Pete McGee and the Master of Darkness

by Adam Wallace

  ‘Smithers,’ he said, ‘do you reckon there’s more to being a knight than what they’re teaching us?’

  Smithers rolled his eyes. Pete was always on about this.

  ‘Of course there is,’ Smithers replied. ‘There’s applying the things we’ve learnt out in the field of battle. There’s being knighted and parades and lots of mighty feasts with the King.’

  ‘Yeah, true, but it just feels as though they’re holding us back. They have one way of doing things and won’t change it for anyone, even if it doesn’t suit us.

  ’Smithers pondered this for a minute and then shook his head.

  ‘That’s just the way it is, Pete. The system’s been developed over hundreds of years, and it has produced great knights. It works.’

  ‘I suppose so. I guess, for me, the time for going off on random adventures is over. Maybe it’ll be good for me to fight for someone else’s cause, with hundreds of other knights around me, even if they are pretty average ones like yourself.’

  Smithers laughed and punched Pete on the shoulder, knowing the insult was a joke. He knew Pete longed to go on more adventures, but he didn’t say anything about that.

  ‘Watch yourself, McGee, or you’ll feel the wrath of this so-called average knight. Now let’s go and get your friends and head on back.’

  ‘Fine. But I still reckon there might be something more to being a knight.’

  Smithers nodded.

  ‘I know, I know. Anyway, let’s keep moving. It’ll be dark soon, and I don’t want to be anywhere near those plains when night falls.’

  Pete agreed with that, and so the two friends mounted their horses and were on their way once more.

  Pete and Smithers arrived in Bandragon at first light the next morning. They had ridden hard, and were dusty and sweaty when they approached the edge of town. Pete would rather have been all clean and shiny to see Tahnee again, but dusty and sweaty it would have to be.

  The two rode down the main street. It had been a year since zombie knights had attacked the town and repairs were still being carried out. Pete was struck by how the people of Bandragon worked with nature rather than destroying it. It was amazing. The colours in Bandragon seemed brighter, the people chatting in small groups seemed happier, and Pete’s spirits lifted just being back amongst it all.

  He glanced over at Smithers, who was beaming as he looked around. That’s what Bandragon did to you.

  ‘SWEET!’ came a cry, and Pete felt someone or something land on his horse behind him. Lightning cried out and reared up on two legs. Pete was ready to swing around but his arm was pinned.

  ‘Have to be spaghetti than that, Sweet,’ came a familiar voice, speaking in riddles. Pete laughed. Spaghetti = pasta = faster. It was Molloy and his rhyming slang. Pete twisted around, using moves he had learnt while wrestling with Smithers. He flipped Molloy off the horse, leapt off, and was now standing above him.

  ‘And you,’ he said, dagger drawn and held at Molloy’s throat, ‘will have to be, ummmm, micker than that.’

  As soon as he said it, Pete knew it was a shocking attempt. Micker? That wasn’t even a word. He decided to leave the rhyming slang to his great friend. He sheathed his dagger and held out his hand. Molloy took it and stood, before giving Pete a bear hug.

  ‘Good to see ya, Sweet,’ he said. ‘Tahnee and Dad are around somewhere. Let’s get ’em.’

  Pete nodded. He looked at Smithers, who had dismounted.

  ‘You know Larson Smithers, right?’

  ‘Sure,’ Molloy grumbled. Even though Pete had told him over and over in his letters that Smithers had changed, Molloy could still only see the mean-spirited boy who had dobbed Pete in to the King a year previously. Smithers smiled and held out his hand for Molloy to take it. Molloy did so, gripping it as hard as he could.

  Pete rolled his eyes. He had, as already mentioned, tried to convince Molloy that Smithers had changed, but it seemed it had been for nothing.

  Molloy held on tight, and Smithers wasn’t backing down either.

  ‘NICE … TO … SEE YOU,’ Molloy said through gritted teeth.

  ‘GOOD … TO … SEE … YOU … TOO,’ Smithers answered, straining as he tried to hold Molloy’s grip without showing any pain. Both boys had been training hard and were strong and fit. This meant the handshake-arm-wrestle test-of-strength was basically a stalemate. Pete decided to cut it off before he fell asleep.

  ‘Alright,’ he said, karate chopping the hands.

  They came apart (as in Smithers and Molloy let go, not in that Pete had such a powerful karate chop he could smash hands to pieces … although that would be really cool). Molloy glared at Smithers, who simply smiled back. Molloy growled, which was just plain weird, but it made Pete laugh.

  ‘You’re such a crack-up, Molloy. Now come on, where are your dad and Tahnee? We have to get back. Mum still wants me to help with some things for the wedding.’

  Molloy, as he often did, quickly got excited that something new was happening and forgot all about what had just happened with Smithers.

  ‘True to the smelly poo,’ he said (for those of you wondering what that could possibly mean, smelly poo = turd = word in rhyming slang. And yes, I just said turd in a book. I’ll be back soon, I just have to cross Say turd in a book off my bucket-list).

  ‘Come on,’ Molloy continued, putting his arm around Pete’s shoulder and ignoring Smithers. ‘Tahnee’s been hanging to see you, and Dad’s, well, Dad. He can’t come to the wedding though, Sweet. That’s the tassel (hassle) of being a town leader. He has damn meetings all the time.’

  Pete smiled and looked back at Smithers, who waved him off with a don’t-worry-about-it gesture. Pete nodded and the three went off to find Molloy’s sister, Tahnee.

  Chapter Five

  Everything seems perfect … uh oh!

  By the time the evil finally arrived, Syra had already drunk all the orange juice and was sitting at the kitchen table, impatiently drumming his fingers.

  ‘Well, well, Big Blobby Blob; decided to make an appearance, did you?’

  The blob didn’t reply. It simply slid up to the table and started gorging itself on the maggots. Syra looked away. He thought the entire scene was disgusting, repulsive, horrible. The evil blob, however, seemed to be enjoying what it thought was the tastiest meal in the history of meals. Syra rolled his eyes and rested his chin on his hands. He realised that having a sidekick, although perhaps necessary, wasn’t going to be as easy as he had thought.

  ‘Are you done, Stinky Face?’ he asked. He had decided not to show the evil any respect, so it would know that he was boss. He had come up with some degrading names to put the blob down, and was prepared to use them at any opportunity. Big Blobby Blob and Stinky Face were his first two. He was building up to the big one. The blob burped in reply to Syra’s question and slid over to sit in front of the couch, looking like a beanbag. Syra thought there might be a good use for this blob after all: if he added a cushion, maybe a nice cover and … no. Wait. He had business to attend to. First, introduce himself and then use the nastiest name he had.

  ‘My name is Syra Tanooth, Master of Darkness. Welcome to my home. I have grand plans for us to unite and cause death and destruction the world over. Does the thought of this interest you, Big Blobby Blob Stinky Face?’

  Yep. The grand insult Syra Tanooth had come up with, and it did take him a couple of hours, was simply putting the other two names together. Hey. Give him a break, people. He’s a Master of Darkness; he can’t be good at everything. Anyway, after he said the name, the blob burst into tears. It even shifted into the shape of a teardrop. Syra smiled.

  ‘Aha! My evil words have made you cry, you sooky baby. Were they too evil for you?’

  ‘No,’ the blob sobbed. It turned out he had a rather posh English accent. He continued to speak, between the tears. ‘You see, old chap, that name is what my dear mother, Mumsy I call her, that is what she called me when I was a baby. It was her pet name for me.’

  ‘
Big Blobby Blob Stinky Face?’

  ‘Yes,’ he blubbered. ‘Well, actually, by gum, she would call me her little Blobby Blob Stinky Face Bob.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’

  ‘Well, that is just astounding. It is a little different to the name I used, but I must acknowledge your mother’s style and genius. Now, it is time we got to work. Dry those tears, my evil sidekick, there is evil to be done. Would you like a tissue?’

  ‘No, it’s okay. I can just use one of my blobby folds of skin.’

  ‘Oh, that is disgusting. Really, it is, and I am not disgusted easily. Oh no, now you’re blowing your nose on yourself. Come on now. Oh, that is quite a glob of green snot. I am impressed and repulsed at the same time. But okay, now you are eating it. Right. Time for me to go and see how my mangrove swamp is doing. Bye for now.’

  And with that Syra hurried out of the room, hoping he wouldn’t have nightmares that night. The blob sniffed a couple more times then settled in to eat the last of the maggots and to watch a little bat-action on the crystal ball.

  Pete and Smithers tethered their horses at a drinking trough, and then walked through Bandragon with Molloy. A few people remembered Pete from his earlier visit, and they waved and called greetings to him; he waved back, glad to be remembered. He wished he could actually live in Bandragon.

  They kept walking and then his heart stopped before his feet did. There, helping some people train, her blond hair tied back in a ponytail, kicking everyone’s butts, was Tahnee. Pete had never seen her fight before.

  ‘Not to scabby hey, Pete?’ Molloy asked. Pete assumed scabby was rhyming slang for shabby, otherwise that was just gross. Anyway, Pete couldn’t see scabs on any of the people fighting, apart from one guy who had a scraped knee. He just nodded dumbly in response to Molloy’s question, unable to stop watching Tahnee. Molloy continued talking as they walked towards the fighters.

  ‘Yeah, after you were queer ( here) last time, Tahnee decided that she wanted to learn how to defend herself. Just in case, you know, she ever went on a quest too.’

  Pete smiled. That was kind of cool. He saw Tahnee finish-off the last of the people she was training with, and then she spun around and saw him.

  ‘PETE!’ she cried out, before running over to crush him in a big hug. Pete hugged her back with his arm. This was one of the rare times he really wished he had two arms. They pulled away and smiled at each other. Pete looked from Tahnee to Molloy and back to Tahnee. They were all together again, and were about to go and see Ashlyn and Marloynne be married. Could anything possibly go wrong?

  Okay. Let’s stop things right there. For any of you who have ever seen movies or read books where someone thinks or says that everything is perfect and nothing could possibly go wrong, you all know that’s the cue for a massive disaster.

  Well maybe that won’t happen this time. Hey? Think you’re so smart? Maybe this time nothing will actually go wrong and it will all end perfectly.

  See? Not always right are you Mister or Master or Mrs or Miss or Ms or Madam Smartypants. You’re so like, ‘Ooh, look at me, I’m so smart. I can tell what’s going to happen just by reading one line.’

  Okay, so you actually are right. There is going to be a disaster but that’s not the point. Stop guessing what’s going to happen and let’s get on with the story before I say something I regret, like flibbertigibbet. Man, I hate that word.

  Chapter Six

  Let the games begin

  Syra Tanooth spent a lot of time with the evil blob. He gathered a number of things. One was a bunch of flowers for the table. They looked lovely. Another was that the blob’s name was actually Bob. At first Syra thought it had said its name was ‘Blob’, but it had really said ‘Bob’. Bob the Blob. So, thought Syra, I have an evil sidekick named Bob. Not the evilest name going around, but it will have to do.

  He also learnt that Bob’s posh accent was rather endearing, and that it might be conveniently misleading. Surely no one who sounded posh and English could be evil? Finally though, Syra realised that Bob was not quite pure evil. When he questioned Bob about this, he discovered Bob’s mum had spread a few rumours to make her son seem more evil than he was, so the other blobs wouldn’t pick on him.

  At the same time, Bob also learnt a few things. One was that he was glad to be out of that awful little cave he had been trapped in for so long. Two was that he was unsure if Syra was a genius or a total idiot. Three was that he hadn’t eaten maggots before, but they were extremely tasty. Four was that Syra’s accent seemed put-on, as if he were trying to sound more evil. And finally, he had discovered that Syra really did look dapper in a cape. Bob grinned. They would create some havoc together these two, and he would enjoy having Syra as a sidekick.

  Pete McGee and Larson Smithers stood in front of Mortone, town leader of Bandragon and father of Molloy and Tahnee. Pete held out a carefully wrapped cloth package to him.

  ‘The Wilderene Flower,’ he said. ‘Bandragon has always been my place of choice for it. Your healers will gain most from its powers.’

  Mortone took the package with a slight bow (that’s as in he bowed, not as in there was a bow on the package. It was more of a ribbon).

  ‘Thank you, Sir Pete McGee. I have heard the tale of how you gained a second flower. I had no doubts as to your bravery and heart. Even so, I am impressed. Tahnee has also heard the tales.’

  Mortone finished his sentence with a wink at Pete, who blushed. Tahnee groaned. Her dad, as usual, had managed to embarrass her in front of Pete.

  ‘And now,’ Mortone continued in his booming voice, ‘it is time for us to part ways once again. I know a grand wedding awaits you all, and as much as I wish I could attend, I have matters here that cannot be avoided. Go and have fun. I look forward to hearing of the events upon your return.’

  With that he hugged Tahnee and Molloy and shook Pete’s hand. He also shook Smithers’ hand. Smithers was shocked at the size and power of Mortone’s grip. He thought this was a good man to have as an ally.

  The four travellers mounted their horses and, with a final wave, they were off. Mortone watched them go. He had wanted to join them, but he knew that he had to let his children stand on their own at some stage. Also, there were pressing matters at hand. Rumours were surfacing. Whispers. Tales of an evil long forgotten having risen once more. Mortone only hoped he would be able to prove the whispers false.

  Pete McGee, Larson Smithers, Molloy and Tahnee rode their horses at a slow trot. They had plenty of time before they needed to be back for the wedding preparations, and they had a lot to catch up on. Since Pete had met Molloy and Tahnee on his first incredible journey all those years ago, they had kept in contact via letter writing. This, however, was their first real catch-up in nearly three years, and they were making the most of it.

  Smithers felt a little left out. He had become really close friends with Pete, and now Molloy had stepped in and taken over as Pete’s best friend. That was tricky. Still, Pete made every attempt to include Smithers in all the conversations, and would fill him in on any in-jokes. That made Smithers feel better. He still felt a little jealous of Molloy though.

  Pete, on the other hand, was in heaven.

  Tahnee was also over the moon. Ever since she had first met Pete she had known there was something special about him. He had been pretty cute back then too. Now that he was getting older, and with all the training and work he had been doing, he had become muscly and tanned and … she shook her head to clear it. This was not a distraction she needed. She had to stay focused.

  What the …? What the …? Yes, I am doubly shocked. Not sure what all that was about. Tahnee not wanting to be distracted, having to stay focused … what is she, a double agent or something? This is strangely weird. I am going to have to keep an eye on her.

  Syra Tanooth filled Bob in on his evil plans. He told Bob how Pete McGee would be a worthy foe for the new evil duo. Now they were ready to approach this McGee, to find out how great he was. Sy
ra fired up the crystal ball, putting it on widescreen so that the legendary Pete McGee could fit all his muscles into the picture.

  The crystal ball blurred and fuzzed. Syra whacked it on the top. The picture cleared to show four children riding their horses, laughing wildly at one of them pretending to be a monkey. Who were these people? Syra whacked the crystal ball again, wondering if it was time to trade it in for a newer ball. But when the picture cleared, it was the same four children. Well, Syra thought they were children. He didn’t have a lot of experience with anyone under about 100 years old, and he wasn’t good at guessing ages either. He zoomed in and saw that they were a little older than he had first thought, but none of them matched the description of Pete McGee that he had heard.

  ‘Pete, what were you thinking?’ cried out one of the children, the female one. Syra’s ears perked up. No, surely not. He suddenly had a thought, one he should have had much earlier. He waved his hands over the crystal ball and muttered a few magic words. The image in the crystal ball faded and swirled, to be replaced by an image of Pete McGee facing Dazene at the Great Oak. Syra Tanooth watched in amazement as the boy defeated the beast and retrieved the flower. Seriously? A boy? Where were the muscles on the muscles? Where was the mighty sword no man could lift? This was a little one-armed boy. He would be no challenge at all.

  Syra sighed. Still, maybe the boy would be a good starting point. He would be good practise for when they took on a real warrior, a real hero. They could get rid of this boy and his friends while working on their evil teamwork and evil techniques and evil sayings, and then they could move onto the real stuff.

  Yes, that’s what they would do.

  He flicked a finger at the crystal ball and the present day Pete came back into view. Syra watched him for a while and then flicked another finger. It was time for an introduction.