A Change In The Weather

Chapter 34: A just reward

3 February, 2008 – 10:07 pm

Hillary ran outside to find Eliza holding the Ivory Flute. She seemed completely withdrawn and numb – her face was thin and grey. Scarlet and Thomas, both shivering from the cold, stood behind her looking pale and distant, as if something terrible had just happened.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asked, looking concerned. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘They’ve petrified him,’ said Eliza, her voice was flat and emotionless.

As she spoke she let the flute fall to the ground.

Puzzled, Hillary shook his head. This wasn’t like the Eliza he knew at all.

‘Who’s been petrified?’

‘Torfang,’ she muttered.

Hillary was staggered at the news.

‘But how?’ he said, trying to come to terms with what Eliza had just said. ‘How is that possible?’

Scarlet – sensing that Eliza’s mind was probably not in the best of states to continue at the moment – decided to speak up.

‘A Cockatrice,’ she said, bending over to pick the flute up. ‘It’s chained up outside in the grounds of the estate. We heard its cry.’

Hillary stroked his beard nervously. Something told him that they were in terrible danger.

‘I doesn’t make sense,’ he said.

They used this to summon him.’ she said miserably, holding the flute up, before slipping it into her pocket.

‘When did they use it?’ he asked, trying to understand everything that had happened.

‘Just now.’

‘And how in God’s name did they manage to get hold of it?’

‘They stole the flute from my home,’ she said, with regret. ‘We rushed to the windmill as soon as we knew, but you and Tobias were already on your way to the dinner. So Eliza took the Persephone, and moored it next to the bridge over the Marland.’

She sighed.

‘They summoned Torfang with the flute, and then they turned him to stone using the Cockatrice. Meanwhile, Eliza swooped down as an owl and plucked the flute from them.’

‘I’m surprised you didn’t hear the gun shots.’

‘No.’ replied Hillary, gesturing inside. ‘We couldn’t hear anything inside there. Far too many people being loud. Absolutely atrocious.’

And then he realised just what Scarlet had said.

‘I’m sorry, did you just say gun shots?’ he added.

She nodded. ‘They tried to kill Eliza as she flew off.’

Scarlet’s face was red with anger, but there were other emotions there, too: sadness, despair, frustration, and terror – all being experienced at the same time. It was something that she’d never felt before. She didn’t like it. It was almost as if she was a completely different person.

‘It’s all my fault though Hillary!’ she said, angry at her incompetence. ‘I was meant to look after the flute. Instead I didn’t treat it with enough regard, and kept it under my bed. What a stupid place to hide it. I just didn’t think.’

Hillary said nothing. Instead he just listened to her, allowing her to speak. He knew she was blaming herself for what had happened to Torfang.

‘Why did they turn Torfang to stone though?’

‘Don’t blame yourself Scarlet. They would have found a way to get it even if you’d hidden it better. They knew somehow about the flute, and made it their over-riding priority to get it. Just be thankful that no-one was hurt. In many ways, it was good that it happened the way it did.’

‘But now they need the final ingredient for the spell: the Fire Drake egg. I’m afraid it’s too late now to do anything to help Torfang. It would be a futile gesture.’

‘What?’ replied Scarlet, with incredulity.

She couldn’t believe what Hillary was saying.

‘But he’s the last dragon!’ she shouted, in exasperation. ‘You said yourself how important he was.’

‘Yes, but that’s all changed now. Our main priority is to try to prevent them from getting the egg; from completing the spell.’

‘But how do we do that?’ asked Tobias.

‘I don’t know,’ replied Hillary. ‘But we need to think on our feet, and be quick about it. Where are they now?’

‘Ahem.’

The sound of a polite cough behind them made Hillary spin around so fast he almost fell over. He jumped, half-expecting himself to come face-to-face with one of the Fiery Brand. Instead, Edgar the butler stood in the doorway. He stared imperiously over the top of his half-moon spectacles.

‘Is there anything I can do to help, gentlemen?’ asked Edgar, raising an eyebrow.
Hillary looked surprised.

‘I don’t know. Is there something that you can do?’ he asked, with suspicion. ‘It’s just that, as someone who works here, I find it difficult to trust you.’

Edgar nodded. ‘I realise that sir.’

And then something occurred to Eliza and she moved forward to talk.

‘Just a minute: the caravan!’ she said, suddenly. ‘Are you the author of the diary that’s kept in the caravan?’

‘Why,’ he replied, curiously, ‘how on earth do you know about that?’

The butler looked quite bemused.

‘I have something to show you.’ he said, finally.

‘Please follow me.’

* * * *

Toadflax ran as fast as his little black heart would allow.

It pounded an excited rhythm in his chest. After all, he’d taken the egg from the great dragon, and now his pace quickened and his giggles echoed around the dark wood like a mischievous child at the final realisation of what they’d just done.

Up ahead lay the little stone bridge that led across the river Marland and up into the Winterton estate. He imagined the praise and riches that would be his, and the esteem to which he would be held by the other night spirits – not just in the wood but throughout the land. The thought thrilled him. His infamy would be legend!

As he passed over the bridge - his feet making tiny tip-tap noises on the cobbles - he saw, in the distance, the white stone circle that had decorated the top of Winterton hill for hundreds of years. He remembered seeing that dreadful night daemon Puck dance away from there all those years ago, and he recalled how – with dread and intrigue – he’d followed him silently into the dark wood, where he spied as he watched him disappear into his ancient resting place, the fetid mire of West Ketton, surrounded by those malevolent spirits of the dead; the Will-o-the-wisps; the Ignis Fatuus. Toadflax shuddered at the memory.

They turned his blood even colder than it was already, if that were at all possible.

As he neared the circle, he saw something huge in the middle of the stones, something that looked like a dragon! His heart skipped a beat as he recalled his narrow brush with death earlier, and his pace slowed to a cautious walk. But as he looked, something was different; something didn’t feel quite right. The dragon wasn’t moving at all – it was almost as if he was staring at a statue.

Nevertheless, curiosity compelled him to creep ever closer to the dragon.

‘Don’t concern yourself with the dragon, Toadflax.’

The voice spooked Toadflax, and he felt the urge to run as Godfrey stepped out from behind one of the standing stones, but he resisted as he realised who it was. The remaining members of the Fiery Brand; Augustus, Gideon and Ichabod stepped out from the shadows and approached him, until he was surrounded.

‘It is petrified,’ added Godfrey, gesturing at the immense stone dragon behind him.

‘How did you do that?’ hissed Toadflax, eyes wide with admiration.

His ears twitched at the sound of rattling and shuffling that came from the direction of one of the standing stones. He sniffed the air. It didn’t smell very nice.

‘What’s that noise?’ he asked. ‘That smell?’

The smell didn’t seem quite right, and he became defensive, even more than he was before. He didn’t totally trust these people. In fact he didn’t totally trust anybody - one of the main reasons why he was still king of the goblins after all these years.

Godfrey smiled.

‘Have you brought the item?’ he asked, ignoring the question.

Toadflax nodded, to awed silence he reached into his pack and produced the glistening egg, its shell encrusted with precious stones and minerals. It reflected the moonlight from above, making it appear even more beautiful than it was.

Godfrey reached out and delicately took it.

‘So this is the great Fire Drake egg,’ he whispered. ‘And now it is ours.’

He held it in his hand and admired it for a moment, before handing it carefully to Gideon.

‘You know what to do with it,’ he said.

He turned back to face Toadflax with a friendly smile.

‘You have done well my friend. Your name will stand out in history, and your deeds will be spoken of in hushed tones. You will be remembered with respect, but most importantly, fear. As will the Fiery Brand. Together we will take on the world of Man. And you, my friend, will be central to that plan.’

Toadflax smiled, and Godfrey ushered him over. He placed a hand on Toadflax’s shoulder and walked a while with him. They spoke of their plans, their ambitions and their needs. And then silently, without alarm but with a totally cool head, Godfrey pulled out his pistol and held it against the goblin’s temple.

All Toadflax had time to do was stare sideways at the cold steel pressed against his head, and close his eyes in his final and only act of submission.

‘Here is your reward,’ whispered Godfrey, and pulled the trigger.

The bark of the shot rang out through the night, and Toadflax – king of the goblins for the last five hundred and thirty two years – dropped to the ground, as lifeless as a rag doll

Godfrey nudged him with his foot. Then he turned and walked back to the others, his determined face betrayed no emotion as Toadflax’s body combusted in green flame behind him.

‘Come, let us break this curse once and for all.’

The four figures walked off in the direction of the subterranean tunnel that would lead them all the way back to Winterton Hall…

Posted in A Change In The Weather |