A Worry with Warlocks – Episode 5
Hard stone smacked into my back, replacing the soft sand I’d been lying on. The sunlight snapped out and was supplanted by a feeble orange light, which barely made it through the lung-clogging cloud of dirt whirling around me.
I lifted my head when, moments later, the dust slowed its frantic gyrations and began to settle. Coughing and spitting, I stood, blinking the grit from my eyes as the air cleared.
The first thing my gaze was drawn to was a flickering torch casting a sickly yellow light on the stone wall on which it was mounted. Seconds ago, I’d been in a sunlit desert and it took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the gloom.
My heart sank.
There were coarse stone walls on all sides, a rough floor, and a stone ceiling. The doorway was blocked by an iron grille, its bars gleaming in the torchlight. Chains dangled from iron rings fastened to the walls.
A sneeze followed by a phlegmy cough came from somewhere near my feet.
Grimmon stirred and sat up, his face covered in dust. Grains of sand, glistening with damp, clung to his upper lip.
“Where are we?” he said.
“We’re in a dungeon by the look of it.” I took off my hat and banged it on my thigh to knock off the dirt.
“Eh? I thought Akalemmo said he was sending us to his tower. Towers don’t have dungeons.”
“There are manacles and chains fixed to the walls. I’m fairly certain this isn’t his guest suite.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure, if were you.” Grimmon wiped his nose on his sleeve. “He might be in to that sort of thing.”
“Well, if he is, look what happened to his last guest.” I pointed at what I had at first thought was a pile of rubbish, but now that my eyes had adjusted to the low light I had realised was a skeleton, a few rags clinging to its bones, chained to the wall.
For the space of a few breaths Grimmon and I stared at the dead prisoner. The grinning skull’s eye sockets stared back.
“This is all your fault, you know,” said Grimmon, getting to his feet. He banged his palms against his coat, producing a musty-smelling cloud of dust. “Akalemmo was friendly until you accused him of being a wizard. What in the world possessed you to do that?”
“He was hardly friendly. He accused us of trespassing.” I glared at Grimmon and stepped back to avoid choking on the fetid mass of dust filling the air around him. “And he acted like a wizard. You must have seen him showing off? You know, all that arm waving and making gaudy circles of fire in the air?”
“So what? You could have kept your mouth shut instead of provoking him!” He finished patting the dust out of his clothes, licked his fingers and used the spittle to smooth down the few wisps of hair which trailed across his mottled-green scalp.
“It’s not my fault warlocks have chips on their shoulders. I mean, just because they don’t go to university like wizards do, doesn’t make them idiots. So, why did he act like one?”
“At least Akalemmo seems to know what he’s doing when it comes to magic, unlike you. All you do is dabble.”
“I don’t dabble. I confess I’m still learning, but at least I don’t go around showing off and getting offended every time someone opens their mouth!”
Grimmon shook his head. “You really should take a closer look at yourself.”
I huffed. “Arguing isn’t get us anywhere. We should be devoting our energy to getting out of this mess.”
I strode over to the grille blocking the doorway and gave it a vigorous shake. It rattled but stayed firmly shut.
“Damn you!” I yelled through the bars. “Let us out of here at once!”
The only answer were the echoes of my voice from the corridor that lay beyond the door.
I whirled around, my blood boiling.
“How dare he? I’m beginning to–”
I broke off and stared at Grimmon who was seated with his back against the wall, his jaw moving rhythmically in a chewing action. On his lap was the square of greasy paper his lunch had been wrapped in. And on that lay two blackened, burned rats. The third rat, minus its head, was in his hand.
“What are you doing?” I asked, genuinely mystified.
“It’s lunchtime. I’m eating.”
“We’re locked in a dungeon along with a dead body, and all you can think about is eating?”
Grimmon cocked his head. “I’m hungry.” He looked at me like I he thought my brain had suddenly shrunk and fallen out of my ear.
I was about to give him a good telling off, when I spotted something else lying on the paper alongside the rats.
“You have a knife!” I said. “Why didn’t you say so? We can use it to threaten Akalemmo! Force him to let us go!”
I grabbed it, marched back to the grille and shouted into the corridor. “Ha! You’re a fake! You’re probably not even a proper warlock, never mind a wizard! Come down here and I’ll show you a thing or two about magic!”
Looking over my shoulder at Grimmon, I whispered, “When he comes into the cell, you distract him. I’ll sneak up behind him and threaten him with the knife.”
I moved next to the grille out of sight of anyone who came down the corridor towards us, my back to the wall.
With a thundering heart, I waited.
Nothing happened.
Still I waited. Nothing happened again.
“I can’t believe it! I was sure he would–” I broke off and stared at a rope dangling next to me from somewhere above my head. “That wasn’t there earlier, was it?”
Grimmon’s forehead furrowed. “I’m not sure. I didn’t notice it until now.”
“It must be a bell-pull,” I said. “Look, it has a tassel on the end and everything.”
“If it’s a bell-pull, why is attached to that?” Grimmon pointed at a basket suspended from the ceiling. The rope was fastened to one side of the wickerwork.
“It’s obvious! There must be a bell inside. When you pull the rope, the basket will rock and make the bell ring.”
“I don’t think so. Why would anyone go to all the trouble of putting a bell inside a basket, when they could just hang a bell on its own? I have a bad feeling about it. I don’t think you should touch it.”
“Nonsense!” I gave the rope a sharp tug.
The basket tipped over. Something like a long, heavy piece of cord as thick as my arm, fell onto my shoulders.
“Aaaaaaah!” shrieked Grimmon. “Snake!”
I jumped about and dislodged the ghastly thing. It dropped to the floor and reared. With its cold, beady eyes stared into mine, it opened its mouth, hissed, and displayed its fangs.
“Don’t panic!” I stumbled backwards a pace. “I have a spell that will sort this out!”
“No!” Grimmon jumped to his feet, sending his rats flying. “Please don’t!”
He was too late, for the words of magic were already leaving my lips.
Thaumaturgical particles whirled out of the air and enclosed the snake in a cocoon of blazing blue light.
“You see?” I crowed. “I’ve trapped it inside a magic stasis envelope! There’s no chance it will escape from that!”
I stepped up to the cocoon and gave it a sharp kick with the toe of my boot. There was a bright flash. My eyes filled with spots and I lurched to the rear.
It took several seconds for my vision to clear.
When it did, I found myself face to face with a rather large and very annoyed dragon.
Rattling the scales along its back, it snarled, bared its teeth, and treaded towards me.
*** Continued in episode 6 ***
