by Sean Davies
"Well, hope your boss is pleased with the quill," Lewis said. "Don’t forget to put a good word in for me."
"Don't worry, I won't forget. It was good working with you." Winston reached out and shook his hand. "I'll see you at the Hotel Noir soon."
"Make sure their bar is well fucking stocked for me," Lewis laughed, and walked away.
Winston walked back to Olex, who did a happy dance on his four legs when he saw that the Book Wielder was safe. "It's good to see you too. Now can you take me back to the hotel please?"
The Spidercar chirped and whistled steam in a pleased acknowledgement. Winston climbed aboard and soon they were on their way.
He didn't know if it was the thrill of battle, the energy potion, the fact he had succeeded in his almost suicidal mission, or a combination of all three, but he was feeling fantastic.
Olex brought him to the hotel, where the Mayor was waiting for them both outside.
"Winston, my boy! You made it out alive!"
"Yes, Mr. Mayor, it's good to see you again." Winston exited the passenger section of Olex and was immediately set upon by the Mayor, who gave him a friendly hug that almost squeezed the life out of him.
"I take it you have the artefact? It is very powerful, very powerful indeed!" the Mayor boomed.
Winston held the quill up so that the Mayor could get a good look. "Yeah, I managed to get it from the Demon Overlord, and now that I have it I'll be on my way. Thank you again for allowing me safe passage of your city."
"Before you go, I have a proposition for you," the Mayor said in a hushed, shady tone. "I take it you know what that quill does, my boy?"
"Not a clue to be honest," Winston replied, slightly embarrassed.
"Not to worry, my boy,” the Mayor began, “nor did I when I first saw it glowing in the hand of that Demon filth, before he dropped down from the sky on the back of a dragon."
"Dragon?!" Winston interrupted in shock.
"Yes, a dragon, my boy. You don't have them in your world? What a strange place it must be, strange indeed! Anyway, they're gigantic nasty things, wings, tails, scales, that kind of thing. They live far above the purple haze. That they do!" the Mayor explained comically.
"I know what a dragon is,” Winston replied with a sigh, “I just didn't realise you had them here."
"We have all sorts of wondrous things here, my boy, but I fear we've gone slightly off topic.” The Mayor thought back to his original point and continued. “I went and questioned that Demon after his dragon had flown off, but the rude fellow shredded some of my people before he answered me, and then had the nerve to 'claim' the tower for himself. Demons are so bloody rude, I tell you, so bloody rude indeed!"
Winston burned with curiosity. "What did he say the quill does?"
"That, my boy, is where my proposition comes into play,” the Mayor grinned darkly. “That quill, if held by the correct person, like you, can create stable holes between the plains of existence. Think of it like drawing doorways between your world and mine. Now, your world is full of such yummy life-filled delights, and my world is full of things that your people crave just as much, correct?"
Winston could see where the conversation was heading, and he liked it. "That's correct, Mr. Mayor,” he smiled. “Are you proposing a trade of sorts?"
"Ah, my boy, you are a bright spark, a bright spark indeed!” the overstuffed Freak cheered. “You've hit the nail on the head. Just think of it, my people gather the things that your strange world wants, and your people gather all the yummy things we want here, and then we just trade them through a hole. Everyone’s happy, no mess, no fuss!"
"That sounds wonderful. I'll talk to my people and be back to arrange things with you at the next available opportunity, Mr. Mayor." He reached out and shook the Mayor’s big fabric puppet hand.
"Fate was too kind by allowing us to meet, young Winston, too kind indeed! I look forward to doing business with you. Until next time!" The Mayor waved goodbye theatrically.
"See you soon, Mr. Mayor," Winston said as he walked off towards the hotel, smirking slyly, knowing he had potentially hit the jackpot.
The tall receptionist Freak was waiting for Winston as he entered the building. "If it pleases Sir, I have made the elevators functional for you."
He hesitated, not wanting to throw away his run of good luck at the bottom of an elevator shaft. "Are you quite sure they're safe?"
"Oh, quite safe Sir! By orders of the Mayor himself!” the Freak replied in an upbeat voice. “In fact, if anything unpleasant should befall you upon these premises, then I’m to be flayed open, ripped apart and used for spare parts!”
"Oh, okay…” Winston replied. “In that case, I'll take one." He hoped that the receptionist wasn’t suicidal.
Winston was ushered to a relatively intact elevator, lit by the same type of witchlight lamps used in the lobby. He tapped the brass button for the top floor and a cage slid over the entrance.
“Thank you for visiting us Sir, we'll be seeing you next time," the receptionist smiled with his disproportionately wide mouth next to the cage bars, as the elevator slowly but surely took Winston up through the decayed old hotel.
When he reached the top floor, he found it was also lit by witchlight lamps, and the furnishings were now above the Gloom average. A partially-clean red carpet had even been laid along the floor leading back to the copy of the Autocrat suite. Winston hastily followed it and went back to his book, put the quill into his pocket, and laid his hands down on the open pages of his book. Everything started spinning until it was just a blur of incomprehensible colours, and then with a sudden gut-wrenching stop, he was back in the real world.