The door flung open and three more gnomes rushed into the house. Tinker went to the table as James backed away to a corner. A flurry of activity upended the room.

“Tinker—the Olm is awake!” shouted a puffed up gnome with a very long beard.

“Blastering bork of a net,” grumbled another. He yanked on a tangled net that was stuck beneath the rug.

“Where’s all the lip-grippers and hook-sinkers?” said the smallest one as he rummaged through an endlessly full cabinet.

In the middle of all the chaos, the gnome with the very long beard unfolded a map on the table and said, “This is the real deal, Tinker. The ground system picked up a disturbance at shakers three, six, and eight.”

“Three-six-eight?” Tinker replied, now wearing his red goggles. “That’s unusual.”

The two focused on the map, pointing to symbols and lines and speaking to each other in grunts as their fingers worked the problem. James stood wide-eyed and listened.

“It’s here,” said Tinker. “Under the sunken bowl.”

”How far down?”

“Thirty links or so—not more than forty.”

“Then we’ll go down the crooked spine,” said the bearded gnome as he traced a line on the map. “We have to be quick, but there’s a chance we can lure it to the pools of the swirling cave.”

“Found them!” shouted the smallest gnome as he threw sharp and pointy tools into a pile. “They were hiding behind the skull-smashers.”

The gnome with the tangled net grunted and swore as he struggled to fit it inside a canvas bag. James was only a few feet away but the gnome didn’t seem to notice him. In fact, none of the gnomes seemed to notice. They were too focused on the task at hand, and whatever it was seemed very important.

“The Olm will be hungry,” said the bearded gnome. “We all go together, and no one goes in the water.”

Didn’t Tinker say the Olm eats people? Harley and Yoyo could be in trouble. This was James’ chance to be a hero. He went to his torn backpack and slung it over his right shoulder.

“I’m coming too!” James announced with excitement.

All the gnomes suddenly stopped. A silence hushed the room.

Tinker broke the silence with a gentle tone, “My brothers, we have a guest—James, that’s your name, yes? Introduce yourself then.”

James lifted both hands and sheepishly waved but his greeting was met with frowns and head-scratches.

“What can he do?” asked the smallest gnome with the pointy tools.

“Those hands have never known labor…” mumbled the gnome with the net.

Tinker spoke again, “Don’t hold that against him. Remember the battle of Jordic? We need all hands to take the Olm and young ones are the easiest to teach.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, then the bearded gnome nodded his head and said, “Pendar, let him carry the net.”

James beamed a smile—he was officially part of the team. Introductions went quickly, the gnomes declaring their names as the canvas bag with the net landed at James’ feet.

“Don’t lose it,” said Pendar the strongest, though to James he seemed like the angriest.

“I promise I won’t,” said James.

“Have you ever used one of these?” asked Pendle the smallest, holding out a pointy tool.

James nodded, though he certainly hadn’t.

“Quickly now, follow me!” said Yendar the eldest, his beard nearly dragging as he ran out the door.

The hunt had begun. The gnomes ran fast, James right behind them, and a sprinting Yendar led the way with a rod of light. The route was wet, winding, and narrow, and they darted past milky-white rocks that dripped from the ceiling like thawing icicles. Pendar, Pendle, and Tinker carried the lip-grippers and hook-sinkers, and James carried his backpack along with the canvas bagged net. They quickly descended down the Crooked Spine and wasted no step in their sprint.

With high hopes they arrived at an enormous cavern. Gray and white rock swirled on the massive arch ceiling and white pillars layered the floor like melted rock candles, long since forgotten. Shallow pools covered the lowest layers and James navigated between them as he followed the gnomes to a contraption marked with the number eighty-four.

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The contraption rested on solid rock, a hulking machine with a large rectangular plate for a base. A bewildering array of gauges, dials, and blinking lights made up some kind of control panel and at the heart of the contraption was a scorched metal cylinder marked ‘PULSATOR’. Tightly coiled filaments glowed red beside the cylinder, the heat distorting the air, and as Tinker turned a dial, the entire machine seemed to shudder and come alive, wires humming, gears whirring, and the large rectangular plate began to move up and down.

Tinker adjusted the largest dial on the contraption. "This’ll be loud for a moment…"

The coiled filaments flared dazzling white and the pulsator released a high-pitched noise that James could feel inside his head. Ripples spread out across the shallow pools nearby as the large rectangular plate clanked against the ground, the sound of the machine becoming as intense as a clanking train engine.

Tinker nodded as he watched the gauges on the control panel, the heavy metal plate vibrating rapidly, the ripples intensifying on the surface of the pools. Yendar stood beside him with his arms crossed.

“Set the pulsator to twenty thousand!” shouted Yendar, closely examining a brass-rimmed gauge.

“That’s too low!” shouted Tinker with his hand on the dial. A blinking red light on the contraption turned solid red. “Twenty-two thousand is better for this distance!”

“Fine!” shouted Yendar. He moved away from the contraption and surveyed the pools in the cavern.

When the sound of the clanking metal became too much for James to handle, he plugged his ears with his fingers and sat on the ground. His whole body shook, the vibrations relentless, the sensation unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. What must have been ten seconds felt like an hour, but finally Tinker turned the dial the other way and the contraption quieted down.

“That should do it,” said Tinker.

“Now we wait,” said Yendar, sweeping his light rod above a crystal clear pool. “This one connects into the deeper tunnels. Everyone watch for movement. It’ll come if it’s hungry.”

“And stay out of the water,” Pendle whispered to James.

The minutes passed without anyone speaking. James crouched beside the pool for a closer look, the air silent and the water still. Behind him, the splash of a giant wave broke the quiet. James nearly jumped out of his shoes. He looked around—the shallow pools were gently rippling.

“It’s on the other side of the flowstone!” yelled Yendar.

The gnomes ran to a pale sheet of rock and disappeared through a tiny crevice. James couldn’t fit with his backpack and canvas bag. He set them down and belly-crawled in, but the opening was too small for his chest. He exhaled a breath and squeezed into the gap. He was through.

Splash!

A spray of water collided against the rock. The gnomes grouped together on a narrow ledge, a deep pool underneath, the cavern wet and dripping. Yendar’s rod lit up the waves on the surface and a hazy light beamed from the water below. Tinker, Pendar, and Pendle held their hook-sinkers, the other tools ready at their feet, as James reached in vain for the bags. It was too late.

“The Olm!” shouted Yendar.

Yendar pointed in the water and James gasped when he saw it—fleshy pink, its body long and scarred, a pear shaped head. The Olm grew to gargantuan size as it swam to the surface. Its snout breached the water before disappearing under the shelf of rock.

“Climb James!” shouted Tinker. “Climb higher!”

James gripped the skinny rocks that jutted out from the wall like iron rods, but fear had frozen his legs. He looked back. The massive head of the Olm emerged from the water.

Climb! Run! Hide!

But he couldn’t. The Olm moved closer, its breath a warm mist, its mouth opened wide.

Thwack! The sharp tip of a hook-sinker pierced the body of the Olm. Thwack! Thwack! Two more hook-sinkers went into its side. The Olm thrashed violently.

“Throw the net and ready the lip-grippers!” shouted Yendar.

But there was no net to throw. It was in the canvas bag on the other side of the rock wall. The gnomes scattered as the Olm slammed into the ledge. Flowstone icicles dislodged from the ceiling and fragments rained down from above. James held on tightly to the rocks, shrieking and shaking and trying his best not to fall, and the Olm disappeared into the water.

The monster’s blood drained off the ledge and dripped into the pool. James waited for the Olm to return. The terror was too much to bear—he covered his eyes. The Olm appeared in his mind. He saw the open mouth and the ridged flesh that formed its throat. He imagined what came next. It wasn’t a pleasant thought.

No. Not today. Not ever. James opened his eyes and looked around the dimly-lit cavern, hoping that the worst was behind him. Yendar’s light rod lay on the rock ledge but he wasn’t in sight and there wasn’t any sign that the other gnomes were still near. He decided to wait and listened for the all clear, or until he saw a gnome, anything to signal the end of the battle.

One by one the gnomes peeked out their heads and stopped hiding. They gathered along the ledge in a line near the light rod. James ran to join them.

“We defeated the Olm—we’re heroes!” said James.

But there were no cheers of victory. Even Tinker remained silent as the gnomes watched the water with frowns on their faces. James hid his smile. He had a lot to say but he didn’t dare speak, for the frowns told him to keep quiet.

Yendar hovered his light rod above the deep water. All the ripples had faded away, and there was no motion beneath the surface.

“Blasterbork,” said Yendar, looking away.

Maybe we didn’t kill the Olm, but it still went away, and wasn’t that the point of fighting it? Maybe they’re worried it’ll come back. James put his hands in his pockets and wondered if the gloomy mood would last forever.

“What’s that?” asked Pendle. He pointed toward a white glow in the water.

“Probably just an old light rod,” said Tinker.

“But the color isn’t the same,” noted Pendle.

Tinker took off his goggles and stuffed them back into his apron. “You’re right. That’s because the early prototypes had different bulbs. I don’t see what else it would be.”

“In any case, we should go have a look,” said Yendar, leading the way. He went first along the ledge and everyone else followed. They circled the cavernous room, chattering curiously about what it could be, and all stopped where the white glow was brightest. The source of the glow was a small hand-sized object laying at the bottom of the pool.

“That’s not a light rod,” said Tinker. “At least not one that we’ve ever made.”

“Then what could it be?” asked Pendle.

Nausea formed in James’ stomach. The object was familiar—maybe not to a gnome, but he knew what it was. He identified it to the others.

“That’s Harley’s phone.”