Sinead held the Blue Orb aloft. Moonsprite, her snow-white unicorn, pawed the ground while her Mistress uttered the sacred words from the final chapter of the Prophesy book.
The orb glowed more brightly, its indigo light shining across the wild heathland. A path appeared before them: the way to the Far Side, where the Edge of the World began. Sinead must commit the way to memory. The Blue Orb would not shine here again.
Night creatures skittered and slithered around their feet. Sinead gripped the Orb more tightly, willing her mind to absorb the knowledge.
The Orb ceased to glow, but the stars shone overhead. Sinead returned the Orb to Moonsprite’s saddle bag and took out the Sword of Elshain, strapping it around her waist. There were four last challenges to complete.
Moonsprite tossed her silver mane. The journey would be long, but together they would finish the final chapter.
‘Oh Sparky, what are we going to do?’ Alys wrung her hands as a sludgy yellow substance seeped from the bottom of her cauldron.
It had all been going so well. Business had been brisk following her success with the skin potion she’d made for Agatha of Aladore*. Agatha had been the subject of a beauty feature in the Weekly Witch, and Alys had also had a spot in the same publication, although the journalist who came to interview her hadn’t been best pleased when she’d inadvertently turned her photographer into a frog.
Alys sighed again and stared mournfully at the leaky cauldron. ‘How much is a new cauldron going to cost Sparky?’
The diminutive dragon quickly consulted Acme’s Catalogue for Practitioners of Potions. ‘A Number Five Cauldron is six hundred and twenty four witch-gilders.’
‘I don’t even have the twenty four witch-gilders after paying compensation to that journalist.’ A plump tear ran down her cheek.
Sparky hopped up on her shoulder and nuzzled her neck. He began to weep in sympathy, their tears mingling as they dripped into the leaky cauldron.
Psst-psst-psst! The cauldron hissed. Whooosh! A cloud of blue smoke issued forth from its depths. Ping-ping-ping! A shower of shiny silver objects rained down on the floor.
Sparky hopped down to investigate. ‘Look at this Alys,’ he exclaimed, releasing a cloud of excited steam.
Alys crouched down to look. ‘Coins! Oh Sparky, are they real?’
The diminutive dragon examined the nearest coin. ‘Sure they are!’ He gathered them up. ‘Six hundred and twenty-four witch-gilders!’
‘Exactly the amount we need… but how?’
The cauldron sputtered again and a thick piece of parchment flew out, flapped about and presented itself to Alys. It read: ‘Your cauldron is due for retirement and has bestowed a parting spell. Please treat her kindly in her old age and do not use her as an umbrella stand.’
The parchment promptly vanished.
Alys and Sparky looked at each other. The cauldron gurgled happily and showered them with tiny pink roses.
The challenge this week was catalogue. Photo credit: clipart-library.com It’s a little longer than the suggested 250 words, but Sparky didn’t want me to leave any of the story out.
Sinead stood defiant as last of the Oppressors tumbled into the cloud-cloaked abyss. She’d underestimated the power of the fabled Blue Orb, and thought the Prophesy must be flawed, but the magic she’d unleashed when she spoke the sacred words had felled them all.
That last one had laughed scornfully. How could a mere woman destroy the Patriarchy? But he was wrong. He sank, like the rest of them, crumbling to dust.
Sinead plucked the Book of Prophesy from Moonsprite’s saddle bag. The snow-white unicorn whinnied softly as her mistress turned to the final chapter.
The words glowed red.
At last Sinead realised what the Fourth Sacred Artifact must be. Slowly she led Moonsprite back down the Sunset Path. Once more their journey would be long, but she must gather the remains of the Sisterhood.
Together they would forge the Freedom Key which would unshackle the chains of Mother Earth.
Microphone in hand, TV reporter Jason Joslyn strode towards the shiny pink limo as a svelte figure emerged to a flurry of flash photography. ‘Ms Kitty Katz, do you have a few words for our viewers?’
Kitty flashed her pearly whites for the cameras. Hollywood star turned politician, the eyes of the entire world were upon her.
Jason addressed the TV audience. ‘For those of you who’ve been off-planet these last few weeks, Ms Kitty Katz has won the nomination as leading opposition candidate in the race for the Presidency. These are exciting times, Kitty, how are you feeling?’
Kitty Katz’s reply was drowned out by a loud explosion. Smoke billowed from the grand arena in which her latest rally was about to commence. A host of stars staggered out in a shower of shredded sequins.
The feline film star’s campaign had been dogged by intimidation. It had started small with threats and minor outbreaks of violence against her supporters, but this latest incident was an outrage! What she couldn’t understand was why. Surely those behind such strong-arm tactics realised they were only reinforcing her resolve and perking up her popularity in the polls?
Undaunted, Kitty rushed towards the entrance, while Jason and his camera man followed at a discrete distance. Fortunately nobody had been seriously hurt, although the combined dry cleaning bill was going to cost a small fortune.
Kitty’s cellphone vibrated in her pocket. She flicked a delicate paw across the screen. The video call revealed her friend and aide, Freya, standing over a familiar orange-faced figure. Two thin curlicues of smoke rose from Freya’s pretty purple nostrils and behind her, Kitty could see the golden drapes which framed the White House lawn smoldering gently.
‘He’s confessed, Kitty. This idiot and his Russian friend are behind the intimidation. I’ve got it all here.’
Kitty held up her phone and beckoned to Jason. ‘Show this to the world; the new Hollywood dawn is here!’
High on the koppie the old woman tends the fire again. Throwing the final fistful of grey-green herbs over the unfurling flames, she melts into the silence of the pre-dawn shadows.
The once-maiden draws her lover close. He sleeps and she rises again, the child of the new dawn.
She stands gazing over the veld to where the smudge-blue mountains melt into the velvet-black of the burgeoning storm. Earth tremors ripple over the veld, rousing her waiting feet. She grows taller, a giantess, who strides across the yellowed grasses towards the beckoning finger of lightning.
The rain-bull kneels. In a single fluid movement, the San Man straddles the great beast’s back. The rain-bull rises. Thunder erupts from his nostrils and he charges down the mountain-side, scattering huge boulders before him. The men stagger in his wake as the storm clouds unleash their fury. Flood water surges down the slopes and blankets of rain sweep the over the veld to greet the distant sea.
The storm seethes on and the parched earth groans and shudders under its weight. The two men are gathered up in the deluge, spinning in a howling whirlpool across the veld and coming to rest on the cloud-cloaked koppie.
Later, the men awake to find their companion staring into the dying fire. They rouse themselves from their herb-induced dream-time and trudge down from the koppie.
They know that soon the once-maiden will return leading a long-legged rain-cow to bring soft raindrops which will last a whole season.
Dumbo Olivier III stared at his reflection in the dressing-room mirror. His trunk drooped as he examined the growing number of wrinkles on his once-youthful face.
‘C’mon, Dumbs, this could be your big break.’ His agent waved the new script at him. ‘It’s regular work, Dumbs.’
‘A middle-aged medical examiner in a two-bit cop show?’
‘A show which airs every Sunday afternoon, Dumbs. This is the real deal!’
Dumbo shook his crinkly ears. ‘I’m not ready to be a character actor.’
‘Chicks love older men. Think of George Clooney!’
Dumbo turned to regard his profile. ‘Move over, George,’ he murmured.’
Easter Bunny Mad March Hare Celebrating Rabbits Everywhere!
What’s this all about? Well, spring (for most of you) is just around the corner and the Easter Holidays will follow hot on its heels. Maybe you have children? Grandchildren? Friend’s children?
Why not get them something original for Easter? It’s bunny-related…
Following the Green Rabbit It’s my children’s fantasy historical adventure story for ages 9 years and up (and that includes the grown ups too).
It’s a book for adventurers everywhere! You can read a bounding bunny bithere. Order from Amazon
…for young adults upwards: The Silver Locket There was a little rabbit in my first novel too. With summer on it’s way, why not grab a copy for that lazy afternoon you’be been promising yourself?
Ever wondered what I sound like?
You can hear me rabbiting on about my books in a recent radio interview on Chat and Spin Radio, an internet radio station, based in the UK with a worldwide audience. It was my first live radio interview and a little bit daunting, but Ron and Ian who host the programme made it very easy.
My five minutes of fame start 42 mins into the programme after Diana Ross and before Sheena Easton so I was in good company.
Alys stirred the copper cauldron. Three times widdershins and three times sunwise.
‘What’s next, Sparky?’ she glanced over at the diminutive dragon who was sitting on his purple haunches reading from the ‘Spell-book of Beauty for Witches’. Just out of her apprenticeship, Alys had been set to work on a particular potion for the Sisterhood.
‘Eye of newt and ear of bat…’
‘Stop messing, Sparky. Even I know that’s from Mr Shakespeare’s play.’ Alys laughed and flicked the long-handled spoon she was using to stir the pot at her tiny familiar. Small spatters landed on the pages of the spell-book where they sizzled ominously.
Sparky ran a tiny gleaming claw down the text. ‘Add five drops of crocodile tears and twelve drops of tincture of unicorn hair. Stir vigorously sunwise, then add tiny pinches of campfire dust until the mixture begins to glow.’
Alys added the ingredients and stirred.
‘I wonder if it’s supposed to look like that,’ said Alys, peering at the potion. ‘Oh well, it’ll have to do. Agatha of Aladore will be here any second.
Just then, Agatha materialized on the doormat. She grinned, holding out a small copper jug expectantly.
Alys filled the jug, wondering whether any potion could possibly work sufficient magic on Agatha’s gnarled and warty complexion. But Agatha cheerfully smeared the hot gloop over her face.
The potion began to fizz. ‘Oooh,’ exclaimed Agatha.
Her face puffed up like a poppadum. Then, with a loud hiss, the outer skin vapourised. Agatha’s hands flew to her cheeks.
There was a moment’s silence.
Agatha removed her hands. Her face was beautifully smooth. Her eyes shone wide and blue, clashing unfortunately with the colour of her skin which was… GREEN!
Agatha snapped her fingers; a small mirror hovered in front of her.
There was another moment’s silence.
Now I’m for it, Alys thought.
‘I LOVE IT!’ Agatha threw her arms around Alys. ‘Just the right tinge of witchery menace.’ She clapped her hands together. ‘I’ll tell all my friends!’ She tottered onto the doormat. ‘Vogue for Witches here I come!’ echoed her voice from the ether.
Alys held out her hand; Sparky sprang up and gave her a high five.
luna's on line 