Sinead stared up at the depiction of the Maze in which she was trapped. A dark shape was moving near the outer edge. The Hound?
His bark had been a relief. If she’d realised why he’d not touched his food sooner, she might not be imprisoned now. But wasn’t this her challenge from the Prophesy Book? Destiny could not be avoided.
Her eyes searched the images on the ceiling. A silver object glimmered in a small chamber nearby. A silver chalice. She recognised it immediately. It was the Chalice of Earthly Liberation. The fourth sacred artifact.
Sinead took a step backwards and found herself in the passageway. The wall behind her had vanished. She spun around. Moments later she had the Chalice in her hand. Sinead pounded through the Maze, certain of the way out. Finally, thankfully, the archway she remembered loomed ahead.
Alys waved her wand with a flourish. ‘Ceiling reparo!’
Sparky, her diminutive dragon, looked up as several stray flakes of plaster dislodged themselves.
Alys waved her wand again. ‘Plaster mendaro!’
The cracks in the ceiling made by the bogus dragon inspector stubbornly remained.
Alys lowered her wand. ‘I don’t know, Sparky. I’m no good at these DIY spells.’
‘Maybe we should call someone.’ He flew over to the bookshelf and pulled out a thin volume with a bright yellow cover. Sparky started leafing through the flimsy pages.
They were interrupted by a loud thud on the doormat heralding the arrival of two stocky little men wearing blue overalls. One held a large bucket and the other carried a ladder. ‘You called, Miss?’ they said in unison.
Alys turned to Sparky. ‘Did we?’
Sparky shook his head.
‘Aha,’ the two little men pointed at the ceiling. ‘We see your problem, Miss.’
‘Can you repair it?’ asked Alys hopefully.
‘Of course.’ Fred rubbed his hands together. ‘We’ll have this done in a jiffy.’
Alys returned to the kitchen where a hair preparation ‘for constantly flowing locks’ was gently simmering in her cauldron. Sparky followed carrying his new copy of Dragon Detectives’ Monthly which had arrived by doormat that morning. He’d only just settled down to read when a loud hiss of crimson steam issued from his nostrils.
‘BEWARE THESE COWBOY CONTRACTORS!’ the heading screamed. Sparky hastily silenced the article with a swift pat of his paw.
‘What is it, Sparky?’
Sparky put a purple claw to his mouth. He beckoned to Alys and pointed at the photograph. The faces of the two stocky workman stared out from the article. ‘Wanted in two counties for preying on the unwary, these practitioners of make and mend have been wreaking mischief and mayhem on unsuspecting clients’ homes. They extort money on the promise of rectification and then disappear without completing the work. Their most recent victim was Agatha of Agador…’
Alys looked up. Agatha was one of her best clients. ‘Poor Agatha!’ she exclaimed.
Alys ladled a couple of spoonsful of the preparation from her cauldron into a glass jug and muttered an incantation. The mixture fizzed and bubbled, then slowly cleared to a pleasant lemony colour.
She poured it into two glasses, winking at Sparky. ‘Refreshments, gentlemen,’ she called out cheerfully, carrying the glasses into the next room and putting them on the table.
The two men seized the glasses and drank. ‘That really hits the spot,’ said Bob.
‘Just as well,’ said Fred. ‘This job is trickier than we thought. We’ll need to come back tomorrow.’
Alys eyed the ceiling where there was now a gaping hole.
‘We need more materials,’ Fred rubbed his hands together, ‘and an advance on the payment.’
Sparky snatched up the Dragon Detective’s Weekly and flew across the room, dropping it on the table in front of the two men. A threatening shower of sparks spurted from his snout.
Fred put his hands on his hips. ‘So? D’you want the job finished or what?’
Bob nudged him. ‘Your hair, it’s… it’s green and it’s growing!’
Fred turned to him. His jaw dropped open. ‘So’s yours!’
Within seconds grisly green hair was pooling at their feet.
Alys glared at the two men. ‘Put my ceiling right and your hair will go back to normal.’ She twitched her wand and the hair began to curl and tighten around their bodies. ‘And finish all those other jobs,’ she pointed at the article.
‘That’s blackmail!’ Fred mumbled indistinctly through a forest of green beard.
Sinead awoke shivering in the darkness. She reached for her cloak but it was gone. Panic rising, she felt for the Sword of Elshain, but it was gone too. Then she remembered. She’d either been drugged or enchanted.
The room grew brighter. Stone walls encased her in a small chamber. No window. No door.
Not all is as it seems. Was this an illusion?
She looked up. A picture was forming on the ceiling as if painted by an invisible hand. It was a depiction of a maze. In the centre was a tiny figure enclosed within a solid wall. Sinead rose to her feet, not taking her eyes off the ceiling. The tiny figure moved too.
This must be the Maze of Mandoran; the first of the four final challenges.
She heard a dog barking. The Hound was calling to her! All she had to do now was escape.
Tarron laid a hand on Moonsprite’s neck. ‘She will come with me.’
Sinead began to protest, but the elderly elf spoke: ‘The challenge is for you alone. Fear not, she will be safe.’ Tarron whispered in Moonsprite’s ear and the unicorn whinnied softly.
‘The Hound will accompany you.’ Tarron removed the great beast’s leach. The Hound stood up and shook himself.
‘The Prophesy Book!’ Sinead reached for Moonsprite’s saddlebag.
‘It will be of no help to you in the Great Maze,’ said Tarron. ‘Now go.’
The Hound at her side, Sinead stepped through the archway. The chamber lit up before them. People were feasting, there was music and laughter. Someone led her to a table and gave her meat and bread; people nodded and smiled. The Hound was given food too. Sinead ate with relish but the Hound didn’t touch his bowl. As she slipped into unconsciousness, she realised why.
Alys was stirring a batch of Witches’ Wonder Beauty Cream when she heard a knock at the door.
‘We’re not expecting anyone are we, Sparky?’
The diminutive dragon looked up from the WeeklyWitch where he was reading about their recent success in the WI Competition. He shook his head.
Alys turned off the cauldron with a wand-wave before opening the door. She was greeted by broad chest with a large belt buckle below it. Alys stepped back in surprise. ‘Oh, it’s a giant!’
The owner of the large belt buckle stooped down and a big black bearded face appeared. ‘Your doorway is somewhat small, but I’ll just…’ The giant squeezed himself inside. ‘Right.’ He looked down at Alys with a stern expression on his face.
Alys looked up at him. Fearing for her ceiling she asked him to sit down. The giant perched on the edge of her work table, whose legs groaned loudly.
‘What can I do for you?’ Alys asked.
The giant consulted the clipboard he was holding. ‘You’re Alice of the Western Witches’ Coven?’
‘That’s right.’
‘My name is Bruwod. I’m here about a Breach of Ye Olde Treaty of Magical Creatures’.
Alys frowned. Sparky flew up onto her shoulder. A wisp of agitated steam escaped from his left nostril.
Bruwod leapt to his feet. A sprinkling of plaster peppered his shoulders as his head hit the ceiling. He pointed at Sparky. ‘You have a dragon!’
‘And I have a hole in my ceiling,’ replied Alys testily. ‘What’s this about?’
Bruwod glanced at the upwards and seated himself again. The table sighed heavily. ‘Your dragon is Unregistered in Breach of Regulation 6.66. He will be impounded and released back into the wild.’ He jabbed his pencil in Sparky’s direction.
The diminutive dragon snorted in alarm, sending out tiny showers of purple sparks from his flaring nostrils.
‘Into the wild? I’ve had him since he was an egg!’ said Alys in alarm.
‘Do you have the Proper Documentation for his Provenance?’
Alys shook her head.
‘You’re keeping a Protected Species without the Proper Documentation.’ Bruwod stabbed his pencil on his clipboard for emphasis. The point promptly broke.
With a whoosh and a bang and a cloud of red smoke, a piece of parchment appeared on the doormat. They all turned to look. The parchment reared up revealing a picture of Bruwod framed by the words: ‘Wanted for Dragon Abduction; Reward Offered.’
Bruwod flung down his clipboard and lunged towards Sparky who flew up in alarm, golden flames shooting from his nostrils. Bruwod grabbed at him with a meaty hand catching him by the tail. ‘Gotcha!’
Alys snatched up her wand as Sparky shot a dagger of brilliant blue flame into Bruwod’s face. The giant let go, tripping over the doormat and landing in heap next to the retired cauldron.
Not familiar with the Craft of Combat and Containment, Alys struggled for a spell, but the retired cauldron was quicker, casting a huge net over the writhing giant.
A gruff voice shouted from the other side of the door. ‘Witchery Enforcement! Stand back, we’re coming in!’ The door burst open.
It only took a few moments for the four burly officers to bundle Bruwod into their van. ‘Well done, Miss, you’ve captured a dangerous criminal,’ said their leader touching the peak of his cap with his wand.
‘It wasn’t really me,’ Alys glanced at her retired cauldron which quivered gently.
‘Nevertheless, we’re grateful for the assistance.’ He handed Alys a voucher for Acme’s Ingredients and Equipment for Witches.
Alys and Sparky grinned. It was their favourite store.
The hooded figure and the magnificent hound disappeared inside the castle. Sinead and Moonsprite followed, forced to walk singly in the narrow torch-lit passageway.
‘Courage, Sinead!’
The voice echoed in her head once again. She remembered when she’d first heard it: when she’d last gone into battle. But why the welcome and now the warning?
The voice continued. ‘Both good and evil lie within these walls and not everything as it seems. Remember this.’
Up ahead, the figure halted before an archway. The hound sat bolt upright, its attention fixed on whatever lay beyond. As Sinead and Moonsprite approached, the figure lowered its hood revealing the smiling face of an elderly elf. His green-tipped ears twitched merrily.
‘I am Tarron. I bid you welcome. This is the Hound of Hellidore. He will lead you to the Great Maze of Mandoran. Choose your path wisely and you will pass through unscathed.’
Sinead and Moonsprite stood before the castle walls. Sinead grasped the Sword of Elshain in one hand and buried the fingers of her other hand in the unicorn’s snowy mane.
The huge iron doors of the castle swung open. ‘Lay aside your weapon. We welcome you!’ Was the voice inside Sinead’s head or did it come from within the castle walls? Moonsprite nuzzled her shoulder and she sheathed her sword.
Together they crossed over the threshold. The doors clanged shut behind them.
Flowers carpeted the castle grounds. Breathing in their heady perfume, Sinead began to relax for the first time in many weeks. Moonsprite whinnied gently, burying her muzzle in the brightly coloured petals.
Ahead of them another door creaked open and a cloaked figure appeared, holding a massive hound on a leash.
The figure beckoned with a crooked finger. ‘Come inside, both of you!’
The challenge this week was leash. Photo credit: Kevin Jackson on Unsplash
Sinead and Moonsprite apologise for hi-jacking this week’s challenge, but they have an important quest to complete. Previous episodes of their quest may be found here
The sun cast its first golden rays across the heathland. Sinead and Moonsprite had been walking all night. They’d pursued the path in the starlight, pushing aside all thoughts of what lurked in the darkness beyond. Sinead had drawn the Sword of Elshain several times, but no creature had dared approach.
Both were tired now.
The path led to a stand of pine trees beckoning safety. They settled down on the soft-scented forest floor, guarding Moonsprite’s saddle bag and its precious contents between them. Sinead gathered her cloak around her, the Sword of Elshain under her hand.
Awaking to find the sun high in the sky, Sinead shared out the last of the stale oatcakes. She opened the Prophesy Book and continued reading. Raising her eyes she now saw a towering castle wall beyond the trees.
Foretold in the Prophesy Book, the first of the four last challenges lay within.
Alys eyed the glowing seed packet dubiously. It had just that minute materialised on her doormat with a note from Cheryl Charmworker, the Chairlady of the Inter-Coven Competition Committee.
‘Well, Sparky, this is going to be a challenge,’ Alys addressed her diminutive dragon who was still perusing Cheryl’s missive.
‘She’s asked you to represent the Western Sisterhood in the Witches’ Institute Flower and Produce competition!’
‘Only because everyone else is busy with the Mistress of Spells Symposium,’ said Alys moodily. ‘What do we know about growing stuff?’
‘We can only try, Alys. C’mon, let’s get planting. The competition’s this afternoon!’ Excited smoke danced from Sparky’s purple nostrils as he flew out of the back door.
Alys followed carrying the seed packet carefully. ‘Don’t wake until ready to sow’, the instructions had whispered.
With a bright burst of flames, Sparky cleared a patch of earth. Alys opened the packet and shook it. The tiny seeds sparkled and danced in the air before sowing themselves neatly in the fresh earth. Each seed produced a miniature spade and covered itself over. Moments later they heard the gentle sound of snoring coming from beneath the earth.
Alys and Sparky spent an anxious few hours anticipating the growth of their entry. Eventually they’d given up peeking out of the back door to find nothing happening. Alys returned to studying the ‘Biggest Book of Brilliant Spells’, while Sparky amused himself practicing his flame throwing skills in the hearth.
They were interrupted by a polite knock on the back door. Alys hurried to open it. The ugliest bunch of knobbly root vegetables she had ever seen lay neatly knotted together on the doorstep, pulsating with a peculiar pink colour. It was almost time to leave. Her heart sank. They were never going to win with these.
Alys and Sparky stood on the doormat. Alys had just read out their destination when a big bunch of tulips burst from the retired cauldron and placed itself on top of the basket holding the knobbly veggies. Alys smiled gratefully; maybe there was some hope after all.
The Witches Institute Hall hummed with excited conversation. No sooner had Alys and Sparky found their allotted spot than a judge arrived; a rotund black-bearded dwarf who introduced himself as Wilfred.
Wilfred eyed the tulips. ‘You grew these?’ he asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
Alys flushed. ‘Actually no, they were a present from my retired cauldron.’
Wilfred removed the offending flowers and peered into the basket. ‘What do we have here?’ he plucked the pulsating pink veggies from the basket.
Alys and Sparky exchanged a worried glance as Wilfred slowly turned them over in his calloused hands.
‘These are magnificent!’ He leapt onto the table and held them aloft. ‘Pink Prestige Parsnips; notoriously difficult to grow.’ Wilfred beamed. ‘First Prize to the Western Witches’ Coven!’
A large red rosette appeared on the table next to Alys. Wilfred turned to her and whispered. ‘You would’t mind if I took a couple home, would you?’
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.
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