Deelind and The Icefire

by Lance Dempster

  ‘I can self-sharpen,’ said Dreki as he took a tiny but sharp knife out of a hidden pocket, and in a blink of an eye he had sharpened the lead point which stuck out of the top of his head.

  ‘I wish I could make this invisible.’ She did not want anyone else seeing this until she had time to investigate it.

  ‘I can write in a way that only you can see?’ suggested Dreki.

  ‘Thank you, that would be ideal. You’re full of surprises! What else can you do?’

  ‘Well, only you can write with me. Each Elp has a unique lead which helps stop children cheating at their exams. I regrow my lead each time I sleep and grow about 1cm every year,’ he declared proudly.

  The sun was now high in the sky and she still needed to find a way back to the village and, if possible, salvage some of the afternoon with Mug. She quickly wrote down the names in her book and sketched the layout of the graveyard.

  ‘Branch Leader Elp Leo,’ called Deelind.

  ‘Yes, my lady?’

  ‘I wish you would just call me Deelind.’ She put her notebook back in her bag and let Dreki jump onto her shoulder.

  ‘They will never call you that as you are a featherlite and they like the formality and respect,’ whispered Dreki as he sat down.

  ‘Show me a way back to the village so that I can find my way back here again.’

  ‘Yes, my lady. The village is just east of here with the forest path running from the village all the way to the Money Tree. There is the old cottage path you could use which starts a half a mile past the small wooden foot bridge on the way to the Money Tree. The path is hidden by a large mossy rock. Come, I will show you.’ Elp Leo walked quickly.

  Shaking her head, she whispered to Dreki, ‘This ordering about is going to take some getting used to. I’m so grateful you offered to assist this poor featherlite and don’t need all this nonsense. You really are a unique little Elp and now you have a unique name, too!’ She was close enough to see a hint of pink on Dreki’s green cheeks and she felt her own face stretch into a warm smile.

  They headed out the back of the graveyard and Deelind could see an old rabbit path which wound around trees, under bushes and over roots. They climbed up a small, heavily overgrown hill and there on the top was the mossy rock.

  ‘We have worked hard to hide the path. Please be careful when stepping onto it that no one sees you and you do not leave any marks on or around the rock. Good day, my lady.’ With that, he disappeared back into the bush.

  * * *

  Deelind had managed to push the run-in with the Prophets of Doom to the back of her mind until she stepped onto the path and saw Mug running towards her.

  ‘Deelind? Deelind! Are you okay?’ Grabbing her arm, he turned her around as if looking for signs of injury. ‘I was so worried. I searched for you everywhere. You can get into so much trouble flying in this valley, yet I couldn’t see you in the sky. You scared years off my life taking off like that…’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Mug. I got such a fright and couldn’t help—’

  ‘Never mind that. You were magnificent,’ he said excitedly. ‘I’ve never seen you go dragon before. That was so cool. So beautiful. You are snow white. Do you know how rare that is?’

  ‘You are blushing,’ teased Zara. ‘He’s got good taste. We might keep him, too. Add him to my collection.’ The sun came out and snow sparkled everywhere like tiny jewels.

  ‘Said like a true dragon, Zara!’ Deelind teased in return.

  Mug, who was still talking, stopped. ‘You’ve got that look on your face that means you’re talking with Zara.’

  ‘Sorry, Mug. Zara was just appreciating your compliment of our dragon form. She says you have good taste.’

  Mug opened his mouth as if about to say something and suddenly stopped and pointed to Deelind’s shoulder. ‘Huh. Never seen that before. Your Elp is wearing a party hat.’

  Deelind turned to her Elp on her shoulder and so he was. A bright pink, sparkly one with metallic streamers springing out the top. Where on earth had he got that from?

  ‘He has a hoard,’ said Zara as if that explained everything.

  ‘What are you celebrating?’ Mug asked the Elp.

  ‘I just received my new name from Deelind and Zara. I am no longer just Elp, or Elpling. I am Dreki. It means ‘little dragon’ in Dragon,’ he declared, standing tall, his voice filled with pride. ‘Wow, that’s fantastic news! Congratulations, Dreki,’ said Mug using his little finger to give Dreki a high-five. ‘It’s a strong, bold name, it suits you. My Elp will be so pleased for you. He’s seen how hard you work with Deelind and he’s a big fan of yours. I’ll be sure to tell him when he gets back from holiday, although he’ll probably have heard via the Elp grapevine by then.’

  Turning to Deelind, he said, ‘What did the Prophets of Doom say? I couldn’t hear them. There was a magical barrier sealing you in.’

  Chills spread through her body as she recalled the prediction. She walked quickly towards the village, telling Mug about the heads.

  ‘I wouldn’t worry about the heads. They are mad. I haven’t heard of anyone in recent times who has encountered them. It’s unclear whether their predictions are true or whether they’re just making stuff up to alarm a person so that they accidentally fall into the pond to be eaten.’

  ‘I hope you’re right because I don’t fancy being Blackthorn’s servant!’ She blew out a breath. ‘It sure has been a full day and it’s only the start of the afternoon. I desperately need some more clothes, but first I need some food. Look,’ she said, pointing, ‘there’s Cracker Jack Pub and just in time, too. I’m ravenous.’

  CHAPTER 14

  BRAKENHILL ADVENTURES

  On entering the pub, it was clear it was Saturday afternoon and busy but Deelind and Mug were lucky enough to find a table by a window just as someone was vacating it.

  ‘Here. Please get us some food,’ she said, giving Mug some money.

  ‘Looking at those queues, it might take a while,’ said Mug nervously on hearing her stomach rumble. ‘It never pays to let a featherlite get hungry, you know.’

  She laughed. ‘It’s okay, Mug, I’m not so hungry that I’m ready to eat anyone yet, but that might change if you dither any longer.’

  Watching Mug hightail it to the pub counter, she sat back in the chair and looked around the pub listening to the general buzz of people talking. There was a different crowd today. There were the mole families of course, some witches sitting around one table, and elves dotted here and there. Most of the patrons were talking about their homes or work. Some were worried about Blackthorn and the ever-expanding hedge.

  ‘Somehow, we need to get through the hedge and hit Blackthorn hard,’ said someone at the witches’ table.

  ‘Impossible. Not even the Dragonknights can get through,’ said another.

  ‘Pah, the Dragonknights are no match for Blackthorn, they can’t even burn a hole through the hedge. I have heard they have a traitor amongst them.’

  ‘Chances are it’s that new featherlite, Deelind. Ever since she arrived things have been happening. Oakman was injured and is now dying, the rotviper’s body goes missing and now there is a traitor.’

  Feeling indignant, she wanted to jump up and say something, but Zara’s focus had turned to the speakers and Deelind could feel the ratcheting tension bubbling inside her.

  Mug returned to the table with the plates of food. ‘Tense crowd today,’ he said, sounding worried. ‘Not a lot of happy people here.’

  ‘What have you heard?’ She saw him hesitate. ‘Spill it.’

  ‘People seem to be blaming you for Blackthorn’s recent successes,’ he said hurriedly.

  ‘That’s what I have been hearing, too.’ Catching Mug’s eye, she confided, ‘Zara’s not happy.’

  Mug’s eyes widened in understanding. ‘Let’s eat up and get out of here before anyone sees us.’

  Deelind nodded and slid down in her chair. They ate in silence and then tried to slip out of the back door
as quietly as possible.

  ‘It’s her!’ shouted an accusing voice from within the pub. The pub went quiet and everyone turned and looked at her and Mug.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ a witch with a white streak running through her long, black hair snarled, advancing towards her. ‘Spying on us? Listening to us?’ Other voices joined in, shouting, ‘Traitor!’ and ‘You’re not welcome here!’ The witch stepped between her and the back door. She was sure that Mug’s worried face mirrored her own. What was it with her and witches? Regardless, this was getting nasty fast. Her only option would be to go dragon, but a dragon in this busy space would mean people getting hurt.

  ‘They dare challenge us!’ Zara roared in Deelind’s mind. Ice spears whistled past her and slammed into houses and thick, treacherous frost lined the streets. Deelind winced and struggled against Zara’s strong pull to transform.

  ‘Silence!’ boomed a voice as a short, round elf swung down from the loft. He had long, blond hair, pointy ears, a short-sleeved shirt that hung down to his knees, a green, hooded cloak, also hanging down past his knees, and well-worn, brown leather-looking trousers. ‘Everyone is welcome here unless I say so. Anyone who causes further trouble will be barred from this pub for a year. Never fear,’ he said cheerfully, ‘I have noticed all the troublemakers here today.’

  He landed between Deelind and the woman blocking her way. Power crackled around him. He glared at the woman and said in a low, menacing voice, ‘Move aside or I will move you.’ There was no mistaking the sudden hush and respect he commanded in the pub. He placed a comforting hand on Deelind’s shoulder. The elf had magic of some sort because calming energy poured through her as he helped her to soothe Zara. He turned to the rest of the pub. The patrons shrank back against the force of his displeasure.

  ‘Have you all taken leave of your senses?’ he said, his voice dripping in disgust. ‘You see a slip of a girl, but she is a featherlite. Inside her is a dragon who has been challenged! Those of you who are sensitive to such things can feel her angry dragon roaring.

  ‘Let that sink in a bit. Make no mistake, that dragon has seen every single one of you, and they have long memories. Are you all up to a battle with a dragon? Deelind is showing immense strength and foresight by not going dragon right here in the middle of this pub!’

  From the expressions on the faces of several of the patrons, it was clear that some of them did get the severity of the situation. Some were nodding in agreement while others looked a little green, perhaps at the thought of facing an angry dragon. Looking at Deelind with sincerity in his eyes, he said, ‘I am sorry you have had a difficult meal and encountered trouble in my pub. Feel free to come back. You are welcome to use my personal loft area to dine here in peace.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  The man dipped his head in a slight bow and his energy smoothed out. A sigh of relief rippled through the pub and the tension eased. ‘In case you hadn’t worked it out,’ he said, giving her a quick smile, ‘I’m Cracker Jack, the landlord of this pub.’

  ‘Mug, please make sure your dad knows I do not allow any trouble in my pub!’ he added as he opened the door for them. The customers returned to their conversations as Deelind slipped out with Mug. When they got outside, they found that Zak, who had been leaning through one of the windows sipping a drink, had backed his shell up against the back door, effectively blocking it.

  ‘My shell will keep anyone from coming out this way for a while,’ he said, beaming. ‘Haven’t had this much fun in ages!’ Muttering thanks to Zak, they slipped away.

  ‘Whew, that was hectic! Life has sure got more interesting since you came along,’ said Mug.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said drily. ‘It’s imperative now that I get some more clothing. I’ve become too recognisable in my limited wardrobe.’

  ‘The school uniform shop is the only clothing shop in the village that I know of,’ said Mug doubtfully.

  ‘Let’s go and see anyway. Lead the way.’

  * * *

  On the way to the uniform shop they discussed the day’s events. Suddenly remembering the gargoyles in Captain Roeland’s office, she asked, ‘Why has Captain Roeland got so many photos of gargoyles?’

  The question made Mug stop and look at Deelind. ‘Of course, you wouldn’t know. Blackthorn’s earlier experiments, trying to force the melding, created grotesque creatures. Over the years each time he created a creature instead of a melding he sent it out into the world. The Dragonscouts and molers tracked them down and used a potion Princess Lee made, which was a mixture of rainbow water and the essence of the element of water, to turn them into stone. Once in stone, they look much like gargoyles and cannot be smashed or broken. It becomes indestructible. It was only recently that he gained some success in the creation of his rotvipers. The problem is that to keep the gargoyles from breaking free they need frequent contact with rainwater and so Princess Lee came up with the idea of sticking them on the roofs as waterspouts.

  ‘The world will be in trouble if Blackthorn finds a way to release them. They would rip people’s heads from their shoulders and spread plague across the world. Back in the seventeenth century, everyone blamed the rats for the great plague that killed millions of people throughout England. The gargoyles carry the plague in their mouth. If you get bitten or any of their saliva on broken skin, you will be infected. With the high human population, it will be devastating if the gargoyles break free. It’s hard enough catching them because they are so fast, and they can fly but even harder because they are contagious. With Blackthorn’s success with his rotvipers, there are less gargoyles being made. However, alongside his rotvipers, Blackthorn has modernised and he uses his new drug called IceFire.’

  ‘I’ve heard you and Princess Lee mentioned the IceFire drug before, but I don’t know much about it.’

  ‘IceFire is a highly addictive drug made from the elements fire and water. Blackthorn has found a way to combine these two elements which allows him to control anyone who is addicted to the drug. He is using it to build an army that is controlled completely by him. You are a goner if he hooks you on IceFire. They say it is impossible to break the addiction without killing yourself, and you probably won’t even have the will left to do that,’ he said with a shiver as they walked into the village.

  * * *

  The shop they were looking for was easily identified by clear bold, black letters on the fascia above the shop window which simply stated, ‘The Uniform Shop’. Stuck between two other shops, it had a coffee shop to the left of it. Delicious smells of coffee and pastries wafted out. Despite having just had a good meal, Deelind felt her stomach rumble. Maybe they could grab a pastry on the way back. To the right of the uniform shop was a witch’s shop. A sign hanging above the shop door proudly declared in swirling, metallic, purple script, ‘The Cat & Cauldron’. In its front window was a stunning white and gold witch’s outfit, a cauldron on the floor next to it and tiny bats flying about in the top section of the window.

  Stepping up to The Uniform Shop, Deelind and Mug pushed through the front door and a little bell, hanging over the door frame, rang out. No one came so after a few moments they wandered around the shop. The shop was deeper than it had first appeared. There were several rooms and each room contained a different uniform. The main area had school uniforms, all hanging on rails that disappeared into the wall.

  ‘All you do is pull out the rail for your size,’ said Mug.

  ‘I do not know my size.’

  ‘That’s okay, just stand in front of the mirror and it will tell you which rail to go to.’

  Deelind went up to the mirror at the front of the first rail. To her surprise a rail behind her opened and there in the front row was a full uniform with shoes, socks, dress and hat that she suspected would be a perfect fit.

  ‘But I am not looking for a school uniform.’

  Mug shrugged. ‘It is free and from experience, it doesn’t hurt to have a new one sitting in the wardrobe. You can always return it if
you never use it.’

  Taking the uniform from the rail, she tucked it into her bag. Mug instructed the rail to close and they continued walking around the shop. The shop had all sorts of uniforms, more than half of which she did not recognise. They were about to give up when they found a small room tucked away in the back of the shop. There, rather than uniforms, it had outdoor clothing.

  ‘This looks like the clothing scouts would wear,’ said Mug.

  Walking around the room which was laid out just like a typical high street shop in Buttercup, she studied the clothes that were folded in neat piles on the shelves or hanging from clothing racks. She picked up a few items. The clothing was simple, warm, hard-wearing and would help her to blend into the background. Perfect.

  She held a shirt against her, then a skirt and a pair of trousers. Each item of clothing had an Elp stick in it which refused to be removed. The items looked like they would fit fine, so she took a second set and tucked them under her arm, turning to leave. There was a bowl on a shelf just as they exited the room. It had a note propped against it saying, Please Pay Here.

  ‘How much?’ she said.

  ‘Just put money in the bowl and when you have paid enough it will reject your coin.’ She dug into her bag for some coins. She put one coin in the bowl and then another and when she got to the third coin it bounced back out. The Elp sticks cracked open and floated into the bowl.

  ‘Are they Elps?’

  ‘No, these are Elp-locking sticks and have no Elp life in them. I bet this shop is owned by a witch.’ Mug looked a little green at the thought.

  ‘What if it is?’ said a tall, thin girl walking towards them. It was April. ‘It’s not a bad thing to be a witch, you know, and it takes many years of training. I see you have found some scout clothing. Not many people want to buy them. I look after the shop on Saturdays for Mum when she has witch work.’ Mug blanched. ‘Stop that. I am not a witch yet and even if I was, I would not eat you. For goodness’ sake, you’re more likely to be eaten by a featherlite and you’re not scared of Deelind, are you? You molers are funny things. You spend far too much time underground and in the dark.’