While You Are Sleeping

Chapter One - While He Was Sleeping

2010-02-12T22:52:00.002Z

It was just another ordinary night, but Eric, for one, didn’t like the look of things at all.

"I'll have that ... and I'll have that ... and I'll, um, maybe not have that one actually," he muttered to himself, as he lobbed a shifty-looking yellow-stained sock into the far corner of the darkened bedroom.

Looking at the other socks he held in his hand – a whiffy white sports sock and a slightly grimy black dress sock – he figured they’d do just nicely and shoved them into the large sack that he held in his other hand. The sack was beginning to get quite heavy; heavy even for a pretty strong elf like him.

"Eric," said a voice behind him, a voice that was almost too posh-sounding to be genuine but, genuinely enough, really was that posh.

Eric glanced over his shoulder and cast a quizzical look at the green-skinned goblin standing behind him, smartly-dressed in a freshly-pressed suit and cream silk cravat.

"Yes, Flik-Flak."

In the near-darkness of the room, Eric could only just make out the silhouette of his team captain. He was lucky to have even managed that what with his dodgy eyes and all. He really could do with getting himself a pair of spectacles at some point before too long. Maybe a nice pair with tinted lenses like he had seen in the market in...

Flik-Flak cleared his throat with a little cough.

"Yes, I was wondering if you would like any assistance tonight? I'm at a bit of a loose end this evening once again. It seems that this poor boy doesn't really require my services, so to speak. His hair is so messy, anyway, I rather doubt if he'd notice if I ruffled it for him," he explained with a hint of dejection in his voice.

Eric shook his head and smiled apologetically.

"Sorry, boss. I'm having a bit of a tough night myself. I don't know what it is about these students, but they never seem to have anything but mismatched socks. There doesn't seem much point in me taking any, since, like you said, I'd doubt they'd notice anyway." Flik-Flak nodded his head in resignation. Eric had a thought. "Maybe you could give Chuckles a hand, boss. It’s a pretty safe bet that the human, being a student and all, deserves having one heck of a hangover in the morning, so I think Chuckles has really been taking his time over this one so that the mark wakes up with an absolute stinker. Chuckles has had the measuring stick out twice already getting everything lined up just perfectly."

Flik-Flak turned towards where Eric was pointing. With his near-perfect night vision, he could clearly see their stocky dwarf friend clutching a measuring stick in one hand and carefully tiptoeing around the boy's head as it lay embedded in the pillow. Resting against the side of the bed was a brilliantly polished ornate iron warhammer. Flik-Flak strolled towards the bed.

"Chuckles," he whispered, but just loud enough to catch the dwarf's attention.

"Uh-huh," said Chuckles, the gruffly uttered syllables struggling to escape past his thick beard and, well, just his disinterest in general.

"I'm at a bit of a loose end tonight and Eric suggested that perhaps you could use a hand. Would this be true, perchance?"

Chuckles walked over to the side of the bed and retrieved his warhammer. His eyes lit up with happiness and, turning away from Flik-Flak, he moved towards the boy once again, giving the warhammer a quick swing as he did so.

"Chuckles?"

Chuckles glanced over his shoulder, casting a dark glower at his team captain.

"No," he said flatly.

Flik-Flak's shoulders slumped and he turned round to see if any of the other members of his team needed assistance. A muffled groan from the kitchen next door attracted his attention and he set off to investigate. As he reached the bedroom door, however, he happened to look back and saw Eric watching with fascination as Chuckles hovered the flat surface of the warhammer above the boy's head and slowly began to lift it high into the air. Flik-Flak opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. A shiver ran down his spine as he heard the familiar THUD of a headache being applied.

"Always sounds so painful, doesn't it? You wonder sometimes how no one ever gets woken up by it."

Flik-Flak looked down the dimly lit hallway and saw the plump figure of his team’s fairy, Tracy, hovering slowly towards him. With her bizarre white and black make-up and her flowing black dress, she was the very image of the modern-day Goth fairy. It was hard to believe she used to be a tooth fairy. In her hand, she was clutching a set of house keys.

"Any suggestions, Flicky?" she asked, looking around for a good hiding place to put the keys.

Flik-Flak bristled slightly at the lack of formality in the tone of her voice. Nonetheless, he had a quick glance about.

"Ooh, I don't know, Tracy. Maybe over by –"

He cut himself short as Tracy beat him to the punch and hid the keys in a tattered trainer lying in the corner next to the front door.

"Sorted," she said. "Not overly original, I know, but a classic hiding place nonetheless. Time for a quick break, I think."

Flik-Flak watched as Tracy took a battered wand out of her little black purse, tapped it once on her other hand, then instantaneously shrank to the size of a fly (albeit one that was glowing brightly). She quickly buzzed off through the keyhole in the front door.

Just as Flik-Flak looked away, there was an almighty CRASH in the room directly opposite, which was quickly followed by a flurry of cursing and muttered threats. Flik-Flak shook his head and pushed the door open. He stopped dead in his tracks, appalled at the scene in front of him. The room was supposed to be a kitchen, but now it looked more like a bombsite. This would never do.

"What in blazes has been going on in here?" he demanded to know.

A messy-looking orc pulled its pig-like head out of the bin, taking a half-eaten chicken with it and spilling an almost full tin of beans onto the floor. Its mouth, still full of thrown-away food, contorted into an uneasy smile.

"It wasn't me," it muttered, then stuffed a handful of cold brussel sprouts into its mouth, swallowing them whole. "Whatever you're talking about, it wasn't me. I swear it."

Flik-Flak put his hands on his hips and shook his head slowly.

"Rodney, there's no one else in here," he said. "What have I told you before about lying?"

The bemused orc scratched the side of his muck-covered head for a second.

"Let sleeping dogs do it?" he suggested hopefully.

Flik-Flak took a deep breath and counted to ten in his head.

"No, not quite. I told you that at the end of the day the only person you will ever hurt by lying is yourself. Honesty is always the best policy."

Rodney nodded momentarily, then stopped, thought for a moment and scratched his head again.

"But … but I thought you said last week that life insurance was the best policy."

Flik-Flak closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. He bypassed ten and kept counting until he reached fifty. Just as he finished counting, suddenly there was another loud CRASH. It came from inside one of the cupboards at the far end of the kitchen. Beginning to suspect the true cause of all the racket, Flik-Flak walked over to the cupboard and quickly pulled the door open. An ugly looking troll was sitting inside the cupboard, with its hairy legs pushed up into its hairy chest and a frying pan in one hand and a bag of rotten eggs in the other. Next to it was a pile of dented pots and pans and broken crockery.

"Hello, Peter," Flik-Flak said wearily. "I might have known it was you making that racket."

Peter smiled sheepishly and put the frying pan down.

"This looks bad, doesn't it?" he said. "I … I can explain."

Flik-Flak rather doubted it.

"Care to explain standing out here, or do you want to stay in the cupboard?"

Peter thought for a moment.

"Can I explain from here?"

Flik-Flak shook his head disapprovingly. Peter quickly climbed out of the cupboard.

"That's two nights in a row where you've caused a disturbance while we've been working," Flik-Flak said flatly. "I let you off lightly yesterday, but I want a better explanation today."

"I do apologise," Peter said softly. He quickly looked around the kitchen. "But it wasn't my fault. Honestly. I don't want to get Pigkiller in trouble or anything, though."

"Pigkiller? What's Pigkiller got to do with you crashing about in the kitchen cupboards?"

Just then, as if by magic, the kitchen door swung open.

"Aye, min. What've I got to do with you no doing your job right, like?"

Flik-Flak looked round. And then down. The impressively muscular figure of Pigkiller strode purposefully into the kitchen. All two foot tall of him. The war-painted pygmy glowered up at Peter. If looks could kill...

"Aye, well?”

Peter swallowed hard and wiped some sweat from his brow with his hairy hand.

"Pigkiller?" he said quickly. "I don't recall saying Pigkiller." He looked in the direction of Rodney. "Did you hear me say Pigkiller?" Rodney's head was back inside the bin and totally oblivious to what was going on. "I think you all must have misheard me or something."

Flik-Flak and Pigkiller weren't impressed by Peter's stalling. Peter wiped some more sweat from his brow and laughed nervously.

"Okay, the truth then,” he muttered. “If you must know, I was hiding from Pigkiller.” Flik-Flak glanced down at Pigkiller in surprise. Pigkiller just kept glowering up at Peter. If looks had never killed anyone before, then this look – the mother of all nasty looks – was coming mighty close. “He's been giving me a hard time these last couple of nights,” Peter continued nervously. “I was busy looking for somewhere to hide my bag of rotten eggs when I thought I heard him coming into the kitchen, so I quickly hid in the nearest cupboard. Unfortunately, it was one that was full of crockery and pots and pans. I'm afraid I may have, um, accidentally knocked a few about and broken one or two things."

They all looked into the cupboard. Everything was either broken or dented.

"Why were you holding the frying pan?" Flik-Flak asked. "You weren't planning to hit Pigkiller, were you?"

Peter looked down at Pigkiller, whose hands were inching closer to the array of daggers on the leather belt around his waist.

"No, no, I wasn't,” he answered quickly. “It was the only pan I managed to avoid breaking so I was just holding it for safe-keeping."

"Aye, likely," Pigkiller muttered.

Flik-Flak thought it sounded plausible enough, though. But why Pigkiller was giving Peter such a hard time was a different matter altogether. He drew his silver pocket watch from his waistcoat and looked at the largest of the three dials on its face. Seventy minutes past thirty. He tapped the face once and the dial quickly re-arranged itself to reveal the time in the Overworld (or Earth, as the humans strangely seemed to call it).

Hmm, five past four in the morning, Flik-Flak thought to himself. There wasn't enough time to get to the bottom of the problem just now. They had to leave in five minutes.

"I think we'll have to discuss this fully at another time," he said, putting his watch away again. "In the meantime, gentle-people, I suggest you two stay out of each other's way." He looked down at Pigkiller. "Pigkiller, you go back through to the bedroom and tell the others to finish up."

"Aye, I suppose I can do that," Pigkiller said.

With one last glower at Peter - and a scarcely audible muttered threat to boot - he turned around and headed back out of the kitchen. As the door swung shut again, Flik-Flak turned back to Peter.

"I don't know what's going on here, but I do know that there's an almighty mess in that cupboard." Peter bowed his head in shame. "We're going to have to make it look like the human made the mess himself. You go and hide your bag of rotten eggs somewhere and I'll see if I can cover our tracks a little. Okay?"

Peter nodded and sloped off to the far end of the kitchen to find a suitable place to hide the bag. Flik-Flak shook his head in exasperation and then turned his attention back onto the broken contents of the cupboard. His eyes wandered over to the next cupboard, which was also open, and he spotted a tray of eggs and some flour. He smiled as a cunning plan started to form in his head.

Eric tightly pulled the drawstring on his sack and finished it off with his favourite triple-finger-nipper elf knot. Anyone who attempted to open the sack without knowing what they were doing would find the bizarre-looking knot suddenly baring teeth and trying to bite their fingers. It had taken years of extremely painful practice to perfect. Old Four Fingers McDowell had taught him the technique.

With his work done, Eric heaved the sack onto his shoulder and made his way towards the bedroom door.

"You coming, Chuckles?"

The stocky dwarf was polishing his beloved warhammer as he sat perched on the edge of the human's bed.

He paid absolutely no attention to Eric's question, whatsoever.

"Chuckles?"

Again there was no response. Chuckles dabbed the cloth into the tin at his side and applied some more polish lovingly to his warhammer.

"Chuckles!" Eric said, as loudly as he dare.

The human stirred in their sleep. Chuckles glanced at the human momentarily, then slowly turned his gaze onto Eric.

"What?"

"Are you coming?" Eric asked again.

Chuckles seemed to think about it for a moment, albeit grudgingly, then slowly his eyes lowered onto his warhammer once again. He smiled. Eric shook his head and tried again.

"Chuckles?"

Chuckles quickly looked up, then dropped off the bed onto the floor.

"I'm coming," he muttered grumpily.

Just as he took his first step towards the door, the human stirred in their sleep once again. In a flash of metal, Chuckles gripped his warhammer, swung it at the human, and crashed its flat surface down onto the side of their head. Seconds later, the human was snoring heavily.

"I'm coming," Chuckles repeated.

Eric took one last look round the darkened room and, satisfied that everything was as it should be, turned and reached for the door handle. As he pulled the door open, Pigkiller appeared in the doorway.

"Aye, aye, lads. You lot done in here, like?"

"Everything's been done," Eric said. "What about the others?"

Pigkiller glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the kitchen.

"Aye, they're coming," he said, then lowered his voice, "but Peter's been farking about as usual. What a loser that ugly troll can be sometimes."

Just then there was another loud CRASH in the kitchen, quickly followed by the sound of Peter apologising profusely to Flik-Flak. They all looked towards the kitchen.

"What's going on?" a sleepy voice asked.

Eric shrugged his shoulders. Pigkiller nodded his head knowingly. Chuckles gazed lovingly at his warhammer. Suddenly realising that he didn’t recognise the voice that had come from behind him, Eric looked round. The bedraggled human was sitting up in his bed, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Farking frack. Rule number one of the Overworld Chaos-makers code of conduct had been broken. The human had been woken!

"Aye, out my way, like," Pigkiller said, springing into action and charging past Eric in a flash, waving for Chuckles to follow him too.

Eric watched as Pigkiller grabbed the duvet, quickly pulled himself up onto the bed and positioned himself little more than six inches from the human's yawning face. Pigkiller pointed Chuckles round the other side of the bed. Finally the human stopped yawning and slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was a demented looking war-painted pygmy, leering threateningly into his eyes. The human gasped in shock.

"Aye, you ain't seeing any of this, right? Say night night, now."

There was an almighty THWACK and seconds later the human was again snoring heavily. Chuckles ambled round from the far side of the bed, carefully replacing his beloved warhammer in its sheath on his back. Pigkiller clambered down off the bed, gently dropping down onto the floor. He didn't look happy.

"Aye, that was a close one, like," he said. "That Peter's got a lot to answer for. There'll be hell to pay tomorrow, like."

Eric held the door open for Pigkiller and Chuckles, then followed them out into the hallway where they were joined by Flik-Flak, Tracy, a food-stained Rodney, and an embarrassed-looking Peter. Their work, wrecking a human’s home and causing utter chaos, was done for another night. It was time to go home. It was time to go back to the Underworld.

Somewhere in the dense fog of his brain, the young male student finally managed to make out the sound of his telephone ringing. He slowly opened his eyes. The light from the sun, streaking through the gap in the curtains, nearly blinded him. He shut his eyes again. The ringing, thankfully, soon stopped.

Tentatively, a moment later, he eased his legs over to the side of the bed and then lowered first one foot and then the next to the floor, swinging his upper body into a sitting position in the process. His head was pounding terribly. Worse than any hangover he had ever suffered before.

Shielding the side of his face with his hand, he opened his eyes once again. His vision was all blurry. He rubbed his eyes briskly. Still blurry. Gingerly, he pushed himself onto his feet. The room seemed to spin around him, but he managed to stagger over to the bedroom door, quickly pulling it open, and leaned against the door-frame for support. He still felt awful. He’d had far too much drink the night before. He needed aspirin. Supporting himself with a hand against the wall, he staggered over to the kitchen door and slowly pushed it open. He made his way over to the sink and turned the cold-water tap on. As the water ran out of the tap, his brain suddenly clicked that something hadn't looked quite right. He turned round and looked just to make sure. His jaw just about fell out of its socket.

"Oh, my God!"

He could scarcely believe what he was seeing. As he walked back across the kitchen floor, he took it all in. The fridge door was open and it looked like most of the food it had contained was now lying in various states of mess on the kitchen floor. Likewise, a pile of broken crockery and battered pots and pans lay on the floor outside an open cupboard. On top of the cooker was a frying pan with what looked like a very poor attempt at an omelette burned to it. On the kitchen table was a bottle of maple syrup and the remains of some pancakes on a plate. Next to the plate was a pouch of tobacco, some cigarette papers, and a small camera film case rather bizarrely containing a small amount of what appeared to be …um, dried leaves?

It slowly began to dawn on him what had happened. When he saw the contents of the ashtray, half-hidden beneath an empty packet of crisps, it all fell into place. Midnight munchies. He couldn't remember making any of the mess when he came back from his night out on the town, but then a combination of alcohol and funny-smoke can play tricks on any mind. It kind of made sense. It accounted for his thumping headache. And it kind of accounted for the weird dream about the tiny man standing on his bed.

That said, it didn't quite account for the rotten smell that seemed to be lurking about somewhere in the kitchen... Yeuch!

Chapter Twenty Six - The Magnificent Seven... plus One

2010-02-12T22:43:00.002Z

The trial of Big Red, Tony and Laertes took place on the third morning after the events in the fortress at the heart of the Gulag.

With Judge Redbum presiding over the court with his usual customary aplomb, the team of prosecution lawyers (several sharks hastily summoned from the Overworld for the occasion) intended to call a total of twenty-five witnesses to testify to the wrong-doings and evil intent of Laertes (who sat uncomfortably underneath a plain white sheet after being stripped of his official Watcher black cloak), a further two hundred witnesses to testify to the manipulations and trouble-making of Tony, and a quite staggering three thousand four hundred and eleven witnesses to testify to the sheer plain evil and cruelty of Big Red (a queue of twenty-thousand stretched from outside the court door to the very edge of town for a chance to add their own testimony on that particular subject). Judge Redbum had other ideas, though and, rather than miss out on a round of shove-piggy-shove down at his local, dispensed with the need to plough through all the questioning and went straight to his favourite part of the whole court process – the sentencing.

Flik-Flak, Eric, Pigkiller and David sat in the gallery at the back of the court, watching with baited breath as the right honourable Redbum straightened his wig, banged his gavel a few times for order, paused for what seemed like an eternity, then quickly sentenced all three to serve ten consecutive life sentences in the recently refurbished and now empty prison that was formerly known as the Gulag but which was now known as the Ha-ha-ha-you’re-never-getting-out-of-here pit. A huge cheer had erupted from the gallery as the sentence was handed out, but Judge Redbum had then added that the new legal system (hastily drawn up the previous day after much panic due to the closure of the Gulag) meant that they could all be out on parole in less than ten years with good behaviour. So not quite so good really, but at least it was better than just letting them off with a slap on the wrist (which was what the first draft of the new legal system would have let happen).

The three guilty parties were frog-marched out of court by the bailiffs under the watchful gaze of the angels and a number of Watchers, and taken straight to the new Ha-ha-ha-you’re-never-getting-out-of-here pit without any further ado.

The angels had still looked somewhat sombre, though, even despite the imprisonment of the wrongdoers and the return of the ring. The Almighty One was still nowhere to be found and the ring was being kept under lock and key in a safe in the City of High Clouds until his return. None of the other angels had the ability to use the ring like the Almighty One could and they were anxiously waiting on his return in order to give them the leadership that they seemed to lack. The troubles that blighted both the Overworld and the Underworld would continue until the Almighty One returned. The closure of the Gulag as it had been meant that all those who had been serving sentences lasting for all eternity were given pardons for their crimes and allowed to return to their normal lives. Trouble was that just about all of them had been down there for so long that they had become a little institutionalised and didn't know what to do once they had been released. With almost twenty-thousand lost souls wandering around the town (the same twenty-thousand who queued to give testimony against Big Red, funnily enough) the council elders acted quickly in order to prevent some people from trying to re-offend in order to get sent back to the pit and had set up a department in the road repair section of the council which specialised in digging holes (many were also snapped by some Chaos-making teams who were needing someone to dig holes outside people's houses in the Overworld).

With the Gulag being forced to close, it was only right that Tony’s Casino was forced to shut its doors for the last time too. The card tables, the roulette wheels, and even the poor donkeys used for pinning tails on, were all carted out of the casino and dumped on the streets for the citizens of the town to get some kind of return for all the money that they had lost in there over the years. Most of it ended up on the stalls in Bartertown, though, admittedly.

Eric, in particular, was most relieved to see the back of the casino. With it now closed, he couldn't rack up the same huge debts he had done previously or get caught in the same traps that Tony had fitted him up in before. Of course, that didn't mean he'd stop gambling entirely though. Pigkiller was always up for a few friendly bets and since Derek had been released from the Gulag then doubtless there would be the odd game of cards now and then to keep things ticking over.

But the point was, though, that Eric didn't need to take risks by gambling in order to prove himself to anyone anymore. Word of his exploits in helping to save the world had spread round the Underworld like wildfire, and for the first time in a long time he could walk into an elf bar with his head held high. No one could label him a coward again. Eric the Brave was how he liked to think of himself now.

Of course, no one really knew what had happened in the Gulag until Pigkiller had spotted an opportunity to make a quick buck and had sold his version of events to the local newspaper, the Daily Trash. When the story hit the newsstands, the newspaper sold like hot cakes and made instant celebrities of Pigkiller and all the others. Mind you, Pigkiller had slightly exaggerated his version of events and no one else who had actually been in the chamber in the fortress in the Gulag could remember seeing a twenty-foot tall one-eyed sabre-toothed mammoth, let alone Pigkiller single-handedly beating it at arm wrestling. Word on the street was that Aye, No Bad magazine were considering offering Pigkiller a four-figure quantity of gold to do a ten-page colour-drawing shoot re-enacting the triumphant scenes. However, there were other rumours circulating that a former lover of the little pygmy was negotiating with a rival magazine, Aye, Fit Like Hen, to spill the beans on his colourful past.

But Pigkiller wasn't the only one who let things get to his head for a little while. Given free rein to purchase the best clothes that money could buy, Peter visited the angels' tailor and after almost a full day of measuring and trying on various materials, he walked away with three dinner jackets, four pairs of trousers, five shirts, two bow-ties, three waistcoats, six pairs of shoes, and a top hat and tails. Oh, and a monocle and a cane too. To say he attracted a few disbelieving stares from passers-by as he strode boldly through town wearing all of them at the same time would be something of an understatement.

Another one to attract a fair bit of attention to himself, thanks to the reward given to him by the angels, was Rodney. As he had requested, he was given food, food, and yet more food for his reward. In fact, he was given ten carts full of food and most of them were filled with sweets. It would have taken a dozen people a dozen days to have worked their way through the whole lot but Rodney had sat down outside the gates to the tavern early one morning and chomped through the whole lot in full view of a large crowd of onlookers by the time the sun started to dip down for the day. It had taken the combined efforts of nine people to drag him along the ground back into the tavern at night-time, though. Fortunately, Rodney had plenty of time to recover and be able to get about under his own steam again. Flik-Flak may have missed out on the rewards given by the angels but he had managed to work a little bit of magic of his own and had persuaded those assigning shifts to the Chaos-making teams that his team should get a few extra days off to recover after the arduous ordeal in the Gulag. Of course, had he mentioned that one of the reasons why he wanted the extra time off was because one of his team had eaten so much he was incapable of walking then the powers-that-be might not have been so generous.

While Flik-Flak had used the time to catch up on some rest and gentle recreation, Chuckles had spent the whole time behind the locked door of his bedroom working feverishly on removing the imperfections that he was convinced were on the face of his warhammer. He had used the whole tin of polish that the angels had given him within hours of locking himself away and he had only emerged for dinner on the second night after finally giving in to his hunger pangs. Admittedly, he had gone straight back to his room after dinner.

Dinner for two was the subject that had most filled Tracy's mind, though. She hadn't been on a date for more years than she cared to admit but with two dates in as many days she had been walking around with a permanent grin on her face. Having said that, the date with the angel, Robin, had been pretty much a complete disaster and had almost ended before it had even started. She had used just a tad too much of her latest special toothpaste and had turned her unsightly yellow teeth into the shiniest ultra-white teeth that had ever been seen – in short, she had ended up blinding poor Robin. The date with Josef had gone a lot better though (perhaps because he had worn sunglasses) and she was beginning to feel a growing attraction for the older, more experienced fairy. Perhaps their similar experiences of being chucked out of the tooth-fairy union made her feel like she had found something of a kindred spirit ...

As for David, he took the opportunity to make up for lost time and slept soundly for a day and a half until it was time to go to the court to witness the trial of Big Red, Tony and Laertes. There hadn't been any spare rooms at the tavern, though, so Eric had set up a small bed in his own bedroom and let David stay with him until a room made itself available. Robbie had stayed with him too and had slept on the end of his bed curled up as dogs do. Eric hadn't been happy to have another guest in his room but had diplomatically decided to let sleeping dogs lie.

David could have slept for days, though. It was the first time that he could ever remember sleeping soundly and not having to keep one eye and one ear open for someone trying to get him. It was great to be able to dream without being disturbed, to let his mind roam through the corridors of his imagination, and to know that nothing bad was going to happen to him while he let his guard down. It was the first time he had ever felt like he really belonged somewhere and that everyone really wanted him to be there too.

It was funny, though. He had lost the one thing in his life that he could always depend upon, and which had brought him comfort at times when he felt sad and alone, but yet somehow he didn't really miss the bracelet all that much. It didn't even really bother him that the bracelet hadn't really turned out to belong to his real father after all (although he still had no idea how it had ended up in a box in the loft of his old house). It did make him a little sad that he hadn't found anything that would tell him a little bit more about where his father had gone or where he could find him, but even that didn't really matter really. He maybe hadn't found his father, or the answers to the questions that had once troubled him in his old home, but he had found something else that maybe, just maybe, was more important at the end of the day – several new wonderful friends. And in a world in which he had arrived with nothing that, at least, was something that he could never have expected. He may have lost his bracelet but in his mind he had won so much more.

When he had finally woken awoken from his long slumber, and after returning from the trial a short while later, Flik-Flak, Eric and the others had sat him down and asked him where he would most like to live, and what he would most like to do now he was allowed to stay in the Underworld. David had thought for a short while. He had seen a lot of the town, and he had seen many nice places to live, but the tavern had such a great atmosphere inside it that he said that he would really most like to stay here with them all. Everyone had cheered and Flik-Flak promised he would do his best to get him a room near to everyone else's.

But what did David say that he would most like to do? What job had he set his heart on?

“Aye, see the beauty of Chuckles' technique is that he manages to get a little bit more power into his hit by flicking his wrists at the last possible moment. Show him again, Chuckles.”

THWACK!

“Aye, maybe another one and all, mate.”

THWACK!

“Aye, one more for luck.”

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

“Aye, calm down, like. I only said one more.”

Chuckles smiled sheepishly and let the warhammer slide down through his fingers until just short of the iron head.

“Doesn't... doesn't that like almost kill the person, though?” David asked, taken a-back somewhat by the demonstration of the hangover-giving task that was the dwarf's speciality. “She ... she's not moving anymore or anything!”

“Aye, well, that'll be because she's sleeping, like,” Pigkiller muttered quietly. “People generally don't move much when they're sleeping, you know. And especially not after Chuckles has lamped them one or three on the noggin.”

“But ... but ...”

“Aye, well reminded, David,” Pigkiller said, speaking softly. “I'll show you the best way to pinch a human's bum and cause the most discomfort for them in a moment or two, but I think Eric might want a hand picking up all these socks first, though. Ain't that right, Eric?”

The floor was literally covered with socks of all kinds, colours, and sizes and the beleaguered elf was sweating with effort as he stood bent-double scooping up armfuls of socks and shoving them into his bulging sack.

“A hand would most definitely be appreciated,” Eric said, so busy concentrating on picking up odd socks he didn't dare take his eyes off them for even a split second. “Two would be even better, though. Just grab that spare sack I dumped in the corner over there, David, and start grabbing what you can before Flik-Flak calls for time up.”

It certainly didn't look like the most glamorous of tasks that Eric had, but David was there to learn from the masters of their trade and duly got stuck in to help his friend out. Literally in the case of the first sock he picked up. David sincerely hoped it was just chewing gum he had found on the end of the sock but he chucked it right to the bottom of his sack before confirming whether it was or not. He quickly picked up another sock and made to throw it in with the other.

“No, that one stays out,” Eric whispered, glancing up momentarily to make eye contact with David. “Remember, just take one sock out of every pair so that the human is left with a jumble of odd socks.”

David nodded.

“Why again exactly, though?” he asked, as he dropped the sock and picked up a white sport sock.

“The longer they spend looking for their socks the less time they have to muck up the world, that's why,” Eric replied, matter-of-factly. “You'd be surprised how many wars have been avoided because one leader of an army or country has spent so long hunting for his socks in the morning that by the afternoon they've changed their mind about fighting another army or country and instead decided to spend all their resources perfecting ways to avoid losing their socks. Your old lot would have started World War Three a few years back if it wasn't for the likes of me and my fellow sock-thieves, you know.”

“Seriously?”

“Well, there may have been a couple of other factors as well,” Eric muttered. “Something to do with peace negotiations or something ... I don't really remember ...”

The bedroom door creaked open and Flik-Flak poked his head round the door.

“How's it going, gentlemen?” he asked. “Everything satisfactory, Chuckles?”

Polish was being applied liberally and lovingly to the warhammer in the dwarf's hand and answering Flik-Flak, or even acknowledging he had heard his captain, was totally out of the question for Chuckles. He had a feeling that his boss was going to ask again though (people always asked again) and quickly took appropriate action.

“Uh-huh.”

“Good, good,” Flik-Flak said. “Pigkiller?”

A small lump shuffled its way up the bed and finally the little pygmy's head popped up from under the duvet next to the sleeping girl's head.

“Aye, I'm just doing fine, like,” Pigkiller said, pushing the girl's head further along to make more space for himself. “I'm just warming up the girl's fat bum for David to have a wee pinch in a moment or two. How's yourself, like, big fella?”

“Oh, just fine, thank you,” Flik-Flak replied, smiling. “Moving on, though. Eric?”

With his sack full, and David's not too far behind, Eric had decided that they should leave the rest of the socks alone and was showing the new trainee Chaos-maker how to tie his famous triple-finger-nipper elf knot.

“ ... and so that end goes down through the loop, pull it, and then quickly take your fingers away before it starts biting. Got it?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Flik-Flak cleared his throat with a very deliberate cough. Eric glanced up from watching David trying to tie his sack.

“Yeah, boss?”

“How's young David faring on his first day at work?” Flik-Flak asked, looking at both Eric and David.

“Yeah, pretty well, I think,” Eric replied, nodding his head. “You're picking things up pretty quickly, aren't you, David?”

David finished tying the knot on his sack and whipped his fingers away just as its teeth snapped at him.

“I think so,” he said.

“Enjoying it all?” Flik-Flak asked. “Any ideas yet what you'd like to specialise in? I must say, I thought you were extremely good at ruffling that girl's hair into a right mess. It took me months to create a mess that entangled and difficult to sort out. Someone with your talent could go far in the hair-ruffling game, you know.”

“I'm sure you could go just as far in the sock-stealing game as well, though,” Eric added quickly.

“And the key-hiding side of things too,” Tracy said, poking her head round the door as she hovered out in the corridor. “You've a good eye for hiding things, David.”

“Aye, and I reckon you'll be just grand at pinching people's butts as well when I get round to showing you the ropes,” Pigkiller added, slipping out from under the duvet and dropping down onto the carpet.

It seemed like everyone thought David had a natural gift for being a Chaos- maker and he had to admit that so far it had been more fun than he had dared to think. He still wasn't quite sure why certain things were done, although the general idea of trying to slow humans down seemed to be the main objective, but he certainly was having a good time nonetheless. But as to what he'd like to specialise in ...

Suddenly there was an almighty clatter from outside the bedroom and the sound of raised voices bickering drifted through the open doorway.

“Any chance that's not Peter who's caused that?” Flik-Flak asked, already walking back towards the door.

“Aye, not much, like,” Pigkiller muttered, tagging along with his captain as he walked out the door. “He's a right clumsy ...”

Pigkiller's voice faded as he disappeared through the door and just as well as the rest of what he had to say about Peter was not really suitable for young ears such as David's.

Suddenly there was yet another loud clatter which was followed almost immediately by what sounded like a small explosion and then the thundering of many feet running as fast as they could.

“Abort! Abort!”

The human groaned in their sleep and turned over onto her other side. The bedroom door burst open and Rodney, Peter, Pigkiller and Flik-Flak careered into the bedroom and clattered into an unsuspecting Chuckles.

“What's up?” Eric asked, rising to his feet quickly.

The smell of something burning, and the sound of roaring flames, followed the panic-stricken quartet into the room.

“F-f-fire!” Rodney shouted. “There's a fire in the kitchen!”

The human girl stirred in her sleep, rolled over again, and an arm flopped out of bed hitting Pigkiller on the head.

“Aye, I think we'd better get out of here quick smart, like,” he said, rubbing his bald head.

Another small explosion rocked the house and a ball of flame shot past the open bedroom door.

“Uh-oh,” Chuckles muttered, pointing at the girl.

Her eyes were wide open with fear as she gazed around the odd assortment of creatures in her bedroom.

“What the...?” she mumbled, as she sat up in the bed pulling the duvet up under her chin as she did so.

Pigkiller quickly signalled to Chuckles to hurry round the other side of the bed while he grabbed hold of the duvet and clambered up onto the bed. The girl stared in horror at the leering two-foot pygmy marching across the bed towards her.

“Aye, you ain't seeing any of this, like!” he said, then grabbed the duvet and pulled it away from her face just enough to let a flash of metal wallop her on the head.

A second later and the girl was snoring loudly with a contented look on her face.

“Oh, not again,” Flik-Flak muttered under his breath. “Right, gentleman and Tracy, each of you grab your stuff, Rodney and Peter carry the girl, and everyone run outside as though your lives depend on it before this whole house becomes a burning inferno!”

“Aye, ladies and pygmies first!” Pigkiller shouted, as he threw back the bedroom door and legged it out into the smoky corridor. “Come on, Tracy!”

David and Eric watched from the back of the bedroom as Tracy and Flik-Flak hurried out of the bedroom behind the little pygmy, quickly followed by Peter and Rodney who had picked up the girl between them and were dragging her out along the ground by her arms.

“Does this happen quite a lot?” David asked, as he and Eric heaved their sacks over their shoulders and started running after their teammates.

Eric laughed but didn't answer. Flik-Flak was holding the front door open for Eric and David and as they both jumped outside there was a third explosion and the roof of the house caved in.

“Oh dear,” Flik-Flak muttered, shaking his head. “We might just use up all our good favour at the moment trying to explain this one. Cloaks on everyone and back to the train station!”

As Eric helped David on with his Invisibility Cloak, he finally answered his question.

“Yeah, you'd be surprised what happens some nights,” he said, as David vanished beneath his cloak. “Let's just say that you'd be amazed what goes on while you humans are sleeping,” he added. “Anything that can't be explained, or anything that goes wrong, or anything that goes bump in the night, is pretty much always down to us lot and other teams like us.”

As the Chaos-makers safely hid under their cloaks and started to walk nonchalantly away, the front doors of nearby houses opened and curious humans peered out at the great fire roaring at the house they had just left. As people milled out onto the street to take a closer look and to wait for the fire engines to arrive, David swerved round several unsuspecting people until the pavement became clear once more. Looking back he spotted dozens of tiny little imps scurrying about and chuckled as he watched them tying people's shoelaces together as they stood watched the fire burning brightly. Another team of Chaos-makers crept out from another nearby house carrying all manners of goods they had pinched and started running down the street away from the crowds. David put a hand over his mouth to stop himself laughing. Yes, he was going to like this job all right. He had a feeling that he was going to have a lot of fun with his new friends.

THE END

Chapter Twenty Five - The End of All Things?

2010-02-12T22:42:00.000Z

He could see their lips moving, and he judged by the expressions on their faces that they were spitting mad, but he hadn't the faintest idea what they were saying. The blow to the head that the guard had dealt him had rendered him temporarily deaf in his good ear, which pretty much left him totally deaf as other than a faint murmur he was hearing next to nothing in his bad ear. Thank goodness for small mercies.

“ ...and you have betrayed me and my lenience at every turn, Eric,” Tony bawled, shaking his fist at the startled elf. “You have been nothing but a thorn in my side ever since I asked you to do this one simple thing and find me the ring. Consider your debt to me to remain unpaid and I aim to collect sooner rather than later.”

“Silence!” Big Red barked. “I have heard enough of your prattling, Tony. You want the ring but you cannot have it. You have been brought before me to pay for your heinous crimes and, for those, I sentence you to an eternity in the Bottomless Pit!”

Tony sneered at Big Red's words.

“Wishful thinking, my old friend. Not a chance.”

“Oh, really,” Big Red said. “Guards, take him away!”

The guards looked at each other in fear then spread out and circled around Tony. Six more guards who had been standing against the wall joined their three comrades and they all advanced towards the former angel. Tony glanced at each of the nine faces surrounding him and smiled. The first guard reached out and grabbed him by the arm.

“Come with us,” the guard ordered.

In a whirl of white cloth, Tony shook off the guard's grip, picked up the startled troll and hurled him unceremoniously against the wall at the far end of the chamber.

“Who's next?” he asked contemptuously. Tony removed his robe and dropped it to the chamber floor. His angel wings were freed from their confines for the first time in an age and he flexed the muscles in his back to loosen them up. “Okay then. Let's fight!”

The eight remaining guards roared defiantly and charged with their teeth clenched and clubs waving. Tony quickly spread his great wings, knocking two of the guards down in the process, and leapt high into the air over the heads of the remaining trolls, who all made the mistake of watching him rather than where they were going and ended up clattering into each other. Tony glided back to the chamber floor and waved the dishevelled trolls towards him. Again the trolls roared and charged at the mighty being. One by one they rained blows down on the bare arms of the former angel, but to no effect, and with one wave of the arm the eight trolls were swatted away like mere flies.

Staggering about on their feet, Tony lashed out and knocked each one down in turn until only he was left standing among them.

Eric gulped back the fear that was rising within and backed towards the wall for some kind of safety. He knew Tony was powerful but that was the first time he had ever seen him in action. It had been an awesome display.

Big Red was distinctly unimpressed, though.

“The use of your wings was a bit extravagant if you ask me,” he commented, as he waved another set of guards into the chamber to take the place of those that were lying unconscious on the floor.

“I didn't ask,” Tony retorted. “I'd happily demonstrate my other abilities on you, though, if you care to take to the floor and stop hiding behind your pathetic foot-soldiers!”

Before Big Red could snap a comeback, a guard at the rear of the chamber raised a hand slowly into the air and coughed loudly enough to attract everyone's attention (everyone, of course, except Eric who still couldn't hear a thing).

“Um, hello,” Peter said, his voice squeaking slightly. “I-I-I have some news about the bracelet ... I mean, the ring.”

“What is it?” Big Red demanded.

“Yes, what is it?” Tony demanded too.

After taking a moment to compose himself, Peter mentally said a little prayer to the Almighty One and ploughed on with what he had been practising in his head for all of thirty seconds.

“The boy has been found in Bartertown and is being held captive by my fellow guards,” Peter said, trying to sound confident. “We have possession of the bracelet ... I mean, the ring.”

“Well, give it to me, then!” Big Red boomed, barely hiding his glee.

Tony stepped between Peter and Big Red.

“No, give it to me!” he ordered.

A searing ball of flame erupted from Big Red's mouth and engulfed Tony in a raging inferno.

“Oh, dear lord,” Peter muttered under his breath.

As the flames of the fire faded and died, Tony was left standing there unmarked but still burning with anger.

“Is that the best you can do?” he sneered at Big Red.

Peter coughed loudly again and stopped Tony in his tracks just as he made to lunge at Big Red in retribution.

“I-I-I don't actually have the ring on me,” Peter said. “My fellow guards are being surrounded by a dozen creatures of unknown origin and I just barely managed to escape to get reinforcements to stave off their assault. You must go quickly to obtain the bracelet ... I mean, the ring, before it is lost once again!”

The eyes of both Big Red and Tony widened in horror.

“Are these your men surrounding my trolls, Tony?” Big Red growled. “If so I'll –”

“Silence, you buffoon!” Tony snapped. “They are not my men. I have sent only one of my most trusted servants to claim the ring from the boy. It is clear that there is a third party with designs on the ring.”

“Bah! Then they must be stopped!” Big Red roared, cursing his luck. He looked over his shoulder and waved his dark-cowled servant over. “Take all the guards that you can find, even taking some from the pit, and go back to Bartertown to secure the boy and thwart these unknown creatures!”

“Yes-s-s, your highness-s-s,” the creature hissed.

The creature motioned for all the guards in the chamber to follow him and hurried out through the side entrance with the lumbering trolls trailing behind.

“As much as I have enjoyed our little head-to-head, Big Red, I have other more pressing matters to attend to now so I will bid you farewell,” Tony said, then turned and strode towards the side entrance after the disappearing guards.

Big Red waved a hand towards the doorway and the heavy stone door slid back into place, blocking Tony's path.

“I think not,” he growled. “You are not going anywhere!”

Peter watched in dismay as Big Red foiled Tony's exit. Had Tony managed to leave then there would have been little doubt that Big Red would have been compelled to follow suit, leaving Eric free to be rescued.

“What's happening?” Rodney whispered.

“Shh, Rodney!”

Big Red glowered at Peter.

“What was that, guard?”

“Nothing, your highness,” Peter replied, smiling weakly. “Just clearing my throat again.”

Tony was still standing impassively a few metres short of the blocked doorway then slowly turned round to face Big Red.

“This will not stop me for long,” he said, then quickly turned away, grabbed the rock with both hands and hoisted the heavy rock high above his head.

Fearing for his life, Eric scurried along the chamber wall, trying to get as far away as possible from Tony while also trying desperately hard to stay out of his line of sight. It would be just his rotten luck to be on the receiving end of the rock if Tony saw him. He needed to hide and hide quickly!

But Tony only had eyes for Big Red, though.

“Heads up!” he shouted, and hurled the rock directly at Big Red's head.

With a roar of anger, Big Red caught the rock in mid-flight and crushed it between his mighty hands. As the dust settled, Tony had already started through the doorway and Big Red quickly dashed after him.

“It's working,” Peter whispered, barely concealing his delight. “I can't believe it's going to work!”

Underneath the long cloak, Rodney danced a little jig of delight in celebration and poked his head out to see what was happening for himself. His timing, however, was a little premature. Tony glanced over his shoulder to see how close Big Red was in pursuit of him and spotted Rodney's grinning face poking out.

“Treachery!” he roared, stopping dead in his tracks and pointing at Peter and Rodney. “We have been tricked!”

Surprised by Tony's unexpected outburst, Big Red failed to stop in time and hurtled into the former angel at full speed, sending both tumbling to the ground.

“Get off me, you imbecile!” Tony snapped. “Look back into the chamber! That guard is an impostor!”

The two age-old rivals helped each other to their feet and pounded back up the tunnel towards the entrance to the chamber.

“Oh dear,” Peter muttered, spotting the two seething giants racing towards them. “I think we'd better start running, Rodney.”

Peter dropped down from Rodney's shoulders but the cloak got entangled between them and sent both crashing to the floor. Chuckles' warhammer clattered to the ground and slid well out of reach.

Eric poked his head out from behind his hiding-place and his jaw dropped in amazement as he realised it was his friends who were scrambling about underneath the cloak.

“HI, LADS,” Eric shouted, not realising he was shouting. “HAVE YOU COME TO RESCUE ME, HAVE YOU?”

Rodney crawled out from under the cloak, pulling Peter along behind him by the scruff of the neck. He smiled sheepishly at Eric.

“Yeah, kind of,” he said quickly, glancing down the tunnel as Big Red and Tony rapidly approached. “Quick, Eric, let's scarper!”

As Rodney and Peter leapt to their feet and bolted towards the other entrance to the chamber, Eric remained motionless and a little confused.

“WHAT WAS THAT, RODNEY? I DIDN'T QUITE CATCH THAT AS MY HEARING'S GONE A LITTLE FUNNY.”

“Huh?” Rodney grunted, stopping in his tracks and tripping Peter up as he clipped the back of his leg.

Suddenly a volley of fireballs flashed in front of Rodney and Peter and exploded against the wall just next to their escape route. They were out of time. Big Red and Tony had caught up with them.

“Well, what have we here, eh?” Tony said, quickly flying across the chamber and shepherding Peter and Rodney towards the centre of the chamber. “You're friends of the elf, are you not?”

“No, we're never met Eric before,” Rodney answered quickly – too quickly. “Not that we know that the elf is called Eric –”

“'Cos we don't,” Peter finished. “I mean, that elf could be anybody for all we know –”

“He just looked like an Eric,” Rodney added. “We could easily have called him –”

“Tarquil or some other name completely separate from Eric,” Peter carried on. “Actually, come to think of it, he looks more like a Sebastian than an –”

“Enough!” Big Red boomed. “I have never seen either of you two pathetic weasels before but you clearly match the descriptions of those that are known associates of the elf. However, according to my spies' last reports, you were last seen fraternising with the human child known as David. Since you are here, I can only deduce that the boy must be here or close by also. Would I be correct?”

Rodney exchanged a puzzled look with Rodney.

“What does “fraternising” mean?” he whispered out of the side of his mouth.

“It means you were associating with the boy,” Tony explained. “In other words, you were all seen together.”

“Oh, yes, that's right, so it does,” Peter nodded. “Which boy are we talking about now?”

“We're talking about this boy!” rasped a voice that came straight from the darkest reaches of the darkest place that ever existed in the darkest realm.

Laertes strode into the chamber and dumped David down roughly onto the floor. Where the bracelet had been on David's wrist, now there was only a fading red mark. The Watcher held the bracelet in the palm of one of his gloved hands.

“Ah, well done, Laertes,” Tony beamed, his eyes lighting up. “I knew you would not fail me. Hand me the ring and we will rejoice in its return to its rightful owner.”

“It's not yours,” David said, getting to his feet. “It belongs to the Almighty One.”

“No, it belongs to me!” Big Red exclaimed.

“It is mine!” Tony retorted.

Hidden behind the shroud of his black hood, Laertes smiled at the childishness of the protagonists in front of him. They were all wrong. It wasn't the Almighty One's. It wasn't Big Red's. And it certainly wasn't Tony's. No, it was his, and his alone.

“Hand me the ring now!” Tony demanded, walking across the chamber towards Laertes.

“Don't do it!” Big Red exclaimed.

Laertes stopped Tony in his tracks with a raised hand and a shake of the head.

“I have no intention of giving it to Tony,” he rasped. “Nor to you, Big Red. The ring, I think you'll find, is now mine!”

In a furious rage, Tony lunged at Laertes but the Watcher calmly slipped the oversized ring onto his finger, clenched his fist, and stood motionless as Tony bounced off an invisible barrier that protected the black-cloaked being and crumpled into an undignified heap on the floor. Everyone watched in amazement as the ring shrank until it fit perfectly on Laertes' gloved finger.

“Isn't that just a turn-up for the books, eh?” Laertes rasped. “All this time, Tony, I have been betraying my oath as a Watcher, to protect the law and punish the unlawful, for a place at your right-hand side when the time came for you to return to your angel status and rule the worlds. But slip one little ring onto my finger and now suddenly it is I who will be dining from the top table while you beg for the scraps I drop onto the floor.” Laertes laughed for a moment. “You should have learned a lesson from your own mistakes, Tony. Never trust someone who would betray their own kind for their own gain 'cos they will ultimately betray you at the moment when you need them most. It would seem, ironically, that just such an opportunity has come calling for me. Did you really think I would just hand you over the ring after I had learned the full extent of its power?”

Peter leaned towards Rodney and whispered into his ear.

“Why is that baddies always give really long speeches when they're on the verge of a victory?”

Rodney's stomachs were playing up again and were quietly rumbling their displeasure at a lack of food. He whispered back in Peter's ear.

“I dunno. But do you think I'll get invited to eat at the top table with him 'cos I'm just starving and it sounds like he'll have plenty to go round?”

Suddenly Big Red sprang into action and charged at Laertes. As coolly as you like, the Watcher clenched his fist tightly and promptly vanished into thin air. Big Red looked around and lashed out wildly at the air around him.

“Tut-tut-tut,” a bodiless voice rasped close by. “Losing your temper isn't going to make things any better.”

Big Red suddenly doubled up in pain as though something had hit him in the stomach and he dropped to his knees as he struggled hard to regain his breath.

“Yes, on your hands and knees begging for mercy is more like it,” Laertes laughed. “Perhaps you should take a leaf from your old adversary's book, Tony.”

“I will never kneel before you,” Tony said defiantly. “It'll take more than the likes –”

The former angel doubled in pain just as Big Red had done moments previously and he too fell onto his hands and knees as he fought to refill his lungs with the wind that had been knocked out of them.

“Hmm, that is an improvement,” Laertes said. “How about you, Eric? Care to bow down before your new God?”

Eric had watched in awe as events had unfolded but still his hearing was impaired slightly.

“Sorry, what was that?” he asked, looking blank.

Laertes reappeared sitting on the skull throne at the front of the chamber.

“I said, will you kneel before your new God?”

Rodney shook his head briskly.

“He's lying, Eric,” he said. “He said nothing of the sort.”

“What?” Laertes rasped. “I think I know what I said, you idiot.”

“No, you don't,” Rodney retorted. “What you actually said was, "How about you, Eric? Care to bow down before your new God?‟ What you said the second time wasn't even remotely close.”

Laertes banged a gloved fist against the arm of the throne in frustration. Rodney, bless him, seemed to have that effect on a lot people.

“Silence, orc!” he croaked. “Eric, kneel before me. Now!”

He made out his name clearly enough but the rest kind of merged into one continuous indistinguishable murmur that made no sense to Eric.

“Pardon?”

“Insolent, elf,” Laertes muttered, rising to his feet. “I will explain it to you in a language that you will understand more readily.”

As Laertes marched across the chamber towards a bewildered Eric, Tony signalled to Big Red and both hurled themselves up from their knees onto the Watcher, catching him unawares and knocking him forcefully to the ground. All three tumbled across the chamber but Laertes recovered quickly and pushed himself clear before either could get a better grip of him.

“Nice try,” he rasped, clenching his fist and raising the invisible barrier around him once more. “But not good enough. I see you are not quite ready to submit to my greater power yet, but perhaps this will change your minds!”

Laertes pulled his fist back then propelled it forward again and unleashed a terrifying stream of blue energy that struck both Tony and Big Red full in the chests, making both giants writhe uncontrollably on the floor and scream in agony. After a while, the Watcher unclenched his fist and the stream of energy disappeared leaving Tony and Big Red groaning with the aftershocks of the tremendous battering their bodies had just taken.

“A little more, I think,” Laertes sneered.

The stream of energy leapt from the ring and slammed into Tony and Big Red once again.

David had been quite spellbound by Laertes' display and he was extremely glad that the Watcher seemed to have forgotten about him while he dealt with everyone else. He had heard all kinds of stories about how Tony and Big Red were the most feared beings in the whole of the Underworld, and about how they should be avoided at all costs, but seeing the Watcher pummel both of them into screaming submission made him realise that there was someone far worse that they should all have been keeping an eye on. He had seen a glimpse of it for himself when the Watcher had ransacked the bar called Heaven while looking for him and Robbie the previous day. Now he was seeing it a hundred times worse, fuelled by the power of the ring.

David rubbed his wrist where the bracelet had been and looked sadly down at the bare skin. How he wished he hadn't had it taken it away from him. It had been his most precious possession and had kept him safe during all kinds of trouble (except when it had mattered most, though). Had he not been distracted then maybe he would have reacted quicker and staved off the Watcher's attack before he struck. No point thinking about what might have been, though. He had done all he could do to keep the bracelet safe and even though he had come with it to the most dangerous place in the whole of the Underworld, it had been for a very good reason. At least, Eric still seemed to be in one piece. How long he and everyone else would stay that way was another matter that David didn't really want to think about. But where had Flik-Flak gotten to? And where were Pigkiller and Chuckles?

Eric noticed David looking his way and waved sheepishly. He was wracked with guilt at getting David involved with this entire mess. Kidnapping him had been bad enough, but then to let slip a piece of information that had every low-life in the Underworld chasing after him, and then forcing him to end up in the Gulag to try and rescue him, was way beyond just bad. It was the worst thing he had ever done in his entire life.

Eric hung his head in shame. If only he hadn't been such a coward and told the truth when he should have then all this wouldn't have happened. If only he had still been the brave, confident elf he had been in his younger days then he would have made the right decisions at the right time. Heck, if he was still that brave, confident elf then maybe he'd still be a member of the Elf Union and still have the respect of his own kind.

Frustration at his own failings bubbled to the surface and he kicked the wall with the back of his heel in anger. If he could only get one more chance to make everything right then he'd show them all that he wasn't a coward. But with Laertes in full control of the ring and making everyone suffer at his hands, just where was that chance going to come from? It was looking hopeless. Even the most optimistic of people would be hard pressed to find even the faintest trace of hope. Even Pigkiller. Thankfully, at least his little friend had escaped all this madness...

“I'll not finish with you until you submit before me,” Laertes rasped, shaking his fist at Tony and Big Red as they rose to their feet for the umpteenth time. “Why won't you just save yourselves the pain?”

“I ...I'll never submit to you, you treacherous miscreant!” Tony spat, his mouth awash with blood. “I'd rather –”

“Die!” Laertes yelled and sent another stream of energy surging into Tony's chest.

The Watcher unclenched his fist and Tony collapsed to the ground yet again. Big Red pulled his lips back to reveal his sharp teeth and snarled ferociously at Laertes.

“Oh, pipe down,” Laertes rasped.

The Watcher moved round the chamber to change his angle of attack and sent both Rodney and Peter scurrying out of his way.

“I'm getting a bit tired of all this to-ing and fro-ing,” Rodney muttered, as his short legs worked overtime to carry him over to the other side of the chamber to hide next to Eric.

“I know what you mean,” Peter said, grabbing David by the arm and hauling him along to relative safety too.

Eric smiled weakly as he was reunited with his friends.

“Nice to see you,” he said, his hearing having finally returned to normal. “Sorry 'bout all this.”

“It's not your fault, Eric,” David said.

“Well, it kind of is really,” Eric muttered.

“Don't be too hard on yourself,” Peter said. “We came here of our own free will. We weren't going to leave you down here for all eternity, you know.”

“Yeah, Peter's right,” Rodney agreed.

Laertes shot another stream of energy at Big Red and Tony, then turned his attention towards the four friends standing with their backs to the wall. The warhammer that Peter had carried into the chamber mysteriously slid along the ground until it vanished from view but its disappearance went entirely unnoticed by Laertes.

“Well, this is a nice reunion, isn't it?” he sneered. “What a motley crew of rogues and oddballs you are. If only the rest of your pathetic teammates were here then I could rid the Underworld of you once and for all!”

Laertes stepped back and prowled round the chamber as though deciding who his next victim should be. He came to a halt just by the darkened entrance to the chamber and pointed at Eric.

“I think it's only fair that you should be first, Eric,” he rasped. “After all, it all started with you.”

The Watcher threw his head back in laughter and prepared himself to send Eric to a place from which there was no return.

But then something rather unexpected happened. A pair of tiny hands appeared on the black shoulders of the Watcher and continued upward until they were holding onto either side of the hood.

“What the...?” Laertes muttered, then suddenly the tiny hands pulled the hood right down over his face and Pigkiller's head popped up over the top of Laertes' head.

“Aye, aye, lads, started the party without me again, eh?” he shouted, one foot resting on each of Laertes' shoulders. “Right, lamp him one, Chuckles!”

The stocky dwarf stepped out from behind his hiding place clutching his beloved warhammer in his hands and swung it with all his might into Laertes' unprotected stomach. The air in the Watcher's lungs exploded out of his mouth as he doubled over with the force of the ferocious blow and collapsed to his knees. Josef sprang into the chamber with a determined look on his face and pounced on Laertes' back. Pigkiller was still gripping tightly onto the hood.

“Aye, come on, you lot,” he shouted, looking up at the others standing dumbstruck against the wall. “Will you stop standing there like a bunch of gooseberries and get the blasted ring off his finger before he recovers, like?!”

Recovering from his shock, Eric took the chance that he had been waiting for and rushed over to help his two smaller friends. David hurried after him and urged Rodney and Peter to help too.

“Aye, grab his arms, like,” Pigkiller said, struggling to hold onto Laertes' hood as the Watcher started to recover and rise to his feet. “Lamp him again, Chuckles. Hard as you like.”

The dwarf pulled his warhammer back quickly and lashed it into the Watcher's stomach once again.

“Oof!” Laertes gasped, falling to his knees and clutching his stomach in pain.

Eric gestured for Rodney and Peter to grab one of the Watcher's arms, while he and David grabbed the other and wrenched it back to try and stop Laertes from clenching his fist and using the power of the ring.

“Why you –” Laertes rasped, before being cut short by yet another thumping blow to the stomach by Chuckles' warhammer.

Eric grabbed the ring and twisted it side to side as he desperately tried to wrench it from Laertes' finger. It wasn't coming off easily, though.

“I ... I can't get it off,” Eric said, beginning to panic. “It seems to be sticking 'cos of his farking gloves!”

“Try using some washing-up liquid,” Rodney suggested.

Eric looked at his friend incredulously.

“Oh, yes, of course, I'll just look in my pocket and whip out a bottle,” he said sarcastically. “Does it look like I have any of that to hand?! I mean, honestly.”

Rodney took one hand off his grip on the Watcher and rummaged around in his pockets for a moment before lobbing a small bottle into Eric's hand.

“I keep a bottle handy to clean up after I've cooked a meal,” he explained, grabbing Laertes' arm once again. “It helps keep my hands nice and soft too.”

Lost for words, Eric hesitated for a moment then, with a brisk shake of the head, opened the bottle and poured all of the green liquid over the ring and the
rest of Laertes' hand.

“No!” Laertes snapped. “Don't you dare –”

THWACK! Chuckles pulled his warhammer back again and held it high, ready for another swing if called upon. Laertes wheezed uncontrollably as he fought to catch his breath.

Eric grabbed the ring again and pulled hard. It moved slightly but not enough to slide it all the way off.

“I still can't get the darn thing off,” Eric said anxiously.

Laertes' hand started to clench again but Eric reacted quickly and wedged his fingers in between those of Laertes.

“Aye, holding hands, eh?” Pigkiller said, managing to joke despite the desperateness of the situation. “Didn't know you were that well acquainted with this nutter, like.”

“He-he's crushing ... my hand,” Eric said, grimacing with the effort of trying to stop the hand from closing.

The little pygmy looked down at David.

“Aye, I think you'd better have a go at getting that ring off, mate.”

It was up to David now. Grabbing Laertes' hand, he prised up the ring finger to help him get as firm a grip of the ring as he could and then started wiggling it about, trying to slide it off. One more minute, he thought, and he would have it off.

But they had taken too long, though. Laertes had feigned being winded that last time, buying himself some extra time to recover and to avoid being hit yet again by Chuckles. Now, back to full strength, he suddenly let rip with an almighty roar that surprised Rodney and Peter so much that they loosened their grip on him just enough to let the Watcher pull his arm free and lash out at them, knocking them backwards into Chuckles. Josef toppled to the ground as Laertes rose quickly to his feet, leaving Pigkiller to cling on for dear life around the Watcher's neck.

“I'll kill you both,” Laertes rasped, reaching out for both Eric and David.

But just as his fingertips brushed against David's head, a gnarled red hand with sharp black nails reached down and wrenched Laertes' arm back so hard that it almost snapped in half.

“You first,” Big Red snarled, then glanced down at David. “Pull that infernal ring from his finger, boy, and do it now!”

David didn't need to be told twice. Squeezing his fingers so tightly against the ring that they felt like they would explode, David vigorously twisted the ring back and forth and finally hauled the ring from the evil Watcher's finger.

“NO!” Laertes screamed, releasing his death-like grip on Eric's hand and letting him stagger away in pain.

“Oh yes!” Big Red sneered.

Pigkiller gulped and leapt down onto the floor as Big Red grabbed Laertes by the throat and lifted him clean into the air so that they were face to face (well, face to hood at any rate). Suddenly Big Red remembered about the ring and his head whipped round towards David. The ring had grown and retaken its former size. David was holding it in the palm of his hands and was looking it at with more than just a little trepidation. Big Red's eyes lit up with a terrifying red glare.

“Give me the ring!” he boomed.

“No! Give it to me!” Tony cried, slowly getting to his feet at the other side of the chamber and wiping the blood from his face.

“Oh, not this again,” Eric muttered. “Do something with it, David! Quick!”

“I will take it, I think,” said a voice that seemed to come from nowhere.

Before David could slip the giant ring back onto his wrist, a black-gloved hand reached down from over his shoulder, snatched the ring from his hands and quickly disappeared over his shoulder again. David spun round then jumped back in surprise.

“You!” Laertes rasped, spitting out the word despite Big Red's vice-like grip.

From out of the dark shadows of the chamber stepped the black-cloaked figure of a Watcher. A Watcher who had seen more than enough and who had only now chosen to reveal himself. Between the tips of two fingers he held the ring tightly.

“Yes, it is I, apprentice Laertes,” MacBeth replied calmly. “You have been corrupted by the power of darkness and forsaken all that you had sworn to uphold. I have been watching over these others here present in order to bring about and witness your eventual downfall.”

“Who's side are you on, though?” David asked.

MacBeth brought the ring closer to his face and studied it for a moment.

“I am on no one's side,” he answered. “I am an impartial observer and servant of the law. I have sworn to protect the integrity of the laws of the land and to punish those that seek to break them.”

“That didn't really answer the question,” Rodney muttered. “He's with that other one, surely?”

Eric exchanged a look with David then glanced across at Laertes. If one Watcher could be corrupted then who's to say that another one couldn't be too? Big Red and Tony seemed to be of the same opinion too.

“Lies! All lies!” Big Red growled. “You just want the ring for yourself.”

Suddenly the chamber started to shake violently and rocks from the roof crashed to the floor. Roof beams buckled and snapped sending great chunks of the ceiling tumbling to the ground, leaving a huge gouge through which a great shaft of blinding light beamed down into the chamber. All those in the chamber shielded their eyes and looked up through the hole as an army of winged celestial beings, each holding a flaming sword, descended from the sky and floated gently down. On the back of one of these angels and clinging on for dear life was Robbie. Last but not least, Tracy fluttered slowly down through the hole.

“It's the cavalry!” Peter exclaimed, punching the air in triumph. “I knew they'd come.”

“Yeah!” Rodney shouted, jumping excitedly into the air and high-fiving Peter.

“Aye, fantastic like!” Pigkiller cried, joining in the revelry with Peter and Rodney.

The winged angels quickly fanned out around the chamber and several of them raised their swords at Big Red, Tony and Laertes. Several more angels unloaded some gold chains from a trunk they had taken with them and wordlessly tied the power-crazed trio together despite their loud protests. Other angels checked to see that everyone else was okay.

Eric's jaw had dropped in amazement while all this was happening and, regaining his senses, he slowly lifted it back up into its normal resting place again. That was just about the last thing he had expected to see. He was mightily relieved that finally the good guys had shown up but yet he was still hugely concerned at the same time. The cavalry may have arrived but the Watcher still had the ring in his hand and hadn't made any move to give it to those that could return it to its rightful owner – the Almighty One.

David was thinking along the same lines too and turned away from the angel fussing over him to stare in MacBeth's direction.

“If you don't want the ring for yourself then give it to one of them, then. That's what someone who has sworn to protect the integrity of the laws of the land would do. If you're not as bad as them” – David nodded his head in the direction of the chained-up trio – “then you'll do the right thing.”

MacBeth smiled beneath his dark hood. The boy did, of course, have a point. And, yes, he had just said he had sworn to do those things that they boy had just said. But the power of the ring ... it could change everything ... he would become great just as those three witch taxi drivers had once predicted all those years ago ...

The angels advanced and surrounded MacBeth as he stood quietly looking at the ring, contemplating its magnificence and the lure of its power. David exchanged an anxious look with Eric. MacBeth glanced down at David and nodded his head slowly

“You are right, young sir,” MacBeth said finally. “It is not mine to take. Nor is it my place to cause pain and suffering to others by taking advantage of a situation that has presented it to myself. I am not worthy of holding such a great power. I am not a bad person. I will gladly see it returned.” MacBeth tossed the ring in David's direction. “But I would rather see you, the person who has held it safe for so long, give it back.”

David turned the bracelet over in his hands and smiled as the warm comfort that it had given him during his times of hurt coursed through him one final time.

The commander of the army of angels sheathed his sword and approached David.

“It is time for the ring to be returned,” he said.

With one last lingering look, David sighed and handed the ring over to the angel. A great cheer erupted from the other angels and David couldn't help but smile at being the centre of attention.

“Well done, David,” Eric said, giving him a hearty slap on the back and beaming with pride. “I always thought there was something special about you.”

“Aye, that'll be why you kidnapped him like, eh?” Pigkiller muttered to Rodney.

The commanding angel turned towards MacBeth and bowed gracefully in acknowledgement at his part in proceedings.

“We are truly indebted to you, Master MacBeth, for your diligence and integrity,” he said softly.

MacBeth merely nodded then started to walk towards the doorway leading out of the chamber. He stopped as he reached it and glanced back over his shoulder at Eric and the others.

“One more thing I should add,” he said. “The charges brought against the elf, the pygmy and the dwarf, and the sentences they were all ordered to serve, have, in light of extenuating circumstances, been quashed. You are now all free to return to your normal lives.”

Everyone cheered again as the Watcher took one last look around and disappeared out into the dark corridor beyond the chamber.

As the chaos of recent events and the celebrations calmed down, the commanding angel consulted with his fellow angels and then looked at David, Eric, Pigkiller, Rodney, Peter, Josef, Robbie and Tracy in turn.

“You have all served your races well and deserve to be rewarded for saving this world and all life as we know it,” he said. “As such, it has been decided that you may each choose your own reward.”

Everyone's eyes lit up. Pigkiller's hand shot into the air. The angel ignored the little pygmy and turned to Robbie first.

“For alerting us to the peril facing your friends, and for not peeing against any of the trees in the City of High Clouds, what reward do you most desire, Master Robbie?”

With both eyebrows raised, and his tail wagging ten to the dozen, Robbie quickly thought about what he would most like.

“I'd really like to break my contract and quit my job as a pet in the Overworld,” he answered with a smile. “I can't stand living with those farking Pickwicks anymore. I'd really love to get a decent job and be somewhere where I could get nice long walks every day.”

The angel nodded.

“Very well, consider your contract broken,” he said. “You are free to choose a new job. Young Tracy, what would you like?”

A new wand, a new handbag, a new pair of shoes, a new dress were the first things that flashed through her mind, but in the end she didn't choose any of them.

“I'd quite like to go on a date with that handsome young angel who answered the gate in the City of High Clouds,” she said, blushing slightly. “He was a lovely young devil of a thing.”

The angel raised an eyebrow in surprise and glanced at one of his comrades.

“Who was on gate detail today?” he asked.

“I believe it was Robin, sir.”

The angel looked back at Tracy and smiled broadly.

“Yes, I'm sure that can be arranged.”

“Oh, goody,” Tracy said, clapping her hands together excitedly.

The angel turned to Peter next.

“And for you, brave troll?”

Peter ran a hand through the thick hair on his head as he thought about it for a moment.

“Oh, hmm, yes, what would I like?” he muttered to himself. He smiled. “Yes, I know. I do find that having all this long hair all over my body makes it a real pain trying to find nice clothing that fits properly, so I would very much like to have some finely tailored clothing to wear for a change.”

“I'll let our tailor know and have him come down to see you,” the angel said.

“And you, my orc friend?”

With Rodney's stomachs rumbling louder than ever, there was really only one answer he was going to give. Drool dribbled down his chin and dropped down onto his podgy belly.

“Food and lots of it!” he shouted, licking his lips. “I want sweets for breakfast, sweets for lunch, sweets for dinner, and sweets for supper. And then I'd like a tray of crummy-but-yummy pies for a midnight feast. And then I'd like a jar full of fizzing dyna-candy and a –”

The angel quickly raised his hand and stopped Rodney in mid-flow.

“I get the idea,” he said ruefully. “I'll see what I can do. Now, your turn, courageous pygmy?”

Pigkiller rubbed his hands together gleefully.

“Aye, magic like,” he said, grinning. “I'd like a small version of one of them flaming swords you lot all have, please. They look like fantastic fun, like. Just think of the mischief I can cause with one of them, eh, Peter?”

“Trying not to, dear boy,” Peter muttered.

The angel merely nodded and pulled a small jewelled blade from his belt.

“Be extremely careful with this,” he warned, handing the blade to Pigkiller. “Just hold down that emerald to –”

The small blade erupted in flame and Pigkiller's eyes lit up with glee.

“Aye, I think I've sussed it, like,” he said, grinning from ear to ear as he waved the flaming blade from side to side, narrowly missing Peter's hairy hands each time. “Ho-ho-ho, magic like, eh?”

Peter groaned and dodged the flaming blade as it got just a little bit too close for his liking. If he'd known Pigkiller was going to ask for that then he would have asked for some fire-proof clothing rather than finely-tailored clothing.

The angel turned to Josef next.

“And for you, good sir fairy?”

Josef hadn't taken his eyes off Tracy from the moment she had floated gracefully down into the chamber and a soppy smile seemed to have permanently etched itself across his face. He blushed slightly as he realised everyone was looking at him staring at Tracy.

“I-I-I realise Tracy has just requested a date with an angel,” he began, “but I was wondering if maybe she'd like to consider going out with me sometime in the near future, if she wasn't too busy and if she could put up with the idea of being seen with someone old enough to be her great-great-great-great-great grandfather?”

The angel glanced at Tracy who seemed to be blushing even more brightly than she had done just a short while previously.

“Of course, I'd understand completely if she wouldn't like to,” Josef added hastily, “and in which case I'd also quite like a nice pair of sandals like you're wearing.”

Tracy was lost for words, but being the game girl she was she figured what the heck.

“Well, I ... yes, all right then,” she said, smiling. Two dates set-up in double quick time and helping to save the world all in the same day. Not bad for an ex- tooth fairy. “Yes, why not indeed?”

The angel suppressed a smile and looked at Chuckles next. Chuckles wasn't looking at him, though. He had the polish out and was giving his beloved warhammer some tender loving care after being parted from it for the longest length of time since the day he had first picked it up in a dwarf antiques store in town.

“Aye, your go, Chuckles,” Pigkiller said, waving his flaming blade in front of the dwarf's face to catch his attention. Nothing, no matter what, was going to distract Chuckles from whispering sweet nothings to his warhammer, though. Pigkiller looked up at the angel and shrugged his shoulders. “Aye, I reckon a tin of your best polish would probably hit the spot, like,” he said. “Maybe a nice cloth as well if you have any, like.”

“I think we can manage that,” the angel said, eyeing Chuckles close liaison with his warhammer suspiciously. He shook his head briskly and turned to Eric. “And for you, brave elf?”

Eric had been thinking hard about what he would most like in the whole world but hearing the angel call him brave was more than enough reward in itself and he felt his chest swelling with pride. But there was maybe one thing that he would like...

“It was my fault that I took David down into the Underworld and dragged him into all this, but I know how awful his life in the Overworld was and, seeing how happy he looks now, I would most like for it to be possible for him to stay in the Underworld and for him to never have to go back to his parents' house.”

David's jaw dropped in surprise and he glanced up at Eric with an overwhelmed look. He had thought that Eric would still want to take him back to the Overworld.

“Is it possible to rewrite the laws of the land to make an exception in David's case to let him stay here?” Eric pleaded. “I'd take good care of him.”

“Aye, we'd all take good care of him,” Pigkiller piped up.

David felt close to tears. He could never have expected the warmth and desire shown by his new friends to keep him in the Underworld.

“Given that this young man has brought the Almighty One's ring back to us, I think that we can make an exception in his case,” the angel said. “That is, of course, assuming he wishes to remain here. Wouldn't you prefer to return to your home in the Overworld, David?”

David smiled broadly and shook his head.

“Not a chance in the slightest if it's all the same to you,” he said. “I want to stay here with Eric and the others.”

“Then so be it,” the angel said, smiling. “As your reward, young David, you are now to be considered as an honourary Underworlder and will be treated as such until your dying day. You need never return to the Overworld again if you so wish.”

“Yeah!” David shouted, punching the air in delight.

He was quickly surrounded by Eric, Pigkiller and the others as they congratulated him on getting his wish. The angel turned and gestured for his fellow angels to take the three angry prisoners away and leave the brave friends to get on with their celebrating. As the last of the angels rose through the hole in the ceiling, and as the shaft of light beaming down into the chamber started to fade, a thought suddenly occurred to David. He pulled himself free of the group hug that they were all jumping about in and looked around the empty chamber.

“Where's Flik-Flak?” he asked. “I'd have thought he'd have made it back here by now. Pigkiller, did you see him anywhere on your way in?”

The little pygmy stopped jumping about for a moment, thought about it, then shook his head and started bouncing around in delight again.

David looked round the chamber again and suddenly spotted a green face peering round the doorway from the darkened corridor.

“Have I missed something?” Flik-Flak asked, looking puzzled. “Where did Big Red and Tony go?”

“Nah, you didn't miss anything,” Pigkiller answered, laughing. “We just saved the world but apart from that nothing much happened, like.”

The others joined their little friend in laughter and even Flik-Flak, despite not quite knowing why, soon found himself laughing along with them as they waved him into their little huddle to continue the celebrations.

Chapter Twenty Four - Twists and Turns

2010-02-12T22:31:00.005Z

Eric slowly pushed himself up from the hard chamber floor and lifted his eyes even more slowly at the two menacing figures glaring down at him.

Given the choice he'd gladly be down at the very bottom of the Bottomless Pit rather than being confronted by the two people he most feared in the whole of the Underworld. Neither looked particularly pleased to see him either it has to be said.

“My, my, my, what have we here?” Big Red growled. “It is most unfortunate for you that you always seem to be right in the middle of all that has been going, isn't it, Eric?” Big Red glowered at the trolls that had hauled him into the chamber. “Why have you brought this pathetic elf before me again?” he demanded. “I did not order you to do so!”

“Elf tried to escape,” a brave guard answered. “We caught him in tunnel from one of old caves escaping with three others.”

“And where are they?”

The guard gulped and looked at his two comrades for help. Both were intent at staring at the ground.

“They... um, got away,” the guard mumbled. Big Red roared in anger and a great ball of flame erupted from his mouth, racing up towards the ceiling where it sparked off into a thousand little fireworks.

He turned his attention towards Eric, still raging.

“Going somewhere, were you, Eric?”

Tony cut Eric off before he could answer, though.

“Enough!” he boomed. “His attempt to escape is of no consequence to me. However, your actions at your trial do concern me greatly, Eric!”

“I-I-I didn't mean to mention your name,” Eric stammered, cringing with fear as Tony fixed with him with a stare that could melt lead. “It just kind of came out. I was coerced. I was framed. I was ... sorry, Tony.”

“Sorry doesn't quite cut it, Eric,” Tony fumed. “It's not even close. I had a dozen of those pesky Watchers crawling all over my casino looking for me and for evidence of my wrongdoings. Do you have any idea how bad that was for my business?!”

“Pretty bad?” Eric suggested, then realised he should have kept him mouth shut.

“Pretty bad! Pretty bad!” Tony snarled, his voice cracking with rage. “It was infinitely worse than just pretty bad, my dear elf! There were over two thousand fools in my casino before those harbingers of doom burst in and cleared everyone out! Even as we speak, the windows of my casino are being boarded up and the doors nailed shut!”

Eric knew he should be trying to look remorseful so that Tony would take it easier on him, but he couldn't help but let a small smile creep onto his face. Inadvertently he had saved a lot of people from further hardship and suffering at Tony's hands.

“I see you think that it's quite funny,” Tony said, lowering his voice until he was speaking in an ominously calm manner. “Maybe you'd find it even funnier if I ripped your throat out!”

Big Red was finding it funny, though.

“And it was Eric that told me you were seeking the ring too, Tony,” he roared, throwing his head back with laughter. “He didn't even need much persuading to sell you out. Now everyone knows how much of a crook you really are!”

Tony glared at Big Red with a burning hatred in his eyes.

“Keep laughing, you buffoon,” Tony said, through gritted teeth. “You'll be laughing on the other side of your face soon enough.”

The laughter stopped.

“Is that a threat, Tony?”

“That, my black-toothed friend, is a promise.”

As the two archenemies forgot about Eric and squared up to each other again, Eric took the opportunity to try and escape and darted towards the side entrance to the chamber. He managed to side step two of the guards but the third caught him with a glancing blow to the side of the head with a club and sent him tumbling to the ground with a clatter.

Big Red and Tony immediately turned towards him once again.

“What's happening to Eric?” Rodney whispered. “I can't see what's going on.”

David tore his eyes away from the events in the chamber and glanced over his shoulder at the others. He didn't really know what to tell them – Eric was in an awful predicament.

“He just tried to escape but one of the guards knocked him down,” he whispered, as the others crowded round him. “We need to get him out of there as soon as possible before something really bad happens to him.”

“Agreed,” Flik-Flak said. “But how? We don't stand a chance against those troll guards, let alone Big Red and Tony. We need some kind of distraction.”

A muffled trumpeting sound erupted from Rodney's direction. All eyes turned towards the embarrassed-looking orc as he crossed his legs and held a hand to his mouth.

“Sorry, must have been my lunch coming back for seconds,” he muttered, averting his eyes from their gaze. “I've got a suggestion, though,” he added quickly.

“What is it?” David asked.

“Well, what if me and Peter pretend to be a guard again and walk in there and tell them that the bracelet thingy has been found somewhere in town,” Rodney said. “They're bound to forget all about Eric in their rush to get there and get their hands on it. Then it'll be a piece of cake” – Rodney licked his lips for a moment – “to get Eric out of there safely.”

“Seems like a good plan to me,” Flik-Flak said. “But we still need to find Pigkiller and Chuckles too. I'll go and look for them elsewhere in this fortress while you two” – Flik-Flak looked at both Peter and Rodney in turn – “put the plan into action and get Eric out of there.”

“What shall I do?” David asked.

Flik-Flak didn't really want him to do anything as the truth about the bracelet made it imperative for David to stay out of sight and as safe as possible.

“You just stay here for now and keep an eye on what's going on,” Flik-Flak said. “We can't risk you going in there with Peter and Rodney and getting captured by either of those two maniacs, and who knows what kind of danger lurks ahead where I must go to try and find the others. Am I making myself understood, David?”

David looked a little hurt by Flik-Flak's decision and once again felt like he was being treated like a little kid. He had the bracelet, after all, and he was confident that he could use it to help without it falling into the wrong hands. The situation was getting critical for Eric and they could all use all the help that they could get. But Flik-Flak had made up his mind, though, and that was that.

“I understand,” David muttered.

“Good. At the first sign of things getting out of hand, I want you to use the bracelet to make yourself invisible and get out of here as quickly as you can.”

David nodded forlornly and watched as Peter clambered onto Rodney's shoulders once more.

“Can you pass me Chuckles' warhammer, please?” Peter asked, as he draped the long cloak down over himself and Rodney. David retrieved the warhammer from its resting place against the wall and handed it up to Peter. “Many thanks,” Peter said, smiling weakly. “Are you ready, Rodney?”

“Yup.”

Flik-Flak patted David on the back and gave a thumbs-up to Peter.

“Good luck, everyone,” he whispered. “May the Almighty One be with us!”

With that, Flik-Flak lit the torch once again and hurried back down the dark corridor to try and find their other lost friends. Peter gulped nervously. Rescuing Eric was going to be down to him again.

“Wish me luck,” Peter whispered, looking anxiously down at David.

“Good luck.”

The troll smiled weakly.

“Onwards, Rodney. Eric needs us.”

Struggling with both Peter on his shoulders and the additional weight of Chuckles' warhammer, Rodney slowly walked forward and the two friends entered the chamber. David peered round the edge of the entrance once again and watched as Peter and Rodney moved unnoticed around the edge of the chamber.

Suddenly that all too familiar tingling sensation underneath his bracelet returned. Someone was coming down the corridor towards him. Maybe Flik-Flak was going to let him go find Chuckles and Pigkiller after all? But if it was Flik-Flak, then why was the bracelet giving him the feeling that it was someone evil?

Before he could answer that, he had a feeling that whoever it was had reached him and was standing right behind him in silence. A chill ran down David's spine.

“Flik-Flak?” David whispered, turning round in the hope of his seeing his new friend.

The black-cloaked menace of the most twisted of Watchers towered over him. Finally, Laertes had tracked him down. Instinctively, David reached for the bracelet to protect himself, but the Watcher was faster - surprisingly so – and grabbed his arm before he could make contact.

“Oh, I don't think so, little one,” Laertes rasped. “I knew you'd try to rescue your elf friend. But I'm afraid you won't be getting away from me this time!”

Chapter Twenty Three - Knocking on Heaven's Door

2010-02-12T22:31:00.004Z

“Ooh, you do get a lovely view from up here, don't you?” Tracy said, admiring the view from her seat on the taxi, sitting just behind the quietly cackling witch in front of her. “I really don't know how you can have your eyes shut like that, Robbie. You're really missing out, I tell you.”

Robbie wasn't listening to Tracy, though. His ears were pinned so far back by a combination of the wind rushing past them and his own outright fear that he couldn't hear anything other than the blood rushing in his head. His paws were beginning to hurt from gripping the stick so tightly in order to keep from falling off. How he despised flying. Quite why he had volunteered for this mission was beyond him. He hadn't really wanted to leave David with the others as it was, but he knew that what he and Tracy were racing at breakneck speed high into the sky to try and do was crucial to the surprisingly complex plan that Rodney had explained to them all. While David, Flik-Flak, Rodney and Peter would be attempting to get into the Gulag to rescue Eric and the others, he and Tracy were given the task of getting the cavalry ready for when the trouble really kicked off.

“There it is, my lovelies,” the witch said, in-between cackles, “the City of High Clouds.”

Tracy looked over the witch's shoulder and ooh'd and aah'd for a moment. Robbie peeked an eye open for a split second but, seeing only the clouds whizzing past beneath them, quickly shut it once again.

“What's ... what's it look like?” he asked, trying to sound calm but failing miserably.

“Ooh, it's just fab,” Tracy answered. “I wouldn't even know where to begin. Really, Robbie, just open your eyes and take a peek. Besides, we're high above the clouds now so you can't even see the ground.”

That hardly made it any easier for him but Robbie steeled himself and opened his eyes. He still felt a little shaky but the sight in front of him more than took his mind off the fear. Floating on a giant cloud, the City of High Clouds stretched out across a great expanse of the horizon and sparkled like diamonds in the streaming sunlight. As they drew closer, the buildings came more clearly into view and he couldn't help but be staggered by the sheer magnificence of the architecture. More than that, though, all the buildings seemed to be made of glass and he could quite clearly see hundreds of the brightly glowing celestial beings busily going about their work.

“I'll just land down there,” the witch said, slowing down and banking down towards what looked like a path leading up to a huge set of gates. The witch brought them down gently and landed perfectly on the path just short of the gates. “That'll be two gold coins, please,” she said, holding out a pale hand. “Costs a little extra to go this far up, you know.”

“I quite understand,” Tracy said, handing over two gold coins with a smile.

“Would you like me to wait for you?” the witch asked, turning her broomstick around so it was pointing the other way. “If you're not going to be long, it's no bother for me to sit here and wait a while? Costs a little extra to wait, of course.”

Robbie glanced at the massive gates in front of them. There was no sign of any welcoming committee and the gates looked pretty securely shut.

“Hmm, I think we're going to be a while,” he said, shaking his head. “Thanks anyway, though.”

The witch shrugged her shoulders then threw her head back and cackled wildly as she sped off on her broomstick.

“Ooh, she had rotten teeth, didn't she?” Tracy muttered. “Maybe I should have given her some of my special toothpaste instead of money. Oh, well, never mind, eh? Let's have a look at these gates, then.”

“Well, that's what we're here for,” Robbie said, leading the way up the path. “I just hope that someone will hear us knocking and let us in!”

The gates, some fifty feet wide, were constructed with dozens of bars rising some twenty feet in height and seemed to be made of a strange material that Robbie was unfamiliar with, although they had a smell lingering about them that was faintly familiar. Tracy smiled in recognition and patted one of the bars with affection as they reached the gate.

“Lovely bars these, aren't they?” she said. “When I worked for the Tooth-Fairy Union we used to make these bars out of thousands upon thousands of the finest teeth that we could lay our hands on. Pearly bars we used to call them. Give them a nice coating of polish and they'll shine for forever and a day or your money back. I had no idea that they had sold a set of them to make this gate, though. Who'd have thought it, eh?”

Ah, thought Robbie. No wonder the smell was familiar. It was that strange concoction of morning breath and minty freshness that existed in humans' mouths at a certain time of the day just after they'd brushed their teeth. Nothing else smelled quite like it in the whole of existence. Thank the Almighty One!

“That's nice,” Robbie muttered, not quite sure what else to say. “Moving swiftly on ...”

Grasping the huge knocker hanging from the centre of the gate, he pulled it back as best he could, then releasing his grip, let it fall back down hard.

DONG!

Both Tracy and Robbie hastily covered their ears as the reverberations echoed all around them, temporarily deafening them.

“THERE DOESN'T SEEM TO BE ANYONE AROUND!” Tracy shouted, speaking loudly so she could just about hear herself.

Robbie uncovered his ears and looked at her blankly.

“WHAT'S THAT YOU‟RE SAYING?” he shouted back, his ears still ringing from before. “SPEAK UP!”

“EH? SORRY, I DIDN'T CATCH ALL THAT,” Tracy replied, shaking her head apologetically.

Robbie was trying to lip read what she was saying but quickly realised that he couldn't and stopped. Just as he opened his mouth to shout back at her again, the gate cracked open slightly and a young-looking angel popped their shining head out.

“What the devil is going on out here?” asked the angel crossly. “Will you kindly stop that intolerable shouting!”

Tracy looked blankly at the young angel for a moment then smiled weakly as she hadn't the faintest idea what he had just said. Robbie's hearing was starting to come back again and he had caught the last half of what had been said.

“No one's been shouting out here,” he said. “Just you when you opened the gate just then.”

The angel glowered at Robbie.

“Think you're a bit of a wise guy, eh?” he muttered. “Fancy yourself as a bit of a comedian, do you? Think you can just waltz up here and take the mick out of us angels, eh? Well, see how funny you find this then!”

With that, the angel slammed the gate shut once again and started to walk away.

“Hey! Hey, buddy!” Robbie shouted, rattling the gates with his paws. “I'm sorry. There's just been a misunderstanding. We need to talk to someone urgently. You've got to let us in!”

The angel stopped in his tracks, slowly turned around and walked back towards the gate. He wasn't looking amused.

“And why should I do that? Who are you here to see anyway?”

Robbie looked at Tracy and she nodded quickly, urging him on.

“We... we need to speak to the Almighty One,” he said tentatively.

The angel's eyes widened for a moment but he quickly recovered himself. He looked a little disturbed nonetheless, however.

“And why would that be, then?” he asked, smiling nervously.

“There's something really important going on that we need to talk to him about,” Robbie replied quickly. “It really is very important and there isn't much time.”

The angel raised an eyebrow and then pulled a pocket watch from under his white cloak. He glanced at the face, scowling.

“Looks like there's plenty of time to me,” he said firmly, putting the watch away again. “Do you have an appointment?”

“I-I-I ...” Robbie stammered, looking at Tracy for help.

“No, we don't have an appointment,” she said apologetically. “But I'm sure we don't really need one though, do we?” she added, smiling sweetly and fluttering her eyelashes. “You look like a nice, reasonable person and I'm sure we can come to some kind of understanding.”

The angel wasn't impressed by Tracy's flirting.

“Ha – no, I'm an absolute swine, so you can't come in unless you've got an appointment,” he sneered.

Robbie and Tracy were both taken aback by the rudeness of the angel and started to panic at their lack of progress, especially since the others would be counting on them later on when the other part of Rodney's plan was put into action.

“Well, can we make an appointment, then?” Robbie asked.

“No, you can't,” the angel replied tersely, starting to close the gate again.

Thinking quickly, Tracy put her foot over the threshold and howled out in pain as the angel tried to push the gate shut.

“Would you mind taking your foot out of there?” the angel demanded, pulling the gate open so that Tracy could remove her foot.

“Not until you tell us why we can't make an appointment?” Tracy snapped, snarling through clenched teeth.

The angel didn't look like he wanted to answer, but the seeing the grim look of determination etched on the fairy's face, he finally conceded.

“You can't make an appointment because... because he's not in just now,” he answered. “Now, will you please kindly remove your foot?”

“What do you mean, he's not in?” Robbie asked. “He's the main man up here, isn't he? He's the one we're led to believe is looking after everything, isn't he? He's always here, surely?”

The angel was beginning to look slightly uncomfortable. Robbie was sure he was hiding something.

“Ah, well, you see, here's the thing,” the angel began, struggling to find the right words, “he's kind of... um, kind of on holiday at the moment.”

Robbie raised an eyebrow. He could tell that the angel wasn't quite telling the whole story and decided to get a little more to the point with his questioning.

“When's he due back, then?” he growled, baring his teeth slightly.

The angel started to sweat a little, nervously.

“He ... he's ... well, we don't really know,” he admitted, with an almost guilty look on his face. “No one here knows.”

“Where did he go?” Tracy asked, stunned by his answer.

The angel shook his head forlornly.

“We don't know.”

“Well, how long has he been gone for, then?” Robbie asked.

“Oh, not long. About two thousand years maybe ... give or take a hundred or so.”

Robbie and Tracy were flabbergasted. In a day filled with incredible revelations, it was yet another one to add to the list. They could scarcely believe their ears.

“Why ... why did he leave?” Tracy asked, barely getting the words out. “He couldn't have just left without saying anything? I can't believe he's left us alone for all this time.”

The angel looked close to tears at having been made to make such a confession but he managed to compose himself enough to answer the question.

“He left a note behind which told us why he was leaving. It was found by his wife the day after he disappeared. It said that he was just taking a short break as he had lost something which he needed to find before it was too late.” Robbie exchanged a wide-eyed look with Tracy. “It also said that he knew he was leaving everything in capable hands and that he hoped he would be back before anyone missed him,” the angel continued.

“Wasn't there anything else at all?” Tracy asked.

“Just a P.S. which said that the bins had to be left out on the first day of each week and that there were some bills which needed to be paid. Apart from that, there was nothing else.”

“This is just plain crazy,” Robbie muttered under his breath. A thought suddenly occurred to him. “The Almighty One's wife,” he began, “she wouldn't happen to be called Babs, would she?”

The angel eyed him suspiciously.

“Why do you ask?”

“'Cos the reason we're here is because a friend of mine has found something which belonged to someone else and was given to them by someone called Babs,” Robbie replied.

The angel's eyes widened.

“It wouldn't happen to be a ring, would it?” he asked breathlessly.

“No, it's a bracelet.”

“But ring-shaped though, yes?”

“I guess.”

The angel suddenly became very excited and glanced over his shoulder to see if there was anyone else nearby to share in his excitement.

“Where is your friend now?” he asked, struggling to contain himself. “Is he somewhere safe?”

Robbie shook his head and immediately the angel frowned.

“Well, that's why we're here,” Robbie said, “'cos my friend and a few others are about to walk into the worst place in the entire universe!”

The angel gasped.

“Not Motherland, surely?!”

“Um... no, worse than that.”

“Can't be that cheap imitation bar called Heaven, can it?”

“Nope,” Robbie said flatly.

Just as the angel opened his mouth to have another guess, Robbie quickly continued.

“He's about to try and get into the Gulag to rescue some other friends of ours. We've come here to get the cavalry to rescue all of them before it all gets out of hand.”

The angel looked puzzled.

“The Gulag? What's that?”

“You don't know what the Gulag is?” Robbie asked incredulously.

“Well, no. We've never heard of it up here. Since the big guy has been gone we've been a bit isolated from what's going on down in the Underworld and the Overworld. It doesn't sound very nice though, whatever it is?”

“You got that right,” Robbie said, “it's pretty much everyone's worst nightmare. And if Big Red gets his hands on David before he can rescue Eric and the others then –”

“Whoa! Hold on!” the angel exclaimed, interrupting Robbie. “Did you say, Big Red?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh no! This is just terrible! Big Red should still have been safely locked up in chains! He should never have escaped! Oh no! If only the Almighty One was still here...!”

The angel banged his fist against the gate and sobbed uncontrollably into his arm for a moment before pulling himself together and fixing Robbie and Tracy with something of a fake smile.

“I ... I think you'd better come in and tell us all exactly what's been going on,” he said, pulling the gate wide open and standing aside for them to enter the celestial city. “I ... I think I'll take you to the High Temple and from there we'll gather my fellow angels together to come to your friend's aid. If Big Red gets his hands on the ring then we're all going to be in more trouble than we, and even the Almighty One himself, can handle. It would be the end of life as we all know it!”

Robbie and Tracy both gulped in unison and followed behind the angel as he led them with haste down a long path leading towards a tall shining spire at the heart of the city. The gates slammed shut behind them, ringing ominously in their ears.

“I can't believe we're even trying this,” Peter whispered down the front of his long cloak. “It's just suicide, I tell you.”

A muffled reply came back at him from underneath the bottom half of the cloak.

“It'll work just as long as you don't lose your head and start panicking.”

“Well, that's easy for you to say, Rodney, but you're not the one that has to speak to these barbarians! And would you stop fidgeting around down there – I'll fall off if you're not careful!”

A pronounced cough caused Peter to carefully glance round over his shoulder. Flik-Flak's green face was half-sticking out from the middle of another long cloak that was hanging down from David's shoulders high above the goblin. David's face was covered with dark hairs and he looked like a young, if somewhat unwell, troll. He was carrying Chuckles' warhammer with difficulty in both hands.

“Hey, take it easy, you guys,” Flik-Flak snapped. “The time to argue about the relative merits and faults of Rodney's plan was over an hour ago. It's too late now to start raising your doubts, Peter. Now, we're counting on you to put on a good show for the guards, so don't let us down!”

David smiled sympathetically at the nervous-looking troll as he lifted his eyes in David's direction. Poor Peter. Being the only troll in their group, he was the only choice for talking to the trolls guarding the entrance to the Gulag. Rodney's plan to get into the Gulag hinged entirely on Peter convincing the guards that he and David were fellow guards on their way to work down in the Pit. Whether or not the guards would be convinced that two strangely-shaped and funny-looking trolls such as Peter and David were really guards was a different matter altogether. If either Flik-Flak or Rodney made even so much as a single misplaced step, then the whole pretence that they were really as big as they looked would be shattered. But there really wasn't any choice, though – most of the guards seemed to be giant trolls and were at least double the height of ordinary trolls such as Peter. If each of the four of them had tried to pretend to be a guard then they wouldn't have got very far at all. However, Flik-Flak was right – even if they did look the part, then whether they got into the Gulag or not depended almost entirely on Peter.

“We're almost there, gents, so just remember why we have to be successful in getting inside,” Flik-Flak said, keeping his voice low. “The whole plan is riding on this. No pressure though, Peter.”

The black gates of the Gulag loomed ominously in front of them as they crossed over the bridge leading from the High Street of the Animal Quarter and walked steadfastly towards the two brutish trolls standing either side of the entrance.

The guards were absentmindedly talking to each other as Peter and David came to a halt a few yards from them.

“... then me hit him on head with club and he fall down again but –”

One of the guards noticed Peter and David standing a short distance away and stopped his comrade short.

“Who you?” the guard asked, picking his club up from where it was leaning against the gate.

It was crunch time and Peter duly rose to the challenge (albeit with a slight stutter).

“I ... we-we're new g-guards,” he said. “We're here for our first shift.”

The guard seemed to mull this slowly over in his mind. A few long moments later and it finally seemed to sink in.

“What your names?” he asked, his brain clearly working as hard as it had ever done and really looking like it was hurting.

“I-I-I'm ...” – Peter paused for a moment to think – “I'm Bruiser and this here is Nutter.”

The guards exchanged a look of surprise.

“You Bruiser?” the guard who had been silent asked.

Not quite sure why the guard was asking, Peter merely nodded his head and kept quiet. David looked on nervously from behind.

“You the Bruiser that used live in Dung-Bung Hills?” the guard continued.

“Um, yes?” Peter answered hesitantly. “Heard of me, have you?”

“You big shot in Dung-Bung Hills when me young troll,” the guard said. “Me used to live in Dung-Bung Hills but come here for work. Brother used to know you, though. His name Trevor.”

This kind of response from the guards wasn't part of the plan and David glanced anxiously at Peter. The troll seemed to be growing in confidence, though.

“Oh, yes, I remember Trevor,” Peter said. “He was a great guy. Big heart. What's he up to these days?”

“He dead.”

Silence.

“Oh,” Peter muttered finally.

“Me never like him anyway. Me marry his wife now.”

“That's nice for you, I'm sure,” Peter commented, not sure what else to say. “Can you let us in now?”

The guards waved Peter and David through but just as Peter reached out to push open the gate, the first guard stopped him abruptly.

“You know where you going, yes?” he grunted. “If you want, me get someone show you round?”

As helpful as that offer was, Peter quickly declined it with a shake of the head and the guard moved out of the way again, pushing open the heavy gates for them. The guards smiled at Peter and David as they walked past and entered the Gulag, then quickly pulled the gate shut again, locking it in place.

Peter let out a huge sigh of relief and wiped a bead of sweat from his hairy brow. So far so good, though.

The front of David's cloak opened slightly and Flik-Flak poked his face out.

“Well done, everyone,” Flik-Flak whispered encouragingly. “Right, what next, Rodney?”

There was no response other than a muffled crunching sound from underneath Peter's cloak.

“Rodney?!”

The crunching stopped and the orc poked his head out from behind the cloak.

“Uh-huh,” he mumbled, his mouth full of cracker bread.

Flik-Flak rolled his eyes and shook his head. He didn't know why he bothered sometimes.

“What's the next stage of your plan?” he asked.

The orc stared blankly at him for a moment while he chewed the cracker bread in his mouth, then suddenly he nodded and smiled.

“Oh, yeah, the plan,” he said. “I remember now.” He swallowed hard and gulped down the last of the cracker bread. “We've got to find where Eric and the others are being held,” he continued. “So I reckon we're going to have to take a look in Big Red's fortress.”

“Assuming that they're not down in the pit already,” David commented.

“Hmm, yes, that is a possibility, isn't it?” Flik-Flak mused. “But I think we'll stick to Rodney's plan. If they're not in the fortress then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Looking puzzled, Rodney glanced towards the dark fortress for a moment then back at Flik-Flak.

“Is there a bridge over there, is there?”

Flik-Flak shook his head slowly and pulled his head back behind the cloak.

“There will almost certainly be more guards outside the fortress so it's up to you again, Peter,” Flik-Flak said, his voice muffled slightly. “But remember, we're all right behind you.”

“Or in my case, underneath you,” Rodney added. “I didn't realise you were this heavy, Peter. Have you been putting on weight recently?”

“Huh? Oh, you cheeky devil. I'm as light as a daisy, I'll have you know. I've never been so black-affronted in my whole life!”

“Farking heavy daisy, then,” Rodney retorted, quick as a flash. “And you maybe haven't been black-affronted as such, but your body hairs are a pretty dark shade of brown!”

Despite their nerves, the brave foursome all laughed heartily helping to break the tension of the situation. Whether or not they'd still be laughing in a short while when it was all over was a different matter altogether, though.

With their spirits in good heart for now, David and Flik-Flak took the lead and headed towards the dark fortress in the far distance with Peter and Rodney following along close behind.

The smell of decay and death lingered all around them as they climbed the few short steps up towards the great iron door of the blackened fortress.

Flik-Flak had been wrong for once – there were no guards. Big Red must have thought that no one would have been that stupid to want to get into the fortress and clearly didn't think it worthwhile to have guards. Who could blame him though? The fearsome gargoyles leering down from the walls were more than enough to scare away any random passers-by (not that there were ever any of those though).

David was beginning to get that all too familiar nasty feeling again. However good their intentions were, and freeing their friends from this hellish place was as good as intentions get, there was no denying that they could be just about to make an awfully big mistake. Sure, they had the bracelet to help them, but David was well aware that he didn't really have the faintest idea of what else it was capable of doing or if he was even using it properly as it was. Making himself and the others invisible was one thing, and certainly had its uses, but taking on the most powerful being in the whole of the Underworld was quite another thing altogether. Of course, he hadn't dared mention any of this to the others as he didn't want to dampen their enthusiasm, but he hoped he wouldn't get caught out later on when things got nasty.

“I must say there's a very strange smell round here, isn't there?” Peter commented, as they reached the iron door. “I can't quite put my finger on what it is, though,” Peter continued. “It's a bit like –”

“Putrid Mud Sausages?” Rodney suggested, as Peter climbed down from his shoulders. “Putrid Mud Sausages and chips, I reckon. Mmm, lovely stuff!”

“No, I was going to say rotting corpses,” Peter corrected, shaking his head. “Although I hasten to add that I have never in all my life actually had occasion to sniff a rotting corpse to truly make that comparison an accurate one.”

“I think I know what the smell might be,” Flik-Flak said, slowly bending to let David drop gently to the ground. “I think it might be brimstone. It has rather a distinctive odour to it, which isn't too dissimilar from this smell. Just try covering your nose with your hand and that should ease it slightly. Hopefully it won't be so strong once we get inside.”

All eyes turned towards the great iron doors.

“Pretty big, ain't they?” Rodney muttered. “Don't make them much bigger than that these days.”

“Right enough,” Peter agreed.

David didn't want to waste any more time with small talk and decided to start letting his actions do all the talking. He handed the warhammer to Flik-Flak and approached the doors. Trying to look more confident than he actually felt, he put his hands purposefully against the iron doors and pushed. The doors swung open easily and clunked quietly as they came to rest against the inner walls. A waft of stale air rushed out and blew gently in their faces, making them all gag slightly. The corridor beyond the doorway was shrouded in near total darkness.

“Anyone got a light?” David asked, straining his eyes to see if he could see anything. “We need to make some kind of torch or something if we're going to find our way about in there.” He scanned the wall along the outside of the fortress to see if there was anything they could use and spotted an old shovel lying on the ground not far away. “Can I borrow one of your handkerchiefs, Flik-Flak?” he asked, as he picked up the shovel and pulled off the scoop.

“Yes, of course,” Flik-Flak said, taking one of out of his waistcoat pocket and handing it to David. “Rodney, you have some matches on you, don't you?”

As David tied the handkerchief round one end of the spade handle, Rodney reached a grubby hand inside his trousers and raked around in his little stash of goodies.

“No, that's not them,” he muttered, as he pulled out a small bag of fizzing dyna- candy and handed it to Peter for safekeeping. “And that's not them either,” he added, pulling out another small bag of fizzing dyna-candy and also handing that to Peter. “And, no, that ain't them either” – he handed a third bag of fizzing dyna-candy to a bemused-looking Peter – “but I think I might have them now.” A huge smile of relief spread across the orc's face as he pulled out a box of matches and passed them carefully to Flik-Flak. “Never leave home without them,” Rodney said proudly. “You just never know when you'll have to light up a fire to cook some dinner for yourself. I was just using them the other day in the middle of the tavern to make myself a nice wee stove to cook some uh-oh- stand-back-here-it-comes beans.”

Flik-Flak wasn't listening, though, and had already struck one match alight to hold out for David to light the torch he had fashioned. With their torch soon burning brightly and ready to light their path, David strode forward through the doorway and led the others into the darkened corridors of the fortress.

They walked on in absolute silence for several moments as the realisation of where they were and a growing sense of fear left them unable to speak. The light thrown out by the torch was good but only allowed them to see a short distance ahead before it faded into shadows then total darkness. For all they knew, trouble may only have been just a few metres ahead and there would no way of realising it until it was too late. As quietly as they were all trying to walk, David couldn't help but wince every time he took a step as the faint sound of his footfalls sounded to his ears like a tonne of bricks being dropped.

On and on they walked, every footstep taking them further and further into the fortress and closer to the terrifying being who resided somewhere within – Big Red. David's mind was conjuring up images of a gigantic creature with fiery red skin and a fiery red temper to match. It was the kind of image that would undoubtedly give him nightmares if he ever got the chance to catch some sleep again. Judging by the looks of abject fear on the faces of the others, they weren't a million miles away in their thinking either.

“Is ... is this corridor ever going to end?” Peter asked, whispering even more quietly than the quietest of mice. “We've been walking in a straight line for ages now.”

It was a good point. They'd been walking for quite a while and must have covered a fair distance so unless the fortress was a heck of a lot longer than it had looked then something wasn't quite right.

“If you look behind you should be able to tell how far we've come by how small the light at the entrance is,” Flik-Flak suggested.

Peter glanced over his shoulder for a moment then looked away again. He stopped abruptly in his tracks, turned and took a better look.

“Um ... I think you'd better stop and take a look, you guys,” he said.

They all stopped and looked back up the corridor. Where the light entering the doorway should have been, now there was absolutely nothing whatsoever other than utter darkness. Since they hadn't closed the door behind them, and since they hadn't heard it shutting by some other means, that meant that something definitely wasn't quite right.

“I've just had a thought,” Flik-Flak whispered, grabbing the torch from David's hand. He stood close to the wall and waved the torch back and forth quite rapidly so that its light seemed to spread out over a much longer stretch of corridor. A barely perceptible curve in the corridor revealed itself. “Oh dear,” Flik-Flak said, not even bothering to keep his voice down. “This is most unexpected.”

David took the torch back from Flik-Flak.

“Should we keep going and see where this passageway takes us or do you think we should head back to the entrance?” he asked.

“I think ... yes, I think we should just plough on,” Flik-Flak replied, not sounding entirely convinced in what he was saying.

A faint sound like a thousand voices whispering drifted towards them from further along the corridor.

“What's that they're saying?” Rodney asked. “Sounds a bit funny, doesn't it?”

It sounded funnier than he knew. It wasn't the sound of a thousand voices whispering that was growing louder and louder all around them with each passing moment. No, it soon became all too clear that it was the sound of a thousand demented voices cackling insanely that was bombarding them instead.

“Sounds like a convention of witches practising their taxi driving techniques or something,” Peter said, holding his hands to his ears to try and block out the incessant cackling. “Can someone just make them shut up, please?!”

There was no stopping them, though, wherever they were, and if anything the cackling grew louder and louder still.

“Come on,” David said, waving them onwards, “we've got to keep moving. Follow me.”

Torch in hand and a look of grim determination on his face, David urged the others on and quickened his pace along the corridor. Now that he knew the corridor was curving slightly, David could see it doing so without the need for waving the torch about like Flik-Flak had. He found focussing on the curve in the wall helped to alleviate the mind-numbing irritation of the fervent cackling and anything that could do that had to be worthwhile.

All of a sudden the corridor turned sharply to the right and a flickering shaft of light appeared a short distance in front of them. The cackling quickly faded as they neared the light. Raised voices coming from just ahead took their place instead. One of the raised voices was burning with hatred, rage and indignation. The other raised voice was just plain burning with everything.

David smothered the flame of the torch using his cloak and propped the extinguished torch against the wall. The four curious comrades crept up on the light coming through the open doorway and cautiously peered round the edge into the vast chamber that lay beyond.

Balls of fire were crashing against the walls. Great plumes of black smoke were billowing up into the ceiling. Beams of strong white light were spiralling out of control in every conceivable direction. In short, all hell was breaking loose! And at the centre of it all were two age-old adversaries who were busy renewing their acquaintance with each other. Neither, however, appeared even remotely interested in the social niceties of such an occasion.The crimson red menace of the black-horned giant that was Big Red eyeballed the glowing sheen and majesty of the being that was Tony.

“Just who do you think you are to have me taken here by force and chained like a common criminal?” Tony demanded, his voice burning with anger yet strangely smooth and crisp at the same time.

“Ha – 'cos you are a common criminal, Tony!” Big Red roared. “You have committed more crimes in your time in the Underworld than I ever did in my reign at the side of the Unsaid One in his unholy domain. Compared to you, I have been positively angelic since coming to the Underworld, which, given your former hallowed status, is quite a role reversal, wouldn't you say?”

Tony's eyes glowed with indignation.

“I think holding people here against their will to dig that infernal pit, to find the ring under the pretence of serving their sentences doing hard time, is far worse than anything I have ever done,” he retorted. “I can only imagine how much of a fool you must have felt when you finally learnt that you had been wasting your time searching in this wretched place for the ring when it had been in the Overworld all this time!”

A cruel smile spread slowly across the dark red face of the horned demon.

“And how much of a fool did you feel when you let a boy, a human boy, elude your clutches at every turn and come down here to the Underworld and run about flaunting the ring and its power for all to see?” Big Red growled. “But, then, you never were the brightest of the Almighty One's disciples, were you, Tony? Little wonder, then, you were given the sack!”

“I left of my own accord,” Tony protested.

“That's not what I heard,” Big Red sneered. “That's not what I heard at all.”

Tony strained at his chains but they were bolted to the ground and held fast. Big Red laughed at his long-time rival's failings.

“And what of the Unsaid One?” Tony snapped. “Is he aware of your pathetic fumblings to capture the ring for yourself?”

The smile quickly faded from Big Red's face.

“And what of him? He is of no consequence to me now. His power is weakened and he holds no control nor fear over me.”

It was Tony's turn to laugh.

“Ah, yes. That would explain why you cringed slightly when I said his name. He holds no fear over you? I think not, my ugly friend.”

“Watch your words, you fallen angel, for they may be your last! You are in no position to question my power.”

“Oh, really,” Tony said, smiling.

A momentary flash of light blinded everyone in the room, including those peeking in wide-eyed astonishment round the entrance to the chamber, and when it faded Tony was left standing chainless in the centre of the chamber.

“I think not,” Tony continued. “Your puny chains are no match for a celestial being such as myself!”

“I never thought they would be,” Big Red said calmly, “but then if you hadn't wanted to be here then you wouldn't be, would you?”

Tony smiled.

“Agreed.”

“And the reason why you have allowed yourself to be taken here –”

“...is because we both have a common interest,” Tony finished. “But it is a common interest in an object that neither of us can have at the same time. I cannot permit you to get your hands on the ring. It is rightfully mine!”

“It is rightfully neither of ours!” Big Red barked. “It is the Almighty One alone who should have the ring. But he does not. Even as we speak, I have legions of my finest trolls hunting down and bringing that pathetic human child to me. The ring shall be mine!”

“Over my dead body,” Tony snapped.

The cruellest of cruel smiles returned to Big Red's lips.

“I was hoping you'd say that. Once I have the ring, I will make that claim a certainty. And then I will reclaim my rightful place as ruler of the Underworld and the Overworld, uniting them both in a reign of terror that will bring eternal darkness to both worlds for a thousands years and more!”

“Hmm, yes, that is a nice delusion,” Tony scoffed. “I'm afraid it will never happen, though. My men will already have their hands on the ring. Your trolls are probably running for their beloved hills, too scared to come back and admit their failure to you. And then, when I finally get the ring, you shall see the true meaning of absolute power and I will return to my former home in the City of High Clouds to take my rightful place as the king of gods!”

As the two mighty beings squared off and continued their tirades at each other, David felt a hand on his shoulder and was pulled back into the darkness of the corridor. Flik-Flak and the others looked scared out of their minds.

“Is your bracelet what they keep talking about?” Flik-Flak whispered, glancing down at the bracelet, gleaming despite the lack of light, on David's wrist.

As much as he was loathe to admit it, there was little doubt in David's mind that this was the case. Everything he had learned about the bracelet, every thought he had ever had concerning it, and everything he had just heard, all pointed conclusively to what he now knew beyond all doubt to be the truth. His bracelet was no bracelet. It was a ring. And it was a ring that had once belonged to the Almighty One, the guardian and protector of all worlds and all people, and which should rightfully still belong to him. But it wasn't just any ring, either. It wasthe ring. The ring that could give its wearer ultimate power to do the things that only gods could do. It was the ring that made the Almighty One the Almighty One. It was the ring to end all rings. And it was on David's wrist!

The enormity of it all hit home like a sledgehammer.

Dazed and confused by the burden he felt suddenly thrust onto his slender shoulders, David looked up at Flik-Flak and couldn't do anything other than his nod his head slowly in answer to his question. The ring that the two mightiest and scariest beings in the Underworld were arguing over was indeed his bracelet. If there had been even the faintest trace of hope that it had once belonged to David's real father, then that hope was now well and truly extinguished for good.

Judging by the look on Flik-Flak's face, he too seemed to be fully aware of the significance of the bracelet.

“I think we should double-back and try and find Eric and the others some other way,” he croaked quietly, his throat drying up with the stress of the whole situation. “If either of those two spot us hanging around out here, then we – and you in particular, David – are going to be in awful trouble. More than that, though, I don't think we can afford for either of those two crazed power-mongers to get their hands on the bracelet, or the ring, or whatever you want to call it. If that happens then everything we've come to love about our world will be lost. Let's get out of here right now. Come on!”

Just as Flik-Flak bent down and grabbed the extinguished torch to lead them all to somewhere a little safer, a name they all recognised was spoken by both Big Red and Tony at exactly the same instant. Eric.

David crept back up to the entrance and peered once more into the chamber. Big Red and Tony were standing in silence as a dishevelled elf was dragged into the chamber through a side entrance by three troll guards and dumped unceremoniously onto the middle of the floor. David gasped. It really was Eric!

Meantime, close by, three cloaked figures were rapidly approaching the black gates at the entrance to the Gulag. The two guards spotted them crossing the bridge and raised their clubs threateningly.

“Stop!” one of the guards shouted, as the three figures stepped off the bridge and walked towards them. “Who you?”

The three figures were rather mismatched in height but the smallest of them stopped the other two and strode confidently onwards. The guards glanced at each other and exchanged a look of surprise at the impudence of the tiny person. And what was it with all that patchy hair all over his face and hands?

“Aye, aye, afternoon, lads,” Pigkiller said, flashing the bemused guards a sharp- toothed smile. “We're trolls that are reporting for our first shift as guards today. Any chance of letting us in, like?”

The looks of surprise that the guards had exchanged made way for looks of puzzlement. More new guards? No one had told them to expect any new guards today. And especially not guards who were below the minimum height requirement for the job and who looked like the strangest trolls they had ever seen in their entire lives.

“You guards?” both trolls asked simultaneously.

“Aye, we've just come down from the ...” Pigkiller glanced over his shoulder at the taller of the two figures waiting by the bridge.

“The Dung-Bung Hills,” Josef reminded him, trying to keep his voice down.

Pigkiller nodded and turned back to face the guards.

“Aye, we've just come down from the Dung-Bung Hills today and we've been offered jobs as guards in here, like.”

“You no look like guards to me,” one of the trolls muttered, lowering his club slightly. “Whereabouts you live in Dung-Bung Hills?”

Pigkiller pretended not to hear the question.

“Aye, so you going to let us in or are we just going to stand out here like a bunch of farking eejits for the rest of the day, like?” The guards hesitated for a reply and Pigkiller seized the opportunity. “Aye, on you come, lads,” he shouted, waving for Josef and Chuckles to follow him as he walked brazenly between the two statue-like guards.

“Me-me-me ...” one of the guards stammered, realising they had lost control of the situation. “Me-me-me ...”

Pigkiller glanced over his shoulder at the struggling troll and rolled his eyes contemptuously.

“Aye, there's no "me‟ in "team‟, pal,” he said, shaking his head. “We're all on the same side here, you know. Just you both get back to whatever you're supposed to be doing and let us real trolls get to our new jobs, like. I should probably report you to Big Red for your incompetence but I think I'll let you off just this once, like.”

Pigkiller fixed the two troll giants with his most fearsome glare, then trotted after Josef and Chuckles as they hurried past him and pushed open the heavy gates. As the three impostors slipped inside the gate into the Gulag, Pigkiller looked back at the motionless guards and winked cheekily at them.

“Aye, catch you later, ladies,” he said, grinning. “You couple of numpties!”

With that, Pigkiller slammed the gate shut, bolting it securely into place so that the guards couldn't come after them when the penny finally dropped and they realised they had just been had.

Josef screwed up his face as he tugged the glued-on hairs from his face and let them fall to the rocky ground.

“Ooh, this stuff is just awful,” he complained. “I can't believe you talked me into putting this on to disguise ourselves as trolls, let alone convincing me to come back into this wretched place to rescue Eric. I must be going quite mad in my old age.”

Pigkiller stroked the hair on his head with pride and scoffed at Josef's remark.

“Aye, well, there's no way me and Chuckles were going to leave Eric in here,” he said. “Besides, me and Chuckles are the only people you know not trapped down in that farking Bottomless Pit, and since we're the only friends you've got, it looks like you didn't really have anywhere else to go but to come with us, like.”

Josef pulled off the last of the fake hair from his face and rubbed the raw patch it had left on his cheek as he contemplated the little pygmy's thinking. To be fair, Pigkiller had a point.

“That's true, I suppose,” he muttered unhappily. “So what now, then?”

With a mischievous smile on his face, Pigkiller pointed emphatically towards the dark fortress at the base of the towering mountain of rocks in the distance.

“Aye, now we go and pay a visit to Big Red,” he answered, as he pulled off his cloak and gleefully grabbed a pair of new daggers from his belt. “That's where I heard them guards say they'd take Eric. Time for that red kahoona to get what's coming to him. Follow me, lads. Time for battle!”

Across the bridge, on the opposite side from the Gulag, a black-cloaked being pondered his next move. The trail he had been following had led him unerringly to the darkest place in the Underworld and the realm of its most sinister citizen. All of the major players seemed to have been drawn here too. The human child and the gold bracelet he carried were undoubtedly inside and foolishly heading into the hands of those to whom it did not belong.

Scratching his head with a black-gloved hand as he mulled over his options, he finally realised that it was up to him to see that the bracelet ended up with its rightful owner. There was no time to get reinforcements. Not that he really wanted or needed any. He was more than powerful enough to take it for himself.

The Watcher made up his mind, eased himself out of the shadows, and marched towards the bridge leading to the entrance to the Gulag.

Chapter Twenty Two - Eeny, Meeny, Miny ... Doh!

2010-02-12T22:31:00.003Z

He could hear them following. The sounds of their grunts and curses were carrying up the tunnel almost as though they were little more than a few feet behind him. He sincerely hoped that they weren't that close, though. He had glanced backwards a few times but, what with his dodgy eyes, he couldn't make out anything other than the blackness of the tunnel. Not that he could make out anything more than that from looking straight ahead. He could barely make out the back of Josef's head as it bobbed along behind Pigkiller and Chuckles.

It felt to Eric like they had been walking forever along this tunnel as it rose steadily upwards away from the cave in the Bottomless Pit, and there just didn't seem to be any sign of the cavern that it was supposed to come out into. Well, at least not any sign that he could see, which wasn't very much admittedly. Pigkiller seemed optimistic as ever, though, and was cheerily humming the words to a song that Eric thought sounded awfully like that old Overworld classic, 'There may be trouble ahead’. As far as Eric was concerned, he didn't know what lay ahead but he knew exactly what lay behind. To make matters worse, it was beginning to sound like the trolls were getting just that little bit closer with every passing moment.

“Any chance of picking the pace up a little bit, fellas?” Eric said. “I‟m beginning to get a bit of a draught back here from the those darn trolls breathing down my neck!”

“Aye, we're going as fast as we can up here, like,” Pigkiller shouted back, not caring if the trolls heard him or not. “We're not all blessed with lanky long legs like you, you know. Besides, the passageway is beginning to narrow up ahead and it's going to make things a little worse for us, like.”

Frack. Eric glanced pensively over his shoulder. He was sure he could see the ugly faces of the chasing trolls leering out at him from the darkness but after staring a little harder it just turned out to be his imagination playing tricks on him. Again. If only his eyes were as good as they used to be back in the old days then he wouldn't be getting so paranoid about nothing.

“Aye, speaking of your long legs, like, Eric, you'd better started ducking 'cos the tunnel's just got a bit smaller for you.”

Eric looked round again and was forced to duck down sharply as the roof of the tunnel suddenly nose-dived until it was at little more than a dwarf's height. Josef hadn't been so fortunate, however, and was rubbing his head with a grievance as he walked with a pronounced stoop just ahead of Eric.

The tunnel suddenly began to rise much more steeply than before and soon the four fugitives were all struggling for breath as the climb and the lack of clean air started to take its toll on their already tired and weakened bodies. The grunts of the trolls were really becoming too loud for Eric's liking, too.

“Is it much further, Chuckles?” he asked, a hint of desperation evident in his voice.

“Huh?”

“Are we almost there? Please, tell me we are!”

Chuckles hadn't even the faintest idea but, like before, he pretended that he knew.

“Hmm, a little bit further yet,” he grumbled, not feeling as guilty with that lie as he had done about the whereabouts of the tunnel.

“Well, let me know when we're just about there,” Eric pleaded, wincing as his head scraped along the low tunnel roof. “It's murder back here!”

But if it was murder for Eric then it was ten times worse for the trolls. Being the muscle-bound meatheads that they were, they weren't exactly ideally suited for travelling through narrowing tunnels originally constructed by dwarves. Their pursuit gradually ground to a halt as one by one they all got stuck in the drastically shortened tunnel, howling in outrage as the fugitives got away from them. Eric was the first to notice their fury and, despite his bruised head, smiled at the dwarves' ingenuity at making such low tunnels. No wonder they hadn't been caught! And it got even better when, just as with his guess at which cave the tunnel began from, Chuckles got lucky again and they suddenly spilled out into the huge cavern that his ancestors had discovered centuries earlier.

“Aye, we've made it!” Pigkiller shouted victoriously, his voice echoing around the vast cavern. “It's ... it's big, innit?” he said, more softly this time. “And the walls are like lu ... lumining ... loomingining ... like really bright, aren't they?”

The walls were indeed shining brightly and bathing the whole cavern in their yellowy glow.

“Wow!” Eric muttered, looking around. “I bet the ancient dwarves must have been astounded to find such a place down here, eh, Chuckles?”

Chuckles smiled awkwardly.

“Oh, um, yes, that's right,” he muttered, avoiding eye contact with the elf – he was buggered if he could remember!

Josef wandered into the middle of the cavern and spun around with his arms held out. He chuckled to himself and looked back at the others with a broad smile on his face.

“I haven't seen any kind of light other than that fire at the bottom of the pit in centuries,” he explained. “You've no idea what joy fills my heart at this moment in time.”

Pigkiller rolled his eyes.

“Aye, whatever, like,” he said, shaking his head. “Right, lads, time to pick one of these four tunnels leading out of here. Let's go have a look-see, shall we?”

The tunnels, four of them, were at the far end of the cavern but as they drew nearer they were dismayed to find there was no clear sign as to which one was the one that would take them back to the surface.

“Any idea, Chuckles?” Eric asked.

All eyes turned on the stocky dwarf. Chuckles was focussing hard on his feet and hoping that no one would notice if he just kept quiet. Surprisingly, it worked.

“I'll take that as a no then,” Eric said. “Any thoughts, Josef?”

“Hmm, no.”

“Okay. Pigkiller?”

The little pygmy felt around the edges of one of the tunnels then looked up at Eric.

“Aye, well, I'd have to say no, like.”

Eric grimaced slightly and took a closer look at the each of the four tunnels in turn. He was no expert but to him it looked like they were just about identical. Unfortunately, it seemed that only one would take them where they wanted to go.

“Hmm, this is a bit of a dilemma, isn't it?” Eric said, scratching his head.

They all stood in silence for a while as they each contemplated which of the tunnels looked most likely. Pigkiller was the first to make a suggestion.

“Aye, well, since there's like four tunnels and there's four of us I reckon we should each pick a tunnel and take our chances, like.”

“But what if I wanted to pick the same tunnel as you but couldn't 'cos you got first pick?” Josef complained. “I'd be furious if I got lost in another tunnel and somehow found out that the one you had chosen, which I wanted, was the one that led to safety.”

“Aye, and how would you find out if I had picked the right one, like?” Pigkiller said, eying him suspiciously. “Have you got some wee helpers somewhere that would be following me, or are you psychic? Hang on, if you were psychic you'd know which tunnel it was and then try and fool me into picking the tunnel I thought you wanted and then go and have the right tunnel all to yourself. I see what you're up to, mister! Don't think I haven't sussed you out, like!”

Josef was dumbstruck.

“I-I-I ...”

“Aye, right,” Pigkiller said, leering at him threateningly. “I've got your number, buddy.”

“But I'm not psychic,” Josef mumbled. “Honestly, I'm not.”

“I think,” Eric began, breaking the tension between Pigkiller and Josef, “that each of us going alone down one of the tunnels is not a good idea. We've got this far by working as a team and I think we should see this thing through to the end by working as a team. Besides, I wouldn't want to leave any of my friends behind in this place, and I'd hope you'd feel the same way.”

“Aye, I suppose you're right,” Pigkiller conceded. “I wouldn't really want to not see any of you guys again. Even you, Jo-Jo, despite your wily ways.”

Josef was about to protest his innocence again but Eric cut him off before he could begin.

“Right, well, we're kind of back at square one, but if we're all agreed that we shouldn't split up then that means we're going to have to pick a tunnel and all just go for it down the same one,” he said. “Are you sure there's nothing else in your memory about the legend that can tell us which tunnel we should take, Chuckles?”

Silence.

“Chuckles?”

“Uh-huh?”

The dwarf had resorted to falling back into his usual habit of pretending to ignore everyone to concentrate on something else. Trouble was, this time he didn't have his warhammer to be concentrating on.

Suddenly there was an almighty crashing sound and a cloud of dust shot out of the tunnel from which they had climbed into the cavern. They all spun round and were horrified to find a troll lying dazed and groggy on the cavern floor.

“You okay, Deano?” came a shout from further down the tunnel.

The dazed troll groaned slightly and tried to sit up but fell back onto the ground. Eric looked at Chuckles with real panic in his eyes.

“Chuckles?!”

The stocky dwarf silently said a prayer to the Almighty One and the dwarf god of luck, Stumpy Stumpson, and pointed at the tunnel furthest to the left. As Pigkiller dived into the tunnel, closely followed by Josef and Eric, Chuckles hoped that he hadn't ridden his luck too far, running out of it just when they needed it most. Time would tell. If only it could tell him when he really needed it, though.

Eric was beginning to get the feeling that they had taken the wrong route. They had made so many twists and turns along the tunnel that he had a nasty suspicion that they were just going round and round in circles. Add in the fact that they seemed to be spending more time going down than going up and all in all it wasn't looking so great. The only plus was that at least they could see that they weren't getting anywhere as the tunnel walls seemed to have the same glowing properties as the cavern they had left behind.

“Anyone else getting worried?” Eric asked, breaking the awful silence that had descended on the quartet.

“Aye, a little, like,” Pigkiller answered, glancing back over his shoulder as he led the way. “I'd have thought we'd be going a bit more up the way, like. Any idea how long we're been walking for?”

“I think we've been going for a couple of hours,” Josef replied. “It's kind of hard to tell in all honesty, though. I must admit, I am feeling a little famished too.”

There was a general murmur of agreement on that point. They were all a little hungry and in need of restoring some of their energy reserves. The only trouble was that there was no food and they didn't really want to stop anyway as there was always the threat of the trolls still chasing after them, although they hadn't heard any sounds of pursuit since entering the tunnel.

They trudged on in silence for a little while further until the tunnel suddenly started to rise sharply.

“Aye, this looks more like it,” Pigkiller said chirpily. “The tunnel seems to lead upwards from here.”

That was a relief to everyone's ears. Chuckles, in particular, was especially relieved.

“Told you this was the right one,” he muttered, trying to sound a little hard done by that anyone had any doubts that he had chosen the right one.

Up and up they climbed as the tunnel rose more and more steeply in front of them. Just as their legs started to give up with all the effort, the tunnel suddenly levelled out and they found themselves standing in front of a closed iron door. Fortunately, the key for the door was in the lock.

“That's a stroke of luck, eh?” Eric said, grinning. “We'd have been right done for if that key wasn't there.”

Eric tried to turn the key in the lock but found it was too stiff to turn fully.

“Having trouble there?” Josef asked.

“Nah, I've got it,” Eric muttered, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth in concentration.

Blocking the others view, he turned the key as hard as he could and suddenly found half a broken key in his hand. The rest of the key was jammed firmly in the lock.

“Frack,” Eric muttered under his breath.

“Aye, have you got it open yet?” Pigkiller asked impatiently.

Not knowing quite what to tell his friends, Eric stood frozen to the spot with his heart sinking deeper and deeper into his stomach. Frack, frack, frack, frack, frack! He couldn't believe they had come so far only to be undone by a dodgy key and a little over-enthusiasm on his part. Frack again. Gripping the broken key tightly in his hand, Eric slowly turned round to face the others and admit the truth.

“I-I-I've ...” he stammered, leaning back against the iron door for support.

As his full weight fell onto the iron door, the ancient rusted hinges on the frame gave way and the door and Eric tumbled backwards.

Half-winded by the unexpected collapse of the door, Eric closed his eyes in pain for a moment then opened them to find that Pigkiller was standing over him with a huge smile on his face.

“Aye, great work, Eric!” he beamed, helping the bemused elf to his feet. “You've saved us all!”

Not having the faintest clue what Pigkiller was jabbering on about, Eric got up and looked around to see where they had ended up. The corridor they were standing in was shrouded in darkness but just a short distance ahead of them was a beam of light filtering down from a large circular hole in the ceiling. Josef was standing underneath the light looking up through the hole with a wide grin on his face.

“It's a miracle,” he said, his voice bubbling with emotion. “I haven't seen proper sunlight in an eternity, you know. It looks like we've only another few metres to climb up and then we're out. I can't believe we've actually managed to find the way out!”

“You and me both,” Chuckles muttered, standing next to Josef.

Pigkiller patted Eric on the back of his leg.

“Aye, well done, mate,” he said gratefully. “And you and all, Chuckles.” He paused for a moment. “And you too, Jo-Jo. I never had any doubts for a moment that we would make it, like.”

Running ahead to the hole, he looked up and then looked back at Eric.

“Get over here, and give me a boost up into the hole and then I'll help Chuckles up next, okay?”

Eric stood underneath the hole and let Pigkiller clamber up his body until, standing on his shoulders, he reached up and pulled himself into the hole. Perched precariously on a slight step inside the hole, Pigkiller reached a hand downward and waved for Chuckles to come up next. With the help of Josef, Eric heaved the stocky dwarf into the air and pushed him into the hole alongside Pigkiller.

“I can manage myself,” Josef said, stretching his wings as Eric turned towards him.

The fairy flapped his wings and rose gracefully into the hole, where he hovered in-between Pigkiller and Chuckles for a moment before the lure of feeling the warmth of the sun on his face for the first time in an age proved too strong and he continued upwards.

“Aye, give us your hand, Eric,” Pigkiller said, stretching his short arm towards his friend.

But even reaching up on his tiptoes, Eric couldn't quite stretch his arms up far enough to even touch Pigkiller's fingertips. He tried jumping up but his legs were so heavy after being drained from all the effort spent negotiating the tunnel that, even then, he was still some way short of the little pygmy's grasp.

“I can't make it,” Eric said flatly. A thought suddenly occurred to him. “Hang on, I think I can wedge that iron door at an angle against the wall here and that'll give me an extra foot or so to grab hold of your arm. I'll be back in a tick.”

“Aye, good idea,” Pigkiller said, as Eric started back down the corridor. “I'll just hang around until you get back,” he added, dangling upside down from the hole with Chuckles holding his feet.

Eric glanced back over his shoulder and chuckled at the sight of the little pygmy casually hanging upside down from the hole with his arms crossed, nonchalantly whistling a chirpy tune.

Reaching the iron door again, Eric bent down and squeezed his fingers underneath, trying to get a good grip. Reasonably satisfied, he put his head down and, with all his might, tried to lift the door. The muscles in his arms screamed in agony as the door refused to budge from its resting place on the ground and no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't get it to raise up even an inch. With a little difficulty, he pulled his fingers out and went round to the other end to see if he could push the door back down the corridor any more easily than he could lift it.

“Darn it,” Eric muttered, as again the door refused to budge despite his best efforts. This was hopeless! “I'm just going to go a bit further back down the tunnel to see if I can find something else to use,” he shouted, rising to his feet and brushing the dirt from his hands.

“Aye, fair enough, mate,” Pigkiller shouted back. “Don't be long, though!”

With a rueful look at the iron door, Eric turned and wandered back through into the tunnel beyond. He had a vague recollection of seeing a fairly large rock embedded in the wall of the tunnel not too far back, which he reckoned he could probably shake loose and carry back to do the job if there wasn't anything else coming to hand. As he ambled down the steeply dipping tunnel, he spotted the stone in question and promptly set to work trying to wiggle it free from its confines. After only a few quick wiggles, he felt the earth around the stone weaken and it duly fell onto the ground. Landing on a down slope, though, the stone started to tumble down the tunnel until coming to a thudding halt at the section where it levelled out.

“Typical of my luck these last few days,” Eric muttered, trudging quickly down the tunnel after the stone. “At this rate, I'll be back in the pit before I know it.”

Just as Eric reached the stone and bent down to pick it up, he suddenly heard a grunt of surprise. Still bending over, Eric quickly glanced up and then screamed in shock at what he saw. Little more than a few yards from him were three of the trolls that had been chasing him and the others.

“It one of them. Grab elf!”

Terrified, Eric turned to run but his trail leg caught on the very stone he had come for, sending him flat onto his face. As he tried to push himself up again, one of the trolls reached him and battered him over the head with his club, knocking him out cold.

“Others must be close. Let's get them now!”

The trolls roared triumphantly and charged up the tunnel, dragging the unconscious Eric along with them.

Up ahead, Pigkiller heard the thundering footsteps coming up the tunnel and glanced anxiously up at Chuckles.

“Aye, I think Eric's run into trouble, like,” he said quickly. “Get ready to leg it, Chuckles.”

Pigkiller waited to see what was coming up the tunnel but when the grunts and roars of the trolls became clearer, he quickly signalled Chuckles and the dwarf pulled him up.

“Aye, I don't like leaving Eric behind but I don't think I can take all them trolls by myself without my daggers. As soon as we're out of here, we'll come back and get him out again, like. Until then ... RUN!”

With the sounds of the trolls rapidly approaching, the two friends followed Josef's example and scrambled up the hole towards the sunlight as fast as their legs could carry them.

Below them, the trolls reached the streaming sunlight coming through the hole and stopped abruptly.

“Bah! Sunlight! Hate sunlight!”

The trolls backed away from the hole in fear of the strong sunlight, the like of which they were unaccustomed to after years of guarding the workers in the pit, and roared a barrage of curses up the tunnel at the fleeing friends. As their roars died down, they all looked down at the unconscious elf lying in a crumpled heap on the ground. They may have failed to catch all the escapees but at least now they wouldn't go back to Big Red empty-handed. And they wouldn't like to be in Eric's shoes when Big Red hears about how he tried to escape.

Chapter Twenty One - Hide and Seek

2010-02-12T22:31:00.002Z

It was quite simply an amazing spectacle. Plate upon plate of food had been piled high into the air on the table, almost reaching as high as the roof of the café. The two dwarf waiters had worked overtime to bring trolley after trolley of cakes to their table to satisfy the hunger of the biggest appetite in the whole of the Underworld. By the time Rodney had wiped his mouth with the back of his hand to signal he was finished (for now), the waiters had been on the point of exhaustion and rumour had it the chef had already passed out.

“Ooh, not bad, not bad,” Rodney said, licking his lips. “My compliments to the chef... when he comes round again.”

Rodney leaned back in his chair and patted his swollen belly. David had been so astonished by the greedy orc's display of eating that he had barely even touched his own food.

“You going to have that?” Rodney asked, already stretching a grubby hand across the table towards David's plate.

“Rodney!” Flik-Flak exclaimed, feeling slightly embarrassed by Rodney's poor table manners. “What have I told you about asking for people's food before it's been offered to you?”

Rodney's hand retreated slowly from David's plate as he thought about it for a moment.

“Always say please?” Rodney guessed, his hand inching forwards again. Flik-Flak folded his arms and nodded sternly. Rodney looked at David. “Please can I have your food, please,” Rodney said, his hand already wrapping round the plate and pulling it back towards him.

“Sure, go ahead,” David began, “just help –” Rodney tipped the food into his mouth in one go. “ – yourself!”

Robbie chuckled in amusement as he licked the crumbs from his own plate before Rodney could get a chance to make off with it too. The closest thing he had ever seen to match Rodney eating was a herd of wild pigs fighting over a handful of mulch. Well, that and David's stepsister, Kim. She was something else when it came to eating, right enough.

“Well, now that we're all fed and watered, although some of us more so than others,” Flik-Flak said, casting a disapproving glance in Rodney's direction, “it's time we thought about the matter at hand. Eric, Pigkiller and Chuckles are in dreadful trouble in a horrible place. Now that we've found you” – Flik-Flak smiled at David – “we need to find a way to get our friends out of the Gulag and prove their innocence.”

Robbie shook his head.

“Easier said than done,” he muttered. “No offence or anything, Mr. Flak, but I think that the idea of breaking your friends out of the Gulag is just plain nuts.”

Rodney's eyes lit up and he licked his lips. Nuts were one of his favourite foods (that and every other food in the whole world, of course).

“I appreciate your scepticism, Robbie,” Flik-Flak said, “but the simple fact is that there has been a major miscarriage of justice and they should never have been punished in such fashion. And they are, as you rightly point out, my friends. I would never be able to forgive myself if I did not do everything I could to save them from their doom. It may seem impossible, but I'm willing to try to make it possible nonetheless.”

As Flik-Flak and Robbie debated whether or not to try to make an attempt to rescue Eric and the others, David couldn't help but feel partly responsible for everyone getting into the trouble they were in. If he hadn't been kidnapped, then none of this would ever have happened. Mind you, to be honest, it wasn't exactly his fault he had been kidnapped in the first place. Still, that one mistake aside, he liked Eric. Even in the short time he had known him, there was no doubt that Eric had been more of a friend to him than just about anyone else ever had (bar Robbie, of course). The Gulag had looked like just about the most awful place in the entire universe when he had looked down on it from the stairwell leading up to Robbie's flat, but if Eric was indeed in there then they just had to do something to get him and his two friends out of there. And quickly. It may have seemed an impossible thing to do to Robbie, but he was forgetting one thing that they had in their favour – the magic bracelet.

“I think we can do it,” David said resolutely, interrupting Flik-Flak in mid- speech.

“Have you gone mental too or something?” Robbie gasped, staring at David in disbelief. “Have you seen what happens to people in the Gulag?”

“No, but then all the more reason to rescue them,” David replied. “Besides, we've got something which can help us do it too.”

Robbie glanced at the slight bulge on David's wrist.

“You're not thinking what I think you're thinking, are you?”

David nodded emphatically. Robbie, however, pulled a face which seemed to say that he didn't think it was such a good idea but, other than that, said nothing. Flik-Flak looked a little puzzled by their brief exchange.

“Am I missing something?” he asked, glancing back and forth between David and Robbie. “What have you got exactly, my young friend?”

David glanced around the café and found it was totally empty other than themselves and the exhausted waiters slumped asleep over a table in the corner of the room. He could clearly hear the sound of the chef snoring loudly in the kitchen too. Just in case there was someone lurking within earshot, though, David leaned towards Flik-Flak and lowered his voice.

“Do you remember when you fainted a while ago?” he asked.

Flik-Flak turned a little red with embarrassment.

“I-I-I vaguely remember that,” he muttered sheepishly.

“Do you remember why you fainted?”

“Well, because ...” Flik-Flak started, then scratched his head as he tried to remember. “You know, I don't recall actually. How strange.”

“Okay, well, do you remember suddenly seeing me and Robbie appearing right in front of you from out of nowhere?” David said, trying to jog his memory. “Like, first we're not there and then we are, kind of thing?”

Flik-Flak's eyes widened.

“Yes, yes, that's right,” he said. “I saw you in the market then, when I looked again, you were gone. And then you reappeared right in front of me, just as you said.” Flik-Flak scratched his head. “But reappeared out of nowhere,” he muttered under his breath.

David started to pull his shirtsleeve up slowly.

“I know why everyone's been chasing me,” he whispered.

“Really? Why?”

“Here's why,” David said, pulling his sleeve all the way up and revealing the gold bracelet to Flik-Flak.

Flik-Flak looked closely at the wondrous object and marvelled at its magnificence.

“Ah, yes, of course, the bracelet,” he thought aloud. “Eric said that there were people wanting to find you because of it. The question is, though, why would everyone be looking for a simple bracelet, nice though it undoubtedly is?”

David decided to cut to the chase.

“It's a magic bracelet,” he whispered, looking nervously over his shoulder, still half-expecting a Hunter or a Watcher or some other crazy Underworlder to come bursting into the café. “It's what made us invisible in the market.”

Flik-Flak was stunned into silence. A messy face leaned across the table and looked down at David's bracelet.

“Sorry, I thought you said it was a Madgy Tartlet,” Rodney said, pulling away again. “I love them, I really do. Particularly the way the fruity madgy melts in your mouth!”

Flik-Flak closed his eyes for a moment while he struggled to make sense of it all. Still none the wiser, he opened them again and looked at David disbelievingly.

“A magic bracelet?”

“Yup,” David answered.

“I see,” Flik-Flak said sympathetically – the poor boy had obviously been through too much for him to handle in the last day or so. “And what, exactly, makes you think it's magic, then?”

Gripping the bracelet tightly, David closed his eyes and wished he were invisible. Instantly, before everyone's very eyes, he vanished from view.

Rodney grabbed his mug, poured some water into his mouth, then sprayed it back out immediately in delayed shock. Flik-Flak was similarly gobsmacked.

“I think you've made your point,” Robbie said, seemingly patting thin air.

David opened his eyes and released his tight grip on the bracelet. He reappeared instantaneously with a wide grin across his face.

Flik-Flak opened his mouth a fraction as though he was about to say something but then just shook his head.

“Believe me now?” David asked, covering the bracelet with his shirtsleeve once again.

“I-I-I...yes, I, um, see what you mean,” Flik-Flak answered, his voice little more than a soft whisper.

He had never seen such a thing in his life. Invisibility cloaks were sometimes a hard enough concept to grasp, but were quite commonplace amongst the semi-magical creatures of the Underworld nonetheless, but a bracelet that could do the same thing and be controlled by a mere human? Shock wasn't a strong enough word to describe what he was feeling. Come to think of it, there wasn't a word in all creation that was strong enough to cover it!

“Where did you get such a ... such a miraculous thing?” he asked finally.

“I found it in my old house,” David replied. “I used to think it had belonged to my real father but, well...I guess a lot of things have happened recently which have made me change my opinion on that one.”

“Oh, what things are these, if you don't mind me asking?”

David laughed for a moment.

“You mean apart from the fact it's magic?” he asked, as if that itself wasn't enough. “Well, I guess the fact that all these people have been chasing after me might have had something to do with it. We had to use the bracelet to hide from one person who was clearly looking for the bracelet. And then just this morning we went to see a strange lady called Krillik who deciphered the inscriptions on the bracelet. What she told us kind of ruled out the possibility of it ever having belonged to my real father.”

“Oh, I see,” Flik-Flak considered, “and what do these markings say?”

“To Fluffykinkins, Love Babs,” Robbie interjected.

“And who are they?” Flik-Flak asked, looking puzzled.

“Exactly,” David said, shrugging his shoulders. “We haven't the faintest idea.”

“Couldn't this Krillik tell you anything else about the bracelet?”

“She said the inscription was written in a celestial language, but other than that she couldn't say anything,” Robbie answered. “To tell the truth, I think she may have had other things on her mind, if you know what I mean. Isn't that right, David?”

David ignored his friend's playful remark (he still wasn't quite sure what Robbie was getting at exactly) and instead steeled himself for the unknown response he was almost certain to receive for what he had to say next.

“I have an idea of who the real owner of the bracelet might be,” he said quickly.

“Go on,” said Flik-Flak.

David suddenly wondered if he was being a little premature with bringing his idea out into the open – after all, it had only really occurred to him after he and Robbie had left Krillik's a short time ago – but he figured it was best to get someone else's opinion on it nonetheless.

“I think it may have belonged to the being you call –”

A tingling sensation in his bracelet arm immediately grabbed David's attention. He closed his eyes and gripped the bracelet tightly. An image of people screaming and running from hordes of ugly creatures brandishing clubs filled his mind. An image of the person they were looking for entered his mind and he gulped. It was him!

“There's bad people coming and they're looking for me,” David said, opening his eyes and leaping to his feet. “They're coming through the market. We've got to move quickly!”

The others quickly sprang out of their chairs in the blink of an eye (with the exception of Rodney, who took about five blinks and the aid of Robbie to get out of his chair) and rushed after David as he ran out of the café and into the market once more. Outside, mass panic was running like wildfire all around them.

“Run! Run for your lives!” shouted a fleeing leprechaun as David and the others piled out into the melee. “You'd be mad to stay here, so you would! Them trolls will skin you alive as soon as look at you!”

David glanced back in the direction the little man had run from and saw dozens of dark figures rampaging through the market in the distance. They were smashing stalls out of their way and frightening everyone in their hunt for David.

“Run! Run for the hills!” screamed a terrified gnome, waving his arms frantically to encourage others to flee.

“But they're coming from the hills!” came a shout in reply. “Run away from the hills, everyone!”

Robbie shook his head and muttered a curse under his breath.

“Frack! I'm getting right tired of all this farking running about,” he said, more loudly.

Just then, close by, a bedraggled black-dressed fairy fluttered out at great speed from behind a row of stalls dragging a bemused-looking troll behind her.

“Ain't that Tracy and Peter?” Rodney muttered, spotting the unlikely duo. “Yeah, it is Tracy and Peter! Hey, over here, you two!”

Tracy and Peter heard Rodney shouting across the crowd and swerved across the market towards them. They both looked mightily relieved to see some friendly faces.

“Oh, you've no idea what we've been through since we last saw you,” Tracy said, hugging Rodney as though he had just saved her life. “It's been such an ordeal.”

Rodney pushed Tracy away with Chuckles' warhammer and exchanged a confused look with Flik-Flak.

“Now's probably not the time to talk about it,” Peter said, glancing over his shoulder at the advancing trolls. “Ooh, they give my kind a bad name, they really do. Ugly brutes that lot. They should take more care of their appearance like me and maybe go and get a haircut or a manicure or something...”

Peter stopped himself in mid-sentence and stared off into the distance over David's shoulder. His face started to fall slightly. David spun round and looked where Peter was looking. He wasn't sure but it looked awfully like a bank of fog was lurking on the edge of the horizon. Uh-oh. Not the Hunters as well, surely?

“I think it's just got worse,” he said, beginning to panic. “Hunters!”

Robbie yelped in dismay and backed into Rodney in fear. Being the old, wise head that he was, Flik-Flak kept his cool and took charge of the situation.

“Stay calm, everyone. There's a safe passage through the market just over there, which doesn't get too close to either the trolls or the Hunters. Just follow me. Quickly now!”

Happily obliging, everyone followed quickly behind Flik-Flak as he cut a path through the market and the fleeing, screaming crowds.

“Hurry, Flik-Flak,” Rodney said, glancing at the advancing trolls. “They're gaining!”

Flik-Flak hurried on even more quickly than before and started weaving in- between several stalls, trying to find a route that would lead them to safety. Suddenly, however, he came to an abrupt stop.

“Oh no!” he gasped.

Further up ahead, and stalking through the fleeing crowds towards them, was the black-cloaked menacing figure of a Watcher. Sensing that he may have a need to make use of the bracelet yet again, David quickly pulled up his shirtsleeve. The sound of the trolls battering their way through the stalls was rapidly getting louder and louder, and the fog, which had seemed so far away only a moment before, was now a good deal closer too.

“Hold onto me,” David said, gripping his bracelet. “All of you. Quickly!”

As the trolls stormed towards them, and as the fog began to engulf the stalls nearest them, and as the Watcher bore down on them, they all did as David told them and clung onto him for dear life. David closed his eyes and quickly wished that no one would find them and that they would escape to safety. Just as they vanished from view, the fog engulfed them.

“Where they go?”

Silence followed, then a grunted reply.

“I dunno. Me thought you had them.”

The thick fog swirled slowly around the market, making it impossible for anything to be seen. Except by the Hunters.

“Where did these pesky trolls come from?” the leader of the Hunters whispered to his men. “They are getting in our way, preventing us finding the boy!”

“And there is a Watcher here too, sir,” one of his men added.

The leader of the Hunters muttered an oath under his breath.

“I thought they said they would stay out of our way,” he whispered harshly. “Master Viola promised there would be no intrusion from his men while we hunted.”

A troll groped aimlessly about in the fog little more than three feet away from the Hunter, never for one second even realising how close he was to the twisted elf. The other trolls were equally lost and were wandering aimlessly about in the impenetrable fog like blind men. However, the Watcher seemed to know exactly where he was going and crept slowly up on the Hunters.

“Why are you here?” Laertes snarled. “You're perverting the course of justice. Leave now and take this useless fog with you!”

The leader of the Hunters raised his longbow and aimed an arrow directly at Laertes' head.

“We are doing what your Master Viola has paid us to do,” he snapped back, bristling with indignation at Laertes' mocking of their fog. “It is you are perverting the course of justice. Begone, foul Watcher!”

In a whirl of black cloak, Laertes easily disarmed the Hunter and snapped the longbow in half across his knee.

“Be careful what you say, elf,” he rasped. “Answer me one question and your longbow will be all that I shall break – why has Master Viola hired the likes of you?”

The unarmed Hunter slowly backed away, seeking the protection of his kin.

“Don't you know?”

“Know what?” Laertes snapped.

“He hired us to track down and bring back the human child to him. We had him just now until you showed up and ruined it all.”

Laertes lashed out in fury and knocked the Hunter clean off his feet sending him crashing to the ground in a heap.

“I have ruined nothing,” he growled. “Leave now before I lose my temper completely and destroy you all!”

The Hunter scrambled to his feet, retrieved his broken longbow from the ground, and waved his men away as he heeded Laertes' warning and left the demented Watcher to it. As the fog dispersed, a dozen trolls suddenly found themselves dotted all around the market with a Watcher in their midst. There was no sign of the boy...

“Who you?” a bold troll demanded, waving his club in Laertes' direction.

Laertes shook his head in frustration and quickly relieved the troll of his thuggish weapon. The other trolls roared in fury and charged to their comrade's aid. A moment later and all twelve trolls were unarmed and lying on the ground rubbing their bruised jaws.

“Big Red make you pay for this,” one troll muttered.

Laertes grabbed the poor troll and pulled him close.

“Big Red? What's he got to do with anything?”

“He-he... he want the boy. He want boy's bracelet.”

Laertes smiled malevolently beneath his hood.

“And why would he be wanting the bracelet?” he barked, showering the unfortunate troll with foul-smelling spittle. “What does he know about it?”

The troll shrugged his shoulders.

“Me no know. Me just do as me told. Me just try to earn bonus for this month.”

Wrapping his thin black-gloved fingers more tightly around the troll's throat, Laertes drew him even closer. The troll gagged violently, as much from Laertes' death breath as the constriction around his throat, and looked desperately over his shoulder at his comrades. None of them were in any condition to help.

“So Big Red just sent you idiots to find the boy without telling you what you were dealing with,” he hissed. “You have no idea what you're dealing with, do you? What else has Big Red been doing?”

“He-he-he order Tony to be arrested and taken for sentencing,” the troll said, beginning to lose consciousness. “More trolls... go to... to catch T-T-Tony...”

The troll duly passed out in Laertes' hands. Without thinking, Laertes released his grip and dropped the slumped body to the ground. His mind was too busy with other more pressing thoughts. His duty to Tony compelled him to warn him of the impending danger heading his way, but now the game had just gotten more interesting and this made him hesitate slightly. If Big Red was after the bracelet too, then why not let Big Red occupy himself in dealing with Tony and allow him, Laertes, to grab the boy, the bracelet, and all the power it brings for himself. He was more powerful than most ordinary beings as it was, but with the power of the bracelet at his disposal then he could rule the Underworld. And then conquer the Overworld too!

Laertes rubbed his hands together with glee at the prospect of becoming the Supreme Being and ruler of the two worlds. Nothing would ever be able to stop him. The only thing stopping him now, however, was his inability to find the boy. Twice now he had been close without actually getting his hands on the brat. It made him wonder if maybe the boy had somehow figured out how to make use of some of the powers the bracelet held...?

“I know you can hear me, boy,” he rasped, looking all around him. “I know you can control the power of the gold on your arm. Give it to me now and I will spare you and your friends' lives!”

His offer was met with silence.

“Bah!” he snapped, slamming his fist into the palm of his hand. “Soon enough then, boy!”

Laertes took one last look around and then stormed off screaming an angry foul-mouthed tirade at the hastily departing trolls as he went.

“I think it's safe now,” Flik-Flak whispered. “The Watcher and the trolls are well out of sight.”

“If it's safe then why are you whispering,” David whispered in reply.

“Hmm, good point,” Flik-Flak muttered. “Right, well, make us visible again, please,” he said more loudly.

Duly obliging, David released his grip on the bracelet and opened his eyes.

“Phew! Close call though, eh?” Robbie said, letting go of David's arm and glancing around to double-check that the coast was indeed clear. “I tell you, this whole thing is just getting out of hand now. It's becoming a real nightmare. You couldn't even make this kind of thing up. Not unless you made it sound hopelessly contrived just for the sake of it, of course.”

“Yeah, good point,” Rodney agreed.

Despite his normally calm demeanour, even Flik-Flak was feeling more than just a little rattled by recent events.

“I fear that our young friend here has unwittingly discovered something which seems to be of great interest to some of the most menacing figures in the whole of the Underworld. Tony and Big Red are not people to be dealt with lightly. Their influence extends over our whole realm and, as we've just seen, they will stop at nothing to get what they want.”

“So what are we going to do, then?” David asked.

Truth was that Flik-Flak didn't really know. He liked the nice simple things in life, and tried to live a nice simple stress-free living, but the trouble of the last couple of days was really throwing a spanner in his lifestyle. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was perilously close to being seriously out of his depth. There was no way he could think of a solution all by himself. If only he had his whole team around him then maybe, just maybe, they'd stand a chance. But with three members of his team doomed to spend eternity in Gulag that only left him, Rodney, Tracy and Peter, and if he could have picked any three of his team to help they wouldn't have been the three. As much as he liked them, they weren't the brightest individuals and seemed to spend most of their time thinking about other more frivolous things. Not that Pigkiller and Chuckles were any better, in all honesty.

As much as he would have liked to get him into a safe house until this whole mess had been sorted out, Flik-Flak was at least grateful that David and his friend Robbie were keen to go and rescue Eric and the others from their fate. It was undoubtedly dangerous to take David into the heart of even greater danger, and risk losing him into the hands of those looking for him, but it didn't look like there was much choice. Besides, David had shown himself to have a cool head in difficult situations and with his knowledge and ability to use the power of the magic bracelet, then they all at least stood a chance of success.

“Flik-Flak?”

The goblin snapped out of his thoughts and suddenly seemed much more positive about their chances. And, more importantly, he had a plan.

“First things first,” he began, “we need to rescue Eric and the others. Agreed?”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Thank you. Now, once we've done that, although that may be easier said than done, then we need to go to the highest levels of the authorities in the land and tell them everything we've just heard about this Watcher, the trolls, the Hunters, Big Red and Tony ... and the bracelet.”

Everyone kept quiet but all eyes turned towards David.

“Do you think that's such a good idea?” David asked, ignoring the looks. “I mean, who knows how high this desire to get their hands on my bracelet goes? Who can we trust?”

“We go right to the very top,” Flik-Flak answered. “We must speak to those that have watched over us since the very beginnings of time and are untainted by the weakness and evils that surround us.”

“You don't mean the birds, do you?” Rodney asked, glancing up into the sky. “I don't like birds ... unless they've been stuffed and cooked, of course.

Flik-Flak took a deep breath, counted to five, then shook his head.

“No, Rodney, not the birds and not even the dragons, as I know you're bound to mention them too. No, I am referring to those that live in the City of Holy Clouds. The very celestial beings, in fact, whose ancient language adorns your bracelet, David. If anyone knows the truth about the bracelet then it will be them. It is clear that the significance of the bracelet is far beyond even our wildest imaginations, and would seem to be too valuable an object to be in David's possession. Are we all agreed?”

Rodney and Robbie quickly muttered their approval of Flik-Flak's assertion but there was no response from David. He wasn't so sure that the bracelet shouldn't be in his possession. After all, he had kept it perfectly safe until now, and who's to say that it wasn't meant to belong to him anyway? Besides, after all the time he had kept it safely hidden from prying eyes, and all those times he had held the bracelet to draw comfort from it, he kind of felt that the bracelet was perfectly happy staying with him. And if push came to shove and David was told that he had to go back to live under his stepfather's roof once more, then he planned to use the bracelet to run away and live elsewhere in the Underworld where no one could say otherwise. But Flik-Flak did have a point, though – if his theory was right and the bracelet did indeed belong to the Almighty One, then it may be best for everyone if it was returned to its rightful owner. With all these awful people running around willing to do anything to get their hands on the power contained within, then perhaps only the Almighty One alone could use the power properly and bring it all to a happy end. Still, at least for now, it was his bracelet to safeguard and his alone.

“David?”

“Yes?” David replied.

“Are you in agreement?” Flik-Flak repeated.

“I guess so,” David said softly. “Whatever you think's best.”

“I do indeed, young David,” Flik-Flak said, nodding his head. “But you shall hold onto it for a while longer, I think. It may come in very handy in our rescue attempt for our friends. All we need now is a plan to get into the Gulag, find them, and then get out again. Any ideas?”

One of Rodney's stomachs started to rumble again. Slowly, he raised a hand into the air and looked nervously at his captain.

“Please don't tell me you need food again, Rodney?” Flik-Flak asked incredulously. “You just ate something only a matter of moments ago!”

But, for once, food wasn't the reason why Rodney had raised his hand.

“I-I-I think I might actually have an idea how we can do it. It's just kind of come to me out of the blue.”

“Really?” Flik-Flak asked, slightly taken aback. “Well, go on then.”

Drawing the others round him, Rodney took centre stage and told them about his cunning plan.

Chapter Twenty - No One Here Gets Out Alive?

2010-02-12T22:31:00.001Z

“Would you like some red tea, Eric?”

Eric's eyelids felt so heavy that he didn't have the energy to open them. He didn't even have the energy to answer the question coherently.

“Huh?”

Josef took that as a yes, poured some steaming red liquid from a battered metal pot into a chipped bowl, and set it down just in front of Eric's limp and bruised hands.

“You should try to drink some of that,” Josef said, pouring some out for Pigkiller, Chuckles and Derek too. “It might not look like much, but it'll hit all the right spots inside your body and make you feel a whole lot better.”

“Huh?” Eric muttered.

Josef smiled sympathetically.

“Maybe you should give him a hand, Pigkiller,” he suggested.

Pigkiller put down his own bowl and picked up Eric's one, lifting it with both hands up to his friend's parched lips.

“Aye, open wide, mate,” he said, slowly tipping the bowl towards Eric's half-open mouth. “Just a wee mouthful for Uncle Pigkiller, eh?”

Eric's mouth slowly cracked open a little wider and Pigkiller tipped the red tea down Eric's throat in one go, spilling half of it down Eric's chin and tunic in the process. Eric's eyes opened wide almost instantaneously.

“What you trying to do?” he spluttered, spitting out a fine spray of tea over Pigkiller. “You trying to drown me or something?”

“Aye, you trying to drown me, like,” Pigkiller said grumpily, wiping the tea from his eyes. “I was just trying to do you a favour, mate. I'll no bother next time, will I?”

Josef laughed and handed both of them a couple of small scraps of cloth with which to dry themselves.

“Well, you certainly look a lot better than you did just a moment ago, Eric,” he commented, pouring a fresh bowl of red tea for Eric. “Take your time over this one, though, yes?”

Eric finished wiping his face and picked up the fresh bowl. The warmth that the bowl was giving off was very welcome in his bruised and slightly numb hands. He drank a little of the red tea and instantly felt a surge of warmth spreading around his body. Josef was right. He did feel a whole lot better now. After a hard night of carrying rocks from one side of the pit to the other, he was glad to have something else in his hands other than cold, heavy lumps of black rock. He had never been so exhausted in his life than when he had laid his head down to catch some sleep at the end of it all, but it hadn't seemed like more than a few moments before he was being woken by Josef to join Pigkiller, Chuckles and Derek for some breakfast before they had to return to work yet again. Funny thing was, though, it still felt like it was the night before rather than the morning after when he had woken up. Even looking around now, he was hard pressed to spot any differences between the two times. It really kind of felt like someone was playing a trick on him and had only let him sleep for just the briefest of moments before waking him and telling him it was time for breakfast. No wonder he had felt so awful.

“Are you sure it's the next day?” Eric asked again, taking a slice of bread from a plate offered by Josef. “I mean, how can you tell?”

“You can't really, in all honesty,” Josef replied. “The pit is so deep now that the sun hasn't been seen down here in hundreds of years and more. In fact, the pit is just so, so deep that it even has its own climate. Unfortunately, that by in large consists of those dark clouds you can see lingering overhead. It does rain quite often down here, I'd have to say. But as to how I know that this is morning... well, I'm afraid I'm just guessing really. The guards do tell us when it's morning but they have been known to lie and wake people up while it's still the middle of the night and send them back to work. I remember when I first came down here – the guards once made us do several days work in just one day just to amuse themselves. Not very nice of them really, but most of us have become wise to their tricks over the years.”

Nodding, Eric bit into his bread and immediately wished he hadn't bothered. Hard, tasteless, slightly smelling of rock, it wasn't like any bread he had ever tasted. Unfortunately, it didn't look like there was going to be anything else to eat, though.

“So how long have you been down here for, then?” Eric asked, still chewing the hard bread around in his mouth, trying to soften it a little.

“Ooh, let me think now,” Josef said, his brow furrowing in deep thought. “I must have been about one hundred and seventy-four, almost one hundred and seventy-five, when they caught me selling teeth to a jeweller on the High Street of the Animal Quarter. It's difficult to keep track of the years down here, but I have tried to keep a note of my birthdays and if I'm not mistaken then my last one was my seven hundredth and forty-second.”

Eric's mouth fell open in shock and the hard bread tumbled out of his mouth, landing with a soft thud on the ground.

“You've been here for over five hundred years?” he asked.

Josef nodded and smiled weakly.

“Give or take a decade or so,” he said, suddenly realising how long he had been down there himself. “They really do mean that you'll spend all eternity down here, you know. As much as we would all like it to be, it's not just a figure of speech or an empty threat. There's some kind of magic down here which keeps us all from getting any older. There are hundreds who have been here for even longer than I have, believe me. Some even still call me 'that new kid, Josef’, which is quite nice actually. I like it.”

Eric exchanged a look with Pigkiller, who for once seemed to be lost for words. The prospect of doing even one more day of transporting rocks aimlessly was filling Eric with dread. The thought of having to do it day after day without end was enough to make him want to kill himself. The only problem was it didn't seem possible to end it even in that way.

“There must be some way of escaping from here,” Eric whispered to Pigkiller. “I don't think I can last all eternity in here.”

Pigkiller shrugged his shoulders.

“Aye, doesn't sound like we have much of a choice though, like,” he said. “You heard what Josef said, like. Many have tried to escape, but all have failed. How are we supposed to do it if no one ever has, like?!”

Eric didn't know, but he was sure that there had to be some way of escaping. There just had to be. Maybe Josef wasn't telling them everything for a start. Maybe he had been down here for so long that he just didn't want to try to leave. After all, what kind of life would he have back in the real world now? Fairies only lived for about three hundred years on average and it would be doubtful that any of Josef's friends would still be alive now. No wonder he wouldn't want to leave – there was nothing for him to go back to! It was probably the same for a lot of other people down here too. Poor things.

Chuckles grumbled something under his breath that just about managed to attract Eric's attention.

“What was that, Chuckles?” Eric asked.

The normally silent dwarf suddenly found himself the centre of attention. Had it been any other situation he would have pretended he hadn't said anything, but this time he actually had something to say which might be important. After all, he was missing his warhammer.

“There's an old dwarf legend that talks of three brave dwarves once escaping from here,” he said, keeping his voice low.

Eric and Pigkiller moved a little closer to their stocky friend.

“How'd they manage that?” Eric whispered.

Chuckles glanced around to check that no guards were eavesdropping in on their conversation.

“According to the legend, the workers used to live in caves cut into the sides of the pit walls just a short distance above where the digging at the bottom of the pit was taking place,” Chuckles began. “After a while, when the pit started to get too far below the level of the caves, they would abandon them and cut new caves further down towards the bottom of the pit. Well, one day a group of seven dwarves decided that they had taken more than enough of working in the pit and came up with a plan to escape and return back to their home in the Blue Mountains.”

“Aye, what was their plan, like?” Pigkiller whispered impatiently.

Chuckles glanced around again to double-check that no one was listening that shouldn't have been.

“They were all living in the same cave and while everyone else was sleeping they would work all night to dig a tunnel back up towards the surface,” Chuckles continued. “It was slow going work, though, and the digging at the bottom of the pit was going faster than the speed at which they were digging. There was a real danger that they wouldn't be able to finish before they would be forced to abandon the cave and move down to a lower level and never be able to get back to the tunnel they were digging. But one night they got very lucky. 'Cos they had to dig the tunnel at an angle away from the pit, they eventually dug so far that one night they broke through into a huge cavern. Taking their chance, they all climbed into the tunnel, sealed up its entrance so that the guards wouldn't find it and chase after them, and escaped into the cavern.”

“But I thought you said only three dwarves escaped from the pit,” Eric said, looking confused. “If they all escaped into the cavern, that's seven of them.”

Chuckles nodded sadly.

“There were a number of tunnels leading out from the cavern and they didn't know which way, if any, would take them back up to the surface. Since they didn't have any food or water to take their time to check all the tunnels properly, they decided that they would have to split up, pick a tunnel and take their chances. Three of them got lucky. As for the others... well, they were never seen again.”

Eric and Pigkiller gulped in unison.

“I don't suppose you happen to know which tunnel the lucky three picked, do you?” Eric asked.

Chuckles smiled ruefully and shook his head.

“I never paid much attention in history class,” he muttered. “I was always too keen to get to metalwork class to work on making warhammers and such like.”

Pigkiller wasn't able to hide his disappointment.

“Aye, well, at least tell us you paid enough attention to know where the cave they started the tunnel from is, like?”

Chuckles laughed nervously.

“Well, not really,” he answered. “But I'm sure it‟ll come to me soon enough, though!”

Eric looked upwards towards the thick bank of cloud looming overhead. He couldn't see any sign of caves cut into the side of the pit.

“How long ago did all this happen?” he asked.

“A couple hundred of years ago, I think.”

“Hmm, the cave must be somewhere above the clouds, then,” Eric muttered. “How are we supposed to get up there?”

They all looked towards Josef, who was busy chatting to Derek, blissfully unawares.

“Aye, he's got a nice pair of wings there, doesn't he?” Pigkiller said. “Reckon he can carry me up to one of those cranes further up the pit wall so that I can send a basket down to get you two?”

“Reckon he might just have it in him, now you mention it,” Eric said, a smile starting to break out across his face.

“Uh-huh,” Chuckles muttered, almost smiling himself.

Josef broke off from talking to Derek and turned round towards the three scheming friends. The look on their faces suddenly made him feel rather nervous.

“Something I can, um, do for you, gentlemen?”

“I really don't think this is such a very good idea,” Josef said, for the umpteenth time that day. “I haven't flown properly in many years and I'm quite sure my wings aren't what they used to be.”

Pigkiller rolled his eyes and brought his tiny pickaxe down onto the rock embedded in the ground with a resounding CRACK.

“Aye, but they are still wings, though, aren't they?” he pointed out, as he wrenched the point of his axe out from the fractured rock. “I'm sure you'll remember just fine as soon as Eric gives us the all-clear signal, like.”

Josef grumbled to himself as he bent down, picked up some shards of rock and deposited them into a metal bucket nearby. Pigkiller looked over towards where Eric and Chuckles were standing, pretending to mind their own business close to the pit wall. Not far from Eric and Chuckles, Derek was loading a sack with earth.

“Aye, is it much longer until the guards change shift?” Pigkiller asked. Josef shook his head and continued to grumble to himself. Pigkiller looked over towards Eric and Chuckles again and nodded as they waved to him. Four baskets carrying the shift change for the guards had appeared from beneath the cloud cover and were being winched down to the pit floor. Eric and Chuckles dropped their tools and casually walked away towards the other side of the pit.

“Aye, get ready, Jo-Jo. Look lively, mate.”

The four baskets reached the ground and soon the sound of marching feet reverberated around the pit as the fresh guards poured out of the baskets to relieve their comrades at the end of their shift. As the arriving guards exchanged pleasantries with the departing guards, Eric gave the thumbs up to Pigkiller and hurried with Chuckles over to an empty rock basket by the side of the wall. Unnoticed by everyone, Derek dropped his sack of earth and followed after Eric and Chuckles.

“Now?” Josef asked, wishing the answer would be no.

Pigkiller dropped his pickaxe and grabbed Josef by the hand and rushed him away from the other workers to a relatively secluded area of the pit.

“Aye, now! Get those wings out and let's go, Jo-Jo!”

Josef took off his old coat and stretched out his small fairy wings as far as they would go.

“Phew! It's been a while since they've had a decent stretch, you know,” he said, the strain evident in his face.

“Aye, very nice, like,” Pigkiller muttered impatiently. “You ready to go?”

Josef bent down for the little pygmy to climb onto his back between his wings and then struggled back to his feet when Pigkiller was securely holding on. He started to flap his wings and then slowly he lifted into the air, rising ever so slightly until he was hovering a good foot from the ground. He looked down nervously and gulped.

“I think I might be scared of heights, you know,” he said.

Pigkiller gave him a light slap round the back of the head.

“Aye, pull yourself together, man. If you keep stalling like this we're all going to get rumbled, like.”

Josef glanced over his shoulder and was met with a look of grim determination on the little pygmy's face. He didn't think it would do him any good to argue the point any further.

“Very well then,” he muttered.

Josef's wings flapped faster and faster until suddenly, like something out of a cartoon, he seemed to let off the brake and quickly shot off high into the air. Pigkiller whooped quietly in delight as he held tightly onto the fairy as he raced upwards at an extraordinary speed. Looking down, Pigkiller was relieved to see that no one seemed to have noticed them. A moment later and they entered the great bank of cloud that hung over the bottom of the pit.

“I can't see a thing,” Josef complained, slowing down as they rose through the dense fog. “The Almighty One alone knows if we'll accidentally run into something in all this!”

Pigkiller patted the fairy on the head in as reassuring a manner as he could muster (which wasn't all that much in all honesty).

“Aye, just keep going, Jo-Jo. We'll be just fine and dandy, like. Trust me, I'm a pygmy.”

Josef was caught slightly off-guard by Pigkiller's last remark and it had the desired effect of making him forget what he was complaining about. After a few moments of flying up through the cloud cover, they finally broke out into clear air again.

Pigkiller ooh'd and aah'd for a moment as they quickly climbed high above the clouds, passing a pronounced step in the pit wall along which they could clearly see a row of abandoned caves dotted all the way around. Not far above this first line of caves, a rock jutted out from the pit wall on top of which sat an unmanned wooden crane.

“Aye, just over there, Jo-Jo,” Pigkiller said, pointing towards the crane. “That's just what we're needing, like.”

Josef's face was beginning to turn a nasty shade of red due to the great exertion of flying so far with Pigkiller on his back, but he still managed to nod his understanding and swooped towards the outcropping. As he landed, Pigkiller quickly clambered down from his back and hurried over to inspect the crane. His heart sank a little as his eyes ran over the multitude of wooden levers and metal gears in what he took to be the control box. This wasn't going to be easy.

“Aye, don't suppose you know anything about working this farking thing, do you?” he shouted over his shoulder.

Josef was too out of breath to answer him but he didn't have the slightest clue anyway. Never one to be stumped for too long, though, Pigkiller figured he'd take his chances and started pulling each of the levers in turn. At the pull of the fourth lever, the gears whirred into life and the rope on the end of the crane lowered down into the clouds below.

The baskets with the departing guards were beginning to fill up and the fresh guards were starting to fan out around the pit to take up their stations. Eric exchanged a nervous look with Chuckles and glanced up towards the clouds.

“Something's happened,” he said softly. “They should have found a crane by now. We're running out of time down here!”

“Yup,” Chuckles agreed.

They both looked upwards again, desperately looking out for a sign of something coming back down towards them.

“Problems with your neck, Eric, or are you looking for something in particular?”

Eric glanced down, saw who was speaking to him, and let out a soft groan. A mischievous grin spread itself all over Derek's face.

“I couldn't help but notice the rather sudden departure of my good friend Josef and your little pygmy friend,” he said, looking up into the clouds himself for a moment. “You wouldn't be trying to escape now, would you?”

“No, no, we're just trying out this new neck stretching technique that Chuckles here heard about in the tavern the other week,” Eric said quickly. “So, you just tilt your head back and hold for ten, yeah?”

“Yup,” Chuckles replied, tilting his head back and counting to ten out loud.

Derek smiled and shook his head disbelievingly.

“Come on, Eric, you can do better than that,” he said. “Besides, Josef told me all about your little plan just before we started work for the day. The poor fairy really doesn't seem able to keep a secret.”

Wishing that the withering look he was giving the delf really would wither and kill the irritating creature, Eric gritted his teeth and admitted the truth.

“Yes, it's true,” he whispered, as harshly as whispers can get. “But don't you try and get in our way 'cos otherwise I'll wallop you one!”

“Ha – you wouldn't have the guts,” Derek scoffed. “Once a coward, always a coward. But I have no intention of stopping you making this fatal mistake. Quite the contrary, in fact.”

“Eh?”

“Go right ahead, Eric,” Derek continued. “I'll bet that you'll get caught before you even get anywhere near the cave that you're looking for. In fact, I'll give you odds of five to one that you won't make it.”

“I don't like to bet anymore,” Eric said.

Derek looked puzzled.

“Don't like to bet anymore? What are you talking about? You had a bet with me only last night.”

“Yeah, well, I've changed since then. A lot's happened.”

“I bet I can make you change your mind,” Derek retorted. “I'll give you odds of ten to one.”

“No, thanks,” Eric said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Twenty to one, then.”

Eric's eyes lit up and he quickly shook Derek's hand.

“Done.”

The delf clapped his hands together and rubbed them with glee.

“You realise that if I raise the alarm now then I'll win,” he said, grinning broadly.

“You wouldn't dare,” Eric said, realising almost instantly that he would.

“Ha – watch me!”

As Derek turned and started to raise his hand into the air to attract a guard's attention, the end of a heavy rope fell from out of nowhere and whacked him on the head, knocking him out stone cold.

“Thank the Almighty One for small miracles,” Eric muttered, as he grabbed the end of the rope and tied it round the metal support bar in the middle of the rock basket. “Come on, Chuckles!”

The dwarf belied his stocky appearance and dived into the basket alongside Eric. Eric gave the rope two hard tugs and then suddenly the basket started to lift off the ground.

“What'll we do if a guard sees us?” Chuckles asked nervously.

Eric hadn't thought of that. The basket was going to be in clear view of everyone for a good few minutes before they reached the cover of the clouds.

“Just ... just act casual,” he said. “Just be natural. We're just a couple of friends going for a wee ride in a basket, okay?”

Chuckles raised an eyebrow at his friend but didn't say anything. It was as good a suggestion as any and to be honest he couldn't think of another one.

Trying to act casual in a tense situation is not always the easiest of feats to accomplish. Trying to do so when you're being hauled up in a basket pretty much in plain view of anyone who happens to glance in your direction, and with your whole life banking on not being seen, makes being casual just that little bit more difficult. Somehow, though, they seemed to be getting away with it.

Just a few feet below the safety of the clouds, Eric looked down over the edge of the basket and thought he saw a guard looking up at them. A moment later, though, they were engulfed by the clouds.

“Aye, something's coming up, Jo-Jo. See if you can find the lever which swings that crane arm over towards the shelf on the pit wall, yeah?”

Josef peered down over the edge of the precipice but saw only the dark clouds below.

“I don't see anything. Are you sure?”

Just as he glanced up towards Pigkiller, a basket with two grinning faces looking upwards emerged from the clouds.

“Aye, everything all right, lads?” Pigkiller asked, waving down at his friends.

“I think we've gotten away with it,” Eric shouted, waving back. “We had a bit of a close call at one point but it's all worked out well.”

“Aye, nice one. Just hold on for a moment while Jo-Jo swings you over here, like. Hit it, Jo-Jo!”

Josef wasn't entirely sure which lever made the arm swing towards him but didn't say anything and just blindly pulled the first one that came to hand. With a quiet sigh of relief, Josef stood back and watched as the arm swung slowly in his direction bringing Eric and Chuckles to safety.

“I can't believe we've made it,” Eric said, exchanging a congratulatory handshake with Chuckles. “Well done, Pigkiller. And you too, Josef.”

The old fairy shied away in modesty and contented himself with a satisfied smile, while Pigkiller dropped down from the crane and punched the air in delight.

“Aye, I told you it was a foolproof plan, like,” he beamed. “I never had a doubt at all that it would work. Mind you, we've still got a bit of hard work ahead of us, like.” Pigkiller looked at Chuckles and clapped his tiny hands together. “All right, Chuckles, which cave is it, then?”

The faint smile on the dwarf's face slowly faded and was replaced with a look bordering on abject misery.

“I'll, um, just need a few moments longer to remember,” he muttered, looking at each of the caves in turn.

“Aye, fair enough, like,” Pigkiller said. “Take all the time you need. No pressure, like.”

Chuckles glanced around the eager eyes watching and waiting for him to point them all in the right direction. No pressure? It certainly didn't feel like it to him. It didn't help matters any further when one by one they all folded their arms and slowly began to drum their fingers impatiently. He hated situations like this when he was the sole focus of attention. That was twice in one day it had happened now. He almost wished he had kept quiet about that old dwarf legend. But, then, if he had, he knew he'd probably never see his beloved warhammer again and –

“Hate to rush you and all, Chuckles,” Eric said, breaking the silence, “but you remember there were four baskets that had gone down to the bottom of the pit with the replacement guards. Well, I don't like to mention it, what with you trying to remember which cave we're looking for and all that, but I figured it would be remiss of me not to mention that those four sets of ropes across the other side of the pit are ... well, they're coming back up again!”

Chuckles turned round and looked across the pit with the others. Eric was right. The baskets with the departing guards were coming back up and doing so at great speed from the looks of things.

“Aye, so any idea yet?” Pigkiller asked, glancing nervously down towards the dark clouds.

In truth, Chuckles hadn't the faintest idea. Now he thought about it, he had actually fallen asleep halfway through that particular history lesson at school and had only woken when the bell rang for metalwork class. He turned back round and ran his eyes glumly over the array of caves cut into the pit walls.

“Now would be a good time, young Chuckles,” Josef said, unhelpfully. “Any time you like, of course, just so long as it's right now!”

Chuckles gulped and, blindly hoping for the best, hastily pointed at a cave next to the top of a wooden staircase which hugged the pit wall.

“It's that one up there,” he said. “Just next to the top of the Staircase of Despair, as they all called it back in the day,” he added quickly for extra effect. “How could I forget the Staircase of Despair, after all?”

He hadn't the faintest idea where all that rubbish had come from, but the others seemed to buy it quite readily, though.

“Aye, good name for a staircase that, right enough.”

“Sure looks like a Staircase of Despair, doesn't it?”

“Oh, how dreadful a thing.”

Pigkiller led the way on the charge up the fragile-looking and entirely previously unnamed staircase, while Chuckles took up the rear of the group feeling rather guilty about lying and wishing he had stayed down at the bottom of the pit. He didn't want to have to look his friends in the eye when they realised, as they soon would, that he had told a whopper of a lie in pointing them towards the first cave that grabbed his attention.

Suddenly a tremendous roar of anger erupted from not far away, sending shockwaves bouncing loudly off the pit walls. Eric looked down into the pit and saw dozens of trolls staring up at him, every single last one shaking their fists in pure hatred and rage. The four baskets had finally emerged from the cloud cover and, almost straight away, the trolls had spotted the escapees fleeing up the staircase. Fortunately for them, the baskets hadn't yet stopped and were instead continuing to climb upwards at a great speed.

“Aye, aye, ladies!” Pigkiller shouted, waving with cheeky impudence across at the seething guards, who were desperately trying to stop the baskets being hauled up so that they could give chase. “Nice morning for it, eh? See you later, ladies!”

Pigkiller laughed heartily as the trolls roared in defiance of his cheek, shaking their baskets back and forth even more violently in frustration.

“Get a move on, Pigkiller,” Eric said sharply. “They might be stuck on that side of the pit for now but eventually they'll reach the top and just come around back down on this side!”

“Aye, I hadn't really thought of that, now you mention it,” Pigkiller said, quickening his pace up the stairs. “Hurry up then, everyone!”

Reaching the top of the stairs, Pigkiller looked back down and urged the others on. Finally, out of breath and wheezing, they were all standing just outside the cave that Chuckles had pointed out a moment ago.

“They're... they're still watching us, you know,” Josef said nervously, looking up the pit.

Eric looked round and sure enough all the guards were leaning over the edge of their baskets, looking down at them in silence with whips and clubs in hand.

“Um, okay then... well, how about if we just spread out and act casual until they've gone?” Eric suggested, beginning to wander along the shelf towards the next cave, stretching his arms as he did so. “Just pretend like we're having a nice leisurely stroll or something. We can't let them see us all going into that cave together or we'll be done for.”

Everyone quickly nodded their agreement. Chuckles walked away off in the other direction, mumbling to himself about what a bad friend he was. Pigkiller sat down with his legs overhanging the pit wall and whistled a jaunty tune while smiling and waving up at the trolls. Josef stood leaning casually next to the cave, pretending to count his fingers. Casually strolling around, Eric kept glancing up the way, watching and waiting for the four baskets to vanish into the darkness further up the pit.

“Right, let's find that tunnel,” he said as soon as they'd gone. “We might not have much time before they come back down, so let's hop to it!”

Pigkiller, Josef and Eric hurried into the darkened cave to begin the search. Chuckles, however, could only shuffle in slowly behind them, trying his best to delay the inevitable.

“Aye, listen up! Everyone take a section of this back wall here and see if you can find a weak spot where the tunnel should be, like,” Pigkiller ordered, hitting the wall with his fist to emphasise what he meant.

Eric and Josef nodded their agreement and spread out along the wall. Chuckles hung his head in shame and stood quietly (more so than normal) in the gap in-between Josef and Pigkiller.

“Aye, I dinna think there's anything over here,” Pigkiller muttered, after a minute's wall-patting and prodding.

“No, no sign of anything here either,” Josef added.

“Frack,” Eric sighed. “I can't find it.”

Chuckles was as close to tears as he had ever been since having a quiet sniffle to himself when parted from his beloved warhammer after the trial. With a soft thud of shame, his head fell forward and bumped into the wall. And, luckily for him, something amazing happened.

“Aye, you've found it!” Pigkiller exclaimed. “Look at that rock fall from where his head hit the wall!”

“Huh?” Chuckles muttered, pulling his head back from where it had embedded in the wall.

Eric and Josef crowded around as Pigkiller poked at the rock underneath the indentation made by Chuckles' head and knocked several more smaller holes into the wall. The little pygmy put his ear next to one of the holes and listened for a moment, his face a picture of concentration.

“Aye, I can hear the sound of air whistling through the tunnel beyond, like,” he said with a grin. “I reckon one good push by all of us and we can get these rocks out of the way in a jiffy.”

“Well done, Chuckles,” Eric said, giving his stocky friend a hearty congratulatory slap on the back. “Never doubted you for a moment. Not one.”

Chuckles was totally bemused by his good fortune and smiled modestly, if somewhat awkwardly, as he put his shoulder to the wall with the others and started to push as hard as he could.

“That's it,” Eric said, grimacing. “Just a little ... bit more!”

They gave it one big effort and finally the wall gave way, collapsing into the old tunnel that lay beyond.

Chapter Nineteen - A Chink of Light

2010-02-12T22:31:00.000Z

The moon strolled casually along the edge of the horizon, smiling with satisfaction as it took one last look for the night over the land it had watched over these past twelve hours. Job well done, it thought with pride. Twenty million, four hundred and seventeen thousand, three hundred and two nights it had completed in a row and all that without a single night's holiday to boot. Mind you, it recalled, there were those two days several hundred years earlier it had taken off due to illness – moon flu –but those didn't really count, though.

The sun, peeking over the horizon to the west, waved a greeting at the moon as its lunar orbit took it dipping below the horizon.

“Morning, Mooney!” shouted the sun.

The moon stopped briefly to glance back to where it had started its shift late on the previous day, and cast a moonbeam smile across the way at its eternal workmate.

“Hello, Sunshine!”

The sun removed its hat and jacket and hung them from a nearby cloud.

“Quiet night?” the sun shouted, straining to see the moon as it sunk lower beneath the horizon.

“Yeah, not bad. Have a nice day now. See you later!”

“Will do, Mooney!”

The moon waved farewell and disappeared from view to catch up on some well-earned sleep before the start of the next night's shift (it's amazing how tiring just hanging around can be, after all).

The sun stretched and yawned as it gazed out over the Underworld. How quiet and peaceful it all looked at this time of day. Needed a bit of brightening up, though.

The first rays of sunlight broke through the leaf cover overhead and warmed David's cold and aching body as he lay curled up on the ground next to Robbie with only a tattered sheet to cover him. It was the start of a new dawn. It was the start of a new day. It was the start of a new life ... well, okay, maybe not quite the start of a new life, to be honest. But it was definitely the start of a new day, though.

David looked at Robbie as his friend lay snoring gently on his side, his chest rising and falling with deep doggy breaths. He looked exactly the same as at any time David had watched him sleeping in his kennel back home in the Overworld. If he hadn't heard his hairy friend talk himself then he would never believe, just by looking at him sleeping, that he was capable of doing so. But then, maybe, it had all just a dream anyway. After all, talking dogs and strange new worlds were just the stuff of wild fantasies, weren't they?

The more he thought about it, the more it seemed that none of what he had experienced in the last couple of days could possibly be true. Kidnapped by an elf? Nah. Taken to a place that exists parallel to the world as he knew it? Nah. Meeting all manners of strange creatures and supernatural beings? Nah. Being chased by nutters with longbows and psychos in black cloaks? Nah. Having a magic bracelet that can make someone invisible just by wishing it? Yeah, right.

Only in his wildest dreams would any of that be true! With a chuckle, David closed his eyes and rolled over onto his side. Slowly opening his eyes again, he gazed down the gentle slopes of the hill on which they were sleeping. An elephant was drinking water from a stream that wound its way around the foot of the hill. Nothing unusual or strange about that, he thought to himself.

A smaller elephant appeared from behind the first elephant and stuck its trunk into the river too. After a moment, the smaller elephant had drunk enough to satisfy its thirst and then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do, rose up majestically onto its hind legs and patted its bigger companion on the side before wandering out of sight behind its large friend.

David smiled ruefully. He had to admit that was just a little out of the ordinary. Maybe, just maybe, he hadn't been dreaming after all.

“Oh well, then,” he said aloud.

Muffled movement and a languid yawn from behind caused David to glance over his shoulder.

“Hey, what's up, buddy?” Robbie asked, looking up at him while scratching the back of his ear with a hind leg. The more he scratched the more his head kept tilting to one side – oh it was such a good itch to be scratching!

David smiled ruefully once more.

“Oh, nothing,” he sighed finally. “It's just that, well... nothing really.”

Robbie stopped scratching the itch at the back of his ear, looked at his hind paw for a moment, thought about it, and then, with a small bark of delight, licked it clean. David screwed his face up in disgust.

“What?” Robbie protested, wiping his mouth with the back of his paw. “Dogs do these kinds of things, you know. Besides, it tastes good!”

Feeling squeamish, David shook his head and turned to look back down the hill again. The two elephants were wandering away from the stream back towards the road that led into town, playfully kicking a ball back and forth between them as they went. Further along the road, David spotted several small carts being pushed and pulled by diminutive figures as the market traders from out of town made their way towards Bartertown for another day's hard bargaining and cheeky shenanigans.

“Fancy some breakfast, buddy?”

“I thought we ate the last of our food when we got here last night?” David asked, without looking round – he was spellbound by the dazzling sight of the town rising into view at the end of the road, gradually being illuminated by the warm rays of the rising sun

“Ah, we did that right enough,” Robbie agreed, “but there are ways and means of acquiring food, young sir. See this tree here?”

David looked round, studied the tree in question for a moment, then gave Robbie a quizzical look, wondering what he had failed to notice about it. After all, it didn't look all that special to him, to be honest.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Well, this is no ordinary tree, buddy,” Robbie said, rising to his feet and stretching up towards the low-hanging branches. “This is what is known as the One Tree, you see, and it gives its name to the hill we're on.”

“The One Tree Hill?”

“Yes, that's the one. Anyway, the One Tree is an amazing thing. If someone was dying of starvation then this tree would be a real life-saver, believe me.”

David looked puzzled. He couldn't see any sign of any fruit or any other food for that matter hanging from the branches. Surely Robbie didn't mean you could eat the branches themselves, did he?

“Um... how exactly?” he asked, hoping that Robbie wasn't going to suggest that they actually do eat the branches – they didn't look particularly appetising.

Robbie grinned and grabbed one of the branches. David gulped – Robbie had lost it!

“What kind of food would you like for breakfast?” Robbie asked, gently shaking the branch up and down.

Worried for his friend's sanity, David decided to play along just to keep him happy.

“Well, ...um, a raspberry jam sandwich would be nice... maybe....”

“Not a problem,” Robbie replied, beginning to shake the branch a little more briskly, looking up into the tree as he did so. “Just keep watching, buddy. You'll like this.”

Faster and faster Robbie shook the branch, until it seemed like the whole tree was being shaken too. Suddenly, a jam sandwich fell from the tree and landed just perfectly onto Robbie's waiting paw. David gasped in amazement. Robbie just grinned.

“There you go,” he said, handing the sandwich to David, his tail wagging ten- to-the-dozen with happiness. “Plenty more where that came from, buddy, so eat up!”

David was still too gobsmacked to take it straight away, but soon his hunger overtook his astonishment and he got stuck into the jam sandwich. Considering it fell from a tree and all, it actually tasted really good!

Wanting his own breakfast, Robbie started to shake the branch again.

“I'd love a bowl of strawberry porridge,” he said loudly. “Please!”

“Ach, wouldn't we all!” shouted back a high-pitched voice. “We've had a bit of a run on breakfast bowls of late, unfortunately. The last few beggars didn't leave them behind when they left. How 'bout a nice cup of strawberry porridge instead?”

David stopped himself in mid-bite and glanced up into the branches. A strange looking creature with a big round head, big bulging eyes and a thin pale body was hanging upside down from one of the top-most branches.

“Hmm, yeah, a cup of that'll do, thanks,” Robbie replied. “Any Bango-Bango nuts going spare, by the way?”

“I'm sure we can rummage some up for you,” said the creature, who promptly scurried back down the branch and out of sight behind some foliage.

“What... what was that?” David gasped.

“What? The Bango-Bango nuts?” asked Robbie.

David shook his head.

“No... well, yes, them as well actually, I guess, but what I really meant was – what was that thing up there?!”

Before Robbie could answer, though, a clattering sound made its way down from tree branch to tree branch, quickly followed by the appearance of a white china cup and a small pouch which Robbie caught in his waiting hands.

“Cheers!” he shouted up the way.

“Not a problem, my good man!” came the reply from above.

Robbie took a sip of his strawberry porridge and smiled.

“Mmm, mighty fine!” he muttered, then remembering David's question, looked down at his bemused-looking friend. “Sorry, what was that you were saying again, buddy?”

“What was that thing?” David repeated, pointing up into the tree.

“That,” Robbie began quietly, just in case the tree-dweller was eavesdropping, “is a very good question.” He looked up at the tree for a moment then looked back and shrugged his shoulders. “Couldn't really tell you, to be quite honest. I don't think anyone really knows for sure, either. Everyone just calls them the Tree-Dwellers. Strange lot too. Never leave the tree. Some people think they're ghosts or something, their souls doomed to spend forever in this tree. But, whatever they are, they do seem to be able to give people exactly what they want to eat whenever they want it. You name it, they'll whip it up and drop it down for you. Just don't ask me how they do that, though. I doubt even the Almighty One could tell you!”

David stifled the question that was just waiting to be asked and instead tucked into the jam sandwich the Tree-dwellers had made for him. Somehow, he had a feeling any answer he got would just lead to another round of questions. The Underworld seemed to be a place that provoked more questions than willingly provided answers.

As they sat eating their breakfast in silence – well, while David sat eating in silence and Robbie sat eating with his snout in the china cup – David's attention gradually turned away from his concern about food and again focused on the gold bracelet on his wrist.

It was such an amazing feeling having such a wonderful thing in his possession, but the fact they had discovered its magical qualities did now throw quite a dark shadow of doubt over his long-held belief that it had once belonged to his real father. The one small tenuous link to his father that he had been holding onto all these years was fast becoming more and more tenuous and unlikely with each passing revelation. As great as having a magic bracelet was, he couldn't help but feel a little sad about what it meant.

Still, he thought, even if the bracelet hadn't belonged to his real father, there were still a number of unanswered questions which were stumping him. Firstly, how did it end up at the bottom of a box of junk in the loft of his old house? And secondly, what on earth did the ancient inscription on the side of the bracelet mean? David knew that it was unlikely anyone could give him the first answer, but if Robbie was right then there was someone back in town who could give him the second. The only problem was that meant going back into town to find that person and that, frankly, was a prospect which filled him with dread. He didn't think for one second that all those crazy people looking for him would have given up overnight. He really hoped that they would have, of course, but considering what they seemed to be looking for, there was no way it was going to happen. Magic bracelets didn't just grow on trees after all (well, maybe on the One Tree they might). Heading back into town was just asking for trouble in David's opinion. Robbie hadn't seemed all that keen either but he had made a pretty good argument for thinking that they might not get into too much trouble – for one thing, they had the magic bracelet and they had a fair idea of how to use it. With that on their side, Robbie was convinced that nothing could stop them. David still wasn't so sure, though. Staying up there on top of the One Tree Hill, sitting under the shade of the One Tree and eating all the wonderful food that their imaginations could dream up – well, that wasn't really too far short of the best idea he had ever heard in his life. He didn't want to give up on that idea by swapping it for the uncertain future that walking back into the lion's den would throw up for them. At least, not just yet anyway.

“Well, I'm thinking we should start thinking about heading into town before the day gets too busy,” Robbie said, lobbing his empty cup into the tree.

“Thanks,” came a cheery shout from above.

Glum, David chewed the last of his jam sandwich as slowly as he could. He really wasn't keen to leave at all.

“You ready?” Robbie asked.

Slowly, David got to his feet.

“Yeah, I guess. But as soon as we've spoken to this person then we're leaving again, right?”

“Absolutely,” Robbie replied, setting off down the hill before David could change his mind. There was a chirpy skip in his step now that he had been fed and watered. “Well, unless what we find out leads us to having to get more answers from somewhere else. Who knows where we could end up if that happens, eh? It's all quite exciting really, isn't it?”

As David trudged down the hill behind Robbie, he had a feeling that this was going to be the start of yet another very, very, very long day. Oh, what he'd give for the peace and quiet of being locked in his bedroom at home for hours and days on end...!

The Great Tavern really was a grand building. David hadn't really paid it too much attention the day before, maybe because he had been too close up to really appreciate it, but seeing it now from some distance away... well, it really was quite a sight. The Tavern wasn't anywhere near as tall as the Animal Union had been, but what it lacked in height it more than made up for in length. It just seemed to stretch on and on all across one side of town and totally dominated everything in sight for miles.

And if it was such a huge building on the outside, David wondered just how big it must seem on the inside. As it was, he hadn't really seen too much of it other than Eric's bedroom, the corridor, that really weird door at the bottom of the staircase that Eric seemed to hate, and then the hallway leading up to the front door. Judging by the size of the building looking at it as he was from afar, he reckoned there must be hundreds, if not thousands, of rooms that he hadn't yet seen.

“It's a pretty amazing building, isn't it?” David remarked, looking at his friend in wonder.

Robbie chuckled slightly.

“Well, yeah, I've always liked it,” he said, trying not to laugh too loudly. “Me and my buddies have marked our territories all round it several times. I particularly like the corners myself.”

“Oh, I see,” David muttered under his breath. Somehow the building didn't seem all that great anymore. Yeuch! “Um... so what else can you tell me about the person we're going to see, then?”

Robbie was gazing fondly at a particular corner of the building but quickly looked round.

“Her name is Krillik and she's a Water-Sprite,” he replied. “So she might look a little unusual to you. And don't go getting too close to her either. She's got a nasty habit of spraying people with water from her mouth.”

“She doesn't sound very nice, then,” David said, beginning to wonder if it was going to be mistake to talk to this person, curious though he was to see exactly what a Water-Sprite looked like.

“She's not all that bad really,” Robbie said, putting a reassuring paw round David's shoulders. “Besides, she's just about the only person that I can think of who may be able to make sense of that inscription on you-know-what.”

Instinctively, David checked to see that his bracelet was well hidden underneath his shirt. He laughed nervously at his ill-founded paranoia. Where had that come from all of a sudden?!

“Still there,” he mumbled, relieved and yet disturbed at the same time.

Robbie grinned and gave David a hearty slap on the back.

“Don't worry, buddy,” he said. “We'd soon know if it wasn't hidden 'cos we'd probably get immediately jumped by someone out looking for it!”

David gave his friend a look of concern but said nothing. If those were meant to be words of reassurance then they didn't really have the desired effect. Even more paranoid and nervous than before, he stopped and quickly looked all around for anyone who may have been acting suspiciously or was following them.

“Come on, buddy,” Robbie said, ignoring his friend's spiralling descent into panic. “Bartertown is just round this next corner up ahead.”

As Robbie padded onward, David hesitated for a moment and quickly glanced around again. Was that someone lurking in the shadows across on the other side of the street? No, he told himself, shaking his head. All it had been was a long shadow thrown down from a sign on the next building by the sun.

“You coming?” Robbie called back to him.

“Yeah, I'm coming,” David replied, just taking one last look in case his mind had been playing tricks on his mind for playing tricks on him – it was all just getting so confusing!

Robbie had slipped a few yards ahead and was looking around the corner onto the next street as David caught up with him.

“Doesn't look like there's any sign of trouble,” he whispered, looking round at David's anxious face. “Krillik's stall is usually set up by the Statue of Nintanchocho, the memorial to the greatest Leprechaun who ever lived. It shouldn't take too long to get through the market at this time of day, though.”

Robbie tugged David by the arm and they rounded the corner onto the street leading into Bartertown. It may have only been a short time since dawn but already there were dozens of people roaming around the stalls looking at the goods on offer. Some were already deep in negotiation with the stall owners about purchasing items.

“ ... so you're saying that gold-plated tankard is worth two gold coins?”

“Two silver coins, madam, that's right.”

“Are you sure it's only that much? Does seem awfully cheap?”

“Actually, I tell a lie. Just give me one copper coin and it's yours. I'll even throw in a barrel of merry-merry-off-yer-trolley ale. Of course, you'll have to do a little dance for me first, though, just as a sign of good faith and all that. Something jolly like a little jig will do nicely. But maybe a wee tap dance would be more your thing, actually.”

“Oh! Well ... um, okay then.”

David stepped out of the way as a young-looking witch, hitching up her long black skirt to reveal her shocking blue and yellow stockings and her black pointy shoes, started to tap dance on the spot for a moment before finishing off with a big flourish of the arms. The stall owner, a short gnome with a bizarre beehive hairdo, clapped furiously and spouted off an array of superlatives in appreciation of the young witch's efforts, who blushed red with embarrassment.

“Just keep walking, buddy,” Robbie muttered, pulling David away from the uncomfortable spectacle. “If you stand and watch for long enough then they'll try and make you do something stupid too, you know. Even if you don't want to buy anything from them!”

Up ahead, there was a loud cry of disgust from a crowd gathered around another stall and despite Robbie's warning, David couldn't help but move closer to get a better look at what was going on. A harassed-looking pixie, wearing a fancy black top hat and long coat tails, was arguing with an angry ogre, who was clutching a stool with only two legs in his hand.

“ ... and this farking stool you sold me only has two legs on it!” the ogre was shouting. “Just tell me, exactly how in the Almighty One's name is anyone supposed to sit down on this blasted thing without falling over?!”

The pixie looked incandescent with rage himself but also seemed determined to avoid throwing oil onto the fire of the ogre's anger.

“Well, to be fair, if you'd read the sign properly, sir, then you'd have noticed that we were offering a two for three special on the day you bought that fine item. And if you're feeling particularly observant today, although I guess you maybe have other things on your mind, then you'll see that other tiny little sign just over my shoulder says that refunds cannot be given –”

“'Cos you're a tight-fisted cheating crook?” the ogre suggested through gritted teeth.

The pixie removed his top hat and placed it carefully onto the table. He had suffered enough abuse for one day.

“Now, sir, I'm not a violent person by nature but if you're suggesting I have acted in an unprofessional manner then I must insist on challenging you to a duel!”

The ogre looked confused by the tiny pixie's threat.

“Eh?”

“Indeed, sir,” the pixie said, raising his hands in an old-fashioned pugilist's stance.

“I'd just like a third leg for my stool,” the ogre muttered, looking at the stool in his hand. “I didn't come here looking for trouble or anything.”

The pixie visibly relaxed and retrieved his top hat from the table.

“Well, why didn't you say so in the first place? Here, as a sign of goodwill, please take this finely crafted leg” – the pixie pulled a stool leg from under the table and handed it to the ogre – “which I think you'll find is a perfect match for the other two. That'd normally be three bronze coins, so it would, but since it's your good self, I will let you have it for the small price of a stirring rendition of the second chorus of 'Our Almighty One who art not interested, Hallo be thy greeting’.”

“Hmm, well, that seems perfectly reasonable.”

Robbie shook his head, grabbed David by the arm and quickly whisked him away from the bizarre goings-on just as the ogre cleared his throat and began to sing the opening bars of the unofficial Underworld anthem. Being an animal – and an intelligent one at that – he had very little time and patience for some of the stranger intricacies of life beyond the Animal Quarter. Of course, his attitude towards such foolishness may have had something to do with the embarrassing time he was made to walk around Bartertown with a drum strapped to his back (which banged every time he took a step) by a pair of canny Leprechauns who had sold him a fine silver comb for his beard for next to nothing.

“I quite like this part of town actually,” David said cheerily, as they walked briskly through the myriad of stalls all around them.

“Oh, yeah, it's a real hoot,” Robbie muttered sarcastically, still remembering that painful episode with the drum.

“It is, isn't?” David replied, the sarcastic reply bypassing him completely. Something caught his attention just a little way ahead of them. “Is that the statue you were talking about over there,” he added, pointing towards a statue set in the middle of a pond a short distance away.

Robbie nodded.

“That's the one. Krillik needs to have a source of water close by, you see, or she starts to dry out and gets all flaky, which isn't the prettiest of sights really. Anyway, time to find out what's written on you-know-what, eh?”

David nodded and fell slightly behind Robbie as they approached the stalls surrounding the pond. He glanced up at the statue as they passed by and just about burst into laughter as he got a close-up view of the expression on the leprechaun's face. Somehow it didn't really surprise him that the statue had been carved with the leprechaun sticking his tongue out.

“Here she is,” Robbie said, then stopped David in his tracks with an outstretched paw. “There's one more thing I should mention, though. Krillik can be a bit, well...um, flirty sometimes, shall we say. She's a bit insecure and likes to attract attention to herself to boost her confidence, so if she starts hitting on you then just ignore it, okay?”

David didn't quite follow what he was talking about. What did flirty mean? And why would she start hitting him? He hadn't done anything to her! She hadn't even met him yet either!

“Okay,” he replied, trusting that his friend wasn't talking complete rubbish.

Satisfied that he had been understood, Robbie pointed at a little stall, with wide canvas awnings overhead blocking the light into it, sandwiched in-between two larger stalls selling waterproof jackets and umbrellas. Good choice of goods to sell, David thought, especially considering the ground all around the little stall was drenched with water. While the owners of the larger stalls were plainly visible as they sold their wares to passers-by, David couldn't actually see anyone working behind the little stall.

“Doesn't look like anyone's there,” he said aloud. “Maybe we should come back some other time?”

“Nah, she'll be there,” Robbie replied, head down as he walked towards the stall. “She'll be busy relaxing in the little paddling pool out the back, probably.”

Hurrying to catch Robbie up, David joined him just as he padded underneath the canvas awning. As one, they peered over the table, straining to see and hear what was going on behind the stall. Sure enough, it didn't take long before they heard splashing sounds coming from the small paddling pool shrouded in the darkness somewhere near the back of the stall.

Robbie sniffed the air and, recognising a familiar smell, smiled broadly.

“Morning, Krillik,” he said loudly.

The splashing stopped abruptly then suddenly a stream of water shot out of the darkness and soaked Robbie from head to toe. David ducked out of sight beneath the level of the table and glanced up at his drenched friend who was busy wiping the salty water from his eyes.

“Nice to see you too, Krillik,” Robbie called back into the darkness of the stall.

Robbie ducked down beside David as another stream of water shot through the air and landed behind them on the ground.

“Who's there?” said a surprisingly soft voice. “I don't recognise your voice.”

“It's Robbie,” Robbie answered. “I used to come and trade some antiques with you a while back. Remember?”

Krillik fell silent.

“Ah, the bearded dog, yes?” she finally answered.

“That'll be me, I guess,” Robbie replied, not quite sure whether or not to take offence at the description.

“Oh yes, yes. I remember you. I'll be with you in a moment, my young pup.”

The sound of Krillik climbing out of the paddling pool and dripping water onto the ground could be heard, quickly followed by the sound of wet footsteps heading towards the table. David and Robbie peeked over the top of the table and were greeted by two short blasts of water in both of their faces. David screwed up his face and spat out some of the water that had got into his mouth. It tasted like saltwater. After wiping his eyes, he caught sight of Krillik for the first time and gasped in surprise. Perhaps due to Robbie's description of her, and his own less-than-impressed first impression, he had expected her to be a really old ugly crone, but he was somewhat taken aback to find that she was by far and away the prettiest thing he had ever seen in his short life. He couldn't help but smile at her despite the soaking she had given him.

“Ah, yes, I certainly do remember you, Mister Robbie,” Krillik said, sweeping her long dark hair from one side of her head to the other. “How nice it is to see you again? I must say, you're looking awfully well. Have you been working out or something? Mmm, yes, you do look very well.”

Robbie could feel himself going a little red in the cheeks but fortunately his thick coat of hair was hiding his blushes.

“You too,” he mumbled, shyly bowing his head and averting his gaze.

“And who's your equally attractive young friend here,” Krillik said, fixing David with her amazing green eyes and leaning on the table in a manner which showed off her ample charms beneath her towel and had David feeling slightly peculiar. “I haven't seen you around in these parts, my little elf,” she continued, playing with the ends of her hair in her fingers. “What lovely eyes you have. Like little pools of the finest blue water. I could swim in them for years. You must come more often the pair of you. Mmm, yes, I'd really like it if you came more often.”

Robbie cleared his throat loudly and attracted Krillik's attention from David, who wasn't sure whether to be grateful or ungrateful for the interruption.

“We're here to get your opinion on something,” Robbie said.

“Oh, what's that then?” Krillik asked, fluttering her luxurious eyelashes in his direction and smiling coyly.

“It's... it's, um, rather a delicate matter actually. It concerns an antique item in the possession of my young friend, Rupert, here. I think it would be best if we discussed this in private, if you know what I mean?”

Krillik glanced in David's direction again and gave him a quick fluttering of her eyelashes for a moment. David felt himself going a little weak at the knees for some inexplicable reason.

“Well, you'd both better step into my boudoir then, gentlemen,” Krillik said, gazing into David's eyes with a power that was quite hypnotic to him. “It's the most private place I can think of in which to ... discuss things.”

Krillik pushed herself away from the table and lifted up a hatch at the edge of the stall, opening up a gap just wide enough to walk through. For some reason, both David and Robbie were just about falling over themselves in their desire to be first through the gap.

“Hmm, yes, it is rather a striking piece, isn't it?” Krillik muttered, as she turned the gold bracelet over in her hands. “I haven't seen a piece as well crafted as this for a very long time.” She stopped herself and looked anxiously at both David and Robbie. “Not that I'm so very old, though,” she said, quickly. “Or even old in any way. I'm just a young girl really. Still got everything in its rightful place, you know. No sagging here, I can tell you.”

David and Robbie exchanged an awkward look.

“Sure thing,” Robbie said, after a moment's silence. “So, anyhoo, what can you tell us about the bracelet, then?”

Krillik turned the bracelet over and over in her hands once again. With her brow furrowed in concentration, she reached up, brought the dimly lit lantern overhead down a little closer and turned up the light to view the bracelet more clearly.

“This inscription is interesting,” she said, running a finger slowly along the ancient words as she read it to herself. “It's written in a very ancient language the like of which hasn't been uttered in this land for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. In fact, it bears all the hallmarks of one of the old celestial languages.”

“As one of what, sorry?” David asked.

“A celestial language,” Krillik repeated, placing the bracelet on her lap for a moment as she stretched up towards a nearby shelf and pulled down a well- thumbed book. “A divine language, the language of the celestial beings, the language of the Almighty One himself even. It's very, very rare to find an inscription written in such language down here these days. It is only ever used in the City of Holy Clouds where the celestial beings and the Almighty One himself reside.”

David was impressed.

“So what does it say?” he asked.

Krillik opened the book and flicked through towards the middle. Running her eyes down the pages until she found what she was looking for, she spent the next few moments studying the text in greater detail, occasionally looking at the inscription on the bracelet and, more occasionally still, nodding her head.

“Well, this just gets more interesting,” she gasped, then glanced up at David. “What else can you tell me about this bracelet?” she asked, closing the book. “I would be most intrigued to hear about how it came into your possession?”

“But first you tell us what the inscriptions says,” Robbie interjected, suddenly feeling a little anxious about Krillik's questioning of David, especially given that his elf disguise hadn't exactly responded too well to the soaking Krillik had given them earlier.

“Very well,” Krillik said, then held the bracelet out for both David and Robbie to clearly see the inscription. “The style of writing doesn't help matters in translating the words accurately, and you must understand that no one has seen such a language in this land for countless years, but I think I have managed to make some kind of sense of what it says.” Both David and Robbie looked at her with baited breath. “It reads... 'To Fluffykinkins, Love Babs’.”

What?!

David and Robbie looked at Krillik in total disbelief.

What?!

Krillik shrugged her shoulders and turned the bracelet over in her hands for the umpteenth time.

“Is that all it says?” David asked, barely able to hide his disappointment. He had expected something a little more earth shattering than just a gesture of love. “There must be something else, surely?”

Krillik handed the bracelet back to David with an apologetic smile.

“That was it, I'm afraid,” she said, replacing the book on the shelf. “I wonder who Fluffykinkins is, though.”

“You know, that was the first thought that came into my head too,” Robbie remarked sarcastically. “I mean, what else could possibly have been inscribed there, eh?”

“No need to get shirty, Mister Robbie,” Krillik said pointedly. “I only told you what was written on it. I didn't write the words, did I?”

Robbie crossed his arms and muttered quietly in David's direction.

“That would have been Babs then, eh?”

A stream of water hit Robbie in the face.

“I heard that,” Krillik said indignantly. “Don't shoot the messenger, Mister Robbie. It's not polite.”

Robbie wiped the water out of his eyes for the third time and growled quietly at Krillik. He had a good mind to give her what for.

David hadn't been paying either of them any attention, though. How could such a magical bracelet have such meaningless words written on it? There just had to be something else more to it somewhere. There just had to be.

While David struggled to make sense of it all, Krillik, meanwhile, had been edging closer and closer until she was almost sitting right on top of him. A gentle touch on the arm snapped his attention back in an instant.

“My, what strong arms you have, Rupert,” Krillik gasped, flicking her hair back over her shoulder. “So tell me, where did a handsome young elf like you find such a wonderful bracelet? Maybe you could tell me about it over a nice meal, if you like? Maybe have a nice bottle of my-my-my-don’t-you-look-nicer-all-of-a- sudden wine too? Yes?”

Still dripping wet from his unasked for shower, Robbie grabbed David by the arm and hauled him to his feet just as Krillik started to lick her lips.

“Come on, David, we're leaving - now!”

David started to protest but gave up when he saw the fierce look of determination on his friend's face. With little struggle, he allowed himself to be pulled along behind his friend as the perturbed dog stormed out of Krillik's stall and out into the marketplace once more.

Upset by the hasty exit, Krillik moved to the edge of her stall as the two friends hurried away and waved a farewell in their direction with a tear just beginning to trickle down her cheek.

“Goodbye, Rupert,” she said, softly. “Or David, or whoever you are. Farewell, my love. Until we meet again!”

“Well, you didn't have to leave so abruptly,” David complained, as they wandered with no real purpose or plan in mind through another part of Bartertown. “She was going to make me a nice meal and share a nice drink with me.”

“Oh, she'd have made a nice meal right enough,” Robbie scoffed. “And you would have been the main course. She'd have eaten you alive, you know.”

“She wouldn't have eaten me, would she?” David asked, missing the point somewhat.

Robbie shook his head at his friend's naivety.

“No, not literally,” he replied. “But by the time she'd finished with you it would have felt like she had. Believe me, I know the type. I once went out with this mental poodle called Laura and she ...”

David stopped listening as Robbie started to rabbit on about his romantic dalliance with Laura. It wasn't really any of his concern, to be honest, and he had other more important things on his mind which required more immediate attention (although now that she was no longer gazing into his eyes, the temptations of dinner with Krillik were quickly fading from memory).

Foremost in his mind was that the mystery behind the bracelet hadn't been solved in the slightest following the visit to Krillik, although the revelation of the meaning of the inscription had completely removed the last shred of hope that it had once belonged to his real father. He couldn't imagine that his real father would have been called Fluffykinkins by anyone, and his mother's name certainly wasn't Babs anyway. And as to who Fluffykinkins and Babs were, well, that was anyone's guess. Although the fact that the inscription had been written in – what was it again?... oh, yes – a celestial language seemed to indicate that maybe they were celestial beings. Strange names, though, no matter what they were.

As Robbie continued to drone on about the same crazy poodle, David suddenly had another more radical thought. If the bracelet was written in a celestial language, a language used only by celestial beings, and if the bracelet gave the wearer certain magical abilities, then maybe, just maybe, then the real owner of the bracelet was someone who was very important amongst the celestial beings. And who was the most important person amongst these beings...?

David stopped his train of thought for a moment, let the engine cool down, then let the brake off once more. The most important person was the person whose name he had heard uttered a dozen times over the last day or so – the Almighty One himself. David stopped dead in his tracks, leaving Robbie to keep walking on ahead by himself talking to no one, as it suddenly all started to fall into place like falling dominos. Could the bracelet really have belonged to the Almighty One? And if it did, then why didn't he still have it? And if the Almighty One knew he didn't have it, then why wasn't he chasing after David looking for it like everyone else? And if it was the Almighty One's then how come he didn't know that David had it? Weren't gods supposed to know everything and be able to see everything that was going on?

“What'd you stop for?” Robbie asked, walking back towards David. “You missed the end of my story about Laura?”

“Was it important?”

“No, not really. She just bit off more than she could chew in the end. I think she's just a street mutt nowadays, plying her trade for little more than a handful of dried dog food at a time.”

They both fell silent as they stood looking at each other for a moment, neither sure what to say next to that little story. The bustling sounds of the busy market reverberated all around them, making their silence more apparent.

Suddenly David felt a strange tingling sensation coming from the bracelet and hurriedly lifted up the cuff of his shirt just enough to see what was going on. The inscription was glowing like it had in the bar called Heaven the previous night. Inside his mind's eye, an image of two indistinct figures approaching came into view. It quickly became apparent these mysterious people were looking for him. And one of them was dangerously hungry.

“Someone's coming, Robbie,” he whispered. “We need to hide again. Hold on to me.”

David gripped the bracelet and closed his eyes as Robbie held onto him tightly. One wish later and they both vanished from view.

It started off as just one solitary quiet rumble but quickly progressed into a whole chain reaction of violent rumbles that seemed to go on for ages until they were brought to a sudden, if somewhat noisy and definitely smelly, conclusion. PARP!

“Sorry, that's me again.”

Flik-Flak covered his nose with his hand and groaned as Rodney held up one hand in acknowledgement of the fact that it was he who had farted, while his other hand desperately tried to swat away the foul lingering smell with Chuckles' warhammer.

“I thought you said you saw someone matching his description over here,” Rodney said, tentatively sniffing the air to check that the smell had gone (just about). “You must have been mistaken.”

Flik-Flak uncovered his nose then looked around the market. He scratched his head in confusion for a moment.

“I'm sure I saw him,” he muttered. “My eyes have never deceived me like that before. Most unusual.”

“Not to worry, boss,” Rodney said, looking around also but for an entirely different reason. “We've been searching for a long time without a break and even you are bound to start imagining things when you're tired and –”

A faint aroma wandered under Rodney's nose and his mouth immediately started to salivate. His eyes lit up as he spotted a stall selling pancakes and sweets only a stone's throw away, and he hurried away at a speed beyond what anyone would have thought him capable of towards his hunger's salvation.

Flik-Flak was still puzzled, though. He was sure that he had seen David standing just a few feet from where he was now standing himself. One moment he was there, but when someone crossed his path and blocked his view for a second, he looked again and David was gone. He thought he should have seen which way he had gone, though, but he hadn't seen anything. It was most peculiar. Maybe Rodney had a point, though. It had been a very long fruitless night and morning of desperately searching for David. All the worrying about Eric, Pigkiller and Chuckles wasn't helping matters either. Perhaps it was no wonder that the stress of it all was making him see things that weren't there. After a run of horrendous luck befalling his team, he'd have given anything for just the smallest slice of good fortune right about now. If only –

“Flik-Flak?”

Flik-Flak spun round to see who was saying his name and kept on spinning. No one was there.

“And now I'm hearing things as well,” he said quietly. “I must be going mad or something.”

“No, you're not. It's me David.”

Flik-Flak shook his head and laughed.

“I must be projecting my desire to find David out of my subconscious,” he said, rubbing his head. “Dearie me, now I can hear David speaking to me even though he's not anywhere to be seen. Madness. Sheer madness. I think I need to lie down awhile.”

“No, wait, hang on a moment, I'll just ...”

Suddenly David and Robbie appeared right in front of Flik-Flak's eyes. David was gripping his arm tightly but had a broad smile on his face. Flik-Flak suddenly felt decidedly unwell.

“Oh my,” he muttered, and promptly fainted.

Chapter Thirteen - The Dark Side of Nowhere

2010-02-12T22:30:00.011Z

Walking out onto the High Street again, this time with his best friend at his side, the Underworld suddenly seemed like a less daunting place than it had done previously to David.

The unfamiliarity and wonder of the sights he had seen, coupled with the staggering realisation, above all else, that animals could actually talk, had taken his breath away and rendered him virtually speechless. Eric had indeed been right when he had warned him about what he would see just before they left the tavern's grounds that morning. What he had seen since really had just turned everything upside down inside his head. Everything he had been led to believe back at home, everything that everyone else took for granted, it was all wrong. Yet coming back out onto the High Street again, he suddenly realised that he just had to take what he was seeing at face value. Talking pigs – yep, no problem. Flying witch taxi drivers – yep, no problem. Little blue imps who spewed abuse at you in an unrecognisable language – yep, alarming, but ultimately no problem. Following your pet dog while he guides you through a town in a world that makes no sense – yep, he guessed that was no problem too. The fact was, he could either take it all at face value or he could just end up going insane from the sheer wonder of it all. David knew which choice he preferred. And besides, it sure beat being cooped up in a house with Kim all day!

As he and Robbie walked along, a strong gust of wind suddenly kicked up and whipped around David's head, making him feel like he was literally being battered by the elements. Fearful of one of his ears dropping off again, even though he had reapplied it with Robbie's help just before they had left the inn, David instinctively cupped his hands over his ears and waited patiently for the wind to die once again before removing them.

“Are they still on okay?” David asked, looking towards his old friend as he felt for the telltale upswept points on his ears.

Robbie gave him a look up and down – more kind of side to side, really – and nodded his head.

“Yeah, they look fine, buddy,” he replied, gesturing for them to continue on their way. “I tell you, kiddo, I've seen elves who look less like an elf than you do. Especially those weird Christmas elves who work with that creepy Santa fellow. Yep, it'll take more than a gust of wind to knock those ears off after the amount of tape and glue we used sticking them back on again. I don't think we could have done a better job even if we'd used staples to stick them back on instead.”

David smiled in gratitude and Robbie promptly wagged his tail. It was good to have his old friend with him again, David thought to himself. Even if the roles had kind of changed somewhat since he had last seen him. Back home, he had been the master, but now he felt like Robbie knew more about everything than he did and consequently couldn't help but feel a little inferior to him in just about every respect. Robbie had been his dog, but down here, in the Underworld, he guessed he really wasn't anymore. This time, Robbie was just his friend.

“Look up there,” Robbie said, snapping David out of his thoughts as he pointed towards a sign hanging above the entrance to a side street close by. “See that – that's where we're headed.”

David gazed up at the sign but couldn't tell what it referred to, or even if the gibberish on the sign were even words.

“What does it say?” he asked, following his companion as Robbie started towards the side street.

“Oh, of course, sorry,” Robbie said, holding his paw to his head, “I totally forgot that you can't read. Sorry buddy. It reads, "Access to Residents of Housing Zone A only". Down that street is where I live when I'm in the Underworld. Housing Zone A, you see. I share a nice wee flat with a few friends of mine. Great bunch of guys they are. You'll like them when you meet them.”

David looked at the sign again, but even though he now knew what it supposedly said, he still couldn't make head or tail of it. To him, it was just a mass of straight and squiggly lines with no meaning. Well, apart from the meaning Robbie had just told him, obviously.

They turned off the High Street and passed under the sign onto the narrow side street. After a short distance, the street gradually began to dip down and then turned into a seemingly never-ending set of steps that dug deep straight down into the heart of the Animal Quarter. Walking down the steps, David suddenly began to feel acutely aware of his own smallness as the walls on either side became steeper and steeper the further they went down into the increasing darkness. David looked over his shoulder and saw the steps rising back up to the High Street, which was now little more than a small chink of light far above in the distance. He gulped nervously. To be honest, he didn't much fancy the thought of climbing back up all those stairs again later.

“Yeah, it's a bit of a daunting thought climbing these stairs if you need to get up onto the High Street,” Robbie said, sensing David's apprehension and giving him a knowing smile. “Fortunately, there are other ways to get back up there without struggling up these stairs.” David looked at him keenly, relieved to hear it. “Yep, the quickest way up or down is actually to use the cable car that runs from quite close to my flat, fortunately enough, right up to the very far end of the High Street. It's powered by a pair of giant elephants – Castor and Pollux they're called – who work in unison cranking round a pair of massive wheels that pull the cable along with their trunks. One stands on the High Street, you see, working the wheel up there and helping people off and on the car, and the other stands at the bottom doing pretty much the same thing, except, being the smarter of the two, he also collects the fare. They make quite a living between them doing that job, by all accounts. Personally, I think they could make a real killing if they had any real concept of money and its value. As it is, they're quite happy just taking scraps of food as payment instead. But that's elephants for you, though – they're not the sharpest tools in the box. Given the choice between a peanut and gold, they'll take a peanut every time. Anyway, the cable car only runs during the day because they like to relax at night with a few drinks in the elephant bar,One for the Trunk Road. With any luck, the car will still be running when we need it later.”

After that, the two friends fell silent as the long march down the stairs continued unabated. Finally, after what felt like an eternity to David, the steps ran out and they reached blessed flat ground once again. The darkness that had seemed to shroud the stairs had faded away the closer they got to the bottom and now they were once again bathed in bright sunshine. David glanced back up the stairs again and just saw nothing but darkness. It really did look like they had come down an awfully long way.

“Well, this is it,” Robbie said, snapping David out of his reverie. “Housing Zone A. Or, as everyone round here other than the authorities likes to call it, Partytown.” Robbie's tail began to wag furiously as a smile came to his hairy face. “The High Street is all very well and good but that's where all the powers-that-be and all the money-makers have their big, fancy buildings. But this place, Partytown, this is where the real heart of the Animal Quarter lies. This is the part that very few non-animals ever get to see. It's the part that the bigwigs like to pretend doesn't really exist.” Robbie looked at David and grinned. “I just love it down here.”

And David could see why. All the animals looked a great deal happier down here than they had done anywhere else that David had seen. Everywhere he looked there were animals laughing and joking with one another. While it had seemed that different species of animal didn't seem to mix with each other up on the High Street, down here they all did. Directly across from where David and Robbie were standing at the foot of the steps there was a bar that was literally packed to the roof with animals drinking and having a good time. The noise coming from there was almost deafening.

“Yeah, it was a stroke of genius opening a bar right there,” Robbie said, noticing David staring at the bar, seemingly mesmerised by its vitality and noise. “After walking down all these stairs after a hard day of working topside, everyone needs a mug of pick-me-up juice or something similar. Anyway, come on, let's go see my flat, yeah?”

David tore his eyes away from the raucous bar and followed after his friend. Just at the side of the bar, however, he spotted a group of three dogs huddled close together. One of them had his paw in a bag and was handing something over to the other two dogs. A fourth dog, a big tough-looking Rottweiler, was standing at the edge of the building looking up and down the street with a beady eye. One beady eye in particular spotted David looking at the group lurking in the shadows behind him.

“Just keep walking, you miserable elf,” the Rottweiler growled, baring his sharp teeth. “You didn't see anything happening over here. Got it?”

Scared, David quickly nodded and looked away, hoping beyond hope that the
vicious-looking dog wouldn't come after him. His pace quickened, too, and Robbie had to hurry to catch up with him.

“What's wrong, buddy?” he asked.

David chanced a quick glance over his shoulder and saw the Rottweiler shepherding a small naive-looking Poodle into the alleyway with a lascivious smile.

“There was something going on down the side of that bar which that dog didn't want me looking at,” David said quickly.

Robbie looked over his shoulder and spotted the big Rottweiler standing with his arms crossed at the entrance to the alleyway, his beady eyes roaming up and down the street.

“Hmm, yeah, now you mention it, there might just have been something a little dodgy going on there,” Robbie said, stroking his beard with one paw while he hurried David along with the other. “Here's me singing the praises of Partytown and how good it is compared to everywhere else, and then you see something like that and it shows the nasty underside to it all.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I maybe shouldn't be telling you this, but let's just say that there are a few unsavoury elements plying their trade down here, that's all,” Robbie said, lowering his voice. “Some animals – generally speaking, those of the clever but decidedly bad-natured variety – have been obtaining certain items from the Overworld and bringing them down here to sell illegally onto the other animals.”

“Really? What kinds of things have they been taking?”

Robbie stopped and, pulling David to one side, glanced around nervously, checking that no one could hear what secrets he was about to reveal to him.

“Biscuits,” he whispered into David's ear, then quickly looked up and around, checking the street for unwanted listeners for a second time, as if it was the
greatest secret of all time and he wanted no one else to know.

David looked at his friend as if he had been expecting something just a little more shocking than...

“Biscuits?” David repeated loudly.

“Shh! Keep it quiet, buddy,” Robbie said, cringing slightly. “We don't want the whole world to hear, you know. What you trying to do, get me into deep water or something?!”

“Biscuits?” David whispered this time. “You're telling me that they're selling biscuits illegally down here? Biscuits?!”

Robbie nodded and shrugged his shoulders.

“I know, it's just so shocking, isn‟t it?” Robbie replied sincerely. “It almost makes me ashamed to be of the same race as them. No other race of creatures seems to have this same problem. It's just so embarrassing for us good animals.”

Somewhere along the line David had a feeling he wasn't quite getting the significance of what Robbie was telling him.

“What's so bad about selling biscuits?” he asked. “I mean, I love biscuits... not that I ever got given too many by my family.”

Robbie gave him a funny look.

“Oh, everybody loves biscuits true enough, don't worry about that,” Robbie said quietly. “It's just that, well, Overworld biscuits have rather a peculiar effect on us animals. Take dog biscuits, for example – now, I used to love getting those from your family. I'd do just about anything to get my mouth round one of those bad boys.” Robbie stared off wistfully into space for a moment then shook his head briskly, clearing the illicit thought away. “Those biscuits would just make me feel out of this world for a short while,” he continued. “Trouble is, they're very addictive, though. If anyone came up offering them to me, I'd be a slave to them until I'd been given the biscuit and chomped it all down. It'd be like I wasn't in control of my body anymore. I'd just be in thrall to the biscuit and whoever was holding it.”

“Wow! I had no idea,” David gasped. “I mean, I used to give them to you all the time.”

“Yeah, I know,” Robbie smiled, though he quickly wiped it off his face. “And I'd do anything to get them, no matter how embarrassing. If I sat on command, I got a biscuit. If I raised a paw to shake hands, I got a biscuit. If I rolled over, I got a biscuit. It was like I was letting the biscuits rule my life. Like I said, I had no control whatsoever.”

David was stunned at his friend's confession. He felt a little ashamed for making Robbie do all those tricks just to get a biscuit. It also maybe explained why Robbie would never do anything unless there was a biscuit on the go to be had.

“And now they're being sold down here?” David asked.

Robbie nodded.

“On every street corner just about,” he admitted. “There's an organised gang that distribute the biscuits brought down from the Overworld. They make an absolute fortune from selling them to us dogs 'cos they know we'll do absolutely anything to get our paws on them. I've heard that prices have become so high that some dogs have turned to crime to get the money to satisfy their cravings for the biscuits. My flat's been broken into twice already this year by dogs desperate to make some money to buy biscuits. It's a growing problem, it really is. And those dealers just laugh at our misery, treating us all just like, well, dogs.”

“Do other animals have the same problem?” David asked.

“Many do,” Robbie replied, nodding his head. “But it's not just dog biscuits. Anything with sugar in it has a similar effect on most animals too. For instance, horses will do anything for sugar cubes. Makes them go all mellow and chilled out, apparently. In the Overworld, humans can get horses to do anything if they give them a sugar cube. All kinds of weird stuff goes on when that happens. And then there's chocolate biscuits – every animal gets a real buzz from those. But they are very dangerous, though. I'm not even going to tell you about the kind of effect marshmallow on biscuits can have. Nightmarish to say the least.”

David was gob-smacked. He had no idea that biscuits could be such a huge problem. Suddenly everything just seemed that little bit more sinister down here in the Underworld, and if biscuits could cause such distress to so many animals, then he wondered what effect other things he took for granted might have in this world too.

“Anyway, it's not a problem for well-behaved dogs like me and most others,” Robbie said, trying to brighten the gloom that had descended on David. “A lot of us have learned the error of our ways and have turned our backs on biscuits for good. It's really just a minority that it affects the worst, spoiling things for everyone else. But, then, I guess that's just the way life seems to work, isn't it?”

David looked back down the street and could just about make out the bar and the Rottweiler in the far distance. Another dog – a young pup – was ambling across the street towards the Rottweiler. The Rottweiler appeared to be licking his lips and, stepping aside, guided the naive young pup into the alleyway. David looked away again, saddened by the sight.

“I think we should just keep moving,” Robbie said. “You must be getting hungry now and it's not too far from here to my home.”

Still troubled by the truth about biscuits, David readily agreed and they resumed on their journey. His stomach, as if it had been listening in, rumbled loudly in agreement too.

Tired and sore, David shook his head and, puffing out his cheeks with fatigue, came to a halt halfway up the umpteenth set of stairs they'd been climbing for the last fifteen minutes.

“Is... is it much further, Robbie?” he gasped, struggling to catch his breath,

Somewhere further up the spiralling staircase, Robbie poked his head into his view and looked down on his friend.

“Sorry, buddy, what was that?” he barked down, his voice echoing up and down the stairwell.

David could feel a stitch beginning to develop in his side and looked forlornly up at his companion.

“I... I just need a second or two to... to... to catch my breath,” he said, wheezing slightly as the stitch really began to kick in. “Are we... are we nearly at your flat yet?”

Robbie scampered down the stairs on all four legs and sat on one of the steps just next to David.

“It's just another few floors up,” he said, “but I guess we can slow down a little. I guess it's harder for you climbing up all these steep stairs on two legs than it is for me to do so on four. Four-legged drive is definitely better than two, after all.” Robbie grinned and wagged his tail happily. “There's a small window just slightly further up which gives a great view out over Partytown and some of the neighbouring areas, if you think you can manage it? It's worth the effort, I reckon.”

David took a deep breath and nodded. Robbie pushed himself back onto all four feet and scampered up the stairs once more, stopping every now and then to look over his shoulder to check that David was still with him. Despite still being slightly out of breath – slightly meaning almost completely, in his case – David was right behind him this time. And David was pleased to note that Robbie had been right enough – not far up the staircase was a small landing in the centre of which there was a window set at a nice height for him into the outer wall of the stairwell. Robbie stood up on two legs and took a quick peep out the window, his tail suddenly wagging ten-to-the-dozen.

“Sure takes your breath away looking out at it all on a beautiful day like this,” he said, moving to one side to make room for David to see.

Putting both hands on the windowsill to steady himself, David stood up on his tiptoes and looked out through the window. And, boy, was Robbie right again. It was a spectacular view and then some!

Far below them, Partytown lay spread out in all directions, reaching as far as the edge of a great sprawling forest with towering trees which dominated much of the skyline beyond the city. High above the tallest trees, however, David could see an endless sea of snow-capped mountains that appeared to be hazy blue in colour. To the west of Partytown ran a high embankment on which there were buildings that, from seeing them more closely earlier in the day, David immediately recognised as being on the High Street. The towering gold building of the Animal Union, in particular, looked even more impressive viewed from a distance than it had done from close up. And that really was saying something.

“Wow! What a view!” David exclaimed, stunned by the sheer beauty of everything that was the Underworld.

“Yeah, it's pretty amazing,” his friend agreed. “It's just a shame that it's somewhat spoiled by what's –“ Robbie put a paw on David's head and gently turned it so it faced east – “over there!”

Like a horrible black gash on the land, a vast hole, greater in size than Partytown itself, dominated everything in sight to the east. Black smoke belched out from the centre of the hole, rising high into the air to join the masses of dark clouds which hung forebodingly over the whole grisly area. It looked like the ground itself surrounding the hole had been blackened and horribly scarred for miles in every direction. At the very edge of the hole were a number of huge wooden machines the like of which David had never seen in his entire life, each of which was being used to haul up black rock from deep down in the hole. And operating these machines were a number of the ugliest creatures and monsters that David had ever seen. Tall stick-like creatures with long arms and long fingers worked a number of levers on these dark machines, swinging huge claw-like grabbers down and up out of the hole, carrying and releasing huge chunks of rock and dirt into a vast array of waiting carts. Huge muscle-bound troll giants, each standing taller than three men, hauled the carts of black rock along a path cut ruggedly into the ground before dumping them at the foot of a huge mountain, composed entirely of more of the same black rock, that rose ominously in the far distance. In the very far distance, peering out from behind the mountain, was a dark gothic-style building that would have overlooked the whole area had it not been partially obscured from view. Somewhere just behind this eerie building, a great fire burned, sending pillars of black smoke into the polluted air that spread out like a diseased cloud over the whole nightmarish scene.

“What ... what on earth is that?!” David gasped, recoiling in horror.

“That, my friend, is the Gulag,” Robbie said, heavily emphasising the last word. “That nightmare is the place where Underworlders get sent when they have broken the law or committed some other offence deemed worthy of such an awful, awful punishment. Believe me when I say it's pretty much the most horrific place in existence anywhere in the whole universe. Every Underworlder with even an ounce of intelligence fears the Gulag more than anything else, because we all know that those who are sent there are doomed to stay there, serving its master, for all eternity. No one gets out once they've gone in. Not ever. When you humans talk about Hell, David, the Gulag is pretty much the kind of place you're talking about.”

David gulped.

“What's with the big hole?” he asked.

Robbie glanced over his shoulder at the dark hole and then looked again at David, shrugging his shoulders as he did so.

“It's called The Bottomless Pit,” he replied. “But no one really know why it's being dug. All I know is that if you get sent to the Gulag you are forced down into the pit and made to dig, dig, and dig some more. If you want to know why a hole's being dug, you'd have to go and ask Big Red. He's the being that rules the Gulag. Legend has it that he first appeared in the Underworld not long after the humans were given control of the Overworld, thousands of years ago. He was a real bad sort by all accounts. A very furious, angry and violent being. Some say he was a demon expelled from the Unsaid One's realm shortly after his defeat by the Almighty One after an attempted uprising. Anyway, no one knows why but rumour has it that one day Big Red just snapped, said something like 'It is here' and just started digging at the spot at which the pit now lies. Over time, he convinced the authorities that working for him would be the ideal way for criminals and such like to rehabilitate and serve sentence for the crimes, and so, from that point on, every convicted criminal gets sent to work for him, digging at the bottom of the hole. Of course, no one who has gone into the hole has ever come back up out of it again to tell us anything about it. They say, if they that start all these rumours can be believed, that it's deeper than the combined height of all of those mountains you see to the north, and that some of the poor people down there haven't seen sunlight in hundreds, if not thousands, of years because the hole's just too deep for sunlight to reach them. It's just the worst place in all creation – end of story.” Robbie's voice drifted off and there was a distant look in his eyes for a moment. “Pray that you never end up there, David,” he continued, putting his paws on David's slender shoulders and looking earnestly into his eyes. “Your family is terrible, no other word for them, but being forced down into the Bottomless Pit for all eternity is a fate worse than spending a lifetime underneath Kim's bum. Death, itself, would be a kinder fate, believe me.”

David nodded but his mind was elsewhere, pondering something.

“But why is Big Red digging the hole?” he asked.

“Who knows?” Robbie replied. “He has never told anyone, and he never leaves the Gulag these days, so no one gets the chance to ask him about it. Not that anyone really wants to speak to him, truth be told – like I said before, he's a nasty sort is Big Red. Anyway, rumour has it that he just spends all his time in his dark castle over there –” Robbie pointed out the dark building David had noticed earlier – “just waiting for more victims to be sent his way so he can force them down to do his bidding at the bottom of the pit. Believe me, you never ever want to meet him for real, because if you do then you know you're in a big heap of trouble. It'll be game over for your life if that happens, buddy. One of my friends once got caught with some biscuits in his possession and he got sent to Big Red for punishment. Never heard anything about him since, then. I guess he must have been sent down into the Bottomless Pit, poor guy.”

“But doesn't anyone question what Big Red‟s doing?” David asked, horrified that anyone could abuse people in such a way.

Robbie shook his head.

“No one dares defy him. Legend has it that he has great powers and has the ability to control people's minds. Everyone is scared of him.” Robbie paused for a moment. “Well, just about everybody. Tony, who owns the big casino in town, doesn't seem to be scared of him in the slightest. In fact, he's openly dismissive of Big Red and his Gulag. But apart from him, no one has the guts to speak out against him, let alone try to stop him.”

“Gosh, it just all sounds so awful!” David exclaimed, craning his neck out the window to have another look at the dreaded Gulag.

“Yeah, you got that right, buddy.”

Dropping down onto all four legs again, Robbie nosed David on the back of his leg to grab his attention.

“Come on, buddy. That's more than enough doom and gloom for now. Thinking too much about the misery of the Gulag can really bring you down. Besides, my flat is just a few floors away now and I can already smell my friends cooking dinner. And, believe me, it smells darn good, buddy!”

David took one last lingering look at the Gulag and the Bottomless Pit and shuddered at the prospect of spending all eternity down there. Lowering himself down from the window, he turned and started to follow Robbie up the last few floors to his home.

The Gulag troubled him deeply, though. It was the place he remembered that Eric seemed to fear more than anything, and if his presence in the Underworld could lead to Eric ending up in the Gulag, then maybe going back to the Overworld was the best thing for all concerned. Even Kim wasn't as bad as the Gulag seemed to be.