The Dark Lord Bert 2 by Chris Fox (bookstand for reading .TXT) 📕

Bert free to consider the problem. The rock made people greedy. They had to be kept away from the rock. He couldn’t ask the elves to just move away from such a nice lake, so what should he do? He needed to move the rock. How could he do that?

Bert picked up a rake with a fat handle that one elf had been using to scratch at another’s face. He used the handle side to poke the rock, but the bit of wood that touched the stone burst into flame. He’d effectively created a torch. A torch rake. Hmm. Could be handy in caves.

Bert dropped the torch-rake and fished out his journal, then drew a picture of the rake with one end burning, with a plus sign, and then a cave and then an equal sign pointing at a pile of gold. His kingdom always needed more money, and perhaps inventions were a way to get some.

He turned back to the rock, and thought about the problem. The best way to solve hard problems was to break them down into easier problems, and then solve those until all you had left were the hard bits.

Bert needed to get the rock away from there so he could hide it. Okay, where could he take it? “Bert fly!”

He drifted up into the air, and soared up above the trees. In the distance, deeper in the forest, he spotted a tall ominous mountain with jagged slopes, and lava running down one side. There was a convenient cave, too, right in the base! In fact there were several caves. They sort of made the mountain look like a skull.

Bert could take the rock there, and put it in one of the caves. No one would ever find it there. Or at least…no one in his kingdom. Hmm. He’d need to protect the rock once he hid it. He couldn’t count on no one finding it.

That was another problem though.

Now that Bert knew where he was taking the rock he drifted down to the ground and focused on the next problem. How could he move the rock? Poking it with things probably wouldn’t work, as it burned them. Touching it directly caused people to disappear inside, and Bert didn’t even want to think about what happened to them. It must be terribly cramped in such a small rock, for that many people.

So Bert floated down to the ground, and circled the area directly around the rock. The heat was rather pleasant, and warmed Bert’s toes quite nicely, but the ground itself hadn’t blackened or burned much. It seemed that dirt and rocks could survive contact, or the magic rock would eat through the ground and fall into the world.

How could he use that?

Bert stuck his tongue out as everybody knew that helped with thinking. It might help as much as his dark lord trope, for all he knew.

What did not help was all the barking and yelling, but that had mostly died down and Bert covered his ears with his hands so he could focus on the rock.

How could he move it?

Could he make…a rock sled? Maybe Boberton could pull it? Bert glanced at the forest. That wouldn’t work. A sled would get stuck long before they reached the mountain.

Hmm.

Perhaps he could make the rock fly with magic? Maybe he didn’t need to carry it at all. Bert wiggled his fingers, fixed the rock with a stern stare, and commanded it to fly. “Rock float up in air!”

The rock remained stubbornly inert, and Bert realized somehow that it was immune to magic. He’d have to find another way.

Bert walked directly up to the rock, but didn’t touch it. It was little larger than he was, but only a little. Was he strong enough to move it? How heavy was it? He’d have to touch it to find out, and that had proven a very bad idea to everyone who’d done it thus far.

“Hmm.” Bert removed his hands from his ears and looked at them. Could he wear gloves? Would that count as touching the rock? “Bert have idea!”

Bert knelt and splayed the fingers of both hands wide as he buried his hands in the dirt. He couldn’t touch the rock, and the elves who had touched the rock had been wearing clothing when they’d disappeared. The rock could eat clothes, too.

But not all clothes had to be made from cloth. Bert had been forced to improvise many times, and today was no exception. The difference, he realized to his delight, was that this time Bert possessed magic.

“Dirt mittens!” Bert yelled at the top of his lungs. Pebbles and rocks and bits of dirt flowed up around his hands, and formed into a pair of quite comfortable dirt mittens. He flexed his hands and while movement was a little stiff they would absolutely get the job done. Bert turned to Boberton, as he didn’t want to experience his moment of triumph alone. “Here, boy!”

The dog came running over, tail wagging as both Lefty and Righty panted. There was no longer any sign of elves around the stone.

“Okay, Bert try to move rock.” Bert cautiously approached the stone, closed his eyes, and rested his hands against it. When nothing happened he cautiously opened one eye. His mittens were working! He was touching the stone without getting hurt. “Come on, boy. Boberton and Bert go to mountain in forest. Have to hide rock.”

Then Bert froze. He’d left his wagon parked on the edge of town. If he left it here, and if the elves found it, they’d probably keep it for themselves. It contained all sorts of wonderful gadgets and inventions, and would also be quite handy for carrying loads of cookies.

Bert sighed. He simply couldn’t bring the wagon with him, not if he expected to reach the caves and hide the rock. He’d have to leave it behind.

Bert squared his shoulders, and began pushing the glowing rock toward the tree line.

14

An Adventurer's Tale

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