Sir Cobb's Problem or So What Now?

"That was a lot of work for only half as much as I earned yesterday," Frederick complained.

"Look on the bright side," the tavern keeper said. "You only look half as battered for your troubles."

Frederick was dismayed to note that cage-fighting had now settled into his conscious mind as an everyday occurrence. In Frederick's mind earning money from fighting was the kind of thing a scoundrel would do, and he didn't like to think of himself as a scoundrel. Unfortunately saving maidens from dragons was work as badly paying as it was rare in the days following the Great Vanishing.

"I have to be quite glad that you are too clumsy to actually be able to hit me," said a voice behind Frederick. Frederick turned to take in the ever-present lopsided smirk on the morally ambiguous face of Harvey Raine.

"You were watching?" Frederick asked.

"When you said you were going to spend the evening in a cage with a number of large gentlemen who would like nothing better than to hit you in the face until your teeth rattled I just had to come along," Harvey said. "Phoebe was glad to see the back of me for a few hours. I have to say that although the random violence was entertaining I wasn't expecting you to come out of it quite so... unscathed."

"It's not supposed to be entertaining," Frederick said, in brave but pointless opposition to the actual process of fighting on a stage under bright lights and having each bout announced.. "Come on, we'd better get back to the Inn."

"I think you might be misunderstanding where the six crowns you're currently holding came from," Harvey taunted Frederick but Frederick was already halfway towards the main entrance.

If Frederick had hoped that Harvey might shut the hell up as they made their way out into the street he was to be disappointed. In a corner of his mind that he had never used much growing up Frederick knew that Harvey wouldn't shut his mouth until he'd elicited some sort of angry response from Frederick. This was one of Harvey's favourite games.

"Still, that last chap, he did get a couple of solid head blows in," Harvey continued as they walked down the street towards the market square. "Good job he didn't get you anywhere important, eh, Freddie?"

The words 'don't call me Freddie' were so eager to escape from Frederick's tongue that he actually had to bite down to stop them from coming out. The pain of biting into soft parts of his own anatomy wasn't as sharp as a few of the strikes he'd suffered during the evening's bouts.

The stony silence, unfortunately, had seemingly no effect on Harvey. The djinn was long lived and used to tormenting people, he was pretty much an expert at going at someone until they collapsed into a ball of fury.

"I have to say, Freddie," Harvey continued, how the irritating sprite knew to continue with the hated contraction of Frederick's name probably came down to an almost imperceptible reflex twitch in one of Frederick's facial muscles. "I was impressed by exactly how much damage you avoided taking. I just thought you were some hopeless wannabe. Turns out you're actually a second-rate practitioner. I don't know many people for whom mediocrity would be a step up but to a certain degree I think you should be proud."

Frederick had never previously met anyone like Harvey. The only hope Frederick had of not being taunted by the djinn was if there was some novel opportunity for Harvey to annoy someone else entirely. When no such opportunity presented itself Harvey's taunting of Frederick was merciless.

"Harvey," Frederick said, trying to remain calm but not doing terribly well at the job, "why do you have to insult me all the time?"

The same corner of the mind that had known what Harvey was up to all along threw its hands up in horror at that open invitation, but it was too late, it had been issued.

"Insult you?" Harvey asked, as if that had been the last thing on his little mischief fuelled mind. "Freddie I was just pontificating out loud, sharing my inner thoughts. I don't know what it is you could possibly find to get insulted about in that."

The rest of Frederick's mind gave up on trying to make any sense out of the situation at that point. Frederick turned on his heel to put Harvey behind him and strode off in the direction of the Gryphon's Wing.

Harvey followed along and continued to insult Frederick's name and his competence at knightly activities while, at the same time, conceding that it surprised Harvey that Frederick could even muster the ability to beat people to a pulp in a cage fight. Frederick seemed to have plateaued in a condition of not really paying much attention to this babble and he did notice a distinct drop off in the viciousness and originality of Harvey's barbs.

It was with some satisfaction that Frederick gave Harvey a pointed glare when they reached the threshold of the inn. Harvey grudgingly turned into cat form and allowed himself to be picked up by Frederick. Normally there was no way that Harvey would endure such an imposition but he was under an injunction from Phoebe that could not be resisted.

Phoebe was sitting in the lounge of the inn doing something witchy with a number of pebble sized cut crystals and a cloth with a diagram on it. As soon as she was in sight Harvey hopped out of Frederick's arms and went to sit next to her. Frederick put his coin purse on the table.

"That should see us right for a couple of days," he said, sitting opposite her.

"Then what?" Phoebe asked.

"Well, I guess I'll have to find some more work to do wherever we are," Frederick replied.

"No," Phoebe said, wearing the face that she always wore when Frederick had singularly failed to grasp the thrust of her point. "I mean, what are we going to do? And where are we going to do it?"

"Um," Frederick said. He had made the breakthrough of realising that he wasn't following Phoebe's train of thought but he had no idea what to ask her to get her to make sense. "I, uh, don't exactly know what you, uh..."

"Frederick," Phoebe said. "I think we have to face facts. We joined forces to reunite a little girl and her, uh, mouse, father... mouse-father. That mission has been accomplished, as far as we can tell. Now we each have our own things to be getting on with and... well, don't you think you'd be better off without us hanging around, slowing you down," she looked down at Harvey, "annoying you?"

Frederick could only muster a blink in response to this query. He hadn't really devoted much thought to the matter. He remembered being on his own, miserable, walking around from place to place, earning some scraps of money cage fighting or killing vermin, then he had fallen through a hole in reality and found himself the sidekick to the most celebrated hero in the long history of Faerie.

After that he had taken a long journey alone through a very strange place that ended with his opportunity to prove his knightly credentials by killing an evil sorcerer. Finally he experienced a brief stint in a jail cell in Hamsamperburg where he was arrested for vagrancy and then condemned to burn at the stake as a witch when he explained his situation to the locals. It was during this incarceration that he came to the conclusion that spending too much time on your own made you go a bit funny.

Thankfully, at that point, he had been rescued by Lester, James, Phoebe and the delightful Princess Anabyl. His magic sword, now imbued with the power of speech, was returned to him and from that point on he had been part of the team.

If you'd asked him what he thought the team's overall mission and direction should be, or would be in the future, he wouldn't know. All that he did know was that is was his team and he was happy to be a part of it. He was, in fact, so happy to be a part of it that he hadn't noticed its shrinkage to the point where it could no longer really be called a team any more.

In its current state 'the team' was him, Phoebe and Harvey, which made for two and a half team members, because Harvey was compelled to be present and did his best to sabotage them wherever possible. Also, Frederick had to concede, the idea that a team should have a mission, purpose and direction was a good one.

Frederick had set out to be a wandering knight for hire but, at this stage, he had so done that it wasn't even funny. The next thing that he ought to do was seek a place at the round table of the nearest royal personage who was in the hiring mood. The only problem with that was that most monarchs currently engaged in war were of the evil variety and Frederick was very much looking for a position as a white knight.

So his options were to resume wandering, or to stay with Phoebe and Harvey. The only issue being that Phoebe and Harvey wanted to go their own way. Frederick could not, off the top of his head, think of a knightly reason why he should stay with Phoebe and Harvey. He could think of plenty of personal ones, but knights did not do things for personal reasons, they did things because of their code.

What did Frederick's code have to say on the matter?

That was yet another awkward question. Frederick had never been much for scribing, or any other type of academics. His code boiled down to: 'Try to be nice and make yourself useful'. As filled with benevolent good intention as this was it did not compel him to remain in the company of a powerful newly not-dead witch and her djinn. They didn't even need his help to protect them from anything, having, as they did, a scary abundance of magical power between the two of them.

In wandering through this tangled maze of desire and motivation Frederick did manage to come up with a half-hearted attempt at a response:

"So, what are you going to do next?" he asked. This did not actually commit to the new 'go our separate ways' plan while also being an attempt to discover whether they had any plans which could be considered mutual.

Phoebe sighed.

"Well, I imagine I will have to go back to Vikor's castle... the remains of Vikor's castle, and get the amulet from about the skeleton's neck," Phoebe said. "Until that's broken Harvey and I are bonded together and, well, I don't think that's best for anyone."

"I... see..." Frederick said. "Well, that should be... I mean... I hope that all goes well for you."

"I'm sure you have some knightly things to be getting on with," Phoebe said. "So we shouldn't really delay you, should we?"

Frederick's answer to this question was interrupted by the sudden and unexpected arrival at their table of a worried looking goblin trader. The one who had been with the little girl, the one Harvey had whisked away from the House of Mirth back to Steephill Fell: Tabarnas.

"You two are still here," Tabarnas said. "That's excellent news."

"It is?" Phoebe asked. "Why?"

"Something's happening, to my books," Tabarnas said. "It's making me very worried."

"Your books?" Frederick asked.

"I didn't know you worked any magic," Phoebe said.

"Oh, I don't," Tabarnas replied. "Other than the magic of storytelling. I have a weakness for written tales, you see. So I have, along life's journey, furnished the shelves of a small library, mostly chronicles, mostly Avan Weatherstrong stories."

"So what's the problem?" Frederick asked.

"I have three new books, books I have never read, books that are not about Avan Weatherstrong," Tabarnas said.

"And?" Frederick asked, he was trying not to sound impatient but his hope that this interruption would provide reason for the party to stay together was fading fast.

"These books are a four volume work that describe the heroic ascendance, adventures and tragic demise of a female Dragon Warrior," Tabarnas said. "I only mention it because some of us feature in the prologue."

"Some of us?" Phoebe interrupted. "As in some of us here at the table?"

"Specifically yourself," Tabarnas said, nodding his head and making eye contact with Phoebe, he transferred his gaze to Frederick. "And you. The cat doesn't come into it, neither do I. I just thought you ought to know."

"So in this story, at some point in the future," Frederick said. "We are destined to encounter this dragon warrior?"

"No, that's not it," Tabarnas said. "The implication of this summary of the warrior's early life is that she met you both whilst she was very young."

Phoebe and Frederick exchanged a glance.

"You don't mean-" Phoebe began.

"See, the warrior used a magic spade, so it's said, to liberate you, Miss September," Tabarnas said. "And she provided some assistance in freeing you from a jail cell, so it says, following a journey through a magic mirror, following a regrettable instance with a bow and arrow, so the story goes, anyway."

Tabarnas reached into his overcoat and struggled to pull out a bound pile of books from an enormous interior pocket. He placed the volumes on the table and Frederick and Phoebe read the title of the topmost tome:

The Life and Death of Anabyl, Fiercest of the Dragon Warriors, Volume I

It appeared that Frederick had found some small reason why they might want to remain a team. The Life of Anabyl wasn't so much of a problem, but the death... They would have to study further, and see if such a death was preventable, and, if it was, they would have to prevent it. The how and the where of it were details that would come again, upon another day.

The First Eyrie

"Owls," James said, a word that seemed, to Lester, to be pretty much apropos of nothing.

"Where?" Lester said, making a guess that Lester was referring to some owls that might be somewhere nearby.

"Here," James said. "Or at least they used to be. I recognise this place from pictures. It's the First Eyrie."

"Oh," Lester said. "Good. So how far until we get somewhere less... remote? Ideally a place that is less imbued with feelings of lurking menace."

"James!" Rachel cried out running over to join the pair standing among the perches on the enormous stone slab. "You're safe."

"Yes, uh, yes Rachel, I am safe and well," James said. Lester believed that he detected a note of awkwardness in James's voice.

Without even saying 'hello' or 'how do you do' Rachel dipped her hand into Lester's pocket and fished the mouse out. She held James up to her face, wreathed in smiles.

"Well," she said. "This has been a fine adventure, but I think, perhaps, it is time we found our way home."

"I couldn't agree more," James said.

"Well, we'll wait for the gnome to wake up and I'll get him to take us home, or we can just get some directions," Rachel said.

"You meant the Skull Garden, didn't you?" James asked.

"Well, that's home," Rachel said. "I think we've been wandering around for too long now, although, to be fair, I mostly stayed in Bridgetown Market, it was you that travelled."

"Yes, I did," James said. "And I discovered a few things."

"Oh yes," Rachel said. "Like what?"

"Like..." James gave the sentence a short run up but it appeared to be a particularly tall sentence so it wasn't enough. The words sank back down into his throat as soon as they'd emerged.

Lester swapped a glance with Eos, who looked back at him with a cold gaze. He had to remind himself that he'd been the one who had played along with keeping her in captivity, if only for about three hours. Three hours was plenty to liberate an imprisoned mermaid. No one felt the sting of that more than Lester, well, possibly Eos did.

Right at this moment, however, there was one more pressing emotional concern. James had remembered, during his time with Lester, that he was Rachel's father, transformed into this rodent form, memory wiped and dumped into the Skull Garden. This was bound to be a charged moment, Lester could feel the air of anticipation like a low charge of plasma squirming across his skin.

"Well," James said, Lester recognised the music of that syllable, it was the lost, confused and helpless tone that Lester found so irritating in himself. "I remembered that... I don't come from the Skull Garden..."

"You don't?" Rachel said. "So where do you come from? Can we go and live there? Is there a giant bat where you come from?"

"Um, I don't think so," James said. "I just remembered that, and also, I used to be a man, not a mouse."

"A man? So how did you become a mouse?" Rachel asked.

"I don't really know, I don't remember everything yet," James said. Lester could now hear a sort of forlorn relief in James's voice and Lester imagined that he might know what that meant, although he couldn't quite believe it.

"Well we should definitely try to get you turned back," Rachel decided. "Then you could be like my big brother or something. Maybe you could take care of me, instead of the other way round."

"Yes," James said quietly. "Maybe."

And then he said nothing else, and neither did any of the others.

"Well," Eos said eventually. "I guess that we'd better have a look around this place, see if we can find an exit or something."

"Definitely," James said.

"What about the gnome?" Rachel asked. "He doesn't look very well."

Everyone turned their attention in the direction of the gnome who was laid out, unconscious under a perch about fifteen feet away from where they had gathered. They all moved over to examine the sprite.

"Is he breathing?" Lester asked Eos who was the first to reach the prone figure.

"I don't think sprites breathe," James said from Rachel's left shoulder. Lester found it both less annoying and a little sad not to hear the correction directly from his own left shoulder. Now that he had his daughter back Lester imagined James wouldn't want to hang out in Lester's pockets any more. That shouldn't have really meant anything to Lester, but he was confused to note that it did.

"How should we tell if he's alive then?" Eos asked, looking down at the gnome's bearded face.

"He exists," James said. "Technically I don't think you're supposed to be able to render them unconscious."

"So he's pretending then?" Lester asked.

"No," James said. "Magic: pure, coalesced, intelligent magic is a complex. What we're seeing is not an unconscious living being, we're seeing a translation of the state of the magic into our terms. So in our terms the thing that is the gnome is unconscious, unable to interact with us but still present and whole."

"So how do we wake him up?" Eos asked.

"That, unfortunately, I don't know," James said.

"You seem to know a lot more about everything than you did when I left you, though," Rachel said. "So that's a good thing."

"Is it?" James asked Rachel. "Sometimes I'm not so sure."

"Sometimes," Lester said, although even he couldn't quite figure out why. "What you remember is that you have, oh, I don't know, a huge secret or something."

Lester then got the opportunity to add 'pointed glare' to the number of facial expressions he had now seen first hand that probably had never been observed previously on a mouse.

"Yes, well," James said loudly before anyone could respond to Lester's comment with anything awkward or troubling. "We could have a look around for some smelling salts or something. That might help."

"I thought you said it couldn't breathe," Eos said. "How would smelling salts help it?"

"Like I said, it's magic translated into a physical being, sometimes the translation works both ways, it's a kind of interaction of archetypal metaphors."

James paused long enough to realise that no one had any idea what it was he had just said.

"Trust me," James said. "We can try smelling salts, they may work."

"You're much smarter than you used to be," Rachel said. "That's cute."

With that they all made a move away from the gnome to look for smelling salts.

"Wait!" Eos said before they could go four paces. "We really can't just wander off and leave the gnome by himself. I'll stay."

"You shouldn't stay alone," Lester said. "I'll just go and have a look for something, you all stay here."

"I should go with you," James said. "I might be able to spot useful things."

"I'm not leaving you," Rachel said. "I'll have to go too."

"But I already said," Lester said. "We shouldn't leave Eos to watch the gnome by herself."

"Then you stay," Rachel said. "I'll take James to look for the smelly things."

Although the logic appeared sound Lester didn't exactly relish being left alone with Eos at the moment.

"This is a strange place," Lester said. "A little girl and a mouse can't walk about it by themselves."

"We're adventurers," Rachel said, sticking out her bottom lip. "We can do what we like."

"Well, if you like to get eaten by monsters in strange castles that's certainly true," Lester said.

"Lester!" James said. "There's no need to be unpleasant. Okay, look, Rachel, I promise we are not going to be split up. I'll go with Lester and have a look around for some smelling salts, or anything else that might help the gnome wake up. Once we've revived the gnome we'll get out of here, together. I promise."

"But..." Rachel said, her bottom lip was now quivering, and her eyes shone with tears. "We've... we've only just found one another. What if there's another broom?"

"Lester," James said, "despite appearances to the contrary, is a smart cookie, he'd never been caught on a flying broom before but he never ever makes the same mistake twice. You're just going to have to trust us."

Rachel miserably acquiesced to this and passed James over to Lester. The two of them skirted the edge of the stone slab and, before too long, found a set of steps down on one side. The view around the other four edges of the slab told them that this perch was built high up near the top of a mountain on a small shelf of rock.

Underneath the slab was a single layer of domestic type rooms, a dormitory, a living area and a kitchen. Most of it was abandoned and bare but the kitchen still had some bits and pieces left in the cupboards and shelves.

"So," Lester said, as he gathered together all the items they had discovered onto a small table. "You didn't tell her."

"I don't want to talk about it," James said.

"Well, I do," Lester said. For some reason James's cowardice, as he saw it, had really upset him. Lester was not a man given to deep moods but in this instance he was certainly approaching something like anger on the topic. "Until now we've been in a very similar position, you lost your daughter, I lost my brother. Now you have your daughter and you begin the reunion by lying to her. I just... don't think it's the right thing to do, that's all."

"Well, what if I don't care about your opinion one way or another?" James asked.

"That's not the point," Lester said. "You can't agree or disagree with the right thing to do. In the end telling lies to someone you love is always the wrong thing to do."

"I'm not sure that's true," James said. "I think sometimes things are more complicated than they might first appear."

"Oh what nonsense!" Lester replied. "You think it's the best thing to lie to people? I don't. When Chester left on his great adventure he promised me that he would write to me every week. He promised me he would be home soon. He promised me that he knew what he was doing. All lies. I'm sure he would probably have said he was doing the right thing but it wasn't was it? Now he's disappeared and all I have left of my brother is this stupid bottle of - oh!"

As Lester fumbled in his breast pocket the vial of liquid flew from his grasp, spinning end over end through the air.

"Wurgh!" Lester cried out stepping forward, stretching out his arm to attempt a mid-air catch.

The first step turned into a second wobbling grasp as the vial remained enticingly out of reach. With the second step Lester's hand brushed the vial altering its trajectory. Trying to adjust course as he went Lester tangled his ankles and dove down at full strength, determined not to lose the only clue he had to his brother's whereabouts.

Lester heard James squeaking and felt the mouse's claws digging into his neck. The little mouse was clinging on for dear life as Lester crashed into the floor. The vial of liquid fell into Lester's outstretched palm and he curled his fingers, attempting to grasp the vial firmly. All he succeeded in doing was providing a ramp for the vial, powered by inertia, to run up before it flew a few more inches through the air to tap delicately against the stone floor of the kitchen.

The vial didn't shatter but a spider web of cracks spread out through its bottom half. The, now delicate, vial rolled to a stop, whole but not to be trusted, a few inches further on from Lester's position.

"Oh dear," James said.

"Not good," Lester said. "Really not good."

"Well, there is a small up side," James replied. "We are in a kitchen, however abandoned that kitchen may be. We should be able to locate some alternative vessel for the potion, if we're careful."

"Careful," Lester said, like the word tasted bad, "Right, careful."

Lester picked up the vial with a suitable amount of care and attention. He placed it, and James onto the nearby countertop.

"Hold on to this, very gently," Lester said. "I'm just going to find something to decant the potion into."

"Okay," James said, placing his paws onto the cracked surface of the vial. The cracks were so fine that even James could not really detect them by touch, only by looking at their gossamer white threads promising that, at any moment, the vial could shatter soaking its valuable contents into the wooden surface below.

"You know," James said, as Lester rooted through a cupboard filled with junk, "this could be the moment your brother referred to in his note, the one where you're supposed to drink the contents of the vial."

"You reckon?" Lester asked.

"Well, it would be one way to ensure that the contents would end up in their ultimate destination, i.e. your stomach," James pointed out.

"Don't you think that's a bit... arbitary?" Lester asked.

"To be honest," James said. "I find the whole business of gnomic prophecy to be a bit... eep."

"A bit eep?" Lester said. "I don't know that word. Is that another one of those terms from your place of origin, like interweb?"

James did not reply because James was looking into the shining, yellow, hungry eyes of the thing that had made him go eep. The shining, yellow, hungry eyes of a rugged looking tabby tom cat.

"Lester," James said, his voice low and urgent. "You might want to come and get the vial."

"Why?" Lester said standing up and seeing the unfolding drama of survival taking place on the nearby counter top.

"Because..." James said, as Lester hurried forward anticipating the probable impending second disaster, "I... think... I'm... about... to... have... to..."

Lester, showing a reflexive dexterity wholly absent from his last encounter with the forces of inertia and gravity, snatched the flying vial out of the air as James tossed it and scampered off toward the edge of the counter. Lester swiped out with his spare hand but it was just a little too slow to catch the, now energised, tom cat.

The stocky feline form exhibited surprising speed as it loped after James who was pelting hell for leather towards the end of the counter with no seeming plan for what to do when he reached his destination. Lester watched on in awe as James leapt from the end of the counter to dig his little rodent claws into the trailing edge of a dishrag which swung once forward and then once back before James hurled himself from the zenith of the rag's forward journey once more to land on the counter at the far end of the kitchen and lose himself in the pile of broken kitchen utensils someone had left there.

Undeterred the tomcat followed, keeping its eyes down and plodding amongst the twisted metal remains of pots, pans and various large utensils on its quest for fresh mouse.

"Keep moving, James," Lester said, trying to sneak up on the tom from behind. "Keep moving."

Lester could not see James, but then neither could the cat, as Lester came up behind the predatory beast. Lester attempted to pick the tom up by the scruff of the neck, but the cat was too fast for him. It wheeled around, eyes wide, mouth open, hissing and spitting at Lester. Lester, startled, recoiled from the creature's flashing white claws.

"Well," James cried, "here goes nothing."

Lester tore his attention away from the growling tom cat to see that James had reached an area near the wash basin. Stringing some dirty elastic between the exposed prongs of a ricer that had lost its head James had quickly improvised a kind of slingshot by wedging the ricer's handle into a slightly open drawer adjacent to the sink.

James pulled back on the elastic as far as he could before quickly spinning around in his 'seat' and being hurled from the counter all the way over to the opposite side of the room. He landed on top of a handle placed next to the hatch for some sort of dumb-waiter type device.

Despite the evident acrobatic impressiveness of this move the tom had since lost interest in James, continuing, as it did, to growl at Lester. James is safe, I guess, Lester thought, I'm not sure I am. No sooner had the thought formed than the aggressive feline launched itself at Lester's head, hissing and spitting. Lester braced himself for a face full of angry cat and was amazed when the animal failed to make contact.

"Oh," Lester heard James's voice filled with surprise. "Well, I guess that's okay then."

Lester opened his eyes, the tom was nowhere to be seen.

"Did it vanish?" Lester asked, somewhat befuddled.

"No, it's behind you," James said. "Just passed straight through your head."

"Passed straight..." Lester turned to see the cat sitting behind him, regarding him with naked, impotent hatred. "I don't understand," Lester said.

"I think it's dead," James said. "I think that's a ghost cat."

"A ghost cat?" Lester sounded shocked. "Can cats have ghosts?"

"Apparently they can here," James replied. "Oh, well, no harm, no foul, come get me and we'll... oh."

"No," Lester said. "Not, oh, we've had enough oh for today and I'm putting on an oh embargo. An embarg-oh, if you... oh."

"With a creaking, clanking slow inevitablity the lever next to the dumb waiter that Lester had landed on began to descend. Lester hurried over and scooped the mouse up before he could tumble off the end of the lever onto the floor. The lever, once it had started its journey, continued to move downwards until it had locked in the downward position.

"I guess that just brings the dumbwaiter up," Lester said. Examining the area around the device. "Probably nothing to... ah."

"Ah?" James said. "'Ah' is worse than 'oh', any man who says otherwise is a liar. What's the matter?"

Lester crossed to the dumb waiter and pressed a button next to the hatch immediately to the left of the lever that had just been activated. There was the slow and grinding noise of machinery operating behind the hatch. Eventually a broken bell sounded an off-key ping behind the hatch.

"I think that's the dumb waiter control," Lester said

"So what does that lever control then?" James asked.

Any answer was cut off by the sound of a low and eerie moan echoing up into the eyrie from some place far below thier feet.

"You had to ask, didn't you?" Lester said.

"I think, maybe," James answered. "It might be time for us to leave."

And so they did, but what happened after, and the tale of Saeed and Prince Weatherstrong catching the dastardly Miranda Felix, and the story of Phoebe September ridding herself of her burden and the answer to the question of how story books can change by themselves will all be told in another time and place, for the candle is low and it is, most assuredly, now time for bed.

END OF BOOK TWO

Chaos in Dracopolis

"I will have your head, mighty Prince!" the lead troll bellowed. It lifted the broadsword snatched from the hands of one of the Dracopolis Prison Guard and lifted it, preparing to cut Avan Weatherstrong's head from his shoulders. Avan struggled against the two trolls who were holding his arms but the situation was hopeless.

Saeed had seen enough. He lit the tip of the sparkle tube and threw it down on the floor in front of the troll. The troll paused, looking down to see the last inch of the fuse disappear in a curl of smoke. That was the last part of the before that Saeed could watch before he had to close his eyes tightly.

Saeed heard the sparkle tube explode and the sudden cries of alarm from the gang of trolls who had ambushed Avan at the crossroads. Only when the glow of light had faded a little from its initial intensity did Saeed risk opening his eyes.

It appeared that Avan had noted the sparkle tube and just managed to close his own eyes before the contents of the small alchemical device had ignited. He had managed to twist out of the grip of the trollish henchmen and was even now choking one of them into unconsciousness.

Saeed smiled to himself and dropped down from the rooftop to join in the fray. Blind trolls were still dangerous but both Saeed and the Prince had received training in unarmed combat, the trolls could only crush their opponents if they could find them. Neither Prince nor thief were stupid enough to allow themselves to be caught.

After the trolls were unconscious and restrained the problems began.

"You're following me," Avan said to Saeed, his tone cold.

"You were in trouble, I thought I could lend some assistance," Saeed replied.

"I have never needed assistance before," Avan said.

"Well, there's always a first time," Saeed responded. "I'm sorry that I acted rashly and was played for a fool. I have been long away from Faerie, studying in a strange city beyond the edges of reality. I was arrogant to think that I was the most sophisticated thief in all of these lands."

"You were," Avan said, Saeed believed that he detected an infinitesimal softening in the Prince's tone.

"I have never made the same mistake twice, Prince Weatherstrong," Saeed said. "Please, let me help you set things right."

"I suppose that it would do little good for me to refuse," Avan sighed. "Don't make the mistake of thinking that I couldn't escape you. I can't both escape you and defend Dracopolis from harm. Once this situation is resolved we shall re-examine our relationship."

"I accept the terms of the agreement," Saeed said as the Prince strode away from the heap of tied up trolls they had left at one corner of the crossroads.

"There's no agreement," Avan said. "Just a statement of the way things are."

"Then I accept the way things are," Saeed replied hastily.

"Well, none of us have much choice about that, do we?" Avan muttered as he reached the edge of a nearby plaza.

Saeed looked over the scene with Avan, everything was not as one could hope. One of the buildings to the eastern edge of the plaza was ablaze. There was no one outside watching the fire, that meant the inhabitants of the building had fled in terror, or something worse.

Saeed could make out the odd motion from the side streets around the plaza but no one was venturing out into the open square. Anyone foolish enough to do so would present too easy a target.

"I was hoping that the guard would have set up a defensive position here," Avan said. "Something must be preventing them from getting this place under control."

"So what do we do?" Saeed asked.

"We'll go to the palace, someone there will be able to tell us what's occupying the guard. The sooner they're free to lock down the city the sooner this will all be over."

So Avan and Saeed made their way carefully towards the central Palace in Dracopolis, the chief residence of the Draco Emperor. Saeed marvelled at how easily the decision to stroll into the palace had come to Avan. Saeed had never met anyone who could just go wherever they pleased before. There was something refreshingly direct about his approach to problem management.

Of course, Saeed considered, as the palace guard waved them through each outer section of the palace in towards the central residence, Avan Weatherstrong was the most heroic figure in the entire history of the Faerie realms. It was no surprise he could just walk into the palace and ask for information. If Saeed had tried this alone he would have been skewered and beheaded by now.

As Saeed was beginning to wonder if they were going to get waved all the way through to the emperor himself the answer to the question was resolved. They were shown into a room where the General in charge of the Palace Guard was poring over a map of the city upon which were arranged a number of models, some like trolls, lizard men and other minor monsters, others were in the shape of Dragon Guards.

There was one model on the table that was white, whilst all the others were carved out of deep grey stone. The white model was a skeletal figure wrapped in a flowing cloak. Many of the guard figures were arranged around that figure but so far away from it that it took Saeed a moment to see the pattern.

"Prince Weatherstrong," the General said, ignoring Saeed entirely, "I am so glad to see you, we really could do with some assistance."

"With this individual I take it?" Avan asked motioning to the white skeleton figure on the map.

The General nodded grimly.

"That is Sergeant-Major Xalotl," the General said. "He's in charge of the City Guard. Sometime shortly after the jail break he became possessed by the spirit of Oban Reif. Reif used Xalotl's body to steal the Star Arrow from the palace vault and escape towards the north."

"So the available Guard are busy tracking him down," Avan said, nodding as he understood what was preventing the guard from taking back the streets.

"To use the Star Arrow, Reif needs the Sky Bow," the General explained further. "That's locked in a vault in the Sapphire Treasure House, we have guards there now, hopefully we'll be able to capture Reif before he gets the bow."

"Is there anything we can do to assist?" Avan asked. "My sword and my companion's wits are at your disposal."

"We really just need Reif stopped," the General said. "Then we can get on with containing the escapees from the jail house."

Avan nodded.

"I take it that if Xalotl can be returned to you unharmed that would be appreciated," he said.

The General pursed his lips and cast a gaze back over the map.

"If the Sky Bow and the Star Arrow fall into the wrong hands," the General said. "The consequences would be grave indeed. Xalotl understands, as we all do, that he has given his life to the protection of the capital."

"I understand," Avan said. "We shall do everything we can to help your people resolve this matter."

And then they were off again. Avan strode purposefully out of the palace with Saeed following along very much in the prince's wake.

"Did you just agree," Saeed asked. "To kill this man who has been possessed?"

"I didn't agree to kill anyone," Avan said. "I don't know what conversation you were listening to."

"It just sounded like..."

"The General is a military man," Avan cut Saeed off. "When it comes to matters such as this he needs to believe that drastic measures are available to the people he trusts."

"So you lied to him?" Saeed asked.

"I never said that I would countenance killing a victim in cold blood," Avan replied. "What he wanted to hear is up to him."

"But what if it does come down to that choice?" Saeed asked. "Retrieve the artefacts or let Xalotl live, not both?"

"Do you feel like the kind of person who would let it get to that point?" Avan asked.

"No, but-"

"Well then," Avan said with an air of finality, "that makes two of us, come on."

The chaos on the streets of Dracopolis was worsening, without the guard's full attention on containing the break out the freed prisoners were running rampant. Saeed had a little experience of dungeons and jail houses so he knew that not every inmate of such a facility was a danger to the common folk. However Saeed also knew that a significant number of them would be, releasing them all onto the streets of a busy city in the hours of darkness could only really have one effect, the one that was playing out before them now.

Saeed was impressed to note that Avan had enough skills in stealth to avoid detection by roving criminals so Saeed and himself made it to the Sapphire Treasure House in under an hour. Fires had been set in several locations across the city, the interplay of firelight and deep shadow served only to give them a larger number of places to hide on their journey.

The Sapphire Treasure House was, in many respects, identical to the Diamond Treasure House where Saeed and Avan had first crossed paths. The main difference was that this treasure house was situated in amongst a bustling nest of small residential dwellings.

As they drew near to the high, forbidding walls of the vault Avan ducked into an alley. Making use of the narrow walls in the space between two houses Avan scaled up to the roof of one of the properties by bracing his legs and arms against the surfaces. The prince made the move look easy, as did Saeed when he followed on behind. Saeed knew that his own proficiency at the action required constant disciplined practice.

Admittedly the prince's own movements were a little less fluid than Saeed's but it was a difference only a professional thief would have noticed. From their new, elevated, position Avan lead Saeed over the roof of the dwelling to jump onto the uneven surface of a nearby, taller wall.

Saeed had to concede the prince some skills again as he scrambled up the surface assuredly, using hand and footholds that most people would not even have noticed. Saeed made up some ground on the prince reaching the top of the wall. Saeed did not allow himself any sense of pride in the achievement, he knew that Avan Weatherstrong was a great sorcerer and a formidable fighter and tactician in addition to his stealth and dexterity. The prince would never win in a thieving contest with Saeed but then, that was not the man's goal.

"What is this building?" Saeed asked quietly as they walked along the edge of the steep sloped roof.

"Temple-Almshouse," Avan replied, "erected in service of Akanno, goddess of the waters. It's the tallest point outside the treasure house walls in this district."

"It's not tall enough to provide us with an entry point to the treasure house," Saeed said.

"Not my intention," Avan said, pulling a pebble-sized roll of bread from a pouch on his belt. He crushed the roll in his hand and sprinkled the crumbs in a little pile towards the lip of the ledge. Following this the prince pulled a small vial of liquid from his pack. He took a sip of the liquid and then drizzled some more over the crumbs, ensuring they were completely soaked.

"Move back," Avan said to Saeed. The prince and the thief retreated into the shadows cast by a belfry in the north east corner of the roof top to wait.

After a few minutes birds began to drop out of the sky and peck at the crumbs. They were small dark birds with odd spiky feathers of a type Saeed had only encountered in the Terra Draconis. Before long a number of the birds had pecked up the crumbs and taken off again.

"So, what now?" Saeed asked.

"Now I can see everything that's going on," Avan said, leaning against the angled slope of the roof. "The effect of the potion lasts almost an hour. You are going to have to help me now."

"What do you want me to do?" Saeed asked.

Avan picked a leather cord up from around his neck. A number of beads were strung off the front, one black, a number of white ones and then one red. Avan took the black bead and the red bead off the cord. He held the black bead out to Saeed.

"Lodge this in your ear," he said.

Saeed did as he was told. Avan popped the red bead into his mouth.

"Now you will be able to hear me wherever you go, until you return the bead to me," Avan explained. His voice had a strange echoing ring to it that Saeed guessed was coming from the bead in his ear. "The birds have already shown me Xalotl. How long will it take you to reach that house over there. The one with the spiraled ornament on the northern ridge." Avan pointed to a house in the distance.

"A minute, no more," Saeed replied.

"Xalotl will reach that location in just under half that, be swift," Avan instructed. "Try to render him unconscious. Do not hurt him. Once the body is down put this in his mouth until the jewel glows blue." Avan handed Saeed a small totem figure with a very large head. A small black gemstone was lodged in to a head band carved at the top.

Saeed didn't ask any questions, he just grabbed the totem and set off at full pelt across the rooftops to his intended destination. Although he was faster than he had ever been before Xalotl had nearly walked the full length of the street beside the house by the time Saeed dropped silently onto the street behind him.

Sneaking up on some one and rendering them unconscious were two things that Saeed did very well indeed. Within another minute Xalotl's body was laid out flat on the street and the jewel in the totem's headdress was glowing a bright and steady blue.

Before long Avan had joined Saeed and reclaimed the totem.

"Good work," Avan said, and he sounded as if he meant it. "I'm still feeling the effects of the scattereye potion, you'll have to help me check if Xalotl's still got the artifacts."

Saeed rolled Xalotl over, the Sergeant-Major had a pack slung over his shoulder but it was empty.

"I think, if Xalotl ever had the items he already handed them to someone else," Saeed said.

"Not to worry," Avan said. "I can still get information from the birds flying overhead. Most of them have settled into nests now, there's less motion in my mind's eye than there was before. Just give me a moment-" Avan's face, wearing a look of intense concentration, suddenly dropped into a mask of alarm. "Oh... no," he said.

"What?" Saeed asked.

"I know who took the artifacts from Xalotl," Avan said. "And she's just released a horde of vampires into the Almshouse."

"Miranda!" Saeed said, there was really only one person she could have referred to at this point. "I'll get after her."

"No," Avan said. "We have to save the nuns in the almshouse, I can't do it alone with the scattereye still in force."

"What about the bow, and Miranda?" Saeed asked.

"We can catch up with her later," Avan said. "For now, we have to make sure no one gets hurt."

Saeed and Avan did manage to save the nuns, returned Xalotl to the palace and Oban Reif to jail. They did, also catch up with Miranda Felix and discovered why it was she had stolen the artifacts from the Treasure Houses of Dracopolis, all of this is a story for another time.