‘Chester,’ he hissed out of the corner of his mouth, ‘where on earth have you brought us?’
His friend was already regretting his actions but he wasn’t going to let Jebediah know it. Moving between the tables, oblivious to the curious stares, he made his way to the bar. There was no use asking the Troll for information as neither of them could understand the series of grunts they used as a language and Trolls were known for being less than friendly towards Witches and Wizards.
A Goblin sat on a stool at the far end of the bar, a glass of dark- brown smoking liquid in his hand.
‘Let’s ask him,’ Chester suggested gesturing at the creature. Jebediah wasn’t sure and felt nervous about being in the club, but Chester had already approached the Goblin leaving him to follow mutely.
The Goblin never removed his sharp eyes from the drink he was holding although aware of the two people now stood at the side of him. All he had come to the bar for was a quiet drink and to be left alone. He didn’t like polite conversation at the best of times, but after the day he’d had the last thing he wanted to do was converse with two under-age Wizards.
Jebediah put one hand on the bar as he tried to adopt a casual pose but quickly removed it as a cockroach climbed over it.
‘Err, excuse me,’ Chester said, looking at the profile of the Goblin. ‘I was wondering if you could give me and my friend a bit of information.’
‘Are the Sorcery Police using kids now to do their dirty work?’ the Goblin growled, taking a sip from his glass.
‘We can pay for anything you tell us,’ said Chester teasingly, patting the pocket of his robes.
The Goblin considered this. He didn’t have that much money after losing heavily at cards with a group of Gnomes earlier in the day so the idea of being able to drink himself into oblivion at the expense of others appealed. Taking another sip of the smouldering liquid he smacked his lips together savouring the hot bitter fluid. His hooked nose quivered as he asked in a low, rasping drawl, ‘What do you want to know?’
‘We are looking for a Leprechaun,’ Chester said, sliding out a large white Grooble note from the pocket of his robes and placing it onto the grubby counter.
The Goblin spied the flourished purple writing on the money and his lips trembled. His mind was already calculating how many drinks he could buy. As the Goblin slowly reached out for it with his clawed, warty fingers, Chester slammed his own hand down before it could be snatched away. He was more worldly wise than the Goblin had given him credit for.
Clearing his throat the Goblin asked, ‘Who is the Leprechaun you want to find?’
‘It isn’t a particular one, any will do,’ Chester replied, his hand still covering the note.
‘Well, I’m sorry to say you’re too late. They left this afternoon to go back to Ireland.’
Jebediah felt like the wind had been kicked out of him. A sinking feeling rose in his stomach as though someone had grabbed his intestines and yanked them hard. Their only chance of being able to get the money had slipped through their fingers like water. His brain whirred as the thought of never seeing his mum and dad again flooded into his mind.
Chester’s hand fell away from the money and the Goblin, as quick as a flash, grabbed it and deposited it into the pocket of a heavily stained and grubby coat.
Chester was only stumped for a few seconds before his mind was again reformulating plans. ‘Are you sure they all left? There couldn’t be a chance that any of them decided to stay on a little longer, say?’
‘Not that I know of,’ the Goblin replied as his eyes travelled down Chester’s robes to where the first Grooble had materialised. ‘But then again, I suppose there are a few places you could check.’ Chester clenched his jaw and produced another note which the Goblin took greedily. ‘You should try the Crystal Ball and maybe the Constellation Nightclub down on the quayside.’
It was obvious that this was all the information they were going to get and neither of them wanted to hang around any longer than they needed to. The action of producing the money had aroused some interest and Jebediah’s hand instinctively rose to his throat, convinced that two Vampires were eyeing him up as a prospective free meal.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ Chester urged tapping Jebediah on the arm and startling him.
He didn’t need to be told twice and quickly followed Chester as he circumnavigated the bar, their eyes never leaving the seated creatures.
They were both thankful when they finally emerged into the fresh air, away from the dank, smoke-filled room below that had the smell of a dungeon about it.
‘Well?’ Cordelia asked as she, Monty and Alex ran forward to meet them both.
Jebediah’s face was grave as he shook his head and Chester said, ‘It cost me two Groobles to find out that they had all left this afternoon.’
‘So that’s it?’ Monty asked in disbelief.
Before either of them could answer Cordelia snapped, ‘No, that’s not it because I for one am not giving up. We’re going to be in real trouble for leaving Curzon Manor the way we did.’
‘The Goblin did say there were two places down by the quayside we could try,’ Jebediah said despondently.
‘Come on then,’ Cordelia chimed with conviction, grasping Jebediah’s arm and storming back up the dismal alleyway.
Dawn was already beginning to break over the horizon, sending an amber glow shimmering over the water, when they emerged from the nightclub that the Goblin had suggested they try. Both places had proved fruitless and a dejected air surrounded the group. Sitting down by some bollards along the dock area, Alex stretched himself out on the ground by the side of Jebediah while Cordelia slumped down by the edge of the water.
Seagulls flew overhead, their eyes peeled for any sign of food. Resting her elbows on her knees she sank forward, her hands cupping her face as she peered into the grey water. Suddenly screaming, she pushed herself backwards with her hands and feet as she scrabbled across the ground.
‘What’s wrong?’ Jebediah shouted, running forward.
With a shaking hand she pointed to the water where she had been sat and stuttered in a trembling voice that was about to be broken with tears, ‘There’s … there’s a … a body in the water.’
The four boys peered over the edge nervously to see a small body floating in the water below like Cordelia had said.
Monty looked at his own ebony-handled broom and then at Chester’s before snatching it from him.
‘Hey, what are you doing?’ Chester demanded, staring at him with a look of pure outrage.
‘Mine is too expensive to go in the water so I’m going to use yours,’ he countered.
Chester’s jaw dropped and he could only watch mutely with a mixture of horror and astonishment as Monty jabbed the handle of Chester’s broom into the water and manoeuvred the body closer to the side, allowing Alex and Jebediah to fish it out.
The small body was plump with stick-like arms and legs. It was dressed in a flaming orange shirt and a brown checked suit, the trousers being so flared that they almost covered the tiny brown platform shoes.
‘I don’t believe it - it’s a Leprechaun!’ Chester cried in disbelief.
‘A damn ugly one,’ Monty observed with a face full of distaste.
‘What?’ Alex said, craning his neck to gain a closer look. ‘Are you sure? Because it just looks like a midget with really bad fashion sense to me.’
‘We need to see if he’s dead,’ Jebediah announced. Everyone moved back a pace and stared at him in revulsion. ‘Okay, I’ll do it,’ he groaned.
As he bent down he thought better of it and decided to nudge the body with his foot. At first there was no response, which prompted him to kick it a little harder. It wasn’t until Chester and Monty joined in that the unconscious form groaned.
Alex crouched down and snif
fed at the man’s mouth. Pulling away with his hand over his face he said in a muffled tone, ‘He’s drunk.’
‘That doesn’t matter,’ Cordelia chirped with excitement. ‘We’ve got one.’
Monty looked towards Jebediah and asked, ‘So who’s going to search the body for the gold?’
Cordelia looked around. ‘I don’t think we should do that here, somebody might see us. It would be better if we leave as soon as possible.’
‘We’d better head back to my house,’ Jebediah declared firmly.
‘Well, I’m not carrying it on my broom,’ Chester said, raising his hand and pushing the problem onto someone else.
‘I’m carrying Alex,’ Monty said quickly, excusing himself from the duty.
Cordelia sighed loudly. ‘You really are pathetic you two.’ Raising her wand she produced a length of rope and tied it expertly round the waist of the Leprechaun saying, ‘I can either tie him onto my broom or you can take him Jeb.’
‘I’ll take him,’ Jebediah responded immediately. Taking hold of the rope he tied it to his broom. ‘We’ll have to fly high as it’s daylight now.’
‘We can, just use invisibility,’ Monty pointed out.
‘We can, but Alex and the Leprechaun can’t,’ Chester retorted, mounting his own broom.
This time it was Jebediah who took the lead with Cordelia flying on his left, Chester on his right and Monty to the rear. The journey back was shorter than their initial flight out. They stayed within the clouds and hoped that the height would be enough to shield them from anyone gazing skywards. It was very early, so the only people about and liable to see them were perhaps men and women returning from a nightshift and if spotted they may just think it was an illusion after such a long shift.
Jebediah took the decision to land in a nearby farmer’s field away from the actual village and the curious eyes of any early risers. From there they crept down the back country lanes between rows of cottages towards Jebediah’s house. At one point they were forced to leap into some very overgrown hydrangea bushes when the milkman came out whistling from one of the houses. Inching forwards, the body of the Leprechaun tucked safely under his arm, Jebediah’s eyes searched for any signs of movement as they passed cottage after cottage.
Jebediah lifted the latch on the gate and pushed it open. Sneaking down the garden path he finally breathed a sigh of relief when he opened the back door and stepped inside his own house.
He laid the Leprechaun gently down at the very end of the enormous pine table and turned to the others saying, ‘I’ll get Grimble to make us a pot of tea.’
‘You couldn’t stretch to breakfast could you?’ Chester asked as his stomach began to rumble.
Alex pulled a face at Jebediah. Grimble wasn’t the best cook and being woken this early in the morning wasn’t a good idea.
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ Jebediah said quietly.
Calling up the stairs for the Kobold, his voice alerted Rotten who had been sleeping on Jebediah’s bed. Bounding down the stairs he launched himself at Jebediah, knocking him clean off his feet. Saliva dripped like a tap from the dog’s mouth, falling in big splodges onto his face and robes.
Lifting his arms to protect himself he shouted, emphasising each word, ‘Get - off - you - stupid - dog!’
Alex stepped forward and pulled Rotten away by his collar, shooing the animal out of the house. Instead of being happy that he was no longer cooped up, the dog jumped up at the door and, with his paws almost above his head, began to slobber against the glass as he stared longingly in at his master.
It wasn’t long before Grimble made an appearance in the doorway, yawning and stretching.
‘Ah, Grimble, I’d like you to make us some breakfast,’ Jebediah announced as the Kobold shuffled across the floor, his sagging underpants swaying unbecomingly as he moved.
Cordelia leaned over the table and voiced what everyone was thinking. ‘I hope he’s going to wash his hands before he starts.’
Jebediah followed her gaze to where Grimble was stood with his hand down the front of his enormous underpants busily scratching his privates. With a smile of embarrassment at the Kobold’s behaviour he got up and spoke to him.
Nobody could hear what he said but the retort was distinct enough as the Kobold grumbled, ‘Puking little whiners.’
The food could hardly be described as pleasant or appetising but at least it was hot - in a manner of speaking. The eggs were a touch too runny and the bacon had been shown the frying pan briefly.
When they had finished, Jebediah asked Grimble to make a very strong, hot pot of coffee. This he poured down the unconscious Leprechaun’s throat with the aid of a plastic funnel he had found in the back of one of the kitchen cupboards behind a mountain of baking tins and a sandwich toaster that had never been used.
Coughing and spraying the rich dark-brown liquid back out, the Leprechaun sat up. Opening one bleary eye he took in his surroundings and the faces that stared at him avidly and put a small hand to his head before groaning loudly.
‘Here, drink the rest of this and I’ll get you some headache tablets,’ Jebediah said, getting up from the table and handing the cup to the Leprechaun who swayed like a blade of grass in the wind. It took several attempts for him to pick the tablets out of Jebediah’s hand, but once he did he threw back his head, swallowed them and laid back down using his hand as a pillow.
‘Eh,’ Jebediah said indignantly as he prodded him, ‘you can’t go back to sleep, we want to talk to you.’
The Leprechaun, however, had other ideas and wasn’t in the mood for conversing. He had the mother of all hangovers and so curled up tighter. This didn’t stop Jebediah, who continued to shake the Leprechaun until he sat back up.
‘Be Jesus, will ye not let a poor man rest his aching head?’
‘You can sleep as much as you like once you hand over your gold,’ Jebediah said forcefully.
‘Gold?’ the Leprechaun repeated. ‘What gold would ye be meaning now?’ he asked in a musical Irish lilt.
‘Don’t give us that. We know Leprechauns have a stash of gold so tell us where it is,’ Alex demanded now punching one of his fists into the palm of his open hand, demonstrating what he was going to do if he didn’t give them the answers they wanted - and quick.
The Leprechaun remained silent. It seemed that the whole kitchen was electrically charged. Without any warning he clutched his stomach and roared with laughter, his body rocking backwards and forwards. Everyone looked at one another, lost for words.
‘It’s no laughing matter,’ Jebediah exclaimed as anger surged through his veins like molten lava, sending a pounding to his head.
‘Oh tis to be sure,’ the Leprechaun spluttered through great guffaws as his hand slapped his thigh like a pantomime performer. Wiping tears away from his crinkled eyes he added, once the gusts of laughter had died down to mere chuckles, ‘Pots o’ gold, tis jus a crock o’ sh..’
‘Eh, we’ll have no bad language here thank you,’ Cordelia cut in, wagging a disapproving finger in his direction.
‘Oh, I do begs yer pardon little missy,’ the Leprechaun said, tipping his hand to his head as though doffing an invisible hat. ‘Leprechauns and pots o’ gold at the end of rainbows, tis sometink of a nasty rumour,’ he carried on.
‘So you don’t have any money whatsoever?’ Jebediah enquired astounded and completely deflated at the same time.
The Leprechaun lowered his eyes and fidgeted with his hands. ‘Tats not strictly true now; each family does have what ye might call a fortune.’
‘So give us that,’ Alex growled, leaning forward and grabbing the lapels of his jacket. His face was so close he could smell the stale, rancid alcohol that was now mixed with the coffee on his breath. Swallowing hard he fought back the natural reaction to retch.
The Leprechaun flinc
hed away and with a sheepish look in his eyes replied, ‘Now I canna be doin tat ye see.’ He hurried on as the grip on his coat tightened. ‘Tis gone ye see.’
‘Gone where?’ Alex hissed through clenched teeth.
The Leprechaun loosened Alex’s hold and laughed but this time nervously. ‘Tis a very hexpensive ting the cost o’ livin.’
Monty clasped his hands behind his head and reclined in his seat. ‘Are you telling us that you’ve spent what you term as the family fortune?’
‘Saw it, took it, spent it I did at tat,’ the Leprechaun replied, shrugging his shoulders apologetically.
Jebediah groaned, ‘Oh God, and let his head drop to the table where it made a resounding thump. ‘We’ve kidnapped the only Leprechaun in Ireland that stole his family’s fortune and no doubt spent it on booze.’
‘It might not be as bad as it looks,’ Cordelia suggested wringing her hands and looking round for support, but the faces that stared back did not share her optimism.
‘Not as bad as it looks?’ Jebediah screeched in a high-pitched hysterical tone, his eyes bulging and his face adopting a very pink tinge. ‘I’ve got to find five thousand Groobles by the day after tomorrow and you think it’s not as bad as it looks!’
Chester tapped the Leprechaun on the arm and asked, ‘If the rest of your lot left for Ireland yesterday then how come we found you floating in the water?’
‘Ah, twas the bitter rollin of the watery grave that pulled me to it’s depths,’ he said solemnly, clasping his hands together in a serious gesture.
‘You mean you got drunk and fell overboard?’ Monty observed dryly.
‘Erm … yes,’ the Leprechaun replied after some hesitation.
‘What’s your name?’ Cordelia asked, smiling in a friendly way.
A grin returned to the little man’s face which creased the skin at the corners of his deep blue eyes. ‘Ah, me name be Seamus, Seamus O’Rourke little missy.’
It felt odd to be called little by someone who was himself only three feet in height discounting the enormous wedge shoes.
S.N.O.T. Page 7
