He shrugged and opened his fist, dropping the gremlin to the cot again. Razor hit the mattress and instantly froze; not even his ears vibrated as he gazed up at me with expectant green eyes.
I blinked. “Uh, at ease,” I muttered, and the gremlin plopped into a sit, still watching me intently. “Look, Razor, I think it’s best if you leave. The camp is being evacuated right now. You can’t stay here by yourself, and I don’t think you’ll be welcome where we’re going.”
“No leave!” Razor leaped up, his face eager. “Stay with Master. Go where Master goes. Razor can help!”
“You can’t,” I said, hating the way his ears drooped like a scolded puppy. “We’re marching to war, and it’ll be dangerous. You can’t help us against the false king’s army.” He buzzed sadly, but I kept my voice firm. “Go home, Razor. Go back to Mag Tuiredh. Isn’t that where you really want to be? With all the other gremlins?”
Grimalkin sighed loudly, causing me to look back and Razor to hiss at him. “Am I the only one here who has any insight at all?” he said, looking to each of our faces. We stared at him, and he shook his head. “Drawing a blank, are you? Think about what you just said, human. Repeat that last phrase, if you would.”
I frowned. “Isn’t that where you want to be?”
He closed his eyes. “The next phrase, human.”
“With all the other gremlins.” He stared at me expectantly, and I raised my hands. “What? What are you getting at, Grim?”
Grimalkin thumped his tail. “It is times like these I am ever more grateful that I am a cat,” he sighed. “Why do you think I brought you that creature, human? To keep up my stalking skills? I assure you, they are quite adequate already. Please attempt to use the brain I know is hidden somewhere in that head. There are thousands of gremlins in Mag Tuiredh, perhaps hundreds of thousands. And who is the only person in the entire realm who can communicate with them?”
“Me.” Suddenly what he was implying hit me full force. “The gremlins. There are thousands of them out there. And…and they listen to me.”
“Bravo,” Grimalkin deadpanned, rolling his eyes. “The lightbulb finally comes on.”
“I can ask the gremlins to help us,” I said, ignoring Grimalkin, who lay down and curled his tail around himself, his work apparently done. “I can go to Mag Tuiredh and…” I stopped, shaking my head. “No. No, I can’t. I have to be there when we reach the Nevernever, or Oberon and Mab will try to kill Glitch and his army. They would think it’s just another attack by the false king.”
“You’re probably right about that,” Puck mused, crossing his arms. “Mab wouldn’t hesitate, and even Oberon would chop first and ask questions later when it comes to the Iron fey.” He glanced down at Razor, who was still watching me intently and cocking his head like a dog trying to understand. “What about Buzzsaw there? Could you send it back with a message to its friends, telling them what you want?”
“I guess I could try. What do we have to lose?” I turned to the gremlin, who sat up and flared his ears, ready and eager. “Razor, if I asked the other gremlins to help me, do you think they would come?”
“We help!” Razor bounced in place, grinning. “Razor help! Help Master, yes!”
I didn’t know if that meant all the gremlins would help or just him, but I went on anyway. “I want you to take a message back to Mag Tuiredh. This is for all gremlins. Gather everyone who is willing to fight and meet us at the edge of the Iron Realm, where it meets the wyldwood. We have to stop the false king’s moving tower before it hits the battlefront. Can you do that, Razor? Do you understand what I’m asking?”
“Razor understands!” the gremlin crowed, and leaped to the wall, flashing his neon grin. “I help! Meet Master in funny elf lands! I go!” And before I could call him back, he scurried up the corner, slid through the slats in the vent, and disappeared.
Puck raised an eyebrow and glanced at me. “Do you think he really understood what you wanted?”
Grimalkin raised his head and gave me an annoyed look, as if I had just blown something he’d spent hours setting up. “I don’t know,” I murmured, watching the vent. “I guess we can only hope.”