by Shae Hutto
“Ok,” said Amanda meekly. She looked more like a four-year-old than a high school student as she sat on the floor and tried to not pass out or be sick. Claire looked at her for a couple of seconds, trying to gauge the risk of leaving her. She decided it would be ok and left the lighthouse.
The weather was much nicer this time than the last time she went looking for Roger on Inishtrahull Island. It was a beautiful sunny day, with a refreshing wind out of the West whipping the waves into a lively dance. Claire sprinted over the uneven grass toward Roger’s small house, hoping he was home. But then, this was an abandoned island, where would he have gone? There was a moment of panic when she got to his house and he was indeed not there. It quickly passed when she heard the familiar bark of Weenie and looked toward the beach to see Roger and the Dalmatian fishing close to the surf. Or, rather, Roger was fishing on the muddy beach. Weenie was running up and down the rock-strewn strand, chasing sea gulls and smelling dead things in the grass.
Claire hurried up to Roger and when he didn’t notice her immediately, she was tempted to push him into the salty waves. She suppressed the urge. This was urgent business, after all.
“There’s a freaking dragon destroying my home town right now,” she said to Roger’s back. He started at the unexpected voice but turned his head slowly to look at Claire, a smile playing over his features.
“Is there, now?” he asked rhetorically. “Happens a lot, does it?” He snickered and turned back to his fishing.
“First time as far as I know,” she replied. “I didn’t know where else to come.”
Roger turned all the way around to look at her. “You’re serious, gingernut?” he asked Claire, his smile replaced with an expression of concern that was much more appropriate to dragon attacks. It was odd how she still noticed how nice his jet-black hair looked as it was blown by the wind and his bangs were plastered on his forehead by salt spray. Why was she concerned about Roger’s hair when Connix was probably eating the library right this second? With a mental shrug, she pushed the thought to the back of her madly racing mind and tried to concentrate on the issue of the moment.
“It attacked my school during the spelling bee. I had to steal a school bus to get away. It followed us, and we barely escaped before it started destroying the library.”
“Whoa, Claire. Stall the ball. So many questions. First. Us? Who is us?”
“Oh. ‘Manda followed me. She’s in the lighthouse.”
Roger glanced toward the lighthouse, visible on the bluff overlooking the ocean. He looked back at Claire. “Ok. The more the merrier, I suppose.” He grinned. “Is she a ride, this bird?”
“Do what?”
“Is she hot?”
“You eejit,” she said, borrowing some more of his colorful language. “How is that even worth talking about right now? Dragon! Let’s talk about the bleeding dragon!” She punched him in the arm, sort of playfully but really hoping it hurt. Apparently, it did because he stopped grinning like an idiot and rubbed his arm where she punched him.
“All right, no need to be such a lady muck, dearie. I was only twisting hay,” he said, a little sulkily. “Why do you think this dragon followed you, anyway?”
“It has to have something to do with his eye, is all I can figure,” she said thoughtfully.
“His eye? What about his eye?”
“Oh, I forgot to mention. The dragon was Connix.” Roger looked at her blankly. “The Eye of Connix, doofus. Remember the eye we took to the witch?” Realization dawned visibly on Roger’s features. He gave a low whistle.
“I had no idea that beast was alive. I mean, we had his bleeding eye, didn’t we? Who would have thought he was still above ground?”
“Yeah, me too,” said Claire.
“And how did he follow you, do you think?”
“No clue. It took him a while to track us from the maze world. Almost a full day.”
“To do what? Track us?” Roger asked, perplexed again. “What are you on about?”
“Oh, sorry. That sound we heard in the sky in the maze world, he made sounds just like it as he tried to roast the entire student body. That had to have been him we heard. He seems to be following us. Or me.”
“Jaysus.” Roger looked up into the bright blue sky, half expecting to see a dragon diving at him. “And you brought him here. Brilliant. Just grand, that.”
“He’s not here,” said Claire. She looked up at the sky, herself. “Yet,” she added. Roger groaned.
“What’s your plan?” he asked. Claire was startled. She thought it was pretty obvious that she didn’t have a plan. That’s why she was here in the first place.
“I was kinda hoping you might help me come up with one,”
“I had a feeling you were going to say something like that. Fine. I say we give him his eye back.”
“If someone stole your eye, would it make it all better if they gave it back?” she asked, looking at Roger with that cynical smirk that drove him nuts. “Besides, we don’t have his eye. And do you want to go back to the Halloween world to get it?”
“Both excellent points, I must say,” he mused. Roger stroked his chin thoughtfully. “What you said made me think a wee smidgen. If someone ganked me eye, what would I want? Revenge, girl. I would want someone to bleed for it. Ya ken it?”
“I’m sure the Halloween folks would love it if we dropped an angry dragon on them,” she said. Weenie ran up to her and licked her hand, having just noticed her arrival. She picked up a driftwood stick and threw it into the surf. Weenie looked at her like she was nuts.
“It wasn’t those berks I had in mind, love,” Roger said with an evil grin.
“Oh, you want to sic Connix on the evil Queen,” she said, nodding enthusiastically. “I guess he would follow us if we went there, but I think he would just zero in on me. Wouldn’t do us any good unless we were actually in the castle.”
“I guess we should go get into the castle, then, don’t you?”
“It wouldn’t solve our problem, though. Once he trashed the place, he would still be trying to get to me or his eye or whatever.”
“How do you think he’s following you anyway, lass?”
“Beats the heck out of me,” she replied with an exaggerated shrug. “Unless he somehow knows I was the last to use his eye. Maybe when I saw my brother in the eye, Connix saw me.”
“Makes as much sense as anything I could come up with. But that means he’ll keep coming after you until you’re dragon poop. Even if we get him to roast the Queen, he won’t know he’s had his revenge.”
“Maybe we could talk to him?”
“Or leave him a note. Oh, you were serious?” She hit him in the arm again. Instead of reacting, Roger pointed in the direction of the lighthouse. “Is that Amanda?”
Claire turned and saw Amanda weaving unsteadily down the bluff toward them, oblivious to the danger of falling over the cliff into the rocky surf.
“Oh, come one,” she said with a groan. “Let’s go save her before she falls to her death.”
CHAPTER FOUR: New Friends
“True friends stab you in the front.”
- Oscar Wilde
Amanda threw up. Again. She stood outside the door to Roger’s quaint little island hut and mostly dry heaved into the flowers and weeds by the front walk. Weenie kept her company and after a quick sniff, ignored her puddle of ick. Inside, Claire and Roger were hurriedly packing everything they could think of for another extended period of adventuring, danger and potential gunshot wounds. Like last time, they were tempted to overstock on foodstuffs and weaponry. Unlike their last escapade, their experience prevented them from indulging those particular inclinations. Practically, they focused on packing light, carrying money and spare clothes. Of course, when Claire discovered Roger still had the ugly orange beaded hand bag of holding, she packed a lot of sharp, pointy things as well and managed to fit most of the tools she had stolen through the narrow opening. Claire took a moment to admire her companion’s getup
. Cargo pants, a brown cable-knit sweater (a jumper as he called it), tough leather boots and a faded and torn beige trench coat. Roger finished his ensemble with his ridiculous sabre and belt. And of course, his sunglasses that let him see in the dark. He looked downright piratical.
Claire was missing some of the essentials from her gear. She had her book bag, but not her silver werewolf-slaying brush. She had a magic wand, the one she took off of Rupert, but not the others. She was also missing her jacket and her cargo pants. Her jeans would do, she thought. The sneakers were not going to work, though. She made a mental note to replace them with more serviceable boots as soon as possible. On the bright side, Roger had her recently purchased Elven cloak stored in his cupboard and got it for her. So, there was that.
“Am I dreaming?” Amanda stood in the doorway with a dazed look on her face. “There was a dragon, and a beach. And a nice dog.” Roger barely caught her in time as she tried to faceplant on the rug. He eased her into a chair at his rickety table. Unable to get her to stay propped up, he let her head sink to the table top. She began to snore lightly.
Claire was annoyed by Amanda’s presence, but she was unsure why. The particular piquant flavor of the emotions she was experiencing had a familiar enough taste that they were identifiable as a slowly simmering pot of good old-fashioned jealousy. What had her confused was that this made no sense to her. Unless she was so selfish that she was unwilling to share her amazing experiences with another person from her old life. Or maybe it was more personal. Amanda was a very pretty girl. Claire recognized a rival in Amanda that overmatched her in certain categories. But what was the competition for? She glanced at Roger. Ridiculous. She was sure that, eventually, some soul searching would be in order. For now, she resolved to turn the burner down on her emotional witch’s brew and get on with being Amanda’s friend.
“What do we do with this bag of uselessness?” asked Roger in exasperation.
“Give her a break, Roger,” said Claire as she put her red frizzy mop of hair in a rigidly controlled pony tail. It immediately began to work loose, displaying a bright, coppery halo around her head. “It’s a lot to absorb. Her school was attacked by a dragon today. And now she’s on the northernmost island off the coast of Ireland, something like a hundred years in the past. We’re lucky she didn’t have a stroke or something. She’ll come around.”
“If she doesn’t? What if she’s a nutter permanent like?”
“I guess we leave her here, then.” She chuckled. “I’m sure Danny could use the company.” Roger laughed with her. Weenie put his paws on the table and licked Amanda’s face. The blonde headed girl opened her eyes and sat up with a start.
“I thought it was a dream!” she exclaimed.
“She’s alert. Definite improvement,” said Claire, smugly.
“Not a dream, love,” said Roger. “And we need to rush a bit. That dodgy dragon could show up any minute. Grab a satchel and start putting any useful yoke you find in it. It’s time for the adventure of your lifetime!” He handed an old canvas knapsack to Amanda who took it and looked at it curiously. She turned and looked at Claire who was shoving an assortment of coins into her book bag.
“Can you spell ‘surreal?’” asked Amanda in a quietly musing voice. Claire spelled it correctly and Amanda laughed. “Who’s your Liam Neeson impersonator?” she asked.
“Liam who?” asked Roger. Amanda looked at him like he had two heads.
“Forgive him, ‘Manda,” said Claire. “He’s from the 80’s. He doesn’t know who Liam Neeson is. You’ll have to reference someone from way back. Jackie Gleason, maybe?”
“Oh, funny, gingernut. I’m laughing me cacks off.”
“What do you mean he’s from the 80’s? How’d he get here?”
“Here is the 1930’s, ‘Manda. On an Island in Ireland, and he got here the same way we did,” Claire said, watching Amanda for signs she might collapse again. Instead, Amanda shrugged and seemed to accept it, her apparently flexible mind bending itself to the necessary point for acceptance. With any luck, it would bend far enough to break. Her brown eyes took on a mischievous twinkle Claire was familiar with.
“We got here in some weird elevator, right?” she asked. Claire nodded the affirmative.
“Can it take us back?”
“It sure can. But we can’t go back at the moment. Or at least, I can’t go back, on account of the one-eyed dragon terrorizing the countryside. I guess you could go back if you want.” Amanda considered it for a little bit, then shook her head.
“Not on your life. This is freaking awesome.” She smiled happily. “Let’s go do some crazy stuff.”
“Fierce. Your mate is a bloody adrenaline junky,” remarked Roger dryly and handed Amanda his extendable steel rod. “From one extreme to the other. You wouldn’t happen to have any of that bear spray on you, eh?”
“No,” Amanda replied somberly but then perked up. “But I have this awesome blood red fingernail polish I’ve been dying to try out.” She dug out a bright red glass bottle from her clutch and displayed it with a huge grin.
“Is she serious, this one? Or is she taking the mickey?” asked Roger, eyeing Amanda like he would a dangerous psychopath.
“Both,” replied Claire as she opened the front door and walked outside, Weenie following close at her heels, his tail wagging happily. “Besides being a bit crazy, she knows kung fu. She might be useful,” added Claire with a wink.
“Seriously?”
“Be nice, Qui Gon,” Amanda remarked saucily, winking at Roger, “and maybe I’ll share. My polish, not the kung fu.” She waved the little bottle of fingernail polish at him, giggled and followed Claire out into the bright sunshine. Roger considered for a minute and decided he liked Amanda. He followed them out, shut the door and hurried to catch them, whistling with pleasurable anticipation of adventure.
“Who’s this Qui Gon berk you’re on about, love?” he asked when he caught up with them outside his cottage. “Handsome devil?”
“I told you he doesn’t have a clue who Liam Neeson is, ‘Manda,” chided Claire. “Liam Neeson played Qui Gon Jinn in the Star Wars prequels. And yes, he’s not bad looking.” Roger stopped walking in shock, then hurried up to them again.
“Star Wars prequels?” he asked excitedly. “They made more movies? That’s massive! Let’s go see them, first chance we get.”
“I’ll download them for you once we get the dragon sorted. You remember the dragon? Scaly. Breathes fire. Angry?”
“Download?” asked Roger perplexed. “Lemme guess. On that chancy gadget phone thing of yours?”
“Well, yeah, sure, you could do that,” replied Claire. “But I’d rather watch it on the 60-inch flat screen in my living room.”
“You’re coddin me, redser. Right?” asked Roger, unsure if they were having him on or not.
“He really is from the olden days, isn’t he?” asked Amanda.
“I think he was on the Oregon Trail,” joked Claire and laughed at her own wit. Surprisingly, Roger smiled and nodded.
“I played that game on my aunt’s Apple II GS,” he said, still nodding.
“What game?” asked Claire.
“What’s a II GS?” asked Amanda. Roger looked at them like they were insane. They opened the door to the lighthouse, on the lookout for Danny, but he must have been busy elsewhere because he was nowhere in sight. Remembering which door they came through, Amanda walked over and opened the flag locker. Even though she was expecting the hallway, it was still a shock to see the clean, minimalist hallway carpet and drab walls waiting in the flat fluorescent lighting framed by a wall in an antique lighthouse. She stared in wonder for a few seconds before Claire lost patience and shoved her gently through. Everyone else hurried after and Roger closed the door.
“All right. Where to now, Claire?” asked Roger once they were all inside the hallway. “We going to get your brother and uncle?” Claire considered.
“I think we should get my Uncle Clark,” she mused aloud.
“But I don’t want to go back to our world to get Nick and risk Connix shredding my house.” Roger shrugged. Amanda began to paint her fingernails. “Of course, if the dragon follows us to the Elven world, I don’t think Alidraal and company will be too pleased we got their forest burned down,” she added.
“This dragon is just after you, right?” asked Amanda while blowing on a freshly painted bright red fingernail.
“Yeah, he thinks she nicked his eye,” said Roger.
“Well, he’s not after me,” she added, admiring her handy work. “I could totally go get Nick for you.”
“Yeah? You’re just going to walk from the library to my house? Assuming the library isn’t a merrily burning pile of rubble and books?” snarked Claire who immediately regretted being so unpleasant.
“Good point,” conceded Amanda, not visibly offended. “I don’t suppose a cab would respond to a disaster scene, either. What about your mom. Doesn’t she work at the library? I bet she’d give me a ride.”
“Assuming my mom is alive and ok,” replied Claire, trying to put the possibility of her mom being roasted alive by Connix out of her mind. “I doubt she would be willing to let you take my brother back to the library. If he’s even at home.”
“I think we should risk it, Claire,” said Roger seriously. “Nick has a lot of valuable experience and skill in this business. We are going to need him, don’t you think?”
“Why am I always being voted down these days?” she complained sotto voce. “Fine. Roger, you go with her. Do you think you can steal a car?”
“Why do you always assume the worst of me? I’m offended, Claire.” He managed to look haughty and offended. Its effect was ridiculous. Even Amanda laughed at his antics and she didn’t even know him.
_______________________________________
The twins were getting frustrated. Despite their abilities to follow the dragon from world to world, they were having a hard time keeping up with him on foot. Their annoyance wasn’t readily evident, but there seemed to be a higher level of tension in their unspoken communication. Their silent consensus was that they needed to find faster transport. The world they found themselves in at the moment was strangely unfamiliar.