‘Now, Dirk, please, you can’t really expect us to believe that the headmaster is really a wizard from another world who attacked you with a sword, now can you?’ said Wings.
Dirk had no answer to that. He didn’t expect them to believe him, no. In fact, all he wanted to do was to get this over with as quickly as possible so he could find out what Dave had brought back for him from Agrash in the Darklands.
‘We know that you did that to yourself, Dirk, your father told us,’ said Randle.
‘Foster father!’ said Dirk without thinking.
‘Ah, is that it? You’re angry about being fostered, maybe want to see your own father?’ said Wings.
‘And that’s why you’re self-harming? Now we’re getting somewhere!’ said Randle.
Dirk raised his eyes – what a pair of simpletons! And then he noticed something. The cupboard door inched open…and out came a long, green nose. It sniffed the air…
Dirk stared in fascination. Wings and Randle followed his gaze – the nose retracted in an instant before they could see anything. Dirk looked back at them. He sighed.
‘Yes, yes, that’s it, I cut myself because I miss my real parents…’ said Dirk. If he just agreed with everything they said, it would be over all the sooner, though he added under his breath, ‘Notwithstanding the fact that my real parents have been dead for thousands of years.’
Dirk saw something out of the corner of his eye…. A knobbly green and hairy arm, reaching out from inside the cupboard. His heart began to beat. What if they turned round now…
Dirk felt a terrible urge to giggle.
‘What about the gun, Dirk, do you want to talk about that?’ said Wings.
‘The gun? An obvious cheap lie from that madman Hasdruban…umm…wait… Oh, all right, yes, I was going to…errr…shoot it off! You know, somewhere safe, of course. Just to get attention, and that,’ said Dirk, though why anyone in the world would do that just to get attention escaped him. Humans were weird, though, they’d probably believe it.
Skinrash’s hand was getting closer and closer to Wings’ jacket pocket.
‘Aha! I knew it,’ said Randle. ‘This is excellent work, Dirk, we are really going places now!’
Dirk choked out a laugh as Skinrash’s hand darted into Wings’ pocket, plucked out the bag of sweets and disappeared back into the cupboard.
Wings frowned. ‘What’s so funny, Dirk?’ he said, oblivious to the loss of his precious wine gums.
‘Oh, nothing, nothing,’ said Dirk.
Suddenly, a small black spot appeared out of nowhere in the air between the three of them. Dirk looked up at it in panic. Wings and Randle stared in astonishment. It grew a little bigger, and then, with a loud popping noise, Dave the Storm Crow flew into the room. It circled about, flapping wildly, cawed like a tormented soul, and then flew out the window. The black spot winked out.
Wings and Randle continued to stare, open-mouthed. Dirk couldn’t help himself and giggled a bit.
Wings stuttered, ‘What in blue…’
‘…blazes was that!’ finished Randle.
Dirk pulled himself together. He had to bluff this one out. ‘Just a bird,’ he said. ‘A crow – lives on the roof over the road, comes in here from time to time, flies around and out again,’ said Dirk, staring at them. How were they going to react?
‘Right,’ said Wings. ‘Yes, of course, just flew in through the window…’
‘Yeah,’ said Randle. ‘Must have. Must have. I mean, I didn’t see… Umm… Wings, did you see…a…’
Wings stared at him. ‘No, can’t have. Can’t have seen a…thing… No, I saw a crow fly in through the window and out again, that’s all.’
‘Yes, of course you did. And so did I! Yes, of course,’ said Randle.
‘Now, well…that’s settled…’ said a still flummoxed Wings.
‘Onwards and upwards, eh?’ said Randle.
Dirk smiled a wry smile. Most amusing. They couldn’t handle it! Had to pretend it hadn’t happened. What a pair. Dirk glanced over at the cupboard. It’d be fun to let Skinrash out, see how they coped with that…
But no, that might be pushing it a bit.
‘Anyway, I think our time is done here, don’t you, Wings?’ said Randle.
‘Quite so, quite so,’ said Wings, as they got up together to leave. ‘We’ll see you next time, young man.’
As they moved to the door, Wings reached into his pocket for a wine gum. But there was nothing there… He came to a stop. He raised his eyes. Clenched a fist. Then he turned to Randle.
‘Give them back!’ he said.
‘What?’ said Randle. ‘What are you on about?’
‘I’ll say this once and only once. Give them back now, or by heaven I’ll…’ said a red-faced Wings.
Dirk got up and opened the door for them.
‘You blithering imbecile, what are you on about now?’ said Randle, which only enraged Wings further.
Gently, Dirk ushered Randle out into the corridor. Wings followed. ‘Damn you for a thieving devil, Randle, I know it was you – who else would it be?’
‘By Jove, Wings, you’ve really lost it this time, haven’t you!’ said Randle as Dirk softly shut the door.
‘Why, you..!’ and then there was a crash, a bang, and a lot of shouting. Dirk couldn’t control himself any more and burst out laughing. He opened the cupboard door, and there was Skinrash, stuffing his face with wine gums, and grinning up at Dirk happily.
‘That went well, your Dirkness,’ said Skinrash. ‘Num, num, num!’
‘Leave some black ones for me, you little green gobber,’ said Dirk, patting him on the head, though on second thoughts, he probably shouldn’t eat anything that had been handled by Skinrash. And he’d have to wash the hand that had done the patting.
Dirk left Skinrash to his face stuffing, and called in Dave the Storm Crow from outside the window. It was carrying a message from the Darklands, as Dirk had hoped. The Dark Library’s Deadly Poisons section was probably the best possible place you could go to find out about poison and Agrash had completed an in-depth analysis. The Black Hag’s poison was called the ‘Malefic Taint’ and various ingredients were involved – principally Black Oleander,Orcsbane (both only grew in the Darklands), Nightshade and Hemlock (which also grew on Earth). All of these ingredients were to be found in a little bottle strapped to Dave’s leg. Agrash warned against touching any of them directly. ‘Andel wiv care’ had been daubed on it in crude Goblin writing.
Dirk put a hand to his chin and smiled. It would have been hard to work out how to create an antidote back in his Alchemical Lab in the Iron Tower, but here on Earth? Even the school chemistry lab was leagues ahead of his, and the amount of information about how to make antidotes and antitoxins just on the internet alone, freely there for all to see, would make the job almost easy.
Well, provided you were an evil genius like him, of course! Without thinking, Dirk put his hands together and let rip with one of his trademark Evil Laughs.
‘MWAH, HAH, HAH!’
‘Oh, do be quiet, Dirk,’ said Mrs Purejoie from just outside the door. ‘Anyway, would you open up please, your washing’s done.’
‘Excellent, my minion,’ said Dirk, as he rose to his feet. ‘It is good that you have brought my washing. When I conquer all, at least it will be in a nice clean shirt.’
‘Yes, yes, very funny,’ said Mrs Purejoie as she came into the room, arms full of Dirk’s clothes. ‘It took ages to get that nasty green stuff out of your dressing gown – I do wish you’d be more careful, Dirkikins.’
Mrs Purejoie dumped the clothes on his bed, turned and reached for the cupboard door. Dirk eyes widened with horror. Of course, she was going to hang everything up in the cupboard! Before he could say a word, she had yanked the door open…
…to see Skinrash, frozen in fright, warty hand halfway up to his mouth, about to pop another wine gum in, eyes swivelled up in shock at the sight of her, face a mask of caught-in-the-act Goblin guilt.
Mrs Purejoie blinked in astonishment. Then she simply slumped to the floor in a dead faint.
Dirk stared at the body on the floor for a moment, thinking furiously.
‘Quick, Skinrash,’ he barked, ‘under the bed with you, now!’
‘Yes, Master,’ said Skinrash, darting past the prone Purejoie and into the darkness beneath the bed.
‘Don’t come out, and whatever you do don’t make a sound! Not even a single wine gum slurp! I mean it, I really Dark Lord mean it, you understand?!’
‘Yes, Master,’ said a cowed Skinrash.
‘Jack, Jack!’ Dirk shouted. ‘Hilary’s fainted!’ Seconds later, Dr Jack came running into the room.
‘Hilary!’ he gasped as he knelt down behind her. Dirk stepped back and folded his arms, observing. Dr Jack was instinctively doing the doctor thing, checking her pulse, lifting up her eyelids. Tenderly he picked her up and laid her on the bed.
Dirk frowned. He had to admit, they clearly loved each other. Also, they’d been good to him, never hit him, tortured him, tried to kill him with a sword, chain him up, burn him out of his home, throw holy water in his face or hire assassins to hunt him down and kill him. None of that.
‘She just fainted, Jack,’ said Dirk. ‘Maybe she’s tired, not eating properly with that church charity thing she keeps going on about that’s been taking up all her time. And carrying all that washing, it’s very heavy.’
Mrs Purejoie began to whimper a little.
‘Hilary, can you hear me?’ said Jack.
‘I’ll put the clothes away,’ said Dirk. ‘We don’t want to overwork her, she needs rest, right? Or is there something else I can do – anything? I want to help.’
‘No, that’s fine, Dirk, thank you, you’re a good boy, you really are,’ said Jack as he stroked Mrs Purejoie’s brow.
Dirk grinned a bit at that. True, he was laying it on, but actually…you couldn’t say that he loved the Purejoies, or even liked them that much, but he certainly didn’t wish them any harm. Well, perhaps he liked them a little. When they weren’t actually around, that is. You know, that sort of thing.
Mrs Purejoie came to – and shrieked! ‘Argh! There’s a…a thing! A thing in the cupboard!’
‘A thing? What do you mean?’ said Jack.
‘A…creaturey thing, like one of those Goblins – a Goblin eating wine gums in the cupboard!’ she wailed.
‘What…’ said Jack, turning to look at the cupboard. Dirk looked at Jack, a sympathetic expression on his face. He opened the cupboard door and pointed at its empty bareness.
‘’Fraid not,’ he said, shaking his head.
Jack looked back. ‘It’s some kind of hallucination, dear, just like the last time with the lenses.’
‘No! No, I saw it, in the cupboard,’ she said.
‘Now, now, my love. A Goblin, for a start… But eating wine gums? Really?’ said Jack.
Mrs Purejoie wrinkled her brow. Then her face fell. ‘Yes, yes, of course…’ She looked up at her husband, her face uncertain and fearful. ‘Do you think…do you think I’m going mad, maybe losing my mind?’
‘No, no, dear, of course not,’ said Dr Jack tenderly. ‘You’re probably overworked and overtired, making you see things. You’ll be fine, I’m sure!’
‘But why a Goblin?’ she said.
Jack flicked a glance at Dirk. ‘Well, you know… the room you’re in…’
Mrs Purejoie looked at Dirk and then around the room – at the black, skull-covered curtains, the black, skull-covered bedspread, the chair and table carved with strange runes, the books and encyclopaedias on electronics, science, war, conquest and torture, Dirk’s creepy phone and the rest.
‘Right,’ she said, understanding dawning on her face, ‘that sort of makes sense, doesn’t it?’
Dirk folded his arms. Nice, he thought to himself. But then he shrugged. He had to admit, they had a point.
‘Quite. And don’t worry, darling, I’ll look after you, do some tests,’ said Dr Jack. Mrs Purejoie sat up, and, like the Trojan mother she was, reached for the clothes to hang them up.
‘No, let me. You’ve had a terrible shock, you should probably go to bed and get some rest,’ said Dirk, all kindness and care. Hilary smiled at him, put a hand to his cheek. Dirk began putting the clothes away, trying to be the dutiful son.
‘Thank you, dear,’ she said.
Suddenly, there was a low rush of sound, like the faint trickle of a stream and a terrible, noxious stench filled the room.
Goblin fart! thought Dirk to himself, as his face wrinkled up in disgust.
Mrs Purejoie actually went green. Dr Jack gagged.
Jack glared at Dirk. Dirk shook his head ever so slightly and nodded at Mrs Purejoie, who didn’t look at anyone. In fact, it looked like she was going to faint again. Jack’s jaw dropped as he stared at his wife.
‘Wow, she really isn’t well, is she?’ he said. Then, quickly, he helped her up and hurried her out of the room, leaving Dirk to choke in a miasma of Goblin-gut vileness.
‘Skinrash, you little…’ muttered Dirk under his breath as he headed for the window, feeling quite nauseous himself. He leaned out and sucked in great gasps of clean fresh air. Poor Mrs Purejoie. Because of him, she’d seen a vision of a strange tower of evil in a dark land, and then a Goblin from another world, who promptly gassed her – and she’d got the blame for all of it. And now Jack would probably put her through a battery of pointless tests. Still, she’d recover.
He hoped.
‘Anyway, she shouldn’t have called me Dirkikins, eh, Skinrash?’ said Dirk.
November 27th, 2013 Rip-out-their-hearts 27th
Success! It’s complicated, and time-consuming, but I have managed to make some antidote. Not much, mind, but it is a start. In other news, Christopher has to do extra household chores for lying about the cake.
‘Eat it, Christopher!’ I said to him, which I thought was quite a good joke, but he didn’t seem to agree. He’s been very tetchy recently.
I’ve also had an interesting idea that might delay or slow down Hasdruban long enough for me to make more antidote.
November 28th, 2013 Rip-out-their-hearts 28th
I’m in for it now! Just got feedback from old Battleaxe the English teacher on the last bit of homework I did… Or more accurately, that my minion Skinrash did for me. The little… I mean, what was I thinking? They’re calling it ‘gross insubordination’ or some such and I have to see the headmaster! He’s sent a letter to my parents saying I must attend his office in a week’s time. Interesting that it’s a week, though. Why not sooner? Because he thinks I will be dead by then, that’s why. Murdered by the Black Hag.
I’ve attached that crazy Goblin’s homework. When, oh when will I get a truly reliable minion?
‘All right, let’s go over the plan one more time,’ said Dirk. It was lunchtime at school and Chris, Sooz and Dirk were huddled together near the headmaster’s study.
‘We wait for the headmaster to leave his office,’ continued Dirk, ‘Chris stands watch at one end of the corridor, Sooz outside the door.’
Sooz nodded but Chris said, ‘This is bonkers, it’ll never work.’
‘Worth a try, though,’ said Dirk. ‘I mean, look at it.’ Dirk opened up his jacket and showed them… Skinrash’s Goblin axe. The blade was covered in Darklands runes, and the handle strangely curved.
Sooz shook her head, ‘I don’t like it, Dirk,’ she said.
‘It’s really serious, bringing that into school,’ said Chris. ‘If we get caught, we could be expelled – worse, we could go to jail!’
‘Oh come on,’ said Dirk, ‘We’ve been through this before. And anyway, Hasdruban gave me the idea. It was him who made up stuff about me “making a gun”! OK, it’s not a gun, it’s a weapon from the Darklands, but still. It’s only poetic justice to throw it back in his face!’
‘Still, I don’t like it either,’ said Chris.
‘Look, Hasdruban tried to kill me. With a sw
ord. Now he’s going to send a deadly assassin after me. He’s “playing lardball” and so should we!’
Sooz grinned widely, and exchanged a look with Chris.
‘What?’ said Dirk.
‘It’s hardball, not lardball, Orcbrain!’ said Chris, with a laugh.
‘Orcbrain? How dare you!’ shouted Dirk imperiously. ‘My brain is far superior to that of an Orc! Indeed, I have commanded a hundred thousand of them before, in open war, across…’
‘All right, all right, keep yer horns on,’ said Chris, trying not to laugh any more (which would only make things worse, as he knew from bitter experience).
‘Yeah, we need to concentrate!’ said Sooz. ‘Old Whitey is playing hardball, you’re right, Dirk. So we have to fight back too, OK, I get it.’
Dirk stared at her for a moment as he struggled to get his temper under control.
‘Yes, yes, Chris, childish insults are neither here nor there. We must deal with the matter in hand,’ said Dirk. ‘So, the plan – after I put the Goblin axe in his study, we send some anonymous messages to the human police. It’s a weapon in a school – they’ll have to investigate. They’ll find it and haul Hasdruban off for questioning. Sure, he’ll probably get out of it – it’s fake, planted there by the kids, blah, blah. They’ll believe him too, I would think, but not for a few days at least! Give him a bit of a headache, hold him up long enough for me to make more of the antidote. Got to be worth trying, right?’
‘I guess,’ said Sooz, not entirely convinced.
‘Well, I’ve got nothing to lose. And we have to fight back, I can’t just sit here and take hit after hit from Hasdruban – he’s bound to succeed in the end. So, guys, please. Help me here. I need you!’ said Dirk.
Chris sighed. Sooz raised her eyes. ‘Yes, yes, all right then, we’ll do it. I mean, we’ve got no choice – he’s playing lardball and that, isn’t he?’ she said, smiling at Chris.
Chris giggled.
‘The harder you play, the fatter you get!’ she added, rubbing her tummy. Both of them collapsed into gales of laughter.
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