“And so the only way to find Raymondo would be to ‘ask’ some animals if they know where he lives?”
“Sounds like a good plan to me,” she replied. “Although we may have trouble convincing them to give up such important information; Raymondo’s subjects are very loyal.”
“Can you do it then? Speak to animals I mean.”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Great,” said Grahndel. “So none only animals know where this genie is and none of us know how to ask them. How exactly are we supposed to find him them?”
The dragnor’s question was a good one and it brought with it a period of uncomfortable silence. I could feel our new-found buoyancy sinking fast in the face of such an immediate setback. As leader, I was under pressure to find a gem of hope with which to lift our spirits once again. This was no easy task; in truth I have always aired on the side of pessimism, even as a child, and I had never been good at thinking under pressure – exams had always been a nightmare for me.
This is different. I told myself. You’re not just a spoiled little child anymore, you’re a Protector, a leader. You’ve survived a night in the forest on your own, without so much as a tent, and you’ve evaded trolls and gravliers in the process; surely you’re not going to be beaten by a game of hide and seek?
“Rain!” I yelled, breaking my miserable, contemplative silence.
“Oh great,” whinged the dragnor, looking toward the sky. “Wet weather and slippery, muddy pathways, that’s all we need!”
“No,” I explained. “I don’t mean it’s raining, I mean Rain, the tree elf. She was the one who Raymondo used his bat friend to contact. Maybe she’d know where he lives.”
“It’s worth a go,” said Ophelia. “But do you know where we can find Rain?”
“No,” I admitted dejectedly as I watched a second consecutive plan of mine fail before it had begun. But then, just as I was beginning to question my qualities as a leader, Grahndel piped up with two words that immediately caused such questions to melt away;
“I do.”
***
As it turned out, the gruff, grumpy little demon, who liked nothing better than solitude and making other creature’s lives miserable, had the fragile heart of a besotted schoolgirl when it came to women. Well, one woman in particular actually. As he stammeringly informed us through a face that went rapidly from its usual shade of purple to a deep crimson with embarrassment, Grahndel had for some time now, held quite a crush on Rain. He told us of how he would spend many an hour admiring her from afar as she flitted and danced about her day (for, as everybody knows, tree elves flit and dance wherever they go), imagining what it would be like to talk to a thing of such beauty, without ever being able to summon the courage to actually do so.
Ophelia and I did our best not to laugh as the dragnor, who had always acted so tough, poured his heart out as if he were in therapy. And once he had started, he just couldn’t seem to stop. By the time he finished he had informed us of any number of embarrassing personal details about himself and his childhood that would take too long to list now, but which were highly amusing to hear from someone who took themselves so seriously.
“..and so from then on, I just had to learn to wipe my own bottom.” He finished finally, with tears in his eyes.
“Right... how terrible,” I interjected before he could move on to another story, for I was quite certain Ophelia and I would not be able to hold back our laughter any longer. “So, er, where exactly is it that we might find Rain then?”
“Oh yes, of course,” he said, sniffing back the tears and puffing out his chest as he remembered why it was he had begun his tale in the first place. “It’s this way.”
Chapter 21
“Are you sure this is the right place?” I enquired.
Upon reaching what seemed to me a decidedly unremarkable clearing, wholly indistinguishable from any of the other of the forest’s many clearings to my human eyes, Grahndel had suddenly announced that we had arrived.
“Great,” I said, a little dubiously as I scanned the surrounding area for a hidden entrance to the home of the tree elves. Needless to say I didn’t find one, but I supposed that that really was the point of hidden entrances. “So how do we get in?”
“In?” said the dragnor. “In where?”
“Into the tree elves lair, of course.”
“How on earth should I know?”
“What do you mean? You told us you were taking us to where Rain lived!”
“I said no such thing. What I said was that I knew where to find her.”
He had a point, and, more importantly, we had no better plan. We had already spent an hour getting here, it couldn’t hurt to spend a few minutes looking around.
***
“Are you sure this is the right place?” I asked after more than an hour of aimless wandering.
“Of course I’m sure, I’ve been coming here every day for months,” he replied indignantly.
“Right,” Ophelia interjected, “And exactly how long do you normally have to wait, hidden in your little bush, before she actually arrives.”
“Oh, usually not long – not more than three or four hours on a good day.”
Ophelia and I sighed in unison.
“And on a bad day?” I asked, fearing that I did not really want to know the answer.
“Well, that depends...Do you mean a bad day when she actually turns up?”
“You mean to tell me that on some days you spend your entire day just sitting here with nothing happening, and then you just go home?!” I demanded, the agitation in my voice obvious for all to hear.
“Well...yes,” he replied.
“Oh my... You’ve been spying on this girl for months and you don’t even know where she lives? You’re the worst stalker ever!”
“So we’re just supposed to wait here and hope that Rain arrives at some point in between now and midnight?” the fairy princess added. “Great plan, Grahndel.”
“Well I didn’t hear either of you coming up with anything better.”
At that moment our futile bickering was interrupted by a familiar but unexpected sound – the sound of thundering hooves. I froze with fear. The instant cessation of Ophelia’s usually constantly flapping wings against my chest told me she had done the same. Grahndel, taking quite the opposite approach, leapt from his position in my rucksack and moved faster than I had ever seen any creature move before, taking sanctuary behind a large oak. Something was coming our way. Something big. I stared all around, anxiously waiting for whatever new beast was making such a sound to arrive. I did not have to wait long. A moment or so later, out of the dense foliage across the clearing from us, emerged a creature that even many unusual encounters with the inhabitants of fairytales thus far had failed to prepare me for; a dinosaur.
Admittedly, it was a very small dinosaur, no taller than your average Labrador (if a great deal bulkier), but, its presence before me came as a great shock nonetheless. Perhaps more surprising though, was no wild beast left to roam the forest, but a tamed workhorse used to provide transportation for its two, odd-looking riders.
At the beast’s reigns sat a squat, bearded, flame-haired little man, adorned with the finest silks and two bulky satchels. At his back sat a creature whose appearance was almost impossible to describe to anybody who had witnessed it for themselves. The closest thing I could compare it to would be a mole, although, in truth, it looked like no mole I had ever seen. While it had similar claws and snout to a mole, it was at least five times as large, and its enormous, deeply black eyes suggested it would not suffer from blindness. The key difference though, was its fur, which looked as though it had been woven from the finest blue velvet and showed no signs that it had ever spent time rubbing against narrow, dirt-filled underground corridors.
“I say, you there, what is your name?” asked the ginger man, po
inting an accusatory finger at me as he did so.
“I’m Charlie,” I replied in a voice that deliberately failed to hide my pleasure at the little man’s rudeness.
“Not you, you fool. The little fairy hiding in your pocket. What is your name, woman?”
I awaited the princess’s staunch reply at being referred to as ‘woman’, but, to my surprise it did not come. Indeed she sounded distinctly meek as she answered the rude little man’s request.
“Would that be princess Ophelia, of the Yangloloo fairy tribe?”
“Yes.”
“Ha, I have found you. The hunter Aginon succeeds once more,” with this the man paused to pull from one of his satchels a large, ancient-looking book. After flicking through the pages for several moments, he began to read;
“Princess Ophelia, The Council for the Protection of the Secret of Magic hereby finds you guilty of consulting with a human child, and revealing to said child the existence of magic. The sentence for such a crime is...” another long pause ensued whilst Aginon flicked through the pages of the great volume once more, before confirming Ophelia’s fate with a single word; “...death.”
“Noooo!” cried Ophelia from within my pocket.
“You’re damn right, No,” I yelled. “Listen Mr, if you think I’m going to let you murder my friend then you are sadly mistaken! Who do you think you are?”
“I do not think that I am anybody. I know that I am Aginon, Arch General of the Woolago Dwarves, Senior Adviser to The Council for the Protection of the Secret of Magic, and Treasurer of Flinstanbury Minature Golf Society. And who, might I ask, are you?”
“My name is Charles Asmodious Crumplebum, Protector.”
“A Protector you say? Well, that would change things entirely, allow me to consult my list.” With this the dwarf reached into a second satchel and withdrew from it an enormously long sheet of parchment which had been folded many times. “Now, let me see...Crumstenfeld, Crumblewart, Crumplecheese, nope, I don’t have a crumplebum on my list.”
“Then your list must be mistaken.”
“How dare you!” spat the dwarf with a look on his face that suggested I had just insulted his mother. “The list is sacred. It is ancient, and comes from some of the very first council members. The list is the truth, it is never wrong.”
“Perhaps his time it may be,” said the odd-looking creature who sat behind the dwarf. Its voice was one of the strangest I had yet heard, and caused the watch on my wrist to burn furiously.
Aginon turned to face the creature with an unimpressed but deferntial look upon his face, and began to plead with it in hushed tones.
“But, oh great one, the list has never been wrong before. It is what we rely on. Without we are lost.”
“Then perhaps it is time we learned to rely on ourselves. The boy is clearly one of great power, I can smell it. He is either a Protector or a fellow alundri, either way the fairy has committed no crime and the charges must be relinquished.”
“Could you not be mistaken, oh mighty leader? There are, after all, a great many highly powerful magical creatures within this forest.”
“No he is not mistaken,” I interrupted angrily. “I’m a Protector, and Ophelia knew it when she spoke to me. Why else would she have done so? You’re just upset that your stupid little list is wrong. Why don’t you just get over it and let us go?”
The dwarf stared back at me with open mouths. It was a reaction that both satisfied and surprised me, since I had not expected my harsh words to have proven so shocking to him, but remained deeply pleased that they had. When he spoke his response though, I realised that it was not my insults which had so astounded him.
“You speak Snarfwitzel?” he said in disbelief. “How can that be? Nobody speaks Snarfwitzel. It is the most complicated language in all the world. Even great Alundi scholars like myself must spend decades studying it before being able to speak it so fluently, and yet you are just a boy and you are speaking it as if it were your mother tongue.”
“Am I? I hadn’t noticed. I thought I was still speaking English. I do that sometimes. I seem to have developed an ability to speak all languages.”
“All languages?” Aginon repeated incredulously.
“Yes, well, I can’t understand animals, but I don’t think they have language in the same way we do.” At this the strange creature known as a snarfwitzel interrupted his colleague;
“Protector not, Aginon, this boy is clearly no human – the charges against the fairy must be dropped.”
“But sire...” the dwarf replied loudly before remembering once more that I was able to understand all that he said, and reducing his voice to the most inaudible whisper.
“What’s going on, Charlie?” Ophelia asked in an uncertain voice that hinted that she was having trouble holding back tears. I had become so immersed in my arguments with the council members that I had wholly forgotten that I had conducted these arguments in a language which my fairy friend would have been unable to grasp.
“Oh, right, sorry,” I said. “They say that because I’m magic you haven’t actually broken any rules and so they’re not going to have to kill you afterall.”
A visible wave of relief rolled across the young princess. “Thankyou Charlie,” she said, finally allowing the tears to escape from her almond eyes.
“Hey, don’t thank me, I didn’t really do anything.”
“Of course you did, you showed them that you are magic, that you can speak all languages. You proved that you are a Protector.”
“I’m not too sure about that actually.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t think it’s me,” I whispered. “Who’s doing all the translating. I think it’s the watch.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s the watch, it used to belong to my grandfather, who was a great wizard. I think he put some sort of spell on the watch that makes it translate. I don’t think it has anything to do with me at all.”
“Please don’t tell them that, for my sake!” the little fairy exclaimed.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” I reassured her.
“Ahmm,” Aginon coughed rudely in order to gain our attention. The, speaking in English once more, he continued; “The Council has reached a decision – due to the fact that the human has turned out to hold magical powers, the fairy’s sentence is hereby rescinded.”
“Yes, yes, thank you!” Ophelia shrieked gleefully.
“Let this be a warning to you however, to be careful about with whom you choose to consort in the future. You have caused The Council much distress, and taken the attentions of one o its most important members, Ramiphisto the Sanrfwitzel, at a time of great danger for all Alundri.”
“Are you talking about the Professor?”
“How do you know of The Professor, child?” asked Ramiphisto.
“My grandmother told me about him, my grandfather went missing trying to stop him many years ago, and now Captain Blackheart is here in the forest, though we have no idea why, but whatever his plan is, I intend to be the one to stop it.”
“That is very brave of you, child,” replied the snarfwitzel, “but you must be careful. I sense a power of great evil in this place, a power much stronger than that of Blackheart alone. You will need great luck and even greater courage if you are to defeat it alone.”
“Is there anything you can do to help us?”
“I’m afraid not, the council is sworn to remain neutral in all conflicts, its job is only to protect magic’s secret, not to favour one side or the other.”
“Well can you at least tell us where we might find the genie, Raymondo?”
“Raymondo? I haven’t heard such a name in many years. I thought he may have perished. He always used to reside near the river, about a mile or so north of here, but more than that I could not tell you.”
> “Thank you,” I said. “At least we have an idea of where to begin our quest.”
“And it is a quest I wish you great fortune with, for I sense that a great many lives may depend on it. For now though, Aginon and I must return to the council and aid them in their own investigations. Good luck, Charles. May the spirit of the elders be with you.”
And, with that, the strange little threesome rode of into the forest the same way that they had arrived and I was left feeling grateful that I had not been the only one to have born witness to their presence, for if I had I would surely have doubted whether their brief but surreal visit had actually occurred.
“Is it safe?” asked Grahndel, moving tentatively out from behind the tree.
“No thanks to you, you coward!” replied Ophelia.
“I’m the coward? I wasn’t the one crying like...well, like a girl.”
“No, you ran before you had the chance.”
“And you would have to had you had the brains.”
“GUYS!” I interrupted. “Can we please stop bickering and get on with our mission, time is running out fast.”
“And how, exactly, do you suggest we do that? We have no idea as to where we are going.”
“Oh yes we do, we’re heading North,” I replied with a confident smile.
“Why North, Charlie?” asked Ophelia.
“Because North is part of the plan, call it Protector’s instinct.”
Chapter 22
“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Grahndel asked.
“Of course he’s sure!” snapped Ophelia. “He is a Protector you know!”
In truth, I was far from sure of either our direction or my own magical status. We had been walking for almost an hour and, although our progress had admittedly been hampered by Grahndel’s insistence on making the journey on foot after claiming that he was ‘sweatier than an ogre’s underpants’ in my rucksack, we should still have covered a mile by now. Despite this though, could see no sign of anything that might have been an entrance to a secret lair – which I suppose was the point of secret lairs.
Aurelius and I Page 16