Mr Humphries, although a senior official, worked in the Department of Trade dealing with imports and goods for general sale, nothing special or of vital importance. As for his wife; she was merely a reporter on the Cauldron Chronicle.
His head ached.
Getting up and striding to the door he lifted a grey velvet cloak off a hook. Swinging it round his shoulders he fastened the silver clasp.
Hephzibah watched him in wonder.
‘Get your cloak and broom Miss Hollowood,’ he said, in a low rumble.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked, walking round the desk and pulling on her own cloak.
‘I think it’s time we paid a visit to the Humphries’ house.’
‘Why?’
‘We only have until noon today,’ said Icarus, looking at a large gold fob watch with tiny sapphires for numbers. It was already the early hours of the morning. ‘If I am right, and I am sure I am, this has very little to do with either the Humphries or the Ogres.’
Hephzibah opened her mouth to speak. There were thousands of questions on the tip of her tongue but he had already left. Hastily snatching her broom she ran after him, her cloak billowing out behind as she sped down the corridor.
Ambush
A shimmering opalescent moon sat high in the black inky sky, peppered with twinkling stars like diamonds over Pickwick Cottage where its residents lay sleeping.
Jebediah snoozed peacefully, a thin line of saliva slowly zigzagging its way out of the corner of his mouth, over his cheek and onto the pillow, adding to the already wet patch.
A loud ear-splitting crash from below which sounded like a bulldozer being driven through the front of the house, punctured the silence.
Alex fell off the bed, Jebediah sat bolt upright and Monty was already at the door which flew open as Cordelia dashed in.
‘Did you hear that? What was it? What’s going on?’ The questions tumbled out of her mouth rapidly.
‘Stay here with Alex,’ Jebediah ordered and then shook Chester violently. He had been the only one to sleep through what now appeared to be World War III going on inside his house.
‘Chester, Chester!’ he shouted. ‘Wake up for goodness sake.’
Shuffling over the bed, he followed Monty out of the room. Chester followed bleary eyed.
The noise was deafening by the time they reached the bottom of the stairs.
Primrose was stood in the lounge firing off arrow after arrow from the crossbow with one hand while the other held the shotgun.
Jebediah slid to a stop in the hallway as the front door flew past them, knocked clean off its hinges. Two-twenty foot Trolls attempted to get through the narrow frame at the same time.
‘Oh my…’ Chester began, now suddenly wide awake. He didn’t have time to finish his sentence as Jebediah pulled him hard into the kitchen away from the sight of the oncoming Trolls.
‘Grab the brooms,’ he called above the noise.
The glass in the back door shattered, sending a shower of slivers over them. Cowering with their arms over their heads for protection, an Imp climbed through the broken remnants of what had once been a door.
Jebediah lunged for the carrier bag that contained the stolen money. The Imp jumped on his back and started tearing wildly at his hair.
Picking up his broom, Monty took a retaliatory swing at the Imp who ducked. The broom connected with the back of Jebediah’s head sending him reeling sideways into the table knocking contents to the ground. Biscuits spilled from their packet and the empty cups that Grimble had neglected to move smashed, adding to the din. The bag flew out of his hand and skidded across the floor, coming to a stop by a pair of highly polished shoes.
A stubby hand reached out for the bag.
‘Oh no you don’t,’ Chester shouted, and he dived headfirst at the carrier bag, his fingers clutching at it.
A large amount of tugging ensued, the Gnome holding on to the handles while Chester pulled at the bottom. Lifting the bag above his head, the Gnome still attached, he twirled round and round, gathering momentum until the tiny body of the Gnome was a blur. Whizzing round his head the Gnome hit with the light and lost his grip. Monty, now seeing the airborne creature, stepped aside and opened the oven door. The Gnome flew inside a clatter. Spinning the dial up to maximum, he turned to help Jebediah who was still trying to detach himself from the Imp.
Jebediah staggered to his feet, the Imp still clinging to him vehemently.
A tremendous pain like a red-hot poker shot through his whole head. The Imp had sunk its short spiky teeth into his left ear.
Monty dashed forward and pulled hard at the Imp, disentangling its fingers but not its teeth. The Imp, sensing what was happening, bit harder.
‘Oooooowww!’ Jebediah screamed. ‘Stop pulling the stupid thing.’
Monty let go and jabbed a finger in one of the creature’s bulging eyes, causing it to screech. Momentarily its grip released and its long thin fingers clutched the eye Monty had poked. Seizing his chance, Jebediah flung the Imp over his shoulder and stamped as hard as he could on it. There was a soft squelching noise beneath his foot and it suddenly stopped writhing.
‘I’ve got the money,’ said Chester holding up the bag triumphantly.
‘And I’ve got the brooms,’ Monty added.
Jebediah and Chester grabbed their broomsticks just as the burly arms of a Troll ripped apart like paper what was left of the back door.
‘Run!’ Jebediah bellowed.
Heading back out into the hallway, they saw Primrose firing off arrows left, right and centre, each one finding its target. A pile of injured Gnomes and Imps lay feet away from her, cut down as they had attempted to break through the lounge window.
‘Arrrrrgh!’
The two Trolls had finally pushed their way through into the hallway, filling the entire space.
‘Come on,’ Monty called to Primrose as he headed up the stairs.
Jebediah scrambled up the stairs two at a time, his hands propelling him faster, Chester at the back of him while Primrose fought a rearguard action, delaying the progress of the attackers. The arrows merely bounced off the toughened skin of the two Trolls that now pursued them.
Running into the bedroom, the boys began heaving a chest of drawers in front of the door.
‘What’s happening?’ Cordelia asked, abject terror filling her voice.
‘T-The G-Gnomes, they’ve found, found us,’ Jebediah panted and wheezed.
Cordelia’s hands flew to her mouth in horror as tears readily sprang to her eyes.
Monty was already opening the window. Pulling Cordelia roughly by the arm he shouted, ‘Mount your broom and get out of here I don’t know how long we can hold them off.’
The Trolls and Gnomes were already beating against the door which bowed and heaved dramatically. Jebediah threw himself against the chest of drawers in a feeble attempt to prevent them from breaking through.
Chester climbed on his broom and flew out of the window after Cordelia. Catching his ankle on the ledge, he let out an oath as the bones snapped like a twig.
‘You go next,’ Jebediah said to Monty, ‘and take Alex with you.’
‘But what …’
‘Just go,’ he ordered.
Primrose was already reloading her weapons as a chunk of plaster flew past Jebediah’s head followed by another. The trunk like-arm of a Troll swiped about as it groped for Jebediah.
It was getting too dangerous to stay. Running for the window, he climbed on his broomstick and, crouching low, zoomed out followed by Primrose who had now resorted to firing the pistols she was carrying.
The commotion had brought out the residents of the normally quiet village of Whipsey who stared in hushed awe at five flying children and the sight of Trolls, Gnomes and Imps which they had tho
ught only existed in Fairy tales and the over active imagination of young children.
With nowhere else to go they had flown to the wood, hoping that the dense undergrowth would conceal them until the handover.
Chester landed lightly and slumped to the earth clutching his ankle. The pain soared through his leg, bringing beads of sweat to his brow as he lay in a crumpled heap.
‘Let me look at that for you,’ Primrose said kneeling down at the side of him.
Instinctively he flinched away from the Fairy.
‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ she snapped.
Chester still didn’t trust her after the first onslaught, but his ankle was already broken. She couldn’t cause any more damage - could she?
The Fairy lifted up his trouser leg. Vivid purple and blue bruises encompassed his entire foot and what appeared to be a bone was pushing against his skin, stretching it as it fought to break free.
From her belt she took a small brown leather pouch. Pulling the drawstrings apart she dipped her forefinger and thumb inside. Chester watched uncertainly as she blew a fine gold powder over his foot and muttered an incantation in her own language. The powder fluttered down onto his skin and glowed. An aura surrounded his foot, bringing with it warmth like the summer sun. It was over in seconds. His foot was back to normal.
‘Just go easy on it. It will still be weak,’ warned Primrose.
Monty conjured up six blankets and handed them out.
‘We’ll have to wait it out now,’ Monty said, settling himself down.
‘What if they find us?’ Cordelia asked anxiously as she clutched her knees close to her chin. She had not seen the attack downstairs but hearing it was enough.
Primrose sniffed loudly, ‘They won’t.’
‘How can you be sure? They found us at Jebediah’s house,’ she countered, now starting to rock backwards and forwards in a comforting manner.
‘Your kind isn’t the only one with magic you know. We have powerful magic of our own. I’ve placed a shielding spell around us so we should remain well hidden. Anyone looking will only see the trees and bushes. It’s not penetrable by anything.’
‘Couldn’t you have used that at the house?’ asked Jebediah, thinking of the ruin they had left behind. What his parents were going to say when they saw the place he didn’t know, but they certainly wouldn’t be happy that was for sure. Any chance of being left alone in the house would be a strict no-no and, as for parties, he may as well just forget them until he was middle aged.
‘No point. They already knew you were there so it was a waste of magic.’
The ground, although soft and still warm from the day’s sun, was covered with fallen leaves and twigs, upon it making it rather bumpy to lie on. Monty rested against the trunk of a tree and kept his eyes fixed on the sky. The stars twinkled brightly and he wondered seriously if they were ever going to get out of this alive.
* * *
Icarus stepped through what had once been a doorway into the hall. Slowly he crept forward, his wand raised for a possible attack. Poking his head round the lounge door he spied the bodies of one or two Imps on the floor. The kitchen was clear, debris being the only thing that littered the floor.
The stairs creaked as his foot lightly rested on them. Hephzibah picked her way gingerly behind him. The first room he came to had a hole from floor to ceiling and five feet across punched out of the wall. Stepping through, he saw a chest of drawers placed against the door.
Going over to the open window he peered out into the street below. Whoever had been here tonight had left in a hurry, but why? If the Humphries had been abducted then who was at this house tonight and, more importantly, why was it attacked?
As if thinking along the same lines, Hephzibah said quietly, ‘I wonder what happened here?’
‘I’m not entirely sure,’ Icarus replied.
He looked round the room which until earlier had been papered in small sprigs of flowers and laid out with a wrought iron bed, chest of drawers and wardrobe. The bed was now pushed across the room and some drawers from the chest were open while others lay on the floor, a great force having hit the back of the chest and propelled them out. Despite searching carefully, scrutinising every inch there weren’t any clues to be found relating to who the culprits could be.
‘Search the rest of the house,’ Icarus ordered and walked out of the parents’ bedroom.
Further searching revealed no evidence to help them with their investigation. Eventually, they went up the creaky stairs to the attic.
Icarus stepped into the small space, his head bent low so it didn’t catch on the beams above. Hephzibah followed, her nose wrinkling up at the musty smell that clung to the walls.
Icarus conjured a ball of light up, which hovered overhead and illuminated the room with a soft green glow.
Grimble was laid on his wooden truckle bed, with a bottle of Rose wine in one hand while empty bottles of beer lay at the side. He was snoring loudly, his wiry beard quivering with the exhaled air.
Icarus stood over the body of the Kobold and poked him unceremoniously with his wand. A few grunts were issued but Grimble stayed asleep.
‘I don’t think we’re going to get much from him,’ Icarus said with disgust. ‘Even if he does wake, I doubt he’ll be able to tell us what happened here.’
‘Should we take him in all the same?’ Hephzibah asked in a muffled tone, her hand covering her nose and mouth to block the smell.
‘The cells are full enough back at the station with undesirables Miss Hollowood,’ Icarus replied. ‘Besides, by the time he’s sober enough to tell us anything it will be too late. We now only have seven hours before the meeting in March Wood,’ he said rechecking the gold fob watch that hung at his waist.
Remounting his broomstick in the back garden he looked around at the neighbouring houses. Aside from Jebediah’s grandmother, nobody else belonged to the magical community. He could already see the morning papers that these people read. Captions such as ‘Trolls seen in Village’ and ‘Are There Such Things as Gnomes?’ He cringed inwardly as he pictured the sight and most of all the trouble it would cause.
‘We need a clean-up crew down here immediately,’ he growled.
‘How are we going to wipe so many memories though?’ Hephzibah questioned as she sat astride her own broom and adjusted her cloak.
‘Probably a potion in the water supply would be the best thing. By the time they wake the house will be repaired and anyone who doesn’t drink the water will think they’ve dreamt the whole thing when others say they don’t remember seeing it. This lot aren’t the brightest of species remember.’
Kicking off from the ground they rose into the air and headed back to headquarters.
The Return
Jebediah slept on and off as they huddled together in the wood. His mind refused to close down for longer than a few minutes at a time and every sound made by the scurrying animals put his already strained nerves on edge.
Monty sat forward. His neck was aching badly so he massaged it, moving it round in a circular motion.
The sun had broken over the horizon and was now climbing into the sky; its heat was gentle but a shimmer cast in the air told them it was going to be another hot and humid day.
‘I’m starving,’ Chester moaned.
‘Well there isn’t anywhere to get anything to eat,’ said Jebediah, ‘and I don’t think we should start splitting up - not now - it’s too dangerous.’
Chester’s stomach grumbled loudly and he sat up, rubbing it with his hand as a series of popping noises emitted from it. He yawned loudly and stretched his arms into the air. The last time they had eaten had been the previous afternoon and Chester’s stomach thought his throat had been cut.
It was then that Jebediah noticed that Primrose was gone. Cordelia and Alex still lay
sleeping but the Fairy had disappeared.
‘Did anyone see what happened to Primrose?’ he asked, worried that they had been abandoned while they slept.
Monty scrambled forward and pulled her woollen blanket across the ground to reveal only the leaves and twigs beneath.
‘Well, I didn’t see her leave,’ he said, releasing the blanket.
The sound of someone moving in the undergrowth sent a shiver down their spines, each one thinking that despite what the Fairy had said the Mafia had tracked them down.
Primrose honed into view carrying in her arms a pile of purple berries. Setting them down on the floor between them she announced brightly, ‘Breakfast.’
‘What are they?’ Monty asked, picking one of them up and giving it a quick sniff.
‘Don’t worry, they’re edible,’ replied Primrose, popping one of the berries into her mouth.
Monty followed suit. The berry had a waxy texture but when chewed it tasted like a cross between strawberries and blackberries.
‘Hmmm, they’re good,’ he enthused and grabbed a handful, stuffing them into his mouth before reaching out for more.
Chester did the same before Primrose could stop them. Pretty soon they had a purple ring around their lips where they had crushed some of the berries in their haste to eat.
‘NO!’ she shouted and tried to knock the rest of the berries from their hands. ‘You can’t eat too many.’
‘There’s enough to go round,’ Chester said mulishly.
‘Yes, but if you eat too many they’re not good for you.’
A purple coloured juice seeped out of Chester’s clenched fist as he stared at Primrose. Opening his hand he looked down at the pulp.
‘What do you mean too many are not good for you? You said they weren’t poisonous or anything.’
S.N.O.T. Page 13
