by A. J. Low
“Whew,” Jimmy said. “Good thing I’m also invulnerable to the ground. I fall over a lot.”
Jimmy thought about trying on the armour, but it was clearly much too large for him.
“That armour could easily fit five Jimmies!” he said. He left it behind for the villagers to use.
He continued his journey for a few more days, each day getting darker and gloomier, until he finally reached the Dark Sorcerer’s castle on the darkest and gloomiest day. The castle was no longer gleaming like it had been when King Nazhar was on the throne. It was now darker than the sky, every wall and tower blacker than pitch. When he looked up, Jimmy could see platforms moving, with pendulum traps swinging back and forth. Some of them had hammers, while others had sharper implements.
The field outside the castle was littered with armour and weapons from a score of great heroes. Jimmy picked up all the weapons he recognised: Eliza the Expert’s mace, Siva the Stout’s shield, Wendy the Wise’s polearm and King Nazhar’s greatsword. And then, a short distance away, Jimmy found Donna and Martha, his mother’s twin swords. He picked them up, put them in one of his magical pouches with the rest of the weapons he had collected, and looked up at the dark castle again.
“I’m coming for you, Dark Sorcerer,” Jimmy said, “because bad people need to be punished.”
“Do they really?”
Jimmy was surprised by a tall blond boy standing in front of the drawbridge.
“Do bad people really need to be punished?” he asked again. “I think my…master…would disagree.” He seemed to not like saying the word “master”.
“I know you,” Jimmy said. “You’re James the Good! How did you manage to escape from the Dark Sorcerer?”
“Heh. James the Good. I’ll probably have to change that soon,” he said, spinning his daggers in his hands. “The short answer to your question: I didn’t.”
Jimmy gasped. “You’ve joined the Dark Sorcerer!”
“It was either that, or get thrown in the dungeon with everyone else,” James said. “I prefer my freedom—wouldn’t you?”
Without warning, James threw two daggers at Jimmy. Jimmy deftly blocked them with his wooden sword, knocking them both out of the air.
“Not bad,” James said. “Not bad at all. But you know I can’t let you in the castle. My… master…is busy right now. There’s simply no way you’re going to defeat me, the greatest of all warriors in King Nazhar’s service, with a wooden sword.”
Jimmy smiled widely. “You’re not working for King Nazhar anymore, and this is a very special wooden sword. It belonged to my mom.”
James laughed, and Jimmy ran straight towards him. He tripped on a wooden shield before he reached James, making James laugh even harder. But Jimmy rolled out of his fall, sending the shield high in the air with his feet. James looked up to follow the arc of the shield as it sailed way over his head.
“Was that supposed to—” James didn’t get a chance to finish his question as a wooden sword thwacked him squarely on the forehead, knocking him right out.
“I told you the sword was special,” Jimmy said as the shield clattered to the ground.
Jimmy walked past James, who was dreaming of marshmallows, and went down into the dungeons.
When he arrived, he saw King Nazhar and all his great warriors, including Jimmy’s mom, Vivian the Valiant. They were sitting in a small dungeon with bars all around them. The stone floor was covered in dirty hay. The warriors’ ankles were chained to the floor.
“Jimmy!” she shouted. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to help you defeat the Dark Sorcerer!” Jimmy said. “But I need your help, so I came down here to free you all first!”
“That’s great!” Wendy the Wise said. “The only problem is that you’ll have to go through a long and dangerous dungeon crawl to find the keys to unlock the dungeons. There is a large wyvern guarding the keys at the very end of the dungeon.”
Jimmy grabbed the keys that were hanging on the wall. “Can’t I just use these?” he asked.
Wendy the Wise looked down at her shoes. “Yes, I suppose those would work too.”
Jimmy opened all the dungeon gates and unchained their legs. King Nazhar was very grateful, promising to make Jimmy a warrior in his service once they had defeated the Dark Sorcerer.
“There are many guards and traps we have to avoid before we can get to the Dark Sorcerer,” King Nazhar said. “We can take care of all of them so that you can get into the Dark Sorcerer’s chamber.”
“Sounds good!” Jimmy said.
King Nazhar and all his warriors ran up into the main castle, and started fighting the guards and disabling traps. Wendy the Wise, Siva the Stout and Eliza the Expert fought alongside King Nazhar, while Vivian the Valiant bent to kiss her son on the forehead, as she had done the last time she saw him. “Go get him, Jimmy,” she said, before joining her comrades in battle.
Jimmy made his way into the throne room, jumping and tripping across various moving platforms, deftly and accidentally avoiding all the traps in place. He entered the Dark Sorcerer’s chamber behind the throne room, where he found a small hamster reading a large book.
“You’re so cute!” Jimmy said.
The hamster abruptly stopped reading and squeaked loudly, “Who dares enter the secret chamber of Benjamin, the Dark Sorcerer!”
“Me! I dare!” Jimmy said. “I’m Jimmy! Nice to meet you, Benjamin!”
The Dark Sorcerer was a bit taken aback.
“How did you get past all my guards and traps?”
“King Nazhar and all his warriors helped!” Jimmy said. “My mom’s with them too!”
“You freed my prisoners?!” the Dark Sorcerer squeaked. “How did you get past the wyvern guarding the keys?”
“You left an extra set of keys on the wall!” Jimmy grinned.
Benjamin facepalmed. “That is the last time I hire non-union wyverns.”
“You’ve been a very bad hamster, Benjamin!” Jimmy said.
“I am no mere hamster!” the Dark Sorcerer squeaked. “I am much more now! Watch as I show you my true power!”
The Dark Sorcerer chanted an incantation in a dead language as a mist enveloped his tiny hamster body. “Now watch, as I shapechange into a fearsome creature!”
When the mists parted, Jimmy saw that Benjamin had changed himself into a fearsome… guinea pig.
“You’re so adorable!” Jimmy shouted.
“Hurm. I must have got the incantation wrong,” the Dark Sorcerer said. “Wait, wait, let me try again.”
“Are you going to turn into something even cuter?” Jimmy asked.
The Dark Sorcerer glared at Jimmy with his new guinea pig features before starting another incantation. The mists surrounded the guinea pig again, but this time, grew to fill the entire room.
When the mists parted this time, a fearsome winged dragon was revealed.
“Now tremble before my awesome might!” the Dark Sorcerer bellowed, smoke spewing from his nostrils.
Jimmy stared in awe, before finally saying, “A dinosaur! So cool!”
“Yes, I am a mighty— Wait, what? A dinosaur? No, I’m not a dinosaur!” the Dark Sorcerer shouted. “I’m a dragon! A winged fire-breathing dragon!”
Jimmy scratched his head. “I don’t think so,” he said. “Dragons aren’t real. But dinosaurs are! Well, they were. They’re an ex-thing now.”
“You mean ‘extinct’,” the Dark Sorcerer said. “And it doesn’t matter because I can turn into things that never existed.”
“Really?!” Jimmy said, excitement in his voice. “Can you turn into a unicorn?”
“Of course I can!” the Dark Sorcerer said. “My power is limitless!”
After a quick incantation and some mist, the Dark Sorcerer appeared as a white unicorn with a horn on its head.
Jimmy applauded. “Do a phoenix now!”
The Dark Sorcerer intoned, and after a quick misting, appeared as a flaming orange bird.
Jimmy applauded again. “Do the abonimabobble snowman!”
“Just say ‘yeti’,” the Dark Sorcerer said. “It’s much easier to say.” He was getting annoyed at all these requests, but the Dark Sorcerer didn’t want Jimmy to think he couldn’t do it, so he shapechanged into an abominable snowman.
“That’s it, no more,” the Dark Sorcerer said. “I’ve done enough to prove my limitless power!”
“Aww, just one more!” Jimmy said. “Please!”
The Dark Sorcerer grumbled under his breath. “Fine, fine, one more.”
Jimmy thought for a second, then said, “I know! Bet you can’t turn into a gummy bear!”
“Of course I can!” the Dark Sorcerer boasted. He said his incantation, was enveloped by mists again, and when the mists parted, the Dark Sorcerer was a tiny green gummy bear.
“Tolb you I hab limmimess powa!” the Dark Sorcerer said with his new gummy mouth.
“What?” Jimmy asked.
The Dark Sorcerer touched his gummy mouth with his gummy hands and said, “Oh bo.”
He tried to say his incantation, but it came out as gibberish. He could no longer speak his magic words.
The Dark Sorcerer had been defeated.
The news of this spread quickly, and the entire kingdom of Katonglia rejoiced. King Nazhar kept his promise and, at a lavish ceremony in which all the warriors, including Vivian the Valiant (who wouldn’t have missed this for the world), were present, he inducted Jimmy into his service, dubbing him Jimmy the Jolly.
Jimmy had never grinned more widely in his whole life.
And, of course, he tripped on his way to kneel before the king, but that didn’t stop him. Nothing ever did.
THE END
It was the Lion City.
Somewhere in this city was the top-secret organisation known as the Supper Club—its business was counter-espionage and food. Its two top agents were Agent M and Agent D, otherwise known as Agent Mom and Agent Dad. The Supper Club was run by a mysterious headofoperations known only as Chief, or Miss Chief if you wanted to be very polite (and it is always a good idea to be polite around the chief).
Agent M and Agent D had been activated by the chief on a stupendously urgent matter.
“What’s up, Chief?” Agent Dad asked, strolling into the chief’s office. He was in a spiffy dark grey suit and had a fedora on his head that was tilted jauntily at just the right angle. He had spent almost 15 minutes that morning adjusting it carefully.
“It’s the Tissue Paper Gang again, Agent D,” Miss Chief replied, spinning around in her chair to face Agent D. At 11, she was the youngest chief in the history of the Supper Club and, some said, also the most ruthless. She appeared in her schoolgirl disguise, a white blouse and blue pinafore.
“Egad. Not the Tissue Paper Gang again!” Agent D exclaimed, his eyes bugging out in horror. “What terror are they wreaking this time?”
“We’ve encountered them previously,” a calm, measured voice said from behind him. Agent D jumped in shock.
“Agent M! I told you not to sneak up on me again!”
Agent M stood leaning against the doorframe, a slight smile on her face. She was in a chic bright red dress and black heels. “I’m surprised you’re surprised, Agent D. I made an enormous racket walking through the hallway in these ridiculous shoes.”
“I was distracted by the case, Agent M,” Agent D said, sniffing in indignation. “Also, my ears haven’t really popped after the air turbulence from our last flight. You know how sudden changes in air pressure affect me.”
Agent M smiled enigmatically and made her way over to the chair in front of Miss Chief’s desk. She sat down and crossed her legs.
“What’s our mission, Chief?” she said.
“Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to take down the Tissue Paper Gang once and for all,” the chief replied, her eyes glittering. She then blinked and pushed away a stray strand of hair away from her face.
“Of course we accept,” Agent Dad replied, plopping down on the chair next to his fellow agent. “Right, Agent M?”
She nodded.
“Excellent. Let’s begin the briefing, shall we?” Miss Chief replied. She looked up and shouted at the ceiling. “Let the Cone of Silence descend!”
They waited…and waited. Nothing happened.
“Hmm. I guess it’s stuck again,” the chief said, sighing. “Anyway, here’s your mission brief…”
An hour later, Agent D and Agent M were standing at a hawker centre. It was hot—so hot that it felt like they were swimming in a cup of thick, hot kopi. It probably wasn’t the best time to be dressed in evening wear. Agent M was in a high-necked red gown and Agent D was in a blue velvet tuxedo. A child pointed at them and laughed. His mother immediately pulled him away.
“I think there might have been a slight error in the mission brief,” Agent M said, doing her utmost not to perspire by sheer force of will.
“Either that, or they haven’t yet forgiven me for that brilliant prank I pulled last week,” Agent D said, tugging at his bowtie. “Look at that elderly uncle drinking that cup of thick, hot kopi, Agent M,” Agent D said, wiping his sweaty brow. “I feel like I’m swimming in it. Surely he is a person of interest in this case. No one would willingly sit and drink a hot drink in this sweltering weather.”
“Oh, Agent D, this is no time for jokes. Everyone knows that elderly uncles have the superpower to drink hot drinks in this weather and not sweat,” Agent M said impatiently. “We’ve got to keep our eyes peeled for possible members of the Tissue Paper Gang!”
“First things first, Agent M,” Agent D said in a low whisper. “I think you should call me Mike on this case. Calling me Agent D might draw suspicion.”
“I don’t think it’ll be our names that will draw undue attention to us, Age—I mean, Mike. But oh well, why not,” Agent M replied.
“Now we need to think about what we should call you,” Agent D said, putting on his thinking face. Just then, a stray cat leapt onto one of the tables in front of them.
“Cat!” Agent D shrieked, stumbling backwards.
“Fine, you can call me Kat,” Agent M said, already distracted by something that she had spotted a distance away. “I see something suspicious over there. Let’s go!”
Grabbing his arm, Agent M high-heeled it in the direction she had been staring. However, when she got there, all she found was a group of empty tables. They were suspiciously empty. Not a single person was seated at them, even though many people were wandering around holding plates and bowls filled with food, looking aggrieved (and also doing doubletakes at the odd couple in their inappropriate clothing). In a crowded hawker centre during a busy lunch hour, any empty table was worthy of investigation.
“Look at these, Agent D—”
“Mike!” Agent D interrupted.
Agent M sighed and repeated, “Look at these, Mike.” She gestured at the evidence on the table tops. “It’s clear that the Tissue Paper Gang has struck here. We must have just missed them.”
“Indeed, Agent—I mean, Kat,” Agent D replied, swiftly correcting himself. “According to the notes every witness statement has said that the culprits were ‘nondescript’. They could be anyone!”
“Or, it could be that the previous agents on the case were interviewing people who were on their lunch hour and too hungry, or in too much of a rush to talk to them,” Agent M muttered under her breath.
“Which is why I’ve put my best agents on the case,” a voice said from inside both their ears.
“Argh!” Agent D yelled, grabbing his left ear and wincing.
“Did you forget to lower the volume again, Agent…I mean, Mike?” Agent M asked, clearly trying not to laugh.
Agent D pretended not to hear her (or he might have actually gone temporarily deaf in his left ear) as he adjusted the volume on his hidden earpiece. He then muttered, “Whatever happened to a good old-fashioned shoe telephone? These newfangled earpieces are just so complicated! And you can’t
even speak through them.”
“They can pick up whatever you’re saying, Agent D,” Miss Chief retorted. Fortunately, this time, her voice was at a more acceptable volume.
“Back to the case,” Agent M said. “Since we don’t have accurate witness testimony, we’ll just have to catch the Tissue Packet Gang culprits in the act!”
“Good luck with that,” the uncle drinking the thick, hot, oily kopi remarked, taking another sip of his steaming beverage without breaking a sweat.
Agent M and Agent D looked at each other then leant in to peer more closely at the elderly uncle.
“Is that you, Agent S?” Agent M finally asked.
The elderly uncle grinned, looked around and pulled off his mask! A much younger face emerged. It was indeed Agent S, or Agent Siva, as he was sometimes known.
“Wow, Agent S,” Agent D said, “I would have never recognised you under that mask. And how are you drinking that ridiculously hot kopi without breaking a sweat?”
Agent S looked around once again and then pulled opened the top of his shirt, revealing an icy blue singlet underneath. “It’s an ice-pack singlet. I put it in the freezer overnight and wore it under my shirt in the morning. It gives the illusion that I’m one of the super-powered elderly uncles!”
“That’s an amazing disguise, Agent S!” Agent M exclaimed. “So what have you found out?”
“It’s even more dire that we had originally thought,” Agent S said in a low voice. “Their recruitment process is extremely effective. Just today, I saw random office workers leaving packets of tissue on empty tables, signalling that they had joined the Tissue Packet Gang. They later came back to those same tables and sat down.”
“What did they do after they sat down?” Agent D asked, his eyes wide.
“They ate,” Agent S replied.
“Each other? Were they monsters?” Agent D asked, looking horrified.
“What? No. They ate their lunch,” Agent S said, frowning.
“So the new recruits of the Tissue Packet Gang signalled that they had joined the nefarious gang by leaving packets of tissue on empty tables. Then they bought their lunches and came back and sat down and ate their food?” Agent M asked, looking perplexed.