A Worry with Warlocks – Episode 1
I have a confession to make.
Some of the things that have recently gone awry may have been my fault.
Well, partially.
You see, that morning when I asked Grimmon to prepare the tourer for an outing, I had no idea it would lead to the discomfort from which he claims he still suffers. On the other hand, if I’d listened to Trewla’s warnings about the world the castle had arrived in that same morning, Grimmon might be as chirpy as usual.
Perhaps chirpy is stretching things a little, but you get the idea.
During the night, the castle had relocated itself to yet another world, and I woke to the sun blazing through my bedroom window. In my estimation, that’s always signals a good day lies ahead, and I threw back the covers with a glad heart.
It didn’t last.
When I shuffled in my slippers to the window to gaze at the world the castle had moved to, my stomach dropped. I had hoped for a glorious landscape of lush green hills, or a patchwork of bountiful fields bursting with ripening crops, or tropical forests awash with colourful birds, or just about anything apart from the sight that greeted my eyes.
Flat, bare stony ground stretched away to a distant range of arid, rocky hills. Here and there, pale green clusters of spiky bushes were the only breaks in a parched, dusty plain of brown, tan, and beige.
The only thing that lifted my mood was the sight of the viaduct. I think I’ve mentioned before, the viaduct only appears when the world beyond the moat is deemed to be benign by whatever drives the magic behind the castle’s world hopping. If we arrive in a new world, and the viaduct isn’t there, it isn’t safe to leave the castle.
The stone arches marching across the moat were most welcome. Despite the hostile-looking desert, I reasoned the presence of the viaduct meant the land couldn’t be too dangerous. It had been weeks since I’d been on an outing, and I was determined today was the day to go on another one.
Besides which, Cook had informed me the day before that we had run out of cheese. And a few other necessities as well, but cheese was the most important, as far as I was concerned. A trip to replenish our supplies was required.
I dressed as fast as my fingers could do up my buttons and made my way to the kitchen. Trewla, wearing a rather fetching dress she had borrowed from the poltergeist, was sat at a table, eating fruit from a bowl. Grimmon was in the far corner of the room tucking into a well-roasted rat. Cook was bent over a pan, suspended on chains over the fire, preparing my hopefully rat-free breakfast.
“Good morning!” I said, breezily, as I entered. “Grimmon, my little goblin friend, finish your meal then go and prepare the tourer.” I sauntered up to Trewla and bathed her with a smile. “How would you like to go on a shopping expedition with me?”
“Seriously?” she said. “You want me to wander aimlessly around a baking wasteland with you to look for a shop?”
“Not aimlessly, and we won’t be wandering either. Didn’t you hear me instruct Grimmon to prepare the tourer?”
She sighed, and slowly shook her head, sending her glorious curls swaying about her pointed ears. “What’s ‘the tourer’?”
“Ah.” I raised my finger vertically and waggled it. “It’s a marvellous contraption. A vehicular triumph of engineering that will convey us to the farthest reaches of the desert in comfort and style.”
Grimmon sniggered. “He means it’s a steam-powered car. More smoke, shake and rattle than comfort.”
“Steam power?”
“Think of it as a coal-eating dragon, belching smoke and steam, while you ride on its back,” said Grimmon.
Trewla sniffed. “I think I’ll stay right here.”
“Wait!” I protested. “The tourer is nothing at all like Grimmon says.” I gave the goblin a dirty look, then turned back to Trewla and added slyly. “In any case, you can’t let me go out into a strange new world on my own, surely?”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” she said. “The answer is still no.”
“But I need another pair of eyes to help me search for people, villages, towns, and whatnot. I can’t possibly do that on my own.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Grimmon, raising his hand.
“No!” I said, aghast. “You’re not suitable.”
“Why not,” said Trewla, fixing me with a stony stare.
“Well… he’s, you know, um… unpleasant.”
“Oh? And what am I?”
“You’re um… not unpleasant. Not at all.”
Trewla arched her eyebrows. “That’s how you would describe me? Not unpleasant?”
“Look, I didn’t mean it like that! You’re much more, um…”
Cook stopped stirring the pan, and raised her head. “I’d stop talking, if I were you,” she said, wiping the sweat off her face with her apron.
Ignoring her, I gazed at Trewla with my most honest expression, and forged ahead. “You’re much better than unpleasant, obviously.”
She snorted, and pushed back her chair.
My pulse quickened. “We could take a picnic with us,” I said. “Find a nice spot with a view, and enjoy ourselves.”
Trewla was on her feet by now. “You do realise it’s a desert, right? Hot, dusty, and dry. If you get lost, you’ll die of thirst in a day.”
“We’ll take plenty of water. Anyway, it’s far too flat to get lost in.”
“The answer is still no.”
“About the picnic,” said Grimmon. “Will there be rat?”
“No. Definitely not!” I said, making surreptitious gestures at him with my fingers as a way of telling him to back off.
“Never mind, I’ll bring my own.” Grimmon grinned at me, showing all his rodent-encrusted pointy teeth. “I’ll stoke up the tourer. See you in the garage in twenty minutes.”
“I’m sure you boys will have a lovely time,” said Trewla over her shoulder as she left the kitchen. “Enjoy your picnic.”
*** Continued in episode 2 ***
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