PROLOGUE

The old man turned sharply as he heard the noise outside the tent. He waited a moment and it came again, a footfall hissing on the grass, and he stepped away from the back wall of the marquee as the knife blade ripped downwards through the canvas, cutting a six foot vertical slit.

          The hand holding the blade forced itself through the slit, followed by an arm, and the first of three men stepped through into the tent. The others followed silently and they stood, looking at the old man and the inside of the marquee, not speaking. the knife blade gleaming in the light reflected from the two table lamps on the sideboard at the back of the tent. The man holding the knife stepped forward menacingly.

          “Okay, old man! Where is it? Either you tell us or we’ll tear this whole place apart!”

The old man watched them, not answering, just waiting.

          “And then we’ll start on you! You can please yourself and make it easy, or hard, but we’ll get it, either way!”

The old man backed away from the three men as they began to move nearer to him, trying not to show his fear; trying to remain calm. He was not surprised they had come, he only wondered fleetingly and vaguely why they hadn’t used the entrance to the marquee instead of cutting through the canvas wall.

Not wanting to be seen, he surmised.

 

He had been waiting for someone to come for a long, long time.

2: Chapter 1

                           CHAPTER ONE

 

The evening sky shone with the reflected light of the fairground. The aromas of hot-dogs, popcorn,  toffee apples and candy floss rose into the warm air and mingled with the harsher odours of   sweat,  diesel oil,  and,  near the giant generator trucks,  ozone.

Music played continuously, each raucous record on each neon-lit stall competing with its neighbour and the shouts of  the shills and barkers. Humanity swayed and pulsed through the fairground, laughing,  screaming, pointing, exclaiming,  and sometimes crying.

          At the rifle range, Colin Berman sighted carefully along the barrel and gently squeezed the trigger. The last of the metal target plates folded neatly backwards on its hinge with a clang, and Colin lowered the rifle. His two companions offered their congratulations – by either  clapping him on the back or leaping about like a frenzied kangaroo.

          “Whoa! It’s not that clever, you know!”

Colin turned to the youngest of his two charges for the evening and grinned. Tim Kendal, at eight years old, was the young brother of the girl that Colin one day hoped to marry. Colin’s face clouded momentarily as he looked at the boy, seeing the resemblance to his sister and remembering with  a sharp pang that she was in no state to enjoy anything at all at the moment, and there was every possibility that she never would be. He put thoughts of his beloved Anita firmly out of his mind and concentrated on the evening at hand.

          “Shall I have another go?” Colin enquired, looking from Tim to Zoe.

Tim nodded furiously, and, in her usual laconic manner, Zoe told him to go for it. Colin waved to the stallholder who obligingly dropped a further quantity of pellets into Colin’s outstretched hand. The young man loaded the air rifle and took aim again.

          Zoe was Colin’s sister, seventeen years old to Colin’s twenty three, and in the way of all youngsters of that age, was convinced she knew everything about everything, was possessed of an acerbic wit, and had a tart tongue when she thought the occasion demanded it. And sometimes when it didn’t. She also had a streak of cynicism way too advanced for her age. She and Colin had agreed to bring Tim to the fairground – only visiting their locale for a week – to give him an evening of fun and entertainment  in the hope that it would  give him some respite from the dark shadow that had been his, and his family, and Colin’s, constant companion for the last several months. Colin reflected as he aimed at the metal plates again that it was turning out to be a good decision, as Tim had become fully engrossed in the wonders and delights of the travelling fair. At least for a few hours.

          One by one the metal plates dropped out of sight as Colin fired the rifle. His companions cheered again as the last of them collapsed. Colin eyed the prizes on display dubiously.

          “Hmm! Not a lot to choose from, is there?” he observed.

          “You’ve only spent two quid,” the stallholder sniffed. “Why don’t you ‘ave another go for a bigger prize?”

          “No thanks,” Colin replied firmly. “Enough is enough. Anyway, I might miss next time.”

          “Well, anyfink on the bo’umm two rows, yer can ‘ave.” The stallholder pointed carelessly at the prizes; two rows of  plastic or plaster-of-paris gew-gaws that you could buy for twenty pence anywhere else.

          “The sword!” Tim shouted. “Take the sword!”

He pointed to a cheap plastic sword in a scabbard. It looked exactly what it was; cheap and cheerful with its yellow coloured handle and brown sheath.

          “I see!” said Colin. “I do the work and you get the prize!” He winked at Zoe and gestured to the stallholder, who handed him his winnings.

          “Great!” exclaimed Tim.

          “Yeah! Really useful!” Zoe muttered. “Just like the cheap plastic water-pistol you won at the throw-the-ring stall !”

Tim sighed. “Wish I could have got the water blaster with back-pack reservoir,” he said wistfully.

Colin put a hand on his shoulder.

          “Think how long it would have taken to throw thirty rings over square boxes,” he said. “There wouldn’t  have been time to see anything else.”

          “Talking of which,” Zoe pointed out, “shall we move on?”

          “The Dodgems!” Tim shouted.

Colin and Zoe exchanged smiles.  “Okay,” said Colin. “Let’s go.”

They left the rifle range and wandered past the various stalls as they headed towards the huge  Dodgem Car ride at one side of the fairground.

At twenty three Colin had grown into a tall, handsome and physically fit young man. While he was by no means a gym fanatic, he tried to keep himself in shape by occasional games of soccer with his mates, jogging or running at weekends or when not seeing his beloved Anita, and sometimes practising some bar-bell pumping in the privacy of his own bedroom. He was well educated, and had a job as a publicist in a firm of advertising agents. This gave him the chance to meet people which he enjoyed very much. It was during a promotion at an art gallery that he had first met Anita, Tim’s sister. Their relationship had grown quickly and Colin had intended to wait only  a few more months before asking Anita to marry him. He sometimes reflected that maybe he – and she  -- was a bit young to be considering such a big step, but he knew with absolute certainty that Anita was the right one for him, and he was sure she felt the same about him.

Now, however, that day seemed to be as far away as ever, and again he felt the all too familiar pang of anguish. He sighed as he thought of the beautiful dark haired girl.

          “Hey! What’s that!”

Colin’s thoughts were interrupted by Zoe, who was looking at a large red and white striped marquee they were passing. She held her arm straight up with a closed fist – a sign to stop and stay still.

Zoe liked watching military action movies. And galactic epics.

They had stopped beside the small entrance canopy that projected from the tent, listening to the sounds that came from within.

          “What the hell is going on in there?” Colin wondered aloud.

          “Er- none of our business?” Tim suggested hopefully.

          “Sounds like someone’s wrecking the place,” Zoe murmured.

Colin motioned  the other two to keep quiet.

          “Just hold on a moment,” he whispered. “I’m going to take a look.”

He moved quietly to the tent entrance and carefully slid a hand between the flaps of the canvas, separating them just enough to peer cautiously through. He drew in his breath in shocked surprise.

          Three heavyset men dressed in dark suits and ties, and looking strangely business-like in the outlandish situation, were apparently systematically wrecking everything they could lay their hands on inside the tent. One of the men was holding a fourth person, twisting his arm up painfully behind his back as he sat in one of the four chairs round the large circular table in the middle of the tent. This fourth man was very, very old. He looked as if he had long since passed his hundredth birthday. He had a long, white, unkempt beard which reached almost to his stomach, and equally long and unkempt  white hair. He wore a dark blue robe with a sort of yoke of black and gold braid across the chest. The fairground fortune teller in his full working regalia, Colin surmised. The man was evidently in some pain from his twisted arm, but despite his apparent age and overdone costume, there was nothing wrong with his eyes, which were lively and alert and showed no sign at  all of  age or deterioration.

          The other two men were busy smashing up the few items of furniture in the tent, glasses and bric-a-brac from the sideboard at the back of the marquee, and overturning two table lamps that rested upon it. Pictures and posters on the walls were being ripped down in a frenzy of destruction and personal objects and papers were scattered all over the floor from the drawers of the sideboard. One of the men moved towards a cupboard on the left hand side of the tent and wrenched the door open.

          All this Colin saw in one brief glance, then, his face set in determination, he dived through the tent flaps in a leap towards the thug holding the old man in the chair.

The thug looked up in surprise but before he could move two swift blows to his face sent him reeling back and crashing into the thug behind him at the sideboard. Colin followed up his surprise attack, grabbing the second thug by the hair with one hand  and smashing his fist into the man’s face before he even had a chance to protect himself. The man went down like a felled ox. From the corner of his eye, Colin saw the old fortune teller rise quickly from the chair, rubbing his shoulder, then reaching for the huge glass crystal ball on its plinth in the centre of the table. For an elderly person, he moved remarkably quickly. The old man lifted the globe high above his head as he stumbled away from the table and moved to the back wall of the marquee, out of harm’s way.

          The third thug, recovered from his shock at the unexpected interruption,  landed a blow to Colin’s ear, sending him reeling towards the old man. Colin caught at a chair,  which arrested his progress, and turned to hit the thug as he followed him. The man fell back and without waiting, Colin turned towards the first man, now behind him and recovered from his surprise. As Colin turned, the man’s face was only inches from his, and Colin felt himself pinioned as the man wrapped his arms round the boy in a massive bear hug. Growling deep in his throat, the man moved forwards, forcing Colin backwards and almost lifting him off the ground. Colin’s arms were free and he beat his fists at the thug’s face. He might just as well have hit a brick wall, for all the effect it had.

          The next minute, the breath was knocked out of him as the thug slammed him back against the remains of the cupboard at the side of the tent. Colin shook his head dazedly, his hands falling to his sides as the tent swam in front of his eyes. Behind the thug he could see the shape of the third man rising from the floor, now holding something in his hand which glinted in the light.

          Colin’s fingers brushed against something, and he realised it was a length of wood, splintered away from the door panel of the cupboard. He glanced down past the thug at the wood. His vision blurred and wavered again and began to turn red as the breath was squeezed out of him. There was a roaring in his ears. It was becoming difficult to breathe, and still the thug kept up the relentless pressure on his chest. Colin scrabbled at the wood. His fingers could not get a grip on it properly. The bones in his back began to grate together.

          With a supreme effort, Colin brought his knee up into the man’s groin, forcing him to release his crushing hold momentarily. Colin’s hand closed round the length of wood. Pulling it free of the door panel, he raised it above his head. A jagged pain shot through his chest as he brought the wood down two-handed on the thug’s head. The man slumped to the floor without a sound, and Colin stood for a moment, breathing raggedly and trying to get some air into his tortured lungs. Every breath sent sharp pains across his chest. Suddenly, he saw a movement from the corner of his eye but before his brain could register it properly something flew through the air and plucked at the sleeve of his jacket. It was the thug’s knife and it had pinned Colin’s arm to the cupboard by his sleeve.

          Colin looked at his arm and then at the thug, who was grinning at him evilly and circling round the table towards him. The thug beckoned with one hand.

          “Come on, then, boy! Come on!”

Colin reached up with his left hand and pulled the knife free with a jerk. In the same movement he threw it towards the thug, but Colin was no expert with a knife, and the weapon missed the man by several feet and clattered against the remains of the sideboard. The thug laughed harshly and kept coming.

          Colin’s lungs were now working more normally and the pains in his chest had subsided to a dull ache. Without waiting for the man to attack him, Colin leapt forward again, swinging the wood from side to side in a scything motion. The thug ducked to avoid the blows, and as he straightened up, landed a solid punch to Colin’s stomach. The boy dropped the wood with a gasp, clutching his stomach, and the thug lashed out again. The blow was aimed at Colin’s chin, but the boy managed to twist his head enough to avoid the worst of it. The thug’s fist scraped past Colin’s ear, and the man’s own momentum carried him forward and into Colin, sending the boy crashing into one of the chairs and struggling to retain his balance.

          The thug butted him in the chest with his head, as his fist once again connected with Colin’s already sore stomach.  The boy gasped in pain and rained blows down on the thug’s back and head. Clasping his hands together, Colin delivered a sort of makeshift karate chop to the back of the thug’s neck.

          This time it was the thug who gasped in pain and staggered back, fetching up against the wall of the tent, his hands clasped round the back of his neck to soothe the pain coursing through his head. Colin took a deep breath, wincing as his chest seared with pain, and let fly with a massive left hook, connecting with the thug’s chin and sending him crashing backwards through the slit in the tent wall and out of sight.

          Colin leaned on the back of one of the chairs, gasping for breath. There was a silence in the tent for a few moments, broken only by the sound of Colin’s ragged breathing. The old man looked at him and began to lower the crystal ball from its position above his head.

          The other two thugs began to move, rising groggily from the floor. Colin turned to them wearily, expecting the fight to resume, but the second thug held up his hand.

          “Okay! Okay! Enough! We’re going!”

Colin and the old man watched as the two thugs rose to their feet and staggered towards the slit in the back wall of the marquee. One of the thugs turned to face Colin as he forced the canvas apart, ready to follow his partner out.

          “But you’ll see us again, boy! Oh, you’ll see us again!”

He gave Colin and the old man a look of pure venom and hatred, then disappeared through the slit in the canvas. Colin leaned on the chair again, massaging his stomach with the other hand.

“Ouch!  That hurts!”

He straightened up a little, wincing in pain and still short of breath. “If you wait here, I’ll go and find some police,” he said.

The old man lowered the crystal ball carefully and replaced it on the table.

          “No, let them go. They won’t bother me again.”

Colin looked at him doubtfully. “Are you sure? They looked as if they meant business to me. You should tell the police.”

The old man straightened up from replacing the crystal ball on the table and glanced across to the entrance to the tent.

          “Do they belong to you?” he asked.

Colin gave the old man a puzzled look, then turned to look at the tent entrance. Zoe and Tim had poked their heads through the tent flaps, pulling the material tightly round their necks so that only their heads were visible. The two disembodied heads were staring at Colin, the old man,  and the shambles inside the tent with wide eyes.

          Colin managed a relieved chuckle. “Yes, for my sins. They are with me.”

The old man dusted off his hands and surveyed the remnants of the marquee.

          “Well, this is a nice mess they’ve left me. But never mind that for a moment. Sit down, and ask your friends in.”

Colin slumped gratefully into one of the chairs and waved to the others to come inside the tent. The old man turned to the sideboard and straightened the two table lamps, then moved towards the remains of a curtain hanging across a small alcove that the thugs had ripped down.

          “Make yourselves comfortable,” he said. “I’ll get something to restore your nerves. If they’ve left anything intact,” he added. He disappeared through the remnants of the curtain.

          Tim and Zoe righted two chairs and sat down slowly, looking round at the mess left by Colin’s fight with the three thugs. The sound of glasses clinking came from the alcove.

          “Is this a fortune teller?” whispered Tim with reverent awe. Zoe glanced from Tim to Colin.

          “If it is, he should have seen it coming,” she said pointedly.

          “What was it all about?” Tim asked. “What did they want?”

          “Not a lot to steal here,” Zoe commented.

Colin shrugged, but was prevented from offering any answers by the return of the old man bearing a tray with two glasses of an amber liquid that looked remarkably like whisky.

          “I did, and there is, actually,” he murmured as he set the tray on the table. He pulled out the last of the four chairs and sat down opposite Colin, offering one of the glasses to Colin and keeping the second one for himself. Colin accepted the glass with a nod and took a large swallow, coughing as the fiery liquid reached his throat. The old man raised his glass in a toast to Colin.

          “Cheers,” he said. “And thank you, very, very much.”

          “So who were the suits?” Zoe asked.

Colin waved his glass at the old man.

          “Thanks for this,” he said. “I think  I need it.”

Both of them drank, and the old man turned to Zoe and Tim.

          “In answer to your – um – observations, yes, I am a – er – fortune teller. Of sorts.” He took another sip of the whisky. “And what those men were after is something that is very, very valuable to them. Well, not really to them. They were only the hired hands. Their – er – boss is the one who wants something that I’ve got. And he wants it very badly.”

          “That’s pretty obvious,” Colin remarked. “How can you be sure they won’t come back?”

The old man gazed into space for a moment before replying, then shook his head slightly.

          “No, next time, if there is a next time, it will be something different.”

          “You seem to be very cool about all this,” Zoe said quietly.

          “Cool? Ah! Yes. Cool. Perhaps,” the old man agreed thoughtfully. “I’m old, you see. I’ve seen so many things in my life that perhaps I’m not shocked or surprised so much any more.”

          “Especially if you know what’s coming,” Zoe said drily.

          “But they might have killed you!” Tim stared at the old man in horror.

          “Oh, no,” said the old man firmly. “They wouldn’t do that, because then they would never find what they were looking for. And their – um – boss would be in a towering rage if  I was dead and they hadn’t found the item.”

Colin drained his glass, set it on the table and leaned back in his chair.

          “It seems to me that you ought to put all this in the hands of the police, and let them take care of it. They could give you some protection until the fair moves on to the next town.”

          “That wouldn’t help.” The old man settled more comfortably in his own chair and surveyed the three youngsters thoughtfully. “The – um – person concerned,” he went on,  “has been searching for this for a very long time. A very long time. No matter where I am I can be found, and there can be no rest until it is no longer in my possession. I’m afraid police protection wouldn’t help me. Eventually, those goons,” he waved a hand at the slit in the tent wall, “or others like them, would get it.” He swallowed some more of his drink.

          “It all sounds very mysterious. And dangerous,” said Colin with a glance at the other two. “But, with respect, it isn’t really anything to do with us. I’m glad I was able to help, and I’ll be happy to make a statement to the authorities, but I’m not sure what might happen next time. You might not be lucky enough to have someone nearby to help. You say that this – this person, whoever he is, is bound to succeed sometime.”

He glanced significantly at the old man, then went on.

          “I think you must have been extremely lucky to have avoided thugs like that up to now, but your luck is bound to run out eventually.”

          “Luck?” queried the old man. “Is that what you think? Do you think it was luck that brought you here this evening at precisely the right time to help me?” He looked round at the three youngsters. They all wore expressions of surprise at his question. The old man collected the two glasses from  the table and rose from his chair.

          “Wait a minute,” he said. “Let me refill these and I’ll try to make things a little clearer.” He paused on his way to the little kitchenette in the alcove and turned to face them again. “Or are you in a hurry? Do you have something else to do for a while?”

          “Er – well, no. Not really,” Colin said, taken aback. “I mean, young Tim here is hoping to get to the Dodgems before we go home, but otherwise…….”

He tailed off and looked at Zoe and Tim. Zoe shrugged, and Tim pulled a face, as if to remind Colin that their urgent business on the Dodgems would not wait all night.

          “Good,” said the old man. “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll be right back.” He disappeared into the kitchenette.

Zoe shrugged again with an expression that clearly said she wasn’t bothered, either way. Tim consulted the watch on his wrist and gave Colin an anguished look.

          “It’s nearly half past eight already!” he whispered frantically.

          “We have to humour him for a bit,” Colin whispered back. “He’s an old man, and he’s had a nasty shock.”

          “Yeah. Quaking in his boots, obviously,” said Zoe drily.

They fell quiet  as the old man emerged from the alcove, his tray now bearing two full glasses, a nearly full bottle of whisky and two glasses of orange juice. He distributed the glasses, put the whisky bottle on the table and settled into his chair again. He looked carefully at each of the three, in turn.

          “If you think it was only fortuitous luck that brought you here tonight just in time to deal with those three bully boys, then I take it you don’t believe in destiny?”

          “Destiny? With a capital  D?” Colin looked and sounded more than a little sceptical.  “Now wait a minute,” he went on. “If, by destiny, you mean a sort of pre-ordained path along which life must travel, then no, I don’t.” He laughed, uncomfortably. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but  it’s quite obvious you have some sort of fortune telling act going on here, and whilst we’re all glad you’re safe, and unharmed and all that, I’m afraid we haven’t got the time, or the inclination, to have our palms read, or our fortunes told, or whatever it is you do here. You know, I really think you should save all this for your paying customers.”

The old man regarded him steadily throughout this speech and did not appear to take any offence.

          “I see,” he said. “You put your point of view quite clearly.” He turned to the others. “And am I to assume that you both feel the same?” He looked directly at Tim. The young boy squirmed in his chair and looked at Colin helplessly. The old man turned his gaze on Zoe, who was taking a sip of her drink. She scrunched up her face and shuddered.

          “Orange juice?” She put the glass on the table and pushed it away from her a few inches.

The old fortune teller smiled briefly. “Perhaps you haven’t given it a lot of thought,” he suggested, not unkindly.

          “Given that enough thought!” Zoe muttered to herself.  “Needs Tequila !”

The old man addressed Colin again.

          “Very well,” he said. “Can I ask you to humour an old man a little longer?”

Colin went pink, and Tim and Zoe looked embarrassed and highly uncomfortable.

          “I didn’t mean - ” Colin began, “that you were, er – er….” he tailed off as he realised that he was making matters worse.

The old man picked up the bottle of whisky and refilled his own glass, then Colin’s.

          “I didn’t mean destiny in quite the way you described it.” He  paused for a moment and studied Colin.

          “You would agree, though, that all through a person’s life, they have to make decisions? Every day, right from when they are tiny toddlers up to perhaps a few seconds before they die,  a person has to make some sort of decision every few seconds  of their life. Some are instantaneous, some require a little thought, and the more important ones may need hours, perhaps days or weeks of deliberation before a decision is finally reached. Would you refute this?”

Colin thought of Anita, and how he had spent several very pleasant hours, over a period of time, considering the pros and cons of marriage.

          “Well, no,” he said at last. “I wouldn’t deny the truth of that. But I don’t quite see what you’re getting at.”

The old man sipped his drink.

          “Ah. Well, as a logical progression,” he continued, “wouldn’t you also agree that given a choice of two alternatives, let’s say, then whichever way you decide, this in turn may lead,  I might even say it will lead,  to more alternatives as a result of the first one? And if you choose the other alternative, the same thing would happen but then you would have a different series of decisions to make as a result. One alternative would mean a series of consequences, with decisions to make accordingly, and the other alternative would have different consequences, perhaps major,  perhaps relatively minor, with different series of decisions attached to them.”

          “Thus spake Spock.” Zoe rolled her eyes.

          “Ah! Such cynicism in one so young!” The old man picked up his drink again as Colin leaned back in his chair, looking half understanding, half thoughtful.

          “I think I see what you mean,” he said. “You’re saying that all the decisions a person makes in life lead to different - ” he paused and cast around for the right word,

 “ –paths, if you like,  and each path has its own decisions again. And depending on what you decide, your future is pre-ordained up to the next decision, and so on, and so on.”

          “Wowser!  Heavy stuff !” Zoe sighed. Colin ignored her.

          “Tree roots and branches,” Tim nodded sagely.

          “In a simplified form, yes, that’s what I mean by destiny” said the old man. “Do you still maintain your earlier views, or would you now like to revise them at all?”

Colin looked up at the roof of the marquee.

          “I don’t know. It’s not something I’m given to thinking about, much.” He lowered his head and looked at the old man. “I still can’t accept that we have no control over our lives. I like to think we can choose how to run them.”

          “Oh, but you can.” The old man leaned forward a little and spoke earnestly. “You can choose all through your life how you run it. We create the future with our words, deeds, and beliefs. What I am saying is that the older you get, the less choices you have in the way your life will turn out, and finish up,  and this is because of factors that were decided, mostly by yourself, but partly by others, when you were younger.” The old man steepled his hands. “For instance, two days before a person dies, surely his choices and alternatives are extremely limited. His life is due to end at a certain point in time because of things he chose, or decisions he made, possibly years before.”

          “Seriously creepy,” murmured Zoe.

          “You mean like smoking,” Tim said suddenly. “If a young boy decides to smoke, that will affect his future. If he doesn’t, that will also affect his future, but differently.”

          “Exactly!” The old man bestowed a smile on Tim. “And not only just in health. You have grasped the point quite well.”

There was a silence in the tent as the three youngsters  considered what the old man had said. He watched them, letting them think it through.

          “No, I can’t really believe it,” Colin said finally. “It just doesn’t seem possible that everything can be mapped out so rigidly.”

The old man sighed and reached for the crystal ball on the table. Colin held up an admonitory hand.

          “Now hold on!” he said sharply. “I’ve already said we don’t want - ”

          “Please.” The old man spoke quietly, interrupting Colin and stopping his objection with just one word.  “I want to try and convince you,” he continued, “that what I am saying to you is right. I want to demonstrate to you, personally, that your life is already partly pre-ordained because of at least one decision you have already made.”

Colin looked at Tim, then Zoe. No help there.

          “Me?” he asked. “Me, personally?”

The old man nodded as he pulled the huge crystal ball nearer to him. “I want you to understand that this is important. To you, to one of your friends sitting at this table, to a great many other people whom you don’t know, and some of whom you will never meet.”

Colin began to feel a chill at the back of his neck. Some of the hairs there were beginning to rise.  The old man went on in a softer tone.

          “It is also important to me, and someone who is very close to me and whom I care about, deeply.”

Zoe pursed her lips in a soundless whistle. “No pressure, then.”

The old man glanced at her but ignored the comment.

          “It involves you, personally,” he said to Colin,  “and your friend. And it will cause you some anguish. Shall I continue, or not?”

Colin felt a hollow pit somewhere in the depths of his stomach. The hairs on the back of his neck, he was sure, were now standing up for everyone to see. He had a horrible feeling he knew what was coming. But how could this old man know……..? He looked at Tim, who was gazing at the old man in wonderment, then at Zoe, who shrugged, as if to say, it’s your decision. The old man was watching him, his hands resting on the top of the glass sphere. Colin paused, wondering if he wasn’t making a terrible mistake, then he nodded.

          “Alright,” he said firmly. “Go ahead.”

The old man regarded him for a moment longer, then spoke.

          “Two years ago you made a decision, after much thought and mental anguish. You made that decision because you wanted to. Because it was important to you.”

The old man slowly, almost reverently, slid his hands slowly down the  glass sphere of the crystal ball., following the curve of the glass down towards the black plinth on which it rested. As his hands separated from the top of the sphere a pattern of colours became visible inside it.

          “You knew that this decision would eventually bring you a great deal of unhappiness, but, for a time, it would mean great joy for you and for someone else.” The old man’s voice was almost a monotone as his hands continued to slide slowly down either side of the glass globe, revealing more and more swirling clouds of colour inside the crystal ball.

Colin looked at the other two. Their eyes were fixed on the sphere. The hollow feeling in Colin’s stomach was growing, becoming a solid ball that was sitting there inside him. He watched the crystal ball. The colours were forming into a sort of vertical rainbow inside the glass, beginning to revolve round the inside of the sphere. The old man continued in the same flat tone.

          “Having made that decision you were satisfied that the pattern of your life was set for at least the next few years. If you had decided differently, you know full well that your life would have been completely different.” He looked up at Colin. “You live with that knowledge every day of your life now.”

The ball inside Colin’s stomach was going to explode. He could feel it swelling, bigger and bigger. It was going to erupt from him in a massive explosion of pain and anguish, any minute now. Why had he let himself be talked into this, for God’s sake? He forced his eyes down from the old man’s face to the crystal ball, not wanting to believe he would see anything, wanting to believe as he had always done that this was the stuff of games, something to laugh about when recounted to friends, a confidence trick, a charlatan’s spiel;- and knowing, somewhere deep within that ball of pain, that he would see something, that somehow this old man was no charlatan, and that his  huge glass sphere was going to bring that ball of pain and anguish out for the world to see.

          The rainbow inside the crystal ball was now revolving clockwise, seeming to race round the inside of the glass, faster and faster until it was just a blur. Colin heard the old man’s voice as if from a great distance.

          “Watch, Colin.”

          The colours of the rainbow grew gradually fainter as the entire rainbow began to fade uniformly away,  revealing a scene inside the glass globe. The picture was distorted,  like looking through a fish-eye lens, making everything bulge, elongated, and straight edges look curved.

It was a hospital ward, just as Colin had known it would be. And, just as if he was standing at the foot of the bed, as he had done so many times,  he could see the drip on the right hand side: the tube snaking downwards  towards the bed. On the left, the large, mysterious machine beeped regularly and flashed lights, and numbers  increased and decreased by one or two digits.

          The figure in the bed, lying so still and quiet as always, was not completely visible because of the strange, distorting effect of the glass sphere.  The doctor was standing where he always stood; just to the right of the bed, at its head, his gentle words of  strength and kindness and encouragement unheard by the watchers in the tent. The nurse was there too, marking those indecipherable little lines on the chart. Behind her was the bedside cabinet, the bowl of fruit, the jug of water, and the photograph that always stood there.

          The scene in the globe began to move to the right, bringing more of the bed into view. The ball of pain in Colin’s stomach began to move as well,  rising up into his throat and making it difficult to breathe.

          The doctor patted the patient’s arm gently and turned away. The nurse replaced the chart on its hook and smiled at the patient, then she too moved away and out of view. The scene in the crystal ball moved again, becoming closer, the figure in the bed growing larger, the face almost visible now.

          Colin lowered his head and covered his eyes with his cupped hands.

          “Please, stop!” he whispered. “I don’t want to look!”

Zoe and Tim were staring at the scene in the crystal ball. Zoe’s eyes were wide and round, her mouth slightly open. Tim’s cheeks were wet with the tracks of his tears and he sniffed slightly.           The old man’s voice sounded resonant in the tent.

          “Look!” he commanded, and Colin had to obey, had to look into the glass globe and see the thing that hurt, the thing that always twisted his stomach into a knot of agony.

Slowly, starting from the chin, the face of the figure in the hospital bed became visible as the scene seemed to move downward inside the glass.

          A young girl, about twenty one or twenty two years old; raven hair, large grey eyes, moist from unshed tears, a delicate pale skin, now almost transparent in its whiteness.

Colin saw the face that he loved and knew as well as his own, and he saw more,  things that had only begun to show in the last few months; the outlines of her cheek and jawbones painfully visible under that gossamer skin; the dark circles under her eyes, the pitifully thin arms, the dark hair once so lustrous and shining now lying dull and lifeless  against the starched white pillow.

          The ball of pain exploded from his throat in a strangled sob of anger and frustration.

          Slowly, the girl turned her head, her chest heaving under the sheets and blankets  as she laboured with the effort of that small, simple movement. Her mouth moved slightly as she gasped for air. Then her head had turned and she was looking at the photograph on the cabinet, a photograph of the same girl, but in the full, youthful bloom of health, hair flying in the wind, eyes sparkling, and with a radiant smile as she looked at the camera, nestled cheek to cheek with Colin.

          Silently, she gazed at the photograph and the first tear appeared at the corner of her eye,  and ran down that fragile skin until it dropped to the pillow.

The scene in the crystal ball faded away gradually, leaving only a haunting memory of that beautiful and once healthy face, as the globe once again became an opaque white.

          There was silence in the tent, broken only by the sound of Tim sniffing. He wiped his cheeks with his hands and looked up at the old fortune teller.

          “That was Anita.” He said it with such simple trust that Colin’s heart lurched.

The old man nodded slowly at Tim.

          “Is she…… will we see her again?” Tim wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

          “That rather depends.” The old man spoke very gently. He looked across at Colin, still resting his face in his hands, then pulled the whisky bottle nearer and topped up Colin’s glass. Silently, he offered the glass to Colin, who roused with a little shake, as if awaking from a dream.

          The boy drained his whisky in one gulp, and coughed again at the burning spirit.

          “Did you have to?” he asked in a bitter voice. The old man said nothing but continued watching him.

          “God knows its painful enough when I go to visit her, but to see that - ”  he broke off and held out his glass. The old fortune teller took it and refilled it again.

          “I understand,” he said. “But do you? Do you realise now the point I was trying to make?”

Colin nodded, sipping at the fresh drink. “I do now, yes. If I hadn’t decided that I loved Tim’s sister, my life would have been completely different.” He smiled at Tim. “But because I did, that decision has planned my life up to the time -”  He tailed off, glanced at Tim again, then went on more resolutely, “ – up to the time she dies from that crippling wasting disease.”

The old man nodded again, still conveying an impression of gentleness.

          “Yes,” he agreed.  “She is terminally ill. She has only a few weeks more, at best.”

The three young people exchanged sombre glances as the old man looked down at the crystal ball. He spoke without looking up.

          “Supposing you could save her?”

          “It can’t be done. The doctors have said there is no hope now.” Colin sighed deeply and took another drink. “They’ve tried everything they can,” he added.

The old man spoke so quietly that Colin almost missed the words.

          “You can save her.”

There was suddenly an atmosphere of tension and expectancy in the tent.

          “I can save her? How? I’m no doctor.” Colin stared at the old fortune teller.

          “The three of you could save her.” The old man was still staring at the crystal ball, but his eyes seemed focused on something far away. “If you believe in what I’ve told you, “ he added. He raised his eyes to look at Colin. “And if you are lucky.”

          “Thought you didn’t believe in luck,” Colin scoffed.

The old man rose from his chair and moved slowly round the table until he was standing behind Colin. He appeared not to have noticed Colin’s remark, and seemed to be talking to himself.

          “It could be. There are so many factors…..I could help to a certain extent, of course, but, oh, I don’t know…..”

          Colin, Tim and Zoe exchanged puzzled looks as the old fortune teller mused aloud. He suddenly turned to them and spoke abruptly.

          “Would you like to see her fit and well?”

          “Of course I would! You know I would. We all would!” Colin spoke indignantly and gestured at Tim. “She’s his sister, for God’s sake!”

The old man stared at them and seemed to be deliberating. Then he became brisk.

          “I can tell you how it may be done. May be done. There are many factors outside my control, but I can help you in some ways. After that, it will be up to you. If things go wrong……”  He returned to his chair.  “Remember that other decisions are being made all the time by other persons. They affect you. Perhaps they will help you, perhaps not. No-one can foresee that.”

Colin looked round the table, an expression of total incomprehension on his face.

          “I’m sorry….I’m lost. What are you talking about?”

          “I’m talking about saving the life of that young lady,” said the old man. “But I’m still not sure you’re convinced…..” he tailed off and his eyes took on that faraway look again. Colin leaned forward and spoke to him earnestly.

          “Listen, please. I love Anita more than anything I can think of. Ever since I met her I’ve wanted to be with her, stay with her, share things with her. Yes, I made a decision because I wanted to spend as much time as possible with her before she died. Now that time is very close. You don’t know how it churns me up inside to see her lying in that hospital, growing weaker by the day, knowing that I can do nothing to save her.”

He paused and looked at Tim. 

          “I was even going to ask her to marry me, before she went into hospital,” he said. “But that took everyone by surprise, it was so sudden, and I didn’t have the chance. Now I never will have that chance.”

He took a deep breath and looked at the old man, still watching him with that absent look.

          “Do you hear me?” Colin demanded. “This is like an eleventh hour respite. If there’s the faintest chance that I can do something to help her, to give her the chance of a life she will never otherwise know, then you must tell me how.”

He leaned back and pointed an accusatory finger at the old man.

          “You told me just now that each decision we make pre-plans our futures. If you are telling me now that I can make a decision that will help to save the girl that I love, and young Tim over there adores, not to mention her parents and their feelings, then tell me what decision I must make.”

The old man remained apparently unmoved by this outburst. Colin looked round helplessly at Zoe and Tim, seeking some form of support but they remained quiet, simply looking from Colin to the old fortune teller and waiting to see what he said.

When he did speak, it was thoughtfully, as if he was still weighing up something in his mind, or perhaps watching a story unfold in front of  his eyes.

          “It is dangerous. It will involve you in many things that you cannot conceive of – that you do not believe in. But you must believe in them. You must. There is risk to your lives. Great risk. It will be difficult. No – more. At times it will seem impossible. But if you give up, if you stop believing in yourselves, or worse, if you try and fail, then you will not help her. She will die, and so might you. But  you can succeed.”

He turned his head and his eyes focused on Colin.

          “I have seen these things, already. I know that certain things can be done, and other things may be done, and only if everything comes together at the proper time will you be able to save her, and yourselves. And it will serve a greater purpose than you can imagine.”  He turned to Zoe and Tim.

          “But it requires all three of you. One is not enough by himself. It depends on the three of you,” he repeated.

Zoe had been watching the old man and now she sat up a little straighter in her chair and spoke decisively.

          “Look, er – sir. To coin a well known phrase, all this is way above my pay-grade. As Colin’s sister, of course I know Anita. But she is Tim’s sister and Colin’s girlfriend. They both should have a lot more to say about this than I, but I will say this.”

She looked at Colin, then Tim, then back at the old man.

          “If there’s something I can do, or we all can do, to help her, then I’m definitely up for it. I’ve never been one for fortune telling, or tarot cards, or anything else like that. But it seems like you have some sort of genuine clairvoyant powers, and that you know a lot about us. I noticed that you knew Colin’s name. None of us have spoken his name, and yet you knew it. That’s mega freaky.”

The old man smiled mischievously, but said nothing.

          “So I’m prepared to believe that you may know a lot of other things as well, and if you say that Anita’s life can be saved, and that we can do something to help, then I for one, say we should go for it.”

She sat back in her chair, looked at Colin, then the old man, and gave an embarrassed little cough.

“Thanks, Sis.” Colin put a hand over hers and gave her a little smile.

The old fortune teller nodded slowly at Zoe as if in agreement with some innermost thought of his own, then he turned to Tim.

          “And what have you to say about all this, young man?”

The young boy had been fiddling with the plastic water pistol on the table in front of him. His tears had dried, leaving two rather dirty looking marks down his cheeks.

          “I would like my sister back, mister,” he said. “I miss her. Although she’s a lot older than me, we used to have a lot of fun together before she became ill.”

Another tear appeared at the corner of his eye and he sniffed again. “If you can help make her well again, please do. I’ll help if I can.” He looked up at the old man and wiped away the tear. “It won’t be too dangerous, will it?”

The old man smiled kindly.  “Yes, I’m rather afraid it will,” he said. “But won’t it be worth it, if she’s well again?”

Tim nodded sadly and thoughtfully, and went back to fiddling with the water pistol. The old man turned once more to Colin.

          “It seems as if the ball is well and truly in your court.”

Colin stood up and took a few paces away from the table, towards the little kitchenette. He stood with his back to them all, clasped his hands behind his neck, and stretched his elbows backwards once or twice. Then he turned abruptly and faced the table, dropping his hands to his sides.

          “Okay, I think this has got something to do with those three thugs.” He returned to his seat and laced his fingers together, his arms resting on the table.

          “I’ve been remembering some of the things you said. I’ve got a sneaking suspicion we’re going to get involved with some skullduggery concerning this thing they were after. I also have to agree with Zoe. I think you’ve known this ever since we walked in here, possibly even before that. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me now to learn that you knew what would happen here tonight, including the fact that we would arrive.”

          “You are suddenly showing a surprising amount of perspicacity,” said the old man calmly.

Tim leaned closer to Zoe.          “Perspex what?” he whispered.

          “Means he had a heads-up.”

          “Oh.”

          “I’m right, aren’t I?” Colin went on. “And if that’s the case, you must also know how everything will turn out.” He leaned back with a triumphant expression.

          “No, you’re quite wrong about that,” answered the old man. “I can’t tell you how anything will turn out. I didn’t know, for example, if you would actually be able to beat those three bullies.  I only knew what would happen if you did, or if you didn’t. I am limited in what I can see and what I can do. Because of other people’s decisions, as I explained.  I do not know if you will succeed, or if you will fail. I do know that there is a  good chance that you will succeed, but it is not definite by any means. You will be up against some fierce --  opposition. You will need your wits and courage about you all the time. But if you are to have any chance at all, you must decide of your own free wills to try.”

The old man finished this speech with an enquiring look at Colin.

“Alright,” said the young man firmly, with a glance at Tim and Zoe. “If they are willing, then I certainly am. Tell us what it is we have to do, and how to do it.”

From inside his blue robe, the old man now pulled out a circular metal amulet on a cord, which he had been wearing round his neck. He slipped the cord over his head and laid the amulet on the table. It was about six inches in diameter and divided into three irregular sections by metal bars radiating from the centre to the edge. The metal bars and the circular rim all had a rebate and it looked as if the whole thing was designed to take three different segments of some material or other to make the amulet a solid medallion instead of just a metal rim, as it was now. It looked very, very old, and the material was of some rough, dark metal which Colin did not recognise. It looked rather like something a blacksmith might produce as an exercise, or in his spare time. At the top there was a small eyelet, and the cord ran through this.

          The old man handled it carefully, almost reverently. As he placed it on the table he looked at Colin.

          “This has been in my family for generations. Longer than I know of, in fact. Nobody knows how it came into our possession, or even exactly when, but this is what those men were after.”

          Colin reached forward and picked up the amulet, turning it over in his hands.

          “It doesn’t look much.”

The old fortune teller gazed at the amulet.

          “Perhaps not. But many people have died because of it. Many more have suffered terribly.” He looked at the three of them. “At the moment, that amulet is the most important thing in your lives. It  is the secret to your success.”

Colin passed the amulet to Zoe and Tim, who examined it interestedly, then replaced it on the table.

          “I think you’d better explain a bit more. Why is it so important?  This other person sent three thugs to get it. Why does he want it so badly? Is it valuable?”

          “Very valuable, but not in the way you mean. And it isn’t a he. It’s an it.”

Tim looked up at him, puzzled.

          “An it?”

The old man nodded once more, this time wearily.

          “That’s right. Let me explain.” He paused for a moment to marshal his thoughts.

“A very, very long time ago,” he began,  “when this was made, it had three pieces fitted into the centre of it. It was a medallion then, worn by Kings or Queens, and when those three pieces were fitted in place, into those rebates you can see there,  they gave the medallion great power. The possessor of the amulet could do great good with this power, if they were an inherently good person. If, however,  the possessor of the amulet was basically evil-minded, then the amulet would do untold harm and damage. It fell into the hands of a --  -- a creature, who was virtually the embodiment of evil. If possible, this creature would have used the amulet to give itself ultimate evil power, and become quite invincible. But, for some reason that nobody knows, the amulet did not bestow the ultimate invincibility the creature sought. Oh, it had untold powers, and great tragedy and havoc was wreaked everywhere. But that final, devastating, ultimate evil power escaped this vile monster, and in a terrible rage he used those evil powers to tear the amulet apart.”

The old man paused and finished the last drops of whisky in his glass. Colin was watching him intently, half enthralled, half disbelieving. Tim looked at the amulet, lying so peacefully on the table,  and gulped audibly. Zoe wore an expression of cynicism as she regarded the old man, who continued.

          “The three segments of the amulet were flung to the far corners of the earth, and the far reaches of time, and hidden by this creature until it could discover how that final invincible power could be harnessed. So great was its rage when it destroyed the amulet, and so violent was the power it used to disperse the segments that even the creature itself did not know what eventually became of all the pieces. Now, however, the creature must have found the answer it seeks. It must know why the amulet did not provide that final apocalyptic power, and it is trying desperately to regain possession of the three segments so that it can reconstitute the talisman and reap the full potential of its evil power. So far, its efforts to remove this, the basic rim of the medallion from my possession have been nothing more than a minor diversion, because it does not really need the rim until it has all the segments. But the time when it will repossess the segments is drawing very close, and then it will use all its evil power to obtain the rim of the medallion.”  The old man fell silent.

          “Go on,” Colin said. “That’s not all, is it?”

The old man looked round at the three of them and spoke slowly and carefully.

          “No, that’s not quite all. If you want to save the life of that girl, you must find the three segments of the talisman and fit them into the rim before this creature does. If you can do that you will not only save this young boy’s sister, you will save a great many other lives as well. And it will enable you to continue your own lives in a normal fashion. If you fail…….”

He tailed off and shrugged, leaving the words unspoken.

          “Mission impossible, then.” Zoe voice dripped disbelief. How do we complete this mission? How do we fight this creature, or whatever it is?  Where do we find these segments? Do you know where they are?”

Colin joined in the flurry of questions.

          “You must have more information than that!  What is this creature? What do we do for weapons?”

          “Yeah!” Zoe chimed in. She picked up Tim’s water pistol. “What are we supposed to do? Drown it to death?”

“If its power is so great,” Colin continued, “how can the three of us hope to overcome a creature such as you describe?”

The old man held up his hands for quiet.

          “I’ll try and answer your questions,” he said.

The three youngsters fell silent and waited.

          “In the first place,” said the old man, “you do have weapons.” He pointed to the plastic sword and the plastic water pistol. When the time comes, they will help you.” He smiled at Zoe.  “Drowning is not an option.”

Zoe had the grace to blush and looked away.

          “To fight,  you will need great courage, as I’ve already said. But above all, you will need belief. And no. I do not know where the segments are. I can only put you – umm -, on the right road, so to speak. It will be up to you to find them. There will be forces at work to help you, but there will be other forces at work to stop you. That is why I cannot tell you what the end result will be.”

Colin gestured to the two toy weapons.

          “Are you seriously suggesting that these two plastic toys are going to help us?” He stared at the old man, aghast. “What is this creature, anyway?  Is it an animal, or what?”

          “The weapons will help you when you need them,” the old man repeated. “And no, it isn’t an animal. Not as you mean it, anyway.”

          “It’s a what, then,” Zoe murmured softly.

          “It is an entity that exists in the worst nightmares of children and adults or in the raving delirium of a madman.”

          “Definitely a what, then.”

The old man regarded Colin with great seriousness. “But you will meet it, and you will either destroy it, or it will destroy you. All of you.”

There was a palpable tension in the tent. Colin realised he had been holding his breath and released it with a sigh. He looked round at the others. The old man’s face was grave, Zoe looked doubtful, and Tim just stared at the old man with wide eyes.

          “Should I start to worry?” he asked.

          “Yes! What about young Tim, here,” asked Colin. “This sounds like the sort of thing he shouldn’t even hear about, let alone get involved in.”

          “He is important,” answered the old man.  “It is his sister. You are all important. All three of you must go if you are to have even the slightest chance of success.

          “Go?” Zoe queried. “Go where?”

          “You will have to make a journey,” said the old man. “It will be long.  And difficult. You will have many – um – adventures, and, I pray, you will find the three segments of the talisman on the way. Each segment is made of a different material so you must be careful that you do not miss one. As you find each segment, if you do, fit it into the rim. Each time you do, it will slightly lessen the evil power that you will be fighting. Because all three of you are inherently good, inside. When you have fitted all three segments in place, and the talisman is whole, it will destroy the monstrous creature, and its evil power will perish with it. There is one other thing you must beware of.”

Zoe cut in with a sarcastic edge to her voice.

          “One other thing? Oh, what’s one other danger between friends!”

The old man ignored the comment, looked all round the table and said, “You must beware of yourselves.” He pointed at Zoe. “You will be the one. The one that is most dangerous to the others.”

For once, Zoe’s voice was low and devoid of any sarcasm as she seemed to shrink under the old man’s stern gaze.

“Me? Thanks. What have I done?”

“It is not what you have done. It is what you may do.” The old man regarded her steadily.

“You still didn’t answer my question,” Zoe reminded him in a stronger voice. “Where, exactly, are we going?”

The old fortune teller pointed to the huge crystal ball.

“In there,” he said.

 

3: Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

 

          “That’s trippy,”  Zoe muttered very quietly.

Then there was utter silence in the marquee at the old man’s words. The three youngsters stared at the crystal ball. Tim was the first to find his voice.

          “In there? We’re going in there?” He gave a little shudder. “I knew I should have started worrying.” He gulped. “How will we get out?”

          “Yes, that’s a good point. How will we get out?” Colin enquired.

          “Yeah! Going to be a bit cramped with three of  us……” Zoe remarked.

          “You will get out with no trouble – if you get that far.” The old man’s words rang ominously in their ears. “But time is running out,” he went on. “If you are going to try, you must go now, otherwise it will be too late. Tell me, each of you. Will you try? Will you place yourselves in danger to try and save that young girl. And also to help me?” he added.

          “If we get that far…..” Colin repeated softly. “And if we don’t? Will we just vanish, or what?”

          “Or be trapped, stuck in that thing?” Zoe mused.

          “Okay. Now I’m worried!” Tim gulped again.

          “Come, come!” The old man sounded impatient. “It won’t do any good or help anyone if you start with that attitude! I told you that you must believe in yourselves. Now, I ask again. Will you try to complete the talisman before it is too late?”

Tim and Zoe looked at Colin, waiting for him to answer, but before he could say anything a gentle vibration and a muted sound from his pocket told him that his phone was demanding attention. He extracted it and stared at the screen.

          “Text,” he said succinctly.

          “From the hospital?” Tim asked hopefully, and Colin nodded.

          “No change,” he said quietly, and replaced the phone in his pocket.

Tim’s face fell visibly. Zoe put a comforting hand on his arm.

          “Better than no improvement,” she murmured.

Tim stared at the table miserably.

“It’s the same thing,” he said, showing a flash of unexpectedly mature reasoning.

The old fortune teller coughed gently and nodded towards Colin’s pocket.

          “I should mention,” he said softly, “that where you’re going, that won’t work.”

Colin looked at him in surprise, but Zoe pulled out her own phone, looked at it, then up at the old man, her mouth open with an expression of horror on her face.

          “Won’t?… Work?” she said slowly. “For real?” She cast an anguished look at Colin.

“What about my friends? How will they……? What about my Candy-Crush? My music?” She stared at the old man again.

          “If things going according to plan, -  if they go as they should,  - as I hope they will, I doubt you will have time to listen to any music,” he replied drily.

Zoe slumped in her chair and fiddled with the phone.

          “Oh, that’s pants!” she muttered.

          “Where you are going is not a  –  digital area,” the old man explained. “It is more  -- how do young people describe it nowadays….. ah!  Yes,  retro, is the word, I think.”

He turned to Colin. “Now, what do you say?”

Colin took a deep breath.

           “Yes,” he said.

The old man turned to Tim, “And you, young man?”

Tim nodded. “Yes,” he said. “I want to try.”

All eyes turned to Zoe.

          “Retro,” she repeated with a slight shudder. “Okay, count me in,”  she said, finally putting her phone away.

The old man breathed a sigh of relief.

          “Thank you, all,” he said fervently. “Now, hand me the sword and the pistol.”

Tim passed him the water pistol and reached down beside the chair for the plastic sword. As the old man’s hands touched the toy gun it seemed to shimmer slightly and became blurred for a few seconds. Then it glowed with an orange coloured light before reverting to a cheap plastic toy again. Tim eyed the old man nervously, and slid the sword across the table to him. Again the old man touched the toy, and it too shimmered and glowed, and then became just brown and yellow plastic again. Colin, Tim and Zoe exchanged open mouthed glances. The old man pushed the toys nearer to Tim.

          “Take them,” he said.

Tim did so, testing them first with his fingertips before picking them up.

          “Look after them,” the old man admonished him, and then, to Colin, “Put the amulet round your neck.” He watched as Colin slipped the cord over his head and tucked the medallion inside his shirt.

          “Everything is ready,” the old man pronounced. “Are you?”

Each of the three nodded solemnly. The old man took a deep breath.

          “Then I wish you Godspeed.  I pray that you will be successful.”

He moved the crystal ball to the centre of the table, and again placed his palms down on the top of the globe. As he slid his hands slowly and gently down the glass the rainbow began to form, exactly as before. Below the edges of his palms the glass sphere remained an opaque white, but the further he moved his hands down the curve of the globe, the more of it was filled with the coruscating rainbow. His hands reached the bottom of the glass but instead of remaining still, this time they continued until they were resting on the shaped black plinth beneath the globe. The whole sphere was now filled with vertical bands of  colour, whirling rapidly round the inside of the glass.

          The old man looked round at the three youngsters, nodded as if satisfied, and then began to move his hands away from the plinth. When there was about an inch separating his hands from the plinth he slowly reversed his original movement, now sliding his hands slowly upwards, following the shape of the glass but keeping his hands about an inch away from it. His hands reached the top of the globe, once again almost palms down, and with his thumbs nearly touching he continued the movement above the sphere, opening his arms gradually as if he was tracing the outline of a gigantic hour glass in the air, from bottom to top.

          The three youngsters’ eyes followed his movement, spellbound, none of them saying a word. Tim glanced at Colin and gulped again. The old man relaxed his hands and all four of them sat watching the globe.

          From the centre of the top, about six inches in diameter, the vertical rainbow began to appear, seeming to pass through the top of the glass and grow up into the air. Further and further it extruded from the globe, the tip of it beginning to expand outwards, following the path traced in the air by the old fortune teller’s hands. The top, as it spread outward, forming an umbrella shape,  was now about three feet above the table.

          The old man, satisfied that everything was proceeding as it should,  rose from his chair and stepped back two or three paces, facing Colin. The top of the rainbow continued to expand outwards as the rainbow itself grew higher. Colin found himself arching his neck back as the rainbow seemed to mushroom over his head and he tried to watch the progress of its leading edges.

          The umbrella part of the rainbow was now large enough to completely cover more than the table area. It appeared to halt there for a few moments, forming a beautifully coloured, shimmering umbrella over the table, chairs and the three young people.

          Zoe cautiously extended a hand and passed it briefly through the rainbow. Her hand remained visible, passing through the bands of colour as if they were water. She examined her hand, but there was no effect as far as she could see.

          The rainbow now towered a good four feet above their heads, its central stem as thick as the globe was wide. The edges of the umbrella began to curve downwards, the rainbow still growing on itself and now beginning to pass down behind Colin, Zoe and Tim. They turned to look behind them. The tent assumed a fuzzy, shimmery look as they tried to see through the rainbow. Colin looked round again towards the old man. He looked ghostly, standing there against the wall of the tent, his outline wavering as if seen through a heat haze.

          The old man was watching them through the rainbow and he raised one hand, palm out, in a lonely gesture of farewell. As he did so, the colours of the rainbow became stronger and more positive. Colin could no longer see the old fortune teller or the marquee walls. The three of them were enclosed in a giant mushroom of colour.

Tim looked nervously at Zoe.

          “It’s okay, young Tim. Rainbows don’t hurt people.”

The remark did nothing to put Tim’s mind at rest. He continued to look round at the rainbow enclosing them, and at Colin and Zoe.

          Suddenly, from the top of the globe there was a fountain of golden flecks, erupting from the crystal ball and travelling upwards within the bands of colour. The flecks followed the umbrella shape of the rainbow, filling the colours with a glittering golden light.

          From the wall of the marquee, the old man watched the rainbow encircling the table. His hand fell slowly to his side and he closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

          As if this was a signal, the rainbow suddenly moved, travelling back along itself, upwards from the floor, arcing over the top of the mushroom shape and back down towards the top of the glass globe. There was the sound of rushing air and the rainbow disappeared back into the top of the crystal ball. Now there was complete silence.

The chairs were all empty. The three young people had disappeared  completely, along with the two plastic toys. The crystal ball in the centre of the table was once again an opaque white.

          The old man opened his eyes, looked round the tent with a weary expression, then moved to the chair he had used before. Slowly, he sat down, resting his arms on the table, his hands clasped, staring across the table into space.

                   *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *       

Tim landed on his bottom with a bump. He sat for a moment, trying to collect his wits. There was a sound of rushing air, and Colin and Zoe landed near him, on their feet but staggering slightly to keep their balance. They were all still inside the rainbow which was now vertical, all around them. The rushing air noise grew louder and suddenly the end of the rainbow appeared, travelling downwards very fast, past their heads, shoulders, legs,  until it disappeared into the ground.

          There was a complete silence.  Colin leaned down and offered a hand to Tim, who stood up and rubbed his bottom ruefully.

          “Don’t think much of the travel arrangements,” he muttered.

          “Beats taking the bus,” Zoe commented, looking all around.

          “Colourful, to say the least,” Colin said.

They looked round. They were standing on rough, artificial looking grass. There was no variation in shade anywhere, and the grass seemed to be an unnaturally bright green. As far as the eye could see there were rolling hills, undulating towards the horizon. There was not a tree, a bush or a building to be seen There were no birds or flowers and not a breath of wind disturbed the utter quiet.

          “What’s this?” Tim’s puzzled voice broke the silence.

He was holding his hands out in front of him, trying to brush something off them. Colin and Zoe turned to see what he had found.

          Tim’s hands were covered with the tiny glittering gold specks. He rubbed his hands together vigorously and a little cascade of gold dropped to the ground. Colin and Zoe examined their hands and clothes. They too were covered in the gold flecks. They brushed themselves down and the gold flecks floated gently down to the grass.

          “Hey! Look at this!” Zoe’s voice was full of awe as she pointed down.

At their feet was a shimmering pool of gold on the grass. As they watched, it became fainter and fainter, and eventually disappeared altogether. Colin stared round.

          “Well, we appear to have arrived,” he said.

          “Yeah, but where?” Zoe gestured towards the horizon. “There’s nothing here at all.”

Tim’s voice broke the short silence that followed her comment.

          “Yes, there is. Over there!”

The young boy pointed to a spot in the grass about forty feet away. Something small and white was just visible in the grass. The three walked towards it, and as they drew nearer it became clear that a small milestone was buried in the hillside. They walked all round it, then stopped and regarded it.

          “That’s useful,” Tim commented.

          “Huh! Be more useful if it said something!”  Zoe observed.

The face of the milestone was wrinkled and weatherbeaten, but otherwise completely clear. There were no words, or symbols, or anything else carved  onto its surface. Tim looked past it and pointed again.

          “There’s something else.  There.”

Zoe and Colin looked to where he was pointing., and saw the end of a dusty grey path, beginning about twenty feet away from the milestone. The path seemed to begin, or end, quite suddenly, as there was a distinct line between it and the grass. The path was quite flat, and about six feet wide.

          “That’s crazy! Why should a path end in the middle of nowhere like that?” Tim put his hands on his hips and stared at the path.

They regarded the path for a few seconds.

          “Perhaps it doesn’t end there,” said Zoe thoughtfully.

          “Huh?”

          “Perhaps it begins there.”

Colin moved towards the path and his two companions followed.

          “I think you’re right,” Colin said. “And do you know what else I think?”

          “That we should follow it?” queried Zoe.

          “Exactly. There’s obviously nothing else here, so we might as well go this way as any other. The fact that there’s a path seems encouraging.”

          “Nothing else does,” said Zoe morosely. She looked around. “I’m wondering what we’ve got ourselves into.”

“Well,  come on,” Colin suggested. “We can’t stand here all day. At least let’s go and explore a bit.”

The other two nodded their agreement.

          “But listen, young Tim. We keep together, right? I don’t want you running off somewhere out of our sight. Either Zoe or I must know where you are all the time. Is that clear? We have no idea where we are or what might happen.”

Tim drew himself up and spoke disdainfully.

          “I’m quite capable of looking after myself !  There’s no need to worry!”

          “No arguments,” Colin said firmly. “I’ll tell you when to worry.”

They moved off towards the path and began walking along, side by side. The path continued straight for about three hundred yards, then began to  wind gently to the right and climb as it followed the side of a hill. It soon became steep enough to hide the horizon as it rose up one of the bigger hills.

Tim glanced down at the path.

          “This reminds me of a film I saw,” he said, “but I can’t remember - ”

          “The Wizard of Oz,” Colin told him.

          “Yes! That’s it!” Tim agreed excitedly. “It’s like we’re following the yellow brick road.”

          “ ‘Cept it ain’t  brick and it ain’t  yellow,” Zoe pointed out.

As they continued to follow the path up the side of the hill, she began to sing the first line of the song, Somewhere Over The Rainbow. They climbed to the top where the hill flattened out, revealing the ground ahead. All three of them stopped dead in their tracks and Zoe stopped singing abruptly.

          “Oh, my God!” Colin stared ahead in horror.

          “Let’s go back!” wailed Tim.

Ahead of them there was nothing but thin air. They were standing near the edge of a huge cliff which dropped away in front of them, sheer for three hundred feet until it reached a valley below. On either side of the valley, purple cliffs rose, stretching away on each side to the horizon. The valley floor was covered in a huge forest;-  dark green, dank, thick and sinister looking.

          “It’s green but it ain’t no Emerald City!” Zoe breathed.

The dusty path led, at an angle,  to the very edge of the cliff and then dropped steeply down the side of it, still as wide as ever, but with no guard rail, wall, or anything else to protect travellers. At intervals down the path rocks and boulders lay strewn about,  sometimes almost blocking the path completely. At one point, a small section of the path had dropped away in some past upheaval, leaving a gap about five feet wide which would either have to be jumped or climbed past. It all looked extremely hazardous and dangerous, slippery and unsafe, and the forest at the bottom looked highly uninviting. There was the faint reflection of water as a small river, dark, sluggish and slimy looking, meandered along the cliff bottom and disappeared into the forest.

The three young people looked at one another with horrified expressions.

          “We can’t go down there! We’ll kill ourselves!” Zoe stared at the valley below.

Colin was examining the path down the cliff face.

          “I agree. It would be almost certain death,” he said.

Tim looked up at Colin.

          “Can I worry now?” he asked plaintively.

          “No, no, Tim. There’s nothing to worry about.” Colin dropped one hand to the boy’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “We’re not going down there. We’ll go back along the path and try another direction.”

There was the sound of a strangled gasp from Zoe, and then:-

          “Oh, crap!  Look!” She pointed back along the path.

There, twenty feet away, the path ended abruptly, and nestling in the grass as if it had been there for years was the little white milestone.

Colin ran his fingers through his hair, staring at the path, then looked at Zoe.

          “This is absolutely mad! We’ve just walked up that hill and the path was there then! The damn thing’s following us!”

Zoe had recovered somewhat from her initial shock and she put a hand on Colin’s arm.

          “No, no! Don’t you see? The path isn’t following us. We’re following the path. This must be the way we’re meant to go.”

          “What! Down there!” Colin jerked his head in the direction of the cliff. “ You must be joking!”

Zoe shrugged and looked around.

          “What alternative is there? If we go back, we could walk forever across these hills. We’ve no compass, nothing to guide us. We’d be hopelessly lost.” She glanced at the cliff path again. “And anyway, the old man did say it would be dangerous. It might have been a walk in the park so far, but now it isn’t.”

          “But what about Tim?” Colin objected. “Look at that gap! How are we going to get across it, never mind him!”

          “It could be time for one of those decisions the old man was on about,” Zoe suggested.

All three fell silent. Tim looked from Colin to Zoe and back again. Finally, Colin spoke with great reluctance.

          “Oh, alright. I suppose you’re right. But, God, I don’t fancy it!” He put an arm round Tim’s shoulder. “We have to try it, old son. Are you game?”

Tim looked at the path, closed his eyes and gulped. He nodded.

          “Can I worry now?”

Colin assumed a confidence he did not feel. “Come on, then. Let’s give it a try.”

They stood for a moment on the cliff edge, looking down at the forest far below them. Over on the right, the tops of the trees suddenly began to shake and bend in a violent motion. The disturbance gradually moved  to the left, heading more towards the centre of the forest. Whatever was causing it, it was extremely violent. And large. And loud, because suddenly, from the depths of that dark, dank greenery, came the most deafening and blood-curdling roar. It echoed round and round off the cliffs, eventually dying away to nothing. There was a short silence as the three youngsters gazed down in horror, then another slightly quieter but still blood-curdling roar sounded again.

            “It also,” Zoe said firmly, “ain’t the Sound Of  Music, either.”

4: Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

 

The three of them took each other’s hands as they started down  the path. The dust and loose pebbles made the going treacherous and their feet slipped now and then as they made their way cautiously down the sloping path. Tim was struggling more than the others as he was carrying the sword and the water pistol.

          “Just a minute. Give me that.”

Colin took the sword and stuffed between his belt and his trousers.

          “That should help you a bit. Put that pistol thing in your pocket.”

Tim did so, the plastic butt sticking out somewhat, but leaving his hands free. Colin looked at him.

          “You okay?”

Tim nodded, and the three of them continued their perilous descent. The path had become a good deal narrower and they were having to proceed in single file, their backs pressed up against the cliff face to give them a sense of security. They continued in this way for some minutes, then Colin, who was in the lead, stopped.

          “Now what?” Zoe called from the rear.

Colin gestured in front of him. A huge boulder, the size of a car, had fallen across the path and wedged firmly, leaving a tiny ledge about six inches wide around its outer edge. The remainder of the path was completely buried.

Zoe groaned and looked behind her, back up the cliff path. Sure enough, the milestone and the end of the path was twenty feet behind her. Above them, where there had been a slippery path, was now sheer cliff.

“Oh, God! We have to try! There’s no point in going back!” Colin took a deep breath.

“There’s nowhere to go back!” Zoe moaned.

“Tim, you stay put,” Colin told him. “I’ll go first.”

He looked at the top of the boulder but it was far too high to reach, even for him, and the sides of the boulder were smooth and rounded, and offered no hand or foothold. The only way round it was the little ledge of the path.

Colin sighed and started forward carefully, sliding one arm round the edge of the boulder and feeling for a purchase with his toes on the ledge of rock. He pressed his chest and stomach tightly against the boulder as he inched his way round. Zoe and Tim watched, holding their breath as Colin negotiated his way round the huge rock.

Colin stretched his arm a little further and his fingers felt a slight knob of rock protruding from the boulder. His fingertips closed upon it and he shuffled his feet sideways along the ledge.

          Suddenly he felt his right foot go as the edge of the path crumbled under his weight. His body dropped as his foot dangled in mid-air. His fingers on the protrusion of rock  and the toes of his left foot were all that were keeping him from a two hundred and fifty foot fall. His foot scrabbled for a hold on the ledge as the sweat broke out on his face. Gasping in shock, he found a purchase for his right foot, taking the intolerable strain off his fingers. He rested for a moment, letting his breathing get back to normal.

          Tim and Zoe released their breath, their eyes wide as Colin scrambled and slid the last few feet round the boulder and out of their sight.

          “Made it!” shouted Colin. “Now, Tim, you come next. Stretch your left arm out towards me. Zoe, you hold his right arm.”

Tim cautiously slid onto the ledge, his face turned towards the invisible Colin. His left arm extended across the face of the boulder, he began to slide sideways round it, inch by inch.

Zoe braced her feet as best she could on the unstable surface and gripped Tim’s right wrist as the young boy slid slowly further round the huge boulder. Colin’s arm was also stretched out as far as he could manage it:- searching for Tim’s  outstretched fingers as the boy inched himself nearer. Colin felt something brush his hand, and then Tim’s small fingers were gripping his and Colin was pulling the boy  the last few feet to safety on the path. Tim staggered back against the cliff face, gasping for breath. Colin flexed his arm and called to Zoe.

          “Okay, Sis! Your turn. Take it carefully!”

Zoe took a deep breath and slid onto the ledge. Once again Colin stretched out his arm as far as he could round the face of the boulder, waiting until Zoe was within reach and he could help his sister to safety. When she had joined them safely on the path Colin used one hand to wipe his face and the back of his neck.

          “Phew!  I’m mighty glad that’s over! I hope we don’t get too many of those!” He looked at the others. “Are you ready to go on?”

They nodded and Colin set off leading the way again, still slowly and carefully on the gradient of the path, but breathing a little easier now that the path was wider again. Some distance ahead, he could see the gap that they had noticed from the cliff top, where the path had fallen away into the forest below.

Zoe, at the rear once again, glanced back up the path, then down at the valley floor, still  two hundred feet below them.

          “Y’know what?” she murmured, half to herself and half to the others, “I don’t believe I’m  actually doing this.”

The words were hardly out of her mouth before there was a deafening crack, followed by an ominous rumble. A shower of small stones and pebbles rained down on the path from above. Zoe and the others turned in towards the cliff, pressing themselves up against it, shielding their heads with their arms. Colin glanced up towards the top of the cliff.

          A huge chunk of rock, the size of a table, teetered on the edge of the cliff. Ponderously, it leaned outwards, past the point of balance and crashed down the cliff face, splintering into smaller lumps as it rebounded off the projections of the cliff on the way down. The young travellers huddled down, trying to protect themselves from the debris. There was another rumble, and the ground shook. Colin shouted above the noise.

          “Christ!  It’s a bloody earthquake!   Try and hold on!”

He reached out and grabbed Tim’s arm firmly, shielding his head with his other arm. As he did so, he glanced at the path and his eyes widened in shock.

          “The path’s collapsing!”

The others turned to look, each managing to glance quickly before ducking to avoid another onslaught of falling rock and dust.

          Large cracks were appearing in the boulder they had just traversed and on the path below it. The boulder and ten feet of path slipped slightly, then stopped. There was another rumble and another fall of rocks, debris and dust across the path. Suddenly, the boulder and a section of the path slid completely away from the cliff, plummeting down towards the river below. A huge plume of muddy spray shot into the air as the tons of rubble fell into the river. The ground shook again, more violently, accompanied by another deep rumble.

          As the ground beneath them shook, Zoe lost her footing and rolled over. Helplessly she started to slide down the path, scrabbling at the dusty surface as she tried to halt her progress. Colin grabbed at her with his free hand as she slid past, but he missed, and Zoe continued to slide on her stomach, feet first, following the gradient of  the path inexorably towards the gap.

          Colin pulled Tim to his feet and started down the slope after Zoe, keeping as tight as he could to the cliff face and still having to avoid falling rocks and boulders. Another fierce onslaught of rubble missed Zoe’s head by inches and forced Colin to stop as it was between him and his sister.

          Zoe felt the ground disappear from under her toes, then her legs and knees, and she realised in a frozen moment of terror that she was actually sliding over the edge of the gap in the path. In her mind’s eye, in that frozen split-second, she could see her body flailing wildly as she grabbed for something to stop her deadly fall, and finding nothing, saw her body slide over the edge of the path and hurtle downwards towards the forest far beneath, arms and legs cartwheeling as she fell like some raggedy matchstick man to her death, two hundred feet below.

All this she saw in that frozen moment of time, but already she could feel the sharp edge of the gap in the path cutting into her stomach as she slid further towards her death.

She became aware of Tim shouting.

          “It’s what she said! It’s what she said! She doesn’t believe it, she said! Tell her she must believe!”

Colin glanced through the falling debris at Zoe, just discernible through the dust and rock.

          “ZOE !” he roared. “ZOE! You must believe in it!  ZOE! Do you hear me!  BELIEVE!”

Zoe heard the words through the thunder of falling rock and the cracking of the cliff face. Her hands scrabbled and clawed at the path as she felt her body slide past the point of balance at the edge of the gap and start to fall into the abyss below.

          “Yes!” she gabbled furiously. “Yes, I believe! It’s all true! I believe! I’m here! It’s real! I believe it!”

She saw the different strata of the rocks just inches away from her eyes as the last few feet of her body slid over the edge. Her fingertips gripped the edge of the path and her arms nearly wrenched from their sockets as they took the sudden full weight of her body. She stopped there, swinging by her fingertips, suspended over the drop.

          Above her, the ground stopped shaking and the rock fall subsided. The rumbles died away and slowly the dust began to settle as everything fell quiet once again. The sweat on Zoe’s face began to run down into her eyes, making her blink and shake her head.

          “Colin!  Tim!  Are you there? Can you hear me?”

Two faces appeared above her, looking down as the two boys peered over the edge of the path.

          “A hand here, guys?”

          Yes, we’re here. We’re okay. We’ll get you up.”

Colin sat down on the path, his legs on either side of Zoe’s hands. He found a small projection of rock on the cliff face and braced his foot against it, stamping once or twice to make sure  it wouldn’t give way.

          “Tim, get behind me, and when I tell you, grab my shoulders and help to pull me upright.”

Tim moved to do Colin’s bidding, glancing nervously at Zoe’s fingers which were becoming white with the strain of supporting her weight. Zoe glanced down at the valley floor, so far below, and screwed her eyes tightly shut. The sweat was pouring down her face and neck.

          “On the double, Colin,” she whispered. “I can’t hold on much longer.”

          “Okay,” Colin said soothingly. “We’re going for it now. Are you ready?”

He leaned forward and carefully grabbed Zoe’s wrists, making sure that he had a good grip, and glad of the time he had spent keeping his body fit and limber enough to be able to lean forward almost double. He took two deep breaths and shouted.

          “NOW!”

Zoe released her grip on the path edge and curled her fingers round Colin’s wrists. Colin grunted as he took Zoe’s full weight, pulling his already doubled up body even further down. He felt Tim’s hands on his shoulders and as he strained to sit upright he could feel  Tim pulling him from behind. Slowly, their combined force brought Colin to a sitting position, drawing Zoe up past the edge of the path where she could swing one knee up, then the other, and scramble back to safety.

The three of them collapsed against the cliff, sitting on the path. Colin closed his eyes wearily.

          “Zoe, don’t ever, ever, say that again. Don’t even think it!”

Zoe massaged her fingers and arms and leant back tiredly. Tim got up and wandered away, back up the cliff path whilst the other two recovered their strength.

          “Hey!  Colin!  Zoe!  Look at this!”

The others opened their eyes tiredly and turned to where Tim was waving his arms frantically.

          “Now what !” muttered Colin, struggling to his feet.

          “We’re stuck ! There’s no path anymore !”

Tim had run back towards them a little way, and Colin stared past him at the path they had so recently negotiated.

          The huge boulder and a good section of the cliff had disappeared into the river below, leaving the three of them marooned on a small section of  path about thirty feet long.

          “Oh, crap again !”

Zoe had come up behind them, and her muttered imprecation brought Colin back to earth.

          “Now we’re in real trouble !” he said seriously.

          “Oh, it’s all been plain sailing up to now !” Zoe interjected sarcastically.

          “Look !” Tim pointed back at the end of the path. There, once again, was the little white milestone, embedded in the path and partly in the cliff.

          “That means – we must continue…..that way !” Tim spun round and pointed to the gap where Zoe had nearly come to grief.

“Now can I start worrying !” he added.

          “Tim, I think you’d better start.”

Colin sighed, and the three travellers moved down the path towards the five foot gap.

          “There’s no way we can climb round it,” mused Colin. “Look at the cliff there. It’s as smooth as glass.” He looked at Zoe, then Tim. “We’ll have to jump it.  I’ll go first.  Tim, you follow, then Zoe. Tim, do you think you can make it?”

Tim studied the gap in front of them.

          “I think so. If I take a long run at it. But don’t worry. I’m still worrying !”

Colin ruffled his hair with a little chuckle.

          “Good boy. Take a good run at it, - the whole length would probably be best.” He gestured to the area of path they were all trapped on. “Think of it as a long jump at school. I’ll be on the other side waiting to catch you.”

Colin took several paces backwards, then ran and leapt forward across the gap in the path. He landed on the other side with feet to spare and turned to face Tim.

          “Okay, Tim. Just like a long jump, okay?”

Tim walked back up the path then turned and sprinted towards the gap. He cleared it without trouble, half falling into Colin’s arms on the other side. Zoe followed, and Colin breathed a sigh of relief that they were all safely across. The three of them exchanged smiles and turned to continue their journey down the cliff path. They had only taken a dozen steps when there was another loud crack and a rumble from behind them. They turned sharply.

          The thirty foot section of path they had been marooned on had split away from the cliff and as they watched it plummeted down towards the river.

Colin pointed to the end of the path a few feet away. The milestone was there, the usual twenty feet behind them, despite the fact that a good deal of the cliff and the path had vanished forever.

          “That doesn’t seem to leave any room for doubt,” Colin observed. “There’s no chance of turning back now.”

          “Was there ever?” Zoe snorted.

          Colin shook his head, and the three turned once again to continue down the path.

          “At least there don’t seem to be any more major obstacles between here and the bottom,” Colin commented as they walked along, now able to continue three abreast again.

          “You never know with this place!” Tim said darkly.

          “Yeah! Go ahead and tempt providence!” Zoe added. She nodded in the direction of the enormous forest, still below them, but now becoming more distinct as the gradient of the path brought them lower and lower down the cliff face.

          “What the hell will we find in there,  I wonder?” she murmured.

Colin shrugged. “Maybe the path doesn’t go that way.”

          “Would you put money on it?”

          “No.”

          “Colin, can I stop worrying now?”

They all managed to laugh at Tim’s deadpan suggestion. But another tremendous roar from the depths of the forest cut short their amusement. They turned sharply to look down, falling silent instantly as the noise echoed back from the cliffs around the forest.

          “Look!” Tim whispered the exclamation as he pointed to an area deep in the centre of the forest. The tops of seven or eight trees there were again waving about and bending, quite violently. There was another fearsome roar from that direction. The three youngsters looked at one another.

          “What the hell was that?” Colin scanned the forest again.

          “Is. Not was. Still there.” Zoe’s response was terse.

Yet another roar echoed from deep within the forest, long and drawn out.

          “This just gets worse and worse!” Colin muttered.

His words were almost drowned out by a further roar. Tim shaded his eyes and looked at the group of trees that were being disturbed.

          “There’s something happening over there.”

          “Yeah! We’d heard something to that effect!” Zoe snorted.

She and Colin followed Tim’s gaze. The trees were still waving to and fro, as if disturbed by something monstrous underneath them. There was the sound of splintering wood and one of the trees started to topple majestically. Its fall was stopped momentarily by another tree, there was another crack, a further short roar, then both trees, together with two more, fell suddenly into the forest, sending up clouds of dust and debris and several birds which screeched and squawked loudly as they flew away. The noise echoed round the cliffs, then died away into utter silence.

Colin, Tim and Zoe stared at one another for several long moments in the silence. Finally, Zoe sighed.

          “We have to continue down the path to the bottom, then follow it wherever it goes. We have no choice, do we? If it goes in there -- ” she pointed to the forest, “ – then we have to go too.”

Colin nodded slowly, obviously worried by the noises and what they might find if they had to go into that dark and uninviting forest. They continued down the path slowly, casting apprehensive glances now and then at the forest, but it remained quiet.

          “Have to say, I do hope there’s another way to go than into the middle of that lot,” Colin said.

They continued in silence until they reached the bottom of the cliff. The path leveled out quickly and curved to the left, away from the cliff edge. The curve became a corner and they stopped as they saw that the path led straight to the bank of the turgid looking river.

          “Oh, no!”  Colin groaned as he saw what lay ahead.

          “Oh, come on !” Zoe snorted contemptuously. “Don’t tell me you guys seriously expected anything else!”

The path stopped at the river bank, but continued on the other side, leading as straight as an arrow into the forest for about a hundred yards, before bending out of sight behind a clump of bushes. Embedded in the ten foot wide river were several large rocks  forming a series of stepping stones which could be used to cross the water. It looked quite revolting: slimy and slow moving, both banks choked with muddy reeds and weeds. The bushes were quite thick on both banks, leading right up to the water’s edge and allowing for no passage in any direction: -- except the path.

          “I just knew it!” Colin shook his head in resignation, then turned to look behind them. “And I guessed that would happen, too!”

Tim and Zoe turned, and at the base of the cliff was the milestone. The path leading up the face of the cliff had completely disappeared.

          “Well, that answers the question,” Tim observed.

          “Yes,  I’m very much afraid it does,” agreed Colin.

Tim peered forward across the river.

          “It’s awfully dark in there. We shan’t be able to se a thing,” he pointed out.

          “That may be just as well,” Colin answered drily. He looked up at the sky. “It must be getting dark soon. What time is it, anyway?”

He and Zoe both consulted their watches.

          “That’s all we need. My watch has stopped. It still says half past eight.”

          “So does mine,” Zoe said. “That’s creepy.”

Tim sighed, an exaggerated sound full of frustration.

          “Don’t worry! I’ll tell you what the time is.” He held his arm out with a flourish, looked at his watch, and promptly hid his hand behind his back.

          “Well?” asked Colin.

          “Do tell!” added Zoe sweetly.

          “Must be something wrong with it,” Tim mumbled.

Zoe snapped her fingers.

          “No, I’ve got it! Our watches haven’t stopped at all.” She looked at the others carefully. “It still is eight thirty! For us, time has stopped!”

Colin looked at her dubiously. Tim put his watch to his ear, then tapped the glass face of it.

          “That seems a bit unbelievable,” Colin said.

There was another terrible, long, angry roar from the forest in front of them.

          “On the other hand,” Colin went on hurriedly, “I’m quite prepared to believe anything in this place!”

The roar died away.

          “But I think we’ve got more important things to think about,” Colin continued. He gestured across the river. “Are we going, or are we going to stop here?”

          “Stopping is not an option,” Zoe said firmly.

          “Sis, could you stop doing that?” Colin murmured.

          “Stop doing what?”

          “Quoting American military phrases. It’s -- ”

          “Worrying!” Tim interjected quickly.

          “Disconcerting,” Colin finished.

          “But accurate,” Zoe said. “We can’t just stop here.”

They looked all round at the bushes and foliage that surrounded the path and the river.

          “Alright,” Colin agreed reluctantly. “There’s obviously no other way to go. Same as before. I’ll go first, then Tim, then you, Zoe.”

He moved forward onto the first of the stepping stones, choosing his way with care and testing the stone firmly to make sure it wouldn’t sink under his weight, or produce some other unexpected danger.

          “It doesn’t seem too bad,” he called back. “Come on, Tim.”

The young boy followed gingerly, his tongue protruding slightly from his lips as he concentrated on keeping his footing on the uneven and slippery rocks and stones. Zoe followed, and all three crossed the river without mishap.

          “Good!” Colin said. “You okay, Tim?”

          “Sure!” said the boy proudly. “Nothing to it! I told you I’d stopped worrying. I’ll ask when I have to start again!”

Colin snorted and turned to face the path.

          “Okay, then. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I suppose we might as well push on.”

They started forward. The going was relatively easy at first, but soon the path became overhung with twisted and gnarled branches, forcing them to duck and twist as they walked along. Tree roots stuck up here and there ready to trip the unwary, and vines and lianas hung from the trees, just waiting, it seemed,  to wrap themselves round the travellers’ arms and necks. It became much darker, as the forest was thick enough to prevent all but a very little light from shining through the dense foliage above.

          “Col, I’ve been thinking,” Zoe said after a while. “I suppose all this is leading somewhere? I mean, -- this forest is enormous. How are we supposed to carry out the old man’s request?  We could walk for miles and still be no nearer finding the bits of the amulet. And how the hell will we know them if we find them?”

          “I’ve absolutely no idea, Zoe. I suppose we shall just have to trust to,  er – destiny. After all,  things have been laid out for us pretty well up to now. We’ve had this path, which has only let us go one way. We must be heading in the right direction. I could have done without all that business on the cliff, though.”

          “Sorry,” said Zoe contritely. “That was all my fault. But I never thought anything like that would happen, just because I said --- ”

Colin and Tim both shouted together.

          “Shut up, Zoe!”

They continued for some time in silence, still having to struggle through the creeping branches and vines. The path twisted and turned for no apparent reason, unless it was because the bushes and undergrowth were thinner there than anywhere else. At one point there was a loud crashing noise on their right. Something large and unseen grunted and snorted, and they could hear the sounds of its hurried departure through the undergrowth.

          “I keep thinking of Anita,” Colin said after a while. “It seems incredible that we are here, wherever here is, and she is miles away, and all we have are some cryptic words from an old man, and a lot of faith, and we hope to save her life.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, looked at it and replaced it.

          “And no way of getting any updates on her condition. That’s upsetting. What else will we have to do, where else will we have to go to succeed? And what if we don’t?”

Tim slipped a small hand into Colin’s larger one.

          “Don’t think like that, Col. We’ll succeed. I’m sure we will. After all, I’ve still got my sword and my pistol.”

          The older  youth snorted disparagingly.

          “Huh! Plastic toys! Fat lot of good they’ll be!”

          “Well, don’t worry,” said Tim encouragingly. “That’s my job. You’ll get us through.” He squeezed Colin’s hand.

          Zoe had taken the lead during this exchange and now she stopped, holding her arm up with a closed fist, signalling the others to come to a halt.

          “You’re doing it again,” Colin murmured in her ear.

          “That’s not a phrase, it’s an action!” she whispered back fiercely. “And it’s in the manual!”

Colin shook his head in bewilderment.          “What’s the matter, anyway?”

          “Nothing, I think,” said Zoe. “I just wanted to have a look at this before we went on.”

Ahead of them stretched a large clearing in the midst of the trees and bushes. It stretched about fifty feet in front of them and was about thirty feet wide at the centre. The shape was roughly oval, and it was bounded on all sides by the dense, almost impenetrable undergrowth of the forest. On the right, at the edge of the clearing, a tree had fallen and the old, rotten trunk was lying half propped up on another tree and some bushes. Branches and twigs lay everywhere.

The clearing was all grass, dark coloured and in rough, uneven lumps. The path led straight across the middle of the clearing and at each end passed through clumps of bushes which almost grew across the path itself, so thick and high were they. No sunlight reached the glade because of the thick canopy of leaves high up in the forest, but the light, though dull, was enough to see everything clearly.

          “Good place for an ambush,” Zoe murmured very quietly.

Colin stared at her in amazement.

          “Ambush ! Who’s going to ambush us? We haven’t seen another living soul!”

          “That’s why it’s called an ambush,” Zoe said. “You don’t see them until it’s too late.”

Colin studied the clearing and shrugged.

          “Well, it looks alright to me.”

Zoe held up her hand again.

          “Listen!”

They kept perfectly still for a moment, their ears tuned to pick up the sounds of the forest.

          “I can’t hear anything,” said Tim.

          “Exactly,” agreed Zoe.

There was a pause as they listened again. It was absolutely silent everywhere; not a bird twittering, no crickets chirping, the trees all round quite still and silent. There was not even a breath of wind.

          “That’s odd,” said Colin. “It seems ominously quiet.” He stepped forward cautiously into the clearing and listened again.

          “Come on,” he said, turning to the others. “It seems alright.”

The three of them started across the clearing. When they were about halfway across there was a rustle and a loud thump from the forest opposite them at the far side of the clearing.

Colin held up his hand and they stopped, staring at the bushes ahead. It was deathly quiet again as they listened carefully.

          “Told you!” Zoe murmured into Colin’s ear. “Ambush.”

          “More likely to be a deer or a wild pig!” Colin retorted. “It’s probably more afraid of us than we would be of it.”

After a few moments he motioned them forward. They took a few more hesitant steps, and again they heard a rustle ahead of them and some of the bushes and  trees inside the far edge of the forest moved about violently, as if something was pushing its way through them towards the youngsters. There were several grunts and another heavy thump.

Zoe looked up into the trees ahead of them. The branches and foliage tens of feet above the forest floor were  thrashing about.

          “That’s big for a pig !”

Colin stopped and spoke urgently.

          “Don’t like this! Quick! Run into the bushes. God knows what that is, but I don’t want to wait and find out!”

He pointed to the edge of the clearing opposite the fallen tree and gave Tim a push in that direction. Zoe grabbed Tim’s arm and hustled him away. Colin took a last look in the direction of the noises. The bushes at the very edge of the glade were now moving and waving about and there were more grunts and snorts.

          Colin ran across the uneven grass to join the others, sheltering in the trees and bushes at the side of the clearing. Zoe still had a hold of  Tim’s arm and she half dragged the small boy into a large clump of bushes where they crouched down behind the thick foliage. Colin dodged behind a fat tree, then turned to peer cautiously round the trunk.

Zoe carefully parted the bushes in front of her to see into the clearing. They all continued staring in apprehension at the bushes at the far edge of the path in the clearing. There was yet another thump and a loud roar like the ones they had heard before, and the bushes across the path parted suddenly as something forced its way between them.