Frog Read online

  Chris wandered over to the strange, giant telescope and studied the levers and the large glass jar filled with coloured balls. He found it too tempting to resist, and reached out and touched the glass.

  All of a sudden the jar vibrated and the contents started to rattle and move around. Alarmed, Chris stood back as a hole appeared in the centre of the glass lid and a blue-coloured ball shot high into the air. Both Chris’s and the cat’s eyes followed it intently as it arced and came back down towards them. Just as the ball was above his head, a hand shot out from behind him and caught it.

  ‘I told you not to touch,’ said the wizard sternly. ‘I would advise that you be more careful in future. If you had gone poking around amongst my little garden over there, my vampire plants would have had a couple of your fingers off!’

  Chris brought his hand up and continued to stroke the cat as if to reassure himself that his fingers were still attached and in the right order.

  ‘I just wanted to know what all those coloured balls were for,’ he said.

  ‘They help me to focus on the stars and constellations while I spend many hours searching the cosmos for answers and signs,’ said the wizard.

  ‘Do you use them to represent the planets?’ enquired Chris.

  ‘No, they’re much more fun than that,’ Gizmo replied, popping the blue ball into his mouth. ‘They’re gobstoppers and they help me to concentrate! Now, you didn’t touch any of the levers, did you?’

  ‘No, no,’ said Chris. ‘I was just being curious, that’s all.’

  ‘Curiosity killed the cat, that’s what they say isn’t it?’ Although I don’t think Storm would agree, would you, my friend?’ He gently ruffled the cat’s fur.

  ‘St ... Storm?’ stammered Chris, looking around nervously.

  ‘Nothing is as it seems, my young friend, and Storm here is your first lesson. There is a saying, “If you change the way you look at things, then the things you look at, change”.’

  Chris looked down at the cat which looked back at him with deep, dark eyes and Chris felt the tips of the cat’s sharp claws flex themselves through his sweatshirt.

  ‘I should carry on stroking him for a while until he decides that he’s had enough. He’s not due to morph again until he gets hungry so you’ve got plenty of time to get acquainted,’ advised the wizard as he made his way towards the laboratory. ‘Now you must excuse me while I tidy up before our guests arrive.’

  Chris held on to the cat which somehow felt much heavier now, or was that just his imagination?

  ‘Nice kit—’ he began and then stopped himself, suddenly remembering the earlier warning. ‘Nice cat, nice Storm.’ The response was a purr which was much too loud for the size of the cat in Chris’s arms.

  Eventually, Storm jumped down and sauntered off. Chris collapsed on to one of the large cushions, vowing to give Storm a wide berth in future. A few minutes later he saw the cat dart across the beams above him, in pursuit of a smaller shadow.

  ‘Well at least that explains one thing,’ he thought to himself as he felt his eyelids grow heavy and the warm comfort of sleep tempted his tired mind to rest.

  The low sound of conversation eventually woke him and he opened his eyes to see a group of people gathered around the fire, each with a tankard or goblet in their hands.

  The wizard turned, as if sensing that Chris was awake.

  ‘Ah, I hope you are now refreshed, my young friend, for now is the time of introductions, questions and revelations. Come and join us and I will get you a reviving drink to sharpen your senses,’ he coaxed.

  The other members of the group turned to Chris. There was the lady knight, Sir Peacealot (minus any dribble on his chin, Chris noticed thankfully,) the knight with the tanned skin and, in the centre of the group, the king. The two knights were out of their armour and dressed in brown leather leggings and jerkins. Both were still armed with swords and even without their armour they looked formidable.

  Chris sat there feeling awkward and not sure what to say, but his predicament was solved by the lady. She placed her goblet on the stone hearth and moved towards him, putting her hand out to help him up.

  ‘Come, young squire, do not be afraid or shy, you are among friends. Friends that according to the wizard’s instructions should afford the same duty to you as they do to their king and protect you with their lives.’

  Chris was impressed by her words, but it was the sound of her voice and her radiant face that enchanted him. As she took his hand, she smiled and for an instant he was lost dreamily in her smile, then all of a sudden the smile disappeared, her face hardened and the grip on his hand tightened as she pulled him sharply towards her and down to the floor where she stepped over him and drew her sword. There was a shout behind her and the sound of other swords being released from their scabbards.

  As he turned around on the floor behind her, he looked up to see a dark shape with venomous red eyes and blood-red needle teeth swooping down from the rafters towards him, its black furry body propelled through the air by a pair of leathery bat-like wings. She held her hand out in front of her, as if instructing the creature to stop, then with little more that a metre separating it from her, she brought her blade over her shoulder and sliced it neatly in two. The halves dropped to the floor, each wing still flapping, still trying to reach its quarry.

  Two streaks of blue lightning shot across the room and struck the quivering remains, and the bloody carcass disappeared in a puff of acrid smoke.

  Chris felt hands lift him and he was placed beside the king as Sir Peacealot and the tanned Knight closed ranks and stood in front of them, acting as a barrier, their swords at the ready.

  The wizard stepped forward, cupped his hands, and an orb of blue light appeared in his palms. He spoke some strange words into the orb and it rose and floated up to the rafters.

  ‘Shield your eyes!’ shouted the wizard, and they quickly followed his command. The flash of bright light that bathed the room for only a second shone through their raised hands and pierced their eyelids with its intensity, causing them to blink.

  ‘If there were any more of the creatures hiding anywhere they will have met the same fate as the last one,’ said the wizard. ‘I don’t know how it managed to get in and past Storm, but none will be able to follow. I have now sealed the room with Magik strong enough to ensure our safety.

  ‘What was it?’ asked Chris nervously.

  ‘Bat-rat,’ replied the lady. ‘A spy of Lord Maelstrom and a carrier of plagues. One bite or scratch and within an hour you become one of the living dead.’

  ‘Definitely not my idea of fun,’ said Chris.

  The king turned to Chris. ‘Gizmo said you had spirit, now let’s have a good look at you boy.’

  Chris moved a pace back and the three knights joined the king in a semicircle around him, which made him feel very self-conscious.

  ‘Sheath those swords,’ ordered the king. ‘There’ll be plenty of time for him to get used to the sight of them.’

  All three obeyed, but Chris could see that their hands did not stray from the hilts and their eyes were alert for any other movements from above.

  Gizmo brought Chris a small goblet.

  ‘Here, drink this, it will revive and refresh you, no magic I promise you, just good to honest fruit and herbs.’

  Chris took the goblet and gave the contents a sniff. Satisfied, he took a sip.

  The king laughed and the others followed suit. ‘I see he has the measure of you, Master Wizard. He has already learned to use his intuition before trusting his new acquaintances.’

  ‘Trust will separate his friends from his enemies and his intuition will save his life and hold the future of our world in the balance,’ said the wizard. ‘These things will come to pass and so let us now bring the boy into our confidence and inform Sir Peacealot of matters he has missed. Unbuckle those swords and let us sit in conference.’

  They all took their places amongst the cushions and rugs, all three knights doing as t
hey were told but choosing to keep their weapons close to them. The lady knight patted the cushions between herself and the king and motioned for Chris to sit there. He looked at Gizmo who nodded in agreement. Once they were all seated, Gizmo spoke.

  ‘Now is the time for proper introductions to the boy.’

  ‘Excuse me,’ said Chris. ‘But I do have a name you know, other than “boy” or “squire”. My name is Christopher, Chris for short.’

  ‘In your world, maybe, but it cannot be widely used in this one. Not yet at least,’ said Gizmo. ‘Your real identity must be guarded closely.’

  ‘Well, what are you going to call me?’ asked Chris.

  ‘The name will not be selected by us,’ said the wizard. ‘But when it is given to you it will be accepted by all. Until that moment you will be referred to as Sir Peacealot’s squire. Now, to introductions. I would suggest we start with you, my lady.

  In the moment that Lady Dawnstar turned and spoke her name to Chris, he knew that he had met someone who was going to be very important to him. He wasn’t sure whether it was because, in the back of his mind, she reminded him of his mum (although she looked younger than his mum), or because she had certainly saved his life earlier. He also noticed her eyes again. This time they were a lighter grey, almost a moonlight grey.

  She told him that she was in fact a cousin of the king but had grown up not wanting the trappings of royalty and had rebelled at an early age. When other members of the royal household were at court, behaving and socialising as royalty should, she was missing. She preferred the company of the ordinary children, and especially to join in with the boys and their rough and tumble games. She had quickly built up two reputations, one at court for being troublesome and unruly and the other with the town’s children for being able to beat all of the boys at arm-wrestling and most forms of mock battle games. As she grew older, her skills in combat had become legendary and she was the first young girl not only to enter the tournaments but also to win most of the trophies!

  She had earned her knighthood (she would not have had it any other way) when she had rescued some villagers that were being attacked by a vicious Stone Org. Single-handed, she fought with it for many hours, finally defeating and slaying the monster. This had confirmed her status in the land as a heroine and protector of the people. Now she was a member of the Chosen, an elite group who were dedicated to defending Castellion and the Dimensions from evil.

  ‘You have been sent to us to help us in our endeavours, and I in turn pledge my breath and blood to protecting you,’ she said as she reached inside her tunic and brought out an object which she offered to Chris.

  ‘Take this, it is a token of my pledge, carry it with you always, you will only be able to use it once in this world and that will be when there is no other help in sight.’

  Chris took the object, which was a small crystal glass whistle with an ornate silver cap around the mouthpiece. He turned it over in his hand, the delicate frosted pattern reflecting the light of the candles.

  ‘I’m afraid that I’ll break it,’ he said.

  ‘You mean like this?’ said Lady Dawnstar, taking it back from him and throwing it onto the stone floor. He looked in dismay as she stamped on it and ground it with her heel.

  ‘Why bother to give it to me if you were going to break it anyway?’ asked Chris.

  ‘Remember, things are not always as they seem,’ she replied, and lifted her foot. Lying perfect and unbroken, was the whistle. She handed it back to Chris.

  ‘Do not fear, you cannot break it. It was made from diamonds, liquefied and shaped by the glass smiths of Lire and is very rare. The Bird Men of the Eastern Highlands used them once to train their flocks. Many years ago a great plague visited the land and nearly wiped out all the birds of the air and so they took the surviving few and retreated to the mountain passes and high peaks where they shut themselves off from the rest of our world. No one truly knows if they survive, but it is said that one day they will return when they are needed to save the skies from darkness. Perhaps you will be the one to use it and summon the Bird Men when the time is right.’

  Chris looked at the whistle in his hand. It still looked fragile to him so he tucked it carefully away into the leg pocket of his combats.

  The dark-skinned knight stood.

  ‘My name is Sir Cassius Dragonslayer. I am the king’s crusader and protector. I, too, give my oath to shield and defend you with my breath and blood. Take off your jerkin and come here,’ he ordered, not unkindly.

  Curious, Chris stood and removed his sweatshirt.

  ‘The undergarment also,’ prompted the Sir Dragonslayer.

  Chris self-consciously removed his T-shirt. He was so glad that he had kept up his tae kwon do exercises, as in the last year he had grown from a somewhat scrawny frame to a more muscular and wiry shape.

  ‘Try this on for size,’ said Sir Dragonslayer, passing Chris a bundle of leather-like material. Chris unfolded it. It was a waistcoat of sorts, but instead of buttons, the front had strings of leather to tie together. He put it over himself. It felt soft to the touch on the inside but the surface was strange, with small overlapping diamond shapes of a dull brown colour which reminded him of fish scales.

  ‘Here, let me help you,’ said Sir Dragonslayer, securing the ties. ‘How does that feel?’

  ‘Fine,’ replied Chris. ‘It’s very light and comfortable.’

  ‘You wear it under your other garments,’ instructed Sir Dragonslayer.

  ‘Why?’ enquired Chris.

  ‘In case something like this happens,’ he replied, and walked across the room.

  Suddenly Sir Dragonslayer turned, drew a small dagger from his belt and threw it.

  Chris did not have a chance; he was frozen to the spot as the dagger flew towards him. He watched it as if in slow motion as the handle spun and the point of the blade arrowed its way to his heart. He closed his eyes. There was a dull thud as it connected with his chest and bounced off, rattling away across the floor. He opened his eyes and looked down at the garment;

  there was not a mark on it. Then with relief and amazement he looked at Sir Dragonslayer.

  ‘Dragon skin,’ he said, retrieving his blade. ‘It will protect you from most things but it does have its limitations, as its previous owner found out.’ He grinned.

  ‘You took it from a dragon?’ asked Chris.

  ‘The toughest, meanest, most cunning and vicious old dragon that walked this world,’ said Sir Dragonslayer. He indicated for Chris to sit as he made himself comfortable on the cushions.

  ‘I am a dragon-hunter by profession, choosing to track down and tame them rather than kill them. They are valuable resources in battle and once you have their allegiance they will never betray or fail you. It’s not easy though, they are normally solitary creatures and do not get on well with their own kind. They will defend their treasures ferociously and unfortunately they do have a taste for cattle and sheep. You also need to speak their language, they communicate telepathically, so all that most people hear are hisses and grunts. But, once a dragon fixes a link with you, then you can talk to all dragons. This takes great trust and understanding as you have to convince them that you do not want to take their treasure and you have to get them to agree to stop attacking farms and roasting the livestock! When you get an agreement with the townsfolk in the farms and villages (which is sometimes just as hard as taming the dragon), they will breed stock as food for the dragon in exchange for gold or jewels and protection from other dragons or robbers.

  ‘Unfortunately, you can come across the odd rogue dragon who just wants to terrorise the countryside and not only has a taste for farm animals but is also quite partial to humans. They’re usually in the service of the darker forces whose mission is to cause death and destruction across the land. That’s when my negotiating skills are put away and my sword comes out. Our old friend, a part of whom you are wearing, was one such dragon. This is my gift to you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said C
hris.

  Sir Peacealot spoke. ‘I have a lot to thank you for, you released me and brought me back to my world and my friends. I must admit I have no idea how long I would have lain there undiscovered.’

  ‘It really was an accident,’ admitted Chris.

  ‘Accident or no, you have conducted yourself well and destiny has brought you to us. I would be proud to have you as my squire and companion and I, too, pledge my life’s breath and blood to your protection. Here, take this as a token of my bond.’

  He handed a decorated leather scabbard and belt to Chris; the handle of the short sword it contained was of a grey metal with runes etched along it. Chris steadily unsheathed the blade which flashed and reflected polished steel.

  ‘I’m not sure that I should really have this, I’ve always been told to keep away from knives and weapons,’ he said.

  ‘In your world I’m sure that is good advice,’ said Sir Peacealot. ‘But here it is a different matter. It was given to me by the wizard and it has his mark on it. Wear it with pride and draw it only when needed, it will help in your transformation to appear as a royal knight’s squire, for that is all you must seem until the time is right.’

  ‘But, I don’t really understand what you expect of me,’ said Chris.

  Up until this point Gizmo had been standing back by the fireplace, listening and watching. Now he stepped forward.

  ‘You are the future, you are the past. You are our survival or our destruction. You are the prophecy and the legend.’

  ‘But I’m just an ordinary boy,’ protested Chris.

  The wizard leaned forwards. ‘How many more times must you be told? Things are ...’

  ‘I know, I know,’ interrupted Chris. ‘Things are not always what they seem.’

  ‘Exactly,’ smiled the wizard. ‘Now listen to our noble King Hector.’

  Chris turned to face the man, who despite his position as king, had been sitting patiently and quietly throughout the proceedings.

  ‘Let me be honest with you, young man, none of us knows for certain what the future will bring, not even our most trusted wizard and Guardian,’ he indicated to Gizmo. ‘We only know that there are two paths in destiny, one good and the other bad. We stand for the path of good as do all the Guardians of the Four Dimensions. There is now, and always has been, a force, which follows the dark and evil ways. It rises like a wave through history and time to challenge us in its quest to bring chaos and misery to all worlds. A new wave is on the horizon, there is uncertainty across the land, a restlessness.’