by L. R. W. Lee
The Festival starts today! The thought woke Andy. He moved to stretch but something prevented him. Opening his eyes, he saw sunshine struggling through the fog-clouded window next to his bed, but there was more…much more.
Andy thrust his shoulder at the sheet that restricted most movement save for his head. The covers constricted, making him wiggle like a worm, and he made no progress. “What’s. Going. On?”
He surveyed his predicament. He was wrapped snugly in a cocoon. The corners of his sheet had been secured to one side of the bed and the blankets that kept the cold at bay to the other. “How—?”
He tried moving his shoulders, unsuccessfully.
“How do I get free?”
As his angst intensified, movement near his wardrobe caught his attention. A fuzzy brown pest started laughing raucously then darted into the closet it had thrust open.
“Hey, get back here!” Andy struggled more fervently but his frenzied movement acted like a boa constrictor slowly squeezing its meal.
“Help! Help!”
At his protests, the monkey-screeching grew louder and the thuds, thumps, and shaking of his wardrobe told him he would soon face more dire actions from the little menace.
“When I’m free, I’m gonna get you!” His threat only met with the sounds of fabric ripping.
“Help! Help!”
What seemed like an hour passed, although Andy knew it could not have been more than ten minutes, and he began feeling sympathy for mummies.
“Heeelllpppp!” He extended the length of his cries.
“Hhhheeeellllppp!” He changed the pitch of his calls.
“HhhHeeEeelllLLllpppPPP!” He moderated the tempo.
“Hhhh. Eeeee. Llll. Pppp.” He added a beat, synchronizing the gremlin’s thumps with his pleas.
A knock at last came on his door.
“Come in! Please—”
“Goodness! What happened?” A girl apprentice from the tailor’s shop just down the hall popped in and spied Andy’s predicament.
“Can you free me?”
“Gracious, let me see what I can do.”
The boggart slammed a door to the wardrobe and bolted between the maid’s legs, drawing a shriek. The girl drew her hands to her face then fumbled with her white cap while twisting to watch the menace disappear out the door. “I hate those things!”
“Yeah, me too. Now can you…?”
“Oh. Of course. Sorry.”
Andy told the girl his story as she untied the sheet and blankets. “Do you have boggart problems often? Mermin didn’t seem surprised it was here.”
“We do. I think it’s the same one. The tricks it plays on everyone are horrible. Why, last month it got into the shop and destroyed much of the fabric, not to mention making a complete mess of the place.”
“How do you get rid of them?”
“Usually salt and a horseshoe.”
Andy tilted his head.
“There’s usually a horseshoe at each entrance to keep it away. It probably managed to loose one of them. We have to chase it out before we can put the horseshoe back up.”
Now free, Andy scratched the back of his head. “Where’s the salt come in?”
“Oh, salt is the only thing it hates, so we go after it with that and direct it back outside.”
“I see.” Andy suppressed a laugh, although it took everything he had to keep a serious expression. “Is there nothing that can keep it away permanently?”
The maid shook her head. “Not that I know of.”
We’ll just see about that. It’s done one too many pranks!
“Couldn’t get yourself out of bed this morning?” the King grinned at Andy’s late arrival in the dining hall.
“Actually, sir, that’s more true than you might think.” Andy described his ordeal, ending with his vow to rid the castle of the pest once and for all.
“You have my blessing! That thing is nothing but trouble.”
Andy had just finished his toast and eggs when the King said, “In addition to your self-declared quest to rid us of the boggart, your mission today is to find Merodach, the dragon master. He’s a rather large fellow, balding, with only three fingers on his left hand.”
Mermin leaned over and whispered, “Bit of a wun in with a dwagon that helped itself to a couple of his fingers, I hear.”
“He usually wears a bright red sash with yellow flames, evidence of his accomplishments,” the King continued. “Red dragons migrate throughout the year. You need to find out where they are currently. If there are any in the land, he will know. Whatever you do, don’t let on you’re finding out for me. By the way, I suggest you wear servant’s livery so you blend in. I had the tailor make you a few changes. They should be in your chambers by now.”
“What if there aren’t any red dragons in the land?”
“We’ll worry about that if the time comes. For now, let’s find out what he can tell us.”
As breakfast ended, the King handed Andy several silver coins. “Nine quirts and a spanning ought to give you enough fun at the festival. It’s nine quirts to a spanning,” he added with a wink.
“But how much is that?”
“You and Alden are going together, correct?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sure he can help you figure that out. Now go have fun!”
Andy jogged up to his chambers and spotted a bright blue tunic and green leggings neatly laid out on his bed. The mess of a wardrobe he’d left earlier had been reorganized and set right. He pulled the tunic over his head and found it went only to the middle of his thigh. I feel… exposed. He struggled to pull on the leggings—pull and squat, pull and squat, shimmy and squat, shimmy and squat. Is this what women go through back home?
As secure as they would ever be, the leggings itched and felt strange as they hugged his legs. He bent and scratched. Ugh. At least the sandals are comfortable. He rooted after an itch hiding at the top of his leggings like a gopher digging its burrow. He added the coins to a leather pouch the tailor had also left for him, then hung the small bag around his neck and tucked it inside his tunic.
Andy made his way down to the kitchens and found Marta.
“My, don’t you look handsome!”
“The leggings itch,” he complained as he leaned over to ferret out another itch.
“Well, you look fine, Andy!” she reassured. “Alden will be here in a minute. Would you like a chocolate chip cookie while you wait?”
Not wanting to dim her smile, Andy downed a tasty treat. He never got chocolate chip cookies at home. He made three more disappear before Alden arrived.
“You look…different!” Alden snickered as he spotted Andy.
“Thanks,” Andy mumbled, fumbling with the bottom hem of the tunic.
“Oh, stop it, Alden. I think he looks handsome. The two of you get along now. Have fun, but be home before dinner.” Marta handed Alden a few coins and, after each stuffing three cookies into their mouths, the pair departed.
The Festival of Oomaldee had been designed to give all the regions of the kingdom opportunities to compete for bragging rights in a variety of contests. The venue allowed people to hear the latest bands and, given the King’s desire to regain technological superiority, festivalgoers could also see and experience new innovations being developed by citizens, as well as by the King. Festivities spanned two full weeks and marked the highlight of the year for most.
The regions of Oomaldee rotated hosting the event. This year the city of Oops, just outside the castle, played host, so Andy and Alden walked. They struck out from the castle to sunshine and lighter-than-usual fog. They could see several feet in front of them, superior conditions compared to what Andy had experienced over the past several days. But the closeness still made him feel claustrophobic.
The trees had turned brilliant gold and orange and red, and Andy stomped on fallen leaves as they walked, grinning. “We don’t have Fall where I’m from.”
Alden furrowed his brow.
�
�In Texas, we get hot summers and freezing winters, but not much in between. Certainly not all these leaves!” Andy launched into a clump of gold and red by the path, then picked up a handful and thrust it at his companion.
“Hey!” Alden swept up a pile of his own and dished them right back.
The scowling faces of a passing family called a stop to the melee several minutes later. The pair brushed leaves from their clothes and hair before continuing on.
They had ventured only a short way when they began seeing banners announcing the festival. Arrows directed people toward the entrance. They reached a clearing where crowds gathered, waiting for the commencement of activities.
Andy and Alden recognized several castle servants milling about and joined them. Hans was there, along with several others Andy had met while helping clean up after the flood. He spotted Hannah not far away and waved. She waved back, blushing. The man with the long arms he had seen tasting the King’s food scowled when he saw Andy, jerked his shoulders back and waddled away.
“Not a very friendly sort,” commented Andy to Alden. “He always scowls when he sees me.”
“Don’t worry about him,” reassured Alden. “His name is Razen. You’d scowl, too, if your name sounded like a dried fruit.” The boys shared a laugh.
“I heard he came a long time ago, after Abaddon attacked the castle and carried away the King’s food taster, Eliazer,” Alden informed. “Hans says he saw Eliazer fighting, but when the battle ended, they didn’t find his body. He figures Abaddon’s army captured him. Razen came to the castle after that. He doesn’t like new people. It took him over a year to stop scowling every time he sees me.”
Hans sauntered over. “Are you ready for the Tower Chase, Alden?”
“I hope so. I’ll do my best.”
“Attaboy! That’s all you can ask of yourself. To not be happy with your best is not dignified.”
“Please join me in opening these festivities!” the governor of Oops bellowed, at which a roar went up and everyone poured under the entry banner, separating the boys from Hans and pulling them toward a clearing where rows and rows of brightly colored tents stood in lines like soldiers in formation.
The delicious smell of funnel cakes assaulted Andy’s senses. They have them in Oomaldee! I have to get one!
“Cartesians aren’t welcome here!” A youth much bigger than either of them shouted over the crowd, leering at Alden’s neon-green hair. “You heard me, boy! You’re not welcome here. Get yourself on home where you belong.”
“What’s this about?” Andy questioned.
“People from Oomaldee consider those of us from Carta to be foreigners, and they don’t like us much.”
Andy remembered Marta saying something to that effect as well. “Ignore him. He’s just a bully. Come on, let’s see what there is to do.”
“Hey, get back here! I’m not done with you!” the heckler taunted as they hurried away. “Yeah, run ya little sissies!”
They left the crowd and slowed their pace. Andy glanced up. At the edge of the fog, he could make out the shapes of five or six huge black birds circling above, like vultures hunting for their next meal. The birds appeared larger than any Andy had ever seen—and close.
“What are those things?”
“I overheard His Majesty say King Abaddon has bird spies that circle the skies of Oomaldee.”
“They give me the creeps. I feel like they’re going to swoop down and grab me for breakfast.”
Alden laughed. “I’ve never heard of that happening. Hey, let’s grab something to eat.”
“Sounds good to me!”
They gorged themselves at booths selling candy apples, fried butter bits, huge barbecued turkey legs, and fudge of all varieties, including chili flavor, which proved to be Andy’s favorite because he loved spicy food. After considerable searching, they sniffed out the tent selling funnel cakes, although they were called fried mesh marvels in Oomaldee—the sugary treats electrified Andy’s taste buds.
As they munched cheesy popcorn, Andy saw one of the large black birds land nearby then waddle behind a tent. It stood just shy of his height!
“Come on.” Andy motioned for Alden to follow.
They crept around to where they spied the large bird’s feet under the open bottom of the tent. Clawed feet transformed into bare human feet.
“Did you see that?” Andy whispered.
The creature rummaged in a sack that had been stashed nearby. A minute later a short, plump man with arms extending nearly to his ankles emerged and blended into the mingling crowd.
“His wings transformed into arms!” Alden mimed the sway of the man’s appendages.
“We need to tell the King tonight.”
Alden nodded, eyes wide.
“Hey, I promised the King we’d find Merodach, the dragon trainer. He said you could probably help.”
“Why do you need to find him?”
