ISOF

by Pete Townsend

  ‘And,’ said Noj with an arch of an eyebrow. ‘I did warn you that the dragons get stressed easily and when that happens…’

  ‘Methane,’ chuckled Ben.

  ‘Add a spark,’ said Trep with a grin.

  ‘An explosive combination,’ laughed Ben.

  ‘That’s as maybe,’ replied Noj nudging Ben playfully on the shoulder. ‘But the real explosion will come if they catch us.’

  ‘Come on then,’ smiled Alpak. ‘You need to put more space between you than there is between the Cutters ears.’

  Ben groaned. ‘And I thought my jokes were poor.’

  ‘Laugh while you can,’ replied Alpak, looking back at the shimmering orange sky. ‘The Cutters may be busy for a while, but sooner or later they’ll be looking for retribution, and not being the smartest race on earth...’

  Mak, who had been quiet up to this point, spat on the ground. ‘They’ll not be thinking smart, just simple and effective.’ He rubbed the tip of his shoe in the newly dampened earth. ‘And that’s going to hurt, big time.’

  Alpak nodded at the boys. ‘Look,’ she said briskly. ‘I’ll slip back while everyone is still distracted. I can try and divert them by saying I saw you running back the way you’d first arrived. But,’ she added. ‘I suspect once Arodiron hears about your escape, he’ll send search parties in every direction.’ Giving them a quick smile, Alpak began to walk back towards the camp. ‘Go then,’ she hissed. With a wave, she disappeared back along the track towards the flecks of colour dancing in the sky.

  Before long, the glow of the Cutters camp became a speck in the distance as the group trudged through the retreating night. The lack of sleep made their feet feel heavy as legs struggled with motion.

  Without warning the daylight switched on. Blinking, the group found themselves on a rocky path with scraggy gorse bushes on either side. The path wound its way around a craggy outcrop before it stopped at the edge of a huge gash in the rock floor. The group gathered at the end of the path and stared into the near distance. Before them, the gash stretched as far as the eye could see. To their right the gash narrowed but continued to cut its way through the earth. Looking to their left, the gash became broader as it pushed back the forest as it swept its way to the horizon.

  Trep whistled. ‘Would you look at that?’ he said in awe. ‘An incredible piece of natural sculpture.’

  Noj’s shoulders lifted themselves towards his ears. ‘It may be sculpture to you, but this may be the gorge that Pinchkin mentioned.’ He shook his head momentarily. ‘What shall do we do now? Do we wait and see what happens or find a way across?’

  ‘Why don’t we just wait here?’ replied Mak sarcastically. ‘Before we know it, the Cutters will come along to thank us for the little warming present Ben left them.’

  Ben blew out his cheeks and shook his head.

  ‘I’ll run along the gorge to where it narrows and see if I can find a way across.’

  Before anyone could argue, and leaving Mak speechless for once, Ben raced off along the edge of the gorge with more energy than he thought possible.

  As loose rocks attempted to make him stumble, Ben was glad to be on his own and away from the constant jibes. He raced along the edge of the gorge looking into the widening cloud, while scraggy gorse bushes snatched at his legs in passing. Suddenly his progress came to a complete stop.

  ‘Ooomph!’ exploded two pairs of lungs noisily.

  Ben, rubbing at his head, sat in a winded heap on the floor. Looking between his fingers he saw an extraordinary sight. Right in front of him sat an odd collection of clothes topped by an old deerstalker hat. Protruding from the sleeve of a multi-pocketed flying jacket, a hand tentatively touched the face that sat lopsided under the hat. The face began muttering and moaning.

  ‘You young oaf,’ mumbled the face. ‘Hasn’t your mother ever told you that it’s preferable to look in the same direction as that to which you’re running?’

  ‘Sorry,’ muttered Ben, not completely sure what the face had actually said.

  ‘Sorry is it?’ asked the face. ‘Well, I’m sorry too. Sorry that you weren’t looking where you were going, sorry that I bothered to get out of bed this morning and sorry that you choose to make an impression on me with your head.’

  Ben sat back, his mouth wide open with surprise.

  ‘And you can close that,’ instructed the face sharply. ‘Before you cause another accident. Somebody could fall into a hole as big as that.’

  Ben promptly closed his mouth.

  ‘That’s better. It’s better for the wildlife too, some unsuspecting rabbit could have easily mistaken your mouth for its burrow.’

  Ben was too taken aback to say anything.

  ‘Lost your tongue have you?’

  ‘No, I haven’t,’ replied Ben cautiously. ‘Anyway, you could have looked where you were going as well. It takes two to tangle.’

  The pile of clothes with the face stood up.

  ‘So, Ben, not only have you got a tongue, it’s a cheeky one at that.’

  ‘How on earth…’ began Ben.

  ‘Know your name? I know far too many things, which often keep me awake at night.’ Briel scratched at his chin. ‘Mind you, so does putting tomato chutney on my strawberry-jam sandwiches.’

  A scrawny hand raised itself in front of Ben’s face.

  ‘I know,’ rasped the face. ‘I’m old enough to know better but I’m also old enough,’ continued the face with a hit of a smile. ‘To know that knowing better isn’t always the better for knowing it!’

  Without further comment, a scrawny hand grasped Ben by the wrist and pulled him to his feet.

  ‘Now,’ continued the face. ‘Introductions. Hello, you’re Ben.’ The hand began scratching at the Deerstalker. ‘That means I must be...ah, yes, got it. Hello, I’m Briel.’

  The hand pumped Ben’s.

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ replied Ben.

  ‘Right then Ben, you’d better take me to the rest of your group. They should have recovered by now.’

  And with that, Briel marched off back along the edge of the gorge.

  Ben sat where he was, stunned both physically and mentally. A few moments later, Briel trotted back.

  ‘Wrong way,’ he panted.

  Ben, with a smile forming, followed Briel, leaving sufficient distance between them to avoid any further collisions.

  The rest of the group were busy talking amongst themselves as Briel marched straight up to them.

  ‘Right you lot. On your feet and look sharp.’

  The group responded automatically to Briel’s command, and then stood around wondering what they were doing.

  Briel rummaged inside his many pockets, pulled out a pair of glasses and began polishing them.

  ‘Just in case you were wondering what you were doing here, I’d better tell you.’ Briel pointed towards the gorge with his glasses. ‘Look over there.’

  Briel placed the glasses on his nose and peered into the gorge.

  Deep below a dense mist swirled within the depths of the gorge. The rest of the group carefully followed Briel’s example and immediately jumped back clutching their noses.

  ‘Phew, what is that awful stink?’ At least that’s what Briel thought Trep said, but it was rather difficult to understand someone talking with their nose pinched between two fingers.

  Briel adjusted his glasses and took a deep breath.

  ‘That is an aroma formed over centuries. You can smell history you know’

  The group took a further couple of steps away from the gorge, the sight and smell thought Ben, was very much up-to-date.

  ‘That,’ gestured Briel, ‘is the next part of your journey.’

  The group took a cautious step forward, craned their necks to peer into the gorge and immediately backed away again.

  ‘Not down you dew drops,’ tutted Briel impatiently. ‘Across,’ he emphasised with a vigorous wave of his glasses.

  Cupping his hands to his mouth, he made a series o
f sighing noises. The group looked at each other, baffled by the antics of the original madman of the forest.

  Suddenly, the swirling mist began to rise up the sides of the gorge. Slowly, a fraction at a time, it crept towards the waiting figures.

  Eventually, the mist stretched out in front of them like a giant carpet. Briel stood to one side and waved his hands towards the mist.

  ‘This way please, who’s first?’

  Nobody moved.

  ‘A wise choice,’ grinned Briel. ‘Never trust a stranger.’ And without another word, Briel ran straight over the edge of the gorge and disappeared in the swirling mists. A few moments later, he came trotting out of the mist and stood once again at the edge of the gorge.

  ‘See,’ he said between snatches of breath. ‘Nothing to it if you just keep moving and don’t look down.’ He grinned at Ben. ‘Why don’t you lead the way?’

  ‘Hang on a minute, Ben,’ said Noj, raising his eyebrows. He edged towards the gorge and nodded towards the chasm ‘Easier said than done,’ he remarked. ‘Besides, isn’t it about time we knew a little more about what’s expected of us before we go cloud surfing?’

  Briel closed his eyes for a moment. As if reaching a decision, he looked around and then gestured the boys to move closer.

  ‘Trust me,’ whispered Briel, nodding sagely.

  ‘I think we might like a little more explanation than that,’ said Ben, looking at the others for confirmation. ‘I think we’ve exhausted the ‘trust me’, and possibly want a little more of the ‘tell me’, now.’

  Briel smiled and indicated the gorge with a discreet inclination of his head. ‘What you see isn’t quite what you think you see, if you see my meaning.’ Looking at the collection of vacant expressions, he gave a slight tut! ‘What you need to understand,’ he said slowly and firmly, ‘is that the best way forward doesn’t always look like the best way forward.’

  The still vacant expressions began to irritate Briel. ‘Look,’ he said sternly pointing at the mist. ‘It doesn’t look the best way because it is not supposed to look the best way, that would be far too easy.’

  Ben frowned. He looked at the others who appeared equally puzzled. ‘A sort of bluff?’ he asked.

  Briel clapped his hands together. ‘Well done that man,’ he laughed. ‘Do geography at school do you?’

  Ben began to nod uncertainly. ‘Er, yes,’ he replied.

  ‘You’re correct on both counts,’ said Briel. He fiddled with his glasses and then smiled at Ben. ‘It’s both a steep cliff and a deliberate deception, clever lad.’

  Ben, not at all sure what he was being clever about just gave a shrug. ‘Thanks,’ he grinned.

  Rubbing his hands together, Briel gestured at the gorge. ‘To the untutored eye, to step out into a gorge filled with mist isn’t the most appropriate action to take and so,’ he smiled broadly, ‘most folk would shake their head and walk along the gorge until they found a convenient way across. Yes?’

  Four heads nodded in agreement.

  ‘Thus wasting many hours and, if you’re lucky might even prove to large an obstacle and encourage your pursuer to go home.’

  ‘With any luck,’ mumbled Trep.

  ‘Precisely. Now, for those better informed and with a nose for adventure,’ Briel prodded Ben on the chest. ‘A walk across the gorge supported by the dense mist would be a wise choice.’

  Noj, apparently, happy with Briel’s explanation, had edged closer to the edge of the gorge and now stretched a foot out into the mist. After drawing a series of irregular circles in the mist, Noj slowly lowered his foot down into the mist. When it would go no lower, he slid his other foot along until both feet had disappeared beneath the mist.

  Briel nodded.

  ‘Well done, that man. Right, Trep. Mak, fancy taking a turn?’

  By now, the mist had crept over the edge of the gorge and was beginning to encircle them, with several threads of mist spiralling above their heads.

  Nervously, Trep poked his foot into the mist. Feeling reassured that the mist felt firm under his foot and that Noj hadn’t disappeared from sight, he moved slowly forward until he stood next to Noj. He grinned.

  ‘Come on, Mak,’ he called. ‘It’s not as bad as you think.’

  ‘You don’t know how bad I think it is,’ growled Mak. With a cursory glance towards Briel, Mak stepped into the mist and began moving slowly forward with Trep and Noj.

  ‘Now, Ben,’ smiled Briel. ‘You want some questions answered and I’ve got answers for questions you haven’t thought of yet.’

  ‘But I…’ began Ben.

  ‘But nothing,’ replied Briel sharply. ‘Since when did having all the answers make anything right?’

  Briel placed two fingers under Ben’s chin and closed his mouth just as it opened to form a response.

  ‘I’ve told you before about the dangers of leaving that open. Now,’ began Briel. ‘Some things are never quite what…’

  Whatever Briel said next was lost as a series of ear-splitting explosions filled the air. Looking across the gorge, to where the other three were still making their way through the mist, they saw several flashes of light accompanied by explosions.

  ‘Whispers!’ exclaimed Briel angrily. ‘They must have slid along the edge of the gorge without our noticing them.’ He turned to Ben. ‘Run,’ he shouted pointing to where the explosive flashes of light were tearing into the mist. ‘Run and join the others.’

  Ben stood rooted to the spot. His eyes darted between Briel and the flashes of light in the mist.

  ‘Do as you’re told for once,’ yelled Briel, shaking his head in annoyance. ‘Go!’

  He emphasised the last word by giving Ben a hard push in the back, sending him headlong into the gorge.

  Hurriedly searching through his pockets, Briel finally found what he was looking for and immediately stuck it in the ground. Standing back, he admired the small, child’s stick windmill with blue, striped plastic sails with a curious looking blue flower at the centre. Carefully, Briel angled the windmill towards the noisy flashes emanating form the mist and, filling his lungs, he blew out his cheeks causing the tiny sails on the windmill to spin.

  For a few moments nothing seemed to be happening apart from the sails now appearing as a blue blur. Almost imperceptibly, the mist began to skip in different directions. At first, flurries of mist formed tiny waves that scurried away from where the boys were battling with the Whispers. Within seconds huge crests of waves rolled over each other and started to swirl and spin with terrifying power.

  Briel looked on with satisfaction as the roaring waves of mist swept over the gorge and tore into the Whispers. The force of the waves ripped the Whispers into grey filaments and hurled them away towards the far ends of the gorge.

  Running through the mist, Ben felt sharp, tearing threads of grey snatching at his body as, with a final effort, he flung himself at the defensive cluster of Noj, Trep and Mak. With the tips of their walking sticks glowing white hot as they released another volley of fierce, blue light flashes at the searching grey fingers of the Whispers, they barely registered the arrival of Ben.

  ‘Glad you could make it,’ yelled Noj, his eyes searching the mist.

  ‘No problem,’ replied Ben breathlessly.

  Suddenly, the mist swirled violently around them, buffeting their bodies and stinging their eyes. An ear-splitting shriek pained their senses as the grey filaments of the Whispers were wrenched apart, dragged into minute particles and dispersed by the mist.

  Before anyone could mutter a word, Briel appeared, his eyes sparkling as he toyed with the tiny plastic windmill that protruded from his coat pocket.

  ‘OK then, lads,’ he said with a smile. ‘We’d best be moving forward before…’

  Briel flung himself to the floor and made a quick grab into the mist as Ben began to slither downwards into the gorge. ‘Steady on!’ he shouted, holding Ben around the neck and pulling him back into the group. ‘Just a moment,’ he chided as Ben gulped for
air. ‘We want to go across not down.’ Ignoring Ben’s stuttering lips, Briel took a pebble from one of his pockets and dropped it immediately in front of them. Obeying the known laws of gravity, the pebble tumbled down, quickly becoming engulfed by the remaining mist in the depths of the gorge.

  ‘But I thought you said,’ began Trep.

  ‘I know what I said,’ snapped Briel. ‘But I can’t be held accountable for the troublesome interference of Whispers or anything else for that matter.’ Holding his finger to his lips, Briel extracted a much larger pebble from another of his many pockets and, with a couple of taps of his finger, he dropped the pebble at their feet. Immediately, the pebble began to noisily replicate itself until a series of steps stretched out before them. Briel smiled, and indicated the steps with a sweeping gesture of his arm.

  ‘If you’d all be so kind as to walk this way,’ he said with a polite bow.

  Ignoring any comments from the rest of the group, Ben strode forward, his feet making a gentle ‘slapping’ sound as he padded across the rest of the gorge.

  ‘Oh, what the heck,’ muttered Trep as he too walked across the newly formed pebble pathway. With a shrug of their shoulders, Noj and Mak followed the other two until they all stood on the other side of the gorge looking back to where the mist had began to fill the open void once again.

  ‘Interesting,’ said Ben, as much to himself as anyone else.

  ‘Where’s that Briel guy?’ asked Mak looking into the rapidly rising mist.

  ‘Boo!’ yelled a voice immediately behind them.

  Four bodies almost stumbled into the misty gorge.

  ‘What the...’ began Mak angrily, as he clung to Noj for support. ‘You were…’

  ‘That’s got to be,’ spluttered Trep edging away from the gorge, ‘one of most stupid tricks…’

  Briel wagged his finger. ‘Ah, ah,’ he grinned. ‘It wasn’t a trick at all.’

  ‘Whatever it was,’ replied Noj. ‘It wasn’t the most suitable action under the circumstances.’