

THE FALLEN PRINCE THAT NEVER WAS

by

A.G. Higgins

Copyright 2012 A. G. Higgins. All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition

Contents

Title

Copyright

Atlantic Ocean

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Epilogue

About the Author

The Atlantic Ocean

Captain J. R. Frances marched his way to Professor Clayton's cabin. While eyeing his compass – it's bearing lying confused in it's oddly rotation – about him crew scurried passed to the furious sway of his ship. Reaching the cabin's door, he pressed it in without care for warn, 'we must turn back or we will sink for sure, Professor,' he said, laying a pair of stern eyes upon his client, 'the storm grows too great!'

However, Professor Clayton seemed unmoved by his urgency. Sitting by his desk of study, he continued logging notes into a journal, 'men have waited almost four–hundred years for this night,' he said calmly, 'our lifetime does not grant a second chance.'

'Then with all due respect, Professor, I say it is to fault and abandon ship should we dare keep sail upon this course.'

'And I would take chance upon a raft of wreckage till what's done is done, should your fate be so slain?'

'You're a fool old man,' said Captain Frances, 'blinded by a madness given to you upon the ill voyage of this sea. How you hid your true course of intent? How you lead us so carelessly into waters beyond anyone's knowledge but your own? I should never have lifted my sight from yours. And even now, in the mist of this storm, you care not for the life's which you hold so coldly in your grasp?' He moved closer with warm, 'you may count this will of nature as a blessing, Professor, but if it were not for her I would have turned course and took my chances as best I could long before now!'

'You, Captain, above all whom lust for sea, should know that Christopher Columbus set sail to the edge of the known earth to prove that the world was not flat, but round,' he replied, 'And I pray Captain, that like He, you will let this be your legacy to the pages of history that await.'

'Aye Professor... but even he feared these seas too,' said Captain Frances, 'but you already knew, didn't you?'

'Steady your feeble mind Captain; think of what there is to be achieved here,' tried Professor Clayton, 'It's out there, somewhere; I know it is!'

'There's fire in the sky? A storm which I have never witnessed in all my years at sea?' replied Captain Frances wearily, 'And I have had enough of this; I say we turn back. There is nothing more than a prison of watery graves than what you seek out here.'

'You will not turn this ship around for you have received your wealth in kind!' roared Professor Clayton, rising to his feet as though a terrible beast had taken his form, 'besides, Captain, how will you find your path home? Have you looked at your compass of late?' he gestured, 'Here, among this hellish sea it is of little use to anyone. And this storm you so keenly tuck tail from does not favour a night's voyage by star, now does it, Captain?'

'You knew this all along, didn't you? There was no turning back, was there?'

'Make no mistake, Captain,' warned Professor Clayton, 'the only course to ever return... is forward.'

The ship turned to its side heavily. Above, the sound of crashing mast and cry of sailors lost to the sea could be heard.

'Cures you old man,' spoke Captain Frances shamefully, 'curse you and your wealth... ship or not, this voyage of fool's errands ends now!'

Crash?!

Both the Professor and Captain J.R. Frances halted in their argument. It seemed that someone was hiding in the cabins wardrobe? A small eye peered through a slight gap in the door, hopping that their mislaid footing hadn't given them away?

The door flew open. There before the Captain's feet a young boy named Zack lay shaken in his surprise.

'And what of your stowaway, Professor?' he yelled, keeping his sights fix firmly upon the boy, 'would you really have that of innocents find death by the hand of your own recklessness?' Professor Clayton remained silent, disregarding the Captain's question. 'Even the fate of a child you care not? For the first time I truly see the madness of your mind, Professor. But there may still be time to save the life's upon which this ship ferries. We turn back, and should you stand in my way... I will see to it that you find a watery grave before all others!'

Professor Clayton fell back in his chair to the leave of the Captain, his sight finding that of his young companion...

'Why do the eyes of innocents no longer shine brightly, but instead, dull with that of a fate cast to uncertainty? Or is it I whom fail to see their true colour, glorious of blue?' He continued warmly, 'there was a time when we first met, a time when I saw within you the same longing for adventure as I when once so young. Do you member what it was that I had said to you, my boy?'

'Yes, Sir...'

'Well, won't you indulge an old man one last time?'

'"Though all the pieces of my dreams may lie not upon a sure path... I must believe,"' he recalled as though he were about to part ways with an old friend.

Professor Clayton smiled, perhaps for the first time of an age that he now seemed unable to recall, 'and now, perhaps you have come to know the meaning of those words?' he asked.

'Yes, Sir,' replied Zack, 'we must choose our own path in life, dreams or fate, and believe in ourselves when all would have us doubt.'

'Not bad for an uneducated stowaway. At least not all was in vain?' he replied, deep in thought, 'Now, be a good lad and grant me on last favour – go find your princess and see her safe as best one can.'

'Why are you speaking like this?' asked Zack worriedly, 'What has happened to you?'

But Professor Clayton seemed dreamy for a time before finally he did say, 'you must understand, for the same principle of which you have just spoken, I cannot follow. Forgive me, my boy, and may God go with you.' His eyes dimmed, as though gazing across a vast empty space.

'Professor,' tried Zack, 'Professor... it doesn't have to be this way, Professor?!'

But Professor Clayton did not move. He did not reply.

'What's happened to you?' tried Zack desperately, 'It's this place, it's changed you hasn't it? It's changed everyone, I know it has? Captain Frances was right; we shouldn't have come here. We should have tried to turn back!'

'Turn back to what exactly?' dare Professor Clayton suddenly, 'Home? – You most of all should understand that there is no turning back...there is nothing back there for you!' He rose with anger, pushing Zack across the floor of the room without care for hurt, 'back there you're only a fitly boy left to roam the streets and alleyways' he said 'You have no place there nor by my side. Be–gone from my sight, for I have no desire for the burdens of an orphaned child!'

Again Professor Clayton did seat himself, lost in a dream as though nothing had happened?

Zack's eyes began to turn tearful. He knew that no matter what he could say or do, Professor Clayton was truly lost. He knew now that he was no longer a man of his own will. Somehow this dark place had twisted him? And though his heart was sad for such ways of parting, he would leave without comfort of friendship. For leave he must when such words of coldness are spoken...

Captain Frances eagerly made his way topside. Once there, he began ordering his crew to make sail for a retreat. Any attempt to voyage further, he feared, would see him and his men right into the eye of the storm. But his heart told him that he may already have been too late. About the air a hellish fire rained down from above? The wind gave no rest, and the rains of heaven fell heavily through clouds of darkness roaming in their sickened sky of night. And from the depths of the ocean came monstrous waves, swallowing his ship with ease to a timely roar of thunder and crackling of light. And the horizon, lit of an eerie glow, grew in strength with every sail that he could not afford to lose?

He should not have allowed his will of greed to thrust his mind into weakness. He should not have set sail to this wretched place so easily. He should have listened to his feelings of unrest. He should have known form the start that something was amiss with this voyage. But that would not change the here and now. Nothing would, no matter how great a price he would be willing to pay.

A great wave rose before him. There was little that Captain Frances could do. His ship had met with its finial voyage.

The ship swayed furiously, trashing Zack from side to side as he tried to make his way along the many narrow passageways before him. Capsizing to the will of the sea, the hull of the ship began now on a course of invert. And streams of rivers did flood from every door and passage, weeping throughout the seams of wall as they creaked heavily under the ill lure of its might. Zack pulled himself up from the water that now began to quickly surround his waist. About him the warmth glow of lantern quench one by one, a loom of darkness falling throughout the passageway as he struggled to stay afoot.

'Suzie?!' he cried out, looking back and forth, 'Suzie, where are you?!'

Ahead, deep within the shadows that rippled with glint of water, he did at last come to hear her voice.

'Zack, what's happening to the ship?' she dared, 'we're sinking aren't we? Oh I'm scared, Zack... truly I am!'

'It's okay, Suzie, everything will be fine; just try not to think about it.'

'But we're sinking Zack?!' she cried coming now to his arms, 'What should we do?'

'We've got to get off this ship.'

'But what about the Professor, we can't just leave him?'

'He's not coming,' replied Zack with sadness, 'it's just you and me now... just like it's always been.'

'What are you talking about?' she asked, 'What do you mean it's just you and me?'

'Look, there's no time for that now,' tried Zack, holding Suzan by her side, 'listen to me; forget about the Professor. Forget about the Captain. Forget about everyone you hear me?! We need to get off this ship before it's too late!' Quickly he glanced about. It was getting dark, very dark. The water was filling quickly too, 'soon we will hit the water outside...you hear me?!' He shook her, trying to keep her mind off the dangers about them, 'just allow yourself to go under. Wait for the calm, Suzie – don't struggle – you wait for the calm that crosses the surface and you float up!'

'I don't like this, Zack...I'm scared!'

'You float up kicking your legs as best you can no matter how scared you are!' he yelled, holding her more firmly now, 'Trust me, everything will be alright; I'll reach out and take your hand!'

'You promise?'

'Look at me, Suzie,' he said, her lonely sight filled with unknown finding his, 'I promise, Suzie... I promise.'

Chapter 1

A New World – London 1909

Thirty–six days previously

Professor Keith Griffin sat at the end of a large table. To his right was Marine Biologist Dr. Thomas Albert; to his left, Astronomer Daniel Boyd and Physicist Professor Richard Calkins. These were the members of the Board of Trusties, Professor Griffin himself a Geophysicist and Lord Councillor of Trust. However, when the Board was in session, each did refer to one another as Sir. There they sat, all in silence with nothing more than the ticking of an old grandfather's clock to keep them company. Impatiently they awaited the arrival of a one Professor Clayton, the man responsible for summing them here today.

Apparently, after receiving a long–distance telegram it appeared that the Professor wished to set voyage upon a great venture. One, he claimed, that would lead to a discovery of most profound importance for mankind. And they, the Board of Trusties, were most eager to find out exactly why?

'So, what do you make of this telegram, Sir Griffin?' asked Sir Albert, not wishing to remain silent any longer, 'Oh, by the way do you mind if I...?' he continued while motioning to the drinks cabinet, 'I'm afraid that in my old age of impatience, I seemed to have grown quite the longing for a stiff brandy or two.'

'But of course...' replied Sir Griffin before attempting to answer his question, 'It's hard to say, gentlemen?'

'Sorry old chap?' asked Sir Albert, his drink pouring quite nicely before him.

'The telegram, Sir Albert.'

'Oh yes, my apology,' he replied politely before taking a sip from his glass, 'please, do continue...'

'You received the same telegram as I; there is little more to continue with? Professor Clayton was quite brief...a line or two, nothing more.'

'True, but I dare say that it did give reason to have gathered us here today to consider quite a most unusual proposal... however short it may have been?'

'Sir Albert is right, gentlemen,' interrupted Sir Boyd, 'the Professor's telegram did manage to stir our curiosity quite effectively, did it not?'

'Now you all know Professor Clayton as well as I do,' responded Sir Griffin annoyingly, 'the man knows only too well how to play with words. He has a reputation for quite the theatrical taste. No, there is simply nothing more to this than him wishing to secure funding for some foolish venture. One, may I remind you, of which the findings shall never see the light of day. I can assure you, gentlemen, that we should cast suspicion upon any invitation fashioned of that which his hand may scribe. If not, it is reasonable to assume that our credibility shall suffer for it.' He eyed his pocket watch with displease before tucking it away, 'why the last time we funded a trip to Cairo in search of the so called Tomb of Amnesty. It was supposedly the last resting place of the Nine Kings of the Nile; Pharaohs, ancient Gods who ruled throughout Egypt at the same time if you can believe it? There I spent weeks looking for a great pyramid full to its tip with vast wealth under his guidance. The only thing we discovered was a small hole in the sand and two broken jars...worthless to our cost! And let us not speak of that trip to Israel; across the Dead Sea in search of the legendary lost mines of King Solomon; we all know how that one turned out.'

'As I recall,' began Sir Calkins, noting a point of interest, 'that venture was based upon a diamond coin which he had found. Naturally, it gained our invested interest with quite the ease.'

'Yes, and every merchant the west side of Istanbul were selling two for the price of one,' replied Sir Griffin with embarrassment, 'what I am trying to say is that we are of academic minds, where as he... he chooses to follow a more anomalous path. Putting it simply, he is the kind of man whom ventures out into the wilderness with nothing more than a trill for myths and legends. The list is endless; all but foolish pursuits and how he has managed to talk me into them, I'll never know? – But oh no, gentlemen, not this time for I grow too tired of his boyish ways. And unless he has absolute proof – of which he himself claims to have – this gathering will be brief... very brief indeed.'

'I am inclined to agree,' said Sir Calkins, 'we shall insist on absolute proof.'

'As will we all I'm sure,' said Sir Albert, wishing not to be noted as gullible in the company of his colleagues.

'But of course,' replied Sir Griffin respectfully, 'please do forgive my sudden cause for concern. It was not my intention to cause you need to feel disrespected, or indeed, anyone else for that matter.'

'Think nothing of it,' he replied warmly, 'still though, I for one wouldn't mind hearing what the old devil has to say. He always had the thrilling gift for a good story, eh?'

'I suppose you're right,' said Sir Griffin more calmly, 'after all, why else are we here? It wouldn't hurt to hear the Professor out – for old time's sake if nothing more. Besides, gentlemen, it's not like he is a hard man to say no to, now is it?'

The room fell silent once more as the Board of Trusties seemed now to eye each other worriedly upon Sir Griffin's last word.

'With such daring summit of unknown proposal,' tried Sir Calkins, 'where does one stand with our invested interests with regard to Professor Clayton's, shall I say... line of credit?'

'Yes, do tell Sir Griffin,' said Sir Boyd, 'what can we afford in way of expense should interest coincide?'

'In sort, not much,' began Sir Griffin wearily, 'as far as invested interests are concerned the old dog has had its day. Though admittedly he has had he's use – however far and in–between – but certain circles take a different view about how one should conduct one's self upon the dawn of this new age. And it seems that I am inclined to agree.'

'Do you care to elaborate, Sir Griffin?' asked Sir Albert with interest.

'I'm afraid that since the days of my father – God rest his soul – times have changed, as too do people,' began Sir Griffin, 'We are no longer young and foolish with dreams of how the world should work. Each of us has risen above our youthful ways, acting accordingly in our position of leadership and trust. Whereas Professor Clayton, he finds himself dated, lost in his youthful mind contrary to the belief of his age.'

'Yes, if it were not for his boyish stubbornness he too would surely be seated on the Board,' said Sir Boyd, 'such a mind some would crave priceless should he use it more suitably?'

'But for whom,' asked Sir Albert, 'that is the question is it not?'

'Does it really matter anymore?' asked Sir Griffin, 'we've seemed to have reached a stage in life were we should no longer want, but rather have achieved. Sometimes I wonder if it was not for my father's influence would I, by merits alone, have reach my position among you? But then I am reminded of Professor Clayton's many chances, foolish ventures and misguided truths, and I think so.'

'As I recall, your father and he were quite the companions,' said Sir Calkins, 'this very institution founded on such friendship. Founded in a time far from greed and profit; a time when instinct for bold venture was held most in wealth.'

'For such stories by the dinner side were of men's character and worth,' interrupted Sir Griffin, 'but as I have already said; times change. With exception to the Antarctic expeditions, the world no longer has a place for swashbuckling adventures so to speak. Gone are the days when one entered a vast jungle as poor as a man could be, only to return with hands laced in gold. It is now a time of real scientific breakthrough, works of substance for the evolution of mankind. Works carried out in dull windowless rooms. Respected research with noticeable works published for all to acclaim. That gentlemen, is the wealth of our future. The accomplishments of this institution lie no longer beyond its walls but rather within, should we wish to remain reputable. I'm afraid, gentlemen, the likes of Professor Clayton's days are now well and truly over. And if you want to continue valuing your comfort, you must concede to our investor's way of thought.'

'How sad it is,' began Sir Albert, 'Professor Clayton lives if only to charter a ship and set sail for an unknown horizon; as too did your father?'

'Yes, both as foolish as each other I dare concede,' said Sir Griffin, 'but as much as I wish to entertain the Professor out of due respect to my father and their friendship, I cannot deny the progress of the world... nor for that matter, that of this institution.'

'So it has come to this,' thought Sir Calkins, 'have we all reach our dreams of youth, only in doing so... unknowingly surpassed our time?'

'I'm afraid so, my hand is forced in the matter old chap,' conceded Sir Griffin, 'perhaps it is only a matter of time before we are all dated?'

'Has the old chap been informed?' asked Sir Boyd.

'Yes, some time ago I informed the Professor of our current arrangement,' replied Sir Griffin uneasily, 'Well you known how he can be; as expected taking an instant disliking to the matter of material wealth over quest for knowledge and so forth.'

'Then why the gathering may I ask?'

'In truth, should we the Board deem it worthy, for old time's sake I have managed to secure funding for one last venture,' admitted Sir Griffin, 'Professor Clayton is fully aware of the conscience should he fail to impress us. It's his last chance to make something of himself, or the doors to this institution will be forever closed to him. It was the best that I could do – He must succeed for his time has run out.'

'Speaking of which, where is he?' asked Sir Calkins, 'He was suppose to be here just over an hour ago? If I didn't know any better, I'd have to say that the man was keeping us waiting on purpose?'

At that moment a knock came upon the door. The Board of Trusties glanced up to a voice politely introducing the arrival of Professor Clayton. As seen far too many times before, the Professor strolled into the library's study as though he were unaware of the importance of times keeping.

To the particular view of some, he blatantly defied it.

'It's about time, Professor!' began Sir Griffin, the Board smoothly putting an end to their conversation, 'do you have any idea how long we have been waiting for you?'

'My apologies,' said Professor Clayton, 'but unfortunately, a matter of grave importance occurred most untimely that required my full attention.' He raised a basket of fruit, 'breakfast...?'

'I see that you have being tormenting the merchants again,' noted Sir Griffin with a weak smile, 'you of course will understand if we do not join you in your morning's feast?'

'And of course you will understand that I may begin without need of your company,' replied Professor Clayton, 'Now then gentlemen, would anyone care for a spot of tea?'

'Oh do get on with it, Professor,' said Sir Albert, 'we are all simply too excited to wait any longer. What is it that you have gathered us here together for exactly?'

'Quite right,' he said before turning to the servant who kindly announced his arrival, adding, 'just the one today, I'm afraid.'

'But of course, Professor,' replied the servant.

'Thank you.'

On the leave of the servant, Professor Clayton moved closer to the table. He took from his possession a small wooden box before laying it down. Tapping its lid most gently, he did say, 'where, if only where... to begin?'

'I presume, Professor Clayton,' suggested Sir Griffin with interest, 'with the contents of that box?'

'Perhaps,' he replied with eyes delight in their playfulness, 'but first, gentlemen, you might be so kind as to indulge an old man for his boyish love of charm and mystery?' The room fell silent. It seemed that there was no objection. 'And so he leans closer as though about to reveal a great secret – It is said that within the Atlantic Ocean there lies a great legend; a hellish sea where cruel storms can spawn forth in the hand of any moment. Some even say that within such a place, sea monsters become myth no more for the great lure of the Kraken awaits? Indeed, Christopher Columbus himself, upon a voyage to the Americas once wrote; "Of great fires does the sky bear so forth a loathing for poor souls at sea. And a light does grow upon Her horizon like that of the scorn of a Goddess with vengeance for all mortal men. Never should I want for crossing of Her path again. This I warn onto thee of venturesome soul." And even stranger still, in Plato's two dialogues the "Timaeus" and the "Critias" the Greek philosopher writes of an ancient city enriched with great mystical powers – A city, gentlemen, sunken forevermore beneath a sea such as this? Some may even believe it to be the resting places of the lost city of Atlantis?

Though all that I have spoken of is regarded as myth, theories or great works of fiction even to one such as I, surprisingly... there are some truths?' He began to rotate a large globe of the earth set within a stand to his right of the room, all eyes eager to follow his fingers line of path as it made its journey of axis, 'upon the Earth's globe there lies a hidden set of lines. Here, between the island of Bermuda, Florida and San Juan, Puerto Rico; Hell's Gate... or more commonly known today as the Bermuda Triangle!

Gentlemen, here upon the Atlantic Ocean – heading due Northwest of the cost of America – we can agree that from as far back as the days of Columbus, the American Civil War and even of our own time, ships have long since entered these waters only never to be seen again? Mysteriously disappearing in a manner that defies explanation of human error, piracy, equipment failure or natural disaster of our understanding? Could these disappearances prompt toward the paranormal? A suspension of the laws of physics it's self, perhaps? Who can tell, but all we really know is that those who venture there are lost to the known world. That is, gentlemen, as we know it...'

'Quite the colourful picture I must agree, Professor,' began Sir Griffin, 'but we are all aware of the myths surrounding the Bermuda's. As too are we aware of how the lack of science, thus far, has failed in its understanding of seemingly unexplained occurrences. But I seem to have failed to see just what it is you're trying to say, Professor?'

'Yes, do you propose that we fund an expedition to unravel its mysteries or something to that effect, Professor?' asked Sir Boyd curiously.

'Or perhaps you wish to find lost Spanish gallons with weight worth of gold within its course?' tried Sir Albert.

'Maybe the Professor proposes to find the lost city of Atlantis?' mocked Sir Calkins, finding it hard to control his laughter.

But Professor Clayton remained unmoved. Instead he would simply allow his hand to ease open the lid of the small box that he had earlier placed upon the table. Its worn edges began to shine a striking blue, illuminating the room now in a most magnificent cast. And there, inside the box for all to see, lay an incredible bright blue crystal?

'Spanish gallons I think not,' said Professor Clayton, his voice deep with sincerity, 'To merely unravel a mystery... please?' he added with distaste, 'And what of Atlantis, a once ancient city of the Greeks where it is said that an entire civilisation was lost to the sea; destroyed perhaps by the very power and means of its own of creation?' He leaned closer, 'Fire–crystals, of which is believed to have held great power and mystery far beyond any one man's reasoning? Perhaps the Bermuda Triangle is caused by such mastery? If so, such hellish a sea would be the true resting place of Atlantis, would it not?' A gleam shone brightly in his eyes, 'gentlemen, care to consider only this; if such a truth has been put before you, then what is it that you now bear witness too?'

'But, if that is...?' tried Sir Griffin with astonishment, 'I mean, if we are to believe... then surely its pigment would be more fiery would it not, Professor?'

'Yes...' he replied, a boyish smile slowly beginning to creep across his face, 'but only if you care to believe in myth? Gentlemen, I put it to you that Atlantis was not founded of Fire–crystals, but in fact... from that of a star.'

'Why whatever do you mean?' asked Sir Boyd.

'It is my belief that when Christopher Columbus wrote of fires falling from the sky, he was naturally referring to comets or falling stars if you like. The year was 1492, and in that time an incredible event occurred about the night's sky. One it can be estimated, not seen for almost four–hundred years before. An event that may have even occurred around the time of the sinking of Atlantis – perhaps even its birth – Galileo's Cry of Oranos; the Greek's first ancient God of the sky.

You see, Atlantis was not only a city enriched with mystical powers beyond anything known to this earth. Oh no, it was much more than that, gentlemen, it was in fact born not of this earth. It is my belief that life was given just as easily as it was taken by this particular event. Stars from the heavens, travelling beyond a billon galaxy's before ours and born of another earth. An event so mysterious to our mere understanding, so powerful, that in its creation it forged a like between the two; A portal to another time and place – A world held in secret by the Atlantians; one which they took with them for all eternity until now!' Professor Clayton lit up with excitement, 'in short, it is my intention to prove its existence. To harness a vast knowledge long since lost to the Atlantians... and to rediscover the unknown ventures of a true New World.'

He forced the lid closed with a snap.

'He's right,' claimed Sir Boyd, 'short of frothy odd days from now an event not seen for many a millennium – one such as described by Professor Clayton – is due to occur?'

'Then let us believe for a moment that what the Professor claims, is indeed true,' ventured Sir Calkins, 'who knows when mankind may ever get another chance?

'Certainly not in our lifetime,' said Sir Boyd thoughtfully.

'Precisely,' agreed Professor Clayton, 'it is but a mere window of opportunity that we must meet with if our venture is to ever succeed!'

'And with such a case for timing within this world, Professor,' asked Sir Albert, 'just how exactly do you intend to return home?'

'If myth is indeed fact, then it stands to reason that the laws of our world do not apply to the laws of another. Save maybe some comparisons such as air, water, gravity, even seasons of weather? But astronomic equations as such may well be very much far beyond our universe of discourse?' he replied confidently, 'However, gentlemen, I am quite sure that if I can enter then it stands to reason that so too can I leave.'

'And you believe this crystal to be a key of some sort,' asked Sir Calkins, 'with regard to a portal and so forth?'

'Or a compass...?' replied Professor Clayton thoughtfully, 'Nevertheless, a means to discovering a new and quite unimaginable world.'

'Alright, Professor,' said Sir Griffin, 'you've made quite the case. With independent examination and the backing of the Board, what is it that you propose?'

'It is my belief that we have an agreement... I seek funding for a quest of knowledge, and you seek wealth beyond that which you already have. The day after tomorrow I shall set sail from the Port of London upon the Queen Marry. My task is to venture right into the heart of the Bermuda Triangle. Using this star, I shall guide my craft to where the night's sky falls with fire; the long awaited event of Galileo's Cry of Oranos. There I shall wait until chance gives rise to dare tempt the Gods of faith, the opening forth of the sky together with that of the sea; the craft of a portal in creation. And I shall venture forth, travelling beyond what little stars we know of in this galaxy or the next. Venturing to where who can say... nor ever believe. Just think; just think of the importance to mankind a discovery like this could make? Everything we presume to know now needing to be rediscovered and rewritten. And we, the first to lead the way on a brave new frontier.'

'And what of your findings, Professor?' asked Sir Boyd nervously.

'The usual obligations of my work shall be retained by the University and vested interest, of course.'

Sir Griffin glanced about the room. It was time to make a decision.

Chapter 2

The Birth of a Voyage

Port of London

Among the many ships set at port, the Queen Marry by large was the only ship afloat that could truly be described as magnificent. As a vessel it stood large in craft with hull of iron. Two tall steam pipes rose from its stern, and from its side spun a vast wheel; tasked in labour to ferry water to the cooling of its engine. Adding to this, throughout its decks grew a great many sails cast high and proud. Crafted for love of both new and old seafaring ways, its care was set in charge to Captain James Robert Frances. Tall and of rugged charm, he was a strong man with hands worn in callus from many a sail upon a harsh sea.

Currently, amid the everyday runnings of the port from the view of the ship's bridge window, Captain J. R. Frances pondered over his latest chartered venture...

'Hell's Gate?' he said to himself, seeing his mind of thought through the dim refection of the window, 'what will the wealthy think of next upon idle days free of honest living? So easily do such pay in kind. So easily should I kneel for want of days far from long and worthless to labour of love? The good lady that is fortune comes finally with ransom, warmth under the lure of her true treacherous shine.' He took a sip of coffee from his tin cup; a fresh welcome of strength to his weary mind. 'One last voyage; One last payment... then free, free at last to charter as we dare. But Hell's Gate, of all places our final price should be this?'

'But for a good life at sea,' suggested Officer Edward. W. Ellington, Captain J. R. Frances' First Mate, 'what more could you ask for, Sir?'

'A ship to call home, some fine wine and the love of a good woman,' he replied warmly, 'but I warn you, Hell's Gate is no water to find yourself foolishly adrift within. Though I must concede, against my better judgment... I am compelled greatly to charter this land–lover's voyage?'

'And who could be the wiser man, Sir, knowing of the life that we, the common seaman, like to call less worthy,' said Ellington sincerely, 'But if I may, Sir, this Professor... what exactly does he require in the way of our service?'

'You may,' he replied firmly, 'Professor Clayton wishes to chart our vessel with the sole requirement of setting sail across the Atlantic Ocean. His intention is to voyage to Hell's Gate. To land–lovers it is known by another name, the Bermuda Triangle. Once there, he intends to have us hold upon its outer rim, observing the un–tamed will of this uncharted sea. All going well we put to port upon the lands of the Americas; paid in full and free to go upon our merry way.'

'It seems straight forward for such a payment in hand,' suggested Ellington, 'the outer rim doesn't sound so bad?'

'The outer rim is like the bite of a snake. Though its venom is what stops your heart, its bite is what delivers your death. If you are not careful to avoided it's warn of strike, easily will you find yourself adrift upon the heart of its venomous sea.'

'Then why take such a risk for something as simple as mere observation?' he asked, 'and for the matter, why charter this vessel above all others?'

'That's what worries me?' he thought aloud, 'Perhaps the Queen Marry has come to grow a reputation? Perhaps it is the only ship this side of the known globe to dare such a risk? But what I do know is this; no seaman of sound mind would attempt such a voyage for fear of pirates, cruel fated weather or shipwrecks and such like alone.'

'And not of myth, Sir?'

'There was a time,' he replied distantly, 'once, when good men lost their minds. Old seadog stories of things... unimaginable, to a mind long at sea. They say when the moon is brightest souls can be heard calling out from their murky graves. Some believe that there are creatures in its depths; they roam with ill only to swallow ships whole, never to be seen again. My personal favourite is the whispering lure of maidens, fair in beauty but treacherous in love. But I say that it's mere piracy or human error that sees ships lost to her sea. And if you ask me, in hand of sound mind she can be no more than a hard sail through freak weather at best.'

'Well Captain,' began Ellington cheerfully, 'it seems that you have just answered your own question, wouldn't you say?'

'It appears so, but if we are going to do this I want every seaman armed with a rifle and sidearm – including you – is that clear?'

'Aye, Captain, I shall see to it personally!'

'Good, I don't want a repeat of that Somalian incident again.'

When it comes to retaking a ship armed with a butter knife, one neatly folded napkin and a face full of wiry stubble, it's no easy task!

'Yes, Sir,' replied Ellington, both seeming to share an embarrassing image of the past, 'uncharted seas would be enough to deal with without that happening again.' He paused awkwardly, 'maybe we should...?'

'Agreed, but leave out the napkins this time...at least the flowery ones,' replied Captain Frances, 'Something tells me that we may need them. I have a feeling that this Professor of ours isn't being entirely truthful?'

Professor Clayton stepped out from the comfort of his automobile. Placing his foot onto the fresh walkways of the Port of London, he eyed that of his chosen destination... the Queen Marry. This had been the day that he had longed for. It had been a long stretch from first discovering the mysterious crystal some four years earlier while on a small expedition of the coast of Greece. Four years of research. Four years trying to discover its true meaning. Though now, scenting the crisp air of the open sea before him, he intended this day of all to be joyous. No more wishful theory. Not this time. His heart willed to prove times worth. It willed to distinguishing the flames of theory that had burned him so many times before. As too, did it will to discard with the Board of Trusties and their faceless investors, 'thank you, Jeffry,' he began, 'if you would be so kind now as to see to my luggage, it would be most appreciated. I must make waves, so to speak, in introducing myself to the Captain of this fine seafaring vessel.'

'Certainly, Sir,' replied his manservant while holding the door open.

'Oh, and one more thing, Jeffry,' he added politely, 'could you check to see that the University's cargo has arrived safely, too?'

'But of course, though I trust that everything should be in order Sir.'

'Quite right, but we cannot be too careful these days, now can we?'

'Of course not, Sir.'

As the Professor began to make his way aboard the Queen Marry, he unknowingly passed a shadow of secrecy? From its fall it seemed that someone, hidden beneath the cover of cargo, was waiting for a particular opportunity, 'we're almost there,' said the voice of a young boy quietly, 'just a little further...'

'Are you sure that this is going to work?' said another, though she was less quiet.

'We've made it this far, haven't we?' he replied, trying to move aside some of the cargo's netting for a clearer view, 'all we need to do now is stowaway on the right ship?'

'But what if someone should catch us?' asked his friend worriedly, 'It's bound to happen sooner or later, Zack.'

'Would you keep it down back there,' he replied, 'once we're on board it won't matter. They'll be too far from port to turn around; they'll have to take us with them.'

'They could throw us overboard, you know,' she ventured, 'or at any rate they're bound to turn us over to the authorities – we could get arrested, then what?!'

'Well, we'll just have to take our chances and worry about that later, I guess?' he tried, 'besides Suzie, you don't want Miss Clancy to catch us again. We'll be sent back to the Orphanage for sure, then what do you think will happen? You'll have no choice but to go to her office and you know what happens there!'

'That Miss Clancy is a nasty one isn't she,' she replied bitterly, 'I'll never go back there again... never!' They fell silent as a lone dock worker strode by. 'Zack,' she hissed once more, hoping that the coast was clear, 'how do we know which ship is the right one?'

He paused for a long moment before replying, 'that one, I heard some of the Dockers saying that it's due to set sail soon.'

'Which one...?'

'The Queen Marry,' said Zack firmly, 'it's big too, with lots of cargo to hide in.'

'Lucky for us,' she replied wearily, 'are you sure you're not just picking the biggest one here to make me feel better? You know how much I don't like the water.'

'Sure I am,' he replied not so innocently, 'after all this time that we have been on the run together, I think I know what I'm doing... trust me!'

'Trust you,' she gasped, 'we've only been on the run since breakfast?'

'Captain James Robert Frances; please allow me to introduce myself,' began the Professor with a charming smile and tilt of his hat, 'my name is Professor Clayton, William .S. Clayton. The man I fear that you may soon hold responsible for your sudden wealth... should our voyage be successful?'

'Professor,' replied Captain Frances, his care for polite introductory just as rugged as the stubble that carved the lines of his face, 'I'll get straight to the point; this ship sets sail for the fine waters of nowhere if you are not entirely truthful with me.'

But Professor Clayton remained unmoved, 'why whatever do you mean, Captain?' he asked.

'If I am to understand correctly, Professor, your influence with the University has somehow managed to charter you a vessel – my vessel to be precise – headed for none other than that of Hell's Gate...'

'I think you will find that it is the Bermuda Triangle which is clearly printed on your shipping mandate. It is but a mere observationally expedition in which I intend to...'

'Don't bore me with the details, Professor,' said Captain Frances sternly, 'I couldn't care less for your experiments and such nonsense alike.' He leaned closer, his eyes narrow with warn, 'my point is this; I don't like surprises... if you understand my meaning?!'

'This is the Queen Marry, is it not?' asked Professor Clayton, playful in his tone.

'There is no other like Her,' replied Captain Frances with an air of curiosity.

'And that would make you, Captain James Robert Frances – though well respected – a mere thug as far as I can see? A man, who if need be, would take on thirty pirates armed with a mere butter knife to save ship and crew; Would that, Captain, describe your reputation?' But Captain Frances would not reply, staring coldly somewhere beyond Professor Clayton's word of mock. 'Understand this, Captain,' he continued, 'you will find that I – a mere old man happy in the comfort of his trusted armchair by the warmth of a good fire – am not, Sir, the kind to coward so easily as seems others do?'

'Are you implying that I...'

'I am implying, Captain, that if you are not capable of the needs I require, then I shall have no option but to find someone else who is!' said Professor Clayton, 'I do not have the patients to stand here lowering myself to bicker with you. We are on a precise time frame that waits for no man. Now, do you wish beyond the mere fish–gut life you rise to see here every morn... or shall I find some else who does, Captain?'

'Oh I wish, Professor,' replied Captain Frances with equal measure, 'more than you'll ever know. But let's get one thing perfectly clear... this is my vessel, I run things atop of these decks, not you! This may well be the University's expedition, but when it comes to the ways of seafaring craft, you hold least authority than the fish–gut you will so humbly eat for supper upon this voyage.'

'Then it is with all due respect that I say; permission to come aboard, Captain?'

'As long as we understand each other, Professor,' replied Captain Frances, 'then as we like to say around here... the birth of a voyage is agreed.'

'Very good, Captain, I welcome your decision with a sense of curiosity for what may unfold upon our sea–legged days together? Now if you will excuse me, I must attend to the University's cargo before we set sail.' Professor Clayton turned to make leave for the dock before pausing, adding with a hint of mischief, 'if that is alright with you, of course?'

His reply came only as a deep frown for boyish mockery. However, Professor Clayton simply cast a hint of smile. And daring to continue his leave, he began to playfully whistle about the morning's air much to the annoyance of Captain J. R. Frances.

But why, Captain Frances would ask while eyeing the Professor's carefree motion... why did he suddenly get a feeling that he wasn't carrying enough butter knifes on board?

'The University's cargo has all been accounted for, Sir,' stated Professor Clayton's manservant, 'however I feel that the crew may become somewhat suspicious as to its weight?'

'Excellent,' he replied while approaching, 'nevertheless, have the crew prepare to ship it aboard. We set sail not before too long, now that matters of charge have been duly concluded.'

'I am delighted to hear that the Captain has agreed, Sir.'

'Yes, though I fear he may lay a tad bit on the old stubborn side. However, I dare say he has more than exceeded his reputation, if truth be told.'

'No doubt he may well be thinking the same of you, Sir,' replied Jeffery, 'but I will never understand why you won't just hire someone more... obedient, Sir?'

'How your youth reminds me. If only I were cast with such good sense that you seemed to be enriched with,' replied Professor Clayton amusedly, 'I make it a point to hire those of strong mind, for mere yes–men are a dime a dozen in this world. And with the nature of our voyage, we could use the best that there is to be found on these fair shores.'

'Quite right, Sir.'

'If I wanted to take a sudden trip to the heavens, I would have simply hired someone who did as I asked without question.'

'Yes, sir, but it's a good thing you had that shipping mandate all the same.'

'And Sir Griffins' signature was all too easy. As for our cargo, the only thing of value is the University's crest stamped across its side,' he replied before tapping his pocket with a smile, 'luckily for us, however, everything that I require upon this voyage is on my person.'

'But the cargo, Sir, you really should have tried to find something to put in them,' said Jeffry, 'if just to make it a little more convincing? If the Captain's crew discover that they are empty whilst shipping them on board, they are bound to realize that the Board refused funding for your expedition.'

'I'm afraid that time was of short,' replied Professor Clayton, 'the Queen Marry must departed at noon or all else fails. With or without such cargo, it will not take the Board long before they discover what has happed. Our only hope is to take our chances as best we can. And let us pray, Jeffery, that the Captain's crew aren't as wise as we credit them to be...'

Just then, Professor Clayton felt a rather strange nudge to the lower side of his left leg? Glancing down, he first came to hear two young voices whispering in argument. Apparently, neither of the two cared to take the blame for their sudden misfortune in failing to remain hidden? But now, under the watchful gaze of Professor Clayton's curious sight, a young boy lay somewhat snared in the netting of cargo?

'Er... excuse me, Sir,' he tried, 'how's about a shoeshine, eh?'

It was an amusing accent, but far from convincing.

'Get your paper?'

Professor Clayton's gaze told him to drop it. He took his advice.

'Well, what is it that we have here?' he began, 'If I were none the wiser I would have to say that you, my boy, were in fact an attempted stowaway than that of a shiner? Though not a very good one it would seem?'

The young boy rose unsteadily to his feet, his cheeks a glow of embarrassment, 'sorry, Sir?'

'Come now, out with it for you know only too well of what I am implying,' said Professor Clayton sternly, 'you can start by telling me your name, if you would? – Your real name that is.'

'Zackary, Sir,' replied the young boy, 'but everyone calls me Zack.'

'Well Zackary – or Zack if you prefer – would you be so kind as to ask your little friend hiding behind those crates to come out too? I may be considerably old compared to you, but my wits are as sharp as ever I can assure you.'

Zack felt that he had no choice, signaling to his friend to come out. Reluctantly she revealed herself.

'Now then... this would be?'

'Suzan, Sir,' she replied quietly, her eyes full of scorn for Zack, 'but Zack calls me Suzie.'

Silently he tried to protest his innocents. She wasn't interested.

'Suzie, eh?' began Professor Clayton, leaning forward with a sense of curiosity, 'And would Suzie – according to Zackary – like to tell me what exactly you two were up to down there?'

'Well, Sir,' she began unsurely, 'we were trying to...?'

'To stowaway on a ship, perhaps...?'

'Yes, Sir,' she conceded, 'only...'

'Only you were foiled in the act, as it were,' finished Professor Clayton, 'now why on earth would two children want to stowaway on a ship?'

Suzan glanced down at her palms, Professor Clayton noting the distinctive lines of a cane that had crossed them so harshly.

'People don't care much for orphans, worst of all Sister Clancy...' said Zack, 'me and Suzie are all we've got. From now on we'll take care of each other.'

'I think you will find that it is Suzie and I?' corrected Professor Clayton, 'so to be free of ill hearts you hitch a plan to runaway? But to where upon this shore, or other, would such innocents find their rightful place?'

However, they could not find it in their hearts to reply. In truth, the answer was anywhere... anywhere but here.

'Oh please don't turn us in, Sir,' pleaded Suzan desperately, 'please, Sir... Sister Clancy would surely...'

'Never mind those self proclaimed Sisters,' he interrupted firmly, his eyes a flare of anger for such like, 'and it won't do you much good hiding in those crates either.'

'How so, Sir?' asked Zack.

Professor Clayton allowed a moment for thought. Soon his sight drifted a far, setting firmly upon a rather unsuspecting Captain J. R. Frances. He smiled artfully before crafting his next thought of word, 'because the Dockers make sure to check all cargo for stowaways before they even board. You would be far wiser to try your hand at those crates over there...' He pointed to a reasonably modest size cargo to his right, 'now those on the other hand, well, your chances would be far greater I should think?'

Jeffry felt the need to protest. He didn't get far.

'Why?' asked Zack.

'Because that is my cargo,' whispered Professor Clayton with a devilish wink of his eye, 'and no one but me has permission to rummage through it, I can promise you. Not even the ill forked tongues of the Sisters of the Blessed.'

'And just how are we supposed to do that,' asked Zack wearily, 'surely you would tell the Captain as soon as we hid there?'

'Though all my dreams may lie not upon a sure path, I must believe,' he replied warmly, 'In other words; there is only one way to find out. Besides, I would be much too frightened to cross paths with fugitives such as you.' He reached for his pocket watch, flicking its lid open with that of a calculated manner, 'the only ship westbound of this week sets sail to the fair wind at noon. It is precisely ten to the hour and I must take my leave of you both. However, I shall leave you with this final thought,' he leaned close, whispering, 'I won't tell anyone... if you don't.'

Again Jeffry felt the need to protest. Surely this was not a wise decision, was it? But apparently, as far as Professor Clayton was concerned, if these young orphans were intent on stowing away up a ship, then who was he to stop them. Besides, the University's cargo was very spacious, wasn't it?

Chapter 3

Free Butterflies of Summer

With the voyage underway, the Queen Marry sailed forth upon an unknown horizon. It would only be a matter of time before Captain Frances would discover Zack and Suzan. As expected, when he did he wasn't too pleased. Professor Clayton would of course deny any wrong doing; least not by he's means. However, Captain Frances knew only too well of his part, and if it was not for being at sea for too long a day, he would have turned ship and put both guest and stowaway to port. But the price of return voyage was too costly, worthless to his days of sail. Simply, he would have little choice but to continue.

And so many days passed. But for Zack and Suzan they had been long and not always full of excitement as first they thought. Captain Frances and the Professor had minds of unease. There was always tension, words of unspoken truth over this affair of stowaways. However, Captain Frances thought it best to put his feelings at rest – so too did Professor Clayton. In the meantime the Professor would busy himself with his study, and Captain Frances to that of his ship.

Some days, just to pass the time, Zack and Suzan would pretend to be pirates, hiding and seeking for one another throughout the ship. Though this would be much to the Captain's displease, his cold glance of eye always enough to give care for behaviour. But in truth his heart did begin to warm to them. And though he would try not to let it show, those whom knew him best could tell. As for the crew, they would at times show Zack and Suzan of the ship's running. On warm evenings they would swim in the ocean, and in particular, Zack was keen to learn how to spear fresh fish at sea. At times like this Suzan stayed on deck. She liked to write poems about life, plants and animals. She liked to write about the stars and the moon and the sun. She liked to write about how she felt the world ought to be. The Sisters at the Orphanage would not let her do so. Everything was a sin to them. But sitting cosily on deck now, finding Zack's attempts of fishing amusing, she would be free to write as she dared.

At the end of day the crew would gather atop of deck about an open fire. Here they would cook their catch to feast and sing and dance beneath the glorious stars of a night. It was Suzan's favourite time. She quite liked the sound of traditional music. She quite liked that silly feeling that it gave her as she danced – the Fiddle and the Pennywhistle, the Bodhran and the Accordion – Professor Clayton and Captain Frances joining in with the amusement of all. Of those days at sea it was as though all was right with the world. But upon one such evening Zack sat alone for a time. He was deep in thought as he watched the sun set across the ocean.

Soon, Professor Clayton came to his side. 'It's wonderful, isn't it,' began Zack, 'do you think that you could ever find such an ocean anywhere else in the world as beautiful as this?'

'Perhaps you have heard of oceans which meet the desert? But few have heard of oceans within a desert,' replied Professor Clayton, 'now that, my boy... is quite a sight.'

'An ocean within a desert?'

'Oh yes, in some parts of the world – few mind you,' he said with a slight hint of mastery, 'they call them Ribbon Dunes; a place where once you could grasp many a grain of sand in your hand, almost elusive in its nature as it slips through your fingers; a place where such now becomes no more than mud, sluggish and frail in its once grand design. That, my young friend, is a sight most beautiful when you have had your fill of an everlasting earth crying out with the want of thirst. To some it would be quite impossible to believe... though it exists nevertheless.'

'Have you seen it?'

'There was a time, once when I found myself upon the north–eastern coast of Brazil,' he replied with a smile, 'but let us not speak of how such came to be – some associates of mine would care not to remember.'

'Wouldn't that be such a sight to see?'

'Perhaps someday you will?'

'Why did you help us?' asked Zack after a moment of silence, 'I mean, you could have said something but you didn't – why?'

Professor Clayton allowed time for thought, 'if life's path is laid before you least unfortunate than others, can you not afford to extend such courtesy to those less enriched?' he said, 'the secret to life, my boy, is all but left to chance. When it calls, dare to chance the tide and let fate be your guide.

'I don't understand?' said Zack, 'What do mean?'

'Someday, when you are old and wise, you will understand the true meaning of my words. Until such a time – and I pray that it is far, far less misguided than I – your burden of youth is to simply live it.'

'That's the secret,' he asked, 'to live...?'

'Only one version I'm afraid, but of course there are many others. The question is; which one is relevant to you?' said Professor Clayton amusingly, his boyish eyes wide and lit with charm.

'So, what about you Professor, what brings you here?' asked Zack, 'Which one did you choose?'

'Who, me? – Why I am but an old man searching for my place in the world too. It's seems in my age of old, I have found myself as a gentleman of my time but not of its progress; a relic lost to a society once so splendid?' Professor Clayton thought for a moment, as though dreaming of a time where he once belonged. 'But come, enough words must you hear from a foolish old man. Tell me of yourself for so many days endlessly adrift, I have yet to learn of your true origin. May I be kindly permitted to ask as to what path has led you two here?'

'Suzie was five or six when we first met,' replied Zack, 'she moved around a lot, one place to the next – too old for homing. Like me, people only wanted younger children; to watch them take their first step or hear their first words. Not us, in the end we would be too old to think of them as our real parents; we'd always know. But the younger ones, well...' Zack seemed to sigh with a heavy sadness before he continued, 'I suppose that's why we stuck with each other? We tried to make a family of our own. We tried searching for a place where we could belong. Like the older kids we hit the streets, surviving as best we could. When hunger became too much we pinched food. We used damp cardboard as shelter at night and learned to love its smell. We never stopped moving. We never stayed in one place for too long. You had to keep moving, if you didn't the streets could become a dangerous place. Though no matter what, at least we had each other. At least we could believe that tomorrow could bring something better? But if I thought that the streets were tough I was wrong. Sooner or later we knew that we'd get caught. When we did, they sent us to the Sisters of the Blessed.'

'A place less befitting of its name I fear?'

'I mean don't get me wrong,' replied Zack, 'it wasn't all that bad; Suzie had a warm bed at night, three meals a day and clean clothes to wear. It's just that the Sisters were more than strict. And no matter the roof over your head, it wasn't really somewhere you could call home.'Zack began to recall his time spent in the orphanage, 'in the morning the bell would ring down the lone corridors. Sister Marry loved to ring that old thing, walking from the boys' dormitory to the girls. Up you got, queuing with the rest for your chance at the wash room. Cleaned behind your ears and brushed your teeth, before getting dressed to percent yourself at the end of your bed for inspection. But if you had a crooked line in your shirt, you had a sore hand for a week – So many times I wanted to break that cane, even if it was across my hand,' thought Zack while clenching his fist. 'After breakfast you had morning prayers then schooling. You couldn't help anyone, even if they couldn't read too well; the Sisters would make sure of that. Yard time was when I got to see Suzie. At first we tried to fit in with the other kids, but everyone's got their own problems I guess? Sometimes, me and Suzie, we'd dare each other to climb the trees and see who could go the highest? If you made it without been seen, you could chuck stones down at the sisters when they weren't looking – Though you wouldn't always getting away with it. At times like that you got sent to Sister Clancy's office, the last place anyone wanted to end up. If you stepped out of line with her too much, it was the workhouse for you.'

'Such cruel a fate,' said Professor Clayton, Zack seeming distant now, 'for unjust seems the true care of man; sins we so foolishly deem worthy?'

'I remember once sneaking out from my room, meeting Suzie by the entrance of the bell tower. It was just off the grand hall, and if you timed it right, you could rush up its spiral stairway without ever being seen. Out across the rooftops we'd go, sitting high above our troubles below, just watching the sun set. Suzie would always wish we could float away, float like the free butterflies of summer...

Do you think that we will ever find our place, Zack? Somewhere beneath the stars, floating away like the free butterflies of summer. Wouldn't it be wonderful? – Promise, promise that you always stay with me?

...I promise...

'That evening, sitting there beneath the stars overlooking the cobbled streets below, I didn't have the heart to tell Suzie that I was going to be sent away,' conceded Zack while recalling the moment of his promise, 'I had been sent the Sister Clancy's office too many times for one thing or the other. You see, Suzie, she had found herself in trouble and I knew that she couldn't take another going over... I could see it in her eyes.'

'So you took the blame,' said Professor Clayton worriedly, 'knowing only too well that it would be your last to bear?'

'What else could I do? It was better me than Suzie – not with where she was going to end up anyway,' he replied heartedly, 'Sister Clancy told me that I'd never see her again, not this time.' Zack lay in thought for a moment, almost as though he were saying farewell to everything he had ever known; saying farewell to a place that he should have been able to call home. 'Strange isn't it,' he said at last, 'I've chosen to run away all my life, and now... now I have to?'

For the first time in his life Professor Clayton could not find words of comfort. Perhaps, he thought as they both eyed the sunset, sometimes such words would be best left to the sound of silence.

For Zack, this was to be his last fond memory of their voyage together. Soon the days turned bitter, the mind of man seeming changed by a darkly sea – the Professor most of all? And it would not be long thereafter, before the birth of a great storm would begin. The ship had sailed too far, and the fate of all was cast to the will of tide...

Chapter 4

The Rise of a New Dawn

Present day

It was dark. The sea was cold, but in the darkness a strange blue light began to glow? It was Professor Clayton's crystal, and it willed Zack to follow. However, beneath the surface Zack could not save him. Professor Clayton was too heavy, the depths of the sea laying claim upon his soul now. He thrust the crystal into Zack's hand. He willed him to use it!

"Forgive me, my boy, for I cannot follow"

Zack could no longer help; he could no longer hold his breath. It was time to reach the surface. It was time to reach out for Suzan...

When Zack came too, he found that both he and Suzan lay upon a raft of wreckage. Somehow it had drifted inland, wedged upon the side of a bank in a shallow stream of fresh water? About them the land was tick with wilderness, almost as if forgotten by time its self. Though lost to the unknown, as he stirred to his side, he was happy for now to at least have survived the storm.

'Where are we?' asked Suzan.

'I don't know?' he replied while wearily looking about, 'we must have been out for some time?'

'Do you think anyone else made it?'

'It's hard to say? If they did, they're elsewhere I guess?'

'What about the professor and Captain Frances?'

Zack shook his head with regret, 'best not to think about it, Suzie,' he finally replied, 'let's just worry about finding some shelter and getting warm for now.'

'Shelter...? Warmth...?' said Suzan with displease, 'I suppose you're just going to strike a match and hey presto we've got a fire? We're lost Zack – Just soaked to the bone and lost in the middle of the wilderness?!' The moment fell quiet as a lone wolf howled in the distance, 'it's getting cold...' she dared as they both nudged a bit closer, eyes shifting uneasily, 'I'm hungry too.'

Zack began to laugh. Soon Suzan followed in his amusement, 'come on,' he said, 'let's just see what we can find. If we made it then maybe some of the crew did too?'

Moving further downstream, the venture of path became unclear, slain with trees in parts to act as bridge across breaks of earth, distant in their fall. And soon no bird would sing. The trees fall bare and black in shade, forming overhead like a ghostly archway steeped in an eerie float of mist. And the river ran dry, and the warmth of sun dared not a foot more.

Carefully Zack continued to make his way, but Susan wasn't so sure.

'I don't like this, I think we should turn back?' she said.

'Perhaps you're right?' he replied, 'let's just go a little further and see what's over the next rise. If it doesn't improve much by then we'll turn back.'

'I don't know... I have a bad feeling about this?' she insisted, 'It's creepy here, and I'm not too keen on finding out why?'

Zack sudden came to a halt, 'did you see that?'

'See what?'

'I thought I saw something...' he pointed, 'just over there?'

'Stop it Zack you're scaring me,' said Suzan, 'I don't see anything? There's no one here but us, and I do think that we should turn back right now.'

But Zack would remain still, listening with care, 'maybe it's one of the crew... another survivor?' he hoped.

'Are you sure you seen someone?' she asked quietly, 'it could just be your imagination playing tricks on you?'

'Maybe you're right,' said Zack at last, failing to see anything more, 'perhaps it was just my imagination?'

'Good, at last we can agree on something. Now can we please turn back? If you must explore, I'm sure that there are a lot more places you could find that aren't as creepy as this?'

'Okay Suzie, you win... my nerves are starting to get to me too,' he conceded, 'let's go back. If there are other survivors it's probably best not to wonder too far. Maybe there is a coastline, a beach or something like that nearby? Somewhere we could wait for help and be seen more easily too.'

As they made their way back, from behind, many roots began to slider across the earth?

'I wonder what the professor would have thought about this place?' said Zack, 'I bet he would have been brave enough to continue.'

'Wishing he was here, are we?' said Suzan, 'After what he did to us?'

'He helped us...' replied Zack.

'Like he helped Captain Frances and his crew?' she replied angrily, 'He changed the ship's course; you know that? He put everyone in danger and for what... some ridiculous fantasy?!'

'I told you, he was not himself – even Captain Frances knew so. If it wasn't for Professor Clayton we would never have made it.' Zack pulled out the crystal from his pocket, 'he gave this to me – when the ship went down – don't you see; he gave himself to save us, Suzie!'

'And here we are safe and sound, is that how you see it?' she dared, 'do you even know what that thing is for, or did you hit your head a little too hard when we were washed ashore? This isn't the streets of London anymore, Zack. You can't just grab food from the kitchen of some fancy restaurant. You can't huddle beside any alley pipes for warmth beneath the street lights. We're lost – all alone and lost. There isn't any survivors, is there? It's like you said, Zack; it's just you and me now... like it's always been!'

Zack turned sharply, 'I suppose you'd prefer to be back at the orphanage with sister Clancy breathing down your neck?!'

'At least it would have been warm,' she replied hastily, 'at least I would have known what to expect!' She threw her eyes to the heavens, 'I should never have listened to you in the first place... We'll ever find our way back now?'

'Don't you get it; Professor Clayton was right... there is no going back, not for us!'

'But we're lost Zack, and if we can't go back then where exactly do you propose we go from here?'

'We're not lost, Suzie,' he replied with hope, 'we're free, free at last to make our own place in the world – somewhere we can belong. Here we don't have to be lost. Here we don't have to be orphans anymore. No streets or alley ways or Sisters of the Blessed...we're free, Suzie, free to choose our own destiny... and it can be whatever we want it to be!'

'Well this is some start,' she replied furiously, 'right back where we started by the looks of it, wouldn't you say?!' Zack froze, seeming as though their argument had gotten the better of him, 'okay, I'm sorry,' she said, unaware of what now loomed behind her, 'I'm just a little tired and hungry, that's all. I didn't mean what I sad, well, most of it anyway?' But Zack was not for moving. 'What...?' she laughed, 'Why are you looking at me like that?'

His eyes drifted slowly over her shoulder. She could tell now that something was wrong?!

The roots come swift, wrapping around wrist and ankle, daring to drag them both beep into the darkness of its ill heart. Desperately they struggled to break free, holding one another from harm if only for a time. However, the more they did resist the more the roots grew with strength. And many closed in upon them, seeming now to turn to stone; a strange unfolding of form that slowly crept throughout?

And soon Zack would no longer be able to hold onto Suzan. The roots were too great, and they did drag her further from his reach. Now, disappearing into the heart of darkness, only the echoes of her cry remained; a stone wall of root setting firmly before him!

Unwilling to give in Zack rushed to its side, pounding upon its surface with his fist. But it was of little use, the stone was not for moving. It would never move, no matter how hard he tried. Everything was set in stone; the roots, the foliage, even the ground and trees were now made of stone. And behind him, within the shadows the forest now formed like a great maze? Rising to his feet, he began to move with care. He could still hear Suzan's cry for help in the distance, her echoes seeming to surround him? But ahead something lurked within the mist? Something moved deceitfully as though taunting his every move?

...Zack!...

'Hold on, Suzie, I'm coming!'

...Help me, Zack, help me!...

'Where are you?!' he cried, blindly taking turn for turn without care, 'Suzie, can you hear me? Call out if you can hear me?!'

A shadow sharply past before him!

'Who's there?' he said, vigilantly eyeing the distant pathway, 'I know that there's someone there. Whoever you are, show yourself!'

And again a shadow did pass, though this time from behind?

...They're coming Zack!...

'Why don't you show yourself? I'm not afraid of you!' he yelled definitely, his voice echoing about the air in endless circles, 'You hear me? I'm not afraid of anything—just leave her alone!'

...Alone!... Alone!... Alone!...

In the silence that followed... Suzan screamed!

'Suzie!'

Quickly he ran as fast as he could. Desperately calling for her, he took which ever path that came to him as instinct. And he did scrap against the roughness of stone, falling to his knees at times, the carving of tree and foliage rushing by as he fought his way to continue. But the maze had many ends of false lure, and time and time again he would have to retrace his steps? It was time, he knew, that he could not afford. But within the mist the shadows again grew with life, swift in their hunt for they did now come to seek him out. And for every turn or foot he gained, he could feel their presence upon his heel—Thud!

Zack's world went dark?

He never knew what had hit him... he never even seen it coming.

Let me go!

Take this little princess to the Falls...

What about him?

He'll be alright, just a little surprised when he comes to...

See that he fetches a fair price.

No!

Chapter 5

An Unexpected Guest

Hey, wake up.

Hullo, anybody home?

Oh come on, kid... this is serious!

Zack slowly began to stir. He could feel a throbbing pain beginning to swirl around his head. Slowly, he looked from side to side. It was dark, his surroundings seeming like that of a small room? He could tell that the walls were of rock. And above, only a window secured with iron allowed light to pass through?

'Where I'm I?' he began, 'what happened...Suzie, are you alright?!'

'Hey, do I look like "Suzie" to you, kiddo?'

He looked to his side. Whoever it was, it certainly wasn't Suzan?

'Hey, who are you?' he asked, a tiny woman seeming to float before him, 'what's going on and what have you done with my friend?!'

'Would you keep it down already,' she said, a pair of wings fluttering swift as she moved, 'do you want to get us caught or something? Some of us around here are trying to escape, Mister!'

Zack felt as though he was in a dream, 'but I'm...?' he tried, daring to believe the possibility that she was a fairy? 'And you're...? – Oh this can't be happing?'

'You're telling me, kiddo, one little credit problem and the world goes crazy...who knew?' She shifted from side to side, checking to see if the coast was clear, 'by the way; the names Cara, Cara of the Celtic Meadows – And you are?'

'Zack,' he said confusedly.

'Zack, that's... what kind of name is that?!' The moment paused awkwardly, 'I mean don't get me wrong, it's cool and all? But it's just that I thought it would be something a little bit more like, Sebastian? You know, long, poetic, mysterious – fits the profile of a washed up unknown calling out for his damsel in distress.' She floated to his side for a closer inspection, 'so, what are you in for?' She waved her hands, 'no, let me guess; the old misdemeanour – unpaid parking ticket... or was it something a little bit more "up–scale"?'

'I was looking for Suzie; we were shipwrecked. There were shadows, a forest turning to stone?' replied Zack while rubbing his head, 'I must have passed out after that? I can't remember?'

'Great, talk about a conversation killer,' she said, 'of all the cells and people to be shacked up with, I get the kid with apparent memory loss?'

'Alright, just what is going on around here?!' asked Zack, 'Where am I and how did I get here?!'

'If I tell you will you keep that annoying mouth of yours quiet?' asked Cara, not wishing to attract any unwanted attention, 'Seriously, what's a girl have to do to get a break around here?'

'Fine,' agreed Zack, 'but this better be good...'

'Gee, talk about pressure,' she began, 'Okay – for those of us who have temporally lost their minds – this is Rock Fall Castle. A great fortress carved out of the highest peak of the highest mountain. It's ruled by a Dark Lord with the same old plans of world domination. And we, old buddy, old pal, are how you might say... held captive.' Calmly, she examined her fingernails, 'not that it is a big deal or anything, but some of us would like to escape before we meet with an untimely end, understand?'

However, before Zack could reply, an old door creaked in its opening from the far side of the room? Shadows moved beneath a flickering light. And as a deep voice spoke, Zack tightened his eyes in an effort to see who had now entered the room?

'You're not suppose to discuss plans of escape with visitors without the correct paperwork,' it said, 'I have not been informed, and I certainly do not have an escape permit for cell – I mean, room – 315 today?'

'Hey, what's with the fairies repression?' asked Cara furiously, 'Sister can't afford a permit so you think that you can keep her tush in lockup, is that it?!' Swiftly she turned to Zack, 'have you got a permit... nobody told me anything about needing a permit?'

'Wait, this can't be real?' said Zack, rising to his feet, 'the last time I checked, fairies didn't exactly exist?'

Franticly, Cara dazzled through the air, 'you can't just say something like that; why, because somewhere, right now, a fairy has just dropped dead!' She snapped her fingers, 'just like that, and it could have been me, Mister!'

'What are you talking about?'

'Beats me, kid, I just read it in a book somewhere?' she replied innocently, 'besides, if I'm supposedly a figment of your imagination, then what do you call that?' She pointed toward the flickering light, whispering with conviction, 'not exactly "the norm" now is it, kid?'

A green hand raised its lantern to a point where it illuminated the entire room.

Zack was definitely in a cell? And the figure that stood at the doorway was definitely not a person too?

'Look, kid, it's mostly bald with some sort of plaited ponytail,' continued Cara, 'pointy ears with bits missing, big black eyes, a crooked nose and little husks sticking out from the bottom of its mouth.' She pressed herself firmly against his cheek, 'brace yourself, kiddo, bad breath comes as a standard feature with these bad boys, no premium required.'

Zack seemed puzzled, 'what is it?' he asked.

'That my little friend is an Orc,' said Cara, 'and let me tell you, he's pretty tame compared to the rest?'

'Yap, it's true... I'm an orc,' said the orc.

He felt that all the best lines had been taken.

'Alright, I get the point,' said Zack wearily, 'but this still doesn't make any sense? I have no idea why I'm here? There must be some mistake...all I know is that I need to find Suzie?!'

'Suzie?' tried the orc, 'I don't know anyone named Suzie?'

Zack turned to Cara, not seeming convinced, 'don't look at me, kid,' she replied, 'you're the one whose lost his marbles?'

'Just let me go,' said Zack, 'you have no right to hold me here!'

'Yeah, now you're talking my kind of language kid,' said Cara, 'we demand a retrial... or, at least a trial?'

'Trial?' asked the orc.

Cara folded her arms, 'let me guess, there's a permit for that too?'

'Well...' began the orc, not sure if it was wise to answer her question, 'if there is nothing else, I mustn't neglect my other prisoners – I mean, guests.' He twiddled his thumbs nervously, 'that is, of course, if you would like a permit?'

There was an obvious silence about the air. He could tell that it was time for a hasty retreat.

'Eh, never mind,' he said quickly while fumbling to close the door, 'I'll just... and you have a nice incarceration...I mean stay, you have yourself a nice stay...why would I say incarceration? I don't know why I even said that?'

Thud!

The door closed firmly, almost rattling with nerves.

'Hey,' screeched Cara to the lone echoes that remained, 'you forgot fresh towels?'

In hindsight, she had to admit, it was a rather embarrassing comment.

'Great, I just can't believe any of this is really happening?' said Zack, 'First I get shipwrecked, then I end up losing Suzie, chased by shadows and now... I'm stuck here with you?'

'Hey, don't you dare put this on me kid,' replied Cara, 'if you would have just woken up when I needed you then...' She paused for a moment, 'did you say "chased by shadows?"'

'Yes, shadows; in the stone forest...'

'There's that word again... "Shadows"?'

'I know, I thought it sounded crazy at first?'

'Kid, I want you to think real carefully; when you said shadows, what exactly did you mean – your friend was taken by these shadows?'

'My head's still a little bit funny...' he tried, 'something about taking her to the falls; a princess, I think?'

'The Bounty?!' gasped Cara, 'Guard, Guard, I want a new roommate!' she yelled hysterically, 'I'm guilty; I tell you anything you want to know...just get me out of here!'

'Why, what's wrong?!' asked Zack worriedly.

'Someone call the coroner's office, tell them I'll come quietly!' she yelled, 'You're really not from around here are you?'

'Would you just tell me what is going on?!'

'Whatever your friend was into she's in real big trouble, kid. The Bounty are shadowed beings, form the past, the future, somewhere in–between, who knows? Summoned by a dark force, they hunt for their prey and they let nothing stand in their way – Not the kind of people you cross and live to talk about it, know what I'm saying?'

'But why would they take Suzie?' he asked, 'Why didn't they take me too?'

'They deal in the high–end market,' she replied, 'and a princess is valuable bounty in these parts.'

'But Suzie's not a princess...?'

'She's not?' thought Cara, 'Oh my God, we're all going to die... Guard, Guard, say it ain't so! – You roll some crazy dice my friend. When they realise that they have been duped, it's curtains for everyone involved, capiche?'

'Duped?' thought Zack, 'No, no, you've got it all wrong, we never duped anybody? It must be some kind of misunderstanding, that's all?'

'Save it for your headstone pal, I'm getting out of here.'

'Headstone...?' Zack didn't like the sound of that, 'you've got to help me, I have to save Suzie before it's too late?!'

'Why me kid, go check out the asylum wing,' cried Cara, 'I'm sure there's someone crazy enough to help you down there?'

'But I don't know this world like you do,' he tried, 'I need your help...I need to get to the Falls!'

'Sorry, kid, you're on your own with this...Guard, Guard? I mean seriously... what's a sister have to do to get some room service around here?' She turned sharply, 'throwing yourself to the lion's den, now that's just crazy talk. I'm putting some distance between me and you – six by four next wing down, comprenda?!'

'Look, I just wish you'd...'

'Oh, no–no–no,' she screeched worriedly, 'don't you dare think about doing what it is I think you're about to do?!'

'I wish you'd...'

'Enough with the wishing business already...?!'

'I wish...'

'Don't you dare...?'

'I really wish you would just help me?!'

'Damn it!'

A magical sensation began to overwhelm Cara of the Celtic Meadows? Her fingers and toes tingled. Her hair became fizzy and her eyes lit as she embraced the wish of a pure heart.

Cue one fairy and a bucket load of fearless attitude – 'Hell no?!' – Well, maybe not so fearless, but unfortunately very much full of attitude.

'Just great, now look at what you've gone and done?' she fumed, 'I was standing here minding my own business, when you had to make a wish?!' She folded her arms in a huff. Apparently, she wasn't the wishful type, 'I hope you're happy, Kiddo, I really do.'

'What do you mean?' asked Zack nervously.

'A pure heart wishes upon the sight of a fairy; granted it shall be as you are bound to I and I to you, till what's done is done,' she replied disapprovingly, 'Thanks a lot kid, now I'm right in the thick of it. It's like The Iron Mask meets The Fairy Who Knew Too Little... I'm doomed?'

'Well, aren't you going to wave your hand about or something,' he asked, 'you know, get us out of here?'

'Do I look like the Fairy Godmother to you? Some blue genie locked away in a damn lamp...I don't thing so?!' she replied grumpily, 'Besides, I'm fresh out of credit and I don't see a Top–Up Station anywhere around here, do you?'

'Credit?'

'Yeah, I use to go bill,' she replied, 'but when you're a struggling actress in search of a role, you wouldn't believe how it adds up?' Dusting her palms off, she began to be a little more helpful, 'alright, I guess we could do this the old fashion way? But I want it noted that I am doing this under due protest; I ain't the kind of "C' est la vie" sister, you got that pal?'

'The old fashion way?'

'I can't believe I'm doing this? I mean, who ever heard of a magical fairy anyway?' she mumbled to herself before continuing, 'I think I could squeeze through that small gap in the bottom of the door. Then, I could pop the lock from the outside?'

It seemed as good a plan as any. Besides, it wasn't like he had a choice.

A few moments later... the lock seemed to be giving trouble?

Apparently, from Zack's understanding, a more shall we say "diplomatic" approach was required.

"Why you little...?!"

Truly, is there anything more annoying than a stubborn lock?

In a cave hidden beyond the flow of a great waterfall, Suzan sat within a cage. It was hung high from the ground, and below, her captors gathered around a campfire. Apparently, there had been a slight misunderstanding? But for your everyday hostage taker – with the exception of a question mark – the silhouette portrait on the side of their morning milk carton was uncannily lifelike?

'For the last time,' she said, 'I'm not the princess that you're looking for, now let me go!'

'I don't get it,' said one of her captors, 'most young girls would love to be a princess? Always they say; please Mr. Troll, take me. I can be your princess, and let a brave knight in shining armour come to my rescue.' Wearily, the Troll shook his head, 'I'm blue in the face asking for credentials. But this one, she's a right unwilling one, she is?'

'Oh come on, there has been a dreadful misunderstanding,' pleaded Suzan, 'I'm not even dressed like a princess...you have to let me go!'

'That's how you know that you have a real keeper,' said another troll, 'princesses don't exactly advertise that they are who they say they are when travailing about.'

'It's always the ones you least suspected,' agreed the next, 'hiding in plain sight, right under your noise, eh? Two things you must learn in this game; the higher the value the less likely to notice. And the second is that they always travel with a male companion; a prince to keep them safe. You, my dear Lady, fit both criteria wouldn't you say?'

'Besides, the Bounty would not have brought you here if they didn't think that you were a real princess,' said another.

'And just who are the "Bounty"?' she asked.

The trolls seemed to share a sense of amusement?

'We are the Bounty!'

'It's more of an image thing really,' said one, 'we've been spreading rumours for years. All about shadowed creatures roaming the land, taking anyone they dare... never to be seen again.'

'And should a brave knight foolishly come to their rescue,' began the next, 'only the fate of a thousand terrible souls would await them.'

'It works a charm every time,' added the last, 'so you can forget about your prince charming. But don't worry... we took good care of him for you.'

'Aye, he fetched a fair price I must say,' said one of the other trolls, tossing a small coin bag with his hand, 'quite the short time investment, eh?'

'Zack,' feared Suzan, 'what have you done with him?'

'Never you mind mill Lady' he continued, 'we'll soon have your ransom demanded ready. In the meantime, you just sit tight and think about where you want us to send it – or where you'd like to end up?'

The thing about trolls was that they always received their ransom. The calculations of which were based on value of cargo, location and current market price. Unfortunately, you could never really count on such an asset materialising beyond the paper of deed.

Suzan fell back in her cage. This was not good, not good at all.

Cara struggled in convincing the lock to open. But suddenly, in the midpoint of the room a trapdoor popped up. Suspiciously, five dwarves raised their heads above ground?

'I mean seriously, could this day get any worse?' she said with surprise, 'I just knew this kid would be trouble?'

The chief dwarf climbed to the forefront, 'you will have to forgive our untimely intrusion. I am Droc son of Oric, Chief of our party and founder of our schemes – with due respect to the Dwarven Council and their generous funding, I must add.' He cleared his throat nervously before continuing, 'we, Madam, are on what you might call a covert mission so to speak.' Promptly his mighty fellows stepped forward, 'this is Airtu son of Airmit our mapmaker. Samif son of Tams our thief and appointed mentor to, Earru son of Sorc. And last but by no means least, Morku son of Tork, our locksmith. These are my companions, and of course... the bravest warriors chosen of our land.'

'We have come here with the intentions of reclaiming this castle and all its riches on behalf of our forefathers',' added Airtu, 'of course we must slay a dragon to achieve such a task first.' He looked from side to side, 'you haven't seen one around here lately, have you?'

Cara shrugged, 'no, I don't think so...?' she said bemusedly.

The dwarves sighed with relief, 'oh thank the Gods for that,' said Droc, 'it was really more of a minor detail that we were hoping to avoid. You know dragons, fire, devilish foe and all that. Apparently, they can be quite a handful so they say?'

'And you, Madam,' asked Samif son of Tams, 'why might you be here, if I may ask?'

'Oh you know, same old, same old,' began Cara, 'one day the world is your oyster, next you're trying escape a dark fortress while helping some kid to find a "princess".' She waved of her hand, feeling a bit flustered, 'stubborn lock, I'm afraid that it's got me all hot and bothered.'

The dwarves glance at the lock.

'What, you'd swear you'd never seen a luoc' before? Tis that or you'd be wonderin' if ah'd be wearin' anythin' under me wee kilt!' it yelled, 'get lost, you'll not be gettin' me to open!'

For a moment they wondered if it was trying to communicate?

Nevertheless, there it grumbled and swung for all to see. Strangely, it bore a great resemblance to an old fashion lock, in a sort of sculpted modern art piece way that is. A 17th century Scottish Highlander, formed of some skewed–like jigsaw puzzle with each segment placed quite abnormally. And much like its self, it seemed to be a complete rebellion against logic?

They would have to tread carefully.

'Oh dear, it's a Magical Lock,' claimed Morku.

'You don't say?!' remarked the Magical Lock.

'See what I mean?' said Cara, 'And after all the trouble I went through to get these keys?'

'Oh no, Madam, you don't use a key with a Magical Lock,' replied Morku, 'you have to befriend them; that's how it works.'

'Well aren't you the smart one, statin' the obvious,' it said, 'ah'm not too hard of hearin' you know...get lost, you'll not be befriendin' me!'

'That fool's myth about befriending a Magical Lock; I mean, who ever heard of such nonsense?' mocked Samif son of Tams, 'the only reason someone would put one of those wretched things onto anything, is to keep something of great value safe from harm.'

'Which begs the question?' said Droc with interest, 'A person I believe you said?'

'Yeah, yeah, Kid, Princess – taken to some Falls – needs rescuing,' mumbled Cara unmindfully while fussing with the Magical Lock, 'seriously, what are the odds of a talking lock?'

Quickly, Droc huddled his might fellows to the side, 'if we help rescue this princess,' he said rather excitedly, 'the reward for such would be far greater than our current scheme?'

'But what about reclaiming our forefather's castle?' asked Earru.

'That's just pep–talk really,' he replied innocently, 'overcome, adapted, improvise and all that? No, a quest such as this could put us in the big–time. No more giant spiders trying to eat us. No more endless adventures with nothing to show for it. One rescue mission and our days as common folk are over. Besides, this way we would certainly avoid any encounter with a dragon while, I might add... reaping the rewards nonetheless – How hard could it be?'

When it came to the mention of a "princess" this misunderstanding business was starting to become contagious?

Cara seemed innocently unaware.

'All agreed...?'

'Hear! Hear!'

It was settled.

'My equally companion and most fair lady,' began Droc politely, 'upon your great scheme you will be in need of many a fellow who is brave and strong. So if I may, my fellows and I would like to offer our skills, of which, we will retain the wrights to fifty per cent of all riches incurred throughout your quest, naturally. But of course, only if you would be so kind as to do us the honour in accepting?' Airtu speciously nudging his side, 'oh and... dental care,' he added embarrassingly, 'you can't be too careful these days, eh?'

'I'll make you a deal,' replied Cara, 'if you can get this lock to open... it's all yours.'

'You could try some kind of negotiation?' suggested Morku, 'It may help?'

'Great, this is what my colourful career has been reduced to; mediation with the local freak show?' she moaned before turning her attention back to the Magical Lock, 'okay, Mister, how do you want to play this? And make it snappy before I call in the big guns, understand?'

The dwarves did their best to look menacing. It wasn't really impressive.

'Ach, so you want to forge terms and conditions do you now wee lassie,' said the Magical Lock, 'you'll not take such tone with me so easily I can tell you.'

'Why you little...'

'Perhaps you may allow me?' interrupted Morku, feeling the need to step in. 'If you were to help my associate here,' he said, 'then maybe there might be something that we could do for you, in order to bring about a more peaceful resolution?'

'Well...' thought the Magical Lock for a moment, 'there maybe one wee favour you could do for me?'

'Of course...'

'And a'd hold you to your word forevermore?'

'Should your allegiance be true, naturally?'

'Ach, well it's me clan,' it began, 'I'll not say what they've done, but they've only gone and got them wee selves into a bit of bother, aye. I need to find them, but if you help me then I'll help you... Take it or leave it, but that's the wee hand and let no papers pass through it, aye.'

'What kind of trouble,' he asked, 'surely I must know?'

'Ach you know,' it began awkwardly, 'this an' that – they cannot help it – but not a mark compared to your wee friend; he's in a right jam he is.'

Morku looked for Cara's approval, 'do we have a choice?' she asked unwillingly. The truth seemed slim. 'Fine, but I'm putting myself out on a limb here; Never work with animals; Never work it kids, and most definitely never, ever, work with Magical Locks. Forget the empire, this could spell the end for me right here?'

'Ach, good lassie for it's agreed!' said the Magical Lock with delight, jumping to the ground with arms and legs sprouting from its sides, 'now, give me a wee hand to open this door.'

'Well don't just stand there,' yelled Cara, 'get a move on!'

Swiftly, the dwarves jumped into action, lifting a large wooden beam which ran the length of the doorway before pushing in the cell door. Slowly it swung into the darkness as Zack stepped into the light.

'What took you so long,' he asked, 'and who are these people?'

'Hey, this is what happens when you make a crazy wish,' she replied, 'before you know it you've got one fairy, five unwitting heroes and some skirt wearing freak for company.' With not a moment to lose, she eyed the near passageway, 'come on... let's just get out of here before someone comes back.'

In truth what could Zack really do? For now he would play his part, at least until he could find Suzan.

Promptly, Morku reached for the trapdoor. However, its handle seemed to be located on the underside? While under the displeased gaze of Cara, Droc shook his head with embarrassment.

To be fair, he never said that he was good at his job... it was just that the subject never came up.

Chapter 6

A Kiss is but a Kiss

The Dark Lord of Rock Fall Castle, King Evil, was a frog. Yes, the type of frog with a shiny gold crown and a silly red cape. The type of frog, who magically turns into a handsome prince when kissed by a princess – Therein lies the problem...

"CALLING ALL NOBLE MEN, KNIGHTS AND BRAVE CHAMPIONS – EVEN REPLUSIVE HAIRY WOODS MEN WIELDING GIGANTIC AXES TO MAKE UP FOR THEIR SHORTAGE OF MANHOOD. ARE YOU UNDER–PAID, OVERWORKED, NO HEALTH CARE OR DENTAL BENEFITS? ARE YOU LEFT WITH A GENERAL FEELING OF NOT BEING APPRECIATED? DOES YOUR EMPLOYER CONSISTENTLY FAIL TO NOTICE YOUR TRUE POTENTIAL? DOES YOUR WIFE NAG YOU DAY IN AND DAY OUT OVER LONG HOURS SPENT IN THE OFFICE? ARE YOU LONGING FOR A CAREER CHANGE, OR JUST IN DIRE NEED OF A NEW CHALLENGE THAT WILL MATCH YOUR OVER RESTED WITS? THEN SEEK NO FURTHER BECAUSE...UNCLE TAM WANTS YOU! DUE TO UNFORESEEN CIRCUMSTANCES, A PRINCESS – PROFILE PICTURED ON DAILY MILK CARTON'S AT ALL GOOD GROCERY STORES NEAR YOU – HAS MYSTERIOUSLY APPEARED? AND YES, THAT'S RIGHT; UNCLE TAM WANTS YOU TO FIND HER. SO WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, GET EXCITED ABOUT YOUR QUEST TODAY!

LO–CALL: 555–UNCLE TAM WANTS YOU OR EMAIL: MANDATORY.SOM

REWARD OFFERED UPON HER SAFE CAPTURE. TERMS AND CONDITIONS APPLY. ENLISTMENT IS MANDATORY. FAILURE TO DO SO IS DEEMED PUNISHABLE BY DEATH."

This was his Majesty's advertisement posted in the recruitment section of Tomorrows World. He had to admit, it did have a certain wide appeal to it. However, his faithful butler – an orc dressed in the appropriate attire – wasn't so sure?

'Forgive me for asking, your Majesty,' he said, 'but how exactly does this plan of yours work?'

'Ah, the question that has no doubt been weighing on everyone's mind?' replied King Evil with a cunning sense of delight, 'It's quite simply devilish. Possibly the most devilish plan ever devised, since God kicked Adam and Eve out of the Garden of Eden for fear of future child maintenance, saying; "Thou should fend for thou self...now shod off!"'

'Very good, your Majesty.'

'In order to fulfil my destiny and rule the Kingdom,' he continued, 'I must rid myself of this ghastly spell by returning to my true self; A curse given to me by the greatest problem ever known to man, since sliced bread became un–sliced... the ex–wife.'

'Ah, the Dark Witch I surmise, your Majesty?'

'Oh yes, she was dark alright, in more ways than one I can tell you,' he replied, 'and ever since I've been longing for a good old fashion kiss.'

'A kiss, your Majesty?'

'When it comes to fairytale spells, there's only one thing that you can count on; particularly, when you happen to be a frog,' he stated, 'a kiss... a kiss from a princess.'

'But you're not exactly the kind of prince charming associated with such fairytales, are you, your Majesty,' replied his faithful butler, 'being evil and all?'

'Ha, the goody prince charming trick... please,' said King Evil with distaste, 'why waste years waiting for the perfect prince, when after all; a kiss is but a kiss.'

'How so, your Majesty?'

'Remove prince charming from the picture and all one needs is a candlelit dinner, some romantic melody and the whisper of sweet nothings over a glass of vintage wine,' suggested King Evil, 'And should all else fail you in your time of need... the old trusted dagger wedged to her side should just about do the trick!'

'Well put your Majesty, I would never have figured you as the romantic type,' said his butler, 'It seems that all you need now is a princess?'

'Hence this morning's advertisement,' he boldly claimed, 'word is spreading across the land about the mysterious return of a princess? And if I am to succeed in ruling this kingdom once and for all, she must be found and brought to me at once!'

'But how do we find her, your Majesty,' asked his butler, 'it has been long since such true nobility has walk among us. Many rebels are sure to aid her, and should her true prince charming find her first, well?'

'That is why I must assume his identity,' replied King Evil, 'thus insuring that the spoils of victor lie solely with me.'

'Excellent, your Majesty,' replied his butler with admiration for such a daring plan, 'and the real prince charming, how should we insure that he does not get in the way, so to speak?'

'As luck would have it, thanks to a few dim–witted trolls he is safely secured in my dungeon, never to see the light of day again,' replied King Evil happily, 'the rest as they say, is simply poetry in motion.'

'Those trolls, eh... go figure,' began his butler nervously, 'about that, the thing is...'

'You think the milk cartons are too much?' interrupted his Majesty unmindfully, 'Personally, I thought that the question mark was a nice touch?'

'You could say it's a questionable matter, yes...'

'It's the film crew, isn't it,' he asked, 'a little bit too distracting?'

Yes, in the shadows stood the technical skills of a small film crew. Strangely, they seemed more puzzled than his butler did?

And... cue his Majesty!

'One word and an abbreviation, "Reality TV!"' said King Evil proudly, 'I'm making a behind the scene, "Rise to World Domination Documentary". The P.R department said it would be good for the morale of my soon to be – willing or not – loyal subjects.' He eyed his webbed fingers comfortably, 'a few good ratings and who knows, we might even go HD?'

'Very impressive, your Majesty,' replied his butler, 'but about those trolls... there may be one slight inconvenience to your plan?'

'Now what,' he asked, 'and before you answer, know that unless you're looking for a beheaded–nation, this better be pretty damn good?'

'Er, I have just received urgent news that maybe somewhat discomforting?'

Ironically, at the time he had no idea that he would be referring to himself.

'Somewhat discomforting you say?' repeated his Majesty curiously.

'If I may,' began his faithful butler while unravelling a scroll before him, 'Find Love on Wings; we are delighted to inform you of a recent match profile...' He cleared his throat rather embarrassingly, 'Sorry, your Majesty, wrong message?' He tried again, 'the trolls purchase; one human child – AKA the suspected Prince Charming – has escaped. Apparently, with the aid of a troublesome fairy – a one Cara of the Celtic Meadows I believe, your Majesty?'

'What?!' jolted his Majesty with surprise, 'Why wasn't I informed about this immediately?'

'I was just waiting for the right opportunity, your Majesty. The guards have been searching the castle with complete unrest,' explained his faithful butler, 'But if it pleases his Majesty, I have taken the liberty of recruiting some particular professionals. The kind of professionals whom, shall we say, have acquired skills should they escaped the grounds.'

'I want this matter cleared up at once; he cannot be allowed to roam free,' commanded King Evil, 'If he manages to find the princess before I, then all could be lost?!'

'But of course, your Majesty,' replied the butler swiftly, 'and the fairy...?'

'Yes, some melding fool trying to prove something to the world no doubt,' surmised King Evil, 'just who is she anyway?'

'An actress... apparently?'

'Is she on our payroll?' he asked.

'In a matter of speaking...'

'What about a permit?'

'I don't believe so,' confirmed his butler, 'a mere prisoner held in the dungeon until we could figure out what to do with her credit limitations, your Majesty.'

King Evil gave him an oddly gaze, 'so what in fact you're actually telling me is that, she too, has somehow escaped from my supposedly secure dungeon; right beneath the noises of my supposedly vigilant guards... without a permit?'

The thought was embarrassing, a little too embarrassing.

'In so many words...?'

'Just typical – one extremely hot vindaloo, an embarrassing bathroom break with dodgy intermission music, and my whole world comes crashing down?' moaned King Evil with displease, 'Search the castle high and low and leave no stone unturned. Whoever she is; where ever they are; I want them found...I must have that kiss!'

Many orcs rushed throughout the halls of Rock Fall Castle. Apparently a prisoner had escaped. But more importantly, their accomplice failed to produce the proper paperwork necessary for a practicing permit. This had left the dwarves in a peculiar position. They needed to find a rather swift route of escape, and it seemed that an old mineshaft held the answer?

With options few, Zack and his new found companions slipped into a mine cart, hoping to stowaway unnoticed. Easily now it began to roll, its wheels squeaking as momentum slowly began to build. Behind, a supposedly vigilant group of orcs where blindly unaware of their daring escape... When suddenly the cart plunged into a vertical fall with many a squeamish cry drifting a far?!

The orcs shook with surprise, vaulting into the nearest cart in hot pursuit.

'Look alive people, we've got company!' yelled Morku.

'Perfect, that's all we need right now,' moaned Cara, noting the orc cart swiftly trailing behind, 'I told you that we should have asked for directions. But no, a sister never gets some R. E. S. P. E. C. T around here.'

'They're gaining on us,' said Zack, 'we need to do something?'

'There's no need to be so pushy, kid,' she replied, 'I'm thinking, I'm thinking...?'

'Suggestions anyone?' asked Droc nervously.

'Quick, find something that we could use to jam their wheels with...cause them to crash!'

'Good thinking, Earru,' he replied, 'but what?'

'You just let me worry about that,' insisted Cara, urging Droc to keep his eyes on the track, 'and use the brakes would you, we don't want to derail ourselves with one of those tight turns!'

She had a point; after all, what else were they for?

And so Droc son of Oric did pull with all his might upon an old lever before him. The track line crossing and looping; the cart tipping to one side, desperately trying to balance as sparks flew with the grind of metal...Crack!

Suddenly, the screeching of brakes came to an end?

Droc gazed awkwardly at a length of stick in his hand. You couldn't quite call it a brake lever anymore.

'I'm afraid that the brakes are not an option,' he confessed, 'however, on the bright side we seem to have found something to jam their wheels with?'

Well, at least it was a start.

It was the usual check point control for patrol–orc Officers Thomson and Travis. Speed gun at the ready, they held up in the preferred parking bay of choice along route 66–6.

All seem quiet...Zoom!

The clock was off the scale? A 205 in a 30 zone was pushing it for this renegade track user. But all it would take was one flashing blue light and the swift disposal of coffee cups later...and the chase was on! These crooks were in for a big surprise if they thought that they were going to get away with it that easily. Not with the long arm of repression hot on their tail. Not when you cross the county–line of this town. Not as long as the local enforcers have anything to say about it.

'Would you just throw it...we don't have time for this!' yelled Cara franticly.

'Give me a break, would you?' said Droc while fumbling about with the broken lever, trying now to aim it at the wheels of the trailing cart of orcs, 'it's a lot harder than it looks, okay!'

'Now you listen here dwarf–man,' she insisted, 'something's going over that edge... one way or the other, understand?'

'Whatever you do just don't drop it!' yelled Samif son of Tams.

'Of course I'm not going to...'

The sound of metal made little attempt to hide its demise?

Droc cleared his throat, remaining innocently cool. Nobody could prove a thing – 'I don't believe it?!' – except her.

'Just great,' moaned Samif, taking it now upon himself to climb over the front of the cart in hope of slowing it down.

'What are you doing?' asked Zack.

'Someone's got to do something before it's too late kid,' he replied, taking hold of the headlight while pressing his foot firm against the brake pad, sighting a lever upon the line just ahead, 'If we could manage to slow ourselves down, we just might be able to switch tracks; buy us some time?'

Crack?!

Having a danger sign stuck to his backside wasn't quiet what he had in mind?

But again he did press his foot down hard, a rain of spark lighting the shadows of the mine. And the lever came swift, Zack leaning out with want to snatch it firmly. This was it, their only hope. The orcs were gaining ground. The lever was soon at hand. On Samif's mark Zack reach out as far as he could, the Magical Lock racing down the length of his arm to aid his effort.

They missed... the line dropped vertically once more!

'Get out the rope boys, we'll have fresh meat yet!' roared an orc, 'Prepare to board, let them taste the cold edge of steel!'

And so forth did they draw a length of thick rope, the crude form of hook upon its tip glinting eagerly in its wait. Through the air it did fall, passing over Zack and Droc son of Oric; skimming across Airtu son of Airmit before fumbling through the hands of Morku who tried in vain to catch it. And down it came, across the shoulders of Earru, landing loosely in–between the dangling legs of poor Samif son of Tams?

No prompt expression was required... the sign said it all!

Swiftly the line tightened, hooking firmly into place as Samif's eyes crossed with discomfort – Was that a blue light flashing in the near distance? – However, there was little time for capture. Ahead the track line weaved into two, lapping one another like strands of rope and venturing deep into the darkness of a narrow tunnel. And upon its earth walls did wait many stone figures; Serpents coated of wed and dust with sights ever watchful to lowered jaws of darkened deceit. And many darts filled the air leaving only trails of dust to mark their flight, the carts unforgiving as they swirled helplessly about one another to the rushing flow of track.

Samif needed to rethink his plan. Metaphorically speaking, it was riddled with holes!

Emerging from the terror of darkness, to their side – upon another track line – the rage of a siren and flashing light gave cue to Officer Thomson and Travis...the county line enforcement!

Promptly, they jump into the line of duty.

'I hereby order those of you intent on exercising acts seen to be of a disorderly behaviour, to pull your vehicle over,' said Officer Thomson, shinning his searchlight across the ever moving crime scene, 'You boy, on the front with the sideburns...let me see that there permit for hood jumping, nice and slow like!'

'I think we should pull over?!' said Droc son of Oric unsurely, the cart now bumper–to–bumper with the trailing orcs; hands and feet forcing their way aboard.

'Let's take a crazy roller coaster ride to the extreme!' cried Cara, before proceeding to beat a rather large and quite gruesome toe with a strip of splintered wood, 'I mean, seriously... whose stupid idea was this?'

'She seems to be taking it well,' remarked Morku, held upside down by a large hand, Airtu son of Airmit trying to aid him from capture – 'Would you get your butt out of my face!' – Well to be honest, what else could he say?

'The use of deadly force has been authorized...you will comply!' continued Officer Thomson, drifting his searchlight back now toward his fellow comrades, adding, 'Move along folks, there ain't nothing to see here!'

It was standard procedure.

But on and on the carts would bashed back and forth, held to the mere will of the track line as it began now to rush passed a deathly river of magma far below.

'What are you, some kind of hard to hear fool?' yelled Officer Thomson once more, pointing to his squad siren wailing throughout the air, 'This here stationary warning device tells you best to pull over!' He turned sharply to his partner, 'Why Travis I don't think that they give a darn hoot what we say, boy?'

'That's it Serge, I'm calling it,' he replied, ducking a lantern that came swift overhead, 'it's time we get us some fine reinforcements!'

'Now you're talking my kind of language, boy,' agreed Officer Thomson, the track line seemingly drifting askew for a moment, 'they ain't never gonna know what hit them...'

Thud!

A siren drifted away to a sluggish ease? Apparently, judging from the remains, the county line had just run out.

Leaving Officer Thomson and Travis to their untimely demise, the chase continued. But there was little room for comfort. Increasingly the mineshaft began to narrow more and more to the flow of many a lantern rushing overhead. Samif unhooked the claw of danger embedded sharply in his sign, flinging both aside as he tried to climb back on board. And the orcs did lose ground and ahead the break of daylight did form. Though ill was its lure for end of line was to be its true call of warn. And a great shadow did grow in the near distance, the crushing of rock falling forth from edge of roof before all to see.

'Brace yourselves everyone,' said Airtu, 'things are about to get rocky!'

Cara on the other hand simply screamed. She felt it more to the point.

All eyes widened now, time favouring least of all those whom may need it most. And the line of end did near, a great fall of doom unwilling to ease upon the ever flow of rushing track, stubborn in its lay of course. And the edge of rock came sharp in form, scraping across the ends of cart with want to crush, though failing in its fastened grasp of rest.

The orcs, however... weren't so lucky!

Beyond the crush of rock, Zack and his companions plunged ever downward along a vast mountain slope. And the slope did turn steep and cunning in its path. And a far they could see a sickened sea raging in its might, pounding upon scattered rock, awash in its off–white beneath that of a crumbling cliff face.

There was nowhere else that they could go. There was no way of stopping. There was no other path nor choice... but that of the sea.

Down they did plunge!

Chapter 7

A Thieves Paradise

Zack woke to the sound of the ocean. Beneath a clear blue sky, he found himself lying upon the shoreline of a great white beach. The waves drifted back and forth, refreshing in their playfulness as he began to stir. He hopped that he had been dreaming. He hopped that Suzan was still by his side. But the Professor's crystal that he wore now about his chest told him differently – he wasn't dreaming.

Gently Zack sat up, breathing in the fresh air while eyeing the shoreline up and down. Under the warmth of the sun it seemed to stretch forever onward. And though it was beautiful, he could tell that Cara had something else on her mind as the remains of the mine cart washed ashore beside him?

'Magical Lock!' she called with a sense of urgency.

'Ach aye, Madam?' it swiftly answered.

'Salvage what you can – essentials only – we're moving out on the double!' she commanded before turning her attention back to Zack, 'let's get a move on kid; we can't just sit here all day. With a bit of luck we just might make it inland before we're seen?'

'Seen...' he asked unsurely, 'seen by whom?'

'Ach, privies,' replied the Magical Lock, 'wee blade wayin', pistol lovin' privies.'

'Privies...?'

'You said it kid, pirates,' said Cara, 'the horizon seems clear for the moment. I think we're good for now, but who knows how long we've got?'

'But where are the dwaves?' asked Zack, noticing now that they were nowhere to be seen, 'We can't just leave without them – I need their help to find Suzie?'

'Thanks for the vote of confidence kid,' replied Cara, 'but it's a miracle that we managed to survive, let alone get washed up here. And if we are where I think we are – a textbook thieves paradise surrounded by pirate invested water – it won't take the dwarves long before they decide to move inland too.'

'Are you sure?'

'Sure I'm sure,' she replied innocently, 'they've probably just found themselves lost on some other part of this island, wondering where in the world we are. All we have to do is keep heading as straight as the crow flies. A couple of fresh coco nuts and some classic vine swinging moments later, we'll be home free; Just me, you and the five amigos on a world–winning adventure. What could possibly go wrong?'

'That's what I'm afraid of...' thought Zack, feeling that he had little choice but to follow.

Not so far off the shoreline, upon the swaying wave–like motion of a wooded beam, sat a rather slim–line gull. It squatted across from its resting place to make way for another not so slim–lined gull – Squawk! – He should have moved quicker.

'Hey, Harry.'

'Hey, Larry.'

'So... what's up mate?'

'Just hanging around as "per–norm" – You?'

'Same old, same old mate; you know how it is.'

'So... how's Barry doing these days, eh?'

'Fine mate, just fine – Had a chat with Marry and Terry down at the old shoreline. Terry says some gal's just washed up on the beach; classy type, real doll face too so he says.'

'Oh yeah, what's the wife think about that?'

'With a bit of the right seasoning... she could be tasty.'

'Speaking of wives; how's yours these days?'

'Oh fine mate – You?'

'Oh you know Sally, always getting her feathers in a rough over some people washed up on the far side,' said Larry disinterestedly, 'Not very hygienic – How they are always leave a mess – Must have been out there in the good old deep blue for a while, and all that?'

'Yeah,' replied Harry curiously, 'why is that then mate?'

'Well it's because they're in need of a good old shave – sideburns and all – ain't it?' surmised Larry, 'If I have to listen to her go on about that kind of thing again, you may as well just sweep me up and leave me to a foreign land I should think.'

'Five bucks says they try to make it inland.'

'They always try... poor buggers.'

The moment fell quiet. It was as though they were reflecting on the demise of those whom have foolishly come before.

'So, what's with the flag?' asked Larry finally.

'Just trying to keep the wind off my back mate,' replied Harry stiffly, 'but it doesn't help much; being full of holes and all?'

'I'll say... it doesn't even have a good design,' replied Larry in dismay, 'I mean, who in their right mind would go along and put a white skull and bones on a black background anyway?'

'Should have been the other way round if you ask me – catch the eye more.'

'You said it, mate,' agreed Larry, 'though I wonder what Ltd stands for?'

'Lucrative Trading Destinations?' tried Harry.

They shrugged their wings. Around here, anything was possible.

Far below from where the gulls sat, beyond tattered sails and sea worn ropes, stood the bulky shadow of robotic figure? As the figure eyed the shoreline through the use of a spyglass, to its side a crisp wind rippled across the torn surface of a small company flag; the ever so elusive Shiver Me Timber Ship Mates & Co Ltd.

With a number of squeaky clicks, it swept the spyglass to one side, 'ah me hearties... what say you to a fine traditional bit of wee land lovers activities this fair morn, eh?'

After all, thought Captain Wide Front Silver, things were shaping up to be quite the good day's work at the office.

'Curse this wretched jungle,' grumbled Samif, 'fools soaked to the bone wondering aimlessly about, that's what we are – lost to all sense of direction?' He brushed by a branch – smack! – Earru never seen it coming. 'Oh aye and I'm hungry too!' he continued unmindfully, 'what I wouldn't give for some smoked pork, a warm open fire and the sweet watering taste of a good hot stew.' – Snap! – Suspiciously, Airtu son of Airmit seemed to be having trouble keeping his balances? 'Would you ever quit fooling around back there,' he said, a loaded branch nervously twitching at the ready, 'Honestly, you just can't take you two anywhere but you're always – snap! – falling behind.'

You didn't need to picture the outcome... it was heard quite clearly.

'Keep moving, we can't afforded to slow down,' said Droc son of Oric, 'if I'm right the others should be moving inland, a way out of ill sight from the watchful sea.'

'You mean Pirates,' said Samif.

'Precisely, no doubt Cara will insist upon it – luckily for us.'

'Poor kid.'

'Naturally, it would be somewhat wise to make for the nearest trail,' he continued, 'if we cut east of here we should make contacted by nightfall – If we survive that long?'

'How do we know that we'll find them?' asked Airtu while rubbing his nose in some irritated manner, his voice seeming squeaky.

'What happened to you?' asked Droc, startled somewhat by his shook looking appearance.

'Allergies chief,' said Samif, 'they're all coming down with it?'

'I got hit by a branch,' he corrected.

'Eh?'

'He said it feels like he got hit with a branch... I think?' tried Samif innocently.

'It's a nasty one, isn't it?' thought Droc.

'Aye, chief, I feel a little bit under the weather myself,' agreed Samif, 'may even have a bit of whiplash too?'

'Never mind,' said Airtu, 'I was simply saying that we could be wasting our time – they might not have made it to shore?'

'Yes of course,' replied Droc son of Oric, 'well, it's a thick jungle, full of... things, you know?' His eyes shifted nervously from side to side, 'and well, whether or not they've made it... we still have to find a blooming way out of here?'

They had to admit, he did have a point. However, their fearless leader seemed a little edgy? Something was clearly amiss, and they were keen to find out why.

'Okay, what's the matter with you,' asked Morku, 'you've been acting a bit strange lately?'

'Who me – why nothing, I'm just eager to find the others that's all,' he replied innocently, 'you know, rescue a princess – a vast reward – give a ghastly dragon a good old trashing if I ever see one!'

'Morku's right,' agreed Airtu, 'are you sure that there isn't something you're not telling us?'

'Of course I'm sure,' he swiftly replied, 'why I'm your fearless leader – Chief – Chair of Deeds and equal warrior among trusted companions; Why in all my years I have never felt more alive?!'

'It's just that you seem a bit edgy,' tried Earru, 'almost... fearful?'

'There is absolutely nothing to be worried about my mighty fellows,' he insisted, 'now, enough of this talk and let us brave forth like a vast army, unyielding in our noble deeds.'

As they continued, a gentle breeze swept throughout the jungle's path. In its timely flow it did reveal a stone hidden partly by layers of earthly foliage. Its surface bore the markings of a small tribe of stickmen, dancing wildly it seemed, around a giant pod–like plant?

And so with such darkly a warning, it is customary to pay heed. But unfortunately for the dwarves, they failed to see it.

Meanwhile, King Evil's advertisement was the subject of a rather overwhelming response...

A vast army of knights, brave champions – even repulsive hairy woods men wielding gigantic axes to make up for their shortage of manhood – swarmed from their distant lands. Daring the highest mountains and valleys far below, they pressed on relentlessly, unyielding to foe or dire weather cast forth from the most despiteful of ill Gods. Uniting in force, they stood their ground by the thousands. Tail and mighty, a wall of indestructible defiance, they marched forward before the boundary's of a vast jungle. And drums of war did soar as pace gained ground. Amid the deafening cries of courage many a weapon was now drawn, for lay siege upon this wild land would they... Abruptly, they halted to the sound of a vinyl record screeching?!

A voice yelled out from somewhere of near – possibly third row, next to a Scottish Gnome wearing blue and white face paint and sporting a fashionable Courage Hart t–shirt – 'Isn't this that place where, you know... the natives, are?' it asked.

Of course the word "natives" was used with extreme caution.

With that, sent forth amongst all were whispers like endless waves amongst the sea. And many a brave fellow spoke words of "Ah, shod this!" and "I'm going home!" or "I rather take my chances with the compulsory death penalty than set foot in there with... them."

Thus... it was time for a new advertising campaign!

Suzan fell back in her cage. Lost in thoughts of Zack and what may have become of him, hope seemed little?

'Ach, don't you worry wee lassie,' said a strange voice, 'they know only too well that you're not a princess. Ach, they just need people to believe you are to get a wee ransom; that's how it works.'

She glanced over her shoulder, noticing a smaller cage not so far off in the distance. To her surprising disbelief, a small clan of Magical Locks gazed awkwardly in her direction?

'This world is just full of surprises, isn't it?' she replied, 'do you mean that I am being used as some kind of bait?'

'Oh aye, lassie, they spread the word an' fools come payin',' replied one, 'real nobles are few in these parts, so they choose a female with a lone companion. It makes it more believable when word gets about. The longer you're here the more you'll start to believe it yourself; ain't that right lads?'

'Aye, wee captive syndrome, lassie,' said the rest.

'Such an offer like that would be hard to pass,' it continued, 'that's how we ended up here.'

'You tried to pay a ransom?'

'Oh noo, lassie, we came rescuing,' it replied confidently, 'only the wee lass before you wasn't the co–operative type.'

'What happened?'

'Let's just say that we ended up here and they found you to take her place.'

'Can you help me get out of here?'

'Ach crivens sorry, noo' can do,' it said, 'we'd like to help but even if we could, it would take some swayin' of this wee cage to reach you. We'll not get away with tha' too easily ah can tell you. Besides, that would only be the beginning of your problems in getting out of here.'

'You mean those Trolls?'

'Ach, noo, Trolls we can handle noo prob,' it replied while leaning closer, 'it's the beast in the shadows. The wee bugger never snoozes – a handful too – you'll not go far with that devilish fiend hanging about. Ach, but don't get me wrong lassie,' it continued, 'we'd like to try and help you but it's too big of a wee puppy, aye? – Er, very playful, very naughty; we'd never manage it alone.'

She didn't seem convinced – Ach wee crivens! – They had a wee fright.

'Surely there must be someone who can help me,' she said in disbelief, 'there must be another way out; another cave perhaps?'

'Noo, I'll not lie... your wee chances are slim to none lassie,' said another lock, 'best stay put for now ah'd say. Aye you'd want a wee earthquake to find another way oo't of here.'

'Ach, maybe the ransom will be paid... crivens!'

Some people never know when to stay quiet. They need a good old nudge, so to speak, in the right direction.

'I don't believe this,' moaned Suzan, knowingly rattling the iron of her cage in vain, 'if I'm a princess, then where's a knight in shining armour when you need one?'

Where indeed?

For a time the dwarves did venture far, deep into the heart of the jungle's growth. More and more the behaviour of their chief seemed strange, as though he alone knew of a dark secret that lay in wait. It may have had something to do with a stealthily figure that now followed their every move?

Out from the shadows a pair of red glimmering eyes set firmly upon them. Indeed, the more the dwarves unknowingly ventured, the more they awakened many sights.

When suddenly...Ouch!

'Something just bit me,' yelled Samif, 'right on the nose too?!'

'Oh boy, please tell me it was a mosquito bite,' panicked Droc son of Oric, 'please–please–please let it be a mosquito bite?'

'There seems to be something sticking out of your nose?' said Airtu, stepping forward for a closer look, 'It looks like a dart; an almost tiny dart made of candy?'

Droc cringed. He may even have just turned pale.

'Candy?!' Samif plucked the dart from the bridge of his nose, chewing it thoroughly with an assortment of temperamental expressions, 'Ach... black lickerish?!' He spat it out unmannerly.

'Oh no, they've found us!' yelled Droc, 'Quick you fools, run... run for your life's!'

'Who has found us?' asked his mighty fellows.

'Natives,' he simply replied, 'run I tell you; run like the wind!'

'You don't mean...?' they asked hesitantly.

'Yes,' he cried aloud, 'who else would be wielding lickerish weapons of miniature destruction in a tropical jungle?!'

Instantly, a grave expression grasped hold of his mighty fellows. Apparently, those in question had earned themselves what you might call a reputation. Though surprisingly, no one had ever survived to say what they may have earned it for?

Ouch! – Airtu, hopped about while holding his backside?

Lickerish candy was proving to be a dangerous business.

Suddenly, it rained of a thousand darts. Forced into a rigid huddle, the dwarves soon found themselves with their backs pinned against a tree of soaring height. But just as swift as it rained, there came now a strange ease? And not a sound could be heard, except for the eerie rustle of bush or the odd creak of branch overhead?

'The first one of those wretched scamps you see,' began Samif, reaching for his war–hammer, 'let them have it...understood?'

And the rustling of bush came once more?

'Wait for it...'

The creaking of branch?

'Wait for it...'

The bushes to the left?

'Steady...'

The right?

'I said steady...'

Leaves falling to the ground as a pair of faint glimmering eyes vanished overhead?

'And... now!' he cried

Snap?!

A swift coil of vine, camouflaged within the jungle's earth, tightened to a mighty snap. All eyes shifted in puzzlement as they keenly followed its path. It ran right between their legs? It ran up the tree? It disappeared sharply into the canopy high above? Instinctively, they looked down, a large trap–net springing up from the earth to the spread of covered leaves!

Promptly, the dwarves ascended through the air.

They had no choice.

Chapter 8

Trouble with the Natives

When taken captive by a native tribe, as a reluctant guest of honour you can expect to take part in the usual barbecue outing. Bound to bamboo cane – a specialized human skewer so to speak – except nothing less than a decorative presentation of fruit and vege placed upon either side. Some seasonal salting and a well placed fire beneath your rear–end is essential. Blowing heavy breaths in a feeble bid to extinguish its flames is to be considered polite. And if desired, wiggle dramatically in an attempt to skip the main course for those of a more acquired taste. Take time to acquaint one's self with local custom were appropriate. Note – useful hints and tips can be found in the Tropics Trip Adviser booklet provided.

'What to do in a Hostage Situation – First Protocol,' quoted Morku, 'in a clear and courageous tone simply yell... Help!"'

When concerning traditional delicacies, seek reputable advice...

Tombstone

Here Lies

Jack Shunpaul

World Renowned Food Critic

"With exception to my current circumstances... simply marvellous!"

Bickering amongst each other is the key to the common conversationalist.

'You know, if I'm not mistaken,' moaned Earru, 'this isn't the first time that something has tried to eat us under your leadership.'

'Why that's just simply outrageous!' replied Droc bitterly. And finally – secure in the comfort of your restraints – sit back and enjoy listening to various war–cries and beating drums of doom, compliments of your host respectively.

It was fair to say that the dwarves had found themselves in somewhat of a pickle. They had to admit, being taken captive by the natives was rather embarrassing. For a tribe of primitive Gingerbread Cookie Men, they were surprisingly resourceful?

There they did dance in savagely ways for all to see. And the dwarves knew that it would only be a matter of time before this lavish entertainment would cease. It would only be a matter of time before a path would clear, announcing the arrival of some Godly King. Crowned of leaf, such a God would probably sit upon a throne made of cane. And upon such a time, they feared, a sacrifice was sure to be made. However, in their darkest hour, they hadn't expected it to be the Magical Lock?!

'Now you listen to me,' fumed Cara to its side, a ring of spearheads surrounding her, 'you tell these fruit biscuits to let me go right this instant. I ain't no sacrificial appetiser, you hear me?!'

The Magical Lock seemed confused. Until now, it had been quite unaware of its apparent godly powers?

'Straight as the crow flies – what could possible go wrong?' said Zack with displease, 'I'd just as soon take my chances with pirates than take your advice again.'

'Oh would you ever quit your whining,' she replied hastily, 'do I look like a tour guide to you; how was I supposed to know that something like this would happen?'

'You're alive?!' yelled Droc with hope in seeing them.

'Yeah, yeah, save your happy reunion for later,' said Cara, 'I think we've got more pressing issues at hand, don't you?'

'Ach, you let my friends go you wee little minx's!' tried the Magical Lock, waving its hands angrily as a dark warning to all whom would dare disobey.

And the moment fell quiet. Within the midpoint of camp a curtain of leaves did unveil a giant pod–like plant. There it stood with thoughts of unspoiled meat gleaming in its eyes, as several stork–like arms swayed uncontrollable with delight. And to its side lay a great pot of cooking's worth, filled with water, leaves and bone. Armed with one neatly folded napkin and some crude tongue relished eating utensils, it eagerly awaited the tribal leader's command.

'Ach, a'h said let them go!' tried the Magical Lock once more.

The leader tilted its head from side to side, probing the air with its spear for safeguard.

'Ach – cut – them – loose!'

After careful consideration, the tribe cheered to the sound of drums once more. Apparently, their sacrifice was accepted with open arms?!

Cue one Giant Fly Trap... and some slippery appetizers!

'The names T... Oh I'm going to eat you up all real nice and smooth like, yeah!' it said to the cheer of the tribe, 'Is there a doctor in the house, because I'm about to get me some indigestion... yeah baby, yeah!'

'Couldn't we just take a rain–check?!' yelled Cara, the natives hoping to present her as a salad dressing, 'I'm not even sure if I am a viable source of nutrition?'

'A bit more salt baby – mush obliged,' continued the Fly Trap, rubbing its forehead while trying to contain its excitement, 'go ahead, I don't bite... not that much, yeah!'

'Magical Lock you better do something?!' yelled Zack while being slowly lowered into the cooking pot with Cara.

'Ach, they'll not listen,' it replied worriedly, 'what can I do?'

To be honest, it wasn't the kind of divine intervention he was hoping for.

'I'm going to have me a little tenderness, yeah!' yelled the Fly Trap.

'Once again this is all your fault kid,' said Cara, the last remains of daylight fading to darkness as a great lid slid across overhead.

'My fault?' he asked, desperately trying to reach its rim, 'Just how is it my fault?'

'I told you that you shouldn't have made that wish. But no, you just wouldn't listen would you?' she replied, feeling a little hot under the collar, 'You just better hope that I don't end up on u–tube over this?'

Her career depended on it.

'We don't have time for this,' said Zack, 'come on think... there must be something we can do?'

'Here, try this,' thought Cara handing him a length of bone, 'maybe we can use it to smash our way out of here?'

Zack took the bone, pounding it repeatedly against the pot.

'No–no–no–not there,' she insisted, 'beneath the surface... use the pressure of the water beneath the surface!' He gave her an oddly gaze, 'hey, bones I can handle but cucumber...' she glanced down at the watery stew, 'strike the pose, a sister has got to draw the line somewhere?'

Reluctantly, Zack volunteered to slip beneath the surface. It was dark, the water beginning to become too warm to bear. And beyond, he could hear the cheer of natives and sound of drums before he was forced to rise for air. But again he tried to slip beneath the water, pushing from one end of the pot to the other, rocking it to the spill of water atop – when at last it did give way. And the pressure of water did build, lines of distress racing throughout its surface as the heat of fire grew beneath. And again he pushed from side to side, his breath failing with every moment that passed.

Boom... the pot shattered!

Chaos suddenly erupted throughout the camp, a wave of water washing over the festive atmosphere. It quenched the fires. It loosened the binds of captivity. It disposed of its unwanted cucumber... and two rather rude guests.

Swiftly, they made a run for it!

'Hey? – Hey? – Don't you dare make me run!' said the giant Fly Trap, 'this ain't no Livin' La Vida Loca, know what I'm saying?!' It didn't like fast food. 'Where's the manager at,' it yelled grumpily, 'the hell you're going to pawn me off with some cheap self–service crap?!' After all, it was promised a five course meal.

Leaping out from the jungle's undergrowth the natives came swift in the hunt. Out from vine ropes they swung, shooting spears of lickerish or many a dart from wafer tubes. Nervously heading this mass assault was Cara of the Celtic Meadows, hauling the Magical Lock by her side. And ahead, ran Zack and the dwarves, dividing in their efforts to lose the natives as best they could. And on and on they did blindly venture, losing sight of one another as the sound of a hunter's horn soared throughout the air.

'Curse this wretched jungle,' grumble Samif, puffing heavily while trying to keep up with his companions, 'why is it that we always have to run up hill?!'

'Keep moving!' yelled Droc, boldly venturing up a steep ridge, a treacherous line of rock and flow of river rushing by below, 'There's no telling what will happen if those natives capture us again? We can't afford to let this opportunity slip us by...'

Apparently, Airtu misplaced his footing? Samif braced himself. Droc's eyes simply filled with innocents – Thud! – Perhaps it was something he said?

Zack moved as swiftly as he could. Soon he come to a divide in the land; a vast gorge that lay before him. Only one path secured safe passage; a rope bridge crafted of vine and old laths of wood. With the natives close to hand, Cara and the Magical Lock at last rushed to join him, and it seemed that there was no alternative but to dare a crossing.

Steadily, he moved with care, the laths creaking beneath his feet as he did so.

'Ach, just don't look down,' said the Magical Lock.

'No kidding Sherlock,' said Cara, a lone dart sticking merely inches before her, 'I mean seriously, why is it always a rope bridge? Hasn't anyone ever heard of an escalator before?'

But ahead Zack suddenly came to a halt? Upon the far side were more natives, 'Now what?' he asked, staring from one swaying end to the other, the natives closing in from both ends.

'Your guess is as good as mine,' said Cara, 'but whatever we do, let's just hope this thing – Snap! – holds?'

A tin length of vine coiled through the air. Under their weight, it seemed that the rope bridge was striping its self piece by piece!

Snap!

Zack held on tightly, eyes wide with fear for the rush of water far below...

Droc son of Oric and his mighty fellows fumbled to pick themselves up from the ground. Strangely, from somewhere above they began to hear a rather frantic cry. Awkwardly, they gazed at one another? – A dark mass of wood and vine shot past the edge!

'Wasn't that?' said Droc, the frantic yelling easing to a soft fade below.

'Yes...' finished Samif, 'yes it was?'

The last strand of vine whipped in its fall. Morku tried to gaze beyond a heap of body parts sprawled out across him. He couldn't be sure, but he hoped that it wasn't his leg that had become entangled?!

Once again Droc found himself simply starring in innocents, as he and his mighty fellows were dragged out across the edge. This was going to hurt... he could tell!

Entangled in the vine they fell down into the might of a great river, washed along its winding course together with the rest of their companions. Struggling to survive, they lay powerless against the current, torn carelessly over many short falls lined of rock and drift of wood. And mountainous walls towered in many ages of greatness about its course. Where above the last of the natives did soon fade from sight, wildly flinging tip of spear with anger for those whom did evade their capture. Though it would be of little comfort, for once more the waters drew strength. It roared in its warn for a great waterfall did line its end of course. And no matter how hard they would try to break free, it would not let them go.

The fall came swift... so too did its end!

Easing in its depth, there came at last a clam flow of water. Lingering with tiredness, Zack and companions now lay in the shallow comfort of the rivers bank far below. Against all odds they had somehow survived the great fall. They had somehow evaded the natives and lived to tell the tale. But nothing could prepare them for where they now lay; especially, if you were unfortunate enough to be a dwarf?

'Look Zack, the fall...' said Cara, 'this must be it; we've made it to the Falls?!'

Yes, before all rose a great waterfall, magnificent in strength – the falls, the very path they had just survived – and through clouds of mist did stand within the form of a three headed beast. Caved out from the earth its self, its body did blend with the natural rock and flow of water, creep of foliage and menacing strangle of vine.

'It looks like a dragon,' said Airtu nervously, 'a three head dragon?'

'Oh no–no–no... you,' began Samif, spurting water from his mouth while waving his finger in protest at Droc, 'you said we wouldn't have to risk an encounter with a dragon if we helped the boy on his quest?!'

'Well I for one am just glad to be alive,' he replied, 'if the princess is held captive in there, then that my mighty fellows is where we're going!' He cleared his throat unconvincingly, 'besides, it's either that... or try our changes with the natives again?'

It was a point that you couldn't argue with.

'Well what are we waiting for?' said Morku, draining his boot of water as a fish flapped for dear life underneath his shirt, 'certain death by a fire breathing dragon; I'm good with that.'

Splash!

The fish swam for cover. You could say that it helped set the mood.

'Great,' conceded Samif, 'as if picking a fight with one dragon wasn't bad enough, we have to go along and make it three?'

Clearly, he was just getting into the swing of things.

As the dwarves began to bicker amongst themselves, Zack moved closer, glancing beyond the waterfall's shimmering view. Deep within he could see a cave, a downward venture of unknown depth? It scared him. Though nevertheless, it was a path. One he hoped, that would soon lead him to Suzan.

'Well amigo,' said Cara while approaching his side, 'I'd like to say that it's been swell and all. But honestly, you're one crazy kid taking on the Bounty like this?' She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, 'once we enter there is no turning back. Are you sure that you're ready for this?'

'Let's find out,' he replied, daring to enter the belly of the beast.

The best way to successfully pick a lock is to use a key. To secure such a device was no easy task. However, the small clan of Magical Locks had a plan; they would wait until the trolls lay snoozen. Suzan wasn't holding much in the way of hope, but below one tin cup, two pots and a satchel began to grow little feet? The first troll was easy. The second claimed to be a natural hunchback in his sleep? – And the third was all for the taking!

The tin cup lifted slowly. With wondering fingertips, a stealthily hand stretch forth in hope to snatch the key – Slash! – It hadn't expected a bone dagger to strike the earth before it?

Clearly, any further attempts to escape, was sure to be met with by a dead–end!

Darkness, within the belly of the beast a lantern's light began to softly glow.

'Would you keep it down,' said Cara, 'this whole operation depends on stealth. The Bounty aren't exactly the kind of people that you can approach easily – get it?'

'I'm just saying; Zack? – What kind of a name is that?' replied Droc.

'Four letters, one name,' said Airtu, 'Zack?'

'I prefer Sebastian myself,' added Samif, 'something a bit more adventurous?'

'Shush!' She hushed their words away with a wave of her tiny finger, 'quiet, like a shadow...'

Something told them that it would be unwise to disagree.

Ahead, Morku and Zack came now upon a small clearance. Easing to its edge, they began to notice a campfire burning brightly below. Gathered about it were three trolls, and above, lay Suzan.

'Suzie...' gasped Zack, relieved to have at last found her.

'This is the Bounty; trolls?' thought Cara, 'Kid, are you sure that she's a princess?'

'I told you; she's not a princess,' he said, 'now just tell me how we are going to get her out of here?'

'Are you serious, it's just a couple of trolls – How hard could it be?'

Zack's retuning gaze wasn't encouraging.

'Look's like they're preoccupied with something?' said Morku, 'Maybe we could use it to our advantage?'

'Ach wee crivens,' screeched the Magical Lock, 'it's my wee clan?!'

'Seems like you've got your usefulness after all?' said Cara, 'Come on, let's just get this over with – What's the plan?'

Droc stepped out from the shadows. Clearly, it was his moment to shine – if only he knew it.

Below the clan of Magical Locks were quite a handful; for such small a thing they were extremely agile. Something needed to be done – grown trolls fumbling about in hope of catching a stubborn cup, was proving somewhat embarrassing.

But unknown to all, above Droc son of Oric and his mighty fellows were in the midst of forming a human ladder. Morku held the anchor position upon the edge. Next in line hung Airtu, Earru, Samif and Droc – Zack made up its end. The plan was simple; with a bit of luck he could reach Suzan, allowing the dwarves to haul them both atop undetected.

The ladder swung. Zack reached for the cage... finding himself helplessly dangling upside–down wasn't what he had in mind?!

'Damn you dwarf–man,' moaned Cara, Morku picking himself up from the edge with awkwardness, 'you weren't suppose to let them go?'

'It's not my fault,' he pleaded, 'I couldn't hold on?'

'Save it for the inquisition, pal,' she replied disapprovingly, 'we're busted now for sure?'

Morku cringed. There would be no living with her after this.

'Zack, where did you come from?!' yelled Suzan with a fright.

However, time was not on his side. Zack desperately clung to her cage. Below him four reluctant dwarves swayed merely inches above the unsuspecting trolls. Under their weight he was losing his grip. And at any moment the Bounty were sure to notice one odd leg, two waving hands and Airtu's bemused expression staring them right between the eyes.

A troll looked left then right. Luckily, his timing was slightly off.

'Suzie – your hand – give me your hand...' tried Zack.

'You know you've got some explaining to do; running off and leaving me here like this,' she continued unmindfully, 'And just to think that I was worried about you all this time?'

'Your hand – just give me your hand, Suzie...'

'I don't know why I ever let you talk me into getting on that ship in the first instance,' she huffed, 'you and your adventures are always getting us into trouble.'

'Your hand – I can't hold on much longer...'

'Honestly, I wish you would just stop fooling around and get me out of here,' she complained, 'in case you haven't noticed, we're in enough trouble as it is!'

The dwarves gave a slight shrug of embarrassment. Apparently, when it comes to serving royalty they are no excuses.

'Your hand, Suzie...your hand!'

Too late, his fingers slipped way – Thud! – The trolls weren't too pleased; Droc son of Oric was surprisingly heavy... and that blasted cup was still on the loose?

Swiftly, the trolls dashed to their feet. Maddened by such a daring intrusion, one did roar with anger – Echo! Echo! Echo! – The moment froze – Echo! Echo! Echo! – All eyes widened as the roar echoed deep into the shadows – Echo! Echo! Echo! – And from them it fell silent though grew in new awareness – Echo! Echo! Echo! – And a great beast did rise with warn – Echo! Echo! Echo! – For none should ever want to awaken that which lurks within the darkness – Echo! Echo! Echo!

'You fool,' said another troll, 'you could have woken – Roar! – the beast?'

Oh dear – Slowly the earth began to tremble. In the darkness a great fire glowed beneath the ill intent of six red eyes. And in its awakening the beast did come forth; a dragon layered of harsh scale with great wings widening to a fierce pose. Strapped to its back lay the old remains of a saddle, its reins ripped apart to a disused like. And three long necks – lined of jagged bone – uncaringly crossed paths to the might of ill jaws. Before all its talons crippled the ground upon which it stood. And out from the earth many faults did stream onward, a rain of rock crashing to the ground as it began now to ferociously trash about the cave!

Samif weighed up his options. There was only one thing for it; a swift kick between the legs of a troll should just about buy them enough time to make a run for it!

The troll dropped to his knees. He really didn't have time to think about where the second had come from?

Quickly, Zack followed a link of chain. It seemed to run from Suzan's cage to an old wheel fixed firmly against a stone pillar. 'Just hold on, Suzie,' he yelled, 'I'll get you out of there!'

'Oh take your time,' she replied, 'besides, you're doing a real good job so far; why stop now?'

'Would you ever get a move on before we're toast!' yelled Cara coming to his aid.

'It's stuck, I can't move it,' he replied hurriedly, 'quick, give me a hand!'

Together they tried to move the wheel but it would not budge.

'It's no use, kid' said Cara, 'come on, we've got to get out of here now!'

'Just go, save yourself – I'm not leaving without Suzie!'

'Are you crazy; after everything we've been through?!' she replied, her sight desperately searching for a solution as the dragon grew near, 'Magical Lock, don't just stand there... get that freak clan of yours into action right this instant!'

'Ach, do you not know a jailbreak when you see one?' it replied, its clan scaling the chain links with hope to pick the lock, 'we're working on it lassie!'

But the dragon came swift, hissing as a great ball of fire rose throughout the air. Suzan was still trapped, and Zack had not the time to save her... when suddenly, a loud thud came from above?!

It was Morku son of Tork! Boldly leaping from the safety of the ledge, he landed – not so pleasantly – on top of the cage. The links snapped. The fire rumbled merely inches above as it fell to the ground, buckling the door open upon its harsh landing.

Without hesitation they made their getaway.

Morku... hobbled.

An early bird sat on a branch eyeing its prize; the cunning worm set upon its venturous wondering. The bird soared high with pride before swooping low, relishing the pre–taste of victory – Boom! – A sudden ball of fire consumed its body?

As the worm wiggled on to survive another day, it paid no heed to the bird once know to Captain Wide Front Silver as his beloved parrot, Nutcracker. Nor, it seemed, to that of a metal leg and one fashionable length of custom wood–wear, which stood above a strange commotion coming from somewhere beneath the earth?

Ignorance, it seemed, was much more than bliss. It was a matter of survival!

'All I'm saying is that it's either them...' suggested Samif.

'...or us,' finished one of the trolls, taking cover now behind a great rock just left of the dwarves, 'It's only a matter of...'

'...time,' continued Samif, 'before that wretched dragon rips this place apart!'

'Good thinking,' agreed Droc, 'now, if we can somehow force them out of cover...'

'...it could buy us enough time to escape,' said another troll, 'while the dragon is busy dealing with them.'

'Sounds good to me,' said Airtu, 'but how?'

'We'll fake a break for it,' suggested Samif, 'no doubt they'll try and...'

'...follow; it's a sure thing – trust me,' said the troll, 'on my count; one–one–hundred...'

'Two–one–hundred...'

'Three!' – Smash! – The trolls cover crumbled into pieces? They had to admit, it was great timing... just not on their account.

The dragon struck. The dwarves seized their opportunity!

'We've got to get out of here!' yelled Morku, urging Zack to keep moving along a narrow tunnel, the cave seeming to crumble more and more with every moment that passed.

'But what about the others?' he said.

'Just do what the damn man says,' insisted Cara, 'this is no time for the most outstanding citizen of the year award!'

'Come on, I think I can see daylight ahead,' said Suzan, 'we can make it if we hurry!'

'But...'

'Would you ever?!'

Her tone was irrefutable.

'Our situation has not improved!' cried Droc son of Oric, now dangling upside down from one of the mighty jaws of the dragon.

'Always with the negativity!' complained Samif, holding on to his chief.

'I was under the impression that we were suppose to escape?' added Airtu, somehow managing to find himself entangled within the dragon's reins.

'I'm just warming up!' screeched Earru, holding on to the beast for dear life as it whipped its tail about.

Droc flicked his eyes with embarrassment as Earru screeched passed. The professionalism of youth just wasn't what it used to be anymore.

But now the dragon crushed the last remaining troll with its mighty talons. And soon it would spread its wings, preparing it seemed, to take flight?

Its unwilling passengers screeched – Zoom! – Well, at least they were making progress.

Somewhere in the jungle's wilderness, a cave entrance exploded in a rain of rock. Dust coated figures stumbled blindly, tumbling head over heel to an awkward halt. Zack sprang up seated upon the ground, mad haired and quite bewildered for his narrow escape. Suzan didn't seem all that better, nor did Morku and Cara. Zack never did notice Droc and his companions shooting up through the air, helplessly clinging to the dragon as it swiftly flew across the sun. However, he did manage one metal hand, a hook and the inside of a rather dark sack?!

Chapter 9

Captain Wide Front Silver

A battle aged ship known as the ever so elusive, Shiver Me Timbers Ship Mates & Co Ltd, sailed across a vast silver sea. Captain Wide Front Silver stood quite firm upon the officer's deck, eyeing his faithful crew of fine reject nobility that ever was. Above him, the sound of an old copper bell began to ring throughout the air. As expected, all labour came soon to a halt.

Clearly, it was time for the crew's daily briefing.

Reluctantly, Captain Silver stepped forth to the drag of his wooden leg, 'if you will, just a few formalities before we begin,' he said, hinting for the latest topic of debate.

Promptly, his First Mate flipped a rather small notepad open, 'the complaint, Cap–em,' he obliged, 'It would appear that the ropes were bound too tightly on our last captives? And the bags, Cap–em...' he gave a slight cough with embarrassment for his profession, 'they smelled of fresh washing detergent, Cap–em?'

With a punch–line like that only one question remained, 'What kind?'

'Summer Rose Vanilla, Cap–em?!'

Briefly, Captain Silver shifted his sights to the heavens, 'of all the Gods?' he moaned.

'Aye, of all the rotten luck such is ours to be, Cap–em,' agreed his First Mate, 'It also goes on to say – and I quote – "appalling use of unregulated knotting? – One such captive fell faint, and two where admitted to ER with friction burns" Cap–em.'

'Are you sure?' he asked, trying to surmise just who would write such foul a deed as this.

'Aye, those are the words before me as clear as day, Cap–em.'

There was no mistaking it... it was obviously some blasted Board Member again.

'Very well,' he conceded, 'who was on duty at the time of the incident, Number One?'

'Bickford, Cap–em.'

'Bickford, eh?' said Captain Silver sternly, 'So be it – step forward Mr. Ford of Bickford!'

Innocently, a shiny robot stood out from the crowd. He should have stepped backwards like everyone else.

Swiftly, an eye–patch popped up, 'who is that?' asked Captain Silver's discreetly, taking the time to examine the figure presented before him more clearly.

'Bickford, Cap–em,' replied his First Mate, 'the staff member in question I believe, Cap–em.'

What else could he say?

'Ah...?' The Captain paused for a moment, 'have the boys rough him up a bit, would you? That should teach him to parade around on my ship looking all shiny–like – It's embarrassing!'

'Aye, aye, Cap–em – rough him up it is,' he noted with pleasure, 'and the complaint, Cap–em?'

'Make him walk the plank,' he added disinterestedly, 'but be sure give the wee bugger a lifebuoy. We wouldn't want a mutiny on our hands for breach of water safety regulations, now would we?'

'Right you are, Cap–em – safety first.'

With the formalities concluded, it was time to get to work.

'This very morn we have among us a catch most worthy,' began Captain Silver delightedly, 'Such worthy a catch – dare I say – that the Dark Lord pays in unquestionable wealth, for he does so desire a princess and her fallen kin.'

'Aye, aye, Cap–em – Aye, aye!' creed his crew.

'Hoist the colours – man the ropes and let our sails soar high, me scoundrels!' he roared, 'set a course due east by east west, for with such valuable cargo we dare lose not a moment more...To Traders Port we venture, where fortune and glory await us all!'

'Aye, aye, Cap–em – Aye, aye!'

And so Captain Silver's crew began preparing his ship for a swift sail. Out from its sides came long swooping sails, and at its stern a power source began to crave life; three triangular shaped energy grids shimmering like the sun. And great thrusters gave birth to an air of mist below, for hull of ship did rise forth from the sea. Within the sky they would now set sail, a far upon an ocean of heavenly cloud with joy and song in their labour of love.

'The men, Cap–em... they're singing?'

The Captain's First Mate had a point – when it came to the murderous vocals of a fine wee song, something had to be done?

'You boy, what be your name sonny?' asked Captain Silver.

'That's the water boy, Cap–em,' interrupted his First Mate, 'the men call him Master Tiller, Cap–em. He's a good worker with the kindness of an Angel. Dreams of one day becoming a fully pledged pirate – oh how he tries, Cap–em... may the Gods bless his wee microchip.'

Captain Silver paused, pondering on such fine words for one so young— oh well?

'Give him twenty lashes,' he said firmly, 'that should set an example to the rest of the men.'

'But he's a mute, Cap–em,' tried his First Mate, 'can't speak nor sing, Cap–em?'

'Well... give yourself some lashes then,' he replied unmindfully.

'But, Cap–em...'

'Carry on Number One... orders is orders.'

'Aye, Cap–em... lash meself it is, Cap–em,' conceded his First Mate reluctantly to the leave of his honorable Captain.

Looking at the boy, he braced himself for the unthinkable; such innocents, such joy, a sheer light to all in a time of darkness. This would be but a small sacrifice he would gladly pay; a selfless act to save that of a young innocent soul...'sorry boy, but Cap–em's orders.'

Well, he was pirate after all!

Below deck, Zack and Suzan were glad to be reunited.

'Oh Zack, however did you find me?' asked Suzan, 'What's going on and who are these people?'

'It's a long story, but don't worry they're my friends,' he replied, 'they helped me to rescue you.'

'You call this a rescue,' she asked, 'we've been captured by pirates Zack. We don't even know where we are, or what's going to happen to us?'

'I'm trying not to think about that right now,' he replied while glancing down at Professor Clayton's crystal, 'but whatever's going on, I reckon it has something to do with this?' However, he could tell that Suzan was still feeling uneasy, 'here,' he said while handing her the crystal, 'you wear it for a while. It's brought me good luck and kept me safe, I guess? Maybe it will do the same for you?'

She smiled for a time. It may have been a small gesture of hope considering their circumstance, but to her it seemed an awful lot more.

Soon Cara came to their side.

'Did you find out where we are heading?' asked Zack.

'Some port – Traders – Never heard of it before, but it sounds pretty bad if you ask me?' she replied calmly.

'A port,' said Suzan, 'I wonder what it could be?'

'In this world, 'replied Zack' 'I'm not so sure I want to find out?'

'Traders Port, now there's a place I have not heard of in sometime?' said a strange voice from somewhere of near.

'Who said that?' yelled Cara with a fright, 'whoever it is; you better pray that someone holds me back, because I'm about get B.I.G all up in here... notorious style!'

Promptly, a shadow took one for the team.

Within the next cell, out from the darkness came the sharp glint of an eye. Whoever it was, their face lay unshaven, and hidden beneath a dark patch, the lining of a crude scar crossed one of his eyes?

'Such a place,' he continued, looking out beyond the iron of his cell, 'is a haven for thieves and ill folk alike. In short, my strange companions, it is a place that you do not what to find yourself in freely... let alone as prisoner.' He eyed the crystal that Zack had just given to Suzan, 'perhaps I could be of help, for it seems that you are in need of much if what I have come to hear so far is true?'

'Don't listen to him, kid,' begged Cara, 'he' a rogue, a mercenary for hire like all wild elves. You can't trust his kind. They don't care for noble gesture like the others. They only care about one thing... themselves.'

'True,' replied the wild elf, 'a fee of worth could earn my blade... if you care to make an offer?'

'And how exactly would you help us,' asked Zack, 'it looks to me like you're stuck here too?'

'I never think that far ahead,' he simply replied with a devilish smirk.

'I told you, you just can't trusted those guys,' said Cara disapprovingly, 'we'll find our own way out of here – thank you very much.'

'Are you schooled in ignorance?' he said, 'Look around you and tell me what it is that you see? Imagine what must lie beyond these walls? None of you would see the rise of a new morn before getting lost or worse. I am Estaru of Wilvanu – Elf Among The Wild Eastern Breeze. I know of most lands, and I have come to see many things far beyond that which any one man cares to understand. My blade is true for whomever I choice to wield it for. Why not use my help, for if we work together then we both share a chance to be free?'

'Just why are you here anyway?' asked Zack.

'Call it fate,' he replied, 'as for the rest... that is of my own concern.'

'If we were to help each other,' said Zack, 'you could find a way out of here, couldn't you?'

'These doors of iron lie but on a slight hinge,' replied the elf, 'a length of iron would be enough to loosen them if chance arose?'

'And the ship...?'

'As I have already said; I never like to think that far ahead,' he devilishly replied once more, 'but first, however... you must name your price.'

'But I don't have a price?' said Zack innocently. Estaru eyed the crystal, suggesting its worth. But Zack, however, would not let Suzan part with it so easily, 'you cannot have it,' he said firmly, 'it is not ours to give.'

'Then why would I risk my neck for you?'

'So it is really true... you care for nothing but yourself?'

'I knew a young boy once; just like you,' replied Estaru, 'he spent his life willing to do what was right; to stand for those who could not help themselves. But he was foolish to the ways of life and the cruel care of men hidden deep within their hearts.' He tapped his eye patch, 'take my advice and care only for your own fate above all others.'

'Leave him be,' interrupted Suzan, 'no price would cover that of his selfish pride.'

'Then perhaps you will find a truer soul among Traders Port,' he replied, 'if you survive that long?'

Cara dusted off the elf's advice, 'so...' she began while eyeing Morku, 'what now – because I have to tell you... your skill as a locksmith isn't shaping up to be much of a page–turner, now is it?'

'Ach, ah'm workin' on it,' interrupted the Magical Lock, 'my clan's on the move as ah speak.'

'We scoo'ped the area – Cheakin' the manual book – Sea charts – Number o' Prives and so forth,' said another, 'Technically, it a'd take a wee five member crew to sail this ship. Ain't that right lads!'

'Aye, five noo prob's!' cheered many voices.

'Ach, how many Prives on board?' asked their chief excitedly.

'Ah'll not lie,' it began, 'on a wee count ah'd say no more than thirty to frothy?'

'Ach wee crivens?!'

'Aye, wee crivens chief – but don't you worry none... just give the word and we'll take them out noo prob's.'

'And how exactly are you going to do that?' asked Morku.

'Ach, easy...' it replied proudly, 'we'll just wait until they're snoozen.'

Cara didn't seem pleased. Wisely, the clan scattered – 'Ach wee crivens, runnea for your life's! – Clearly, they had a job to do.

From the shadows Estaru could not help but laugh, 'fools you must be if to rely on such aid, least mine... Twenty pieces of silver and I could throw you overboard, would that help?'

'Why don't you try helping us instead of simply mocking us!' yelled Zack in anger.

'Use your wits boy,' he replied, 'if I were really able to free myself, do you think that I would still be here?!'

'Well at least I haven't given up, unlike you!'

'Would you two ever put an end to your bickering?' said Suzan, 'This isn't helping either of us!'

'Suzie's right,' agreed Cara, 'this is not the time to lose your nerve. Besides, Droc is still at large – With a little luck and some help on the outside – I have a feeling that this isn't the end of us just yet...'

Ripping throughout the air, the dragon crossed over a vast land of wilderness. It crashed through treetops. It twirled in its flight. It swooped under and over fallen tree logs with breath taking precision. When at last it soared to a mighty height once more... suddenly, it plunged into a death–defying freefall?!

Its unwilling passengers, Droc son of Oric and his mighty fellows... had their concerns.

'Aye, Madam,' added Morku confidently, 'no doubt they will stop at nothing to save us; crossing the entire dark lands of this earth without rest until they do.'

A thick tree line crackled with the heat of a raging fire. Droc scampered to and fro, screaming with panic while being chased to the ends of the earth, it seemed, by the dragon. After a moment of silence... his mighty fellows soon followed. They weren't quite so sure who they were supposed to be chasing?

'Don't you worry,' continued Morku, 'we'll be out of here before you know it. After all, we dwarves are very resourceful – Mounting daring rescues is our specialty.'

'Amen to that,' agreed Cara, 'I'd even wager that as we speak, he's just waiting for the perfect moment to strike?'

'Now let's not be too hasty,' said Droc while facing a drooling row of teeth, 'there's no reason why we should have to do this the hard way, is there?'

'I don't know which is worse; being eaten alive or suffocating from the stench of its breath?' complained Samif, feeling a little puffed in the cheeks. No doubt, due to the dragon's tail which wrapped around him and his companions like a snake coiled around it's pray.

'We're doomed, doomed like our forefathers' before us!' panicked Earru, a flare of nostril and hiss of steam rising before him.

'Oh stop your whining!' yelled Airtu.

'Don't eat me, please don't,' begged Earru, "eat him; he's mature and tender!"

Droc didn't seem impressed, 'no eat him... he's young and fresh!' What else could he do?

'You can eat me first if it means that I don't have to listen to you two any longer!' yelled Samif, wishing that the pair would put a sock in it.

The dragon's tail coiled itself even tighter.

'This is it,' said Droc, 'no long goodbye – No sweat nothing's. There's nothing, nothing but...the soft though ever so slightly moist, loving feeling of a gentle and surprisingly affectionate caress for your mere life's worth?!'

He opened his eyes. He could tell that Samif's will to live with dignity was slowly being drained from his soul. Apparently, the dragon was licking them like that of a joyful puppy?

'It seems we have made a new friend,' said Earru, rubbing the ear of one of the dragon's heads, 'who's a good boy then?'

'I think I would rather be eaten if it's all the same, thank you very much,' conceded Samif.

'Stop it! – Stop it! – Sit boy... sit!" yelled Airtu, "Let me down... sit!'

The dragon released the group, running about like a devilish puppy looking for trouble.

Things they thought, were about to get complicated?

'I suppose it wants to play fetch now?' said Airtu, 'surely this cannot be a famous fire breathing dragon such as the one of our forefathers' time, can it?'

'Yes, that's it alright; a devilish fiend if I ever seen one,' stated Droc nervously, 'don't fall for its puppy looks. There's no telling what its kind are capable of?'

A dwarf helplessly entangled within a ball of leaves shot through the air? Playing fetch with a dragon is a dangerous game; you have to remember to let go of the tree!

'We haven't got time for this,' said Samif, disregarding Earru's plea for help, 'if last I recall – hanging on for dear life from the blasted ends of that dragon – we noted that our companions were being captured by pirates! There's no telling where they might be now? And we're stuck a million miles from neither here nor there with...' He pointed to the dragon uncaringly, 'with that?'

Innocently, the dragon shied.

'Can't we keep him?' asked Airtu while watching it fling its unwilling playmate, Earru, high into the air before tackling him to the ground, 'just look how it plays with the wee youngling; so lovingly; so gentle...?'

'Let's just get moving,' said Droc dismissively, the very thought of a Watch Dragon sending shivers down his spine, 'now quit messing around and come on!'

A body flew overhead – 'aayyeee Cchhiieeff!!!' – Droc couldn't quite put his finger on it, but that voice sounded familiar?

As they began to walk on the dragon soon followed, stopping every now and then in hope to avoid suspicion?

'Maybe it's not that bad,' finally admitted Samif, a strange feeling of guilt washing over him for those lost puppy dragon eyes, 'after all, it did save us from those trolls.'

'How do you mean?' asked Droc, glancing behind to see just where that devilish fiend had got to now.

Swiftly the dragon halted. Three Innocent heads looked aimlessly about... One may have even whistled?

'Well, if you think about it, it did make short work of those trolls before carrying us out of that cave to safety, if you will?'

Droc paused to consider this, 'I suppose the man has a point,' he said, 'from a certain point of view, you could say that it did try to help us?' He looked at the dragon once more, 'besides, it is a long way back... at least, by foot?'

'And dragons do have a keen sense of smell too,' added Earru looking somewhat worse for wear.

'Yes, it had been guarding her Highness for a time?' concluded Airtu, the dragon nodding with eyes a sparkle of hopeful delight, 'such ability could prove to be a useful advantage?'

They paused for a moment; it was as good an idea as anything else.

'Then it is agreed,' said Droc, 'with due favour of its members, the Chair recognizes the motion and carries it!'

'On one condition,' added Samif, "it gets a bath." The dragon wasn't pleased, 'Well maybe not now of course, but... sometime in the future, perhaps?' The future wasn't looking so bright either. Wisely, Samif threw his arms in the air, 'never mind; it was only a thought.'

Great, it was settled. With an overwhelming air of excitement, the dragon hopped about with joy. Little did they know that from this moment forth it would be a loyal friend for eternity – Providing, of course, that a bath was not an option?

With not a moment to lose it sniffed the crisp air for a scent. And soon its eyes would narrow upon the find of a set course.

Suddenly...it ran toward the dwarves? – 'Oh no?!' – Thud! – They where airborne, clenched firmly within the dragon's jaws!

But upon the horizon a storm began to stir. If the pirates' set sail across the Dunes of Earthly Time, Droc could only hope that he could reach them before it may be too late...

'What's happening?' asked Zack, unsteady in his feet below deck, 'It feels like we've run into some kind of...'

'Sandstorm...?' interrupted the elf, 'and if what I hear is true of the earth below, such a storm they say can rip a vessel apart within the blink of an eye. Least that is what they say?'

'What do you mean?' he asked.

'If our destination is indeed Traders Port, there is only one viable route for such underhand trading; the airflow above the Dunes of Earthly Time. Merchants sometimes use its course of unrest to conceal their flight path. However, it does not come without cost.'

'Conceal from whom?' asked Suzan.

'Warlords – Witch Blades – Bounty Hunters...' he replied, 'take your pick; everyone has their price.'

'And they say that hounor amongst thieves is well and truly over,' said Cara, 'well this has turned out to be quite an upset, wouldn't you say?'

'What if we don't make it?' said Morku, 'I mean, you are talking about sailing through the storm, aren't you?'

Estaru eyed the walls, listening as to how they now seemed to creak with fear, 'yes,' he said at last, 'and if we're lucky... you should pray that we don't.'

'Easy as she be, Number One,' said Captain Silver, 'down sails to half for we dare not tempt such fate as Hers.'

'Aye, Cap–em,' replied his First Mate before relaying his orders to the crew, 'half sail it is on deck – deck all hands!'

'Starboard side, two–one–two degrees... easy–easy–easy!'

'Cap–em...?' he began unsurely, 'Starboard side, Cap–em?'

Captain Silver heisted; on the flip of a coin – left it was!

'Aye, Cap–em – make ready to set course left–left–left!'

Bravely, Captain Silver set his sight upon the eye of a great storm, bracing himself for the crushing wave of a sand cloud. Across the decks and many sails it raged, smothering all before its path. And an eye of anger did swirl, daring to drag his ship inward upon a vortex crackling with light and looming shadows of darkness – the true birth of the storm.

'Are you sure about this, Cap–em,' asked his First Mate, 'for such risk seems hard to fathom?'

'Aye, Number One,' he replied, 'hostile takeovers are all but common in these parts. We must ensure that none follow our course if payment of deed is to be truly ours.' He raised his spyglass, screeching a far, 'take us in, Number one,' he continued, 'let the almighty barcode determine our expiry date, for Traders Port... awaits.'

Slash?!

Discreetly, many blades sounded from somewhere of near? Promptly, Captain Silver's First Mate imposed his authority, 'perhaps "about" would be more agreeable with the men, Cap–em?' he kindly suggested.

'Aye,' agreed Captain Silver while cautiously lowering his spyglass, 'that would be for the best as it were.'

So too thought the men.

'Now listen to me boy,' said Estaru, 'you see that wall breathing with life? Listen to its cry of pain. It tells you that this ship has but one purpose; to tear its self apart. Your chance of survival needs only my help.' He eyed a piece of iron that had come loose from the wall, 'that rail... I could use it to prop this gate open, if only you would fetch it for me?!'

'But I thought you said that you couldn't...'

'I know what I said, boy,' he interrupted, 'just do as I ask?!'

'Don't listen to anything he says, kid,' said Cara, 'you know that you can't trust him.'

'We don't have time for this,' insisted the elf, 'do it boy... do it before it's too late!'

Zack shifted his sight back and forth, unsure of what to do? About him the walls did seep with sand. They creaked and flexed, almost rippling like waves before layers of wood begin now to strip away. Whatever he was going to decide, he would have to do it soon. Carefully, he dared to make his way across the cell's floor, quickly jerking the iron free – Boom! – Before he could hand it to Estaru, a large hole suddenly erupted within the ship's hull!

It seemed that things may have taken a turn for the worst – the ship was now plummeting through the air!

A fierce rush of air washed throughout the cell. It dragged Zack down across the floor, willing to pull him a far beyond the ship's gaping wound. Quickly Morku leaped to his aid, followed by Suzan whom grasped hold of the cell's cage to keep them safe from harm. But the segments of iron were sharp, and the force of air was strong – though the Magical Lock and Cara would try to help – Suzan knew that she could not hold on much longer. Her grasp was weakening, and one by one her fingers did begin to slip away...

'Help us,' she tried, calling to Estaru, 'earn your trust and help us!'

But the elf would not listen. Instead he was simply trying to grasp the length of iron which landed just shy of his reach.

'Help us! – I can't hold on much longer!'

Again Estaru had not the time to listen, reaching out as far as he could but still his hand lay taunted.

'Are you even listening to me?!' she desperately cried, 'Help us damn it––Help us!' – But he was close, so close; just a little more time, that's all he needed – 'you want your reward, is that it?!' She hinted at the professor's crystal, 'then take it... it's yours!'

Suddenly her hand came loose!

'I've got you!' said Estaru, his grasp firm upon her arm as he watched his freedom slip away. However, in doing so his chains of captivity cut deep into his wrist; the iron segments of his cell weighing heavily upon his pain. And jerking loose from its once secure fitting, the divide came crashing down. Though his heart stayed true, Estaru's pain was now too great. They were lost to him... truly, he do no more.

A cry sounded from atop of the crow's nest, 'customer overboard!' Suspiciously, whoever it was may also have been referring to himself?

'Blast!' fumed Captain Silver, limping his way to the side of his ship as it trashed about to the fury of the storm, 'Number One...' he yelled, 'what be the price for fair wage of absconders this eve?' he asked.

'Dishes, Cap–em,' replied his First Mate gravely, about him all that remained unfastened – and some reluctant crew – sliding uncontrollably back and forth, 'washing dishes, Cap–em... lots of dishes.'

There was only one thing for it, 'send some men below deck to secure the breach at once,' he ordered, 'if least to settle the small mater of the Bill.'

'Aye, Cap–em,' he diligently replied, the wind flicking through his notepad, 'clientele invoice in route as we speak, Cap–em.'

He could calculate the price for his Tip later.

Below deck Estaru rose to his feet. He Gazed beyond the ship's wound of hull. Rising forth from the angered earth below, he could see many an edge of dune. But the ship seemed now to ease in its downward course, if least a little. Perhaps, he thought, his companions of strange had survived their fall?

Thud!

From behind a door few open. Promptly, three pirates, two pistols and one cheque plate stood at the ready. Slowly, Estaru eyed his only path of escape – Click! – The pistols warn suggested differently – Bang! – He jumped...

The pirates gazed awkwardly at one another. Perhaps next time per–loading their pistols before use would be more effective. But more importantly, who was going to wash the bloody dishes now?

The sandstorm swept across the Dunes of Earthly Time. Soon Estaru would find Zack and Suzan. Though somewhat worse for wear, thankfully they had survived – as too did their companions. But in the blinding harshness of the storm, Estaru knew that if they were to survive any longer they would need to find shelter.

Great canyons form in the distance. In the heart of a sand–shaded cave, he would try to convince them to wait it out.

They didn't really have a choice.

Chapter 10

The Dunes of Earthly Time

Port of Royal Reception

A beam of golden light lit the Port of Royal Reception. Upon a smooth ground of white marble, a dark vessel prepared to dock as it entered now from beyond the light of day. Thrusters hissed while many a sail began to lower. Drawing out from its bow, a platform fell heavily to the earth as a webbed pair of feet flapped in their stride.

King Evil's butler stood in wait alongside a guard of honour – Thud! – All eyes watched on as their King reached the port of land sooner than anticipated?

Embarrassingly, his Majesty picked himself up for the ground. Three flights of steps wasn't all that bad. He could edit the fourth out later.

'I trust that you trip went well, your Majesty?' said his faithful butler.

King Evil didn't seem pleased, 'if you're looking for the reversed imprint of a crown encircled by the words "Made in China" straight between the eyes,' he said while eyeing his ring of kingship, 'it could be arranged...'

'Sorry, your Majesty,' he replied innocently, 'perhaps news of your cunning plan maybe more to your liking?'

'Yes, I trust all is as planed my faithful butler?' replied King Evil, beginning to make his way down the vast aisle of honour.

'Yes, your Majesty, the alliance will soon be at an end,' he replied delightedly, 'we have received word that princess and her rebel companions have been captured. As we speak our team of highly skill experts make sail for Traders Port; naturally, awaiting his Majesty's command.'

'And the Honour Guards...?' he asked intriguingly.

'Minimum wage extras as requested your majesty,' confirmed his faithful butler.

What more could he ask for.

'Excellent,' replied King Evil, 'soon everything shall finally fall into place... nothing can stop us now!'

'Your Majesty!' yelled an intruding messenger, 'I bring urgent news from the western front – and one double espresso.'

Well, what's the point in world domination if it doesn't come with a few perks?

'This better be good,' he fumed, 'otherwise... you're not getting a tip.'

When it comes to bad service, nobody likes to pay extra.

'Of course, your Majesty, but if I may...' Nervously, the messenger unrolled a scroll before him, 'distress signal received from Captain Wide Front Silver – Last transmission; On route to Traders Port – Attempting to cross the Dunes of Earthly Time – Bracket – Airspace – Close bracket – Storm – Ship Downed – Troublesome kid – Wee buggers have only gone and legged it! – Postscript; whose going to wash the bloody dishes now–dot–dot–dot–question mark – Message terminated.'

'Blast,' fumed King Evil once more, 'I thought that I had requested cream on my coffee?!' He paused awkwardly while sucking his caffeine drenched finger, 'I'm sorry... what was that you were just saying then?'

'The ship, your Majesty,' informed his faithful butler, 'I believe that he is trying to tell you that it has apparently crashed?'

'Those blundering gits,' said King Evil, 'you know I would have gone with the Mafia, but they sent me the head of a toy horse, ensuring to send "The Real McCoy" when times were more economically viable?' He tapped his coffee cup in thought, 'I suppose just sending her an invitation to dinner would be out of the question?'

'Most likely, your Majesty.'

'Right, that prince charming has crossed me for the last time,' he began, 'Send a small recovery crew to aid Captain Silver's effort of recapture. We must make sure that the princess does not fall under his charm – I want no mistakes this time. And make sure that we get a discount for the inconvenience caused.'

'Yes, your Majesty,' replied his faithful butler, 'I shall see to it at once.'

Discreetly, the messenger gave a cough while attempting to extend his hand. Promptly, King Evil began rummaging for some loose change, 'oh I'm sorry,' he said, 'how much is that exactly?'

'Twenty–four dollars, your Majesty... plus VAT.'

Suddenly his Majesty seemed to be short–changed. He gestured to his faithful butler, 'would you...' he tried, 'I seem to have come up shot on this one?'

His butler did the math; his Majesty had come up short every time. Reluctantly, he paid the bill. However, his Majesty could reclaim the expenses later. A dark alleyway and one sharply edged dagger usually worked wonders.

'It seems that we have not a moment to lose,' said King Evil, 'you must see that the necessary preparations are in place, should they reach the port before our interception. I will personally take charge of the fleet, and see to it that this boy does not meddle in our affairs again.'

'But of course, your Majesty,' replied his faithful butler, bowing politely to his Majesty's leave, 'as you wish...'

Only one question remained, when it came to the necessary preparations, would his Majesty prefer a candlelit dinner or something a bit more modern... like duck–tape and instruments of torture?

Surrounded by a vast sea of dune, the ever so elusive Shiver Me Timber Ship Mates & Co Ltd lay half sunken. The storm had at last cleared, and Captain Silver's crew had salvaged what remained of his ship as best they could. But standing within the crude hole of his ship's hull, Captain Silver gazed a far across the dessert with an eye for business. There was no telling how far his captives may have gotten. And though the Bill remained unsettled, for the moment there were more pressing matters at hand.

'Number One,' he yelled while turning sharply, 'full report, if you please!'

'Aye, Cap–em,' replied his First Mate, flicking through his notepad with efficiency, 'pleased to report that there be no loss to crew save one, Cap–em.'

'One, you say...?'

'Aye, Cap–em, Johnny Boy Sullivan,' he continued, 'the poor old bugger lost it wee shy of our lucky escape from the ill sky. A brave lad if ever I saw – Voted employee of the mouth as sure as the sky be blue, Cap–em.'

'Aye, for such said loss is it ours to bear, Number One,' replied Captain Sliver respectfully, removing his hat as he gazed upon the heavens for a moment of reflection, 'Dare I be so bold as to ask just how it happened?'

'Splinter, Cap–em...'

'Oh aye, aye...'

'Couldn't get the wee bugger out of his fan belt,' he explained, 'currently, he's sitting in Med Bay feeling the worst for wear, Cap–em.'

'Aye, that would do it alright,' agreed Captain Silver, 'Why don't you have the men do a wee whip–round, see if there is something that we can do to cheer the old fellow up?'

'Aye, Cap–em,' replied his First Mate delightedly, 'say... twenty lashes?'

'Make it twenty–five,' replied Captain Silver warmly, 'we wouldn't want the poor bugger to feel left out, now would we?'

'Mighty kind of you, Cap–em – I'll see that the men get to it on the double.'

Captain Silver began now to make his way through his beloved ship, inspecting her damage and current need of repairs. As expected, his First Mate gave a full report, 'the ship may seem heavily damage at first glance, Cap–em. But she isn't beyond repair, if we could rummage up enough spare parts. Wilkins has kindly offered his leg to make do as a shaft for the Air Stream System. And old Peterson has volunteered to strap himself to the bow, acting as the ship's figurehead if need be, Cap–em.'

'Aerr me hearty, it be a fine wee crew we have,' replied Captain Silver with joy, now heading topside with the fresh air a welcome to his mood. He paused awkwardly. Within a web of rope above, a crew member seemed to be helplessly entangled? 'Number One,' he said, 'pistol, if you will?'

Bang!

Somewhere, a rope snapped. To Captain Silver's surprise, the lookout preached high within the crow's nest came crashing down.

Apparently, someone had shot him?

'Carry on men; keep up the good work and... so on?' he screeched, quietly moving on while leaving his First Mate to dispose of the evidence.

Swiftly, he tucked the pistol behind his back, its smoke barrels suspiciously drifting overhead, 'Aye, Cap–em,' he said nervously, 'but about the escapees, Cap–em... what be such orders?'

Promptly, the crew began to sneak up behind them both, hands ready to blade if favourable course of order was not to be.

'The ship must be repaired,' replied Captain Silver gravely, 'ready to make sail for final voyage. The calculations of such are two and a third of a day, and that is time Number One, that we cannot afford.'

'What do you suggest, Cap–em?' he asked, the crew keenly wishing to overhear their conversation.

'There is only one thing we can do,' – blades began to draw – 'choose two of the finest men we have and send them forth with orders of recapture,' – pistols raised – 'Once the ship is fit for sail, we will rejoin their efforts promptly.'

'But Cap–em, we have no hand to spear as it is?' replied his First Mate worriedly, 'and the men, Cap–em; orders as such... well?' he gestured unfavourably.

Captain Silver turned sharply, all signs of mutiny swiftly vanishing, 'I am the Captain of this vessel, am I not?' he asked.

'Aye, Cap–em, Aye...'

'The men loyal and of my command, are they not?'

'Depending on how such persons would look at it, Cap–em... aye.'

'Then there is simply no other option...'

Click! – Twenty blades and sixteen pistols may have taken a different view?

'Number One,' screeched Captain Silver, a ring of mutiny seeming to be too close for comfort, 'it looks like we may have to settle this the old navy way?'

'Aye, Cap–em... Aye?'

On the bright side, it was nice to see such fine morale amongst the men.

Throughout the sunlight air a golden coin spun. The "navy way" according to pirates of scoundrel nobility, was none other than the old reliable...best of three!

Heads – orders of the Captain stood. Tails – putting it bluntly, he could sod off.

On the first flip the crew moaned. On the second they cheer, but on the third they moan once more much to Captain Silver's delight.

Swiftly, a lifeboat lowered over the side of the ship. Duty bound, Captain Silver and his trusted First Mate had little choice but to go with it?

Fortunately for the crew, good old piracy wasn't what you might call... a democracy!

Taking leave of his beloved ship, Captain Silver set out across the Dunes of Earthly Time, while his not so faithful crew seen to the task of repairing his ship. But high above the cast of sail, beyond the crow's nest to a lone flag of white skull and bone, sat a small clan of Magical Locks – and two rather shook looking gulls?

There they sat in quietness, eyeing the crew a far below. And there they would wait, until such a time that they would be needed the most.

A rock hit the earth. Estaru finished loosening his chains, his wrists free form captivity at last. To his side, Suzan let a scream? In the darkness of the cave, the skeleton remains of a person lay crumbled to one side.

'Ease your fears,' he said, 'it has been long since this one has troubled anyone.' He pulled a sword from the pile of bones, wiping down a mass of web about its blade, 'looks like you have little use for this my friend,' he said, 'but perhaps... I may?'

'I wonder who he was?' asked Zack.

'My guess... a soldier of some kind,' he replied, 'they say that long ago a great civil war waged within these canyons. As to who and why, such has been lost to the minds of men. But most likely of his time, he must have sought shelter from a storm just as we.'

'Only he never made it?' said Cara.

'Evidently...' Estaru drifted his sight now about the cave. It seemed to him that a series of passageways lay further in, 'but at least we do not have such troubles to worry about. However, if we are not careful, we could find ourselves lost in here for some time to come?'

'But the way out is only back there,' said Suzan, pointing to the way that they had entered, 'and if you think for one moment that I am going anywhere in here with you, you're sadly mistaken.'

'I think you will find that you have little choice,' he replied, 'least not if you want my help?'

Morku made his way back to the entrance. He didn't get far.

'Ach, wee crivens, it's covered in,' said the Magical Lock, 'we're trapped... really good–en too?!'

Cara refused to take the news well, 'oh I don't believe this,' she said, clawing her way for survival, 'this is defiantly not my idea of a breakthrough audition!'

'If you insist on leaving the way that you have entered,' said Estaru, 'then you will drown in a sea of sand before you even see the light of day.'

'And just why is it that you are so keen to help us now?' asked Suzan, however, she felt that she already knew the answer; 'or is it that you didn't really set a price – You felt obligated, didn't you?'

'Why?' he replied hastily, casting his sight upon Zack, 'because the boy gave his trust in me when others would not?' He looked away stubbornly, 'relax Lady; I'm only in this for the reward... nothing more.' Somehow, she didn't quite believe him. 'Besides, it looks like we are in this together, least for the moment? As soon as we find a way out of here; trust me, you're on your own.' He pointed to the way forward, insisting, 'now shall we...?'

Reluctantly Suzan smiled, 'after you, of course...' she too insisted.

However, Zack wasn't too keen on moving far. It may have had something to do with the barrel of a pistol that pressed hard against his back?

'Taking a man's belongings when he's sleeping don't seem all that right to me?' said a cold voice, 'now I ain't the sharpest knife in poor old Billy Jean's back, but by the by... you folks look like thieving rebels to me.'

Estaru froze, eyeing the blade that he had just taken. The undead always did know how to make an entrance. After all, they weren't the kind you could ignore easily.

Standing before them, the skeleton remains of the soldier walked into the dim light. A Navy Colt seemed itchy for some target practice as his comrade, Privet Billy Jean Bad Leg, rounded upon the suspected rebels.

'You've come across this kind of thing before, right?' hissed Cara.

Estaru shrugged his shoulders, 'truthfully, it's a first for me?' he replied.

'I don't see much rebel colours–Serge?' said Billy Jean, his Henry Rifle pointing aimlessly about, 'maybe they're deserters?'

'Deserters, eh...?' said Sergeant Hang, 'by my reckoning that's a hanging offence in these parts.'

'I fear that there has been a slight misunderstanding,' interrupted Estaru while cautioning Zack and Suzan to remain still, 'if I may...'

'Raise them up nice and high best suits you stranger!' came a swiftly replied, 'In case you ain't got much in the way of word; there's a civil war that sets the mood none too much brightly in these parts, if you catch my meaning?'

'Steady your mind for we mean you no harm.'

'Check there belongings,' continued Sergeant Hang, not wishing to take any chances, 'we'll get to the truth of this none too soon.' His corpse leaned closer, 'so stranger, there ain't no two ways about it... you're either with us or against us – Which is it going to be?'

Their choice was simple – hang as a rebel or enlist?

Either way it was going to be a life sentence.

Chapter 11

Two Desperate Gits

Deep in the heart of a canyon valley, General Ford eyed the field of battle through the use of an old spyglass. It was his prize possession. Though annoyingly, it never seemed to work much the same in the afterlife. And there were times, he felt, when using his naked eye would be of far more use to him. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that his eye was actually stuck to its outer lens. But apparently, no one ever dared to ask why – he was just found that way?

Nonetheless, down he drew his sight. Across his lines, trenches and cannons, and let's face it... mass–graves! All as it should be, all as it has been for centuries; Trapped in some kind of ungodly limbo, he and his men continuing to fight a civil war, an undead civil war to be precise. If you got shot here you simply said, "Ah bugger, not again?!" before being promptly carried off to the sideline. Yes, who would have guessed that "Rest in Peace" simply meant having the day off? Whatever happened to good old fashion death? The six inch nail in your coffer and a good luck gesture to wish you well on your way – the old so long sucker! But here, among the Valley of Death, the good, the bad and the damn right ugly would battle for a time without end. And as with such a time, no one could remember why and how, or ever where, it had all begun?

These were but a few thoughts floating through the corpse of an officer and a dead–man. However, General Ford had a plan to rid himself of this everlasting unrest. But for the moment there seemed to be a rather strange matter that required his full attention...

'Enlist?' he snapped before turning sharply – Crack! – Perhaps too sharply? After all, his rib cage wasn't what it used to be in his younger days of life. In fact, it wasn't where it use to be. 'Did you say, and I quote; "enlist"?' — Crack!

'Ah, I'm sure that did it, Sir,' remarked Commander Coop before attempting to reply to his General's question, 'Yes Sir, "enlist" with your permission of course, Sir.'

Commander Coop was a tall, slim man wearing the befitting attire of an Officer and a Gentleman. Although, when the cry of battle called he would describe it as; "Officer and a Git, sod the flag and sod this bloody war!" Overall, he could simply be summed up through his family motto; "Take a bullet for no man or country...not even your neighbour's wife!"

'You want me to enlist a rebel under my command on behalf of Officer Gump, Mr. Coop?' asked General Ford, quite baffled by this daring request while lowering his hands to straighten his uniform.

Strangely, his spyglass staid in its outlook position fixed within his eye–socket? – It even moved like an eye!

'I see you've fixed your sights Sir... very good,' said Commander Coop, 'it's amazing what a brainless twat and some superglue can do these days?'

'Eh...?' tried General Ford.

'Nothing, Sir.'

'Speak up man, I can't hear you!' he demanded, 'must be that damn ear wax again – came down real bad back in 61?'

'I was simply suggesting, Sir,' replied Commander Coop more respectfully, 'that we are not actually sure at this point if they are rebels?'

'Very well then, Mr. Coop, do what you will with them,' he conceded, 'but I warn you, you and those men who found him will take his charge... or I will take your head should they desert.'

It was times like this when Commander Coop took General Ford seriously. That eye on the end of his spyglass wasn't really his. Nor, apparently, were several other parts that he had acquired over the years!

'Now then, how holds the line Mr. Coop,' continued General Ford, 'and what news of our enemy?'

'But of course, Sir,' replied Commander Coop swiftly before beckoning his Staff Sergeant to his side. Promptly, Officer Weasel unrolled a large map on the table, 'thank you Weasel – As you can see Sir, we lay here, west of the railway bridge which is located midway up the canyon side, securing passage across the valley, deep into the heart of the rebels camp – Our reason for being here I'll think you will agree. The enemy line is strong, Sir. Their trenches well built and well armed too. Attempting those lines would be a suicide mission if ever I saw one. And it seems that they themselves carry the same orders as we do, Sir.'

'Yes Mr. Coop, I am well aware that we are both here to secure the railway line, bridge and safe passage for our trains who ferry fresh supplies to Fort Mandalay. While, I might add, stopping the rebels' supplies from reaching Fort Brophy!'

'Actually, when it comes to orders I thought they were more along the lines of "rot in Hell" Sir?'

'Now you look here Mr. Coop,' fumed General Ford, 'I don't need silly remarks. But what I do need are results!'

'I'm sorry, Sir... results?' ventured Commander Coop cautiously.

'Yes damn it... results!' confirmed his General, 'what do you say to that, Mr. Coop?'

'What kind of "result" did you have in mind, Sir?'

General Ford's spyglass – Eye? –seemed to gaze upon them him cunning thought, 'for a time longer than I care to remember, we have been slugging it out up here with the enemy. Our boots have been worn by the scorched earth that we stand firm upon. But not once have I ever seen our colours standing high and proud upon the ridge of our enemies line. That, Mr. Coop, would be what you might call a "result".'

'Sorry, Sir, you seem to have lost me?' replied Commander Coop wearily, 'is there a war going on or something that I should be aware of?'

There was a good reason why Commander Coop had died in the war. But apparently, it had nothing to do with actually fighting one?

'Mr. Coop,' began General Ford with a bright smile upon his rotted face, 'by sunset – and I don't care how you do it – your Staff Sergeant will be holding our flag over that fine ridge deep within the enemy's line, understand?'

'You mean...?' prompted Commander Coop unsteadily.

'Yes...'

'But doesn't that mean that I would...?'

'Oh yes, Mr Coop, yes indeed.'

'Ah...?'

'Do I make myself absolutely clear, Mr. Coop?'

He chose his next words with extreme care, 'you git!' He tried again, 'Yes, Sir.'

'Good!' roared General Ford before turning back to gaze across the field of battle below, 'oh, and one more thing before you depart, Mr. Coop...'

'Yes, Sir?'

'Look alive... you're an officer after all.'

'Come, Weasel,' conceded Commander Coop while begging his General's leave, 'we have some deserting – I mean work to do.'

Outside, Commander Coop marched furiously to the rattle of his stiff corpse. His Staff Sergeant, Officer Weasel, tried desperately to keep up.

'Just what does that old fool think he's doing?' said Commander Coop, 'God, he's even more intolerable in death than in life. At least in the living I could have shot the old bugger! You know, Weasel, this could seriously see the end of us,' he complained bitterly, 'does anyone even know why we are fighting anymore?' He sighed, 'well, I guess that there's nothing for it. We'll just have to nick the nearest camel stored to its humps with freshly baked crumpets and a box of Barry's Tea. With a bit of luck we might just make it across the sun scorched desert, holding on to nothing more than a fool's hope that the damn thing has an electrical socket for the kettle. And for your sake, Weasel, pray that it's not located somewhere south of the border.'

'But we must follow orders, Mr. Coop,' pleaded Officer Weasel with a sense of duty.

'That's Commander or Sir to you, Weasel,' said Commander Coop, 'only General Ford has the authority and audacity to refer to myself as other. Besides that, you're absolutely right. We'd never make it across the desert... not with your shoddy impression of a camel anyway.'

'I could do an impression of a horse if you'd prefer, Sir?' replied Officer Weasel sincerely.

'More like an Ass if you ask me,' replied Commander Coop, who as it happens was also being sincere, 'let's face it, Weasel, the thought of having to mount you is enough to make me sick. I'd rather face the pleasure of Sergeant Hang's noose before spending the night with you... out there.'

'Well in that case, Sir, may I suggest using some of the more undesirable men at your command for this "peculiar" problem?'

'Damn it man, just what is it now?' he asked, slightly horrified as to what his Staff Sergeant's reply might actually be, 'and please don't say what I think it is that you're going to say. Otherwise, I shall be forced to call you a git and smack you across the head with the back of my hand – at least what's left of it anyway?'

'Well, Sir,' began Officer Weasel while lifting the wide brim of his hat, 'by my limited understanding of orders; General Ford gives them to you; you give them to me and I to the men – Chain of Command, Sir.'

'Look Weasel, is there a point to all of this or shall I just go and find Sergeant Hang. Perhaps he can save me from having to listen to one of your insufferable rants?'

'Er... yes, Sir.'

'Well do you mind getting on with it? We haven't got all day you know. You heard General Ford, he wants you flying that blasted flag over yonder – which in case you haven't figured it out just yet – means that he wants me standing there beside you!'

'Precisely, Sir.'

'Let me get this straight – and feel free to correct me if I'm wrong – but you mean to tell me that your plan to get us out of this mess is to actually follow our orders?'

'Yes, Sir.'

'Before I ask – and trust me when I say that your answer better be good you git – you arrived at this how exactly?'

'On account that it's the logical thing to do, Sir.'

'Ah...?'

'Last thing anyone would expect, Sir,' he explained, 'my point being Sir that we send some men over, they do all the hard work and we step in afterwards as it were.'

Suddenly, Commander Coop came to a halt. It was the perfect crime for the perfect time!

'But who,' he thought, 'who could we send that would be foolish enough to fall for, dare I say it... such a cunning plan?'

'How about old one eye Jack?'

'Union member I'm afraid,' replied Commander Coop thoughtfully, 'perhaps Davy Crocket? God, even in the afterlife he never looked so good?'

'Unfortunately, Sir, his raccoon cap is a tad bit stubborn.'

'Yes, who would have thought that that damn thing would come back to life with him?'

'If only we had someone new to the political cunningness of these war–torn trenches?' thought Officer Weasel to himself aloud, 'someone–'

'...fresh, so to speak,' finished Commander Coop, his words lingering upon the sight of some relatively new recruits.

Unfortunately for Billy Jean Bad Leg and Sergeant Hang, they just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

'It's a terrible thing though, Sir,' said Officer Weasel finally, a tone of guilt exhaled upon his breath.

'Yes...' agreed Commander Coop, pausing in reflection for such a foul deed, 'but it is said that war has no fury... like two desperate gits and a cunning plan!'

Across a sea of sand, the repair work to Captain Silver's ship was well under way. But little did his crew know that they were being watched...

'Well what can you see?' asked Droc.

'A few broken sails, some doggy craftsmanship and one odd looking figurehead,' replied Samif, 'but by the looks of it there's no sign of any prisoners whatsoever?'

'Then it would seems that that sandstorm had brought down the pirate's ship too?' he said, hoping for a closer look over a ridge of sand, 'maybe they are being kept under guard somewhere below deck?'

'Not likely,' said Airtu, 'that hole in the ship's hull leads directly to the holding cells. They must have broken free somehow?'

'Blast, we'll never find them at this rate,' continued Samif, 'if it wasn't for that storm Shorty would still have the princess' scent. Not to mention that we wouldn't be wondering around under this baking sun like fools.'

The dragon – now affectionately known to some as "Shorty" – gave a slight grunt with displease.

'Well I guess it's lucky for us that we came across these pirates when we did,' said Droc reassuringly, 'though we may have lost or way – and admittedly forced to ground for cover – we may still be able to use this fortune to our advantage my mighty fellows?'

'How do you mean?' asked Earru.

'If I know pirates, they'll want to retrieve their investment before long,' he replied thoughtfully, 'we're both in need of the same outcome if you will. The only difference is that they should have a search pattern to follow once the ship is repaired.'

'And all we have to do is follow,' added Airtu.

'Precisely,' agreed Droc with excitement, 'in doing so, they will unknowingly lead us right to our companions. Thus, once again, Droc and his band of mighty fellows come to the rescue!'

'I don't know,' said Earru, 'we'll have to keep well out of sight. Those cannons seem far ranging to me? If we're not careful we could find ourselves in a tight spot of trouble – damn quick too.'

'Earru's right,' said Samif, 'if we're seen, all hope of reaching the others will be short lived?'

'Relax, I'm sure Shorty here could outrun that ship if it comes to it? All we have to do is stay well out of sight,' replied Droc, 'besides, if they had noticed us we'd know all about it by now. They'd surly come charging over this dune like a pack of stark raving savages, I can tell you.'

'More like they'd use those cannons if you ask me?' said Earru.

'Nonsense, we're well out of range,' he replied confidently, 'trust me, I think I know a ten–inch–two–footer–barrel when I see one.'

Boom!

A cannonball over shot its mark. Droc son of Oric's might fellows waited impatiently under a rain of sand. With a face full of earth, Samif gave his chief an oddly gaze. Perhaps it was time for a change in leadership – He could tell.

A breeze rippled through the shadows of a supple surface like calm waves upon the ocean. Its waters, the covering of canopy that secured cool shade form a harsh sun beyond. It was dark, save for a few beams of daylight that flowed with ease throughout the tent's worn surface of old. Its wooden floor, a stain of dry rot and stench of corpse, creaked under the sound of footsteps to the eerie jingle of spurs. Black boots, smothered of dust, moved slowly with each step a sense of pride in their stride. Halting suddenly, they swung sharply to the forefront as a voice of interrogating manner now took centre stage...

'Let's face it; we both know how this works. Traditionally, I am tasked with tearing you down; the world that you once knew and cherished existing no more. I am to make you think that there is no hope, you've reach the end of the line so as to build you up again. And when I've built you up, it is with safe assumption that I would have you right in the palm of my hands. The answers that I seek would be given freely and without the use of say; crude measurers – which I can assure you – I have taken a lifetime to acquire, if not more. Unfortunately, this I fear may lead me down a deep, dark and disturbing path of more... irrational methods of experimental practice–So let's just skip the formalities and get straight to the point, shall we?!' The spurs jingled and glistened in the sunlight as the figure stepped one pace forward. A hand, fashioned of rotted flesh, grasped the worn handle of an officer's sidearm, 'I'll only ask you once more,' said Commander Coop, 'if the song goes like this; ninety–nine bottles of beer on the wall, if one should fall... then there would be?'

He gestured for the appropriate response. Officer Weasel seemed confused?

'A need for a more stable wall...?'

'Now look here you git,' fumed Commander Coop, 'if you don't get this right I am going to shoot you in a place that most people would find rather uncomfortable – Unless of course... you happen to be from Tibet.'

'Yes, Sir,' replied Officer Weasel innocently.

'Right, once more from the top...'

'Sir!' yelled Sergeant Hang while begging permission to enter Commander Coop's quarters.

'Yes, what is it Sergeant?'

'The rebels, Sir?' replied Sergeant Hang, 'me and poor old Billy Jean out yonder reporting for duty, Sir – As best we could figure from them there orders you sent forth, Sir!'

'Ah, yes... good,' replied Commander Coop cunningly, 'and the new recruits?'

'Safe as a wee critter in Billy Jean's hands, Sir!'

Captain Coop paused. "Safe" wasn't the kind of word normally associated with Sergeant Hang and poor old Billy Jean Bad Leg?

'Don't tell me you've mistakenly hanged the poor buggers, have you?'

'No, Sir. Captain's order's "don't hang the gits just yet. If they don't co–operate I'll do it my bloody self" Sir.'

'Ah, that sounds like me alright. Charmingly honest with a degree in D.I.Y thrown in for good measure,' replied Commander Coop before dismissing his Staff Sergeant, 'that's enough for now, Weasel—Oh, and make sure to remind me to shoot you later.'

'Yes, Sir!'

'Could you show our guests in, Sergeant?—The door that is, not your noose...'

Somehow, Sergeant Hang felt cheated.

Billy Jean Bad Leg march into his Commander's quarters accompanied by the new recruits. By the looks of it, they didn't really seem to have a choice. Let's just say that if poor old Billy Jean's rifle was any closer, it wouldn't be the bullet that would actually kill them.

'Yes, alright put your weapons away men,' said Commander Coop with ease, 'let's at least try to keep this civilised, shall we?' He approached the recruits warmly, 'now then, what brings you lot to Fort Charley? AKA – the greatest lost battalion of gits since the invention of a pedal–powered wheelchair. Or shall we get straight to the point? The men want to have you hanged. Personally, I agree.' Well, when it came to Commander Coop it was as about as civilised as you would get. 'However, there is an alternative,' he continued, 'General Ford has kindly granted you an enlistment. Under his instructions you are to be placed in my command. As part of your basic training you will be leading the Big Push. You're going over the Top old cum, a luxury afternoon slugging it out on the battle field, compliments of yours truly.'

'We did not come here to fight a war,' replied Estaru sternly, 'and our path is of our own concern least yours.'

'We don't have to stand for this,' said Zack, 'surely there is something that we can do?'

'What do you suggest?' he asked.

'You could take them,' hinted Suzan, 'they're just barely flesh and bone?'

'And I maybe small but we dwarves can fight like beast,' added Morku.

'But I doubt that any of you can out run a bullet,' replied Estaru, 'so unless you have an alternative in mind, I suggest that you keep your will of heart to yourself... least for the time beginning.'

Cara, however, felt that some good old fashion diplomacy was needed, 'if you think that we're going to depended on your crazy leadership – let alone fight some war for you – you have another thing coming. So step aside and make some room Mister, because this sister is coming through!'

Well, it was more of a hostile takeover really. But Commander Coop knew a thing or two about that.

'Now look here you lot,' he replied sharply, 'I don't care who you are or what's going on in that small world of yours. There are only two things that you can depend on in life – death and odd socks. It's either you or me, Missy!' he dared, 'General Ford has somehow gotten it into his thick skull that we are actually going to start fighting this war – I know, it's crazy; someone could get seriously hurt. So I do this for the sake of my fellow countrymen – but more importantly for myself when I say... I can live with odd socks!' With some encouragement, his Colt pistol clicked into readiness, 'I won't lie to you,' he continued, 'the chances of your survival are as about as much as an over inflated water balloon hoping to survive the pending onslaught of a machete. But let me assure you that it's a damn sight better than if you don't.'

'But this war has nothing to do with us,' said Suzan, 'and you have a whole army at your command?'

'To the first part of your question I say; what of it?' replied Commander Coop calmly, 'and to the second...sod off!'

'But you're undead?' tried Morku.

'Precisely, and judging from my previous experience as you can imagine, I have no intention of doing it all over again. Now if you don't mind... you haven't got all day.' He retrieved an old pocket–watch from his coat pocket, its hands of time immortalised at precisely two–forty–four pm. He shook it, hoping for noon. It didn't work, 'right, that's it,' he continued embarrassingly, 'I guess we'll just have to do this the old fashion way; sit back and relax with a freshly brewed cuppa... while some twat stick his head over the trench to get shot first.'

Bang ?! – "Ah, bugger... not again?!"

Clearly, it was noon.

'That should do it... Sergeant, you know what to do.'

'Aye, Sir!' replied Sergeant Hang, giving Billy Jean the signal to move the new recruits into line, 'stand to men!'

'Oh, it's fightin' time for poor old souls as sure as hot stew by the fireside,' remarked Billy Jean with excitement, firing a shot into the air, 'I'm a comin' boys' – Smack?! – A wooden beam fell from above, hitting him over the head with vengeance. It wasn't part of the plan, but he played his part... lying cold on the floor.

Captain Coop threw his sight to the heavens. What else could he do?

Officer Weasel now began to heave open the covers of the command post. From beyond the decayed back of Commander Coop the rage of a great civil war now erupted. And the air was alight with the roar of cannons and rifles set upon those fool–hearty who charged without heed. But in the distance white supple clouds rose to the hiss of a steam train's timely whistle.

'Right, listen up you lot!' roared Commander Coop above the rush of many soldiers, 'this is the pathway to war. I can assure you that unlike the Wizard of Oz, any yellow bricks you may find along its route should be approached with due caution. One rather long stick – preferable made of titanium – a goofy egg timer and a change of underwear capable of withstanding the might of a Atomic Bomb. But most important of all... some other git who will accidently step on it for you.' He began to pace back and forth, 'at precisely noon every day a steam train carrying much need supplies to our fellow companions yonder, attempts to follow the railway line that runs right through the heart of the enemy's camp. Your orders are to take the camp by force. Don't even think about using it as your golden thicket out of here. Sergeant Hang and Billy Jean Bad Leg will be accompanying you to ensure that you complete your task.' He halted in his tracks, standing proud and firm, 'any questions...?' – Boom! – A cannonball struck nearby, '...good,' he finished wearily as a skeleton leg made a bid for freedom?

Promptly, its owner hopped into action, "damn ye deserter, I'll have ye hanged I tell ye—–hanged!'

Commander Coop cleared his throat, feeling that a final few words of encouragement were needed, 'and that I believe is how you say... go break a leg.'

Chapter 12

The Perfect Crime

The cry of many brave soldiers rushed down the road to war. Soon a blackened cloud of gunpowder would fade, its lingering tip sliced by a spear of liberty, the rippling surface of a war–torn flag. And out from the darkness came a band of faithful brothers; those lost to another time and place. Enter the field of battle... but fortunately for some, they had a train to catch.

'Are you crazy?!' panicked Cara, Billy Jean Bad Leg and Sergeant Hang forcing her along an old wooded platform as the steam train prepared to make its arrival, 'we need reinforcements – Call the President – Send in the Marines,' she yelled, 'someone get me a direct line to my Agent!'

'Time's of short, missy,' said Sergeant Hang, 'this here Colt suggest that you best keep moving.'

When it came to a Colt negotiations were usually short – So were there out comes.

Promptly, she decided to protest in a co–operative manner. Besides, her ticket had already been purchased.

Reluctantly, she snapped it from the boned hand of the Station Master, 'fine, but if anything happens to me, I'll have you know that some actors would pay top dollar just to do my voiceover.' Swiftly she was dragged aside, her voice unwillingly fading in the background as Sergeant Hang apologised – 'I could have been an international superstar!' – with a weak smirk of embarrassment.

Now, a line of weary passengers took note of the train's arrival, its wheels of iron screeching in their lock. Out from the rising steam marched Sergeant Hang, popping open the end door of the rear carriage before boarding in a timely fashion. Soon to follow was Billy Jean and some relatively new recruits.

As the train departed, out from a falling cloud of steam beyond the far end of the platform, the shadowed outline of a vessel squeaked upon its wheels? Captain Wide Front Silver stood proud and firm upon its bow. Behind, his First Mate pushed a lever up and down, giving motion to the craft's sluggish rotation of wheel.

Apparently, the short straw was all too common in his line of work. However, the chase was but a foot. Slowly... the vessel squeaked on some more.

Wisely, the Station Master closed up shop. Besides, a rebel's flag hung from the end of that departing train just now didn't seem right?

Sergeant Hang moved to a crate that lay in the centre of the carriage, motioning to Billy Jean for his assistance in lifting its lid open. He promptly gave a hand without question – his entire forearm to be precise!

Using Billy Jean's forearm as a makeshift crowbar, Sergeant Hang lifted its lid. It took a few false starts – Crack? – and some broken fingers. Out from the cover of darkness came the glint of weaponry.

'Now listen up you lot cause I ain't none the time to say this twice,' yelled Sergeant Hang above the rattling of the train, 'Commander Coop's orders – weapons to be given or returned to you here recruits once on board; couldn't take the chance on you bailing out on us before then.' He now made his way to the top of the carriage, opening its end door before venturing out into the open air. Upon the outer platform he stepped into the next carriage. Once inside, he froze awkwardly... Apparently, they seemed to have boarded the wrong train?!

Yes, before him, running along either side of the carriage was a line of rebel soldiers! – Something needed to be done? Striking the first soldier to hand seemed like the fairest thing to do. They could clam a refund on their ticket price later.

'Now is our chance!' yelled Estaru, shoulder to shoulder in a scuffle of rags and bones, 'if we can reach the locomotive there may be a chance to steer our own course before it's too late!'

'Come on,' agreed Suzan, 'what are you waiting for... move!'

On they raced, pushing their way past many soldiers who wrestled with the next – some strangely enough, who wrestled with themselves? However, Sergeant Hang and poor old Billy Jean would soon give chase, keen not to let their recruits' desert so soon.

Bang! – A rebel fell to the floor?

When it came to Billy Jean's shooting skills at least it was something – Click?! – but there was always Sergeant Hang's Colt that you could count on.

'Blast, always the hard way!' he said, the rebel soldier hindering his shot.

'Damn it Serge, somethings wrong with them living folk if you ask me?' said Billy Jean, 'yes sir, as sure as your wife's cooking.'

Sergeant Hang couldn't agree more. His wife's cooking was a subject matter best left unsaid.

Outside, Estaru jammed the door, urging Zack and Suzan to make their way atop of the carriage with the aid of a roof ladder. Beneath a veil of creamy–white smoke they dashed across the rooftops, hoping to reach the locomotive as the train began to wined its body about the canyon's waist, climbing higher and higher, a far into the final frontier.

'There's no use Serge,' moaned poor old Billy Jean, 'they've done wrong by us; real good too if ever I've known it.'

'Commander Coop won't be none too pleased about this,' replied Sergeant Hang, trying to pry the door open – Snap? – Billy Jean's fingers were beginning to run short... If only there was another way?

In the corner of their eyes a door at the far end of the carriage swayed loosely. Billy Jean had tried to point it out earlier, but at the time his hands were preoccupied.

Estaru reached the locomotive. Popping down from above, he quickly disposed with a rather small bag of bones. The driver really wasn't much else!

'Hey, where is the kid?' asked Cara, trying to catch her breath as she joined him.

'Just stick to the plan, as will they.'

'Plan... since when did we have a plan?!'

But Estaru paid no heed to the fairy, eyeing the many locomotives' controls, the track ahead and a brightly burning fire fuelled of coal behind him. Truly he was at a loss?

'Any suggestions,' asked Cara, 'or would this be a good time to dial 911?'

'You can start by keeping this here fire burning brightly,' said a voice, 'it's been the heart of this fair train for some odd years, I guess? It doesn't make good sense to go changing that now, eh?'

An old train engineer stepped out from the shadow. He was armed with a shovel... and some brittle teeth.

Cara braced herself; those gums looked dangerous.

'I ain't mean you no harm,' he continued, 'I just shovel some – It's the job, I figures – never did know when to quit.'

'Then no harm shall come to you, my friend,' replied Estaru, 'but we must change our course.'

'Course... why there ain't no changing course, stranger?' he replied, 'there ain't no other line. This here is what you might be inclined to call a one way ticket.'

He had a point, after all, it was written on the small print of their ticket.

Atop of the train's carriages Zack tried to fend them off the ill rot of undead soldiers who now followed. But soon he would be out numbered, divided by a wall of bone from Suzan and Morku who trailed behind. With choice all but few, he came to a screeching halt. It seemed now that there was nothing he could do?

The wall of bone closed in – Snatch?! – Suddenly, a coach mailbag hook swung him wildly throughout the air.

Apparently, it was the express line.

Across the air he flew, out over the cannon's edge as it rushed beneath his feet before finally being released upon the opposite side of the boned wall. Unsteady in his landing, he came now to a sudden halt beside Suzan, relieved for his lucky escape.

Click?! – 'Gotcha, you wee critter!'

To be fair, Sergeant Hang felt that Billy Jean could have pushed his rifle closer. An inch to a shot like his was like giving a mile – Click! – He would have to settle for his revolver too.

'Do you know what the penalty is when it comes to deserting?' he asked, allowing the aid of his Colt to suggest the answer. But neither Zack nor Suzan would dare reply. Instead their sight began to shift somewhere beyond Sergeant Hang's revolver?

Slowly, the Magical Lock covered its eyes as Morku began to kneel? – Thud! – They never saw it coming. But poor old Billy Jean and Sergeant Hang would never forget that damn tunnel again.

'There must be a way?' said Estaru.

'No, Sir,' replied the engineer, 'the only way is up the side of this here canyon.'

'And this here canyon leads to...' prompted Cara worriedly.

'Well I...' tried the engineer before pausing for a moment, 'Well I, I don't quite recall now that you come to mention it? Why in all my years of eternity and some – heck, even when I was a youngling kicking and breathing – we never made it to no destination as such?'

'Come again?'

'Well you see,' he began, 'it's largely due to them there cannons and what not up yonder – Rattles your bones some too!'

Estaru and Cara slowly began to turn around. Beyond the daylight of the tunnel "Them there cannons and what not" were fast approaching – Boom! – A little too fast.

'Hit the brakes,' screeched Cara, desperately fidgeting with any instrument close to hand, 'would you ever stop shoveling?!'

'Sorry,' replied the engineer, trying greatly to resist the temptation that was to fuel the fire, 'it just doesn't seem natural by my reckoning, that's all?'

'Never mind that,' yelled Estaru, grasping a set of levers to his left, 'just pull whatever you can...hurry!'

'Oh, I told you we should have purchased a rail guide!' she fumed hysterically. After all, a track lined with dynamite was sure to be a point of interest for would–be commuters, wasn't it?

The darkness only lasted for a moment. The sound of great iron wheels echoed loudly with the passing of the tunnel, before the light of day broke once more.

'That was pushing it a bit close, don't you think?' cringed Suzan, her cheeks covered in soot as she lay face down upon the carriage rooftop.

'You can say that again,' said Zack, daring a glance beyond the rooftop, 'come on, it looks like we're in the clear?'

Oddly, the sound of cannon fire echoed throughout the air? – Boom! – A lone scrap of wood hissed with trails of dark smoke, falling at their feet in a furious spin. Apparently, the carriage behind had just exploded?!

'Ach, and to think that I paid First Class for this?' said the Magical Lock, the rooftop beginning to quake uneasily beneath them.

All eyes shifted uneasily...The roof caved in!

Zack clawed his way through a heap of rubble, gazing upon the edges of the broken ceiling above in disbelief. Two his left, Morku's feet wiggled upright. To his right, Suzan seemed unimpressed – He could tell.

Dusting himself off, he attempted to stand. However, a dozen rifles, two lengthily pistols and a half rotted corpse had other intentions?!

The train rushed through the darkness of another tunnel. Cue one orderly punch–up!

Daylight broke harsh and fast through the rushed opening of a carriage end door. Zack and Suzan stumbled out to the sound of brawling soldiers unaware of their leave. Swiftly, they ventured among the ruins of the next carriage. And the wheels of the train thundered forth, slicing the fuse of dynamite which lay before it. Its force was devastating, and in its rise a carriage was torn from its track. Weeping with debris and ends set alight, it tumbled through the air. Zack could almost feel the loom of its shadow as it crashed down before him. Narrowly, it missed Suzan as she rushed beneath its fall for cover, crushing everything in its path before at last it tumbled over the canyon's edge. But it was not without price. In its rage it dragged many carriages with it, as one by one they toppled over the edge to that of the next – the train severed midway in its length!

Zack and Suzan reach out to the lifeless grasp of air. The fate of their carriage was no different. Down it plunged!

Through clouds of dust, heavy in fall and slow to part, a line of torn carriages hung uneasily over the side of the canyon's edge. Finally bringing the train's locomotive to an ease, Cara and Estaru swiftly made their way to the wreckage with not a moment to lose. Suzan and her companions seemed fine, but there was to be no sign of Zack? Had he survived? Trapped perhaps, somewhere within the wreckage below?

'Zack...' cried Suzan, 'are you alright?!' She leaned over the edge, her sight desperately searching the carriages below, 'we have to help him – he's still down there!'

But the iron beast did begin to slip and Estaru was forced to heave her away to safety, 'there's nothing you can do for him now,' he tried, 'stay back you fool!'

'No, I won't leave him,' she pleaded, 'we can still help!'

'You must; he would not wish you to share in his fate!'

There was nothing she could do. There was nothing that anyone could do.

'I can't believe it,' gasped Cara, 'he's gone... he's really gone?'

'Ach, brave a wee kid if ever there was. Ah'll not forget him so easily.'

But Suzan could not find words to express how she felt. In the moments of silence that followed she was simply lost.

'Look's like you'll be needing to climb down if ever you're going to find your friend?' said the engineer calmly, appearing just behind Estaru while gazing over his shoulder to see what all the fuss was about, 'such a task doesn't bear standing much in the way of thought. But I have to admit, it's been one hell of a journey – never made it this far before with half a train left?' He eyed the wreckage below, 'of course, there's always the chance the wee youngling made it to that cave down yonder?'

'Cave...?' asked Suzan, 'What cave––tell me?!'

'Sure,' he replied with ease, 'why if you got yourself to that fine ridge of rock down some... ain't no reason why a man couldn't make it?' He kicked a rock over the edge, watching it as it fell to its death, 'anyway, I got some rope out back if you want try?'

'Well, what are we waiting for,' cried Cara, 'come on, let's get this show back on the road!'

Suzan's eyes met with Estaru's. It was a long way down and he didn't like heights all that much. But it seemed that she gave him little choice.

'And that is your account, Sir,' asked General Ford, quite baffled by Commander Coop's report, 'to the fullest and unquestionable truth so help you God?'

'Yes, Sir,' he replied, glancing down the length of his decade body which now lay suspiciously covered throughout in fresh wound–clot, 'I did advance upon the enemy with utmost integrity. In my darkest hour I rose forth from the earth like a Meerkat quivering in the face of Hell. But no matter the darkness, unwilling to neither coward nor leave valiant brother of arms behind, I bodily pressed on. And like David and Goliath, I would cast my stone at precisely the right moment. And I did say, "Weasel, with moments such as this it is only natural to express emotion for close camaraderie before our end. So it will come as no surprise when I say...sod off you annoying git!" Then I shot him, Sir.'

'You shot him?'

'Yes, Sir... they, shot him,' he quickly restated, 'Alas in my rage – of fallen brother – I did charge the field of battle most untimely. Thus, Sir, my part in the Big Push had come to its end. Though I wished to go on... I could do no more.'

'Outstanding,' gasped General Ford, 'it is absolutely outstanding that given your condition, you still managed to place our flag atop of the enemy's ridge?'

'Flag, Sir?' asked Commander Coop worriedly.

'Why yes, the flag,' he replied firmly, 'you did follow orders did you not, Mr. Coop?'

'But, Sir, I...'

'You do know what the penalty is for blatantly disobeying orders do you not?'

'Yes, of course, Sir,' he replied weakly, 'but if I could explain the importance of being killed in action, I'm sure you will...'

'Explain not, Mr. Coop,' fumed General Ford, 'damn it man, did you or did you not place our flag upon the enemy's ridge?!'

This was it; Commander Coop would have to think fast.

'No, Sir...'

General Ford frowned deeply...'oh well, it can't be helped,' he said cheerfully, 'I'm sure there will be plenty of other chances to give them a good trashing, eh old chap?'

'But of course, Sir, no doubt that is why we are still slugging it out here, I suspect.'

'Quite right, Mr. Coop, quite right,' he replied unmindfully, 'now then, gentlemen, I would like to turn our attention to this new recruit business – They've done a runner, you say?'

'Yes, Sir... lost after the wreckage.'

'And poor old Billy Jean and that of his Sergeant?'

'Officer Weasel,' prompted Commander Coop, his Staff Sergeant unraveling a piece of paper before him.

'Sir, yes, Sir...' began Officer Weasel efficiently, 'to date, items deemed to be the sole property of the United Government are as such; one forearm, a well used pair of denture's and a unusual leg attached to the end of a walking stick, Sir.'

'And to whom exactly do they belong to?' asked Commander Coop.

'Can't rightly say, Sir? But Johnny Wood Knee as shotgun on the denture's if they are not claimed from the Lost & Found within twenty–four hours – I quite like the leg myself.'

'Thank you, Weasel,' replied Commander Coop wearily, 'as usual I rise this morning only to find that you're still here.'

'Why that's might kind of you, Sir.'

'Alright, that's enough,' interrupted General Ford, 'I'm sure that with their fine soldiering skills they will no doubt turn up at some point or other.'

'Several points,' said Commander Coop boldly.

'I could have some of the men search the native camps, if you'd like?' suggested Officer Weasel.

'Yes...' replied Commander Coop disinterestedly, 'perhaps the contents of a vulture's stomach may overturn some clues as to their whereabouts, I'm sure.'

'It's settled then,' stated General Ford delightedly, 'have your Staff Sergeant give one of those vermin's a good old rogering. But come now, something needs to be done about this whole deserting business?'

'I'm sorry, Sir?'

'You know, Mr. Coop; chase them down like the scoundrels they are – a good hanging I should think?!' stated General Ford firmly, 'We can't have the men believing that they can just simply leg it, now can we? If we aloud that short of thing, why all Chain of Command would come crashing down – Total chaos! – and we wouldn't be very good at our jobs if that was to happen, now would we?'

'Sorry, did you say "Chain of Command" or... something to that effect, Sir?'

'That he most definitely did, Sir,' confirmed Officer Weasel, 'like when I told you about our brilliant plan to avoid going over the top, only...'

'Yes alright, just shut up Weasel,' swiftly interrupted Commander Coop, 'unless, of course, you would prefer to be struck across the back of your head by a short hand?'

'What hand...'

Smack!

'That one...'

'I'm sorry, what was that?' asked General Ford.

'Nothing much, Sir,' replied Commander Coop while lowering his hand, 'I was merely showing Officer Weasel how the simple rules of Chain of Command work. Weasel has a thought,' he suggested, 'and it's struck down by his brain.'

'But, Sir...'

Smack!

'Hand in point, I think you will agree.'

'Very good,' replied General Ford, 'but that doesn't solve our problem? Someone must hang. Face the firing squad. Rations halved... perhaps even just bread and water?'

'Forgive me, Sir, but I think that you will find that we only ever have bread and water. Face a firing squad of up to thirty–thousand or more ever moment of the day. And most of the men would give their right arm and a wad of cash, just to be hanged so as not to see another day slugging it out in the trenches – And that, Sir, was when we were alive,' said Commander Coop, 'Punishment, as such, only brings the phrase; a bugger... not again, to mind? Indeed, Sir, if you were to simply bring them back after a sort taste of freedom that would be a deterrent in its self. Call me crazy and hang my socks out to dry, but I'd rather prance around out there wearing nothing more than a pair of cheap underwear over my head, than spend another second in this Hell's damnation.'

'Boy George you've got it, Mr. Coop!' yelled General Ford delightedly.

'I have, Sir...?'

It seemed that it may have been a cunning delight?

'Well it's like you said, Mr. Coop,' he explained, 'we'll hunt them down if just to bring them back... genius!'

'Ah...?'

'Why that is just the kind of sprite we are looking for around here,' continued General Ford deviously, 'daring, brave and damn right bordering on the disobedient – There's simply no other for the job!'

The Commander's jaw dropped, 'Job?' Officer Weasel held it in place.

'Yes, Mr. Coop... job,' confirmed General Ford, 'It's quite simple really; your Staff Sergeant will go in search of those rascals and bring them back to me.'

'And by "your Staff Sergeant" I take it that you mean that I should be standing next to him... out there?'

'But of course not, Mr. Coop,' he replied reassuringly, 'I think that you will find in most formal armaments, that it is your Staff Sergeant whom should be standing by your side. Why to suggest otherwise would be of insult to a man of your ranking.'

'So I see...' thought Commander Coop, 'but if we are to hunt these rascals down – as you say – wouldn't that mean...?'

'Oh yes, Mr. Coop, bravely daring the lines of no–man's–land, venturing beyond the wreckage that was once an iron beast, and a far beyond the enemy camp to none other than the road to Mandalay.'

'You mean Fort Mandalay, the Fort Mandalay... across the furthest reaches of any survival. A journey famously feared by the entire Military – that Fort Mandalay?'

'But of course,' replied General Ford playfully, 'now don't fret, Mr. Coop, you're bound to come across those rascals – sooner rather than later I hope. No doubt they will never make it that far; not with all the dangers that lay in wait out there. Heavens no! And you're the braver man for it, Mr. Coop. If only I were a younger? Oh the great thrill of youth we old chaps must sadly decline.'

'Naturally...' he painfully replied.

'Good, it's settled then,' he remarked before dismiss his brave Commander, 'very well, time is of sort – do carry on.'

'Of course, Sir,' replied Commander Coop, 'come on, Weasel, grab a pair of reins from the stable. It's time to see how good that shoddy impression of a horse of yours is?'

'Just one more thing before you leave, Commander,' added General Ford, 'since you are going to be passing the enemy camp... don't you think that this would be the perfect time to plant our flag as ordered?'

He wasn't asking. He wasn't joking either.

The swift unraveling of a rope drew down along the canyon's cliff face. Estaru lead the way to the harsh earth of the cave floor. With no sight of Zack, all was deathly quiet and his feelings told him greatly that something was amiss? They would need to remain unnoticed if he was to uncover its true meaning.

'Land!' cried Cara, marking the arrival of Suzan and Morku who soon followed, 'I'm sure glad that that's over,' she gave the line one last reassuring tug, 'you know, for a second there I didn't think it would hold?'

Slash?! – The rope whipped furiously to a distant depth.

'What in tarnation?!'

She paused awkwardly, daring not to look around – The engineer short past?!

Estaru didn't seem pleased, 'technically, he was one of the enemy, wasn't he?' she tried.

'Quiet,' he hissed, 'from this moment forth you need only worry of what I tell you to do, understand?'

'Why, what's wrong?' asked Suzan, 'what is it that you see?'

'It seems, my lady, not of what do I see but of not... is the question?' he replied while searching for a clue to aid his thought, 'However, one thing I am certain of is that your companion has passed this way... though he was not alone?'

'Zack,' she gasped, 'tell me what you see; what happened to him?!'

A grave look crossed Estaru's face, 'tracks,' he began, 'signs... as if the earth its self were alive, concealing with every breath all traces but few for aid of hunt? Something, that of yet, I have never seen before?' Estaru eyed the earth carefully, searching for more signs, 'he moved unknowingly this far at least. For a time he took shelter. Though after such, all traces of your companion are but gone?' Quickly he rose to his feet, 'we must go north for whoever followed did not wish to remain here?'

'He's in trouble, isn't he?' she said, 'it's my fault. I should have kept searching for him?'

'If you had, then you would not be in a position to help him when he needs you the most,' said Estaru, 'come, save your passion for later; we must move with haste. I fear that much danger may follow his every move...'

Zack lay unconscious. Dazed from the fall, he had wondered unknowingly deep into the cave. But as he lay within the darkness, a beastly being crossed his path, and it did snatch him from the earth?! When he came to he could not remember what had happened. He was lost in a dream like state, feeling as though he were merely floating above the earth beneath the scorch of the midday sun. Wearily, his head drifted to one side to where the wheel of cart rotated, and beyond, the proud movement of beings did walk in cover of shadow? But his eyes felt heavy. And so darkness to light and shadow to sun, time did begin to slip away once more. Slowly, his world fell into darkness once more...

Estaru rose from the earth, standing now overlooking a vast barren land of reddish soil. In the distance stretched the flattened peak of lone mountains, glorious beneath a clear blue sky. And slowly he did merge out from the canyon's cave, its walls looming overhead to the hold of rocky pillars as he stood atop of its opening to search the horizon. His scent for the hunt was growing stronger; wiser for those whom would conceal their movement. But they moved quickly. If he was still to follow, he could not afford to lose more time. With one last gaze across the earth he did beckoned Suzan and her companions onward, venturing down the canyon's side, deep into the unknown.

The boy had put his trust in him when all others would not. One way or another, he intended to repay his deed this day.

Chapter 13

The Gathering of Beastly Kings

Darkness... Zack woke to find himself laying upon a bed of rest. Slowly he rose, drawing his sight across an earth floor and the walls about him seemed like that of a cave? The gentle sway of a hide gave cover to its entrance. And though faint at first, for a moment he thought that he could almost hear the laugher of children playing outside? Slowly, he moved toward the hide, drawing back its cover ever so slightly. Outside, a dark eye set within a young beastly frown meet with his?

Calmly... they both jumped with a fright!

'What's going on?!' he yelled, fumbling backward as though feeling the need to find another way out, 'where is everybody?!' When suddenly he froze, carefully turning only to find the proud face of a lion towering above him? Its mane was large in crown of kingship, lined two one side with two feathers; white and black of tip. And its body was lean and masculine, clad only of a thin hide covering about its waist. Grasping a spear tightly, it did walk upright with lay of bow and quiver of arrow upon its back. And it did growl with a sense of curiosity, saying at last, 'feel not the need to fear for I am Kimchiku – Son of Lion Kin – and I give you peace.'

'What happed?' he tried weakly, daring to believe his sight, 'Where am I?'

'You are within the birth place of my people and our elders before us; Roaring Crest,' replied the beastly king, 'we found you lost within the pathways of Hollow Gap, weak of mind and strength of body. But how it is that one so young came to find one's self there, only you can truly answer... for I cannot.'

'The wreckage,' thought Zack, trying to recall just what had happened, 'we must have made it – but Suzie... what happened to Suzie?'

'You speak of your dreams, no?'

'Dreams...?'

'To whom you speak with in your sleep?' said the Man of Lion, 'Your friend you call for?'

'I'm... not sure?'

The Man of Loin Kin seemed puzzled, grunting in thought to himself, 'you are of strange kin young Blue Eye. Perhaps your wounds need extra care than first thought?' He beckoned Zack closer now, preparing to draw back the hide, 'come, the elders wait.'

'Elders...?'

'My father's people of old,' he replied, 'maybe they will be able to make sense of your coming, no?'

The warmth of day shone brightly now as Zack began to follow the beastly king. Outside, Kimchiku's village lay within a vast canyon valley, and above great platforms linked many caves together, giving home to all it seemed. But before him the pathway was lined of many beasts; warriors – both lion and lioness – who roared to the sound of beating drums and pounding of spears. And running playfully in–between all, young cubs did follow Zack's every move with sense of curiosity for his being.

'Why do you beat those drums like that?' asked Zack, 'What does it mean?'

'Curious young Blue eye, that you should seek to learn of our ways?' said Kimchiku, 'It is the path of spirits. My kin seek wisdom and guidance; a blessing for that which is soon to come.'

'Why, what is going to happen?' he asked nervously.

'Rest assured young Blue Eye,' replied the Man of Lion, 'you of all will soon come to know of its meaning.'

Zack didn't like where this was going, but Kimchiku would say no more. With little choice but to follow, Zack continued on. Ahead he could now see the tip of a hut rising out from the crowd. And soon all would part for the coming of their great elder; the one true beastly King with mane of grey and crowned of fathers. And the King did seem fierce in prowl atop of a flattened form of rock, roaring with the strength to command the silence of all as Zack and Kimchiku arrived now before his throne.

'Wa chi cha kumrua, tha wa sayuo kimchiku tao eo wa chi imecha tao – Do we really have to do this every time that some stranger comes along, kimchiku?'

'His kingship says, that I Kimchiku, are to be your council of gathering,' said Kimchiku, 'If you accept this offer you must not speak until such a time as you are asked. But be warned, if you break this law your fate will become shorter than first I had hoped, young Blue Eye.'

'But I thought that you came in peace?' asked Zack.

'I maybe in favour of you,' he replied in a quiet tone, 'but the others... well?'

'Soa wa chichi... eam Toronto dista wa chi moyo ku chi wa ya – Do you mind hurrying things along... my back is killing me with this ridiculous outfit!' interrupted the beastly king grumpily.

'Be still,' warned Kimchiku, 'I am to remind you that the gathering has already begun – Gi so mea tamo wa – Alright, I get the point.'

'Yu ku chi soma tao uchi – Next time you can be the chief.'

'Sama so il chi tamo ka – At least I wouldn't wine like a sissy,' road Kimchiku proudly before turning to face Zack once more, 'I have told his kingship that you have agreed, and it is my honor to council you.'

'Sama so... nikki o chi tatanka no e chi wa ne chichi owa! – Sissy... I was changing your nappies before you ever became a brave; and you wined like a sissy all the time!'

'Kuma so chi wa e santo wa sum – Now I change yours old man.'

The crowd roared with laughter. Zack had no idea as to what was happening?

'Tayo mea chi wa cu soso e wa ku – Just wait till your mother hears about this.'

'Chucha, chucha... bacha somo antao wa chi mea, ea? – Okay, okay... let's just get on with this?'

'Tu ea! – Fine!'

'Good,' finished Kimchiku at last, saying, 'it seems young Blue Eye, that you have broken the oldest laws of my people. You did walk among the path our fathers' souls. As price you must choose from one of two fates – To remove the sins of your soul, the first is that he must rip out your heart while you still bread.'

'And the second?' feared Zack.

'He must then eat it.'

'Good,' he yelled, 'how is this good?!'

Kimchiku paused for a moment, 'did I say good?' he replied unsurely, 'I meant... not good.'

'You have to tell him I didn't know!' pleaded Zack.

'That does not make it any less sinful,' replied Kimchiku.

'Sinful? – How could I have committed a sin if you found me unconscious?' he asked suspiciously.

'Ha, ha... to mako e chi wa nichi so?' mocked the beastly King much to Kimchiku's annoyance – Ha, ha... he is not as stupid as you look, eh?'

Embarrassedly, Kimchiku attempted to translate, 'his kingship says that you were sleepwalking,' he awkwardly replied, 'therefore you must pay the price even if it was unintended.'

On short notice, it was the best that he could do.

'Are you sure that he said that?' asked Zack even more suspiciously.

Understandably, not wishing to discuss the matter any further, Kimchiku swiftly replied in question, 'his kingship would also like to know as to what your name is, young Blue Eye?'

'Zack, my name is Zack,' he said hastily, 'and I did not know of any law to break – how could I?'

The beastly King seemed surprised; this young boy was turning out to be as stubborn as his son. More importantly, however, 'Z–a–c–k?' he tried, 'Ami namo e chi wa ka? – Z–a–c–k... what kind of name is that?'

'Tosuma fou, chi sum... Zack? – Four letters, one name... Zack?'

'Eo busama so tishta – I like Blue Eye instead.'

'Tio soma chi wa Sebaschiano?' replied Kimchiku bemusedly, 'He says that it is a good name – Strong – Warrior... Good.'

Zack couldn't quite put his finger on it, but somehow he wasn't so sure?

'Look, I don't know what's going on here but I apologise if I broke your law,' he began, 'I'm not form here. I came from the stars, I guess? – Another world – You must believe me?!'

The tribe gasped for such words, the kingly beast moving closer with eyes set deep in puzzlement, 'maybe I was wrong...' he said to Kimchiku, 'he's as crazy as you are?'

'Hey, you can...?' began Zack, puzzled as to the elder's sudden use of his language.

'You came from where?' tried Kimchiku even more puzzled than he.

'If your mother hears about this we'll never live it down,' finished his father...'

'What is going on here,' roared the voice of true authority, Kimchiku's mother Queen Lioness Somichi, 'and who is responsible for this gathering dare I ask?'

Zack folded his arms while both father and son swiftly pointed the finger of blame at each other – Clearly, the game was up!

'Must I tell you once more; this is not how we treat guest of our kingdom,' continued Kimchiku's mother while approaching, her husband aimlessly looking about with an air of innocents. 'Do not worry young cub for we mean you no harm,' she said, 'I am Lioness Somichi, Queen of my people and serve only a mere husband least King of all.' She gave her husband a pair of haunting eyes – he dared not disagree, 'come, for our braves have had good hunting. We shall feast this night, learning of each other's ways with dance and song and stories by firelight for all to hear. Spend time with my people, and allow your wounds and mind to heal for as long as it may take.' She leaned closer, 'besides, I think that there is someone whom you ought to meet?'

Out from Lioness Somichi's hut stepped that of an elderly man. Only one name came to Zack's mind... Professor Clayton?!

A ghostly imprint slowly formed upon the earth. Estaru knew that the trail was warm; whomever he followed was close – he could feel it. However, something about this trail still worried him, and his mind would not rest until he knew why?

'If I were wiser the man,' he thought to himself aloud, 'I would have to say that there is not just one set of tracks... but two?'

'Perhaps in our haste we have overlooked our true path,' said Morku, 'however, I do not have the eye for such ways as you do.'

'Ach, we're lost,' said the Magical Lock, 'we'll never find Zack now?'

'No, we are not misguided,' replied Estaru sternly, 'this is the right course?' He examined the trail once more, 'here, the sand shifts as though a ghostly sneak with tail loose at end.' He pointed to a second set of markings, 'this is but the same, except more and more does it begin to form with intersecting lines?'

'I can't see anything,' said Suzan impatiently, 'I just hope Zack is alright; surely we must be close by now?'

'That is what troubles me,' said Estaru, 'from last I could tell, we should be no less than an hour behind. But these markings... they make little sense to me?'

'Great,' moaned Cara, 'for all we know we've probable been running around in an endless circle, chasing our own shadows?!'

'It is not us who have circled,' he warned, pausing for a moment to consider the simplicity of his thought, 'could it be that the hunter has become the hunted?' Quickly, he drew his blade, 'take care for we are not alone my friends... they come for us!'

'Who,' asked Suzan worriedly, 'what has you so startled?!'

'Sand Raiders... and we are its prey!' he said, 'whatever happens, do not try to reason with them for it will be your undoing.'

Suddenly, the earth rose up before him. And the ghostly form of hand before head and torso did reveal its self within a swirling cloud of sand. Sand Raiders, creatures of the earth with bodies wrapped within torn lengths of cloth, now began to harden to that of stone.

'We are those born of this earth,' said a haunting voice, 'the sands of time our Creed and birth of right... and thee shall go no further!'

'What do we do?!' cried Suzan, somewhat startled by the sight of these strange sand beings.

'Stand your ground,' said Estaru, his blade yearning to strike, 'and do not give them reason to sense fear in your heart.'

Nervously, Cara swallowed a rather large bubble of air, 'I've got a lot of pain in my church right now,' she screeched, 'so you go right ahead and do your thing; just show me where Johnny Cochran is at first – know what I'm saying?'

The Creed came swift, a crescent blade of rock slicing through the air. Estaru was sure that he had struck the first to come. However, it simply vanished within an air of cloud only to reform elsewhere?

Thud!

Suzan Screamed.

Coldly, his world went dark!

Zack could not believe his eyes, 'Professor, I thought that I would never see you again?' he said, 'The storm? The shipwreck... how did you survive?'

'Upon the graceful wings of fate my dear boy,' replied Professor Clayton with a smile, 'and ever since I have searched this earth far and wide in hope of finding you.' His words were sincere now as he spoke, 'in my darkest hour I have committed a great wrong. I used that of innocents to conceal the ill lure of my hearts weakness and desire. Consumed by a madness I cannot explain nor care to ever portray again, I put many life's in grave danger – you most of all. But I can only ask for your forgiveness and hope to feel your embrace. I am sorry, my boy... truly I am.'

Zack's heart filled with warmth. The professor that he had come to know and love was at last his self, and he did so embrace his return, 'I'm glad to see you again Professor.'

'As am I, my boy... as am I,' he replied with joy, 'but come, our joy of renewed friendship and tales of venture must wait. I am afraid that there are some rather pressing issues that require my full attention.'

'But Professor... what's going on?' asked Zack, 'I mean, where are we? How did we get here?'

'My intention to travel to the Bermuda's was not one of mere observation,' he replied, bidding Lioness Somichi good day before beginning to walk among the Men of Lion Kin, 'it was in fact to discover a portal – a gateway to a new world if you will – and the crystal that I had safeguarded was to be its key. Assuming that my calculations were indeed correct, we have travailed a great distance, from one star to another; perhaps even beyond far reaching galaxies unknown to us. When the storm struck upon that hellish sea, we simply stepped through, finding ourselves upon the frontier of a brave new world. As to where, I simply cannot say my boy, but rather... only hope to imagine?' After a moment he turned to Zack, 'do you still have it... the crystal I gave you?'

Zack padded his chest before he remembered of a time when he had given it to Suzan,'No,' he replied worriedly, 'Suzie... I gave it to Suzie?'

'Yes, of course, Suzan... I had almost forgotten about your fair lady,' he replied, 'tell me, where is she for normally I am accustomed to seeing her by your side?'

Zack had no idea where to start, but Professor Clayton knew that something was wrong...

Across the Dunes of Earthly Time, Suzan and her companions were lead in signal file. Soon, hidden within the sea of sand, a city – rich in crafted though laboured by slaves – would rise forth for all to see. A fortress in its simplicity; A kingdom in its vastness; A place rule by the creatures of the earth and guarded by those whom did ride atop of great beastly jackals. This would be the end of journey for many; for once entered none may ever leave. And they did call it the Creed of the Chosen.

'If Suzan has tried to follow you – though her efforts maybe noble – we must assume that by now she has fallen into the hands of Sand Raiders,' said Professor Clayton while making haste for a great cave that lay before him, 'the dunes are a treacherous place, one that not even the Men of Lion dare alone. If she carries the crystal we have little time, for without it we can never return home. If least to mention that she herself is sure to be in grave danger?'

'I don't understand,' said Zack, 'who are these Sand Raiders and what would they want with Suzie?'

'Literal beings of the earth that care for only one thing; to enslave all whom come before them, forever building a kingdom for that of their ungodly Lord,' explained Professor Clayton, 'For centuries the Men of Lion have been at war with these creatures. To the south a vast lay of Ribbon Dunes have made the difference between survival and extinction for these people. The Sand Raiders cannot enter its water. But they are drying, more and more with every day that passes. It is only a matter of time before war looms upon the horizon, and that is why Lioness Somichi had sought council with me this day. As a man of reason she had hope to find a solution to the drought, ensuring peace within her tribe if but for a time. However, her son Kimchiku – whom I believe you have already met – wishes to act now, setting siege to the creature's fortress to put an end to their ill reign once and for all. Soon he will meet with the Council of Elders to call for arms. And as we speak, his braves are preparing for a favourable outcome. But his path will not be an easy one, for no one has ever been able to find a way to defeat the Creed?'

'You seem to know a lot about these people,' said Zack, 'if Suzie has been taken by the Creed, do you think that then perhaps they may be able to help us?'

'From time to time I have given council to Lioness Somichi and her people,' replied Professor Clayton thoughtfully, 'in return she has given me a ship. Though old and in need of repair, it keeps Captain Frances busy at least. However, influencing the course of an unknown people could be very dangerous. And though careful as I have tried... you may have a point? It seems that if we are to rescue Suzan and return home, I have little choice but to find a way to aid Kimchiku in his call to arms. A choice, I fear, one should not take lightly?'

'Captain Frances,' yelled Zack with delight, 'he made it too?!'

'Unfortunately...' replied Professor Clayton playfully, 'Currently, Captain Frances is somewhat touchy about the name that the Lion Kin have given him – A slight error in translation on my part I feel – however, I fear that yet again he will not be too pleased when he hears of what I have to say?'

Knowing Captain Frances, Zack couldn't agree more.

The cave was vast, filled throughout with air holes that allowed the natural light of day to shine down from above. Deep within lay the towering sails of many ships – the Men of Lion's fleet kept safe from the harsh wear of sandstorms or sinking dunes of ill which lay ever in wait beyond. And to the fore of such greatness stood Professor Clayton's ship, its labour of love cared for by the hands of Captain J. R. Frances.

As expected, he wasn't too pleased...

'You want me to do what?' he asked, waving a hand to a few Men of Lion who helped his build to continue working while he approached Professor Clayton, 'have you lost your mind or something, Professor? Taking on those Sand Raiders isn't exactly an easy task, if last I recall. You've seen firsthand of what they're like – If it wasn't for these crazy cats, who knows what would have happened out there?!'

'Captain, I can understand your concern,' replied Professor Clayton, 'but if we are ever to return to our own world we must have that key. I can think of none better to dare such a mission as this than the fearless Captain J. R. Frances. In essence you would simply be commanding a ship, perhaps even a fleet if all goes well?'

'Well isn't that nice,' he replied while shaking his head, 'a change of heart and suddenly you've got delusion of grandeur. Now you look here,' he warned, 'we had a deal; I see to this ship and you see to getting us home. Nobody mentioned anything to me about have to start a war to do that? Whatever happened to all this talk about not interfering with these people? – The grand rule of first contact? – How if we are not careful we could end up changing the course of their history, however well intended it may be?' he asked.

'I admit that it is with much regret that our path leads now to a more unfavourable course. But given the circumstance our choice in the matter is little – you must agree,' replied Professor Clayton, 'besides Captain, the Men of Lion seek war and have so for an age long unknown to us. Such actions will not be of our own doing, I can assure you. Despite public appearance, Lioness Somichi wishes to give her blessing to her son Kimchiku. She knows that the Ribbon Dunes are drying. And whether we like it or not... a war is coming. Though our own interests may differ – if trapped here – one way or the other we will be a part of it. So theoretically, Captain, we would not be rewriting their history as such, but rather... living it.'

'Look, I'm sorry kid,' said Captain Frances to Zack, 'it's good to see that you're alright and all. But it's madness to think that we could pull this off? There has to be another way? We would never stand a chance against those Raiders – even you know that, Professor. And besides – if your theory is correct – how can we be sure that she is even in the hands of those creatures... she could be anywhere for all we know?'

'Merely from our own experience you cannot deny such possibility,' he replied, 'it stands good reason to assume that Suzan has attempted to follow Zack's trail. If the Men of Lion did not discover her as they did Zack – or ourselves for such matter – then there is only one other place she could be, for such is the way of the dunes according to the Men of Lion.'

'Still, just walking in on those Raiders like that,' conceded Captain Frances, 'there has to be another way?'

'If you can think of one I'm all ears, Captain...' replied Professor Clayton, 'but we must find favour with the Men of Lion for we cannot do this alone.'

Captain Frances paused for a moment; he knew that Professor Clayton was right, 'ah hell,' he finally said, 'I've been shipwrecked, nearly drowned – once at sea and twice in that blasted dessert – not to mention chased to the ends of this earth by things I can't even begin to imagine... why stop now?' He glanced down to a butter knife wrapped in a flowery napkin by his side, 'after all, with a name like Raging Buttercup... who could blame a guy for wanting to pick a fight?'

Both Professor Clayton and Zack gave a slight chuckle of laughter. The tribal name that the Men of Lion had given him somehow seemed appropriate.

'Alright, if I'm going to do this I want some reassurances around here,' he continued, 'I'm not exactly keen on being hung out the dry if this thing goes belly up on me – Not like that fiasco with those wolves. I'd still be hanging from that damn tree if it wasn't for falling into that cactus bush; and don't you think that I've forgotten about that!'

'But of course,' replied Professor Clayton amusedly, 'and once again, it was kind of you to break the fall.'

Somehow, Captain Frances didn't seem convinced. Neither did Zack.

'Number one... the way I see it, Professor, you own me a ship. So no matter what happens this ship is mine,' said Captain Frances firmly, pointing to the ship in its near completion behind him, 'and two – did I say that this ship is mine?'

'Very well, Captain, I think that you have made your point,' replied Professor Clayton, 'I hereby entrust this ship and all that it entails to you – you have my solemn word.'

'And one more thing, Professor,' he said while carefully looking from side to side, 'I want this whole business with my name cleared up. There is no way on earth that I'm going down in the blaze of glory with a ship named Raging Buttercup, understand?'

'Indeed, Captain, I shall do my best.'

'Good... so what's the plan; how are we going to convince the elders to join in Kimchiku's call,' he asked, 'how do you suggest we deal with those Raiders?'

'It will not be easy. To succeed we must offer the Men of Lion a way to truly defeat the Creed,' thought Professor Clayton, 'if not, we may be trapped here for quite some time. A time I fear, that we do not have... least Suzan of all?'

'Well then, Professor,' began Captain Frances, now beginning to resume work on his ship, 'whatever is going on in that mind of yours, I suggest that you put it to good use... for once.' He climbed aboard, 'the council meets tonight, and if we don't have a plan by then all bets are off.'

'So it would seem, Captain Frances,' replied Professor Clayton, deep in thought, 'so it would seem?'

As for Zack, the notion of returning home did not interest him. There was no home to return too; Professor Clayton knew this most of all. However, the only thing that Zack did care about was Suzan. He would do anything for her, even if it would mean a return voyage in the end.

Chapter 14

Moonlit Fire

Night had fallen. Among a great feast all did share stories both old and of new. But the gathering of Elders was soon to come, and so beneath the moon a fire was lit and the Council would listen to what Kimchiku would have to say. But the task set before Lioness Somichi's son would not be easy. Among the gathering, much anger and confusion as to how to defeat the Creed, held the hearts and minds of many whom opposed him. Professor Clayton, it seemed, would have to choose his moment carefully if he was to succeed in convincing to Men of Lion to act. However, Captain Frances wasn't so sure that his plan would work?

'I hope that you're right about this, Professor,' he said, 'if these crazy cats realise what we're real up to, there is no telling what will happen?'

'Put your mind at ease, Captain. I have spoken to Queen Lioness Somichi and told her of my intentions and as to why,' he replied, 'she has agreed to help us, though her son's council must come first. Naturally, it is of importance to us that he succeeds. We cannot infiltrate the Creed alone. So whatever happens, do try to remember to go along with it, if at least for the moment.'

'But if Lioness Somichi is Queen,' said Zack, 'why then does her son need permission to defend her people?'

'Her title is an honouree one,' replied Professor Clayton, 'long ago the bloodline of kings was severed. After the Great War many tribes were born, each with different ideals of how to survive, grow and prosper. Queen Lioness Somichi holds rightful heir to the throne, but there are some whom claim differently. They believe that it was her Kingship's line that ended all by trying to defeat the Creed in the time of their Father's haunting. Since then, there has been as much trouble with the Creed as there has been with her own peoples. In answer to such turbulence a Council was devised. Consisting of Elders from each tribe, they sought to keep peace by agreeing what should be decided for all by way of independent rule.'

'Everything went smooth until the Ribbon Dunes started to dry,' said Captain Frances, 'those blasted Sand Raiders would grow more daring, taking slaves whenever they could. The last time they fought was when Kimchiku found me and the Professor here. Many where taken... some never made it back at all.'

'Haunted by his Father's past,' added Professor Clayton, 'and wanting revenge for those whom have fallen, Kimchiku has vowed to restore his Kingship and destroy the Creed. However, he must seek out the will of the Council and win the support of his people to have rightful claim. An act of war by his hand alone would have devastating consequences, if least to mention further endangering all tribes by acts of reprisal from the Creed. That is why we must tread carefully and remember to remain respectful at all times.'

'It's luck for us Kid that we just happen to be caught up in this fiasco,' said Captain Frances, though not entirely pleased with such a thought, 'otherwise we would never be able to rescue Suzan, let alone return home.'

'But what happens if this doesn't work?' asked Zack as Kimchiku prepared to take to the floor, 'what then; How do we help Suzie?'

Both Professor Clayton and Captain Frances eyed each other awkwardly. Somehow, Zack felt that it was best not to know.

'Listen to what Kimchiku has to offer,' pleaded Lioness Somichi, 'listen, if only to cast doubt from your hearts!'

'It is true that the power of rock is great,' said Kimchiku, 'but long have the Creed troubled our people, none greater than the last setting of the moon before. All know of what happen upon the dunes of such cast when we did find the grey–haired man of reason. Many braves, brothers and sons, were lost to the Creed; some taken to be enslaved or worse like many peoples of this earth. But I can no longer standby with unrest in my heart, not as long as those of rock grow more daring with the passing of time.' Kimchiku eyed the Council now with pride in his heart, 'from times of old they did come and we did learn to hear of their spirits. We did learn to sight their paths and know of their nature – As too, did we did use our skill to remain hidden. And the rocks and the shadows became our shelter; but still they would find us; still they would hunt us. And so our wits became our tip of spear and the waters our shield. But the haunting of our fathers' was not to destroy the Creed in the spirit of the great battle long ago.' He raised his voice, his courage burning deeply now in his heart, 'too long have we taken refuge. Too long have many chosen not the fight. The time has come my brothers...we must act now!'

'I wish not for all that as happened as do many,' said one brave, 'but how can I take my wood of spear against crush of rock?' he asked.

'Wasikiy speaks truth,' said another, 'Kimchiku's word would have us turn our wood to scorch of metal and rock to dust, if he was to lead us into battle. But not so will it be should we stand by his side so foolishly, as was it with his Father's spirits!'

'I am friend of Kimchiku,' began the next, 'his word is of honour and I will have none say never so. Where ever he stands, so too will you find me. And those who side against him with such ill heart as yours,' he warned, 'I say to all... choose your fate carefully for he is of my blood. And by his side – in this world or the next – I stand with a ready guard.'

'You dare to bring shame upon my honour?!' replied Wasikiy with anger, 'it is true that the Creed will come and I will meet with them as will you. But the sons of our people must live on. It is madness to give the spirit of their fathers' to the stars so easily. Who will teach them of our ways when we are gone?' he asked, 'who will teach them how to build new homes? And who will teach them how to survive if such dark an hour should fall?'

'When the dunes dry you will have to seek new refuge,' said Kimchiku, 'and when old and grey will you teach your kin to run and hide, passing on the haunting of yours to them forevermore. Is this the dream of freedom you would give to your sons?' he asked, 'No, I say we stand our ground. It ends with our bloodline, for such should it be ours to bear and bear we must. If you cannot find it in your heart to rise against your haunting now, then never will you. If you are no longer willing to give your courage to the memory of your sons, then I say you are coward and no longer brother of my people!'

A great roar echoed throughout the night's air. Those loyal to Queen Lioness Somichi were proud to have kimchiku speak for all. But Wasikiy and his braves would not take kind to her son's tone. And though he claimed them as coward among his people, still they would not give tip of spear nor quiver of arrow to his call. And in the fall of unbalance, the Council of Elders felt it wise now to cast its ruling. Considering all that he had heard, the Chief of the Council rose to his feet, calling now for all quarrels to end... 'It must not be so easy to make such decisions of war,' he said, 'calm of mind and fiery hearts that would tempt our will must we be. Kimchiku speaks of great deeds that much none can deny. True is it that our peoples and way of life must be protected. But Council would ask; is it such wise a way to make war upon those you truly cannot defeat? Wise a man would think not, for careful must all battles be waged least of wit before heart.' The Chief of Council did pause for a moment, allowing all before him to reflect upon such words. 'But Council would also ask; is it less the honour to choose preservation before vengeance, if none can truly find peace in the haunting of ill battles long ago? Wiser a man yet again would think not, for what are ones dreams should they not be given a chance to dream at all?' The Chief of Council looked now upon both Kimchiku and Wasikiy, 'both sides of the spirit–world have truth if seen by such wise a man? The spirits say too that it is within such truth a decision of war can only be made. Our fathers' were of peaceful living, believing all was the creation of Mother Earth; we as one with the beings of now and of the spirit–world. Before the Great War it was to be shared, loved and protected for those to come long after our journey to walk in the light of the stars. Upon the earth they hunted only to feed hunger of family. Though skilled in ways of ancient braves, it was only to defend... never more.' He shook his head with sadness for those who had fallen, 'it is with a heavy heart that I must go not with Kimchiku, son of Queen Lioness Somichi. Such would our sons be dreamless should we make war upon those whom cannot be truly defeated.' He raised an arrow above the warmth of the fire, 'take this arrow Kimchiku – it is a symbol of foe that I give to you – though it may bend greatly, I cannot break it if none can show me a way to weaken its straight...?'

Sadly Kimchiku could not tell of an answer, nor could any whom stood by his side. It seemed now that he had truly lost his call for arms.

'Perhaps I may be able to show you a way,' said Professor Clayton, giving Zack and Captain Frances a wink of his eye before he took to the floor.

'Do not listen to this old man of reason,' said Wasikiy, 'his mind knows not of our people and ways. He is not Lion Kin. He is not of our brothers and his words fall on deaf ears for such bloodless an oath alone.'

However, Lioness Somichi would give honour to his council. And so by Kimchiku's side, the Council of Elders did grant Professor Clayton the right to speak freely among all.

'Kimchicku wishes to set free those whom have been taken by wrongful deed, putting an end to the Creed once and for all,' he began, 'if the council wishes to break the arrow, then it must set differences aside and unite the tribes. Allow Kimchicku to infiltrate the Creed and set free a vast army of slaves within. Rid your people of this ill from the inside out. Then use your fleet and make the sky rain of fire. Drive the Creed out from their Kingdome. Drive them out from the safety of sand and meet with them upon the water's edge; the vast lay of ribbon dunes that has been your shield for far too long a time. Only there you will turn rock to mud and arrow to water. Only there will you find an even battleground in which victory can truly be yours. Give strength to your people, and together as one you will not only break the arrow... but crush it forevermore.'

'Not easy will it be to lure the Creed to such fate,' said the Chief of Council, 'to such beings the waters are a great weakness and long have my fathers' tried and failed to do as you ask. Why now, Council would ask... should it be any different?'

'The difference is now you will use your shield no longer as a place of retreat and refuge, but as a fool's lure,' replied Professor Clayton, 'Within the Ribbon Dunes they of the Creed are no longer rock but frail and sluggish. They will become a foul existence of mere mud to be washed away at will from your tip of arrow and might of spear.' He moved closer as Kimchiku and his braves – together with Lioness Somichi – hoped now for a favourable outcome, 'unite the tribe and send forth your ships. Too long have they lay waste to darkness. Raze the sails of your Fathers' spirits once more, and let them seek vengeance from the sky above. In the confusion and destruction of their Kingdome the Creed will follow. Let their anger be their undoing and your people will have victory, with many days long and prosperous thereafter.'

'Break the arrow,' said Captain Frances, 'and I will aid Kimchiku in his call. I will sail ship and crew and see to it that the Creed have no Kingdome to ever return to. I will see to it that they must follow the path to the water's edge in honuor of your Fathers'.'

'Yes,' said Lioness Somichi, 'Raging Buttercup is man of his word, and I will go with him and give blessing and honour to his call. And like a cunning bird of prey we will wait in the shadows of the sun. And when the cry of free soar throughout the air, we will lay siege upon the Creed like nothing that they have ever seen before...unite the tribe great Council. Unite the tribe and see your children dream of a tomorrow!'

And the Chief of Council did reflect in thought for a long time, 'It is true that the sails of our Fathers' spirits have seen many a lifetime of darkness... perhaps it is time that they awaken?' Finally he looked upon Kimchiku and asked, 'do you take oath with Raging Buttercup and the white haired man of reason?'

'I give my oath freely,' he replied proudly, 'I give him my blood and bravery before all and let none say never so.'

And the Chief of Council did look now upon Wasikiy, asking, 'do you except paths with your brother Kimchiku and kin of all before you? Do you willingly bind your arrow with his?'

Wasikiy eyed Kimchiku and Queen Lioness Somichi before turning his sight upon Professor Clayton and Captain Frances. Like Kimchiku, he too wished to rid his people of their father's haunting; he too had kin taken from him. But it was long since he had found courage in his heart to act against those whom he could not defeat. Time had taken his strength. Time, it seemed, had weakened him. Perhaps the man of reason was right; perhaps the arrow could be broken? Only one question remained for Wasikiy; could he now renew the courage in his heart; could he re–forge the bloodline of kingship?

'It is true that the one they call Raging Buttercup, and that of the white haired man of reason have earned their name this night,' he said, 'I was wrong to look upon such braves unequally, for they would respectively give call to our people even when insult has been cast.' He approached the Council, standing now by Kimchiku's side, 'if such an arrow is to break, two strengths will it need.' He ran his finger alone the length of the arrow, finding its end, 'I will wait here – at the water's edge,' he began, drawing his finger to its tip, 'if Kimchiku will drive forth the Creed to meet with me as one on the battlefield.' Grasping the arrow now at both ends, he finished, 'let us hide no longer. Let us run no further. Together let us unite the bloodline; let us defeat the Creed forevermore!'

Professor Clayton smiled. Within the moonlit fire Wasikiy broke the arrow. One way or another, a new kingship would rise with the coming of dawn.
Chapter 15

The Creed of the Chosen

Word of a Scoundrel

'Let me get this straight,' began Commander Coop while eyeing the lay of a great fortress through the lens of a small spyglass, 'the best plan that you can come up with to secretly enter this fort, retrieve our deserting party and simply slip away into the sunset unnoticed... is to walk up to the front door and knock on it?'

'Yes, Sir,' replied Officer Weasel innocently, 'on account that it would be the last thing that any one would expect, Sir.'

'Anything else?' he asked sarcastically.

'Well, come to think of it... I have been wondering about one or two slightly troublesome parts of my plan, Sir?'

'And that would be?'

'Well,' tried Officer Weasel, deep in thought, 'instead of just walking up to the front door and knocking on it – which I have just come to realise that it may not be as full proof as first thought – perhaps we should try a more sound approach, Sir?'

'Like sneaking into a sewerage system, using its slightly narrow tunnel ways to infiltrate our target without being notice?'

'No, Sir... I was just thinking of ringing the door bell instead – just in case they don't hear us knocking?'

'Does the phrase "you mindless git" mean anything to you?' fumed Commander Coop, 'Oh never mind, we'll just have to do this the hard way – sneak up behind the first guard we see, kick him roughly somewhere between the left and right thigh... and run like Hell!' He shook his head in disbelief, 'the front door, ha, there's not a living thing in this world that would try something as crazy as that.'

A door of iron stood within the heart of a great stone archway. A metal hand reached out. Captain Silver knocked twice... what else could he do?

'Are you sure this will work, Cap–em?' asked his trusted First Mate while nervously looking about.

'Aye, Number One,' he replied, 'once we gain entry to this fine wee establishment, swiftly shall we locate our prize and depart in an orderly fashion. You just make sure to leave those chocolates and that cleverly formed silhouette card behind.'

'But, Cap–em,' tried Number One unsurely as Captain Silver gave another knock, impatiently waiting for a reply, 'surely such fashioned a plan as this could see ourselves be captive; just plainly walking through the front door and all?'

'Aye, we would be in agreement, Number One,' he replied, 'but our absconders await and dare we not waste a moment more. If need be, we may be able to broker a deal with whomever should be the fair godly ruler within?' He glanced at his First Mate, 'I'm sure you will make a fine farewell gift...'

At a reserved bid of seven dollars and a few spear parts, he was sure to fetch a good price.

'I don't think they're going to let us in, Cap–em?' replied his First Mate, slightly relieved with himself while attempting to walk away – Thud! – Finding himself squashed between a mailbox and one very stubborn face of rock, may have suggested differently?

The door creek loose... Promptly, he fell to the ground.

'You see,' began Captain Silver most delightedly, 'I told you that it would work.'

'Aye, Cap–em...' moaned his First Mate, 'but it looks like the chocolates are off the menu?'

Slowly, Captain Silver stepped into a vast tunnel of shadow. The air seemed lifeless and the earth and walls lay bare, but for a moment it was as thought something did move or creep within?

Whatever it was, Captain Silver didn't like it, 'UPS – We've got a package people,' he tried aloud, 'any of ye wee rascals care to sign ones oath of worth?'

Nothing, nothing but a fade of echo to silence... Captain Silver shrugged his frame; it was worth a shot... suddenly a long crescent edge of stone crossed his path from seemingly of nowhere?!

Captain Silver's eye patch popped up in surprise. Clearly it was the sharpest reply he had ever witnessed!

'Name thou nature of want?' said a voice.

'One merely seeks lost property as such,' said Captain Silver innocently.

'What be its kind?'

'The kind that has two legs and is eager to walk,' he replied, 'perhaps if you would be so willing, a certain agreement could be reached for I'd be honourable in such ways?'

Reluctantly, his First Mate presented himself for inspection. Out from the shadow did glow a set of fiery eyes, the wall now beginning to take the form of a great being of earth, 'here, such would hold no soul nor price deemed worthy,' said the Sand Raider, 'for that is the only reason thou has not been taken long before now.'

Just as Captain Silver had feared; they were going to drive a hard bargain. 'Then let us wage this if such an agreement cannot be reach,' he began while producing for a coin, 'a fair game of chance...best of three?'

Slam!

A steal gate closed firmly. Captain Silver and his First Mate began to acquaint themselves with their new surroundings. As prison cells went these days, it wasn't all that bad.

'Cures such rotten luck as ours to be, for I swear he'd pick tails?' said Captain Silver bemusedly.

'Best we take a wee look around, Cap–em,' suggested his First Mate, 'see what locals be here?'

Captain Silver turned to eye his surroundings. He hadn't quite expected to find a small finger wedged between his lenses?

'I don't believe the nerve of you two guys showing up like this?' said a frantic voice, 'do you have any idea what I have been put through all because of you?'

'Number One?!' screeched Captain Silver.

'Aye, Cap–em?'

'What be this creature?' he asked, puzzlement glinting in his lens.

'A one Cara of the Celtic Meadows I believe, Cap–em,' replied his First Mate, furiously flicking through the tattered pages of his notepad to conform his suspicion, 'one of our absconders if it be such fortune as ours to believe, Cap–em.'

She seemed troublesome. He would have to make this brief.

'I'm afraid there is the small mater of the bill to pay,' said Captain Silver, his First Mate promptly presenting a piece of paper to her, 'if you would kindly sign, we'll be on our way.'

'Bill? – What bill?' she screeched, 'Hell no, you picked the wrong sister at the wrong time, Mister – I ain't signing no bill?!'

'Would you ever just keep it down,' interrupted Suzan, 'it's bad enough to be stuck here without having to listen to you as well!'

'Oh I'm sorry,' she replied before storming off in a huff, muttering, 'excuse me for having an invested interest in the rights of consumer affairs. Everybody's just tripping if they think that this sister is some kind of fool.'

Suzan sighed, displeased with the idea of being held captive once again. However, Estaru's mind was seemingly elsewhere, his sight cast to the warmth of day beyond the iron view of their cell. 'You will have to forgive my companions,' he said, 'but tell me... where is your ship?'

'Repairs,' replied the Captain's First Mate, 'after the storm and all...'

'Aye,' began Captain Silver, leaving out the notion of mutiny for reasons of embarrassment, 'it would be fair to say that unless we do solemnly return with our absconders, they'll not come for Captain nor scoundrel alike.'

'And if I were to aid you in such favour of crew,' he asked, 'what then?'

'Just what are you getting at?' asked Morku worriedly, 'you're not going to try and sell us out are you?'

'Not us,' replied Estaru, 'but rather... a princess.'

'A princess you say,' thought Captain Silver, eyeing Suzan with greed, 'for it's true that the beauty of our client's cargo does lie before me so?'

'I knew it!' she fumed in betrayal, 'I knew we couldn't trust you. You really are nothing but a rogue. Why you're just a cheap fitly, faceless...'

'A prize like that would fetch quite a price, would it not?' he continued, his hand covering Suzan's mouth in an effort the keep her quiet, 'and I'd wage that such an opportunistic man as yourself would be open to some kind of arrangement. Of course, should we work together in order that I may leave this ungodly place?' He glanced at Morku unkindly, 'I will even throw in the dwarf for free if you like?'

'Why of all the rotten scoundrels in this fair world,' said Captain Silver, 'you'd be my kind of guy. But what makes you think that I need such aid, for I could send signal to my ship and be away with absconders and all?'

'The boy...' simply replied Estaru.

'Ah, for you know then that both are required and I see not her prince before me?' he conceded, 'maybe the princess is right; such devilish a will of heart you truly have.'

'Once my freedom is seen too,' said Estaru, 'I give you the word of one scoundrel to another that you shall have him.'

'Then it seems we do have such an agreement,' stated Captain Silver before eyeing the elf with warn, 'you will bring the boy to me, less our honour be parted by treachery of fools.'

'Oh you've gone and done it now, Mister,' yelled Cara in disbelief, 'I'm Irish – We're crazy people and I'm about to have me some fun!'

'Ach wee crivens,' added the Magical Lock, 'just let me at the wee lit'ill minx!'

'You need not concern yourselves with such affairs!' said Estaru, before turning to the Captain with equal warn, saying, 'I will keep my word... as well you.'

Somewhere underneath that fake beard Captain Silver smiled. Out from his shoulder a small aerial transmitter rose, layered with panels which slid about its top in a circler motion as each connected to the next. And a red light bleeped to the rhythm of Morse code. Word of recapture and location was duly sent forth – Beep?! – An odd series of bleeps drifted back and forth – Beep–Beep... Beep–Beep–Beep... Beep... Beep–Beep!

His First Mate decoded its meaning; replying when understood.

'Well?' asked Captain Silver curiously.

'Just a sec...?' – Beep... Beep–Beep... Beep! – 'All most there...?' – Beep–Beep! He scratched his head, a final – Beep! – ending the transmission, 'sorry, Cap–em, but wrong Number?' he conceded. It was either that or they were now the proud new owners of a small laundry shop in Chinatown – Beep! – He listened carefully for a brief moment, adding, 'anybody for a fresh pair of Long Johns?'

Captain Silver threw his sights to the heavens. Personally, he preferred a pair of well used Wide Fronts himself.

Meanwhile, with repairs complete, Captain Sliver's crew was busy catching up on a long deserved period of R&R. And what better way to start a new day, than giving chase to a three headed dragon and four dwarves.

After all, they could do with the extra cash!

But first they would have to catch their prize. However, this particular client was proving to be one slippery fiend. The air–nets weren't working. And if it wasn't for those blasted canyon valleys with their sharp turns and narrow ways, they would surely have captured this dragon by now. But Droc son of Oric had a plan. He didn't need to out run this ship; no, he needed to follow it. Boldly shifting toward the open air, he did steer the mighty force of the dragon toward the pirate's ship.

Calling all hands to deck, Captain Silver's crew swiftly began manning the frontal cannons, nets and spear–lines once more. The dragon shot passed once? – Twice? – Even for a third time? When at last it did cross sail to hull of ship... disappearing completely out of sight?!

All eyes scouted for a sign, but not a trace could be found. Quite simply, it had vanished.

Beep–Beep... Beep–Beep–Beep... Beep... Beep...

A massage came over the radio. It was Captain Silver and he did bring news of good fortune. With one last gaze across the sky for those of such bewildering escape, it was time to resume their orderly duty. But just where did that blasted dragon disappear to? – And who called shotgun on the Long Johns?

Estaru made his way back to the iron window of their holding cell, gazing somewhere beyond its sunlit view once more.

'You turned out to be a real piece of work,' said Suzan, whom came now to his side, 'and like I keep tell everyone, I'm not a real princess.'

'You may not prove of my ways,' he replied quietly, 'but soon you will be free of this land, and you need never lay sight upon me again if you so wish.'

'Oh I wish indeed,' she replied with anger, 'I wish that I could have gotten us out of here before you would have your way.'

'Getting out of here is not the problem, young lady,' he replied while popping the iron of window loose from its ledge, 'the problem is trying to get across the many dunes of this land, which the creatures of this earth roam so freely upon?'

'What do you mean?' she asked.

'We would never make it far for across the earth they may follow – but within the sky,' he gestured, 'now that is something entirely different altogether?'

'So I played my part while you bargained like a scoundrel for hope of a ship?'

'And the problem with a scoundrel,' confirmed Estaru, 'is that they never keep their word...'

Suzan smiled. For the first time she was truly beginning to understand the mind of this wild elf.

Outside many slaves moved in chain beneath the midday sun. And none could show weakness nor means of rebellion, for they were forever under the watch of Sand Raiders and that of their beastly jackals. But unknown to all, a small gathering of Lion Men moved with care to remain unseen...

Wrapped partly in lengths of cloth to conceal their true identity, Kimchiku and his braves moved silently throughout the Creed. But Zack had followed – it had been against Kimchiku's wish, but he also knew that they had come too far now to turn back. However, Zack was amazed by the build of worship before him. The realm of the Creed was a vast setting of pyramids, columns and structures lined with gigantic statues; heads of beasts crafted in form of guard to honour their keeper. And most lay wrapped within a maze of platforms, slaves and chain and the whip of master. But within the chaos of labour Kimchiku and his braves could easily move unnoticed. And the narrow alleyways and back streets – looming within the shadow of a great capstone suspended by a sea of rope high above – gave aid to avoid detection too when needed. Keeping low they would cross from inlet to inlet, slipping beneath the wheels of a cart to the cover of wall beyond. And in the distance Kimchiku could see the cells of his captive kin. Quickly, he beckoned his braves onward. Leaving the cover of narrow streets, they attempted to free their kin.

To their timely leave, the earth upon which they once stood slowly began to move? A round metal lid slide to one side, 'right,' began Commander Coop, climbing out from a small hole in the ground, 'just remember to stick to the plan – In and out of here quicker than some silly red caped crusader, trying to rescue a one armed man hanging of a cliff within a rather embarrassing itch...got it?'

'Yes, Sir.'

'Good,' he replied, taking a quick glance at the hole they had just climbed through, 'and let's just hope for your sake, Weasel, that someone doesn't flush the toilets around here before we make ready our escape. Otherwise, it's sushi with a twist for you. And mark my words; it will be very raw indeed.'

'That's mighty kind of you, Sir,' replied Officer Weasel as they attempted to find their way about a number of alleyways, stopping now and then to make sure that the coast was clear.

A Sand Raider passed nearby. Commander Coop sunk into the cover of shade – Snatch! – Officer Weasel didn't pick up on his lead voluntarily!

'Right, you know the drill; public protocol 101; keep behind and try to stay out of sight... preferably mine,' hissed Commander Coop, 'those recruits are bound to be around here somewhere; I can feel it in my bones?'

As Commander Coop and Officer Weasel hurried off into the cover of more alleyways, further within the shadowy depths of the lone ally a faint whistling began to echo? Suspiciously, a small piece of mirror slid out between the iron bars of a prison window. It moved smoothly from side to side, withdrawing to the sound of a precision saw that now began to cut the iron loose from its ledge. A moment later one fathered hat followed by a fake beard attempted to climb through. It seemed that Captain Silver had found an alternative escape plan – Crack?! – As too, had he found himself stuck between a Hard Drive and a rock?

'Curse me wee Memory Stick,' he said while helplessly wedged half way within the widow frame, 'for if my name isn't Captain Wide Front Silver, I'd swear I'd be slimmer the fair man before this very dawn?'

'Perhaps we should attempt a bigger window, Cap–em?' said a voice seemingly under pressure.

'Aye,' he conceded rather embarrassedly, 'perhaps that would be for the best?'

Besides, the Sand Raider standing before him didn't seem too pleased with this one – He could tell.

'This is madness,' said Captain Frances, impatiently pacing up and down the deck of his ship, 'we should never have let the kid go with them; it's too dangerous.'

'Have fate,' replied Professor Clayton while eyeing the fleet of Kimchiku's people, eager in their want to sail, 'the boy has as much right to help free his friend as they do. Who are we to deny him that right?'

'He is in good hands, Buttercup,' said Queen Lioness Somichi, 'Kimchiku will send the signal. Until such time it is our task to wait and hold trust with those whom go before us.'

'Well I still don't like this,' replied Captain Frances worriedly, 'we should have at least tried to stop him when we had the chance?'

Professor Clayton raised an eyebrow. They both knew that it would probably have made little difference. One way or another, Zack would have found a way to reach Suzan if he so pleased.

Kimchiku reached the cell of his captive kin. Carefully he pushed his finger to his lips, willing all inside to remain silent. His braves pried the lock open, swiftly slipping in side before anyone would notice.

'Suzie...?' hissed Zack, 'Suzie, can you hear me?' But there was no replied. Somehow he could tell that she wasn't here.

'Do not lose hope young Blue eye,' said Kimchiku, his braves passing length of spear and quiver of arrow to his kin, insuring all would be armed for the battle to come, 'there are sure to be more cells throughout the Creed. We will find her; you have my word.' However, Kimchiku's feeling told him that something was amiss? It had been all too easy to reach his kin, and the air had a strange stillness about it?

He turned sharply, realising his fear. Before him a shadow upon the wall lit with fiery eyes – It was a trap!

'Something's wrong,' said Captain Frances as Professor Clayton eyed his pocket watch, 'we should have heard something by now?'

'Just a little more time, Captain,' he replied, 'we mustn't rush to conclusions too hastily. They are probably just tying up a few loose ends as we speak.'

'You've got five minutes, Professor,' said Captain Frances sternly, 'then I'm going in... with or without you.'

'Patients, Captain,' he replied, 'all in good time... hopefully?'

Zack and Kimchiku where surrounded by the Creed, gathered now within the midpoint of their realm for all to see.

'Did thee think it so easily to roam free within my Creed without the will of I?' said the Lord of Earth, seated upon a throne set high above a platform lined of many steps, 'sealed the fate of one's companion have thou. For here the souls of all shall serve the Creed forevermore.' And the great Lord did rise forth, 'bring thou foolish souls of all before me,' he commanded, his Creed bring Suzan and Estaru – accompanied by two pirates of scoundrel nobility – to stand in shame alongside Zack and Kimchiku.

Strangely, Captain Silver seemed to have the remains of a wall wedged tightly about his waist?

'Zack,' yelled Suzan, 'I thought that we had lost you for good?!'

'Don't worry, Suzie, it's not over yet,' he said.

'So, who's the cat lover?' asked Cara, suspiciously eyeing Kimchiku. He gave her a growl. Promptly, she thought about rephrasing her choice of words!

'You've kept us waiting my young friend,' said Estaru, 'but I see that you have still to understand the meaning of a rescue?'

'Let's just concentrate on how we're going to get out of here,' interrupted Morku, 'we can decide who is at fault later.'

'It's a little late for a pep talk,' moaned Cara, 'this has been one heck of an audition, but as soon as I get out of here... I am so done with this acting business.'

'Silence thee of mortal soul,' roared the Lord of Earth, 'none shall speak less higher being gives thee permission to do so!'

'What is thou bidding?' ask one of the Lord's Creed.

The Lord of Erath looked down upon all before him with displease, 'destroy them,' he said, 'and let thou souls be a warring for all whom dare rise against the Creed.'

Under the watchful eye of the Lord of Earth, his Creed prepared to strike – Click?! – A colt and one rather ambitious Commander Coop had other ideas!

'Right,' he began while officer Weasel joined his side atop of a nearby roof, 'I have had just about enough snooping around with this godforsaken place. This here is a finely tuned instrument. On occasion it likes to be heard. When it does, I think you will find that the appropriate custom to such a powerful performance generally involves reaching for the sky.'

Thud! – A brick hit the earth. From a certain point of view, it may have looked rather embarrassing for Captain Silver?

'Let me get straight to the point,' continued Commander Coop, 'I want my recruits and I want them now. Otherwise, before you can say "Here's Johnny" with a crooked smile and some dodgy dental work, some of you stone–faced scoundrels around here... will be nothing more than just the old chip off the block.'

None dared move under the watchful eye of Commander Coop. However, the loom of a great shadow began to creep across the air? To the surprise of all, the hull of a pirate's ship stealthy hovered into place – many a small hatch popping up to reveal the lengthily barrel of cannon sitting comfort behind Commander Coop. Slowly, a curious expression began to draw upon his face. He turned – Boom! – In keeping with all thing traditional, there was only one thing left to say, 'Ah bugger... not again.'

The cannons roared. Dust exploded and the earth shook with fear. But within the chaos one thing seemed to puzzle Captain Silver – Last time he checked, he hadn't noticed a suspicious dragon with four dwarves clinging nervously to the underside of his ship before?!

Chapter 16

The Water's Edge

Under the fearsome might of cannon fire, Kimchiku and his braves made good on their escape. Dispatching with the closest guards to hand, they would move to free as many slave as they could before engaging in battle. And Kimchiku roared with pride for soon Professor Clayton and Captain Frances – keeping true to their word – would join in the uprising; Queen Somichi's fleet setting fire to the sky above with hope to bring ruin to the Creed's Kingdome forevermore. The battle had truly begun, but deep within the clouds a darker twist of fate had yet to play its hand...

'Captain,' roared Lioness Somichi, 'portside – we've got company?!'

Captain Frances gazed a far, eyeing the sky as a new fleet of ships entered the battle, 'I thought that Sand Raiders didn't have ships?' he asked.

'They don't,' said Professor Clayton, 'but whoever they are, let us hope they're friendly.'

A cannonball shot across their bow. Promptly, Captain Frances reached for his butter knife!

Out from the clouds came many ships of war. Their sails were but ash, with hulls burnt to a crisp black as though raised from the very fires of Hell its self?

'Take the city by force!' roared King Evil, standing proudly upon the deck of his ship, 'I want the princess alive. And if that prince charming gives you the slightest hint of trouble, make sure to dispose of him quickly.'

He gave his breath a freshness of mint. Who knew that speed dating could be such hard work?

Leaving Captain Silver to that of his own chance, Zack began to lead the way to the water's edge. Upon great platforms they now ventured, swinging from web of rope to the lower level of the next. However, in the fall of cannon fire, the capstone held high above the Creed did lose its hold. Down it fell, crushing's everything in its path. Swiftly Estaru nudge Zack out of the way, Suzan stranded upon the far side as he desperately tried to reach her, but alas he could not.

'Find another way,' he yelled, unable to breach a gap in the capstone, 'reach the safety of an airship if you can?'

'Perfect,' moaned Cara, 'why does it always have to be the hard way? I just knew I should have signed with Walt Disney. This is not exactly my idea of non–stop swashbuckling fun, you know?!'

'What about Zack?' asked Morku.

'There isn't much time – hurry,' insisted Estaru, 'I will see to it that your friend is safe from harm – you have my word!'

But little did he know that he had mistakenly nudged Zack over the edge of the remaining platform. As he turned to see, he could tell that Zack hadn't found the ground. Through the open streets – two beastly jackals startled by the fall of cannon fire – ran wildly with their prison carriage in toe. Zack was clinging helplessly atop of its caged roof!

Estaru shook his head in disbelief, watching as they galloped through the remains of a once great wall, a far across the Dunes of Earthly Time. Suzan's returning gaze wasn't an impressive one. By the looks of it, it was going to be a long day.

The beastly chariot fled the realm of the Creed. Somewhat bemused, Zack struggled to keep his hold while trying to reach the reins of the beasts. But over and over again they would slip from his grasp. With weak footing, he fell in–between their rushing hoofs. Though he had managed to grasp the reins at last, his feet now dragged across the earth, drawing him inward, beneath the underside of the iron chariot. And out from the far end the reins snapped firmly into place, dragging him helplessly across the dunes. Desperately, he tried to pull himself along its length, reaching the chariot's edge not a moment too soon. However, about him now the Creed came swift upon the great backs of their beasts.

Quickly, Zack move along the side of the caged chariot, using its square segments for sure footing. And the near rock of spear or edge of stone blade came swift, but the chariot was too wild in its movement for the Creed to close him down. When at last he did reach its top, grasping the reins truly for the first time, he whipped its leader to drive forth the beasts once more. But to his side the earth did rumble with life, where ahead it grew even greater as it streamed by? And out from its growth did form that of the earthly Lord, waiting, taunting, as though willing Zack to strike through the heart of its very being.

The chariot came forth. The Lord of Erath vanished within air of dust, reforming beyond its end with fist clenched upon its cage. And its body of being seeped through the cold layer of segments unharmed, furious in renewed form for the hunt of its prey. Zack pulled hard upon the reins, shifting the chariot from side to side in hope to throw the earthly Lord. But he would not be moved, coming upon Zack with easy. And the ill grasp of grain seeped through the final lay of iron. And the air slowly began to creep to its form. There was nothing for it; Zack heaved the reins hard... and he heaved them sharp!

Aboard the pirate ship, its crew made way to the starboard side. A rope ladder sounded heavily under the weight of Captain Silver as he neared its end – Click? – Naturally, it came as no surprise to be greeted by his crew... pistols and all!

'Permission to board me fair honourable crew,' he began, 'for I bring a pledge of absconders as duly noted upon message of return.' The glinting edge of a blade seemed uneasily convinced, 'this be settling the matter of the bill too, I do believe?' he tried.

'Aye, aye, Cap–em!' they cheered, Captain Silver dusting himself off delightedly as he climbed aboard.

Creak? – The rope ladder sounded heavily once more; Captain Silver's First Mate would have to think fast, 'I bring news of progress overboard,' he nervously stated – But why was his Captain holding a pistol too? – 'And one a pair of Long Johns – Medium – Red – Extra toe hole left–hand side for causal fit?' he added.

The crew eyed one another with suspicion, 'Hooray!' they finally cheered.

Aerr, it was good to see the old boys again!

Among the alleyways and backstreets, Suzan fought to find another way out. How and to what end out ran her thoughts, but perhaps the answer lay with the beastly form of a dragon?

A dwarf tumbled to the ground, 'Droc, you came for us,' yelled Morku, 'I just knew you would.'

'Sorry for the delay,' he replied, looking a bit worse for wear, 'you wouldn't believe the problems with transportation these days; it's simply murder.' He pulled himself together, eyeing Suzan, 'at last we meet, your Highness. Allow me to introduce myself...'

'Does this look like a social occasion to you?' interrupted Cara, 'Zack is out there somewhere, and we need to get to one of those ships!'

Swiftly, Droc turned to Earru who was still seated upon the dragon, 'it seems that there is not a moment to lose,' he said, 'take flight and find our young companion at once; quickly now, before all may be lost.'

Suzan and Cara tried to protest – The dragon took flight!

'I don't believe it?' Droc froze innocently. 'Do you realise what you have just done?' He wasn't quite sure that he followed. 'That, my hairy friend, was or only ticket out of here,' said Cara, 'how do you propose we reach one of those ships now?'

'A slight miscalculation on my part, I must concede,' he said, nervously twiddling his fingers, 'but I'm curtain that an alternative opportunity will present its self... eventually?'

Samif and Airtu shook their heads with embarrassment, the end of a rope ladder swaying aimlessly in the background. As alternatives go, a pirate's ship wasn't quite what they had in mind. But then again, it wasn't like they really had a choice.

However, aboard the pirate ship the small clan of Magical locks – disguising themselves as pirates – were well on their way to capturing the ship. Their moment had finally arrived, and they were keen to act.

'We be boarded no doubt!' yelled Captain Silver. Swiftly the Magical–Pirates froze, the Captain making his way to the starboard side. Instinctively his eye patch popped up, lay sight upon his ship's rope ladder to where Suzan and the dwarves now boldly made their way. 'Alright you sorry looking scoundrels,' he yelled once more, 'prepare to greet the honourable cargo, Season Discount and all!'

'Ach, aye wee privy Cap, aye!' cheered the Magical–Pirates with relief.

Admittedly it may have seemed a little strange, but orders were orders.

The chariot crashed to a sudden halt. Slowly, Zack crawled out from beneath the wreckage, the air seeming strangely still as the Lord of Earth began to form before him. Zack clawed his way backward, never shifting his sight from its form. There was nothing that he could do except fill his fists with sand, a sign of his desperation as his fingers sunk beneath the dried earth.

But soon the earth would feel strangely moist? Slowly he drew his fists before him, watching as they dripped with mud. He turned with hope; the water's edge, the beginning of a vast lay of Ribbon Dunes!

'And so thee would lure the Creed to form of weakness?' began the Lord of Earth, 'not so easily shall it be, for thou seeks such task alone. Even here thou should have taken many of great worth to defeat my Creed!'

But Zack paid little heed to the Lord of Erath, crawling further into the water with hope that he could not follow.

'Run,' mocked the Lord of Earth, raising its great crescent stone blade high into the blinding of sun, 'hide and seek out aid if thou are so willing to defy fate. But here thou soul shall be mine...'

Clash! – Down came the heavy blade of fate, but it did meet with that of another?

Estaru eyed the great Lord, his guard of blade safely protecting Zack, 'the boy may have moved quicker than an elf of wild this day,' he said, 'but I warn you... he stands not along!' He looked down upon Zack, 'run you fool, leave this to me for I will repay my debt to you this day.' Leaning close to the Lord of Earth, he whispered, 'tell me, has thou not seen where it is that thou footing lies?'

From behind the Lord of Earth the water's surface began to part. The great mane of lion rose with strength to a breath of air, a cold and narrow frown setting firmly upon the earthly Lord. The true beastly kings, the Men of Lion revealed themselves from their watery place of hiding. Zack smiled. The trap had been set, and those of the Creed had foolishly followed!

Chapter 17

The Sky Battle

Within the sky a great battle began. King Evil's fleet sought to lay siege upon the Men of Lion, determent to recapture his princess. However, when it came to taking a ship named The Raging Buttercup, it was proving to be somewhat difficult...

'Fire!' yelled Captain Frances, 'all hands on deck – we make ready to board!'

'We need to end this now,' said Professor Clayton, 'if we sustain another hit it will surely see us downed!'

'Agreed,' replied Captain Frances, 'but not if I have anything to say about it!' He raised his hand to command Queen Lioness Somichi's archers, 'ready...!' he yelled, his ship taking damage once more, 'fire!'

Cast forth came many lines of rope attracted to arrows. Aimed high, they fell upon an orc's ship with a thunderous rain. Holding firmly within their chosen mark, they tightened sharply as both vessels drew closer and closer until the might of hull clashed against hull.

'This is the moment of honour,' roared Queen Lioness Somichi, casting her spear high into the burning sky, 'for Queen, life and freedom we stand united!'

Above the fallen realm of the Creed, the boarding of ships had begun.

Droc neared the end of his climb – Click? – He hadn't anticipated seeing the front–end of a pistol when reaching the top!

'Ah me hearty, it's a fine wee day for the old leisurely stroll, eh?' said Captain Silver, 'I'd give you a hand, but as you can see...' He gestured to his crew whom stood by his side, 'they don't seem to have one to spare as it were.'

'Ach sorry lad,' replied the Magical–Pirates embarrassedly, 'but wee privy Cap's orders.'

'I'd be Captain Wide Front Silver,' explained the honourable Captain as Droc cautiously stepped aboard, 'and this here is my fair and occasionally loyal crew. Perhaps I may be permitted to introduce myself a little less formally,' he continued, 'it won't take but a mere second or two... I can assure you.' – Whack! – The butt of a pistol crossed Droc's head. Promptly, he hit the deck.

In the business of piracy, Captain Silver did try to make your experience worthwhile. The problem was you never actually knew when you were going to be a customer.

Suzan struggled to climb the rope ladder. Further ahead she could see that the Dwarves had reached the top. However, there seemed to be some sort of commotion taking place. Something about the way Samif wiggled his feet told her so? But she hadn't time to think of that right now. If she failed to reach the top soon, by the look of things she might not reach it at all?

Above, the Magical Lock hopped aboard with Cara soon to follow. Droc son of Oric and his mighty fellows seemed to have everything under control – 'Stand still you wee bugger!' – Well, almost.

Soon the Magical–Pirates abandoned their position, coming to their chief's side. But through the air came the roar of many engines. Out from the darkened clouds of war a small fleet of double winged aircrafts came swift in their flight. And a rain of pellets tore across the deck, the tail gunner striking the ship's rudder as it daringly passed. Under heavy damage, Captain Silver's ship began to lose control. Slowly, it drifted on a collision course with that of another!

Swiftly the Magical–Pirates jumped into action,'prepare to return fire!' yelled the Chief Magical Lock, huddling his clan about a cannon with eyes set upon its fuse line, 'On my wee mark...'

'Ach aye wee privy Cap, aye!' they replied, ready to ignite the cannon.

'I don't know about this?' said Cara worriedly, 'maybe we should leave this one to the professionals – What do you say?'

'Three...'

'Hit the deck,' she panicked, 'Section–Eight is on the loose!'

'Too...'

'Step away from the cannon and assume the position!'

'One...'

'We've got innocent lives at stake here people?!'

'Fire!'

The fuse was lit. It burned like wildfire, closer and closer to its core. Cara plugged her ears... but nothing seemed to happen?

Aimlessly, they stared about the cannon – BANG! – 'Ach wee crivens?!' – With a mighty roar it shot backwards, fuse still burning at its core. Across the ship's deck it thundered, crashing through the far side and on... into the unknown?

The Magical Lock shook his head, glancing down to its clan's feet where a red hot cannonball now lay? Cara simply fainted. String that cannon was proving to be somewhat difficult!

Below, Suzan felt the ship crash against the hull of another. Its force flung her from the rope ladder. Through the air she helplessly fell. Luckily, however, her date had arrived just in time; King Evil's ship making way for a swift sail now that she had finally decided to drop in.

Captain Silver was busy coming to terms with the phrase "Problematic Customer's". On the bright side however, business never looked so good.

'Hold still ya wee bugger,' he yelled, 'you won't feel a thing for I give you me solemn word – hand on chip!'

When faced with the barrel of a loaded pistol, Droc couldn't help but feel somewhat uncertain?

'I think that I would much prefer a full refund if it's all the same,' he boldly stated, dead–eyed in the face of his attacker.

'Sorry,' replied Captain Silver sincerely, 'but terms and conditions clearly state that we only do store credit, plus the occasional discount voucher between the wee hours of nine to five.'

Damn!

The pistol clicked nervously before him. It was time for some quick thinking; perhaps they had a twenty–four–hour helpline? On closer inspection, Captain Silver did seem to have a red call service button placed at his side; a slim slot marked with a dollar sign shining brightly underneath?

The problem being, he was fresh out of quarters!

A Cannon rolled aimlessly across the deck of an orc's ship. Finding a doorway, it plummeted down a steep flight of steps, disappearing within the shadows below. A foot crossed the doorway; Captain Frances was eager to finish this boarding. After all, it seemed that he now had pirates to deal with too, Captain Silver's ship helplessly wedged between his and the orcs.

Below deck, orcs hurried to and fro. Some carried orders to join the battle above. Others were to stay put, guarding entry to the lower decks – nobody mentioned anything about a frantic fairy strapped to the end of a Cannon?!

Quickly, they decided to get the heck out of the way. It seemed like the most sensible thing to do at the time.

Meanwhile, their Commanding Officer was busy preparing to set its prize free, as a large cage of iron filled with water held the captivity of a furious beast. 'The battle is not yet lost,' he said, gesturing to his crew to open a hatch door within the roof above, 'just make sure to keep it on a tight leash. I don't want it crushing the entire ship!'

'But she's hungry,' said an orc, hunchbacked and frothing at the mouth, 'needs more room to feed.'

'I said a sort leash,' he roared, 'do not forget to whom you speak with!'

'But we must please her,' began another orc, nervously edging away from the cage, 'the King would...'

Slash!

The crude edge of a blackened blade pierced his gut, 'sort leash,' he roared, 'now open the damn hatch.'

On deck a cargo hatch began to part. Within the watery prison below many tentacles, monstrous in size, uncoiled toward the light. And rows of teeth lined the way to the ill bowels of its lair as the beast came forth, wrapped in a mass of chain. And its eyes were many, curved in pupil and intent on seeking out its prey with an ill watchfulness. The Air–Kraken had awoken, turning the battle now in favour not of orc nor of lion... but of its self!

Upon the Ribbon Dunes Kimchiku came at last, but those of the Creed would not be so easily defeated. It would take both he and Estarù to hold the Lord of Earth to battle. Within the shimmering heat they fought, as those lost to the battle above crashed to the earth with trails of distant fires burning in the sky. But about them many jackals entered the water, charging the Men of Lion with vile frowns set to the ill drool of teeth. However, Wasikiy's braves would lay them slain, sticking their hearts with arrow or snaring their hideous form within netting. They would never give in, not while Kimchiku still held hope in defeating the Lord of Earth.

As for Zack, he could do no more than to survive the battle. But a lone Raider would seek him out, forcing him to the edge of dune beneath the tip of its spear. And Zack seemed helpless now for none could come to his aid in time. And the tip of spear did steady it's self, willing to strike, unaware of a great span of wings that hovered above?

The dragon whipped its tail. The Raider was no more!

Quickly, Earru beckoning Zack to climb atop, assuring him that it was safe to do so. Together, they now sought to find Suzan.

Upon a small table stood a candle; Smoothly King Evil clicked his fingers, two napkins, one red rose and some romantic melody setting the evening's mood. With his guest seated his faithful butler presented the menu.

Suzan didn't seem pleased – The duck–tape may have been a little extreme for her liking, but unfortunately, when it comes to dating these days you never can be too careful.

'Ah, one does love to watch the sun set,' began King Evil, 'though I must admit, the view is a tad bit dull this evening?' Suzan tried to reply but her gag piece wasn't helping, 'yes, you're quite right of course; I too enjoy more of an intimate atmosphere. Unfortunately, however, that's what happens when you make reservation at the last minute.' He turned, looking deep into her eyes while resting his head in a swing of webbed fingers, 'Suzie – may I call you Suzie, mill Lady? – let us get to the point...'

A pocket knife flicked open with a menacing glint. Promptly, his faithful butler uncorked the Champagne.

'May I suggest the veal? It's quite tender this time of year and a personal favoured of mine,' he continued, snapping the menu closed, 'now, where was I... ah yes, wee, wee lovers ma dame. Traditionally I would begin by wooing you with words of poetry, flowers for show of affection and evening picnics by the lakeside. But I'm afraid by today's standards, one email and an arranged marriage is about the most you can hope for.' He leaned closer, 'allow me be perfectly frank; I need a kiss and I need it now!'

His faithful butler gave a discreet cough, 'your Majesty, if the spell is to be truly lifted you must concede to a more...' he tried to find the right words to say, '...respected vow of honour.'

King Evil sighed. Another marriage could seriously spell bankruptcy. However, there was little time for thought. Apparently, a dragon carrying a certain Prince Charming was hot on their trail.

Things, it seemed, were shaping up to be just like his first marriage; simply outrageous!

The aircraft fighters came sharp and sudden. A fiery glow of rounds shot forth as the dragon swirled over and over, using the sky battle as a treacherous maze in an attempt to evade those whom would daringly follow. King Evil's ship was close, but as Zack gave chase, upon the Ribbon Dunes Estarù and Kimchiku fought bravely against the Lord of Earth. However, the earthly being would prove to be a most formidable opponent, with point of spear and edge of blade of little use to his solid form of rock. However, Estarù was growing cunning to the ways of Sand Raiders. Drawing his blade once more, he anticipated the Lord of Earth's path of reform. Once his effort found its mark, the water's of the dune would serve him well!

...PLEASE HOLD WHILE WE ARE PLACING YOUR CALL...

'Just great!' said Droc while struggling with Captain Silver, 'at $4.27 per minute, it's a good thing I called collect!'

...WE APOLOGISE, ALL ARE OPERATORS ARE CURRENTLY ENGAGED...

'It a'd be a wee scam if ever there was,' confessed the Captain, impatiently waiting for the dwarf's call to be connected. After all, ever customer had the right to make a formal complaint, didn't they?

...PLEASE HOLD WHILE WE ARE PLACING YOUR CALL...

They both sighed with annoyance. This was going to take some time.

Samif struck his axe across the path of two orcs. Their yellow bloodshot eyes narrowed to the glint of his blade while the hideous screeching of the Kraken filled the air about them. Under the creaking of the ship's deck, the orcs dared a foot closer. Samif came to meet with them – Snap?! – A rope, shaped in the form of a noose lying somewhat suspiciously upon the ship's deck, wrapped tightly around his left foot?

The orcs swung their blades. The rope whipped high into the air. With Key–blades at the ready, a small clan of Magical–Pirates swung halfway down to swiftly strike their prey – Admittedly, their timing may have been slightly off?

Samif awkwardly glanced to his side, finding Airtu and Morku beside him. They looked like they were smiling. But then again, they were upside down!

...YOU ARE CONNECTED TO THE SHIVER ME TIMBERS SHIP MATES & CO Ltd, A LUCRATIVE TRADING DESTINATIONS COMPANY, FUNDED IN PART BY THE MARINE ENTERPRISE BOARD AND OTHER PRIVATE INVESTORS. IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO SPEAK WITH A MEMBER OF OUR FINANCE DEPARTMENT PLEASE PRESS ONE...

Captain Silver and Droc shook their heads with disinterest.

...FOR OUR PROMOTIONAL PACKAGES AND SPECIAL OFFERS PLEASE PRESS TWO...

Droc raised an intriguing eyebrow?

...IF YOU ARE CURRENTLY BEING HELD CAPTIVE BY A PROFESSIONAL MEMBER OF OUR STAFF, AND WISH TO UPGRADE YOUR PACKAGE TO FIRST CLASS; THE EXTREME PIRACY EXPERIENCE, PLEASE PRESS THREE...

Captain Silver's pistol clicked with an air of enthusiasm, the kind that says, 'I'll make every dollar count?' He would even get to walk the plank for free.

The Kraken laid ruin to all. About Queen Lioness Somichi masts crumbled amid a web of tentacles. And many men were lost overboard, snared high above or taken to the depths of its watery prison – both orc and lion alike. If her kin could not stop this beast now, all would be lost.

'We must flee,' cried one of her kin, 'our efforts die in vain should we stand our ground any longer!'

A tentacle whipped before Queen Lioness Somichi, searching to grasp its next victim. Bravely, she stood her ground, slicing her spear through the mere flesh and blood of the beast, 'if it bleeds with the flow of rivers,' she said, 'we can kill it!'

To her side Captain Frances hurried to load as many cannons as he could. Pointing them with a stern aim upon the beast, Professor Clayton gave the order to the Men of Lion to light the flame of arrow. Swiftly they soared though the air together with the angered barrel of cannon. Within a dark cloud of gunpowder the Kraken screeched with ill. Professor Clayton now gazed upon a thick wall of smoke. To his hope the beast was withdrawing at last. And Queen Lioness Somichi and her kin cheered with pride. But soon their cheering would turn to silence. Much to the dismay of all, the eerie shadow of the Kraken returned. Professor Clayton looked weakly upon Captain Frances. All hope was lost for nothing, it seemed, could truly stop this beast!

Embarrassingly, King Evil's ceremonial plans were the subject of the usual red tape bureaucracy.

'Something blue?' asked his faithful butler.

King Evil noted Suzan's crystal, 'check!'

'Something old, new and borrowed?'

'One good old trusty dagger – A new bride – And we seem to be running on borrowed time,' he suggested, pressing his blade against Suzan's side rather impatiently, 'now do you mind getting on with it, otherwise, your new appointment will be short lived – get it?'

'Of course, your Majesty... but I must ask about the rings?' he hinted.

'Blast,' fumed King Evil, 'there's always something, isn't there?'

Estarù's blade struck through the Lord of Earth, holding firm within the rock formed abdomen of the earthly being. And he did push with all his might, dragging the Lord beneath the water's surface before removing his blade. Within its murky depths he began to weaken. Soon his form of rock turned frail and loose. Swiftly, Kimchiku seized his chance; rise high into the sunlight air with spear in hand, before driving down upon the Lord of Earth with all his might. Roaring with the vengeance of a thousand lions, he twisted his spear through the heart of its being. But now, in the stillness of the water, all seemed finally at an end.

However, the Lord of Erath world not lay to rest for he did rise once more. Equal in anger, he snapped Kimchiku's spear in two, before flinging it to one side with fiery eyes wild and fearsome. But the Lord of Earth's being wept of mud, as though bleeding from its wound. And try and try would he to reform to rock, but he could not – save partly throughout. Nor could he vanish in air of dust for the water ran deep within him now, binding his being in a stickiness of mud that would not set him free.

Looking upon Estaru whom now stood before him, he did see a hint of smile. And he knew now that this elf of wild feared no God – especially one who bleeds!

...FOR DISCREPANCIES ON YOUR CREADIT CARD RECEIPTS, PLEASE REMEMBER THAT THIS IS PIRACY, IT IS TO BE EXPECTED. ALTERNATIVELY, PRESS FOUR FOR TERMS AND CONDITIONS...

Hullo? – Hullo? – I would just like to... Hullo?'

...FOR DEFECTIVE MACHINERY PLEASE PRESS FIVE...

Droc pressed the digit.

...PLEASE HOLD WHILE WE ARE PLACING YOUR CALL...

Somewhere across the known world – Chinatown – Cane Chung was the proprietor of a small but modest laundry store. Currently, he was busy dealing with a rather strange telephone call?

'Hi, Wing Chung's – wha' you wan'?' The phones receiver squeaked with an astonishing pace. Clearly, urgency was of the utmost importance. 'I no Mr Droc?' replied Mr Chung, 'you Droc? – Why you call me...I no Lee Evans agent?!' He called out to his store assistant, 'Lee, Lee, you tell – I no your agent...no agent!'

'Hello?' The line went dead, 'he hung up... the cheek?!'

'No, the names Droc – D–R–O–C\--Droc,' said Droc son of Oric, his call finally being put through, 'Lee who?' A haste of squeaking filtered through a small mic placed most conveniently by Captain Silver's side, 'Hullo?' he tried once more, 'Do you e speak any e Americano?!'

The line went dead. Apparently, he was going to have to do this the hard way.

'Alright, that's it,' he yelled, struggling to push the Captain off of him, 'I have had just about enough of this "me hearty!"'

'Aerr, now you'd be talking my kind of language,' approved Captain Silver, 'shall we...?'

Summoning strength deep within, Droc somehow managed to lift Captain Silver high into the air, 'I'm sorry,' he dared, 'but I'm afraid that I'm going to have to let you go–ooow?!'

Naturally, Captain Silver couldn't help but notice that there seemed to be a slight emphasis on the word "go"?

The deck was like rock with stubble, Captain Silver's pistol firing aimlessly as they fell.

Retreating to the Raging Buttercup, Queen Lioness Somichi and the Men of Lion could do no more. The Kraken was too strong and they could not find a way to defeat it. However, below the deck of the orcs ship, Cara unwillingly ventured down another flight of steps. Among the shadows of a dimly light passageway, the cannon crashed through a door, abruptly entering a small room full to its edge with barrels. The force flung her from its end, out through a narrow window within the far wall, landing not so pleasantly somewhere within the dunes a far below.

She felt slightly dizzy.

Squeaking to a sluggish halt, the cannon now nudged gently against one of the barrels. In turn it pressed against a slim broom handle. The handle rubs up the side of a wall, rocking a miniature barrel placed upon a neat shelf above. With a lazy thud, it toppled over, rolling in its lay to reveal the word GUNPOWDER printed clearly on its side?

A thin wave of grain poured down from the shelf, merely seconds from igniting with the cannon's fuse. Fortunately, however, it fell short of its mark. The Gunpowder Room was safe – Boom! – A stray pellet burst through the ship's wall? Promptly, the barrel shattered.

Cue explosion... and one innocent Captain Silver!

Out from the side of the orcs ship grew a hot cloud of fire. Its force burned upward. Unstoppable in its rage, it engulfed the Kraken and all who stood near it. Professor Clayton and Captain Frances jumped for joy. The airy beast was truly no more and the battle was now theirs for the taking. It would not be long before the Men of lion would defeat the remaining orcs.

'Do you, your Majesty, take this lady to be your lawfully wedded wife; to have and to hold...'

'Yes, yes, yes...' rushed King Evil, 'do we really have to listen to this rubbish? I mean seriously... whatever happened to a bit of 2x1, a swift thud across the head, and legging it to the nearest cave with a wad of cash and your neighbour's wife?' His butler gave him an odd glance, 'oh just get on with it,' he waved, 'we haven't got all day.'

'Quite right, your Majesty,' he replied before continuing, 'do you, mill Lady, take this man – frog? – to be your lawfully wedded husband?'

'You can skip that part too,' he interrupted once more, 'in fact, may I suggest skipping the entire lot?'

'oooooowww!' Suzan struggled in her chair, vigorously swaying her head from side to side.

King Evil's butler raised a brow of concern, 'she's French,' suggested his Majesty, 'as you can imagine they're a bit backwards, if you pardon my wee wee?'

'And so it is with the power invested in me by the Father and the Son, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera – I now pronounce you now as man and wife,' concluded his faithful butler delightedly, 'you may kiss the bride, your Majesty.'

'About bloody time you insufferable bore,' he moaned, 'right, this is it my dear; the moment of truth. Pucker up and prepare to be gruesomely horrified.' He pulled away her gag piece, 'I've waited a long time for this moment. All I need is a princess, some honourable vows and a slightly twisted fairytale ending to finally break my spell!'

'But I'm not – Kiss! – a princess...?' tried Suzan.

King Evil opened his eyes, lips still posed, 'I'm sorry, what was that last part you just said?'

'She said that she is not a princess,' said a voice, 'now let her go!'

King Evil turned with displease, noting a pair of feet above sliding down through a sea of sail before hitting the deck. Zack picked himself up as the dragon kept flight, hoping to lose the aircrafts that still followed. He would have to thank Earru for pushing him later.

'You're too late Prince Charming,' said King Evil, 'dramatic as your entrance was, this newlywed love affair has already been sealed with a kiss.'

Angrily, Suzan stood up, her binds unravelling to the feet, 'wedding? – Prince Charming? – For the last time "your Majesty" I am not, and never will be, a princess!'

It may have taken a moment or two, but somehow King Evil felt duped, 'I'm sorry, you mean to tell that you're not...?' he surmised, 'Which means he is not really your...? – And I'm still a...?' His eyes twitched from side to side before glancing down the length of his body. His hands and feet still lay webbed and his skin green and freckled too? There was no magical sensation to overwhelm him? No twinkle of toe nor dazzle of stardust about his head? He was, without doubt, still a frog; a small green toad with a shiny gold crown and a silly red cape.

'You... git!' he said, facing Zack, 'you utter little git! You did this to me; you've taken my dreams of true love, and left me scared with this hideous form forever!' He raised his hand, his majesty's archers appearing overhead with tightened bows at the ready, 'I can't believe that all this time I have been chasing a princess and her fallen prince that never was? Well darling, you can forget about the honeymoon and the lavishly cheep gifts. The weddings off and it's happy days for this old bachelor from now on – just as soon as I get your head on the chopping block!'

Legally, it would save him a fortune.

The orcs readied themselves, needing only their King to lower his hand, 'divorce, it's never really a pleasant business but there's always the exception,' he said at last, 'destroy them... destroy them all!'

The Lord of Earth never allowed his sight to stray from the elf of wild. But Estarù would not be moved, simply eyeing him in retune as though taunting, willing him to lay the final blow if he so dared. But upon the far side Kimchiku lay helpless, unable to lend hand of aid for his spear was broken.

Estarù knew that he alone would have to act... for act he must.

The Lord of Earth came forth. Estarù let loose his blade, hoping to find its mark. Through the air it sliced, narrowly avoiding the Lord of Earth for he did fail to see the elf's true intent.Kimchiku grasped its hilt, slicing head from shoulder in one swift movement!

Beneath his blade the headless Lord dropped stiffly to his knees. And the water's of the dune submerged about his lifeless waist, willing to drag him under. Within its depth a great light began to glow. Blindingly it pierced through his wounds, cracking his stone surface with a destructive force. And throughout the Ribbon Dunes his Creed shared in his fate, as though somehow the spirit of these beings were as one – the Lord of Earth the source of origin whom now lay slain before all.

In a shatter of rock the earthly Lord was destroyed – as too were his Creed. No more would they rein over Kimchiku's people. A new Kingship had finally risen.

King Evil's archers prepared to take aim. Zack and Suzan stood together, unwilling to show fear. But in the blinding light of sun a great shadow grew. Its silhouette wings tucked inward, before a three headed beast dived toward King Evil's ship under a rain of pellets from an aircraft that followed.

The dragon came swift and Earru did tug its reins sharp. With breathing precision it swooped across the top of sail, engulfing them in a ball of fire as it did so. But the aircraft which followed was too close, and blinded by the flames it crashed. Quickly, Zack and Suzan dashed for cover as the propellers tore across the deck, shredding all that would dare stand in its way. And the sails above burned heavily, the fire now rapidly spreading throughout the ship as its bow began to tilt. There was nothing that anyone could do. With its stern fuming in a dark trail of smoke, the ship was set upon a downward venture. And as with the fate of many lost to the battle of the sky, the Dunes of Earthly Time eagerly awaited below.

Swiftly the dragon trailed its line of descent, hoping to snatch Zack and Suzan before it was too late – Snatch! – Upon the first attempt it fell short of its mark. But again it would try, over and over, constantly hindered by debris as the ship now stripped its self apart in its descent. And below the earth grew near for time was of short, Zack and Suzan desperately trying to climb to the stern for a clearer reach – Snatch! – But again the dragon had missed. However, upon the next it did not, swooping low before rising high to an air of safety as the ship crashed to the earth!

King Evil braced himself. Like every good husband, it appeared that he had seriously underestimated his wife.

Somewhere within the aftermath a golden crown spun upon its edge. With a smoky thud it hit the earth, 'AND... CUT!' Promptly, a clapper board marked the scene, 'OKAY PEOPLE; THAT'S A WRAP!'

Apparently, due to unforeseen circumstances, Season Two: The Trouble with Kingship had just been cancelled.

Long live the King...

Chapter 18

One Last Voyage

And so the battle between the Men of Lion and those of the Creed came to pass. That night beneath the stars a great fire was lit and they did dance and sing, celebrating the spirit of their fathers' and all whom answered their call. And above the highest peak of their land, Queen Lioness Somichi welcomed Professor Clayton and Captain Frances as honorary braves to her people. For Zack, Suzan and Estaru however – not only were they to be honorary braves – but they were also given the Chi towa, a symbol of loyalty and friendship forevermore. And it was here that Kimchiku would stand proudly before the Council of Elders. The bloodline was at last restored for he was to be King by right. In his acceptance his people would be united, and they did call is name aloud in honour of his Kingship. And in the night's sky the stars of their fathers' shun brightly, reshaping among Mother Nature's moon, for the way of the children of tomorrow was not yet to be written. Dreams lived on. Kimchiku's people were free... and all was at last at peace.

In the many days thereafter, Kimchiku stood among the Ribbon Dunes once more. There he did spread the ashes of those whom did not return from the great battle, given back to the earth a symbol of hope and rebirth. What you take you must return, he would say, and to this day a fresh green grass grows now about the sands of time. And as far as the eye can see, waters flow like souls to the heavens beneath an array of golden light. But within the highest dune stands a signal spear of war, a reminder to all that freedom does not come without price – as too may the earth endure if only hope should remain in our hearts. This was the way of his Fathers and their spirits of old. This was the way of the Men of Lion.

As the sun set about the Spear of Remembrance, Zack and Suzan knew that their time with the Men of Lion had come now to its end. Though they did not wish to leave, with the return of Professor Clayton and Captain Frances, the voyage home was never far from their minds. But Captain Frances' ship had sustained a great deal of damage. In the time it would take to repair, Professor Clayton charted their course for home. From the Professor's previous study he noted that the crystal's strength seemed to be weakening? Perhaps, he thought, this meant that they had only a limited time in which to use it? After such he would fear, its use may never fully be restored. In theory, however, if he could locate the point of origin that brought them to this world, then so too should he find a path of return to their own?

At least that was the theory

And so on the twenty–seconded dawn after the battle of the Creed, the day of departure had finally arrived. It was time to say goodbye. Zack and Suzan just wished that it wasn't so soon... or so it would seem.

'You must understand; we cannot stay even if our hearts so desire,' said Professor Clayton, standing alongside the boarding platform to Captain Frances' ship as an honour guard of Lion Men lined its path, 'our time here has come to its end. This is not our rightful world nor place and time. In our coming here all has at last been put to right. Now the only thing left to say... is farewell.'

'I just wish that somehow it had all worked out?' said Zack, seeing Captain Frances making ready his sails, 'why does it have to end like this; why can't it not end right for once?'

'I fear that that is a question I cannot answer,' said Professor Clayton with regret, 'but I do know that as long as you two have each other – through times of joy or sadness – then what does it matter how all else unfolds?'

'Have strength young Blue Eye,' spoke Queen Lioness Somcihi, 'for you go now with the courage of my people in your heart. And when the night is darkest, search stars above for there will you find us... and never shall you walk alone.'

'Besides,' said Droc, taking a puff from his dwarven pipe while approaching, 'I'd say that you've had a pretty successful quest, eh? – Admittedly, a tad bit shaky at the start, but that is no reason why we should part on such a sad note, so to speak.'

'The odd misunderstanding,' laughed Zack and Suzan, happy to see that he and his mighty fellows had come to say farewell.

'Almost being eaten alive,' said Airtu.

'Twice...' added Earru.

Droc twiddled his thumbs nervously, 'yes, well I think you will find that that business with the dragon didn't actually count, as such?'

'Nevertheless, it's good to see that you came to say goodbye,' said Suzan.

'Ach, I wouldn't miss it for the world my dear lady,' he said somewhat embarrassedly, 'after all, what else are friends for but to wish each other well on their way.'

'That is very kind of you, and I shall not forget it.'

'Careful now mill–Lady... or I'll end up getting shivers all down my beard,' he replied before giving her a hug, 'the boys and I will miss you both. Take care, and perhaps one day we'll meet again?'

'Perhaps...?'

'On the plus side however,' began Morku, 'no doubt our adventure will make an interesting read for the Council when we get back?'

'Especially the part about quality of leadership,' added Samif with a smirk, 'not forgetting, of course, how we ended up with a dragon that we were supposes to slain?' he continued, 'that I think you will agree, should be the most interesting part of all?'

From a distance, Shorty's ears popped up?

'Now let's not be too hasty,' pleaded Droc, 'I'm sure there's something we could do to bring about a more, shall we say... favourable review?' It wasn't Likely. 'But we're a team – Fearless – Resourceful – Devilishly underestimated?' Strangely, a dragon seemed to be eyeing him straight between the eyes? 'Don't you dare give me that look...' he said in defiance, 'if it wasn't for me you would be having a bath right now.'

The dragon hissed. Once again...Droc was on the run!

'It looks like they will be just fine,' said Estaru, 'as for I, it seems that our time together was somewhat short lived I fear?'

'You never did tell us why you were held captive by those pirates, did you?' said Zack.

'Let us just say that for far too long I had lost my way,' he replied, 'but then I was reminded of what it was once like to be honorable.' He knelt down, placing a hand on Zack's shoulder, 'for all my faults I owe you at least that much.'

'You see,' began Suzan cheerfully, 'I was right about you, wasn't I? You're not as bad as you might like people to believe you are, are you?'

'Let's not get too carried away,' said Estaru, glancing about uncomfortably while lowering his voice, 'especially when in the company of so many...'

'Your secreted is safe with me,' she whispered, 'I won't tell anyone... if you don't?'

Estaru smiled, 'then it seems that I am at your mercy.' He rose now to his feet, 'take care my young companions, and remember to stay true to your hearts... as will I.'

Zack now took one last glance back along the pathway, 'I had hoped that Cara would come to say goodbye?' he sighed as Professor Clayton prepared to board Captain Frances' ship, 'it would have been nice...'

'Has anyone seen my tooth brush?' yelled a voice from somewhere beneath a rather stubborn heap of luggage, 'and where's the bellboy at?' A bag fumbled to the ground, 'five bucks and this is the kind of service I get...hell no!'

'Speak of bad demons,' said Estaru, finding it wise to move aside, 'here she comes...'

'And just where on earth do you think you're going?' asked Professor Clayton curiously.

A pair of dark shades flick through the air, 'didn't you get the memo; I'm going with you guys,' said Cara, 'I've got my PJ's ready, some sun lotion and an in–flight promo which is shaping up to be pretty cool.' She gave him a dazzling smile, 'what are we waiting for; its vacation time...Now just show me the way to the red carpet baby, because I'm about to have me some fun!'

'But you cannot come with us,' said Suzan, 'you belong here with the others... just as we belong elsewhere.'

Cara's luggage moaned with disappointment?

'What in the world?!' she gasped, eyeing the small clan of Magical Locks with displease, 'quick, someone call customs – we've got stowaways on board!'

'You don't understand Cara... this is where we say goodbye,' said Zack, 'We can't take any of you with us; not where we're going.'

'Oh I know,' she conceded, 'it's just with everything that we've been through and all,' she looked about aimlessly, 'well you know... saying goodbye is just so hard, that's all.'

'Cheer up, Cara,' said Suzan, 'who knows when our paths might cross again?'

'I've got to be honest with you,' she replied will wiping her nose with a hanky, 'if it involves another world winning adventure, you can go ahead and count me out...You kids are just too darn crazy for me!'

'It's time,' said Professor Clayton, 'Captain Frances waits...'

'Well this is it, I guess?' shrugged Zack, 'we'll miss you,' He turned to Cara once again, 'but I think that I will miss you most of all.'

'So long kiddo,' she replied quietly, tearful as she watched him now board Captain Frances' ship, 'it's been one heck of an audition.'

And so it was that Professor Clayton and his young companions set their sights upon one last voyage together. Standing atop of deck, they did wave farewell to all as the ship began to rise.

'Alright Professor,' yelled Captain Frances, 'I'm not one for saying goodbye so let's get this ship in the clouds.' He spun the wheel hard, 'with a few modifications I've managed to turn this vessel into a one man crew – Now all I need from you is a course, if you will?'

'Home...' replied Professor Clayton, 'as swift as the wind can carry us.'

'Aye – Aye, Professor... homeward bound it is.'

Zack sighed, knowing what was to come, 'but where is home?' he asked, 'Where do we belong, Suzie?'

Suzan held his hand, 'where ever we may be,' she replied, 'our home is together... just like it has always been.'

Zack smiled. It may not have been the perfect ending that he had hoped for, but standing now hand in hand by Suzan's side, somehow... it didn't seem all that bad.

Epilogue

The sound of hastily steps echoed alone the lone corridors of the Sisters of the Blessed Orphanage. Zack and Suzan had no idea why they had been summoned to the Headmistress' Office. However, forced to bring what little belongings that they had with them, somehow the outcome didn't seem all that hopeful as they followed Sister Marry. At the end of the main corridor – hidden in the gloomy shadows – a door stood quite tall and unwelcoming. Sister Marry knocked firmly before attempting to open it. Inside, Sister Clancy sat at her desk. As ever she held a cold frown upon her face. Zack placed his luggage on the floor outside, respectfully removing his cap as he did so. Suzan stayed close to his side, and the floor creaked angrily beneath their feet as they dared to enter.

Across from Sister Clancy a gentleman lay comfortably seated. He reached into his side pocket, producing a white envelope sealed of a wax. Smoothly he placed it upon her desk, 'I trust you will find that everything is in order...?' said Professor Clayton.

Sister Clancy slid the envelope into her hand, 'of course, Professor,' she replied, 'I am quite certain that I shall have little reservations about your care of duty – if any at all. And once again, I do apologies for the untimely delay.'

'Thing nothing of the sort, Sister.'

'Professor... what's happening?' asked Zack.

'Allow me a moment to explain,' he said while straightening his tie as he stood, 'it seems that in my time spent wondering about on some foolish voyage or other, Miss Evens – the lady whom sees to my personal estate while I am away – has felt somewhat lonely.' He stepped forward as Jeffery took care of their luggage outside, 'she seems to think that adopting a child may liven up the old place as it were? – She can be surprisingly stubborn at times, and Jeffrey here... well, he is somewhat concerned about that fateful day when the Manner shall need an heir.'

'And what do you think?' asked Suzan cheerfully.

He gave her a wink of his eye, 'occasionally, they do have their moments... if only you would do me the honour in accepting? However, before you reply there is something that you both ought to know,' they eyed each other wearily – Professor Clayton smiled, '... you will find that I am not the type of person to take no for an answer so easily.'

Zack and Suzan hugged Professor Clayton, 'welcome back, Professor,' they said, 'we've missed you.'

'No my young companions, I think that the phrase you are looking for is welcome home,' he simple replied, 'welcome home...'

The End

**About The Author**

A. G. Higgins was born in Co. Kilkenny, amid a rich and wondrous history of Ireland's most Medieval City; which is to blame for his wild imagination's growth... and perhaps Walt Disney too. Hindered by dyslexia, he decided to set himself a challenge to write a novel - He called it The Fallen Prince That Never Was.

