Continuing last week’s stories which you can find here (Monday), here (Wed) here (Saturday) and part four here. I thought to wrap it up today, but it seems this story likes itself too much.
‘Ugghh.’ Janet crinkled her nose at the stink within the slime-dripped rock walls and the bone-strewn tunnel.
Dragon breathed a little fire and for a moment the smell was overtaken by the more pleasant one of hot flames. But …
‘Hush, Dragon,’ Janet softly warned. ‘We don’t want to give ourselves away too soon.’
Dragon hung his head and nudged Janet to show he understood.
With Janet leading the way, the four adventurers crept through the cold, silent tunnels, their way lit by greasy-smelling rushes stuffed into iron braziers haphazardly bolted to the stone. Above the greasy smell, the stink of giant grew until Janet thought she might suffocate. She glanced at Pixie, whose normally pink face had taken on a greenish tinge. Fairy sat beside him on Dragon’s neck, her pearly wings faded and her golden hair lacklustre.
Only Dragon seemed unaffected by the smell. His eyes glowed as bright as the flames he breathed and he stepped after Janet with his head high.
After a long while, a rumble of voices sounded along the tunnel. Janet pressed herself to the cold, sticky wall and signalled to Dragon to do the same. Ahead of her stood a wide, tall doorway. Beyond, a dull orange light glowed as if the cavern within was lit only by a smouldering fire. She tiptoed closer, peered around the opening and gasped silently.
In the middle of the vast cave, two massive stone thrones rose from the rocky floor. Each throne bore an iron-barred cage holding – the king and queen. They were slumped within their prisons, eyes closed. The giant knelt before them. Even on his knees he appeared to fill the orange-glowing space. If he stood, it was possible the bristly red hair of his ugly head would brush the high ceiling.
‘Little king and queen,’ the giant boomed. Janet wanted to press her hands to her ears but she needed to keep hold of her sword. ‘Your subjects are now my subjects and will do as I say,’ the giant went on in his terrible voice. ‘Tomorrow, I will send them to war against my enemies, the fairies and pixies, to destroy them utterly.’
Fairy hovered by Janet’s ear. ‘They were the eyes we felt on us in the forest,’ she whispered. ‘Mine and Pixie’s kin, trembling at what’s to come, hoping we might rescue them from this fate.’
‘We must destroy this giant before it’s too late, and free my parents.’ Janet barely breathed the words, in case the giant heard her.
‘I will distract him,’ Fairy said, ‘and then you can attack with your sword, and Dragon with fire.’
Janet bit her lip. She stared at tiny Fairy.
‘I hope you don’t think that’s too vain,’ Fairy mouthed, ‘to think I can do that without being swatted like a fly.’
‘Not vain, but dangerous and brave.’ Janet knew it was a good plan, however, for it was one she and her friends had practised against other giants. Although none of them had been as huge as this tall green monster. She turned to Dragon. ‘Are you ready?’
Dragon dipped his great head. His long neck rippled with unshed fire.
Pixie slid to the ground. ‘I’m small enough to slip between those bars.’ He made his soft voice softer. ‘When Fairy distracts the giant, I’ll try to wake the king and queen so they’re ready to escape.’
Again Janet bit her lip. This wasn’t practice like the Goblin king set for them. This was real. She breathed in deeply, grateful for her brave companions.
‘Let’s go,’ she said.
Last instalment here
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‘I HOPE YOU DON’T THINK THAT’S TOO VAIN.’
“I hope you don’t think that’s too vain,” Sheila said, after she told her mother that she wanted to be the belle of the forthcoming high school prom.
“It’s just that I want to finish my last year of school as the prom queen. After all, I am the prettiest girl in my class and I think to not be crowned would be a disappointment.”
Her mother’s resigned smile at her daughter’s statement was recognition of Sheila’s extremely exaggerated opinion of herself.
Her daughter certainly was beautiful – had undoubtedly inherited both her mother’s and father’s good looks – but to go around trumpeting it to anyone remotely prepared to listen was totally beyond the pale.
While Sheila was still a child, Moira Swanson had tried instill a sense of modesty in her daughter. However, she seemed to be aware of her beauty from an early age and could often be found preening herself in front their full-length mirror, twisting and twirling as she practised both her smile and he stance.
Her parents tried to ween her off such traits of vanity, enrolling her in various sports so she could become more of a team player to hopefully boost her modest side, but Sheila would not be deterred and would finish the day still prancing in front of the mirror.
Now, here she was, 16 years old and determined to be formally recognised as the school beauty.
In one way, Moira hoped Sheila was not crowned prom queen – yet in another she knew how desperately her daughter wanted to be acknowledged and what it might do to her confidence if that did not happen.
“No,” she said. “I don’t think that’s too vain. However, please don’t be too disappointed if it doesn’t occur.”
“Come on, Mum, look at me, how can I not win?” Sheila enthused.
“Well, you never know,” her mother replied. “After all, being prom queen is not judged on looks alone. It’s also about popularity.”
“Oh, I’ve got that covered,” Sheila responded. “Everybody loves me, just ask them!”
Moira knew that wasn’t true. Her daughter’s conceit meant that many of her classmates disliked her intensely.
However, she hoped that, on this night of nights, her beauty would be sufficient to sway enough of her fellow schoolmates to overcome her detractors.
Still Moira had this overwhelming feeling of dread. Something about “Pride coming before a fall…”.
This giant sounds terrible and ruthless. Can’t wait to see what happens!
He is! I actually have a vague idea where this one will go … must write it before I forget