From the Adventures of Sam and his Magic Pocket
Book One: The Island of Dread
Written by Lawrence Stokes
Contents
A Dark Night
Have you ever been out in the middle o' the night when the wind was a'blowin' and the clouds a'scuttlin' by? And you could look up at the man in the moon, a'lookin' as big as life, smilin' down at ya? It's a sight as one could never disremember overnight, or even in a whole decade or more! Aye, that night I can recall as if it was a'happenin' all over again at this very moment. I was just a young mouse at the time, visitin' them as gives me orders at one o' them fancy outdoor temples. It had them stones a'standin' round in a circle. Gives me the creeps just to flummox me head about it. Thirteen gray stones as big as walls stuck in the ground, there was. They were a'reachin' for the sky like the teeth o' some half buried skull o' a giant. Not a soul would come near it as folks was forever a'hearin' wailin' voices a'trailin' off over the hills and fillin' up their minds with dread. I heard about little Tommy who'd gone mad in the head after a'comin' up here on a dare one night. His eyes still have that standin' stone look in them, as people call it. No, folks don't come up here on no account.
Let me mind wander back to the night in question. It was cold. The wind chilled me clean through to me bones as I stood in a crack in one o' them gray towerin' stones. I was a'watchin' for some sign that I should venture out, for the Great Ones always know'd when a body came within a furlong o' this here place. I kept an eye open for bats, the pesky things! As they would swoop out o' nowhere and nab a fellow if he wasn't careful. Suddenly, I thought I seed a shadow move just outside one o' them stones. The moon was just then a'hidin' behind the clouds, so I couldn't be for sure. As I recall, the man in the moon just then give me a favor and showed himself right full like. The shadow didn't think it was no great favor though, for he darted away, but not so quick that the likes o' me couldn't catch a good look at him. Standin' in the full light he was, and man he was for sure. If I ever seed a sly lookin' devil he was one—with a large mustache, beady black eyes and a scar just above his left eyebrow. That's all the look as I got that time, but I was overconfident that a second look would come me way soon enough. The moon slipped behind the clouds at last and I held me breath, a'waitin' and a'stickin' me eyes out o' their sockets in search o' the sneak. Where could he be a'lurkin'? He was a silent fellow. Probably charmed his feet with the "tread fall o' mist" or some other magical spell. The likes as come here are a different sort altogether. Wizards and witches, the whole lot o' them. Wait! Did I hear a sound over yonder? No, just the wind a'howlin', playin' tricks on me ears.
Eeeeek! He was a'standin' right over me like a wraith right out o' the cold earth! He might have smashed me flat. I flashed out o' sight as deep into the crack as I could squeeze myself. I wasn't in any such mood o' the mind to be curious about a man as might squash me flat! I closed me eyes tight and pulled the flaps o' me ears down so close to me head, I couldn't hear me own feet a'tremblin'. But where was the man? Did he see me down in this here crack, and was he a'laughin' at what kind o' magical spell he might cast on such a noisy little mouse as me? I couldn't stand just a'waitin' his blast, so I opened just one o' me eyes a teeny little bit, and stuck me quiverin' nose out o' the crack. Nothin' happened. Then I relaxed quite a bit as I seed the man out in the middle o' the standin' stones, stoopin' to the ground. I could see the white o' his teeth as he grinned.
This man snuck in here somehow without a'bein' seed and now he was a'stoopin' and a'diggin' in a stone vault or somethin' as he know'd he shouldn't. What could this all lead up to? I couldn't figure it. He had a pouch full o' dust by this time and was a'slinkin' away toward the outer edge o' the temple. Yes, I told you afore that this was a temple. This place had been the center o' mystery and the doin's o' the Great and Noble Ones for time out o' mind—maybe thousands o' years for all I know'd.
The Moon suddenly came out again and the man laid flat against the earth in an instant—a'lookin' like no more than a slight bump. He laid still for such an awful long time that I thought he had melted right down into the ground. Finally, the man in the moon crept away for good this time, as it seemed. A thick blanket o' black clouds had just rolled in from nowhere and struck out the light o' the moon as if there'd never even been one. The thief, for thief he surely was, got slowly to his feet and made for an openin' between two o' them there standin' stones.
This next thing that happened, I can't give no good reason for. I must have lost all me senses. Mum always said that I was addlepated and would come to no good end—which was fairly close to the mark as you will see. What I'm a'tryin' to say is that me curious mind got the better o' me and I ventured out to see more clearly what was afoot. In fact, I dared to go almost right up to the very shoestrings o' the thief himself in me excitement! As best as I remember, the stone to the right o' the thief lit up sudden like. It startled me somethin' terrible, but that's nothin' compared to what effect this light had on the thief. He shot out o' there quick as lightnin'! Zam! I never seed a better run in all me days! As I was a'lookin' at the retreatin' figure, I only seed it out o' the corner o' me eye, but a man just kind o' melted out o' the lit up stone like it was a doorway.
I know'd the man. It was Rufin, the bag o' tricks man, as we small ones called him. But he was really much grander than that—we just couldn't see it. No sooner did he appear, than he brought a wand out o' nowhere and called lightnin' and thunder out o' the black sky. I could see the silhouette o' the thief clearly for only a second, but it was long enough for Rufin. I then did another thing without a'thinkin' too much. I jumped up onto his robe and held on for dear life, for I know'd what was a'comin' next. Now that Rufin had seen where the thief was a'headin' to, he spoke a word o' command, and with a flash o' light, we stood in front o' the thief, a'blockin' his way o' escape.
"Stop! In the name of the Stone of Argus!" shouted Rufin. He held his wand aloft, and a blue streak shot from it and struck the thief in the chest. He writhed in pain and held tenaciously to the pouch o' dust.
"No! Let me go, unchain me!" were the words that escaped his lips, though I never seed his lips move. It was like no other voice that I had ever heard in all me life! If a shriek and a whispered command could be combined, that sound would describe it.
Then I heard a crack as if actual chains were broken asunder. The thief took off at a run and Rufin found himself cast into the ground—buried waist deep in dirt. What a close call that was for me! If I was still a'hangin' onto his lower robe—I hate to think about it! Luckily, I was more securely a'clingin' to his collar by then.
I thought that I seed every sort o' trickery and magic, but what happened next was incredible. When I retell this here tale, even in the presence o' wizards, they shake their heads in disbelief. Rufin spoke a command which turned his left hand and arm brick red, then he thrust it elbow deep into the earth. Next, I heard a grindin' and a tearin' sound. A chasm opened up in the ground, a'startin' right where Rufin stuck in his arm, and it deepened as it went a'zigzaggin' along the path o' the thief, overtakin' him in the end.
The thief had lost his voice and could only mouth the words, nevertheless, it was clear enough to the likes o' me what he was a'sayin'. "Have mercy! Not the abyss! Not the dreaded abyss!" The thief was a'clingin' near the edge and a'slippin' all the time—down, down, into the darkness o' that pit. Rufin stood over him, wand poised to strike. A grim look was chiseled on his face, not evil, not even hatred was chiseled there, but a grim and solemn look. Just like them old standin' stones, he was.
Rufin looked down at the thief as he said, "I should finish you off, and be done with it, Zachary. You have been warned too many times to count!" So this was Zachary. I've heard heaps o' him, but none that I heard was good, no, none at all. A rebel he was, if me memory doesn't fail.
Then Rufin's expression changed and for the good. I would have to say that it was softened a bit and took on more o' his usual features, for he was a jolly fellow if there ever was one—if you didn't cross him.
Rufin spoke to his captive, "So be it, we will parley. Come up here." The thief rose in the air, his face a livid green—afraid o' heights I would guess by the look o' him. It was as if Rufin had tied invisible strings to Zachary, and was a'haulin' him up through the air til he stood afore Rufin at the top o' the chasm.
Rufin then questioned Zachary with a solemn voice, "You took some of the dust of the Stone of Argus from inside the ring of the standing stones. Do you know the penalty?" The thief was a'tryin' to make a reply, but his mouth only moved in silence.
"Oh yes, I forgot. Loss of speech can be one of the side effects of spells of this sort," said Rufin in a more friendly manner. "I will give you a new voice. I apologize ahead of time that it won't be quite like the other one. I surely would like to know how you did that banshee impression. Well, never mind." His wand was up, he cast a spell, and a shower o' soft little sparks floated slowly down over Zachary.
With his voice restored, Zachary lost no time in answerin' Rufin's question, "Yes, I know the penalty, but you dare not inflict such a thing on me! You can't banish me down into that," and he stretched out his hand, a'pointin' his tremblin' finger toward the bottomless abyss.
Rufin shook his head a little sadly, and said, a'talkin' to himself, "I think that I need to tweak his dialect just a smidgen." And as he blew out the breath o' his last word, the soft little sparks that were still a'floatin' down turned a bright crimson color and twinkled. "Zachary, stop this foolhardy plan of yours and abide with the decision of the council concerning this magical dust."
"No, never!" wailed Zachary. His voice was faint and scratchy, as if he spoke with the greatest difficulty. Then he croaked a little like a small frog. His hands went to his head and he reeled back and forth. His followin' words were spoken as nicely as anyone would want—so sweet and friendly like. "Oh dear, my head aches something awful, and I think I'm catching cold in this night air. Oh my head!" He then looked up and acted mighty surprised to see Rufin a'standin' there. "Fancy meeting you here. It has been a long time," said Zachary. "Ah, but yes, I should see you here, for I am your prisoner. It is all coming back. And indeed I should be grateful, under the circumstance, to have such a gentleman as yourself as my tormentor."
Zachary snapped out o' this new self for just a moment and raged at Rufin, "My voice! Did you have to make me into such a weakling? I feel so utterly ashamed, and ridiculous!"
"Now, now, Zachary, I would say that this is a great improvement," was Rufin's easy reply. "Oh well, to each his own, but nevertheless, you are stuck with this voice—at least for the present," Then he continued with a sterner voice, a'sayin', "Now to the business at hand. Zachary, hand me the pouch!"
"I shan't and that's that. Do you have a hankie I can borrow? My nose is itching something awful," said Zachary in his sweet singsongy voice.
Rufin repeated his command, "Hand me the pouch!"
Again Zachary replied, "You've got to catch me first, so nanny, nanny, nanny. You old sour head! Oh, did I say that? I am so sorry. Will you please pardon me?"
I could tell that Zachary was a'fightin' like the dickens to break away from this here spell that transformed him into a wimp, and at last he succeeded. Zachary screamed and tore his hair, then his voice shook the ground as he shouted, "I will repeat it: It is mine! It will give me the power I seek! Not only that, but it will free me forever from the draw of the Outer Realm. Here is a spell of my own, Rufin! A spell to neutralize all magic for a time. Now we can fight as men were made to do!"
Zachary flashed out his sword, spoke his neutralizin' spell, and took a swing at Rufin's head. Rufin moved aside, but as I was a'clingin' to his shoulder at the time, I had two o' me left whiskers shaved clean off.
Rufin backed up a step and said with a threatenin' voice, "Beware of the dust of the Stone of Argus! It will draw others to it!" Swoosh went the thief's sword, and Rufin ducked and butted his opponent in the stomach with his head. The thief fell back, but was instantly on his feet again. I can't tell you rightly how I managed to keep me hold on Rufin's shoulder. "You will be in constant danger!" shouted Rufin as a final warnin'.
Then, Zachary brought his sword down with great force, a'thinkin' to slice Rufin's head in two, but Rufin grabbed the hilt o' the sword as it was a'comin' and turned it aside. Zachary twisted an ankle, lost his balance and fell headlong into the abyss. He lost his grip on the pouch as he fell and let out a scream that made me want to be a'plugin' me ears. "Heeeeeelp!"
Rufin spoke quietly, as if to himself, "Yes, I will help you even now, Zachary." Rufin brought out his wand and cast a spell. There was a flash o' light and both Zachary and the pouch vanished, as they were a'fallin' into the abyss. The scream stopped and there was silence. "Good. I was afraid for a moment that his neutralizing spell was still in effect. I break out of those types of spells quite easily in my old age. My first intention was to throw him back into the Outer Realm. I'm not sure what made me do it, but I transported him from this pit into the Mortal Realm of the Future instead. I will be sorry, I'm sure. We shall see. When he arrives, he will find that he is in animal form, and that his magical powers have been suspended until someone turns him back into human form. He will be glad to find that my curse of a wimpy voice has also been suspended.
"Meanwhile, the pouch must be retrieved, and the dust of the Stone of Argus put back in its proper place, but how? Hmm. Let me think … I see a boy, a girl and a dog down there who are ready for an adventure. He is the grandson of … No, I won't say who he is to me, though to see his grandfather, one might well guess."
Then a'turnin' to me, he said, "So, you had to tag along and see the fun, little one?"
"Aye, that I did. And what goin's on I haven't a'set me eyes on afore now, I'll warrant. But, I have come to report for duty as was requested."
Rufin smiled at me and said, "Then I will give you an assignment. I will send you down into the Mortal Realm of the Future to help us regain possession of that pouch of dust. You will be transformed into something—not another animal, but you will be transformed, none the less. You always have had the tendency to hide in cracks, peeking out into the world to spy on the doings of others. Now will be your chance to fulfill your heart's desire."
He took me off his shoulder, and I perched upon his hand. As I looked up into his face, he said, "You have always wanted to have a little magical power of your own, is that so?"
"Aye sir. That I have—just a bit o' me own magic."
Rufin continued, "On this assignment, you will have this gift. In fact you will have a great deal of magic in you, but there will be certain limitations, as you will see. Now, be on your way!"
"Aye sir." And with a flash o' light I was gone. The next thing I know'd, I was in the Mortal Realm of the Future.
Final Note:
I've been a'readin' this here document which you'll find on the followin' pages and I approve o' it mightily. But I've been a'considerin' the facts as they is laid out afore us, and this here prologue be a necessary 'pendage if there ever was one. So I've taken the liberty to add me eyewitness account as to what happened afore this here story even takes off and begins. As you will see, you a'knowin' about the thief and all, and the pouch o' dust a'fallin' and the standin' stone man with his lightnin' striker o' a curse, will be a powerful revelation to ya, if you're expected to follow the story with an ounce o' intelligence. Now I've gone and said it, and I'm done writin' this confounded thing.
Yours affectionately,
Mouse