“I caught up with your grandfather a great deal more quickly than I had anticipated. I had been walking along the narrow mountain path for less than half an hour when I turned the corner to find Asmodious sitting on a large rock, his head in his hands as he watched the last moments of the beautiful, purple sunset.
“On hearing my footsteps he stood up suddenly, ready to do battle with any possible attacker. On seeing it was just little old me his stance immediately relaxed however, his angry frown replaced with a smile. He asked me what I was doing there and I informed him that I had run away to join him wherever he was going and that there was nothing he could say or do that could ever convince me to return to those people who I had once considered to be my family.
“I was young, naïve and angry, of course. And, after several hours of discussion, your grandfather’s charm one out. He convinced me that, while he greatly appreciated my courageous show of solidarity, it was too dangerous where he was going for me to accompany him. He said that I was too young and too angry to make an informed decision at the moment, and promised to return to me in a month or so, when I’d had time to consider my decision, and if I still felt the same way he would whisk me away to somewhere safe where we could live out our lives together. I tried to protest, but your grandfather was so clever and so charming that before I knew what was happening I found myself walking back to the camp with him.
“As we neared the camp I vowed to myself that I would wait for Asmodious, no matter how long it took. I knew at that moment that I never wanted to spend a moment of my life with any man but him. I decided to tell him how I felt as the lights of the camp became visible in the distance. When I had finished he just looked at me as if he wanted to tell me something important but needed a moment to find the words. We stood, silent, in the moonlight, looking into each other’s eyes. It was then that we heard the screaming.
“‘Wait here,’ he ordered. ‘Hide behind that rock and don’t come out until I tell you it’s safe.’ It was the most forceful I had ever seen your grandfather and it only served to make him more attractive to me.
“But of course, being a stubborn young woman who believed she knew all there was to know about the world, I did not wait for Asmodious’s return, I merely waited for him to leave. As soon as I was certain he had done so, I followed along behind. It is a decision I have lived to regret, for the horrors I witnessed upon re-entering the camp were of the kind that can never be wiped from the memory and they have haunted my dreams ever since.
“Blood and bodies covered the ground for as far as the eye could see and, in amongst the carnage, screaming gypsies desperately fought a battle they knew they could never hope to win. A battle to stay alive. A battle against the vampires.”
“Vampires!” I exclaimed, suddenly captivated by my grandmother’s tale now that it had moved from soppy love scenes into gory violence.
“Yes, Charlie, vampires. Vampires are not so uncommon in Eastern Europe, you know – especially in the remote, mountainous areas. They hunt in packs, and they would often wipe out an entire tribe of Romany in a single attack, turning a few of the stronger ones into their own kind and feasting upon the rest.
“They had no doubt been stalking our troop for days, if not weeks, only perturbed from launching their attack earlier by the presence of such a powerful wizard. As soon as Asmodious had left the vampires had seen their opportunity, and they had taken it.”
“What did you do?” I asked eagerly. “How did you and grandpa manage to survive?”
“Well, Charlie, that was all down to your Grandfather. You see, although I had heard many speak of what a powerful wizard he was, it was not until that day that I truly understood what this meant. Such was the fear of him held by those evil, undead murderers that each and every one of them ceased in their carnage when they saw that he had returned.
“There then followed a great silence, a standoff between your grandfather and the vampires. And then Asmodious began to chant.
“I just stood their watching, utterly bemused as to why these fearsome, evil creatures had suddenly stopped their assault and were now reduced to shaking, crying, begging for their lives or simply running away. It seemed utterly bizarre. And then I noticed it. Something strange was happening. At first I thought it was just my imagination, but it seemed to me to be getting lighter. But I wasn’t imagining anything; the more your grandfather chanted, the lighter it became, until, after just a few minutes, the sun rose up from behind the horizon below which it had long since set.
“Within an instant the vampires began to catch fire. It was a terrible sight, watching them run around, screaming as they burned into little piles of dust. What made it all the more terrible was the part of me that relished in their suffering. They had hurt my family after all.”
“Was everybody okay?” I asked, desperate for the happy ending I knew was unlikely to arrive. “Except for the vampires I mean.”
“No, Charlie, they were not. Well, not at first anyway. For it was only after the vampires had been destroyed and the darkness of the night had safely been returned that your grandfather showed how powerful he truly was, for it was then that he began to heal the wounded.”
“Grandpa could heal too?”
“But of course, Charlie. Where did you think you got your own powers from?”
“I thought you said all Protectors had powers?”
“They do, Charlie, they do. But not powers like that. Well, not usually anyway. Humans cannot be trusted with the responsibility that comes from such high power. No, I fear that your power to heal is more to do with the wizard in you than the Protector.”
“So, do you think I have more powers?”
“Perhaps.”
“But why don’t I know what they are?”
“Well, you didn’t know you could heal either until recently, did you? It may be that you just don’t know how to activate them yet, or maybe you just haven’t needed them. Anyway, that’s not important right now, what’s important is that your grandfather could heal, or else even more people would have lost their lives than just the six that did so.”
“Six people died? Why didn’t grandpa save them?” I demanded, upset to have been robbed of my happy ending.
“Because he couldn’t, Charlie. He only had the power to heal the sick, not the dead. I suspect the same is true of you. He did everything he could, but for some it was already too late. It was a very sad day, perhaps the worst of my life.
“In hindsight though, without it your grandfather and I may never have been married, for it was his actions that day that lead him to finally become an accepted member of my people. From that day forward the fact that he was different no longer rendered him an outcast and instead made him a hero. Even those who remained jealous of him began to give him the respect he deserved and, over time, many of his former enemies became his greatest friends - particularly once he and I were married and he was no longer seen as a rival in the romance stakes.”
While I had enjoyed grandma’s story, I was beginning to wonder what all this had to do with The Professor and the watch, as you no doubt are too. Well, I’m pleased to say that, just as I was considering raising the issue with my grandmother, she finally came to it of her own accord.
“We lived happily together for many years, awaking each day in a new place, seeing the entire world without ever leaving our own home. It was a truly magical time. But I’m afraid all good things must one day come to an end, and our end arrived six months after I gave birth to your mother.
“The tribe had arrived at a small village on the outskirts of Romania to find it completely decimated. Houses had been burned to the ground and bodies were strewn across the streets. Unfortunately, it was not an isolated incident. While we personally had never seen such sights before, there were stories of similar things happening all over the East. Until that day though, most of us had considered them to be fables and
scare stories made up to sell local newspapers and deter travellers- who many people disliked. Your grandfather, though, had always held suspicions that there may have been some truth to the tales.
“It seemed as though no living thing could have survived such merciless brutality, but, miraculously, one had. Some of the men from the tribe had gone searching for supplies inside the abandoned, fire-damaged shops. They discovered nothing salvageable and were just about to leave when they had heard a whimpering sound coming from under the floorboards. Upon tearing them up they found a little girl, no older than you are now. She was covered in blood and dirt and skinny as a rake. She had clearly witnessed sights no child should ever have to witness and had not eaten for weeks.
“The girl was brought to the women to be cleaned up. We washed, clothed and fed her, and Asmodious healed her wounds; many of which had become infected. I doubt she would have survived much longer had we not discovered her. But while we were able to restore her appearance to something approaching normal relatively quickly, the same could not be said for her mind. For many days she did not speak at all, but merely shivered. And while I feel bad for saying such a thing, the truth is that I wish she had stayed that way.
“It was your grandfather who eventually got her to talk; nothing too taxing at first, merely her name, which was Bettina, and whether she felt well and such. It took weeks before the poor girl was able to recount what had happened to the people of her village, but one night, in front of a roaring fire, with just Asmodious, myself, and our pet cat Merlin for company, she did just that. And every day since I have wished that she hadn’t.
“You see, it’s not the gruesome details of how her family were killed in front of her that I wished I hadn’t heard (although I could happily have continued with my life without knowing of such things, and hence I will spare you such details, my child). No, it was who had been responsible for the killing that I wished she had never revealed.
“She described how the village had come under attack from all manner of strange creatures, from mischievous goblins to walking corpses. Some of the creatures she recognised from fairy tales, and scary late-night stories, others had been too horrible for her to have imagined without witnessing them firsthand. But the worst of all, she said, had been their leader.
“While not the most frightening in appearance – he had looked basically like a man, with bald head and long purple cloak, only taller and paler than a man, almost white in fact – his deeds were by far the most evil, stamping on babies and puppies as if they were bugs and ordering others to do the same.
“As little Bettina spoke the words, your grandfather and I simply looked at each other in horrified silence. But it was not the description of the terrible acts that had so shaken us, but the description of their perpetrator. It was quite clear to both of us that the leader she spoke of could only be one person – your grandfather’s former friend, Professor Balzanfjoord.”
“Grandpa knew The Professor?”
“Knew him well, I’m afraid, Charlie. You see, your grandfather and The Professor had both had the same mentor, a wizard named Peronicous. Peronicous was a powerful, stern, but righteous wizard who was quite a celebrity among his own kind. He taught The Professor and your grandfather not simply how to use their gifts most effectively, but also how to use them safely and responsibly. He was a great man who Asmodious admired very much. The Professor, or Melvin as he was known then, did not feel the same way.
“Your grandfather insisted that Melvin had never been a bad chap, but simply greatly over-confident and in possession of a very short attention span. He was always more interested in learning the next trick than he was in mastering the last. He and Peronicous were constantly at loggerheads with each other, each believing the other owed them more respect than they were being shown. Asmodious would do his best to mediate between the two of them, but eventually things came to a head and Melvin walked out before his training was complete, vowing that he would find someone else who would teach him to become a better, more powerful wizard than Peronicous could ever have hoped to be.”
“And did he?”
“Yes Charlie, I’m afraid he did,” the old gypsy said gravely. “He was taught by some of the most powerful witches and wizards in all the world. Unfortunately they also happened to be some of the most evil, and while they taught him magic very well, they taught him morality very poorly.
“Your grandfather always claimed that it was their influence which had created the incredible evil that was The Professor. He always believed that somewhere, deep down, there was still Melvin, a boy who wanted to be good but who was easily overwhelmed by the power with which he had been blessed. It was for this reason that, after Bettina had told her story, your grandfather informed me that he was leaving.
“He said Melvin had to be stopped before any more blood was spilt and that he was the only man who could do it – whether he did so by forcing him to see reason, or by destroying him. He said that nobody else knew Melvin well enough to do either.
“I begged him not to go, of course. I cried, and I screamed, and I asked him what kind of man it was that would walk into unnecessary danger, leaving behind his wife and young child? He replied that it was the sort of man who wanted there to be a safe world for that child to grow up in, and when I looked into his eyes and saw the conviction behind them I realised that there was no point in arguing any longer. His mind was made up.
“He left that very night and I have never seen him since.
“Before he went he gave me the watch I give to you now. He said it was lucky, that it would protect me. Oh, how I wish I’d made him take it with him. Maybe then...” her voice trailed off as she fought back the tears.
“Don’t cry, Grandma,” I said, handing her a tissue. “I’m sure it wouldn’t have made that much difference, if Grandpa was as powerful as you say, what good would an old watch have been to him?”
“You’re probably right, Charlie. I must admit I’ve never found it to be particularly special. Well, other than the fact that it never needs to be wound, which is good as there is no knob by which to wind it.”
“Does it take batteries then?”
“Nope. It just sort of...works. I don’t know how.”
“What about when the clocks go back?” I asked.
“It simply adjusts itself, just as it does if you take it abroad. Don’t ask me how. It just seems to in some way know what the time is.”
“Cool!” I exclaimed, a great deal more excited about my gift already. “And what about the symbols on the side, what do they mean?”
“I have no idea, Charlie, nobody does. Even your grandfather didn’t know, nor did Peronicous, who gave him the watch as a graduation present. They are a total mystery. All anybody could say is that they, like the timepiece itself, are remnants of an ancient and forgotten time, possibly even a forgotten world.”
We sat quietly for a long time after my grandmother had finished her tale, nibbling fruitcake and listening to the birdsong. It was as though there were no longer any words that could be said that would not seem trivial and, for some unspoken, illogical reason, disrespectful after hearing such a heartbreaking tale. Sometimes, in the face of great tragedy, silence is our only option.
After a time, my grandmother was able to persuade me that she had overcome her dizzy spell and repressed her heartache enough that she could be left alone. When I protested, she stated that there could be no better legacy to my grandfather than for me to carry on in his work, protecting the innocent from harm, and that it would be an insult to his memory for me to have stayed. And so, reluctantly, I left. I never did win an argument with that woman.
Chapter 9
For the second time in as many days I left my grandmother’s caravan armed with new and exciting information and headed straight for the woodland cottage of Aurelius-Octavius Jumbleberry-Jones. On this occassion however, I was determined not to divulg
e my new-found knowledge so easily.
Although I found myself warming to the flamboyant fernator, I remained unsure as to how far I could trust him. Despite the fact that he had never done anything to truly warrant my distrust, and had indeed treated me like a close friend from the moment he had met me, there was just something about him that provoked my suspicion.
Now, at this point, many of you are probably thinking there is obviously something suspicious about any grown man who lives in a forest full of monsters and seeks to befriend young children - and you would of course be quite correct in such an assertion - but my suspicions were based on more than the obvious. It was not Aurelius’s age that bothered me, nor his odd appearance, nor even his unusual choice of acquaintances – no, what made me question Aurelius’s sincerity was something deeper than any of that; it was simply a feeling - a deep-seated, unshakable feeling - that there was something the man who so loved to talk wasn’t telling me.
I pondered my concerns as Baskerville and I turned onto the narrow and winding path that lead to the circular cottage. I was debating with myself whether the best course of action under the circumstances might not be to simply ask Aurelius straight out what it was that he was hiding, or if I might perhaps be better off not letting him know of my suspicions, thereby denying him the opportunity to disperse with them through yet more intricately worded deceptions and misdirections. This internal debate was quickly cut short the second the little white cottage with its little round windows, and bright red door came into view – for the little round windows were smashed and the little red door hung open, its hinges twisted and broken beyond repair.
Aurelius and I Page 8