Tag: stories

The Ghastly Exchange – Episode 6

Little by little, the spiralling green mist in my mind thinned.

Something was blocking my mouth. I wheezed and air streamed through my nostrils into my lungs. My tongue felt too thick… and my head ached.

I took another shuddering breath and, as the last wisps of green cleared, I opened my eyes.

My vision was blurred but I could see I was no longer sitting directly opposite Virrellenta.

Had she moved my chair while I’d been under the influence of the mist?

It didn’t seem so for the chair I’d been in earlier was still in the same place. The countess was leaning over a figure sitting in it. A man. He looked familiar. Her arm hid his face as she undid a strap which held a brass bowl on his head.

I blinked rapidly, and my vision cleared.

The man in the chair was wearing my clothes.

The strap came undone and she lifted the bowl. Lit by the half-light of approaching evening, when she moved her arm out of the way I could see him clearly.

He had my face.

My stomach lurched as realisation hit me…

Igor’s machine had worked.

My eyes bulged. That man she was standing next to was me.

Which meant…

I looked down at my lap, trembling at what I would see.

Grubby suit… Calloused hands… I was in Igor’s body…

Dizziness, and a weird sense of dislocation, swept over me.

The moment passed and I looked up to see Virrellenta undo the string holding the wedge in the man’s – my! – mouth.

She bent low and looked in his eyes. “Igor?” she said.

“Yes, my Lady,” said the voice that came from my body. The fact that he sounded exactly like me made my stomach churn.

Virrellenta nodded. “Good. You have done well. I am pleased.”

I ground my teeth on the wooden wedge as I saw a satisfied smile appear on my face.

“The antidote, my Lady?” said Igor.

“Of course.” Virrellenta took a small glass vial filled with blue liquid from her pocket and uncorked it. Igor tipped his head back and she let a drop from the vial fall on his tongue.

It was eerie seeing my body, a few paces away, convulse.

Moments later it stopped shaking, and the hands twitched, followed a breath later by the feet. I had to keep telling myself it was Igor in there – in my body – as the paralysis left him. With a soft groan he moved his arms, shifted his legs, and stood on his feet.

“All is well, my Lady,” he said. “The antidote has worked. I can move normally.”

Virrellenta dropped the vial on the floor. It rolled away under the table, liquid spilling from its open neck.

“Matters have proceeded as planned,” she said. “Let us begin the next phase. Ready the coach and bring it around the front of the house. I will get the goblin and meet you outside.”

Igor nodded. “Very good, my Lady.”

Virrellenta tutted. “You must stop calling me that. It will arouse suspicion. When we get to the castle we will be posing as friends. From now on you will use my name when speaking to me.”

“I… I understand, um… Virrellenta.”

“Vir. You must call me Vir.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Igor swallowed, an uncomfortable look on his face.

“Yes, Vir,” he said.

“Good. Now go.”

With a nod, Igor walked stiffly out of the door.

Virrellenta turned her gaze on me.

“Goodbye Ignatius,” she said. “Take care of Igor’s body.”

She laughed, and accompanied by a flash of lightning which threw a bat-like shadow of her onto the wall, she left the room.

I moaned and tried to force my arms to move, but they remained where they were, as heavy as lead.

My heart thundered at an awful thought which sprang into my mind. Virrellenta had said the potion paralysing me would wear off over the next two weeks. But I would be dead from thirst long before then. She hadn’t thought to leave a jug of water within reach. Or anything to eat, either.

So much for her plan to keep me alive so that the spell affecting the castle would continue to work.

She hadn’t even bothered to unstrap the bowl from my head, or remove the wooden wedge from my mouth.

I bit on it in frustration.

It moved.

My eyebrows shot up.

Before we’d swapped bodies, Igor had put a wedge in his mouth but hadn’t tied it with string to stop it coming out.

I opened my jaws as wide as I could and pushed the wedge with my tongue. It scraped across my teeth and fell out.

“Virrellenta!” I croaked in Igor’s voice. “Come back, you demon!”

What with the rain pelting the window, and the crashes of thunder, I doubted she’d heard me.

Yelling like a madman, I jerked my head from side to side hoping to dislodge the bowl, but all I succeeded in doing was tipping it forward over my eyes.

Blinded and helpless, my neck drooped and I lapsed into bouts of moaning and cursing my idiocy in accepting Virrellenta’s invitation. If I’d politely declined, and returned to the castle, none of this would have happened.

I must have been exhausted, for after an hour of useless raging against the gods, vampires, and evil laboratory assistants, I fell asleep.

The next thing I became aware of was someone fumbling with the chinstrap holding the bowl in place.

My heart lifted. Virrellenta had returned to remove the bowl and, hopefully, leave water and food.

“Ha! I knew you’d come back! So, even vampires feel guilt, eh?” I said, as the strap came undone and the bowl was lifted.

“Vampires?” said a familiar voice.

It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the soft yellow light coming from an oil lamp next to the no-longer-glowing mind swap contraption on the table. My jaw dropped.

“Grimmon?” I said.

“Of course it is.”

I don’t think I’ve ever been as pleased as I was then to see his green features and pointed ears.

“What are you doing here? I thought they’d taken you with them…”

“They’re not as clever as they think. Igor’s potions don’t work on goblins.” He sniffed, looking pleased with himself. “He gave me a potion which he said would cure my upset stomach. Once I’d drank it, he got all smug and told me it wasn’t a cure but a sleeping potion that would knock me out for a week. I pretended to pass out and when he left, I went downstairs after him. I hid in the entrance hall outside the door and heard all about their plan to swap your mind with Igor’s so they could take over the castle.”

“But… But… Why didn’t you come in and stop them stealing my body?”

“What? Little old me take on a vampire and her beefy assistant all on my own? You’ve got to be kidding.” He rubbed his nose. “Anyway, I was distracted.”

“Huh?”

“I spotted a rat in the entrance hall. A really big juicy one. Opportunities like that don’t come every day. And I was peckish.”

“Peckish? You’d been stuffing your face with cakes all afternoon.”

“Yes, but they don’t hit the spot like a rat does. You should try one. I’ve been telling you for years.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake! So while I was being subjected to a fate worse than death, you were scurrying after a snack? I don’t believe it!”

“He was more than a snack!” protested Grimmon. “I mean, really.” He threw his arms in the air. “Anyway, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

I took a deep breath and counted to ten as I slowly let it out.

Making a mental note to continue the current discussion at a more convenient time, I changed the subject.

“What did they do when they didn’t find you sleeping upstairs?” I said.

The countess flew into a rage and stalked outside where you – I mean Igor – was waiting with the coach. They had a row, and when they quietened down they left. I guess they must have come up with a new plan that didn’t include using me.”

“Well, we have to stop them! I have to get my body back! First, we need that vial under the table. It’s the antidote to the potion that’s paralysed me. Get it and bring it here.”

Grimmon crossed his arms and glared at me. “Not until you apologise for being so horrible to me.”

I bit back a sharp reply.

“Sorry,” I said through gritted teeth.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I said sorry! Now get that vial before I…”

“Yes?”

“Never mind.” I swallowed and took another deep breath. “The vial. Please.”

“You see?” he said, walking over to the table. “It wasn’t difficult, was it? A bit of politeness goes a long way.”

He bent down, picked up the vial and peered inside it through its neck.

“Oh dear,” he said. “There’s none left. It’s all spilt out onto the floor.”

*** Continued in Episode 7 ***

The Ghastly Exchange – Index of Episodes

The Ghastly Exchange – Episode 5

We’ve all had times when it feels like the rug’s been pulled out from under our feet, and nothing makes sense.

This was one such time.

Or was my mental sluggishness a side effect of the potion that numbed my body from neck to toe?

I didn’t know. All I was sure of was that Countess Virrellenta and her assistant, Igor, didn’t have my best interests at heart.

With the room half in shadow, lit only by the fading daylight seeping through the window, I watched dry-mouthed as Igor came into my field of vision and placed a side table on the floor between me and the countess. He left and returned a moment later carrying a head-sized contraption consisting of a short, thick cylinder of glass filled with green liquid surrounded by brass tubes, pipes, and wires. He put it on the table, adjusted a dial on its base, then hurried away.

Virrellenta leaned forward, her face bathed in the green glow emanating from the glass cylinder.

“Behold Igor’s masterpiece,” she said. “This beautiful machine will bring about the next step in ushering my plan to fruition.” She ran a finger down its side. “It will transfer Igor’s mind into your body, and your mind into his body.”

Sweat broke out on my forehead. Gagged and paralysed I could do little more than moan in protest.

“You seem concerned.” Virrellenta chuckled. “But rest assured, the machine will work fine.”

While she’d been talking, Igor had returned and was plugging the wires leading from the bowl on my head into the loathsome contraption squatting on the tabletop like a mechanical one-eyed frog from hell.

Virrellenta leaned back and continued talking while Igor dragged another armchair close to the table. “I’ve noticed you haven’t enquired about your uncle Grimmon’s well being.”

If I’d been able to talk, I would have pointed out that I had more pressing matters to be concerned about. She was right, though. I hadn’t spared Grimmon a thought since I’d last seen him in the carriage.

“I imagine that’s because he isn’t your uncle at all,” she said. “How could he be, when he’s a goblin?”

My eyes must have widened, for she said, “Oh, come now. I saw instantly he wasn’t who you said he was. I didn’t even need Igor’s mind-reading device to do so. We don’t have goblins – or any other fairy-folk – in our world, but their memory lives on in folklore, so I had no trouble recognising his real nature. However, you needn’t be concerned about him. He’s an important part of my plan.” She wagged her finger at me. “You gave me the idea yourself when you pretended he was sick.”

My gaze flicked to Igor who was busy connecting a second brass bowl – identical to the one strapped on my head – to the device on the table. Apparently satisfied, he went over to the empty armchair and picked up a small bottle I hadn’t noticed before on the seat. He sat in the chair, placed the bowl on his head and did up the strap. With meticulous movements, he pulled a wooden wedge from his pocket and put it on the arm of his chair.

Finally, he leered in my direction and took a swig from the bottle,

“Ready, my Lady,” he said.

I turned my attention back to Virrellenta as she got to her feet and sauntered over to Igor.

“Can you move your arms? Your legs?” she said.

“No, my Lady. The potion has taken effect,” said Igor.

“Good.” She picked up the wedge and put it in his mouth. “It’s time to begin.”

Turning to me, she said, “I’m sure you understand the need for Igor to take the same potion I gave you. I can’t have you roaming free once your mind is in his body.”

The full impact of what was about to happen hit me. I thrashed my head about and sobbed in helpless rage.

“Oh, don’t fret,” said Virrellenta. “It’s quite unbecoming.” She strolled up to the glowing device. “You must be curious concerning what I said earlier about the idea you gave me. You see, thanks to another of Igor’s potions, your goblin is sleeping peacefully upstairs. Once Igor’s mind is in your body, we’ll take Grimmon to your castle where we’ll tell everyone he’s fallen ill. I’ll pretend to be a doctor and say I have to stay at his bedside constantly to care for him until he recovers. Your friends will be completely taken in because Igor will be there, in your body, vouching for me every step of the way.” She rubbed her hands together. “Poor Grimmon won’t do well. In fact his recovery will be so slow I’ll still be there when your castle moves to another world.”

I moaned.

“What’s that you’re asking?” she said, theatrically cupping a hand behind her ear. “What about you? Oh, you’ll be staying in this world. Your body won’t of course. But, your mind will, what with it being in Igor’s body. You’ll gradually gain the use of his body – or should I say, your new body? – as the potion wears off over the next fortnight. By which time, I’ll be satisfying my appetite on fresh, unsuspecting people in a new world.” She clapped her hands in delight. “The simplest plans are always the best, don’t you agree?”

Ignoring my wails, she pressed down a lever on the machine.

An intense burst of green light streaked from the glass cylinder. The brass bowl on my head pulsed with energy.

I closed my eyes and screamed as pain flooded every inch of my being. My brain vibrated like a plucked violin string. For a breathtaking moment it felt like the entire universe was crammed into my skull.

A yawning vortex filled with swirling green mist, opened beneath me.

For a heartbeat, I dangled like a gnat hovering over bathwater spiralling down a plughole. With a soul-shattering howl, I plummeted like a stone into the whirling emerald morass.

*** Continued in Episode 6 ***

The Ghastly Exchange – Index of Episodes

The Ghastly Exchange – Episode 4

“Are you sitting comfortably?” Virrellenta’s chuckle was throaty and not particularly reassuring. “Of course you are. It’s not like you would know if you weren’t.”

She was right. Not being able to move a muscle or feel a thing below one’s neck tended to have that effect.

“Who are you?” My voice came out in a croak. “What are you doing to me?”

“Ah. Two separate questions hurled at me at once. You must be upset.”

“Upset?” I shrieked. “That’s putting it mildly! You’re not who you said you were and your manservant is about to conduct a fiendish experiment on me!”

“It’s not an experiment at all. But we’ll get to that later.” Virrellenta leant back in her chair. She seemed to be enjoying herself. “As to who I am… I told you the truth. I really am a countess and my name is Virrellenta. Although, I confess I excluded a rather pertinent piece of information.”

“Which is?”

She gazed down her nose at me. “I am a vampire.”

My eyebrows lifted. Those oddities I’d noticed made sense now. Her long canine teeth… The patrons at the coffee shop all hurrying away when she arrived…

“You’ll not have a drop of my blood! I absolutely forbid it!” I would have clenched my fists if I’d been able to move my hands.

“Oh, come now. You’re hardly in a position to deny me that pleasure. However, you needn’t worry. I’m after a far greater prize.”

That got up my nose. Whose blood could be more desirable than the noble stuff flowing through my veins? Not Grimmon’s, surely? His isn’t even red for goodness sake.

I grunted as Igor fussed about the upside-down brass bowl he’d strapped on my head. I couldn’t see what he was doing, but he appeared to be fiddling with the wires attached to the cursed thing. I tried to ignore him and concentrate my ire on Virrellenta.

“What are you talking about?” I said.

“I know you are not from this world.”

My mouth dropped open, but I recovered quickly. It wouldn’t do at all for her follow that line. Things had never gone well on the few occasions the locals of other worlds had come to the same conclusion.

“How dare you? Of course I am! How could I not be?” I put a degree of indignation and disdain into my voice in the hope it would put her off the subject.

She clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, I do love how you become even more arrogant when cornered.” She leaned forward and patted my knee, though I couldn’t feel a thing. “We’re going to have such fun.”

She settled back in her chair and crossed her legs. “You must be curious how I know so much about you.” Without waiting for a reply, she continued. “I can’t take the credit for finding out. It was all down to my faithful assistant, Igor.”

That worthy bent down so I could see his face below the bowl’s rim. He grinned and waved.

He straightened and resumed fussing around the bowl while Virrellenta carried on speaking.

“Igor and I met under rather unusual circumstances. I rescued him from a mob, which I’m sure you’ll agree, isn’t typical behaviour you’d expect from a vampire.” She chuckled. “Let me explain. The mob had already done away with his master – a mad scientist – and Igor had gone on the run. An hour before nightfall, they caught up with him in my garden, and set about him with sticks and boots. They’d already knocked him unconscious and would have beaten him to a pulp if I hadn’t stepped in.” Her face was the most animated I’d seen it. “Being a vampire certainly has its advantages. They fled as soon as I stepped outside my front door.”

The instant I opened my mouth to speak, Igor shoved a wooden wedge between my teeth. “Don’t want you biting off your tongue when we start,” he said, fastening the wedge in place with a cord he tied around my neck.

“I have to confess I didn’t rescue Igor out of any sense of altruism,” went on Virrellenta while all I could do was moan and roll my eyes in horror. “I did so because I was hungry. What with humans getting more practical year after year, things have become difficult for us vampires. People have become so tiresome. They don’t go outside after dark any longer, which is the only time we vampires can feed. I mean, what are they thinking? It’s so underhand.” She sighed. “Anyway, it was nearly night. My fangs had lengthened and were aching to sink into the neck of the man I’d saved… But I held back. I’d sensed there was something different about him. Something that could be useful to me.”

“You’re mad!” I wanted to say, but all that came out around the piece of wood filling my mouth was a garbled croak.

Virrellenta lifted her arm, extended her forefinger and placed it alongside her cheek. She was clearly one of those villains who admire their own cleverness and like nothing more than to drone on about themselves at length.

“You see,” said Virrellenta, ignoring my outraged expression, “What I sensed in Igor was a rare talent: a rather useful ability to combine science with magic. He was exceptionally unusual seeing as the human society of this world abandoned magic over a century ago.” She regarded me for a moment. “We formed a partnership where he develops devices that lull humans into my clutches, while I keep him safe from harm. Our alliance has worked well for years, but lately things have changed. Humans have developed instruments of their own that counteract Igor’s.”

All claptrap as far as I was concerned. The important thing, from my point of view, was what she and her vile assistant had in store for me.

However, I had no choice but to listen as she continued.

“You can imagine how intrigued I was when Igor informed me this morning that one of his devices had detected a huge burst of magic. Further investigation revealed it had been caused by the arrival of an enchanted castle in our world.” Her eyes burned with zeal. “A castle which jumps from one world to the next every fortnight! Do you have any idea what that means to me?”

I gurgled a rude but unintelligible reply around the wedge, but she nodded and took it as encouragement to continue.

“Exactly! Freedom! I was saved! All I had to do was get rid of you and take over your castle. Then I’d have a continuous supply of fresh prey. Think of it! World after world where people don’t know how to protect themselves from me.”

Had I been able to speak I would have pointed out that not every world has a human population.

Besides which, I think the spell that moves the castle is linked to me… I’m not sure Castle Silverhill will go anywhere without me.

As that last thought ran through my mind, I breathed easier. She couldn’t risk killing me.

Then my heart sank. She wasn’t to know that. Gagged as I was, how was I to tell her?

I tried to attract her attention by moaning and rolling my eyes, but she ignored me and carried on with her monologue.

“When you left your castle this afternoon, Igor’s array of instruments tracked you and read your mind, which is why I knew your name – and more – when we met. After that, your inflated ego made it child’s play to lure you here. It helped that Igor took the precaution of using a device of his making to soothe your suspicions.”

Numbed though it was, by body trembled. The fiendish bowl strapped to my head was going to kill me by frying my brains. I was sure of it.

Virrellenta steepled her fingers. “After reading your mind, I have been forced to accept a small adjustment to my plan. It seems killing you might end your castle’s world hopping behaviour.”

My eyes lit up. So she knew after all. I was saved.

“Don’t be disappointed. Igor has come up with an alternative plan that, I have to say, is brilliant. The instrument strapped on your head is going to swap your mind with his.”

*** Continued in episode 5 ***

The Ghastly Exchange – Index of Episodes

The Ghastly Exchange – Episode 3

I stepped down from the coach and cast my eye at the brooding, dark house looming over us. There was an empty feeling about the place, like it hadn’t been lived in for years.

I frowned. What a ridiculous thing to think. This was Virrellenta’s home after all.

Any hope I’d had that I’d recognise the place, and thus remember previously meeting Vir, evaporated.

A delicate cough distracted me. Remembering my manners, I turned back to the coach, took Vir’s hand in mine and helped her alight.

When I looked back at the house I still couldn’t shake that impression of emptiness.

The light dimmed as a cloud drifted over the sinking sun. It got me wondering why I had accepted the countess’ invitation so late in the afternoon.

There were rules drummed into me by my father, tutor, and just about anyone else who’d had a hand in raising me, concerning what not to do on the first day in a new world.

Never Stay Out After Dark was top of the list, along with Never Accept Invitations From Strangers.

I always thought that second one should have said ‘Locals’ seeing as everybody in a new world was a stranger.

On the other hand… even though Vir was a local, was she really a stranger?

The castle had arrived in this world only that morning, yet she’d recognised me. Known my name.

I burned with the need to find out how. That was why I was here, I told myself.

I was confident a chat with her over tea and biscuits would solve the puzzle. After that I’d make excuses and leave. Igor would take us back to town where Grimmon and I would pick up our coach from the inn where we’d left it.

If we played our cards right, we’d be back at the castle while the night was still young.

I grimaced. I was sure all would be well. This was such a pleasant, civilised world, after all.

Vir’s dainty boots crunched onto the gravelled driveway and I released her hand.

I’d yet to work out how to keep Igor from whisking Grimmon away, and was getting myself into a knot when it occurred to me, all I had to do was make sure he stayed in the coach. Not only would that prevent Grimmon being revealed as a goblin, it would mean we could leave without delay once I had the answer I sought.

Grimmon, shrouded by the tablecloth, was already halfway through the coach’s door. I stretched up and pushed him back inside. “Stay in the coach, uncle. Lie down on the seat. You’ll soon feel as right as rain.”

Vir tutted. “Don’t be so cruel. He’ll be cold in there. Besides, Igor needs to put the coach away and stable the horses. I promise once he’s done that, he’ll take care of your uncle.”

“We don’t wish to impose.” I glanced at the sky. The clouds were getting thicker. Darkness was coming sooner than I’d thought. If Igor put the coach away, he’d have to get it out again and hitch the horses to it when we left. That would mean even more delay.

A rumble of distant thunder added to an already strong sense of foreboding creeping up my spine.

“It’s getting late,” I said. My breath shuddered in my chest. “We should be heading back.”

“I won’t hear of it,” said Vir taking my arm.

At her touch, my anxiety vanished. I didn’t resist as she guided me up the steps to the front door.

For the first time it struck me she must have fallen on hard times. The steps were strewn with dead leaves, the balustrades were spotted with moss, and the garden was choked with weeds, brambles and nettles.

That, along with the fact that despite the gloom no-one had lit a single lamp in the house, probably meant she had no staff apart from Igor.

Whatever his tasks were, they certainly didn’t involve housework or gardening.

The front door creaked as Vir pushed it open. “Welcome to my home.” Her lips stretched in a smile.

Lightning flashed, and it may have been a trick of the stark light, but I could have sworn her canine teeth had grown longer.

Any misgiving I felt were smoothed away by the gentle touch of her hand on my arm as she lead me inside.

The hallway was impressively high and wide, but in the half-light, with its marble tiles coated in dust and ceiling hidden by cobwebs, it was a shadow of what it once must have been.

Vir led me into a sitting room and tugged a dust sheet from an armchair.

“Sit,” she said. “Make yourself comfortable.”

I sank into the chair and looked around while she removed the dust sheet from the chair opposite. Lit only by the fading light coming through the window, stern faced men and women stared down from a row of portraits on the wall above a huge marble fireplace. Cobwebs dangled from a chandelier in the centre of the pressed ceiling. A table and sideboard covered with sheets stood along one wall.

Vir sat down opposite me, her eyes on mine, and held out her hand to one side. Someone passed her a crystal glass quarter filled with amber liquid.

I blinked. Igor was standing next to her. I hadn’t seen him arrive.

He pressed a similarly filled glass into my hand.

“To our chance meeting,” said Vir, raising her glass.

Things weren’t going quite how I’d thought they would. Something seemed off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

Perhaps a drink would clear my head.

“Cheers,” I mumbled, and took a sip.

It was brandy. A good one, if I was any judge. It burned as it ran down my throat and infused my belly with a warm glow.

As pleasant as the company and brandy was, time wasn’t on my side. There was a reason I’d come here.

“This is nice,” I said. “But I wish I wasn’t at such a loss to remember where we met before…”

She tipped back her head and laughed. “We haven’t.”

“But you said…”

“It was an untruth.” Her mouth stretched into a complacent smile. Her canine teeth had definitely become more pronounced.

“But…” I took a gulp of brandy to settle my nerves. “How did you know my name?”

“It’s a fascinating story. I’ll tell you while Igor gets you ready for what happens next.”

My eyebrows shot up. “What? He’ll do no such thing!”

I tried to stand, but my body refused to respond. The glass fell from my hand. Amber drops splashed across the floorboards.

My limbs wouldn’t move. From my neck down my body was numb.

The countess leaned forward and patted my knee, a ruby glow in the black pits of her eyes. “We’re going to have such fun.”

I caught sight of a movement out of the corner of my eye. Igor was walking towards me, a brass bowl in his hands. Wires trailed from dozens of electrodes arranged around its rim.

My insides turned to ice as he placed the bowl on my head and tightened a strap under my chin.

*** Continued in episode 4 ***

The Ghastly Exchange – Index of Episodes

The Ghastly Exchange – Episode 2

The cup of coffee on the table in front of Countess Virrellenta remained untouched. She’d barely glanced at it when the waiter had brought our order, despite his hands shaking so badly the crockery had clattered when he’d taken the cups from his tray. He’d mumbled something, sweat trickling down his brow, and had hurried away before I could reprimand him.

Remembering his odd behaviour, I resolved he’d not get a tip from me and turned my attention back to Vir.

Sipping my coffee as she talked, I gazed again at her fine features and aristocratic bearing wondering how we could have previously met as she’d claimed.

She didn’t look familiar to me at all. Was what she had said true? Had the castle visited this world before? I didn’t recognise the place, but then in my lifetime the castle has taken me, and everyone else in it, to far too many worlds to remember them all. Still, it was an extraordinary claim and had pulled the rug out from under me… It meant it was possible we could return to Trewla’s world one day. That thought made my heart sink.

“So, what do you say?” she said.

I’d been so lost in my musings it took me a moment to realise Vir had asked me a question.

“Um… Yes?” I ventured.

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Wonderful. You’re going to love my home.”

A sound of choking burst from Grimmon.

I turned to him with a frown of annoyance which quickly turned to alarm. His long nose and one of his eyes had joined his right ear in reverting to their true goblin form. On top of that, his cheeks were entirely green. The spell of disguise was fading fast and there was no way I could cast it again without anyone noticing.

Crumbs and cream dribbled down his chin as he mouthed ‘no’ and shook his head at me.

“Your uncle doesn’t look well,” said Vir. “Those pastries don’t appear to have agreed with him.”

Seizing the lifeline she’d unwittingly thrown to me, I said, “You’re right. Poor fellow’s taken ill.” I gave Grimmon’s chair a helpful shove with my foot. It scraped away a couple of feet across the paving. “Toddle back to our carriage and have a lie down, there’s a good chap.”

“Your carriage? Where did you leave it?” asked Vir.

“At an inn a few streets away.”

“You can’t expect your uncle to walk all that way in his condition.” Vir lifted a hand and snapped her fingers.

There was a flurry of footsteps and a short, thin man with stooped shoulders and black greasy hair, his eyes prominent in his pockmarked face, appeared next to our table.

He must have been lurking close by. Strange I hadn’t noticed him. Wondering what else I might have missed, I glanced around. Every table in the cafe was empty. The place had been packed when Grimmon and I had arrived.

Apart from a few distant figures who seemed to be hurrying away, the street was devoid of traffic and people. It was late afternoon so I reasoned perhaps it was customary in this town for everyone to go home for an early supper. Odd, though.

“Igor, bring my carriage around to the front of the cafe at once,” Vir said.

“Very good, my lady,” said the man. He inclined his head and walked off around the corner.

“We will take your uncle with us,” said Vir, placing her hand over mine. “You must be terribly worried about him. My servant, Igor, will care of him when we get to my house.”

“That won’t be necessary,” I said. “He’s a tough old bird. He’s well enough to walk to the inn.”

The poor woman must have been feeling the cold terribly for her hand was like ice. “I insist,” she said.

There was something in her tone which made me hesitate. Not wanting to give the impression I was heartless, I said, “Thank you. You’re too kind.”

She smiled. I was convinced her teeth were a little longer.

I was distracted by a thudding of hooves. I looked up to see a black carriage drawn by two fine, black horses rolling around the corner towards us.

I flicked a glance at Grimmon. He was becoming greener by the second.

“My poor, dear uncle,” I said, retrieving my hand and springing to my feet. “You’re catching a chill.”

I plucked a tablecloth from a nearby table and draped it over his head, making a hood that hid his face in its shadows.

“There. That will keep you warm,” I said.

The carriage pulled to stop and Igor clambered down from the driver’s seat. I looked around for the waiter to ask for the bill, but there was no sign of him.

Vir got to her feet and took my arm. “Come. I can’t wait to show you around my home.”

I pulled a silver coin from my pocked and dropped it on the table. I had no small change and that coin would more than cover the cost of the coffees, Grimmon’s pastries, and the tablecloth. I ground my teeth. It seemed the waiter would get an undeserved tip after all. A large one, at that.

As Vir guided me to her carriage, I noticed a peculiar design painted on its door. A faint tingle of recognition wafted across my brain, but Igor whipped the door open before I could examine it further.

Once Vir and I were seated side by side, Igor helped Grimmon into the carriage. He sat opposite us, keeping his head bowed and tugging the tablecloth forward to hide his face. I thought I heard him whisper something, but I couldn’t make out the words.

Vir banged her hand on the roof, and the carriage moved off, rumbling over the cobbles as we passed down the street.

“You needn’t worry,” she said. “Igor has a vast collection of potions and remedies. Your uncle will be as right as rain in no time.”

I grunted something in reply. My head was spinning to come up with a way to keep Grimmon close by when we reached her home. That way I could fend off any attempts to remove the tablecloth hiding his face. But if Igor took him away to treat him, all would be lost. He’d discover Grimmon wasn’t a doddery old man, and seeing as this was a world without goblins, I’d have an awful lot of explaining to do. Things could get more than a little awkward and, worst of all, I’d probably never get to the bottom of how Vir had known my name.

The coach left the town and soon we were bowling along a meandering road through open countryside. Vir pointed out things of interest as we passed them – an ancient sycamore, a graveyard, a hovel whose ragged occupants scuttled inside at our approach, a stone bridge over a river – and it didn’t seem long before the coach was rumbling alongside a high stone wall.

Vir squeezed my arm. “We’re here.”

We turned into a driveway and I caught a glimpse of a large, steep-roofed house, its walls dark against the bruised clouds gathering in the distance. Vacant-eyed windows stared blindly at the overgrown garden, and a pair of spires clawed at the darkening sky.

Then the coach completed its turn and that view was gone. All I could see out of the coach’s windows were the gnarled trunks of leafless oaks on either side of the drive.

Vir’s cold hand squeezed mine. “You’re going to like it here so much you won’t want to leave.”

*** Continued in episode 3 ***

The Ghastly Exchange – Index of Episodes

The Ghastly Exchange – Episode 1

“You’re lucky she’s still talking to you,” said Grimmon, stuffing an entire pastry into his mouth and slurping his coffee with such cacophonous enthusiasm it turned the heads of the cafe’s other patrons our way.

I ignored him and pretended to read the newspaper that had been left on our table by a previous diner.

It’s always like this when the castle visits a world where the folk are civilised. If I venture out across the moat, I invariably end up in Grimmon’s company. And without fail, when we mix with the locals – the respectable ones anyway – I fervently wish I’d had the good sense to leave him behind at the castle.

It’s not that I like to spend time with him, but everybody I ask to accompany me either downright refuses or is suddenly too busy. I never ask Grimmon. He volunteers. And after my initial refusals and his persistent nagging, I always relent.

The ‘she’ he’d just referred to was Trewla, the elf whose heart I was sure I was winning over, despite her inexplicable reluctance to forgive me for an incident which wasn’t my fault.

Thanks to a series of misunderstandings and mishaps – non of which were of my doing – I had ended up with the contents of an ancient wizard’s spellbook lodged in my mind. Those contents, Trewla never tires of reminding me, should be safely returned to the now blank book where they had come from so she can access them, instead of swilling around in my head. The trouble was, that blank book had gone missing.

I didn’t mind.

Not that I could use the wizard’s spells lodged inside my noggin myself, you understand. They were as clear to me as the calculations on a shredded tax return viewed through the wrong end of a telescope. No, the reason for my lack of interest was that Trewla was convinced the way back to her world was hidden among those spells.

Once the empty spellbook is found and I return the spells to it, she’ll begin her search.

That will be a disaster. If she succeeds, I’ll never see her again.

Besides which, I don’t need some dodgy wizard’s spellbook myself, anyway. 

If you’ve followed my previous escapades you’ll know I have a spellbook of my own –  a superior one, in my opinion – and I’m not averse to casting the odd spell from it when the need arises.

When the wizard had rudely thrust his book’s spells into my head, they’d blotted out my memory of my own spells. Since then, however, I’d refreshed my memory by thumbing through my spellbook’s pages a few times. I’d even cast one of them that very morning to disguise Grimmon’s unappealing goblin exterior.

On our journey from the castle to the town, we’d established that this world seemed to be one of those where goblins, trolls, and other fairy folk no longer exist. So as not to alarm the gentle townsfolk with Grimmon’s green, pointy-eared exterior, I’d given him the appearance of a tiny, wizened old man. A rather disheveled, grubby example it must be said, but there was only so much the spell could do given the poor material it had to work with.

Holding up the newspaper to block my view of him, I gazed in contentment at our surroundings.

It was a pleasant autumn afternoon with the sun casting a golden glow over the graceful shopfronts and facades of the buildings nestled side by side along the attractively paved street. Smartly attired couples strolled along the pavements, and gleaming coaches drawn by sleek horses rolled past. Most of the elegant chairs and tables of the cafe where we were seated were occupied by gentlemen and ladies of a refined and tasteful appearance.

I nodded to myself in approval. There were no riffraff to spoil the view. The burly uniformed gentlemen we’d seen around the town must be there to keep them out.

A few people at nearby tables were casting admiring glances at my outfit of silk top hat, navy blue tailcoat, grey trousers, white linen shirt, and burgundy waistcoat. My ensemble was tastefully completed by a plum and yellow spotted cravat. I pushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear, pleased my innate sense of sophisticated style was being appreciated.

Grimmon hissed and leaned closer. “Stop preening yourself. You look like you stole your clothes from a jester’s washing line.”

“You’re just jealous.” I crossed my legs and leaned back in my chair. “Unlike you uncivilised lot at the castle, people here recognise quality when they see it.”

Grimmon shifted on the thick cushion that raised him high enough to see over the edge of the table. “Quality? You wouldn’t know quality if it bit you on the–”

He broke off as a shadow fell across our table.

I looked up. A tall, slender woman in a long black dress stood next to us, gazing intently at me, her brow wrinkled.

“Ignatius?” she said.

For a second I was speechless.

How could she possibly know my name? Any worker of magic will tell you there’s power in names, and I rarely tell mine to anyone. On top of that, we couldn’t have met before. As far as I know, the castle has never visited the same world twice.

Something strange was going on. My plan to spend the rest of the afternoon purchasing supplies had just been thrown out of the window. I had to get to the bottom of how this striking woman claimed she knew me.

“Charmed,” I said, standing and offering my hand. “In the presence of your beauty I’m afraid my mind has gone completely blank. Lady…?.”

I held the paper to the side to block her view of Grimmon rolling his eyes.

Her handshake was cool but firm. Her fingers brushed my palm as she let go.

“Countess Virrellenta,” she said. “Vir to my friends.”I’m hurt you don’t remember.”

“Allow me to make up for my churlishness. Sit with me.” I pulled out a chair for her and waved at the apron-clad waiter.

We sat, her eyes staring into mine. Her pupils were as black as bottomless wells.

Grimmon gave a theatrical cough.

“I beg your pardon,” I said to Vir. “Allow me to introduce my, um, great uncle Grimmon.”

As she began to turn her head towards the goblin, a bolt of alarm shot up my spine. The spell disguising his real appearance was wearing off. His skin had gained a green sheen, and one of his ears had reverted to its true pointed form.

I slapped my palm on the table. Her gaze flicked back to me. “But enough of him,” I said in a shrill tone. “Tell me about yourself. What are you doing here?”

“In town, you mean?”

Unsure how to answer, I smiled.

“The same as you, I expect. My larder requires replenishing.” She returned my smile.

My eyes widened at the sight of her unusually long canines.

*** Continued in episode 2 ***

The Ghastly Exchange – Index of Episodes