Wychetts and the Thunderstone

by William Holley

  Webbed hands gripped his arm and hauled him through the gloom. He tried to struggle free, but slipped and went splashing back into the water.

  The webbed hands dragged him out again, and an angry belch sounded in his right ear. Then he saw light ahead…

  It was a feeble greenish glow, but enough to illuminate the roof of a circular tunnel. And standing below, a familiar old lady wearing tortoise shell glasses…

  “Val!” Edwin almost choked on the word. “Are you all right? What have they done to you?”

  “Nothing.” Val smiled reassuringly as the bedraggled Edwin was thrust towards her. “They’ve behaved like perfect gentlemen.”

  “They’re not gentlemen,” spat Edwin. “They’re Nyx.”

  “You need to relax,” whispered Val. “They won’t harm us if we co-operate.”

  “How do you know that?” Edwin became suspicious. “And are you actually Val? You could be one of them for all I know.”

  “I could be,” acknowledged Val. “So could you.”

  “But I’m not,” protested Edwin.

  “Can you prove it?” asked Val.

  Edwin had to admit that he couldn’t.

  “In which case I’ll just have to trust you.” Val smiled again. “And you’ll have to trust me.”

  Whilst he couldn’t fault the old lady’s reasoning, Edwin still wasn’t convinced. “It’s not you I don’t trust, but the Nyx.”

  “You have no reason to fear them,” said Val. “The Nyx still respect Shield Maidens of Asgard, as they respect the Guardians of Wychetts.”

  “Respect?” A damp mouse head emerged from Edwin’s anorak pocket. “If dragging us down here for a sewer bath is their idea of respect, I’d hate to find out how they treat those they dislike.”

  “I didn’t say they like us.” Val leaned forwards on her walking stick. “The Nyx have plenty of reasons to be suspicious of humans. Even magical ones.”

  “How do you know all this?” Edwin frowned at Val. “Do you speak Nyx?”

  Val shook her silvery head. “No human has ever mastered their language. But luckily I know a clever bird who has.”

  Val stepped aside, and Edwin saw a metal cockerel propped up against the tunnel wall.

  “I have learned every language on earth,” boasted the Weather Vane. “Human and non-human. Nyx is relatively complicated due to its subtle grammatical nuances.”

  “It’s basically just burping,” countered Stubby. “Anyone with chronic indigestion could master it in seconds.”

  A fish-like face emerged from the gloom next to Edwin. The Nyx opened its elongated mouth and emitted a series of gulps and belches.

  “What’s he saying?” Edwin shrank back from the Nyx as it stared at him with its large bulbous eyes.

  “I’ll let the mouse decipher,” said the Weather Vane. “Seeing as he is such an expert.”

  “Yes. Well.” Stubby coughed awkwardly. “The problem is, he has a bit of an accent...”

  “The Nyx welcomes us to the Royal Palace,” translated the Weather Vane. “And trusts we find the accommodation to our liking.”

  Edwin wrinkled his nose. “This is a palace?”

  “We are in the residence of the Queen Nyx herself,” said the Weather Vane. “You are the first humans to be granted access to such a prestigious venue.”

  “You must be joking,” muttered Stubby. “I’ve been in more prestigious sewers.”

  “This is a sewer,” Val reminded him. “And I actually think it’s quite cosy.” She turned to the Weather Vane. “Tell him we are honoured to be admitted to the Royal Palace, and that we look forward to meeting the Queen at her earliest convenience.”

  The Weather Vane made that strange gulping sound. The Nyx nodded, and then responded with more of the same noises.

  The Weather Vane translated again. “He says it is the Queen Nyx who is looking forward to meeting us. He will now escort us to the throne room.”

  The Nyx padded off into the shadows. Val went to follow, but Edwin caught her arm as she hobbled past.

  “We can’t trust these monsters,” he hissed. “They kidnapped my mum and stepdad.”

  “The Nyx are not evil,” insisted Val. “And if they wanted to harm us they would have done so by now.”

  From the blackness ahead came the sound of agitated belching.

  “He requests that we hurry,” said the Weather Vane. “It will not do to keep the Queen waiting.”

  “We must do as they ask.” Val headed off in the direction of the belching. “And be particularly respectful to their ruler. The Queen Nyx is a very powerful magic being.”

  “So what should we do when we meet her?” Edwin picked up the Weather Vane and hurried after Val. “Do we bow, curtsey, or what?”

  “A Nyx will greet his Queen by prostrating himself in the nearest puddle and blowing bubbles through his gill flaps,” explained the Weather Vane. “But as humans you would be excused such courtly etiquette.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” muttered Edwin, still sodden and filthy from his recent dunking.

  “Then again,” mused Stubby, “it would be the closest you’ve ever come to displaying good manners.”

  “However I would advise you to accept all offers of hospitality,” continued the Weather Vane. “To refuse any food and drink would be considered most ungracious.”

  Edwin spotted light up ahead. It was the same greenish glow as before, revealing a widening tunnel before them.

  “We’ve left the sewer now, and must be nearing the throne room.” Val chatted to Edwin as they followed the Nyx guide along the tunnel. “Normally all this would be underwater. The Nyx have used magic to drain the passages so we can pass through them.”

  Edwin studied the glowing green slime on the curved tunnel ceiling. He guessed it was some sort of luminescent fungus, but then again it could be magic. Inglenook would know, of course. But Inglenook wasn’t here.

  Without Wychetts’ magic, Edwin knew he had to keep his wits about him. Despite Val’s insistence that the Nyx were harmless, he suspected the Queen might have some grim fate in store for her prisoners.

  A wall of green moss marked the end of the tunnel. The Nyx guide waved his webbed hand, and the moss parted like curtains to reveal a wide gallery beyond.

  The high ceiling was smothered in glowing green slime, illuminating a raised wooden walkway dividing the floor. On either side stood rows of Nyx, hundreds of scaly faces that turned to stare at Edwin with their large bulbous eyes.

  Edwin didn’t know how to read Nyx expressions. Perhaps they were curious, maybe even afraid. But the belches and gulps that accompanied those staring faces led him to believe his presence here was not entirely welcome.

  The Nyx guide led Edwin and Val along the raised walkway. The fishy stink was stronger than ever, but Edwin tried not to show his disgust as they approached the end of the walkway, and the Nyx Queen herself.

  Even seated on her ornate clamshell throne, Edwin could tell the Queen was much taller than her subjects; but there were other things that set her apart. Her scales had a golden hue, and the pointed fins on her head resembled a crown. She wore a dress of fine silver mesh, and a necklace of glittering shells. Her webbed fingers were long, and her claws longer still.

  But her eyes were like all the other Nyx, and gave Edwin that same unreadable stare as he stopped in front of the throne.

  The Nyx guide stepped aside, leaving Edwin and Val to face the scrutiny of his ruler. The Nyx Queen studied her prisoners carefully, then leaned forwards and belched loudly in Edwin’s face.

  Edwin recoiled as he caught a blast of fishy breath, but Val caught his arm.

  “The Queen welcomes you to her palace,” said the Weather Vane. “And apologises for any inconvenience she may have caused you.”

  “Inconvenience?” Edwin snorted. “They kidnapped us. My mum and stepdad too. I’d call that more than inconvenience.”

  “Careful,” whispered Val, tightening her fingers round Edwin’s arm.
“Remember we mustn’t offend her.”

  The Nyx Queen’s disc eyes were still locked on Edwin. Then she clapped her webbed hands together.

  A Nyx servant emerged from behind the throne, presenting Edwin with a bowl of dark green liquid.

  “The Queen offers you the finest Marsh Brew,” announced the Weather Vane, obviously relishing his role of royal interpreter. “An alcohol free beverage produced in the royal underwater vineyards. Every drop is examined by Her Majesty to ensure it meets the required high standards. This batch was passed by the Queen only this morning.”

  Edwin took the bowl, examining its murky contents with suspicion.

  “Drink up,” hissed Val. “It is rude to refuse Nyx hospitality.”

  “You first.” Edwin passed the bowl to Val. The old lady smiled graciously at the Nyx Queen, then tipped the bowl to her lips and slurped noisily.

  “Oh yes.” Val nodded appreciatively after swallowing. “This has a very zesty character. I’m getting hints of juniper berries, a subtle suggestion of nutmeg, and a twang of toad vomit.”

  “You are correct,” said the Weather Vane. “But you missed the main ingredient: stagnant pond water fermented for six weeks in an old pair of fisherman’s waders.”

  “That’s it!” Val grinned. “I thought there was something familiar about it. We must ask for the recipe. It would go down a storm at the next OAP coffee morning. Now you try some, lad.”

  Val handed the bowl back to Edwin.

  The Queen leaned forwards in her throne, her fish eyes still focussed on Edwin as he debated whether to sample the Marsh Brew.

  “Hurry up,” said Val. “We mustn’t keep the Nyx Queen waiting.”

  Edwin didn’t feel obliged to pander to their royal host. He had plenty of questions for the Nyx Queen, and wanted answers fast. But as Edwin prepared to address her, the Nyx Queen stood up from her throne.

  She was even taller than he’d thought, and her crown of spiky fins almost touched the cavern ceiling. Those fishy eyes still stared at him, and Edwin felt small and weak in her towering presence.

  Deciding it would be best to play along, at least for now, Edwin raised the bowl and took a tiny sip of Marsh Brew.

  It wasn’t the nicest thing he’d ever tasted, a cross between cabbage water and vinegar, but compared to Val’s tea it was actually quite pleasant.

  He took a second sip for good measure, before giving the bowl back to the Nyx servant.

  Another Nyx stepped forward, offering Edwin a dish laden with clumps of green moss.

  Still mindful of the Nyx Queen’s gaze, Edwin grabbed a handful of moss and stuffed it into his mouth.

  It was drier than he’d expected, and a lot chewier. He stood munching for several seconds, then became aware that everyone in the throne room was staring at him. The Nyx expressions were impossible to decipher, but it was the look on Val’s wrinkled face that suggested to Edwin that all was not well.

  But by then it was too late.

  “That was for wiping your lips,” said the Weather Vane.

  “Huh?” Edwin picked a sprig of moss from between his front teeth. “You mean…”

  “You have just eaten a napkin.” Val put a hand to her mouth. Edwin thought she was going to tell him off, but instead she started giggling.

  The Weather Vane chuckled. Then Edwin heard gulps and belches from the assembled Nyx subjects. But these were different gulps and belches to before. Less threatening in tone, more like laughter.

  Then Edwin realised that’s just what it was. The Nyx were laughing at him. All of them.

  Even the Queen joined in. Only Stubby remained serious.

  “I don’t see what’s so funny,” muttered the mouse. “In my experience the napkin is usually the best bit of a meal.”

  Despite feeling embarrassed by his courtly faux pas, Edwin found himself laughing too. Then he realised he was the only one laughing, and looked round to see the Nyx Queen had raised an arm for silence.

  “Now what’s up?” He glanced nervously at the Weather Vane. “Is she mad at us?”

  “We can speak your language,” gulped the Nyx Queen. “And will talk directly to the Guardian of Wychetts.”

  “Looks like you’re redundant,” Stubby told the Weather Vane. “Unless it’s Nyx washing day, in which case you’d make an excellent rotary clothes airer.”

  “The vole will be silent,” ordered the Nyx Queen.

  “Vole?” Stubby emitted a squeak of outrage. “How dare she call me a…”

  “Sssh!” hissed Val. “We must not offend our royal host.”

  Stubby fell silent, but Edwin was in no mood to pussyfoot around any longer.

  “You have no right to bring us here.” He jabbed a pointed a finger at the Nyx Queen. “What have you done with my mother and stepfather? And why did you steal the Thunderstone?”

  More gulps and belches went up from the massed Nyx subjects, but Edwin realised they weren’t laughing anymore.

  The Nyx Queen raised her arm again, and the throne room fell silent.

  “We had no part in the theft of the Thunderstone.” The Nyx Queen bared her sharp needle teeth as she spoke. “But we know who did.”

  Chapter 12- Welcome Aboard

  Bryony woke, and immediately regretted doing so. Her head was spinning, and her skull reverberated with a terrible droning noise.

  “Welcome aboard.” A purring woman’s voice sounded close to her ear. “I apologise for the lack of comfortable seating, but our executive lounge is fully booked.”

  There was something familiar about the voice. Bryony turned her head, wincing from the effort. Then, very slowly, opened her eyes.

  Her vision swam, and it took a few seconds before she could properly discern her surroundings.

  She was lying in a grey walled room. The metal floor vibrated softly beneath her, and she could hear that droning noise echoing from below.

  Bryony sat up and saw a figure standing over her: a beautiful blonde haired woman with emerald eyes, clad in a cream coloured uniform with chocolate brown gloves and boots. She wore a band of glittering diamonds around her slender neck, and it was hard to say whether she was dressed for war or a fashion shoot.

  But there was a lot about Katya Pauncefoot that defied understanding; except that her appearance confirmed Bryony’s suspicions about who had abducted her.

  “The Shadow Clan.” Bryony glared at Katya. “I knew you’d be behind this.”

  “Do not fool yourself.” Katya’s pink lips curved into a mocking smile. “You know so little of our plans.”

  “Then tell me.” Bryony ran a hand through her wind-tangled hair. “What is this place, and what do you want with me?”

  “You are aboard Darkwing,” purred Katya. “The Shadow Clan’s airship.”

  “An airship?” Bryony remembered seeing that vast dark shape above the cage before she blacked out. “I didn’t know the Shadow Clan ran an airline.”

  Katya’s smile fell. “Darkwing was not built for pleasure cruises. She is the only vessel of the Shadow Fleet to have survived the Great War of Magic.”

  Bryony’s eyebrows knotted. “What was the Great War of Magic?”

  “As I said, you know so little.” Katya’s smile returned. “But I am willing to teach you all that Inglenook has not. Would you care for a guided tour?”

  “Why have you brought me here?” Bryony shrank away from Katya’s outstretched hand. “Are you causing all the storms? Tell me what you’re up to.”

  “All will be revealed in time,” said Katya. “Don’t worry, you won’t be harmed. Provided you co-operate.”

  Bryony shook her head. “I’ll never co-operate with the Shadow Clan.”

  “You’ll find you have no choice.” Katya’s smile twisted sinisterly. “Seeing as we have your father.”

  * * *

  “Darkwing is a triumph of Shadow Clan magical technology.” Katya purred proudly as she led Bryony along a hexagonal corridor. The grey metal walls were studded with rivets, and
the floor clanked underfoot. “Her hull is constructed of tempered dragon hide, and she can reach speeds of up to one thousand miles an hour, given a fair wind.”

  Katya stopped to indicate a porthole in the wall.

  Bryony looked through the porthole and saw a fat pig-faced monster guzzling food from a bucket, with a lizard like creature sitting behind it. There was a horrible noise from the pig’s backside, and then flames shot upwards as the lizard ignited the air with his hot breath.