A Worry with Warlocks – Episode 2
“You have to admit this is fun, eh?” I said, raising my voice above the noise of steam venting from the huge pistons powering the tourer over the parched, stony ground.
Grimmon was seated in the passenger seat next to me as I steered the great steam-powered car across the desert. In order to see out the front, he had brought a pile of cushions to sit on. What with the uneven terrain, and the car’s hard suspension, he had a tricky time stopping his precarious seat tipping him onto the floor. His knuckles showed almost white through his green skin where he gripped the door handle.
“Look out!,” he said, his pointed ears wiggling in distress. “Watch where you’re going!”
Flicking my attention back to the view through the windscreen, I saw the cause of his anxiety was a rocky outcrop in our path. Hiding my alarm behind a confident smile, I span the steering wheel and the huge car swerved past unscathed.
I’d started out in a thoroughly bad mood when we’d left the castle. It didn’t seem fair that Trewla had turned down an outing with me, lumbering me instead with Grimmon, who even for a goblin, put a whole new meaning on the word grouchy. And to put not too fine a point on it, had an odour that peeled paint of walls. At least with the windows open, the fresh – if a little hot and dry – air made the atmosphere inside the car breathable.
But once we had driven over the viaduct and left the castle behind, my spirits had lifted. Brimming with confidence at my mastery of the mechanical contraption I was driving, and my pleasure at being out in the open, I was soon humming and whistling.
“That looks like a nice spot for a picnic,” said Grimmon, pointing out of the window.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Nobody in their right mind picnics in a desert. Besides which, I didn’t pack a hamper.”
“But you told Trewla you would take her on a picnic.”
“That was to persuade her to go for a drive with me.”
Grimmon sniggered. “How did that work out for you?”
“You know very well how it worked out. Anyway, you can’t condemn me for trying.”
“She’s never going to like you.” Grimmon chuckled and leered at me. “You do realise that, don’t you?”
“It’s none of your business. And you can keep your grubby opinions to yourself.”
Grimmon sighed and stared where he had pointed. “I still think that’s a nice spot for a picnic. It doesn’t matter you forgot the hamper. I’ve brought nibbles.” He patted the greasy paper-wrapped package bouncing on his lap. “Three delicious roasted rats.”
“You must be joking. In any case, we don’t have time for picnics. What we’re supposed to be doing is looking for someone to buy supplies from.”
Grimmon made a big show of gazing around the empty landscape. “Good luck with that. There’s absolutely no sign anyone lives out here.”
At that moment we came to a track.
“You were saying,” I said, making no attempt to conceal my smugness.
I turned the car onto the track and pulled the lever that increased the flow of steam to the pistons. Slowly and majestically, the car picked up speed.
“You’re going too fast!” The car lurched over a bump, sending Grimmon tumbling from his cushions into the footwell.
“Look at that,” My pulse raced as I glanced at the speedometer. “Eighteen miles an hour! Full speed! We’re practically flying!”
Smoke billowed from the chimney at the front of the car. Clouds of steam hissed from the vents at either side of the powerful engine. We were bowling along at an exhilarating clip.
A stream of words I’d rather not repeat came from the footwell where Grimmon was being thrown about as he struggled to regain his seat.
“This is the life!” I yelled, clenching my hands harder around the steering wheel to prevent it twisting out of my grip. “This track must lead to a town or something! Soon we’ll be impressing the locals with our–”
The engine gave a loud burp, followed by a prolonged sigh. Shuddering and groaning like a banker parting with money, the car lost speed and rolled to a halt.
Grimmon’s wrinkled face emerged from under a heap of cushions. Pushing his meagre strands of hair back across his mottled green scalp, he stared at the gauges on the dashboard, and tapped one with a yellow fingernail. The needle swung from the top of the dial to the bottom.
“The water tank’s empty,” he said.
“What?” My eyebrows shot up. “Didn’t you fill it before we left?”
“No… The gauge said it was full.”
My blood boiled. “Which part of my instructions to prepare the tourer did you not understand?”
“I did everything I usually do!”
“Not good enough!” I said, opening the door and clambering out into the blazing sun. Shielding my eyes with my hand, I gazed around. “I suppose I’m going to have to sort out your mistake. It’s simply a matter of using magic to refill the water tank.” I pulled the brim of my hat more firmly around my head. “I’m sure I remember a spell for producing water. Or was it for making rain? It doesn’t matter, either will do.”
Grimmon leaped out of the car. “No! Don’t! No magic!”
Ignoring him, I raised my hands in a dramatic wizardly fashion and chanted a spell.
*** continued in episode 3 ***
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