The Chronicles of Widget (Phoenix Rising)

by Angela Timms

  To its owners it is a place they can enjoy an evening with their friends and occasionally have a nice meal. Being so remote it does give the opportunity of a quiet evening out. To us it is home although we seem to spend more time in their house these days. To the android band it is home but they are machines and not a lot of fun. They may look like dolls but that is just how they were built. Two of them are not, they are elf like creatures who happen to enjoy pretending to be part of the band.

  Kevin who helps out sometimes made them a stage. The speakers are up there and it would actually be nice to get hold of some instruments for them. When we can get certain things fixed on the machine we will go off and get them some. For now they stand there and the sound in the TAVERN is played by them from an MP3 player attached in the back of the bar area.

  Doing anything at the moment is problematic. We have had our control box stolen, yes stolen. Nasty rotten scoundrels took away the Orisk Box.

  The box is the controls for the machine. It had to be remade using Earth based bits and pieces so it did look a little strange. We still had crystals then. We don’t now. It was a plastic box on wheels with component parts made from old broken circuitry and motherboards from computers. There were plenty of switches and levers. The original controls got broken thanks to Gadget dropping a cup of what you call coffee and frying the original circuitry in the place. We were lucky because Kevin who helps us out sometimes knows technology and with a bit of influence from us and manipulating the story they were all writing together we managed to get what we needed built from the bits and pieces that were around with the help of Nemesis who gave us the schematics and made sure that Kevin found them on the internet. He never found them again, strange that.

  Angel didn’t have many computer pieces so we had to get them from somewhere. Thankfully in Aberystwyth, the nearest town, there is a shop called Craft. It is apparently an intriguing place where people bring things they no longer need. These things are then sold to the public by this not for profit organization, thus recycling them. It is amazing what you can find and they are a helpful bunch as well. They were really helpful when Angel told them she was building a space ship for a murder mystery and gave her lots of old broken circuitry. They must have thought she was mad but for our sake she was prepared to brave that to get what we wanted. That was the start of it and then we put the idea into Kevin’s head and sort of tinkered with his brain a bit so what he was building as a prop also worked for us to get around a bit.

  That is the odd thing you see. It looked like a box full of circuitry put together. So when Kevin took it back to his house to keep it safe and work on it while Angel was over at her mother’s place it was kept in his garage.

  Poor Kevin, it was a sad time for him. He had got a job and was doing really well. He had a home at last and his life was coming together. Then he lost his job and had to move so all his things were stored in the garage. It is odd how bad things tend to come in bundles and wicked people influenced by Goblians must have noticed his visiting the garage and realized that he had his things in there. So, the garage was broken into and the box was stolen. This is devastating to us but the box is pointless to anyone else. I expect it has been broken down to component parts by now. But we would love to find the bludgers and show them a bit of how we feel about it.

  I wonder sometimes if I have parents and what happened to them. I must have. I was lost you see. I hatched from an egg in the Time Inn Tavern as my new friends called it. Gadget did too. We are hatched from eggs and these were in the maintenance box for hatching when we were needed.

  Others have to travel from our world and dimension to this. We were taken from our world before we hatched so we hatched here. That is why we didn’t need the Toymaker to link us with the puppets we now use to get around in. Frixians built the Tavern and as we have a hive mind, a shared mind, when it comes to technology we were useful. I can’t imagine someone leaving their children in a pub but I suppose it happens. Then it wasn’t a pub then.

  2 I have already mentioned the two elf like creatures who are part of the band. This is the story of what happened to one of them and why he is here with us. This is Wizel’s story and the dream I had about him.

  Wizel looked around the cave. He was alone. Or he thought he was. He didn’t see Rak above him lurking in the shadows. Rak’s long sinuous fingers wrapped around the rocks which allowed him to cling precariously to a nearly flat wall and stare down at the bald headed imp with the long pointed nose and long rheumy fingers. They were knotted like old sticks and as he tried to tie up a parcel with brown string he made little grunting noises as the paper and string slipped away from him.

  Rak thought about helping but that would mean Wizel would find out he was there and he didn’t want that to happen. Wizel had something he wanted and once he was gone from the room Rak would climb down and get it. He’d already looked around the room at the eclectic mix of old furniture and fascinating objects. He had no idea what they were but they were either valuable or useful, he couldn’t decide which. It wouldn’t matter, he’d find a use for them once the old one went to bed.

  Time passed and Rak’s fingers began to ache and he felt slightly dizzy. He could hear Wizel humming but there was something more in the sound, words. He realized too late that Wizel was casting a spell and as he fell to the ground with a thump his dulling mind thought “Oh blast”. That was as much as he could manage before it all went dark.

  Wizel looked down at the Raksasi. It was medium sized, black and scaly, frozen in a hideous pose with its fingers still gripping empty air where the rocks had been before Wizel had removed them magically from its grip.

  Its skin was leathery where it wasn’t scaly, black, its wings folded under a thick carapace like a bug’s wing. Useless now as it lay there frozen, unseeing eyes still open, mouth open in its last comment before it had slid into a forced unconsciousness.

  Wizel looked down at it and poked it with his pointy boot. “Are you dead? No you can’t be dead, didn’t use that spell. Ok you are unconscious. Are you unconscious?”

  Rak didn’t answer. Wizel looked down again and went to the fire and found the poker on the rack and gave the Raksasi a firm poke in what he estimated was the ribs if they had ribs. Nothing happened.

  Wizel took out a gnarled old wand from the long thin leather pouch he kept it in and waved it above the prone creature and whispered secret ancient words. He pulled a misty stream from the creature’s head which became solid and hung in the air, a sheet of mist with words forming on it.

  Wizel grunted. “So you want to steal from me do you? Well you will not. You will now go and never return. In fact you will never remember you were here and you will not remember what you wanted.” He waved his wand and the creature disappeared with a slight popping noise and the smell of violets. Wizel smiled, he liked the violet smell, it was his own personal addition to his magic.

  He rubbed his pointy chin with his gnarly fingers. “Darn it, the Red Queen won’t like this. Raksasi in the Queendom. That is bad, that is really bad. Something bad is going on. And I’m far too old to be a hero and I bet I get mixed up in this. I bet the Queen will have something to say about all this. Perhaps one last adventure for me before I completely retire. Although I’m supposed to be retired.” He spoke to the empty air.

  He looked along his bookcase which was stuffed full of tatty paperback novels he had stolen from Earth on his visits. “Well is this how a great adventure starts? Well at least I didn’t have my village burnt, my family murdered and a huge chip placed firmly on my muscly shoulders.” He fluffed himself up and looked at the mirror at the weedy reflection that shattered his illusion of a great adventurer. “Oh well, never mind. I will have to do.”

  He went to a big dark wood chest and pulled open the bottom drawer. He reached inside and pulled out a flat black disc with a red label and a hole in the middle. “I still have it. Silly creature failed. I still hold it in my hands and now I have remembered it. I don’t know how
I forgot it. It was so important wasn’t it? I must be getting very, very old.

  Wizel looked down at the 78” Record and smiled to himself. “I still have it.”

  There was a crack of thunder and a flash of white light and Wizel and the record disappeared.

  3 The Red Queen sat on her ebony throne. Her long dark burgundy curls cascaded down over her blood red velvet dress as she looked up when Wizel appeared on the thick red carpet in front of her in her gold embellished throne room.

  She almost smiled as Wizel found his feet, saw her and then fell over backwards as he realized where he was. A small white rabbit, wearing a red velvet livery with the Queen’s flaming unicorn on it, grabbed a bowl which held floating candles and threw the contents over Wizel who was just coming around anyway without the rabbit’s help. Wizel jumped up with a squeal and glared at the unfortunate creature who cowered muttering. “Don’t turn me into anything else. I was just trying to help.”

  Wizel stood up, the water dripping from his pointed nose and was about to speak but the Red Queen cut him off. “Wizel, you have brought it to us? I thank you. You have served us well. You will be rewarded. Now you must do what must be done. Like I told you all those years ago when you first brought it back. That is old magic, the magic of dreams bound into a black disc like the humans use. The music has power, the song chosen to wake the dreaming one. She must return to their world. Take it and play it on their music box and make her wake up. It is time.”

  Wizel bowed his head and he could feel his knees knocking together. He wasn’t sure if it was the chill of the water which was running down his back and neck or pure terror at standing in front of the most scary woman he had ever met. Or perhaps the thought of crossing the realms and entering the “World of Men”. He decided it was the Queen mostly and tried to find his courage to look up again.

  The Red Queen cleared her throat. “We will be expecting you to do your duty again now. You must take the black magic disc to the land of men and restore magic to their world.”

  Wizel spoke without thinking and immediately bit his tongue. “Why?” In his mind they were mortals and their world without magic was their world. It took a mere moment for all the thoughts of the old times where elves and pixies played in the ancient woodlands to flood though his tiny head. It took moment before a dark shadow arrived to come over his mind as he saw the mechanized glass and stone world where magic was for stories and the old fears were buried. What space did mankind have for old fears of strange creatures in the horrors of the man created warlike world? Where would the mystic creatures fit in amongst a world where everything had to be scientifically explained. Where did faith fit where people had to know, which took out the element of the wondrous and infinite.

  The Queen smiled to herself and drew herself up to her full height on the throne. “Would you dare to question me? You will do as you are told.”

  Wizel bowed several times as low as he could and nearly fell over. Over and over again he declared. “Your wish is my command. Your wish is my command.”

  The Queen smiled a cold smile. “Yes I know.” The rabbit had backed away and was cowering behind a chair which was part of a line of very small chairs either side of the queen which where all empty. The room was empty other than the Queen, Wizel and the hapless rabbit. All Wizel could see were a pair of ears which were shaking and the bob of a tail which didn’t quite fit behind the chair. It was a very small chair, made for the Queen’s court of the fey. Who were of course tiny when they chose and huge when they wanted to be. So the chairs could do likewise. But for the sake of the many thousands of chairs which lined the throne room they were better off tiny.

  Wizel looked around the room, looking for something he could use to change the subject and then his eyes were drawn back fearfully to the wand which lay across the Queen’s lap. He knew what that wand could do and he knew she was not afraid to use it.

  Wizel shut his eyes as he saw the Red Queen raise her wand. He felt the ground shift and the softness of the carpet was replaced by a slightly deeper softness and he could smell the damp loam of a woodland. He opened his eyes, first one then the other. It was dark. Not pitch dark, it was darkly dark but illuminated by the soft twinkling of a myriad of stars which created a dome above his head. He could see them through the tree canopy as the trees were around him, not above.

  He was standing in a circle of tree stumps. He felt sad, seeing the severed spines of the trees but happy when he realized they were not stumps. They were slices of tree set out in a circle. He looked around the clearing and realized it wasn’t. A clearing that is. It was a circle of trees around the perimeter of a small garden edged on one side by a bubbling brook which tumbled down a small waterfall, slipped gurgling under a bridge made of wooden half rounds and rushed off into the darkness under the road below.

  He could hear birds singing and the sound of sheep. Somewhere a cockerel crowed and he knew he was on earth. He took a deep breath and climbed up and sat on the stump which to him was three times his height tall.

  He still held the record which was as big as he was and he swiftly slipped it into his bag with great care and the bag shrunk it to a small size so he could carry it easily. He then wondered what horrible things would happen if he did break it and then tried to forget about it.

  He looked around and in the shadows something moved. Something black and velvety and deadly. He knew what cats were. He saw her emerald eyes and sharp claws and wicked intent and knew that if she caught him it would be all over. So he took his wand and waved it and then grimaced as he felt the pain of his whole body changing dimension and size.

  He sat on the stump and watch his legs grow down to meet the rich black earth. He felt his shoulders widen and his arms grow long. He smiled as the cat gave a surprised yowl and disappeared off back into the shadows.

  He heard a voice he could understand. It was like a bleat but not. It was a fairy sound, a fey sound. It was one that he had known from the grey mists of time and a creature who had always served his kind as a loyal mount and friend. He heard a goat.

  He followed the sound, crossed the bridge and splashed his way along the path which went around the side of the house he hadn’t noticed to start with. Behind it the bank rose steeply but there was what looked like the remnants of an old set of steps so it was easier to climb the steep bank. Once up the bank he pushed his way through the undergrowth until the he came to a path. He passed a couple of wooden sheds and dived for cover as it sounded like the hounds of hell were coming to get him.

  The dogs uttered their plaintive cry, howling and barking as they sensed the otherworldly presence that they didn’t understand. Wizel for his part picked himself up, brushed the leaves off of his tattered brown wool jacket and smoothed his black wool trousers down. He swept back what was left of his wispy hair which clung to the base of his bald head and he called back.

  “Creatures of the Wolf, I am not of your realm. I will not hurt you if you will not hurt me.” He jumped as one answered back. “I am Teal of the Uterakus, Keeper of the Light. I know you for what you are and you are welcome in our lands.”

  Wizel looked surprised because he was surprised. “Great Wolf of the North, you are here? Why are you here and how are you here?”

  Teal barked his laughter. “I am the companion of the Messenger, sent by the old ones to look after her in this lonely place.” Wizel hissed. “Shapeshifter, you will not bring harm to this world?” Teal laughed. “I am tired of the politics of the races. I am here because she is here. I am here because I can. I wish no more than to be her faithful hound, to be fed on time, to have fun and to be a loyal dog. My shapeshifting days are all but over. I would not be a man again for anything. I can control the moon craving now. The question is why are you here and where are you going?”

  Wizel shifted his weight. “It is a secret.” Teal sniffed. “You carry hope in your bag.”

  Wizel jumped. “How do you know?” Teal yipped. “Fool, I am old, the world is young and w
hat you hold in your bag is old magic.”

  Wizel looked surprised. “It is only a record. An old record.” Teal snuffled at the cage bars. “The goats won’t help you, they serve the Elves in the House and they will not let you take anything from here. Nor will the mistress and master.”

  Wizel grunted. “You know too much and you assume too much. This is important, you know that.”

  Teal shook his big furry body. “Why do you need to go?”

  Wizel looked confused. “I assumed I had to do a great quest and travel many miles across dangerous terrain.” Teal laughed which ended up as half bark, half laugh. “Fool, you read too much. You need to play that record, that is all. It is an old record but I know the mistress has a player. You can get in through the cat flap as I sense your spell of largeness is running out.”

  Wizel looked at him in earnest. “So how do I get it played? It must be played.” Teal nodded his big hairy German Shepherd head. “Indeed it must. So put it in that shed there. You see the one next to this one. There is a silver metal barrel with other records. Put it on top of the others and when you are finished you must go and find the House Elves. They will help you. You will find them under the stairs in the living room. Good luck and get small.”

  4 The house was dark and quiet. Wizel had waited until the humans had gone to bed. Teal was back in the house now that the owners were back. He and the others were sleeping upstairs as he had returned to the house as he always did to guard his mistress and master. Wizel then slipped in through the cat flap when he was sure that the cat was asleep and found his way in the starlight to the living room.