Lex Trent versus the Gods

by Alex Bell

  ‘Why, it appearth that dinner hath walked right into my cave all by it-thelf.’

  Lex and Schmidt turned around and out of the gloom stepped the wicked witch the kings were hunting. She had green skin, long, greasy black hair, a hooked nose with a large spot on the end of it that looked as if it was about to burst at any moment and her almost-blind eyes had a milky white sheen. She slowly smiled, displaying the revolting remnants of her decaying, yellowed teeth, although most of them were missing - which quite possibly explained the lisp. Lex could smell her bad breath from where he stood.

  ‘Urghh!’ he exclaimed in obvious and horrified disgust. As someone who was an absolute stickler for cleanliness, the contents of that rotting mouth were enough to make Lex feel sick. He turned on his heel with the intention of walking straight out of the cave and back into the forest. Better to risk insane kings and rabid draglings than this . . . But there were bars blocking his way. And when he turned back he realised that they were all around him, trapping them both. The witch had conjured up a cage - one of her gnarled, bent old hands with disgustingly overgrown fingernails was still stretched out towards them. She gave a dry cackle that made the hairs on the back of Lex’s neck stand up.

  ‘Dinner ith therved,’ she giggled to herself before turning away and promptly starting to build a cooking fire from the sticks and twigs that littered the floor.

  ‘I thought you said there was nothing dangerous in the forest?’ Schmidt hissed.

  ‘There isn’t, usually,’ Lex replied defensively. ‘She must be what the kings are hunting.’

  ‘And you call yourself a lucky person?’ Schmidt snarled. ‘Things just seem to go from bad to worse whenever you’re around!’

  ‘Oh, settle down,’ Lex said calmly. ‘I have every confidence that I shall be able to talk my way out of this. If you’re extra-specially polite to me, then I just might save your skin as well. Again.’

  He turned away from Schmidt and studied the cave. It was always sensible to study your surroundings first - see what might help you and what might hinder you . . . The cave was a deep one - stretching far back into the rock. There were obviously large trees above it, for Lex could see the thick roots entwined throughout the walls. Sunlight shone in from a hole in the ceiling and it was beneath this that the witch was assembling wood for a fire, attempting to whistle while she worked but - due to her lack of teeth - mostly just spitting on the sticks. There was a large black cauldron behind her, set on top of a metal tripod, presumably to hold it above the flames and, on the floor, were an assortment of rather dirty vegetables, which mostly seemed to be turnips and carrots.

  ‘How long have you been living here?’ Lex said, for if she had only been set loose in the forest that morning, then it seemed rather odd that she had stopped to collect vegetables and a cauldron from somewhere before finding a place to hide from the kings.

  ‘A few dayth,’ the witch replied cheerfully, ‘before the Goddeth took me to the kingth.’ She shrugged. ‘All they did wath thet me looth, tho I came thtraight back here and - lo and behold - my dinner came in right behind me. Wathn’t that a fortunate cointhidenth?’

  ‘Most fortunate,’ Lex replied. ‘But I see you already have quite an assortment of vegetables there to eat. Wouldn’t you rather just make do with them and allow me to reward you handsomely for letting us go free?’

  Lex could see at once that this line of reasoning was going to be quite, quite useless. The witch was already shaking her head vehemently. ‘There’th nothing like a good thlab of meat!’ she said gleefully as she pointed a gnarled finger at the pile of wood. A green spark leapt from her filthy fingertip and in a matter of moments caught onto the sticks so that they crackled away cheerfully. ‘Ethpecially little-boy meat - that’th alwayth the juithietht and I haven’t had any in thuch a long time!’

  Lex scowled. ‘Not that I suppose it matters much at this stage but - just for the record - I am not a little boy!’

  ‘You mean you’re a big boy?’ the witch replied, practically salivating at the mouth in anticipation as she dragged the cauldron towards the fire - water slopping over the edges as she did so. ‘Exthellent. Now I than’t have to wait and fatten you up a bit before eating you. Oh, what a featht I thall have!’

  ‘Skinny as a rake,’ Lex said hurriedly. ‘Not a scrap of meat on me. A walking skeleton would give you a better meal.’

  But the witch was cackling to herself and not listening to him.

  ‘I have a vast array of treasures in my magic bag here,’ Lex announced. ‘You can have your pick of anything in it if you will let us go free.’

  ‘I thall have everything in your bag little boy, oneth I have feathted on your flesh!’

  Lex swallowed. She had a point there. How could he possibly hope to bargain with anything that was inside the bag when it was as good as hers, anyway? He eyed her critically as she sat herself down beside the vegetables and started peeling the carrots with a dirty old knife. Despite being armed, she didn’t look very strong - he might be able to push her over when she opened the cage and then make a break for it. But witches were not like crones - they had dangerous magic of their own and she was bound to have some sort of fail-safe in place to ensure that Lex did not escape. For all he knew she would cast a spell so that he willingly climbed right into the pot himself . . . Lex shuddered at the thought. He feared he could hear the water bubbling already . . .

  He pulled himself together and desperately tried to think. If anyone was going to eat him, it was not going to be someone with teeth like that. An idea occurred to him and he said, hopefully, ‘You’ll never be able to eat me, you know. Not with those teeth. You can’t possibly chew meat with hardly a single tooth in your head. You’ll find me tough as old boots.’

  The witch carefully laid a peeled carrot on the ground. ‘I chop my food into very tiny pietheth. Like thith.’ And she lowered the knife and chopped through the carrot so quickly that in no time at all there was only a handful of bite-sized chunks on the floor. She scooped these up and dropped them into the cauldron with a splash. ‘I can eat you,’ she said with an obscene grin. ‘Jutht ath long ath I cut you up thmall enough firtht.’

  Lex swallowed hard. He didn’t like to admit it, but he was beginning to feel a little frantic. Turning his attention away from the witch, he looked at the cage instead, hoping to find some weakness, but the bars appeared to be made of bone and were quite solid. There didn’t seem to be any chance of breaking them or squeezing out between them. It was all beginning to look a bit desperate.

  ‘Whereabouts do you come from?’ he said. Lex had learnt long ago that, when in doubt, the thing to do was to keep people talking about themselves. Sooner or later they were bound to give you something that you could use against them.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Schmidt whispered, digging Lex sharply in the ribs. ‘How is making chitchat with her going to help?’

  ‘I don’t see you coming up with any ideas!’ Lex said irritably, shoving the lawyer away. ‘A fat lot of use you are, just standing there criticising me! Keep your bony fingers to yourself!’ But then his head snapped back to Schmidt and he stared at him for a moment as if he’d never seen him before. Then a grin slowly spread across his face. Schmidt did not like the look of that grin. He didn’t like the look of it one bit.

  Lex turned his attention back to the witch, looking at her intently. Just how blind was she? She must have some sight for she was cutting up carrots without any problems and yet her eyes were that milky-white colour so she obviously couldn’t see at all well . . .

  ‘I can see there’s no talking you out of it,’ Lex said loudly. ‘You’re going to eat me and that’s that.’

  ‘That’th that,’ the witch agreed, nodding her head over her carrots. There was a neat little row of them lined up in front of her already.

  ‘Yes. But what are you going to do about the stick? Cut it up and use it for your spells, I suppose.’

  ‘Thtick?’ the witch said, looking up suspici
ously, her hands stopping their peeling. ‘What thtick?’

  ‘Why, this one, of course,’ Lex replied, jabbing his thumb at Schmidt. ‘I found him on the forest floor. The kings knocked him off his tree during their hunt and I was going to return him. I mean, it never hurts to make a friend of a magic tree, does it? I knew he had to be from a magic tree because—’ He broke off abruptly because the expression on Schmidt’s face was putting Lex in imminent danger of laughing and it was very important that he didn’t. He pulled himself together, cleared his throat and went on, ‘It’s not every day you come across a walking, talking stick.’

  He clapped his hand over his mouth to muffle the snigger as the witch scrambled hastily to her feet and scuttled closer to the cage. She wasn’t quite close enough for Lex to touch her or try and make a grab at her, but she was near enough that he could see the sheen of grease on her green skin and the ever-so-faint glimmer of fear in her milky eyes as she squinted intensely at Schmidt’s tall, skinny frame.

  ‘That’th not a magic thtick!’ she said at last. ‘Magic thtickth talk.’

  Lex looked back at Schmidt. The only words he’d spoken since they were trapped had been whispered ones that the witch clearly had not heard. Lex opened his mouth to order Schmidt to say something but then hesitated. He was himself a natural actor and could embrace any role that was presented to him instantly - as such he knew he could have done a beautiful impression of a magic stick. But Schmidt was a dry old lawyer and was already looking rather panicky at the prospect of trying to pass himself off as anything other than what he was. Perhaps it was better that he shouldn’t talk, for he might somehow end up giving the game away and ruining everything.

  ‘Can ordinary sticks wave?’ Lex asked, with a pointed look at Schmidt who awkwardly raised his arm and waved it around a bit.

  But the witch, although she squinted at them intensely, was apparently unable to see this, for she said, ‘I don’t thee anything. That’th no magic thtick. You’re jutht trying to trick me with an ordinary one!’

  She was about to return to her carrots at any moment, Lex could tell. There was nothing for it. Desperate times and all that.

  ‘Well, come on, magic stick,’ Lex said with an air of impatience. ‘Speak up! Tell her what you are.’

  Schmidt scowled at him for a moment before clearing his throat and - looking exceedingly uncomfortable - said stiffly, ‘I am a magic stick.’

  The witch gave a great squeal of alarm and Lex - because he couldn’t resist it - said, ‘What makes you a magical stick?’

  ‘I can walk and talk,’ Schmidt replied through gritted teeth.

  Lex allowed himself to burst into laughter. It hardly mattered now, for the witch had clearly been taken in by it and, Lex had to admit, Schmidt’s dry, old voice did sound a bit like the sort a stick might have.

  ‘The joke’s on you, witch!’ Lex exclaimed gleefully. ‘Even as we speak the magic trees are tightening their roots around your cave. They want their stick back and they’re very angry with you for imprisoning him like this. Soon the roof will cave in altogether!’

  With the usual lucky timing that Lex seemed to be blessed with, there was a thundering from above - probably caused by an elephant-riding king going across the roof - and several clumps of mud were shaken loose to land on the witch’s shoulders. She screamed shrilly and suddenly the cage was gone and she was practically pushing them towards the exit.

  ‘Out, out!’ she gasped. ‘Get out at oneth. Tell the magic treeth to thtop - I’m letting you go! Leave my cave alone!’

  A moment later they found themselves back out in the dappled sunlight of the forest floor and the witch was barricaded securely in her cave. They set off in a random direction, eager to be as far away from her as possible. They were a reasonable distance away before Lex allowed himself to burst into laughter - partly because he was genuinely amused and partly because he wanted to add as much as he possibly could to Schmidt’s humiliation. The lawyer was not used to being put in undignified situations and - unlike Lex - he had not already been called all the names under the sun. Referring to him as a walking, talking stick was funny because, as far as Lex was concerned, there was a very large element of truth to it.

  He was a little disappointed that Schmidt didn’t rise to the bait, but instead merely stood there in dignified silence, watching him patiently. Lex had a good chortle anyway, determined not to let the lawyer ruin his fun, then he straightened up and said with his most smug expression, ‘You’re welcome!’

  ‘On the contrary,’ Schmidt replied calmly. ‘You are welcome.’

  Lex shrugged. ‘A team effort, I should say. I was the brains of the operation and you were . . . well, we all know what you were!’

  Still grinning, Lex looked around for the first time, taking in his surroundings and trying to get his bearings. The forest was silent. There was no sound of hooves or hunting horns or screamed war cries. All was quiet once again and it occurred to Lex that perhaps the kings had given up by now and gone home. After all, they enjoyed hunting but not enough to persuade them to miss their lunch, and the midday sun was now high in the sky. Time was flying by and they would have to get a move on if they wanted to get to the crown before the prophet. But . . . but . . .

  . . . There had been draglings before. And Lex knew that where there were draglings there would be a dragon lurking about somewhere, and where there was a dragon there was a dragon’s lair, and where there was a dragon’s lair there would be gold. Could there possibly be time to—‘Control your greed!’ Schmidt snapped.

  Lex looked at him in surprise. Had he actually been thinking out loud?

  ‘I can tell what you’re thinking!’ Schmidt sneered at the expression on his face. ‘You’re not very complex, Lex, I’m afraid.’

  ‘You’re quite right, Schmidt. The crown should be our first priority. But after that - if there’s time, of course - I think I may go dragon hunting.’

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  MATILDA

  Lex and Schmidt came across no more kings as they made their way through the forest, confirming Lex’s belief that the hunt was probably over by now. But they did meet a couple of fairy godmothers who were out picking berries now that the forest was safe again. Their faces fell when they saw Lex, thinking that he was going to start pestering them for wishes (as any normal person would have done) so when he asked them where the crown was hidden, they were only too happy to point him in the right direction to get rid of him. Lex had no interest in wishes. What was the fun in simply being given something? The satisfaction came to a large extent from earning the thing . . . or, as in Lex’s case, from pinching it. He smiled, hoping that Lucius and the prophet might stumble across a fairy godmother themselves and be slowed down, greedily thinking of things to wish for.

  When they came across a third fairy godmother, Lex made a show of whining about wishes first in order to convince the godmother to take him straight to the clearing where she knew the crown to be. He smiled as she led them on, keeping his eyes fixed on her neat grey bun. Apart from the slight detour with the witch, he had made good time. The others were certain to have ensnared themselves in traps or run into trouble with the kings and draglings and Lex was sure that they would not have been able to extricate themselves anywhere near as smoothly or quickly as he had done. He was bound to get there first. So with these happy thoughts going through his head, Lex was clearly somewhat less than impressed to walk out into the clearing to find that the crown . . . had already . . . gone. The colourful banners were there, hanging from the surrounding trees, the velvet cushion where the crown had sat was there but there was nothing else.

  ‘Where’s the crown?’ Lex said stupidly.

  ‘Someone got here first,’ Schmidt said with a smirk. ‘Serves you right for being so cocky.’

  ‘It’s not cockiness,’ Lex snapped. ‘We’ve made very good time. No one could have beaten us!’

  ‘The prophet left before we did,’ Schmidt said with a shrug. ‘You u
nderestimated him.’

  Lex shook his head impatiently. He knew he had taken the prophet’s head start into account. The prophet was blind and dumb and as such he would not be able to get help from the forest’s inhabitants. His precognitive ability would have helped him to some extent but he would still have had to circle the crown for some time before managing to zero in on it. This round should have been the easiest one for Lex since stumbling across the crown in the vast forest would be largely dependent on luck. And Lex was lucky even without the Lady.

  ‘It wasn’t the prophet,’ he said.

  ‘Lucius then,’ Schmidt suggested.

  Lex didn’t even deign to respond to that, the notion was so ridiculous . . . although . . . it was true that his brother had managed to get to the broken mirror in the sky castle first and it wasn’t like there was a riddle to solve this time. All he needed to do was put the crown on his head and surely even Lucius could manage that? Just as Lex’s horror began to mount at the thought that his brother might actually have somehow beaten him, the fairy godmother bent over something on the ground beside the bare cushion and muttered an irritated exclamation.