“Down here, Mogatron. It’s me, Romulus.”
At first Mogatron didn’t notice his diminutive friend standing knee high behind Macy, until he followed the voice down to the ground.
“Ah, Romulus!” Mogatron rocked back on his heels and could hardly believe what had happened to his friend. “I knew that Kraken had taken your mother and father prisoner and shrunk them ... but I had been told by others, who’d witnessed their capture, you and Hangaku had escaped unharmed!”
Mogatron looked visibly shocked and exhaled violently through his large inflamed nostrils and deposited the gooey mixture onto the sleeve of his already snot infested jumper.
Macy saw his disgusting antics but thought better that to cause a scene. Instead she turned her head to the side and wretched a couple of times but held in the overriding temptation to be sick.
“We did escape, but at a cost.” Romulus moved a hand from his head to his toes to emphasise his size, or lack of it as was the case. “Only a short while ago, my sister, along with two others, were seized and taken away by Gordrick and his henchmen. I dread to think what he will do with them.”
“Gordrick, you say? He’s in the forest, you say?” Mogatron seemed in a deep trance and stroked his chin.
Macy screwed her face up and winced as Mogatron cleared his nose in the same vile manner as before. “He was. But he’s not now. He took them all away … on the back of Flight Stalkers,” she piped-up.
“Flight Stalkers, you say? Took them away, you say?” Still stroking his chin, Mogatron cranked a half smile and muttered to himself.
Macy was growing impatient and had had enough of Mogatron’s weird talk and filthy nose clearing habit.
“What is he … a parrot?” She glanced at Romulus and shook her head in despair. “I don’t know why we are here, anyway. I thought the whole idea was to find the Spell Keeper and seek his help? We’re not going to get much help around here, judging by his nonsense talk.” Macy pointed at Mogatron, though made sure she didn’t make contact with him … especially his snotty sleeve.
“Talking nonsense, you say?” Mogatron had heard everything Macy had said, but he didn’t change his tune.
“He’s at it again … is he having a laugh, or what?” She clenched a fist and punched it into the palm of her other hand, and it took all her self-control to stop herself from cracking.
Romulus stepped in before Macy blew a fuse. “Calm yourself ... it’s just the way he is. He doesn’t mean to be rude.” He turned his attention back to Mogatron and informed him of their intended destinations … the Spell Keeper’s hiding place, and then onto Tormencer Castle, to rescue his family and friends.
Macy looked shocked that Romulus had spoken so openly about where they were headed, and what they intended to do when they got there, and made her feelings known to him.
“He might be your friend, but by the look of things he seems to live here in the middle of the forest without fear of Kraken’s Goblin Soldiers. That can’t be right, can it? Unless he is on good terms with the Goblin Soldiers who patrol this area?”
Romulus didn’t like what he saw as Macy bad mouthing his friend. “What you have said couldn’t be further from the truth, I can assure you. Mogatron doesn’t come to any harm here simply because he pretends to be on the side of the Goblin Soldiers. But he despises them as much as us all and listens for pieces of information from any loose tongues which might help people living nearby to prepare them for a possible attack. He even … though I stress this with a begrudging heart … sometimes offers them food and drink to help disguise the true nature behind his kindness.”
Macy took on board what Romulus had told her, but still had her doubts. “Well, that’s as may be. But it still doesn’t help me understand why you brought us here? How do you think he can help?”
She didn’t need a reply from Romulus to answer the question... Mogatron had already set about putting her mind at rest.
“Stand back. I don’t want you getting trampled.” Mogatron reached for a broom leant against the huge wooden building in front of them ... and used it to slot open a large iron lock and bolt on one of the three doors. Immediately, the door swung open and a terrifying roar filled the air, causing Macy to place her hands over her ears.
“I don’t like this!” she yelled. “If the doorway where these creatures live is anything to go by, they’re going to be some size.”
“Don’t worry,” smiled Mogatron. “They are my babies… They won’t harm you.”
Macy took note of Mogatron’s position to that of her own and gave a less than convincing reply to his prediction. “It’s okay for you to say, you’re half protected by the door. It’s Romulus and myself who are in the firing line.”
Mogatron laughed openly and he moved away from the door, over to where Macy and Romulus were standing.
“Do you feel safer now?” Mogatron grinned innately and a vulgar colorant of red, black and yellow homed into view as his filthy teeth, and rancid deep red gums became visible, together with an acrid cloud of green breath. “Don’t be frightened by the Zynador’s size. Let me prove to you how gentle they can be.”
Mogatron sucked in his bottom lip and let loose with a screeching whistle. Again, the forest was filled with the booming sound of giant lungs and vocal cords pumping to their maximum. This time though the Zynador followed closely behind its own voice.
The Zynador was a strange looking creature, but not strange enough for Macy to spot the unerring resemblance to a long extinct winged dinosaur, the Pterodactyl. With a huge protruding beak, holding row upon row of razor sharp teeth, and laser cut talons the size of a JCB digger bucket, it was a strikingly formidable beast to say the least.
Macy’s eyes bulged out on storks and she stood totally engrossed at the creature before her.
The Zynador edged forward and its giant, almost see-through wings dragged along the ground either side of it. It stopped just short of Macy and tossed its head wildly from side to side and clicked a ghostly moon coloured eye open and shut.
“What’s it doing?” asked Macy, her voice tinged with fright.
“Winking at you,” laughed Mogatron. “As I said, Zynador’s are gentle creatures.” He seemed pleased with himself, and to prove his point he moved next to the Zynador’s talons.
Macy seemed fixated with the Zynador’s jawbone. “I don’t know about being gentle. I wouldn’t fancy a bite from it, that’s for sure.”
Mogatron was humoured by Macy’s apparent reluctance to see the Zynador as a gentle giant. “Bite you, you say? Oh, she may look menacing but if you got to know her better I’m sure you’d see her in a different light. Though, Kraken and his Goblin Soldiers would probably agree with you,” Mogatron laughed to himself. “You see, to stop them using my beautiful babies for their own purpose, I let it be known, some time ago, that the Zynador like nothing more than to eat Goblins for breakfast. I hope you’ll agree it was a cunning piece of deception? One look at the teeth on them would make anyone who didn’t know them think twice about getting too near.”
— CHAPTER FOURTEEN —
How to Fly a Zynador
Time was moving on … it was already late afternoon and both Romulus and Macy had been well looked after by Mogatron. A fabulous selection of food had been laid on, in the form of a delicious fish pie and mashed potato, followed by a fruit cake, the like of which Macy had never tasted before. She was starving, and it went down a treat. Though before consuming anything Macy had made sure that Mogatron had rolled his sleeves up and washed his hands thoroughly. The last thing she wanted was for his snotty paws to contaminate her food.
One thing that did take a pounding on Macy’s taste buds though was a strange sky-blue drink. She managed to swallow it easily enough, and … it tasted much the same as fizzy lemonade. But after a few minutes of mixing with the natural gasses in her stomach, something strange happened, and she found herself engaged in an embarrassing belching spree, which it seemed had no intention of stopping. This in
turn brought a foul stench racing up her throat, engulfing her tonsils and airways with its nose-pinching odour.
Macy’s distress had not gone unnoticed by Mogatron and Romulus and they set about offering their own advice about how to stop the predicament she found herself in.
“I should have known Mogatron’s homemade recipe would be too strong for you.” Romulus offered Macy a second glass, though this time it held only fresh water. “Here you go. Drink this. It’ll stop the fizziness and belching in a few seconds.”
Macy grabbed the glass from his grasp and drained its contents; she was in no mood to mess about.
“What was in the first drink? I know you said it was made by Mogatron, but what went in it?”
“Oh, you’ll never get a recipe out of Mogatron,” smiled Romulus. “Especially one as good as his homemade Caltor drink. It’s a closely guarded secret he won’t even disclose to me.”
Romulus picked up a half-filled thimble; the large glasses were far too big for him … and dipped it into Mogatron’s secrets recipe.
Macy waited, but nothing happened. She couldn’t understand why the drink hadn’t had the same outcome on Romulus as it had done on her. “Why aren’t you belching?”
“You get used to it after a while, and … once you’ve got over the initial belching fit and bad taste, you’ll definitely come back for more.”
“I find it highly unlikely,” Macy baulked. “I’ll stick with water, thank you.”
“Please yourself. It leaves more for Mogatron and myself to finish. What do you say, Mogatron?” Romulus raised his empty thimble high into the air. “I could do with a refill,” he gave Mogatron an appreciative smile as his request was swiftly dealt with.
“I must say, this has got to be my best batch of Caltor in a long-time,” said Mogatron self satisfyingly, and he eagerly threw another glassful down his throat.
After the eating and drinking binge was over Romulus thanked Mogatron for his hospitality. “Fantastic as ever,” he mused. “But time is fast slipping by, and I would like to make it to the Spell Keeper’s cave before nightfall.”
“Ah, the Spell Keepers cave, you say? Before nightfall, you say? I couldn’t agree with you more,” said Mogatron. “The last thing you want to do is fly during the hours of darkness. The Zynador aren’t so good at flying in the dark. Their night vision is pretty shocking.” Mogatron gave a toothy smile. “Oh, they’re fine during the hours of daylight—” he pursed his lips and shrugged his shoulders, “—but at night it can be a bit tricky to steer them. And it’s not something I would consider doing myself.”
Macy cupped her face and looked at Romulus through a gap between her fingers. “You must be joking!” she cried. “You want us to climb onboard one of those huge creatures and fly it to the Spell Keeper’s cave?”
“Exactly,” said Romulus, without even batting an eyelid.
“No chance!” Macy was adamant.
Romulus was surprised by Macy’s stubbornness. Though to be fair to Macy, riding a Zynador wasn’t a new experience to Romulus, and he knew what to expect, unlike herself. Mogatron had often lent one of the massive flying beasts to him and other members of his immediate family to use whenever they had wanted. After all, he had worked for Romulus’s family for many years, and was considered a close and dear friend.
“Don’t fret. Mogatron has already explained, they won’t harm you. I’ve flown them on many occasions … so has Hangaku and other members of my family. All you have to do is sit back, relax, and forget what the Zynador looks like.”
Romulus’s attempt to ease Macy’s underlying worries seemed to have done the trick. “Fine! I’m not happy about it. But if it’s the quickest way to get to the home of the Spell Keeper, then let’s do it.” Macy headed for the open door of Mogatron’s home and stepped outside.
“That’s the spirit. You know it makes sense.” Romulus was pleased that Macy seemed to have had a change of heart.
Macy shook her head and folded her arms across her chest and stood less than a metre away from the Zynador. With the pressure still mounting she looked over her shoulder at Romulus and Mogatron.
“If this doesn’t win first prize in the essay competition back at school, about what I did during the summer holidays, then the world’s gone mad.”
Romulus gave Mogatron an inquisitive stare. “What’s she talking about?”
Mogatron proved to be no help and shrugged. “What’s she talking about, you say? Don’t ask me.”
Macy looked to have overcome her fear of the Zynador and began her assent of the huge beast. The climb was made easier by the assistance of a scaly stairway, made from hard skin, which ran from the Zynador’s huge talons, right the way to the middle of its back. A brown leather strap circled all the way around its massive frame and securely fastened an enormous double saddle in place.
“It looks comfy enough... I take it this is where we sit?” Macy hauled herself up onto the Zynador’s thick armour-like skin and sat on the saddle.
Romulus looked up at Macy and nodded. “I can remember the first time I ever climbed onto the back of a Zynador. I was shaking like a leaf. So, you’re doing better than me, already.” His honest words didn’t entirely fill Macy with confidence. It was a fearsome looking creature she was sitting on.
“It’s roomy up here.” It was Macy’s half-hearted attempt at occupying her mind. “There are two pockets either side of the saddle, so I suppose I slot my legs into a pair of them?”
“You suppose right,” said Romulus. “That’s why they are called leg holders.” By now he had dragged himself up onto the Zynador’s back, with a helping hand from Mogatron, and was next to Macy on the saddle. In an effort to make himself more comfortable Romulus slid his legs and most of his body deep within the free right-hand side leg holder. “Normally, I would fit a leg either side, much the same as you have done, but in my present state I only need one leg holder, and it feels more like a sleeping bag. If I slide too far down you won’t be able to see me,” he joked.
“It’s okay. If you do slip down, I’ll pull you up again.”
Romulus gave an appreciative nod. “Right, here we go. Now, before we begin flying, there is one thing I had better warn you about.”
Macy let out a sigh. “Oh, come … on! Don’t tell me we have to push start it to get it airborne?”
“Oh, good lord, no … nothing so drastic. All I was going to say is, you had better get a good grip of the saddle. Otherwise, you’ll be thrown off.”
“Ah, nice one! You tell me that once I’m all settled,” replied Macy flippantly.
“I thought it best not to worry you beforehand. You might not have climbed aboard otherwise, and we would have been in a real mess.”
“Might not, isn’t the word!” Macy cried. “No chance would’ve been closer — which is what I said at the beginning.”
But it was too late to get off now as the huge frame of the Zynador jolted forward.
“Here we go,” shouted Romulus. He took a firm hold of a leather steering strap needed to guide the Zynador in the right direction. “Remember, hold on as tight as you can.”
Macy didn’t need reminding and had already tucked both arms underneath the saddle … one either side of her legs. “Hang on a minute, what about Mogatron? Isn’t he coming with us?”
Mogatron had heard Macy’s question and shouted up at her. “I’m not as young as I used to be… You’re far better by yourselves. Don’t worry… You’ll be fine.”
The Zynador didn’t need much of a run-up to launch itself into the air. A dozen or so car lengths were enough as it trundled along. Spreading its giant wings out as far as they could go the Zynador turned them at an angle, so the front of both wings were slightly higher than the back. Romulus had a perplexed look on his face. “That’s unusual. I don’t remember flying on a Zynador who has done that before.” He looked down at Mogatron and called out. “Is there a problem?”
Macy’s confidence seemed to be ebbing away as Romulus’s
query sank in. “I don’t believe this is happening,” she muttered to herself.
“Don’t panic—” shouted Mogatron, “—it’s rare, but they sometimes have to do that when there’s not enough wind. It helps the air flow and uplift to get them off the ground.” He waved both his arms in the air as the Zynador’s gigantic frame finally left the ground. “Good luck.”
“Hold on, Macy,” cried Romulus yet again as the vortex caused by the Zynador rushed against his face and pushed the skin back as far as his ears.
The black cloak of the Zynador’s mighty shadow cast an eerie dark blanket across the treetops and dry ground below as it thundered through the air.
They flew over the Nebier Forest, and Kraken’s castle came into view, out in front. It wasn’t a patch on Tormencer Castle, almost half its size, and in need of some major repairs. Its outer walls bulged and looked unstable … they had seen better days and were covered in a dirty black dusting of burnt ground and dead tree bark, almost as if the Nebier Forest had tried to reclaim it back. And the inner building wasn’t much better, though it did have what looked to be a new roof made from some king of silver material … which shimmered like a pool of ice under the blinding rays of the hot sun.
Macy sat bolt upright and stared straight ahead, and the Zynador accelerated higher into the sky.
“Whatever you do, don’t look down,” said Romulus calmly. “Not even for a moment. The first time I ever flew on one of these creatures I made that mistake, and it scared the life out of me.”
“Why did you have to mention it to me, then?” shouted Macy. It was as if an electrical pulse had sent a text message to her brain as a shudder ran the length of her body. “I had no intention of looking down until you brought the subject up!”
She resisted the urge to look at the ground as much as possible, but temptation finally got the better of her, and she dropped her gaze. “Wow! I’ve got to get off this thing.” She panicked and tried to release herself from the restraints of the saddle.
“Sit down! What do you think you’re doing?” shouted Romulus. “There’s nowhere to go. You’re high up in the sky.” He tried to steady the Zynador as it began to rock left and right with Macy’s movement.
Macy Vickers and the Book of Spells Page 12
