Thomas Kindercook and the Pink Pyjamas

  “Ground of stone, start to quake,

  Off this building, Victor shake.”

  Victor however was faster than Thomas' spell. The building shook madly underneath the ancient wizard, sending dust motes up from the cracks, and threatening to bring down the building. Victor shoved his hand down toward the ground and an unseen force lifted him up into the air, out of harm's way.

  Thomas, seeing Victor preoccupied with hovering, threw a red stone. Victor saw it coming. Growling he let go of the force keeping him afloat, and landed roughly on the floor as the red stone sailed over his head. The building was now trying to bounce Victor off once again.

  “Thomas!” The scream came from behind him. Thomas barely had a moment to react when the sword swung into the blocks behind where his head had been a split second before. Thomas now lay on his back staring up into a face distorted by hatred. Gatsby had tried to kill him. Things couldn't be worse. Victor was once again in the air, and Gatsby was swinging his sword like a lumberjack.

  Thomas grabbed for the nearest thing he could find. The teleportation stone that he had thrown was just at arm's length. Quickly he threw it between Gatsby's legs. Gatsby caught in mid-swing, was startled as Thomas jumped out of sight and appeared between his legs, causing Gatsby to tumble forward. Gatsby turned on Thomas growling. Thomas once again grabbed the stone and threw it toward Gatsby. Gatsby grabbed it out of the air before it hit anywhere and smiled wickedly at Thomas. He stood up and chucked it over his shoulder. He then lifted his sword to bring crashing down on Thomas, and.... disappeared. He blinked back right beside Victor while still swinging the sword downward. He narrowly missed cutting Victor in two. So startled was Victor, that he lost his concentration and came crashing back down on the the ground. The ground started to shake once again trying to heave Victor, and now Gatsby, over the top of the wall.

  Thomas, no longer in possession of a teleportation stone, inched his way along the ground toward Alanna. Both Alanna's hands and feet were bound.

  Victor had managed to fight off the heaving ground, and was now bringing himself to his feet. Gatsby looked on in stony silence.

  “You're a resourceful little rat. You may have the luck of Haggral, but I know someone that doesn't!” Victor cackled.

  “Dagger of Death!” Victor's arm shot up again into the air. Dark clouds started swirling above him. Thomas didn't like the look of this. He literally was unable to move fast enough to do anything about it. He searched through the bag of stones for anything that would help him, but there was little left. Thomas reached for the one red stone left at the bottom of his bag. The clouds were forming into a dagger that appeared in Victor's hand. Victor wasn't looking at Thomas, he was looking at Alanna!

  Thomas desperately fumbled to get the stone into his hand.

  Gatsby was watching in horror as realization of what was about to happen overcame him. Gatsby could see the stone that Thomas had used on him to teleport, lying at his feet. Not much time to act. Gatsby grabbed for the stone.

  Anytime you have a near death experience time seems to slow down as your body releases adrenalin. Your mind is suddenly razor sharp, but your body seems to slow down. Thomas was keenly aware that, at the same moment he threw the red stone with all his might, Gatsby was throwing the teleportation stone in his direction. Victor was sneering in triumph as he let go the dagger. The dagger flew true and straight toward its target. It seemed things moved slowly enough that Thomas would be able to reach up and pull the dagger out of the air as it passed by, but something happened before it even reached its target. The red stone heading toward Victor collided with the teleportation stone heading toward Thomas. Everything happened at once. Gatsby appeared in front of Victor and the dagger, and the red stone created a fireball that seemed to erupt from Gatsby's back and headed toward Victor. Moments seemed to drag. Thomas could see the Dagger heading straight for Gatsby's back. He knew there was no time to make a coherent spell.

  “Nature alter,

  Dagger falter!”

  As slow as things seemed to move, the words could not come out of Thomas' mouth fast enough. As Thomas was sounding out the spell, Victor was waving his arm furiously trying to stave off the fireball that loomed before him. Just as Thomas finished the spell, blue energy erupting from his body hit the dagger at the exact moment that the dagger embedded itself in Gatsby's back. Gatsby disintegrated right before Thomas' eyes. One moment he was there, the next all that was left was a black cloud of vapour. As Gatsby disappeared into nothingness, the fireball exploded against Victor, sending him hurtling back against the stone wall again. There was another resounding crack as his head hit the stone, and Victor crumpled to the ground unconscious.

  The ending to the battle had happened so quickly that it took Thomas several moments to realize it was over. Gatsby was gone, Victor was unconscious, and the Shadow was no where to be seen. The first sound that Thomas became aware of was Alanna sobbing behind him.

  Gatsby. “I'm sorry Alanna.”

  “Whatever he did, he was still my friend.” Alanna sputtered the words out between gasps of breath. Thomas didn't know what to say. He hadn't known Gatsby very long. He had thought Gatsby was his first real friend in this world, but Gatsby had turned on him and now he was gone.

  Alanna did her best to smile even though her heart was obviously not in it.

  “Oh Thomas, I am so happy to see you. I was worried that the last thing you would hear from me, would have been words I said in anger.”

  Thomas couldn't say what it was, but all of a sudden, a well of emotion inside of him poured over. Alanna was safe. It was finally hitting home. He wrapped his arms around her, and just stood there, letting her cry into his shoulder.

  The weather seemed to sense the shift in power. The battle between the dragon factions had come to an unlikely end. The Blue Dragons had taken heavy casualties. The Yellow only fared slightly better. The Storm Dragons were all but gone, the few remaining fled when it became clear that they were not going to be the victors this day. Tretchbolt had easily dispatched the Ogres, who had all run away at the sight of the monster dragon. Thomas spent most of the day cleaning up after the battle, returning Tretchbolt to his regular size, caring for the injured as much as he could.

  Thomas picked his way across the battlefield, checking for anything moving. Up ahead was a site that he had been avoiding. Sammuel was standing, looking about the spot where Judy had been thrown. As he stepped through the mass of fallen soldiers, Thomas realized that something was wrong.

  “She's gone Thomas.”

  “I know. I didn't want to tell you during the attack.”

  “No. You misunderstand, she's missing!”

  Thomas was confused. What did Sammuel mean? “She was... she... died, didn't she? I saw her...” Sammuel was clearly having problems coming to terms with the loss of Judy.

  “I checked her myself.” Thomas was having difficulty talking about Judy's death.

  “That's what I thought.” Sammuel looked around anxiously. “I saw her here. I turned around for a moment, and when I turned back. She was gone.”

  There was no way that she could have survived. Thomas had been very careful in checking her. He had tried everything he could to save her, but nothing had worked.

  “We can't have... the funeral without...” Thomas put his arm under Sammuel's arm, allowing the elder man to lean on Thomas for support. Sammuel looked older than his already generous age that moment. The battle had taken its own physical toll, but the emotional toll of losing Judy not once, but twice, seemed to be more than he could bear.

  There was no revelry in this victory. The cost greatly overshadowed the gain. The Blue Dragons had taken losses equal to half their armed forces. The Yellow and Green alike were reeling. Had not the wizards joined in the battle, the losses would have been significantly larger. As it was, the small group of wizards still standing had healed wounds and aided in cleaning up the aftermath. Even the Red Dragons still living, were being
treated, though they were now under the control of Alkamire's forces. The outcome could have been much worse. It was of small comfort to the group of five that stood that evening atop the highest tower of the ancient castle. Thomas, Alanna, Tretchbolt, Alkamire and Sammuel stood before a cauldron of fire. Sparks exploded as pitch from the still-wet-wood exploded in a hail of embers. The smoke was thick in the air, but the wind carried it away from the small group.

  Each person in succession, lit a piece of paper and let it fly out on the wind. Thomas was told this was symbolizing the loss of friends, which would now float on to the spirit world. For Thomas, it was Judy he thought of as he let go the burning paper into the chill winter wind. Alanna hadn't spoken to Thomas that much since the battle. It would take time before they could come to terms with the loss of their friends.

  CHAPTER 40

  SEALED

  The ancient castle was enormous. Even with the armies of dragons and humans, it was a great task to clean out the castle to make it liveable. Those that had been captured were held in the dungeon cells under the castle. There were centuries of bodies and grime to eliminate in order to make the dungeons a liveable environment. The Blues set to the task of creating long burning torches for the walls. Despite being dark, damp and severely run down, the castle echoed a time of greatness. The broken picture frames and torn tapestries indicated that, at a point long ago, this castle would have been very lavish. There were an abundance of fireplaces that had probably not been used in centuries that the Yellow Dragons had begun to clean up and light. The camp gear that had been at the bottom of the mountain, had all been brought up, and the greens were cleaning out the rooms and setting up lodgings.

  Thomas knew that he should help with the cleaning, but he needed to get away. He could feel the unease gnawing at his chest. Alanna. He hadn't spoken more than a few words to her, and he still didn't know how he was going to approach her. The properties of the journal had planted seeds of doubt in his heart. He loved Alanna, he was certain of that much, but he feared how she would react when she learned it had all been a spell. If she shunned him... that would crush Thomas. He knew he would have to confront her about it, but he just didn't have the strength to do it now.

  His leg still ached. An older lady wizard by the name of Colette had cast a sort of healing spell on it, but had advised him it would still take time to fully mend. Thomas was grateful, that, at the very least he could walk, even if it did still bother him a little.

  In wanting to get away from the crowds of people, Thomas had started to explore the more remote sections of the castle. There were many rooms that looked like they had never been opened. There was one in particular that had caught Thomas' eye. It was just off a large hall near the rear of the castle. The door was large and wooden, like many of the doors in the castle. This one however hadn't suffered the wear of age like most of the others had. Carved into the door, was the scene of a valley with a castle on the hillside. It looked a fair bit like this castle, only the hill wasn't as steep or abrupt, and the land around was depicted as more lush. The grassy area of the hills were inlaid with a carved jade-like rock. The trees too were inlaid in a brown stone that had been detailed. Blue lapis had been used for the sky, and what looked like diamonds made up the castle. The image was stunning. Thomas knew he had to see what was behind such a door. He moved his torch around the door in search for a handle of some sort, but was unable to find any means in which to open the door. Odd to have a door with no handle. He decided to test it.

  Laying a hand on the door, Thomas gave a shove. As his hand touched the surface, something inside the door clicked, and it slowly swung inward. A gasp of air rushed through the door as if the room had been suffocating. It's smell reminded Thomas of old attics and musty books. Thomas suddenly felt a little worried. He was quite far away from the others, and if something were to happen to him here, no one would notice for quite some time.

  Thomas grunted in anger at himself. He was acting silly. The room had clearly not been opened in a very long time. If there was anything in that room, it would be long dead. Strangely that thought didn't comfort Thomas at all.

  As it turned out, the room was just as amazing as the door that hid it. The first thing that hit Thomas was how clean the room was. He had expected some degree of wear, definitely a thick layer of dust, and probably the remains of centuries of rats, but the richly carpeted floors showed no signs of wear or even age. The mirrors and silverware shone, books and papers seemed to be organized, and there wasn't a speck of dust to be seen. The room looked to be a bed chamber of some sort. Even though it smelt like no one had been in this room in a very long time, the room was so clean that it had to have been regularly maintained. It just seemed so strange to Thomas that in this large ancient castle, full of many derelict rooms, that one room would look like time had forgotten it.

  There were paintings, books, weapons... all manner of odds and ends really. Everything having its own place, and everything placed neatly.

  Then something on the floor caught Thomas' attention. There was a trail of what looked to be blood, still wet, leading over to a desk where, under a glass, two highly polished pieces sat. A crown made of Gold, and a Silver Tiara with diamonds sat on display as if waiting to be picked up by their owners. This must have been the king and queen's room, thought Thomas.

  The blood on the floor made Thomas a little nervous. This room was very strange. Whose blood could that be? Thomas followed the trail over to the crown and carefully moved the heavy domed glass piece aside to lift it up and examine it. It was heavy, and the gold had a slight patina to it that suggested age. There were ivy vines and flowers gracefully etched into the soft metal, and an inlay of what looked to be a silver metal though heavily tarnished to highlight the dark gold. Thomas flipped it over in his hand to see the inner rim. The words 'Wisdom to rule, courage to defend' were etched into the gold.

  Thomas walked over to the bed with the crown in hand and sat down. It was quite heavy. He couldn't imagine someone actually wearing this for any long periods of time. It would surely give them a headache. Thomas stood up and approached the gilded mirror. Giving the mirror a sultry look, Thomas put the crown on top of his head, and tilted it forward like detective in a 1950's mystery movie.

  “You know, it kind of suits you.”

  Thomas nearly jumped through the ceiling.

  Alanna stood in the doorway smirking.

  Thomas' cheeks heated up and he fumbled for words. “Uh... hi.” Classy thought Thomas. Just the right mixture of disinterest and fumbling.

  Alanna had managed to clean up, and was looking a bit more herself. The expression she had as she noticed the trail of blood was exactly that of someone biting down on an aggravated aching tooth.

  “You don't have anything to do with that, do you?”

  “No!”

  “Hmm.” Alanna walked over to the tiara, picked it up, and plunked it down on her head.

  “So? How do I look?”

  Alanna stuck a regal pose.

  “As if you were born in a tiara.” Thomas said a little nervously. She was beautiful, and the more he thought about what he had to eventually bring up, the more nervous he grew.

  “I'm sorry Alanna. I should have come to get you sooner.”

  “Come get me?” Alanna sounded annoyed. “Only a knucklehead would have tried that alone.”

  Alanna put her hand on Thomas' shoulder. Her features seemed to visibly soften. “You're not stupid Thomas. You did the right thing. And you rescued me!”

  “Technically Gatsby rescued you.” Thomas could see Alanna flinch at the mention of his name. “Gatsby was holding me hostage Thomas. What happened isn't your fault. If you hadn't come up, I'm not sure that Victor would have let me live.”

  “I don't know. I think that you wouldn't have been in danger in the first place if it hadn't been for me.”

  He knew that Alanna was just trying to make him feel better, but Thomas still couldn't help but feel
that he was responsible for the whole mess. Thomas' gaze dropped to the floor and he sat down on the bed again. It was hard to look Alanna in the eye. The anxiety built up every time he tried.

  Alanna's brow furrowed in confusion. To Thomas, it felt like the room was growing smaller by the second. If he didn't figure a way out of this, he would suffocate.

  “Thomas? Are you avoiding me?”

  The butterflies in Thomas stomach were quickly becoming jack hammers. He could feel his pulse in his ears.

  “No. Not really.”

  Alanna sat down beside Thomas on the bed and stared at her feet.

  “Does this have something to do with the tattoo? I have been thinking about that. Maybe we can find someone who can remove the seal.”

  “No! No that's not it. I mean... unless you want me to...”

  “You're not upset about the tattoo?”

  Thomas sighed. There was no avoiding the direction that the conversation was heading in. “I was, at first. Then I was just scared of what it meant. I didn't know if you really liked me. Then I believed you might like me, but... I was afraid, because I have to go back. What does that mean?”

  “It doesn't matter Thomas. It's going to be fine.” Alanna gently cupped Thomas' face and turned it toward her. “You have my heart. I promise you that I am not lying about this.”

  Thomas pulled away and stared sadly at the floor. “No. I don't Alanna. Not really.”

  Alanna looked confused and a little bit angry. “What do you mean you don't. You think you know what I am feeling?”

  “I don't think you even know what you are feeling.” Thomas took a deep breath before continuing. “The journal was enchanted. I'm so sorry Alanna, I truly didn't know this. Apparently it was enchanted to cast a spell of love over anyone who attempted to read it.”

  “You're serious? The journal is a love charm? Who thought up that one?” Alanna looked very hard at Thomas, “You?”

  “No, not me. I swear.”

  “Then who?”

  “That's a long story.”

  “So you are worried that what I feel is because of the journal?”