The
Virtual
Realm

By Random Scribbles for Tann

"An episode, either a retelling of one of the originals or a new one, told as if the Young Ones had been British."
Complete with a picture at the end!

ALLIES

-x-

Mavis Swift sullenly kicked a nearby pebble as she trudged past, only to see it raise itself up on several short legs and scuttle away into the long grass with a hiss.

‘This is a dream,’ she told herself, ‘has to be.’

‘T’int,’ called her sister from behind her. ‘Me and Trev wouldn’t be here an’ all if it were, would we?’

Mavis shrugged. ‘Maybe I’m just dreaming you saying that. Maybe we’re all dreaming together.’

‘Well, dream a bit slower, would you? We can’t keep up!’

 

She turned in the road, her arms folded, and waited for the other two to catch up with her. Her younger sister had always walked slower than her, but Mavis could tell that Edie was keeping a particularly slow pace as they cut their path through the strange new countryside so as not to leave Trevor behind. The boy was clearly struggling as he tried to limp at top speed along the pathway.

‘P’raps that bomb killed us,’ panted Trevor as he hobbled towards her, ‘and we’re in Heaven… or, you know, the Other Place.’

Edie cocked an eyebrow at Trevor. ‘Don’t be daft, Trev. If we were in Heaven, there’d be Angels and Jesus and your leg would be better.’

‘And if it was Hell?’ Trevor added.

Edie shrugged. ‘We’d all have Gammy Legs? And there’d be fire…’

‘…and Nazis,’ added Mavis. She spat on the grass.

‘Oi!’ Edie exclaimed. ‘I’ll tell Mum you’ve been spitting.’

‘You’re allowed to spit after you say “Nazis”,’ Trevor informed her with an air of know-how.

‘Really?’ Edie grinned. ‘Nazis!’ With that, she hocked back a good mouth of phlegm and enthusiastically spat it into the distance.

Mavis pushed her hands into her pockets and started sauntering along the path again. ‘You don’t have to enjoy it so much, you know.’

‘Hey!’ Trevor tried his best to limp alongside Mavis. ‘Maybe it is the Nazis, Mave.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Maybe that bomb was one of Herr Hitler’s new weapons… an experiment or something. Maybe, instead of killing people, it brings them… well… here.’

‘And where is “here”?’ Mavis asked with a sigh.

Trevor looked lost. ‘Dunno. Maybe that’s the experiment – like an Intelligence Test.’

 

An unkind thought about Trevor’s past record with aptitude tests flashed into Mavis’ mind, but she managed to suppress it quickly without giving it voice. It wasn’t Trevor’s fault that he couldn’t walk fast, and she knew that he hated his crooked leg just as much as she hated her own situation. Only now, all of a sudden, her situation was much, much worse than it had previously been. There had been a far-off whistle, then a flash of light and energy… that in itself hadn’t been particularly unusual – Nottingham had been bombed at irregular intervals for the last two years - but instead of coming around from the blast bleeding in rubble or bandaged in a hospital, the three of them had found themselves intact and unbruised, but in a desolate valley in this strange land. They had tried calling for help, but nobody had answered. After a while, Mavis had taken the decision that they should follow the path to see if it would take them to some sort of civilisation. They had seen nothing so far, however, that suggested there was so much as another living soul about, and panic was beginning to gnaw at her insides as badly as her hunger did. She was getting very tired, and very worried, and above everything, she was really, really in need of a nice, hot cup of tea.

 

Come on, Mave, she told herself, I’ll bet Bert has it worse than this each and every day. And does he moan? Come on. What would Bert do if he was here?

‘I don’t think Herr Hitler’s behind this one,’ she told Trevor with what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

Trevor shrugged, lopsidedly. ‘Dunno, Mave. I told you about that bad dream I been having the last few nights, didn’t I?’

‘We all have nightmares about Old Mister Hitler these days,’ sighed Mavis.

‘Face like that,’ piped Edie, cheerfully from behind them, ‘can anyone blame us?’

‘It wasn’t Hitler, exactly,’ said Trevor with a small frown. ‘It’s like… it was someone… something… I don’t know, made of the same stuff Hitler’s made of. The same control, the same destruction, the same…’

‘Evil,’ Mavis breathed.

‘The same stink!’ added Edie, catching up with the other two. ‘Cheer up, you Mardy buggers.’ The younger girl cleared her throat and began to sing. ‘Hitler! Has only got one ball! T’other! Is in the Albert Hall! His mother, the dirty bugger, she cut it o-hoff when he-ee was…’

There was a sudden, loud noise, cutting the younger girl off in mid song. It was a sound that was distressingly familiar to the trio – the sound of a large, nearby explosion.

 

Momentarily, they froze on the spot as they each tried to process the situation.

‘They found us!’ Trevor cried out. ‘It is the Germans!’

‘It’s not fair,’ Edie wailed over him, ‘there wun’t no siren, we haven’t even got our gas masks…’

Mavis grabbed the other pair, one elbow each, and started dragging them off the path. ‘Get down, you pillocks!’

‘There’s no shelter,’ her sister protested.

That was true. On automatic pilot, Mavis pulled them towards a large bush in the scrub. ‘Under there.’

‘How’s that supposed to protect us?’

‘The planes won’t be able to see us. Come on!’

The three of them sat hunched and huddled beneath the small bush and waited, their breaths held. There was another explosion even closer by, followed by an ear piercing shriek.

‘What was that?’ breathed Edie.

‘Probably an engine failing or summat,’ Mavis whispered. ‘Our boys must’ve got him, I bet.’

They paused, listening. There was a roar, and then another shriek, right on top of them.

‘That’s no engine,’ whispered Edie, wide eyed.

‘Mebby…’ Trevor stuttered, ‘what if it’s Martians?’

In spite of her fear, Mavis shared a brief smile with her sister. ‘You listen to the wireless too much, Trevor Appleby.’

There was another, more subdued roar, and the heavy sound of leather hitting the air, which rapidly faded away above them.

Mavis looked up at the foliage that sheltered them. ‘Do you think it’s safe?’

Trevor caught her arm. ‘Wait.’

‘What?’

Trevor held a finger aloft, concentrating intently on the faint noises outside the confines of the bush. ‘Somebody’s out there.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ began Edie, ‘how do you know that…’

‘Listen,’ he breathed.

They listened.

 

A male voice, almost imperceptible, drifted briefly into Mavis’ hearing.

‘…telling you… nothing… seen… waste… time… just go?’

‘…thought I saw…’ replied a second, female voice, just as faintly. ‘won’t take a… might be in trouble…’

‘…agreed,’ added a third voice, growing louder. ‘We’ll all go.’

‘There are  people out there,’ Mavis told them. ‘And I think they’re coming our way.’

‘Think they’re friendly?’ Trevor asked her.

‘They might have summat to do with whatever was up there,’ added Edie.

‘They’re probably the ones that chased it away,’ Mavis replied. ‘I think they’re all right, they’re speaking English anyways. And I think they’re…’

‘Look,’ interrupted the first voice, much clearer, ‘there’s nobody here. Besides, even if there was, we got troubles of our own without adding anyone else’s to ‘em…’

Edie gasped with excitement at the voice’s exotic accent. ‘Americans!’ she squealed, quite forgetting in her glee that they were supposed to be in hiding.

‘Wha…? Chorused a gaggle of voices from beyond the bush.

‘Edie!’ Mavis hissed in warning, but her sister was already fighting her way out of the leaves.

‘It’s all right, Mave. The Americans are here at last! We’ve been rescued by genuine American GI… Oh…’

 

Their cover blown, Mavis grudgingly picked her own way out of the foliage, offering a helping arm to Trevor as she did. She blinked at the group that had found them. She didn’t voice it, but silently her heart echoed her sister’s disappointed ‘Oh’. The Americans were not a squadron of GIs. There were only two young men, neither any older than Trevor, and two girls, one boy who looked to be about Edie’s age, and a little lad. They were in fancy dress, of all the ridiculous things! She folded her arms in irritation.

‘You know where we’re from?’ the Blond youth asked Edie.

‘You’re…’ stuttered a red haired girl, ‘you’re from Earth too?’

‘What do you mean, “from Earth too”?’ Edie asked.

‘Martians…’ muttered Trevor from the corner of his mouth.

But Mavis wasn’t particularly listening to either Edie or Trevor. She was staring at two small, strange creatures at the little boy’s ankles.

‘What the…’ Mavis paled. It wasn’t right. In storybooks and fairy tales maybe, but not in England, not even if it was the middle of nowhere. She pointed at the monsters and they stared back at her, curiously. ‘What the Hell are they?’

‘This is Uni,’ the boy replied cheerfully, tousling the little Unicorn’s mane with grubby fingers. ‘This little guy’s new.’ He picked up something that looked like an oversized domestic cat with an eagle’s head and stubby wings. It gave a growling purr in the lad’s arms. ‘I’m thinking of calling him Chuck,’ the boy added.

‘You can’t call a Griffin Chuck,’ the darker young man, and the owner of the first voice, told the boy, ‘besides, we’re not keeping him.’

‘Awww, c’mon!’ the boy protested. ‘He’s all alone an’ helpless. That dragon nearly ate him!’

Dragon? Mavis took a deep breath. She had meant to draw the breath as a calming measure but it only served to make her next exclamation particularly loud and aggressive. ‘Will you just tell us what the Bloody Hell is going on?’

 

The two bickering lads fell suddenly silent. Mavis was all too aware that all eyes were now on her. She cleared her throat in the awkward silence and raised her eyebrows at the strangers unapologetically.

‘Um.’ For the briefest moment the Blonde young man seemed to bite down a grin. ‘Sure.’ He set his face into a more serious expression. ‘I think we might have a bit of bad news for you guys.’

Mavis nodded stoically. She’d been receiving bad news for years now, she was used to its arrival. There was a procedure for taking disaster on the chin though, and standing waist deep in a bush definitely wasn’t it.

‘I think,’ piped Trevor from her side as if in answer to her thoughts, ‘we could all really do with a nice cup of tea.’

 

-x-

 

Diana sat down next to the strange English girl and passed her a rudimentary canteen.

‘Here you go, Mavis. Hope it’s OK.’

Mavis took the drink from Diana, cautiously. ‘This from Wossname’s magic Hat, is it?’

Diana shrugged. ‘Presto’s trying his hardest, but he still hasn’t got it quite right…’ There was a frustrated growl from the other side of the camp where Presto was still trying to provide something of use for the other two newcomers. ‘We thought we’d get a fire and some hot water going anyway,’ she added, ‘and you don’t live wild here without learning what plants you can eat, what you can cook… what leaves you can boil into a tea…’

Mavis took a sip and nodded. ‘Not as good as me Mum’s, but it hits the spot.’ She sniffed. ‘How long have I been sitting here, for you lot to get all that done?’

Diana sat back. ‘About an hour.’

‘You’re joking.’

Diana shook her head. ‘You got a lot to think about. It’s not every day you find yourself catapulted into a crazy fantasy world. When it happened to us I was walkin’ around in a daze for weeks.’

‘You’ve been here a long time, haven’t you?’

‘It’s hard to tell for sure,’ Diana sighed. ‘Sheila and Eric’ve both been keeping count as well as they can, we reckon it’s been about two years, give or take.

‘Two years?’ breathed Mavis. ‘So you lot won’t even know you’re at war now.’

‘Ah.’ Diana regarded Mavis’ arcane outfit and hairstyle. ‘I kinda had a feeling you were from the War.’

‘So are you lot now,’ Mavis replied. ‘Since the Japs attacked last year. Don’t worry, you’re with us lot. Mister Churchill’ see you right.’

‘Damn right he does,’ said Diana. ‘We win. That is, we won. Forty years ago.’

Mavis frowned into her tea. ‘You’re getting confused, Duck…’

‘You’re from… the year after Pearl Harbour, so that’s 1942, right?’

‘Forty two,’ agreed Mavis, ‘that’s right. Although you lot look like you’re from the Middle Ages…’

‘When we were taken from Earth is was 1983,’ Diana told her, calmly.

Mavis gazed at Diana, for a moment, opening and closing her mouth. ‘I think I’m going to need another cup of tea,’ she managed at last.

 

‘Hank and me have been talking,’ continued Diana. ‘See, part of the reason we were able to guess what time you were from is that you’re the second guys we’ve seen from the 1940s in a week.’

‘Maybe this is one of Herr Hitler’s tricks after all,’ added Mavis under her breath.

‘It’s a dirty trick all right,’ Diana replied, ‘but it’s not one of his. The first guy was brought here deliberately from the end of the War, to try to change the outcome, to make us lose, but he destroyed the crystal that was picking people out of time. We think that maybe when it was blown up… I don’t know… three years isn’t that long in the grand scheme of things… maybe it managed to pick you guys up somehow.’

‘Three years?’ Mavis echoed. ‘The war won’t be over for another three years?’

‘Um… yeah,’ admitted Diana. ‘But it’s all worth it!’

Mavis sighed and hugged her thick brown woollen skirt around her knees. ‘My brother’s out there. Got called up at Christmas. He was shipped out to Italy last month.’

‘Oh.’

‘He’ll be out there another three years?’

Diana laid a hand on Mavis’ shoulder. ‘I’m sorry, sweetie.’

‘Don’t be sorry,’ Mavis replied, ‘I mean, it’s his duty to go, and it’s our duty to bear it, I suppose…’

‘But you’re still worried about him,’ added Diana.

‘Worried,’ Mavis agreed, ‘and frustrated, and angry…’

‘…angry that he was made to go?’

‘Angry that I can’t be there with him!’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I can fight as well as Bert can, I always have. If I were a man…’ Mavis trailed off. ‘And where do I end up? Working in a munitions factory with the old men and the cripples.’

‘Well,’ attempted Diana, ‘an army will always need supplies…’

 ‘An army needs soldiers,’ Mavis replied bluntly. ‘Thanks for the tea.’

 

-x-

 

‘Well?’

Presto pulled a face as he pulled a handful of sticky brown gloop out of his hat.

Edie giggled. ‘What’s that?’

Presto sniffed it. ‘Chocolate. Um. It’s melted, but it is chocolate.’

‘Way to go, Presto,’ Eric sneered.

‘Way to go where?’ asked Trevor.

‘It’s an expression, Trev. Isn’t it?’ Edie looked expectantly to Eric for confirmation. Receiving none, she carried on anyway. ‘No gum, no chocolate, no Nylons… You lot would make useless GIs.’

‘Not with hairstyles like those,’ agreed Trevor, resting his hands behind his own Bryllcreamed Short Back And Sides.

Edie nudged Eric. ‘You’re the only one with anything like a proper haircut.’

‘See? What did I tell you guys?’ Eric addressed to the camp in general. ‘Long hair’s for sissies.’

At the campfire, Hank muttered something under his breath, making Sheila giggle.

Presto didn’t hear Hank’s comeback, but he laughed along anyway. The newcomers had put him in a particularly good mood. He was fast becoming friends with Trevor - he reminded Presto a lot of himself. And Edie… Edie was like a breath of fresh air. He wiped his chocolaty hands on the nearby grass and tried yet again to make the hat produce one of the many luxuries that the English girl had asked for. After all, he told himself, she deserved it. Being dragged into the Realm was bad enough, but he couldn’t conceive what it must have been like for her to spend her childhood under the shadow of World War. How she remained so resolutely cheerful was beyond him. And pretty… yeah, she was pretty, in an old fashioned way, he supposed. Her reddish hair had once been carefully lacquered into style but her day in the Realm had caused it to become attractively dishevelled. Her beige, calf length dress did nothing for her, admittedly, but he couldn’t help but notice the thin, dark brown lines that ran from her heels up the backs of her legs. They were drawn on with eye makeup – her left ‘seam’ had smudged just beneath her knee. He thought that was cute.

 

He heard her laugh a loud, boisterous laugh and looked up with a shy smile. Edie was leaning into a slightly nonplussed Eric as she laughed and slapping his arm with mirth. Presto looked back down again, biting his lip.

Then, he pondered, there was Mavis, who seemed to be polar opposite of her carefree sister. Presto had barely seen Mavis crack a smile since he’d met her, and for the last hour or so she had been sitting quietly, away from the rest of camp, wearing an expression that looked as though the weight of the world was borne on her shoulders. Presto recognised that Look. Hank got it sometimes, and Diana, since the Kosar Incident. As a matter of fact, it had only really been Hank and Diana that Mavis had uttered more than a couple of words in a row to all day. Diana was with her at that moment, in fact, talking seriously in a hushed tone, and Hank was watching her carefully. As, Presto noticed, was someone else.

 

‘What’s up with Little Miss Fancy Pants?’ asked Eric with a faint scowl in Mavis’ direction. ‘Too good for the rest of us?’

Edie giggled again at Eric’s insult, but the rest of the camp, including Trevor, treated the Cavalier to the same disapproving glare.

‘Ignore Eric,’ piped Sheila from her comfortable position between the fire and Hank, ‘he’s just jealous.’

‘Yeah,’ Bobby looked up from play fighting with the Unicorn foal and Griffin pup. ‘Jealous that Mavis’ stolen his Sulking Spot.’

Edie lay back on the grass. ‘She’s been in a strop ever since Bert got called up.’ She grinned. ‘All ready to cut her hair and jump on the next ship out with him, weren’t you, Mave?’

Mavis didn’t answer, but went back to her sotto voce mutterings with the Acrobat.

‘I says to her, our Boys need us at home, and besides, she could join the Wrens or the Land Girls, but no. I mean, after all…’ Edie turned her head to Trevor. ‘You’re in the same boat, Trev, and you don’t complain, do you?’

Trevor shrugged. ‘Complaining isn’t going to straighten me leg out now, is it? And it in’t going to win the war, neither.’

‘Neither’s sitting around here,’ added Mavis, loudly.

‘Oh,’ crowed Eric sarcastically, ‘so you’ve finally decided to join in the conversation, huh?’

‘Eric,’ warned Hank.

‘Listen, Chummy,’ Mavis addressed Eric, ‘you might have two years to spend in this silly place lighting fires and having Pow-Wows and mucking around with storybook creatures, but we don’t. We’ve got a war to win. A real war.’

‘Hey!’ Eric got to his feet, wrenching his cape out of Edie’s playful fingers. ‘We’re fightin’ a pretty major war ourselves here, you know. Just the six of us, against a… a…’

‘…A bloke in frock,’ finished Mavis. ‘Diana told me. Think your Venger fella’s a nightmare…?’

‘Yes,’ chorused several of the American youngsters.

‘Try hearing Luftwaffe planes overhead in the middle of the night,’ replied Mavis. ‘Try going to sleep not knowing if you’ll be woken up by an air raid siren, or maybe not even woken up at all. Try getting through the day without worrying yourself sick about your brother and your school friends who’ve been sent off to fight, or your neighbours and… and all those people whole don’t make it through the air raids…’

‘We have friends here that we worry about too,’ replied Sheila, ‘people who stood up to Venger to help us…’

‘Yeah,’ Bobby added, ‘and a Messerschmitt is nothin’ on a giant, flying horse.’

‘Ever seen a Messerschmitt?’ Trevor asked, quietly.

‘Ever seen a giant, flying horse?’ Bobby replied.

‘But it doesn’t matter!’ Mavis exclaimed. ‘None of this matters! It’s silly. It’s make believe…’

‘Life is always only as real as you wish to make it, Mavis Swift.’

 

Mavis blinked. The soft-spoken voice of an elderly man had seemed to have sprung from nowhere. On the other side of the campfire, the argumentative Cavalier had started to slowly, rhythmically, beat his forehead against his clenched knuckles in silent exasperation.

‘Who said that?’

A wizened old man, no more than three feet tall stepped out of a flickering shadow cast by the fire.

‘Greetings,’ he beamed.

Mavis cocked an eyebrow at the old man, but Diana addressed him before Mavis could draw breath.

‘Dungeon Master!’

‘Indeed.’ The old man clasped his hands behind his back and directed a warm smile at Mavis as the Griffin pup began to cautiously sniff around his feet.

‘This is your Dungeon Master?’ Edie exclaimed. ‘This is the fella you said guides you around this place?’

‘I thought you lot said he was supposed to be really powerful,’ added Trevor, giving the scarlet clad midget the once-over.

‘He’s helping us to find a way home,’ Bobby told them, confidently.

‘Says him,’ muttered Eric.

Trevor shrugged. ‘I’d have ‘spected him to be taller.’

‘Whatever you do,’ added Eric, conspiratorially, ‘don’t let him give you a weapon. You’ll wind up as stuck here as we are.’

 

‘Well.’ Mavis got to her feet. The little man never once shifted his eyes from hers, never blinked, never dropped his smile.  ‘If you really are powerful enough to send people home, whatever your name is, you’re just going to have to send us home. Right now.’ She paused. Still the old man didn’t budge. ‘Beeston, near Nottingham,’ she helped. ‘England. Earth. 1942.’ Still there was no response. She clenched her fists, fighting off a wave of fury. ‘We haven’t got time for fannying about round here! We don’t have two years to waste…’

‘I understand,’ replied the Dungeon Master, calmly.

‘Do you really?’

‘All of my Young Adventurers understand what it is to be at war with a force of evil…’

Mavis shook her head. ‘That’s different.’

‘Is it?’ He finally acknowledged the inquisitive Griffin with a ruffle of the downy feathers on its forehead. ‘Then why are you here, Mavis Swift?’

‘Why don’t you tell us?’ asked Trevor quietly, narrowing his eyes a little. ‘You know more than you let on, don’t you?’

The Dungeon Master turned his head. ‘How very perceptive you are, Trevor Appleby. And you, Edith Swift, you have such a talent for lifting spirits.’

‘What are you talking about?’ demanded Mavis. ‘Send us back, toot sweet!’

The Dungeon Master turned calmly to Hank. ‘You have told her of the Crystal of Chronos, Ranger?’

Hank nodded.

‘Then, you understand,’ the Dungeon Master told Mavis, ‘that this was Venger’s doing. Alas, there is nothing I can do to undo his work. I would there was.’

‘Then tell me where he is,’ Mavis replied, ‘so I can make him send us back.’

‘Oh, you don’t want to do…’ Presto began, but fell silent under the weight of Mavis’ glare.

‘He is sure to find you, soon enough,’ the Dungeon Master added, solemnly. ‘I trust that you will make the right decision when he does.’

Mavis shared a confused glance with Diana.

‘What the Hell is that supposed to mean…?’ Mavis looked back at where the old man had just been standing, and blinked. ‘Where’ve you gone?’

‘He’s just gone,’ shrugged Bobby. ‘It’s kinda his Way.’

‘Couldn’t he have been a little bit more specific before he vanished?’ asked Edie.

‘You’ll get used to it,’ Presto smiled.

Edie folded her arms. ‘I blinking well hope not.’

 

-x-

 

Mavis fell asleep surprisingly easily on the grass, next to the warm embers of the fire, although her dreams were of bombs and bullets, as they so often were. Long before dawn, she found herself being shaken awake. She opened her eyes and focussed on Trevor, leaning over her in the dim firelight, his face full of fear.

‘What is it, Trev?’

‘We’ve got to go,’ Trevor hissed in a panic, ‘summat’s coming, Mave. Summat awful…’

Mavis groaned, rubbing her face. ‘It’s just one of your dreams again, Trev Duck. Go back to sleep.’

‘It’s not a dream, Mavis.’ Trevor grabbed the lapels of her blouse. ‘I saw it, clear as day! We’ve got to go!’

The other side of the fire, Hank propped himself up on his elbows, squinting at them through his fringe. ‘What’s goin’ on, guys? There a problem?’

‘Something bad’s going to…’ began Trevor before he was cut off by Mavis.

‘It’s all right. Trevor just gets these dreams sometimes, and…’

‘Dreams?’ Hank blinked, and sprang to his feet, suddenly. ‘Guys! Wake up! Trouble!’

‘What?’ Mavis frowned as the other campers were swiftly roused. ‘It’s only a nightmare…’

‘Oh Jeez,’ moaned Eric as Edie pulled him to his feet, ‘not another psychic dreamer…’

‘We kinda take that sort of thing seriously these days,’ Diana added.

‘Take what sort of thing seriously?’ Edie giggled, shoving Trevor slightly. ‘Trev in’t psychic.’

‘I hope he’s not,’ Hank replied. ‘I think we should move on anyway, just in case.’

Mavis hugged herself against the cold night air. ‘But it’s the middle of the night…’

Eric sneered a little as he passed her, rubbing his own arms for warmth as he did. ‘Get used to it, Kid.’

 

-x-

 

Mavis was a brisk walker, especially in the cold, and she quickly fell into the front clump of the gaggle, alongside Hank and Diana. Trevor watched as Edie made a group of her own in the middle, laughing and joking with the Thief and the Barbarian as the two juvenile mythological creatures scampered about their ankles. Although the younger Swift sister made several attempts to get Eric to walk with them, the Cavalier continually lagged behind her, seeming to prefer walking alone, grumbling to himself and occasionally emitting loud, over the top yawns as he did. Slow as Eric was, he was still faster than Trevor. Trevor was limping as fast as he could, but still had a devil of a time keeping pace with the others. Even though it was still freezing, he was beginning to sweat with the effort. Still, he told himself, he only had himself to blame for their flight. He was starting to utterly resent his earlier nightmare.

 

‘Hey, Trevor.’

Trevor turned his head to see the young Magician at his shoulder.

‘Go on ahead,’ panted Trevor. ‘Don’t mind me, I’ll just slow you down.’

Presto shrugged. ‘Tell the truth, I’m not a fast walker myself.’ He pulled at his heavy, ankle length robe a little. ‘This dumb thing doesn’t help much.’

Trevor snorted a brief laugh. ‘I don’t envy you.’

‘You get used to it,’ replied Presto. His friendly smile disappeared under a cloud of concern. ‘So… is it, uh… was it from Birth, or… did it develop, or…’

‘Polio,’ Trevor told him. ‘When I was 10. Doctors say I’m lucky to be walking at all…’

‘Oh, no… not your leg.’ Presto flushed a little. ‘I meant, the premonition dreams. Have you always got them?’

Trevor shook his head. ‘I’m not psychic or nowt. I just get these nightmares, and sometimes they’re so real, and…’ he trailed off. ‘Mave reckons it’s just coincidence. When there’s bombs falling all the time I’m bound to dream of one going off the night before it does.’

‘Sure.’

‘Thing is, though,’ added Trevor, ‘thing I never told the girls… I saw the refinery that bomb was going to hit. I saw the people it was going to kill. I saw their faces.’ He sighed. ‘I saw Mr Swift.’

‘Their Dad?’ breathed Presto.

Trevor nodded, grimly. ‘Di’n’t think owt of it, not ‘til the air raid siren went off.’

‘He died?’

‘Lots of men have died, Presto.’

‘Poor girls,’ Presto sighed. ‘And you had a dream like that tonight, did you?’

‘Been getting it for a while now,’ Trevor replied, ‘only this time it was so real, so close.’

‘What did you see?’

Trevor narrowed his eyes, recalling the images. ‘A cloud. Summat fast, blurred. Evil as Hell. You can’t get your fingers on it, can’t even focus on it, bit it rips everything apart that it comes anywhere near. And in the middle of it, there’s this man. He dun’t control the cloud, it’s like… he breathes it. It’s his blood. And at first I thought it was Herr Hitler because there’s an army behind him, but it in’t. It’s… I think it’s the Devil. Has to be. And he hates me. Hates us.’ Trevor blinked at Presto, his eyes slowly focussing on the Magician as the realisation dawned. ‘He hates you, Presto. Each and every one of you lot. Personally. Jesus, he’s so angry…’

Presto just nodded. ‘I thought it would be him.’

‘What do you…’ Trevor frowned. ‘You know who it is I saw?’

‘Let me guess,’ added Presto, ‘eight feet tall, black robe, helmet with only one horn, wings…’

‘Ah, no. The one horn got me worried there, but he didn’t have wings.’

‘He does, you know…’ began Presto.

 

A loud explosion overhead cut him off from saying any more. Trevor fell to a braced position on the ground, tugging Presto down with him. A cacophony of voices rose up around them as another explosion went off noisily. As Trevor looked up he could see Eric pulling Edie behind his Shield. Sheila stood warily behind her brother, her hands nervously about her Cloak hood, as Bobby defensively wielded his Club. Hank and Diana were sprinting back towards them, their own weapons raised. Mavis ran with them, only as she passed Eric he lashed out his free arm, grabbing her collar and yanking her towards him, under the protection of his Shield.

On all fours next to him, Presto was muttering into his Hat.

‘Alakazak,’ he murmured, ‘and Alak-another. We’re under attack, so give us some cover.’

The Magician winced in anticipation at whatever was about to come out of his Hat.

Which was absolutely nothing.

‘Dammit,’ tutted Presto, giving the weapon a filthy look. ‘Stupid thing.’

There was yet another explosion. By now, everybody’s head but Trevor’s was craned skywards. He knelt up, looking up into the dark sky. He couldn’t see anything. Just blackness.

‘What’s up there?’ Edie asked. ‘What keeps doing that?’

‘It’s OK,’ chirped Bobby with a forced bravado, ‘he’s just showing off. Probably trying to impress you guys.’

‘Who is showing off?’ Mavis snapped, wrenching her blouse free of Eric’s grasp.

Hank stopped in front of Trevor, drawing his Bow and pointing it upwards. ‘Show yourself, Venger.’

‘Venger?’ Mavis gasped. ‘You mean, we’ve found him?’

‘He found us,’ corrected Eric, trying a second time to drag her behind his Shield.

There was a pause, then a deep, hollow, spiteful laugh. There was barely the whisper of a wing beat as a part of the black sky found substance and form. The dark figure slowly descended low enough for those on the ground to be able to see it

‘That’s him,’ breathed Trevor.

‘Told you he’s got wings,’ Presto added.

 

There was a scream from the other huddle. Edie was as white as a sheet, clutching on to Eric’s shoulder. The Cavalier barely noticed, such was his difficulty in keeping Mavis from darting away from the Shield.

Still, Venger laughed.

‘Is that all?’ he smirked. ‘When I became aware that others from that war on your world had used the Crystal of Chronos to travel here, I presumed that they might be great warriors, or tacticians, or scientists – people who could be of use to me. But this is all there is?’ He gave the three newcomers a cold, calculating once-over. ‘A woman, a child and a cripple?’

Diana took a bold step forward. ‘Leave them alone, Venger.’

‘Yeah,’ piped Bobby from behind his Club, ‘shut up!’

‘And not even armed,’ continued Venger, unabashed. ‘Pathetic.’

Hank tensed his shooting arm around the bolt he had drawn. ‘Leave them out of this. It’s us you’re fighting, not them.’

‘Very true, Ranger,’ Venger added. ‘I see no reason why my efforts to find you should go to waste.’ He arched an eyebrow. ‘Your weapons, if you please.’

 

Presto scoffed, so quietly that only Trevor could hear. ‘Saying “Please”? That’s a new tactic.’

‘He’s stalling,’ Trevor whispered. ‘He’s waiting for something.’

‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ replied Presto.

‘I need to talk to the others.’ Trevor looked up nervously at the continuing stand–off between Venger and Hank. ‘We could really do with a diversion right now.’

Presto slowly brought the tips of his fingers to the brim of his Hat. ‘I’ll do what I can, but this dumb thing wasn’t working a minute ago…’

Before he could say any more, there was a pop and a dull belch within the Hat, and a thick cloud of black smoke swiftly billowed out from it, surrounding them.

‘What the…?’ began Trevor as the smoke settled in a hefty layer above the kids’ heads, separating them from the still airborne Venger.

‘I think it’s the cover I asked for,’ replied Presto, beckoning the others over. ‘It must be running a little slow tonight.’

The others assembled quickly around Trevor.

‘Edie doesn’t look well,’ Sheila noted, quietly.

Edie was still trembling. ‘Did you see it? Did… did you see it?’

‘We all saw it, Edie,’ growled Mavis.

Presto remembered something Trevor had said before. He turned to the young Englishman. ‘You said you saw an army behind Venger in your dream.’

Hank frowned. ‘Stands to reason he’d bring Orcs. He thought you guys were gonna be a crack squad, after all.’

‘So what?’ Bobby chimed, deliberately loud enough to be heard above the magical smoke. ‘We can take ‘em!’

There was another mocking laugh from high above the smoke cover.

‘No,’ Hank hissed. ‘Not an army of Orcs. Not with these guys to protect as well.’ He licked his lips. ‘I saw a cave not far ahead. If Sheila can Cloak herself and create a fake trail into the undergrowth…’

He paused to look for Sheila’s nod of acknowledgement, but the Thief was already swiftly vanishing.

‘Then’ he continued, ‘I say we make a run for it before this cover disperses.’ He got to his feet and the others began to follow his lead. ‘Diana, you help Trevor get there, Eric, you look after the girls…’

Mavis was the last to stand. ‘No.’

Hank shook his head, looking up at the thinning smoke. ‘We don’t have time for this right now, Mavis. I’m sorry.’

 

He turned towards the direction of the cave, and Eric grabbed Mavis’ shoulder to pull her along. Mavis’ arm was as fast as the Cavalier’s, and she swung it around hard to slap him in the face.

‘Ow!’ Eric took a step away from her. ‘What the Hell…?’

‘Don’t you touch me,’ she cried.

‘Come on, Mave!’ Her sister fretted.

‘Is this how your beloved Yanks fight their wars, Edie?’ Mavis folded her arms, glaring at the others. ‘By running away and hiding?’

‘Are you running away, Ranger?’ added Venger’s unseen, amused voice above them.

‘You have to know when to run and when to stay and fight if you’re gonna stay alive,’ Diana told her. ‘Please, Mavis.’

Mavis didn’t budge. ‘If this Venger is the key to get out of here, then I’m staying.’

‘Be sensible, Mave,’ pleaded Edie.

‘I have been cowering in caves, waiting for the enemy to strike for three long years, Edith Swift. So have you. So’s Trevor. It stops here.’

Venger’s laughter was suddenly louder, closer. As one, the group looked up. The smoke was clearing as fast as it had settled. Venger was now perfectly visible. As were the 60-odd Orcs circling them with torches.

Venger cocked his head a little at Hank. ‘I thought that you were leaving.’

Slowly, the Dungeon Master’s pupils raised their weapons.

‘Change of plan,’ replied Hank.

‘It is probably for the best,’ Venger grinned. ‘I understand that you have… mislaid something.’ He nodded at a particularly large Orc, who pushed past a couple of grunts to the forefront. He held a familiar, if Cloakless, redhead by the scruff of her neck.

‘Sorry, Hank,’ mumbled Sheila.

‘Yes,’ mocked Venger, ‘ever so sorry. But if you do not wish for the Thief to pay the ultimate price…’

Venger paused, expectantly. Five more large Orcs stepped out of the circle towards the kids. Tearful with rage, Bobby raised his Club at Venger threateningly, but the glint of a dagger in the hand of the Orc holding his sister captive was enough to subdue even him. One by one, all of the Young Adventurers dropped their weapons to the ground. The Orcs quickly gathered them up, and more stepped in to restrain the Americans. Venger nodded.

‘Take them.’

 

The Orcs quickly manacled the protesting Young Ones and began to manhandle them away from Mavis, Edie and Trevor. Venger too turned from the three Britons, as though they were not there.

‘Hey!’ Mavis cried. ‘Hey!’

She ran forward and tried to grapple with the Orc holding Diana, only to be half-heartedly batted away.

‘Hey, you! Venger!’

Venger gave her a haughty half glance over his shoulder.

‘You can’t do this!’

‘I just have.’

Mavis tried to attack the Orc again, with the same results. She fell backwards, furiously.

‘You’re going to regret ever bringing us here!’

‘I did not bring you here,’ Venger replied with a bored tone. ‘You came because you wanted to.’

‘Well, why the Hell would we do that?’ Shouted Mavis after him. ‘We’ve got bigger fish to fry than you, Mister Venger! You’d better send us back…’ She glowered at the other two. ‘Don’t just stand there like plums, you two. They’re getting away. Do summat!’

‘What can we do?’ Edie wailed. ‘There’s hundreds of them, Mave!’

Mavis didn’t get up from where she had fallen. All of a sudden she felt horribly heavy. Tears stung her eyes. She pushed her head down into her hands and watched the others being led away from between her laced fingers. The troop of Orcs turned at the cave’s entrance and slowly began to file inside, dragging their captors out of sight. Mavis sniffed.

‘I don’t want to be here,’ she whispered to herself. ‘Why would I bring myself here, to be even more bloody useless than I am back home?’

‘Oi.’ Edie sank down next to her. ‘You’re not useless.’

There was a soft yelp by Mavis’ ankle, like that of a lion cub. Mavis looked over in its direction. The little Unicorn was trailing after the victorious Orcs, bleating miserably, but the young Griffin still gazed up at Mavis expectantly.

‘Must have decided he prefers his chances with us than those creatures,’ Trevor muttered.

‘Decisions,’ snorted Mavis. She unconsciously scratched the velvet soft down on the Griffin’s head. ‘Isn’t that what that Dungeon master bloke said to me? That he hoped I’d make the right decision when the time came. Fight or run – isn’t that always what it comes down to? Well, I cacked that one up right and proper, didn’t I?’

‘It was already too late,’ Trevor replied, ‘what were we supposed to do? We didn’t even have any weapons…’

‘…and we don’t want them, neither,’ added Edie. ‘Remember what Eric said about them? We’d never get out!’

Mavis frowned to herself, running her fingers through the silky transition of neck feather to back fur on the Griffin as he trod a surprisingly heavy paw on her thigh. She looked up again. The last of the Orcs were filing into the entrance of the cave, leaving them alone in the valley.

 

‘Why would we bring ourselves here?’ She repeated. ‘We wanted to make a difference, didn’t we? To get out of poxy arse Beeston. To fight.’

‘So what?’

‘So, what if this is it?’ Mavis asked the others. ‘What if this is our chance to fight the good fight? What if this is the decision? To run back home or to stay and fight?’

‘What indeed, Mavis Swift?’

With a start, Mavis turned to see the Dungeon Master standing behind her.

‘Do you always do that?’

The Dungeon Master managed a small, polite smile.

‘Time is running short, Mavis Swift. You must be true to your name in your decision.’

Mavis drew a breath, but hesitated. ‘If my sister and my friend get hurt…’

‘I will protect you,’ assured the Dungeon Master, ‘and I will guide you on your path home. How long that path might be, though, I cannot say.’

Mavis got to her feet, turning to the others. ‘What do you think?’

‘You want us to stay here,’ murmured Trevor, ‘to become like… like them.’

‘Yep,’ Mavis replied, softly.

‘Heroes,’ added Trevor with a shy smile. ‘Like on the wireless.’

Edie brushed the grass from her skirt and sniffed. ‘Sounds like a giggle.’

The Dungeon Master beamed. ‘Then make haste…’ he pointed at Mavis. ‘Crusader,’ he announced, before turning his finger to Trevor. ‘Seer,’ he continued and finished with Edie. ‘…and Bard.’

 

Mavis took a step towards the cave’s entrance, then stopped. She felt very different… more substantial, somehow – heavier. She looked down at herself. Her woollen skirt and cotton blouse had turned into silver chain mail covering her head, torso, arms and legs, good leather boots and a white tabard. There were golden Gauntlets on her hands – she knew immediately that they were her weapon, although how they worked she had no idea.

‘We’ll know how to use them when we have to,’ Trevor told her urgently. ‘Come on! We have to hurry!’

Trevor was different too, Mavis realised. He was now in a long, purple robe. He was moving faster than he used to. Mavis put this down to the five foot long Staff he had in his hand. It was a proper Wizard’s Staff as well, with a crystal ball fixed to the top of it and everything. Unfortunately, the only use Trevor had managed to get out of it was as a handy crutch. Mavis was so struck by this as she followed him that she failed to realise that she’d never actually voiced her concern at not knowing how to work her weapons out loud.

‘A feather?!?’ Mavis’ sister’s indignant tone caused her to turn her head again. Edie, resplendent in red and yellow checks, was glaring at her own weapon – a large, white Quill. ‘What the bloody Hell am I supposed to do with a bleeding feather?’

 

-x-

 

‘Where do you suppose they’re taking us?’ asked Presto for the eighth time since they’d been captured.

‘I don’t know,’ replied Hank – again, for the eighth time.

‘Looks like these caves are some sorta secret tunnel,’ Diana whispered.

‘Yeah,’ Hank replied. ‘This is where they’ll have come from in the first place. If we’d tried to run and hide, we’d have collided right into them anyway.’

‘Doesn’t matter what you say,’ moped Sheila, ‘I still blame myself.’

‘It’s not your fault, Sheila.’

Everybody blinked at Eric’s uncharacteristically thoughtful remark.

‘Nah,’ added Eric, ‘this is all that stupid Mavis’ fault.’

Diana shared a brief Look with Hank.

‘Giving us away like that,’ continued Eric. ‘And where is she now, huh? They’ve hung us out to dry! Don’t those Limeys realise we saved their ass in the War?’

‘That is ridiculous on so many levels,’ hissed Diana. ‘First of all, where she’s from nobody’s saved anyone’s asses yet. And besides, why should somebody who’s worked every day for three years to help win that war be grateful to somebody who wasn’t born ‘til 20 years after it ended? It’s like saying I should be nice to you just because one of your Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandfathers helped abolish the slave trade…’

‘Which you still haven’t thanked me for…’ chipped in Eric.

Behind them, there was a strange, scuttling noise. Hank frowned and turned.

‘What was that?’

One of the Orcs frogmarching them gave the Ranger a hard push.

‘Nothin’,’ it grunted. ‘Get goin’.’

There was the noise again.

‘Seriously,’ Hank insisted, ‘there’s something back there. Someone aughtta…’

The Orc narrowed his eyes. ‘You no fool us so easy. Get in line, or me…’

There was a whoosh in the cave behind them, followed by several screeches and the flap of wings. Six large, fanged flying creatures barrelled into the rear guard of Orcs and kept on flying. The kids flinched, their chained forearms over their faces and necks as the creatures flitted past them and into the next wave of Orcs.

 

‘Ew,’ breathed Bobby with some relief as they passed.

Diana squinted with a frown as she watched the largest of the creatures attacking a panicking Orc. ‘Is it me,’ she asked, ‘or are those things really, really badly drawn?’

‘Badly drawn…?’ Presto echoed.

‘Yeah,’ said Hank as he cocked his head at the dark, bat-like beast. ‘They’re kinda… sketchy.’

Ahead, Venger stopped on his mount and turned with a snarl. ‘What is this?’

A quick burst of magical energy from his fingertips downed two of the attacking creatures.

‘We do not have time for this,’ Venger ordered. ‘We must get to the underground fortress so that I may absorb the…’

 

The rear group of Orcs were suddenly thrown through the air, as if hit by a swinging demolition ball. Bereft the protection of Eric’s Shield or Bobby’s Club, the captive kids had to duck beneath their arms again to shelter themselves from the unexpected shower of flailing, squealing Orc. Unfortunately for them, this meant that not one of them got the satisfaction of seeing the expression of confusion and indignation that, ever so briefly, flitted across Venger’s face as he watched the scene. Before anybody could notice his momentary lapse in concentration, he set his face once more into his usual snarl.

‘Show yourself,’ he growled, his fingers itching with dark magic.

The Orcs surrounding Venger’s prisoners were pushed aside by an invisible force. They were slammed hard against the walls of the cavern – many of them passing out as their heads hit the stone. Venger squinted. In the blackness of the cave beyond his captives, something moved. There was a glint, then another, and… and a Hum. He recognised that Hum. He had been chasing it all these years, after all, and he’d thought that he had finally caught it. But, apparently, there was more of it yet. He controlled himself, didn’t allow the pang of frustration to so much as register on the surface – That accursed Old Man had found himself more pupils! There was the sound of leather on rock, the click of a wooden staff and the faint jingle of chain mail as three youths stepped into the Orcs’ torchlight.

 

‘Hey!’ Presto’s face split into a wide, lopsided grin. ‘You came back!’

Trevor and Edie managed small glances of acknowledgement in the Americans’ direction, while Mavis’ gaze stayed fixed ahead on Venger.

‘What happened to your clothes?’ added Diana.

‘They have been adopted by the Dungeon Master,’ replied Venger with a sneer, ‘much as you were, Acrobat.’

Eric tutted. ‘What did I say? Didn’t I warn you guys?’

‘We made our choice,’ murmured Mavis.

‘So, now you have magical weapons,’ mocked Venger. ‘I shall merely take them from you as I have taken the weapons of your friends. You are still the pathetic children that you have always been.’

Mavis cocked her head, a dangerous look in her eye. ‘Say that again.’

Venger met her glare, then dismounted and began to slowly walk towards her.

‘Um, Mavis?’ hissed Edie by her side, ‘are you sure you want to get into a punch-up with this…’

Venger stopped a few feet in front of Mavis, staring at her down his nose from his lofty height.

‘You are pathetic,’ he reiterated. ‘How do you expect to combat me? You may as well give me your new weapons now and spare yourself the agony of defeat. You cannot fight. You come from a time when your country was in dire need of soldiers, and yet they rejected you. Because your friend is a freakish cripple, and your sister is a silly, shrieking girl, and you…? You are a weak, slow, stupid, useless woman.’

Mavis cocked her head up towards Venger. ‘Well, that’s as may be,’ she replied, softly. ‘But at least I can throw a punch like a man.’

Venger raised his eyebrows. ‘What is that supposed to…’

Mavis drew her fist back and, lightning fast, lashed it out in Venger’s direction. She was still too far away to make any contact with him, but it was as she was throwing the punch that a glow flashed across her Gauntlets. A huge, fizzing ball of energy sprang up around her moving fist and smashed into Venger, sending him tumbling back. The remaining Orcs in the vanguard all threw themselves at the trio at once. Edie dropped to the floor, grabbing her Quill, while Mavis launched a few choice upper cuts into the air, throwing several Orcs back. Trevor stood quietly amongst the melee, clutching his Staff with both hands, his eyes closed.

 

‘If anybody would like to give me a hand…?’ Mavis prompted.

‘Got it!’ Announced Edie. She reached down to the Tommy Gun she had sketched on the floor with her Quill. As her fingers touched it found a third dimension and came off the ground in her hands.

‘So it was you who made those creatures,’ Presto exclaimed.

‘They were s’posed to be bats,’ Edie explained as she fired a short round of bullets at the feet of a group of Orcs, causing them to scatter and flee in panic, completely drowning out her voice. ‘I’m not that good at drawing.’

‘What?’ asked Presto, over the gunfire himself.

‘What?’ yelled Edie.

 

Mavis heard Sheila cry Trevor’s name fretfully, and turned. The new Seer was still standing, grasping his Staff, eyes closed, oblivious to the large Orc that was making a beeline for him with a raised Mace. Mavis faltered for a moment – she was too far away to reach him in time, and her hands were full with keeping more Orc soldiers back. She, too, shouted Trevor’s name, but had no response. The Mace wielding Orc lunged forward. At that very moment, Trevor snapped his eyes open and swung the Staff around into the Orc’s face. Mavis expected Trevor to hit the Orc with the Staff – she imagined it could cause a fair amount of damage as a blunt weapon – but instead the Seer stopped short of the Orc’s snout, holding the large, clear sphere atop the staff right in front of its eyes. The Orc froze, its gaze helplessly pulled into the crystal ball, a growing expression of absolute terror on its face. After a moment it fell backwards, howling, and crawled away. Trevor closed his eyes again, peacefully.

‘Trev…?’ Mavis ventured.

At the sound of her voice, Trevor gasped and span around to face her.

‘Mavis, watch out!’

 

Before Mavis could react, her hands were grabbed and pulled behind her. She craned her head up and saw Venger snarling down at her.

‘Bollocks.’

‘A spirited attempt,’ Venger told her, ‘and one which you will regret for the rest of your short life.’

‘I don’t think so, Mister Venger.’

Venger shifted his glance to the crippled young man who was hobbling towards him.

‘Tell me,’ continued the Seer, ‘what does someone like you see when he closes his eyes?’

‘What is this impertinence?’

‘Do you dream, Mister Venger?’ With effort, Trevor hoisted the staff up so that the crystal was level with Venger’s eyes. ‘Ever get nightmares?’

Mavis felt the hands gripping her wrists slowly slacken. She looked up again at Venger’s face. His eyes were locked into Trevor’s crystal, his lips pressed tightly together, as though trying to mentally fight something away. His eyes widened, he took a sharp intake of breath and reeled backwards – only a little.

 

As it turned out, it was just far enough. Instead of the cave floor, Venger’s foot hit nothing. A whole lot of nothing. He unfurled his wings, but it was too late. He lost his balance and fell back into the hole behind him. Edie stood up, and wiped out the large hole she had just drawn on the ground out with her foot. The stone floor of the cave reasserted itself once more.

‘Where does that hole lead to, exactly?’ asked Mavis.

‘Not sure,’ Edie shrugged.

She put her hand on her sister’s shoulder and surveyed the scene. The Americans were still standing where they had been when they’d found them, apart from Sheila, who was suddenly absent. Almost all of the Orcs had now fled. There were around a dozen Orcs still unconscious from Mavis’ first attack. Only one Orc stood firm – the one that had been charged with carrying the Americans’ weapons. His eyes darted from youngster to youngster nervously as he clutched the weapons tight.

‘Why don’t you give us those weapons, eh?’ Edie asked him, brightly.

The Orc just shook its head. ‘Me got orders. Me keep. Me take puny children on. You no trick me…’

It was tapped lightly on the shoulder, and automatically turned. From her hiding place behind it, Sheila used the momentary distraction she had caused to snatch the pile of weapons from its hands.

‘Hey!’ The Orc tried to grab back the weapons, but a quick jab to the temple from Mavis’ Gauntlet sent him spinning to the ground.

‘Still got it,’ breathed Sheila to herself, struggling to carry the weapons over to the others with shackled wrists.

‘You know,’ Mavis told her, ‘we could’ve got those for you, easily.’

Sheila shot her a quick Look. ‘Are any of you guys Thieves?’

‘No.’

‘Well then.’

Edie grinned, flourishing her Quill and beginning to sketch out a hacksaw on the wall. ‘Let me get them handcuffs for you, anyways.’

 

-x-

 

The suns were starting to rise by the time they made their way out of the cavern. Mavis walked alone as Hank and Diana scouted ahead and the others trailed. After a while, they found a place to stop and light a new fire, and the Ranger and Acrobat returned with breakfast. Mavis was surprised to find Eric sitting next to her as they ate.

‘So, Fists Of Fury. You came back.’

‘What choice did we have?’

‘Ya could have left us high and dry, found a way home.’ Eric bit into a plum. ‘That’s what any sensible person would have done.’

‘Not you lot, though.’

‘Aaah, we’re a bunch of idiots,’ shrugged Eric. ‘You don’t want to go round using us as role models.’

‘Believe me,’ Mavis took a swig of tea, ‘I don’t.’

‘Just fashion icons, huh?’ Eric jingled his sleeve against hers. ‘See? We can be Chain Mail Buddies.’

‘I didn’t chose this costume.’

‘Neither did I. Or did we?’ Eric frowned. ‘Sometimes I do wonder about that.’

They fell into a silence. They both drank some tea.

 

Presto frowned as he fished into his Hat for the umpteenth time. He pulled out a handful of something smooth, silky and tan coloured. He unfolded the fabric and sighed.

‘Another handkerchief?’ asked Trevor.

Presto presented the silk handkerchief to him. ‘How hard d’you suppose it would be for the dumb thing to give me stockings like I asked?’

‘The things you want never do come easy for you, do they, Presto?’ Trevor smiled.

Presto shot him a sideways glance. ‘You’re reading my mind again.’

‘For the last time,’ laughed Trevor, ‘I can’t read minds.’

Presto nodded. ‘Your Staff, though… it seems pretty powerful, huh?’

‘All of our weapons are powerful,’ Trevor replied. He gazed at Presto’s expression. ‘You’re worried about the Staff, aren’t you?’

Presto cast his eyes down. ‘They were all so afraid of it – even Venger. And I couldn’t even see what it did to them. What exactly… what does it do?’

‘It’s not as bad as you think it is.’ Trevor smiled distantly, running his hand over the crystal ball at the end of his Staff. ‘It just shows people things.’

‘Things…?’

‘Nightmares,’ Trevor clarified. ‘Their own, personal nightmares. Like the kind I get. Dreams feel like reality, a couple of seconds can feel like hour after hour after hour.’

‘Wow.’ Presto pondered this. ‘That sounds pretty… mean.’

‘I can probably get it to do other stuff,’ shrugged Trevor, ‘but I was a little bit pushed for time, and that seemed pretty fitting. Venger’s been giving me nightmares for long enough, it was time I gave him one in return. And, to be fair, he did start it.’

 

‘I guess,’ sighed Presto. He reached into his Hat yet again, and beamed at what he had been able to produce. He got up and hurried over to the Bard, who was happily throwing pinecones for the Griffin to catch in his beak, and laughing whenever the Unicorn tried to intercept them.

‘Hey, Edie!’ He held aloft his Hat’s latest offering. ‘Look!’

Edie combed her fingers through her fringe. ‘Well! My first pair of Silk Stockings from a genuine Yank. Although, this costume does come with the tights included…’ she gestured down at the yellow tights beneath her pied shorts and tunic. ‘So I don’t really need them like I used to.’

Presto’s face fell. ‘Oh.’

‘Don’t get me wrong, I’ll take them off yer hands.’ She grabbed the stockings off Presto, admiring them. ‘Ruby Pritchard down t’street’ll be green with envy over them once I get home… if I get home.’ She frowned, looking for a place to keep the gift. ‘Wish this thing had pockets.’

The Griffin bounded up to Edie, proudly presenting the pinecone she had thrown.

‘Chuck seems to really like you,’ called Bobby from his place by the fire as he ate.

Edie ruffled the Griffin’s feathers. ‘Well, that’s probably because I don’t call him Chuck, for starters.’

‘It’s his name!’ Bobby protested.

Edie shook her head. ‘Does he really look much like a “Chuck” to you?’

‘So, what do you call him?’ asked Presto.

‘Clive,’ replied the Bard, matter-of-factly.

Bobby snorted a laugh of derision. ‘Clive? That’s a stupid name.’

‘So’s Chuck. And, if we’re being honest, so’s Uni, frankly.’

Bobby gasped, and clasped his hands over Uni’s ears, to the Unicorn’s confusion and annoyance. ‘You take that back!’

 

Mavis leaned over in Edie’s direction at the sound of the raised voices.

‘What’s my daft little sister up to this time?’

‘Gettin’ on that twerp Barbarian’s nerves,’ replied Eric with a wicked grin. He rose to his feet. ‘This I gotta see. Coming?’

Mavis took another sip of tea, shaking her head. ‘Leave me out of it.’

In a flash, Eric’s friendly smile turned to a scornful arched eyebrow. ‘Suit yourself, Miss Fancy Pants.’

Mavis blinked at the slight as he stalked off. Within seconds, Diana had taken his spot next to Mavis.

‘Hey.’

Mavis nodded in Eric’s direction. ‘Is he always like that?’

‘Around people he wants to like him,’ Diana replied with a small smile, ‘sure.’

‘Oh.’

There was a pause.

‘So,’ ventured Diana, ‘what happens now?’

Mavis shrugged. ‘I’m not very good at working out what’s going to happen next. I usually leave that sort of stuff to Trev.’

‘You know,’ Diana continued, tentatively, ‘you’re welcome to travel with us, if you want…’

Mavis shook her head. ‘That would be nice, but… our story’s different from yours. We’re from a different country, a different time. A different home.’

‘We’ve helped lots of people find their way home since we came here,’ Diana added. ‘We could help you…’

‘No, Duck. We made our decision. It wouldn’t be fair to you lot to make you help us home before seeing to your own. No, we need to do this thing ourselves.’

‘But what about the War? What about Bert…?’

Mavis sighed, picking at a blade of grass. ‘I can’t help Bert. They wouldn’t let me. They’d never let me ship out with him. No, I wanted to fight wickedness - physically, with my fists. I got what I wanted, all right. Besides, if what you say is true, well… I’ve still got three years to train up here, get back and sort Old Hitler out, not I?’

Diana smiled. ‘I’m gonna miss you, Mavis.’

‘How big can this world be?’ replied Mavis with a bright smile in return. ‘I’m sure we’ll bump into each other again. Here, or… or if we both get back, you could always visit…’

‘You’d have to wait a while,’ Diana replied, ‘over 40 years. Maybe longer, at the rate we’re going.’

Mavis shrugged again. ‘I’ll knit yer a scarf while I’m waiting.’

Diana nodded as Mavis finished off her tea. ‘Deal. An orange one would be neat.’

 

Mavis got up, and walked over to the others. The minor argument had long since dissipated and turned into a game of Eye Spy.

‘Right, you two,’ she announced to the others. ‘We’re off.’

‘So soon?’ Objected Presto, although Edie spoke right over him.

‘Can Clive come too?’ She crouched down and threw her arms around the Griffin’s neck.

‘That thing?’ Mavis scratched her eyebrow. ‘Well, all right. I suppose he might come in useful. Once he’s a bit bigger. And can fly.’

‘Cheers, Mave!’

‘You’re looking after him, though.’

‘Of course I will.’

 

And so they said their goodbyes, and shortly turned away from the Americans’ camp, taking a meandering trail through the thick grass, away from the caves.

Edie was the last one to stop waving goodbye behind her.

‘Why are we leaving that lot, again? They were nice, they were stuck here like us, they had weapons like us… do you pair not believe in Safety In Numbers?’

‘This is just the way it has to go,’ explained Trevor.

‘Let me guess,’ Edie added. ‘Another vision, right?’

Trevor didn’t reply, but smiled softly to himself.

‘So,’ continued the Bard, ‘I don’t suppose you’re getting any visions that tell us where we should be going next, are you?’

Trevor sniffed, looking off into the distance. ‘I like the look of that mountain,’ he announced.

‘Then that’s where we’ll go,’ Mavis replied, altering her direction.

‘A mountain,’ griped Edie, ‘in these shoes? Yer having me on.’

Neither Crusader nor Seer answered her, but continued their course towards the far off mountain.

And because there was nothing else to be said, after a while Edie cleared her throat dramatically, and began to sing.

‘Hi Ho, Hi Ho,

Old Venger’s on the po,

He wipes his bum wi’ chewing gum,

Hi Ho, Hi Ho Hi Ho Hi Ho…’

 

-x-

 

THE END