No Country for Old Gnomes (The Tales of Pell, #2)

by Delilah S. Dawson

They are always…trying to steal…my lucky charms…”

Now he wanted to hug these thieves in the teeth with his knuckles. But he couldn’t.

would’ve bet good money that the gryphon was going to eat those gnomes, who looked a little like cupcakes brought to life and plunked into cardigans.

emptied into the Dämköld Sea

thrown out the gryphone door!—for

the machines do rise, she said, more to herself than to him, I’ll be back.

He heckin’ hated moos, boy howdy. Couldn’t hear me hollerin’ in the cellar, but if them cows started talkin’ he’d shoot green lightnin’ outta the window ’n’ some kinda sorta-bread would always fall outta the sky, ’n’ I got wise after a while ’n’ kept some butter handy for them times because summa that sorta-bread tasted kinda good—”

It’s the POPO that’s the problem.” “The Pellican Ocean Patrol Office,”

“You’re Independent AF,” Onni mused, and Agape laughed. “Confused AF, more like.”

Handily trouncing trolls was one thing, but government was rather bigger and harder to bash in the knee.

For his arm was long and strong and about to get some leverage on,

would rather die than be a Dique.