Open Sesame by Tom Holt Read Free Book Online Page A

soft fruit. The fairy godfathers, however, are a different matter entirely. With them, you have to watch your step.
    They offer you three wishes you can’t refuse.
    ‘Next.’
    It was dark in the Man’s study; the blinds were drawn, and the only light came from a standard lamp directly behind his head. This made for a very dramatic ambience but didn’t help you very much with negotiating the furniture-strewn journey from the door to the desk.
    ‘Who’s this?’
    The lean, grey man who stood two respectful paces back from the desk glanced down at a notebook. ‘Grumpy, padrone. He’s a dwarf from the Big Forest. Sometimes we buy toys from his people.’
    The man behind the desk nodded. ‘So,’ he said. ‘What you want?’
    There was a flurry of low-level activity and a brightly coloured little man with a fluffy white beard bounded forward and fell on his knees in front of the desk. The man gestured for him to stand up.
    ‘Justice, padrone,’ said the dwarf. The man laughed. ‘Another one,’ he sneered. ‘Tell me about it.’
    ‘Padrone,’ the little man sobbed, ‘we’re toymakers, me and my six brothers, we live in the Big Forest. We’re poor people, padrone, we try to make a living, we don’t bother nobody. Then one day this girl comes busting into our house. She steals our bread and milk. She sits on the chair and breaks it, ‘cos she’s so goddamn big. We try and make her welcome, you know, the way you do. She eats all the food. She drinks all the milk. She decides she likes it here, says she’s gonna stay. Next thing she’s ordering curtain material, loose covers, carpets, wall lights, fitted kitchens. We can’t afford stuff like that, padrone, not on what we make. Then it’s You lousy dwarves, you take off your goddamn boots when you walk on my kitchen floor and Look at the dirty marks you leave on my towels and If I’ve asked you once to put up those shelves in the lounge I’ve asked you a hundred times. You see how it is, padrone. We ain’t welcome in our own home, she’s taken it over. We been to the police, we been to the Gebruder Grimm, they say there’s nothing they can do. Then Dopey, he says, Go to the Padrone, he will give us justice. So here I am,’ the little man concluded. ‘You gotta help us, or we go out of our minds. You find her some handsome prince somewhere, make her go away.’
    The man behind the desk was silent for a long time, and the dwarf began to sweat. Then the man spoke.
    ‘Grumpy,’ he said, in a hurt voice, ‘what’s this you telling me? You come to me on my daughter’s wedding day, you say, “Give us justice, padrone. Marry her off to some handsome prince and everything gonna be just fine.’” The man drew breath, and sneered. ‘You think I got nothing better to do? You think every little problem you got, you come to me and now it’s my problem? You think that’s the way to show respect to your padrone, who loves you and cares for you? I don’t think so.’ He scowled, and drew hard on his cigar. ‘But,’ he went on, ‘since it’s my daughter’s wedding day, I can refuse you nothing. Carlo and Giuseppe will see to it. Now get out of my sight.’ He made a tiny, contemptuous gesture with his left hand, and the dwarf was bundled away. Then two large, chunky men stepped forward from the shadows, conferred with the man briefly in whispers, and left the room. ‘Next,’ the man said.
    ‘Go on.’ The bear nudged Akram in the ribs. “It’s your turn.’
    Akram hesitated. Not for nothing was he called The Terrible from Trebizond to Samarkand, but he could recognise bad vibes when he felt them. In comparison, five litres of boiling water down the back of his neck seemed positively wholesome.
    ‘Akram the Terrible,’ read out the grey man. ‘He’s some kinda thief.’
    Akram took a deep breath and stepped forward. Fortunately, he had at least a vague idea of the form. He bowed politely, smiled, and said, ‘Congratulations on your happy day.’