Max ran his hand through his hair. “But it was a bargain. What could you give Richard?”
“Nothing good. It wasn’t happiness—that the Grimlorn can assure you. He asked for riches, material possessions. Meaningless and trivial things. The Grimlorn got the better part of the bargain.” She giggled. It sounded like water boiling in a cauldron.
“You were able to give him those things?” Max asked.
“He will come into them, yes.”
The old man was right. Richard would be fine. The schemer found a way to get his money.
“You have magical powers, but you can’t get yourself or me out of here?”
“There are rules. There are always rules, Max-well. Down here the Grimlorn can only give birth to pots and pans, occasionally food, trinkets. The Grimlorn gets only what she needs, nothing more, nothing less.
