

# Unfinished Symphony

A Novel

Raymond Lee Atkinson

Ray lives at home in a small terraced house in England's North West. He shares his house and his life with his wonderful wife, two children and a small black cat which his daughter christened Sparkles Barbie Glitter Diamond Pink. He enjoys reading and writing.

For Katie, Harry and Poppy.

"To love a person is to learn the song that is in their heart and sing it to them when they have forgotten" Thomas Chandler

### Chapter 1.

Polly Appledean slept as snug as a bug. A head was all that could be seen poking out of a hodgepodge of ragged blankets. Her gentle snores played along with the tick and the tock of the cuckoo clock.

Tick, tock, shew. Tick, tock, shew. Tick, tock, shew.

Soon the wind added to the building orchestra.

Tick, tock, shew, eee. Tick, tock, shew, eee. Tick, tock, shew, eee.

The moonlight danced into the room as the curtains fluttered open. Billowing wide they granted access to a tall and unusual man who glided into the dark room.

There he stood with arms and legs so long and thin they looked unable to support his gangly frame. His head was punctuated by a large hat which sat jauntily on top of his head. His long black jacket reached down to a pair of black shiny boots that made no noise as he walked to the foot of the bed.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, tilted his head and listened to the music being made. The soft bed and the sweet sounds soon lulled him to sleep and with his eyes closed his chin came to rest on his chest and then, he too added his own sound to the growing orchestra.

Tick, tock, shew, eee, hnnng. Tick, tock, shew, eee, hnnng. Tick, tock, shew, eee, hnnng.

#

In another small house at the far end of this little village a tall and unusual man began to repay the kindness of his hosts. A man with arms and legs too thin to support his gangly frame and a large black coat that reached down to a pair of black boots. His head which was punctuated by a large black hat began to sway as he enchanted his hosts with his song. Producing a violin from within the folds of his jacket he placed it into the crook of his neck. His large black boots began to beat out a rhythm, accompanying the violin with a strange mesmerising beat.

His host, a jolly fellow with a bald shiny head first began to smile and then to tap his feet in time with the unusual song. His smile grew and he began to clap his hands and looked across at his wife. She flashed him back a smile of delight as the strange man's melody continued. Soon, they were both stamping and clapping, enjoying the music that was being made.

A clear voice sang out in a language they were unfamiliar with, the words resonating deep in the throat of the strange and unusual man. Soon the music began to take hold and, despite the fact that they didn't know their present company, Margaret began to rise out of her chair. Harold, her husband, also began to rise to his feet, his old bones creaking and protesting. The unnatural music leading them into a happy step.

Their joy was a delight to see, it had been a long time since they had danced. Their marriage of love had borne no fruit and the labours of life had tarnished their song. Their song of love was now hued with a tinge of regret and sprinkled with a hint of bitterness. The sour taste of whatifs and cudofbeans. The strange musical man continued his song and leaned back sampling their taste. The couple's laughter filled the air as they turned around, the music filling their soul, giving them back their youth.

The tall man played on, his hands and feet becoming a blur, the words he sang began to fade. Gazing at the couple he smiled revealing foul and rotted teeth. His dried up tongue scrapped along the thin slivers of his lips as aged yellow skin formed into deep ridges across his face; his black eyes squinting.

The tempo increased as his fingers danced over the neck of the violin and his legs beat out a strange sound that moved the couple around and around. Their happy smiles were replaced by grimaces as the couple began to sweat. Their limbs began to ache, pain accompanied every step but still the tall man twirled them round, faster and faster. Their bones began to creak and then pop as their anguished cries began to mix with the music being made.

The old couple couldn't continue this frenzy and their pain was now evident to see, tears ran down as they cried out for him to stop. Their flushed cheeks began to fade as all colour was drained from their thrashing bodies. Bright red, red, rosy, pink, white, grey and still the dance continued.

The colours began to rise like steam. The reds and pinks mixed with other shades; greens, yellows, all manner of blues and purples. Splashes of sound could be heard as the colours merged and clashed above their heads.

The strange man continued the rhythm with his feet and then his mouth began to open. Wider and wider, impossibly wide it opened, his head tilting back, lizard-like. Distant screams could be heard as tendrils of colour tried to escape the gaping mouth. Still, his head tilted further back and still the old couple continued their frenzied dance, propelled by the beat of the man's feet.

Whoosh. He sucked in the cloud of colour as he began to drink in their song.

Silence. The music, gone.

Grey. The cloud of colour, gone.

Harold and Margaret stood still, no comprehension showed on their dull slack faces. Their eyes dropped to their hands that were still joined together. Confused, they pulled them apart and turned to their own seats. Slow shuffling feet was the only noise that could be heard. Together they turned and sank into their armchairs and there they sat; their skin, grey and sunken, their eyes, dull and lifeless, their song, lost and gone forever.

The tall and unusual man stood and ran his purple tongue along lips that were creased and stained with age. Standing he placed the violin back inside the folds of his long black jacket and his hand reached up and wiped the corner of his mouth; disturbing old, dry flakes of skin that fell and dusted the front of his jacket. Thanking his hosts for a fine meal he bowed deeply, his popping knees breaking the silence as he swept the floor with his hat. The old couple paid him no notice so the tall and unusual man turned and his black shiny boots made no noise as he left them, alone.

### Chapter 2

Morning and the sun began to rise into the welcoming sky, warming the land. The nocturnal creatures kept to the shrinking shadows, seeking the safety of their caves and solace from the heat of the day.

The sunlight's delicate strokes brushed over the night time colours. As the light touched them the silvers, the greys and the blacks were transformed into varying shades of blue, brown, yellow and green. As the sunlight continued to climb over the patchwork hills it came to rest on a tiny farmstead. The prying fingers of the morning sun reached in through windows, inched into the cracks under the door and began to gently shake away the dreams of a young girl. The warm fingers of the sun spread over her sleeping body, massaging her out of her slumber peppering her cheek with warm kisses as the young girl began to stir.

Polly stretched as the sounds of the farm reached her ears. Her father was a farmer and he had always worked the land, growing fruit and vegetables on his modest plot. His produce was much prized in the local village for both their flavour and their size and this alone was the reason that they did not starve. You see, her father also raised livestock alongside his renowned fruit and vegetables but he could never ever bring himself to slaughter and make a meal of any of his animals. So, Polly had ended up with the largest collection of barnyard pets anywhere in the three counties and it had become a mighty drain on their dwindling supplies.

The reason for her father's reluctance to slaughter the animals came from his ability to tell tales. Short tales, long tales, daft as a brush tales. Her father had a habit of telling tales to anyone and anything that would listen and he firmly believed that once you had shared a tale you were honour bound in friendship. So, the animals listened and the animals stayed. It was ok, Polly didn't mind, the animals and her had become fast friends, they always listened and never interrupted, never tried to tell you it would all be okay and her father, well, he could rustle up a mean carrot and sprout casserole.

Polly began to stir and stretch, she was already late making a start on her chores, and her feet pushed against something at the end of her bed. Thinking it was the old Tabby cat Mildred, she tried to flick her off the bed with a gentle prod of her toes. Refusing to budge she gave it another gentle kick trying to shoo her from the bed. Still the old cat refused to move with her prompting.

Polly raised her head from the bed and spied a strange looking man; he smiled at her, the type of smile a friend might use having just eaten your last sweet while your back was turned. The strange man removed his hat, releasing several strands of hair which floated above his head like reeds dancing in the water. Polly looked at his hat, it was enormous, the biggest she had ever seen. The strange man placed his hat on the bed and reached up trying to control the wispy strands of hair. He made no effort to move towards her, he seemed content to just sit and stare.

Polly, although somewhat confused and if she had to admit it, a tiny little bit scared, was not about to make a fool of herself. This was her room and in here she was the boss, even her father knew that.

"Good morning" she said with a confidence she didn't feel "my name is Polly and you happen to be in my bedroom. I hope you don't think of me as rude but who are you?"

"Ah, a good question that be, not very easy to answer. Might be best-ways you asked another."

"Okay then. What' your name?"

"My fair lady. Now that be a much better question, one that I am now able to answer. My name is Aphrodisius and I am most pleased and honoured to make your acquaintance." He said reaching up to the top of his head looking to doff his cap. Realising he had removed it already, he picked it up and placed it back on top of his head.

"And I am pleased to meet you Mister Aphrodopos. Now, why are you in my bedroom?"

"Please my young lady, call me Archie and as to the why. Why I am here to protect you. Keep you safely out of harm's way."

"Protect me. What do you need to protect me from?"

"My dear I am here to protect you from myself, my other self. You see, the man who is me but not me. Do you follow child." Polly shook her head so he continued. "Let us call him my brother, my twin brother almost. Now let me continue. My brother is a collector, a collector of strange and unusual songs. The song that he would like to collect next unfortunately happens to be your song. My brother has a taste for the melancholy. When your mother passed your song became most attractive to him. He has been tracking you ever since, searching, following the faint wisps of your orchestra."

"My song, what do you mean?"

"Please, allow me to explain. From the moment you are born till the moment you die you begin to orchestrate your own individual song, as unique to you as your fingerprints." He held his right hand up in front of his face and wiggled the fingers, staring at his hands as if noticing them for the first time. "Yes, your fingerprints." He continued to waggle his fingers as a smile played at the corner of his mouth. "Now where was I?" He said as much to himself as Polly.

"You were telling me about ..." Polly replied.

"Your song, that's right. Such a clever little girl, now mind your manners and don't interrupt. As I was saying, no two songs are ever the same, the experiences we go through moulding the melody that becomes our own and my brother. Well, he likes to collect these songs."

"Oh, that's okay, you don't need to protect me. He can have my song. To be honest with you, I didn't even know I had one."

"Graciously said and graciously given young miss. But what is a life without music? A grey and dreary existence I think. That is not so much like a life. You see, when he takes your song all he leaves behind is an empty, lifeless husk."

"You still don't need to protect me. If he or anyone else comes for me I'll get my father's shotgun. I can shoot you know. In fact I am so good a shot that I can shoot a bull's eye from two hundred yards. Though I never would, the bull is one of my good friends. But I could shoot you, I mean the other you, right between the eyes."

"Very brave young miss but, like myself, neither arrow nor blade can injure or hinder him. We are the fabric of dreams and music young lady, now please give me your full attention."

Archie lifted his hands and again seemed both confused and amused by the complexity of the instrument in front of him, he chuckled and then holding up his right hand he made a fist. He brought it towards his mouth and extending his thumb he placed it between his lips. His cheeks puffed out and he blew, emitting a large raspberry noise.

"Ahem, excuse me." He shook his hand and placed it back in his mouth and again he blew into his thumb, this time producing a clear high note.

It made a beautiful sound and then, as he first opened one finger and then another the notes began to change. Rolling into one another they began to make a delightful melody. Archie raised his eyebrows and nodded towards the foot of the bed. Polly looked as one of her bed-sheets began to swirl and rise off the bed. Up it floated, high above Polly's head and the sheet twisted and danced to the hypnotic song, forming itself into the shape of a swan. Polly watched in awe as the strange man's music brought her bed linen to life. She watched the sheet transform from a white swan into a white rabbit and laughed as it bounded from one side of the room to the other coming to rest on top of her wardrobe. The rabbit sat there, resting on its haunches and began to clean its ears and face with its paw.

"Polly" her father called from out in the hallway.

Archie ceased the music and the rabbit dissolved, coming to rest in a pile on top of her wardrobe. Now it was nothing more magical than a plain old bed-sheet.

"Polly" her father shouted through the closed door "you're up rather late today. Could you leave your music practice till after you have completed your chores? I'm afraid it's just porridge today, I think we must have the laziest hens in the three counties."

Polly heard the door to the bathroom close and the steady hiss as the shower was brought to life.

"GOOD GOD, NO" Polly's father screamed in obvious distress. "NO".

Polly looked up at the old man and laughed at the fear that was evident on his face.

"It's okay" she said. "It's just my father. He read in one of his magazines that a cold shower is the best way to start the day. It rev's up your metabolisms, that's your internal heater and it stops you getting fat."

"My dear, that is barbaric. I do hope he doesn't inflict this torture upon your good self."

"No, he says I am pretty revved up already. It's just something old people need to do." She said with a smile and the hint of a question lingering in the corner of her eye. A question happy to hide there, a question not quite brave enough to make it to her lips.

"My dear I do hope you are not suggesting that I adopt this ludicrous regime. I have reached the grand old age of one thousand nine hundred and forty eight and I have done that without the aid of cold showers. Now my young lady, collect your things, it is time for us to leave. We cannot let your father know the danger we are in for there is nothing he can do. It would only place him in great peril."

"What? You can't possibly mean it. You can't just expect me to run off with a strange man. Sorry, I meant a man I have only just met. You're not that strange. What would my father think?"

"My dear you must, it is for the best."

Polly gazed around the room, the bed, her wardrobe, the rocking chair that didn't rock. She looked at her old chest of drawers, the piles of books. The violin she hadn't yet learned to play. The mountain of teddy bears at the bottom of her bed. Her room, her home, her father. How could she leave this all behind?

"I can't leave" she smiled at Archie "he can have my song. I just can't leave my home."

She sat down on the bed and lifted one of the teddy bears up to her face and inhaled; she could still smell her mother's perfume, the scent of lavender still lingered. The old man joined her on the corner of the bed.

"Polly my dear you must come with me, it may only be for a short time but I must keep you safe. I fear that he may have already struck close by. Please, just allow me to show you the effect of his devilment, you must trust me."

Polly's weak smile did nothing to hide how she really felt. Could she trust this old man? This man with magic in his hands. What else could she do? She was in danger, her father was in danger. She wouldn't lose him as well.

"You can show me what he has done and then, well, I don't know but surely there is another way. We could fight him here or..."

"My dear we must go" Archie said.

Polly quickly grabbed her tracksuit and slipped it over her pyjamas. Then she pushed her feet into her yellow wellington boots. With her mind made up she stormed towards the door only to be restrained by Archie's outstretched arm. Polly opened her mouth to speak but Archie indicated for her to be silent by raising a finger to his lips. He opened his hand and his four upright fingers slowly counted down. Four, three, two, one.

The bathroom door opened and Polly's father padded past her bedroom and towards his own and rushing in he slammed the door shut behind him.

"Now we leave." Archie reached for the door handle.

"Wait." Polly grabbed a pencil and a sheet of paper, she scribbled down a note for her father. She would be staying at her friend Elizabeth's house. Opening the door to her bedroom the unlikely travelling companions wandered down the hallway into the kitchen. Polly dropped the note on the table and watched as Archie pocketed a couple of apples from the fruit bowl.

He opened the door for Polly and they both stepped through. Polly glanced back inside the kitchen and then shut the door on the life she had known.

### Chapter 3

They left the farm and made their way down the lane away from Polly's home. Very little was said, Polly was too busy contemplating the events of the morning. They passed a number of small cottages set back away from the road, smoke curling into the sky from stout chimney's that rested on top of sagging thatched roofs. Cracks running alongside the render and windows drooping giving the impression of a contented old man at slumber. The smell of bacon and eggs drifted on the breeze as the occupants were busy breaking their fast.

Polly was relieved it was so early, she had no idea how she would explain the strange man that accompanied her. They followed the old track, avoiding the centre of the village and they soon came to the outer boundaries of the tiny village.

Archie stopped and pointed at a small cottage. Polly recognised the place.

"My dear, I fear this is where he has struck. Please child you must enter with me."

"Mr and Mrs Grindlehurst live here" Polly whispered "What do you think has happened to them? You don't think they have been hurt do you?"

"I fear the worst my child. I can feel no lingering trace of his presence. Only silence."

They walked towards the cottage and Archie reached down, unclasping the gate. It slowly swung in, creaking. Archie led Polly up the path between the rows of blooming flowers, already hundreds of bees circled around intoxicated by the strong smell of lavender.

The front door stood ajar and Archie pushed it open with his foot. The door swung in and sunlight flooded into the dark hallway. Archie and Polly entered into the house, all around them was silence even the sounds from the garden seemed to fade away. Their footsteps were muffled by the thick carpet as they walked past the scullery and the pantry.

They continued on towards the parlour and glanced in the kitchen as they passed. The table was still set from the evening's meal and flies buzzed around the remaining scraps of food. Polly turned to look at Archie who had stopped on the threshold of the parlour.

"Polly, they may not be as you remember them, please be brave. Come." Archie held out his hand and together they entered the parlour.

Everything was how it should be; nothing seemed out of place, there was no sign of a struggle. Polly gazed around the room, she squeezed Archie's hand when her eyes settled on the two chairs either side of the fire. Mr and Mrs Grindlehurst sat across from each other, staring, no comprehension on their dull slack faces.

"Mrs Grindlehurst" Polly shouted "Margaret."

There was no reply. Their heads turned towards Polly, their brows furrowed in concentration. She smiled and waved but the old couple just continued to stare, drool running from their open mouths.

"What's happened to them" Polly asked. "They don't recognise me, they don't even know who I am."

"I am afraid this is the work of my brother. He has taken their song, they live on, that is, they breathe but that is all. Polly this is why you cannot let him take your song. Now do you see?"

"What can we do? Should we get the doctor or call for an ambulance?"

"I'm afraid there is no medicine to remedy this. They are lost but we can help them pass. Polly, you must sit down and remain utterly still. Make no sound."

Polly walked to the edge of the couch and sank into the giant piles of cushions. Archie left the room and then returned with a handful of lavender picked fresh from the front garden, he separated the lavender into two bunches and approached Mrs Grindlehurst. As he wafted the bouquet of lavender under her nose her eyes focused momentarily and then Archie placed the flowers on her lap. Then he approached Mr Grindlehurst and performed the same routine. Archie moved to the centre of the room, opened his jacket and pulled out a violin. He placed the violin into the crook of his neck and with his other hand he removed his hat and with a deft flick of his wrist sent it sailing through the sky. Polly had little time to react as the hat landed on top of her head, covering her eyes.

"Now Miss Polly. Tell me all you know of this couple."

Polly pushed up the brim of the giant hat and looked at the old couple. Mr and Mrs Grindlehurst. Harold and Margaret. Her neighbours.

"Erm, they had two cats and Mr Grindlehurst grew vegetables, big vegetables, the biggest in the county. Even bigger than my fathers."

"That is all very interesting Polly, but do you know how long they were married? Did they have any children? I think not, their song still lingers faintly. Again child, tell me all you know."

"Right, they were married for a long, long time. Way before my dad was even born. They had no children themselves and they were kind, very kind. They always had the best Christmas decorations and they decorated the old oak tree in town. They put up lanterns and lights and tinsel. When Tommy's dog got injured Mr Grindlehurst made a little cart so he could pull himself around. Mrs Grindlehurst sang in the church choir but, to be honest, I don't really think she was very good. Sorry Mrs Grindlehurst" Polly said as she looked across at the chair where she sat. Mrs Grindlehurst just continued to stare back with the same blank expression.

Archie smiled and reached into the folds of his jacket where he retrieved a long slender violin bow. He beat out a small rhythm on the neck of the violin, rat a tat tat, and then struck his first tentative note. He struck another and another, a slow mournful song began to form and fill the room. Polly felt the sound wash over her. Sadness reached inside of her and she felt tears form in the corner of her eyes. All of a sudden the song stopped and Polly felt the sadness fly out of her.

"That's not right, no, not right at all" Archie said. "Polly my dear, please stand and follow my lead."

Polly stood and watched Archie as he began to stamp his feet.

Bum, boom, bum, bum, bum.

Archie jumped with every stamp of his foot, shaking the furniture and causing the ornaments to wobble on the sideboards. Polly copied his dance and together their feet beat out the rhythm.

Bum, boom, bum, bum, bum.

"That's it Polly my girl. Now don't stop." Polly continued to dance on her own.

Bum, boom, bum, bum, bum.

Bum, boom, bum, bum, bum.

Bum, boom, bum, bum, bum.

Archie laughed and shouted over the beat.

"Not a sad song, no, not at all. We will have no dirge for Mr and Mrs Grindlehurst." He raised the violin and placed it back into the crook of his neck and struck the strings with his bow. A loud clear note sang out. "Dance Polly, dance my girl."

A wonderful jaunty jig filled the air and the tempo increased as the notes weaved together. Polly kept time with Archie furiously dancing and stamping, adding her own beat to the hypnotic sound of the violin. Polly looked down at her feet as colourful dust began to appear. Every time her foot hit the floor it was like stamping in a puddle and colourful dust would splash up all around her ankles. Bright colours; purple, orange, red and yellow.

"That's it my girl." Archie shouted over the music.

The bright coloured dust was still rising up with each and every stamp of her feet but it was now coming to rest in drifts. Polly danced faster and watched amazed as the colours at the edge of the pile began to swirl clockwise around her stomping feet. Faster and faster the dust swirled and faster and faster Polly danced. The blizzard of colour began to lift of the floor and swirled around her legs, then her body, and soon she was encased in a tornado of colour. It continued to rise and swirl above her head as Polly's feet continued to beat out the strong rhythm.

Bum, boom, bum, bum, bum.

Bum, boom, bum, bum, bum.

Bum, boom, bum, bum, bum.

Archie's hands continued to dance up and down the neck of the violin filling the air with music. The blizzard of colour circled above her head and then began to separate into two smaller circles. The tornadoes of colour moved apart, slowly at first but then as if propelled by some unseen force they raced in opposite directions. The bright colourful clouds crashed into Mr and Mrs Grindlehurst at the same time and vanished, absorbed by the dazed old couple.

"Polly" Archie shouted. "Stop."

Silence filled the room and Polly looked at the old couple. They looked lost, confused, as their eyes searched the room, their eyes met and they smiled, a smile so pure and full of happiness. Having found each other again they closed their eyes and sank back into their armchairs and they both breathed one last time.

"Polly we have done all we can. Now we must leave."

### Chapter 4

The farm looked the same as every other little building that he had come across. Yet another small weary structure made entirely of wood. The old sagging roof was struggling to hold up the weight the weight of the vast blue sky. The timber rotted and the wind whistled through the cracks, calling to him. Could this be the place?

To keep out of sight the tall and unusual man hunkered down amidst the bushes and brambles. His old knees popping, breaking and disturbing the silence that always accompanied him. He reached into his jacket and removed a strange conical device. Leaning forward and twisting his head he placed the small end against his left ear. Had he found the song for which he searched?

Listening, he focused all his attention. The corner of his lips turned up as he detected the subtle melancholic notes for which he searched. The once happy and joyful song had been smashed and rearranged. The notes jarred against each other and he moistened his lips in anticipation of the meal to come. His pupils dilated as his pulse quickened, the crescendo of sweet sorrow drifted across the open fields. He took a deep shuddery breath that shook his skeletal frame as he listened to the song, the song that he must own.

The notes began to drift and vanish in the morning breeze. He concentrated harder, desperate to savour the taste. The sounds of nature intruding; birds singing, the steady hum of floating bees, the rushing water bubbling in the stream, all trying to hinder and disguise the song for which he searched.

Too late he thought. It was no more than a distraction and he could still detect the sweet cloy melancholy hanging in the air. The song began to drift, fading in and out. His brows furrowed.

"Shut up" shouted the tall and unusual man as he swiped at a bird that flew overhead. The small Blue Tit swooped down and away from his outstretched arm.

The tall man stood with his strange bronze device pressed against his ear. The sound was fading. He staggered through the brambles chasing the diminishing song. He shoved the listening horn back into his jacket and cursed the taste on his lips. Too long had been wasted on that old couple. He sprang over a small hedgerow and ignored the pain in his old legs as he started to run, his desire and hunger driving him on.

### Chapter 5

"Are you hungry my dear?" Archie asked leaning down and producing an apple from behind Polly's ear.

"Thanks." Polly said taking the apple from his hand.

Archie removed his jacket and cast it over an old log. He sat down and patted the log beside where he sat. Polly joined him and began taking little bites of the red apple, not even registering the tart taste as her thoughts continued to swirl around her head, each one bumping and jostling for her attention. Yet none of them granted her any comfort.

"Miss Polly you are staring at that apple as if it contains all the many mysteries of the universe. Tell me, why do you study it so, surely that is a delicacy for the mouth and not for the eyes."

Polly looked up at Archie. How had she ended up here?

"My dear" he asked "would you care to hear a song."

Polly coughed as the tartness of the apple caught in the back of her throat and Archie laughed.

"No, no my dear I have no intention of inflicting my dreadful voice upon your good self. Good gracious no. If you would grant me some of your time and attention I would like to teach you how to listen, how to truly listen and open your senses to the wonder all around you. Everywhere there is music, and everywhere there is music there is beauty. All you have to do is, listen."

Archie stood and walked to the centre of the clearing, he pulled up the sleeves on his old woollen shirt and insured the buttons were fastened on his waistcoat. He made an elaborate bow in Polly's direction. Archie brought his hands together and then swished them through the air and began conducting his imaginary orchestra. Polly began to blush and her feet shifted as she watched Archie performing his strange dance. She thought about clapping to bring this uncomfortable spectacle to an end when Archie pointed to a nearby tree.

Polly followed his finger and watched as two small birds, a pair of song thrushes, hopped to the edge of the branch. Archie cleared his throat and the tiny birds bowed back to him.

Polly looked back at Archie who raised his eyebrows and then moved his hand slowly through the air. One of the birds began singing and as Archie's other hand described a slow arc through the air Polly heard the second bird join in.

Polly couldn't help but smile and watched as Archie nodded towards the trunk of an old oak tree that stood at the edge of the clearing. A tiny head appeared at the base of the tree. Archie again cleared his throat and a squirrel edged out from behind the tree.

Archie continued to conduct the birds with his left hand and with his right hand he pointed at the squirrel. Archie's finger flicked up and down and the squirrel ran over to the base of the tree and began to scrap at the rough bark, adding a steady beat to the bird's melody.

"You see Polly there is music everywhere and once you learn how to listen you need never be alone."

"Archie, why must I leave my father? Is there nothing we can do? Couldn't we set a trap for him and try to catch him."

"My dear you are a very bold and resourceful child and I don't doubt that if you used all your wits we certainly could spring a trap and ensnare my brother but what then? We couldn't take him to a police constable and I don't believe either of us could do him harm. To run and hide, that is best. I did not live to be the grand old age of one thousand nine hundred and forty eight by engaging in reckless acts. We will hide and he will get bored. Then and only then do we return."

"I can't wait till he gets bored, when will that be?" Polly turned away from Archie and swung her foot at the apple core that she had discarded onto the floor. A cloud of dust sprang up as her foot scraped the dry dirt floor striking the apple core she sent it sailing through the air in the direction of the tree. The squirrel bounded behind the tree, avoiding the flying apple core.

Polly watched as the squirrel re-emerged from behind the tree and stood on his hind legs, screaming obscenities that Polly couldn't understand. Polly turned to Archie.

"What did he say?" she demanded.

"It was just the standard curse of a squirrel. He hopes that winter is long and hard on you, that you forget were you have hidden all your nuts, he also hopes all your fur falls out."

Polly stuck her tongue out at the squirrel. His eyes widened at the fresh insult, the squirrel turned his back on Polly and returned to all fours. His bushy tail went stiff and pointed up towards the sky as he sprayed his urine in Polly's direction. She managed to jump out of the way as the hot stinking urine splashed the ground in front of her. The squirrel had already vanished by the time Polly looked up and Archie was laughing so hard that little snot bubbles had formed at the edge of each nostril.

"That's it." Polly stated "I'm going home. I have had enough of all this nonsense. If your brother comes I'll get my catapult and I'll stay away all night. I'll show him. Just you see." She turned on her heels and stormed out of the clearing.

"Wait Polly please." Archie stormed after her, jumping over the log. His foot caught on the edge of his jacket and as he landed, the coat became tangled in his feet. He waved his hands looking for something to grasp onto as the jacket wrapped itself ever tighter around his feet. His cry was cut short by a loud thump as his head was greeted, quite forcefully, by a large rock that jutted from the dry earth.

Polly turned back and her shoulders slumped as she saw Archie on the floor, unconscious. How is he going to keep me safe? She asked herself as she walked back over to the prone figure on the floor. She bent down and watched his chest rise and fall as if he was asleep.

"Archie, are you okay?" she asked shaking his shoulder. His eyes opened.

"Ah my dear Polly" he mumbled as he focused in on her.

"Come on let's get you up." Polly helped him into a sitting position and Archie paused there waiting for his head to clear, he spoke quietly and took Polly a moment to realise he was addressing her.

"... maybe, yes. But it is treacherous. Dangerous and she so young. But you can't let him, not again no. There may be a way. Polly a way we could trap him." He looked into her eyes. "Trap him for good. Finally put an end to his devilment. It is treacherous and there is no certainty that we will make it back but it might just work. Polly you must do exactly as I say, one false step and all will be lost."

Archie rose to his feet with renewed vigour, the knock on his head having dislodged his courage from its hiding place. He grasped Polly by the hand and led her from the clearing and down the woodland path. Archie began whistling a tune and Polly looked up at the old peculiar man as a smile crept onto her face. He lifted her arm high and Polly pirouetted under his arm. His feet tapped out a strange beat.

The sun cut down through the canopy of the trees, forming a natural spotlight. The old man danced into the circle of light and continued tap tapping in time with the tune he whistled. Polly shook her head and wondered what in the world she had agreed. Taking a bow he re-joined Polly and with their arms linked they continued down the forest path.

#

Onwards, faster and faster, he followed the lingering trace of her song only pausing to listen. He found himself heading back the way he himself had come, back towards the small cottage and the cause of his delay. The tall and unusual man walked through the centre of the village which now was starting to come alive. Dogs growled at his passing only to flee whimpering when he turned to face them. Even the bravest fiercest dog knew when it had met its match.

His large brimmed hat hid his features and kept his face in shadow despite the bright sun. No one bid him good morning, no one said hello. No one dared interrupt the steady pace he had set.

The song guided him back to the small cottage. He reached down, unclasped the gate and walked up the garden path. The bees fled, the birds ceased singing, even the trees in the forest held steady in the morning breeze. He paused, something was different. He listened. The silence was broken by a deep guttural sound. The sound of oil boiling and bubbling as his laughter became louder and louder.

His brother had been here, interfering again. So that was why she had fled. No matter. He turned from the cottage and his long legs began to eat up the ground, faster and faster not even pausing to open the gate as he took it in one giant bound. Into the forest he ran.

### Chapter 6

Polly and Archie followed the path through the centre of the forest, it was approaching midday and the strong sunlight pierced through the canopy overhead. Ahead of them smoke from the gypsy camp curled up into the sky before drifting and joining the clouds.

"WHAT HO!"

Polly and Archie both turned at the shout.

"WHAT HO I SAY!"

Racing up the path was an old cart, out in front, straining at the bit was an angry looking horse. Straining with the reins, trying to get the horse under control was the fattest man Polly had ever seen. His rolls of fat undulated with every bump and his ponytail swished out behind him as he struggled to get the cart under control.

"OUT OF THE ROAD!" the large shirtless man shouted as Archie reached down and pulled Polly off the path.

The shirtless man pulled hard on the reins as the cart wheel rolled over another large bump, his belly swung with the momentum and pitched him over the side of the cart.

"OOOMPH." He landed flat on his back and lay there as the horse and the cart vanished down the Old Huntsman path, the horse naying his victory.

Polly walked over to the man, the second she had found flat on his back. This was starting to become a regular occurrence and one she could very easily live without. Polly was pleased to see that at least this one was conscious.

"Good morning, I suppose you need some help?" Polly asked with her fists balled and placed on her hips.

"That I do but I'm thinking it might take more than a little girl and an old man to get Skinny Pops back on his feet. It's my back you see." His large laugh shook all seven of his bellies, the rolls of fat rolling like waves and crashing against his ginormous chin. "Oh ah, it even hurts to chuckle. Now be a love and run along, my camp is not far, just carry on down that lane and tell them Skinny Pops has come a cropper."

"Polly" Archie said "I shall wait here with good Mister Pops, now run along and summon help."

Polly turned and started heading down the Old Huntsman. She knew the camp wasn't far and soon she could hear the sound of children playing and dogs barking, men arguing and women cackling. She could smell the cooking pots, simmering away cuts of old mutton and earthy vegetables and her mouth started to water.

She came out into the clearing known as Harlicks hollow. The gypsies wooden caravans painted in every imaginable shade, sprouted up out of the grass like giant colourful mushrooms. Half-naked children, their bodies the colour of dark chestnut ran in between the caravans, dogs snapping happily at their heels. Groups of young men stood around, glaring, looking sullen. Impressing the teenage girls with their cool indifference as they described imaginary battles, fights they had won. The teenage girls making daisy chains, acting with the same indifference to the boys they would no doubt marry one day.

Old men, their heavily muscled hairy arms resting on their substantial paunches as they sat dealing cards, talking about imaginary battles, fights they had won when their hair was less thin and their bones less weary. Old women sat in a circle stitching, knitting and watching, allowing the men the fallacy of their youth.

Polly walked into the camp, invisible in the hive of activity; she walked past the horses grazing and headed towards the first caravan. Not as brightly painted as the other wooden carts she placed her foot on the bottom of the three steps that led up at the back of the wagon. She raised her hand to knock.

"I wouldn't do that my lady."

Polly's hand paused an inch from striking the wooden side of the cart. She turned her head and caught sight of a young boy walking out from between the horses

CRUNCH. He took a bite from the apple he carried and flicked his head to clear a strand of hair that had wandered across his face. The boy reached out and stroked the nearest horse, a large grey gelding and he opened his other hand offering the remainder of the apple. The horse nuzzled his hand and crunched loudly as he took the treat.

"That cart is belonging to Charlie the tooth. You don't want to be waking him this early, he can be most unpleasant even at the best of times and this is most definitely not the best of times." His welcoming smile looked bright against his chestnut skin as he offered his hand. "My name is William and this here is my camp, how can I be of service my lady."

Polly took his hand and shook it. "I've come to get help, Skinny Pops has fell off his cart and ..."

"Skinny Pops is hurt?" William asked before placing his fingers in his mouth. He blew a whistle loud and long, followed by three quick whistles. All activity in the camp stopped. The small children stopped, not moving an inch. The old women placed down the darns of wool and quickly rounded up the young ones, shepherding them into the wooden carts. Even the dogs fell silent and ran obediently up the steps into the caravans. The older children vanished as if by magic.

The group of men playing cards rose as one and produced clubs, knives, even a couple of shotguns. No longer looking like tired old men, their eyes danced with menace.

Polly took a step back.

There was a crash behind her. The door to the cart was flung open and Polly turned, an old man stood there in the open doorway. His skinny arms wrestled with the braces on his pants as he tried to hook them over his shoulders. Giving up he let the thin pieces of elastic fall over his pants describing an x over his groin, as if marking his and every-man's weakness.

The few strands of white hair he owned stood up wild and wispy as he began to dance around waving his fists as his eyes bulged.

"Charlie's here. I'll fight the lot of ye's. Come one, come all, form a line. Who's brave enough to do the old dance with Charlie the ghost?" He began dancing in the doorway, shadow boxing and smiled revealing the one tooth he had left.

"Right then, looks like I'll be coming to you." Charlie the tooth took a step forward, his leg caught in one of his braces and he raced down the three steps on unsteady legs. The ground came to greet him faster than he expected and he landed straight on his face. Polly felt well prepared to deal with another unconscious old man. She started to walk towards him when William placed his hand on her shoulder. He raised his finger and pushed forward his ear, indicating to Polly to listen. She could hear gentle snores and Polly looked at Charlie's chest as it rose and fell with each snore.

"Charlie's moonshine liquor is the best there is. He won't even remember this when he wakes."

"Was'appenin young William? Why did you sound the alarm?" Polly turned as the group of men approached, unfriendly and stern looks on their faces. The man in front looked at Polly, his features all squashed and mashed to his face.

"It's Skinny Pops, this here young miss said he has come a cropper. Fallen from his cart no less, he took that frisky mare out early doors trying to break her in." Polly watched William as he addressed the adults with his chest puffed out. "Reckon she'll be halfway to Babylon by now."

"Skinny Pops is always the same with drink, thinks he's the man he was twenty years ago." The rest of the group nodded and grumbled their agreement and Polly noticed that the assortment of weapons had vanished as quickly as they had appeared. "Come on lads let's follow this here young miss and get ole seven bellies back to the camp."

William raised his eyebrows at Polly signalling for her to lead the way. She turned away from the camp and headed past the snoring prone figure of Charlie the tooth. The small party headed back down the old huntsman and the man with the squashed face whistled a tune. William jogged a little to catch up with Polly, falling into step alongside her.

"I've not never seen you round these parts young miss, how come you happen to be down this way." William said giving his head a flick, dislodging the stray strand of hair that had fell over his eye. His habit of flicking his head had begun to irritate Polly.

"Why don't you cut that?" she asked.

"Cut what my lady?" he asked looking puzzled.

"Your hair, it just seems to me that if it was a little bit shorter you wouldn't have to keep flicking it back all the time." Polly smiled, pleased to be able to offer him some advice after all his help.

"Erm, I was, erm just trying to grow it is all. I thought it looked ..."

"My father says only girls should have long hair and anyway I think it makes your head look too big" she said just as a matter of fact. Polly turned and smiled at William and saw the hurt in his eyes as she realised the weight of her words. This seemed to happen every time she spoke to boys, she had a terrible habit of saying the wrong thing or the right thing in the wrong way. She watched Williams's cheeks colour.

"It does make you look awfully skinny though" she said with a big smile.

William mumbled something about heading back to the camp, he turned and ran off down the path. Polly shook her head, no doubt she had said the wrong thing again. Boys, she would never understand them.

Polly could hear voices and loud raucous laughter coming from down the road. They walked around a coppice of trees and Skinny Pops and Archie came into view. They sat on the floor, resting their backs against one another, propping each other up. A bottle was being waved around by Archie, the dark green liquid sloshing around inside like an angry sea. He passed the bottle over his shoulder to Skinny Pops who made a quiet remark about drink and beautiful women. Together they erupted into laughter and Skinny Pops drunk deep off the foul green liquid.

The leader of the group had stopped whistling and leaned down, whispering into Polly's ear. "Looks like Skinny Pops is not the only one in drink." He stood and shouted. "Come on boys let's get the old general back on his feet."

It was then Archie noticed Polly and her small party. He began to stand, without his prop, Skinny Pops fell flat on his back.

"Ah my dear your back" Archie said clambering to his feet. "Polly you'll be pleased to know that Good Mister Pops has offered to share the warmth of his fire. Tonight my dear we shall join them for a feast unsurpassed anywhere in the three counties. Gentlemen" he said addressing the advancing troupe of gypsies. "Please allow me to introduce myself. The name in which I now travel is Archie, a wonderful name, don't you think. Very indicative of the times I dare to add. My young companion who stands before you is Miss Polly and we are both delighted to make your acquaintance." He leaned forward bowing as deep as his protesting knees would allow. As he stood, his eyes swam, and he reached out with his arm to steady himself.

"Oh dear" he said as he stumbled towards a hedge at the side of the road. He collided and vanished into the shrubbery.

Skinny Pops had managed to get himself up into a sitting position and his laughter filled the air, Archie's head popped up like a startled daisy and soon his laughter joined that of his drinking companion. Polly turned, not the least bit impressed with her so called guardians behaviour.

Her anger carried her down the lane back towards the camp; she had no intention of staying with Archie, the bumbling old fool. He was more of a hindrance than anything else. Tomorrow, she would go home, she would get her sling shot and she would look for this man who wanted her song.

She walked into the camp, not even registering the staring faces or the yapping dogs that nipped at her heels. She walked past the horses and past Charlie; who was now sat up, leaning back against one of the giant cart wheels, drinking from a large plastic bottle filled with the same green liquid. He slurped, he burped, then continued his conversation. Talking to no one in particular, he made every effort to stress his point and validate his argument.

She stormed past him; at what point do adults suddenly become idiots? Does it happen overnight? She felt her eyes starting to sting and knew that tears where coming, she wouldn't cry, she mustn't. Polly started to run heading towards a row of trees. She charged into the undergrowth and dodged the trees.

Polly stopped as she left the last of the trees behind. A gentle slope of grass led down to the start of a vast river. Pebbles bordered the edge of the water and welcomed each wave as an old friend.

Polly slowed down and wiped the tears with the back of her hand. She took a deep shaky breath and then lashed out with her foot kicking the nearest pebble and sending it flying into the lake. Why do they always let you down? They were always so selfish.

"ARRGH." Polly lashed out at another larger rock and sent it hurtling into the water. Then she bent down and sat on the pebbles. She removed her shoes and started to rub her bruised toes, they had already turned an angry red and the nail on her big toe was bent back, broken and bleeding. She dipped her toe into the cool bubbling water at the edge of the river and felt the pain ease.

"Excuse me young miss. Do you mind if I join you?"

Polly turned around and William was stood on the pebbles behind her. He smiled at Polly and she realised that his fringe had been hacked off in a rather crude manner. His messy hair looked like it was perfectly suitable for a bird to nest in. Polly also realised that she was quite pleased to see him. She patted the floor beside where she sat and he stepped forward and stooped down, joining her at the edge of the river. Her honesty had done nothing but hurt William's feelings so she decided to be more tactful.

"Your hair looks nice" she lied.

"Thanks, if I'm being totally honest I hated my stupid hair. I was only growing it because all the older boys have long hair. Are you okay Polly? You seem to be mighty upset."

"I'm just getting sick of being let down all the time. Every adult seems, I don't know, they. I thought they were supposed to look after us."

"Well, young lady allow me to offer my services."

Polly couldn't help but laugh at his earnest offer, he looked so serious. He was so small and skinny that he looked like a gust of wind would blow him all the way to the moon. She didn't wish to offend him but the laugh just slipped out like a bit of excess wind. This time he didn't seem offended and he joined in with her laughter.

"Really Polly, sometimes it can help just to talk through your problems."

Polly looked at him and could see the warmth in his eyes. She began to tell him everything, about her mother, the farm, her father and her recent adventure with Archie. It all came out in a rush of words, as she listened to herself her problems didn't seem as bad. Nothing had changed she just knew she wasn't alone. She even laughed when she told William how Archie had fell into the bush. He sat there and listened and laughed till Polly was all talked out.

"My father died two years back now" William said "I still think about him, all the time really. Sometimes I am so frightened, so scared that I will forget his ways and I try to hold onto him. But still his memory seems to fade. Not in a bad way. I can still remember all the good things we did its just now the remembering doesn't bring the pain."

Polly smiled and her heart did feel a touch lighter. She threw a stone that skimmed across the top of the surface of the water. It bounced once, twice, three times and then splosh as it sank.

Polly lifted another pebble and started turning it over in her hands as she started to speak "My father once told me a story. It was about a goldfish and an elephant. You see the elephant is well known for having an extremely good memory, so good that he never forgets anything but the goldfish, his memory is awful and pretty much straight away he forgets. It just pops right out of his head."

"Anyway" Polly continued "one day an elephant and a lion were drinking at the water's edge, keeping cool in the morning sun. The elephant and lion were good friends and often spent their time in the company of each other. As they drank, a little fish swam up alongside them, a little goldfish, and he jumped in and out of the waves.

'Good morning' he shouted and seemed delighted to have met the elephant and lion.

'Are you having a good day' the goldfish asked.

The elephant answered he was having a fine day and bid the little fish good morning. They discussed the weather and exchanged pleasantries before saying their farewells. The goldfish swam off. The lion and the elephant began to stroll around the edge of the lake and five minutes later up swam the gold fish. The same conversation was repeated and again the gold fish swam off to the centre of the lake. Confused the elephant turned to the lion that was both old and wise and asked if that was the same gold fish.

'It was' the old lion answered and then the goldfish appeared again.

The same conversation was repeated and again the goldfish swam off. By now the elephant was beyond confused and bordering on exasperation. The elephant shook his head and his giant ears cooled the lion as he remarked on the stupid and dim witted fish. The wise old lion laughed.

'Why?' he asked 'Why was the goldfish dim witted and stupid?'

'Ignorant' said the elephant 'Ignorant of the past, forgetful. Has a memory like a, well like a goldfish.'

'Elephant my good friend, you have an excellent memory, the finest in the animal kingdom. Now think, and think long and hard. What wonders have you seen this past week?'

The elephant thought about the events of today, then yesterday, then the day before. The silence stretched on and on until it was disturbed by the gentle laughter of the lion.

'Dear elephant, the goldfish does not remember like you my friend. For him each moment is new, painted fresh. He stares in wonder as every morning the sun is born out of the deep blue lake. Every night he watches the moon climb gracefully into the sky. A sky filled with giant fluffy animals. You see the gold fish is blessed with the sight of a child and the world around him never stales. His bitterness, his grudges, his problems float away like clouds on the breeze, never troubling him again.'

With that the lion turned and began to walk away from the lake towards the grassy plains leaving the elephant alone with his thoughts."

"That was an excellent tale Polly but I'm afraid all this talking has made me hungry." William stood and offered Polly his hand. He helped her to her feet and then he reached down and collected her shoes. He led her away from the water's edge and back towards the camp.

Together they entered the camp and Polly was conscious of the stares from the other young girls and watched as they now took notice of the young man by her side. William pointed towards the horse pen and what looked to be the cart that nearly ran Polly off the road.

Asleep in the back and cuddled like husband and wife was Archie and Skinny Pops. William laughed and Polly joined in. The sun was shining bright and the warmth from Williams hand seemed to reach inside her, she looked up and watched as the clouds seemed to melt away.

#

His power faded with each step, the warm sunlight draining him. Feet tired, moving through sludge, thick heavy sludge, his brow slick with sweat. The man moved amongst the shadows as best he could but he knew he must stop, he must feed, his strength failing. Stopping in the shadow of an old oak tree he reached into his coat removing his trusted violin.

His fingers ran up the dark black neck, caressing the silver ridges. He grasped and formed a c note and then he placed the violin into the crook of his neck. His other hand held the bow and he pulled it down across the strings sending out a mournful sigh. Casting his net far and wide he played a beautiful song, an enticing song.

He waited.

Lost in the music he was not aware of how much time had passed. It was a rustle that drew his attention. He looked up, a dog. A large red setter crept from the bush in front of him. His red coat shined and his friendly eyes settled on the man playing his song. The dog barked a greeting and the old man's hungry eyes did nothing to frighten him away; the music now had a hold. The dog padded forward.

"AH my sweet, would you care to dance?"

The old man continued to play as he stood. The song he played increased in its pace and tempo as he began to stamp his feet. The dog began to jump and bark like an excited puppy, forgetting his years, chasing his tail as he had done many years before. Faster and faster he went. Round and round, why couldn't he catch it? His barks turned to whimpers as he realised he could never catch it, the tail was his but still he tried.

Running, panting, running, panting. Round and round he went as the music cut through the sounds of the forest. Colours began to rise out of the dog and the tall man leaned back, opening his mouth to drink in the song. A snack, it would sustain him.

The old man tasted the colours as they entered his stretched gullet. His violin slowed, the beat stopped as his feet became still. The dog collapsed in a heap. Its lustrous red coat was now devoid of all colour. An old weary dog lay before him.

The sound of a twig snapping broke the silence and the old man looked up, he caught movement in the trees and watched as a young boy ran away. Fool, again his hunger had caused him to act rashly, too early. If only he had waited instead of settling for that old mangy mutt he could have dined liked a king. Feeling refreshed he watched as the child ran away, he knew he could catch him now his strength was returned. He detected the subtle hints of the song he sought. Decisions, decisions, the tasty morsel fleeing through the trees or the delicacy for which he had come?

He decided to leave the small boy fleeing through the trees and sprang off in pursuit of his prey, leaving the dog alone.

Still.

Whimpering.

Empty.

### Chapter 7

"Now Polly." Archie seemed to address everyone as he stood. "I think you will agree that our good friend Mr Pops has been a most agreeable host. The banquet he provided well, I think our empty plates say everything and then to provide us with a bed." He burped and Polly closed her eyes. "As I was saying the empty beds show us what? What indeed? Yes. As a host, anyway, I must bid you all a safe journey and a good night."

Archie fell back into his chair and smiled a lob-sided grin. His eyes searched around the room and then another burp escaped his mouth as his head fell forward, hitting the table with a satisfying thump. Soon his snores could be heard echoing around the table.

Polly and William excused themselves from the table and walked over to the fire in the middle of the camp. The settlement had already divided along comfortable and familiar lines. The older teenagers sat around the far side of the fire strumming a guitar and trying to steal some of the closely guarded moonshine. The small children, tired and wary of the encroaching darkness, curled on the parents laps and listened to old stories. Young couples wondered off to the lake in search of privacy and a glimpse at the stars in the heavens above.

Polly and William sat down at the edge of the fire and watched as the flames danced and hissed and cackled, listening to the song it sang. The table they had dined upon was folded away with great care, everything cleaned and packed away. The chores finally complete, the audience around the fire grew. Musical instruments were passed around, everyone was encouraged to play. Polly ended up with an old battered tambourine and poor William was given a triangle to strike.

They played a wonderful lively song, William and Polly joined in with their own instruments as the older men dictated the song with their fiddles and harps. A voice pierced through the music and seemed to speak straight to Polly. She looked around for the singer and there swaying dangerously close to the fire and still clutching his bottle of hooch stood Charlie the Tooth, his fine voice rising and falling with the melody of the song.

The music played on and on, a number of people rising to take centre stage. Each song telling a story, how they travelled, why they travelled, what they believed. The music spoke of friendships forged through hardships, the rolling hills, the cold nights. Some songs were nonsense, some songs were rude and some songs were just ridiculous. One young boy stood up and sang out the instructions for tent-building; another young girl sang the recipe for pea and ham soup. An elderly woman, barely able to stand, with a clear and strong voice sang the story of creation.

Skinny Pops stood and the music began to fade.

"Tonight we have fed and entertained as is expected of our people. Wandering hills and valleys has taught us the importance of a kind turn. We have shared our fire and our songs and we offer our hand of friendship to our guests, nay, to our brother and sister. The hour is late so off to bed with you all." Skinny Pops walked over to the place were Charlie the tooth had fell asleep. He lifted him with great care and carried him to his cart, Charlie still keeping tight hold of his now empty bottle.

"Come on Polly." William said as he stood. Polly gazed up at him. She was pleased her adventure had led her to this camp. As she stood all the members of the camp approached, they took her hand and with a kiss they welcomed her as a sister. Polly had never felt so welcome.

"I can show you to your bed" William said. "Skinny Pops has found you a bed in with old Jenny, it's mighty comfortable and she is a wonderful old dear but I was wondering. I've got to do the watch tonight. The weather is mild and we can get it nice and warm. When I do the watch I sleep under the cart so even if it rains you won't get wet and I was just thinking that as you ..."

"I would love to stay with you." Polly answered as William smiled back at her, the darkness hiding his embarrassment. She watched as Skinny Pops lifted Archie into his arms. "I don't think he would miss me anyway. Come on." she said and reached for William's hand. "You better show me to your cart."

William began to relax as he led her towards the edge of the camp. He pointed out his neighbours and amused her with stories. They came to the edge of the camp and William stopped in front of a brightly painted wooden cart, it was dark blue and it was edged and highlighted with silver. She marvelled at the intricate detail, gargoyles, angels, animals and trees were all chiselled into the wooden frame.

Williams's mother popped her head out of the door and offered Polly her own bed.

"Only if you is sure my dear, now William you look after the young miss and you best be honourable" she said handing them a bundle of blankets and a hot flask filled with hot chocolate.

William arranged the sheets on the floor under the cart and then poured Polly a cup of hot chocolate as she climbed underneath.

"Are you really going to stay up all night?" Polly asked.

"No, I don't think I could even if I tried. Every cart provides a watcher and we all sleep under the carts. We just lay down with our ear pressed to the floor. See." William lay on the floor and pressed his left ear to the floor. "Try it Polly, lie down and pop your ear on the floor, just like I am."

Polly lay down and pressed the side of her head to the floor. She couldn't hear anything it was just fuzzy and muffled.

"William you can hear everything" she said.

"Really, I'm glad you're staying with us tonight you must have really good ears. I was just feeling for the vibrations. I think we'll be perfectly safe with your ears tonight."

William began to pat down the covers and made a couple of bedlike shapes, not ideal but she was looking forwards to sleeping outside. Polly stretched out and found it to be quite comfortable. As she pulled one of the covers up and around her she felt all the weariness of the day descend on her aching limbs.

"William, can I ask you a question? Do you sit around the fire and sing every night."

"Of course we do, those songs are our history. You see we don't get to be reading much, only the pastor knows his words real well. So, that's how we learn, through our songs. We tell our tales and learn our lore. Everyone plays and every one sings no matter how good or how bad, it's just our way."

"I imagine that's a nice way to learn, much better than going to school."

"I don't know sometimes I wish that I could go and read about aliens and moon rockets. I know how to do my basic adding up but that's all. School doesn't sound so bad to me, wearing a nice smart uniform and being called master. I think I would suit being a master. But I suppose it always looks better than it is and singing is our way and we do alright by it. We have tales you know, old tales about songs, magic songs that keep away boggits, fairies and snooys. The old still sing them to the young before bed, it protects the little uns and the camp. Sometimes I don't think it true but sometimes when I am down here on my own, well, I am still mighty glad they sing them. Now you make sure you be sharpening them ears. Goodnight Polly."

"Goodnight William."

Thoughts span round and round Polly's head, there was no way she would get any sleep tonight. She listened to Williams snores and soon her own were added as she sunk further and further into the comfort of sleep.

### Chapter 8

"Polly, we must go." Archie whispered.

Polly's eyes struggled to open, it was still dark. She arched her back as she stretched and gently moved the covers away from her body. Polly crawled out from under the cart and continued to stretch as she stood, she reached out with her hand and pulled Archie down.

"Archie we can't just leave. We can't just go without saying goodbye" she said careful of raising her voice as she spoke into his ear.

"My dear child I did converse with Skinny Pops last night, I explained the danger we are in. These good folk have a name for my brother and their songs speak of him. They know him as Abaddon."

"From what I have seen Archie he is definitely a bad `un."

"No, no, my dear, that is his name." Archie chuckled. "A bad `un he is indeed. Anyway they have songs to ward him off and keep their camp safe but the sooner we leave the better it will be for us all. They will not be caught unawares, not now, but we still cannot stay and we mustn't delay."

Polly looked under the cart at William still fast asleep, so much for springing into action when he felt the vibrations. It was a good job the mothers still sang to ward off evil because if all the night watchman had Williams's reactions the camp would be over run before he had even stirred.

Polly asked Archie to wait and ran off into the trees. Careful to stay near the edge she foraged and collected as many wildflowers as she could. Removing one of her bobbles she fastened it around the bunch of flowers and she then pulled her hair tight into a pony tail using the remaining bobble to tie it tight.

Polly climbed back under the cart and looked at him sleeping, his wonky haircut poking out of the top of the cover and she placed the flowers alongside him. It wasn't much, just her way of saying thank you. She edged out from under the cart and stood, Archie had begun to walk towards the line of trees and she ran to catch him.

They headed towards the river and Archie, having saved some from the banquet last night, passed a bread roll to Polly. It was wrapped in a napkin and Polly found to her delight that it was still smeared with butter. Archie then handed Polly an apple and a small canteen a tasty mixture of water and elderflower. They broke their fast as they walked through the forest and with her belly full she watched the forest come alive as the sun climbed into sky warming her.

The trees began to thin and they came across the rivers. The water undulating with the gentle breeze, waved at her as it rose and fell. Tiny suns blinking at her from the top of each crest as it caught the reflection of the bright yellow face, twinkling like Christmas tree lights.

"Polly you look radiant. I think that is the first genuine smile I have seen on your face and I do believe our sister sun is looking down in envy."

Polly didn't realise she had been smiling as times past played in her head. Before her mother has passed away they had come down to the river's edge. Under the summer sun they had spent the day laughing and swimming; diving in and out of the waves, trying to catch fish with their bare hands, chasing ducks. She felt her smile pulled down by a weight in her stomach, pulling her heart string. She remembered her mother, chasing her in and out of the water, smiling and laughing; a laugh that seemed a stranger to her eyes.

"Memories, they can be bittersweet can they not? Still, they should be cherished, both the good and bad, for it is them that mould us. Make us who we are. We each carry a song, a song that stretches throughout our lives. At times it can be a crazy polka" Archie said and stamped his feet and waved his hands. Then he turned in a circle with his arms held out "at times a gentle waltz. There are times also, sad times, when it sounds like a drum beating slowly. These are hard times Polly, these are times when we are lost and most in need of laughter and song. Memories my dear can restart the song, dwell not on the sadness but on the laughter, for laughter is by far the best medicine for a tender soul."

"Archie, my father, I think, well, I think that his song might be broke. I know he loves me but since my mother died he doesn't seem to laugh or sing anymore and I miss him, well, miss the way he was."

"Polly, your father, like you, has his memories. Your smile was radiant and then the sadness crept in. Her passing doesn't change the times you shared, the happiness of that day you remembered. That is yours. You need to share these times with your father, make him see. You can restart his heart."

They walked the edge of the river, going upstream, against the current. Every so often Archie would stop and listen and then continue. The morning was spent following this course.

"Polly this is no good, on and on the river seems to stretch and frankly I am tired of walking" Archie said as he looked up and down the river. He reached into his coat and retrieved his violin. He started to play, his fingers dancing up and down the neck of the violin. He smiled at Polly and nodded towards the river as eight tiny torpedoes raced towards the shore. She edged away from the bank as they vanished into the depths of the water.

A shape broke through the surface as it leapt from the water. Polly recognised the beaver as it gracefully landed on the shore and began to dance, chattering at Archie. Soon it was joined by seven more and the noise became deafening as they danced and sang along with Archie's violin.

Archie continued to play and began shuffling his feet, he then span around and stamped a little beat. The beaver in front copied the old man, he span around and then stamped his feet. Again, Archie performed another dance which all the beavers then copied before turning and diving into the river. They shot off at a great speed, the water rippling in their wake. Polly's eyes followed them into the centre of the river and then they vanished as the dived deep into the water.

Polly searched the surface of the river, waiting for the beavers to resurface. Her eyes spotted movement on the horizon as a boat seemed to be heading in their direction. It was a tiny wooden rowboat and Polly strained her eyes looking for the occupants but it appeared to be empty. It was then she spotted the rope at the front pulled taut as the tiny beavers towed the boat towards the shore where Archie and Polly stood.

"My dear, on a warm summer's day it is the only way to travel" Archie said. He had stopped playing and was watching the beavers bring the boat towards the river bank.

The beavers emerged from the river with the rope in their mouths and the little wooden boat scrapped softly against the pebbles as it came to rest on the bank. The eight beavers waddled towards Archie, they started chattering loudly, jumping and flipping backwards. Archie laughed.

"Very well my good man, a song is a fair payment" he said addressing the beavers "and I am sure Polly would be delighted to dance in your company."

Archie began to play, stamping his feet to add a beat. The beavers began slapping their feet on the floor adding their own percussion. A beaver stepped towards Polly and bowed an invitation to dance. Polly curtsied back and then twirled around to the sound of the music, her blushing cheeks soon faded as she began to enjoy the music and the beavers all surrounded her, slapping their feet, dancing and flipping backwards.

All too soon the music began to slow and fade. The beavers slapped the feet and tails in appreciation as Archie replaced the violin back inside his great coat.

"Dear beavers I am afraid that is all the time we have to spare. If I could impose on you one more request. We seek entrance but my arms are too old and weary and Polly, well, she is a mere pup."

The beavers turned and rushed into the river where they waited for Polly and Archie. Polly climbed into the boat and sat on the small bench at the back. Archie pushed the boat to the edge before climbing in. He took the rope from the front of the boat and tossed the end into the river.

The boat drifted away from the shore. One of the beavers lay on his back and swam alongside the boat. Polly reached over and tickled his stomach. His little paws reached up to his mouth and he looked like he was laughing, chattering his large teeth together. He then floated away from the boat and his friends took it in turns to jump over him, the water spraying, forming iridescent mirages of colour.

Archie joined Polly on the seat at the rear of the boat then he reached up and tilted his hat over his eyes, the shadow a black film blanketing his face. Within seconds deep snores could be heard. Incredulous, Polly thought. Since learning that word she had been waiting for an opportunity to use it. Incredulous, he now expected Polly to row them to god only knows while he slept in the midday sun, truly incredulous.

Polly lurched back in her seat and nearly toppled off the back of the boat. She crawled to the front of the boat and looked out over the bow; the rope at the front of the boat was pulled taut as the eight little beavers pulled them along. Not trusting her sea legs she slithered back to her seat and sat alongside Archie.

Polly found herself drifting along with her thoughts as the scenery rolled by, she thought about what Archie. They were her memories. The past mixed with the present and she watched a kaleidoscope of images as she dozed in the midday sun. She woke with a start as her head lolled forward and then she sat up and wiped the congealed drool from her chin. She could hear a slight rumbling in the distance.

It sounded like someone running a giant bath, Polly strained her eyes. Ahead of the small wooden boat and climbing out of the river was a sheer granite rock face, pockmarked with vegetation. Cascading over the top with a mighty roar and slavering like a hungry dog was the largest waterfall Polly had ever seen.

Polly held onto the sides of the boat as she stood, steadying herself. The beavers strained against the rushing current as they continued upstream.

"Stop" she cried but the beavers paid her no attention and seemed instead to double their effort. She crawled to the front of the boat and Polly tried to untie the knot but her fingers couldn't find purchase. The waterfall was getting closer; they would be smashed to pieces.

"Archie" she shouted "Archie, quick, wake up."

Polly scrambled back to the bench and shook Archie but he just continued to snore. Polly swept the hat of his head, his eyes were firmly shut and shaded by his long grey eyelashes and his tongue lolled out like and exhausted dog.

Polly swept the large hat through the river filling the dome with water; it was leaking out and spilling all over the boat as she jammed the hat back onto Archie's head. She was knocked onto her back as Archie bolted upright. He looked around, eyes wild and staring.

"Why Polly why?" he asked as his eyes retracted into his head.

"Archie we're heading straight for a waterfall, look and the beavers won't stop. I tried, I even tried to untie the rope, I didn't know what else to do and you wouldn't wake up." Polly had to shout above the roar of the waterfall, they were getting closer all the time.

"Polly my dear it is all in hand" Archie said sitting back down, he removed his sodden hat and reached under the wooden bench. In his hand was a large yellow umbrella and he patted the bench next to him. He opened the umbrella and pulled Polly in close.

"You and your father; cold water is never the answer. Ah to be woken gently and greeted with a nice cup of tea. Although, I do feel mighty alert and somewhat refreshed. Perhaps there is some method in your father's madness. Now huddle in close Polly and do not fear."

They sped towards the waterfall and the cliff face. Polly gripped tight to Archie as the water fell about them. She closed her eyes tight and could feel the weight of the water as it thudded onto the umbrella. Archie curled his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in tight as she buried her face. She waited for the crunch as the boat hit the face of the cliff and she waited. The small boats frantic bobbing began to slow and the water splashing down began to ease. She opened her right eye and looked from behind Archie's arm; they appeared to be in a large cave at the back of the waterfall.

"See my dear, nothing at all to worry about" Archie said.

Polly looked around and watched as the light was bounced around by the falling water. The beavers climbed out onto a small shingle beach and dragged the boat up behind them. Archie climbed out first and then offered his hand to Polly guiding her down. Her footing slipped as the shingles crunched and slid beneath her feet; shivering as the water spray on her clothes began to touch her skin. Now they were out of the sun she couldn't believe how cold it was. Archie noticed her discomfort and reached back into the little boat and removed a large orange coat which he dressed Polly in.

It was a bit too big for Polly but she pulled up the zip and then reached into the pockets. She found a pair of fingerless gloves in one pocket which she quickly made use of. In the other pocket she found a small, square paper bag. Pulling it out, she held it up in front of her face to read in the dull light; Fisherman's friends. She tore open the packet and popped one in her mouth and felt the warmth spread through her body. She offered the packet to Archie who declined with a shake of his head. Polly removed her hair bobble and shook her head loosening her hair, then she placed the bobble and the packet back in her pocket.

The beavers stood on the shingle beach inside the cover but seemed unwilling to approach any further. Polly looked back over her shoulder and a dark cave sat there like a black question mark.

Dare you enter?

She looked back at the beavers and Archie thanked them. Not wishing to hang about they turned and waddled towards the water's edge. They dived in and left Polly and Archie alone with only one way to go.

#

At the edge of the camp he huddled in the undergrowth. Gypsies, it had to be gypsies. He could see the faint outline of their songs swirling around the edge of the camp. He would get no joy here. The songs they sang had great power, ancient power. This tribe still knew the potency of music. He would have to wait for nightfall. Then he would skirt the edge of the camp and find the trail of the song. They couldn't have gone far. He was getting close.

For now, hide and rest. His brother will have told them and they would be expecting him. He must be careful. He sat, he watched and he waited.

### Chapter 9

"Here begins the path to the underworld and Polly once we embark on this journey there is no turning back. My dear you must keep all your wits about you, not all the creatures of this world are as accommodating as our good friends the beavers. Come now and stay close."

Together they climbed up onto the rock shelf at the back of the cove and headed towards the dark opening. As they entered Polly felt the darkness wrap around her, smothering her, and she reached out for Archie's hand. She clasped it tight as he led her further into the unnatural darkness.

The passageway closed in all around her and she made herself as small as possible, fearful of catching herself on the side. Even her breath felt constricted. Panic began to rise with each step, she wanted to pull away and go back to the big cool cave. It was too tight, it was too hot, she couldn't breathe. She started to pull away from Archie.

"Polly you are in no danger, just a few more steps. Hold tight to my hand"

Hotter, tighter, she walked on and on. Each step a struggle. She concentrated on breathing slowly and trying hard not to panic. Then, all of a sudden the atmosphere changed and she inhaled deeply. The darkness had lifted and she realised she could see.

She looked back and hovering just over her shoulder was the entrance to the cove; the small boat resting on the shingles as the water lapped gently against its sides. It was no more than a few feet away and the entrance was no smaller than the one she entered.

"Polly my dear, not just anyone can enter the underworld. You were most brave. I do believe a Fisherman's friend may be in order."

"You know what Archie, I think I am going to have two" Polly said removing the packet from her pocket.

"Very bold my dear, very bold."

Polly popped the tiny brown pellets into her mouth and looked around at the vast cavern that opened out ahead of her. The walls of the cavern pulsed, giving off enough light to see by. It was still dark but nothing like the darkness they had just pushed through. Archie started walking ahead of her and Polly trotted behind him struggling to keep up.

The cavern again began to narrow and the floor became more and more uneven as she clambered up and down trying to keep up with Archie.

"Come now dear, there is no time to be dilly dallying."

The sides and the roof came down to greet each other as they formed a narrow passageway. There was still room to walk upright and the walls still gave off a mellow glow. The passageway began to twist and turn and Polly struggled to keep sight of Archie. The floor was still uneven and Polly trotted along as fast as she was prepared to risk, she didn't wish to fall and be left behind.

Polly looked around at the cave walls; she was surprised to find things growing. Small plants grew out of the rock face like big green pimples and along the base of the walls sprouted mushrooms. They were tall and short; all of them opening out like a red umbrella dotted with white. Polly stopped to look; these were the same mushrooms her father had warned her about picking. They grew alongside pine trees and could make you very sick.

Polly looked up, she had completely lost track of Archie. She started to run, careful her feet didn't catch on the surface of the passageway. Down and down she ran and then the passageway ahead broke off, left of right. Which way?

Why did she have to stop?

Polly was lost. Well and truly lost.

#

Colours twinkled and danced behind his closed eyelids as he dreamed. Laughter, all around him laughter and it was for him, all for him. They listened to his songs and his tales. His brother looking on, for once anger and jealousy flashing in his eyes. They listened to how he banished the tyrannical king with nothing more than his wit and a song. Tell us more they cried as he held them in his hand mesmerised. Sing us a song they would shout and then whisper amongst themselves. Arguing about his voice, was it dipped in honey or gold or both?

Abaddon stood and swept off his hat, tossing his favour into the crowd he watched as a crowd of beautiful women fought, desperate to be the owner of his gift. He ran his fingers through his long black curly hair and smiled, his teeth shining bright. He raised his violin, the diamonds along the neck catching and reflecting the candlelight. The audience gasped and held their breath. Would the famous Abaddon really play for them?

Abaddon lifted the bow and rested it atop of the violin strings; he looked down as his boot started to dance. Confused he looked around but no else seemed to notice. He started to play but the music would not come. He watched his boot as it continued to jerk at the end of his leg. He stopped playing and ran his fingers through his hair. Clumps of black curls came away in his hand, his dirty hand. He dropped the strands of hair as they turned into worms and looked up as the crowd began to snigger, laughing at him. His shoe was torn from his foot.

Abaddon bolted upright; he was still in the undergrowth. He looked down at his foot, his shoe was missing. Ahead of him a badger sat nibbling at his old worn boot. He picked up a branch and thwacked the beaver across his back. The beaver turned and shuffled back into the trees. Deciding, after tasting the old shoe that it was not worth fighting over.

Abaddon reached over, replaced his shoe and looked across at the camp. Smoke drifted into the sky from extinguished fires and the daylight cut down through the canopy above, he had slept late, much later than he hoped. He stood, he would have to skirt the edge of the camp to try and find the trail of the song. He risked the chance of being seen but he couldn't delay any longer.

Edging around the camp he soon picked up the trail. It was still fresh and he headed into the trees and followed it down along the bank of the river. He began to run, leaving the camp far behind. On and on he ran as he followed the winding river, the taste of her song still fresh on the breeze. But then the trail just vanished.

Abaddon slid to a stop, his boots sending up a plume of dust. He span around. Where? How?

He turned, retracing his steps. He found the place where the song faltered and looked out across the river. Very clever, very wise, but how had they crossed?

Bewildered he sat and he waited.

### Chapter 10

The path on the left went down and the path on the right went up. All was not lost she was heading for the underworld so she followed the path on the left. It began to descend and all along her the walls began to dim and fade. The darkness crept in around her. She couldn't believe Archie had left her on her own.

As the light faded she could hear tiny drops of water falling from the roof of the cave and hitting the floor, echoing in the enclosed space. Polly picked her way carefully over the uneven floor and reached her hands out, one hand to feel for the side of the cave wall and one pushed out ahead. The passageway again split in two, left or right, up or down, heads or tails. She decided to continue down and felt the passageway to the left descend with each footstep.

The ground became more uneven and she stumbled, she reached out for the wall scraping her knuckles. She was breathing heavily and she lifted her hand to her mouth. She sucked on the bruised knuckle and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. As she sucked the loud breathing continued and Polly felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck.

Polly's hand came away from her mouth and the breathing continued. Her breath was now shallow and raspy and her pulse was racing. She wasn't alone and there was no way she could run down here.

Polly began to turn around, hoping, praying it was Archie.

A pair of red eyes floated in the inky blackness, glowing like embers. A long red tongue pierced the gloom as it ran across a row of razor sharp teeth that shined with malicious glee. Polly watched the saliva drip and realised it was this she had heard. Drip, drip, drip like a clock ticking down.

A growl, deep and mean came from the shadow as it came slowly on. Even the light seemed afraid to touch the beast. The beast started to laugh, not a happy laugh, the type of laugh a spider would make as it approached a fly trapped in its silky web.

Polly felt in her pocket for something, anything. Her hand closed around the paper packet of Fisherman's friends. The growl grew deeper.

"My, my, what do we have here? Are you lost little girl?" the beast asked in a whisper that carried as much menace as any growl. "Do you always wonder around uninvited? What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" laughed the beast.

"Please sir, I was invited. I came down here with Archie, it's just I turned around and he was gone, then I went the wrong way which I thought was the right way. I wouldn't come here on my own I don't even know where here is" Polly spoke so fast she began to feel dizzy.

"That old fool, why has he led you down here? This is no place for the living. Speak."

"Archie didn't say, I just know he had a plan. We were being followed by someone, someone who is trying to steal my song. I don't know why we are here I just know that I am lost and ..." Polly listened to herself talking and she looked at the beast in front of her. It wasn't as big as the cows or the horses on the farm. It was a cat, that's all. It may have been a big scary cat like a panther but it was still just a cat and it was talking to her. Polly herself knew how hard it was too kill when you were friends. "What's your name? I'm Polly."

"My name is not important, I am the guardian to the underworld and if you wish to pass into the realm of the dead you must first answer my questions. One wrong answer and you will die, pass the test and you may still die but it will not be at my hand." The beast spoke and his voice was so low it vibrated her insides, releasing another flutter of butterflies into an already crowded stomach.

"Answer me this;

At the sound of me, men may dream or stamp their feet

At the sound of me, women may laugh or sometimes weep."

Polly had always enjoyed playing riddles and she relaxed in the company of the familiar game. As she listened to the beast an image of her father singing and clapping came to her. She thought about how her mother would laugh and cry at the same time, smiling as tears ran down her cheeks.

"I think I know the answer, I think it is..."

"Remember the price of failure" interrupted the beast.

Polly felt uncertain. It had to be. It couldn't be anything else.

"Music, the answer is music."

"Well aren't we the little smarty pants. There is still one more question and remember just one mistake and you are my dinner. Clever meat always tastes better."

Polly cheered with delight

"Quiet" he roared "Any fool can be lucky. The next will not be so easy to guess. Your final riddle;

Say my name and I disappear."

Polly looked at the twin red jewels and his bright white teeth. Drool, drip, drip, dripping on the floor of the cave as he salivated over his next meal and his dark fur bristled as he hunched his massive shoulders ready to pounce. She looked down at the pads of his feet as they drew closer, her eyes drawn to the massive claws ending in razor sharp points. More and more butterflies swarmed around her stomach.

Polly couldn't think. Concentrate, she must concentrate.

No answer came.

The large red tongue slid over the points of his teeth and her breath caught in her throat as one of his incisors pierced his tongue, releasing a glistening jewel of blood which dropped to the cavern floor. The beast began to laugh as it sensed victory.

One large paw was placed in front of the other as the beast began to advance flexing claws that were made to rip and tear flesh. She looked at the teeth, teeth that were made to crunch bone.

"Please, I need more time" Polly said.

As the words tumbled out there, hiding amongst them, was the answer.

"Silence" she shouted. "The answer is silence."

The beast continued to laugh as it crept forward. Polly edged away; tripping, she fell and her back struck the wall of the cave. Trapped. There was nowhere else to go. The laugh had started to become shrill. Polly looked on, with each step the beast began to shrink as the laugh got higher and higher.

Polly, confusion etched on her face, watched as the snout of the beast dwindled away. The sharp fangs retracted back into his gums and his front legs shortened as they changed into a pair of arms. The beast began to walk upright and the dark fur covering its body receded into his skin. The creature continued to laugh and shrink, but instead of menace Polly could hear genuine mirth in the laughter.

"Well done, well done. I am and is most mightily pleased to be meeting you" said the creature. He stood half as tall as Polly and he looked up at her with giant bulbous eyes, full of curiousness that was at odds with his flat featureless face. Large floppy ears dangled like wilted lettuce and his wide toothy grin was turned up in what Polly assumed to be a smile.

"My name is Robin Goodfellow but do call me Robin. I hope you don't think ill of me young lady. It's my nature to frighten and scare people off. It's what I do. But I never would have hurt you. Now, please allow me to introduce myself, my name is ..."

"Robin you already..."

"How do you know my name? You're not a witch are you? You are I bets, oh dear I am most apologetical to you." The strange creature dropped to his knees and began to slither forward. "Don't you be zapping me now I was just doing my job is all." He started kissing Polly's boot.

"Robin I am not a witch and I won't be zapping you. Can you stop that please?"

Robin stopped kissing her boot and stood. He looked up at Polly and his eyes vanished with each blink, Polly held out her hand.

"My name is Polly and I am a human being, what are you?"

Robin started to laugh and jump around as he answered.

"I know you are a human being, I am not stupid and me I am a Pooka and I know you knows what that is. Everyone knows about the Pooka."

"Oh a Pooka. Like a parrot."

"What? What is this tom foolery? I am not like a parrot. Is you okay? Does your head be giving you pains? Surely you knows all about the Pooka."

"Yes of course" she lied "I was just joking. It's just I've never seen one before."

"You're right there young miss and that be the problem. There was a time when all the peoples of this land both loved and feared me. They would leave me gifts trying to win my favour or escape my wrath but, those days all be ended now. I do believe you said Archie is the one that brought you down. No doubts he has forgot all about his little friend, this place scrambles up your noggin, turns the past to the future and the future to the past. Its best to remember that up is down, down is up, left is right, right is left, down is right and up is left and backwards is..."

"Robin I think I get it. Now could you help me find Archie?"

"Of course, consider me at your service."

Polly retraced her footsteps and Robin struggled to keep up, his short legs scrambling up and over the tiny ridges of the cave floor.

"This is no good" Robin muttered and Polly turned unsure how to answer. She watched as the small creatures legs lengthened with each stride till he stood as tall as Polly.

"That's much better" he said "one of the gifts the good mother bestowed upon all us Pookas was the ability to change shape. Very useful indeed especially for terrifying young girls."

"I wasn't terrified" Polly said looking at Robin.

His face warped and changed. It was like looking in a mirror, she stood looking at herself. She stopped and watched herself, watched as fear formed on her face. Then the other Polly scrambled back till her back hit the wall, slipping and landing on her backside. Polly started laughing at herself and watched as Robin returned to his natural form. He joined in the laughter and took the hand that Polly offered. She pulled him up to his feet.

"Okay, maybe I was a little scared."

"Don't worry Miss it's my job and I am mightily good at it."

Robin took her by the hand and led her up the passageway. They took the left turning which must have been the right turning because the last one was the wrong turning. Polly began to enjoy Robin's company, he liked to talk and Polly was happy to listen. He talked about the times gone by, the tricks he played on the villages; making crop circles, hiding cows in the trees, that sort of thing.

"I wasn't all mischief. If they had a problem, like a real problem, I would help. Little Rosie went missing and I searched high and I searched low, finally I founds her and I took her back to her folks, cold and wet but none the worse for her adventure. No, it wasn't all devilment I just like to have my fun."

They turned left or was that right and there coming down the passageway was Archie and he actually looked concerned.

"Polly where have you been? I turned around and you were gone I... Ahhh I see you have met one of our little Pooka's. Robin I do believe. I do hope he never played one of his little tricks on you, after all I did invite you here as my guest" Archie's bushy eyebrows came together like two angry caterpillars as he fixed a stern expression on his face. The Pooka dropped his head and studied his feet.

"Now Polly you must stay close, I don't think you appreciate the danger you are in." Archie turned and started back up the passageway mumbling under his breath. The youth of today, standards, it's all about standards. This wouldn't have happened fifty years ago.

#

Abaddon sat at the edge of the river. Waiting.

Snorting back a big clump of snot he felt the satisfying weight hit the back of his throat, he spat and sent it sailing out of his mouth. The sticky green gloop land on the surface of the river; it rose and fell with the tide of the water like a tiny jellyfish of snot. The river began to ripple ahead of him and he watched tiny heads appearing on the horizon; beavers. He snorted more snot back into his throat and played with it in his mouth, swirling it round and squeezing it between his teeth. He pursed his lips and spat towards the beavers but they had already vanished back under the water.

He stood at the edge of the bank and kicked a pebble into the river, outwitted by his fool of a brother. There would be someone else, there always was. Maybe he should return to the gypsy camp and try to steal away a child; they always made a fine meal. Music was ingrained in their soul and he could almost taste the sweetness. He was about to turn when he spied a small wooden boat on the horizon. It was heading towards the shore were he stood. So that was how they crossed.

Abaddon watched the boat approach. It was towed by the beavers; they must have confused him for his brother. He chuckled under his breath as the beavers mounted the bank and brought the rope to his feet. He looped it around the tree. The beavers began to dance, hopping around in front of him.

"Excitable little things aren't you. So it is a song you want" he said retrieving his black and silver violin.

Grasping his bow in his hand he struck the violin and music filled the air. The beavers danced in the sunlight, round and round, swishing their tails as they moved in a blur. The tempo increased and the song took hold. The beavers dance became frenetic as they tried to keep up but still the music continued until a vapour started to rise above them like a cloud of rain.

Abaddon leaned back; he dislocated his jaw with a loud crack and inhaled the vapour cloud. Then, nothing, the music stopped. The beavers all collapsed at once, their tiny bodies still and devoid of any life.

Abaddon placed his violin back into the folds of his jacket and retrieved the length of rope that was tied around the tree. He climbed aboard the boat and found the discarded umbrella; he looked back at the group of still beavers and licked his lips. Never one to turn down a snack, he chuckled and listened, upstream. They had gone upstream.

He took hold of the oars and began to row, following his prey. His strength renewed he forced the tiny boat upstream into the flowing current. He rowed around a bend and there ahead was a waterfall.

The fools, they had entered the underworld. He rowed through the sheet of water and the small boat came to rest inside the cove. He climbed out and entered into the cave of confinement, felt its weight and pushed through to the labyrinth below.

### Chapter 11

Together the three friends walked down passageway after passageway and Polly had lost all sense of direction. Finally, Archie led them into a small cove at the side of the passageway.

"My dear, now would be a good time to stop and rest. I presume you are joining us?" Archie said turning to Robin and tossing an apple through the air in his direction. Archie passed an apple to Polly and as she took a bite she realised that Robin was watching her. The small creature copied her, placing the apple to his mouth he took a large bite.

"Eurgh!" Robin shouted spitting the apple all over the floor and rubbing his tongue. "What is this filth? Are you trying to poison me? You crazy human beings, I am going to find us some real food." Robin stormed out of the alcove and began to transform as he walked. His face elongated and his arms and legs shrunk and his body sprouted fur; becoming a mixture of black and white. Off he went snuffling down the passageway searching for food.

Polly looked around at the walls and every so often a glimmer would catch her eye. She stood and approached the wall; thousands of them pierced the contours of the rock face.

"Archie, what are they?" she asked pointing at the tiny jewels.

"Polly they are diamonds."

"What? All of them"

"Yes my dear. You see many moons ago, way before even I was born. A lonely meteor was travelling through time and space. Passing the same grey rocks and red rocks until he spotted her; the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. A sphere of blue and green dressed in a fine shimmering mist of silver. Enchanted by her beauty his love began to grow. The meteor circled round and round, both mesmerized and hypnotised by her. Closer and closer he came until one day they became one, and under intense heat and pressure together they forged these tiny wonders. This old rock was transformed through their love, their strength. You see these rocks aren't special because they are diamonds; they are diamonds because they are special."

"Burppp"

Polly turned as Robin strolled down the passageway no longer cloaked as badger, he was rubbing his stomach.

"I've saved you both some real food" Robin said as he held out two of the longest fattest worms Polly had ever seen. Both Polly and Archie mumbled about being completely full.

"Why don't you have them?" Polly suggested.

"Very well, if you're sure you don't mind" Robin said tilting back his head and dangling them over his mouth. He slurped them back and the worm fell over his chin, his tongue darted out.

"Come we have delayed for too long, I was hoping we would have crossed the bridge by now." Archie started walking down the corridor, his long coat flapping about behind him as Polly and Robin rushed along in his wake.

Noise began to echo down, louder and louder it grew and then the passageway opened out into a vast chasm. A river ran down the centre, bubbling and boiling as it clashed with the sides of the gorge. A bridge straddled the river; aged wooden slats suspended by dirty yellow rope. It didn't look very safe and this appeared to be the only way to cross.

Sat in the middle of the bridge was a large black bear and Polly could hear his snores above the sound of the rushing river. She turned to Archie and watched a frown form on his aged skin as he looked back down the passageway they had just left. She would get no answers there. Polly turned to ask Robin about the sleeping bear and watched as he picked up a stone, he pulled back his arm and sent it sailing through the air.

"Robin" Polly said through clenched teeth.

The rock sailed through the air and then hit the bear on the head with a loud clonk. Robin danced around, delighted with his direct hit as the bears roar filled the cavern. It reared up on its hind legs and swiped instinctively, sharp talons slicing through the air. The bear sniffed the air and dropped down. It charged towards the edge of the bridge and let out another roar.

Polly tried to grab hold of Robin but he just danced further away from her, oblivious to the danger he was in. She turned and just caught a glimpse of Archie as he fled back down the passageway. Should she run?

"Who dares come upon my bridge? This way is barred to all but the most worthy" growled the bear.

"Shut up Hobs" Robin said as he advanced towards the bear. "We haven't got time for this, we are on an adventure."

"I won't shut up" replied the bear as he began to shrink rapidly. "Do you know how long I have waited for this, six hundred years, six hundred, long, bloody years?"

The bear began to change and advance towards Robin. The bear-thing-creature picked up a stick and set about Robin, striking him on the head and arms. Six hundred years he repeated over and over, each hit adding an exclamation point.

"Get off Hobs. Come on that hurts, will you watch me bleedin' noggin."

Polly stepped into the middle of the two fighting Pooka's. They began to circle around her.

"Will you both calm down, look we still need to cross your bridge. Could you just pretend that Robin isn't here?" Polly said while trying to keep them apart.

"Would you do that miss" the new Pooka asked.

"Of course, but first you both need to shake hands and stop your fighting" Polly replied as she stood to the side. The two Pooka's stood facing each other, identical; the only difference was Hobs had something hairy resting above his top lip.

"What the hell is that?" Robin asked as he reached out, his hand pulling on the hairy worm under Hobs's nose.

"Ow. Get off" he replied pulling away his head. "It's a moustache of course. Why?" As he spoke the thin band of hair wiggled up and down like a caterpillar at a disco.

"It looks stupid" Robin replied again reaching out to touch. Hobs slapped his hand away and the two Pookas began grappling again. Polly stepped in, she separated them, grasped them both by their collars and lifted them off the floor

"Right I will only let you down if you both promise to stop fighting. Agreed?" Polly asked and the two creatures nodded. "Right Hobs, do you have something to ask me?"

"Yes, of course. Do you mind if I change back into the bear?"

"If you want to."

Polly watched as the Pooka changed back into the bear, she knew what really stood in front of her but even so, she still felt a tingle in her stomach which grew to a tremor as the bear roared.

"To cross my bridge answer me this;

At the sound of me, men may dream or stamp their feet

At the sound of me, women may laugh or sometimes weep."

"Ooo Polly I knows this one. I knows the answer" Robin said dancing from one foot to the other. He turned his bulbous eyes up at Polly "I do Polly. I knows the answer"

Polly shook her head and warned him with a stare. She placed her finger in front of her mouth to shush him.

Robin jammed his fist into his mouth and began to change colour as he tried to keep the answer inside. Faster he hopped from one foot to the other as he began to make a strange noise like a kettle coming to the boil.

"The answer is music" Polly replied.

"The answer you give is true, now one more riddle I have for you;

Say may name and I disappear."

Polly looked at Robin, his face was growing redder and redder. She opened her mouth to give the answer.

"Silence" shouted Robin. "Its silence" he said as he began to dance round and round in circles waving his hands.

Polly looked back at the bear who was halfway through his transformation back to a very unhappy looking Pooka.

"Cheer up Hobs. I thought your riddles were very good and you told them much better than Robin" Polly said as she leaned down. "I was really scared too."

"Thank you kind miss, you may cross the bridge now."

"Why don't you join us?" Polly asked.

"No thanks, someone will probably be along soon" he said and then turned to look at Robin "IN THE NEXT FOUR THOUSAND YEARS!" The unhappy Pooka turned and stormed across the bridge.

"Robin, that wasn't very nice you know" Polly said.

"Ah, he'll get over it."

They both turned as they heard a sound like two wet fish slapping the floor. Archie burst out of the passageway and shouted for them to run. He crossed the bridge without slowing and Polly and Robin raced after him. The bridge began to swing wildly as the trio crossed and when Archie reached the safety of the opposite bank he seemed to increase his speed and vanished into a passageway.

Hobs ran back across the bridge, passing Polly and Robin as they raced the other way.

"Go" Hobs shouted. "I'll guard the bridge."

#

Abaddon walked down the tunnel, no need to rush. There was nowhere for them to go. Step by step he sampled the melancholy clotting in the air. He could taste her fear and his thin lips broke into a smile that sat awkward on his aged yellow skin. This was his domain, his home. He clenched his fist and felt the strength there as the darkness welcomed him, drenching him in gloom.

Creatures crept from the darkness at his approach; worms squirmed out from the soil; fat spiders clung to the walls ripe on the juices of dead flies; scorpions crawled, extending their poisonous kiss. But most of all, his loyal servants, rats. Hundreds, thousands crept along beside their master, their claws scraping on the granite surface.

His army scraped and slithered behind him and his laughter encouraged them on. His foolish brother. Does he know what he has done? Where he has brought her?

Abaddon walked out into the vast cavern and started towards the wooden bridge that straddled the two banks. He looked up as a roar echoed around the cavern.

"You cannot pass. Go back" the bear roared as it rose up to its full height.

"Fool" Abaddon whispered and spread his arms wide. "You dare to make demands of me?" he asked as his army spread out behind him.

The bear dropped down and roared revealing his sharp teeth as his paws scrapped the wooden bridge, leaving deep scars as his nails split the wood.

"You cannot pass" repeated the bear as his shoulders hunched forward ready to fight.

"I was not asking" Abaddon answered in a whisper that whistled through his broken teeth. He dropped to his knees with his arms still spread wide. His army scurried forward and he was enveloped by the foul creatures as they covered his body, their tiny claws finding purchase in his cloak. Only his face could be seen as the rest of his body was a mass of writhing moving things.

"Go" Abaddon whispered as he brought his hands together. The army poured forward as they rushed over the kneeling man and charged towards the bridge. Their shrill cries rising in excitement as the dark blanket of death spread like spilled coffee over the cave floor.

They poured forward onto the bridge. The bear roared as he met the black tide of teeth and claws, lashing out with his talons, teeth snapping and slicing the rats who were no match for his ferocious strength. But still, they advanced, climbing over the dead and bleeding bodies of their comrades. The bear backed off, he was losing ground. His defiant roar renewed his strength as he held the centre of the bridge.

He fought and he fought but still the dark tide washed onto the bridge and soon he began to tire. His limbs becoming heavy, his strikes slow and sluggish, and it was then he felt the first sting. His left leg erupted in a pulse of pain. His head twisted down and he bit the scorpion attached to his left leg, snapping it in two with his powerful jaws. A rat took advantage of his lapse of concentration and jumped onto his head, it sunk its teeth into his ear and its razor sharp teeth pierced his flesh. The bear roared in agony and swung his head trying to dislodge the rat. White hot pain began to erupt all over his body as more and more rats sunk their teeth into the bear; scorpion stings, filling him with poison, further draining his diminishing strength.

His roars soon became screams of agony and he began to change, his magic waning as the rats covered his body. Biting and tearing.

"Come" Abaddon whispered. The rats turned away from the meal and raced back towards their master leaving nothing but a pile of bones.

Abaddon walked across the bridge, he stopped alongside the childlike collection of bones. He knelt down and caressed the smooth white skull before pushing the small pile into the rushing water below. He stood and continued across the bridge, his army, hungry for more flesh followed closely at his heel.

### Chapter 12

Polly chased Archie's fleeing shadow, she matched him stride for stride as they raced down through the underground labyrinth. Robin was racing ahead, his form constantly twisting and changing. Roars echoed and pushed them further on, faster. Then Polly began to slow as the proud roar of the bear began to change, becoming painful screams.

"Polly run" Archie shouted "there is nothing we can."

Polly's legs began to tire. She felt her strength failing. All around her yellow eyes peered out from the dark passageways that led off the main tunnel. She could hear them screech in anger as she ran past. Tiny shapes moved along the roof of the cave and the walls began to pulse. Polly screamed in horror as tiny shapes began to fall, floating down from the roof of the cave.

"Archie" she screamed as a scorpion landed on his shoulder. He swept it off with his hand and carried on running.

Bold rats began to emerge and nip at Polly's ankle, trying to trip and slow her. She lost her footing and her arms reached out to cushion her fall. Pain exploded as her chin struck the floor, the flesh of her arms scraped raw as she slid along the ground. She raised her head; a scorpion advanced towards her. She froze; it was now only inches from her face as it raised its sting and prepared to strike. All around her tiny claws scrapped along the floor as the rats prepared to attack.

The darkness came alive in a frenzy of snapping jaws and slashing claws. Polly, still frozen in place, watched a foot stamp down, squashing the scorpion flat. Broken from the spell she looked up and Archie reached down with his hand pulling her up to her feet. Robin, now clothed as a panther danced and snapped his powerful jaws, keeping the advancing horde at bay.

Archie and Polly began to run, tiny furry creatures with eyes of malice, excited by the chaos and smell of Polly's blood began to rush out from the darkness. Archie and Polly lashed out with their feet as they ran. A dark shadow raced past, clearing a path, growling encouragement, driving them on.

Polly's hand slipped from Archie, she began to tire. Her arms pumping, willing her on but her legs became heavy with each step. Each breath stung her throat and her chest was a ball of fire. She stumbled but somehow managed to stay on her feet. All around her was laughter as the rats watched her failing strength. She stumbled again and knew she didn't have the will to continue. She fell forward and prepared herself for the hard shock of the floor.

She landed on something soft and spiky, hairs tickling her nose.

"Hold on tight Polly" growled the Pooka.

Polly wrapped her arms around Robin's neck and felt the muscles taut as he snapped this way and that.

"Thank...you...Robin" she said in between gasps of breath as she rode his body up and down. Polly glanced down a long cave they passed, thousands and thousands of rats were pouring out of walls converging and forming into a giant undulating river of teeth and claws. The wave of rats rushed towards them, their tiny bodies crashing against the walls of the cave as they clambered over one another to get at the tasty prize.

Polly looked ahead the rats, like the scorpions, had begun to climb to the roof of the cave. They held on waiting for them to pass and then would drop, trying to catch them with their claws and teeth.

Archie danced from side to side as he ran forward and Robin raced to join him. The passageway began to grow and widen. It opened out before them, the vast army of rats began to thin and soon they were alone. Still, they ran on and on and soon they could hear the sound of water.

They left the passageway and entered into a vast chasm. Robin began to slow and Polly raised her head. The chasm seemed to split the earth as it towered above them.

Running down the centre of the wide gorge was a wild river. She looked all around, they were trapped and there was no way to cross the fast rushing water. Robin walked to the edge of the stone outcrop, the river was fifty feet wide. Polly felt all was lost. The skittish laughter reached her ears as the first of the rats appeared and realised they were trapped. More and more laughter, Polly turned to ask Archie what they could do.

He was stood with his back to her blocking the passageway. He was swinging his boots, with each kick he sent one or two rats sailing back down into the dark passage. While he was performing this strange murderous dance he reached into the folds of his coat and pulled out his violin. He started playing and soon the rats were held back by the music and unpredictable strikes of the dancing old man.

Archie began to back away from the entrance as he continued to play; the rats didn't pursue him, the ones at the front forming a dam. The music keeping them from coming any closer.

"Young miss. I am afraid this is the end of my journey. Robin will keep you safe" Archie said as he continued to play. The music he played soothing and relaxing. Polly looked at the rats who swayed as if they were hypnotised. She wanted to shout and scream but somehow she knew that Archie was right. The music entered into her and she understood.

"Good bye Archie. Thank you" she said as a wave of sadness crept over her. She listened to her heart and didn't block out the pain, she would remember this old man and all he had done. The music he played singing to her soul, making it right, the right degree of sadness, the right degree of hope.

"Polly hold tight" Robin growled. He turned and raced towards Archie "goodbye old man."

Robin pulled up just before the dam of rats and Polly watched them, lost in a reverie of cool sewers and rotten food. Robin turned and faced the river. He scrapped his paws on the floor once, twice. Then he bolted, faster and faster he ran. Polly leaned forward, her hair billowing out behind her.

The edge of the riverbank came racing towards them and then they left the ground, flying through the air. Polly's stomach muscles clenched as they went from climbing to falling. She felt her body pulling away from her as Robin dropped, the only thing keeping them together was Polly's clenched first. She closed her eyes and started to scream. Then the wind was forced out of her as her stomach slammed into Robin's back.

They bobbed in the air and Polly opened her eyes. Two leathery wings protruded from Robin's sides and they soared, gliding above the river. They came to rest on the far bank and Robin's wings retracted into his back. The large beast, still with Polly on his back, prowled the bank.

Archie's music could still be heard hypnotising the rats. Polly looked at the entrance to the cave where a shadow advanced, a dark silhouette against the black of the passageway. Abaddon was here.

Abaddon's large boots walked across the army of rats. Crunching as he pushed down on his loyal subjects, sending them quietly to their death still entranced by the magical music.

The two brothers stood facing each other.

"Silence" Abaddon whispered and Archie's song took on a strange squealing sound as one by one the strings on his violin snapped.

The sound of rats chattering replaced the sound of Archie's music as they awoke from the strange spell Archie had weaved with his music.

"Silence" Abaddon whispered. All sound vanished. The rats stopped chattering. The wind held its breath. The river ceased to run. It was deafening, Polly felt like she needed to pop her ears. The silence went on and on, Polly was afraid to breathe, then she was afraid that she couldn't breathe.

A slithering, scratching sound broke the silence and Polly took a shaky breath. She thought nothing could be as bad as the silence that stole her breath and then clambering over the pulsing rug of vermin clambered the fattest, ugliest creature she had ever seen.

Polly thought it was a rat but she had never seen one so big: It was the size of a small dog; its body was a patchwork of fur and pink skin; angry welts adorned the skin like cheap jewellery; fangs grew upwards from its lower jaw giving it an evil smile and it looked across at Polly with its one eye; its sharp claws scratching and its pink wormlike tail slithering.

The rat continued its slow journey and then came alongside Abaddon. It stood on its hind legs and Abaddon kneeled down and he whispered in the rat's ear.

The rat screeched, and the tide of rats raced forward, swarming towards Archie. The rats swarmed up and over Archie who stood still. He never offered any resistance and then his loud voice filled the cavern as he started singing. He sang in a language unknown to Polly and he started to dance. The rats tried to flee away from his voice but the evil one eyed rat forced them on. Biting and nipping the smaller creatures.

Archie started laughing and then he turned; he was a yeti of brown fur and pink tails. He ran, diving into the river, taking the rats with him.

Abaddon's and the rat's laughter filled the air. Robin turned and raced out of the cavern. Polly hung on tight as tears stung her eyes.

#

His brother had become old and inept. He never even offered any resistance, resigned to his fate as he slipped into deaths warm embrace.

Abaddon looked across the river and watched the creature bound away with the girl, the swirls of her song trailing behind them. He knew with her guardian gone it would only be a matter of time. He turned to his loyal general and whispered his instructions.

Abaddon felt the rats swarming around his feet and racing down the side of the riverbank towards the water. The rats linked and pushed out over the water, climbing on top of each other, making a bridge for their master. Abaddon walked towards the bridge and started to cross, feeling the rats tiny bodies wiggling and wriggling beneath his feet. Step by step he was getting closer, closer to the song for which he searched.

### Chapter 13

The tunnel twisted and turned as they ran on and on. There was no other way, nowhere to hide. Polly buried her face into his dark fur, drying her tears. There was no time to weep. She could feel the muscles rolling under layers of fur and she could smell the damp heat coming from the Pooka as he bounded from wall to wall. Robin began to slow to a trot and then to a walk and then he stopped, it was a dead end. Polly climbed from his back and watched him transform.

Robin slumped to the floor, his back resting on a large stone and he buried his head in his hands as he began to weep. Each sob sent his ears flapping and Polly knelt down beside him, resting her hand on his shoulder. The Pooka removed his hands and peered at Polly, his large bulbous eyes were tinged with red and tears ran down his face.

Polly leaned back against the stone and felt hopeless. Archie was gone, she didn't know where she was or what to do and they were stuck here. She closed her eyes and tried to think of anything, any way they could get out of here.

Thoughts tumbled and turned, becoming a kaleidoscope and she felt tiredness wash over her. Then, there was music. Sounds drifted into her dreams. She opened her eyes and looked up. Colours were drifting above her head rising out of the stone where they were resting. And music, all around there was music.

"It's the angels Miss Polly" Robin whispered, his red eyes shining and his mouth turned up in a smile transforming his wretched appearance.

They stood and Polly realised that it was a well that they had been resting against.

"They are coming from there" Polly said pointing.

"That's the Well-of-sorrows miss and the angels have come."

The colours above them began to swirl along with the music, they began to merge and patterns could be seen. Clouds, trees, birds that flew across the cavern. They watched eyes wide as the colours seemed to solidify. They stretched and tendrils reached towards the floor. They began to take on the shape of a person, a woman. The image became clearer and Polly felt her breath catch as the colours became the likeness of her mother.

Polly ran forward, she felt the colours wrap around her, lifting her off the floor and into the sky. Splashes of colour burst all over her face as kisses peppered her cheeks.

"There, there my sweet pumpkin" her mother whispered in her ear as she swept her up and around the cavern on wings of music. "Polly you must be strong, all is not lost. You have come so far my sweet child and I am so proud of you. Your journey is nearly over but you don't have much time, he isn't far behind. Polly you must go, I will do all I can to delay him. Remember I love you and I will always be there for you, always. I promise."

"Please don't go, not again. I miss you" Polly said as her feet came to rest on the floor of the cave. Her mother knelt down in front of her.

"You must be strong Polly. You're such a brave girl, much braver than me. I'll never leave you again." Polly's mother rested her hand on Polly's chest, just above her heart. "I'll always be here, in your heart. Now you must go, he is coming."

"Please don't leave me again" Polly said as tears began to run down her face. She watched as globules of colour formed in the corner of her mother's eyes. They grew and as her mother blinked they were set free to run down her cheeks, leaving rainbow trails. Her substance began to run as she evaporated; the colours began to swirl around Polly's feet and retreated back down into the well.

Polly dried her face with the back of her hand and turned with her face set she stormed towards the door, the only way out.

"Err Polly, where are you going?" asked Robin.

"You heard my mother. We can't give up. Let's go, there must be another way out of here."

"There is Polly, but it's not that aways"

Polly stopped and looked at Robin. He smiled and hooked his thumb back over his shoulder towards the well.

"I'm afraid it's this way. I think your mother is meaning for us to climb down. I don't even think I can help you, it's too skinny for me to flap me wings." Robin jammed his hands in his pocket and swung his foot out in front of him, kicking at a loose stone. "I ain't much good am I young miss?"

"Of course you are Robin and I don't suppose it was meant to be easy."

Polly walked over to the well and looked over the lip, bumping her head on the bucket that swung above the hole, she couldn't see the bottom. She blew out her cheeks as she exhaled, as if dispelling the air would make her lighter and the task ahead easier. The walls were uneven, there was plenty to hold onto and she had always been a good climber. Polly turned and rested her bottom on the lip of the well, she swung her legs out over the side. They dangled, two exclamations in a circle of black.

"See you at the bottom miss Polly." Robin jumped up onto the lip of the well. Polly shuddered as two sets of arms sprouted out from his body finishing in soft black pads. Dark coarse hair covered his body like a wave and his legs shrunk. She watched the giant spider scramble out over the top of the well and climb down face first.

Polly waited until Robin was well out of sight, she didn't want to be anywhere near that thing. Her hands gripped the edge and her feet scrambled trying to find purchase. She dug the front of her foot into the tiny gaps and started to climb down. Hand, foot, hand, foot, as she descended into the gloom.

Her arms and legs began to tire. She stopped, resting on the side of the well. Her arms started to shake and her left foot searched below her for a shelf to rest on. Her foot found a small corner to take her weight, she moved her arms and all her weight was on the thin ledge. She felt it crumble, her foot scrapped against the rock face as she tried to find purchase. Her hands grasped at the rock face, her nails splintering as they tried to dig in. Her body came away and she started to fall back. Slowly she dropped as the air cushioned her fall.

Polly was enveloped by a cloud of colour. It reached up and around her, holding her in its warm embrace, and all around her was music. A soft lullaby was whispered into her ears and she closed her eyes. The cloud of colour and music floated to the bottom of the well and Polly was rested gently on the floor, her mother's lap cradling her head as she continued to sing. Gentle snores like the soft purr of a cat echoed off the walls of the well.

#

Abaddon crossed the moving, squealing, squelching bridge and walked into the tunnel they had fled down. This way led to the well of sorrows, he chuckled, a dead end indeed. All around him the rats scrambled and climbed, weaving in and out of his feet, chattering incessantly and praising the return of their master.

All along the walls streamers of colour hung, fragments of her song. His hand reached out and he brushed them, releasing tiny notes of joy, hate, sadness. Emotions that whet his appetite. Abaddon lifted his hand to his mouth and tasted the residue.

The tunnel started to widen and opened out into a circular room and in the centre stood the well of sorrows. Pausing on the threshold he closed his eyes. Opening them slowly he looked around the circular room. They were nowhere to be seen, they must be cowering behind the well. He would take care of the meddlesome Pooka first. Reaching into his jacket he removed his violin and knelt on the floor.

The giant rat waddled up alongside him and Abaddon nodded at the well. The giant rat squealed his instructions and sent forward a wave of his finest troops. They raced towards the well and around it, appearing on the other side. Abaddon stood and charged towards the well. Empty. The room was empty.

The army of rats had formed a barrier, too frightened to approach the old stone well. Abaddon laughed at the rats and their pathetic fear. He walked inside the cordon, his hand caressing the lip of the well. He reached forward and struck the wooden bucket hanging over the dark abyss. The well held no fear for him.

#

He watched his brother and sister rats scrambling for the attention of the Master-who-had-returned. He licked his paw and cleaned his face, watching, always watching. Small, he knew his cunning was his strength. He watched as the giant rat, One-eye, approached the Master-who-had- returned. One-eye listened and then waddled his bloated form towards him breaking through the cordon of rats, attacking any who were too slow or too bold to move, cementing his position as leader.

The small cunning rat lowered his head in subjugation as One-eye passed in front of him and then, he squeaked in anger as he felt teeth bite into his pink tail. The small cunning rat turned, searching for his assailant, and when he turned back to the front, One-eye sat in front of him, angry at his insolence. The small cunning rat rolled, exposing his belly, showing he posed no threat.

Rolling back onto his feet he lowered his head, One-eye lashed out with his claw, scouring a deep ravine which filled with blood. The small cunning rat bared his teeth and hissed, backing away from the giant rat, retreating into the anonymity of the crowd.

When he was a safe distance away he began to lick and clean his wound. He watched the giant rat climb atop a large boulder and stand on his haunches, preparing to address his restless army. The noise increased as the rats chittered their approval.

From his new position the small cunning rat watched the master-who-had-returned vault over the lip of the well. There was a flash of colour as he was repelled from the stone circle and he flew high above the ground. The small cunning rat began to laugh. One-eye dropped onto his padded feet and barred his teeth. The laughter increased as a shadow like a black spotlight formed around One-eye.

The small cunning rat watched One-eye turn and look up. The Master-who-had-returned was flying through the air, the Master-who-had-returned was upside down, and the Master-who-had-returned was about to land.

One-eye tried to move his enormous bulk, his sluggish legs unable to react. He felt the enormous weight crash down and the wind left his body at the same time as his tiny warped soul. He felt himself being dragged towards the Well-of-Sorrows, he looked back at his army of twittering, chattering rats and there, laughing the loudest, was the small cunning rat.

### Chapter 14

Polly opened her eyes and as they adjusted to the gloom, she could hear the sound of rats, thousands of rats. She sat up and looked around, she was at the bottom of the well and she was alone. Polly could only see one way out, a small doorway cut into the side of the well.

Polly stood up in the well and stretched her hands upwards, she felt remarkably good, quite refreshed in fact, if a little hungry. A blue mist swirled all around the well and Polly remembered fragments of falling, of meeting her mother, impossible dreams. Deciding to leave the cave she bent over and squeezed through the small doorway to be greeted by the sight of Robin returning, his arms laden with mushrooms.

"I see you is awake Miss Polly" Robin said offering her a mushroom. "We should sit a while and eat, I'm afraid I couldn't find any worms so these here mushrooms will have to be doing us."

"I don't think we have much time. I could hear the rats and Abaddon is probably up there with them."

"Polly my dear, don't you fret. Whilst you were sleeping that foul 'orrrible creature tried to climb down and did you see that blue mist? It threw him right back out, it was most amusing and tickled me no end. It keeps on flashing blue and I don't thinks he want to be tangling with that kind of magic. You don't think I would have left you alone and in danger? That's not Robin's way" he said handing Polly the largest of the mushrooms he had found.

Polly dusted the dirt off with her fingers and then took a bite, her hunger overcoming her disgust. It wasn't too bad, it tasted a bit earthy but it was better than eating worms. She swallowed down the spongy fungus and then refused when Robin offered her another one. Patting her stomach to demonstrate how full she was.

The cave was illuminated by a brilliant flash of blue, the face of the rock twinkled with a thousand stars and Polly smiled. She shook her head, here she was miles under the surface of the earth eating mushrooms with a shape shifting midget while being protected from an evil villain by a magic well. She had always dreamed of having adventures but she never imagined they would be so ridiculous.

"So what do we do now Robin? You must have a plan."

"Of course I do. The only way is onwards but not upwards. We must be onwards and downwards. You see I've been squeezing me noggin and we need to be going along the path to perdition."

"The path to perdition" Polly repeated. She didn't like the sound of that.

"Now don't you worry, you ain't murdered anyone has you? You should be okay I thinks and as for me, I am sinless" he said standing up straight and puffing out his chest with obvious pride. "Anyways once we have passed travelled down the path to perdition, hang on, do you think I should say that in a spooky voice?"

"The path to perdition" he repeated lowering his voice and smiling with menace. His deep raspy voice echoed off the walls and reverberated up through the old well, reaching the ears of those above.

"The path to perdition. The path to perdition. The path to perdition. The path to perdition. The path to perdition. The path to perdition. The path to perdition."

It continued to echo and bounce around the tunnel and the well. Polly shook her head, so much for their plan of escape.

"Sorry" Robin whispered afraid of starting another avalanche of sound.

"You might not have any sins Robin but it would be nice if you came with a brain"

Robin looked up at her, he clasped his hands together in front of him. His eyes swelled to twice their size, his eyelashes sprouted out and swished as he blinked. He looked like a love sick toad, Polly laughed and grabbed him by the hand. She led him away from the well with the sound of their intentions echoing all around them.

"The path to perdition. The path to perdition. The path to perdition. The path to perdition. The path to perdition. The path to perdition. The path to perdition."

"You know what Miss Polly" Robin said with a wink, tapping the side of his head "I wanted him to follow us. See, it's not all sawdust up inside my ole noggin."

### Chapter 15

"The path to perdition. The path to perdition. The path to perdition. The path to perdition. The path to perdition. The path to perdition. The path to perdition."

Abaddon sat up as the echo summoned him back to consciousness. He held his hand up to his head, it throbbed and ached from where it had struck the floor. All around him rats scurried, he reached out, picking one up by the pink tail. He placed it in the cup of his hand and kissed the hairy snout.

"My beautiful friend" he said caressing the rat under his chin "Those fools are going down the path to perdition. That way leads only to death for there is no escape."

The rat squeaked back as Abaddon ran his tongue over his foul and rotten teeth. His finger ran the full length of the rat's body and then, taking hold of the wiggling pink tail, he flung the rat towards the well. There was a flash of blue and the rat flew back. Abaddon plucked it from the sky as the delightful aroma of cooked flesh and singed hair filled the air. He raised the rat towards his mouth and, savouring the smell of barbequed meat, he bit down. He heard the crunch of the tiny ribs as they gave way to his powerful jaws and he felt the juices run down his chin. His teeth ground up bone and muscle and finally he slurped down the pink tail which wriggled and bounced like a stray strand of spaghetti.

Abaddon climbed to his feet and cleared his throat; the army of rats stopped their fighting and frolicking and ceased their play. As one, they turned towards their master. He clapped his hands once and the rats formed into two columns, facing each other. Abaddon stood in a clear path flanked on both sides by his eager rats. The path ran down the middle to the old stone well, dividing his army.

Abaddon looked at the old well as silence filled the cave; the only sound was the creak of the water bucket as it swung gently on the timbre supports.

Abaddon clapped again and the rats turned, showing their backsides to the opposite flank. He clapped again and the rats leaned forward onto their front paws, they raised their hind legs and as one they slammed them down on the ground.

BOOM.

The rats scrapped their claws along the floor as their feet returned to the starting position, they raised their legs again and slammed them down.

SCRAPE. BOOM.

The rats further down the corridor joined in scratching their claws on the ground.

SCRATCH, SCRATCH. BOOM. SCRAPE. SCRATCH, SCRATCH. BOOM. SCRAPE.

SCRATCH, SCRATCH. BOOM. SCRAPE. SCRATCH, SCRATCH. BOOM. SCRAPE.

SCRATCH, SCRATCH. BOOM. SCRAPE. SCRATCH, SCRATCH. BOOM. SCRAPE.

Abaddon reached into the folds of his jacket and pulled forth his violin. He began to play as he walked up the corridor the rats formed, his very own guard of honour. Colours began to rise out of his violin. Dark colours, indigo, violet, deep green, black. The colours swirled around him darting in and out his feet like playful kittens.

The colours began to take shape. First they resembled a cat; flexing its claws and baring its teeth it hissed at the well. The cats face stretched and it became a fox that skulked low to the ground and as it sunk to the floor, arms protruded from the side and the head shrunk as it changed into a spider scurrying. The arms vanished back into the sides and the body elongated, finishing in a large snout filled with teeth. Its long leathery tail flicked out behind it, slamming the floor. The lizard prowled towards the well and Abaddon stopped.

SCRATCH, SCRATCH. BOOM. SCRAPE. SCRATCH, SCRATCH. BOOM. SCRAPE.

SCRATCH, SCRATCH. BOOM. SCRAPE. SCRATCH, SCRATCH. BOOM. SCRAPE.

SCRATCH, SCRATCH. BOOM. SCRAPE. SCRATCH, SCRATCH. BOOM. SCRAPE.

The noise filled the cavern as the giant lizard reached the edge of the well, it reared up and placed its front paws on the lip of the well. The violin played faster and faster and the rats began to reach a crescendo as they scraped the floor of the cavern, the excited squeaks adding to the cacophony.

The lizard began to crawl over the edge of the well, all four paws were clasping the edge of the well as it circled around. Its snout pushed into the darkness of the well and it began to climb down, paw after paw. A flash of colour illuminated the cave as the sound of a thousand voices echoed from the well, drowning out the sound of the violin and rats.

A large eagle erupted from the well, seizing the lizard in its sharp talons it continued to ascend to the top of the cave. The lizard roared and turned its giant head, snapping its jaws at the eagles exposed underbelly. The eagle released the lizard, it dropped and landed amongst the rats, squashing and flattening those two slow to react.

The eagle soared around the cavern, preparing to attack the lizard. It opened its beak and let out a piercing sound, the sound of a thousand voices, a thousand souls drilled into the skulls of the rats. The rats stopped slapping the floor and began to flee out of the cavern, trampling over one another in their haste, desperate to distance themselves from the sound.

Abaddon dropped his violin as he covered his ears. He looked up, fear twisting his face into an unrecognisable mask. The eagle dived, its wings pulled back for momentum and Abaddon dropped to his knees as his eyes focused on the sharp beak and talons that raced towards him.

The wounded lizard jumped in front of Abaddon, light and sound filled the cavern as they met, teeth and claws snapping, tearing and biting.

Abaddon seized the opportunity and stood on shaky legs, he ran like a puppet on a string and bounded over the lip of the well. His body hit the rope and his knee crashed into the bucket. He held onto the rope and wrapped his legs around the bucket, his momentum swinging him into the side of the well as it began to drop down the dark hole. He bounced back and forth, the old rope slowing his descent. With a judder he stopped, the rope had reached its limit.

Abaddon grasped onto the rope, frightened to let go, unsure of how far he would fall. He tried to gaze down but any movement he made turned him into a pendulum swinging wildly. His hands began to tire and burn as they slipped down the rope. He tried to lift his body and place his feet in the hanging bucket. His arms had no strength, he swung his leg, trying to hook it around the bucket but the momentum caused him to swing and losing his grip he fell. Two feet. He fell two feet and before a scream could even escape his back struck the floor of the well, knocking the wind out of him.

The bucket swung above his head, dancing back and forth and he laughed. He laughed so hard his stomach hurt, he laughed so hard snot bubbled out of his large nose, he laughed so hard because he knew it was over. There was no escape.

### Chapter 16

The two friends walked down a long thin passageway that twisted and turned as it rose up and down. The sound of the battle above still echoed in their ears and they decided it would be prudent to hasten their journey. Robin transformed himself into the large black cat and Polly climbed onto his back. He started walking with Polly on his back and once she had the measure of his loping gait he began to increase the speed, first to a canter and then to a sprint.

They hurtled down the passageway and Polly clung on tight as the cold damp air rushed over her body, her hair streaming out behind her like a black ghost struggling to hold on. The tunnel was a blur as Robin, in his new shape, bounded over rocks and crevices with the precision of a mountain goat.

"Robin" she shouted but her words were lost on the wind. "Robin Goodfellow."

"Yes" Polly felt more than heard the giant cat as he answered her with a purr.

"Do we need to go so fast?" she shouted and looked up, immediately regretting it. The sharp edges protruding from the roof of the cave were heading straight for her head only for Robin to change direction at the last minute. Polly was about to bury her head in the nape of the large cat when she felt her face brush into the silky spongy thread of a spiders web. She pursed her lips and began to blow, trying to rid herself of the web that clung to her face. Her eyes crossed as she felt something climbing up her nose. A fat spider waddled into view and stopped content to sit there and make a new home of Polly's nose.

Polly started to blow frantically and her eyes began to ache from focusing on the spider. The spider turned and seemed to shake his head, berating her for destroying his home. The spider then ejected a silk parachute from his backside and took flight leaving Polly with an itchy but relieved nose. She buried her face into Robin's back and rubbed her face, trying to remove the itch with his coarse fur.

"Hey, don't you be wiping your snoozer on my back" growled Robin Goodfellow.

"Can't you slow down?" she shouted again.

Robin slammed his paws into the ground and they came skidding to a halt, for a brief second they vanished in a cloud of smoke that was churned up from the floor of the cave.

"We're here" Robin stated.

Polly climbed down off his back and stretched her legs, her hands reached for her nose and scratched away the itch left by the bemused spider. Robin began to transform himself and Polly looked around at the walls of the cave. A luminous green glow radiated from the stone walls, as her hand reached forward the section of the wall glowed orange in anticipation of her touch. She could feel the heat emanating off the wall and he body began to tingle, chasing away the cold dark air from the cave. She pulled her hand away and watched the colours change back to their natural green colour and she felt the cold seep back into her weary bones.

Polly lifted her hand again towards the rock face and she could feel the warmth spreading up her arm. She took a step forward and her hand came to rest on the wall. The heat spread around her body and she felt light headed, she turned to look for Robin, her eyes heavy and unable to focus.

"Polly stop"

She watched him mouth the words; the sound was muted as if coming from a great distance.

"Don't touch the wall" he said as he stepped towards her with his arms raised, ready to catch her.

Polly felt her body tense as a crescendo of voices, a crescendo of songs, assaulted her senses. She knew none of the voices but felt connected to them all and she listened as the songs of their lives echoed around her head. Each had a story to tell, each had a song to sing. They sang of their joy, of their pain, all of them in unison. A beautiful snow storm, each song a unique snowflake.

Polly tipped back into darkness as the flow of emotion overwhelmed her, a kaleidoscope of colours filled her vision and a rushing noise filled her ears. Then nothing.

"Polly. Miss Polly are you okays. Can you hear me young miss?"

Polly opened her eyes and found herself on the floor of the cavern gazing up the two ginormous black holes of Robin's nose.

"I should have been warning you young miss. You can never be touching that wall, this here is purgatory's cave."

"My head, what happened? Who is Purgatory? What were all those voices? They sounded so sad and so lost. They wanted me to know how sorry they all were." Polly sat up and rubbed the side of her head.

"Just rest here a minute young miss" Robin said as he sat down opposite Polly on crossed legs. "This cave has always been Mr Purgatory's and I've a feeling it most likely always will be. I don't rightly know who he is but this here is the place where people's songs come when they have stuff to work out. You know how songs can become tainted, well, here they remove that taint. Take out the bad bits of their songs, gives them a chance to fill the silence with the sounds of those that be lovin' and missin' them. Sometimes you people can be so busy singin' and listenin' to your own music that you forget about the music you make in others. Miss Polly some songs can be so melancholic that just 'earing them breaks your heart, but these people have good souls and they enrich the songs of those around them. They makes others tinkle, so, Mr Purgatory shows them these songs and the music they have left in others and he lets them borrow it back. Borrows it from their friends and their family and even sometimes from their pets and when their song is complete, well then they moves on."

"Move on where?"

"I don't rightly know young miss. This is my home is all I know, once a song has stayed a while then they leaves. Goes a flutter. Look."

Robin pointed up to the top of the room. Wisps of colour floated out from the top of the wall. They twirled and danced, every time they crashed into each other a tiny symphony could be heard and then the colours would pop and vanish.

"Just like the well?" Polly asked.

"No miss, not like the well at all. People in the well aren't ready to leave. They use their song as a type of magic, a magic to keep their loved ones safe. No, the songs in here are just unfinished symphonies is all."

Polly stood up and his vision swam in front of her eyes. Robin, her friend, was there supporting here with his arms. Making sure she never fell.

"No wonder your head hurts young miss, all these questions leaking out of your mouth, you'll be havin' no brain left soon. Might be best-ways if you have one of these here worms. Hope you don't mind but I kept some hidden away for just such an emergency." Robin pulled the long rubbery insect from inside his pocket. "Full of protein you know, honey of the earth I calls them."

Polly shook her head as he dangled the worm in front of her. Robin shrugged his shoulders and then popped the worm into his mouth, chewing with obvious delight.

Polly began to walk on unsteady legs, her arm reached out and the wall glowed orange in anticipation of her touch. She decided against using that crutch, she swayed on her feet and Robin was their holding her wrist, she looked down at his huge grinning face.

"Come now miss, we be just takin' one step at a time." Robin guided her through Purgatory's cave. "It's not too far now young miss, not too far at all."

### Chapter 17

Each step he took was accompanied by the noise of the battle raging above. He left the bottom of the well by the only exit and felt himself picking up speed as the passageway angled downwards. He could taste the song on the air, the sweet notes of melancholy hung in the air, clotting the walls of the cave. He stopped and sampled their taste. The notes had changed, their sweetness even more pronounced as they were dappled with small bursts of hope. He licked his lips with relish, he was so close.

The passageway twisted and turned and rose and fell. There was no danger of him becoming lost, he could follow her now with his eyes closed. The tall unusual man began to dance, a strange sound come from his mouth. He skipped and clapped and laughed. There was no escape.

The air in the cave was stirring, the damp air pushed against him as he whooped and cheered, singing about songs he had stolen, tastes he had sampled. Abaddon could feel the temperature beginning to rise the further on he pushed. The passageway began to taper, forming a long thin cave. Abaddon found himself pausing on the threshold, suddenly afraid to cross. Heat was pulsing from the walls and he watched as green ghost lights pulsed, shimmering on the walls of the cave.

She had come this way, the air was thick with her taste. Abaddon peered around the room as confusion wrinkled his face. Never had he travelled so deep, his hands fidgeted and he paced back and forth. He leaned forward, something was wrong. Her song vanished, it was like the cave was masking her. She came this way, she must have. There was nowhere else to go. He gazed around, what was this magic?

Abaddon gritted his teeth, he had travelled much too far. He stepped into the room, a dry wind assaulted him as the colours on the wall changed from green to burnt orange. He pushed on into the wind as his hat became dislodged and flew out behind him. He turned his head to look over his shoulder and watched his clothes billowing out behind, his hat tumbling away and out of the room. He turned and forced himself against the wind, on and on he pushed as his skin began to become stretched. Folds of skin began to trail in his wake, elongating alongside his dark cloak.

He bowed his head and pushed on as colours began to stream away from his body finding a welcome in the sanctuary of the walls. The wind screamed in his ears as it buffeted his body. Mists of colour began to form ahead of him, they swooped and swarmed him, his insides pulled apart as the songs he had stolen forced their way out. He pushed on as the attack continued and a strange high pitch wailing accompanied the noise of the howling wind. His songs, his precious songs.

With one last final push he burst forth from the cave like a new born lamb spat into the world. His body hit the floor and in the silence he realised the strange high pitch wailing had originated from him. He turned and looked back at the cave, a blue mist swirled faster and faster dancing with the orange glow of the cave. In the shadows formed by the dancing colours he recognised his victim, they stood mocking him.

Abaddon stood and screamed and they laughed at his anger. Storming over to the cave he began to lash out, swinging his hands. The colours danced out of his way, twisting and twirling and changing their shape till they settled on a likeness of the beavers. The colony of beavers flew through the air mocking him, his arms propelled by anger swung and swung but the beavers continued to dance out of his way. They flew to the edge of the cave and then as one they turned and flew towards Abaddon.

Abaddon turned and tried to flee. He started to run but he felt himself lifted into the air as the beavers each grabbed a limb. They spun him through the air faster and faster and then tossed him out of the cave.

Abaddon felt all the wind leave his body as he hit the rocky floor. He looked back into the room, the beavers glided through the air, pulling tongues and blowing raspberries. His songs, collected over thousands of years, all gone.

Abaddon closed his eyes. She would pay. So would that creature she had befriended. Once his strength had returned he would come back here, he would teach them all a lesson. Abaddon stood and welcomed the return of an old friend, a strong friend, anger. He turned from the cave and ran, his old legs protesting at first but soon they responded to his desire as they remembered the speed of their youth. His legs vaulted over rocks and stones and his bounded through caverns and passageways. Anger, excitement, the wind screaming in his face, urging him on.

This was it. This was hunting.

Finally, a prey worthy of his attention.

#

Polly's legs still felt heavy, with every step she felt her strength fading. A heavy weight had settled, even coming to rest on her heart. Robin did his best to support Polly and he guided her every step. She felt so weary, she had no energy, and each step was a personal battle to overcome. Her breath was coming in slow ragged gasps.

"Robin I don't think I can go on" her head turned to meet the eyes of her friend. Weariness making her speak slow and uncertain. "Just a minute for a rest. I just feel so tired."

"I know young miss but how's about we make a deal. When we gets to the room of reflection we can have a sits down and rest a good long while. I'll even go gets us some nice juicy fats worms. Now that sounds good don't it?" Robin said as his hand rubbed over his small paunch. He looked at her, his friend, his brave friend. He feared she had given too much of herself to Mr Purgatory, listening to the songs, the woe they sang, it seemed to weary her.

"Ok" was all Polly could manage as a reply. She stumbled on, her friend Robin a crutch that guided her. She staggered as her foot caught on a sharp outcropping. Robin transformed himself and nuzzled her hand. He lay in front of her and Polly fell onto his back, her arms and legs angling down his flanks.

Robin felt her weight sink into his back and tiny snores began to tickle the back of his neck. He couldn't run, there was a chance Polly could fall off. He trotted on and let Polly sleep on his back. He knew the tall man would be catching them up. So be it, if it's a fight he be wanting, that's what he be getting.

The tunnel began to taper down until at the end Robin could see a wooden door. Strange hieroglyphs adorned the edges of the frame, vegetation sprouted out around the base and sides of the door like tiny green hairy orbs. Vines twisted over the face of the rock and tiny purple flowers blossomed. Life fighting back in the dark damp cave.

Robin trotted over to the door and as he approached the glyphs began to glow red. The room of reflection. With great care he placed Polly down onto the floor of the cave. Their journey was over, he lay down next to Polly and curled his body around her. Polly sank into his warm fur and he closed his eyes.

"Robin I am so tired."

"It's okay Miss Polly, you sleeps now."

Polly welcomed sleep and with each breath her body became lighter and lighter. She started to lift off the floor, floating she gazed down at herself, at the giant dog curled around her sleeping body. She could hear music calling out to her. As light as the morning breeze she drifted down the passageway and watched with wonder as music seemed to be coming off the face of the rock. An ancient sound, a low reassuring rumble. She looked closely at the rock face, little songs erupted from the cracks in the rock. Tiny insects, their own individual melodies adding to the natural sound of the rock. Ugly insects transformed into virtuosos by the songs they were singing, the songs of their lives, of struggle and strife in the bowels of the earth.

Everything was transformed, the mundane became magical. A plain old rock face was lit up by the music as the sound became colours and filled the cave with pulsing light. The water dripping off the walls became a steady beat as it hit the floor and tricked away to re-join itself. Incandescent flashes.

Now, Polly understood. Even deep in the bowels of the earth beauty was everywhere and everything. All around her the song of life played. Songs of joy and sadness swirling together, complimenting each other. A patch of darkness, absence of all sound entered into the cavern. An empty vacuum. She saw him, no longer afraid. Polly knew what she must do.

### Chapter 18

His pace began to slow, his heavy breathing bounced off the walls of the cave and sounding like an angry dragon he entered the final chamber.

Abaddon gazed at the girl and the Pooka protecting her. They lay in front of an old wooden door, the only other way out of the cave. He spread his arms wide and breathed deep, drinking in her intoxicating song.

The Pooka raised his head and bared his teeth. Abaddon smiled and felt the crack spread across the dry parchment of his face.

#

Robin raised his head and bared his teeth. He watched the man spread his arms wide and smiled revealing his foul and rotted teeth.

"Polly, you must be waking now. He has found us." As he spoke he caressed Polly's face with his paw. She opened her eyes and smiled up at him, cupping his paw with her own hand.

"It's okay Robin, I'm not scared. I know now what needs to be done." She climbed to her feet and stretched her back. No longer the vulnerable child. "Thank you for everything you've done for me but you must go. I have to do this on my own."

"But Miss Polly I ..."

"Please Robin. I must enter the room on my own. Don't worry I will see you again" Polly said as she ruffled his fur.

"Miss Polly I swore to protect you." Robin hunched low and growled at Abaddon. The tall man spread his arms wide and beckoned him forward. Robin knew he was no match. He looked up at Polly who smiled a reply. Go she mouthed and he could see in her eyes she wasn't afraid.

Robin turned to face the tall man he felt the hackles on his back rise, charging forward he bared his teeth, a loud growl filling the silence. The tall man, with his arms outstretched revealed crooked teeth as he smiled and planted his feet ready to welcome the Pooka into his arms.

The gap between the two closed and the Pooka bounded into the air. Robin's body began to shrink and change as he left the floor of the cave and wings sprouted from his side. The transformation complete he soared upwards to the top of the cave. He flew high above the outstretched arms of Abaddon who cursed loudly as he jumped, trying to snare his prey with his outstretched arms. While the tall man was distracted Polly turned and opened the old wooden door, without looking back she fled through the embossed doorway into the room of reflection.

### Chapter 19

Abaddon felt his fingers grasp at the empty air as he stretched, trying to take hold of the Pooka. His body juddered as he landed back on the cave floor and he turned, watching the Pooka flee down the passageway. The girl was trapped, there was nowhere else to go. He could catch that little Pooka first and make a meal of him, a fine starter he would make. No, he had come for the girl. He had delayed too long. If only he had caught her earlier he would still have all his precious songs.

Abaddon turned, the cave was empty and the door stood ajar. He tilted back his head to sample her song one last time before he claimed it. It was gone, not a trace of it lingered. His eyes darted around the cavern as he searched. Tricked by that filthy Pooka, wait, there was no way she could have passed him. He looked to at the ruins of the old door that swung on rusted hinges, filling the silence with a mournful song. The hieroglyphs glowed red and he realised that the magic was masking her song. Keeping it hidden. He walked forwards and entered into the room of reflection.

Blue mist swirled around, drips of water echoed and his eyes swam as he looked around the grotto. Stalagmites like giant jewels, adorned the room. It seemed impossibly large and small at the same time, he felt confined, he could no longer judge the distance. He tried to take a step forward but his foot seemed to dangle and sway about in the whole of eternity. He tried to steady himself with his arms, but they seemed to stretch on forever in either direction. He closed his eyes tight.

Abaddon opened his eyes and his vision still swam, he felt like he was underwater. He must have been holding his breath because his body shook and screamed as he took in a lungful of ragged air that was so sharp it hurt his teeth. He focused on his prey, the young girl seemed unaware of his presence as she knelt in front of a large stalagmite, and a fine mist swirled and clothed her in a myriad of different colours.

Abaddon forced his jaws together and felt the top of his front tooth break as he gritted his teeth, he stepped forward, trusting his foot would find purchase on the floor. Left foot, breathe, right foot, breathe, left foot, breathe. His eyes watched his feet move over the rock floor as he advanced on his prey. He looked up. The girl was moving further and further away with each step. He took another step and further away she moved.

Abaddon started to run, each step taking him further and further away till the girl was a small spot in the distance. Sweat beaded on his head and his clothes clung to his moist back. Gasping he turned, looking for the wooden door. All he could see was the crystal structures jutting out from the cave floor and ceiling. He turned, more stalagmites. He turned, more crystals. He turned, faster and faster. Dizzy he reached out and his hand brushed against one of the crystal stalagmites. It began to hum in anticipation of his touch and he watched as visions began to coalesce onto the surface.

He watched his brother bring him a tiny wooden boat he had made. The delight on his face as they set off to sail it on the tiny river at the bottom of the hill.

Abaddon felt a heaviness, a stinging in his heart. An old emotion. What was it?

The proud faces of their parents as the two brothers tied a rag around the mast to act as a sail. Abaddon watched his little brother launch it out onto the small river. Felt his brother's embrace and his love echoing down the ages.

"No" he whispered.

Abaddon picked up a rock and sent it hurtling through the sky to land with a splintering crash. Destroying the tiny vessel.

His brother's pain wrenched at his heart, his parents disappointment twisting the wound. The tears of his brother stung more than a thousand lashes.

The vision swirled and was replaced by his first victim. He felt the child kings trust turn to fear.

The child king listened, trusting his every word as he spoke the incantation. The eyes of the child king dreamy as he swirled, the magic moving his body to the strange beat. His pupils grew wide as the music moved him faster and faster, his body screaming out in pain.

"NO" Abaddon cried as he felt pain and fear twist through his body a thousand times. Slicing.

Memories, visions. Every joy, every sorrow opened up wounds on his heart as he felt, truly felt, all the pain he had caused, all the misery.

Abaddon's hands reached up to his face. He covered his eyes but still the visions forced their way into his mind and there he sat forced to endure the pain and suffering which he had inflicted.

### Chapter 20

Robin arrived at the base of the well. Arms began to sprout from his side as he looked up the well. He paused. He couldn't leave her. Thinking of the times they had shared together, their adventures, He wouldn't leave his friend no matter what she said. Turning and changing he raced down the passageway. Leaping obstacles his steps kept time with his beating heart as he hoped he wasn't too late. He had no plan, he just knew he couldn't leave her. If Polly could be so brave so could he.

The door appeared ahead and he felt the pull on his muscles as he changed shape, turning back into the small Pooka. Teeth and claws would do little against this devil.

Robin steeled himself and charged towards the open door. He pushed through the heavy weight of the darkness, so black it was purple, wind assaulted him and tried to push him back. The wind ceased buffering him and he emerged into a room bathed in soft blue light.

On his knees ahead of him was the tall man, his hands held over his eyes.

Robin raised his hands in a boxer's stance but the man paid him no attention. Careful as he edged around him. Visions flashed and Robin felt the pain. Unable to take any more he turned from the tall man and there she was. Polly.

Watching as visions, memories bathed her in their beauty. The laughter and the happiness she brought. Reflections of her life twisting and turning, spiralling into infinity. Every moment a tear drop of joy. Robin watched the visions of her mother, of her father, of her family.

Cradling her small child, Polly. Her tiny angel. Full of hope and dreams. Her husband's hand on her shoulder, his tender kiss on her cheek. Then, the shadow, the worry, the fear. Her husband's concern as sadness crept into her song and into their lives, a sadness he couldn't prevent, a sadness he couldn't fix.

The visions changed. Flashing images of their moments of joy, of happiness but always, the melancholic drone. Corrupting her song and making her blind to the love of those around her. Her final moments.

A solitary teardrop left Polly's eye, tracing a path down her pale cheek. All around her colours swirled and changed into the likeness of her mother. A hand reached out from maelstrom of colour and collected the tiny jewel from Polly's cheek.

Her mother wept. Not out of sadness but joy. She was finally free. Her unfinished symphony more beautiful for the love she had left behind. The love for her husband and the love for her daughter. A love that could now be cherished.

The colours faded as the small Pooka knelt down next to Polly. He placed his arm around Polly's shoulder. Turning to face him she smiled and Robin helped her to her feet then led her from the room.

"Wait" Polly said as she turned and re-entered the room of reflection. She walked over to where Abaddon sat staring into the abyss of his own devilment. Polly took his hands and he turned to face her, tears streaming down his face.

"Sorry" he mouthed over and over.

"Its okay" Polly said "they are all safe now. All of them. Look."

Colours swirled all around and above them, their forgiveness playing out as a beautiful melody. Polly guided him to the floor, he looked up at her and smiled. Abaddon closed his eyes and his final breath left his body. He was know nothing more fearful than an old bag of bones wrapped in aged leathery skin. Polly removed her jacket and lay it over the prone figure, reaching down she removed her bobble and covered Abaddon's face. She joined Robin at the door and together they left Abaddon and the room of remembrance.

The journey back was a silent affair, they barely spoke, muttering only a few words as they figured out how to get back up the well. The little Pooka couldn't carry Polly, he went ahead and then, with Polly balanced precociously inside the bucket, he pulled her up using the old rope. Robin carried her over the rushing water and Polly looked down, searching for Archie. Rats clambered up the steep sides of the ravine but the old man couldn't be seen anywhere.

Together they passed over the bridge and Polly looked down and gazed at Robin, she reached down and held his hand.

"It's okay Miss Polly, he died a good death, doing his duty. There is no finer way for a Pooka to go. So, no sadness now, you hear. How about one last ride?"

Without waiting for her to answer he began the transformation. Polly climbed onto his back, together they raced down through the caves. The wind tousled her hair and sent it out behind her like a shawl. Lifting her head from his back she relished the moment. Felt life swirling around her. Racing on through the deepest, darkest cave she laughed. She had never felt more alive and she started to sing. A song her father would sing, a song of happiness and a song of hope. A song that filled the depths of the earth.

The large creature pulled up and Polly jumped over his back. The creature changed and laughing threw his arms around Polly. They danced through the small crevice and came out at the back of the waterfall. Polly delighted in the cool feel of the water as it sprayed up and around her.

"I'll get in first and hold the boat steady for you" Polly said climbing into the small boat. She held her hand out it bobbed up and down.

"Miss Polly I am afraid this is as far as I can go. The world outside is no longer a place for my people. You must face the world on your own now."

"But I just thought that... will I ever see you again?"

"Miss Polly you knows all you have to do is listen. The gentle breeze that whispers, the bubbling brook that laughs. The rain that drums and thrums. Just listen to your song and turn to your heart." He placed his hand on the side of the boat and Polly covered it with her hands. He pushed the boat away from the bank and raised his hand in a wave.

The boat caught the current and drifted towards the waterfall, Polly reached down for the umbrella and opened it out above her head. When she looked back towards the shore, on either side of the small Pooka stood Archie and Abaddon. All three raised their hands.

"Thank you" mouthed Abaddon as the water fell on top and around her, an opaque curtain that clouded her view as she emerged into the sunlight of a warm mid-summers day.

### Chapter 21

Deep in thought and bone tired, Polly passed through the forest and came upon the old graveyard. The rusted metal gates still stood open between the two faded stone columns. Small flowers poked through at the base of the pillars, reaching down she picked them from the ground and raising them to her nose she drank deep of their intoxicating bouquet.

Polly made a small bunch in her hand, and then reached into her pocket. She looped the hair bobble around the bunch of flowers and walked towards the entrance. As she stepped across the threshold she realised she had been holding her breath, she let it out in a shaky gasp and looked around.

The sun cascaded down, warming the old headstones. All around her wildflowers burst forth, birds sang as flashes of colour darted in and out of the trees. The graveyard was not what she expected, it wasn't grim or lonely.

Polly walked further down the worn path, passing row after row of gravestones. Some small and some large. Graves that were so ornate, so decorative, that they looked like magnificent works of art. Others so plain that they seemed all the more beautiful for their simplicity.

Polly's father had told her about her mother's grave, hoping she would one day accompany him. She knew the whereabouts and headed towards the old oak tree standing like a solemn sentinel.

Polly placed the small bunch of flowers onto the grave and ran her fingers over the words. The sadness touched her, it was a gentle touch, and she looked around at the beauty around her. A small insect, a cicada, landed on the grave. She held out her hand but the tiny insect had other ideas and bounded onto the next gravestone. It leaned forward and began its song. An answer came from the brambles at the side of the graveyard and still listening Polly stood and left the graveyard.

The village was now a hive of activity, people coming and going, women and men attending their chores. Friendly arguments over the price of fish, the sound of battle coming from the village green. Polly stopped to watch as the team from the next village took the stumps, their white uniforms reflecting the sun. The bowler charged towards the wickets and catapulted the ball towards the batsman. The batsman stepped forward striking the ball, a loud crack as cork struck willow and then silence as it sailed through the air. The fielder ran taking the ball in his outstretched arm to the cries of "HOWZAT?" The umpire signalling him out.

Her father. He must be worried sick.

"Mr Postlethwait" she called to the postman "what day is it?"

"It's a Saturday Polly and most likely will be till Sunday rolls along" he answered, puzzlement etched on his face.

"Thank you" she called already running. She had been missing a whole week, that can't be right. "What date?"

"The 12th June. Polly are you okay"

"Fine." It was the same day she entered the underworld. The same day she had left the gypsy camp with Archie. Her father wouldn't even know she had been away.

The farm soon came into view and Polly slowed to a walk. Passing the animal pens she ran her hands through their coats as they came over to greet her. One of the cows shook her head and set her bell jingling and her father head popped up from behind the old tractor he was attempting to fix.

"Hello" he called "hope you were good at Elizabeth's?" his teeth white and glowing in a face covered in motor oil.

Polly broke into a run and threw herself into his arms, sending them both sprawling in the mud.

"Pol what's wrong?" he asked sitting up and looking at her with a frown. "Are you okay?"

"Dad, I'm fine. It's just, I love you."

"I love you too Pol. You do know that don't you?"

"Yes, I do now. Come on I'm starving, can we make some lunch?"

"Sure, there is some cheese in the fridge and a fresh loaf was delivered this morning, terribly nice fella that Mr Jones. I'm just going to finish up here and ..."

"No dad, I want us to make lunch together."

"Oh, okay" he stood and dropped his spanner to the floor "to be honest Pol I haven't got the foggiest what I'm supposed to be doing anyway" He reached for a rag and wiped his hands and his face and then he took his daughters hand in his.

"Dad I'm going to make us an omelette"

"An omelette you say. Very nice."

"That's if the hens have managed to lay any eggs yet."

They walked to the kitchen hand in hand and Polly began to sing. Her father smiled as he looked down at his daughter. The smile, like an avalanche turned first into a chuckle and then into a laugh. Soon he was singing and his base tone complimented his daughters beautiful voice. Why had he only just noticed what a wonderful voice she had? His thoughts turned to his acoustic guitar. I must dig that old thing out he thought, see if I can tune it up again. Maybe teach Polly to play.

Singing, they entered the kitchen together. Singing, they made lunch together and from that day on, whenever they were together, the music never stopped.

The end.

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