A Worry with Warlocks – Episode 4
I ran like the hounds of hell were after me, which, in my opinion, wouldn’t have been as horrific as what was actually snapping its pincers at my heels: an enormous mechanical scorpion with a savage thirst for my blood. A pincer snatched at my coattails and, with a squeal, I put on a burst of extra speed.
Glancing back over my shoulder, I saw the scorpion had sped up too and was slowly gaining on me. Despite the heat of the desert, a chill swept over me. My heart was hammering like a demonic blacksmith lashing an anvil, and my legs were pumping like a locomotive’s pistons. I couldn’t last much longer. I was already tiring.
Ahead, there was still no sign of cover, not even a rock big enough to hide behind.
My brain was still processing the image from that glance over my shoulder, and an oddness about it struck me.
There had been a darkish green figure hunched on the scorpion’s back.
I glance back again.
The figure was still there. I narrowed my eyes.
It was Grimmon. And he was holding onto something behind the creature’s head. A lever, I realised.
“What are you doing?” I screamed.
As if in answer he pushed the lever forward. Twin jets of steam streamed from the beast’s rear and it picked up speed.
It surged closer, and one of its pincers swung at me. I yelped and leaped to the side to avoid my liver being punctured.
My tired legs had barely enough strength to send me lurching sideways again as the other pincer swept through the air at my fragile flesh. Distracted and not watching where I was going, my foot smacked into a stone, and I tumbled to the ground. A massive, spiked pincer swooped past my head, knocking off my hat.
The scorpion skidded to a halt in a roiling cloud of dust. It raised both its pincers, looming over me like a vengeful butcher with a cleaver in each hand.
“Eeeeeeeeek!” I screeched.
I could see Grimmon’s face looking over the beast’s head at me. He was grinning, which seemed a little odd, and at the exact moment the scorpion’s deadly pincers started to whip down, he yanked the lever backwards. The creature’s metallic body quivered and froze, and the pincers ground to a halt only inches above my chest.
I groaned and rolled out from under the spikes, which were still vibrating like a bishop in a brothel, and lay on my back to get my breath back.
“What the hell were you doing?” I said, lifting my head to glare at him.
“Don’t shout at me,” said Grimmon, giving me a hurt look. “I just saved your life.”
“Oh really? Then why did you make the damned monster go faster?”
“I pulled the lever the wrong way the first time.” Grimmon’s expression wouldn’t have looked out of place on the face of an angel. “You should be grateful. I risked my life to save you.”
“Eh? What do you mean?”
“When the scorpion chased after you, it went past me and I noticed the steam control lever sticking up at the front by its head. Without any concern for my own safety, I grabbed its tail, climbed onto its back and crawled forward to operate the lever.”
Though I had my suspicions about his behaviour when I’d seen him on the scorpion’s back, I had to admit he’d stopped the foul beast before it had done me any harm.
“Well, I… um… thank you,” I mumbled.
“Could you say that again, louder? I didn’t hear what you said.”
“Once was enough! Besides which, it’s your fault we got into this mess in the first place.”
His eyebrows shot up. “My fault?”
“Yes. If you hadn’t interfered with my plan to get Trewla to go on a picnic with me, I’d be with her right now – an actual nice person – instead of you.”
“I bet she wouldn’t have jumped on the back of a terrifying creature to save your ungrateful hide.”
“She wouldn’t have had to because, unlike you, she would have made sure the tourer’s water tank was full before we left.”
“Ha! Why didn’t you check it before we left. Why do you leave everything to me?”
“Because I’m a big picture person. I have the ideas, the brilliance, to make things happen. You’re a details person.” I looked down my nose at him, which wasn’t difficult what with me being horizontal. “Anyway, pass me the water bottle. I’m thirsty.”
“What water bottle?”
I smacked my forehead. “I can’t believe it! You didn’t bring one, did you?”
“You’re the ideas person, remember?” He scowled at me. “But you didn’t think to remind me to bring one.”
He had a point, but I wasn’t about to let him know that. “Right. So, we’ll just have to… um… you know…”
“Find someone to help us?”
“Ah!” I seized on his suggestion and pretended it was mine. “We’ll find someone to help us.” I gazed around the barren landscape. “Keep quiet while I choose a direction to go.”
“How about there?” he said, pointing at a steep-sided hill, about a mile away, with a tower perched on top of it.
“I think we should walk to the tower on that hill,” I said, as though I hadn’t heard him. “We’re bound to find someone there who can help us.”
I started levering myself up, only to fall back in astonishment as the ground near my feet erupted in a boiling cloud of dust. Peppered with dirt and pebbles, I could only watch open-mouthed as the dust settled, revealing a bearded man wearing sand-coloured robes and a pointy hat standing before me.
He twisted around, his head snapping from side to side as though looking for something. I coughed, and after a tiny jump, his gaze dropped and settled on my prostrate form.
“Oh, there you are,” he said. He took a deep breath, stuck out his beard, and intoned, “How dare you trespass on my domain?”
“We’re lost,” I said, summoning as much dignity I could muster in my horizontal state. “Who are you?”
He puffed out his chest. “I am the Amazing Akalemmo!”
As he spoke, he waved his arms in a circle in front of him. His hands left a ring of blue fire which hung in the air for a few seconds, then faded away.
I rolled my eyes. “Ah, you’re a wizard.”
His eyes bulged, and his face reddened.
“Wizard?” he screeched. “A mortal insult! You will pay for that!”
“Oh.” I sighed and my heart sank. “Let me guess. You’re a warlock.”
“Correct!” He came closer and placed his foot on my chest. “And you are my prisoner!”
Lifting his head, he directed his gaze at a nearby sand dune. “So are you.”
He waved his hand and muttered. There was a surprised yelp, and something rose into the air from behind the dune.
It was Grimmon. Coward that he is, he must have scurried off when Akalemmo had arrived.
“To my tower, the pair of you!” bellowed the warlock.
With that, the warlock made a peculiar gesture with his hands. Blue sparks flew from his fingers and a thick fog of dust coiled from the sands. It wrapped around us and the landscape disappeared.
The world lurched and my body felt like it turned inside out.
*** Continued in episode 5 ***
Leave a Reply