Chapter Fifteen
More Werebeasts Through the Portal?
An endless wave of werebeasts surge towards us.
I’m about to charge to meet them, steel against steel when the shimmering disc of light suddenly reappears behind me! Are werebeasts about to start pouring through there as well?!
I’m spinning, this way and that, not sure which threat to face, when Tim grabs my arm and drags me towards the shimmering disc. Bunsen is just disappearing through it!
“Quickly, Victor! After Bunsen! I will follow with the Portal,” Tim shouts, giving me a shove towards the light.
I step into the light – and find myself back in the hall at the palace where the Council of War took place! There’s nobody sat around the great U shaped stone table but, then, I suppose it is the middle of the night. In fact the there’s nobody here at all, except Bunsen. And me, obviously. Oh, and now Tim, holding the Portal.
Tim quickly whips the batteries out and the disc of light disappears.
Being the only light source we are plunged into darkness.
Bunsen lets a few flames flicker from his jaws. In the flickering red/orange light Tim and Bunsen look exhausted. I feel the same way. Now it’s all over, my energy just fades away and I flop down onto one of the chairs. There’s a splintering crash as my silver weight turns the chair into matchsticks, followed by a loud clang as I land on the floor.
The light splutters as Bunsen laughs at me lying sprawled on the floor. Tim is grinning broadly and I can’t help but chuckle. Soon we’re all laughing uncontrollably. I’m not sure why, it’s not really that funny. Maybe it’s the relief of being out of danger and knowing that the Fantasy Realm is safe: Cretin the Cruel is back in Horrorville, the cavalry will easily deal with the werebeasts left in the stronghold and we’ve got the Portal of Infinite Power back. We deserve a good laugh.
The door to the hall suddenly bursts open and light floods in, blinding after the gloom of the almost dark.
Blinking to try and clear my vision I find I have leapt to my feet, my sword flashing out of its sheath. There’s a grotesque figure stood in the doorway. I can only really make out a shadowy outline but it’s some kind of hunchbacked monster. It lurches towards us.
Rubbing at my eyes with my left hand I advance on the beast, my sword raised, ready to strike. But something doesn’t feel right. My arm brings the sword slashing down towards the disfigured creature.
No! At the last moment I force the sword wide and it clangs into the floor.
The figure takes a step back and says, “Victor the Victor, I assume?”
My eyes are starting to get used to the light now and I can make out enough to see that the figure isn’t a monster, it’s a man, with a rolled up rug or something over his shoulder.
“Er…sorry,” I mumble, “I thought you were a horrible monster.”
“Not for the first time,” mumbles the man.
“What’s going on!” demands Bunsen as he and Tim stride/flap over. “Who are you?”
“Royal Page,” says the figure. “The King wishes to see Victor the Victor. He is to present himself immediately and give his report.”
“Right,” grumbles Bunsen. “Let’s go then. Tim, grab the Portal.”
“The King only wishes to see Victor at this moment. He will hear your report next.”
Bunsen snorts flames and looks like he is about to object but Tim nudges him and mutters, “It’s standard procedure, Bunsen; to make sure we give our own account of everything that happened. That way nothing gets missed. You know that.”
Bunsen grumbles and splutters a bit but then says, “Off you go then Victor. We’ll wait here. But hurry up, I want to go and get some sleep!”
“Me too,” mutters Tim. “I can’t remember every being so tired.”
As I follow the page out of the room I can hear Bunsen growling, “No sleep for you wizard! Not until you’ve made me big again!”
Grinning, I follow the Royal Page down the corridor outside the door. We only walk a few metres before the page opens another door and ushers me into the room beyond. There’s no King in here. In fact there’s nothing in here! It’s just a small bare room.
Then I remember, too late, that the King was going to lead the cavalry and should be halfway to Cretin’s stronghold by now!
A trap!
I’m about to draw my sword and turn to confront this Royal Page when suddenly arms wrap around my body, crushing me!
Well, they would be crushing me if I wasn’t made out of solid silver.
“Tyger!” gasps the page. He sounds vastly relieved. I suppose he should be, after all, the Realm is now safe, but this seems a little over the top. And awkward.
Hang on! Did he just call me Tyger?
“Tyger? It is you in there, isn’t it?
“Dad?”
“Tyger! Thank god you’re alright!”
It’s dad. I think. Doesn’t look like dad. But then I don’t look like me. I’m a bit shocked. I shouldn’t be. He said he was going to come and rescue me. He’s a bit late!
Dad releases me from his bear hug and takes a step back, to peer up at my scarred, silver, bearded face. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am to find you Tyger! Thank goodness nothing’s happened to you.”
That brings me out of my shock. “Nothing’s happened to me?” I ask in disbelief. “I’ve turned into a giant of a man, I’ve been beaten and scarred, I’ve ridden a dragon, I’ve been attacked by werebeasts and, in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been turned to silver!”
Dad actually chuckles, which annoys me. “It certainly sounds like you have an adventure to tell me about, Tyger. What I meant was no harm has come to you.”
My frown creates silver glints in the air. “I’ve just told you, I’ve been turned into silver!”
Dad holds up a hand to ward off my response. “Sorry, Tyger. It looks like you have been through a lot. But fortunately all the damage has been done to Victor, not you. You are perfectly fine.” At this point he gestures towards the rug that he must have put on the floor when he followed me into the room.
It’s not a rug - it’s me: Tyger Pants.
I know it’s me, I’ve seen myself in mirrors before. But it’s a bit of a shock to see myself from the outside. Especially when I know I’m stood a couple of metres away.
Whilst I’m thinking this dad pull an Editor out of his pocket and begins to tap at the screen. The page’s body immediately begins to shimmer and flicker, like a dodgy hologram. And then the shimmering image of the page changes to a flickering image of dad and solidifies again, as dad.
“It’s not actually you that’s silver Tyger, it’s Victor. You’re here,” he says pointing at the Tyger me. “You’ve been unconscious since you set off on the mission. But don’t worry, I’ll swap you both over with the Editor and you’ll be as good as new. Perhaps better,” he adds with a little smile.
As he starts tapping away at the Editor again he says, “Actually, Tyger, it seems you’ve done a really good job here. You’ve stepped into a really tricky plot breakdown and sorted it all out. Without any training. It seems you’re a natural Librarian.”
“Natural librarian!” Way to insult someone, dad! Might as well say I’m a natural geek! “I’m not a natural librari…” my voice fades out as images of the wondrous, frightening, amazing, horrifying, exhilarating things that have happened to me flash in my head. And, according to dad, this is what Librarians do every day!
“Perhaps you might like to be a Librarian then, Tyger?”
“Oh yeh!” I exclaim. “Being a librarian is awefull!”
Dad frowns, not sure if he’s heard me right. But seeing my smile he joins in and we stand there for a minute grinning stupidly at each other.
“Right then,” says dad, turning his attention back to the Editor, “let’s get you two swapped over. He clicks away at the Editor and points it first at me then at..er..me. Both of us s
himmer and flicker like the page/dad did and in a few seconds I’m back in my own body and, I guess, Victor is back in his.
Dad looks at me with a frown creasing his brow and one eyebrow raised. “What?” I ask.
“You seem to have grown beard! Or at least kept Victor’s. Never mind, we’ll shave it off later. I’m sure it won’t grow back again for a few years.”
As dad wanders over to Victor and fiddles around with the Editor, I absently raise my hand to my chin and stroke my beard. Like most things since I picked up dad’s Editor back in the library, it’s not something I thought I would be doing today. And then I find myself chuckling as I remember thinking, back in the library before this whole adventure started, that I was as likely to grow a beard as I was to want to be a librarian by the end of the day. It’s funny how things work out.
“Right!” says dad, snapping me out of my daydream. “I’ve altered Victor’s memory so he’ll remember everything that happened as if he was here all along. Which means our job is done and we can get back to the library. Come and stand next to me, Tyger.”
I shuffle over and Dad makes a final stab at the screen of the Editor. As we start to fade away Victor begins to stir.
“We should be back in time for lunch,” says dad.
“Lunch! Isn’t it time to go home? I’ve been here for hours!” I protest.
“Time works a bit differently here,” says dad. “Don’t worry. I’ve found something really interesting for you to do.”
Phew! I wonder what? Another mission? That would be frosty! Maybe I’ll be a pirate or a spaceman or an alien or a…
“I’ve found another room full of books that need labels!”
“What!?” I can’t believe it. He wants me to stick boring labels in boring books after all this excitement.
“It’s all part of being a Librarian, Tyger. The books don’t look after themselves you know. But then again, neither do the stories.”
Sneaky Peak at Tyger Pants 2
Count Tarantula