief being flapped desperately in her face.
    “Oh, my goodness…” she said, trying to sit up.
    Otto’s face was a picture of such terror that Sacharissa forgot her own splitting headache for a moment.
    “What’s happened to you? ” she said. “You look terrible. ”
    Otto jerked back, tried to stand up, and half-collapsed against the bench, clutching at his chest.
    “Cheese!” he moaned. “Please get me some cheese! Or a big apple! Something to bite! Pleeease! ”
    “There’s nothing like that down here—”
    “Keep avay from me! And do not breathe like zat!” Otto wailed.
    “Like what?”
    “Zer bosoms going in and out and up and down like zat! I am a vampire! A fainting young lady, please understand, zer panting, zer heaving of zer bosoms…it calls somezing terrible from within…” With a lurch he pushed himself upright and gripped the black twist of ribbon from his lapel. “But I vill be stronk!” he screamed. “I vill not let everyvun down!”
    He stood stiffly to attention, although slightly blurred because the vibration shaking him from head to foot, and in a trembling voice sang: “Oh vill you come to zer mission, vill you come, come, come, Zere’s a nice cup of tea and a bun, and a bun—”
    The ladder was suddenly alive with tumbling dwarfs.
    “Are you all right, miss?” said Boddony, running forward with his ax. “Has he tried anything?”
    “No, no! He’s—”
    “—zer drink zat’s in zer livink vein, Is not zer drink for me—” Sweat was running down Otto’s face. He stood with one hand pressed over his heart.
    “That’s right, Otto!” shouted Sacharissa. “Fight it! Fight it!” She turned to the dwarfs. “Have any of you got any raw meat?”
    “…to life anew and temperance too, And to pure cold vater ve’ll come…” Veins were throbbing on Otto’s pale head.
    “Got some fresh rat fillets upstairs,” muttered one of the dwarfs. “Cost me tuppence…”
    “You get them right now, Gowdie,” snapped Boddony. “This looks bad!”
    “—oh ve can drink brandy and gin if it’s handy, and ve can sup vhiskey and rum, but zer drink ve abhor and ve