Elijah thought it was the silence that woke him, a silence so complete it was deafening. He raised his head and glanced around, Muppy was lying next to him, fast asleep, her breathing regular, all of her right side was scorched and scarred, her fur having been burned away. Worlyn was sitting on a dilapidated rocking chair, reading an old and worn leather bound book, his stinking pipe stuck between his gums, wafting smoke. Twinkle was perched on his shoulder looking as though she was reading it also.

  Worlyn glanced up, as if sensing Elijah was awake. ‘Ah good, how do you feel?’

  ‘Tired, sore, knackered.’

  ‘Knackered? What does that mean?’

  ‘Exhausted, I think.’ Elijah slowly swung his legs over the bed and sat up.

  ‘Where did you hear that word?’

  ‘Don’t know, just came to me.’

  ‘Well it’s good to see you awake, I’ve been worried, you’ve been out for four days.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Oh yes, are you hungry?’

  ‘No, thirsty more than anything.’

  ‘I’m not surprised, although I’ve been spoon feeding you every half hour with water and potions, I haven’t been able to get enough down you. That reminds me.’ Worlyn stood, Twinkle gripping his shoulder tight, placed the book behind him on the rocker, walked to the table, picked up a goblet and carried it to Elijah.

  ‘I’ve had the strangest dreams.’

  ‘What sort of dreams?’

  ‘I dreamt you were kissing me.’

  ‘Ha, ha, with a face like yours.’

  ‘And you were kissing Muppy.’

  ‘Double ha, ha, why would I kiss your dog? Here drink this, it’ll make you feel better.’

  Elijah took the drink, drank it in one and passed the goblet back to Worlyn. ‘Isis came to me.’

  ‘Really, what did she say?’

  ‘I must get the White Shield of the Realm from the Three Sisters and enter the Centuria Tournament.’

  ‘Yes, well, we already knew that.’

  ‘She said the gods have abandoned me.’

  ‘Knew that also.’

  ‘Have Esme or Bearbert come to you?’

  ‘No, haven’t seen hide nor hair of them.’

  ‘We killed the Twanguine didn’t we?’

  ‘You did, I only created a light.’

  ‘But without the light I wouldn’t have been able to kill it. Where’re the Scimitars?’

  ‘Still in that room, I can’t pick them up.’

  ‘Is the Twanguine still there?’

  ‘Yes, rotting quite nicely, terrible stink in there.’

  ‘Why me Worlyn?’

  ‘I don’t know Elijah, I don’t even think the gods know.’

  ‘What happens now?’

  ‘Firstly, you recover, get yourself better, get used to your face.’

  ‘My face, what’s wrong with my face?’

  Worlyn gave a weak smile, turned, went to one of the shelves, took a small, ornate mirror down, went to Elijah, handed it to him and sat back down, and then standing and removing the book.

  Elijah looked at himself and was shocked. He’d never have said he was handsome, not with a lop-sided face, but at least his skin was once smooth and of the one colour. Now he was a monster. There wasn’t an area of his face that wasn’t marked or pitted with purple and red scars, large holes that were black, others that exposed white bone, one side of his cheek had been burned away exposing his back teeth, much of his hair had been scorched, exposing a scarred and angry looking scalp. He threw the mirror into a corner, where it smashed.

  Worlyn breathed out, seven years bad luck. ‘At least Muppy still loves you, because she can see what’s inside.’

  ‘IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MAKE ME FEEL BETTER? I’m a monster.’

  Worlyn picked up his pipe. ‘You’ll never be a monster Elijah, ugly yes, hideous yes, terribly scarred for life, yes, but never a monster.’

  Elijah glared at Worlyn, then stood shakily and staggered from the room, slamming the door open, and slamming it shut behind him.

  Worlyn jumped up and tried to follow, but the door wouldn’t open for him. He banged his fist against the solid wood. ‘Don’t go far, you’ve got to go back to the waterfall.’

  Elijah ran down the dark torch lit corridor, bouncing off the sandstone walls, falling and scraping his elbows and knees. Then he was up again running, staggering, colliding into walls, scraping his hands, scratching his arms, wanting to find somewhere to hide himself, somewhere dark, somewhere alone, where he could hide from the world, hide from the gods. Then he saw the door slightly open and crashed through it.

  He was falling, falling through thousands of steps, falling past snow covered mountain tops. He was screaming, and then he stopped because he couldn’t breathe, because the air was being whipped away from his lungs. And he was falling into a valley, the snow covered ground coming up to meet him, and just when he thought he’d smash into the ground, he just went through it and was lying face down on hard and cold lavishly decorated tiles.

  He looked up, he was in a vast classical hall, on both sides were smooth, black marble pillars, at least a hundred of them on either side, stretching high, supporting an enormous opulent vaulted ceiling. At one end were three large, elaborately cast, bronze doors. Each door was covered in strange bas-reliefs of figures, impossible shapes, moons, suns and stars.

  Wearily, Elijah staggered to his feet and continued looking around at this fantastic place.

  ‘Hello Elijah.’

  He spun to face where the echoing female voice had come from. At the far end, raised to chest height on a brightly lit stage were three young women, clad in heavy long black dresses, sitting on sumptuous thrones.

  ‘Come closer Elijah and sit.’

  Elijah hesitated; out of the corner of his eye he noticed movement from behind some of the pillars. Dark undistinguishable shapes were moving, stalking him.

  ‘Don’t be afraid, nothing in this hall will harm you. You’re our guest. Come, sit, take refreshments.’

  He noticed a plain chair had appeared in front of the stage, besides it was a small table, on which was a cup and large plate filled with fruit. Slowly, he walked towards them, turning his head left and right, watching the dark shapes advancing with him. He reached the chair. Now he was closer he could see the faces of the three women. They were identical, and impossibly beautiful. Their hair was long and jet-black, combed in the same style, reflecting the light of the burning torches. They wore the same long black dresses with identical gold and silver jewellery. Their skin was pale, as if not seeing sunlight for a very long time, and their eyes were the most brilliant green. Then he realised who they were, the Three Sisters.

  The one in the middle spoke, ‘I’m Gremelda, the eldest, this,’ she waved her right hand toward the identical women on her right, ‘is Grinfreda, my sister and second eldest.’ Grinfreda inclined her head in a bow. ‘And this,’ she waved her left hand, ‘is my third sister Grunhilda, the youngest.’ The identical Grunhilda inclined her head in a bow.

  Elijah was somewhat confused; they all looked exactly the same age.

  ‘Sit Elijah, partake in some refreshment.’

  Elijah sat, but did not take anything, instead continued looking at the Three Sisters.

  ‘We watched you defeat the Twanguine,’ Grunhilda spoke.

  ‘You were very brave,’ said Grinfreda.

  ‘It’s left you badly scarred,’ said Gremelda.

  ‘How?’ Elijah asked. ‘How did you see?’

  ‘We’re prisoners inside this mountain, but we can see outside,’ answered Grunhilda.

  ‘The stories you’ve been told about us aren’t true, we’re not ogres,’ spoke Grinfreda. ‘We sought only to challenge the omnipotence of the gods.’

  ‘And for that,’ spoke Gremelda, ‘they imprisoned us in this mountain.’

  ‘For all eternity,’ Grunhilda finished.

  Elijah took a deep breath. ‘You’ve the White Shield of the Realm?’
>
  ‘Yes,’ all three sisters answered.

  ‘May I have it?’

  ‘Yes,’ answered Grinfreda.

  ‘For three things in return,’ spoke Grunhilda.

  ‘What three things?’

  ‘Firstly, the Probability Feather of Zeus,’ answered Gremelda.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Our passage to freedom,’ answered Grinfreda.

  ‘Why can’t you get it yourselves?’

  ‘Isn’t it obvious?’ asked Grunhilda.

  ‘Our magic’ll not work outside our prison,’ continued Gremelda.

  ‘Where’s this Probability Feather?’

  ‘In the Great Hall of the Gods,’ answered Grinfreda.

  Suddenly Elijah laughed, he couldn’t help it, it was so ridiculous.

  ‘What amuses you Elijah?’ asked Gremelda.

  ‘You expect me to go into the Great Hall of the Gods and steal, what is obviously a prized possession of the gods, just like that?’ He clicked his fingers.

  ‘You’ve entered the Great Hall before?’ it was a rhetorical question by Grinfreda.

  ‘Yes, and the gods caught me.’

  ‘You’re the only human ever to enter the Great Hall,’ said Grunhilda.

  ‘Am I?’

  ‘And you survived,’ stated Gremelda.

  ‘Even we three cannot enter the Great Hall of the Gods,’ said Grinfreda.

  Elijah shook his head. ‘What’s the second thing?’

  ‘The Pyramid of Phoebe,’ answered Grinfreda.

  ‘And what’s that?’

  ‘It’s a small golden pyramid that opens to reveal a small lock of the goddess Phoebe’s hair,’ answered Grunhilda.

  ‘Where is it?’

  ‘On the third continent Lemeno, hidden in the altar of the Temple of Phoebe,’ answered Grinfreda.

  ‘And what’s the third thing?’

  ‘The Sacred Book of Aphrodite,’ answered Grunhilda.

  ‘And where’s that?’

  ‘On the second continent Chestor, guarded by the Ni-Di warrior priests of Aphrodite,’ Grunhilda continued.

  ‘How am I supposed to get to these continents?’

  ‘Worlyn will show you,’ answered Gremelda.

  ‘And why do you want them?’

  In perfect synchronisation the three sisters put their right forefingers to their noses and tapped once.

  Elijah was becoming angry, he thought these tasks were impossible, he decided to go back for the scimitars, come back and take the shield by force.

  ‘You’ll not be allowed entry,’ spoke Grinfreda.

  ‘We can see into your mind,’ said Grunhilda.

  ‘We’ll turn our prison into a fortress,’ said Gremelda.

  ‘You’ll never take the shield by force,’ said Grinfreda.

  Elijah nodded, he realised this to be true. Movement behind the pillars again caught his eye. ‘What’s behind the pillars?’

  ‘Our pets,’ answered Grunhilda.

  ‘Our protection,’ spoke Gremelda.

  ‘Our love,’ spoke Grinfreda.

  ‘Can I ask you something?’

  ‘We’ll allow you three more questions,’ answered Grunhilda.

  ‘Which we’ll answer truthfully and to the best of our knowledge,’ spoke Gremelda.

  ‘If we don’t know the answer, we’ll say so,’ spoke Grinfreda.

  ‘After that you and Worlyn must seek the objects we desire,’ all three sisters spoke at once.

  Three questions, Elijah took a deep breath, ‘Why me?’

  Again, they spoke at once, as if rehearsed, ‘We don’t know the answer to that.’

  Great, stupid question. ‘Will I survive?’

  ‘We don’t know.’

  ‘Why have the gods turned against me?’

  The three sisters were silent for a moment, continuing to stare at Elijah, then Gremelda spoke, ‘Because Elijah, you’re the Nemesis of the gods.’

  Nemesis, Nem, that’s what Isis was going to say. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘The universe, Elijah,’ spoke Grinfreda, ‘is timeless. Planets, suns, galaxies have been born and died, new ones have been born, it is a cycle of death and regeneration, death and regeneration.’

  ‘In that time,’ Grunhilda continued, ‘billions of different races have developed, flourished, become powerful, died and lost from memory.’

  Gremelda took over, ‘But for millions of years the most populous race in the universe has been humans. In some galaxies humans have developed science to such a degree as to make them gods.’

  ‘In our galaxy,’ Grinfreda continued, ‘magic has developed. The most powerful humans made themselves into gods.’

  ‘What, the gods were once humans?’

  ‘That’s another question Elijah,’ spoke Grunhilda, looking at her two sisters.

  ‘You must leave now Elijah, as you bring us one of the three objects we desire,’ said Gremelda.

  ‘We’ll answer another question,’ said Grinfreda.

  ‘And when you have brought us all three objects, we’ll give you The White Shield of the Realm.’ Grunhilda finished and the Three Sisters waved their right hands in perfect synchronisation.

  Elijah felt an enormous tiredness spread across his limbs and body, he felt exhausted and wanted to close his eyes.

  But something inside him fought, what he knew was their spell. He knew, inside this mountain, they were all powerful. But not powerful enough, against him, he knew their magic was mightily inadequate.

  ‘Well, Elijah,’ spoke Gremelda, ‘you’re a surprise. This is our domain, in these mountains we’re the rulers, and yet.’

  ‘We’ve no power over you,’ finished Grinfreda.

  ‘Here we’re the gods, and yet we’ve no power over you,’ said Gremelda.

  ‘Why’s that Elijah?’ asked Grunhilda.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘We know at first that Zanatos used magic against you, then Bagarnack, Bearbert and Esme, we know you can use magic in the form of magical objects,’ said Grinfreda.

  ‘The White Shield,’ injected Gremelda.

  ‘The scimitars,’ said Grunhilda.

  ‘The secret corridors of Dragoylia, the Corridor of Shadows,’ said Grinfreda.

  ‘Now we know that magic will not work against you,’ said Gremelda.

  ‘Even the magic of the gods will not work against you,’ said Grunhilda.

  ‘We know this because Bagarnack sent the Twanguine against you,’ said Grinfreda.

  ‘He tried, and nothing happened,’ said Gremelda.

  ‘You must go now Elijah,’ stated Grunhilda.

  ‘How do I get out?’

  ‘The way you came in,’ answered Grinfreda.

  ‘I came in through the ceiling.’

  The Three Sisters began gently laughing, looking at one another.

  ‘You came in through the middle door Elijah,’ said Gremelda, pointing to the three doors behind him.

  Elijah turned, looking at the three, fantastically wrought doors. Something wasn’t right, he was sure he’d dropped in through the ceiling.

  As if she’d read his thoughts Grunhilda spoke, ‘The Corridors of Shadows and the doors to other places can sometimes have a strange effect on humans.’

  ‘Who’re not used to their magic,’ finished Grinfreda.

  ‘Go through the middle door Elijah and you’ll find yourself back in the Corridors of Shadows,’ said Gremelda.

  ‘One thing that puzzles me, how did you get the shield when no one’s supposed to be able to lift it?’

  ‘Except you Elijah,’ answered Grunhilda.

  ‘Yes, but.’

  ‘No more questions Elijah,’ interrupted Grinfreda.

  ‘Go now,’ said Gremelda.

  Elijah stood, turned and began walking the long distance to the three great doors. On either side of him, behind the pillars, he saw the shadows matching his pace, he quickened his step, and the shadows kept up with him, he stopped and the shadows sto
pped. He began jogging and the shadows seemed to race him until he was running full pelt towards the doors. It was a race to see who would reach the doors first, because the pillars went right up to the side of the doors. He had no idea what sort of beasts the shadows were, but had the feeling if they reached the doors first they would have him. He wished he’d brought the scimitars.

  He reached the doors first and crashed through the middle one, then he was falling, through clouds, past snow-capped mountain tops, into a green valley, and the ground was racing up to him. He screamed and appeared to hit it.

  But he felt nothing whatsoever, and he was laying face down on the cold stone floor of the Corridor of Shadows, unharmed, but out of breath. He looked up, he was outside Worlyn’s room, and the door was opening. Something warm and wet began frantically licking his face, in his ears, up his nose, everywhere. Muppy.

  ‘Where the blinkinheck have you been for the past month?’

  Elijah sat up, grabbed the frantic Muppy and held her away from his face, but she wouldn’t be still, wriggling, trying to lick the skin off his face, neck, hands, any bit of skin she could reach and lick. He turned to see Worlyn standing behind him, hands on hips, Twinkle perched on his shoulder, and looking angry. ‘What?’

  ‘I said, where’ve you been for the past month?’

  ‘The past month? But I’ve only been gone an hour.’ He drew Muppy close to him and snuggled his head into her fur.

  ‘You’ve been gone a month, and what’re you doing lying on the floor? Don’t you realise how worried I’ve been. I’ve been trapped, can’t even open my own door, and then it opens mysteriously. I thought you dead from your injuries, and there you are, practically healed, still horribly scarred, but healed, no infection, which is good. Well?’

  ‘Well what?’ Elijah asked, pulling an even more ugly face, and looking up, which once again gave Muppy the chance to ecstatically lick him.

  Worlyn began a rant, walking up and down the corridor waving his arms in the air, making Twinkle fly off his shoulder back into his room and her shelf. ‘Where’ve you been? Oh no, don’t think about me, stuck down here, with only your dog and Twinkle to talk to. No doors will open for me, no gods have been to see me, my magic is non-existent, I can’t do anything. The gods are punishing me, they’ve taken away my magic. Oh no, nevermind about old stupid Worlyn, nothing to eat except decades old dragon’s liver and a bag of floomore beans. And the two of them have been pooping everywhere, wouldn’t think so much poop could come out of two little creatures. Before I could just incinerate it, but now...’

  Elijah climbed to his feet, still holding Muppy to his chest, and still stroking her ears. ‘I thought you liked dragon’s liver and floomore beans?’

  ‘I do, yes, I do, but not for breakfast, lunch, tea and supper for a month.’

  ‘What’s Muppy been eating?’

  ‘Dragon’s liver and floomore beans, same as me and Twinkle.’

  ‘You can’t do magic?’ Elijah was surprised, what’d happened, how come a month had passed, when it only felt like an hour?

  ‘Nothing, can’t even conjure a sausage.’

  ‘Is it the gods?’

  ‘Of course it’s the gods.’ Worlyn took a deep breath, ‘Anyway, where’ve you been?’

  ‘To see the Three Sisters.’

  ‘What?’ Worlyn staggered back with disbelief. ‘How come you’re still alive?’

  Elijah shook his head, he suddenly felt very thirsty, his tongue felt like sandpaper and his lips were swollen. ‘I need a drink.’

  ‘Oh yes, you need a drink, nevermind about me, you need a drink. What happened with the Three Sisters?’

  Elijah looked at him, ‘Worlyn, give me some moments please.’