“We have conferred,” said the leader of the little men. “I can get you to the top of the mountain. But it will be frightening.”
The lad swallowed, his throat dry. “Tell me,” he said.
“You’ve seen our dart blowers,” the leader went on, gesturing at his weapon, “but you’ve not seen us use them. They have a strong magic.”
He pulled a small bag from his tunic and hefted it in one hand. “We have a dust that can shrink you small enough to fit into my blower. And I can blow you on a breath of magic to the top of the mountain, where you will land softly and regain your normal size.”
The boy sat silently thinking. He had always been smaller than his brothers, smaller than the other boys in the village. And the idea of being even ...