The Secret of the Storm Cloud

by Sidney Gibson

  Hidden in a dusty corner, secured with heavy chains and brass combination locks were the dangerous books. Dehydrated and shabby, they chronicled the evil procedures of malevolent power captured from corrupt witches and wizards at different times throughout history. The cache was complete except for The Great Book of Evil Spells which had been cleverly hidden out of harms way by the ancients long ago. If this hiding place was somewhere in Lower Chantment and the Book fell into Anniolate’s clutches, she would not hesitate to exploit its knowledge and inflict widespread wickedness.

  ***

  The elfin receptionist rang through and whispered excitedly “They’re here, Miss Wilmcurse. Prince Danial, Azel Goodwill and another gentleman - er, Sir something I think he said”

  “Send them in” said Miss Wilmcurse “Don’t keep them waiting - quickly now”

  The tall double doors swung open and Prince Danial strode through, looking straight ahead to avoid eye contact with the girls working at the benches.

  “WOOOOOOOOO.” they all chorused, grinning and surreptitiously nudging each other.

  “It’s Prince Danial” shrieked Cynthia, rather too loudly.

  “Yeah, looks really great don’t he” joined in Maggie “As ‘e gorra girlfriend do y’ think?”

  “‘E must ave. Ere, look at them muscles in ‘is legs - I bet ‘e carn arf run quick”

  “E would if you were after ‘im” giggled Sonia from the back.

  “That is enough, thank you” thundered Miss Wilmcurse angrily. “Remember to whom you are talking and show respect, or you’ll all get an extra evening shift”

  ‘The Spellbreakers’ boy band were performing on stage in the palace that night and the last thing the girls wanted was not to be there in time to hear Gordinius sing his latest song.

  “Sorry Miss Wilmcurse” they chanted and turned to get on with their work.

  Danial felt glad Miss Wilmcurse had interrupted, but in fact he was well pleased his leg muscles had been noticed and he gently flexed them as he felt sure Cynthia was still looking.

  Sir Clive meanwhile, turned pale with shock, and had to grope at a nearby chair for support. ‘Really’ he muttered, ‘the young people of today have no idea whatsoever how to speak to royalty. Why, in my day.......’

  His reflections were brought to an abrupt end when Sonia shouted loudly “Oy, grand dad. Why aren’t you wearing tights - what’s wrong with your legs, ‘eh?’

  They all began to giggle again.

  “I said that is enough!” thundered Miss Wilmcurse. “This is your final warning.”

  “Sorry Miss Wilmcurse” they chorused.

  “Thank you” said Clive gratefully “I really don’t know how you put up with this lot every day”

  “Oh they’re not as bad as you might think. There’s no harm meant” said Miss Wilmcurse “They work hard and one must forgive an occasional display of high spirits now and then. Especially when important visitors like yourselves come to see us”

  Sir Clive visibly preened himself. He had always hoped someone would think of him as being important but nobody in all his life had said so until now. Miss Wilmcurse was obviously someone with taste and an appreciation of class. Maybe he should get to know her a little better.

  “Azel! Azel Goodwill” Miss Wilmcurse said. “How nice to see you again after all this time. How are you? And Prince Danial. Your royal highness, I am honoured” she went on, giving a little curtsey.

  “It’s good to see you too Army. You haven’t changed a bit” exclaimed Azel.

  “SSSHH. Please SSSHH!” hissed Miss Wilmcurse with a look of horror. “Nobody knows my name is Army. If my girls knew that, they’d start calling me barmy or smarmy or worse. They’d show no respect. I’d have no authority at all. I am Miss Wilmcurse. Do you understand Azel? Miss Wilmcurse and no other name.”

  Army’s mum had really wanted to call her Amy, but the Vicar at the christening was no good at spelling and wrote Army by mistake so Miss Wilmcurse got stuck with the wrong name. Which unluckily, she did not like.

  “Oh dear, sorry” said Azel “Of course I’ll call you Miss Wilmcurse. I’m really sorry”

  They were interrupted by a polite knock on the office door followed by a shuffling of carpet slippers. A bent old lady edged her way through carrying a tray rattling with fine bone china plates, cups, saucers, a tin of biscuits, bowl of sugar, steaming tea pot, jugs of hot water and milk, four teaspoons, and a coffee pot. It was Violet, a long standing servant at the palace assigned to Miss Wilmcurse to take care of cleaning and refreshments. Amazingly nothing spilt or fell off and Violet carefully placed it on the edge of Miss Wilmcurse’s desk.

  “Cor, that were ‘eavy’’ she said ‘’Will that be all Miss?”

  “Yes thank you, Violet. That will be all” said Miss Wilmcurse briskly.

  “So now” she continued quickly “before we start can I offer you something to drink and would anyone like a suggestive biscuit to go with it?”

  “Suggestive biscuit?” queried Danial “Don’t you mean digestive?”

  “Eau noo.” said Miss Wilmcurse primly “Eau noo, noo noo. I mean suggestive most definitely. One of my best recipes. They might look like ordinary biscuits but all you have to do is suggest to them what they should taste like and they take on the flavour you want. Like to try one?”

  “Er, thank you but if you wouldn’t mind I’ll just have coffee please” said Danial wondering if the biscuit might change flavour if someone spoke and suggested it changed to something not very nice just as he popped it into his mouth.

  “Just coffee for me too, thank you” said Azel.

  “And me” chipped in Sir Clive.

  “Oh. Are you quite sure?” asked Miss Wilmcurse obviously disappointed “Are you quite sure, your royal highness? She repeated looking appealingly at Danial.

  “Well, alright then. I will try one”

  Danial helped himself to a suggestive biscuit from the tin and gently put it down on the delicate bone china plate decorated with flower pattern and a gold rim. The biscuit looked up at him expectantly.

  “Um, what shall I suggest?” he asked

  “When it comes to the crunch, you can suggest anything you like” said Sir Clive pleased to be making such a good joke in front of Miss Wilmcurse.

  “I suggest, er, um, er. Oh I don’t know. What about beans on toast? Yeh, beans on toast that’s what I suggest.” He popped the biscuit in to his mouth. Whole, in one go.

  Anyone who has had beans on toast will know how very hard it must be for a single biscuit to taste anything like as good. It did.

  “Mmm’’ he mumbled. “It’s fantastic. How do you do it?

  “Ah, your highness” she replied “Years of practice and experience created those biscuits. And of course a little magic” she added modestly. “Would you like to try another flavour?”

  “Ahem!” interrupted Azel “We should be getting on with the job in hand Danial. You don’t want another biscuit do you’’ she told him curtly.

  “Oops, sorry Azel. No thanks” said Danial, his mouth full of biscuit crumbs. He thought it wacky the biscuit hadn’t turned into a runny mess of tomato sauce and munched up baked beans.

  Fumbling inside the top right hand drawer of her desk, Miss Wilmcurse hastily pulled out a tangled assortment of coloured string “Here they are. Seven league shoe laces”

  “Seven league shoe laces?” exclaimed Danial, doubtful how a jumble of string could be of any use whatsoever.

  Miss Wilmcurse continued “With these laces you can stride seven leagues in one step. Anybody can slip a pair of laces in their own shoes and be on their way in no time at all”

  “What’s ‘leagues’?” asked Danial not having a clue what she was going on about.

  “A league is, well, a league is er, about thre
e miles actually” said Miss Wilmcurse proudly “You can simply travel miles in minutes whatever the terrain. You can chase people and catch them up. You can escape from enemies. You can jump rivers and step over houses. You can......’

  “Miss Wilmcurse” interrupted the Prince “You’re saying seven leagues are twenty one miles, but who knows what a mile is? It’s another of those old measurements isn’t it? Before we used metric? What does a league work out to in metric?”

  Now Miss Wilmcurse took a turn to look blank. She had invented the seven league shoe laces to cover twenty one miles and knew nothing about metric. She supposed it must be something to do with that technology thing and looked helplessly at Azel.

  Azel smiled and held up her hand. Out of nowhere a cluster of 3D numerals emerged and tumbled aimlessly about, twisting and turning around her fingers.

  “Now, my clever little numbers” whispered Azel “Tell us the answer please. How many kilometres are there in seven leagues?”

  The numerals danced around happily for a moment and then suddenly, all except two disappeared. These arranged themselves so that everybody could read the answer. It was thirty five. Then the numbers vanished as quickly as they had appeared.

  “Thirty five?” said Danial in disbelief. “Thirty five kilometres in one stride? That’s awesome.”

  “You can take one pair each and one pair spare for emergencies if you think they might be useful” said Miss Wilmcurse

  “Certainly” said Azel “Thank you. What else have you got?”

  Miss Wilmcurse stood up and picked up a small package from the shelf behind her.

  “This” she said with some importance “this is a compact, multifunctional, levitational skate board. You use it normally on smooth surfaces but in multifunction mode it will travel quickly over ground too rough to skate on. As you can see, it is entirely collapsible down to a very small size for carrying in your pocket. Allow me to demonstrate”

  The package was beautifully made. Square cut oblong metal panels fitted tightly together and as Miss Wilmcurse touched the first panel it made a satisfying click and snapped open. Click! Click! Click! In a moment the whole skate board had unfolded itself and sat on the ground shining in bright red paint with chunky wheels, and tough moulded rubber foot plates. How it had all been packed in such a tiny package was incredible.

  “Oh that’s wonderful!” shouted Sir Clive enthusiastically and rather more loudly than he had intended “Do please let me have a go on it”

  The others looked at him. Then they looked at each other, and then at Miss Wilmcurse for an answer.

  “But Sir Clive of course you can have a go” she said. “It’s designed to be very simple to operate and is self balancing. Just stand on it with both feet, here, yes, that’s right. Now move one foot forward. Yes, yes, that’s right - now go!”

  After an initial wobble, Sir Clive skated confidently down the middle of the work room to the cheers of the girls. Suddenly he shot off out of control at great speed through the door and hammered down the corridor like a racing motorbike gone wrong. The girls screamed with delight.

  “Oh dear” gasped Miss Wilmcurse “Have I done the right thing letting Sir Clive Butterupp off on his own like that?’

  “Don’t worry ‘said Danial smiling broadly “he’ll be fine, you’ll see. Listen, here he comes now”

  Red faced and flustered, Sir Clive crashed back through the door and screeched to a stop, his normal composure obviously shaken up quite a bit.

  “My oh my oh my” he blurted breathlessly, trying to keep his balance whilst staying in one place without moving “Dearie me I’m sure I don’t know. Some speed, some speed indeed. How do I get off this thing?” he panted desperately.

  Miss Wilmcurse leaned across and pressed a switch on one edge of the skate board and instantly Clive fell off.

  “Phew. What an alarming perambulation.” said Sir Clive staggering clumsily to his feet.(He often used big words when something shocked him)”That thing’s not safe” he puffed.

  Azel could hardly keep a straight face and stifled an impulse to laugh. Clive had tried to show off in front of Miss Wilmcurse but his efforts had gone so wrong he’d had enough embarrassment without being laughed at.

  “Poor Clive” she said “What a horrible experience - do sit down. It’s perfectly safe - if you know how to work it that is” she giggled “We’ll take the skate board as part of our equipment.”

  “Ah” Miss Wilmcurse smiled, “skating is not all it can do. Watch”

  She stepped on to the skate board and touched another switch on its edge. Gently, it moved silently upwards.

  “There. It makes a platform for when you need to look over walls, climb up to high windows or reach anything you want really. And don’t forget it packs down to hardly anything at all”

  “Cool’ said Danial. ‘ Fold it up. I’ll put it in my pocket. Oh no! Can’t do that - I have no pockets in this costume”

  Azel seized on the chance to get him out of those ghastly tights and into something more suitable for the mission’

  “You do have a point there Danial. No pockets are quite a disadvantage out in the field. Perhaps Miss Wilmcurse could make a few suggestions on what you could wear?”

  “Well” replied Miss Wilmcurse “I think many young people these days wear ‘designer gear.’ Jeans and trainers and that sort of thing. That’s what I think anyway”

  “What are jeans?” asked Danial.

  “You had better ask the girls” said Miss Wilmcurse. “Even better, Sonia actually does the ‘Spellbreakers’ wardrobe. They dress in that designer gear stuff. Sonia” she called out, “can you pop in a moment, please. There’s something Prince Danial wants you to do”

  Danial abruptly went quiet. He didn‘t want Sonia to tell him what to wear but on the other hand, she would know what would look right out there on the mission. She came in looking pleased about being called to the meeting.

  “Yes, your highness?”

  “Ah, er, um, yes Sonia, er, thank you” bumbled Prince Danial “we, er, that is, er well it’s me actually. You see I need to consider wearing different sort of clothes. Y’know, bit of an image make-over sort of thing. What do you think?” he ended hurriedly.

  Sonia slowly looked Prince Danial up and down. Then said “No problem. Come with me and I’ll get you fitted out from the ‘Spellbreakers’ wardrobe, yeah?”

  Azel cut in quickly. She didn’t need Sonia to chat up the Prince and distract him from the mission.

  “No Sonia, Prince Danial has to stay here. We still have a lot to do. If you would be so kind as to collect the gear you think would be right I’ll use magic to make it fit”

  “Are you sure?” questioned Sonia

  “Quite sure, thank you. Let me know when Prince Danial is able see your selection”

  “I know” said Sonia “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you all come to the ‘Spellbreakers’ performance tonight? The Prince could try on his new outfit in the dressing room and at the same time you can meet the boys in the band and get their opinion. What do you think?”

  Azel looked at Danial with quizzically raised eyebrows.

  “Yes” he said. “I think that’s a very good idea. We can find time before we leave can’t we Azel.”

  Azel nodded her head in thoughtful agreement.

  “Ahem” coughed Sir Clive, now recovered from his alarming experience on the skate board, “you will naturally of course be making appropriate arrangements to seat Prince Danial in a place where he is able to see the show without having to risk danger mixing with a bunch of yobs?

  ‘Bunch of yobs?’ said Sonia indignantly ‘They’re all very nice people, thank-you-very-much Grand dad. It’s not dangerous wherever he sits.’

  “Young woman” retorted Sir Clive “I’ll have you speak with a little
more respect in the company of his royal highness. Let me remind you he is the crown Prince you know”

  “Thank you! Thank you!” shouted Miss Wilmcurse firmly “We don’t want any arguments now do we? Sonia, off you go and we shall be at the theatre by - what time did you say the band started?”

  “Seven thirty, Miss Wilmcurse”

  “Very well then, we will be there at six forty three p.m.”

  Miss Wilmcurse was always precise about time and Sonia knew she would not be late. Or early.

  “And make sure Prince Danial has a good seat” called out Sir Clive as Sonia hurried away “And me too.” he shouted irritably.

  “Keep cool Grand dad” sang out Sonia thinking she wouldn’t be heard. But she was.

  “Now” said Azel briskly “Are there any other items of equipment to show us? I have get down to the workshops to pick up my Warpsweeper broom”

  “Now let me see” mused Miss Wilmcurse “Oh yes. What about the paperless pencil. That might be useful”

  “Paperless pencil? What good is a pencil without paper?”

  “Ah” went on Miss Wilmcurse lifting the lid of a box on her desk. “Here we are. The paperless pencil”

  “It looks like an everyday pencil to me” said Danial.

  “So it might” said Miss Wilmcurse “Until you start to write in the air with it”

  She waved the pencil in the air as if writing something and there, flowing across the room like wispy smoke was a message in Miss Wilmcurse’s hand writing. It said:

  ‘This is written by a paperless pencil. You jot down notes in the air or send someone a message wherever they are just by huffing on the words you’ve written. It is a magic version of the Red Indian smoke signal but nobody else can read it unless you say the words: huff’an puff’an readum message. Then say the name of the person you are writing to’.