A fun day out

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

GRUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

EUEUEUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEUGH!!!!!!!

Sorry about that, you've got to get stuff like that out of your system, they say it can really mess you up if you don't. Hello, by the way. As you might have gathered, things haven't quite been going to plan, if indeed there was ever a plan, which there wasn't. I wonder where that leaves me now? Not following a non-existent plan is about par for the course when you consider what I've just been through, which you will do, provided you keep on reading this.

Sorry if all this doesn't make much sense or actually isn't at all entertaining to read (though that can't have put you off if you've got this far) it's just that I've had a very traumatic experience. I hereby officially state that I have had enough of the way things are going right now, and that I for one am fed up with magical/surreal/disturbing adventures and sincerely hope never to have to live through another one for the rest of my life (however remote the chances are of that). I'm going to be petitioning reality and the space/time continuum for more boring events to happen to me. I mean, just how difficult could it be for the laws of causality if all that changes is that this blog just gets extremely dull? What would be so wrong about entries that consist of things like me getting out of bed, going downstairs for a bit, having a look out the window, then going back to bed? I mean, it would be a hell of a lot easier and much less stressful for me, and would save wear and tear on keyboard. I could add the making of a cup of tea occasionally, just to liven things up a bit. Think of the carbon footprint! I'm not sure how that applies, but throwing in an environmental issue usually does the business these days, so far as I can see.

Anyway, hold onto your eyebrows, folks, 'cos this one's going to be pretty odd. You know, I think writing this down faithfully is the only thing keeping me sane, right now. Still, it's not so bad as actually living through it, so think yourself lucky!

***

We rejoin our intrepid hero (hero?) asleep in bed. I was having a nice dream about discussing the merits of cable cars with a bright yellow parrot who was driving a bus. Where does all this stuff come from, I wonder?

Anyway, I was awakened by a loud knocking at the door. The morning sun was streaming in through a gap in the curtains. I remembered where we were, or rather that I had to find out where we were, with a sinking feeling. Don't you just hate it when you wake up in a good mood, then immediately enter a bad mood because you remember what you have to do that day? Oh well, there was nothing else for it but to get up.

“Who is it?” I shouted as I got out of bed, hoping whoever it was didn't barge in and see my dreadful pyjamas. I only bought them in amazement that they actually made Tellitubby ones in adult sizes. Don't do internet shopping when you're drunk.

“It's Nigel!” came the voice (unsurprisingly) of the aforementioned gnome, “How much longer are you going to keep us waiting? What are you up to in there?”

I interrupted rummaging in the wardrobe to make a complex expression of disgust at the door

“Up to anything? I'm not up to anything! I just need my sleep, that's all.”

“Well, hurry up, would you? Some of us weren't so comfortable in the bread bin last night as you were in that bed of yours!” came the terse reply.

I decided to wear my shaded robes of nethermost blackness – after all, it had taken me an age to make them, and I was determined to get some wear out of them. Honestly, needlework monthly had said you could knock up one of these in a single afternoon – what a load of rubbish! Well, the pattern had been for a dress originally, so I suppose that had accounted for the various problems I'd had. Looking in the mirror, I still couldn't quite shake the feeling I looked like Queen Victoria in her mourning dress. Still, it was the best I could do.

I took a quick look out of the window. The sun was rising above the mystery garden outside, it looked cool and quiet, and dew was shining on the grass. Looking at the view, I began to feel that maybe things weren't so bad. I was almost looking forward to having a look around out there.

I strode over to the door and pulled it open.

“Blimey!” said Nigel, looking at me in disbelief, “You have been up to something in there. You've had a sex change!”

“Shut up,” I said, pointedly, “You know perfectly well these are robes, but fair enough, I apologise for the bread bin remark. Now can we please stop messing about while in the middle of potentially dire situations?”

We went downstairs. Maevrin and Gorgrod were tucking into large plates of baked beans. Good grief, I never thought I'd have to witness the spectacle of Gorgrod eating here in my own home.

“Ah, there you are,” said Maevrin, “Why are you wearing a dre...”

“Alright!” I shouted, “OK!”

I turned around, went back upstairs and returned wearing the robes I'd worn the previous day. Honestly, some people have no sense of taste.

“So why have you got so many cans of baked beans?” Maevrin asked me with her usual abruptness as I entered the room.

“Well, I just got them in case of an apocalypse or something, you can never have too many cans of beans in an apocalypse. They've certainly come in handy now, haven't they?”

She cast me one of her impenetrable stares, unreadable behind those glasses of hers. I cast an eye over to Gorgrod, who was shovelling down beans like he was stoking a furnace. I couldn't help having the disconcerting feeling I'd be somewhere near him when they started their effect on his digestive system. Good grief.

I sat down and unenthusiastically ate a bowl. Just as I was finishing, Grott appeared.

“Well, well, how are we all getting on this morning?” he said, rubbing his gnarled hands together with a forced and slightly oily cheerfulness. “I wonder was today will bring? Have you all slept well?”

“Yes, thank you, “ I said, looking at him suspiciously. “Have you figured out where we are?”

I don't know if it was just my imagination, but I could have sworn that a faint look of fear passed over Grott's knobbly countenance at that moment. Had he found something out?

“No, that I haven't, I'm afraid,” he said, smiling once more, “I'm afraid we won't know until you go out and have a look.”

“'Ere!” said Gorgrod, unexpectedly showing he was keeping up with the proceedings, “Why don't you go out and have a look?”

“Oh, I'm sorry Mr Troll, I can't do that. I've got to look after the tower's defence. That is, after all, the reason for my existence in the first place.”

I looked at the troll, wondering what he was making of all this. No doubt he was taking it all in his stride - it wasn't as if you could say he was stupid as such, just loosely connected with everything else but the acquisition of beer and the money to pay for it. No doubt he'd carry on following us about until this was all over, whenever and however that would be. Maybe he thought it was all part of the house raiding job Nigel had called him out to do last night.

Well, there seemed nothing else but to do as Grott said. We cleared up the breakfast stuff, dithered around the kitchen for a few minutes, and were at last ready to head out. We decided it was best not to wander too far, just far enough to hopefully find someone to ask where we were.

The sunlight streamed in as I pulled open the door, the air smelt as fresh and clear as I ever smelt it. It felt almost like that bit near the beginning of The Wizard of Oz as we stepped out into the bright garden. It was so perfectly still, silent and strikingly beautiful that we couldn't help but stand and look around in amazement. The tower seemed to be standing in the exact centre of the place, sitting in the middle of a precise circle of the same white gravel that made up the paths, paths which stretched out in all directions like the spokes of a wheel. They were bordered by immaculately neat grass, and each section was filled with diverse arrays of trees, shrubs and richly coloured flowers. The only thing that was slightly strange was how absolutely quiet it was, there wasn't a breath of wind or sound of birdsong; the sky above was absolutely cloudless.

“Well,” said Nigel, his voice sounding oddly loud in the silence, “At least this certainly beats manning the offal boilers. Let's go and see what we can see.”

Only Maevrin looked worried.

“I don't like it,” she said, looking about uneasily, “It's too quiet. Why hasn't someone seen us? There must be people around to look after a place like this.”

“Whoa, whoa,” I said, “Let's not go down that path. We've had enough of the bizarre and disturbing yesterday, without it all kicking off again today.”

Oh, Mr Hindsight, why must you play your cruel little games with me?

We chose the path that led directly away from the front door, crunching our way along it and drinking in the morning air. It was a strange place but not unpleasantly so, I thought at the time. It had that vivid quality of a place in a dream. Actually, if comparisons with popular fiction are to be drawn, it really wasn't anything like the Wizard of Oz. It was much more understated, more like the garden in Alice Through the Looking Glass, though hopefully without the talking flowers. I stared at one suspiciously, but it seemed reassuringly inanimate.

After a while, the dark, green hedge that formed the border of the garden began to draw near. There were many more trees crowding around the edge of the path here, they hung overhead, nearly meeting above us. There was no gate as the path passed through the hedge, but it was still difficult to make out what lay beyond.

“Did you just say something?”, Nigel said to me, looking puzzled.

“No,” I said, “I didn't hear anything.”

“I thought I heard a voice. Said 'My name is Kaloo-something-or-other', I couldn't quite catch it.”

“Oh, not you as well,” I said, “Look, I'm determined, despite having arrived in a teleporting tower, for us not to have a disturbing and creepy day. I'm sure it must be your imagination, so please calm down.”

Nigel grumbled to himself, pulling his pointy hat down low on his head and sticking his hands in his pockets. Soon, we had reached the gap in the hedge and passed through it.

We found ourselves standing on a dusty old country lane which ran off around the curve of the hedge. In front of us there was nothing but grass covered hills stretching away into the distance. I was suddenly aware that a fresh breeze was ruffling my hair, which was strange, as we surely should have felt it in the garden behind us. Turning to mention this to the others behind me, I suddenly and uncomfortably realised that the lane running alongside the hedge, as well as the hedge itself was now perfectly straight, and the path leading back through the garden was now curved to the right, meaning we could no longer see the tower. Furthermore, there were now white clouds skudding swiftly across the sky.

We all stood, looking at each other.

“Right.....” I said, “What exactly just happened there? You know, come to think of it, I think it might actually be an idea to turn back right now, don't you think?”

“Just a moment!” said Maevrin, “There's somebody coming down the road!”

We all turned to where she was pointing. It was difficult to make out, as dust blown up from the lane was obscuring our view, but there was definitely a figure walking towards us, a figure of curiously monotonous colour that seemed to be wearing a tall hat.

We all stood silently waiting for the walker to reach us. However, as the figure began to resolve itself, we understandably declined to strike up a conversation.

It was a man made entirely out of pork sausages.

The sausage man walked calmly toward us, its feet making soft, squelching sounds on the road. It raised the sausage top hat it was wearing and squished its eyeless sausage features into a friendly smile as it passed in front of us, then away down the road. It was soon lost in the distance.

There was a long and deeply uncomfortable pause.

“Well,” I said, in a faded, sing-song sort of voice, “I take it you also just witnessed the creepiest thing I've ever seen?”

“Yeah, I just did.” said Nigel vaguely. Maevrin merely nodded.

“I'm not sure I'll be able to eat a certain meat based product again after that.” I said.

Nigel turned to me, and spoke urgently.

“Look, mate, don't mess about. We've got to get out of here, back to the tower.”

I didn't need to discuss it with him. However, as we all turned as one to leg it back down the white path, we realised that the hedge, the path and everything else had gone. With a disturbing lack of transition, we were standing on a city street.

The buildings were tall and very shiny, seemingly made of stainless steel or chrome in various neon colours. It appeared to be night, and the scene was lit by various brilliant points of coloured light positioned seemingly at random. When I looked up at the sky, I wondered why I wasn't entirely surprised that all I could see above us was the colossal form of a honey bee hovering there, vast beyond all imagination, its wings flapping up and down steadily and smoothly, exactly like a slow motion video from a nature program. The street we were in was quite narrow for the height of the buildings, and the whole scene had an intolerably oppressive feel. There was a deep, throbbing sound in the air.

Looking back down, I noticed strange, bulbous figures had begun to issue from the doors of the buildings and from manhole covers in the pavement. As one of them approached us, I realised it, like all the others was a kind of anthropomorphised cake with arms, legs, and an unsettlingly human face with glassy, staring eyes. Soon there were a great heard of them passing quietly in front of us. One was in the shape of a doughnut, with it face distorted grotesquely across the ring shape. I should have been terrified, but at that point I felt strangely numb.

The cake people were all making their way towards one point, at the foot of the tallest tower. I craned my neck above them, and saw that they were all entering a wide, black opening in the wall, above which flashed a bright neon sign, which read:

“PARTY”

I realised that the dark opening had metallic teeth and lips. From within it, there was a dull, rhythmical clanging, thumping and grinding as the disturbing figures disappeared into its darkness. I also realised I was alone – there was no sign of the others beside me. I looked around wildly, and spotted Gorgrod standing motionless a little way down the street, staring upwards. But before I could get to him, he had swiftly and noiselessly transformed into a large, black bird, a raven maybe, and had flown away.

I was at the point of despairing, when suddenly there was the sound of a vehicle's engine revving loudly, the screech of tires and the blast of a horn. A large, bright yellow bus swayed into view, scattering the cake figures left and right. The driver's side window rolled down, revealing the face of a very large, yellow parrot.

“Hop in mate!” It said, cheerily. “Come on, I haven't got all night!”

The doors slid open with a hiss, but though I could see little alternative, I hesitated. Suddenly, the cake-creatures attention switched abruptly away from the door. As one, they all turned to face me, their vacant, glassy eyes on mine as they started to shamble my way, this time letting out a thin, babbling murmur. That was persuasion enough. I jumped aboard, collapsing in a heap on the floor. The bus screeched off again, with one unpleasant squelch which must have been the demise of one of those cake-men. The wipers cleaning whipped cream off the windscreen didn't help my state of mind.

When I managed to gather my senses, I gingerly made my way to the front of the bus. Outside, it was as if we were flying through the depths of space – stars and nebulae were shooting past us at a fantastic rate. I reached the parrot driver and looked cautiously at him.

“Wotcher!” said the parrot, amiably, one wing resting on the steering wheel, the other clutching a cigarette. There was no mistaking it, I'd seen that parrot before, and not so long ago.

“You're the parrot from my dream!” I said.

“Course I am, son,” said the parrot. “Course I am. Now did you think an honest dream like me could leave you in the lurch down there? All them bloody cakes messin' about all over the place? Nah, son, don't you worry. I'll take you to see the boss. He'll show you what's what, right enough.”

The parrot gave me a wink, and started whistling. I slumped against the window on the opposite side, then suddenly remembered the others. The parrot seemed to read my mind.

“Don't worry about your friends, son. They'll be fine once the boss hears about you.”

“Oh,” I said, weakly, “That's alright then.”

The obvious question occurred to me.

“Who is this boss you're talking about?”

The parrot sucked at the air in the manner of builders about to make a hefty quote.

“Oh, I can't be talking about the likes of him, I'll let him speak for himself.”

The parrot drove on silently for a while, the conversation apparently exhausted.

“So,” said the parrot, suddenly, “What do you reckon about cable cars, then?”

***

I can't exactly remember getting off the bus. In fact, as far as I remember, I'd only closed my eyes for a moment, as the swirl of the stars had made me feel dizzy. This is what happened, as best as I can remember, though it all seems now as if it happened to another person entirely.

I was walking down a street, at night, alone, and I had been walking for some time. The silence and the solitude seem to hang in the air around me. I was walking steadily, the dark windows of suburban houses staring silently at me as I passed, their blank faces bathed in faded sodium glare. I was concious of not having to worry about anything but watching the sombre scene slide by.

I lifted my gaze slightly and stared blankly up the street. A dark hedge with a small brick wall at its foot bordered the path ahead; beyond, a side street branched away into the gloom. Suddenly and unpleasantly, I realized a dark shape resting against the low wall was that of a person; a man, lying partly slumped against the brickwork. He was just beyond the nearest pool of light, a shadowy silhouette. I could make out no features.

He was lying on his side, with his head propped uncomfortably against the wall. Despite this, I felt certain that dark and entirely conscious eyes were regarding me from the deeply shadowed face.

The world had changed completely. The emptiness had gone, now I felt only self-consciousness and doubt. Too late to stop or cross the road before he saw me; I was sure that he already had. I felt a sudden certainty that I would not walk past the shadowed figure, despite the awkwardness of turning away. I drew to a halt, then swung to my right, making to cross the road.

“Hey!”

The voice started out across the street; hoarse, rasping, yet weak and gasping, almost unnatural. I froze, feeling sudden shock and fear as I realized how pitiable the voice sounded, as if the speaker was near the final end of his strength. The slumped shape was still absolutely motionless; it seemed almost impossible that the voice had come from it, were it not for the persistent feeling of the hidden eyes upon me. It seemed almost inevitable when I started out towards the figure.

As I grew closer, I began to make out more detail. Slowly I could make out tattered clothes, a stubbled chin, and on the pavement beside him, an overturned can with a tiny stream of liquid threading its way toward the gutter. I slowed my approach, not wanting to get too close. The figure gave a shudder and began to struggle awkwardly to a sitting position, the face finally coming into the light, a sickly, haggard face with dark, haunted eyes.

I stopped. As the man's eyes met mine, his face cracked into the ghost of a smile, he seemed almost about to laugh. Then his face grew serious.

“Do you know,” he said hoarsely, “You're the first awake, sane person I've seen for over four hundred years?”

He appeared to take in my expression.

“I know you've been in here long enough to forget who you are, as if you were dreaming. Well, this is not a dream, it is quite real, as real as this place can ever be.”

Once again, I remained silent.

“I'm sure you've heard of me. In my time I shook mountains, shaped continents, slew armies. I have paid for it more than you could ever imagine. But all I have suffered would be entirely in vain, should you fail in what I am about to entrust you with. Please, listen to me.”

I contemplated running. I should have been in bed, I had lectures the next day. The old man was clearly insane, but something in his voice made me strangely reluctant to miss hearing what he had to say, as if in some strange way I knew who he was. The man continued.

“I discovered a source of strength so great it that tore our world apart. I found the very conduit that links universes, forcing open the door from our world to the world it feeds from. Ours is a satellite universe, nothing more, my own foolish tampering upset the delicate balance of reality. It was when my power grew so great that I could transcend time itself that I realised what I had done. Not only had our universe forever been changed by the flood of influence coming through from the mother world, something else was leaking through that came from another place entirely, something that should never have a direct connection with reality.”

“This is the force I've been fighting these past four hundred years. The realm of dreams has been rushing through the rend I made, growing like a cancer. Perhaps dreams are not the best description for these things, as with dreams come nightmares, and when nightmares stray into wakefulness you will know horror, chaos, insanity, oblivion.”

“But the situation was not hopeless. I was winning. However, all that has changed. Somebody out there in the real world had begun tapping the source once again, widening the rend, and I believe you have encountered him. Because of his actions, I am nearing the limit of my strength. If this man is not stopped, the bubble holding back the tide of insanity with burst, and the world will be as good as dead.”

The man was quite mad, but I found it impossible to leave him.

“Don't let this happen! Go back to the real world and kill the man who is doing this! If you can only find a way to stop him, I will fight these nightmares back to their own dark dimension and restore the balance of reality, and then I will at last be able to finally die. Tell my servants that I will return to them before the end and release them from their duties. Yes, to die... but that is nothing for one who has seen the beginning and end of time.”

Suddenly, a deep groaning shudder rolled down the street, so deep you could feel it in your bones. The old man's eyes widened.

“Kalumantu!” he said, his face hardening. “There's a war raging here, good dreams versus nightmares. The most powerful nightmares have personalities of their own, and this one is the lord of them all. Only he could have broken through my defences at a time like this. I barely have the strength to fight him, but I will keep him at bay long enough for you to escape! Go now!”

Something was stirring at the end of the street. I could see dark, jointed legs moving somewhere in the half darkness just beyond the street lamps. Something huge was moving there, moving much too quickly and jerkily for something so seemingly massive.

“Didn't you hear me?” said the old man, his eyes now wild and staring, “You need to get out of here!”

But my legs had gone numb and refused to move.

“I can't move!” I shouted.

“No, no!” shouted the old man, “I mean get out of here, not run away!”

Suddenly the groaning rose to a crescendo. A terrible, black shape detached itself from the darkness and began to surge down the street. Multiple, crab-like limbs crashed their way along the concrete, smashing lamp-posts like twigs and kicking great lumps from the road. A enormous dark shape swayed and rocked above the crustacean-like body. The monster drew rapidly closer and the mass above resolved itself as the face and upper body of a grotesquely twisted clown, flapping around like a corpse, yet filled with lust for our destruction. It let out a bursting roar as it saw us, the absolute, mindless horror of a thousand death-rattles. The last thing I remember is the old man struggling to his feet to face the beast, before I was filled with a sudden sensation of rushing upwards.

***

I opened my eyes. The faces of Nigel and Maevrin were looking worriedly down at me. Thank goodness for that! I think I'd just about had enough of nightmares to last me a lifetime. It seemed we were back in the garden, at the foot of the familiar and comfortable shape of Zarfang.

“What happened?” I asked, struggling into a half sitting position.

The other's faces clouded.
“Well, I don't really know,” said Nigel. “We went into that....place,” he shuddered, “but we were led out again, there was a light, and a voice, it showed us the way. We went down this swirly great tunnel thing, we passed you, you were spark out, so I got Gorgrod to carry you. We came out here.”

It was then that I remembered the meeting with the old man. Now, of course, I knew what he meant, and who he was.

Oh.

Oh dear.

Not good at all.

“Right,” I said, standing up unsteadily, “There's only one thing to do at a time like this! Follow me!”

I opened the door of the tower. There was Grott, waiting eagerly. He began to open his mouth, but I cut him off.

“Not now! I'll deal with you later!”

I quickly rummaged my way to the back of the larder, where I'd hidden among the numerous baked bean cans a bottle of the finest dragon blood whiskey, top prize at a tombola I'd entered a few years previously. I brought it back to the kitchen, poured some generous measures and handed them around. I figured we'd all earned something to steady our nerves.

“You've met my master, haven't you!” said Grott, excitedly as we hurriedly downed our drinks. “I can sense his influence on you! What did he say?”

I groaned inwardly. Somehow I felt sure things weren't going to end well.

***

Oh well, that's enough of that for one day. Stay tuned for the (possibly) exciting continuation of this quasi-epic tale, providing I don't meet some kind of all too possible demise in the mean time. Or the universe ends, of course.

I'm still alive (part 3)

Well, here I am again, my short and shiny children. Here I am, once again, to tell you about the stuff that happened after the last stuff that happened. Yes, it is I.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, the whole vortex, stabbing and related activities. Honestly, the things that happen to me these days.... I think it's high time we swapped back into the comfortable medium of the adjective-laden flashback. Whoosh!

***

No sooner had Grott flung the dagger into the swirling maelstrom in front of us, when I was suddenly gripped by a vice-like, icy sensation. It was over before I really had a chance to experience its full hideousness, which was probably just as well. Almost immediately something started to happen in the vortex in front of us. A bright light started to blossom in its depths, growing rapidly until it filled the whole chamber.

"Yes!" Grott said excitedly, "Yes! the tower's starting to move!"

I looked at him with an expression which I hoped indicated that moving the tower wasn't exactly on my top ten list of things to do that day, but he didn't seem to notice. The light from the vortex grew brighter and brighter, though strangely without seeming to hurt my eyes, until I could feel the warmth of it on my face.

Grott turned around to face us.

"Well," he said cheerfully, "Anyone fancy a cup of tea?"

***

About ten minutes later, we were all back upstairs in the kitchen. A cup of tea in the hand was little comfort when all you can see out of the window resembled an advanced kind of screen saver with complicated swirly bits. There hadn't seemed much choice but to follow Grott's suggestion, but I was beginning to feel like some kind of small leaf being swept along in a flood.

Looking at Grott sipping at his tea and grinning knowingly, you'd have been hard pressed to believe he was running around in a blind panic mere minutes ago. You'd also have been hard pressed to believe he was the same Grott as the one who'd been my helpful and warty sidekick for so long. Honestly, the feeling of embarrassment was the one that struck me the most. All those times he'd bumbled around doing my general bidding, and all that time he was just pretending - it didn't bare thinking about! I can't believe I had him pour custard all down the stairs for an indoor skiing extravaganza, or that time I had him as the chief umpire and jam spreader of the Toast Olympics. Err.... don't worry yourself too much about that one. Still, life is full of disappointments, like that time in my childhood when my giant, invisible panda friend told me I have a poor grasp on reality. [Note to self : remove that awful joke, it was a real stinker]

I looked around. From the looks on my companions' faces, it seemed the torrent of questions was only being held back by the weird experiences of the last half hour. Suffice to say, despite the fact that they'd only had themselves to blame for being daft enough to come along in the first place, something told me they weren't exactly overjoyed at the situation they now found themselves in.

"So," said Grott, looking at each of us penetratingly with his beady black eyes, "I expect you're wondering what's going on?"

"Well funny you should say that," said Nigel the Gnome sarcastically, "I was kind of wondering. Just don't give us that 'there isn't much time' crap again, else you'll feel the tip of my pointy hat right where it hurts."

"Oh, do be quiet," said Grott condescendingly. Nigel looked at him darkly, then over to Gorgrod. I think he was considering getting the troll to give Grott a swift bit of treatment with his hob-nail boots.

"I do admit," continued Grott, "That I was indeed having a small amount of fun at your expense. I didn't realise that blasted wizard would show up right in the middle of it though, so I suppose I'd better apologise for that."

"Look," I interjected, "Before we go any further, I can't help asking: should I still call you Grott?"

The others looked put out at me asking daft questions at a time like that, but it was kind of important to me. I remember when he first moved into the tower I'd asked him his name, at which point he'd made one of his famous gurgling noises and rushed over to the kitchen table, scrawling a semi-illegible word that I could only interpret as 'Grott' on the back of an old newspaper. Ah, I can't help feeling nostalgic, those were simpler times indeed. *sigh*

Grott smirked.

"Yes, you can continue to call me that, I find it amusing enough. If truth be told, I don't really have a name, my illustrious master didn't see fit to give me one, so therefore I have no real need for one."

"Your master?" I asked, hoping this would lead him in the right direction.

"Yes, the Lord Telvarin, the greatest wizard the world has ever seen. This, as I said previously, was his original home; his first mage tower. It was here he hid his greatest secret, the source of his absolute power."

"Well, that's very interesting, you know," I replied awkwardly, "But what's going to happen to us, and how exactly do we fit into all of this?"

"Well, everyone but you is here by pure chance. When you arrive a few years ago, I really couldn't help but let you in. You know, I was created solely for the purpose of looking after this place, but even I get bored sometimes. There didn't seem much harm in letting you move in, it gave me something to fill the time with."

"How long have you been here?" Maevrin chipped in, "Didn't Venedir Telvarin disappear?"

"He didn't disappear!" said Grott, with a sudden irritability that surprised us, "He is merely away from home for a while. And in answer to your first question, I have been waiting for four hundred and seventy eight years."

There was a long pause. I contemplated asking if that entitled him to a free bus pass, just to try and improve the mood a bit. Maevrin's expression had changed to something approaching pity.

"Don't you kind of, well, lonely hanging about here all on your own?" said Maevrin hesitatingly.

"No I don't!" Grott replied, "I knew someone would ask me that the first time I saw you lot come in the door! Didn't I say I was created specifically to look after this place? Of course I don't need any company, I just get a bit bored from time to time. Got that?"

"OK, OK," said Nigel, "Calm down, she didn't mean no harm. All I want to know is, what was with all that destruction outside, that wizard bellowing at us, and how does it fit in with Ivan?"

"Well, at last a sensible question," said Grott, "Well, the truth is, the last thing I expected to happen was that Eldrigar showing up. I don't know how he did it, but he must have discovered how to tap the same source my master learned to, all those years ago. He must have been drawn to the general location of the tower, but I don't think he realised at first what the tower actually contained. His presence totally disrupted my ability to move this place away from harm, forcing me to boost the tower's power with him over there."

Grott gestured towards me. What a fine and heady sinking feeling I felt at that moment.

"What exactly have you done to me?", I asked, wondering if I wanted the answer.

"Oh, nothing much. I just hooked up your soul to the tower's spacial uplink, nothing to worry about. I'd been trying to do it via that horrible drink I've been making for you these last few weeks, the only surprise being that you actually liked the stuff. Anyway, more drastic measures were needed, hence the drop of blood. I'd put a plaster on that wound if I were you, I didn't get a chance to sterilise that dagger."

Oh, what a relief he was so concerned about me! Hooked up my soul?

"What do you mean, hooked up my soul? I'm supposed to take that calmly, am I? What's it going to do to me?"

"Look," said Grott irritably, "I told you already it's nothing to worry about. It's not going to do you the slightest harm, and as for why, when you understand the complexities of hyper-dimensional spatial folding you can come and tell me what the best course of action is."

"Alright," I said, "I just don't know why you couldn't use your own soul if you needed one."

Grott paused, grinning nastily. He seemed to be pausing for effect.

"That would be because I don't have a soul. You can't create a soul."

I'm fairly sure he only said that to freak us out. It pretty much worked.

"Err, well, OK, so what's the plan from here, then?" asked Nigel, trying to move things off the disturbing, "You know, I only came along in the hope of a bit of free junk to take down the car boot sale next Saturday, I didn't sign up for all this freaky stuff. Where are you taking us and when can I get out?"

"I'm taking you to the other side of the world, where hopefully the tower will be safe for the time being, while I think what to do. You're all free to go when we arrive, of course."

This was not met with approval.

"The other side of the world?!" we all said in chorus, like the cast of some dodgy old cartoon.

"Yes, you'll be free to go after that."

There was nothing much you could say to that. Nigel nodded to Gorgrod, who stepped forward menacingly. Grott didn't bat an eyelid.

"Right," he said, "I've just about had enough of all this. Take us back somewhere near where we were and drop us off, or my troll friend here'll give you something to think about. Well?"

Grott looked positively bored. I was about to tell Nigel to stop it, when it seemed he'd made up his mind.

"OK, then, let him have it!"

But as Gorgrod lunged at Grott, his great fists swung through nothing but fresh air as Grott had shot out of the kitchen door, down the hall and out of sight so fast it was frightening to behold. The only thing faster I'd ever seen was Nigel closing the internet browser on the works computer when the supervisor came in.

"Now what did you go and do that for?" I asked, turning to a stunned looking Nigel. "Unless you hadn't noticed, we're in the middle of something way beyond our understanding, and you go and try to beat up the one guy that can explain it all!"

After the usual round of recriminations, we searched the tower from top to bottom, bar the strange chamber below, as the stone covering the entrance seemed to have sealed it up again. We shouted out to Grott to forgive us and come out, but there was no sign of him. From the windows, all we could see was an eerie pattern of purplish stars swirling silently against absolute blackness.

"Well," said Maevrin, as we stood dejectedly in the kitchen again, "What are we going to do now, then? Just who's bright idea was it to head over here was it in the first place?"

"Well, it was you that told me this place was still standing, what else was I supposed to do?" I retorted.

"Oh, forget it," she said, bitterly. "I'm going to go and steam some stamps off that heap of old envelopes in the corner, it helps me think."

We all stared at her as she started boiling some water, partly in that we found it difficult to believe anyone could have come up with such a course of action in the circumstances, and partly because we didn't have anything better to do. Just to let you know, dear readers, the pile of old envelopes in the corner doesn't have a secret identity and should play no further part in the proceedings. Just in case you were wondering, I'd saved them to write my shopping lists on the back. Thank you for your time, normal service will now be resumed.

In the end, there was nothing much we could do but try and make ourselves as comfortable as possible, so we raided the cupboards for some canned food and dragged enough random bits of soft furnishing upstairs to my room to make it comfortable enough for everybody to lie down. The only reason we went in my room was that if there was any sleeping to be done, I decided I'd be doing it on my own bed, and in the circumstances of being in a tower creepily floating through goodness knows what with Grott lurking somewhere about I don't think anyone wanted to be on their own, even with Gorgrod's flimsy grasp of what was going on.

As we were installing ourselves in my bedroom, there came a slightly unsettling change in our surroundings. Dimly at first, then more distinctly, we could hear a sort of low, groaning sound coming from outside, or possible more like a deeper version of the creaking of an old wooden sailing ship in heavy weather. This was accompanied by the occasional faint vibration that seemed to be running throughout the tower. I don't have to tell you, this didn't really improve our enjoyment of the the evening's events. For want of something better to do, I tried sending out an account of our exploits on the computer, but it came out all garbled and weird, as you probably saw. We sat around morosely staring out of the window and listening to the strange sounds rumbling around the tower. You know, the only person I could think of who had any experience with teleporting castles was Count Duckula. What he would have done at a time like this?

After what must have been an hour or two, without the slightest warning something happened that woke Maevrin (who'd been dozing off on the sofa cushions) and made the rest of us sit up in surprise. Suddenly in place of the darkness, there was now bright light, like sunlight, shining through the windows. It was sunlight.

We all crowded around the window, blinking as we took in the view that now presented itself.

We were in the middle of a perfectly tranquil garden. White gravel paths radiated out from where the tower stood, and between them were immaculate arrays of flowers and shrubs, elegant trees and swathes of pristine grass. The light, now our eyes had got used to it, was mellow. It seemed to be the late afternoon; the sun was sinking quite low in the sky, casting warm shafts of light between the trees and long shadows. In the Nigel pushed open the windows, and the smell of the flowers wafted in.

"Where are we?" breathed Nigel.

"I haven't the faintest idea," came a now familiar squeaky voice from behind us.

Grott had reappeared. He was casting his beady eyes over us once again.

"I trust you're not planning on setting your bulbous friend on me again, are you now?"

"No, we're not," I said firmly, before Nigel had a chance to say anything. "Now, could you hold on for just one moment, please?"

I took another look out of the window. There wasn't a soul in sight, it really did seem peaceful. I had pretty much had enough for one day.

"Are we in any immediate danger?"

"No," replied Grott, "Not as far as I can see. Aside from the fact that I can't explain why we've materialised four hours early in a completely unknown place, other than that, there is no apparent danger. The view's the same around the whole tower, and I don't sense anything obviously dangerous going on. The tower's defences are fully active."

"Right, then," I said, "You can keep an eye out, can't you? I've had just about enough of all this for one day. The sun will probably be setting out there in a few hours, and I for one would feel a lot better tackling things after a good night's sleep."

Grott grimaced.

"Oh very well, then," he said, grumpily, "You can all stay here for the time being, at least until I've figured out what's going on. And yes, I can keep a lookout - have you ever seen me sleep?"

"OK, that's enough of the creepy stuff for one day," I said briskly, shooing everyone towards the door, "Everybody out, I want to close the door, have a good sulk and pretend all this isn't happening for a few hours, I suggest you all do the same."

"But, where can I sleep?" said Maevrin as she was hustled through the door.

"Oh, there's an old room downstairs with a bed in, you can have that. I never use it."

"What about me?” said Nigel, who was trying to avoid Gorgrod's boots.

"I'm sure you can find somewhere," I replied, "Try the bread bin in the larder, you're small enough."

Something told me that remark would probably be noted down and avenged at a later date, but I didn't really care right then. Gorgrod looked as if he was about to say something, but I cut him off before his lumbering brain processes came to an end point.

"Not now, please, save it for the morning!" I said to him, knowing trolls didn't really need anything but a floor to sleep on.

With one final "See you tomorrow!" I shut the door behind them and leant on in, sighing. What a day! I suppose I wouldn't be turning up for my afternoon shift the next day at the factory, though there really were more important things to worry about than that. I closed the window and pulled the curtains, first taking a quick look at the view. I have to say, it really was the most beautiful garden I'd ever seen. The colours were so rich, yet kind of dreamy and otherworldly. In the distance, I could see the garden ended in a tall, deep green hedge, and beyond it a succession of round, green hills stretched away as far as the eye could see.

Well, it turned out that I didn't feel as sleepy as I thought, so after lying on the bed for a while, I got up and switched on my computer again to update my loyal internet minions on my recent adventures, which is, of course, what you've just finished reading. Why did I divide it into three parts? Well, why not, it makes it more fun. Seems the internet connection is working properly now, though please don't ask me how it works in the first place because I haven't got a clue.

Oh well, at this point we've arrived at the present tense. It's got dark outside, and after all that typing, I think a good sleep is on the cards after all. Tomorrow I'll have to go out there and find out what's going on, something I have decidedly mixed feelings about. I suppose this stuff is more exciting than shuffling around the place then going out to get my dole money, but really, I could do without any more weirdness. Let's all hope that the foreboding note about weirdness at the end of the previous sentence won't come back to haunt me. Well, I can but hope.

OK, bye for now....

I'm still alive... part 2

Well, after the last exciting instalment I expect you're interested in what happened next. Right, I'll let you know, but spare a thought for me, typing away here in these conditions! Well, you'll see, I suppose.

***

I stood there, scarcely able to believe what I'd just seen. Grott stood in front of us, staring at me in an entirely more penetrating way than he ever had before.

Nigel sidled over to me.

"Hey," he said, "Who's old warty?"

"Don't call him that!" I hissed, not taking my eyes off the squat figure in front of me, "I'm trying to figure out what's going on."

I figured I'd better at least try to say something.

"So," I said, "You can talk, then."

"Yes," he said, simply and precisely. He had a voice like some kind of elderly professor who'd spent his life studying something nobody but him had the remotest interest in, which left him prone to bouts of irrational irritability.

It wasn't the best of moments. I passed a hand over my face.

"Good grief," groaned, "How embarrassing."

I took the hand from my face and stared at Grott in disbelief.

"Look - I don't know who on earth you are, but you can't blame me for asking. What the hell did you pretend not to be able to talk for, and why did you pretend to be a bit, well, mentally challenged? I mean, should I even call you Grott? What were you doing? Doing my bidding, all this time you were just pretending? Are you insane? What's the matter with you?"

Grott smiled unnervingly.

"Well," he said, almost cackling, "I can't answer all those questions at once, now can I?"

I sat down on the bed wearily.

"OK, OK. Can you please tell me what's going on, because despite whether I'm supposed to know what's happening, I really haven't a clue."

"Very well, I shall. But don't get comfortable, we don't have a lot of time."

The others sat down on the bed, except Gorgrod, who sat down awkwardly on the floor. Presumably Nigel had temporarily abandoned his house raiding plans as something interesting appeared to be happening. Maevrin had a toned down version of the expression she'd had when she first saw Grott. She leant over to whisper to me.

"I knew he was all weird and unnatural when I first set eyes on him. What was all that stuff you said about him being great and loyal and all that?"

I gave her what I hoped was a dirty look, but I don't think it worked.

Grott was grimacing at us. When he was sure he had our full attention, he began to speak.

"As I previously stated, we do not have the luxury of time. I expect you're wondering who I am, and why this modest tower has remained untouched in spite the furious attacks brought upon it. Am I right?"

"Yes," we all replied in unison.

"Well, then I shall tell you, despite time not being on our side. What I am about to tell you, may shock you, may indeed surprise you. Are you absolutely certain you are ready to hear what I have to say?"

"Yes," we all replied, once again. Yes, this was getting annoying already.

"Very well, I shall tell you. But, be aware! What I am about to tell you is something I have never told a soul during the entire length of my long existence, and time is indeed of the essence. It contains great secrets, the like of which you could not possibly have dreamed. Are you fully prepared to hear what I have to say?"

"Yes!" we all replied again.

"So, then. I shall tell you. Make ready to hear the most amazing revelation..."

"Oh for god's sake!" I interrupted, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Grott, as I'll continue to call him for want of a better name, grinned almost impishly - was he having us on?

His grin faded suddenly, as a great thundering explosion suddenly roared into life immediately outside the tower, lighting the room in a brilliant yellow, which faded into a swirling kaleidoscope of green and purple. Grott ducked his head, evidently taken by surprise, his face now deadly serious. Almost immediately after the first, a second explosion tore against the tower, and this time the floor seemed to move very slightly beneath our feet. Everyone had nearly jumped out of their skins but Grott, who had jumped up on the chair beside the window and was now looking out of it fitfully. Then, an enormous, booming voice rang out from somewhere in the night, so loud it was as much as I could do to stop myself jamming my hands over my ears. It was a furious, wild, voice, near insane.

"GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT AND FACE ME LIKE A MAN! I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE HIDING IN THERE! I KNOW WHO YOU ARE!"

Grott leapt down from his chair and raised his arm in front of him, palm down. I watched, amazed, as the floor appeared to melt beneath his hand, then draw itself up into a long, tapering point, terminating in a rounded shape which he began to talk into like a microphone. Amazingly, his voice sounded loudly outside the tower as he began to speak.

"Mr Eldrigar, I advise you to try speaking like a civilised human being. Now why don't you tell me what exactly it is you want?"

There was a short pause, then the voice answered, much more quietly this time, as if calmed somewhat by getting a response. It was recognisable as Eldrigar's now

"Who am I addressing?" boomed Eldrigar, "Is that you, you wretched wizard?"

"Never mind who this is. I will tell you this, and this alone. You will not get into this tower, you are meddling with forces you can't possibly have the slightest conception of and if you don't leave immediately, I will unleash this tower's defences on you, and fry you to a crisp. You understand?"

At this point, I was standing there gawping like an idiot. What on earth had we stumbled on here? And I had thought I'd be able to find a quiet life when I moved into Zarfang. Yeah, that worked out well...

Eldrigar answered almost immediately.

"You don't scare me, wizard. I know exactly what's going on here. You may call yourself ridiculous names, and pretend to be some kind of bumbling fool, but I realise now that I was the fool to underestimate you. I came looking for the legendary source, but how could I have known it would be in this shoddy little tower and owned by some mage scarcely worth the name and seemingly incapable of the simplest spell! I've been watching you, waiting for the moment when you were to return to your tower and reveal your true identity. That beggar in the street was me!"

"Whatever trick you were trying to pull in letting me get you out of that tower doesn't matter in the slightest now. I felt the shield around this place weakening when I sent my last attack. If you don't come out and fight me, I will unleash such hellish fire on you that the whole tower will be ground into dust. I will give you one minute to decide what to do."

The echoes of Eldrigar's voice died away. There was a pregnant pause.

"Was he talking about me?" I asked. Despite the imminent threat of utter annihilation, I kind of took exception to the "bumbling fool" part.

"Don't say a word!" said Grott, his face set in determination. "I'm not fooling around now, we really don't have time. Follow me!"

He leapt out of the room and disappeared down the stairs. I looked at the confused faces around me and decided there was little else I could do but follow him. I dashed down the stairs, along the hallway and into the kitchen, skidding to a stop. Grott was waiting there for me, beckoning frantically. The others were close behind. Grott led us quickly into the pantry at the back of the kitchen, and waved his hand across a spot on the floor. With a grating noise, a door slid open in the floor, revealing a set of stone steps winding down into the darkness. So that was where he'd been disappearing to! Grott dived down the steps and disappeared. I followed as quickly as I could - it was harder for me get down there, the passage way seemed designed for someone exactly Grott's size and I had to bend almost double to fit. Gorgrod wouldn't be coming, but I was aware of the others following close behind.

After what seemed a long while, but was probably only a matter of seconds, I suddenly found myself in a large, cellar like chamber, clad in neatly fitted grey stones and lit with a strange, fluctuating light. Grott was standing just ahead, back facing me, but what was behind him took my breath away.

Hovering in the very centre of the chamber was the most incredible sight. I can only describe it being as if there were a great rend in the whole fabric of space itself, just floating there in the centre of the room, a large dome built into the floor and roof to accommodate it. Pulsing light of every colour imaginable appeared to be leaking from it in innumerable strands that brightened and faded rhythmically as it appeared to open and close subtly. But it was the way it seemed you were looking at something that should have been measured in millions of miles, compressed to fit in a modest room that really blew your mind.

I don't normally swear, but I invented seven entirely new swear words on the spot.

Before I'd gathered my thoughts there was a rumbling sound and dust started to fall from the roof of the chamber as we felt the floor quake under our feet. Grott turned on me, wild eyed.

"Quick! Give me your hand, there's no time! I need a drop of your blood!" he shouted.

"What! Tell me what's going on!" I shouted back, totally confused but determined to finally get to the truth.

"OK! I'll tell you! This tower is the original home of the legendary wizard, Venedir Telvarin! He discovered and widened the great vortex you see before you, the source of his power! And if we don't move the tower in the next thirty seconds, Eldrigar's going to get to this source, which it appears he's started to tap, just like Telvarin, at which point the world will be as good as dead! Get it?! Now give me your hand!"

I stuck out my hand and gasped as Grott jabbed at it with a dagger he'd whipped from his clothing. Drops of blood beaded on the blade as I drew my hand back convulsively. A second later he had turned and flung the dagger deep into the heart of the vortex.

****

Well, I hope you enjoyed reading that, because it certainly was bloody stressful living through it, I can tell you. Good grief, the things I get up to these days! Anyway, part three will follow shortly. I've got a bit of time on my hands, hard to believe as it is having just read that. Oh well, see you next time!

I'm still alive

Yes, folks, it is I, the Limpet.

Well, it's been an eventful few days. I expect you're wondering what I've been up to and where I am now, or at least have nothing much else going on. Well! Don't be lulled into a false sense of security! My adventures are probably enough to cause permanent hair loss to the unwary at the very least! Oh well, enough with the introduction, I'll now transport you back to the beginning of my daring mission, operation Get Back Into Zarfang. Yes, OK, I didn't really call it that.

The moon was rising like a big, round, shiny white thing over the town square when I met with Maevrin. I noticed immediately that she'd cunningly converted her (alleged) adventurer's costume into a surprisingly effective camouflage job by painting the non stained bits brown. I had also made a nod to concealment by tying a few random bits of bracken to myself at strategic points. I was wearing my ebon black robes of supreme power again, which were the only clothes I'd managed to salvage from Zarfang by virtue of the fact I was wearing them when I got kicked out. Maybe the camouflage effect would work better when we'd got out of town, because people had been giving me some funny looks on the way over.

"Hello there, Maevrin. Ready for the secret mission?"

"Yeah. Are you ready to go?"

"Not quite. I've got a gnome coming with me. Hold on, here he comes now!"

A small, pointy-hatted figure was making its jaunty way across the square. Then, a enormous, shambling figure loomed into view behind it. My heart sank.

"I thought you said this was a secret mission?" said Maevrin with a vague, half-hearted sort of sarcasm that spoke of her already getting used to this sort of thing happening. Nigel's grinning features came into view, framed by the unappetising bulk of Gorgrod the troll. Why does everything have to work out like this? I bet you're getting sick of it, so just think how I feel.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed at Nigel, as soon as he was close enough, "This isn't even funny! How the hell are we going to sneak around with that great lump stomping about? You can hear his bloody stomach rumbling over the other side of town! No offence, of course, Gorgrod," I added hastily, though the troll didn't appear offended. In fact, he looked even more vacant than usual, and I suspected Nigel had fished him out of the pub on the way over here. Oh, god.

"Well," smirked Nigel, "You said I could have anything spare from your old house, right? You didn't say I had to carry it myself, did you? 'Sides, Gorgrod's pretty stealthy when he wants to be, right?"

Gorgrod leered at me.

"Yeah, I'm dead stealthy, me."

I sighed.

"Alright, then. OK, fine," I said, waving my hands about, exasperated. "See if I care. It's not as if the whole 'living' thing is all it's cracked up to be."

"HELLO EVERYONE! WE'RE GOING ON A MISSION!" I bellowed across the square, "IF YOU SEE ANY MELTY PUDDLES ETCHED INTO THE LANSDCAPE, THAT'S US! STICK A FEW TOMBSTONES ON THERE, WE'D BE MUCH OBLIDGED!"

An old cleaning lady, complete with mop gave me a dirty look as she hurried by on her way home. I sighed.

"Have you finished?" said Nigel. "You know your problem, mate, you're too up tight. You got to chill out a bit." he waved his hands about vaguely and bent his knees slightly, presumably to indicate geezerdom. "You got to chill, you know, like me. Yeah. Don't worry about nothing, I've got a plan, OK? A plan, bit of an old Gnome trick."

"Oh, really. What would that be?"

"My Uncle Trevor mixes up this stuff, secret recipe with eleven herbs and spices. Rub it over yourself, and you becomes slightly invisible."

"Slightly invisible?" I said, feeling another one of my spasms coming on. A witty comeback would probably have been called for at that point, but unfortunately my brain had already entered the death spiral of doom, and one was not forthcoming.

"Yeah, when we get close, we'll just stick a bit of this on ourselves, then we'll be sorted. So just chill, OK, and lead on."

There didn't seem to be anything else for it. And thus, our intrepid band set out, our destination: adventure!

***

The journey to Zarfang isn't an amazingly scenic one on a nice sunny day, so you can imagine that it wasn't exactly pleasant on a dark, albeit moonlit night. We tried our best to get across the edge of the Swamp of Unending Festerment without sinking in. The moonlight glinted off the Swamp of Unending Festerment Gift Shop, closed of course, more's the pity. Honestly, the stuff you can get in that place...

The Shadowed Forest of Eternal Night posed something more of a challenge, looming like a great wave of inky black against the starry sky, but after a bit of straining and grimacing, I managed to get a bit of light to shine from the end of my finger once again, much to everyone's surprise. I would have waggled my eyebrows in an "I bet you thought I wasn't a real wizard" kind of way, if I hadn't been worried the the legendary BLACK MANGLER BEAST might actually turn out to be real, and attracted to shiny things unexpectedly floating about in the pitch black forest. After what seemed like an eternity watching the shadows slide in disturbing shapes across the murky outlines of the tree trunks, we came out into the familiar sight of the good old blasted/howling wastes. Yes, thinking back, during that happy time before I'd been obliged to hang around with the current bunch of weirdos, the geography of this place had made welcome layers of defences around my splendid isolation. I suppose it might be acting as a bit of an annoying barrier now, but it still felt like coming home.

The moonlight shone starkly across the craggy boulders and crumbling cliffs, throwing them into sharp relief as we clambered our way gingerly towards our objective. I couldn't help feeling that the bright light of the moon was making us horribly visible against the pale rock, and it didn't help that Gorgrod's great hobnail boots were scattering lumps of it noisily about the landscape. As you're probably well aware, they call it the howling waste due to the awful howling winds that are so common here, but on this occasion, the weather was perfectly still, which only served to make me more and more uneasy. We passed by Mrs Fengleworth's cottage - a light was on faintly in the window, so I knew she must have been in there, and alright. I fought back a momentary pang of guilt that I hadn't come over and visited her since I moved away, then carried on our steady progress.

My nerves were not helped when we suddenly encountered a great, black rend in the landscape, a jagged, twisted trench that we had to clamber into to cross - it could only have been made by Eldrigar's magic. The rock at the bottom had been melted smooth and shiny, like volcanic glass, and the edges of the trench were scattered with broken shards of stone where the ground had exploded outwards. Not for the first time, I thought of turning back. Even Nigel's seemingly inexhaustible supply of optimism seemed to be running low, even though he didn't really know anything about what was going on. After a few more minutes, we had reached the foot of the shallow hill that overlooked my ex home. There was a bitter, burnt smell in the air, and I could make out the hint of a dark, shapeless mist that seemed to be rising slowly behind the hill. The reason for that became apparent as we came over the crest of the rise.

There was Zarfang, its familiar shape clear in the moonlight, completely unchanged from when I'd last seen it. But it now stood amidst the most incredible devastation imaginable. The ground around it had been torn, ripped, pounded and wrenched into a great, swirling sea of contorted stone. The tower stood in the middle of it all, as if in the eye of a silent hurricane, mist still rising all about it.

It was moments like that that can really put you off just about everything. What a scene! I half expected to see Frodo and Sam wandering by. To make matters even worse, Eldrigar's tower was clearly visible in the background, but its apex now appeared to pulse and crackle with unspeakable amounts of occult power, sending out sparks and arcs of energy and filling the air with a disturbing low-pitched humming sound.

It seemed about time to rally my troops, seeing as they were staring aghast at the view in front of them, just like I'd been doing. I motioned them back behind a handy rock, and prepared to address them.

"Bloody hell!" said Nigel, before I could think of what to say "What's going on down there! Was it like that when you left it?"

"No, of course it wasn't!" I replied irritably, "I'd hardly have lived there in the middle of that, would I?"

"Alright, alright! Calm down! Anyway, I'm not going down there, not for any money!"

"Oh come on," I said, trying to convince myself as much as him, "That terrain should help us sneak over there unseen, I only want to have a quick look and see if I can get it. I've still got the key to that place in my pocket - I had it when I left. And what happened to that invisibility stuff you were talking about before?"

"Oh, yeah," he said, "Yeah, I suppose we can try it out."

He began rummaging in a leather bag he had with him, and passed us each a small bottle containing a thick, brown liquid.

"Here you go. You just rub a little bit of this on you, and you become slightly invisible."

"Hey," I said, "Nigel, it wasn't the uncle with the upside-down eyebrows that gave you this, was it?"

Nigel shook his head.

"Nah, nah, mate, that's a whole other uncle."

I rubbed a bit of the stuff on the front of my robe. Nothing appeared to be happening, and the others looked just as viable as ever. I took an experimental sniff at the bottle.

"Err, Nigel, are you sure this isn't just some kind of barbecue sauce?"

Nigel took a look at the bottle.

"Nah, guaranteed magic potion this, just happens to look like barbecue sauce. It's the secret herbs and spices what makes you invisible. Plus, it's not as if we're going to look invisible to each other, now is it?"

"Well, if you're sure. If you ask me it just looks like were all messy eaters."

I realised Maevrin had been silent through all this.

"Maevrin, what do you think about all this? I take it you're still coming with us, right?"

Maevrin looked doubtful.

"I suppose so," she said, "I just think, the first thing we should do when we get back is tell the authorities about this Eldrigar. It's not like he's done anything illegal blowing up stuff in the middle of nowhere, but you can tell just by looking at what he's done over there that he's not normal."

"Yeah, I suppose your right," I said, "To tell you the truth, I found something in a book the other day along those lines, I'll tell you about it later."

I looked at her suspiciously, trying to figure out what she was thinking behind those spectacles of hers.

"You know, you don't have to come if you don't want to - you can tell yourself it's probably going to be dangerous."

Maevrin looked down at her feet.

"Well, you know, something to do, isn't it...."

"Well, I'm very grateful. Still, don't feel you have to come just because you feel sorry for me loosing my house," I grinned, "I'm a past master of feeling sorry for myself, so that job's already taken."

I didn't get to find out what Maevrin would have replied to this idiotic line, as Gorgrod jumped in front of me, shouting "YARGH! I'M INVISIBLE" and the next minute was spent frantically shutting him up and looking around wildly to see if anyone had heard his voice. Luckily, the coast appeared to be clear, so I decided it was time we made our attempted entry of Zarfang. I realised, gratifyingly, that the others were looking at me like some kind of leader - presumably my earlier display of magical prowess had impressed them a bit. See, I told you I could command minions. I knew I'd come through in the end....

We slunk as carefully as we could over the hill, then began to clamber awkwardly over the broken land. The stone was still hot to the touch and smoking in places, and had a odd, unnatural touch to it, as if something fundamental in its structure had been disturbed. Yes, I did know what we were doing was insane, but I had become fed up with shuffling around in Tumberwell being bored. Who knew what was going on in Eldrigar's mind, or what he expected me to do, if anything? All I knew was I wanted my stuff back.

At last, with many a worried look in the direction of Eldrigar's tower, as well as many a scraped knee, we arrived at the front door of my beloved home.

All appeared to be quiet. I couldn't believe we'd managed to get this far. It was truly remarkable - the tower was completely untouched, not even scorched, nothing. The damage appeared to end in a precise ring around the building about ten centimetres away from its foot, even some old papers I'd left beside the door were still there, right where I'd left them. Oh dear, strange things were definitely afoot, but how was I supposed to know what? I stepped gingerly towards the door, stretching my hand out to the invisible protective line. As my hand crossed it, nothing happened. Eldrigar's tower made an unnerving rumbling sound behind me as I slipped the key in the door, while the others watched eagerly.

The door opened normally, just as it had hundreds of times. We entered. Everything was dark, and when I tried the light switch, it didn't work. Quickly, despite the dark, I pushed my way back through the others, shut the door behind us and locked it again.

"Don't worry," I said, "I'll make a bit of light so we can see what we're doing."

You know, isn't it really annoying how fiddly things always go wrong right when you specifically say you're about to do them? Try as I might, I couldn't make the light appear. There was an impatient shuffling kind of sound.

"Well, sorry, OK, it didn't work this time. Let's just try to find our way about as best as we can."

My eyes were getting used to the darkness, and I could just about make out where I was going as I advanced up the hallway. The place seemed bizarre in the darkness, larger somehow, familiar yet abnormal. As I crept past the foot of the stairs, I nearly jumped out of my skin. Something moved at the top of the stairs, a small, squat figure scuttled away rapidly just when I looked up at it. Could it possibly be...

"Grott?" I called, "Is that you?"

"Did you see something up there?", whispered Maevrin.

"Yeah, if my eyes didn't play tricks on me, I think that was Grott. We should go up and look for him. I wonder why he didn't come and meet us?"

"Look," whispered Nigel, "I don't know who this Grott is, but I'm after as much stuff as I can carry and a quick run home, so whatever we do, let's get it over with."

"OK, OK," I whispered tersely, "We can start upstairs. I want my potion kit and spell books most of all, anyway. Come on."

We climbed carefully up the long, spiral staircase, eventually reaching the landing adjoining my room. Everything was still and silent. I slid the door open and went in, the others following behind me.

No sooner had we entered, when the lights came on, blindingly bright after our long time in the darkness. When my eyes had stopped smarting, who should I see standing before us, but Grott himself! Despite his lamentably disloyal behaviour before, I was delighted to see him again. He was standing in the corner of the room, with a curiously piercing expression on his face. Just as I was about to speak, something happened that caught me totally by surprise.

"Well well," said Grott in a thin, slightly squeaky but brisk voice, "I've been expecting you."


***

Well, I'll let you know what happened next when I've got a chance to write it. Oh yes, and thank you Chootoobacca, whoever you are. Toodle pip for now!