Frog Page 10

  In those few moments, Frog matured. The boy who was Chris became a second memory, existing just beneath the surface of his thoughts. His perception of standards and values took on a worldly-wise status. His wisdom became that of a travelled and educated man. However, he still looked the same and the magic of childhood remained with him; he was still a boy at heart.

  When the golden light subsided, they all looked at each other. Each one of them had a symbol, a small mark, on their foreheads. It was the sign of the burning sun. Frog reached up and examined his forehead; it felt cool to the touch.

  ‘The Circle of the Chosen is complete,’ announced the wizard.

  Frog looked around at the others, his eyes falling on Lady Dawnstar.

  ‘She really is beautiful,’ he thought to himself.

  ‘Why thank you, young Frog,’ she replied, smiling kindly.

  Frog went red with embarrassment before realising that he had not spoken out loud. ‘I didn’t say anything,’ he added quickly.

  ‘But I’m sure that you did,’ she insisted.

  ‘No need to be coy,’ said Logan. ‘I heard the compliment you gave the lady.’

  ‘And I,’ said Sir Dragonslayer and Sir Peacealot, in unison.

  ‘But I only thought it,’ protested Frog, going even redder.

  Gizmo chuckled. ‘This will take some getting used to; you will all need to sit with me and learn to control your new ability before it drives you insane.’

  ‘What new ability?’ asked Logan.

  ‘Our minds are now connected and we have the power to communicate with each other over reasonable distances like this,’ he replied smiling.

  Their mouths opened in wonder and astonishment as they realised that although Gizmo was not openly talking to them, they could hear him quite clearly.

  ‘What trickery is this?’ asked the king.

  ‘No trickery my Lord. It is the Magik of the Dimensions, a gift to aid us, to bind us together. This is how it was foretold to the Guardians,’ said Gizmo. ‘The boy is the catalyst for all that will now decide our destiny. We are bound by the symbol of light and life. Let us use its power wisely.’

  It took them some time that evening to practise and control their new gift of communicating by thoughts. All of them had at least one embarrassing moment when they unwittingly shared a personal thought. With sympathy and understanding they made light of and joked (though not unkindly) about such instances and, in the end, with Gizmo’s help and perseverance, they mastered the art of either shielding or sharing their minds and thoughts.

  It was another act which brought them closer together and strengthened the bond between them. What they also discovered was that some of them had stronger mental ties than others. For example, none of them, except Gizmo, could communicate with the king, because his thoughts were being shielded from them by the golden band that encircled his head. Frog could easily transmit and pick up thoughts with Lady Dawnstar, Sir Peacealot and Gizmo, but it took him more effort to mentally reach out to Sir Dragonslayer and Logan. In the background of their minds, there was a clear sense of each other, something that made them aware of one another’s existence. This was their bond: consciously or unconsciously, they were all connected. As the evening drew to a close, Gizmo hushed them into silence.

  ‘This new ability also brings danger. Lord Maelstrom has the power to probe minds and he will, if the opportunity arises, take great pleasure reaching out and infecting your thoughts with all manner of dreadful images and feelings. Be on your guard at all times.’

  8

  Through the Telescope

  Lady Dawnstar, Logan, Sir Dragonslayer and Sir Peacealot left Castellion Stronghold the very next day to follow Gizmo’s instructions and the next two weeks passed in the blink of an eye. Frog had been given orders to gather the other knights’ squires together and brief them of the situation, while the royal heralds toured the Stronghold, announcing the call to arms.

  A great encampment formed on the open fields outside Castellion Stronghold which grew larger each day with new arrivals. Tents and marquees were erected, flags and banners of all shapes and colours were displayed.

  As the sun was setting one evening, Frog gazed out from the battlements on to the scene, watching small camp fires spring to life and amazed at the growing tented city of the many groups and communities that were being brought together for a common cause. He came to the same viewpoint at the end of each day to watch the new arrivals and hoping to sense and finally see the others returning to safety, particularly Lady Dawnstar.

  Gizmo had been right, their powers of mental communication faded into silence as the distance between them grew. Frog had been able to sense the others for the first day of their absence from Castellion Stronghold, then, one by one, he had lost contact with each of them as their journeys took them beyond the reach of their shared thoughts. The only contact in his mind was Gizmo’s and more often than not his voice shouted in Frog’s head: ‘Will you leave me alone? If you’re going to search for the others’ presence, then channel your mind as I showed you and give me some peace!’

  Frog learned the art of control very quickly after the third warning from the wizard which involved promises of having Frog spend the day in the form of a pig amongst the other pigs in the castle’s mucky pigsty.

  Knights, men and women, visited the king for counsel and his commands. Sometimes the King would present Frog to them and sometimes they were brought to Frog for private introductions. On each occasion they would all bow and swear allegiance to the boy who stood before them, in the same way as they did for their king. People stared at the mark of the burning sun on his forehead and more than once Frog caught a glimpse of someone making the sign of the cross, or some pagan symbol, on themselves while mouthing a silent prayer as they passed by him.

  One morning, Frog had a particularly rude awakening. With a yelp, he was shocked out of his slumber as a wet, ice-cold object was thrust down his neck.

  His eyes shot open and he gasped for air, as his breath caught in his throat.

  ‘Gotcha!’ shouted Ginger with glee as he danced around Frog in excitement.

  ‘Wha! Wha! What’s going on?’ stammered Frog, his teeth starting to chatter as the cold melted into his neck and ran down the inside of his tunic. He scrabbled at his clothes to remove the lump of what he now guessed was snow or ice.

  ‘Come outside and see,’ said Ginger eagerly, and he dragged Frog to his feet towards the stable doors.

  Frog managed to loosen his clothes so that what was left of the snowball could slither out from his waist and drop to the floor.

  ‘Ginger! Give me a chance,’ he complained as he was pulled towards the courtyard. ‘It’s only snow.’

  ‘Only snow?’ Ginger replied, as they reached the open doors.

  Frog stared out on the scene before him. It was the whitest, brightest snow that he had ever seen. So white in fact that the glare was uncomfortable.

  Everything was covered in a good layer and the snow was still falling gently from a seemingly clear sky. Children were running around, kicking it and throwing snowballs at each other while older people looked skyward with concerned looks on their upturned faces. The sun was obscured by a single black cloud.

  ‘But the sky is blue. It doesn’t make sense,’ said Frog.

  ‘Wake up, slowcoach. That’s what’s so weird,’ said Ginger, scooping up another handful and pushing it under Frog’s nose. ‘The sky is blue, it’s summer!’

  ‘Not good. Definitely not good,’ said Frog.

  ‘Do you think it’s got something to do with the Frozen Wastes and the Hidden People?’ asked Ginger.

  ‘More than likely,’ replied Frog. ‘Look,’ he said, pointing towards the castle.

  ‘What?’ asked Ginger, shielding his eyes against the glare.

  ‘Up there, on the balcony of the high tower,’ said Frog with excitement. ‘It’s Gizmo, he’s waving something at the sky.’

  There was a bright orange flash which
made Frog, Ginger and the castle inhabitants duck nervously. Then the dark cloud was gone and the snow stopped falling. The sudden return of the sun in the sky increased the air temperature and melted the snow, making it evaporate into clouds of steam. Frog looked back up to the tower but the wizard was already gone from the balcony. His voice, however, appeared calmly in Frog’s mind.

  ‘Come to my chambers,’ he instructed. ‘Take the route via the air lift in the tower behind the tapestries in the royal court. Hold the chain that I gave you in your left hand and no one will see you during your journey.’

  Frog felt for the chain around his neck and a small unseen talisman settled between his fingers.

  ‘Come on, Frog,’ said Ginger, turning around and looking straight at him. ‘This is no time to play hide and seek. Where have you gone now? You can’t have gone far, you’re not that quick.’

  Frog waved his other hand in front of Ginger’s face and Ginger didn’t react.

  ‘He really can’t see me. I’m invisible!’ Frog thought to himself with glee as he carefully moved behind Ginger. This was too good an opportunity for him to miss. He reached down, picked up a handful of soggy, ice-cold straw and stuffed it quickly down the back of Ginger’s tunic.

  ‘Oh, very funny,’ shrieked Ginger, leaping around like a drunken puppet, with one hand down his tunic trying to retrieve the mucky mess and the other lashing out into thin air. ‘One day, I’ll have some magic tricks of my own and then you’re for it.’

  ‘Frog! Will you stop playing around and get up here now!’ commanded Gizmo’s voice in his head. ‘Or do I need to remind you of a vacancy that awaits you in the pigsty?’

  Frog didn’t need reminding twice and very quickly he made his way to the tower and found himself floating in the air current as he travelled up to the wizard’s apartments. Every time he took this journey he told himself not to look down but, uncontrollably, he always did and then wished that he hadn’t!

  As he stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the wizard’s apartments, he could see Gizmo seated in the chair of the giant telescope. He was staring intently with one eye into the lens. There was an enormous lump in his cheek upon which he was sucking vigorously. The laboratory seemed to be working overtime, tubes and bottles burbling and gurgling away. Liquids were mixing and separating in various places within the maze of glass shapes.

  Frog made his way down the stairs and was greeted by a large Storm, who sauntered out from behind the staircase, a bloody, chewed bone in his mouth which he promptly dropped at Frog’s feet.

  ‘No thanks, I’ve just eaten,’ said Frog nervously.

  Storm gave a low growl, rubbed his head affectionately on Frog’s leg, picked up the bone in his mouth and sauntered off in the direction of the cushioned area, only to collapse effortlessly amongst the cushions and continue to grind and crack the bone open with his large, gleaming white teeth.

  Frog wandered over to the plants, which were bathing in their usual golden glow. Some had definitely increased in size lately and towered over Frog as he walked along the benches. A particularly pretty pink plant not unlike a lily opened its petals in display as Frog approached it. Frog leant forwards and he caught a peculiar smell coming from the flower when it suddenly gave a loud belch and disgorged a collection of tiny bones onto the surrounding earth.

  ‘Oh. paleese!’ exclaimed Frog. ‘That really is gross.’

  The flower turned its head menacingly towards Frog, exposing a circle of needle-sharp teeth amongst its inner petals, and Frog thought it a good time to move away.

  Further along the bench his eye caught the glint of something lying on the earth. Looking closer he could see that it was a gold ring and, thinking that the wizard may have mislaid it there, he reached forwards to pick it up. Without warning, from out of the earth on which the ring lay, a large oval shape attached to a long green stem reared up and towered over Frog. The seam around it split open to reveal a blood-red, slavering mouth lined with rows of twisted razor-sharp barbs. Frog stared at it, mesmerised for a moment as the plant prepared to strike. Then his instincts kicked in and he grabbed the talisman around his neck and stepped quickly to one side. In that instant, the plant lunged forwards, its mouth slapping closed as it met nothing but empty air. It pulled quickly back and, if a plant could look confused, this one surely did.

  Frog slowly backed away, releasing the chain when he was at a safe distance, and wandered over to the wizard.

  ‘What bit of don’t touch, don’t you understand?’ he asked Frog without turning around.

  ‘Sorry,’ murmured Frog guiltily.

  ‘I’m just going to have to take precautions with you until I’ve finished,’ said the wizard. ‘This won’t hurt but it will keep you out of mischief for a while.’

  As Frog stood there he felt his hands drawn together as if magnetised and looking down watched in fascination as the ends of his tunic sleeves knitted themselves together, trapping his hands inside.

  ‘Now, be a good boy and sit down by Storm until I’m ready to join you,’ said Gizmo. Or would you rather that I ask Storm to come and get you?’

  ‘Okay. Okay. I get the message,’ said Frog a little embarrassed as he made his way over to the cat and plonked himself down amongst the cushions. As if to take Gizmo’s lead, Storm rolled across Frog’s lap, giving his half growl, half purr, content that Frog was not going anywhere.

  Frog leaned back and stared up at the ceiling, his eyes immediately falling on the brown leathery material stretched across the hang-glider style wings that hung above the telescope.

  ‘Now, that’s definitely a hang-glider,’ he thought to himself. ‘Where on earth did he get a hang-glider?’

  Frog’s mind drifted back to his own world and the times when he would visit an area on the edge of the chalk downs with his parents as they picnicked and watched the hang-gliders soar and swoop over the fields and meadows below. Homesickness struck his stomach like a hammer and he felt tears starting to well up in his eyes. He really needed his home, he needed to see his mum, he wanted his dad back.

  He wasn’t sure any more that he was really enjoying this adventure. A tear rolled down his cheek and he felt very much alone. He closed his eyes and a vision appeared in his mind of his home burning, his parents were trapped inside, calling out his name.

  ‘Chris! Chris! Help us, help us! Come home, come home, we need you.’ It was as though he was ensnared in a nightmare and then a voice whispered in his head.

  ‘Go home, boy. Go home. You are needed there. Even your father has returned. Who is more important to you? These strangers who are just using you for their own ends, or your family? Use the dagger and open the Slipstream. Do it, do it now!’ the voice added with urgency.

  ‘Yes, yes,’ Frog murmured to himself. ‘Open the Slipstream, use the dagger, I must go home.’

  His eyes remained closed, the vision of his burning home flickering before him. He struggled to reach the dagger on his belt, but he couldn’t free his hands.

  ‘See how they hold you prisoner?’ whispered the voice. ‘Don’t trust them, you must escape and open the Slipstream.’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ agreed Frog as he continued to struggle.

  Another voice called to him. A gentle voice this time,cutting through the awful image and dissolving it along with the sickly feeling in his stomach.

  ‘Do not be afraid, my dear Frog. It is trickery, your mother is safe, nothing has changed in your time. All is as you left it.’

  Then, there she was. Lady Dawnstar, fierce and beautiful, her face clear in his mind, smiling, lighting up the darkness and giving courage and clarity to his thoughts.

  ‘He’s mine,’ whispered the voice, now poisonous and angry. ‘Interfere at your peril, you fool of a woman.’

  ‘Be gone, you false lord, for I am no ordinary woman and I will be there at your day of reckoning,’ she replied sternly. Touching the sun on her forehead, she flooded Frog’s thoughts with a golden, warm glow, which cleared all sense of doub
t and concern from his mind. The threat of the whispering voice was gone and he opened his eyes. Storm, now in the shape of a normal-size cat, lay on his lap, purring and preening at Frog’s chest. He brought up his hand and absently stroked the cat, accepting without surprise that his hands were now free.

  ‘She’s coming back, Storm. She’s on her way back to us, I can feel it,’ he said with a smile on his face.

  He looked up to Gizmo who was offering him a drink.

  ‘That was the first real test of your courage,’ he said. ‘Do you know whose voice that was?’

  ‘Lord Maelstrom, I presume?’ replied Frog, taking the wooden cup and gratefully drinking the cool contents. ‘Mmm! Very refreshing. More magic?’ he asked.

  ‘No, just home-made pear cordial,’ said the wizard.

  ‘The Dark Lord found a weakness in your memories and was testing you. In fact, as you saw earlier, he is testing his strength and his influence across the land.’

  ‘You mean the snow?’ enquired Frog.

  ‘The very same,’ said Gizmo. ‘He is trying to put doubts in the people’s minds, but it has just confirmed to me that he is only capable at present of producing annoying illusions. Come here, I want you to see something.’ He led Frog over to the giant telescope and instructed him to sit in the chair.

  ‘Do I get a gobstopper too?’ asked Frog hopefully.

  ‘Only if it serves to keep you quiet for a while.’ Gizmo touched the jar which proceeded to rattle. A hole appeared in the top and a bright blue ball shot into the air.

  ‘If you want it, you’d better catch it yourself,’ said Gizmo.

  As before, the ball arced downward but this time Frog was ready. He caught it firmly in his hand and then quickly popped it into his mouth.

  ‘Happy now?’ asked the wizard.

  ‘Yepth phanku,’ said Frog, surprised at how big the gobstopper was in his mouth. ‘Naw I no hy they cawed gostophers.’

  ‘Enough!’ reproached the wizard. ‘Now, look into the eyepiece.’

  Frog leant forward and did as he was told, the gobstopper rattling against his teeth. What he saw nearly made him cough it out.