Ah, the good old days, thought Dirk to himself.
Dirk found Sooz’s cell fairly easily. He unlocked it and strode in. Sooz was sitting in the corner, writing. She looked up in surprise – and immediately rose to her feet and pointed an accusing finger at Dirk.
‘You lied to me, you lying liar!’ she said.
‘And your point is?’ said Dirk.
‘And you locked me up and let me get kidnapped by vampires. How could you?’ said Sooz.
‘Dark Lord,’ was all Dirk said, shrugging a ‘what do you expect?’ shrug.
Sooz narrowed her eyes and bunched her fists.
‘Ooooh…you…’
‘At least I’ve come to rescue you, haven’t I?’ said Dirk.
‘And what took you so long? I’ve been in here for days!’ snapped Sooz.
‘My mum…’ said Dirk, frowning.
‘What, Mrs Purejoie? Don’t tell me she really was kidnapped!’ said Sooz, her anger turning to shocked concern.
‘No, no, my real mum. Maybe. If it’s really her,’ said Dirk, looking a tad forlorn, tears welling up in his eyes. And that was a rare thing indeed, Dirk getting all choked up.
Sooz’s face changed from anger to compassion in a moment. She couldn’t help herself – she went up and put an arm around him.
‘Tell me about your mum,’ said Sooz. ‘What’s her name, for a start?’
‘Oksana the Pale,’ said Dirk.
‘What’s she like? Nice? Kind? Like most mums – you know, looks after you and puts a plaster on your cuts? Nothing like mumsy hugs to make you feel better, right?’ said Sooz.
‘Ah…umm… No, not really. And as for cuts… Not a plaster so much as… Well…it’s really best not to get cut in front of her,’ said Dirk.
‘What’s her second name?’ said Sooz.
‘It’s more of a title really,’ said Dirk, uncomfortably.
‘Really? She’s like an aristocrat or something?’
‘Yes, you could say that. Her full title is…well, it’s “Dread Mistress of the Underworld”…style of thing,’ said Dirk.
‘Oh!’ said Sooz in surprised tones. Her arm dropped, as she put a hand to her mouth.
‘Right… And what does she…well, do?’ said Sooz.
‘She’s a vampire. A queen of the vampires in fact. Unfortunate, but there you go,’ said Dirk.
‘Oh, I see. Actually that makes…sense…’ said Sooz, looking a little embarrassed. ‘So, she’s still alive, after…what, how many years?’
‘Thousands,’ said Dirk, ‘but to be honest I’m not entirely sure if it really is her. It could be some kind of trick by the Headmaster of Doom to get me to do what he wants. Or maybe it is her and she’s just getting a bit forgetful with old age. I mean, she really is old and she got brought back to life and stuff. That can cause memory loss, I’m sure.’
‘If it’s a trick, that’s cruel. Very cruel,’ said Sooz.
‘Well, yes. But then Grousammer is a Dark Lord, after all. Anyway, we have to get going. What were you writing – a letter?’ said Dirk, walking over to take a look. There was a sheaf of papers, covered in Sooz’s handwriting.
SUSAN BLACK
Your punishment for your gross insubordination and rebellious attitude:
1: Rehabilitation in the Borstal Wing
2: Writing out 1,000 times:
‘I will not wear make-up and jewellery in school assembly and I will never talk back to the Dark Headmaster again.’
‘Hah, I see, the usual reasons, even when you were back home on earth. At least I’ve saved you from having to write that out a thousand times,’ said Dirk.
‘Yup, at least there’s that. Now let’s get out of here!’
Together they made their way up to the entrance. The two Orc prefects were fast asleep, their bellies distended and swollen, having stuffed their faces with every last sweet on the tray.
Agrash was there too, looking rather pleased that he had been able to take out two Orcs on his own. With sweets.
‘Aggie!’ said Sooz, rushing over to give the Goblin a hug.
‘Mistress, it is good to see you. I can’t wait to get out of here and back to your earth, where I can rap in your band again!’
Dirk stared in amusement as they hugged. Agrash’s nose stuck out over Sooz’s shoulder and a little drop of snot fell down her back.
‘Yeah, Aggy Z, back in da house!’ said Sooz, leaning back and laughing.
Agrash thrashed his right hand down in a kind of ‘gangsta’ gesture, but he did it too vigorously, and this time it was a spray of snot that flew from the end of his nose.
Sooz leaped back in disgust.
‘Sorry, my lady,’ said Agrash, pulling a filthy handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping his long, green, warty nose.
‘Well, what a charming reunion! Anyway, time to move on, folks – we’ve got to get out of here and meet up with Gargon,’ said Dirk.
‘Old Gargy too? Great!’ said Sooz.
‘Yeah, he’s going to fly you out of here. Now, being an Evil Genius and all that, I chose today for the breakout because it’s Bad Sports Day at the School of Evil. So most of the Orcs and Goblins will be playing stuff like Rugby Deathball, Foothead, Running for your Life, Wrathletics and stuff.’
‘Bad Sports Day? Really?’ said Sooz.
‘Yeah, don’t ask! Anyway, we should be able to walk out of here unnoticed. Then Gargon can fly you back to the White Tower where you’ll be safe with Christopher.’
‘Christopher! Is he still…?’ said Sooz, accusingly.
‘Yes, yes, he’s still a freakin’ saint,’ said Dirk.
‘You should never have done that to him!’ said Sooz.
‘All right, all right, but for now, can we just get you home? Is that OK?’
‘What do mean, “get me home”? Aren’t you coming?’ said Sooz.
‘No, I’m staying here with my mum,’ said Dirk.
‘Are you sure? Won’t you get in trouble for breaking me out?’
‘Maybe, if anyone finds out. Or maybe I can persuade Mum to leave too. I dunno,’ said Dirk. ‘I haven’t really worked that bit out yet.’
They headed up the stairs to the main entrance of the Iron Tower, a large circular chamber with an ebon floor of shiny black marble that threw up a ghostly glow when anyone stood on it, to light their way. All around the chamber, doors led off to various places – kitchens, servants’ quarters, barracks, administrative offices and so on. Two great staircases climbed up to the Great Hall of Gloom, or the Assembly Hall of Gloom as Grousammer had renamed it.
The great Gates of Doom that led out to the outside were open at the moment and bright sunlight spilled into the chamber. Beyond, on the Training Grounds, masses of Orcs and Goblins were milling around watching various sporting displays and games.
Out of the shadows stepped a hideous winged figure, smoke snorting from its nostrils, demon-faced, red-eyed and fanged.
‘Gargy!’ screamed Sooz.
A big smile split Gargon’s monster face as Sooz ran over to greet him with a hug.
‘My lady, so good to see you safe!’ said Gargon, tenderly.
Dirk shook his head. OK, it was one thing to see Sooz being matey with a Goblin, but having a seven-foot tall demon as one of your BFFs? That was something else, he thought. Also, it annoyed him that Gargon was loyal to her and not to him any more. OK, he’d kind of forgiven Gargon for betraying him – Dirk would have done the same, after all – but still. It irked. Why Sooz over him?
Anyway, what could he do? Time to move on.
‘OK then, let’s get outside. As soon as we’re in open space, Gargon can fly away with Sooz.’
Sooz’s eyes widened with worry. ‘All the way to the White Tower?’
‘Gargon not able to fly that long with my lady, but we just have to make it to the Scarp Hills at the edge of Plains. Shouldn’t be too hard. Maybe we must rest along the way after that.’
‘Well, doesn’t that sound just dandy,’ said a vo
ice and into the chamber stepped Oksana, Dirk’s mother. ‘Planning to sneak off without telling your mother, eh? You naughty boy!’
‘Mum, no, no!’ said Dirk, his face full of guilty panic. ‘I wasn’t sneaking off, just—’
‘Just breaking that juvenile delinquent out of jail without the headmaster’s permission?’ said Oksana, pointing at Sooz with a long-nailed finger and edging a little closer.
Sooz moved nearer to Gargon, who put a protective arm around her.
Dirk stepped behind Agrash without thinking.
‘Hey!’ said Agrash, hopping back behind Dirk.
Oksana smiled a fanged smile at their antics, clearly enjoying the fear in their eyes.
‘Well, you’ve got me there, but… Look, Mum, we don’t have to stay here! My friends can go back to the Commonwealth where they’ll be safe – and you and me, we could go home! Go back to Sunless Keep where we could live away from all this. What do you say?’
‘We can’t do that, dear – after all, I owe the Headmaster of Doom. He did bring me back with that…umm…that spell thingy,’ said Oksana.
Dirk frowned. ‘Wait a minute…’ he said slowly. ‘You just walked in here!’
‘Eh? So?’ said Oksana.
‘It’s blazing sunlight outside. You shouldn’t be able to go out on a cloudy day, let alone in that!’ said Dirk.
Oksana’s face fell. ‘Errr…the headmaster, he did another spell thing to let me walk in the sun!’
‘No way!’ said Dirk, stepping forward. ‘You’re not my mum, are you? It’s all a lie!’
‘No, no, dear, of course I am. You’re my little Dark Lordling, really, you are, my little black-hearted sweetheart, you know it’s true,’ said Oksana. Now it was her turn to step back.
‘Lies! You can’t remember who my father is! You can’t even remember how you died! And you’re just strolling about in the sun like it’s nothing. You’re not even a vampire, are you?’ shouted Dirk accusingly.
‘Shut up, you naughty boy!’ said an increasingly desperate-sounding Oksana. ‘Go to your room, now, and then to bed without any supper!’
‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous, I’m not ten years old any more. I’m not even a hundred years old any more!’ said Dirk.
Sooz, Gargon and Agrash were following the exchange in open-mouthed fascination, their heads moving back and forth as if they were at a tennis match.
‘You’re going to be in so much trouble…’ said Oksana, wagging her finger at Dirk.
‘Shut up!’ screamed Dirk so forcefully that Oksana had no choice but to fall silent.
Dirk went on. ‘You’re not my mother! You’re not even a vampire. I can’t believe I fell for this nonsense. I’m not having it any more, I’m not working for that old fraud Grousammer!’
Oksana put a hand to her mouth in shock. ‘Don’t say that!’ she hissed.
‘I’m not going to give up on the Throne of Skulls, it’s mine, and I’m going to take it back from the usurper. Headmaster? Bah! He’s nothing but a beardless loon!’ said Dirk.
Sooz and Gargon and Agrash exchanged smiling glances. It looked like their old Dirk was back!
Suddenly Oksana snarled, ‘You will fail! And be thrown into the pit, where you will rot until the headmaster decides to cane you to death with 666 of the best!’
And then she began to change… Her body started to morph and shift like an animated clay figure. Everyone stared in surprise as her legs seemed to merge together to form a long green-scaled snake body with the torso and head of a woman. She had long brown hair and grey-green eyes, and two little horns on her forehead.
‘Lucina the Lamia!’ said Agrash.
‘A shape changer! Hah, that explains it, you’re not my mum – you never were!’ said Dirk.
‘Of course not, you stupid boy, I’m a Lamia, and I serve the real Dark Lord, not some pitiful earth kid who just thinks he’s a Dark Lord!’ said Lucina.
Gargon stepped forward and growled. Lucina went pale. Instantly she darted back and slithered as fast as she could out of the door.
‘Stop her,’ said Dirk, ‘she’ll warn the others!’
Gargon leaped forward, but it was too late. Lucina was already out of the main gate and shouting for help. Agrash, Sooz, Dirk and Gargon raced out after her, but she started changing shape once more – within a moment she was a cheetah, and racing away faster than any of them could possibly run.
It was just as well it was Bad Sports Day. All the ‘school pupils’ were watching the games and were making a lot of noise, cheering and shouting. Lucina hadn’t got to them yet, but it was only a matter of time…
‘There’s no time to waste – take Sooz and fly, Gargon, fly!’ said Dirk.
‘Yes, Master!’ he said.
‘But what about you and Aggy?’ said Sooz.
‘Don’t worry about us, I’ll think of something,’ said Dirk.
‘By my nose, I hope so!’ said Agrash.
‘Go,’ said Dirk to the other two. ‘There’s nothing you can do here anyway!’
Sooz nodded, turned to Gargon and put her arms up. He tenderly picked her up and flapped skyward.
‘See you laterrrr…’ said Sooz, her voice fading away on the wind.
‘I hope you can think of a good plan, your Slyness,’ said Agrash, wiping his nose (it dripped even more when he was stressed). Peering towards the training grounds, Dirk and Agrash could see that Lucina had reached what looked like a little podium overlooking the Rugby Deathball field (ogre scrums, Orcish backs, Goblin wingers, captured human referee). Grousammer would be sitting there, no doubt.
‘I knew that old fraud Grousammer wasn’t good enough to find a spell that could have brought my real mother back to life. He couldn’t have been better than me, never!’
‘Come on, Sire, forget about all that, we need a cunning plan…now!’ muttered Agrash, nibbling at the yellowing nail of his green Goblin thumb.
‘What? Oh yes, of course.’ Dirk grabbed Agrash by the shoulder. ‘Follow me!’ he yelled and they began to run round the tower, heading for the rear area. Dirk took a look over his shoulder. He could see Grousammer standing up, towering over the Orcs and Goblins around him. He was clearly shouting and pointing over at the tower. A force of Orcs began to head over in their direction…
‘Faster!’ said Dirk, and they dashed around the tower. Soon they were running into the shadows at the rear, out of the sun.
‘Where…’ Pant, pant… ‘Are we…’ Pant, pant… ‘Going…?’ gasped Agrash.
‘Shut up and save your breath,’ said Dirk, just as he turned into a wide-open doorway set into the base of the back of the tower.
‘Ah,’ said Agrash, ‘the Dark Stables!’
‘Yup,’ said Dirk, dashing in. The stable was lined with several large stalls, some of them holding enormous black stallions. But they weren’t ordinary stallions, oh no. They were NightMares, with yellow eyes, iron hooves, shiny black coats and breath that snorted from their nostrils in sulphurous clouds.
Dirk opened one of the stalls and out leaped a stallion with an echoing, hellish neigh. It pawed the ground with its hooves, setting off sparks from the cobbled yard.
Dirk put his hand up and stroked its muzzle.
‘Blackheart, my beauty,’ said Dirk, ‘do you remember me?’
The horse snuffled in recognition. He would always know his master, no matter what form he took. It was Dirk who had created the NightMares, breeding them from ordinary horses, adding a touch of black magic and a hint of hell, so long ago that even he’d forgotten when.
‘We must fly away from here, Blackheart,’ said Dirk, and he swung himself up and on to the horse’s back. The horse whinnied a spectral greeting, eager to be on the move.
‘Agrash, let’s go!’ said Dirk, reaching down a hand and hauling up the little Goblin to sit behind him. They looked like two little dolls on the back of a great, black rocking horse.
‘Run, Blackheart, run,’ said Dirk into the NightMare’s ear.
B
lackheart rose up on his hind legs, gave a great whinny and galloped out of the stables at breakneck speed, hooves throwing up sparks at every step, nostrils snorting out smoky clouds of sulphur, yellow eyes blazing. Dirk had to wrap his hands into Blackheart’s streaming mane, whilst Agrash had to fasten both his arms around Dirk to stay on.
They hurtled away out of the tower.
‘To the Borderlands, Blackheart, to the Borderlands, and then on to the White Tower!’ said Dirk. They burst out of the lee of the tower into bright sunlight…and almost into the arms of a company of Orcs! There was Skabber Stormfart, the Orc prefect, and at least twenty more behind him.
Blackheart veered away, but Skabber was right there, big, hulking and strong. He darted in and reached up to Dirk, about to pluck him off Blackheart’s back!
But Skabber missed his grab – deliberately, it seemed to Dirk – and fell to the ground, making it look as though he had tried and failed, rather than just letting Dirk get away, which Dirk thought must have been in his heart. The other Orcs seemed unconvinced but it didn’t matter – Blackheart surged away, his hooves pounding the ground like hammers on an anvil. Soon they were racing away into the distance. Behind them they could hear the voice of Grousammer.
‘NOOOOOOoooooooooooo!’
Dirk grinned, put his head back, and let out a happy ‘Mwah, hah, hah!’ And then he frowned. What was that dribbling down his back, making his shirt all sticky? No…not…it couldn’t be – aargh, it was! Snot!
‘Agrash, you filthy little Goblin!’ said a disgusted Dirk.
‘I’m sorry, Master, I’m sorry, all that excitement was just too much for me!’
Dirk was sitting in his room in the White Tower, staring out the window. Agrash, Gargon, Sooz and Dirk had all made it safely back, Gargon flying Sooz home, and Dirk and Agrash travelling all the way on Blackheart’s mighty back.
Blackheart had been stabled in the White Tower but the grooms had a bit of a hard time with him. He didn’t really fit in with the rest of the horses (all the Paladins of the Whiteshields were mounted on white stallions, naturally), and in the end Dirk had to tell him to go home on his own. He’d be fine once he got back to the Dark Stables. That was where he belonged. And nobody was going to give him any trouble along the way. Wolves avoided NightMares. Actually, everything avoided NightMares if they could.
The Headmaster of Doom Page 9
